Tree branches, bushes and thorns whipped and cut into Aldon's legs and torso with his mad dash through the woods. Beyond the canopy of oily, dark leaves the moon shone high like a singular beacon in the night sky. Not a single star could be seen; all there was was the moon, regal on its throne.
He didn't know where he was going, or why he needed to be there. He had lost track of his progress through these woods, following that crazed instinct which led him through dense undergrowth and through moonlit clearings. Skidding to a halt amid a shower of loam and dried leaves, Aldon lifted his head--eyes fixated on the moon, opened his mouth like a red chasm of hell and howled.
The change came once a month, painful in its beginning and end--and every moment in between as well. No one could pinpoint the reason for it but Aldon had always been... different. Most of his kind were perfectly fine to group together during this time of the month, favoring their own territories in which to wait out the night, but from the time that he was a wee little babe, Aldon had been brought here. He wasn't safe. He wasn't... quite right.
Not even Roe, his own twin, experienced a change like this, all frenzy and madness, a crimson haze from start to finish. Aldon barely retained any of his human nature; that impish playfulness, the incurable lecherous nature, gave away to a singularly savage animal. There was no other word for him but animal--bereft of all sense and sensibility, he was a creature possessed by the bloodlust that drove him to hunt those of his own kind, to kill and feast upon their flesh.
As the echoes of his lonely cry faded, Aldon dropped his nose to the ground. He sniffed deeply, contorted in his current form like some grotesque hunchback, body rippling with hard muscle and white, sleek fur. The fur always made him stand out but he wasn't worried; it was a beacon to lure others to him. Once or twice there were hunters too but Aldon, with the cunning and ferocity of a wild animal, dealt with them.
Just as he lifted his head again, his ears twitched. A silky, dry rustle alerted him to another's presence and low, deep in the back of his throat, he growled. It sounded nearly like a purr. On stealthy feet Aldon crept forward, belly nearly to the ground, and as he sighted the dark silhouette of another--another like him, another wolf--he let out a ferocious snarl and pounced.
Ever since he'd been nicked in that hunting accident several months ago, Gregg had been on his own. After the battle, he insisted he was fine. He was just fine. However, the nick he'd received worried him. It was nothing but a small flesh wound, he told himself. Yet as the full moon began to crawl closer, his skin began to crawl, too. Something didn't feel right.
The shifting was too much. He had no control over it. All he could do was abscond himself far, far away from any potential victims and disappear from the hunting group he'd been associated with. He just... disappeared.
And here he was, in the forests of Washington, breathing heavily as he stumbled over some rock formation. The pain was finally beginning to subside and his vision cleared up. He breathed in the scent of nearby water. Under the light of the moon, he could see small animals scurrying about. A mouse was scooped up by an owl. Then he lowered his head, sensing another presence.
Another one. A wolf. He barely had the time to look up when a magnificent white wolf hurtled toward him, all snapping and snarling. Gregg let out a yelp and immediately pushed himself forward, attempting to swing the other wolf off and away from himself.
Snarling, growling, Aldon's teeth snapped at the newcomer's neck as he cannoned into him. The force of their collision was alleviated somewhat by the way that the other wolf swung but Aldon was quick on his feet, and even in the air his body twisted to make enough adjustment so that he wouldn't be thrown completely.
This was a new wolf. His scent was unfamiliar. The creatures that roamed these particular forests--aside from normal forest animals--already knew to lay low when Aldon came rustling through the underbrush. There were a few others like him, too, ones besieged by madness. Wolves. They couldn't form a pack exactly but it was pretty well-known that certain parts of the forest were off-limits.
So what was he doing here then?
Skittering to a halt, Aldon came around again. He wasn't the biggest of his kind but he was powerful, made more so by the strain of madness that he carried. Launching himself once more at the stranger, he bared his teeth in a feral display of aggression but something strange was happening. The red mist thinned before his eyes, allowing him to see his target.
Usually they were nothing more than a mass, a blur; not a face or a form but only the smell and sound of blood thrumming through veins and arteries. But Aldon saw, with increasing clarity, this new wolf. It was a little too late to stop, though; he crashed into him and together they went down in a heap, a wriggling mass of white and dark fur, thrashing limbs and long, sharp teeth.
When it came to fights between wolves, Gregg normally stayed the hell away from them. That was why he was here of all places. He'd come to get away from other wolves during his change. He didn't expect to run into another one--one that seemed to be in a deep frenzy as he wildly attacked.
Gregg wanted to fight, too. At first. Then as they tumbled over a hill together, he began to hear the world again. He could hear crickets. Owls. Rodents.
And he could hear the snuffling of the wolf that attacked him. No longer snarling, no longer tearing into him, the other wolf seemed to be coming to his senses. Gregg let out a growl, more of a warning than anything else, then moved away from the other wolf. He stumbled to his feet.
There was a wound somewhere around the scruff of his neck area where the wolf had attached himself but it didn't seem to be life threatening. It was in a place he couldn't lick, however. Stepping back and away, he lowered his head and let out another growl, unsure of what would happen next.
Aldon scented blood in the air but it did surprisingly little to stoke the frenzy inside in the way that fresh blood usually did. If anything, it was like a slap to the face--proverbially speaking. He backed off warily, gaze fixed on the newcomer, circling him as he was being circled.
Communication was restricted to yips and growls but he attempted to convey that he was no longer hell-bent on murdering the other wolf. His tail dropped and wagged--once--and Aldon finally sat down to inspect the stranger. He was definitely not one of them; not one of Aldon's kind and not of his pack, either.
After an evening of touring the forests of Washington with his new wolf companion, the pair ended up collapsing in a makeshift den--which was really just an outcrop of rock. It wasn't even really deep enough to be called a cave but it was out of the way and provided some measure of protection from the elements.
It was a clear enough summer night, so it wasn't as if the weather was tearing down on them but there might have been other predators out there.
