Meet You In The Middle

by LilyAurora

"He imprinted." Sam explains. Shell shocked. "On a kid?" Jared looks to where Emily is carrying the small child from the beach. A fucking kid. He shakes his head, walking towards his best friend. "How is that even possible?"

**Here is another prompt from the amazing and talented Astrid, if you haven't read her work, then why the hell not? You best get your asses over to her page right now... u/2867403/astridt244 ... lol**

WARNINGS! Go forth with caution! I repeat! Go forth with caution! WARNINGS!

The Prompt:

Paul and Quil. Scene: Quil's imprint forces Paul to face his feelings for Quil... location: Quil's house, after the imprint, with Quil upset, tears in his eyes over a child imprint.

o-o-o-o-o

Meet You In The Middle

By LilyAurora

o-o-o-o-o

"For the thirst to possess your Love, Is worth my blood a hundred times..." - Rumi

o-o-o-o-o

His hands tremble as he pulls at the cap on the bottle, twisting and shaking it as the little pills inside rattling, teasingly so. It refuses to open, regardless of how hard he slams it against the counter, it remains sealed.

"Fuck!" He shouts, biting at the plastic. Gnawing at it with his teeth, before finally giving up, throwing it aside in anger. He slides to the floor, knees tucked up against his chest as he sobs. Nails biting into the flesh of his thighs as his mind drifts back over the past hour.

To the moment that changed his life.

Ruined it.

A child.

Why had he imprinted on a fucking child?

He hiccups through his sobs, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. Vision blurred. His mind stuck on that awful moment, repeating to the point of torture. The way he had barely paid attention to the small child, his imprint. Claire.

Claire.

A two-year old child. A fucking god damn baby.

Why had the gods matched them together? Why? Is there something wrong with him? Is there some deep, dark sickness he doesn't know about?

He digs his fingers into his scalp, pulling at the short hair there. An imprint is a gift. Your soul mate. Your perfect match.

He lurches forward, throwing himself towards the toilet, barely making it before he empties his stomach.

He can't do this. He won't.

What if... what if he wants too...

He retches. Body shaking violently.

All those stories his grandfather told him when he first phased. Explaining about an imprint. How important they are to their wolf. How rare it is, a privilege to be chosen. How they are to be worshipped, loved.

His eyes fall upon the small bottle. Contents scattered across the bathroom floor. He surges forward, fingers grabbing at the tiny pills, growling in frustration as they slip through his grasp.

He takes a deep breath, calming himself. Eyes closed as he counts to ten. Before finally. Finally. He's lifting one of the pills from the floor. Then another. Until his palm is full of them.

Such little things. He pushes at them with his finger tip. Hard to believe something so small will be able to change his life so completely. Tears fill his eyes at the thought of his friends, his family, his pack.

They would understand. They would have too. How would they expect him to go on like this? None of them knew what would happen, what could? He would rather be free of this hell, than trapped within temptation.

Sam and Jared had both imprinted on girls of age. And both fought with the need to be near them. To make sure they were safe, cared for. Loved. Physically as well as emotionally.

Physically.

The thought makes him gag.

He clenches his fist around his escape. This is the only way. The right thing to do. The only thing to do. His whole body shakes with the reality of his decision. Of never seeing his friends. Never saying things he should have said, of not being scared to take a chance, but it's too late now.

He pulls his tired body from the cold tiled floor. Not recognising the face staring back at him in the mirror, he leans over the sink, staring at the tanned skin and dark brown eyes. He doesn't know who he is any more. What is he meant to do. How to carry on. He's lost. So fucking lost and scared. It's best for everyone, safer for... for. He swallows. Can't even bring himself to think her name. Let alone say it.

He reaches for a glass, filling it from the tap. His mothers toothbrush sits in its usual place. He swallows back the sob, as he allows his fingers to brush against the handle. Closing his eyes, he takes one deep breath before swallowing the palm full of pills, chasing them down with the ice-cold water. He lets the glass slip between his fingers. Crashing to the floor, shattering into tiny fragments.

Shattering just like his life.

Broken and irreparable.

"What the fuck just happened?" Paul snarls, pacing as he glares at the retreating figures.

"He imprinted." Sam explains. Shell shocked.

"On a kid?" Jared looks to where Emily is carrying the small child from the beach. A fucking kid. He shakes his head, walking towards his best friend. "How is that even possible?"

"I... I don't know. I thought... we were told the imprint is a gift, our perfect match. How is that possible? She's just a baby... Jesus Christ." Sam whispers, hand scrubbing across his face.

The others look no better, all shocked at the recent development. All witness to the cosmic event that just changed one of their pack brothers lives. The horror that appeared on Quil's face seconds after it happened, was ingrained into their memory. This isn't something that could be fixed easily. Erased as a silly teenage mistake. This is a moment in time that would change his life forever.

An imprint.

Someone who he would need to be in contact with for the rest of his life.

"Where do you think he's gone?" Jake asks. Fingers digging into the broad shoulder of Embry. Both hurt and confused for their friend.

"Home." Paul answers before anyone else can. Sam nods in agreement.

They stand around, all lost in thought. Not sure what to do.

"Someone should check on him." Sam whispers. Voice breaking the heavy silence, as his eyes follow the path his own imprint left by.

"We'll go." Embry says softly. Taking a small step forward only to be cut off by Paul's angered snarl.

"No, I'll go. He doesn't need you two pussy footing around him."

"Fuck you Paul." Jake spits. "He's our friend. Why the fuck do you care?"

Paul growls, the sound rumbling deep within his chest as he steps towards Jake. Eyes flashing dangerously as he bares his teeth.

