Pack Dynamics

Blood Out, Blood In

Two years later...


“Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”

Casey smiled and stretched without opening his eyes. He could feel the bed dipping on one side under Shelby’s weight.

“Come on, wakey wakey. I brought you breakfast in bed.”

Casey could smell as much and opened his eyes. Shelby was proudly holding a strawberry poptart and six strips of barely-cooked bacon.

She grinned at Casey. “Best girlfriend ever. I know. You’re welcome.”

Casey smiled and sat up in the bed, reaching for a slice of bacon. “Thank you.” He chewed on the slice and asked between bites, “What time is it?”

“Nearly seven. I came down half an hour ago.”

He and Shelby shared a small house. She had her own apartment upstairs, his room were downstairs. Located on the end of a nearly deserted road, on the outskirts of the city, they had all the isolation they wanted – isolation their respective jaguars craved.

Casey’s eyes widened slightly, “Why are you up so early?”

“I’m going out today. I’ve been researching something odd.”

Working with the group called the Betrayers was an adjustment for Casey. No central power. No orders. No salary. Everyone sort of just did their own thing. Collaborating if and when useful.

They worked with wolf shifters willing to share their power with the other otherworld factions. A group of witches who were excellent trackers and mesmerisers. A bear shifter who was a total brute for when they needed reinforcements. A vamp who knew any computer hardware, software, and infoware inside and out. And most surprising of all, a number of rare cat shifters like himself.

Casey struggled up onto his elbows. “Need any help?”

Shelby shook her head. “Nah, it’s just recon. I’ve noticed an increase in shifter attacks in the last two months. It might be nothing, they may not even be connected, but I get this feeling maybe there’s something there. Some of the victims and attackers are known Betrayer sympathisers. There was a big fire last night, out on the McGregor hunting grounds. I feel I owe it to everyone to at least check it out.”

It still mystified Casey how selfless Shelby was. There was no one she wouldn’t bend over backwards to help. Casey’s eyes flittered to the framed pictures beside his bed. One was a picture of him and Shelby taken almost 6 months ago when they had effortlessly transitioned from friends to still-friends-but-with-certain-r-rated-benefits. They became so close that first year that sleeping together seemed to just happen naturally. In the picture, they were lazing on the couch, arms wrapped around each other, smiling at the camera. It perfectly captured their relationship: content and comfortable.

The other picture was of his parents. Real honest to goodness parents. They looked young in the picture, maybe 19, standing together. His mother’s honey-coloured hair was long and brushing against her shoulders as she looking into the camera softly. His dad, tall and slender and so young looking, was looking down at her, pride shinning out of his green-gold eyes. Casey was technically in the picture too – his mother’s left hand cradled the roundness of her protruding stomach.

He looked back to Shelby, taking a big bite of poptart, “Are you sure? I don’t have any plans for today...”

“Nah, you’ve been working hard lately, sleep in, play some Xbox, clean the bathroom is you feel so inclined...”

Casey smiled and leaned in for a chaste kiss. “Come back soon.”

Shelby grinned and ruffled Casey’s hair once before leaving. “I’ll be back before supper.”

