by Noah Harris
“Yeah, I noticed.” His voice was bitter.
Leaning back from their embrace, Blake looked down at Dylan, eyes searching his face. “You … didn’t know that before coming home, did you?”
Dylan hated the way he could read him. He gave one swift shake of his head. “No, but it doesn’t matter.”
Blake leaned back a little more. He was looking at Dylan curiously. “Have you … seen him?”
Dylan’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, I have.”
“And ….?”
“And what?”
“What did you … think of him?”
“He’s the same as he’s ever been.” Blake continued to look at him with a curious and gauging expression. Dylan glared at him. “What?” He snapped.
Blake glanced away. “It’s nothing …”
It was only then that Dylan realized what was bothering Blake. He had been so wrapped up in his own head and his own chaos of emotions that he hadn’t thought about what this might be like for Blake. He had admitted to liking Dylan since they were teenagers and Dylan was dating Ben. Then they finally get together for a few weeks under rocky circumstances, haven’t seen each other in weeks, and Dylan had started ignoring his messages. And now they were both attending the wedding of his brother and Dylan’s ex.
He was feeling self-conscious.
It was something Dylan hadn’t seen on Blake before, which was probably why it had taken him a moment to recognize it. Much like his brother, Blake had an aura of cocky confidence about him. But unlike his brother, who had always had that egotistical confidence, Blake had had to earn it. He had learned to become suave and charming and confident. That was the Blake Dylan had come to know, and that was the Blake that he had, admittedly, fallen for. It was a strange thing to see him sullen and pouting, as subtle as it was.
Unsure what he could say to make him feel better, Dylan did the only thing he wanted to do at that moment: he reached up, took Blake’s face in his hands, and pulled him down into a kiss. He didn’t want to think about Ben and Alex. He didn’t want to think about all the complicated and mixed emotions that were rising to the surface. He didn’t want to think about any of that. He didn’t even want to think about his mixed emotions of whether or not he actually wanted Blake as a mate. All he knew was that his body was reacting to the sudden nearness of Blake’s. It called out for him, yearned for him, and wanted him. He was in a storm of uncertainty and the last time he was emotionally confident of what he wanted was when he was with Blake. He wanted that again. So he kissed the man and gave his body over to him.
Their kiss remained innocent for roughly two seconds before both of them reacted.
Blake tilted his head, getting a better angle and deepening the kiss. His hands settled on his hips, and he slowly walked Dylan backward until his back hit the wall of the hallway. Meanwhile, Dylan continued to devour Blake’s lips, meeting him move for move and drowning in it. Without breaking their heated kiss, Blake bent down, grabbed beneath Dylan’s ass and thighs, and lifted him off the floor. Dylan was ready for it. He wanted it.
Since Dylan had begun his training, he was never picked up. Being picked up typically meant he was about to be thrown to the ground in combat. Since then, he had developed a low tolerance for it. He didn’t like being picked up and was firmly against it when some of his past lovers had tried it. It made him feel vulnerable, and he always liked to be in control. But with Blake, it was as natural as it was comforting to be held by him.
He automatically wrapped his legs around Blake’s waist, locking his ankles behind him. Blake leaned against him, using his weight to pin Dylan to the wall. His hands roamed over his ass and his thighs, feeling and groping. One went to the hem of his shirt, pushing up under it to grab at the bare flesh of his back. His hand was like fire. Blake rocked his hips forward, grinding against Dylan’s. Dylan gasped, and Blake took the opportunity to push his tongue past Dylan’s lips. One of Dylan’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and neck, fingers burying in his white blond hair. His other hand was locked beneath Blake’s arm, wrapped around his back. His hand crawled up beneath his shirt and his fingers groped and clawed at his back.
He was so wrapped up in Blake, his scent, the feeling of his body, the touch of his lips, his hunger, that Dylan didn’t hear the door to the house open.
“Dylan?” They heard his sister’s voice in the kitchen, and they both jumped. They pulled away, breaking their kiss, and Dylan scrambled to get his feet under him as Blake set him down, but they couldn’t get away soon enough. Cynthia came around the corner with their mom in tow. “Dylan, are you-” She froze when she saw them.
