Cici was fifteen and pimply and very sweet but....
“She isn’t who... She’s not....” Ray bit back the rest and turned. He opened the fridge and rooted around so he wouldn’t have to turn back, finally taking out the milk carton to have a long drink from it. Any other time, his mother would have lightly smacked the back of his head for that. Now she just waited, patient.
“Raymond.”Worry/worry/worryradiated from her. He had to turn back. “Have you asked anyone?”
“No.” That made it worse. Ray closed his eyes, but suddenly all he could see was himself trying to ask that question, how his voice would change, subtly drop into a growl the longer he talked. As close as he’d have to be to ask, his instincts would be so much stronger, overpowering, and he wanted... he wanted....
The growl emerged despite his struggling. He opened his eyes to stare at his mother, absolutely mortified. Her eyes were so wide, he couldn’t help himself—he howled.
“I don’t want to go with a girl, all right? I want to take Bradley Carmichael!”Takehim. That was exactly right. Ray had barely ever spoken to him, didn’t dare, but he didn’t care about the dance, he wanted to take him, to get Bradley in his dad’s old truck, and pin him down, and justburyhimself in him. Find out his scent, his up-close, turned-on scent, and lick it up. He wanted to taste him, and Ray still wasn’t sure about anything, what to do outside of pictures and porn, but he wanted that, again and again.
With someone he’d never even spoken to since grade school. He wasn’t even sure when it had happened. The feelings weren’t new—when he’d been about thirteen, any pleasant scent had set him off to the point where he’d had to take time off from school and disappear into the woods until he could control himself in public—but they were so much stronger now. Nearly unbearable.
He liked Bradley, liked his shiny blond hair, his loud, sassy way of talking and commanding attention, how funny he was in the school plays, the way he sang. He liked how he looked back at Ray sometimes, like he’d never seen anyone so fascinating.
But Ray was already enough of a freak at school. People should have been used to beings by now, but the old lies and prejudicesremained, and this.... Even if Ray did ask, he was sure Bradley would say no.
And his mom, what was she going to think? It wasn’t hated among his kind, but their pack was so small, just the three of them, and Ray was supposed to be....
He jumped as his mom came forward and took his face in her hands.
“Raymond,” she said, and her gaze, her smell, were so much calmer now, even amused. He glared at her, but there wasn’t much force in it. She spoke as if she didn’t even see it. “You have been spending too much time with the humans. They forget things they once knew. There was this fairy once....”
The idea of his mother talking to a fairy at all was distracting, but Ray didn’t get a chance to ask.
“What I’m saying is, ask this boy, Raymond. If you think our people would care, then you’ve forgotten everything I’ve taught you. And most humans have long ago stopped bothering about that when they have bigger things to be afraid of.”
She smiled, her canines very obvious.
Ray couldn’t speak. Which was probably for the best when his mom stepped away and went back to her steak and wine.
“Don’t act so surprised,” she went on smoothly. “Your father and I could smell the infatuation all over you every time you met a new little boy. It isn’t like we didn’t know. Now go get cleaned up for dinner.”
Ray stared at her for another moment, his face burning so much he forgot about his eye, and then turned to leave the room and go clean up.
The End
Rose-red
First posted as part of a charity event in 2023
Set long before the events ofTreasure for TreasureorHis Mossy Boy
Summary: Azar Xu comes home for the summer intent on finally getting her treasure to notice her. She is a teenager, so this does not go well. m/f
Tags: Age difference (but the feelings are one-sided. Think teen with a crush.) Body issues.
“There you are, my gorgeous queen. You only had to ask.” Bernard’s low, warm voice was audible even on the landing where Azar stopped to listen and quickly check to make sure the hair around her bun was smooth.
She took a step to peer down the stairs at Bernard, who was dusting and speaking to the house. Of course, it was the house. Azar didn’t know why she’d thought anything else, no matter how briefly. Bernard loved the house. Azar’s family had a claim on it, stronger than anyone’s except the one who had built it, but to Bernard it washis.
He never said that, not to them, anyway. But he said it to the house all the time.
Azar put a hand to the banister, which was well-polished wood that gleamed in the morning light. Probably preening forBernard. If any house could preen, it would be this one, and it certainly wouldn’t do it for Azar.
“Going to have you looking exquisite.” Bernard was practically cooing. “There will be no complaints.”
Bernard didn’t use a feather duster. He said a duster only spread the dust around. He used soft, clean cloths and went through the house room by room on a regular schedule even when he was the only one there. He didn’t wear a uniform; he wore jeans, t-shirts, and sneakers, and after only one attempt, her parents had given up trying to make him wear anything else. Azar wished she knew how he’d managed that.
