| Let Him Do It |

Ethan never liked heights. And not heights. Heights. Going over a bridge in the car was fine. Looking off the side of skyscrapers. Imagining jumping out of a plane. Those were not. Even Ferris wheels were difficult for him. In the past, Ethan when he had to jump off some crazy ledge while fused with his brother, he always let Aiden take full control. So now, standing on a rising carriage of the London Eye, he had to exercise a lot of self-control. By clamping his eyes shut. Gripping the rail tight. And squeezing the fuck out of Jackson's hands. There were people. Women and children and families. The metal seats were full so standing anywhere else would have been obstructing anyone's movement throughout the car.

"You can do this," Jackson said close to him.

"Why did you do this to me?" Ethan retorted through gritted teeth.

"Because the city is absolutely gorgeous from up here." He turned his head to look at his boyfriend. "Seriously, though, you'd better look at your eyes in a minute. That line was shit to stand in with that woman and her child, and those tickets cost me 60 pounds."

"You know I'm afraid of heights. And, you're rich so shut up."

"And yet you're gonna' open your eyes anyway."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because I said so. And you love me."

"I do, but—"

"No buts. Look, we're about to come to the top." Jackson put his mouth right up against his ear. "If you do this for me, I'll do something for you."

Ethan shuddered as the former-kanima opened his mouth wide and breathed at his ear, his teeth grazing against the tip. "What kind of something?" Ethan said, opening his eyes and turning to look into Jackson's eyes.

Jackson grabbed him by the chin and turned his face so he had to look out. Ethan took in the view and nothing happened. His knees didn't buckle. He didn't get vertigo. He just took in the city, and it was beautiful. "See. I told you."

"You did."

"You should trust me more."

"I do."

"Uh huh…"

"I do, really."

"And yet I'm unconvinced."

"Jackson Whittemore, don't think I'm letting you turn your offer around on me. I am not going to be the one that submits."

"We'll see."

"Tell me."

Jackson looked behind them and saw that a couple spaces had cleared on the other side. He took Ethan's hand and led them to fill in the gap. Ethan looked at him expectantly. Jackson rolled his eyes in turn. "Fine."

"You're such a beta bottom," Ethan remarked.

"I would say I give in because I want to make you happy, but screw you and your adorable face. I'm not telling you now."

Ethan wrapped his arms around Jackson's torso, trapping his arms in the embrace. "You're my beta bottom and I love you for it."

"Definitely not."

"Jackson."

"Nope."

"Jax."

"Screw you."

"Love of my life. The prettiest boy I've ever seen."

"Alright, alright. Just don't write a sonnet, it's nauseating." Ethan smiled wide, not yet unwrapping his arms but instead moving his face closer to Jackson's. The former-kanima rolled his eyes again. "You're unbearable." Ethan double blinked his eyes at him. "And such a pestering girl."

"And yet you can't get enough of this girl's dick. What are we up to now? Twice a day?" Jackson blushed. "So where, when, how?"

"It…damn, why did I open my mouth?"

"Because it's so pretty and you can't help but want to make your alpha happy."

"You're not my alpha, Mr. Blue Eyes," Jackson retorted.

Ethan sighed. "Two omega queens alone against the world."

"Can I get off this thing now?"

"So you can get on me?"

"Stop. Please stop. You win."

"Then where, when, and how?"

"You've always talked about…it involves a club, at night, and in the alley."

Ethan pictured it vividly in his head. He had dreamt about it one night when his lover had to stay overnight in Leicester for tryouts. He had slept alone, cold and untouched. His dream, though, kept him warm. They were deep down the alley next to Queen's Town nightclub. Jackson's arms were straight out against the brick, his back arched and legs splayed; his jeans were just around his thighs. Ethan was behind him, hand on the boy's dip in his back, the other gripping tight into his perfect hair, holding his head up. He was pounding into him, his bitchy bisexual boyfriend just taking it like a champ. The former alpha just shuddered again as the images returned in his mind.

"Yeah, I'm definitely making that happen. Tonight."

"You're insufferable."

"Your fault for bringing me up here."

"Your fault I love you so much."

/ | * | * | \

"You want anything?" Jackson asked after standing, looking down at his boyfriend on the couch.

"Just some water, thanks, Jax," Ethan said, wiping the sweat from his forehead again.

"You got it." He walked out of the lounge, leaving his boyfriend with Cheryl, Carlton, his fling of the week Julien, and a few other people of various genders and sexualities. He heard his name dropped as he walked away, but didn't hesitate, didn't make to let on. He walked out into the main room, the dance floor with two bars on the sides. "Two waters," Jackson said to the bartender closest to him. The twinkier man frowned. The werewolf held up the back of his hand to show him the black 'X' and made a snarky face at him.

