Just Like Cats and Dogs

by BA Tortuga

  “For a phone call? Should be. These people are desperately poor.” He grinned. “Put the rest of that back, though, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  Cole put the money away, and it was pretty damned quiet until someone brought them water and a bowl of some kind of… something. Maybe soup. Gus waited until the pimple-faced kid set down the trays and slid them through the long slot under the bars before he spoke.

  “You speak English?”

  The kid gave him a carefully blank look. Gus sighed, flicking his hand open to show the hundred dollar bills. “You speak American?”

  Now those eyes flickered with interest.

  Gus smiled and nodded. Then he made the universal sign for a phone, holding his pinkie and thumb out from his fist and putting his hand to his ear. “I get the phone, you get the money.”

  He could see that the kid got what he was saying. The furtive, side to side look said a lot, as in the kid was weighing his chances. Sadly, Gus knew there wouldn’t just be a cell tower floating around out here, so the kid would have to get him to a landline.

  “Shit.” Cole cursed when the kid left, and Gus slumped back against the wall.

  He sniffed the food. “It’s not drugged. Just potatoes and salt.”

  “Cool.”

  They sat there, staring at their toes, though. Gus was pissed he might have lost his chance to get them the hell out of there.

  They were both dozing, heads bobbing, when the door opened, making them scramble.

  The kid stood there, holding a weapon, some sort of submachine gun. Short but powerful. Gus thought for sure the guy was there to just steal the money, but the kid jerked his head at Gus, nodding for him to come with.

  Gus stood, hands up, and slowly went to the door. “If I don’t come back, you know who to notify, man.”

  Cole nodded. “I got your back, man.”

  Gus went. He had to try. And sure enough, the kid led him through a series of dark halls to a small room with a phone and a table and chair. Damn. This was like some kind of movie. Where were all the rest of the prisoners? Maybe this was just an outpost or holding area or something. He’d expected the kind of shit he’d seen on that foreign drug and jail show.

  When no one popped out of the walls the minute Gus picked up the phone, he dialed. He knew the number he dialed by heart and knew that the guy on the other end would have Sam on speed dial.

  “Hello?”

  “Petey?”

  “Gus. I—man, I been trying to get ahold of you. Shit is hitting the fan here.”

  Crap. He hated to be the bearer of more bad news. “Petey, I swear I’ll help when I get home, but I don’t have much time. I need you to listen.”

  “Okay.” He could hear the focus in Pete’s voice, knew his brother had caught the urgency in his voice. “What do you need?”

  “I’m in a holding center in Afghanistan. They’re holding me on smuggling charges. My passport is in Uzbekistan, in a locker at Termez. My fake papers say my name is Gus Firestone. I’m somewhere near Khulm. I was stopped at a security checkpoint. The coordinates I checked last were 36.877277 and 67.461548 give or take. I need you to get ahold of Sam, get him to use his contacts….”

  “Gus. Gus, the moon is in like four days.”

  “I know that. That’s why I need you to get on this right away. I—” The sound of running feet, clad in heavy boots, came to him, moving fast. “Shit. Tell me you wrote it down, Pete. Tell me.”

  “I did. I did. I’ll get you out of there, Gus. I’ll do it.”

  The men attached to the boots came bursting into the room then, three of them. One took out his young guard with a single blow. The other two came after him, hitting him with the butts of their guns. Gus went to his knees, grunting, his already bruised kidneys screaming.

  “Gus?” He could hear Pete shouting at him. “Gus, what’s going on? Gus, talk to me.”

  The last thing he thought before someone whacked him right in the head was that he’d never gotten to give that poor kid his money.

  “SAM?”

  He sat up in bed, rolling his shoulders, shaking his head, and blinking at the phone. “What?”

  “Sam, it’s Pete. You there?”

  He nodded. He was. He was sore from a week of hard-core rehearsals and a fucking party with some crazy-assed absinthe that had left him cotton-mouthed and stupid, but yeah. He was there.

  Really.

  “Sam?”

  “What, man. What the fuck time is it?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know, 2:00 a.m., maybe? Shit’s hitting the fan here.”

  “Shit? What kind of shit? Is my mom okay?” He was up and moving before he thought, grabbing a robe and hitting the On button on the coffeepot.

