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Title: Surrender 5/7
Fandom: Grimm
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Nick/Monroe
Summary: Just when Nick's life is changing, Monroe is attacked by a Grimm, mixing up their lives further.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own words.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4
Chapter 5
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At one point during the chase, Monroe had dumped his clothes and switched to wolf form, the two extra legs giving him more speed, but he was still lagging, his injured lung and rib protesting the excess, so not remotely healed, how the hell had he thought so. Every step felt like there was a white hot blade wedged in his chest. In addition to the hole in his shoulder, he now had one through his left ear, that last bullet coming too close to his head.
Where the hell was Nick? He might still be miles away, too far to help, and Monroe had been forced to abandon his phone along with his clothes somewhere back there.
He started to stumble, limping on his left front leg. He couldn’t keep this up for much longer. Pure adrenaline had been fueling him for the past ten minutes and that was going to run out soon. His limbs were weakening, his vision starting to blur. A tree root caught his right foot and he crashed onto the grass. Picking himself up as best he could, he scurried behind the tree, panting, his heart beating in his ears. She would be upon him soon.
He would have to fight. It would use up the last of his strength, but he had to try. Should have told Nick his feelings weren’t one sided. At least a kiss, a little something to remember Monroe by.
He could smell her easily now, sweat having washed off enough of the wolfsbane, not that she trying to be subtle with her movements anymore. She was close, so close that every survival instinct in him was screaming and pushing his shaky legs upright to get ready to go for her throat.
Her footsteps sounded not four yards away, three, two…
He jumped, knocking her over, but before his paws hit her chest, she’d turned the rifle around, gripping it with both hands to bar him from reaching her throat. The damn thing dug into his chest and neck as he snapped his teeth inches from her face, scratching everywhere with his claws, the sprinkling of blood singing in his ears, but they were only surface scratches, not deep enough to kill. If he could only sink his teeth into her throat, she would be dead. It was so close, so very, very close, but his chest was screaming, the loss of blood from his shoulder wound making his limbs sluggish and his head heavy. At full strength, he would have had her. Now it was too easy for her to swing him off her and crack her rifle over his head.
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Seeing Monroe lying on the ground with a rifle pointed at his head filled Nick with so much ire that he almost shot the Grimm right there. Only his strictest police training kept his trigger finger from jerking back.
“Stop!” he shouted. “Put down your weapon and step away from him. Now!”
She did neither, only raised her head to look at him. Female all right, in her late thirties or early forties, only a few inches shorter than Nick, and definitely of the old school, given the stern glower she fixed on him, as if he were an eight year old child who didn’t know the most basic facts about life.
“Neither cops nor Grimm protect blutbaden,” she said.
“This one does.”
“Proving you’re an idiot.”
“He’s not like the others.”
She snorted at that, derision overtaking her face.
“He’s exactly like the others.”
She took a step back, leaning toward the tree directly behind her, and Nick’s hand tightened on his gun.
“Don’t move,” he said.
“I doubt you’re going to shoot the first Grimm you’ve met since your aunt died.”
“Try me.”
Moving so fast that his finger didn’t have time to move, she ducked behind the tree while firing over his head. He fired back, but she was off and running, weaving through the trees, and not one of his bullets hit her as far as he could tell. Every bit of him itched to go after her, but Monroe was lying unconscious on the ground, wounded and helpless. Nick couldn’t leave him. She’d probably been counting on that.
Kneeling beside Monroe, he touched his neck, then slid his hand down to his chest, sobbing in relief when he felt a pulse against his palm, though it was faint, but whether that was due to wolf anatomy or Monroe’s weakened state, he did not know. He stroked his hands along the soft fur to check for injuries, starting with the deep gash in his shoulder that had matted his fur red. It didn’t look too bad, but he couldn’t determine what kind of injury it would be on a human body. There was a bullet hole in Monroe’s right ear, but nothing else that he could find. Taking off his shirt, Nick pressed it against Monroe’s shoulder, but blood immediately started soaking through the fabric. They needed to move. Now. as a teenager, he’d carried his old Labrador a couple of times. A full grown wolf was a whole other deal. His legs fumbled to straighten out as he hoisted the huge canine in his arms, his back nearly giving out, but this was no time to be nice to be his body. He stumbled back to the car, thankful that the house was just two minutes away.
Once there, he laid Monroe across the kitchen table and went off in search of the first aid kit, praying that Monroe would wake up soon. He’d never treated an animal before. Juliette always took care of these things. God, he could sure use her help now. But how to even begin explaining this? If Monroe would just wake up, they could go to the hospital, no problem, but no amount of shaking would rouse him.
Come on, Monroe. Wake up. You have to wake up.
Nick had no medical training. He didn’t know if Monroe had a torn tendon or if waiting to get medical assistance might cause irrevocable damage, and he’d been running on that injury, probably aggravating his lung and rib, too. Godammnit! Why had Monroe been out by himself? He cleaned out the wounds as best he could and bandaged them. At least stemming the blood flow would be something. But Monroe still didn’t wake. Desperate, Nick grabbed the drain cleaner and shoved it under Monroe’s nose, who sneezed.
“Sorry,” Nick said, jumping back as Monroe growled around him before his eyes fixed on Nick. Monroe sagged back against the table, his body elongating as he shifted back to human form. On hindsight, Nick should have expected the naked, but between his nerves being scattered everywhere and fearing for Monroe’s life, he’d overlooked the absence of clothes and what they covered up, so he might have glanced at less than appropriate places of Monroe’s body before turning back to Monroe’s face and yanking his mindset back into emergency mode. Injured. Hospital. Now.
“What happened?” Monroe asked, his eyelids fluttering despite his sudden alertness. Nick had never seen him look so drained. His skin was so wan it would soon match computer paper. Nick wanted to touch him, to comfort him with gentle caresses and kisses and hold him close, swearing that the Grimm would never get close to him again. He did touch him, but only to fix his shoulder bandage, which had come undone with the new body shape. At least, the ear one held.
“She knocked you out,” Nick said. “I chased her off. Well, actually, she got away. I’ll explain the rest in the car. We have to get you to a hospital. I’ll get your clothes.”
After running to Monroe’s room and back, he helped Monroe put his jeans on, for he was so weak he couldn’t manage on his own. Nick tried not to look at his friend’s newly revealed parts To be honest, he was too worried to think about sex right now. He laid Monroe’s shirt over his shoulders more for warmth than anything. No sense wasting time in putting it on.
At the emergency room, the nurse greeted him by name. Between Aunt Marie, a few creature induced injuries and Monroe’s attacks, he was becoming more familiar with the hospital than a person should. While they ran all the usual tests, Nick returned to the park and informed the station about the attack. He gave them the runaround when they asked why he didn’t call for backup, but he was used to that by now. There were too many creature incidents the force couldn’t handle.
