Marcus POV

 

December 3rd, 2026

 

It's just about nine am on Thursday, I'm just standing outside the station checking my phone. I have two hours left on this shift.

I'm not playing EMT today, so things aren't nearly as non-stop.

Holstein is cleaning one of the trucks. Proud of him for coming back, even after that little roar incident.

I glance at the wall, where a handwritten sign says, WE HAVE WENT 1 DAY WITHOUT WEIRD SHIT HAPPENING. The 1 is a sticky note.

I can't help but laugh some.

My phone dings. Hana—the girl I met while helping get some kittens out of a storm drain—has replied to me. She and I have been flirting back and forth for about a week. She keeps telling me I'll rethink my rule if I just go out with her once.

She's sweet, but that just ain't happening.

In fact, I've already decided she's fun to chat with, but I ain't taking her out somewhere just to get her hopes up.

She's sent me a picture of her lunch. She just also happens to be holding it, and it's obvious she isn't only showing off the food. Just above the plate of an artisan burger and fries is a very nice view of how low-cut her shirt is. The caption says “want a bite?”

Oh, she is a tease. Heart of gold, kitten rescuer—but a tease.

I grin and shake my head, muttering “Lord, woman…” as I remind myself that I'm not in the business of breaking hearts just for a wild night.

I send her a reply, “Aww, too bad I already ate…”

“I'm sure a big guy like you always has room for dessert.”

Damn, she knows just how to push the right buttons.

I could very much see her talking me into something more. Something sweet and sexy all at the same time.

Something that lives past the morning light…

But I already had that.

And I already know what it feels like to get your heart not just broken, but shattered.

So, no, Hana, I can't take that chance. No matter how much I can see it.

I look to my phone, thinking ‘bout what to reply to her.

That's when it hits me.

The whisper itself, I expect.

But the pain…it sends me to my knees.

I catch myself as I fall forward, vaguely realizing something crunches under one hand.

The cycle ends, and I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“Sato?! You good, man?”

Through a haze of pain, I look up at Holstein.

“Yeah…”

I lift a hand to hold my head and notice my phone stick to it some.

It falls back to the ground and the screen is nothing but shards all held together.

Well fuck.

I look up at Holstein.

“Just got a migraine… And apparently need a new phone.”

Holstein grimaces, looking at the wreckage of my phone.

“Hope it wasn't new…”

"Nah, had it a couple years.”

I get back to my feet with Holstein's help.

I continue, “Guess the universe is saying buy a new one.”

Holstein shrugs, “Bet they got some deals going. Holiday season and all.”

I give him an easy grin. My head is killing me, but I'm used to grinning through all kinds of shit.

“Yeah, hell, might get generous and buy some gifts while I'm at it.”

Holstein laughs a little. “I hear ya got a big family; don't go breaking the bank.”

“Heh, yeah. I usually buy the brothers something small. It's Mom and Dad I like to spoil some. They put up with us four for twenty-seven years.”

Holstein laughs and smiles, “My mom just had me, and I get what ya mean. I bet your mom is still worn out.”

Out of habit, I check my phone. It doesn't even light up.

Crap.

“Oh yeah, she would never say it though. Still tries to get us home any chance she gets.”

Holstein laughs a little, and Williams calls over. “Holstein, that truck is not washing itself!”

Holstein puts his hand on my shoulder. “You sure you're good, man? You went down hard.”

I shrug and laugh. “Take more than a headache to take me out, kid. Go wash that truck before Williams finds something else for you to do.”

I watch him go and close my eyes a moment as my head throbs.

Heading over to Williams, I say low.

“Hey, I need to head out early. Got something going on with my head…”

Williams nods, “Glad you volunteered; I was about to send you myself.”

I smirk, “That bad?”

“Sato, you went down like someone cut your strings. If you hadn't stayed conscious I would already have you at General.”

For once, I realize this whisper shit is getting noticeable.

Great. Now this shit's followed me into the one place I'm usually too busy to think about it.

I nod to him and turn to go.

He speaks up “See if one of your brothers can get ya, I aint letting you drive.”

“Phone is busted.”

“I got ways to get people. “

Within twenty minutes, I'm sitting next to Dad in his faded old car. He's still in uniform. Had been doing a training class today but got someone to cover for him.

“Dad, I'm fine…"

“Don't try that with me; I can see you aren't fine. And we are headed to a hospital. “

He doesn't look over. Those icy blue eyes stay on the road, but their color is the only cold part of 'em. The worry is all over his face.

“Dad, no…”

“You need cleared to drive. Until you are, your ass is riding. So pick. Hospital now, or you are bumming rides and not working.”

I glare at him.

He still doesn't look over. Just calmly drives.

I groan.

“Fine.”

I settle back into the seat like I'm thirteen and pouting.

I am sure it's a very amusing sight considering I barely fit in the seat to begin with.

“Only because I need the hours. I suddenly need a new phone…”

Dad smiles with a satisfied grin.

“Glad to see you are getting this taken care of. Without any fuss.”

I just stare out the window and watch the city go by.

I glance to the car clock.

Shit, when did the last whisper happen?

Another hasn’t happened yet…

Only a matter of time…

And I do not feel like telling my dad: BTW, all four of your sons have kept the fact that they hear things every half hour from you for six months.

