Instinctual

Chapter 17

Marcus still refused to go outside while transformed, but he was fitting in surprisingly well as an ‘indoor wolf,’ in Declan’s admittedly biased opinion.  He was still a bit shy around Declan, and always just a bit too watchful of his manners for it to be entirely normal, but when Liz and Kobi took it upon themselves to keep him company indoors, Marcus’s actions gradually began to resemble something like playfulness.  Since being in wolf form did seem to be helping with the condition of his overwrought senses, Marcus usually spent at least half the day (and presumably most of each night) in lupine form, and it was Liz who first decided to keep him company that way.  The Omega had been surprised at first, standing a bit stiffly as Liz - tongue-lolling and bedecked in her thick, reddish pelt - had approached him.  Ever since that one fluke, the Betas hadn’t managed to hear any of Marcus’s thoughts, but Liz was pretty good at communicating by body-language alone.  When she’d dropped her front half down onto the floor, the hind end still held in the air and tail waving back and forth like a flag, Marcus had snorted and looked tentatively amused.  He’d responded well to her playfully nipping at his forepaws, careful to steer clear of his still-present stitches.  Before long, Liz had goaded Marcus into a hesitant, gentle sort of play that mostly included her making a nuisance of herself and crowding him, tugging playfully at his fur and sometimes mouthing at his ears or tail.  Sometimes they chased one another around the house (or at least Liz dogged Marcus’s heels around the house).  It was all done carefully enough that the smaller white wolf never seemed to be overwhelmed - and whenever he was, the games turning a bit rougher or more fast-paced, he found solace in an unexpected place: Kobi.

Perhaps knowing that his girlfriend’s rambunctious nature could be too much at times, he started transforming, too.  It was soon an unspoken rule that if Kobi was sprawled out in the lupine form in the living room, and Marcus ended up within a touching distance of him, Liz was to leave him alone - or else her boyfriend would get up with a fond but exasperated huff, and tackle her.  Liz was larger than Marcus, but Kobi was bigger than both of them and offered a good distraction when Marcus needed a breather.  Marcus always looked honestly flummoxed when Kobi stood up for him that way and would sit with his tail wrapped contritely around his paws and watch Kobi playfully maul Liz with sheathed claws and carefully jaws.  Declan, usually keeping his human shape so that at least one of them had a human voice with which to speak to Marcus, would lean his shoulder against the nearest door-frame and laugh, always drawing Marcus’s attention.  Times like these did a lot to soothe the ache Declan still felt in his mind and his heart from the cruel parting of Clarissa and Rob.  He was pretty sure that Liz and Kobi also enjoyed the distraction that Marcus provided, even if they had to remember to play very gently with him.  Declan himself had found that even if he wasn’t issuing commands, he had to watch his mouth because as playful as Marcus got, he’d stop interacting entirely if he got even the faintest impression that the Alpha wasn’t pleased with the idea.  

Just like today: Liz was chasing Marcus around the house with both of them actually putting some effort into the game, and Declan called out jokingly, “Hey, you two!  No speeding!”  He’d meant it all in jest, simply a comment thrown about between friends to show he was watching with no commanding power behind it, but Marcus, instead of hearing the humor in the words, immediately skidded to a halt.  Liz actually ran into him, nearly knocking them both over, and Kobi pricked his ears up from where he’d been dozing on the couch.  Regaining his balance but seeming to shrink, Marcus had stopped racing around, and no amount of coaxing on Liz’s part could restart the game.

Later that evening saw Marcus human again with an embarrassed flush to his cheeks and asking to eat his supper in his room.  When he walked off with a plate, shoulders up, and humiliation obviously burning in him from earlier, Declan wordlessly got up and followed a beat later with a plate of his own.  He found Marcus sitting cross-legged on his bed, pushing macaroni and cheese listlessly around on his plate.  Startled blue eyes lifted when Declan let himself in.  “Declan,” was all he said, then seemed unable to find anything else appropriate to say.  

Fortunately, Declan already had a good excuse for coming in here.  He held up a pair of small scissors.  “I just realized that we can probably take your stitches out now, and figured I should do that before I forgot.”  Instead of getting closer, however, Declan merely sat down at the end of the bed, making himself comfortable while Marcus watched him with a cautious gaze.  “We can eat first, though,” he added, setting aside the scissors in favor of pulling a fork out of his pocket and digging in.

The two ate in silence, Declan seemingly paying Marcus no mind, and Marcus eating as an afterthought as he continued to glance suspiciously at the Alpha in between bites.  Finally, Declan spoke, apropos of nothing but in a conversational tone, “You didn’t do anything wrong earlier.”

