This short story was written to celebrate 400 members in Pavlik’s Pavilion! It takes place at the end of Silence of the Moon before the epilogue. It is mostly spoiler-free but best enjoyed after reading Silence.
A Quiet Night in with Alec and Damien
Damien smiled softly, standing just past the threshold to the apartment he now shared with Alec on the second floor of Haven Bar and Grill. His stomach rumbled as he leaned against the wall, waiting for Alec to retrieve their dinner from the kitchen downstairs.
Home, sweet home.
Well, almost. The apartment was still a blank slate—filled with the potential to be a home. Their home.
He chuckled to himself. Now there was a word that held a wealth of meanings.
Some considered home as simply a place of residence. For others, home meant safety and warmth. A roof over their head. The place they returned to every night.
Then there were those where home could only be a luxurious abode filled to the brim with worldly possessions. Damien didn’t understand people like that, but their views were just as valid as those who put merit in solitude. Where home meant a simple cabin in the woods. An escape when the world became too much to bear.
Home could be people, places, or things. Thoughts, feelings, or memories.
The possibilities were endless.
To Damien, home wasn’t tied to where he lived or where he slept at night. It wasn’t a room with four walls filled with material things. No, he went by the adage home is where the heart is.
His heart belonged to Alec. From the shy, insecure man Damien had fallen in love with … to the growly possessive wolf Alec had grown into over the past several months. Wherever he and Alec lived could be home—because they were together.
Looking back, the Arena Crossing Apartment had never felt like a home, even with Alec there. Because Alec hadn’t really been there. Sure, he’d slept in Damien’s bed nightly. Hell, they spent every waking and non-working hour in each other’s presence that they could.
But nothing of Alec’s personality had existed in the old apartment. It’d been filled with Damien’s possessions. Not theirs.
Starting fresh … with this blank slate before him? Didn’t seem so bad when he thought about it that way. They’d been given the chance to build something as a couple this time.
Build a home.
The door beside Damien swung open and Alec stepped into the apartment with a reusable shopping bag filled to the brim with takeout containers from the bar. Haven may not have officially opened yet, but Harper had tasked the new chef with revamping the menu.
Which meant someone needed to taste test the meals.
“That smells amazing.” The heavenly aromas of spices and barbecue sauce overpowered anything else that could be inside. Damien’s mouth watered as Alec set the bag on the kitchen island and began unloading the haul.
Damien rubbed his palms together and sidled up behind Alec, peering over his shoulder at the growing pile of containers. Alec leaned into Damien’s arms with a soft, contented sigh and tipped his head back for a kiss, which Damien happily obliged.
He let himself get lost in Alec for a moment, food temporarily forgotten, and nipped playfully at Alec’s lower lip. Pulling away, he expected the brilliant smile which would light Alec’s emerald eyes—had the sunglasses not been covering them. Damien hadn’t installed the new blackout curtains yet, but it was on the to-do list for tonight.
Anything to ensure Alec’s comfort in his own home.
Instead, a frown furrowed Alec’s brow as they pulled apart. Damien smoothed it away with his thumb and nuzzled Alec’s cheek. “What’s bothering you, love?”
“Sorry.” A wry smile curved Alec’s lips, and he shook his head briefly with a tiny shrug. “It’s nothing, really. Just … this place smells wrong.”
Come again? “Wrong how?”
Alec huffed out a breath even as his cheeks flushed. He shook his head again and kissed Damien’s nose. “We haven’t been here long enough, that’s all. It doesn’t smell like you, yet. Like us.”
A dirty chuckle escaped Damien as he nibbled along Alec’s neck and jaw, pausing at his ear to whisper, “Well … we can certainly do something about that.”
Laughter bubbled out of Alec as his face finally lit up with the smile Damien had expected earlier. “Not what I meant, a rúnsearc.”
Maybe not, but Damien had to try. Totally worth it to see Alec smile.
Damien took on a nonchalant tone and shrugged. “Fair enough.” Swiping a takeout container from the counter, he rounded the island to fetch silverware from the drawer. Harper had tossed a handful of forks, spoons, and butter knives in there earlier—after learning they still hadn’t bought new ones.
It was on the list.
