Duck Lake Been to hell and back, I can show you vouchers

The magnetic attraction he feels toward Midar strikes him again in full force as their eyes meet, and he can't help but wonder what such a creature would see in himself. The other wolf is classically handsome, clearly more than capable — and really, who doesn't like a bad boy? He's certain the man could do better than this; a tiny broken thing who can't quite remember how he's gotten this way.
You just don't know me well enough yet, He says, grinning slightly. He shivers a little as Midar kisses his jaw. But I wouldn't describe you as strange, either — well, it wouldn't be my first choice, anyway. He can't help teasing a little — it makes a good distraction from the nagging heat slowly creeping over him.

He pulled back again to study the other man's face. I plan to fix that, and no amount of putting yourself down will change my mind, he replied. The words were fervent and stern, not meant to scold but to convince. When he wanted something, he rarely yielded to any kind of deterrent, something Alarian would certainly learn if he allowed the beast to be a more permanent fixture in his life. When the other man spoke again, amusement softened the expression in Midar's eyes once more. No? he asked, raising an eyebrow. Perhaps something more ominous? He was teasing mostly, but he honestly wouldn't be surprised if it were the truth.

The sternness in the other's tone sends a flush through him, heat intensifying over his skin. He doesn't understand what could be so intriguing about him — the scars, maybe? That doesn't seem a good enough reason for this, though. He could contemplate it all day, but Midar's voice breaks him from his thoughts and he can't help but laugh softly at the words. Ominous works great, actually, He tells him, trying to contain his own amusement. And super hot — can't forget that. Well, he can't, anyway.

Hmm, hot and ominous, Midar responded, the hint of a smile on his lips--an expression not often seen on the beast's face. He didn't usually get paid compliments either, well outside of appreciation for a job well done, but he liked hearing it from Alarian. That sounds like a dangerous combination, he added teasingly, running his nose along the line of the other man's jaw. He paused to look up and added, You're hot as well. It wasn't the word he would have used initially, but it was surprisingly fitting. Midar ran an appreciative gaze down the length of his body before lifting it back to meet Alarian's, completely unashamed at his open admiration of his new companion. And since they were on the topic of looks, he thought it an apt time to ask him the question he had been holding back. He studied the other man's face for a moment before finally asking, How did you get your scars? He was curious to know what had left him with the permanent marks. He wondered if he even remembered or if, like Midar and his mark, they were permanent reminders of what he couldn't remember.

His heart skips a beat as he registers Midar's faint smile, and he flushes further at the man's words. I eat danger for breakfast, He jokes, trying to sound casual despite the conflicting emotions rising within him. It's hard to keep his composure when Midar calls him hot, though — and damn near impossible when he sees that look. He shivers fiercely this time, apprehension and desire warring for dominance as they had the first time they'd met.
The question is a welcome distraction. I — He breaks off abruptly, frowning. I don't know, he'd almost said, but he remembers something now — I think that... someone tried to kill me? But I can't — ow! Sharp pain lances through his skull, cutting him off, and he buries his head between his forelegs. His head throbs fiercely, and as he rubs one paw over the area he feels the ridged scar tissue under his pad; an old head wound, not quite visible under his fur but there nonetheless. Suddenly he wonders how many times this has happened to him.

Well, that should make things easier, he replied mischievously. He liked the way Alarian shivered under his gaze; it made him want to take him again right there. Seeing him be so responsive was incredibly addictive. It was a little unsettling exactly how much the beast enjoyed it. A voice in the back of his head screamed something about vulnerability, but once again, he was entirely too captured by the scarred male to listen. 

The other man began to answer his question, informing him that he thought someone had tried to kill him. The thought caused hot anger to blaze through his chest, but he had little time to examine such a strong emotion before he heard Alarian cry out in pain. He watched as the other man placed his head between his front legs and began pawing at an area on his skull. At first, Midar was frozen, confused about what was happening and unsure what to do about it. He recognized the signs of pain, and finally decided to do the only thing he could think to do--try and comfort. He wasn't the best at things like this, but finally, instinct guided him; he lowered his head and offered a few tentative licks to the side of Alarian's face. He then rested his head on the other's front leg so that their faces touched and worriedly asked, Alarian, what's wrong? His heart began to race as he waited for the other man to be able say something again.

If he had any way to know what occupies Midar's thoughts, Alarian would already be volunteering himself for round two, head pain be damned. Even as the ache becomes overwhelming, the man's touch sends electricity sparking across his skin. He sucks in a breath, trembling. At the sound of the other's voice, he lifts his head just slightly, forelegs shifting so he can see him. The ache in his head starts to fade slowly, and he takes in another breath, slightly ragged this time. Just my head, He mumbles, shifting to lean into the touch further. I'm fine.

He felt Alarian tremble next to him, and his worry grew. Finally, the other man lifted his head a little, and Midar met his gaze with confusion in his own. Confusion mixed with worry when he explained that it was his head. He assured Midar that he would be fine, but the beast was reluctant to believe him. Does that happen often? he asked. He knew next to nothing about healing, but that didn't seem okay to him. Does your pack have a healer? he asked next, his concern leaking into his voice. He wanted to ask more questions, but he didn't want to throw too much at him at once, especially if his head was still hurting, so he held them for now to give the other man time to recover and answer what he had already asked.