Not that Greg was all that worried about it, even as a wolf. There weren't many creatures in these woods that would want to take on a wolf. Most of the predators in the area were birds of prey. The bigger mammals, like bears, weren't going to mess with them either.
When morning arrived, Greg had all but forgotten the night before. He tasted blood in the back of his throat, coppery and tangy. His body was curled around another body, which was unusual, given Greg's normal attitude toward sex and lovers. People called him frigid for a reason. He was all but celibate unless he was in really dire straits--and then it was better to pick up a pretty stripper than it was to actually date.
He certainly didn't curl around them.
The body beside him was male, which was also... unusual for Greg's typical tastes. He jerked back upon seeing that. Not that he had never been attracted, curious, or sexual with another male but... he didn't remember this one at all. Had never seen him before in his life.
Usually when "one thing led to another" with Aldon, he didn't end up stark naked in the forest with his evening's entertainment. Usually he woke up tousle-headed in bed, arms and legs tangled with other arms and legs or with sheets.
This morning, he was using somebody's arm as a pillow (normal), he was sore all over (oh hell yeah, they had a GOOD time last night didn't they?) and there was something digging into his back but it didn't feel like the usual thing that dug into people's backs in the morning.
Groaning softly, he turned over and heard something rustle. Not sheets. More like... pine needles and dry moss and a thick layer of dirt. The smell of mold filled his nostrils as he breathed in, mingling with something slightly wild. "Hm?" he queried without opening his eyes, feeling the body next to his shifting. Aldon threw out an arm and held on tight. No. Nobody was getting out of bed and dragging him out of bed with them! Never!
By degrees, events of the previous night came back to him as he half-dozed, clinging tenaciously to the last of unconsciousness. Moon. Full moon. His usual rampage through the woods hadn't ended in bloodshed when he met another wolf. There was anger at first, he remembered that, and then... curiosity. Sniffing and nudging and pawing. Somebody nipped somebody--playfully. Then they were running through the woods, twin streaks of white and gray, hunting more conventional prey. Actually it was all rather... fun, all things considered.
"Let's not get out of bed," Aldon whispered into what felt like a clavicle, not particularly worried about his current partner. Wasn't Ry; couldn't be Ry. He'd remember fooling around with Ry.
Greg didn't expect the arm to pull him back in. Actually, he thought the other person was still asleep, given his even breathing. But no, he was pulling Greg back in and close to his body heat.
The morning air was cool, sending a ripple of goosebumps over his skin. Morning dew clung to the plants that surrounded them and had settled in a delicate mist against their bodies, too. The other man smelled of the wilderness. His lips were soft as they moved against his collarbone. That was when Greg became more conscious of a stinging pain between his neck and shoulder. Nothing severe, but it felt like he'd been bitten or scratched.
Greg didn't check it. Instead, green eyes slid over the body, taking in its masculinity. Athletic thighs melded into the curve of an ass which in turn melded into a slightly arched back. The arm that wrapped around him was muscular, although it had nothing on Greg's arm. He didn't see the face, since it was currently pressed against his shoulder.
"We're not in bed," he finally spoke aloud, tone neutral.
"Mmhmm," Aldon hummed purely to humor the man, since his 'let's not leave the bed' was spoken more as a rhetorical demand than as an inquiry into what the other person preferred to do. Okay, he just plain didn't want to move, it wasn't a crime! But what was undoubtedly a crime was the chill running up and down his spine, and to ward it off he scooted closer to his partner until there couldn't possibly have been any space between them.
"It's cold," he complained purely for the sake of complaining, arm tightening. The guy felt solid. Very... solid and muscular in a way that was pleasing to Aldon, even with his eyes closed. He might have liked having it all his way, but that didn't mean that he liked having it all one way. (Although, yes, Aldon tended to stray towards pretty rather than musclehead but sometimes he changed it up.)
He was pretty tense, though, Aldon's partner whose name he couldn't actually recall. Also, they might not have done it. Aldon remembered the change, though other events were still somewhat hazy. But he assumed that if they ended up naked here together, there was more than 70% chance that something happened after they changed back. Generally Aldon woke up alone, surrounded by piles of bones and gore. This time, not so much, so his companion must have joined him after he reverted to his sane human form.
At length, he shifted but only his head, pulling back to look up. Hm. Good-looking. Naturally. "Hey," he said with a singular lack of originality, voice still husky from sleep. "Did we do it last night or...?"
Hm. Yes, it was cold but lying there naked in the forest wasn't going to fix that. They had to find their clothes. Except with a glance around, he began to realize it wouldn't be that easy at all.
They'd come off during the change. Wherever they were now, they were likely torn up and unwearable. Greg hadn't gotten so used to the change yet that he knew to prepare in advance, to strip down and get ready for it.
Even if he had, he would have forgotten where the hell he left those clothes because... of this.
How did he get into this predicament? He remembered the brilliant white wolf. He took in the other's hair. Did that have any bearing on his wolf form at all or was it bottle blond? Had to be bottled.
He remembered they ran together, tiring themselves in the process. But did they fuck?
Everything felt sore, in that good way, the way it felt after a good session at the gym or after a good fuck. His bum didn't feel sore, though. He tried to take a surreptitious glance at the other man's ass, as if it held the answers to the mystery. He looked at the other man at length for a long moment. Then:
"...how's your ass?"
Holy tattoos Batman! Aldon's gaze couldn't stop wandering, up and down and sideways. Jesus, somebody was brave! Just the thought of how much pain this guy had to endure just to get all of that inked on him was enough to curl Aldon's toes.
"Uh... huh?" He was distracted. There was a lot to take in, after all, and while the guy was checking him out, Aldon was definitely checking him out. He blinked and lifted his gaze, then sighed wistfully. If the guy had to ask, then they definitely didn't do it.
If nobody came away with a limp then... yeah, nothing happened. Aldon didn't always 'make love' and the wolfish part of him tended to get a little rowdy, especially around the full moon when those animalistic urges surfaced. Naturally, certain people were afforded more care and consideration than others.
