“I was smiling at the fact that you insisted on carrying that box even though I was standing right there.”
“Oh, you were smiling! Well, you have an incredibly loud smile! So loud, in fact, it should almost be called something else. And I’m strong, okay! Look at these muscles!” Damien pulled back his sleeve to reveal his thin arms.
“Wow. Impressive,” Hakan deadpanned.
“And I practically have a six-pack!” Damien lifted his shirt to show off his flat and absolutely untoned stomach. When he looked up, Hakan was looking away.
“You have a beautiful body, Damien. That reminds me—Fitness Weekly called. They want you on the cover.”
“I can’t believe you’re body-shaming me right now.”
“You’re the one stripping in my kitchen.”
“Really? You, the werewolf who goes balls-to-the-wind every full moon, are shy about nudity?”
“Balls to the…I can’t with you,” Hakan laughed. “Let’s just do the damn recipe. Whose idea was it to cook together, anyway?”
“Koko’s.”
“Figures.”
Despite the playful arguing that extended throughout the whole of cooking, the end result was surprisingly delicious.
“Wow. This actually turned out good,” Damien said, humming around the next spoonful.
“Told you.”
“When did you tell me that? You were the one that was all, ‘Why are we cooking together? I hate you, Damien, I hate you and every vegetable you’ve ever touched.’ ”
“You’re joking, but that is honestly your internal voice sometimes, I swear to God.”
“How would you know what my internal voice is like! It’s internal.”
“Super ears.”
“Yeah. And in between your super ears you have a super empty head.”
“Eat your food!”
“You eat your food!” they shouted at each other before dissolving into laughter.
Damien went to the bathroom after they cleaned up the kitchen. As he stepped out, Hakan was on the threshold of his room, holding up a thick, hard-backed graphic novel.
“You wanna read?” Hakan asked.
Damien grinned. “Yeah!” he said, following Hakan into his room and throwing himself on the large bed. “Man, we haven’t done this in ages.”
“I know. You’re too cool to read with me back home now.”
“Oh, please. I’m too cool for exactly no one,” Damien replied, feeling a twinge of guilt nonetheless. He’d almost thought Hakan wouldn’t notice him pulling away.
“I’m not arguing with you again.”
“Who’s arguing?”
Hakan mimed zipping his lips before settling on the bed with far more grace than Damien had displayed.
They opened the book between them. As they began to read, it really was like old times. They easily recaptured the same rhythm they’d had when they were younger. The same shared excitement and awe. It felt like the steady sway of the sea coming in and out, in and out.
**********
Damien and Nasir kept in touch. They would text throughout the week—casual, everyday things that propelled their friendship forwards. They would frequent the same parties and end up going to Nasir’s. The guilt over Hakan faded to nothing, overshadowed by the sheer amount of fun Damien had with Nasir.
Despite this, they always used condoms, and Damien always showered afterwards. He couldn’t deny that he felt strange about doing it, however. Although he felt no shame about having sex with Nasir, his behaviour was sending him different signals.
In the end, he concluded that he simply didn’t want any complications. The thought turned out to be prophetic.
“Hey!” The voice caught Damien by surprise as he stepped out of the library.
“Hey!” he greeted back as he spotted Nasir. He stepped out of the main path as Nasir walked towards him, meeting in the middle.
“How’s it going?” Nasir asked.
“Just finished a project,” Damien said, smiling a little shyly. He didn’t particularly like talking about his work.
“Nice! That calls for a celebration.”
“Yeah! I’m actually going to meet a friend now.”
“That was a very subtle rejection, thank you,” Nasir laughed good-naturedly.
“Oh! I didn’t even—”
“Don’t even worry about it. Your time is yours. By the way, did you see that documentary I mentioned for Anthro?”
“Oh, yeah! You were so right. It was better than the freaking lessons.”
“I know, right?”
Their conversation wove in and out of schoolwork until Nasir had to go to his last class of the day. As if he couldn’t help himself, he wrapped his hand at the nape of Damien’s neck, rubbing at the skin with his thumb.
Damien raised his eyebrows. “I know what you’re doing.”
