Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rain tapped steadily against the windowpanes of the Swan residence in Forks, Washington. The foggy skies blanketing the town like a mother covering her child for the night, a sort of melancholic peace that the residents of Forks had called home. But today? Something, or well, someone would be disrupting that tranquil peace.

Dorian Swan

Charlie stood at the kitchen island with Bella and Sue, sipping his black coffee, his expression a mix of two emotions he hadn't felt in a long time. Guilt and Hope. "He's coming today, right?" Sue, his current wife, asked as she rubbed a gentle hand on his shoulders. Charlie nodded, fingers around his coffee mug tight, "Yep. Should be around noon.", with a quick glance at the stove clock, it was 11:30. A son, brother, and step-son to the Swan-Clearwater family. Charlie only felt guilty cause he had no clue Dorian existed till recently, and he had to learn through a fucking letter. Someone he had missed out on for years upon years. The letter consisted of some half-assed excuses and the mentions of a daughter--son. Dorian was a guy, not a woman; that he didn't even get to know about. Now twenty damn years later, they were going to be a big happy family. Hopefully. 

Bella took a soft breath, awkwardly excited to meet Dorian, and then everyone's thoughts were halted by the sound of tires on the gravel of the home's driveway. Charlie set his mug down so fast he nearly spilled it, "Oh God, he's here." 

The trio stepped out and was greeted with a solid black, beat up Ford Bronco and a figure of a man that looked almost like Charlie did when he was twenty, just tanner skin. Dorian was wearing a green and black flannel, dark blue jeans with black Converse. Hair tousled, shaggy wolf cut, and ocean blue eyes that Bella nor Charlie had. "Hi, you must be Dorian. I'm Sue, Charlies wife." Thank God for Sue, Charlie and Bella were too awkward. The subtle vulnerability in Dorian's eyes softened, "Yeah, that's me alright. It's uh, finally nice to meet you all, I guess." there was a southern lithe to his accent, having been raised in Georgia, Dorian would definitely be an odd one out. "Well, come in, kid. No need for you to stand out there in the cold." Charlie offered a smile, coping with the fact that his son was standing in-front of him. Once Dorian got onto the creaky old porch, Charlie just hugged him, it was a good minute before Dorian reciprocated it. The hug ended and the four went into the old but loved in home, "I'm Bella, your half-sister, it's good to not be the only kid in this family. Sue has two other kids from her old marriage but they stay on the Rez." Bella smiled at me, at least they were all as awkward as one another, but then again, this didn't happen everyday either. 

“So….,” Charlie started, sitting beside Sue on a old green couch, “Wanna tell us about yourself?”. Dorian leaned back in a worn-out leather chair, “Sure. Grew up in Georgia, Mom was…well, she was complicated growing up. I work as a EMT, graduated college with a degree in Art.” Dorian’s gaze softened as he noticed Bella’s sympathetic smile, “Mom wasn’t that bad, she was just too secretive and untrusting.” Dorian added with a shrug. As the day stretch don, it was filled with small talk, shared stories, and questions were answered. 

While Sue and CHarlie made dinner and did their thing, Bella and Dorian chilled in the livingroom, “Ya know, i had to explain to dad about your identity, he didn’t really understand what being trans meant.” Bella chuckled quietly and Dorian smiled, “Damn, at least he’s been pretty on-top of calling me a guy, but then again, none of you knew me as a girl so.” 

Bella picked at some invisible fuzz on the loveseat, “What do you think of Forks so far?”, Dorian mused for a minute before answering “Reminds me of a haunted Salad. It’s too quiet, green, and bland.”. Bella smiled and nodded, “That's pretty accurate, you’re not wrong.”. “It’s peaceful though, something I need more than the chaos of Georgia.”, “It can get crazy here, I promise. Not all the folks here are all clean cut and simple. The Quileute Boys are the ones that like to cause chaos, but so does my boyfriend and his family.”

~~

The morning sun peeked through the small crack in the guest room windows, a soft knock rang out before Bella peeked in, finding Dorian awake, wet hair and clothes to go out in, “So Charlie is at work, Sue’s on the Rez, I was thinking we could go out? I can take you to the beach, a few friends I think you’d mesh well with.” 

“Hm? Yeah, sure. Why not, it’ll be good to see the town.” Dorian agreed, a hint of sleep still dragging through his voice. The drive down was quiet, scenic even as they rode in Dorian’s bronco, the trees were a solid wall on each side, making some form of a tunnel, the radio playing soft music that kept the awkwardness away. By the time they pulled up to the beach, the air was thick with salt water and bonfire smoke. “Holy cow, this place is beautiful.” Dorian smiled as he parked and got out, joining Bella at the front of the SUV. “Wait till you meet the boys and Leah, they’re….. Unique.” Bella mused as she seen a lumbering figure headed their way, “Bella!” the man called out and Bella returned it, “Jake.” 

Jake finally got to the duo and arched an eyebrow to Dorian, “And who is this?”, “Jake, this is Dorian, my brother.”. "Nice to meet you, man. Welcome to Forks and the Rez." Jake's smile was soft, Dorian trailed behind Bella and Jake as they talked. Once they got to the group, introductions were made quickly and God, was there a lot of them. Sam, Paul, Quil, Leah, Embry, and Seth, the others were too far out in the water or doing their own thing away from the group. It was easy to see the bonds between them all, but there was a sharpness to their eyes, an edge that hinted at deep, something more... Primal. Dorian could tell the group around him was one big family, a pack, if you will. There was no questions, no staring, just quiet acceptance from the boys and Leah. Later, the boys decided to split and play frisbee on the white sands of La Push, Bella, Dorian, and Leah hung back, deciding that watching the boys be idiots was a lot better. Dorian squinted as he watched Jake and Paul start rolling around in the sand, wrestling like big ass idiots. "Are they all just supernaturally jacked or is that my imagination?" Dorian mused as Leah and Bella shared a laugh, Bella let out a soft snort before answering, "You have no clue.", "That a yes?" Dorian looked between the two girls, Leah nodded but Bella didn't answer outright, "If you stick around long enough then you'll see. Things I can't explain just yet."

Dorian nodded, "Well, then I will definitely be looking at apartments then." The girls smiled, and Leah seemed the type to be snarky as hell, but she seemed chill, relaxed. "Thanks, for not making me feel like a stranger, Bella. I'm sure our whole situation is crazy as hell, but it's appreciated that you're not being weird about it.", Bella's voice was soft, Leah was getting up to join the others, "You never really felt like a stranger honestly. Not after yesterday." 

Dorian smiled as he leaned against the driftwood log, feeling more welcomed in a place he had only just stepped into, and would be learning so, so much more.

Chapter Text

The mist was heavier in the morning, low and curling like a dragon's smoke. Paul liked days like this, it made him feel more connected to his wolf side, the wild and primal side of him. These were the kinda days he could actually relax and breathe. He stood just beyond the tree line near the beach, taking in the dark but soft waves on the shoreline. Patrol rotations had been quiet for the last few days, as if the storm was waiting for the calm to finish up. No signs of new vampires besides the Cullens, no signs of other weirder scents, yet Paul felt compelled to stay where he was. 

The last few days had been.... interesting to say the least, weird even. Not because of the usual wolf bullshit in the pack, but because of a certain person. 

Dorian God damn Swan.

He hadn't even realized how bad he was staring that first day till Sam mentally nudged him to calm down. Paul hadn't said anything about it, not to himself, and damn sure not to anyone else. What was there to say? My imprint is a fucking man, and one that's too gentle for someone like me? Yeah. Definitely made sense. Even so, the moment Paul had seen those ocean blue eyes and smelled the scent of wet moss and whiskey, he was a goner, mentally at least. His world had titled, focusing only on the new Swan boy as something deeper than the usual wolf bullshit. Paul knew the signs, but he refused to accept it, or barely acknowledge it. Imprinting was not for men like him, not for men that knew what anger was more than love. Imprinting was for men like Jared or Sam, men that were soft when it was needed and knew when to be soft. Paul wasn't soft. He didn't ever want the bond, especially not with another man, let alone Dorian.

Paul was straight. He. Liked. Women. Only. He's said it his whole life, to everyone, to himself. Sadly here he was, losing sleep over a soft-voiced Southern man that had the best damn eyes Paul had ever seen. Stress. That's what it was, it had to be. The Pack tensions between Jake and Sam were getting worse by the week at least, so it made perfect sense as to why he was looking at options he couldn't have, shouldn't have. He wasn't gay, but even as he repeated that to himself, the fight clawing in his chest, the same fight he had been pushing down since he was a high schooler, the same fight he smothered each time he looked too long at the others in locker rooms or the tension in his shoulders when someone would tell him that he'd find a good woman. The sound of running shook him from his thoughts and he looked back to the white sands of the beach, Dorian was in his own world, taking a run. The male wore a muscle tee and black joggers, the hair in a loose bun so it kept out of his eyes. God, Paul would kill to be the one that pulls that hair while Dorian- NOPE. No. Thought and image shut down, this was not the time to get all horn-dog. Paul felt his throat dry, pants get tight. Damn you Dorian. He didn't want to join his imprint on the run, but the feeling of making sure the man was safe and accompanied was too strong to fight off fully. So, he joined him. "Didn't take you for the type to do morning runs." Paul greeted, hoping Dorian wasn't weirded out. "Just got bored at home, needed fresh air." Dorian smiled, and that same smile was killing Paul. They ran side, close enough to be close, but not enough to crowd each other. 

"You like the silence too?" Dorian asked softly, as an openly gay man, he wasn't ashamed of his wandering eyes, besides Paul was a good looking man. Paul hummed his agreement, acting like he didn't feel Dorian's sharp eyes picking apart his body. While running together, Paul found it easier to breathe, like the world wasn't on his shoulders for once. The waves crashed in tune, which made a soft but welcoming noise in the silence between the two. Now, this silence wasn't uncomfortable, it was pleasant, like neither had felt the need to fill it in with bullshit the other wasn't interested in. Yet the questions bubbled out of Dorian anyways, "You don't talk a whole lot, do ya?". Paul felt a small twitch of his lip corner, "Most say I talk too much." the words causing a soft chuckle from Dorian, "Looks like I'm not most people then." 

"I'm assuming you're from around here originally?" another question slipping out the soft-spoken man, "Born and Raised on the Rez." Paul nodded, "Never left, and probably won't leave.". Dorian had the urge to ask why the man Infront of him assumed that, but instead redirected the conversation, "Must be nice, havin' roots like that." those words caused Paul to frown as they both paused at a rather ugly looking driftwood log to catch a break, "You don't?" which was answered with a shake of Dorian's head, hesitating almost before finally speaking, "My mom moved a lot. Never in one place too long, hell, I'm surprised I graduated high school at this point."  Paul wasn't going to apologize for that, one because it wasn't his problem, and two because Dorian had probably heard enough 'sorrys' in his life already, so he just kept quiet. The soft silence enveloped the duo once more, just simple coexistence. Then, the wind shifted, bringing Dorian's scent to Paul, wet moss, whiskey, and now the tang of sweat from running. It wasn't the usual scents he'd pick up from folks, it was personal, and the scent was making Paul have a fire under his skin. Not this. Not now. He could feel Dorian's eyes on him once more, but instead of the subtle checking-out, it was one of concern, "You okay?", Paul could feel his fists curl up before he could drop them, He just could not look away from the man in-front of him. Every nerve screamed at Paul to make Dorian submit, to claim, to just be his. Imprinting was not supposed to feel like this, it was supposed to be peaceful, still. 

Paul was straight, he didn't like men. This made no sense, He wasn't supposed to want this man. "I'm fine." his words were laced with an edge that was just asking for it to be questioned, but Dorian didn't do that, he simply nodded and turned, giving Paul his.... space? No one ever does that. Why did Dorian do that? Wasn't he curious, wasn't he wanting to pry? Paul couldn't tell if that pissed him off more or it made him relax. But when Dorian looked back to where Paul was, Paul was already halfway gone back into the woods. Dorian was a smart man, he knew when to wait and when to ask. 

Paul didn't come back to the Rez or the Pack House till last at night, not that they'd really care, just as long as he was okay. He could already hear their thoughts crowding him but he just grinded his molars and stepped inside the house, smell of cooked food, musk, and something distinctly wild hit him all at once, the smell of home. "You alright?" Sam's gruff voice greeted him as the other boys did their own thing. "Yeah, I just.... needed a break." which was acknowledged by a nod by the pack leader. "Well, just so you know, Paul. We wouldn't judge you if...," Sam gestured gently and Paul understood what he meant quickly.

"I'm not gay, Sam. Never have, never will be." He growled, more in defense than anger. They both knew he was lying to himself, it was just a matter of his pride and time. "You'll still be family, Paul. Nothing will ever change that." Sam stated, stern but trying to make a point. Sam knew of Paul's past and childhood, hell, they grew up together. Paul's dad wasn't a kind man, and unkind men usually kept old beliefs that shouldn't be put on kids so young. "You don't have to have it all figured out, man. I'm sure, Dorian doesn't need you to have it all figured out either. Do this on your terms, but make sure you don't wait too long." Sam patted his back before he went off to Emily, his wife and imprint. 

