Wolf Moon

Abby Ebon

SummaryBday present for Aki Kochou Enzan has a secret…of the darker kind. He is a werewolf; you'd think that'd be hard enough to get a handle on – save that it's the red moon - the werewolfmating moon. Lost in a forest, with only Netto for company – what's a werewolf to do? Enzan x Netto.

Warnings: Male/male sex – and for my peace of mind, they are over 18.

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In Need of Touch

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When Netto returned to their camp, it was near evening and he smelt burning flesh – he knew it wasn't something caught in one of their traps (he'd just checked them and was under the impression everything on this island was too damned smart, but he was biased, and his stomach growling) – it was logical, he supposed, to burn the body rather then let it decompose and attract animals. It didn't make the thought anymore pleasant. When he went into the broken remains of the plane, he found Enzan hard at work attempting to –again – repair the components that made up the plane, if only for a bit of power.

That left Netto with nothing to do – which was something he wasn't used to. At home there had been chores when there weren't battles to be fought – or school, or weekends spent with friends. Here, there was none of that – it was "annoyingly peaceful" with a dash of "we might die soon" to add a bit of spice to the mix.

What, he wondered, could possibly count as "normal conversation" in this situation? Talk of home would make him wonder if they missed him, if they knew yet where the plane went down - in other words, helpless and vaguely depressed. Talk of rescue or sending SOS's would make him anxious – or "twitchy" as Enzan had claimed.

Ands talk of…of the dog he had spotted, well Netto knew where that led to.

"Why are you so afraid of that dog I saw last night?" The words blurted out of his mouth before he could think to stop them. He could tell quickly by the tenseness in his shoulders, the set of his jaw – that had been the wrong question to ask Enzan.

"When I was a boy, I was attacked by one." Enzan answered, hands twitching as he pushed the ruined radio and other bits of scattered technology away from him. Slowly, he stood, turning to face Netto who watched him from one of the two whole seats in the crashed plane.

"O-oh." Netto murmured regretfully as Enzan moved toward him in movements that seemed graceful – or as least as graceful as a deadly could get – Enzan paused as he reached Netto, leaning into the boys face. If he was invading personal space – he didn't care – Netto had asked a personal question.

"Why are you so curious about me all of a sudden, Netto?" Enzan asked softly, and Netto shivered – not in fear, for the other boy, while intimidating had always fascinated him. No, he shivered because the sensation of Enzan's breath against his skin made him lick his lips, glancing away least the other boy catch a glimpse of the lust that glittered in his eyes.

"I've always…uh," aware of how this would sound, Netto swallowed and looked the other boy in the eye, "I've always wanted to know you, Enzan – there, there just didn't seem to be time to get to know you as much as I would have hoped." Netto's lips were parted, glistening with saliva, and his cheeks flushed.

He makes quite the pretty picture. The back of the seat that Enzan had held onto while he leaned into the other boys face indented as he gripped it harder, trying to maintain control of his body after the errant thought had gripped him.

"Why?" It was a question, yes, but it was one Netto knew he could not ignore. If he did he knew he would risk Enzan's friendship – risk loosing him forever.

"Why d-do I want to know you?" Netto clarified, or just repeated to get a grip on the territory he was crossing into, in either case, Enzan nodded in agreement. Netto could lie – but, he didn't want to. Something told him that this close, Enzan would know it for a lie. So he didn't lie.

"Because…because there is something about you Enzan – something I think I need…" Netto finished, seeming to realize the implication, he flushed and began to turn his face away.

Enzan gripped his chin, maintaining eye contact, hearing Netto's frantic heartbeat his own body responding to the lust that lingered in Netto's eyes.

"I need you too." Enzan admitted softly, a finger stroking the smooth skin cupped in his hand.

Netto watched, immobile; as Enzan leaned down to kiss him, the soft brush of lips against his over sensitive ones made Netto make an embarrassingly needy sound. Enzan growled low in his throat, and the kiss became possessive, pushing tongue and teeth against Netto's all too willing mouth. The hand that cupped Netto's jaw moved lightly – brushing the vulnerable curve of his throat, only to hold the back of his neck protectively – fingers tangling in Netto's hair, making the younger boy give a slight hitch in breath – a soft moan.

A shudder rippled through Enzan as Netto gripped his shoulder, the wolf barely in check.

"Enzan…" It was a whisper, it was Netto. His Netto.

"Enzan?" Netto's lips hadn't moved. He shook, wanting to deny it – but knowing, as his consciousness surfaced, that this was a dream. He opened his eyes to see Netto hovering over him worriedly. Enzan had stretched out in the seat, wanting a nap – he remembered that now. It wasn't fair.

"What is it Netto?" If his voice was husky, Netto didn't seem to notice – the younger boy only smiled.

"I cooked the fish, come on – supper is almost ready." Netto was cheerful; likely because of the small success of cooking had given Netto some confidence.

Fish? Where had they gotten fish? Enzan found himself asking the second question aloud.

