by Riley Rivers
“What is it?” Ryan asked.
“It’s a protective talisman. It’s not as strong as a ward tailored to you personally—I could do that too, now that we know each other—but it’s for safety. Security. And a dose of luck. The amethyst is to help act as a blocker for others’ intrusive thoughts. It might help keep you from getting… bothered as much.”
Ryan looked up at Chris, eyes wide. “You made this for me?”
“Yeah.” They were really close now; Ryan’s fingers warm in the palm of Chris’s hand. Chris wanted to close the distance and kiss him.
Ryan glanced at Chris’s mouth, lips parted. “I–” he swallowed. “Could you help me put it on?”
“Yeah,” Chris breathed. “Of course.” He moved, taking the cord and tying it closed around Ryan’s neck. The vial settled, hanging a couple inches below Ryan’s collar.
Ryan brought a hand up to touch it. “Thank you.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
A silence settled over them in the room.
“I should get going,” Ryan said after the silence had stretched. “I don’t want to keep you from the rest of your day.”
“I don’t have anything else going on,” Chris said quickly. “And I like spending time with you.”
“Oh.”
“If you wanted… we could keep spending time together? And it doesn’t necessarily have to be here. Or it could be. Where ever you’re comfortable.”
Ryan’s fingers curled around the vial. “Okay. Yeah, sure.”
***
Before they parted ways on Monday, Chris had asked if Ryan wanted to meet him for breakfast Tuesday morning. With Skin and Ink not opening until noon and Ryan able to make his own hours, it was a good time for them to meet up. “My treat,” he’d offered again, and before Ryan could tense up over what “breakfast” might mean, had started to talk about a little bistro that served amazing stuffed French toast. Ryan knew that eating human food could help stave off his own hunger. Since he was feeling good still, it only made sense to try to prolong things.
And it meant more time with Chris.
Chris sent him a text Tuesday afternoon about Eddie’s happy reaction to the website and his own page. Looks like this is my life now.
Don’t complain, Ryan had written back without thinking it over. It’s a good life.
And then, before he could panic too much, Chris sent Yeah, it is :)
They proceeded to text throughout the rest of Tuesday. Because Chris kept reaching out, and Ryan couldn’t help but reply. Being able to simply talk to someone kept on being an amazing novelty.
Chris made him feel wanted but in a good way. There were no ulterior motives. Ryan wasn’t pulling him in. Chris seemed to genuinely want to stay in touch. To be friends.
It was… it was nice.
Around eight-thirty, when Chris said he was packing up to go home for the night, Ryan worried at his lip and took a chance and sent a text asking if Chris wanted to meet up again sometime that week.
Whenever you’re free, if you want to. If Chris wanted to politely decline, fine. But maybe he’d like it if Ryan was the one to reach out.
I’d love to. I’ve got some designs to work on though. Would you be interested in a productivity date tomorrow morning?
Productivity date?
Yeah. Meeting up at a cafe and each of us brings some work to do. Sometimes it’s nice to just be in someone’s space while you get stuff done. But it’s cool if that’s not your thing.
Ryan flushed and hurried to reply. No, that sounds good. And I’m free tomorrow morning.
It became a thing. Every morning they met up at a cafe, Ryan with his laptop, Chris with his sketchbook and tablet. They worked, sometimes in silence, sometimes interspersed with talking. It was shaping up to be one of the best weeks Ryan had ever had.
By Friday though, his hunger had returned with a vengeance. He’d been working hard to ignore it—and working hard to push down his overwhelming desire for Chris. But one meal amid months of starvation didn’t last very long.
“You okay?” Chris asked, probably because Ryan kept shifting in his seat.
Ryan nodded distractedly. “Yeah, fine. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. But it seems like something’s on your mind.”
Ryan brought a hang up to curl around the little vial he wore around his neck. He hadn’t taken it off since Chris had given it to him five days ago. He found it grounding to touch it, and he certainly needed it right now. “Nothing new,” he ended up saying.
