#coffeebuddha

“It doesn’t bother you, does it?” Will asked, worried but trying to play it casual. Like he hadn’t been fretting over this question since last weekend when he had started his usual classic film talk after taking over Charlie’s remote.

He didn’t worry about taking over Charlie’s TV, though he should probably worry about that, too. It was just that, if Will didn’t find reasons to linger in Charlie’s apartment, he’d have to be polite and leave, and he didn’t want to. He never did, but he’d stopped being alarmed by how much he thought of Charlie’s place as home ages ago. Anyway, Charlie didn’t seem to mind Will commandeering his television. He didn’t always watch whatever trashy reality series or old Hollywood classic Will had settled on, sometimes he read, or even, once, fell asleep, exhausted and lovely in that recliner that he used when his hip bothered him. But he never offered any objections to Will snatching the remote and plopping—insinuating himself—onto the couch.

If anything, Charlie always seemed surprised, or maybe confused. It was difficult to say; Will was only human and couldn’t sniff out whatever Charlie could.

Sweet of Charlie to never comment on whatever desperately pining and horny signals Will was sending out, but that was Charlie all over, sweet.

Well, once you got past the initial barking and ruffled fur. Though the barking was largely confusion and the ruffled fur was quite a bit of pain. A car accident and a team of human doctors who hadn’t known how to deal with were physiology and its rapid healing had left Charlie with a hip that had not healed right, with no way to correct it outside of surgery—and considering how werewolves also had issues metabolizing anesthesia, Charlie had understandably growled a very firm ‘no’ and chosen to live with pain and a limp instead.

“What is there to mind?” Charlie asked gruffly, in the tone that had aroused and scared Will in equal measures when he had first met Charlie.

There Will had been, innocently—not so innocently—doing his best Marilyn impression and flirting over a balcony with the distinguished, grumpy guy from one of the other apartments, and said distinguished, grumpy guy had responded with that tone, as if he wanted to shove Will against a wall and bite his throat and well, Will had two very different reactions to that thought.

Also to meeting fiercely glowing eyes and realizing the hot professor type with the gray and black hair was a were.

Now, after several months of slowly, slowly toning down his flirting until the wolf felt comfortable enough around him to fall asleep, holy shit, Will knew that tone was just Charlie trying to cover his anxiety, and the glowing eyes that day had probably been about Charlie’s current pain levels more than anything else.

Will met Charlie’s eyes now and startled a bit to find them faintly shining, although that was likely the light hitting them. Charlie was standing between the kitchen and living room, in sweats and a plain t-shirt, a glass in his hand that held a ginger ale with ice, for Will.

Will drank so much less around Charlie. Charlie didn’t ask him to; Charlie just didn’t do it himself, since he was were and it was basically pointless for him. Will didn’t mind. He was, despite what he liked to pretend, getting a little old for the constant partying, and he didn’t need vodka to relax around Charlie. That was the amazing thing about Charlie. Will was hopelessly and unrequitedly in love with him, and aroused every time he smelled Charlie’s soap or caught him removing his tie after work or saw him drag a hand through his hair, but sometime in the past months, Will had relaxed.

He still flirted, he couldn’t help himself, but he could do other things, too, around Charlie. Charlie accepted movie trivia and analysis from Will as if Will had intelligent things to say. He nodded along to Will’s work stories even though Will did hair and he was hardly in the league of a teacher like Charlie. He let Will feed his cat. He trusted Will with that, as if Will was more than just a shallow, aging twink.

Will stared at Charlie in wonder, as he often did, then snapped out of it enough to hold out his hand like a greedy child. Charlie crossed over to bring him the glass before returning to the kitchen.

“My taste in movies,” Will explained finally, although the time to discuss this was probably months ago and not now, with his socked feet on the coffee table he had dragged Charlie to IKEA to buy only to nearly faint when Charlie had picked it up easily and carried the thing to his car without any apparent strain.

Weres. Will had known they were strong. Porn made that clear. But that was porn. Charlie was real life.

