If Corrigan had thought, even for a moment, that Kurt's effect on him would be less potent without the dizzying effects of rut, he definitely doesn't think that now. They blink up at him with those huge, bright eyes, a shade of blue he's only ever seen on the brightest summer days, in the deepest part of the sky, and Corrigan can feel the whole world shudder. Kurt could ask him anything, command him, plead him, and he'd do it. Anything. Everything.
An Alpha exists for their pack, to protect and guide and lead it, to give it their life, if need be. But from that exact second, Corrigan’s soul is held in the shaky hands of someone he's known for less than a day, someone who can't even conceive of the power they now have. It's a staggering, dizzying thing, and Corrigan actually has to glance away to collect himself for a moment.
"Mmmm, it depends," he begins, focusing on rubbing the salve into the wounds ringing Kurt's neck. He knows from experience that it'll tingle, then warm, replacing any lingering aches with a loose, relaxed feeling. The pack keeps a lot of it on hand, both for its healing properties and for more...frivolous pursuits. Speaking of, Corrigan waits until Kurt's paused in their eating, not wanting to jostle them while holding hot stew. Then he scoops them back on his lap, one hand behind their thigh, tugging it towards their chest, while his salve-slick hand slips down to stroke over their hole -- still warm and swollen to the touch, easily accepting the wolf's fingers inside.
Speaking like he hadn't suddenly started fingering them mid-conversatiob -- casual, calm, unhurried -- Corrigan continues: "You won't be expected to hunt or gather supplies, not unless you want to. Especially at the beginning, you'll stay close to the den, help keep it in order, maybe get Naseer to actually throw away some of the things he has hoarded in the attic." He chuckles fondly, like he doesn't have two fingers buried to the knuckle inside Kurt, moving in slow, soothing circles, rubbing the salve in. They had said "down there" hurt the most, right? He's helping!
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An Alpha exists for their pack, to protect and guide and lead it, to give it their life, if need be. But from that exact second, Corrigan’s soul is held in the shaky hands of someone he's known for less than a day, someone who can't even conceive of the power they now have. It's a staggering, dizzying thing, and Corrigan actually has to glance away to collect himself for a moment.
"Mmmm, it depends," he begins, focusing on rubbing the salve into the wounds ringing Kurt's neck. He knows from experience that it'll tingle, then warm, replacing any lingering aches with a loose, relaxed feeling. The pack keeps a lot of it on hand, both for its healing properties and for more...frivolous pursuits. Speaking of, Corrigan waits until Kurt's paused in their eating, not wanting to jostle them while holding hot stew. Then he scoops them back on his lap, one hand behind their thigh, tugging it towards their chest, while his salve-slick hand slips down to stroke over their hole -- still warm and swollen to the touch, easily accepting the wolf's fingers inside.
Speaking like he hadn't suddenly started fingering them mid-conversatiob -- casual, calm, unhurried -- Corrigan continues: "You won't be expected to hunt or gather supplies, not unless you want to. Especially at the beginning, you'll stay close to the den, help keep it in order, maybe get Naseer to actually throw away some of the things he has hoarded in the attic." He chuckles fondly, like he doesn't have two fingers buried to the knuckle inside Kurt, moving in slow, soothing circles, rubbing the salve in. They had said "down there" hurt the most, right? He's helping!