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Will said the last two words with a derisive sneer. He was so tired of everybody thinking they knew how to handle him. Nobody knew how to handle him. And they never fucking would.
Henry took a step forward.
Will took a step back.
“Why are you moving, pup?”
“I’m not going to make it easy for you, not the way you made it easy for me,” Will said. “If you want to hit me, you’re going to have to work for it.”
“That’s what I thought, scared little pup. You’d rather be spanked like a baby than…”
Those words were enough to bring Will into range, but with clenched fists and gritted teeth. What ensued was a stand up, knock down, roll around on the ground fistfight. Blows and cuffs were traded back and forth until Will’s head rang with them and his body ached. But he wasn’t going to give up. He was never going to submit again.
They were both gasping for breath and covered in what passed for mud in New York by the time they stopped, nothing resolved, but all anger discharged.
Henry rolled up to his feet and offered Will a hand. “Let’s go home.”
Will took the proffered hand. He’d actually meant to swat it aside, but he ended up gripping and letting Henry pull him up. Weird.
They came in the door filthy, bruised, and bleeding from lips and noses.
Maddox gave the pair of them the look of a headmaster greeting two scrapping boys to his study. He'd been waiting up. Of course he had. That was the main characteristic of an apex predator, the ability to wait. Maddox had a great many weapons and powers at his disposal, but the greatest of them all was patience.
“I’m sorry,” Will said. “I should have been more careful. The fire was my fault. And everything after was fucked up.”
“Go up to my room and have a shower, boy,” Maddox said.
Will nodded and did as he was told. Maddox turned to Henry, who thus far was not proving to be as useful as Mad had imagined he would be.
“So you take him out and beat the hell out of him, is that it? A more violent version of what I was doing?”
“No,” Henry said. “I didn’t beat him. I let him fight me. There’s a difference. In one case, I dominate him and he feels as though he’s powerless. In the other, he gets to test himself against me without being seriously harmed.”
“Ah,” Maddox nodded. “There is a steak in the refrigerator. You can put it on that eye of yours. I think it will need it.”
“Thanks,” Henry said. “We’re making progress.”
Maddox did not dignify that assertion with a response.
Having left the pack master to tend to his bruised face, Maddox went upstairs to find Will. He found his boy in the shower, leaned back against the wall, hot water pelting down over his body. His skin was coming out in a whole host of bruises and covered in grazes. It must have been a real scrap as well as a pointless waste of time. At least it had tired him out, as he appeared to be fast asleep. Standing upright. Completely exhausted and apparently, utterly done.
Maddox let out a sigh. Nothing was easy when it came to this young human. Not love. Not punishment. Not toast. Not even showers.
He reached in and turned the shower off. He expected that the cessation of water would wake Will. It did not.
Maddox pulled his wet boy from the shower, carrying his sodden whelp over to the bed. Why not ruin that too? At least that way it would match the rest of his damp house. Maddox was not usually given to bitterness, but the trying times of late had been breaching the limits of what passed for his good humor. He’d imagined things would be more simple with Henry present. Instead, they were more chaotic and messy than ever.
“You are fortunate I love you, boy,” he murmured under his breath as he took a towel and began patting Will dry with careful motions.
7
The next day, Will came down to a fresh toaster and new pastries. Someone had resupplied the house after the fire, which was nice. He found Henry down there too, looking like he’d been dragged backwards through several bushes made of rocks.
“You look like shit,” Will said.
“You too,” Henry replied.
Will had a black eye and he was in the best mood he’d been in a long time. He didn’t remember how he got to bed the previous evening. All he knew was that he wanted food. He didn’t say anything else to Henry, and Henry didn't say anything else to him. They both sat around the island, consuming their various repasts in silent, aching solidarity.
