avatar_Greggory Lennox

Never even rattled

Started by Greggory Lennox, Nov 14, 2018, 05:55 PM

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Things felt so out of sorts, ever since Gregg had been bitten. With success, he'd hidden the wound from his fellow hunter friends and he managed to hide the changes during the full moons that passed afterward. That first change had been arduous but he'd been lucky enough to find a werewolf just like him that showed him the ropes. Gregg thought of him with uncharacteristic fondness. Gregg wasn't normally one to feel deeply affectionate towards anyone.

He had friends in the other hunters but now he questioned how deeply those friendships really ran. Now that he was the Other, he couldn't help thinking they would turn on him in a heartbeat. They would kill him and he wasn't even sure it would be that tough for them. Maybe for Dom. If Dom was still around. But Dom had gone missing some time ago, written off as yet another hunter casualty in the war against the supernatural. But the way he disappeared... it wasn't new. Dom was just kinda like that--here one minute, gone the next.

So why did Gregg sense him here? He more than sensed him; he could smell him with his newly heightened senses. Dom. He was probably the closest person to a friend he'd made amongst the others but even he probably wouldn't understand. Unless he'd been bitten, too. He might have a reason for disappearing--and one similar to Gregg's reason for vanishing. The difference was, Gregg had only been missing for a few weeks. Dom... Dom had been gone for a long time this time. Probably some super secret job he didn't want to let the others in on. After all, bigger cut, depending on who he was working for.

Gregg cautiously stepped through the orange and red leaves, listening for any sign of other creatures in the forests nearby. What would Dom even be doing here... if it was him? All he knew was that there had been a note on his phone that looked like it had come from Dom. Note. Really it was just a photograph of these woods, as if it were a clue in some cruel game. In all honesty, Gregg partially thought it was a murderer, showing him where his friend's body had been buried.

But he smelled him and he smelled very much alive.

Gregg was a quiet man, so he didn't burst through the brush shouting and yelling his friend's name. In fact, he said nothing as he walked through the forest, just another leaf in the wind. It was only when he saw another man in his path that he stopped and it was only then that he spoke.

"Dominic," he said, rather formally, as if it hadn't been so long since his last appearance.

Q

    Dominic Bolton

You don't say no to The Forgotten. Dominic knew it better than anyone. He'd been working for them long enough. When the call came, in whatever form, it was time to do the job. Dom didn't what, where or how long it would take. Sometimes it's a day, other a month. Once he had to play the pool boy for a handsy stockbroker. It wasn't fun.

Getting to stay at home, in Hazleton, was a rare occasion. Managing it was even harder. At least his mother knew. Prudence knew everything. Dom tries not to talk about it. He can see the guilt in her eyes and it breaks his heart every time.

The gym is pretty accommodating. Dominic gets along with everyone, so no one minds if he takes a shift in another city. Besides, he is the night manager. No one wants to work nights, so the coworkers see it as taking one for the team.

Dominic's friendships were another story. It's hard to keep them going when you disappear without notice and can't tell anyone. Many hunters live a secretive lifestyle but it doesn't make it easier. Dom hates lying to his friends. Telling them is not an option. They won't understand. You can't convince them you are human when you can pull a sword from your chest.

The only exception was Greggory. When Dominic first came to Hazelton, Gregg was the first friend he made. He was the first person outside of the Templar he had a chance to bond with. He even followed Gregg into hunting. It wasn't so different from being a Templar, just less uppity about their 'mission'. He thought about telling Gregg many of times, most of them when had had a few drinks. But the sense of long pale finger reaching out from the darkness stopped him from spilling his secret.

It had been a while since Dominic had last had the chance to talk with Gregg, even longer since he last saw him. It was time. It was better to do this somewhere private and away from the town. The picture seemed like a fun idea. Hunters know the surrounding areas like no one else. Or maybe The Forgotten's cryptic clues were rubbing off on him.

