MandC: Through Beady Eyes
Title: Through Beady Eyes
Author: thedeepeekay
Fandom: MandC
Pairing, Characters: Jack/Stephen, the sloth
Rating: R
Spoilers: HMS Surprise
Disclaimer: Not mine, never has been, never will be.
Length: 2921 words
Status: Complete
Summary: Prompt: Jack/Stephen, with the sloth watching - added request: as observed by the sloth... In its own words.
Author's Note: Written for the Aubreyad Kink Meme. My first smut fic. *waves another shred of her innocence good-bye*
As always, not beta'd.
Written: February 2009
Crossposted to / originally posted at: The original thread at the Aubreyad Kink Meme, here.
"I am sorry, Stephen."
He tried to let his feelings shine through the words, his remorse, his regret, the repentance born the moment Stephen had turned from him after discovering his bribing of the sloth. The pain of feeling the doctor's glare, both infuriated and impassive, so uniquely Stephen, bore into his very soul whenever he sought his friend's eyes, the barb of his quick, sharp tongue whenever he deigned to speak to him at all, it had become unbearable.
"I truly am."
At his imploring tone, Stephen raised his head, looking up from the sloth he was holding in his arms gently (and how Jack longed to be in its place). "Sorry? Pray tell, what for?"
Wasn't it obvious? Worried what Stephen was alluding to, Jack hesitatingly opened his mouth, but was prevented from answering by more coldly-spoken questions.
"Sorry you inebriated my sloth, making him sick, possibly causing him not yet discernable damages by feeding grog to a creature whose digestive tract is not apt for it? Or sorry for the disruption of harmony this has brought upon you?"
The hold of Stephen's eyes was more unyielding, more unforgiving than that of his arms could ever be, demanding an answer, daring him to respond. Warning him to not choose the wrong answer.
Now if only Jack knew which the right one was.
"Sorry to have caused you pain."
As soon as the words had left his mouth, he winced. His usual quick wit had abandoned him, and instead of an eloquent, poignant speech explaining that he had not meant any harm to Stephen's pet, had merely wished to make it more comfortable and put it at ease, and deeply regretted the consequences his well-intentioned actions had had, he had blurted out the first thought that crossed his mind. With a sigh, he turned to leave the cabin.
"Jack." The tenderness was at odds with Stephen's croaking voice, but Jack didn't mind. Instead he tilted his head, trying to quell the hope and longing growing in his chest - and found himself leaning into the touch of a gentle hand on his cheek.
"Apology accepted."
How a face such as Stephen's could create a smile more beautifully than any other Jack would never understand. Nuzzling into the warm palm though, taking a shaking breath and feeling his heart rejoice at the familiar scent, he found he didn't need to know how, it was enough that it happened. His eyes fluttering closed, he took a step towards the other man, reaching up to for his part cup that beloved face and lean down to savour the sweet taste he had so missed.
And encountered a hairy arm lying around Stephen's neck.
His eyes shot open, and perplexedly he looked into the eyes of the sloth, the very being at the centre of the last days' sorrow, still clinging to Stephen and being safely held with one arm, whose presence had slipped his mind the second he had felt the touch of Stephen's hand, and whose beady black eyes were clearly looking at him with renewed disapproval. He swallowed.
Stephen's free hand trailed down his face, down his neck, and wound its fingers into the folds of Jack's shirt, tucking softly, but insistently.
"Will you not come to bed with me, joy?"
Jack's breath hitched as that hand slipped under his shirt, splayed over his chest, ghosted over his skin, teased his nipples. As Stephen took several steps back, towards the cot, Jack couldn't help but follow, like a compass needle unable to resist the pull of the Northern pole's gravity, the attraction that defined it, was its reason for being.
"Stephen…"
"Yes, joy?"
They reached the cot, Stephen sitting down on it, drawing Jack closer to stand between his legs. Closer to the animal still wrapped around him, watching Jack with its bottomless dark eyes, the way Stephen would watch one of his specimen.
"The sloth."
A mischievous gleam appeared in the other man's eyes.
"Oh, I might be persuaded to put him down."
