But nooooo. He'd taken form across the street from the only cigar bar in Caldwell and watched--in the rain like a loser--as Blay and Saxton took up res at a table right in the front window. He'd gotten a whole lot of bird's- eye as his cousin had looked at his best friend with an elegant lust, and then some knuckleheads gave them a hard time and they left their cigars barely smoked and their ports mostly unfinished.
Not wanting to get caught in the shadow game, Qhuinn had dematerialized into the alley beside the place. . . which quickly turned into a wrong place/wrong time kind of gig.
Saxton's voice drifted over on the chilly breeze. "You do realize that dates don't normally end this way. Assuming both parties are interested. "
"Oh. . . really?"
"A kiss is more customary. "
Qhuinn felt his fists tighten, and for a split second, he actually thought of stepping out from behind the Dumpster he was standing behind. But to do what? Ride on up into their space and be all red-light, break-it-up-boys?
Well, yeah. Exactly.
"Come here," Saxton murmured.
Shit, the bastard sounded like a sex-phone operator, all husky and mad sexed up. And. . . oh, man, Blay was going with it, following the guy into the darkness.
There were times when a vampire's incredible sense of hearing was a real ball-gnasher. And of course. . . it didn't help if you put your head around the corner of the trash heap you were next to so you could have a clear visual shot.
As the two of them came up against each other, Qhuinn's mouth dropped open. But not because he was shocked and not because he wanted in on the action.
He simply couldn't breathe. It was as if his ribs had frozen along with his heart.
No. . . no, goddamn it, no. . .
"Tell me something," Saxton whispered. "Have you ever kissed a male before?"
Yes, he has, Qhuinn wanted to scream--
Blay shook his head. He actually shook his head.
Qhuinn squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to calm down enough to dematerialize. As he took form in front of the Brotherhood's mansion, he was shaking like a motherfucker. . . and briefly considered bending over and fertilizing the bushes with the dinner he'd eaten before leaving with Xhex and John.
A couple of inhales later, he decided it was more appealing to go with plan A and get good and shitfaced. With that in mind, he walked into the vestibule, got let in by Fritz, and headed for the kitchen.
Hell, maybe he'd take it a little further than just a buzz. God knew Saxton wasn't going to want to stop at a kiss or two in a cold, damp alley, and Blay had looked like he was prepared to finally get what he'd needed all along.
So there was plenty of time to hammer the hooch until he blacked the fuck out.
Jesus. . . Christ, Qhuinn thought as he rubbed his chest and heard his cousin's voice over and over again: Tell me something. Have you ever kissed a male before?
The image of Blay shaking his head was like a scar on Qhuinn's brain, and didn't that just carry him right out the far side of the kitchen to the storage room where the cases of alcohol were kept.
Such a cliche. Getting sauced because you didn't want to deal.
But he might as well do one thing in his life according to tradition.
Heading back through the kitchen, he realized there was at least one saving grace. When the pair of them did the deed, it had to be back at Saxton's house, because no casual visitors were allowed in the king's home, ever.
As he came out into the foyer, he stopped dead.
Blay was just ducking in through the vestibule.
"Back so soon," Qhuinn said gruffly. "Don't tell me my cousin is that fast. "
Blay didn't even pause. Just kept on going up the stairs. "Your cousin is a gentleman. "
Qhuinn fell in behind his best friend, getting right on the guy's heels. "You think? In my experience, he just looks like one. "