Dominic waited in the forest but he didn't have to wait for long. It was a good sign. A part of him was worried Gregg might not come. But there he was... just too serious.

"Greggory," Dominic responded, just a hint of mockery in his tone. He lasted a few seconds before he went up and hugged the guy. Dom was an affectionate guy to his friends. What can you do? "Man, it's been too long. Busy times, you know," he prattled.

"My car is just over there," Dom pointed further down the road where he had parked his pickup. "I've got a cooler with beer and soda." He might be jumping the gun here but he had always had such a great time with Gregg. He hoped his absences hadn't completely ruined that.

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Oof. As he was wont to, Gregg seized up, tensing even under his friend's hug. Perhaps not as much as he might have in the past, though. Lately, he'd been softening up, although he didn't expect the gesture so suddenly from Dom. He allowed it; Dom was a closer friend than any of his others so... He allowed it. Really, he should have expected it--it was such a Dom thing to do. Breathing again after Dom stepped back, Gregg regarded his old friend. There were a lot of things he wanted to say but he just couldn't. There were secrets that even the closest friends couldn't learn.

"Yeah," he nodded, heading in the direction Dom indicated his truck was. Beers and sodas sounded good. Gregg had always had a taste for good alcohol (not so much beer, to be honest) but he had been wary of drinking too much now that he wasn't fully human anymore. The idea of changing because he lost control terrified him more than he'd ever let on.

"You here because of the deaths?"

    Dominic Bolton

Dominic's pick up was not far. The tailgate was down and the cooler sat ready to be opened and enjoyed. Gregg seemed a bit tense but some might say Dom seems a bit too eager. It's not far from the truth. He always felt he had to try harder around Gregg. The guy was so cool. He could have picked anyone as his friend but he picked the strange new guy who couldn't talk about his past. That was a long time ago but the fact remained Gregg was still cool and Dom was happy to have him as a friend.

Dom tapped the top of the cooler. His eyes widened if fake shock, "What? Deaths? Here? No?" Too much snarky sarcasm there but he went with it. "I wasn't thinking about the job, to be honest." He opened the cooler and showed off a selection of drinks – all the classics. Dominic liked to bring in a little variety. It isn't just beer or soda. It's an experience... a common one but whatever.

Dom sat on the tailgate and hunched over a little, "I thought we should talk and catch up. It's been a while. You've been busy. I've been busy." By busy, Dom meant disappearing without a trace for a time and then showing up as if nothing had happened. It was a packed word. "I thought it's better to do it here. More space. Less nosy eavesdroppers."

"So," Dominic grabbed a diet Dr. Pepper for himself, "how have you been? How is everything?"

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The usual Dominic snark. Gregg's lips quirked upward into a brief lopsided half-smile. He let out a soft, derisive snort. Bloke wasn't lying, though. Deaths here in Hazleton? No shocker there. The death toll was just piling up and 'tis the season and all that. Seemed like autumn was the perfect time for the ghouls and goblins to come out of hiding to tear humans apart or accost them, never to be seen as a human again. The thought of that made Gregg's gaze soften and his chest tighten so he looked away, hoping to keep his queer expression from Dominic's sharp observational skills.

Luckily, it seemed Dominic was in his own world, too. Hunched over and saying something about talking. Usual things. Dominic wanted to talk about something serious. Not their work. Something personal. He didn't take that tone with just anyone and Gregg knew it. Did it have anything to do with whatever kept him busy? It seemed as if the word held an edge to it. Gregg tilted his head and regarded Dominic for a long moment before reaching over into the cooler for a drink, too. He didn't know what it was until he had it. And of course it was a beer. Not wanting to appear suspicious, Gregg hesitated only a second before cracking it open and taking a small sip of it.

"I've been... better," he said finally, although he knew he was eventually going to have to say something to Dominic. Becoming a werewolf wasn't the only Big Strange Thing to happen to him since Dominic had been away. But he'd get into his bullshit after Dominic came out with whatever was on his mind first. Maybe it would give Gregg more courage to say something for himself.

