Chapter 2

The smile was back, and on his reflection, it looked scheming. Vic dropped the towel, but instead of falling at his feet, it flew back to its place on the rack and settled itself neatly across the bar. Then he raised a hand and his bathrobe jumped off its hook as if waiting to cover him. Vic shrugged into it, not bothering to close the front panels or tie the robe around his waist. This was proving to be a pretty convenient power to have.

Leaving the robe open, Vic left the bathroom. He could hear Matt talking softly in the kitchen…to himself? That was odd, but he didn’t want to open the mental channel between them because that would blow any chance he had to fool Matt with his latest ability. Then his foot found the one floorboard in the middle of the hallway that creaked whenever something passed over it.

So much for sneaking up on his lover.

As Vic headed for the kitchen, Matt called out, “Morning, babe. We have company.”

Adrenaline shot through Vic’s veins, jumpstarting his heart and setting his hands into motion. Quickly he tugged the front of his bathrobe shut. The ties jumped into his hands to be cinched tight around his waist. Jesus, he thought, covering up. All he could imagine was that little girl Matt had been talking to earlier on the stoop, sitting innocently at their dining room table and getting more than a glass of milk when Vic came into view.

As it was, the thought of company did little to dampen Vic’s ardor, and he had to push down the front of his robe, which threatened to tent over the budding erection he’d sported since waking. As he stepped into the kitchen, he groused, “You could warn a guy, Matty.”

No one waited for him in the kitchen, and the dining room table was empty. “Matty?”

The kitchen was a walk-through, the hallway at one end and the dining area at the other. The living room was adjacent to the dining area, and it was from there that Matt appeared. In his arms, he held a very large, very orange cat. “Look who’s up,” he said, his voice pitched higher than normal. Taking one of the cat’s paws, he waved it at Vic. “Hi, Mr. Vic. My name’s Tibbles.”

Vic narrowed his eyes, unamused. “Where did you get that?”

“Followed me home.” Matt set the cat down on the dining room table as he passed, then ran a hand along its back from neck to tail. Even from this distance, Vic could hear its ragged purr. “I think it’s one of Mrs. K’s. Maybe it got out when she left to get her groceries. What do you think?”

“Why is it on the table?” Vic asked, though he knew the answer already—Matt had put it there. Still, he didn’t know what else tothink. He wasn’t an animal person, really. He didn’t love them, didn’t hate them. They just sort of existed in the same world as he, and as long as they minded their own business and left him alone, he’d do the same. Hell, Vic could say that about most of the people in the world, as well. Allthe people in the world, if he were being honest.

Save one.

Matt sidled up to him, arms easing around Vic’s barrel waist as he pressed himself against his lover and puckered his lips to claim a kiss. “If it got out of the building, you know Mrs. K would have a fit, and her local superhero would have to spend his whole Saturday tracking down one lousy cat. Since it followed me in, I thought why not let it stay here until she gets back? You help her with the groceries, give her back the cat, and save the day. Even Superman doesn’t have it so good.”

“Superman doesn’t have this.” Vic wrapped his arms around Matt and gripped his lover’s buttocks in both hands as he pulled him closer for another kiss.

Matt laughed. “I don’t know. I often wondered about that Olsen kid. I mean, sure, Lois is hot, but who says Clark Kent didn’t want a little dick on the side?”

To Vic’s still-waking mind, Matt made no sense. “What?”

Another laugh, and Matt kissed the tip of Vic’s nose once before his lips found Vic’s again. “Jimmy Olsen? From the paper?”

Vic wasn’t following. “What paper?”

“Never mind.” Extracting himself from Vic’s embrace, Matt nudged his lover aside with his hip and opened the refrigerator. “Cats like milk, right?”

“Don’t feed it,” Vic muttered.

Too late—Matt backed out of the fridge with the carton of milk in one hand and a small leftover container in the other. Inside the container was a small section of smoked salmon, all that remained of their dinner the night before. “Good thing I saved this,” Matt said as he deposited the container on the stove. When he turned to retrieve a dish from the dishwasher, though, he found Vic still standing in the middle of the kitchen as if lost. “Hon, you’re in the way.”

The glare Vic leveled at him only made Matt laugh. It earned Vic a smack on the ass and a kiss on the cheek, as well. “Go sit down,” Matt murmured. “I brought in your paper. Let me get your coffee and what, some eggs? How’s that sound?”

With a confused shrug, Vic let himself be steered from the kitchen. Mornings weren’t exactly his best time of the day, and Matt seemed to relish making them more hectic than they had to be. A cup of coffee and a piece of buttered toast, and the paper stretched out in front of him across the dining room table. Vic didn’t ask for much.