Feral Northern Shifters 2

double-time as he gasped as quietly as he could. Trying to catch his breath.
In someone’s bedroom. Where the fuck was he?
Quiet, stay quiet.
“Sweet dreams, Bram.” Words echoed from earlier, a friendly voice, even familiar. Ethan . Bram’s memories swam to the forefront of his panicked, stupid brain, and he slumped forward.
He forced himself to breathe through his nose. Cat hearing was excellent and he didn’t want Ethan to find him like this, waking from night terrors. Carefully Bram listened to the house, smelled it. No one here but himself and Ethan.
For now it was safe.
Bram slid his legs out from under the covers and placed feet on the floor. He walked with deliberate slowness to the bathroom down the hall, wishing he didn’t have to pass by Ethan’s room to do so.
Staring into the dark mirror, he was barely able to make out the shape of his face. It seemed oddly appropriate. He didn’t know what to make of himself at the moment and he didn’t trust himself. But Ethan was a shapeshifter too and could fend off Bram if he shifted and somehow got confused about who was friend and who was foe.
He pushed away from the sink, slowly and quietly turned the knob and opened the door to slip out. Ethan stood in the darkness right across the hall from him.
Bram sucked in a breath and Ethan said, “Hey, it’s me.” He tilted his head. “You remember, right? I know about memories after a recent shift.” His tone was wry, sympathetic, and Bram managed a nod.
“You okay?”
He could have nodded again, but it would look stupid. He cleared his throat. It felt clogged by the nightmare and his discomfort. “I’m fine.”
Ethan walked forward and Bram had to make an effort not to back up. The cat raised his palm and placed it on Bram’s chest.
“You’re all wet.” He didn’t remove that hand and it was warm against Bram’s cooling skin, even through the damp cotton. “I’ll get you a change of clothes, okay?”
Ethan spoke as if it were normal to need a change of clothes when Bram quite definitely didn’t have a fever. “I’d like to take a quick shower.”
“Sure.” Ethan nodded and Bram stepped back into the bathroom. “I’ll hit the lights for you.”
After the dimness of night, the fluorescent lighting was harsh and they squinted at each other. Bram turned away. He was trying to figure out if Ethan would want him to shut the door or not, and he couldn’t. But it didn’t matter because Ethan wasn’t a wolf who thought he should call the shots.
Bram stripped and stepped into the cold water, let it shock him out of his stumbling, fumbling brain, let it wake him up. He made himself stay under the water until he was shivering and freezing before he shut off the tap. As he pulled back the shower curtain, he saw a set of clean clothes lying on the counter. He quickly dried himself and dressed with stiff, uncooperative fingers.
When he returned to his bedroom, Ethan was there and had brought water and a sandwich.
“Thank you,” said Bram.
“Would you like something else?”
“I like this,” Bram assured him through chattering teeth. It was stupid to have taken such a long shower. He hadn’t thought it through, had just needed the distraction of feeling cold.
“How about coffee?” Ethan was frowning at him. The lamp was on, not as bright as the bathroom lighting, yet certainly enough to see each other.
“No. This is great. I’ll warm up in a sec. I always do. I like cold showers, but I think I overdid it.”
He wanted to apologize for his lack of judgment, but sensed that wouldn’t be received well, with Ethan looking so concerned. Bram couldn’t even trust himself to pick up the sandwich yet, and hoped his host wouldn’t take offense at that. Instead he took the lid off the bottle and drank up the water. Once that was done, he felt suddenly famished and polished off the sandwich.
Ethan, who’d been perched on the edge of a short dresser, abruptly put down his drink and walked over. Bram felt helpless, he couldn’t move or control himself or his thoughts. He remembered how Ethan had kissed him last night and run fingers through his hair.
“You’re freezing.” Ethan was all concern, not sentiment. “Get under the covers.” The cat’s hand wrapped around Bram’s biceps, making him jump even as he was dragged backwards. “What are you punishing yourself for? It isn’t necessary.”
“N-not punishment.” Between his body temperature and Ethan’s proximity as he lay down beside