Steam rises from two pots of pumpkin soup as Nash and Niko work side by side at the stove.  They’ve been cooking together most nights recently. It started with Nash watching Niko cook, wanting to learn without getting in the way, but it’s evolved into informal cooking lessons. Nash has noticed Niko cooking fresh meals more often now, doing less meal prep. It feels like maybe he actually enjoys the company.

Not that Niko's ever made him feel unwelcome, but Nash hadn't expected a place to live when he took this job. But then Niko found out that Nash was living in his car, and since Niko lived on his own in a four bedroom house, it made sense. Niko said it was more convenient to have Nash close at hand anyway, plus a little extra home security in the form of a werewolf roommate never hurts.

Still, Nash is careful not to overstep. However comfortable it's becoming, this is Niko's home, not his.

The kitchen fills with the rich smell of soup, and Nash is already anticipating burning his tongue on soup he’s too impatient to let cool when Niko’s phone rings. Niko checks the screen, frowns, then turns it to show Nash the caller: Sable. 

"Niko," Niko answers. As he listens, an amused smile creeps across his face. "Oh, hello, Aster. Yes, Nash did mention that." His smile widens. "I advised against it, but he's an adult. He can make his own decisions." A pause, then a laugh. "Believe me, I don't disagree. Did you just call to berate me, or would you like to talk to Nash?"

After another moment of listening, Niko holds out the phone. "It's Aster," he says, unnecessarily.

Nash takes the phone, half-aware of Niko taking their food off the burners behind him. “Hey,” he breathes.

"Hey," Aster echoes, and something in Nash's chest tightens at how normal it sounds.

“What’s up?”

“Oh, not much,” Aster says. “Just working on this enchantment.”

“For the necklace?”

“Mm.”

“It’s good enough, then? The sentiment?”

“You really have to ask?”

Nash leans back against the counter, one hand braced on its surface to steady himself. "Well, like I said. It's hard to quantify."

“Not for me.”

"Ah," Nash says, heat creeping up his neck as it suddenly hits him that putting all of his feelings into something and then giving it to someone who’s especially magically attuned to feelings might be a tad revealing.

“What are you up to?”

"I'm—" Nash turns to find Niko ladling soup into bowls. "We just finished cooking dinner." He catches Niko's eye, gesturing at the phone then the stairs with a questioning look. It's Niko's phone, after all. When Niko nods, Nash grabs his bowl with a grateful smile. "I'll take it up to my room and we can keep talking if you want."

“Mmhm,” Aster hums.

"You know, I'm starting to get suspicious," Nash says once he's safely up the stairs, out of Niko's hearing range. "The only other time I've seen you this friendly was when you were messing with Niko."

"That obvious, huh?" Aster's voice holds no bite, just quiet amusement.

Nash laughs, settling at his desk. "Well, you're either up to something or you actually like me, and I know which one seems more likely." He lifts a spoonful of soup to his mouth.

"It helps if I can get a read on you, for the enchantment. A strong connection. What are you wearing?"

The soup burns its way into his lungs as Nash inhales in surprise. "Fuck, Aster," he sputters between coughs.

Aster clicks his tongue. "That's not an answer."

"A black tank," Nash manages between coughs, his throat burning, "and grey sweatpants."

“Mm, okay,” Aster says.

"What about you?" Nash asks, trying to sound casual. "Turnabout is fair play."

"You know what I'm wearing," Aster says, and yeah, Nash does. Practically nothing, as usual. Nash's cock stirs in his sweats and he presses his palm against it, trying to behave. Is that something he's supposed to describe too?

“Where are you now?” Aster asks.

"In my room, sitting at my desk," Nash says. "The desk is solid wood—not sure what kind. My computer's on it. Black monitor, black case. No fancy gaming lights or anything. My bed's to my right, next to the windows. Big windows that look out over the forest, like the ones in the guest room."

"Good," Aster says, and the praise in his voice makes Nash's skin tingle.

“What enchantment are you doing, anyway?”

Aster’s voice drops low, a menace in it that’s entirely teasing. “Pray you never find out.”

“Should I be worried?”

“No.”

“Really, though. What is it?”

Aster sighs. “Really, though. I’d rather not say. But, since it’s a very reasonable question, I’ll let you ask another question and actually answer it if you keep playing along without me answering this one.”

