A few weeks passed. Irwin paid his rent again and then spent the remainder of that day doing some budgeting, writing out figures and dividing them up in all sorts of ways to see which was best. He hadn’t been the best student in school because there were just so many concepts that he couldn’t wrap his head around. Imaginary numbers, what? Calculus who? But he could play around with money figures like nobody’s business.

So he knew he was sunk. Even if he sold his Taurus, that would only buy him an extra few days’ worth of groceries since the car was a piece of shit. There was just no way around it. Even if he didn’t eat, he wouldn’t have enough for his next rent check. Even if he went homeless, he wouldn’t be able to feed himself for very long.

As selfish as it sounded, he also now couldn’t count on Dagwood to buy him a meal or two. Ever since that day at the park, a rift had grown between them. Irwin spent a lot of time thinking about it, and he thought he could understand that Dagwood had had his expectations shattered and was reeling from it, but that didn’t make this whole thing any easier. He missed the other man’s company, his easy laugh, his gentle eyes, and his measured way of existing. Things seemed simpler with him around, as if his very presence was so calm that the world stood still for him.

The only form of communication between them was the occasional phone call, as Dagwood checked up on him. As more time went on, these calls dwindled away and were replaced by texts. It seemed as if the investigation was going very well, as the police searched for Kevin and kept not finding him; this might have seemed like the opposite of good news but a definitive no was at least some sort of answer.

As the police worked the surface of things, Dagwood searched the underground for signs of the killer. He, too, was finding nothing, and he sent this information in to the police by way of anonymous tips.

Judging by the occasional visit from the police, Irwin suspected that they knew exactly who these tips were coming from. Since the cops knew that he and Dagwood knew each other, they kept coming to him to try and find out Dagwood’s next move so they could tell him to butt out. The first time Irwin told the cops that they were no longer on speaking terms, he thought he might cry. It got easier after that, but it was clear that the police didn’t believe him.

Irwin didn’t really care. There was nothing they could do to him, since he was living on borrowed time anyway.

Some days, he thought he might go crazy from the lack of interaction. Other times, he was very accepting of this fact. Crazy people didn’t feel sad, so at least that would solve one of this problems.

Then, there was an accident. A train derailed, tumbling off the tracks and into the road which ran alongside it, hitting two cars and a semi-truck filled with medical supplies. The disaster required assistance from all across the city, and a new investigation was launched to discover what set of perfect circumstances had led up to the derailment. Irwin lost his watchdog, and he didn’t seem inclined to return. The city was moving on to the next big issue, as more and more evidence arose to suggest that Kevin was no longer in the area.

Dagwood expressed a similar belief in his texts, which had grown even shorter and less frequent than ever before. Here and there were rumors that Kevin had left town, that he had connections in another town and would be staying with them. As these rumors remained steady and didn’t change, Dagwood believed them.

Apparently, so did the police. Irwin received a phone call. It was Officer Janis, who told him in a chipper tone that he no longer had to worry about his safety and could go on with his life as normal.

Hooray, Irwin thought, bitterly.

He thanked Janis, however. None of the turmoil in his personal life was her fault, so he couldn’t take his feelings out on her.

Just as he was dropping his phone down on the coffee table, where it was perpetually charging, someone knocked on his door.

Probably some delivery guy with the wrong room, he thought. This was a common occurrence, despite the fact that each room was plainly numbered.

“Coming,” he said. His voice echoed in his empty apartment, hollow and devoid of feeling.

Just as he was opening the door, a very familiar scent reached him. His heart skipped a beat and then skittered to catch up, while the door continued to open and he found himself looking right into Dagwood’s eyes.

Truth be told, Dagwood had looked better. He seemed diminished, hollowed out, and there were dark sleepless smudges beneath his eyes. “Can I come in?”

Irwin backed away, leaving the door open. Still, Dagwood didn’t move and Irwin raised his voice. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, come in.”

Murmuring soft thanks, Dagwood stepped inside and then looked around. “Same as ever, I see.”

Irwin shut the door and lingered by it, not knowing at all what he wanted to do or say. All possibilities seemed wrong. The best he could manage was, “Sure.”

Dagwood sighed and then went over to the futon, dropping down into it. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Not sure what he has to be sorry about when I’m the stupid punk who’s fucked up his life.

