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The first instinctive impulse after discovering something missing http://www.passat-club.ru/news.php?id=1589 is to pretend nothing happened and slowly continue on your way, hoping for luck.

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Asher's fingers slipped from his shoulder, leaving behind a ghost of warmth that lingered far longer than it should have. Kaito stood very still, feeling the subtle tremor in the air where the touch had been. Asher's words sat between them like fragile glass—honest, raw, edged with doubt. He could see it in Asher's face. Not afraid. Not angry. But something much worse. Guilt. Kaito inhaled, stepping just a fraction closer. Close enough that Asher would feel him there, solid and unhooked. Slowly, reluctantly, those storm-gray eyes lifted. The gold was gone now, but the worry hadn't faded with it. Kaito held his gaze without wavering. “You didn't hurt me,” he said softly, firmly. “And you didn’t attack me.” Asher opened his mouth to argue, but Kaito cut him off before he could start spiraling again. "You reacted. Instinctively. To magic that overwhelmed both of us." He reached out, slowly, deliberately and rested a hand against Asher's forearm. "And you stopped yourself. That matters more than anything." “I've seen people lose control of magic,” Kaito continued, voice quieter now. “Saw mages hurt the ones they cared about. Saw them break themselves trying to stop.” His eyes softened. "But you... the moment you realized what was happening, you fought your wolf back. You protected me from yourself. Do you have any idea how rare that is?" Asher swallowed, the sound audible in the quiet room. Kaito's hand didn't leave his arm. "And for the record... I'm not afraid of you. Not even a little." His voice gentled with a warmth he didn't hide anymore. “If I was, I wouldn't still be standing this close.” He didn't move away right away. Not yet. Something more deeper than themselves was pulling them closer "I'll go to bed. But—not because I'm afraid, or because of what happened. Just because... I'm exhausted. And because you need sleep more than you think." “And Asher?” He waited until those storm-gray eyes found him again. “You don't have to thank me for staying.”His voice trembled on something soft. “ I want to stay. ” He lingered one last heartbeat, long enough for Asher to feel the truth of it. Then he turned toward the hallway—but not before offering one final, gentle smile over his shoulder. "Goodnight." His body was tired, his magic drained, and the house was quiet in the way only protected spaces could be, no whispers, no stray energy, nothing for his senses to cling to. And yet Kaito lay awake, staring at the ceiling, the faint glow of the ward-stones casting dim patterns across the room. He could still feel Asher's hand on him. His shoulder where that warm, careful squeeze had lingered. His wrist where fingers had been brushed just long enough to leave a phantom imprint. And the space right in front of him, where Asher had stood close enough that Kaito could feel the heat of his breath. He exhaled slowly, trying to steady the restless hum coiling low in his chest. It wasn't afraid. It wasn't even adrenaline. It was something… different. Something that didn't belong to magic, or curses, or whatever strange tether had sparked between them earlier. This feeling was older. Quieter. More personal. Kaito rolled onto his side, pulling the blanket up to his chin, although he wasn't cold. His heartbeat felt too loud in the stillness. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the moment Asher had pinned him to the table— Not the danger of it. Not the growl. Not the wolf. But Asher's face inches from his. The raw panic when he realized what he was doing. The desperate restraint as he forced himself back under control. Kaito touched his own chest lightly.Something had cracked open in that moment—not because Asher had lost control, but because he'd fought so hard to keep Kaito safe. No one had ever looked at him with that kind of fear—not fear of him, but fear for him. Kaito swallowed, the memory of Asher's storm-gray eyes stirring a nervous warmth in his stomach. It shouldn't matter. Asher was a werewolf. A pack alpha. A man carrying more weight than he ever admitted. And Kaito…Kaito was the mage who'd dragged him into a prophecy he wasn't sure he believed in yet. They shouldn't fit into each other's space this easily. They shouldn't be thinking about each other like this. Kaito pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead, trying to slow his thoughts, but the embarrassment only deepened the heat blooming across his cheeks. He'd felt Asher's breath on his neck earlier. He'd seen the way those gray eyes had flicked to his mouth. And—gods help him—he'd felt his own heart react. Not with fear. Not with caution. But with something Kaito hadn't let himself feel in a long time. Something he wasn't sure he wanted to feel—but couldn't stop now that it had started. He curled