Love is Always Write Anthology Bonus Volume

Inside, Sebastian quietly seethed. He'd had some idea that maybe if Daren's father and grandfather were out of the way, Daren could go back to some form of his life, clean up his mother, maybe do something good with all the family wealth. But something about the cold look in his grandfather's eyes clearly stated that the whole family would be dead and buried before Daren got anywhere near those family estates or the summer beach home. The last tie was cut, and for good or ill it meant that Daren was adrift. Sebastian held him while Daren cried himself to sleep, quietly fantasizing about his own bloody revenges against the Delawares just for putting Daren through all this.
    The next morning, Daren was in what Sebastian had dubbed an 'existential' mood. Which sounded better than depressed, sulky and non-communicative. Sebastian didn't even try to get Daren up and about for the day. After the morning shower ritual, Sebastian just gave him two Tylenol for the wrist and put him back to bed.
    "Is there anything you'd like from the store?" Sebastian asked as he was getting ready to head out. Daren shook his head; he'd been staring at the curtains since Sebastian had laid him back down. "Are you sure? I'm actually going to be shopping with real money." Daren shook his head again. He'd barely made eye contact with Sebastian since the night before. "Okay. I'm going to put some of that real money into my account so I can pay the rent and some bills." Daren nodded. "Okay. I've got my phone on me." When Daren didn't respond, he reached out and brushed aside a bit of Daren's hair. "We'll work this out. Promise." Daren was silent.
    ****

CHAPTER 9
    Sebastian strolled through the aisles of the fancy supermarket a few blocks up from the jumbo drug store. He'd fished out about five grand in older hundreds and deposited them in the night/weekend drop box at the bank. He'd rubbed a cigarette butt over a few of them first to get that smoky casino smell going. That was going to be his story if anyone asked. A good night at the tables. A blackjack system. Something like that. He'd shoved a few extra hundreds into his pocket and decided to splurge with the groceries a bit. There was brand-name shampoo, conditioner and a new toothbrush already in the cart. He'd grabbed some packets of 'keep refrigerated, cooks in five minutes' tortellini and ravioli. He topped it off with brand-name canned goods, some already-marinated chicken breasts, and bread that contained more flour than chemicals.
    Now he was looking at a display of exotic fruit. A few well-placed shore leaves meant he had actually tried most of the brightly colored, spiky, twisted things on display. He picked up one of the bright red spiked fruits and gave it a sniff.
    "It's called a dragon fruit," came a deep voice from behind him.
    Sebastian whipped around with residual paranoia. Behind him, a young man in one of the store aprons was smiling at him. He had a bright smile, longish blond hair, and looked like he spent a fair amount of time at the gym. He looked a little like Daren had that night at the Blue Dragon.
    "Actually it's called a pitaya or pitahaya."
    The young man shifted a little but kept smiling. "Says dragon fruit on our checkout computer. I haven't actually gotten up the guts to try one yet."
    The young man, 'Chris' according to his name tag, shifted again, moving a little closer this time, and cocked out a hip. Sebastian realized he was possibly being hit on. "It actually has a very mild flavor, a bit like melon. It's also very out of season."
    "You know your exotic fruits."
    Sebastian bit his own tongue trying not to laugh at how incredibly bad a pick-up line that was. "I've been abroad. If you want exotic fruit, try durian. It tastes a bit like almond custard." Sebastian didn't mention that it smelled so bad it was banned from public transport in most of Southeast Asia.
    A call for a cashier came over the store speakers. "That's me. I'll see you around?"
    Sebastian gave a little smile and a nod. He put the pitaya back and picked up a couple of mangos and limes, still smiling. It was nice to get hit on. He knew his mostly-barren sex life had more to do with his lack of social skills and general homebodiness than looks, but it was nice to know he could pick up a guy in the produce section if he wanted to.
    He took some time lingering over the tomatoes and asparagus. Just because he couldn't cook didn't mean he didn't like to eat. He topped off the pile with some