Work Text:
~ * ~
There wasn’t a specific thing Nick could point to, but there was definitely a shift–even more so than his sudden ability to see the creatures.
“You look like your pizza owes you money,” Hank commented through a mouthful of his own slice.
Distractedly, Nick continued to stare at the box. Why did it feel like he was missing something right in front of his nose?
Maybe he should ask Monroe about it.
“Earth to Nick,” Hank said, grabbing another slice. “Come in, Nick.”
“What?” Nick finally picked up his pizza and bit it.
“There you are, thought you were a million miles away.”
“Yeah, just thinking.”
“Do I wanna know?”
Nick shook his head. How could he explain how he saw creatures everywhere now and he was going to ask the Big, Bad Wolf about it? Hank would call him crazy.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” Nick set down his pizza, appetite gone.
Hank’s face creased in concern, but Nick couldn’t worry about that. He needed to figure out why all the creatures recognized him and why, of all of them, Monroe wasn’t afraid of him.
Nick frowned down at his desk blotter, tracing the lines with his eyes while he tried to focus on cop things.
A scuffle drew his attention up, and both he and Hank hurried to where Wu and two other officers were wrestling a man in handcuffs into the precinct.
The man changed in front of Nick’s eyes: scales grew over his face, his tongue forked and flicked out, his eyes became yellow with slits of black for pupils.
He wriggled in the grasp of the officers until he locked eyes with Nick.
“Grimm,” he breathed before redoubling his efforts to escape. Nick backed away as he broke free even though he was still handcuffed. “I’m going to kill you, Grimm.”
“That’s a felony,” Wu said as he pulled out his taser and shot the man, who went down easily enough.
“What did he call you?” Hank asked, hand on Nick’s shoulder as Wu and the officers carried the man down to Holding. “Grimm? What did he mean by that?”
“I don’t know,” Nick lied. “He must have confused me with someone else.”
“Must have.” Hank gave Nick a gentle squeeze and then sighed. “Guess we’d better get started on the paperwork.”
“Yeah. The paperwork.”
Distractedly, Nick sat down and began writing out what had happened to the best of his ability. He did not document the reptilian face or how the man had recognized him as a Grimm.
After his shift, Nick made a detour to the Airstream to research the other thing the man was. He had no luck and, frustrated, he decided he needed to pay a visit to Monroe.
~ * ~
Monroe was in the middle of ruminating on his newly minted acquaintance of Nick Burkhardt.
Nick was cute, almost like an adorable puppy that needed guidance and training. He was also cute in the way that Monroe appreciated with his eyes.
He shook his head, unsure why he felt the urge to keep helping Nick. Grimms were bad news. Bad for business, bad for life. But, Nick was a pup, wet behind the ears, just learning to walk. A welp of a Grimm.
And for whatever reason, that helplessness activated a long-dormant sense of something intangible in Monroe.
He’d get over it. Nick would get better at being a Grimm and wouldn’t come knocking on Monroe’s door at all hours of the day. And Monroe, bless him, would miss it, like a parent misses their child when they move out.
As if on cue, Nick knocked.
“Monroe?” he called. “Can I ask you something?”
Monroe sighed and opened his door. “Hi, Nick. Come on in.” He stepped back to let Nick pass him, taking a careful sniff of his aftershave.
Immediately, Nick began pacing as Monroe shut the door. He looked agitated, angry, and a bit scared.
“So, something happened at work today,” he said. “I saw someone change in front of everyone.”
“You witnessed his woge,” Monroe said, patience flowing from his core. He and Nick had been over the basics, but that was weeks ago when Nick was still trying to find the missing girl. Nick was allowed a few missteps.
“He woged and then said he was going to kill me.”
Monroe’s heart seized. “What?” he managed to stutter.
“He called me Grimm. How did he know what I am?”
Nick was so new to being a Grimm that he didn’t even know his eyes turned black when he witnessed a woge.
Monroe rolled his eyes. Nick was going to get himself killed at this rate.
Even the Eisbibers could revolt against him.
“Can you describe him?”
“Scaly, yellow eyes, forked tongue.”
“Hmm, probably a Skalengeck?”
“What’s a Skalengeck?”
“Apparently a Wesen that wants to kill you.”
“Har har. Do I have anything to worry about?”
