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[ Their latest job was a success, a discreet heist and infiltration for crucial information that leaned towards Erik's interests as well as their employers'. With the trade and drop-off done, and with the both of them six digits' worth richer, Erik is back in Arthur's pristine apartment, pouring himself and the other glasses of scotch in celebration.
Erik would have more things to do on his own, a minor errand or so, a visit paid to an old acquaintance or two, and he is grimly satisfied by the results of it, and the road that now leads so clearly to his private target. He rubs the back of his neck absently; unsettled for a moment. It's unseasonably warm for this time of the evening, and the strangest little urges had been tickling him on and off lately.
Surely, it couldn't be --
-- No, no, of course not. Definitely not. It came in heavily ordered cycles, and his next one is scheduled sixteen days away, with his next batch of suppressants due only early next week. He downs the scotch in one go, then pours himself another, shaking off the feeling. Perhaps he had been more than a little overworked, perhaps he's truly imagining things as a result, because the alternative, especially in Arthur's presence, is unthinkable.
The man is a partner is more ways than one, someone Erik knew he could trust with his life, but Erik is also keenly aware of the fact that he's also an alpha, and clearly one of the stronger ones. It's a dangerous partnership to make when Erik had never so much as breathed his condition to anyone else, but it had worked for them when he would conveniently displace himself whenever it hit; because, quite frankly, they did not need something else to tip the balance of their already tenuous relationship, chemistry-fueled and full of crap that didn't make the slightest sense.
Not to Arthur, and most definitely not to Erik. ]
Erik would have more things to do on his own, a minor errand or so, a visit paid to an old acquaintance or two, and he is grimly satisfied by the results of it, and the road that now leads so clearly to his private target. He rubs the back of his neck absently; unsettled for a moment. It's unseasonably warm for this time of the evening, and the strangest little urges had been tickling him on and off lately.
Surely, it couldn't be --
-- No, no, of course not. Definitely not. It came in heavily ordered cycles, and his next one is scheduled sixteen days away, with his next batch of suppressants due only early next week. He downs the scotch in one go, then pours himself another, shaking off the feeling. Perhaps he had been more than a little overworked, perhaps he's truly imagining things as a result, because the alternative, especially in Arthur's presence, is unthinkable.
The man is a partner is more ways than one, someone Erik knew he could trust with his life, but Erik is also keenly aware of the fact that he's also an alpha, and clearly one of the stronger ones. It's a dangerous partnership to make when Erik had never so much as breathed his condition to anyone else, but it had worked for them when he would conveniently displace himself whenever it hit; because, quite frankly, they did not need something else to tip the balance of their already tenuous relationship, chemistry-fueled and full of crap that didn't make the slightest sense.
Not to Arthur, and most definitely not to Erik. ]