However, with a crooked smile, he reached down for one of the guy's hands and re-positioned it on the body part that he inquired after. "You tell me how it is!" It was fine--obviously, since he didn't wince or scream in pain. "How's yours? What's your name again? Are you new? I feel like you're new." A guy like this showing up in Aldon's pack would have no shortage of admirers, and definitely wouldn't have gone unnoticed!
Not quite the reaction he expected. Because his question had been serious, he expected a serious response. Instead, the other man--wolf--man?--took his hand and placed it in a very obvious place. A nice place but a place that didn't look to have taken much punishment in the night.
"Fine."
His ass was fine. As far as he could tell, there was no sting, no feeling that he'd been fucked of violated the night before. Which to him was surprising, given the instincts that welled up when he took the form of a wolf. Not that he would have submitted to just anybody but the thing of it was, this one already knew.
He knew that Gregg wasn't exactly... well. He hadn't been around the werewolf block. He was new.
"Yes," he said, after a moment's reluctance to admit as much.
Oookay, no-name it was then. Not like Aldon wanted to know his name, or where he was from, or what he was doing in the woods so far out of town. Not like he was a curious person by nature, or loved butting into other people's business or anything. Sheesh!
...not like he bombarded a guy with several questions in rapid succession, right after waking up together in the middle of nowhere...
Still, it wouldn't have hurt the guy to be a little more spirited! Aldon looked him over, up and down (especially down). Hm. He did look fine. Nobody was bruised or marked in any way, except for the usual ones from changing back. There was a rock digging into his back, however; he arched away from it. "Well, Yes, my name is Aldon," he said with a cheeky little grin. The stupid joke would've made certain people cringe or groan; Aldon thought he was being rather clever.
"And if you're new here, then you wanna join up with a pack fairly quickly, caaause... You really don't want to get isolated by hunters, believe me." Those hunters were definitely out for blood lately. Some mercs even began showing up, taking out innocent people just because they happened to be different. Only a few weeks ago, Aldon's own pack came under attack--he was changed at the time, though, and couldn't exactly help anybody.
Finally, he pulled back and away from Yes. Couldn't lay around forever, even if he was comfortable where he was in the other man's arms. Aldon had things to do! "C'mon, let's get outta here and back to civilization. I'll introduce you to my pack leader, maybe he'll take you in!"
"It's Gregg," he said, by way of introduction. That was his name, not Yes. And this man was... Aldon. Aldon the werewolf. The magnificent white wolf; he remembered that much. Slowly, he lowered his gaze, then skirted it away, away from Aldon and his exposed body. It wasn't so much out of embarrassment as it was rumination.
How were they going to get anywhere when they were naked? Gregg wasn't body shy but the idea of just walking through the forest without any form of protection seemed foolhardy.
Hunters. His nostrils flared for a second. No, Aldon was right. He knew how hunters worked and if they found an isolated wolf... So he nodded and moved away as well. He got to his feet and looked around but if he hoped to find clothing, he was sadly disappointed. Nothing but flora and fauna as far as the eye could see.
With a bound, Aldon was on his feet. He shook himself in a vaguely dog-like manner to dislodge any clingy bits of dried leaves and dirt and then, quite without thinking, grabbed Gregg by the hand. "C'mon, I'll show you a shortcut. I think I know where we are." It was necessary to be able to find his way out, after all, and he didn't always end up at the same place during each full moon.
The going was kinda tough without shoes and a lack of clothing meant that they were prey to every stray breeze. Aldon tried in vain to shield himself and when that didn't work, he settled for grumbling.
"This is seriously the worst part of being us." The walk of shame--the naked walk of shame. Thankfully clothes would have been set out at the usual appointed place, and Aldon was fairly sure that there would be something for Gregg too. If not... well, it wouldn't kill him to wear clothes a few sizes too small for a little while.
"So," he said conversationally after the spate of grumbling had subsided. "Are you just new in town or... are you new new? You're lucky you didn't get mauled last night, you know. These woods aren't really safe, people usually change in the woods closer to town."
He made a small grunt in the back of his throat as his hand was taken. At least one of them knew where they were because hell if Gregg knew. All he did know was that he felt the uncomfortable heat, the itching under his skin, and when he looked it up, he realized it was the night of a full moon.
Instinct told him to get as far from humans as he could. Not just for his own self preservation but because he was still something of a hunter and he didn't want to contribute to the rise of the monsters in Evermore.
Plus, other hunters could easily find him and kill him since he was such a newbie.
"I'm new new," he said, using Aldon's ridiculous term for it.
"Ah." A knowing noise, half-sympathetic. "That explains it." But Aldon didn't say what he thought that explained because he was already distracted. He thought he saw the flash of an umber-colored, white-tipped tail whipping through the underbrush. Could it be...?
Nah. He's not that stupid.
These woods were strictly OFF-LIMITS to everyone who knew better than to stumble in during a full moon. Aldon swung their clasped hands lightly as he walked, almost like a child who fidgeted too much and couldn't quite keep still.
"So that was you? The wolf from last night? I didn't kill and eat you..." There was wonder in his voice, and a little bit of disbelief. Aldon studied him again. "Wonder why."
Yes, he was the wolf from last night, much to his chagrin. He nodded, slightly distracted by the rustle of a bush nearby. He thought he sensed somebody else nearby but when he looked, there was nobody there. Frowning, he turned his green eyes back toward Aldon.
He noticed that Aldon was looking at him, too. Gregg looked the other man over, forgetting for an instant that he was completely nude. He quickly swung his gaze back upward.
That was a strange thing to ponder.
"Do you normally eat other wolves?"
"Uhhh... Ye--kinda."
Aldon was, yes, still naked. So was Gregg. They were both extremely naked and this would have made for a good raunchy porno opening had they not both just recovered from a terrible ordeal the previous night. Also, Aldon was sore in several places that made being raunchy highly unappealing.
