Chapter 12 #2
That word slammed into Alexander like teeth into a wound.
Tobias was going to come on him, Alexander realized. The thought made his soft cock twitch against his thigh. He suddenly wanted it just as much as he had wanted Tobias to let him orgasm. He wanted Tobias to mark him, to claim him—
“Yours,” he heard himself say.
Tobias let out a choked moan. Come spurted over Alexander’s shaking chest and up his collarbones.
Alexander’s mouth watered. He wanted a hundred impossible and embarrassing things all at once. He settled for pulling Tobias back down and kissing him until they stopped shaking.
Tobias was ridiculously sweet after sex. He insisted on cleaning Alexander up and he kissed the spot above his shoulder stitches as he wiped around it. Then he insisted on cuddling on the couch, tracing patterns on Alexander’s back so gently Alexander had to make him stop.
He also liked playing twenty questions.
This was how Alexander discovered that Tobias got his name from a middle-grade book series from the nineties.
That he once got detention in grade school for smashing a lunch tray into the face of his best friend’s bully.
That he and his sister used to play yellow car on road trips with such enthusiasm their parents outlawed it.
That their parents died in a car crash during one of those very road trips, driving to pick up dinner while their kids were playing at the beach.
Tobias hummed when he was reading. He had a collection of motorcycle magazines and often thought about becoming a mechanic.
His anime phase lasted three years during high school, stopping just before he got turned.
He spoke conversational Spanish, courtesy of his grandmother.
He also spoke Pig Latin, which he counted as a language no matter what Alexander said.
They spent most of the day like that: talking, eating and giving each other hand jobs that made Alexander genuinely concerned that this was the best week of his life, which would be terrible if it was true.
“So,” Tobias said as the evening drew closer. “What do you think of mates?”
For a bizarre second Alexander thought he meant the British slang for ‘friends.’ Then it clicked. He yawned against Tobias’s hairy chest. “It’s rare, isn’t it? Among wolves?”
“Right, yeah,” Tobias said, oddly fast. “I haven’t actually met any mated couples.”
“I think it’s barbaric.”
Tobias paused. “Because it’s a monster thing?”
“Obviously.”
Tobias chuckled. There was something strange underneath it, but it was difficult to focus on what that might be with Tobias’s thumb trailing slow lines up Alexander’s arm.
“I think it’s kinda romantic,” Tobias admitted. “All fate and instinct. Blood working its will. You can sense them no matter where they are, ’cause they’re yours.”
Alexander wrinkled his nose. “What if you get stuck with someone awful?”
Tobias shifted underneath him, the sheets pooling around his waist. “I don’t think that’s how it works. Whoever it is, there’s something about them that makes you work together.”
His voice was strange. Alexander looked up to find Tobias already watching him, his face unreadable as he stroked Alexander’s arm.
“What?” Alexander asked.
“Nothing,” Tobias replied with a smile. “Just glad you’re still here. Kinda thought you’d leave, after.”
Alexander ducked his head. He almost preferred the slick, jokey Tobias over this sweet, soft one—at least he could keep his guard up around the jokey one. A sincere Tobias was even more trouble.
“You asked me to stay,” Alexander said.
“I’ve asked you before.”
“Yes,” Alexander said. “Well.”
He thought about telling him the freedom his father’s words had given him: we won’t ask. Lifting the burden of their all-seeing eye from him, providing a freedom that he never knew was possible.
Until he went home, of course. Back to his real life.
“I thought I should make the most of our time together,” he said. “After we get rid of Muzzle, we’re both leaving. Right?”
Tobias grunted thoughtfully. “Could leave with me.”
Alexander snorted.
Tobias said nothing. When Alexander risked a glance up at him, he was still watching him.
“Be serious,” Alexander said.
Tobias took his chin. “Run away with me.”
Alexander narrowed his eyes. He still couldn’t tell if Tobias was being genuine or not.
If he wasn’t, then he was a jackass who could tell how unreasonably stupid Alexander was over him and was using it for a cheap joke.
But if he was…then he really was as sweet as Alexander feared. Which was infinitely more dangerous.
Alexander pulled out of his grip and stood. “If you’re going to be like that, I’m leaving.”
“Don’t,” Tobias said.
Alexander ignored him, walking around the couch toward his jeans.
“We shouldn’t have done this,” he said, unsure how much he believed it even as he said it, only knowing that it was what he should say. “If you’re getting attached—”
Tobias made a strangled noise.
Alexander turned.
Tobias was doubled over on the couch, clutching his chest. His skin was beaded with sweat, his face creased in agony as a horrified growl worked out from behind his clenched teeth.
Alexander ran back, dropping to his knees in front of him. “Scars or wolf?”
The golden glint in Tobias’s pained eyes was answer enough. Tobias lifted his head, shaking with effort.
“Boss is calling,” he managed. “I need to get to the arena.”