Howl At The Moon: MM Shifter Romance

by Primrose, Ella

  By midnight, Cassius was completely drunk. Propped up on a stool, half slumped against the wall, he watched in disbelief as Jonas pounded back yet another drink. The man was quite a bit shorter than he was, but somehow, he held himself together, with little indication that he was even intoxicated in the slightest.

  “Another!” Jonas yelled, shoving a shot glass into Cassius’s hand. He laughed and tried to turn it down. Between the pounding music and the seven or so drinks he’d consumed in the last couple of hours, his head was spinning.

  He waved a hand at his friend, unsteady in his chair, words jumbling together in his throat. “Naw, man. I’m done.”

  Jonas snorted dismissively, “Whatever, Cass! Don’t give me that! You’re a giant. You can handle a couple more shots. Let’s do this!”

  “Seriously, I think I need to step outside,” he said, less slurred that time. He pushed himself up from his seat and awkwardly stumbled to his feet, lacking any and all coordination which might indicate that he was a professional athlete. “Shit. It feels like the room is rocking back and forth.”

  “I can’t hear you, bro!” His companion laughed, slapping his shoulder as he wobbled past. “Go get some fresh air. Take a minute. I’ll be here.”

  Cassius nodded and staggered to the door, inhaling the warm night air as he tried to clear his head. The music seemed to permeate from the building itself, making his headache even worse. Without really thinking about it, he decided that a short walk around the block might be just what he needed to feel in charge of his senses again.

  Blanca was a whole other beast at night. During daylight hours it was your typical island city, with beautiful architectures mingling with more modern charms. It was warm, welcoming, sunny and bright. Cassius could certainly see the appeal of such a place, even if Rockfort would always be home for him. At night, though, the city was something else.

  Those sweeping old buildings which gave Blanca an eclectic sense of character now seemed haunting and abandoned in the dark, out of place with the newer office buildings dotting the skyline. There was a sense of history to the city, the feeling that something old and sacred had been bulldozed and buried for the sake of the shiny and the new. Or maybe it just seemed that way because he was drunk and in a haze. Either way, Cassius decided he didn’t like it as he wandered the nearly empty, quiet streets.

  He wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking, his trance at last interrupted by his cell phone going off to indicate he’d received a few text messages. Frowning, he flipped open his phone.

  There were six new messages from Jonas Ward: ‘Cass? U coming back? Where the fuck are you? Did you go back to the hotel? Call me back man this is messed up!’.

  “Shit!” He hissed, fingers fumbling with his phone as he frantically typed in Jonas’s number. It rang and rang and rang before going to voicemail, then the automated voice informed him that the mailbox he’d dialed had not been set up. Shit!

  Cassius looked around, seeking anything in the buildings that might prove familiar and jog his memory about which way to go to get back to the club, to the hotel, to any place he might recognize. But in the night, Blanca looked unwelcoming, even a little bit spooky, and coming in from the water, he noticed a slow-moving fog rolling in.

  “This is just great! I’m lost!” He wailed into the night. Then an idea occurred. Maybe Jonas wasn’t picking up, but Sam totally would. His best friend from their youth would surely come to his aid and give him decent directions on how to get back to safety. Grinning drunkenly, he pulled up Sam’s entry in his phone, and dialed and waited.

  No answer.

  His brows knit in confusion. Maybe Sam was sleeping. He’d try again to wake him up, so that Sam understood it was an emergency.

  Again, there was no answer.

  He decided he would try one last time, hitting the call button as he shivered in the damp, cool embrace of the fog. When he again received no answer, he left a voicemail. “Sam! It’s Cass! I lost Jonas! I’m wandering around Blanca, I don’t know where the hell I am and I need you to get me home! Come on, buddy! Answer your phone, Sam! I need you, man!”

  Sighing, he had to re-evaluate his options. He could either try calling Drew, and risk his unholy wrath, or he could take his chances and try to make it back by himself. And in his state of drunkenness, Cassius Michaels decided to go with the latter.