Sam was right. Paul didn't have to have it all down to a T, but what if that disorganization made Dorian leave him like everyone else did? What if Paul ended up scarring Dorian out of anger like Sam did Emily by accident? What if Paul was just a man that was supposed to be lonely? 

Those questions could wait, he had a pack to be an asshole too. At least they knew that's how Paul shown his love. 

Chapter Text

Forks was a lot colder than Dorian had expected, at this point he's been living in his favorite hoodie, even while the sun was out. Today, Bella was dragging Dorian to the Cullens, she wanted him to meet them as well as her long-term boyfriend, Edward. "I don't see why you're so damn determined to drag me to meet your boyfriend's family." Dorian muttered as he slid into Bella's old beat-up truck, "You're important to me, which means you're important to them, and their curious to see you." Bella started the engine, pulling out of Charlie's driveway, heading to an old road that went into the woods. "Curious to meet me or sacrifice me cult styled? You don't just randomly invite or drag someone into a house that's in the butt-fuck middle of the woods." Dorian groaned as his sister laughed at his choice of words. When they pulled up, Dorian had to admit to himself, the house looked good, expensive. It was also ghostly, like a haunted museum. Sleek and Modern, it was an architect's wet dream for sure. 

What Dorian wasn't expecting was how.... pale the family was, they were even paler than Bella, which to Dorian said something. The Cullen's residence was in the finer tastes for sure, but it was plain and dreary compared to Charlie's. "Oh my! You must be Dorian, Bella's brother. I'm Esme, Edward's mother, and this is Rosalie, Alice, Japser, Emmett and well of course Edward." the woman who looked like a god damn painting smile and introduced them all to Dorian who only offered a smile. "My husband, Carlisle, is at work at the hospital." 

"Wow, you do look like I've seen." Alice piped up, smiling. Dorian didn't know what that meant, but the small nudge from Bella told him to speak, "It's nice to meet y'all too." Dorian smiled, wondering what the actual fuck his sister was in. 'Yep, this isn't intimidating at all." he added which Bella elbowed him again with a look, and he shrugged. Rosalie was quiet in the judgemental way, Alice seemed not here fully, Jasper and Emmett were two walls of silence, but it was clear to see that Emmett was friendlier of the two, and Edward was...well Edward. It's like a fucking cult. Oh God what if their cannibals and I'm Bella's initiation sacrafice? Edward's face upticked in a smile, "Well Dorian, it is good to finally put a face to the person Bella has been talking about.", Dorian offered a small smile, feeling a headache coming on, the temp change was messing with him. Dammit, I'm probably gonna get a nose bleed...so fucking embarrassing. As the family talked and chatted, it wasn't long before Dorian felt the smell of blood in his nose, "Shit, i'm sorry y'all. I get nosebleeds when the temps change too fast." sadly a small trickle had hit the air, right as Dorian went to put his sleeve up, Alice had reached for Jasper, holding his arm "Jasper--" 

It was too late, Jasper's posture went to a slight crouch and as he moved towards Dorian, Edward was right in front of him, holding Jasper back, "Bella, get Dorian outside." and Dorian didn't even have a chance to question till he was outside. "Bells, that not fucking normal. At all!" Dorian grabbed her shoulders as they stood on the porch corner farthest from the front door. "Bella, that man looked like he wanted to fucking eat me.' Dorian hissed, wanting and needing a damn answer. "You weren't supposed to find out like this, D." she started, nibbling her bottom lip, "Just keep an open mind when I say this. Vampires." Dorian laughed at he like she was fucking nuts, "Oh yeah cause Vampires is totally what the fuck that was.", Bella sighed "I'm serious. Jasper's usually more composed, their good people. They drink animal blood, not human." "Bella, he just started at me like I was a big fucking juicy steak." Dorian argued. Edward came out of the front door, shoulders tensed, but his face relaxed, "We are vampires. Jasper's just newer to the vegan life than the rest of us are." Dorian had no words, just stares as the blood blotted on his top lip. "Let me get this right, this whole family is a vampire cult, coven? Whatever the hell it's called. What's next werewolves?"

The silence that followed answered that. "You're fucking kidding? Werewolves?" Dorian groaned, "Bella, Does dad even know?". Bella shook her head as Edward spoke, "It's a lot safer if he doesn't know. The world of vampires and Wolf shifters is too dangerous.". Dorian paced the small space with soft sighs wiping his face off, "This is literally right out of a fucking cheesy rom com, my sister is going to marry a vampire, werewolves are a god damn thing, and now I have Vamp-PTSD from someone i've only known for like what? A god damn hour? Here I had assumed it'd just be awkward as fuck to meet the family.." 

He turned to Bella and Edward, "So what? I'm apart of this supernatural inner circle or some shit now? If Charlie was in danger of knowing, that means i'm automatically in danger too. God damn, Forks is fucking crazy.", "At least you're one of us now, it means you can be told the truth at all times when we're around." Bella tried to shine some light, which helped a little but not much. "Well, who are the shifters then?" Dorian crossed his arms, now wanting any information he could get. "The Quileute Boys...." Bella trailed off with a soft 'haha don't be mad' smile. "The ones we hung out with at the beach yesterday? Those boys? I fucking knew something was up with them."

The world had changed for Dorian, and he wasn't going back. Not now. Not ever. 

Chapter Text

The beach looked really good at night. Stars sparkled in the sky, the embers from the fire were warm, the crash of the waves on the sand soothing. Dorian sighed as the warmth of the fire soaked into him, he was wearing his usual hoodie, but the coastal winds still had their sharp teeth when the wind shifted. He watched as the smoke curled upwards towards the stars and moon while laughter and drinks were shared from the Wolf pack. "Took you long enough, man." Jake greeted with a shit-eating grin as Dorian huffed "Ya know, just had to make sure my marbles were in one bag in case there's another Supernatural Exposure I'm not prepared for."

Jake couldn't help but laugh, "I swear, no blood, no fangs. Just drinks and stories here tonight." Dorian eventually settled beside Jake on the rotted out driftwood, catching the sight of the rest of the pack that was in their own little world's for the time being. Sam and Emily sat side by side, speaking lowly. Embry, Seth, and Quil were all play rough-housing. Jared was chatting with Jake's dad, Billy. Paul was sitting beside Leah, but both looked close to strangling each other. Dorian couldn't help the way he felt little knots forming in his lower stomach, Paul was a very handsome man, Dorian would never say differently either. Paul sat, arms crossed over his chest, similar to a child's pout on his lips, no greeting, not even a look to Dorian, but it was clear to see the man was tense as hell. Billy cleared his throat, slowly divulging into a Tribe History Story, speaking on the Quileute ancestors and the fighting towards the Pale Ones-Vampires-and the sacred duties that the ones blessed with the abilities to take on a wolf form had to keep their lands safe from vampires and really, any threats. Billy's tone was full of deep pride and sorrow which had Dorian intently captivated. As Billy finished, a soft hush ran along the group of them. 

Dorian kept quiet as the others went back to their previous conversations, so all of the people around Dorian, besides Billy, were wolf shifters. "You'll get used to it. The supernatural thing." Jake mused, smiling as he leaned towards Dorian, but then randomly backed off as he darted his eyes to Paul. Dorian sipped his beer, he didn't even like beer that much. He couldn't help that his eyes went to Paul, but he looked away just as fast. The older man hadn't looked his way once. "Can't believe my life turned to a supernatural soap opera." Dorian sighed, mindlessly peeling the label off of his beer bottle. Jake chuckled, "That's Forks for ya."

They all passed food around, but Dorian only nibbled on a potato, one of many that someone had resting in the coals at one point. Dorian found himself easily chatting with Embry and Seth over music and some newer modeled cars, he was thankful for the distraction from Paul's lack of acknowledgement. He tried his best to ignore Paul just as much as Paul was ignoring him, but it was hard too. At one point, he made a soft excuse and wandered off into the dark, needing a small reprieve from the gay butterflies that choked his stomach and the realization that he was actually in a world of Supernatural beings. The waves hissed at him and the salty air was soothing to his shot-out nerves. "You shouldn't be out here." the voice was sharp, defensive, and very much Paul. Dorian turned to find Paul standing only but a few feet away, arms still crossed like a child, eyes unreadable as he looked at Dorian. "Just needed a break, mate." he shrugged to the older man, but Paul didn't move nor care, "There's leeches out here, Fruit. We patrol and do our thing for a reason." 

Fruit? Dorian had a nickname from Paul? Holy shit. "You shouldn't be here, Fruit." Paul repeated which made Dorian frown, "At the bonfire or in Forks?" he didn't want to hear the wolf's response, but got it anyways. "Both." the word made Dorian scoff instinctively, "Why cause I'm human? Cause I don't measure up?". "No, Fruit. You don't, but you have folks that care about you." the last few words were silent, softer like Paul was trying to be open but not be outwardly open. The silence hung between them thick with emotions and tensions. This was the first conversation they have and Paul's telling him to leave? Why? That wasn't fair. "Being around us pr those leeches of Bella's... We aren't safe, Fruit. We could hurt you, kill you even." Paul took a step closer, fighting himself as he did."Paul, I didn't ask for this to be my life, okay? But it is, and i'll be damned if I leave it just as soon as I step into it."  Paul sighed, mentally enjoying Dorian's stubbornness, but it wasn't a good thought when he was trying to push Dorian away. The waves on the rocks were the only sound between the two as they stared, both silently egging the other to stand the fuck down. Thankfully, the sound of Sam's voice calling for them brought them out of it and the duo went back off to the group. Dorian could feel Paul's glare in the back of his head, his footsteps soft in the sand as he followed. For now, whatever this was between them would be enough at least. Dorian slid back to his spot beside Jake who gave him a grin that said he knew something the other male didn't, but right now Dorian had no energy for the cheeky wolf boy beside him. The fire was still going strong as the night worn on with laughs, teasing, and stories. 

It wasn't till 12 am that the fire was extinguished and the night was called to an end despite the complaints from Seth and Embry. Dorian watched as the coals simmered and slowly died out before he said his goodbyes and headed to his car, little did the man know, Paul was following. It was only just to make sure that his imprint got to his Bronco safely, nothing more, nothing less. Yet, even when Dorian got into the old shit-box, Paul couldn't find it in himself to leave that spot, or worse, follow Dorian home. Several bonds had been made today, no matter how fragile were still wordlessly made. There was no going back after tonight. 

Chapter Text

It was exactly 10:30 am when Jake drug Dorian out of bed and out to a hiking trail. They had talked about hanging out more, but not this damn early. The sky was cloudy with slivers of sun peeking out here and there, but not much. Dorian followed Jake, mostly awake, but at least he was dressed in hiking clothes. It was quiet in the woods-- peaceful even, which was unnerving and comforting. It took about an hour of turns and walking over branches to get to one of the spots that Jake wanted to show off, that being said, it was a natural small waterfall. 

"Damn. This is pretty." Dorian spoke through a yawn, "It's a good place, I come here when my brain needs to shut off for a few minutes.". Dorian couldn't help but agree, I'm definitely in the right spot then.", Jake chuckled as he looked at the water falling, "So I want to talk to you about something. Well, someone.", "And who would that be?" Dorian asked but then paused as Paul's name came out of Jake's mouth, but he didn't ask, only let Jake continue, "Look, I noticed that he hasn't said a whole lot to you, but that's just how Paul is. I want you to be careful, okay? He's....not exactly the easiest person to be around or get to know.", "Why? Cause of the whole wolf thing?" Dorian arched an eyebrow, not expecting this. Jake shook his head a little, "Not just that, but he's impulsive. Hot-headed. He can and will lose control quickly, and when he does--things get dangerous for anyone around him.". Dorian was baffled, sure, he had seen the tensions in Paul, that deep-rooted anger, but Dorian also seen the fear, the worry. "Dangerous how? This isn't fifty questions, Jake.", the other boy huffed and nodded, "He shifts, snaps, goes full wolf like it's no-ones business. It doesn't take much either. Everyone has a snapping point and temper, but Paul's? His is nearly nonexistent. He's volatile, unpredictable, arrogant most days... and he doesn't think about the consequences half the time." 

