Is that it? Are they simply embarrassed about a perceived lack of experience? Corrigan can feel in his bones that it's more, that there's something huge and dark and all-encompassing behind that shaky little smile. He can sense it like he'd been able to sense Miles's impending treachery -- something dangerous threatening his pack. Not from Kurt (never, they'd never hurt any of the wolves, he knows that just as bone-deep), but still something they carry, hidden with compliant words and a forced smile. Miles, at least, could be physically attacked and chased away.

Corrigan doesn't know what to do with something invisible, something that haunts every move his mate makes.

So he focuses on what he can do -- grabbing the powdered whatsit (helpfully labeled with a smiling face, since Naseer knows his alpha doesn't do great with written words) and a salve made from the same plant, then crossing back to the couch. The powdered remedy is mixed into the stew, the salve opened and scooped carefully into one hand, rubbed between Corrigan’s big palms to warm it.

"Kurt," he begins, nudging their long thick braid to one side so he can slowly spread the salve over the bite marks -- both those of claiming and those of frenetic passion. "I have been waiting my entire life to be able to take care of you. It's not a burden. It's my pleasure." Then he nods towards the stew. "You should eat. Tell me if it's too hot."