"What've you been so busy with? I don't even think you've texted me in an age."

    Dominic Bolton

This situation was too tense. Dominic wasn't a fan. Usually, there was a buffer, something to distract from the unspoken secrets. Hunting stuff. Work stuff. Family stuff. Boy stuff. Stuff. At this moment they faded into nothing. It was just the secret.

The worst thing was that Dom couldn't predict the outcome. He thought of Gregg as his best friend. Some part of him hoped he'd understand. Another part of him knew hunters too well. There's an anger there that doesn't just go away when your friends are involved. Usually, it gets worse. But Dom wants to believe there is more in this man than just a hunter.

It didn't help that Gregg seemed closed off. It wasn't normal. Then again, no hunter is. If you find a hunter who's OK in the head, they aren't doing it right. The amount of death they see sticks with them. It's like with police detectives. Unlike them, hunters not only see it, but they cause it as well. That leaves an even bigger mark.

Finally, Dominic's friend spoke. Not that it was a very illuminating answer. In fact, it created more questions. Something was up with Gregg. Dom was sure at this point. So, they both had secrets. That's nice. A bonding moment, if you will. That sounds too much like something too good to be true.

"Yeah," Dominic stretched the word, trying to figure out how to say that his phone operator didn't provide international texting services. "I've been meaning to, just something always comes up. Work stuff, you know. Night manager stuff. Oh, I was promoted to night manager at the gym. Not a big deal." Dominic had thought about taking Gregg out to celebrate when he found out but he had been dragged off by The Forgotten. The other job was much more demanding.

It felt awful lying to Gregg. Maybe it was time. Maybe if Dominic just said it. Maybe that was the right thing to do. Or maybe the hunter in Gregg would prevail and they would have to fight.

The what ifs were useless. The best option right now was to start off small and see how Gregg reacts. "So... I fucked a vampire," Dom just spat out. "Didn't know he was one until after but still. So that happened."

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"A promotion." Gregg nodded. That explained some of the extra work, then. Dominic hadn't always been so busy, though. When they were younger, they had a lot more time to each other. There were stupid things to talk about back then and there were no secrets, at least not on Gregg's end. He was an honest type, he just didn't have a lot to say. He'd been told by some of the others that he might've been quiet but when he did speak up, people listened. Gregg was satisfied with this. Most of the time, anyway. He had no desire to become the chatty member of their little collection of hunters.

Gregg took another sip from the beer, maybe a little more than the last one. The alcohol was light; it wasn't really doing much for him, actually. He slowly lowered the can to his thigh and let out a soft breath. Then it felt like he could feel everything just stop in time. At first, he thought he heard wrong. Dominic? Fucking a vampire? Almost worth a laugh. But with the atmosphere as tense as it was, as serious as it was, there was no wrong way to hear it. Dominic. Fucked. A vampire.

For a long and overly silent moment, Gregg couldn't look up or over at Dominic. His gaze remained fixed on the beer in his hand. He could smell it, the beer. He could smell Dominic, too. He could smell things he hadn't really put together before--emotions. Something... something not altogether unpleasant but something hesitant. It matched the mood. Dominic was completely being honest with him.

Slowly, Gregg rolled his shoulders back, trying to untie all the knots he felt forming the moment things became strained between them. Gregg didn't like it; they weren't normally this way together. In fact, for the longest time, Dominic was the single person he didn't feel like he had to be on guard with. Now here they were, and he was protecting somebody from something. A couple of somebodies, actually. From different things. But sorta the same.

Gregg knocked back the rest of the can in several long, noisy gulps before crushing it in his hand and carelessly tossing it behind him somewhere in the back of the truck. Then he turned toward Dominic. A part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity but he couldn't seem to access that emotion right now.