Chris set down his tablet. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Ryan opened his mouth without really knowing what he was going to say, when he shivered, suddenly overcome with the feeling of eyes on him again. He frowned and turned to look over his shoulder.
Nothing out of the ordinary. Just a cafe filled with people, each of them doing their own thing.
“Ryan? You sure everything’s okay?”
Ryan turned back to Chris. “Yeah, sorry. Just…” he hadn’t told Chris, but he’d been having those little flashes since Monday. This overwhelming sense that he was being watched. It had to be paranoia. There wasn’t exactly another explanation. “It’s nothing.”
Chris looked doubtful.
“I mean it. It’s fine.” The other, more pressing matter, was the gnawing in his stomach. He kept remembering Sunday, and Chris’s taste and sounds, and–
He dug his fingers into his thigh. He needed to calm down. Reign his aura back in. It was a good thing it was Friday. He’d—he’d go to a club tonight. Not Firefly. He could try someplace new.
Chapter Seven
Chris was about ready to go home when his phone rang, flashing Su Lin’s name. “Hello?”
“Hey Chris! I’ve got good news.”
“Yeah? What’s up?”
“Remember Beverly’s friend, Rich? Came in the help her bartend when Frankie was sick?”
“Yeah. What about him?”
“Beverly said he’s interested in bouncing, and he’s got a good background. I’m going to have him come in to shadow tonight and see how he does, but I’ve got a good feeling. You might be off the hook.”
Chris grinned. “Awesome, that’s great. Will you know by tomorrow if you’ll need me Saturday?”
“I’ll know by around two in the morning, but I can wait to let you know until a more reasonable hour.”
“And I appreciate that. Just send me a text, yeah? And we can talk more tomorrow afternoon if you want.”
“Sounds good to me. I’m really thinking he’ll work out.”
“Hey, I’m not complaining. It’ll be nice to get Saturday nights back.”
“And when you do, you should enjoy them. You deserve it. And I still owe you a million favors.”
“Don’t worry about it. Glad it sounds like things are going to work out.”
“Me too, me too.”
After Su Lin hung up, Chris looked down at his phone, turning some thoughts over in his mind. Possibly no Firefly tomorrow meant he had a free (and early) evening after he was done at work.
It’d be nice if he and Ryan could do something together, if Ryan wanted to.
Before he could overthink it, Chris typed out a message. Looks like I might be getting Saturday night off. If I do, would you like to do something together?”
It was only after he sent it that he cursed, remembering that there was a reason Ryan had been at Firefly every Saturday since before Chris started working there. It was his feeding day. Or… he tried to make it one, for all that it didn’t seem to be working.
Chris still hadn’t managed to bring up why Ryan wasn’t feeding properly, and he’d held off on offering to feed him again. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he wanted to a little too much. A week of casual hanging out (dates, Chris’s mind tried to imply) had put Ryan world’s more at ease. Chris was wary about ruining that.
But he was also worried. From what he had seen before and what he knew of Ryan’s powers, R
yan got a lot of unwanted attention. Mostly from people who tended not to take ‘no’ for an answer. And now with Chris possibly no longer working at Firefly, he wouldn’t be in a position anymore to keep an eye on things. Not unless he and Ryan went out together.
Maybe it was time to bring the subject of feeding up again.
His phone buzzed with Ryan’s reply. I’d like that. I’m going out tonight so hopefully I won’t need to go out tomorrow.
Well. Now was a good a time as any. You doing okay?
I’m fine.
And if that wasn’t much of an answer. Should he offer? If Ryan was going out tonight, that probably meant only one thing.
Chris trusted himself a lot more than he trusted the random guys Ryan would be meeting at clubs. You want some company?
There was a long pause before the reply came back. Yeah, okay.
