Rue pulled into his half of the driveway, hitting the buttons to open the garage door, roll up his window, unlock the car, and then close the garage door behind him in a quick, flawless, well-practiced sequence.

The box on the passenger seat beside him was exuding thick savory smells, and his stomach growled. Rue grimaced, sliding out from under the steering wheel and going around to the other side of the car. He'd forgotten to eat lunch, and he was pretty sure that he'd only had coffee for breakfast. Actually, he was certain of it, because the pastry that Cal had shoved at him on his way out the door had been filled with custard, which he couldn't stand.

Rue grabbed his briefcase, slinging it over his shoulder by the strap that he barely ever used but had known before leaving the office that he was going to need today. He hefted the box in both hands, bumping the car door closed with one hip. Charlie Rose, at the diner Cal and Rue often stopped by on their way home to pick up dinner, always put their orders in a box rather than a bunch of bags, and for this Rue was grateful. It made getting their dinner inside that much easier, with less chance of the dishes being damaged. Cal tended to get careless and squeeze to-go cartons harder than they could withstand, resulting in disappointment and messy meals.

Rue was the first one home, his Wards informed him, and so he balanced the weighty box on one arm as he unlocked the door that led from the three car garage into the utility room. Making it through into the house proper was something of a challenge; Cal and Jayce were working on something mechanical, and parts and tools were scattered over the concrete floor, somehow everything seeming to be underfoot in that infuriating way that inanimate objects had. There were also three hampers, two piled with dirty clothing, and an empty one before the washing machine. Rue made a mental note to come out here and get the laundry done some time soon, before he discovered that Jayce was out of school clothes, or Cal had no more clean socks.

Once he had made it into the kitchen Rue set the box containing dinner on the table, cracking it open and grabbing a cheese roll to munch while he took his briefcase into the den and setting it on his desk. He hoped that Cal wouldn't be too late getting home with Jayce -- he was really a little surprised that they weren't already here.

As though the thought had given the web of life a nudge, Rue's cell phone sounded. Quickly swallowing the last of the roll, Rue flipped it open, making his way back to the kitchen.

"Hey, Jess," he said, holding the phone to his ear with his left hand and lifting cartons out of box with the other, setting them on the table. "What's up?"

"Hiya, honey!" Jess sounded like she was in a good mood, but there was already a note of apology in her voice that made Rue a little wary. "I'm late calling you; have you already picked up dinner?"

"Uh, yeah." Rue could feel his brow creasing in a faint frown as he surveyed the meal he had brought home. With a part-demon lover and a growing six year old son who shared his father's appetite among other traits, Rue had made sure to get a lot. Suddenly, he had the sinking feeling that he shouldn't have.

"Shit!" Jess was definitely apologetic now. "Sorry, Rue. Cal got stuck at work late and since he knew you were starting a new case today, he called Ryan and me. We've already picked Jayce up from school and fed him, and now we're headed for the arcade."

Rue grimaced, but it was hardly Jess' fault. Or Cal's. He had begun a new assignment this afternoon and wouldn't have welcomed any domestic interruptions. He had no problem with his neighbors and closest friends taking care of his son -- they did so often enough -- and while he wasn't happy that he had brought home a bunch of unnecessary food, at least this meant that he wouldn't have to wait to eat. And he could just stick everything he didn't eat himself in the refrigerator for later.

"That's all right," he replied, moving to grab a wineglass and some wine. He'd brought home beef, and so he chose a nice dry red. "Did Cal tell you when he'd be home?"

"He just said he'd be out past Jayce's bedtime," Jess informed him. It sounded as though she was in a car; Rue could hear Ryan and Jayce talking, the faint tinkling of music, and beneath it all the rush of an engine. "He suggested we keep your boy overnight. What's your thought on that?"

Rue sipped at his wine, then got down a plate. Cal didn't usually have ulterior motives. If he was working late and knew that Rue would be starting on an important case today, he had probably asked Jess and Ryan to watch Jayce for those reasons alone.

"Do you mind?" he asked Jess, knowing that as much as the two loved his son, he couldn't just assume that they were going to cheerfully play baby-sitters with little notice.

"I wouldn't have mentioned it if we minded," Jess assured him. "Anyway, it's Friday night and this way we don't have to worry about how late we stay out. There's a concert starting at ten that Ryan wants to take Jayce to. He might not stay awake through the whole thing, but that way you won't have to wait up until after one for us to get him home."

Rue thought privately that he might still be awake at one a.m. -- he had a lot of work to do, and it didn't matter to him or to the job that it was now officially the weekend -- but he agreed with all of Jess' points.

"That sounds great," he let her know, pouring more wine and then grabbing a large slotted spoon to dig into his dinner; a solitary meal, he had now discovered. The first carton he opened sent up a cloud of beef and mushroom scented steam. Rosey's wasn't exactly fine dining, but it was one of the best restaurants in the area, and had perfectly reasonable prices. Rosey's generally didn't do take-out, but the owner liked Cal and Rue and adored Jayce, so exceptions were gladly made; especially since they always called ahead by a few hours.

"Great!" Jess spoke over the sound of Ryan and Jayce laughing loudly. Rue felt lonely and a little abandoned in the empty house, but he was glad that his son was having a good time. "And don't worry, I'll keep Jayce out of trouble." She paused a moment and Rue could hear Ryan say something, though he couldn't make out the words. "No, you're on your own," Jess said, obviously speaking to her partner.

"I don't know," Rue said, his mouth quirking, wondering whether he was so amused because the wine was going straight to his head, or if it really was that funny. "I think Ryan's more likely to get into mischief than Jayce."

"Oh, I'm not arguing that," Jess informed him, her voice warm with a small chuckle. "But I can't keep an eye on both of them, and Ryan's an adult. He can deal with his own messes."

"In theory, at least," Rue said, ladling himself up some stroganoff. The garlic mashed potatoes were calling his name also, and he was going to dig into the rolls again as soon as his plate was full. "Thanks, Jess. Call me if you need me."

"Will do," she responded cheerfully. "Oops, we're here! Catcha later!"

"Have fun," Rue instructed, lifting the lid and inhaling the scent of the potatoes. He knew that he could ask to speak to Jayce, but he didn't really have anything to say to his son and it would only have delayed Jayce's assault on the arcade. Rue already missed the boy he had adopted as his own when he had been one year old, but he was no clingy parent. Or at least he tried his hardest not to be. And he knew that Jayce would be perfectly safe with Jess and Ryan. They were both Orion operatives, were sculpted of nothing but hard muscle and pure skill, and both of them had known Jayce and loved him since he had been a toddler.

"Enjoy your kid-free evening. 'Bye!"

After he'd hung up, Rue could use both hands and he dished up the rest of his meal. Since Cal and Jayce weren't here he didn't have to get out the gravy. A little pepper and just a sprinkle of salt did him just fine, and Rue sat down to eat.

After a few mouthfuls, Rue found that the silence was getting to him, and he got up to turn on the stereo in the living room. Vivaldi's Four Seasons was soothing, and he didn't usually get to play it when Cal and Jayce were home, since classical music made them twitchy.

By the time he finished eating, the bottle of wine also seemed to have vanished. Rue switched to water, belatedly putting all the leftovers in the fridge. It was only eight, and the evening stretched ahead of him. Rue sighed, grabbing his water and repairing to the den to work on his newest assignment.

The information was pretty straightforward and he didn't anticipate any major problems, but this job had a weird feel to it. Or maybe it had been the woman that he had met today.

Elsie Brown had been everything her name had suggested; a small, slender brunette with an almost-but-not-quite attractive face hidden behind thick glasses. She hadn't looked to be more nineteen, although she'd been working as a private detective long enough that she had to be closer to Rue's age. Her quick efficiency had been disguised by the stuttering, anxious way she had moved and spoken.

She'd seemed shy at first, but as they had worked together she'd blossomed, chattering away about all sort of things; her bad luck with men, the Mr. Right that she'd finally found and was engaged to, the discrimination she had to face in her line of work, due to her youthful appearance.

Rue could certainly identify with that last, seeing as everyone he met seemed to think that he was too clean-cut and normal in appearance to be effective as either a hacker or a Wiccan, much less both.

He didn't mind listening to Elsie talk, though it had made him feel a little uncomfortable hearing so much about her personal life. It had certainly underlined for him how unusual his own lifestyle was.... He was just glad that she had been too busy talking about herself to ask him any probing questions. Not that Rue was in any way ashamed of his life. Not really. He wouldn't for the sake of his soul have traded place with her, in any respect, and yet listening to her ramble on had made him feel kind of odd.

Or maybe it was something else. Something that Rue couldn't pin down. Elsie hadn't a bit of magic to her, and certainly had no demonic blood, like Cal did. And yet her presence had caused a strange shiver through the surface of Rue's Power.

Setting aside this distraction, Rue powered up his notebook and set to work. He was pretty sure he wouldn't need to use any Power on this job; his regular hacking abilities should be enough. He was operating a little below the wavering line of legality that hackers so often shattered, but he wasn't going to end up doing anything anyone could pin on him. The Orion Corporation was a company adept at turning a blind eye, and anyway, Rue was going to be careful to cover his tracks. He didn't need any extra trouble.

Despite his misgivings over the evening he was going to spend alone, Rue got so caught up in his efforts that the clock had rolled around to ten-thirty before he realized. He sat back, dragging his hands through his hair, then scrubbing his face. He was still wearing his white button-up shirt, the sleeves now rolled up to bare his wrists, and his dark slacks. Usually he changed into sweatpants, shorts, or stripped down to his skin... but usually he was using his Power, and tonight he hadn't been. At least he'd kicked off his shoes in the entryway, as per usual.

Sighing, Rue stood, rubbing his eyes. He felt gritty and in need of a shower, even though his work hadn't been very taxing. Still, sitting in the same spot for hours on end could account for that. Rue stretched, arching his spine, bending this way and that, working out the kinks. For a moment he wished that Cal was home to give him a neck rub, then he caught himself, remembered what even the most casual of touches inevitably led to, and decided that he was better off without.

In the master bedroom, Rue stripped off his clothing, tossing it all in the direction of the hamper that wasn't there. He belatedly recalled the laundry that still needed to be done, but it was late and he was tired. Bathing seemed to him to be the more compelling pursuit. The dirty clothes would still be there tomorrow.

His long, warm shower was refreshing, but not enough to wash away a week's weariness. Rue rubbed his hair briskly with a towel, brushed his teeth, and pulled on a pair of sweatpants to sleep in. He was a little surprised that Cal hadn't come home yet, but Jess had said that he'd be late. The desire briefly touched him to call Jayce -- the boy had his own cell phone, though he wasn't allowed to use it to call anyone other than his fathers, Jess, Ryan, or the Orion emergency line -- but his son would already be at the concert Jess had mentioned. It would have been nothing but self-indulgence and neediness on Rue's part, and he was mature enough to recognize this.

Rue yawned, padding barefooted into the bedroom he and Cal shared. It had been soundproofed shortly after they had moved in two years ago, but the powerful Wards Rue had woven all around the house would let him know when Cal got home. Unless he was too deeply sunk into slumber, but if that was the case, he had no doubt that Cal would find his own way to wake him.

His mouth twisting, more a wry expression than a bitter one, Rue climbed into bed and turned off the lights. The mattress was larger than a king-size, the frame thick and sturdy with a titanium-core. Everything about it had been custom-made and not in the least inexpensive. But having a lover who was a quarter demon made it necessary; Rue had been forced to replace their bed twice before he had wised up and ordered this one specially built. He had compelled Cal to pay for two-thirds of its construction, as well as his half of the soundproofing. Since it was one hundred percent Cal's fault that both had been required, he hadn't considered this in the least unfair.

Rue's hair was still damp as he lay his head down on his pillow. Dragging the covers up over his bare shoulder, he curled on one side. The sheets were chill, warming slowly to his body heat, and after a moment he realized that he was missing the steady warmth that Cal's large body constantly put out. It was irritating in the summer time, but when the weather got more chill he didn't find the heat that washed over him when Cal spooned them together, the way he so often did after sex, to be completely undesirable.

The room was quiet, only natural with the soundproofing. Rue listened to his own breathing, his eyes closed against the darkness. It felt a little weird to be going to bed unmolested, without having been fucked by Cal whether he would or no -- not that he ever did. Rue almost didn't know what to do with himself.

Flopping over on his back and taking advantage of not having to share the bed, not being tucked up against the chest of a big man who wouldn't let him go, Rue spread his arms and legs. He slung an arm over his eyes and tried to tell himself that the thought of being drilled into the mattress hadn't just turned him on... a little....

Deciding that it would be easier to pretend to himself that his cock wasn't rousing if he wasn't lying on his back, Rue rolled onto his other side. This brought him closer to the center of the bed, and he winced when he realized that the pillow beneath his head was one that smelled of Cal. A frown dented itself between his brows, and Rue grasped the pillow, intending to push it away.

The fact that he somehow tugged it closer, tucking it under his chin and wrapping both arms around it.... Well, Rue just wasn't sure how that had happened. But by the time he realized what he had done, he was on the verge of falling asleep. Nuzzling the soft lump and breathing in the ghost of Cal's spicy, musky scent that clung to its surface, Rue relaxed into the bed and drowsed off.

***

His limbs giving a little start, Rue awoke with the clear image in his mind of Elsie's spidery hands playing over the keyboard, cheap silver rings flashing, knuckles a little too large, fingertips a little too tapered, nails a little too bluntly trimmed to be labeled as graceful....

What the hell? Rue sat up, rubbing the sleep from the corners in his eyes and boggling. He'd spent only a little more than three hours with the woman today, and aside from her incessant chatter, she hadn't truly made any sort of an impression on him. She certainly wasn't his type physically, nor had she seemed attracted to him in the slightest; which was good, the way she'd been going on about her fiancee. And... well, and taking into consideration his own situation at home.

Allowing the thought of Elsie and her skinny hands to slide away, Rue realized as he became more wakeful that the reason he had roused was because Cal had just arrived home.

