While the sentiment was sweet, Emory’s brain caught and held onto something he’d said earlier. “You…want to shift with me? I mean, you want my lion to see your octopus?”
“Uhm, yes? I’m assuming that’s the goal? My dads hang out with each other and with me and Shay as seahorses all the time. We like to go swimming together. Lions… They like water, right? I know tigers and jaguars love swimming.” Cameron scrunched up his face as if he was trying to think. Suddenly, his face fell. “Or…do they not like swimming? I mean, doyounot like swimming?”
Honestly, at this point, Emory would have said he liked taking naked bubble baths with sea urchins if it would make Cameron smile again. Over the course of their conversation, Cameron had moved closer and closer on Emory’s lap. Everywhere their bodies were touching, even through their clothes, was buzzing.
No one had ever made Emory, or his lion, feel this way. Cameron’s close proximity was making his blood race; meanwhile, his warmth and sweet smile made Emory want towrap him up and hold him for the rest of eternity. The contrast in feelings and desires was making Emory almost lightheaded.
He took a chance and brought his hand down from Cameron’s hair to rest on his waist. Cameron didn’t even blink. He was looking at him intently, that fear still evident. Emory wanted to allay it more than anything, but he also didn’t want to lie.
“In general, lions are not particularly good swimmers compared to other big cats. That being said, we had a pool growing up, so I did a fair amount of swimming as a human and a lion. I’m still not a deep-sea swimmer, but I don’t mind water. Actually, I have a rather large tub in my apartment.”
Emory hummed thoughtfully. Maybe Cameron would want to use it sometime.
The idea had his lion—and him—purring in delight.
Cameron pressed his hand against Emory’s chest. “Are you purring? I noticed you make a lot of low rumbling noises.”
Emory’s mane and tongue returned to normal as he laughed. “It’s funny you say that, because Ronan has been making fun of me for years. He says I have over ten different purrs. I think they’re just normal noises! When I’m thinking, when I’m angry, when I’m tired…” Emory took another chance and pulled Cameron forward until he came to rest with his shoulder nestled under Emory’s arm, sitting sideways on his lap.
“This is also a lion thing, by the way. We love nuzzling.” He nuzzled his cheek into the crook of Cameron’s neck, taking in the concentrated smell of him. So sweet and salty. “You said you have ink glands?”
Cameron nodded and shifted so he was sitting on one butt cheek. He gestured at the crease where his butt met his thigh, and Emory tried not to ogle him. “Do they…”
“Produce ink? Not when I’m human. They end up under two of my tentacles when I shift. And…” Cameron bit his plump lower lip.
Emory tilted his head, which he now realized was an uncanny mimicry of what his lion was also doing.
“You can partial shift, right? With your tongue and your mane—and I’m assuming your teeth for mating?”
Emory nodded. “And my tail. It’s a party trick Ronan and I taught ourselves.”
“Well, I can sort of…sprout tentacles. I can control up to two, sometimes three at a time. If I try to do more than that, they sort of hang limp from my pelvis, back, and hips.”
Emory’s mouth dropped open, but he quickly shut it. Maybe all of that nonsense about tentacles from the noisy omegas was true. Emory had very little control over his tail when he did “sprout it”, as Cameron had said. It merely reacted to his mood, or more accurately, the mood of his lion.
“You can control up to three of them? That’s incredible. Is that normal for octopus shifters?”
Cameron’s body tensed, and he sat up straight, pulling away from Emory’s chest.
“I didn’t grow up around many other water shifters aside from my adopted parents and sister. In college, I had a rough first few years and struggled to make friends. I really missed out on meeting other shifters like myself. I’ve met a few squids in passing, but never another octopus.” Cameron wasn’t looking at Emory. His body seemed to be coiling, starting with his shoulders and running all the way down to his thighs, which clenched on Emory’s legs. “I mean, my bio mom was an octopus, so I guess I technically know one other, but I haven’t spoken to her since...”
Before Emory knew what was happening, Cameron leaped up. Emory instinctively jerked forward and reached for him, but he dodged away.
“I’m going to get us more drinks!” he called as he weaved around a few partygoers and disappeared.
Emory stared at one of the drink carts, which was only a few feet away, and then slowly sank back into a slouch.
So, Cameron didn’t like to be touched by strangers or have anything to do with his birth family brought up. Got it. Except Emory hadn’t meant to. He’d asked a pretty innocuous question—or at least he had thought it was innocuous. He let out a large sigh, and his two couch-mates gave him a look before they got up and left him as well.
Great. Now Emory wouldn’t have that as an excuse to hold his partner when he returned.
If they even were partners.
If he even returned.
Emory stared morosely at the floor for what felt like an eternity. He was considering going to look for Cameron when a familiar voice pulled him from his thoughts.
“Either my floor personally insulted you, or something must have happened.”
