Night after night, three or four times every night, Casey would jerk awake beside him, yanking Adam awake along with him. Sometimes there were tears on his face, a cry echoing in the air, but some of the dreams seemed to be... not bad, exactly, just unsettling.

Casey blinked owlishly at Adam for a moment and then said, “Dancing. Remember?”

It was five days after that call to Alpha Niemi, and by now Adam had managed to get it through his head that Remember? was Casey asking a favor, not a question. Remember this for me? Remember that I told you this?

In the morning Adam would remind him, and Casey would tell Adam what it was he’d remembered, adding it to his little stock of returning memories.

He nodded. “I’ll remember, Case. Dancing.”

Casey nodded, satisfied, and settled down to sleep again, while Adam lay awake for a few moments longer, repeating the word to fix it in his mind with Casey warm and drowsy and trusting, sleeping in Adam’s arms, surrounded by Adam’s scent, and seeming unafraid.

Dancing. He would remember. He’d promised.

There had been no further sign of Casey’s erstwhile packmate/stalker, but Adam watched Casey look around for him hopefully every time they stepped out of doors. They stopped twice on the drive to Thief River Falls even though they could have made it without a break. Each time, Casey wandered around parking lots, looking hopefully into the distance, but he didn’t appear to catch so much as a whiff.

Adam couldn’t tell if he was jealous or just angry at whoever the mystery alpha was for stringing Casey along like this, showing himself once or twice and then hiding when Casey was finally ready to meet him.

Adam was so focused on watching Casey that he forgot to even think of looking out for himself. He wasn’t at all prepared for what happened in Thief River Falls, which by all rights could have happened to him all the way back in Olmsted County.

He encountered a familiar face from his own past.

Joey Hathaway—maybe Joey Huber-Klein, now, if they’d taken the name of the pack when they joined it—was grinning at him, front and center in the welcoming party. “Adam! I guess you do remember me, huh?”

“Joey,” Adam said blankly, stepping forward in a daze, feeling seventeen years old again.

He and Joey were only a few months apart in age, born in the same pack. They were some kind of kin to each other, third or fourth cousins or just nebulously packmates. Joey was the first omega Adam had known who had declared, when asked as a kid, that they weren’t a girl or a boy. They were an omega, they’d said, nothing more, nothing less.

Adam had lived with Joey and their mom for a while, in his erratic fosterage tour after his dad died and before his father took him back. Once Adam started going to the local public schools, as all Hathaway pack kids did for middle and high school, he and Joey had shared a seat in the van twice a day until Joey went off on exchange for junior year.

Adam’s goodbye, before Joey left, had been as surly and awful as he had been capable of at age sixteen, which was... very. He seemed to recall it involving the words, I don’t care if you leave, I was never going to be your mate, what do I care?

Except Adam’s heart was beating oddly, and he found that all these years later, he did care. Not like that—he had Casey, and Casey was far more than he could ever have imagined—but... Joey had been a part of his life for years, a part of his life Adam had cut himself off from and done his best to forget. But the first seventeen years of his life hadn’t all been terrible. Joey had been his friend—despite how difficult Adam had obviously made that, since he was only realizing it right now.

“Hey,” Joey said, and tugged Adam into a hug. “Hey, I didn’t think I was going to rock your world that hard. You okay?”

Adam nodded mutely, taking a step back when Joey loosened their hold. “Yeah. I... are you?”

Joey grinned again. “Yep, I recovered from my tragic crush on you at least nine years ago, got mated and had a couple kids—all of which I’ll be putting down on your survey, but I figured you could stand to hear it like a person, too.”

Casey made an interested noise at his side, and Adam turned to look at him, feeling completely lost now. “Casey,” he said. “Uh...”

He hadn’t even told Casey where he came from, the name of his father’s pack. He hadn’t meant to ever have any contact with them again. It hadn’t occurred to him that his own past wouldn’t stay buried in one place any more than Casey’s would.

“Joey Hathaway,” Joey said, offering a friendly hand to Casey. “You’re the omega who finally got Adam down off his high horse?”

“I mean, usually people call me Casey,” he said, leaning into Adam’s side. “But that is one of my ceremonial titles, yeah.”