Charlie could afford to shop at better places than IKEA, Will had remembered after, embarrassed, but there the Fjällbo sat, the bottom shelf lined with padding so Sam could curl up there.

“A lot of the black and white movies aren’t exactly… great with certain issues,” Will added awkwardly, as though they both weren’t aware that terrible portrayals of queer people and queer subtext weren’t a major part of what Will loved about old movies. Race issues had not concerned many in the old Hollywood studios any more than sexuality issues had. And beings, when they appeared in classic films, tended not to fare well. That was a lot of things that might have been bothering Charlie this whole time, and he hadn’t said.

“You mean the human dressed as an elf, complete with prosthetic ears, who was coded as gay and also a murderer, who died after trying to take the hero’s house in the movie you watched last week?” Charlie asked blandly.

Will wrinkled his nose. “I hadn’t seen that movie before. If I’d known it was like that, I wouldn’t have watched it, or made you watch it. I mean, not that I made you. I couldn’t make you do anything, obviously, you big, strong thing, you.”

Charlie appeared in the room again, holding a mug of tea. It was part of his antianxiety regimen to take calming time for himself in the evenings. For some reason, Charlie interpreted that as chamomile time.

Will loved him so much it was disgusting. He was daffy for a werewolf in sweatpants who drank herbal tea and read history books and never responded to Will’s innuendo except to look confused or to frown and sigh. Will had never even been in love before, and now this, introducing Professor Charlie to the finer points of Barbara Stanwyck, or film noir, or screwballs, instead of going out.

Well, he still went out. Will had friends and a life, after all. But much less, and with much more discretion. It felt wrong, somehow, to bring men back to his place if it meant Charlie might sniff them out. Even though he had no clue if Charlie would even care.

Sometimes, he thought so. Sometimes, he thought Charlie’s eyes would glow when Will mentioned going out, or that it must mean something when Charlie would come to visit him early the next mornings, with coffee and pastries, his gaze raking over Will as if looking for something, some trace of what Will had been up to.

But then Will would remember the sheer number of people apparently happy to throw themselves at Charlie when he and Charlie went somewhere, and that the best Will had to offer was nights like last weekend, with subpar, racist, homophobic, speciest classic films.

He wasn’t expecting to be Charlie’s mate or anything, of course not, not Will, but he’d never had a boyfriend before and he couldn’t help thinking what a great one Charlie would be. He thought it now, and shivered, and hoped Charlie had long since gone nose-blind to the scent of Will’s longing.

Will dropped his gaze to his ginger ale. “Anyway. If you’d rather pick the movie… or not have me over, I’d get it.”

Charlie stilled in the middle of setting down his mug of tea, then slowly straightened. “What?”

“Oh no, it’s quiet Charlie,” Will said without thinking, looking up. Charlie was frozen and a million times more tense than he’d been a moment ago. “I want to be here,” he assured Charlie quickly, while silently cursing Charlie’s ex and the host of issues he’d left Charlie with. “You know I do,” he added significantly, as close to mentioning his feelings directly as he’d ever dared.

Charlie frowned a little, not unusual, and then tipped his head to one side, a lot more unusual. Charlie’s family did that. According to Charlie’s Nana, Charlie had trained himself out of doing it because Mark—the ex Will would hate until the end of time—had thought it made him seem too dog-like.

Will had never felt true loathing until he’d heard about Mark. It was a good thing Will wasn’t a were, because he suspected he’d be tempted to use his teeth on Mark. Charlie’s Nana would probably help him.

“I don’t understand,” Charlie replied at last.

“I’m just asking if you want a different movie,” Will answered, putting his ginger ale on a coaster and then wiping his damp hands on his jeans.

“No, you’re not.” Charlie sniffed the air. He openly sniffed the air between them.

Will gasped. “Rude.”

“What is this about?” The light hit Charlie’s eyes again.

Will’s body had a very specific reaction to that, which he did his best to cover by snatching his ginger ale and gulping it down. He set the now-empty glass back on the coaster.

“I know you didn’t like that movie, Will. You very vocally ripped it to pieces as you watched it.”

