Sunday January 11th 2009
Who: Mal and Garret What: Reconciliation Where: Mal's house When: Early morning Rating: NSFW
It was at the very latest six in the morning when Garret finally climbed out of Rorie's bed, leaving his young love with a kiss to the forehead as he climbed into the shower to wash the night of sex off his skin. After dressing, pressing another soft kiss to Rorie's face and writing a quick note ("Gone to Mal's, be back for lunch"), Garret jogged the short distance between the two houses and let himself into the hound's place. He had missed the both of them, though he knew Rorie needed to be handled more delicately, because his trust was shattered more easily. Mal operated differently. Garret could take a whole different approach with the hound.
Walking silently through the house, Garret was half surprised to find that both Mal and Max were still asleep, though it became apparent why when he reached the master bedroom. Both of them were in houdn form, and both were curled up on the bed, though Mal looked dignified and peaceful and Max looked like he'd been hit by a bus, limbs sprawled and face buried into one of Mal's massive paws. Stifling a chuckle, Garret carefully scooped the young pup into his arms, carrying him back to his own bedroom. Stirring a little, one eye opened and Max looked up at Garret, then it sleepily closed again. "Waited fer you," he mumbled drowsily.
"I know," Garret said softly, nudging Max's bedroom door open with a hip.
"Y'proud of me?"
Setting the pup down, Garret wasn't really sure what that was supposed to mean. He assumed it was half asleep ramblings. "Sure," he said after a moment, laying the pup down on the bed and stroking a few fingers over his fur. "Very." There was a contented sigh from Max, and then he was still, slumbering again. Closing the door as he left, Garret went back into Mal's room, looking over the massive dark form (who was probably awake by now) before sitting himself on the edge of the bed. Carefully, his hand reached out to stroke down Mal's back, petting the fur slowly.
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Mal was tired. Mostly from dealing with Max. He'd managed to convince the pup that they would set out in the morning to find Garret and it would be best to sleep as hounds. They would be ready to just go when they woke up. Of course, Mal knew shifting required a lot of energy and, as planned, it knocked the pup right out. The elder hound was grateful for the reprieve, managing to catch a solid four hours before he heard someone walking around the house.
Recognizing the pattern of steps and the scent, he closed his eyes again, letting Garret take Max to wherever he was going. The only sign that he was awake was the twitching of his ears, following Garret's movements. Mal didn't bother to shift when his previously-absent lover sat down. He did relax into the touch. It was hard not to when it felt so damned good.
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is idle
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The tension and exhaustion seemed to melt out of Mal as Garret's fingers stroked over the hound's fur. Garret had never really been one to like animals, to touch them or pet them or make himself comfortable with one, but it was hard not to want to touch Mal when he knew the consciousness beneath the fur. "Do you want me to go?" he asked softly, his hand still moving slowly over the other man's body. "I'll understand if you don't want me to be here, if you're angry with me..."
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Mal's ear twitched when Garret spoke and it tickled a bit. After a long moment, he opened on eye, peering at his lover. "Why would I be angry?" It wasn't the most important questions he could have asked, but it was the most curious. Garret was free to stay or go as he chose. Last week he'd chosen to leave. Mal understood it was as simple as that.
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Sighing a little, Garret shook his head. "Nevermind," he murmured, continuing in his petting. He had known Mal needed a different approach, but he had expected some kind of reaction to what Garret had done. He should have known better. Mal didn't have emotions, and when he did they were kept under lock and key and, unless pried out by force, that was where they stayed.
"I'll let you sleep."
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Mal shrugged, the movement burying Garret's fingers deeper in his fur, pulling a soft rumble from his chest. Stopping the sound as soon as he heard it, Mal shifted his head on his paws, looking at Garret. "If you want to stay, you may. Though I am curious as to why you come here and then offer to leave once more."
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It was more than obvious, despite how Mal might try to hide it, how Garret's hand in his fur was affecting him. He was still hound before anything, and it was universal amongst the canine species to want this kind of attention. "I don't know," Garret said with a shrug, starting to use his nails as he scratched down Mal's spine. "I suppose I expected something a bit more substantial to my arrival. Coming home to Rorie was quite a different experience. But... I should have known better. And you look very tired, so I thought, maybe, since you don't seem to care one way or another if I'm here, and you're still in bed..." Bringing his other hand into the job, Garret started rubbing the fur at the base of Mal's tail, somewhat hoping to see a leg start kicking (oh wouldn't that be hilarious). "I figured I could leave and let you sleep. Stop bothering you."
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Mal's eyes drifted closed, not from sleep, but the attention to his back. Garret had often touched him as a human, stroking and caressing, but the sensations didn't translate as well as they did in his own skin. His muscles started to quiver under the touch, enjoying the affection. "I've had enough sleep for awhile." It wasn't like he slept all that much anyways. Four hours was more than enough for him.
Both hands on him brought the happy rumble back. Mal flipped his tail back and forth slowly, shifting Garret's scratching to where it felt best. It wasn't the right spot for a twitching hind paw, but it was definitely enjoyable.
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Slowly smiling, hands kneading and scratching, Garret watched Mal a moment, looked him over. This was him. This was Mal, in essence, Malcoda, fierce hunting hellhound, ruthless killer. Two steps away from getting a belly rub.
But this was the man, sort of, Garret wanted to tie himself to for the rest of his life. This dog. "So... do you want me to stay, then?" The words were idle, distracted, as Garret's eyes roved the hound form. he was taking in detail, noticing things for the first time. He hadn't seen Mal in true form much because he hadn't liked it, because he didn't want to marr the image of the man he'd fallen for. But if this was going to be forever, then this was a part of it.
Slow, hesitant fingers curved over Mal's body, brushing over the bone armor than ran along the hound's shoulders, to the creepy skull on his chest, over his neck and barely brushing the imposing horn where a normal dog's ear should have been. This image was the stuff of nightmares, and Garret was not only touching it, stroking it, but he was in love with it.