"It is looking at me." And its non-blinking, fathomless staring unsettled him, but he did not want to admit that out loud. Especially not when that hand was still doing its best to draw him in and distract him, and something was making needy little noises, but it couldn't be the sloth, it was still just staring at Jack motionlessly when he went to shot it a smug look.
"All you had to do was ask, brother."
Ask? Ask what? He had asked Stephen's forgiveness, hadn't he? And Stephen had smiled, and touched him, and he had thought they would. But now Stephen was withdrawing his hand, put it around that animal instead, even had the audacity to smirk at him, and where did that pathetic mewling come from?
"Oh, do not look at me like that. See, I am putting him down."
Stephen did indeed pull the sloth away from him, disentangling its arms from around his neck while it tried to hold onto the warmth and protection, ignoring the way its face crunched up pleadingly.
But Jack did not care, it didn't look at him anymore, Stephen was straightening up again, reaching for him with both hands now, and Jack let himself be drawn in, drawn down, onto the cot, until his body lay flush against Stephen's and he could feel the other man's heat and the rapid beating of his heart even through both their clothes Stephen's hands were tucking on his shirt now, pulling it up and, as Jack sat up, over his head, and went to work on his breeches while Jack still fought to free his hands from the sleeves.
Throwing the shirt to the side, he caught sight of the sloth, once again staring at him, but before its glare registered he was pulled back into a frenzy of quickened breath and tingling nerves as Stephen pulled his breeches down to his knees.
Climbing out of the garment, he stopped to take in the sight of Stephen lying under him, flushed, breathing hard, and still, frustratingly, fully clothed. Hungrily he leaned down to devour the smaller man's mouth in a fevered kiss, only easing up breathlessly to pull Stephen's shirt over his head in one smooth, forceful move, and then diving back down to resume his attack. He revelled in the familiar taste, the wet warmth, and took a moment to hum contentedly into the other man's mouth. He nibbled at Stephen's gleaming, swollen lips, rubbed the sensitive skin of his cheek against his coarsely stubbled one, enjoying the burn of it, peppered a trail of kisses down his neck, lapping at the hollow of his throat. Stephen pulled at him weakly, his hands moving from grasping at Jack's arms to roaming over his sweat-slicked chest, he moaned and bucked his hips, reminding both of them of the breeches he was still wearing. Jack's hands went to remove them, frantically tucking, pushing and pulling at them, Stephen wriggling under him, while he lapped and sucked at first one, then the other of Stephen's nipples, the hands in his hair clenching and unclenching in time with Stephen's rapid breathing.
Finally he reached down to completely pull the breeches off, then slid back up to cover Stephen's body with his, sweat-slick skin against sweat-slick skin, their pricks aligned as if this position came to them naturally, the touch letting starts dance in front of his eyes. His mouth found Stephen's again, this time to be invaded by the other's tongue, as they desperately rubbed against each other. Moments later orgasm rushed through Stephen's body, his hips bucking up, hot liquid spurting over their stomachs as he screamed into the kiss, letting it swallow the sound, and the movements of the other man first tensing, then spasming under him, next to him, had Jack follow him instantly, liberally adding to the sticky mess between their bodies, shaking as his climax ran through him, groaning against trembling lips.
He collapsed over Stephen's now limp body, nearly crushing him, but not caring, same as neither man cared about the wet sheet bunched up in folds around them or the cooling sweat glistening on their skin. Both just lay there, basking in the afterglow, savouring the familiar feel of each other's skin and the comfort of each other's company they had missed for too many days.
On the floor next to them, the sloth still glared disapprovingly, forgotten by both of them.
~~~
For the most part, he had accepted the quirks of his new territory and its co-inhabitants. It was extraordinarily crowded, even though he was the only one of his species in its boundaries, as was the Lone One. There were many and many of the Fast Ones, though. But despite that overpopulation there was enough food for everyone, though where it grew he did not know. The trees on the island were dead, as were the lianas, even the ground lacked any vegetation.
