It was a Thursday, and John had just finished work when he got a text from Carter saying he would be late coming into the city, but to let himself into the apartment anyway.
John didn’t have a key, but Carter’s building had electronic locks that could be open and closed from anywhere. All John had to do was type in the pin Carter sent him and he’d be able to get inside.
It wasn’t quite as good as getting a key, but it still made John happy.
Letting himself into the apartment, John kicked off his shoes and walked into the kitchen where he helped himself to a bottle of beer. He didn’t recognize the label, but he had no doubt that it was expensive. Carter, he’d come to realize, was something of a snob when it came to food and alcohol.
Beer in hand, John spent a few minutes walking around Carter’s apartment. It was weird and somewhat unnerving being there alone. Quiet and peaceful in a way that he didn’t associate with Carter at all.
Carter had an energy about him. His presence filled the room, commanding it, making him absolutely impossible to ignore. John loved it, though he could understand what Carter meant when he said that some people found him too intimidating to interact with normally.
Tired of exploring, John made his way into the bedroom and sat down on the bed on top of Carter’s new down comforter. He splayed his hand over the soft surface and smiled. John liked sleeping with the windows open, but Carter’s old sheets had been way too thin for that, and so Carter had gone out and bought a comforter. It was so much softer than the one John had at home, and he never wanted to find out how much it cost.
Lowering himself back down flat and balancing his beer on his stomach, John let his body sink into the soft embrace of a million fluffy feathers and stared up at the ceiling. He’d suggested that Carter could install a mirror up there, the idea of watching himself get pounded making his cock throb, but Carter hadn’t seemed into the idea.
He probably thought it was tacky, though he was far too nice to ever say so out loud.
“There you are.”
John hadn’t heard the front door open, so when Carter suddenly stepped into the room and spoke he startled so bad that he spilled his beer all over his stomach.
“Fuck, you startled me,” he said, laughing as his heart rate returned to normal. “Jesus Christ.”
“Sorry,” Carter said, walking into the room and taking the bottle. He was smiling, looking sexy as hell in a slick suit that probably cost more than John made in a week. “I didn’t mean to. Let me get you another shirt.”
John pulled off his soiled t-shirt and checked to see if he’d spilled any beer on the bed, but as far as he could tell he hadn’t. He carried his t-shirt into the bathroom and put it in the sink, rinsing it out and hanging it over the edge of Carter’s massive claw-foot bathtub.
“Here you go,” Carter said, coming up behind him and holding out a plain white tee. It was enormous and sinfully soft, and putting it on made John feel like he was wearing a dress.
Carter, on the other hand, looked perfectly put together. He’d ditched his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, looking like every one of John’s executive boss fantasies come to life.
“I like seeing you in my clothes,” Carter said, moving in behind him and wrapping him up in a hug. He leaned down and started kissing John’s neck, spreading his legs wide and bending his knees to reach.
John could feel Carter’s erection pressing against his ass, and he moaned at the feeling of the werewolf’s lips moving over his jugular. He leaned back against Carter’s massive chest and let him have his way.
He didn’t know what it was about his neck that Carter liked so much, but he wasn’t going to complain. Not even Mike teasing him about the number of hickeys he was getting could get him to ask Carter to stop.
Carter scraped his teeth over the skin under John’s ear, biting down very gently before reluctantly pulling away.
“Come on, I brought pizza,” he said, grabbing John by the front of his oversized shirt and dragging him out of the bathroom.
This was another thing John liked. Carter would bring food, and the two of them would eat together—talking and getting to know each other beyond the explosive orgasms they’d been sharing—like they were dating and not just fucking around.
“Good, I’m starving,” John said, reaching up and untangling the grip Carter had on his shirt and holding his hand instead. Carter looked down at him and smiled, squeezing his hand gently.
“Do you want plates?” Carter asked when they passed the kitchen.
“No, but drinks would be good. You want to eat on the couch?”
“Sure.” Carter walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, looking inside while John grabbed some paper towels they could use for napkins. “What do you want?”
“Beer, please,” John said, looking over Carter’s shoulder into the interior of the refrigerator. Carter grabbed a beer and handed it to him, taking a bottle of sparkling water for himself.
They made their way into the living room where the pizza was waiting for them on the coffee table.
“So was everything okay at work?” John asked when they sat down, helping himself to a slice of pizza from the box and leaning back in the couch.
“It was fine,” Carter said, taking a big bite of his pizza. “One of my junior associates needed help with a case and it took me a while to make sense of it. It’s all fine now.”