"Huh," was all he said for the longest stretch of a moment. He looked Dominic over, as if to study his best friend. His green eyed gaze wandered from Dominic's throat--was there a bite mark?--to the hand that held his drink--did it shiver or shake? Then he was back to looking Dom in the eyes. Then, ever so languorously, Gregg leaned back with his palms against the cold metal of the truck bed before he looked up at the sky line.

"I fucked a werewolf." His voice was so quiet that it was barely audible. "I knew he was one."

    Dominic Bolton

Dominic wasn't sure why he thought things would go back to normal in a snap. He'd been hiding his secret for so long it had become second nature to live around it. It didn't make it easier. It made it livable. As did the time with his mother and Gregg. He thought he was good at managing time. Now Dom wasn't sure. Had the distance between friends chipped away at their relationship?

As if that wasn't enough, Dominic got the strange sense that Gregg was hiding something. He was withdrawn more than usual. He'd never been a chatterbox but this was unusually quiet for him. Was this what Dom was like when it let it slip? No, probably not. Dominic can't keep his mouth shut. Silence for Dom was like cooking an egg on asphalt – wrong.

Talking was a joy for Dominic and so it shouldn't surprise him how good it felt to get a tiny secret out there. That fucking vampire played him like a fiddle. So innocent and kind. Then BAM! Fangs. He was hungry after the romp and he wasn't in the mood to go hunt down some unfortunate soul. That fucker was sly. He knew Dom was a hunter. He knew he couldn't tell anyone. And he knew how much he'd hate himself after.

Dom waited for a response. He didn't know what would happen. Some hunters kill you because they think you are tainted. Others refuse to acknowledge you even exist. There are some who don't mind sex with supernatural creatures but they don't bother themselves with consent. It's just a fucked up power play.

Dominic wanted to know what was going on in Gregg's head. He knew he was different. A friend. He would understand. After all, he fucked a werewolf... Wait, what?
"You did what?" Dominic bellowed. "That came out way too judgmental. Let me rephrase – you fucked a werewolf? On purpose?"

Here Dominic thought he was going to drop a bombshell and here Gregg had one of his own. "OK... OK. Was it... a one-night thing or are you...?"

Dom didn't know how to ask this. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to know. You can't just forget if your best friend and fellow hunter has feelings for a werewolf. Does it even matter? If Dominic had to choose between some bullshit hunter's creed or Gregg, he'd pick Gregg without a second thought. It's not like Dom hates all supernatural creatures. He only hates those who kill innocent people. His hate is purely based on a case-by-case basis. Nothing else.

"You know what," Dominic picked a bottle from the cooler and set it next to Gregg. "You should slow down with the booze. Have some sparkling lemonade instead."
If this secret was making his friend feel like this, Dominic had to do the responsible thing, besides cooling Gregg's drinking rolls – make him feel like the normal one. "Remember how I don't talk about my childhood? That's because I was an orphan taken in by Templars who forced me to perform a ritual where I was taken by a primordial thing with half a face, called The Forgotten, that took part of my soul and turned it into a sword and then I came back and killed a bunch of Templars and my mother, who is really one of my Templar trainers, ran off with me and now I'm technically hiding from them and I also do some weird jobs for The Forgotten all around the world and that's why I disappear from time to time."

Word vomit. Dominic loves to talk after all. "So, how was sex with a werewolf?" There wasn't a way to smoothly transition from that. "Oh, and the sword is in my chest." Dominic wondered if he brought any strong alcohol with him. Probably not. Damn.

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"That still sounded judgmental," Gregg informed Dom but it was with a very slight half smile. Because this was Dom, he felt more able to express himself. Still, a part of him was waiting for more than judgment. Part of him was waiting for a knife to the throat. Silver. A silver knife to ensure that he didn't heal up. As if it had already happened, Gregg lightly ran his fingertips over his own throat. Still intact.

