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Any and all comments are welcome!", "writing": "Brawn felt Tiran take his hand in a grip that clearly identified his feelings as constricting fear. His mate was shaking and standing a half step behind Brawn while they both stood on the sidewalk looking up at a building elegantly decorated with tall white columns and dark brick. \n\n“I’m right here, baby,” Brawn turned and cupped his hand against Tiran’s jaw, tilting it so that their eyes met and the child-like fear he saw in Tiran’s eyes broke his heart. “We’ll go in together and I swear, as long as you need me to come with you, I will.”\n\nTiran met his gaze and nodded, taking in a deep breath, not sure what to expect or what to think of what he was about to do. He followed behind Brawn trying to calm the hard thrash of his heart inside his chest. His flight instincts were on high alert. He knew he was sweating under his fur, shaking slightly, feeling more like a kit that a grown cougar. \n\nIt had been so many years, so many nightmares and daydreams ago, coming to a head now, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. The fear of rejection was palpable, seething below the surface as he took each step, his throat constricting as emotions tried to overwhelm him. \n\nThe interior of the small restaurant was a lot less formal than the outside of the building would portray. Big booths lined the walls and small, intimate tables were scattered around the middle of the room. Comfortable chairs were at the sides of the tables, brown leather covering each of the plump cushions.\n\nThe lighting hung high overhead in the lofted ceilings, casting down soft glowing illumination all around the room. His eyes darted from booth to booth, table to table, searching for-\n\nHer hair was longer. It swayed down past her shoulder blades as she rocked in the chair, obviously holding a delicate bundle in her arms. Clese. It must be his newphew, Clese. Her formerly overly thin frame was filled out with motherhood, her face softer than the hard lines of her youth. Motherhood suited her, he decided and all of a sudden his nerves were gone. His body relaxed, his soul settled. \n\nWhen she looked up and smiled at him, tears building instantly in her eyes, his own started to well up. She stood from the table at the same time a tall tiger stood from the chair next to her. His face was gentle as he touched a hand to her shoulder, gesturing for her to pass the infant to him. He knew that must be her husband. The way he met her eyes, nodded, a small smile gracing his lips settled his soul even more. He could tell that he loved her, and that he loved their child by the way he cuddled the small bundle close.\n\nShe fully faced him, stepping gently from around the chair legs and simply waited, giving him the time and space to come to her if he was ready. Tiran felt Brawn squeeze his hand and let go before whispering, “Looks like she’s only happy to see you, Tiran. I think she is scared that you’ll walk away, just as much as you are scared that she will walk away, too.” \n\nHe let his mate go, and stepped back, watching Tiran take a tentative step forward, a breath catching in his throat as his feet picked up speed, rushed forward and he scooped her up into his arms. Brawn’s throat clenched and he met Tiran’s sister’s husband’s eyes and nodded a greeting, moving toward the table, waiting for the siblings to release one another. \n\n“I’m so sorry, my brother.” She sobbed into his shoulder, holding him close. \n\n“No, no, my dear Cloe. It wasn’t your fault.” He pulled back and met her eyes, the same gold color as his own. Unlike Tiran, whose fur was a solid silver, hers was a mixture of the traditional cougar gold and their mother’s silver. “Just as beautiful as always, sis,” his smile for her had one blooming on her lips and they hugged close, just holding on for a while. \n\nWhen they finally let one another go, he dabbed his fingers at the corners of her eyes, “No more crying, sis.” She turned and reached a hand out to her husband and the tiger walked closer. \n\n“Tir, this is my husband, Van. Van, my brother Tiran.” They shook hands, and she took her son back into her arms. “And this perfect little man is your nephew, Clese.”