***
Ryan growled at himself, not for the first time, as he got dressed to go out. What had he been thinking, saying he was okay with Chris going out with him? The entire point of going out—and to a different club—was to get Chris off his mind. Now he’d be trying to siphon off energy with Chris at his side? Being all strong and kind and handsome and tempting? Great. Chris was his friend. Ryan wasn’t going to ruin that by trying to climb him like a tree.
At least Chris has his wards, Ryan sighed. Ryan might be tempted, but Chris wouldn’t be. So no harm no foul, as long as Ryan kept his hands to himself.
He finished his eyeliner and then glared at himself in the mirror. Tried to smooth out his expression so he didn’t look like he wanted to commit murder. He hated going out. He hated clubs and the loud music and the press of bodies and the fact that he got touched more than he wanted to. But he needed it. It was the only way. And the hunger gnawing at him couldn’t be ignored. He’d gotten a taste of how to felt to be okay. He craved it.
Ryan breathed out, just… feeling tired. “Why are you like this,” he muttered, curling a hand around the talisman he still wore around his neck.
His phone buzzed, Chris letting him know he’d arrived. Chris had offered to pick Ryan up, and Ryan hadn’t had a reason to say no.
Fine. Okay. He could do this.
Chris was waiting in the parking lot of Ryan’s complex. He’d actually gotten out of the car and was leaning against it, right thumb absently rubbing over his left wrist. He looked up as Ryan got closer, and smiled. “Hey. Nice to see you again.”
Ryan tried and failed to push down the warmth that ran through him at that. “We saw each other this morning.”
Chris shrugged, smile not fading. “It’s always nice to see you. And you—you look good.”
Ryan dug his fingers into his thigh. “You too.”
“Thanks.” A grin, and Chris inclined his head toward the car. “Ready?”
“Uh, yeah.” Ryan went over to the side door, pausing as he opened it. There it was again. The feeling of eyes on him, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He glanced over his shoulder but… nothing.
“Ryan? You okay?”
Ryan shook his head. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
They drove in silence for a little while, Chris not pressing for conversation. Ryan was grateful, because meeting in a cafe or coffee shop was one thing, but being in an enclosed space with Chris was very close to overwhelming. He focused on keeping his breathing even and decidedly not staring at Chris’s mouth. Or biceps. Or—anything. Not staring at all.
“Thanks for letting me come out with you,” Chris said, apropos of nothing.
“What?”
“Well, I know this is probably a feeding night. I’m glad you don’t think I’m imposing.”
You’d never be an imposition. “No. I mean, uh, yeah, I’m going to try to feed. But I don’t mind you coming out with me.” Hah. He tried to smile. “Maybe you can be my wingman.”
“Sure thing,” Chris said easily.
Which hurt a little. That Chris obviously didn’t feel the same way Ryan did. “Cool.”
They both agreed to park in residential and walk, and it was good to leave the car and take in the warm, summer night air. Chris started talking about some of the designs he’d been working on that morning, and they ended up chatting easily until they reached Electricity, Ryan’s choice of club that night. The conversation carried them through the door line, and then it was inside, to pumping music and people dancing. Ryan took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. Okay. Showtime.
“Dance floor?” Chris asked, bending down to talk into Ryan’s ear. He still wasn’t shouting over the music, and Ryan was almost positive it was a magic thing. But Chris so close made him shiver, the hunger and want rising up in him. Yeah. Dance floor was probably a good idea. The more he could get and the quicker he could get it, the better.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll grab some drinks. Any preferences?”
“A ginger ale?” Ryan tried not to sound too confused. He hadn’t expected Chris to leave his side so soon.
“Alright.” Chris nodded toward the dance floor. “You do your thing. I’ll be close by.”
In case you need me, wasn’t said, but it felt implied. Ryan swallowed. “Thanks.”
He spared a second to watch Chris go, then turned toward the moving crowd of people, winding his way in among them. He didn’t try to dance with anyone, just slid through the crowd, drifting closest to couples (or groups) getting happy and handsy, mouths and touches wandering.
