The Wolf at the Door

by Charlie Adhara

  His hands slid up Cooper’s spine, gripping the flexing muscles of his back and shoulders. Cooper, needing more momentum, sat up a bit and braced one hand in front of him and the other gripped the back of the couch. To his surprise, one of Park’s hands slid over his and interlaced their fingers. Cooper curled his own fingers and squeezed to hold him there while his hips, free now to slam their approval, did just that.

  Cooper pushed back to meet Park’s thrusts, hard. The slap, slap of flesh on flesh and their moans and grunts melded together in a cacophony of pure, base, animal pleasure until Park gasped Cooper’s name loudly, over and over like it had a meaning in itself, and gripped his hand too hard. His thrusts stuttered violently as he came, almost sending Cooper over the end of the couch.

  Park collapsed on top of Cooper, whose arm gave out, and crushed him into the cushions. Park gently bit the nape of his neck as his orgasm twitched to an end.

  Cooper pushed back his own need and let Park linger in his post-coital bliss-out, enjoying the feel of the man’s weight covering him. When breathing, and his own weeping erection, became too uncomfortable to ignore, he wiggled purposefully.

  Park immediately lifted his weight up. He kissed and then licked the spot he’d bit and flipped Cooper onto his back so fast and with such inhuman strength Cooper let out a squeak that would have embarrassed him if he wasn’t distracted by Park pressing a sloppy kiss against his lips and then licking and sucking his way down his body toward Cooper’s cock. He nuzzled the base teasingly.

  “Please—” Cooper whispered.

  Park wrapped his lips around the sensitive head. Cooper gasped and his hips jerked, but Park held him down. He looked up at Cooper slyly, his lips stretched and shiny, and then slid slowly down taking his cock to the root.

  Cooper heard white noise. Or was it the ocean? Regardless, it was interrupting the sounds of Oliver energetically worshipping his dick. Cooper tried to push back the crush of feelings demolishing his senses. He was vaguely aware he shouldn’t be thrusting up into that wet heat, but couldn’t quite care enough to stop. Someone was talking incoherently and since Park’s mouth was very much full, it must be him.

  Cooper came with a long sound somewhere between a shout and a sob. A wail, maybe. An accurate word, but one that made him think of mourning women on cliffs and losing love to the sea. Then he couldn’t think anymore.

  Pulsing shockwaves coursed through his body, disintegrating any lingering worries, words or thoughts of loss and love. A cleansing that left him to drift. A burning pyre on the ocean.

  Eventually, when his fog cleared and his eyes could focus again, Cooper looked down to watch Oliver licking any spilled seed from his cock. When that got to be too much, Park shifted Cooper’s legs, moved down and gently nuzzled and kissed his tender hole. The action was oddly not sexual, but soothing and attentive, like he was tending to something he thought precious.

  It was weird. And it made Cooper’s throat tighten.

  “Can you at least try not to be a freak for five minutes?” Cooper said. His voice betrayed him by cracking.

  He felt Park smile against his skin, but when the man sat up he had a comically offended face on. “I don’t know, can you try not being such a porcupine for five seconds?”

  Cooper snorted. “Porcupine?”

  “Mmm,” Park said, quickly dealing with the condom, bracing himself over Cooper’s body and nipping his shoulder, playfully. “A prickly bastard.”

  Cooper didn’t bother to hide his smile. He let his eyes drift closed.

  Rush seemed a foreign word. Soon enough the afterglow would dissipate and the problems of fucking on a cheap, uncomfortable couch at his height, and at his age, after an admittedly rough couple of days, would make themselves known loudly and angrily. But until then he could lie here blissfully boneless and enjoy the feeling of Park’s lips nuzzling the nooks and crannies of his body.

  Cooper let his fingers lazily card through Park’s hair, the silky strands slightly sweaty. He scratched his scalp and Park grumbled approvingly. The sound and the vibration of Park’s lips against his thigh sent a tired pang of lust through Cooper, and he nearly laughed at the hopeful ambition of his body. Something about Park made him want to fuck all night. They’d been a bit rough and it had been a while, so his ass was not quite on board, but given some time Cooper could definitely muster up the energy for a lazy hand job.

  Or perhaps, in an hour or so, Park would be amenable to switching. The thought of his cock pushing into Oliver’s tight, toned ass sent a sharp surge of energy through Cooper. Moving to the bed, however, would be imperative.

  He was considering how to float the idea when he realized he didn’t feel lips on his skin anymore. He glanced down.

  Park was leaning back slightly in a sort of twisted cobra pose, half on, half off the couch. He was examining the scars on Cooper’s lower belly.

  Feeling Cooper’s gaze, or maybe his sudden tension, Park looked up. His face was serious and troubled.

  Cooper tried to joke. “Any lower and tonight wouldn’t have been half as fun.”

  Park didn’t smile. “When?”

  “About a year ago now.”

  He was still watching Cooper. Waiting for more explanation.

  Cooper sighed. “Chasing a suspect. I got...separated from my partner.”

  “Jefferson?”

  “No. This was before the BSI.” Park raised his eyebrows, and Cooper let the implications of that sink in.

  Separated was a generous term. He’d heard Agent Howards screaming at him to stand down and wait for backup, but Cooper had ignored him. It hadn’t even been their case, though everyone knew about it. The “monster” slashing up young women in Philly. They were just there at the right time, right place, and he’d had a good chance at him. Or so he later claimed to Howards.

  “He wasn’t expecting me to catch up to him,” Cooper said, remembering the look on Symer’s face when Cooper had followed him right off the warehouse roof, onto a Dumpster in a jump that had almost broken Cooper’s ankles, and cornered Symer in an alley. Surprise, definitely. But something else, too. He’d been impressed. Maybe a little curious. He had seen Cooper as a worthy opponent.

  So when Symer had swiped at his belly, almost gently and apparently unarmed, Cooper had half expected to feel the slap of Symer’s palm and an attaboy.

  Instead, Cooper had collapsed. His knees slammed into the concrete, though he didn’t even notice the pain. Not while his guts were simultaneously on fire and unnaturally cool and breezy.

  Symer had waved his shockingly clawed hand and loped off before Cooper could make a sound.

  “He got away,” Cooper added, somewhat unnecessarily, and traced the vicious marks puckering and twisting his stomach. He didn’t want to give Park the opportunity to ask about the medical fallout, so he hastily continued, “Anyway. Word got around, I suppose, and when I got out of the hospital I had an invitation to join the BSI. They said it was because they were impressed I’d been able to keep up with him, but it was at least a little bit to keep me quiet about what I’d seen and stop me from asking questions.”

  “Do you regret it?” Park asked.

  Cooper stroked Park’s hair absently. “As soon as I saw him jump a moving car like it was a puddle, I didn’t have a choice. I needed to know. I would have agreed to anything they asked just to know.”

  “But do you regret it? Is it better knowing?”

  Cooper got the impression Park wasn’t just asking out of concern for his well-being. It was a startling reminder, interrupting his sex high, that this naked, earnest-looking man splayed over his knees was a Trust agent. With a Trust agenda.

  He answered somewhat vaguely. “Sometimes I miss the life I would have had if I didn’t know. But...them’s the breaks,” he finished lightly. Perhaps he’d been less vague than he’d hoped because Park was nodding, looking serious
and contemplative, like Cooper had really given him something to think about.

  God, he hoped this hadn’t been some sort of get-close-to-the-BSI-agent-and-get-a-feel-for-the-mood. If so, Park had gotten a feel for a lot more than he set out to.

  Was that why Park had requested to be put on this case? To seduce Cooper? The errant thought was physically painful as well as absurd. To what effect? And why him? Because they shared the link of Jacob Symer? Did Park even know that?

  Cooper turned the words over in his mouth, contemplating how to ask.

  “They never did end up catching up to him. Jefferson always kept an ear open for me, though. I guess that’s what got him started looking up here. In Florence.”

  Park blinked. He looked genuinely confused.

  Cooper took a breath. “Jacob Symer. He was the one who attacked me, and killed those women. Though we never did find any proof.” Park tensed slightly and then relaxed. Cooper wouldn’t have noticed at all if they hadn’t been lying skin to skin.

  “I didn’t know that,” Park said eventually, watching Cooper’s expression.

  “But you did know who Jacob Symer was. Before Jefferson mentioned him this morning, I mean.”

  “I’ve never met him.”

  “And your family? Did any of them ever meet him?”

  “Yes.” Park smiled a little mockingly. “But they didn’t kill him.”

  “Would you know?”

  “Yes.” He paused. “They were looking for him, too.”

  “Why? Didn’t they ask him to leave town?”

  “Yes.”

  “So?”

  “So. He left his stuff behind.”

  “And they, what, wanted a forwarding address?”

  “If he had one.”

  Cooper propped himself up on his elbows and frowned. “You do think someone killed Symer.”

  “Someone,” Park agreed.

  “So if not...” Cooper trailed off.

  “If not my family, who?” Park guessed a little wryly. Cooper started to stammer a response, and Park cut him off with a kiss on his hip. “I know. And... I don’t know.”

  “Is that why you’re here? Why you asked to be put on this case? You think it’s connected?”

  Park stared at him for a long time. Almost to the point where Cooper considered repeating the question. Finally he said, obviously choosing his words carefully, “It isn’t the first unexplained werewolf disappearance in this area. Stuff like Tonya’s boyfriend going missing while passing through town has been happening for a while. But I don’t see how it’s connected to what’s happening now.”

  “Jesus. And here I thought small-town living was supposed to be good for your health. Maybe they’re all holed up together at wherever Baker’s secret hideout is, huh?”

  Park frowned and jerked his head as if shaking off an irritating fly. “Is it why you agreed to come here?” He changed the subject, brushing the ropes of hardened scar tissue with the pad of his thumb. “Were you hoping to find Symer?”

  “I didn’t even know Symer had ever lived in Florence until this morning.”

  Park cocked his head. “Jefferson didn’t tell you before?”

  “He probably just found out himself.”

  Park hummed, and seemed distracted by his own thoughts. Cooper lay back down on the couch and stared at the motel’s rough ceiling.

  If he had known Symer was here, what would he have done? Hunt him down on some revenge quest? Not damn likely. Cooper couldn’t imagine anything less like him. He hadn’t even thought that much about Symer in the months following the attack. Not that he’d ever admit it to Jefferson. But he’d been too busy obsessing over other things. His terror of having permanent health problems, for one. How horrible IV feeding was for another. But being injured in the line of duty was a risk he’d knowingly signed up for joining the FBI. Discovering an entire fantastical community had been living under his nose all his life took up a lot more of his thoughts. That and the sick shame and guilt that he’d run after Symer into that alley knowing that something was not quite right, disobeying his partner, Howards, and risking both of their lives, because he was so pathetically desperate to prove himself.

  Well, he’d proven himself all right. To be a fool.

  He had a feeling he was doing the same thing on this case, too.

  Park must have seen the frown settling into Cooper’s face and misread the reason. “I won’t let anyone else hurt you,” he murmured, and kissed the scars like he was sealing a contract.

  Cooper smiled faintly. His previous surge of energy was long gone. He felt very tired and very old. Older than Park, anyway, who sounded so sincere but so naïve. Like watching a boy of seven declare he was the man of the house now or a mother telling her child she’d love him forever. Longer than. For infinity times infinity.

  He could see Park believed it. In that moment he probably saw himself defending Cooper against faceless fanged enemies. But Jacob Symer wasn’t the only hidden monster Cooper had discovered in that alley, and Park couldn’t protect him from the recklessness he’d found within himself.

  He tightened his grip in Park’s hair and tugged him up to his face to place a gentle kiss on his lips.

  “I got you,” Park murmured into his mouth, as if he could taste the doubt.

  “I know,” Cooper said. “I know.”

  * * *

  Cooper awoke alone. For once his phone wasn’t ringing the morning in like some bad-news rooster. In fact, the whole room was still and quiet. Park’s room. Minus Park, apparently.

  At some point last night they’d stumbled into bed together after Cooper made half-hearted noises about returning to his own room which Park had promptly dismissed, hinting at a far more enjoyable sort of wake-up call if he stayed here instead.

  Cooper wasn’t going to turn down an offer like that, even if it did risk Jefferson catching his walk of shame. Besides, by then it had been late, he’d been exhausted and the thought of putting his clothes on just to shuffle a couple doors down to his own lonely room had been unappealing in the extreme. Staying over was just the practical thing to do. Not because he’d wanted to, god, cuddle or anything soppy like that.

  So he’d gotten into bed without too much protest, settling under the covers without touching Park, and was just drifting off when he’d felt Park’s hand come down on his hip and gently roll him over so that Cooper was pressed into his side, face neatly against Park’s chest. It was surprisingly comfortable, and after the briefest resistance Cooper let himself scoot closer and nuzzle his skin. Park still smelled so good despite the overlaying aromas of dried sweat and sex. Like the forest, the fresh outdoors and man. When Cooper pressed closer still, inhaling the sweet scent deeply, he could practically hear Park choking on satisfaction.

  Embarrassed, Cooper jerked away and snapped, “Didn’t peg you for the clingy type, Park.”

  “You haven’t pegged me yet at all,” Park replied cheekily, and tugged Cooper back down, pushing his head back to his chest and reaching down to hitch Cooper’s leg up over him.

  Cooper made some grumbling sounds about literally getting a leg over, but his heart wasn’t in it. His heart was too busy feeling all warm and steady and beating at a remarkably sedate pace. Remarkable for Cooper, anyway. He’d drifted off feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time.

  But now it was morning and he was here alone. Cooper stretched like a starfish, embracing the aches from last night, and waited for the regret to hit him.

  Then he sat up and waited a bit more just in case it was a fluke. But it never came. He seemed...fine with it. Even without the sex endorphins to distract him, he felt better than fine. He could feel his own lips twitching as if fighting a smile and that sneaking sense of smugness was back. This morning Cooper didn’t bother to begrudge himself. He’d earned a little ego.

  Mmmph, it ha
d been good. The way Park responded to the things Cooper had said, all passion and need—it made him feel powerful. His cock twitched as he reminisced.

  If Park got back from wherever he was early enough, Cooper had a few more choice things to say ready to go. Especially if he came back bearing more gifts of caffeine.

  And even now, in the daylight, sober as a judge without sex fogging his brain, he wasn’t worried about saying the wrong thing and embarrassing himself. Not with Park. Oliver.

  It was a funny thing how trusting a sexual partner could salve the oldest psychological burns.

  That thought caught him by surprise. Cooper stared at his own startled reflection in the dresser mirror across from the bed. His thick, dark blond hair was sticking up in wild tufts and his eyes were brighter, more intense than usual. An almost jade color that was especially striking in his nearly unrecognizable relaxed and heavy-lidded face. Faint red marks were scattered from his neck down his chest where Park had nipped him. They didn’t hurt and would probably fade by lunch, but for now they were proof of what had happened last night. Cooper touched one and his reflection smiled.

  He did. Trust Park, that is. And he was starting to...care for him, too. Maybe it was stupid and naïve of him. Too quick, for sure. But he’d been more vulnerable with this guy in the last three days, both by choice and not, than he’d been with another person since he was eleven years old and his dad told him boys didn’t cry and they certainly didn’t talk about their feelings.

  What that meant for the future, or even the rest of the day, he wasn’t sure. Sex, yes. Cooper wanted him again and he was sure Park wanted him, too. But anything beyond that?

  He shook his head. He was getting ahead of himself. Was he a teenager going to spend the morning wondering if his crush liked him back or was he going to jack off in the shower like a grown-ass man?

  He took a shower. By the time he got out, Park still hadn’t returned. Cooper checked his phone. Nothing. It wasn’t early morning anymore. He’d expected them to be heading to the station around now.

  He hesitated for a moment, not wanting to seem dependent, then called Park.