Joey grinned. “Well, if you need embarrassing adolescent Adam stories, hit me up later. Adam—” Joey turned to focus on him, and their expression turned serious and soft all at once. “I’m not the only one from back home who’s missed you, you know? He’s been hanging on every little thing anyone could tell him about you, this last month or so.”

Casey went rigid against Adam’s side. Adam could only nod. He had been trying very hard, the last few days, not to think about his father, but apparently he wasn’t staying gone either.

Joey nodded back, smiling a little sadly, and turned away.

Casey got one arm firmly around Adam’s back and steered him back to the car, going around it and opening the trunk like they urgently needed to unpack something instead of finishing greeting their hosts. Adam let him, and stared into the accumulated strata of clothes and packing supplies, desperate for a moment to regain his equilibrium. As soon as they had the barest shield from the attention of the Huber-Klein pack, he tightened his arms around Casey, clinging shamelessly. Casey held on just as tight, his scent turning soft and soothing as Adam breathed him in.

After a while, when Adam’s heartbeat had settled to match the unhurried rhythm of Casey’s, Casey wiggled a little. Adam loosened his grip enough for Casey to look up at him.

His expression was a little rueful. “So, uh, in the interests of full disclosure,” Casey said. “You were not actually subtle about refusing to visit the Hathaway pack. It was pretty obvious that that’s where you grew up and that you didn’t want to talk about it. Or to them.”

Adam just blinked at him. He’d have been less stricken—and a hundred times less shocked—if Casey had punched him in the throat.

Casey winced and shook his head. “Never mind. Don’t think too hard about it, okay? You don’t have to do anything with any of this information, and I can interview Joey by myself if you don’t want to see them.”

“No.” Adam squared his shoulders. “No, I’m not letting you pump them for awful stories about me without supervision.”

Casey smiled a little. “You ruin all my fun.”

Adam didn’t remember again until they were getting ready for bed that night, stripping to their underwear but no further. They still hadn’t done more than share a bed and exchange a few kisses since the empty moon. An omega’s libido usually waxed along with the moon, but even if the stuff Casey was dealing with right now hadn’t put a damper on things, the amount of wolfsbane he was taking to stay calm about it probably would.

Adam was sitting on the edge of the bed in his boxers, watching Casey—wearing close-fitting bright blue underwear—sort through the contents of his big duffle bag. “Oh, hey, you told me last night to remember for you. You said dancing.”

Casey squinted at Adam for a moment, and then his expression eased, and he smiled slightly, straightening up from the bag. “Yeah, it was... celebrating something? Must’ve been. We danced outside. I liked... twirling.”

Casey’s expression turned a little baffled at that, and Adam allowed himself to picture Casey-who-was-called-Katie at four or five years old, braids flying, probably some homespun dress flaring out as he twirled around in the firelight. It was an image that barely seemed to connect with the Casey he knew, and he wondered if that memory felt as alien to Casey, even now that it was taking up residence in his own head.

“More moves than I’ve got,” Adam volunteered after a moment spent groping for some way to respond without prodding for more or dismissing it entirely.

Casey snorted, flashing him a smile that looked grateful as much as amused. “I’ve developed my repertoire a little in the last twenty years.”

Adam nodded. He could picture that a lot more comfortably, Casey on a dance floor in the kind of club where Adam used to hook up, swinging his slim hips and drawing every eye. Adam wouldn’t have let himself approach a guy like Casey, even if he was human—anybody as slim and small and lovely as Casey would have been, well, too much like an omega. Too much like someone Adam could hurt.

But Adam wouldn’t have been able to tear his eyes away, he was sure. He would have watched Casey all night, and Casey would have—

As if he sensed that train of thought, Casey swung his hips a little, and Adam’s eyes followed like Casey’s ass was a hypnotist’s watch. Casey laughed softly, which finally drew Adam’s eyes back up to his face, but Casey wasn’t looking at him. He’d grabbed his phone off the dresser and was tapping at it; a voice and an electric guitar riff burst out of it together, and Casey set it down and started dancing to the sharp rhythm, arms up and hips rocking.

