Chapter Twelve

Descending by Mistake (7 Letters)

Seb

I went and picked Holt up at around eight, and he seemed relaxed and unspeakably happy as he chatted about the ideas Taylor already had for Goliaths on the drive back to work. He was in an excellent mood, and when we got to the office, he seemed surprised but pleased to find out that most of the tasks he'd assigned Larkin in his absence had actually been completed.

"Seb helped," Larkin blurted instantly, giving me a shy smile from across the room as I sat back down on the couch and picked up my crossword book. "He helped a lot. He got that leak fixed in the bathroom."

"Oh. Well, thank you, Seb." Holt grinned at me, then turned his impressed smile back to Larkin. "But still, good work. I appreciate it."

Larkin flushed at the praise, eyes darting back to me. He mumbled, "No prob, boss."

"Taylor's not coming to watch the show tonight." Holt pouted a little. "I'm gonna go check everything's ready and that there are no issues, then I'll watch from the box. You can do what you want. I'm sure you've been hanging out backstage a lot this week, huh?" he added wryly, brow quirking.

Larkin flushed, squirming in his seat. "I actually haven't. I've been here. Working hard like always."

Holt chuckled at that, which meant he was definitely in a great mood. "Well then I guess you deserve the night off. Go flirt with the wrestlers to your heart's content."

I tensed slightly, staring down at my crossword. My pulse sped up a little when Larkin uncomfortably said, "Um, nah. I think I'll watch the show with you tonight. If that's okay."

"Sure." Holt shrugged and made his way to the door. "Seb, same goes for you. Feel free to stay in here and relax."

I looked up, eyes darting to Larkin for a brief moment, before I heard myself telling Holt, "Actually, I might come and watch the show tonight too."

Holt stopped at the door, blinking at me in surprise. "Really? Okay. Sounds good."

"It's not too loud in the box," Larkin blurted as Holt left the room. "You'll still be able to concentrate on your crossword and stuff."

I gave him a tiny smile. "I know. I've been in there before."

"Oh right. Yeah." He bleated a laugh, fiddling with his keyboard and mouse. "And there's pretzels. And cream soda in the minifridge. I love cream soda."

I made a mental note to buy a case of cream soda to keep in the fridge at home. "Cream soda's nice."

"Have you ever tried it with caramel apple vodka? Oh my god, dude, it's so good."

I smiled. "I haven't. I'll have to try it sometime."

His eyes brightened. "We could—"

I went perfectly still, holding my breath as he stopped abruptly, but then he just fidgeted and said, "Um, you could try it when you hang out with Ludo or something. And… Brian."

I let out a slow breath, trying not to feel disappointed. "I've never hung out with Brian outside of work."

Brian—the werewolf wrestler, B. Were—was kind of a lone wolf, for lack of a better term. Quiet and very shy. He was friendly with Ludo and me, but we'd never bumped into him outside of work, not even in the various haunts frequented or run by werewolves, like Lupe's Diner and a shitty dive bar on the edge of town that didn't give a shit about the fistfights that commonly broke out among drunk and riled-up werewolves.

"Oh." Larkin jerked his desk chair restlessly from side to side. "Okay. I just thought… You seem… friendly."

I shrugged. "He's a nice guy."

"He is. He's really nice. All the wrestlers are really nice." He went quiet as I tensed up. I didn't really want to hear Larkin gushing about the wrestlers he wanted to fuck. But then he awkwardly said, "I feel… kind of bad for, like, um, objectifying them all. Maybe. Do you… think I have been?"

He was gazing at me like I knew all the answers. I exhaled and lowered my crossword book.

"I wouldn't say so," I said steadily. "You flirt with them a lot, but they flirt back, and you don't actually speak to them like they're just… sexual objects who exist for your pleasure. No worse than how they all reacted to seeing Taylor for the first time, from what I've heard. You hang out with them. You talk to them. You're friends."