She didn’t come back – at all.

~~~

24 hours later, a haggard-looking Casey was pounding on the door to another Betrayers’ house.

A middle aged woman with long grey and silver hair and crow’s feet at the corner of her eyes opened the door. She ushered the young shifter in, “Casey.”

“Miranda.” Casey said by way of greeting, bursting into the foyer, practically pushing the woman out of the way. “Shelby,” he got straight to the point, “Where is she?”

The witch looked at him placidly, just the tightening of lips showing some sort of concern. “She is missing?”

“Yes. She left yesterday morning, to check out some fire. I haven’t heard from her since.”

She hummed lightly, in thought. “Come, let’s see what we can find.”

She ushered Casey deeper into the house, into an open back room with blackout curtains on the windows. A young man was sprawled on the antique, maroon velvet-lined couch in calculated disarray. A blood red tie lay open on his chest, top buttons undone on his starched white shirt. His pores seeped Old World vamp, out of place with the Nintendo DS held lazily in his hands, long slender fingers flying over the controls.

He looked up when they entered – lips quirking elegantly. “Casey, welcome. Miranda did not mention we were receiving visitors today.”

“Vladislav.” Casey nodded curtly.

The old witch waved her hand impatiently. “Shelby is missing. Light the candles.”

The graceful body unfolded from the couch, handheld disappearing into thin air along with all traces of casualness. The vampire was all business as he stuck a match to light the candles lining the walls. “Missing? Was she on a mission?”

“Yes, but nothing official. She was checking out a lead she had on a group harassing our sympathizers.”

The witch pulled out a large porcelain bowl filled with polishes stones, setting it in the center of the table. “I will see what I can find out.”

Both men stood back, watching as she gazed into the reflecting stones, scrying.

The woman frowned, concentrating for a moment, listening to the spirits or whatever voodoo witches did. Her eyes unfocused as she answered, “She has been captured.”

“What? How?” Casey would never forgive himself. He should have gone with her. He was the fighter, Shelby was the...the reader or the talker or the thinker. Casey paced angrily, feeling his teeth and nails lengthening.

“The fire, it was a trap. Shelby is being held by a shifter pack... I don’t know if they work for the Alliance, they may be rogues.” A frown lines crested on her brow as she concentrated, staring into the bowl. “They are based in southern Ontario. I can’t pinpoint the location with any more detail...”

“If they are in Ontario, they must be on the Alliance’s radar.” Casey muttered, mostly to himself, trying to puzzle it out. “Well, how do we get her back?”

“We cannot.” Vladislav spoke smoothly, tinged with regret. “We,” he spoke of the Betrayers, “are spread too thin right now. We cannot take on a full pack of shifters.”

“He is right.” The witch sagged over the stones, her grey/white hair hanging in curtains. “...this pack they are dangerous, skilled and well supplied.”

“None of the people we work with have an in?” Casey pressed harshly.

“You know our group has not managed to infiltrate the Alliance, Casey.” Vladislav pointed out. “Not even close.”

Miranda shook her head, silent for another minute, her eyes fathomless as she stared into the stones. “We will need to use a pack that’s in with the Alliance already. A pack familiar with the Toronto area and the otherworld players that reside there.”

Vladislav clicked his razor sharp teeth in warning, “Miranda...No.”

“...Your old pack, Casey. You may be able to get in using Mason Rossi’s pack.”

It had been two years since Casey had heard that name. His gut clenched fiercely remembering the way it had been for the first few months here. Mason never far from his mind. Stomach constantly clenching and rolling – 24/7 nausea. Searching every shadow, every stand of trees, thinking Mason would show up out of nowhere. Waking up in the middle of the night wondering why he was alone in a bed before remembering... “Is there no other way?”

“They are your best bet. You know them, they know you...” Miranda looked up from her bowl as she said it.

The red circles around Vladislav’s iris were pronounced as he argued, “Impossible. They will kill him.” He turned to Casey. “You left the pack. A shifter cannot leave a wolf pack and then just show up years later and say ‘Hey, guys, what’s up?’ They will kill you.”

Ice ran through Casey’s veins. Vladislav was right. Shifters didn’t leave their packs and then expect to return. But wasn’t it worth it? To save Shelby? Shelby had saved him once too, showing him how much world there was outside pack life, showing him affection, love, showing him what an equal relationship was really all about. Shelby had made him stronger, better...and maybe that was all for this moment. So he could go back to where it all started, so he could save Shelby, too.

~~~

He went straight from Miranda’s to the bus depot and got on the first bus from Montreal to Toronto. He got off on Bay Street with nothing but the clothes on his back, 46 bucks, his keys, and a silver blade tucked under his belt.

He walked to the nearest subway stop and 35 minutes later surfaced opposite the apartment building he had shared with Mason before leaving two years ago. It hadn’t changed at all. That included the broken latch on the side door. He let himself in and climbed the five floors to Mason’s apartment.

He stood outside the door, silently, letting his cat senses expand. If he was going in, he wanted to know what he was walking into. He could hear nothing but the faint hum of the fridge. The scent of Mason was there, though not overpowering. It looked like he had lucked out; no one was home. He checked his watch, close to 10 p.m. If Mason was out with the pack, he may not be home until 1-2 in the morning.

Casey fished his keyring out of his pocket. He still had the key. He had had it on him when he left two years ago and had never thrown it away. It hung on the chain with the key to the house he shared now with Shelby. He wondered what the chances were that Mason hadn’t changed the lock.

The key fit.

Casey let himself in. The lock wasn’t the only thing that hadn’t changed.

The furniture was the same. The stained flooring was the same. Even the dirty dishes stacked in the sink looked the same.

