These little wonders (Nate)

[Zephyr]

It’s been a couple days since he had been shot, and Silas was, once more, confined to bed. Earlier, he’d managed to convince Nate that he’d be fine to try some things out in bed and that his shoulder was near perfect…unfortunately, instead of getting either one of them off, the only thing he managed to do was rip his stitches. Fortunately though, they caught it before he could bleed on the sheets and Nate stitched him back up. Now though, Silas is banned from sex, showering, and getting out of bed.

He sits leaning against the headboard in only his boxers, glowering at Nate’s TV. Ever since Silas ripped his stitches, Nate was doing a pretty impressive impression of a leech and not leaving him alone for a second.

Speaking of leeches though, Silas hadn’t seen Matthias since the morning after the accident. He’s worried that the brat will skip town without letting Silas check his shoulder out. He realizes the hilarity of the thought that he would be in any shape to check out anyone’s shoulder, but he chooses not to acknowledge it. Because even if he’s laid up in bed with a bullet hole healing in his shoulder, he’s still a perfectly capable professional and the goddamn kid promised not to leave without letting Silas check his shoulder. He’s blatantly ignoring the fact that he’s actually worried about the fact that the kid is leaving over worrying about his shoulder specifically.

Silas doesn’t have many friends; he doesn’t let that many people in. Nate is the first in probably over fourteen years. But for some reason, the kid’s gotten a place in his heart, and even though he refuses to acknowledge it, he doesn’t want Matthias to leave. It isn’t what he has with Nate, this thing with Matthias…and it might not involve sex…anymore…but it’s good, and it’s something the crotchety surgeon is reluctant to let go of.

Still. There’s very little he can do about it confined to Nate’s bed like an invalid…even if the other werewolf has been coming up with new ways to distract him despite their little slip earlier in the day. So really, Matthias isn't even on his mind at the moment. Silas isn’t sure he can wheedle anymore sex out of Nate until his shoulder is completely healed, but there’s something to be said about lazy days in bed.

Tonight, they’re supposed to watch a movie. Silas isn’t exactly looking forward to the movie itself since Nathan has horrendous taste in movies. What he is looking forward is spending another night with him. Nate is a completely different person when they’re watching awful movies and lying around in bed. The terrible movie is a small sacrifice in the long run when he gets to see a side of Nate that no one else gets to see. And, even if he can’t be having sex right now, just lounging around doing nothing, as long as they’re together is almost as good.

Still, things wouldn’t be complete without a little manipulation, and even though Silas is respecting the fact that Nate doesn’t want to have sex until after he’s healed, he can still use what he has to get what he wants, right? With this thought in mind, Silas stretches over to Nate, stretching an arm out over the other man’s chest, lacing his fingers with Nate’s and mouthing wet kisses against his neck and jaw for a moment before taking his earlobe in his teeth and tugging lightly, a soft growl rumbling from his throat. Even if it's hard for Nathan to hold back, Silas can barely keep himself from taking more. Instead, he whispers into the man's ear, restrained want and lust heavy in his voice. “Are you gonna go make me some popcorn or what?” He laughs lightly into Nate’s neck, leaning his head on his neck for a moment before kissing his shoulder and squeezing his hand lightly. “What awful movie are we going to watch tonight?”

[♥ Nathan ♥]

Supernatural healing abilities are something to be lauded, and Nate has based too many aspects of his life around their existence, but it makes him slipshod and arrogant. Too willing to trust in Silas’ assessment of his own injuries, his forays into succumbing to the man’s charm and wandering hands end remarkably poorly – and in his opinion, Silas popping a stitch is the smallest of their problems. That Nate has managed to confine the man to the safety of his apartment is a surprising feat in itself, one that is trumped only by the slow realization that he simply likes Silas’ company. With or without certain perks he’d like to be indulging in. The surgeon has always been a friend, more than one of the nameless faces that haunt his bedroom and his mind, but there is something warmer here than that. Something comfortable. Something worth keeping around.

Still, after the morning’s mishap, Nate’s ruling is final: they are going to watch a goddamn movie, and Silas is going to shut up, keep his hands to himself, and like it.

It is a decree the surgeon sets about violating only seconds after Nate makes it, but the werewolf can’t find it in his heart to blame him – not with Silas leaning in close, teeth on his ear and breath on his neck. He lets go, giving in, and his quick exhale of indignation is cut off in a sharp hitch of his chest, a tilt of his head that reveals skin and trust in equal measure. The fingers of Nate’s hand, where they entwine with Silas’, clutch and tighten in the briefest moment of desperation; and with a little more effort he may have been willing to take risks and ignore his previous command, abandoning himself to the suggestion in that mouth.

Resistance wells up inside him, but it is the husky request for popcorn that at last shatters the spell of the moment, and Nate hisses between his teeth and shoves the man away as roughly as his wounded shoulder will allow. That Silas should have more of a command on his own libido is frustrating, but not so much as the knowledge that he had simply melted and bowed before the other man’s hands; he scowls, but the heat of the emotion is absent, a show put on to only hint at what Nate is truly displeased with. Nate disengages, pulling himself from the other werewolf’s embrace to reluctantly crawl out of bed.

