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Lightning in your Eyes
Vincent studies the collection of sleeping bodies that have accumulated in their yard.
This isn't how he expected his life to go.
Not that he had serious expectations for his future. He was going to get a degree, and then he was going to... well... he hadn't quite sorted that out. He could be a professional biologist in Michigan. There were quite a few colleges with agricultural bents, and there was the DNR, and it was entirely possible he would manage to stay close enough to help his family while still pursuing his dreams.
Possible, but not likely. Really making it as a professional biologist usually required being willing to move long distances and accept shit pay, at least for a few years. Would he be able to leave his family to manage that?
Would he be able to leave his pack now?
Because he is a part of this pack. He can feel it. He's not sure if it's an actual magical connection or if it's just the intensity of shared experience and affection, but his sister is the alpha and he belongs here in a way that feels... right.
That feels natural.
That feels good, comfortable and protective without being stifling.
He wouldn't have imagined that was possible a few months ago, when a strange werewolf kidnapped him off the street and tied him up with the worst possible craft project he'd ever seen.
Now that werewolf is sleeping on the lawn with his sister.
Now there are eight werewolves sleeping on the lawn, as well as two humans, and—
Wait, no. There are only seven werewolves where he can see them, though Vincent was certain all the others were asleep by now, the full moon's strength having already started to wane. Who's missing? Which furry head—
Hands that are half-paws come around to block his eyes. The man is careful not to crowd too close to Vincent, not even touching his back, making it clear that Vincent can escape if he wants to. “Guess who?”
Vincent can feel heat rush to his cheeks. “Oh, I don't know. You're furry enough to be Tim.”
“Ha ha.” Warm breath brushes the back of his neck. “I'm not Tim.”
“Mmm, no you're not.” The words slip out before Vincent has a chance to consider all their connotations. In his defense he's been up all night trying and failing to keep up with a bunch of moon-high werewolves.
(It should have been more frustrating than it was. He hates being helpless and out of control and left behind. His physical scars are more obvious, his sister's emotional scars deeper and more raw than his own, but they share a lot of the same ticks and tribulations anyway. Running with the wolves on the full moon though... it hadn't been terrible. It had been wonderful. It had been like the forest and the sky and the pack itself drew him into something full and wondrous and magical, and he knows he will yearn to taste it again in the days that will pass before the next full moon. If his parents were younger—if it weren't so weird to imagine them out here in this tangle of limbs and joy—he would tell them to skip the board games and join them next month.)
The fuzzy hands have slipped around Vincent's chest, holding him in a loose embrace. “You're being very quiet, even for you.”
“I'm thinking very deep thoughts.”
Eli laughs, a rumble that Vincent more feels than hears. “I believe that, you know? Even though the full moon tends to be more about feeling than thinking, I believe you're having deep thoughts.”
A nose nuzzles up against Vincent's neck and he stops breathing, air hitching to a standstill in his throat. The nose isn't quite human, but it's also not quite wolf. It's cold, though, and the touch against his skin feels... well, it feels right, just like the rest of the night has felt right.
Abruptly the arms around his chest are gone, and Vincent turns to study Eli, a strange, aching emptiness in his chest. “What is it?”
For a moment Eli stays in his partial-wolf form, his fingers hooked claws, a light coating of fur on his hands and wrists, pretty tufts on his pointed ears. Then he shifts back to all human, rubbing at his nose.
Vincent narrows his eyes.
Eli looks away from him, shrugging. “Nothing. Just the end of the full moon. Nothing... nothing else.”
Vincent takes a step closer to Eli, stepping into the other man's personal space. “Nothing?”
Eli tries to look around him, something like panic in his eyes.
Vincent just stares at Eli, waiting for him to answer. He's very good at being still and patient, and Eli historically is not.
Eli cracks first, his gaze flicking repeatedly to Vincent's eyes before darting away. “You... liked that. A lot.”
Vincent can feel his eyebrows drawing together as he tries to sort through the implications of those words. “Your... nuzzling?”
Eli nods, his cheeks flushed dark in the ambient light coming from the porch. “My touch. My sniffing. And I... liked that you liked it. A little more than I should have.”
Vincent tilts his head, once more working through the implications before feeling his eyes widen in realization. “Oh. I. Uh.”
“Sorry, man. Didn't want to make it awkward, but...” Eli shrugs. “You wanted to know?”
“I did.” Vincent studies Eli's face—his lips, his bright, kind eyes, the nervous way he's fiddling with his sideburns.
Then he steps forward, pressing his lips to Eli's in a fierce, firm kiss.
It's not the first time he's kissed someone. Or... at least not the first time he's been involved in a kiss. Thinking back on the two times he's kissed other people, he didn't initiate either of them. Both girls had taken advantage of a moment that Vincent had thought meant good friendship to try for something more. He didn't hold it against them, but he hadn't been interested in pursuing anything in either case.
This... does he want to pursue this? He's been thinking hard about this since Malaya asked him if he's into guys. He's come to the conclusion that he's not not into guys. He's as into guys as he's been into anyone else, which has historically been a 'not really at all' kind of situation.
