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Full moons are rough. Undeniably the worst day for Shiro each month as he always ends up either naked in the woods somewhere, or naked in a freshly trashed apartment that he has to buy all new furniture for. So when he bolts up in bed, naked but clean, Shiro is sure that he is dead and now in heaven. When a brown haired man with blue eyes and a warm smile walks into the room, Shiro grows more convinced.
“Hey, so like...your dick is huge.”
Maybe not heaven.
When Shiro waddles to the bathroom wearing nothing but bedsheets; it feels like something out of a teenage drama. The man who took him in, Lancey Lance, as he introduced himself, reminds Shiro of every suspiciously hot class clown in every 80’s film. Meanwhile, he is the unfortunate soul who got stuck with a monthly curse. In the movies he might even be considered the zero-to-hero protagonist. He definitely feels like a zero considering he can’t figure out which product on the meticulously organized bathroom counter is the handsoap. It’s not the one in the pink bottle. Shiro learns that quickly, when the lightest press of his hand gushes rose-scented lotion into the old-fashioned periwinkle sink.
When he finally finds the soap and washes his hands, he wipes them dry on a blue and white towel with a seashell and “Everyday is Beach Day” embroidered into its threadbare stitches. There, beneath the fresh scents of five different flowers and aloe, Shiro smells something else. Bacon. It smells like bacon.
Shiro is a healthy man. He works out six times a week, runs all through the night once a month, and he is very strict about his diet. Bacon is not part of this diet. But it is bacon that drags him, black bedsheet and all, down the white-walled hallway and into a cramped kitchen. Tinny guitar music leaks from an old radio perching on the windowsill. The sound of plucked strings and low hums mix with his shuffling footsteps. Lance turns and eyes him from the stove, backlit by the beginnings of a new day. Shiro hovers awkwardly in the mouth of the hallway when Lance gestures to the table littered with unopened mail and scented candles.
“Go sit. I left some clothes for you in my room but if you’d rather go toga then I’m not opposed,” Lance chuckles. Shiro tugs the bedsheet tighter around his waist and coughs into his free hand.
“I’ll, um, take you up on the clothes,” Shiro says evenly. Lance nods and turns away to flip the bacon, just missing the flush that besets Shiro from the tips of his ears to his toes. Shiro immediately darts back toward the bedroom he had previously vacated and closes the door with a soft click. At the foot of the bed lies a pile of clothes. There’s no underwear, but Shiro can’t fault Lance for not offering Shiro his entire wardrobe.
Dropping the sheet, Shiro pulls the pants on, a faded “Varadero Track and Field” snugly lettering his thigh when he reaches for the shirt provided for him. Shiro holds out the black t-shirt and shrugs. Simple enough.
It’s too small.
With both arms and his head wedged through the proper holes, Shiro struggles for much longer with unforgiving fabric than any grown man should struggle with anything. The result leaves Shiro wondering if he will be able to breathe properly ever again. As he tests it out, the new smell of freshly cooked eggs trickles up his nose. Bacon and eggs. His mouth starts to water.
Shiro decides that breathing properly can take a backseat to his tightly fitted but grumbling stomach.
***
As he steps back out into the kitchen, Shiro spots Lance standing at the kitchen table. All of the loose papers have been shuttled away and replaced by two plates of still-sizzling bacon and eggs. Despite all of the discipline Shiro has hardwired into his bones over his entire lifetime, the residual (and immediate) effects of werewolfdom always manage to overpower him. So he digs in and doesn’t even pause when a plate of toast appears at his elbow.
“Damn you must be really hungry, wolf boy.” Lance’s amused voice cuts through the haze of hunger and Shiro swallows as quickly as he can. “You want some salt and pepper or are you just going to keep on chugging? Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” Lance laughs, holding the salt shaker in his right hand and the pepper shaker in his left. Shiro licks the yolk he can feel drying on his lips before reaching for something to say.
“Thank you. I’m so sorry for the trouble,” Shiro says. The man has done nothing but help him and Shiro hasn’t even said anything beyond “sure I’ll borrow your clothes.” A moment passes as Shiro mentally drags himself for such a strange answer to his host’s question. He receives a simple tilt of the head for his troubles.
