Chapter 24 #2
Sawyer laughed, teary-eyed, holding up his hand, looking at the ring. “This one’s perfect.” He kissed Ciaran then, soft and slow, and pressed their foreheads together. “You’re perfect.”
Ciaran hummed, now very interested in how their bodies pressed together so perfectly, how Sawyer lips felt, how he tasted. “Maybe we could miss the party with the boys.”
But Sawyer just laughed. “No, we’re going to be social. You need to be their leader, and I have seven people to get to know.”
“Well, six. Tobin’s still not back yet. He’s due to return soon.” Ciaran slid his hand to Sawyer’s cheek. “Are you sure you want to go? We could stay here and put more than finger marks on the glass cabinets.”
Sawyer snorted and gave him a soft shove. “Gross.”
Ciaran let out a pretend annoyed sigh. “Then, if we must, let’s go be sociable.”
They went out the front door, the cold wind fresh and biting. It made Ciaran feel alive, though Sawyer pulled up his coat collar and hunkered down a little. “Holy shit, that’s icy.”
Ciaran hurried him to Fray’s place, the building blocking the wind coming off the Cove. As they got to the door, Sawyer stopped. “Don’t let me near the water.”
“I won’t.” Ciaran put his hand on Sawyer’s face, their noses almost touching. “Are you sure you want to go in? You know his place has the mezzanine to the dock, so if you start to feel—”
“I want to do this,” he said. “We need to do this.” Then he whispered, “And I wanna see who notices the ring first.”
Ciaran gave him a quick smiley kiss. “Okay.”
They walked in holding hands, a first for Ciaran, and he couldn’t help the surge of pride and joy he felt.
“Oh, here they are,” Aurin said, winking at Ciaran from across the room. He had a glass of wine in his hand. “Thought you two would be... busy.”
Otis was sitting in the middle of the room with his shirt off, and Hendrix was adding some ink to his back tattoo. Otis waved, and Hendrix, not looking up, chipped him about sitting still.
Kellan was talking to Dylan, and Fray came over with a shit-eating grin and a beer in each hand, giving one to Sawyer and one to Ciaran. Of course he noticed the gold band first.
He took Sawyer’s hand and looked at Ciaran. “Is this...”
“The ring I kept? Yes.”
Fray put a gentle hand on Sawyer’s arm, a gesture of his happiness, then he offered his fist for Ciaran to bump. “Happy to see it finally in its rightful place, brother.”
“Thanks,” Ciaran murmured. “Any word on Tobin...?”
Ciaran immediately regretted asking because of how Fray flinched.
“Nope. Not that he’d let me know anyway.”
“Fray, I’m sorry,” Ciaran whispered.
He tried to smile. “S’okay.”
It clearly fucking wasn’t.
“Hey, Sawyer,” Hendrix called, still not looking up from his tattoo work on Otis’s back. “Want some ink?”
Sawyer’s smile became a slow grin, then he shot Ciaran a quick glance. “Hey, so random question, probably stupid, likely inappropriate....”
Ciaran snorted. “Okay.”
“Do you have... ink? Like how far does the whole octo-likeness go? Because I would absolutely get your ink tattooed into my skin.”
Ciaran slow-blinked, because Jesus Christ. Every set of eyes in the room were on them. Even Hendrix stopped tattooing and looked up.
Ciaran felt himself blushing. “Uh....”
And of course it was Fray who laughed first. “You kinky fuckers. You wanna know what other kinky shit they do?”
Ciaran pointed his finger at him. “One more word about that, and I will fucking burn you so bad, you’ll wished you were never hatched.”
Everyone laughed, Sawyer included. He wasn’t even embarrassed, just really happy, so Ciaran couldn’t even be mad. “So uh, yes,” he mumbled. “There could be ink.”
Sawyer turned to Hendrix. “So that’s a yes. Book me in.”
Ciaran made a sound that was far too purry for the company they were in, but he didn’t even care. Fuck yes, having his own ink tattooed into Sawyer had never even crossed his mind, but now... now he wanted it so fucking bad.