Will crossed his arms, tore his gaze away. “You don’t have to tolerate me just to be nice,” he mumbled, watching steam rise from Charlie’s tea.

“What?” Charlie asked, though he must have heard every word.

“You don’t have to tolerate me just to be nice!” Will repeated, louder, and then leaned over to hide his face in one of the ugly pillows that Charlie’s sister liked to needlepoint. Charlie was very quiet now. “Ugh,” Will said, muffled, feeling very young and not at all distinguished. “It’s just… look I know you know, and it’s fine, really. I didn’t expect anything. I might want it but I don’t expect it. But we go places, like, we went to the mall so you could get Anne a present, and everyone looks at you and tries to talk to you. Or you need me to pick you up from some work event, and everyone you introduced me to is like, smart and educated and like you, and would never—I must bore you, sometimes. Even though you like your evenings at home, I must be… I’m just here, and I’m in your space, and I make noise and say nothing important, and I have the TV on all the time—and your poor ears, Charlie. Then you have to smell me, too, I just… Ugh. I’m sorry.”

“Did you eat today?”

Will raised his head at the question. “Also rude. And yes, I did.”

Charlie wrinkled his nose. “Grocery store sushi. And it was hours ago. Do you need dinner?”

Will stared at Charlie’s handsome face and tried to resent his sins being sniffed out. “I’m having a breakdown and you’re offering to feed me?” he demanded. “Yeah, okay,” he sighed in the next second. “Will you make me pasta?”

Charlie smiled, the faintest tease of a smile at the corner of his mouth, making Will sigh again. But Charlie didn’t move. The slight frown returned. “I like having you here, Will. It’s… your noise, and your scent. With mine.” Charlie made a sound, sort of a strangled growl, then turned and headed to the kitchen. “I might be out of pasta. But I can make you a sandwich.”

Will blinked, then pushed himself all the way off the couch and to his feet. “Don’t make me something if you aren’t eating too.”

“I don’t mind,” Charlie called out, only to lower his volume at the end when Will burst into the kitchen. He seemed surprised Will was there, which made no sense, because it was impossible for Will to sneak up on him, not that Will had been trying to.

Charlie had his head down and his hands pressed to the counter, for one moment, he looked like someone bearing a great weight. Then he raised his head and smiled, a careful, fragile thing. Linus Larabee, if Linus Larabee ever bayed at the moon.

“What don’t you mind?” Will wondered, suddenly almost breathless.

“Making food for you.” Charlie scratched the back of his neck, cleared his throat. “Or the noise of the TV. I like your movies—most of your movies. I like you going on about them. I like your scent, even if… even if it makes things hard.”

Will bit his lip in order to leave any innuendo unspoken, although that was practically a dare. “I can take it,” he said, instead of offering to take care of any hard things Charlie might have. “Don’t worry about it.”

Charlie’s frown was full force this time. “Don’t worry about it?” he repeated, incredulous.

“I won’t cause problems. Even though, to be honest, I will absolutely want to “Cordelia, darling, you beguiling creature!” utterly destroy anyone you do decide to go out with. Or like… your mate, should you find them. I’ll want to. But I won’t. You should be happy, you know. Just, um,” Will turned his head to avoid the deliciously ferocious gleam of Charlie’s eyes, “you aren’t going to find them if you’re spending nights with me boring your pants off—God, I wish I could get your pants off. Fuck. Ignore that part. Don’t, um… what are you doing?”

A low rumbling sound was just audible, and slowly growing louder.

“What did I say to you when we met, Will?”

“Huh?” Will stared at Charlie’s chest, which was marginally safer than Charlie’s devastating face. “Are you growling at me right now? For real?” Charlie had growled when they met, too. “You said, ‘Be more careful!’ and snapped at me for accidentally knocking a plant pot off the balcony.” It had not been an accident. Will had wanted Charlie’s attention. Which he had gotten. Six-feet-plus of grumpy sexy wolfy attention. “Then you said, ‘You,’ and I said, ‘Will. And you are?’ and you growled and told me to put more sunblock on.”

“After that,” Charlie asked in a tight voice.