The pain is slow to subside, but he tries his best to ignore it, shrugging in response to the first question. Hell if I know, he wants to say, but before he can say anything he registers the second question and he can't help but snort softly. I'm the pack's healer, He says, unable to help the grin tugging at his features despite the lingering ache in his skull. He moves to press his nose gently to Midar's cheek, grateful for his concern. Don't worry. He murmurs — and he really hopes he doesn't, because he's not very worried about it himself. He can't say for sure, but he thinks he's been through worse.

His concerns were calmed some when Alarian informed him that he was a healer. Midar figured that meant when he said he was fine, then he probably actually was. He hoped so anyway. The beast closed his eyes at the touch, nodding once in response, although he probably still would. He never had headaches like that, but he supposed that didn't necessarily mean anything; just because they had both lost their memories, didn't mean their wounds were the same or had caused the same kind of damage. Does that happen when you try to remember things? he asked after a moment. He'd especially like to know that so maybe he could avoid asking those kinds of questions in the future. It seemed the other man was quickly becoming one of the few wolves that Midar actually didn't want to hurt.

He shrugs again, distracted this time by Midar's scent and the warmth of where they're touching; as the pain fades, he's finding himself more concerned with their proximity than anything. I don't remember, He murmurs teasingly, tracing a path from his lover's cheek to the soft fur behind his ear. It's a different feeling now, being close to him — as electrifying as before, no doubt, but now there's a strange soft warmth spreading through his chest. He combs his teeth gently through the other's midnight fur, preening down the side of his neck slowly and wondering how Midar has gotten him to lower his guard so quickly. Maybe it doesn't matter — it's already happened, and he's not sure he'd want to stop it anyway.

He was honestly a little irritated by Alarian's nonchalance regarding the whole thing, but found himself incredibly distracted by the feeling of his touch along his cheek and behind his ear. He wanted to ask more questions--ask if he was at all worried about it, but then Alarian began moving his teeth through the beast's fur, and he released a harsh breath through his nose. He remained perfectly still as the other man continued down his neck, closing his eyes at the intensity of the feeling. His last ounce of control fell away then as he internally assured himself that if his companion wasn't worried about the head pain, then it was probably nothing. He pulled back only enough to meet the other man's gaze, his own eyes lust-filled. The beast wanted to touch now so he could watch Alarian's responses; it was easily becoming one of his favorite things about the scarred male. Midar pushed his muzzle into the fur on the other man's throat, nuzzling it softly before delivering a soft nip. He repeated the pattern up his neck and stopped at his jaw, his worries completely forgotten as he explored.

He's pleased when Midar drops the subject, and the lust in his gaze tells him that he's not the only one with his mind elsewhere. A shiver races down his spine, and he gasps softly at the touch to his neck, a little surprised by the suddenness. The gasp ends in a faint whine as Midar nips him. His ears flush with heat and he swallows, stifling the sound and trying to keep his breathing even as his companion continues. Midar, It slips from him quietly, breathless and a little embarrassed. If it wasn't still too early and this whole thing wasn't very assuredly gay, he'd wonder if one of them was in heat or something — but no; it's very, very gay, which means they're both just really, really horny. Not that he's complaining.

His first touch was met with a gasp and a whine much to Midar's pleasure, increasing his heart rate, and causing a slow burn in his stomach. When he reached Alarian's jaw, the soft murmur of his name made him pause briefly as a soft chuckle rolled from his chest; he certainly did not disappoint. He slowly and a bit more gently moved along his companion's jaw and to the back of his neck, stopping to deal a bite there--asking for permission again. He supposed at this point he probably didn't have to since it was pretty clear what they both wanted right now. He kind of liked hearing it, though, and most of all, he wanted to make sure he felt okay enough after his episode to continue where this was headed.

The chuckle sends another flush through him, this time riding on a wave of indignance, but he's not bothered enough to interrupt their activities. He wastes no time in giving his consent when Midar prompts him — and this time, there is no fear looming over the encounter.

By the time they separate, Alarian is very content — and admittedly fairly sleepy. He moves to Midar's side, nudging him before he settles on the ground in hopes that his lover will lie with him for awhile. Or, in other words, make himself useful by being a pillow now.

When they were done, Alarian moved to his side, nudging him before lying down. What he wanted was clear, and Midar was happy to oblige. He lied down behind the other man, encircling him protectively. Yawning, he placed his head on his paws, allowing for his companion to lie on him if he chose to and content to stay like that for a while. He was too satisfied and comfortable to even remember to be wary of whatever was forming between them, and he had the feeling he wouldn't even really question it later when they were apart on separate sides of the mountains.

His own doubts still lurk in the background, sleeping for now — and he realizes he will be soon, too. He shifts to lean against Midar, grateful for the proximity, and quickly gets comfortable. It's been awhile since he's had the luxury of a shared nap; the cold hinders his sleep terribly, so he's eager for any opportunity to catch up on that missed rest. Within a few minutes he's snoring softly, completely forgetting that it's winter. In his mind it's warm, bright summer.