“Good heavens!” Their mom exclaimed, right behind her in the doorway.
Even though his feet were on the ground, Blake still had him pushed against the wall. His hands were on Dylan’s hips, and Dylan’s were on his chest. Even if they had leaped apart, the implication of what they were doing was too obvious. They were both frozen, staring at Dylan’s mom and sister. His mouth was open, but no words came out. He didn’t know what to say that would make this situation better.
“Good evening, Mrs. Harrison, Miss Harrison.” When Blake spoke, his voice was as polite, casual, calm, and cocky as ever. He was smooth as ice, despite being caught in an obviously intimate position by Dylan’s family. Blake was smooth as ever as he stepped away from Dylan and turned to face them. He kept a hand on Dylan’s hip, his arm reaching around behind him. Dylan wasn’t sure it was the best idea, but he appreciated the show of support. “I hope you two are having a lovely evening.” He flashed a charming smile, which seemed to do the trick. They both relaxed a little, their looks of shock fading. Dylan was pretty sure Blake had never met his family. Ben had, but Blake hadn’t. Yet he was able to be just as casual and familiar with them as anyone else.
Cynthia’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “What’s going on here?”
“Oh, you know …” Blake gave Dylan’s side a squeeze, rocking them slightly toward each other. Blake looked down at Dylan, smiling. Dylan didn’t smile back. “Just dudes being dudes.”
“You’re Bridget and Daniel’s son.” His mom stated, eyeing Blake.
“That I am. Blake White, at your service.” He gave them a small, half-bow. It was a gesture that would have looked ridiculous and mocking if anyone else had attempted it, but when Blake did it, it just looked natural and charming. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
His mom looked at him; her eye’s searching his face. “Dylan?”
The question was obvious. What the hell was going on? He realized how bad it looked. She knew who Blake was, and the fact that she was here with Cynthia meant she knew that he had just found out that his ex-boyfriend was getting married to his cousin. And here he was, in the hallway of some house, making out with his ex-boyfriend’s little brother. Blake was doing wonders to defuse the situation, but there was only so much he could do with his charm alone. Dylan had to say something. Anything. But he was drawing a blank. He was prepared for so many situations in life, but this wasn’t one of them.
“You haven’t told them yet?” Blake asked, drawing his attention and breaking the silence. Dylan looked up at him, raising his eyebrows. Of course, he hadn’t told them, and he knew that Blake knew that. Blake gave his hip a small squeeze, only noticeable to him.
Dylan swallowed past the lump in his throat and licked his lips. It was like when they were at the Shadow Pack, and Blake had guided Dylan blindly through conversations. “No?”
Blake shook his head, chuckling fondly. “Well, no wonder they look so shocked!” He turned back to Dylan’s mom and sister. “I’m Dylan’s boyfriend.”
Chapter Three
It didn’t take long for them to get over their initial shock and drag the two of them into the kitchen. They were forced to sit down and be subject to an onslaught of questions and interrogations. Dylan put his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. He was mostly silent as he stewed in his embarrassment, but he
occasionally groaned or snapped at his mom as she asked a particularly personal question.
Blake found it all rather amusing and took it all in stride. Compared to what he did as part of his job, infiltrating hostile territory and gaining their trust, Dylan’s family was easy. They were both eager to see the best in him, which helped tremendously, and they were mostly curious about the details of how their relationship came to be. Most of those details Blake couldn’t, and wouldn’t, share with them.
Blake told them that he and Dylan had met on a high-stakes mission, Dylan as a Navy SEAL and Blake as a spy. He told them that due to complications involving his team, Dylan’s cover was nearly blown and he found himself deep within enemy territory. He told them how he had come to the rescue, vouching for Dylan’s alibi and effectively saving his ass. He didn’t tell them that saving his ass involved claiming they were mates. He left that whole charade out of the story. He didn’t want Dylan’s family thinking that their relationship had started out as fake. Which it had, but they didn’t need to know that. And Blake was pretty sure Dylan didn’t want them to know either.
