23
Lathan
Lathan smirks after the wolf as he hurries off. He hops back on the bed and plugs his laptop’s adapter—thanks to Kylo’s winded movie choice—into its dying battery. And then, just to spite his boyfriend, he does, in fact, study, reading over lecture notes and rewriting textbook information to better retain it.
A couple hours pass and he notes the time at the bottom of his screen. I wonder if it’s started. Tearing skin and overgrown fur replace his academic thoughts. Guttural snarls and the heavy drops of drool-coated jowls. Lathan touches his shoulder, the raised scar tissue through the thin fabric of his T-shirt. He was so strong. The near seven-foot beast picked him up so easily from the bloodied floor to place him on the bed. And Lathan isn’t a small man himself.
“Full moon and all,” Jake had said, with a grossly cocky smile on his face that Lathan wanted to peel off. And Kylo admitted to it, that it’s a thing—full moon werewolves having sex. The mere thought boggles his mind, but…
He opens a new tab on his laptop. The search results are limited, probably hidden with keywords only the wolf community knows of, but he comes across a forum for wolves sharing their experiences and desires. As he cycles through questions and answers, reading vicious details of the act, the page refreshes, and someone’s posted a link.
A whole site dedicated to werewolf pornography.
He taps his fingers nervously on his trackpad. It feels weird—wrong—that this is the second time he’s intentionally clicked on werewolf porn. But he has to know. He wants to.
With his tongue poking the inside of his cheek, he opens one of the videos. It loads to vicious growls that have him slamming a finger on his volume button. Two shifted beasts are aggressively going at it, like two humanoids would, but with snapping and biting and clawing and everything is much bigger. He swallows, finding another video that’s more tame— if I can even call it that— where the werewolves aren’t as feral with one another, but it’s still hard and fast.
And he starts to realize it’s turning him on.
He switches the video again—maybe trying to find one that scares him or repulses him, but he doesn’t. He focuses on the wolf on top, hunched over his partner, talons dug into her body. The longer he watches, the harder he gets, and he can’t keep the image from entering his mind’s eye: Kylo on top of him, fucking him, as a huge, strong, dangerous werewolf.
He flushes, barely visible through his vampiric skin, looking down at the lump in his pants. Why am I thinking this? A shifted wolf wouldn’t fuck someone not who’s not shifted…right?
The thought makes him so anxious that he can’t look it up to find the answer. That’s fucked up, right? To even think…
Like last time, he closes the tab of the videos and slams his laptop shut, lying in a pool of shame, desire, heat, and anxiety on his side of the beds. But he’s alone with his thoughts all night. And it doesn’t leave him—forcing him to shove a hand down his pants—instead only burning hotter in his chest, his groin, when he thinks about the potential act.
◆◆◆
Over the next month as classes finish, final papers are submitted, and exams commence, Lathan thinks of ways he and Kylo can spend their winter break together. It’s another time he hates, stuck watching everyone else leave to see their families. But this time his family is here with him: Kylo.
He passes all his classes, some just barely—actually reading that damn book from the start of the term would have helped—but his parents don’t need to know that. They pressure him to get good grades, sure, but they’re mostly concerned with him just becoming a lawyer, and as long as he passes, he can do that.
There’s something else that’s been in his head for weeks now, that he doesn’t know how to, or if he ever should, bring up to Kylo. He’s scared of being judged, for perversions. And he doesn’t know logistically how it could ever work, so he’s bit his tongue since finding the full moon porn.
Lathan already has Kylo’s Yule gift planned, now he’s trying to decide on activities to do. Maybe they’ll go skating in Ridley. Maybe they’ll start their own traditions; he’s never had family holiday traditions like other kids growing up. Is it naive to want to start something like that with him? It’s still only been a few months.
Currently, Lathan is sprawled across their beds, on his stomach, feet crossed in the air, as he snacks on spicy pumpkin seeds Kylo’s mother baked herself and sent to the campus, along with other goodies before she and David left for their long retirement trip. After tasting the way she seasoned them in the care package she sent after Lathan’s sunstroke, he made sure to claim this bag, too, unless Kylo complains. He has a book cracked open on the bed, holding his page with one hand as the other digs in the bag of seeds, his fingertips a burnt orange of spices.
“Lathan?” Kylo asks, leaning back in his desk chair lazily and spinning around to face the beds.
Without looking up from his book, Lathan grabs the bag of seeds and holds it out for Kylo. He has been hogging them quite a bit.
“No,” Kylo laughs. “There’s…something we need to talk about.”
Lathan uses his tongue to push the half-chewed pumpkin seeds in his mouth to one side. “What’s up?”
“So, since I’m here for the break, there’s a little problem I found out about…”
“Okay,” Lathan says, waiting for more context.
