Submission

'So that freaky hypnotising thing you do, how does it work?' Roman turned to look at Peter, an elegant eyebrow arched in disbelief. They were at his place, getting high and enjoying a moment's respite from the insanity of the grove. They'd been lying side by side on Roman's ridiculously large bed, staring absentmindedly at the ceiling while indulging in the comfortable silence only achievable among good friends. Well, the silence was broken now…

'What?' Peter turned on his side to meet Roman's confused stare, accepting the blunt when it was passed to him.

'Been curious about it for a while. Does it hurt? Your nose always bleeds afterwards.' Roman considered the questions for a moment.

In all honesty nobody had ever asked him about it before. Even Olivia who must have known what her son was capable of, having witnessed it with her own two devious eyes, didn't show much interest in it. She just acted like it was perfectly normal even though Roman couldn't name a single other kid his age who could compel a police officer to turn a blind eye after catching him getting a blowjob on the side of the road. For so long he'd thought he was the only freaky thing out there until Peter Rumancek wandered into his life out of the blue and he'd witnessed the glorious transformation from man to beast. Fuck, he'd never told Peter but he'd never seen anything more beautiful and sometimes when he was with a girl he thought of those gold eyes and razor sharp fangs.

'Nah, it doesn't hurt. It just drains me. Feels like I ran a mile on an empty stomach even if I just ate. Weird, huh?' Peter scoffed but he was paying attention to every word. He offered Roman his joint back and watched as he sucked in a deep, smoky breath.

'Yeah, between you and me I think I have a better authority on weird.' Roman rolled his eyes but didn't argue. Peter held back from adding for now. Sure he grew up with the truth of what was really lurking out there in the shadows from Upirs to Wargulfs to Witches but one day Roman would be privy to this knowledge too. One day he would understand the terrible creature he was born to be and Peter's heart shrank at the thought. He wished he could keep his friend in ignorant bliss but as a gypsy and a Gadjo at that he understood on a fundamental level the universe wasn't that kind. 'Did you ever use it for something bad? Like make someone hurt themselves or others?'

'No! Dude, what the hell's with those questions? How low is your opinion of me?' Roman regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. He was painfully aware what most people thought of him and he acted though but nobody wanted to be hated. If Peter held similar thoughts it would break something inside him, for good.

'That's the thing Roman. I have a much higher opinion of you than I'm supposed to because you're-' Peter nearly bit his own tongue off, his jaw snapped shut so quickly. He'd nearly called Roman an Upir. He looked at the drug between his fingers and decided he'd had enough so he passed it on to Roman but the other boy ignored the offer.

'I'm what? What were you going to say Peter? I'm what?' Peter shrugged it off, easily masking his panic into a nonplussed expression. As a gypsy he had to be quick on his feet and he had to lie with a silver tongue. Too many times it was the only thing which saved his life and he never felt guilty about surviving but he did feel guilty about lying to Roman. He kept telling himself it was for his own good, that only misery would follow once the Upir surfaced and began devouring the human. He understood that better than most. He understood how intoxicating that power was and how easy it would be to turn against the moon to get out of a sticky situation but then he would belong to the wolf and there was no returning from that.

'You're Roman Godfrey. You're my friend. You're a rich, spoiled brat with access to some seriously primo weed. My kind don't usually mix with yours, poor and rich rarely do. Both Lynda and Destiny told me to keep away but…' Peter glanced away, aware Roman was looking at him like he sometimes did when he thought he was being discreet. It didn't take a genius to recognise lust and maybe he had a more acute feel of Roman's lust because it echoed his own. Peter was simply a hell of a lot better at hiding it.

'Here you are.' Peter met his eyes once more.

'Here I am.' Roman finally took the weed and Peter relaxed once more. That had been far too close! The two leaned back and lapsed into silence again, each far too aware of the close proximity of the other.

'It wouldn't work on me, just so you know.' Roman sighed, not really surprised Peter broke the silence again. He couldn't picture the constantly motile gypsy sitting still or silent for more than a minute.

'What wouldn't?' Roman snuffed out the spent joint on a nearby ashtray.

'Your hypno shtick. It won't work on me.' Roman chuckled and turned his head to meet Peter's strikingly blue eyes.