\n\nShe gently handed him over, and Tiran was terrified of hurting him, holding the young male as gently as he could, cupping the back of the infant’s head, looking down into the perfect little face. The boy’s eyes were green like his father’s. He had Cloe’s coloring, his father’s cheekbones, the shape of Cloe’s eyes, the shape of her ears. He was a beautiful combination of the two loving parents. “He’s beautiful, Cloe.” His voice broke again and she poked him in the ribs. “No crying anymore, remember?” They shared smiles and he turned to Brawn who stood close by, hands tucked into his pockets. \n\n“Look at him, Brawn,” Tiran whispered. “He is so perfect.” Brawn smiled and came up next to Tiran, slipping an arm around his mate’s waist. “Yes, baby, he is perfect.” He looked up and met Cloe’s eyes. “You done good, Cloe!” She swatted at Brawn’s arm, laughing. \n\nThe ice was broken, the tension gone, and they all sat down to lunch together. Cloe handed Tiran a bottle of breastmilk and let him feed his nephew, watching as he smiled down at the infant, infatuated. She couldn’t blame him. She’d been just as taken with her little man the second the midwife had laid him in her arms, just seconds after he had been born. He’d been screaming at the top of his little lungs, arms and legs flailing about. The second he was given to her and she held him close he calmed down, settling into her arms and just stared at her. It made part of her broken heart whole again, seeing her brother holding her child, smiling and happy. \n\nBrawn had called her a couple of days after Tiran’s withdrawal had ended, telling her everything. He apologized that he hadn’t figured it out sooner, that they hadn’t been at the funeral. She’d just told him that everything was okay, that she was glad he called and told her what had happened. They had talked for about an hour while Tiran had slept and he’d set up this meeting, so that they could see where everything truly lied. From all appearance, everything was perfect between the two siblings, and their world was making itself right again.\n\nThey spoke of everything under the sun. She loved to hear of what he’d become, what he did for a living. His stories of how they had built their lives together made her feel better about not being there for him like she wished she could have. \n\nThree hours passed before they realized it and Clese was getting restless. She took her brother’s hand across the table cloth, “I’m so glad you came, Tir. I missed you so much.”\n\nHe gripped her small hand in his, squeezing lightly. “I missed you, too.” He looked down, unsure of how to say what he wanted to next. “I know that Brawn called you about…” He swallowed hard and moistened his lips with his tongue. “I’m having to face this on a day to day basis.” He met Brawn’s eyes and his mate nodded, “I still have times when I want to do more. Find more. It’s hard to resist those moments, and I’m having to realize that I will always be a drug user. I will, eventually, be a drug user who doesn’t use drugs anymore. I’ve only been clean for a week, sis.” He met her eyes and what he saw there was understanding and love, no hate, no pity, no anger. “Next week I’ll start seeing a counselor. Brawn is going to go with me for most of the sessions, but I’d like to have you with me for a few of them… If you don’t mind?”\n\nShe stood up so abruptly that he was momentarily scared that he had made her angry at him. When she simply came around the table, pulled him to her, and hugged him to her stomach, her arms wrapped around his head, holding him close, his body relaxed. “Of course, I’ll be there. Anytime you want me there, I’ll be there.”\n\nWhen they all parted ways and each went home, Tiran knew a piece of his soul had been put back into place. \n\n~~~\n\nThe water slid over his body like his lover’s hands when they made love. The gently sloshing over his fur lulled his aching muslces and tired mind. Sometimes it felt like there were two people fighting for space in his body. One who wanted peace and craved balance, and the other that needed disfunction and craved to unleash the feral animal inside his skin.\n\nThe pain shot through his body, spasms of uncontrollable need that called for him to do the unthinkable… again. He forced his body to the edge of the pool, the cold water now barely aiding his body to cool down for it was so overly heated. \n\nHis fingers gripped the brick edge of the pool, his head dipped low so that it lapped at his forehead. His chest arched backwards as air plunged into and out of his lungs, painfully penetrating his body. Needles ripped up his bloodstream, arcing from his core through every inch of his skin, muscle, bone, heart and brain. \n\nHe hissed out the pain, sweat slicking his skin even as the water that surrounded him cooled his whole body down, taking the shakes from the need for the drugs to the shaking of a drained body in need of heat.