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Wade woke up first, slowly and sluggishly, not ready to give up the lazy, hazy feeling of a late morning, the chance to sleep in one that came along so rarely, he was tempted to force himself back to sleep and ignore the sun for another hour or so.
“M’still tired, Alpha.” Quiet words from the beautiful Omega tucked into Wade’s arms and he automatically adjusted the pillows so Peter was more comfortable, tugged the blankets up to cover his mate’s slender frame. “Stay in bed with me.”
“Not going anywhere, my mate.” Wade whispered, and Peter smiled sleepily and budged back so his hips rested snug against his Alpha, humming when Wade tried to pull him even closer, going so far as to part his lean thighs as permission for his Alpha to slip back inside him.
“I thought you were tired, baby boy.”
“I’m never too tired for you, Alpha my Alpha.”
“Jesus, Omega.” Wade fit his teeth into the silvered bond mark at the curve of Peter’s neck, loving the quiet shudder from his mate and the soft mewl of pleasure when he reached low to coax Peter open with the gentlest of touches. “I thought last night wore you out.”
“I’m never too tired for you.” Peter repeated, sighing in full body contentment when he was full of his Alpha again, Wade not moving at all, just resting inside thick and heavy and perfect.
The room smelled like mates, like love woven through with arousal, like sex and sweat, like possessive Alpha and happily claimed Omega and it was a heady mix, intoxicating and drugging and Peter turned his nose into the pillow and moaned when all he could taste breathe scent was them.
Last night the entire apartment had smelled like dinner, like steak and garlic and butter vegetables and potatoes with gravy. There had been music and laughter and teasing touches and heated kisses that lingered longer and longer until the cake burned in the oven and then everything smelled of bitter chocolate and burnt caramel and sugary frosting.
Wade had scooped up the frosting on his fingers and Peter had licked it off, and Wade’s eyes had gone dark red when Peter had sank to his knees right there in the kitchen and sucked at the Alpha’s fingers, licking and lapping and sighing as he devoured every hint of chocolate, as he hollowed his cheeks and ran his tongue over and around and up and down until his mate had cursed and pulled away, had pulled Peter to his feet and bruised his lips in a taking sort of kiss.
Wade’s fangs were wicked, curved and sharp and he’d smeared the chocolate frosting over Peter’s bonding mark before digging his fangs in and breaking skin, tasting lust drugged blood and too sweet chocolate in his mouth and on his tongue and Peter–
–Peter had come from that alone, from his mate’s hands on his body, and fangs in his neck and the noise the Alpha had made as he clutched Peter tight to his body.
Peter had come with a gasp and a little cry, his knees going weak and Wade had been right there to catch him, the Alpha was always there to catch his mate, his sweet Omega, the one Wade loved more than he’d known it was possible to love anyone ever.
Wade loved when Peter came for him, when the Omega found his pleasure over and over, when Peter dug his nails into Wade’s back and cried for more, when he was sated and limp afterwards, when his body was loose and eyes heavy lidded and fingers reaching for Wade, always always reaching for Wade.
Don’t stop.
Don’t stop.
Don’t stop.
Sometimes the Alpha thought he knew everyone of Peter’s heart beats, the significance of each breath, the uniqueness of every blink and perfection of every inch of skin. He memorized the concave of his mate’s stomach and the dip of his navel, the length of Peter’s legs, knew every count up and down each vertebrae and the minute shift of hips and flex of abdomen and it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t enough.
Wade would always need more.
How many years had they done this now? Five? Six? Some days Wade had had Peter forever, couldn’t imagine a time they didn’t exist, some days Peter worried time was passing too quickly and he’d had so little time with his mate, how would he ever be ready to say goodbye?
Never goodbye, Wade always said, it will always be us.
Us, always, whether it was rooftops and sirens and danger and bullets and late night meals of questionable quality.
Us, always, when the Omega was stretched, filled, pressed to the bed and claimed with rough words and rougher bites, soft moans and softer touches, sweet words and sweeter confessions–
You’re mine and I’m yours. My mate, my love, Alpha my Alpha, my Omega, my heart. You’re mine and I’m yours. Forever will never be long enough to love you.
The morning sun snuck through the windows bright enough for Wade to count his Omega’s freckles but he didn’t have to count because he already knew, and Peter arched his back and felt for his mate, but he didn’t have to feel for his Alpha, he knew Wade was right there, always right there, a breath away and waiting to be a breath closer.
Wade was scars to Peter’s perfect skin, wicked fangs to sweet kisses, they were night and day, Alpha and Omega, dark and light and beauty and the beast and opposites in every single way, but here they fit perfectly together, right here in the space between everything else, right here in the space they had carved out together away from the sun and cold nights and stress and danger and work and school and a blood soaked past and uncertain future.
Here, they fit perfectly together for all the right reasons and all the wrong reasons and–
“I’ll never love you big enough.” Wade whispered, digging his fingers into slim thighs and narrow hips and around to close knowingly around a part of his mate he knew intimately, thoroughly, with his fingers and his hand and his lips and his tongue. “Pete, my mate, my Omega. I can’t love you big enough. It’s impossible.”
“It’ll be big enough when you knot me.” Peter whispered back, tightening that beautiful body like he only did with his mate, keeping his Alpha where he wanted, where Wade never failed to give him everything he needed.
“You’re perfect.” Wade hid his laugh in Peter’s thick hair, in the brown curls that were the same shade as the Omega’s gorgeous eyes. He was emotional this morning, sappy sweet and ridiculous, drowning in affection for his mate, in the rightness of this life he never thought he’d have, but he still wanted to laugh because Peter was perfect.
“You’re perfect.”
“I know.” Peter stretched his body out along his Alpha’s, turning his head so they could drag at each other’s lips, a shift of his hips to seat his mate deeper, a hand slipping low between his thighs to feel where he was strained open and lush, slick and warm, taken and claimed and cherished and adored. “You’re perfect too, perfect. Alpha my Alpha. My mate. Perfect.”
The Omega was almost asleep again, lulled under by the presence of his mate, by the completion that only came with being tucked close to who he loved, his eyes fluttering closed as his Alpha marveled over the trust, the surrender of control, the delicate submission flushing his mate’s cheeks the sweetest pink, almost innocent if it weren’t for parted lips murmuring for more, the startling intimacy of a slurred, “Don’t stop.”
Don’t stop.
Don’t stop.
Don’t stop.
“I’m never gonna stop loving you.”
“Say it again.” Fingers linked and pressed tight over a thundering heart beat, panting breaths and body wracking tremors caused by shared kisses and exclamations of mutual pleasure and the soothing ache of being full, of being empty, of coming together, shivers and quiet cries that could only be calmed by a mate’s embrace, by blankets pulled up warm and tucked in tight, by the scent of them drenching the air and settling thick in their noses.
“I’m never gonna stop loving you.”
“Say it again.”
Don’t stop.
Don’t stop.
Don’t stop.
It will always be us.