Will glanced up in concern. “Well, then I said something like, ‘Want to help me rub it in?’ which I admit, was not the most subtle thing I’ve ever said, but you have no idea what you look like, and I had gone all horny-stupid the second you growled at me.”

Charlie closed his eyes. “After that.”

Will did his best, but he had been too distracted at the time and could hardly be expected to remember every single word. “All I know is that it ended up with me knowing your name and me doing my very best to get you into my apartment. Which didn’t work and I’m… that’s okay. This,” Will waved a hand over his body, then up at his messy hair, “didn’t do it for you. I get it. People don’t belong to people. My heart is just…. I should probably go, huh? It’s getting a little tragic in here.”

“You didn’t hear a word I said?” Charlie demanded in disbelief, then made a garbled sound. “We didn’t go into your apartment. You put on a shirt, and you came downstairs, and I took you to the garden center so you could buy another potted plant. Your scent filled up my car and you looked at me as though I was… amazing.” Charlie released a long breath, then opened his eyes.

“You bought me a plant.” Will had been staring at Charlie in awe at the time and had barely noticed Charlie paying for the plant.

“Yes. I didn’t know what else to do. I thought it was nothing. That it would bore you. I was trying anything, even though I didn’t think it would work. It was just that you were…” He gestured. Possibly, if Will had been a werewolf, he might have understood what Charlie meant.

Words were important to weres when talking to humans. Will knew that. Charlie’s family had told him so. Amongst themselves, weres barely used words at all.

“Men usually buy me drinks. You bought me a plant. Why would that ever be boring?” A terrible, shaking feeling settled in Will’s chest, like hope. “You said, ‘Thank you for letting me do that.’” Will remembered suddenly. “And I said, ‘I think I’d let you do anything.’” He didn’t blush for it then, and he didn’t now. But, “And you said…”

“’You don’t even know me yet.’” Charlie watched him very intently. “Do you know me now?”

Will snorted despite himself. “I know what brands of teas you like and the name of your cat’s vet. I’ve met your whole family. You tried to get me on your phone plan, for fuck’s sake. We spent Christmas Eve togeth…” It was Will’s turn to frown. “You sat through Christmas in Connecticut and The Shop Around the Corner with me, and then admitted you’d seen them before, and I nearly fell asleep on you before I had to get up to drive to my sister’s. And you worried the whole time that I was too tired and that I’d pass out at the wheel, so you had me call you when I got there.”

“I worry too much. You put up with a lot.” Charlie made a face.

Will stepped forward automatically, already trying to shush away whatever self-deprecating thing Charlie was about to say next. “I really don’t. I could put up with a whole lot more. I like that you worry over me. I like that your family now worries over me. It’s nice. It feels like…”

“Home?” Charlie asked softly. Will met his eyes, those eyes that were going to kill him someday. “Could it be, do you think? It’s not exciting. I don’t act like a were in a romance novel. Or even like a hero in an old movie. I drink tea, and I pet my cat, and I take care of my family. And you. That’s… not much to offer, but it’s what I have. I thought… you like to tease me, but I wasn’t sure. You always leave.”

“Rude,” Will declared faintly. “I was never invited to stay.” Except here he was, in his socks, sober and fine with it, about to get a sandwich even though Charlie wasn’t hungry. “You bought me a plant,” Will realized out loud. “Oh, you have to use your words, Charlie. Have you been trying to date me?”

“Date?” Charlie echoed gruffly before his face went totally blank. “If you want.”

Will waved a finger in the wolf’s face. “You know I want. I have made it more than clear that I want. You were the one who… bought me a plant and invited me to your home. Oh.” He leaned in to hide his face against Charlie’s impressive chest. “I have a horrible suspicion that can’t be right. Tell me it’s not right, Charlie, before I say something embarrassing.”

He could feel Charlie’s confusion. “I don’t know how to answer that. But we can pretend. Go on like this. I won’t mind. This is more than I expected. You’re full of life. I didn’t think you’d want even this much of me.”

“Liar.” Will’s voice trembled. “Weres are the worst liars. I have an impulse, Charlie, a terrible one.”

