Chapter 25 Resting Beach Face
RESTING BEACH FACE
The second those words left his mouth, Ottis regretted it.
Stupid! he told himself. Now he’s going to throw us out.
Or maybe he would just throw Ottis out, since Marcie was also a dragonet and maybe Doc wanted her for himself.
No, Doc wouldn’t do that to them. But...
Large hands grasped his shoulders, squeezing him lightly. “Sweetheart.” Doc looked deep into his eyes. “Everything is going to be fine.”
“You can’t just say that! You can’t promise things like that,” Ottis said, his shoulders sagging. “Sevrian hates me. What if he brings enough firepower to level your mansion? What if he hurts you and all your friends? What if—”
Doc’s masked face drew closer and closer. Red fabric moved.
Soft lips pressed against his.
Ottis kept talking anyway, because this was important.
“What if—mmph—he hires some wizard to drop flesh-eating slugs—mmmph!—on you? What if he makes someone summon—mmmm—ghosts? Or, or chimpanzees? Or—mmmph—maybe crazy robots—”
Doc huffed, warm air puffing straight into Ottis’ mouth.
Only then did Ottis realize that Doc’s lips were pressed against his own, with nothing between them.
No mask.
In broad daylight.
His brain stuttered. “Um.”
Doc kissed him again. “Have I distracted you enough?”
“You’re not wearing your—your mask.”
“I am. Kind of.”
Ottis pulled away to look, only to remember at the last second that Doc didn’t want anyone seeing him. He scrunched his eyes shut, but not before he saw the full extent of deep scarring over half of Doc’s face, fading up into gentler scars, then unblemished skin.
“I didn’t mean to look!” Ottis squeaked, slapping his hands over his eyes.
Doc laughed. “Well, you can tell me how—how bad you think it is.”
His tone was light, but his heart pounded loudly between them.
Ottis frowned, offended on Doc’s behalf. “You can’t possibly think I’m going to leave now, right after I’ve seen your face.”
“People have done that before.”
And that—that was just unfair. Ottis had also experienced similar reactions because of his limping.
“Okay,” Ottis said. “Okay. Why don’t you let me look, and I’ll tell you.”
Doc swallowed. With his eyes still shut, Ottis reached out, feeling around for Doc’s hands.
When he found them, he grasped them tightly. “I promise I’m not leaving.”
“Don’t make a promise you’ll regret, sweetheart.”
“I won’t regret it,” Ottis said mulishly.
Doc chuckled quietly and leaned in. Their lips met again, a slow, soft kiss that made Ottis’ heart race. It felt like affection, like intimacy, and a last kiss in case Ottis changed his mind.
Then Doc pulled away, sighing through his nose. “Go ahead, I suppose.”
Ottis cracked his eyes open.
In the pale sunlight, Doc’s eyes were dark, his lips pressed together, red lace hanging from one ear. There was a certain beauty to him, in the uneven scars across his face, like a turbulent wave crashing over a gentle shore.
Ottis took Doc’s face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over the dry scar tissue. “You look like the beach.”
Doc raised an eyebrow. “The beach?”
“Yeah! This looks like a wave.” With a fingertip, Ottis traced the edge of the deep scarring, following it across one cheek, over Doc’s nose, to the other cheek.
“Everything below this line is the wave, all the ripples and eddies of swirling water.” He brushed his thumbs over the scars, drawing squiggles and swirls.
“Above that is the wet sand.” Ottis petted the silvery scars between Doc’s deep scarring and his unblemished skin, before sweeping his thumbs further up—to the rest of Doc’s face, perfect save for some light scarring.
“This part is all dry sand, the rest of the beach.”
Doc stared at him for a long while. “Should I be concerned?” he asked eventually. “I have a resting beach face?”
Ottis gaped. Then he gave an ugly snorting laugh. “That sounds better than ‘resting bitch face’. But yeah! Maybe you do!”
“Well, it’s either that, or you think of me as a sentient seashore,” Doc said dryly.
“Sentient sea-whore!” Hijinks yelled from somewhere else.
Ottis groaned. “Both of those sound terrible.” But he gave himself a moment to think about it, slumping forward to lean against Doc. “Do seashores have... love rods sticking out of them?”
“Sea cucumbers exist,” was Hijinks’ shouted reply. “They squirt white stuff!”
Doc winced. Ottis opened and closed his mouth, horrified. “That was not where I expected this to go. But if your cock is a sea cucumber, then what are your pecs and abs?”
Doc protested, “It doesn’t have to be a sea cucumber.”
“Limpet nipples,” Hijinks said. “Pecs as hot as undersea volcanoes. All you’re missing is the milk eruption.”
Ottis bit his lip to contain his laughter. But it burst out anyway, shaking his shoulders. “Oh gods. Do you find that offensive? Oh no. It’s so terrible.”
Doc sighed, looking aggrieved. He sobered soon after. “Are you going to leave me because I have a... resting beach face?”
“No!” Ottis flung his arms around Doc’s neck and clung on tightly. “You’re perfect.”
“Really?” Doc asked doubtfully.
“Really!” Ottis drew back, looking at Doc again.
He studied Doc’s vulnerable, scarred face, tracing his fingertips down Doc’s smooth forehead to his equally smooth cheek, to where it became rough and mottled.
His fingers snagged on the corner of Doc’s mouth, and he gently stroked those soft lips.
“Maybe it’s because I know you. I don’t think you’re ugly or scary at all. You’re just you.”
And his heart thumped sure and true.
Doc drew a shuddering breath. “You’re going to feel the same way when we mate? If you’re looking at my face.”
Ottis pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “I’d be happy to demonstrate.”
It would be different for sure, getting to see Doc’s face when Doc was inside him. Getting to see the pleasure in his eyes, on his lips. Ottis’ heart fluttered.
Next to them, Marcie sneezed.
Ottis and Doc startled, looking down at her in surprise.
“I completely forgot she was there,” Ottis said, feeling guilty. “Again.”
Doc slipped his arms around Ottis and hugged him close. “You’re in a safe place, safe enough to lower your guard. You can’t focus on everything at once, all the time.”
Ottis still felt guilty though.
Doc trailed his fingers over Ottis’ belly, distracting him. “Have you thought of a name?”
Since theirs was a mixed-species mating, there would only be one child, unlike a full litter from two wolf shifter parents.
“N-no. Have you?” Torn out of his guilt, Ottis looked up, only to catch the hint of a smile on Doc’s lips.
“I think you should be the one to decide, since you’re carrying the pup. You’re the one suffering.” At that, Doc’s face fell. “You’re the one with morning sickness and fatigue, sweetheart. I wish there was more I could do for you.”
“You rub my feet,” Ottis said. “I love foot rubs. It’s almost better than sex.”
Doc laughed. “I’ll do that as often as I can.” He reached down, cradling Ottis’ foot and working his thumbs into its arch.
Pleasure burst through Ottis’ body. “That feels amazing.”
“Good.”
With his hands working magic, Doc leaned in, his gaze soft, his lips slightly parted.
He was going to kiss Ottis again.
Hijinks’ voice cracked through the air, full of urgency.
“Probe Master. Eight unknown entities on the north border, about to probe us.”