Wesley (15 page)

“No, you are not.” Remus spoke with a quiet command that Wes couldn’t imagine anyone disobeying. While Armando didn’t answer, he also stayed where he was as Remus and Wes came over to him.

Wes knelt at the same time that Remus did. The old shaman was wrinkled and as brown as Wes’ favourite leather boots, but he was spry enough, squatting easily with none of the groaning or popping noises going on. One look at Remus’ face and Wes forgot about the old man’s bendiness. There was love shining clearly in Remus’ eyes as he looked at Armando.

Jealousy was an ugly feeling and Wes didn’t care for it at all. When he pushed past it, he could see that Remus was regarding Armando with concern and the kind of fatherly love Wes’ own dad showered his kids with. That was good. He liked knowing Armando had someone to care for him in his life. From what Sully had said, Wes hadn’t thought anyone loved Armando, but Remus clearly did.

“What happened?” Remus asked, but he didn’t seem to want an answer because he began humming and muttering to himself as his nimble hands flitted over Armando’s body from hips to head. “Oh yes, that is a bad bump, but you’re a stubborn man with a hard skull. I don’t believe there’s been any lasting damage done.” Remus smiled fully then, and it took a decade off of him, showing hints of the handsome man he must have been in his youth. “Still, I do believe it would be best if you went home, and perhaps had someone stay with you.” Remus cast a smug look his way and Wes was nodding before he even thought about it.

“I can’t go home, Remus.” Armando started to sit up and both Wes and Remus took an arm to help him. Armando huffed and scowled but didn’t pull away. “I’m not seriously injured. I can sit up on my own.” But he didn’t. Wes was kind enough not to point it out. Armando still glared at him. “My head is pounding again because of you.”

“Me?” Wes sat back on his heels. “Okay, I can see how today might have been my fault a little, but I didn’t do anything to make you—” he stopped himself, barely, from saying ‘freak out’ “—dive off the desk earlier, and I sure didn’t do anything to you yesterday or any other time. Hell, we didn’t even talk until—” Wes snapped his mouth shut but Remus was watching him and Armando’s face had turned a ruddy reddish-brown.

“Until when?” Remus purred. “Armando didn’t seem to want to share that with me last night at dinner.”

Wes choked on his own spit as he tried to come up with something to say. Armando just blushed deeper and covered his eyes with his hand. “Aw, Remus, not now…”

Remus lifted Armando’s hand up and held it gently as he pinned him with a look that made Wes want to confess every sin. “Armando—Mando.” Armando blanched and seemed to be holding his breath. “Don’t you think you’ve hidden long enough?”

Armando sniffled. “I don’t know how to do anything else.”

Wes’ heart broke as a tear leaked from the outer corner of Armando’s eye. He ached to hold Armando and ease his pain, but, despite being mates, Wes knew doing such a thing would be too much for Armando.

Remus wiped the tear away and bent to kiss Armando’s brow. “You just let it go, Mando, and trust the ones your heart tells you to trust.”

Another tear, and this one Wes caught, rubbing it between his finger and thumb. Armando didn’t even seem aware of the fact that he was crying. “I trusted my family. My mama and papa, and the rest…” Armando shook his head, grimaced, and put his hand between the bump and the floor. “Look what they did, Remus. They just threw me out like the kitchen trash. No, not even that. At least they made sure the kitchen trash was in the can with the lid. Me—Papa just told me to get the fuck out or he’d beat me until I wasn’t breathing the next time.”

The next time. Jesus, what kind of life had Armando had back then?
Wes couldn’t imagine. He’d only ever known love and acceptance from his family, even when he’d fucked up colossally.

“That’s on them,” Wes found himself saying while wiping at another tear. Armando didn’t speak but he did turn his head enough to look at Wes.