Swallowing his last bite a bit early, and grimacing as a half-chewed mouthful of macaroni worked its way down his throat, Marcus eventually answered, “I was being stupid.”

“Playing around and keeping Liz happy is stupid?” Declan challenged mildly.

He got an actual glare in return.  “No, not realizing that you were joking was stupid.  I freaked out and reacted when there wasn’t trouble in sight,” he assessed himself unforgivingly.  

Putting his own fork down and instead propping an elbow on one knee and his chin in his hand, Declan looked at Marcus frankly and replied just as calmly as before, “And how long have you known me?  How long have you been under this roof?  You don’t know the rules, Marcus, and no one expects you to.”

Making a noise in his throat that sounded very canine for a human throat - a little growl - Marcus looked down and stabbed at a hapless piece of macaroni.  “I expect to at least not make an i***t of myself every other minute by cowering at every unexpected thing.”

“You’re being pretty harsh on yourself.”

It seemed like the Omega would argue with him some more, but instead, he sighed and his shoulders lost their tension a little.  Clearly, he hadn’t really wanted to play the devil's advocate’ in this discussion anyway.  “You think so?” he asked, painfully hesitant.  

Declan felt some of his own tension go away, and he picked up his plate again.  “I do.  I also think that after what you’ve been through - what members of my very own pack put you through-”  The memory made Declan’s breath catch even now, a combination of impotent anger and the pain of lost pack-members.  He went on as evenly as he could, hiding the break in his words, “-No one in this house is going to judge you, no matter what.”

The relative paleness of Marcus’s skin-tone always off-set the darkness of his hair, and now his lashes as he looked up from under them, feigning nonchalance rather well for a young man who was usually rather highly strung, “Even if I’m speeding in the house?”

Declan snorted and answered, “Even then.”

“Even if I start roughhousing with your Betas?”

This new side of Marcus - almost teasing but not quite, almost serious but not quite - was somehow wholly charming to Declan, and he found himself chuckling now, a sound from deep within his chest.  He smiled wryly and pointed out, “Marcus, I’d totally pay to see you sincerely roughhousing with Liz or Kobi, because right now they’re so afraid of hurting you that I think they’d just about have brain-aneurysms.  But don’t tell them I said that.”

It was possible to see the smile that Marcus hid because his mouth twitched up on either side and - just like Liz had said - a tiny wrinkle appeared briefly on the bridge of his nose.  Even as he schooled his face into an expression of polite friendliness, his eyes stayed very warm, so that the larger Werewolf could still imagine the hidden smile perfectly.  “Even Liz is nearly half again as heavy as me.  They could take me with their paws tied.”

“But they won’t,” Declan assured smugly, before eating another mouthful.  He resisted the urge to talk with his mouth full, and was pleased when Marcus merely waited for him to keep talking, looking more relaxed than the Alpha had almost ever seen him, “I bet you dish-washing duties that if you jump them, you could have both Liz and Kobi on their backs, dominance-dynamics be damned.”

Marcus’s smile slipped out a bit more as he chuckled, looking grudgingly surprised by this whole conversation.  His eyes narrowed just a bit even as he kept smiling, eyes searching Declan’s face as if trying to figure him out.  “I’ll take that bet.  I mean, I don’t think I’ll have the guts to do it-”

“Says the guy who was gutsy enough to stand up to my aunt’s empathic powers.”

Now Marcus looked at him fully and seriously.  “You noticed that?”

Declan shrugged, admitting, “It was mostly a guess, actually, but that mess right before I banished my aunt Clarissa had a lot of emotional turmoil in it that stopped very, very suddenly when you got involved.”  Deciding to drop the subject, because it touched on tender wounds and unpleasant memories for both of them.  “Anyway – just know that you’re allowed to do anything those two can do, which includes goofing off.”

Marcus relaxed a few more noticeable degrees and actually nodded acceptingly before digging back into his meal.  After a few more surprisingly hungry-looking mouthfuls, he changed topics in a subdued tone, eyes on his plate, “I actually came to my room – Kobi’s room – because I could feel one of my senses starting to go haywire again.”

Since Declan had thought that the isolation was purely from awkwardness over the running-around-the-house incident, he nearly fumbled his spoon.  Recovering, he said to hide his incorrect (and now debunked) assumption, “Oh?  Why didn’t you just change shape?”

“Because… it’s not always working,” Marcus admitted, and Declan’s heart sunk.  Immediately, the Omega lifted his head, hurrying to explain, “It’s still much better!  Liz’s suggestion is a life-saver, no question about it, but as she said, it’s just a patch.  A temporary fix.  But I’m better now, because, well…”  Now Marcus looked awkward, a blush just painting his cheekbones as he gestured vaguely in the other young man’s direction.  “Because you’re here.  Thanks.”