"Let him go, Jake." Jared steps in, placing a calming hand on Paul. Feeling the way he vibrates with anger at Jake's question. One that is not easily answered.

Jake stares at them, before nodding slightly.

Paul sends one final heated glance at him, before running towards the forest. He doesn't even bother to phase, his human form pushing itself harder and faster. The undeniable need to reach Quil, screamed at him.

Faster.

Faster.

He breaks through the tree line, body scratched from low hung branches, legs sliced from thorns. He feels nothing. Just this deep thrum to find Quil. He leaps up the few steps of the porch, fist connecting with the wooden door as he calls out Quil's name.

No answer.

He tries again. Both fists beating at the door.

Silence.

"Fuck this." He mutters to himself, fingers already wrapping around the handle, turning to see if it's unlocked. The door swings open soundless. The scent of Quil is everywhere.

"Quil?" He calls out moving between rooms. No one's home. Of course, his mother is at the store and his grandfather attending a council meeting. No one would be.

The sound of shattering glass, has Paul rushing up the stairs, taking them two at a time. His heart beating frantically as he bursts through the bathroom door. His eyes landing on the huddled form of Quil, before taking in the utter chaos. Broken glass surrounding him, blood running freely from the cuts on his hands, smearing across the white floor, where he had tried and failed to clean up the shattered fragments.

"Quil?" He calls out softly. Not daring to move any closer.

Paul watches, as the other boy tries to pick up a large shard of glass, missing it three times before giving up and flopping back against the wall, head connecting with the bricks. Paul winces at the sound it makes, but Quil doesn't even notice.

"Quil?" Paul tries again, harsher this time.

Quil's head rolls to the side as he tries to focus on whose voice is calling him. But he can't, everything is starting to become a little fuzzy and numb. He's dizzy as hell. And so tired. So very fucking tired.

Paul watches as Quil's eyes roll around in his head, at his feeble attempt to move his limbs. Paul scans the bathroom, eyes falling on a small white bottle, he moves quickly across the room, snatching the plastic from the floor, reading the label, eyes widening in horror.

"Jesus Christ, Quil. What have you done?" He falls to his knees, grasping the other boys face between his hands. He watches as his eyes roll, pupils blown.

"Quil!" He shouts, shaking the other boy harshly. A barely audible grunt is all he can hear. "Fuck!" He curses, raising his hand and slapping Quil as hard as he can. The other boy blinks in confusion.

"Atta boy, come on Quil, stay with me." Paul heaves him into a sitting position, wrapping his arm around his shoulders to keep him in place. He uses his free hand to dig into the pocket of his jeans, finding his phone, he quickly dials the Clearwaters.

Sue picks up on the fourth ring.

She isn't sure what could happen since Quil is a shifter, and their healing abilities are more advanced than a human. All she can do at the moment is speculate, and she really doesn't want to, but Paul insists. Considering his bulk, the pills are not life threatening, but Quil is still at risk. Asking what the worst case scenario could be. Sue explains, not to make him vomit or give him anything to eat or drink. He also might have seizures and diarrhoea. Worst case would be hallucinations and possible coma.

"Jesus fuck..." Paul breathes out.

"If he gets worse Paul ring me back immediately. I'm only guessing at the moment, we've never had to deal with... look I'm going to the centre to see if we have any charcoal there, just in case. If not I'll have to drive to Forks, but keep me updated."

"I will, thanks Sue."

Paul ends the call, turning to face... fuck what is he even? Not just a pack brother, not a friend. Something more. Or at least Paul wants something more. He drags his fingers through short hair, resting his forehead heavily, as he breathes Quil in.

His scent is all wrong. The drugs mixing heavily with his normal delicious aroma. Paul squeezes his eyes shut, refusing to think of what could have happened if there had been more pills to hand, would he have been too late? Would he have lost Quil, before... fuck before he could finally admit to himself what he felt. How he felt about the other boy.

If he squeezes Quil a little tighter, then who would blame him.

They sit on the floor for what feels like hours, the cold tiles uncomfortable against his numb ass, but he refuses to move. Refuses to risk the slightest chance of making anything worse. Even when Quil's scent begins to clear, the drugs slowly leaving his system. He stubbornly stays where he his, not wanting to be far just in case.

A loud groan, has his heart beat with hope. Quil shifts next to him, face rubbing against the fabric of Paul's top. As he finally opens his eyes, taking in his surroundings.

"Paul?" Quil whispers softly as he gazes up at the boy, holding him tight.

Paul twists to look at him.

"What happened?" The look of utter devastation that appears on Quil's face when realization hits, shatters Paul's heart. "Oh god." He sobs, eyes squeezed tight.

"Hey, it's OK." Paul soothes, pulling the other boy to him. Wrapping both arms around his bulk.

"No, no it's not. Fuck Paul, a kid..." He hiccups, "...a fucking kid." He's yelling then, pulling from the other boys embrace. Fighting to untangle their bodies.

Paul just holds him tighter.

"How could... I don't even know what to think. I mean, is there something wrong with me, in here?" He thumps at his chest. "There must be right? Why else would I imprint on a kid? I must be broken... sick."

"You're not sick, there's nothing wrong with you, fuck Quil. This isn't your fault." Paul tries to reason with him.

"I don't know what to do Paul. I just... I can't live like this. A child." He shakes his head.

"So you thought killing yourself would be the best thing to do? The right thing?" Paul growls.

Quil turns to look at him, brown eyes filling with tears. "The only thing." He whispers honestly. "It would have been for the best. You should have let me die Paul. You should have just left me alone..." He cries openly then. Choking on the sobs, that escape him.