Larkin nodded, nibbling on his lower lip with his little fangs. "I really like them. As people, I mean. Not just… I mean, I want to… you know… do stuff with them?" He sounded a lot less certain about that than he had a week ago. "If they want to, I mean. But I'm not just gonna stop being friends with them after, um… after."

After he'd fucked them. A pang went through my chest as I nodded in silence.

"You know, like you and me," he then said hurriedly. "We're friends. We're not gonna stop being friends because of… you know. The thing. The lessons."

I nodded again, swallowing around the lump in my throat.

"I really hope not, anyway," he added anxiously. "You're really cool, Seb. And I'm—I hope you know how grateful I am for you helping me."

My heart squeezed. "I know. I'm happy to do it."

"When…" He trailed off shyly. "When, um, do you think we'll… have the next one?"

God. I shifted as my cock stiffened in a rush, already picturing it.

"Monday?" I rasped, looking over at him. "After the shows are over for the week. You could come to my place again that evening."

"Okay," he breathed immediately with an emphatic nod. "Okay, yeah. Cool. That's… Monday. Shweet. Um, want me to… bring anything?"

I huffed a tiny laugh. "Like what?"

He flushed. "I don't know. I just meant… ooh, I could get some of that caramel apple vodka and some cream soda. So you can try it."

I gave him a wry smile. "Probably shouldn't drink, given what we'll be doing."

"Oh, right. Yeah. Of course." His brow wrinkled as he gnawed on his lower lip, then sheepishly admitted, "I don't actually have anything I can bring. You know, like… sex stuff. I don't have any, um, toys or anything."

My belly tightened as I watched him—watched that delicate flush spread down his neck. Suddenly, I was picturing Larkin on his knees in front of me, mewling out those little moans around my cock as he sucked me eagerly and bounced on a dildo suctioned to the floor. Maybe with a vibrator strapped to his dick.

I doubted he'd last even a few minutes.

I doubted I would either.

"I have toys," I murmured darkly. "But I don't think we'll need them yet."

We could work up to that. There was still plenty we could do before we got to the point of adding accessories. Whatever kept him coming back for as long as possible.

Larkin was giving me that perky, wide-eyed look, and I could tell he was desperate to know what toys I owned. Maybe he was even picturing me using them. Fuck, I hoped so. I knew he had to at least find me physically attractive—he got too fucking hard for me for that to be in doubt. But was any part of him attracted to me as a person? To Seb, the werewolf who did crossword puzzles and didn't say much and was comfortable with a quiet life, not a wild one that involved partying with wrestlers and staying out late and trying new experiences?

I wanted him to want me back so much that it physically hurt. But I was a realist. I'd be too boring for Larkin. He'd get restless with me, and there was nothing wrong with that. There was nothing wrong with him wanting more from life than I could offer.

The door opened, both of us snapping our heads toward it. Holt walked in carrying Cora, whose tongue was lolling out as she panted merrily. When she did that, it almost looked like she was smiling maniacally and her eyes drifted outward. My mouth twitched as I stood up to take her.

I liked dogs. I wanted one someday. But I'd always pictured getting one once I was settled in the committed relationship that I knew wasn't going to end. Adding to the family we'd already created. A little pup, me and…

"Everything good?" Larkin asked Holt, standing up and making his way over. He gave me a tiny smile as he reached out and stroked Cora's little dome head, standing perhaps a touch closer than necessary.

"All fine." Holt smiled, still looking relaxed, which was rare. Usually he came back complaining about at least one of the wrestlers being "a bratty pain in the ass."

"Are we heading to the box now?" Larkin was still standing close, studiously watching Cora as he fussed over her, laughing a little when her long tongue emerged to try and lick his wrist. He jerked his hand away, and it briefly landed on my bicep. I heard his breath catch before he slowly lowered it to his side and took a tiny step back.

"Not yet. Just want to get a few things done first." Holt headed for his office, then paused. "Did the merch shipment come in?"

"Yep. This afternoon."

