"Sex is emotion in motion."
Mae West
Much to my protest, Red spent Christmas Eve in Forks. The only thing that kept me from some very pathetic begging was the fact that even without discussing it, we both knew this would be the last Christmas Red would spend under Charlie's roof. I was absolutely fine with waiting for Red to be ready, but I couldn't help but grow a little impatient for her to realize she'd been all but living with me for a month now.
Christmas morning dawned frigid and bright, crisp wind biting at every exposed inch of me as I made the small trip from my cabin to momma's house. I could hear the girls already, in all their squealing, squeaking, twin delight.
They met me at the door, all big-eyed and flush-faced. "Sam!" They cried, in typical unison. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Their new bikes - sans training wheels, to my horror - seemed to be a hit. I hadn't been so sure about them, but Red assured me it was just my valiant attempts to keep them babies forever.
Hugging them both against my thighs, (when had they grown tall enough that their heads hit my hips?) I squeezed them both tight. "Make sure you thank Red when she gets here."
"Already did," Red said, stepping into the kitchen. "I thought I'd get here early and help your momma." She leaned up, planting a frankly dissatisfying kiss on my cheek. "Sleep good?"
Grabbing her before she could get away, I fixed the kiss situation with a long, lingering not-particularly-Christmas-appropriate kiss with enough enthusiasm I could hear the girls pretending to gag as they made their way back to the living room.
Her responding laugh was a little breathless, to my unending smugness. "My dad is here. He's totally going to catch us-"
"Already did," Charlie grunted, giving me the hairy-eyeball treatment. He poured himself a cup of coffee and adjusted the gun on his belt. "Boy, it's Christmas morning. Ain't you ever heard of Church tongue?"
Red flailed, making her horrified disgust known. "Oh my God, Dad. Gross."
Momma made her grand appearance, laughing brightly as she stepped into the kitchen with a plate of half eaten 'Santa' cookies. "Kids. They always think they invented sex. Parents do it too, you know."
Not amused, I scowled. "Believe me, I know." No child could have possibly been given a more awkward sex-talk than myself, I was sure of it. Momma had been...very forthcoming. To the point of mental anguish and certain scarring.
Red made a face as she gathered a stack of impeccably wrapped gifts from the table. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said mildly, eyebrows migrating half way up her forehead. "I was conceived by immaculate concept-"
"You were conceived in the back of my dad's fishing boat," Charlie cut her off with a smirk, in a rare display of candid child-embarrassment. Clearly, he'd been spending far too much time with my mother. "Only time I ever got your mother in it, and it wasn't even on the water."
"Bet it was wet though," Momma chimed in, with a lecherous smile.
Steering Red toward the living room, I scowled at the pair of them. "You're both horrible people."
Michelle and Embry made their way to the house shortly after. Forced thoughts of parent-sex in mind, I couldn't help but notice how close Charlie and Michelle sat. It made me smile; they'd been introduced into the wild world of Werewolves at the same time. It wouldn't surprise me if they'd managed to bond over it.
There were more presents in the pile than I remembered, things Red must have bought without mentioning. For the most part, we picked our gifts jointly, for the girls at least. I'd bought my mother a skill saw, and she'd bought me a bottle of booze. It was an odd tradition of ours; buy each other things that we ourselves wanted and then trade later. It had been born when I was about eighteen, out of the sheer fact that neither of us were particularly good at spoiling ourselves.
Momma and Michelle were giving matching packages, both wrapped in the plain red wrapping paper I'd bought with big, silver bows on top. Red blushed as she explained them. "I know it's not much," she said, biting her lip. "But I thought, with everything you've gone through as pack mothers, you deserved to...to know."
They both held matching eight by ten frames, though I could see neither pictures they held. Michelle gasped, one hand flying to her mouth in surprise. "Oh!" She looked between Embry, and Red with wide, wet eyes. "Is this...Embry, is this you?"
Embry took the picture from her hand, smiling down at it softly. "Yeah," he replied. "Red took these just before the weather turned. She's got one of all the wolves. We'll be the first pack with photographic documentation."
Looking at momma, I couldn't help but feel wary. She was comfortable enough with my wolf, but having a daily reminder of what happened to her all those years ago seemed unbearably painful. Still, she was smiling down at her gift, fingertips dancing across the glass. She looked...proud.