Casey wondered if the bedroom was the same. He couldn’t resist. He walked back and opened the door to the bedroom, walking in. On the bed was the black and white blanket, the one Mason had gotten the last night they spent together two years ago. Casey was surprised he could even recognize it. After all, he had only seen it that once. Beside the end of the bed was the grey cat bed. Before he even knew what he was doing, Casey was reaching down and touching it, feeling the worn, familiar material under his hands. It looked recently used, a body imprint in the material. Did Mason have a new shifter living here? Sleeping in Casey’s old bed? He inhaled deeply, but couldn’t smell anyone in the room but Mason.

Click.

Casey froze, hearing a key turning in the lock outside. He straightened, pressing back against wall by the bathroom, out of sight. As if that would save him... He was in the apartment now, nowhere to go.

Casey heard the door opening and then closing – then nothing for a second except the sound of inhalations.

The air was infused with the Alpha’s dark scent and Mason’s rumbling growl filled the air. But there was no more sounds of movement. What the hell was he doing just standing out there? Then, in what sounded like two steps, Casey could hear Mason crossing the main room and burst into the bedroom with a stricken look on his face. Mason sniffed the air deeply, looking towards the cushion. Casey tensed up, waiting for Mason to turn on him, wondering if Mason would attack in human form or wolf. Casey thought now he should have loosened his clothes just in case.

But he didn’t turn and attack. Casey watched, confused, as Mason stared at the cushion for a minute. Finally, Casey had to breathe. Breathing meant moving, just the barest rise and fall of his chest, but that was enough to alert Mason. Mason was on him instantaneously. His movement so quick it looked like a blur, even with Casey’s advanced vision. Mason’s teeth were sharpened, brutal weapons, and his claws where pressed against Casey’s throat.

And then he...moved back. Not far, just a foot, and then two. A look of shock on his face as his teeth and claws receded. “Casey?”

Casey’s body was tensed, ready to fight or at least ready to defend himself when Mason attacked.

But...he didn’t attack, he just stared – his eyes sweeping rapidly up and down and over Casey’s body. Casey didn’t allow himself the same luxury, even though he wanted to look Mason over. Two years had passed and before that Casey had never been away from Mason more than two days since he was 12. His senses wanted to drink in Mason’s familiar sight and smell. Instead of looking Mason over, Casey forced his eyes to stay trained on his legs, watching to tell which way he would move, which way he would attack.

“Casey...” Mason repeated, though this time it wasn’t a question, just a stunned breath of air.

There was something about his tone that scared Casey – he sounded...vulnerable, lost. Casey didn’t know how to handle this Mason.

“I smelled you when I walked in the apartment, but I thought...” Mason cut himself off abruptly, his expression closing off, eyes like ice. “What the hell are you doing here?! Where have you been?”

Anger. Casey exhaled long and slow in relief. He could handle anger. He spared a glance up to Mason’s face.

“Yeah. Right. I know. I had to go away for a bit. But I’m...” Casey’s cat shook faintly under the intensity of the Alpha’s stare. “I’m back.”

Mason blinked and stepped forward, intruding into Casey’s space, so close Casey could feel the heat off his body as well as the intensity of his rage. The rage was right under the surface, though you wouldn’t be able to tell from his soft, controlled tone as he spoke, “Excuse me?”

“I’m back.”

“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?” Mason vibrated with anger.

Casey shrugged with deceptive nonchalance, eyes still trained on Mason’s muscles.

“I found your blood.”

Casey’s eyes snapped up to Mason’s face, confused by the sudden change in topic.

“That night you disappeared. I drove all night to get there after you shut your cell off. I tracked your scent to a park. Your blood was on the ground, and I could smell gun power. I looked everywhere for you. I searched every inch of the park. I made the pack check hospitals and vets and the fucking morgues.”

Casey stared at him, his stomach knotted tight. He had never seen Mason so angry, not in 8 years

“You were just...gone. And the only trail you left behind was blood. And now you’re back – YOU’RE BACK ?! That’s all you have to say for yourself?! Well, guess what, Casey? You don’t get to just come back like that. You left us. You left me.”

Casey stared at him mutely, his cat paralyzed a strange mixture of elation at being in proximity to his Alpha again and trepidation at the Alpha’s rage.

His jaguar mewed and the sound emerged from his lips.

