by Neena Jaydon
"Theo's a consultant," Max said. "For media companies. He tests their products for them and tells them how much they suck." He gave Theo an indulgent look that did much to soothe his confused feelings. "We're self-employed, which means we get to decide how and when we work and what we'll charge to do it. Yeah, Paul, loosen that tie some more. We don't even know how to wear a tie, do we, Theo?" Theo smiled weakly as Max nudged his side, and the others chuckled. He was grateful that these men had regular jobs, because that meant the lunch didn't outlast his poor ability at small talk by that long.
Once the others had left, Max took Theo outside the restaurant. The golf course stretched out before them, blanketed with snow that had yet to amount to much but did make everything look clean and fresh. As Max lit up a cigarette, Theo put his hands in his coat pockets, raised his shoulders, and then deflated with a long sigh. Max spewed smoke on a laugh.
"What? What was so bad about that?"
"I'm not good with people."
"You were fine," Max said. "It really bugs you that much to meet new people?"
"Yeah." That's why I stick to people I've got things in common with—other geeks. I don't want to go to all that trouble when it's some mainstream person.
"Well, we'll get you out more," Max said. "Get you used to it." Theo looked sharply at him. Not appearing to notice, Max gazed out over the course and puffed away. "Well, how about this? Come home with me, and after I've got my chores done, I'll cook you dinner. Then we can see what else I might be able to do to make you feel better." His hazel eyes slid in Theo's direction, and as usual, they made his heart stumble around in his chest.
"Can we stop to get my PSP?"
"Oh, for—" Max suddenly dipped down, scooping up a handful of snow. Theo half-heartedly raised a hand to block the snowball; powder exploded against his palm, spattering his face. Snickering, Max ran down the path that led onto the course.
It wasn't a decision. His body had him off after Max before any sort of thought process had taken place. Max ran with speed and assurance, but Theo went straight into high gear. His focus narrowed down to nothing more than Max's athletic figure making autumn colours in a winter background. His thigh muscles flexed, turned his run into a lunge. When he caught Max around the waist, his momentum carried them both into the snow piled up next to the path.
The snow wasn't deep enough to soften the landing, and Theo winced at the explosion of Max's breath into a wheezing grunt. Nose-to-nose with Max, he had nowhere to hide. He felt his neck and ears go very hot as he realized what he'd done.
"What the hell was that?" Max's wide eyes blinked quickly.
"Th-there's a reason were—we don't... Sports and stuff," Theo stuttered, deeply embarrassed and ashamed. "When we chase, we... We really kind of—mean it. Get carried away."
Max threw back his head and laughed. Theo pushed himself up into a kneeling position, then sat back on his heels. He rubbed at his burning cheeks, then gasped in surprise as Max threw a handful of snow at him, hitting him in the throat. Theo grabbed two handfuls of the cold stuff and showered them down on Max, making him twist around underneath him and laugh harder. Each of them made new snowballs and used their free hands to try to fend each other off.
"Excuse me!" A flustered employee hurried up to inform them that the greens were closed, looking at them with veiled disapproval as Theo got up and helped Max to his feet. They sheepishly brushed themselves off, and Max casually apologized. As they made their escape, breathless and rosy-cheeked, Max chortled all the way back to his car.
"Ah, Theo," he sighed, finally back under control. "You turn me into such a dork."
"Gee, uh, thanks," Theo said, making Max chuckle, but his answering smile didn't want to stay on his face. So what are you turning me into, then?
CHAPTER TWELVE
Theo sighed audibly in relief and pushed back the woolly hood as they stepped out into the chill night air.
"Hey," Max said. "Stay in costume."
"It's really hot," Theo complained.
"You're hot," Max retorted. "You're my hot Greek—"
"—wolf in sheep's clothing."
"—wolf in sheep's clothing!" They spoke in unison, Max's voice pitched high with barely contained amusement, Theo's low and distinctly not laughing.
"That wasn't funny the first ten times you said it." Theo waved a cloven-hoof glove at him.