Adam sat back and stared, so mesmerized by watching Casey move that he hardly noticed his own body’s response. He was only aware of the music as the beat that drove Casey’s movements until the chorus started up, a quick call-and-response: Dance with me, come on, dance with me.

Casey grinned then, turning to look straight at Adam and holding one hand out, fingers beckoning, while he kept on dancing.

The memory hit Adam of dancing with his dad during full moons, laughing and shimmying and—twirling, just as much as Casey ever had when he was a kid. Adam hadn’t danced since, and he’d never really thought about why, but now he was here with Casey and Casey had chosen this song. Casey wanted Adam to dance with him, and he was smiling, holding out his hand.

He’d laugh, if Adam refused. He’d keep dancing. But Adam hadn’t danced in such a long time, and... he hadn’t known what he was waiting for, but he was pretty sure Casey was it.

Adam stood and took Casey’s hand, and Casey laughed in delight and put a hand on Adam’s hip, guiding him along with the quick rhythm as the chorus ended. Adam tried not to think—and definitely not to remember. He focused on Casey’s body, trying to make his own echo those lithe movements. Casey was grinning, his scent warm with the movement and full of delight, and Adam realized as the next chorus hit that he was grinning himself.

Casey danced in close and then spun away, still holding Adam’s hand, and Adam found that he remembered how to do that much, raising his arm and shifting his grip with Casey’s movement. Casey raised his eyebrows when he’d reached the furthest point of the spin, and Adam shrugged and gave a little pull, drawing Casey to spin right back in to press against his chest.

They danced that way to the end of the song, though it hardly fit the rhythm at all. They were body to body, skin to skin almost everywhere as they moved with the bright, upbeat sound. Adam couldn’t look away from Casey’s bright blue eyes looking up at him. When the song ended, the silence was shocking, their breathing and heartbeats seeming to thunder without any other sound to cover them.

Adam ducked his head, hesitating just short of a kiss until Casey huffed and pushed up into it.

It was a lingering kiss, open-mouthed and heated but not rushed. It was nothing like the gentle kiss they’d exchanged when Casey asked Adam to spend the empty moon with him, but it was a kiss that remembered that one, even while the waxing moon shone on them.

Still, it might only be a kiss, for all that Adam was hard, and he could feel the heat of Casey’s body pressing unreservedly against his. “Do you want...?”

“Mm-hm,” Casey said. “I don’t know what exactly, and I’m gonna need some slow-dancing to start with, but yeah. I want.”

Well, that was perfectly clear. Adam tightened his arm around Casey’s waist and tipped him back just a little to kiss him again. Casey leaned into it, trusting some of his weight to Adam’s hold, and let Adam have control of the kiss for about thirty seconds before he was pushing back into it, his tongue matching Adam’s stroke for stroke.

Casey pushed up tighter against Adam, making his cock throb where it was trapped between them. Casey’s leg came up to wrap around Adam’s hips, and Adam’s hand slid down to the cheek of Casey’s ass as it was spread open. He still didn’t smell wet, but he was obviously ready to be persuaded.

Adam turned, pulling Casey up entirely into his arms as he did, and lowered him to the bed, following him down so he didn’t have to let go. He did brace himself above Casey, getting enough distance to look him in the eye. “You going to let me lead, or are you running this slow dance?”

“Mm,” Casey’s lips were already red with kisses, his cheeks a little flushed. “I’ll give you the first minute to show me you know where you’re going. After that I’ll let you know.”

Adam grinned. “Do that.”

“As if you could stop me,” Casey said, wriggling under him with impatience, or maybe just drawing Adam’s attention downward.

They’d never had sex when Casey wasn’t the one who needed it, so he had no idea what Casey liked other than being fucked when he wanted to be fucked. Adam felt a lightning-quick flash of worry about getting this right, and then it occurred to him that it didn’t really matter. If he did something Casey didn’t like, Casey would say so, and if he wasn’t doing what Casey wanted or needed, Casey would tell him what that was.

Still, he felt an alpha’s urge to take charge, to give his—Casey—everything he needed.

Adam kissed Casey’s mouth one more time, and then shifted his attention to exploring. Whether it was exactly what Casey wanted or not, Adam wanted to know all of him, to taste everything and learn every response. He nuzzled and kissed at the pulse point under Casey’s jaw, feeling the throb of blood under his lips and breathing in Casey’s scent as the silk of Casey’s hair seemed to return the caress.

