Storia facente parte del Leoverse.
Genere: Erotico, Introspettivo.
Pairing: Blaine/OMC.
Rating: NC-17.
AVVERTIMENTI: Slash, Lemon, AU, Underage.
- Blaine, a young wolf that only recently started on his path to become a packmaster, kills his own estranged brother, Cooper, and takes his wretched pack in his own hand. He never had an omega of his own, and the pack appears not to have one. That is, obviously, until Angela -- the pack's Lupa -- takes him to meet the pack's cubs. And there Blaine meets Adam for the first time -- and somehow ends up forcing puberty on him.
Note: Ciao! Sono una fic surreale che in realtà è (al solito) parte di un 'verse più ampio. In ogni caso racconto dei fatti che poi saranno ripresi marginalmente anche il quella storia, quando finalmente la Tab e la Liz la scriveranno, ma allora non saranno raccontati da questo punto di vista, che però, ammettiamolo, è il punto di vista migliore, perché tutti noi abbiamo bisogno di più omega che annegano nei propri stessi fluidi e si lasciano alle spalle la bava della lumaca quando camminano quando sono eccitati. E... insomma. *cough* Enjoy?
All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Original characters and plots are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.
(nature just commands, that’s all)

Adam still remembers his awakening very clearly. He never asked any other omega – for all he cares, they could all forget the whole thing three seconds after it’s over – but for him it’s like having those images carved into his brain, together with the feelings that went with them.

He remembers every detail of that day. The day Blaine first arrived at the camp. He remembers feeling his smell approaching through the woods, even before actually seeing him appear, seemingly out of nowhere. It was a hot, dry day, and smells traveled fast. Holed up in the broken trailer together with all the other cubs, he could smell the flowers on the trees growing alongside the river, thirty minutes away from the camp. He could smell the wet grass and the dry one, he could tell one from the other and he could understand where they were with extreme precision. He could smell the wild rabbits, hiding away into empty trunks in the deep of the woods. And he could almost taste the sweetness of the honey from the wild bees on his own tongue.

And then there was Blaine’s smell. A strong, wild, masculine smell coming from far away, approaching quickly. It was something raw, something rough and something new. It smelled of rebel youth and stubbornness, it smelled of blood and power, it smelled of strength. If Cooper’s orders for the cubs hadn’t been that they were never to leave the broken trailer without a supervisor and his permission, he’d have sneaked out and he’d have run towards it, following the trace of that smell, just to see what went with it.

When Blaine had arrived, Adam was waiting for him. He had felt his smell get closer and closer by the minute, and at some point it was just there, so close and strong Adam could smell nothing else. The other cubs had seemed pretty scared by it, they all went to curl up in a corner of the trailer and they held each other, trembling a little, big eyes fixed on the door.

Adam didn’t feel scared. Not at all. He had stood up from the seat he had been sitting on for the last few hours and he had walked to the door, but the moment he had touched the handle to open it he had felt his mother’s smell approach, and he had backed off.

Angela had appeared on the doorframe but a few seconds after that. Her eyes were worried and serious, and her lips were pursed in a nervous pout, her heart was beating faster than Adam had ever heard before.

“You stay in here,” she had said to them all, “Don’t come out unless I come calling for you.”

“Why?” Adam had said, taking a step towards her and trying to take a peek behind her shoulders, “What’s happening?”

“Nothing,” she had answered, putting both her hands on his shoulders and gently, but firmly, pushing him back, “Don’t worry. Do I have to lock you in? Is that gonna be necessary?”

Adam had looked back to all the other cubs, still shaking in fear, clearly sensing some sort of danger, coming from that smell, that new presence, that he didn’t share. He would have learned only later, that their fear was the perfectly reasonable and justified fear cubs of the former packmaster always have when a new one comes in. The fear of getting killed to free the mothers of the burden of their presence. To make them instantly available for mating again.

Adam couldn’t feel that. Not that he wasn’t at risk of getting killed too, but the curiosity, that weird connection he felt, drawing him to this man he didn’t even know the face of yet, was so strong it made fear seem like an overlookable detail. He didn’t know why, yet, but that much was already clear.

