Derek wasn’t paying much attention to the low chatter of people around him as he unloaded his groceries from his cart to the little conveyer belt at the check-out.
His thoughts were far away, meandering through what he needed to get done that evening and whether or not Scott would need him for pack business this weekend.
When the air around him started to turn acrid with the scent of anxiety, Derek looked up at the customer in line in front of him.
He was a boy, probably twenty-two or so, not more than an inch or two shorter than Derek, but quite a bit thinner.
His brown hair was standing up in haphazard spikes, like he’d been running his hands through it a lot.
Though he didn’t have a collar and his sleeves were long enough to cover a cuff, it was obvious that he was a submissive.
His whole posture was deferential to the young dom who was working the check-out. The boy seemed unwilling to quite meet her gaze, and he kept ducking his head when she spoke.
Even without a werewolf’s sense of smell, anyone would be able to tell that the boy was nervous nearly to the point of panic.
His eyes darted around and his shoulders looked so tense they nearly made Derek wince in sympathy.
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