Mason’s whole body shuttered at the sound then his eyes hardened further. “YOU CAN’T JUST COME BACK LIKE THIS!”

Casey steeled himself, forcing his eyes up. “So, what? You’re just going to kick me out? I have nowhere else to go, Mason.”

Mason seethed, breathing heavily though his nose. Casey was pretty sure he was trying not to haul off and punch him.

“Where have you been?” the question came out of Mason’s mouth, harsh and accusing.

Casey had known these questions were coming and had decided to stick to the truth whenever possible. “I’ve been living in Montreal.”

Mason waited and when it became clear no more information was going to be offered he spit out, raging, “You’ve been living in Montreal...that’s it? That’s what you’re going to say? You’ve been gone for two years, Casey, without a word. You’re going to have to do a hell of a lot better than that.”

Casey shrugged, knowing it would piss Mason off more. “Nothing much to say.”

“Nothing much to say...” Mason hissed and then yelled, “Why don’t you start with why you left? And why you stayed away, and why you never even called or left a note telling us YOU WERE STILL ALIVE!”

“I left...I don’t know, to be free, to see if I could do it on my own. I stayed because I found a job, one I was good at, a place I was needed. And I didn’t contact you because I thought... I thought if I did, you’d track me down.”

“I thought...” Mason shook his head, as if trying to clear his thoughts. “No one hurt you, that night? Forced you? The blood, the gunpowder...”

“No one forced me. I left on my own.”

Something inside Mason deadened. When he looked back up, his eyes were bleak. He asked in a hard, tone even. “And why are you back now?”

Casey went with the truth again – though certainly not the whole story. “Because I need the pack. I want to be back in the pack again.”

There was a long tense silence where Casey frantically tried to decide what his next argument would be – how he would convince Mason to let him back in the pack he had just freely admitted he had abandoned.

Mason appeared to come to a decision, his eyes practically black at they looked into Casey’s. “If you come back, you don’t come back as my Beta. You’ll be an Omega. A bitch.”

Casey hadn’t been expecting to be Beta again, if he was even allowed back in. And as much as the idea of being an Omega went against his every instinct, he knew what his answer would be. “Okay.”

Mason looked momentarily astonished, like he hadn’t been expecting Casey to agree.

“Okay,” Casey repeated, “I’ll be your Omega.”

“Fine.” Mason snarled and then attacked.

Casey swivelled and moved to get away but was stopped dead when Mason released a vicious growl. “Down.” The order twisted out of a mouthful of supernaturally sharp teeth with an inhuman growl to accompany it.

“Mase...”

The body hit him like a ton of bricks, knocking him backwards onto the ground beside the bed. Casey fought back, kicking and twisting, but the harder he fought the tighter Mason held him, the growling increasing.

Casey realized he only was making things worse and eventually went limp against the floor, hoping that alone would appease the instincts of the dominant wolf. A second later, he felt the scratch of teeth against his throat.

Casey tensed and started to struggle again, crying out, “What the hell?!”

Mason’s face hovered over his, his teeth sharpened into wolfish points, distorting his speech, “You want into the pack again, then you need to be bitten in.”

Casey’s blood ran cold. He hadn’t thought about that, it had probably been deliberate. No shifter liked to submit to a bite, but it was tradition; if you weren’t born into a pack, you were bitten in. If you wanted out of a pack you were bitten out – though that would most likely be a bite that ripped out your throat and lead to a slow painful death.

Casey knew there was no way out, he had to do this. He needed back in the pack to save Shelby. He took a steadying breath and then let his head roll back, exposing his throat to Mason.

Mason licked once, his tongue rough against Casey’s stubble and then his teeth sunk in.

Casey yelped, at least he thought he did, he couldn’t hear much over the pounding of his heart. Mason kept his mouth on Casey’s throat, not gnawing just...sinking in.

For two years, all of those forbidden submissive tendencies (ones Casey wouldn’t even admit to having) had been brutally crammed deep down in his soul. But, fuck if this didn’t hit them all. Heavy body pinning him down, throat and belly exposed, teeth biting into him. Not just any teeth though – Mason’s, his Alpha’s.

It ached, it hurt, and not entirely in a bad way.

