Treasure Box

III

I'm gonna preface this one with a message to all my wonderful commenters. I'm kinda curious, who actually wants me to respond to their comments? Keep in mind, I'm awkward and a bit of a dick. I thought I was sparing people by not giving them my two cents and a nickel.

When Saturday came around, Michael had almost no problem getting out of the house for a 'walk.' Papa had left for work later than usual that day, late enough to ask the paranoid questions that daddy never bothered asking. Fortunately, daddy managed to push him out the door and save Michael from the barrage.

The house that Michael had escaped to was just down the corner from his own, not even out of sight. He went up the porch and rang the doorbell. He hummed to himself as he waited for the door to be answered. It didn't take long before the lumbering man that he had met a few days before was standing there, staring at him like he was a lump of gold. Well, if Michael read his gaze properly, it was more like a man seeing his wife for the first time in ten-no twenty years with all the love that he had on their wedding day. He felt himself warm under it.

"Hey, Sor."

The bear of a man didn't answer but dragged Michael into a tight embrace. He dug his nose into the crevice of Michael's neck, deep enough to feel his pulse stutter, and breathed in deeply.

Michael was so unsure of what to say that he said nothing but noted in quiet amusement that he was being smelt. It reminded him that this was a werewolf he was pursuing. A significantly older werewolf with probably tons of experience. Is he making a good decision?

"I missed you." The words were murmured so quietly that they barely broke through Michael's thoughts. Soren pulled back with an expression like a helplessly lost puppy.

Michael couldn't help the loud coo that escaped him, "You're so cute."

Soren blinked at him, shocked. "I'm cute?"

Michael nodded, his smile growing.

"I'm not cute," Soren insisted, "You're cute, I'm..." he trailed off, trying to pick a tough, masculine adjective that suited him but Michael finished for him.

"Absolutely adorable," the teenager grinned.

"But I'm not," Soren argued gently.

"Right," Michael's grin only widened, "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Oh, yes, of course," Soren stepped to the side, "Please come in."

"Thank you," Michael stepped into the entry way and glanced around at the tidy house. Somehow, he just knew this wasn't Soren's home. "Whose house is this?"

"A friend's," Soren answered vaguely, hardly sounding like he even meant the word 'friend.'

Michael took the answer to mean it was a pack thing. "Is it okay that we hang around here or should we go somewhere else?"

"It's fine," Soren ushered him into the large living room. It was obviously meant for a large amount of people with all the couches and chairs surrounding a flat screen television. A PlayStation 4 and controllers were stored in a set of cabinets beneath the TV. "I believe we should talk."

Michael sat down in the love seat, pulling Soren down with him. "I doubt you're the one who thinks that."

Soren frowned, looking mildly offended, "Why do you say that?"

"Because you don't seem like the talking type," Michael teased, "I bet you would have kissed me already if it wasn't for those pesky legalities."

Soren shrugged and mumbled grudgingly, "They are pesky."

Michael giggled, "So what is it you want to talk about?"