Dorian let those words settle into his mind. Dangerous. Volatile. But he didn't see Paul like that. Paul was an asshole, but everyone could be. "He's just guarded, Jake. The man isn't heartless.", Jake's eyebrows raised, surprised to hear Dorian defending Paul. "I never said he was heartless. Just...damaged is the best way to put it. He's hurt people before, not physically, but that doesn't matter to me. Also you are..... well, you. You're not like us. You're sensitive, soft, and care a lot. Paul is the type to steamroll and break people like you without even knowing it. I just don't want to see you get into something you will find yourself never leaving without force.". Dorian appreciated the sentiment but he didn't enjoy how Jake was talking about his own pack mate. "That's sweet but also very condescending, Jake. I don't need a guard dog, ya know. I'm happy that you want to protect me and I appreciate it, but I'm also grown man. I've had worse than Paul, I think i'll be able to handle it." Jake was skeptical over the man's words, but didn't fight it as Dorian continued, "He might be angry, and an asshole, but he's a good man, I can see that. He probably just doesn't know how to show it properly. He doesn't need judgement and sneers, he needs someone that can handle it and still be there for him. By no means am I saying I know him more than any of you, but I know how it feels to be so wrapped up in dark shit that I couldn't even remember what a hug was, or to be scared to show the good parts when all anyone has seen you as is a bad dog.", Jake sighed, feeling the need to cut in, "Dorian, he doesn't deserve that kind of benefit of the doubt. He's not some misunderstood kid, he's a grown man that's a ticking time bomb." 

"And sometimes time bombs need someone that sees them for who they can be and not what they are." Dorian argued right before a twig snapped, but the two boys seen nothing. Just the woods and the birds flittering around while chirping. Jake huffed, "Come on, we got one more stop." and Dorian nodded, starting to follow.

~~

Later that afternoon, Paul sat alone in the cliffs the duo had evacuated earlier, Dorian's words still swimming on repeat in his mind. He might be angry, and an asshole, but he's a good man, I can see that. and time bombs need someone that sees them for who they can be and not what they are. Paul had heard the rest of it, but those two struck out the most. He was used to Jake's bullshit by now, so he wasn't as phased by it, but he didn't like that Jake was talking so freely about him to Dorian. Paul still wasn't even sure why he had followed them in the first place, maybe a discreet attempt to be closer to Dorian. He had expected Dorian to heed Jake's warnings, he didn't expect the man to be so defensive over Paul, to not accept the face value of those words. He chose compassion and an outlook before he'd do that. Paul hated compassion, or maybe it was the fear of someone actually caring and potentially leaving him, besides the whole being openly gay thing. He was still struggling with that too. 

He clenched his firsts together, Dorian didn't have a God damn clue on what he was talking about. He didn't know the guilt, the fear, nor the anger that flared under Paul's skin till it turned to him phasing out of control. But..... Dorian had seen him, seen something in him that the others didn't, and that scared Paul. It unsettled him more than any fight or any shitty word he had said before to anyone. 

How could someone so soft as Dorian want an asshole like Paul? It wasn't possible. Not the slightest. It made no sense, wouldn't Dorian prefer someone on the softer side? Someone that didn't have hands rough from fighting or breaking things? Dorian deserved someone like Seth or Embry, Fruit didn't deserve someone that'd rip it open like Paul would do. 

~~

Jake didn't argue his point anymore, he could tell Dorian wasn't going to change his mind. Dorian knew he wouldn't change it either, in his heart he knew he wasn't afraid of Paul. Not in the slightest. He'd never be.

That night as Dorian settled into his room at Charlie's, his mind replayed the conversation between him and Jake. The way Jake was worried, looking out for him as if he was a little brother despite Jake being a year younger. Dorian still appreciated the sentiment, but he knew what he wanted. He wanted Paul, for some deep reason he couldn't understand, just that it had felt right. Somehow, someway, Paul was his, just as much as he was Paul's, even if the stubborn ass bastard wouldn't admit it. Dorian was now riffling through  ideas on how to get closer to Paul, yet all seemed either too much or too little. Paul was the type to be subtle on his own terms, not loud in love or feelings besides anger and hate. Dorian had a feeling like if he took a chance and kissed the man, he'd get the shit slapped out of him. He let out a low groan, frustrated and confused. He didn't want to push Paul, but the game of subtle Wolf and Fawn was killing him. 

Paul was always around, yet never outright acknowledged unless it was just them. Which was odd, it was obvious the others knew or had a feeling that Paul liked men, so why didn't Paul have the confidence to come out and be open? Thank God Google was everyone's best friend. Dorian typed into the search bar

Forks Quileute Tribe, Lahote. 

What he wasn't expecting was to find old police and news clippings from the Forks Police Department. Good lord. As Dorian read, he learned that there was several instances in Paul's childhood and teen years where the police, and often Charlie, had to come out there for spousal disputes, assaults, and child endangerments. Damn, no wonder why Paul was so angry, or....it wasn't as much as anger. It was most likely fear, fear of becoming his father and hurting anyone he deeply cared about. The fear only changed to anger cause it was easier to push away than let in. He could feel his heart crumbling as the report numbers rose to the double digits, poor baby was all Dorian could think. Some of the reports labeled out a few injuries towards Paul and his mother, and then the obituary of Paul's mom pulled up. She was absolutely beautiful. It was hard to think a woman like that had let this be her life, but love does crazy things and when kids are in the mix, it was harder to leave. The reports were dated closer and closer after her passing, which meant that his mom probably shielded Paul from what she could more than he knew. 

his dad hadn't just beat him or verbally abused him, his father broke him. Dorian sighed, feeling shaky from a medical report that he had just read. Four bones bruised and cracked in all different places. There was a few photos of teen Paul, black eye, cut lips, back full of lashes. If Dorian could, he'd be running out the door and to the Rez, his skin was itching to go and comfort the man even if he was out of the situation now. Thankfully, he found Paul's father's obituary, he had died when Paul was in highschool? Jesus fucking Christ, Paul didn't have a reprieve for years till he was an adult and already so messed up. 

Dorian closed the app out and shook his head, that was it, he was going to be there for Paul no matter what. No matter the harsh words, the fighting, he was gonna be there for him and Paul was just going to have to suck it the fuck up. 

Chapter Text

The sun filtered through the tall pines around the Pack House, casting shadows on the dirt paths that lead to it. The pack had gathered for a late lunch outside after the usual morning patrols, and Bella had dragged Dorian along--mostly due to Jake's consistent insistence to bring him. The smell of fresh meats, warm bread, and natural herbs wove in the air and out the back door towards where everyone was. Laughter and teasing echoed around the space as the wolves joked and teased each other to hell, just like one big family. Dorian lingered in one of the chairs that had some shade, watching them and Paul with a fond awe and the sense of being where he should be settled on his shoulders. It was the family he never had. The stupid jokes, the older brothern advice, and the taunts till a playful fight had broken out. Chaos and so filled with love and loyalty it hardly lacked even when there was actual tensions. 

Paul was leaning to the side, more the one to watch than banter unless it was with Sam. Bella, who was perched beside Jake, and sadly trying to be funny, "You know, Paul. Smiling doesn't cost anything, you should try it." Paul scuffed, but there wasn't any amusement in his face, unless you looked in his eyes deeper, "Thanks, Bella. I'd ask for your advice on how to, but I'm afraid I'd just end up with a coma from all the passive aggression." Dorian was the only one that smiled, and as he looked around he realized everyone had gotten quiet. Jake, who had been in the middle of a conversation with Paul turned, "What the hell did you just say?". Bella tried to speak up, "Jake, it's fine, it's not--" "No Bells, Not today. Don't ever talk to her like that again, Paul. Not here. Not ever.". Paul didn't back down, which Dorian didn't see what the problem was, the two were joking, "She dishes it out just fine, but when she gets it back, you want to act like she's something fragile?" Jake growled at the words, "She's a guest, Paul. My best friend, show some fucking respect for once in your life." Dorian could see the walls building up in Paul's mind, "Or what, Jake? Gonna lecture me to death?" 

It happens too fast for even Sam to stop it, Jake crossed the small patch of grass and his fist connected to Paul's jaw without a second thought. Paul reeled back, more pissed than he should've been before he slammed Jake down to the dirt. The two were a pure tangle of fists, growls, and snaps. Sam didn't let the others break it up, "It'll just be better to let them do it themselves. We'll get hurt in the process.". Even then, it was too late, Paul's shivered, body coiled with the heat of a wolf shift. A growl ripping through his throat as clothes ripped, bones popped in soft places; in less than five minutes, he was now a hulking silver wolf with dark eyes that shown pure anger and hatred. Dorian froze, a mix of fear and wonder making the bile hit the back of his throat, Sam lifted his hands as he got between the two, "Paul, calm down, man."

Paul snarled back, silent communication between them as the huge wolf backed away, golden eyes darting from Sam to Dorian before running off into the woods without warning. Dorian hadn't even realize he started to move for Paul till Jake clamped a hand on his shoulder, "Dorian, he's not safe." and a few of the other pack members spoke up in soft agreements. Dorian shrugged off Jake, no wonder why Paul didn't open to them fully, they didn't make the effort, only Sam did. "I'm going. Someone has to be there for him, even if you fuckers won't be." Dorian was off, heading into the dense woods, following the small broken bushes and upturned dirt from Paul's foot tracks. The forest was vast, almost the same looking at each turn, but he wasn't going to give Paul up. Not at all. Dorian's lungs burned from the running, heart pounding too fast to be right, but the adrenaline was making him keep going. He finally found the lumbering wolf at a riverbank, panting and eyes wide with anger. Dorian stepped into view, hands raised, "It's just me, mate." Paul whirled towards Dorian, growling, but not aggressive, more warning, begging to be alone as he always had been. "Hey, no. I'm not leaving, okay? I'm not here to fight you either, Paul. I just wanted to be here in case you needed me or someone to lean on." 

The wolf's ears twitched, muzzle closing over his bared teeth. Paul was calming down, but it'd be awhile before he went back or changed back to the man he was. Dorian rested his hands at his hips, "I knew you were joking. You're right, Bella can handle it, Jake never should've done that. I saw you lose it back there, but I also saw you choosing to leave before it got worse and that.... that says a lot, Paul. You're not messed up or too violent." the wolf just stood there, listening as his breathing went from pants to stable movements. Dorian watched as Paul circled him, muscles tense but he was trying to calm down. "I get it, ya know. People push and push till you show them what they assume you as. I don't see you like that, mate. You just had a shit life and no one's blaming you for it. I wont ever blame you for it. You're not like him, Paul." the last words made Paul freeze, staring at Dorian as his ears tilted back, a question on those dark eyes, "You are not him." Dorian repeated, if he got hit or snapped at then so be it, but he needed Paul to know he didn't see him like the others did. 

The silver wolf padded up to Dorian, nuzzling his stomach and chest before frankly shifting back, utterly naked. Dorian smacked a hand over his eyes, feeling heat fill his face as Paul made a soft laugh before asking, "You always run towards danger like this?". He could hear the older man walk off, hopefully to get clothes on. Dorian peeked out between his eyes, watching Paul shrug on a tank top and sweats, so the wolves had random stashes of clothing in the woods, interesting. "Only when it's worth it. You're worth it." the reaction from Paul had Dorian rolling his eyes. "You don't even know me, Fruit.". it'd be bold, but he was gonna say it anyways, even without the knowledge that he was Paul's imprint, "Not yet, but I... maybe I want to." Paul gritted his teeth before speaking, "You should stay away from me, Fruit." They both stared at each other, just like they did nights ago, silently daring the other. "Next time, don't follow me, okay? I can handle this alone.", Dorian groaned "That's the thing, Paul. You don't have to anymore. Let me be that for you." 

SOmehow that was the wrong thing to say to Paul cause he let out a bitter-ass laugh, "Really? For what? So you can leave me later? Use it against me? Dorian, you probably can't even handle me. I'm dangerous to just about anything around me. I'm not good for you! I'm not good at soft or, or loving words. I don't come from that! You'll just leave the first God damn chance you have like everyone does." Dorian kept quiet, letting Paul rant and rave, this was most likely one of the first times he's let it all out, "Who the hell wants someone like me, Fruit? No one. No one wants a fucked up guy that has a shitty past with emotional and abandonment issues. People like me? We aren't healthy to keep around, and dammit I don't want to break you. You're the one person that if I broke, i'd never be able to cope from it. You're my mate, my imprint. I'd rather be miserable and you're happy with safety than having to tip-toe around me like i'm broken." 

Dorian had no clue what the hell an imprint was, he'd just ask Jake later. "Paul." but Paul wasn't listening, he was still going, and going hard on himelf and his insecurities. "Paul." Dorian started walking to the older man, whose back was to him, before he sighed and grabbed the back of Paul's neck turning the man to him to kiss him. Paul let himself enjoy it for a good five minutes before he pulled away and hit Dorian. A defense mechanism, it hurt to be hit, but Dorian wasn't going to blame the broken man Infront of him.

"I'm not gay." was the first excuse out of Paul's mouth before he turned, beading back into the dense forest as Dorian dabbed his nose with a sigh. He didn't know what to do, he was lost, his face hurt now, and yet he still wanted to go chase after Paul. He could only hope that the next time Paul ran, it'd be towards him and not away. 

