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“You do realize I have a front door, right?” Your breath puffs out in white smoke, dissipating into the crisp night air. The knit sweater draped over your body does not protect your fingers from the handrail nipping into your skin as you lean against it. “I even gave you a copy of the key.”
Valko’s boots land on your balcony with a thud. His wolfish grin flashes the canines peeking out beneath his top lip. “Where’s the fun in that? If you wanted me to use the front door, why were you waiting out here?”
“Because last time you didn’t message me and stood on the balcony like a lost puppy for hours until I noticed your pitiful gaze.” You open your arms, and Valko scoops you into an embrace, your feet dangling in the air as the world spins.
Valko nuzzles into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, then lets out a low rumble in his chest. He rubs his cheek against your throat until he’s satisfied. Valko sighs, “I missed you.”
Your feet touch the ground, and you card your fingers through his hair, kissing the wrinkles between his eyebrows. Your soft laughter causes his pupils to dilate. I missed you, too, Val.”
“You missed a spot.” Valko tilts his chin, tongue darting across his bottom lip.
You stroke the side of his face, and he melts into your touch, eyes closed in bliss.
“You’re right. Let me fix that.” You lean closer, feeling his heart pound against your palm. His eyes dip to your lips, and the grip on your waist tightens. You kiss his cheek. “There.”
A low whine pitches from Valko’s throat, and this behemoth of a man pouts at you. If his ears were out, you know they would be flat against his skull with his tail tucked between his legs.
You cup his face in your hands and kiss him properly, slowly at first, but the intensity ramps up when Valko nibbles on your bottom lip. You pull away before you both get arrested for public indecency.
“Welcome home, Val,” you say.
Valko’s expression softens, and he buries his face into your neck once more. “Mm. I’m back.”
“I have a treat for you.”
Valko chuckles. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not a dog. I’m a wolf.”
“Alright, Mr. Wolf. Can we go inside now? I’m freezing.” Your legs feel heavy, numb from the evening breeze.
Valko lowers his gaze and frowns, but the apples of his cheeks glow crimson. “Did you steal my clothes again? Are you even wearing anything underneath?”
“I think you mean our clothes. And for the record, I’m wearing my pyjama shorts underneath.” You had to roll up the sleeves a little, but other than that, Valko’s sweater was super comfy to lounge around your apartment in.
You slide the balcony door open and step inside. A black-and-red blur bolts past you into the kitchen. You slam the door shut and run after him.
Your socks slide across the floorboards as you skid to a halt, finding Valko surrounded by scraps of paper and foil, a chocolate bar centimetres from his open mouth.
“DROP IT.” Your voice reverberates in the room, and Valko flinches—the chocolate bar clatters to the counter.
Valko looks at you with a guilty expression, and you find it difficult to be upset at him. His wounded look pricks your conscience. He asks, “This isn’t for me?”
You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh. “It is, but I was planning to bake something for you. I wanted to give you something nicer than plain chocolate.”
Valko stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. His head rests on your shoulder—your personal weighted blanket. Red strands tickle your cheek, and any remaining frustration melts from your muscles.
“Cookies?” Valko sways with you in his arms.
You shake your head.
He eyes the muffin tin on the counter and guesses, “Cupcakes?”
“Not quite,” you say, holding in a laugh when you feel a frown against your skin.
“Can I help?” Valko asks.
You look over your shoulder, and sure enough, a pair of amber puppy-dog eyes stare at you. A soft whimper deals the final blow to your cracking resolve.
“Okay, but you have to listen to my instructions,” you say.
Valko nods and kisses your temple. His voice lilts by your ear. “I can be a good boy.”
There’s a flutter in your stomach that you ignore, unwilling to take his bait. You point to the bowls and a carton of eggs. “Can I trust you to separate the yolks? I need two whole eggs and two yolks.”
Valko slowly peels his arms away, as though his skin were made of tiny barbs that hook into you. Valko hesitates, and he’s probably going over the logistics of completing his task while attached to you.
“I can’t work under these conditions.” You weigh the dry ingredients and whisk them together. A soft grunt wheezes from your chest when the weight on your shoulder shifts to the top of your head.
Valko rubs his face into your hair, taking another deep breath.
