by Alex DuBois
“I just made you pregnant,” Malachai said, his tone low and surprisingly respectful. It was a big thing.
Johnny shook his head, looking around him at the burned bedding.
“I can’t deal with this. I can’t.” Looking into Johnny’s eyes, Malachai had to admit that was probably true. Nothing like this had ever touched Johnny’s world before. That was very clear from how he’d acted.
“Do you want me to go?” Malachai didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay and take care of his mate. His pregnant mate. His human side was going to have to overrule his dragon on this one, though.
“Yeah, I really do,” Johnny said quietly, and Malachai winced. He’d hoped somehow Johnny would need him around, but no. Johnny needed space, and he was in no danger here in his own apartment.
Through their emotional link, he could tell that he really did need to leave, or he could ruin things between them. Johnny was his mate, of course, but that didn’t mean that the human couldn’t fight against it and make things uncomfortable for both of them. So he sighed, then scrawled his number on a notepad on Johnny’s fridge.
“Call me. When you want me, if you have questions. Anything.”
Johnny nodded, lying down in his scorched bed as if too exhausted to sit up. Malachai looked him over, then gently tugged the sheets over his mate and forced himself to leave. He hated to do it, but there really wasn’t any other proper choice.
He would be watching, though. He would make sure nothing happened to separate him from his mate. He’d waited six hundred years to meet him, he could wait one more night.
Chapter Two
Johnny
By the time Johnny had woken up, he’d decided that he’d just imagined the whole thing. It had probably just been a product of too much alcohol. The fact that he hadn’t even drunk much didn’t really matter. Clearly it had been more than he’d thought.
Studiously avoiding the charred, crispy sheets on his bed, he rolled out of it and staggered to his feet, only to be hit by the most incredibly intense surge of tiredness that he’d ever felt in his entire life.
It was not the sort of thing he was used to. He’d always been active and he wasn’t prone to sickness. On the other hand, last night had been strange. He was probably just low on sleep.
One thing Johnny knew about himself was that he tended to avoid things rather than confronting them head on. It worked out well enough, and even if it didn’t, it was far better to avoid this than deal with what had happened with the redhead he’d had there. The things that had happened, had been said, and how utterly incomprehensible the whole thing was.
By the time Johnny had dragged himself through the shower, he had convinced himself that he felt a little bit better. So he decided to do the same thing he did pretty much every day, at least during the summer, and go to the beach.
Even with all his denial, though, he had to admit that he was glad that he didn’t have to work that day.
* * *
The tiredness did seem to get better as Johnny kept moving, so that was something. He grabbed his surfboard, packed his old van up with it and a spare change of clothes, and called it good.
Surfing was exactly what he needed, he decided. To get out into the water and pit his body against it, that was really what he lived for. He’d always loved the ocean. His parents liked to joke that he’d been swimming before he was walking. Or maybe that wasn’t a joke, he wasn’t sure.
Regardless, it was energizing for him, and he parked his car and got out with a sigh of relief. In moments, he was paddling out, then rising up to his feet and letting the waves bring him back in to shore as he balanced on the board that had seen him do this exact same thing countless times.
His tiredness didn’t matter anymore, just as he’d known it wouldn’t. While he was surfing, he had to focus entirely on what he was doing, or end up sucked down into the green depths of the ocean. All that mattered was the sun, the smell of salt in the air, and the board under his feet.
How much time passed, Johnny didn’t know or care. All he really knew was that the waves had died down and that someone was watching him. For how long, he wasn’t sure, but he could feel their eyes on him and realized that he had been able to for quite some time.
When he looked up to see who it was, he looked right into the dark blue eyes of the gorgeous redhead that he’d spent the night with just the previous night. Johnny was a very good surfer, but when he met those eyes, he lost the wave he was on and went under for the first time that day.
All of a sudden, it was impossible not to think about the crazy things that had been said to him. The strange things that had happened to him. Comfortable in the ocean, Johnny closed his eyes and wasn’t sure if he hoped Malachai would be there when he surfaced or not.
* * *
Of course, he was. Part of Johnny had known that he would be. Part of him had been aware of him in a way that he didn’t know how to explain. Even when he’d been telling himself none of it had happened, he had somehow not been able to push Malachai from his head.
When Johnny came up, he pulled his board out of the water and walked over to where Malachai was sitting, looking amused. Then again, even in their short acquaintance, it seemed to Johnny that Malachai pretty much always looked amused.
So beautiful, too. Somehow he’d thought he couldn’t possibly be remembering just how gorgeous Malachai was correctly. Hair the exact color of fire, dark blue eyes, pale, completely unblemished skin, slender, perfect body ... He was perfect. Pure and simple, the embodiment of what Johnny found attractive in a man. Though how he kept himself from burning in the hot California sun with skin that pale, he didn’t know.
Johnny dragged his board up onto the beach, then crossed his arms, trying to be stern as he looked down at the other man. He wasn’t very good at stern, though. It wasn’t an expression his face knew how to do.