“So is that a yes to the salt and pepper?” Lance asks. The human’s eyes glitter with mischief as he takes in the discomfort and embarrassment that overtakes his unexpected guest. Shiro, struggling to figure out what to say next, ends up swallowing before holding his hands out to accept the salt and pepper shakers. Lance smiles indulgently before turning back to his own food.
Shiro awkwardly seasons the egg he hasn’t already demolished and tampers down his desperation just long enough to watch as Lance digs into his untouched plate with gusto comparable to his own. Lance pays Shiro no mind as he uses a piece of bread to slop the broken yolk around his plate. His brows furrow as he uses his fork to scoop stray pieces of egg and a haphazardly cut piece of bacon onto the wheat as well. It is only when he has the prepared mouthful between his lips that he looks up. Shiro watches with mild awe and incredible relief as Lance simply smiles with the egg, bacon, and bread all stretching his cheeks till bursting.
“Aren’t you hungry?” Lance asks around the massive mouthful. His blue eyes dart from Shiro’s face to the now neglected plate, still half full. “I’m sure toting around a schlong that large on an all-night roadtrip has to be exhausting.”
Shiro stares at him for a moment before a laugh forces its way up his throat and ripples through his shoulders and chest.
“My dick isn’t that big,” Shiro chuckles. “Plus I really don’t think that it matters when you’re a hulking mass of muscle and fur.”
“I beg to yiffer,” Lance mutters under his breath.
“What?”
“Nevermind. The point is that if you’re hungry, you should eat!” Lance shrugs. He pointedly shovels more into his mouth and makes exaggerated chewing sounds that make Shiro grimace. Lance continues to munch, undeterred by Shiro’s disapproval at the obnoxious noises he’s making. Finally, Lance stops chewing and stares at the cooling food on Shiro’s plate.
So Shiro picks up his fork, takes a piece of toast, and starts piling the remaining breakfast onto the crisp bread. Lance beams and starts chattering as Shiro eats. Each word is accompanied by a wave of hands as they both finish their food with heavy sighs and heavier stomachs. Shiro struggles to follow Lance’s constantly shifting threads of conversation but nods politely anyway as he Lance begins recounting the night before.
“Okay, first thing’s first, do you usually howl right outside people’s doors?” Lance asks curiously.
“I’m not sure,” Shiro admits with lowered eyes. “I honestly don’t have any control or presence of mind while in my wolf form. I don’t retain any memory of what happened either.” He lets out a deep sigh. “ I know, it’s unusual. Most werewolves keep all of their memories,” he finishes before Lance can ask. Lance looks a bit put out at the news but moves on before Shiro can question him.
“Well, then I guess I’m gonna give you a cool inside look as I Know What you did Last Night,” Lance grins, voice warbling with drama as he looks at Shiro expectantly.
“I would actually really appreciate that,” Shiro sighs in relief. Lance deflates and rolls his eyes before he speaks again.
“Alright, well anyway, I would like to take credit for rescuing you last night from the big bad public nudity charge you would’ve been slapped with, but really you just...came to my apartment and started howling and scratching at the door.” The man stands and moves to the center of the space between the kitchen and the living room. He sets his hand on the door in question, opening it and gesturing to the thin lines carved into the heavy wood that crosshatch as they get closer to the doorknob. “I’m actually kind of impressed because I’m not sure if you’re aware, but this is the third floor.”
Shiro takes a moment to process everything of what Lance has just said, nodding thoughtfully as he tries to wrap his mind around the fact that he, as a wolf, seems to have specifically wanted to get into this apartment. Lance’s apartment. On the third floor.
“So you just let me inside?” Shiro half-shouts in disbelief. “You just let a giant wolf into your apartment?”
Lance laughs sheepishly and shrugs.
“I tried to shoo you away with a broom, but you didn’t seem aggressive or anything. Honestly I thought you were just a really big lost dog.” The man rubs the back of his neck and closes the front door. “You weren’t even really forcing your way inside. As soon as I opened the door you just kind of...wagged your tail and licked my hand.”
