Monroe hadn’t been exaggerating when he told Nick that normal relationships baffled him.
He was used to a more simple you sniff me, I sniff you, we kill something and roll around type of courtship but as often as he and Nick had ended up killing something together they tended not to be the sort of kills were you danced around wearing their blood and Nick looked a little freaked out when Monroe tried to sniff him. Monroe also wasn’t into the whole blood thing any longer. He had instincts but they were instincts he worked hard on suppressing. Besides, there were other courting methods that didn’t involve death.
Food was one of them. To prove to be a good mate you had to provide your intended with food. No Blutbad worth their salt wanted to be mated to a bad hunter. Simply because Monroe did his hunting in the fruits and vegetables section of the local organic market didn’t mean he wasn’t providing. He made lavish dinners for Nick, slaved away to get him at least three courses on the table and Nick started commenting how much he liked coming over for dinner, how he was even starting to look forward to vegetarian food.
Then Monroe started making him packed lunches and it was back to weird looks again.
Scent marking was another courting ritual. Monroe had a strong feeling Nick wasn’t going to be too happy if he went round to Nick’s house - where he was not allowed - and started pissing on his fence to ward off any other Blutbad so he had to resort to other tactics. An old shirt when Nick was caught out in the rain, one that smelled of Monroe and Monroe only and Nick was walking around telling every creature he came across that he belonged to Monroe. At least that was what Monroe had been hoping before he found out Nick had thrown the shirt in the back of a draw when he’d got home and forgotten all about it. At least Nick’s underwear smelled of Monroe apparently but who got close enough to smell those?
Apart from Monroe. He got close enough and admittedly that scent was usually mingled with Nick and sex and at that point he was just praying no one else got as close to Nick as he did or else he might not be responsible for what he did.
He himself wore a red shirt and kept the top button undone, flashing his neck at Nick and sometimes jogged ahead of him a little just to give Nick a chance to chase him but Nick remained completely oblivious to mating calls which was good because Monroe wasn’t sure how to explain the fact that he wasn’t keen on submitting but he’d been desperate to try anything at that point.
Finally there was biting. If all else failed and everything was failing then he could make his intentions known by pinning Nick down and biting him. Monroe had been debating this because there was always the possibility Nick would simply take out his gun and shoot him but then Nick turned up at his house, wearing the old shirt Monroe had given him, bending over his kitchen counters to talk about clocks and something which was killing little old ladies and his boxers were red.
Monroe could see them every time Nick bent over which he really had to tell Nick at some point was a submissive sign but he didn’t get that far because he’d fastened his teeth around Nick’s throat and was growling. He wanted to bite, to leave a mark that everyone could see, that Nick could see so he’d know that he was Monroe’s now. That Monroe had claimed him. He could claim him properly right there on the counter top and then Nick really would be his. He could rip those red boxers apart.
Monroe shook his head, pulling back from Nick as fast as he could and plastering himself to the wall on the other side of the kitchen.
“Oh, man! I’m so sorry. Don’t shoot me. I didn’t even…you’re wearing red!” He held up his hands in front of him, not sure Nick would understand that sometimes Monroe didn’t want to ignore his instincts and Nick had pushed him as far as any reasonable Blutbad could stand. Nick touched the side of his neck gingerly and Monroe winced because he’d really bitten deep. There were little pinpricks of blood on Nick’s pale skin and that was going to leave a bruise.
“I’m really sorry.” He tried again. This was the end of their friendship. There was no way Nick could be around him now he knew that Monroe was a horny Blutbad looking for any excuse to jump him and Monroe didn’t think he could ever go back to being helpful and celibate with Nick because he’d had Nick under him. For one brilliant moment he’d felt Nick trembling under him, he’d held the power of life and death over him and all Monroe had wanted to do was fuck him. He didn’t think they’d be able to share coffee in the park again after that.
Nick was not drawing his gun however. He was grinning. That worried Monroe even more.
“Nick?” He asked cautiously. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Nick said and he still hadn’t moved, he was still touching the mark. “I decided I needed to read up on Blutbad the other night. Aunt Marie’s notes had some pretty interesting things to say about your mating rituals.” He was still grinning.
“Interesting? How so?” Monroe asked, licking his lips and edging towards the door because maybe Nick had decided that guns weren’t good enough and was heading back to that old Grimm favourite - cutting of the Blutbad’s head. He was pretty certain if he got out the door then he could out run Nick and once Nick had calmed down they could have a nice, easy conversation where they mutually agreed to ignore each other and never meet again.
“It didn’t take me long to realise you were trying to court me.” Nick said, shifting just a little, a roll of his hips and that got Monroe’s attention. “I am a detective after all.”
“Uh huh.” And now Monroe was reduced to just syllables.
“You could have just asked me out.” Nick said, frowning slightly and straightening up. “I’m not going to shoot you, will you just stop? Damn it, Monroe. I’m trying to get you to pounce or whatever it is you want to do. I went out and bought these boxers specially.” He hooked his fingers into the loops of his jeans, tugging them down a little to show a flash of his hip and the red of his boxers. Monroe felt his knees going weak. “I was going to ask you to go running with me if this didn’t work.”
Monroe’s brain had stopped processing the situation because all he could think about was Nick, in red, running. That was a favourite fantasy. A nice fantasy. He always caught him and Nick always arched his back and threw back his head so Monroe could bite him. Just the way he’d done when he’d bent over the counter top actually.
“Oh.” He said and then again. “Oh! So you wanted me to bite you?”
Nick nodded, finger the mark on his throat. “Yeah, I’ve been getting kind of tired of waiting for you to make your move. I’ve even had your shirt stuffed in my underwear draw. I thought you might get a bit excited or something.” He shrugged his shoulders, blushing in a way Monroe found adorable but that wasn’t the most important part. The important part was that his courting had worked.
“Right, so…” He said, pushing himself away from the wall and he tried to remember that just because Nick said he was interested didn’t mean they had to jump straight into bed. There were things to talk about. He was a Blutbad and Nick was a Grimm. There were problems they’ve have to overcome and then they were also both men and Nick was a cop who’d once accused him of trying to eat a little girl. This wasn’t going to be an easy ride for either of them. They really should sit down and talk.
Nick pulled his jeans a little lower. “Race you to the bedroom?” He said, eyes twinkling.
“Oh you are on!” Monroe agreed.
They only made it as far as the stairs.