4. The Hole In The Tiles
4
THE HOLE IN THE TILES
Jag had expected to see two or three tiles missing. Not twelve all in one spot, most of them broken into more than two pieces.
“What happened here?” he asked, mystified. “Tiles don’t usually fall off all at the same time.”
Niall made another of his choking sounds, dropping his gaze. He was red again. “S-something hit them.”
“Did you fall against the wall?”
Niall opened and closed his mouth. “Um. Yes?”
“That sounded like a lie,” Jag said quietly. “You should know that I won’t judge you. You don’t have to lie.”
In the bathroom doorway, Niall winced and fidgeted. “I—I’m just. Embarrassed.”
Because of how he fell? Or...
Did this have something to do with his ad, too?
Come to think of it, the missing patch of tile was roughly the same height as Niall’s hips.
Jag had the sudden mental image of this omega pushing his ass down a large silicone cock, his face twisted in pleasure as he tried to make himself come.
Immediately after, he knew he shouldn’t have done that. His body was responding, growing hot between his legs, and he had to swallow hard.
He washed his hands at the sink. “Looks like you’re missing grout in a few other spots, too. I can cement the tiles back, but be aware that the other walls won’t play nice if you... fell against them, too.”
Niall whined and fumbled his hood over his head, using his curved hands to claw his hood further down.
“Hey,” Jag said quietly.
“It’s not okay,” Niall cried.
He looked so small, his shoulders hunched in to protect himself, that Jag ached.
“Can I hug you?” Jag asked.
Niall froze. He peeked up from under his hood warily, like he thought maybe Jag might be lying.
Jag held his hands out, palms facing up. “You can always say no.”
“Why would you want to?”
“Doesn’t everyone like hugs?”
Niall worried his lower lip between his teeth. “What’s in it for you?”
“I like hugs,” Jag said honestly. “And I want you to feel better.”
Niall breathed in and out, weighing Jag’s answer. He inched forward a little, watching Jag, and inched forward again. Until his bare toes bumped into the toes of Jag’s work boots, and Jag parted his feet so Niall could stand between them.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” Jag murmured. “You can always pull away.”
Niall nodded, his eyes a beautiful shade of sky blue.
Jag gathered him gently into his arms, and held him flush against his chest.
Niall didn’t fit perfectly; not yet. He was so thin, mostly bones under his hoodie, and he held himself stiffly. Like he was still afraid of being touched.
“Hey,” Jag said, rubbing his back soothingly. He tightened his arms around Niall, only to have the omega shudder and go limp, leaning fully into Jag’s embrace. “There we go.”
He held Niall in silence, just breathing with him. Holding him together, keeping him safe. Niall nuzzled into Jag’s chest and drew a shuddering breath, and Jag had the fleeting thought of them lying together on a couch, legs tangled, sharing breath.
“You’re good, you’re safe,” Jag said quietly. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Niall trembled. And he pressed himself against Jag as though trying to seek shelter in his arms.
As though he felt safer in Jag’s arms than his own home.
“I—I didn’t realize I needed this so much,” Niall mumbled, his voice muffled against Jag’s bare chest. “Feels good. I... Evan hasn’t been back in two weeks.”
Evan Ingle—Troy’s alpha. Jag frowned. “He’s not being a very good brother, is he?”
Niall shook his head firmly. “No, he needs a break. He’s already spent enough of his life on me.”
“But two weeks without a visit—”
At that, Niall pulled away, scowling fiercely. “He spent years looking for me. And when I got home, he spent several hours with me every day until I felt safe. He hadn’t taken time for himself until he found Landon and Troy. He’s been doing most of the chores, cooking, cleaning; he takes me out on drives when I need it. So I’m not gonna take that time away from him. I can go two weeks without.”
Jag frowned. “Surely he’d visit just to check on you.”
“I told him that everything’s fine. He’s a dad now, he should be spending time with his family.”