Red jumped in quickly. "I printed them myself, and made sure to use the pictures that were taken against the bigger trees, so the size difference is less noticeable. I made them for all the parents," she added, with a little shrug. "There's one for you too, Sam."
She thrust the third identical package into my hand, which I tore into with curious gusto. It wasn't what I expected. She'd had a hard time convincing me to let her come to a pack meeting, no matter how much she protested it was for the journals. I couldn't help but be uncomfortable. Even with the knowledge that my pack was superbly well-behaved, the memory of what I'd done to momma would never really leave. Red had agreed to stay by the trees, camera in hand.
It was all of us, every wolf in my pack, playfully tearing it up in the field far behind Billy Black's house. We looked like puppies, even me. I was dead center, and easily towering over every one but Jacob Black, both of us in a decidedly down-ward facing dog position. I was looking at Red; I remembered because the moment after she'd snapped this, Jacob had launched himself on me with nearly no effort. She'd managed to catch Quil mid-leap as Embry raced after him and Leah belly up while Seth nosed at her head. Jared and Paul were a nearly indiscernible ball of fur as they wrestled each other to the ground.
It was perfect. It was my pack.
Words really couldn't express how grateful I was for her gift, at least not without me sounding terribly awkward with an audience. So I settled for kissing her on the forehead, and pulling her close under my arm.
"Holy crap, Bells. This is awesome," Embry chimed, breaking me from my fluffy inward thoughts. "Did you make this?" He held up a long length of camouflage vinyl, with two thick, black elastic bands sewed into the side. It looked a little bit like a very large gun holster, with a zipper. Beyond that, I had no idea what it was, though Embry seemed to understand.
"Yeah, and seven more like it. I'll never touch another sewing machine again. Sewing; not my forte," she snorted, and took the vinyl thing from Embry's hands. "The elastic stretches a lot, so when you slip them over your calf and phase, it'll stay secure in wolf form. It's waterproof, and just big enough to hold a pair of shorts. There's a pocket on the inside, big enough to hold a wallet and cell phone."
Finally catching on, I took the holster from her hand and examined it myself. If the sewing was a little wonky, the design was actually perfect. "You made seven of these?" I asked, slipping Embry's over my calf. The elastic bands sat just loosely over the top curve of my calf, and around the ankle. "These are great Red. How'd you even think of it?"
Red beamed. "Dad's gun holster, actually," she explained, pointing to Charlie's calf. He seemed intrigued enough to obligingly lift his pant leg, exposing, yes, another gun. "Plus, I hate not being able to get a hold of you when you're on patrols. This way, if you take your cell and set it on vibrate, you'll know if the lowly humans are trying to reach you. I thought...well." Her eyes flickered to Michelle, and she shrugged. "I thought it would make us women feel a little better about...everything."
"You're too much," I informed her, smiling wide enough to hurt.
Charlie snorted, lifting up his own freshly unwrapped present. "Dang right you are," he said, editing himself for the girls, as they unwrapped their own hoard of gifts by the tree. "When did you have time to do all this?"
He had a photo album opened in his lap, little faces shining up at him from four by seven squares. "I called around," Red admitted. "I know mom always sent you my school pictures but...there was just so much more. I called mom, and Grandma, and Great-Aunt Carol. She sent me a whole box of pictures. There's even some of you in there, from when I was a little. And some of Jacob and Billy. Just...Do you like it?"
"Kid, I love it." He smiled beneath his mustache, and kicked Red's shoe. It said more than a back-slapping hug ever could.
The doorbell rang, shattering the moment as my sisters knocked into each other with the violent intent of sibling seven-year-olds in a race to the door. "Daddy!" they cried, making me cringe.
Red laid a hand on my arm and gave it a squeeze. "Be good," she warned, with a pleading look. I caved, of course. The man wouldn't have been there if I hadn't given my permission. The least I could do was behave congenially, and I knew without a doubt even that would be forced, but the girls didn't need to see the strain between myself and our father.