Rue glanced at the dimly glowing red numbers of the clock, blinking in shock when his sleep-shrouded brain finally registered that it read two-twenty a.m. Cal was getting in late indeed! Even though it was a Friday night, Cal was a family man now, and Rue could count on the fingers of one foot how many times he had gone out partying after work... at least without Rue.

Cal cracked the bedroom door open and peered inside. Rue couldn't see him as much more than a slightly darker shadow, but he knew that Cal could see him as clearly as though he had turned on the overhead lights. Just one of the many innate benefits to having partially demonic ancestry. Fortunately for Rue's peace of mind, Cal looked almost completely human -- albeit a large, powerful, ridiculously attractive human -- and since he had been raised by a nice older couple, he usually acted like a human. Except when it came to sex... but Rue tried not to dwell on that aspect of their relationship.

"Did I wake you?" Cal asked, his voice low, as he slipped into the room and closed the door quietly behind him.

Rue yawned, scratching at his scalp through hair that was still slightly damp at the roots. "Of course," he replied, no censure in his voice. On some level he was actually glad to see Cal -- he wasn't awake enough yet to have raised the barriers around his emotions that he normally erected, and he had been quite lonely this evening, without Cal, Jayce, Ryan, or Jess around.

"Sorry." Cal padded into the master bedroom, silent on the thick carpet. He had probably left his heavy workboots out in the utility area, and he was stripping his shirt over his head as he moved. "Things got a little hairy outside the Wall... literally."

Rue caught himself before he could chuckle, though his mouth did quirk. He ran a hand through his wild hair in a vain effort to tame it, then swung his legs over the side of the bed. Bed wasn't somewhere he was comfortable being when Cal came home from work, when they hadn't come together since that morning and Cal's "morning quickie"... which hadn't been all that quick at all.

"I'm gonna shower," Cal said, already headed for their bathroom.

"Didn't you shower in the Orion waystation?" Rue queried. He could smell the powerful disinfectant soap from halfway across the room. But that last was probably the reason that Cal wanted to bathe; after all, Cal's nose was even more sensitive than Rue's was.

"Just enough to get the blood off," Cal replied, his work pants dropping to the floor with a crunch and a jingle. Rue kept his face turned away, even though he couldn't see Cal in the darkness of the room.

"Understandable," Rue allowed, confident that it wasn't Cal's own blood that needed washing away. With one quarter demon blood, Cal had proved himself to be thus far invulnerable. As Rue rediscovered every time he tried to hit Cal; not that this ever stopped him from doing so. It was the principal of the thing, by the point that Rue had been reduced to violence. Something niggled at him, something he needed to tell Cal. Oh, yes. "Jess and Ryan are keeping Jayce overnight," he let the boy's blood-parent know.

"Oh? That was cool of them." Cal opened the bathroom door, pausing a moment on the threshold without turning on the light. "We'll have to treat them to dinner this weekend or something."

"It sounded as though they were happy to use our son as an excuse to go to the arcade and a concert," Rue grinned. It was rare that Cal came home and they had a conversation rather than Cal jumping him and forcing him into sex, and Rue thought that he liked it; even if it was a little different. Cal must have had a rough day at work. Well, the fact that he hadn't come home until what was technically the following morning would seem to indicate this. "But I've got no problem treating them to a meal. Sounds like fun."

"I'll invite them when I pick Jayce up tomorrow," Cal said, then his jaw cracked in a wide yawn of his own. "Unghf. Hitting the shower now."

The bathroom door closed behind the other man, and it wasn't until then that Rue realized that he needed to use the toilet.

"Damn," he grumbled, rising and making his way to the door. He was going to have to use the other bathroom, the one between their bedroom and Jayce's. Not that this was such a major inconvenience, and at least with Jayce over at Jess and Ryan's place he didn't have to worry about disturbing his son when he flushed. The master bedroom and the adjoining bath were the only rooms soundproofed. They were the only rooms that really needed to be.

Rue made his way to the bathroom in the dark, one hand running along the wall in the hallway, but once there he turned the lights on, keeping them low so as not to blind himself. Cal might be comfortable using the bathroom in the dark, but Rue wasn't going to risk missing the bowl.

Once the pressure on his bladder was relieved, Rue systematically went to the sink and washed his hands. Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, Rue ran some water over his son's brush, which Jayce had left on the counter, and did his best to tame his bedhead. He had limited success, but was too sleepy to really make much of an effort -- especially since he was just headed back to bed anyway.

Yawning again, his eyes drowsily half closed, Rue turned off the light and exited the bathroom. Now he really couldn't see. Fortunately, there wasn't anything in the short length of the hall between this bathroom and his bedroom for him to bump into.

Nothing other than Cal, that was.

"What th--?!" Rue glowered upward, knowing that Cal would see him, even if he couldn't see the taller man. "What are you doing out here?" he snapped, one hand resting on Cal's chest. The younger man was still faintly moist from his shower, even though the teeshirt he was wearing was dry.

"Well, you're out here," Cal said, as though this answer made the utmost sense.

Rue sighed. "I was headed back to the bedroom," he pointed out as patiently as he could. "You could have just waited there."

"I didn't want to wait," Cal murmured, his hands landing warm and heavy on Rue's hips through the material of his sweats.

Rue cursed himself internally for letting his guard down. The fact that Cal had engaged in actual conversation directly upon coming home had completely thrown him off. And now that the larger man had his hands on him, there was no way Rue was going to be able to escape.

Cal reeled him in effortlessly, even though Rue did his best to set his heels into the hall carpet. His hand was still resting over Cal's pectoral, but he didn't even come close to having the arm strength to brace himself. As Cal wrestled him closer, Rue jammed his forearm between them, but his best efforts might as well have been pitting a straw against gale force winds. It was common practice with Cal to ignore any resistance as though it did not exist in the first place.

Rue squirmed, but Cal already had them hip to hip, and this only made him overly aware of the other man's arousal. Rue froze for an instant, and it would have been foolishness for Cal not to take advantage of this lapse.

Pulling him even closer, Cal's mouth closer over Rue's. Not in the hungry, demanding kiss that he had been expecting, but more just a steady, warm pressure. It was somehow even more intimate than an open-mouthed tongue kiss would have been, and Rue renewed his struggles.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, Cal released him. Rue fell back, the base of his skull thumping against the wall, his feet braced beneath him. Cal loomed over him in the dark hallway like a tall, broad shadow. A solid shadow which breathed, radiating heat, and exuding a thick musk that pervaded Rue's senses and clouded his thoughts to the point that coherency was almost entirely lost.

And yet as moments spun themselves from the future to the present and into the past, Cal made no move to claim him, as was their norm under this set of circumstances. Powerful hands pressed to the wall to either side of Rue's shoulders, muscle-corded arms caging him in, preventing him from moving to flee. Cal's head was bent, his mouth hovering close enough that they were sharing breath, heated gusts as they both panted in this prolonged moment of suspended lust. If Rue were to raise his chin... just a little.... But... but why would he do that?

Cal was so close that his body heat, higher than that of a normal human, washed over every inch of Rue, from his flushed face to his rapidly rousing groin. And yet Cal made no move to kiss him, to touch him, to in any way molest him. The only place their bodies came together was the spot where Cal's leg was wedged between Rue's, the hard line of his thigh pushing with almost painful, wickedly tantalizing pressure up against Rue's crotch. He could feel the heat of Cal's thigh through the thin material of his sweats, burning into his mind as surely as it was burning into his flesh.

Rue swallowed tightly, his hands fisted at his sides, his back stiff, hair crinkling between his skull and the wall as he did his best not to move his head. He wouldn't give in to the desire to try to push Cal away. The other man was as unmoving as a block of granite, and Rue felt, with a squirm of uncomfortable internal honesty, that he didn't want to be the one to touch Cal, to initiate further struggles, or worse, foreplay.

"What are you doing?" he ground out, all but quivering with the effort of holding himself completely still.

"Absolutely nothing," Cal murmured, his low voice sliding over Rue in warm shiver-shocks, the words gusting against Rue's lips and chin, moist and mint-scented. "Isn't that what you always say you want?"

Rue could feel the muscles in his jaw clenching, and he strained to see the expression on Cal's face. It was too dark, though. The complete lack of illumination rendered this situation incredibly intimate and almost dreamlike. "Then let me go," he urged, feeling his nails digging into his palms.

"No." Cal's refusal was softly voiced but intractable.

Rue realized that he was chewing on his lower lip, and he forced himself to stop. "What... what do you want from me?" he growled, wondering how on earth they had gotten into this situation. And what sort of situation it was. Cal was confusing him, throwing him off guard, and Rue didn't like that. There was an almost routine give and take to their every coupling; mostly involving Cal taking what he wanted. And now Cal was not doing what Rue had come to expect. Hadn't since his arrival home, in fact.

"It's not what I want," Cal husked, that entirely reasonable tone in his voice that always drove Rue mad with frustration; especially when Cal was using it to argue his way into Rue's pants. "I'm just wondering how long it will take you to be honest about what you want."

"What?" Rue tried to shout, to get angry, but the air seemed to be being sucked out of his lungs by the waves of passion that were sweeping through him. His cock was pulsing against the unmoving bulk of Cal's thigh, and he was growing more and more distracted by Cal's closeness. It was almost like being teased.... But it couldn't really be considered teasing, could it? Because he didn't want to be here. He didn't.

"I'm not going to move," Cal clarified, his voice wrapping itself around Rue like the most intrusive of embraces. "Not until you do. You're going to have to be honest for once. With yourself and with me."

Rue drew a breath, intending to argue, to squirm free of Cal's arms and prove the other man a liar, wanting nothing more than to escape from this crazy predicament. How dare Cal--? How could he--? And what was Rue going to do?! If he tried to push Cal away he would find him unmoving. If he wriggled loose, he might very well topple over, since Cal's thigh was jammed so far up between his legs. And any move he made would only increase their physical contact in ways that made Rue tense up to even contemplate.

"Shit." He didn't realize that the profanity had passed his lips until he heard Cal chuckle, a dark, dangerous rumble that he could feel in the air between them.

"It's all up to you now, Rue," Cal murmured, lowering his head just a little, so that their mouths were that much closer, the muscles in his thigh shifting ever so slightly, but with enough intent to send tingles of reaction through Rue's body.

"You bastard," Rue hissed, one fist jerking, though he remained as still as he could. "You liar. You just moved."

"Only a little," Cal assured him, sounding entirely too earnest and sensible for Rue's liking. "And I won't do it again. Not until you do."

Rue thought that maybe he cursed again, but he couldn't hear over the rush of blood in his ears, couldn't think past the surge of crimson that filled his eyes and mind. He wasn't sure if he was more embarrassed or furious, but he was definitely feeling both emotions, and strongly.

It was without thinking that he brought both hands up now, pressing his palms against Cal's chest and doing his best to shove the other man away. Naturally, this did as much good as it ever did. Cal didn't budge by so much as a centimeter. And since Rue's back was up against the wall, this meant that neither of them was going anywhere.

It was truly demoralizing to be so completely unable to affect any sort of a real struggle, though Rue wasn't quite focused on that at the moment. His entire attention was taken up by the fact that in flexing his arms, straining against Cal's greater bulk, he had inadvertently shifted his hips. Prickles of unexpected friction shot straight from his groin to the center of his brain, shorting out any sort of rational argument he might have made in regards to this enforced encounter. Not that he hadn't already gone past the point of conversation and deeply into visceral reactions several heartbeats ago.

His hands fisted, fingers digging into the thin material of Cal's teeshirt and pulling tightly enough to cause seams to rip. Surely it was the rising tide of anger and the sense of being locked into an impossible battle that cause Rue to raise his chin that vital notch, their mouths coming together with a clash of teeth and a merging of flesh too violent to be considered in any way romantic. There was nothing romantic about this situation to begin with. Cal had trapped him in a corner with only one way out, and Rue couldn't come up with anything else he could have done to respond.

This was what he told himself, at any rate, as a sop to his ego, even as the kiss became more tender, Cal's mouth moving against his in a way that wordlessly coaxed and cajoled. Without his realizing it, Rue had somehow melted into this unwelcome embrace -- one which he had initiated himself, but had he ever really been given a choice? -- his upper torso gravitating into the pull of Cal's broad warmth, even as the tension built below his waist, his pelvis somehow moving in erratic circles against Cal's rock-hard thigh without his willing it.

How could Cal get so upset at him for sending mixed signals, Rue wondered, when his own body did the same to him? He didn't want this, he was certain of that. And yet the blood surging in his veins did its best to convince him otherwise.

Cal's hands were suddenly strong and hot on his shoulders, pulling him closer, Cal's tongue an agile invader between lips that already felt bruised, exploring his mouth, taking and tasting and tangling with his own tongue until they fought for dominance; a battle that Cal would win, as he always won.

Rue gasped for breath when Cal finally released him, moist lips tracking to his ear, one of those powerful hands moving down to cup his rear in a possessive palm, grinding his captive groin against Cal's thigh with enough pressure to make him gasp and utter a small cry. The sensation was so intense that it almost hurt, and it was with crushing chagrin that Rue discovered he had wrapped his arms around Cal's neck, and that he was moving against the larger man like a wanton creature.

"There," Cal groaned in his ear, quick panting breaths breaking hot and wet against the delicate flesh. Rue shivered at the stimulation. "Was that really so difficult?"

"Hate you," Rue gasped, then he yelped and jolted in Cal's ever tightening, possessive embrace as the infuriating quarter-demon sank those damned fangs into the side of his neck hard enough, he was sure, to draw blood. "Ow! S-stop that!"

Cal's muffled growl contained no words as he nipped, sucked, worried at Rue's captive flesh, but the intent was unmistakable; as clear as the fact that he in no way let up his pressure. Rue cursed again, loosing one hand to punch Cal in the shoulder; not that it would do anything but hurt his own fist. He had told Cal time and again not to mark him where anyone could see, and he was fed up with the other man "forgetting". It was June, for the goddess' sake, and too warm out to wear a turtleneck to work tomorrow!

"Stop it, g-goddamn it!" he cried, punching at Cal's shoulder fruitlessly. "Leave off, you bastard!"

