Oh, Dear Lord!

With a breathless sigh, Calix rested his back against the front door and looked down at his towel-covered lower half. He sucked in a deep breath and forced the air out through pursed lips.

It was bad. Really bad.

There was an obvious reaction that shouldn't be there. It's a miracle he managed to hide it and keep himself composed when he made his exit. It would have been embarrassing if Klein caught him with a hard-on.

Cracking the door slightly, Calix peeked inside to grab a pair of trousers and check on Klein. The boy was still on his bed, still rubbing his hands to his pale skin, with nothing but a towel on. He closed the door again.

How can a guy looked so enchanting? Klein looked like the exact depiction of a modern pangantohan—a hidden tribe prince with an androgynous beauty that could rival or surpass any woman's! It's even rarer than hidden princesses.

Klein still had his boyish look, though. If he were to live in the ancient times and grow his hair long, he could certainly passed as one. But that would mean Calix would not be allowed to look at him, or he might get executed.

Okay, he's getting off-topic.

Calix marched through the dark hallway, distracting himself with thoughts that can effectively decrease the blood flow to his groin. He even thought of grandmas in their bikinis, and so far, they were very effective.

The self-service laundry shop next door was still owned by Miss Victoria. It was built to cater to her borders and nearby boarding houses. Since she was a close friend of his mom, she's like a second mother to him, so Calix wasn't ashamed to walk in with just a towel around his waist.

However, it didn't stop the lustful stares he received from both the ladies and ladies at heart. Miss Victoria found it an effective form of advertising, though, so she never reprimanded him for it.

"Leslie, how are the clothes I brought here earlier?" Calix asked, resting an arm over the counter.

Turning away from the television she was fixed at, Leslie, Miss Victoria's nineteen-year-old daughter, faced him. Her eyes swept over his torso first, before she shook away from her trance and replied, "Oh! The clothes?"

"Yes. The clothes. Is it done?"

"I'll... go check. Hold on." Leslie opened her log book and went to the row of card-operated washing machines made of stainless steel. "Twenty-five more minutes, but it's already on the dryer."

"Okay. I'll just wait. Sorry, I was in a rush earlier so I didn't get to attend to it myself."

"It's alright. No problem at all," Leslie mumbled, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. She was pretty for sure, but nothing exquisite.

Calix returned her timid smile, and squeals erupted from her gay friends because of it. They were always hanging around the laundry shop to gossip with Leslie and to mingle with Miss Victoria's male borders. And to catch him walking in half-naked.

Despite their hungry stare that almost stripped the towel off of his waist, Calix kept a friendly relation with them. He knew they wanted a piece of him, but he was already used to it. Many times he had received preposterous offers in a form of a joke, but he had declined it all since same-sex affairs didn't interest him.

Truly, it didn't.

———

Klein stared at the numerous missed calls and unread messages on his phone. They were countless from Khalil, two from Maya, three from his dad, and one from his mom, but he opened neither yet. He contemplated whether to let them assume he was kidnapped or informed his parents he was safe, at least.

His parents were already legally separated, so they no longer lived in the same house, but they were civil to each other without all the drama of ex-couples shown in soap operas. They didn't have a complicated family life.

Tapping on the only message his mother sent, it read: 'I'll be staying at the research lab tonight. Just order food for yourself. I've sent money to your account.'

Very touching.

If cold-heartedness was hereditary, Klein would have inherited it from her. She rarely showed motherly affection towards him, but she always provided with more than his necessities, so he's not going to complain. But if she heard of what he's been up to right now, he could expect a lecture.

Klein sent her a short reply: 'Ok mom. Thanks.'

The text messages from his father were a vast contrast. Klein didn't know if he should roll his eyes at how unfatherly it was. His texts were as follows:

Dad: Hey son! Whatcha doin?

Dad: Ur mom said she's staying in her lab. Wanna hang out?

