Author: Maddie-the-Muse

Pairing: two wolves - not identified for the first couple of chapters

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, romance, slash, smut (I'm not even going to try and fool anyone)

Universe: New Moon/AU - Deals primarily with the pack with not much involvement from the Vampires. The pack is in its early stages through most of the story, not all of the wolves have phased yet. I have adjusted the ages of the wolves, simply because I can't imagine them as young as they are - they have never really been 16 in my mind. It also didn't make sense to me that half of the ancestors to the last pack would all be the same age. Ages as follows: Sam-20, Leah-19, Jared-18, Paul-18, Embry-17, Jacob-17, Quil-16 (same grade as Embry and Jake), Seth-14, Brady-13, Colin-13

Warning: This is a m/m slash story. If this isn't your thing, please don't read it and then complain about it.

Summary: Testosterone and sexual tensions run high between two of La Push's protectors. Their continual fighting and struggle for dominance leads to one of them taking things to the next level, but at what cost? Questions of choice vs. destiny, sexual identity, social acceptance and a sense of belonging are all drawn to the forefront as the boys work through their battle.

Pre-Reader: maLorLa

Beta: Maria Vilson

Disclaimer: The following is based on the characters, settings, and events from the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer. All recognizable characters, settings, etc., are the property of their respective owners. The author, known by the pen name Maddie-the-Muse, is in no way associated with Stephenie Meyer, or the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise related to The Twilight series. Only aspects entirely unique and original to this story are owned by this story's author. This work is intended for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 1: Closing the Gap

His fist connected with my jaw and made my head snap sideways. The pain ricocheted through my jaw and down my neck, but I couldn't give in to it. I needed to keep my eyes on him or he would fucking kill me. He hit me again, and again; the sound of my teeth crashing together echoed in my head.

When did this kid get so fucking strong?

We had been fighting like this on shortening intervals for weeks. It was always the same thing; I'd set his anger off somehow, he'd fucking pound on me, and then we'd be fine again for another few days until the whole thing started up again.

He leaned his shoulder into my chest pushing heavily against me and I couldn't keep from stumbling backwards. I crashed into something behind me, hard, knocking the air out of my lungs. He was glaring at me, with his forearm across my chest pinning me to the tree at my back. He had his face right up in mine and his breathing was as ragged as my own.

"Enough," he panted. We'd been going at each other for a while and I couldn't even remember what I had done to set him off this time—had I done anything? His eyes bored holes through me with the intensity of the look he gave me. We both heaved and puffed, trying desperately to draw enough air into our fatigued lungs.

Fuck! I couldn't take it anymore, not with him right there, with his hot breath fanning out across my face. He was already primed to fucking beat me to death; why not make it worth something?

I clamped my hand on his neck and closed the gap between us, quickly taking his mouth in a hard kiss.

Shocked, he pulled back, his eyebrows knit together in confusion as his eyes scanned mine for some answer. I held fast to his neck, waiting for his reaction; good or, more likely, bad and fucking painful. Without warning, in one smooth movement, his arm was no longer pinning me to the tree but had been replaced with his hard, sweaty body. His mouth was hot and hungry at mine, his hand roughly gripping my hip and hauling me toward him.

After a long, heated moment, he pulled away enough to search my eyes again. "You're not gay," his statement sounded more like an accusation.

I watched him, and shook my head. We had all suspected that he might swing that way, although none of us had any way of knowing for sure. I couldn't really remember when it had started or how, but recently all I could think about was being with him; that is probably what led to us trying to fucking kill each other on a regular basis. I'm not gay, but I can't be entirely straight either if I want him so badly.

I was hardly breathing, waiting for his response, but he didn't say anything more for a long time; he just watched me, his brow still furrowed, searching for something. Maybe he thought I was messing with him, maybe he was hopeful I wasn't; I didn't really care what was going through his mind, all I could think about was how good it had felt to finally kiss him and how much I wanted to do it again.

"What about the rest of the pack?" he asked eventually. I watched the muscles in his throat work as he swallowed thickly, and licked his lips.

"I don't care," I replied with a shrug, digging my fingertips into the hair at the back of his neck; reminding him; encouraging him.

"What do you want from this?" he asked, his voice strained and reserved, not giving away anything of what he wanted himself. He hadn't hit me and he hadn't stepped back from me, those had to be indications of something positive, right?

"Right now, I want you to kiss me again," I acknowledged, urging him forward.

He braced his arm on the tree trunk beside my head, stopping me from pulling him into me any further. "And then what?" His face was serious.

"Fuck, you know I think with my dick," I snapped. I grabbed his hand that still clutched my hip and pressed it flat against the raging hard-on in my shorts. "You tell me, then what?" My eyes fluttered shut and rolled back in my head as he rubbed his hand firmly over my hard length and down to cup my balls through the denim of my shorts. The whole time he studied me with his face only inches away from mine.

I forced my eyes open. I smoothed my other hand over his bare chest, down over his stomach and lower to find his cock in a similar state. I urged him forward again with my hand on the back of his neck; he bent his elbow allowing me to guide his mouth to mine.

The kiss was softer this time, but there was just as much urgency behind it.

He was everywhere all at once. I hadn't noticed that he was so much bigger than me until I was surrounded by him; he had at least a couple of inches on me now. His big, rough hands roamed over my body—pulling me closer, smoothing over exposed skin, pinching sensitive parts, digging into flesh—as his hot mouth trailed from my lips, over my face to my ear, down my neck to my throat. The unfamiliar scratch of his stubble on my skin sent a shudder through me. I tilted my head back, granting him further access as his teeth grazed the tendons in my neck. I couldn't take anymore; I was used to being the one in control and I wanted to touch him.