"If it's okay with your momma, go get your kit on. Fill gear, girls. Coats, hats, gloves, boots. Mine is an outdoor surprise," Josh was explaining, as we met him in the kitchen. Momma gave the girls the go-ahead, and then cast Josh a curious look.
"I uh...sleds. Bobbin sleds," he explained, shifting awkwardly as I stared at him.
"You bought them sleds?" I didn't mean to sound so petulant, but I couldn't imagine any other gift that could one-up my bikes so thoroughly. After all, they wouldn't get the chance to ride the bikes for months.
Josh cleared his throat, and accepted the cup of coffee momma handed him. "Made them, actually. I'm...I'm decent at wood work." He gave me a chagrined look. I wanted to cast the comment off as arrogant, but it was said so benignly. Just a man aware of his skills. And damn him, but he was good at wood work. I couldn't even deny it.
"I'm going to go get my coat on," Red announced, looking between Josh and I. "Hel probably wants some help with the girls, and I think Dad's heading over to Billy's, so I should say goodbye."
And then, the kitchen was empty. Embry stumbled in a moment later, and froze. "Um...Hey Josh," he said, with a neutral tone. Michelle breezed past them without so much as a word, and I had to hand it to the woman. Judging by Josh's face, she sure knew how to make a man feel like he'd been kicked in the tenders without uttering a single word.
It made me like her that much more.
"Embry, I um...I'm glad you're here." Josh fumbled with the coat pocket of his jacket, unearthing a crumpled envelope. He spoke hushed and rushed, like he wasn't sure he could get the words out. I'd never seen him look so nervous. "This is for you. Both of you. I didn't spend any money on it. I knew neither one of you would appreciate that much. I just...I know that I can't make up for the shit I pulled. I can't make up for missing so fucking much." He winced, and looked over his shoulder, making sure the girls weren't in hearing range and it struck me as...as oddly fatherly. "But...well. I might suck as a dad, but that doesn't mean I don't want what's best for you boys, and for the tribe. Open that together, would you? Not now, but...don't wait to long." He scratched at the back of his neck and took a step toward the door. "I should probably...go see the girls. Promised my mom I'd get pictures. Just...Merry Christmas."
Sharing a look, Embry and I watched our father slip out the door. I shoved the envelope into my pocket and shrugged. "We can take a look at it after Christmas, I suppose." I was curious, but not enough to make me want to open it just yet. It was Josh, after all.
Embry shrugged too. "Just give me a call, whenever."
"We should have a party or something," Red announced, two days after Christmas. "Just something to...I don't know...celebrate."
"New Year's party?"
"Actually I was thinking more like..." She licked her lips and hopped up into one of the bar stools, watching me as I slapped together our sandwiches for lunch. "More like a house-warming party."
"Really?" I asked, leveling the excitement creeping up into my voice. Red never talked much about the Hallow House. I knew for a fact that since word had gotten out that it was mine, members of the tribe had been scrambling to gift us with things. The tradition had been long dead, but it was revived with a startling passion that made me glow a little with pride for my people. We were bringing back the old ways, and we weren't even trying.
Red plucked an apple out of the bowl on the kitchen island, and bit into it with a crunch. It was clear, as she chewed slowly, that she was stalling. Swallowing, she shrugged. "I told Charlie I'd be out by the end of January."
Laying down the knife I'd been cutting tomatoes with, it took everything in me not to crush her into a spine-breaking hug. "Red, I doubt it's going to take you four weeks to move your shit from Charlie's to the Hallow. Mainly, because all your shit is here." Her things had taken over my cabin, integrating so seamlessly it was like they'd always been there.
She laughed, and sighed. "I've been silly about this, haven't I? How long have I lived with you now, without me noticing? Honestly."
"Over a month," I admitted. I couldn't help the fond look as it escaped me. "For all that you can scope out every monster in a ten mile radius, you're pretty unobservant." And wasn't that hitting a little too close to home?
Red laughed at me, slapping the back of her hand against my stomach. "Shut up. Anyway, I'm not terribly fond of parties, as you might know. But...I don't know. I sort of want this. Actually, a New Year's Party would be nice. A New Year's House-Warming Party. Just for the Pack and the imprints, you know? It's...it's the Pack house. The first night we spend there, so should they. Wouldn't feel right, otherwise."
And so that was how we broke in our new house.
