Alpha 4 - Chit-Chat
Reese stood in front of a steaming pot, one hand clasping the handle of a sauté pan, the other on a wooden spoon, stirring and flipping the mix of vegetables. Next to that on the stove was a pot of noodles, resting. Reese had a tune going, whistling lowly as he tapped his foot and his tail swayed to the beat. His ears were erect, alert to all the little sounds around him. The cuffs of his jacket were rolled up above his elbows and his shirt had lost a few more buttons, leaving only two still connected in the middle.
The rest of his get-up was tossed on the couch in the adjoining room. When he had entered the apartment, he'd found the white-on-black modern yet sparse setup somewhat fitting to Finch. It was mellow yet elegant. The floor was hardwood and the wide window had black shades drawn open across the expanse. The main room was the living room with a single love seat, flat screen television, white rectangular table with only a remote on it and a small book shelf. The kitchen was in a separate room down a short hallway. Across from it was a large master bedroom decorated in a black and burgundy layout.
Reese didn't bother to snoop around, relying solely on his newly enhanced senses. He couldn't prevent his physical form from changing as multiple thoughts of Finch flashed in his mind. He couldn't control how his tail lengthened, dragging on the floor as he walked, his whole body picking up the vibrations coming from the walls and all the surrounding apartments, his nose picking up the faintest scent of fresh local produce and foreign cuisine. He could hear the bustle outside and most definitely any electronic buzz from a wire setup for a camera or mic or even a trap.
Reese's hands paused and his right ear twitched towards the other room. He heard the lock being turned by a key, then the door sliding open. The very familiar sound of Finch's off-step made the plush, grizzled tail bat at the hard wood floor of the small kitchen, echoing the sound. Reese even let a small howl rise in his throat. The sound of his limping boss paused then continued, moving towards the sound of Reese's tail. Moments later his brown, spiky head moved through the threshold of the kitchen door with a wry smile, a facade almost. That changed the moment the pale eyes worked Reese's frame up from his tail to his ears, bringing a subtle, genuine smile to the usually serious face.
"Did the apron not suit you, Mr. Reese?" Finch asked endearingly as he stepped fully into the room and shed his overcoat onto the back of a chair.
"'Kiss the Cook', eh? Are you trying to tell me something, Finch?" Reese quipped as he turned both front burners off and set both pan and pot on the dormant back burners.
"Hmm," is all Finch offered in response as he gripped the sides of the chair with his head slightly bent down and his weight shifted to his left side.
Reese regarded him a moment, then moved up behind his boss. He placed both hands on the tense shoulders. Finch's head turned up instantly and his body stiffened even more, to a point Reese didn't think was possible. The large hands were shed from Finch's shoulders as the older man stepped aside, pulling the chair away from the table and offering to it Reese.
"No, no. Sit and I'll make the plates." Reese grabbed the chair from Finch and let his boss sit before pushing it in. As he turned back to the stove, he heard Finch whisper, though not out of his radius of hearing, "I'm not a woman." Reese smirked at that, well aware that he was preying on a paranoid, enigmatic older man. He just wanted to treat this secret man gently, although he might not agree entirely.
Reese started each bowl with some miso udon and then finished it with the vegetables he had resting. He laced his right arm with the bowls and managed two glasses of water in the other hand. He set a bowl before Finch with some water and set his own down at the other side of the square table. Before sitting, he went to the stove and poured some hot water into a mug and fashioned Finch some Sencha tea. He placed that before Finch and finally took his seat.
"A take on Houtou Udon?" Finch inquired as he swirled the cubed vegetables into the noodles.
"Of sorts. I'm no sous chef, so be gentle with me." Reese started to eat his with the chopsticks he placed beforehand.
Finch followed suit and the first few moments were absent of words. With half a bowl left, Reese picked his head up and regarded Finch with a raised brow. His boss was prodding a chunk of a carrot with a single stick, trying to impale it.
"You know how to use these right?" Reese waved his chopsticks at Finch.
