The Broken Werewolves: The Human Mate (LGBT)

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Nigel Quintin Ulysses

"So this is your home now," I tell him once we enter my house. Our house. I don't know why I feel the need to correct myself, but I know I just have to. This is his home now. We will be sharing a lot of stuff here, and I'm sure my parents will never mind it that I'm letting someone stay. Knowing them, they are just going to shrug their shoulders, throw some questions, then it's all fine. "We have a spare bedroom. It's usually for guests, or I can share mine. Whichever you prefer, it's all fine by me." I pause. "Do you want to be in my room, with me?"

Marcus looks at me right in the eye, with no emotions in it and on his face. My hands are getting clammy as each second ticks by. Does he think I'm crazy now? I badly want to see his thoughts now. I don't want him to get a bad impression of me. "Sure." He only states before putting his luggage down. Marcus walks right over to me, towering me and my eyes focus on his chest. I don't want him to look him in the eye, now that we're just centimeters apart. This feels intimate. I know for a fact that I'm not gay nor have I acted gay in a heterosexual way, if that makes sense, but he makes me question myself sometimes. "Do you really want to share your room with me? I can be a pain in the ass most of the time."

My ears perk up at that. I don't know why, it just does. I let out a chuckle just to ease the awkwardness that's beginning to surface. "Well, yeah. I can handle a big 'ol jerk like you. So yep, I'm sure."

"Me, a jerk?" Marcus gives me a smirk, then takes a step closer. He raises his hand up, fingers softly tracing my jaw; his index finger barely touches my lips, but it's enough to make me hitch my breath. His eyes bore into mine, and I'm held by it. I can't look away nor move any muscle at all. "Let's go to our room." Then he turns away, picks up his luggage, and then goes upstairs to where my room is.

"Asshole," I mutter loud enough for him to hear. I hear him laugh as he goes upstairs, and I follow him suit.

God, he was so close to me. My face burns at the image of him going further, his lips merely inches away from mine and I feel like I've stopped breathing at all. Dear Lord, I need these images inside my head to go away. This is not good, especially that he's going to stay here in my house with me. With freaking me. He was so close me, so close that I could smell his manly scent and the perfume he was wearing. Or I could be mistaken. It could only be his natural scent. Either way, he smelled so good. He smells so freaking good.

Clearing my head, I take a deep breath before entering into my room. I find him half naked, his shirt thrown on my bed and my eyes automatically scan his body. f**k. Forget about clearing my head, it doesn't work while he's here. In fact, he fills my head with more inappropriate thoughts. God, why is this so hard for me? I mean, I didn't do anything to deserve this treatment. What's happening with my life?

Marcus is just standing there, looking like he's some sort of a God, in my room as he watches me. I gulp, hoping he doesn't hear how audible it is. My heart is pounding hard against my ribcage, and while he's doing nothing there as he stands, I'm freaking over here. At least internally. I feel like in any minute, I'll have a heart attack.

"Hey," he says, snapping his fingers in front of me. My face burns and, as much as I hate to admit it and doing it, my eyes scan his bare chest and stomach. He has abs. He has a freaking abs. I bet my face looks like a f*****g tomato now. I know that I'm blushing as hell, but I can't help it. Now that he's here, living with me in this house, he will do whatever he usually does in his own home, or Blaine's. And I don't know if I'm prepared for it. I know that this is a first, and there will be more to come. I know it; I can feel it. I can feel that everything is about to change, and I'm to blame for it. Had I thought this through, I would have come with a more suitable decisions. But I'm here already, and I can't undo what I've decided. I just need to deal with this, and whatever I'm feeling now, I hope that it will go away soon. I take a deep sigh, smile and hope that he doesn't think I'm weird. "Are you all right? You just... went out there. Is something bugging you? Is my staying bugging you?"

"No, hell no." I say quickly, shaking my head. What a ridiculous thing he said. Of course he can stay for as long as he wants. Scratch that, I'm going to make him stay whether he likes it or not. "I was just... thinking. Anyways, enjoy your stay." I scratch the back of my neck. This is my house, and I'm the one getting awkward about this situation whereas he looks as calm as a sea in Maldives. Now what? What to do now that I've said to him to enjoy his stay here with me. Should I, like, go back downstairs and make some food for us? Yep, that's the plan. Go downstairs, make some dinner for the both of us, and quit being awkward around him. Sounds like a real plan to me. "I'll make dinner now. Bye. I mean, see you when I see you, which is later. Um, yes. I'm going to go. I'll shut up now." My face burns bright as I scurry away from him in haste, getting out of my room as quick as possible. I can't believe I'm making a fool of myself whenever he's around me, or whenever I'm around him.