Blake told them that he and Dylan had worked closely together for a while before the mission was over. By then they had already grown close, and they continued communication afterward. He didn’t go into details of their intimacies, but from the way Dylan’s sister was smiling, he had a feeling she knew.
Blake tried to make the story as thrilling, thorough, and engaging as he could with as few details as he could give them. He was worried it might be a little lackluster, but they ate it all up, hanging on his every word. It was times like this when he was reminded how good he was at his job. Then again, intrigued family members were a lot easier than suspicious hostiles.
After he was done, Dylan’s mom made a wistful comment about the strange and fateful twists of life, leading them to meet that far outside their home packs, so many years after they had both left. Blake chuckled, telling them how Dylan hadn’t even recognized him until their stay in enemy territory was nearly at an end. That was surprising to both of them but seemed to raise the romance angle now that they knew Dylan had supposedly fallen for him before he realized who he was.
As soon as the conversation started to die down, Dylan took the opportunity to excuse them both and drag Blake away. He took Blake by the wrist and tugged him toward the front door. His mom shouted something about how Blake should join them for dinner sometimes, and Blake called back that he’d love to. Dylan pulled him outside and around to the side of the house. The block party was still going on close by, but at the side of the house, they were out of sight. There were a woodpile and extra bags of charcoal for the grills and fire pits, but no one was there to claim them. It was getting dark as the sun started to descend below the horizon.
When he had dragged him far enough out of sight, Dylan lets go of his wrist and rounded on him. “What the hell was that?”
“What the hell was what?”
Dylan waved his hands around in a vague gesture toward the house. “You know. That. Boyfriends?”
Blake shrugged, crossing his arms casually across his chest. He leaned against the side of the house. “You froze, and I was just trying to help. You looked like you needed it.”
“I don’t need your help dealing with my family.”
“Apparently you do.” Blake teased, smirking. He watched as Dylan frowned and glared at him. It had been several weeks since he had seen him, and damn, but he had missed him. The man was so adorably expressive, even though he tried not to be. Blake was sure most of it was subtle enough that a lot of it went right over the heads of most, but to Blake, each expression was as loud and clear as a bulletin board. And he adored that fact.
“But …” Dylan sighed, putting one hand on his hip and using his other hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Boyfriends? Seriously? That sounds so … so …”
“Juvenile?”
“Yes, exactly.”
Blake shrugged again, tilting his head to the side. “I thought it was fitting. Seeing as we’re in our childhood town, where neither of us has been since we were juveniles.”
“Still, aren’t you supposed to be a master of lies? Why couldn’t you have come up with one that didn’t involve us being involved?”
Blake exhaled a short laugh. His eyes danced with amusement. “And tell them what? That you were just feeling my chest for fun? That I was moving you away from the bathroom by your hips? That we were standing that close because we could barely hear one another? That the blush and look of horror on your face had absolutely nothing to do with the embarrassment of being caught mid make out?” He raised an eyebrow for emphasis.
Dylan looked away. “I don’t blush.”
“You do, and you did.” Blake reached out, taking Dylan’s wrist in his and gently tugging him toward him. Dylan gave in after a moment and stepped closer to Blake until they were toe to toe. One of his hands went to Dylan’s hip while the other reached up to run his fingers along his hairline, down the side of his face, and around his ear. His hair was shorter than it had been when they were together last. As much as he preferred it longer, the shorter hair still suited him. “I am a master of lies, but the lie needs to be believable. I went with the only one that seemed reasonable, which more or less turned out to be the truth.”
Dylan was still frowning, his brows furrowed as he searched Blake’s face. Then he sighed, eyes going down and away. “I guess you’re right.” Blake continued to stroke his face, letting his fingers slowly caress and feel all the curves and angles he hadn’t seen in so long. His fingers traced down his jaw to his chin before sliding down his neck. Whether Dylan realized it or not, he started to lean into the touch. “I’m never going to hear the end of this.”
