He looked at Ray, sighed, then turned off the water. “Sorry.”
He was nervous, which Ray did not like. Ray came over to the sink and took the towel from Cal’s hands. Then he dropped down to a crouch to inspect the damage. Cal had taken his sneakers off as he’d entered the house, tossing them onto a small pile by the door. His socks too, even though he must be cold. Ray dabbed at the tiny splashes of Doctor Mister on the tops of Cal’s feet and on one of his toes, and pretended not to notice when those toes wiggled or the startled sound Cal made.
“It’s your house,” Ray remarked without looking up. The pool of soda on the floor wasn’t big but droplets had probably gone everywhere.
Cal exhaled shakily. “You really don’t have to…” Whatever he meant to say was lost when Ray stood up. Cal tipped his head back, perhaps automatically, and with the overhead lights brighter on his face, Ray could see that not all of the wetness on his cheeks was soda.
He stepped in closer. Cal tipped his head back just that much more. “Ray,” he said quietly.
Ray studied the sparkling tear trapped in Cal’s eyelashes, the trail over his cheekbone. His mouth watered. “May I?” he asked, rough, human words. Cal seemed confused, but nodded, so Ray dragged his thumb through glitter and soda and held it up to the light before licking it.
“Werewolves,” Cal whispered, eyes on Ray’s mouth as Ray considered the flavors.
The soda was odd, fruity but not, fizzy and fake. The tears were lighter than simple syrup, with a hint of salt.
Ray licked his thumb again. Cal pulled in a breath. Ray was suddenly certain that Cal would not object if Ray were to lean in to sample a tear directly. Maybe Ray had done it before, once upon a time.
The thought made Ray pull back, then drop down again to wipe the pool of strangely flavored soda off the floor.
“Did I make you cry then?” he asked, leaving the towel to sop up the worst of it. “When we met?”
Cal swallowed and said nothing, which was an answer in itself.
Ray nodded as though it didn’t hurt. “I’m not good for you.” He had thought it in Cassandra’s house, but now he knew it. “A fairy and a were. You must be—”
“Shut up.” Cal slid a hand into Ray’s hair, pushing it out of Ray’s face. “We have our issues,” he added quietly, motionless as fairies were not said to ever be, “but you’re mine. Or… if you want me, after all this, you are,” he went on, taking his hand away. “I’ll mop later. Don’t worry about it.”
The subject change had Ray frowning, then standing up to toss the towel in the sink with more force than necessary. “I don’t understand. You said—”
He’d said Ray washisas if he wanted that.
“Yeah, well, you didn’t understand it then, either.” Cal wiped his face with the back of his hand, then went to the sink to wash up better. “Although, to be fair to both of us—well, to me—you never mentioned thematepart of things.” He glanced to Ray at that, frowning slightly, then reached for a paper towel. “The slow build in your colors… I didn’t even notice at first. You just loved me from afar, and were terrible and wonderful, and didn’t seem to realize what it means when a fairy sparkles for you.”
“Fairies always sparkle.”
“Sometimes more than other times. Sometimes brighter than other times.” Cal absently wiped at his chest with the damp paper towel. “Your food’s in the oven. One of those frozen fish with vegetables meals. It’s the family size, but it’s basically all for you. There’s time to go shower first, if you want.”
“You didn’t need to cook for me.” As far as Ray knew, Cal still hadn’t eaten anything but a few pear drops. He turned around, somehow still surprised by the accent wall decorated like a chalkboard despite how he’d been told about it, and then went to the pantry. The shelves filled with brightly colored cereals and toaster pastries and boxed cookies made him blink, but he grabbed one of the several flavors of Girl Scout cookies stacked near the back and shoved it at Cal until Cal took it.
“It was hardly cooking,” Cal answered belatedly, but opened the box as he walked out of the kitchen. “Come on. Let’s take care of the ritual stuff before anything else.” He stuffed two cookies in his mouth, then held one out behind him until Ray followed after him and took it. It was shortbread, sweeter than the dry, old-fashioned kind. “It’s not like I was touching the fish, though I will remind you as I often have to remind people—fairies used to live in the wild. And we had a vicious reputation then. I doubt blood and guts disturbed us much. Also… I worked at crime scenes with you, Ray. Don’t growl.”
Ray had not been growling. He accepted another cookie he didn’t want since Cal seemed to eat his at a 2:1 ratio to what Ray ate.
Cal paused outside the door to Ray’s bedroom. “I don’t like it though. But neither do you.” He had crumbs at the corner of his downturned mouth. “Weres aren’t bloodthirsty, angry beasts. You have nightmares. Why couldn’t this person have taken those?”
The door was open. Cal went in, passing the bed and continuing to eat, only to stop at the door to the bathroom and backtrack to where Ray stood.
Sex/come/sweat
Ray shook his head. He couldn’t breathe without tasting the passion in the room. It left him hot beneath his clothes, made his mouth water. He swallowed painfully and pulled at his shirt. He still had to breathe.
Sugar/sex/Cal/sugar/sex/Cal
Cal snapped his fingers in front of Ray’s face. Pointedly. Several times.
Ray tore his attention away from the bed, fromCal/his/Cal,and that bed which they had been in together only hours ago.The bed was made but rumpled, as if they’d fucked on top of the covers.
He swallowed again before he met Cal’s knowing gaze.