\n\nHe jerked in fear when strong arms wrapped him up from behind, pulling him up against a hard chest, chiseled with long hours in the gym. Those arms banded around him in a manner that should have terrified most, but only gave reassurance and needed support to Tiran. He leaned his head back onto Brawn’s shoulder, taking the support he offered.\n\n“How bad, Tiran?” Brawn asked.\n\n“Scale of 1-10?” He paused, thinking, “between a 6 and 7.”\n\nBrawn cursed. They were getting worse. Slowly but surely the pain was getting more and more intense with each post withdrawal episode. “We need to get you into that counselor, and a doctor, Tiran.”\n\nHis mate shook his head vehemently. “No, no doctor. I agreed to the counselor, but I can’t handle doctors yet.” Brawn knew the doctor would mean needles for tests and also knew that Tiran hadn’t just snorted drugs, he’d also injected them. He’d found injection sites all over his inner arms and legs. \n\n“Okay,” he murmured, “No doctor.. yet. You’ll need to see one eventually.”\n\n“I know, Brawn, I know,” the pain in Tiran’s voice broke Brawn inside. \n\nHe turned his man in his arms, pulling Tiran’s legs to wrap around his waist, and carried him our of the pool to the gazebo where they had a huge bed. They loved to sleep outside a lot of times and they loved the feel of the breeze over them when they were in the gazebo, so they bought this huge California King mattress to go under it. \n\nHe laid his healing lover on the bed, seeing the uncertainty in Tiran’s eyes. He cupped his man’s face in a palm, pulling their lips together in an intimate dance of lips, tongue and teeth. The wind whipped around them, cooling skin that was heating quickly in passion. \n\n“Let me take care of you, Tiran. Let me take you away from here, from everything in the world, all the pain, all the struggle. Let me help you heal.” He felt his lover sigh and shudder acceptance and Brawn’s hands roamed. He loved to feel the soft fur of his mate’s body. So soft, so slick, and when wet, made his need the body it covered like he needed his next breath. \n\nHe slid his body down Tiran’s, until he caught a nipple between his lips, nicking one with a fang. Tiran loved the nip of pain during intercourse, and Brawn loved to give him what he needed. The taste of his man’s body, the feel of the taught nipple budding under his lips’ attention spurred him on. He felt his own arousal grow, his body jumping on the “Make Love To Tiran Until His Head Spins Like The Exorcist” bandwagon like he couldn’t live without facing the challenge. \n\nHe avoided touching Tiran’s arousal, knowing that the longer he didn’t touch him, the more aroused he would be and the longer he would be able to torture his man. His lips caressed the insides of his thighs, nuzzling into the meeting of thigh and groin, licking, nipping, breathing in the scent of his man. He forced Tiran’s legs open further, propped his mate’s heels against his shoulders, and hissed out a low breathe against his balls. \n\nHe laved both orbs with his tongue, grinning at the moans and hissing breaths that he heard coming from Tiran. Using his tongue, he pulled one orb between his lips, sucking on it, rolling it around his mouth, putting suction on the delicate part, putting pressure from his mouth around it to add just enough pressure to make Tiran grip the bedsheets and pant. He let the orb drop, and grabbed the other one between his lips, giving it the same treatement, loving the taste of his salty man, still slicked with pool water. \n\nBrawn gripped the globes of Tiran’s ass, digging in claws so that there was a pinch of pain. He drew each hiss and whimper into the night air, adding pleasure to pain. Still ignoring the bobbing erection, he pulled his lips away from the perfect balls that he loved to taste and propped his man higher, opened him, giving his lips acess to the most perfect pink pucker he had ever seen. \n\nWhen his tongue met that pucker, he hummed in absolute pleasure at the taste. His body came fully alive with need, having been in a partial hibernation while he’d been determined to give the utmost pleasure to his man. \n\nHe rimmed him, running his slick tongue around the edge of tight muscle, lapping, taking in the taste of his perfect man. He sealed his lips against the spot, stabbing his tongue into Tiran’s ass, taking him with his tongue. He loved to do this. Loved to feel Tiran this way. \n\nHe heard fabric tear and grinned like the panther he was, knowing Tiran had torn into the sheets… again… with his claws. \n\nPulling away suddenly, he let his mate’s ass slap into the bed and took his full length into his mouth, deep throating him until the long and thick erection was swallowed, massaged by Brawn’s tight throat. He