Chapter Nine
“You have a lot of doors.” Embarrassed at how he’d run out on a chance of intimacy with his beautiful mate the night before, Sobek was back the next morning, looking for more excuses to stick around and be helpful.
If he couldn’t kiss his mate the way he wanted to, because Rudy still didn’t know the truth about him and what they were to each other, then he could at least complete some of the fix-it jobs that needed doing and the doors were a good start.
There were six that he could see on the ground floor, and he was sure there was many more upstairs.
Rudy looked up from where he was attempting to convince Rose that pants were, in fact, a requirement for breakfast. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Doors. You have a lot of them, and they all seem to stick.”
“Oh.” Rudy finally succeeded in getting Rose’s second leg through the purple leggings, though she immediately tried to pull them off again. “Yeah, the house is old. Everything sticks or squeaks or both. Why?”
“I’ll fix them.”
Rudy paused, one hand still restraining Rose’s escape attempt. “You...want to fix my doors?”
“Yes.”
“All of them?”
“Yes.”
“That’s going to take…”
“Today.” Sobek had already ordered the necessary supplies through the Paulie app last night, along with proper tools. They’d materialized in his trunk an hour ago. “I have time.”
Rudy’s expression went through several shifts - confusion, amusement, something that looked dangerously close to fondness. “You know you don’t have to keep finding projects around my house, right? You can just...visit. If you want to.”
Sobek’s chest tightened. If you want to.
As if there was any question. As if Sobek could stay away even if he tried, which he had, for approximately six hours after fleeing last night, before his crocodile side had driven him back this morning with a trunk full of door-fixing supplies and the world’s flimsiest excuse.
“The doors stick,” Sobek repeated, because apparently that was his entire argument now.
Rudy’s smile bloomed into something close to a chuckle. “Okay. Fix the doors. But I’m making you lunch, and you’re not arguing about it.”
“I would not…”
“You argued about dinner last week for ten minutes before I literally put a plate in your hands and told you to shut up and eat.”
Sobek had no defense against that. He’d been caught off guard by the casual domesticity of it all, overwhelmed by the sensation of belonging somewhere he had no right to be.
The arguing had been a delay tactic while his brain caught up to the fact that his mate was feeding him, in their home, with their children laughing around them.
“Fine,” Sobek conceded. “Lunch. No arguing.”
“Good. Now come help me catch Rose before she strips naked and climbs the bookshelf again.”
/~/~/~/~/
Two hours later, Sobek understood why Rudy’s patience levels were superhuman.
“Jack. Move.”
“But I wanna see.”
“You are seeing. From there.” Sobek pointed to the spot three feet away where Jack had been standing before creeping closer again.
“But I can’t see what you’re doing with the thingy…”
“Screwdriver.”
“…the screwdriver thingy when Rose is in the way.”
“I’m not in the way.” Rose’s indignant voice came from approximately six inches to Sobek’s left, where she’d wedged herself between him and the doorframe. “You’re in the way.”
“Neither of you is helping.” Sobek removed the hinge pin with more force than strictly necessary. “You are supposed to be observing.”
“What’s ob-serv-ing?” Timothy appeared at Sobek’s right elbow, having somehow manifested from thin air. The child moved like water when he wanted to.
“That’s watching without touching.”
“Oh.” Timothy pressed closer, his small body warm against Sobek’s side. “I’m good at that.”
Sobek chuckled. “You’re stabbing me with your elbow.”
“That’s touching, not watching.”
“Rose, your claws…” Sobek caught her hand before she could grab the doorknob he’d just removed. Her fingernails had sharpened to points again, tiny curved hooks that would’ve scratched the brass. “Remember what we practiced?” he added quietly.
Rose scrunched up her face in concentration. Her fingernails receded slowly, reluctantly. “Like that?”
“Good. Now go sit with Jack.”
“But…”
“Sit.”
The command came out rougher than intended, edged with the authority of an ancient god. All three children froze, then scrambled to obey with wide eyes.
Sobek closed his eyes briefly. Gentle. I have to be gentle with them. Rudy would never use that tone with them, would never make them look startled and uncertain like…
“That was cool.” Jack bounced on his heels from his new position by the stairs. “You sounded like a general or something.”
“Do it again.” Rose clapped her hands, completely unbothered.
Timothy just pressed closer to Sobek’s leg, scales flickering across his forearms before disappearing. Sobek’s heart did that flutter thing that he was slowly recognizing was to do with deep feelings.
