Chapter Seven #2
To Jack, he added quietly, “The fur is already fading. See? You’re in control. You’ve got this.”
Jack glanced down at his arms where the fur was indeed receding, and his breathing evening out. When he looked back at Sobek, confusion and relief warred in his expression.
“How did you know?”
“Sometimes people just need reminding that they’re okay.” Sobek ruffled the pup’s hair. “Go check on your siblings. Make sure Rose isn’t planning to eat the chair legs.”
Jack managed a wobbly smile and scurried off. Sobek stood, turning to find Rudy watching him with an expression that was causing all sorts of sensations not appropriate around small children.
“You’re really good with them,” Rudy said softly. “Like, weirdly good. Most people can’t handle one stressed kid, and you just...defused that like it was nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing. Jack was frightened.”
“Yeah, but you knew exactly what to do. The breathing thing, the distraction…” Rudy shook his head. “I’m a terrible guardian. I do my best, but it’s hard not to panic when they panic.”
“You’re an excellent guardian.” The words came out harder than Sobek intended, his crocodile side bristling at any suggestion that Rudy was inadequate.
“You’ve kept three children alive, healthy, and happy without any support.
You’ve given them safety and love when the world abandoned them.
That’s not terrible. That’s extraordinary. ”
Rudy blinked rapidly. “Oh. Um. Thanks. That’s…that’s really nice of you to say.”
Too much. I’m revealing too much too fast. But Sobek couldn’t help it. Every protective instinct screamed at him to eliminate any doubt Rudy had about his own worth, to make his mate understand how precious he was, how seeing him doubt himself was physically painful.
The doorbell rang.
“That’ll be the parts,” Sobek said, grateful for the interruption.
“Already? You ordered them twenty minutes ago.”
“Expedited shipping.”
“I don’t think that’s how shipping works, especially out here on a weekend.”
Sobek opened the door to accept the package from a harried-looking delivery driver who definitely didn’t question why a package ordered twenty minutes ago had somehow manifested. Zeus’s network had its uses, even if Sobek would never admit that to Zeus directly.
“Okay, that’s definitely not normal,” Rudy said, staring at the box. “Did you bribe someone? Are these black market plumbing supplies?”
“Do you want running water or not?”
“Fair point.” Rudy grabbed towels from the linen closet. “I don’t care where those bits came from. Let’s fix some pipes.”
/~/~/~/~/
Two hours later, covered in joint compound and moderately humbled by the complexity of mortal plumbing, Sobek tightened the final compression fitting while Rudy held the flashlight and provided running commentary.
“Left or right?”
“You’re supposed to know this. You watched the videos.”
“I watched a man with a mustache wave a wrench around for eight minutes. That doesn’t make me Bob Vila.”
Sobek’s mouth twitched. Rudy had been chattering nonstop since they’d started, a nervous habit that Sobek found oddly endearing.
Every few minutes, Rudy’s knee would brush against Sobek’s shoulder in the cramped space under the sink, and each time, Sobek’s entire focus narrowed to that point of contact.
“Okay, I think that’s it.” Sobek backed out from under the sink. “Turn on the main.”
“If this explodes and kills us both, I’m haunting you first.”
“Noted.”
Rudy disappeared down to the basement. Sobek waited, conscious of three small faces peering around the bathroom doorframe, watching his every move.
Jack’s earlier episode had shaken something loose in Sobek’s carefully maintained distance.
He couldn’t keep pretending these weren’t his hatchlings, his pups, his family.
And Rudy…
Water rushed through the pipes with a healthy gurgle. No leaks. No explosions.
“It worked.” Rudy bounded back upstairs, breathless and grinning. “Oh, my gods, it actually worked. We fixed it.”
“You held the flashlight.”
“I provided moral support and witty banter. That’s at least forty percent of any repair job.
” Rudy tested the faucet, watching water stream into the sink with all the joy of someone watching a miracle unfold.
“Seriously, though. Thank you. You saved me like, three hundred dollars and a weekend of hell.”
“You’re welcome.”
Rudy turned off the water and faced him fully, his expression soft in the bathroom’s dim light. They were close - too close for casual friendliness, near enough that Sobek could count the freckles across Rudy’s nose and see the exact moment something shifted in those blue eyes.
“Can I ask you something?” Rudy’s voice had gone quieter.
“Yes.”
“Why are you really doing all this? The fish, the plumbing, dealing with my kids and their quirks…” Rudy worried his bottom lip. “I keep waiting for the catch. For you to want something in return.”
I want everything. I want you, the little ones, and this messy, perfect life. I want to stop lying about what I am and claim you properly, so the whole world knows you’re mine.
“There’s no catch,” Sobek said instead. “I like being here.”
“With me?”
“Yes. Very much with you.”
Rudy’s cheeks flushed that pretty pink again, and Sobek watched his pulse flutter at the base of his throat.
“Oh,” Rudy breathed. “That’s…okay. Good. Because I really like you being here too. Even when my house is falling apart, and I’m a disaster.”
“Especially then.”
Rudy laughed, the sound shaky and sweet. Before Sobek could second-guess himself, he reached out and tucked a damp curl behind Rudy’s ear. His mate sucked in a sharp breath but didn’t pull away.
“Rudy. Can we have snacks now?” Rose’s voice shattered the moment. “We’ve been waiting forever.”
“Forever meaning twenty minutes,” Jack added helpfully.
Rudy stepped back, breaking the spell, but his smile remained. “Yeah, okay. Kitchen. Let’s see what I can scrounge up that hasn’t been destroyed by the Great Plumbing Crisis.”
The children thundered back downstairs. Sobek gathered his tools, acutely conscious of Rudy’s lingering presence in the doorway.
“Will you stay for dinner?” Rudy asked. “It’s the least I can do after you saved my bathroom.”
Every instinct said yes. His crocodile side had already mentally arranged the table seating - Rudy on his right, hatchlings within easy reach - but the weight of deception sat heavy in Sobek’s chest.
Jack knew what Sobek was, or at least knew that Sobek was more like him than Rudy.
That much had been clear from the pup’s shocked recognition when his fur receded.
And soon, very soon, Rudy would need to know too.
The longer Sobek waited, the worse the betrayal would feel when the truth finally emerged.
But not yet. Not before I’ve built enough trust that he’ll believe the impossible.
“I’d like that,” Sobek said.
Rudy’s answering smile was worth every complicated feeling tangling through Sobek’s chest.