Finally they came up for air, panting. Monroe's hands were resting on the soft material of the washed-out jeans, holding them very close together. His fingers played their own little melody as they caressed the firm behind.
Mine!
The possessive thoughts rose unbidden and he closed his eyes, trying to even out his breathing, trying to actually breathe.
Slow down, Monroe told himself. One wrong step and things would blow up craptastically in his face. Keep it together, control, steady control. Don't lose it. He's not a blutbad. He wouldn't be able to take it.
"You're thinking too much," the Grimm told him, a smile in his voice.
"You're not giving this enough thought," he replied, voice choked.
"Really? Because you're a man or because you're a blutbad?"
Monroe shuddered.
"I'm bisexual, Monroe. Have always been. Juliette knew. I loved her. Like you loved Angelina. I didn't want a man in all that time, though I looked. Like women look at other men and can appreciate them. Or men can appreciate a good-looking woman." Nick's voice was intense. "Juliette knew my preferences for both genders. I never made a secret of it. I could have fallen for another woman, but you… I fell for you. This started a while back and it has only grown. And don't you think I haven't read about blutbaden?"
"The books," he said numbly, still trying to wrap his head around the 'I fell for you' part of Nick's speech.
"Yep. Quite detailed books."
"Books can't tell you everything, Nick."
He fell for me. For me!
Monroe was unable to understand that. By human standards he wasn't drop-dead gorgeous. Angelina had been all over him for reasons only another blutbad would understand and he wouldn't have been a hot-blooded blutbad if he hadn't been all over her. She was a strong, beautiful woman. Any blutbad would want to have her.
She had chosen him.
Now Nick had told him in so many words just the same.
He fell for me, Monroe thought again.It was as good as the three-words-confession to a blutbad.
He ran his hands over Nick's body. It was wonderful, intoxicating, and it was bittersweet. It was purely Nick in his openness, his silky feel, where he brushed over exposed skin, his delightful warmth, and it was his pain and desperation. The scent of the Grimm invaded his senses, made him crave more.
Crap, this wasn't going well. This was taking a unfuckingbelievable fast flying leap out the window!
"I'm not that naïve. I'm not that easy. This… I made up my mind about it a while ago, decided that if I got the chance, I'd take it. I want you, Monroe."
"Nick…"
"I know what you are. I've seen you wolf out. And I'm still here."
He swallowed. Of course Nick knew. The Grimm knew. And he had no idea what Grimms had collected about his kind in the past. Someone could have written down the Mating Habits of the Wild Blutbad in Nature and drawn little porny pics, too.
"And I trust you."
It was like the last blow and Monroe wanted to howl in fury and desperation. How could the Grimm trust him? He was ruled by his nether instincts, despite all the control he claimed he had, and it had gotten someone killed! It had gotten Hap killed!
"Monroe…"
Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe Nick was too easy in his acceptance of a blutbad as a partner. Maybe they were both going about this the wrong way. Maybe there was no right way.
"You want it," Nick said calmly.
Of course he wanted it, wanted Nick. He wanted everything with this man, wanted to touch and taste and hold. He wanted him so badly, it hurt.
Nick arched into Monroe's exploring touch, leaned into the lips ghosting over his skin. The blutbad wanted to nibble at the smooth neck, but if this continued, he couldn't guarantee for anything. The nibble would become more and burying his fangs in the inviting flesh was just one of the many things that would quickly end whatever it was that was about to happen here.
With Angelina it had been the pure wildness, the freedom, the smell of the forest and the air and her. Just purely and simply her. Female blutbaden, when taunting a male, were irresistible. She had wanted him, he had wanted her, and the need had pushed away all logical thinking. Years of going straight, all blown away in one night.
Because he had lost control.
But Nick wasn't blutbad; he wasn't female. Still, he was intoxicating, he was desirable, he was powerful and dangerous and he smelled incredibly good.
His hands slid under the t-shirt, encountering more of that soft skin stretching over firm muscles and Nick was like a cat seeking attention.
So good. So tactile. So arousing and addictive. He wanted to taste it all, he wanted to hold this man in his arms and mark him, make him his.
More kisses were traded, tongues and teeth meeting with growing force, until Monroe pulled back, noticing the renewed winces.
"Monroe!" Nick protested.
He studied the still too drawn and pale face. He knew he had put a lot of those lines there with his behavior. Nick had gone through a rough spot the size of Oregon in the past weeks and Monroe hadn't helped.
He stroked over the smooth skin, delighting in the feel of it. Not curvy like a woman, far from Angelina, who was all hard muscles and blutbad firmness. Nick wasn't a woman either; he was a man and he was strong and powerful and a Grimm. He wanted him in so many ways, but he wouldn't endanger the healing.
