Disclaimer: I don't own "Grimm" or any of the show's characters, wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1: When I started this, it was supposed to go in a different direction altogether. But I found that story didn't want to be written. So, I let this take me where it did.
Warnings: temporary gender swap, transformation, magical shenanigans, angst, hurt/comfort, first time, romantic tension, sexual tension, animal traits and behaviors, canon typical violence, mild sexual content.
Mélange
Chapter Four
He snarled when Nick slammed him against the wall. Almost missing his lips with a brutal kiss. Tasting stale coffee, desperation, and rage. A bouquet that told him Nick was still angry, but that this was more about confused want.
Join the fucking club, he supposed.
Nick's fingers dug into his arms, sinking blunt nails. Eyes dark. Challenging him. But they weren't Grimm eyes. They were just Nick. Nick who was tipping his chin defiantly. Nick who was inadvertently showing his throat. Nick who wanted this just as much as he did. And frankly- his better judgement blew out the god damned window.
He pushed forward, ducking to bite a kiss of his own. Growling as Nick's hand tugged through his hair. Finding all those forgotten places. The spots that made you arch and want to howl because its that fucking good and you've never stopped being hungry for it.
He shouldn't have been surprised. He'd been hoarding Nick and all his inches for years now. The little touches. The dinners. The cases. The late night research. And now all that threatened to eat him alive.
Nick mouthed at his lower lip, straining to reach. And, predictably, that just made it hotter. Making it easy to crowd him out of the bathroom, towards the chair beside his bed. He bared his teeth, living for the surprised hiccup when he hiked Nick up so they were nose to nose. Playing a dangerous game with gravity as Nick wobbled on top of the chair-back, trying to get at him. Hands grabby. Towel long gone.
But they didn't have time for that.
Instead, he pushed Nick backwards. Sending him sprawling over the chair and onto the bed. He leaped after him, flattening him to the blankets. Tucking his nose into the curl of his throat, teeth dragging.
Nick hissed, yanking at his hair as his hips ground up. Meeting his. Pleasure hazing through him as his cock pressed against his zipper. Making them both groan as he gave as much back. Enjoying the friction. Enjoying the way Nick's head thumped back, showing his throat.
The things he wanted to do to him were filthy and could fill a fucking book. But for some reason, he settled on the zipper of Nick's jeans - tugging. Getting a full body shiver when his hand curled around the humid slick of his cock.
Nick's back arched, cock firming in his hand. Twitching and almost wet.
Holy fuck.
He found a rhythm that made Nick squirm and stuck to it. Drinking in the sounds he was making. The way he couldn't stay still. The way Nick was so wet he was pearling cum down the shaft. He growled when Nick scrabbled at him. Tugging at his skin, his arms, anything he could reach.
"M'roe," Nick hiccupped, voice hitching. Sloe-eyed and needy as he stared up at him. "Please."
He wanted to howl.
The scent of Nick's arousal was a living wreath around his head. He breathed it in, panting, high off the hormones. Anchoring himself to how thick and good pleasure made Nick's scent. Snarling at the wet sound as he jacked him off. Brushing the tip with the edge of his thumb until Nick whimpered, inner thighs trembling, before-
Nick was gone when he woke up.
It was barely dawn. The perfect time to overthink absolutely everything as he levered himself off the mattress. Not having to rely on scent or blutbad hearing to know the Grimm was long gone. Leaving him with a dry mouth, pillow indents like stress lines, and the uncomfortable thought that he might have forced something Nick wasn't ready for.
You could say it was a rough few days after that.
Much like the start of all this, the knock didn't catch him off guard.
He knew it was Nick, even when he slowed in front of the house, did a u-turn, then parked half a block away. And it wasn't just his scent either. It was the familiar way he walked. The determined beat of his pulse. The clink-clink of a six-pack peace offering. Or ice breaker. Or- whatever.
Either way, he was here.
By the time he opened the door he was stupid enough to have gotten his hopes up.
"Hey," Nick greeted, holding up the beer. Like they'd texted about meeting up rather than ghosting each other for almost three days.
"Hey," he returned, sniffing the air. Surprised. "You went to Uthers?"
"It's your favorite," Nick returned simply. Like it was obvious and meant nothing instead of being one of those little things that actually meant everything.
He opened the door wider, tongue tripping on everything he wanted to say before he gave up and stepped back. Giving Nick room to come inside and shut the door. Bringing the scent of fall and anxiety with him.
It was sad how much he related.
He let Nick wander into the kitchen. Cracking two of the beers before putting the rest in the fridge. He listened from the living room. Not wanting to crowd him or make assumptions. And, eventually, they settled on either side of the couch, beer in hand. Staring at each other from a careful, non-molestable distance.
He politely, silently, hated it.
Nick lifted his eyes from his beer, found him staring, then looked back down again.
He took swig from the bottle to break the still. Bubbly hops immediately zinging through his sinuses. Trickling and sharp. Making him want to sneeze. He didn't. But he thought about it. He thought about a lot of things.
Nick shifted, pinging couch springs. Following his example by taking a drink. Then another. He matched him. Drinking too fast to actually enjoy the microbrew they'd discovered together. Deciding to get a drink to celebrate when a case wrapped up without a punch being thrown. Uthers quickly became the place they went nine times out of ten.
