a moment of weakness ;
It’s not as though he’s intended for this, for them.
No, he never imagined being here, hands upon a human with need a festering heat in his veins. Teeth drag and press, scrapping with the desire to mark and bruise. Yet he knows the laws, he knows that in the end he could never truly sink his fangs in.
So he mouths the boy’s neck, crowding against him like he’s been starved for that shivering warm body. It would be so painfully easy to break those fragile bones, to devour him whole. Instead fingers slide, kissing bruises into pale flesh and smoothing fabric away from his hungering search for more, more, more.
“ — Fuck.”
The utterance is more akin to a growl as hips press forward, bucking into the rough friction of denim against denim. Wetly his mouth leaves the crook of Caleb’s throat, blue eyes gone dark, pupils blown wide. God how he admires the line of hickeys, the way they stand out, dark, possessive, his.
His hands grip tightly at the curve of the human’s ass.
How close the wolf is to devouring him whole.
“Caleb,” he starts, voice rough, scarcely above a shaking exhale, “I want to fuck you.”