"Great." Holt was eyeing Larkin like he didn't really know what to do with an assistant who'd actually done his work. "I guess just… chill out until the show starts, then."

"I'll take Cora for her walk." Larkin reached for her, so I handed her over. Then his eyes darted up to meet mine as he flushed. "I mean, unless you wanted to…?"

"Go ahead."

He hesitated as Holt vanished into his office and shut the door behind him, then quickly licked his lips and shrugged. "You could come with. If you want."

I opened my mouth to say yes. Spend more time with Larkin, just the two of us? Of course I wanted to. But then I realised that Ludo would already be upstairs, working entry in the front lobby. I was a little worried that he'd be able to… tell if he saw me with Larkin.

"It's okay." I tried to make it sound like he'd be doing me a favour to let me tag along with him, because I absolutely did not want Larkin to think I didn't want to hang out with him. "You have your routine with her. I'll just slow it down."

"She likes you," he protested, then grinned at me. "She can sense a kindred spirit, I bet."

Chuckling, I sat back down on the couch and picked up my crossword book. "I'll wait here."

"Are you really coming to watch the show tonight?" he asked hopefully, not moving.

I nodded, giving him a tiny smile. "Sure. Been a while since I watched the wrestling."

He grinned at me—that big, beautiful smile that had the power to make my day every time I saw it. "Noice. Cool. It'll be fun. Okay, I better go take her. I won't be long."

I watched as he headed for the door, adjusting Cora in his arms so he could kiss the top of her head as he said, "Let's go, babycakes. Let's see how unfathomably large your poops are tonight."

"Do you have poop bags?" I asked quickly, trying not to twist this scenario into something more intimate in my head. Me relaxing at home while Larkin took our dog for their evening walk.

God, I was a sad, sad man.

He grinned back at me and rolled his eyes. "I always have poop bags in my suit pocket because of her. Seriously, bro, she does about three a night."

I chuckled. "Alright."

He still didn't leave, and his grin turned sly before he innocently asked, "Is it the same for werewolves? Super active bowels?"

I huffed in amusement and gave a shrug. "My diet's fairly good and I work out a lot, so I guess I'm pretty regular. Don't usually take three shits a day though." Feeling a little sly myself, I added in a deadpan voice, "I've never shat in a bag, either."

Larkin's face immediately turned deep blue as he stiffened. "Oh my god, I knew you heard that. It was for a prank, dude!"

"It would've been an excellent, disgusting prank," I told him solemnly, then suppressed a snicker and asked, "What did you do with the bag?"

He squirmed a little, tilting his head away from Cora, who was frantically trying to lick his cheek. "I flushed it. It was only paper, so… But honestly, I've been a little worried that it's, like, clogged a pipe and somehow caused the leak in the restrooms."

My brows rose. Just to tease him a little more, I asked, "How big was the shit?"

He went an even deeper blue. "The bag , not the—Oh my god, dude, can we please stop talking about my shit?"

"You brought it up."

He made a strangled sound and turned for the door. "You're the worst. I'm going now."

I was still smiling to myself a couple minutes later as I focused on my crossword. I just loved talking to Larkin, and it felt easy between us. I knew some people thought he was an airhead, but he wasn't. He struggled to articulate things succinctly, he got distracted easily, and he liked to have fun, not take things too seriously. None of those were problems, in my opinion. They just made him who he was.

And I loved who he was.

Holt emerged from his office about fifteen minutes later, just as Larkin was getting back from Cora's walk. "Ready?"

I nodded and stood, tucking my crossword book into my back pocket. As the four of us made our way down the corridor, I leaned closer to Larkin and asked in a murmur, "How big was it?" while nodding at Cora.

He snickered, scritching lightly at her side. "Stonking, dude. Longer than her leg, I swear."

I suppressed a smile as Holt gave us an odd look, no doubt wondering why we were discussing Cora's shit.

"So how's Taylor?" Larkin asked him cheerfully. "What've you guys been up to? Is he not coming tonight because he'd be walking funny?"