“What are you doing here?” Johnny asked, and he wanted to sound less curious and more strict than he did. Oh well, he was who he was, and the honest truth of the matter was that part of him, a large part, was glad to see Malachai. Part of him felt instantly happier when they were together, and the odd, dragging fatigue that had been bothering him even stopped being as oppressive.
Malachai gave him a smile, and Johnny shivered a little. It was a nice smile. Far too sexy, though, damn the man.
“I came to the beach and I was called to you,” the redhead said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. The problem was, Johnny thought he understood, even though the words should have been almost nonsense. “Do you want me to leave?”
The idea should have been welcome, except that it instead made him want to fly into a panic. Not that panicking was really his usual style, but he might make an exception.
Dropping his board down beside Malachai, Johnny perched on it, using it as a sort of beach blanket. He settled down, maybe too close to Malachai, considering he still wasn’t sure what to do about the previous evening.
“No,” he finally admitted, “But I should. That was some messed up shit that happened last night, babe.”
Malachai snorted softly, a smirk on his full, pretty lips. Johnny had always found confidence to be sexy and Malachai exuded it, no matter how strange he was.
“You mean the fire thing,” Malachai commented, and Johnny, who had been trying his best not to think about that too much, winced a little bit. He nodded, though, because yes, that had been among the most messed up of many messed up things.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to.”
Johnny looked at him, amused. Sorry about that. He hadn’t meant to. Like that made it all make sense. It did help a little, though, and he gave a little shrug of acknowledgment.
“So, you want to go get some coffee or something?” Malachai finally asked, breaking the silence, awkward but not completely unpleasant, that had fallen between them.
“Don’t most people do the dating thing before the sex thing?” Johnny asked, smirking a little. Malach
ai laughed softly.
“I guess I’m not most people,” he said, which seemed to Johnny to be a bit of an understatement.
Johnny looked the other man over, and then gave a shrug. The truth was, he felt the strangest sort of draw to this man. Like he could sometimes even feel what Malachai was feeling. Maybe it was his overactive imagination, but it felt real enough to him.
“Okay,” Johnny finally decided. “Just let me put my board in my car and get changed.”
The smile that crossed Malachai’s lovely face made him feel like he’d made the right decision.
* * *
Johnny had a real, old school VW van that had been passed down from his parents. He loved it, not only because it was practical but because it was just so cool. He didn’t know anyone else who had one, and he was proud of it. He knew his friends envied it.
“I got lucky,” Malachai commented. He’d been watching Johnny the whole walk back to the van, and Johnny found himself a bit flushed and strangely aroused. He wasn’t unused to people wanting him, but it had never drawn him like Malachai did. “Fate brought me a mate who’s gorgeous.”
Johnny grinned and tossed his board into the back of the van.
“Is that what this is? Fate?” he wondered, perching on the bumper as he started to tug his surfing gear off. “Just stand and block me so I don’t get arrested for indecent exposure,” he requested, finding the pair of shorts that he’d brought to change into.
Johnny was very aware of Malachai watching him as he stripped down, sheltered by the van mostly, but also by Malachai’s body. No one could see him, and he was very aware that he was naked and that the gorgeous redhead who drew him so much was staring at him.
It aroused him. Being watched, being so close to Malachai, it turned him on, and he could feel himself hardening. This was hardly the time or the place, though, so he tugged his shorts on as well as a pair of sandals and called it good.
“I .... Wow.” Malachai was struggling for words, and Johnny got the impression that that didn’t exactly happen all that frequently. “You are just so damn beautiful, aren’t you? And with the van and the surfing, too, you’re so ... impossibly cool.”
Johnny ran his fingers through his shoulder-length hair. The hot California sun had already dried out a good portion of it. He looked Malachai over, grinning at him.
“You’re teasing me,” he realized, but he could be a good sport about that sort of thing. After all, he sort of asked for it, with his hippie bus and his love of surfing. Could he be any more of a stereotypical Cali surfer boy?
“No, I mean it. You’re going to be such a cool dad.” Malachai’s tone of voice was suddenly faintly sad, like he knew that wouldn’t go over all that well, and Johnny looked at him thoughtfully.
“You know, you keep talking about you and me and this baby thing and part of me wishes that it was true,” Johnny admitted suddenly, all in a rush. It wasn’t until he said the words that he realized how true they were, either.
He had never given much thought to it before. He’d never been opposed to the idea, though. It was more like he’d just not thought that it was even possible. Some day, if he met the right guy, he might adopt. That was about as far as he’d gone into thinking about it.
Hearing Malachai say that he’d gotten Johnny pregnant, though, that had stirred something in him. Some sort of impossible longing.
“Wait, you want a baby?” Malachai asked, looking over at him as they stood by the van with the cries of the seagulls and the smell of the salty ocean in the air.
Johnny shrugged.
“Yeah. I guess I do. Too bad it’s impossible. So do you have a favorite coffee place around here?”
It was time to change the subject away from something so intimate. He really barely knew this man. He didn’t want to talk about impossibilities with someone he’d just met.
Luckily, Malachai let the subject drop. The redhead smiled at him and nodded.
“Sure, this way,” he directed, and as they walked, Johnny impulsively reached out to take Malachai’s hand in his. Even given the warmth of the day, his hand, his whole body, was warmer than he would have thought it would be.