  “Yeah. Yeah. Lizzie… she lost the pups, Sam, and then….”

  “Oh, fuck. I’m sorry, Pete.”

  “They were….” Pete swallowed. “They weren’t right.”

  Sam sighed, wishing he had one of Gus’s cigarettes. Pete had to know it was a chance. “I’m sorry, buddy. You know she….”

  “Hey, we’ll try again. Doc says it’s not her. It’s just a miscarriage. She’s fine. I’m marrying her, no matter what.”

  “Well, good.” Why that meant a phone call in the wee hours, Sam didn’t know, though.

  “Yeah. Anyway, I need your help, man.”

  “Getting married?”

  He heard Pete growl. “No! With Gus!”

  He shook his head, poured a cup of coffee. Gus? He hadn’t heard a peep from Gus in months. “Gus doesn’t have to be there to get you married.”

  “Sam, are you drunk?”

  “No, asshole. I was asleep.” And he was getting bitchy.

  “Gus is in trouble. Big trouble.”

  Sam counted to ten under his breath. He swore, if Petey told him Gus had gotten some she-wolf knocked up…. “What kind of trouble?”

  “The trouble where he’s in Afghanistan and arrested and the full moon’s in less than a week.”

  Sam’s coffee mug shattered where it landed on the floor. “He’s where?”

  “Fucking Afghanistan. They’ve accused him of smuggling. He’s hurt and he’s trapped and the moon’s coming. You get me? The full fucking moon. I have coordinates. I have…. He’s hurt, Sam.”

  “Okay. Okay, Pete.” Suddenly Sam was wide awake, eyes burning in his head. “You breathe. I need details. I need to know which favors to call in and where to send money.”

  “Oh. Oh God. I told Mom you’d be able to fix this. I knew it. Gus said to call you.”

  “Uh-huh. Details, man. Now. I have shit to do.” He wasn’t leaving his mate to rot on the other side of the fucking world. He knew a lot of people with a lot of pull. There was no way Gus was stuck there hurt and wolfed out.

  No way.

  Never.

  Chapter Fourteen

  HE STOOD at the platform, waiting impatiently. They only had so many hours before sunset. This was the safest time for him to be out—all the other cats would have gone to ground, and the way they were hunting him, that was a blessing—but he still didn’t want to be out when the shift happened. He didn’t have a fucking death wish, after all.

  Sam couldn’t fucking believe Gus was here, in the city, during the moon. He’d pulled strings—pulled them hard—to get Gus out of jail and into the country, but this was the closest they could get the man safely.

  When Gus finally did appear, Sam almost didn’t recognize him. The man looked like hell: skinny, ragged, and heavily bruised along one cheek and the side of his jaw and neck. No wonder Gus had been desperate enough to call him.

  His nostrils flared; he couldn’t help it. “Gus.”

  Gus offered a slow, crooked grin. “Hey, Puss.”

  “I have a car to take us. We don’t have long.” He grinned back, nodded. “You made it okay. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.” Gus touched his shoulder, following him when he turned to lead the way. “I couldn’t—no one else woul
d have been able to get me out of there before the moon.”

  “It’s good to know a ballerina’s mafia uncles.”

  “I guess so.” Gus laughed, the sound almost a rusty bark.

  “Did your friend make it to Paris?”

  “Cole? Yeah. Yeah, as far as I know. We decided it was best to cut off contact until after the moon, just in case.”

  The long black car waited for them, and he held the door open for Gus. “Hop in. Chris, take us home, yes?”

  “You got it, boss.”

  Gus sat next to him on the big seat, sinking back against the upholstery. “Oh, man. Nice ride. It’s actually quiet in here.”

  “You know it. Sometimes you just need to rest.” He slid over to the minibar, poured two whiskeys, and handed one over.

  “Thanks.” Gus sucked it down and handed the glass back.

  “One more?”

  Gus’s scent was everywhere. Fucking everywhere. It was not as clean and fresh as usual, but it was his mate.

  “Yeah. Yeah. I—” Gus moved closer. “I’m sorry, Sam. For all the trouble.”

  “No worries.” He wouldn’t leave Gus to that; he couldn’t. Gus was… family. It was fucked-up, but there it was.

  One big hand landed on his thigh. “Are you going to be okay with me here? For the moon?”