  * * *

  Drew sat alone in his hotel room staring mindlessly at the television. There wasn’t anything on worth watching and he half-way considered actually ordering a pay-per-view porno when he glanced over at the nightstand between the two queen sized beds and noticed that Sam’s cell phone was vibrating and lighting up like a firework.

  He raised an eyebrow, and briefly contemplated answering the phone, but thought better of it. That would be rude and presumptuous. And he wasn’t that kind of guy. Besides, the phone had stopped ringing, so there was no longer the need. Of course, he could always snoop through it and see who was calling, but that seemed like a dick move, even for him. Sure, he liked to exercise a bit of control over himself and over various aspects of his life, but invading Sam’s privacy by going through his phone was totally off the table. He wasn’t that kind of friend. He wasn't that kind of boyfriend. He wasn’t that kind of person, period.

  So instead, he turned back to the television and futzed with the remote, deciding that yes, he would like to watch some porn. It would be a good distraction, if nothing else. After all, it was a full moon and God only knew where Sam was or what agony he might be experiencing or creating.

  At some point, Drew closed his eyes and drifted off as the sounds of exaggerated coitus lulled him to sleep, and when he dreamed, his mind called forth a memory.

  Chapter 3

  Ten years ago

  They were lying in bed together, sweating and naked, both on their backs staring up at the ceiling fan as it circled around and around above them. It was winter, December, a few days after Drew’s birthday, though that occasion had nothing to do with what they’d just done. It was only a pleasant coincidence, something they’d laugh about the next day in Drew’s car as he drove Sam home from training or on Sunday after the match. They wouldn’t talk about it in front of the others, purposely averting their eyes, in case the intensity between them reached critical mass and it became obvious to everyone that the two men were sleeping together.

  Sam moved first, tugging the sheets up over their waists. He wanted to turn the fan off, but that would mean getting out of bed and leaving the security of the blankets and Drew’s arms. And he didn’t want to do that. Besides, he probably couldn’t walk in a straight line anyway. So instead he sighed, shivering a little, and curled on his side against Drew.

  Drew tilted his chin to look over at him with a teasing smirk. “Really? Are we doing this? Are we cuddling right now?”

  “Yes, Drew. We’re cuddling. So, shut up and cuddle me.”

  Drew let out a long breath, as if he could not believe he was being subjected to such an indignity, but he snaked both arms securely around Sam and held him closer, nuzzling him possessively until his nose was pressed firmly to Sam’s neck. “There? We’ve cuddled? Are you happy now?”

  Sam let out a dreamy sigh, allowing himself the luxury of letting go and indulging in his most private emotions. It was only for a moment, and it was only with Drew around. He never let his guard down around anyone else.

  “Mhmm.” He was beaming as he ran his fingers through Drew’s already messy hair. “You know, I think I could stay like this forever.”

  “We can’t stay like this forever.” Drew mumbled into his lover’s skin, voice muffled, breath warm.

  “I know that.” Sam sighed again, a bit of the dreaminess lost that time. “But if we could, I would want to.”

  Drew was struck by that sentiment, not because he fancied himself some sort of romantic sap who was moved by great displays of emotion or something like that. He wasn’t like that in the least. It was difficult for him to express h
imself emotionally. His idea of romance involved lip-synch serenading Sam with ballads after sex with him in the shower at his parents’ house while no one else was at home.

  In other words, he wasn’t romantic, at least not in the traditional sense of the word, though he thought he at least understood how much he loved Sam and would do anything in the world to be with him. He understood enough about himself to recognize that while he might not be able to express those feelings in his own words or through the traditional means of romance, he still felt those same emotions. He loved Sam. And for some reason, Sam loved him, too.

  It had only been two months since they’d started sleeping together, since Sam had first asked him to come over after practice, while his family was back visiting Silver Falls for a week. He’d parked his car out front and the two of them giddily snuck inside like a pair of schoolboys, high on adrenaline and wild with animal lust.

  The first time was in Sam’s bedroom, quick, awkward, an overall messy and unsatisfying affair. They’d rushed things. It had been unpleasant. But in the aftermath, when they both sat up and looked at each other with new-born eyes, all was entirely forgiven. Sam had launched himself at Drew, kissing him with more fervor than Drew thought could possibly exist. And he’d whispered something low and soft against Drew’s throat, something which Drew could never ever forget.