Casey hummed softly, not discouraging but not particularly pleasured, either. Adam moved downward, shifting his weight onto his knees so he could span Casey’s ribcage with his hands, his thumbs brushing just below each nipple. Casey nodded sharply at that, bringing one hand up to rest over Adam’s.

Adam kissed his knuckles first, until Casey said sharply, “Adam.”

Adam laughed softly but adjusted course, brushing a nipple with one thumb as he flicked the tip of his tongue over the other. That got a moan from Casey, and Adam kept it up, experimenting with sucking and a little scrape of teeth, then lighter touches and kisses, until Casey’s hand left his and moved down to shove at his underwear.

Casey made a little irritated sound when Adam took his mouth and hands away from Casey’s chest, moving lower again. Adam smiled against his skin and blew against the pale skin of his belly, making Casey shiver and bite off a startled laugh instead.

“No tickling,” Casey said, squirming more purposefully as Adam’s fingers hooked into the waistband of his underwear. “Tickling will get you kicked in the mouth.”

“Got it,” Adam assured him, nuzzling the length of Casey’s cock as it was revealed. It was proportional to the rest of him—smaller than Adam’s, but a solid handful even when it was only half-hard. Adam curled two fingers around the base as he licked around the head and felt it twitch against his tongue.

Casey squirmed again, trying to kick his underwear off when it was only halfway down his thighs. Adam felt a surge of temptation to keep it there, to pin him in place and keep doing this, tasting and teasing.

Then he sat straight up, freeing Casey’s legs. Casey gave him a narrow-eyed look as they managed, together, to get Casey’s underwear off in only twice the time it would have taken Casey by himself.

But he didn’t ask why Adam had pulled away so abruptly. He just drew his legs up as soon as his feet were free, and flipped over, spreading his legs wide and planting his knees. He was utterly open, hips tipped up to show his hole, pink and tender and not wet at all, yet.

“Slow dance, huh,” Adam said, resting one hand on the back of Casey’s thigh.

“Slow,” Casey agreed. “But not, like. Glacial.”

“Mm,” Adam said, settling into place and breathing in the scent of Casey, warm and interested and just not quite there yet. “Okay.”

Adam pressed a kiss to Casey’s tailbone, just above the cleft of his ass. Casey hummed in the same quietly encouraging way he had when Adam kissed his throat, and Adam smiled against his skin. There really was no danger of Casey letting him get this wrong.

Still, Adam wasn’t going to rush, even if he had a feeling that Casey didn’t quite know the meaning of taking things slow. Adam had never done much of that himself, in his scattered history of one-time hookups. Definitely he’d never asked—or allowed—anyone to take it slow with him. But there should be nothing but pleasure in this for Casey.

For Casey, he was happy to figure it out. He settled one hand on the cheek of Casey’s ass, caressing the soft skin and feeling the muscle flex. He kissed there, and on the other side, breathing in Casey’s scent and absorbing every tiny movement, every twitch of response.

When he felt like he’d dragged it out as long as either he or Casey could endure, Adam pressed his lips to Casey’s hole, no more than a touch on that spot. Casey let out an approving sigh, and Adam flicked his tongue out to taste, as if that could make a difference when he was already drowning in the smell.

There was the tiniest flutter of response in the muscle and skin against his tongue, and it shot through Adam, his own cock throbbing in response. He pressed his hips into the mattress, stifling his own reaction. They weren’t there yet, if they were even going to get there; Casey hadn’t been sure what he wanted, whether fucking was a possibility.

He let his mouth open, a wetter touch, and pressed the flat of his tongue against Casey’s opening, still tense and closed for now. Casey moaned at that, pushing back slightly into the contact, and Adam kept it up, licking over and over, varying his pressure and rhythm, teasing out every bit of reaction he could get from Casey.

His mouth watered, slicking his tongue and lips and everywhere they touched, and Casey’s occasional moans became more and more frequent. The rocking of Casey’s hips fell into a rhythm that matched the movements of Adam’s mouth on him, and Adam heard the moment when Casey reached down and closed his hand on his own cock, stroking himself without shame or hesitation.

