pic/quote/scenario prompts meme continuations PSLs ( game-canon AUs, regular AUs, canon settings, one offs, etc. ) NSFW welcome - Cas prefers men but won't say no to the right woman Open to all
New York isn't home to Derek the way that California is, but he always wondered if it could be.
He lived here for years, alone with his sister, the smell of ash and cinders still staining his clothes. His first six years in the city were a hazy mix of helpless grief and self-inflicted isolation; when he wasn't hiding out in his room, pulling away from Laura in the scant bit of time she had left before her death, he was getting lost in the streets, sucking dick for free, picking fights with whoever was willing to break his nose, and sleeping with women who reminded him of Kate, of Paige, and of all the other people who hurt too much to think about. The fire took everything from him, but the chaos and the pain and the pleasure of New York offered him a reprieve.
Derek left soon enough, following after his sister, and half a year later, he was back, solemn and steady and alpha. Laura was dead, Peter was dead - he returned as the last living carrier of the Hale name, with nothing in him but determination that New York was gonna be his hunting grounds. Those first few months were difficult; he wanted a pack of his own, and he wanted to find it somewhere that made him feel vibrant and alive, but there were so many struggles to overcome before he could start. Nearly nobody knew him - the people who did just remembered him as that sad, angry, slutty welp he used to be - and even if he'd wanted to poach wolves from New York's major pack, nobody would have joined him.
So - he took to making his own.
He'd turned a dozen humans, all sad, overlooked teenagers that needed an escape, before the Alpha in charge here noticed him. He'd turned a dozen more, by the time he started being seen by shapeshifters that weren't wolves. He'd made a den for himself in an abandoned subway tunnel for him and his pack, tucked away out of sight, and every day, Derek heard more and more street-level murmurs about the lone wolf that's been building up power and no doubt getting ready to make his move. People are starting to know his face. His name. Derek likes that feeling.
It's late, only a day or two before the full moon, and Derek's in one of the clubs he used to haunt when he was seventeen - it's kind of classy, for somewhere delegated to weres by humans, but the dim lighting hiding all the stains probably helps foster that impression. He's peoplewatching - Caspian is new. Derek's seen a lot of men in this place, but they've never smelled like Caspian. Raw and feline, strong and present. Rare.
Derek's drawn to him the way he was drawn to other captains of other highschool basketball teams during away games - there's power here, recognition, and Derek's still, at heart, this self-conscious teenager who wants his peers to see him as their betters. When Derek stares at Caspian from across the room, it's as much from an innate flutter of attraction as it is from curiosity. Does this guy know him? Has he heard about him? Is he impressed by how quickly he's made a name for himself in New York, or - is he one of those animals who doesn't give a shit about wolves in the first place?
Derek needs to know, so he buys him a drink. Something hard, something that burns, something wastefully expensive. He collects the glass from the bartender and takes it over to Cas himself, leaning on the wall by the booth the tiger's sitting in, and when he holds out his glass with eyebrows raised, he doesn't have any of that smooth confidence or reflective insecurity he had when he was alone. He's just... stoic, angry and kind of hard to read. He doesn't say hi to Cas, he just - thrusts out his hand with the glass full of booze and waits silently for him to take it.
Caspian stretches lazily and the beast living inside him stretches, too. He's been away from New York for a little while, just a year or so, to clear his head. Now he's come back to some upheaval. It's not been hard to get details: he has friends in the rodere and rats know everyone and everything.
So he knows the name Derek Hale before the wolf approaches him in the bar, though it takes him a moment to realize that's who it has to be. Manny said he was dark and kind of edgy and Cas can feel the alpha power rolling off him, and he isn't part of Geller's pack. He knows that at the first real whiff of him when he's close enough. He has to be the young alpha that Manny was waxing poetic about.
Cas has a lot of questions, but wolf business isn't really his business, and city business sure as fuck isn't his problem any more now that he's not sitting at a vampire's right hand.
