“Igetit,” Danny insisted. He stroked his hand over Jack’s shoulder and down his side, over the taut slats of rib bone and muscle. “It’s all about the next generation. How could they trust a wolf to lead them that doesn’t have an investment in that future? Without your own pups, why would you care about theirs? You think nobody ever explained to me why I couldn’t have you?”
Jack chewed a short-lived bruise into Danny’s throat, a livid splash of red and blue that would fade soon enough. He leaned back and narrowed his eyes in a glare.
“Who?”
Danny looked amused. “Who didn’t?” he asked, his fingers curved around Jack’s hip. “Maybe some of them didn’t put it in so many words, but they made sure I got it. You were the prince of the Pack, the Numitor-in-Waiting. And I was a dog who nobody thought you needed.”
Nobody had tried to tell Jack that. Neither of the Numitor’s sons had ever taken kindly to being told what to do. It hadn’t stopped his own version of the lesson from sinking in, though. No one had a problem with Jack’s dalliance with a dog—he could do as he liked—but they’d all thought it was just a fling. Even Jack had stalled at imagining a future further away than the idea he wanted Danny around past “tomorrow.”
Jack tightened his fingers on the nape of Danny’s neck, enough to make Danny hiss through his teeth. “They were wrong.”
A shadow of regret passed over Danny’s face for what he was about to say. He tilted the corner of his mouth wryly, and Jack could think of better things to do with that mouth than argue. He shoved Danny down onto his knees in front of him and pulled his head back to exaggerate the submissive stretch of his throat. Tendons pulled tight for a second as Danny resisted on instinct, but then he relaxed back into it. Brown eyes watched Jack curiously through his glasses, at least until Jack reached down and plucked them off his face.
“Don’t—” Danny protested as he reached up to take the glasses back.
“Show me what your humans taught you,” Jack said as he put the glasses behind him on the sink. He remembered the heat of Danny’s mouth on him in Durham, his knee-jerk scrape of arousal and irritation at the reminder that Danny liked playing human, that he might be Jack’s, but he hadn’t wanted Jack to come and get him. That still chewed between Jack’s ribs sometimes, like a squirrel at the root of the world, but he wantedallof Danny, even the bits Danny had never meant for him. “Make me want you.”
Danny glanced at Jack’s cock, already flush and half-hard between his thighs at the thought and swiped his tongue over his lower lip. The gesture made Jack’s cock twitch in interested response. It might be a human thing, but Jack liked beinginDanny, so why not in his mouth too?
“I need to try now?” he asked.
There was a crack of something other than Danny’s clever mouth in the question, a hint of uncertainty, as though he thought it wasn’t just a fact, like the fucked moon getting fat. Jack supposed it hadn’t been—since he’d let the old bitch in his head—but that was something in him. Nothing to do with Danny.
“I meant use your mouth on my cock,” Jack said. He leaned back against the sink and spread his legs slightly, his cock thick andobviouslynot in need of anything more than Danny there to get its interest. “Not talk until I give up and fuck you to shut you up.”
Maybe it wasn’t what Danny needed. Another dog—a human—might have been kinder, gentler about it. Vulnerable. That wasn’t in Jack. It wasn’t something he could stomach. The blunt honesty of his lust seemed like it was enough for Danny. The hint of uncertainty, the hesitancy, bled away.
“When did that ever work?” Danny asked.
Jack snorted. He didn’t mind when Danny ran his mouth, to be honest, but that was a challenge, and he had definitely reduced Danny to nothing but ragged breathing and whimpers before.
“Remind me to show you later,” he said.
Danny gave him a quick kiss and ran his hands up Jack’s braced legs. With his thumbs he traced the tight run of muscle through the pale, sensitive skin of the inner thigh. He hesitated at the spot where the black lines of ink tore away and left his skin new and naked. Something in Jack tightened, a knot of tension behind his breastbone, but it felt… the same. He didn’t know what he thought it would feel like—tainted somehow by Rose and her sharp little knife—but all it felt was good.
Danny lifted his cock and leaned in to press a wet, tongued kiss to the base of it. He worked his way up the length of it, hard, flushed flesh slick and wet under the attention of lips and tongue, to the come-slick head already only barely covered by Jack’s foreskin. The tip of Danny’s tongue swiped around it and then flicked across the eye to taste the bead of come.
“Shit,” Jack groaned as Danny took him in his mouth. Pleasure jolted down his cock and clenched in the back of his thighs and his gut.
The wet warmth of Danny’s mouth was more tease than the instant satisfaction of Jack’s cock in Danny’s ass. It made his nerve ends fire off slivers of electric sensation that twitched under his skin and pulled anticipation tight as a wire through his stomach.
Like a lot of human things, it was unnecessary. Jack could have bent Danny over the bath and fucked him. That wasn’t a thing that needed improvement or adornment. The only reason he didn’t was the sticky, undemanding intimacy of it.
Danny was on his knees, mouth wrapped around Jack’s cock, and Jack got to watch. He raked his fingers through Danny’s curls to pull them back from his face and watched the way Danny’s mouth stretched around the width of his cock, his lips already flushed from kissing and now slick with spit and come. It was the vulnerability of it that dragged on the hot thread of pleasure that ran into Jack’s stomach.
Danny took nearly all of Jack into his mouth, the back of his throat tight and wet as he swallowed him. He pushed his tongue up against the underside of Jack’s slick, hard cock, and Jack braced his arms against the sink as he came. His hand tightened around the back of Danny’s head, fingers tangled in his air, as he jerked his hips roughly forward. Then he spilled his come over Danny’s tongue and watched Danny’s throat work as he swallowed it.
Heat flushed up Jack’s spine to the base of his skull. Maybe, he thought hazily as Danny leaned back and let Jack’s cock slide out of his mouth, the humans had a few good ideas in them. Beyond Celtic football club.
“So, I’m done,” Jack said, his voice thick with satisfaction, as Danny sat back on his heels. He cupped Danny’s chin between his fingers and tilted his head back. “Who’s going to take care of you?”
It was just a tease. He wasn’t about to suck Danny’s cock—his pride bristled at the idea even as his tender balls tightened with interest—but he could still get him off… or get it up again. His cock was spent and wet against his thigh, but he could feel a twinge of interest.
“I can always take care of myself,” Danny said as he scrambled to his feet. His jeans were wet over the knees and the faded denim pulled tight over the hard rise of his erection. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
It didn’t take years spent in dusty rooms reading dusty books to pick up that Danny didn’t mean he could just use his own hand. Jack snorted as he grabbed a handful of Danny’s sweater, laced his fingers through the rough knit, and shoved Danny back against the door frame. He leaned in and breathed in Danny and sex, the musky smell of it a shot of hunger that flowed straight down to his cock.
“I guess I’m going to have to fuck you after all,” Jack rasped into Danny’s ear. “Otherwise you just keep talking, huh?”
