by JC Holly
Grant grinned. “That I did.”
Chapter Twelve
As fun as the shower had been the previous night, this time Grant wanted to do things right, and that meant the bedroom. He led Tom by the hand into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Tom mirrored him, then leaned in and kissed Grant, then moved back and glanced around. Grant could sense his nervousness and put a hand on his lover’s knee.
“Hey, we’ve already done this once,” he said.
Tom nodded. “But this time we’re doing it in the bedroom. That makes it feel more…” He chewed his lip, then shrugged. “I don’t know. Official?”
Grant chuckled. “I suppose. If you’re not interested, I could leave.”
“Hey, I never said I wasn’t interested. I’m all about the interest, in fact.”
“Well in that case quit complaining and take off your clothes.”
Tom smirked, then stood and began to pull his shirt off.
“Slowly,” Grant said, as he leaned back, resting on his elbows.
“Oh, so I’m a stripper now, am I?” Tom tossed his hair and feigned a pout. “You only want my body, is that it?”
Grant nodded. “Yup. Totally. Get ‘em off, baby.”
Tom grinned and began to unfasten the rest of his shirt buttons. He moved slowly and methodically, working from the bottom up, exposing his taut stomach and abs, followed by his chest and finally his pecs. For such a slight figure, Tom had a lot of definition.
“You like?” he asked.
“I do,” Grant said.
He slipped his hand into his pants and pulled out his stiffening cock, then began to stroke it slowly.
“See?”
Tom’s eyes lit up, and for a moment his attention was solely on Grant’s crotch. He snapped out of it, though, and his hands moved to the waistband of his pants, hooking his thumbs under the material. He turned away from Grant as he pulled them down, giving him a great view of Tom’s round ass. Apparently the man had decided not to bother with underwear, a fact that had Grant almost reaching out to slap the man’s bare skin.
“Beautiful,” Grant muttered, as he worked his cock. “I can’t wait to get inside you again.”
Tom kicked away his pants and straightened up, then walked across to the bed and sat beside Grant. With a slow motion, he slid his hand up Grant’s leg, then gripped his cock and squeezed hard, then began to stroke him.
Grant let out a sigh and closed his eyes while Tom worked. He didn’t want to come this soon, but there was nothing wrong with a few minutes of fun before the main event.
“Tell me how it feels,” Tom said, his voice low but confident.
“It feels wonderful,” Grant replied. “You have such soft hands.”
“Huh.”
Grant cracked open an eyelid. “What?”
“Who knew one of the benefits to a desk job would be better handjobs?”
“Think we should inform the press?”
Tom smirked and squeezed, then continued to stroke. Grant let him for a few minutes more, then placed his hand on top of Tom’s and looked him in the eye.
“Lie on your side.”
Tom’s nerves returned, but for only a moment before his newfound confidence kicked in once more. He nodded, then slid back up the bed and lay down on his left side, his arm crooked underneath his head.
Grant watched him, then stood and moved to the drawer, where he’d earlier stashed a few supplies. He pulled out a condom and lube, then quickly shed the rest of his clothing and joined Tom, kneeling behind him on the bed.
With a practiced motion, he flipped the cap on the small bottle and dripped a small amount of lube onto his fingers, then reached down and found Tom’s asshole. Tom tensed for a moment, but remembered their previous time, and soon relaxed enough for Grant’s probing fingers to find their mark and slip a little way inside.
“Fuck,” Tom muttered under his breath.
“Just relax,” Grant replied.
His fingers moved a little more freely and he began to work them deeper, probing for Tom’s prostate. He found it and Tom bucked in response, then gasped as Grant reached around to jerk the man’s cock. Tom groaned aloud as Grant worked his g-spot, which only served to make Grant even more horny. When he couldn’t take it any longer he pulled his fingers free and reached for the condom wrapper, tearing it open one-handed.
“Are you ready?” he asked, as he rolled the condom into place.
“Do it,” Tom replied, his voice strained. “Fuck me, Grant.”
Grant growled softly at the words and shifted into a spooning position behind Tom, then angled his cock until it pushed against Tom’s hole. After a moment’s pressure the tip slipped inside, and Grant let out a long breath at the sensation.
“God, that feels so good,” he said, reveling in the warmth as he began to work his way a little deeper.
“You’re telling me,” Tom said, though it sounded like he had to fight for words. “I…I, wow.”
Grant pulled back until he was almost out once more, then pushed in again, increasing the depth. On each time he moved a little deeper, and before long he was able to lie close enough to Tom that his chest was against the man’s back. He draped his arm over his lover and gripped his cock, which was every bit as hard as Grant’s own.
Soon Grant was completely inside Tom, and the two lay side by side, working their hips back and forth to extend the strokes. They were in no hurry this time. As much as it was about lust, the act was about something more this time, Grant realized. It was why he’d chosen the bed. This time it was about love.
The thought almost shocked him out of his rhythm, but he managed to hold on and quickly settled back down as he considered his feelings. Usually it took him much longer to come to such a conclusion in a relationship. Hell, in some cases he was sure he’d never truly loved a partner. Obviously those partners hadn’t lasted long.