  “Have me?”

  He hadn’t understood then what Sam meant. He’d already had him, hadn’t he? He’d bent the younger man over, kissed him, licked him, bit him, explored his body and come to possess it like it was an extension of his own before they’d even had sex.

  He’d done things with him that he’d been too terrified to do with anybody else. He’d never wanted to be with a guy before. It had never even factored into his head until he met Sam. And yet there he was, holding onto this man like he was the most precious thing in the entire world, like his life depended on keeping Sam safe and protected and loved. He had Sam, he had all of him, and more importantly, Sam had him.

  So rather than answer him straight away, he'd pulled him up and pressed their lips together gently, eyes drifting shut as he dragged his fingers down the notches of Sam’s spine. The man had purred, just like a kitten, so sweet and aching, and they’d spent the rest of their free time that week in Sam’s parents’ house, touching each other, experimenting, and learning just how to get each other off.

  Their first two months together had been a sort of blissful haze, sex when they could while making magic together on the field. It wasn’t perfect, they weren’t exactly winning every game or anything, but the potential for greatness was there. The seeds were planted, and the chemistry was palpable. And Drew and Sam were practically joined at the hip.

  Others on the team noticed and teased Drew about his little shadow, but he didn’t care. In that very short time he’d begun to rely on the younger man and he couldn’t imagine ever wanting to play the game without him. How quickly he’d fallen under Sam’s spell.

  But it wasn’t a spell. This was purely a chemical reaction, something in their brains which released every time they were in proximity to each other. It was raw and hormonal and primal and it felt so good. And it was emotional and expansive and it felt like it could extend into forever.

  Magic didn't exist, but eternity did, and it seemed tangible somehow. Drew had never felt like that before. And as he lay in his bed with Sam breathing steadily against his neck, he recognized that he too would like to stay that way forever.

  “We can make it close to forever,” he said, lowering his eyes to look at Sam straight on.

  The younger man sat up so he was on his knees and looming over Drew. “What do you mean?”

  Unable to resist the opportunity to say something snide, Drew cracked a proud grin. “I mean we can’t physically stay in bed like this forever, but I’ll pound you into the mattress again whenever you want.” He didn’t even see the pillow coming until it hit him squarely in the face. “Ow! Shit!”

  “Bastard.”

  “Sam! That hurt, asshole!” Drew protested with a mercurial laugh as he pushed the offending pillow aside. It still sounded weird to say a man’s name, Sam’s name, and apply it to the person he was sleeping with. He was reminded briefly of this as he ran his hands through his hair and gave the younger man a playful look. “I was only joking. You were supposed to laugh.”

  “It’s not a joke to me,” Sam said, arms crossed over his chest. He wasn’t pouting, but he was coming awfully close. And in that instant, he looked so open, so fragile that Drew’s heart just about broke at the sight of him. The older man sat up quickly and leaned in to kiss Sam as he continued to sputter a protest. “I’m trying to say I—”

  Drew’s lips brushed against Sam’s in the sweetest, most chaste kiss either man could muster, and when Sam finally stopped trying to speak, Drew sat back and stared at him with his signature smolder. Sam instantly felt his stomach doing cartwheels.

  “I would spend forever with you.” Drew spoke haltingly, unsure how to articulate the feelings he needed to express. It was almost frightening, how exposed he felt as he stared into Sam’s amber eyes. Except when he blinked, he realized he wasn’t exposed at all.

  Sam knew him, had come to know him over the last five or so months, and while he’d be bearing his soul to him, he somehow understood that Sam already owned him. “I would spend every possible moment I could like this with you. If you wanted me to.”

  Sam’s mouth twitched slightly, like he wasn’t sure if he should smile or not. He settled for gnawing on his lip, peeling the skin off with his teeth. Drew hated it when he did that. It was so unintentionally erotic, it made him feel weak. It made Drew feel wild and alive, so he grabbed hold of both of Sam’s shoulders and looked him squarely in the eyes.

