Tumblr about my stories: JaimiStoryTeller
Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
Lots of thanks to NoOrdinarySouthernGirl for all of her help
James' POV
In the weeks following, life seemed to fall into a pattern once more. While they seemed to be a bit closer than when they had lived with Jim and Sebastian, there still seems to be a distance between them. It's not the same type of distance as when he first got back but it's still there. Often times when his mate would greet any of the five, he would scent them, not always touching his nose to their neck, but definitely dragging in their scent yet he cannot recall John doing the same with him.
On days his mate works at the café, he often goes with him, mostly to watch as his love works with the vast amount of people who come through the place regularly. Now that he is feeling a better, he is finding simple joy in just watching his mate. The younger man is so very affectionate, knowing all of his regular customers and their families, asking after them, helping those who are on limited incomes by selling them day old bread products for only a fraction of the price or even giving them to some folks. Those who are willing to be his test subjects for new items he is designing also get discounts. He can easily see the pleasure and happiness that the café brings his mate, making him even surer that he made the right choice in staying in London rather than forcing John to move to the country.
Depending on which shelter his love works at is whether he is welcome inside or not. Some of the shelters do not like alphas in them, not even bonded alphas, and prefer to allow only omegas or betas within their walls for safety measures. The guards which seem to be with John at all but three of the shelters, change up depending on which one they are at, and he slowly gets to know each of them, discovering that most of those who work towards his mate's protection used to live in the shelters at one point and his mate had helped them get on their feet. Most of those within the shelters seem to love his mate as well, often hugging and carefully scenting him before parting ways.
Again he notices his mate allows this but never scents him.
Exactly one month after they had moved into the flat, at the beginning of John's fourth month of pregnancy, they hosted a dinner for friends and close family. It was done as a flat warming and his introduction to the remaining members he had not previously met. To say it was a bit overwhelming would be an understatement. At one point he had retreated to the top of the steps, staring down at the various people below. All of which care greatly about his mate, some even more than him it seems, making his depression flare up and him feel incompetent.
"Hello James," a soft voice greets him as the older omega identified as Greg's mum settles on the step next to him. "It's a bit much for you, I think," she murmurs as she studies him.
For several minutes they sit there in silence while he waits for whatever it is she wants.
"This is the happiest I have seen John in year," there is pleasure in her tone as she says this. "He is thrilled to have you home. Now I am going to give you some motherly advice: stop worrying so much. He chooses to stay with you because he loves you and has for years." She smiles fondly before continuing, "I can still remember when he came to me to ask what it means when his legs wanted to buckle at just your scent. I can remember our conversation before your bonding when he was worried he would do something wrong. And I remember the way he had to be restrained after the bombing that caused the difficulties you two are currently facing. You were in surgery and they wouldn't let him in," she shakes her head chuckling, "He pulled rank on those nurses and most of the doctors too. When you crashed they sedated him. Boy were his protectors pissed about that. I believe the nurse who actually gave him the shot was deported, because his health is something those five take seriously."
He says nothing, simply absorbing the information, he had not known that John was in the same building as him, hadn't know that his mate tried to get to his side. Nor had he known that his mate's body had wanted to submit the first time they met. He had hoped, but not known. It's still easy to remember him, a slightly rounder faced teenager with sparkling yet wary eyes asking what he could do for him, remember the early days where he would see him once or twice a week, never telling the young omega the only reason he bothered with lunch was to see him. That he learned what days he would be there for the same reason.
Quietly, almost inaudible he confesses, "He may love me, but I doubt he wants me outside of his heat."
"Poppycock." She retorts, "He's concerned that you do not want him outside of his heat. That boy has never taken a causal lover a day in his life. He shared his heats with Greg prior to your bonding, but there was nothing outside of his heats, then you were only ever home during his heats, I do not even know if he understands that its perfect acceptable to do anything outside of heats."