Dad: I've got surprise 4 u! *wink*

If Klein didn't know his dad was a professional veterinarian of his own pet shop, he would assume he was texting a thirteen-year-old hipster. It's the reason he preferred staying at condominium even if his mom was rarely present. He couldn't keep up with his father's energy.

Klein: Not tonight dad. I'll just see you this weekend. I'm tired.

That wasn't a lie. Today's events exhausted him, so he lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. It's not like he could just drop by at his father's place after what happened. That would only invite danger to his family.

Khalil had been to the pet shop with him several times. If what Calix told him was true, then Khalil might take his dad as a hostage to get him. He could use that to his advantage and lure him to the pet shop.

"What a pain," Klein grumbled, shifting to lie on his side. He needed to devise a plan to avoid any of that, but first, he had to get some rest.

With a tired sigh, he let the pull of his heavy eyelids shut his eyes.

———

"Klein, here's—" Calix paused at the door to stare at the sleeping boy on his bed. He felt an involuntary gulp at how defenseless Klein looked.

How can he just sleep so soundly in someone else's bed with barely any clothes on?

Calix could only shake his head as he shut the door quietly. If he was a sex-crazed maniac, Klein would have been in danger. This was the reason he decided to act after he finally caught Khalil climbing to Klein's balcony early in the dawn.

Only a werewolf would dare climb to a balcony on the 32nd floor of a building. So far, Khalil hadn't harmed Klein yet, but only because he had been directing his lust to others. How many had fallen a victim since he first turned?

Calix was still unsure if Khalil Chua was a purebred born in a family of werewolves, or if he was turned by another. But regardless if he's a purebred or not, many lives had been compromised. That needed to stop.

To stop Khalil's secret rampage, either they had him caged or killed. That, or they had him claimed the object of his uncontrollable lust, finally.

As Calix swept his eyes on Klein's sleeping form, his pearly white skin sparkling like diamonds from the oil he applied, he would rather cover his hands with the beast's blood than let anyone tarnish Klein's body.

With Klein's clean clothes in his grasp, Calix sat on the edge of the bed and reached for the naked shoulder to shake him awake. But the contact of their skin froze him, his heart rate speeding up.

Unlike him, with countless of scars all over his body, Klein had the skin of a baby. Not even a trace of old scars or blemishes could be found. It only showed the kind of privilege the boy had. It felt sinful to touch him.

Calix had touched him, though. With Klein's permission, of course. But he still felt ashamed. He could have just let Klein apply oil to himself. The massage was not even necessary. It's not like he dislocated his shoulder.

Fuck! Everything about this was wrong.

Calix removed his hand from Klein's shoulder and turned away. He looked down at his palms. His lucky, sinful palms. Okay, he needed to stop. He's being ridiculous.

With a sigh, Calix placed Klein's clothes beside the pillows. He'll just let him sleep. He had done everything to mask their scents. Not even the werewolf with the sharpest nose can trace them here.

But he needed Klein to be clothed. Should he just put the clothes himself? But that might wake him up.

Looking around, Calix found the bedsheet folded under the pillows. He pulled it carefully as to not wake the other, but Klein had it trapped beneath his shoulder.

Calix climbed on the bed and cradled Klein's head in his arm to lift it off of the pillows. With his other hand, he fumbled for the bedsheet and pulled it out.

Just as he was about to lower Klein's head on the pillows, Klein shifted to lie on his back, destroying Calix's balance. Calix almost face-planted on the metal headboard had he not moved one knee to rest beside Klein's waist, straddling him inadvertently.

In that breath-stopping moment, Calix craned his neck to the side, nose brushing against smooth cheek. He stared at the fine lashes of Klein's closed eyelids, his ski-slope nose, and healthy roseate lips. He stopped there, finding himself taking another gulp.

'Get yourself together, Calixto! You save people from predators. Don't act like one!'

Calix moved away, but Klein rolled again, forcing him to drop on his back as the sleeping boy used his bicep as a pillow. He looked down at the knee resting above his inner thigh, then gazed up to the ceiling, unblinking.

'Oh, dear lord!'