After another rumble, the rain began to pummel the concrete heavily, signaling Johnny to leave the fruit and flowers on the door step with a loving note. He ran back to his car with his coat pulled up over his head, trying to keep the cold rain from running down his sweater, failing miserably as droplets trickled over his neck.
Shivering, Johnny started his car and sat for a moment while the rain pattered hard against the metal roof. Where had Ross gone? On the way back home, Johnny considered how much he didn’t know about Ross. There was a bit of a mystery about the freelance photographer, something very alluring and slightly daunting that made Johnny want to learn more. The attraction was magnificent, the mere scent of Ross’s cologne igniting a fire within his pelvis almost immediately. It was as if the aura emitted was a spell or a siren, luring Johnny further into the depths of the dark sea beneath the supple skin. Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t realized he already arrived at his apartment where he lamented its emptiness. One of the things that struck him during his deep thinking was the calendar in the kitchen. The 22nd, two days prior, had been highlighted in red, making him think perhaps it might have been an important event. But everything else on his calendar was so neatly outlined in simple black ink. What was so important about the 22nd of November?
Johnny arrived back home, and locked the door behind him. He studied his own calendar, on which he had circled the day he met Ross. It was such a beautiful evening and he recalled fondly how they had chatted on his porch. The apartment seemed so quiet now and he felt trapped, wondering how he would relieve the tension in his gut. He reminded himself that Ross would return his call soon and that he shouldn’t panic. Everything would be just fine. He just had to occupy his thoughts before they got the best of him.
After grading a few papers and eating something from the fridge, he felt better and relaxed into the cushions of the couch for the evening news. The storm outside was still ravaging the area, the news pulsing with flash flood warnings for all areas in Palm Beach. It wasn’t long until Johnny’s eyes grew heavy and he sank further into the couch as sleep took over his exhausted mind.
Morning came quickly, the sound of the alarm blaring from the room cutting through the darkness of Johnny’s dreams. He wasn’t sure what it was he’d been dreaming, but it mustn’t have been particularly pleasant, as his body was soaked in sweat. Rising slowly from the cushions, he ran to the room to shut off the incessant alarm. Back in the living room, the news was still humming through the television speakers, this time describing the damages from the storm. Johnny raised the volume and studied the screen, listening to a report of a body having washed up from a nearby river.
“The identity has yet to be determined, but specialists are on their way to discovering...”
He closed his eyes for a moment of silent prayer, sending thoughts to the families of the victim. After shutting off the television, he headed for the shower but was interrupted by a knock at the door.
Looking at his watch, he wondered who would be stopping by this early. He hadn’t checked his phone yet, so he wondered if perhaps Ross might be on the other side, apologizing for losing his phone or accidentally destroying it during one of his photography jobs. Peering through the spyhole, he saw Ross on the other side. Relief washed over his body as he whipped open the door. Shock took over the relief as the vision before him settled in, the torn and tattered clothes of his sweet artist a frightening sight. Blood caked the places where his clothes were torn and he appeared to have been completely drenched by the storm. Ross began to fall forward and Johnny caught him, dragging him into the apartment while pummeling him with questions about where he had been and what had happened. Ross could barely speak, appearing somewhat dehydrated and quite possibly defeated by whatever had attacked him.
“Sweetheart, what happened?!” cried Johnny as he laid Ross out on the couch. “You haven’t answered your phone for two days! What’s been going on?!”
The shouting seemed to bring Ross out of his daze and he groaned, feeling too weak to speak. Johnny retreated to the kitchen to get a glass of water to help him get hydrated enough to tell him what had been going on. Panic settled in his gut as Ross began to speak, overwhelmed by the fear of what he might hear. Had he been cheating? Was he peddling drugs? Should he expect squad cars to show up with their blue lights blaring through the heavy rain?
“Sleep,” Ross whispered. “I need to sleep.”