The fact that Cal did at this point release him, Rue was dead certain from past experience, was more because he now felt that his mate was sufficiently marked than it was because of any protests Rue had voiced. This irked him, even as he gasped in relief.

His relief was short-lived, which was, again, nothing out of the ordinary. Cal's hands were large and sure, his grip firm, intractably steady as he grabbed a hold of Rue's hips, pulling him into the sway of his pelvis. Back where they had been several minutes ago, a lifetime ago.... Rue shivered, caught up in the crux of several different complex reactions and emotions as he made note, almost unwilling, of the thick ridge of Cal's hard-on, which was imprinting itself against his lower belly.

"Sorry," Cal was husking in his ear, and Rue's brain skipped, struggling to remember why the other man would be apologizing; aside from the obvious fact of Cal forcing him into this situation, which was nothing out of the norm and nothing that Cal ever apologized for. The line of his neck smarted, the abused flesh jogging his memory as the saliva on his skin cooled. Ah. That was it.

"Asshole," he responded, the appellation tumbling from his lips in a low groan, followed by a wretchedly unmanly whimper, as Cal's tongue curled around his lobe, then found its way into the sworls of his ear. Fortunately, he wasn't ticklish, but the sudden wet-warm assault sent prickling tingles of response that hooked into his groin, ratcheting up his undeniable arousal by another point or five. "Stop it!" he gasped, striking Cal's shoulder again. It didn't do any good -- Cal could take a sledgehammer blow to the back and the worst it would do would be to throw him slightly off balance -- but Rue needed some way to communicate his emotions. It wasn't as though Cal ever listened to a word he said when he was horny.

"Stop what?" Cal murmured moistly into his ear, then Rue yelped as sharp teeth nipped delicately at the fleshy part of his lobe. This unexpected assault was followed by a dark chuckle, and Rue punched at Cal's shoulder hard enough to bruise his hand; a mute protest because he was effectively beyond forming coherent words at the moment.

Before he could attempt to squirm free of Cal's smothering embrace -- not that there was much hope of that, but sometimes a man just had to try -- Rue found himself abruptly released. He fell back against the wall, panting for breath, his system shocked into immobility by the sudden change. Cal still hovered over him, a heated blanket of masculinity, but his thigh was no longer wedged between Rue's, and his hands had retreated, no longer invading Rue's personal space.

Rue belatedly unhooked his arm from around Cal's neck, though one of his hands remained on Cal's rock-hard shoulder, as though he needed to reassure himself that the other man was still there. Cast adrift in the complete darkness, he didn't want to feel as though he was alone.

Then Cal's hands, broad hands with long graceful but strong fingers, were at his waist, pulling him into a more gentle, less forceful embrace. And Rue let him, finally releasing the majority of the anger and hostility that he had been feeling ever since Cal had assaulted him here in the hall.

Their lips met and meshed, a kiss flavored with something that could almost pass for tenderness, rather than the violence and raw lust from earlier. Cal was bent over him, one strong arm curled behind his lower back, his other hand sliding down and around to splay over the curve of his rear, sneaking under the waistband of Rue's sweats.

"Do you want to go to the bed?" Cal asked breathlessly when they parted for air. He sounded almost hesitant, though uncertainty was one trait he rarely exhibited. Rue felt absurdly touched by the tone, and it was only with an effort of will that he squashed this reaction. It wasn't that he truly hated Cal, even when the other man forced his attentions on him and caused his body to respond in ways he didn't want... or, if he was being completely honest, couldn't reconcile with his mental image of himself. In fact, when sex wasn't a factor, Cal was a sweet, thoughtful, intelligent person that Rue would have been more than happy to befriend. But Rue was still struggling to come to terms with the strange, submissive, uninhibited side of himself that Cal seemed to be able to bring to the surface with practically no effort.

"Well, you're not going to take me against the wall," Rue said hoarsely, trying for a caustic tone. He wasn't very successful, and his face burned as he recalled the times in the past that Cal had done exactly that. There was a huge field of unrestrained desire between them in this moment, and it was far too late to deny that it was there. He wasn't enough of a hypocrite that he was going to try -- his straining erection would only have branded him a liar anyway.

Cal let out a startled little laugh, and then Rue released an outraged cry as he found himself hefted in the air and slung belly-down over the larger man's broad shoulder.

"Fucker!" he howled, slamming his fist into Cal's upper back. It crossed his mind to be impressed and grateful that he didn't feel in the least unbalanced or unsafe as Cal carted him back into the bedroom, but he was too pissed off to allow this fact to soften his reaction. "Fuck! Cal! Put me down!"

"All right." Cal's response was calm and amused, and Rue had an instant to realize that he probably shouldn't have made that demand before he was airborne. The dark room spun around him and the mattress lunged upward to cushion his fall. He bounced on its surface, momentarily dazed, and then anger surged to the fore again.

"You bast--" He hadn't gotten more than halfway through his sputtered curse when he felt Cal's hands at the top of his sweats again. "No!"

Cal 'tsk'ed at him as he effortlessly stripped Rue of his only article of clothing, tossing the pants somewhere below the foot of the bed. Cal expertly divested himself of the boxers he was wearing, then there was the long tearing sound of seams and material ripping, and the teeshirt followed after. Rue grimaced; patience wasn't one of Cal's strong points when sex was involved.

Rue caught his breath, trying to get his elbows under him, but before he could manage this, he was bowled over and pressed into the bed by the majority of Cal's weight. As always, Cal was mindful of his own bulk and was careful enough not to completely crush him, but Rue gasped, the air pressed out of him in one rush. Before he could catch his breath his mouth had been reclaimed.

Rue took a moment to center himself, trying to relax his tense muscles with limited success, knowing that it would be better in the long run if he could overcome the battle within himself, since he had so clearly lost the familiar battle with Cal. Maybe Cal had managed to break him in slightly through the years -- Rue had to admit that this was the case, because he never would have been this easily subdued even a year ago -- but it was still a constant struggle, and this took place as much inside Rue's own head as it did between the two of them. Not that he would ever let Cal know this; his demonic lover savored every tiny victory too much as it was.

Cal's hands were cradling his face, thumbs imprinting small spirals over his cheekbones. His mouth moved softly over Rue's, plush friction followed by the wet sweep of a tongue. Rue unconsciously parted his lips, allowing Cal to invade him this way, mainly because the majority of his attention was currently focused on the steady pulsing beat that was rooted between his thighs. Cal's torso covered his own, their chests and bellies pressed close. Their pelvises grated against each other, Cal's legs lying somewhat diagonally over Rue's. He had quite effectively pinned Rue down, and Rue wondered vaguely whether this was intentional or not. With Cal, sometimes it was difficult to tell.

The aching length of his erection had been trapped, upright, between their hard lower bellies, and he could feel that Cal's rested right alongside it. Yet Cal made no move to thrust, to hump, or even to shift his hips in the faintest. Rue wasn't sure that this wasn't even more torturous, and the fact that he was unable to move himself was less a relief than it was an annoyance.

One of Rue's hands had caught in the pillow underneath his head, his fingers sinking into the plump material as though it might offer some sort of aid. His other arm, he tried not to notice, was locked around Cal's neck and shoulders, though that hand remained fisted.

Perhaps out of frustration, or maybe due to the arousal that got harder and harder to deny every time Cal took him, Rue sent his tongue twining back against Cal's. It was almost like wrestling, in the way that their bodies could not, considering that Cal still had Rue quite effectively pinned to the bed. Before he really realized it, Rue found that his tongue had chased Cal's into the other man's mouth, and he wondered whether the salt he tasted was only sweat, or whether Cal really had broken the skin when he had marked his neck earlier in the hall. Cal was usually pretty careful about that sort of thing, though.

Cal made a low murmuring noise in the back of his throat, his mouth coming down to crush more heavily against Rue's. In a swift shuffle of movement, where Rue had absolutely no control over how his body was shifted and maneuvered, Cal rolled them both over onto their sides. His hands left Rue's face, one arm wrapping around his shoulderblades and pulling him close to that magnificent chest with its rock-hard pecs, the other sliding down until his fingers gripped forcefully at one of Rue's ass cheeks. Their groins were no longer sharing quite such close quarters, but now Rue found that he was trapped by one of Cal's legs thrown over top of his own.

Simultaneous with this change in position, Cal's kiss became more hungry, less tender. Rue loosed a sound of vague protest as Cal crushed their mouths together, teeth nipping at the swollen line of his lower lip, but it really was too late. Not only was there absolutely zero chance of Cal stopping now -- or even slowing -- but if Rue was painfully honest with himself, he could admit that his own throbbing hard-on needed satisfying. And despite all the times he commanded Cal to jerk off instead of molesting him, he knew damned well that masturbation really didn't do much for either of them.

At least now he wasn't being squashed, even though Cal had him caught under one arm and one leg. Rue squirmed into a slightly more comfortable position, allowing one hand to rest against Cal's chest. The skin beneath his fingers was smooth, supple, and it seemed impossible to Rue that it could withstand fire, bullets, grenade shrapnel -- had done so, in times past. It was also very warm, radiating a body temperature that was noticeably higher than that of a normal human.

Usually Rue tried not to think about the fact that Cal did not have a completely human background. Not because he felt that there was anything wrong with it -- as an active cyber-Wiccan, Rue had dealt with more than his own share of prejudices and misconceptions -- but because that knowledge came with its own brimming can of worms that Rue would rather not open.

Like the way that Cal had chosen him as a mate and had taken him the very same day they had first met, continued to take him two or more times daily. The way Cal marked him on a regular basis. The fact that Cal could scent when Rue was aroused, or knew when he was honestly upset over something. The way he was never shy about declaring any of these things aloud, with no regard for Rue's feelings on the matter.

These were now facts of Rue's life, and dwelling on them only led him to feel a strange mixture of guilt, shame, and anger that clouded his own senses and stifled his Power. He wished that he could be as open as Cal was, and always act on his instincts.... But he was still having worlds of trouble figuring out what his instincts were telling him. Dealing with Cal's actions without popping an aneurysm was usually the best that Rue could do. And ignoring Cal's part-demon ancestry made things a little easier.

Except when it was impossible; like the fact that Cal had effortlessly pinned him to the bed with no more than one arm and one leg flung over his body. Rue could continue to struggle, to fight against the inevitable. He normally did. But tonight had been strange from the beginning, and he was thrown off just enough that he didn't feel like continuing the battle. It was a point of pride, daily, nightly, sometimes hourly, that he did not allow himself to be used without putting up at least some token resistance. But Cal had already overridden his protests, had even forced him into initiating a kiss. Rue had already lost, and part of being a man was being able to admit that much.

Besides, the bed was softer and Cal's embrace was warmer when Rue relaxed into it and didn't strain to escape. He was turned on, ready for fucking, his body tight with anticipation, but there was a part of him, deep inside, that took this moment to relent. And he discovered, much to his chagrin, that this internal capitulation made every following touch that much more pleasurable.

Cal's lips softened against Rue's, as though he had sensed this surrender -- and he probably had, damn his eyes -- his fingers now moving more delicately over the swell of Rue's rear, instead of the possessive, bruising grip he had been maintaining a moment before. Rue shivered, torn between turned on and ticklish. He allowed his own hand to slip up into Cal's thick hair, still wet from his shower, gripping the nape of Cal's neck and urging him silently to kiss more deeply, taste more completely. Rue's other hand splayed over Cal's chest, feeling the beating of Cal's heart pick up noticeably when he sent his tongue twining back, daring even to dip into Cal's mouth, his thigh brushing with deliberate intent against the huge erection that jutted between them.

As Cal gasped, then growled, rolling over so that he was once again directly above Rue, tearing his mouth free and sinking his teeth into the spot where his shoulder met his neck, Rue felt his rare relaxed moment burst like a soap bubble, and he recalled belatedly why he almost never played along. Cal always took any active behavior on his part far too seriously; either becoming a big goofy puppy over it, or allowing his aggressive, demonic side to come to the fore.

How was Rue supposed to be able to deal with that?! He cursed vigorously, squirming beneath Cal and striking at him once again. At least this time Cal's hips had settled between Rue's thighs, and he was able to channel some of his fury at being once more dominated and marked against his wishes into the grinding of his hard-on into the solid plane of Cal's belly.

"Ow! Fuck! Bastard, stop it!" he managed to get out, the words strangled. Cal was hurting him, his bite only relenting slightly, shifting seamlessly into the suction that was going to, Rue knew from past experience, form a really huge hickey. "No biting!"

Cal loosed him, licking for a moment at the wound, before kissing Rue on the mouth with a tenderness that Rue found to be utterly ironic. "Sorry," Cal huffed against Rue's lips, catching the hand that Rue had been hitting him with and effortlessly pinning it beside his head, their fingers intertwined. "I forgot myself."

"I know." This time Rue managed to make his words drip the caustic ill-humor he was feeling. He felt Cal wince against him, but it didn't cause him any real guilt this time. Making Cal feel bad was the karmic equivalent of kicking a puppy, normally. But right now Rue's neck and shoulder hurt. And that wasn't the worst of it.

"Fuck, Cal," Rue sighed, collapsing back into the bed with a low groan. "You want to know why I never want to touch you, or start anything. And then you pull this sort of shit whenever I come close."

"I'm sorry," Cal repeated, his tone contrite. "Really, Rue. I'm sorry."

Rue shook his head, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. It was lost in the shadows, but so were they. His shoulder ached, but Cal sounded honestly repentant. Rue could hold onto a grudge as well as the next person, but he thought that maybe, just maybe this time he had made his point and Cal would actually listen and learn.

"It's all right," he allowed, running his fingers through Cal's thick, damp hair in a conciliatory manner, then pressing his palm against the side of Cal's face. It really had been a strange night, following a strange evening, and there were some things coming to the surface that Rue had smothered and tried to ignore for years now. It was easier in this late-night clinch to let go of logical thought and rational reactions and to just give the reins over to his libido. He'd deal with the fallout afterwards; preferably not until morning. "It's all right, Cal. But wouldn't you rather be fucking me than talking?"