When I get downstairs, I contemplate my decision. Do I just cook a dinner for us, or order a pizza? He likes pizza, right? He must so. I mean, who doesn't like pizza? I prefer thin crust, and yes, I want Hawaiian pizza. Then I decide, I'm going to cook for us instead. A lot of people don't like pizza, and if I'm correct, then I'm not going to order anymore. I could just ask him right now, but that would mean going upstairs and see him naked. Again. And I don't want that. I mean, yeah, he has a good body. Not just a good body. He has a good-to-die-for body.

Shrugging, I figure that he'd want meat, considering he has a good build. I mean, most of the people I know who are bulky and muscle-y, they eat a lot of meat. And they work out a lot. Does he work out a lot? How many times does he go into the gym? Once a day? Twice a day? Five times a week? Maybe I could join him. Jesus, that would mean me seeing him all sweaty and Godly. f**k, there's something really wrong with me.

There are meats inside the fridge, ranging from chicken to bacons. Does he like bacons? I'm sure he loves it. I grab a pan that's hooked on the wall near the fridge and place it on the stove, opening the stove and heating the pan up. Then I grab the bacons and lay it down in the sink, opening the faucet just to defreeze it. I turn the stove into a low heat and wait for the bacons to defreeze. Once the bacons are all fine now, I take a couple of strips and put it on pan. I don't mind putting oil in it because I've read an article on the internet that when you're cooking bacons, sometimes you don't have to put an oil in the pan; the oil that you're going to be using is the oil from its fat.

Anyways, enough of the facts. I'm pretty sure he's hungry. After school, we went straight to Blaine's house just to pick up his clothes, and then we headed here. So he must be tired and hungry. I didn't see him at lunch earlier in school, so I doubt that he has had lunch.

There's rice that was just cooked this morning. I just need to heat it up. Does he eat rice? God, I need to stop questioning myself regarding his likes and dislikes. If he wants to eat, then he can eat. If he doesn't like what I have served, then so be it. The last thing I want to happen is for me to get crazy just because I don't know facts about him.

Once I'm done cooking, I heat up the rice and while the rice is heating up, I head upstairs just to call him for dinner.

I enter the room without knocking, and I wish I did knock before I entered. Now, I'm suffering the consequences. I yelp when I see him totally naked, and I get a clear sight of his big junk. It's f*****g massive. He's f*****g gifted. What the hell? I cover my eyes – I don't know if you could call it covering my eyes, but my fingers are spread open on my face.

Marcus looks at me with confusion drawn on his face, as if he doesn't get why I'm acting like a teenage girl right now. And once it dawns on him that his junk is on full display to me, he just looks at his junk and gives me a smile. I want to say: Oh f**k you. f**k you and your massive junk. You don't need to brag about it to me. But I only let out a squeal.

"I used your bathroom, hope you don't mind," he says, not bothering to wrap a towel around his naked torso. I shake my head. It's his house now, so things that can be used here, he can use it. "Thank you. Why'd you come?" Still, he doesn't bother to cover himself. He just stands there all naked and Godly, and here I am, ogling him like a total creep that I am.

"I just... want to tell... you that dinner... is ready?" I say awkwardly and nervously. My heart is beating like a drum. "If you want to eat... me, I mean, oh f**k it. If you want to eat me... I mean, eat with me, just go downstairs." I hear him laugh.

Getting out of the room as quick as the Flash, I run downstairs into the kitchen and place a palm on my chest where my heart is still beating like a f*****g drum. I just want to die here, in this corner of the kitchen, and when he finds me, I hope that he'd bury me ten feet under the ground. God, that was so embarrassing. He should be embarrassed to me! How come he's so laid back and nonchalant about it? I just saw his junk! Oh my f*****g God. What if he thinks I'm gay? What if he thinks that I'm into him? What if he thinks that I want to touch his junk? Mortified at the thought, I groan in frustration as I sit on the stool, burying my face in my hands in shame. If you want to eat me. You f*****g moron.

"Just be calm and everything is going to be okay," I tell myself, taking a deep breath before grabbing two plates and placing them on the table. I prepare everything – the rice, the forks and spoons, and the orange juice and a pitch of water just in case he doesn't like the juice. "Just eat, go to sleep, and when tomorrow comes, everything is going back to normal." I hope that's true.

But something tells me that my life is really about to change now that Marcus Pierson is living here with me. Should I brace myself? Will I be happy with the changes I'm going to face? f**k it.