It felt so different from the first time...

~~~

It had been months since Mason had taken him away from the last foster home for wayward boys. Casey had just turned 13.

“It’s cold!” Casey whimpered quietly.

The cops had found their makeshift home in the basement of the abandoned townhouse; the pack had been forced to run. Mason had broken them into a cabin by the lake. The rest of the pack was sleeping in the main room and Mason had claimed the small bedroom for his own, dragging Casey along with him. It was late fall and the occupants were probably back in the big city, summer cabin abandoned for another year. Unfortunately, they also turned off the heat when they had left.

“I’m going to try and start a fire.” Mason explained, working away at the small wood fireplace.

Casey watched, thinking Mason must have been colder than he was, only wearing jeans and a thin long sleeved t-shirt.

Casey was on the bed, wrapped in the only blanket left in the cabin. Under that he had his own clothes, his coat, and Mason’s coat tucked tightly over his thin shoulders. He wasn’t really cold, he was scared. But he wasn’t about to let the other boy know that, so he sat and trembled and blamed it on the temperature.

Once Mason had a fire going, he moved back to the bed and sat down beside Casey.

They were silent for a while, and eventually Casey’s trembling subsided.

“That was close, hey?” Casey mumbled, hugging the blanket close. “When the cops came? I thought for sure they were going to catch us, and I was going to have to go back to that foster home.”

The memory made a haunted look flash on his face then resolve firmed his features. “I think I should bite you.”

“What?!” Casey flushed at the way his voice squeaked, quickly turning on the bed to look up at Mason.

“It’s how you become a real member of the pack.” Mason explained in a patronizing I’m-older-than-you-and-I-know-everything tone that never failed to raise Casey’s hackles. “The Alpha bites the other members. I gave the others their bite when I first formed the pack, after...after the murders.”

“I don’t wanna be bitten.”

Mason looked at him, his brow furrowing like it did whenever he was frustrated. “Don’t you want to be a real pack, Casey? A real family?”

He did want that. A family. Mason’s family. Casey nodded a little, but he was also familiar with Mason’s wolf form by this time and the muzzle that contain a mouthful of razor sharp teeth. “Why don’t we play were I’m the alpha and I get to bite you?”

“Because it’s not play, Casey. It’s for real. Once I bite you, you’ll be my pack. I’ll be your Alpha and I’ll take care of you – forever.”

Casey’s eyes narrowed a little, “Why can’t I be Alpha?”

“Because the Alpha is always the strongest pack member. Once you’re stronger, and your shift comes more easily, you can be my Beta. That’s almost as important.”

It’s too bad 13 was too old to pout, because that’s what Casey really wanted to do. Instead, he sighed and mumbled, “Fine then, you can bite me.” He held out his hand to Mason.

Mason rolled his eyes and started to pull the layers of blankets and coats off the young teen. “Not there. I’m going to bite your throat.”

“What? Why?” Casey defensively held a hand up to his neck, his every cat instinct going into self-protection mode.

“Because that’s how it’s done.” Mason explained simply, reaching up to pull his hand away. “We have do it right, proper, because then no one will ever be able to split us apart.”

Casey resisted mulishly. “What if it hurts?”

“Don’t you trust me?”

He remained stubbornly silent.

“I would never hurt you, Casey.” Mason looked pissed that he would even think that.

“...Okay,” Casey said finally. “Go ahead.” He tipped his head to the side, exposing the long smooth line of his neck.

Mason didn’t hesitate. Leaning over Casey, he sniffed at his neck and the licked a swath over the side of the throat.

Casey squirmed. “That tickles.” He could feel Mason rolling his eyes, even though he couldn’t see him.

“You’re such an idiot. Relax now, I’m gonna do it.”

Casey relaxed against the back of the couch and hissed, feeling Mason’s lengthened teeth piercing his flesh. It burned a little, but didn’t hurt. Casey even told him so when he pulled back seconds later.

Only a few drops of blood dotted Mason’s smug mouth as he responded, “Told ya so.”

The other boy’s hand gentle grasped Casey’s jaw, turning his head to the side to inspect the bite mark. “It’s not even going to leave a scar.” Mason sounded almost disappointed as he pointed that out and released Casey’s jaw.

“Mmm...” Casey felt a little sleepy now, relaxed. “So we’re a real pack now?”

“Yeah.” Mason let the slim teen curl up against his side.

Casey closed his eyes, leaning heavily into Mason’s heat. “Someday...I’m gonna be Alpha, too.”

Mason’s hand stroked gently over his blond and black spotted mop, petting so softly the touch almost wasn’t there. “It doesn’t work that way, kitten.” He muttered softly. “My pack.” Casey felt a brush against the top of his head; it felt different, maybe Mason’s lips instead of his hand. “Mine.”