Holt made an exasperated sound. "You're an animal. He's great. Staying at my place this week. He seems nice and relaxed."

"When's he gonna move in for good?"

Holt choked, his cheeks turning a darker grey. "I—We… haven't discussed that. It's far too soon for anything like that."

Larkin psshed , waving his free hand. "Nah. It's gonna happen, bro, so why delay the inevitable?"

Holt squirmed a little, looking uncharacteristically anxious. "He might get freaked out if I ask him to move in already."

"I don't think he would," I said.

"Me neither," Larkin eagerly agreed. "He's all mushy for you, dude. You can, like, see it. In his eyes. He looks at you like you're special or something. It's weird."

Holt huffed, glancing over at him with a wry smile. "Thank you for that almost-compliment, Lark."

"I'd obv be your best man if you get married, right? I would give such a good best man speech. I could tell everyone about you photocopying your balls at Taylor's old work."

"No, you fucking could not," Holt said quickly.

"But it's, like, a romantic little story! Or at the very least, it's hilarious. It'd get a big laugh."

"Larkin, for the love of god, please do not start talking to Taylor about best man speeches when he starts work next week. That would definitely freak him out. He'll think I'm secretly planning our nuptials."

He huffed. "Okay, fine, but I'm putting it in writing that you said you want me to be your best man. For when it does happen."

"I didn't say that. You did."

Larkin waved a hand. "You agreed, bro."

Holt spluttered. "No, I fucking didn't."

Trying not to give Larkin an affectionate look, I opened the door to the private box and stepped aside for them both to go in.

"Thanks, Seb," Holt said absently as he swept past. Larkin grinned up at me, pausing to lift Cora to my face so she could frantically lick my cheek before I had a chance to jerk my head away.

A reluctant smile tilted my mouth as he snickered and slunk into the room while kissing the top of Cora's head. I followed, shutting the door behind me and beelining straight for the couch against the back wall. I could already faintly hear the sounds of the crowd filtering into the arena below.

Holt stopped in front of the windows, hands on his hips. "Busy already tonight." I could hear the grin in his voice. "Excellent."

"So what cool new ideas does Taylor have for the club?" Larkin asked as he set Cora down beside me on the couch, then hustled over to the minifridge.

"Tonnes of new merch. Pay-per-view online. Different signature cocktails for the headliners each night."

"Oooh, that last one sounds dope. Can I have a signature cocktail too?"

Holt huffed and turned to drape himself elegantly across the couch in front of the window. "You're not a wrestler."

"I know, but I'm basically an institution here now. An important member of the team. Can mine be caramel apple vodka and cream soda?"

Holt's nose wrinkled. "That sounds vile. And that's not a cocktail. It's just a mixed drink."

"We could put a little umbrella in it. And we could call it…" Larkin thought for a moment, straightening from the fridge with two cans and a water bottle cradled to his chest. "Larkin's Fae-tastic Cocktail. No, wait—The Creamed Jeans. Because of the cream soda."

I suppressed a snort, ducking my head so Holt wouldn't see my smile.

"And Seb's should be…"

I glanced up, meeting Larkin's eyes. He stared back at me for a moment, that blush climbing up his throat.

"Something with honey in it," he said, looking away. "Like maybe… whisky and honey something. Or maybe maple syrup."

Honey and maple syrup? I liked both just fine, but I didn't think I'd ever expressed a particular love for either in front of Larkin, so I wasn't sure what had made him suggest them.

"I like honey," I offered hesitantly. "And whisky."

Holt let out an exasperated sigh as his head fell back. I'd almost forgotten he was in the room. "Alright, if we're just making cocktails for everyone, what would mine be?"

Larkin cocked his head, eyeing him as he munched on a pretzel. "Well it's gotta be dark rum and something."

"Espresso and brown sugar," I suggested quietly. Holt perked up, eyeing me with interest over the back of the couch.

