Chapter Text
It isn’t exactly a secret that the werewolves aren’t well respected members of the supernatural community. It isn’t a Wellington specific issue either; as far as Anton knows, all werewolves are treated this way. He just doesn’t know why.
It might be down to the fact that they mostly lived as humans, but then again, so do witches. They might be cleaner than most of (all of) Anton’s pack, but why did that make the wolves any less deserving of respect? He had a sneaking suspicion it was something to do with the Vampiric Council, because they’re the oldest institution Anton knows of which impacts the supernatural world and what they say is generally held as law. If one group of them hated werewolves, so did the entire community. And that just wasn’t fair.
Becoming closer to the vampires made things a little easier; they were invited to the Unholy Masquerade now, even if they were treated like a travelling circus act. And they were hardly harassed on the streets anymore.
Everything was improving, no matter how slowly, but it was still frustrating, and upsetting, to be treated as less than for something about himself he can’t change. It was almost laughable, how the supernatural community worked; nobody batted an eye at him being gay, or dating a vampire, but would sneer when they realised he was a wolf. Anton just couldn’t wrap his head around it.
And this sense of isolation is what eventually pushes Anton to contact other local packs.
It hasn’t been easy.
Some alphas were too proud to come into another alpha’s territory, some were just not interested and others were simply too far away. Most didn’t reply at all. In the end, a small pack of four wolves from Napier were the only ones who agreed to make the journey to Wellington, and Anton is as nervous as he is excited.
Stu and Nathan M have almost finished tidying the place, and Anton can hear Clifton and Declan’s attempt to cook dinner. Everyone has done their part besides Anton, really, who has spent the day fussing, and pacing, and just generally stressing out. He glares outside at the sun, wishing Viago was there with him.
“Anton, I can hear a car!”
Declan shouts from the other room, and suddenly the whole pack is popping up like cockroaches, scrambling to get to the window, straining to see outside.
Anton sighs, but doesn’t chastise them. They’ve already had conversations about behaviour in preparation for today, but the reality is the pack are almost everything to Anton, a deeper connection than friends or family. Being a wolf was special. It was a shared code, a shared understanding. A shared soul, on the night of the full moon. And a shared suffering. He wouldn’t change them for anything in the world, and he didn’t care what others thought of them, not really.
He takes a deep breath and heads towards the door, his wolf fighting against him the whole time, because another alpha is in his territory, outside his den, and it makes the pack vulnerable and it’s all just - wrong.
Anton grits his teeth against the onslaught of thoughts, and the rapidly growing headache they cause, and steps outside onto the drive. At the same time, a car pulls up. It’s an old and battered vehicle, decorated with dents and rust. Anton is almost impressed it's survived the journey, and smiles.
His smile drops instantly when the first person exits the car. Anton feels the wolf’s warnings like a physical pain, and although he tries to rationalise that it’s just the wolf messing with him, Anton knows that's not the case. This is instinctual, primal, a bone-deep sense of wrongness which has hairs raising on his skin and a growl fighting up his throat.
The man was undoubtedly the alpha. He’s confident and well put together, and if he felt the same tension Anton felt, he didn’t show it.
“Anton, I presume!” He grins, striding towards Anton quickly - too quickly - and pulls him into a tight hug. “I’m Brett. Good to finally meet you, brother!”
Anton wishes the feeling was mutual.
The rest of Brett’s pack amble out of the car, huddling behind their alpha with wide, unreadable eyes. They were definitely quieter than Anton’s pack, and Anton finds it unsettling.
Going against every piece of his nature, and his better judgement, Anton invites them into his den, to meet his pack.
“Come on in and meet the boys.” He casts a quick glance at the three men hiding behind Brett. “They’re all very excited to meet you.”
The second they enter the house, the new werewolves are overwhelmed with greetings and questions, and well wishes. So many, in fact, they seem taken aback by how kind and friendly Anton’s pack are. The swell of pride Anton feels does little to calm his growing sense of unease.
Once beers have been handed out, and everyone has settled, Brett takes the seat next to Anton’s, throwing his arm over the back of the couch.
“It feels good to meet another alpha, man, I can tell you that for nothing.” Brett takes a long drink from his beer, eyes never leaving Anton’s even with his head tipped back.