He can do nothing more than stare at her. Could she be right? Could it be that John has not tried anything more than cuddling because he does not know how? Then it would be up to him to show him. What if he had damaged their relationship by not knowing or understanding that? He's forty-one for God's sake, he should have realized.
"Now then, not tonight because he will be exhausted from playing host, but soon, sit down and talk with him. Blush your way through it if you must, but actually discuss whether you two want a physical relationship outside of heats." She orders him, "You'll both feel better for it."
After thinking about it for a long time, he nods slowly.
"Good, I am going to rejoin everyone downstairs, you come down when you're feeling better, none of us will hold it against you." She tells him before heading down the steps and leaving him to his thoughts once more.
Nearly another hour passes before he finally feels as if he can rejoin the others. The moment he does so, his mate is at his side, blue-gray eyes looking at him worriedly. Smiling reassuringly, he presses his lips gently to his forehead before lightly looping an arm around his waist. The gathering lasted for another hour or so before everyone leaves, though he was amazed when he discovered that the Lestrade women had helped John to clean up all of the food and dishes.
It would be another week before his mate would have a day off from working at the café and the shelters. After checking with him the night before to make sure he had no plans, he makes a plan of his own, from the minute he wakes up until they hopefully fall asleep in each other's arms. He even sends out a text to the group of five that they will be unavailable the next day. Sending it twice to Sherlock just to make sure he gets the point.
In the morning he is the first one awake, as is normal. He spends the first ten minutes just studying his mate, enjoying the way the predawn light plays over his light tan skin and blonde hair. Eventually he slips out of bed, gently pressing his lips to John's forehead and telling him to go back to sleep when he starts to stir. Once he is sure his mate has done just that, he slips out of the room, and heads to the shower to get cleaned up. When presenting oneself to a lover, it is best to do so without body odor. After he is done in the bathroom, he only puts on light sleeping bottoms, forgoing his normal long sleeve shirt. His mate's reaction to seeing him without a shirt should give him a fairly good idea how John is going to respond to his question at lunch time.
Nodding to himself, he sets to making breakfast. Carefully wracking his brain to make sure he remembers all of is mate's favorites. As they are cooking, he gets out the serving tray he had discovered in the cupboard, before pouring a glass of orange juice and a second full of grape. Lately his mate has liked one than the other. Next up, he puts the silverware on there, frowning because he feels like he is missing something when he remembers the cooking food. Blushing and happy that his omega is not in the room to see him nearly fail so miserably, he manages to get the food onto plates before it burns.
Plates with favorite foods, silverware, juice, what am I missing? He thinks as he studies the plate critically. Since discovering his pregnancy his mate had chosen to stop drinking tea rather than drink caffeine free ones from the store, but he had bought him some fruit flavored ones so maybe he would like that with breakfast? Orange juice and grape juice, hmmm, mango citrus he decides. Quickly he makes it up and settles it on the tray before doing one last look over. Smiling in satisfaction, he carefully lifts the rather full tray, heading through the flat and upstairs to their room.
In the room he sets it on his end table since it is emptier before going around to the other side of the bed to gently kiss his love awake. Sleepily, the younger man responds, making little frustrated noises when he withdraws as he feels him waking up.
"I have breakfast for you," he informs him softly, smiling hesitantly because he is trying to spoil John just a little.
Sitting up and rubbing his eyes for a moment, the blonde blinks at him a few times, repeating, "Breakfast?"
Instead of answering aloud, he sets his plate and juice aside before carrying the tray to the other side of the bed and carefully settling it on the younger man's lap. Focusing on the bond as much as his visual reactions, he is relieved that his omega seems pleased with his offering. Retreating to his side of the bed, he nibbles at his breakfast while keeping track of his reactions. The entire meal is spent in companionable silence though there seems to be something in the air. After breakfast, he takes all the dishes downstairs, placing all of them in the dishwasher but not turning it on yet. The tea was a success so he plans to get more of them for his mate to enjoy.
