Chapter Text
Anthony drove slowly up the long, familiar driveway to his house, shoulders sagging with the kind of tiredness that settled deep in his bones. He let out a low grunt as he shifted the car into park, the engine ticking softly as it cooled. Pushing open the door, he swung his legs out and stood, taking extra care as always to sweep his tail out of the way before closing it. He had caught it a few times before, and the sting was something he wasn’t eager to relive.
As he made his way toward the front door, his tail dragged lazily behind him, the dark fur brushing against the concrete steps. His fluffy black ears drooped against his head, reflecting the exhaustion of his long day. He slid the key into the lock and stepped inside, and immediately the warmth of the house enveloped him like a soft blanket. The sudden coziness caught him off guard, and his tail gave a small, involuntary wag of appreciation.
In the living room, Ian lay fast asleep on the sofa, curled up in a tight bundle of comfort. His large bunny ears had flopped over his head, one of them twitching occasionally as he dreamed. The sight made Anthony chuckle quietly under his breath; Ian always managed to look impossibly soft and peaceful when he slept.
Still smiling, Anthony padded into the kitchen, placing his keys down on the counter with a soft clink, the gentle domestic silence of the house settling around him.
Anthony set his phone on the charger atop the counter, watching the screen blink to life for a moment before dimming again. Only then did he realize he was still wearing his shoes and coat. habit from a long day. With a quiet sigh, he padded back to the entryway, toeing off his shoes and shrugging out of his coat, hanging it neatly on the hook by the door. His tail swished once as the fabric slid off his shoulders, relieved to finally be free of the weight.
He wandered back into the kitchen, the soft hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the warm, dim room. Grabbing a glass, he poured himself a drink, the cool liquid splashing lightly against the sides. He took a slow sip, letting the warmth of home settle deeper into him.
Glass in hand, Anthony made his way into the living room where Ian still slept soundly on the sofa. The bunny, still curled up with his long ears draped over his face like a blanket. Anthony paused in the doorway for a moment, taking in the peaceful scene before stepping quietly closer.
Anthony sat down carefully, trying not to draw any attention to himself. The chair creaked under him, and he winced, instinctively shrinking a little as if the sound alone could expose him. He pulled out his phone, to scroll through it, taking slow sips of his drink in an attempt to unwind. All he wanted was a moment of peace—just a minute to breathe.
But his eyes kept drifting.
No matter how much he willed himself to focus on the glowing screen, they slid back to Ian. And God, Ian looked… cute. Unfairly cute. The kind of cute that tugged at something deep inside Anthony, something warm and dangerous at the same time. Anthony found himself staring longer than he meant to, watching the way Ian’s hair fell slightly into his eyes, the little things Anthony knew he shouldn’t notice but always did.
His gaze lingered. Too long. Long enough for the familiar, buried feeling to stir in his chest.
Then it hit him… that hunger. The one he thought he’d buried years ago, locked behind discipline and self-control. It rose up sharp and sudden, curling in his belly like a spark catching dry grass. His wolf stirred, crawling trying to escape, and for a split second Anthony saw Ian not as the person he cared about but as something else… something tempting. Something mouthwatering. Prey.
Anthony clenched his jaw.
No. No, he refused to see Ian that way. He had promised himself.. sworn to himself.. that he would never let those instincts touch the way he saw Ian. But instinct didn’t care about promises.
He tore his eyes away, forcing himself to look at anything else the wall, the floor, the condensation on his cup. He inhaled deeply through his nose, then exhaled slowly, grounding himself, fighting the pull of the wolf rising beneath his skin.
Just breathe. Don’t look at him. Don’t let it happen.
Anthony gripped his drink a little too tight, steadying himself as the instinct faded, inch by inch.
Anthony kept his gaze planted firmly on the table, but it didn’t help. Not really. His ears, twitchy, sensitive wolf ears betrayed him, angling subtly toward every sound Ian made. The soft rustle when Ian adjusted his seat. The tiny, breathy hum he let out while thinking. Even the faint tap of Ian’s heel against the floor sent a shiver down Anthony’s spine.
And then the scent hit him.
It drifted over like a warm breeze light, sweet, unmistakable. Ian always had that bunny scent about him, soft and subtle, comforting on any normal day… but right now, when Anthony was already fighting his instincts, it was too much. Overstimulating. His wolf tail stiffened before he could stop it, the fur bristling
He swallowed hard.
“Focus,” he whispered under his breath, bringing his drink to his lips again even though it was practically empty. He needed something anything to ground himself, to wash out that scent that was making his pulse spike. But no matter how desperately he tried to ignore it, Ian’s scent curled through the air and wrapped around him like a soft ribbon, tugging at instincts he hated feeling.
Anthony’s fingers curled against his knee, nails digging into the fabric of his jeans. The pressure hurt, but that was the point. Pain was grounding. Pain reminded him he was in control.
But his wolf ears kept tilting forward. His tail twitched again. And he could feel the instinct, that predatory, ancient part of himself, prowling closer to the surface.
He risked a glance.
ian was sound asleep, completely unaware of the storm brewing in Anthony’s chest. His soft tail twitched once when he shifted, and Anthony had to suck in a breath so sharp his chest ached.
God. Not now. Not around him.
Anthony squeezed his eyes shut. “You’re fine. You’re fine. He’s just Ian.” He tried to regulate his breathing slow inhale, slow exhale but every inhale was full of Ian’s scent, and every exhale felt like he was losing another inch of control.
The wolf in him nudged against the edges of his mind, whispering, urging, wanting. It was instinct, primal and stupid, and Anthony hated it. hated that it tried to twist something warm and fond into something feral.
He forced his eyes open again, focusing on the condensation trailing down his cup, tracing each drop with almost desperate intensity.
Just relax. Don’t look at him. Don’t scent him. Don’t—
A soft voice broke through the haze.
“Anthony! oh your home!”
Anthony froze.
Ian’s voice. Close. Concerned. And with it—another wave of that soft, sweet scent.
Anthony’s wolf ears flattened instantly, tail curling tight around his leg like he could hide it.
“yeah sorry.. didn’t want to wake you,” he said quickly, too quickly. His voice came out strained, rough around the edges.
He didn’t look up. Couldn’t. If he met Ian’s eyes right now, he wasn’t confident what expression might slip through.
He held his breath for a moment, hoping praying that Ian wouldn’t get any closer.
Because if he did… Anthony wasn’t sure how long his control would hold.