"Harder." Demanding now, Darien urged him on with hands and legs, wrapping around him and not letting go. "More."
He was eager to obey the commands, his thrusts becoming harder, wilder as the sensation got more intense.
He could feel Darien's shaft hard between them, hot against his belly. Darien touched him all over, scratching down his back, his bottom. It spurred him on and he moved faster, harder, pushing into Darien over and over again.
"Touch... touch me, Ropur. Please." This was so new, so different, Darien asking him to take the lead, and it excited him unbearably. Darien groped for his hand, brought it between them.
Gasping, he wrapped his hand around Darien's prick, their movements sliding it through his fist. Darien cried out again, high and oddly sweet, and spent himself, wet heat flowing over Ropur's wrist. The way Darien's body clamped down on him... oh.
He shuddered, his whole body going tight as he slammed into Darien one more time, the pleasure spilling from him in hot waves.
"My Ropur." Darien sighed beneath him, relaxing finally, hands reaching for him.
He collapsed down onto Darien, his shaft slipping from its tight sheath. "Oh, Darien. I had not imagined something could feel like that."
"Mmm, yes. It is most enjoyable." Darien laughed a little, as if he knew that was an understatement.
"Perhaps I am lucky after all, Darien. To have found you."
"Perhaps you are." Strong hands stroked his back, hunter’s hands, but ones that would never hurt him. "I know I feel fortunate beyond what I deserve."
"I was told I would die alone, that I did not deserve to live. I never expected to find love with a human." He rubbed his cheek against Darien's.
"That is cruel, my Ropur." Kissing his mouth, Darien rubbed their noses together. "I know. I was told I would die alone."
"They were wrong. About both of us."
"They were. I vow it, Ropur." They were silent for a long while, the heat of the day making them drowse. Then Darien breathed deep. "The cat will find us a place, yes?"
Ropur nodded. "The beast will know, will find somewhere we can fight." A shiver went through him, the feeling of being hunted returning as they spoke of it. "Perhaps one of us should keep watch, Darien. Just in case."
"We could trade off. I can take first watch, as you do not sleep as well late in the day as the cat comes on you." Darien smiled, already knowing him so well.
He rubbed against Darien happily. "Yes, that would work well."
"Good." Sighing, Darien petted his back. "I wish... Well. What I wish is neither here nor there, hmm?"
He raised his head and looked down at Darien. "What is it you wish? If I could do something to make your wishes happen..."
"You are good to me, my love." He got a kiss for his trouble, Darien's lips rubbing the worry away. "I just wish we could stop running, find a place for us, and stay there."
He nodded. "Yes, Darien. That is my wish as well. When we have taken care of what hunts us, yes?"
"Yes. Yes. I had thought I would always roam... but I need not hunt again except to feed us." A place of their own sounded wonderful. A territory for the cat, a place for the man to come home to.
He stretched and then curled again on Darien. "Yes. I would agree to that. We will find a place. After. I do not wish to kill just to kill in a place I would call home."
"No. I would not either." Nodding, Darien yawned. "Later."
He thought perhaps Darien might forget he had first watch, but finally Darien sat up, putting him gently aside.
"May I put my head in your lap, Darien?" He was not sure he should admit it, but he slept better if he were touching Darien.
"Of course." Smiling down at him, Darien patted his own leg, inviting. “I would never deny that."
On impulse he gave Darien a long kiss and then he curled up next to where Darien sat and put his head on the muscled thigh.
He purred softly. A place of their own would be nice, but he was already home.
***
The den was a small cave, too shallow to afford them much protection from the elements, but just right to be heavily defensible from a predator. They moved in the day after Ropur found it in the night, lying low until night fell again. Then Darien went out and made traps, traps only a good hunter would know. Whatever was after them had to be good at hunting, though, so some of his traps were of his own creation, meant to trap a man, not an animal.
After he had them all set up, he went to find Ropur, who sat grooming, tail and ears flicking. "Come, my Ropur, and see where the traps are."
The cat went with him, staying right at his side, in fact staying close enough they were touching with every step. By the time they were circling back to the cave, Ropur's ears were flat against his head, all his fur standing on end.
"What?" He practically whispered it, knowing Ropur could not answer in words, but nervous all the same.
Ropur pushed him toward the cave, growling low. There was something out there, and not very far off if Ropur's behavior was anything to judge by.
What amazed him was that he hadn't felt it. He was getting soft, living with someone who had much better hearing and eyesight than he did. "Back to the cave, my Ropur. And quickly."
Ropur put on a burst of speed, waiting for him to catch up before going even faster. The beast pressed him to the back of their shallow defense, taking up position near the mouth of the cave and growling, the sound low, dangerous.