Actually, he might have preferred death to answering questions about what transpired between him and that other werewolf. Aldon, was his name. He was the one wolf that Gregg felt comforted by. Somehow, they grew closer with time and... one thing led to another. Dom might have fucked a vampire but he didn't know that's what he was. He'd probably been mesmerized and now he regretted it and he'd never do it again. Gregg felt his sins heavily across his back, knowing that he knew what Aldon was from the start and letting him touch him anyway.

Dom didn't look disgusted, though, not the way some of the other blokes would've. He could just imagine the judgment in Jem's eyes. He shuddered to think what would happen next if he knew. Gregg wouldn't just be kicked out of the group. He'd be hunted, too. And he wasn't so sure Jem would give him a head start.

"Thanks," he said as he took the lemonade. While he opened it, he added, "And it wasn't a one night stand."

He didn't want to leave Dom hanging but he didn't want to open up the discussion about himself yet. Not when Dom was spilling more about himself, like how he didn't talk about his childhood much. Truthfully, not a lot of them did but yeah, it was kinda weird a guy like Dom didn't. Dom was so openly talkative that it seemed natural for him to tell them everything. Especially Gregg.

He remained silent as Dom spoke. It was a lot to take in but after only a moment, Gregg nodded once. It was no wonder Dom didn't want to talk about it, then. His past sounded like something better left behind. Too bad it seemed he couldn't shrug it off the way Gregg did his own. Not if he had to work for this weirdo called The Forgotten. How Forgotten is he if Dom knows him? How did one become unforgettable in that instance? Probably best to leave this thing Forgotten, honestly.

Gregg gave Dom a Look at his question about sex with the werewolf. Not so important after what Dom just talked about. Gregg held up a hand.

"No. No. What kind of jobs do you do for this thing? And let me see it. Your sword."

    Dominic Bolton

This wasn't the plan for the day. First Dominic revealed that he slept with a fucking vampire whose name shall never pass the man's lips again. Then Gregg said he slept with a werewolf, knew he was doing it and it wasn't a one-time thing. And then Dom blabbed about being a Templar on the run with a broken soul working for an all-powerful being and he had a sword in his chest. How did it come to this?

Not the weirdness. This is Hazelton after all. Along with all the deaths, weirdness is up there with common occurrences. Rather it was the friendship that worried Dominic. All of these secrets, most of them his, they kept inside instead of sharing. Dom looked at Gregg and saw that it wasn't good for him. He might not be a chatty sharer but he deserved to have someone who he could trust without any fear or doubt. That little hand movement Gregg did, touching his neck. Dom knew why. Hunters go for the neck. It's one of the basic moves. You can incapacitate nearly anything when you slit their throat. That Gregg felt that around him... it hurt.

But it made sense. Dominic was scared to share the truth. With every word that came out of his mouth, he felt no anger or disappointment. Gregg was just Gregg. He was simple in the best way possible. A friend.

Not that said friend was going to change the subject so easily. Dom picked it up not that it was subtle in any way. "Well, sometimes it's the same thing we do as hunters," he started, pretending to let go of any interest in Gregg's sex life. "I've gone after cultists, vampires, ancient shadow monsters, mummies – all the usual suspects. Sometimes it's people, bad people. But then there's weird stuff too. I had to steal an ice cream truck once. I guarded a wedding. I had to be a naked model for a sketching class. I had to take part in a grape stomping competition. I had to sleep with a member of the Swiss Guard. I say had to but... he was hot so it wasn't really a problem." Dom was very open about his sex life... or currently lack thereof.

"Here's the deal – I show you my sword and you tell me about your werewolf. Because if you are dating him, we are going to have to make sure the other guys don't find out." Dominic made it sound as if this was happening whether Gregg wanted it or not. Dom was there for his best friend even if that meant helping him get it on with a werewolf.