Billy had graciously donated off an alarming amount of moonshine early on New Year's Eve, which I refrained from pointing out was terribly illegal and also poor behavior for a previous chief.
He was delivering it to my house, after all.
Red was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables. "Was that Jake?" she asked, without looking up.
"And Billy." I set the crate on the counter before snagging a tomato slice. She hit me with the back of the knife in absent reprimand, and I grinned. Apparently, knife safety didn't apply to werewolves. "Apparently, he's intent to see us well and truly drunk. Moonshine; a shit ton of it."
"Oh God, I can't drink that stuff again. I swear last time, I was drunk for two days." Last time. Last time had been the night we'd killed that leech, and Red had consented - sloppily, drunkenly - to be mine.
Giving her a look, I leaned my hip against the counter and changed the subject. "We're planning on filling our brand new house, which I slaved over, I might add, with eight drunken werewolves? And here I thought we were smart. Maybe I should just chaperone."
Looking up, she gave me an accessing look, as if measuring the sincerity of my concern. It was fifty-fifty, really. It was a bad idea, no matter how badly my boys (and Leah) deserved to blow off some steam. "This party is for you, too. Take a day off, Alpha."
It rolled off her tongue so mindlessly; her typical absent ease in effect. Still, I hadn't popped a boner so fast since I was thirteen and still working out what my dick was for. "What did you call me?" I heard myself ask, voice breaking like it hadn't since I was fourteen. "Christ."
She paused, laying down the knife. "Did I say something wrong...Alpha?"
"Oh my God. Shouldn't be so hot," I murmured. "Seriously, so fucked up. Fuck." Apparently, I had a kink. I couldn't say if it was the power-thing, or the idea that she was pack. My pack. Mine. Still, my affliction was obvious, dick straining in my jeans almost instantly. It didn't take much to lift her up by the ass and plant her on the counter top.
Complacent as ever, she hitched her thighs over my hips. "We could. We could do it right here." Smooth her hand over the cold marble, she patted the counter.
"No, I want-" My words fell short, embarrassment choking me. I didn't want to fuck her. God, she fucked me up, made me want things I knew I shouldn't. She brought forth a bastard in me I never knew existed. The things I said to her during sex, filthy shit, it never ceased to surprise me. But fuck, she made me feral in a way that seemed to turn me primal. I wanted...I wanted...
Her fingers worked swiftly at the buttons of my jeans. "What?" she asked, looking up at me, cheeks already flushed. And like a vulture to its prey, she honed right in on my conundrum, smirk splashed across her face. "Alpha."
God. Alpha. I bit my lip to stifle a growl, not that it did much good. I could barely say it, speak out loud the thing I wanted. "I want to get you on your knees," I murmured, mouth pressed against her neck. I bit her - harder than usual - and grinned when she gasped. "Fuck your pretty mouth open and come on your face." That's what I wanted. And all because she called me Alpha.
Jesus Christ.
Just like that she was sliding off the counter, sinking to her knees on our pretty Turkish tiles. She licked her lips, and hesitated. The combination of her eagerness and fear made me impossibly harder. I was a sick, sick bastard. Breathlessly, Red squirmed, rubbing her thighs together as she planted her palms on my hips and a thought occurred to me, one I never considered before.
"Red, do you like it when I tell you what to do?" I certainly liked telling her what to do, and as she was my imprint, it seemed only natural we'd complement each other.
She swallowed, and didn't meet my eye. "You don't tell me what to do," she said, with a bite in her voice that made pre-come soak straight through my boxers.
I could smell her.
Quickly, but not roughly, I grabbed the bulk of her pony tail in one hand, and forced her head back, fingers knotted in the loose curls. "Do you want me to?" Red was so rebellious, so determined to do what she wished. It wasn't so far a stretch to believe she might want to relinquish that perfect control on occasion. She certainly had never snubbed my previous rough treatment. She'd enjoyed it. More, I thought, than I previously imagined. It made sense, I suppose, because in the same regard, sometimes I didn't want to be Good Boy Sam. I wanted to be the goddamn wolf I was.
And she let me.
