Some of Finn’s release had landed all the way up on Jaime’s chin, and he watched Jaime slowly uncurl his tight grip on Finn’s shoulder and swipe at it. Green eyes flicked up and met his, as if making sure Finn was watching, before the tip of Jaime’s pink tongue darted out from his swollen lips and lapped Finn’s spill off the pad of his thumb.
If he could come again so soon, he would have.
“Jaime.” Finn’s voice was low and gravelly, words thick between his still descended canines.
Jaime lifted a hand up to his cheek and ran the pad of his thumb along Finn’s lips, exposing the tip of a fang. “So that’s why you sometimes sound like you swallowed a bit.”
Finn stared, enthralled as he explored his sharp teeth like they weren’t dangerous, or frightening, or all of the other things that Finn feared he was.
Hand falling away, Jaime began to fidget with the hem of his t-shirt as he peeked up through cinnamon lashes and gave him a shy smile. “Um, so. That was… nice. Good. It was good. Was it good for you?”
The earnest hope and vulnerability shining in his eyes dashed any fears Finn had that Jaime would regret what they had done together. He nodded, and leaned back in for a slower, tender kiss. It was gentle in a way their kisses hadn’t been before, but still devastating. Finn wanted to luxuriate in Jaime’s lips and tongue forever.
Long moments later, Finn broke the kiss and wrapped his arms around Jaime in a tight hold, pressing sweet words into his hair. “I’ve never come so hard in my life.”
He exhaled, unable to find the words for how axis-shifting and revelatory it was to hold Jaime in his arms, to kiss him and hear his sounds of pleasure and know that he was the one responsible. All he could say was his name, over and over. “Jaime. My Jaime.”
Jaime shuddered in Finn’s arms, and he realized they were both still streaked with drying come, pants undone. So gently, he reached down and tucked Jaime away, righting his clothes, and then did the same for himself. Taking off his shirt, he swiped at the cum covering them both. “We should go clean up. I can give you a change of clothes, if you like.”
Finn pretended to forget that Jaime had brought his own overnight bag—he wanted him in his shirt.
Apparently, Jaime was also willing to pretend. “I’d like that.”
The moment still felt too tender for conversation, so Finn took Jaime’s hand and led him up the stairs to his bathroom. After finding an old t-shirt and a pair of sweats with a drawstring, he set them on the counter for Jaime to change into when he was done. “Leave your dirty clothes on the counter and I’ll put them in the wash. If you need anything, just holler.”
Jaime smiled and nodded, and Finn shut the door behind him before promptly face-planting onto his giant bed, star-fishing his legs and arms. He luxuriated in the sounds of Jaime padding around his bathroom and stepping into the shower.
Jaime knows that I turn into a giant animal, and he’s not afraid.
Jaime just came in my hand, pressed up against me, and he said it was good.
If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up.
Still, there was a lot to be said between them. Finn needed to fill him in on the rest of the mess with Jeffrey Dugan, and before anything else happened between them he needed to tell Jaime everything about what it would mean for them to be together.
He needed to tell Jaime that he was Finn’s mate, and what that meant for them if they decided to make the bond, or reject it. It wasn’t fair to keep that from him any longer. So he got up, snagged Jaime’s dirty clothes from the bathroom counter, and threw them in the wash.
And he didnotsmell them. Even though he wanted to. Very much.
When Jaime stepped out from the bathroom Finn was again sitting on his bed, albeit with a little more dignity than before in preparation for this conversation.
However, upon noticing that Jaime was wearing Finn’s t-shirt, andonlyhis t-shirt, all of Finn’s rational thoughts and plans were forgotten. While it covered the swell of his ass, landing somewhere mid-thigh, the sight of Jaime’s long, bare legs would have brought him to his knees if he weren’t already sitting.
All of those freckles leading up, up, up… he needed to follow them and bury his face in the soft swell of Jaime’s thighs—needed to know if they tasted as delicious as they looked, dusting him all over.
And then the fucking scent of him; he still smelled likeJaime, all lemony sweetness, but also like Finn’s soap and his shirt and the faint musk of his cum still lingering… devastating.
Absolutely devastating.
“Come here,” Finn rumbled, holding out a hand. He wondered if his teeth would ever look human again now that the taste and scent of Jaime was permanently branded on his senses.
Jaime, already pink and flushed from the hot water, shyly made his way over and braced his hands on Finn’s shoulders. He grabbed Jaime’s hips, hands spreading wide so that his pinky tips teased the bare skin of Jaime’s thighs as he slid them up, and down, up, and down.
Jaime made a throaty noise, eyes hooded, and stepped further into Finn’s hold. “Finn... Is it always like this?”
He looked into Jaime’s eyes, and saw the answer to a question he’d wondered about since he felt Jaime’s tentative, inexperienced touch on his cock downstairs. Still, he needed to hear Jaime say it. “No. Never. It’s never been like this for me with anyone else.”
Finn exhaled hard, and tugged Jaime down until he was curled up next to him, arms wrapped around each other. “I have had sex with other men, but it’s been a long time. There was never anyone I wanted to be serious with, and casual flings just made me feel tired.” At Jaime’s glance, he clarified. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with casual, it’s just not for me.”