He supposed that it was best that whatever came after them was doing it at night, when Ropur was at his best, but it frustrated him that he had to strain his senses. The hair rose on the back of his neck, and Darien held his breath.
Ropur went silent, nose going into the air as he scented. Ropur's whole body was tense, vibrating.
The attack came with no more warning than that, a sleek, feline body sliding out of the darkness like a ghost, tangling with Ropur so quickly that Darien could not even raise his spear. And then he could not tell in the dark which cat was which. The snarls and growls were low, intense, punctuated now and then by screams of pain.
That he was focused on Ropur and the cat he fought with was nearly Darien's undoing. It was only some instinct he couldn't name that had him flinching, the arrow missing him by the narrowest of margins.
So narrow that the skin on his arm burned, blood trickling down. Only a scratch, but so, so close. He faded back into the cave, focused on the dark now, all of his senses straining as he fell into hunter mode, ignoring Ropur's desperate battle. Ropur would either win or not, but it would do his cat no good if Darien died of carelessness.
There, a shadow among shadows in the rocks, and Darien hefted his spear sent it flying, leading his target a good handspan to the right. His hunter knew he was also hunted now and the shadow disappeared behind a tree.
The cats continued their yowling and snarling. It couldn't be good, as long as it had lasted. Whoever was the victor, there would be vicious wounds, he was sure of it.
Darien slipped out of the cave as Ropur and his assailant rolled to one side, feeling closed in too much inside. Now he could use his own bow, and he unstrung it, searching the shadows for the one shaped like a man.
He strained his eyes in the darkness, the lack of moon this night both a blessing and a curse -- the same dark that hid him also hid his assailant.
A hint of a movement came from his left and he caught sight of his hunter, the man slowly circling toward the cave. Darien sent an arrow whizzing at the man, hoping to take him down, and if not, at least make him feel pain, know fear.
His shot found a home in the man's upper thigh, going deep in the meaty part and bringing him down. The man cried out, dropped and rolled, disappearing in the underbrush.
Yes. Darien wanted to go and finish him off, but he knew it could be a ruse to draw him in incautiously. He circled, avoiding the pit he'd dug earlier, placing his feet with great care.
The cats had gone silent, the whole forest preternaturally still. It w
as unnerving.
He went on the most indirect route toward his fallen adversary, hoping against hope that Ropur was all right. He could not worry about that now. He had to have all of his faculties. He lifted the underbrush with his notched arrow, ready to let fly at any movement.
And yet, he was still caught off guard, his feet swept out from under him, his opponent having been still as a rock. Darien flailed for balance, finally having to drop his bow. He flung it as far in the opposite direction as he could, not wanting his opponent to use it against him. His hands became his weapons, and he lashed out, connecting with flesh.
His enemy hit back, but the blow glanced weakly off his shoulders, the one to his stomach was sturdier, firmer. It knocked the breath out of him for a moment, but he kept moving anyway, rolling away and gaining his feet again, searching for an opening.
His attacker also went to his feet, but from the way the man was listing, it was clear he was injured. Still, an injured quarry was often more dangerous, desperate.
They circled each other carefully.
The man moved... like a mirror image of himself. Not just a hunter. A Hunter. Darien shook his head. He had never met another, not since his uncle. He feinted, pushing toward the uninjured side before switching up with his skinning knife in hand toward the vulnerable, injured side.
The other Hunter twisted out of the way at the last minute, but went down hard. Twisting on the ground, he rolled out of the way, evading Darien.
Darien stifled a curse, knowing this needed to end, and soon. He rushed, his feet digging into the ground to launch him forward. His move caught the man off-guard and though a punch landed hard against his hip, his forward momentum pushed his dagger into the man's heart.
Dark brown eyes widened, the look surprised as a gurgling breath sounded.
Yes. Yes, he would have had that look, if it was him. Darien felt the man's lifeblood pour out over his hand and he wanted to vomit, knowing he had killed this man, knowing it was kill or be killed.
There was a growl, low and menacing and a cat sprang from the trees, pouncing on the Hunter and ripping his throat out. It was his own Ropur, bloodied, one ear badly torn, but alive.
"Ropur! My Ropur, stop. It is over." Darien dared not touch Ropur, not if he was still in a killing frenzy.
Ropur snarled and swatted the dead man's head, tearing four strips along his cheek. Then the big cat came at him, tongue licking at the blood on his hands, the growls soft and worried.
"Shhh. Shhh." Oh, his poor Ropur. He stroked the uninjured side of Ropur's face. "Please, let us go to the cave so I can look at your wounds."
Ropur purred for a moment, still licking, trying to clean the blood from his hands, his clothes. Then the cat took several limping steps, turning back to make sure he followed.
