Batshit Bassel (MM)


Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 20,177
0 Ratings (0.0)

Some people perform miracles, others serve soup.

Bassel Uxium will never save the world. He doesn't have the skill. He's the product of his parents' sin, a psychic with no control over his powers. But he can serve soup, and soup works wonders in its own way. He isn’t bitter about it. Some people create miracles, others give a frozen soul a warm bowl of love.

Thor Espen's life changed in a heartbeat. A few months ago, his sister died, and he became the guardian of his nephew. His life isn't fit for a child. He's the owner of a nightclub, and his schedule doesn't leave room for a cub. When his nephew starts spending time with the weird soup guy with the food cart outside his club, he allows it.

Bassel aches for the little boy who is cloaked in grief and tries to ease his sorrows with soup, one bowl at a time. He aches for Thor too, but in a different way. Thor should focus on work, but he can't get Bassel out of his head. Can a bear shifter and a defective psychic have something together, or will the budding relationship turn to ashes, along with Bassel's predictions of a fire?

Batshit Bassel (MM)
0 Ratings (0.0)

Batshit Bassel (MM)


Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 20,177
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Cover Art by Written Ink Designs

Before Riley could reply, a roar shook the sky, and soon a massive shadow engulfed him. Oh, shit. There was a bear in his personal space, a huge, angry bear. Bassel tipped his head back to be able to see his face. His eyes were brown with a hint of yellow near the pupils, and his teeth were too pointy to be human.

“Hello.” Bassel spoke low, not wanting to trigger the bear into doing something. He was drowning in guilt, grief, and fury -- not a good combination. “Are you hungry? I have tomato soup and cubed beef and barley soup.”

“Where is Dag?” The growl had Bassel’s bones vibrating, a weird sensation.

“In school.” Was this Dag’s father? He didn’t look like a billionaire, but he didn’t look dirt poor either. And he’d come from Come Inside, had he not? Bassel wasn’t sure, but if he’d come on the sidewalk, he’d seen him approach in time to prepare.

Some of the man’s fury melted away, and he dropped his shoulders a fraction instead of looming over Bassel. For a second or two, he said nothing, then he made a slow, very bear-like blink. “In school?”

“Yes, in school.”

“Ed said he was here.”

Bassel didn’t know who Ed was, but since the hyena had walked by when Dag had been there and headed into the nightclub, he could guess. “He was, on his lunch break. Now he’s back in school.”

The bear took a step back and ran a hand through his hair, then he gave Bassel a look as if he’d realized what kind of creature he was and wrinkled his entire face. Bassel tried not to let it hurt him, but damn.

“What do you want with Dag?”

Huh? “Lure him into the soup business, of course.” He took a deep breath not to let the anger blossom. What the hell did he think he wanted?

Riley snorted a laugh, and the bear whirled as if not having noticed them before now.

“Riley was curious about the club.” Bassel nodded toward Come Inside. “Are you open all days of the week?”

The bear nodded. “Yeah, seven days a week, three P.M. to three A.M.”

“Wow, people are there till three in the morning on a weekday?” Bassel shook his head in disbelief. He went to bed around ten every evening unless he got caught up in a book or a movie, but he wouldn’t dream about being out of his house at that time of night.

He glanced at the bear again. No wonder he looked exhausted if he worked those hours, poor soul. “How about some soup? I only have one chair I’m afraid, but you look like you could need some --” He almost said love because he looked like he could use some, but he’d been beaten enough times in his life to risk uttering such words in the presence of big macho bears.

He needed to bring more chairs. He only ever brought one, so he could sit if he got tired, but once the chair was there, people appeared to be needing it. He could fit more folding chairs on the cart. He’d mount another few hooks to hang them on.

“Eh ... no, thank you. I need to head back to work.”

It was not what he needed. He needed soup, but Bassel kept his mouth shut.

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