He’d been at it for several minutes, siphoning off what he could, when heavy hands fell on his hips, pulling him up against a large, solid body. Ryan fought down a snarl and twisted out of the grip. He hadn’t thought his aura would be a problem tonight because while he was hungry, he wasn’t starving yet, but clearly he’d been mistaken. He yanked it in tight and decided maybe it was time to find Chris. Just to ground himself a little.
He made his way over to the bar, trying not to light up at the sight of Chris instantly swiveling around to smile at him.
“Hey,” Chris said, holding out a glass. “Was just about to go find you. Didn’t want the ice to melt too much.”
“Thanks.” Ryan let the bubbles of the soda burst on his tongue and looked morosely out over the club.
Chris nudged his shoulder. His touch didn’t feel like an unwanted threat. Instead it felt comforting. Safe. Ryan took another swallow of soda. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Some guy just got a little close. Let my aura go again, I guess.”
Chris frowned. “What do you mean?”
Ryan gave him a funny look. “You know. Tempted him.”
He shrank back as Chris frowned harder, expecting disapproval, but Chris only said, “But that’s not how it works.”
Now Ryan frowned. “I think I have a good idea of how my own powers affect others.”
“What—Ryan, what do you think your aura does?”
“Makes people want me,” Ryan said, hunching in on himself. “Obviously.”
“But–”
Ryan didn’t want to talk about this anymore. Especially not right now. “I should get back to trying to feed. Thanks for the drink.” He left without another word, trying to ignore the bitter taste in his mouth. He didn’t need Chris berating him for his incubus nature. He did that plenty himself.
He worked his way further into the crowd feeling sour but doing his best to get back into the motions of feeding off the energy in the room. He was jostled a few times, including some guy knocking right into him and nearly spilling Ryan’s drink, so he drained the glass as he moved, darting off the dance floor to set the glass down.
The prospect of so much energy right there and him unable to take as much as he wanted was hitting him harder than usual, especially when his thoughts strayed to Chris being somewhere in the club too. He’d just take a breather and then get back to work.
He found a dark corner and tried to get a grip on himself. He was warm in a way he wasn’t usually, but it was getting harder to focus. It wasn’t quite the
regular symptoms that happened as he got hungrier, but they definitely meant he needed to keep going. Any worse like this and he really might try to jump Chris on the way back if he didn’t gather enough energy before they left.
Ryan steeled himself to get back on the dance floor, took a single step forward, and walked straight into someone. He muttered a “sorry” that probably was lost amid the music and tried to walk away, but a hand closed around his wrist.
“Hey,” Ryan said, looking up now, “I said I was sorry–”
The guy holding onto his wrist was nearly as tall and broad as Chris, with dark hair and a lip ring. He almost looked familiar, but Ryan couldn’t place him. What he could do was scowl, tug his wrist back, and lose himself in the crowd.
Or try to. The guy just grinned at him and moved forward, still holding onto his wrist, Ryan stumbling back until his back hit the wall. “Hey, come on–”
The guy pressed in closer, grabbing Ryan’s other wrist and slotting a leg between his thighs, grinding up against him. The jolt of arousal that poured off the stranger made Ryan’s knees shake even as he struggled in the grip. He wasn’t an animal. He wasn’t going to feed off some stranger. He was better than this.
But the hardness pressing against him and the leg moving in a filthy grind was hard to ignore. Ryan frantically tugged his aura in as tight as he could, going even more lightheaded as he did so. There, there’s nothing left, I’m not someone you really want.
Except the guy didn’t let him go. Instead he ducked his head, lips brushing Ryan’s ear, a parody of what Chris had done earlier. “Been wanting you since I first saw you. So glad I finally got to get you alone.”
Get him alone? What? “Come on,” Ryan growled, trying to get some leverage to get out of the hold. “Find someone else. I’m not interested.”
“Give it a few minutes and you will be,” the guy said, before mouthing underneath Ryan’s jaw, leg hiking Ryan up even higher. “You did so good, finishing your drink. God, can’t wait to take you home.”
