"Ma - Mar - Gah - Wha - ?"

"I don't want to!"

"Then - fuck - then don't! Who said anything about - you wanted to come to dinner!"

Darren glanced away from Spencer but none of his family were any help. Morgan looked worried, Justin exasperated, Ronan resigned, Dan amused, and Kit mouthed 'I told you so' at him.

Instead of flipping him off as he usually would, Darren turned back to his mate.

"I, Jeez, I don't know... What do you... what do you want?"

Spencer crossed his arms but looked down. He looked more deflated that angry. Did he really believe he had no choice in this? How could he think that?

Darren might not be the best with words, but he had to clear up this mess somehow.

"Just take me home," Spencer said, and got to his feet, striding out into the hallway with his shoulders hunched.

Darren followed forlornly, watching the other man pull on his short summer jacket, when suddenly a slim arm draped itself over his shoulder.

"I'll come over to your house tomorrow then," Kit said loudly, his lips very close to Darren's ear, face turned towards Spencer.

"I stand by my first assessment," he murmured more quietly.

"Shut up."

"Where did you even find him?"

"Found him at a shooting range."

"Ah."

Kit batted his long, thick eyelashes in Spencer's direction, and raised his voice again.

"We can play a bit."

He draped himself carelessly over Darren's shoulder, when he usually only got this close if he wanted to punch him or examine in detail how he played a specific sequence.

"You can show me how to finger some of those complicated chords."

Then he leaned his head against his shoulder briefly and laughed his cigarettes-and-sex raspy laugh before turning away, without so much as looking him in the eyes.

Okay. Weird.

He looked back at Spencer and saw his mate's lips pressed into a thin white line before he stormed out the door - there was no other word for it - and slammed it shut behind him.

"Shit."

Darren hastened to pull on his boots. While he struggled to lace them up as quickly as possible, he could hear his brother's voice drift over from the kitchen.

"Did you have to tease Spencer like that?"

Darren could hear the shrug in Kit's voice as he replied.

"That boy needed a push. I'm just taking care of my buddy."

"I think those two can figure it out on their own. But if you're looking for somebody to take care of...I don't have anything planned..."

Darren listened to Kit's answering laugh and something burned, acidic, in his stomach.

He was envious. Not of Dan - there had never been any romantic feelings between him and Kit, they had just sort of crashed together in aggression and lust - but of what they had together.

Their easy, carefree affection. Shared tender moments. Someone by your side.

Sentimental mush, he told himself, shaking his head as he pushed open the door.

Could he have that with Spencer?

I wouldn't know where to start. And did his mate even want him?

From what he'd heard today, it hardly seemed likely.

"Enga- what the fuck!?"

In hindsight maybe he shouldn't have opened with that. But when Darren pulled open the door to his truck and got into the driver's side beside Spencer, he was fuming.

Ask to meet my pack - then treat them like shit - then talk like I'm forcing you to be here...

"You're making freakin' wedding plans, and you - you don't even know me! I could be a bastard - actually am a bastard, according to a fair few people - but the point is.... Jesus, Spencer."

Darren ran his hands through his hair. "What the actual fuck?!"

Spencer sat with his arms crossed over his chest, hackles raised like a pissed-off...wolf.

"This is how things are done in my pack! I don't like it either!"

"Then don't do it, fuck. Do as you like - I'll support you. It'll hurt my pride a bit if you decide to reject me but, Christ, I'll deal with it."

He couldn't hold back a growl. "I'll still stand with you against your pack - you oughta be free to choose your own life."

Spencer stared at him and Darren had no idea what he was thinking, so he soldiered on.

"Look, Spencer, if you reject me - damn, it would suck. Because - argh - it just would, alright? But I would get over it. My point is that you don't have to - don't have to do anything you don't want."

Why is he still not saying anything?

"What, do you do everything your pack and your family expect you to do? 'Course you don't!"

"But you want me to do what my mate expects?" Spencer asked, at last, arms dropping to his sides.

"Fuck no. I expect you to do what you want with your life, and then tell me to be okay with it - Mhmpf!"

He was cut off by Spencer's lips, pressed up against his in a desperate flurry. And it was really just as well, because Darren hadn't the faintest clue where he was going with that anyway.

And then they were snogging, Darren's arms flying up to catch Spencer's waist and crush him to his body across the gearstick, mouths opening greedily, tongues brushing, then entwining.

It was wet and hungry and he couldn't possibly get enough. He had no idea how this had happened, but he wasn't about to question the logic of it.

His mate's scent was in his nostrils and Darren growled into his mouth, licking in to get more of his taste - sweet and spicy like his scent - canines elongating, itching to nip at his lips.

He didn't remember closing his eyes but all he knew now was scent and taste and touch, his rough hands sliding over Spencer's soft skin, cupping his neck, finding their way in under his shirt.

Darren ached to hold him even closer.

Spencer pulled back a fraction of an inch and they both opened their eyes, a string of saliva stretching between them, breaking, no sound but both their laboured breathing.

I should not be this worked up over just one kiss.

"Who was that guy? The...pretty one?"

"Uh..." Darren didn't believe he was about to admit it out loud, but - "He's kind of my best friend."

Spencer let out a disgusted grunt. "He would be."

"Yeah, but - " he cleared his throat, "Between you and me, he's got a bit of a screw loose, so you might uh, want to steer clear. Bit - bit crazy, that one."

The younger werewolf narrowed his eyes. "I can take care of myself."

Darren gulped.

"I'm not leaving my pack," Spencer said defiantly, still breathing hard, black eyes fixed on Darren's golden brown.

"Well, I'm not leaving my pack."

"We have to be in the same pack!"

"Says who? Let's just do as we like, see how it goes."

"There are traditions - "

"Screw 'em. We're not much for traditions in this pack, if you'll believe it."

His mate snorted.

"Now I won't disrespect your pack - " Darren continued, "But we oughta do what we want. So - " He swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry -

" - D'you want me?"

Spencer turned towards him in the car, the narrow space suddenly very cramped. Darren could smell him clearly - his scent of spices and clothes and musk - and it still made his head spin, made him twitch in his pants.

He leaned instinctively closer, reacting to his mate's scent. Darren had always been close to his wolf nature, always sensitive to smells. And this one... Soft, strong, musky, comforting...everything.

Did Spencer react the same way to him, he wondered?

"Darren - from the moment I saw you walk past me in those filthy jeans - I have wanted you."

It made his head spin even worse. He had noticed him? Desired him?

In that moment, Spencer was very much an alpha werewolf, crowding Darren back, his wide-blown wolf eyes hungry in the small space between them, devouring him.

"I don't want to give up my life, my independence. But I would give up damn near anything else just to get you out of your clothes."

"Do you..." Darren rasped out of a suddenly bone-dry throat, his dick already hard - When did that happen? - in his jeans. "Want to come to my place?"

"Goddammit, yes!"

He threw himself back into Darren's arms, gripped his shoulders and kissed him fiercely. Darren's mind short-circuited.

Before even one coherent thought could pass through his mind - We are still parked in front of Ronan's house - Spencer spoke into his mouth, his breath a sweet, alluring puff of air.

"Take me home with you," he said, pulling back a fraction and looking at him with half-lidded eyes.

It was funny how those few words could make Darren's stomach do a little backflip.

"Fuck yes."