[ it's true, they are impossible to resist. he remembers, seeing shepherd's first true crinos change, the rippling ruddy fur and wildness in his eyes. he thinks about his silhouette dancing in firelight. he thinks about the nightly routine of crawling into bed and just laying there elbowing each other until sleep claimed one or the other. the entire pack slept in one bed—codependence or just the feigning of a den in the wild, who knows.
wayland just knows he misses it.
she's close now, and wayland's heart is pounding. it's the furious craving of proximity. he can smell her—his senses sharp. he can count her eyelashes, her breaths, and as their noses brush, and as her lips slide over his...
he gives in. the moment before, he startles, like he has to think about the sensation to the very mores of its atoms, but presses towards it just a beat after. no. it's a kiss, and he feels it down his spine. his hands don't know where to go, but one inevitably settles on her ribs, resting softly.
she's kissing him, and he's kissing back, inexperienced, but willing, lips soft. he has the scent of old fires still clinging to him, blood, the forest, like home, like other wolves. it will fade in days to come but now, it's as real as it will ever be. ]
Ren... [ he murmurs softly between, but he doesn't know what to say after that, fingers eventually sliding up to rest against the side of her throat. he shifts to hold the angle of her jaw. ] Would you?
[ he doesn't finish. would you lay with me, he wants to say, but his voice dies in his throat. ]
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wayland just knows he misses it.
she's close now, and wayland's heart is pounding. it's the furious craving of proximity. he can smell her—his senses sharp. he can count her eyelashes, her breaths, and as their noses brush, and as her lips slide over his...
he gives in. the moment before, he startles, like he has to think about the sensation to the very mores of its atoms, but presses towards it just a beat after. no. it's a kiss, and he feels it down his spine. his hands don't know where to go, but one inevitably settles on her ribs, resting softly.
she's kissing him, and he's kissing back, inexperienced, but willing, lips soft. he has the scent of old fires still clinging to him, blood, the forest, like home, like other wolves. it will fade in days to come but now, it's as real as it will ever be. ]
Ren... [ he murmurs softly between, but he doesn't know what to say after that, fingers eventually sliding up to rest against the side of her throat. he shifts to hold the angle of her jaw. ] Would you?
[ he doesn't finish. would you lay with me, he wants to say, but his voice dies in his throat. ]