Lone Werewolf Duology (bxb)

41. The Lullaby

Away from the urban light pollution, night coated the world in darkness more impenetrable than Volya had ever seen.

As a genetic marvel descended directly from the Walkwe, who could turn into wolves and practiced virginal birth, Volya shouldn't have been tripping over the tent pegs and ropes as much as he did. He felt the affinity to blind kittens far more than the wolves with all his stumbling.

Liam, the grace incarnate, did no better.

While they trekked through the dark, sometimes Liam grabbed his arm for balance, sometimes he grabbed Liam's. They were well-matched in their clumsiness.

"Okay, this is stupid. Stop for a second." Liam fumbled with his phone to turn it into a flashlight.

The trembling circle of light revealed that their perilous journey brought them within ten feet of their tent already.

"I'll take it as a win," Volya muttered, while Liam laughed his gorgeous ass off.

The insides of the tent looked pretty cozy. Still chuckling, Liam climbed in first, snugging into his sleeping bag like he'd done it every day of his life.

Volya hopped about, cursing under his breath every time he bumped into a tent's pole or the nylon ceiling. He had a long list of chores to accomplish. Straighten his sleeping bag, for starters. Then straighten the mat underneath it, because somehow the mat got all bunched up while he straightened the bag. While he was at that, he had to pack away all the things he let spill out of his pack over the past few days, since he didn't previously need the space for sleeping.

He had no idea he owned this many things! Not that many, actually, on a closer inspection. But in the crowded space, two sweatshirts tangled passionately, taking up half-a-tent. His sleeping t-shirt must have crawled underneath the mat all on its own too, because he sure didn't remember stuffing it underneath. No, of course, it didn't. A few weeks of living in a mansion turned him into a slob, plain and simple.

He gritted his teeth, promising to be neater from now on, then wriggled out of one t-shirt into another. If he knew he'd be stuck in the Mnemosyne for this long, he'd have brought pajamas to change into. Yeah, and a pair of fuzzy slippers to go with it. That would send Liam's libido through the roof.

Sadly, his fumbling killed the intimate mood. It just ebbed away with all the comedy. He wished to rewind it to the point when Liam's hand caressed him or when they held hands in the dark. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to do it, so he heaved a sigh and stretched out on the sleeping bag.

"Ah, lights off?" he asked. Wow, a great mood-setting remark! How about, Liam, do you want to make passionate love to me? to follow up? He shook his head and closed his eyes. Let's face it, he blew it.

The phone's flashlight stayed on, its light appearing pink through Volya's eyelids.

"You've been shirking your lessons," Liam said.

"What?" Volya sat up.

His mind struggled to process the image in front of him: Liam's arms looked even better defined when folded under his head to keep it tilted up. And he kept his body propped at an angle that permitted him to better see Volya's ineffectual bedtime ritual. The rest of his breathtaking body was loosely draped by a sleeping bag. A waterproof, lightweight and thin sleeping bag.

"Ah-what?" Volya's gurgling conveyed his thoughts as precisely as could be.

"Your singing lessons," Liam clarified. "You're progressing nicely with your English though."

Here comes the smile... half-a-million watts... seven hundred and fifty thousand watts... take off!

"Thanks, I try. But can we skip the singing for the night? I'm wasted." Also, he blew his chance with Liam.