“I know, or I wouldn’t do it,” Nasir replied, although he looked a little sheepish.
“And they say gallantry is dead.”
Nasir smiled, and this time it was all wolf. He pulled Damien in for a kiss and Damien didn’t even think of not falling into the embrace.
Damien walked to Hakan’s, distracted. He thought about the essay he’d just written, wondering if the paragraphs were in the right place, if it flowed.
He reached the last step and was on the landing of Hakan’s floor when the werewolf’s door burst open. Damien yelped, almost tumbling down the stairs as he flinched away. Hakan grabbed him by the front of his hoodie, pulling him onto safer ground.
“Jesus, Hakan!” Damien said, trying to breathe through his racing heart. When he looked up at him, however, it only raced faster.
Hakan’s expression was a loop in time, a hole back to the day Damien had been told he was going to be fostered by the Salgados and he had reacted by hiding in the forest. Hakan’s wide eyes, his flaring nostrils, the wildness about him.
“What? Hakan, what is it?” Damien said, suddenly afraid. Hakan let go of him, stepping away.
“You…you smell like, like, other-wolf,” Hakan said. Damien blinked for a moment before comprehension dawned. The sudden embarrassment that stiffened his limbs was completely unwelcome.
“Yeah, well, I may or may not be sleeping with a werewolf,” Damien said, irritated.
Hakan stared, the expression leaching from his face until it was completely blank. Damien had never seen anything more terrifying.
“Hakan, what—Jesus!” Damien startled as Hakan half-moon shifted. Damien stared incredulously at the muzzle-like transformation, the hair and the yellow eyes and the fangs. “Hakan,” he hissed. “Are you crazy? Anybody could see you!” He pushed Hakan into the apartment, looking behind him to make sure they were alone. Thankfully, Hakan went without complaint.
By the time the door was shut behind them, Hakan had slipped out of the shift. He took a few steps away from Damien and started pacing in short, quick lines, pulling at his hair. Damien had never seen him so agitated.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Damien bit out, irritated now.
Damien was clearly being judged, which defied logic. Hakan had casual sex, so it couldn’t be that. Nadie had slept with other werewolves in the past, so it couldn’t be that either.
“Is this how you react every time you smell another wolf? ’Cause if that’s the case, it’s pretty fucked up.”
“No, Damien, just…give me a moment,” Hakan pleaded.
“Fine,” Damien said. A few seconds passed. “If this is you judging me for sleeping with him, I’m seriously going to—”
“I’m not judging you! Fuck, it’s not…just…” He pulled at his hair again, harder this time.
Damien’s anger transformed into worry. There was something happening that he wasn’t aware of. Damien took a few steps towards Hakan, who froze immediately, looking at him.
“You’re scaring me, Hakan,” Damien said softly.
Hakan drew in a sharp, quick breath. “I’m not—I would never hurt you
, never.”
“I know that. Jesus, you really are a mess.” Damien slowly put a hand on Hakan’s arm. Hakan tensed further. He almost seemed to be holding his breath.
“I. You’re the only pack I have here. You smell…he…” Hakan struggled for words. Damien sighed. He had to acknowledge that Hakan had instincts Damien couldn’t judge with human parameters.
“Okay, I’ll go wash it off, but we’re having a talk afterwards. This can’t happen every time I smell like another shifter,” Damien said. He could almost hear Hakan’s jaw grind at that, but the werewolf nodded.
“Okay.” He was staring at Damien’s neck as if completely entranced. “Can I…can I?” Hakan almost mumbled.
Damien frowned for a moment in confusion before it clicked. If Hakan washing the scent off with his own calmed him down quicker, then Damien was willing to suffer the werewolf’s hand on his neck.
“Fine,” Damien said. Hakan looked startled at the permission. Which made sense a moment later.
Hakan’s hand on Damien’s nape was expected. The way he leaned down, pressing his face into the side of Damien’s neck, wasn’t.
Damien’s throat clogged. He could feel Hakan’s breath, the sudden heat of his body, his hair brushing his forehead and cheek. He was suddenly there. Damien’s hands rose on instinct to clutch at the material on Hakan’s shoulders.