"No, never. It's not the only thing. How could you even think that?" Paul surges forward closing the distance between them, grabbing his face, making the other boy look at him. "So many people care about you Quil, you think it's just your mom and grandfather who would miss you? You think no one would care if you were gone? Wrong, you are so fucking wrong." He shakes his head. "So many people would be heartbroken if you were no longer here, don't you get that."

"But the imprint..."

"Is fucked up. I know, I get it. But it's not a reason to give up, to end your life." Paul pleads. Needing Quil to understand.

Quil shakes his head, trying to disagree. The tears run down his skin and across Paul's hands that still cup his face. Closing his eyes, Quil licks his dry lips. Paul tracking the movement.

"Why did you come here?"

Paul drags his eyes away from Quil's lips. Focusing on the confused look on his face.

"Out of everyone, you would be the last person I expected to check on me. Jake and Embry yeah, but you?" Quil says honestly, shaking his head.

Paul shrugs, averting his gaze.

"No, you don't get to do that. You don't get to play dumb and ignore me. Not now." His fingers wrap about Paul's wrists, holding him in place.

"I was worried." Paul admits. Eyes locking with Quil's before quickly looking away.

"About me?" Quil questioned.

Paul bites at his cheek, eyes darting around the small room, as his thumbs brush against the soft skin of Quil's face. He nods.

"When I seen what happened earlier, when you imprinted. I was so angry. So fucking livid. The look on your face, Jesus Quil... it killed me. My heart fucking broke. You looked devastated, so completely lost, it was the most heart wrenching thing I've ever seen. And you know what?"

Quil shakes his head. "No, what?"

"All I could think of was, why wasn't that me?" Paul's dark eyes bore into Quil's.

"Liar." Quil whispers. Fingers digging into the material of his shirt. Grounding him.

"Never. Not about that, not about you." Paul's voice determined and strong, as he speaks the truth.

"You don't..."

"I do." Paul cuts him off. "I have for a long time. Ask Jared."

"Why didn't you say something?" Quil whispers.

"Scared." Paul admits honestly.

"Of what?"

Paul's eyes, track the movement of his thumbs, as they brush against Quil's skin. "Of you not wanting me, the way I want you."

Quil chokes out a sob. "And now it's too late." He shakes his head, fingers tightening their hold.

"We'll find a way." He sounds so sure, so confident.

"Imprints are for life." Quil states.

"She's fucking two!" Paul roars, the calm finally slipping away. "There must be a way?"

"If there is, we don't know about it."

"Your grandfather. He has the old writings, the journals, maybe there is something in them?" Paul suggested.

Quil shrugs. "I don't know. If there is he's never mentioned it"

"It's worth a shot right?" Paul asks.

"He won't help us Paul, he's all about imprinting and being thankful for the precious gift." Quil spits.

"Yeah? Well let's see what he thinks about his grandson imprinting on a fucking two-year old. I bet that changes his fucking attitude."

Quil sags against the wall. Eyes closed as he just breathes in deeply. Paul's scent calming him. He feels so utterly lost. Not sure which direction to turn, not even sure what to do. Would his grandfather help him? It's worth a shot, right?

"How you feeling?" Paul's fingers gentle as they run through his short hair, scratching at his scalp.

"I'm OK, just tired. Confused."

Paul nods in understanding.

"I'm sorry." Quil murmurs. Eyes closed as he leans further into Paul's touch.

"For what?" Paul asks softly.

"For taking those pills."

Paul's fingers falter for a moment before they continue their repetitive motion.

"I didn't mean to. I just ran and then I was here, home... I just couldn't see any other option. I thought... fuck, I had so many thoughts running through my mind, a little kid, then the way Sam and Jared are with their imprints, the need and desire... what if I wanted to...Jesus Christ, touch her."

"You mean sexually."

"Fuck Paul. Yes... I, god yes and the thought of even... I couldn't take that chance of becoming someone so disgustingly evil. Rather than risk becoming like that, becoming so sick and twisted. I thought my only option was to end my life, that way she would be safe and I would be free."

"You fucking idiot." Paul pulls Quil to him, arms wrapping around his larger frame, hugging the bigger boy close.

"I would have fucking kicked your ass if you had died. You know that right? "

Quil chuckles slightly around his sobs. Fingers clutching onto Paul.

They sit together in a comfortable silence, both lost in their own thoughts, until Paul sighs. "I have to ring Sue back, tell her you're OK." Paul explains as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

"When did you ring Sue?" Quil asks confused.

Paul just looks at him.

"Oh, OK." Quil makes a motion to move from Paul, to give the other boy some room, put Paul just holds on to him, using his free hand to awkwardly dial Sue's number before lifting the phone to his ear.

The conversation is short and to the point. Quil just rests his head against Paul's shoulder, listening to the deep timbre of his voice as he speaks. Paul ends the call slipping the phone back into his pocket.

"Sue thinks you should be OK, she doesn't really want you to eat anything for a little while, but drink some water, small sips, anything else might make you sick."

Quil nods, not lifting his head.

"Do you want to go downstairs?" Paul asks gently.

"I want a shower. I feel like shit."

"Smell like it too, you also need to brush your teeth." Paul teases trying to lighten the mood.

Quil smiles softly as he pushes himself upwards. Paul tracking his movements, shadowing him closely. He stumbles slightly, but Paul is there with helping hands, steadying him.

"You OK?" He asks worriedly. Hands still holding onto Quil's arms.

"Yeah, just a little light-headed." He shuffles towards the shower. Reaching into turn the dial, allowing the water spring to life. He fights with his top, lifting it off his body with more effort than he is used to. His jeans are next, the heavy material sliding down his thighs before he realizes Paul is staring.

