Page 15

A Rod up the Butt

Seb

Over the course of the last week, I’d almost backed out multiple times.

This was going to be painful. For me, not for him. It was going to feel very, very unpleasant when Larkin eventually decided he’d had enough “practice” and was ready to share his newfound skills with other people.

I didn’t know why I hadn’t called it off.

Alright, I did know. I knew exactly why. I was a sad, desperate wolf pining for the person who didn’t want me, but wanted to have sex with me so he could subsequently go and have sex with anyone else. This was all I’d ever get of him. This was the only chance I’d have to be that close to Larkin. To touch him.

He hadn’t questioned why I’d agreed, but he didn’t know the actual reason. He was oblivious. He thought I was doing him a favour.

I supposed, in the end, it would be just that—a favour. Because he was going to walk away completely fine, and I’d be the one left crushed. The outcome of this wasn’t going to benefit me in any way. It was going to do the opposite.

After leaving the bar, we’d detoured back to the office so I could get my car. Then he’d followed behind me to my house, and several times I’d checked my rearview mirror to see if he’d changed his mind and turned around. He hadn’t.

How many times had I imagined Larkin in my house? I didn’t want to answer that—it was too pathetic to recall the nights I’d spent wishing he was beside me in my bed, the mornings wondering how he’d look sleep-rumpled and barely dressed in my kitchen, the weekends imagining us going for long walks after sleeping in and having lazy morning sex.

I couldn’t think about that. This wasn’t that. This was an arrangement, nothing more. I doubted he’d even want to spend the night.

As he met me on the front porch, nervously jangling his keys, I could see him taking everything in. The rocking chair my dad had built when I moved in. The fairy lights my sister had strung up along the railing. It was a modest two-bedroom that overlooked a small forest, but it was mine, and I took meticulous care of it.

“Nice house, bro,” Larkin said after I’d unlocked the door and stepped aside to let him in.

“Thanks.” I took off my shoes and left them on the rack. After a pause, Larkin did the same, then shifted into his fae form.

I stayed in my human one.

“Want a drink?” I asked, leading us through to the kitchen. He anxiously jangled his keys for a few seconds, before setting them down on the island and hovering beside it.

“No, I’m okay. Thanks.” He wet his lips, alternating between looking around and glancing at me.

He looked really, really nervous. Chest aching, wishing I could reach over and cup his narrow face, soothe his anxiety, I nodded at the stool beside him. “Want to sit down?”

“’Kay.” He swallowed and slid into the seat, almost tipping it as he did so.

The island between us felt like a buffer—like a conference table that would make this conversation seem more formal and less… intimate—so I stayed on the other side.

“Look,” I began, trying to keep my voice calm and measured, “I know you said you hadn’t changed your mind, but—”

“I haven’t.” He jumped in quickly, cheeks staining dark blue. “Really, dude. I haven’t.”

“Alright,” I said steadily, my pulse starting to speed up. “Well, we should still talk about what this will… entail.”

His Adam’s apple jumped. “Okay.”

“I’d like you to tell me exactly what you… want.”

“I did.” His throat bobbed again. “I want to… get it all out of the way. So I’m not so nervous when I…”

Never before had I felt such a unique blend of heartache and affection. He wanted to rid himself of his nerves so he was confident when he inevitably fucked some of the wrestlers.

I let out a slow breath. Alright. Well, I’d agreed to it. He’d been upfront about that, and I’d still agreed to it.

“You have to be more specific than ‘it,’ Larkin.” I managed to make my tone dry and faintly amused. “What’s the ‘it’ you want to get out of the way?”

His cheeks darkened. “You know… sex. All of it.”