There was a red mark on Nick's neck. Barely visible past the collar of his shirt. He wanted to touch it. He wanted to peel it back and see if it was his. And if it wasn't, he wanted to make it his. He wanted-
Nick's eyes flicked up, like he knew what he was thinking. Gaze dropping from his eyes, to somewhere near his mouth. Reminding him of when he'd dragged his lips across the Grimm's cheek. Rasping stubble and too sharp teeth as Nick's hips jumped. Mouth open, trying to recapture his. Breathing hard as-
He cleared his throat, draining the last of his beer. Nose twitching at the need to burp. He forced it back, suffering through the tightness in his throat. Not wanting to cheapen the moment. Which was saying something, considering he still didn't know what this was about.
Nick fiddled with the label on his beer.
The silence was deafening.
He sighed, dragging a hand down his face.
He was too fucking old to be this awkward or feel this young.
"I found out something about the mirror," Nick blurted.
He blinked.
That- that wasn't where he thought this was going.
"Okay," he replied slowly. Not sure if he was relieved or disappointed as the conversation took a trip into shitty prequel territory.
"Yeah," Nick affirmed, meeting his eyes this time as he leaned forward. "There was a section about it in one of Marie's journals. It was the one I was reading. I mean, of course it was, right? Anyway... You shouldn't have been able to tell the difference."
"What?" he questioned. Absolutely confused this time. "The difference between what?"
But Nick didn't seem interested in telling him. Instead, he was looking at him like-
Jesus.
"How?" Nick asked again, voice a mess of emotional pitches. Incredulous. Possessive. Hopeful. "How did you know it was me when you answered the door? You knew, didn't you? You smelled me coming. You opened the door. You said my name."
The empty bottle in his hand had grown warm to the touch. Clammy. But he didn't let go. He needed something to do with his hands.
"Because it was you," he answered mutely.
Nick shook his head.
"How? How did you know? Because that mirror was made specifically to hide a Grimm in plain sight. It was supposed to be a last-ditch sort of thing. When a Grimm was on a hunt and been made. It changed everything, even your scent. Marie never got it to work, but she figured out what our ancestors used it for. Somehow."
He sucked in a breath. Protective magic was a thing on its own. Blutbads didn't mess with it. They didn't need too. But from what he knew, there were only a few reasons protective magic wouldn't work as advertised. The spelled object had weakened due to use and age. Or- No. He shook his head. He'd heard his kind could smell their true mate anywhere. No matter what. But that was just an old den-tale, not real life.
The ironic part was that either was likely at this point. And, obviously, he couldn't trust his heart when it came to Nick. He knew what he wanted. But he didn't know what that want meant in the scheme of things. If it had to mean anything at all.
He almost barked a laugh.
This was his life?
"I'm trying to understand this," Nick told him, setting his beer on the coffee table. "And the more I think about it, the more complicated it gets. Look, I'm fine with complicated. It's kind of normal at this point. But I need to know. I want to know."
He wasn't sure Nick knew what he was asking for.
If they were thinking completely different things, or-
He took deep breath. Because there was a wary sort of electricity in the air again. Only now it was more dangerous. The kind one wrong move, one wrong word, would crumble. Aware that somehow, everything he wanted was balanced on a precariously thin edge.
"You never smelled like anything else," he said hoarsely, settling on mortified honesty. "I'd know you anywhere."
Nick's cheeks were pink, but he seized on the obvious immediately.
"Does that mean something?"
"I don't know," he answered, meaning it. Taking a beat for himself before letting go. Wondering how this, out of everything, could be the biggest risk he'd ever take. "But when you changed back? That was when I realized-"
His hand came out to encompass the evening, the closeness, the beers. All of it.
"It was your scent," he croaked, clearing his throat. Wondering how he could even begin to explain or get the words out right. Words he never thought he'd say, especially like this. "When you changed it was still your scent, just different. When you switched back, what made it different was gone. And I- I settled."
They'd been working up to this, he realized. It had just been a matter of bringing it together the right way.
"And that means something?" Nick pressed, suddenly on the edge of his seat. So close their knees were touching.
This time it was barely a question. Earnest and hopeful and exactly what he needed to hear.
He huffed a laugh for real this time. Unable to hold it in. Relief settling over his shoulders like a warm blanket on a cold day.
"Probably," he hummed, smiling helplessly when Nick grinned back. Warm and right and very much his.
His.
He opened his mouth, about to ask something he didn't have much experience doing. But Nick beat him to it.
"How about we do dinner?" Nick asked. Knuckling the back of his head with a shy smile that promised everything - anything he wanted - all at the same time.
The last of the anxiety he'd been holding onto deflated like a balloon lost in his chest.
He laughed, socks rubbing into the carpet as Nick's smile went all the way to his eyes.
"Yeah, I could do dinner."
His darker parts rumbled when Nick got up and put his hand on his shoulder. Squeezing meaningfully. Smiling, warm and a bit closer than he needed to be until the moment ended and Nick followed him into the hall to grab jackets and keys.
Neither of them had to say that this wasn't going to be like the other dinners they shared.
It was more.
A new sort of beginning
He had no idea what he was doing, but he was hungry for every bit of it.
Because maybe he didn't need to choose between what he needed and what he wanted.
Maybe he could have both.
Either way, he had a feeling they'd get exactly where they were meant to be.
Eventually.
A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. – This story is now complete.