That didn't mean he couldn't look, though. Or ogle. Or openly ogle. A little grin colored his amused expression as Gregg suddenly found the surrounding woodland interesting. (Aldon just kept on checking him out.)
"I don't know too much about why it happens but there are... special werewolves." He finally did get around to explaining, since it was sorta important. "Some of us--including me--change into something different on the full moon. And usually what's on the menu are other werewolves, or even shifters sometimes. That's why... unless you're one of us... but I don't really think you are."
From what Aldon remembered of Gregg's wolf form, he seemed like just an ordinary werewolf--if a werewolf could be considered 'ordinary.'
Hm. Interesting. Hunters weren't aware of these special wolves. If they were, they never clued Gregg in on the fact. But what Aldon said only served to further puzzle him because what did it mean that Aldon hadn't eaten him? If he typically did, if he was one of those special types of wolves... what did that say about Gregg?
"How does it happen?" he asked. Maybe the wolf that got him was one like Aldon. A special one. Would it pass on to a human or a hunter? This all seemed like something he could definitely take notes on. Werewolves that attacked and ate other wolves...
If he was one of those, was it a blessing hidden behind the curse? If he killed other wolves the way Aldon did, it would be a way of retaining his hunting ability even when he lost his grip on humanity during a full moon.
It was definitely a lot to ponder.
"I dunno," Aldon replied carelessly to the question of how it happened, since he didn't exactly know. He was born with his affliction. The others didn't like to talk about how they came by their illness.
It was pretty obvious to his parents during his first full moon that something was off when he launched himself at his twin and attempted to tear his throat out with little baby werewolf teeth. All of that snarling and growling towards Roe kinda clued them in to the fact that Aldon was different from the other babies, who were mostly well-behaved.
"Just thought you should know, though, since you're..." He trailed off again, distracted. Aldon looked over his shoulder. Seriously, was his mind playing tricks on him or did he see a fox darting through the shadows? And was it any old fox or was it a fox?
Mentally shaking himself--and jarred back to reality by the stinging pain of stepping on a pine needle--he focused his attention back onto Gregg. Probably just a random forest animal. All around them, he could hear them scurrying; squirrels and rabbits and birds. A coyote or two, even. Probably a bear, deeper into the woods, and some crazy wolf that stories had it was cast out of his pack and took to living like a wild animal out here.
"Um. Where was I? Oh yeah, these are things you should know if you're gonna live out here, you know?" Just being a Good Guy, Aldon. He could see the trees thinning, though, just up ahead, which meant that they were almost out. Slowing his steps, he began to look around for the box of clothes that his pack left behind, for those unlucky enough to be caught out without anything to change into.
You're...? He followed Aldon's gaze but whatever he saw there, Gregg missed out on. Whatever. He scratched idly at his shoulder and hoped that he didn't end up rolling in poison ivy or some shit.
"Live out here?" Gregg asked, letting out a short, sharp laugh. "I wasn't planning to live out here."
Did Aldon live out here? Was that what he was saying? Maybe there was a whole den of werewolves out here. Gregg took a look around at where they were, drinking in the sights and making notes. When he was changing, he hardly knew what he was doing or where he was going but now that he was human again, he felt as if he had a clearer head.
"Is there a whole... clan of werewolves like... you?" He almost said us. Already lumping himself with the enemy.
Aldon shot Gregg a Look that doubted his sanity in all aspects. "Uhh. No." He lifted his free hand, wagged an admonishing finger. "Nobody lives out here in the woods, we're not cavemen Gregg, c'mon." OBVIOUSLY he meant live 'out here' as in 'the city.' Evermore wasn't the boonies but... it wasn't exactly a huge metropolitan city, by any stretch of the imagination.
"There are lots of packs," he said, moving on from the weirdness. Aldon lived in a nice apartment; others of his pack lived in similar places. Like, you know. People. They were supernatural beings but they were still--for the most part--also human.
"But around these parts there are sorta three major packs who own most of the territory. One of them's ours, of course. The best," he added quite unnecessarily, but with excessive pride. "We used to be the largest but hunters kept coming around and picking us off. A couple of them almost got me last month!"
He turned to show Gregg the long scar that ran down the back of his shoulder. "See? This is why you need the protection of a pack when you go out."
Right, they were referred to as packs. How did he forget something like that? Clans, packs, each group seemed to have some special name for it.
He listened keenly to what Aldon had to say about the largest packs. So, Aldon was a part of the one they'd taken on. That meant the wolves they'd fought a couple months back were from his pack. Of course, Gregg didn't voice that--he knew how fiercely loyal the werewolves could be to their packs and for all he knew, they'd taken out Aldon's family members or friends.
So he kept quiet about that bit.
Gregg reached out and traced the long scar on Aldon's shoulder. Silver knife?
"Hunters did this."
"Yeah," Aldon said quietly, gaze on Gregg's hand as it traced the jagged silvery line. One side of his mouth lifted in a crooked, but soft, smile. Gregg had a surprisingly deft touch for such a rough-looking guy. Then again, he was a surprisingly playful wolf for a man who didn't look like he'd ever learned the definition of a smile. Even his laugh earlier was more of a bark than an amused noise.
"Hunters. They don't even know us and they're all out here trying to kill us." There was no bitterness in Aldon's tone, but his smile had turned a shade wry. He shrugged the shoulder that bore the scar; sometimes it ached, but with time the feeling had diminished. Nothing like how it was just a month ago, when it was inflamed and the whole area was red and swollen.
"I mean. Do I look like a killer?" He squinted his eyes, made a show of baring his teeth, which were even and white. "Wait--killers are usually normal-looking people, right? Damn." Well, there went that theory.
Aldon moved for some bushes and soon was kicking a box out from behind them. He knelt by them--would have squatted but in his current naked state that left some sensitive parts dangling--and rooted around until he found the small bundle of clothes that he'd left for himself. Then he rummaged around until he found some jeans that looked like they'd fit Gregg. The label on the waistband said "Joshua" and, with almost an evil smile, Aldon handed the jeans to Gregg.