  “Are you listening to me, Sammy? I want to be with you every day. I want you with me all the time. I want you to pass me the ball so I can score and I want you to run to me and jump on me when I do and I want to fuck you every night for the rest of my fucking life. Don’t you get it? I want it to be like this forever. We can be like this forever.”

  There was a distinct hint of agony in Drew’s voice that which seemed to catch Sam off guard. His eyes narrowed then as he stared at his lover with such intensity that Drew almost wanted to squirm.

  “I don’t want you to fuck me,” Sam finally said, looking down at Drew’s bare chest for a moment before looking back to the older man's face.

  “What?” He didn’t get it. He thought he got it, but clearly, he didn’t. And the disappointment was almost overwhelming. Had he been wrong? Had he misunderstood? Had he done something dumb like mistake sex for love?

  Sam held his gaze, unwavering in its intensity even as his cheeks turned pink. “I want you to make love to me.”

  Drew’s whole face lit up then, with relief and mischief and glee. “Oh, really? Seriously?” And then he started to laugh.

  The younger man blinked at him, brows slowly knitting into a look of rage, voice dropping to a snarl. “Drew—”

  “Hold on a second!” Drew insisted, laughing, pleading with him, cupping both hands on Sam’s cheeks. “If that’s what you want, baby, you’ve got it. I…don’t know if I can say it. I just don’t know. But I feel it. I’ve felt it every time you’ve looked at me. And I was hoping you’ve felt it too. Because if it seems like I’m just using you or something then I feel like a total asshole.”

  “You are an asshole.” Sam said flatly, closing his eyes for a moment before letting himself fall into the familiar security of Drew’s longing gaze. “But I do. I do know it. Even if you can’t say it, I’ve felt it. I felt it the first time you looked at me, you know?”

  “Yeah. I know.” Drew pulled in a long breath, then carefully tucked a strand of Sam’s hair behind his ear. “I’m fucking terrible at this.”

  But then again, he’d never been in love with anyone else before, so he had nothing else to compare it to. Not first-hand, at least. Still, he analyzed his lover’s
face, reaching out to pet his hair, which was sticking out in every direction, then down his cheek and jaw and to his chin. Drew sat still as Sam petted him, watching the other man intently. Sam lowered his eyes, smiling just so. “You don’t think we’re moving too fast?”

  “No,” Drew answered immediately, catching himself with a chuckle. “You struck me like lightning, kid. You fucking electrify me. You’re fucking magic. And I’m fucking magic when we’re together. So don’t deny me a taste of it now, Sam, because I can’t function without you. You’ve got me addicted.” He slumped back against his pillows then, leaving Sam sitting up alone. “Besides, you’ve been shamelessly in love with me from the moment we met. So don’t Don’t even try to deny that you want this as much as I do.”

  Sam’s eyes went wide, mouth gaping for a moment before he burst into a full round of laughter. “Wow,” he said at last, rolling his eyes as he climbed on top of Drew, straddling him and positioning himself so that their hips were precariously aligned. This gave Drew a distinct feeling of helplessness that he almost liked. Slowly, Sam craned down so that he could whisper into Drew’s ear, exhaling softly before he did. “You have me. You’ll always have me.”

  “And you’ll always have me,” Drew breathed, rocking his hips against Sam’s. “I mean it.” And he did.

  Sam did that purring, growling thing again and it nearly drove Drew mad. He slid his hands up Sam’s sides, wanting to feel every inch of his skin, touch every part of him over and over again, commit his entire being to memory. He could touch and kiss him a hundred thousand times and each kiss would still seem like the first. Drew was sure of it.

  “Mm. Good,” Sam sighed, rolling his hips down, shifting so that they could rub against each other and appreciate the sensation for a moment. They stayed that way, carelessly thrusting together, Drew’s hand finding its way around both of their cocks, drawing out plaintive and needy groans as they fell into a steady pattern. It was bliss. It was pure lust and sensation and magic and feeling, and it felt so perfect and right that he was sure, for the first time in his life, he could do anything, be anything, so long as this man was here with him, to make love to him and tease him and tell him he was a dick and pass the ball like he’s some mad genius magician.