He’s younger than Anton, but not by much. There’s an arrogance there too, one Anton would usually put down to youth, but the reality is Brett is easily almost thirty. Brett leans in close, smacks his lips together.
“You know, it’s actually just nice to meet someone who is in on the secret.”
Anton raises his brows, tries to subtly put some distance between them.
“What secret?”
Brett grins and it’s joyless, more of a curl of lips, a soundless snarl.
“That this alpha shit is easy, man. You tell them what to do and they do it. They have to obey us, how fucking cool is that!”
He doesn’t frame it like a question, and Anton doesn’t answer it, his stomach flipping as the wolf inside prowls in discontent.
“I mean, there’s a lot more to being alpha than that.” Anton tries to keep his voice steady, to not sound standoffish, using every anger management skill he’s learnt since becoming alpha. When Brett does nothing but stare at him in total silence, Anton continues.
“Like, sure, there’s an element of command there, of being in control, but I only utilise it to keep them in control. To me, being alpha is about keeping the peace and keeping them safe. If I asked one of the pack to do something he was seriously against, we would talk it through, you know? Communication is everything, especially for an alpha.”
Anton shrugs, sips his own beer. Brett seems to consider for a moment and Anton is pleased, hopeful to make a difference to this pack - until Brett leans forward and laughs, right in Anton’s face.
“You really believe in all that mushy shit, don’t you bro?”
Anton feels his pulse race, the wolf inside snarling, and he’s about to defend his pack and his pride when a loud knock on the front door has his mouth snapping shut.
“Excuse me.” Anton mutters through gritted teeth, pleased to have an excuse to remove himself from the situation. The adrenaline still spikes through his system, the wolf is still restless, but Anton has something better to focus on now, because the sun has set and he wasn’t expecting any other visitors, which means -
Viago has already let himself in by the time Anton reaches the front door, and he looks sheepish, as always (and fucking beautiful, as always), as though Anton doesn’t leave his door unlocked for specifically this reason; as though Anton wouldn’t give Viago everything, if he’d just ask for it.
“Hallo, little wolf! I let myself in, I hope that was okay.” Viago doesn’t wait for a response, is already removing his jacket and hanging it on the hook by Anton’s door, holding out a handful of items with wide, sparkling eyes. “The sun has only just set and I was feeling it a little bit warm, but I found those books we were talking about and I was so pleased that I just had to -”
Anton cuts Viago off with a growl, barely giving the vampire time to respond before he’s crowding him against the wall of his hallway and kissing him hard. Maybe it’s the rest of the adrenaline still pumping through his system, or the fact that his mate is here and there’s another alpha, or maybe Anton just loves Viago that much, needs him, can’t fucking get enough of him, but all Anton can think are wild, frantic thoughts about Viago’s mouth, his hands, the pretty noises Anton can coax from him. Anton wants to claim him there, in the hallway, with his pack and another Alpha only one room away.
It wouldn’t be the first time, either. They were living as a mated pair for a while before Anton truly realised what that meant. He had told Viago in a rush of words and a furious heat in his cheeks, and Viago had been excited by the idea, had bared his neck and let Anton’s fangs slide in, claiming him for all the world to see. But Viago was still a vampire; he healed quickly, and the bite only lasted for a couple weeks at a time. In general it doesn’t bother Anton. Everyone who knows them also understands that they were a pair, and Anton loves the thrill of getting to claim his mate before every full-moon, but now he can see the expanse of skin where his bite should be and he’s half mad with it, desperate to make sure the new wolves understand that Viago is his.
“Anton, shit. What has gotten into you?” Viago pants against his mouth but makes no effort to pull away. He draws closer, even, hands falling to Anton’s hips until they’re pressed flush against each other, and drops the books on the floor, entirely forgotten. “Is the other pack here yet?”
Anton growls again, the only response he can muster as he nuzzles his face into Viago’s neck and scents him. The wolf is delighted that they get to do this, that their mate is fond of this part of them too, and Anton feels the sparks all the way down his spine. It has his cock filling fast which is bad. Brett might be a fucking arsehole, but the whole point of this arrangement was to make connections with other wolves, to build a community for his pack. Anton can’t exactly prove himself as an alpha if he gets caught rutting against his mate until they both come in their pants.