Chapter Text

Paul still hadn't shown back up and it was 7:30 pm now, but Dorian stayed, deep in his thoughts that he didn't even see Sam sit beside him on the front porch. The sun was dying, casting golden shadows in the spaces shadows weren't, but Dorian couldn't seem to focus on anything besides the way Paul looked earlier. "You have questions, kid?" Sam's voice had taken him out of his endless thoughts as he looked over and blinked at the man. "A lot, yeah." Dorian nodded before just asking the first one, "What the hell is an imprint? Paul called me that today when I went out to the woods for him."

Sam stilled, yet answered anyways, "An imprint is a bond. A very deep and special bond that'll never be broken. It's not just emotional, it's spiritual, primal in some ways. It's a big thing when wolves like us imprint. In other words, it's finding our other half, a soul mate of sorts. Even if it's just to be friends or family to them. For me as an example, I imprinted on Emily years ago and now she's my wife. It's a consistent pull towards them, no matter what. We can't control it." 

"So.... it's similar to falling in love, human terms anyways." Dorian asked and Sam nodded, "Yes, but not exactly. There is always chances it becomes romantic, but it never just starts that way. It's about connection, trust, and loyalty. The wolf that imprints becomes whatever their person needs. Protector. Lover. Brother. It's absolute. Not even death changes it." Those words made Dorian sit back into the wooden chair, the words settling on his shoulders like solid weight. "And Paul...he imprinted on me." The silence that followed was loud, too loud. "It's not your fault he's fighting it, Dorian. Paul is....in denial. Been fighting it since the day you shown up." Dorian's head whipped to Sam, "Why? The day I shown up? That doesn't make sense, I thought.." he didn't finish the sentence. "He comes with a lot of baggage, kid. Never been good at feelings, I've tried to get him to understand that being gay isn't going to make us see him differently. He's stuck on trying to convince himself that he's straight."

Dorian couldn't tell what hit harder, that Paul was lying to himself, or the fact that it seemed like Paul was rejecting him. "So he's rejecting the imprint cause I'm a guy?", Sam hummed and the corrected him, "No. Not you. Himself. That is important to remember, kid. this is nothing with you, but everything with him and how he sees himself. He petrified of a lot of things, the biggest is being vulnerable, seen, not living up to whatever shitty box his dad told him to fit into as he grew up." Dorian could hear and feel the anger that Sam held towards Paul's father and he didn't blame him, not after reading all the police reports. "What do I do then?" Dorian's voice was quiet, soft. Sam leaned back with a sigh, "Nothing.", that one simple word was ripping at his heart more than he had assumed it would. "Don't chase him, don't push. The imprint doesn't mean you owe him anything, and it definitely doesn't mean he has a right to you. If this is going to work, and I'm not saying it will, there's a huge chance it won't, he'll need to come to you first."

Dorian was quiet for what felt like an eternity, the warmth of the sun was gone, leaving him cold despite sitting next to a walking furnace, "But what if he never comes?" The words were a soft whisper, barely audible that he was surprised Sam caught it, "Then you move on.'

~~

Dorian found himself on the back of Charlie's porch, deep in the night as the moon shown and the stars wept with light. Sam's words were still being swallowed, and each time it repeated, Dorian's heart felt duller and darker. He couldn't understand what Paul had been through, and he wasn't trying too. Dorian just wanted to be the person Paul leaned on. That's what an imprint was for fuck sake, he was the one person Paul could lean on utterly, yet the asshole was consistently running away or looking at Dorian like he was the problem. He slipped his tea with a rough sigh, his nose still hurt but it would be fine. Dorian couldn't see how doing nothing was going to help Paul, that didn't show him consistency. Paul's consistency was people leaving, people hitting. Dorian wasn't like that, not at all. Doing nothing meant defeat, meant not caring. Dorian cared a lot, maybe too much for someone he just met last month. He couldn't force the man to acknowledge him, and he didn't want it if it'd be inorganic. Dorian wanted Paul to feel good in his own skin before anything happened. 

 A twig snap, Dorian's eye shifted around before he was met with a familiar body, Paul, but as a wolf. It'd just have to do unless the man had somehow smuggled clothing close enough around here too. His ears twitched and a soft whine came from his throat as Dorian got up and sat on the steps. He didn't flinch as Paul came closer, but his heart did pick up faster, not from fear but the feeling of needing to be there and around the man. A soft growl, a non-aggressive one ripped from Paul's throat as he pressed his face to Dorian's chest and face, the wolf was huge, even sitting he was taller than him.  "My nose still hurts, ya know." Dorian mused before the wolf let out a huff, the hot breath running down the tank top he had on. "You are as infuriating as you are good-looking, I swear i'm gonna turn gray by the time i'm thirty." he complained, but there was no real heat behind it. Paul was still against him, and it made sense. Paul felt more secure as a wolf than as a human when it came to emotions, hence this. "I'm not gonna stop. I hope you know that, no matter how much you push me off, till you tell me you don't want me and actually mean it." The words were soft but he knew Paul had heard it, there was a vibration from Paul's chest, and Dorian could hear his heart beat as he rested against the big wolf. 

"Sam explained it all to me. The whole imprint thing. I don't really know what to do with that part specifically, but I get it. How can you even process someone being bonded to your soul before you even know them." Paul's response was a low, inaudible growl-nonthreatening, maybe a pained sigh? Dorian kept his head against Paul's furry chest, "You don't gotta worry about words. I understand it's probably easier to be this way, no words, just standing and listening." That got a better response from the wolf as Paul had snuffed his nose into Dorian's hair. Scenting? Dorian was still getting used to wolf mannerisms, he'd get there eventually. "i'm not mad that you hit me earlier, confused, but not mad. You didn't choose me specifically and I won't force you to deal with it or me till you want too, but i'm still going to be around. I'm not leaving." There was a deep rumble against Dorian's ear from Paul, almost like a purr of contentment, or at least Dorian hoped it was one. 

Dorian could feel his chest tighten as he looked upwards, just so he could look Paul in the eyes, "I see you. Even if it's just sharp teeth and anger, or fur. I see you, Paul, and I don't think you're broken, let alone deserve to be alone." The wolves ears had tilted upwards, tail thumping the ground once, probably more stubborn shit from Paul. "Yeah, yeah. Argue all you want. Just, don't shut me out. You don;t gotta talk , human or wolf." 

The sound of crunching gravel had broken the small moment and Paul backed off, "Night, Paul. Be safe." Dorian whispered as he got up and inside to sneak upstairs so he didn't deal with Charlie's questions. He was happy though, he was able to speak and be heard, at least he hoped anyways.

Chapter Text

The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and fresh wet moss as Dorian stepped onto the well-worn trail, the same one that him and Jake had taken days ago. Charlie would've joined if it hadn't been for a last minute work call on a case of yet another kid missing from upstate. His boots crunched the loose dirt and already fallen leaves as he started his journey. The forest wrapped around him like a soft, cool blanket--quiet, familiar, and serene. Dorian breathed deeply and smiled as he felt the familiar burn in his legs, but it didn't stop him. 

The past weeks had pile dup a lot of emotions on him and this was just the break he needed, that was, until he seen a shifting shape? At first he had assumed it was a trick of his eyes, but then the shape turned towards him. No, not a shape, a person. They were standing still now, a few yards uphill and in the shadows. Not moving. Still, almost lifeless. Dorian felt the knots that had just loosened retighten in his gut, this wasn't good. "Hello?" he called out, and the figure tilted it's head like a dog would out of confusion, yet there wasn't a response still. As he got closer, he could see how pale they were, and had on tattered clothing that was as equally stained. Was that fucking blood? Dorian took a small step back, 'Sorry, didn't mean to intrude, just hiking." 

The figure moved at that, but it wasn't a step nor anothe rtun. It was slike it had vanished and reappeared just a few feet away to Dorian's left. Definitely not human. He stumbled back, panic making his heart spike which wasn't helping at all. He could faintly hear the twigs and leaves crunching under his boots, the fear in Dorian's movements made the person smile, razor sharp fangs glinted in the morning light, crimson eyes sparkling with satisfaction. 

Newborn Vampire. "Fuck me and call me Jesus." Dorian mumbled as he felt his heart thundering in his chest, the only thing he could do was turn and run. 

The forest blurred around him. There was no plan, just keep running and try to get more distance between them His legs were screaming in pain now, his chest heaving with the lack of air while running. Dorian could hear the unnatural way the air shifted behind him as the newborn ran after him, like he was prey. Branches whipped at his face, arms, and legs. He ducked and slid under a fallen tree and slid down a muddy slope, his clothes coating with sweat and now muddy clay. He wasn't fast enough, he knew that. He wouldn't be able to outrun it, it wasn't possible. Before he could think of how everyone would feel if he had disappeared, a growl had echoed throughout the small clearing he had ran into. It definitely wasn't the vampire. A flash of silver and dark gray exploded from the soft green and orange hued underbrush and jumped over him, huge, furious, and very God damn familiar. 

Paul. 

Dorian slid as he got extra distance and hid behind a tree as Paul had collided with the newborn Vampire in a blur of silver fur and pale limbs. The newborn was fast, but untrained. Paul was pure muscle and purpose. He slammed the newborn into the ground, claws and fangs ripping at whatever he could grab of the vampire. Dorian had pushed himself against a tree, head between his legs as he panted, his vision focusing and unfocusing. Anothe rwolf had came through the trees, this time a pitch black one. Sam. Together they had overwhelmed the newborn vampire, and the sound of cracking bones and screeching of undead pains kept ringing out in the forest till it stopped. Dorian could barely breathe, hands shaking as it gripped his now messy hair. He had no clue how much time had passed, but he didn't move till he felt fur pressing against him. He leaned into it, trying to just breathe. Sam had shifted back first, on the other side of Dorian, "Kid, you alright?". His voice was soft, concerned. "Yeah. Just--Yeah." was all Dorian could get out. Paul wasn't going to shift back any time soon, not that Dorian was complaining. He could feel Paul's wet nose press into the top of his head, it'd be as affectionate as Paul was gonna get. Dorian's breathing was slowing down and going back to normal, but Paul clearly wasn't pleased as he let out a low growl. 

"Yeah, we'll need to double patrols. Let the Cullens know that there are rouges roaming around." Sam nodded to Paul, The adrenaline was still pumping through Dorian, but so was something else--something that was grounding him. He wasn't alone out here, or in general. He wasn't alone anymore. He had a pack that cared for him, even though he hadn't asked for it. 

For once, Paul hadn't ran away. He ran toward Dorian.

Dorian had been following beside Paul's wolf form for what felt like forever, the woods thinned near the edge of La Push territory before Paul finally stopped at the Pack House and went behind a tree to shift back, the older man stepping back out as a human with just shorts on, no shoes nor shirt. Dorian had to keep admitting, Paul was hot at thirty-five. He felt his breath hitch as Paul came to him and stopped, inches away it seemed. "You're staying here, you can sleep in my room. No arguments." 

Dorian blinked, "What? Paul-" "No ifs. No buts." Paul snapped, his jaw tense, "You almost died out there. I felt it. I cant--I wont let that happen again.". Dorian could tell this wasn't a suggestion, but a deep need. Something had broken in Paul and it had opened a lot of primal feelings were spilling out. Paul was done running. 

"Fine." Dorian nodded, looking into the man's eyes. Paul had relaxed, and for the first time, Paul wasn't running. He was staying. 

Chapter Text

Paul wasn't used to sharing his space. Not with girls. Not with family. Fuck, not even the pack. Definitely not with someone like Dorian. 

The pack was downstairs, loud laughs and heavy feet bouncing everywhere while dinner was wrapping up. Sounds that had become white noise for Paul, bit now with Dorina staying here and in his room no less, every small sound mattered. The soft shuffle of Dorian's feet in the bathroom as he showered, the quiet sobs that had escaped his throat while he showered. Paul heard it all. Paul's room was...normal for a man. Messy yet if you asked where something was, he'd know. Paul sat on the edge of his bed, face in his hands as he thought of the other boy, no, not a boy, the man that was in his bathroom taking a shower, and would soon be walking out in Paul's clothes. The imprint had always been describes like something akin to fate, like the puzzle clicking all into place, as if you were coming home. But no one had warned him how badly it could hurt. No one said how it'd crack his armor wide the fuck open, leaving his insides raw and exposed to be picked at. He had fought the imprint for this very reason, hell, he still wanted too.

He liked girls. Always had. He couldn't....like, let alone love Dorian. He couldn't allow himself too. So why did earlier scare him so fucking badly? Just the thought of Dorian dying made Paul want to go into that bathroom and hold his mate. He didn't look up when Dorian opened the bathroom door and stepped out in one of Paul's tank tops and sweatpants. The scent of soap, hot water, and the fruity smell of Dorian himself had swam into Paul's nose and mind. He knew if he looked up now, he'd be slamming Dorian down and showing what it meant to be his. It was growing late, and by the time Paul had decided to look up, it was 12 am. Damn. 