Finch glanced up and let out a sigh as he set the chopsticks aside.
"I'm not a pro at it."
Reese couldn't help but laugh under his breath. He held a single stick up, profile view to Finch. Finch copied Reese by placing one stick in his hand like a pencil. Reese laid the other to rest between the pads of his thumb and index finger, flexing in a simple motion Finch tried to copy. The top stick fell off and he let out an agitated sigh.
"Let me," Reese said almost in a question. When Finch flicked his hand up, annoyed, Reese knew he had the okay and ventured behind Finch's chair. He lowered his arms over Finch's shoulders, feeling the older man tense. His large hand cupped Finch's while the other placed the sticks in the right position. He helped Finch get the correct motion down.
"Thank-you, Mr. Reese," Finch said quietly under his breath, trying to pull his hand away.
The half wolf guided Finch's hand to the still slightly steaming bowl and plucked a small orange chunk with some noodles. Finch leaned forward, taking the carrot into his mouth. He made a quiet, pleased sound in his throat with his eyes closed and a Cheshire cat smile curling his lips.
"That tastes amazing. How did you add that savory sweetness to it?"
Reese smirked. "You'll have to visit me more to find out for yourself," he responded, not exactly sure how he managed to concoct that flavor combination.
Tail swiping the floor continuously in a timed motion, Reese watched as Finch managed a few more pieces on his own. A fast learner, Reese teased himself.
Watching the stiff fingers accustomed to tapping away at the keys of a keyboard work the finesse of chopsticks, Reese leaned closer, just barely brushing his lips to Finch's ear. The simple contact made his body react instantly. Heat coursed through his body, his veins, working from his thumping heart to the throb between his legs. This was no good, he had to put some distance between them. He quickly pulled himself to his feet and slyly slipped into his seat. He patted his lap, a vain attempt to calm the burning ache. The best way he knew how to relieve a problem was to confront it directly, so, he struck up a leisurely conversation.
"Any hits on that tattoo?"
Finch only glanced up from under his glasses, slurping a noodle into his mouth.
"Not yet. The specific N-Y combination looks like a signature from New York, so that's a start. Did you find anything else in the house?"
Reese shook his head, tipping his bowl up to slurp the broth. When he set the bowl back down, he had those pale blue eyes scouring his entire being. He felt the burning gaze on his hands first, analyzing the sharp yet short claws, then up to his face, his foggy gray eyes and glistening white fangs, lastly up to his messy, grizzled hair where the two, adult sized ears twitched involuntarily.
"Something wrong?" he finally asked his boss.
Finch seemed to snap back to reality and lifted the bowl to his face to take a sip of the broth himself. When he set it down, he seemed somewhat composed again.
"Are you having troubles controlling your appearance?"
Reese just swiped his nose and thought quietly in the back of his mind. Only when you're around.
"Yeah. Whenever I get around women, it gets harder to control. Any ideas?" He gave Finch a textbook puppy-dog look that struck home.
Finch let himself drown in those foggy eyes before jerking his head away to eye the swirl of noodles and vegetable still left in his bowl. He cleared his throat and rolled his eyes up while moving his lips, recalling what information he had dug up on this strange transformation.
"Ah, yes. Well, have you participated in any sexual intercourse recently, regularly, even?"
Reese swallowed hard, hating how the water caught in his throat and made him cough. He lifted his head to Finch with a hard, tight lipped glare. Under his breath, he growled, "You hardly give me any time to build a relationship with anyone."
Finch let a hurt smile creep across his face, but it faded just as quickly. "Have you been taking care of yourself, then?"
A deep sound vibrated in Reese's throat, the half wolf growing more and more unable to resist blurting out and acting on his affection for his seemingly oblivious boss. But, he calmed himself enough to snarl, "Barely. Are you offering yourself?"
