The Taste of Home

Chapter 32

Miguel returned to The Crimson Goat a few days later. Even after having time to relax and adjust to his leg's constant aching, simply walking into the kitchen was an ordeal that left him using Alejandro for support.

Instead of taking him to his usual station, Alejandro guided Miguel to the prey room, where a chair covered in pillows waited for him. Someone had dragged over one of the massive bags of wood shavings they used for the mice so Miguel could put his leg up, and the fruity scent of Yolanda's jello salad emanated from the room's dedicated refrigerator.

Stars, what had he done to deserve all this? With everything he needed in this one little room, he'd barely have to get up.

He'd just sit there tending to the prey. Alone.

"I know you'd rather be cooking, but we wanted to make sure you don't hurt yourself," Alejandro said gently.

Of course he'd rather be beside Alejandro all evening, enjoying the warmth of his smile alongside that of the stove. But he'd already made him worry far too much. If secluding himself would keep his partner from constantly thinking he'd collapse, then he'd gladly bear it.

"Not a bad idea," Miguel said, easing himself into the chair with a wince. Dr. Wilkins had told him he'd gotten off lucky: he'd only needed a dozen stitches, and if it weren't for his preexisting injury he probably wouldn't have needed a brace. Still, he felt weak and tired and simply not ready for a whole shift standing on his feet.

"You know where you can find me," Alejandro said. For once, he was the one giving a too-tight hug that took Miguel's breath away. "Take good care of yourself, okay?"

"I will." Miguel held him close, drinking in his lavender scent while he still could. He'd become so accustomed to Alejandro's warm, gentle presence that spending even an hour away from him seemed as horrible as losing the sun to a sea of storm clouds.

"I mean it," Alejandro said. "If this is too much—"

"I'll be fine, Moonbeam." Miguel forced his lips into a smile. "Maybe you could..." The words died in his throat. This was so stupid. Why couldn't he just let him work?

"Yes?" Alejandro pulled back, his warm brown eyes meeting Miguel's amber ones. Stars, why couldn't they stay like this forever? Just the two of them getting lost in each other, or maybe finding themselves. It was all the same to Miguel.

Which was why he couldn't let himself burden Alejandro.

"It's nothing."

"It's not nothing if it matters to you." Alejandro brought his hand up to caress Miguel's cheek.

Miguel leaned into his touch. He worried him whether he told him anything or not. Best to let it out.

"Maybe you could check on me a few times? I don't want to bother you. I just..." Miguel struggled to swallow the knot forming in his throat, but his muscles tightened as if he was fighting against the Carolina Reaper's heat again. "I'm going to miss you."

"Making you happy will never bother me." One kiss was all it took for Alejandro to ease the knot in Miguel's throat, but he didn't stop there. His lips trailed from Miguel's cheek down his neck, each touch sending warmth blooming across his scales. "Hopefully this will tide you over for a while," he murmured.

"Yes." Miguel's voice trembled from the force of his thrumming.

In times like this, Miguel almost forgot he was packless. With Alejandro, there was no longer a gaping void where Saguaro Pack used to be. There was only happiness. Wholeness.