Ross shut his eyes and collapsed into the cushions where Johnny had just been, snoring lightly under the sound of the storm still whipping about outside. Disappointed and now wrought with paranoia, Johnny stood to take in the full image of Ross beneath him. The ripped clothing appeared to have been made by claws, a chilling sight to imbibe as there were no known wild animals in the city. Johnny shook his head suddenly, trying hard to remain calm over the persistent voice that begged him to call the police.
No, Johnny thought. I have to take care of my lover.
Pushing the panicking voice into the deep recesses of his mind, he began to collect first aid supplies in order to attend to what seemed to be gouges made by a gigantic cat. The four marks over his thigh were surface wounds, but deep enough to warrant heavy bandaging. The whole process took an hour and Johnny studied the sleeping face of his lover, hoping that this wasn’t some gang attack or mob hit. He just met this beautiful man not even a month ago. Losing him as quickly as they met would traumatize him, maybe even scar him forever. With great effort, Johnny pushed all these paranoid thoughts from his head and simply curled up with his wonderful artist who snoozed heavily despite the storm. It wasn’t long before Johnny fell asleep as well.
*****
Johnny had never seen someone sleep for such a long time. He still hadn’t woken by 10am the next morning. It was a Saturday, and normally he would go to the food kitchen to volunteer, but he did not want to leave Ross. He called Sara, and asked to be excused for personal reasons. Johnny had put in a lot of time at the kitchen and had never asked for time off before, so Sara granted his request.
Ross slept for ages. Johnny caught up with some housework, and read quietly for a while, checking on Ross to make sure he was okay from time to time.
At around 4pm, Johnny wondered if he should try waking him. As though reading his thoughts, with a loud snort and a yelp the tattered man before him suddenly sat up with wide eyes.
“Ross, are you–”
“I need to eat,” said Ross. “I need food and water. Please.”
Without hesitation, Johnny went to the kitchen and made Ross a sandwich, which he ate quickly. After that, he heated up the spaghetti from the previous night, a frozen pot pie, and even a set of pork chops and potatoes. Johnny watched with fascination as Ross devoured every bit of food that was placed in front of him. After swigging the water as if it were the drink of the gods, he placed the empty cup on the table and folded his hands together.
“I’m about to tell you something that might seem strange or impossible,” Ross began. “But it is the truth. I care deeply for you and I don’t want to hide anything at all.”
As Ross paused, Johnny regarded his words with cautious curiosity, eying his boyfriend as he began to go into the lengthy explanation of his condition.
“I am a werewolf,” said Ross. “As an orphan, I have no family to speak of save for one man who taught me how to control the beast inside. Every month, I must disappear for three days deep into a forested area in order to avoid the general public. Hiding is my only salvation from being hunted and destroyed.” Johnny’s face drooped towards the ground. Ross said, “I realize this is a lot to accept all at once and it seems totally unbelievable, but it’s the truth.”
Speechless, Johnny wiped his mouth hard while trying to find a way to express the utter shock sitting in his gut.
“You’re a werewolf..?” he asked weakly.
Feeling faint, he sat in one of the kitchen chairs and stared at the wall. Ross stood carefully from the couch and glided across the room, placing his h
and gently on Johnny’s shoulder. He didn’t move.
“I knew it was weird you had circled the 22nd, but I didn’t ever suspect anything like that...” said Johnny. “This might take some time.”
Pulling away from Ross’s touch, Johnny went into the bedroom where he hid briefly, the storm pummeling against the walls of the apartment building. He ran his fingers through his hair while nervously pacing around his bed, wondering what he was supposed to do in that moment. As he did this, Ross stood on the other side of the door, waiting patiently for his boyfriend to calm down. He traced the wood of the door with his fingers and stared at his knuckles, the battered bones appearing frail under his human skin.
It was such a strange switch, staring at his human form after being a monster for nearly 12 hours. He had hid in the woods beyond the town, somewhere outside of the city while he was the beast and then returned before the moon fell later in the night. Appearing outside Johnny’s apartment was not his intention as he recalled his beastly brain heading for his own abode, but he must have subconsciously wanted his boyfriend after the stressful events of changing between forms over the course of three days. It wasn’t long before the door flew open and Johnny allowed Ross into the room where they curled up on the sheets together.