The simple fact was that whenever he was around Tom, or just thinking about him, Grant was happy. Happier than he’d been in a long time, if he was honest.
A moan from Tom reminded him where he was, and Grant pushed the thoughts from his head. They were for another time, one where he could think. Perhaps he’d go for a run later, just him and the winter wind in his fur.
His mind back in the bedroom, Grant sped his strokes on Tom’s cock. Not enough to speed things along—he doubted either of them wanted that—but enough to keep the man on his toes. Tom grunted in reaction and Grant felt his muscles clench until he adjusted.
“Don’t ever stop,” Tom said turning his head to the side.
Grant leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Never.”
* * * *
Tom woke a few hours later to find Grant still cuddled up close to him. The few aches he remembered from the first time they had been together were less this time, and Tom was certain that the next time would be the same.
He snuggled back into his lover, pulling the man’s arm over him. Grant murmured in his sleep, then hugged Tom close. With a smile he let himself fall back to sleep.
Morning arrived all too soon, the light from the winter’s sun bright through the gaps in the not-quite-closed curtains. Tom groaned and pulled the blanket up over his head, which woke Grant with a start.
“Already?” the man muttered.
He shuffled further under the blankets until his morning stubble rubbed against Tom’s shoulder.
“Much better,” Grant said, before reaching up and pulling the blanket further over their heads, cutting out all the light. “Four more hours.”
Tom pushed his hips back against Grant’s crotch. “Sounds good to me.”
Grant ground against Tom’s ass briefly, then let out a loud fake snore and fell limp. Tom laughed and slapped his man on the thigh. “Behave.”
“Not in this lifetime,” came the reply.
It soon became clear that the day was starting around them, whether they liked it or not. The sun kept creeping in through the window until even the blan
ket couldn’t hold it back, cars began heading up and down the road, their occupants off to work, and one of the neighbors turned their TV up loud enough to wake the dead.
With further muttered protests Tom climbed out of bed and stepped across to the window to fully open the curtains.
“More snow fell,” he commented, as he watched someone across the street shovel a path to their door. “The sooner this winter is over, the happier I’ll be.”
“Oh, I dunno.” Grant’s arm snaked around Tom’s waist and pulled him close. “If it wasn’t for the snow that night, we might never have got together.”
“True.”
The pair stood in the window and watched the world go by for a while. The niggling worry that his neighbors might see him being held by another man lasted only seconds this time, and the feeling that he was finally getting over his hang-ups made him feel all the more happy.
“So, what’s the plan?” Tom asked later, as they sat at the kitchen table and enjoyed their coffees.
“I have an errand to run in a couple of hours,” Grant said. “After that, I’m all yours again.”
“Nothing important, I hope?”
“Not really. I promised to help someone move some furniture a while back, and promptly forgot about it.” Grant shrugged. “It shouldn’t take long, though.”
“Well don’t rush it,” Tom said with a smile. “Don’t want you straining yourself.”
Grant returned the smile. “I’ll have you know I happen to be unstrainable.”
“Is that even a word?”
“It is now.”
Tom rolled his eyes and stood. “Well, if you have two hours, I have something for you to do.”
Grant raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s that?”
With a quick motion Tom let his pants fall to the floor. “Me.”
Chapter Thirteen
Grant felt like an asshole for having to stretch the truth with Tom again, but consoled himself with the fact that it would never happen again. Today was the day, he’d decided. The day he’d tell Tom everything.
The question was, how?
As soon as he left the house and jumped into his car, the worries of how the revelation would play out started to whir around his head. How would Tom take it? Would he think it was a big joke? Would he take offense at not knowing right away? Grant pushed the thoughts aside for the time being and set off.
Like many shifters, he did all his best thinking on four paws. While he kept all his mental faculties, the shift to an animal form seemed to make it harder to overanalyze things, and the boost to his instincts seemed to help simplify even the most complex decisions.
The spot he drove to was a popular area for his pack, and he wasn’t at all surprised when he caught a hint of shifter on the air as he pulled into the old parking lot that sat just a few feet from an old gate that lead into a dense mass of trees.
Another car sat in the lot, one that Grant recognized. The owner wasn’t inside. Judging from the scent trail, though, they were nearby. Maybe I can catch ‘em up. Grant undressed quickly, then hid his car keys inside a wheel arch, before darting naked across the lot and into the thicket.
The snow was drifted up against the trees, but in between it wasn’t so deep, coming up to Grant’s ankle at most. His supernatural blood meant the cold didn’t bother him as much as it would a human, but even so he was quick to drop to all fours and will the shift to begin.
Pain shot through his core, radiating out to his extremities as every fiber of his being fought against nature, taking him from a naked human to a fur-clad wolf in a handful of excruciating seconds.
He took a deep breath in through his lupine nose and sneezed hard as he was assailed by more scents than he had expected. Apparently a great number of animals had passed through the area recently, a fact that his human nose had missed, likely due to his distracted mind.
If he hadn’t already known which shifter was out in the trees, the discovery of so many animal scents would have told him. Only one shifter was so gleeful in his scaring of the local wildlife. With a chuff of happiness, Grant bounded off in search of Snow.
It wasn’t a difficult trail to follow, but since Grant was in no great hurry he took a few detours on the route. After all, what was the point in going in a straight line when there was so much to explore only a few feet to either side.
The trees blocked out a great deal of the morning light, but his enhanced eyesight more than made up for it, bringing things into sharper focus than perhaps even a regular wolf could manage. Here and there in the mess of trees, plants and flowers fought their way through the snow. Footprints of a dozen sizes traveled in every direction, their creators either long gone or hiding from the wolf that approached.
Unlike Snow, Grant took no great pleasure from chasing the wildlife. He wasn’t one for hunting, either. Some shifters loved to track and kill their meals, but Grant preferred that they came pre-cooked and on a plate.
As he explored the area, he let his mind settle back onto Tom and the upcoming conversation. In the fifteen years since he’d been turned, Grant had had a good few relationships. More than most people, probably. And of those relationships, around half had gotten to the point where he’d felt the need to tell them about what he was. Of that half, it was split pretty evenly between those who had taken it well, and those who hadn’t.
Some of his friends had been considerably more lucky in that regard, and some had been worse off. He knew one guy who had had so many rejections after finding out what he was, that he stopped telling people completely, regardless of how well the relationship went. On the other hand, he knew of a couple of pack members that were the exact opposite, and told prospective dates on their first meeting, so as to get it out of the way as soon as possible.
Grant had always fallen somewhere in the middle, and could count on one paw the number of times he’d revealed all sooner than he was planning to do. But Tom was different. He was clever, witty, and now that he wasn’t so hung up on the change to dating men, Grant could certainly see himself spending his life with the man.
But that meant telling him things that he may not be able to handle. Grant knew Tom was apt to overanalyze things, so perhaps it was easier to just keep his true nature hidden. On the other hand, though, Tom was already becoming a little suspect about Grant’s abilities, it seemed.
As often happened when Grant mulled things over in wolf form, his instincts kicked in and told him to shut the hell up. The fact of the matter was that he loved Tom, regardless of the short time they’d been together, and keeping such a big secret would only harm the relationship in the long run. So why hide it?
His musing was cut short a few moments later as he caught a familiar scent on the air. Even with his roundabout route he’d caught up to his target, and within a few minutes of pounding away at the snow they came into view, sitting on his haunches with his head buried in the carcass of a deer.
Like his namesake—and hair in human form—Snow was pure white, other than his eyes and the bottom of his paws. It was ideal in winter, but in summer the wolf stuck out like a sore thumb. At that moment, his muzzle was red from the blood of his meal.
As Grant approached, the wolf looked up, yapped happily and wagged his tail, completely negating the rather grizzly scene. He didn’t run over to meet Grant, instead sitting and waiting for Grant to come to him.
Since they were of equal standing in the pack, Grant greeted his friend by nuzzling the white fur of his side with his head, the wolf equivalent of a fist bump. Snow responded in the same manner, then nodded down at the grisly scene at his feet. Grant shook his head, then gestured off into the trees and wagged his tail. It was as close to, “fancy a run?” as he could manage without scratching the words out in the ground.
Snow understood immediately, and nodded, before dipping to take a final bite of his prize catch. Finished, he turned toward where Grant had pointed, then without warning took off like a somewhat bloody bullet from a gun. Grant set off aft
er him a moment later, barking, and within fifty meters had leveled with his friend.
There was no preset route to take, as there wasn’t so much as an old walking trail in that part of the forest, so they simply went wherever their instincts took them. Grant took the lead and Snow followed close behind, and after a while they switched it up so that Snow chose the route instead.
As they ran, wildlife either hid or scattered, and Grant couldn’t blame it. If he saw two large wolves, one with a bloody face, running toward him, he’d probably find somewhere else to be, too. What little fauna there was that didn’t immediately disappear was yapped at by Snow.
The man had always taken his wolf side more seriously than Grant. Snow relished each and every opportunity to be out in the wild, and probably spent as much time in his wolf form as he did in his human form. As such he could be pretty damn hard to get hold of, especially during the nighttime.
They ran together for what must have been a good few miles, before their route started to loop back around toward where their cars were parked. Snow took the lead once more and picked up the pace until they were sprinting hard toward the parking lot, now back on the main walking trail. Thankfully nobody was around, or they’d have the fright of their lives.
Snow came to a halt just before the gate and slinked off to one side, and Grant headed to the other, facing away from his friend. As one they shifted back to human forms and, after a moment of discombobulation, they joined one another and headed back to their cars.
“So,” Snow said, as he dipped to grab his keys from a nearby snow pile. “How’s Grant?”
“Good.”
Grant grabbed his own keys and let himself into the passenger side of his car, then quickly dressed. He wasn’t concerned about Snow seeing him naked—it wouldn’t be the first or the last time—but passersby might get the wrong idea.
“Came out to do some thinking,” he said, once he was decent again. “About Tom.”
Snow nodded as he pulled on his jeans. “Relationship or revelation?”