It was time to man up, and Wes knew it. He wasn’t proud of being an idiot, but he also wasn’t going to keep on being one. “My family is great, you know. Or maybe you don’t, but I figure, you knew Sully, and even though he’s a pain in the ass sometimes, he’s really a good guy. Our parents raised us right and love us no matter what.” Wes gulped and wished he could go back in time and undo the one stupid thing he couldn’t let define him. Not if he wanted to be a better person. “Even when I messed up so bad I could have ended up in prison, my parents—all of my family—stood by me. It didn’t seem that way at first, because I got shipped off here, then Remus sent me to volunteer at the shelter.”

“You didn’t want to come here,” Armando said in a gravel-rough voice.

Wes shrugged. “I guess not, no, but I didn’t know what to do. I’ve never known what to do. Sully had his life and career planned out from the time he was, like, eight.”

Armando chuckled or coughed, Wes wasn’t sure which, but he was going with the first one and it eased some of the tension he felt. “Well, it’s true. I just never found anything that felt like something I’d want as a career, and, honestly, up until a couple of months ago, all I did was work my shitty job at the gas station and play games in my room. Then one day I realised I was lonely and angry because Sully had left and had his own life. He didn’t have time for me, and, considering how much of my time I spent in my bedroom when Sully did live at home, it’s not a surprise he didn’t give me much thought.”

Wes forced himself not to look at Remus and to go on. “On top of that, I wanted someone, you know. To…to touch, and to touch me. I was lonely.” He still was, although now he had hope for him and Armando.

“Being lonely is hard on the soul.”

Armando grunted out a ‘yeah’ in agreement with Remus’ words. Then he took Wes’ hand. “What happened?”

And so Wes told him about being stupid and trying to use drugs as a coping mechanism. Talking about the drugs was easier than the part about how jealous he’d been, thinking that Sully had chosen Bobby over him, which of course he should have done. Wes totally got that now. Wes got through it all in a brief synopsis. He felt so petty afterwards, and figured he always would when he talked about it.

“You didn’t deserve to be forgotten.” Armando squeezed Wes’ hand. “I hustled, but I bet Sully told you that.”

“Yeah, and it doesn’t matter to me.” Wes wanted to slap himself immediately after he’d said that. “Wait, I mean, it matters, but not like in a bad way. I wish things had been different for you and that you didn’t have to do it, but it doesn’t change the fact that I want you.” Wes tried to shoot Remus a ‘go away’ look but the old shaman was focused on Armando.

“I can be patient, too. I know something bad happened.” He was an idiot. Armando had just talked about being disowned and beaten. Lots of bad things had happened to him. “I mean—”

“I know what you mean, Wes.”

“Oh.” Hearing his name roll off Armando’s tongue just then almost made Wes beg him for a kiss. Wes mentally chided himself to get it together. “Okay. You… You moved away from me really quick. Last night, I needed to talk to someone. Sully and Bobby, they told me a little bit, but they also said not all of it was their story to tell.”

Armando turned away then but he didn’t let go of Wes’ hand. Remus clasped Wes’ shoulder. An odd current spread out from where Remus’ touched him, and it soothed Wes even though he thought he should be weirded out by it.

“Sully and Bobby are both right, and I would not expect either of them to overstep. It is indeed Mando’s story to tell,” Remus agreed.

Armando did the oddest thing then, or so it seemed to Wes. He began to laugh. Wes looked at Remus, but the shaman was smiling as if Armando laughing was a good thing.

Just when Wes was really starting to worry, Armando stopped and looked at him. “You must think I’m nuts, huh?”

No, just very, very hurt.
Wes wouldn’t say so, but he thought Armando knew somehow, because sadness shadowed his features. “I just wish you were happy.”

Armando’s eyes filled and he still didn’t let go of Wes’ hand. “I don’t know if that’s possible anymore.” He laughed again, but there was a definite bitter sound to it this time. “Listen to me. I sound like an emo kid. And here I’m always telling the kids that it will get better. How can I peddle that line when I don’t believe it for myself?”

“Maybe you should.” Wes forgot about Remus watching him then as he caressed the contours of Armando’s cheek. “Hope is a great thing, but it can cut like the sharpest blade, or, more accurately, a dull one.”

“Huh?” Armando asked, his forehead wrinkling in his confusion.