"Wrong," Max said, claiming Theo's elbow. "It's hilarious. I have no idea who would make a sheep costume in your size, but when I saw it at the thrift store, I had to get it. You look," he dragged his voice back to its native range, "adorable." They made their way down the rickety back stairs, and he added, "Well?"
"Well what?"
"Glad we came?" He tugged and was amused by Theo's exaggerated loss of balance.
"Y-yeah." Theo smiled at the gravel underfoot.
"Good. Me too." Max chuckled. "You think we're going to get a cab looking like a slutty shepherd and his hot sheep?"
"I don't know." Theo gave the street ahead a concerned look. "It's not even Halloween tonight."
"Halloween's on Monday. They couldn't have done it any other night. Besides, you've already got Halloween plans."
"It's a tradition," Theo said, as they moved slowly through the alley. "You're welcome to come."
"I'm not sure I want to watch a bunch of horror movies in a row with your friends," Max said. "Are you going to dress up?"
"Yeah, of course. It's Halloween." There was a pause, then, "But no non-fandom stuff."
"I don't have my geek-to-English dictionary on me, Theo."
"We cosplay—uh, dress up—like specific characters. Not like, y'know, just witches and stuff. Depends on what you're into." The words were coming out quickly.
"So what are you going to go as this year?"
"You wouldn't have heard of him."
"Hm." Max looked into Theo's rosy-cheeked face.
"Do you want me to come?"
"Kind of."
"Does that mean you don't want me there?"
"It's not your scene, obviously. But it'd be nice if you knew my friends, and I could—" He paused.
"You could what?" Max let the last word linger.
"Sh-show you off," came the mumbled reply. Max stepped in front of Theo to stop him.
"Don't make me mess up your lipstick," he said. Theo smiled, then kissed him lightly on the mouth.
"I hope we can get a cab," he said softly. "I don't want Ana to come get you."
"Oh, I like drunk Theo," Max replied in a matching tone, wrapping both arms around the floss-covered body before him. With his black lashes augmented by mascara, Theo's eyes were incredibly beautiful, and they focused on him alone. Then Theo's brows drew down.
"Wait."
"Okay, that's not fair." Max gave up on his complaint when he felt sickeningly familiar tingles on his neck. "Oh, shit. Theo?" Theo was hastily getting out of his costume. Max watched despondently. "Theo, you're not—"
"It's close," Theo said, shoving his clothes into Max's arms as he looked up and down the alley. Max closed his eyes defensively, light battering at his eyelids. When he opened them again, all he saw was the tip of a tail disappearing around the side of the building. Max slipped between two buildings and waited, shivering. His half-pants left his calves at the mercy of the night air. The buzz of alcohol had been replaced by adrenaline, irritation, and an unpleasant sense of uselessness.
When others left the dance and passed by his place in the shadows, Max held his breath. He didn't want to attempt explaining anything. He did worry about them but suspected that leaping out of the dark warning about evil spirits wasn't going to get him anywhere.
They're going off with other people. At least they're not alone.
Theo had been clearly intimidated by the press of people but had danced readily with him, and with a decent sense of rhythm. It had been tremendous fun to watch him, to press against him, to laugh and smile with him. On the other hand, Max's head reeled from all the d
rinks he'd downed to try to keep from noticing the attention Theo had been getting.
This monogamy stuff's a pain.
After a small eternity, a big shadow trotted up to him. Panting, Theo sat down. Steam rose from his mouth, and his ears were at half-mast. Finally, he stood, shook, and flashed into light.
"Lost it," he said in disgust as he dressed. "Those things, I don't know where they go, but they just—go."
"Well, spirits move through worlds we can't," Max said, ambivalent. "If they're afraid of you, why do they keep coming near you?"
"I—I don't know. Is it me?" Theo was buttoning up the sheep suit.
"It's a possibility."
"Either way, I... We shouldn't be alone tonight."
"We weren't planning to be, remember?" Max gave him a playful pat on the side, but when they went out into the street, he could see the fatigue in Theo's expression.
Goddamn things. First they mess with my sister, now they steal a night with the sexiest sheep in Fort Rivers.