We pull into the parking garage and get parked. General has probably the worst parking if you're actually trying to get to the ER. You have to make your way around the building. They've got a pull-up for drop-offs, but Dad wasn't gonna just drop me off.

Walking into the lobby, I spot a triage nurse I'd taken out to dinner a few weeks ago. Becky, I think…

She sees me and smiles politely.

“What, no patient?”

Dad steps forward, pushing me a little ahead. “Oh, I got one for ya.”

I give Becky a small smile as I reach for the clipboard she is offering. “Nothin’ serious…”

Dad cuts in, “He got off work early cause he collapsed.”

Becky gives me a look. “That’s not good for a firefighter, big boy… wouldn’t call that nothing.”

I shrug a bit and head to sit down. Glancing at a clock. Not sure why, not like I have any clue when it’s coming…

Dad stands in front of me, patting my shoulder. “Sit tight, fill out the papers. I gotta find a restroom, damn coffee...”

I’m writing down information as I say to him, “Sure, Dad, I’ll be here.”

He walks away, and I am left looking at “What is wrong today?”

Gee, let’s see. Some damn recording has been going through my head for six months, today it decided to hurt like hell and make my body forget how to move. May as well book my stay on the sixth floor with b-med.

I write down: Severe pain behind eyes, dizziness.

When did it start?

I write down: today.

I finish filling out the rest.

Then I go to stand.

Worst mistake of my life.

I swear she’s even louder this time.

I can’t help but yell out as her voice booms in my head.

I feel my knees crash onto the floor. But the pain behind my eyes drowns out any pain from them.

Next thing I know, I’m opening my eyes to someone shining a light into them.

On instinct, I try to push em away.

The doctor- oh, it’s Henson, though he’d be off work by now- chuckles a bit. “Well, there you are. Had us worried.”

I try to sit up, and he gently pushes on my shoulder to keep me down.

“Not so fast, big guy. You were out for ten minutes. We need to find out why.”

“Where’s Dad?”

Then I hear him.

“I’m here Marc, took me a little to find you, but did finally.”

I look over to him. He looks like hell. Got a goose egg on his forehead.

“What the hell happened to you?”

He shrugs.

“Didn’t eat breakfast, got dizzy.”

Ok, that tracks.

Mom is always fussing at him to eat.

I turn my attention to Dr. Henson.

“Aint you on day shift?”

He is busy typing in some orders; I am sure for way more tests than I actually want to have. He then replies, “I was almost to my car when I got a call that one of the tiger guys had collapsed. I had thought I would see Caleb on the gurney; I didn’t expect you.”

He then moves more in front of me and glances to Dad, then back to me. “And somehow I have picked up enough familiarity with you and your family; I am the default resident to deal with you. “

I laugh some and try again to get up. “Well, I appreciate ya coming back for me, but I don’t want to be the reason you have to work past your shift.”

Henson frowns at me. “Marcus, your dad says the whole reason you are here is that this happened once at work too. You can’t work with a time bomb in your head; we don’t know what it is.”

“Well I am sure another doc can run the tests. You get some rest.”

He considers a moment, moving back to the computer.

“I’ll tell you what. You do these tests for me. And I’ll have them call me when the results are in.”

“Do I have to stay while they wait on results?”

Dad speaks up. “Where the hell you think you are going?”

I shrug. “Wherever you happen to take me. I do need a phone.”

Dad gets an uncertain look in his eyes for just a moment, then says, “You should stay here. I actually probably better head home, get some food in me, now we got you secured.”

Henson nods. “That sounds like a good plan. Marcus, you stay till I release you.” he looks to Dad. “Kenji, you know well enough, you feel faint or out of it at all, pull over. We do not need this ER filled with Satos.”

I groan as Dad nods in agreement. Then he says. “I haven't told your mom or brothers yet. Figured no sense in worrying ‘em yet. Don't do anything stupid to make me regret it.”

I watch both of them walking out and I reach in my pocket for my phone.

Oh, right…

Shit.

Looks like it’s counting ceiling tiles for me.

As I wait, another round of the whisper goes through me.

I feel myself tense up as I first hear her voice.

This one isn’t nearly as bad. It hurts, but I stay conscious.

Weird.

What changed?

I don’t have time to think about it too long because the nurse comes in to start an IV.

I can’t help it; I joke. “Hey, just give me the supplies; I got this.”

The nurse, Vicky, from her badge, is an older nurse and has zero patience for some young EMT joking he will do his own IV.

She holds out a hand, and I obediently give her my arm.

I learned real quick. You don’t mess with the older ones. They give zero fucks. And you can either behave. Or behave after they put you on your ass or tie you down.

She makes quick work of me.

I almost don’t feel it as she’s already flushing the line before the small prick of the needle registers.

“Nice job.”

“You’re welcome.”

I hold still as she hooks the fluids to the line.

“What they putting in me?”

“Fluids. You are dehydrated.”

“Oh… yeah, makes sense.”

“Don’t be asking for any food though, Doc’s got you NPO till they know something.”

“Aww man… I’m starving…”

“Learn to eat before you go passing out.”

“I’ll be sure to do that. Amazing advice.”

“You be sure to. I’ll be back in a bit. Don’t mess up that line.”

I give her a thumbs up as my tail flicks my annoyance.

This is not how I expected my day to go.

Once I am out of here, I am finding a good place to eat.

My mind wanders to that burger Hana had shown me.