Hurrying back upstairs and nearly tripping on the stairs because he is distracted, he runs a nice, hot bath, putting a few bath salts in it that are supposed to relax the body but are nearly scentless. He might wish to try being intimate with his mate but that does not mean he is not aware of the risks that can come with it.
Returning to their bedroom, he finds his mate sitting on the edge of the bed, legs thrown over the side, hands resting on his knees, and a thoughtful expression on his face.
"I drew a bath for you, if you want it," he offers.
Giving him a curious look, his mate inquires, "Are you joining me?"
Flushing, because he had not expected that, he babbles, "I umm took one already but thought you might enjoy one." he can feel the blush growing brighter as he embarrasses himself not being able to answer directly.
Smiling slightly, brow furled in question, his mate nods once before standing up and heading to the bathroom.
When he hears him climb into the tub a few minutes later, he sets to making the bed before digging out of his side of the closet the small collection of supplies he had bought for this purpose. After checking the bond and finding that his mate is simply relaxed right now, he sets the body oil off to the side on his end table before putting the lube and condoms in the drawer. He does not personally think they need the condoms, but perhaps his mate will, so it is best to be safe than sorry. Once everything is in place, he decides to go see if John would like anything.
Lifting his hand at the bathroom door, he chides himself for being hesitant, this is not his first seduction after all, but it is the first one that means something, his mind retorts.
"John? Do you need anything?" he inquires politely through the door not sure which answer he would prefer.
He is just getting ready to consider finding something, anything to do with not thinking about his mate naked in the tub when the younger man answers, "Ummmm, I'd appreciate it if you could scrub my back," there is both embarrassment and hopefulness in his tone, "It's not quite as easy to reach at the moment." his mate's voice trails off.
Squaring his shoulders, he eyes the door with the same determination as he would have given a war room discussion.
Alright, back washing, he can do this. It was a clear invitation into the bathroom so open the damned door already and stop acting like a recently presented alpha, his mind yells at him. Open the door, walk through the door, kneel beside the tub, and use flannel to scrub his back. It is not difficult, get to it James, his internal alpha orders, this is not as bad as having to take apart a bomb. Come on, through the door. That is step one.
Closing his eyes, he finally grabs the handle and opens the door. When he opens his eyes again he is presented with a mouthwatering scene. His mate is seated in the tub with the water coming up just above the middle of his torso. From the droplets running down his upper torso and the wet hair, he had laid down at least for a few minutes in the water. Possessively, his eyes trace the path of a drop of water that falls from his short bangs, down his cheek, before falling to the very slight swell of his mate's stomach and their pup. Their pup. He's the only person who has ever seen his mate like this, wet from a bath and pregnant. He'll remain the only person to ever see this because he's his. There will be no sharing with a younger alpha, no being replaced.
He is barely aware of the growl that rumbles from his chest except for the sudden stillness that John portrays. Blue-gray eyes slowly turning to him and watching him with nearly unreadable emotions.
Internally yelling at himself, he smiles at his mate in a manner he is hoping is reassuring, before crossing the room to kneel beside the tub. The entire time he can feel the younger man's eyes on him, causing his skin to heat in a blush at that spectacular loss of control. It's not a good thing to growl at one's mate, his mum taught him. Focusing on the bond and keeping his scent relaxed, he carefully reaches for the flannel, making sure not to make any sudden actions because he does not want to startle him. That would defeat the purpose of a relaxing bath.
John's emotional state is all over the place right now. Thankfully though, disgust is not one of the emotions.
Fondly he states, "In order to wash your back, it needs to be towards me so I do not miss a spot."
Blushing, his mate turns, straightening in the tub, and presenting his back to him.
Slow and carefully, he takes his time washing every centimeter of his omega's skin presented to him from the tops of his shoulders, down the curve of his spine to the hollow dip just above his firm ass. He appreciates every solid centimeter, the way his bones have just the slightest layer of muscle and fat, a healthy firmness. Several minutes are spent delicately washing the bond bite at the base of his mate's neck. Swallowing hard, he stops himself from leaning forward to press his lips against the smooth expanse of skin only broken by his bite mark.
