“I never thought I’d meet someone like you. I like to think Mother Nature knew to bring me to Frank’s, so I could eventually save your life.” He picked up Dane’s hand and kissed every knuckle, curling up in the seat as the hand gently twitched in his.
“This is what I like about you. You don’t just look for the next shiny. You chose me, and... you make me feel really special,” Dane whispered.
Jag’s smile widened. He’d been scared about sharing so many embarrassing things, but he’d already learned the hard way that posturing would get him nowhere with his sweet mate.
“Because you are. And you deserve to know that… but I’ll still ravish you as if you’re a hot piece of meat.” Jag laughed and leaned over to bite Dane’s ear, but the sudden movement pulled on the still-healing wound in his side, and he shrank back into his seat with a whine.
Dane squeezed his thigh. “Of course you will. No one gave it to me like you. My sexy beast,” he said and winked, as if Jag hadn’t just embarrassed himself by showing weakness. But Dane didn’t seem to mind, so Jag relaxed in the seat and took a deep breath, before they joined the frantic traffic on the highway.
Encouraged by his mate, Jag kept his eyes closed on the way to the theatre, but by the time they parked in a quiet street in the center of a town Dane called small but which looked massive to Jag, he managed to steady himself.
He hated towns.
The trees here were planted wide apart and barely had enough room in the small holes in asphalt left for them like cages. Far too many thick scents perfumed the air, and while some suggested the presence of food, others had an odd, sour quality to them, which he didn’t appreciate. But if Dane wanted to spend time with him here, then he’d bear with it like a good mate should. He’d be open to new tastes, experiences, and people. He’d even try more vegetarian food, if Dane wished.
Buildings as tall as the oldest trees grew everywhere around them, and with streetlights providing more illumination than the stars, his instincts were getting confused about how late it really was. He grabbed Dane’s hand and stood right next to him, waiting for further instructions.
Dane flinched before examining their entwined fingers with a frown. Something was off.
Jag looked around for threats, but no animal or person approached. A group of young people standing in bright light at the street corner did glance their way though, and some of them giggled. “Did I do something wrong?” he whispered, standing straighter just in case.
Dane’s face fell, and he rubbed the back of his head. “Well… I don’t know how much you understand about being gay out here, but… not everyone agrees with people like us being open about our relationship. And this is a small town, so maybe… maybe it would be safer if we didn’t hold hands? I don’t want some drunk idiot spoiling our date by shouting at us.”
“He’d regret it,” Jag muttered, but did let go of Dane’s hand. “Shane did tell me not to be too forward when I tried to date. Maybe I got too used to living around the other guys, because they don’t care. It’s nice to be myself around them.”
Dane’s lips curved into a smile. “Yeah. I… it’s a bummer, really. You’re not wrong holding my hand I just—I’m not sure I’m ready to have slurs thrown my way. I’m sorry,” he said, already heading to the bright area where the group of teenagers had been standing only moments before.
“It’s okay. You can hold my hand at home as much as you want.” Though it was probably him who craved Dane’s presence like a love-starved puppy. “Is this something you experienced a lot in the world? Your family hasn’t abandoned you.”
Dane cleared his throat. “Well… you just hear things. Everyone assumes you’re like most people and want someone of the opposite sex, so they’ll say very offensive things about gay people, not knowing they’re talking to one of them. It really fucking sucks. And maybe I could be more open about it, but I just… I wasn’t ready so far.” He scowled. “As for my family… I now know they’d suspected I was gay, but it feels so awkward to talk to them about it. I shouldn’t treat it as a taboo, because it’s just who I am, but I can’t help worrying what they really think. So many guys live their lives openly, but I don’t know how,” he said with a sad shake to his head before approaching the front of the building on the corner.
Large pictures adorned the storefront, and in the middle, between two identical doors that were now wide open, was a window leading into a tiny room occupied by an older lady with short gray hair.