Caspian takes Derek in as he holds the drink out; his irises are permanently a feline shade of gold - a sign that he's spent a lot of time in his fur and a sign that he can change at will.
"I didn' think I was your type," he says in a drawl as he accepts the glass. He sniffs it, not because he's all that concerned but he's curious as to what exactly is in it. "Expensive taste, loup. You gonna sit or just stand there and watch me drink it?"
Derek had been prepping himself for a few reactions, here. An eager smile, a hungry interest. A rejection, an eye roll, something derisive or kind of mean. Complete and total unawareness of who he is. What he hadn't prepared himself for was... whatever it is this is. Caspian clearly knows who he is, but that seems to be as far as this goes. Doesn't seem like he gives a shit about him one way or another.
"I'm fine with standing."
He says this like he's being weirdly combative, like - it's a matter of pride that he doesn't take Caspian's polite offer at face value. It's very werewolf, and Derek realizes pretty quickly that his game's been sort of thrown, so. He recalibrates. Derek moves closer and leans against Caspian's booth, looking down at him, his eyes drifting from gold eyes to the whiskey in his hand, then back up.
He huffs a laugh and seems pleased with himself to have thrown his suitor off balance. He adjusts himself in the booth so that he can look at Derek without twisting. Caspian is steady as Derek leans against the booth and he can't help the grin that creeps across his face. He can smell the wolf under soap and cologne and he isn't sure how he feels about it. Not threatened - he's too big, too strong to feel particularly threatened by a wolf alone - but--
He's never had luck with wolves.
"For now. You wanna change that?"
Fuck, he's curious. It would be no skin off his nose if Geller were overthrown, especially if it's a death sentence, but who the hell is this-- kid?
This... is a little easier to deal with. The lowkey flirting, the slightly condescending laughter. Sure, being the new Alpha in town has gone to Derek's head pretty fast, so there's still a second or two where that ingrained, cocky bullshit rears its head and wonders why Caspian isn't immediately begging to suck his dick, but. If this guy just enjoys holding his cards to his chest, well - that's fine, Derek supposes, because in many ways, he's the same.
"I mean, do you want me to change that?"
Again - combative. Defensive, almost. Derek moves away from one side of the booth to the other, just to make Caspian twist in his seat again to get a better look at him. He's grinning, now, because if there's a chance that Caspian's secretly pretty impressed with him and just... doesn't want to say so? Unravelling that could make for a decent challenge. He's just gotta figure out how to get it out of him.
So. Flirting. Flirting seems to work. Derek leans on the side of the other seat.
"I don't see a lot of guys in here like you," he says, eyebrows up. "Certainly not anyone half as handsome."
"Ain't gonna see any guys like me here, cher. I'm one of a kind in this fuckin' city."
Caspian sips his drink as Derek moves; he doesn't twist or turn to keep is eye on him. The whiskey is good, definitely expensive, and he wonders absently where the money comes from. If Derek had a patron, he'd know about it. Manny couldn't keep a secret like that to save his life.
Derek looks good when he's pleased, though, Cas will concede to that. And he likes getting compliments, it plays to the vanity he's got left.
"Sit, loup," he says with a smirk as he meets Derek's gaze again. "Stay. Tell me why you walked over here."
He can't, actually. Derek's years in New York are all blurred together, and California was wolf territory and wolf territory alone. Tigers might be these rare, unheard of orange-and-black unicorns, sure, and Derek's probably aware of that, on some level, but the gravity of who he's talking to hasn't really sunk in. All Derek knows is that Caspian seems important, and Derek feels like he's important, too, so...
He wants to know Caspian. That's all. He doesn't want to know people very often. Maybe having a pack is making him sociable. Gross.
Derek is mildly annoyed by being told to sit, but if stomaching some vague condescension means he can keep hitting on Caspian and trying to pull whatever it is he wants from him out into the open, then... fine. Derek slides into the booth, kicking his feet up beneath the table to rest on Cas's seat, staying awfully close.