Sometimes he wondered if that was why the Fast Ones always rushed around like that, but surely by now they must have realised that there simply were no leaves, and moving so hurriedly only tired them and drew unnecessary attention to them. Though he had yet to see any predators, too. Probably there weren't any, otherwise the Fast Ones never would have been able to multiply into such large a number. And, most outrageous, they seemed to live in a pack. Who ever heard of that? A pack, with a hierarchy, and an Alpha. Strange creatures. At least they seemed decent climbers and, as far as he could tell, swimmers; since there were no rivers on the island, they hardly fell into the water.
The Lone One clearly was not of their kind. Its behaviour was as eccentric as theirs, but in a different way. Like the sloth, it did not move around too quickly and spent a lot of time sitting in one place quietly, and it also was better at camouflaging than the Fast Ones, having dirt colour its fur. The algae growing in every sloth's fur and colouring it jungle-green had yet to develop, the air on the island was humid, but for algae to sprout it’d probably have to fall into the water more often. It did have beetles and the like living in its fur, though, turning it from prey into part of the jungle. Strangely it did spend a recklessly large amount of time on the ground. If any predators came to the island, it would be an easy victim despite its attempts to not draw attention.
They all slept in caves underground instead of safely up in the trees, and were all of them horribly noisy. Loudest of them was, paradoxically, Alpha. Maybe their subspecies saw loud and frequent local utterance as a sign of strength? Staying alive while constantly chattering and alerting any hungry carnivore in the area did hint at considerable strength.
The sloth suspected the Alpha was trying to mate with the Lone One. That would explain why it had been accepted into the pack, even though it clearly was not one of the Fast Ones. And, while the thought of crossbreeding made his mind twitch, a Young One of the Lone One and the Alpha could have the Alpha’s skill at climbing and swimming, and the Lone One’s good sense of being quiet, blending in and moving only when necessary. Or it could be conspicuous and physically inapt, if at all viable, and then the Alpha might chase the Lone One off the island. And all this courting did draw a lot attention to the Lone One, negating its efforts to hide safely.
The mating theory would also explain why, when the Lone One brought the sloth to the island, the Alpha first reacted so defensively. It considered him a rival. He was not interested in mating with the Lone One, of course, but he was fond of it, the way one would be fond of a retarded Young One. Which was why he did not approve of the Alpha’s attempts to get the Lone One to mate. But, he figured, since the Lone One never climbed up, into the safety of the trees, it would probably never mate. Surely not even the loud, brash Alpha would consider mating on the ground, where everything could sneak up on them.
When the Alpha first turned its attention to the sloth, he was revolted. No decent sloth would ever mate out of their species! How could it think he’d even consider that? How disgusting!
Then he reconsidered. Not the offer, never that, but his reaction. If the Alpha was courting him, then it wouldn’t bother the Lone One.
So he played nice for a while. And really, the Alpha may be obnoxious, but it was trying. It was even finding him water tasting like fermented fruit, a treat he wouldn’t usually indulge in, for fear of falling off a tree and thus prey to some carnivore or the other, but the island seemed safe enough. And, curled up on the ground, he’d still look like some brush of greenery, and any predator would walk right past him to feast on the Loud Ones.
That state of affairs did not last long, though, and soon enough the Alpha was back to courting the Lone One. It did seem rather displeased with the Alpha’s fickleness, though, and ignored it or hissed at it. Maybe its species mated for life, then of course it would not consider the Alpha as a partner anymore, after it had proven to be so unreliable.
The Alpha’s change in tactics at this was baffling. Instead of trying even harder to impress its desired mate and prove its virility, it acted clearly submissive towards the Lone One. Granted, only when none of the other Loud Ones were around, so he assumed it hadn’t given up its status as Alpha, but still. Didn’t pack animals always abide by their hierarchy, once established?
It made no sense.
Except evidently to the Lone One.
Because after another one of the Alpha’s submissions, the three of them were in their underground cave, while it was grooming the sloth, it suddenly sprang into action and in turn approached the Alpha now. It crooned at it and groomed it in a way that showed it did wish to couple. Maybe the Lone One had never met others of its kind and thought itself to be one of the Loud Ones. Why else would it reciprocate the Alpha’s intentions?