So he pulls away, barely, allowing himself space to grit his teeth and pant and try to get control of his raging fucking hormones. He needs a second to breathe, to regain some actual control -
He isn’t given the opportunity.
“Anton, mate, the boys are running out of beer! What the hell is taking so - oh.”
Brett pauses in the hallway, brows raised and a smirk on his lips which Anton kind of wants to punch, and takes in the two of them together. Anton’s grip on Viago tightens but Viago is so strong, and he wriggles free of Anton’s grip easily, moving towards Brett with an extended hand and a friendly smile.
“Hallo, my name is Viago. It is a pleasure to meet you!”
Brett takes the hand Viago offers and shakes it once, twice, holding on for longer than Anton and his wolf are happy with, especially since his gaze is so obviously trailing up and down Viago’s body.
“Brett. Good to meet you, bud. You joining us for a drink?”
Viago turns to look at Anton briefly, a quick check to make sure he isn’t intruding on wolf affairs. Although Anton does feel better that Viago is here, with him, he can’t help but feel a little uneasy, especially since Brett still hasn’t let go of his fucking hand. Stiffly, Anton nods, and Viago turns back to Brett.
“I would be delighted to.”
Using his grip on Viago’s hand, Brett pulls the vampire in close.
“As long as you promise we’re not on the drinks menu tonight, of course.”
Viago laughs lightly, thinly. It’s certainly not the worst thing Anton has heard a werewolf say to him, and that’s including comments from his own pack before they had become friends with the vampire coven, but his skin still prickles with it.
“Of course, you are perfectly safe with me.”
When Brett smiles, it’s all teeth.
“Good.”
He lets Viago go just before Clifton pops his head around the door and announces,
“Viago’s here!”
The pack all cheer in the next room and Viago excuses himself to go and greet them, sparing an apologetic glance back at Anton before he disappears out of sight.
Brett watches him go, and when Viago is far enough away he jostles his thumb in the direction of the living room and whistles.
“Shit, is he yours? We don’t have pretty little things like that in our neck of the woods.”
There isn’t even enough time to process that, let alone respond, before Brett is slipping back into the living room after Viago, joining the ever-growing rowdiness from both packs together.
Anton clenches his fists so hard his knuckles whiten, then he exhales a deep breath and lets all the tension just - drop away. He can’t do this now, can’t give in to the possessive alpha bullshit which is vibrating through his fucking skull like a group of cicadas. The reality is, he trusts Viago, trusts in what they have together, and the human part of Anton has to make that be enough even if the wolf is snarling inside. Still, it doesn’t feel right in his gut to leave Viago alone for long, so he forces himself to move, to gather Viago’s books and leave them somewhere safe, to fake a smile and calm his breathing, and only then does he join the rabble of wolves and his beautiful mate in the living room.
He already knows it’s going to be a long fucking weekend.
~’*’~
The two packs are getting on better than Anton could have ever hoped for, so much so that he’s actually starting to feel pretty fucking positive about this whole thing. It helps having Viago with him, because everything feels better when they’re together, and the evening just becomes - nice.
The other three wolves start to come out of themselves a little, and Anton learns their names (Liam, Mason, and Ezra) and their hobbies (fishing, stamp collecting, 80s sci-fi). They even start to laugh, too, when Dion brings out another crate of beer.
It gets easier to ignore Brett.
He’s cornered Stu at the opposite end of the room, and although Stu seems to be listening intently, he’s slowly slipping further along the couch, sinking into it, and Anton wants to go and rescue him but he also doesn’t want to make a scene. He’s about to suggest music, or a game, when Viago places a hand on his knee and squeezes it gently.
“I am just going to refill my glass, mein Liebling. Is there anything you want from the kitchen?”
Anton smiles, slow and lazy now the alcohol is starting to course through his system.
“I’m good, thanks love.”
Viago places a kiss to Anton’s cheek and picks up his wine glass, stained red with the alcohol-blood Anton keeps stocked in his fridge, and leaves for the kitchen. Anton watches him go, because he’s lovely and his and he can, but his attention is re-focused when Liam slips into Viago’s place and starts asking Anton about good local fishing spots, and recommendations for new equipment.
