Will sluggishly blinked his eyes open, turning away from the light filtering through the slightly parted curtains. He let out a noisy yawn, in protest of whatever stirred him awake. The lightly tweeting birds outside the window were probably the culprits.

Blinking to clear his vision, he saw he was alone in his bed. And Harry’s spot no longer held any warmth. He pouted before linking to him.

Babeee, it’s Saturday. Can’t you sleep in for once?

It’s half past 12, Harry’s affectionately exasperated voice echoed in Will’s head. It’s not possible for me to sleep in that late.

Will sat up, stretching his arms toward the ceiling. He twisted to the side to crack his back. Maybe I’ve got some bear in my blood.

Oh, is that why you’re so hairy? 

Will chuckled aloud at Harry’s quip. No…I’m this hairy so I could attract a Harry.

“You’re ridiculous!” Harry shouted from a different room in the apartment.

“And you love it!” He shouted back, finally rolling to his feet, ready to tend to his basic needs. After using the bathroom, he snatched a pair of abandoned sweats from the floor before hopping into them as he strolled toward the kitchen, following his awakened sense of smell. He was in awe of the sight at the kitchen island. Harry sat there in a "Kiss the Cook" apron Will had given to him for his birthday, a gift that was more for Will.

In front of him sat a plate with a grilled cheese sandwich, with a note of garlic riding on the sharp cheddar scent, a sloppy joe, the sweet and savory meat falling onto to the plate, and a PB and J, carefully placed to avoid the meat.

“You truly are the most perfect specimen werewolf-kind has to offer,” Will gushed to Harry, before picking up the sweetest offering, moaning around his bite of gooey goodness.

Harry snorted. “You might wanna try looking at me the next time you say that. I don’t like losing to food.”

Will brought his gaze back to his partner, offering a coy smile. “Honey, I hate to break it to you but you always lose to your creations.”

He rolled his eyes. “I guess I’ll have to stop cooking.” 

Will narrowed his eyes at the suggestion, polishing off the first sandwich. “Don’t you dare.” 

Pushing away from his perch on an island stool, Harry approached Will with a smirk. “I’m starting to think you’re using me for my talent.”

Will picked up the plate to start on the grilled cheese. “Of course I’m using you for your talents.” Before Harry could speak, he went on. “Your talents well surpass a place in the kitchen though.”

“I know, I really am a catch.” Harry’s sighed response made Will roll his eyes. He went back to munching through the crisp melt before devouring the protein-rich option. He practically licked the plate clean, before opting for a fork to pick up the fallen meat at the suggestion of Harry's twitching eyebrow.

“So…” Will cocked his head at Harry’s segue. He wasn’t much of a conversation-starter so this had to be interesting. 

Harry stared into Will’s eyes, his expression determined. “I’m going to be keeping a secret from you for a little while. And it’s nothing, uh, relationship-ending or something, I’m not doing anything behind your back and I don’t think I’ll ever have to actively lie to you or anything, but I can’t tell you something until a certain amount of time has passed because…of reasons. But you will know, I promise.” Harry’s eyes had widened during his rant, now pleading with Will’s to understand.

“Okay,” Will nodded.

Harry nodded back, a little too aggressively. “Okay! Uh, okay. Sorry, by the way.”

Will smiled innocently. “Hun, I understand. I trust you to tell me when you need to.”

Harry nodded again, a faint smile gracing his lips. “Good.”

Will turned away from Harry to place his dishes in the sink, turning on the water to wash some of what was already there. 

He wondered what this secret could be…It had to be something interesting.

“Ughhhhhh,” Dusty groaned lowly into his cup of water, considering putting his sunglasses back on inside the well-lit bistro. A hangover brunch was exactly what he and his friends had agreed they needed but with none of them willing to do the cooking, out they went.

“Bruh,” Dusty looked up into Ari’s matching face of discomfort, “Groaning doesn’t help. Trust me.”

