Chapter XXIX

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 ~Tuesday 26th July 2016~

Shepherd hummed to himself as he cooked, flittering between pans and plates gracefully, stopping occasionally to run a hand through Mischief's fur as the cub slumbered on the counter. Nothing ever burned, nothing soiled. He was a good cook, he had been for years. Back when he still lived with his parents, before he had become the disgrace of the family, he had cooked with his mother a lot. She still believed in housewives, that young girls should learn to cook for their husbands. Well, wouldn't she be proud now? Her perfect child standing barefoot in the kitchen, the heat from the stove flushing his cheeks, cooking breakfast for his own family. On his own terms.

The smell of pancakes reminded him of Porter. They were his favourite. Shepherd hadn't made them since the man had passed, maybe a silent ode to his own grief. Yet, they were Snowden's favourite too, and he didn't want to deprive his son of something he enjoyed simply because it came with bad memories. The only way to solve that was to make new memories, happy ones. A family sitting around the dining table, two sons happy with their partners, two parents blessed with their lives. That was Shepherd's aim that morning, to make memories.

"Smells good, pup," Reece carried the scent of shampoo and citrus body wash with him as he entered the kitchen, "I like when you cook," Reece snaked his arms around Shepherd's waist from behind, pressing his lips to the back of the warlock's neck. His hair was still damp, tiny droplets of water falling onto Shepherd's shoulders from the loose curls, only broadening the man's smile.

"Mmm, I'm getting practice in. I'll be the perfect little housewife one day," Shepherd hadn't meant anything by the comment. It just slipped out. He hadn't thought of what he was insinuating by saying that word. Wife. Marriage. That hadn't broached the conversation between mates just yet. Shepherd still wore his engagement ring to Porter on the chain around his neck, and Reece never mentioned it. It was a difficult topic.

"I don't want a housewife," for a moment, Shepherd felt a twinge of self-consciousness despite knowing that Reece was still drowsy and likely unaware of what he was saying, "we're equals. That won't change when we're married," when Reece rested his chin on Shepherd's shoulder, cuddling him to his chest, the man turned his head. Their lips met, soft and slow at first. Shepherd might have been up for hours before Reece but that didn't mean he was well-rested. Early morning kisses were the best, still groggy and uncoordinated, mingled in with warm breaths and content sighs. They were the moments that Shepherd cherished the most.

"Do you want to get married?" Shepherd's voice was small, his attention returning to the pancakes to distract from the nerves knotting his stomach, "someday, I mean? Do wolves do that?" There was the claiming ceremony, everyone seemed to be reminding Shepherd of that over and over. Yet Reece hadn't mentioned it. They had accepted one another as mates, they had slept together, but there was no sign of that bite. There was enough in the pack at the moment for Shepherd to distract himself with, enough to push back those thoughts and desires, however, they never went away entirely. No matter the dread he felt when he thought of the claiming ceremony, the craving to be connected to Reece in that base, fundamental way was so much stronger.

"Some do. Some don't," Reece shrugged, nuzzling his nose against Shepherd's skin, "I'd like you to be my husband. Someday. Whenever you're ready," instead of letting go to allow Shepherd to move around the stove easily, Reece hung onto the warlock. He moved with him, their steps in sync as Shepherd plated another three pancakes and set about making even more. There were so many in the house that morning, he wanted there to be enough. It was nice to cook for a big family again.

"What makes you think I'm not ready now?" Shepherd avoided Reece's eye, keeping his gaze locked on the stove in front of him. He could feel the man staring at him; knew that he was frowning too. The conversation was shifting into unfamiliar territory, and Shepherd was growing more nervous by the second.

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