“Probably not,” Monroe said. Nick seemed to relax minutely. Monroe shook his head again. “Need a beer?”
Nick shrugged. “I don’t know. Something feels wrong–like there’s a pressure behind my eyes and–” he shrugged again, the gesture helpless.
Monroe clapped him on the shoulder, not missing the way Nick jumped almost imperceptibly at the contact. “Come on. Sit down. Have a brew with me. Things will get better.”
“How do you know?” Nick flopped onto the couch while Monroe retrieved two beers from his fridge. “Do you feel the same pressure?”
“No, but I imagine it’s because you’re learning a lot all at once. You’re bound to have a headache or two that isn’t from a concussion.”
Nick accepted the bottle Monroe handed him. He sighed heavily. “I just wish I knew what’s wrong with me so I can fix it.”
Monroe didn’t answer, just popping the top off his bottle and taking a long draw. He watched from the corner of his eye as Nick did the same, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. Something warm curled low in Monroe’s belly.
Nick shuddered suddenly. He set the beer on a coaster on the coffee table. He was learning, good. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to impose and take up your night.”
“You’re not imposing,” Monroe said and meant it. He had started looking forward to Nick’s visits with a kind of fascination that usually was reserved for clocks.
He reached out and laid his hand on the back of Nick’s neck. He was warm under his hand. Monroe squeezed gently. “You feeling any better?”
Nick shook his head, but he turned, allowing Monroe better access to his neck and shoulders. “I’ll be fine,” he said, leaning into Monroe’s touch.
They sat like that for a few minutes before Nick grabbed his beer again and finished it. “I should really get going,” he said.
Stay sat on Monroe’s lips, but he swallowed it down and nodded. “See you soon?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Nick stood up, weariness settling over him like a jacket. “See you.”
As soon as he was gone, in his car and driving, Monroe cleared away the bottles and moved the coffee table so he could lay down his mat.
A few good stretches before bed ought to relax him.
Moments later, in the middle of his stretches, he sat up, struck by a single thought.
Mates .
He and Nick were mates. That’s why they were feeling so unsettled, why Nick had the makings of a headache and Monroe was growing fond of the Grimm.
Monroe groaned, covering his eyes and shaking his head.
How was he supposed to court a Grimm? Much less a Grimm that was essentially a baby and needed protection from all the Wesen-folk?
Of course, Nick was a cop, but that hardly meant anything in the world of claws, teeth, and talons. Not every Wesen would try to kill the baby Grimm, but a lot of them would. Did Monroe really want to take on that responsibility?
There was no question at all.
He would do anything to protect his mate. Even a Grimm.
What a failure he was as a Blutbad. Good thing he was a reformed Blutbad.
Monroe started stretching again. He would tell Nick in the morning about what they were. He could only hope Nick wouldn’t be mad at him for it.
~ * ~
Nick slept poorly, tossing and turning all night. He couldn’t keep his eyes closed long enough to drift off until about five minutes before his alarm went off.
He dragged himself into the shower and took a cold shower. He dressed and headed downstairs to grab a cup of instant coffee and a stale Poptart.
Within twenty minutes, he was at work, sitting at his desk, yawning so widely, his jaw kept cracking.
“You look like crap,” Hank observed, dropping into his seat.
“I feel like it too,” Nick admitted. He stifled another yawn. “More coffee.”
“Get me a cup too,” Hank called as Nick shuffled his way to the break room.
Nick obediently poured two cups of coffee and doctored Hank’s to his liking.
He carefully carried them back to their desks. So occupied was he with his task that he completely missed the Skalengeck from yesterday standing at the release desk.
One moment he was handing Hank his coffee, the next he was sprawled on the floor, someone pummeling his back over and over again.
“Get off him!” Hank yelled.
“Get off him or you’ll be tased!” Wu added.
Nick struggled to roll over, trying to buck the Skalengeck off his back. Instead, he received a vicious blow to the side of his head. Dazed, Nick flopped forward.
The Skalengeck convulsed as Wu shot him with the taser.
One of the prongs struck Nick in the side, and he writhed with a lesser shock than the man on his back.
Wu, Hank, and a handful of officers managed to pull the Skalengeck off Nick and frog-marched him back to holding.
A few minutes later, Hank returned. Nick was still on the floor, breathing heavily as he assessed his injuries. He was bruised for sure but he’d live. He let Hank pull him up.