"Will you... I mean." Quil looks towards the shower before looking back at Paul. "I don't want to be alone... " He asks, looking a mixture of hopeful and utterly terrified.

Paul swallows thickly, nodding his head before removing his own top. He can feel Quil's eyes on him. It isn't the first time either have seen the other naked, but this is different they've finally admitted how they feel, shared their hidden secrets with one another. So these looks are different, heated, full of want and promise.

His jeans hit the floor.

"Commando." Quil chuckles. "Should have guessed." The light banter he tries to convey is still coated in a heavy sombre. But Paul ignores it. Would ignore it for now and give the other the comfort he needs.

Quil turns shedding his boxers before stepping behind the curtain, Paul's eyes catching a fleeting glimpse of tanned, toned ass before it disappeared from view. He takes a deep breath, listening as the water hits Quil's skin, the content sigh that leaves the other boys lips. He closes his eyes, fingers moving aside the material that separates them. The heat from the water surrounding him as soon as he steps inside the shower, making the air hot and heavy. He watches Quil duck his head under the water, eyes closed, lips parted. Paul shuffles closer. Fingers twitching with the urge to touch and take. But not now. Not here.

Their bodies brush lightly as they move under the water, dark eyes lock onto one another, no words are needed, this isn't about sex. This is about trust, comfort and just needing to be there for one another, for Paul to show that he is here for Quil. Always.

He reaches for the shampoo squeezing a handful into his palm before turning Quil gently, until his back is to Paul's chest. Fingers slip on wet skin, but soon enough Paul is massaging the soap into Quil's short hair, the sigh of contentment that escapes him sends a shiver through Paul's body. The smell of soap and Quil, has his dick hard, but he ignores it, ignores the way the water runs across Quil's skin, how his muscles move and the way his breathing changes every time Paul runs his fingers down the side of his neck. He watches Quil use his hands to brace himself against the wall, fingers flexing on the tiles as he moans with every wonderful press of Paul's talented digits.

He's never done this before. Never been this intimate with someone. This holds meaning. So fucking much and it scares him. What he feels for Quil, crept up on him, it wasn't an instant thing. In all honestly he couldn't even tell you, when it happened. Just that it did. And the need to be near him. Close to him. It's overwhelming some days.

The soft brush of fingers against his wrist drags him back from his thoughts.

"You OK?" Quil asks from over his shoulder, looking at Paul.

"Yeah, just thinking." He grabs the bar of soap, lathering it between his hands before running them down the expanse of Quil's broad back. Muscles twitching under his skin.

"What about?"

"About how much time I wasted being an idiot, that if I had just told you..."

"Hey, I never told you either. It works both ways you know." Quil reasons.

"Yeah, I know."

"If you're worried about the imprint, I understand. So am I."

"I am yeah, but I'm not going anywhere. Not now. I know it took me long enough to man up, but the thought of losing you, of never even being able to try... yeah, I'm not giving up so easily on this. Not on you."

Quil grips Paul's hand with his own. Fingers tight as they hold on to one another.

"We'll find a way. There has to be."

Paul leans forward, pressing his head against Quil's back.

"We will." He agrees.

Paul steps free from the shower first, wrapping himself in a towel before handing another to Quil when he appears. Quil takes Paul's hand in his own, fingers intertwined as he leads the other boy to his room. Gathering some clothes for them both to wear.

"Thanks." Paul whispers, dropping his towel and slipping on the shorts and T-shirt. Quil doing the same.

"What do you think I should do?" Quil asks once both boys are sat on the bed, leaning back against the headboard.

"Honestly? I think you should talk to your grandfather, he might know something?" Paul tells him, idly playing with Quil's fingers.

"Yeah, I just don't know how he's going to react. He's always said how honoured we should be if the gods choose to bestow us with an imprint, but now, since this happened to me. I can't see how it's a gift? How could it be?"

"I have no idea, but I agree it's all kinds of fucked up." Paul scrubs at his face.

"Even if I waited for her, by the time she turns sixteen I'm going to be... fuck, thirty-two?" The utter disgust is clear on his face. "That's just, wrong. So fucking wrong."

"It is, I have no idea why this has happened. I wish it hadn't, I really fucking do." Paul squeezes Quil's fingers tight. "But it has, and we'll deal with it."

Quil nods. Fingers toying with Paul's.

"I can't believe you're here." Quil whispers, looking down at their joined hands.

"Neither can I." Paul replies, dark eyes gazing at Quil with such warmth. "It's not going to be easy you know."

"Yeah I know, but when is anything ever easy?" Quil smiles sadly.

"What ever we have to go through, it's going to be worth it. You know that right?"

Quil nods.

"Quil?"

"Can we sleep for a while? I'm tired." He murmurs softly.

Paul watches, as Quil shuffles down the bed, turning his back to him. The woeful aroma that drifts from him has Paul whine in distress. Rather than say anything, he just moves closer, wrapping himself around the other boy. Arms and legs entangled. Burying his face in the back of the others neck. Offering comfort.

He can feel the stuttered breath of the other boy, taste the sadness in the air. So he holds him tighter. Releasing his own breath when he feels fingers finally intertwine with his own.

They sleep for a few hours, before Paul wakes to the sound of the front door slamming. Lifting his face from where it's still buried in Quil's neck, he shifts slightly, his arms and legs wrapped protectively around the other boy, holding him close.

"Quil?" He calls out softly, nuzzling the other boy in an attempt to wake him up.

Quil snuffles into his pillow, face pressing against the soft fabric as he mumbles incoherently. Paul smiles. Not wanting the other boy to have to wake up and face the reality of what happened earlier. He wishes he could make it all go away.

If only life was so simple.

