In his lover's arms, Blue was practically weightless. Eivind had come to know all of Blue's awkward angles (though Eivind would have said "elegant"), knew how to maneuver those long legs and the thin branch-like arms jutting from his torso. Blue was quick to respond, knowing this game. He wrapped his legs around his husband's waist as he carried him to the back of the camper, pouring him carefully out onto the bed as one delicately pours a stream of hot tea into a fragile china cup. Always so careful, rough hands caressing his body as if he were a rare gem with the potential of shattering at the slightest mishandling. As Eivind peeled Blue's shirt from his body, he wondered how he could possibly deserve a man so loyal and loving.<i>Can you ever forgive me?</i><br/><br/>"Oh, I don't think I need to ask," Blue whispered, fiddling with Eivind's jeans until they seemed to come undone of their on accord. He pushed denim and fabric down his husband's hips. "For an old man, you get riled up quickly, don't you?" Blue teased, a hand wrapping around Eivind's thickening shaft, stroking. The wolf was always so easy to arouse. Blue loved that about him. A sex drive as demanding as his own. A need just as desperate. Blue craved his older lover like a drug and Eivind was always there, ready to give him anything and everything he could possibly need.<i>I don't want to hurt you. <br/>
</i><br/>"I'll miss you while you're gone," he breathed, releasing his wolf's arousal just long enough so he could shimmy out of his own clothes. He kicked his pants and underwear away, letting them topple from the bed. Lean thighs squeezed at Eivind's hips, pulling him down so Blue could feel the other male's familiar weight on top of him. Greedy hands assisted in ridding Eivind of his shirt so they could caress the muscle and thick hair beneath. "Come on, Vin," he growled, pulling Eivind down on top of him, kissing him hungrily. He could feel the dried sweat on Eivind's body, the evidence of a long day's work. But it wasn't enough to deter him.<br/><br/>"Fuck me so hard there won't be a wolf in a hundred miles who doesn't know I'm yours." Eivind's scent would be violently fresh on him. It would smack Lofgren like a brick to the face. Despite not knowing exactly how Lofgren would react to that, Blue felt a righteous satisfaction. He hoped it drove him absolutely crazy. Made him sloppy. A sloppy wolf would be easier to kill. Maybe. Hopefully.