Page 34 of Colin

“It’s still a strange vampire in our territory. And you’re our—” He trailed off.

“Roommate?” When Fox frowned at the suggestion, Colin tried again. “House pet? Blood supply?”

“You’re just…ours.” At the look on Colin’s face, Fox amended his statement with a scowl. “For the moment. You live with us, of course we’re going to keep you safe. And Dane can handle himself. I’d know if he was in trouble.”

He sounded fully confident, but Colin wasn’t fooled. Fox wasn’t moving with anywhere close to his usual lazy grace, his movements tense and stilted.

He was worried about his brother.

Colin had the sudden, annoying urge to make it better. He stepped closer. “So Dane watches old movies to relax, huh? What do you do?”

Fox shrugged, the muscles in his crossed arms bulging with the motion. “I don’t know. Sometimes we go out if I get restless. Try to get laid.” He leered at Colin, but there was no heart to it. When he didn’t get a reaction, he coughed. “Or I read.”

That was something. “What do you read?” Colin asked.

“I like history stuff, I guess.” There was a hesitance to the statement, as if he was self-conscious. “Biographies. You find out how strange everyone is on the inside, once you start looking closely.”

These two really were old men in young men’s bodies. But for once, Colin didn’t poke fun. “Maybe you should read a bit,” he suggested. “I can draw.”

Fox shook his head. “No. I can’t concentrate on something like that right now. What about your comics? The ones you read up in your room when you’re hiding from us. Show me some of those.”

Colin didn’t bother arguing the point that he hadn’t been hiding. He just led Fox upstairs.

He was expecting them to each pick one and take them downstairs, read companionably on the couch like normal roommates might. Instead, Fox picked one out, then grabbed Colin with one arm, tugging him up on the bed with him and arranging Colin on his lap, Colin’s back to his chest, Fox’s back to the headboard.

Colin was tempted to protest for the sake of it. Did Fox really think he had manhandling rights over him? But for one, it was actually pretty comfortable, settled there in Fox’s lap. And for two, it was clear Fox needed the reassurance of touch.

It was weird as hell: the brothers were obviously tactile creatures—if the way their hands lingered on Colin was any clue—but they refrained from finding that comfort in each other. Colin knew normal, unbonded human families that were more physically affectionate than the two of them.

It raised questions, ones Colin didn’t feel like keeping to himself. He put his hand on top of the comic cover, stopping Fox from opening it. “Hey. Why is your bond a touchy subject for Dane?”

Notably, Fox didn’t stiffen up against him. He clearly wasn’t as protective of the conversation topic without Dane around. “We already told you. People assume it’s sexual.”

Colin twisted to face him, trying to read his expression. “But why do you two give a fuck what people think?”

Fox’s eyes searched his for a long moment, and he must have found what he was looking for, because he began explaining, “We were living in a den for a long time, after we were first turned. It was a pretty decent one, as far as they go. But something about our bond got to them. They were total dicks—they judged us as freaks, taunted us for it. We tried to make it work for a long time. Our formative vampire years, really, when we were figuring out what and who we were. It just…got to Dane over time, I guess.”

So Dane was self-conscious about their bond, about how they differed from the majority of bonded vampires. Colin could get it. He’d felt othered before, for the way he operated. For not showing affection the way others thought he should.

Why would I waste time and energy on a relationship where I’m not getting anything back? You don’t have anything to offer me, Colin.

Colin shook that old, shitty voice out of his head. He would be happy to never see its source again in his life. “But you’ve shared people before me?” he asked. “Intimately?”

For once, Fox didn’t leer. “We have, when Dane’s in the right headspace. He can be…hesitant. All sensitive from us being looked down on in the den.”

“But you’re not attracted to each other?” Colin hated asking it, but he also felt like he needed to. They were talking about assumptions others put on them. He’d been assuming it wasn’t the case, but it was always better to ask the person themself, wasn’t it?

Fox chuckled, the sound vibrating against Colin’s back. “He looks exactly like me, slayer. I may be confident in our looks, but I’m not that much of a narcissist.” He leaned his head down, rubbing his nose against Colin’s neck. “It’s all about the contrast, isn’t it, when it comes to attraction? The little things that are different are what drive you wild.” His thumb brushed against the bare skin where Colin’s shirt had ridden up from his shorts. “Like this little spot here. This dip by your hipbone. I don’t have that. Neither does Dane.” He brushed the spot again. “I keep wanting to bite it.”

Colin let out a harsh breath, his every nerve ending seeming to have narrowed down to that one little patch of skin. “You’re trying to distract me.”

“I’m the one getting distracted,” Fox said, his voice low. But his thumb stopped its circling. “You really don’t mind? The bond between me and Dane?”

Colin placed his hand over Fox’s, toying with his fingers. “Why would I care? It’s like me and Jay. Everyone thinks I have some crush, but it’s not romantic. It’s not sexual. It’s…affection. It’s a different sort of bond.” He twisted to meet Fox’s eye. “You two love each other fiercely. Fuck everyone else.”

Fox’s arms wrapped around him, squeezing him tight enough to push the air out of Colin’s chest. Colin slapped at his arm. “Dude. You’re crushing me with your stupid muscles. Stop it.”

“You like my muscles,” Fox teased, but he loosened his grip, if only slightly. “Now show me your comic.”

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