"That sounds pretty good, actually." Suddenly, he looked very on board with having his own signature cocktail. "What would it be called?"

"Holt Up," Larkin blurted, looking proud of himself. "You know, instead of hold up. Like, hold up, folks, you haven't lived until you've tried the boss man's sig tail…"

Holt chuckled, turning back to look down into the arena. "I like it."

"What would mine be called?" I asked Larkin, shooting him a tiny smirk. He blushed again, fidgeting with the drinks cradled to his chest.

"How about Honeyed Edge?" he said after a pause, sounding a little hoarse. My gut clenched as his eyes darted down to my mouth. "It could have honey around the… the rim."

We stared at each other behind Holt's back, until Larkin licked his lips and glanced over at him, his cheeks flushing.

"Of the glass," he croaked. "The rim of the glass."

I swallowed, willing my dick to stay calm. "Sounds nice."

Holt seemed oblivious to the tension in the room as he stared down at his phone, no doubt texting Taylor. He glanced up when Larkin leaned over the back of the couch to pass him the bottle of water, shooting him a distracted thanks.

I cleared my throat and tilted my head toward Cora snoozing beside me on her back. "What about Cora's signature drink?"

Larkin laughed, then shocked me by coming to join me on the back couch instead of sitting with Holt so he could see the arena. He shocked me again when, instead of taking the end seat, he picked up Cora and plopped her into his lap so he could sit directly beside me.

"A shot with something that looks like a giant turd sticking out of it." He grinned at me and handed over one of the cans, our fingers brushing as I took it.

I looked down at it and smiled. "Ah, of course. Cream soda. Thanks."

"S'okay." He cracked open his own can and took a long gulp. I couldn't look away, my gut tightening as I waited for him to— "Mmm."

That fucking sound. He had to know, didn't he? Was he doing it on purpose? It didn't seem like he was. He probably didn't even realise he made that sexy little noise while we were fooling around. It wasn't like anyone could've ever told him before how fucking hot it was.

I was going to make sure I told him. In a way that didn't reveal just how much it affected me. How I would do anything to hear him make that sound.

"Gonna do a crossword?" He leaned over to set down his can on the end table, then got comfortable, long fingers stroking over the soft fur on Cora's belly.

"Uh-huh." I lifted my ass to grab the crossword book from my back pocket, catching Larkin's eyes fixed on my groin as I settled back down. He quickly raised his gaze and smiled at me, throat bobbing.

"Can I help?"

I chuckled, flipping to the crossword I was currently working on. I thought he'd get bored after a few minutes, but of course I said, "Sure."

I shifted to get comfortable, resting my ankle on the opposite knee so I could lean the book against my thigh. I tried not to think about it too hard when my knee brushed his. And he didn't move away.

"What number are you on?" He leaned closer to peer down, shoulder bumping my arm.

"Six across." My voice was a little tight. Hopefully neither he nor Holt noticed.

"Descending by mistake, seven letters." He nibbled his lower lip, staring down at it. "Um…"

"I've already got the last two letters." I pointed at the crossword. "NG. So we know it's a present participle. Like tumbling or dropping."

His eyes brightened. "Is it one of those? No, wait, seven letters. Um…"

I already knew what it was, but I stayed quiet as he stared down at the page. When he started to fidget, I suggested, "We could try and solve six down first, because that'll give us the first letter."

"Okay." His brow furrowed with concentration as he scanned the clue. "Iris, Petunia, Hyacinth, for example. Six letters." He looked up at me and made a face. "Granny names?"

I chuckled, but before I could answer, he suddenly gasped and gripped my arm.

"No, wait, I got it! They're flowers. It's flower. Finally my dad's weirdly in-depth knowledge about every fuckin' flower has come in handy."

Grinning, I held out the pencil. "Want to write it in?"

"Yeah." Beaming with pride, he took the pencil and scrawled the word in his messy handwriting, then glanced up at Holt to check he wasn't paying attention to us before whispering, "My mom calls me flower. Her little flower. It's so embarrassing."

