Page 33 of Guiding Desire
“Hey,” the Guardian said.
“Uhm, hello.”
Orrey sat up, lifting his head out of the crook of Senlas’s arm. The Guardian looked tired, not like he hadn’t slept, but like he’d slept badly. Yet there was something about that ragged look, that shadow of stubble, the slightly messy black hair, that struck a chord with Orrey, and he had a moment in which he wondered whether he should just…allow himself to let that moment extend.
Drugs. They gave me something that’s clearly not yet fully out of my system.
“You look better. Don’t worry when you look in a mirror.”
Orrey’s heart jumped. “Who says that to a person?” He touched his face, starting with his cheeks where he felt a rough texture, close to bark. His lips were fine, but something yucky was growing on his brow. “What—”
“No scratching that,” Senlas said, gently pulling Orrey’s arms by their wrists. “Your forehead and cheeks got burned from the blast, and they gave you stem cell treatment for that as well. The skin’ll slough off once the new one grows in, same with that cut above your eye.”
“Are you saying stuff’ll fall off my face!? Oh.” Orrey felt his cheeks heat. “Oh, fuck. I wasn’t wearing any underwear.” He looked down at himself but couldn’t immediately tell whether he was wearing hospital clothes or something else, but then his drug-addled brain recognized the pattern of animated characters on the pants, and he put it together.“Oh shit.”
“Those’re Col’s sweats. I didn’t double-check with him, but I’ll assume he fixed your underwear situation,” Senlas said, and the Covenant-blessed Guardian neither smirked nor flinched.
Orrey pulled on the waistband for visual confirmation. His blush deepened. “Why did he make me wear this weird, see-through underwear, Senlas?”
A deeper color rose to Senlas’s rose-beige cheeks as he tried to keep his laughter bottled up, failed, burst out until tears were stinging his eyes.
“I’m sorry about that, kitten. I think he’s trying to be helpful. Or…I don’t know.” He reached for Orrey’s hand. “Dissatisfying undergarment situation aside, how are you feeling? Any ringing in your ears? Blurry vision? Do your eyes sting?”
Orrey shook his head. “No, but now I want to hear what happened. And where’s my mom? Shit, I need to call her. She’ll have everyone worried by now.”
Senlas squeezed Orrey’s hand. “I talked with her yesterday and explained, and Col has been giving her updates. She made me promise to have you call her as soon as you were coherent.”
“Coherent…did you have a streaming party on this couch last night, or was I imagining all that?”
“Nope. We had StreamBrain pick a show none of us had seen, something that doesn’t require much attention to follow it without being entirely too stupid. We ended up withMy Secret Guardian.We finished season one. I think you almost woke up for the first episode of the two-episode finale.”
Orrey’s jaw dropped. “You let a movie connoisseur AI decide what you were going to watch. And you all ended up with—six out of my eight roomies at the protector housing are super into that stupid show.”
“Well, Vin’s very invested now too.”
Orrey stared, at a loss. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.
Then, “What happened with the bomb? How many are dead?”
“Bombs. Two now. You ran toward a bomb, and I was too late in understanding the situation, almost too late inGrabbingyou.” He reached for Orrey’s other hand. “I know you’ve known me for—fuck. I don’t even know how long now, can’t even keep track. Whether you reciprocate or not, I care about you. It matters to me that you are well. I need your word that you’ll not run at danger like that ever again.”
Orrey frowned, looked down at their hands. It wasn’t uncomfortable, having Senlas hold him. Orrey wasn’t sure how he felt about the Guardian, but whatever was or could be, he didn’t want to lie to him.
“I’m a protector. I cannot promise you that.”
Senlas sighed. “Fuck.” He followed that up with a deeper sigh, something that had character, as far as sighs went. “One way or the other, you’re part of this team now. I’ll pair you with Vin.”
Orrey looked up, meeting Senlas’s blue eyes. Their color reminded him of a painting his mother had done once, a water dragon in the ocean, bubbles and kelp around it. It was in the Municipal Gallery now, but Orrey had kept a print on the wall of his childhood room until he’d moved into protector housing.
“You wouldn’t have been out of line telling me I’m no longer a protector,” Orrey said.
Senlas shrugged. “Didn’t feel like the right thing to say.”
Orrey nodded. “I don’t… I still don’t understand. How and why, what I’m supposed to do. But I was wondering if it would be all right for me to kiss you? Just a kiss. If you’re not opposed.”
“Fucking—I’m not opposed, kitten.”
Senlas drew Orrey in. It wasn’t a fast and needy move, but careful, gentle. Orrey’s palm fell against Senlas’s chest, and Senlas took the time to brush along Orrey’s hairline. Orrey considered whether he should dig his fingers into Senlas’s hair like actors in dramas always did, but before he could make up his mind either way, Senlas pulled him in closer, and their lips connected.