Fraser gave him a hard shove. “Fuck, will you stop that. You’re killing me here.”
It didn’t help that Sawyer was leaning into Ciaran, his hand in Ciaran’s back pocket. Ciaran was too happy to care.
He hadn’t expected to feel so much just by simply watching Sawyer talk with Kellan and laugh with Otis and Hendrix. He felt... complete. Fulfilled, if that was even a thing.
Just so fucking happy.
He’d wanted to stay in and spend hours and hours exploring and mapping Sawyer’s body. But now he was so glad he’d not missed this.
The familiar sound of Tobin’s boat coming back into the Cove caught their attention, and Ciaran didn’t miss the way Fray’s eyes went to the window—how he tried not to look but couldn’t not look....
“Does he need us to help unload?” Dylan asked.
But as the boat pulled up, Tobin appeared, tossing the mooring rope over the pylon and tying it off in one easy go. Then someone appeared behind him...
Someone was on the boat with him.
He wasn’t alone.
He brought someone here? Into our sanctuary?
From the shadows, from what little light shone from Tobin’s place, they could see the person was small, petite, had long curly hair... and she was smiling. She was pretty.
They watched as Tobin held his hand out to help her off the boat. She stepped onto the dock, he opened the door to his place, and she went in.
“What the fuck?” Aurin whispered.
Fray’s face.... He shrank back, deflated, and gods, Ciaran hated it.
Ciaran was torn.
He wanted to take Fray into the water, go freeform and let him decompress. He needed to go speak to Tobin.
But he couldn’t leave Sawyer.
Until he felt Sawyer’s hand on his lower back. “Hey,” he said softly. “Go. You need to go.”
He met his gaze, so fucking torn. “Sawyer—”
“I’ll be fine. I won’t go into the water. I’ll go back home. You need to go.” He saw Ciaran hesitate, so he said it again, with more conviction. “Ciaran, go.”
Ciaran looked directly at Otis. “You don’t let him out of your sight.”
“On it,” Otis said, moving closer to Sawyer.
Ciaran took off down the dock just as Tobin was closing his door. He grabbed the door and pushed it open wide.
The woman, who was in her early twenties, was by the table. She smiled, bright-eyed. “Hi,” she said. There was an accent, and a backpack by her feet.
Ciaran zeroed in on Tobin. “What are you doing? You know the rules.”
No strangers. No visitors. Not without fair fucking warning.
Tobin looked a mix of angry and miserable. “Oh, so it’s fine for you. You can have someone—”
“You know that’s not what happened.”
Tobin’s nostrils flared. “She’s only staying one night. I’m taking her to Strahan tomorrow. She needed a lift. And we have free will, yes? Isn’t that what you said?”
“Is okay?” the girl asked. “If problem....”
“No, it’s fine,” Tobin answered, giving her a smile. Then he turned back to Ciaran, that misery back in his eyes. “If we’re done here....”
By the gods Ciaran hated this. “Tobes,” he tried. “Look, Fray—”
Tobin flinched and shook his head. “No. I can’t. Not him, not that. I can’t do this right now. I’m sorry.”
And he shut the door in Ciaran’s face.
Ciaran stood there for a few seconds, uncertain about so many things, but the pull to go back to Sawyer was gnawing under his skin. He wanted to make Tobin talk to him, but the need to get back to Sawyer was too much to ignore.
And Tobin’s closed door wasn’t getting him anywhere.
So he headed back to Fray’s and was met with concerned eyes from everyone and relief from Sawyer. He went to him first, and the simple act of touching his arm, seeing the love in his eyes, was enough.
Then he went to Fray. Ciaran put his hand around Fray’s neck. Fray closed his eyes and leaned into Ciaran’s touch.
“Tell me what you need,” Ciaran murmured. “You wanna go freeform, we’ll go.”
He gave the barest of nods.
“We’ll take him,” Kellan said.
When Ciaran turned, Aurin, Dylan, Hendrix, and Otis were all there, ready and waiting.
Ciaran was so fucking torn. He wanted to be the one who took Fray, but he couldn’t leave Sawyer.