Finding shoe prints was no problem now. They were everywhere, both the Grimm’s and Monroe’s, save that Monroe’s shifted into wolf paws halfway through the park, where his clothes lied. He searched Monroe’s jean pockets. Wallet. Keys. No cell phone. Had he dropped it somewhere else or had the Grimm taken it? Nick tried calling it, but it went straight to voicemail. Either the battery died or the Grimm took it and turned it off. Either way, they couldn’t track it. Back at the hospital, he asked Monroe where he had left his phone. Yep, in the jean pocket.
“Maybe she’ll call you later,” Monroe said, head leaning heavily on the pillow. “Have a nice Grimm on Grimm chat.”
“I don’t want to have a chat with her. I want to put her behind bars for the rest of her life.”
Monroe smiled.
“That’d be brilliant.”
His eyes were closed again, exhaustion evident in the limpness of his face. He’d needed a transfusion, but his shoulder wasn’t too bad. If the bullet had landed just an inch lower, Monroe wouldn’t have been able to run in wolf form at all. Even in human form, the pain might have slowed him down so much that the Grimm would have caught up and Nick would have arrived to find Monroe with a bullet in his skull.
Nick’s hands trembled as he pushed the thought away. He pressed them together, his fingers squeezing against each other.
“I won’t let her hurt you,” he said, his voice so tight he had to fight to keep it from shaking. “I swear it. Not again.”
“It’s okay. You saved me.”
Monroe was looking at him again, eyes filled with warmth and reassurance. It should be Nick comforting him, not the other way around.
“She’ll call you up,” Monroe continued, “you’ll meet for coffee and then you’ll nail her ass. And I’ll be cheering you on with my brand new sling. Jeez, I just got rid of the other one.”
A tiny smile lightened Nick’s lips for a second at Monroe’s attempt to cheer him up. If he had been just a second slower in getting to the park, he would have never heard his wonderful voice again. Monroe would have died without knowing how much he meant to Nick, that he had gone from friend to becoming everything.
“Monroe?”
“Hm?”
“I…”
His tongue stilled, mouth moving, unable to summon sufficient air to form the words he was burning to say. Monroe’s eyes were on him, waiting, wondering. They could turn awkward and discomfited so easily.
“You need to rest,” Nick finished. Coward, a voice in his head shouted. But Monroe really did need his rest now, not more stress or love declarations after a life or death situation.
“Nick? I know.”
“What?”
Nick looked up. Monroe was holding out his hand for Nick to take. Nick did, not sure what he should do.
“I know, you idiot.” Never had an insult sounded so affectionate. “I could smell you on my hand when I woke up here last time. And I saw you get jealous over that female blutbad. Didn’t even need to smell you to tell. It’s not just you.”
Monroe kissed his hand, just like Nick had kissed Monroe’s while fearing for his friend’s life a month ago, a tender press of skin expressing more than words could say. God, he had smelled that, too. Brightness started bubbling in Nick’s stomach.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.
“You had Juliette hanging over your head. I wanted to wait until you were over her. Still not sure you are.”
“Oh, I am. I am.”
Nick leaned over Monroe and kissed him, letting him know exactly how over her he was, that Monroe was the only one in his heart, for it was true. Juliette was no more than a fond memory now, a flipped over page in his past, never to be returned to again.
He had to brace himself against the mattress not to fall against Monroe, their hands clutched between them, neither willing to let go, until Monroe groaned, making Nick pull back.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, crestfallen at the wince stretched across Monroe’s face.
“I’ll live, Nick. Don’t fret so much. Though you could have picked better timing. Couldn’t you have told me yesterday, when I was healthy?”
“You were not. We’ve got the proof right here. Your rib still hasn’t healed. And I was going to postpone it, but you insisted,” he added with a grin.
“You looked like Bambi when his mother died. What else was I supposed to do?”
Nick wanted to smack him for that, but for obvious reasons, he didn’t.
“Come on,” he said, detaching himself from Monroe. “You really do need to sleep.”
“I don’t wanna sleep now.”
Ignoring the plaintive whine, Nick pressed Monroe’s hand back on the mattress and sat down on the chair, smiling at the adorable scowl on Monroe’s face.
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The next day, Monroe was out of the hospital and back home, as if he’d never left, save that now instead of having a friend, he had a boyfriend, who he could grab and kiss whenever he wanted, always receiving a most enthusiastic response. Well, almost always.
“It’s not going to hurt me if we have sex,” Monroe said as he dragged Nick into his bedroom, his right arm wrapped around his waist. He dropped light kisses on the man’s mouth and jaw, pressing their bodies together so Nick could feel the full extent of his ardor, reveling in his newfound freedom to indulge in the heavenly taste and feel of Nick’s supple skin. “Come on. You want to. I can feel it.”
“It’s still too soon. You just got out of the hospital.”
Nick had his hands at Monroe’s chest, but instead of pushing him away, he arched his head up to meet Monroe’s mouth, giving in so easily.
“With a light shoulder injury.”
“It’s not light. You have a sling on.”
“It could have been worse.”
“You needed a blood transfusion.”
“Making me feel so much better.”
“And you aggravated your chest injury.”
Monroe lifted his head, putting some space between their faces so he could look at Nick properly. His pupils were dilated, his scent musky and aroused, wanting this so badly, but worry crowded it out in those earnest eyes.
“Look,” Monroe said, rubbing his shoulders. “I’m desperate to get better. The wait is driving me crazy. I wouldn’t risk that. Although waiting for you has also had me going nutty. You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to pull you on top of me and kiss you.”
Grinning, Nick stroked down the uninjured side of Monroe’s chest in a teasing glide, sliding to the base of Monroe’s spine as Monroe’s breathing grew heavy with need.
“I know what that feels like,” Nick said.
“If I’m in pain, I’ll tell you and you can yell at me all you want, ok?”
“You promise?” Nick looked at him sternly. “Any pain at all?”
“Yes, I promise. I swear. I solemnly vow to abide by your medical expertise. Just please let me touch you.”
This time, Nick threw away his objections and surrendered into the kiss, grabbing the back of Monroe’s neck, although he was careful not to press too close to Monroe’s injuries. Soreness pinched at Monroe’s shoulder when Nick helped him peel his shirt off, but there was no need to burden him with such a minor detail. Nick kissed his hip as he kneeled down to remove Monroe’s jeans and boxers, yearning to unwrap Monroe all by himself, it seemed, and Monroe didn’t object at all, especially not when Nick dropped a kiss on his erection before moving back up to strip off his own clothes. Monroe watched with increasing fervor as more of Nick’s luscious skin was revealed and Nick obliged him with such speed that he tripped over one pant leg, needing to catch himself on the footboard of the bed.
“Woah,” Monroe said, gripping his shoulder to pull him upright. “Don’t go joining me in the injured camp.”