Dagwood repeated, “I’m sorry,” and dropped his forehead into his hand. “I kind of treated you the way I expected you to be, even after I learned that you weren’t the boy I’d been imagining all this time. I hoped…but I projected that hope onto you and made you out to be something that you weren’t. And for that, I’m sorry.”

Irwin took a few tentative steps forward. He wasn’t quite sure if this could be considered a good thing, when it sounded a lot to him like Dagwood had given up hope on him. “I’m the one who’s all screwed up,” he whispered. “So you don’t have any reason to be sorry, you know?”

“I judged you.”

“I’m pretty sure you had a right to judge me, Dogwood.”

The teasing nickname went unnoticed, and Irwin’s shoulders slumped. Yeah, this wasn’t turning out to look so great. This seemed a whole hell of a lot like a goodbye. Despite the distance between them lately, he wasn’t sure if he wanted this to be the end. No, scratch that. He didn’t want this to be the end at all.

I wish things would go back to the way they were, even if it means being in danger again.

“I’m leaving.”

Irwin jumped at the sudden words, and then his heart twisted brutally in his chest. “Leaving?” he said. “You’re…Please, don’t?” His voice cracked in half and this time he wasn’t ashamed of it at all.

Dagwood looked up, though he resumed rubbing his face with his hand. “It’s not because of you. I would never…” He stopped, then started again after taking a deep breath. “I would never leave if I didn’t have to, if it wasn’t for my job. Even though I really don’t approve of what you do, I wouldn’t leave if I didn’t have to.”

Of what I used to do. But I’m not that person anymore.

Stumbling the last few feet towards the futon, Irwin dropped down onto it. He would have given anything to be in Dagwood’s lap, to be held, but he really didn’t think he had a right to that position at the moment. “It’s because of Kevin Leery, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Dagwood nodded. “I just got another rumor. An informant. They said he was definitely seen up in New York, so that’s where I’ve got to go. I’m pretty sure he’s making his way to Canada, like he thinks that’s going to protect him.”

“Little does he know you’ve got a passport, right?”

“Right. So, Irwin, I’m leaving. I should have left already, except I thought that you deserved…a proper goodbye, I guess.”

A proper goodbye, or even one sent by text; it was all the same. Goodbye was goodbye. Irwin’s stomach churned with a combination of fear and regret, though he didn’t exactly know what he was afraid of. Being alone, probably.

“If you leave, would you ever come back?”

“Maybe.”

Not yes, and not no. Just maybe. An answer that was no answer at all, which left a whole lot of room for hurt.

Suddenly, Irwin couldn’t hold back on his feelings. Reaching out, he grabbed onto Dagwood’s arm, feeling the firm, reassuring muscles there. “Please come back?”

Dagwood turned to look at him, his eyes shining slightly. “Why?”

“Why?”

“Why would you want me to come back? And be truthful, because I can tell when you aren’t.”

He didn’t hesitate at all when he said, “Because I would miss you so badly I’d probably die.”

“I doubt that.”

“But it’s true! I…I like you! Even if you think we’re too different, I don’t think so. Not at all. I like you. I want to…I want to see more of you. I want to never not see you!” All of this emerged from him in a rush. He paused and then looked very deeply into Dagwood’s sweet brown eyes, begging him to understand.

Dagwood just looked right back at him. His face was passive, betraying nothing. “Do you promise not to do any of those things again?”

Opening his mouth to say yes, of course he would promise, he suddenly stopped. Because no, he couldn’t promise that. He probably wouldn’t do anymore vandalism because that just wasn’t fun unless you were with a group, but stealing? If the times ahead of him grew particularly hard, if he was in need, if there was food around that he could easily take, then he would take it. That was just part of who he was. Maybe in the future, if the future was better, he could stop. But that was just impossible right now.

And Dagwood deserved the truth. So Irwin looked at him and said, “No. I can’t promise. I’m sorry. I won’t do it for fun, but if there’s no other choice…”

Before he even knew what was happening, he found himself pulled into Dagwood’s lap. It was the place he had wanted to be all along and the sudden arrival there, at the exact moment when he needed it, made tears spring to his eyes. He turned, pushing his face against Dagwood’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I’m messed up,” he choked out.

A gentle touch on the back of his head silenced his apologies, of which there were many more all waiting to emerge. Dagwood hugged him tightly, caressing his hair. “Shut up,” he whispered tenderly. “I love you anyway.”

