Hello my friends. Welcome to the beginning of my sexy, sensual au. Although this fic centres around Australia and New Zealand, there are many other couples in this au, some of which will be mentioned in this, most of which will have their own fics later on, if you all like this au.

Disclaimer: all use of the word 'orbs' are completely ironic. And moronic.

...

Hunapo - New Zealand

Alin – Romania

…

Hunapo loved the smell of a new book.

There was just something about it: the anticipation of of ripping into a new book and reading the new book and going on an adventure with the cast of the new book and forgetting about the world for a few hours because he was busy reading his new book, oh it was thrilling. Paper and wood, new new new. There was something fresh and pure about that new book smell, nicely juxtaposed with the shamelessly filthy smut that usually made up the contents of his favourite reads, though he had also read every Lord of the Rings book so that was something. It was nice having a book he could say he read that didn't contain poorly photoshopped pecs and abs on the cover. You couldn't get that new book smell on a fancy kindle, or on a phone or computer or whatever device you are using right now. It just does not compare, face it. Call Hunapo pretentious, but he just loved real books. When it came to Hobbit fanfiction though, he could bear a phone screen for a taste of fantasy smut.

His favourite new book smell, of course, came from the fresh copies of his own newly published works. Books he had slaved over tirelessly and slightly hornily except for when he didn't know what words to use or if his grammar was correct so then he was just frustrated. But not sexually frustrated just regular frustrated. Not a good kind of frustrated at all. It was a less sticky kind though, to regular frustration's credit.

Yes, a lot of hard work went into all his books, and his latest - Alpha Outcast Desire - was no exception. In fact, he always had to put in more work with each new book to make sure it topped his previous masterpiece - in this case Marking the Omega Sub - in terms of blowing his readers' minds and prostates. An easy task by now for such an experienced writer, surely? His books may never become classics but he had made possibly thousands of gay men - and probably women too - touch themselves without ever meeting them and that was pretty cool too.

Unsurprisingly, he lived alone. As a single man, he often lost himself in his fantasies of being dominated - and in return dominating - by a hairy, muscled, werewolf lover, lying in his bed, the sofa, the bath, even the cubicles of public toilets if he was feeling particularly bored, just jerking it. Between that and writing, it was a wonder he hadn't developed carpel tunnel, even if he tended to use a different arm for each.

He just loved werewolves so much. As a kid, he thought they were really cool and wanted to be one; as a teen, every piece of art he uploaded to furaffinity was of his werewolf sona, along with every piece of art he commissioned; and now as an adult he got to write about them all day. Except on days when he had writer's block. Those days were for teen wolf marathons or leaving his flat to look for inspiration. Or to go drinking.

Speaking of which, even though the first chapter of his latest masterpiece - Trying Vore for my Werewolf Lover - was well underway and he would not be leaving his office all day, Hunapo did like the idea of going outside with his friends for once, maybe even for a night of drinking if they were down. The two of them had also published books recently and they hadn't had a chance to celebrate yet. Tino's latest work was Pillaged by the Pagan, and Alin's was Taming the Transylvanian Terror. Both excellent reads, Hunapo would be the first to say.

He sent them a quick message in their group chat, before going back to his lengthy description of his main protagonist: Brett Michaels, rugged Kiwi rugby player and bottom to the charming werewolf alpha he would be introducing in possibly chapter five. Who knew at this stage? Right now though, Hunapo was having fun describing his big, meaty thighs and crooked nose, knowing he would have even more fun describing the werewolf.

He didn't even know why it was werewolves of all things that turned him on like a coffee machine, but knew he wasn't alone. Hell, his two best friends, even if they weren't all interested in werewolves, still understood the allure of niche erotica. Alin had a particular kink for vampires - then again, he had a kink for pretty much everything; it was rather disturbing at times - and apparently as a kid tried to convince everyone he was. Demons and torture were also common in his works. Tino, on the other hand, liked writing Viking fantasy he may or may not act out with his husband, who was coincidentally Swedish. All the love interests he created resembled the man. All of them.

That was how they met: an online site where they published their early erotica, back in college when they were all terrible at writing, and upon reflection at was all really terrible, and discovered they all happened to live in the same city. And were all incredibly weird.

The three of them had been besties since.

Of course, none of their loved ones - besides Tino's husband - actually knew of their professions. It just wasn't something any of them wanted to admit at parties and family reunions, hence why Hunapo was actually known amongst fans of homoerotic werewolf action as 'Richard Hunter', Alin was 'Cezar Succescu', and Tino was 'Power Topi 'fire and death and a grenade up the arse' Sisu'.

Because, deep down, they were all still edgy thirteen year olds.

Hunapo yawned and stretched, standing up to massage their numb rear; they'd been sat at their desk all day, either writing or stopping to inhale and caress their new copy of Alpha Outcast Desire and now it was time to get something to eat and drink because self care was important. Self care was hydration and taking breaks from writing about knotted werewolf dicks.

They passed their mirror on their journey across the main room of their studio flat, past Flight of the Conchords CDs and tissue boxes and a cricket set and that one creepy sheep his cousin had brought for him that he didn't have the heart to throw away, even though it stared right into his soul. He glanced at his mop of brown hair, almost covering an admittedly wide head Tino often compared to a rugby ball, emerald orbs shimmering from underneath thick eyebrows. His muscular thighs contrasted quite starkly with his somewhat skinnier arms and torso, being the only part of his body he actually worked out. Hunapo squatted, okay?

There were, of course, his vast collection of moko tattoos, running down his thighs and arms and across his chest, which swelled with patriotic and cultural pride every time he saw them. All his tattoos were visible at the moment, due to the fact that he'd not bothered to put on anything besides a pair of boxers.

Okay, maybe he'd not actually washed any of his clothes in a week; he'd probably need to do that before going out later.

Hunapo made himself a Lemon and Paeroa, which technically didn't count as drinking before noon because it was summer and the rules were different in summer for some reason, especially during a heatwave. He got himself a glass of water for hydration too though, before putting on a wash to make sure he didn't violate public decency laws. Voyeurism and flashing people wasn't his thing - though it was probably Alin's. He had yet to find something Alin didn't find arousing, though he'd not asked about scat or golden showers for fear of what the answer would be.

Finally satisfied that he'd procrastinated on his writing long enough - something he tended to do even when he was on a roll - and now that the pins and needles had disappeared from his butt, Hunapo returned to his computer to continue Brett's steamy, smutty adventures.

…

So tonight was still on then. Luckily, as Hunapo was already a little tipsy and raring to get out and have some fun. Sure, Tino would probably want to talk more about that little boy he'd just adopted - and strangely suddenly too; Hunapo had to wonder why he and Berwald never mentioned they were planning to adopt a second child - and how he was getting along, and Alin would want to talk about fucking vampires, but they were his best friends and he liked spending time with him.

He kinda wished they'd cool off on the furry jokes though. He may be a furry, but at least he never had a twilight phase so there was that.

He'd had a Jacob Black poster, but never a full blown phase.

Right now though, Hunapo was wearing his favourite t shirt, one that showed off his other passion: rugby. The words 'ruck me, maul me, make me scrum' were emblazoned across it, words he vowed to live by. Complete with skinny jeans and an All Blacks snapback, he decided he was ready to go.

Being late was Tino and Alin's job, after all, not his.