He glared at the Alpha, clinging possessively to the Lone One. The poor thing probably had no idea what it was doing, so the Alpha would be taking advantage of it. He laid an arm around its neck. It did not need to turn to the Loud One for comfort and warmth.
The Alpha did seem discouraged, but then the Lone One started to pull it towards the recklessly low nest in their shared cave. Of course Alpha followed.
They did not mean to mate that close to the ground, did they? Mating at all would be foolish, cross-breeding and that, but here, virtually on the ground? No animal could be that suicidal!
…Then again, he could be wrong. The Lone One was climbing into the nest, encouraging the Alpha to join.
It better not dare. Either it considered the Lone One one of its pack, in which case it should have its best interest at heart, and mating that close to the ground, in a nest easily accessible by any hungry predator, was not it. Or it did saw the Lone One as apart from the pack and wanted to submit it in this roundabout way, turning the Lone One from an animal outside the pack’s hierarchy to the lowest one in the pecking order.
No, the best for all involved would be to the status quo.
He held on to the Lone One, and glared at the Alpha some more. It always got what it wanted? Well, not this time! Neither he nor the Lone One were part of its pack. And its begging wouldn’t help, either.
And then the Lone One put him onto the ground.
That. It. He’d never been anything but a friend to it, and it disregarded his advice to mate? On the ground? With an animal displaying virtually no survival skills at all? How could it do that? Did it not realize what a mistake this was? He looked at it imploringly, willing it to understand.
Evidently it did not.
Both the Alpha and the Lone One had climbed into the nest now, and - were shedding their fur? What kind of animals did they think they were, snakes?
What was all that rubbing and licking, scent-marking? Oh, he had been right, this was only about submission and laying claim!
And that position? They’d never mate properly like that! How did they think they would - really, facing each other? No matter what species they were, it did not work that way! Things just didn’t fit like that, no matter how much they moved around. They were smelling of each other more than sufficiently by now, and if this was to work it was high time one of them turn around already and - too late.
One didn’t blend in, the other couldn’t climb, and both of them could not mate?
Well, at least there’d be no crossbred Young Ones.
Author: thedeepeekay
Fandom: MandC
Pairing, Characters: Jack/Stephen, the sloth
Rating: R
Spoilers: HMS Surprise
Disclaimer: Not mine, never has been, never will be.
Length: 2921 words
Status: Complete
Summary: Prompt: Jack/Stephen, with the sloth watching - added request: as observed by the sloth... In its own words.
Author's Note: Written for the Aubreyad Kink Meme. My first smut fic. *waves another shred of her innocence good-bye*
As always, not beta'd.
Written: February 2009
Crossposted to / originally posted at: The original thread at the Aubreyad Kink Meme, here.
"I am sorry, Stephen."
He tried to let his feelings shine through the words, his remorse, his regret, the repentance born the moment Stephen had turned from him after discovering his bribing of the sloth. The pain of feeling the doctor's glare, both infuriated and impassive, so uniquely Stephen, bore into his very soul whenever he sought his friend's eyes, the barb of his quick, sharp tongue whenever he deigned to speak to him at all, it had become unbearable.
"I truly am."
At his imploring tone, Stephen raised his head, looking up from the sloth he was holding in his arms gently (and how Jack longed to be in its place). "Sorry? Pray tell, what for?"
Wasn't it obvious? Worried what Stephen was alluding to, Jack hesitatingly opened his mouth, but was prevented from answering by more coldly-spoken questions.
"Sorry you inebriated my sloth, making him sick, possibly causing him not yet discernable damages by feeding grog to a creature whose digestive tract is not apt for it? Or sorry for the disruption of harmony this has brought upon you?"
The hold of Stephen's eyes was more unyielding, more unforgiving than that of his arms could ever be, demanding an answer, daring him to respond. Warning him to not choose the wrong answer.
Now if only Jack knew which the right one was.
"Sorry to have caused you pain."
As soon as the words had left his mouth, he winced. His usual quick wit had abandoned him, and instead of an eloquent, poignant speech explaining that he had not meant any harm to Stephen's pet, had merely wished to make it more comfortable and put it at ease, and deeply regretted the consequences his well-intentioned actions had had, he had blurted out the first thought that crossed his mind. With a sigh, he turned to leave the cabin.