When he has covered every part of his mate's back twice, he allows his hand to fall away but remains seated on his knees studying the younger man's profile. How did he get such a handsome omega in his life? One who is loyal, kind hearted, determined, and intelligent? Hopefully he never cocks it up as bad as he has in the last few years again. He continues to hold still looking just past his mate as the younger man turns towards him. That possessive feeling is rising up once more, making his chest tight and him want to lock every single entry into the flat, curl around his mate protectively in bed and keep all interlopers away. He'll take care of his omega, make sure he has everything he needs, food, blankets, cuddles, anything at all.
"James?" he is drawn out of his thoughts by a rather cautious-sounding John, "Is everything," there is a pause while his mate searches for the right word, "alright?"
Giving a small shake of his head, he nods once answering, "I, umm yes of course," he feels confused and frustrated. His nature has never been this possessive before.
Blinking slowly, the younger man remarks, "Alright, I thought for a bit there you might be going through the alpha nesting, a less spoken of, but still perfectly normal part of a bonded alpha-omega couples pregnancy."
He files the information away for when his mate is at work to look it up.
His hand is still resting in the warm water, it would be so easy to just reach out and brush his fingers against his mate's skin, feel the smoothness beneath his fingertips, the heartbeat strumming through his chest. However he stops himself, they need to talk first, he was given pretty clear orders, and as a soldier he knows how to follow orders. Several times he feels his mouth open as he considers asking him now, but decides to follow the plan instead. Of course the plan did not have him kneeling on the bathroom floor admiring his mate.
"Are you enjoying the bath?" he eventually inquires, blushing at husky tone in which his voice seems to have taken.
With his skin a slight pink from the steam of the water, the only thing that gives away his slight embarrassment is the very light scent in the air as his mate nods once.
"When you are done would you like a hot tea and a back rub?" he queries quietly, eyes firmly locked onto his mate's face.
After studying him for several long minutes during which time he began to wonder whether his touch was even welcome, the younger man nods once.
"That would be nice," the omega answers him with a small smile.
Rising slowly, he inclines his head before withdrawing from the bathroom and heading straight to the kitchen to start the water, resting his elbows on the counter and his head in his hands. Self-control, he orders himself, is vital to the success of his goal. Straighten himself, he sets a fresh kettle to boil while absentmindedly fiddling with the waist band of his sleeping bottoms.
John did not seem to mind him in just the bottoms. The younger man's gaze was even, he hesitated to call it appreciative, but it was the only word he could come up with. There had been concern in his expression, but only when he growled, otherwise he had seemed pleased. Hopefully that is a sign his mate would be willing to do more than just slumber beside him.
Not long after the kettle starts to whistle he hears the tub start to drain, and sets to making the cup of tea, this time going with a heavy raspberry flavor. While he knows his mate prefers fresh teas, he only has the barest ability to make them, and none of the caffeine free fruit flavored ones so he will stick with the store bought ones for now. His ears perk as he hears the bathroom door open, the smaller man padding out of it and down the steps.
Turning, he smiles as he watches his mate enter the kitchen in his pants, sleeping bottoms and robe.
Hopefully by the end of the day he will not feel the need to wear that robe, he thinks to himself as he enjoys the way the robe highlights his mate's steady shoulders and toned chest.
"I put the massage oil on the night stand if you want to sit on the bed," he offers as he hands over the hot tea and sets to making himself a coffee from the nearly always full pot.
Uncertainty fills his mate's eyes for a few moments while he sips at his tea before he nods and turns to go back up the stairs into their room.
As the younger man walks away he admires the view, enjoying the firmness of his ass and solidness of his movement. There are no wasted motions, in many ways his mate reminds him either of a fight or a dancer, possibly both. He should ask his mate about that sometime.