hummed, using the vibrations to give more and more pleasure. His fangs lightly nicked the length, his tongue swathed it, curled around each inch, flicking and teasing. \n\nTiran panted, begged, ripped the sheets up, pulled at Brawn’s fur, frantic for release, but he knew that Brawn wouldn’t let it happen, and he felt his mate’s hand gripped around the very base of his cock, keeping the orgasm from being able to happen. \n\nHe released the length from between his lips, a little ‘pop’ heard as it slipped from between his lips. He looked up and gave a feral grin at the shocked look on his lover’s face. His body slid back up Tiran’s, putting them lips to lips, chest to chest, and groin to groin, their erections rubbing together. \n\n“You. Are. Mine.” He growled to Tiran, locking their lips together, fangs clicking, tongues battling for position. \n\nThe panted “yes” turned to a whimpered moan when Brawn rubbed their erections together, hard. Brawn leaned back, sitting back on his heels. “Pull your legs up, baby. Show me that pucker again.” \n\nTiran followed instructions perfectly, linking his arms at the bend of his knees. “So fucking sexy,” Brawn murmured, eyes locked on the picture his mate made spread for him. He licked his lips, meeting Tiran’s eyes, seeing the need and the desperation there. \n\n“I won’t be easy tonight, Tiran. I don’t think you want me to be gentle, do you?”\n\nThe man furiously shook his head back and forth, his bottom lip gripped in bleeding tightness between his fangs. Brawn lined up his body, met his man’s eyes, and slammed home. Tiran screamed in a mixture of pleasure and pain, head thrown back against the pillows. \n\nBrawn had to pause, the tightness of Tiran’s body gripping his cock so tightly he’d swear his ass was going to break his cock off at the base. “Fuck, baby. You are so perfectly tight!” He used his arms to pull Tiran closer, and started to move.\n\nHe pumped in and out of Tiran’s tight hole, gritting his teeth together at the heat and pressure that gripped at his cock. His arms screamed with the strength it took to keep up the pace, muscles straining and rippling under his fur. \n\nBrawn pulled Tiran up and switched their positions, letting his man ride him, watching as Tiran used his legs to spear Brawn’s cock into and out of his own ass, over and over. When he began to ride Brawn’s cock like a cowboy riding a bull, Brawn hissed out breath after breath. \n\nWithout warning, Tiran’s body came, rippling around Brawn’s cock like a vise. He needed no other invitation, coming into his man’s body, loving the feel of the ropes of cum slapping against his chest, throat, and chin as Tiran came for a long two moments. \n\nThey collapsed together across the bed just as the moon peeked out around the clouds in the sky. On their sides, they stared at one another, their eyes glazed with monumental orgasms. Their hands were still moving, caressing, touching, needing the closeness. Murmured words were exchanged, words of love, apologies that were brushed away, kissed away. \n\nWhen they separated, Brawn pulled his mate close, and they slept, face to face in each other’s arms. \n\n~~\n\nTiran’s palms sweated, and he felt itchy. Little spasms of pain lanced through his body and he hid them, plastering a fake smile on his lips as he waved and watched Brawn pull out of the driveway the next morning. They had shared a deep level of intimacy the night before, at a level that they had yet to reach before. \n\nWhen he saw the sedan turn the corner he slouched and shut the front door, walked into their bedroom and sat heavily on the bed, body shaking and heart racing. From the underside of the nightstand drawer he pulled a manila envelope and poured the contents onto the bed. \n\nHe sat, staring at those contents, fighting with himself and what he wanted, what his body craved. His mind just kept racing as he stared, shaking with need of a different kind than he had felt the night before. \n\nHe remembered the words he had spoken to his sister: [i]It’s hard to resist those moments, and I’m having to realize that I will always be a drug user. I will, eventually, be a drug user who doesn’t use drugs anymore.[/i]\n\nThe words rang over and over again, one main word smashing into his resolve like a hammer into delicate glass: [i]eventually[/i].\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Brawn felt Tiran take his hand in a grip that clearly identified his feelings as constricting fear. His mate was shaking and standing a half step behind Brawn while they both stood on the sidewalk looking up at a building elegantly decorated with tall white columns and dark brick.