"Jack." The tenderness was at odds with Stephen's croaking voice, but Jack didn't mind. Instead he tilted his head, trying to quell the hope and longing growing in his chest - and found himself leaning into the touch of a gentle hand on his cheek.
"Apology accepted."
How a face such as Stephen's could create a smile more beautifully than any other Jack would never understand. Nuzzling into the warm palm though, taking a shaking breath and feeling his heart rejoice at the familiar scent, he found he didn't need to know how, it was enough that it happened. His eyes fluttering closed, he took a step towards the other man, reaching up to for his part cup that beloved face and lean down to savour the sweet taste he had so missed.
And encountered a hairy arm lying around Stephen's neck.
His eyes shot open, and perplexedly he looked into the eyes of the sloth, the very being at the centre of the last days' sorrow, still clinging to Stephen and being safely held with one arm, whose presence had slipped his mind the second he had felt the touch of Stephen's hand, and whose beady black eyes were clearly looking at him with renewed disapproval. He swallowed.
Stephen's free hand trailed down his face, down his neck, and wound its fingers into the folds of Jack's shirt, tucking softly, but insistently.
"Will you not come to bed with me, joy?"
Jack's breath hitched as that hand slipped under his shirt, splayed over his chest, ghosted over his skin, teased his nipples. As Stephen took several steps back, towards the cot, Jack couldn't help but follow, like a compass needle unable to resist the pull of the Northern pole's gravity, the attraction that defined it, was its reason for being.
"Stephen…"
"Yes, joy?"
They reached the cot, Stephen sitting down on it, drawing Jack closer to stand between his legs. Closer to the animal still wrapped around him, watching Jack with its bottomless dark eyes, the way Stephen would watch one of his specimen.
"The sloth."
A mischievous gleam appeared in the other man's eyes.
"Oh, I might be persuaded to put him down."
"It is looking at me." And its non-blinking, fathomless staring unsettled him, but he did not want to admit that out loud. Especially not when that hand was still doing its best to draw him in and distract him, and something was making needy little noises, but it couldn't be the sloth, it was still just staring at Jack motionlessly when he went to shot it a smug look.
"All you had to do was ask, brother."
Ask? Ask what? He had asked Stephen's forgiveness, hadn't he? And Stephen had smiled, and touched him, and he had thought they would. But now Stephen was withdrawing his hand, put it around that animal instead, even had the audacity to smirk at him, and where did that pathetic mewling come from?
"Oh, do not look at me like that. See, I am putting him down."
Stephen did indeed pull the sloth away from him, disentangling its arms from around his neck while it tried to hold onto the warmth and protection, ignoring the way its face crunched up pleadingly.
But Jack did not care, it didn't look at him anymore, Stephen was straightening up again, reaching for him with both hands now, and Jack let himself be drawn in, drawn down, onto the cot, until his body lay flush against Stephen's and he could feel the other man's heat and the rapid beating of his heart even through both their clothes Stephen's hands were tucking on his shirt now, pulling it up and, as Jack sat up, over his head, and went to work on his breeches while Jack still fought to free his hands from the sleeves.
Throwing the shirt to the side, he caught sight of the sloth, once again staring at him, but before its glare registered he was pulled back into a frenzy of quickened breath and tingling nerves as Stephen pulled his breeches down to his knees.
Climbing out of the garment, he stopped to take in the sight of Stephen lying under him, flushed, breathing hard, and still, frustratingly, fully clothed. Hungrily he leaned down to devour the smaller man's mouth in a fevered kiss, only easing up breathlessly to pull Stephen's shirt over his head in one smooth, forceful move, and then diving back down to resume his attack. He revelled in the familiar taste, the wet warmth, and took a moment to hum contentedly into the other man's mouth. He nibbled at Stephen's gleaming, swollen lips, rubbed the sensitive skin of his cheek against his coarsely stubbled one, enjoying the burn of it, peppered a trail of kisses down his neck, lapping at the hollow of his throat. Stephen pulled at him weakly, his hands moving from grasping at Jack's arms to roaming over his sweat-slicked chest, he moaned and bucked his hips, reminding both of them of the breeches he was still wearing. Jack's hands went to remove them, frantically tucking, pushing and pulling at them, Stephen wriggling under him, while he lapped and sucked at first one, then the other of Stephen's nipples, the hands in his hair clenching and unclenching in time with Stephen's rapid breathing.