”You’re getting worse than me, I swear. And it’s not awful,” he counters too quickly, coming off every bit as defensive as he is, ”it’s a classic.” A cult classic, true, and only for idiots like himself, but Nate has the nerve to pretend it sounds cultured – while knowing the film is anything but. ”But it’s a surprise. You’ll just have to wait, considering you want your damn popcorn so badly.” He pointedly takes the remote with him and waves his hand dismissively as he exits, leaving Silas with only the mind-numbing distraction of local primetime newscasts. Resident squirrel learns to waterski – details at six.

From the kitchen comes only the sound of the microwave, the scent of popcorn floating in on the drafts of air, and Nathan returns a few moments later with his arms full. The bowl of popcorn is placed carefully on his nightstand, and the werewolf eyes Silas up carefully before revealing what is held in the container in his opposite hand. Nate is not much of a cook, but nachos apparently fall within his realm of limited expertise; he settles to the bed beside Silas and holds the tray out, daring the man to take them.

”These are if you’re good,” he specifies, and the look he lands on the surgeon is both hard and playful. Nathan looms forward suddenly, catching Silas’ gaze between disheveled locks of black hair. ”…and if you get cheese on my sheets, I will fucking kill you.” He shifts back, produces the remote from seemingly nowhere, and reclines to the collection of pillows with the smug air of a man who is completely in control. The temptation of Silas beside him is one he can ignore (and one, he hopes, that is lessoned further by the addition of snacks and deliberately terrible cinematography), and as the opening credits flicker across the television screen, Nate dares to sidle in close.

”No touching. Watch the movie.” Sharing this side of himself – infinitely casual, indulging in hobbies – is notoriously difficult, but with Silas it seems to come easily. Nate may blame it on keeping the other man occupied, on making sure they are both distracted and engaged, but there are countless less personal ways he could have accomplished the same thing. The fact remains that he is lazily curled up in bed with a man he finds himself caring about more than is strictly sensible, doing something as domestic as making popcorn and watching a movie. It is not the way Nate spends most evenings, not anything close – but with Silas pressed against his side, the werewolf finds he can’t give a damn.

[Zephyr]

It’s an amazing revelation to the man, what kind of effect he can have on Nate without even really trying. Such an amazing revelation, in fact, that Silas can barely keep himself from laughing aloud when the other werewolf pushes him away. Silas goes without argument, but runs his fingers down the back of his hand in a purely affectionate gesture that he barely has to think about before Nate rolls out of bed and scowls at him.

It’s ridiculously endearing when Nate scowls at him. Mostly because he knows the other man isn’t really upset with him. But he beams up at him in affectionate amusement anyway. The doctor snorts at his words, settling back against the headboard. “You’ve said that about the other movies too, but each one was worse than the previous one.” He flashes Nate a solemn look then, one that is ridiculously serious looking, despite the circumstances and says with perfect gravity, “You have terrible taste in movies.” And he fixes Nate with a pointed look that is reduced to near panic when he sees the remote leaving with Nathan.

“You’re such a bitch!” He calls after Nate, settling back against the bed again with a huff, eyes focused on the news story, even though he isn’t really paying attention to it. News isn’t something Silas watches, just because he isn’t that interested in the goings on in the rest of the world. Mostly because it’s all the most depressing shit in the world, and Silas gets enough depressing crap at work. He doesn’t need it at home.

Just when he thinks his brain is going to fucking melt from the boredom that is news, Nate is back and Silas is just short of grabbing at the popcorn like a ten year old when his nose catches the distinctive scent of cheese. Eyes going wide, he eyes the other bowl hopefully. He reaches for them, catching Nate’s glare almost challengingly for a second. “I’m always good.” He replies with a snort, snatching at the bowl and settling it on his legs to eat before Nate finishes speaking. “God, you have that little faith in me? I’m hurt.” He doesn’t actually sound very hurt and settles back, eyes on the tv.

Actually resisting Nate is easier than he thought it would be. At least he doesn’t have to go without the other man’s presence completely. With Nate sliding in close after the movie starts, and Silas able to inhale his scent and know that he is still unwaveringly there, resisting what his body wants is actually easy, especially with Nate’s skin pressed against the line of his arm. It’s easy to focus on the movie now, and he offers Nate some nachos without really thinking about it, eyes still fixated on the screen.

Silas is as far from a movie connoisseur as one can get, but only ten minutes into the film, he’s practically choking on his nachos in his attempt not to laugh his ass off at the events going on on screen. “Jesus Christ, Nate.” He smiles widely, the grin a beaming look that radiates amusement when he fixes the other werewolf with a look. “This has got to be the most awful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” He looks back to the tv for a moment, still grinning helplessly before he cants his head to the side and considers his words. “Are there awards for bad cinema? If there are, I think this one has to have won at least fifty of them.”

Even though it’s awful, he’s honestly enjoying it, and being in Nathan’s presence makes it better. So Silas just presses up tighter against him, stretching out a hand to let it rest companionably on the other man’s thigh.