Mating season. It means all the werewolves on base started to look for mates to breed. This wouldn’t be an issue, if it wasn’t that most military werewolves were men. Though most made it work, Price however had no interest in breeding. He was older, most of his breeding instincts had long ago went dormant. The glands on his throat right where a bite would be were very rarely active. Sure, he still emitted pheromones, but they were weak. The medics said it was normal, since Price was almost 40 without a mate. But Price hated it, really. He saw Soap and Ghost, already with their second litter of pups. And Gaz just mated Alex. Laswell had her wife, and it seemed everyone had someone. Expect for Price. However, Price did notice his Commanding officer was also single. Older than him by a few years and incredibly good looking. The man was what Price wanted in a mate. It helped that there were closer as a few of the only single werwolves on base, going to bars on occasion together or drinking in his CO’s office. Price eventually worked up the courage to ask for a spar, hoping the other man would catch on.

Price whined high in his throat as he was pinned yet again, panting heavily and aching terribly. They’ve been sparing for an hour and this was the fifth time Price was pinned. His pupils were blown, black swallowing his usual blue until there was just a sliver of a ring left. He’d taken off his jacket earlier since it was hot, and that left him in a thin undershirt. He went limp, this time he hoped the other man would just take what he wanted. They were both emitting heavy pheromones, Price’s ears were pinned and his tail wagging slightly. He huffed softly, trying to bring air into his lungs again. He whined again, looking up at his CO with wide eyes, incredibly impressed and aroused by his strength. Price tilted his throat up slightly, the glands throbbing against his skin. He wanted this, so badly. The aggression was still there, he could feel it. But he hoped that his CO would just take for once.