“I’m right here, baby,” Brawn turned and cupped his hand against Tiran’s jaw, tilting it so that their eyes met and the child-like fear he saw in Tiran’s eyes broke his heart. “We’ll go in together and I swear, as long as you need me to come with you, I will.”

Tiran met his gaze and nodded, taking in a deep breath, not sure what to expect or what to think of what he was about to do. He followed behind Brawn trying to calm the hard thrash of his heart inside his chest. His flight instincts were on high alert. He knew he was sweating under his fur, shaking slightly, feeling more like a kit that a grown cougar.

It had been so many years, so many nightmares and daydreams ago, coming to a head now, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. The fear of rejection was palpable, seething below the surface as he took each step, his throat constricting as emotions tried to overwhelm him.

The interior of the small restaurant was a lot less formal than the outside of the building would portray. Big booths lined the walls and small, intimate tables were scattered around the middle of the room. Comfortable chairs were at the sides of the tables, brown leather covering each of the plump cushions.

The lighting hung high overhead in the lofted ceilings, casting down soft glowing illumination all around the room. His eyes darted from booth to booth, table to table, searching for-

Her hair was longer. It swayed down past her shoulder blades as she rocked in the chair, obviously holding a delicate bundle in her arms. Clese. It must be his newphew, Clese. Her formerly overly thin frame was filled out with motherhood, her face softer than the hard lines of her youth. Motherhood suited her, he decided and all of a sudden his nerves were gone. His body relaxed, his soul settled.

When she looked up and smiled at him, tears building instantly in her eyes, his own started to well up. She stood from the table at the same time a tall tiger stood from the chair next to her. His face was gentle as he touched a hand to her shoulder, gesturing for her to pass the infant to him. He knew that must be her husband. The way he met her eyes, nodded, a small smile gracing his lips settled his soul even more. He could tell that he loved her, and that he loved their child by the way he cuddled the small bundle close.

She fully faced him, stepping gently from around the chair legs and simply waited, giving him the time and space to come to her if he was ready. Tiran felt Brawn squeeze his hand and let go before whispering, “Looks like she’s only happy to see you, Tiran. I think she is scared that you’ll walk away, just as much as you are scared that she will walk away, too.”

He let his mate go, and stepped back, watching Tiran take a tentative step forward, a breath catching in his throat as his feet picked up speed, rushed forward and he scooped her up into his arms. Brawn’s throat clenched and he met Tiran’s sister’s husband’s eyes and nodded a greeting, moving toward the table, waiting for the siblings to release one another.

“I’m so sorry, my brother.” She sobbed into his shoulder, holding him close.

“No, no, my dear Cloe. It wasn’t your fault.” He pulled back and met her eyes, the same gold color as his own. Unlike Tiran, whose fur was a solid silver, hers was a mixture of the traditional cougar gold and their mother’s silver. “Just as beautiful as always, sis,” his smile for her had one blooming on her lips and they hugged close, just holding on for a while.

When they finally let one another go, he dabbed his fingers at the corners of her eyes, “No more crying, sis.” She turned and reached a hand out to her husband and the tiger walked closer.

“Tir, this is my husband, Van. Van, my brother Tiran.” They shook hands, and she took her son back into her arms. “And this perfect little man is your nephew, Clese.”