My, but Nick was nice to look at. No doughnut induced love handles for this detective, all fit and trim, the odd scar here and there only adding to his appeal. Monroe wanted to kiss every last bit of him, sliding his tongue from his head to those cute, little toes, with the grand finish right at the erection he rushed to fondle with his hand, earning a greedy kiss from Nick, who moaned in his mouth while pushing Monroe back toward the bed. As soon as Monroe lied down on his back, Nick climbed atop him and kissed him again, groaning as Monroe rubbed their erections together, his hand joining Monroe’s soon enough, and Monroe’s breath deepened into a growl, deeper and lustier than a human’s could ever be.
He jerked back, verifying that his human form was still in place, apprehension coiling in his nerves.
“Are you alright?” Nick asked, frowning at him.
“Yes.” Monroe took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Yes. No pain, I promise.”
He pulled Nick to him again, kissing the doubt away, but then Nick started nuzzling down Monroe’s neck in big, open mouthed kisses and Monroe surprised himself by arching his neck back, offering it to Nick to taste and lick and do whatever he wanted with it. For humans this was just another pleasurable activity, but for blutbaden, it meant something else entirely. Maybe Nick had seen the wolf equivalent on the Discovery Channel or something, although it would be a gross mistranslation, but Monroe doubted he was making the connection.
“You can add a little teeth there if you want,” Monroe murmured, clutching at Nick’s back.
“Wait? Is this like with wolves?”
There we go.
“Kinda, yeah.”
“Does this mean you’re mine?” Nick breathed on the side of Monroe’s neck, amusement dancing in his tone.
“Don’t go getting cheeky on me,” Monroe said, but any further protests evaporated on his tongue when Nick dragged his incisors along Monroe’s throat, making Monroe whimper. He tightened his arms around Nick’s waist, pressing him to him as closely as he could as little keens rose from his throat. Nick’s nails dragged down Monroe’s side, gentle, little scratches that curled into his groin and he widened his legs, bracing his heels against the mattress to push himself up into Nick. He needed more, harder, deeper, his breath rasping in short gasps.
“I think I’m going to like this wolf thing,” Nick said, curving his tongue around a collar bone before licking Monroe’s chest, down his stomach, into the crook of his inner thigh and oh dear god. Nick had swallowed nearly all of him in one go, his mouth so wet and tight and perfect, tongue licking him up to the tip, teasing his tip with a stroke before diving down again. Monroe’s trapped hand fisted in his cloth confinements, his right gripping Nick’s shoulder. He’d started rumbling deep in his chest, begging for more, more, more, so of course, Nick picked the worst moment ever to stop.
“Is that a good sound?” he asked, breath wonderfully warm on Monroe’s wet skin, but it was supposed to be tongue Monroe was feeling now, not breath. Why must Nick torture him like this?
“Yes, Nick. Please carry on.”
Nick did. Oh thank you thank you thank you. Clever fingers started kneading Monroe’s balls. Thank you so very much.
He came much too soon, but it had been forever since the last time he’d had sex and he’d been starving for Nick for months, and his body was just tired, ok, so he embarrassed himself a little by spurting into Nick’s mouth sooner than expected, his body falling limp against the bed, breath coming hard and fast, making his chest sore, but who cared? The endorphins dancing through his body would take care of that soon enough.
Nick kissed his left inner thigh before climbing back up to lean over Monroe.
“Did you like it?” he asked, his lips reddened by the exercise, so plump and delicious. Monroe could kiss him all day.
“You know, you ask the stupidest questions sometimes.”
A lusty grin overtook that gorgeous mouth.
“No pain?”
“Again you with that? Does it look like I’m in pain? Come on. Your turn.” He tried to open his legs, but it was a bit tricky with Nick sitting atop them. “You’re going to need to move a bit there.”
Nick shifted back, kneeling between Monroe’s legs.
“Are you sure?” he asked. Need flushed his face, mingled with curiosity and want and always that goddamn worry.
“When do I ever insist on something when I’m not sure? You remember the neck thing? Big cue that I definitely want you to do this.”
“Is that how it works? I thought, I don’t know, blutbad, you might be more interested in, well.”
Despite his recent orgasm, desire sparked deep in Monroe’s groin.
“You want me to fuck you?”
Nick’s flush deepened, his hands curling around Monroe’s thighs, eyes soft and lusty as he looked back up at Monroe, gaze heated.
“I would like that, yes. But I’m not saying I don’t want to fuck you. I do.”
Nick kissed him, slipping his hand between Monroe’s thighs as he did so, fingers slipping along the edge of his entrance, teasing him with tender stokes that had Monroe groaning. He clutched at Nick’s back, his legs rising to accommodate Nick’s body, needing, pleading, the rubbing of Nick’s cock against the crook of his thigh driving him mad.
“There’s some lube in the outer pocket of my suitcase,” he said against Nick’s mouth.
“When did you get that?”
“Last week. In case, I don’t know. If you came around. I didn’t want to have to use the cooking oil. What? I like being prepared,” he added when Nick shook his head, smiling at some inner thought.
“All this time I was afraid you wouldn’t want me and you were off buying lube.”
“Sorry,” Monroe said, feeling a little guilty about that. “Next time I want you, I promise I will tell you immediately.”
“In that case, I forgive you.”
Nick gave him a quick peck on the lips before rising off the bed to look for the lube. By the time he returned to the bed, Monroe had propped his feet up on the mattress, thighs wide to accommodate Nick, who kneeled between them, opening the tube. His eyes slipped shut as he slicked himself, his breath sharpening, flexing the muscles in his chest as it filled his lungs. Monroe took in the delectable sight, his cock twitching with renewed interest as his hips bucked forward, inviting Nick’s fingers. Nick followed the wordless suggestion, his fingers slipping along the hole and Monroe had to try very, very hard not to cant his hips forward and swallow those fingers whole. He dug his head back against the pillow, his breath hard and fast in his chest, curling around the edge of a growl, hand clutching the sheets so hard that claws might emerge any second.
“I think that’s enough,” he gasped after Nick had spent entirely too long teasing him half to death. He needed more than fingers, please Nick please.
“You sure? I’ve never actually done this before.”
Huh?
Monroe stared at him, blinking back the daze in his eyes.
“That can’t have been the first blow job you’ve done. It was too good.”
Delicious, wonderful, excellent, he thought, though he might be a little biased due to who was doing it and the year long dry spell, but yes, quite great.
“Thank you,” Nick said, grinning. “Blowjobs I’ve done, but not this. I never managed to get this far.”
“I always have to teach you everything, don’t I?” Monroe asked, as this were some great, onerous task, but a feral grin stretched his lips as he reveled in the knowledge that he would be Nick’s first in this.
Nick returned the smile.
“You’re a good teacher.”
“Then mind what I tell you. Put the lube down and get in me already.”
“Yes, sir.”
Nick tossed the lube over the side of the bed and lied down atop Monroe, careful not to rest over his left side.
