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The electronics store was the last shop they needed to go to and that was a relatively painless process for both Felinus and Issac. Snake had called ahead to tell his buddy exactly what computer Issac needed, and all Issac had to do was give his input of colors for the laptop and new backpack.
“I don’t need a backpack,” he said as they stood in front of the selection of bags the guy had said would be best. “Mine works just fine.”
“Baby boy,” Felinus said, patiently as he pulled Issac closer by the back of his neck so they wouldn’t be overheard and wrapped his other arm around Issac’s waist. He was pleased when he felt Issac lean into him, not quite embracing him back but certainly encouraging the contact. “That thing is being held together by duct tape and prayers. Just because you put the duct tape on the inside so it’s not seen doesn’t mean it’s not there. You need a backpack. Pick a color.”
Issac pouted as his chin rested against Felinus’s chest, his dark eyes darting towards the wall of bags. “The gray one is fine,” he muttered.
“I’m all for matching but you don’t have to pick the boring color just because it’s cheaper,” Felinus told him, smiling as Issac’s pout became more pronounced.
He took a deep breath, his cheeks turning pink again. “The blue one.”
“That’s a good boy,” Felinus said, smiling and kissing his forehead, delighted when Issac’s blush deepened.
Felinus made sure to find the biggest insulated bag in a similar blue and, with that last swipe of his card, he had satisfied his desire to cover all of Issac’s basic material needs for now. He steered them to the ice cream stand in the middle of the mall.
Issac wouldn’t look at the flavors and turned down Felinus’s suggestion of a cone or cup. He almost gave in when the helpful young man behind the glass suggested various sundaes but it was a milkshake that finally got Issac to look up from his pouting.
The other man winked at Felinus as he handed over Felinus’s cone and the chocolate milkshake a few minutes later. “My boyfriend gets surly too when I take him shopping,” he whispered. “He secretly loves it.”
Felinus smiled and slipped a fifty into the mug drawn on with a black marker to look like a cow. “Thanks for your assistance.”
Issac took the milkshake as Felinus joined him at a table near the center of the open space and messed with his straw for a moment. “People are watching us,” he said, without looking up at him.
Felinus was mid-lick into his strawberry ice cream when Issac spoke and paused briefly. Letting out a small laugh, he tilted his head at Issac. “Two attractive men eating ice cream draws attention,” he said, shrugging his shoulders but feeling his excitement build.
Issac’s eyes shifted up as he pulled chocolate and whipped cream through the straw and Felinus had to keep himself from remembering how those same lips looked wrapped around another, thicker length. “From me,” he said, his tone even and calm, “three o’clock, three men who followed us from the parking lot.”
Felinus’s eyes shifted to the three Russians sitting at the fountain with a popcorn they shared while “looking” at their phones.
“Nine o’clock, three more that started following after we left the shoe store,” Issac continued.
Felinus smirked as he glanced at the Italians leaning against a pillar directly opposite from where the Russians sat, one eating a hot dog wrapped in a pretzel while the other two shared a cup of bites.
“Six o’clock,” Issac said and Felinus snapped his eyes directly behind Issac, “five minutes ago while you sang the praises of ice cream.”
Two red-headed men sat at a table too far back to hear Issac but definitely too close and attentive to be just resting their feet. They didn’t have any sort of snack though there was a shopping bag on the table between them. They had been talking quietly, their eyes on the back of Issac’s head when one glanced up and noticed Felinus glaring at him.
Felinus didn’t hide his stare, watching the young man squirm uncomfortably in his seat as he smacked at the slightly older man’s arm. They both got up quickly, chair legs scraping loudly against tiles, and taking their bag with them as they walked away.
“Very impressive, baby boy,” Felinus breathed, looking down at Issac who had simply continued to drink his milkshake during the silent stare-down. “I had assumed after you figured out Ma’s Kitchen that you could spot the Russians and Italians, but picking out the Irish busybodies was a good call.”
Issac’s hand tightened on his cup at the word Irish but he didn’t give any other reactions. “How could I not notice them? One of the Russians is built like a brick house and is seven feet tall.”
“You’re exaggerating,” Felinus said, licking his ice cream as he filed that twitch away for later. He glanced towards the truly massive Russian holding the large popcorn bucket in one hand. “He’s six-nine, max.” He took another lick of his ice cream as one of the other Russians lifted a phone like he was showing the other two something and snapped another picture. “They’re Russians,” he said, unnecessarily but continued. “No doubt your little friend, Dimitri, called big brother and Adrian sent his men to keep an eye on me. Make sure you didn’t end up with concrete shoes.”
“Dimitri is just a classmate,” Issac said, looking down at his cup as he stirred the whipped cream into the chocolate. “Not a friend.”
“People don’t tend to pick fights with the likes of me for ‘just a classmate,’ baby boy,” Felinus said, raising an eyebrow. “I think he’s a bit more than that. You don’t have to lie to protect him. Little Volkov is off limits unless he swings first.” He thought for a moment. “And even then it would have to be a really good swing.”
“I’m not lying to protect him,” Issac sighed, glancing up. “I don’t have friends. Friends would indicate having common interests that you talk about. We don’t do that. It’s just school.”
Felinus raised an eyebrow. “How long have you known him?”
Issac shrugged. “First year of college.”
“Grad school?”
“Undergrad,” Issac clarified. “He needed a tutor and I was ruining the curve for everyone so he paid me to get him back up to speed. We just happened to have similar career paths in mind so we had similar schedules for our degrees. We never got out of the habit of studying at the same table even after he stopped needing my help.”