onto his back again, letting out a quiet sigh as he stared into the dim ceiling. “…this is a terrible idea,” he whispered into the empty room. But even to his own ears, it didn't sound like he meant it. Sleep tugged at the edges of his mind, warm and full of Asher's scent—the faint trace of pine and storm-soaked air that clung to him even now, drifting through the house like a memory. Kaito closed his eyes. And for the first time in a very, very long time, he felt something soft settle in his chest. Not magic. Just... longing. A quiet, uncertain wanting. And he wondered, just for a moment, if Asher was lying awake too—feeling the same impossible pull. ****(Morning)**** Kaito had only intended to get water—his throat was dry, sleep never fully settled over him last night. A restless tangle of thoughts had dragged him out of bed. Thoughts of Asher. Of the wolf that had growled against his skin. Of the way Asher's eyes had darkened, then softened, then… wandered. He'd told himself he was imagining things. But then he stepped into the hallway, and Asher's scent hit him—bright and warm and sharp with effort. Kaito slowed down. Then stopped. The living room opened into view. And there was Asher. Kaito froze in place like prey sensing a hunter—not out of fear, but because his mind simply stopped functioning. Asher was on the floor, one arm braced, the other tucked behind him as he lowered himself into another one-arm push-up. His back rippled with every movement—broad shoulders flexing, muscles sliding under skin slick with a thin sheen of sweat. His breath came deep, heavy, the controlled exhale of someone trying to outrun their own thoughts. Kaito had seen him shirtless before, briefly. But not like this. Not with the morning light sliding over him, catching in the sweat along the carved line of his spine. Not with the stretch pants clinging like a second skin, outlining the sharp curve of his hips, the power in his thighs, the strength coiled in every part of him. Not with raw frustration in every movement—frustration that felt like it had teeth. Kaito's fingers curled around the edge of the doorway. He knew he should look away. He didn't. His gaze drifted—slow, unwillingly reverent—from Asher's shoulders down the long, taut line of his torso. The way his abs tightened and released with each movement. The small, almost vicious sound Asher made when he pushed harder, as if fighting something inside him. Gods. Kaito felt heat creep up his neck—slowly, then all at once—sinking into his cheeks, his ears, his chest. His pulse jumped, too fast for how still he stood. He swallowed, but the air tasted different now. Thicker. Charged. And Asher didn't notice him. At all. He was too lost in his own head, pushing himself until his body shook with effort. Until sweat rolled down the lines of his stomach. Until he slammed through the last of his reps and rose in a powerful, fluid motion that Kaito felt more than saw. When Asher crouched, breathing heavily, Kaito's breath caught too—tight, unsteady. He'd known Asher was attractive. But this… seeing him like this… seeing him so raw, so physical, so completely unaware of the effect he had— It was dangerous. Kaito's heart thudded against his ribs in a rhythm that felt too loud. Too eager. And when Asher dragged a hand through his damp hair—brassing it up in a way that made him look reckless and touchable—Kaito's fingers tightened on the doorframe so hard his knuckles whitened. He couldn't stop staring. He didn't know how to stop. A soft, barely audible breath escaped him—more like a small, involuntary gasp—as Asher muttered under his breath: Kaito felt something twist in his chest. Something warm. Something dangerous. Something that had been growing all night and refused to be quiet. And the moment Asher's head tilted up, as if sensing something—Kaito's scent, the shift in the air—Kaito straightened instinctively, heart slamming once against his ribs. Unable to hide the flush burning across his skin. Unable to pretend he hadn't just been standing there, breathless, watching a man who was becoming far too difficult not to want. Kaito's breath hitched and his pulse skipped. He tried to compose himself, smoothing his hands down the loose fabric of his sleep shirt as he stepped into the room. The air felt thicker here—warmer from Asher's workout, saturated with his scent. He cleared his throat softly. “Good morning,” he said—quiet, careful, but not hesitant. The living room suddenly felt too small. The distance between them felt thinner than it had any right to be. Kaito swallowed and tried to ignore the heat creeping back into his cheeks. “I... didn't mean to interrupt.” His voice was calm, mostly. “I just woke up and thought I'd get some water.” His gaze dipped involuntarily, just for a moment, following the slow bead of sweat rolling down Asher's chest until it disappeared below the waistband of those clingy, unfairly tight pants. Gods. Kaito forced his eyes upward before Asher noticed.

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