He’d almost forgotten how good it was to socialise, how much he missed the human aspects of his life like this. Anton isn’t sure if he would change being a werewolf if he could; it brought him his pack and his community and Viago, and they’re kind of his entire world now. But he misses going to pubs and talking to strangers without having to worry about hunters, about the primal rage surging up and exposing him for what he was. He misses the quiet life, the simple things, and it hurts sometimes but still - Anton isn’t sure if he would change, because this is who he is. It’s a big question, a complicated one, and Anton doesn’t let himself dwell on it for long because he’s halfway to drunk and surrounded by people, most of whom are his friends, and he doesn’t want them worrying about their alpha.
So he opens another beer, listens to Liam for a while, and gives non-committal nods and hums to show his interest when they’re required. His brain is turning hazy, and he’s getting a bit tired, not used to this level of social interaction anymore, and allows himself to fall further into the fog until his eyes are slowly slipping shut -
Anton snaps sharply back to reality when the wolf starts pulling, pulsing with anxiety, scratching at his mind and whining until Anton is forced to excuse himself from the conversation and have a look around the room. The wolf’s instincts are rarely wrong, and this time is no different, because Viago has been gone far longer than he should have been, and when Anton scans the room, doing a quick headcount, he realises Brett has left the room as well.
He didn’t notice Brett leaving, and he’s angry that he didn’t notice, feels a bit sick with it. Anton tries to act casual as he slips into the kitchen, but he nearly shatters the bottle in his hand at the scene he finds there.
Viago is backed against the kitchen counter, body pressing into it, trying to get as far away from Brett as possible. Brett, who is leaning in, crowding Viago’s space, bracketing the vampire in with an arm resting on the counter. He’s whispering something to Viago that Anton can’t hear, but he doesn’t really need to; Viago’s discomfort is clear, and when he sees Anton his face lights up, floods with relief.
“Anton!” The reverence in his name, the way Viago says it so easily, like Anton is someone to be admired, someone so deserving of love.
It just makes the anger bubbling under Anton’s skin all that much worse.
If Viago truly didn’t want him anymore, Anton would let him go. It would hurt, Anton imagines it would hurt more than being bitten by a werewolf, worse even than his first ever transition, but he would never force Viago to do something he didn’t want to do. He would never knowingly make Viago uncomfortable. But Brett is, he’s going after Anton’s mate, and he doesn’t know if it’s a territory thing to Brett, a game to prove that he’s the stronger alpha, but Anton is not going to play. Viago isn’t a prize, an object to be fought over, and the fact that Brett can’t even work that out, can’t even see how precious and beautiful Viago truly is, is making Anton feel half mad with rage.
Viago uses his full vampiric strength to push away from Brett and strides across the room, nuzzling into Anton’s side as though Anton had walked in on two old friends catching up and not - whatever the fuck it actually was. With his face buried in Anton’s neck, he whispers,
“Leave it for now, darling. I promise I am okay.”
The wolf is barely subdued by this but Anton manages to place his bottle down on the side, his fingers trembling so bad he has to physically ball them into fists. Brett smiles, but doesn’t speak, and maintains eye contact with Anton as he walks towards them, towards the door. His shoulder bumps into Anton’s as he passes, but when he’s out of the kitchen Anton swivels and slams the door shut hard enough to shudder the frame.
He’s on Viago in seconds, hands searching for damage, roaming over his slim waist and shoulders and over his pretty, but painfully unmarked, neck.
“What the fuck was that about, Viago, I swear to shit - ”
Anton knows he’s shaking all over, but it’s only when Viago takes both his hands into his and kisses each knuckle that Anton realises just how bad it is. His claws have slid from under his human nails, and his vision is turning a blurring red at the edges. He’s already started to transform, angry and overwhelmed and afraid because he wasn’t there and his mate needed him and no wonder Viago kept healing his claiming bite, because what kind of mate was he if he couldn’t even be there -
But then he looks up into Viago’s eyes, impossibly wide and filled with love, and Anton feels everything just - slow, calm. It isn’t fair to Viago to even imply that he has ever healed himself by choice; he adores Anton. He adores being mated with him. He’s proved that time and time again. He’s proving it now.
“Do you trust me, Anton?” Viago asks, and Anton doesn’t hesitate.