Ok, it wanders to the other part of that picture too.

I could go for both right now.

Ugh, get a grip, Marcus; you are in the hospital because you passed out for ten minutes.

Not the time to be hungry and horny.

I mean… what else am I going to think about?

OK, no… do not need to think more about that.

Food, I need food.

Not “dessert.”

Though it was a very nice dessert…

Ugh, I am hopeless.

For a single guy, I really think about that too much.

Oh, finally, something to get my mind off that.

They are here to take me to go get some testing done.

Awww, hell, did they have to send a good-looking one?

Oh well, means I can flirt and pass the time.

“So how long you work here? Don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

He gives me a look, and I immediately know I’ve messed up.

“Marcus, I am going to attribute it to the fact you are here cause you passed out. But we literally were on a date three weeks ago.”

Oh…crap.

I glance to his name tag.

Trent.

Oh yeah… I sang Nine Inch Nails to him because he didn’t know who they were.

“Yeah, please blame it on the apparent head injury…”

Trent motions to the wheelchair. “Sit your cute ass down and let’s pretend the last minute didn’t happen.”

I get seated, now suddenly painfully aware they had put me in a gown while I was out. So my cute striped ass is very much on display.

Oh well. Trent already knows what it looks like.

Trent releases the brakes, saying, “Keep a hold of your tail; don’t need to catch it in the wheels.”

I laugh a little and grab my tail, holding it up on my lap. I have caught it in wheels. 0/10 do not recommend.

I’ve done all these tests before.

Took me a month to accept maybe there was something doctors could actually find.

It wasn’t.

That’s what’s frustrating. I know, all these tests are just going to cost out the ass, and nothing is going to be found.

They aren’t gonna clear me for work…

Fuck.

Hours pass.

I am x-rayed. Filled with contrast and scanned. Scanned in another machine just to be sure. They draw enough blood I'm fairly sure I'm running on empty.

It's around nine thirty when they bring in the telehealth tablet.

Dr. Henson is frowning, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“So, every thirty minutes?”

I shrug. “That's what it has been, but I think it's happening closer together. “

I haven't told them it's a voice. Just pain. The pain hasn't been as bad. Though an hour ago one nearly knocked me out again.

Dr. Henson looks over some notes, then asks, “Is there anything you haven't told me? You say there's no trigger, just pain like clockwork…”

“I've told you everything that could help…”

He catches the way I say it. I see it in how his eyes narrow.

“Marcus, you know very well that absolutely anything could help. Aside from the fact that you are an EMT, you are also constantly around two medics, an ER nurse, and a dispatcher who grills people for information. You cannot claim ignorance.”

Suddenly I feel like I’m staring at my mom instead of Gregg Henson, MD.

I feel myself shrinking a little as I try very hard to think of something to say.

“Um… well, there's this sound…”

And as I am about to say it, I feel like a drowning person pulling people under with me.

“And my brothers have the same thing going on.”

Henson glares at me. “And this wasn’t the first thing you told me? You mean your brothers could be collapsing at this very moment?”

I shake my head. “Nah, it ain’t going on now. That was around ten minutes ago. Just hurt, no passing out.”

Henson puts both hands over his face, saying from behind them, “That's it… Caleb is officially on leave… and we need to call the others.”

“Now, Doc! There’s no evidence they’ve been passing out!”

“So what? We wait? Want Danny to roll another ambulance?”

I flinch at that.

I already know that fear.

Hell, I had to stand there helpless as the crew went over the side of the hill to cut him out of the damn rig.

I would have been right there next to em but they decided it was best I help topside. I knew they meant they didn’t need an emotional tiger guy trying to rip an ambulance open with his bare hands.

Then the real kicker: I saw the coal truck driver up and walking, no staggering. I thought he was hurt at first. Then the stench hit my nose.

Yeah, I almost got arrested that day.

I don’t have an answer for Henson.

He continues.

“At this time, I can’t clear you for work. I won’t make you stay here but you are forbidden from driving or being on duty.”

“How long?”

“Till we have answers.”

“There ain’t no damn answers…”

“We will reevaluate you in twenty-four hours. I’ve already been in contact with your primary care. They will be expecting you at four pm tomorrow.”

A nurse hands me my clothes.

I glare at the screen holding Henson inside it. I can feel the pissed-off rumble in my chest, but there’s no real place for it to go.

Henson is protecting not only us, but the people we could possibly hurt just by losing control on the job.

I could be mad at myself for pulling my brothers in.

But the idea of Danny in another wreck…

The screen goes dark. I am sure Henson said bye, I just wasn’t listening.

I get dressed, check that my wallet didn’t disappear, and take my discharge papers with a grunt.

I walk out of the ER lobby and let the cool evening air blow past me. I close my eyes a moment, then sigh.

I do not want to head home. I am about to be greeted by three very pissed-off brothers.

I catch the scent of some restaurant down the road; my stomach grumbles.

Yep, seems a perfectly reasonable next step. I’ll face the brothers later.

The cool December air makes me shove my hands in my jacket pockets. It ain't nearly as cold as I remember growing up, but it's still damn cold if you're in it long enough. My breath puffs in front of me as I make my way down the street. SStill a few cars on the road, but the sidewalks are empty along this little stretch. All that’s really around is the main post office and a tire repair place. Both long closed. Few other buildings, but all offices.

