Page 32 of Sanctuary
“I didn’t walk much,” Ori promised him. “Just enough to start this, I promise.” He’d washed too, though he hadn’t told Patton that. He planned to wash Patton as well, while their meal was cooking. It was only after he’d cleaned himself up that he’d realized how rank he was from walking and sweating and only seeing water to drink. Patton wouldn’t be any better. “Sit down, I’m just going to make some soup.” Actually, the vegetables were already simmering away in their cheap little frying pan, and he’d been chipping a piece of jerky into small bits to add to the mix. Quickly, he scooped the meat chunks into the water and gave them a stir with the blade of the knife he’d been using. “There. That should sit for a while. And, in the meantime—” He reached behind himself and brought out the pot, still a third full of water and still just a little warmer than body temperature. “Clothes off. I’ve had a wash, now it’s your turn.”
Patton burst out laughing. “Ori, sometimes you are such an omega.”
“Yeah, I know. And I know it’s a waste of water, but can you smell that? In the air?” The air held a clean chill and a smell of dampness, much nicer than the sour smell of their sweaty clothing.
Patton nodded. “Might be fixin’ to rain tonight.” He curled his legs and sat cross-legged beside Ori, leaning over to kiss his cheek, not nearly as shy as he’d been up until today. Maybe the weirdness of the situation was wearing off? Ori hoped so.
“I thought we could clean up and then catch more water in the pot if it does.” Ori grimaced. “If it doesn’t, well, it’s not that much water.”
“And you were tired of being dirty,” Patton said. His voice sounded fond, not upset, which was a relief. “I’ll have to walk in to fill the jugs day after tomorrow anyway. I can wash myself though.”
It wasn’t often that Ori pulled out an omega trick on Patton, maybe never, but rather than say anything, he just lowered his eyelids and peered up at Patton from underneath them, a small smile on his lips. And bless him, it only took his new mate a few moments to catch the hint. The expression on his face, though, was one Ori was going to remember for a lifetime. He waited a moment as the stunned look on Patton’s face faded into disconcerted curiosity, then added, “But where’s the entertainment in that,” and leaned in for a kiss. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
Patton gulped. “Okay.”
Ori hid a smirk at Patton’s strangled tone. “Then get undressed.” He’d laid their blankets out ready, their one sheet of plastic—a garbage bag that Ori had carefully cut the edges of—spread over the branches above their den to keep them dry in case it did rain. Not that he thought he’d mind some rain —he still didn’t feel entirely clean.
Ori laid out their little cake of soap and the rag he’d used to wash himself and turned back to Patton. His Ma must have taught him to look after his clothes, because even though his t-shirt was dirty and stained, he still folded it carefully and set it aside on top of a nearby rock where it wouldn’t get dirtier. It was ridiculous that this tiny habit of Patton’s pleased him so much, when he had the breadth of Patton’s chest and the muscle rounding his shoulders to look at and, soon, to touch. But maybe that was why omegas were said to be illogical and hard to understand—they didn’t appreciate things that other shifters did.
Though right now he was sure appreciating the hell out of Patton’s arms, and he suspected anyone else would appreciate them too.
And then Patton stood up and Ori almost forgot that he was supposed to be getting ready to romantically clean his mate up so they could get all sweaty and messy again. Not like it was the first time he’d ever seen Patton naked—shifters weren’t known for their modesty. Even the tent for the omegas to change shape in on full moon was more about protecting them and saving them exclusively for their mate. Seeing Patton tonight, on this mini-honeymoon, was like seeing him with new eyes, like he was someone Ori had never known. No, not that, but that Ori was seeing things he’d never noticed before. He’d always liked Patton because Patton treated him like an equal, was a ferocious participant in their games, and was as curious about the world as Ori was. He was a friend that Ori had always been able to trust his inner self to.
But tonight…Ori wanted him, and it was a little frightening how deep that feeling went. It felt almost sacrilegious, this lustful desire for the boy-turned-man who had played pirates and cowboys and cops and robbers with him as a child. If he looked hard enough, he thought he could still see the boy, and the teenager who’d so trustingly brought him those pheasants, all pieces of the man now who’d given up everything, to give Ori a future of possibility. It was still Patton, but it was Patton the grown-up, the mated wolf, that he was seeing now, like he'd somehow grown bigger to be able to take on the responsibility of Ori and of Ori's future pups. "Holy shit, I love you," Ori said impulsively.
His words made Patton stop with his jeans down about his thighs. "That's a good thing, right? You're supposed to love your mate."
"Yeah, but it's not just like a mate," Ori babbled. How much did Patton know about how omega worked? For that matter, very little about omega seemed to be working the way he'd been told it would, from even before he and Patton had snuck out of the enclave and embarked on this clandestine and definitely not approved mating. Ori took a deep breath and looked up to see Patton watching him with those dark eyes, still as full of the faith and belief in Ori that they'd always been. "I mean, it's you, it's always been you." Ori paused, then continued at a slower, more thoughtful pace. "I think I'm just starting to see it now. I don't think I ever would have been happy with anyone else."
Patton reached down and pulled Ori to his feet. “Good, then I don’t have to feel bad about shanghaiing you out of the pack so I could keep you to myself.” He rubbed his cheek against Ori’s and wobbled, stumbling into Ori as he lost his balance. “Sorry! Trying to get my feet out of my pants. It’s harder than it looks.” His sheepish grin and the light of laughter in his eyes made Ori laugh out loud himself.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, mate,” Ori purred and dropped a clean rag in the pot.
C H A P T E R T H I R T Y - O N E
O ri took his time with Patton’s body. He really did mean to wash him, figuring that it would feel just as good to Patton as it had to himself. This is nice. Patton, his cheeks a little pink in the fading sunlight, stood straight and quiet at the edge of their blankets, his eyes following every move Ori made. It sent shivery tingles running over Ori's skin, and he was certain he saw Patton smirk at least once when Ori couldn't stop a shudder of desire that ran over his body. He didn't mind--Patton was enjoying the experience, and Ori discovered that anything that made Patton happy was also something that made him happy. So, as he moved the soapy cloth down Patton's body, he didn't bother trying to hide his new-found appreciation for his mate's form, like he would have if he was home in the enclave where an omega was supposed to be quiet and demure and wait for their mate to make the first move.
He took his time, exploring Patton's body, learning it in ways that he hadn't been able to during the white-hot lusts of their nights together. Patton turned and bent and moved, quietly following Ori's murmured instructions. He was very obviously aroused by Ori's attention, but he made no move, no advances, nothing that would spoil this tender, romantic moment. Ori stepped around to wash Patton's back, his hand gliding soap-slick over the bands of muscle. Patton sighed and his head drooped. "That feels good," he muttered, his voice thick with a bone-deep relaxation. Ori kissed the nape of his neck, tasting soap and a hint of sweat and Patton beneath it. "I'll rub your back some more once you've rinsed," he promised, his heart filling up with warmth at his ability to provide this small comfort for Patton.
“You aren’t tired?”
“Not too tired for that.” Ori leaned forward and carefully slid his arms around Patton’s ribcage, spreading his hands flat against the planes of his chest. “I like making you happy. It’s an omega thing.”
“Not just omega,” Patton mumbled, his voice only slightly more alert now. “I like to see you happy too.”
“This makes me happy,” Ori told him, only slightly louder than a whisper. “You make me happy.”
Patton turned around and put one hand on Ori’s waist, the other flat against his lower belly. “This makes me happy too. Scares the shit out of me, but it’s a happy scared.” He smiled, and Ori could smell his nervousness in the air, even above the smell of the soap. “I just thought I should make that clear. Don’t know if I did a good enough job before.”
Ori raised a hand to trace the solid jaw before him, so very Patton. “You did, but thank you.” He leaned in to kiss his mate, the sire of his child—and that thought send a weird thrill through him—and then reached for the water and soap again. As he worked his way over the rest of Patton’s body, going slow to do a good job and to take advantage of this opportunity to truly learn Patton’s body in a way that playing pirates or running together on full moon had never offered. Small scars he’d never known about raised themselves above the slickness of his skin, hinting at stories Ori had never heard.
One particularly long one looked new. “What happened here?” Ori asked, running his fingers down the ragged line that neatly bisected the length of Patton’s right calf.
“Slipped and landed on a bent sheet of steel tearing down the old water shed,” Patton said, twisting to peer over his shoulder at Ori. “Last year, during the monsoon.”
“I never knew.” Ori touched it again. “Does it still hurt?” It didn’t look entirely healed, the raised part still pinker than the skin around it.
“Mostly numb.”