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Mal managed to tear himself away, mentally at least, from the stroking, noting the way Garret's fingers shook slightly any time he touched something that wasn't a typical canine attribute. Secretly, he liked the touch over his armor, but he knew that Garret didn't. Stretching his paws forward, he started to rise, ready to jump off the bed. "If you want to stay, you would be welcome. I'll go shift." Mal knew Garret preferred the human skin, so he was willing to make the concession for him to stay.
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"Don't." The word was soft, but forceful, with only the faintest hint of hesitation. It would have been easier to have Mal go shift, and they could lay in bed together, or on the couch, or do any number of things (sex not being the least of them). But Garret wanted- no, he needed- to see Mal in this way. "Just... stay awhile. You can shift later." Everything about this hound was enormous, his paws and his eyes and his teeth, holy shit. Garret felt like little red riding hood. But, in a strange sense, it was beautiful. In the same way a dark chasm, the abyss of space, could also be beautiful. It was scary and striking and you couldn't help but be amazed by it.
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Okay, that was unexpected. Mal was confused and it showed on his face and in his body even though he settled back on the mattress. Garret usually leapt at the chance to have Mal look human. Why would he halt it at this point? It wasn't worth asking, so Mal dropped his head back on his paws to wait.
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Despite how massive and imposing Mal looked, Garret couldn't help but see how, well, doggy he was. The way confusion played out on his face, how he laid himself down with his head on his paws. It was very hard to assosciate this creature with the same man that had those piercing eyes and the beautiful smile and a smooth, hairless body.
"Why is it that I'm supposed to be proud of Max?" he asked after a moment, letting both hands run over one of Mal's horns. It just felt weird to touch, like petting an elephant tusk.
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It may have felt weird to Garret, but it felt like home to Mal. No one other than demons had touched him like that, and they didn't do it to be kind. There was always some ulterior motive. Closing his eyes, he kept still, letting Garret explore and hoping that he wouldn't stop.
"Max got extremely worried when you left. I convinced him it was a game you were playing. One to test his patience. If you weren't back by yesterday we would track you. The plan was to head out this morning. He wouldn't listen to anything other than getting you back."
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The hand on Mal's horn paused, just a moment, as Garret heard about Max. He had been worried? What for? It wasn't as though he and Max were particularly close. Sure, Garret let him hang around his apartment, but only if Max was quiet and didn't bother him. It wasn't as though he would even say he loved the little pup. (He did, he just wouldn't say it.)
"I almost asked you guys not to track me," he said after a moment, resuming his petting, his fingers now scratching lazily on Mal's forehead. Right above those bright red eyes that still made Garret shiver sometimes.
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Mal closed his eyes to focus more on the scratching, bumping Garret's hand with his head when he paused. "I saw. You didn't scratch through it as well you might have thought. I didn't tell Max that." Mal curled his tail up against his body, keeping it from flipping over the mattress.
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Needy little thing. Smiling to himself, Garret moved his hands over to Mal's shoulders, tracing over the bone plating, this time with less hesitation and more interest. "I suppose that's best," he sighed a little. "I'd hate for him to get any right ideas about me."
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"He likes you," Mal agreed. "Though I haven't quite figured out why." One corner of his mouth curled up in a smirk before he changed topics. "You don't typically want me this way. Why the change?"
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Frowning to himself, Garret prodded Mal in the ribcage before continuing his petting. There were hundreds of reasons Max should like Garret! His big screen tv where he liked to watch Spongebob, for one. And he was pretty much allowed to do whatever he wanted when Garret watched him.
"Maybe I'm looking for a form of yours that I actually like," he said with a shrug. "I was hopeful that, as a pup, you'd be less annoying."
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Mal chuckled at the poke, stretching his paws forward and relaxing once more. "Looks like you're out of luck. One I'm not a pup. And two, in either form it's the same mind. I'm still just as annoying." To prove it, he turned his head and licked Garret's cheek.
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Recoiling, Garret made a face, lifting a sleeve to wipe his cheek. "How about a form that is less disgusting?" he asked with a grimmace. "I would settle just for that at this point."
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Sighing, Mal rose to his paws, leaping off the bed to the floor. "Then I'll go change. You don't mind my tongue that way." So much for the thought that maybe Garret was getting used to the hound. He didn't seem to mind Max as a pup, and Mal would lay odds he wouldn't mind Ziv -June rather- as her normal self. But maybe it was too much to expect he'd like Mal's form.
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"Not on my face," Garret pointed out. "If you walked up to me and just started licking my face in your human form, I would have issue with that." Of course, if Mal started using his hound tongue in other places, Garret would have issue with that as well, but that wasn't here nor there for the moment.
"Don't go yet, I'm not done." Turning to face Mal, Garret patted the bed, hoping that his doggy instinct would force him to come trotting back over.
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Cherry had been a big fan of Mal's tongue, but maybe she was also more open-minded when it came to things like that. Hearing the bed being slapped, he did turn around, though instead of hopping back to the bed Mal plunked himself right on the floor. He saw, tail curled around his flanks and looking rather regal, nearly as tall as Garret sitting on the bed. "What else is it you want to do?"
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It would figure that Mal would be difficult. He was a lot more cat-like than he would ever care to know about. But Garret didn't voice his opinion, because when Mal growled in annoyance, it was a little spooky. Instead he looked over the way he sat, how he seemed statuesque. Like a stone carving that belonged in front of the gates of Hell. This was probably exactly how Mal looked in front of the gates.
"What is your tail made of?" he asked, cocking his head slightly to look at it. "It is like your shoulders, or more like your ears?"
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Mal cocked his head to one side, looking on curiously. "That's what you wish to know?" Garret was indeed a curious human, one that Mal wasn't certain he could accurately read. "My shoulder armor is bone. My tail is some bone, mostly cartilidge. The tip is sharpened bone, used for attack or defense if needed." Why would that be something Garret would wish to know?
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The head cocking actually made Garret laugh, though he kept it well contained in his chest. "Oh," he said, nodding, looking over Mal's tail as though to confirm the facts given to him. From an evolutionary standpoint, it made sense. "Why doesn't Max have one, then? Does he not... is he bred differently?" It was odd to be talking about people he knew as though they were show dogs, but technically both Mal and Max were dogs, and they had been bred for a reason. To them, this was casual talk, like discussing one's haircolor.