“I...wagged my tail and licked your hand?” Shiro repeats dubiously. “I don’t think I understand.”
“So this morning at like three am, you woke me up because you were howling at my front door. Not only did you interrupt my beauty sleep, you also scared the pants off of me when you started trying to claw your way inside. Are you following me?” Lance pauses as Shiro nods hesitantly. “Great, so after that I tried to figure out exactly what was happening but again you just kind of looked and sounded like a big dog.”
“Wolves are dogs,” Shiro murmurs thoughtfully. He gets up and moves to the door as well, sniffing on instinct as the back of his mind snuffs contentedly at the claim of territory.
“Exactly! Plus it was literally three in the morning and I was scared half to death. I was pretty relieved to see something familiar instead of what I was expecting.”
“What were you expecting?”
“A demon.”
“A demon? Why? Did you make a deal with one?”
“No. But I do have a large family and not all of us are necessarily close,” Lance answers. “I could definitely be a throwaway sacrifice. With a face like this one I’m sure I’m worth at least ten to twenty extra years.” Shiro cannot help the smile that tugs his cheeks as Lance continues with his retelling of events. “Anyway, so I unearthed my broom and tried to like wave it at you? But you just kind of stared at me. Exactly the way you are staring at me now.”
Shiro blinks away the arched brow and curled lip before coughing into his hand. “And that didn’t work.”
“No it did not. But you did seem a bit concerned for me so you bit into the handle of the broomstick and guided me back inside,” Lance says indignantly. “See?” The man offers Shiro an unkempt broom whose wooden stem is indeed gouged with teeth-marks. “Anyway so you led me back inside and just made yourself at home.”
“So again. You let a wolf into your house?”
“A very nice wolf who was nuzzling my legs!” Lance exclaims indignantly. “You were really kind and gentle. Yeah maybe your teeth were scary but you just seemed like you wanted company.” Lance goes quiet after that.
“Thank you for taking me in,” Shiro says finally, facing Lance fully as they both stand on either side of the closed front door.
“Yeah, no problem,” Lance mutters.
“So...what exactly happened when I turned back?” Shiro broaches the question that has been waiting impatiently to be asked. Lance’s cheeks and neck burn red as he mutters something Shiro can’t understand. “What?”
“I was back in bed and you were cuddled with me but then you suddenly turned back and you were a hot naked man and I didn’t know what to do but you looked super peaceful so I just camped out on the couch and let you sleep and then you woke up! And that’s it! So do you want tea or coffee to wash down breakfast?” Lance says frantically. He abandons any sense of casual conversation as he leaves the dirty dishes on the table before busying himself in the kitchen.
That explains a lot.
“Sorry for um...popping that surprise on you,” Shiro hedges. “I’m sure that must have been really startling.” The sound of water rushing and the smell of the gas stove all disappear as Lance sets a kettle onto one of the burners. Shiro watches as Lance swallows heavily and lets out a snort.
“You know, you’re probably the best thing that’s happened to me since I moved here, actually. So is it coffee or tea?”
Shiro blushes as Lance smiles at him with an openness Shiro no longer expects of people. The man radiates energy and effervescence as he pulls out two matching black and blue mugs.
“Coffee, please.” Lance nods and moves through his kitchen to the pantry. He sticks his head in before returning to the counter. Two scoops of instant coffee per mug, and then fingers tapping on the counter. Shiro clears his throat before speaking again. “I find it hard to believe that a run-in with an extra-docile werewolf is the best thing that’s happened to you,” Shiro says. Shiro watches carefully as the corners of Lance’s smile droop for a moment before his grin comes back full force.
“Well, I did just move here a couple of weeks ago. So it’s not too high of a bar.”
“Why did you move here?” Shiro wonders aloud.
The splitting shriek of the kettle interrupts Lance’s reply. In one smooth movement, Lance turns off the stove and pours steaming hot water into both mugs before offering the coffee to his guest.