That close, there would be no mistaking the scent of arousal curling from Damien.
Hakan made a small noise and Damien would swear to God that his own toes curled inside his shoes as it puffed across sensitive skin. Damien closed his eyes and tried to contain himself, the tangle in his stomach and his racing heart, but then a hot, wet lick was pressed to the side of his neck.
Damien gasped, his fists tightening in Hakan’s shirt. The strip of skin seemed to burn as Hakan’s breath heated and cooled it at the same time.
Damien stayed completely still as it happened again, and again, and again. This was Hakan, Hakan, pressed against him, his mouth on Damien’s neck. He tried not to give more away, but then Hakan bit down lightly, the impression of teeth over a thrumming pulse point.
Damien moaned. He couldn’t help it. The sound was forced out by the want that had fermented under the ground so long it felt like need.
Hakan echoed the noise, another wanting, earthy thing.
Very suddenly, everything stopped making sense.
Damien’s body took over, shutting his thoughts down. His hands clutched at the back of Hakan’s neck, pulling him closer. Hakan moaned, pressing another bite to his skin.
“Hakan,” Damien choked out, and then he was weightless, Hakan’s hands lifting him up until Damien’s legs wound around his waist.
It was like a burning sickness went through him. He couldn’t think. There was only Hakan’s body and his breath and Damien needed, he needed—
Damien moved his face until his lips were a mere inch from Hakan’s. He could feel Hakan panting, the hot dampness of it. The world stilled for a moment.
In a way, this would be their second kiss.
This time, it was Hakan who leaned forwards.
The world dipped in honey. Slow, sweet, Hakan’s lips slid over his. Skin, skin, skin, until it was tongue too. God, the languid sweep of it, the press.
“Hakan,” Damien said again. A soft noise, a secret he had been keeping, his name tucked deep.
The world cracked open again.
Hakan’s body shifted, muscle and bones against Damien’s body. The world tilted; he could feel it through the closed-eyed darkness of the kiss devouring him. Damien’s back hit the softness of a bed and then he was being pressed into it by a creature of warmth and want.
The body over Damien’s was familiar. But not like this.
Damien couldn’t unlatch his legs from around Hakan’s waist. He wanted him closer. He arched his body, pressing his hips just there, just right. He could feel Hakan, hard for him. A thrill that scorched fields and land flared through Damien.
“Damien,” Hakan said, and he’d never heard his name like that. Not in that voice. It was a plea.
Damien tugged at Hakan’s hair until the kiss broke. He tilted his own head back, exposing the full length of his neck. The growl that trembled from Hakan shook the earth.
“I want—”
“Yes,” Damien said. He already knew what Hakan wanted.
The bite that suddenly stung on his neck wasn’t hard enough to pierce skin, but it was forceful enough to bruise. Hakan sucked at the spot, deepening the purple that would bloom there.
A mark.
Damien almost thrashed in Hakan’s arms. He was painfully hard in his jeans, his body undulating and rubbing against Hakan’s, desperate for more.
“Please. Please,” Damien groaned, but he didn’t have the patience to wait.
His legs unwound from Hakan’s hips as his hands made their way between their bodies. He unbuttoned and unzipped his own jeans first, just to ease the pressure, before concentrating on Hakan’s.
“Jesus. Are all werewolves this big?” Damien said as he pulled Hakan’s cock out, dark and already dripping. Hakan growled into his neck. Damien laughed. “Okay, no mentioning other werewolf dicks when we’re in bed. Got it.”
Hakan huffed a laugh, but it was curled around another growl.
Damien became instantly distracted by Hakan’s cock. He closed his fingers around him, pulling a few times, feeling Hakan tense and moan against him. Damien slid his fingers through the pre-come slicking the pulled-back foreskin before rubbing right at the tip, dipping the pad of one finger slightly inside.
Hakan jerked with his whole body, the noise he let out an unholy plea. He watched as Damien lifted his coated fingers to his mouth. Damien licked the salty dampness from his skin before slipping his fingers inside his own mouth, sucking.
