What the hell is a Stiles? (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} _stiles) wrote, |
He had no idea it’d have such an effect on Isaac. But he seemed the most prone to all the wolfy affection, Stiles had noted as he’d stroked Isaac’s hair earlier.
The odd doping effect seemed to spread to the other two after a minute or so, and they nuzzled each other affectionately, cuddling against each other. That was pretty cool.
Stiles body, however, seemed to take that as a cue. The scent of the pack, comfortable and content and secure, and the scent of his and Derek’s nest, as Erica called it, coupled with everything about Derek, his heat and the way he was nuzzling his mark, apparently flipped the ‘we need to make babies now’ switch.
It made sense, of course it did. In the wild wolves wouldn’t breed if they were facing some hardship, they’d wait until things were settled. And right here, right now, things couldn’t have been more settled. Things were stable, his pack were doing well. Time for babies.
He felt the warmth building slowly in his belly where Isaac’s head lay, could feel the slightest amount of slick starting between his legs. If Isaac knew what the scent was he didn’t react. But Stiles was sure it wasn’t appropriate. The only factor he could change was Derek’s nuzzling, so he nudged his mate gently in the side.
“You should stop that,” he murmured, assuming Derek would be able to smell his arousal. For all their talk the other day, he didn’t really think they’d do anything in front of the pack, right? Even if the thought kind of made his heart skip and his skin flush warmer. Still, he found himself nuzzling gently at Derek’s hair until his mate looked up and their lips could meet.
Their pheromones must be awesome, he thought, parting his lips to kiss Derek deeper. He’s expected at least Erica to make some noise of protest.