Shiro shifts the basket of baked goods to his other hand, shaking out his tired arm. When he'd set off earlier this evening, with a batch of fresh baked cookies from Mrs. Black's bakery and other goodies for his under the weather friend. He'd been under the impression that Keith lived much closer to the village. The hunter came in to sell his skins and meat at least once a week if not more. Had he been really hauling those heavy kills this far the entire time?
No wonder he'd been so eager to leave earlier today, as Shiro was quickly learning, any later and the sun would have been well below the horizon before he got home. He'd have to talk to Keith. If he was feeling ill, he couldn't push himself like this. Even if Shiro would miss seeing him on his regular day…That wasn't why Keith had come was it, because he didn't want to miss their meet up on the edge of town? No, no that was silly. They were friends, but there was no way Keith looked forward to his weekly walk as much as the guard did.
A chill wind blows through the tree, as the last inkling of the sun's warmth disappears. Shiro pulls the red cloak that denotes him as a member of the lord's military tighter around himself, and sends up a quite thanks for the light of the full moon rendering the well trodden path still visible. Any other night, and he would be forced to wait until morning, or risk being lost in the woods till the forest imps got him. Not that he believed in such things. That was just superstitions of the locals. Made up reasons to justify their dislike of those who made their living out here, like his hunter.
A howl echoes through the night, bouncing off the trees making it impossible to tell how close or far. Shiro clasps the hilt of his sword in his unnatural metal hand, a mage's gift to make up for what he lost in service to his lord. Forest imps were wives tales, but wolves were very very real. In the harshest of winters they would drag even a grown man away to their den to satisfy their hunger. To think Keith lived out here with such creatures. Maybe Shiro needed to make a habit of this journey. It was his duty to guard land and residents of the his lord after all, and no matter what others said, that included Keith.
Shiro increases his pace. Listening closely to the snaps and rustles of the night. Trying to pick out the difference between a branch shifted by the wind and one moved by something far more dangerous. Even with the moon's light there are shadows everywhere, playing tricks on his eyes. He could swear something moves in his peripherals, but turning there is nothing there. Don't stop. Keep moving Takashi. Keith's home can't be much further.
Returning his eyes to the path, Shiro hurries forward. The dirt path remains clear, but there is nothing but trees, bushes, and more trees. No wait, up ahead, is that? It is. Through the trees, just barely he can make out the boxy outline of a man made home. He's made it, at last. He can knock on the door, surprise Keith, then spend the night in the safety of his four walls.
Something cracks beside him, Shiro whirls, and is met with two golden glowing eyes.
...
Keith slams the door shut to his shack. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I think I'm coming down with something. What kind of excuse was that? The kind of stupid excuse he has to make, when he lets his desire to see the gorgeous village guard over ride his common sense, is what. Keith throws his purse onto his bed, and begin stripping out of his clothes. His skin already feels tight with the approach of dusk.
So stupid, it doesn't matter if Shiro wears his armor like he was born for it, or if he's the only person in that damn village that treats him kindly. He knows better than to go during this time. He'd had enough trouble making it home in time, when he wasn't slowing his walk to spend just a little more time alone with Shiro. Even if the smile that lit up his face when Keith walked out of the forest was enough to make Keith's heart stop.
Disrobed, Keith storms back outside. Chill air of approaching night nipping at his skin. Keith breathes deep, and tries to calm himself down. The last thing he wants is to maul something in his front yard because he's stressed again. The mess is a pain to clean up. In out, he made it in time. His stupid decision didn't have any consequences this time.
The last rays of sunlight dip below the horizon and Keith's body seizes as that full moon takes hold. It's painful but not. His limbs shake and stretch out of proportion. His ears shift and mold to something new. His teeth and nails narrow down to sharp points, but instead of an unnatural change racking him with agony. It's like he's finally being released to assume his true form. Muscle crying out in relief as they take the shape they were meant to be. Hair sprouts, and then the moon is done. No more is the unloved, strange hunter, instead is the creature of nightmares. A man touched by the wolf, but so clearly neither.
Keith stretches, then leans back on the new bends of his hind legs and howls. The night has begun, and it is time for him to play.
...
The wolf is freedom. To run, to hunt, to play. Freedom to do as he wills without the niggling doubts and questions his human mind likes to pester him with. The wolf does what it wants because it can and there is nothing more to it. Which is why when that familiar scent teases his nose, Keith runs towards the source instead of away. Something delicious has entered his woods.