As the bartender placed the waters on the counter and Jackson made to grab them, the latter froze. Under the current of sweat and heat and lust, something stuck out. It was off. It…stung. He knew the odor well—too well. He grabbed the drinks and hurried back into the lounge, downing his in two gulps before he even made it to the door. He spotted Ethan with the group, lips wide and laughing.

"Hey, Jackson!" Carlton called out. "Tell us about your football tryouts. The Foxes are gonna' get crushed this year."

"Ethan, we need to go," Jackson said, ignoring the heckles from their drunk human associate.

"Already?" the former alpha said, taking the water from him. He stood and leaned closer to him, "What about our deal to sneak out back? You wouldn't be trying to get out of that would you, Jax?"

"Um, sure. My stomach is upset from dinner. Can we go now?" he said, bulging his eyes.

Ethan took the cue, placing the plastic glass on the table by his leg. "Alright bitches, we're out. Jackson picked up something from dinner."

"Stay!" Cheryl cried, getting up herself.

"Can't, love," Jackson said, leaning in to embrace her. "I'll see you soon."

"They just wanna' get back ter fuck," Carlton slurred.

Ethan embraced their friend before turning to Carlton. "If you had a boyfriend as hot as him, you would, too," he said, enunciating his point with a flick of the back of his two fingers at him.

"It is a special weekend," Jackson admitted.

"And I'm proud of you for remembering," Ethan said, taking Jackson's hand as the latter led them out. "Night!" Jackson waved at them, leading them through the bodies and down the stairs and out onto the street. "You owe me when we get home."

"Don't I know it."

"What happened?"

"Nothing," he lied. "Just felt off in there."

"Carlton," Ethan muttered. "Fuckin' mood kill."

"It's not totally dead, yet," Jackson said before grabbing at Ethan's ass, his rounds so defined and showy through those form fitting jeans.

"Ah, so you are feeling alright."

"Enough to make it up to you."

/ | * | * | \

"Nngh…ah…" Jackson gasped. "Shit…" The former-kanima was on his hands and knees, his fingers digging into the bed. His head was up, his eyes numb and fuzzy as he did his best to look at the bedroom wall connect to the rest of their apartment. Ethan was behind him on his own knees, shoving into him at a hammering pace. He was gripping Jackson by his shoulders, pulling him into him with such force that the predominant sound in the room was sweaty skin slapping against sweaty skin. "Fuck…god, ugh!"

"Never enough…" Ethan gritted through his teeth. "This ass…" he said, looking down at the bubble butt, at the ripples waving through the top every time he slammed into those globes. "C'mere." The former alpha pulled Jackson up, the latter arching so his back was against the other's chest. Ethan pulled him back enough so he could devour Jackson's lips, all teeth and saliva. He wrapped one arm around the other's pecs, a hand gripping onto the pronounced muscle, while the other arm slipped down so a hand could tug at his lower abdomen, keeping his dick deep within his lover. He nipped at Jackson's lips, the latter making failed attempts to force his tongue inside his welcomed aggressor's mouth.

"Just let me—" Jackson tried, pulling away irritably before trying to reassert his tongue. In turn, though, Ethan shoved his forward first, driving deep into Jackson's mouth. "Nnnngh." Still upright, Ethan pulled his hips back and slammed forward again. "'eah…"

Ethan released him and thrust him back down to the bed, Jackson falling to his chest and face. "Who knew bi boys could be so slutty," Ethan cooed, slapping his ass. "Were you this wrecked with Lydia?"

The mention of another person's name sparked Jackson's anger. He pushed up with one hand and shoved Ethan back with the other. He clambered off the bed and tugged at Ethan's arm to come with him. "You need to shut the fuck up," Jackson warned before turning his boyfriend and shoving him face first into the small gap of wall between the bathroom and the nightstand.

"You gonna' make me—AH!"

"You're always so tight, Steiner," Jackson said against his ear, buried mostly dry inside him.

"So give me a minute," Ethan panted.

"Not a chance," the other werewolf said before pulling back and slamming back in, driving Ethan's cock hard into the wall.

"Fuck that hurt."

"Arch back, babe," Jackson urged, giving him two seconds to comply before he started pounding into him. Ethan did his best to swallow his sounds, but one particular thrust had him crying out. "Love me?" he said, knowing the spot he'd struck.

"God, yes," Ethan replied, using the wall to help steady himself as he met Jackson's thrusts.

"This dick, too?" he said, burying deep inside against his prostate and holding.

"No other," the other said, rotating his hips to get some semblance of movement.

"Good, 'cuz you're mine, Steiner." He continued to fuck him, gripping his hips tighter than before, pounding into him faster than he had.

"Jackson…hah…I'm close…"

The shorter werewolf pulled out with a sting to Ethan's entrance. "On the desk."

Ethan looked back at him. "Out there?"

"No questions," Jackson said, lightly slapping his jaw.

