Work Text:
There is a boy, lost in the woods and he smells sweet, tastes of fear, ready to tip into panic, stumble headfirst and throat bared into despair.
Night is falling fast, faster than the boy can keep his feet chasing that last crack of sunlight splitting the horizon. He hopes it is enough to get him home. It won’t be.
The curtain falls. Night is absolute. Even the hungry moon cannot edge out the dark between the trees. His heart thunders in the silence.
James can hear it, a blood-song keening above the wind. He licks his lips, wonders what the boy will taste like when he lathes the sweat off his skin. Wonders if he’ll want to fuck him first before the wolf holds sway and instinct wins.
M once said that instinct was the best part of him, she also said it would ruin him.
M was right. Sometimes the wolf forgets he has a twin. Forgets he’s also a man.
There is a boy, lost in the woods tonight. A boy with green eyes and alabaster skin.
And a wolf who’s gone a’hunting without his Mater’s leave, a wolf who won’t come to heel or hand.
There’s a Detective and his soldier in the forest tonight, London’s best, with a bullet and Mycroft’s blessing.
Let the hunt begin.
