Archive of Our Own

Ever since he could remember, Buck had been a lone wolf.

Sure, he was born into a pack, but that pack had been torn and frayed, and he’d existed on the edges of it for his whole life. The only true pack bond seemed to exist between him and Maddie, as even the bond between his parents seemed overshadowed by something.

He’d left the almost shattered ties behind and embraced his life as a nomad like many lone wolves did, traveling, searching, chasing after something. He learned on his own how to control the shift, how to find others, how to figure out those that would kill him for it. He was on his own for the most part, so he learned how to connect to himself, seamlessly switching between both forms, quickly figuring out the ability to use his were heritage to his advantage even in human form. There was actually a passage of time – a couple of years – where Buck had spent more time in his wolf form than the other. And yet, the danger of losing himself the way so many others had before him never came into reality. He was too in tune with himself, understanding himself as a whole instead of two parts. He wasn’t a wolf or a human, he was a werewolf. Comprehending that opened many doors for him.

Things changed when he came to LA. None of his friends and coworkers were werewolves or similar, no matter how close Buck was with them, no matter how hard he tried, they would never be pack to him. And even to this day, most of them didn’t fully understand Buck, or even Maddie, but they didn’t need to because they accepted them.

Only with the coming of his new family and the return of his sister, his and Maddie’s pack bond would soon fizzle out to an outside thing as she made her own pack with Chim and Jee-Yun, despite Chimney not being a were. Those were the sort of things that happened – pack bonds would stretch and change, always exist, but between parents and their kids, as well as siblings, they would always move away to allow the search for one’s own pack.

Buck had tried. He’d looked. Pack didn’t necessarily mean something romantic, but it was something deeper than a regular family, and not even Bobby was pack to Buck’s instincts. None of his partners had been, not even Taylor whom he’d invited into his own home. It wasn’t that werewolves weren’t capable of having packs with humans. It just hadn’t worked for Buck so far.

He moved through it. He was happy. He loved his work and his family, he was living in a city that was exceptionally open and supportive of weres, he was surrounded by love. It was all he wanted.

Still, there were nights he woke up half-shifted and whining, trying to sink his teeth into dreams so fleeting he could barely remember them. The only thing he remembered was deep yearning, and he knew. He was still longing for it, for a pack. For someone out there who would become his compliment the same way Chim had become Maddie’s.

Sometimes, this desire got to him. Mostly on the full moons when he was most in touch with his instincts. He liked to go into the woods to run those nights, meet other groups of wolves – other lone ones like him, or packs that decided on a moon run. It was one of the only things that allowed Buck to work that burning longing out of him.

It felt good, but sometimes, Buck got too far into himself and forgot to shift back. One time, he ran all the way to Orange County, walking around looking lost and confused, and then they had called animal control on him. Fortunately, Eddie had been looking for him already and had come just before they could take a snapping and growling Buck to a shelter.

After that, there was a chance that whenever Buck went for a run, one of his friends was out there with him. After Buck got hit by lightning, he had made use to of the privilege of weres to make sure he rarely worked full moon nights and the day after. These days, at least one of the others was off with him. They let him run and do his thing, but they were there to bring him back if he drifted too far, and they wouldn’t let him leave their sights too much.

Still, it was a sweet deal. He was still missing something. And at this point, there was a small part of Buck that feared he would always be missing something.

And every now and then, Buck would feel something in his blood. He was so in tune with his instincts that he always knew how to interpret them, but it still came to him as a surprise when he noticed the way he was affected by Tommy Kinard.

He was an old friend of Chim and Hen’s and a former member of the 118. He was professional, a skilled pilot, and a bit off his rocker. He flew them into a hurricane and got them out of there alive. He was really cool, Buck thought, and he wondered if there was some way to stay in contact with him after everything was said and done. His instincts were telling him to get closer, and so was the rest of him.

It had taken a couple of weeks after the fact for Buck to grow the courage to get Tommy’s number from Chimney and reach out. He also started asking Hen and Chim and Bobby about him, and they told him a little of Tommy’s time at the 118. Then, Buck took to googling him and trying to find his social media. It looked like Tommy was painfully offline. He did have a Facebook and an Instagram account, but he rarely posted. Still, from the few meagre things Buck could find, he tried to understand.

But there was nothing that really stood out. Besides him being incredibly handsome and strong and he seemed so friendly and warm and smart. All of those were good traits and would pull Buck in any day, but none of it was enough to have something gnawing on his stomach with want and need. There was something more there, Buck was sure of it, but he couldn’t really put it into words.

Buck finally reached out to Tommy after days of agonizing about what to say to him. He started light and easy, asking Tommy for a tour of Harbor station. Unfortunately, their day got cut short because Tommy had prior plans with Eddie, but Buck felt like rolling up in a happy ball anyway over the fact that Tommy had made time for him despite that.

They started texting after. At first, just a couple of little things. Buck had offered to take Tommy out for a beer, wanting to spend more time with him and figure out why everything inside of him felt such a need to stay close to him. Because of work load, however, they kept having to cancel getting a drink, and Buck didn’t understand why he was so disappointed every single time. And he normally understood himself so well, so he was sort of growing obsessed with it.