~~~

“Owww!” Casey yelped, brought back to present as the teeth embedded in his neck twisted, tearing. Then just like that, the teeth were gone. Mason sat back on his heels, panting lightly, blood smeared on his mouth and chin. Casey’s blood. “What the fuck was that for?” he shouted at Mason, reaching up and holding a hand to the bite mark, blood seeping between his fingers.

“I had to bite you, remember? You wanted back in the pack.” Mason taunted lightly, getting up and heading back to the bathroom to wash his face off.

“I know that. But you didn’t have to shred. Dammit, Mason, that’ll probably leave a scar.”

Mason looked at him, a dangerous light in his eyes that made Casey wonder what was going through his head. “I know.” Mason threw a damp washcloth at his chest. “Clean yourself up.”

Casey careful scrubbed at the bite, it still felt raw, but was healing fast.

Mason came back from the bathroom, changed into a pair of black sweat pants and nothing else. Casey couldn’t tear his eyes away. Mason had always been fit, but now... His body looked matured, no trace of boyishness, muscles chiselled from what must have been hours and hours of hard work. His strength rippled with every step he took, controlled like a predator.

Mason pointed towards the floor. “Go to bed.”

Casey looked down at the familiar cushion. “There?”

“Where else?”

“I don’t know. I mean I thought maybe someone else was staying here, that’s why you still have the dog bed...”

“Shut up and go to sleep.”

Casey curled up on the cushion. It felt familiar, safe and warm...

As he drifted off he felt a touch, a hand stroking his hair, his jaw line, ghosting over his shoulder. Alpha, his inner cat sighed, releasing a tension it had been holding for two long years, a tension Casey hadn’t even acknowledged was there. Instinctively he rolled onto his back. He wasn’t even fully awake, just in a sleepy haze. The hand touched lower, petting his stomach through the soft, warm material of his hoodie. The hand kept petting, light and tentative, until he fell fully asleep – completely unaware that he was purring the whole time.

~~~

Casey woke-up in the middle of the night. His stomach rumbled, a reminder he hadn’t eaten in nearly 48 hours. Bacon and a strawberry poptart, he thought with a twinge of pain, Fuck, Shelby, why’d you have to go and get captured?

His hand instinctively passed over his neck. The wounds were all closed up now, but he could feel the oval of ridges left. He was disappointed to note he had been right about the scaring – it would be ugly. His stomach pangs increased. He needed something to eat.

Casey carefully, quietly crawled off the cushion, glancing up at Mason who was sleeping restlessly in the bed, one arm hung down over the side of the mattress.

Casey snuck out into the main room, silently opening up the cupboards and fridge to look for food. He found a bottle of coke, a can of tuna, and a box of stale Cheerios. He took the food over to his old recliner in the corner and sat down to stuff himself with a mix of cereal and tuna and washed it down with the pop. Tired, he then curled up on his familiar chair and fell back asleep, hand tucked under his chin, stroking the new scars.

~~~

He woke up the second time to the sound of a howling curse. Casey sat up, hearing the shuffle of blankets and then a crash – Mason running into the side table, he suspected. Mason then rushed out of the bedroom, hopping to stick his legs into his pants without slowing down.

Casey rubbed the heel of his hand over his eyes, groggy. “Something wrong? What is it?”

Mason skidded to a halt, his hand on the doorknob. Slowly, he turned back towards Casey, his face a mask of fury.

“Mase...?”

Mason approached him, tension stiffening his every movement. He grabbed Casey’s upper arm, his fingers like bands of steel. He jerked the tired boy up from the chair as if he weighed nothing. Casey stumbled after him as he dragged him back into the bedroom and flung him down on the ground. Casey landed on the cushion with grunt, his knees crashing into the floor hard.

“From now on, you don’t leave the bed without permission, understand, little bitch? You even have to get up in the middle of the night to piss you wake me up to ask, or YOU HOLD IT!? Got it?”

Casey looked down submissively, hoping that would appease Mason’s obviously unprovoked tantrum.

“Good. Now, go back to sleep, it’s early.” After giving the order, Mason climbed back into the bed, ignoring the other man.

Casey lay down on the cushion, but couldn’t go sleep, something was still bothering him. Where had Mason been running off to before?

~~~