“I can’t imagine how you must feel,” Ross said as he ran his fingers over his boyfriend’s collarbone.
“It feels like I lost you and now you’re back,” Johnny explained, his voice cracking a bit from behind the pillow. “Do you ever kill anyone?”
The question was anticipated, but always a painful one to answer because Ross never intentionally killed anyone in his wolf form. Still, it was difficult to answer knowing that he might have – in the wild throes of primal passion – torn someone to pieces.
“It is not my intention to harm anyone. That is why I hide so far away,” Ross responded carefully, trying not to elicit any wild emotions from his compassionate lover.
“Promise me you didn’t kill anyone,” Johnny whispered while sniffling. “And promise me you never will.”
This was a difficult promise to keep, but one Ross had every desire to uphold. The strength of his affection for Johnny made him feel confident as he responded, passion filling his voice.
“I promise, baby,” he said before taking his boyfriend’s lips, the hunger for the body in his arms swiftly overwhelming his mind.
And then, nothing else mattered in this moment save for the pleasure of a warm body. Johnny sympathized with his bestial boyfriend sudden desire for sex, but insisted that they go into the shower as they were both covered in sweat. Feeling mischievous, Ross lifted his boyfriend and carried him to the bathroom before carefully disrobing. A shiver took over the teacher’s body, the hands of his boyfriend achingly teasing every bit of his thighs and legs as his rod grew hard and heavy in the cold air of the apartment. He reached over to turn on the shower and allowed for the water to warm before they both stepped into its healing spray. With a loving touch, the teacher scrubbed his boyfriend’s body with a bar of soap and rubbed carefully around the wounds he had attended to the day before. Bubbles lined the edges of the tub as he knelt down in front of his lover’s massive wand, the throbbing shaft begging to be devoured.
As if it had been his first meal in weeks, Johnny carefully took his lover’s wand between his lips and massaged his tongue against the shaft. His lips rose and fell over the aching member, the memory of pleasure now remembered because of the beautiful man offering his mouth as a vessel to receive the delicious load. The tantalizing display nearly caused Ross to erupt instantly, his eyes enraptured by the sight of his loving boyfriend swallowing him whole. He balanced himself against the ceramic tiles of the wall and gripped his lover’s hair, prompting those beautiful lips to suck even harder. This breached every bit of defense and caused him to chuckle excitedly. Before he could begin to roll his hips into the delightful mouth, Johnny stood to occupy the soft lips of his boyfriend.
“Turn around, baby,” Johnny whispered over the hiss of the shower. “I want to pleasure you in every way possible.”
Smiling, Ross turned carefully in the ceramic tub and excitedly waited for his lover to take hold of his hips, the strength behind the grip a pleasant surprise. Johnny attentively lubricated his erect member with saliva and then pressed the head against the opening of his lover, eliciting a gasp as water fell over their shivering bodies. He slowly rubbed his wand into the secret garden awaiting him, the delightful pressure wrapping around his aching cock as he delicately parted the entrance of his lover’s hole. The barrier of resistance crumbled and they were hot in a trance, picking up a steady rhythm that pressed them into the tiles. The longing between them intensified the sensation of each penetration and inspired them to moan uninhibitedly. A hand reached down and lifted a leg in order to better accept the driving force aching to erupt. Another hand wrapped around the delicate cock throbbing without a guide, the hand moving carefully over the taut skin to elicit a sweet release.
The two were engulfed by emotion, their brief separation causing them to become rather primal in the warmth of the shower. Steam rose over the curtain and anointed the air with a heavy buzz of pleasure as Ross was filled with Johnny’s amazing girth. A grunt erupted from the artist, who was digging his nails into the tile, cracking the ceramic under the weight of his hand. The force occupying his sweet hole was driving harder, pushing apart the delicate skin that ached to be filled. As the ticking bomb within his pelvis began to explode, his lover grunted hard and slammed eager hips into his supple thighs, and a chorus of moans filled the air celebrating their completion. The feathery strokes of his lover’s hand inspired his load to coat the wall as he tore away some of the tile above his head. A shower of ceramic chips fell across his back as the frenzied motions of Johnny brought his orgasm in waves, his come bursting from his rod and filling the beautiful rump in front of him.