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Mal lifted his head, considering how to explain the answer to Garret. "I can't fully answer that, since I don't know his situation, but I'll explain as best I can. Sometimes we are bred by demons, certain males with particular females in order to produce the desired offspring. Much like humans do when crossbreeding animals or plants. The demons do it because they want or need a certain set of skills to fulfill a task." He paused to make sure Garret understood, then continued. "Oftentimes we hounds will mate on our own. When a bitch is in heat, it affects every male nearby. Any pup born of that mating is examined by the masters and then given a assignment."
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It wasn't that anything Mal said was hard to understand, it was more that it was hard to equate Mal with something so impersonal. Even Max was too much of a person to have just been a chance mixing of DNA. So what, if either of the hounds had been unsatisfactory, they'd be killed? It wasn't easy for a human to just accept something like that.
"Are you by choice or by chance?" Garret asked finally.
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Mal had been expecting this question. "I'm by choice, though I wasn't the first attempt." He would let Garret take what he would from that statement. Mal had several siblings that never made it past the first moon because they didn't exhibit the necessary qualifications. Mal was nearly executed himself because he wasn't fearsome-looking, but as that was only a minor point and he possessed all the other qualities, he'd lived.
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There was a part of Garret that didn't want to head any more, and a part that did. Morbid curiosity wanted all the details to the depraved world of the hounds, to hear about Mal's history, to know what his home world was like. And part of him wanted to forget all about this conversation and just let himself live in blissful ignorance.
Swallowing, Garret looked in Mal's eyes, the fiery rubies of intensity. He could almost see the flames of Hell in them. They shone in the morning dim, right now looking patient and curious, but there was obvious darkness looking there. It sent a chill through him. "It's hard to imagine you in that world," he said softly, a hand reaching out to scratch beneath Mal's regally poised chin. "You're just so... I don't know. I don't really know how to describe it. I guess it's just hard to imagine you being caught up in something so inhuman when I've seen such a different side to you."
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Mal allowed the scratching for a moment, then moved his head away so he could speak. "You like to forget that I'm anything but human. I understand that. But you need to remember that this is an act I've perfected over a long time." Max was different. He was still young, he didn't know any better and humans were an amusement to him. Chances were he'd act more human than Mal. June, he wasn't sure about.
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Letting his eyes drop, Garret looked down at his hands in his lap, thinking. "I don't forget," he said softly, mostly to himself. As much as he would often like to, Garret never forgot that Mal wasn't human. Any time he looked into the man's blue eyes, or saw him smile, or heard sweet words from his mouth, it was impossible not to wonder if it was real or not, or if it was just well trained reaction formed from thousands of years of practice.
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He watched as Garret retreated back into himself. Part of him wanted to leave it at that, knowing it was best. He'd given Garret a half truth, saying that everything he did was a lie. If he left it at that, then Garret could leave, enjoy a life with Rorie and be done. But Mal couldn't do that because, dammit, he did care.
Huffing softly, he stepped forward, resting his head on Garret's knee. "The only thing you shouldn't doubt is what I feel for you. You should know me well enough that I won't say something I don't mean."
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Garret's entire relationship with Mal was based upon him knowing one thing and Mal telling him the exact opposite. He knew his gut instincts were usually right, because if there was one thing in the world that Garret Foss knew, it was people. And as much as Mal liked to protest that he wasn't really a person, he still was. And Garret knew him a lot better than the hound wanted to admit to.
"I know," he said, voice still soft, as he petted Mal's head absently. "I know you love me. Sometimes I just wonder how realistic my life with you will be. I know I'm not what you're used to, and I know that a house and a kid and Rorie isn't..." It wasn't what Mal wanted from life. Even now, Garret was pretty sure that if Hades accepted him with open arms, Mal would go back. Maybe even give up his life here if he could just go back.
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Mal's tail swished over the floor, his hound mouth curling up in a smile. "And here I thought you'd be thrilled you're not like what I'm used to. You complain often enough I compare you to others."
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Frowning, Garret did finally look up, if only to shoot Mal a look. "There isn't a comparison, that's the problem," he pointed out. "You say that I'm just like thousands of other humans you've known throughout your very long, very impressive life. I get it. I'm nothing special to you." With a little, rueful smile, Garret mussed the top of Mal's head playfully, then after a pause kissed his snout. "Well you're special to me, at least. I guess that's what matters."
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Mal sighed. "And I'm guessing that you don't believe in reincarnation so it's pointless to tell you that maybe I have met you before." Raising his head, he glanced up. "Still want me to stay this way or do you want the human?"
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There was a long pause in which Garret was quiet, his brow furrowed as he simply stared at Mal, quizzically. "Are you telling me that the reason you don't think I'm different than so many other people you've met is because I am those other people?"
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Shrugging, Mal pulled back without answering the question. Whether it was so or not, he wasn't sure Garret would really want to hear. Better to just step back and leave it be. "Since I don't need to track you this morning, and I know you'll be more comfortable, I'll change." Turning, he headed towards his bedroom door, opening it with his tail. The intention was to use one of the empty bedrooms to shift. Mal knew it made Garret's stomach turn to hear the bones break.
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There really was no limit on what Garret could believe anymore. After all, it was bizarre enough that there was a dog talking to him right now, how farfetched could it be to think that he had been other people in previous lives? Maybe he'd been someone interesting. Maybe he'd been someone awful. He would think on it a few days before finally asking Mal for more information and, when the hound refused to give a straight answer like he usually did, Garret could wonder some more.
"You don't have to," Garret said, before Mal could go. "Unless you want to, that is. And if you do, you don't have to leave for it." Scooting back onto the bed, Garret laid himself down, getting comfortable amongst the pillows. He needed to get used to this one way or another.