“Put your left shoulder under my leg. Normally, you’d be doing that with both legs, but I’m a little maimed here.”
“I’ll be careful,” Nick said, bracing his right arm between Monroe’s left arm and his side. “This isn’t going to hurt you, is it?” Monroe glared at him. “Alright, alright. I won’t ask again.”
That promise was going to last ten seconds, but the hell with it.
“Just angle it a bit to the right and it should be alright. Now, this is pretty much what you’re used to, except, well, not. And there’s different geography. You know about the different geography, right?”
“Yes,” Nick nodded, face inches from Monroe’s by this point, making his nervousness more evident.
“Good. I’ll guide you if you get lost, don’t worry. Stop fretting. Just go slowly at first.”
“Okay.”
Monroe guided him in. His head fell back as the head pushed through, stretching him wide, setting his teeth in a growl at the sting.
“You ok?” Nick asked.
“Yes.” Monroe pushed back the teeth sharpening in his mouth, making sure fully human fingers grasped Nick’s shoulder. “Keep going.”
Nick went slowly, so very careful, drawing out every hint of sensation even as his eyes shut, want aching in his shivering frame at the need to thrust forward, but he wouldn’t, not without Monroe’s direction. Now who was being a good boy? After fully seating himself inside Monroe, Nick pulled back, equally slowly, but the ache was mostly gone now, just an initial discomfort, far more pleasurable sensations awakening in its stead.
“You can go faster now,” Monroe said, squeezing Nick’s shoulder.
Nick didn’t need any more prompting, though he still held himself back as he gained a decent amount of speed, but decent wasn’t good enough, nowhere near it, not if he wanted to—
Sparks exploded behind Monroe’s eyes. He growled, squeezing Nick’s shoulder so hard it probably hurt, but it was hard to hold back now, not with Nick finally hitting that spot.
“Do that again,” he moaned. “Right there.”
“Here?”
Nick hit it again, faster this time, setting every limb in Monroe’s body trembling.
“Yes! Can you just…hnnn… push me up a bit. Yes. Like that.”
“You like that better?”
“God, yes.”
Monroe didn’t object to Nick’s proud grin, not in the least, not when he was thrusting against that spot head on, drawing every last breath out of Monroe’s body. He was hard again, his erection rubbing against Nick’s stomach, not enough friction, but detaching his hand from Nick’s shoulder was a little difficult. Even his left hand was gripping the inside of the sling, anchoring him as he dropped his head back, exposing his neck for Nick, who answered his request with an open mouth, his teeth scraping against the tender skin of Monroe’s throat every time he thrust straight into Monroe’s soul.
He came before Nick did. Neither had touched his erection at any point and yet… His eyes shut, body floating in the brightest afterglow as Nick kept thrusting, coming a bit later, his breath wet on Monroe’s collarbone. They disentangled themselves from each other and Nick collapsed at his side.
“Need I ask if you liked it,” Nick said, voice pleasantly muddled, “or it a stupid question?”
A chuckle slipped past Monroe’s lips.
“It’s a stupid question.”
“Good.”
Nick’s heart thumped so strongly that it seemed to sing right into Monroe’s ear.
“Are you sure you’ve never done that before?”
Nick laughed, head falling across Monroe’s collarbone as he leaned against him.
“I’m pretty sure.”
“If that was a first time, I can’t wait to feel what you’ll be like once you have some practice in you.”
“I’ll make sure to get plenty of practice, then, if my teacher’s obliging.”
“Oh, I’ll be dragging you into the classroom myself.”
Feeling something wet against his shoulder, he looked down, then jumped upwards at seeing blood smeared on his skin.
“Are you bleeding?” he asked, tugging at Nick’s shoulder to get a better look. Five claws marks curled over his shoulder blade right where Monroe had gripped him. He groaned when he saw his own fingertips stained red.
“Didn’t you notice?” Nick asked, frowning. “You wolfed out about halfway through.”
Oh no. No no. no no no, this was not happening.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, panic making his voice sound shrill. What if he’d bitten Nick or maimed him or even killed him? It could happen. It had happened. Not to him, but to others. That’s why he was always so careful not to lose himself completely, even when it bordered on paranoia. “I stuck my claws in you. How does that not merit a mention?”
“I liked it,” Nick said. “It was very arousing. Monroe, look at me.”
Nick propped himself up on his left arm, hiding the claw marks Monroe had been staring at with such horror that his stomach was flopping around everywhere, a cold sweat breaking out through his skin.
“Monroe.”
Nick grabbed the back of his neck, pulling Monroe’s face upward, his expression lacking any fear or disgust. How could he look at Monroe like that when Monroe had been too careless to even notice his own failure. Nick’s cry of pain had probably been masked in a moan. How could Monroe not tell the difference?
“Monroe, you didn’t hurt me,” Nick said.
“I did. Look at you.”
“I hardly felt it. It doesn’t hurt much at all. I mean, you didn’t really hurt me. I trust you. I like that you were fully yourself with me. You’re a blutbad. I don’t forget that. I don’t want to forget that, not for a second. And I know you would never let yourself go so much that you would really harm me.”
“You can’t make that true just because you say it.”
“The fact that you’re so worried about it is a point in my favor.”
Monroe wanted to point out that if he were so certain, he wouldn’t be scared to death about it, but as his initial shock worked its way out of his system, he started analyzing the situation. Perhaps Nick had a point. That feral part of him, guided only by blood and instinct, that he fought so hard to repress had broken through just when Monroe had come undone, never more dangerous than when Monroe wasn’t aware of it, but instead of tearing Nick apart and feasting on his tender flesh like all blutbaden yearned to do in the innermost part of their souls (other than fleeing in terror before their hide decorated a Grimm’s mantelpiece), he had offered his throat to Nick and said “please”, welcoming the owning brand of Nick’s teeth, surrendering completely. Taking a deep breath, Monroe inhaled every subtle cadence of Nick’s scent, and realized that the usual cornucopia of contradictory ‘enemy’ and ‘friend’ and ‘predator’ and ‘confidante’ were all squashed under a single all-encompassing feeling.
Mate.
Oh.
His head fell back on the pillow, exhaustion claiming every muscle.
“Fine,” he said, refusing to sound anything less than cross about it. “But if it happens again, I want you to tell me immediately, you understand?”
“Okay.”
Nick kissed his shoulder.
Chapter 6
Fandom: Grimm
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Nick/Monroe
Summary: Just when Nick's life is changing, Monroe is attacked by a Grimm, mixing up their lives further.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own words.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4
Chapter 5
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At one point during the chase, Monroe had dumped his clothes and switched to wolf form, the two extra legs giving him more speed, but he was still lagging, his injured lung and rib protesting the excess, so not remotely healed, how the hell had he thought so. Every step felt like there was a white hot blade wedged in his chest. In addition to the hole in his shoulder, he now had one through his left ear, that last bullet coming too close to his head.
