bilocations | Open Post

Sawyer look surprised and then looks down. His stomach is starting to ache from eating too fast but he ignores it and draws his knees up to his chest as he looks at Bishop, brow furrowed.

"I don't know what being safe is like," Sawyer says, he vaguely remembers the warm feeling of home and security but it's distant, blurry just like the memory of his family's faces.

"I know you're different."

He let him eat and drink and sleep. He didn't force himself on him. That didn't mean Sawyer was safe.

That mixture of feelings hit again; sad and angry all at once.

Bishop watches Sawyer for a long moment, taking in his discomfort and something else. But he reaches out, holding his palm up, “…come here.”

Sawyer stares at the hand for a long time. At least it feels like a long time. He slowly uncurls himself and he moves to come to Bishop. He's not sure if he's supposed to take the hand or if it was just a gesture. There are a lot of basic communication skills that he doesn't have.

When Sawyer is close enough, Bishop reaches for him again. His touch isn’t a hostile, threatening thing, but it’s firm enough that the other should know he wants him in his lap.

His arms circle his waist and he looks over his face, all of those stunning features, it’s no wonder they wanted to keep him for themselves.

“This? This is safe. I am safe. When you’re with me, when you smell like me—you’re safe. One day, you’ll understand that.”

Sawyer swallows and he's learned not to hesitate, although, a part of him thinks that the other wouldn't hurt him if he did. He moves into Bishop's lap once that's clear it's what he wanted. His heart is racing as he's held in the other's lap. He can smell him even more strongly now. His eyes meet the other's briefly before averting.

The words are soothing and Sawyer finds he almost believes them, he really, really almost does. He gives a nod, looking back at him again. He's quiet. He'd never spoken much. What he said didn't tend to matter and he feels like he should say something but he doesn't know what or why he feels that way.

Instead, his small hands, press to the other's chest and up to his shoulders. There's a slight tremble in them.

"You really want to claim me?" he says softly, finally saying something. They'd told him he was worthless and that no one ever would want him. Yet this alpha, a leader of his own pack does?

Scent is a powerful thing, and with Sawyer in his lap; such a little thing, obviously mistreated, all of his senses go a little crazy.

The weight of him causes him to want to curl around him more.
The timid way he speaks makes him want to chew on him like a damn puppy.
And the way he smells, under the layer that is him, that’s them…the scent that is just Sawyer—

“I want you to be mine, yeah.”

Sawyer's both afraid of the idea of being claimed but he's also terrified at the idea that Bishop might change his mind. He curls his fingers into the other's shoulder. The words appealing to some primal sense in Sawyer and the urge to submit pulls forward as more than simply a survival instinct.

One of his hands move from the other's shoulder and he pulls his hair away from his neck, tilting his head, offering his neck, his throat to Bishop.

Bishop had told him to wait. But he also understood the rush. The primal part of his brain urges him forward and he breathes the smaller male in, “I promise I’ll take care of you.”

He might not fully believe him right now but hopefully he would in time. Hopefully.

Teeth ache, but he noses gently against the others jaw before he opens his mouth and presses something of a kiss to his skin before biting down. The initial taste of copper coats his tongue and he feels a sort of protective jolt, and a rumbling sound as he wraps himself a little more around him.

Sawyer finds that he wasn't completely ready for the feeling of the other's bite. He grabs at him as if to steady himself. Bishop's words echo in his mind and he wants to believe it but everything in him reminds him he can't trust, he can't believe anything that anyone says. He'll never be safe but he wants to be and this seems like his best choice, his best chance.

He gasps softly, lips parter at the claiming bite. He's been bitten before but not this way, not with this intent. It's different, it's overwhelming and terrifying and ... warm. As Bishop bites him, presses closer it feels, holds him more firmly his scent is even stronger and Sawyer bites his bottom lip to hold back a cry. Shockingly, to him, it doesn't just hurt, there's pleasure there too.

Bishop lingers there a touch longer than necessary; the scent of him filling him up completely and another rumble sounds before he slowly, gently, pulls from the bite. His lips brush faintly over the wound and he doesn’t let him go.