'Why not?' Roman whined mockingly and Peter had to scoff at that.

'Because of the wolf. You might get me under your spell but he won't submit that easily. It's one of the good parts about being superhuman.' Peter knew for a fact this to be true. Roman was not the first Upir he'd had the misfortune of running into though he was the first he got to actually know.

He'd once been cornered by a gang of lads determined to take out their pent up aggression on the lone gypsy boy who sure deserved it because he must have been a thief or rapist or something equally damned. The leader of those idiots had turned out to be an Upir, something Peter hadn't realized until he'd run for his life to lose his pursuers. He'd assumed he was safe and that's when he felt a hand grab him by the scruff of his neck and throw him against a wall with clearly inhuman strength. He'd thought he was a gonner but he guessed someone had said a quick prayer of protection for him because the Upir compelled him to stand still and forget the night. Then he bit him, fed on him but his spell hadn't worked. Peter remembered every second of it and he'd been forced to stand still as that creature drained his life force within an inch of killing him. Had it been the full moon Peter would have gotten his revenge but the change was weeks away. All he could do was crawl back to Lynda and they left with their tails tucked between their legs as was the way of their people. But he'd survived and learned to be smarter… In theory anyway.

'How can you know that for sure?'

'I've met people who can do what you do before. Destiny can do something similar but her compulsion requires extra ingredients and she doesn't bleed like a faucet.'

'It's barely a trickle.' Roman thought for a moment before he spoke again. 'Maybe I'm special. There's a first for everything.'

'You're special alright. And you're high.' Roman rolled his eyes. He was getting accustomed to Peter's defence mechanism of avoiding and deflecting whenever he was put in an uncomfortable position. Peter thought he didn't notice but Roman was a lot more observant than given credit, especially when it came to the gypsy boy. 'I'll let you try it if you want…' At first Roman missed the whispered words but they replayed inside his head and he sat up, gawking at Peter.

'And what if you're wrong and it does work? Won't that be an invasion of privacy?' Peter sat up as well, keeping the distance between them to a minimum.

'That depends on what you'll ask me to do.' Both of them leaned a little closer into the space separating them, though neither seemed aware of it.

'If it won't work anyway you have nothing to fear.' The taunt was unmistakable. Peter chuckled but it was a little forced. It suddenly dawned on him how close they were, close enough for Peter to smell the scotch Roman had enjoyed before Peter showed up at his door. It was spicy and intoxicating and Peter suddenly craved a taste.

'Yeah, okay. Give it your best shot.' Roman grinned like he'd won something priceless. He stood up without warning and walked to the bedroom door, making sure it was locked. 'Well that's not ominous…' Satisfied, Roman turned back to Peter, leaning against the solid mass of the door as he regarded the other boy. It was fairly obvious where this was going and he knew Peter was intuitive enough to hit the bull's eye. This was his last chance to back out but to Roman's delight Peter stayed silent.

'Wouldn't want to be interrupted.' Peter ran a hand through his shaggy hair and Roman recognized his tell-tale sign of anxiety.

'So? What's your wish then?' Roman licked his lips, the sensuous movement openly followed by Peter's darkening eyes. He levelled his gaze, drawing the other's attention back to him and let that familiar yet inexplicable power run through him. He could already feel the blood rise and boil inside him. 'Fuck me. Right here, right now against this door. Fuck me Peter.' He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, resisting the urge to lick his own blood.

Roman watched with ravenous eyes as Peter slowly rose to his feet and moved towards him like a string on a puppet. It seemed the gypsy had underestimated him and Roman looked forwards to making fun of him on that account, later. Now he was far too preoccupied with following Peter's approach, inhaling his exotic scent when he got close enough. He leaned to catch Peter's lips in a kiss but the other turned his head, going for his throat instead, licking a wet strip up his jugular all the way along his angular jaw. Roman hummed in approval, losing himself in the heat of that wicked tongue. He felt Peter kiss up to his ear and his teeth nipped playfully at his earlobe, the stubble scratching his clean shaved skin in a shockingly pleasant sensation. He'd never had the hots for a guy before so he'd never imagined facial hair would be such a turn on but if there was one thing he could count on Peter for, it was turning his whole world upside down.