She gently handed him over, and Tiran was terrified of hurting him, holding the young male as gently as he could, cupping the back of the infant’s head, looking down into the perfect little face. The boy’s eyes were green like his father’s. He had Cloe’s coloring, his father’s cheekbones, the shape of Cloe’s eyes, the shape of her ears. He was a beautiful combination of the two loving parents. “He’s beautiful, Cloe.” His voice broke again and she poked him in the ribs. “No crying anymore, remember?” They shared smiles and he turned to Brawn who stood close by, hands tucked into his pockets.

“Look at him, Brawn,” Tiran whispered. “He is so perfect.” Brawn smiled and came up next to Tiran, slipping an arm around his mate’s waist. “Yes, baby, he is perfect.” He looked up and met Cloe’s eyes. “You done good, Cloe!” She swatted at Brawn’s arm, laughing.

The ice was broken, the tension gone, and they all sat down to lunch together. Cloe handed Tiran a bottle of breastmilk and let him feed his nephew, watching as he smiled down at the infant, infatuated. She couldn’t blame him. She’d been just as taken with her little man the second the midwife had laid him in her arms, just seconds after he had been born. He’d been screaming at the top of his little lungs, arms and legs flailing about. The second he was given to her and she held him close he calmed down, settling into her arms and just stared at her. It made part of her broken heart whole again, seeing her brother holding her child, smiling and happy.

Brawn had called her a couple of days after Tiran’s withdrawal had ended, telling her everything. He apologized that he hadn’t figured it out sooner, that they hadn’t been at the funeral. She’d just told him that everything was okay, that she was glad he called and told her what had happened. They had talked for about an hour while Tiran had slept and he’d set up this meeting, so that they could see where everything truly lied. From all appearance, everything was perfect between the two siblings, and their world was making itself right again.

They spoke of everything under the sun. She loved to hear of what he’d become, what he did for a living. His stories of how they had built their lives together made her feel better about not being there for him like she wished she could have.

Three hours passed before they realized it and Clese was getting restless. She took her brother’s hand across the table cloth, “I’m so glad you came, Tir. I missed you so much.”

He gripped her small hand in his, squeezing lightly. “I missed you, too.” He looked down, unsure of how to say what he wanted to next. “I know that Brawn called you about…” He swallowed hard and moistened his lips with his tongue. “I’m having to face this on a day to day basis.” He met Brawn’s eyes and his mate nodded, “I still have times when I want to do more. Find more. It’s hard to resist those moments, and I’m having to realize that I will always be a drug user. I will, eventually, be a drug user who doesn’t use drugs anymore. I’ve only been clean for a week, sis.” He met her eyes and what he saw there was understanding and love, no hate, no pity, no anger. “Next week I’ll start seeing a counselor. Brawn is going to go with me for most of the sessions, but I’d like to have you with me for a few of them… If you don’t mind?”

She stood up so abruptly that he was momentarily scared that he had made her angry at him. When she simply came around the table, pulled him to her, and hugged him to her stomach, her arms wrapped around his head, holding him close, his body relaxed. “Of course, I’ll be there. Anytime you want me there, I’ll be there.”