Cal's indrawn breath bespoke a level of shock that would have amused Rue if he hadn't been so horny and irritated.

"I really am sorry, Rue," Cal murmured, leaning down in the darkness to brush his lips lightly over Rue's, pausing there a moment to share breath and not much else. "Because you're right."

"Unghf." Rue wasn't going to argue -- especially when it was so difficult to get Cal to admit that Rue had been correct in something -- but Cal had begun shifting his hips against Rue's with a steady rhythm that was more than a little distracting. Rue's erection was screaming at him that he had ignored it for long enough, and he was becoming more and more inclined to agree.

Cal's mouth met his with more certainty, their lips pressing together, tongues meeting and tangling somewhere in between. Rue's fingers remained settled in Cal's hair, his other hand resting on the hard line of Cal's shoulder. His neck and shoulder still ached and he wasn't going to forget any time soon, but he was willing to forgive -- at least until they had both gotten off. Still, the nervous side of his nature, the part of him that turtled up like a scared small creature whenever Cal let go of a little too much control, poked him with the reminder that the last thing Cal needed at this point was more encouragement. Apologies aside, heartfelt or not.

Rue gasped into the last of their kiss as Cal nuzzled at his mouth and chin, one sure hand sliding between their close-pressed bodies to wrap around his straining erection. Cal's lips worked their way down the line of Rue's neck, warm and soft, not bringing his fangs into play at all, while his hand moved up and down Rue's cock in slow, teasing strokes.

With a low groan, Rue arched up to meet Cal's ministrations. Cal was so very skilled at this sort of thing, and Rue wasn't prideful enough that he wouldn't accept what really amounted to a wordless apology. One that felt incredibly good.

Rue's hands moved almost with a will of their own, stroking at the sweeping, muscle-taut line of Cal's shoulders, as the other man peeled himself away and made his way down Rue's neck and chest. Cal kept the kisses light, delicate, only applying a bit of suction along with sweeps of his tongue, tasting the salt and sweet of Rue's skin. There was no more marking, for which Rue was grateful. Cal maintained the tender stroking of Rue's cock, and he whimpered in suspended arousal, shifting his hips restlessly into the steady tugging.

Cal chuckled against Rue's tense belly, causing Rue to let out a startled, faintly outraged sound when he circled his navel with the tip of his tongue. Rue jerked, his hand clenching in Cal's hair, tugging.

"Knock it off!" he growled, but Cal only laughed again.

"Ho? You mean you don't want me to...?" Although he left the sentence hanging, his meaning became perfectly clear as he shifted down, his large body moving gracefully on the mattress, until his mouth was poised directly above Rue's aching penis. Rue couldn't hold back a betraying moan as Cal's breath broke hot and moist over the weeping tip of his erection. Cal's skillful fingers manipulated the shaft, and then Rue jolted, coming up off the bed, practically folding himself in half in reaction as Cal's tongue moved over the blunt head of his cock.

"Shit!" Rue's thighs jerked beneath the weight of Cal's elbows where the other man had him almost absently pinned down, and then Rue fell back into the mattress, his head denting the pillow, one hand fisted in Cal's hair, still, the other gripping the bedcovers, as Cal took him all the way down in one smooth move. "Ah, goddess!"

Rue shuddered, his hips making an involuntary lunge upward that Cal's grip effortlessly thwarted, as his larger lover chuckled while still holding his erection in his mouth. Cal pulled back, his tongue moving against the underside of Rue's shaft, then swirling around the head of his cock. Rue was gasping for breath, his skin sizzling with perspiration and passion already, and he no longer noticed the areas of his neck and shoulder that Cal had bruised earlier.

"Not... not too much," Rue managed to gasp out, his fingers tightening in Cal's hair, tugging forcefully. "Cal! No more!" It was too intense, too intimate, and even though Cal did this almost every time, tonight Rue wasn't going to be able to lie back for it. Whether it was physical, mental, or, the goddess help him, emotional, Rue had already advanced beyond this point in their foreplay, and he now needed.... "I need you inside me," he gritted out. He was horrified to hear the admission pass his lips, but it was only a statement of fact. He wasn't begging... he wasn't!

The alacrity with which Cal detached himself from Rue's erection and reached for the nearby nightstand and its well-stocked drawer might have made Rue laugh if he hadn't been so turned on and so ready for it.

While he was momentarily free of Cal's weight, Rue took the opportunity to roll over onto his belly. Cal made a discontented sound as he turned back to the bed and discovered this fact, but he spread himself over Rue's supine body all the same. His mouth was warm and heavy over Rue's shoulderblade as his fingers, slick with lubricant, pushed inside, stretching and preparing and smearing the gel everywhere that it needed to be.

The near total darkness in the bedroom helped lend to the sensation of freedom and lack of restraint, and Rue allowed his eyes to slide closed, turning his face into the pillow. Cal touched his back, almost hesitantly, then dropped a sweet kiss onto the flesh at the nape of his neck.

"Rue," Cal breathed in his ear, moving seamless over Rue, arms locking him in a loose embrace, his mouth nuzzling at the spot where his jaw joined his neck. "Rue, I want to see you. I want to see...."

"No," Rue replied, turning his head slightly toward Cal, so that his voice wasn't muffled against the pillow. "I can't see you in the dark. That's not fair. So we're going to do it like this."

Cal let out a mournful sigh, but he didn't press the issue. Neither did he offer to turn the lamp on, or simply manhandle Rue into the position he desired, and Rue took a split second to be grateful for both these facts, even though he was a little too lost in a welter of lust and physical reactions to spend much thought on anything other than his own throbbing hard-on, and the huge, blunt heat of Cal's member nudging at the crack of his rear.

With what was more a growl than a groan, Cal punched through the negligible resistance that Rue's body offered, pushing inside in one long, maddeningly slow thrust. Rue muffled his own reaction in the pillow, glad that he couldn't hear himself over the roar of blood in his ears. Cal's hands were hot and steady on his shoulders, holding him in place as he impaled Rue on the proof of his passion. Rue bucked when Cal's teeth closed on the nape of his neck, but Cal only nipped, careful not to bruise or break the skin. It was a fierce punctuation to the feeling of the hot, hard rod filling him and driving over all of the right spots inside, and so Rue didn't protest... not that he had the ability in him to form words in this moment of raw, unadulterated rutting instinct.

"Rue," Cal husked in his ear, his palms caressing over the peaks of Rue's shoulders, his hips moving against Rue in small shocks of abortive coitus. They hung suspended like this for extended heartbeats, Rue's body accepting Cal's member and adjusting to the intrusion, Cal cradling Rue close and indulging in only shallow pulses, giving Rue the time that he needed. "Rue," he whispered again, his parted lips brushing over the back of Rue's neck, his breath gusting heated and wet.

Slowly releasing his deathgrip on the pillow, Rue attempted to tuck his elbows up underneath himself. Cal shifted, raising himself a little to give Rue the room he needed; otherwise he'd never have succeeded. Rue lifted his head, turning it to one side, toward Cal. One of Cal's broad, powerful hands came to rest against his upper back, moving soothingly -- or was that possessively? -- over his shoulderblades. Without much need for a shift in his position atop Rue, Cal stretched for a kiss. It was a sloppy, awkward affair, since they were off balance from this angle, and Cal would insist on bringing his tongue into play.

"Just move already," Rue panted against Cal's mouth, bending his knees and using the small amount of leverage the give of the mattress allowed him to grind upward into the penetration Cal didn't seem inclined to pursue to its inevitable conclusion. There was only so much he could take, and he had already been brought to his limit and over several times tonight. "F-fuck me, Cal! Come on!"

There weren't really many responses that Cal could have made to this demand other than the desired one. Rue cried out as Cal set to as instructed, drilling him into the mattress with the force of his unrestrained thrusts. Even though Cal was fucking him hard and fast, the burn of friction and the unrelenting assault on that one magical spot bringing Rue closer and closer to the pinnacle of his climax, Cal was still holding him; safe and steady and warm within the circle of his arms. He was gnawing at the curve where Rue's neck and shoulder met again, but this time it did not hurt, didn't even distract from the other sensations that were filling Rue to overflowing from the inside out.

The way in which they were joined didn't give Rue the faintest hope of moving, or of doing anything other than lying there and taking what Cal was so determinedly giving him. But this wasn't anything out of the ordinary, and Rue had chosen this position. He writhed beneath Cal, grasping at the pillow before him, his head bowed, teeth gritted, sweat beading his forehead and trickling down his cheekbones. The intensity was coiling inside of him like an elastic band, growing tighter and tighter with each shudder of pleasure that wracked his system, and every thrust brought him closer to the place where the tension would snap.

Using his inhuman strength, Cal suddenly shifted them both, raising up onto his knees without disengaging, forcing Rue to draw his own knees up under him. Cal's hands were on his hips now, almost encircling his waist, and Rue locked his arms, now in a half kneeling position under Cal.

Cal wrapped an arm around Rue, his hand fumbling for Rue's dripping penis, then closing around it with that expert touch that he knew so well.

Sliding together in a clasp that should have been awkward, but which Rue was too far gone in passion to acknowledge as uncomfortable, Cal rocked them both nearer and nearer to climax. Rue whimpered, unable to vocalize at all through the waves of blinding passion that were sweeping over him. He clung to the bedcovers, Cal's iron grip the only thing that kept him from skidding forward on the mattress.

"Come on, Rue," Cal panted in his ear, nipping at the line of his neck, his hand moving in steady beats, dragging Rue's impending orgasm out of him. "Come on, come for me!"

Rue was too far gone to resist, and he was already on the verge anyway. With one final bite, a sharp reminder of Cal's dominance and their current coupling, Rue broke through, a strangled shout making its way from his throat as he convulsed. The bedroom was still dark, but Rue's sight exploded in sparks of red, flashes of gold, a fountain of light illuminating his world from within.

Cal's powerful fingers milked from Rue the last of his climax as he spilled over the sheets, somehow not losing the easy rhythm he had settled into, even though it was clear from the quickening of his breath and the low guttural grunts he was releasing that he was coming up on the border of his own control.

Before Rue could register discomfort from the continued stimulation inside of him, Cal drew in a sharp breath, then simultaneously sank his teeth into the same spot on Rue's shoulder that he had marked earlier and pulled his cock all the way out. Rue found himself being pressed back into the mattress, full length, and Cal ground his erection into the slippery, lube and sweat slick crease of his crack, down between his thigh, the blunt head poking at his balls from behind. He wallowed over Rue for a few desperate beats, and then shot his load; mercifully into the bedcovers underneath Rue. Which must have been why he had done it, but Rue was more concerned with prying Cal's fangs out of the flesh of his shoulder joint.

Cal took care of this last himself, then wrestled Rue around to face him. He tugged Rue close, wrapping both arms around the other man in an embrace that informed Rue without words that he was absolutely not going to let go. Since Rue wasn't lying in the wet spot, and Cal had quite effectively fucked him into exhaustion, he wasn't inclined to argue.

Rue sighed, resting his cheek against one of Cal's hard pecs, slinging an arm over Cal's chest with the internal excuse that he would be more comfortable that way. He wasn't cuddling... he was just too weary and filled with the warmth of afterglow to try and wriggle his way loose. That was it.

Cal's hand ran down the curve of his spine, then clasped possessively over one ass cheek. Rue grumbled wordlessly, but he was comfortable where he was.

"You asshole," he mumbled, moving his head restlessly against Cal's chest. His neck stung in two places, one worse than the other. "Jerk. You fucking marked both sides of my neck."

"Sorry." To his credit, Cal actually did sound repentant. "I won't do it again." There was a pause. The sweat was drying on their naked skin, but Cal was one great big radiator of heat that Rue couldn't pull away from if he tried. "Next time I'll make sure to do it somewhere lower," Cal promised, sounding earnest and thoughtful. He squeezed Rue's rear. "Somewhere that no one but me will see."

"You will not!" Rue snapped, shaking off some of the lethargy that had descended upon him. He smacked Cal with an open palm, the popping sound more of a warning than the blow itself. "Fucking asshole!"

Cal merely shrugged, and Rue fumed a moment. Then he found himself drifting toward slumber. Cal's broad chest was warm, his hands gentle, his breathing steady and comforting.

"Rue?" Cal breathed, nuzzling at Rue's temple. "Hey, Rue?"

Rue made a sound that might have been considered a questioning response.

"Do you want me to get us under the covers?" Cal asked, his hand heavy and wide as he caressed Rue's ass. Rue could feel Cal's cock resting against his thigh, now that the all-over tingles from his orgasm were fading and normal sensation was returning to his skin. It ought to have been a menacing, dangerous realization, but it was really strangely comforting. In his half drowsing state, Rue could envision wrapping his hand around the flaccid length of Cal's huge member and just... holding it... thick and hot and heavy in his palm....

He didn't think he answered Cal, even with an inarticulate noise, but Cal must have decided that his answer would have been in the positive. Rue almost woke when Cal pulled away, easily shifting them both upon the bed so that he could pull the bedcovers over them. Their bed was wide, and Cal settled them in a spot where the blankets had not been soiled by their mutual climax.

Once they were between the sheets, Cal pulled Rue close again, and Rue curled into the welcoming curve of his ravisher's body. Cal's mouth rested heavy and soft against Rue's for a brief moment, and in this moment of insensible vulnerability Rue might almost have kissed him back if he hadn't been so rapidly falling asleep.

"...ve you...." Cal's whisper escaped his hearing in its fullness. Sleep had already drawn its veil over his senses, and he yawned, tucking his head into the crook of Cal's shoulder more comfortably. Cal's fingers tracked almost idly over the line of his thigh and hip, up and down... up and down... and then Rue was sound asleep.

***

The sun was determined to wake him, setting a brilliant, unrelenting assault upon his face, his eyelids a weak defense at best. He groaned, contemplated rolling away, but that would wake him up and defeat the purpose. Pulling a pillow over his head would work if he could get his hands on one....

"Gods, Ryan, get UP already! It's after ten-thirty!"

It was the voice of Jess, though, that really got him moving.