'Sorry Roman. You'll have to try harder than that.' Roman's eyes snapped open and he stared in open disbelief at Peter who had a teasing smirk dancing on his lips.

'You were pretending?...' Roman was beyond disappointed but he had to admit he'd been had.

'Not… Really. You didn't make me do anything I didn't want to do.' Not for the first time Roman noticed Peter's long lashes and this close he could only call the other boy beautiful. 'Care to try again?' Roman shook his head, words failing him at first.

'I don't think I need to.' To prove his point Roman pressed his knee between Peter's legs, feeling the growing hardness. 'Or do you just like seeing me bleed?' Peter grinned and rubbed against Roman's knee, realizing he looked like a dog in heat and not caring.

'Shut up.' This time he gave Roman what he wanted and kissed him fiercely on the lips. Immediately Roman's fingers tangled through the unruly locks, surprised at how soft they were. He'd wanted to cart his fingers through that hair since the first time he'd seen Peter shift into a majestic wolf. The thought of that night alone made his heart skip a beat and he practically tore Peter's shirt in his haste to undress him.

Peter was far calmer than Roman, though no less saturated with lust. Instead of risking damage to clothes which probably cost more than the trailer he lived in plus everything inside, Peter unbuttoned Roman's shirt with daft fingers one by one until he settled his palm on the other boy's bare stomach. He felt cool to the touch and it was a relief against his own overheated flesh. While carefully pushing the shirt down Roman's long limbs Peter kissed down his neck and along his collarbone, delving his tongue in the hollow of the connecting bones. It was like making out with marble, cold and unblemished and he kissed up along the ridges of Roman's exposed throat. He wondered if the other boy realized how dangerous it was to bare his throat so carelessly to a wolf. He also wondered if Roman understood what a turn on it was, especially since neither was ignorant about Peter's true nature.

In fact, Roman was mirroring his thoughts almost as if their dream connection had bled into their waking hours. He closed his eyes, losing himself in the feel of Peter's tongue on his Addam's apple, his mind swarmed with images of ivory fangs dripping with fresh blood. He couldn't understand it yet but he'd always had a strange kink for blood and the idea of Peter savouring him in that way had his hips bucking wildly. He felt Peter's fingers on the buckle of his belt and he heard it come undone, followed by his zipper and finally his suddenly far too tight trousers were pushed down his thighs. Even the thin, silk material of his boxers were too much of a discomfort and Roman would have gotten rid of them if he could only remember how to make his limbs work properly. Peter's biting kisses, now on his shoulder, had his brain disconnected from his body and he leaned down to bury his nose in the earthy scent of his hair. Everything about the gypsy was untamed, wild and raw. Roman could smell the danger and allure of unexplored forests so alien to his cosy life yet so desirable.

Peter moved his mouth down the perfectly sculpted chest, taking his time to kiss along every rib before kneeling in front of his best friend. He glanced up at Roman who met his eyes, disbelief and longing so openly etched on his perfectly aristocratic features. He was sure the other had been on the receiving end of a blowjob too many times to count but he could tell Peter stood out among the previous encounters. It pleased him and made him feel oddly possessive of the other. As a gypsy, possessiveness was a completely foreign concept to him and he couldn't place it at first until a voice howled one word inside his mind. Mine. It was so loud, so undeniable and so true Peter instinctively understood it come from the wolf and the wolf wouldn't be denied. The realization scared him but not enough to make him stop. He was too desperate to possess the beautiful creature with the potential for such ugliness yet still so innocent and he wouldn't be denied either.

The moment Peter kissed the crown of his cock Roman felt the seams holding whatever semblance of his sanity together come undone. Fuck, he'd had so many wet dreams about the wandering boy prostrating himself before him but to stare into those ridiculously mesmerising eyes as his erection was swallowed bit by bit into the hot cavern of that pretty mouth was to get a taste of heaven. This had all started with a dare to bewitch Peter but Roman wasn't entirely sure he wasn't the one who ended up succumbing to some strange magic. He carted his fingers through the boy's hair, pushing it off his forehead so he could see Peter's face better and slumped further against the door as obscene sounds filled the room. The way Peter's wet mouth moved along his length made him see red for a brief second, painfully aware nobody got that good at sucking cock without some serious practice but he forgot his jealousy when Peter hummed deep in his throat. He cursed, nearly coming right then and there and chased the thrilling vibrations by bucking his hips, forcing the tip of his cock all the way down Peter's accepting throat. The werewolf could have stopped him but instead only continued to look up at him as he moaned louder every time his dick hit the back of his throat.