So Declan’s assumptions about Marcus’s motives were wrong – but so were Marcus’s, thinking that the Alpha had come in here to help him.  However, Marcus’s theories were intensely flattering, and Declan wished that he’d noticed the problem and had come to fix it.  The outcome was the same, however, and Declan found his heart giving a hard, proud thump in his chest.  “Don’t mention it.  Are you finished eating?  I said that I wanted to take your stitches out, and I meant it.”

Plates were put aside and Declan moved closer, the young man coming to sit in the center of the bed, cross-legged, knees not quite touching the others.  When their eyes met for a moment, Marcus flushed even more brilliantly than before, and Declan didn’t need a telepathic link to realize that he was thinking about the last time they’d been on a bed together.  The Alpha’s eyes rounded a little bit, and he felt his ears heat up before he cleared his throat loudly and looked down to the scissors in his hand.  “Okay, how about your arm first?  It was healing the fastest.”

Marcus stuck out his arm, rolling back the long sleeve of the shirt that he’d been wearing – one of his own, of a dark blue color that had faded in places from wear and care – to reveal the skin of his forearm and the neat black threads that were no longer needed to hold the skin together.  Although the Omega was still healing markedly slower than a healthy Werewolf would have, the wounds were much further along than a human would have been.  “Looking good,” Declan murmured his approval, even as he cupped one hand underneath Marcus’s elbow so that the Omega’s lower arm rested naturally against his, parallel and wrist-down.  Purposefully, the Alpha didn’t stare at the other, old scars that he could see, although something stirred angrily in him.  Marcus shifted as if he noticed the emotional shift, but a slight squeeze of Declan’s fingers around the crook of his arm got him to settle down again almost instantly.  With careful focus and patience, Declan began snipping the knots away and then tugging the threads free as gently as possible.  Marcus hissed a little at the minimal sting, and Declan could feel the way his tendons flowed under his skin when he clenched his fist for a moment.  “Okay, all done with these,” Declan sighed, releasing Marcus and running a hand back through his hair.  Removing stitches was hardly a major medical procedure, but he always felt a bit nervous – he had an irrational fear of doing more harm than good while pulling the threads away from the healed skin.  Marcus was fine, though, the damage was done by Clarissa now faded to pink marks that would hopefully heal even more with time, and maybe even disappear entirely.  Considering Marcus’s impaired healing abilities, unfortunately, it was possible that he’d bear scars. 

 Something between the two of them felt more at ease at that moment, as they got situated, although there was a bit more shyness and awkward throat-clearing as Marcus pulled up his pant-leg and Declan hesitantly rested a hand on his ankle to prevent accidental movements.  After that, however, Declan turned his attention purely to his task and Marcus sat idly with nothing else to do or worry about besides sitting still.  He barely flinched as the stitches tugged free of his skin.  This time, Declan found himself far more confident in his self-assigned job, but it was only when he was done that he lifted his head, expression puzzled, and then turned to Marcus to ask, “Were you calling me down?”

Marcus’s eyes widened and in a second his body tensed up.  “Yes.  Sorry.  I’ll stop.  I just thought-” he started to rapidly justify himself. 

Still keeping a grip on Marcus’s ankle instinctively, Declan waved aside his concerns.  If asked before now, he would have thought that his reaction to being emotionally affected would’ve been negative, after realizing how much his aunt had been abusing that power – but somehow, with Marcus, it didn’t feel manipulative.  For starters, Marcus wasn’t quite as deft as Clarissa was, as evidenced by the fact that Declan had noticed.  The guilelessness of it all was unexpectedly comforting.  “No, it’s fine.  I don’t mind.”

Usually, at this point, Marcus would decide not to believe him and instead retreat behind a wall of civility and nervous aloofness, but this time he nodded.  The lean muscles in his frame were unclenched, and he looked unexpectedly pleased.  “Since I’m not your Omega, I didn’t think you’d be happy about it, but… you looked stressed,” Marcus explained with less defensiveness and more simple shyness, folding and unfolding his hands in his lap.  He eased his leg free of Declan’s grip to get a better look at it, tipping his chin approvingly before rolling his sweatpants back down over it.  Then he tipped his head to the left, and for a moment Declan was more distracted by the sleek lines of his bared neck than by the stitches that resided there.  “These next?” Marcus asked, nervous because Declan hadn’t said anything right off the bat. 