“I just wanted to try and strike it out on my own...I didn’t realize how much I would miss everyone I left behind,” Lance hums lowly.
They drink their coffee together in relative silence after that. Shiro watching with mild concern as Lance half-drowns his in creamer.
“Well...if you ever want company, just let me know,” Shiro says carefully. “I have a couple of friends that live around here that I’m sure would love to hear all about how I am on full moons.” Shiro does not mention that these friends consist of a nosy scientist, said scientist’s genius sister, and a vampire who spends most of his time collecting and caring for knives.
“You don’t have them over during full moons?” Lance asks. “I thought werewolfdom was hereditary. I heard that a lot of werewolves let people spend time with them during their transformations.”
Shiro gestures with his left arm. The skin is scarred and twisted from where he’d grabbed and torn through the flesh during his first transformation since returning from war.
“It is hereditary. I’ve just...never been good at controlling myself during transformations. I’ve never caused anyone harm from what I can tell. I’ve never woken up in blood or anything like that. I just usually end up somewhere deep in the forest. My friend Matt always jokes that it’s because I’m so disciplined when I’m a man instead of a wolf; he says that I need to get my frustrations out somehow. I don’t know why cavorting in the woods seems to be my go-to option.”
Lance laughs at that.
“You do seem like a very tight-laced person. Speaking of tight...sorry about the shirt. You should’ve said something,” Lance uses his mug to point at the straining fabric of Shiro’s top. “I have some other clothes that might fit you better. I’m going to be honest though, I didn’t say anything until now because this is a really nice view.”
“Lance!” Shiro says, the name coming out in an exasperated tone despite the flattery that sets Shiro’s heart pounding.
“I’m kidding! I’m not, but anyway, you didn’t seem so out of control last night,” Lance shrugs. “You just seemed kind of lonely.” He reaches out and scoops up both empty mugs before shuttling them and the egg-crusted dishes away.
Kind of lonely seems to apply to them both, Shiro thinks as he watches Lance’s retreating back. Lance returns with a small sticky-note.
“What’s this?” Shiro asks as he takes the paper.
“My number,” Lance responds. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer of making friends. My best friend is planning to visit but he won’t be here for another couple of weeks.”
Shiro smiles as he pockets the slip. “This is a bit old fashioned don’t you think?”
“You seem like you’d appreciate stuff like that,” Lance winks.
If Shiro’s heart threatens to hop out of his throat with every step away from Lance’s open apartment door, Shiro doesn’t let it show.
***
Lance meshes with the rest of Shiro’s friends famously.
“He acts like a puppy dog?” Pidge shouts gleefully. “We always thought he’d be some big bad wolf like Lupin in Harry Potter or like the cool tough guys in that show Matt watches. What’s it called?”
“Teen Wolf,” Matt supplies helpfully with a smirk. “I also thought that our Shiro here would be fiercer than that.” Matt and Pidge both seem too interested in the mechanics of Shiro’s wolfdom. Keith rolls his eyes as he sucks a blood pack dry.
“We’ve all seen the aftermath of full moons in his apartment,” the vampire says with a shrug of his shoulders.
“That’s true,” Pidge clicks her tongue thoughtfully. “His apartment is in shambles every time we lock him in for the night. He’s probably right to warn us off.”
“But that just makes this more interesting,” Matt chuckles. “If Shiro is usually so fierce...then why wasn’t he this time?”
Shiro finds himself studiously staring anywhere than at Lance’s curious face as the question hangs in the air. Luckily, there is no follow up, and Shiro is spared.
***
It is when Shiro meets Hunk that Shiro understands what Lance misses.
Hunk laughs with a fullness unparalleled by anyone he knows. The man shrieks at the sight of spiders and cannot stomach the horror movie Pidge forces them all to watch, but is a strong and stable presence. Hunk makes the best casserole Shiro has ever tried and has the brains to keep up with both Holts, a feat Shiro always secretly thought was impossible. Shiro sees what Lance sees.
