He was halfway through the first episode of the season when the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of his pizza. Hurrying up off the couch, Sebastian grabbed his wallet and walked to the door.
“That was fast,” Sebastian said, opening the door with a grin and freezing at the sight of who was at his doorstep.
“Were you expecting me?”
Viggo looked down at him, looming and huge and filling out his suit just right, his imperiously raised eyebrow making him look positively rakish.
“Hi,” Sebastian said, taking a startled step back. Somehow, in the forty-eight hours they’d spent apart, Sebastian had forgotten how tall and imposing Viggo was. His heart jumped. “It’s not Sunday yet.”
Viggo tilted his head, his expression turning rueful. He reached out and squeezed Sebastian’s shoulder, his broad hand warm and firm and making Sebastian shudder. “I’m not here to force you back,” he said, brushing his thumb over Sebastian’s clavicle, the move cursory and almost innocent. “I needed to talk to you. Are you free now?”
Sebastian looked down, staring at Viggo’s fingers cupped around his shoulder. They were huge, like the rest of him, and for a moment the only thing he could think about was the fact that one of those fingers had been inside of him. He took a deep breath and wrenched himself away.
“Sure, of course. You can come in.” He took another step back and stood aside. “My mother isn’t home.”
“Are you saying that if she were here, I wouldn’t be welcome?” Viggo teased, walking into the house and toeing off his dress shoes. He bent down and picked them up, placing them neatly on the shoe rack next to the wall while shooting a playful grin in Sebastian’s direction.
“No, I was just-”
“I was just teasing,” Viggo interrupted. “Your mother has every reason to hate me. I’m pretty relieved that she’s not here to whack me over the head with a shovel.”
Sebastian could only imagine how his mother would react if she saw Viggo on her doorstep, and he shared Viggo’s relief at not having to experience it.
“We can talk in the living room,” Sebastian said, not sure how to respond to Viggo’s words.
He led him into the house, gesturing for him to take a seat in the armchair next to the couch.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked, nervous at suddenly having to deal with Viggo again. The last time they’d been together had been terrible. “We have soda, water, and I think maybe beer, but I’d have to check. I also just ordered a pizza that should be here any minute.”
“Just water, thank you,” Viggo said, unbuttoning his suit jacket and taking a seat, his oversized body making the very normal-sized chair look cramped. “I won’t be here for long.”
“Right,” Sebastian muttered, hesitating before rushing out of the room. He grabbed a glass from the kitchen cupboard, filling it with filtered water from the fridge and wondering if he should add ice.
Did werewolves like ice?
Everyone liked ice, Sebastian decided, hitting the button to dispense it. A rush of ice cubes fell out of the dispenser, splashing into the glass and getting water all over Sebastian’s hand.
Wiping his hand off on his sweatpants, he walked back to the living room where Viggo was waiting for him. Accepting the glass, the alpha turned his head and looked around the room, showing off the line of his jaw and the bob of his Adam’s apple.
He had the proportions of a cartoon superhero, Sebastian mused – his square jaw and dimpled chin almost cliché.
“Why don’t you take a seat,” Viggo said, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips. Sebastian blushed, realizing that he’d been caught staring.
He sat down, folding his hands in his lap as he tried to control his blush. He felt like he’d felt back when he and Viggo first met at Life Mate, overwhelmed and inappropriately turned on in equal measure, with no idea how he should behave.
“What can I do for you?” he asked.
Leaning forward, Viggo put his water on the coffee table. The playful smirk from a second before was gone, and he suddenly looked very serious.
“I’m here to apologize,” he said, fixing his tie and smoothing it down over the mound of his pecs. “You were right about what Bjorn told you.”
“I was?”
Sebastian knew that he hadn’t misunderstood what Bjorn had told him, but he was surprised that Viggo was acknowledging it. He’d gotten the impression that even so much as hinting at it was taboo, never mind outright talking about it.
“Yes.” Viggo spoke the word like it pained him. “Bjorn was shot, and thebumpshe showed you were the results of that. Somehow a werewolf fanatic got a hold of moonrock and had the clever idea to load it into a shotgun and attack us with it. That’s the reason Bjorn went feral.”
Sebastian stared, completely caught off guard.
