Fourteen frowned. “I’ve got something for you.” Out of his jacket came a pink velour hoodie and a pair of white yoga pants. “The colors aren’t ideal for covert ops, but it’s better than what you’re wearing. Your pants didn’t survive their encounter with the cage.” Fourteen gave an awkward cough and added, “Or me.”
Cym glanced down to see one of the legs of his pants had been ripped from ankle to hip and was missing large strips of material. If it was this cold inside the garage, he’d hate to think what it would be like going outside in half a pair of pants. If his brother hadn’t been there, he would have kissed Fourteen again for his foresight.
With some help from Fourteen, Cym pulled the hoodie on, leaving his injured arm out of the arm hole and zipped safely inside. The cheerful visage of Hello Kitty winked up at him from his good arm, and he decided to take the kitty as a sign of good luck.
When Cym got to the pants, he paused. “Um…” He wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to get them on himself, but having Fourteen help him in front of his brother seemed like a recipe for disaster.
“Maybe I should help you with that.” Sterling volunteered awkwardly.
Fourteen gave his brother a threat-filled glare, letting Cym know he wasn’t as indifferent about Sterling’s shifting loyalties as he had seemed a minute ago.
Sterling held both hands up in surrender. “I get it, I get it, okay? You’ll rip my arms and legs off if I hurt him,” he said irritably and stepped forward to help Cym. He only made it two steps before stopping in his tracks with a strange expression on his face.
Cym hobbled backward hastily while Fourteen stepped in front of him, looking ready for anything.
“Are you okay, Ster?” Cym asked, cautiously peeking around Fourteen’s shoulder.
Sterling shook himself and frowned. “Yeah, I just… maybe your champion should help you after all. I’ll turn around. Just… hurry up, okay?”
Cym met Fourteen’s eyes, still dark with promise from their kiss earlier, and gulped. “Okay…” Standing injured in a half-destroyed garage with his brother standing awkwardly to one side wouldn’t have been his first choice for letting Fourteen see the goods for the first time, but perhaps there was a workaround for that. “Could… could you close your eyes?”
Fourteen gave Cym an amused look that said he had no problem defiling Cym right in front of his brother, but he nodded his assent and closed his eyes without a word. Cym leaned onto Fourteen’s arm and did his best to shimmy out of his torn pants one-handed without taking off his shoes—the floor was too icy to contemplate touching with his bare feet. At one point he nearly fell over, and Fourteen shot out a hand to stop him. Startled, he looked at Fourteen’s face, expecting his eyes to be open, but he was confused to see them still closed.
“How did you…?”
Eyes still closed, Fourteen lifted a shoulder minutely in a shrug. “All part of the training.”
Shaking his head, Cym went back to pulling on the yoga pants over his sneakers. Fourteen had no idea how effortlessly cool he was. Cym finally managed to work the pants up his legs with one hand and reveled in the leftover warmth they retained from being carried against Fourteen’s body.
Was this what being cared for felt like? Being protected whether he asked for it or not? Having someone else put his needs above their own? He pressed a cheek against Fourteen’s broad chest. This dependable, surprisingly thoughtful, cool-as-fuck man had attached himself to Cym whether he deserved it or not. Cym knew he didn’t deserve it, but he would work to make sure he did one day.
Cym reached up with his good hand to touch Fourteen’s cheek. “Fourteen… I’m so sorry… I-”
With his eyes still closed, Fourteen said, “Later. Apologize when you’re safe.”
“I’ll do that,” Cym promised, planning to apologize to Fourteen hard enough to get himself pregnant if he’d possessed the proper parts for it. “I’m decent now. You can open your eyes.”
Fourteen’s eyes opened and he gave Cym a once over. “How’s your ankle?”
“It’ll survive.” Cym would keep up no matter how it felt. If Fourteen was going to keep risking his life for Cym, then Cym vowed to do everything in his power not to drag him down while he did it.
Fourteen kissed Cym in response.
“You two are being way too quiet over there,” Sterling said in a disgruntled tone.
Cym tried to skitter backward, but Fourteen held him fast and said, “All clear.” So when Sterling turned around, he didn’t have any illusions about what he’d interrupted them doing.
Sterling gave Fourteen the stink eye but didn’t comment.
Cym slapped on a fake, cheery voice and said, “Okay, so what’s the plan? Even if we get out of here, we’ve got Sterling and Hester with us now. We can’t leave her behind or that nightmare will just go back to her. We can’t hide all of us using your shield. Well, not for very long.” The mental image of Fourteen carrying all three of them around in his arms for the rest of his life made Cym smile.
Fourteen put a hand up reminding him of a child asking a question in school. “What’s a nightmare?”
Oops. Fourteen was so efficient at everything he did, Cym kept forgetting that they weren’t from the same world and he had a lot of gaps in his knowledge. Cym hurried to explain. “A nightmare is a creature that has escaped from the dreamscape; they’re created from the fears of humans. Guardians are supposed to hunt them down and destroy them before they make it to the Real—the waking world—but I think this one has been running around here for a long time.”
“Guardians? I met some people claiming to be guardians earlier today, right after you ditched me,” Fourteen offered.
“I didn’t—” Cym tried to protest, but he stopped when Fourteen gave him a sharp look. Cym had totally ditched him and didn’t have a leg to stand on. Fourteen had one hell of an apology coming to him. Was cock-sucking a good method of apology? Cym would happily become a pro if that’s what it took.
Sterling ignored their by-play and said excitedly, “If we can get out of here and make it to the Guard, we might have a chance. Cymbeline, the entire family isn’t like her.” He motioned toward Hester. “There are a few of us who are just scared and want away from what’s been happening. If you go to the Guard, they can help you take over the family. I mean, it’s supposed to be yours in the first place.”
Cym looked at Fourteen, questioning.
“Whatever you choose, I’ll get you there.”
“Well, that’s no damned help at all.” Cym huffed out an irritated breath. Then, after taking in Fourteen’s stiff posture, he added hurriedly, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t take it out on you. It’s just… I’m not a leader. I’m not anything!”
Fourteen took Cym’s uninjured hand carefully, treating it like something more precious than diamonds, and kissed it. “Then your possibilities are limitless.”
When Cym’s magic rose to pour into Fourteen, he noticed it felt different than it had moments before. Instead of a desperate need to fix something, Cym felt like it was reaching out to greet an old friend. He gazed into Fourteen’s eyes, shadowed with the stress of the past few days, and smiled.
“Stop trying to maul my brother!” Sterling waved a hand between the two of them to break their eye contact and then jumped back to a safe distance. “We. Don’t. Have. Time. For. This.” He enhanced each word with a clap to impart his full meaning.
Reluctantly, Cym pulled his hand free with a gentle tug. “Sterling is right. Let’s get out of the compound first, then we can all decide where to go next.”
With a miniscule quirk of his lip, Fourteen nodded his assent and strode over to the door to peer outside. “My guy did a good job. Half the place is in flames. Sterling, can you carry Hester?”
Sterling made a face. “If I have to.”