“Sorry about the coffee.”
Hank laughed, more of an incredulous snort than true mirth. “I think I can forgive you,” he said. “After all, that’s the second time that man has attacked you. What’d you do to him?”
“Nothing! Maybe I just look like someone he hates.”
“You wanna get checked out?”
Nick shook his head. Hospitals were for really bad injuries, not some creature trying to punch him black and blue. “I’ll be fine.”
“That was a serious knock you took to the head,” Hank said, fingers hovering over where the Skalengeck’s fist had connected with Nick’s head.
“Nothing worse than anything I’ve already had.”
Hank’s concern didn’t abate, and Nick worried on the edge of it, wondering if he was destined to be jumped by every Wesen he encountered.
“I need some air,” Nick told Hank.
“Want company?”
“Pretty sure I don’t.” Nick grabbed his jacket and slipped out of the precinct into the parking garage. He made his way up to the roof and then just sat on the ground, pavement warm beneath his legs, breathing deeply.
Monroe was starting to teach him pilates, and so far, Nick liked the breathing techniques the best. He breathed in deeply through his nose, held for a count of five and then released his breath.
The worry and anxiety that kept clawing at the back of his mind smoothed out, leaving him drained but calm.
He stood up, unsure how long he’d sat there only to turn around and have a fist slam into his gut.
Nick dropped to his knees, gasping.
A man towered above him, his face flickering between animal and human.
“Grimm,” he said, like Nick needed to hear it. Then the man reared back and kicked Nick in the chest.
Pain exploded as his ribs creaked in protest while he was sent sprawling over the pavement.
Before he had time to recover, the man was on him, pummeling him for all he was worth. Nick curled into a ball, trying to protect his head and belly.
A hissing, clicking sound heralded the man being body-checked off Nick. It was obvious that a Wesen had come to his defense, but Nick, barely conscious and losing the fight, couldn’t see who it was. All he knew was that he was going to be in so much trouble with Hank for getting beat up even more.
~ * ~
Monroe settled into his chair, beetroot sausage artfully arranged on his plate. He lifted his wine glass and swirled the liquid inside. It wasn’t often that he indulged in the reds and whites, but tonight was special. He had closed a large contract with the city to maintain their clock tower.
He cut a slice of faux-sausage and savored his first bite. Soon enough though, the food turned to dust in his mouth as he thought of Nick and how he still had to tell him that they were mates.
He hadn’t heard from Nick yet today, and he tried not to feel resentful of the fact.
He knew Nick was busy. He was a detective after all. But, still, Monroe sighed. He carried his plate into the kitchen and swept the food into a Tupperware container. Then he drained his wine down the sink.
Out of nowhere, he stumbled, sharp pain flaring in his chest and then abating. The pain came again and vanished just as quickly.
Something was wrong. Not with Monroe.
No, he was certain Nick was in pain.
He’d heard about the bond between mates where one could feel the other almost telepathically.
He decided he needed to find Nick. He needed to know that he was okay despite the pain he felt swelling and receding in his chest.
Monroe followed logic and started his search at the precinct. He stepped into a room of organized chaos. Nick was sitting on a gurney, an EMT wrapping his chest with a bandage. From behind the EMT, Monroe woged, only this time he didn’t feel in control of the change. Instead, he had little control. Nick’s eyes widened as he stared at Monroe, eyes black as night.
When he whimpered at the tightening of the bandage, it was all Monroe could do to stop himself from ripping the EMT away from his mate.
Only the fear, thick and pungent, and all Nick’s, broke his woge.
His mate was afraid of him.
Monroe hung his head in shame. He had never meant to make Nick feel unsafe around him.
“Go home,” Renard said suddenly. “Take the rest of the week off. If I even catch wind of you working, you’re going straight to the hospital.”
“Yes, sir,” Nick said. He slid down from the gurney and pulled his shirt back on. His body was decorated in bruises, deep purple and yellow around the edges. Monroe’s rage swelled in his chest again, and he knuckled at it, willing it down.
Nick walked right by Monroe without even glancing at him, and that stung worse than the phantom pain he’d felt earlier.
Nick was already driving away when Monroe climbed into his Bug and started the engine.
Rejection hurt. Having his mate be scared of him hurt.
