Work Text:
***
“You know, it’ll get better! It always does. We just need some time to adjust…” Tara’s voice echoed dully through my skull. I was barely listening to the phone call at that point. My head was buzzing after the whole day of working in the field. Besides, our conversation began to resemble a thin ribbon of smoke trembling in the wind. It failed miserably in taking on any concise shape or direction.
But Tara kept talking. Because I needed it. Silence would’ve devoured me before I even got to my doorstep.
“They always move people around in the worst times possible. Simone told me that it is also a mess in their division. So, we’re not special!” Today’s chaotic field work was carouselling before my eyes. The fluctuations were violent; wanderers were reappearing stronger before we could deal with previous ones; protofields were growing, merging, and collapsing, like damn bubbles. It was impossible to track anything or to find anyone to rotate with… We were short-staffed and unprepared, and though we eventually succeeded and cleared that area, I could not shake off the pressing guilt from my shoulders.
People got hurt. People got killed. And none of us Hunters prevented it.
“...But at the end of the day it was total havoc out there. I mean, didn’t we claim that area to be troublesome ages ago? HQs should’ve issued a no-hunt zone limitation and just call it a day…” I sensed the frustration slowly taking over Tara’s bright voice. I could absolutely double that.
“Yeah. But there’s nothing we can do about it right now.” My jaw refused to cooperate, and half of the words came out slurred and muffled. I was steps away from my apartment, dragging my work bag behind me. Almost there…
“You sound super tired… Please get some rest! We’ll figure everything out tomorrow, ‘kay?” At that, Tara hung up. For a moment I just stood there, blinking at my phone screen.
I clumsily rubbed my eye and pressed my thumb into the door lock. Soft light from the anteroom surged through the darkness of the corridor and spilled on my dirty shoes. I took a step into my house and froze in place.
Something was off. My nose picked it up before my eyes could.
Oak. And something bitter, like… Metal.
My eyes finally spotted a gray variegated jacket on the couch. Along with a wide-open balcony door.
I pressed a cool palm to my eyes and sighed as my lips betrayed me with a smile. I dragged my hand across the face as I took a couple more steps into my apartment. And there he was…
In my kitchen. Wearing my apron. Listening to my music through my headphones. Unbelievable.
As if on command, Valko straightened up and turned his head in my direction. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed his bulky shoulders rise and tighten, as if he gulped all the air his lungs could fit and wouldn’t let go. In one fluid motion, my headphones were back on the counter, like nothing happened.
I shifted on my feet and folded my arms across the chest, trying to look intimidating. Gilded eyes swiftly scanned me from head to toe. He raised one brow. Clearly, I did not look even slightly disheartening. My hair was a mess, my uniform was ripped and covered in mud, and the damn work bag was distinctly dragging me to the floor.
Valko flashed me with a dumb grin, showing off two pairs of fangs, crossed the room in a couple of rushed steps, and took the bag from my hands. Another wave of exhaustion immediately sabotaged the physical relief.
“How’s work, pup?” His voice reverberated in my very bones.
I snorted and ignored his question, peeking at the whole revolution in my kitchen. “Don’t call me that.” Suddenly, a flock of maroon fluff had obscured my vision.
I slowly lifted my gaze back to the sunny irises and side-eyed him. Somehow, Valko’s grin became even more cocky. His ears were up. “What should I call you then?”
His tail almost slammed into my side, passing mere inches from my forearm. I felt the tickle of the fur. What a prick…
“What are you doing here, Valko?” I wasn’t even trying to answer his question, but he didn’t seem to care.
“Cooking you dinner.”
“Wow…” I once again noted the mess in the kitchen, along with an ominous gurgling of something in the pot. “I am not eating that.”
I crawled out of my jacket, leaving it splattered across the floor, walked further into the living room, and collapsed on the sofa, exhausted.
“Well, I’m not eating that either.” Valko did not waste a second. He briskly picked up my jacket and threw it on top of his own—my dirty jacket, on top of his fancy one. What the actual...
“It’s all spices and weird sea creatures you like to put in your food. For no particular reason.” Valko had disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a bowl full of noodle soup. He carefully passed it to me, his sunset eyes locked onto mine. I raised my brow, my expression full of suspicion (I hoped). Yet the smell was too charming, and I gave in to my desire, taking a bowl from his sturdy hands. Valko plopped onto the couch beside me, stretching his unnecessarily long limbs. His tail rubbed gently against my shoulder.
After a couple of moments of sole chewing and slurping, I turned my head to give Valko my culinary criticism and, optionally, to praise him. He was yawning and rubbing his eyebrow. He did not bother covering his mouth, exposing a set of keen fangs once again. For a second, I contemplated whether he did that on purpose. However, a swung-open balcony door behind him caught my attention. I sighed.
“Dude, if you’re gonna barge in, at least do it the normal-people way.” I pointed to the front door. Valko did not bother looking in that direction at all. He tilted his head—a gesture that implies playfulness, yet he made it look serious, unwavering.
“‘Normal-people way’ is called normal-people way because it’s for normal people. Sorry, don’t fit the criteria. And.” Both his expression and his tone became solid. “I never barge in without a reason. Today, there is one.”
As if to confirm his reasoning, Valko shot a look at my gray uniform jacket, still covered in mud and dust and torn at one of the sleeves. I was listening to him cautiously, with a mouthful of food, when I understood what he meant.