Sawyer shivers as the bite ends, but he can still feel it. He can feel the other's lips over it. He doesn't know what's next. What is he supposed to do? He feels even smaller than he did before and overpowered by the other's body, by his scent, by the strength he knows the other has.

His lips part and he releases a shaky breath.

He's claimed now. He has a mate. And a mate is supposed to protect you and keep you safe but... Sawyer doesn't trust it yet. He presses close instinctively, though.

Bishops arms move to envelope him even more; keeping him shielded even from the damn room. His nose buries in the others hair and he takes a breath, “I’ve got you.”

Sawyer nods even while the other's nose is in his hair. He still keeps waiting on the other shoe to drop, on Bishop to hurt him but he holds him like this and assures him... It's terrifying in its own way.

"Others have had me before," he says quietly. He's not a pure virgin, he bites his lip. "But they didn't want to mate me."

They just wanted to hurt and humiliate him.

That is not something that surprises him. He had expected as much given where he had taken him from. The way those people were. The way they handled literally everything.

“Often?”

Sawyer feels embarrassed, his cheeks reddening and he looks down, pulling back slightly but there's not much space for him to move away or hide.

"Yes."

Bishop holds him there, and shakes his head.

“I’m not going to force you to do that,” he says quietly.

Sawyer exhales and he knows it's true. The other hadn't forced anything on him so far. He takes a deep breath and forces his eyes up to meet the others.

"You don't have to force me. You're my mate, you claimed me."

And that does mean something to Sawyer. He'd never lost that stupid romantic notion, wish. And even if he can't trust it there's a spark of something beneath everything else.

“When you’re ready,” he settles on.

But sex hadn’t been the reason behind him saving Sawyer from those assholes. Nor was it the sole reason for the mate thing. Did he find this little thing attractive? Obviously.

“I want to wait till you trust me. Not just because you feel it’s your duty. It isn’t. Do you understand?” Reaching up he runs his fingers back through his new mates hair. “But I do want you to stay here and sleep with me. Sleep.”

Sawyer's expression grows perplexed and it's... almost beyond comprehension. He bites the inside of his cheek. How would he ever know how to trust Bishop? Or anyone. He lowers his eyes and doesn't know how to take all this. All he has known is a world where it would be his duty. A world where his sole purpose had been entertainment whether sexual or otherwise and now...

The other is giving him agency and trying to make him feel safe and Sawyer feels even more fragile in this unfamiliar territory.

"I don't understand you," he murmurs. He lowers his head and then presses his face against the other's shoulder. There's a strange feeling of contentment at being held like this, gently, but he doesn't know what to do with all of this. He's not used to having choices, to having a say in anything at all. "I want to believe you."

Bishop knows that this is a tightrope he’s walking on. If he insists on being too good, the other could take it as some sort of refusal or something. But if he gives in to what the primal part of his brain says to do, he could rush in too fast.

But when he feels the weight of Sawyers head on his shoulder he chuckles softly, “I don’t exactly fit the mold. I know. But it’s worked out pretty well for me so far…”

He reaches up to cup his face in his hands, looks him over a moment and then presses a kiss to his mouth that isn’t a rush of anything but warmth, “I will want you when you’re ready. I promise you that. I don’t care that you aren’t some pure unicorn or something. But you won’t be used like that again moving forward.”

Sawyer supposes the other is right in that. He's very... very different.

As he feels the other's hand on his face he closes his eyes after a second, feeling the other's lips against his own. There's warmth that blossoms from it, not just a primal response to his mate. He furrows his brow at the pleasantness of it.

"Can you do that again?"

Bishop doesn’t question it, he just leans in and kisses him again. The first one lingers a bit and the following two are softer, more…playful.

Sawyer lets himself relax, it takes effort to do so. He slowly starts to kiss back, though, he's fumbling a little with it. He pulls back after one of the kisses looking at Bishop.

"No one's ever kissed me like that."

Now that he’s been able to, all Bishop wants to do is kiss him. His eyes linger on the others mouth and then he hums lowly, “like what?”

"Like they're not trying to hurt me," Sawyer answers honestly. "Like... they want me to like it."

His own gaze lowers to the other's lips again.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject