Scribbles and Drabbles

Werewolf Drabble 4

This was getting old, fast. Being sling over Hunter's shoulders while the man carried him to Mitchell's den. The man didn't bother to pin him this time, one hand rested on the back of his knee like this was a reasonable thing to endure. Lincoln hid his face as best he could as the other men laughed at his predicament.

Young men were dicks. Wolves were worse, all the posturing and alpha dominance games made them downright feral. Lincoln was human and shouldn't have to deal with this. Why Mitchell thought Lincoln was safer in the frat house at the centre of the bullshit was beyond him.

Mitchell's musk surrounded him as they entered the man's bedroom, Lincoln landing on the soft bed. It smelt washed recently, even if Mitchell's scent covered it.

"One bug delivered," Adam laughed, landing on the bed next to him to kiss his cheek. Hunter grunted but equally fell onto the bed to smother Lincoln in hard muscles and hot skin. Lincoln yelled in complaint but found himself pinned and most of his clothes stripped from him, leaving him in his underwear and a t-shirt. They didn't like him being able to run off.

"There are easier ways to get me to sleep over, you know," Lincoln scowled but let them push him to the top of the bed.

"You're the one who ran off at the bell," Adam challenged, flopping in his lap.

"Thank you, Hunter, did you get his stuff?" Mitchell asked, sitting at his desk - apparently working on an assignment for the first time in Lincoln's memory. At this point, he assumed the werewolf higher-ups, whatever they were called, paid the university off, so the Alphas of a pack got a degree without the need to actually study.

Hunter nodded at the bag he'd dumped on the ground when entering the room. He patted Lincoln's shins and rolled over the bed, stretching. "Going to hit the weight room for a bit. Call me if he makes another break for it."

"I went home! I didn't make a break for it." Partly a lie - he knew they wanted him to come over tonight and wanted to avoid that after last time. They were getting too used to him sleeping in Mitchell's bed. He was pretty sure no one was going to push the issue but waking up with someone's morning wood pressing against his back wasn't a way he wanted to wake up - unless it was his partner.

"Not a home," Adam muttered, arm tightened around Lincoln's waist. "The Grange is bad enough, but your room is an empty husk. Much better for you to relocate somewhere better."

Lincoln frowned down at Adam. The wolves were always more touchy, but Adam didn't normally hang off him from the moment he landed. Something in his tone as well. Lincoln settled and combed the man's hair with his fingers. Adam melted against him. Mitchell watched them before turning back to his essay.