I HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU

October 24th, xxxx

PRECIOUS NODS LIKE A dysfunctional marionette, humming in all the right places at the Elder talking—no, gushing about his daughter-in-law, complaining about health issues, room temperature issues, the 'bully' Doc and other things he isn't listening to.

It's in this state of (sympathizing) agreeing with the Elder's plight that his eyes trails off, spotting Kamil and the dog entering the Winter Forest holding a notebook, wearing his infamous transparent shirt that leaves nothing to the imagination.

Precious thinks about what transpired last night, a blush powdering on his cheeks.

He blinks and sighs softly remembering the feel of Kamil's skin on his fingertips, the wild look in his eyes as he orgasms, the spice scent of him, his voice when he grunts and moans, when he speaks in his ear, the tight grip in his hair.

His vision gets blurry for a sec and he fatally realizes that he's getting aroused. Wrapping up the conversation, Precious takes off after the Major finding him not too far from the entrance but a bit to the wayside measuring something.

Precious stands and watch for a while, thinking that it'll be funny to sneak up behind him, wrap his arms around his waist and kiss his neck. But no, he shakes his head, banishing sneaking up behind him—for safety reasons.

[But not the rest, yeah?]

"Any new traps I should know about?"

Kamil doesn't turn around, continuing his work diligently. The dog, however doesn't adhere to diligence and runs, yapping around him. Dropping to a crouch, she quietens when he scratches her, licking his hand like it's candy.

"You look good on your knees."

Raised his head to find Kamil ogling him like fine wine and the smile he reserves for his blue eyes spreads. "If you're hoping to make me flustered, you need to try harder than that."

"It's an observation. I can't make you aroused around the dog. She's good company, your presence already distracts her we don't want your arousal barking up a commotion."

"It's cute you're trying so hard."

Getting to his feet, he grins when Kamil's eyes doesn't sway from him. "You have something to say, say it."

Kamil returns the smile, whistles at the dog and continues his perusal. At a safe distance Precious follows, content with just watching him secure or check on his traps. At times, he'll write in the small pocketbook but it appears everything's dandy.

It's the first time Precious is seeing him at work and he has to say, there's something sexy seeing a focused Shifter at work. Bonus that when he bends, he's privy to an exposed back and tight butt.

Then laughs abruptly, the sound making Kamil glance back with a quizzical What

"I just remembered when you said my tie is tighter than your ass," a lecherous stare, "But from this angle, I disagree."

Kamil comes forward and loosens the tie. "You wear wine a lot."

Precious says nothing, very content to just be near him, to smell the mint in his hair. "Then again, it suits you. Brings out your skin, pops out your eyes. I used to think they were all the same but studying you like I do quickly realized that wine comes in different shades too."

Unbuttons a button, reflects and unbuttons another. "Actually, I thought I was studying you because of your clothes but along the line I also realized I watch you because I had a crush on you."

Precious rears his head back surprised at the news. "You had a crush on me?"

"Have. I think everyone does," steps back. "Everyone definitely does. Your likeability is so high it has no sense of gravity."

A ghost of a touch on his chin, Kamil turns around and continues his work but Precious wants to continue the crush on you conversation, feeling like he's been led through rose petals floor, big warm hand in his. Kamil's big warm hand in his.

"You have a crush on me? When? How? Why?"

"Well, I know how, don't know when and like I said, you're likeable," whirls on him so quickly he stumbles and Kamil throws an arm around his waist.

"Now that you're jogging up my brain, I think I've had the crush a while. A long time a while," a casual shrug, "It's a fun thing to think about. A constant fun thing."

"You think about me?"

"Occasionally," blue eyes drops to his lips, licks his own lips and in a husky voice says, "Now, I dream about you and let me tell you, it's not fun. It's downright steamy."

He lets go and fingers a curl, watching it slip smoothly between his finger. "The dog's awfully quiet. That's our cue to leave before we stop breathing."

Grabbing his hand and starting towards the exit but Precious mind is in shambles mostly because he was right; Kamil's hand is big and warm and he's acting as if this is all normal. Their hands entwined.

"I think the last time we held hands must be when we were thirteen. Rather, I was thirteen."

Kamil stops, he does too. Says nothing for a while, gaze fixed on a tree that Precious thinks he's listening for something but he peeks over, blue eyes shining.

"That's not the last time."

A furrow of brows, the fuzzy memory not as blurry as the confusion suggests. "It's not? Maybe you were thirteen then."

"Well, it was the last time before the last time."

"I don't understand."

Kamil only shakes his head.

"But it was the last time, right?"

"...I guess it was. The last last time might've been my imagination. Like I said, I frequently think about you."

He tugs and drags him forward. Precious notice a shift in his mood but it's gone before he can name it. He can see his breath, puffing like ringlets, shaped like circle dancers with elaborate shaking, gesturing and waving.

Last night reminded Precious of so many things; of a time not so long ago—maybe three, maybe five, maybe more—when he used to relax into himself, when he could think about who he is, what he likes but that has changed so drastically over the years that when he is alone, his mind is a jumble, a jumbling jungle.

He won't relax into himself, he won't think about who he is, what he likes because he can't, he mustn't.

However, ever since two days ago when Kamil just popped open that can of doubts without knowing the effect on him, Precious had to force himself, look around himself and notice that nothing changed.

Nobody died. He didn't change. Nothing wilted, corpses didn't rise, nobody laughed. Kamil didn't laugh. In fact, he'd been interested in the answer, too interested, maybe invested if last night is anything to go by.

He halts, Kamil does too. The dog at their heel does the same but by her frustrated whine, she's definitely not happy about it.

"I've being an Alpha seven years. In all those years, I haven't let myself get carried away," drops his hand from Kamil who's staring at him now, "I do what I'm supposed to do. I lead and that's fine. On a good day, I'll even say I'm a terrific leader."

"You—"

"But ever since our fateful conversation, I've found myself wishing about things I can't have. Because that line of thinking is dangerous. That line of thinking is selfish."

Pausing, he cleans sweaty palms on his trousers and continues. "You're making it difficult to remember that."

"I am?"

"Yes, Kamil, you are. I'm pent-up, frustrated... sexually and as the terrific leader I sometimes am, I must not be that. I must not be swallowed up by my emotions or else I'll make a mistake."

Expelling a huge sigh from his chest, the circling dancers are rounder and fatter but floats away easily like smoke. "My mate to be is a flaming sub. That's why I said I can't be. It won't work but it must. I will make it work."

"Dilemma."

"That's why I can't be dreaming about you or thinking about you because you're the kind of..." Glancing away, he blows out a breath and tries again. "But even I must admit that denying my..."

"Desires?"

"Limitations is a fatal flaw."

Seeing anxious eyes daft around impatient to get out of the Forest, they resume walking, side-by-side this time around.

"Which is why I don't want you to think I'm leading you on. I'm not. Or teasing you. I do want you. Want to kiss you," they stop walking at the same time to face each other.

"I know it won't happen—"

"Oh," a self-deprecating chuckle, "It will."

Kamil's features freezes, processing. His favourite Major. Precious smiles to himself at the moniker, thumbing a pad across his bottom lip.

"I want to kiss you."

".... Now?"

"No. One of these days, Kamil, I want you to crash into me, catch me unaware. I want you to kiss me so hard I forget my name and only remember yours."

His favourite Major stands there like a fool, dumbstruck as he bumps him on the nose and leaves.