Adam pressed his thumb to the bottom of Casey’s opening, not to push in but to draw him open just a little, and he was rewarded with the rich musky taste of Casey’s slick. Casey groaned and went still, and Adam pressed in with his tongue and his thumb both, sliding just inside to tease his rim and feel it get slicker.

Casey’s hand moved off his own cock, reaching back for Adam’s hand and just resting there, not pushing him on or pulling him away. Adam drew his tongue back and rocked his thumb in deeper, sliding on spit and slick, and Casey’s fingers tightened on the back of Adam’s hand.

“Yeah?” Adam said, only aware when he spoke of the rubbery feeling of his tongue and lips—it was strange to use them to speak when they had a better purpose.

“Yeah,” Casey said. “Yeah, more, more.”

Adam got back to it, licking and working his thumb inside, and then fingers, sliding in easily to press in just the right spot. Casey gave a sharp little cry, his grip tightening on Adam’s hand again, and Adam kept his movements slow and steady, stroking that spot lightly again and again until Casey’s eager noises went suddenly quiet.

He tightened around Adam’s fingers, pushing back hard against his tongue, and Adam groaned himself as he felt Casey come in slow waves that seemed to shake his whole body. He kept up the caress of his tongue and the little movements of his fingers inside, drawing it out until the last shudder died away and Casey’s grip on his hand finally relaxed.

Adam pressed his face to the back of Casey’s thigh and waited, catching his own breath and squirming only a little. He still had his boxers on, and it would take him about a minute to come if he reached down with his slick fingers and touched himself. Those fingers were still inside Casey, hot and wet and held tight, and Adam could wait.

Casey moved under him, putting both hands down and wiggling his feet and legs. Adam eased his fingers free and pulled back, but Casey only moved to get up on all fours. He looked over his shoulder at Adam with a slightly loopy grin. “Come on, then. Unless you already did?”

Adam tried to say, No, I didn’t, except No was the last thing he wanted to say to Casey right now, so it came out as a strangled, hungry noise. Casey’s grin widened, his gaze sharpening, and he swung his hips in that same inviting way he had when Adam first mentioned dancing.

Adam shut his eyes, trying to pull himself together, and then realized that there was no hope of pulling himself together when Casey was naked and wet and waiting for him. He took another breath to resign himself to this being over very, very fast, and then he shoved his boxers off and got up on his knees between Casey’s thighs.

He had to stop as soon as the head of his cock touched, the pent-up need shivering through him.

Casey tried to push back, and Adam clamped his hands down on Casey’s hips, holding him still. “Hang on,” Adam said, a little strangled. “I just—need to go slow.”

He felt Casey relax, sagging a little, and Adam kept his gaze on his own hands, not daring to look at Casey’s face.

“Okay,” Casey said, and even his voice was almost too soft to bear. “Yeah. Go slow.”

Adam closed his eyes entirely and pushed forward into the slick heat of Casey’s body, inch by careful inch. It felt like more than just pleasure, like something he’d been waiting for longer than the last few weeks. It felt right, and Adam didn’t have enough spare brain cells to tell himself it wasn’t. He could only feel Casey, welcoming him inside.

He was breathless when he felt his hips press against Casey’s ass and realized he was fully inside. He folded down over Casey’s back, wrapping one arm around his chest and resting his forehead on Casey’s shoulder.

He was going to have to move. He could feel the need building, the pleasure that was also a hunger, but right now he had this, and this was perfect. He couldn’t tell whether he was struggling to keep still or was unable to move, but it didn’t matter, not in this exact moment.

Casey shifted under him, and then there was a gentle brush of fingers through his hair. “Okay,” Casey said, very soft. “I’ve got you.”

He remembered, then, that this was the same position they’d been in the last time they did this, at the end of the full moon night. Casey had cried, and then pulled away from him as soon as the moon was down—shifted into his wolf shape and ran away.

That wasn’t happening tonight, not in anything like the same way, but Adam felt a strange prickle in his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried, but he felt suddenly on the verge of it now. Not that he was sad, exactly, but this moment was so fleeting and also too much for his body or mind to contain, and any second now something was going to leak.