He had had no idea what was happening outside the trailer. He had listened to the adults argue and speak loud, then he had heard Cooper growl and then the unfamiliar but unmistakable noise of wolves fighting. Then it had been just silence for hours. He could feel the other wolves of the pack were scared, uncertain, somehow confused, worried for their future both on the short and long run. It had been instantly obvious the new wolf had won, that he had either killed or chased Cooper away during the fight and that the pack was now his own, but what would he make of it, that nobody knew. Maybe he’d have killed all the elders and the cubs to keep only the strongest adult wolves, maybe he’d have killed everybody except the cubs, to raise them himself and make them his army, or maybe he’d have killed everybody except the elders, to keep experienced but substantially harmless wolves by his side as he started to form his own pack with wolves of his own choosing.

The other cubs had spent those long, still hours crying silently, shaking in fear. They hadn’t dared speaking a word, and Adam had been the only one brave enough to wait for whatever was going to happen sitting by the door. It wasn’t really bravery, nor even curiosity, at that point, but an overwhelming, straight out impossibility to move away. Not with that smell so close, not knowing the man that carried it was right there, that he owned them all now – that he owned him, and that soon he’d finally get to meet him.

He had only backed off when he had felt his mother approach once again. He had moved a few steps away, climbing on one of the broken seats and crouching down there, ready for everything – ready for nothing.

Angela had walked in, introducing them to a young man. He was pretty tall, he had long, curly black hair and dark brown eyes that shined with a golden light every now and then. He had broad, strong shoulders, and his muscled arms, coming out of his sleeveless, ruined t-shirt, were covered in still lightly bleeding scratches. He had some on his face, too, one under his right eye, the other cutting his lips in half.

The moment he had seen him, Adam had felt something tremble so violently inside of him he had had to cling to the back of the seat not to falter and fall. He had not only been overwhelmed by a physical sensation, a deep, unnamed urgency to run towards him and touch him, but he had heard something too, some sort of strong, ancient inner voice that hadn’t seemed his own at all, something that had sounded like the howl of all the ancient wolves, compelling him to move.

He had stood up the moment Angela had started talking. “These are the cubs,” she had said, “They aren’t Cooper’s children. He was unable to get any female pregnant. They’re from a previous packmaster. They’re about to reach adulthood, and they’re…” she had stopped talking the moment she had understood the new packmaster wasn’t even listening to her anymore. He had stopped a few steps from the door, and his eyes, after lazily skipping through the other cubs, had stopped on Adam, and hadn’t moved away ever since.

Adam had clutched his fists down his sides, waiting for him to move. Angela had smelled the air and had frowned, worried, but she had said nothing.

“Him,” the packmaster had said, nodding towards Adam, “What’s his name?”

“This is Adam,” Angela had said, looking at him too and exhaling a deep sigh as she watched him jump on his feet as if called for a long awaited war, “My son.”

Under Cooper’s reign, Angela had spent much of Adam’s childhood telling him affectionately to grow up strong, and grow up soon, for he would have surely become an alpha wolf, and she had always hoped he’d be the one who’d have had courage and skills enough to challenge Cooper and defeat him. She had always wanted her son to be packmaster, not out of hunger for power – she was the lupa of this pack, she couldn’t aspire to be in any higher position, as a female –, but because she knew, she just knew Adam would have been perfect for the role. He was fearless, righteous, he had a clear mind and a clear vision and never hesitated speaking out about it.

He’d have been perfect and she had had such high hopes for him, but now that she was seeing him in front of a true adult packmaster she instantly knew that could have never been, and would have never been. She could smell her son’s excitement from where she stood. And that was a call there was no escaping from.

“Adam…” the man had said. He had let the name slide on his tongue and slip through his lips, savoring it as if it had a taste. It probably had it, for him. Adam was feeling something very similar to that, after all. Air had a taste for him, now. Had a smell. The new packmaster’s smell. His taste, that Adam could only imagine, but that he felt on his tongue already. “I’m Blaine,” the man had said, “Your new packmaster.”

Adam had swallowed hard. “Nice to meet you,” he had said. He had tilted his head, showing his neck in a sign of submission. The gesture, together with the smell of his arousal, had made Blaine clutch his fists down his sides in a nervous movement.

“Everybody out,” he had said, swallowing.

For a moment, Angela had looked like she wanted to stay and try and talk the new packmaster out of it. He’s still too young, she would have said, He just hit puberty. But what would have that meant? Her son was shivering, standing still in front of Blaine, desperate to give in. The air was heavy with his desire. Everything smelled of it. He wanted to be taken. He wanted to be taken that very moment, he needed it. That was nature. Angela knew there was nothing she could possibly do to change that, and so she had just moved aside.