When they all parted ways and each went home, Tiran knew a piece of his soul had been put back into place.

~~~

The water slid over his body like his lover’s hands when they made love. The gently sloshing over his fur lulled his aching muslces and tired mind. Sometimes it felt like there were two people fighting for space in his body. One who wanted peace and craved balance, and the other that needed disfunction and craved to unleash the feral animal inside his skin.

The pain shot through his body, spasms of uncontrollable need that called for him to do the unthinkable… again. He forced his body to the edge of the pool, the cold water now barely aiding his body to cool down for it was so overly heated.

His fingers gripped the brick edge of the pool, his head dipped low so that it lapped at his forehead. His chest arched backwards as air plunged into and out of his lungs, painfully penetrating his body. Needles ripped up his bloodstream, arcing from his core through every inch of his skin, muscle, bone, heart and brain.

He hissed out the pain, sweat slicking his skin even as the water that surrounded him cooled his whole body down, taking the shakes from the need for the drugs to the shaking of a drained body in need of heat.

He jerked in fear when strong arms wrapped him up from behind, pulling him up against a hard chest, chiseled with long hours in the gym. Those arms banded around him in a manner that should have terrified most, but only gave reassurance and needed support to Tiran. He leaned his head back onto Brawn’s shoulder, taking the support he offered.

“How bad, Tiran?” Brawn asked.

“Scale of 1-10?” He paused, thinking, “between a 6 and 7.”

Brawn cursed. They were getting worse. Slowly but surely the pain was getting more and more intense with each post withdrawal episode. “We need to get you into that counselor, and a doctor, Tiran.”

His mate shook his head vehemently. “No, no doctor. I agreed to the counselor, but I can’t handle doctors yet.” Brawn knew the doctor would mean needles for tests and also knew that Tiran hadn’t just snorted drugs, he’d also injected them. He’d found injection sites all over his inner arms and legs.

“Okay,” he murmured, “No doctor.. yet. You’ll need to see one eventually.”

“I know, Brawn, I know,” the pain in Tiran’s voice broke Brawn inside.

He turned his man in his arms, pulling Tiran’s legs to wrap around his waist, and carried him our of the pool to the gazebo where they had a huge bed. They loved to sleep outside a lot of times and they loved the feel of the breeze over them when they were in the gazebo, so they bought this huge California King mattress to go under it.

He laid his healing lover on the bed, seeing the uncertainty in Tiran’s eyes. He cupped his man’s face in a palm, pulling their lips together in an intimate dance of lips, tongue and teeth. The wind whipped around them, cooling skin that was heating quickly in passion.

“Let me take care of you, Tiran. Let me take you away from here, from everything in the world, all the pain, all the struggle. Let me help you heal.” He felt his lover sigh and shudder acceptance and Brawn’s hands roamed. He loved to feel the soft fur of his mate’s body. So soft, so slick, and when wet, made his need the body it covered like he needed his next breath.

He slid his body down Tiran’s, until he caught a nipple between his lips, nicking one with a fang. Tiran loved the nip of pain during intercourse, and Brawn loved to give him what he needed. The taste of his man’s body, the feel of the taught nipple budding under his lips’ attention spurred him on. He felt his own arousal grow, his body jumping on the “Make Love To Tiran Until His Head Spins Like The Exorcist” bandwagon like he couldn’t live without facing the challenge.

He avoided touching Tiran’s arousal, knowing that the longer he didn’t touch him, the more aroused he would be and the longer he would be able to torture his man. His lips caressed the insides of his thighs, nuzzling into the meeting of thigh and groin, licking, nipping, breathing in the scent of his man. He forced Tiran’s legs open further, propped his mate’s heels against his shoulders, and hissed out a low breathe against his balls.

He laved both orbs with his tongue, grinning at the moans and hissing breaths that he heard coming from Tiran. Using his tongue, he pulled one orb between his lips, sucking on it, rolling it around his mouth, putting suction on the delicate part, putting pressure from his mouth around it to add just enough pressure to make Tiran grip the bedsheets and pant. He let the orb drop, and grabbed the other one between his lips, giving it the same treatement, loving the taste of his salty man, still slicked with pool water.

Brawn gripped the globes of Tiran’s ass, digging in claws so that there was a pinch of pain. He drew each hiss and  whimper into the night air, adding pleasure to pain. Still ignoring the bobbing erection, he pulled his lips away from the perfect balls that he loved to taste and propped his man higher, opened him, giving his lips acess to the most perfect pink pucker he had ever seen.