Paul traces his fingers down the side of Quil's face, watching as his lips spread into a soft smile.

"Quil, wake up. Your grandfathers home." Paul gently nudges his shoulder, finally rousing him.

"What?" He mumbles, voice deep from sleep.

"Your grandfathers, downstairs. Get up." Paul laughs as Quil curses. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"OK. I'm up."

They untangle their limbs, both stretching out their tired muscles. A comfortable silence settling between them.

"Quil? You home?" His Grandfather's voice calls up the stairs.

The boys share a look before Quil replies. Telling him he'll be down in a minute.

They descend the stairs together. Paul following Quil closely.

Old Quil is in the kitchen, filling the kettle. Mumbling to himself as he moves slowly, stiffly around the room. He turns as he hears the bottom step creak, his smile changing to a frown as he eyes Paul behind Quil.

"Didn't know you were here, young Lahote."

Paul throws a quick glance towards Quil before moving to stand next to him, hands brushing. Both boys silent as the Elder looks them over with a curious gaze. Eyes taking in the closeness of their stance.

"Something wrong?" He asks, turning from the tea he was making to give the two boys his full attention.

They share another look before Quil steps forward. Hands raking through his short hair as he tries to find the words.

"I... I imprinted." His voice sullen, void of emotion.

Old Quil is silent as he watches them.

"I take it you are not happy about this Quil? Is there something wrong with who the gods have gifted to you? Is she not everything you always wanted in a mate?"

Paul growls at the condescending tone.

Shaking his head he looks towards his grandfather. "No, she is not."

"You believe you are too good for your chosen? Your soul mate..."

"She's two years old grandfather. A child, a... baby." Quil cuts him off. "How can she be my perfect match, my mate?" He shouts, body vibrating with anger. Paul steps forward, placing a calming hand on his shoulder, fingers digging into his skin.

"What?" The words are whispered, as Old Quil sits heavily onto one of the wooden chairs. Disbelief written all over his face.

"It's true, I was there. We all were when it happened." Paul confirms.

"Who is she?"

"Emily's cousin, Claire. She was visiting for the weekend. We were at the beach..." Quil chokes back a sob.

"You're sure you imprinted? You're positive?" He asks desperately.

"Yes, I'm positive. I felt the pull, the moment I looked into her eyes, it was only for a split second, it wasn't even intentional. Just a fleeting glance."

"Is there some way to fix this? To break the imprint?" Paul asks.

"I've never heard of anyone ever breaking it, we don't know much. Just what was left behind in the journals and old writings. We only skimmed the archives to find out the essentials when Sam phased. Nothing else seemed important at the time."

"Well I think it's more than a little important at the moment, don't you?" Paul snaps.

"Paul." Quil calls out softly.

Old Quil looks between them. Sighing.

"It takes an imprint for the pair of you, to pull your heads out of your asses."

"I'm sorry, what?" Paul asks looking shocked.

"You knew?" Quil looks confused and impressed.

"Of course I did. I'm old, not senile. I've seen the way you look at one another, when you believe no one is watching, but this is good. This may help."

He's up then, collecting his walking stick from where it's leaning against the side.

"Where are you going?" His grandson asks.

"I need to look at something... something I read a long time ago."

"What is it? Will it help?"

"I can't say at the moment young one." He clutches his grandsons shoulder. "But I promise, I will do everything I can to help you... I never thought... what we were led to believe, what we read, told us the imprint was special. A gift." He shakes his head. "But now, for the first time in my life I have doubts towards our gods."

"Grandfather." Quil breathes out shocked.

"I do... how could they do this? They already ask so much of you and then to bestow such a burden." He shakes his head, patting his grandson gently before leaving through the front door.

"Well that was… weird." Paul states, eyes still firmly fixed on the door.

Quil shrugs. "You get used to him after a while." He shuffles towards the side, busying himself by pulling mugs from the cupboards. "Coffee?" He asks.

"Please." Paul closes the distance, his front to Quil's back. Breath warm on his neck, as he rests his chin on the others shoulder. Watching as he makes them a drink.

Quil sags against the warmth. Head tilting to the side as Paul's fingers dig into his hips. Holding him. Grounding him.

"I'm not going to do anything stupid again, Paul. I promise." He whispers. Needing the other to understand.

"I know. But if you ever feel that lost again, promise me you'll come talk to me. Doesn't matter what time, doesn't matter what I'm doing. I'll drop whatever it is, to talk to you. To be there for you. You get that right? That I'm here for you."

"I know." Quil whispers.

Paul places a soft kiss to the side of Quil's neck, before taking their mugs and walking towards the room. Turning to motion for Quil to follow. Sending the other boy a smile as he makes his way towards him.

They settle on the sofa, bodies touching from shoulder to hip. The warmth they radiate just brings them comfort.

"What do you want to do?" Paul asks, sipping at his coffee. Smiling when it's made to his liking.

"Stay here. I don't want to see anyone, let alone Sam and Emily. I need to wait for Grandfather, see if he finds something, if there is a way to break it. Then I can figure out what to do. But not yet, not until I know for sure."

"OK." Paul replies, body leaning more towards Quil.

They watch DVD after DVD. Killing time until Old Quil returns. The skies turn dark, as evening approaches and still no sign of the Elder.

"You can go home if you want to." Quil mumbles from his place in Paul's lap. The other boys fingers, running through the short, soft hair.

"Nah, I'm right where I'm supposed to me." He replies, eyes never leaving the screen of the television.

Quil lays there watching the boy above him, taking in his handsome face, the hard set of his jaw, and the long lashes that flutter every time he blinks.

"See something you like?" Paul asks, lips quirking as he looks down.

Quil licks his lips, breath stuttering as he watches Paul's eyes, track the movement.