"Yes, sir, pretty boy," Ethan said with a grin, eliciting a frown from the other. He started walking out into the main room of their apartment, wiggling his ass as he crossed the threshold separating their bedroom.

"I'll never get over how tight those little cheeks are," Jackson said, looking at the firm mounds ahead of him.

"You should come and get them then," Ethan urged, reaching back and spreading them enough so his boyfriend could see the dark hairs around his hole.

A bead of precum pushed out of Jackson's slit as a surge of need coursed through him. He raced forward, slipping around the side of the desk to push Ethan against it, grinding their cocks together as he maneuvered their lips together. The former-alpha reached down to grab Jackson's butt, pulling them tighter, forcing the latter to stabilize himself with his arms on the desk. Jackson reached down and cupped the other's ass in his hand, squeezing it in a quasi-rhythm with their frot. Jackson's tongue was feeding into the other boy's mouth until he slipped his finger between the former-kanima's pucker. Jackson gasped at the sensation and Ethan shoved his own tongue in. He attempted to respond in kind, leaning back so he could cup the other's bum with both hands.

But Ethan had other plans, driving two of his fingers knuckle-deep, causing Jackson to tighten around them. "Do that around my dick," Ethan said before retrieving them and flipping the other around. He pushed Jackson forward before the latter could stop him. He was at the window and the former alpha pushed him through it, his waist catching just above the sill.

"Not like this," Jackson complained before the other was upon him. He ignored him, spreading the other's legs and pushing in. Jackson, more subconsciously than anything, tightened around that dick, complying one way or another.

"Just like that," Ethan moaned, grabbing at the other's hips and ass.

Jackson's thighs were tight up against the wall and the hard dig of the sill. He was forced to grab at the side and the top corner of the window as his boyfriend started to move once again. The cool, higher-elevated air breezed past their building, flowing around his dick. The heat behind him and inside him, combined with the cool front before him, Jackson wasn't going to last. He bit at his lip, trying to stifle any sound that could escape; there were still people out on the street despite the time. His erection flopped against the window sill as Ethan picked up speed, his balls slapping out every time the other boy's smacked into his own. That was what pushed Jackson over the edge. The addition of pain. It was just enough. His ass had already given up on pain, left only to greedily swallow every thrust Ethan gave him. His hands and thighs were numb from their respective grip or stance in attempt to hold him up. No, it was the only sensation left.

It ate into him as Ethan drove into the deepest reaches of his hole, on and off driving into his prostate as the latter's movements became more and more erratic. Jackson came with a whimper morphing into a cry, a four letter word topping it off. He didn't mean to come the way he did. He was thankful there wasn't anyone just below them. He did, as it were, shoot right out into the night, right down into the street. There was no controlling it. No stopping it. Ethan was everywhere. He was there during his orgasm, and he was there right after. Leaning over and wrapping his arms around Jackson's abdomen. Driving right up against his ass, halting as he came hot, white, and thick inside him. Jackson felt it. He welcomed it. He loved it.

Ethan pulled them back, his ass resting just at the top corner of the desk. He was still inside his werewolf lover, his arms still wrapped around him. Jackson leaned back as he had hoped, their mouth conjoining once again. Tonight, that's all that was needed. Fuck words. Fuck quips. Fuck worrying about what may have happened on the street level. Just them—bound together in body and in that moment.

/ | * | * | \

Jackson Whittemore walked out of the shower and into the locker room. The amateur football field had been busy that day, several local teams of various associations squeezing in exhibitions and practices. He walked over to his locker all hot and dripping, having practiced with two teams that afternoon. His friend Flynn was standing next to it, toweling off the back of his auburn hair, clad in nothing but his boxer briefs.

"It never ceases to amaze me, Jackson," Flynn began. "For an American, ya' got some quality moves. Ya' play back home?"

"Not until I got to Britain," Jackson said, dropping his towel on the bench. "Lacrosse was my game."

"Ne'er seen a natural like you. Any word from the Foxes?"

"Not yet." The werewolf finished drying himself off and slipped on his boxer-briefs. He reached in a retrieved his black dress-shirt.

"Plans tonight?"

"Anniversary. London Symphony Orchestra and dinner at the Bleeding Heart."

"Yuv' got a lucky lad," Flynn said.

"I'm the lucky one—he planned it all."

"Well enjoy, my friend. Gonna' be a terrific evenin.'"

"You, too," Jackson replied, bumping fists with his Scottish friend. He finished buttoning his shirt and proceeded to slip on his blue slacks. He slid his arms through the matching blue jacket, locked up his practice clothes in the locker, and made his way for the German specialty store. After grabbing an assortment of Ethan's favorite cakes, he made for his building. The moment he stepped inside the lobby, however, his nose stung as he breathed in; it was back. That odor.

Wolfsbane.