"Maybe I just wanted to buy you a drink." He arches his eyebrows. "Doesn't have to be anything more than that."
"Most men that buy me a drink want something," he answers, looking pleased as Derek sits and kicks his feet up. They're close. If Caspian drops his hand, he could touch him. He doesn't yet but he does make it a point to let his thigh touch Derek's leg. "Usually sex."
Blunt but true.
"Must be the animal magnetism."
Caspian takes a slow drink and keeps his eyes on Derek. He lets the whiskey sit on his tongue before he swallows, enjoying the warm burn. This place always laces its drinks to serve this particular clientele. If lycan tried hard enough, they could absolutely get drunk here.
"Must be awkward, though, seein' as how I know who you are and you don't know me."
Derek manages to keep his expression neutral and almost... bored, maybe, as Caspian talks. He feels the brush of Caspian's thigh against his calf, he feels the air change between them with the word sex. The thing is, though - he's not talking to a human. Derek might look bored, but Caspian can probably smell the slow burning arousal stirring to life in him.
"You can tell me your name, if you want me to know you."
He watches Caspian drink, sighing through his nose and leaning back into his seat. He folds his arms over his stomach, like he's settling in here for the night. Like he's let his guard down, even though he hasn't.
"Or - I mean -" Derek darts his tongue between his lips, tilting his head and smiling lightly enough to barely be there. "You can just tell me if you wanna fuck."
It wasn't terribly often that one would find Mikh'tan on the sofa. At least not if he wasn't snuggled up at Caspian's side to watch a movie, or catch a nap. But yet that was exactly where he was, a cup of tea sitting on the side table long since stone cold, legs tucked up under him, tail curled over his feet as he was quite absorbed in the book in his hands.
He'd settled in hours ago with the intent of reading just a bit, a chapter or two. But that had gone out the window some time ago, and he was quite engrossed in his reading.
Rather salacious reading if the way his pale face was flushed, or the perk of his ears was any hint.
If he'd kept track of time he'd have remembered that he'd invited Cas over, that he was supposed to be coming any minute now. Oh well. He hadn't entirely forgotten about the man, given his mental picture of what he was reading had long ago shifted to what it might be like to try these things with the shifter himself. Some of it seemed somewhat outlandish, but surely some of the ideas were possible. And they all sounded rather fun...
Cas just lets himself in when he arrives and quietly closes the door again. His eyes nearly close: Mikka's scent permeates the place and it's glorious. It doesn't take him long to find Mikka curled up on the couch, apparently absorbed in whatever it is his reading. Caspian grins and slips closer, quiet and careful so he can read a bit over the sweet cat's shoulder before he's noticed.
It really was rather dirty. As used to Cas's presence, as comfortable as he was with it, he didn't even realize the shifter had slipped up behind him. He'd likely catch sight of the way the smaller cat's bottom lip had been caught against teeth, tailtip twitching ever so intently as he was indeed absolutely absorbed in his reading.
It wasn't too explicit, as was often the case with trashy romance, but the description of the lover's first foray into oral was certainly compelling. Enough so that the soft voice speaking up at his shoulder earned a startled chirp of noise as Mikh'tan jumped, dropping the book as his tail went absolutely bottle-brush. And if he was blushing before, he was positively incandescent now as his gaze skipped back.
He breaks into a grin and leans close to nuzzle against Mikh'tan's neck. He can't help but laugh, warm and low. "Aw, mon petit cher. You cute when you startled."
Cas feels just slightly for how fast Mikka's heart is beating, but he's certain he can't take the full blame given the blush on the darling cat's face before he even showed up.
"Pick it back up," he rumbles, lips near one of Mikh'tan's ears. "Tell me what you like about it so far. Tell me what part you're at."