Then before he realizes, lips are pressed against his. Soft, gentle. Not pushing, just a comforting presence. An innocent gesture.

Breaking the kiss, Paul hovers above the other boy, eyes roaming across his face, smiling softly as his fingers graze his overheated skin. Enjoying the way Quil's eyes fall shut.

"Thank you." Quil whispers.

Paul frowns, looking confused. "What for? Kissing you?"

"No." Quil laughs lightly, shaking his head. "For being here with me."

Paul's fingers run across Quil's forehead. "Always."

The front door bangs open. Both boys sit up turning towards the noise. Old Quil, followed by Quil's mother, stumble through the door, arms weighed down with books. Dropping them on to the nearest surface, Joy rushes forward, wrapping her arms around her son.

"I'm so sorry baby. Your grandfather explained what happened." She soothes, kissing her son's cheek softly.

"I'm fine mom." He tells her, face burying into her neck, breathing in his mother's scent.

"And you." She turns to look at Paul. "Being here with him. Thank you." She reaches out, pulling Paul into their hug, arms wrapped tightly around the two large boys.

"Mom." Quil whines as his mom presses another kiss to his cheek.

"Oh hush." She waves him off, turning to retrieve the books she dropped before disappearing into the kitchen.

"Should we go help?" Paul asks just as old Quil bellows for them. The boys stand stiffly. Heading towards the kitchen.

They walk into complete and utter chaos.

"Mom?" Quil calls out. Eyes scanning all the open books, spread across the table. "Where did all this come from?" He looks towards Paul who just shrugs.

"We went to the council." His Mom answers, eyes flicking across one of the pages in front

of her.

"Does Billy know?" Paul asks, peering at the scrolls.

"Of course he knows, I didn't steal them young Lahote." Old Quil shifts slightly. The boys exchange a look.

"Grandfather?" Quil calls out, sitting on one of the empty seats, pulling Paul down next to him.

The older man sighs, pushing the book onto the table. "I didn't tell Billy, everything. I thought it best we keep this between us. For now. At least until I'm sure there is something we can do about the imprint."

Both boys nod in agreement.

"Good. Now that's all settled, grab a book." Joy tells them. Both boys do as they're told. Before stopping.

"Um, what exactly are we looking for?" Paul asks.

Old Quil stares at both boys, eyes intense. "Marking. We need to find out everything we possibly can."

They don't ask anything else. Throwing themselves into the task at hand.

Numerous coffee pots, bathroom breaks and frustrated sighs later. Joy startles the others with her piercing shriek.

"Mom! Jesus, what the hell?" Quil complains rubbing at his ears, Paul doing the same.

"Sorry boys." She tells them, her smile wide and delighted. "I think I've found something." She passes the book over to her father in law. Pointing at something low down on one of the pages.

Old Quil is silent as he reads the page once, twice. Before he's leaning back in his chair, exhaling a long breath.

"I think that will do nicely." He comments.

Both boys look at one another, then at old Quil.

"Well?" Paul's asking. "What is it? Will it help Quil?"

Nodding he passes the book over to his grandson. "Read the bottom paragraph."

Quil reads the page, slowly. Before passing the book to Paul. Waiting patiently.

"Seriously?" Paul asks, dropping the book onto the table top.

"I'm afraid so, young Lahote." He replies nodding.

"But that's not fair, he's going from being trapped with one person, to another. How is that even right?"

"It's not like that. Marking is different. It's a choice, Quil will have more free will. More choice in his decisions. Will be able to refuse if he so wishes, anything you want to do. You cannot force him or abuse the marking like an imprint can." He spits out the last words. "With an imprint Paul, Quil will have to spend time with Claire. With you, he will want too. That, is a huge difference."

"How are you even sure about this?" Paul asks, all the fight leaving him.

"I'm not. But if this can help him break the imprint, then I will back the decision one hundred percent. I do not want my grandson to live a half life. A miserable one. Not the way Leah Clearwater has had to."

"You mean Sam could of marked Leah?" Joy asks, shocked.

"I honestly don't know. Once he found out what imprinting was, he pursued Emily with everything in him, and she didn't put up much of a resistance."

"Well that sucks." Paul mumbled, rubbing his hand across his face.

"We'll do it." Quil answers for the both of them.

Paul's head snaps in his direction. "Don't you think we should talk about this?"

"No." He replies shaking his head.

"It's a big decision." Paul whispers, leaning in closer to Quil, noses brushing.

"I know what I'm doing Paul. I know who I want to be with."

"What if you change your mind." Paul looks vulnerable.

"I won't." He replies, a fierce hold on the other boys hand. "Never." He tries to convey to him, how important he is to him. Make him understand that it hasn't been just this night. That it's been so many nights. So much longing. So much want. And if he gets to have that. If he gets to have him, then he's happy with that. So very happy.

Paul just watches him closely. Must see something in his eyes, smell something in his scent, because he's squeezing his hand, sending him a small smile and nodding.

"OK. Yeah, we'll do this. Definitely."

"Good." Old Quil smiles at them both.

"But on one condition." Everyone looks at Paul.

"Quil marks me too."

"What?" Quil's asking.

"Meet you in the middle." He whispers, smiling softly. "Fifty, fifty all the way Quil. I mark you. You mark me."

"You sure?" He asks, moving closer to the other boy, eyes wide. Happy.

"Positive. I won't risk imprinting on someone else, not if there is a chance to avoid it. I know who I want Quil, there's no doubt in my mind." They smile at each other. Fingers intertwined.

"Right. Now that's settled, we need to decide when." Old Quil is saying, moving to refill the coffee pot.