To his relief, the taxi driver who took them home barely blinked at the sight of them; apparently it was close enough to Halloween to forgo explanations. Once at Theo's, they stood side-by-side in the tiny bathroom to wash the makeup off, which revived Max's mood. Wearing makeup was funny, but not as priceless as having it smudged down their faces while trying to figure out how to get it off.
When he climbed into bed next to Theo, he got a wan smile.
"What's wrong?" Max asked.
"I don't think I can tonight. I ran full-out, and I'm really..."
"Yeah, the mood's kind of gone, isn't it?" Max patted Theo's hip under the blankets. Theo wasn't looking reassured. "What?"
"You're—not mad?"
"Mad? Why would I be?" Max pushed himself up on one elbow. "Are you kidding me? Theo, what do you take me for?"
"No, I'm sorry. Th-that was stupid." Theo looked at Max's chest, biting his lip. His eyelids drooped in a new kind of Theo-cute, so Max kissed his forehead and left things at that. He rearranged himself under the blankets as Theo fumbled at the lamp, dropping them into darkness. Max lay awake for some time after, thinking about shadows and werewolves. As things stood, he wasn't sure he had a good handle on either.
He picked up his cellphone to check the time. It was close to four in the morning. He sighed heavily, wishing that he could sleep. Then he glanced at his cellphone's display again. In the bottom corner was a little image of a moon—he'd found an app that kept track of the phases of the moon. The tiny glowing moon was nearly full.
*~*~*
Full Moon
Coming out of sleep this close to the full moon was like pulling himself out of tar. Startled awake, Theo blearily raised his head to see Max stroll into the bedroom holding paper bags and smelling richly of fried chicken.
"Max, I said..."
"I know, you want to be alone tonight. But I thought of you sitting here feeling like crap and figured that probably meant you weren't exactly cooking for yourself." Max sat down on the bed next to him. "I don't know what passes for chicken soup with Greek werewolves, so you'll have to make do with fried chicken."
Theo sighed and turned his head, surreptitiously wiping the corner of his mouth. It was true that he didn't have the energy to cook when he was this weak, and his mouth had instantly flooded with saliva at the scent of meat.
"Plus this for dessert." Max grinned and held up a box with a picture of a dog on it. Theo sat up, a hand to his aching head.
"Are you serious?"
"Open it," Max said gently, holding it out. As he took the box, the scents revealed the trick. He opened the lid and peered in at a bag of chocolate chip cookies. "Ana baked them when I told her this would be a rough night for you."
Staring helplessly at the box, Theo sank under guilt and gratitude. He bit his lip. "Tell her thanks for me."
"Of course." Max bumped his elbow with a fist. "Want me to get some plates?"
"Sure." He continued to stare at the box while Max was gone. It's been so long since I spent a full moon with someone—on purpose. It used to be we all got through it together. It had always meant frayed tempers; it had often ended with them curled up together in winter or sleeping under the back stairs in the yard on warm summer nights. Theo put a hand to his mouth, horrified, as tears suddenly filled his eyes.
"Theo?" Max gave him a look at he came back in with plates and napkins. "You okay? Oh, hey." Quickly sliding in next to Theo, he put a hand on his shoulder.
"Mm. I..." Theo wiped futilely at his eyes. "I just remembered."
"What did you remember?" Max stroked his neck with his thumb. "You know you can talk to me."
That's right, I can. He hated the feeling of wetness sliding down his cheeks; he hated the lack of control he had over it. He'd last cried after Grandmother's funeral, and that only when he'd finally had time to himself. But this was exactly the kind of thing he could tell Max about.
"When I was little, Ma'd—she'd kind of curl up around me, and I'd fall asleep with my nose under her neck. Just when I was little. But on her last moon, even though I thought it was stupid and I was bigger than her by then, she came up and did that. And she was sick, so I—I mean, I was a teenager, so it embarrassed me, but she was sick, so I snuggled up like we used to. And three days later she was..." His throat closed up and he could no longer talk. As warm arms came around him, he buried his face into Max's shoulder.
"Shhh," Max whispered. "I know how those memories can hurt."