“With my life. You know that.”
Viago hums, a small smile turning the corner of his lips.
“So you trust that I would tell you if something was bad, yes?”
“I - Yeah, sure, mate. I trust you.” Anton’s brows furrow, but Viago doesn’t waver, doesn’t even seem mildly concerned by anything that’s happened this evening.
“Then I need you to also trust that I am able to protect myself. I love you, Anton, and I love that you want to protect me, but I am old , my love.”
There’s only one question which is buzzing through Anton’s mind, rattling his skull until it aches.
“I know you can protect yourself. Shit, you’ve protected us both enough times. So… Why didn’t you? Like, just break his fucking jaw or something.”
When Viago laughs, it’s light and whimsical and puts Anton immediately at complete ease. Even the wolf has settled, content to see their mate safe and happy.
“Because I will not jeopardise what you are trying to build over a - a child.”
Heat blazes through Anton then, and he pulls Viago into a crushing kiss, hands cupping his jaw, tongue swiping over his lips until Viago parts them with a pleased sigh. They keep kissing, and kissing, until Anton’s hands tug at Viago’s hair and Viago moans, shoving Anton backwards against the kitchen door. His thigh presses against Anton’s crotch and he pulls back with a gasp, head hitting the wood with a thud as Viago kisses lower, mouthing at his jaw and neck with teeth which scrape, but don’t quite nip.
And, fuck, Anton wants Viago to bite him so fucking bad he aches with it. He wants it maybe even more than he wants to bite Viago, to claim him all over again. But mostly he just wants both, wants physical proof that they belong together, to each other. That they’re a pair, and nobody can separate them. Not a man, or a vampire, or a wolf.
Anton knows he would always choose Viago, and the way Viago keeps kissing him makes him fairly certain that the feeling is mutual.
He tugs at Viago’s ridiculous frilled collar until their faces are at the same level, and then he rests their foreheads together. For a moment, they just breath, wrapped up in each other, the noise from the other room falling away and just leaving them. Nothing else matters. For a wild second, Anton doesn’t know if anything ever will again.
“I trust you, Vi.” Anton starts slowly, holding Viago’s gaze. “But you have to promise me something.”
“Anything.” Viago agrees easily.
“If anyone - if he tries anything, no matter how small, you deal with him properly. Or let me deal with him. Don’t let anyone fucking - touch you, Vi. A good relationship with another pack isn’t worth that. Fuck, nothing is worth that. Not to me.”
Viago’s eyes go glassy, filming over with tears which Anton prepares to wipe away, but Viago is quicker, biting a bruising kiss onto Anton’s lips.
“I promise.” He whispers, lips brushing Anton’s with every syllable. Then he straightens, readjusts his waistcoat and frills and presses one last, lingering kiss to Anton’s forehead. “I should be going, little wolf. The sun is rising earlier these days.”
There’s a sadness to Viago sometimes, something deep and old and far beyond Anton’s understanding. But the reality is, their relationship has limitations; this is the main one, really. Anton had started working nights, planning his life around the moon and the pack and Viago, but still they didn't get to see each other like a normal couple would. They don’t get to do the things that normal couples do. But Anton isn’t resentful, or envious, because he has Viago. There’s nothing he wants more than that. It’s a simple truth, but Anton isn’t convinced then that Viago understands.
“Please, stay tonight.” Anton’s voice is thick and cracks in the middle, and Viago frowns, face screwing up with indecision.
“Is that a good idea, Anton? With - everything. I would hate to cause an inconvenience.”
At that, Anton growls, circling an arm around Viago’s waist, holding as close as he can.
“Fuck that, mate. This is your home too, and I want you here. Besides, I don’t think either me or the wolf are gonna get much sleep if you’re not with us. If anything you’d be doing me a favour.”
Viago’s brows raise in slow delight, and he giggles in that way he does when he just physically hold back his joy; it’s one of Anton’s favourite things about him, a pretty impressive feat on a list which seems near unending.
“Well, when you put it like that…”
He takes Anton’s hand and leads him out into the hallway. The noise has quieted a bit, and it makes Anton feel better knowing they’re not leaving too early. Stu is heading back from the bathroom and catches them in the hallway.
