While the house is being renovated...
Tamas moved quickly towards the park. It felt like running away and that terrified him but Jason had given his blessing so that made it okay. He couldn’t be near the house right now. It hurt too much. He couldn’t explain it, not to any of them. They didn’t feel it the way he did. The house was a part of him, an extension of his senses.
He hurried to the deepest places of the forest within the park, going further and deeper than he’d ever gone before. He should have gone to Hawke or Wing or Flame or any of his friends but he needed to be alone.
Alone in his own head.
That wasn’t an easy thing for him - his gifts left him open and raw to everything around him. To Connor’s fretfulness, to Tim’s worry, to Dick’s watchful protectiveness, to Jason’s inner struggle. Max’s exhaustion, Melanie’s nervous joy, Dick’s hopeful daydreams of the child to come and his own mate’s love and need and hope and troubles.
But Jason’s thoughts never pressed on him the way the others’ did when he weakened. Jason was a part of him; his heart and soul. His wolf and his moon.
But right now, the Pack and the renovation efforts needed Jason, and Tamas needed solitude to deal with it.
He ran the way he ran under the moon, feeling the soil under his feet and the green in his blood. The heartbeat of the earth led him to the place - a hollow no bigger than the bed he shares with Jason. He fell, gratefully into the deep grass, soft against his skin. And suddenly his clothes were too scratchy and close to bear. He shed them slowly, making a ritual of folding and setting them aside before laying back, feeling the touch of nature on his body.
He closed his eyes and let the Green flow into him. It was dangerous to find Harmony alone. He had done it several times but always with Hawke watching over him, ready to with a touch of the hand or a gentle whisper to remind him to be human. Too deep into Harmony and he could forget himself, forget to breathe, forget the body that sustained him. But here in the deep wood, with no-one’s thoughts but his own, he felt easier, more open. It didn’t feel so risky here.
He ran his fingers through the thick grass, feeling it quicken and move to his touch. His gifts had been so off kilter lately but here, so far from the pressures of the city and all the pressing minds, he felt his worries wash away. Slowly, gently, like a kiss, he pulled the green to him, feeling the forest answer. Vine soft as velvet creep across his skin, caressing, touching, finding the places that made Tamas sigh. His mind went back to day in the courtyard garden, when Jason found him with the passion vine around his wrists and without thought they come to him, binding and holding him.
Tamas felt himself quicken, closing his eyes and imagined Jason’s face - his eyes flashing yellow under the moon, flushed with desire. A moan fell from Tamas’ lips as the vines pulled tighter, stretching his arms wider as other vines work their way over his chest. He writhed to the rhythm of his own blood, feeling it pound in his veins as the vines brush against the tips of his nipples, teasing them to hardness.
He imagined Jason finding him like this, stretched out and ready. He gasped, not realising he’d drawn more vines closer. Not until they coil around his thighs, spreading him open. The first touch of the velvet vines against his cock made him spasm all over, leaking against his stomach.
“Jason....” His mate’s name fell from his lips like a prayer, wrapping himself in the love and strength of their union. “Jason...”
Another vine touched him lower as those around his cock started to stroke and move, milking the pleasure from him. Tiny shoots entered him, lighting sparks of sensation that flicker like fireflies through his body. Bound and open, Tamas’ soft cries of desire filled the air. It should have felt like cheating but in his mind, in his heart, Jason was always with him. The shoots inside him budded to life, pressing against the tender places within him and he arched against those that held him in place. The duel pleasures of control and being controlled made Tamas writhe as the fall came over him. All around the little grove, flowers burst to bloom and swelled to fruit as Tamas howled at the moon, his seed spilling on skin and soil alike.
The vines fell back as Tamas lay panting on the grass; his skin alight with the glow only pleasure gave him. He curled himself under a blanket of leaves, aware of every part of his body in the lethargy of the little death. Tomorrow he would make his way back to the house and his love to check on their progress but tonight the moon would watch over him as he slept with nothing in his head but himself.