'Fuck! Peter… Too fucking hot!...' It wasn't the best warning but it was all Roman managed. Peter's fingers dug into his thighs and Roman was sure he would push him away before he burst but he sucked harder instead and the Godfrey heir was lost. A ragged gasp escaped him as he felt his release burn through him and he nearly knocked himself out when the back of his head banged against the door.

Peter felt some of Roman's cum run down his lip and he swiped a tongue out to catch it. He took a moment to catch his own breath before standing, satisfied with his work. Roman looked like he was barely keeping himself vertical, his eyes still closed as he rasped short breaths. He looked like a renaissance painting of sinful debauchery and Peter felt a thrill at his hand in bringing the usually composed, cold boy to this erotic state. Shaking his head, forcing himself to focus, he tore away from the positively pornographic sight with some difficulty to quickly search the bedside drawers. He hit the jackpot almost immediately and fished out the tub of lubricant and a condom, having been certain someone like Roman had to have some around. Roman's eyes were fluttering open by the time he pressed up against him once more, locking their lips and guiding the longer legs around his waist for better purchase. Emulating another deadly sin, Peter greedily swallowed Roman's wonderfully needy moans as he blindly coated his fingers. His movements were a bit awkward but he doubted Roman noticed from the way he was sucking his tongue into his mouth.

Roman couldn't get enough of Peter, his smell, his taste, his touch. He gasped in surprise when he felt the deft fingers probe at his entrance, the coldness of the lube not an altogether unpleasant sensation. Peter kissed reassuringly along his jaw as he began pushing inside and Roman gasped against his shoulder. The digit entered him easily enough and Roman felt his insides quake when Peter began thrusting in and out of him, slowly and carefully opening him wider until there were three fingers making him beg for Peter to give him more. He turned to meet the wolf's calming kiss, each tiny movement sending electric sparks through his achingly hard cock. It was rubbing against Peter's and he couldn't comprehend how the other boy was keeping it together so well when he, a notorious Casanova, felt like he'd been pushed into the mouth of an active volcano. He almost cried in relief when the fingers left him and Peter guided him up against the door so he could line the tip of his erection with his twitching hole. He hated the emptiness but he didn't have to wait long before he felt his nervous system light up like a Christmas tree as inch by inch Peter drove into him.

'Fuck you're so hot Roman. So fucking tight and beautiful.' Peter had to take a second to calm his drumming pulse. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so connected to someone else. Sex for him had been plentiful and fun, but he'd never felt more beyond the physical. This felt different and it was so incredibly perfect.

Roman had never been called beautiful before. Maybe some girls said it behind his back but the word sounded almost like an insult coming from their chagrined mouths. The way Peter said it… It was everything to him and he felt a painful skip in his chest. He whined, letting the other boy know he was ready for him to move. When he caught the adoring gaze focused wholly on him that pain in his chest returned with a vengeance and he wondered if his heart didn't just burst inside its bony cage. Fuck, was this what love felt like? It wasn't as sappy as he'd heard in a dozen songs but it was visceral. He hugged Peter closer to him and the other kissed him, literally stealing his breath away.

The werewolf set a steady pace, rocking Roman's body against the harsh wood, making an ungodly amount of noise. If anyone was in the house there was no way they couldn't tell what the rhythmic banging and creaking coming from his bedroom meant and if they did have doubts then the encouraging scrams for more and harder would take care of that. Peter was giving him exactly what he'd wanted, even without the mind control because they were already that much in sync. Roman was close again. He could feel the tightening in his stomach reach a breaking point. He called out broken syllables meant to spell Peter's name every time the movement of their bodies caused friction against his member.