Where the hell was Nick? He might still be miles away, too far to help, and Monroe had been forced to abandon his phone along with his clothes somewhere back there.
He started to stumble, limping on his left front leg. He couldn’t keep this up for much longer. Pure adrenaline had been fueling him for the past ten minutes and that was going to run out soon. His limbs were weakening, his vision starting to blur. A tree root caught his right foot and he crashed onto the grass. Picking himself up as best he could, he scurried behind the tree, panting, his heart beating in his ears. She would be upon him soon.
He would have to fight. It would use up the last of his strength, but he had to try. Should have told Nick his feelings weren’t one sided. At least a kiss, a little something to remember Monroe by.
He could smell her easily now, sweat having washed off enough of the wolfsbane, not that she trying to be subtle with her movements anymore. She was close, so close that every survival instinct in him was screaming and pushing his shaky legs upright to get ready to go for her throat.
Her footsteps sounded not four yards away, three, two…
He jumped, knocking her over, but before his paws hit her chest, she’d turned the rifle around, gripping it with both hands to bar him from reaching her throat. The damn thing dug into his chest and neck as he snapped his teeth inches from her face, scratching everywhere with his claws, the sprinkling of blood singing in his ears, but they were only surface scratches, not deep enough to kill. If he could only sink his teeth into her throat, she would be dead. It was so close, so very, very close, but his chest was screaming, the loss of blood from his shoulder wound making his limbs sluggish and his head heavy. At full strength, he would have had her. Now it was too easy for her to swing him off her and crack her rifle over his head.
||||
Seeing Monroe lying on the ground with a rifle pointed at his head filled Nick with so much ire that he almost shot the Grimm right there. Only his strictest police training kept his trigger finger from jerking back.
“Stop!” he shouted. “Put down your weapon and step away from him. Now!”
She did neither, only raised her head to look at him. Female all right, in her late thirties or early forties, only a few inches shorter than Nick, and definitely of the old school, given the stern glower she fixed on him, as if he were an eight year old child who didn’t know the most basic facts about life.
“Neither cops nor Grimm protect blutbaden,” she said.
“This one does.”
“Proving you’re an idiot.”
“He’s not like the others.”
She snorted at that, derision overtaking her face.
“He’s exactly like the others.”
She took a step back, leaning toward the tree directly behind her, and Nick’s hand tightened on his gun.
“Don’t move,” he said.
“I doubt you’re going to shoot the first Grimm you’ve met since your aunt died.”
“Try me.”
Moving so fast that his finger didn’t have time to move, she ducked behind the tree while firing over his head. He fired back, but she was off and running, weaving through the trees, and not one of his bullets hit her as far as he could tell. Every bit of him itched to go after her, but Monroe was lying unconscious on the ground, wounded and helpless. Nick couldn’t leave him. She’d probably been counting on that.
Kneeling beside Monroe, he touched his neck, then slid his hand down to his chest, sobbing in relief when he felt a pulse against his palm, though it was faint, but whether that was due to wolf anatomy or Monroe’s weakened state, he did not know. He stroked his hands along the soft fur to check for injuries, starting with the deep gash in his shoulder that had matted his fur red. It didn’t look too bad, but he couldn’t determine what kind of injury it would be on a human body. There was a bullet hole in Monroe’s right ear, but nothing else that he could find. Taking off his shirt, Nick pressed it against Monroe’s shoulder, but blood immediately started soaking through the fabric. They needed to move. Now. as a teenager, he’d carried his old Labrador a couple of times. A full grown wolf was a whole other deal. His legs fumbled to straighten out as he hoisted the huge canine in his arms, his back nearly giving out, but this was no time to be nice to be his body. He stumbled back to the car, thankful that the house was just two minutes away.
Once there, he laid Monroe across the kitchen table and went off in search of the first aid kit, praying that Monroe would wake up soon. He’d never treated an animal before. Juliette always took care of these things. God, he could sure use her help now. But how to even begin explaining this? If Monroe would just wake up, they could go to the hospital, no problem, but no amount of shaking would rouse him.
Come on, Monroe. Wake up. You have to wake up.
Nick had no medical training. He didn’t know if Monroe had a torn tendon or if waiting to get medical assistance might cause irrevocable damage, and he’d been running on that injury, probably aggravating his lung and rib, too. Godammnit! Why had Monroe been out by himself? He cleaned out the wounds as best he could and bandaged them. At least stemming the blood flow would be something. But Monroe still didn’t wake. Desperate, Nick grabbed the drain cleaner and shoved it under Monroe’s nose, who sneezed.
“Sorry,” Nick said, jumping back as Monroe growled around him before his eyes fixed on Nick. Monroe sagged back against the table, his body elongating as he shifted back to human form. On hindsight, Nick should have expected the naked, but between his nerves being scattered everywhere and fearing for Monroe’s life, he’d overlooked the absence of clothes and what they covered up, so he might have glanced at less than appropriate places of Monroe’s body before turning back to Monroe’s face and yanking his mindset back into emergency mode. Injured. Hospital. Now.
“What happened?” Monroe asked, his eyelids fluttering despite his sudden alertness. Nick had never seen him look so drained. His skin was so wan it would soon match computer paper. Nick wanted to touch him, to comfort him with gentle caresses and kisses and hold him close, swearing that the Grimm would never get close to him again. He did touch him, but only to fix his shoulder bandage, which had come undone with the new body shape. At least, the ear one held.
“She knocked you out,” Nick said. “I chased her off. Well, actually, she got away. I’ll explain the rest in the car. We have to get you to a hospital. I’ll get your clothes.”
After running to Monroe’s room and back, he helped Monroe put his jeans on, for he was so weak he couldn’t manage on his own. Nick tried not to look at his friend’s newly revealed parts To be honest, he was too worried to think about sex right now. He laid Monroe’s shirt over his shoulders more for warmth than anything. No sense wasting time in putting it on.
At the emergency room, the nurse greeted him by name. Between Aunt Marie, a few creature induced injuries and Monroe’s attacks, he was becoming more familiar with the hospital than a person should. While they ran all the usual tests, Nick returned to the park and informed the station about the attack. He gave them the runaround when they asked why he didn’t call for backup, but he was used to that by now. There were too many creature incidents the force couldn’t handle.
Finding shoe prints was no problem now. They were everywhere, both the Grimm’s and Monroe’s, save that Monroe’s shifted into wolf paws halfway through the park, where his clothes lied. He searched Monroe’s jean pockets. Wallet. Keys. No cell phone. Had he dropped it somewhere else or had the Grimm taken it? Nick tried calling it, but it went straight to voicemail. Either the battery died or the Grimm took it and turned it off. Either way, they couldn’t track it. Back at the hospital, he asked Monroe where he had left his phone. Yep, in the jean pocket.