Josh wouldn't miss them. Much.
"No," he said, because the smile was disarming and no, it didn't look like it belonged on the face of a killer. But he was a werewolf--he had to remember that. Yet... nothing about Gregg's thoughts towards humans had changed. He didn't feel a need to kill any people... just...
"Thank you," he said, pushing his thoughts away as he took the jeans offered to him. There was no time to be thinking about werewolves and his life as a Hunter. He would have to do that later, when he was alone and he could properly give it some thought.
"Is there an induction to join a pack?"
"What? Like getting hazed?" Aldon grinned while pulling on his clothes. "Nah, nothing like that. We don't do the weird rituals that some others do." Like witches, or even some shifters. No, their pack was normal, full of normal people just trying to survive, like everyone else.
"I mean, you're probably gonna have to talk to Andrew, like interview style, but he's a pretty good guy. He'll let you join if you're not a weirdo or anything. I think the last guy he turned away was kinda messed up but that was years ago."
That guy was Weird--capital W and everything. They found him, in his human form, trying to eat dead animals that he'd trapped and hunted and that kind of behavior was just... Well. Weird. It was unacceptable, as a human, to carry on that way. As a wolf, some things could be forgiven but they all tried to live like ordinary people and eating roadkill was not ordinary, no way, no how!
Once dressed--it didn't take long to pull on pants and a hoodie--Aldon leaned in closer. He inspected Gregg with a playful smile. "You look pretty normal to me! Are there any deep dark secrets I should know about before I take you to my pack leader?"
Kinda messed up? While Gregg ruminated on what that could mean, he scanned the forest yet again. Nothing out of the ordinary, he thought. How would he know what was out of the ordinary, though?
As Aldon leaned in closer, Gregg fought the urge to lean back or give him a hearty shove away. Instead, he remained as he was, staring back with hard green eyes. Indeed, he had secrets but he wasn't going to share them.
"No."
Now he did step past Aldon.
"Where is this Andrew?"
WHOA! What was with that stern look? Aldon leaned back slightly, taken by surprise. Well, geez. It wasn't like he was asking for Gregg's social security number, he was just playing! Even if Gregg did have deep, dark secrets, Aldon didn't really want to know. They had only met for less than a day--way too soon to be exchanging life stories!
Nevertheless, he turned after Gregg and shrugged it off. Maybe it was a trick of the light that made Gregg's eyes harden that way. Could be. (Maybe.) "I dunno if he's around right now. He's a pretty busy guy, but maybe Rae knows when he'll be free." He paused to pick his way around a damp patch of mud. "Rae's his son. And my best friend."
One of his best friends, anyway, and luckily not the one whose pants Gregg was wearing. Aldon glanced left and right and then nudged Gregg down a narrow path that had been trodden many times; it was a groove carved into the packed earth.
"In the meantime, we can go to my place and cle--" Aldon didn't get to finish his sentence as a shadowy figure crossed the path in front of them, darting out from behind a tree to hide behind another. "Ey! Josh?"
"Somebody stole my pants!" An irritated voice hissed. "I left them in the box and now they're gone!"
The heat of his stare must have said more than Gregg needed to, because Aldon backed off and didn't seem keen on finding out more about his past. Good, because Gregg had nothing to tell. Nothing that wouldn't immediately get him in trouble and he already had enough of that from the other side of the fence.
He stopped this time when he saw a shadowy figure and this time when he breathed in, he scented something familiar. Like them. Another werewolf...? Gregg looked over at Aldon, expecting an explanation as the person growled about their stolen pants.
Somehow, he had a feeling about the person that stole them...
"Oh no, someone stole your pants?" Aldon gasped in feigned astonishment, before giving Gregg a big old grin and a matching wink. "How terrible! What kind of scumbag would do that?"
Discreetly he checked out the pants that Gregg was wearing. Yeah they were kinda tight on him, since Josh wasn't the biggest guy around, but Josh had a habit of bringing larger clothes with him, since he tended to get injured quite a bit during the chaos of the change. Larger, loose-fitting clothes didn't hurt the way that tight-fitting ones might as they rubbed up against any raw bruises or contusions.
"My friend Josh," he muttered as an aside to Gregg, just to keep him in the loop. "He's probably not coming out though." And Josh remained firmly hidden behind the trees and bushes, a disembodied voice.
"Did you see anybody around who might've taken them?" Josh's voice was still irritable.
"Nope!" Cheerfully replying, Aldon tugged on Gregg's hand again. "Gregg and I are heading back to my apartment though. See you later Josh!"
"No! Aldon! Get back here!"
But Aldon was already setting off, blithely ignoring Josh's increasingly vehement threats against him, should he continue walking. Turning to Gregg, he laughed, "He'll be fine, he's probably just gonna take somebody else's clothes."
"How many sets of clothing are stashed here?" Gregg wanted to know as they left Josh behind.
Gregg was aware that he was the one that had stolen the pants but he didn't bother interjecting. Better that Josh person remained naked than himself and Aldon seemed to be in agreement.
More interesting was the fact that Aldon said they were heading to his apartment. His apartment was near here? What a strange location for an apartment...
"A couple. Our pack's is just that one box, though. There's only about a dozen of us so we don't need that many clothes." Speaking of which, he hadn't seen Rae anywhere. Maybe the guy was still sleeping off the effects of the change. That shit was exhausting! At least--usually it was, but this morning for some reason Aldon felt quite energized. He wondered if it was because he'd spent the night frolicking with Gregg, instead of trying to hunt down and fight every other wolf in the vicinity.
It wasn't long before they had made it out of the woods, ascending a long but mild slope out of the forest and onto a stretch of highway. Aldon stretched his hands over his head, reveling in the sun just beginning to peek out from behind a few wispy cloud banks. "There's a bus stop here that takes us back into town. Convenient, right?" He grinned as he led the way down the road. "Nice thing about living on an island is that even if you get lost, you can pretty much just walk around until you hit town."