The house was quiet, and as he looked over, Dorian was asleep in the tank top, but the pants were gone now, leaving his lower half covered in boxers. Everyone was either on patrols or asleep, Paul had told Sam he wouldn't be joining and the others understood. He needed to be here because Dorian was here. Paul promised himself that Fruit wasn't going to be out of his fucking sight. Not now, not ever. Paul stared at Dorian's sleeping body, the man was beautiful. That word had been easily thrown from Paul's mouth before about the girls Paul had no fucking interest in. Yet, with Dorian, it was different. He meant it. This wasn't about skimpy outfits or pretty makeup, this was quieter and smoother. Something true. Paul drug a hand over this face with a soft groan, he needed sleep but he couldn't manage it. "Such a fucking mess, Lahote." He mumbled. He stood from the bed and went to his window to open it, the smells of La Push greeting him with familiarity. It used to be his grounding, but that had changed, Dorian was his grounding now. 

The imprint and Paul's wolf had begged for closeness, begged for Dorian not just physically but emotionally and spiritually. The bond was a second pulse under Paul's skin, syncing with Dorian's pulse. In the past, when something had overwhelmed him, Paul lashed out. Anger was safe. Yelling kept people away and safe, but Dorian didn't flinch nor back away. Dorian had defended Paul when he didn't have to, and saw through all the bullshit fronts and places that no one else had dared to look closer at. Paul was depe in thought, that he didn't hear Dorian call for him till a second time. "What is it, Fruit?" Paul's voice was gruff and tired, yet he still wouldn't sleep. "You okay?" Dorian's voice was soft, blurry with sleep. Those two words should not have mattered, but they did. 

Paul cracked the window and got back on his side of the bed, Dorian batted his sleep-heavy eyes but didn't push for an answer. "I meant what I said. You're staying here. With me." Paul gruffed, snaking a hesitant arm around Dorian's bare stomach. "Alright." 

No questions, no doubts. Paul tensed when Dorian slid closer but slowly relaxed without meaning too. "Sleep. I've got you. Fruit.", he could feel Dorian's breathing even out as he fell back asleep. Thank God he did, Paul was close to spewing out the words clouding his head. Like how he loved Dorian's eyes. How bad he's been wanting to kiss Dorian. Or how he wanted to be the reason Dorian got up every morning. 

Paul wasn't sure what would happen after this, but he'd be damned if Dorian was gonna leave his side. not now, not ever. He was still trying to fight the imprint, knowing he was loosing. For the first time, he was slowly accepting that maybe, just maybe the imprint knew him better than he knew himself. 

Chapter Text

The morning sun filtered through the thin curtains in Paul's room, casting a muted golden glow over the worn out wooden floors. Dorian stretched with a groan, slow and heavy with sleep. Paul was already up, shirtless, and crouched over a pile of clothes he was pretending to sort. Paul wasn't sorting shit, he was watching Dorian. Every move, every breath was being recorded in some primal place that Paul could not shut off, The imprint wasn't buzzing anymore for him, but full on screaming in his veins like wildfires. Yesterday had been a lot for both of them. Paul nearly lost Dorian, and Dorian nearly lost his life. The moment Paul had wrapped his arm around Dorian to sleep, he felt the imprint snap into place. Not just protection, nor instinct, but need. Pure unbridled need. "You are doing a terrible job at folding clothes, ya know." Dorian mused as he smiled, still half asleep to Paul. The older man scoffed, "They're not even mine. Don't care." Dorian sat up, rubbing his eyes, sunlight hitting Dorian just perfectly, top surgery scarring glinting a pretty pink. Paul's gaze lingered, not out of curiosity or disgust, just simple admiration. Paul could tell there was strength in those scars, a history he didn't know yet, and the man sitting infront of him lived everyday despite it. Paul didn't know what to say, he hardly ever did when it came to Dorian. 

Dorian stood up from the bed, another stretch that made bones in his spine pop before he grabbed a random flannel of Paul's to slide on. Before Paul could stop himself, "Lets go for a walk." the words were soft, and despite not being a question, Dorian knew he could say no. "Just us?" Dorian asked, arching an eyebrow. "Yes just us. Don't look so damn shocked." Paul huffed and stood up, still shirtless as usual. They took the trail that looped behind the Pack House, through ferns and fir trees, following the familiar scent lines of the patrol routes. Paul hadn't spoken yet, so neither did Dorian. Yet the silence wasn't heavy, it breathed. When they reached the crest of the trail, it was a overlook of the ocean, "I come here to clear my head most days." Paul admitted softly. Dorian's expression softened, "Looks like it works." 

Dorian watched as Paul sat on a boulder with a sigh, elbows on knees. This time the silence was heavier and stretched thin. Dorian sat beside him, close but not too close, "You okay?". "No," Paul answered instantly, "But I am working on it.". Dorian looked over to his wolven mate, "Because of me?" which was answered with a head shake. "Yes and no". Paul's jaw clenched and relaxed, "It's not a choice. The imprint. It's something none of us wolves can control. Our wolves pick our mates, and that's it. No take backs, no switching. It's connection. Fate or whatever fucking shit you want to call it nowadays. But it's not fake." Paul was attempting to open up, so Dorian kept his mouth closed. "I didn't want it, I didn't want a mate. Not because of you, but because it scares the shit out of me. I don't do soft, I don't do feelings. That's not me. But I keep wanting to be beside you. I think about you even when I don't want to. I get mad when I feel you're in pain or upset, and when you're happy it feels like I can fucking breathe for once." 

Dorian's breath hitched, his chest tightening, but Paul wasn't done. "I know I've been a straight asshole to you. I keep pushing you away, or pretending like I don't care. But I am. God damn you have me around your fucking finger. I don't know what this is gonna bring, but it's not nothing.". The ocean wind whipped around both of them, birds circled overhead, and the whole world seemed like it was holding it's breath. Dorian reached out, resting his hand beside Paul's, "You don't have to know right now, but i'm not going anywhere." Paul closed his eyes, letting those words wash over him before he looked over to Dorian. "Let's go back to the house, I'm sure Emily's made breakfast. If not, I'll male us something."  Dorian blinked as he got up, feeling Paul slip his hand into his, "You can cook? like actually cook and not burn?" 

Paul smirked at that, a real one, "You'd be surprised about the things I can do when I'm not trying to punch someone in the face.". Dorian laughed, "And you can joke? Are you sick? Where's my grumpy man?". Paul's smirk turned to a lop sided smile, for the first time Paul was willing to stop running. They might not have had all the answers, but one thing for sure was that this was going to happen. 

Chapter Text

The kitchen at the Pack House was usually chaotic and ruthless from hungry wolf boys, the noise level through the roof with banter. Dorian sat that the kitchen island, watching Paul's lean back that had a decor of old scars as the man cooking bacon and pancakes.It was an oddly endearing sight, someone as rough as Paul doing something so mundane as fucking cook breakfast. Surprisingly today, the pack house was quiet, maybe Sam had sensed that Paul and Dorian needed time so he had the boys go do stuff, who knew. Paul stood at the stove, hand clenching the spatula like he was ready to strangle it, not because he loved to cook, but because he needed something to do with his hands. 

"You are way too focused for someone making pancakes," Dorian had a small smile on his lips, Paul didn't even look over, "Just don't wanna burn 'em, Fruit.". Dorian rolled his eyes, smiling, "Totally." Dorian couldn't see it, but Paul smirked for once, "My bad for wanting to make the perfect flip, unless you want fucked up looking ones?". "I'll risk the first batch, Wolf boy." Paul hummed as a response, sliding a few golden brown pancakes Infront of Dorian with some slices of bacon. "Tryna get me fat?" it was supposed to be a joke, but the way Paul turned on his heels said he didn't like it very much. "You're not fat. Don't say that." 

Dorian's hands were in a surrender, "Sorry, won't make that joke." Paul went back to his own pancakes while Dorian nibbled his food. "Holy shit, you can cook. Who knew my angry man could be flavorful."

Later, the duo were out back, a pair of lawn chairs dragged into the sun. The other wolves were still out, most likely doing patrols or wandering around. This was rare. The peace and the relaxation. Dorian had himself reclined back, shirt off to tan, like his ass needed it. Top surgery scars winking at Paul like they needed to be kissed and bit at; and a trimmed snail trail that had to be licked at. God Paul really needed to get his head out the gutter. The silence between them was easy to handle, but Dorian couldn't help but fill it. "You ever think about the future?" the question was simple enough. Paul sipped his coke before answering, "Not really anything past the pack if that's what you're asking. Honestly, didn't think i'd even live to be twenty five, let alone be here in my thirties." Dorian turned towards the older man, eyes narrow, "Explain."

Paul shrugged, "Before the shift? I was angry all the time. Fighting at school, shitty grades, hell I barely graduated. I didn't think about college or a job, none of the after. I had assumed i'd either screw up bad enough to get locked up for good or..... disappear." That single word hit Dorian harder than he had expected. He reached out without a thought, placing a hand on Paul's wrist. Warm skin. Steady pulse, a heartbeat that was strong. "You're not him>" Paul closed his eyes at the soft words that somehow came out so easily from Dorian, "Sometimes, that's all I feel like." his other hand coming to cover Dorian's smaller palm, trying to be affectionate despite it feeling weird. "Maybe. But i've seen you now, the real you, Paul. You feel too much and show too little. Yet, you protect the people you love with your life. I don't see that being a lost cause. That's a man who is trying to heal." Paul didn't speak, but Dorian could see his jaw working like there was something to argue over but he refused to let it out. Instead he sighed and leaned back, eyes closed. "I think about a house. Somewhere in the woods, maybe near the lake. Enough land where I can be just close enough to society but don't have to interact." Dorian nodded at the visual, "Sounds perfect." Paul cracked an eye open, "You'd be there." Dorian's head shot up and to Paul's direction, "I....I would?". Paul smiled, like actually smiled, "Yeah. You'd probably be the one yelling at me to wash the dishes. Or how I steal too much of the covers. But either way, you'd be there."

Dorian could feel the sting of heat behind his eyes as he smiled at the stone hard man beside him, "You're such a fucking sap when no one looks." Paul shrugged once more, "Only for you, Fruit." And that was the moment-quiet, unadorned, yet completely thiers-as the space between them finally began to disappear. "I have to ask...What about kids?" Dorian piped up gently, which Paul shut the topic down a little too fast, "I wouldn't be a good dad. NO point in having them." before he piped up, "Can you even have kids with the whole trans thing?" Dorian was surprised that was the next topic, "Yeah, I can. I'd have to let my female hormones get back right to support a child, but yes. I haven't had bottom surgery or taken anything out. and by the way, I see you as being a really good girl dad."

Paul hesitated, curious to why Dorian would think that he'd be a good girl dad specifically but didn't ask about that, "So...for the sake of asking, we could have kids, right?" which was answered with a nod, "Yep, we could definitely have hell-raisers." which surprisingly got a small laugh from Paul. It was a rich sound, deep, and Dorian couldn't help but silently admire it. Yeah, that definitely just became his favorite noise.

The air pooling into the room from Paul's window was cool, thank God. Paul was like a God damn furnace and yet still curled beside Dorian like it was freezing. The two hadn't said much in awhile, but Dorian could tell Paul was thinking hard. Dorian sat up on his elbows, "You're thinking." and Paul looked up and smiled, "Dangerous, I know, but yes, I have questions...over your..identity." his words were careful, like he wasn't sure. "How come you haven't had bottom surgery?" the question was hard, deeper than Dorian was expecting. Dorian shifted to get comfortable "Yes, I still have a uterus. It's not because i'm ashamed, or unsure of being a man. It's complicated. Surgery is long and healing is even longer, it's risky. But... I also don't feel the need to change more to feel like a man. I am a man, my sex organs don't prove that."

Paul nodded slowly, thinking, processing. Dorian continued, "I get it. If that's a lot for you to understand. Growing up so traditional and the views of the wolves and tribe.... I understand if you don't want to deal with it." there was insecurities seeming into the conversation. What if Paul didn't want Dorian due to this? "No ones ever told us about the whole transgender thing. We, let alone me, grew up didn't grow up with it, hello, I haven't been comfortable being gay till....well, you." there was no judgement in Paul's words, a soft open look in his eyes as he looked up to Dorian. He was waiting for a but, Dorian felt like there was a but. Yet, it didn't come, just Paul pulling him back down to bed and to his chest. "I've learned a lot more these few days than I have in pretty much my whole life. It's new, and I still have a lot more to learn, but I'm not scared nor am I going to leave." Dorian bit back the tears, or at least tried too. The soft touch of Paul's rough hand on his bare back broke it all, he sobbed quietly, Paul being the only thing that made sense as of then. "You...you're not freaked out?" Dorian croaked through tears, "No. It's just another part of you, Fruit. I wouldn't change you for the life of me. You're my mate, as you are now is what I want." 