"As soon as possible?" Paul's asking.

"Yes, that would indeed be best. Tonight?" He's looking between both boys. Waiting for an answer.

"Tomorrow. I'm tired. Emotionally and physically." His grandfather nods in understanding.

"Stay at Paul's tonight. Relax around one another." He brings the coffee pot back to the table, filling Joy's cup for her. "Then when you're ready tomorrow, you can mark each other."

Quil nods in agreement.

"Do we need to do anything to prepare?" Paul asks.

"I would assume you have lubricant?" He asks. As Joy spits her coffee over the table and her son.

"Oh my god." She yells as she jumps to her feet, grabbing a cloth.

"Grandfather!"

Paul looks momentarily shocked, before he starts laughing.

The Elder shrugs, sipping at his cup. "Marking is intimate. I thought you understood that?"

"Yes, because the huge paragraph in that book, held so much information." Quil snapped.

"No need to be sarcastic grandson. I was merely enquiring."

"Well you could have warned us. Jesus. That's... I mean. I don't even know." He sighs dropping his head to the table top with a resounding thud.

Paul rubs between his shoulder blades.

"What I think Quil is trying to explain, is that today is the first time we actually admitted our feelings towards one another." Paul tells them.

"Well it's not our fault you are both dense..."

"Quil!" Joy shouts.

"Stupid even." He carries on ignoring her. "I mean, how could you not see the looks you share, the yearning."

"Grandfather." Quil mumbles, face squished against the wood still.

The Elder sighs. "The sooner the marking is completed, the better. Intercourse may not be a necessity. It is just a more intimate, closer connection."

"Never, say intercourse again. Ever!" Quil grumbles.

Paul chuckles rubbing at Quil's short hair.

"I agree. Wholeheartedly. It is something I could go without hearing again." Joy adds.

Old Quil rolls his eyes.

"Well on that note I think we should be heading out." Paul stands, hand still firmly wrapped around Quil's as he pulls the other boy to his feet. He stumbles slightly, exhausted from everything that has happened today.

They say their goodbyes. Hugging and exchanging kisses as they leave.

"You OK to walk all the way?" Paul asks, watching Quil closely.

"I'm fine just tired. Plus it's not that far."

Paul just nudges their shoulders together, as they walk.

They reach Paul's finally, Quil near enough falling through the door as Paul holds it open for him. He takes Quil's hand leading him straight to the bedroom, helping the other boy undress before striping his own clothes. They climb into bed, the cool sheets a welcoming comfort against their overheated skin.

They both sigh in relief. Kicking the comforter to the end of the bed, limbs free from constriction.

"How you feeling?" Paul asks, turning to look at the other boy.

Quil opens his eyes, head tilting slightly towards Paul. "I'm good. Just... tired. Feeling a little stupid as well."

"About the pills?"

Quil nods. "Yeah. What was I thinking? What if I managed to do it... and you never came to the house and my mom found me. It was stupid, stupid and fucking selfish."

"Hey." Paul moves closer, slipping his arm across Quil's stomach, pulling him in. "It doesn't matter. You're fine. You're safe and we're going to fix this. Together. OK?"

He feels Quil nod.

"No. I want to hear you say it Quil." He encourages. Needing Quil to believe the words. To believe him.

"I'm fine and we're going to fix this, together." He finally whispers into the darkness.

"Yes, together." Paul echoes. Nuzzling his face against Quil's neck. Listening until the other boys breathing evens out, sleep taking him, before following himself.

The morning rays rouse Paul from his sleep. His limbs are wrapped protectively around Quil. Legs intertwined, bodies pressed so close there isn't an inch of space between them. Paul rubs his face against Quil's back, breathing in his musky scent. Listening to his steady heartbeat. Allowing himself these private moments. Moments he will look back on in years to come. Remembering how they finally got together. Admitting their feelings. Even if it started as something heartbreaking, it was beginning to turn in something, better. More than that. So much more than he ever thought possible. Just to have Quil here with him, feeling the same way he does. He never thought, not for a moment it would happed. Despite all his bravado, his confidence. When it came down to admitting to Quil how he felt? He couldn't do it. Wouldn't. The thought of losing any connection with him was enough to push his own feelings aside. Settle on being his friend if that got him a permanent place in his life.

He looks over to the sleeping boy, face buried in the pillow, a gentle snore escaping his lips. Paul traces his fingers, softly across the bare skin of Quil's arm. He's so fucking happy right now. He presses his lips against the solid muscle of Quil's back. Nose rubbing back and forth across his skin. Smelling him. Scenting. He smells like home. As well as everything he ever wanted and more. His lips trail lightly across his skin, Paul losing himself in the mere feeling of Quil. His dark tanned skin, soft under his lips. The steady rise and fall of Quil's body releases a warmth deep inside Paul, just knowing Quil is comfortable around him, to allow himself to be in this vulnerable state. Brings him pure joy. He continues to kiss his way across Quil's impressive broad back. Muscles twitching with every flick of his tongue.

"What you doing?" Quil's slurred voice breaks the silence. Face rubbing against the fabric of the pillows. As he lets loose a small moan.

Paul smiles against his skin, lifting himself up so he can see Quil easier.

"Kissing you, is that ok?" Paul smiles smugly.

"Mmm. You're doing it wrong."

Paul laughs. "I know how to kiss Quil."

"Well if you did, then you would know that your lips, should be on mine." He looks directly at Paul. Challenging him.

"Is that so?" Paul asks, moving closer. Eyes never leaving Quil's.

"Yes."

"My apologies then." He whispers, lips brushing Quil's as he speaks. "I'll fix that immediately."