It is clear that Lance misses Hunk tremendously. Around their friends, Lance is always quick to crack jokes and poke whoever looks like they least want to be poked, but around Hunk, Lance blossoms. They speak of home in loud boisterous tones that paint pictures of family and a deep well of memories.
Shiro has only known Lance for a couple of weeks and it shows. Lance is open and frank with his likes and disappointments, but he holds everything else tight in long thin fingers. Hunk allows him to relax. It is when Hunk leaves that Shiro sees Lance cry for the first time.
He pretends he doesn’t notice.
***
The next full moon comes much too quickly. Shiro debates between bolting the door and resigning himself to a night in the woods. His bank statement argues in favor of letting himself run wild so this time, he decides to save himself and his neighbors the trouble by heading out into the local werewolf friendly woods. He runs into a couple of other werewolves preparing for the night. It is unusual to see werewolves unaccompanied during the full moon, but one look at their serious faces and rigid posture tells him that they are there to help stop any violence that might come.
Losing a full night each month is a harrowing experience. You can never really be sure of what you’ve done and the anxiety of that burden is not something Shiro can ever get used to. The people wandering into the woods with him are there to make sure that he doesn’t do something he’ll regret. Shiro is grateful for their presence.
As Shiro moves deeper into the brush, he feels shifting beneath his skin and readies himself as the full moon peeks out from behind the heavy shadow of clouds. A deep breath and then nothing.
***
Shiro blinks away grogginess and mucus as he tries to shield his eyes from the sunlight that pours in from the open window. His nose twitches as he hears a door open.
Bacon.
“You know, if you wanted to come over, you could’ve just said so,” Lance laughs.
“What happened?” Shiro asks. Lance shrugs and nods at the pile of clothes he’s left for Shiro at the end of the bed.
“Same thing as last time, but you were courteous enough to come at half past midnight instead of ass o’clock,” Lance says as Shiro reaches out to pick up and examine the shirt Lance offered him. It looks to be about the same size as the last shirt he was offered. Lance grins innocently when Shiro shoots him a suspicious look before laughing as he disappears down the hall. “I made breakfast and was just about to wake you up. Good timing,” he calls over his shoulder.
Lance’s footsteps fade and Shiro pushes back the blankets to begin changing. After he manages to wriggle into the shirt he’d been offered, Shiro takes a deep breath to test the restriction. The fabric is thin and breathable. Small mercies.
Without the pressing anxiety of not knowing where he is, Shiro takes a moment to look at the decorations in Lance’s room. Like the bathroom, his bedroom is beach themed. On the walls are family photos framed with aged shells glued clumsily onto pieces of distressed wood.
The first three photos are packed with people. He picks Lance out from a crowd of young and soaked children who are impatiently waiting for the photo to be taken as waves crash against their backs. The next photo shows Lance leaning heavily against a long table. His spindly arms support his curved back as he hovers close to the baby clapping cake-covered hands together, a sibling or cousin at his elbow. Lance’s face is long and thin despite his youth. Even with the poor quality of the photo, his blue eyes are impossible to ignore as they radiate with the rest of the environment. Blue walls, the sea visible out the window, the sky, and even the table cloth. All of them are varying shades that compliment white curtains and warm dark skin.
The next photo is of a Lance that Shiro can practically hear, cracking voice and all. He stands with an awkwardness only teenagers can embody in full as he squints at the camera with his mouth hanging open. To Lance’s right, An older woman with crows’ feet and a wide smile has an arm slung around his shoulders. To his left, there is a tall bespectacled man with eyes that match his son’s. The rest of their family crowds around them as they all point joyously at Lance’s diploma. Lance’s shoulders are laden with leis and stray confetti hangs frozen in the air.
Last in the line of photos is Lance alone. He is knee deep in the surf as he grins at the camera over his shoulder. His hands are raised up toward the sky as the sun beats down on his naked shoulders.
“My sister took that.”
Shiro starts, whirling around to face the door.
“It’s nice,” he says lamely. Lance laughs and walks further into the room to stand next to Shiro and examine the pictures himself.