They were silent for a little, before Paul spoke hesitant once more, "You uh...You mentioned kids earlier." Kids. God, Dorian forgot he mentioned that. "I haven't started anything that would shut that part of me down permanently. I've thought about kids, but I want to be established. Good job, good home before I go to try making babies." Paul's arms wrapped around Dorian's hips, tugging him closer. "Just another thing we'll have to take caution on. Don't need any pups too soon than when we're ready." it was a joke, a subtle one, but a joke. 

A soft kiss was pressed to the top of Dorian's head, "I want to know every inch of you, my mate." 

"All of me?"

"All of you."

Chapter Text

The sky over La Push had darkened without warning, thick clouds and angry above the coast. The wind came in heavy gusts, rattling trees and Dorian's bones as it flew over sand and grass. He never minded storms, in fact, he loved them. Nature was the one true thing in the world that would always be honest. Paul was tense, tighter than he had been all day, Dorian could see there was a frustration that was settling on the older man's shoulders. Paul hadn't voiced it, but Dorian could tell it was close to a breaking point, a dam ready to bust. 

It was supposed to have been a good day. It had been a good day. Till Jared had shown up.

The other wolf had been on patrol, jogging till he caught up to the duo. "Didn't think we'd see you today, Paul. Figured you were too busy playing house." Dorian could feel that the words hit Paul in all the wrong ways, which was what Jared wanted. Jared continued, oblivious or uncaring. "Not that it's my business I guess, but I didn't realize you were into guys... or at least whatever fucking thing Dorian is." Jared didn't have a moments notice till Pual was yanking him off his feet by his shirt, "Say it again, Jared. I fucking dare you."

Dorian grabbed Paul's arm, "Hun, he's not worth it. Let's go." but Paul wasn't listening as he dropped Jared, body tense and hands shaking. A harsh growl left Paul's throat before Dorian grabbed his arm, "Paul. Look at me." 

Too late.

The shift hit too hard-so violent that Paul wasn't even able to control it himself. Skin turned to fur, hands turned to padded claws. A flash of white-hot rage, instincts, and a sense of protection. Dorian stumbled back, landing on his ass, but that wasn't the concern anymore. Pain ripped him speechless as he looked down, red was staining his ripped shirt and fast. As an EMT himself, Dorian had no fear of blood, but this was a lot more than he had ever seen be taken from a body. Four ragged lines of blood, flesh, and shirt was from shoulders to hips on Dorian's torso. He didn't understand why he couldn't manage to cry out in pain, it was like he was too shocked to even register it. He hadn't even realized Paul had shifted back, nor that he had laid back in the wet dirt till Paul was cradling his face, "No, no, no. Stay awake for me. I-I need you to stay awake." Dorian went to speak but coughed up blood instead, the pain now hitting him like a train, "Hurts." 

"Jared! Go get the others, get someone dammit!" Paul all but yelled and Jared was running, scrambling as he ran for the Pack house. "I-i didn't mean too, please you have to believe me." Paul whimpered as he kept his hold on Dorian's head, "I know." Dorian whispered as he tried to make himself focus on Paul but his eyes fluttered anyways, "I know." 

The next thirty minutes were a blur for both Paul and Dorian. Voices, sirens, bloody hands and towels, trying to stay awake. Once it was under control, EMT's were pulling Dorian onto a stretcher, Charlie showing up pale faced and hesitant at the fact that he had to stay to get a report done and not go be with his little boy. Paul let Sam talk the whole time, all he could do was stare at his bloody hands. His mate's blood. Paul couldn't remember how long he had stood there with he others, hands still stained, breathing like the sky might rain down on him with the sun's fire. He could vaguely hear Sam chewing Jared's ass out for provoking while a human was around as well as disobeying orders to let Dorian and Paul have their own time. The imprint bind burned like the hottest fire under Paul's skin, at least that was a comfort to know Dorian was still alive. 

For the first time, Paul questioned if loving Dorian meant he had doomed him. 

The surgery had begun the moment Carlisle stepped into the OR. He moved like the doctor he was, nearly perfectly. Hundreds of years would do that. He could loose any of his patient's right now, just not this one, he refused. Dorian had lost too much blood by now, so blood transfusions were a must. The wounds had narrowly missed vital organs which was a God damn wonder, but he wasn't going to question it. Muscle, tissue, and skin were damaged beyond what Carlisle had ever seen in his centuries of life. Carlisle's hands moved perfectly, cleaning and stitching up the lines of torn flesh and muscle. The damage would be severe nearly fatal, the scarring permanent unfortunately.

He sutured torn flesh, cauterized bleeding vessels, administering pain killers, small doses of anesthesia, the repeat. He was Dorian's only chance of survival as of right now, especially since Dorian was human. The top surgery scars had been nicked, depended, and made ragged, but Carlisle made sure to not fuck them up more, he knew the significance of them, mending them like it was something sacred. 

Outside the operating room, the waiting room was unnaturally quiet despite being nearly packed to the brim with people. Charlie was sitting between Bella and Sue, Sue's soft whispers of prayers in her native tongue was the only thing that could be heard. Jacob and the others of the pack were sitting around, mentally talking to one another or staying quiet. Jared was sitting in his guilt, despite the fact that it wasn't his intentions to get Dorian hurt, it was still a mess he had created. Everyone tense and watching. The Cullens were also quiet, strained with worry. Bella was leaned onto Edward as he sat beside her, Jasper was tense with all the feelings around him. And Paul...Paul was currently wearing the floor the hell out as he paced back and forth, his shirt still bloody, Dorian's blood still under his nails, face showing no emotion, eyes wild with guilt and dread. No one spoke to him, no one blamed him either, but he didn't need to be blamed, he had already sentenced himself to the pain and guilt. 

The double doors of the surgical wing creaked open on its rusted hinges making every head snap up to Carlisle walked into the cold room. He removed his bloody gloves as he moved, pale face calm, but a flicker of worry in his dead eyes. Paul had finally stopped, waiting. 

"He made it." 

Charlie let out a quiet noise, something between a sob and a breath, sinking deeper into the shitty plastic chair. Carlisle continued, "The injuries were extensive. He lost a lot of blood. Wounds ripped through muscle and tissues, thankfully no organs were hit. Vitals are steady. He'll need a lot of time and patience to heal and get back to moving. He's alive, that's what matters, not what happened." then after a small pause he added, "He's awake." Paul's voice cracked, "Awake? How? Isn't anesthesia supposed to knock your ass out?" Carlisle smiled at the question before speaking "He woke up as we got him into his room. Coherent. Weak but aware. He asked for you, Paul." those four words made Paul's heart lurch. Even after this, Dorian still wanted him? There was a beat of silence before Charlie spoke up, "Only Paul?" it wasn't rude, just curious and worried for his son. 

"Yes. Only Paul." Carlisle repeated, Paul had started walking before anyone could stop him. He wasn't going to deny Dorian a single thing, if the man told him to jump, Paul would ask how high. Paul disappeared down the hall, and to everyone but Charlie, a understanding had spread: Whatever pain had passed between the two, whatever fear or doubt still lingered. Dorian Swan didn't care. He knew exactly who he wanted when he came back to the land of the living. 

Chapter Text

The hallway leading to Dorian's room felt longer than it actually was, which made Paul more anxious and fearful for the sight that'd greet him once he went through the door. The sterile blue walls of the hospital pulsed around him, dead and suffocating, and he could hear so much damn equipment buzzing around. He tried to will his hands to stop shaking, but his body wasn't listening, unfortunately they still smelled of Dorian's blood. A nurse at the end of the corridor gave him a small nod and stepped aside to give him some privacy as he reached Room 321. Paul felt his heart nearly stop as he opened the door, under pale thin white sheets was Dorian, nearly as pale as the bed itself in so many bandages Paul couldn't tell where they began and ended. 

Dorian's eyes were half lidded, dazed and unfocused, but awake. A small dribble of dried blood at the corner of his mouth, two IVs in his arms, and a heart monitor beeped rhythmically in the background. Dorian was alive. Alive and staring right at him. "Paul." Dorian rasped with a slurred smile, probably from the painkillers. Paul felt his knees nearly give out as he came to stand beside the bed, hands shaking harder before he sat down. "I'm sorry, Fruit. I'm so God damn sorry." Paul had never heard his voice crack this much in a single day, "I didn't mean to-Dorian, I would never-I just, I lost control-and." "Paul, shut up." Dorian cut off his rambles. "I know you...didn't mean to do it. I saw your face the second it happened."

But Paul couldn't accept the forgiveness his own mate was giving freely. "I should've never have let myself shift near you," Paul started, "I should've walked away, I knew better and I still fucked up." I'm supposed to be keeping you safe, and I did the God damn opposite." he watched as Dorian's pale hand laid weakly on his knee, "You lost control, Paul. But you found your way back to me. That means something. Means everything." Paul didn't respond, he didn't know how to. Instead, Paul grabbed Dorian's hand and rested it on his cheek, speaking into his palm, "You asked for me. Why?"

"Why wouldn't I? You are mine just as much as I am yours, Paul. That'll never change." Paul couldn't help the small smile that graced his face as he kissed Dorian's palm. "I'm not going anywhere. Not ever again." he whispered into his hand like a prayer, a promise. "You better not, now get in this bed, I need my personal heater." Paul chuckled at Dorian's half coherent remark and slid into the cramped bed being gentle as possible due to the stitches that were covered by bandages. "Of course, fruit. Can't have my favorite man getting frozen solid." 

It wasn't till at least an hour later that the duo was found by the others, Paul with his head on-top of Dorian's an arm over his lower hips while Dorian himself was knocked clean out due to the painkillers and Paul's warmth.

Three days. Three long fucking days till Dorian was released in the care of Paul, and well the Pack as a whole. It wasn't about who could heal him the fastest, but where Dorian felt comfortable to heal. As broken and bruised as it felt, that safety still meant Paul. Dorian sat in the back seat of Sam's van, a plush pillow between seat belt and stomach so the stitches and healing scabs weren't touched, the soft hoodie of Paul's swallowing his leaner body completely. Dorian's face was still a tad pale, but slowly getting its warm colors back. None of them spoke much, and Paul refused to touch Dorian, not till his mate reached out first, and of course Dorian did. Fingers brushing Paul's knee, a silent message of 'i'm here and I still trust you.' By the time they reached the Pack House, most of the wolves had cleared out, only Jacob and Leah had stuck around long enough to see Dorian as Paul picked him up like he was fragile, and he was. They didn't speak, just waited till he was inside to leave. It hurt Paul to feel how light Dorian was, how weak his mate had become. Every breath of Dorian's was deliberate, shallow, just enough air so his lungs didn't burn. Paul's room had been rearranged; extra pillows, fresh sheets, medical supplies on the nightstand, a fan on Dorian's side of the bed. 

Dorian hissed softly as Paul helped him lay down half way on the bed, "I feel like I'm eighty, this isn't fun." Paul huffed, trying to be serious, "You're not. You're healing." 

The first night was the hardest, it always is. Dorian had to rely on Paul for nearly everything and he hated it, not because he didn't want to lean on Paul, but because Dorian was a stubborn asshat like his partner. He couldn't walk on his own, nor sit up alone either. Currently, Dorian was fighting back tears of hurt and pain as they walked to the bathroom, Paul's larger hand on Dorian's lower back, securing his spine so he wouldn't collapse. "I wanna shower, I fucking stink like hospital." Dorian mumbled as he was able to have a small reprieve to sit on the toilet. Paul stayed, not because he had to, but because he couldn't bare the thought of Dorian falling all because he wanted to be stubborn as a fucking mule to shower. He helped Dorian undress slowly belfry helping take off the dirty gauze and bandages, watched as his mate's body trembled from cold, pain, and something deeper that he couldn't understand and wasn't going to ask to learn. 

"I hate that I did this." Paul whispered, running a rag over Dorian's back, if this was another situation, Paul knew he'd probably have Dorian a mess of many things that wasn't blood and soap, but that wasn't the time for that, not even close. "You didn't mean to. I'm not made out of glass, Paul." Dorian gritted, pissy but not towards Paul, towards himself. Once the shower was down for both of them, Paul helped him out, dried him like he was a sacred object, reapplied the gauze and got him into bed to relax. The two didn't talk much after that, and they didn't have the need to either. It didn't take long for Dorian to fall asleep and Paul lay beside him, awake and staring at his chest with each breath, too afraid to touch him. at least that was until Dorian mumbled in his sleep, hand patting the space till he found Paul's hand. Once those soft fingers wrapped around Paul's, he didn't let go.

One step, One bruise, One touch at a time the two would slowly rebuild themselves and each other, it'd just take time as everything this deep did. 

