Page 53 of Slow Heat
“Rosen and Yosef and me.”
Vale gasped in mock offense. “I’ve got other friends. And who says I need to talk about tonight? It was what it was, he is who he is, and that’s all there is to it.”
“He’s a pup.”
“You’ve said that before. It changes nothing.” Vale opened the car door and climbed out. He leaned in and smiled at Urho one last time. “Have a safe ride home”
Heading up the walk, he studied his house objectively. What would Jason think of it? How long would he be allowed to keep it once they contracted?Ifthey contracted? The front yard was tidy enough, he hired out for that, but the back and sides looked like an unruly mess. Jason would likely want to sell it. He couldn’t blame him.
Vale stopped in his tracks at that thought, remembering the house in earlier years. His pater had been much better at housekeeping than he was and everything had always looked fresh and bright. He studied the oak tree by the fence, remembering his father’s strong arms swooping him up to the lowest branch, and his pater’s voice calling out, “Climb carefully, baby. There’s only one of you in the whole wide world.”
Life had seemed so easy before his parents had passed away. This house was all he had left of them. But if they contracted and Jason wanted to sell the place, he had no legal right to object.
Vale swallowed down the tightness in his throat and headed inside.
Jason fiddled withthe microscope slide, attempting a wet mount of a droplet of wine. Usually it was easy enough, but he felt unfocused and his fingers were clumsy. He resented the cool alpha quell running through him. Missing Vale already felt like a sickness deep inside, but at the same time, he’d been glad to see him go.
The night had been awkward and strange, and he hadn’t been alone in that assessment. He’d been able to tell through subtle changes in scent and expression that Vale had been uncomfortable at times, too. It wasn’t right. None of this was how it was supposed to be.Érosgápewere supposed to fit perfectly from the start, right? Did the age difference between them really matter so much?
He sighed and pressed his thumbs against his eyes. He would be strong. Be the alpha Vale deserved.
Jason consulted his biology book again for the directions on making a wet mount. He’d done it plenty of times before, but he just couldn’t seem to get it right tonight. Frustrated when he read the same sentence for the sixth time, he leaned back in his chair and looked around his room.
What would Vale think of it? The walls held framed paintings of sailboats Pater had chosen for him when he was moved from the nursery into this room as a boy. In addition, fluttering on the walls were pictures he’d drawn of the wonders he’d found beneath his microscope lens and the occasional life drawing he’d made while bored in the park or while waiting in Father’s office at Sabel Motor Parts or the shipping yard. Childish things in Vale’s eyes, he was sure.
Vale’s own bedroom was probably the one he’d spotted with the lace curtains billowing in the breeze. He’d have his own furniture, chosen himself, and paintings on the walls he’d specifically bought to his own taste. To suit himself. Because he hadn’t needed to suit anyone else. And there probably wasn’t a single hand-drawn fluttering bit of paper taped up anywhere. Or if there was, it was probably one of his own handwritten poems made up of devastating words and sharp little sentences that tore into the reader with meaning and light.
Vale was a marvel, and Jason had so little to offer him that was his own. He squeezed his eyes shut. Why did he have to be so young? Why hadn’t he been born when Vale needed him? Then they could have grown up together, developed their tastes as one, and lived the entirety of their lives, side by side.
The slide he still held slipped from his sweaty hand and landed on the rug, smearing the carpet with a small red stain. He stared at it morosely before gripping the stem of the full wine glass on his desk and taking a large swallow. He’d stolen it from the bar when his parents were distracted paying the beta help in the kitchen. Drinking interfered with alpha quell—but it also interfered with unwanted thoughts of his inadequacy, so he took another big swallow.
He remembered Vale putting on his coat at the end of the night, the musky smell of his slick entirely dried up. The night air had rushed into the foyer through the open door, stealing the sweetness of his skin away from Jason, too. He’d been so proud when Vale had produced slick on sight and then he’d been humiliated as it’d dried up over the evening. Of course he’d been unable to hold Vale’s thrall as his alpha. He shouldn’t be surprised by that. He’d barely spoken to the man.
He closed his eyes and remembered the worst moment right at the end.
Father had thanked everyone for coming as he shook everyone’s hands. Pater had followed suit, but Jason had hung back, unsure of himself. Vale had wrapped his scarf around his neck, obscuring his beautiful throat, and then turned to Jason to say with a sad smile, “It’s been a pleasure.”
Jason slammed his fist against his desk remembering. He hadn’t been enough. He should have been dashing and strong. He should have told Vale that he had…that he wanted…wolf-god, he still didn’t know what he should have said to the man, but it should have beensomething.
Vale’s guests had made noise about how it had been a lovely evening and they’d enjoyed themselves immensely. Lies. It’d been weird and strange, and every single one of them knew what a little twit he was now. It was horrible to imagine what they might have said about him to Vale on their drive home. Even now they might be with him, filling his ears about how Jason wasn’t old enough to give Vale the life he deserved.
The sole good thing about the way the evening had ended had been when Vale had turned to Father and said, “We can start negotiations when you’re ready. There’s nothing more I need to know before moving ahead.”
But then Father had ruined it by saying, “I should warn you that there are several items I won’t budge on.”
Vale’s eyes had gone inhumanly cold. Jason felt his heart shrivel just remembering that look. “Then I should warn you of the same.”
Jason’s breath came raggedly remembering his father’s stern glare and irritable growl. Jason had instinctively stepped between them but remained silent. For that small bit of gallantry, he’d been rewarded by Vale’s genuine smile, and the soft touch of two fingers on his own. “Thank you, Jason. It’s been a lovely evening.”
Jason groaned, his cock growing hard against his leg. Such a small touch, but it’d burned into his memory. He could still feel the tingle on his knuckles. No other man could ever be satisfying again. He pressed the heel of his hand to his dick, closing his eyes and imagining Vale was there.
Instantly, he cringed. No, Vale couldn’t be here in this room so full of Jason’s boyhood. Better to imagine them in Vale’s room instead. The fantasy shadows of Vale’s bedroom seeped into his mind, calming him.
In Vale’s room, he could take and own and claim without worry or shame. There was nothing of his past there. It would be just the two of them.
But just as he moved to unbutton his pants and free his cock, he froze. Urho had been in Vale’s room. Taken him there. Seen him exhibit lordosis behavior, heard him beg for a knot, and satisfied his needs. Urho had helpedhisVale, his own omega, through heat.
He growled and pressed his head into his hands.