Keith finds him on the path. Steps clumsy and loud in a way no forest animal could be. Red cloak brilliant in the moonlight. Keith's mouth salivates, a hunger very different from that raised by the meat of a meal growing in his stomach. The tinge of fear all humans feel at being caught in his woods on this night, does nothing to put it off. He wants and what the wolf wants the wolf gets.
His treat is already carrying himself to Keith's den, so he bides his time. Stalks behind the skittish guard, and maybe breaks a few twigs on purpose just to watch him jump. Keeps him from getting bored.
When his den is finally in sight, Keith moves. Darts around the guard onto the path. Shiro's pretty grey eyes widen comically when his head snaps around to sees Keith, joints locking just a second in shock. Keith doesn't give him a chance to recover.
Keith lunges forward taking the man off his feet, basket bouncing away as he flails. Keith's hands are stiff and clawed in this form, but with surprise and his strength its more than enough to wrench the unsheathed blade away from his prey and cast it away. He'd be hard pressed to be killed by the weapon, but bleeding wounds would ruin his fun.
Keith's stronger like this. A hand on Shiro's broad chest to hold him down. Keith leans forward, and Shiro's struggles come to an abrupt halt as recognition sparks behind his eyes. Good, Keith lets his lips split around too many teeth in a dangerous smile, "Hello, beautiful. Is this for me?"
...
It, it can't be…they don't exist. Stories, like the imps, but that face. Shiro's survival instincts have temporarily left him. Because instead reaching forward to plunge a thumb into an eye or any one of a dozen dangerous painful things he could do to get out from under the monstrous teethed thing, he's reach shaking fingers forward to touch the familiar curve of his friend's cheek hidden behind soft fur.
A flash and teeth are around his fingers bearing down and…holding them? A play nip, not even breaking the skin, "Keith?" Shiro says in a voice much higher than he'd like to admit.
Glowing golden eyes crinkle, then his fingers are being let go. Just in time for the first snap of a strap giving way to Keith's claws, "Let's play," Keith says, shifting against him. Almost…oh, oh!
...
The sweet smell of arousal fills the air at the same time Shiro cheeks flush. The silly human has finally caught on. Now to get this armor off. There are far to many things holding it on. Every strap Keith cuts seems to lead to two more. As the last one give and the undershirt beneath it shreds like paper under his claws, the prize below is worth the effort.
Shiro's naked chest is better than his fantasies. Long scars stretched over hard muscle. He wants to lick it, so he does. Long tongue running up the most prominent bisecting scar. Shiro squawks and his hands fly to Keith's waist, but he doesn't try to push him off. The bulge against Keith's ass more than gives him away. Keith grinds back and revels in the gasp of his captured prey.
He wants to scent the man, he wants to drag him inside his den to never escape, but most of all right now, he wants to tear those pants off and have his way with him.
The scent of blood hits the air as Keith's claws rake down the outside of Shiro's thighs, tearing and pulling off his pants in equal measure, but it's only spice to him. Something to drive him higher, and Shiro doesn't seem to mind, hips bucking up to meet his own once he's freed.
There are no hands between them. His hands aren't meant for sensitive flesh and Shiro's are fisted into his fur, but he wants, so he takes. Roughly grinding their dicks together for blessed friction. Panting open mouthed, dipping his head down to run the sharp points of his teeth against Shiro's neck and chin. Only curbing the urge to bite there for desire not to have the man bleed out.
Keith ruts hard and Shiro moans under him. Louder and louder, until his body arches, crying Keith name, and Keith begins to rut through the wet spill of his seed. The smell, the feel of the body go lax under him, the dazed bliss in those beautiful grey eyes. Keith comes, blood sparks across his tongue as he bites down. Pleasure rolls across him in waves, then he to is collapsing.
Keith catches his breath quickly. Then nuzzles against his beautiful guard, cleaning the wound his bite has left. Shiro does not yet have the advantage of the moon to revitalize him. Eventually, Shiro does shift though, and Keith pushes himself up.
The blush staining Shiro's cheeks stands out all the more prominently. Mmmm, he has no right to be so cute.
Now Keith has many options for explaining things, awkwardly going through what they've done and its implications, or he could skip all that and have some more fun.
"Keith!" Shiro shouts, as Keith throws him over his shoulder, "What are you doing?!"
Keith just squeezes one of Shiro's perfectly muscled ass cheeks, as he starts heading to his den with his prize. The night is still young, and there is much more ravishing he wants to do.