"Now for the sword," Dominic said, in his head the deal made. He closed his eyes and focused. It was easy to do but it was far from fun. In the heat of battle, it barely registered. The sword flew out into the fight. Here, in the calm of the forest together with Gregg, it was a different story. The hilt was the first to appear from Dom's chest. A faint dark purple light emanated from the slightly exposed dimension the sword was coming from. The guard opened up the hole even more. That didn't hurt so much as it was uncomfortable. The blade was the worst. It slid out slowly like the most sadistic kind of paper cut.

Dominic sword floated out and hovered above the cooler. The opening in Dom's chest closed as soon as the blade was out. It was as if nothing had happened. His shirt was fine and there was no bleeding. If you didn't see it, it's hard to believe. He acted very blasé about the whole thing. He'd seen it too many times. "You want to touch my sword," Gregg asked. "Yes, I've used that line before and it worked." He was too playful about it, but it didn't matter. He felt that deep connection of friendship again. He couldn't help himself. "Now tell me about your werewolf." It didn't make Dom forget.

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The list of tasks Dom had taken on started out pretty much exactly like any hunters' list. Then it got weirder the more it tapered on. And then it got to the part where Dom had to sleep with somebody and while Dom seemed happy to do so, it made Gregg wonder--what would have happened if it was somebody unattractive to him? Would he have been forced into the scenario just the same? The thought made Gregg's skin crawl. Funny how he could kill a devil creature without remorse but the idea of his friend basically being forced to have sex--essentially raped in a way--still got to him.

And here he thought he'd been so good at separating his emotions from... well everything. Gregg worked pretty damn hard to be the shell that he was now. It was easier in his line of work not to grow attached or to develop feelings for anybody. Hunters died in their line of work. Gregg had seen it, had felt the pain of loss. He didn't want to like anybody, not anybody in the group, not anybody within the wolf pack. Anybody.

Yet here he was again. Wondering about his friendship with Dom. Worried about his feelings for Aldon.

His gaze snapped back up to meet Dom's when he switched back to werewolves. Gregg's brow furrowed but he didn't argue the point. He didn't need to see this sword thing that badly. In fact, he wished he could just tell Dom to shove it and kiss his ass and leave. He would have if he had been anybody else. Instead, it was Dom and he made himself sit there with that new drink in his hands, made himself watch while Dom drew his sword.

Gregg's lips parted slightly--it looked painful. A sword coming out of a man's chest? He almost wished he hadn't asked about it because watching Dom pull that thing out was... yeesh. That's what it was. Yeesh. And there it was. Floating, all mystical like. Uh. Dom had a much bigger secret than Gregg ever had. They might have been one for one with the vampire versus the werewolf thing. Except Dom hadn't become a vampire and Gregg was a werewolf. Uh... Did he mention that yet?

No. So. Maybe they were still equals on the secret keeping deal.

"Yeah," he said with sarcasm. "I want to touch your sword." But he did reach out to touch it, careful not to run his hand over the actual edges. Just because Dom didn't bleed didn't mean it wouldn't cut the shit out of Gregg. He dropped his hand when Dom brought up werewolves again. Suppressing the urge to sigh, Gregg shook his head and lowered it, running a hand over his hair while he stalled. What to say? How much to share? Dom just showed him that he could pull a whole sword out of his chest. The least Gregg could do was give him a bite.

"He's..." Gregg trailed off. "What do you want to know? How we met? Why I fucked him? How I knew he was a werewolf and I still fucked him anyway...?"

    Dominic Bolton

Honestly... Dominic hated the sword. It's a cool sword, no doubt about that. It's the closest thing to a lightsaber you'd ever find. He's unstoppable. The perfect killing machine. That's a problem on its own but manageable.

It's the whispers. Little things. The guy at the gym who can't park his car to save his life. The blond at the coffee shop who spend way too much time ordering the exact same drink every day. That twink that called him daddy. Every little thing that pisses Dom off is stuck in that sword. When it's out, he can hear those threads in the wind. Holding it... it's like being stuck between two massive speakers. Every little thought pumped into his head harder and harder until Dom snaps. Then it's all red.