So much to do, and not a lot of time to do any of it. Damien only had a couple of weeks off before his job would get in the way again.
Alec pressed against Damien and reached into the drawer, tangling their fingers together. He paused, growling low in Damien’s ear, “It would certainly help.” Damien groaned and turned to steal another kiss, but Alec flitted away with a fork in his hand and a wide grin on his face. “But I’m starving. Let’s eat.”
“Who’s the tease, now?” Damien grumbled, but opened his container to reveal a trio of perfectly grilled barbecue meatballs. Normally they’d eat on the couch, pressed against each other. Except they currently had no couch. There’d been a delay, and it’d take a minimum of another week—if not more—before the one they’d ordered would arrive.
At least their bed had arrived on time.
They didn’t even have bar stools for the island yet. Damien took a bite of meatball and moaned, the perfect mixture of spices and barbecue a momentary distraction.
Alec chuckled softly. “Must be good.”
“Fuck, this is amazing,” Damien said with his mouth full. After swallowing, he frowned. “We really need some furniture or something. Think Harper would let us borrow a couple of stools from downstairs for now?”
“Do you have a death wish, a stór?”
Yeah, no. Alec was right. Harper would maim him at best. She’d just finally gotten the bar put together.
It’d be fun to try, though.
Maybe Damien didn’t have very healthy self-preservation instincts after all.
“I have an idea.” Alec placed his unopened container back on the counter and stalked into their bedroom. Hadn’t they just vetoed that idea? Not that Damien would complain, but … Alec emerged a moment later with a large blanket in his arms. “Help me fold this and we can sit on the floor. Have a picnic.”
Brilliant. Damien set his fork down and strode to Alec, pressing a sound kiss to his lips. “I love the way you think, sweetheart.”
They made quick work of the blanket, spreading it out along the wall in what would be their living room. They grabbed their dinner from the kitchen before sitting shoulder-to-shoulder in the nest they’d made.
Alec finally took a bite of his chosen dish and let out the most erotic sound Damien had ever heard from his boyfriend—outside the bedroom. “This is fecking amazing. Where in the worlds did she find this chef?”
Damien had no clue, but if Harper wanted them to make home-cooked meals more often, she should’ve rethought the chef for the bar. After not-so-subtly adjusting his half-hard cock, Damien peered into Alec’s container. “Is that steak?”
“Prime rib.” The meat was a perfect, juicy medium-rare and Damien watched in awe as Alec cut it with a fork and nothing else. Alec carefully speared the piece on the tines and held it out toward Damien. “Want to try some?”
Fuck yes. Damien groaned and reached for the sample, but Alec shoved Damien’s hand aside with a growl. What …? Before Damien could ask, Alec plucked the meat off the fork with his other hand, pressing the offering to Damien’s lips.
Damien moaned the moment the flavor hit his tongue, the piece practically melting in his mouth as he chewed and swallowed. Grinning, he grasped Alec’s wrist before he could pull away, sucking the juice off each finger. Alec’s nostrils flared as he, too, adjusted his cock.
“My turn.” Grin widening, Damien broke a chunk of meatball off of the one he’d already tried and brought it to Alec’s lips.
With another low growl, Alec pulled the morsel into his mouth, along with Damien’s fingers. He thoroughly twined his tongue around each one, even as he swallowed the piece of meat. Pleasure shot straight to Damien’s groin as though his fingers were connected directly to his dick.
“Mmm, that is good.” Alec sat back with a sly smirk. “Smells like more than one kind of barbecue on each of yours. Have you tried them all yet?”
They were different? Damien stabbed at the middle meatball and took a small bite. The richer, sweeter barbecue was a perfect contrast to the tangier flavor from the first. He held a piece up for Alec to taste—on his fork this time. If they kept hand feeding each other, they’d never finish dinner.
Alec slid his lips sensually around the fork, a soft hum of pleasure escaping him as he sat back and swallowed. With a wicked tilt to his head, Alec broke a sizeable portion off of the last meatball and placed it between his teeth, leaning in for a kiss.
“Fuck,” Damien breathed, setting the container aside before hooking a finger under Alec’s chin. Their lips met around the taste of honeyed barbecue, the meatball breaking apart with their kiss. Quickly chewing and swallowing, Damien licked into Alec’s mouth to chase the flavor.