“Maybe she’ll call you later,” Monroe said, head leaning heavily on the pillow. “Have a nice Grimm on Grimm chat.”
“I don’t want to have a chat with her. I want to put her behind bars for the rest of her life.”
Monroe smiled.
“That’d be brilliant.”
His eyes were closed again, exhaustion evident in the limpness of his face. He’d needed a transfusion, but his shoulder wasn’t too bad. If the bullet had landed just an inch lower, Monroe wouldn’t have been able to run in wolf form at all. Even in human form, the pain might have slowed him down so much that the Grimm would have caught up and Nick would have arrived to find Monroe with a bullet in his skull.
Nick’s hands trembled as he pushed the thought away. He pressed them together, his fingers squeezing against each other.
“I won’t let her hurt you,” he said, his voice so tight he had to fight to keep it from shaking. “I swear it. Not again.”
“It’s okay. You saved me.”
Monroe was looking at him again, eyes filled with warmth and reassurance. It should be Nick comforting him, not the other way around.
“She’ll call you up,” Monroe continued, “you’ll meet for coffee and then you’ll nail her ass. And I’ll be cheering you on with my brand new sling. Jeez, I just got rid of the other one.”
A tiny smile lightened Nick’s lips for a second at Monroe’s attempt to cheer him up. If he had been just a second slower in getting to the park, he would have never heard his wonderful voice again. Monroe would have died without knowing how much he meant to Nick, that he had gone from friend to becoming everything.
“Monroe?”
“Hm?”
“I…”
His tongue stilled, mouth moving, unable to summon sufficient air to form the words he was burning to say. Monroe’s eyes were on him, waiting, wondering. They could turn awkward and discomfited so easily.
“You need to rest,” Nick finished. Coward, a voice in his head shouted. But Monroe really did need his rest now, not more stress or love declarations after a life or death situation.
“Nick? I know.”
“What?”
Nick looked up. Monroe was holding out his hand for Nick to take. Nick did, not sure what he should do.
“I know, you idiot.” Never had an insult sounded so affectionate. “I could smell you on my hand when I woke up here last time. And I saw you get jealous over that female blutbad. Didn’t even need to smell you to tell. It’s not just you.”
Monroe kissed his hand, just like Nick had kissed Monroe’s while fearing for his friend’s life a month ago, a tender press of skin expressing more than words could say. God, he had smelled that, too. Brightness started bubbling in Nick’s stomach.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.
“You had Juliette hanging over your head. I wanted to wait until you were over her. Still not sure you are.”
“Oh, I am. I am.”
Nick leaned over Monroe and kissed him, letting him know exactly how over her he was, that Monroe was the only one in his heart, for it was true. Juliette was no more than a fond memory now, a flipped over page in his past, never to be returned to again.
He had to brace himself against the mattress not to fall against Monroe, their hands clutched between them, neither willing to let go, until Monroe groaned, making Nick pull back.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, crestfallen at the wince stretched across Monroe’s face.
“I’ll live, Nick. Don’t fret so much. Though you could have picked better timing. Couldn’t you have told me yesterday, when I was healthy?”
“You were not. We’ve got the proof right here. Your rib still hasn’t healed. And I was going to postpone it, but you insisted,” he added with a grin.
“You looked like Bambi when his mother died. What else was I supposed to do?”
Nick wanted to smack him for that, but for obvious reasons, he didn’t.
“Come on,” he said, detaching himself from Monroe. “You really do need to sleep.”
“I don’t wanna sleep now.”
Ignoring the plaintive whine, Nick pressed Monroe’s hand back on the mattress and sat down on the chair, smiling at the adorable scowl on Monroe’s face.
||||
The next day, Monroe was out of the hospital and back home, as if he’d never left, save that now instead of having a friend, he had a boyfriend, who he could grab and kiss whenever he wanted, always receiving a most enthusiastic response. Well, almost always.
“It’s not going to hurt me if we have sex,” Monroe said as he dragged Nick into his bedroom, his right arm wrapped around his waist. He dropped light kisses on the man’s mouth and jaw, pressing their bodies together so Nick could feel the full extent of his ardor, reveling in his newfound freedom to indulge in the heavenly taste and feel of Nick’s supple skin. “Come on. You want to. I can feel it.”
“It’s still too soon. You just got out of the hospital.”
Nick had his hands at Monroe’s chest, but instead of pushing him away, he arched his head up to meet Monroe’s mouth, giving in so easily.
“With a light shoulder injury.”
“It’s not light. You have a sling on.”
“It could have been worse.”
“You needed a blood transfusion.”
“Making me feel so much better.”
“And you aggravated your chest injury.”
Monroe lifted his head, putting some space between their faces so he could look at Nick properly. His pupils were dilated, his scent musky and aroused, wanting this so badly, but worry crowded it out in those earnest eyes.
“Look,” Monroe said, rubbing his shoulders. “I’m desperate to get better. The wait is driving me crazy. I wouldn’t risk that. Although waiting for you has also had me going nutty. You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to pull you on top of me and kiss you.”
Grinning, Nick stroked down the uninjured side of Monroe’s chest in a teasing glide, sliding to the base of Monroe’s spine as Monroe’s breathing grew heavy with need.
“I know what that feels like,” Nick said.
“If I’m in pain, I’ll tell you and you can yell at me all you want, ok?”
“You promise?” Nick looked at him sternly. “Any pain at all?”
“Yes, I promise. I swear. I solemnly vow to abide by your medical expertise. Just please let me touch you.”
This time, Nick threw away his objections and surrendered into the kiss, grabbing the back of Monroe’s neck, although he was careful not to press too close to Monroe’s injuries. Soreness pinched at Monroe’s shoulder when Nick helped him peel his shirt off, but there was no need to burden him with such a minor detail. Nick kissed his hip as he kneeled down to remove Monroe’s jeans and boxers, yearning to unwrap Monroe all by himself, it seemed, and Monroe didn’t object at all, especially not when Nick dropped a kiss on his erection before moving back up to strip off his own clothes. Monroe watched with increasing fervor as more of Nick’s luscious skin was revealed and Nick obliged him with such speed that he tripped over one pant leg, needing to catch himself on the footboard of the bed.
“Woah,” Monroe said, gripping his shoulder to pull him upright. “Don’t go joining me in the injured camp.”
My, but Nick was nice to look at. No doughnut induced love handles for this detective, all fit and trim, the odd scar here and there only adding to his appeal. Monroe wanted to kiss every last bit of him, sliding his tongue from his head to those cute, little toes, with the grand finish right at the erection he rushed to fondle with his hand, earning a greedy kiss from Nick, who moaned in his mouth while pushing Monroe back toward the bed. As soon as Monroe lied down on his back, Nick climbed atop him and kissed him again, groaning as Monroe rubbed their erections together, his hand joining Monroe’s soon enough, and Monroe’s breath deepened into a growl, deeper and lustier than a human’s could ever be.
