On Sunday night at four fifty five, John was standing outside of Owen’s bookstore, staring through the glass doors and wondering if Luke had been wrong about Martha being there. The lights inside were off, the store cast in eerie shadows, and when John knocked on the glass there was no reply.
Shifting the six-pack of beer he’d brought to his other hand, John knocked again. When he didn’t get a reply he reached into his pocket to get his phone. If Martha wasn’t there, Luke could just come through and get him himself. Before he could unlock the screen of his phone, however, the door at the back of the store opened and Martha came into view. She gave him a little wave, making her way over to the door and opening it.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you knocking. I hope you weren’t waiting long,” she said, letting him inside. She had a bag slung over her shoulder and a set of keys in her hand.
“Not at all. Thanks for letting me in,” John said, smiling at her. He’d only met Martha a few times, but she seemed like a nice enough woman.
“Not a problem. You can just go right ahead through. I was just about to lock up and head on home.”
“I hope you weren’t waiting for my sake,” John said, looking toward the door at the back of the store. It looked normal enough, but john knew better.
“Not at all. I always stay a while after closing on Sundays to work on the books. It was no trouble at all.”
John smiled. “That’s good. I’ll just go on through. Have a nice night!”
Martha smiled at him. “You too, dear.”
She stepped through the door out onto the street, locking the door and shooting off another little wave before walking away. John waved back and turned to the portal.
Since John wasn’t a witch he couldn’t open it himself, and he lifted his hand to knock on the door. A second later it swung open and Luke was grinning down at him.
“John, you made it,” Luke said, clapping him on the shoulder and grinning. “Come on in.”
John let himself be pulled through the portal and into Luke’s house. As he crossed the threshold of the portal there was a swoop in his stomach, but it passed quickly.
“Thanks for inviting me,” he said, looking around the upstairs hallway of Luke’s house. It looked like any upper middle class suburban home, with beige carpets and white plaster walls, except that the door to the linen closet led to a bookstore in another city.
“I’m glad you could make it,” Luke said, putting his hand on John’s shoulder and steering him toward the stairs. Looking up at him John was struck by how similar he and Carter looked, and how different he felt with Luke’s hand on him compared to Carter. With Carter there had been sparks every time he was touched, while Luke was just… big.
John smiled. If not even having Luke’s massive hand on him could elicit a reaction, then that meant that his crush on the other man was well and truly dead.
It was a relief.
“I brought beer,” John said, holding up the six-pack. Luke took it and grinned.
“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll put these in the fridge. They’ll go great with the seven layer dip I made.”
“Made or bought?” John asked, teasing.
“Made,” Luke said, the word forceful. Then he grinned. “Owen and I have been taking a cooking class. It’s been fun.”
John tried to picture Luke at a cooking class for couples, the mental image making him smile.
“Good for you,” he said.
When they got downstairs, John sat down on the couch with one of the beers he’d brought while Luke went into the kitchen for the dip. The TV was on, a pair of wizened old commentators discussing the upcoming game, and John put his feet up on the coffee table and made himself comfortable.
“So how are things?” Luke asked when he came back into the room, carrying a bowl of tortilla chips and a dish of cheesy seven layer dip. He set them both down on the table, grabbing one of the chips and helping himself to a huge scoop of dip.
“Pretty good,” John said, realizing with a jolt that he wouldn’t be able to tell Luke about Carter. If Carter was in the closet, the last thing he’d want was for John to go blabbing to his pack. “What about you?”
“Things are good,” Luke said, sitting down and popping open a can of beer. He took a long sip and grinned. “I just wrapped up a big case at work, Owen is great, and I haven’t gotten into any trouble with my alpha. Couldn’t ask for more.”
“That’s great,” John said, happy for his friend. When they first met Luke hadn’t been in the best place, so it was good that his life was back to the way he wanted it.
John leaned forward and grabbed one of the chips, tasting the dip. It was actually pretty good.
“And Owen? How’s he doing?”