Shaking off his distraction and reminding himself that he was a person first and a wolf second (although perhaps he found the showing of Marcus’s throat erotic in an entirely human way), Declan nodded vigorously and scooted forward.  “Yup.  Those are the last ones to go.”  Still, he hesitated to touch, scissors readied in his left hand and body-weight shifting as he knelt up for a better vantage point.  “Uh…” he floundered, “Can you tug the collar of your shirt down a bit?  To keep it out of the way?”

“Oh!  Yeah, sure,” Marcus obliged readily, dexterous fingers reaching up and hooking in his shirt-collar.  This proved to be a bad move (for Declan, at least), because now not only was Marcus’s neck on the show but so was a fair swatch of his collar-bone, artfully curved against his skin.  An old scar curled over it, abruptly making Declan sad, and it was with a compassionate gentleness that he rested the fingertips of his right hand on Marcus’s jaw to keep him still.  Eyes the color of robins’ eggs snapped to him, devoid of fear for once, but watchful. 

Slowly, carefully, Declan began the same process over again of cutting and then removing the neat little stitches that Kobi had put in.  He unconsciously bent over his work like a scribe trying to get a bit of calligraphy right, unaware of how amusing he looked with his handsome face configured in a focused, serious frown.  Marcus only twitched once or twice, the tendons of his neck flexing, either at the cold feel of the scissors touching his neck or the tug from a bit of thread having scabbed to his skin – but even those minute movements Declan could feel.  It always distracted him and left him flustered for a second before he refocused himself.  Through it all, the Omega sat quietly in his shadow, no doubt feeling each little point where he was being touched.  Declan had to call this a little triumph because, at the beginning of their relationship, the Omega hadn’t wanted to be within shouting distance of him (a wise decision considering his vulnerability to Declan’s mere voice).  Now, it was something of a miracle to have Marcus accepting Declan’s fingers gently gripping his chin and keeping his head turned to the side, kneeling so that their legs brushed, leaning so close that Declan’s exhales occasionally rolled over his skin.  A tentative inhales – with Declan turning up his own senses with an amount of fine control that Marcus lacked – showed no acidic scent of fear either.

Just the unique vanilla-and-cedar smell that was so domesticated and yet so wild all in one. 

“Alpha?” Marcus asked softly, the use of the title a sure sign that he was uneasy even if he didn’t smell afraid.  However, he cleared his throat and quickly changed his term of address to something softer, “Declan?”

“Yes?”

“If I…?”  He stopped and swallowed, and now Declan could smell fear, but it must not have been connected to him, because Marcus didn’t shy away.  “I mean I…  I don’t know what to do,” the Omega continued to stumble along, looking anywhere but at Declan.  He went on bluntly and with a flinch that had nothing to do with the most recent stitch being tugged loose, “I’m crashing.  Hard.  I know that Liz is awesome and might pull another miracle out of thin air, but I don’t expect it, and the only thing…”  He bit his lip to stop himself from talking. 

Pulling out another stitch – the last stitch – Declan ran his thumb alongside the healing skin as if to prove that it was hale now.  When he let go of Marcus’s jaw, the Omega merely dropped his head, smelling of worry, defeat, and confusion like a cornered young stag.  Sensing more words to come, he waited, although it wasn’t until his hand fell on Marcus’s shoulder that the smaller man turned his head to look almost guiltily at the hand and say, “The only thing that helps every single time is you, and I honestly don’t know what to do about that without making things as embarrassing as hell.”

Declan felt his stomach give a little flip as he, too, thought about the embarrassing consequences of the most memorable time he’d used his presence to settle Marcus’s senses – but at the same time, his heart gave a counter-flip.  Clearly, Declan’s body was of two minds on the subject, and he settled back on his heels so that he could face Marcus without looking down at him.  Tired blue eyes met him, clearly seeking a solution but nearly too hopeless to find one.  It made Declan want to gather him into a hug or defend Marcus in some way from an enemy that had no corporeal form.  His hand was still on Marcus’s shoulder, so he compromised with himself by merely giving a firm squeeze and not letting go.  “Needing help is not embarrassing,” he stated seriously.

One of Marcus’s eyebrows rose.  “No, but getting caught in the bed of an Alpha that isn’t mine?  That would have been pretty embarrassing.  And scandalous.”

After chewing his lip for a moment, Declan drew his hand back to instead scrub it back through his blond hair and admitting, “Actually… Liz and Kobi kind of already know about that.”  As Marcus’s eyes widened and he visibly stopped breathing, Declan added hurriedly, “But it didn’t bother them in the slightest – I mean, they understood why you did it, and like you besides.”