I reach for my phone on reflex as I am walking.

Shit.

No phone place is gonna be open now. Have to take care of that in the morning. All the better, means I don’t have to answer the angry calls and texts from my brothers.

I notice the old movie theater across the way. Not anything like what most probably think, it looks more like a parking garage than a theater. Closed not long ago. But before that I saw plenty of movies in it. Much easier to get to than the one up Southridge, even if the other was newer as far as seating an such.

Real shame it closed down.

I turn to my left, heading down what I think is Capitol street. Nice little pizza and beer place down this way.

Except this ain’t Capitol.

For a moment I smell iron.

Beside me is a sight I'll never erase from my mind.

Thin and delicate-looking. Dressed in something way too fancy for this part of town. And covered in blood.

She turns to me like she did that night.

Those eyes…

No, not eyes. Black, wet pits of darkness.

That night I had asked, “Ma’am, you ok?”

She had replied, “Lovely night for a walk.”

She vanishes like she did that night. Here one moment. Gone the next.

I feel my nails biting into my palms, the pain helping pull me back to reality.

Iron is replaced by exhaust and dumpsters that are due to be emptied. I prefer the dumpsters in this moment.

I know what’s to my right as I keep walking. I’ve avoided looking at them damn statues for almost seven years now.

Three men looking like they are floating or some shit. I’m sure it’s got some grand artistic meaning behind it. For me, they bore witness to the worst night of my life.

I aint used to walking the streets of Charleston, ‘least not very far. Even driving I find ways not to come down this section of Summers st. I aint got reason to go to some damn bank with stupid statues anyway.

I don't look. Don't need to. I know exactly where every damn one of 'em stands.

And I know if I look at em, I’ll see Angela.

And what was under her at the base of those statues.

I feel the growl stirring inside me and swallow it down.

My tail flicks anxiously as I quicken my steps.

My work boots scraping over the fancy red bricks Charleston likes putting in the parts where they want people to take pictures of.

I gotta head down Lee to get back over to Capitol. I’d missed it by just one turn-off.

As I get closer, the array of restaurants along this stretch offer their enticing scents. But the one I had in mind was the closest.

Crust and Craft wasn’t overly fancy, but still nice and just the kind of casual I was in the mood for.

There’s still a few people inside as I walk in. The familiar scents of flour, baking pizza and all the other little things under them blow against me as I enter the door.

A pretty blonde girl I've seen here a few times greets me. “Well hey stranger, no arm candy tonight?”

I laugh a little as I make my way to the bar “Nah, long day, starving and really can use a beer.”

She walks over closer on her side of the bar. Her name tag says Stacie. Yeah, I keep wanting to ask her if her mom has got it going on.

Though I have a feelin she aint nearly as into old music as I am.

She leans over, flirty as always, she’s good at her job. “Well then hot stuff, we better get you fed, want your usual?”

I grin as I lean more towards her. “Sure, put plenty of meat on it. I think I could eat the whole damn kitchen at this point.”

She playfully taps her finger on the tip of my nose as she turns to go. “You got it. And I’ll get you a couple beers poured, you look thirsty.”

I lean back a little on the stool, admiring her as she walks away.

I'm not a creep, but hey—a little admiration, then looking somewhere else, isn't a crime.

It’s that looking somewhere else I see who all is around.

There's a young couple snuggled in a booth, feeding each other bites of topping picked off the half-eaten pizza in front of em.

A few guys who are animatedly talking and seem to be planning something, judging by all the notebooks scattered between beers and plates.

Some guy on the other end of the bar; he’s nursing a beer and looking at his phone.

Not too busy, but that’s fine. I know they keep this place open as long as someone is buying, and who knows, I might be buyin’ a long time tonight. I got some things I might just see if I can wash away a bit.

Eh, who am I kiddin’. I am very sure if I came home plastered my brothers and parents would definitely kill me after being in the hospital all day.

Stacie sits two large glasses in front of me. Ok, a couple won’t hurt.

I smile to her, picking one up. “Thanks Darlin’” giving her a little toast, then taking probably far too big a drink on an empty stomach, but I’ll be filling it soon enough.

She grins “Take it easy big guy, you are far too big for me to carry out of here. Might have to get Frenchie over there to help” she nods over to the man at the end. He hears her and looks up, chuckling.

“Volunteering me and we haven’t even been introduced?”

Stacie grins and points to me. “Frenchie, meet Hot Stuff. He's a firefighter who, if you scratch behind his ear, purrs.” Then she looks to me. “Hot Stuff, meet Frenchie; he will talk your ear off about all sorts of shit.” she nods, then says, “Now you know each other. All fixed.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “I do not purr.”

Stacie had already turned to clean something and just replies, “Bullshit, I have heard you plenty of times.” without looking back.

I look to Frenchie and shrug a little with a smile. He’s taking a drink of his beer and has an amused look on his face.

After a moment, he glances behind me. Ah, yep, my costar has made enough movement to catch attention. Now we see just how this interaction is gonna go.

Be a shame he gets scared away. He ain’t half bad lookin’.

I speak up before he can say anything.

“You should see the stripes. They ain't just on my neck.”