There was that forbidden word, the one which held so much meaning within four little letters. Tears slipped from between Irwin’s eyelids, surprising him; whether or not they were happy tears, he just couldn’t tell. He wanted so badly to return the sentiment but he couldn’t seem to manage it, to get there. The words lodged in his throat, choking him, but somehow being on the verge of his confession didn’t seem so bad.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Dagwood murmured, still stroking him. His hand wandered down Irwin’s back, massaging the residual tension from his muscles. “I can feel it.”

Having not ever been in love before, Irwin didn’t know if what he felt was the real deal or the result of some sort of imprinting, making him latch onto the first person to show feelings for him. In that moment, it really didn’t matter. They were nearly the same, close enough.

“Will you come back?” Irwin said, whispering into his ear. He wrapped his arms around Dagwood’s neck. “When this job is done?”

“I sure will,” Dagwood replied. He chuckled, and the sound was hardly louder than a breath. “It’s a pretty river, after all. I’d like to rent a boat next time.”

Irwin leaned back and growled at him.

Dagwood responded by kissing him.

The tingles which surged to existence inside Irwin were no less intense than the last time they had their bodies pressed so close together, but they also seemed different in a way he just couldn’t describe. Intense, yet gentle. Burning, and yet so sweetly warm all at once. This was different than simple lust and desire, it was want and acceptance and a great deal of other things for which he had no name.

However, he thought the difference might be the same as that boundary between having sex and making love.

Dagwood seemed to feel the same gentleness deep in his soul. His kisses were fierce and demanding, yet his lips asked instead of taking. He hung back slightly, letting Irwin take the lead.

Irwin pressed his lips more firmly against Dagwood’s and leaned deep into the kiss. Dagwood’s lips parted and their tongues met, rubbing together with silky wet heat. Dagwood’s mouth tasted of strong, bitter coffee, with an undertone of something sweet, as if he’d had a doughnut with his morning brew. Irwin smiled and the curving of his lips against Dagwood’s made the alpha shudder. They let their tongues play between them, teasing and tempting, leading the other in. It had become a game, to see who would give in first. Judging by the hard bulge pressing against Irwin’s ass from beneath, he had a pretty solid guess.

There was something different about being desirable, something powerful about being able to elicit a response in another person. Irwin gave himself over to that power and let his fingers slide up the back of Dagwood’s neck and into the thick, dark tangle of his hair. He curled his fingers in it, grabbing two handfuls, pulling gently.

Dagwood growled, and then moaned. His body shuddered and his muscles went tense, as if he was fighting against himself.

Delighted and encouraged by this, Irwin let one of his hands wander down Dagwood’s spine, and back up again underneath his shirt. He traced the lines of each scar he found, touching them as gently as if they were flower petals, as if he was trying to coax sweet perfume from their dewy surfaces.

As Dagwood moaned into his mouth again, his tongue pressing for an advance, Irwin backed off and trailed the kiss down from his lips to his chin. Dagwood grabbed at him, trying to pull him back up, but Irwin only continued wandering his way downwards. He kissed and licked at the hollow of Dagwood’s throat, making the other man tremble and buck slightly beneath him.

“You fucking fox,” Dagwood growled. He tilted his head back, giving Irwin more of his throat.

Irwin paused.

Fox.

That was what the gang used to call him. He used to like being called that, considered it better than his real name—what pair of idiots named their kid Irwin?—but now it seemed fake. He wasn’t Fox. He might have tried to be that wily animal at one point, to be tricky and smart, always with the upper hand in every situation, but he knew now that was only a daydream. He was Irwin. Unemployed weirdo, and somehow the guy who had captured Dagwood’s heart.

As he continued to trail his tongue down from Dagwood’s throat to his collarbone, Irwin thought that he might like this identity better.

When he could reach no further with his mouth, blocked by clothing, Irwin grabbed for the hem of the shirt to pull it off, out of his way. Two broad, warm hands closed over his, stopping him.

“That’s enough,” Dagwood whispered. “I want you.”

Irwin wiggled his hands free and reached up to cinch them together behind Dagwood’s neck, holding on tightly. “Take me then.” He punctuated his words with a soft nip at Dagwood’s earlobe.

The other man turned and growled deeply at him, then stood. Irwin held on with his arms and legs as Dagwood took him back to the bedroom. He let his head loll trustingly against one of those broad shoulders, letting the gentle warmth envelope him.