Wes rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off feeling silly. “Well, a sharp blade doesn’t hurt, not at first, right? Sometimes you don’t even know you’ve cut yourself, but a dull blade, that’s totally different.”

Armando bobbed his head. “Yes, a dull blade hurts. It’s more of a rip than a clean slice. Yeah.” He sat up, almost squishing Wes’ hand in the process. “That’s exactly what hope can be like. When it’s crushed, and when it’s important, it can tear you up like a dull blade. Hard strikes, deliberate pain.”

Wes hooked his fingers right behind Armando’s jaw and used the slightest pressure to tip his head back. Armando’s eyes went wide then heavy-lidded with building need. His lips parted and the tip of his pink tongue darted out to wet them. Wes bent until his lips were a hair’s width from Armando’s. “But sometimes isn’t the potential reward worth the risk?” he asked just before he kissed those berry-sweet lips again.

This time, Armando clung to him with a gentle grasp instead of digging his nails into Wes’ skin. Wes shivered and moaned as he closed his eyes, licking deeply into Armando’s mouth. He fitted his arms under Armando’s back and hefted him up into his lap so he could hold him and touch as much of Armando’s fine body as possible.

Armando settled in, wiggling his butt for a second before inhaling sharply through his nose and turning on his hip. Wes just managed to avoid serious injury to his nuts by shifting his legs and rolling more onto his left side. Not once did he stop kissing Armando.

Nor did he ever want to stop. Wes’ cock had been hard since before he’d kissed Armando, and the sweet sounds Armando was making as he ardently kissed Wes back weren’t doing much for his control.

Wes dared to touch the curve of Armando’s hip. Even through his clothes, Armando felt warmer than Wes would have thought. He itched to touch Armando, to feel his skin and see if the heat came from him or if Wes imagined it. When Armando moaned and turned into him more, rubbing his cock against Wes’ belly, Wes slowly ran his thumb under the waistband of Armando’s jeans.

Soft didn’t begin to describe the texture of Armando’s skin, and yes, either his body ran hot, or he and Wes combined equalled scorching. Armando shook and squirmed and Wes dipped his hand farther beneath the waistband, seeking more of that silky skin.

Instinct kept him from reaching for Armando’s backside. Wes got his hand in and he kept it there on Armando’s hip, just petting as he sucked on Armando’s tongue. Armando moved his legs, and Wes didn’t think Armando was trying to dislodge his hand. He thought, perhaps, that Armando wanted to be touched more, but that uncertainty kept Wes from going any further.

Then he heard the sound of the door shutting and he groaned as he forced himself to end the kiss. Wes opened his eyes.

Armando was panting, heaving breaths that caused his entire body to shake. He didn’t look happy, though, glaring as he was at Wes. “Remus,” Wes offered, and Armando sat up so quickly that Wes had to flop backwards to keep from having his chin bashed by Armando’s head. Neither one of them needed that.

“Crap!” Armando looked at the door. “When did he leave?”

“Uh, I think just now.” They’d given the old guy quite a show.

Armando moaned and covered his face with his hands. “Ah, man. I’m going to be teased at dinner for sure.”

Wes’ heart fluttered but he decided to take a chance. “You could avoid that by coming over to my place and having dinner with me.”

Armando spread his fingers apart and peeked at him through them. “Yeah?” he mumbled.

“Yeah,” Wes said with a nod. “We have work to do here today. I don’t know if we can help Sue get Dyan out of that camp, but we can hopefully keep Sue and the other kids from getting arrested trying to break Dyan out. And,” Wes hated to bring it up, because it might scare Armando off. But he wasn’t willing to let any untruth exist between them. “And I need to explain what’s happening between us.”

But Armando surprised him by laughing again, although he didn’t sound totally happy when he did so. He didn’t sound miserable, either. Then he stopped and shook his head as he peeked through his long, dark lashes at Wes. “I already know that part. I haven’t lived around shifters for two years and not learned about mates. If I hadn’t been so horny earlier I’d have figured out how you knew what I was thinking about your eyes. That was the link, right?”