The Pack's Rebels
Applied cologne and a nice shirt… This was significant, his third-chance mate, and he’d come into it bedraggled, shaggy and probably stinking of gymsocks.
Harry kissed him, though kiss was too mild a term for it. Melted him, turned his bones to water so that he sagged into them, his hands closing on their shoulders, and all thought evaporating. Harry explored his mouth leisurely, their tongue holding the shadow of copper layered with the flavor of Harry. Their skin smelled of incense and lavender from the cologne that they wore, and there was a row of earrings along the curve of their ears that he discovered when he buried his hands into their hair, cupping their skull.
“I like my men filthy