He jerked back, verifying that his human form was still in place, apprehension coiling in his nerves.
“Are you alright?” Nick asked, frowning at him.
“Yes.” Monroe took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Yes. No pain, I promise.”
He pulled Nick to him again, kissing the doubt away, but then Nick started nuzzling down Monroe’s neck in big, open mouthed kisses and Monroe surprised himself by arching his neck back, offering it to Nick to taste and lick and do whatever he wanted with it. For humans this was just another pleasurable activity, but for blutbaden, it meant something else entirely. Maybe Nick had seen the wolf equivalent on the Discovery Channel or something, although it would be a gross mistranslation, but Monroe doubted he was making the connection.
“You can add a little teeth there if you want,” Monroe murmured, clutching at Nick’s back.
“Wait? Is this like with wolves?”
There we go.
“Kinda, yeah.”
“Does this mean you’re mine?” Nick breathed on the side of Monroe’s neck, amusement dancing in his tone.
“Don’t go getting cheeky on me,” Monroe said, but any further protests evaporated on his tongue when Nick dragged his incisors along Monroe’s throat, making Monroe whimper. He tightened his arms around Nick’s waist, pressing him to him as closely as he could as little keens rose from his throat. Nick’s nails dragged down Monroe’s side, gentle, little scratches that curled into his groin and he widened his legs, bracing his heels against the mattress to push himself up into Nick. He needed more, harder, deeper, his breath rasping in short gasps.
“I think I’m going to like this wolf thing,” Nick said, curving his tongue around a collar bone before licking Monroe’s chest, down his stomach, into the crook of his inner thigh and oh dear god. Nick had swallowed nearly all of him in one go, his mouth so wet and tight and perfect, tongue licking him up to the tip, teasing his tip with a stroke before diving down again. Monroe’s trapped hand fisted in his cloth confinements, his right gripping Nick’s shoulder. He’d started rumbling deep in his chest, begging for more, more, more, so of course, Nick picked the worst moment ever to stop.
“Is that a good sound?” he asked, breath wonderfully warm on Monroe’s wet skin, but it was supposed to be tongue Monroe was feeling now, not breath. Why must Nick torture him like this?
“Yes, Nick. Please carry on.”
Nick did. Oh thank you thank you thank you. Clever fingers started kneading Monroe’s balls. Thank you so very much.
He came much too soon, but it had been forever since the last time he’d had sex and he’d been starving for Nick for months, and his body was just tired, ok, so he embarrassed himself a little by spurting into Nick’s mouth sooner than expected, his body falling limp against the bed, breath coming hard and fast, making his chest sore, but who cared? The endorphins dancing through his body would take care of that soon enough.
Nick kissed his left inner thigh before climbing back up to lean over Monroe.
“Did you like it?” he asked, his lips reddened by the exercise, so plump and delicious. Monroe could kiss him all day.
“You know, you ask the stupidest questions sometimes.”
A lusty grin overtook that gorgeous mouth.
“No pain?”
“Again you with that? Does it look like I’m in pain? Come on. Your turn.” He tried to open his legs, but it was a bit tricky with Nick sitting atop them. “You’re going to need to move a bit there.”
Nick shifted back, kneeling between Monroe’s legs.
“Are you sure?” he asked. Need flushed his face, mingled with curiosity and want and always that goddamn worry.
“When do I ever insist on something when I’m not sure? You remember the neck thing? Big cue that I definitely want you to do this.”
“Is that how it works? I thought, I don’t know, blutbad, you might be more interested in, well.”
Despite his recent orgasm, desire sparked deep in Monroe’s groin.
“You want me to fuck you?”
Nick’s flush deepened, his hands curling around Monroe’s thighs, eyes soft and lusty as he looked back up at Monroe, gaze heated.
“I would like that, yes. But I’m not saying I don’t want to fuck you. I do.”
Nick kissed him, slipping his hand between Monroe’s thighs as he did so, fingers slipping along the edge of his entrance, teasing him with tender stokes that had Monroe groaning. He clutched at Nick’s back, his legs rising to accommodate Nick’s body, needing, pleading, the rubbing of Nick’s cock against the crook of his thigh driving him mad.
“There’s some lube in the outer pocket of my suitcase,” he said against Nick’s mouth.
“When did you get that?”
“Last week. In case, I don’t know. If you came around. I didn’t want to have to use the cooking oil. What? I like being prepared,” he added when Nick shook his head, smiling at some inner thought.
“All this time I was afraid you wouldn’t want me and you were off buying lube.”
“Sorry,” Monroe said, feeling a little guilty about that. “Next time I want you, I promise I will tell you immediately.”
“In that case, I forgive you.”
Nick gave him a quick peck on the lips before rising off the bed to look for the lube. By the time he returned to the bed, Monroe had propped his feet up on the mattress, thighs wide to accommodate Nick, who kneeled between them, opening the tube. His eyes slipped shut as he slicked himself, his breath sharpening, flexing the muscles in his chest as it filled his lungs. Monroe took in the delectable sight, his cock twitching with renewed interest as his hips bucked forward, inviting Nick’s fingers. Nick followed the wordless suggestion, his fingers slipping along the hole and Monroe had to try very, very hard not to cant his hips forward and swallow those fingers whole. He dug his head back against the pillow, his breath hard and fast in his chest, curling around the edge of a growl, hand clutching the sheets so hard that claws might emerge any second.
“I think that’s enough,” he gasped after Nick had spent entirely too long teasing him half to death. He needed more than fingers, please Nick please.
“You sure? I’ve never actually done this before.”
Huh?
Monroe stared at him, blinking back the daze in his eyes.
“That can’t have been the first blow job you’ve done. It was too good.”
Delicious, wonderful, excellent, he thought, though he might be a little biased due to who was doing it and the year long dry spell, but yes, quite great.
“Thank you,” Nick said, grinning. “Blowjobs I’ve done, but not this. I never managed to get this far.”
“I always have to teach you everything, don’t I?” Monroe asked, as this were some great, onerous task, but a feral grin stretched his lips as he reveled in the knowledge that he would be Nick’s first in this.
Nick returned the smile.
“You’re a good teacher.”
“Then mind what I tell you. Put the lube down and get in me already.”
“Yes, sir.”
Nick tossed the lube over the side of the bed and lied down atop Monroe, careful not to rest over his left side.
“Put your left shoulder under my leg. Normally, you’d be doing that with both legs, but I’m a little maimed here.”
“I’ll be careful,” Nick said, bracing his right arm between Monroe’s left arm and his side. “This isn’t going to hurt you, is it?” Monroe glared at him. “Alright, alright. I won’t ask again.”
That promise was going to last ten seconds, but the hell with it.
“Just angle it a bit to the right and it should be alright. Now, this is pretty much what you’re used to, except, well, not. And there’s different geography. You know about the different geography, right?”