Jag processed all of that. “But you’re not okay.”
Niall dropped his gaze. “I’ve been through worse.”
Jag sucked in a sharp breath. “Just because you have, doesn’t mean you need to put yourself through further discomfort.”
Niall opened his mouth like he was going to argue again. Then he blinked, and frowned. “You know this is crazy, right? Why’re we fighting when we don’t even know each other—Wait.” His eyes grew wide. “How much did Evan tell you?”
“Funny enough, I haven’t actually met him.” Jag smiled crookedly, although he couldn’t hold it for long. “Troy told me you were taken against your will and tortured for several years. And that you’ve been home for a few years now.”
Niall squinted suspiciously. “That’s all he said?”
“That’s all he said,” Jag confirmed. “I swear it on my heart.”
“Okay.” Niall relaxed, but there was still a hint of caution in his eyes.
“Is there anything else I should know?”
“Nope.” Niall shook his head quickly.
“Alright. I’ll respect that. Would you like my scent marking for your protection?”
Niall jerked his head up so fast, Jag worried that he’d hurt his neck. “You—You’d give me your scent marking?”
“Yes.” Jag tried not to think about why a scent marking sounded so right with Niall. They hadn’t even spoken for more than a few minutes.
Niall hesitated. “Evan tried to give me his at first, but after a while we realized it was pointless. You can’t smell anything on me but the vanilla. It’s too strong.”
“Let me give you my marking anyway,” Jag said softly.
Niall sucked in a slow breath, his cheeks turning red. “Okay.”
“Tell me if there’s anywhere I shouldn’t touch.”
Niall shook his head. “You can—” He cleared his throat. “You can touch me anywhere.”
Under the heavy cloud of vanilla, Jag thought he smelled the musk of arousal.
Sex scents were the same from person to person. Jag hadn’t been sure, at first, what Niall’s arousal would smell like, since his vanilla scent didn’t match up to convention—not the woodsy scents of alphas, the grassy scents of betas, or the floral scents of omegas.
Troy had told him disturbing things, about underground rings doing body modifications that gave people altered scents.
Now wasn’t the time to talk about it, though.
“I’m going to mark you,” Jag murmured.
Niall nodded and sucked in a shuddering breath.
Carefully, Jag cupped Niall’s face, brushing the scent gland on his wrist along Niall’s jaw. This would leave his own mahogany scent behind. He brushed his scent slowly over Niall’s velvety cheeks, over his forehead and the shell of his ears. Then he eased the hood back and rubbed his wrists lightly over Niall’s hair, stroking down to mark his nape, and his throat.
He dragged his wrists over Niall’s shoulders, down his arms, before pausing at his wrists. “What about your hands?”
Niall winced and pulled his hands behind his back. “Not my hands.”
“Alright.” Jag rubbed his wrists all over Niall’s back—that was the last of the polite, safe places he could leave his scent on. “There. You’re now wearing my scent.”
“I don’t know if I can smell it,” Niall said. He lifted his arm and pressed his nose to the sleeve of his hoodie, making a face.
Jag wasn’t about to put his nose on Niall to see if it worked—it was too soon for that.
Apparently, Niall had no such hesitation.
He stared at Jag’s wrist for a moment, before clumsily trying to grasp it with his own hands. Scarcely had Niall’s fingertips brushed Jag’s knuckles when he cringed and shoved his hands into his pockets.
Jag thought they’d move on to another subject.
Except Niall dropped to his knees.
In front of Jag.
Jag froze. And forgot to breathe as Niall tucked his nose against Jag’s wrist, hot puffs of breath rushing over his scent gland.
The sensation went straight to Jag’s cock; he felt it start to thicken, his bulge barely concealed by his sweatpants.
Niall didn’t seem to notice. He rubbed his nose against the sensitive spot, sniffing at it several times. Then he sniffed more deeply like he was trying to fill his lungs with Jag’s scent, and Jag’s instincts whispered to pin him against the wall, and cover him with the scent of his cock.