“We’re heading to bed.” Anton falters before adding, “You’re in charge. You know where the guest rooms are.”
Stu smiles and nods but doesn’t say much. He never does, especially not during social events; Anton is grateful that he partakes at all, his quiet composure a reassuring buffer against the usual brawling chaos of the rest of the pack.
He knows he’s not being the best host, but he’s tired and agitated and it’s definitely better to be seen as rude by the other pack than for something else to happen and physically start a fight with them. It’s not ideal, and certainly not what Anton had planned, but Stu is definitely better to be in charge right now.
The bedroom door shuts with a sigh of relief, and Anton sags against it, Viago already pressing in close, nuzzling against Anton’s neck.
“Are you feeling sleepy, darling?”
“Fucking exhausted, actually.” Anton groans, but he definitely is rousing a bit now, with Viago in his bedroom, body close and pliant against Anton’s. With the full-moon and Vampiric Council and preparations for the visiting pack, they haven’t had much time to spend with just the two of them, and it hits Anton sharply how deeply he’s missed this, missed being with Viago.
He draws in a deep breath, inhaling Viago’s scent, sweet and spicy and delicious on the tongue, and starts to back Viago towards the bed.
“Actually, I take it back.” Anton grips Viago’s hips and pushes, forcing the vampire to bounce on the bed, staring up at Anton with rapt attention, mouth parted and so deliciously wet. “I’m feeling perfectly energised.”
Viago’s eyes have darkened, pupils blown out wide as he smirks, hands falling to Anton’s thighs, nails digging in sharply.
“Oh, is that so? Does my alpha need some exercise before bed?”
He’s teasing but it still makes Anton growl, and he brackets Viago in with his legs, leaning over him.
“I need to fuck you, Vi. I need to make you smell like me, make sure everyone knows your mine.”
“Shit, Anton, everyone will hear -” Viago’s voice stutters.
Anton interrupts. “Let them.”
That has Viago moaning, his head falling back against the soft pillows, and Anton takes full advantage of the view, leaving opened mouth kisses over Viago’s neck and jaw, as far down as he can reach, hands already pulling at Viago’s shirt, trying to force it to come loose.
“Be careful, mein Liebling. This shirt is almost two hundred years old.”
Viago’s long, deft fingers cover Anton’s and he separates the buttons quickly, letting the waistcoat and shirt sit open, exposing his chest and giving Anton more room to kiss; to love.
“Sorry, just - fucking need you.” He whines, resting his body fully along Viago’s. The hard line of the vampire's cock pushes through his trousers and Anton presses into it, rolling over it with his own clothed cock, just as hard.
Viago gasps some Germanic curse words which Anton isn’t even sure are still used anymore, and meets Anton’s thrusts happily.
“Do not apologise. You can have me, Anton. However and whenever you’d like.”
And shit, Anton is pretty impressed that he doesn’t totally embarrass himself by coming from Viago’s words alone, but the wolf inside is howling in delight, and the pleasure is building so rapidly despite the fact that he hasn’t even touched Viago’s cock yet, or been touched in return. It doesn’t matter, not when Viago is so pliant and willing under him, and Anton’s vision starts hazing out, brain focusing on Viago’s exposed chest, his neck, needing to leave marks there, needing to bite -
“Fuck, stop. Stop! Sorry, Viago - shitting fuck.”
There’s the sound of the air shifting around Anton, everything blurs, and then he’s facing Viago directly, both of them propped up on the mattress with Anton panting and Viago sitting perfectly still with quiet concern.
Everything is shaking, the wolf is clawing at the recess of Anton’s mind, creating this overwhelming pressure which just keeps expanding until Anton’s clutching the bed sheets so hard, just to keep his hands from Viago, that he hears a tear. His eyes are screwed shut and his jaw aches from how badly his canines are trying to extend, from how desperately he needs to bite, but still he sits, and waits, and hopes Viago isn’t going to be too mad at him for all this.
“Anton, love, please tell me what is going on… Can I help at all?” Viago asks gently but his voice is thick with worry and that’s what eventually forces Anton’s eyes to flutter open.
Weakly, he admits,
“I almost bit you.”
The anxiety clouding Viago’s expression is replaced with confusion. He raises his brows before drawing them down in a frown.