“Uh. So you know how the full moon is in two days?”
Lathan nods. “Sure.”
“The staff are leaving for the break, so I have to find my own accommodations for the night. I got an email with the notice today.”
“What?” Lathan sits up; the seeds spill from the maw of the bag with the tilt of his weight. “They can’t just leave. Not with two days’ notice. Are they allowing access to W Block if someone else can lock you in?”
“No, the building will be closed. There’s so few werewolves staying, they aren’t staffing the facility.” He whirls his chair back to face his computer, and his voice reflects what’s on the screen. “‘Werewolf students will be required to find proper accommodations during the full moon on December rd , and will be held liable for any damages made to Obscura property or injuries inflicted upon others. For any questions, call our helpline.’”
“What the fuck?” Lathan’s now leaning over Kylo’s shoulder, reading the email for himself. He hisses, annoyed by the failings of the school, yet again, with its werewolves. “This place teaches law, and they don’t even know how it works?”
“I tried calling their helpline a few times, but no one picked up. I was hoping to have a plan ready before I told you.”
“So you don’t know what you’re going to do? Are there others you could ask? See what they’re doing?”
“Everyone I know is leaving.” Kylo shakes his head and sighs. “Shit, I don’t know. I guess I could just leave campus for the night and hope for the best.”
Lathan straightens, crossing his arms. “You can’t just ‘hope for the best.’ Where would you even go?”
“The forest a few miles out could work. Would have to walk back afterward, but at least I’d be away from people.”
“That’s stupid,” Lathan says. He goes back to the beds, plopping down on the seam where they press together. “I’ll just have to do what I did last time. Barricade the door. Try and keep you in here.”
Kylo doesn’t detest right away, but his eyes flick up, mulling something over for a few seconds. “What if you sedate me first?”
“I’m not doing that,” he says quickly, firmly. We haven’t toyed with biting since the incident—we haven’t even talked about it. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to bring things up from the past.
Kylo walks over to him, standing in front of where he sits, and takes his hands in his own. “I’m only staying if you put me out. I can’t have things end up like last time, or—gods forbid—worse.”
Lathan bites his lip, shaking his head. “Look, I haven’t… we haven’t done that in a long time,” he tries to say carefully. “I don’t want to scare you.”
“You won’t.” He squeezes Lathan’s hands. “I trust you. I always have, and I always will. I’ll be okay, I promise.” He offers a soft smile; there are no hesitations in his words.
Lathan’s shoulders slump. He drops his gaze, too, onto their hands, squeezed lovingly together. He’s quiet, and then agrees. “If you’re sure.”
Kylo grins and hops back to his desk, spinning around in the chair fully once before planting his feet and continuing whatever he was doing beforehand. The plan makes Lathan nervous, but it’s better than Kylo just wandering the woods and hoping nothing bad happens. This way he can watch him. Take the blow instead of anyone else if things get hairy. And now they’ll be together that night, not losing more time together this winter break.
We’ll be together…
Lathan shifts, his heartbeat quickening. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
Kylo peeks up over his shoulder before returning his eyes to his computer. “For sure, what’s up?”
“Uhm.” He scratches at his cuticles. “This is kinda random. But you’d said you’ve done it before…in wolf form.” He pauses, letting that translate for Kylo, because he doesn’t want to spell it out. “Was it something you enjoyed?”
“O-oh. I—uh…” Kylo slowly turns in his chair, enough to see Lathan sideways. “Yeah, I guess it was. Why?”
Lathan’s staring at the floor. He can’t look at him. He already regrets bringing it up. His feet squirm with nervousness, and he peels a piece of skin a little too far up his nail bed.
“I couldn’t really picture it being real, so I looked it up a while ago…”
Nothing is said between them for a gruelling amount of time, and Lathan fights the urge to punch himself in the face.
“Did… Did you want to?”
Lathan looks up at him abruptly. His eyes are round with embarrassment, but Kylo’s watching him as his own emotions colour his cheeks. “Is that even something wolves do with people who aren’t…”— also wolves— “…transformed?”
“I mean, maybe not usually, but it’s still me, and you are my boyfriend. But ,” he quickly inserts, rubbing a flushed ear, “I-I would never, i-if that’s something that would make you uncomfortable.”
Lathan grips the edge of the bed, pinching Kylo’s soft throw blanket, putting his shame into the fabric. “I thought it was kind of hot,” he admits sheepishly, his voice quiet.
Kylo stares with unblinking eyes, and his voice hushes to mirror Lathan’s. “You did?”
Lathan’s face burns, too—that soft pink that’s barely there, but he’s sure Kylo can still see it. He looks at anything other than Kylo, at The Dahlias poster on the wall. “That’s weird, right?”