“That was at our family reunion,” Lance says. He points to the first photo before gesturing to the second. “My younger sister Sofia’s birthday. She wasn’t even old enough to understand what was happening but I remember that cake was so good.” Lance cringes at the third one. “I actually hate this picture. My parents love it because they look nice, but I look like I’m trying to catch flies or something.”
Shiro smiles as Lance moves onto the final frame.
“My older sister, Lucia, snapped that picture of me the day before I moved here. She was running around like a chicken with its head chopped off trying to get all of this ready for me.” Lance’s face beams as he turns to look at Shiro. “She dug up all of the old frames we made when we were kids, I’m one of four, and stuck these in them.” He pauses, one hand reaching out to rest fingertips on the shells that cut a haphazard silhouette.
“Your family sounds wonderful, Lance,” Shiro murmurs. The air feels bright and clear as Lance laughs fondly.
“They’re actually the worst...but I love them.”
The rest of the morning passes peacefully. Breakfast has cooled on the table during their talk and Lance looks crestfallen before Shiro takes a spoon and shovels the bacon and accompanying eggs into his mouth.
Although he apologizes for the imposition, Shiro cannot help but hope that every morning after the full moon will be as pleasant as the past two.
***
The next five months fly by. Lance has firmly embedded himself into Shiro’s friend circle and they receive the news that Hunk has been offered a job at the same laboratory that employs Matt and his father. He’s set to move to their small city at the end of the year.
Lance moved into his apartment during the summer. It’s getting colder now, but still, Shiro makes his way to the werewolf woods near his home. As he walks, leaves crunching beneath his feet and breath fogging the air, Shiro rolls over the same thought in his head.
I love Lance. I love his stupid jokes and I love how he cooks the same thing every time because he can’t actually cook. I love him.
Shiro has had his suspicions for a while. The relentless teasing from their friends playing no small part in his long-awaited realization as Shiro and Lance spent more time together. Every morning after the full moon was now an occasion to look forward too and felt special in a way Shiro never dared to hope for. Whatever called to Shiro on that first night hasn’t let up since. He learned quickly and left clothes at Lance’s place. If he neglected to pack any shirts, well, Lance didn’t have to know it was on purpose.
For his part, Lance is always ready to have Shiro over and often brags about their special breakfast dates. Eating bacon the morning after the full moon has practically become tradition and Shiro couldn’t be more pleased to cheat on his diet. Shiro nearly salivates at the thought of salty breakfast foods and the comfort of Lance’s small abode. With that final thought, he settles in the corner of the woods nearest Lance’s apartment, in no way deluded into thinking he won’t end up there. As silver light begins to speckle his skin through the trees, Shiro prepares to transform.
***
When Shiro blinks, his gaze is much lower than he’s used to and it’s still dark all around him.
I’m conscious, he realizes suddenly. He raises a foot curiously and feels the dirt beneath the pads of his paws. Fabric slides off of his fur and Shiro mentally salutes the now destroyed t-shirt and shorts he’d had since he first started varsity football in high school. Feeling the muscles ripple beneath his skin, Shiro takes off toward his destination.
Despite not being used to this, Shiro feels completely at home as his body moves swiftly through lamp-lit streets and up the outer stairs to Lance’s floor. When he arrives at Lance’s front door, Shiro snuffles and paws gently at the already damaged wood. The door swings open almost immediately to reveal Lance. The man is wearing a green face mask, a robe, and a matching set of slippers.
“Shiro! You got here really fast,” Lance says. He opens the door wider for Shiro to come inside before shutting it. Shiro stares at everything from the new angle and finds that it is incredibly inconvenient to have to crane his neck to see properly. As Lance wanders down the hallway and into the bathroom, Shiro pads along at his heels, tail wagging despite Shiro’s attempts to stop it.
So naturally, Shiro glares at his tail and lets out a displeased huff.
Lance laughs as he washes off the face mask and pats his skin dry. “Hey, you be nice to your tail.” The man leans down to pet and scratch Shiro’s head before walking past his furry hide and into his bedroom. Shiro pauses in the doorway as Lance turns off the light and settles into bed with a portable console in hand. “Aren’t you going to come lay with me?” Lance asks. “Don’t tell me you’re getting shy now.”
