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The cabin creaked under the wind of the night, lost among the pines of a forest. Crickets sang, and from time to time, a firefly lit up the beautiful nocturnal landscape. Outside, the cloudy sky hid the full moon, though Mason was far too restless to notice. He really was.
Inside, Kieran was carefully finishing up washing his brushes, they were new. His brown hair fell slightly over his pale face, covering the mole on his cheek. His usual red T-shirt had a few paint stains, and the black jacket he still wore seemed to absorb the little light coming from the lamp. He turned just in time to see his enormous werewolf boyfriend approaching, wearing that puppy like grin that always meant trouble… probably something stupid. Maybe it was obvious what was about to happen, because Mason walked in wearing only a towel, hanging dangerously low on his hips.
And Kieran already knew he was going to insist on something he had a gut feeling about, and his intuition never failed. Maybe spending so much time together had taught him to read this idiot, because he quickly cut ahead and spoke, his voice sounding like he was reading his mind.
—No.—
Said Kieran flatly, before Mason could even open his mouth.
—We’re not showering together.—
Mason made a dramatically wounded puppy face.
—But there’s a drought in town…—
Kieran raised an eyebrow with the same energy as an art critic looking at graffiti in a public restroom. By the way… what a horror.
—Since when do you care about the environment?—
—Since now!—
Insisted Mason, stepping closer with that look of “I’m going to hug you even if you kick me.”
—We have to conserve water, Ki…—
—Don’t call me that.—
Kieran cut in with a sigh. He set his brushes aside, crossed his arms, and narrowed his eyes.
—Where did you hear that?—
—There’s not enough water for everyone.—
Mason continued, ignoring both the latent threat in Kieran’s voice and his question.
—So we have to shower together. It’s just… the way it is, babe.—
Kieran squinted. Mason only called him “babe” when he was trying to manipulate him, or when he wanted to share things. Like his food, or his bed, or apparently, the shower.
—Where did you hear that?—
Kieran repeated, now with what little calm he had left.
—On my phone. Right there, okay?—
Kieran extended a pale hand, waiting for his boyfriend to pass him the phone so he could see the big drought announcement.
The phone was right by the small table, next to a vase, literally one step away from Mason.
—Okay. Show me the notification where it says that.—
He asked, trying to stay patient.
Mason swallowed hard, never breaking eye contact. There was an awkward silence. Then, with a drama worthy of a telenovela, he grabbed his phone, raised his arm, and smashed it against the wall. The device bounced to the floor with a sad little sound and died instantly, probably grateful to no longer live that life.
—WHAT PHONE?!—
He cried, half theatrical, half nervous.
—I don’t have a phone!—
Kieran blinked, slowly processing the level of dumbassery he’d just witnessed, his brain short circuited.
—…What?—
—It died.—
Said Mason solemnly, placing a hand over his chest.
—My phone died.—
Then, with a fang filled smile and a wink that would have melted anyone else, but not Kieran, he added:
—But it doesn’t matter… I’ll wait for you in the shower, baby.—
Kieran stayed silent, took a deep breath. He brought a hand to his face and muttered something about “stupid wolves and their hormonal seduction tactics.” Then he looked at his brushes where he had left them; for a moment, he wished they could turn into daggers.
But when Mason turned around to walk away, Kieran smiled… just a little. Only a bit. Barely.
Though of course, he wasn’t about to admit it.
—Don’t get in the water before I do, you wet animal.—
He agreed this time, just this once.
As he walked toward the bathroom, following Mason, his clothes fell away piece by piece. The steam and warmth were already filling the bathroom air.
—Mason, if you touch me while I’m bathing, I’m throwing you out the window again.—
He threatened.
A lie, because Mason was already touching his waist with those arms that had carried him like a stuffed toy more than once, practically guiding them into the warm, perfect water of the tub.
—Whatever you say, sexy vampire.—
Mason murmured with a cheeky grin.
Kieran rolled his eyes. But the smile was still there, hidden.
—There really is room for two… and it’s eco friendly, loooove!—
Mason sang, clinging to his vampire.
—This feels like harassment.—
Kieran said.
—This is environmentally conscious love.—
Replied the werewolf.
—And remember the droughhhht. We’re doing this for the greater good.—
He couldn’t help but laugh. Between the steam, the growls, the yelps, the gentle splash of water, and the moans that escaped, one thing was clear: living with a hormonal werewolf was the most exhausting thing he’d ever done. But for some reason… Kieran wouldn’t let anyone else do it.
Not while their lips crashed, again and again, into those of this idiot he loved so much.