Her lashes fluttered to a close, and her breath was shaky and stuttered, warm against my jeans. I cupped her jaw with a shivering hand, pushing her mouth open with my thumb. She opened for it instantly, and whimpered when I pushed against her tongue.
She wanted it.
Pushing my thumb father into her mouth, watching her lips purse around it, I narrowed my eyes at her. "You...you make me like this on purpose, you push my buttons on purpose." All the challenges, subtle and sly, the lofty you-don't-have-it-in-you looks. She did it on purpose, the little minx.
And that, if nothing else, made perfect sense. Red had never scoffed at pushing borders, and pushing buttons. Red lived to challenge.
She lived to challenge me.
And I loved it.
"Oh baby," I whispered, unable to trust myself to not growl again. "I have no idea what I did to deserve you."
The aftermath of our impromptu counter fucking has been awkward. Neither Red nor I were really sure what to say. Nothing was different of course. We'd fucked the same we always had; rough and hard and filthy. I worried that it would come back to bite me in the ass, the revelation of our apparent desires. Red though, she'd laughed as she pulled her pants back up. With a kiss, she'd shrugged it off. "No one knows me like you do."
By the time midnight rolled around, Red was drunk, happy, flush faced and completely saturated in my scent from our previous kitchen deviance. I'd been wary, of course, but needlessly so. Without the anger and teenage rebellion, Red was just simply a sloppy, giggling drunk with even less brain-to-mouth filter than when sober.
It was all fine and well, but I should have known better. A sloppy, giggling, filter-less Red made for instant over-share. I wouldn't be able to look the Pack in the face for at least a week once Red was finished.
"I need a drink," she announced after the clock struck twelve, pushing up from my chair. Jacob, who had sprawled himself out on the floor, only just managed to catch her before she face planted into the coffee table.
She stumbled, and laughed as I tugged her back down. "I think you've had enough." I didn't particularly want to be the one to rain on her happy little parade. She'd been not-so-stealthily rubbing on me since her third mixer; Red had been steadily drinking through the evening, but then again, so had I. We were both a little sloppy with it.
Paul snorted. "Don't be a bitch, Sam. Give the girl a beer."
"See? He's on my side." Red leaned forward, and bumped knuckles with Paul, much to my horror. Clearly, their friendship had blossomed while I wasn't looking. That could only end in disaster.
Tugging Red out of Paul's reach, I scowled. "Paul takes two shots of whiskey and plays Hulk Smash with the furniture. Not exactly a selling point."
Kicking her shoes off (and onto Jacob) Red shrugged. "Hey, me and Paul, we're chill, we're mellow. Peace, motherfucker," she slurred, kissing the tips of her pointer and middle finger and raising them up in some strange sign of form of solidarity. "Peace, Paulie."
"Peace, B," Paul replied, echoing the sign with a laugh. "Maybe you don't need another."
"Hey," she protested, flailing in my lap. "Don't turn on me now."
I laughed, and hugged her more tightly against me. "Yeah, you're definitely cut off. Can you even walk?
"What? Yes of course I can." Red made to push up off me again, but found herself trapped in the curl of my arm. "Saaaam," she whined, kicking her heels against my shins. She fell silent for a moment (which never boded well for anyone involved) and then blurted out a left-field question with the casualty only the drunk can manage. "Have you had sex with Leah? You keep checking her out. Bet she doesn't let you blow your load on her face. Doesn't look the type." Smugly; she said it so smugly. Like we were the only two in the room.
Unfortunately, we really, really weren't.
Leah, who had just walked into the living room where we were seated, walked right back out with a raised-brow look and not a single word. At that point, I'd have liked to do the same, because seriously? What the hell had just happened? "What? I didn't check Leah out," I protested, because I hadn't. She hadn't even been in the room. Not that I would have, if she had been.
"Ha!" Red crowed, victorious for reasons I couldn't fathom. I'd have been more worried if she wasn't smiling so widely, glossy-and red-cheeked.
Bewildered, and uncomfortable underneath the inscrutably amused faces of my pack, I frowned. "What?"
Red gave me a narrow eyed look, mouth curved into a smirk. "You totally didn't deny sleeping with her."