Then he's pushing forward, closing the distance as his lips press against Quil's. The angle isn't perfect, but the feeling of their lips on one another, is beyond anything either imagined. Quil moans deep in the back of his throat, body twisting to get at Paul. To touch him. He manages to maneuver them into a better position. Quil on his back, with Paul draped over him. Hands grab, and touch. Fingers dig into each others skin, bruising flesh in their desperate need to feel. Teeth clash and lips are bitten as they kiss. They moan desperately. Rub against one another, panting into each others mouths when they gasp for air, before losing themselves in each others taste again. Tongues battle as they explore hot, wet mouths. Paul can't help himself as he sucks on Quil's bottom lip. Pulling the others boys plump skin into his mouth, teasing him with his tongue before releasing him. Watching as Quil's eyes glaze over with arousal. Feeling his length thrust against his thigh, as he in turn rubs himself against Quil. No shame or embarrassment here.

"Do it." Quil breaths against his mouth.

Paul pulls back a fraction to look at him. "Yeah?" He asks, eyes dropping to his bare exposed neck, eyes darkening in anticipation of seeing his mark there. His wolf pacing with excitement.

"Yeah." Quil answers smiling as Paul drags his hungry gaze away from Quil's neck.

Paul kisses Quil soundly, bodies rocking against one another as he wraps himself around him. He nestles himself between Quil's spread legs, hips thrusting and rocking faster, harder, as they moan louder, their kissing becoming sloppier, more desperate. Dirtier.

"Fuck Quil." Paul moans loudly, thrusting as his face drops into the crook of Quil's neck. He sucks at his skin, leaving bruises as he explores, tongue running across the sweat slicked flesh, tasting him. Quil moans as Paul sucks another bruise into his skin.

"Paul." Quil begs. Hands grabbing at Paul's ass pulling him closer.

He licks a path up Quil's neck, biting on the lobe of his ear before gently speaking.

"Are you sure Quil? Once we do this there's no going back." His breath entices a moan from the other boy.

"Yes, fuck yeah. I'm sure. So sure." Quil begs.

Paul smiles against Quil's neck, licking his overheated skin, kissing his way towards his neck, taking his time, teasing him as he runs his tongue up and down the column of his neck, enjoying every sound that escapes his mouth, every stuttered breath and squeeze of his thighs.

"Wanted you for so long." Paul, whispers, causing Quil's heart to swell. His fingers gently tilt Quil's head further to the side. "Now you're mine." He states before sinking his teeth into the flesh of Quil's neck. The other boy grunts from the pain, fingers digging into Paul's arms, as he arches off the bed, pushing Paul with him.

"Jesus Christ." Quil moans, as he clutches at Paul, holding the other boy to him as the pain turns into one of pleasure, he can feel their connection, feel the power behind the intent. He's moaning louder as Paul's teeth sink in deeper. His wolf howling with joy. Before Paul's carefully extracting himself. Moving slowly as not to hurt Quil. He hovers above his neck, eyes fixed on the freshly marked skin. Then he's leaning forward, lapping at the wound.

"You OK?" He asks softly.

Quil opens his eyes and smiles. "Yeah, that was fucking amazing." He's a little breathless and very fucking turned on.

"Yeah?" Paul smiles down at him.

"Fuck yeah." Quil flips them then, Paul's smaller body under his as he pins the other boys arms to the bed playfully. "I could feel our connection straight away. Feel you." He adds with a thrust of his hips.

"How do I feel?"

Quil beams at him. Eyes bright, happy. "Like home." He answers, before surging forward and kissing Paul. Quil doesn't waste any time, he attacks Paul's mouth, tongue slipping inside as he thrusts against him, fingers flexing against the other boys wrists as he holds him in place. His wolf his happy, ecstatic. He wants this just as much as he does. To mark and claim the boy beneath him. His eyes land on Paul's bare right shoulder and his wolf howls. There he's saying. Put our mark there. Quil nips at the skin, licking it before biting down. Not wasting anytime in claiming his mate.

Paul arches beneath him.

"Holy fuck!" He calls out. Hips thrusting upwards as Quil bites him harder. "Jesus…"

Quil circles his hips against Paul's. Moans at the feeling of their hard lengths beneath the layers of material. He angles his hips so their dicks rub against one another. Again and again, until Paul's crying out beneath him.

"Fuck Quil…" Paul's words break off as he plants his feet on the bed and pushes upwards just as Quil thrusts downwards. They cry out together. Quil releases Paul's shoulder, licking at the mark, sucking at his neck as they hold onto one another. Panting into sweat covered skin. Lips seek out each others, as they lose themselves in a kiss.

Fingers intertwined their breathing begins to slow. Finally gaining control of themselves.

"Jesus Christ." Paul mutters. Body relaxed as he lays next to Quil.

"I know." Quil laughs, fingers still intertwined.

Paul touches his neck, fingers running across the uneven skin as his body shivers from the contact.

"I can feel you." He tells Quil. "It's like a thrum, no… I don't know exactly. But you're here." He moves his hand around his body. "Every where."

"Yeah." Quil agrees. "I know what you mean."

"Can you still feel the imprint? Shit, did it work?" Paul sits up quickly, turning to look at Quil.

Quil lays there quietly, eyes closed. Mind searching.

Paul watches cautiously. He hopes it worked. Prays that it did.

Quil opens his eyes, looks and Paul before smiling slowly, softly.

"I can't feel her."

"No?" Paul questions.

"No, nothing. Not a trace of the imprint. It's gone." He smiles, big and bright. Pulling Paul down for a chaste kiss.

"Oh thank fuck." Paul laughs, foreheads pressing together. Relief thick in the air, as he leans in, to kiss Quil deeper.

To kiss his mate.