Chapter Eight.

There were a couple trails near Luke’s house, and one sunny afternoon found he and Grady exploring.

Grady kept his eyes to the ground, looking for rocks while Luke meandered alongside him, some feet away. Grady’s pockets bulged with smooth gray stones and he hummed quietly to himself. Luke watched him from the corner of his eye, thinking about lunch. He was hungry.

“Hey, are you hungry?” he asked.

Grady shrugged, not looking up.

Luke reached overhead, gripping a low branch near its base, and lifted himself up off the ground. His back twinged a little, but it was faint compared to those first few days. Grady shot him a look but Luke just flashed a smile and dropped back down to the soft, dirt ground. They walked.

Grady veered suddenly off to the left, off the trail, and Luke followed behind. He kept Grady in sight, but let him walk ahead some. He watched Grady step around plants and big rocks, his head bent forward, narrow shoulders hunching a little around his skinny neck. His hair was short now, with a small curl to it. It bristled down to a point above the knot of his spine and Luke could almost feel the fine, short hairs beneath his fingertips.

“Where you going, buddy?” he called, still walking.

Grady hiked his shoulders up in a shrug, and did not answer. He kept moving. The plants grew denser here and the spindly thin trees seemed to thicken. Rocks got a little bigger. Grady was so lean, with his light brown hair and his jungle green t-shirt, and his grayish noncolor cargo pants. He almost seemed to disappear.

Luke picked up the pace a little, and caught up with him.

“Hey,” he said, putting his hand over Grady’s arm. “What’s wrong?”

Grady had stopped. He looked up at Luke, a slight frown creasing his brow. Luke brushed his fingers over Grady’s forehead, smoothing the lines. “Grady,” he said, asking.

Grady moved his head in a small, dismissive motion. “Nothing,” he said, offering up a smile. “Let’s go back.”

They went back. The phone was ringing when they entered the house, and Luke scooped up the receiver as Grady bounded up the stairs.

“Hello?” he said, sliding open the junk drawer. He rummaged around the takeout menus, looking for Chinese.

“Driscoll.”

Luke’s hand went still over a Mountain Mike’s. He looked up and frowned at the window. It was getting dark outside, getting cooler. With the lights on in the kitchen he could see the shine of his forehead, the white glare of the phone in his hand. “Morgan,” he said, neutrally.

A series of sharp smacks reached his ear. Gum, he thought, jerking the receiver away a little. He scowled.

“Listen,” Cliff Morgan said, “I just want to say.”

Luke broke in. “Where are you? Are you with Berkley? His mother’s a little pissed.”

He heard a faint exchange, and then:

“He wants to know why,” Cliff said.

Luke turned his eyes upward. He released a slow, measured sigh. “He borrowed a little money, she said.” It was stupid, a measly twenty bucks, but Karen Woodson sure liked to yell. “She also wants to know if he’s dead.” That was probably true.

He heard a familiar cackle, faint and static ridden.

“He ain’t dead,” Morgan told him, his voice sounding a little funny. Sounding full of something, warm. Luke’s mouth quirked up a little. “Hey, though,” Morgan said. “I just wanted to say, you know.”

Luke waited, ears straining over the thumpthumpthump of Grady racing back down the stairs. “Yes?”

“You know, thanks. And good job. And, you know, you and me and that one you have--we’re all good.”

Luke felt something tight inside him release. He let out another slow breath, able to see his reflection a little better now. It got dark fast these nights. He could see Grady come up behind him, and he turned, holding his arm out a little. Grady came.

“Good,” said Luke into the phone. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Right,” Morgan said. “Well.” There was a short pause. “See you.”

Click.

Luke set the cordless down on the counter, firm but not hard. He looked at Grady.

“The hell was that, big dude?”

“That was,” Luke paused for effect, “Cliff Morgan. And Berk.”

Grady jumped a little against him. “Berkley? He’s all right?”

Luke squeezed Grady’s arm. “I didn’t talk to him. He sounded okay, though.”

“Hm.” Grady frowned at Luke’s chin for a second, thinking.

“I heard him laugh.”

“Oh, good.” Grady’s expression smoothed. He smiled. “Good.” He looked rueful for a moment, and stared down at the counter. “Huh.”

“What is it?” Luke found the Chinese menu and shut the drawer. He unfolded the thing and left it open on the counter.

“Well,” Grady said, “I mean I guess he was my friend.”

“He still is, buddy.”

They looked over the menu together, shoulders bumping, and Grady called the order in. Luke got them a couple beers and popped the caps. Grady leaned right up into him reaching for his beer. He leered a little, and Luke laughed.

“Punk,” he said, and palmed Grady’s ass. He gave it a little pinch.

