“Yeah,” Josh answered after one last weak cough. “I’m fine.”
A few minutes later he was sitting up, sipping bone broth, and wearing Nero’s sweatshirt, which no longer felt like putting on another blanket. Sometime in the past few weeks, he’d started filling out. And though Nero was always going to be broader and taller, Josh no longer felt like a ninety-pound weakling next to him.
He sipped his broth as others filtered by to check on him. Captain M and Happy gave him a stern and amused look, respectively, then went down to inspect the damage. Bing and Yordan walked past with barely a glance as they followed the captain. And Wiz shot him a final glare before taking Stratos inside to the stable wing of the mansion. That left him alone outside with Nero on what would have been a spectacular day, if he didn’t look at the plume of smoke still wafting out from the blown-out windows of the lab.
“Josh…,” Nero said, but Josh cut him off.
“Save it, okay? I know I fucked up. It happens. In fact, it happens a lot with me, so get used to it or send me packing. Obviously I’m not the guy to solve your problem. You picked the wrong geek to turn furry.” God, never had words burned so badly in his mouth. He wanted to be the guy who fixed things, who had the answers, who came up with the tech that saved the day. Hell, he’d been getting off on the fantasy for weeks. It was what had kept him working deep into the night, and it was the bright image that filled his mind when the numbers didn’t line up.
Except now he knew it was all a fantasy. He wasn’t a brilliant chemist. He wasn’t even a good one—just an unorthodox one who took stupid risks, pushed things beyond the safety limits, and had nearly vaporized himself and Stratos. God, he was such an idiot.
“You probably ought to send me home,” he said glumly, knowing it was true but really, really hoping it wasn’t about to happen.
“Yeah,” echoed Nero as he adjusted himself behind Josh. It was the way they often sat after Josh shifted back to human. And though he didn’t need a full-on orgasm to ground him back into his body, it was always nice to lean back into Nero’s arms and let the big guy surround him. “I can see why you’d think that, but there’s something you haven’t factored in.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“No one thinks you’re going to succeed. So when you blow up the lab, you’re doing what they expect.”
It took a moment to absorb that, but when he did, it felt like another punch to the gut. “Well, geez, thanks, Coach. Should I go slit my wrists now?”
Nero pinched his thigh hard in response.
“Ow!”
“Don’t go getting all huffy.Listen.”
Josh rubbed the side of his thigh. “I can’t hear you over the throbbing in my leg.”
“Bullshit. You love that.”
Well, maybe. Rough sex was one of the best parts about being a werewolf. Pain and pleasure mixed in a wild cascade of sensations, and if it ever got out of hand, they both healed fast. Plus, it never gottooout of hand.
“Fine,” he grumbled. “It’s hard to hear over mythrobbinglower parts.” Which was true. His erection was already heavy against his thigh, and he wasn’t wearing anything on his lower half except the heavy blanket. It would be so easy to start rubbing backward against—
“That’s not what you need right now.”
Undeterred, Josh pressed himself against Nero’s hot cock. “Are you sure?”
“Would you stop? I’m about to tell you something you don’t know.”
“Ha. I know everything.” It was a lie, obviously, but it felt good to settle into their usual banter where he was the smart one and Nero was the dumb jock. It wasn’t remotely true. Nero was incredibly smart about people in a way Josh could only imagine, but it was nice to pretend. “Go ahead, Obi-Wan. Teach the young Padawan.”
Nero didn’t respond to the jibe. Instead, he continued as if Josh hadn’t said a word. And that, too, was part of their pattern. “Did you know that the first werewolf in your line is still alive?”
“Bullshit,” Josh said with a snort. “The first werewolf in my line was born in the early 1800s. I checked.”
“Yes. And he and his mother are still alive.” Nero leaned back against a bench, adjusting his position so that he had back support while still managing to tuck Josh close. “His mom is… different. She’s the magical power in the line, and where she gets it from is well beyond my brain. But he—in his own words—was a screw-up from the very beginning.”
Josh mentally ran through the early reports he’d read for a mention of his ancestors. There was a whole lot of hero worship for a guy named—
“Ever read anything about Wulfric and his mother, Lovina?”
“Of course. They were the ones who brokered the alliance between the fae and the shifters in the late 1800s.”
Nero shook his head. “Yeah. They’re still alive. She was born in the late 1700s. He was born in 1815, I think.”
“No way.”