Ryan Mason yawned widely, sitting up and slinging his legs over the edge of the mattress. He scrubbed at his short hair, rubbed at his shorter beard, and slowly pried sleep-gritty eyes open. It had been a good concert last night -- too bad the kid had fallen asleep against his shoulder less than an hour into it. Jayce had missed a hell of a show.

"Is there breakfast?" he slurred. His partner was standing before the dresser, her amazing curves mostly naked, save for a tiny grey thong. The sunlight caressed her decidedly feminine body where it had been attacking him and Ryan envied it more than a little. Even though those were really his curves and his boobies, and he could touch them any time he wanted! Well... so long as Jayce wasn't around... or Rue... or any of Jess' co-workers... or if she wasn't busy doing something....

Jessica Reynolds made a derisive noise as she pulled a tight black tank over her head, effectively hiding the glory of her perky, peachy, pink-tipped breasts. Ryan took a moment to mourn the loss, then promised himself that he'd uncover them later, after the kid had gone home. "There'll be breakfast once you get in the kitchen and start cooking it," she informed him, shaking her loose, gold-streaked chestnut hair and running strong fingers through its glossy length.

"Well, is there coffee at least?" he asked mournfully, pushing his way upright. He tottered a moment on his feet, gained his balance, and then headed for his half of the dresser. A very good concert!

Jess wriggled her way into a pair of skin-tight black jeans, fastening them over her flat belly. Ryan reached out for the band of gold-warm flesh that flashed momentarily between the waistband and her tank. Jess smacked his hand and tugged the shirt down. Ryan pouted, and she relented, bussing him briskly on the cheek, above the dark line of his facial hair.

"I think Jayce made coffee," she said, reaching around and palming a handful of Ryan's rear. He grinned, both at her words and her actions. "I can smell it. Cal's on his way over, so you're going to have to make a lot of breakfast."

"What?" Ryan scratched at his scalp, yawning against his will, as he watched Jess stride out of their bedroom. "You don't really want me to make breakfast, do you?" The door closed behind her. She did. Ryan grumbled, reaching for his own Saturday morning clothing. "Well, how about some Sugar Pops and milk for everyone?" he grumbled, skinning into his jeans and loose top. "Hmph. No one should have to cook on a Saturday."

There was coffee, and Cal was already working on a huge omelet in their large, well-used wok when Ryan came out to join the small group collecting in the kitchen. Jayce was drinking orange juice at the table and Jess nursed a mug of coffee so black it was almost ebony. Ryan poured himself a cup of the powerful brew, spooning in enough sugar to make even the six year old grimace. Jess, already well used to pretty much all of Ryan's preferences, determinedly did not look in his direction.

"Aaaah," Ryan breathed in deeply, savoring the aroma. "Caffeine and sugar. What better way to start the morning?!" Well, aside from sex, he amended, but managed to keep the words internal. Not only was Jayce sitting at their table with his mostly-innocent ears, but Cal was in the room too, and the thought of Cal having sex in the morning.... Euw!! No, he just couldn't go there.

"Daddy says I can't drink coffee yet," Jayce informed him, looking faintly put out. "Even though I'm sure that I would like it."

"No coffee until you're ten," Cal instructed from his position before the stove, wielding a large spatula and a broad grin. He poked at the mass of fluffy eggs, melting cheese, sliced mushrooms, diced peppers and onions, and cubed ham that was sizzling away and filling the kitchen with incredibly delicious scents.

Ryan exchanged an amused glance with Jess. There were very few times that their neighbors disagreed on the upbringing of their son, but every once in a while Cal needed to be reminded of the responsibilities of being a parent. Somehow Ryan doubted Jayce would be allowed coffee until he was fifteen, maybe fourteen at the earliest. Rue wasn't over-protective, per se, but he was definitely overly practical sometimes.

"Speaking of Rue," Ryan said, perching on a tall stool by the bar and sipping at his well-sweetened coffee, "Where is your better half?"

Jess shot him an exasperated look. Jayce giggled into his juice. Cal didn't take any offense, but the omelet was just finished cooking and he was busy dishing it out, so maybe he hadn't noticed the crack. Or, hell, maybe he had noticed, and he agreed with the assessment.

"Rue had to go in to work this morning," Cal explained, setting a heaping plate before his son. Jess handed out forks, and Ryan went to the toaster. The omelet looked wonderful, but he couldn't eat eggs without bread. He just couldn't. At least when it was Cal making the omelet he wouldn't need to break out the ketchup.

"Ugh. Sucks to be him." Ryan accepted his own serving from Cal, gratified to note that the other man had given him as much as Jayce. He might not have any demon blood, but he wasn't about to be out-eaten by a six year old! "Still, works out for us. Mmm. Breakfast!"

Jess sighed, rolling her eyes. Ryan popped another couple pieces of bread into the toaster, buttering the two he already had thickly before joining her at the table and handing her one.

"Thanks for keeping Jayce last night," Cal said, digging into his own breakfast with enthusiasm.

"No problem," Jess grinned, reaching over and ruffling Jayce's long dark hair. The boy smiled back, his eyes gleaming. He looked wakeful enough, even without caffeine, and Ryan slugged down the last of his cooling coffee, carefully draining all of the sugar sludge at the bottom of the mug. He might need a little help of a morning, but by the time he was done with his breakfast and had a couple more cups of sugar-laced coffee in him, he ought to have no difficulty in keeping pace with Jayce!

"We were glad to have him," Jess continued, crunching her toast with straight white teeth. "So, what time did you end up getting home?"

"Not until after two," Cal replied, already finished with his eggs. He stole one of Ryan's new pieces of toast, ripping it in twain and handing half to Jayce.

"Whoosh." Jess cocked a brow. "Was Rue pissed? Did you wake him up?"

"Well." Cal's dark eyes tracked toward his son, who was blithely shoveling omelet into his mouth and following the conversation with wide eyes. "Um, you know...."

Ryan wandered over to put his plate in the sink and get himself more coffee. La-la-la, his brain sang cheerfully, making sure that he didn't hear anything that Cal had to say. He knew that their neighbors and close friends were lovers, but he didn't need to know any details. There were better things to dwell on, like how the wolf had talked to Little Red Riding Hood, claiming to be her grandmother. Had it been able to speak English? Or maybe German, if that was where the story had originated. He didn't think that wolves' mouths could form words, but he wasn't sure. And how could Red Riding Hood ever have mistaken a furry, stinky predator with pointy ears and huge fangs for her grandmother?! That must have been one uuuuuugly family!!

"Was there a lot of trouble last night, Dad?" Jayce was asking Cal when Ryan's errant brain finally wandered back to reality. Realizing he had just poured out the last of the coffee, Ryan set to brewing more.

"Nothing major," Cal replied, playing it off lightly. Ryan wasn't sure whether it was for his son's sake, or if Cal really didn't think much of any threats he encountered outside the Walls. Being nigh-on invulnerable must be a blast. Ryan was a little envious, though he wasn't so sure he'd wish to have demonic ancestry. "A pack of Scrat demons made their way a little too close to the city and had to be eliminated. They're fast and its hard to see them at night, which is why it took us so long to get them all."

"Scrat demons are really dumb, right, Dad?" Jayce asked knowledgeably. Most city-born children weren't educated on the various levels and breeds of the demons infesting the Earth, but Rue and Cal were progressive, and Jayce was too smart not to want to know exactly what they were talking about when they discussed Cal's work. Hell, even Ryan hadn't known the Scrat from the Fetish demon, though he'd spent five months at the beginning of his employment being schooled by Orion on the various kinds.

"Dumb but quick," Cal grimaced. "And there were a bunch of 'em. So they didn't know better than to come right up to the Walls, and there were enough to start with that a handful made it safely through the outer defenses. There were only a few by the time they reached my area, but like I said, it was hard to frag the last of them."

Jayce was nodding solemnly, his eyes wide. He didn't look frightened, though. He had utmost confidence in both of his fathers, and Ryan hoped that nothing would ever happen to shake that confidence.

Most kids now-a-days couldn't feel such assurance, even the ones who lived in the centermost circle of any given city... but most kids didn't have one father who was a quarter-demon and seemingly completely invulnerable, and another who was a powerful cyber-Wiccan with plenty of Powers, and a sense of responsibility that made Ryan's head hurt to contemplate.

"How long is Rue going to be at work?" Jess asked, carrying her empty plate over to the sink and then pouring herself another mug of fresh coffee.

"He wasn't sure," Cal answered with a shrug. "He said not to wait for him if we wanted to do anything, though."

"Ooh, I want to go to the Zoo!" Jayce enthused. That was usually his choice of destination when given free rein, which he never was when Rue was around. But Rue wasn't here, so maybe he had a chance.

"I want hot dogs," Ryan put in. Jess gave him a funny look, but he did; he wanted big plump hot dogs in mealy buns, chock full of meat juice and filler of questionable origin, smothered in mustard and sauerkraut! Jess wouldn't let him kiss her again for the rest of the day, but it would totally be worth it. And it was only her mouth she wouldn't let him kiss.... "And nachos!" Ryan decided. "I definitely want nachos!"

Now even Cal was looking at him funny, but Jayce was nodding, a wide grin curving his lips. "I want nachos too!"

"You just finished breakfast," Jess protested. "You can't possibly be hungry."

Jayce shook his head so briskly that the ends of his dark hair bobbed above his shoulders. "I'm not hungry now. But I will be later. And I want nachos!" He tipped his head engagingly at his father. "They have nachos at the Zoo," he said disingenuously. "And snow cones!"

"And hot dogs!" Ryan enthused.

"Please, Dad?" Jayce wheeled.

"Pleeeeeeeeaze, Jess?" Ryan whined.

Cal and Jess exchanged an exasperated glance.

"Don't you think your father will be upset if we go to the Zoo without him?" Cal asked Jayce, calm and reasonable.

Jayce shook his head again. "No. 'Cause last time we went, you and Ryan embarrassed him so bad he said he'd never go with us again. Remember?"

Cal glanced at Jess and grimaced. "Oh. Yeah...."

Ryan grinned, chuckling to himself. Now that Jayce had said that, he recalled. "Pushing" Cal into the lion pit and screaming bloody murder, running around flailing his arms. It had been a hoot, and even Jess had been laughing, but Rue had been mortified beyond belief. Ryan thought that Cal must have done something else, something worse, while he and Jess had taken Jayce on a train ride, but his brain shut down in self-preservation mode when he tried to think too hard on that.

Jess had pinned him with a laser stare, and Ryan quickly sobered. "I promise not to do anything like that this time," he vowed, seeing the prospect of hot dogs and nachos -- and snow cones! -- slipping away. "Scout's honor!" He held up three fingers, hoping they were the right ones.

Jess eyed him suspiciously. "You were never a scout," she accused.

"Not a Boy Scout," Ryan allowed, then he took on a wounded demeanor. "But I've been assigned as a scout by my unit before... and I'm a very honorable guy!"

Jess glared at him for a moment longer before breaking down and snickering.

"Woo-hoo!" Ryan leapt up, pumping a fist. "We're off to the Zoo!"

"Remember, you promised!" Jess warned him firmly. Ryan nodded fervently.

"Dad?" Jayce turned huge puppy-dog eyes on his father -- a look he had probably learned from the man himself. They worked, though, and Cal's boyishly handsome face split in a broad smile.

"All right. Let's go home and get dressed. And we'll leave Rue a note."

"Yay!" Jayce scampered for the door, Cal behind him.

"Come back over here once you're ready, and we'll all go together," Jess called after them. Cal answered back in the affirmative, and then the front door closed behind them.

"Aaaw." Ryan had just realized something.

"What?" Jess asked, rising to her feet and turning toward the bedroom.

"Well, this means I won't be able to touch your boobies until we get home," Ryan bemoaned.

Jess stared at him for a moment, expressionless, speechless. Then she smirked. "You made your choice, Batman. Hot dogs instead of boobies. Better watch out or I'll start to think you're of the same inclination as our neighbors."

"What?!" Ryan bounced up, pursuing his partner. "No! You take that back! I'm-- I'm not-- I am-- I'll touch your boobies right now!!"

"You won't," Jess informed him callously, leaning back against the closet door and tugging on her walking shoes. "No boobie-touching without permission. I will, however, buy you a couple of delicious hot dogs with everything on them."

"But... but... boobies!"

Jess chuckled. "Hot dogs for you."

Ryan pouted, flopping down on the edge of the bed. "But can't I have both?"

"Don't be greedy," Jess instructed him, running fingertips over the line of his jaw through the scruff of his beard and then leaning down to kiss him warmly. "Any guy can eat a hot dog, but you're the only one who gets to touch my boobies."

The smile didn't leave Ryan's face, even when she pegged him in the face with one of his own boots.

"Come on, big boy. Let's get you that hot dog!"

***

Everyone looked dead under florescent bathroom lights.

Rue sighed, rinsing his hands under the running water and then reluctantly raising his gaze to the mirror. His reflection looked back at him. Despite keeping late hours and working on a weekend, he looked dapper and clean-cut. There was only one problem....

His white button-up shirt at least covered the worse mark Cal had given him last night, the huge one on his neck joint. The hickey on the opposite side, however, had been too high for the collar to hide. It wasn't cool enough yet to wear a turtleneck without both broiling and exciting comment. And Rue had too much male pride to resort to using make-up to try to cover it.

He wished that he knew a spell to vanish the bruise, he thought, frustrated. But he didn't. And he had the sinking suspicion that if he were to be able to manage such a feat Cal would take it as a personal insult and mark him that much harder and deeper as soon as he noticed.

Rue splashed his face with lukewarm water, then patted it dry. If only those weren't so obviously toothmarks bracketing the livid bruise. It wasn't as though he was going to be dealing with anyone he knew well or cared about today, and it wasn't as though anyone he worked with was going to ask questions, and if they did they would only be met with a chilly silence... but it was still embarrassing. Rue liked it maintain a professional demeanor, and sporting a great big hickey in his place of employment was not very professional.