“Yes,” Nick nodded, face inches from Monroe’s by this point, making his nervousness more evident.
“Good. I’ll guide you if you get lost, don’t worry. Stop fretting. Just go slowly at first.”
“Okay.”
Monroe guided him in. His head fell back as the head pushed through, stretching him wide, setting his teeth in a growl at the sting.
“You ok?” Nick asked.
“Yes.” Monroe pushed back the teeth sharpening in his mouth, making sure fully human fingers grasped Nick’s shoulder. “Keep going.”
Nick went slowly, so very careful, drawing out every hint of sensation even as his eyes shut, want aching in his shivering frame at the need to thrust forward, but he wouldn’t, not without Monroe’s direction. Now who was being a good boy? After fully seating himself inside Monroe, Nick pulled back, equally slowly, but the ache was mostly gone now, just an initial discomfort, far more pleasurable sensations awakening in its stead.
“You can go faster now,” Monroe said, squeezing Nick’s shoulder.
Nick didn’t need any more prompting, though he still held himself back as he gained a decent amount of speed, but decent wasn’t good enough, nowhere near it, not if he wanted to—
Sparks exploded behind Monroe’s eyes. He growled, squeezing Nick’s shoulder so hard it probably hurt, but it was hard to hold back now, not with Nick finally hitting that spot.
“Do that again,” he moaned. “Right there.”
“Here?”
Nick hit it again, faster this time, setting every limb in Monroe’s body trembling.
“Yes! Can you just…hnnn… push me up a bit. Yes. Like that.”
“You like that better?”
“God, yes.”
Monroe didn’t object to Nick’s proud grin, not in the least, not when he was thrusting against that spot head on, drawing every last breath out of Monroe’s body. He was hard again, his erection rubbing against Nick’s stomach, not enough friction, but detaching his hand from Nick’s shoulder was a little difficult. Even his left hand was gripping the inside of the sling, anchoring him as he dropped his head back, exposing his neck for Nick, who answered his request with an open mouth, his teeth scraping against the tender skin of Monroe’s throat every time he thrust straight into Monroe’s soul.
He came before Nick did. Neither had touched his erection at any point and yet… His eyes shut, body floating in the brightest afterglow as Nick kept thrusting, coming a bit later, his breath wet on Monroe’s collarbone. They disentangled themselves from each other and Nick collapsed at his side.
“Need I ask if you liked it,” Nick said, voice pleasantly muddled, “or it a stupid question?”
A chuckle slipped past Monroe’s lips.
“It’s a stupid question.”
“Good.”
Nick’s heart thumped so strongly that it seemed to sing right into Monroe’s ear.
“Are you sure you’ve never done that before?”
Nick laughed, head falling across Monroe’s collarbone as he leaned against him.
“I’m pretty sure.”
“If that was a first time, I can’t wait to feel what you’ll be like once you have some practice in you.”
“I’ll make sure to get plenty of practice, then, if my teacher’s obliging.”
“Oh, I’ll be dragging you into the classroom myself.”
Feeling something wet against his shoulder, he looked down, then jumped upwards at seeing blood smeared on his skin.
“Are you bleeding?” he asked, tugging at Nick’s shoulder to get a better look. Five claws marks curled over his shoulder blade right where Monroe had gripped him. He groaned when he saw his own fingertips stained red.
“Didn’t you notice?” Nick asked, frowning. “You wolfed out about halfway through.”
Oh no. No no. no no no, this was not happening.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, panic making his voice sound shrill. What if he’d bitten Nick or maimed him or even killed him? It could happen. It had happened. Not to him, but to others. That’s why he was always so careful not to lose himself completely, even when it bordered on paranoia. “I stuck my claws in you. How does that not merit a mention?”
“I liked it,” Nick said. “It was very arousing. Monroe, look at me.”
Nick propped himself up on his left arm, hiding the claw marks Monroe had been staring at with such horror that his stomach was flopping around everywhere, a cold sweat breaking out through his skin.
“Monroe.”
Nick grabbed the back of his neck, pulling Monroe’s face upward, his expression lacking any fear or disgust. How could he look at Monroe like that when Monroe had been too careless to even notice his own failure. Nick’s cry of pain had probably been masked in a moan. How could Monroe not tell the difference?
“Monroe, you didn’t hurt me,” Nick said.
“I did. Look at you.”
“I hardly felt it. It doesn’t hurt much at all. I mean, you didn’t really hurt me. I trust you. I like that you were fully yourself with me. You’re a blutbad. I don’t forget that. I don’t want to forget that, not for a second. And I know you would never let yourself go so much that you would really harm me.”
“You can’t make that true just because you say it.”
“The fact that you’re so worried about it is a point in my favor.”
Monroe wanted to point out that if he were so certain, he wouldn’t be scared to death about it, but as his initial shock worked its way out of his system, he started analyzing the situation. Perhaps Nick had a point. That feral part of him, guided only by blood and instinct, that he fought so hard to repress had broken through just when Monroe had come undone, never more dangerous than when Monroe wasn’t aware of it, but instead of tearing Nick apart and feasting on his tender flesh like all blutbaden yearned to do in the innermost part of their souls (other than fleeing in terror before their hide decorated a Grimm’s mantelpiece), he had offered his throat to Nick and said “please”, welcoming the owning brand of Nick’s teeth, surrendering completely. Taking a deep breath, Monroe inhaled every subtle cadence of Nick’s scent, and realized that the usual cornucopia of contradictory ‘enemy’ and ‘friend’ and ‘predator’ and ‘confidante’ were all squashed under a single all-encompassing feeling.
Mate.
Oh.
His head fell back on the pillow, exhaustion claiming every muscle.
“Fine,” he said, refusing to sound anything less than cross about it. “But if it happens again, I want you to tell me immediately, you understand?”
“Okay.”
Nick kissed his shoulder.
Chapter 6
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Send you a million kisses!!
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With the evil, bitch Grimm hunting poor Monroe and Nick coming to his rescue? Though she did get away, I'm firm in the belief that that's temporary and that there will be a reckoning.
With the mutual confession of their feelings?
Done with sweetness and humor.
With the smoking hotter than a three alarm fire sex?
Which was also sweet and romantic and Monroe's reaction when he thought he hurt Nick and Nick's comforting him and omigod I almost had to go lie down!!
Basically, I adore this story and want to have its little, fuzzy Grimm/Blutbad babies.
Just so you know.
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I almost had to go lie down
I'm happy I got such an intense reaction. It makes me feel all warm inside.
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But I'm so glad I finally had the chance to read--because this was just perfect. The slow build of their relationship offered up some much needed resolution here. You injected just enough humor, as well as maintaining Eddie's control concerns, to make it very much in character for them. Can't wait for more!
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Thank you so much! It was finally time for them to stop fooling themselves and get together already.
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