A/N: A longer chapter than usual because there is no way to split it without losing the suspense. Back in the past for John's first change and something more developing. I've watched a lot of wolves fighting today to try and get this right so hopefully it's good!
Chapter 9
John was sprawled on the hard floor of the hospital room completely naked. He tried to press as much of his burning skin against the cold vinyl, moving his limbs slightly to roll as much of his body against the blessed chill, but it still felt like a million electric ants crawled beneath his surface and he could get no relief. The door opened, closed, and he whimpered, a pathetic desperate sound. Shiny dress shoes stopped close to his head and navy fine wool clad legs hunkered down beside him, one cool hand resting briefly against his perspiration drenched forehead and then stroking over his hair. "John?" he said softly.
"Myc…" John's voice was a rough croak, lower than normal with the edge of a growl. He coughed, trying to clear the coarse edge from his speech, pressing his cheek to the floor and casting dazed eyes as far up the other man's body as he could without raising his head. They settled around the third button of his navy waistcoat, same navy wool as the trousers. The jacket would match too.
"Sh, don't try to speak. I'm here, and I'm staying. I just need to make some preparations ok? I'm not leaving the room." John nodded, closing his eyes and moving his arms above his head so a different few square inches of skin pressed against the floor. Mycroft removed his shoes and socks and placed them neatly by the door, then took off his jacket, waistcoat and trousers, hanging them all carefully in the tiny wardrobe locker in the corner of the room. His tie was rolled and tucked into one of his shoes, and then he unbuttoned his shirt and allowed it to hang loose. Dressed only in his shirt and underwear he moved back into John's eye line and crouched beside him. "How are you doing? You're sweating a lot, which isn't good. How long have you been like this?"
John whimpered again and shook his head, unable to process the questions all at once. "It hurts. Should it?"
"Yes. I'm sorry. Your whole body is trying to reconfigure itself into something completely new. It won't be pain free. I can't give you drugs to help but I can try to help in other ways if you'll let me?" John looked at him, eyes widening slightly as he realised Mycroft had undressed. It was somehow more shocking than being naked himself. Mycroft looked down at his bare chest framed by the open edges of the shirt and tried to see himself as someone else might – as John might. He detested his pale pink skin with its liberal dusting of freckles and smattering of golden-red hair, but his appearance hardly mattered right at this moment with John in such distress. "You sent the nurse away. Can you tell me why?"
"She smelled like… food…" John ground out, swallowing against the burn in his throat. "Was afraid… I'd hurt her..." Mycroft nodded and stroked his hand across John's hair again, watching for a lessening in the tension of the muscles of his back. "What are you doing?" It was a genuine query out of curiosity, nothing to indicate John felt uncomfortable with his actions.
"Touch can help, but I can stop?" John twitched his head to indicate 'no', so Mycroft continued, first smoothing his hand over the surface of his damp hair, then sinking his fingers into the dark blond strands and rubbing the pads of his fingers across John's scalp. John moaned under his breath, and it wasn't a sound of pain, but equally it wasn't a good noise for John to be making under these circumstances. Arousal could speed the change, and Mycroft wanted this one, John's first, to be as controlled as possible. Reluctantly he withdrew his touch and collected a bottle of water from the stand by the bed.
"Can you drink? If I sit you up can you take some water?" John pushed himself onto his side and propped onto one elbow, but that was as far as he could move before the pain in his limbs turned him to a statue. "Come on, grit your teeth." Mycroft settled behind him and looped his hands beneath the smaller man's arms, then with one heave he pulled John back and up until he lay between his legs, propped against his chest. John's agonized scream echoed around the small room and made the elder Holmes ears ring. The water was heavenly though, ice cold and fresh. John gulped at it too quickly making himself choke and spit mouthfuls down his chest. "Easy," soothed Mycroft, one hand helping to hold the bottle, the other stroking his hair once more. He couldn't help touching him, it was a need to give and receive comfort during stressful times that came from his wolf. "That's enough for now."
John's back burned against his chest causing a sheen of sweat to spring up all over the tall man's body. He manoeuvred the doctor's head so it rested against his shoulder, his own collar bone fitting perfectly into the curve of John's neck and supporting his head. Mycroft knew he shouldn't be thinking about how perfect they fit. He shouldn't even be in this room. There were Pack members who had experience of seeing a new wolf through his first change and who would be better equipped to help John but he had sent them away because he couldn't bear to think of anyone but himself touching this man.
Mycroft closed his eyes and for the hundredth time tried to make sense of his feelings. The attraction was unmistakably the Alpha wolf. The huge body of his other vibrated with possessive need for the promise of the wolf he could sense approaching, but wolves were not homosexual. That desire could only come from him alone and it had never been known for human preferences to overrule the sexual behaviour of their wolves. The animal instinct was for reproduction not pleasure so they always sought the opposite sex.
John groaned. "Myc... You're squeezing me..."
"Oh, sorry." He released him slightly but didn't unwind his arms from John's waist. If things went wrong this may be his only opportunity to hold the small man close. He'd undressed for practical reasons - if John's change triggered his own there was no sense in ruining a perfectly good suit - but selfishly he had wanted to feel the touch of John's body against his naked skin. He clearly hadn't taken the time to consider the consequences however. His growing arousal pressed against the small of John's back and the younger man couldn't fail to notice, particularly when he painfully drew his knees up, using the leverage to push his upper body into a more upright position against Mycroft, aligning his tailbone with the bulge in the politician's pants. "Sorry," he apologised again, flushing crimson.