It didn’t stop there. Niall closed his eyes and nuzzled Jag’s wrist. Then he tilted his head and gingerly licked it.
With his soft, wet, pink tongue.
Jag was so hard, he could barely think.
“Niall,” he growled.
Niall startled, glancing up like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh, crap.” He scrambled back and hit the wall, his face completely red. “I, um. I—I forgot myself. I—I just wanted to know what you smell like.”
“My scent glands are sensitive,” Jag said, his voice completely rough. “Might want to consider that before you do anything else to me.”
He gestured at his tented sweatpants. Niall’s gaze dropped to his hips. And he made a strangled, breathless sound, his mouth falling open. “Oh, gods.”
Niall yanked his eyes away. Then he sneaked a glance back, dragging his eyes over Jag’s base to his tip, back and forth like he was trying to figure out what it looked like behind his pants. Jag grew so hard, he ached.
How long had it been since he’d slept with someone? Jag couldn’t remember. Even just the weight of Niall’s attention... It almost felt like an actual touch.
“Like I said,” Jag whispered. “If you need any help at all, just ask.”
Niall dropped his gaze immediately, squirming. “I-I need to think about it.”
“Of course.” Jag felt his precome soak into his pants. When he let himself look, he found that Niall’s pajama pants had a darkened edge, right where he was sitting on it. Had he leaked that much slick, just at the sight of Jag’s cock? Was his hole all puffy and ready to stretch around Jag, take his deep, hard thrusts?
This was the wrong time to start anything. Not on their first meeting, especially with someone as hurt as Niall had been.
Jag swallowed hard, needing to squeeze himself. He kept as much distance between them as he could, easing out of the bathroom. Niall’s eyes were still glued to his bulge.
“The shower tiles,” Jag said loudly. Niall snapped his attention back to Jag’s face. “There are more tiles that need fixing than I thought, and they’re mostly broken. That repair might take a few hours.”
“I’ll pay for it,” Niall squeaked.
Jag shook his head. “Just tell me when you’d like me to come over.”
“Um, okay.”
“Do you have somewhere else you can shower in the meantime?”
Niall nodded. “I’ve been using Evan’s bathroom.”
Well, damn it. Not that Jag wanted to invite him over to shower, or anything like that. “Sounds good.”
He made his way through the house, waiting for Niall to catch up with him at the front door. This being one of the poorer neighborhoods in Meadowfall, the houses were smaller, although Jag’s had more rooms than Niall’s did. Not that it really mattered; after so many years in prison, Jag was just happy to have his own space again.
Jag unlocked the deadbolt, glancing at the pile of books by Llain Hardcox he’d rescued from the trash can.
Niall hurried up behind him, his hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets.
“Do you have any food allergies?” Jag asked. “I can make you lunch or dinner, if you ever get tired of takeout meals.”
“You don’t have to,” Niall mumbled.
“Is there anything in particular you like?”
Niall grimaced. “You won’t like the stuff I eat.”
“Oh? Why not?”
Niall sucked his lips between his teeth, refusing to meet Jag’s gaze. It was one of the ever-growing list of mysteries that revolved around him.
“I’ll have you know, it’s more motivating to cook when I’m not just cooking for me,” Jag said dryly. “So you’ll be saving us both from TV dinners. In case you ever need a reason.”
“Okay,” Niall mumbled.
“Don’t forget; you have my number now. Use it.”
Niall glanced to the side, at the note Jag had left earlier. So many things had happened since then.
Jag stepped out of the house and gave him a friendly smile. “I’ll bring the trash can back tomorrow, when it’s empty. Don’t be surprised when you hear sounds coming from the side of your house.”
“Okay. Thank you.” Niall gave him a closed-lipped smile, fidgeting in his too-large hoodie. He was more relaxed around Jag now, with less weight on his shoulders.
That was a start.