His Heat

Forty-Three: Impression

Forty-Three: Impression

***

Frankly, Damon didn't see how anyone with a brain would believe that Damon was dating this kid. Just the way they were walking together was so awkward and jilted that it was obvious to most that it was their first time doing it. Damon didn't feel embarrassed – if anything, he just thought it was really funny. Behind him, he could hear Mark wheezing from his own laughing fit. Damon was tempted to join in, but seeing the way the boy's ears turned completely red, he refrained. The kid deserved to keep some of his dignity.

Damon took another bite out of his apple, nonchalantly chewing as the boy led him through the stalls. Because Damon's legs were so long in comparison to the boy's, the boy was having trouble keeping up – and even tripped a little. Damon quickly tightened his grasp around the boy's shoulders so he wouldn't eat dirt, and the boy's nose slammed hard into Damon's armpit.

Ah...that's gotta hurt. They took a bit of a break and Damon murmured, "Okay?" to him. The boy nodded as he rubbed at his sore noise, gaze fuzzy. Suddenly, the boy leaned forward and took an experimental sniff at Damon's shirt.

Okay, that's a little rude. Damon was aware he smelled like sweat. It was like ninety million degrees outside! He doesn't need a child telling him, albeit indirectly, that he stinks. He scowled slightly and the boy jumped – seeming like he'd been caught stealing, not sniffing a stranger. He stuttered and just said "omega" by way of explanation.

...Yeah, and?

The boy blushed deeper at Damon's confused stare and determinedly plowed onward, tugging Damon by the waist after him, over to where a young girl was watching them with her arms crossed, her eyes narrowed at them suspiciously. This must be who the kid is trying to get away from. Damon could tell at a glance what type of person this girl was. The spoiled princess who thought she could point at anyone she wanted and they would fall in love with her. That was pretty funny too. Based on Damon's knowledge of this type of girl, they were spoiled when little, and fairly reasonable and level-headed as adults – likely because their attitude would get them kicked in the ass early on and they would learn better.

Once they were all within range to speak to one another, Damon and the boy came to an awkward stop in front of the girl, who's lip curled in a smirk. It was clear she didn't believe their little performance, but honestly, who would. Damon kept eating his apple, as if he were a spectator watching an intense sport. Tween drama. Absolutely riveting. He could feel the boy's hand getting sweaty against his waist, but that wasn't entirely his fault. It was much too hot for bodily contact. After standing in silence for a noticeably long time, the boy waved his free hand at Damon, as if saying 'See? I told you so.'

As expected by everyone, the girl didn't buy it. "This is your 'secret lover'?" she said, disdainful and mocking – and not trying to hide it, so props to her for that.

The boy just nodded.

Damon wanted to sigh with pity for the boy. You have to have a better defense than that! The little girl quickly switched her gaze to Damon, sharp like a hawk. Damon frowned. Oh no. He felt like he could hear a mechanical video game voice saying 'Target locked' when she looked at him.

"I still don't believe you," she said, addressing both of them even though her glare was firmly fixed on Damon. "If you're really his boyfriend, then prove it."

Well...she had them there. Damon didn't know anything about this boy, other than that he was an alpha with a clingy admirer. He didn't even know the boy's name. The boy, also, looked startled, though less obviously. But Damon could still see the burgeoning panic in his eyes. Clearly, he hadn't thought that far ahead. The only thing Damon could do was act – and hope that the girl was easily convinced by even the shittiest of acting skills.

Damon didn't know why he bothered. It wasn't his problem to help children solve their unrequited crushes. But there was something rather pitiful in the way the boy seemed about to admit defeat that made him take action.

He quickly got into character and straightened with a huff, rolling his eyes and neatly tossing his finished apple core into one of the nearby trash bins.

"Who's your friend?" he said to the boy, feigning disinterest and ignoring the girl completely – and then immediately moving on. "You know what, it doesn't matter. I've gotta run. I have to pick up candles. It's our one-week anniversary tomorrow, remember? Don't forget to buy the cupcakes or we'll have to stick the candles in salads, and you know how that turned out last time. Alright? See you later!"

Then, without warning, he swooped down and pecked the boy on the cheek. He inwardly apologized if it happened to be a smooch that was sticky with apple juice. The boy promptly froze, with his eyes wide open like a deer.

Damon turned and walked away before he could lose his composure and burst out laughing. The look on both of their faces was priceless – the girl with pure shock and horror (so maybe Damon's acting skills weren't that bad after all), and the boy simply frozen like Damon's kiss had turned him to stone.

He could hear the girl spluttering behind him and hoped, for the boy's sake, that that had worked. Even if unreasonable, most fourteen-year-old girls wouldn't persist in chasing after someone already in a relationship. Like many children her age, she would probably switch her attentions to someone new within the week.

Or maybe that had been completely transparent, and all Damon did was embarrass the boy. Well, whatever. He had done what he could. If the girl had started asking Damon questions, the whole thing would have gone down in flames anyway. Better to give the boy a chance rather than nothing at all.

Damon went back to Mark, who had his hands on his knees, panting with a red face as he laughed. The people nearby were giving him a wide berth, some with concerned looks like they thought he was going to pass out. Damon slapped him on the shoulder. "Alright, yeah, super funny. But hey, at least I helped him."

"H...hel..." he couldn't even finish the word, he was gasping so hard. Damon rolled his eyes again, grabbed Mark by the elbow, and pulled him back the way they'd come. It was about time for them to meet up with the rest of the group.

Mark gradually calmed down as they walked, chugging a cup of lemonade from one of the stalls until he had control over himself. The occasional giggle still slipped out. Damon was thoroughly unamused.

Damon was hot, tired, and his feet were starting to hurt from all the walking, but Mark now had fodder for teasing for the next few months, at least, and so he kept talking about it. He was about to become insufferable – Damon knew from experience.

"Honestly, it was cute," Mark said. "He only saw your face for two seconds and was so stunned by your beauty that he developed a little crush. He was practically a tomato."

Damon scoffed. "What? He was just nervous."

That's truly what Damon thought. If he were in the boy's position, he would have been flustered as well.

"C'mon, Damon," Mark bumped their shoulders. "You were fourteen once. Haven't you ever felt puppy love for someone older and hot?"

Damon was baffled, both because he couldn't compute himself and the word 'hot' in the same sentence, and because no, that hadn't happened to him. Just another teenage experience he's never had, he guessed.

Well, even if Mark was right (which Damon very much doubted) he had done a good deed. Maybe. He didn't stick around long enough to find out if it was good or not.

But it's not like he would ever see those two again, so good or bad, it didn't really matter right?