Overwhelmed by the steam filling the room, Johnny reached over and turned the cold water up a bit to balance the heat of orgasm, which was taking over his body. He noticed the bits of tile and began to laugh, Ross turning to do the same as he used the wall to keep himself standing.
“Baby,” he panted. “You are amazing.”
“I love you,” Johnny whispered in response.
Taken aback by the statement, Ross washed himself off and brushed the tile from Johnny’s shoulders before slipping a tongue into his mouth.
“I love you too,” Ross replied and smiled into the sweet mouth of his lover.
A round of thunder signaled them to hop out of the shower and towel off so they could enjoy their company before the day ended and night fell. The thought crossed Johnny’s mind that he would have to leave Ross in the morning, causing him to become nauseous. Don’t worry about that now, he told himself. Just focus on your beautiful man and enjoy the rest of today. Between the news of flash flooding on the TV and the sex, he was mentally and physically exhausted, so he asked Ross if they could rest on the bed for a bit before dinner. The sounds of the storm lulled him into a relaxed trance as Ross traced the outline of his arm.
*****
The following week after the discovery of Ross’s condition, the school was abuzz with a number of rumors that made Johnny nervous. He overheard one student talking about the body that had washed up and how it resembled one of their friends. Coincidentally, this was the boy that had been marked absent for a couple of days the previous week, David. As Johnny looked over the roll, he realized David was still missing, and his panic peaked.
After school, the storm raged on. The news on the radio said it might develop into a hurricane. This caused more anxiety to Johnny, who was beginning to suspect his lover of lying about never killing. At home, he took the stairs by two and barreled through the front door, immediately turning on the news to check the local channels for any confirmation of the terrible rumors he had heard about David. To his dismay, the body had been identified as David Harrowitz, from his class. He felt his anger rise, along wi
th the fear.
The news anchor continued to outline the details of David’s death, explaining that the poor boy had been ravaged with what appeared to be claw marks. While no known predators were amidst the areas of Central Palm Beach, the news report speculated that it was a wild cat that had escaped the zoo and found the poor boy walking alone during the storm. The grip of panic persisted and tears began to form in Johnny’s eyes, a horrible taste rising up from his stomach and settling into the back of his throat. While pacing, Johnny pulled out his phone and called Ross who answered on the second ring. His voice was cheerful when he greeted Johnny.
“Hello, darling. How are you?” asked Ross.
“Don’t call me darling and don’t you dare lie to me. A body just turned up after the storm and it’s been reported to have claw marks. Do you have anything to say about that?” asked Johnny who was trying to keep from becoming shrill.
Ross bit his lower lip, panic slipping into his gut as he tried to remember what his primal form had done.
“I promise I didn’t kill anyone. There’s no way I could have–”
“He was my student, Ross! How could you lie to me like this?!”
The fear was taking over and Johnny succumbed to the terror that gripped his heart. A wave of nausea hit him like a wall of bricks, his body crumbling to the floor as he yelled at Ross to stay the hell away. Crying, he threw his phone across the room without even bothering to hang up, hoping perhaps Ross would just disappear from his life. Both torn souls were weeping just miles apart from each other, the horror of possible murder on the hands of one while betrayal tore through the other. How could this have happened? If fate had so kindly brought them together, how could it rip them apart?
As Johnny’s body shuddered with sobs, he wrapped his own arms around him to console himself. He had no one to call to talk about the situation because it would expose the terrible secret that Ross was a murderer. It was also possible to be considered an accessory even though Johnny had had nothing to do with the murder. He racked his brain about how he could possibly explain this if he called the police. For example, perhaps he could say that he had heard something. But what would he have heard? There was nothing he could do and reporting his own lover would only tear him into pieces. He wished hard for the claws of his passionate companion to rip through him, releasing him from the grip of the pain that was caused by those same paws.
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