And damn, but I walked right into that one "Uh..." There was really no way to go about replying, without walking into another possible trap. "I mean...it was...we-"
"I'm devastated, really. The fact you're five years older and had a sex life before me, it changes everything." Red laughed, throwing her head back. "I'm absolutely distraught. Clearly, I deserve a beer."
"I'm not giving you anything after that," I scoffed, giving her a dirty look. "That was cheap."
Petting my chest, she gave me a condescending smile. "Aw. It's okay. I totally stuck my hands in Jacob's pants. That makes us even."
How it made us even, I had no idea. Her liquor-logic escaped me. More importantly though, is that I didn't know that had happened. I kicked Jake in the thigh hard enough to bruise. "Explain."
"Hey!" Jacob jackknifed up, hands raised like white flag. "I told you she jumped me dude. I didn't uh...didn't think the details were important? Quit looking at me like that! I pushed her off! And it was forever ago. Before you were dating," he added, rendering any argument invalid. Fucker.
"Alright." I hauled myself up from the chair, throwing Red over my shoulder. Giving her ass a solid smack, I waved my Pack good night. "Y'all are welcome to stay. Don't break my shit. Good night. I've got an ass to punish."
Red squealed, and then scoffed. "Pff. If you think you're putting that kickstand you call a dick in the back nine, you're severely mistaken," she sang out, far louder than necessary. "Seriously, just..no. There's just no going back from that. I'm still not sure my bajango will ever be the same."
Embry joked on a mouthful of beer, spitting it across Quil's arm. "Oh my God. Did she just say-"
"Bajango," I echoed, mortified on her behalf. She'd regret that in the morning. "Seriously Red, that's not what I meant and...and you know, everything feels the same to me. Now hush," I hissed, embarrassed for her. Apparently a drunk Red was a forthcoming Red. "Christ, Red, shut up."
"No!" She leaned over my back and hauled my boxer shorts as far up my ass as she could. "There should be dues! For...for irreparable damage!" Red would not be silenced. It didn't matter that we were half way to the stairs. "You hush! Grow a vagina and then fuck it, and tell me if it feels the same to you. Leah! Tell him! Tell him it's never the same-"
Surely Leah wouldn't. It had been years. I could trust her-
Leah's voice carried easily from the kitchen. "Sam Uley - cunt destroyer!"
I could trust her to be as crass as fucking possible.
"You're going to regret this in the morning," I told her, smacking her ass again when she wriggled. "Seriously, you're going to be mortified."
"Right. Like they don't already know." She made a wet, raspberry sound and huffed. "I mean, you think I don't know they can smell the fact you went all Cave Man Sam and came all over my fricking front? Seriously, there is a difference between face and nose-to-navel. I mean, I know I've got class but I'm not the pearl necklace kind of girl." I couldn't help the chuckle that escaped me, though it was easily drowned out by the collective laughter of my pack. Mortified. She was going to be so mortified. "You think you're getting any more kitchen blowies, you can suck it yourself, bitches."
"You're right Red," I replied, nudging the bedroom door open. I dropped her on the bed with a bounce."You're totally class. Petticoat-and-white-glove classy. You're a regular Jackie-oooh fuck what are you doing?"
She snorted, cupping my junk more tightly. "Tying your shoe, dip shit. What the fuck you think I'm doing?"
I grabbed her by the wrist, though with no particular enthusiasm. If she wanted to get on my dick, I really wasn't one to stop her. But... "Red, the whole damn pack is down stairs."
She sighed, sounding so put-upon and denied; I couldn't help but grin down at her, where her forehead was pressed against my stomach. "Fine, pussy."
She paused, tilting her head back just far enough to look at me in a spectacularly un-Red and coy manner. "I was under the impression you were Alpha, but-"
And there she was challenging me. Now that she knew it worked, and how well, I had a feeling I'd find myself biting her bait more often. "Cheap," I growled, shoving her down onto the mattress till she was flat on her back. "Cheap shot, Red."
Looking up at me with innocent lash-batting look, she toyed with the bed spread. "Will it get me laid?"
It wouldn't occur to me until much later, while I lay spooned behind Red, sweaty and exhausted after two solid rounds of drunk and brutal fucking. When Red got drunk, she got cocky, she got bold, she got vulgar, and she got horny.
To summarize; Red turned into my mother.
tbc