Page 99 of In This Iron Ground
“Oh. My God!”
“No!”
“Holy…okay…what…that has to be a werewolf thing. Thathasto be—”
“Nothing is a werewolf thing because we’re not having this conversation.”
“Wow. You want to pee on me.”
“No.”
“Wow. Wow, wow, wow.”
“There is no wow! There isnowow!”
“Wow.”
“I’m leaving,” Hakan said, moving absolutely nowhere.
Damien wrapped his arms around him with a laugh and for a second he almost joked,Maybe for our five-year anniversary.
He rubbed his forehead against the material on Hakan’s chest, hiding his expression.
“Maybe for your birthday,” he said instead. Hakan didn’t reply and Damien dissolved into giggles. “Oh my God…”
“No!”
*****
Damien didn’t tend to take the lead in sex often. Although pleasurable, he found the intimacy of it overwhelming, and sometimes he couldn’t catch his breath enough to say what he wanted. His slight frame seemed to suggest to men that he’d be the one underneath, and Damien didn’t challenge it. He didn’t mind.
That night, however, returning to Hakan’s after he had scent marked him in front of another werewolf, Damien felt propelled forwards by a force he couldn’t quite control.
Or, perhaps, it was his own control that felt foreign to him.
The scent of Hakan’s apartment was achingly familiar by then. So was the routine they easily slipped into. Taking off their shoes, their hoodies, moving around each other like birds in flight.
Damien stopped Hakan as the werewolf walked towards his room. Hakan paused, looking at him curiously. Damien stepped in front of him, sighing a little as Hakan’s arms looped around his waist loosely. He looked at that known face, lifting his hands to stroke his fingers down Hakan’s cheekbones, his jawline. He stepped a little closer. He tipped his head back, drawing Hakan for a kiss. For another. Pillowed skin and breath, but no more.
When Damien pulled away, Hakan’s eyes fluttered open. Damien wished he could crawl into that look. Could make it real and lasting. But he’d take what he had, for as long as he could have it.
Damien pulled Hakan into the bedroom. He laid him down in the darkness of the bed before turning on a lamp. Everything was orange and red and brown and the black of his eyes.
Hakan moved to the middle of the bed, holding Damien’s hips easily as he straddled his abs. Damien looked at Hakan for a moment. Hakan’s broad hand cupped his cheek, running his thumb over Damien’s skin.
Damien was melting into the damp earth.
Hakan’s hands trailed down his back as Damien leaned down for a kiss. The hot breath of Hakan overwhelmed him for a moment. The slick, slow slide of their tongues. And each noise, each small, trembling noise could be felt against each other, trapped between them.
Damien loved him with a force that could tremble the land. That could uproot trees and ransack mountains. It whipped through him for a moment, but then he was in the eye of the storm.
Damien broke the kiss to undress them. He didn’t move off Hakan any more than he had to, revelling in the expanse of revealed skin. For a few moments, Damien sat there clothed, running his hands over Hakan’s naked skin.
When it was skin on skin on skin, Damien guided Hakan’s slicked fingers to his entrance. He lifted his hips up, holding Hakan’s hand steady as he sank onto them. He let out a small noise, setting the pace, deciding when he wanted three, that he wanted the stretch of four.
“Oh, God,” Damien moaned when he had four of Hakan’s fingers inside him. God, the stretch, the burn and fullness.
But he still wanted more.