At least Elsie Brown hadn't noticed, or if she had she hadn't said anything. Her focus was mainly on herself, and for this Rue was grateful. He would also be glad when this assignment was over. He was more used to dealing with females like Jess, who was brisk, efficient, and intelligent. Jess didn't mind talking, even about subjects that she found uncomfortable, but she didn't prattle on and on, endlessly, until a trip to the men's room seemed like an escape....

Realizing that this last was true, and that he was indeed hiding out, Rue squared his shoulders and exited.

At least he was almost done here. He should be home by mid-afternoon, finished with a reasonably simple assignment, and while it wasn't going to mean a huge amount of money pumped into his account, he was being paid quite reasonably for a job that hadn't even required that he use his Powers.

"There you are!"

Rue started as someone latched onto his arm. Elsie's thin face glowed up at him, the overhead lights gleaming off of her thick glasses.

"I thought I'd lost you, that you'd gone to lunch already without me! But here you are and now we can both go together! I know this great little sandwich place just around the corner that serves just the best... well, sandwiches! And it's so cute, the decor is really retro, and did I mention that it's just a block away? You're just going to love it!"

She looked so enthusiastic that Rue hadn't the heart to turn her down. It wasn't as though she'd even hear any protests that he made, anyhow. And he had to eat.

"That sounds great, Elsie," he said, giving her a bright smile. "But do you think you could... um...." He pointed to the fingers she had wrapped around his upper arm.

She let go immediately and looked a little sheepish. "I'm sorry," she blurted, bobbing her head like a little bird. "But I was so glad to see you and I didn't want you to run off on me!"

Rue couldn't really think of anything to say to this. "Uh, I wasn't planning on it...."

Elsie colored again. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be presumptuous, but I don't really know anyone in this building and I don't like eating alone and--"

"That's all right," Rue interrupted, stemming the incoming tide of words, grinning as charmingly as he was capable. "And I'm perfectly willing to escort you to the diner of your choice. Just lead the way."

Elsie beamed at him and did as instructed, leading the way out of the Cherriots Home Office building. The day was warm and sunny with a slight breeze. Rue hoped that whatever Cal and Jayce were doing they were having a good time; he was sure they would be. Cal wasn't the sort to spend a nice Saturday in June indoors, and wherever he went, he would surely take Jayce along. Maybe they'd gone to the Zoo. That would be good, because then Jayce would stop nagging for a while and Rue wouldn't have to keep denying his son.

Rue paused a moment at the top of the four broad concrete steps that led down to street level, taking a deep breath of the warming air. The front of the building was surrounded by a wide lawn that was almost a little park, complete with cherry trees and a stone fountain that the walkway curved around on both sides. Cherriots was clearly doing well for itself.

It took Rue a moment to recognize the fact that the man standing beside the fountain had pulled a gun out from under the long camel trenchcoat he was wearing. Before he could react, before his brain even registered shock, there was the popping sound of the weapon firing. A tiny flame flashed at the muzzle and then Elsie Brown, who had made it to the base of the steps while Rue had paused, tumbled to the pavement.

The security guards who had been looking rather bored where they stood to either side of the four glass-paneled front doors were suddenly bounding down the steps to either side of Rue. But before they could reach the gun-wielder, he had already raised it to one temple and pulled the trigger. In another second he was on the ground as well, just as dead as Elsie Brown was.

Rue stood where he was. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, but shock held him riveted in place. There was no longer any danger. He stared down at the woman who had just two minutes ago been smiling and looking forward to lunch. Now she would never smile again and her blood was spilled all over the pavement... spattered on Rue's shirt and cheek, hot on his flesh but swiftly cooling as it settled into the material over his chest and arm.

Swallowing tightly, suddenly queasy, Rue turned around and headed back into the building, back into the men's room. The security personnel would contact the police and Rue would stay to talk to them, but he needed to clean off first.

He was going to miss eating lunch, but that was all right. He wasn't hungry anymore in the least.

***

"It was her ex-lover," Detective Kirke, a tall square man who looked like the career cop he was, explained, sucking on his cigarette pensively. "Barton Crummely." The afternoon was growing warm, the sun beating down without a single cloud to cut its brightness. There was some shade under the trees, just a few steps away, but the spot between the base of the steps and the fountain -- between the murder and the suicide -- was where the man he was speaking to had chosen to stand.

Hover was more like it; Rue Pierce looked ready to blow away with the slightest breeze. Detective Kirke felt more than a little sorry for him.

By all accounts, including his own, this Pierce fellow had been only a few steps away from Elsie Brown when a hole had been blown through her head, front to back. Detective Kirke could actually see the dark stains of blood marring the otherwise pristine white of the man's shirt, although an effort had clearly been made to blot them off. Blood wasn't so easy to remove, though, Detective Kirke knew. Neither was the memory of seeing someone killed before one's very eyes. And it wasn't even because of a demon. No, another human being had done this.

Detective Kirke hated being called to things like this; murders that could have been prevented by just a little bit of common sense on the part of the victim... and yet love so rarely involved common sense.

"Crummely had been stalking Elsie, but it was evidently her engagement to another man that drove him to this," he continued. Rue Pierce was nodding, his face pale and his blue-green eyes too bright, his expression focused but fixed. Detective Kirke flicked his cigarette butt away. There was a dark stain on the walkway near them, and another beside the fountain, but he had no doubt that the Cherriots staff would have them both cleaned as swiftly as was possible. Bad for business, blood stains were.

"He'd already shot her fiancee, one Owen Scott," he continued to explain. "Before he even made it to his car to head for work this morning. Scott's in intensive care with a bullet in his lung, but he's likely to recover. Poor bastard."

Detective Kirke shook his head. Not that he would wish death on an innocent victim, but he wondered whether Owen Scott would consider himself truly lucky to be a survivor; the only survivor in this nasty little tangle. Well, maybe. After he was through with his mourning.

Rue Pierce was nodding, gazing at him as though he expected more, but that was all there was to the tale. There wouldn't be any arrest, since Crummely had committed suicide. Detective Kirke had taken this Pierce fellow's statement. He'd get one from Scott once he was capable of speech. All that was left was contacting the next of kin for both Brown and Crummely, and writing up his report. Those chores probably wouldn't take him more than a quarter of an hour, half an hour at the most, once he got back to the station.

"Murder. Suicide. What a waste." Detective Kirke lit up another cigarette. "Enough people don't get eaten by demons every day, we gotta start killing each other?!"

"Is that everything, Detective Kirke?" Pierce asked politely. He didn't seem to know what to do with his hands, but other than the wideness of his eyes and the pallor of his cheeks, he seemed to be handling all of this reasonably well.

Of course, it was probably a facade, delayed shock. Even though he had said that he hadn't known the victim well, she had been shot close enough to him that he had been hit with her blood. Rue Pierce should probably be counseled to seek a therapist, or at least sent home in a cab, but that wasn't really in Detective Kirke's sphere of duty.

"Well, I've gotten everything I can from you," Detective Kirke said, gesturing broadly with his smoking cigarette. "And you've given me your number in case I need you later. You should go home. Get some rest."

Rue Pierce shook his head, a strange sporadic gesture. "No. I haven't finished my work here. I need to do that before I can leave."

"Hmph." Detective Kirke let his gaze linger over the dark stains spotting the man's shirt. "Well, if it was me, I'd say to hell with the job, go home and shower, and get into a pair of comfy peejays." He blew smoke out his nostrils, his mouth firm. "You gotta lover? Kids?"

"I have-- I've got a son," Pierce answered choppily, a matching pair of lines creasing the otherwise smooth skin between his brows. He was a handsome man with cheekbones a model -- male or female -- would kill for, looked smart, intelligent. He was well dressed, aside from the blood on his shirt. Detective Kirke thought that he was going to be all right, though that didn't mean that he wasn't going to need to talk this over with someone; preferably with someone who cared about him.

"Well, you should head for home soon," Detective Kirke instructed, taking a thoughtful drag on his cigarette. He rolled the smoke over his tongue for a moment before exhaling. His own lover had told him often that he ought to quit, but he felt as though he needed the one crutch. "Go home, work done or not, and give your kid a hug. That's my advice."

Rue Pierce blinked, looked for a moment as though he was going to argue, and then his face softened. "I...." He licked his lips, then gave Detective Kirke the shadow of what was probably usually a stunning smile. "You're right. I mean... I'm going to finish up here first. But I think I will...."

"Good boy!" Detective Kirke gave Rue Pierce a small pat on the shoulder. "Now I gotta go and get this thing typed up. You take care now."

Rue Pierce nodded again, a little more naturally, and then turned toward the building. Detective Kirke shook his head, watching him go. Really, if it was him he'd already be out of that shirt, even if it meant walking around bare above the waist. But Pierce either had balls of steel or a more well developed sense of propriety. Either way he had Detective Kirke's sympathy, but now there was a report to be typed up.

Just another stain on the state of humans being human. Detective Kirke dealt with it every day. No wonder he needed to smoke. Nicotine didn't make anything better, but it at least afforded a little stress relief.

Still, the next time Adrian nagged at him to quit... maybe he would.

***

"What was your favorite part, Jayce?" Jess asked, leaning around the seat to peer into the back of the Jeep Grand Cherokee. Ryan was driving and Cal sat behind the passenger chair, Jayce beside him.

"The train ride!" Jayce enthused. "It was like the ride to visit Gramma and Grampa, only the windows were open and we rode past all the animals!"

Jess grinned at his enthusiasm, then craned to look at his father. "Hey Cal, you okay?" she prodded, sounding faintly concerned.

"Eh?" Cal started, distracted from staring out the window. He had been plucking at his lower lip, his eyes unfocused. There was something niggling at him, something that had coiled in the pit of his belly a little bit before noon and had settled in there to fill it with nervous flutters. Something felt wrong, but it wasn't a strong enough feeling that he could pin it down to any one cause. The trip to the Zoo had been fun. Jayce had had a blast, Ryan had gotten his hot dogs and nachos, and Cal had stayed out of trouble.

Jess raised a brow at him in a silent query. Her green eyes were sharp, seeing more, perhaps, than Cal was comfortable with. He offered her a quick smile, doing his best to dispel the aura of gloom that he knew he was exuding. If only it were so easy to banish the feelings themselves.

"I'm fine," he assured her, raising his hand and waggling his fingers. He thought that his smile was natural, but she still gave him a skeptical look before turning back to the front.

"It's too bad Rue didn't come today," she said, propping her booted feet up on the dashboard. "Seeing as you and Ryan were actually able to behave yourselves. But then again, maybe you both just get into trouble to embarrass him. Wouldn't that be kind of cruel?"

"I never get into trouble on purpose!" Cal protested, appalled by the very suggestion.

"Aw, there's no skill in embarrassing Rue," Ryan argued, fingers dancing impatiently over the steering wheel. Despite his ticks and twitches he was actually a very safe driver, and he flipped on the turn signal well ahead of the turn off to the street that they all lived on. "It's too easy. It'd be like, you know, shooting pigs in a barrel."

"That's fish," Jess informed him, a chuckle in her voice. "Fish in a barrel, dummy. And you're right, sadly. All you have to do is be yourself and you manage to do embarrassing things."

"Do I embarrass you?" Ryan wanted to know, sounding curious, not at all worried or wounded. He pulled into their driveway and turned off the Jeep.

"Only when you're awake, hon," Jess assured him, reaching over to pat his muscle-bound shoulder before she threw open her door and hopped out.

"Oh, well, that's a relief." Ryan exited the vehicle, then opened the door for Jayce. "Come on, sport!"

Cal unfolded his six foot, four inch frame from the backseat, standing for a moment and looking toward the house that he and Jayce shared with Rue. It was only four-thirty in the afternoon, the sun still high in the sky. There wasn't anything about the house that looked in any way different than normal, but Cal was suddenly anxious to get home. He didn't like leaving Rue behind for an outing, even though he'd had work today and Jayce had enjoyed it so much. Cal wondered for half an instant whether it was possible to be too well mated, but dismissed the very thought in the next moment as ridiculous. There was nothing wrong with missing Rue when they'd been apart almost the entire day. And nothing wrong with being in a hurry to get back to him.

"Come on, Jayce," he said, walking around the back of the car and holding out his hands. Even though he was six, Jayce leapt eagerly for his father's arms and squealed happily as Cal hefted him up against his chest, way up in the air so far as the boy was concerned. Cal turned to smile at Jess and Ryan. "Thanks, guys. For the trip to the Zoo, and for keeping Jayce last night. We owe you a dinner, but...."

"But not tonight," Jess put in, giving him a warm grin. She waved a hand. "An entire day is just about all that I would inflict Ryan on anyone other than myself."

Cal protested, naturally, but Ryan just waved and beamed goofily.

"Do I get to touch your boobies now?" Cal heard him ask as the four turned to head to their respective domiciles. He speeded his step, and it wasn't to prevent Jayce from being corrupted. It was just easier and more comfortable for him to think of Jess as "one of the guys". He didn't need to hear about her boobs or Ryan's desire to touch them.

"Do you think Daddy's home?" Jayce asked Cal as he shifted his son to sit on one arm while he reached into his pocket for the keys. "I wish he could've come with us. It was so much fun!"

"He should be home," Cal answered, unlocking the front door. "Take your shoes off," he instructed, letting Jayce down in the entryway area. There wasn't any strict rule about the removal of footwear, but it did save the thick carpet that all three of them generally removed their boots or shoes either in the entryway or the utility area.

Jayce quickly kicked off his sandals and scampered into the house. Cal had to unlace his sneakers, so he took a moment longer. The washer and dryer were both going in the utility room; he could hear them thumping away behind the door to his left, could smell the detergent and softener. The rest of the house was quiet and Cal started to wonder if Rue was maybe still at work after all. But if he'd started the laundry, was on the second load, then....

The door to Rue's study was open but he wasn't in there, not that Cal had expected him to be. Pausing between the kitchen entry and the living room, Cal glanced left, then right, seeking. The kitchen was dark, empty. There were no lights on in the living room, either, but the sunlight was streaming in through the bay window, and there Rue was, curled in the corner of their oversized sofa.