Maybe he just needed to be kissing a werewolf while sleep deprived and under the effects of some kind of weird full-moon pack-magic spell.
Or maybe he's somewhere on the asexual spectrum, as his internet reading indicated.
Probably demisexual, because he is really enjoying this kiss. And the way that Eli's hands are on him again, and—
And his feet are no longer on the ground.
There's a moment of almost-panic, an instinctual reaction of not again followed by a realization that he's safe. He is in Eli's arms, and Eli won't allow any harm to come to him.
Once the panic has passed there's a visceral thrill in being carried at such a fast pace, the wind threading through his hair, the stark shadows of the forest at night flying by too quickly for his human eyes to really parse.
Then Eli is setting him down, and as soon as Vincent's feet are on the ground Eli's lips are on his again. The kiss is strong, Eli's tongue running over Vincent's teeth, Eli's fingers burying themselves in Vincent's hair. Vincent can feel fur growing and fading around Eli's mouth as the kiss continues.
When Vincent takes a step back, though, Eli doesn't try to stop him. He just watches him, eyes bright—eyes reflecting what light there is, and also shining with that power that werewolves have.
Then Eli blinks, and he's just himself again—just a gangly, friendly, happy man who reaches out to help those who need it, whether he knows them or not. “Sorry. Should have asked before I—sorry. I just thought... maybe... we wouldn't want to wake the others?”
Vincent blinks, and then laughs. It's a soft, quiet sound that the forest quickly wraps up, holding their secrets in its leaves. “Yeah, this will be awkward enough explaining to anyone without them waking up to see it first hand.”
Eli raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck. “I can take you back. We don't have to—”
Vincent steps forward to kiss Eli again, and this time it is Vincent's tongue that invades Eli's mouth, Vincent's hands that move daringly down to Eli's chest. He's never done this before. He's never wanted to do this before, but he wants to do it now. He wants to touch Eli's skin. He wants to feel the smooth—no, now the furred muscles, and it's easy to do with how threadbare Eli's shirt is after a night of werewolf antics.
Deciding to be daring, Vincent grabs holds of one of the bigger rips in the fabric and pulls. The rest of the shirt gives way, falling open, exposing Eli's chest and glorious body beneath.
Eli's fingers fumble at Vincent's shirt, Eli's hands sliding from claws to fingers and back to claws. “Can I?”
Vincent hesitates, then reaches down and just removes his shirt himself in one swoop. “Less dramatic but easier on the shirt. Yours was already a goner.”
“True.” Eli's reply is a breath against Vincent's neck as Eli draws him closer. Eli's fingers slide across Vincent's body, tracing shivering lines from Vincent's neck down to the edge of his jeans. Once, twice... and then they stop, Eli's fingers hovering over the scars that Malaya gave Vincent so long ago.
Vincent pauses, too. “They bother you?”
Eli shakes his head. “Just... considering. This means you'll never be a werewolf.”
Vincent frowns. “No, but that doesn't matter, right? I'm still part of your pack.”
“You are, and I... oh, man, I have had the biggest, most useless crush on you for the longest time. But still...” Eli's face elongates, human giving way to wolf muzzle before going back to human. “You don't mind that? It doesn't bother you?”
Vincent reaches out to cup Eli's cheek with his right hand, his left pressing Eli's fingers against the scars on his side. “It doesn't bother me. I actually think it's pretty hot. If it, you know... is something you'd be interested in... something feasible...”
Eli's expression just remains hopeless confusion.
Vincent presses himself a little closer to Eli, the movement more daring than he would usually be. This is the time to be daring, though, right? His sister is daring to take on being head of a werewolf pack. Ginger and the rest of the rescued kids are daring to create a new life for themselves, a life where they actually have control. Why shouldn't Vincent do this—claim Eli for his own?
Eli gathers him in close, and Vincent feels his feet leave the ground. He's not sure Eli even notices, Eli's breath warm against his chest.
“I'd like to be with you.” Would he? Vincent's skin seems to burn where he presses against Eli, a heat that pools in his guts and spreads downward, and yes, he's pretty certain he would. “Human, wolf, in between, I don't care. You're Eli, and I want to be with you.”
“Oh man.” Eli laughs, a choked, shivery sound. “You don't do anything halfway, do you? From 'I don't know if I like guys romantically' to 'I will fuck you in your wolf form' without much in between.” Eli freezes, probably realizing exactly what he's just said. He releases his hold on Vincent, and when he pulls back his face is scarlet even in the moonlight, his fur growing in to hide his sheepish expression. “Ah—I mean—”
“Would you want to?” Vincent tries to keep his expression neutral, but he's certain he doesn't completely hide his smile. “I mean—is that a thing that could happen?”
Eli makes a soft whining noise that seems more eager than nervous. “I have no idea but I'm happy to experiment with finding out.”
Vincent reaches out, settling his hands firmly on Eli's chest, stroking softly over the skin. “All of it would be an experiment for me. I've never really, ah...” There it is. There's the embarrassment he probably should have felt earlier. It just took it a while to catch up to the fact that this is real, that this isn't a dream or some weird moon-fantasy from running in the pack. This is Eli, standing half-naked before him, their breaths mingling in a warm cloud.