And Sawyer knew, of course. He could feel everything Ciaran was feeling, and the look of apology on his face just about tore Ciaran apart.
“Hey,” Hendrix said, stepping forward. “We got this. We’re all part of this family. You go do what you need to and leave this to us.”
Ciaran felt so fucking bad. “Fray....”
Fray tried to smile. “It’s okay, Ciar. It’s fine. I get it. And I’ve been saying I need to get over him, right? That starts right now.”
Ciaran put his hand around Fray’s neck again. “Love you, brother. Stay at my place tonight. Don’t be alone.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
Sawyer made a disgruntled sound, and when Ciaran and Fray both looked over at him, he winced, and Ciaran could feel his jealousy. “Sorry. Trying to rein it in.”
But it made Fray laugh, and he strode over to Sawyer and gave him a big hug. “Don’t be jealous. I can hug you too.”
Sawyer gave him a playful shove, but it made Ciaran so happy to see them both smile. Well, until Fray put his arm around Sawyer for no other reason than to piss Ciaran off.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Ciaran said. He looked at the others. “Please take him now.”
Fray laughed, and they all dropped down to the dry dock, and a few moments later, soft splashes signalled that Ciaran and Sawyer were finally alone.
“Did you want to go with them?” he asked. “I can go lock myself in the jail cell. Actually, that’s a good idea. I can’t go in the water that way.”
Ciaran chuckled. “You’re not doing that. Come on, let’s go home.” He put his arm around Sawyer’s shoulder and led him out, away from the water. “You feel okay?”
Sawyer nodded, but there was a residual sadness between them.
“It won’t always be like this,” Sawyer murmured. “We’ll adjust. But I am sorry.”
“I know,” Ciaran said. And he did know.
“Fray will be okay,” Sawyer added.
Ciaran nodded. “And Tobin.... I don’t know what he was thinking. He’s fighting some inner battle, and I should have talked to him before now.”
“Tomorrow,” Sawyer offered. He tightened his arms around Ciaran, and damn if it wasn’t everything he needed right then. “We’ll stay at your place tonight,” he said, steering them toward the back of the antiques store. “And hang out with Fray when he gets back.”
Ciaran sighed and kissed the side of Sawyer’s head. “I fucking love you.”
“I think you should prove it,” Sawyer said. “While we’re alone.”
Ciaran held the door for him, and Sawyer walked in, smirking, inviting. “They could be gone a while.”
“Good.”
Ciaran laughed, kissing Sawyer as they walked into the kitchen. Ciaran’s hands went to Sawyer’s sides, to his back, down to his arse, and they both grunted when they bumped into the kitchen counter, not breaking the kiss even to smile or laugh.
“Take me to bed,” Sawyer whispered. “And do very indecent things to me.”
Ciaran growled with desire, and he had just turned Sawyer around so they could walk to his room with Ciaran’s hands cupping Sawyer’s arse when Sawyer stopped.
“Oh,” he said, surprised. “Hello.”
Ciaran looked over his shoulder to see the damn cat sitting there in the middle of the floor watching them.
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Ciaran said, scooping the cat up and putting him outside and closing the back door.
Salem sat there for a moment, annoyed and miffed. He could hear Ciaran and Sawyer laughing as they fumbled down the hall, trying to walk and kiss and undress each other all at once and not managing any task successfully.
Sawyer.
Salem liked him. Ciaran, he didn’t like so much.
But a human mate, of all the foolish things.
Fate really did have a wicked sense of humour.
Salem licked his paw with superiority because he was better than them. They just didn’t know it.
Not yet.
But then Salem sensed something else. Something coming from the water... Something not at all human. Not cephamorph either—not one of them. Something familiar but what he couldn’t quite place.
He scented the air. He listened....
Nothing.
A closer look, then.
Salem slinked off toward the water, toward Tobin’s place, his sleek black form disappearing into the night without so much as a sound.
He’d been in this form for so long, he was beginning to embody every trait.
Curiosity really was a curse.
~the end