Werewolf drabbles

[tsaiko]

Must be the phase of the moon or something. Everyone's thinking about werewolves. Three drabbles I wrote in skylark97's comments. Totally out of order time wise.



It was hard to believe that at one point, Gene had been terrified of the idea of Jesse as a werewolf. Being a werewolf was scary enough. Being one that completely lost his humanity during the full moon? That was beyond terrifying. Jesse hated him enough when he was human. Gene had decided that he never, ever wanted to know what Jesse's wolf instincts thought of him. He liked all his body parts where they were, thank you.

That was before he'd locked himself in the dungeon of the old McGregor Castle with Jesse on the night of the full moon. There had been no other way. They'd been too close to the village to just let Jesse run free and no other place would hold a berserk werewolf. Gene had figured that he was as good as dead.

Until he realized that Jesse transformed didn't see him as a threat. Instead, he saw Gene as a mate.

"Hey Puppy," Gene said as he was pushed against the wall that bordered the Thomson's farm. The werewolf made a soft sound of greeting before carefully licking his neck. Geren supposed he should call him Jesse, but he couldn't reconcile the guy that loathed him and the werewolf that wanted him. So he called the werewolf Puppy. "Feeling affectionate tonight?"

In response, Puppy turned him around until his hands were braced against the wall. There was warm breath on the back of his neck, and clawed fingers spanning his hipbones. Heat curled low in his stomach. "Yeah, feeling real affectionate tonight." Puppy growled low in his throat, pulling at Gene's pants until Gene had to either undo the button or have them ripped off.

It was going to be a rough night. He'd probably wind up with more than his fair share of bruises and scratches by the end. It was just as well no suspected the real reason he looked like he did after every full moon. Gene would never live it down if people found out that he bottomed for the werewolf that normally hated his guts.

***

Jesse knew there was trouble when he walked into the room and the Alphas from the four largest packs in the area were there. He brought his head up, put his shoulders back, and walked quickly to the table. Four sets of eyes - two yellow, one golden, and one brown - followed his progress. Pride was the only thing that kept him from diverting his gaze.

"The werewolf has found a way to escape his cage," Martin said. They always referred to his other self as "the werewolf." Which was just as well. He wasn't in control of what he did in that form, couldn't even remember what happened. As a werewolf, he might as well be another person. It helped to disassociate himself from what occurred when he took that form. Less guilt and self-recrimination that way.

"It hasn't hurt anyone, has it?"

"No," Martin replied. "But an issue has arisen."

Something cold settled in his stomach. The packs had every right to kill him for what he was. Jesse's father had fought long and hard against it, and once his father had passed, he'd done everything in his power to keep his father's wish. Even during the days when he thought it would be simpler just to let them kill him. "I can make the cage stronger. There are reinforcements that can..."

"That won't be necessary." This from Noah, the Alpha of the largest pack. "And we're not going to kill you. That won't be necessary either. It seems that your werewolf self has found his mate."

"Mate?" If he hadn't already been sitting, Jesse's legs would have given out from under him. A mate? It didn't happen often to those who were completely feral in werewolf form, but when it did... it offered a rare chance of legitimacy. A feral werewolf would listen to its mate no matter what, and that alone would cause the packs to accept one living in their midst. Assuming that the packs could trust the person the werewolf had mated with. "Who is it?"

All four Alphas looked extremely uncomfortable. Emma was the one who finally broke the silence.

"The werewolf's mate is Gene Preston."

Oh no. No. He refused to believe it. "Him? I... the werewolf is mated to HIM?!?"

It was like his worse nightmare had come true.

***

Jesse had yelled, but that wasn't anything new. Jesse was always yelling at him. Or ignoring him. Or occasionally punching him. The yelling was the most comforting, familiar thing about this whole debacle. It was the silence that Gene was worried about. Silence meant that Jesse was changing or had changed into his werewolf form. A form that Jesse couldn't control. A form that would very likely eat him form dinner.

Gene tested the crowbar he'd wedged into the cell lock, reassured by it solid weight. It wouldn't hold against a crazy werewolf, but it might at least slow him down. Really, that's the best he could hope for at this point. At least he'd die a hero, having made sure that the feral werewolf hadn't attacked the village.

A low growl came out of the darkness and Gene quickly moved to the farthest corner of the cell, which was not nearly deep enough for his liking. It was the only one was at least semi-sound though. Moonlight fell through a barred window. Gene watched as it slowly revealed a thin, sharp muzzle. The werewolf was growling, but it wasn't baring its teeth. That was a good sign right?

Not much of one Gene decided as the rest of the werewolf revealed itself. It was big even for a werewolf. It walked upright on muscled legs, though it dropped to all fours in order to sniff the ground. Silver light edged its dark fur. Inch long claws scraped the stone floor, before it looked up at him.

It saw him. The werewolf was at the bars in one bound, muzzle pressed as far as it could go. Gene flinched. The werewolf's growl deepened. One arm reached forward and snagged his ankle. He kicked, felt his foot connect and heard the pained yelp, and then it was captured as well. Gene was yanked towards the bars, sharp claws digging slightly into his skin. he curled into a ball.

Going to die. Going to die. Going to die.

Therefor Gene was totally unprepared for when the werewolf snuffled him a bit before it licked him.

"Wha..." The werewolf wasn't trying to kill him, unless licking to death was bizarre new way to die. Instead it was sniffing him and wagging its tail.

"Oh for the love of... you're nothing but a big puppy."

The werewolf seemed to chuff in agreement.

Comments

[thelobstermob.livejournal.com]

A working plot is always a good idea. I would very much like to read the results.