While all of this is new to him, Shiro reminds himself that this is all routine to Lance. Lance doesn’t know that Shiro is conscious, and Shiro doesn’t know how to tell him.
“You’re being a bit more standoffish than usual, Shiro,” Lance pouts. His hands pats the top of the comforter absentmindedly before he turns back to his game.
After a moment of thought, Shiro trots forward before setting back on his heels and springing upward onto the bed. The sheets are as soft and warm as always. He treads three circles before plopping down and letting out a soft whine. It almost feels like he’s intruding here. Although they have spent many mornings together, Shiro has never spent the night with Lance before. So he does the only thing he can do. He shuffles up the bed and lays his head on Lance’s arm. The man reaches over with the opposite hand and pats his head.
“You know, I don’t think you’re really being standoffish. You’re really just acting a bit more like your normal self than usual,” Lance murmurs thoughtfully. The mechanical sound of a sword swinging and metal clangs from the small speakers on the old handheld system. “Or maybe I’m just projecting. Sometimes I wish you could remember what happens on full moons, but then I remember all of the embarrassing shit I’ve told you over the past few months and I realize that this is for the better.” Lance continues to play as he speaks again. “You know, I know it’s stupid, but you’ve helped me so much. I can’t help but hope that these nights are special to you too.”
Shiro can’t say anything despite the burning desire to do so. Somehow, Lance seems different at night. The blue-eyed man appears almost reserved, but more open and candid with his emotions. An unpleasant noise sounds from Lance’s video game. Lance restarts the console and pats Shiro’s fur as he waits for the game to reboot.
“I feel a lot better being here now. I still miss my family, sure, but I can’t tell you how much you’ve done for me,” Lance hums, talking absentmindedly as he tries to finish the map he’s on. The screen casts a white light on Lance’s face and Shiro cannot help himself when he shuffles closer and licks Lance’s cheek. Lance laughs and gives him a kiss on the top of the head. If Shiro weren’t covered in fur, he would be bright red. “I know I’ve told you this before, but having you here makes me feel at home and safe. Who would’ve thought that werewolves could double as space heaters and therapists. Maybe I should adopt a dog when you stop coming back.”
The way Lance speaks punches Shiro in the gut. Lance looks almost heartbroken at the thought of Shiro leaving him and Shiro wishes more than anything that he could tell Lance that their mornings spent together have helped his anxiety immensely. He wants to tell Lance that he used to have nightmares of waking up in pools of blood but now looks forward to the full moon. He wants to thank Lance for giving him a safe place to return to. Shiro wants to tell Lance that the loneliness Lance felt when he first moved and still feels when he thinks of his family just shows that Lance loves deeply and fully.
“You, well, human you, make me feel like I’m someone worth caring about. God I sound like a sap,” Lance scoffs. “I’m a coward huh? I can talk about how great you are to your face but only when you can’t remember the next day.” The sound of defeat echoes from Lance’s speakers. “Ugh, I hate this level. Whatever,” Lance groans. He snuggles deeper beneath the blanket and lifts it so that the blanket shifts beneath Shiro’s stomach. “C’mon, Shiro.” Shiro hesitates as Lance shakes the blanket. “I know it’s hot while you’re in wolf form but you’ll thank me in the morning. You prefer to be covered when you turn back. Now c’mon!” Lance says cajolingly. He whistles as he pats the mattress.
It is more by instinct than by choice that Shiro joins him beneath the blankets. After a moment, Shiro relaxes and allows himself to indulge by cuddling closer against Lance.
“There you go, buddy,” Lance yawns before giving Shiro a sleepy smile as his voice turns husky. “I know you don’t understand it, but I love you. Thank you for helping me sleep at night.” Blue eyes slide shut and Shiro freezes where he lays as Lance’s words settle into his consciousness.
As the full moon shines in from the window, Shiro cuddles closer to Lance and rests his snout in the crook of Lance’s neck. Thin arms wrap around his neck loosely as Lance lets out a loud snore.