Slowly but surely, the physical pain dulled, the scars the accident left behind were deeper, twisting around his body, a memory that neither would ever forget. Some mornings or days, Dorian would cry endlessly and he wouldn't even know why. Paul never asked, but he made sure to always be there when he reached for him. Some nights were unbearable for both, but Paul would be the bigger man and go for a smoke or two as Sam watched over Dorian. It killed him to leave Dorian's side, but he needed a break sometimes too. There was also days that it seemed better, Dorian was making progress, he could turn in bed now without tears hitting his eyes, and stand up without Paul's help, but neither trusted his legs just yet. 

It had been a solid month now since he was released, Dorian was still bruised, the stitches were at least out now. The pain lived in his ribs the most, still had to brace himself most days, the occasional wince from breathing too hard. Currently, Dorian sat on the wooden porch, stretched out between two chairs, watching the rain as it drizzled lightly. He could feel Paul's eyes on him from behind, half watching, half guarding. "I'm not gonna fall over and die from a sneeze, Hun." Dorian joked, Paul huffed at the joke before he came to sit beside him, "I know, Fruit. I can't help it." there was a heaviness on Paul's shoulders, Dorian could see it easily, knew it was the guilt that Paul hadn't fully bothered to unpack yet. "Is it all you see? The scars, I mean, when you look at me." Dorian whispered, trying and failing to keep the insecurities out of his voice. "Yes, but not in the way you think." Paul reassured, hand going to rest on his love's thigh. "How?" 

Paul didn't answer at first, choosing his words carefully, "I see you survived me. The strength it took for you to look me in the eyes after what I did. I see the man who woke up and only wanted me when I thought I didn't even deserve to be anywhere near you." the words were met with Dorian looking away, blinking fast to keep tears hidden. "I see more of you than I think I ever have." Paul whispered, squeezing his thigh in reassurance. The words were quiet and honest. No poetry, no heartfelt letters. Just the simple truth. "I uh, I hate how weak I feel now. I still need help with so much and I hate it. Every time you help me, I feel like I'm failing myself." Dorian confessed, swallowing hard. "You're healing, Fruit. There's a very big difference." Paul's voice was steady, sure of himself. "What about you?" 

"Trying." Paul stared at Dorian, nearly unblinking, "Every time I close my eyes, I see your blood coating my hands, the sound of your body hitting the ground. That's not something that can leave easily." Dorian reached for his hand, holding it with a quiet love that Paul was slowly becoming familiar with. For the first time in a month, Dorian leaned his head on Paul's shoulder, both content to watch the rain fall. No more words were traded, just soft exhales and the quiet rhythm of hearts that had nearly lost one another finally beating in sync again. 

Chapter Text

The steam curled around Dorian as he stood under the water of Paul', no, their shower. His body couldn't handle the scalding heat as much anymore, but he'd make due. The scars were soft mockers about the changes he had to make to accommodate, but fuck it. He was way to into his head to register the bathroom door had opened, the sound of clothes silently falling. He only focused back on the present when large calloused hands cradled his hips and a soft kiss was pressed to his shoulder. "Mind if I join?" Paul whispered, but Dorian seen no point in answering. The man was already naked and in the shower, who was Dorian to tell him to leave? He leaned back into Paul, sighing softly. Paul's hands began to roam, experimental. This was the first time they had ever been intimately close. Sure, Paul has helped him bathe but that was during his recovery, not.... this and they both could tell this would have a different outcome. 

Paul slowly turned Dorian around, both looking at each other in soft silence that was too heavy to simmer down. Dorian felt Paul's hand go to his neck to drag him into a kiss. It wasn't soft at all. God no, it was rough, teeth, tongue, and pure possession from both sides. Months had been building this up and neither were gonna fucking stop. Paul's fingertips grazed along the scars that ran along Dorian's body, "I want you. I'm tired of holding back." he admitted quietly, gruff. "Always yours, Hun." Dorian whispered, arching his throat so Paul had more room, his stubble scratching as he kissed the column of neck. Paul's teeth latched at the pulse point, sucking a mark into it before soothing it with a kiss so he could move to another spot. Dorian let his hands run along the taunt muscles of his partner's back, hard and solid. It was reassuring in more ways than one. Paul kissed down and down till he was on his knees. Paul never got on his knees for no man, but if it was Dorian? He'd crawl. 

He kissed Dorian's hip before biting hard onto it, making sure a full mark was there. Dorian was a mix of gasps and moans, too light headed to even make words. "Is this okay?" Paul's eyes were on his mate's face, waiting for the green light to eat. "Yeah." Dorian huffed, letting Paul drape his leg on a shoulder. Paul kissed his clit before swiping a tongue along his whole cunt. It didn't take Paul long to get it how Dorian liked, nose bumping his clit, two fingers inside curling in a come here motion as his tongue darted back and forth. Dorian slid a hand into the older man's hair, tugging the dark roots. "Fuck Paul." "Yeah you will, alright." Paul smirked when Dorian tugged his hair harder. The shower was still going, drowning out the groans both had leaving their mouths. "I'm, fuck, I'm gonna come, love." Dorian panted out, thighs twitching but Paul didn't stop. He sped his fingers up, moving his mouth to suck on Dorian's clit harshly as his eyes kept glued to his face. To say Dorian's taste of release was delicious would've been a fucking understatement for Paul, it was as if he had finally found some semblance of heaven. He helped Dorian ride it out before he pulled away and was tugging his boyfriend out the shower just to make him bend over the sink counter infront of the mirror. "Can I take you, sweet boy?" Paul kissed along his spine, "God yes. It'd be a crime if you didn't." "What's more comfortable for you? Front or back?" the question stalled a lot of Dorian's thoughts. "I uh...Back?" it was a question, but Paul didn't mind. He never would. 

Dorian's eyes followed Paul as he went to the room and came back, the distinct pop of a cap had a shiver running up his back. "It's gonna hurt, I wont lie about that." Paul kissed at his shoulder, rubbing two fingers coated with lube against Dorian's ass. "Shit...Jesus." Dorian leaned more into the cold counter. The gasp that left Dorian's lips as Paul slotted two fingers inside him sent more need through Paul, the feeling, the want to fill Dorian was skyrocketing, but he wouldn't make his mate take it rough till he asked for it. "That's it, sucking me right in like the good boy you are." Paul kissed his shoulder, eyes on Dorian's through the mirror. The look of pain and pleasure that greeted him made it worth it. It didn't take long for Dorian to get stretched out enough, whimpering when Paul slid his fingers out. Dorian's breaths came in ragged, his body quivering from Paul's touch. With a mix of anticipation and excitement, he looked over his shoulder, "Please, baby. I need you." Paul's lips curled into a small possessive smile, "You're mine, only mine." both men groaning weakly as Paul grinded into his ass. 

Dorian adjusted, letting his back arch, "Yeah? Prove it." the words earned a rough chuckle from Paul, his chest pressed into Dorian's back "You sure about that? If I do, you'll be sore as hell tomorrow." Dorian's breath hitched, feeling Paul's rough hands gripping his hips. "Do it. I want to feel you. Make me remember I'm yours." Paul's grip on his hips tightened, there'd definitely be bruises by the morning. The words that had left Dorian's mouth seemed to have hit a special spot in Paul's mind, something primal. "Oh you'll remember alright." His mouth latching on his shoulder to suck another hickey, "I'll make sure I mark you inside and you." he went back to making more marks on Dorian's shoulder. Paul's control was slipping, the sound of Dorian's soft moans was killing his patience to no ends, he tilted Dorian's chip up, making him look in the mirror, "Look at you. So desperate." Dorian's scarred chest planted firmly into the cold counter, the way Paul was acting had him aching. Paul pulled away, popping open the lube again just to soak his cock in it. "Brace yourself, love." 

Paul aligned himself with Dorian and sank in, both shuddering at the fact they were finally this close. Dorian was tight, Paul was thick. "Just like that, baby." Paul groaned weakly, taking a moment to enjoy the fact he was able to bottom out without hurting his mate. "So perfect. Gonna make you feel so good." he reassured, rolling his hips, eliciting a moan from Dorian. "Gimme more, Hun. I can take it." Dorian pleaded, need and pleasure lacing his words. One of Paul's hands slid down the front of Dorian, letting his fingers rub soft circles on his clit as he kept rolling his hips. Dorian was a blessed out mess already, he was shocked himself since he wasn't the type to get off this fast, but here he was already feeling the hot coil of a building orgasm in his lower gut. "Fuck, I-I'm already close." his voice was strained, a mix of amusement at his own body and pleasure from Paul's consistent ministrations. 

In the morning, Dorian was sore and he hated that he had to admit Paul was right. Both were still undressed, yet in bed...a bed that was tilted. Jesus. They broke the bed. The small laugh from Dorian's lips cause Paul to blink awake. "What's funny?" "We broke the damn bed, Paul." 

Paul turned over to fully face him, "Yeah, it was great. Last night was...." "Amazing." both men laugh, smiling as Paul drags Dorian closer, "I'll get a new frame, I don't care." his hands massaged Dorian's hips where there was prominent bruising from the night before. "I love you." Dorian whispered as he rested his head under Paul's chin. "I love you too, Fruit."

Chapter Text

The morning came slow, gold light spilling across the windows of Paul’s room, warming the wooden floorboards and cutting through the last shadows of night.Dorian stretched, bare chest rising, his ribs catching the light where old scars slashed across skin. He didn’t bother with a shirt when he sat up, hair falling in damp curls from the shower he’d taken earlier. The scars weren’t fresh anymore. They weren’t red, angry reminders. They had healed into pale, jagged lines that mapped his torso like constellations. Paul stirred beside him, the sheets tangled at his hips, the planes of his muscled back flexing as he stretched with a low groan. He glanced over, eyes flicking across Dorian’s chest with that familiar mix of softness and hunger. "You're staring." Dorian teased, smiling. "You're mine. I'm allowed too." Paul smirked, head coming to rest on his hand as he propped up on an elbow. Dorian rolled his eyes but didn’t reach for a shirt. That was the difference now. Months ago, he'd have hidden them, made sure eyes didn't pry too long. Now? He was done hiding. 

The sound of footsteps thudded down the hall. A dozen heartbeats. The pack was awake. Paul groaned. “They’re loud already.” “They’re wolves,” Dorian said simply, pushing off the bed. His scars caught the light again, a flash of pale against tan skin. Paul reached out, catching his wrist, eyes soft. “Hey.” Dorian shook his head before Paul could finish. “I’m fine. They can look if they want.” He leaned in, pressed a quick kiss to Paul’s temple. “I’m done hiding.” Paul let go of his hand, a mix of protectiveness and resignation in his eyes. Paul wasn't ashamed of Dorian's scars, sure he still hated that he gave them to his mate, but he wasn't ashamed. Never ashamed. The kitchen was alive with noise when they walked in. Jacob and Embry were already shoveling food into their mouths, Leah sat perched on the counter, arms crossed, Quil was cracking jokes too loud for the morning hour, and Emily was bustling at the stove. The conversations faltered for just a beat when Dorian entered—shirtless, casual, unbothered. The pack’s chatter dimmed, eyes flicking toward the scars etched across his chest and sides. Some looked only once, some stared a little longer. Dorian grabbed a mug, poured himself coffee like nothing was different. “Morning.” “Morning, dear.” Emily returned warmly, her gaze steady, kind. Emily was a wonderful woman, even with the facial scarring. Dorian sipped his coffee, not hiding, not folding his shoulders inward. He leaned casually against the counter, the scars on full display, the faint pull of skin over his ribs when he shifted.

Leah was the first to break the tension. “About damn time,” she said flatly but there was a small smile and approval in her eyes. Dorian raised a brow, mug half way to his mouth. “What?” “You acting like you belong here. Like you don’t gotta cover up to make us comfortable, duh." the smile turned to a smirk before she was going back to her breakfast. Paul bristled slightly at all the attention, shoulders tight, but Dorian reached under the counter to squeeze his hand where no one else could see. A silent reassurance. "Soooooooo," Quil drawled out, "When's the wedding?" Dorian nearly choked on his coffee. Wedding? "Seriously, kid?" Paul rolled his eyes. Quil shrugged, "Might as well. You two aren't ever splitting up." which was true but that wasn't the point. "In our own time." Dorian answered the question, keeping to his coffee, even after Paul had taken a moment to stare. 

The fire popped, embers floating up into the dark sky, carrying with them the scent of charred wood and pine. The pack had long since dispersed into the night, leaving the clearing strangely hushed.  Only Paul and Dorian lingered, bodies pressed together beneath a thick blanket. Paul’s arm tightened subtly around him, thumb brushing circles into his side. Silence lingered, soft and companionable, until Paul finally spoke, voice low and husky, "In our own time huh?" Dorian pulled away to look at Paul, "What?" "When Quil asked about us getting married, you said In our own time." For once, Paul looked unsure. “In our own time,” Dorian said simply. The words rolled out with a weight that quieted everything around them. He didn’t flinch from it, didn’t dress it up as a joke. Just truth. "You would want to get married to me?' Paul whispered, as if he wasn't sure he was ready to hear it. "I would, if that's what we wanted. It's a paper and a name change, I'm still yours as much as you're mine, Paul." Dorian reassured, giving a quick kiss to Paul's jaw. Paul shifted, tucking Dorian tighter against his chest. It was easy. The kind of easy Paul never thought he’d get. 