None of them were about Gregg though. Or Dom's mom. The people who mattered. Even now, after what he had learned, Dominic wasn't angry with Gregg. He was disappointed in himself. When you live around death, you need your people, people you can turn to. Dom wasn't there for Gregg when he needed him. Those times need to be made up for the sake of their friendship.

"Oh, all the guys say that," Dom chuckled in response to Gregg. "No, wait – that makes seem like I sleep around. Damn, burned myself." He didn't mind being a bit of a fool. At least his friend got a bit of life back into him. That was more important than Dom's image. The day Dominic stars caring about his image is the day someone needs to slap some sense into him.

It was strange letting someone touch his sword. Dom felt it in his... soul or what's left of it. A warm touch somewhere deep inside. It sounds weirder than it actually is. It was nice, not that it lasted for long. This werewolf topic is bringing Gregg down. But it's important. Dominic needs to get to the bottom of it.

Dominic grabbed the sword from the air. In his hand, it was barely the weight of a feather. He put it to the side so it wouldn't hang above their heads during their conversation. "I think I know why you fucked him," Dominic said, "You like him. And that's OK."

"Listen," Dom sat back a little, trying to get comfortable sitting on hard metal. "I'm not judging you. I'm going to get sappy for just a moment. We've been friends since I arrived in Hazelton when I was a weird kid no one got. But you did. Hunters. Templars. Fuck all of them. They'd throw me under the bus in a heartbeat if they needed to. But I know I can trust you, Gregg. I trust you with my life. And I have your back. Whatever is going on with you and this werewolf, you can tell me. And I'll be there. Faceless overlords be damned."

Dominic smiled at Gregg, a slightly crooked beaming smile. "Sappy moment over. Now, tell me everything – starting with are you in love with a werewolf?"

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"I'm sure they do," he said only to placate his best friend. It didn't really matter to Gregg whether Dom slept around a lot or not. He was something of a flirt sometimes so it wouldn't surprise him. Gregg didn't normally let business mingle with romance, as one might call it. The last romantic encounters Gregg had before Aldon came in the form of paid bodies that came in the night, did their work, and left. It kept things separate, something he'd been doing so well at before.

Now it was all a muddled mess, complicated as things tend to become when feelings begin to take root. Wary eyes watched the sword as it was settled away from them. Gregg wanted to touch it again but he got the feeling Dom had enough of that. Maybe it was like a physical sensation. That sort of took the idea and crumpled it up. Yeah well, Dom was the one who offered so!

"Hn." That was the sound Gregg made in response to Dom guessing correctly that Gregg liked the werewolf. It was something like a grunt and a low hum. He didn't like how close Dom came to the heart of the matter and he tried to brush it off with a mere shrug. Maybe. Maybe not. He didn't plan to commit to saying one way or the other. Let Dom think what he wanted to.

Shit. Here came the "sappy" stuff. Gregg tilted his head slightly but he remained silent while Dom waxed poetic about their friendship. Yeah, Dom was a weird kid when they met but Gregg was hardly normal. Back then, he had real issues. Like anger issues and detachment issues. Over the years, he had definitely mellowed out but there was still some part of him that tended to detach when things were getting too serious.

"Sounds like you're just getting sappier," Gregg pointed out, since they went from sappy friendship banter to talking about being in love. Gregg shrugged again, this time out of discomfort.

"Yeah," he said after a beat too long. "Maybe. I don't know."

    Dominic Bolton

Dominic wished he could read Gregg better. It's like he keeps everyone just on the edge of the mist. You know something is there. You know it's important but he's not letting you see it. It's not like Dom can blame him. He's done the same. Yet he shares everything else to compensate. They aren't on the same page. They aren't even in the same book. Gregg is a collection of poetry – few words hiding the deep truth. And Dom is a twelve-volume epoch that no one bothers to read – so much clutter that the meaning gets lost. Then again, maybe they are the same in their own way.

