Author’s Note: There is one more part after this …
Harold stretched lazely in the warm bed, and shifted until he was further in Reese’s embrace. After they had woken up from their nap, and after he made sure John had brushed his teeth … twice, he pounced.
He needed to feel that John was very much alive.
He hadn’t expected to be taken up against the bathroom counter, but despite the crowded area, and awkward location – John had taken care of him, never once hurting his hip.
Oh he was sore in all the right places, and had a few marks that showed John’s possessiveness.
John got them into the shower, washed them down, then carried Harold back to the bed, where he licked, sucked and kissed every inch of his body. Then gave Harold a show as he prepared himself before sliding down his hard cock. He took his time, slowly riding him, pulling out the pleasure until they were both teetering on the edge. Harold took matters into his own hand, and stroked John’s thick cock, until he tensed and came with a low growl, sending Harold into his own completion.
After a few moments, John moved and cleaned them up, before curling around Harold. He hadn’t let go since, and Harold was pretty sure he wouldn’t be for a while.
“Should I order breakfast?” Harold whispered.
“I doubt you’ll bring me a sheep.” John murmed with humor.
“Mr. Reese!” His indingence was thwarted by a yawn. “How about we get dressed go to the diner, and you can order their hungry man plate.”
“I like the way you think, Mr. Finch.” John kissed him quickly, then moved out of the bed. He ignored the pouting from his Mate, pulling him gently from the bed. “You promised a Dragon food, Harold.”
“I see.” He shuffled off the bed with John’s help. “Shower?”
John gave him a saucy grin.
***
Michael Westen stared at the other members of the Dragon Mate club.
‘As a spy you work alone. You learn to handle situations without help, and trust no one. Now. Now he had a writer, assassin, and a hacker as co-conspirators in a Dragon Mystery.’
“I would say I’m the odd one out of this group, but I really don’t think I am.” Michael settled into his seat, sipping his coffee. “I do have, well actually I have a lot of questions, but the main one is – what’s up with the can openers?”
“Don’t touch them!” All three practically yelled at the same time.
Westen’s eyebrow went up, as the stared at the group.
“Did Harvey tell you about Dragon Hoarding?” Harold asked, as he worked through his own sandwich. He had to admit, at least this cafe had better food than the last one they had went to.
“Vaguely, I think the word he used was mine.” Michael sighed, rubbing his forehead, he was still adjusting. He was a spy, he didn’t do well, living with others – let alone relationships. He was living in Harvey’s back bedroom, the lawyer understood that Michael needed time and space.
The phone and computer arrived a few days after he settled into the Penthouse, it was better than anything he had while working for the CIA. He had been ‘transferred’ to IMF, and then put on special assignment in New York.
He really wasn’t that surprised when the Numbers started coming in.
It had given him something to do, which helped him adjust to everything else. The few jobs he worked with Reese, gave him insight into the man and Dragon, and also helped him deal with Harvey.
It took time, but he knew he belonged with the Dragon, and the idea of a same-sex relationship didn’t bother him, nor ironically did the inter-species one … it was the idea of a relationship at all that had him freaking out the most of the time.
He was thankful Harvey was patient, ’cause he knew he was going to fuck this up at some point. Hence he attended all the Dragon Mate Club meetings as they helped him deal with not just the Dragon but the whole Mate thing.
“Dragons hoard one thing. Do not touch it, move it, do anything with it, without their permission. They will get unbelievable pissed. It’s not healthy, it’s technically a disorder, but they are Dragons and this is what they do.” Harold warned him, he didn’t want to see anyone go through what he had gone through with Reese.
Westen opened his mouth …
“Pens.” Castle smirked, stealing a pen from the waitresses booklet.
“Feathers.” Aveline shrugged, like it made complete sense.
“Weapons.”
Now the last one wasn’t nearly as shocking.
“So he hoards can openers?” Michael blinked a few times. “Well okay. So no touching the can openers, he has boxes of them…”
“Learn to live with them.” Aveline, gave him a pointed look. “And be prepared to accidently fuck that up, it’s okay we all have done it. Just call us we’ll help.”
“I’m not good at this stuff.” Westen leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m a good spy. I’m good at being someone else. I’m terrible at maintaining normal healthy relationships.”
“You think we are?” Castle snorted, shaking his head. “I get lost in my writing, forgetting everything around me. I missed so many of my kids plays, dates with Beckett, and hell once my own birthday party I planned. I’m amazed my daughter turned out to be a well rounded level headed intelligent woman. Beckett has shown me a new world, but I still get lost in the ones I create.”
“I’m an Assassin.” Aveline gave him a look. “Yes, we both work well together, but there are times I totally forget he’s bigger, stronger, and meaner than I am. And I’m not just talking about the Dragon. I’ve put myself in harms way doing the job, more times than he wants to even contemplate. But it’s what I do.”
Harold gave Westen a look. “I let the woman I loved think I was dead, because of my secrets. So you’re not the only one who is trying to figure this out.”
“Does she know about Reese?”
“No, she still thinks I’m dead, and it will stay that way.” Harold’s tone indicated there would be no further conversation. “So I guarantee Mr. Westen you’ll accidently use one of his can openers to open a can of soup one day, and he’ll flip out. My suggestions ….”
“Naked covered in can openers.” Castle wiggled his eyebrows. “Also start looking up the history and finding old unique ones.”
Michael laughed lightly. “And when he works late?”
“Take him a can opener.” Aveline leaned over and squeezed his hand. “You got us, you’ll figure it out.”
He leaned back in his seat, a true smile on his face.
‘Spies don’t make friend, instead they ended up Mated to Dragons and joined a club’
Can openers? Harvey hoards can openers?! Poor Michael….. Can openers…. **keeps mumb!ing.**
Great chapter!
—Naj 🙂 /)
The hordes need to be in a nice, safe warehouse….