Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Atlas knew that, by all accounts, he looked to be lounging nonchalantly, sprawled out shirtless on his couch, wearing his best gray sweatpants. (And by ‘best’ he meant the pair that had gone through the wash the most times, where the fabric was thin and… clingy.)
But Atlas was far from nonchalant.
He was expecting a guest, and for once in his life, he wasn’t indifferent. He was decidedly impatient, actually.
He’d just decided to switch lounging locations and see if that did anything to slow his racing heart when… there. A knock on his door. Quiet but firm.
Atlas leaped up from his sprawl, making his way to the door in a smooth lope. After opening it as wide as it would go, he grasped the top of the doorjamb with both hands. He grinned when Benjamin’s wide gaze darted predictably to first Atlas’s bare chest, then his bulging biceps.
Well, damn. A little mouse back within reach. And wearing his tasty flannel pajamas, no less.
“Benjamin,” Atlas purred.
Benjamin flushed a perfect pink, the scent of lime-drenched mango filling the air. He held up a box. “Is this from you?”
Atlas pursed his lips in pretend thought. “Hard to say. What’s in it?”
Benjamin gnawed at his lower lip nervously, like he was suddenly doubting his decision to come here.
Be brave for me, little mouse.
“It’s a… scale,” Benjamin finally told him.
“What kind of scale?”
“I don’t know.” But Atlas didn’t miss the way Benjamin tucked the box to his chest protectively. “A beautiful one.”
Atlas grinned, rocking onto his toes. “You like my gift.”
Benjamin nodded, and there was a charmingly defiant glint to his eye. “I do.”
“Do you want to see where it came from?”
Benjamin chewed on his pretty lip again as he studied Atlas, quietly assessing. For once, Atlas didn’t push or prod at him. He waited, coiled and patient. And maybe flexed his biceps a little, just to help move things along.
What felt like hours later, Benjamin nodded. “Show me.”
Atlas released the doorjamb and stepped back from the door, one arm extended like a showman. “Come in.”
Benjamin crossed the threshold and made his way over to the couch without asking. He sat down, all prim and proper, with the box balanced on his lap.
“Water?” Atlas offered.
“Actually…” Benjamin cleared his throat, crossing and uncrossing and then recrossing his legs. “A drink?”
“You need some liquid courage, little mouse?”
Benjamin flushed pink again at the endearment, but he didn’t call Atlas out. “It’s Christmas Eve,” he argued instead, a stubborn set to his chin Atlas had never seen before.
“Mm.” Atlas resisted the urge to lean forward and nibble at that chin. He pivoted toward the kitchen instead. “I have just the thing.”
He was back from the kitchen in less than a minute. He held out a mug to his guest.
Benjamin took the offering with raised eyebrows. No doubt he thought Atlas was some uncultured swine offering him beer in a coffee mug.
Benjamin peered down into the cup and sniffed delicately. Then he grinned, maybe the first real smile he’d ever given Atlas. “You made mulled wine?”
Atlas cleared his throat as he settled in the armchair across from Benjamin. “Family tradition.”
He shifted in his seat, feeling suddenly off-kilter. Here he’d thought he’d liked nervous, embarrassed Benjamin best, but quietly pleased Benjamin, smiling all sincerely?
That was lethal.
Fuck. Atlas was going to have to keep him, wasn’t he? His little mouse was just too cute. Atlas couldn’t have anyone else getting to Benjamin after he was done with him. There were all sorts of bad characters out there, who would eat him up with no remorse.
Speaking of.
Atlas shifted forward until their knees came close to touching, watching avidly as Benjamin took his first sip. “Tell me, little mouse, are you easily frightened?”
Benjamin lowered his mug, meeting Atlas’s gaze. “Yes,” he admitted easily.
“And how do you feel about reptiles?”
“I had a lizard growing up. Samuel. He was a good friend.”
Atlas had to close his eyes for a second. Fuck. Like he’d said, too cute.
When he opened his eyes again, Atlas was more careful than he needed to be in keeping his powers in check. But he didn’t want Benjamin frozen or dazed or—he hated to even think the word—dead. Atlas wanted him… present.
“I’m going to show you something now,” he murmured.
And then he stood, dipping his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants, ready to tug them down.
Benjamin frowned at the gesture, even as he licked at his lips. “After all that build-up, you’re just showing me your dick?”
The obvious censure was surprising in someone so easily embarrassed. But Benjamin also didn’t try to stop him, so Atlas kept going, tugging his sweatpants down and letting the change take place before Benjamin could get the eyeful he’d accused Atlas of wanting to display.
Benjamin dropped his mug of mulled wine on the floor.
Too bad for the carpet, but the reaction was gratifying. Predictable, but gratifying nonetheless.
Atlas knew he was impressive.
In his true form, Atlas had a torso that was reminiscent of a human male’s—a pretty hot torso too, if Atlas did say so himself—but from the hips down, he was all serpent, his tail longer and thicker than most full-grown humans.
Atlas couldn’t stop grinning for some reason either, so he was displaying teeth that had sharpened into fangs, his eyes glowing the palest green, a perfect match to his iridescent scales.
Basically, he was a sight to see.
And for all that Atlas hadn’t used his powers, Benjamin sat there, frozen on the couch, his hands still cupped around a mug that had long since fallen from their grip.
“Wh-what are you?” Benjamin eventually managed to rasp.
Atlas’s grin widened. “I’m a basilisk.”