I spun us around so his back was to the tree and pressed my body into his. I looked him in the eye and ran my hands down his chest to the waistband of his shorts. His face didn't falter at all as I popped the button and lowered the zipper, or when I slid my hand further down his stomach and into his shorts, but he grabbed my wrist just as my fingers curled around him, his eyes rolling back as I grabbed him with a firm fist.

"I'm not able to keep the other guys out of my head; they're going to see this," he warned.

"I told you, I don't care." I ran my tongue up his neck to his ear making his cock twitch in my grip as he let out a soft moan. "Do you want me to stop?" I breathed in his ear, giving his cock a little squeeze.

"No," he gasped.

"Then don't watch if you don't want them to know it's me." I gave his earlobe a quick nip, and sunk to my knees. I pulled his shorts open and down far enough to let him spring free.

The opportunity to examine another guy's equipment was one that had never presented itself to me before, I really only had my own to compare him to—and porn I guess, but honestly I hadn't been watching porn for cock. His dick bobbed after being released from the confines of his shorts, it wasn't as thick as mine but at least as long; the purple head poking out from his uncut foreskin and seeping pre-cum. I'd never touched another guy's junk—never even thought about it—but I wanted his dick in my mouth.

I reached my hand between his legs and held his balls giving them a light squeeze, using my grip to pull the hood back over the head of his cock—that was totally new and fascinating for me—making him groan in response. I know what I like, so I started there; thinking I'd just go with what felt right.

I leaned forward and ran my tongue experimentally along the underside of his erection from his nuts in my grip to the leaking tip, tasting the saltiness as I ran the tip of my tongue over his slit.

"Ohfuck!" His hand gripped the back of my neck as he sputtered a moan.

I repeated the trail along the outer edge on one side and was about to lick up the other side, when he jerked away from me.

"Fuck, wait. Stop!" he choked out, turning away from me and pulling his shorts up. "We can't do this."

"What the Hell?" I growled, collapsing down in the dirt at his feet on my ass. I had been about to blow him, clearly I wasn't too concerned with presenting myself as submissive, which was not only totally out of character for me in the pack, but with him specifically; I had always been the more dominant when we'd spent time together. He was, technically, my subordinate in pack rank after all.

"Trust me, you don't want this," he scoffed and rubbed a hand vigorously over his face. My brain was already struggling under a cloud of raging hormones and confusion and a heaping dose of rejection landed on top of all that—I wasn't used to being told no.

I gaped up at him, "The fuck I don't." I reached out to touch his leg, and he pulled away further, stepping away from the tree and where I sat.

"No, you don't," he spat and stalked off into the trees, stripping his clothes off as he went. He phased and ran off before I even had a chance to think about getting to my feet.

I leaned my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands and tried to clear my mind. That had been completely fucked up and nothing at all like I had been imagining for the last few weeks. I had thought he'd beat me to within an inch of my life, but had gotten a glimmer of hope when he'd kissed me back, and even more when we'd kissed the second time. When he let me take control—I knew he had let me—I gave up worrying about him hitting me and switched into autopilot.

What the hell did he mean that I didn't want this? I had come to the conclusion that I wanted it more than I wanted to not have my teeth knocked out, more than I wanted to chase tail around the Res, more than, well, more than anything I could think of. I didn't understand it, but I wanted him; I knew at least that much was true.

I had never had a single sexual thought about guys before a few weeks ago; never once questioned that I was straight. It had just snuck up on me. It wasn't like I hadn't known him for months—longer if you counted knowing him to see him in school—but somehow in the last month or so things had changed. He'd gone from being simply another pack brother, to us spending more and more time together outside the pack—a friend— to drifting unsuspected under my radar and into the occasional thought he had no place being in. Once I acknowledged that I was attracted to him, he quickly became all I could think about. To have him storm off after telling me I didn't want this—want him—I just couldn't wrap my head around it, it made no fucking sense.

I stood up and headed back toward the Res. on foot, stopping to pick up his discarded shorts along the way. It was clear by the way he'd left that he wasn't interested in talking about it or anything else, so I'd walk and give him some space.

I dropped his cut-offs just inside the tree line at the back of his place—he'd find them there eventually—and headed over to Sam's as per protocol after a patrol run. It wasn't my shift, but I knew him well enough to know that when he took off like that he'd be running for a while. Someone needed to check in, so I guess it had to be me.

"You look like hell," Sam scoffed at me as I climbed the steps to his back patio where he sat in a lawn chair. "I was about to give up on you guys. What happened? You two trying to kill each other again?" It was no secret that we fought. Sam had tried to stop us in the beginning but had left off when he realized we weren't causing each other any serious harm. It was a good way to let off excess aggression that seemed to come with being a giant supernatural wolf.

"Thanks!" I replied, rolling my eyes; if I looked anything like I felt, 'Hell' didn't quite cover it. "I don't want to talk about it." I collapsed into the chair on Sam's left, thankful it was him there and not Jared. Jared may be my best friend and second in command, but he sure didn't treat any of us with the same respect that Sam did, and I wasn't in the mood for his bullshit.

"So, you're alone?" he questioned me with a furrowed brow.

"Sam, really, I don't want to talk about it right now, okay?" I huffed. "He took off."

A knowing look swept over Sam's face and he nodded slowly pursing his lips.

"He told you?"

"Jesus, Sam!" I sighed, frustrated at his persistence. I realized too late what he had said. "Told me what?"