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That was it. There was something going on and Mal wanted to get to the bottom of it. Closing the door once more, he resumed his seat at the corner of the bed, staring at Garret. "What's going on? You've made it perfectly clear in the past that you do not like seeing me as myself. I think it's you don't like being reminded of your obvious beastiality tendencies, but I'm going to leave that be." Curling his tail around him, Mal watched, wary. "You don't like watching or hearing me shift and much prefer me in the same skin as you. Now you're saying you don't mind. Why?"
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Well this was certainly (what felt like) an uncalled for attack! Sitting up, Garret stared at Mal for a moment like he might have gone mental. "Okay, fine," he said with a huff. "The truth is, I've been hired by ninja assassins to take out all the hounds on Earth, and in order to do so I need to study them and their weaknesses. And I figure that, because you're preoccupied when you shift, I can find the perfect moment to stab you in the head and take you out." Giving Mal a perfected 'I dare you to challenge my logic' look, Garret crossed his arms over his chest, huffing.
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Mal rolled his eyes. Figured that Garret wouldn't give him an honest answer. "Sure. But I can promise, assassin, that even while shifting I could probably take you down." Mal got to his feet once more and moved to the end of the bed. If Garret wanted to hear him shift, fine. At least this way he wouldn't be able to see without crawling to the end of the mattress.
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"You always assume the worst of me," Garret grumbled, crawling himself down the bed closer to Mal. What, people weren't allowed to be curious? Change their minds? Mal had done plenty of that in the time that they had been together. It was a little off putting that, instead of just assuming Garret had had some change of heart, that something was "up".
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"No. I just go with what I know and your habits," Mal retorted easily. After a quick full-body stretch, he focused on the form he wanted to take, the way the muscles and bones would lay, the skin, the hair. He brought that image forward in his mind and felt the shift take over. Joints popped, cracked then broke outright, muscles rippled under the skin that changed with him. And all the while Mal was aware of the human peeking over the mattress.
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Just hearing Mal shift was gruesome, and watching it was worse. Still, Garret only winced a few times, for the most part keeping a straight face. This was normal to Mal, and it didn't hurt him, and he needed to keep that in mind. Max would no doubt shift on a whim, not even considering that it was possibly the most horrible thing a human could watch. So Garret needed to make himself desensitized to it.
He was very glad when it was done though, when the familiar human form was standing before him (and he was naked too, a bonus). Sighing a bit in relief, it took a moment for Garret to notice that the room had gotten considerably hotter. Wiping his forehead with a sleeve, he looked up at Mal, offering a small smile.
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Mal had spoken to Max before about not shifting in public, but he wasn't certain the lesson and completely settled in. For himself, he preferred privacy anyways. Shifting was incredibly personal as it left him mostly defensless, despite his boast to Garret. Once back into human form, he paused for a moment on hands and knees, reorienting himself.
Finally, he stood, unaware he'd warmed up the room by several degrees to accomodate the naked form he wore. He noticed Garret's murmurs, and the fact he was sweating a bit. Frowning, he backed off projecting the heat.
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Mirroring Mal's frown with one of his own, Garret got up to his knees. "Everything okay?" he asked, moving to the edge of the bed, reaching out to touch that all too familiar form.
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Mal nodded once. "Yes. I just noticed you were hot. I didn't realize I'd projected that much heat." He moved closer, letting Garret touch him. "Better?"
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Resting his hands gingerly on Mal's waist, Garret remained quiet a moment. Mal didn't react to being touched like this the same way he had as a hound. It was obvious he didn't mind the contact, but he didn't relish it, either. Not like before. "No," he decided, pressing a soft kiss on Mal's stomach, just above his navel. "Not better. Just... different."
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It didn't feel quite the same to Mal. Sure, it still felt good, but it was almost as though his sense of touch was dampened by the change. It wasn't his real skin, so Garret was touching only a mask, not him. "If not better, then preferred."
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Another gentle kiss was pressed, and another, before Garret shook his head slightly. "No," he said again, breathily. "Just different." He couldn't say that he preferred Mal in his hound form, but he didn't hate it. And there were certain things about it that he did like, such as the way that Mal acted when Garret touched his fur. He liked feeling as though he could make Mal that satisfied.
"Oh," he said suddenly, pulling away. "By the way... this is yours." Fishing in his pocket, he pulled out a ring, identical to the one Rorie had gotten yesterday afternoon. Placing it in Mal's hand, Garret curled the man's fingers around it, then placed both hands back on his waist. "And you might want to keep March third open. You know, if you feel like it." Peering up with twinkling eyes, Garret gave Mal a cheek wink before returning his attention to those marverlously sculpted abs, kissing the muscles gingerly.
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Mal may not have responded as he would in his other skin, but this one wasn't unresponsive. He very much felt the press of lips against his abs, the softness of Garret's breath, the way fingers lightly dug into his skin. He very much liked it.
He frowned, confused when Garret handed him something and glanced down at it once his wrist was released. A ring? March third? Curious, he shifted his gaze from the ring to the man. "What's going on March third?" He had an idea what it meant, but Mal wouldn't be himself if he stepped from the game so soon.
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Lips moving just slightly south, fingers curling just so much more into the skin, Garret chuckled softly. "Aw, pup," he cooed, "and here I thought you could figure out anything." He let the taunt sit in the warm air a moment, hopefully distracting Mal with his mouth as the tip of his tongue darted out, flicking the hound's skin a few times. "If I'm lucky, you and Rorie will both show up... and I won't have to live a single day without either of you."
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"Oh I could figure it out if I wanted to. It's just so much easier to have you tell me." Mal nodded slowly, having figured out Garret's plan. This was a proposal, of sorts. Since he hadn't asked, Mal wasn't going to view it as such. "Uh-huh. And you decided this after a week away?" His stomach tightened reflexively when Garret's nimble tongue stroked something rather sensitive.
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"It wasn't a full week," Garret pointed out, grinning to himself at the way Mal's stomach flinched beneath his lips. That was a good sign. Slowly, the hands on Mal's waist dragged down to rest on his hips, the tips of Garret's fingers kneading slowly. "Only five full days. And yes, I have."