From the way Peter's hips drilled even harder into him he could tell the other boy was also reaching his climax. Their gazes locked and Roman couldn't look away, gasping their shared breaths with the desperation of a drowning man. When Roman came, he did so with a primal force which shook his whole body. For a moment he forgot how to draw oxygen into his lungs and he clutched at Peter's back with clawing fingers. The tremble he felt reverberating through his fingertips let him know Peter was on the ledge himself and once his mind caught up enough to string a sentence he pressed a kiss to the werewolf's ear, grazing the lobe with his incisors.

'Peter… Fill me up. Fucking mark me.' He felt the heat flood him and he left deeper welts into the gypsy's shoulder blades while Peter responded by sinking his teeth into his flesh. They shook against one another for a good while, neither ready to leave the other. Roman doubted he could even stand properly on his own.

'Sheeet.' Peter chuckled against the skin of his throat, his breath instantly raising gosebumps.

'Sheeet.' Finally the werewolf took a step back, offering his support to Roman, who moved on shaky limbs like a new-born calf, without needing to be asked. Roman accepted the embrace around his waist leading him to the bed silently but gratefully. He was especially thankful when Peter joined him on the bed, nuzzling and kissing softly along his arm.

'Damn Rumancek. You got moves.' Peter smirked, looking down at Roman with that adoring look still present.

'Coming from you that's a real compliment. You're not bad yourself Godfrey.' Roman grinned at him, sated and fucked and for the first time in a long while truly happy. He felt lighter, like he belonged there in that moment with that strange and mysterious boy. He'd never felt like he belonged anywhere before but with Peter it was the most natural fit.

'Maybe next time you can show me your moves?' Roman blinked and Peter found that transitory deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression insanely adorable. Destiny would call him a fool for forgetting for even a second the bloodcurdling horror stories told around his childhood campfires about creatures with unhinged, gaping maws and insatiable hunger for the living. To call one of those harbingers of death adorable or beautiful was probably on par with blasphemy to his people but Peter didn't care. Roman was different. Roman was beautiful and though he was terrified of the day his best friend found his true nature, he knew deep down he would continue to be pulled towards him like a tide under the magnetic sway of the moon.

'Next time? There's going to be a next time?' Peter rolled his eyes.

'What do you think? After getting a taste of you do you really think I can just leave it at that? Fuck Roman, when it comes to you I want everything.' Peter hoped he wasn't coming on too strong but he knew life was too short to beat around the bush indefinitely. He wanted Roman and he knew Roman wanted him just as much so why play coy now?

'You already have everything.' Roman reached for him and pulled him in a loving kiss, tasting a hint of his own blood from when Peter bit his shoulder. Even though he was ready to close his eyes and drop into a restful sleep with Peter's arms wound tightly around him, Roman felt tendrils of awakening arousal rippling down his body.

'Are you seriously getting hard again?' Roman shrugged.

'Take it as a compliment.'

'The house's still empty so…' Roman didn't have to ask how the wolf, with his enhanced hearing, knew this and he laughed.

'Down boy. Some of us are human and don't have your ridiculous stamina. Is that a werewolf thing?' Peter shrugged and settled down beside Roman, running his fingers up and down his chest, content to feel his heartbeat for now.

'Maybe. Maybe I'm just that good in bed.'

'And now I know modesty is not a werewolf thing. Are you staying over tonight?' There was a hitch in Roman's voice and Peter's sharp hearing caught it. Those were the sort of cute things nobody saw about the Godfrey boy and Peter felt his inner wolf rumble in approval.

'Only if you have more of that weed.' Roman opened the nearest drawer and pulled out an already rolled joint. He offered it to Peter with a wide grin. 'That's settled then. Pass me a lighter.' Roman watched the tiny flame before his eyes were inevitably drawn to Peter's puffing lips.

'I think I'm ready to show you my moves now.' It was Peter's turn to grin as he passed the weed back to its owner.

'Bring it Godfrey. I'm curious if you live up to all the hype.' Roman placed the joint in the ashtray, making sure to put it out so as not to waste the good stuff, before he flipped Peter onto his back. Having the gypsy crane his neck to chase his lips with that ravenous look back in his eyes was the ultimate high.

'Don't worry Rumancek. The hype doesn't live up to me.'