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A/N: This is the mating story you've all been waiting for! It turned out much more angsty and character driven than I intended, so I broke it in two so you can skip right to the good stuff once Ch. 2's up (which hopefully it will be shortly). In the meantime, for those of you who want a little more plot, here you go.
They never really talked about mating. They knew that's where they were headed-they'd made that much clear in various conversations—but they hadn't discussed the when and the how. "Soon" they kept telling each other. Somehow, "soon" never came.
Steve wasn't sure what was holding them back. They'd had issues, major ones, but what had sustained them was the knowledge that they wanted this, wanted to bind themselves to each other forever. That was their guiding beacon, and they would do anything to achieve that.
Except, apparently, actually consummate it. Every time they made love, Steve felt Danny's blood calling to him, was hyperaware of the throb of Danny's pulse reverberating deep in Steve's soul, could practically taste Danny's blood coursing down his throat, hot and thick and sweet. Every time, Steve's fangs would press into the smooth skin of Danny's neck, denting it, coming oh-so-close to piercing it, then retracting at the last second to suck a mark instead.
Likewise, Danny would lick and suck at the juncture of Steve's neck and shoulder, fangs scraping the skin, nipping, biting, but never breaking the skin. Every time, Steve prayed they would, prayed Danny would cross that line and sink his teeth in, claiming Steve as his mate for the rest of their lives, but Danny never did.
Steve now knew how Danny had felt with his ex-wife when there was always something—marriage, job, finances, whatever—keeping them from mating, but Steve didn't even know what this "something" was. Was it that he was a vampire and Danny was a werewolf? That their union was all but forbidden in the eyes of both their races? Steve thought they were beyond that. Danny had even stood up to his ex-wife, fighting for his right to see his child without giving up Steve. Was it that they would be bound not only physically, but by law in the eyes of Danny's pack? Danny certainly didn't hide their intent. He displayed the permanent hickey Steve had left with pride, explaining to everyone who asked exactly what it meant—the "passion purpura" as Danny called it, insisting that was the term for a pre-bonding mark and not just the medical term for a hickey. Steve had no one who would dare ask, but if he did, he would proclaim to them with confidence that Danny was the one he'd chosen forever, werewolf or not. Was that it? Was it the thought of "forever" that was holding them back? Werewolves mated for life, and the vampire bond would tie them as long as they lived, extending Danny's already long life practically indefinitely. Steve had to admit forever was a long time when you were immortal, and the thought could be pretty terrifying whether you were alone or with someone, but Steve couldn't think of anyone he'd rather spend it with.
Whatever it was, it kept them on edge, drawing them to the brink night after night as they rode the waves of their passion, immersing themselves in each other until they were practically drowning in the sensations, but never taking that last step.
Until one night.
Danny's latest case had hit him hard. A young werewolf had gotten too deep into drug dealing and wanted out. His supplier was unsympathetic, to say the least, and shot the man's girlfriend in cold blood to bring him back in line—the girlfriend the wolf was planning to mate with "as soon as they were old enough".
Danny didn't say anything to Steve about it, just came home silent and withdrawn, refusing Steve's attempts to draw him out and steadfastly not talking about it; Steve had to call Chin to get the story. Steve left Danny alone after that, assuming he was thinking about Rachel and all the times she'd stalled him.
Steve was wrong. They were watching a movie, or at least pretending to—Danny was hunched in a corner of the couch brooding, and Steve was keeping more of an eye on his lover than on the movie—when Danny seemed to come to some sort of decision.
"I want you to bite me," he said, seemingly out of nowhere.
That was what Steve had been waiting for. Desire flared hot within him, and it was all he could do not to launch himself at Danny and latch onto his neck, finally drinking that sweet nectar the vampire been dreaming about for months. It took all his self-control to hold himself back, and this time, he knew why.
"Danny, you don't know what you're asking."
"Yes, I do," Danny insisted. He leaned into Steve's space, baring his neck. "Go on, you know you want to."
Oh, how Steve did. He could see Danny's pulse throbbing, could feel it deep in his bones, beckoning him. But he couldn't do that to Danny, not while Danny was in this state. The werewolf wasn't thinking rationally; he'd regret it as soon as he came to his senses.
Steve pulled away from Danny, scooting into the corner of the couch, putting as much distance between them as possible. Danny followed, neck still exposed. Steve put a hand on Danny's chest, holding him at bay. "Stop, Danny. We need to talk about this."
Danny shoved Steve's hand away, crowding the vampire, getting so close Steve could feel the other man's hot breath ghosting across his lips. "I'm done talking," Danny growled. "Do it. Now."
Steve's control was quickly unraveling, his lust clouding his mind, his attention zeroing in on Danny's throat so he could hardly think of anything else. Steve took a deep breath he didn't need, gathering the remnants of his self-control. "Danny, not now. Not while you're like this."
Danny pulled back, clearly frustrated. "Then when, Steve? How long are we going to wait? I want you, want to make you mine, have practically since we met. You have, too, I know you have. I don't want to wait too long. Our jobs are dangerous, Steve. Any day, I could get shot with silver bullets by some perp who knows what I am, or one of the guys you're tailing could turn on you and drive a stake through your heart. I don't want to die and know we'll never mate because we put off that last step."
Steve searched Danny's face. A myriad of emotions danced in his bright blue eyes: desperation, desire, determination, but, above all, truth. Maybe Danny had given this more thought than Steve gave him credit for.
That was all it took.