“Forgive me, Anton, but I am failing to see how that is a bad thing.”
Anton can’t help but laugh then, the pressure releasing just the slightest amount by how effortlessly good Viago makes him feel.
“I can’t bite you right now, Vi. Not with another alpha in my territory - especially not in my den.” Especially not one who wants to put his fucking hands on you, Anton can’t say, but he reckons Viago understands given the vampires single, tight nod.
“I am afraid I do not fully understand, but that is okay. I am happiest spending time with you, no matter what we are doing.”
Anton positively ignites inside, warmed all the way through by how deeply Viago loves him, and how easily he proves it.
He knows he doesn’t need to explain himself, but he does anyway, because he wants Viago to understand how bad Anton wants him. Because he deserves to understand that.
“If I claimed you now, love, I would become super possessive over you. You remember how it always goes, yeah? I spend a good two days glued to you as much as I can.”
“Yes, it is actually very pleasant.” Viago smiles, clearly deciding that Anton has calmed down enough because he touches him, finally, resting one hand over Anton’s.
Anton smiles back, cheeks pinker from Viago’s reassurance. “Well, if that happened now, around wolves I don’t know, wolves who could try and hurt you, could try and take you from me - shit, Vi. I might tear them apart for looking at you. Spend the whole day with you bent over that desk with my cock inside you, claiming you over and over. And I can’t afford to risk it yet, Viago. Not until the other pack is gone.”
The vampire’s eyes have gone glassy as he’s spoken, pupils expanding again at the mention of what could happen; what the wolf honestly wants to happen.
Viago swallows slowly, obviously, before speaking.
“I am still failing to see how that is at all bad, Anton.”
Anton barks out a rough laugh, pushing at Viago playfully until they’re wrestling on the bed. He ends up pinned under Viago, and realises with a jolt that they’re both still hard, and fuck does he want to do something about it.
But then Viago is pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, leaving enough distance between them so their hips can’t quite touch, and the heat starts to cool a little. The bone-deep want is still there, as it always is when Viago is around, but Anton feels a little bit more prepared to deal with it now, a little more in control.
When they part, Anton opens his eyes to find Viago already looking at him through his impossibly thick and pretty lashes.
“I do not have any bedclothes here, Anton. May I please borrow some of yours?”
Anton categorically knows that this is a lie. Viago has his own drawers, his own wardrobe space, and even if it were a problem, it wouldn’t be the first time one of them had slept naked. For a moment, Anton is confused, and he goes to ask what’s wrong with Viago’s usual night clothes when he realises what Viago is actually doing, and resists the urge to fucking weep.
He can’t bite Viago, can’t have Viago bite him. There’s no way for him to claim his mate until the other pack leave, besides something so obvious and base that Anton didn’t even consider it. How the fuck did he not consider it?
Viago is letting Anton scent him. Wearing his clothes and sleeping in his arms, the other wolves would smell Anton on him for days . The thought makes Anton feel a bit feral, his cock twitching with interest which he wills away. Gulping down a couple greedy, steadying breaths, Anton nods, sliding to the side and rolling off the bed. He pulls a grey cotton shirt from one drawer and a pair of boxers from another, offering them to Viago who takes them happily.
They undress in silence, facing away from each other. With each rustle of fabric, Viago’s scent gets stronger, more earthy, and Anton is desperate to look, to see the curve of his hip, the expanse of his chest, the soft, unmarred skin of his neck -
Anton forces himself not to look, no matter how hard the wolf protests, and by the time they slip under the blankets he’s sobered up, half-hard, and thoroughly miserable with it all. Seeing Viago in his clothes, the shirt too loose and boxers too tight, makes Anton feel better and infinitely worse at the same time.
Luckily for Anton, the exhaustion is setting back in, and he welcomes it, feeling Viago curling at his side with a content sigh. He’s pleased they’ve decided to keep a bit of Viago’s dirt tucked between the mattress and the headboard so they can have impromptu sleepovers. Anton also invested in blackout blinds, and has them constantly pinned into place, just to make Viago as comfortable as possible.
There isn’t really anything he wouldn’t do to make Viago comfortable, to see him happy.
And that’s the last coherent thought Anton has before he drifts off to sleep.