"You'll be the end of me." Mikh'tan sulked, though it certainly didn't sound serious, and the pout wasn't at all convincing with how his head tilted for that light nuzzle, the way that warm laugh from Cas just washed right through him.
Especially if he was going to talk in a tone like that so close to an ear that shivered faintly at the feel, Mikka letting out a soft, shaky little breath as he picked the book from his lap again, tailtip twitching more rapidly against the side of his leg.
"T-they're experimenting," He managed in a shy tone, as he found his place again. "I-it's the omega's first time trying oral. His... his alpha is gentle with him, but there's an edge of something else there that I... think I like."
As he listens, Caspian nips Mikh'tan's ear, then leans lower to kiss and nip down the side of his neck. He smells so good, and he can't help but notice every little twitch of his tail, every catch of his breath.
"An edge of what, hm? What do you like about it?"
He wants to know, because Mikh'tan's book is starting to give him some ideas that he's keen on indulging. He's sure Mikh'tan had some kind of plan when he invited Cas over that didn't involve this. But plans change.
As attentive as he was, Caspian would certainly see the way Mikka shivered at that nip, the way his pulse jumped when lips and teeth were drifting along his throat in a way that earned a low gasp of sound from him.
"H-he's very possessive," He replied softly, almost a little sheepish. There were plenty nowadays who decried that possessiveness as 'harmful archaic stereotypes', but Mikh'tan couldn't help but find that he wanted to inspire those feelings, to know that the shifter he'd gotten so close to wanted him in such a manner. "I keep thinking about how it would feel to be the focus of that-"
Whatever plans Mikh'tan had were usually nebulous- have Cas over for a meal, or to snuggle up and watch a movie or two. And while it certainly did lead to sex more often than not, they had been taking things a bit slowly, given Cas was his first partner. While Mikh'tan appreciated his thoughtful patience, if he was aware that the other had new plans forming he would certainly be interested.
"Hmmm." Caspian pushes himself up slowly but he doesn't quite stop looming over Mikh'tan. "You wanna try, kitten?"
He lifts a hand to stroke his fingers through Mikh'tan's hair, giving a gentle pull to tip his head back.
"Experiment a little and see if you like doin' the things in your book?"
Caspian is all about healthy exploration. Being patient with Mikh'tan is easy: Cas likes him and doesn't feel any need to rush him. But he's definitely interested if and when his sweet kitten wants to start branching out. He's aroused just thinking about it.
Even before he'd started seeing Cas? Mikh'tan hated these dates his parents set up for him. Knew that their continued support was contingent on giving the men and women they decided on a fair chance, even if each one had been entirely uninterested in him as a person and more interested in the idea of the family they could marry into, and the idea of an Omega on their arm.
If he could afford to live in the city without his parent's help, he liked to tell himself he'd stop letting them set him up like this. But as it stood, with only his job at the greenhouse to his name, he had no way to afford even the rent. Couldn't take the sense of isolation that would return if he had to return to living with them.
Sitting in the restaurant, while the Alpha seated across from him talked over him (again!) to order for him, Mikka just forced a polite smile on his face, and focused instead on the fact that soon enough they could say their farewells for the evening and part ways, and he'd be able to return to his life, and Cas, at least until his parents found another potential match that they approved of.
He was just grateful that Cas understood the situation, or this could have become a lot more upsetting for the little Omega.
Cas understands the situation just fine. But he doesn't like it. He manages to make it through part of the night, but after staring at his phone for far too long, he makes himself leave his apartment. He's done with this, and he's done with Mikka having to indulge this bullshit just to survive.
He lingers outside the restaurant, knowing it because Mikka told him while complaining about having to go on the date at all. He bides his time, mostly because he doesn't want to embarrass Mikka by making a scene, as tempting as it would be. As soon as he catches the little Omega's scent, he pushes away from the wall and catches his arm with a low growl. He pulls Mikh'tan closer, practically pushes the sweet kitten behind him, and levels a hard look at the other Alpha.