The coffee shop was the sort of place Johnny loved, trendy and small and proud of using local ingredients as much as possible. Johnny grinned, pleased with the choice. This wasn’t one he’d been to before, but then, there were so many little coffee shops around, so that wasn’t actually surprising.
While Johnny looked at the menu, Malachai came up behind him and wrapped an arm around his waist. It felt nice. This guy felt like someone special, even if he sometimes said or did things that freaked him out a lot. Somehow, that didn’t matter as much as it should.
“You should come to my place sometime,” Malachai murmured in his ear, sending shivers of arousal through Johnny’s body. What was it about this redhead that drove him so insane? He wasn’t used to being so out of control.
“Anytime,” he murmured, then settled on a chai frappuccino, something to offset the heat of the day. Malachai got a chai, too, but hot, which Johnny found to be an odd choice given how warm it was.
“So what do you do?” The two of them moved aside to wait for their teas to be ready, and Malachai looked at Johnny curiously. It was a little funny, Johnny thought, and maybe Malachai was feeling it too, that they’d slept together but they knew so little about each other. “Let me guess, you’re a lifeguard.”
Johnny shrugged at the question, laughing.
“Nah. Nothing so cool as that. I work in a surf shop. Customer service, and I help teach people how to use the stuff they buy in the store.”
“A surfing instructor? I don’t know, I think that’s still pretty cool,” Malachai said, smirking. They were both handed their drinks. “Do you still do that job in the winter?”
Johnny shook his head.
“Nah. I work a lot less in the winter. Makes it kind of hard to pay rent.” Johnny’s tone was casual, but the struggle was real. He saved up money during the spring and summer to be able to pay rent and eat in the winter, but things could still get pretty damn tight sometimes.
“Well, if you are pregnant, you won’t have to worry about that anymore,” Malachai commented, and Johnny shot him a bit of a bemused look. He kept making that joke, and it wasn’t really that funny anymore. No, it wasn’t funny at all, and maybe it never had been. It was just bizarre.
“Yeah right. Because I can sell my story to a tabloid and make thousands,” Johnny said lightly, clearly not taking this very seriously.
“No. Because I’ll take care of you. I’d invite you to move in with me right now but it might seem a little bit strange since we barely know each other.” He met Johnny’s eyes, laughing a bit when he saw the disbelief that Johnny knew must be reflected there. “Come on. Let’s walk to my place. It’s not far.”
It didn’t make the slightest bit of sense, but Johnny thought that he just might follow Malachai anywhere.
* * *
Malachai, as it turned out, lived in a house that had its own private beach. The house was huge and light and airy, beautifully constructed, and Johnny was fairly certain he’d never been anywhere that cost even half of what this place must.
Johnny turned to look at Malachai plaintively. How was this possible? Malachai didn’t seem rich. A lot of rich tourists came through the shop and they tended to kind of be enormous snobs. Malachai didn’t seem like that at all. There was a bit of arrogance in the man, and plenty of confidence, but it wasn’t the same.
“I ... Whoa.” Not very coherent, and Johnny knew it. He was a little bit awed by being around this man suddenly, when before, it had seemed completely natural to him. Quietly, he let Malachai bring him to the patio, where there were comfortable chairs that looked out into the beach.
“You and the baby will be taken care of,” Malachai said, and Johnny shook his head. The baby, the baby. Over and over again. Why wouldn’t Malachai let that joke rest already?
“I can prove it.
I will. Tonight.” Malachai smiled a little and said the words quietly, almost like they were more for himself than for Johnny. Like he knew Johnny doubted.
Johnny sighed softly and shook his head. He was exhausted again. It hadn’t occurred to him somehow that he would have to get back from this gorgeous house, and even the energy that his frozen drink had given him wasn’t enough for him to be able to face that.
“Don’t you believe me even a little?” Malachai asked, and Johnny had that odd sense that he could almost feel the other man’s feelings. It was so strange, and probably nothing more than his imagination running wild.
Johnny looked at him, and for the first time, he wondered if Malachai actually believed the things he was saying. The man didn’t act or sound insane, but maybe ...
Malachai reached into his pocket and pulled a Zippo lighter out. He flicked it on, then held it out to Johnny.
“Try to burn yourself. You can’t. You’re my mate and you’re immune to fire because of it.”
Johnny shook his head.
“Babe, that’s a kid’s trick.” He let his fingers flash through the little flame, amused.
“No. Try to burn yourself. Trust me.”
Trust him. Trust the crazy man who kept insisting that Johnny, a man, was pregnant. The hell of it was, Johnny wanted to trust him. He wanted to believe that this man was trustworthy.
So Johnny did something stupid. He held his fingers out and pushed them firmly into the flame, wincing. He was ready to pull it out when it hurt, but it didn’t. It never started to hurt, and as the seconds piled up on each other, he realized that it wasn’t going to start.
“How ... How is this happening?” Johnny stared at his own fingers, then belatedly snatched them back, as if he could make this somehow all make sense. It didn’t. When people put their fingers into fire, it burned them. That was just how fire worked.