It was actually one of the most adorable things I'd ever heard. "That's cute."

He huffed. "And sweetpea. My dad has grown this type of sweetpea in our yard ever since I was born, because the flowers are apparently the exact same shade as my hair or something. He's such a dork."

"Sounds like they aren't afraid to show you just how much they love you."

He blushed, squirming a little. "Yeah. They never tried to, like, embarrass me about it in front of my friends when I was younger though. But they're embarrassing in general, so they still managed to do it."

I chuckled. "Trust me, the older you get, the less you get embarrassed by stuff like that. Having parents who are still happily together, and who are emotionally available to their children, is nothing to be embarrassed about. It's amazing."

He gazed at me and nodded. "Yeah. I know I'm really lucky."

"So am I. My mom…" I hesitated. It was a bad idea to start sharing personal things with Larkin. It would just make me glom onto him more tightly. Still, I found myself continuing. "My mom was injured when she was a teen. Her leg was mangled in a trap in the woods. She recovered, but she had a limp after that. Which… can be an issue for some packs. Werewolves can sometimes be a little ruthless. Uh, anyway, she met my dad when they were about twenty, and they fell in love pretty much instantly, but my dad was from the strongest and oldest pack in that area, and his parents… didn't want him being with the ‘lame wolf . '"

My lip curled into a sneer. Every time I thought about this, it made me want to go to the town my parents had grown up in and beat the shit out of every member of that pack.

"So he cut contact with them, with his whole pack, and he and my mom moved to a new town and started their own. And he made sure to constantly tell me and my sisters when we were growing up that nothing could stop them from loving us. Not who we ended up being, and definitely not who we end up being with ."

"That… that's amazing," Larkin breathed. I felt heat rise in my cheeks and ducked my head, worried that I'd just overshared. "So your grandparents totally suck—on your dad's side, at least—but your parents are the nuts."

I chuckled, glancing at him. "Yeah."

He nibbled on his lower lip, gazing at me for a long moment before blinking and looking down at the crossword book. Clearing his throat, he tapped the eraser on the pencil against the page. "Okay, so six across starts with F. Descending by mistake…"

I could see his brain churning, so I sat back and waited patiently. I probably would've had half of this crossword filled out already if I'd been doing it alone, but this was infinitely better.

"Um…" He looked at me uncertainly after a minute. "Is it falling?"

I smiled. "Yeah, I think it is."

"Fuck yes." He bounced excitedly in his seat, which made Cora startle awake with a snort and wriggle off his lap to flop down beside him. "I am a crossword master, dude."

I gestured at the page. "Write it in."

As he leaned down and scribbled the word in, my thigh twitched from the pressure of his hand resting against it through the book.

"Okay, number seven…"

He went quiet, concentrating on the clue and checking to see if we already had any letters for the answer from other words. I could tell he was mulling it over as he started doodling in the corner of the page, drawing what at first looked like a daisy before he began adding more and more petals, turning it into a mandala.

He suddenly seemed to realise what he was doing, because he stopped and flushed. "Oh shit, sorry. I can erase it—"

"It's okay," I said quickly, glancing over at him with a wry smile.

He grinned back sheepishly. "I used to draw that all the time on my schoolwork. My teachers would get so pissed."

I chuckled. "It was something different when I was at school. Here…"

I took the pencil from him and quickly sketched the odd, jagged-edged S that all kids had, for some reason, doodled constantly when I was younger.

"S." Larkin looked down at it blankly. "What's it stand for?"

I shrugged. "Nothing. Was just what everyone doodled all the time. Dunno why."

He took the pencil and started adding to it. I eventually realised what he was doing—drawing an E and a B in a similar style to write my name.

"There." He handed the pencil back with a grin. "Now it stands for Seb."

Something hot and sweet pierced my chest as I managed a weak smile. I already knew I was going to rip this page out and keep it. Sad, pathetic wolf that I was.

If I hadn't already been in love with him, this would've done it.