Soon enough, they were in his bedroom, helping each other to undress. They went slow, savoring the reveal. Irwin let his eyes roam as they pleased, taking in the sight of lean, hard muscle, and thick patches of dark—almost black—hair that covered Dagwood’s chest and groin. In the light filtering through the bedroom window, the scars slashing across that perfect body seemed almost silver, as if his imperfections had been given value.

Irwin liked that idea. Flaws made people who they were. All these marks, all these memories of past hardships, were all part of the journey that had eventually brought them together.

Maybe if he never burned the back of his hand on that oven, we would never have found each other.

Despite the situation, he giggled.

Dagwood grabbed him gently and tossed him in the bed so that he rolled lightly against the wall. The mattress bounced as Dagwood leaped up behind him, growling low in the back of his throat. “You think this is funny, huh?” he said.

Irwin turned over and propped his head up on his hand to watch Dagwood find the lube, rubbing it all over his swollen cock until it was glistening. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I do.”

Dagwood smiled at him, then grabbed his waist and positioned himself behind him. Irwin obediently raised up his ass, feeling excitement course through his entire body. He’d had plenty of time to stop feeling sore after their last bout, and he could hardly even remember the pain. He could feel a low, throbbing tingle deep inside his body, pulsating in a place only Dagwood could reach for him.

He was ready.

He could feel the heat emanating from Dagwood’s swollen, needy tip as the alpha pressed in close to him. The searing burn when they touched was almost more than he could bear and he whimpered, pushing back against Dagwood’s rock-hard head. Dagwood grinded against him as he pushed back, and their combined movements sent Dagwood’s tip sliding sweetly, effortlessly inside him.

There was discomfort from the sweet invasion, but not nearly as much as Irwin remembered from the last time. As Dagwood continued to push inside him, he could feel his inner walls stretching, adjusting. The sensation of being filled was so delicious and he wriggled slightly, then bucked back against Dagwood’s cock.

Dagwood’s hands on his hips kept him steady, so that when his body started shaking from the pleasure he wouldn’t end up falling off the bed. He kept pushing back, and Dagwood kept pressing in, and he felt beyond alive. He felt as if he was ascending to some other level of existence, one where everything was right and nothing would ever be wrong.

Then, suddenly, he felt solid pressure against his ass and knew that they were fully joined. He could feel their bodies locking together as two wild animals would be, joined until they were finished.

“Can’t go any deeper,” Dagwood gasped. His words were garbled, hardly like real speech at all.

Irwin whimpered in response, and then thrust back against him. Dagwood responded and thrust forward at the same time. Irwin felt that hot, sweet place inside him be struck, and what felt like lightning raced through his veins. He squealed out, unable to help it. His own cock felt heavy and hot, strained from the pressure within. As he started to thrust back against Dagwood, he propped all his weight on one arm. His other hand, he pushed between his thighs to hold onto his dick, pulling at it, working it, making his pleasure double.

Dagwood breathed hot and heavy on the back of his neck, growling to him. “Yeah,” he said. His hot breath stirred the hairs on Irwin’s nape. “Yeah, baby. Fuck yourself. Let me fuck you.”

The last time they had sex, Dagwood hadn’t spoken in such a manner. In fact, their first time together had been a mostly silent affair except for grunting and gasping. Being encouraged in such a manner, in such a husky voice, made Irwin burn even hotter.

He lost himself in pleasure, pushing his forehead against the mattress. He thrust harder and harder back against Dagwood. Dagwood thrust right back at him, matching his pace. Their bodies rocked together as one.

Then their minds were one.

Irwin didn’t know when it happened, or if it had been happening the entire time and he was simply unaware of it. All at once, he could feel Dagwood’s pleasure as acutely as his own. He could feel the trembling in Dagwood’s muscles as if those muscles were his, and he could feel his own hips thrusting, his own heart pounding. His body started to mimic what he felt from Dagwood, and he shoved his cock past his hand, bucking against the mattress, searching for orgasm.

A spasm rocked through his body, followed by another that was even more intense than the last. He squealed, and his back arched. A slow pulse of heat more intense than anything he’d ever felt before started to work its way down from his groin, then it suddenly burst from him, and he was cumming harder than he had known was possible.

As his body shook and jumped, he felt his ass muscles grabbing at Dagwood, pulling on his cock, squeezing him. The alpha let out a strangled cry, and Irwin felt a rush of heat from behind, and knew that Dagwood was in the grips of his own orgasm.