But the Templar did catch on to signs in Gregg's body language – Dom was right. Not that he ever doubted it. For a hunter to sleep with any supernatural creature, knowingly, there had to be a good reason. And sex pollen is not a thing.

Dominic wondered what kind of guy his friend was into. Apparently, someone with an animalistic sex drive. Can't blame Gregg for that. But Dom's never seen him pick anyone up. Not even when he dragged Gregg to that gay bar. Not really a scene for two hunters but they needed a break. If Gregg did go hook up with anyone it would have been after Dom left... with a 7'2'' basketball player. He didn't want to leave but Gregg said he was fine and you can't pass up that kind of opportunity. Talk about being out of your league.

"Nah," Dominic replied, "My sappy stuff is done. Now it's your sappy stuff. Those are two entirely different sappies." He thought about saying sappy a few more times just to annoy Gregg some more. Just for a laugh if nothing else.

The Templar took a deep breath. There was something in that response. Obviously, there was. Gregg was in love with a werewolf and didn't want to admit it. A werewolf and a hunter. That's got a nice ring of forbidden romance to it. Prudence would get such a kick out of this. She loves that shit. It's a plot straight out of one of lady porn books.

"Man, you and your stiff upper lip," Dominic sighed. "How's that your most British quality? It's not a fault to say that you care. It doesn't make you any less of a person to say that you love someone. I mean I love you. Like a friend. I wouldn't sleep with you though – no offense." Maybe if they were both really drunk. Nah, that's happened and they both just passed out on the bed... and then Gregg shoved Dominic to the floor in the middle of the night. That's the kind of thing you tolerate in a friend but not in a lover.

"I mean it must be nice to have someone. Someone special. I've got you and mom," and Blaise for some fucking reason because life loves to be a bitch.

Not life, my Templar

Dominic ignored that little interruption there. He didn't let it draw his attention from Gregg and asked, "Am I wrong?"

  • these chemicals will take their toll
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People often called Gregg "frigid" or "asexual" or whatever else. One of the guys even called him a prude, to which he was invited to a view of Gregg's middle finger. It wasn't like Gregg had no sex drive or that he wasn't attracted to people. It was just that he learned real early on to leave that shit out of his life. All it did was make everything complicated--and he learned most of the lessons just from watching others. He didn't need that shit in his life. He just needed to work and sleep. Occasionally go to the bar, get a little drunk... to make it easier to sleep.

Gregg also spent time at the gym. He enjoyed listening to music. He liked training for combat. He could do all those things at once and he often spent hours doing just that.

There was time spent with friends, too. He trailed after Dom or he was dragged along on his escapades. Not the sex ones or anything but he was there with him when his friend "scored" it big with interesting... people. Gregg wasn't sure how else to put it. Dom had a higher sex drive, it seemed, and he wasn't shy about it.

Gregg tapped his leg, tip of his tongue against his teeth, about to open his mouth and speak--to argue. Instead he kept his mouth shut. Yes, they were switching "sappies" as Dominic so cutely put it. Gregg edged a half glare in Dom's direction, not altogether happy how close he kept getting to the truth. That was what happened when friends were made. They got to know things and they used what they knew to uncover the truth.

"Is it?" he asked, somewhat amused that his so-called stiff upper lip should be the most British thing about him. Maybe it was, though. The friend that called him a prude alluded to that, too. As if Brits were a bunch of posh and repressed people. Hah. If only they knew. Gregg let out a soft snort. Yeah, yeah. They wouldn't sleep with each other. There had been chances for that and they'd been passed so Gregg believed that--and he appreciated that he had a friend so close that they could share everything but that.

"Doesn't that mean I got you?" Gregg said, with a slight raise of a brow. What, Dom wasn't enough special people for him? Dom was saying he had only Gregg and his mom, for fuck's sake. Sighing, Gregg shook his head. "It's not that. Admitting it. It's the fact that..."

How did he put it delicately?

"I chose a line of work that directly interferes with... us."

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