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“And you catch a hundred poachers every day before lunch.”
“No, that’s not accurate.”
“And you think I don’t know when you do those life expectancy calculators for me and get really sad because I’m going to die before I’m forty.”
“It’s all those McGriddles. I had to email them and ask them to add a box to the form.”
“You are so gentle and, even though you don’t believe it, full of hope, and you see this broken world full of broken people and you spend every day trying to glue it back together.”
Tean offered a tight smile. His eyes were shining again, and it looked like he tried to speak and then gave up.
“Go on,” Jem said. “Tell me about heat death.”
“It’s silly.”
“I insist.”
“No, it’s nothing.”
“I’m dying to know. I’m literally going to die if you don’t tell me.”
“It’s not even that good. You’re going to regret asking.”
“Teancum Mahonri Leon,” Jem said, sitting up and dislodging him. “I have never once in my life regretted anything with you.”
And with that, he bucked his hips and slid out of his boxers.
“What’s going on?” Tean asked.
“You realize you’re wearing all brown again. Is it a rule? Do they program veterinarians at birth to wear brown, and you automatically revert back to it if I’m not around to catch you?”
“You were supposed to be asleep. You were never supposed to know.”
Jem reared back and gave the outfit a considering look. “You know that revs my engine.”
“No, it doesn’t. You hate it. You make me wear green. And blue. And—wait!”
But Jem didn’t wait. He shucked the Keens, undid the button on Tean’s waistband, and dragged the khakis down.
“Are you out of your mind?” Tean asked. “The curtains are open. It’s daytime!”
Tean’s briefs went next. His dick was hard, pointing at his belly.
“I thought I recognized you,” Jem said.
“No, Jem, my shirt—” But the words became muffled as the polo came over his head, exposing the slender chest, the stripe of fur down the center, the dark nipples.
“Better start talking about heat death,” Jem said. “You’re running out of time.”
“This is a work trip. We’re not allowed to have sex on work trips.”
“This is extra naughty, then. Work-trip sex, with the curtains open, in the daytime.” He crawled forward to sit astride Tean’s legs, his knees dimpling the mattress. Then he kissed Tean’s jaw, nosed his head to the side, and bit his neck.
Tean moaned. His voice was syrupy when he said, “Jem.”
“I told you I bite.” He blew cool air over the spot he’d marked. “Heat death?”
“Every—everything slows down.” That little stutter went straight to Jem’s dick, and he rutted forward, seeking contact with Tean’s body, anywhere he could find friction. “Energy dissipates. It’s spread too thin.”