Gray eyes softened a little. As if Nick was reading his mind. There was still the spark of arousal there, but nothing imminent, nothing like the 'don't think just fuck' emotions of before. Nick was in no way up to anything in the sexual department and that realization caged the wolf abruptly. Even the inner animal wouldn't want this pain inflicted on his mate. Monroe had no intention at all to make him worse again.
They had time.
He brushed their lips together again.
"As much as I like this," Monroe rumbled, "I'd prefer the couch. You would, too."
The Grimm smiled; that small, infuriating smile. So knowing and so… Monroe sought for words. Nick smiling at him this way always gave him goosebumps because it said 'good boy' or 'thank you' in his own very warm way.
The smile didn't wipe away the pain or the exhaustion lingering deeply in him, but it reassured Monroe on a completely different level. Nick pushed away from the taller man. The blutbad almost groaned at the sight of a very ravaged looking Nick walking into the living room.
Damn his intentions to wait! he groused as his eyes fell on the butter-soft jeans stretching to enticingly tight in just the right places.
Somehow Nick ended up underneath him when they fell onto the couch, looking even more rumpled, even more debauched without even being so, and Monroe smiled wolfishly. Pun intended.
"What?" Nick demanded, a bit snappishly because of the look.
"Nothing. I just figured out what my favorite sight of you is." Monroe's smile grew. "Aside from the no-clothes-on one, that is. Because I think that is going to be a very much number one favorite soon."
"Ah."
The Grimm reached up and buried one hand in the longish hair. "I think I like the view from here just fine, too. You planning on doing something about it?"
"About what?"
"Being all hot and bothered?"
Monroe chuckled. "Right now? No."
"Monroe, I'm fine…"
"One more word and I'll end this right here and right now!" he growled.
Nick gazed up at him, face calm, serious. The hard edge in his eyes was back and it gave Monroe the shivers. Strong fingers caressed his jaw, his beard, down his neck, along his tendons and veins.
"I'm not made of glass, Monroe."
No. Definitely not.
"I won't hurt you. Not like this, Nick. Never like this or otherwise."
That hand, gentle and tender as it ran through his hair, was distracting. "I know," he said softly, emotions shining in his eyes.
Monroe shied away from them, cursing, but then he just concentrated on his Grimm, tasting the skin he had yearned to touch for so long. It was like water for a drowning man. His teeth scraped over the smooth neck and left a mark that had Nick hitch a breath.
He wanted to do more, bite harder, leave a hickey blutbad style that told everyone that the Grimm belonged to him, that he would fight for this. Nothing would take this man from him. Not even Angelina. If she ever came back, Monroe wouldn't fall for her again.
Never again.
He licked over the mark, savoring the taste of Nick, the wildness inside him rising with the hunger for more. Mine,
Not now; not their first time. And never out of control.
Still, the chant continued, from behind that closed door, sounding happy and ecstatic. Mine. Mine alone. My Grimm.
Nick smiled, nipping at Monroe's lips. "As long as you want."
He clamped down on that tasty mouth and silenced him, aside from the low key moans and sighs.
His alone. His Grimm. Mine!
He would take his time; no wild rush, no running and chasing. The chase had already happened, had been different, was new. He hadn't brought down the Grimm; the Grimm had roped him in.
His Grimm. His Nick.
Monroe nearly lost it when Nick's hands were under his clothes, stroking over his skin. He whimpered when the strong fingers brushed over sensitive nerves, teased and aroused, and he pulled back, breathing hard, looking into the equally aroused eyes of the other man.
"Monroe…"
It was a plea and an absolution in one. Nick wanted him and he wanted this man so badly, it hurt. With an immense effort he pulled back.
"When you get the all clear," he said roughly.
Nick stared at him as if he had lost his mind, but Monroe wouldn't gamble with the Grimm's health. He wouldn't make this worse. Nick needed to get back on his feet, needed to be one hundred and ten percent in his job.
Burying his head in the crook of the Grimm's neck, he exhaled sharply.
"Please," he begged.
He had no idea who he was talking to. Nick or himself. It was a plea to stop, not push him any further, accept that this couldn't be right now…
"…please…"
Strong fingers carded into his hair, massaging gently. He inhaled the familiar scent of the other man, let it soothe him, though it was just as arousing, too.
"When I get the all clear," Nick murmured.
It was a promise.
Monroe held him as they arranged themselves on the couch, savoring the full body contact, the shared heat. Nick let a hand rest on the warm skin under Monroe's shirt, smiling lazily. He had to kiss him again, addicted to this man in all the best ways.
Nick hummed softly and Monroe rested one hand protectively over the scar, then closed his eyes, letting the Grimm's presence lull him into a doze.
Mine…
tbc...