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Lifting his hands over Garret's head, he glanced at the ring. It was a rather lovely piece, that much was certain. What the hell. Mal settled the ring on his finger and then chuckled. "It doesn't quite fit." He wagged his fingers in front of Garret's eyes, displaying the ring caught on the knuckle of his index finger.
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Speaking of lovely pieces... Garret's lips had been about to graze lower, but Mal's hand demanded his attention, so he looked up. And then smiled. "Dumbass," he said fondly, taking Mal's hand and pulling the ring off. "Even Rorie wasn't this corny, you ought to be ashamed of yourself." It had been obvious what Mal was doing, and as corny as it was, it was also incredibly sweet, which was a rarity for Mal. Grinning now, Garret took Mal's hand in his own, and with the other slipped the ring on the proper finger. It was about half a size too big, but as he hadn't spent much time studying the size of Mal's fingers, his guess had been a damn good one. "S'agapo," he said softly, pressing a kiss on the knuckles.
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Mal wasn't expecting that to happen, for Garret to settle it on the proper finger. He'd done it more as a way to antagonize the other, but it seemed Garret was in too good a mood. "Still don't know what's happening in March," he shrugged, joking but sounding perfectly serious. "Have you talked to Rorie about this?" Mal turned his hand, cupping Garret's cheek in his palm.
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"Then what a nice surprise it'll be," was the indifferent reply. He knew Mal was just being difficuly for the sake of it, so he wasn't going to meet the bait and get riled up. There were plenty of other ways Garret could get riled up right now.
Nuzzling into Mal's hand, Garret pressed a kiss to the palm. "About as much as I've talked to you about it," he said honestly. There hadn't been much talking between himself and Rorie last night, unless 'Oh yes' and 'Harder' and 'I love you' counted as conversation.
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"You might want to. You know he's a bit more sensitive than I am about some things." If Garret was proposing to them both, it would be wise for them all to know the deal and agreements.
The ring on his finger felt foreign and odd, but welcome. He wanted it there, but wasn't about to tell Garret. Instead, he brushed Garret's lips with his thumb, getting back to the sensations.
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Capturing the digit in his mouth, Garret bit on Mal's thumb playfully before releasing it. "I know you mean well," he murmured, words accompanied by kissed along Mal's hand, and then his wrist, "but you don't have to tell me how to handle Rorie. I've known him longer, and probably better, than you do. Mkay?" Garret did not always act on Rorie's best interests, or at least on his wants, but there was never a moment in anything Garret did where he didn't know pretty much exactly how Rorie would react to something, or whether or not he could handle something.
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Mal wondered if Garret knew about Rorie's most recent drama. If he'd been over there last night, there was the possibility that Rorie had told him, but Mal wasn't about to say anything about it. It was Rorie's decision to tell. "If you say so. He's had a hard week without you, is what I know."
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Pausing in his affections, Garret sighed, then turned his head from Mal's hand. "I know," he said quietly, almost sounding dejected. He knew he had let Rorie down, in a big way, and even though they had made up last night, there was still a lot of trust that needed rebuilding.
Sitting back on his heels, Garret ran his hands over his face, sighing deeply. "We talked last night. Lots of stuf... stuff I missed..."
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Mal nodded, glad that Rorie hadn't kept what was important secret. "Good. I'm glad he told you." Stepping back, he moved towards the door, locking it just in case some young pup decided to barge into the room again. Moving back over to the bed, Mal laid down, giving Garret space to crawl back up if he chose. He was getting tired of standing in one place while Garret got the cushy seat.
---
Of course, bringing Rorie into light, and all the problems and mess that lay there, had completely sapped any friskiness Garret had been feeling. With a soft groan, he let himself fall back onto the bed, his head landing to rest beside Mal's shoulder, his feet hanging over the end. "He's gonna be a dad," he said dully. "Can you even imagine?"
---
Mal felt the mood change as soon as Rorie had been mentioned. It was time to fix that. "You can think about it later, when Max is awake." Rolling, he covered Garret's body with his own. "We can thoroughly discuss him later if you choose, but for now, we have the time to ourselves."
---
Hmm... think about Rorie, and feel depressed and berate himself, or focus on the gorgeous naked man covering him? It was a very tough decision. Both arms wrapped around Mal's waist, hugging him loosely, as Garret smiled. "Mine forever?" he asked softly.
---
Mal lowered himself down, pressing his body against Garret's clothed one. "Depending on your beliefs, that could very well be the case." Because he could, Mal dipped his head, licking Garret's cheek, the same place as before, in a rare show of affection.
---
At first, Garret was pleased, because that was about as close to a 'yes' as he knew he would ever get from Mal. And then he was very displeased. "Augh," he groaned, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "Come on! Eck."
---
Amused, Mal lifted his head, chuckling. "You wish to love a hound, get used to it. It won't be the last. Especially if Max sticks around." To prove his point, Mal dipped his head again, licking the long line of Garret's throat, finishing with a solid nip on a cord of muscle.
---
With a groany little whimper, Garret let his head fall back against the mattress, allowing Mal's tongue to go wherever it pleased. "You're making me all slimy," he whined. "This is entirely unfair. I don't get my... human all over you."
---
Mal licked across the adam's apple to the other side. "Complaining? I can always stop." He pressed a kiss to the place where throat met shoulder, licking once more.
---
Well... when added with kissing, and gentle biting, maybe it wasn't so bad. "Well..." he debated, squirming slightly beneath Mal, releasing a small sigh at those lips on his skin. "Just keep your tongue off my face." He could handle being licked anywhere else (quite literally), but not on his face. It just served no purpose.
---
"No?" Determined to prove Garret wrong, Mal raised his head, deliberately licking the lips presented to him, tracing their outline with the very tip of his agile tongue. Of course he didn't let it go any further than that. "I do like that part of your face."
---
Frowning, Garret fixed Mal with a look. "That doesn't count," he declared, because he knew all Mal was doing was trying to be a pest. "And you're being annoying on purpose. Stop it." This was all backward. He was the one who was supposed to be doing the seducing, not the other way around. How did it always end up like this? Well, time to make a change. Pushing himself down into the mattress as much as he could, Garret managed to squirm a hand between them, taking a grip in Mal's cock and squeezing it firmly.
