Trials of the Bitten

Part 22

His heart was still pounding as he walked upstairs. Martin grimaced, rubbing his chest like it would stop the weird set of feelings that were running through him. Never before had he felt so conflicted over someone. He liked Nick. Nick was fun to hang with. Only the guy annoyed the hell out of him and half the time Martin wanted to hit him over the head. He seemed to simultaneously want to be in the same room as him and not be so. The question was, was the conflict between his wolf? Or was this a completely human thing that he'd just never actually experienced before?

Martin exhaled and ran his fingers through his hair, gripping it at the base of his neck in frustration. As he reached the top of the house, he listened carefully for a moment. He still wasn't a hundred percent sure just what was going on in the adults' bedroom lives and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. Still, he couldn't hear anything strange behind the innocent looking door. 

Counting to ten mentally, Martin knocked on the door hesitantly, uncertain as to what he was going to find behind it.  "Come in," Dominic called, and Martin slipped into the room, trying not to look too surprised by what he found. 

The room itself was almost a copy of Dominic's room only the colours were rich reds and golds. The wardrobe was practically overflowing with clothes and the distinct scent of Sarah's perfume was easy to smell. In fact, ignoring Leia's room, this room was probably the most feminine in the house, with small little features that made it clear this was the haven of the family's matriarch. Throw pillows were scattered about and photos of the family were dotted about on the surfaces. 

Then, there were the men. Martin could only hope he wasn't blushing at the sight of them. Dominic was still wearing the same clothes he'd been asleep in, which looked to be considerably more than Virgil and Greg. Both who were just in boxers and slumped over each other and Dominic in a friendly fashion. Flesh against flesh, scars against scars, muscles covering all three of the men and not an inch of fat to be seen. They looked almost like a photo from an underwear commercial in the gay magazine. Only Virgil's facial scars were possibly a little to graphic for that, though the man was interesting still wearing his eye patch.

Dominic patted the bed next to him, inches from were Greg was lying partly over his legs.  "Come over here cub," he ordered gently.

"You wanted to see me...?" asked Martin, looking warily at Gregory warily but he crept forward. He was safe here, he knew that. It didn't take the slight fear that things could change out of him nor the other fear that he might start reacting to scenes in other ways.  He sat down gingerly on the very edge of the bed, mentally picturing disgusting things to stop his blood flow going to places it wasn't wanted. 

"Yes," Dominic agreed, a hand grabbed his top and tugging him over into the pile. Martin landed laying against Dominic's legs, with Greg's head close to his waist, the man's hair brushing against his top as the heat from Dominic body pressed to Martin's side. "We can't let you go out to town yet," the man commented, petting Martin's hair gently as Martin tried to not blush. "It's too close to the next moon for us to risk you losing control," he explained gently. 

"But..." Martin looked up with pleading eyes. "It's just for an hour or so!" he tried, frowning. "I'm bored here!" he complained, not sure really sure why he was attempting this. He knew. He had known they weren't going to let him out. He understood why too. The moon was far too close for them to risk him in a potentially stressful situation and that was before you added in the whole prisoner factor. And yet something inside of him didn't want to take this so easily. He'd behaved! He'd been good this whole time, ignoring a few acts. Couldn't they throw him a bone at least?