Scent

Misunderstanding

Hot. Arthit felt hot.

He felt hands sliding everywhere over his body, feeling every inch of him and pushing him against the sink. The touch was both full of affection and lust. His mouth was taken with hungry force, his lips were parted with his tongue.

Moaning softly into the other’s mouth, Arthit’s tongue warm and wet on his, he pushed his fingers through his hair.

Though, he never wanted the kiss to end, the need for air started to dominate. The wolf unlocked his lips from his and Arthit’s breath got stuck in his throat. The look in his junior’s eyes was not simple passion. It was like something more animalistic took over, something that he usually kept hidden.

In a swift movement, the wolf’s head mowed lower, his lips began to kiss their way down his front, starting at his neck and exploring every inch of his skin down his firm body. 

A soft gasp escaped past the lynx when the other cupped his ass, pulled him closer, slightly pushing his groin against his. One of Kongpob’s hand moved to the front, slipped into his pants and touched, rubbed at his cock and… oh fuck!

Arthit woke up with a start, panting and perspiring from his dream.

Groggily he looked down and saw that he was clutching Kongpob's jacket, the one his junior had forgotten at Bright's bar.

He blinked dazedly, then suddenly screamed and threw it on the ground.
Disconsolately he looked down again and found his underpants all gummy. He stripped them off in horror, thrown them into the dirty laundry, changed them, then grabbed the jacket off the ground, and went back to bed.

He didn't know what to think, what it all meant. What he knew, was that he had just had a wet dream about a colleague of his. About a junior of his, to be precise.

The situation was getting out of hand.

What the hell was that dream supposed to mean?

That was definitely not what had happened. Maybe it might have happened, if only he hadn't brought up John's story in that ridiculous way...

No wait, luckily, he had done it. Getting blown in Bright's bar, while both their groups of friends was there, wouldn't be the best. Not that he thought Kongoob would do it. Maybe if he would had asked him… wait.

Why the hell was he thinking those sorts of things?

He threw the jacket back on the floor. It was all Kongpob's jacket fault.

After tossing about in bed for awhile he grabbed the garment back. He held it to his nose, and took a deep breath.

So, this was his supposedly mate scent?
Actually, he didn't feel anything special, or rather, it was good, but it didn't feel like the mate bond Kongpob’d described.

That night, Arthit had been leaving the bar when he happened past his jacket lying on a chair. Normally he would have ignored it, but Kongpob was his coworker, so he took it with the intention of returning it to the true owner on Monday.

However, its scent had caught his attention as soon as he’d entered his apartment, stirring something hidden deep inside, some primal instinct that he’d never felt.