There was no one at the lonely bus stop, which was nothing more than a bench and a pole with the bus sign attached to it. Aldon flopped down onto the bench and stretched out his legs. "If you're new to the whole werewolf scene, though, there's a couple of things you should know. One, we don't hurt humans... even though they're assholes and keep bringing hunters around. Andrew's pretty strict about us living like normal people, except during the full moon. Then most of our pack heads out into the woods closer to town, and me and the other, more special guys, come out here. Two, we don't. Uh. How do I put this."
Aldon paused for a moment to come up with the right words. "We don't associate with anything lower than us on the food chain." He coughed. Like foxes. One of whom he used to date--and one of whom his best friend Rae was currently dating. Better not let Gregg know about those "exceptions," though.
Only a dozen. Only a dozen left? Or a dozen in the pack? A dozen crazed werewolves? He didn't bother asking. He would see for himself, which was unprecedented--an inside look as a hunter.
The morning along the highway was mostly quiet, punctuated with the sound of birds and warmth as the sun began to rise.
As they approached the bus bench, Gregg wondered if the others would be arriving to take this same bus. Would an entire population of werewolves take this exact same bus? Or did some of them come out later? Gregg still didn't ask--the majority of his information came from observation or chatty individuals like Aldon here.
He sat down and the bench groaned in protest. He didn't sit back, instead, still feeling on guard. His eyes narrowed as he stared down the road. Humans weren't harmed? Then how did he explain what happened to Gregg? Yet again, he said nothing, only frowned.
With all the hesitation coming from Aldon, Gregg had to wonder what he was trying to say. Turning back toward him, Gregg finally did ask a question, "What do you mean?"
Was he talking about shifters? Because he couldn't imagine mad werewolves associating with bunnies and birds.
"Ugh you're gonna make me say it, aren't you?" Aldon sighed and turned to Gregg. He put a hand on Gregg's knee like he was some sagely old mentor, about to reveal the secret of everlasting life to his disciple.
"Don't get involved with shifters. Anything less than a wolf and... well the others are gonna look down on you pretty hard for it. Trust me, you don't want to be That Guy."
Which was rich given how Aldon was That Guy but he knew from experience that it wasn't exactly nice being the one who bucked the trend. Even his best friends gave him hell--though Rae was a total stinking hypocrite, for dating a fox in secret!
"Just stick to wolves, it's much easier on your social life. People look after you better if they like you, y'know? And if they don't like you, when hunters come around, you're probably gonna be the first to go."
So it was shifters. Gregg looked down at the hand on his knee but did nothing about it. He wasn't fond of strangers touching him unless he paid them to do it but it just seemed like Aldon was one of those Overly Friendly types. Probably best to stay on his good side.
"What about other shifters?" he asked. "Bears? Lions?"
What exactly counted as a lesser shifter? Things that wolves ate? What did it say about birds of prey, then? And was he really giving this any thought? As if he gave a shit about what they would allow him to associate with, should he decide to.
Still. Notes. Notes were good.
"...you wanna date a bear shifter?"
Aldon wasn't going to lie, he judged a little bit. Just a little bit! But that was because the only bear shifter he knew was... uh... a real bear. Of a man. And a bear. Not somebody who was his type but maybe Gregg liked his men large and hairy...?
"Aaaanyway, just nothing lower on the food chain and you're solid." He bounced to his feet as the outline of the bus came into view beyond the hill, slowly chugging its way towards them. "When we're all rested up, I'll introduce you to Rae and Josh. Oh and my twin, Roe. Monroe. Did I mention I had a twin?" He probably hadn't.
"He's like twelve minutes older... but I'm better looking. Obviously." Aldon grinned and smoothed down his hair, preening even though Gregg hadn't even seen Roe yet. Not that he needed to, because Roe was basically the same as Aldon, except he had dark hair and was a stick-in-the-mud about dating anyone who wasn't a hopeless, alcoholic loser.
No, he had no desire to be with a bear and the way Aldon looked at him made him wonder if Aldon was thinking he was one of those super gay men who were really into bears. Like the kind of gay man who was all big, tough, and hairy.
He didn't bother clarifying. It was really none of Aldon's business.
Rae, Josh, Roe. He had no faces to the names... except maybe Monroe, if he and Aldon were identical twins. When he and his group hunted the werewolves, he only saw large wolf creatures. He didn't see them as people. Now he knew that Aldon was the white wolf. The others... he remembered seeing a lot of generic grey ones.
"What about the alpha?"
"I'm pretty sure Andrew's married, so..."
Okay, Gregg probably didn't mean that he wanted to date Andrew. Maybe he was nervous about meeting the Alpha--most people were, who met him the first time. He was sorta stern, a real strict father type figure, but he was also fair. For all the times that Aldon screwed up, it was a minor miracle that he hadn't gotten kicked out yet!
As the bus stopped before them and the doors creaked open, Aldon shook his head. "We usually have a pack meeting after the full moon, to make sure everybody made it okay. I think it's probably better to bring you to that. I was hoping we'd run into Rae, and he could introduce you, but he's also kinda... grumpy after the change."
"Kind of grumpy" was an understatement. Aldon didn't feel so hot afterwards either and judging by the fact that they stole Josh's pants, Josh was going to be plenty pissed too. That tended to happen after a night of exhausting hunting, and then an ultra painful change back into a human. Sigh. It wasn't all fun and games, being a werewolf.
He got onto the bus and, after rooting around his pockets, came up with bus fare for the two of them. Then he made for the back and collapsed into an empty seat. "You still wanna come to my place? Or do you live closer? Where DO you live anyway?"
...It took Gregg a moment to understand Aldon's quip. Then he rolled his eyes away. He wasn't asking to date the alpha, nor was he interested in pursuing any of these wolves. Although, curiously, his sense of desire seemed to have risen with the advent of the werewolf wound.
