It had been little more than an hour and a half since he’d last looked at Jason’s face, but in that time, it seemed something had changed. A subtle shift in their relationship that Daryl wasn’t sure they could rectify.
Or if he wanted to, which was perhaps the scarier realisation.
Jason was attractive, there was no denying that. But Daryl saw attractive people on a daily basis and never felt the urge to walk up and run his hands across the soft stubble of their jaw to see how it felt under his fingers.
But he did now.
Wanted to lean in and run his nose up the column of Jason’s throat, breathe him in where his scent was strong. He closed his eyes for a second, imagining it.
“Daryl?” The uncertainty in Jason’s voice made Daryl look at him again, and whatever Jason saw in his expression brought a spot of colour to his cheeks and made him smile.
I need to stop this now.
This isn’t real.
The full moon was in less than three days; they’d been forced to interact in a way they wouldn’t normally. None of this was real.
Daryl had the utmost respect for the alpha council and everything they stood for, but at that precise moment, he wanted to give Alpha Cornell a piece of his mind for making him feel like this with her stupid fucking task.
“Daryl?” Jason tried again, voice that little bit rougher. Eyes a shade darker than they were before. He took a step towards him, and Daryl’s heart rate kicked up.
Tell him to stop.
Tell him to stay where he is.
Jason took another step closer. “We should talk about this.”
Daryl shook his head. “Nothing to talk about.”
“No?” Jason raised an eyebrow and took another step. “You’re harder to read than most shifters I know, but I recognise that look.” He closed his eyes and breathed in, then said softly, “And that scent.”
Fuck.
Daryl was hard. When the fuck had that happened?
No point denying anything, the evidence was apparently there for all to see and smell.
He shrugged, schooling his features and trying to appear nonchalant, as though this were an everyday occurrence for him. Nothing special. “We’re sharing a room, accidental erections were inevitable at some point.”
A laugh burst out of Jason, his eyes crinkling up at the corners, and he looked so young and happy for that split second, Daryl wanted nothing more than to wrap him in his arms and bask in it.
But that wasn’t who he was.
And it wasn’t what he did.
“Accidental erections?” Jason’s smile lingered, but his expression turned serious as he reached up to run his fingers along Daryl’s jaw. He looked uncertain, as though Daryl might slap his hand away at any second.
And that’s exactly what he should do—put a stop to whatever this was before it even started. But Jason’s touch was gentle, the pads of his fingers barely creating any pressure, and Daryl craved more.
He wanted Jason’s hands all over him.
Firm and demanding.
In a moment of weakness, he’d probably regret later, Daryl closed his eyes on a sigh and leaned a little into Jason’s hand. He hoped Jason took it for the permission it was, because he couldn’t say the words, couldn’t ask for something he knew was such a bad idea.
Jason moved until they were almost flush, and he slid his hand around to the back of Daryl’s neck, fingertips in his hair.
It felt so good, the grip firm enough to make Daryl groan. The warmth from Jason’s body was almost palpable, and Daryl relaxed, let himself sway forward, wanting to feel the solid body in front of him.