Darien stood, his own gait labored as bruises bloomed on his skin. They got back to the cave and the carcass of the dead cat lay just outside the entrance, it's face twisted horribly. Darien sighed. The threat... well. It seemed neither he nor Ropur felt it anymore.
"I am going to chance a fire."
Ropur made a soft noise, settling on the cave floor with a whimper. The cat started to groom, slowly, obviously in pain. He worried what it would be like when Ropur went through the change.
Darien made a small fire, deflecting the smoke out with some large, wet leaves, and went to get water to heat. His bones felt brittle, his body old. When he came close, Ropur's tongue slid out, licking his skin. His Ropur made a soft noise, eyes looking at his.
Oh, how he wished sometimes Ropur could control the change, could speak to him. His legs gave out and he sat, his hand coming to rest on Ropur's neck.
They had done it.
Together.
Maybe there was hope for their dream after all.
***
Ropur hurt, but he was alive and his wounds were not mortal.
And Darien too was alive and not dying.
It was not as good as they could have hoped for, but it was far better than it could have been.
He worried about the approaching dawn. He could feel it coming, deep in his bones. He did not know if the wounds he had were tolerable as the man.
He whined softly.
Darien stroked him even as he awakened, his man having dozed off some time ago. "Ropur?"
He purred and licked Darien's hand. He needed Darien for the change.
Joints popped as Darien sat up, one hand touching him all the while. "Nearly morning."
Yes. He purred and licked Darien's hand again, putting his head on one thigh. Darien would understand his fears for his manself, Ropur was sure. If he needed help, Darien would give it.
"My Ropur." He got a smile, those dark eyes shining, Darien's braid brushing his whiskers.
He purred softly and closed his eyes, letting Darien distract him from the pain he knew was coming. Darien stroked him, waiting with him. Low words poured over him, nonsensical, in some language Ropur had not heard before. He purred softly, relaxing into the touches, with the sounds.
The change took him by surprise, distracted as he'd been by Darien. He groaned as his bones stretched and contracted, the pain of his injuries adding to the usual pain of the change.
He whimpered, body shaking.
"Oh, my Ropur." The soft touches helped ease him, helped make it better. "I am so sorry."
The fur was suddenly gone from his body, leaving him cold and naked and he shuddered as the last of the change took his body, leaving him panting, curled against Darien's warmth. "Darien..."
"Yes. Love." Darien covered him carefully, holding him. "Do you... are you hurt?"
"I ache. My heart most of all, Darien. The cat? Was one of my kind. A warrior. They are sent out to take care of threats."
"Oh." Darien stroked his hair, his cheek. "The man was a Hunter, Ropur."
"Our own kind have banded together to take us out, Darien. I don't understand. I left as they wanted. I will never go back."
"There must be some reason, Ropur. I do not know... perhaps we should know. If they sent one, the might send more.'
Ropur nodded. "Yes, that worries me as well. As I am now, I am weakened and would have a hard time winning a fight."
Darien went silent, thinking, petting him. He liked that about Darien, that he considered every angle. Darien was much better at puzzles than he was. For a cat, he was smart. But he didn't always think the way a human did.
He rubbed his cheek against Darien's leg, trying to ignore the aches and pains.
"Maybe we should go to your tribe? I could always pretend to have killed their warrior as a cat. Find out why he was sent."
Ropur shrank away from the idea. "I swore I would never go back."
"Then we must go where your tribe would not... or. Or make them believe you are dead?"
Ropur tilted his head, hand reaching back for the marks behind his ear. "I am not sure how to do that."
"I am not either... I just. I do not want to run from this for the rest of my life, love." Darien took his hand, keeping him from worrying at the wounds.
"No, I do not want that either, my Darien. I want to stay with you in peace."
"So..." Darien thought for long moments. "Is there a way. Something that your tribe would know was you?"
He fingered the marks again behind his ear. "These," he said softly. "They mark me as a member of the tribe, as me."
Looking at him seriously, Darien motioned to the other cat. "We... we could send them a message."
He shook his head. "They will know that was not me."
"No. I mean if we sent them that cat, with your marks in its claws." So earnest. Darien was grasping at straws, Ropur knew, but straws were all they had.
"They would be suspicious if we sent them the cat, Darien. Seeing as he's dead." Still, there was something to the idea that struck him as a possibility. "But when he does not return they will send someone for him..."
"Do you think so?" Eyes lighting from within, Darien bounced, jo
stling him. "If we could find another cat. We could tear that piece of flesh from it to match..."
"And cut it from me and leave it in the cat's claws!" He nodded, smiling widely at Darien. "It could work!"
"It could. What about the hunter? Do you think they will believe you killed him? And what about me. They might not even know of me, and if they do, my kind are notorious for cutting our losses." Oh, the hope on that dear face. "Yes. We could do it."
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