Monroe was just making a mess of things. He always seemed to fuck things up spectacularly. Being a Wieder Wesen meant that he had disappointed his parents, turned his back on his nature, and become an anomaly.
Having a Grimm for a mate might as well have been par for the course.
Scaring that Grimm was more than he could take.
Monroe stopped at a red light. He gripped his steering wheel so hard it began to creak. Dammit, there had to be a way to fix things between Nick and himself. He couldn’t have screwed up too badly just because he was having a little trouble with his control.
Communication, he thought suddenly. Talking. All he had to do was tell Nick that they were mates and that Monroe would never do anything to hurt him on purpose.
He made a u-turn at the light and sped toward Nick’s apartment.
~ * ~
Nick climbed out of his Land Cruiser and started up the walk. He was beyond exhausted, aching down to his bones. All he wanted was a hot shower and maybe something to eat.
He stopped when a figure stepped out from the shadows by the entrance to his apartment. Nick stared at the man blankly.
“I heard there’s a price on your head, Grimm.” The man grinned, face woging into a Schakal, which Nick recognized only because of his aunt’s books. Schakal were jackals, as far as Nick understood, with canine features and good reflexes.
For a moment, time froze, Nick staring at the Schakal, the Schakal staring at him, and then the Schakal leapt forward, claws raking the air in front of Nick’s face. He stumbled back, avoiding the strike barely.
Before he could recover his footing, a punch landed squarely on Nick’s bruised ribs, and he rolled away, curling around the injury as best as he could while still protecting his head. The Schakal slammed his hand down on Nick’s back, claws dragging through his jacket and shirt, tearing through the flesh underneath as if nothing could stop him from reaching all the way through Nick’s body.
Nick yelled, twisting away from the pain, inadvertently opening himself to an attack on his belly. Before the Schakal made contact, a blur barreled into him, sending him sprawling off Nick. The Schakal recovered quickly, leaping toward Nick again, and again the blur knocked him away.
“Leave now or die,” someone said. Monroe, Nick thought almost deliriously.
“You defend the Grimm?”
“Leave now or die.”
That was definitely Monroe, but something was wrong with his voice. It was low, growling, affected worse than his usual woge. It was like he was hanging onto his control with a thinning thread. Nick struggled upright, whimpering as both his ribs and his back protested the movement. He’d been afraid that Monroe would have attacked the EMT. Now he was glad for Monroe’s presence.
“He’s killed your kind before, traitor,” the Schakal spat. “Stand aside or suffer the consequences of harboring the enemy.”
“Not an enemy of mine,” Monroe snarled. “But you are.”
The Schakal ducked under Monroe’s arms and headed right for Nick. Before he reached him, Monroe grabbed him by the back of his shirt and tossed him backward.
“Stay behind me, Nick,” Monroe ordered him, and Nick nodded, stumbling left and right as Monroe blocked every attempt the Schakal made to go around him again.
Finally, the Schakal leapt forward, only to meet Monroe’s claws in his neck.
Blood, dark and wet flowed freely as the Schakal fell to the ground and was still.
Nick wavered on his feet. His back was shredded, singing with pain while his ribs protested every breath he took.
A step toward Monroe, another unsteady step, and then the ground came up to meet him. He’d fallen down. He held still while his body screamed in pain.
Monroe checked on the Schakal and then turned to Nick.
Nick felt it when Monroe lifted him, the pain in his back shrieking with a vengeance. He let out a low moan and fainted.
~ * ~
Nick wasn’t heavy to carry bridal style, Monroe thought. The blood from the dispatched Schakal stained his hands while Nick’s blood soaked into his shirt.
He should tend to the wounds, but he didn’t know if the Schakal was acting alone. He would rather put as much distance between the corpse and themselves than wait and see if there were others who wanted to kill his mate.
He still didn’t understand how a Blutbad and a Grimm could be mates.
He also didn’t know if things would work out, but he was willing to give it a try if Nick was. But for that conversation, Nick needed to be conscious and coherent.
Nick whimpered, coming to a bit as Monroe carried him toward his house and safety. He mumbled something that sounded like delirious-speak and sank into Monroe’s arms, already unconscious again.
Monroe bundled him into the backseat of his Bug and started driving.
By the time they reached Monroe’s house, Nick was awake but his eyes were bleary and he wasn’t saying anything Monroe could understand.