“I’m supposed to tell you to never resist an impulse, especially a terrible one,” Charlie answered gravely, exactly the way Will had once asked him to.

Will shuffled closer, hardly breathing as he put his lips to Charlie’s throat and gave him the softest kiss. Charlie raised his head, but didn’t protest.

“You fall asleep around me, and worry over me, and take me to meet your family.” Will dragged his nose over Charlie’s skin. “I’m fucking nuzzling you right now. God, fuck, I’ve wanted….”

“I know.” Charlie’s arms settled hesitantly around him. “But you left. I wasn’t sure.”

Will had never been in love in his entire foolish life and then he’d met one werewolf in a necktie and that was it. “You didn’t think I’d want you? Idiot.”

“You’re young and desirable.” Charlie stopped, huffed, which meant he was holding back whatever he wanted to say. “You still… go out.”

“That’s nothing!” Will raised his head to bark like a lost were who had just encountered a pretty human on a balcony. “This is home!”

Charlie’s lips parted. He took a deep breath, held it, like the very air between them was something to savor. Then he exhaled. “Yes. If you want.”

Will realized he was grasping fistfuls of Charlie’s t-shirt. He didn’t let go. He couldn’t. “You worried this whole time?” he asked, while his legs gave out and he blushed hot like he hadn’t since he was seventeen.

His feet left the ground, and he distantly resented that he didn’t have the mental energy to devote to paying attention to being held in Charlie’s arms. He came back to his senses when Charlie tried to place him on the couch and then release him. Will pulled hard and took Charlie down with him, grunting at the weight, and then alive at finally being pressed down, even if it was at an awkward angle, Charlie not even fully on the cushions.

Will wrapped his arms tightly around Charlie’s chest and buried his face in Charlie’s throat. “Did you really think I wouldn’t want you?”

“It happens,” Charlie tried to say, to wriggle to a more comfortable position, or escape, but a moment later, he put his weight onto his elbow so he could run a hand through Will’s hair. It was lovely, and made Will take a shuddering breath. “You kept letting me woo you,” Charlie added in the softest voice.

Will shivered, wishing Charlie would give his hair a tug, wishing Charlie would continue petting him. All of Will’s innuendo seemed to have vanished. Charlie was heavy and Will loved it, his breath gone, his skin prickling. He wanted to be hurt that Charlie had taken this long to be sure, but somehow, that was gone, too.

“Will you bite me?” Will had seen the porn, loved the porn, envied the stars. Charlie made a pleasant, rumbling sound and ran his fingers through Will’s hair again. “Mark me?” Will went on, coaxing or daring, he didn’t know anymore. “It will last. People will see. I’ll show them. They’ll know that I’m…” he hesitated before falling back on something safer, lines from another old movie. “Don’t you know you’re the only man I ever loved? Don’t you know you I couldn’t look at another man if I wanted to? And don’t you know I’ve waited all my life for you, you big mug?”

Fingers curled in his hair, tugging. Will gasped but obediently raised his head.

Charlie stared at him from almost no distance at all. He studied Will with those magnificent eyes. “You’re anxious,” Charlie announced. Because, of course, he knew Will now, knew what Will did when he didn’t know what else to do. When he was scared.

“Don’t frown, you’ll make wrinkles…” Will started to chide only to gasp when Charlie gave his hair another tug.

“You’ve been paying attention,” Will told him, strained and pleased all at once. “You going to hurt me, gentle Charlie? The way I want you to?”

“You’re my mate,” Charlie whispered, and watched Will as if he wasn’t sure what Will might do next. If he thought Will would bolt, he was very wrong.

Mate. Will was his mate. Charlie’s mate. That terrible feeling in Will’s chest was like bursting fireworks now. He gazed up at Charlie like a stunned deer, then flushed in shameless arousal at the idea of being Charlie’s prey.

Charlie took a breath, and the glow of his eyes lessened. He ran his fingers through Will’s hair again. It felt helpless. Will made a weak sound.

“We’re mated,” Charlie said again, cheeks dark with whatever Will’s scent was telling him.