“Y’all should have a mimosa,” Sebastian said, unashamedly donning his shades indoors. “Trust me.”

Dusty picked up his scrunched-up straw wrapper, lobbing it at Sebastian’s head. With his strained eyesight and poor aim, it just bounced harmlessly off the booth cushioning. 

Sebastian pouted. “Do you not appreciate my friendly advice?”

“Not when your friendly advice is why I feel this way!”

Sebastian twisted his lips to the side, reaching a hand up to play with the row of studs and hoops decorating his ear. “Is this about the sext thing? I’m pretty sure they were cool with it.”

Dusty’s fingers, which had been tracing the condensation on his glass, froze at the words. His eyes darted away from the water, first to Sebastian, who wouldn’t meet his stare, then to Ari, who furrowed his brow at Dusty's expression. They sat there in tense silence before Ari's eyes widened and he cursed under his breath. 

“Dust," Ari blew out a breath, "What do you remember from last night?” 

Dusty stared at Ari, waiting. Ari cleared his throat.

“So, we were talking about relationships and shit, and like, who we wanted to sleep with…” As Ari trailed off, his gaze shifted off to the side. Dusty’s gaze slid to Sebastian, who could not look more guilty if he tried. 

“Sebastian,” Dusty arched an eyebrow at the man.

“Look!” He started, fidgeting in his seat. “You brought up those guys you worked with and, and I was about to text them for you, but then I didn’t!” His voice rang out triumphantly, but he continued to pull at his piercings. Dusty’s hard stare prompted him to continue. “But then…I handed your phone back and you sent what I was joking about sending.”

Dusty took a calming breath, closing his eyes. “Am I gonna freak out?”

“Yes,” two voices answered.

He brought a cold hand to his forehead, the sensation soothing to his growing headache. He could look at what he sent and freak out but know all the facts. Or…he could remain blissfully ignorant. Without second-guessing his actions, he pulled his phone from his pocket and set it on the table, then rested his head in both palms. 

“Tell me, in as little detail as possible, what happened.”

He ignored the whispered conversation between his friends. Their confusion was well-founded. Any other time Dusty had blacked-out, he wanted to know everything that went down. The good and the bad. He had relived humiliation, excitement, terror, love, pain. He had his friends recite, word-for-word if they could, what he had done and what had happened to him. He refused to ignore the truth. He had done the same thing as a child, listening in on "adult" conversations that were about him. But, for once, he thought of all the burdens he had to carry because he wouldn’t let anything go. Suffering through panic attacks because his mind had too much knowledge of what could happen, what had happened before. Having nightmares of events he had heard from someone else. Attaching to everything and nothing because it all felt so real and so fake at the same time. Whatever happened with Will and Harrison would be footnotes in comparison to the rest of Dusty’s long list of truths. But it was the first time he had considered not adding to that list. 

He released his head and met Sebastian's eyes, then Ari's. "I just, I know that I don't need to hear what happened. I don't want to, I never want to, but I'm pretty sure I can live without knowing whatever this is." Ari hesistated before nodding in agreement.

Dusty listened as Ari explained that he had accidentally sent a flirty text to Will and Harrison, but that Harrison had messaged back saying that they could ignore the text as long as Dusty stayed professional. Dusty ignored the incessant voice that said how much worse the incident had to be because he knew it was right. But he wouldn’t give a flying fuck. 

“Got it,” Dusty sighed then nodded at his phone. “If you could just delete any evidence of that conversation, that’d be great.” He grimaced at Ari’s rapidly-blinking eyes. Once Ari had finished, he handed Dusty’s phone back to him. An awkward silence fell over then.

Ari cleared his throat again. “Do you want to talk about it anymore?”

“Not right now,” Dusty picked up his menu, making his disinterest in that kind of conversation very clear. “I just want to have a good meal with you guys.” He glanced up to give them a half-hearted smile.

And then, he thought, I want to have a good night at the club.