Grady jumped and set his bottle down and he tugged Luke’s hips against his own. He kissed him dry on the lips, closemouthed. When he tried to pull away Luke grabbed hold of him, and held him still. “No you don’t,” he growled, and kissed Grady proper. Hard and deep, and Grady gave as good as he got. By the time they broke for air Luke was swollen stiff and straining against his zipper, and twin spots of color stood high on Grady’s cheeks. He was panting, and his gaze kept dipping down to Luke’s groin.

“Get on the couch,” Luke said, getting serious.

A blip of time seemed to pass and suddenly Luke was settling himself between Grady’s thighs. Their cocks were red and leaking, bumping each other, and Luke shifted his hips experimentally, sliding their lengths together.

Grady shivered and raised his hips, sneaking his hands around to grab Luke’s ass.

“C’mere,” he said, his gray eyes dark and hooded. “Luke.”

Luke went, burying his face into Grady’s sweaty neck, salt bursting tartly across his tongue and lips. He ground his hips down, releasing a long, shaky groan. Grady’s breath came hot and fast in his ear, and he made small, rough sounds, like he was fighting.

They rubbed fast and tight, bodies growing overheated, and itchy. Grady’s fingers dug hard into Luke’s hip and he said, “Shit, Luke, fuck.”

Luke lifted himself up a little and grasped their cocks together. He slid slow and even and watched Grady’s face change and his body writhe. A warm flush had spread down Grady’s neck and over his chest. He was hard and lean and so hot in Luke’s hand, so hot and smooth and leaking, and so very fucking stiff.

Luke worked him in long, steady pumps, squeezing a little at the end of every stroke. He leaned in, breathing the sharp, sweaty musk, feeling it go straight to his head. He could sense his boy’s wolf in there, crawling just beneath the surface. He started talking, then, saying, “That’s it. That’s it, baby. Wanna see you do it.”

Grady stared up at him, red faced and quaking. “Luke,” he said, shakily, and Luke just stroked him faster.

“Do it, Grady” he growled, and when Grady’s dick jumped in his palm he swirled his thumb around the wet, spongy tip, and Grady released a short cry and his semen spilled over Luke’s fingers and across his chest. Luke fisted his own cock, quickly, and jerked himself to a sweet, burning finish.

“Ah, fuck,” he sighed, coming back to himself as the doorbell rang.

********

Luke and Grady ate from the boxes on the couch and watched an old western together. Luke had seen this one before, but it was good. Also, Grady was warm.

As if sensing this, Grady leaned forward out of the warmth and set his box and chopsticks on the coffee table. He sat back again and quietly burped. He patted his belly and said, “I’m done.”

Luke grinned. He fished the last of the water chestnuts out of his kung pao, and set the food aside. He reached an arm over Grady’s shoulders.

“Oh yeah?” he said. “That so?”

Grady tipped his head back comfortably against Luke’s shoulder. “Yeah,” he sighed, eyelids drooping. He wriggled a little and shifted and slung his arm over Luke’s stomach. He sighed.

Luke rubbed his hand up and down Grady’s arm, and they sat quietly together until the movie was over, and by then it was late. Luke thought about Cliff Morgan and Berkley very briefly, glad Berkley was not dead somewhere, glad Morgan was out of their hair. Glad Grady was safe.

He gave the body cuddled beside him a squeeze, and Grady jerked some, waking.

“Hey,” he said, blearily, in that way that said, I’m awake, I’m listening, and could you repeat that?

Luke could remember a little of what happened. He remembered his own sense of urgency, running full tilt across the vineyards, hating himself for not warning Grady, for not keeping an eye on him. When would he learn, he remembered thinking. And he remembered being so close, seeing that thing standing huge over his mate.

He’d felt a terrible surge in his chest then, something dark and powerfully moving, and he’d changed, too. He had stumbled as his bones shifted and shrank, or grew, or disappeared altogether, and beside him Morgan did the same. Only an instant later Luke had launched himself at the thing, catching it in its soft lean belly. He remembered the gush of warmth across his snout, how the sharp scent had filled his nostrils.

He’d fought like hell, but somehow it had not quite been enough. The thing threw him, and after one long, dizzying moment he’d cracked against something hard and fallen, and that was all. He woke up the next morning with the worst fucking crick in his back, unable to move, and his brother Tony crouched over him calling for help.

Grady, he’d thought. Grady.

But Grady was fine. He’d seen to things, didn’t need Luke to do it for him.

Grady looked up at him on the couch, blinking in the dim light thrown by the television. The arm over Luke’s belly moved, and a cool hand slid up under his shirt, resting possessive. “What’s wrong?” Grady asked, peering up at him. His strange gray eyes glittered, and his face seemed pale and smooth.

Luke squeezed Grady to him, feeling another surge in his chest. Not so dark and wrenching but sweet. He gave a little shake of his head and leaned in, bringing his mouth close to Grady’s. “Nothing,” he said, and they kissed on the couch for a while and eventually got up to put away the leftovers, and then they climbed upstairs together and went to bed, and that was that.

The end.