He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing through his mouth against Casey’s skin. Casey scratched gently at his scalp and said no more, and Adam knew it was the only way he could say that he understood, that it was all right. Actually saying the words would have been a taunt, an invitation to snap and snarl at each other again. Words would make a distance between them where right now there was none at all.

Adam felt tears leak out from his eyes. They dripped down onto Casey’s skin, and Casey’s hand flattened against Adam’s head, holding him close when they were as close as they could possibly be.

Adam moved some tiny fraction, shifting his weight from one knee to the other, and the moment snapped like a soap bubble bursting. He was aware all at once that he was buried to the hilt in Casey’s hole, Casey was all hot and slick around him, and his balls were drawn tight, aching with the need for release.

“Oh, fuck,” Adam whispered, reverently, against Casey’s skin.

Casey laughed under his breath and took his hand from Adam’s hair to brace against the wall. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Adam said, and finally, finally moved. He tried to go slow, to be gentle, but after a few strokes Casey made this sound and tightened around him, and Adam reached down and realized Casey was getting hard again.

Adam groaned like a wounded animal and curled his hand loosely around Casey’s cock, giving him something to thrust into as Adam thrust into him. It got faster after that, a little rough, but they were both moving together even if they were never quite on the same beat.

Dancing again. Adam laughed at the thought, and the sound came out wild, too much force behind it, releasing something pent up deeper than just his breath. Casey started laughing too, giggling, really, and it shook his body, making his rhythm even more erratic.

Adam only lasted a few more strokes beyond that, laughing and feeling Casey’s laughter as much as he heard it. Then he was coming, and Casey’s laughter became something close to a howl. His hand closed over Adam’s on his cock, making Adam jerk him off quickly, and almost before Adam had finished Casey was going off again, spurting over their tangled fingers.

They stayed that way, each with one hand down on the bed, Adam curled over Casey’s back, until they’d both more or less caught their breath. Casey burst out in more reflexive giggles when Adam finally moved enough to slip free, and Adam shivered at the separation, his eyes prickling again for just a second.

But Casey tugged Adam down as he moved to stretch out in the bed. “We can clean up later, it’s not like they don’t expect us to be wrecking the sheets in here.”

“I’ll wash them,” Adam muttered, but he stretched out beside Casey, turning to lie on his back so that Casey could curl up or sprawl over him at will. After a few moments of shifting around they were settled into the positions that were already familiar, and Casey’s breathing and heartbeat slowed toward sleep.

Adam stared at the ceiling and wondered if it could actually be this easy. If he and Casey could actually work out all right for each other just because they wanted to, just because Adam was willing to stand up and be awful at dancing so Casey would laugh and kiss him.

That thought brought a wash of guilt as soon as it formed. There wasn’t anything easy about this for Casey; Casey was only with Adam because of the horrific things he’d been through. He’d only come on this road trip because he needed help dealing with the phobia that had its roots in what the hunters had done to him. Of course they’d grown close—any alpha would have gotten attached to Casey if they spent a month with him like this.

But I’m the one who did, Adam thought, defying the feeling. I’m the one who was here. I’m the one he likes. I’m the one who stood up and took his hand.

And there were probably plenty of alphas who wouldn’t like the way Casey stood up for himself and spoke his mind. Adam knew perfectly well that plenty of alphas couldn’t have stood being laughed at while they danced or while they fucked, even if they deserved it.

So, maybe... maybe he wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to Casey. God knew Adam had now met dozens or hundreds of werewolves, omegas and alphas, old and young, who would feel no qualms about taking Casey’s side if Adam ever gave Casey reason to regret this.

Casey wasn’t going to stand for being cooped up in some little lonely house away from the rest of the pack.

Not that his dad had... Adam felt guilty and sick as he often did when he thought of what had happened to his dad, but now the feeling was mixed with frustrated curiosity. Why had his dad put up with living in that house away from everyone else? Why had his dad stayed, when he was so unhappy? Casey’s mother had dared to leave her pack for a world that must have been totally unknown, but Adam’s dad had lived most of his life as a human. Surely if he’d really wanted to he could have figured out how to stay safe among humans. Why had he stayed? Why hadn’t he found some other way out than dying?