“The food’s going to get cold,” Alec murmured against Damien’s lips.
Fuck the food. “We have a microwave.”
Laughing, Alec wrapped a leg around Damien’s hip and climbed into his lap, kissing deeper. Damien slid his hands up into Alec’s shirt, caressing the smooth skin on his back as their tongues dueled. Alec’s mouth tasted of a heady combination of wildness, prime rib, and the trio of barbecue.
Honestly, they may be on to something with this flavor.
Probably shouldn’t put it on the menu, though.
Mentally shaking his head at himself, Damien snaked a hand between them to undo the button on his fly before moving on to Alec’s. He broke the kiss just long enough to check in. “Okay?”
“Always.” Alec closed the scant distance between them again and speared his tongue into Damien’s mouth, momentarily distracting him from the task at hand. Alec huffed an amused breath, swatting Damien’s hands out of the way and undoing his own jeans.
Their cocks were both hard as steel as they freed them from the confines of denim. Damien’s brain finally caught back up with the program and he wrapped his hand around their lengths.
Fuuuck, they hadn’t had enough time for this lately. He wouldn’t last long.
They moaned as one when Damien stroked their erections together, dry friction an exquisite edge of pleasure and pain. Neither of them had thought this through, had they? He spread their precum along each other’s lengths, but it wasn’t enough.
Alec dug around in a bag of rolls beside him until he held up a small, foil wrapped square of … “Butter?” Damien asked, breaking the kiss in bewilderment.
Alec’s cheeks grew bright red as he shrugged sheepishly. “The lube is in the bedroom, if you’d prefer?”
Yeah, fuck that. “Butter works for me.” Damien fumbled hurriedly with the packet until he got it open. Quickly greasing up his palms, he discarded the foil—butter and all—somewhere on the blanket near his knee and gripped their lengths again. Alec tilted his head back with a pleasure-filled whine.
This time the glide was as smooth as—Damien snorted, his hand stuttering for a moment before speeding up.
“What …” Alec panted and nipped at Damien’s neck. “What on earth is … so funny?”
Ah hell, if Damien couldn’t laugh during sex … he kissed along Alec’s neck and murmured into his ear, “Smooth as butter.”
Shaking in silent laughter, Alec nuzzled Damien’s face. “Never change, a rúnsearc.”
Damien captured Alec’s lips in another kiss as he encouraged Alec to rut into his hand. The glide of their cocks against each other sent sparks of pleasure along Damien’s spine. He shifted position to get enough leverage to thrust upward in time with Alec’s downward motion, shuddering when he found the perfect angle.
Their kiss turned sloppy as they panted into each other’s mouths until they were simply breathing each other in more than anything else. Alec tensed first, a growl-filled moan escaping him as recent spurts of cum coated Damien’s fist. Alec’s cum mixed with the butter as Damien chased his own release.
Which came moments later when Alec bit hard at the junction of Damien’s neck and shoulder, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout his body. Fuck, he still didn’t know when he’d developed a bite kink but that did it for him every fucking time. He released Alec’s softened cock and stroked his own faster as the first tingling of orgasm shot out of him. Cum painted Alec’s abdomen, getting all over his shirt.
Damien collapsed limply against the wall with Alec draped on top of him. Alec breathed deeply and snickered. “Well. It smells like spice in here now, at least.” He nipped at Damien’s ear. “Now it just needs vanilla.”
Vanilla and spice. The scent Alec always attributed to Damien.
With a wide, sappy grin, Damien shook his head and kissed Alec’s temple. “We can shower in a few minutes. Just … let me sit here a few.” Pretty sure he had some vanilla body wash left. Still needed to replace the mouthwash, though.
Alec grabbed Damien’s face between his palms and planted a kiss on his nose. “I love you, a rúnsearc.”
Damien never wanted to get used to hearing that. He kissed Alec’s chin and poured everything he felt for this man in his voice when he replied, “I love you too, sweetheart.”
They lay there for several long minutes, the forgotten food growing cold, still sitting around them on the blanket. By some miracle, they’d avoided knocking anything over.
Should probably put it in the fridge before their shower.
But it could wait.