When the bus arrived, Gregg climbed aboard. He almost said he'd get his own fare but he wasn't even wearing his own clothing. Once the fare was paid and they were sitting in the back of the bus, Gregg arranged his limbs as comfortable as he could in the cramped bus.
"Where do YOU live?" he asked. How was he supposed to know whether his home was closer or not? In truth, however, when he looked outside the windows, he was certain that he didn't.
"On Elm street," Aldon replied innocently, glancing outside as the woods flashed past. It would be a few stops before they entered the city proper, and before concrete and cement replaced the tall, straight trees and vibrant greenery. He settled back comfortably, not being nearly as tall as Gregg and not having to accommodate his own legs to the cramped space between seats.
"Is that closer? I tried to get a place closer to here, because. You know. It sucks having to bus back and forth." No car, sadly, for Aldon. He was barely making rent and the money that he had left in his bank account went towards things like food and school fees. During the summer he picked up odd jobs but Aldon... he wasn't about that 9-5 life. He much preferred doing what he liked, when he liked, instead of being cooped up somewhere all day.
"It's closer."
He knew it would be. Elm Street. It would have made Gregg laugh if he had more of a sense of humor. This whole thing was kind of a nightmare. Gregg wasn't prone to hysterics and he was calm about the whole werewolf thing on the outside but on the inside, he wasn't quite so okay with it.
So far, he had yet to share this information with his hunter group and he had no idea how he was going to approach that mess. With this, however, he had something of an "in." At least if he was useful as a werewolf, they wouldn't be so quick to kill him.
"My place it is!"
Aldon tried to remember if he'd left anything incriminating out. Well, the most incriminating secret he kept was that he was a werewolf but Gregg already knew that, so it didn't count. He didn't think that Gregg would go around snooping in his laptop folders, so... he was pretty safe.
Breathing a sigh of relief--wait, maybe he left some underwear out? But they weren't gross dirty underwear--he settled back in his seat. Lightly, the outside of his knee knocked against Gregg's. "This is your first time, right? I mean, becoming a--you know. You're doing pretty well! Most people are freaking out by now."
It sounded a little sordid, the fact that "his place it was." Gregg didn't normally go home with men at all. Normally, he just bought and paid for a few hours with a pretty woman and left it at that. His needs were met and left alone until they needed to be met again. Wasn't that all a man needed?
Gregg didn't want a relationship. He didn't want to get entangled in a romance with somebody. The idea of the whole thing just gave him an utter headache. He remembered fumbling through relationships as an idiot teenager and he remembered what a hell they were with his head. There were always words and promises and things got broken. In the end, his way was better.
He knew that wasn't what was happening here but he still thought on it. Maybe it was the way their knees bumped. Maybe it was because they'd been naked together. Maybe it was just the way he felt when he woke up with somebody's arms around him.
Leaning an arm against the seat in front of him, Gregg shook his head.
"Second time."
Aldon glanced over with a curious expression. "Oh yeah? Second time huh?" Well that explained the lack of freaking out. He'd seen some guys go batshit crazy; it was sort of an... interesting experience. Of course, being a born werewolf, Aldon was mostly used to the change but he imagined that if he was a normal boring old human changing for the first time, that he'd probably lose his shit too.
"So... how'd it happen?"
Maybe an insensitive question, but Aldon wasn't exactly the most subtle or the most thoughtful person to exist on the island. He reached over and patted Gregg on the forearm, the one resting on the back of the seat--just a little comforting, friendly gesture. Kind of funny how most of his friends looked down on 'humans' but after they turned, they were somehow suddenly all right.
Here it was: the dreaded "how did it happen?" question that anybody would ask in Aldon's place. In fact, if he was honest with himself, Gregg wanted to know how it happened to Aldon, too. Was he born this way or did it happen similarly to the way it happened to Gregg?
What he did know was that if he was going to lie, he'd better stick as close to the truth as possible. Half truths were more believable and less annoying to have to remember than some outlandish fairy tale.
"I was with some friends when we came upon some of your... some werewolves. My friends got away unscathed."
And he hadn't, obviously.
"You were the only one that got bitten?!"
Ouch! Talk about bad luck! Aldon made a sympathetic noise as he rocked back against his seat, shaking his head. It had to be admitted that he didn't feel bad so much about the biting itself as he did about the fact that Gregg was the only one who suffered the consequences. What did they say? Misery loved company, didn't it?
"But hey! Now you get cool--" He lowered his voice, since a woman was starting to look at him funny, talking about being bitten and all. "Now you get cool super strength and stuff, you know? It's not all bad being one of us!"
Like the fact that they were ultra strong. Some healed more quickly and all of them had heightened senses, which made a lot of activities far more enjoyable--like eating, or... certain other activities.
After the attack, Gregg kept the wound to himself. At first, he thought it was little more than a nick but the wound seemed to be infected. Now it was a scar, a mark on his upper arm that he hoped nobody had spied so far. His fellow hunters would know that mark, the shape of that bite anywhere.
"I was already strong."
His muscles weren't for show. He actually used them for something more than modeling and looking good. Eyeing Aldon, he still wondered what his status was amongst the wolves. Not an alpha but he did seem to have some leadership qualities to him.
And he was feral, a previously unheard of branch, at least to his group of hunters. Sure, they realized some were tougher but just struck that up to time spent as a wolf. Older vampires were stronger so the same likely held for werewolves.
Aldon's gaze flicked admiringly over Gregg. Yeah. He was probably strong before being bitten. "Well. Yes, clearly." A flirtatious smile hovered on his lips as he touched one of Gregg's biceps. Yep. Muscle. They felt nice too, wrapped around him--he distinctly remembered feeling warm and safe when he woke up.
"But now you'll be even stronger! Just be careful when you shake hands, cause I totally broke a guy's fingers once." In his defense, he had been totally distracted and wasn't paying attention to how hard he squeezed. But it did sorta give him a bad-ass reputation... as someone who went around breaking the hands of innocent people.