"Fuck off," he rumbles in warning, entirely prepared to fight about it right there on the street. Despite it all, his grip on Mikka's arm is actually gentle. "He's coming back with me."
It had been a thoroughly unpleasant date, only saved by the fact that the restaurant was nice. Mikka was thoroughly unimpressed with the Alpha's steamrolling of the conversation, of how the man seemed unable to retain a single fact about the Omega aside from the family that he came from. It just made him feel a lot less guilty that the evening would be written off as a bust.
Neither he or the Alpha were expecting Cas and his sudden intervention, though Mikka felt a wash of relief as he was tugged from the other's grasp safely behind the shifter, some bit of tension easing from him.
"Where the fuck do you get off?" The Alpha growled, like he was squaring off, but if Cas was observant he'd see the signs that this was an Alpha used to being able to intimidate and bully his way through things. If actually challenged, there was no way he was the sort to start an actual fight unless he was sure he could win.
Caspian stands straight, ready to actually fight if the other Alpha pushed his luck. But apparently all it took was not backing down, and Cas resists the urge to spit when the other Alpha backs off.
"Fuck off," he snarls, gold eyes flashing as he stands his ground. He doesn't move until the other Alpha is well off down the sidewalk. Then he turns, gathers Mikka close, and hauls his sweet cat into a heated kiss.
"Fuck this," he murmurs. "You're mine, Mikka. I don't care who your parents try to set you up with. You're mine."
Mikka didn't budge while the pair were squaring off, just hiding behind Caspian. Intensely relieved when the other Alpha was snarling a bitter curse and stalking off, even before Cas was turning his attention to him.
And that possessive declaration, the heated kiss were enough to make him melt with a soft, needy little croon, a faint shiver coursing through him as he willingly nestled in close.
"Come home with me," he rumbles warmly as he crowds Mikka against a wall. He leans down for another kiss and slides his arms around the smaller body. In theory, he's giving Mikh'tan the choice, but Caspian feels damn close to throwing the sweet cat over his shoulder to carry him off.
It's certainly not hard to guide the little cat anywhere for Cas, not with those kisses to distract him, or those arms around him. Not that Mikka would resist that request anyways, mumbling a soft, breathless agreement in between kisses.
He'd panic about what to do about his parents later, but at the moment was entirely distracted by Cas.
Caspian takes his time extracting kiss after kiss from Mikka, until his sweet cat is breathless and leaning into him. Only then does he pull Mikka away from the wall to bring him back home. He wants to make his claim, but he wants to do it in his own territory, in a place that smells like him. In a place that is familiar and safe for Mikka.
As soon as they're back in his apartment, he pins Mikka to the door and reaches down to catch him by the thighs. It takes nothing to left him up, trapping the smaller body between him and the door as he claims Mikka's mouth again with a low growl.
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bonstempsrouler) wrote2019-07-02 01:12 am
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He lived here for years, alone with his sister, the smell of ash and cinders still staining his clothes. His first six years in the city were a hazy mix of helpless grief and self-inflicted isolation; when he wasn't hiding out in his room, pulling away from Laura in the scant bit of time she had left before her death, he was getting lost in the streets, sucking dick for free, picking fights with whoever was willing to break his nose, and sleeping with women who reminded him of Kate, of Paige, and of all the other people who hurt too much to think about. The fire took everything from him, but the chaos and the pain and the pleasure of New York offered him a reprieve.
Derek left soon enough, following after his sister, and half a year later, he was back, solemn and steady and alpha. Laura was dead, Peter was dead - he returned as the last living carrier of the Hale name, with nothing in him but determination that New York was gonna be his hunting grounds. Those first few months were difficult; he wanted a pack of his own, and he wanted to find it somewhere that made him feel vibrant and alive, but there were so many struggles to overcome before he could start. Nearly nobody knew him - the people who did just remembered him as that sad, angry, slutty welp he used to be - and even if he'd wanted to poach wolves from New York's major pack, nobody would have joined him.