For half a second Adam wished there was someone he could ask, and then he remembered that, technically, there was. It was just that he was responsible for Adam’s dad being so miserable he finally killed himself, and Adam had sworn never to speak to him again.

But if Adam wasn’t sure about one part of it, could he be sure of anything? Had he been wrong about his father all this time?

He squeezed his eyes shut tight and held on harder to Casey, trying to keep still and be quiet.

“Mm-mm,” Casey mumbled, leaning harder into him and shaking his head against Adam’s chest. “Stop thinking about miserable stuff or go outside, we just got the bed smelling all nice. Or,” Casey picked his head up, looking more awake than he’d sounded when he first spoke. “I mean. Or tell me, if it’s important, uh. It’s okay to have emotions and everything.”

Adam just looked at him for a moment. “And you talk to me about having no bedside manner.”

Casey rolled his eyes, relaxing a little, his body softening against Adam’s. “My bedside manner is amazing. But that’s my job, it’s not usually happening in my bed when I’m falling asleep. And I don’t treat a lot of alphas.”

“I guess we don’t tend to need much midwifing,” Adam allowed.

“I mean, more than zero, with one thing and another,” Casey said with a shrug. “But, uh, yeah, not my rotation usually. But clever deflections about my sensitivity aside, do you want to talk about whatever’s got you all—” Casey waved a hand at him.

Adam shook his head. “Not really.”

Casey studied him for a few seconds. “Okay, but should you?”

Adam looked away, taking a careful breath and measuring out his words steadily. “I was thinking about my dad. I think I... looking back, I was just a little kid for so much of it. There’s so much I don’t really understand about what happened to him, and how and why.”

Casey nodded against his shoulder, where Adam could feel it and didn’t have to look. Adam could also feel him not pointing out that there might be ways to solve that problem.

Adam shook his head again. “Not gonna figure it out tonight, anyway. Sorry, I’ll try to think about something, uh...” Adam tried to think of what unobjectionable things he usually focused on when falling asleep with Casey. He was usually thinking about Casey, probably, or not thinking so much as feeling...

“Well, I could tell you what I was thinking,” Casey said, with a helpful wriggle of his hips against Adam’s, sending up the scent of sex and a tingle of aftershock pleasure. “I was thinking, now that the moon’s properly on the wax, that means it’s only nine more nights to the full moon, and I’m gonna have one more heat before my ass gives up for the winter.”

Adam opened his mouth as he finally met Casey’s eyes again.

Casey glared. “Don’t tell me how my anatomy works, thanks. You know what I mean.”

Adam nodded, his mouth watering a little at the thought. Another full moon with Casey, and this time...

“Where do you plan on spending the full moon?” Adam asked. “We, uh... there’s a hole in the schedule.” He’d meant to get Casey back to the Niemi pack, hadn’t he? He hadn’t meant to spend the moon with him there, but maybe they could.

“Mm,” Casey said, draping himself over Adam. “Where’s not that important, is it? Not compared to who. And I’m still having trouble with strange alphas, but with you, just you—I don’t think I’d need any wolfsbane at all. No suppressants. I could have a real heat.”

Adam nodded, dazed at the thought and wanting it more than he wanted anything. The ramifications crowded in a second later. “But that’s—if we—that’s—we’re not even bonded yet, we don’t—”

Casey huffed, sounding more fond than annoyed now and snuggling down more firmly. “I know you haven’t statistically analyzed every single questionnaire yet, but I can tell you right now, heat doesn’t mean pregnancy every time, even when that’s what you’re aiming for. As much wolfsbane as I’ve been on lately, it’d be practically a miracle—and anyway, I’m a midwife, so I’m not going to get pregnant by mistake.”

Because it would be a mistake for Casey to get pregnant, now, obviously, and nothing Adam should want. Nothing Adam had any right to want, even if he dared to imagine that he might not be the worst alpha parent any kid ever had. They didn’t even know where they were going to be two weeks from now, let alone next year; this whole thing between them could fall apart by Solstice.

It would be a mistake. Of course it would. There was no reason Adam should feel even the tiniest glimmer of disappointment that Casey referred to the possibility that way.