“Come on, guys, out. Everybody,” she had simply said, leading the other confused, upset cubs out of the trailer. She had made sure to close the door behind herself as she walked away.

Once left alone with him, Blaine had walked quickly towards him, stopping just a few inches away from his body. He had inhaled his scent deeply and had looked at him as if he had never seen such a creature, as if he had had no idea what to do with him. “What are you…?” he had asked, bending over him to press his nose against his neck, rubbing it up and down the curve of his throat.

“What…?” Adam had asked back, trying to keep his eyes open, trying to keep himself focused, and miserably failing at it.

“You…” Blaine had said, lifting a hand to grab at Adam’s hair, pulling a little, “You don’t smell right.”

Entranced by his smell, by the strength of his fingers, by the sound of his voice, Adam had gotten closer, pressing his nose against Blaine’s exposed skin too. “Neither do you,” he had said, honestly. There was something different in Blaine’s smell. Adam had smelled different packmasters, before. He had smelled his father, and he had smelled Cooper. Nothing in their smell had ever felt so threatening and yet so enticing as that something in Blaine’s smell did. That wasn’t the right smell for a packmaster. It was the right smell for a lover.

Blaine had growled to the sound of his voice, a deep, throaty sound Adam had felt vibrating all over his skin. He had stuck out his tongue and he had licked up Adam’s neck shamelessly, with his mouth wide open, tasting him. “You taste too young,” he had said, pensively.

Adam had moaned, clinging to Blaine’s half torn apart shirt with both his hands. “Too young for what?” he had asked confusedly, “I’m fifteen.”

“Yeah,” Blaine had answered, “Exactly.”

Adam had said nothing in response to that. He had kept staring at him, not knowing what to do with his own body, feeling it revolt under his own skin. Every single inch of his body was itching, every single inch screamed to be touched. He wanted Blaine’s hands on him, he wanted to feel his tongue lick him in places he had never wanted anybody else to lick. He wanted to be kissed and held, and he wanted to be fucked. Hard. As hard as he possibly could.

They had stood still for a few seconds, Adam just pressing his body against Blaine’s, Blaine keeping Adam as close as being two different people let him. Then Blaine had moved. He had shoved his hand down the back of Adam’s pants, taking advantage of how loose and big they were. Those clothes didn’t fit him. No clothes ever fit them. They had never been able to afford new clothes of the right size, they lived on stolen goods and handovers. And Adam was so young. So young and small and so skinny Blaine’s hand had found very easily to just move past the waistband of his jeans, reaching his opening.

It had found it to be so wet his fingers had produced the most obscene sound by just rubbing it lightly.

“What…” Adam had whined desperately, clinging to him as his back arched with the shiver of pleasure that Blaine’s fingers’ touch had given him , “What is this? Why is it happening?”

Before even answering the question, Blaine had let his own middle finger slide up inside Adam’s wet opening. It had went in so easily they both had barely felt it. But the idea, even without it being associated with any particularly overwhelming physical sensation, had sent them both over the edge. The simple fact that Blaine’s finger could have disappeared into Adam’s body so easily, as if they had been born just for this, was almost too much to stand without instantly wanting to give in to it. “You’re an omega,” Blaine had finally answered, letting out a deeper growl as he curled his finger inside Adam’s body, “You don’t smell ready, but you are.” He had opened his eyes and moved back a few inches, only to look at Adam right in his eyes. He hadn’t spoken for just a few seconds, and then he had said it. “I’m gonna fuck you, now.”

An order. A threat. An open war. A revolution.

The words had exploded into Adam’s head, making him blind and deaf, able to react only to the feelings that were coming directly from the things Blaine was doing to his body.

“Yes!” he had said. The yell had slipped out of his mouth without him being able to even try and control it. He had been so embarrassed by that squealing sound that he had wanted to cover his mouth with both his hands, but he had found himself not minding about it at all when he had understood he couldn’t. His body had stubbornly decided not to answer any command that wasn’t directly related to Blaine, and so the moment he had tried to lift his hands to cover himself he had just ended up leaning in, searching for Blaine’s lips to start lapping at them, both in sign of submission and in a silent, desperate request to be kissed.