So - he took to making his own.
He'd turned a dozen humans, all sad, overlooked teenagers that needed an escape, before the Alpha in charge here noticed him. He'd turned a dozen more, by the time he started being seen by shapeshifters that weren't wolves. He'd made a den for himself in an abandoned subway tunnel for him and his pack, tucked away out of sight, and every day, Derek heard more and more street-level murmurs about the lone wolf that's been building up power and no doubt getting ready to make his move. People are starting to know his face. His name. Derek likes that feeling.
It's late, only a day or two before the full moon, and Derek's in one of the clubs he used to haunt when he was seventeen - it's kind of classy, for somewhere delegated to weres by humans, but the dim lighting hiding all the stains probably helps foster that impression. He's peoplewatching - Caspian is new. Derek's seen a lot of men in this place, but they've never smelled like Caspian. Raw and feline, strong and present. Rare.
Derek's drawn to him the way he was drawn to other captains of other highschool basketball teams during away games - there's power here, recognition, and Derek's still, at heart, this self-conscious teenager who wants his peers to see him as their betters. When Derek stares at Caspian from across the room, it's as much from an innate flutter of attraction as it is from curiosity. Does this guy know him? Has he heard about him? Is he impressed by how quickly he's made a name for himself in New York, or - is he one of those animals who doesn't give a shit about wolves in the first place?
Derek needs to know, so he buys him a drink. Something hard, something that burns, something wastefully expensive. He collects the glass from the bartender and takes it over to Cas himself, leaning on the wall by the booth the tiger's sitting in, and when he holds out his glass with eyebrows raised, he doesn't have any of that smooth confidence or reflective insecurity he had when he was alone. He's just... stoic, angry and kind of hard to read. He doesn't say hi to Cas, he just - thrusts out his hand with the glass full of booze and waits silently for him to take it.
"Here."
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So he knows the name Derek Hale before the wolf approaches him in the bar, though it takes him a moment to realize that's who it has to be. Manny said he was dark and kind of edgy and Cas can feel the alpha power rolling off him, and he isn't part of Geller's pack. He knows that at the first real whiff of him when he's close enough. He has to be the young alpha that Manny was waxing poetic about.
Cas has a lot of questions, but wolf business isn't really his business, and city business sure as fuck isn't his problem any more now that he's not sitting at a vampire's right hand.
Caspian takes Derek in as he holds the drink out; his irises are permanently a feline shade of gold - a sign that he's spent a lot of time in his fur and a sign that he can change at will.
"I didn' think I was your type," he says in a drawl as he accepts the glass. He sniffs it, not because he's all that concerned but he's curious as to what exactly is in it. "Expensive taste, loup. You gonna sit or just stand there and watch me drink it?"
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"I'm fine with standing."
He says this like he's being weirdly combative, like - it's a matter of pride that he doesn't take Caspian's polite offer at face value. It's very werewolf, and Derek realizes pretty quickly that his game's been sort of thrown, so. He recalibrates. Derek moves closer and leans against Caspian's booth, looking down at him, his eyes drifting from gold eyes to the whiskey in his hand, then back up.
"You here by yourself?"
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He's never had luck with wolves.
"For now. You wanna change that?"
Fuck, he's curious. It would be no skin off his nose if Geller were overthrown, especially if it's a death sentence, but who the hell is this-- kid?
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"I mean, do you want me to change that?"
Again - combative. Defensive, almost. Derek moves away from one side of the booth to the other, just to make Caspian twist in his seat again to get a better look at him. He's grinning, now, because if there's a chance that Caspian's secretly pretty impressed with him and just... doesn't want to say so? Unravelling that could make for a decent challenge. He's just gotta figure out how to get it out of him.