“Jesus. Jesus Christ,” Hakan said. He watched for a moment, Damien’s lips around his digits, before springing to life.
There was a constant, low reverberation in Hakan’s chest as he practically ripped Damien’s clothes off him, followed by his own.
Damien looked at Hakan’s body. The expanse of dark skin, the moving muscles and taut stomach, the wide chest and shoulders. His cock, hanging hard and heavy between his thick thighs. Damien had seen the parts of this body before, but not composed like this. This was a familiar shape painted in a style he had never been witness to. The colours of Hakan were made bold with blood, the light of him glowing with sweat.
This was a Hakan out of Damien’s subterranean dreams.
When Hakan pressed his body down again, it was all skin. Damien shuddered at the feel of it, of Hakan’s cock sliding wetly against his hip.
“Please, fuck,” Damien moaned, and then Hakan’s hand was around both their dicks, rubbing them together, sliding a tight fist around them. Hakan was so wet with pre-come it slicked the way.
Damien looked between them. Looked at Hakan’s broad hand stripping them both, the way the heads of their cocks appeared and disappeared in his fist.
Hakan pressed Damien into the bed, leaving only enough space to move his hand between them. He was everywhere, a warmth that seeped through Damien until it burned. His lips, his tongue, his skin. Damien was cocooned in Hakan.
Hakan kissed Damien deeply, a buried growl making them both tremble. Damien arched and pushed his hips, fucking himself into Hakan’s fist.
God, it felt so good. To have Hakan there, wanting him. God, God—
The orgasm almost took him by surprise. There was so much, so much, until it suddenly burst. The wave of pleasure radiated across his foundation, closing the escape routes until he could barely breath, buried underneath its force. Damien moaned low, his come slicking the way further as Hakan kept pumping his own dick.
Damien opened his eyes. Hakan’s flushed face, his swollen, darkened lips, his eyes a translucent black that hinted at a shift. He was staring at Damien, eyes almost wide in wonder before they closed as orgasm hit him. Damien felt the hot ropes
of come hit his chest, one after the other. Damien wasn’t sure why he loved how much werewolves could come.
Hakan buried his face into Damien’s neck as he collapsed with a groan. He kept some of his weight off Damien, but most of it pressed him down, the mess sliding between them, making Damien feel every breath as his chest tried to expand under Hakan’s.
They lay there for a while, Damien protected from the rest of the world for a moment.
When Hakan finally moved, he rolled to the side of Damien, facing him. He ran his fingers through Damien’s mess of a chest for a moment, as if entranced.
“I get what you’re doing but I’m not walking around like this,” Damien said with a fond smile. Hakan huffed but left for a moment, grabbing a wet cloth and wiping Damien down extremely perfunctorily.
“Thanks,” Damien said sarcastically. Hakan ignored him, laying down. He pressed against Damien, but reality had crawled onto the bed with him.
Damien tensed. The pieces of what had just happened didn’t fit with the puzzle of the rest of his life.
“I…” Damien thought back to the state that Hakan had been in when it had begun. Wild, agitated. He swallowed roughly. “Did I…you were pretty out of it. Did I, like, take advantage of—”
“Jesus, Damien. No. Why, did I—”
“No. Obviously not.”
“Great. I’m glad we agree that was a fully consensual sexual experience after we had it.”
“Whatever. You were the one who needed freaking smelling salts because you smelt another wolf on me! What was that, by the way? You going to have a conniption every time I—”
Hakan started growling again. Damien looked at him incredulously.
“I have seriously never heard you growl so much. I think I’ve heard you growl more today than I have all the other years I’ve known you combined.”
“I have good control over my instincts. Usually.”
“Mmhmm…”
Damien understood why Hakan’s instincts were so out-of-whack. All of Hakan’s pack was far away and, after talking with Nasir, Damien understood the strain that must be placing on the balance of his Ousía. To have the only person connected to the pack, the one who he ran with, arrive smelling like other-wolf must have been hard to deal with.
In This Iron Ground (Natural Magic) Page 20