“Hey! You’re making a mess,” you say. No matter how much you squirm, the warm weight against your back won’t leave you alone. It’s a small mercy that summer is far away. “Can you not cling to me for five minutes?”
You huff and turn around, pushing Valko’s face away when he leans in for a kiss. His laughter resonates in your bones, and he nips your palms, playfully biting your fingers.
“But you like it when I cling to you.” Valko’s hands wander, stroking the small of your back.
“I’m going to say the same thing I told you outside the bathroom. I. NEED. SPACE.” God forbid you have a little privacy on the toilet, or anywhere in general. It’s hard to move around with over 200 pounds strapped to your back. Heck, if the embarrassment wouldn’t kill you, you’re pretty sure Valko would be content carrying you around in a sling or a makeshift baby bjorn.
Valko buries his nose in your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo one more time before removing his arms and stepping back. He shuffles to the sink and washes his hands. Valko returns to the eggs and stares at the bowls.
You slice the butter and dump it in a ceramic bowl. Next, you break the chocolate bar into smaller pieces and add that, too. You bring a spare chunk to Valko’s lips, and he immediately latches on. His tongue licks the sticky remnants from your fingers before they pop out of his mouth. A fluffy tail wags behind him, and you notice his wolf ears are out. You clear your throat and avoid his gaze, waiting for the warmth to leave your cheeks.
“Do you even know how to separate eggs?”
“Do I know how to separate eggs?” Valko scoffs, repeatedly tossing and catching an egg in the air. The confident smirk on his face never wavers. “I can do it with my eyes clo—”
SPLAT
A crisp crunch cuts Valko off, and you both stare at the puddle of yolk oozing into the whites. Tiny pieces of eggshell drift in the viscous mixture.
The good news is that it landed in one of the bowls.
“You might not know, but this is one of the quickest ways to crack an egg,” Valko says, leaning against the counter with a smile.
Your eyebrows furrow before rising to meet your hairline. “It’s not an efficient method unless you like a crunchy surprise in your food.”
Valko waves his hand. “That’s an easy fix.”
He pinches the rogue eggshell pieces and removes the large chunks, but the smaller bits keep slipping away from him. Valko’s cheeks flush, and he grumbles to himself.
“Why don’t you stick to watching?” you suggest.
“No, no! I got this,” Valko says, fishing to no avail.
You crack another egg and use the shell to scoop out the fragments.
“I was going to try that next. You stole my idea.”
“Mhm. Sure,” you say. While microwaving the chocolate and butter, you watch Valko concentrate as he cracks the third egg and carefully juggles the yolk between the two halves of the shell.
His brows are furrowed, lips pursed slightly in concentration. Valko’s completely locked into his task, and he treats it with the same gravity as hacking into a high-level security network.
You’re almost afraid that you’ll break his concentration if you speak, and you won’t risk losing a yolk over that.
While the chocolate mixture cools, you spray the muffin pan with cooking oil and dust it with cocoa powder.
Valko runs up to you with the bowl of eggs. “I did it!”
He bends down slightly, and you pat his head, scratching the spot behind his wolf ears. One of his legs twitches at the edge of your vision. “Good job!”
“What’s next?” Valko waits for your next command.
“Now we combine everything.” You beat the eggs into a single mixture before dumping it into the dry ingredients and adding the melted chocolate and butter.
Valko reattaches himself to your back, and strong arms lock around your waist. His tail curls around your thigh, tickling you with its soft fur.
You pause and glance over your shoulder. “Seriously?”
“I waited the whole day to hold you,” Valko says, squeezing your midsection.
“Right. And that must have been utter agony.” You whisk the batter until smooth. Warm lips press against the junction at your neck and shoulder, leaving affectionate kisses that trail to the pulse point behind your ear. Sharp canines teasingly pinch the soft cartilage before licking the shallow imprints left behind. You nudge your elbow into his ribs. “You’re so fucking heavy. I should stop feeding you—maybe cut back on the sugar.”
“Did you forget that glucose is an important energy source for the brain? And this” —Valko flexes his arms— “is all muscle, Sweets.” Valko’s voice dips to a purr. “You weren’t complaining about them last night. You could barely keep your hands off me.”
“Hmph.” You divide the batter evenly among the 6 cups, scraping every bit you can from the bowl with a rubber spatula. “Keep teasing me, and I’ll ban you from treats.”
