Probably brain damage.
Taylor pressed the back of his hand to Theo’s mouth, sighing with relief when he felt the warm puff of breath. He’d have to do that at least fifty more times just to be sure.
“He’s fine,” Johnny whispered in the darkness.
Johnny.
Johnny, Johnny,Johnny.
Taylor couldn’t look at him either, because what should have just been a casual little bump and grind through horny woods had turned into a full fucking make-out session, complete with tongue and hands and knottouchingthat made him feel like he had started a whole fucking forest fire, and Theo was just a poor helpless koala.
Balling both hands in the blankets, Taylor ground his teeth. He wanted to go home, and if it weren’t for Theo’s probable brain damage he might have just grabbed his clothes and run.
“Tay,” Johnny said, fingers wrapping around his wrist as he went to check Theo’s breathing again. “Tay, he’s fine.”
His eyes slid to Johnny, who was lying on his side—also naked—with only a thin cotton sheet covering his crotch. Johnny was not a cuddler, but even he had his legs tangled up with Theo’s, one arm slung casually across his waist like they hadn’t just nearly fucked him to death.
“We’re never doing this again,” Taylor whispered, resting a forearm across his eyes.
“I agree,” Johnny whispered back.
Then there was silence, the only sounds coming from Theo’s soft breaths. The street lamps had gone out ages ago, bathing the room in darkness except for the red glow from Theo’s alarm clock. It was comforting, to a degree, so Taylor closed his eyes and pretended he was in a deep cave somewhere far, far away.
“Hey” came Johnny’s voice again.
Taylor felt a hand brush his hip, then a nail drawing slow circles over his ribs.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Taylor let out a slow breath, cracking open his eyes. “If the question is ‘where are our undies?’ I have no idea.”
Johnny huffed, his hand drifting from Taylor’s ribs to his sternum. He tapped it once; a quiet thud that was indistinguishable from his heartbeat in the dark.
“Not the question I had in mind, but thanks for confirming.”
Taylor swallowed as Johnny dragged a finger along his throat and over his Adam’s apple, pausing on his chin.
“Do you really only like omegas?”
Taylor’s breath caught, because that was not the question he had been expecting. “No,” he whispered. “I like everyone. Except Manders, or that guy at the corner shop that smells like fish.”
A low rumble resonated in Johnny’s chest, a sound that vibrated through the mattress. “Don’t play dumb, Tay. You know what I’m asking.”
Taylor let his gaze drift towards Johnny again. He was just a shape, a rough outline of his best friend, the person he trusted most in the world. “I… don’tonlylike omegas.”
He felt the bed dip, Johnny’s breath warming his cheek. “But you’ve always said?—”
“I said I prefer omegas, JP. Not that I—I just prefer them. In bed. Because… because they feel… safe. To me.”
Johnny drew in a breath, and it felt as though he was hovering right over Taylor’s face. “Safe?”
Johnny hooked his finger under Taylor’s chin, tilting his head, and when he looked up he saw the red light reflected in Johnny’s eyes.
“Yeah,” he replied, swallowing thickly. “You know how it is. Their scent, it makes you feel all fuzzy and nice and like you’d do anything for them. Being with an alpha isn’t… like… that…” His words trailed off as soon as he realised his mistake.
Shit.
He turned his head towards the wall as Johnny sucked in a sharp breath. “Fuck,” he whispered.