"It still amazes me some days. That I'm here, that you're here." Paul admitted with a sigh, "I never thought I could be this...content in my life." Dorian smiled, curling tighter into Paul's warmth, "I'm glad you're happy, my love. You deserve it." 

Chapter Text

The kitchen was warm, filled with the smells of garlic and rosemary, the rhythmic sound of a knife on a cutting board. Emily hummed quietly as she stirred a pot on the stove, her scarred cheek glowing in the soft light. Dorian stood beside her, sleeves pushed up, cutting vegetables with an easy precision he’d picked up from helping her more often than not these past few months.Paul was out with the rest of the pack, running patrols. Normally, Dorian found the house too quiet without him, but today the calm was welcome. No one to tease, no one to hover. Just the soft, grounding comfort of Emily’s company. Emily chuckled suddenly, nudging him with her elbow. “You cut carrots like you’re about to fight them.” He snorted, shaking his head. “I don’t fight carrots, Emily. That’s beneath me.”

She grinned, shaking her head, and the room settled into that steady rhythm again — chop, stir, hum, breathe. Until the cinnamon hit.It came out of nowhere. One moment, the sweet spice drifted from the pan of baked apples on the counter, and the next Dorian was lurching back, knife clattering on the counter. His stomach twisted violently, and before he could stop it, he was doubling over, gagging into the sink. Emily’s head snapped toward him instantly. “Dorian?!” He waved her off with a trembling hand, trying to breathe through it. Normally, cinnamon was his favorite. Comforting, warm, like home. But right now the smell clawed at his senses like poison. His stomach heaved again, and he barely made it before he was sick. By the time he rinsed his mouth and stood, Emily was watching him with narrowed, knowing eyes. “Don’t look at me like that,” Dorian muttered, gripping the edge of the counter.Emily only tilted her head. “Like what?” “Like you know something I don’t.” Before Dorian could argue, lunch was finished. He sat down with her, trying to shake it off. He was starving, and the food looked incredible. Roasted chicken, potatoes, the apples he hadn’t gone near. But when he took the first bite, the warmth on his tongue turned sour, his stomach rebelling before he could swallow. He bolted up again, barely making it to the sink a second time. This time, when he turned back, pale and shaking, Emily wasn’t smiling. She was studying him with quiet intensity, her hands folded over her belly, her scars pulled tight in thought. “Dorian,” she said softly. “Go to Sam and I's bathroom." 

"Why the hell would I do that?" Dorian rinsed his mouth out, "Just...There's pregnancy tests in the bottom drawer. Take two as a just in case. I know you're on testosterone, but I also know you can still get pregnant." Emily's words made him freeze, Paul and him hadn't been safe during sex in the slightest. "Oh fuck." he mumbled, not arguing more as we went upstairs to head for the bathroom. The walk to it was nerve wracking, locking the door behind him before going to open the bottom drawer and grabbing two tests out. One digital and the other one was a regular test. His throat went dry. His hands shook around the tests as though it burned him. A thousand excuses rushed through him, but none made it past his lips to convince himself he wasn't pregnant. Minutes stretched into eternity. He paced. He stared at the little stick like it was written in another language. He cursed under his breath, willing his shaking hands to steady as he finally followed the instructions. He set the two tests down on the cool counter, waiting for the three minutes to be done so he could know if his life was going to change or not. Three minutes were too long and not long enough as he flipped them over. A smiley face and two pink lines stared back at him. Positive. He was pregnant. Paul and him were gonna have a baby. Dorian sat on the closed toilet lid, staring down at them, chest tight and breath shallow. His scars felt hot against his skin, his whole body trembling. He didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or both at once. What the fuck was he going to tell Paul? Did Paul want kids this soon? Would he be happy? 

The pack house was alive with noise when Paul returned from patrol, his voice booming with Embry’s laughter and Jacob’s teasing trailing after him. Dorian had spent the last hour pacing in the kitchen, pretending to help Emily slice vegetables but unable to keep food down, unable to stop thinking about the tests in his pocket. The lines and the smiley face had been so clear. No room for doubt. No room to breathe. By the time Paul’s heavy footsteps entered the kitchen, Dorian thought he might come apart. Paul’s grin was wide and careless, sweat dampening his temples as he tossed his shirt aside. He smelled of earth and salt air, comforting and grounding. He leaned in without hesitation, kissing the top of Dorian’s head like it was the most natural thing in the world. “You look pale, babe,” Paul murmured, pulling back to study him with furrowed brows. “What’s wrong? You sick?” Dorian’s throat went dry. He couldn’t hide this. Not from Paul. Not from the one person whose warmth had carried him through every moment of self-doubt. "We uh, we need to talk, love. Alone, no ears to hear." Dorian leaned into him, head buried in Paul's shoulder. "Okay, we can do that. Totally can do that." Paul reassured, feeling a pang of nerves swirling in his stomach. 

When they got to the back porch, where no one was or stayed away, Dorian finally sighed, anxious and scared as hell. "What is it, Fruit? What's wrong?" Paul's words were soft, worried for his mate. Slowly, almost painfully, he pulled his hand from his pocket. Paul’s gaze dropped as Dorian revealed the pregnancy tests, the small pieces of plastic trembling between his fingers. For a second, silence ruled the space. Paul blinked, frown deepening as his brain caught up. His lips parted, words stuck in his throat. “You—” His voice cracked, raw. “You’re…” Dorian’s breath stuttered, eyes burning. “We’re gonna have a baby.” The test nearly slipped from his hand as Paul surged forward, cupping Dorian’s face with both hands, tilting it up until their eyes locked. His chest heaved with sharp breaths, dark eyes flickering with something wild — fear, joy, awe, all tangled together. “Say that again,” he rasped, desperate. Dorian swallowed hard, voice trembling but steady enough. “Paul, we’re having a baby.” This time Paul didn’t hesitate. He kissed him, deep, fierce, grounding, and when he pulled back, his forehead pressed against Dorian’s, his entire frame trembling. “Holy shit,” he whispered, laughter breaking through the cracks of his voice. “You’re serious. You’re...God, you’re serious.” Dorian felt the weight of fear ease under the warmth of Paul’s embrace. Paul didn’t let go for a long time. His arms wrapped around Dorian like they were the only barrier between him and the world. The usual restless energy that kept him pacing, twitching, snapping at the smallest irritation was gone. He was steady. Quiet.When Dorian finally pulled back enough to look at him, Paul’s eyes were glassy, rimmed red at the edges. He tried to laugh it off, brushing his thumb across Dorian’s jaw. “Guess I really can’t ever say you don’t keep me on my toes, huh?” 

Dorian gave a wet chuckle, half laugh, half sob. “You’re not… upset?” Paul’s expression softened in a way that Dorian had only seen in rare, private moments. “Upset?” he repeated, voice low, rough. “Dorian… I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared in my life. But upset? No. Never. This," He pressed his palm gently against Dorian’s stomach, careful, reverent. “This is ours. You hear me? Ours. And I’m not going anywhere.” Dorian’s breath caught at the warmth of that hand, the weight of those words. He nodded quickly, clutching Paul’s wrist to keep it there, against him. They stood in silence, the muffled laughter of the pack spilling in from the dining room, but in that moment the noise felt miles away. The world shrank down to just the two of them and the secret pulsing quietly between them. Paul bent his head, kissed Dorian’s temple with a care that made his chest ache. “We’ll tell them when you’re ready,” he murmured. “Until then, this stays between us. Just us.” 

Chapter Text

The drive to the clinic was quiet, but not in the way it used to be when silence meant tension. Paul’s hand never left Dorian’s knee, his thumb brushing absent patterns over the denim. He was nervous—Dorian could feel it in the slight twitch of his leg, the way his jaw clenched when traffic slowed—but he was trying. Dorian, for his part, felt like his stomach was in knots. Not just from nerves. From everything. He still hadn’t told the pack. Not even Emily, who’d given him careful, curious glances these past weeks. It was just theirs, his and Paul’s. And today, they’d see the proof. The exam room smelled sharp with antiseptic and something faintly floral. The nurse chatted kindly as she prepped the machine, but Dorian barely heard her. His heart pounded in his chest, sweat prickling at his temple as he lay back on the table. The gel was cold, and Paul’s grip on his hand tightened instantly, grounding him. "Breathe, Fruit. You got this."  Dorian exhaled shakily, lips quirking. “You first.”

Paul huffed a laugh, but his eyes didn’t leave Dorian’s face. The big screen on the wall infront of them lit up. The grainy black-and-white image flickered to life, and the room went quiet. The nurse angled the probe, brows lifting. "Okay, so Baby A is looking amazing...Baby B is also looking really good." wait. Dorian arched an eyebrow, "Baby A and B?" The Nurse smiled, "Yep. You two dads are having twins, still too soon to see their genders but both look amazing." Twins. Fucking Twins. Dorian’s breath caught. At first he couldn’t make sense of the shapes, but then—two distinct pulses and two little babies on the screen. Two tiny fluttering heartbeats. “Two?” he whispered, voice cracking. “There’s… two?” Paul froze. His head whipped toward the monitor, then back to Dorian, then back again, as if he couldn’t trust his own eyes. “Wait—like… twins? You mean—” His voice broke, rough with disbelief. “Holy shit.” The nurse smiled warmly, reassuring for a third time “Both look healthy. Strong heartbeats.” Paul’s laugh burst out, half-choked, half-incredulous. He dropped his forehead against Dorian’s hand, clutching it like a lifeline. “Babe, we’re— We’re having two.”

Dorian’s eyes blurred with tears. The fear, the nerves, the what-ifs—they all collided into a mess of laughter and sobs. “You’re not gonna survive this,” he teased weakly, voice shaking. Paul lifted his head, eyes bright, wild with wonder. “I don’t care if it kills me. Two babies? Ours? Dorian…” He leaned down, kissed him fiercely, right there in front of the nurse. “I swear, I’ve never loved you more.” The machine kept humming, the tiny heartbeats filling the room, steady and strong. And for the first time, Dorian let himself imagine it—two little lives, their lives, waiting to be met.

Paul couldn’t stop staring at the strip of glossy black-and-white photos clutched in his hand. He drove one-handed the whole way back, the other holding the printouts up to the light every few seconds like they might change if he looked long enough.

“Keep your eyes on the road, wolfboy,” Dorian muttered, but there was no heat in it. He was turned toward the window, one arm folded protectively across his stomach. His voice was soft, careful. “I can’t believe it. Two.” Paul barked a laugh, eyes flicking between the road and the pictures. “Believe it, babe. We make overachievers, apparently.” Dorian snorted, but it didn’t quite hide the nerves trembling beneath his skin. Paul reached over, lacing their fingers together. His warmth burned steady, grounding. “You’re not doing this alone,” Paul said firmly, voice low but certain. “Scared? Fine. I’m scared too. But we’re in this together. Every step. Got it?” Dorian looked at him then, the weight of it all threatening to crush him, but Paul’s hand in his made it bearable. He nodded once, tight but sure. “Got it.”

By the time they reached the pack house, the noise of voices and laughter spilled onto the porch. The wolves were already gathered, bickering over a half-eaten pie Emily had set out. Paul shot Dorian a wicked grin as he tucked the ultrasound photos into his back pocket. “Ready to make them all choke on their food?” Dorian’s heart pounded, but he nodded. “Do it before I lose my nerve.” The moment they stepped inside, Quil was the first to notice. “Hey, the lovebirds are back!” he hollered, grinning wide. “Where’ve you been, huh?” Paul ignored him, striding into the center of the room like he owned it. He pulled the photos from his pocket and slapped them down on the table. “We’ve got news.” Conversations died instantly. Heads swiveled. Jacob leaned forward, squinting at the grainy images. “Wait… is that—” Embry’s eyes went wide. “No way. Dude. Are those babies?” “Babies?” Jared echoed, nearly choking on his soda. “Plural,” Paul said proudly, throwing an arm around Dorian’s shoulders. “That’s right. Two. We’re having twins.” For a second, silence. Then chaos. Shouts, whistles, laughter, a dozen voices overlapping at once. Leah smirked from the corner, arms crossed, though her eyes were brighter than usual. Emily pressed her hands to her mouth, already tearing up. Sam shook his head, though his lips twitched. “Of course you’d have to outdo the rest of us.” Paul’s grin was feral, but when he glanced down at Dorian, it softened. “Guess we’re just that good.” The room erupted again, everyone crowding in to look at the photos, to clap Dorian on the back, to tease Paul about diaper duty. Through it all, Dorian stood steady, pressed against Paul’s side, the weight of fear lightened by the warmth of pack laughter.