---
Mal chuckled, ducking his head to nip Garret's mouth, sucking softly on his bottom lip. "I like the reaction I get from you when I do." Feeling a hand grip his half-hard cock, pulled a groan from his throat. Since being with Garret, Mal had gotten used to regular release, but he'd gone without for awhile recently. That hand around him felt damned good. Two could play the teasing game. Mal took his mouth back to Garret's neck, starting to nip, lick and tease.
---
It was definitelt true, when Mal was annoying he often elicited a stronger reaction from Garret. Usually it was because Garret felt he was fighting an uphill battle, as though the more annoying Mal was meant the harder he had to work to get the hound to comply. Eventually, it just turned into foreplay between the two.
Taking in a deep, slow breath, Garret's chest swelled, pushing Mal away from him slightly and subtly. "No, no no," he murmured with a soft groan, rubbing his thumb over the slick, velvety head. "You don't get to play yet."
---
"And why not," Mal queried, fighting his body's instictive response to arch into that hand. Since he couldn't have access to Garret's neck, Mal arched his back, dropping his head to the chest beneath him. He continued to nip, lick, tongue catching a nipple and turning it to a hard bud.
---
It wasn't like Garret could really push Mal away, even if he did have both hands accessible. The hound could easily overpower him, and if Mal didn't want to stop (which it didn't seem he did), then he wouldn't, and Garret couldn't do much about it. His strength was in his words, and even they only got him so far. "BecauAH, mm..." he groaned, hand pausing a moment as the teeth against his nipple made him shudder. "B-because... mm, fuck... because it's been too long since I got to explore you, and touch you... make you cry out..." The grip between them grew stronger, as Garret began a slow, squeezing stroke. Leaning up toward Mal, Garret bit the man's earlobe, purring softly. "Please let me," he murmured.
---
Mal lifted his head to whisper back, "And whose fault is that?" Still, he could smell the arousal, the desire, the sincerity in his voice. Sighing, he leaned away, rolling off Garret and to the side on his back. Mal knew himself well enough that if he had his hands free, he'd use them, so he linked them behind his head. "I'm yours." Yes, there were multiple levels meant in those two words, and Mal hoped Garret understood them all without expressly saying it.
---
There was not a wasted second as soon as Mal moved off him. Garret practically sprung up to his knees, bending over Mal's body and kissed over his chest, his hands tugging on the hem of his own shirt to pull it off over his head. He'd never gotten truly free reign on Mal's body before, and he intended to milk it for every drop. And speaking of...
Once his shirt had been discarded, and his hands were free, Garret took hold of theat glorious piece again, fist gripped tight around the shaft as he slowly stroked up and down its entirety, drawing Mal to full hardness, coaxing that sweet clear liquid at the tip. Peering up at Mal with bright, clear eyes, Garret flicked his tongue over the tip, lapping up the beaded drop of cum, humming deeply at the taste of it.
---
If they were officially engaged, Mal figured Garret may as well have the chance to check out his body again. It had been awhile and Mal did enjoy having his body explored, even if he never admitted to it. He watched Garret through half-closed lids, seeing him squeeze and lick him. Mal couldn't help the way his hips arched up slightly, encouraging more contact.
---
If he was being granted leeways, Garret wondered to himself if perhaps he should go all or nothing. After all, Mal seemed to be in a good mood. He was wearing the ring, after all, and Garret had half expected it to sit on a dresser or in a drawer for the rest of eternity. He hadn't actually expected Mal to want to wear it. So, if he could succeed there, why not everywhere today?
Pulling away, Garret grabbed his tee shirt from the bottom of the bed, folded it up and laid it across Mal's eyes, then patted his cheek. "Don't move, baby," he said with a grin, raking the nails of one hand down the hound's chest.
---
Mal rolled his eyes just before they were covered with the cloth. "Why do I get the feeling you're going to get yourself in trouble later?" Still, Mal allowed it for now. It was easy enough to change later on if he wanted to. Garret was enjoying himself, they were both recieving pleasure so Mal didn't see the harm.
---
Cooing, Garret poked the hound in the ribcage. "Come, now, don't be mean," he pouted. "You should learn to trust me. When have I ever let you down?" Rorie he had let down hundreds of times, this he knew. But Rorie expected, and needed, so much more from him. Mal didn't hold the same expectations of him. "Besides... I'm your fiance now..." With a soft chuckle, Garret nipped on Mal's chest, mouth slowly going lower, then trailing back up as soon as he reached the navel. "I should get more priviledge in how I play with you. You can't always be in charge, you know..."
---
Mal chuckled at the poke, imagining the pout on Garret's lips. "Fiance? Oh! Is that what that ring means. Huh, imagine that," he teased. He started to barely arch his back, pressing into those teasing touches. "Who says I can't?"
---
Mal liked to tease, in fact he lived for it when it came to Garret. But last night, Garret had submitted fully to Rorie, and he had loved every second of it. But he needed a little control right now, even if it was control on a leash.
Stradling Mal's hips, his jeans rubbing against The Beast, Garret slowly lowered himself onto the other man, chest to chest, his breath slow and even, teasing the hound's skin as it tickled along the collar bone. And then, suddenly, Garret bit down hard on Mal's neck, teeth pressing into the skin hard enough to leave small indentations, lips sucking mercilessly and leaving a bright, obvious mark. After a moment he pulled away, tongue lashing out to barely soothe it. "I do," he growled.
---
Mal was grateful for his senses being sharper than the average human. His sight wasn't much better, but the sounds, the smells told a story all their own. He could hear the way Garret rubbed against the denim covering him, smell the musk just barely starting to permeate the air, the sweetness of breath under his jaw. Mal growled, arching up at the bite, enjoying it completely and not holding back his reaction for once. If Garret wanted him, he needed to be able to handle him.