“You can hide all the sugar in your apartment, but don’t forget, Miss Sweet Treat, that there’s something else I crave more than chocolate.” Valko nibbles on your ear. His thick chest thumps against your back, and you can only hope his heightened hearing doesn’t pick up the thunderstorm raging in your ribcage.
You shake your head. “You are insatiable.”
Valko takes the tray from you and slides it onto the middle rack after you open the oven door for him and set the timer.
“I have a big appetite, and I know what I want.”
You turn around and loop your arms around his neck. “And what do you want, Val?”
The oven door creaks closed. Your back collides with the counter.
Valko’s nose brushes against yours, and his eyes flicker to your lips. He lifts you onto the countertop, one hand cradling the base of your skull.
He smells earthy, like the forest after rainfall, softened by leather, and there’s the unmistakable sweetness of chocolate.
“I want to kiss you. Can I?” Valko’s throat bobs, and he looks at you with pleading eyes. Amber irises turn to obsidian when meeting your gaze.
You trace his pecs with a fingertip, smirking when he shudders under your touch. A soft whine pitches from the back of his throat, and you tilt your head.
You’re not sure whether to tease him a little more or give him what he wants.
“Please.” Valko strokes the nape of your neck, softly pleading your name.
“It’s always good to throw a dog a bone now and then,” you say.
Valko snorts, inching closer to your face. “I’m not a dog.”
“Isn’t a dog a domesticated wolf?”
Valko kisses the corner of your lips and along your jawline. He chuckles. “And you think you’ve tamed this one?”
You tilt your head back and hum. Valko’s teeth scrape your throat. Each graze of his lips stokes the heat in your lower belly. He shudders when he inhales again, smelling your desire mixed in with your scent.
His fluffy tail brushes against your ankle, trailing up your thigh.
You run your fingers through his hair, playing with his wolf ears. A low growl rumbles in his chest, and he burrows deeper into your neck.
“I would say so.” You smile. He becomes no more than a big lapdog underneath your touch.
Valko’s eyes light up with mirth, and he rubs circles into your waist. “Alright, ‘Master’. What’s your command?”
“Kiss me.”
Valko’s tail thumps against his leg with an audible smack. He seals your lips with his, moving them with a hunger that threatens to devour you.
Whenever you pull away, he chases after, capturing you in another heated kiss that leaves your head spinning.
“Val—“
“I kept thinking about you,” he whispers against your lips, swallowing your next moan. “Kept waiting for my phone to buzz with a notification from you.”
You pant. The aftertaste of chocolate lingers on your tongue. “I thought your schedule was packed today with endless meetings. I didn’t want to distract you.”
Valko kisses you again, sucking and nibbling on your lips as he pulls away with a chuckle. “I like talking to you on our lunch breaks. It helps when I miss hearing your voice.”
His eyes fall to your swollen lips, and he tugs you closer to his body. You sit on the edge of the countertop, and a rigid heat presses against your crotch. Valko leans into your ear, voice low and rough. “Why don’t we—“
The oven timer cuts him off, and Valko stumbles when you shove him away. You rush to the oven and smack the power button, opening the door to release heat. With oven mitts, you remove the tray and set it on the stovetop.
“Did I just get cockblocked by an oven?”
You turn around and see Valko glaring at the kitchen appliance with his arms crossed. The whine of metal fills the room.
“Don’t you dare destroy my kitchen,” you warn him.
The noises stop.
“It’s easy to overbake these cakes—every minute counts,” you say.
While you spoon the cakes out of the pan, Valko embraces you from behind. You don’t even need to look to know he’s pouting.
“Somebody’s sulking,” you tease, leaning against his broad chest. The tent in his pants prods your lower back, and you hear a quiet hiss.
“I am grieving over our interrupted moment.”
“Still sulking~.” Your laughter drains any lingering frustration from his body. “Do you want to eat this with ice cream?”
“Are you expecting me to say no to more sugar?” Valko fetches the ice cream tub from the freezer. It’s a flavour you buy specifically for him—chocolate ice cream with dark chocolate chunks and thick fudge swirls.
You slide over a plate with a lava cake, and Valko scoops a ball of ice cream bigger than the cake itself.