"Yeah," Theo said raggedly. He choked on a sob, then clenched his teeth and bore down on the lump in his throat. He pushed free, hitching up his shirt to use its hem to dry his face.
"Theo."
"I'm okay," he whispered.
"Don't fake it, okay? I don't think there's anything wrong with guys crying, especially when it's stuff worth crying about."
I do. I hate crying.
Max stroked Theo's cheek with the heel of his hand, his gaze very gentle; Theo quickly looked down.
"I'm really okay."
"Yeah." Max slid his hand around to the back of his neck and gave a squeeze. "Seriously, I want you to understand. You don't have to hide what you're feeling from me. Just remember that." He shifted away, retrieving the greasy paper bag and the plates. "Let's eat." Theo watched him serve out chicken, fries, and salad. His chest was full of intense warmth, as well as an incongruous ache.
Am I still too much work, then? He numbly took the plate Max offered.
Once they'd finished eating, Max took the remains away. Theo struggled to keep his eyes open. Max laughed when he came back into the room.
"Don't hold back just because I'm here."
"But..."
"I can keep myself busy." Max held up a novel.
"So you're staying?" Theo hoped his ambivalence didn't come through in his tone.
"Yeah." Max walked around to the other side of the bed and bounced onto it, finding his place in the novel. Theo pulled off his shirt, pausing as dizziness rolled over him. His joints burned, and he felt a million years old. Finally, he got to his feet and got out of his pyjama bottoms. Then he straightened, looking blearily at the pale floral wallpaper.
I should change that out. Grandmother would think it's ridiculous I left it when there aren't any women left in the house.
"Max?"
"Hm?"
He imagined Max's gaze on his back, and it pleased him even as it made his skin twitch.
"Thanks." With that he changed, avoiding any further conversation. When he leapt onto the bed and curled up, Max's hand came to rest on his head. He closed his eyes quickly and resisted a powerful urge to move away. It was absolutely not done among werewolves to pet someone in his four-legged form, but it would have been uncharitable to protest.
*~*~*
Last Quarter
"Hey, guys." Theo slid in next to Whitney in their usual booth. "Sorry I'm late."
"No problem," Whitney said. "Frankie just got here too."
"Ordered you
a chocolate milkshake," Frankie said, giving him a little salute.
"Thanks." Theo ran his fingers over his hair, carefully exploring its unfamiliar shape. Quite a bit of it had been cut off, especially on the back and sides.
"What's with the new do?" Frankie asked, pushing around his knife.
"Max recommended a guy," Theo said, blushing.
"It looks good," Whitney said. "Professional."
"Theo shouldn't look professional," Frankie said. "He's a working geek, like me."
"Does it look—like, too preppy?" Theo looked from one to the other, a hand on the back of his bared neck.
"Never mind him," Whitney said, exasperated. "Are you guys ready to order?"
Once they'd ordered, Theo leaned his elbows on the table to prop himself up. All the time he was spending with Max, on top of work and hunting for shadow spirits, was starting to wear him out. In this position, he could see white, button-down cuffs peeking out from under the sleeves of his sweater. His arms looked like they belonged to someone else.
"You look tired," Whitney said.
"Busy night," Theo replied, swallowing a yawn.
"I bet it was." Frankie grinned.
"That's not why." All he'd done with Max yesterday was text. He turned to Whitney. "How's Marnie?"
"Good," Whitney said evenly, his eyes sparkling. "She misses you."
"Misses me? Halloween was six days ago."
"But usually she's at your place twice a week or more," Frankie pointed out.
"You guys can still come over whenever," Theo said guiltily.
"We know," Whitney said.
"Relax, Theo. We know you need more space now. That's what happens when you're in a relationship." Frankie leaned back as the waitress arrived with their plates.
"Says the single guy," Whitney said.
"Hey, I'm okay with that." Frankie wrapped both hands around his cheeseburger.
"We'll find you somebody. Marnie's working on it."
"Oh, great." Frankie rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm not cutting my hair or letting anybody change how I dress or anything like that. I've still got my games and my comics and my webpage, stuff like that. I get a girlfriend, she's got to understand that that's what I do."