After downing his coffee in two long drinks, he washes his hands before heading upstairs. Perched on the edge of their bed is his mate, his one leg hanging over the edge while the other is tucked up under him, his robe pulled tight around him.
Checking the bond he is happy to discover that his mate is only nervous, nothing else, he can work with nervous. Grabbing the oil, he settles behind the smaller man but not in his space, wishing to let him adjust to his presence first. When he finally can feel him start to relax, he gently sets his hand on his mates shoulder
"With or without the robe?" he inquires lightly, trying not to put pressure on the younger man.
Several seconds pass in silence while the smaller man considers those options. Slowly, his hands lift and untie his robe, letting it fall open but not off. He understands the invitation and the challenge. Gently, he lays his other hand on his other shoulder before sliding his fingers slowly to the collar before leisurely pushing it down and off, allowing it to pool around his waist again. He is pleased his mate's back is to him for the moment because the expression on his face is nearly feral and he takes a moment to control his emotions once more before he leans forward and gently presses his lips to the bond bite for a brief moment before straightening up and pouring a little bit of oil on his hands to warm. With firm yet tender strokes he sets to working every kink and knotted muscle out of his mates back.
He delights in every little sigh and low noise that escapes the younger man's lips. Minutes pass with the only sounds between them being their breathing, and the small needy sounds that his mate is making. Each noise sends a shot of desire through his system, enough so he can he notice the scent beginning to fill the room, so there is no way that the younger man cannot notice it.
When his mate is just about boneless in his hands, he carefully tugs him backwards so they are pressed stomach to back, his hands slowly rubbing small circles into his upper arms and part of his chest. For a long while the two of them stay like that, curled with more skin contact right now than they have ever had outside of his mate's heats.
"John?" he breathes against the rim of the smaller man's ear.
"Yes?" his mate's voice is low, breathless, a bit confused, and needy.
"Would you be willing to have," his mind searches for the right word, as he hesitantly tries to determine what to call it, "relations outside of your heat?" he asks. He had not wished to call it sex since he likes to think that there is more of a connection there, they've been mates for ten years after all, however he was leery of calling it making love because he thought that would put pressure on his mate. "Please think about it for a little bit before answering."
Twisting around in his grasp, the younger man's eyes search his face, looking for something he hopes he sees.
Glancing at the clock on the table side, he sees it is close to lunch time. So far the plan has worked out well, however he doesn't want to move from this spot with the younger man pressed against his chest. When his loves stomach starts to grumble, he sets him forward a bit, before sliding out from behind him and tugging him backwards lightly so that he will lay down. Drowsily, the smaller man does as he wants though there is a speculative look in his heavy lidded eyes as he does so. Kissing his mate's forehead, he slips out of the room quietly, heading downstairs to make them some lunch, well more John than himself, though he will have a small snack.
Once the plate of small sandwiches is made, he carries it upstairs, along with some more juice since that seems to be his mate's favorite drink right now.
He smiles at the sight of John curled on his side, head resting on a pillow, hands tucked under his chin.
"John, I brought lunch," he murmurs after kissing the smaller man's cheek.
Blinking sleepily as he sits up, his mate stretches for a bit before seeming to remember that he is self-conscious of the baby bump.
Sniffing the air, his mate gives him another searching look before nodding slowly.
"Sandwiches?" he offers the plate, hoping that his mental notes on which ones his mate prefers are correct.
Smiling, the smaller man takes the plate he is offering, glancing over the variety of little sandwiches before selecting a ham and cheddar cheese one to nibble one.
"These are good. Did you get bread from the café?" his mate inquires after eating his second one. "It tastes like fresh bread and I do not remember you being a baker."
He shakes his head, "Mrs. Hudson brought it over," he replies.
"Ah, she did teach me a few of my recipes and I taught her a few in exchange," the blonde remarks with a nod. His expression turns shy as he looks down at the remaining sandwiches, voice nearly inaudible as he asks, "Did you mean it?"
