Death Becomes Him - 27

Stepping away, Trent took Rory’s hand as they began walking again. “We have all night, or what’s left of it. Do you want to do something, like go down to the Quarter?”

“Are you up to that?”

“I slept today, before we left, so I’m wide awake right now.”

“Sweet! Then let’s do it. After we take Beau home.” Rory smiled, squeezing Trent’s hand. “I like that word. Home. It will be. It is, now.”

“Now, and from now on, as far as I’m concerned. Or, to be practical, until we have to move somewhere else.” 

“Which shouldn’t be for a while yet.”

That was one of the many things they’d talked about, while making their plans. There would come a time when people might begin to notice Rory didn’t seem to be getting any older. Then they’d have to find a new city, a new house, and new jobs. Until then however, they were going to live their lives to the fullest in New Orleans.

Trent whistled for Beau and when the dog reluctantly rejoined them, put his leash back on before they headed to the house. 

Rory snagged his backpack from where he’d dropped it on his arrival and the two men went upstairs to change clothes. Since they were sharing the bedroom, there was a brief moment as they stood semi-naked while deciding what to wear, when it seemed their plans might change. Then Rory chuckled. “Fun first, sex later.”

“Sex isn’t fun?” Trent replied in amusement.

Rory laughed. “Okay, rewording that. Fun first, then fantastic sex to top off the evening.”

“That works.”

They finished dressing, Rory in tight black jeans and a wine-red silk shirt, Trent in blue jeans and a less flamboyant pale blue shirt.

When they were back downstairs, telling Trent he’d only be a minute, Rory went to the kitchen, took a container of blood from the cooler bag and emptied it. “Do you have plastic sacks somewhere?” he called out.

“Under the sink.”

Finding one, Rory wrapped the empty blood container in it and deposited it in the trash can. Then he rejoined Trent and they took off for the Quarter.