Cal smiled as he hopped into a surprisingly thick pair of socks. “I don’t mind them. But I don’t need them to lead you around, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
Ray had vaguely hoped, aside from whatever intangible property between them that let most beings know that Ray was Cal’s, that there was something physical he could count on. Fairies and possibly seers could see the bond in some form. Penn sensed something. Elves probably did too, or some elves, anyway. Other weres would smell it. But not all beings could, and not most humans. Ray didn’t care what the humans thought, but he would like them to know. For Cal’s position with him to be understood, and for Cal to be respected, but also for them toknow.
He and Cal could not share marks. Humans might fear those anyway, or regard them as brutality.
They expected a tangible symbol. Ray sat down and frowned as he thought about it. He didn’t mean to ask the question, but it fell from him anyway. “Would you like a ring? One not made of sugar?”
Cal stopped with one leg of his jeans on to study Ray with narrowed eyes, as though he was trying to figure out why Ray would ask such a thing and ifRaywanted him to wear a ring.
“Someone asked today.” Ray glanced down. “They saw my hand without one. If you use certain words, humans expect things.”
Cal answered slowly. “I would lose a ring.”
Ray nodded. “That’s what I said.”
“But doyouwant a ring, Ray?” Cal let his jeans fall to the floor and stepped out of them to approach Ray on the bed. “Or, if not a ring, would you like to be marked? A ring seems very… human. My mother might have wanted one, back in the day, for the respect behind it and the legal right it grants. So outright refusing one seems childish. And yet, I don’t need that. But you… Weres sometimes mark each other, don’t they? When they’re… you know.Together. You can’t mark me, but I could…” Cal glanced away before he could finish the thought. “A ring? There will be repercussions. They won’t like it at the station.”
“Am I even going back there?” Ray shook his head. “I don’t need you marked.” Even if the idea of the impression of Ray’s teeth somewhere on Cal’s glowing skinforeverwas enough to make Ray flush, he didn’t need it. He’d lived without it so far.
“Would youlikeit though?” Cal stopped in front of Ray and messed with Ray’s hair, combing it away from Ray’s face while gently forcing Ray to look up at him. He pursed his lips at Ray’s stubborn glare and then turned seductive, toying with a strand to try to make it curl. “Answer the question, detective: Do you want me to mark you?”
To wear Cal’s mark, even for a few hours, was a thought to make Ray swallow dryly. Deep enough, there would be scarring, making the mark permanent, if still barely noticeable to anyone not looking for it. But he didn’t think Cal would claw or bite that deep. He didn’t think Cal would bite much at all. Ray still slowly tipped his head to one side, exposing his neck.
“Oh.” Cal’s surprise almost made Ray flinch, but Cal tightened his hold on Ray hair, stopping any potential movement. “It, uh… seems rather bloody and violent, and gross, in the abstract.” He stared at Ray’s neck, breathing harder. “The old fairies used to be quite possessive in some of those stories. I always thought it was strange, considering how we are now, but then you do this and I entertain wholly unusual thoughts about owning you.”
Ray stopped breathing, then forced himself to begin again.
Cal’s wings fluttered, tentative at first, faster when Ray’s colors gave him away. He slid a hand down the side of Ray’s throat, careful and light. His scent was like spring, new but intrigued, bright and full ofwant. “Oh,” he said again. “I don’t want or need to dominate you, Ray, but you would look so pretty in a collar. Not like a dog. Like…”
“Yours,” Ray finished, salivating at the word.
“Yes,” Cal agreed. “I have no particular desire to taste your blood, though. Maybe… humans scar themselves for fun or ritual. Maybe we can think of something for you. Or I could just… just sometimes… put something there.” He stared at his hand, fascinated, as he curled it, not quite wrapping it around Ray’s throat, but imagining it. “Ribbon, maybe. I can’t sew, but I can weave ribbon.”
“It would fray,” Ray pointed out.
“It’s replaceable,” Cal replied absently, then blinked and met Ray’s heavy stare. “But you’d wear it?”
Humans—some humans—would know what it meant. At least, what it meant to other humans. They would be mistaken about some aspects, but Ray didn’t think he’d care. He would do whatever Cal said. He already knew that.
“If you gave it to me,” Ray answered at last.
Cal blinked several times, eyes sparkling with fairy tears that he did his best to banish. “I should’ve put you in flowers,” he whispered while Ray brushed some of the glitter from the corner of his eye. “I should’ve done it ages ago. But I thought—you know, I think I had a lot of ideas about what went wrong with my parents and I… assumed things about you as a consequence.”
Ray mangled a growl but got words to emerge. “From what you tell me, I didn’t speak up. Calvin wonders if he pushed us together before we were meant to…” Ray had no idea if they weremeant toanything. “Would he have worn her flowers?”
Cal scowled as he seemed to realize something. “Yes. He would have married her if she would have allowed it. No one marries fairies but he would’ve—and she said no. She was protecting him too. Fuck.Fuck. I am really slow to notice things sometimes.”
Ray shook his head as much as the hand on his throat would allow him to. “I got us into this mess. I’m the slow one.” Slow to act. Slow to think about what he was feeling, if he thought about it at all. He wrapped his fingers around Cal’s wrist, then drew them down the inside of Cal’s forearm. Cal tightened his hand. Ray let himself enjoy whatever his colors did that made Cal part his lips. He leaned into Cal’s hold, then met Cal’s gaze. “You’re the one who’s going to solve it.”
Ray believed that, and hoped the effort of voicing it would give the wish strength.
“You and the others,” Ray added, because pack mattered to them too. “Benny could be figuring it out right now.”
“Sweet talk.” Cal narrowed his eyes but his attention drifted back down to his hand almost immediately. “What are you trying to tell me?” he reasoned out loud. He was brilliant even when distracted. “’Others,’ he says. Meaning ‘pack,’” Cal muttered, possibly not aware that he had started to lightly stroke the side of Ray’s neck. “Do I want a ring? Do I like his ties? ‘Marry me.’ He doesn’tneeda mark, yet he brings it up.”
Ray continued to trail a touch down Cal’s arm, then along his chest.
“Wolf,” Cal started suspiciously, then inhaled sharply when Ray shifted enough for claws to catch on Cal’s tight t-shirt, tugging the fabric without tearing it.
