Page 54 of Guiding Desire

“I’ll say,” his dad said.

Orrey looked over his clothes and, feeling along the back wall behind them, finally found the errant alarm bot. When he lifted it out, its eyes were droopy and sad-looking.You look…just like I look,Orrey thought, wishing he could simply go and take a shower, get the medical everything off his face.

“Anyway, I just stepped out while we were having breakfast to let you know everything’s fine. I should get back.”

“But—” his mom started.

“Shh, he has responsibilities now. He’s a proper Conduit who managed to have a Guardian imprint on him,” his second mom said.

As if I never had responsibilities before, as if I made Senlas do anything,Orrey thought.

She went on. “Orrey, we’d still like to celebrate. Would your Guardian want to join? And when? And Conduit Coldis as well. He’s been so kind, calling us with updates.”

“And the rest of that team, unless they are more than we can properly host,” his dad said.

Orrey picked at the rough skin on his cheek. “I’ll find out, okay?”

“Please do,” his dad said. “And take care of yourself. Hounds, a Conduit for a son. You make us proud, Orrey.”

“Thanks, Dad. Talk soon.”

They talked over each other, theirbyesechoey. Orrey clicked off and dropped onto the bed, put his bot back in its place. The wonky thing stared at the pillow, then back at him, its eyebrows rising.

“No, not happening,” Orrey told it.

A knock on the door made him turn. Orrey was caught off balance, the space not quite yet feeling like his to make answering the knock automatic.

“Come in,” he said after a pause.

Senlas cracked the door open, looked around as if to make sure he wasn’t interrupting. He slid the door shut quietly behind him, Orrey’s bowl in his hand.

“I brought your porridge, just in case you’d like to rest in bed for a little while longer.”

The alarm bot gave a single squeak, not really an alarm, but for all Orrey knew, it had heard “rest” and had concluded it would need to wake someone from a nap soon.

“Stop that,” Orrey told it, cleared his throat, looked back at Senlas. “And I don’t want to rest anymore. Will you sit with me though?”

Senlas didn’t answer. Instead, he simply sat down next to Orrey, close enough their sides and legs were touching, handed Orrey his porridge.

“Did that thing get back there on its own?” Senlas asked, pointing at the alarm bot.

“No. I went looking for it. You put it away in the closet?” Orrey stirred his fire berry and tara porridge, the berries bleeding their purple juice, and the green tara leaves looking brighter for it.

“It wouldn’t shut off, and I didn’t want it to wake you up at the bleeding wound of dawn, or whenever protectors get up.”

Orrey chuckled. “Smart. It might’ve done that.” As if to agree, the bot sounded its double beep, which confirmed it had been set to a new alarm time. “Now it will definitely do that.”

“Should we get it fixed? So it can tell commands apart from conversation?”

Orrey smiled and shook his head. “No. I’m mostly keeping it for sentimental reasons. It woke me in the middle of the night sometimes, but it also never forgot to wake me. It usually woke me up extra early for tests. It’s…reliable, but weird. And I’ve had it for ages.”

“You’re saying I got a wonky alarm bot when I got a pretty Conduit, kitten. I’m not sure I like that deal.”

It was that moment, and Orrey knew it at that moment too, he grew to like Senlas, more than just a passing acceptance of the Guardian, more than just a sense that he was a good person. He was likable, and when Senlas accepted what any other lover might have dismissed, a barrier inside Orrey crumbled.

“Thank you,” Orrey said, once more relieved the damn stem cell yuckiness on his face hid his blush.

“What for? Giving the bot a home?”