Nash would've kept playing along regardless—he's pathetically eager for any scrap of attention Aster throws his way—but an actual answered question? That's too good to pass up. He expects to need time to consider his options carefully, but the moment he starts to think about it, he knows exactly what he needs to ask.

“Okay, deal,” Nash says. “What were you scared of when me and that other wolf were fighting?”

“Fuck. I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”. 

“I can ask something different if you really don’t want to answer.”

"No, no. A deal's a deal." The line goes quiet for several moments, just the soft sound of Aster's breathing. "A couple of years ago, there was an incident with a girl. I was uncomfortable having Layna touch me like that and I was worried I might lose control of my magic and hurt someone."

"Shit," Nash breathes, his fingers tightening around the phone. "I didn't..."

"Obviously," Aster cuts in, though even Nash isn't sure what he was going to say. "Layna didn't know. It's not her fault. I talked to her and I don't think it will be an issue going forward."

“Yeah, but… who hurt you?”

“You get one free answered question, not my life story. Just like I told you, it had nothing to do with you.”

“Okay. Can I ask if it’s just girls, though? Or…”

“I honestly don’t know,” Aster admits. “I haven’t had any guys get into my personal space since. So if you do, be careful. You’re a big guy, Nash.”

Nash's heart clenches. "I would never—"

“I know,” Aster interrupts. “But Layna touched my arm the other day and I exploded a fucking lightbulb. She’s zero actual threat to me and that’s what I’m like. I don’t know where the lines are and I don’t know what happens when you cross them.”

When, not if. The word choice hits Nash like a punch to the gut. Aster's talking like this is going to happen, and Nash can't untangle the knot of emotions in his chest. Hope that Aster might let him close wars with dread at how casually Aster assumes Nash will cross his boundaries.

"Touch the top of your head."

"Huh?" Nash asks, even as his hand lifts automatically.

“With the hand that’s not holding the phone, touch the top of your head. I have to picture you for the connection, remember?”

Nash straightens in his chair, throat tight. "Right. Okay. I'm doing it."

"Good boy," Aster purrs, and Nash's cock throbs so hard it makes him dizzy. Since when is that a thing? "Now touch your left shoulder, right shoulder. Left knee, right knee. Left ankle, right ankle."

"Okay," Nash manages, following each instruction with trembling fingers.

“What do you have for dinner?”

“Pumpkin soup.”

“Fancy. Why didn’t you make me pumpkin soup?”

“I didn’t know how until Niko showed me tonight. Cooking for you was eye opening. I realised that just being able to feed myself isn’t good enough. What kind of person am I if I can’t provide for someone else? I couldn’t take care of you properly, and that’s not okay.”

The silence stretches long enough that Nash has time to reflect on what a weirdly intense thing that was to say about his mediocre cooking. Finally, Aster's voice comes soft through the phone: "Eat some of your soup before it gets cold."

“Okay,” Nash murmurs. “Sorry.”

“Eat your soup.”

Nash slurps extra loud so that Aster knows he’s obeying. The soup is actually pretty good—not filling enough for a werewolf's appetite, but he wouldn't be ashamed to serve it to Aster. He'll need to raid the kitchen again later, but that's normal.

"So, the enchantment thing," Nash says, setting his spoon down. "How do you actually do that? What does it involve?"

“It’s mostly mental,” Aster says. “Layering on intention and connection in a way that slowly takes shape and gains strength. Like paper mache or shaping clay. I don’t have a physical focus, like the act of writing runes. That’s why I need your voice, to picture you in space. As a focus.”

“Do you always need the person who gave you the gift to help with the enchantment like this?”

"No." Aster's voice has already lost some of its earlier energy. "I'm only explaining what I'm doing right now. Don't bother trying to extrapolate. Now, put your hand on your head. Left shoulder..."

Aster guides him through the directions again and again. Each repetition comes slower, Aster's voice growing heavier, less interested in any conversation beyond the necessary instructions.

That's okay. Tonight has already given Nash more than he dared hope for. Something fundamental has shifted between them—either their relationship has deepened into something real, or Aster just put a curse on him. It’s one of those two things, and they both feel equally likely.