He is about to ask what when it strikes him like lightning. It is the first time they have ever discussed outside of heat sex and his mate thinks he is undesirable.
"I did," he answers honestly and solemnly, hoping his mate can smell his truth if not feel it.
"Why? You've not shown an interest before." There is genuine curiosity and confusion in his tone.
Gently taking the plate away, he sets it on the end table before tugging his mate onto his lap and cupping his face, bringing his gave up so they are eye-to-eye. "I've always been interest my John. I just hadn't realized you didn't know until recently. Not all omegas like to have relations outside of their heats," he explains quietly, sticking with the word 'relations' because it seemed to fit.
For what seems like hours but is in truth only seconds his mate stares at him with those questioning eyes, his scent full of emotions, just as the bond is echoing emotion as well.
Tentatively, the younger man's hand lifts from his lap to barely touch against the side of his face that has been scared.
He holds perfectly still, watching as his mate slowly touches him. Part of the ruined skin is sensitive, while other parts are dead. It is the first time someone other than himself or the doctors who treated him have touched it. Every touch is feather light, barely there as he traces over each centimeter, mapping every plane, curve, and dip.
Breathing shallowly, his tongue flicks out to wet his lips as his eyes drift shut. How is this one of the most erotic moments in his life?
His eyes barely open as he returns to watching his mate. It is the younger man's turn to wet his lips before worrying the lower lip in his teeth. Slowly his hands slip from the omegas face, down his throat to his shoulders, before skimming further down his arms than switching to lightly holding the younger man's hips.
Careful fingers move from his face further back to the area around his ears, tracing the backs of them before switching to tracing the rim and the front of his ears. Slowly his fingers skim down his jaw and his throat before stopping to rest just over the hollows on either side of his neck. Still worrying his lip, the tips of his fingers start to trace over his collarbone and shoulders. Swallowing, his mate's hands continue to carefully trace over his skin, now following all of the various scars on the top part of his torso.
John's touch is curious, gentle, caring but there is not pity in him. It surprises him, excites him, touches something deep within him, makes him want to pull him close and hold him.
Careful, light touches trace down his chest, still exploring the scars, but are more focused on the muscles beneath them. He finds that the touches are far more arousing than he expects. It's getting harder to ignore the urge to press the smaller man back and take what he wants. However today is not about his needs, it's about his mates and right now this is what his mate needs. He needs him still, needs him to be open and willing, needs him not to flinch or push him away. So that's what he is, he shoves the alpha down deep, ignoring his instincts howling at him to be the dominate one in this.
When his mate gets to the top of his sleeping bottoms, his hands shift to tracing his sides, the edge of his back, and his arms rather than toy with the top of his bottoms.
Checking their bond, he notices that his mate is nervous again. His mate is also aroused, confused, and unsure what he is supposed to do according to his emotions.
"John?" he murmurs huskily, "What's wrong love?"
He watches his mates throat work as he swallows, a small part of him wondering what that mouth would be like around him before he shoves it back down. Again, his alpha nature rebels, but he ignores it, this is not a time for his hormones to rule.
"I…" the younger man begins before his voice trails off, instead of answering, he buries his head against his throat, nose pressed against his scent gland much to his shock.
His mate never presses his nose against his scent gland. Something he has mourned privately on several occasions. Slipping his hands from his loves hips to his back, he slowly strokes him. He does not say anything, choosing instead to simply be there and wait for him to decide when he wants to speak. How had he not noticed his mate needed this closeness? His parents were affectionate with each other in private, how could have forgotten that it is necessary for bonds? Softly he presses his lips to his mate's forehead.
When his mate sits back, his mouth moving as if he is trying to say something, he lifts a hand to gently touch his cheek, "Just do whatever feels natural," he murmurs comfortingly, "If that's trail your fingers across my skin, that's all good, if its pressing your lips against my skin, that's good too. Follow your instincts John they'll not lead you wrong."