One of Finch's eyebrows twitched at the thought being proposed by Reese. He chewed at his lower lip, his hands suddenly shaking as he reached for his tea. He raised the cup to his lips and took a long, slow sip. The lukewarm liquid slipped down his throat not as satisfyingly as he had hoped. It didn't make Reese disappear, or his heart stop pounding insanely hard against his chest. He had lowered his eyes to the table to let a calmer sense wash over him to deal with his teasing employee. When he lifted his gaze back up, mug still pressed to his lips, Reese's dark, glowing wolf-eyes had softened. Reese made a whimpering sound and cupped Finch's trembling hands, setting the mug to the table. His calloused hands were gentle, forming easily to Finch's and not pressing too intrusively. His thumbs even carefully stroked the back of each of Finch's hands consolingly.
With a fleeting blush heating his cheeks, Finch tried to distract Reese.
"Ah," he cleared his throat, "you have a higher need for it than human. Because humans interact sexually for pleasure, and animals for mating reasons, when you mix the two, it becomes a demand your body has to fulfill rather than a want to be satisfied. Also, the upcoming full moon will make you experience the effects of an animal in heat. Before you return to the Millers, Mr. Reese, try to maintain it a bit."
Reese's hands slipped from Finch's to the table where he racked his claws against the stained wood. Evenly, in rhythm with each other, he tapped out the sequence of each finger hitting the wood in quick succession. Finch instantly noticed the tension of Reese mulling over the information and pushed back his chair, bowl and water glass in hand. Reese's head instantly darted up and he stood as well, swinging inhumanly fast around the table, He reared up behind Finch, swiping the bowl and glass from him. Their bodies touched fully for a brief moment that took Finch's breath away. He could make out Reese's figure pressed so close to his own. This man was tall, muscle hidden beneath taut, tanned skin. Finch had seen Reese in action, expressing and utilizing his strength; but, right now, he could feel it, and he wished he didn't have to conjure this feeling up by memory later. He wanted the feeling to linger on him, stay real. But nothing ever lasts as he hopes; he had experienced that first hand too many times.
Reese spun around to the sink and set both in the basin, flicking on the hot water and pouring a little dish soup in the mix. He quietly returned to the table and retrieved his own plates, leaving Finch with his cooling tea. When the dropped his plates into the sink and turned the now searing hot water off, Finch brushed up against his side, reaching across the sink and in front of Reese to grab two towels. He wanted more of that contact, more of Reese's body on his own.
"Don't forget the pans," Finch hummed softly as he laid out a towel on the counter and tossed the other over his hand, ready to dry dishes. Their shoulders brushed lightly, just enough to satisfy Finch but only enough to make a distraction for Reese.
Reese nodded and sunk his hands into the searing hot water. Finch cringed at the heat swirling off the top layer of water and reached for Reese's forearms, pulling both hands out of the hot water. He then turned the cold water on while he inspected Reese's hands and arms.
"Are you trying to harm yourself?"
Reese shook his head, his body growing hot from the skin on skin contact. Finch looked his hands over twice and even tested the skin by running his hands along it. All he felt was purely Reese, no burns, no abnormalities.
"Well, your skin and endurance of pain has grown rather strong. I had no idea this was... an effect. Mr. Reese?" Finch trailed off, his voice fading as Reese took a step closer and craned his head slightly to the side, preparing for a kiss.
Reese felt the conflict going on inside him, trying to keep this affection quiet and away from Finch. But, in that moment, the only thing he could do was take Finch's hands in his own and lean in, closing the distance between them. Finch was still and rigid when their lips touched. He wasn't sure how to react. Reese made a muffled sound against Finch's lips, like a groan to the contact although it was only one sided. His weight shifted and Finch was pinned to the counter, his lips a slave to Reese's. Reese didn't really care that Finch wasn't reacting physically, because he felt the tattoo of Finch's pounding heart against his chest and it only made him hungrier.