I watch his reaction and am a little surprised when he gets up. I watch him, expecting him to move further away, but he sits next to me and grins as he leans over a little. “Well, now you have my attention, these stripes…” he looks at my neck, and his eyes travel down my chest. I’ve still got my heavy jacket on, along with my work shirt, so all that’s visible is my neck. He continues, “They are tattoos?”

To drive home my point, I flick my tail so it brushes his leg. “All natural,” grinning so my teeth show. “All of me is.”

He looks into my eyes. They probably look mostly human in this low light. He leans a little closer. “That is very interesting. I have seen many types of people in my travels. But how does a man such as yourself end up in a place like this?”

I take a drink of my beer and grin “Oh, I am a native. Grew up in a holler not far from here. Real question, what’s a guy like you doin’ here?”

Frenchie smiles and shrugs a little, drinking down what was left of his drink. Stacie is already sitting another in front of him.

“Oh, I am in town for a job. Boring work, really.”

Stacie speaks up. “Yeah, must be. You are in here damn near every day.”

He shrugs again. “It is close to my hotel; it works well.”

Charleston has like four hotels. The closest one is on the boulevard, two blocks over. I know it cause I’ve went and had to clear the building after someone sets off the smoke detectors far too often.

I look him over a little closer. Ok, I take back the ain’t half bad. Closer up, damn, he might not have cat eyes, but his have somethin' about them. Grey. Thought they were darker from across the bar, but up close they're hard to look away from.

He looks back at me and grins. “So you still live…did you say Hollow?”

I grin and laugh, bumping my knee against his “Holler, that’s how you know a real country boy.”

He moves his leg against mine. “Boy?” he looks me over again. “I would say you have graduated to man, quite nicely too.”

At this, I slide my jacket off, ‘cause I have never been one to miss an opportunity to show off the benefits of the job. My work shirt is short-sleeved, so my arm is nice and displayed as I flex for him. Years of hauling heavy-ass gear and hoses, plus lifting weights when I'm bored, means my arms—hell, all of me—are sculpted and thick.

“I don’t know, you think so?”

Frenchie doesn’t hesitate. He puts his hand on my bicep and caresses over it, letting his fingers trace along the stripes that cover it. He looks into my eyes.

“Oh, I very much think so.”

It’s that moment Stacie sits the pizza down in front of us. “Sorry to interrupt, should I get this to go?”

Laughing, I say to her, “I am far too hungry to wait any longer.” Looking at him with a grin. “Want some?”

He has reached for his drink again but smiles at me. “I’d love some. Perhaps some pizza too.”

I am about to reply when I hear her.

Fucking whisper.

I grab my beer and gulp it down, hoping like hell that somehow dulls anything that might happen.

I notice Frenchie turns away, maybe checking his phone or something.

It hurts like hell this time. But I am still awake, though really starting to feel that little fuzzy feeling that comes with drinking.

I look back at him. He chuckles some. “Was it that bad you need more drink? I didn’t mean to be too forward.”

I motion to Stacie whose greeting another couple who have walked in. She nods to me. Then I look back at him. I move a hand to trace a finger down his neck just a little. “Oh, you are fine; you ain’t gonna scare me. Just a little headache I’m tryin’ to kill.'“

He moves his hand to catch mine, holding it in place a moment and grins. “Well, that is good to know. I am enjoying our conversation so far. So tell me. What made you decide running towards danger was a smart idea?”

I move my hand away from his neck, but let it brush along his arm as I move it back to my side. “Oh, it ain’t the danger really. It’s helpin’ people. Just usually it ain’t the people in safe places that need help.”

Stacie sets another beer in front of me. And nudges a couple plates our way. “Eat, you two, I need a ratio of food to beer before I give more.”

I serve a couple slices to Frenchie, then get a couple myself; the overloaded meat drops a few pieces as I move it. My mouth is already watering just from the heavenly aroma of the various types of meat.

He watches me, then says. “Why help?”

This time I laugh, openly amused.

I lean close to him and grin, looking into his eyes. Damn, the light hits 'em nice. Grey, but not flat—lighter near the center and darker around the edges.

“There ain’t a time I’m not gonna help people. My mom and dad raised me an’ my brothers to always be the ones who help, no matter what.”

OK, maybe the beer is hitting me a bit more than I planned.

I lean back over to my side and start eating. The taste does not disappoint. Greasy and meaty with just enough spices. Pure heaven after not eating all damn day.

Frenchie picks up his own slice, seeming to think a moment before saying. “In a world of people always concerned for themselves, your outlook is refreshing, if not surprising.” Then he takes a bite.

I take a moment to finish the big bite I had taken, then look at him a little confused.

“Why surprising? I’m a firefighter; we help people.”

He shrugs. “If you look at many, they are in it for the heroics, the thrill. A man like you seems like you would have quite the craving for adrenaline.”

I chuckle. “Oh, the job is plenty exciting. But I prefer my excitement in ways that normally might not get me in an er. Though there have been some interesting occasions that was a possibility…” I continue eating.

I can see the questions behind his way too pretty eyes, but he seems to be considering does he really want to ask em. Finally he says, “So you have a regular partner in crime for those adventures?” As his hand moves over to lightly brush against my thigh, not a full touch, an invitation.

I grin and let my tail flick so it wraps around his calf.

“No one regular. I don’t do that…”

Stacie of course has to speak up. “I ain't seen the same person twice. Well, 'cept his brothers, but they don't count.”

I give Stacie a look. “They very much do not count.”