Kylo gets up and softly pads over to Lathan. Digging a knee into the edge of the mattress, he swings the other over Lathan’s lap, straddling him. With two fingers under Lathan’s chin, he lifts his head to meet his gaze.
“No,” Kylo breathes, leaning forward, a hand resting on the back of Lathan’s neck, their lips brushing, “I think it’s hot too.”
Lathan’s heart thrums wildly. He holds Kylo steady on his lap with palms against the small of his back. An anxiety building inside of him. An excitement.
“How would this work?” he asks against his satin lips, as smooth as the rose petals that keep turning up around the room even weeks after they were disposed of.
“Same way it does now, just…larger. And I’d have the upper hand.” His fangs wink at Lathan suggestively under the overhead light.
Lathan chuckles nervously. “I, uhm. I’ve never…”
“You’ve never what?” Kylo slinks his face next to Lathan’s ear and whispers, “Been dominated?”
With a shaky exhale, Lathan’s hands grip Kylo’s back, tightening with fistfuls of the fabric. “Yeah,” he admits under his breath. “All my partners have been on the receiving end.”
Kylo hums. “There’s a first time for everything,” he purrs, nipping at Lathan’s hot ear before slipping from his lap, leaving him to stir in his heated state. With a wink and that oh-so charming fanged grin on full display, he returns to his desk chair, kicking one leg over the other and lounging back, still staring at his flustered boyfriend.
Overwhelmed by the prospect in the next few days, Lathan flops all the way back on the beds, his arms crossing over face. He hears Kylo laugh—a little too maniacally for his nerves—and the chair creak as it turns again.
How is he so fucking cool about this? I’m shitting myself. I’ve never—and he’s gonna…
Fuck.
◆◆◆
The next two days drag on, a new tension in the air between them. It’s awkward, yet erotic; something that neither address further, pretending that it doesn’t exist so that they can at least try to relax during their first few days of holidays.
But the relaxation doesn’t come. The two days are painful for Lathan; he’s a nervous wreck. The more he thinks about it, the more he wants to experience it—but it’s also terrifying. He tries to ease his mind while in the shower, using a finger to test the sensation, but it’s awkward in the linear stall and he gets frustrated, and then embarrassed. He’s surprised Kylo hasn’t brought up the conversation again since—“ you want me to fuck you as a huge beast, but you’ve never bottomed before. ” He tries to take his mind off of it, but it’s not possible. He doesn’t even know for sure if it’s happening—they never officially said that’s the plan.
After agonizingly waiting, the night of the full moon arrives. And attached to it, anxiety, for a myriad of reasons:
Lathan wants Kylo to stay in the dorm, not run rampant in some forest, ‘hoping for the best,’ and so they’ve both agreed to venom-induced sedation. Not only could this trigger Kylo’s fears, it also comes with an unknown: if the amount of venom needed to knock out a werewolf is too much for Kylo’s human body to metabolize. If not enough is used, however, Kylo, in his delirious, dissociated state of transformation, might harm Lathan. And he might not be so lucky this time. If all things go well, and Kylo is able to sleep soundly for the first hour, when he comes to there’ll be a sexual experience hanging above their heads that neither of them are sure they’re ready for, despite the mutual turn-on.
Lathan’s eyes have been glued to the clock all day. His nerv es grow with every waking second, clamping the muscle in his chest and zinging through his fingertips.
It took three bites to take down Kylo’s full moon wolf, but the venom took a while to settle within him. This time he wants it quick, so Kylo barely has a chance to think about it. So as long as neither of them chicken out, he’ll be pumping his venom straight into his main arteries to be carried through his system promptly.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asks, eyeing the looming night atmosphere out their window.
“Yep!” Kylo exclaims with a clap, though Lathan can sense his jubilance is covering for his nervousness. “If I can’t be in the forest, roamin’ with my homies, this is what I want.”
Cocking a brow at him, Lathan pushes his sleeves to his elbows. “Okay. You’ll have to tell me when,” he says, looking at the clock for the millionth time, and then turning back to his laptop, knee bouncing.
“In about fifteen minutes should be good.” Kylo sits on the bed, tapping his thighs. “So…if everything goes well, did you want to sleep together?”
His knee continues to bounce, but the rest of him stiffens. His lungs constrict for a moment, breath caught in his throat. His heart beats faster, his hand—hung over the back of the chair—still quaking. This is it.
He looks at Kylo over the backrest of his chair and somehow manages to push out his answer. “I’d like to try, if you do.”
While Lathan has learned to be more vulnerable because of Ky, and he trusts him, he doesn’t want to show just how nervous he is about this. He doesn’t want to ruin it. He wants to be strong and excited—and he is, but also terrified.
“Then we’ll try.” Kylo nods. “But if you don’t like it, tell me and I’ll stop, no questions asked.”