Finally he reached down to completely pull the breeches off, then slid back up to cover Stephen's body with his, sweat-slick skin against sweat-slick skin, their pricks aligned as if this position came to them naturally, the touch letting starts dance in front of his eyes. His mouth found Stephen's again, this time to be invaded by the other's tongue, as they desperately rubbed against each other. Moments later orgasm rushed through Stephen's body, his hips bucking up, hot liquid spurting over their stomachs as he screamed into the kiss, letting it swallow the sound, and the movements of the other man first tensing, then spasming under him, next to him, had Jack follow him instantly, liberally adding to the sticky mess between their bodies, shaking as his climax ran through him, groaning against trembling lips.
He collapsed over Stephen's now limp body, nearly crushing him, but not caring, same as neither man cared about the wet sheet bunched up in folds around them or the cooling sweat glistening on their skin. Both just lay there, basking in the afterglow, savouring the familiar feel of each other's skin and the comfort of each other's company they had missed for too many days.
On the floor next to them, the sloth still glared disapprovingly, forgotten by both of them.
~~~
For the most part, he had accepted the quirks of his new territory and its co-inhabitants. It was extraordinarily crowded, even though he was the only one of his species in its boundaries, as was the Lone One. There were many and many of the Fast Ones, though. But despite that overpopulation there was enough food for everyone, though where it grew he did not know. The trees on the island were dead, as were the lianas, even the ground lacked any vegetation.
Sometimes he wondered if that was why the Fast Ones always rushed around like that, but surely by now they must have realised that there simply were no leaves, and moving so hurriedly only tired them and drew unnecessary attention to them. Though he had yet to see any predators, too. Probably there weren't any, otherwise the Fast Ones never would have been able to multiply into such large a number. And, most outrageous, they seemed to live in a pack. Who ever heard of that? A pack, with a hierarchy, and an Alpha. Strange creatures. At least they seemed decent climbers and, as far as he could tell, swimmers; since there were no rivers on the island, they hardly fell into the water.
The Lone One clearly was not of their kind. Its behaviour was as eccentric as theirs, but in a different way. Like the sloth, it did not move around too quickly and spent a lot of time sitting in one place quietly, and it also was better at camouflaging than the Fast Ones, having dirt colour its fur. The algae growing in every sloth's fur and colouring it jungle-green had yet to develop, the air on the island was humid, but for algae to sprout it’d probably have to fall into the water more often. It did have beetles and the like living in its fur, though, turning it from prey into part of the jungle. Strangely it did spend a recklessly large amount of time on the ground. If any predators came to the island, it would be an easy victim despite its attempts to not draw attention.
They all slept in caves underground instead of safely up in the trees, and were all of them horribly noisy. Loudest of them was, paradoxically, Alpha. Maybe their subspecies saw loud and frequent local utterance as a sign of strength? Staying alive while constantly chattering and alerting any hungry carnivore in the area did hint at considerable strength.
The sloth suspected the Alpha was trying to mate with the Lone One. That would explain why it had been accepted into the pack, even though it clearly was not one of the Fast Ones. And, while the thought of crossbreeding made his mind twitch, a Young One of the Lone One and the Alpha could have the Alpha’s skill at climbing and swimming, and the Lone One’s good sense of being quiet, blending in and moving only when necessary. Or it could be conspicuous and physically inapt, if at all viable, and then the Alpha might chase the Lone One off the island. And all this courting did draw a lot attention to the Lone One, negating its efforts to hide safely.