Goodnight, Lance.
***
When Shiro wakes, Lance is still asleep at his side. This is the first time Shiro has awoken before Lance. And it is when the sun kisses Lance’s cheeks that Shiro realizes that Lance slept with him in the same bed. Shiro flushes hotly and moves to get out of bed and into the clothes he knows are stashed in the closet when he realizes that his arms are wound around Lance’s abdomen and that their legs are twisted together. Despite his nakedness, Shiro has never felt more content in his life.
So he nuzzles closer to Lance and watches as the movement causes the man to stir.
“Good morning,” Shiro whispers. His voice is hoarse and heavy with sleep as he summons all of his courage and gives Lance a kiss on the cheek. Lance freezes, eyes snapping open as he turns to look at Shiro in full.
“You just kissed me,” Lance gasps.
“On the cheek,” Shiro says hurriedly.
“No! You just kissed me and there are no take backs here!” Lance insists before giving Shiro’s cheek a kiss of his own. “You can’t take back kisses, Shiro! That’s rude! And it is especially rude to try and take back kisses from men as kind as me who feed you, clothe you, shelter and lo--”
Shiro dives forward and cuts Lance off with a firm kiss to the lips. When he pulls back, Lance’s eyes have fluttered closed and the man naturally tries to follow just as Shiro leans back in for another.
“You just kissed me,” Lance smiles.
“Twice,” Shiro amends.
“Can I have another?” Lance asks cheekily as he moves in once more.
“You can have as many as you’d like,” Shiro replies as he showers Lance’s face with kiss after kiss on Lance’s cheeks, his nose, his forehead, and his lips. After a moment, Shiro rises up on his hands and knees to hover over Lance. “You know, I am still a fierce werewolf. You never know,” Shiro says with a faux-serious expression. “I could be dangerous.”
“Oh no!” Lance laughs in mock-fear. “Whatever will I do? I don’t want to be bitten.” Lance lays his hand against his forehead and arches his neck. “I am just a vulnerable man, please don’t bite me, oh dangerous wolf.”
“You are not safe from me!” Shiro declares as he nibbles Lance’s soft skin. Each love bite grows deeper as Shiro latches onto Lance’s neck and carves shallow indents with his teeth and plants the seeds of bruises with his tongue. He sucks red spots into Lance’s neck as the man lets out soft pleased sighs. Finally happy with his handiwork, Shiro pulls away to examine the marks he’d left. With a satisfied nod, Shiro pulls Lance closer and buries his nose into Lance’s neck.
“You kissed me,” Lance says again. His hands come up to wrap around Shiro’s back and run over his muscles. “Why did you kiss me?”
“Because you said that you love me and I love you.”
“...I never told you that I loved you.”
“Yes you did,” Shiro grins. “Last night.” Lance looks at him with wide eye and apparent embarrassment.
“Oh my god I’ve told you so much terrible stuff. You have so much blackmail,” Lance moans miserably. Then, suddenly, a hand smacks against Shiro’s bicep. “You said you didn’t remember!”
“I didn’t! Last night was the first time I’d ever been conscious during the full moon and I couldn’t tell you that it was me,” Shiro says frankly. “I’ve never been able to control myself during the full moon before.”
“But you still came to me,” Lance whispers. Shiro lays a soft kiss to Lance’s lips.
“I’ll always come to you.”
***
“Oh my god are those hickies?” Pidge shrieks.
“Finally,” Keith mutters as Matt leans far too close to Lance’s neck for Shiro’s liking.
“Yes they are!” Lance says proudly.
“So I definitely called this,” Matt says smugly.
“No, Hunk definitely called it before any of us did,” Pidge laughs. “He’s such an old biddy when it comes to gossip. He wouldn’t shut up about how Lance may as well have a shrine for Shiro in his closet.”
Lance’s face loses all of its color as Shiro wraps a supportive arm around his waist.
“Please tell me you didn’t hear that,” Lance says awkwardly. Shiro shoots him a placating smile.
“Sorry, Lance. I heard it all.”
“Awesome.”