Slim Chance

Chapter 1 By the time Dane pulled into Sean’s driveway, the drink he’d had to clear the dust from his throat had worn off and he was practically gagging again. He cursed, coughed, and crossed to the front door. The walkway was immaculate as always, shoveled snow piled up alongside it. Sean was the responsible one, and yet it had been Dane ass-deep in decades of grit today, despite the fact he knew the professor was still on Spring Break. Dane was filthy, thirsty, and not impressed when he unlocked the door to a dim room. The lights in the kitchen and over the dining table were on, though, so he shrugged off his coat and coughed again. Sean ignored him. “Good f*****g evening,” said Dane, stalking past the couch and vivarium into the kitchen, where Sean was pulling what looked like lasagna out of the oven. His back was toward Dane, his ass too, which Dane eyed as he waited to be acknowledged. Sean’s ass was perfectly distracting. “Decided to show up to fulfill your basic needs again?” asked Sean, noticing the trajectory of Dane’s gaze. He tossed oven mitts on the counter. “Food, booze, ass?” He did not look happy. They had been arguing more than usual recently and Dane very much wanted to avoid that now, so despite his current mood he tried a different tack, leaning back on his feet, relaxing his posture, smoothing out his scowl. He could make an attempt for Sean. “Hey, I’m here for more than that. Like your company.” Sean’s expression remained flat. He didn’t even tell Dane to f**k off, which wasn’t a good sign. “I’ll get the wine.” Dane hesitated, then moved past Sean to find an appropriate red. “Long day?” “I’m behind on Guild studies and Adonia wants to test me before classes resume again. I still have half my assignments to grade. Funny, Dane, I told you all this already. Twice.” Dane gritted his teeth and swallowed back the first remark that came to mind, then the second and third, too. The wine wasn’t going to be strong enough, he realized, but he didn’t know what Sean wanted from him. Dane had let the professor have his ass the last several times they f****d, and he tried to stay out of Sean’s way a few hours a day to let him get to his s**t. “We haven’t even been together a year and you’ve already stopped listening to what I say,” said Sean, pulling the wine from Dane’s hand and moving to get the corkscrew. “Oh, come on, professor, you know I never started.” Dane heard the, “f**k you,” Sean muttered under his breath, his mood improving slightly. He pulled out plates and served hunks of lasagna, and hauled them over to the table. He was about to put them down on top of the paperwork scattered about before recoiling. Sean’s snake and familiar, Chip, stretched along several piles of papers and a chunk of wood, beady eyes staring straight at Dane. “f*****g snake,” said Dane, surprise fast turning to the urge to crush the reptile with a plate. “No,” said Sean, the word weary. Dane scowled as he realized Sean was talking to the snake, not him, a habit he hated. He just knew Chip was saying all sorts of s**t about him, and the fact Sean could hear them while Dane couldn’t pissed him off even more. He slammed the plates down on top of papers full of whatever witch s**t Sean had been studying and yanked out a chair as far from Chip as possible. “They want me to kick you out,” said Sean, bringing over the glasses of wine. He shuffled plates and papers around, clearing table space, and tossed his reading glasses on top of the pile. “Hell, Dane, I want me to kick you out.” “Go ahead,” said Dane, digging into the slab of lasagna. Sean sat, picked up his fork, then went for the wine instead and had a large drink. They ate in silence, Dane annoyed at the lack of meat in the lasagna. All he’d eaten all day had been a four-day-old muffin from his coffee business, more because he didn’t want to sell it than anything, and he was hungry. “How can you look so pissed at a free meal?” asked Sean, but he knew. “I loaded it with mushrooms.” “Yeah, thanks, those are my f*****g favorites.” Dane finished his wine and took his empty plate up for seconds. “Yes, go on and help yourself to more disappointing dinner.” Sean paused to pour more wine, scowling. “You know, Dane, if you want burgers or steak you can cook.” Dane sat, grunted, and had another forkful of lasagna. Sean’s cooking was better than his, anyway, except where sweets were concerned. He only wanted a balanced meal, and why that was so hard for the professor he didn’t know. He decided to change the subject. “Witch s**t getting too hard for your old ass?” he asked. Sean bristled. Since he’d turned forty a few months ago, he’d been touchy about it and Dane liked to tease. Right now he was doing more than that, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. After such a shitty day, it didn’t seem too much to want to spend time with his boyfriend and have a tension-relieving f**k. And if Sean was going to be pissy about his presence, well, Dane was going to return the sentiment. They’d feel better after they went up to bed, anyway. Dane was in the