Finch froze. His mind registered things slowly, the soothing feel of Reese's thumbs kneading the inside of his palms, his body transferring a warm, protecting feeling, his velvet lips, brushing over his own, creating a hot friction. Those lips, so unforgivingly soft and welcoming – Finch's hands tensed around Reese's and he jerked away with a pained sound escaping his lips. Reese's body left his in an instant, fearful of what he had just done. The half wolf stumbled backwards, a victim of his height and weight, knocking over a chair and hitting the wall, leaning against it for all of its support.
Finch stood up straight, his hand curled into a fist against his chest. He was nervous and his lower lip trembled uncharacteristically. Finch was a strong man, a very capable man, but he stood there, eyes blank, lips parted and his breaths shallow.
"Finch," Reese started but his senses caught something unusual. It was scent coming from Finch. He took a whiff then snarled, bringing his body to height and sauntering to Finch. He lifted Finch's chin easily and looked deep inside his eyes. He didn't smell fear anymore, it was lust and it showed in the glazed pale blue eyes.
"You just, ahem, can't control it, as to be expected. Let's finish cleaning up." Finch tried to turn away from Reese. Not surprisingly, Reese caught him by his arm and turned him back around, face to face. The glow in the gray eyes was petrifying, something you couldn't escape from.
"But you can control it, Finch," Reese stated blatantly as he worked his leg up between Finch's.
A satisfied sigh escaped his lips as Finch's erection pressed against his leg and even gave a slight throb on contact. He cupped the back of Finch's head and rested his chin in the spiked brown hair, inhaling the mix of Finch's scents, his normal scent and cologne, tea, and overwhelming lust. He spread his free hand along the middle of Finch's back as support as he savored the long awaited moment when Finch crumbled in his arms. Quietly he whispered a single word into Finch's hair over and over, "Finally."
Finch faltered against Reese with a breathless gasp. His fists balled into the white dress shirt and his legs trembled. He felt Reese's lips press to the top of his head and whisper something too quietly to make out. The strong arms slipped from their places to loop around his shoulders but were rejected as Finch lashed out, shoving at Reese's chest. Reese stepped back with the applied force, not wanting to hurt Finch as he strained himself. Finch slumped back against the counter, shaking, eyes quivering, his glasses offset.
"It's a natural response considering how long it has been!" Finch spat in an exasperated pant.
Finch pushed himself to his feet and limped to the overturned chair, staring at his coat on the floor and deciding to leave it before storming out of the apartment. Reese was left hurt and unsure if he should follow. He wanted to chase Finch, for the thrill, to fill the need he had to make Finch his own. But some part of him knew Finch was a delicate matter and needed gentle care, not forced feelings.
"What the fuck was I thinking?" Reese scolded himself as he returned to the sink and sank his hands in to the adjusted warm water. He cleaned the dishes with an empty mind. He set the extra food aside in the fridge and sat at the table in Finch's chair. He laid Finch's coat out over his lap as he tapped his foot on the floor in a staccato pattern. Not even his tail swayed; it just laid over the back of the chair's seat and hung lifelessly down like his bent ears. He laid his phone out before him, next to the mug of ice cold tea Finch never finished. He took a sip of the tea as he watched the phone, hoping Finch would call. The tea assaulted his senses. It was nothing like the coffee he indulged in every morning. But, there was something familiar about it. It was the last taste on Finch's tongue, the taste of his kiss. Reese forced himself to drink the rest of the tea, savoring Finch's faint taste and still eyeing the phone. Finch would call, but later, and say it was just the wolf in Reese. For now, Reese would have to agree with that for all of their sakes, Finch's, Samantha's and a part of Reese that still had some conscious thought.
After a few minutes, the only thing Reese heard as he folded his arms and rested his forehead against his forearms was the tick of the clock set against the wall across from the door. It ticked so smoothly and the sound calmed Reese. He looked up to the clock once, regarding the time. He had about thirty minutes before he had to leave for the Miller's. That was enough time to take a quick shower and wash all of this away. He might even wash away from stress as Finch suggested. The corner of Reese's mouth twitched up in a half grin as he craned his head to the hallway. A shower sounded very promising.