Atticus couldn’t fall asleep quite as easily as Blake. The other young man had been exhausted, whereas Atticus was now wide awake. Because he was cuddling Blake. He was still flabbergasted at his own courage; from asking to come over, to entering his room, to offering to cuddle him for warmth.

Atticus felt like he’d used a year’s worth of bravery in one day.

This experience had been informative, however. As a werewolf, he could easily hear Blake’s heartbeat - he could hear how it sped up when he neared the other boy, and how it gradually slowed to a comfortable pace, eventually falling in time with his own once sleep took him over.

It was relaxing.

Being so close to his mate made his heart swell - being close to Blake made his heart swell. In the week they’d known each other, Atticus had learnt that Blake was so much more than just a hot guy. He was friendly, kind, caring, and sweet. Atticus had already been taken care of, emotionally, by him a few times.

He felt very privileged to be his mate. He had no idea that Blake felt the exact same way.

Blake thought that he was the most fortunate person alive, to be able to bask in Atticus’s warmth. He didn’t just mean literally, although that was certainly an enjoyable perk. He still had no idea what was going on between them, physically, but he liked it all the same.

Blake had already accepted that Atticus was no longer a crush of his - Blake knew he liked the other boy. He’d been trying to ignore the feeling, telling himself it was silly to catch feelings this quickly, but eventually he’d given in to his emotions, and now felt a lot better for it.

He felt a lot better, however, when he awoke with Atticus’s arms still around him. Smiling broadly, Blake glanced down at the mop of fire lying curled against his chest. His eyes. He’d never asked about Atticus’s eyes.

Suddenly, Blake’s bedroom door opened to the sight of his mother returning from work. “Hi sweetie, how are you feel- oh!” Whilst Blake scrambled for words to explain why he was snuggled up with a boy, Atticus woke up.

“Oh! Sorry, I must’ve fallen asleep too,” he said with a small yawn as he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Blake looked frantically between Atticus and his mother, still trying to come up with some words. When it seems like Atticus wasn’t going to realise she was in the room any time soon, his mother cleared her throat.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! I should go,” Atticus said, scrambling out from under the covers. Before he could dash out the door, however, Blake’s mother grabbed him by the wrist. Blake’s immediate first thought was shit that’s the sprained one, but Atticus had no reaction to what must be a considerable amount of pain.

“Hi sweetie, you must be one of Blake’s friends - why don’t you stay for dinner?” Atticus’s fear that he’d done something very wrong dissolved as he looked into the woman’s kind eyes. Smiling shyly, he nodded, accepting the offer.

Blake finally found his voice. “Is your wrist ok? That’s the sprained one, isn’t it?” His mother blanched, letting go off Atticus and apologising profusely, but the red-head just shook his head. “No no it’s fine - turns out it wasn’t a sprain, and now there’s just a few bruises left,” he explained, hoping no one would catch him on his lie.

Surprised, Blake frowned. “Really? It looked really bad yesterday though, and the nurse said it was a bad sprain.” Atticus cringed internally, but whipped up a fake smile nevertheless. “No uh, he was wrong.”

Reluctantly, Blake believed him, and his mother took Atticus to the kitchen whilst Blake got dressed out of his pyjamas. Sitting in the kitchen, Atticus got to know Blake’s mother - she was a cheerful and optimistic woman who was very family-oriented.

“So, Atticus - such a lovely name, by the way!” She exclaimed, and he smiled widely. “Thank you! I think Gemma is a lovely name too - very elegant.” She smiled, patting his head fondly. “Oh you are just a treasure, aren’t you!”

Blake finally appeared, and felt annoyed that he was jealous his own mother was spending more time with Atticus than he was. “Oh Blake! Dinner’s ready, you and Atticus can sit next to each other, I’ll go opposite.” Smiling at his mum, Blake gave her a kiss on the cheek before sitting next to his friend.

“I don’t know what you normally eat, Atticus sweetie, but I hope you’ll enjoy this lasagna I made - it’s sort of my speciality,” Gemma said with a laugh. Grinning widely, Atticus explained that he wasn’t a picky eater, and he was sure the lasagna would be lovely.

“So whereabouts do you live?” She asked, after they’d all settled in to the meal. “Oh! I live in the sort of um, closed off part of town?” Both Blake and his mother regarded him with surprise. “Really? I’ve never met anyone from that side of town, I heard everyone there kept to themselves.”

Atticus shrugged, taking a sip of water. “We have quite a strong sense of community, but we all like, go to school with everyone like normal.” Gemma nodded, and a thought occurred to Blake.

“Oh - so the bus you get, everyone on it comes from that side of town? Including Riya and- Daniel?” As he said the last word, Blake’s expression darkened considerably. Confused, his mother glanced between them. “Who’re they?”

“Riya is Atticus’s best friend, I sit next to her in a bunch of classes. She’s really smart and a lot of fun to be around,” Blake explained. “Daniel is a twat.” Gemma looked disapprovingly at her son, but said nothing.

“Yeah, they both live near me,” Atticus explained, taking a very large mouthful of food so he couldn’t answer any questions for a bit. Gemma and Blake shared a look, feeling guilty for making him uncomfortable.

At the end of dinner, Blake thanked him for coming, and Atticus thanked Blake and Gemma for having him, and her for the dinner. As soon as Atticus was out the door, Gemma turned to her son. “Let’s have a chat.”