  “My house is safe, protected, and there’s fresh meat, milk.” Tuna.

  “Cool. Cool. I’ve never been that close to being fucked….” Gus was a little wild around the eyes. Sam couldn’t have stopped his purr if he’d wanted to. Deep and low, it was the best comfort he could offer. That big body settled a little. “I’ve never been in a city this big on the moon either.”

  “I have a loft. It’s perfect. There’s a skylight.” Toys. Cushions.

  “Perfect.” Shaking his head, Gus snorted. “You’re a city mouse, babe.”

  “There’s nowhere else for me.”

  “We’ll see.” There was something there in Gus’s tone, but he really didn’t have time to dwell on it now.

  They pulled into the basement of his building, and he tipped Chris. “Day after tomorrow, I’ll need you to deliver groceries.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  “Thanks.” Gus smiled at Chris, and it almost looked less than predatory.

  Sam got them in the elevator, moving up. The pressure to get them inside was bigger now. Inside. In the den. Safe. Locked away.

  Gus shifted from foot to foot, hands clenching and unclenching.

  “You’re okay. We’re at the top floor.” All the way in the penthouse.

  “Wow. I guess it’s defensible, huh?”

  “Yeah. There aren’t any people for three floors underneath me, just storage.”

  “Oh, good.” That seemed to help Gus relax a bit.

  “I know this isn’t perfect for you, but I promise you, you will be safe.”

  “I know.” He thought he felt Gus’s fingers on his shoulder, a tiny touch. “Thank you.”

  He shivered, purred softly. Mated with a wolf. God hated him. Hated him. All Sam could do was pray that it was only one-sided.

  They got to his penthouse, and Gus started chuckling the moment he turned the lights on. “Wow. Kitty heaven. I can see why you live in such a shitty neighborhood.”

  Sam felt his cheeks turn bright red. The loft was… sparkly. Bright. Soft cushions covered every surface, and toys dangled from the ceiling.

  “Hey, you’ve seen my bolt-hole at the mine. Bones and blankets.” Gus stroked his back, another fleeting touch.

  “You can run outside, though. Are you hungry?” His entire body arched.

  “I could eat, sure.” Gus moved a little closer, hot against his back.

  His eyes crossed. Oh. Oh, God yes. His ass rubbed against Gus, the motion totally out of his control.

  “You’re warm.” Gus pressed right up against him now, nothing fleeting about it.

  “I am. You’re safe. Safe now.”

  “Yeah.” Gus breathed the word against his neck. “I can usually take care of myself, you know? This was… bad. Stupid of us, and we probably deserved it, but I was fucking scared.”

  “Yeah. Breathe.” The sun was going down. “I have you, Gus. You’re safe.”

  Gus wrapped both arms around him, shaking a little. “I’m…. It’s almost time.”

  “We should get naked. The steaks are on the counter already. There’s water dishes too.”

  “I promise not to eat your tuna.” Subdued Gus was almost painful. He wanted snarky Gus back. Gus moved closer, leaning a little. It was easy, now, with Gus here, with the scent of the man everywhere, to nuzzle and touch, lick.

  Gus held him, arms strong around him even as unsteady as the big body was.

  “You’re okay.” He drew Gus over onto one of the cushions. “The moon’s coming.”

  “Oh, yeah. Even here I can feel it.” Gus started to shake. Someone was an early changer.

  “The windows let her in.” He rubbed his cheeks on Gus’s.

  “Mmm. The benefits of being on the top floor.” Gus scented him, all over him.

  “Yes. Privacy. View. Windows.” He purred loudly, his entire body on fire.

  “Meat.” Gus’s voice was nothing but a growl.

  “Yes. There’s plenty for you.” He tried to roll up to find some, but a mostly clawed paw stopped him. Gus barked with laughter before that bruised body started to change. Sam backed off, half focused on Gus, half focused on his own change.

  Gus howled, making him glad he didn’t have those close neighbors. Anyone who might hear would think it was a nature documentary or something. He rowled back in response, the lines of his den going sharp-edged as he ran, and leaped on one of his ledges to stare down.

  Gus barked, golden wolfy eyes staring up at him, tongue lolling from Gus’s mouth. That tail wagged, just the tiniest bit. He peered down, whiskers twitching, the urge to play huge. His mate. Home.

