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heal those bruises and the cracks he still felt in his ribs, he needed to eat. Werewolves couldn't
run on empty forever, especially when healing. He was dizzy and light headed and hurting and
easily confused, and all Axton wanted to do was shift into wolf form, kill and eat something,
and then curl up into a woozy ball and sleep for hours.
None of that was possible at the moment. There was a human present.
When he finally emerged with the bathroom with clean teeth, smooth face, and empty
bladder, Leander was standing in the shadows and looking at him intently. Leander was
watching every move, absorbing it and forecasting the next one. There was a focus in his gaze
that made Axton distinctly uncomfortable: it reminded him of the way he looked at a lone deer
before lunging for its throat.
"Better?" Leander asked, hands clasped around his back, his large frame held in perfect but
tense stillness.
Axton took a few steps towards the bed and stopped, watching warily as Leander took
measured steps to match.
"...I think so," he allowed, stepping sideways twice more.
Leander moved in response and Axton realized, crisp and sudden as his stomach dropped,
that Leander was circling him. There was something very sinister, very threatening, about how
smoothly and deliberately Leander was moving. Axton couldn't make himself look away, as if
Leander might strike the instant he seemed distracted.
"I should hope," Leander said lightly, "That you don't just think, but know. Do you know your
own body, Axton?"
Axton didn't realize he was out of room until his heel bumped into a bedpost as he backed
up. Stupid--he was usually so good at maneuvering, even unconsciously--some great and
fearsome hunter he was, getting backed into figurative and literal corners like that.
"I don't know what you mean," Axton said honestly. His hands curled and uncurled at his
sides, tense from the effort of wanting to bolt but making himself stay still.
"What I mean," Leander said, stepping in now, close, because Axton had nowhere to go, "Is
that I want to know why you're keeping secrets, Axton." He reached out slowly, putting his
hand on Axton's shoulder. Leander pushed.
Axton dropped down, sitting on the edge of the bed. His breath was just a little fast. His
heart, though, was pounding. He looked up at Leander.
"Secrets?" he echoed, mouth dry. He meant to try and say something else, but Leander's
hand was back at his shoulder, and then trailing over his chest, fingers rubbing over his heart.
Axton dropped his eyes, looking away, looking at anything but Leander. His chest was still
shirtless and the room was cold: Leander's hand left a trail of smoldering heat, but the rest of
his skin threatened to burst into goose bumps.
"Secrets," Leander confirmed. He dropped down, crouching to be level with Axton's ear, and
whispered, "Do you have anything you want to tell me, Axton?"
Axton shuddered, because he felt like he would have exploded from the tension if he didn t.
Silence stretched out, thick and suffocating. The words tumbled out of his mouth because
they were the only thing he could say, the only thing he felt there was left to say, and he knew
that Leander had to know the truth.
"You--" Axton started.
"No. Not me. You," Leander said.
Axton stopped, closed his eyes, took a breath. This was it. It was over.
"I've wanted you since the moment I met you," he said whispered, "If you want the truth."
Axton opened his gold eyes and looked into Leander's guarded greys. "I find you more beautiful
than any man I've met in my life."
Leander studied his face, and waited.
"And?" he prompted, voice low.
"And I understand," Axton struggled to say, because he wanted so badly to be reasonable,
"If that makes you uncomfortable, I mean, I've been really obvious, I guess, so if you want me to
leave now an--"
Leander silenced him with fingers brushing against his lips. Axton fell into confused and
troubled silence as Leander sat next to him on the edge of the bed.
"That's all?" Leander murmured, his eyes flickering down to Axton's lips.
"Yes," Axton said, at a loss for why he had to confirm his heart crushing rejection several
times over. "I'm sorry." He was.
Leander's hand had dropped to his shoulder before, and now it traveled up the curve of
Axton's neck.
"For keeping secrets?" he whispered.
"No," Axton whispered back, panicked by how close Leander was, feeling threatened by
how he was moving in slowly, "For--thinking of you--like that. I, just...I..." Was Leander going to
hit him? Axton was half expecting it, already feeling dismay wash through him.
"Do you really think," Leander said softly, leaning closer, lips by Axton's ear again, "That
wanting me is the problem...?"
"Then what--" Axton started, but Leander's hand was on the back of his neck and pulling
him closer and Leander's lips were on his.
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