“Dylan likes the food,” August offered as an explanation, winking at Dylan when Ryker wasn’t looking.
“It’s pretty good,” Ryker agreed.
Dylan was almost offended. This was the best Thai food he’d ever had, and Ryker just thought it waspretty good? He put his beer down and took another bite of curry, just to confirm to himself that it really was as good as the first bite suggested.
It was.
“So, are we watching a movie?” August asked, leaning back and spreading his thighs a little wider. The move pushed his thigh flush against Dylan’s, making Dylan’s stomach flutter.
“Steve and I found one,” Ryker said, reaching for the remote and turning on the TV. “It’s number three on Netflix.”
Dylan watched the screen, perking up when Ryker selected an action movie that had come out a few weeks ago that he’d been wanting to see. The main character was played by a werewolf.
“Look okay?” he asked.
“I vote yes,” Dylan said. He liked action movies, and watching Brock Heeler doing stunts and looking like a badass was never a waste of time.
The fact that he appeared to spend a significant chunk of the movie shirtless – at least according to the trailer – only added to the movie’s appeal.
“I’m fine with it,” August said. He got a thoughtful look on his face, turning to Steve. “Isn’t Brock Heeler a member of your pack?”
Dylan rounded on Steve with wide eyes. He’d had a poster of Brock Heeler on his wall since he was thirteen, and he’d jerked off to it more times than he could count.
“He is,” Steve said. He sounded amused. “He’s my cousin.”
Dylan was starstruck by association. He swallowed, looking at Steve and noticing that there was quite a bit of resemblance between him and the man gracing the poster on the TV.
He’d picked the wrong werewolf. If he’d picked Steve, the alpha could have introduced him to his famous relative.
Noticing Dylan’s expression, Steve chuckled. “He’s not as cool as you think.”
Dylan was sure that wasn’t true.
“He’s not. His only hobbies are working out and playing video games.”
“Video games are cool,” Dylan objected. He didn’t play them himself – he’d never had the patience to get past the tutorial of any game he’d ever tried to play – but that didn’t mean they weren’t cool.
“All right, video games are cool and Brock Heeler isn’t a loser,” August said, before Steve could further besmirch the character of Dylan’s first celebrity crush. “Now let’s watch.”
He hit play, and Dylan shot Steve one final glare before he turned his attention to the screen.
* * *
Two hours later, Dylan was feeling stuffed to the gills. He was leaning against August’s side, nestled comfortably under his muscular arm, resting his cheek on the mound of the alpha’s firm pectoral muscle.
The movie was better than Dylan had expected it to be. The action was excellently done – the stunts riveting and spectacular – and the story had just enough meat to hold it all together. Brock Heeler had been as enticing to look at as ever. There had been a scene half way through the movie where he’d donned a tight-fitting military getup – with black tactical pants, big black boots and an armored vest – and Dylan had spent way too much time wondering if August and Ryker would be willing to dress up like that for him.
It was a thought he never would have had before meeting the two alphas. He’d never been into roleplay, and though he’d always enjoyed a man in uniform, it wouldn’t have occurred to him to do anything with that in the bedroom.
The outfit had included a pair of rough looking tactical gloves. Given how much August and Ryker seemed to like wearing gloves, the outfit would do a nice job of hitting both Dylan’s appreciation of a muscular man in uniform and August and Ryker’s enjoyment of wearing gloves when they were having sex.
It would be a win-win.
“I think I’m going to head home.”
Dylan lifted his head and glanced over at Steve, wondering once again exactly what was going on with him. He’d been unusually quiet both before and after the movie, and unlike August and Ryker, he hadn’t had many comments on the realism of the various stunts Brock Heeler’s character pulled off.
“You’re welcome to stay,” August said, stroking Dylan’s shoulder with an absentminded brush of his fingers that felt very nice. “We could fire up the PlayStation or something.”