As the bus trundled into the outskirts of town, Aldon took his attention off of Gregg's well-formed arms. "Almost there," he sang, ridiculously happy about the thought of going home to a nice, hot shower and a change of clothes. Also he needed his phone--badly. What if a certain someone tried to get in touch with him? (Not likely, but... still.)
"Do you have any brothers? A twin maybe?" It was time for personal questions! Aldon did love to get to know people and he loved talking about himself. New people meant a lot of both, which was why he kept chattering in Gregg's ear until it was time to get off the bus, and he bounded off energetically onto the sidewalk in front of his apartment.
Since he doubted he was going to be breaking any fingers or hands while being polite any time soon, Gregg mostly shrugged off the advice. He noticed the gaze on his well formed eyes and had he been one of his siblings, he would have flexed slightly for the attention. He didn't. He wasn't one of them. Instead, he turned his gaze out the window.
Close, huh? He read some of the street signs as they passed them. They were close to the area where one of the other hunters lived, too. Elm... Not on Elm but he lived nearby.
"Seven brothers," he said as he stepped off the bus with Aldon. He watched the bus take off. Elm Street. They were here.
"SEVEN?!" Aldon's voice had gone up an octave. "Seven brothers?" And here he thought he had it bad enough, fighting with Roe and his other siblings for the attention of their parents but. Geez. Seven.
"And all of you guys survived living in one household?"
Seven guys living under one roof... The testosterone must have gone through the roof. It felt like somebody would've gotten killed, or at least severely injured. Even Aldon, who was by no means a physical person, sometimes felt the need to strangle Roe--and they didn't even live together anymore.
As he led Gregg towards the front doors, he shook his head. "Well no wonder you're all tough. Are you the oldest?"
Seven. Seven brothers. It did sound like an absurd number to the uninitiated. Gregg used to wonder why the hell his parents kept going after the first one, since his oldest brother was a Class A asshole, but then... to them, he was their precious baby and his mother just kept right on having more of them. Babies. That became assholes.
"Youngest."
Did he seem like an oldest kid? He wondered if the youngest in smaller families were more spoiled. They were often referred to as the babies, which wasn't normally a word associated with adult Gregg.
Aldon laughed rather delightedly. "You're the baby?!"
Really... Gregg didn't look like the youngest of any family. Maybe it was just the air of capability about him, or the stern look that never hovered too far away from his face, or that certain intense Look in his eyes that might have warded off a far less friendly--or maybe foolish--individual.
But Aldon, unsuspecting of his new friend's real identity, was far less wary of him than he should have been. It was also because of the fact that they had spent the whole night together; it created a certain bond between them as wolves that carried through as humans. He led Gregg to the elevator and jammed a thumb onto the button to call it down to the lobby.
"I can't..." He looked up at Gregg and scrutinized him with almost exaggerated seriousness. "Nope. Can't see you as the baby."
As with most people who learned of his place in the birth alignment, it seemed that Aldon found it amusing that he was the youngest. If one saw him alone, then yes... it did seem strange. One didn't always connect the people they saw to families. Gregg could have a wife and five kids and people would still disconnect that from what they saw when they looked at him. What they anticipated.
It seemed that Aldon was even trying to imagine it. He would never quite get it if he didn't know him as a youngster or saw the pictures and photos. He wasn't born with height, muscles, and tattoos, after all.
The older boys used to knock him around, which was great practice for the real world. When he began hunting, he found his purpose.
Although he seemed calm, he was still tumultuous beneath the skin. His purpose had been ripped from him but he was struggling to hold onto it. There was still the plan to sell out the wolves and their hideouts once he was in with them. He had that; it was still a branch of his purpose.
The problem was, he knew that wouldn't last forever but the lycanthropy would.
He stepped into the elevator and silently waited for Aldon.
Not even a twitch of the lips! Sheesh, talk about serious. Aldon didn't know anybody as serious as Gregg. It was fascinating and quite novel; usually he managed to get at least a giggle out of someone. What did it take to make Gregg laugh, he wondered? Was he ticklish anywhere?
Or was that cheap? Aldon wasn't above playing dirty, though. He slid into the elevator with a secretive smile and pushed the button for his floor. Nobody hopped on with them--perfect.
As the elevator ascended with a jolt, he snuck a hand over and lightly wiggled his fingertips against Gregg's side. Just. Just to test his theory. Gregg couldn't be a robot; something had to amuse him!
He watched Aldon press the button for his floor and he tucked the information away. While he was still pondering over the details of his plans, he didn't even notice that Aldon was sidling up beside him--or that his hand was coming at his bare torso.
The touch was so unexpected that he actually jolted physically, contorting before he stepped away from Aldon with a mild glare.
"What," he asked, grasping Aldon's wrist to stop him from attempting to do it again. "Are you trying to do?"
"Nothing!" Aldon's eyes widened innocently as he gave his captured wrist an experimental tug. "Just... wondered if you were ticklish," he added somewhat sheepishly, though he wasn't really sorry. He may have looked it, but he regretted nothing!
Although, disappointingly, Gregg didn't burst out laughing the way he anticipated. Maybe his ticklish spot existed somewhere else. Since he had been caught, Aldon abandoned his plan--for now--but eventually he'd get a laugh out of Gregg. The elevator had taken them up, anyway, and soon they were slowing to a halt.
"This is my floor!" He jabbed at the opening elevator doors in the hopes of distracting Gregg from his sudden attack. "Come on! Hot shower! I need it! Right now!"
Gregg was.
He was ticklish.
That was why he contorted in such a fashion. It was also why he grasped Aldon's wrist to stop him from continuing down that road. Years of inking his body didn't quite numb that reflex in his body but he was no longer a child. Laughter wasn't the immediate reaction anymore.
He let go of Aldon as he pulled away, having no reason to hold onto him any longer. Plus, a hot shower sounded more than amazing at the moment. After a night sleeping in the forest, he wanted nothing more than to soothe his aching muscles with hot water.
"Me too."