  How exciting!

  Gus danced a little for him, more comfortable in the wolf, low noises coming from deep in that throat. Sam crouched, body vibrating, readying to pounce. Gus barked and ran, tearing around the room. A moving target.

  Oh.

  Oh.

  Oh.

  He yowled happily and sprang, getting nothing but tail as he landed.

  He spat out a mouthful of tiny hairs, his claws digging into a cushion as he took another leap.

  This time he overshot, landing right in front of Gus, and they went tumbling, rolling end over end on the soft floor. Gus chuffed, swacking him with one big front paw before pushing up and tearing around in another circle. He gave chase, head down, tail up.

  Gus turned on him all of a sudden, bouncing right at him. They crashed together with a howl and a yowl. They smashed against each other, paws batting together harmlessly. Gus’s teeth glanced off Sam’s shoulder. He swiped Gus’s hindquarters, twisted to nip the fuzzy tail. Gus yelped, but there was no pain in the sound. Just joy.

  They bumped heads, then scented each other. Gus yawned, jaws almost unhinging to show healthy teeth and a long pink tongue, and Sam sniffed, eyes crossing as the tongue unfurled.

  Gus bit him once, right on the ear, then tugged him toward the pillows sprawled in one corner. He purred happily, bounced over. Soft. Springy. Good. This was his favorite spot.

  Gus curled up, nose to tail, sighing hard.

  They would nap. Then they would eat. Then play.

  He licked Gus’s nose, rumbling. Gus huffed a little, a happy noise, and nuzzled him before settling, one paw against Sam’s chest.

  He took a deep breath, then settled too, stretching lazily. Good.

  Somehow, he’d never thought he’d be able to say that about sleeping with a wolf.

  GUS WOKE up naked, human, and sore as anything. He and Sam had woken from their nap and played. Eaten. Then played some more. Sam’s house was hilarious, magical, filled with the weirdest crap he’d ever seen.

  Sam rolled over, purring softly, tail thum
ping on his flank.

  Still a cat, then. Someone changed late. As he watched, Sam slowly, slowly changed, becoming the lean, strong man. Those legs. Man, they could kick.

  Sam yawned, stretched, rolled for him, so he reached out and stroked that fine belly, fingers catching on the hairs. Bright green eyes flashed at him, laughing. “Mmmmmmorning.”

  “Hey, babe.” It felt good here. Settled.

  “Hey.” Sam rolled over, nosing his belly for a second. “Smell good.”

  He smelled like them, like wolf. Gus’s toes curled up a little, his hand sliding through Sam’s hair.

  “Hungry?”

  “I could munch.” He could nibble on Sam too.

  “Mmm. I’ll see what there is.” Sam rolled up, motion liquid.

  “Cool.” Rising up on one elbow, he watched that tight ass sway.

  It made his mouth water, made him growl deep in his throat. His body tightened, his scalp prickling. Yeah. He wanted that. Bright green eyes flashed back at him, challenging somehow. Gus sprang to his feet, shaking out his limbs a little before following.

  Sam had grabbed steaks, coffee, and a carton of eggs by the time he got in there.

  Gus slid his arms around Sam’s waist, nuzzling the back of Sam’s neck. He could eat Sam alive, and his tongue came out to taste that bit of skin. Sam’s purr vibrated him, mouth to thighs, his pretty Puss starting to undulate.

  He let his hands wander, Sam’s belly particularly fascinating. The skin there was soft, a little fuzzy, but the muscles were hard.

  “I was going to cook….”

  His fingers traced each and every little ridge. “I know. I’m hungry, even. Want you more.”

  He could feel, from that long, curved cock swelling up toward his hand, that Sam wanted him too. He touched just the head, fingers tracing the flared edge. So hot.

  “Gus.” The single word was the hottest thing he’d ever heard, Sam’s legs parting.

  “Yeah. Need so bad.” His cock ached, and he rubbed it against Sam’s ass. Sam’s hips started rocking, slow and steady, the lean muscles working his cock, making promises.

  Fuck. He wanted in. He also wanted to tease them both. He bit again, growling loud enough that he knew Sam felt it. Sam shifted against him, breath coming fast, and Gus reached down to touch the long cock waiting for him. He touched super carefully, fingers almost dancing over the tight skin.