Clearly embarrassed despite the assurances, Marcus dropped his head into his hands and swore fluently.  Declan wasn’t sure whether to feel bad about the secret getting out or amused by the reaction, but tried to look properly sympathetic and understanding when Marcus raised his red face again.  “They seriously know?  For how long?”

“Pretty much since it happened.”

“Goddammit.”

Since Marcus' swearing was rather rare, and since it sounded refreshingly normal to just hear him hissing out defeated expletives, Declan finally couldn’t help but release a smirk.  Marcus saw it, of course, and gave him a gimlet look as he threatened jadedly, “I could seriously beat you to death with a pillow right now.”

“Hey, I didn’t do anything!” the larger young man lifted his hands defensively, but didn’t quite lose his grin because that was not entirely true, “Besides, this proves my point that they understand what’s going on, and don’t have a problem with it.  So…”  Losing some of his volubility, Declan tried his best to play it cool but was fairly sure he failed, “…If you need my presence or anything, all you have to do is ask.” 

“Or turn up unexpectedly at your bedroom door?” Marcus asked in a tone that might have been joking if his eyes didn’t look so hesitantly hopeful.  For a moment, his eyes flickered all over Declan like moths just barely smart enough to realize that alighting on the flame would hurt them: unable to pull away but frightened of closing that last distance between themselves and the well of light and warmth before them.  Face, shoulders, chest, Declan's easy posture, and capable hands draped over crossed legs – the Omega’s eyes flitted across every point before landing on his own lap. 

After a moment, Declan answered with soft sincerity, “You can do that, too.”

While Marcus refused to step outside the house in his distinctive wolf form, that didn’t mean he abhorred the outdoors entirely – and it wasn’t long before Liz, in her insatiable manner, got him outside as well.  It was always curious to watch, from Declan’s point of view.  He maintained a certain (if small) level of aloofness from his pack and therefore spent the majority of his time standing aside while his Betas and his ‘adopted’ Omega gamboled about.  It leads to many soft smiles that no one else noticed as he saw a fondly tolerant Marcus – in human form – being coaxed out of the house by Liz and Kobi – both in wolf form.  With gentle jaws, they caught hold of his clothing and hands and looked like nothing so much as two children at that moment. Marcus put up with it patiently, protesting that he couldn’t play around with them on equal footing because he just had his human body right now, and that wasn’t going to change.  However, the brown-haired young man also seemed to have taken to heart Declan’s assurances that he was safe from any repercussions in his games with Liz and Kobi. 

It was true that Marcus wasn’t exactly rambunctious – that would have been too far outside his character, right now – but he did bat at Liz’s snout as she mouthed at his wrists and hands, and tugged at Kobi’s thick ruff in counterpoint to the larger wolf shoulder-checking him.  Marcus wasn’t notably strong by Werewolf standards, but he was still more powerful than he looked, and actually managed to tug Kobi around a little, much to Liz’s delight.  From where he was sitting on the steps, Declan kept up a telepathic link, occasionally reminding his Betas not to jump on Marcus and to keep their claws sheathed.  If they’d been letting off steam with Declan or just each other, they could have been quite rough, knowing that even mild scratches or bites would heal up in no time.  Marcus was different, however, and it didn’t take much for Liz and Kobi to keep that in mind, even in the heat of a good bit of roughhousing.  Of course, their gentleness opened up Liz for a shocking headlock about ten minutes in, and Declan burst out laughing even as the female Beta yipped and wriggled.  Showing more bravery than Declan had expected, Marcus maintained his grip – although chuckling, a smile spreading across his face and causing that surprisingly impish wrinkle on his nose – for a good minute or two before letting Liz go.  With her prodigious strength, Liz could have escaped on her own before then, and everyone probably knew it.  But she didn’t, and it was worth the bashful, flushed look of pride on Marcus’s face as he straightened again and folded his arms. 

Kobi transformed behind Marcus and came forward to clap him on the shoulder.  The smaller Werewolf jumped, but already the Beta was saying calmly and with a smirk just hiding at the corner of his mouth, “Admit it, Liz.  The pup’s got you beat.”

“I’m not a pup-” Marcus started to indignantly protest, but then stopped as Liz – with an amused, lupine huff – rolled over on her back.  Marcus looked at her like he’d never seen someone show any kind of subservience to him before, and Declan abruptly wondered what kind of pack experiences Marcus had had before all of this.  He wouldn’t ask, in respect to the dead, but he was curious nonetheless.  Instead, he merely felt a soft warmth in his heart as he saw Marcus shuffle his feet and duck his head, bashfully running his fingers through his hair until Liz flipped agilely to her paws again.