Blaine had stuck his tongue out, licking at Adam’s. The moment they had touched, a violent shock of pleasure had overwhelmed them both, and Blaine had let out a deep, loud moan, just a second before throwing himself at Adam, kissing him hard, noises of every kind escaping their wet lips as they opened and closed them.

Adam had backed off, overwhelmed by the feeling and by Blaine’s strength, and he had soon found himself laid down against the broken seats in the back of the trailer. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to do such a thing, but none of them had cared much, at the time. He had just responded to Blaine’s kiss hungrily, vaguely aware of the mess he had made of himself. He had kept wanting to lick and kiss him at the same time, he had kept wanting to do everything he could possibly imagine to do to him, all at the same time, and that desperate need, impossible to satisfy, had quickly made him restless and whiny. Everything was Blaine, and that everything wasn’t enough, not just yet.

Blaine knew that, and soon enough he had pulled away, parting from Adam’s body to strip himself off his clothes. His torn t-shirt and pants had ended up in a shapeless little mount at their feet, and when Adam had seen him standing naked in front of him he had had to muster all his strength not to crawl on his knees to get his mouth on him. Uncertain on what to do, Adam had stood there on the broken seats, motionless, shaking uncontrollably as wetness started to make him feel uncomfortable.

Blaine had bent over him, kissing him hungrily and then whispering on his lips. “Turn around, now,” he had said, and Adam had followed the order dutifully, scrambling confusedly and slipping a couple times on the ruined leather lining the seats, on which he had kneeled, pushing is ass out in a clear invite, his fingers diving nervously into the stuffed seatback.

Blaine had growled, clashing against him. His teeth had instantly found their way around Adam’s neck, and he had bitten down at his nape hard, while at the same time he kept holding the kid’s hips between his hands, not wasting time at all before thrusting quickly inside him, opening him up altogether with one deep thrust.

The pain had been intense, but Adam had not cared for it at all. He was getting exactly what he wanted, and the pain was part of it. Feeling him so clearly, feeling the outline of his cock so precisely as it made room for itself inside his body, came with that kind of pain. It was the right kind of pain, a pain Adam wanted to feel. He had growled in pleasure and relief, letting out frustration as Blaine’s teeth dove into his neck just as violently and deeply as his cock was doing inside his body.

He remembers so well the feelings washing over his body as Blaine thrust inside him, that day. He remembers feeling owned and needed, he remembers the wetness and the pain, he remembers the smell of blood and how good Blaine’s tongue felt as it licked it off the small wounds his teeth had opened on his nape.

That first time had been about more than just sex. It had been about finding purpose, finding a place, somebody he belonged to. Blaine had been that something, that somebody. He had awakened him.

Adam can’t forget that. Maybe other omegas do. They just forget and move on. Packmasters change, after all. Wolves are mortal, wolves can be beaten and killed. Just like his father’s been killed by Cooper, and Cooper’s been killed by Blaine, Adam’s pretty sure that somehow, someday, Blaine’s gonna be killed by somebody else striving for his throne. He’s not sure he wants to be there when it happens, but it’s possible, it’s probable it will happen. But he wouldn’t be able to move on past Blaine, he wouldn’t be able to get on with his life after him, that much he’s sure about. Even not counting all the things Blaine has done for him beside being his alpha, even wanting to ignore that he defied pack rules to make him his Hand despite a centuries-old tradition imposing no omega could ever be chosen to cover such role, even for just that late afternoon in that trailer Adam could never move on and forget.

That’s why Adam has spent all his life, since Blaine imposed maturity on him, to try and prevent to even ever have to prepare for the idea. As Hand of the Packmaster he keeps the pack in line, he keeps everything in order and tries to tone down Blaine’s natural push towards everything that’s outside the tradition and the rules to make sure he’ll never fall.

Which is why, when Blaine comes to him and simply announces he found himself a Lupa – and that Lupa is, in fact, a fifteen years old boy that’s not even half a wolf – he loses his shit. This time, he thinks, Blaine went too far. This will be his undoing, he’s sure of it.

And as much as he’s sure of it, he’s also sure that, if Blaine has to fall, then he will fall by his side. And despite disagreeing with him – and pretty much hating the kid, too – he decides to stand by him.
back to poly

Vuoi commentare? »

^bold text^bold text
_italic text_italic text
%struck text%struck text

Nota: Devi visualizzare l'anteprima del tuo commento prima di poterlo inviare. Note: You have to preview your comment (Anteprima) before sending it (Invia).