Cal took a moment; he so rarely got to see Rue quiet and off guard. Jayce had evidently scooted right across to his own bedroom -- Cal could hear him thumping around in the closet -- and Rue looked sleepy, as though their son's passage had awakened him from a light doze.

He was mated to a truly attractive man, Cal thought, deeply satisfied by this fact. Rue's chestnut hair was damp, tumbling toward those amazing cheekbones in dark waves that were almost but not quite curls. His pale, aqua-blue eyes were heavy lidded, his full lips in repose looking lush and eminently kissable. Cal thought that Rue was more beautiful than any woman he had ever seen, and yet he was completely masculine.

The fact that Rue was utterly unaware of his own looks bemused Cal and occasionally frustrated him. Especially since Rue didn't understand why Cal had to mark him in all the ways that he did in order to keep him safe from any other Nephilim of full or partial blood that he might run across while working for Orion. Well, not that Cal wouldn't have done so anyway. That smooth golden skin was just a temptation too powerful for Cal to resist.

Rue was yawning, running a hand through his hair. His knees were drawn up to his chest, bare feet tucked underneath him on the sofa. He was wearing a pair of soft sweatpants -- the same ones Cal had pulled off of him last night -- and one of Cal's long-sleeve tops. Perhaps all of his own shirts were in the wash. Or... just maybe...? Did Cal dare to hope that it might be for another reason?

Seeing Rue wearing one of Cal's shirts made love leap in his heart and desire spark in his loins, as it always did on the rare occasions that he was treated to the sight. The shirt, form fitting on Cal, was large and somewhat loose on Rue's wiry frame, the sleeves falling to hide his graceful wrists. He wasn't a small man, but he wasn't as tall or broad-shouldered as Cal was.

Cal held back from acting on his immediate impulse -- which would have been and had been in the past to tumble Rue back into the sofa cushions, whether Jayce was in the house or not -- because there was something wrong. He could read it in Rue's face, see it in his posture, and scent it in the air.

"Hi, Daddy!" Jayce padded out of his bedroom, making Cal glad he hadn't acted on his instincts. Jayce was aware, in a child's way, of what they did and why they did it, and he had caught them locked together in various ways more than once in the past, but Cal really didn't want the boy to become overly educated just because he was lacking in self control. "You missed a great day at the Zoo!"

"Hey, Jayce." Rue smiled at his son, though the warmth of it didn't quite fill his eyes. Cal stayed where he was, watching. He would tell that Rue was honestly glad to see Jayce, but there was still something wrong. And he couldn't figure out what it was, which disconcerted him, being used as he was to being able to read his mate like the proverbial book.

Rue uncoiled, one foot on the floor, the other staying tucked under the opposite knee. "Come here, baby," he requested, holding out one hand and calling Jayce the nickname they'd both stopped using -- at their son's request -- somewhere around his fourth birthday.

Jayce cocked his head, pausing at the arm of sofa that Rue wasn't leaning back against, then hopping up onto the cushions and crawling easily across the length of the sofa and into Rue's arms. Cal was sure that Jayce could sense there was something wrong too. Jayce may not have the animal instincts and the ability to read body language and scents like Cal did, but Cal and Rue both suspected that he was slightly empathetic.

Cal stepped quietly into the living room as Rue folded Jayce into an embrace that was almost painfully tight at first before loosening. Jayce hugged Rue back, tucking his head into his father's shoulder. He was totally compliant, doubtless recognizing that Rue needed this. Not that Jayce was ever adverse to cuddles, with either parent.

Rue pressed his face into Jayce's dark hair, kissed his son's temple, then rested one cheek atop the crown of Jayce's head. Cal slipped silently onto the other side of the sofa, sitting as close to Rue's feet as he dared.

"Did you have a bad day, Daddy?" Jayce asked solicitously.

"Kind of," Rue replied softly, the fingers of one hand running through Jayce's soft hair. He looked a lot younger and more vulnerable than Cal was used to seeing him; at least while he was awake. "Yeah. You could say that."

"I'm sorry," Jayce commiserated, patting Rue on the shoulder. "I wish you could've gone to the Zoo with us."

Rue chuckled, though it was sort of a weak sound. He was cradling Jayce against him the way he hadn't really done since the boy was a toddler. Of course, that was partially Jayce's doing -- he was an active child who always wanted to be out and about, doing things.

Usually when Jayce and Rue cuddled, Cal took advantage and joined them. Ostentatiously to snuggle with Jayce, though he almost always took care to invade Rue's half of the triple-hug. Today, however, he didn't quite know if he should. Rue already seemed to be on edge, emotionally fragile, and Cal wasn't comfortable with the prospect of making things worse.

When Rue told him "no" and fought him... when Cal ignored that and laid hands on him anyway... it was because that was what Rue's body was telling him that it really wanted, despite what his mouth said. Right now, Cal wasn't sure what he was reading off of his mate. Rue seemed to need something. Comfort, perhaps, or assurance? But maybe he was getting all of that he needed from Jayce. Cal couldn't quite read Rue, not without knowing what had happened at work today, and so he couldn't judge what he ought to do.

"Daddy?" Jayce queried, raising his head and twisting his neck to look at his father.

"It's all right," Rue husked, shifting Jayce closer and kissing his temple again. "It'll be all right. Just... someone told me today to give you a hug. So I am."

"Did Gramma call?" Jayce wondered, surprising a small laugh out of Rue.

"No, it wasn't her," he replied, sounding a little more himself, a little less breathless. "It wasn't anyone you know, Jayce. But he was right."

"Hm. Okay." Jayce shifted to make himself more comfortable against Rue's chest, seeming more than willing to settle in for the long haul.

Rue kept the boy pulled close, one hand still stroking Jayce's long hair. Before long Jayce began drowsing, his lids flickering closed over dark eyes. He had been very active at the Zoo, as well as having a busy evening and a late bedtime the day before, so it wasn't too surprising that he was falling asleep now.

Cal slipped down off of the sofa, kneeling beside Rue. Placing one hand delicately over Rue's on Jayce's shoulder, he reached with the other to touch Rue's hair, his cheekbone, then rested fingertips on the sharp line of his jaw as he leaned forward to brush his lips lightly against Rue's.

"You all right?" he asked earnestly, keeping his voice low to avoid disturbing their son.

Rue nodded, his eyes wide now, but he didn't try to pull away from Cal's touch. "I'm not hurt," he said. "Don't worry."

Cal frowned. Asking him not to worry when Rue was so obviously unsettled -- and Rue was never this upset without a damned good reason -- was like asking him to stop breathing. It wasn't anything he could consciously do, even if he wanted to.

"No one hurt you?" he pursued, trying to imbue the question with all the layers of meaning that it held naturally. There were, after all, different ways of being wounded. And no one had better have deliberately damaged his mate! He'd kill for that sin!

Rue's beautiful lips quirked in what was almost an honest grin, though there was still something tight about the skin surrounding his eyes. This close Cal could smell something... off, in Rue's natural scent. It wasn't a bad smell. Not really. But it was different, wrong, and he didn't like it.

"No one hurt me, Cal," Rue said precisely. "Don't worry so much."

Cal stared at him fixedly, knowing that Rue wasn't lying, but neither was he telling the full truth. He wanted to push, to pry, to get the full story from Rue. But Jayce was lying against his chest like a shield, and this was probably for the best. Rue didn't look as though he would respond well to any badgering on Cal's part. Whatever had happened, he wasn't going to tell Cal right now. Even if he maybe should.

"Shall I order dinner?" Cal finally asked, tilting his head to one side. "You up for Chinese?"

Rue nodded. "That sounds good. I didn't... I didn't eat any lunch today...."

Cal's dark brows creased thickly as Rue's gaze wandered off, over the opposite end of the sofa and toward the kitchen, though, really, he wasn't seeing anything. There was something wrong, Rue wouldn't tell him what, and Cal couldn't ask or make it right. He felt frustrated and impotent -- something he wasn't used to feeling. Food was a refuge, maybe, but it was the best he could do right now. And by the time the order arrived and they woke Jayce, he was sure that their son would be ready to eat too.

Reversing his earlier touch, Cal swept his fingers over Rue's jaw, cheekbone, then ran a hand over his thick chestnut hair. "Rue," he murmured, recapturing his mate's attention. When Rue turned his face back toward Cal, he claimed another quick kiss. Rue didn't quite kiss back, but he was receptive, his lips soft and parted beneath Cal's mouth.

This was unusual as well, and Cal stood quickly, striding into the kitchen before he shook Rue, demanding to know what had happened. He didn't want to disturb Jayce or upset Rue further. So he'd best put some distance between them.

Flicking on the overhead lights, Cal leaned up against the counter and grabbed the phone. They had almost all the nearby eateries on speed dial, and he chose their favorite Chinese place, waiting on hold for a couple of minutes -- well, it was getting close to dinner time on a Saturday evening -- then placing their usual huge order. Between himself and Jayce, they must keep most of the restaurants in the area in business, and Rue ate a healthy amount for a man of his size. Well, nothing wrong with enjoying food, Cal thought, and he was certainly wasn't packing anything softer than solid muscle on his tall frame. And Jayce was a growing boy, one who was one-eighth Nephilim.

After placing the order and verifying the payment, Cal hung up and went to the fridge for a bottle of water. He was still concerned about Rue, but couldn't think of anything further he could do. Something had happened. Something... but he didn't know how to find out what. He didn't even know what company Rue had been contracted out to this time.

Convincing himself that he wasn't avoiding the living room, that he wasn't feeling increasingly impotent, Cal wandered out the other side of the kitchen and entered the utility room.

It was a mess, and he made a mental note to get in here with Jayce and clean up their toys before Rue came down on them for it. The chances that he would remember weren't as high as he would like, he had to admit to himself, but at least he had good intentions. And if he did forget, he could tell Rue honestly that he had meant to do it, whenever Rue nailed him for it in the future.

Both the washer and the dryer were done, and Cal piled warm, clean clothing into one of the empty hampers before pulling the wet laundry out of the washer and throwing it in the dryer. There was another hamper piled with dirty clothes, but Cal didn't touch that. The last time he had tried to wash clothes, Rue had made him swear never to do it again. Along with cooking anything more complex than an omelet, it was just something that Cal wasn't good at. He was more than willing to accept his limitations, and with Rue in a odd, strangely sad mood, he wasn't about to risk flooding the utility room floor with slippery suds.

Finishing off his water, Cal stepped over to the garage door, intending to put the bottle in the recycling bin before taking the clean, dry clothes into the house proper. If Rue was still curled up with Jayce on the sofa, Cal would have to fold them himself, but he thought that he could do that, even if it wouldn't be as good a job as Rue usually did. At least it would be something to keep him occupied until their dinner arrived.

The recycling bin was beside the garbage, right next to the door between the garage and the utility room. Cal dropped his empty bottle in, then paused a moment, in the warmth and silence of the garage.

There was something.... His nostrils flared and he lifted the lid off of the garbage bin so fast he almost broke the hinge.

The white button-up shirt that Rue had worn to work that day was lying on top of the neatly tied plastic bags waiting for pick up. Cal stared at it a moment, figuring that he had solved part of the puzzle... only now there were even more questions. Questions that only Rue could answer, and that Rue was going to have to answer. Because Cal wasn't going to let him get away with not answering.

At least it wasn't Rue's blood. He'd spoken the truth when he had said that no one had hurt him -- not that he could have lied to Cal and gotten away with it. But something bad had happened, and Cal was going to find out why Rue had come home with blood that wasn't his on his shirt.

Storming back into the living room was easy enough. Cal was worried and a little hurt and those emotions could so readily be interpreted as anger. But Cal was above all else honest with himself and those around him. The anger had melted away, along with most of the hurt, by the time he came into sight of his mate and their son. He was still worried, but that was only natural. He had already been worried; at least now he knew what questions to ask in order to get Rue to answer truthfully. And it wasn't as though Rue had lied to him, though he'd certainly been withholding information. But there had been Jayce's presence to be taken into account....

Cal knelt where he had knelt before. Rue's eyes were a little too bright, his cheeks a little pale, his lips pulled a little tight, but he already looked better and more relaxed for holding Jayce close to him.

"Jayce is more than half asleep," Cal reported, keeping his voice low, as though the boy's soft, steady breathing and the limp weight of his body weren't enough to let Rue know that. "As long as we speak quietly, he won't hear us. Now, tell me what happened today. I found your shirt," he added, in case Rue still harbored thoughts of holding out on him.

Rue met Cal's gaze, his pale blue-green eyes wide, a muscle in his jaw jumping. For an aching moment, he looked trapped, then resignation and something that Cal didn't hesitate to label as relief flooded his features. His taut shoulders slumped, and he turned his face away again, but this time not truly to avoid Cal's eyes.

"It wasn't.... It was just something that happened," he said, sounding weary. Cal carefully slipped an arm behind Rue's back, hoping he wasn't making the wrong move. Evidently it hadn't been, as Rue continued; "A woman I'd been working with was shot by an ex-lover."

Cal waited, but that was evidently all of the story he was going to get. He blinked. Rue was rubbing Jayce's back in careful circles through the material of his shirt and the boy had legitimately fallen asleep. Cal wished that he could collect Rue into his arms and hold him the way he was holding Jayce, but that would wake their son and might disturb Rue more than comfort him.

"She's dead?" Cal ventured. There wasn't much basis for this guess, just from a few spots of blood on Rue's discarded shirt. But the drops had been rather far apart, indicating some serious violence in the actual attack, and besides, Cal didn't think Rue would be this upset if she was going to be all right.

Rue nodded, his expression vague, almost dreamy. Cal reaching his free hand, cupping his lover's jaw and pulling Rue's face around to him.

"You okay?" he asked, thumb stroking the sharp jut of Rue's cheekbone.

"I'm fine," Rue answered, a little too quickly. "I already told you that. I barely knew her. I wasn't hurt. He killed himself right after he shot her."

Cal blinked. Whether Rue had known the woman well or not, it was still a traumatic experience to see someone killed. Cal had seen plenty of violence in his life, working outside the Walls as he had been for the past five years, but most of it had been against demons. Co-workers had been hurt, sometimes badly, but they were all Orion operatives. They knew what the job entailed and they had taken it with the confidence that they could handle it. Murder and then suicide... those were much harder to deal with. Humans shouldn't kill each other. And especially not in front of Rue, though Cal had to admit that this last thought was indicative of more than a little bias on his part.