Frenchie laughs, damn, he’s even got a good laugh.

“So how many brothers you have? They all as…” he looks down to my tail that's still resting around his leg, then back up to me. “Interesting as you?”

I finish one slice and use a napkin to wipe my hand, then let that same hand find its way to his thigh. I ain’t inviting; I’m making my point clear. “Oh, they have stripes and tails, but they are not nearly as interesting.”

He moves his hand to caress over mine. I notice the slightest hesitation, but it's quickly forgotten.

“You only answered half my question.”

I have to think a moment, then realize, yep, I went right over that part.

“Oh, there's four of us. Quads. My poor mom said she got as many as she wanted—no more after us.”

He laughs a little. “I have just the one daughter. I feel for your mother.”

Oh, that’s interesting. Why didn’t I imagine he might have kids? He’s about my age; kids are a possibility. Then again, he’s over here flirting with me, so I guess I just thought he just liked guys.

“Oh? How old?”

He smiles warmly, like the thought of her automatically puts it on his lips.

“Oh, she is nine. She is my world other than my work.”

I watch him as he talks, and probably pay far too much attention to his lips. He’s got one of those mustaches that ain’t really full, but it’s black like the rest of his hair, so it stands out. His beard looks more like he's forgotten to shave for a few days than something he's intentionally grown out. Add that in with his long black hair pulled back, Damn, apparently I get to sample the mysterious French guy package.

He notices me looking him over; those lips curl in a smile that means trouble. But he continues, “Yourself? Do you have children, perhaps?’

Damn, I always hate that fucken question.

So I grin and squeeze his thigh a little, leaning closer so he can feel my breath on his neck. “Nah. Well, at least none I know of. I like the practicing part, though.”

He pulls away a little. Shit, I pushed too hard.

He reaches for his beer, half gone, and drinks it down.

Next thing I know, he’s pulled me close again, and I now know what those lips feel like.

They are pressed against mine. I hold still a moment. I let him lead.

He sucks softly on my bottom lip and that’s all I need.

I move my hand to grip his hair, just enough to pull him close. I kiss him back, the feel of his mustache giving that roughness that always makes guys such a different experience compared to women.

He hums against my lips, his hand moving to my waist, holding onto me.

I’m lost in learning the shape of his lips when I hear Stacie. “Hey, guys, might wanna eat—or I can finally get that box for ya.”

We pull away, both a little breathless. Oh yeah, the beer has definitely made things a lot less complicated to think about. And apparently I'm making out with a guy right in front of Stacie. Not the first time. Still, I usually know someone at least an hour before I'm learning what they taste like.

And well crap, I am pretty sure his name ain’t Frenchie.

I grab my second slice and take a few bites. He is suddenly very interested in his food too.

After a few moments of us getting more food into our systems I say.

“By the way, I’m Marcus.”

He chuckles some and turns, offering his hand “I am Lucien. pleasure to meet you.”

I grin. “Oh, I can tell.”

I shake his hand, nice and polite. Then turn and get my glass. Apparently, I have satisfied the pizza-to-beer ratio; Stacie has refilled it. I hold it up, offering a toast to him.

“To making new and interesting friends.”

He smiles and raises his own glass, also refilled. “Oui, to very interesting friends and getting to know them even more.” He winks with a grin before taking a long drink. I drink my own and can’t help but watch his throat as he tips his head back.

Damn, I want to know what that part tastes like too.

Stacie wanders over wiping the counter. “Hot Stuff, your truck parked where it ain't getting a ticket? 'Cause you are getting a ride home tonight.”

Oh yeah, my truck…

“Oh it’s fine Stace, parked back at the station.”

“That’s a long ass walk…”

I pick up another slice and shrug. “Like I said, long-ass day. Spent it in the hospital getting put on medical leave for some stupid shit.”

I can tell I said the wrong thing as Stacie’s eyes narrow. “You got something wrong? Am I gonna regret serving you alcohol?”

Lucien seems concerned too, leaning over in a more concerned way than interest.

“Oh nah, I’m all good. Can’t find a damn thing wrong with me, but passin’ out without something wrong also gets ya on leave.”

Stacie still looks at me skeptically, but then shrugs “Well you get to feeling faint, you tell someone. I aint cuttin’ you off yet, but I’m watching you.’

Lucien chuckles some, “Perhaps it would be safer if someone took you home, made sure you got there.”

I had taken a bite but grin between chewing. My tail finds its way back around his leg.

He smiles as he eats as well.

We spend a moment in quiet. Then I say. “You got work tomorrow?”

He shrugs “Ah, non. I had a little accident today, and they told me to rest a couple of days.” He puts his hand over his other arm. He’s wearing a jacket, so I can’t see anything, but I’m guessing his arm is hurt.

“Ah, what happened?” Yep, even tipsy I can’t stop at least checking on people, Danny and Caleb are converting me slowly.

He shrugs, “Oh just a little incident with a knife. Nothing of importance. Just one of the hazards of my work.”

I shift a little on my stool. Giving myself a moment to look him over more. He’s in dark jeans looks like, boots that look worn, but not heavy work boots, more fashion trying to be work boots. His shirt is a dark knit; the buttons at the neck are undone, showing just enough of his chest. I find myself thinking what he's gonna look like shirtless. But I have no idea what kind of work he might do requiring knives… chef maybe?