“I know.” He tries to muster a smile, but it feels weird on his face, unconvincing, so he turns back to his computer for a few minutes—staring at the time until he stands again, tucking his chair in and blowing out a breath.
“Okay. Go lie down.”
Kylo exhales more dramatically than Lathan. “Deep breaths, Kylo, deep breaths,” he mutters to himself, salvaging his shirt and pants by stripping from them so they aren’t destroyed in his shift. He keeps his briefs on, and the image of a brute wolf in tighty-whities makes Lathan less anxious for a moment.
Once Kylo’s shimmied onto the centre of the beds, arms and legs tucked in like he’s ready for a medical exam, Lathan takes in a silent breath and kneels beside him. “I’m gonna try to make this quick, okay?”
Kylo nods, closing his eyes and breathing steady to prepare himself.
He places his fingers on the opposite side of Kylo’s neck from where his lips hover. He can feel his pulse rise under his touch. I know you’re scared , he tells him in his head. I’m sorry. I won’t hurt you. He kisses the wolf’s skin, and in practically the same instance, cuts his fangs into his carotid artery, smooth and painless. His blood touches Lathan’s tongue as it rises up, and he tries not to let it trigger him, distract him from his task with its sweet, earthy taste. I’m not doing that. His venom disperses from the root of his teeth, rushing through Kylo’s body, carried by his thick pulse—he knows by Kylo’s soft intake of air, dark lashes fluttering shut—and Lathan retreats from his neck, sealing it promptly with his tongue.
He glances up Kylo’s body from under his brows as he scales further down the beds. “You okay so far?” The mattresses curve under Kylo’s bare legs as Lathan bends one knee toward him.
“Yeah”—he opens his eyes drowsily to smile down at Lathan, cradling his thigh—“just peachy.”
Lathan exhales a scoff. “Okay, smartass. Just relax.”
He runs two fingers up the inside of Kylo’s thigh, searching for the concentration of blood flow through his femoral artery. Once he feels it—the swim in its walls, the beat of its cells, combating his venom—around his mid-thigh, his lips replace the draw of his fingers. He plants another kiss into his leg before emptying his venom into the lower half of his body to be hurried through his system.
Kylo begins to nod off, his muscles gelatinous within Lathan’s hands. He catches himself and tries to find Lathan’s face before his eyes fall back in his skull and the venom overrides his consciousness.
Lathan breathes out. Sits back on his heels. Looks over the sedated body of his boyfriend. Hopes the concentration into his arteries, his heart, keeps him under longer.
As Kylo’s limbs begin to twitch with the call of the brilliant full moon, Lathan gives him space, leaving the entirety of the mattresses for his bones to stretch and grow. He sits nearby in Kylo’s chair, waiting, anticipating. He’s already moved the desk against the door—since it’s already scratched up—to buy himself time if it ends up not being enough venom.
Kylo’s ears are the first to fully shift, rising and elongating from the sides of scalp, where he loses his curls and his hair begins to fray, waterfalling into waves of fur. It’s a bizarre sight to behold. Unlike the initial transformation Lathan was witness to, chaotic and grotesque, pleading and terrifying, this is weirdly peaceful. Kylo’s like a timelapse video of a plant blossoming as his body takes on a metamorphosis before his eyes. His spine arches and lengthens into a tail beneath him; limbs extend into fuzzy hands and feet; face sprouts brown fur in various growth patterns as his muzzle cracks into place.
Lathan was so distracted by Kylo’s wellbeing that he didn’t even register that he tasted his blood without having a panic attack. He’s been getting better over the weeks, the months, feeding easier as long as his senses aren’t overloaded by others doing the same. This is the first time since Kylo saved him that he’s had his blood on his taste buds, and the first time he didn’t think twice about the substance reaching his mouth in months. In fact, it was almost pleasant to taste him again, even if only drops between sedation.
He’s mesmerized by the transformation before him. It’s artistic, a piece of nature to behold and paint murals about, write poetry about—he wonders if Kylo ever writes about what it’s like, what he remembers through each shift—but he’s also on the edge of his seat once it’s complete. Impatient for Kylo to wake. Whether feral or in control, he needs to know he’s okay, that the venom ran its course and wasn’t too much for his body.
He starts to really worry when the Power Hour comes and goes, and Kylo’s still soundly asleep. But it isn’t long after that when the beast blinks awake slowly, turning his head from left to right, gathering his bearings. Lathan’s elbows rest on his knees as he watches, ready to jump, ready to fight Kylo as he arches forward from his slumber.
The werewolf huffs, its jowls twitching with the expulsion of air. Shifting to the edge of the beds where his feet previously hung, he raises his yellow-tinted stare, and their eyes meet.