There was a large cushion between Rue and the arm of the sofa. After a moment's deliberation, Cal removed this, insinuating himself smoothly in its place. Rue tensed up for a heartbeat, and Jayce murmured where he was drooling on his father's shoulder, but then Cal tugged Rue back against his chest, wrapping both of his loved ones up in a warm embrace, and they settled down.

Cal was silent. He wanted to speak comforting words to Rue, but if he tried it would all sound like platitudes, and he doubted that the other man would take that well. Rue was so prickly and would get his back up if he even suspected that he was being condescended to. Not that Cal would mean it that way, but he'd been with Rue long enough to know what to avoid.

Jayce huffed, his limbs jerking slightly, and turned his head in the opposite direction, all while remaining sound asleep. Rue rubbed his narrow back lightly, soothing both of them with the motion. Cal had one arm around Rue's torso, his hand resting below Rue's on their son's back. With the other he touched Rue's hair softly. He wished that he could kiss his mate, but Rue's head was resting on his shoulder and he actually seemed to have calmed down enough that Cal was reluctant to do anything to break the mood.

"Is that... what love is really about?" Rue murmured, sounding almost as though he was speaking to himself. "Not being able to let go? Not wanting the other person to be happy without you?"

"Absolutely not," Cal said firmly, with all the confidence that he felt. He knew that he was right, and he didn't like to think of Rue having the wrong idea. "That's not love. That's obsession. Love is being willing to let go if you need to.... Even if it means the one you love being happy with someone else. Although," he couldn't help adding, "If you hadn't loved me back, I would have had to find some way to make you love me."

Rue didn't respond to this, and Cal was afraid that he had said too much.... But Rue's body remained relaxed against his. Maybe it was only because of Jayce that he didn't try to struggle free, but whatever the reason, Cal was grateful. Rue had reacted so badly the first time Cal had told him he loved him that he'd never tried again. Not while Rue was awake, anyway. But even though they didn't say the words, Cal never doubted that there was love between them; as there should be between life-mates. Otherwise Rue would have kicked him out years ago, even if he was Jayce's "real" father.

Although, so far as all three of them were concerned, Rue was as much Jayce's father as Cal was. After all, he'd been Jayce's godfather and had adopted the boy at the age of one, when his mother had died. Just because Cal had shown up and lived with them now, that didn't cancel Rue's rights as Jayce's father... at least, that was Cal's thinking on the matter. He was a little foggy on the actual legal details, but if he was wrong he didn't want to know. Because he liked the idea that Jayce was equal parts their child. And Rue had certainly been a wonderful parent to Jayce in the three years before Cal had finally found his son... as well as the two years since.

"She had a fiancee," Rue suddenly spoke up, keeping his voice low to avoid waking Jayce. "He was shot too, but he's going to live."

"That's--" Cal cut himself off. Usually the news that someone who was hurt was going to be all right was a good thing, but in this case, not so much. He tried to imagine how it would feel to live on after a loved one was killed, but his brain completely and utterly shut down before he could put either Rue or Jayce into that thought, to the point that he only heard white noise for a few seconds. He couldn't... he wouldn't.... There was no WAY anything was going to happen to Rue or to Jayce, ever! The part of him that couldn't visualize this scenario let him know with complete certainty that he wouldn't be able to survive without Rue. He just... wouldn't.

Jayce squeaked, starting awake, and Rue made a discontent sound, pulling away from Cal slightly. Cal hadn't realized until that moment that he'd suddenly tightened his arm, squeezing them both a little too tightly.

"Is it dinner time yet?" Jayce asked sleepily, sitting up on Rue's lap and scrubbing at his eyes, then the corner of his mouth.

Rue reached to smooth their son's mussed hair with a graceful hand. "Cal ordered it... didn't you?"

Cal nodded, hoping that he could still hold onto Rue even though Jayce was awake now. "Chinese sound good?" he asked Jayce, offering his son a small grin.

"Did you get egg rolls?" Jayce wanted to know, his eyes brightening. His cheeks were pink with sleep flush, and he looked so adorable that Cal just wanted to squish him and kiss him all over his cute little face.

"Of course," he assured Jayce, reaching around Rue and running a hand over the boy's head. They were, in this moment, an entirely functional family, and Cal savored the thought. Even though it had been because of something bad that had happened to Rue, it still made him feel a warm swell of emotion inside. He wished things could be like this always.

Naturally, it was at this point that the doorbell rang.

Jayce cheered, squirming down off of Rue and scampering toward the front door. Cal didn't want to move, but knew that Rue wouldn't stay now that their son was gone. He shifted them both, settling Rue back against the sofa while he himself rose. Remaining bent over the other man, Cal grasped Rue's face gently and planted a quick but thorough kiss on his mouth.

"Daaa~d!!" Jayce called from the entryway. Cal had already paid for the food, but with an order of that size there would be more than one six year old boy could carry. Besides, Cal liked to always tip the driver, who was a young father saving for a house of his own.

"Come into the kitchen," Cal instructed, kissing Rue again, his hands caressing his mate's shoulders through the material of his shirt, before straightening. "It's time to eat. And then I'll help fold the clothes."

"The clothes!"

"I got them in the dryer," Cal reported, helping Rue rise to his feet. "Don't worry."

"There's another load--" Rue began, but Cal interrupted him.

"That can wait until after dinner. Food first."

"DAD!!"

Rue grimaced, but he didn't pull his hand away from Cal's as the bigger man clasped his wrist gently, tugging him toward where Jayce was dancing impatiently, peering around the corner and gesturing at them both.

"Coming, Jayce," Cal assured his son, then he turned to flash a fang at Rue, letting a possessive spark light his eyes. "Besides, I like seeing you in my clothes. It's really sexy."

Rue's mouth fell open in indignation, but before he could protest, they reached the entryway and Jayce shoved a bag full of fragrant, steaming boxes into his hands. "Here, Daddy!"

Cal moved smoothly to tip the driver, taking another bag. Jayce hefted the last one, all but shooing both of his fathers into the kitchen.

"Food, food, food!!"

It was comforting to see Rue smile at Jayce's boundless enthusiasm. And the thought of those egg rolls made Cal's stomach rumble. With good food and loved ones, Cal was convinced that most of life's troubles could be made better.

Now he just hoped that he could convince Rue of the same thing.

***

Rue stifled a yawn, feeling his eyelids drooping heavily. Jayce was a warm weight in his arms once again, head resting on his shoulder, breathing in soft little huffs that wasn't quite snoring. It was early yet for a Saturday night -- only nine o'clock when Jayce was usually allowed to stay up until midnight or later -- but by all accounts Jayce had been a busy boy ever since Jess and Ryan was picked him up from school the afternoon of the day before.

Cal was solid, radiating heat and comfort, and all around him. Rue was seated beside him on the sofa but leaning against his chest, Cal's arms encircling both himself and Jayce. This position ought to have been uncomfortable, but Rue found himself sinking deeper into the embrace, becoming more and more relaxed, until he almost thought that he might follow Jayce into slumber.

There was a program on the television, but Cal was the only one of them really watching it.

Rue couldn't seem to concentrate on anything more complex than the sound of Jayce breathing and the way that Cal's chest and arm were rock-hard beneath him and yet seemed as comfortable as the sofa cushions would have. Cal's hand was resting on the thigh that Jayce wasn't draped over, his fingers long and supple, his palm heavy and warm.

Cal laughed at something on the program, and Jayce twitched, his fingers plucking at the material of Cal's shirt, which Rue was still wearing.

"We should get him to bed," Cal suggested softly in Rue's ear, his breath stirring the hair behind it and raising shivers over the surface of Rue's skin.

"He's all right here," Rue protested, hitching Jayce more closely to him. But he knew that Cal was right, and he was only stalling because he didn't want this moment to end. It felt good to hold Jayce and be held by Cal. He could admit it, and he didn't want it to turn into a fight over Cal's determination to screw him once their boy was in bed....

Instead of answering, Cal removed himself from behind Rue, leaving his back cold and making his breath catch unhappily. Jayce was plucked easily from his arms, and Cal carted the boy toward his bedroom.

Rue jumped up off the sofa and trailed after his two men. Jayce snoozed on Cal's wide shoulder, and Rue could see in his delicate features the baby that he had once been. It made his heart ache with nostalgia, if only for a few beats. Then they were in Jayce's room, and Rue glanced around, telling himself that he was going to make sure that he and Jayce spent a couple of hours tomorrow getting things tidied up.

Working smoothly as a team, Rue and Cal got the bedcovers pulled back, Jayce undressed, into his pajamas, and slid him between the sheets all without waking the boy. As soon as he was under the blankets, Jayce curled on his side, tucking the covers close under his chin.

"Good thing he brushed his teeth after dinner," Cal chuckled in Rue's ear. Rue shot him an irritated look that he didn't really mean, then bent to give Jayce a kiss good-night.

"I always have him brush his teeth after dinner," Rue whispered back as Cal moved to follow his example. Shaking his head he stalked out of Jayce's bedroom, snagging a plate and a mug off of the desk to carry into the kitchen. They were lenient on the matter of food and drink in the bedroom, but Jayce was supposed to take care of these things himself. Still, he hadn't been home last night, and had been out or in the living room most of the day, so he guessed that a little slack could be afforded.

Rue sighed, dropping the plate and mug into the sink full of soapy water and their dinner dishes. They'd be better off soaking, and he didn't feel up to loading the dishwasher tonight.

The flesh at the nape of his neck prickled even before two powerful arms came around from behind him, folding him back against Cal's broad chest. The larger man was warm, he was always warm, but right now Rue didn't mind that. One of Cal's huge hands rested over the point of his pelvis, the other spread over his chest, over his heart. Rue stood where he was, allowing Cal to just hold him, though he reserved the right to wriggle free if Cal began in any way molesting him.

"Are you feeling better now?" Cal asked softly, nuzzling at the sensitive skin behind Rue's ear. Rue caught his lower lip between his teeth and restrained a small shudder. He lifted a hand to press over the one Cal had on his chest, their fingers almost twining.

"Yes," he answered honestly, surprising himself. For all his protestations that he had been all right, the fact that he had needed so badly to cuddle with Jayce, the fact that he was currently allowing Cal to wrap him up like that... these things indicated to him that he had perhaps not been as "all right" as he had wanted to convince himself that he was.

"Good," Cal murmured, lipping at the rim of his ear. The hand on his hip slid upward, underneath the hem of Cal's shirt, until those fine fingers were tracing over the muscles of his belly. Rue tensed, ready to fight his way free if need be. "Did I tell you that you look sexy in my shirt?"

"Cal...." Rue shifted, clutching at the edge of the sink with both hands. "You're not...."

"No, I'm not," Cal replied, unexpectedly. He removed his hands from Rue's belly and chest, turning him within the circle of his arms before wrapping him up again, pulling him close against his chest. Rue glanced up apprehensively, his hands resting over Cal's pectorals, ready to push away, for what little good it might do him. "You've told me more than once to use my words, so I am. I just wanted to let you know how hot I think you look right now."

Rue flushed, lowering his eyes to Cal's chin, to his wide white grin, punctuated by those sharp, shiny fangs. Women were supposed to look sexy in their men's clothing. He was no woman. And yet in their relationship, he was indisputably in the woman's role. He frowned, irritated by the thought and yet not willing to take it out on Cal, like he usually did.

Cal was the source of all of his embarrassments and insecurities.... But Cal was also always there for him, helping to raise Jayce, acting as a friend and confidant.... They got along perfectly well whenever sex wasn't involved, and Rue was honest enough to admit that to himself.

It kept coming back to Elsie Brown and watching the back of her head explode. She'd been about to start a life with a man she loved. Maybe it wouldn't have worked, maybe he would have disappointed her as all the previous men in her life had done. But she would never have the chance now to find out.

Cal had never disappointed Rue. He'd embarrassed him, irritated him, and they never could come to an agreement in the bedroom.... A few times Cal had outright humiliated him in public. But never, never had he disappointed Rue, and Rue could trust that Cal never would.

"Rue?"

Catching his breath, Rue raised his face. "That's all right, Cal. I don't...." He could feel the heat filling his cheeks, and he couldn't meet Cal's eyes. "I don't mind you... saying so...."

He half expected to find himself shoved back against the counter, fending off unwanted amorous advances. It was actually rather disconcerting that this was not the case.

One of Cal's hands cupped his jaw, lifting his head so that Cal could bend and press their lips together. The pad of his thumb tracked over Rue's cheekbone, the callused flesh rasping not unpleasantly. Cal's other hand slid down, gingerly caressing the swell of Rue's rear through the material of his sweatpants.

Cal's mouth moved over his, the kiss soft, almost chaste, his tongue touching the crease between Rue's lips but not dipping inside. Rue stayed still, a little confused, but gratified that Cal wasn't trying to force him....

"Let's go to bed," Cal whispered against Rue's mouth, the words gusting hot and moist over his lips. His fingers flexed on Rue's ass, drawing him into the sway of his hips.

"Just to bed?" Rue whispered back. His eyes flickered open as Cal straightened, looking down at him with an earnest dark brown gaze.

"If that's what you want," Cal replied softly, his fingers brushing over Rue's tingling lips. He nearly reeled when Cal let him loose, then he looked down in startlement as Cal's hand clasped his.

"Cal?"

"Come on," Cal urged, drawing him out of the kitchen and toward the bedroom.

After a moment, Rue closed his fingers around Cal's. He had until they reached the bedroom to decide. He wondered what he was going to do.

"Although," Cal commented thoughtfully, glancing over his shoulder at Rue, a bright gleam in his eyes as they made their way down the hall. "You might want to get out of that shirt, if you don't want to be pounced into the mattress first thing."

Sometimes a decision didn't have to be made. Sometimes things just were the way they were.

Rue bared his teeth at Cal. "Just try it!"

=+=