mood for some aggressive s*x. “I’m not too old to learn, asshole.” Sean grabbed the wine bottle and topped his glass off. “But I do have to cram several weeks into one, and it’s not like school is out. I keep getting emails from students who want to know why they don’t have their scores uploaded yet.” Dane didn’t really care, but he knew enough not to say so. “You know if you came out with me more, you could get some witch skill practice.” Dane topped off his wine glass too, ignoring the look Sean shot him. Dane was a Decrypter, a member of the Order of Decrypters who hunted down problematic creatures and dealt with minor magical and supernatural incidents. A witch in training, as far as Dane was concerned, could learn a lot shadowing him. Sean had already learned a lot. “The kinds of things you hunt don’t apply to my Guild’s specialty.” “Probably be some human-eating plants come summer.” “And is it summer now?” asked Sean. He set his fork down on his empty plate and grabbed his wine glass. “No. And I doubt my Guild would permit me to hunt down a plant that’s probably both sentient and obnoxiously valuable.” “Eh, the world’s a better place without ‘em.” On the table, Chip hissed. Sean’s gaze was drawn to the snake but he said nothing. After a moment he reached forward, grabbed the wine bottle, and emptied the last of it into his glass, not bothering to share with Dane. Which was fine. Dane got up and poured himself a helping of whiskey into his empty wineglass, ignoring the way Sean rolled his eyes at him. “You’re the height of refinement.” “Screw you,” said Dane, and sat back down. Some food and booze in him, he did feel a bit better. But turning the conversation to s*x might be a challenge. As he considered his options, Sean spoke. “Not tonight. I have too much to do.” “Seriously? You act like you could use a good f*****g. Loosen you up a bit. Surprising how tense you get after we skip a few days.” “Yes, because I can’t see through that.” Sean frowned and grabbed his wineglass. “You’re not here for me, Dane. You decided two days was enough and you can’t stand to see to yourself while I’m around. You went through all the trouble of getting a boyfriend, why would you let him go to waste?” “Not sure why you think I haven’t been seeing to myself,” said Dane, but it got no reaction. “Look, I don’t know why you got a problem with me wanting to see you after a long, hard day—” “Of what?” asked Sean. “Chopping up werebunnies? At least you only dragged mud and salt in today.” Dane took a drink. He hated arguing when he could be getting laid, but he didn’t know how to stop this, and he wanted Sean to give in, anyway. He was the one with the attitude. Dane had been trying. “Come on,” said Dane. Sure, he’d gotten a few drops of blood on Sean’s nice hardwood floors a few nights ago, but that cleaned off easy enough. “I finally get to make a kill and you’re gonna get pissy with me about it?” “I wouldn’t be if you hadn’t left it for me to clean.” “That’s your problem? You know how dusty my ass got today, scrubbing down the sub-Lair you’re never around to work on?” “It’s. Your. Sub-Lair,” said Sean, and drained the last of the wine. “Yeah, well, it’s your house, professor. You’re always so fond of telling me.” Sean set the wineglass down hard. It clinked on the wood of the table, the sound cold. “Get out,” he said. Dane eyed him, had another sip of whiskey. Sean usually relented, given enough time. Chip hissed. “Get out of my house, Dane.” Sean’s eyes flashed and his hand went to his pocket, although Dane knew the only thing he kept there was some sort of milky crystal he’d taken from a dead witch. Almost immediately on touching the lump in his pocket, Sean pulled his hand back and gritted his teeth. “Now.” “s**t, fine, no sex.” Dane wasn’t used to having to placate Sean this much. He almost wanted to go back to his shitty apartment, but the urge to not be the one who was wrong was too strong. “What do you want, me to load the dishwasher?” “I want you to leave me the hell alone. Go.” Dane set his glass down. “You breaking up with me?” he asked, the words out before he thought about them. “No,” said Sean, weariness creeping into his voice. “I don’t have time to deal with you tonight.” “Then I’ll stay out of your way. I got Order s**t to write up—” “Dane. Don’t make me force you,” said Sean, hand darting to his pocket again. Dane paused, grabbed his wineglass of whiskey, and drank. A few months ago, he would have laughed at a threat like that from Sean, would have thought the idea an untrained professor could make him do anything entertaining as hell. But he’d seen Sean suck up magical energy like it was nothing, enough energy to kill an adult. He wasn’t sure what Sean could do with that crystal of his, and he didn’t really want to know right now. He set the glass down and stood. “‘Night, then,” said Dane, and hesitated. He almost told Sean he loved him, but the professor griped about Dane’s timing the few times he had, and Dane didn’t want to make the situation worse. He went to the door, shrugged on his coat, and left.