---
That was much better. Satisfied, and proud of himself, Garret let his lips linger against the hound's neck for a moment longer before he sat backon his heels, still for a moment to let Mal wonder what was happening. He knew if he moved, even slowly, Mal would hear him. So he didn't. Instead he just watched, eyes drinking in the sight before him, breath growing more ragged. And then, slowly, both hands went to his jeans, button slipped open silently, and then the throaty rasp of a zipper being dragged open.
---
Mal listened, not bothering to strain his ears since he knew he'd hear even the faintest sound. He could hear Garret's breathing, the pulse rapidly beating beneath tanned skin. Then finally Mal noticed the denim being opened. It didn't bother him because he liked Garret naked and the clothes were only in the way. So he waited, patiently and silently as expected, cock hard in his lap.
---
Undressing slowly, knowing that, even though Mal had seemingly infinite patience, eventually his wants would overcome his sense of duty. Climbing off the bed, Garret stepped out of his running sneakers, folded his jeans carefully, tossing them gently to the floor. Socks were next, then his underwear, all in a tidy little pile. All completely unnecessary actions, and all just to make Mal wait. It was very rare that Garret felt in control with Mal.
As he climbed back onto the bed, Garret moved carefully, his body snaking up between Mal's legs. Both hands ran up the hound's inner thighs, pushing them apart, a few intermittent kissed pressed to the skin, a few lingering. The scent of Mal grew stronger in Garret's nose, making him purr deeply, a sound not unlike the ones Mal made when he was pleased. It was an intoxicating scent, so incredibly and undeniably male. Fingers curling into the muscles of Mal's powerful thighs, Garret's mouth brushed along the left hip bone, teeth nipping gently at the hairless sac, the smooth, soft skin melting against his lips.
---
Mal relaxed, settling himself in for a long morning. Garret absolutely loved to tease and it was rare for Mal to give him such an opportunity. So he waited patiently, able to guess what was being done when he heard material rustling. The rumble from Garret was matched by one from Mal when he felt his lover between his legs. Gods that felt good. His fingers clenched behind his head, aching to reach down and direct Garret where he wanted him.
---
Even if direction were given, it would be ignored. Garret knew what men, specifically Mal, liked. He had paid enough attention over the months to know what made Mal tick. And he knew what pushed his boundaries, and what made Mal flinch a little, and he wanted to do all of that. The tip of Garret's tongue traced light lines over Mal's sac, flicking at the base of his cock, drawing a smooth line to the hound's tight hole. Pushing against Mal's thighs with his shoulders, drawing his knees up slightly, Garret let his tongue and lips explore, taking advantage of an area that Mal usually did not let him touch. He wanted to make him feel good, overwhelmed even, and there wasn't much that he could do to the hound that would accomplish that.
---
Garret was definitely pushing boundaries and making Mal flinch. He tensed, not certain he liked where this was going, but at the same time it wasn't like it was something he hadn't done before. Both with Garret and with others. And he knew he could stop it at any time, so Mal tired to relax, to take the deep calming breaths and to focus on Garret trying to give him pleasure.
---
Part of the reason behind this was trust, seeing if Mal really did trust Garret, if their future together wasn't just puppy love running away with them. You could never be too old to fall victim to puppy love.
Groaning softly, his own hardness pressing needily into the bed, Garret worked his mouth on Mal, tongue and lips pressing and caressing every sensitive spot, coaxing him away from tension and closer to ecstacy.
Heart hammering hard in his chest, Garret swallowed deeply, his hand moving up Mal's inner thigh, two shaking fingers circling slowly around his tight asshole, hesitantly waiting for the go ahead while the pathfinders lips kissed up the underside of the shaft, slowly making their way to the head.
---
Mal trusted very few people, if any. The one that he had the most faith in, trusted implicity, threw him to the wolves and abandoned him. Anyone else would be hard to reach the same level. But Garret was close. So for him, Mal made himself relax.
He could tell Garret was nervous. Was he worried Mal would stop him? Hate him? Mal listened to the rapid beat of his heart, the way his breath fell unevenly from his lips, felt the way his hand shook. Mal wanted to trust him, to believe that he wouldn't be thrown aside once more, that Garret wouldn't go beyond Mal's limits. So he spread his legs a bit more, giving a soft groan to let him know it was alright. For now.
---
Exhaling sharply, Garret licked his lips, almost shocked at the admission on Mal's part. Things had never gone this easily before, and it was almost unnerving for them to be going this well now. But instead of dwelling, he slowly, gently pushed his fingers inside Mal, his mouth opening wide and taking in the head of Mal's cock, a deep, low hum vibrating his lips.
---
Mal groaned, trying to focus more on the mouth surrounding him rather than the fingers just a few inches south. It wasn't that it wasn't pleasurable, it was, but it was also a reminder of some times that Mal -the hound who remembered everything- would rather forget.
---
Garret wanted Mal to make a new assosciation with these feelings. He didn't want him to remember the demons when this happened, to have to think about the awful things he'd been through. Garret wanted moments like this to be pleasant to remember, to bring a flush to Mal's skin and a shudder down his spine, to make his breath catch, when he thought about being in this position. There was nothing Garret wanted more than to be the one to make Mal actually want to do this. Slowly swallowing the hound's massive, thick cock into his throat, the flat of his tongue pressed to the underside, Garret's fingers gingerly curled inside the hound's body, pressing gradually forward, until...
There. Drawing in a deep breath, relaxing his throat, Garret took as much of Mal's cock down as he possibly could, the tip of his middle finger pressing hard on the nerve cluster inside Mal's body.
---
Mal knew anatomy, knew exactly what Garret was searching for inside his body and could feel the moment he brushed over it. The pleasure shot through his body, but still he tensed. Was this any less forced, pleasure and orgasm, than what he'd experienced before? Was this any different?
And yet it was. Garret wasn't trying to degrade Mal, to control him or use this to hold over his head later. Garret just wanted to please. And that made this better. Well, at least tolerable for now. Mal's hands clenched in his hair, hips rocking up into Garret's throat.