"I caught some when I was out." Netto answered as he left the plane – and Enzan could smell smoke, and fish. At least they hadn't gotten burnt. In the corner of his eye, Enzan spotted the white death shroud they had given the pilot. The dream had least offered an answer to what they could do with the body. Burn it – or bury it, they had to do something about that soon.

"Here you go!" Netto was being far too cheerful, not looking him in the eyes – something was wrong.

"Netto…" It was a warning – a question, and Netto froze. His back was too Enzan, and Enzan wished for a moment that he could see the other boys face.

"I…I heard you…you moaned my name." It was quiet – yet dared Enzan to deny what Netto thought was the truth.

"I can't control my unconscious, Netto." A statement – a fact, although coldly spoken. Netto turned to him, and Enzan found himself silenced in the face of the other boy's intensity.

"That – that isn't what I meant, I'm flattered…but…but how long have you…?" Netto asked, flushed – and Enzan was struck by how much this Netto – the real Netto he wanted – just then resembled the one from his dream.

"How long have I been having wet dreams about you?" Enzan finished bluntly, Netto drew in a quick breath, and Enzan felt his lips twitch in amusement. For being the one to ask – Netto was being awfully shy.

"Couple times a month." Enzan answered, for it was true as the red-moon made it so, though Netto needn't know that.

"Why…why didn't you tell me?" Netto was most assuredly hurt, as if it was some sort of betrayal on Enzan's part.

"What would you have done if I had?" Enzan asked pointedly as Netto sat down beside him, he still had that at least – it wasn't as if Netto could run from him on this island. Slowly, Netto set down his plastic plate and the whole-fish-on-a-stick. Turned to him, just looking at him – for a moment, Enzan thought perhaps this was the dream – for Netto looked lovely by the firelight, and he had never looked at Enzan with such intent in his eyes.

Moving too quickly for Enzan to stop – even if he had wanted to – he found Netto atop him, straddling him – flushed by the heat of the fire, or perhaps by the surge of lust pulling at him – Netto leaned down and kissed Enzan.

It was not like the kiss in the dream – it was better, and Netto was a much more active participant, his slick tongue dancing against Enzan's own as if…as if a equal. He reached for Netto, holding the younger – bolder – boy against him, Netto made a soft sound – not quite a moan, but not unlike a whimper.

A thrust of hips, and the feel of a hard groin against his thigh was answer enough. It was the first time Enzan had found himself in such a situation, and all he later recalled was frantic kisses dancing on hurtful with the shows of possessiveness – of bold touches, stroking – Netto's tongue dancing against the tip of his cock – holding the other boy down, touching themselves together as they reached the desperate climax, his semen coating the other boys stomach. They must have gotten clean – or at least attempted it, the taste of fish on his tongue. Then he remembered holding Netto as fire warmed them and the sun's colors faded from Netto's pale skin, body heat and fire was what kept them warm, and it was enough.

They had made an effort to dress – though it really wasn't much of one, Netto had his boxers on – and Enzan had his pants. He had thought Netto asleep – soft deep breathing lulling him into a doze.

He was safe – he had Netto – it was the best feeling in the world.

Then he felt the wolf howl mockingly – his heartbeat loud in his own ears. Carefully, hoping not to wake Netto, he moved away. Netto stirred, and Enzan murmured a reassurance – go back to sleep, I just need to go to the bathroom. He heard his heartbeat again, slipped away running into the night, hopping as he pulled off his pants, hoping only to get far enough away from Netto that the wolf would not smell him. Would not come to the camp to investigate whose semen he was covered in.

His chest quivered, his skin seeming to reject him. His heart beat a third time – this was the last night of the red moon, and he had no control. The wolf howled, smelling and knowing what Enzan had been trying to hide.

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Netto woke to the feeling of being watched. He thought it might be Enzan, and, smiling he opened his eyes. It was chance that put his face to the forest edge and the fire to his back. He saw the "dogs" grey-blue eyes – it howled, and he knew it to be no dog. It was a wolf. He froze with fear, and the wolf came closer, trotting to him – as if it knew him – recognized him.

The wolf came to hover over him, its wicked teeth closer to his face then Netto had ever wanted to chance to his life. He closed his eyes – forcing the fear that threatened to make him scream – if he started to scream now, he didn't think he'd ever stop.

"Enzan…" He whispered, wishing the other boy knew he loved him – he'd never told him. Now he feared he'd never get the chance. The wolf licked his face; blue-grey eyes met his own for a moment. He thought he saw recognition show in them.

The teeth met his flesh – and there was pain, so much that Netto yelled. Then there was something else – within his own mind something took root, overtook him in his surprise – Netto found his own body all at once reject him, and he changed – it was painful, yet somehow he managed to keep control of his mind. He was stronger then that something – though it knew what was happening, he did not.

At the feet of a white wolf with blue-grey eyes, a black wolf whimpered softly, opened green eyes, and knew what he was. Knew the white wolf was Enzan – and he was Netto, and when the white wolf nipped at his ear playfully, Netto yipped, a paw swiping out. He found he was a werewolf – and did not mind. Under the red moon, the two played – which blurred into wrestling, which became fucking.

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AN; I've resoled to finish this by the end of the month (no this is not the end) – rejoice and review. Please?