“I’m calling Hank,” Monroe told him, grabbing Nick’s phone and searching for Hank’s number.
“Hey, Nick,” Hank answered on the second ring.
“Uh, hi, this is Monroe. I really need you to come get Nick and take him to the hospital.”
“Did something else happen?”
“Yeah, he was attacked. I think he was stabbed. His back’s all cut up.”
“Call an ambulance and put pressure on the wounds. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Hank hung up, leaving Monroe alone with his unconscious mate and Hank’s orders.
“Nick, hey, Nick. I’m going to call an ambulance for you. You need to go to the hospital.”
Nick swiveled his head, turning his glassy stare onto Monroe. “I’m hurt,” he said plaintively, reaching out for Monroe.
Monroe’s gut twisted. He patted at Nick’s hands before helping him lie on his stomach. Monroe ran inside to grab a clean towel and his own phone.
He pressed the towel to Nick’s back, wincing in sympathy as Nick groaned and struggled weakly.
Hank arrived before the ambulance. His presence made Monroe’s woge come to the surface, and he tucked his head down to hide his blazing red eyes. Hank wasn’t a threat to Nick, but Monroe’s instincts couldn’t tell the difference right now.
“What kind of knife does that kind of damage?” Hank asked, staring down at Nick’s back.
Claws , Monroe almost said, but he bit his tongue. “I don’t know. All I know is when I got to Nick’s apartment, he was being attacked.”
Hank gave Monroe an unreadable look. “He was attacked at his apartment?” he asked, tone low. Dangerous.
“Yeah. I got him away from there. I don’t know if his attacker is still there.” Liar , his brain chants. Lying liar who lies .
Hank stepped back, pulling out his phone. “Captain? Nick was attacked at his apartment. Yeah, he was moved.” He paused, listening. “Yes, I’ll ride with him. Monroe was the one who found him.” Another pause. “Yes, sir. Thank you, Captain.”
Hank pocketed his phone again, just as the ambulance finally arrived.
Monroe forced himself to step back so that the EMTs had full access to assess and triage Nick. Hank watched Monroe with a careful eye.
Once Nick was loaded into the ambulance, still face down so his back could be tended to, Hank moved first and climbed in with him. He shot Monroe one last, long look, and then the doors shut.
As the ambulance pulled away, Monroe tipped his head back and howled. He knew deep down that the hospital was the right place for Nick, but having his mate injured and carted away left him unmoored, floundering for equilibrium.
Nothing would be right until his mate was returned to him.
~ * ~
Nick woke up after a few hours, aware of nothing except that Monroe was not near him. It made something in Nick’s chest ache. He tried to reach up and soothe the pain but found he could not move his arms.
He was lying on his side, hospital gown on, blanket pulled to his waist. There was a breeze on his back, but he barely felt it through the bandages wrapped around him.
“Mr. Burkhardt,” a woman said, leaning over him. “Mr. Burkhardt, how are you feeling?”
Nick opened his mouth to respond and yawned instead. “Tired,” he finally decided.
“No pain?”
“Nope.” From her tone, he expected that he was supposed to be. “I feel floaty,” he said.
She smiled down at him. “That would be the morphine. We had to stitch you up. Do you remember anything that happened?”
Nick thought back to the Schakal and Monroe interrupting the fight. “No,” he said. “Not really.”
“Well, as soon as you are up for it, your Captain would like to speak with you.”
Nick blinked slowly. He was more than floaty now. He was actively drifting. “Can Monroe visit too?” he asked, but he was asleep before she answered him.
~ * ~
Monroe sat at home for the whole week it took before Nick was released from the hospital and back on light duty at the precinct. The pain of not being with his mate was dulled only by Nick’s pain as his back healed.
Eventually, both were just a dull ache that sometimes flared as he was in the middle of getting on with his life.
He had been questioned about the dead man at Nick’s apartment, but because he’d been in his woge at the time, they didn’t have his human DNA and couldn’t pin anything on him. Not that they tried very hard. In fact, Nick’s Captain seemed almost grateful that Monroe had protected Nick.
They shared a knowing, Wesen look behind Hank’s back and continued on with their days.
Now, Monroe was just waiting for Nick to feel the same pull he did.