"Don't be, but your timing sucks," John said roughly, grimacing against another wave of agony. "If you're going to distract me... Ungh! Words... Describe change... Argh!" He threw himself forward, bent almost double and rolled over Mycroft's leg onto his hands and knees, panting like he'd sprinted a mile. When he raised his head enough to meet Mycroft's eyes the other man could see his wolf staring back. His own wolf rose and began trotting towards them.
"He's close to the surface John. Can you feel him? Tell me how it feels."
"My legs... Urgh... Fuck... My legs and arms... I can feel bone grinding and twisting..." He looked down at his arms braced on the floor but on the surface they were unchanged. "My face... Fuck Myc it hurts..." He was openly sobbing now, with no care for what the other man thought of him. He had only once experienced this level of agony when he was shot in the shoulder and that had been localised pain - bad enough, the worse feeling he had ever dealt with, but deal with it he had, puffing breaths like steam train until the medic's analgesia had taken away the worst of it. This was a thousand times magnified, wracking every part of his body with a burn that originated deep within and was trying to fight its way out.
Mycroft was on his knees in front of him encouraging him to embrace it. The other man cradled his face in his hands and held him steady, his blue eyes somehow no longer human in his beautiful face. There was dominance there but also care and concern. "Free it John, I'm with you. I won't let it harm you." He dropped his face to John's pressing their mouths together in a touch was both human kiss and wolf nuzzle.
The sandy wolf sprang from the darkness of John's mind, surging up to the surface and launched itself at the huge red-coated beast that dared to declare its dominance over him. The two men fell to the floor, John on top of the taller man taking him by surprise with his strength and agility, but Mycroft had earned his place as Alpha and was a skilled fighter. Even as John's strong human hands closed around his throat Mycroft was turning beneath him, presenting his back and protecting his vulnerable underside. His neck broadened and thick fur burst from his skin in a wash of searing heat that forced the smaller man to leap backwards with an inhuman yelp. The red wolf bounded into him shouldering him to the floor and snapping at the weak human throat beneath him, but John thrust a knee upward upsetting his balance and his teeth closed short. Let it go or I will kill you! The command screamed through his mind tainted with Mycroft's panic that he could easily hurt the doctor. John's human mouth lunged for the forepaw closest to his head and his body burst apart, fur and fluids spilling from him as the wolf finally gained its freedom.
He was a wild angry force of muscle, teeth and claws fighting for his life against a bigger, more experienced opponent. Mycroft relinquished his hold on his human mind and became the true Alpha disciplining a newcomer to the Pack. The wolves clashed in mid-air, snarling and slashing with their forepaws at their softer bellies, crashing into the metal side of the hospital bed hard enough to send it skidding across the floor a few feet. Mycroft went down, John on top of him, his jaws biting down on the red wolf's shoulder, but his claws could find no purchase on the smooth vinyl floor, so he lost his footing when Mycroft twisted into him.
The bigger wolf cuffed him hard sending him sprawling into the corner and pouncing on his back, pinning him with his full weight, but the walls either side left them awkwardly penned. The sandy wolf bucked underneath him, growling deep in his throat, but Mycroft had no intention of releasing him until he accepted his dominance. He risked shifting his weight, hunkering down so his hind legs and lower body pressed the other wolf to the floor, but his head and chest rose above him. The other wolf didn't move, maintaining his low position and growling softly. Submit, he commanded.
He waited, panting hard above his smaller challenger. Cautiously Mycroft wriggled backwards away from the confining walls, easing his body away from John who lay tensely, facing the wall. His tail swished angrily between Mycroft's forepaws but otherwise he was still. He stood and backed away slowly, waiting for the other wolf to act. Years of experience told him it wasn't this easy to put a new wolf in his place but John let him get six feet clear before he jumped at the wall using the vertical surface, thrusting his strong legs against it and propelling himself from the corner to crash into the other once more. His teeth caught Mycroft's muzzle making him yelp, and drawing blood, but his hold wasn't secure enough and they broke apart snarling.
Mycroft had had enough of the little upstart who clearly thought his challenge was worthy of the Alpha. He launched himself at John, flipping him onto his back and closing hard on his throat, letting him feel the sharp points of his canines bite. His forelegs lay over the pale-yellow of his belly, his hindquarters tense and tail stiff. Submit, he ordered again, allowing one tooth to graze his skin. John whined, and stopped struggling, tail tucking between his legs. He lifted his head presenting more of his throat to the Alpha, in a final abrupt act of submission.
Mycroft smelled satisfied as he rose, allowing John to roll onto his belly. The sandy wolf licked at Mycroft's muzzle, cleaning away the blood that stained his reddish fur a brighter shade of red while Mycroft stood over him, his belly brushing lightly against John's broad back, their tails wagging gently. When John had finished cleaning him Mycroft pushed his head under John's seeking the spot his tooth had pierced and licking over it. John fell onto his side, sprawling on the floor looking content to have the bigger wolf licking at his vulnerable throat. Mine, he sent possessively.
Yours, John agreed.