How long their thoughts mingled was uncertain. Irwin had no idea how long his orgasm lasted or even at what point Dagwood startled to cuddle him. Awareness was slow to return because he was satisfied, more satisfied than he had ever imagined was possible.

But, awareness did eventually return, and he stirred out of his stupor with a sigh. Every muscle in his body was once again sore, but there were no aches this time, nothing he would have strongly identified as pain.

Dagwood stirred behind him as well, wrapping one arm around Irwin to pull him in deeper against his body. They were spooning, Irwin realized. His butt was tucked against Dagwood’s lap, which was soft and tamed…for now.

“Thank you,” Dagwood said against his neck.

Irwin tilted his head slightly to look up into his face. “Aren’t you supposed to pay me now?”

“Ahem.” Dagwood pressed his face into his hair and growled at him softly, teasingly. “Behave, young man.”

As they cuddled together on the rumpled bed, Irwin puzzled over something that had been bothering him ever since it occurred in the middle of sex. He hadn’t exactly had the brainpower to think on it at the time, but now it nagged at him.

There was so much attention to his neck when he was with Dagwood. Breath on his neck, kisses, growls. It seemed like such an odd part of his body to attract attention.

Realization washed over him as Dagwood pressed another light, lingering kiss to the back of his neck. His neck was important because of one fact only, and that was his identity as an omega. That was where he would be marked, if he was claimed. As he had this realization, his heart suddenly seemed to beat slower. Time seemed to stop as the ultimate question bore down on him, of what he would do if Dagwood tried to mark him as his mate.

“Irwin? Are you okay?”

Pressed as close together as they were, there was no hiding his sudden stillness, and there was no pretending that he hadn’t gone still. “Are you going to mark me?” he asked. His voice trembled.

Now Dagwood went still as well, contemplating this as if he hadn’t even realized what he was doing. Irwin could feel the gears in his head turning as he tried to figure out what he should say.

Then, he said, “No.”

Irwin had no idea whether or not he was disappointed. Turmoil churned in his stomach, full of too many emotions. Relief and regret were easily identifiable but all the others were too tightly knotted together to even begin separating them.

“No,” Dagwood repeated. “Not right now.”

Letting out a breath that Irwin hadn’t even known he was holding, he said, “Not now?”

“I have to leave. I should already be gone. I need to follow Kevin’s trail before it goes cold, and I’m not sure how long it’ll take me.” Dagwood stroked Irwin’s side, letting his touch wander down to his thigh and then all the way back up to his shoulder. “It wouldn’t be fair to mark you and then just…leave.”

He hadn’t thought about that. Of course, he would know why Dagwood wasn’t there but on the inside, he would fret and worry and lament. The wolf inside him wouldn’t understand, pining away after him, filling his daily life with sadness. No, that wasn’t a good idea.

“Would you even want me to?”

“Yes.”

He hadn’t known what he would say until he opened his mouth and the word came spilling out. As soon as it had, the world seemed to realign itself, turning on its axis so that everything fell right into place. Once that happened, he knew he should have reached this decision earlier. He hadn’t ever felt this way about anyone before. Dagwood had been his first for everything. Wasn’t it right that he be the only, the last?

And he saw me in the well. I believe him. I think I finally know what that means.

Dagwood chuckled softly, but it might have also been a sob. “You say that now. But wait until I’m gone and you realize how much better your life is without me in it. I turned everything upside down for you.”

Irwin rolled over in Dagwood’s arms and hugged him as tightly as he could. “Maybe I was already upside down.”

“You and me both,” Dagwood replied. Their lips brushed together softly, and then they nuzzled their noses together. “We’ll just be upside down together.”

He was about to reply, to say he thought that was a good idea, but a yawn nearly broke his jaw. His eyes were growing heavier and heavier with each passing second as the last bits of adrenaline from sex faded away, leaving him drained.

Dagwood held onto him and pulled him closer. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep, okay? You’ve got my number. Call me or text me whenever you want to. Just, if I don’t answer, my life is probably in danger. So, you know, less distractions would be nice.”

Irwin giggled softly. “I won’t spam you, I promise.”

Then, his eyes closed and he fell fast asleep, cradled in those strong arms. His dreams were deep and meaningless, composed mostly of happiness and the sound of a heartbeat.

When he woke up several hours later, his bed was empty.