~ * ~
Two weeks after Nick was released from the hospital, he knocked on Monroe’s door.
“I brought beer.” Nick hefted the six pack of specialty beers he’d paid too much for. Monroe nodded appraisingly and stepped back, allowing Nick to brush past him.
“Where do you want me?” Nick asked.
Monroe coughed. “What?”
Nick shrugged. “Where do you want me to put the beer? By the couch or in the kitchen?”
“Fridge.”
Nick put the beer in the fridge and then joined Monroe on the couch.
“Hey, thanks for, you know, saving me again.”
“Oh, that, that was nothing.”
“It was everything. I haven’t been attacked since then, and I think I have you to thank for that.”
“I don’t know that I did anything other than kill a Schakal for you.”
“It was either him or me, and I hope you know that I really appreciate what you did for me.”
“Yeah, well, when your mate is in danger, you kind of do what you have to.” Monroe slammed his mouth shut, like he’d said too much.
Nick stared at him. Mates? Like, what, really good friends? “I don’t know what that means,” he said after the silence stretched long and uncomfortable.
“Mates,” Monroe said, looking like he’d rather choke on the word than say it. “We’re mates. At least, I think we are.” He sighed, dropping his head to his hands. “Look, I’ve been feeling things that you have too. Like, your pain.”
“Pain?” Nick thought back to the constant anxiety and worry he had felt for almost three weeks now. “Does it go both ways? Like, if you were in pain, would I be able to feel it?”
“Probably.” Monroe shrugged. “I suppose it depends on how accepting of the mate-bond you are.”
“Are you worried that I’d reject it?” Nick asked.
“The mate-bond? Maybe.”
Nick shook his head. “Definitely. You’re anxious and worried, and I can feel it.” Monroe didn’t say anything, and Nick let the silence stretch.
Finally, Nick turned to face Monroe, but Monroe stubbornly kept his head down. “So, how exactly does a Blutbad woo his mate?”
Monroe’s head shot up. “Woo?”
“Yeah, like humans go on dates and share gifts and memories.”
“Well, traditionally, Blutbaden would hunt and share food.”
“But?”
“But, I’m a reformed Blutbad, so I guess, I’d go with the human thing.”
“Dating and memories?”
“Among other things.”
“Like what?”
“Like this.” Monroe stood up and pulled Nick to his feet. Then he hooked one arm behind Nick’s shoulders and the other under his knees, lifting him easily into a bridal carry.
“Sex?” Nick guessed.
“Making love,” Monroe responded.
Nick would protest being carried but he didn’t feel emasculated by Monroe’s obvious care to gently set him on the bed. He felt loved and cherished.
“Arms up,” Monroe ordered. Nick obeyed,and Monroe tugged his shirt up and over his head. “Your bruises look better. How’s your back?”
Nick laid back, letting Monroe open his fly and tug his jeans and boxers down and off. “It’s good,” he said.
“Really?” Monroe stepped back and disrobed quickly. He grabbed lube and a condom from the bedside table. “How do you want to do this?”
Nick reached for the lube and spread some on his fingers before reaching for his hole. He circled slowly it, letting his body heat warm the lube before he dipped one fingertip in.
“Like this,” he said, breathless as he quickly worked up to two fingers. Monroe leaned in and used some of the excess lube to wet his finger.
“May I?” he asked, and Nick nodded. He threw his head back, arching his back as Monroe breached him, adding to the pressure already building.
“’s good,” he slurred.
“Ready?”
Monroe pulled out, removing Nick’s fingers as well. Then, he rolled the condom onto his cock, slicking it with more lube, and pressed in.
Something intangible settled in Nick’s chest as Monroe bottomed out. It’d been forever since he’d had sex as the receiving partner, but Monroe was gentle, rocking slightly, dragging the tip of his cock over Nick’s prostate with uncanny accuracy.
“Ready?” Monroe asked, and Nick nodded. Monroe hefted his legs up, settling them around his waist. It made him sink in deeper, and Nick shuddered at the sensation.
With the leverage now provided, Monroe sped up until he was actively thrusting in and out of Nick.
“Is there anything we need to do to solidify the mating bond?”
“Well, for Blutbaden, we knot and bite our mates.”
Nick’s eyes widened. “Knot?” he gasped.
“I won’t if you don’t want me to. We kind of have to be unsafe to do it.”