“You some kind of international chef?”

He chuckles and grins, leaning near me again.

“It's the accent that gives me away, isn't it?”

I lean to meet him. There is barely space between our faces as I say. “You are the first French guy I've met. Gotta say, you got me wanting to know more.”

He moves so our lips brush just a moment then pulls away with a grin. He reaches into his jacket pulling out a credit card.

I glance at it just enough to see the name Lucien Moreau printed on it.

He's offering it to Stacie. “Please, cover Mr. Sato's bill as well.'“

Wait a sec, I only said my first name…

“Hey, how you know my last name?”

He pauses a moment, then looks to my chest and places a hand over the printed ‘Sato’ on my work shirt. Ah yeah, that was a stupid question.

Stacie sits a to-go box on the bar; I grab the leftover half of the pizza and drink down the rest of my beer. Lucien signs the receipt, then takes out his phone. “Tell me your address; I will get us a car.”

I go to get my phone out; I can pay for the damn taxi.

Oh wait, no, I can't.

I sigh and tell him the address.

He puts it into the app then stands holding out a hand. “We are in luck, one is near.”

I turn to Stacie and nod to her.

She gives a little wave. “Y'all be safe. Have fun”

I stand and have to steady myself just a little, but cover it by putting an arm around Lucien. He's not short, but he ain't as tall as I am. My arm fits nicely around his shoulders.

I'm about to walk out when he mentions. “It's cold out, don't forget your coat.”

Ah, right.

Coat on and food in hand I put my arm back around him and we head outside.

The car arrives, nondescript but has the little neon sign that declares it’s from the company. There's a little unlit sign beside it for the rival company.

Lucien confirms we are who the driver is looking for, then I open the door for him.

We get in and I barely have time to close the door before he's pulling me over to his side of the seat.

The scent of the leather seats mixes with his—something woodsy with what seems like cinnamon.

My hands tangle into his hair as I hold him close, biting softly at his lips and letting him bite me back.

I feel the rumbling in my chest almost instantly.

He chuckles, pulling back from the kiss enough to say, “So you do purr…”

My answer is to press my tongue past his lips, purring louder.

He sucks on my tongue and lets out his own human version of a purr.

Fuck, I could kiss this guy all damn night.

His hand roams up my thigh, and I'm suddenly much more aware of how much I really don’t want to be wearing pants right now.

His hand moves further up, and I playfully growl.

“Careful Frenchie, you might not make it inside if you keep playing like that.”

He adds pressure to his teasing, making me purr and growl louder at the same time.

I move my own hand to tease him the same, and find he’s very much into things too. And from what I can feel, I am going to have a very full mouth soon.

Good, I like a challenge.

He's gonna have his own challenge dealing with me.

I hear the driver clear his throat loudly, then say “Pulling up now, guys. I'd say have a good night, but you seem well on your way.”

I laugh some and look out the front, seeing the loft parking lot coming up.

“Sorry, man. Little carried away…”

He waves his hand as I hear Lucien laughing, his hand still making it very hard not to just push him against a wall before we go inside.

“No problem, there's been worse things.”

The car pulls to a stop by the entrance. A nice little secure door; only residents can get in. There's like six other floors with apartments. We got the top floor.

I grab the take-out box as I slide back over to open the door. Lucien follows me. The driver gives a wave and drives away.

Out of habit, I take inventory of cars. Then I remember, shit, they can’t drive cause of me.

On cue, the damn voice does her cycle.

More pain, but I stay upright.

For a moment I think I hear Lucien say something, but when I look to him, he's got his eyes closed like he's hurting too.

Weird.

But then he looks at me and smiles a very wicked smile.

“We going inside or you going to just scandalize the neighborhood?”

I wrap my arm around his shoulders again, handing him the pizza so I can type in my code.

Damn, feels too natural holding him like this.

We make it inside and we both eye the stairs or elevator.

We look to each other and agree at the same time.

“Nope, not doing stairs tonight. “

Which the elevator gives us another moment of wandering hands and this time I lean and bite at his neck. I'm always careful. Accidentally biting too hard once was enough for a lifetime. Ange just laughed at me when I realized how badly my sharper teeth broke skin. She claimed it was hot. I still can't let myself get too carried away.

I know exactly how much pressure to use—enough to make his knees weak without hurting him.

He grips onto my shoulders steadying himself and moans low.

Fuck, pure music.

I want to hear more.

The elevator opens before I can get a second performance, but this is just the opening act.

I guide him down the hall. My hand playfully squeezing his ass.

He reaches over and pets along my tail.

I have to pause a moment as I compose myself, fuck I love it when someone does that.

He grins, clearly making note of my reaction, and continues petting.

This time I push him against those fancy river stones we installed along the wall.

I kiss him hard and deep. Tasting him and licking at his tongue. My hips press firmly against his, letting him feel more of how bad I want him.

He returns the pressure, grinding his hips against mine in a way that makes me want to rip those dark jeans off him.

Instead I pull away and grin.

“Behave some, Frenchie. We gotta make it to my room first.”

He smirks as he pushes off the wall. The take-out box a bit squished from his holding onto it.

“Who says we need your room?”

I pull my keys out as we reach the door, looking to him.

“I promised my brothers no sex in the common areas.”

“Oh? They live with you?”

He's got a little panic in his eyes so I pull him close.