---
There was a slight whimper, one that morphed into a low groan, as Mal pushed up into Garret's throat. It was almost more than he could handle, but he refused to let it be. He wouldn't let Mal think that he couldn't handle it, that he couldn't take everything the hound had to give. He wanted, needed, for Mal to know how much he wanted to please. With Rorie, the younger man had to know that Garret would be there for him, that he wouldn't cast him aside, that he wasn't just some freak that Garret was keeping around. He needed to feel loved. With Mal, it was so much the same, but different. Mal had always been the one doing the pleasing, following orders, taking commands. He needed to know that there was someone who was willing to let Mal be in control, that someone wanted to do all they could to please him.
And Garret wanted to, so much. The fingers inside Mal's body kept their pace slow, steady and easy, but his mouth worked over the hound's cock with fervor, lips sealted tight around it as his head bobbed up and down, panting through his nose as Garret coated the hardness slick, feeling it pulse in his mouth.
---
If it were just Garret's mouth around him, Mal could last all night, but with that pressure, that constant soft stroking inside him, Mal wasn't sure he'd be able to last another five minutes. Garret knew his body so well, that part of it seem ingrained, like he'd known before meeting just what would work. Mal growled, the sound rumbling in his chest and stomach, muscles tightening and quivering with the pleasure, as much as he didn't want to admit to it.
---
If Garret had known what he was doing to Mal, he probably would have gotten off right then just thinking about it. As it was, he had a feeling, and it sent a chill throughout him. He had never felt like he could do this to Mal before, to gain all his trust and make him weak and vulnerable, to feel him tense around his hand... It made him feel both powerful and helpless, like he was in control of this feeling Mal had, but all it could do was make him want to try harder, make him feel more, to hear him cry out in pleasure until he could barely stand it. Taking Mal's length in his mouth, Garret paused with his lips at the base, then as he withdrew the shaft from his mouth, he let his teeth scrape carefully over the skin (something he knew always made Mal growl in that frighteningly sexy way), the fingers inside pushing hard again on that spot. He wanted to hear him, to make Mal part his lips and cry out, to feel the hound's entire body move with the sensation.
---
Garret wanted a growl and he got it. The moment Mal felt teeth against his shaft, he grit his teeth, the sound echoing in the room. He wanted to cum. Oh fuck did he want to cum, but it was soon. Too soon. And so he bit his tongue until he tasted blood, trying desperately to hold back from the edge, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm him.
---
Mal was holding back, Garret could feel it throughout his entire body that he was. He didn't want him to. There was no such thing as 'too soon' for this, when Garret wanted to hear his lover lose control and cry out, to feel him pulse down his throat. Pulling back, Garret let Mal slide out from his throat, his tongue twirling over the tip of Mal's cock. "Please," he whispered, knowing Mal would hear him, knowing that Mal would know what it meant. "Please..." The last plea was whispered, desperate, before Garret took Mal back down his throat, pressing hard again on his prostate.
---
Mal managed to gasp a couple breaths when Garret paused, and the plea only made him growl, back and hips arching off the bed into his lover. He panted softly, right on the edge...
And then he went over. The firm pressure inside him shoved him over the brink, making him explode and melt and roar with pleasure. He could barely smell the scorching of the sheets beneath his fingers, it wasn't even registering through the haze that consumed him.
---
It was so fucking sexy, hearing such a domineering, dark, imposing man lose himself into the sensation, hearing that stark cry into the quiet of the room. Garret barely had time to take a breath before Mal shot his load, unloading hot, thick cum down Garret's throat. Swallowing as much as he could, it was still too much, and Garret had to pull away, coughing and sputtering.
---
Hounds typically had a large load, but when one hadn't gotten off in a couple weeks, it became larger than average. Mal squeezed his eyes shut, the growl morphing to a groan. Slowly he relaxed back to the bed, still floating through bliss for a moment longer.
---
Withdrawing his fingers, Mal's seed dribbling down his chin, Garret panted as he watched his lover come down from his high. God, it was so beautiful, this vision right here. He could just watch this all damn day.
Crawling over the bed, Garret laid himself down beside Mal, his head propper up on his hand as he watched Mal breathe. The room was warm, Garret's skin sheened with sweat, his hair limp in loose tendrils. It was perfect. This was exactly how he wanted his morning to go.
---
Mal still had his eyes covered with the shirt. Garret would probably never wear it again since he could smell a faint whiff of smoke. Apparently he got a little more out of control than expected. Focusing, he brought himself down from his high a little faster than normal, working to lower his body temperature and thus the room as he calmed.
---
Smiling faintly, Garret purred. "You look incredible," he said softly. And he really did. Mal looked calm, and at peace, and absolutely beautiful. Garret couldn't help but swell with pride at it. He had done that to him.
---
One corner of Mal's mouth lifted. "You think so?" Bringing his hands up, he flexed his fingers then carefully lifted the shirt, inspecting it. True to his nose, there were scorch marks, but it wasn't too bad. Mal folded the shirt and set it aside, turning his head to look at Garret.
---
"Mmm." Humming in agreement, and appreciation, Garret moved closer to Mal, resting a hand on his chest. It was hot, but not too much. He felt kind of like Lloyd always had after sex, like he had a high fever. It was comforting. Mal's heart thumped against Garret's palm, as though high-fiving him for a job well done.
"I love you." Garret knew he must look like a hot mess, his hair still damp and unkempt, Mal's seed splashed on his chin and chest, his body flushed and sweaty. And while very other moment of his life Garret cared very much what he looked like, right now, he didn't. Not one bit. He was too busy being in love.
---
Mal's smirk twitched, noting the mess Garret was. It was interesting to see a man who was typically so concerned about his appearance ignoring it completely to stare at a hound. Mal covered Garret's hand with his own, giving it an affectionate squeeze. "And I love you."
---
Breaking into a grin, Garret shied slightly, taking note of the way Mal was looking at him and blushing. He seemed amused, and smitten, and it made Garret pleased and bashful. Wiping his chin on the pillow, Garret shifted closer to Mal, resting his head on the hound's shoulder. "Good."