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Five: (Mis)understanding

Five: (Mis)understanding

Wren stuttered, caught between the immediate desire to thoroughly explain what was happening, the desire to run away and never look back, and the arguably more intense desire to stare unashamedly at Vincent's ungodly handsome face.

His features were practically chiseled from stone and his skin was also as poreless as Beau's – which, what the fuck, not fair. His eyes were dark, a deep brown or black, ringed by thick black lashes. Those eyes were currently looking at the regrettably minimal space between Wren and Beau's bodies like it had personally pushed his grandmother into traffic.

Looking at Vincent now, Wren was reminded of their last interaction a few days ago, when Vincent had given Wren his phone number. Wren was still confused by that whole thing, and he wasn't exactly sure what to do with the phone number, so he had stuck it to his fridge with one of his little frog shaped magnets. It was still there, next to the numbers of his landlord and his apartment's maintenance person, but Wren didn't have any intention of calling Vincent. He was perfectly content with his current cab service, thank you very much, except for the fact that his driver was always the same guy, and honestly, calling another cab service run by the guy he was trying to get away from seemed counterintuitive.

Beau, Wren noticed, was also staring at Vincent now, with an expression that was about as awestruck as Wren felt. He eyed Vincent up and down, and though Wren was quite unfamiliar with attraction and how it was displayed in general, even he could tell that Beau appreciated what he saw. Vincent returned Beau's stare, but his expression was more unreadable, eyes narrowed slightly like he was looking at a piece of gum stuck to his shoe.

Still, Wren thought, unbonded beautiful omega plus unbonded beautiful alpha usually equals imminent flirting. Wren should probably find a way to quietly excuse himself to let them get acquainted.

Except, when Wren slowly turned and started sidling away, both Beau and Vincent's eyes snapped to him like bloodhounds catching a scent. And, at almost the exact same time, they both blurted, "Where are you going?"

"..."

Apparently, Wren wasn't getting out of this so easily. Unfortunate.

Wren wanted to give a polite, well-worded excuse that would immediately free him from this situation, but instead he cleared his throat, said, "Um. Vegetables," and then promptly wished he was dead. Beau and Vincent were both silent for a moment.

Beau was the first to do something to break the awkwardness that had descended over them. He visibly brightened, bounced over, and latched himself onto Wren's arm, hugging it to his chest and blinking up at Wren coquettishly. "I'm headed in the same direction, let's go together!"

Before Wren could respond, Beau was already pulling him along. Wren couldn't help but glance back, just once, to see Vincent glaring, with a hint of incredulity, at their retreating backs.

Um. Wren didn't know what this was all about, but he felt distinctly more in danger now than he did a second ago, like a hungry lion was opening its jaw over his head.

Now in front of the recently-misted vegetables, Wren hesitated, wondering if he should just go about with his shopping like there wasn't a person attached to his arm and quite possibly a feral dog behind him, or if he needed to make an effort to include them in the process. Wren didn't know the etiquette for this situation.

At a loss, he started picking out some peppers, resolving to get what he needed and then make some kind of excuse to leave. He wasn't done shopping by any means. He still needed to get milk and noodles, but he decided he could go without them for a week or two. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make to get out as soon as possible. They may follow him to other aisles, but surely they wouldn't follow him out of the store.

Right?

(Please say right.)

Beside him, Beau also began picking out some veggies, quietly humming to himself as he did so, glancing back every now and again at Vincent, who was still hovering behind them. Maybe this was some kind of weird flirting ritual and Wren was being used as a buffer. That would make sense. Clearly Beau found Vincent attractive, so maybe he was trying to make Vincent jealous by clinging to Wren.

Although, Wren didn't think Vincent would be jealous over someone he'd just met, so maybe that wasn't it. And if it was the case, then Wren wasn't sure how he felt about being in the middle of it. What if it devolved into violence and Vincent came after Wren to fight for Beau's affections?

Wren would die!

Sure, Wren was reasonably fit and could probably hold out for a minute or two in an altercation, but Vincent's muscles were way more impressive. He would crush Wren like a bug! Wren's only saving grace was that he was a good runner, so he might be fast enough to escape.

"So Wren," Beau piped up, instantly making Wren feel like he had a target painted onto his back, "I never got your answer earlier. Do you not like collaring?"

Damn. Wren was hoping he'd forget about that. He cleared his throat again, pretending to focus intently on the vegetables to avoid Beau's eyes.

"Not for myself, no. I don't mind when others do it, though," he said quietly, hoping that was an acceptable answer. He certainly didn't want to offend Beau, and that was truly how he felt about collaring. He couldn't imagine using a collar himself, but it wasn't any of his business if someone else did.

Beau 'hmm-ed' in consideration, putting a couple tomatoes in a plastic bag. His gaze was focused downward, but there was weirdly a small quirk to his lips. It could be a polite smile, or a devious one. "That makes sense. I was just wondering because you were looking at mine so intensely earlier. I thought maybe that you were curious."

Wren was confused. "Curious? About what?"

Beau shrugged. "I don't know. Collars in general. What it would be like to wear one. You have a really graceful neck, I bet you'd look really sexy with a collar – "

Vincent coughed.

"- oh! I know," Beau suddenly said, turning his raven-bright eyes on Wren. Wren suddenly had a very bad feeling.

"Why don't you try on mine?"