“Don't worry, they are used to me having dates, and they are cool about me bringing home guys too. No judgment “

He still looks worried but smiles and says. “Perhaps we get lucky and make it to your room without introduction.”

I grin and unlock the door. “That’s the plan. “

I notice immediately the place is quiet.

Weird, they can’t drive. Where are they?

Danny might finally be getting lucky and Samantha decided to actually fuck her boyfriend.

But Caleb and Noah should be here.

Lucien is still outside so I pull him in.

“Relax, looks like we got the place to ourselves.” I lean and nip at his neck playfully. “Means I can make you nice and loud.”

He laughs and moves more inside, placing the pizza on the counter. The box still doing its best to be called a box. “Oh, I think I'll have you even louder.” His hand moves to the front of my pants as he pulls me into another kiss.

I move my hands to lift him up and carry him to my room. He wraps his legs around me and grips my shoulders, still kissing me.

I'm not entirely sure who got louder.

We both end up catching our breath a few times during the night. Hell, didn't know I could do that so many times. Apparently, he can too. And even after our bodies were waving white flags, our hands and mouths keep roaming.

I have been careful of his bandaged arm; the dressing looks good, but I can smell it's about due for a change. I'll fix him up when we wake up.

Something that comes to mind, though—I've seen, hell, kissed every inch of this man, but the only scar I could find is a hell of a one across his chest. Well across it. Looks like a seatbelt injury, but this one looks like it went deep.

As I'm laying here, one arm around him as he's still letting his breathing even out, my tail flicking lazily beside me I say. “I half expected you to have tattoos.”

He pauses for a moment then says. “I had them removed. But yes, I had some. “

“Why you remove em?”

He moves to kiss over my chest, tracing one of the stripes.

“Was another life. They no longer fit the me on the other side.”

Yeah. I know about being on the other side of things…

“I always thought about getting some ink. But figured the stripes already take a lot of real estate.”

He smiles and moves a hand to trace over my heart. The stripes only come down half of my pecs. He says. “You still have spaces you could add something you choose.”

I reach to take his hand, bringing it to my lips, kissing his fingers as I look at him.

“Will have to see about that. And maybe you can find something that fits you on this side of whatever it was that changed you.”

He leans to kiss my lips. Slow and tender.

Why does this feel perfectly fine…

I ain't tipsy anymore.

Tired as hell, but clear headed.

And I'm actually thinking I don't want this night to end.

I move my hand to rub along his back, just enjoying the feel of him. A movement I was so used to years ago, holding someone I didn't want to let go.

His fingers trace along my stripes. I've been purring off and on the whole night; now it's just a low rumble.

He keeps tracing the stripes, soft and almost reverent. “Marcus Sato, you have no idea how much you've thrown me off.”

“Oh, and how’s that?”

He pauses a moment, chuckling some. “Well, you are perhaps the first man I’ve gone home with after only a short time.”

I chuckle. “I’ve got that effect on people.”

He leans in to kiss along my chest. “That you do.”

I keep rubbing his back, letting my eyes close and just enjoy the moment.

“How long you in town for?”

Shit, why the hell I ask that?

“Oh..I do not have a concrete date. They tell me each day if I am still needed.”

“Sounds rough, especially with a kid.”

“Oh, she travels with me, she is with… the nanny.”

“Damn, must pay well you can afford a nanny.”

“It is enough to survive.” He looks around the room some. It ain’t much: nice, comfortable, big bed. A nice set of dressers that mom gave me ages ago. Lots of old photos and crap covering the walls and surfaces.

“You have a very cozy home. It feels lived in. I miss that, compared to a hotel.”

“You been in town long?”

“ A few weeks; I was in Ohio before that for several weeks. And before that I was in Australia.”

“Well damn, you get around.”

He chuckles and nuzzles his face against my neck. I don’t mind this at all. Feels good, feels right.

“It has been my life for several years now. Since Nia was around four. She has known nothing really but the road. “

“Nia… that's pretty. It short for something?”

“Yes, Titania. It is my belief she will grow into, if not a queen of fairies, a strong, confident woman nonetheless.”

I smile, picturing a small feminine version of Lucien, I can very much picture her being already confident and probably quite happy to tell you she’s named after a queen.
“I almost had a son, we were gonna name him Ridge. It’s not fancy, but I wanted something tying him to home.”

I ain’t said that name in almost seven years…

Fuck.

I feel the tears trying to make an appearance. I fight 'em and pull Lucien tighter against me.

He holds onto me a moment. No words. Then says.

“A good, strong name. I am sure he would have been like his father, a good man with a good heart.”

I rub his back more.

“Yeah… anything good would've come from his mom.”

He moves to put a hand on my cheek, turning my face to him. I look into his eyes.

“Marcus, you yourself told me you help people no matter what. To me, that is the best a man can strive to do.”

He presses his lips to mine. Not even really a kiss. Just holding them there and letting the moment be. His scent, the feel of him—damn, I don't want to let him go.

He lays his head on my chest, and I run my fingers through his now messy long hair.

I am about to drift to sleep when yet again the whisper hits.

I try real hard not to react; I don't need to explain things to him.

I must have failed; I feel his arm tighten around me. Then as “obey” hits, I can feel him tighten his jaw, the movement clear against my chest.

I gotta be imagining that or dreaming.

I'm too tired to think of that right now.