“Unsafe how?”
“Like, no condoms.”
“Oh.” Nick thought about it. If Monroe felt this good with the condom, what would he feel like without it? “We can try,” he said, unsure if he was asking.
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure? My knot can get pretty big.”
Nick slid back on the bed, ignoring the way his back still ached from the mostly-healed slashes. He sat up and took the condom off Monroe. “I’m sure,” he said. “Where would you bite me?” Monroe traced a spot on Nick’s shoulder. “Okay. That’s good too.”
Nick was less sure about the biting, but he knew it would be worth it to have the mate-bond solidified.
Monroe reached for the lube again. “I’m going to make sure you’re properly prepared, okay?” He poured more lube onto his hand and then worked two and then three fingers into Nick. “One more, and then I think you should be good.”
Almost frantically, Nick nodded. He planted his feet and lifted his ass, giving Monroe unfettered access. He was rewarded with a fourth finger. Monroe scissored his fingers, stretching as gently but effectively as he could. Warmth, love, he realized, burst inside him and he jerked in Monroe’s grasp.
“Now, ready now,” he panted, patting at Monroe’s hand.
The low laugh Monroe gave when straight to his groin, and Nick felt himself rising.
“Yes, I think you’re ready now.”
He pulled his fingers free, and before Nick could miss him, he was pressing in, smooth skin sliding in, in, in. Nick spread his legs and Monroe settled more firmly inside him.
“It’s not too late to stop,” Monroe said, “but it will be when I really get going.”
To answer, Nick wrapped his legs around Monroe’s waist and shifted until they were joined groin to ass. “No stopping,” he said.
Monroe began thrusting, gentle at first, then picking up speed until the bed was rocking and he was pounding into Nick.
Nick surged forward, deepening the angle and smashing his lips onto Monroe’s.
Monroe kissed like he fucked, harsh, stimulating, and so, so right. Nick groaned as he pulled back to breathe. He kept his hands looped around Monroe’s neck, holding on as he was pounded into the mattress.
“Ready,” Monroe said, snapping his hips brutally hard a few more times before stilling as the pressure increased at Nick’s rim.
“Oh, oh,” Nick panted, just feeling as Monroe’s knot swelled big, bigger.
Monroe circled his hips, working the knot around, stretching the rim and rocking back into Nick.
“Ready,” Monroe said again, leaning down, the tip of his cock pressing against Nick’s prostate. He kissed Nick’s mouth before trailing lower until his teeth were set against Nick’s clavicle.
Nick nodded, and Monroe bit down, breaking the skin. Nick threw his head back and howled as he came. He shuddered as Monroe kept his teeth locked onto his shoulder, working his hips so that his knot and cock prolonged Nick’s orgasm.
Finally, when he was almost too sensitive, Monroe roared, mouth still pressed to Nick’s shoulder, and he started moving again, ejaculating as he kept fucking Nick.
“Mine,” he growled, tongue lapping at the bloody bite.
“Yours,” Nick agreed easily.
They both fell silent as Monroe dozed against Nick and Nick just laid there, feeling full and content. Within half an hour, Monroe’s knot began deflating, and he tentatively pulled free.
Nick groaned, letting his legs fall down and open as Monroe sat up.
“So,” Monroe said.
“So,” Nick parroted back, receiving a fond smile in return.
“That happened.”
“And it was good.”
“Yeah it was.”
Nick couldn’t feel the anxiety and worry anymore. Instead, all he felt was Monroe’s love. He hoped Monroe could feel his.
“I love you,” Nick said, surprised when it didn’t feel too soon to say it.
“I love you too,” Monroe said. He helped Nick sit up, wincing when Nick winced as his ass, sore but still feeling good, scooted across the bedspread.
Nick put both hands on Monroe’s face and pulled him into a soft kiss.
“I think I really like being your mate,” he said. “It means I get to spend more time with you.”
“Same.”
“And the sex is really good too.”
“There is that.”
“Am I going to be wooed in the Blutbad way still?”
“Not unless you want to wake up to a dead deer on your doorstep,” Monroe threatened.
Nick smiled. “I think I’ll take whatever you want to give me.”
“I’d give you the world, I think,” Monroe said, a little awed.
Nick kissed him again. “I’d do the same.”
~ The End ~