So. Flirting. Flirting seems to work. Derek leans on the side of the other seat.
"I don't see a lot of guys in here like you," he says, eyebrows up. "Certainly not anyone half as handsome."
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Caspian sips his drink as Derek moves; he doesn't twist or turn to keep is eye on him. The whiskey is good, definitely expensive, and he wonders absently where the money comes from. If Derek had a patron, he'd know about it. Manny couldn't keep a secret like that to save his life.
Derek looks good when he's pleased, though, Cas will concede to that. And he likes getting compliments, it plays to the vanity he's got left.
"Sit, loup," he says with a smirk as he meets Derek's gaze again. "Stay. Tell me why you walked over here."
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He can't, actually. Derek's years in New York are all blurred together, and California was wolf territory and wolf territory alone. Tigers might be these rare, unheard of orange-and-black unicorns, sure, and Derek's probably aware of that, on some level, but the gravity of who he's talking to hasn't really sunk in. All Derek knows is that Caspian seems important, and Derek feels like he's important, too, so...
He wants to know Caspian. That's all. He doesn't want to know people very often. Maybe having a pack is making him sociable. Gross.
Derek is mildly annoyed by being told to sit, but if stomaching some vague condescension means he can keep hitting on Caspian and trying to pull whatever it is he wants from him out into the open, then... fine. Derek slides into the booth, kicking his feet up beneath the table to rest on Cas's seat, staying awfully close.
"Maybe I just wanted to buy you a drink." He arches his eyebrows. "Doesn't have to be anything more than that."
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Blunt but true.
"Must be the animal magnetism."
Caspian takes a slow drink and keeps his eyes on Derek. He lets the whiskey sit on his tongue before he swallows, enjoying the warm burn. This place always laces its drinks to serve this particular clientele. If lycan tried hard enough, they could absolutely get drunk here.
"Must be awkward, though, seein' as how I know who you are and you don't know me."
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"You can tell me your name, if you want me to know you."
He watches Caspian drink, sighing through his nose and leaning back into his seat. He folds his arms over his stomach, like he's settling in here for the night. Like he's let his guard down, even though he hasn't.
"Or - I mean -" Derek darts his tongue between his lips, tilting his head and smiling lightly enough to barely be there. "You can just tell me if you wanna fuck."
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He'd settled in hours ago with the intent of reading just a bit, a chapter or two. But that had gone out the window some time ago, and he was quite engrossed in his reading.
Rather salacious reading if the way his pale face was flushed, or the perk of his ears was any hint.
If he'd kept track of time he'd have remembered that he'd invited Cas over, that he was supposed to be coming any minute now. Oh well. He hadn't entirely forgotten about the man, given his mental picture of what he was reading had long ago shifted to what it might be like to try these things with the shifter himself. Some of it seemed somewhat outlandish, but surely some of the ideas were possible. And they all sounded rather fun...
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"Hmm, this looks dirty, cher. What'cha reading?"
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It wasn't too explicit, as was often the case with trashy romance, but the description of the lover's first foray into oral was certainly compelling. Enough so that the soft voice speaking up at his shoulder earned a startled chirp of noise as Mikh'tan jumped, dropping the book as his tail went absolutely bottle-brush. And if he was blushing before, he was positively incandescent now as his gaze skipped back.
"C-Cas!"
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Cas feels just slightly for how fast Mikka's heart is beating, but he's certain he can't take the full blame given the blush on the darling cat's face before he even showed up.
"Pick it back up," he rumbles, lips near one of Mikh'tan's ears. "Tell me what you like about it so far. Tell me what part you're at."
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Especially if he was going to talk in a tone like that so close to an ear that shivered faintly at the feel, Mikka letting out a soft, shaky little breath as he picked the book from his lap again, tailtip twitching more rapidly against the side of his leg.
"T-they're experimenting," He managed in a shy tone, as he found his place again. "I-it's the omega's first time trying oral. His... his alpha is gentle with him, but there's an edge of something else there that I... think I like."
