Moving Forward

Cereal (20)

Max woke wrapped up in Kyle's warm embrace, internal body clock telling him it was somewhere after 11am. This was... definitely something he was becoming accustomed to. Not that he was complaining. Kyle's arms were... strong. Firm.

Luke hadn't been this strong. And there was nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong with knowing that in a situation, Max could protect his man.

But Kyle... Kyle's arms said they would protect him. Fight by his side. Watch his six. Max didn't have to protect Kyle from the dangers of being a shifter, but nothing would make him happier than knowing
he could keep his mate safe.

Max nuzzled his face further into his man's chest, inhaling with a happy hum. Kyle hadn't woken up yet, but Max could change that. His hands, already firm on Kyle's muscles, slid around to the man's back. And then slowly down. Up, under the hem of Kyle's shirt, and then in circles, all whilst Max pressed kisses and nipped at Kyle's chest.

Kyle moaned, voice rough with sleep. "Max..."

Unable to help the temptation to bare his canines, Max grinned and nipped a little harder at that smooth skin. He lapped at the tiniest bead of blood that welled up, trying his utmost to draw this moment out.

But he was yanked out of that airy moment as Kyle hoisted him up to meet his lips. The kiss began as something gentle, tentative; almost a question, although not one left hanging for long. Hunger for the other hit them, pushed them closer together, cried out to be sated and fed. Max's tongue pushed into Kyle's mouth, ignoring the very real danger of those sharpened canines and tasting blood for his carelessness.

"Sorry," Kyle managed.

"Don't care," Max growled, voice equally as breathy, and letting his own teeth graze lightly against Kyle's swollen mouth.

Kyle's hands tightened on Max's thighs, while Max groaned and tugged on Kyle's short hair. That elicited a growl from Kyle, who pushed Max onto his back. Max gasped, whined, and nipped Kyle's ear. Kyle kissed Max's cheekbone, his jaw, his neck. And then he sunk his teeth in.

Max sighed, an odd wave of pleasure rushing through him, and then let out growly hum.

With a tug, he pulled Kyle away from his new puncture marks, and up to his lips, tasting blood for the second time that morning, and still not bothered in the slightest. And as the minutes went on, they neither burned up nor cooled down.

And then, in the silence of the morning, Max's stomach rumbled.

The pair pulled apart, both caught of guard, but seconds later, Kyle's stomach rumbled right back. Kyle snicker and pulled back, taking Max with him.

"So..." Kyle hummed. "What's for breakfast?"

Max shrugged, doing his best not to glance at his mate. "Cereal."

Kyle wrapped him up from behind. "Aw, come on Kitten... gimme something good ta eat." He growled, words slow and deliberate.

Nope. No way. Max was not going to let Kyle win this one, especially not with the lingering arousal. "You better get cooking then."

With another growl, Kyle nipped Max's ear and sharply let go. "I'm not eating cereal." He muttered with a frown as he moved to the kitchen.

Max couldn't help the amusement that seeing Kyle in a mood caused. He was horny and hungry, same as Kyle, but seeing Kyle sulk about both lifted Max's own mood slightly. So he sat on the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room to watch his boyfriend cook.

Kyle snorted on seeing him jump up. "You're fuckin' weird Kitten." He moped.

"You know you enjoy it." Max smirked.

Neither agreeing, nor disagreeing, Kyle grunted and moved around the kitchen, searching through cupboards and picking through the fridge. Max just liked to watch him. Liked to see Kyle's almost clumsy movements, liked to watch him get frustrated silently, liked how he huffed when he was trying to figure out how to use the stove. He'd occasionally mutter to himself, but all Max could hear was how delighted Kyle was to be cooking for his mate.

"My dick was not expecting to be cooking." He griped.

Max smirked. "I told you we have cereal."

Kyle snarled. "Say that again."

"We. Have. Cereal."

To Max's surprise, Kyle just grinned. "It's 'we' now, is it?"

"You. Me." Max shrugged. "We're a 'we'." He dropped his crossed legs off the edge of the counter and leant forward. "My cereal is your cereal."

"Is that so?"

Max just smiled at him. His ears were heating up, having just realised how cheesy that line was. The smile quickly dropped, as did Max's head into his hands. Kyle's laughter did nothing to abate the flush crawling up his face.

"Shut up." Max muttered.

It only made Kyle laugh louder, but eventually it abated and all that was left in the silence was the sweet smell of blueberry pancakes. Even when they were eating, neither man said a word, apart from Max's occasional hum of appreciation. There was nothing to be said. Not really. Not in the still morning with the sun pouring through the large windows and the wind coming in through the open glass doors on the back porch.

Open doors.

That couldn't be right. Last night, Max shut that door. Like he did every night. There shouldn't be a breeze.

It was then the scent hit him.

"Don't move." Max hissed.

Kyle's brows shot up in confusion, and then dropped right back down. He wasn't happy with this sudden urgency at 11am, but Max didn't care. He knew that scent, who it belonged to.

And so he did what any jaguar would do: he found a high point.

Sitting on the roof, he kept his body low, imaginary tail twitching in anticipation of excitement.

A dark head of hair passed under roof, and without a second of hesitation, Max leapt down, catching the trespasser with a heavy thud.

He yelled angrily, growled out his displeasure. And then, when Max wouldn't let go, despite being pinned, he began to laugh.

"Meu filho!" He laughed. "You caught me!"

Max let go and gave a disapproving growl. "What are you doing here?"

"Filho," Blake whined. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

He snorted. "Of course I'm happy." He shrugged, leading the way back inside. "I just didn't know you were coming."

Inside, Kyle was still sat at the table, an empty plate of pancakes in front of him. Max chuffed, amused.

"Who's this?" Kyle prompted.

"Blake, this is Kyle. Kyle, this is my dad, Blake Waters."