When his tongue met that pucker, he hummed in absolute pleasure at the taste. His body came fully alive with need, having been in a partial hibernation while he’d been determined to give the utmost pleasure to his man.

He rimmed him, running his slick tongue around the edge of tight muscle, lapping, taking in the taste of his perfect man. He sealed his lips against the spot, stabbing his tongue into Tiran’s ass, taking him with his tongue. He loved to do this. Loved to feel Tiran this way.

He heard fabric tear and grinned like the panther he was, knowing Tiran had torn into the sheets… again… with his claws.

Pulling away suddenly, he let his mate’s ass slap into the bed and took his full length into his mouth, deep throating him until the long and thick erection was swallowed, massaged by Brawn’s tight throat. He hummed, using the vibrations to give more and more pleasure. His fangs lightly nicked the length, his tongue swathed it, curled around each inch, flicking and teasing.

Tiran panted, begged, ripped the sheets up, pulled at Brawn’s fur, frantic for release, but he knew that Brawn wouldn’t let it happen, and he felt his mate’s hand gripped around the very base of his cock, keeping the orgasm from being able to happen.

He released the length from between his lips, a little ‘pop’ heard as it slipped from between his lips. He looked up and gave a feral grin at the shocked look on his lover’s face. His body slid back up Tiran’s, putting them lips to lips, chest to chest, and groin to groin, their erections rubbing together.

“You. Are. Mine.” He growled to Tiran, locking their lips together, fangs clicking, tongues battling for position.

The panted “yes” turned to a whimpered moan when Brawn rubbed their erections together, hard. Brawn leaned back, sitting back on his heels. “Pull your legs up, baby. Show me that pucker again.”

Tiran followed instructions perfectly, linking his arms at the bend of his knees. “So fucking sexy,” Brawn murmured, eyes locked on the picture his mate made spread for him. He licked his lips, meeting Tiran’s eyes, seeing the need and the desperation there.

“I won’t be easy tonight, Tiran. I don’t think you want me to be gentle, do you?”

The man furiously shook his head back and forth, his bottom lip gripped in bleeding tightness between his fangs. Brawn lined up his body, met his man’s eyes, and slammed home. Tiran screamed in a mixture of pleasure and pain, head thrown back against the pillows.

Brawn had to pause, the tightness of Tiran’s body gripping his cock so tightly he’d swear his ass was going to break his cock off at the base. “Fuck, baby. You are so perfectly tight!” He used his arms to pull Tiran closer, and started to move.

He pumped in and out of Tiran’s tight hole, gritting his teeth together at the heat and pressure that gripped at his cock. His arms screamed with the strength it took to keep up the pace, muscles straining and rippling under his fur.

Brawn pulled Tiran up and switched their positions, letting his man ride him, watching as Tiran used his legs to spear Brawn’s cock into and out of his own ass, over and over. When he began to ride Brawn’s cock like a cowboy riding a bull, Brawn hissed out breath after breath.

Without warning, Tiran’s body came, rippling around Brawn’s cock like a vise. He needed no other invitation, coming into his man’s body, loving the feel of the ropes of cum slapping against his chest, throat, and chin as Tiran came for a long two moments.

They collapsed together across the bed just as the moon peeked out around the clouds in the sky. On their sides, they stared at one another, their eyes glazed with monumental orgasms. Their hands were still moving, caressing, touching, needing the closeness. Murmured words were exchanged, words of love, apologies that were brushed away, kissed away.

When they separated, Brawn pulled his mate close, and they slept, face to face in each other’s arms.

~~

Tiran’s palms sweated, and he felt itchy. Little spasms of pain lanced through his body and he hid them, plastering a fake smile on his lips as he waved and watched Brawn pull out of the driveway the next morning. They had shared a deep level of intimacy the night before, at a level that they had yet to reach before.

When he saw the sedan turn the corner he slouched and shut the front door, walked into their bedroom and sat heavily on the bed, body shaking and heart racing. From the underside of the nightstand drawer he pulled a manila envelope and poured the contents onto the bed.

He sat, staring at those contents, fighting with himself and what he wanted, what his body craved. His mind just kept racing as he stared, shaking with need of a different kind than he had felt the night before.

He remembered the words he had spoken to his sister: It’s hard to resist those moments, and I’m having to realize that I will always be a drug user. I will, eventually, be a drug user who doesn’t use drugs anymore.

The words rang over and over again, one main word smashing into his resolve like a hammer into delicate glass: eventually.

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