This is Eli, and Vincent is busy propositioning him.
Which... well, Vincent very much wants this to continue, and the best way to continue it is to keep going. So he buries his fingers in Eli's hair and pulls him into another kiss.
When they break apart this time, Eli lowers his head to Vincent's shoulder, nuzzling at the skin there. He says something that Vincent can't understand.
“Come again?” Vincent continues to run his fingers through Eli's hair, feeling the shift in texture as Eli's wolf continues to bubble at the surface.
“I want to bite you.” The words shiver, raw desire and intention. Vincent can hear Eli swallow. “It's silly but I want to bite you.”
“Oh... kay.” Vincent blinks, considering the idea. “Will it hurt a lot?”
“No. I don't want it to, at least.” One of Eli's hands begins teasing over the small of Vincent's back.
Vincent gasps in a breath, pressing closer to Eli. He likes this. He likes this a lot, and it makes it hard to think straight. “Is it dangerous? Could it, like... get infected? Or will there be problems with your magic and my... vaccination?”
“I don't think it's dangerous, I don't intend to make a serious enough bite for normal infection to be a worry, and I don't think it'll interact with your vaccination?” Eli rubs at one slightly furry, pointed ear.
“Is this...” Vincent experimentally arches his body against Eli's. Yes, that feels very good, and the look of somehow blissful panic it brings to Eli's face makes it better. “A werewolf thing? Wanting to bite me.”
“It's a me thing.” Now it's Eli's turn to arch against Vincent, his sweatpants bunching against Vincent's jeans. “Read too many werewolf romance books at a formative age. Normally I wouldn't be able to bite a date who's not a werewolf because I don't really want to make someone into a werewolf unintentionally but since it's you—if you wanted to be a werewolf and you weren't vaccinated I would bite you in a heartbeat, but since you can't be changed—”
Vincent captures Eli's mouth in a kiss. It's a long, deep exploration of Eli's mouth, and when he comes up for breath he just says, “Bite me.”
Eli freezes, then stutters out a breath against Vincent's chest. His lips explore Vincent's shoulder, slide down to his collarbone, trail up to Vincent's neck. Then he nuzzles the skin just above Vincent's collarbone again, and—
Oh.
Well.
It hurts, a bit. It's the sharp, smooth cut of a knife rather than the angry pecks he's used to or the piercing bludgeoning of teeth he's gotten from small rodents while out working.
But more than the pain he feels... power. Tingling, burning white power, like what he sees leaking from his sister's eyes when she's acting as alpha. It fizzes in his skin, in his blood, in his bones, and he wants to welcome it fully, to feel it take root, but he can't.
The tingling fades slowly, and Vincent finds himself leaning against Eli, his limbs a boneless splay around Eli's form. Eli's arms are holding him up, Eli's tongue lapping gently against the bite.
“That was...” Vincent forces his legs to hold his own weight again. “You can do that again. Anytime you want.”
Eli gives a little snort of laughter, his nose pressing one final time at Vincent's shoulder. “It's healed, but it left a mark. Not sure how many of those you want.”
“If it feels like that?” Vincent cups Eli's head in his hands. “I'll have to think about it, but the answer is probably going to be 'quite a few'. Now kiss me again.”
Eli doesn't hesitate to listen, which is a thrill of its own.
When they come up for air again, Vincent asks, “So are we dating now?”
Eli sputters, and there's just the faintest trace of red on his lips.
Vincent kisses the red spot, but if it's his blood, it's too dilute to taste like it anymore.
“Ah...” Eli rocks back onto his heels, then presses forward into Vincent again. “Yes? I think so. If you want to. I'd like this to more than just... moonstruck werewolf stuff?”
“I like the moonstruck werewolf stuff.” Vincent presses his whole body against Eli again, because it's very true. “Your bite was like taking the lightning in your eyes and making it fire in my veins.”
Eli's eyes are wide and shining, his gaze fixed on Vincent as though Vincent were the sun in the sky.
“But I'd like to try just regular dating too.” Vincent slips his arms around Eli so that they meet at the small of Eli's back. “Going for a movie. Going shopping more. Exploring the forest looking for endangered species' nests. That kind of thing.”
Eli laughs, nuzzling at Vincent's neck once more. “I think we can do all of that. Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. This isn't a gift. I'm—” Vincent catches his breath as Eli's teeth score lightly against his skin. “Enjoying this far too much for it to be any sort of gift.”
“It's a dance.” The words are a warm breeze against Vincent's neck as Eli continues his gentle nuzzling. “A dance we're learning the steps to together.”
“And even when we look ridiculous, as most birds with mating dances do, we'll at least be doing it together. Eli—” Vincent's words disappear in a gasp of pleasure.
At some point the stars begin to disappear, fading into the greyness of dawn. Vincent's not sure if they actually slept or if they just spent the night tangled together, exploring this new bond they're creating between themselves.
He's not sure it matters, because he's dating a man made of kindness and lightning and ridiculous decisions.
Little things like a normal sleep schedule are something he's more than willing to sacrifice to make that happen.