Valko was here because I had a hell of a day. Probably learned it from news reports.
But before I could process it properly and come up with an appropriate reaction, his dorky grin was back, and his tone lost all of its previous firmness. “Besides, I know you like it when I’m here.”
I smirked. Probably the best way to thank him was to acknowledge him.
“You know what? I do.” The chopsticks clattered on the edge of my bowl as I put it down on the low table. I did not look in Valko’s direction, but I could almost feel his ears prick up and freeze. “I really do.”
I grabbed the remote and settled back into the sofa. Valko’s tail twitched from me, then immediately came back to rub on my shoulder. Was he petting me..? I still wouldn’t look at him.
Until Valko self-composedly took the remote away from my palm. I turned my head with one deadly motion, pure judgement in the gaze, only to find a serene expression and just a little bit of fuss in his narrowed eyes.
“Isn’t it a bit too late for that?” Valko carelessly threw the remote to the other side of the couch. “You should get some rest. Right, pup?”
“And leave you here all to yourself? In my living room? Hell nah.” My words were drowning in sarcasm. I could not manage to add even a grain of friskiness to my voice. Too tired.
But Valko seemed perfectly aware of everything—he nodded and shifted closer to my side. Exactly what I was thinking about.
And it pissed me off. He could not know me that well yet. “In that case, let’s stay here and chat. You’ll fall asleep in no time, trust me.”
Valko placed his gigantic arm behind me on the sofa as he shifted a bit closer again. I threw a big, appraising look at him, trying to look as tough as possible. But his warmth was irresistible. I leaned in.
“It’s past midnight. You should go home. Your family might be looking for their lil Valko, and he’s not there… Heartbreak.” I theatrically curved the corners of my mouth downwards. He chuckled.
“Well, even if they are… I just happened to be a grown-ass man.”
“Wolf.” I corrected him absentmindedly. Valko chuckled again and rubbed his face on my hair a couple of times. What an asshole…
“Quoting my aunt, pup? Did not expect that from you.” Valko caught my confused gaze and continued. “My Auntie always tells us to remember where we come from. And to where we’ll inevitably come back. Our kin.”
Unease settled in my chest. I remained silent, but Valko clearly didn’t need me to say anything. “You know, when we just met, I told Auntie a lot about you. Mainly to get some info from her end, but still…”
“Asshole…” My tone was just pure meekness.
“Hey! The situation was different then, so I was being cautious. You’d do the same.” Valko’s voice had deepened, yet still brimmed with mischief.
“And what did your aunt tell you about me?”
“Well…” A sort of strain settled in Valko’s voice. He carefully wrapped his arm around me and petted my other shoulder with jarring tenderness. “She told me to be alert around you.”
“Why...?” Barely a whisper. Valko leaned in a bit closer, talking in a more rustling voice now.
“She is… traditional. Sorta. She believes kinless cubs who learned how to survive on their own are deemed to do so forever.” Valko cautiously ruffled my hair, which made my eyes flutter shut. I was half a step close to falling asleep. “In the forest, it’s always the rule of the strongest, so when there’s a bunch of you, the chances are much greater. That’s why wolves stick together. Hunt together, sleep together, tend our cubs together. It’s a culture of never being alone. So, when there’s a lone cub—it’s a tragedy. Even if they manage to survive, the possibility of them bonding with a pack in adulthood is far-fetched. Because… trust issues, you know. No pack, no mate, no cubs of their own… This is genuinely terrifying for wolves with a kin.”
His deep voice echoed in the distance as I started to drift away. Before long, I felt his arms closing around me, enveloping me in infectious warmth and the scent of the slumbering forest.
“When we first met, you were alone on your mission. Once you were done, you returned home to no one. No one to greet you, no one to take care of your wounds, no one to prep dinner for you. I’m aware that it is a part of being a human adult, but…” I felt Valko’s chest rise and fall as he sighed heavily. “It doesn’t make it less depressing. I can’t imagine waking up one morning and being left to walk your path all by yourself.”
“I don’t think you’re kinless. Perhaps you have yet to find someone to walk down this road with you.”
This was the last thing that caught on the tip of my ear before I was swallowed by hushing darkness.
***
Captive to a pile of plushies and pillows, I didn’t hear the alarm clock at first. It was a great challenge to reach my arm out from under the blanket shelter to turn it off. Cool air made me shiver and pull the covers over my head. It felt like one second before the second alarm went off. I grunted and got up.
How big was my surprise to find my work uniform, still ripped, but clean and neatly folded on the couch with a note on it: “Srry pup, didnt find a sewing kit:<” I turned the paper absently, and there was another one: “Prepped lunch for u btw, check the fridge”
A laugh, pure and senseless, had escaped my mouth. Until my brain could process it, I brought the note closer to my face and smelled it—oak.
My gaze lifted to see the spotless kitchen, the apron hanging on the hook as always. For a second, I thought I dreamt of Valko cooking there just hours ago. I gripped the note tighter and took another whiff. His scent made me feel a sense of… togetherness? Like he never left.
In a few hours, I would find another note inside my lunchbox:
“For a strong lil pup, who can do it all by herself! (but doesnt have to(jus saying))
P.s. ur taste in music is weird 0-0”