The mating theory would also explain why, when the Lone One brought the sloth to the island, the Alpha first reacted so defensively. It considered him a rival. He was not interested in mating with the Lone One, of course, but he was fond of it, the way one would be fond of a retarded Young One. Which was why he did not approve of the Alpha’s attempts to get the Lone One to mate. But, he figured, since the Lone One never climbed up, into the safety of the trees, it would probably never mate. Surely not even the loud, brash Alpha would consider mating on the ground, where everything could sneak up on them.
When the Alpha first turned its attention to the sloth, he was revolted. No decent sloth would ever mate out of their species! How could it think he’d even consider that? How disgusting!
Then he reconsidered. Not the offer, never that, but his reaction. If the Alpha was courting him, then it wouldn’t bother the Lone One.
So he played nice for a while. And really, the Alpha may be obnoxious, but it was trying. It was even finding him water tasting like fermented fruit, a treat he wouldn’t usually indulge in, for fear of falling off a tree and thus prey to some carnivore or the other, but the island seemed safe enough. And, curled up on the ground, he’d still look like some brush of greenery, and any predator would walk right past him to feast on the Loud Ones.
That state of affairs did not last long, though, and soon enough the Alpha was back to courting the Lone One. It did seem rather displeased with the Alpha’s fickleness, though, and ignored it or hissed at it. Maybe its species mated for life, then of course it would not consider the Alpha as a partner anymore, after it had proven to be so unreliable.
The Alpha’s change in tactics at this was baffling. Instead of trying even harder to impress its desired mate and prove its virility, it acted clearly submissive towards the Lone One. Granted, only when none of the other Loud Ones were around, so he assumed it hadn’t given up its status as Alpha, but still. Didn’t pack animals always abide by their hierarchy, once established?
It made no sense.
Except evidently to the Lone One.
Because after another one of the Alpha’s submissions, the three of them were in their underground cave, while it was grooming the sloth, it suddenly sprang into action and in turn approached the Alpha now. It crooned at it and groomed it in a way that showed it did wish to couple. Maybe the Lone One had never met others of its kind and thought itself to be one of the Loud Ones. Why else would it reciprocate the Alpha’s intentions?
He glared at the Alpha, clinging possessively to the Lone One. The poor thing probably had no idea what it was doing, so the Alpha would be taking advantage of it. He laid an arm around its neck. It did not need to turn to the Loud One for comfort and warmth.
The Alpha did seem discouraged, but then the Lone One started to pull it towards the recklessly low nest in their shared cave. Of course Alpha followed.
They did not mean to mate that close to the ground, did they? Mating at all would be foolish, cross-breeding and that, but here, virtually on the ground? No animal could be that suicidal!
…Then again, he could be wrong. The Lone One was climbing into the nest, encouraging the Alpha to join.
It better not dare. Either it considered the Lone One one of its pack, in which case it should have its best interest at heart, and mating that close to the ground, in a nest easily accessible by any hungry predator, was not it. Or it did saw the Lone One as apart from the pack and wanted to submit it in this roundabout way, turning the Lone One from an animal outside the pack’s hierarchy to the lowest one in the pecking order.
No, the best for all involved would be to the status quo.
He held on to the Lone One, and glared at the Alpha some more. It always got what it wanted? Well, not this time! Neither he nor the Lone One were part of its pack. And its begging wouldn’t help, either.
And then the Lone One put him onto the ground.
That. It. He’d never been anything but a friend to it, and it disregarded his advice to mate? On the ground? With an animal displaying virtually no survival skills at all? How could it do that? Did it not realize what a mistake this was? He looked at it imploringly, willing it to understand.
Evidently it did not.
Both the Alpha and the Lone One had climbed into the nest now, and - were shedding their fur? What kind of animals did they think they were, snakes?
What was all that rubbing and licking, scent-marking? Oh, he had been right, this was only about submission and laying claim!
And that position? They’d never mate properly like that! How did they think they would - really, facing each other? No matter what species they were, it did not work that way! Things just didn’t fit like that, no matter how much they moved around. They were smelling of each other more than sufficiently by now, and if this was to work it was high time one of them turn around already and - too late.
One didn’t blend in, the other couldn’t climb, and both of them could not mate?
Well, at least there’d be no crossbred Young Ones.