“Having a little cake with your ice cream, I see,” you say.
Valko ignores your comment and cuts into the dessert with his spoon, moaning when molten chocolate oozes from the center.
You lean against the counter and watch him take a bite of everything. If this were an anime, his clothes would be flying off. Valko’s eyes remain closed in bliss, head thrown back as his tail rivals a helicopter blade. One wrong move and your bones could shatter from the impact.
“Good?” you ask.
Valko sets down his spoon, licking the chocolate from his lips. He marches over and picks you up, spinning you around the room with the biggest smile on his face. His laugh rings deep, straight from his belly, and is infectious as hell, too. He guides you in an impromptu dance in the kitchen, humming an unknown melody as he twirls you around and dips you to the ground. Amber eyes marvel at you, sparkling with warm admiration. Valko flashes his pearly canines and holds you close.
“Marry me,” he says.
Wow. Was the cake that good?
Valko’s eyes widen by a fraction, and he chokes on his spit. “Wait, I didn’t mean to say that” —he clears his throat— “I mean, I do want to ask you that eventually. But what I meant was—Mom’s gonna kill me if this becomes our proposal story.” His face turns crimson, spreading to the tips of his ears. “Can we pretend I never did this, and you wait until I properly ask for your hand in marriage?”
You don’t say a word to him, ducking out of his arms and taking a bite of his cake. It’s not overly sweet, and the rich chocolate glides over your tongue, coating your throat in sticky goodness. “Oh, my god. I would want to marry me, too, after this.”
Valko covers his face with his hands, letting out a whimper and tucking his tail between his legs.
“Awww, is somebody embarrassed?” you coo, gently prying Valko’s hands away. You cup his face, forcing him to look at you. His skin burns beneath your fingers. “For a big bad wolf, you have a surprisingly cute side.”
There’s chocolate smeared at the corner of Valko’s mouth. Out of impulse, you lick clean any trace of the sticky smudge.
Valko freezes at the contact, and you can see the metaphorical gears in his mind dysfunction.
“Val?”
He doesn’t respond, blinking blankly.
You wave your hands in front of him. But still nothing.
“That’s a shame,” you sigh, picking up the spoon. “How am I supposed to eat all these chocolate cakes by myself?”
“Did someone say chocolate?” Valko snaps his head in your direction, and his eyes widen in horror. “Nooooo! Leave my cake alone!”
You click your tongue and dodge out of the way, amused at the scene before you. Valko clutches the plate tightly to his chest. Melted ice cream pools around the small lava cake, mixing with the chocolate.
“Relax. There are still five other cakes.” You gesture to another plate with the remaining batch.
Valko grabs three cakes and adds them to his collection. “You can have the rest.”
“Gee, thanks for the consideration,” you snort. Although two is more than you were expecting. The worst-case scenario you anticipated was that he would eat the entire batch. You add a scoop of ice cream to your cakes and put the tub away in the freezer.
You walk to the living room and sink into the sofa with your plate, spooning chocolate and ice cream into your mouth. “Did you bring home any work?”
Valko sits beside you. Two of his cakes have already fallen victim to the black hole he calls his stomach. He shakes his head and smiles sweetly at you. “Nope. Tonight, I’m all yours.”
“Then I get to pick the movie,” you say.
Valko watches the screen as you navigate the streaming service. He groans at the title you input into the search bar. “Haven’t we seen this one already?”
“Yeah, but I think it’s funny.”
“You only think it’s funny because I’m a wolf.”
“There are not only wolves in this movie but blood-sucking monsters, too,” you say.
“If you wanted to see a shirtless man, you could’ve just asked me,” Valko huffs, “I’m better looking than what’s-his-name.”
“Hm. You sound jealous.” You forget to laugh when you notice there’s nothing on Valko’s plate, not even a crumb. The control nearly slips from your grasp. You’ve barely even touched your dessert.
Valko pulls you into his lap and moves your plate to the coffee table. His hands drift down your sides, rubbing your bare thighs underneath his sweater. “I propose a compromise. You put on your movie, and I get to cuddle you.” His voice lowers an octave, taking on a flirtatious tone. “Maybe we can continue from where we were interrupted earlier.”
A sticky sweet kiss marks the side of your neck.
You don’t end up paying attention to the movie.