Several long minutes pass before his mate nods once. Nibbling on his lip, the smaller man presses his hands on his chest and gives a light push backwards, almost as if to see if he would go. Smiling reassuringly he allows himself to fall backwards, understanding that this is as much about trust as it is desire. His actions in the last few years thrown his trust into question but he has given his mate a perfect way to test it.
"I've always loved the fact your skin is darker tan than mine," the younger man hums as his hands go back to their exploration, "Always wondered if it was as warm as it looks. I can happily say that it is," his mate continues. Hesitantly, the smaller man leans over him and presses his lips to his collarbone and he gasps, startled by the rush of emotion that small contact has.
"John," he groans, his hands returning to where they were on his mate's hips but not gripping them, just resting there. He is certain that the younger man can feel how hard he is through his bottoms. Hopefully that does not worry the smaller man. He has no intention of action on that need until he is given clear permission.
Curiously, with the type of tentativeness he remembers from his own teenage years, the younger man sets to exploring every inch of his upper body with his hands, mouth, and nose. He is slow and cautious, often glancing at him for reassurance that he is doing the right thing, that his touch is welcome. With each glance he smiles encouragingly, at least he hopes it's encouragingly. At the moment he is not exactly sure of anything except he wants his mates hands on his skin, his lips grazing his flesh, his nose tracing paths against him as he learns what each lines scent.
How had he gone so long without this? It wasn't only good for John. Hopefully his mate would enjoy himself enough that he would want to repeat the process again.
Smaller hands make him gasp as they find his ticklish spots, groan as they tweak his nipples, arch as they follow his muscles down in a feathery touch before moving back upwards in a firmer touch. Those hands learn exactly what can take him apart and what can put him back together. Even more affecting is the lips that seem to be everywhere, small nibbles and licks at scars and learning which ones are sensitive and which are numb. Gentle pressure put on some spots to draw the blood to the surface, making him whimper in need.
Had someone told him that just his upper body being explored would have him teetering on the edge of orgasm, he would have laughed, his body has never been all that sensitive. Could it be the time spent apart and his body's way of trying to remind him never to do that again? He doesn't know.
"Please," he moans, not exactly sure what he is asking for, but knowing he needs something.
A mischievous smile starts to curve his lips as the younger man continues to work his way downwards. Only unlike previous times his hands do not stop at the top of his bottoms. Instead they skim over his clothes as they continue their path, making him arch into those hands, a never ending train of noises escaping his lips. Through his thin sleeping bottoms his mate rubs his legs, exploring them with the care that he gave his upper body, without ever touching the one place he really wants his mate to touch.
A small part of him wants to lift his hips so the bottoms can be easily pulled off, only John has shown no indication of wanting to do that. So he doesn't, instead gasping at how damn sensitive his body is currently feeling.
The first time the younger man brushes against him through his clothes, he arches and moans low in his throat, almost growling in need.
One very long moment passes as his mate freezes and stares at him with wide uncertain eyes.
"John!" he keens, his voice low and rumbling, aching with need.
Biting his lip in the most adorable fashion, his mate lightly brushes upwards on purpose, eyes watching his reactions intently as he strokes him through the cloth.
Later he would be embarrassed by the loss of control but for the moment he didn't bother fighting it as his release rushed through him, making a mess of his pants and sleeping bottoms, leaving him on the drowsy side, merely wanting to pull the younger man to him and fall asleep cuddling. One of the hands resting on his mates hips, shifts upwards slightly, gently tugging the younger man down beside him. His inner alpha glorying in the fact his mate got him off and willing curled up with him as he tucks his head on his shoulder, one small hand lightly resting on his chest.
After gently pressing his lips to his mates forehead, the younger man drifts off to sleep and he is not far behind.
So instead of doing a super long chapter, I am breaking it into two chapters, this chapter with its emotional realization and smut, and the next is nearly purely smut.