Oh, gods. Al thought he was ready for this, but watching Edmund shed his clothes and handle the toys so -- efficiently -- he wasn't doing a good job at keeping his desire in check, not even in this form. Edmund's questions seemed far away and confusing, no matter how he tried to bring his focus in for a coherent answer.
"I -- I don't know. Succubi are rare. They're banned from Aslan's kingdom. There are some researchers who might know more, but they'd want to know why--" and this had to be kept secret.
Al realized that he was throwing out waves of confusing pheromones, want and need and fear and incredible sadness. He hated seeing this happen to Edmund, and he hated not being able to help. There was no hiding in his fur, and changing back wasn't an option. He'd never control himself. He's not sure as it is.
"I should -- I -- I'll guard the door. I'm sorry." It was pretty much pure cowardice and he knew it. But he also knew he wouldn't be able to hold out even one mating with Edmund. The only way this could get worse was if they ended up bonded. There would be no coming back from that. So Al fled, curling his bulk against the door of the tent and sucking in breath after breath of slightly fresher air. Anything that didn't smell like Edmund, or smelled less like him. By the time Edmund was finished, maybe the tent would reek less of the Al's heartbreak.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-08-24 06:59 pm (UTC)"I -- I don't know. Succubi are rare. They're banned from Aslan's kingdom. There are some researchers who might know more, but they'd want to know why--" and this had to be kept secret.
Al realized that he was throwing out waves of confusing pheromones, want and need and fear and incredible sadness. He hated seeing this happen to Edmund, and he hated not being able to help. There was no hiding in his fur, and changing back wasn't an option. He'd never control himself. He's not sure as it is.
"I should -- I -- I'll guard the door. I'm sorry." It was pretty much pure cowardice and he knew it. But he also knew he wouldn't be able to hold out even one mating with Edmund. The only way this could get worse was if they ended up bonded. There would be no coming back from that. So Al fled, curling his bulk against the door of the tent and sucking in breath after breath of slightly fresher air. Anything that didn't smell like Edmund, or smelled less like him. By the time Edmund was finished, maybe the tent would reek less of the Al's heartbreak.