“I’m not a general,” he said quietly, refitting the hinge. “And I should not have spoken harshly.”
“Daddy uses his Serious Voice sometimes,” Jack offered. “When we do really dangerous stuff. Like when Rose tried to eat glass.”
“She what…”
“It was sparkly,” Rose protested. “How was I supposed to know it would cut my mouth?”
Sobek looked toward the kitchen, where Rudy was singing off-key while making grilled cheese sandwiches, blissfully unaware that his mate was having a crisis about whether their four-year-old had adequate self-preservation instincts.
Their four-year-old. Their children. Sobek had given up seeing the kids in any other way.
“No eating glass,” Sobek said firmly. “Or anything sparkly. Or anything that’s not food.”
“What about glitter?”
“Especially not glitter.”
“But…”
“Rose.” Sobek caught her gaze and held it. “No.”
She deflated with a dramatic sigh that would’ve made Horus proud. “Fine.”
Sobek returned his attention to the door, aware of six eyes watching his every movement. The children had crept closer again, forming a semi-circle around him like ducklings around their parent.
Not their parent. Their guardian’s...what?
Boyfriend? Potential mate that their guardian didn’t know was their mate?
Random neighbor who kept showing up with fish and tools?
Sobek had negotiated a million things over the years, but he’d never been as bad at defining a relationship the way he was now.
“Can I try?” Jack leaned forward eagerly.
“Try what?”
“The screwdriver thingy.”
Sobek hesitated, then handed over the tool. “Turn it slowly. Don’t force it.”
Jack’s face lit up. He approached the hinge with intense concentration, tongue poking out between his teeth. The screw turned half a rotation before Jack’s grip slipped.
“Like this?” Jack adjusted his hold, tried again.
“Good. Keep the pressure steady.”
“I wanna try.” Rose surged forward.
“After Jack finishes.”
“But…”
“Rose.”
She subsided with another theatrical sigh, but stayed close, watching Jack work with bright, eager eyes.
Timothy had migrated from Sobek’s leg to his lap at some point, settling in like he belonged there - which he did.
All three of them belonged in Sobek’s life, along with their clueless guardian.
Sobek’s protective instincts flared every time one of them smiled, called his name, or showed their trust in him.
Looking down at Timothy’s dark head, Sobek marveled at the way the child had curled into him as if Sobek was his safe space.
I have to tell Rudy today. The thought surfaced like it did every morning. Right after lunch. I’ll explain everything. About me, about the children, about what we are to each other.
But even as he thought it, Sobek was already having doubts.
Because what if Rudy couldn’t handle the truth?
What if learning about gods, shifters, and immortality made Rudy run?
What if Sobek lost them all because he’d waited too long, built too many lies, let Rudy fall for someone who didn’t actually exist?
“You okay?”
Sobek’s head jerked up. Rudy stood in the doorway - the unstuck, properly functioning doorway - holding a plate of sandwiches and watching Sobek with bright eyes.
“Fine.”
“You looked like you were planning a murder.”
“I was not…” Sobek stopped, aware of three pairs of ears listening intently. “Thinking. I was thinking.”
“About murder?”
“About doors.”
Rudy’s smile said he didn’t believe that for a second, but he let it slide. “Lunch is ready. Jack, put down the screwdriver before you accidentally perform surgery on yourself.”
“But I almost got it.”
“And you can finish after lunch. Come on, munchkins. Food.”
The children scrambled toward the kitchen in a chaotic tumble of limbs and laughter. Timothy paused long enough to pat Sobek’s hand, his tiny palm warm against Sobek’s knuckles, before running after his siblings.
Sobek stood slowly, joints protesting from sitting on the floor too long. When he looked up, Rudy was still watching him with that expression - soft, uncertain, and hopeful all at once.
“You’re good with them,” Rudy said quietly.
“They are easy to be good with.”
“They’re really not.” Rudy laughed, but there was something vulnerable underneath it. “Most people can’t handle them for ten minutes. You’ve been here for hours, and you’re not even twitching.”
Because they’re mine. The words sat on Sobek’s tongue, so ready to be spoken out loud. Because you’re all mine, and I would raze cities for you, and every day I don’t tell you that feels like a betrayal.
“I like being here,” Sobek said instead. At least that was true.
Rudy’s expression shifted. “Good. Because I like you being here too.”