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"An edge of what, hm? What do you like about it?"
He wants to know, because Mikh'tan's book is starting to give him some ideas that he's keen on indulging. He's sure Mikh'tan had some kind of plan when he invited Cas over that didn't involve this. But plans change.
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"H-he's very possessive," He replied softly, almost a little sheepish. There were plenty nowadays who decried that possessiveness as 'harmful archaic stereotypes', but Mikh'tan couldn't help but find that he wanted to inspire those feelings, to know that the shifter he'd gotten so close to wanted him in such a manner. "I keep thinking about how it would feel to be the focus of that-"
Whatever plans Mikh'tan had were usually nebulous- have Cas over for a meal, or to snuggle up and watch a movie or two. And while it certainly did lead to sex more often than not, they had been taking things a bit slowly, given Cas was his first partner. While Mikh'tan appreciated his thoughtful patience, if he was aware that the other had new plans forming he would certainly be interested.
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He lifts a hand to stroke his fingers through Mikh'tan's hair, giving a gentle pull to tip his head back.
"Experiment a little and see if you like doin' the things in your book?"
Caspian is all about healthy exploration. Being patient with Mikh'tan is easy: Cas likes him and doesn't feel any need to rush him. But he's definitely interested if and when his sweet kitten wants to start branching out. He's aroused just thinking about it.
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If he could afford to live in the city without his parent's help, he liked to tell himself he'd stop letting them set him up like this. But as it stood, with only his job at the greenhouse to his name, he had no way to afford even the rent. Couldn't take the sense of isolation that would return if he had to return to living with them.
Sitting in the restaurant, while the Alpha seated across from him talked over him (again!) to order for him, Mikka just forced a polite smile on his face, and focused instead on the fact that soon enough they could say their farewells for the evening and part ways, and he'd be able to return to his life, and Cas, at least until his parents found another potential match that they approved of.
He was just grateful that Cas understood the situation, or this could have become a lot more upsetting for the little Omega.
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He lingers outside the restaurant, knowing it because Mikka told him while complaining about having to go on the date at all. He bides his time, mostly because he doesn't want to embarrass Mikka by making a scene, as tempting as it would be. As soon as he catches the little Omega's scent, he pushes away from the wall and catches his arm with a low growl. He pulls Mikh'tan closer, practically pushes the sweet kitten behind him, and levels a hard look at the other Alpha.
"Fuck off," he rumbles in warning, entirely prepared to fight about it right there on the street. Despite it all, his grip on Mikka's arm is actually gentle. "He's coming back with me."
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Neither he or the Alpha were expecting Cas and his sudden intervention, though Mikka felt a wash of relief as he was tugged from the other's grasp safely behind the shifter, some bit of tension easing from him.
"Where the fuck do you get off?" The Alpha growled, like he was squaring off, but if Cas was observant he'd see the signs that this was an Alpha used to being able to intimidate and bully his way through things. If actually challenged, there was no way he was the sort to start an actual fight unless he was sure he could win.
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"Fuck off," he snarls, gold eyes flashing as he stands his ground. He doesn't move until the other Alpha is well off down the sidewalk. Then he turns, gathers Mikka close, and hauls his sweet cat into a heated kiss.
"Fuck this," he murmurs. "You're mine, Mikka. I don't care who your parents try to set you up with. You're mine."
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And that possessive declaration, the heated kiss were enough to make him melt with a soft, needy little croon, a faint shiver coursing through him as he willingly nestled in close.
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He can spare Mikka some dignity.
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He'd panic about what to do about his parents later, but at the moment was entirely distracted by Cas.
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As soon as they're back in his apartment, he pins Mikka to the door and reaches down to catch him by the thighs. It takes nothing to left him up, trapping the smaller body between him and the door as he claims Mikka's mouth again with a low growl.
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