Blake smirked, small and amused. “I could have told them we were mates.” He said softly.
Dylan’s eyes shot back up, searching Blake’s. Blake had forgotten how beautiful his eyes were. Hazel, with brilliant gold and green flecks. Dylan’s mouth had gone slack in surprise, but his lips pressed together in a small, barely perceptible frown. “Why didn’t you?” He asked softly. Not accusatory, but curious and cautious.
Blake’s smile softened, and he chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Dylan, you’re not as subtle as you think you are. It’s obvious that you’re feeling anxious about the whole being mates thing.” Dylan froze, tensing up beneath Blake’s fingers. His eyes widened, staring at Blake’s. He tilted his head to the side, feeling his blond hair fall across his forehead. Dylan started to look away, but Blake caught his chin, forcing him to continue looking up at him. When he continued, his voice was soft and reassuring, and perhaps a little sad. Though that might have just been to his own ears. “I admit, we did rush into the whole being mates for real thing, and that is entirely my fault. I wanted it to be real, and I didn’t want to lose you just because the mission was over. I should have known better. Violent delights have violent ends.”
Dylan frowned, his brow furrowing slightly. “Where’s that from?”
Blake’s smile widened a fraction. “Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet.”
The corner of Dylan’s lips twitched. “Seriously? You quoted Shakespeare at me?”
“I’m charming, aren’t I?”
Dylan rolled his eyes. “Sure, if it’s charming to quote the play where the two lovers die.”
Blake chuckled. “You got me there. But I see it more as a warning.” His smile faded, letting a rare seriousness show through. His thumb lightly caressed Dylan’s bottom lip. “I know you’re scared, and I know you’re having doubts. No, let me finish.” He said quickly, cutting off the reply Dylan was about to make. “There’s no use denying it. You’ve been avoiding my messages for a week. I know that’s what’s happening. Dylan,” His eyes had started to wander, unable to hold eye contact out of guilt or shame. Blake waited until he looked at him again. “I’ve waited too long to lose you this soon. It’s my fault for moving too quickly before you were ready. We don’t have to jump
straight to mates. Perhaps, if you’ll have me, we can try boyfriends first?”
Dylan stared at him for a long time, searching his eyes. Blake stared back at him, letting all of his sincerity and honesty rise to the surface. He felt incredibly vulnerable. Blake usually didn’t allow this much of himself to rise to the surface. He spent his life pretending to be people he wasn’t. It was part of his job, and it was why he was so good at infiltration. He had picked up a lesson or two in cocky confidence from his brother, but it wasn’t until after he had left here that he had finally started to flourish. He never let anyone close to him. Not really. Not earnestly. No one except for Dylan. But Dylan was special. He desperately wanted things to work with him. He was the only man Blake ever truly felt like he had loved.
Blake didn’t let Dylan in completely, however. He was still hiding emotions from him. Like his panic and his dread and his terror. All those anxiety inducing emotions that he had started to feel as soon as Dylan started ignoring and avoiding his messages. Luckily he hadn’t reacted rashly. He was far too versed in patience for that. Still, that didn’t stop the way his gut was twisted, making him feel nauseous as he waited for Dylan’s answer. He hoped he came across as calm, and not like the absolute mess that he felt like.
Then, slowly, the corner of Dylan’s lip twitched. His cheeks lifted, squinting his eyes in such a way that Blake realized Dylan was smiling. “Did you just ask me out?”
Blake felt his lips curve in response. “And if I did?”
Dylan put his hands on Blake’s waist, his arms wrapping around him until his fingers could lock behind his back. Dylan sighed. “Well, my family already thinks we’re dating, and by now half the pack does, too. So I suppose I can accept your proposal.”
Blake leaned forward, moving his thumb aside and cupping Dylan’s face as he kissed him. “You won’t regret it.”
“I better not,” Dylan said against his lips.
Blake smirked, touching their foreheads together. He cooed. “I’ll woo you all over again.” His other hand wrapped around Dylan’s waist, pulling him close. “And this time, it’ll be without a dragon shifter’s pack breathing down our necks.”