In the end, he figured it out entirely by accident.

It started like this: Tommy texted Buck, asking him whether he was willing to help Tommy out. And Buck really had to rein himself in to not text him, Anything, with a hundred exclamation points. Tommy needed help sorting out a couple of things. His house wasn’t huge, but he had a small room upstairs he didn’t use for anything but storage, and he wanted to clean it out and maybe build a hobby room, or something along those lines.

Buck was eager to help. Any reason to hang out with Tommy. And there was deep excitement rumbling up in his chest like a satisfied growl at the thought of being invited into Tommy’s home.

That morning, Buck woke up early, buzzing with nerves knowing that he was going to see Tommy later. It would be the first time meeting him face to face again after the cruise ship, and for some reason, he was nervous about meeting him again.

After forcing himself to have breakfast that he had trouble swallowing down from the way his throat felt tight, he stood in front of his closet and went through his clothes, feeling unhappy with every piece he pulled out. Nothing seemed to strike his fancy, and in the end, he couldn’t explain why he felt so particular about it.

As it was, he spent so much time trying to choose his outfit – and he settled on a tank top and basketball shorts, if he was helping Tommy move around stuff, that probably made sense – that he only had time for a quick shower, and not enough time to style his hair as he usually would. He really could only towel-dry it and rush out of the door, because he and Tommy had agreed to meet at 12 and Buck still needed to get through LA traffic to Tommy’s place.

He arrived just in time, feeling jittery, still, but at least the pit in his stomach over being late was gone. He parked in front of Tommy’s house, stepping out and taking it in. It had a small front yard, and a dark wooden patio leading up to the front door. It looked nice. The neighborhood smelled of sweet flowers and wet earth – lots of lawns, lots of flowerbeds, lots of gardens. Buck felt himself relax.

Walking up the stairs to the door, Buck looked around. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. There was a simple welcome mat in front of him, and a small bench next to the door. It didn’t look like it would be comfortable to sit on for a prolonged time, but enough for a short moment, perhaps to take off muddy shoes or something.

Taking a deep breath, Buck knocked on the door, trying to will his heartbeat to slow down. He tried not to strain his ears to listen through the door, but he couldn’t help it, and he felt his veins fill with excitement when he heard footsteps. He had already memorized the way Tommy sounded when he walked, so he knew it was him. A part of him had been worried Tommy had invited other friends over to help him out, too. Buck wanted to have him to himself. He didn’t understand why.

The door opened, revealing a smiling Tommy behind. He looked great, a lot less tense than he had the night they’d met. He had a bit of stubble, clearly on his days off if he hadn’t shaved, and was wearing blue shorts and a gray hoodie with cut off sleeves. God, he looked strong. Buck had to ask him what his workout routine was. He always loved to take pointers from other guys.

“Hey, Evan,” Tommy greeted him, his smile growing brighter around Buck’s name. “Thanks for helping. Come in.”

He moved out of the way so Buck could enter his house. Buck felt blood heat up his cheeks, and he dug his fingers into the fabric of his top. His palms were sweaty for some reason, and he felt his heart beat faster in his chest again. He’d never been so nervous about a new friendship. But he really wanted Tommy to like him. Tommy seemed so cool, and he was older and seemed more experienced than Buck. He wanted him to like him.

“Uh, ye-yeah, no problem,” Buck stammered. He needed to get a grip.

Tommy smiled at him. “You look good, by the way. I like the hair.”

Buck continued to stammer his way through a thank you, feeling like his head was about to explode from how hot it felt.

Tommy showed him the door to the garage because that was where they were supposed to bring all the stuff. It was apparently a huge thing, especially considering that Tommy’s house wasn’t even that big. Eddie had told Buck a bit about the garage – and Buck had had trouble listening to him because he’d felt himself getting agitated at the thought of Eddie being invited into Tommy’s home but not him. But apparently, the garage was big enough for a Muay Thai set up and a car lift.

They started off carrying the boxes in said room down the stairs and to the garage. Tommy wanted to look through their contents in a room with more space. Realistically, he could have probably done that on his own, but Buck was glad he had asked for help. Mostly because Buck just wanted to hang out with him and didn’t know how to broach the subject.

As they carried the first boxes down to Tommy’s garage, Tommy made Buck wait outside the door for a moment, looking around.

“Everything alright?” Buck asked.

“Yeah, just looking for my cat,” Tommy said. “He’s not allowed in the garage, but he tries every time I open the door.”

“Oh, because of the tools?” Buck asked. If Tommy spent time working on cars in there, he’d assume that he had that sort of stuff lying around.

But something about Tommy’s reaction made Buck suspicious. He laughed quietly, almost to himself, more a huff of breath than anything else.

“You could say that,” he said, and that didn’t sound like something someone would usually say when they agreed.

It wasn’t enough to set off alarm bells, not really. Buck’s instincts were good, he would have noticed something off about Tommy already if there was anything. But it still made him think. Why had Tommy said it like that? Or was Buck just being overly sensitive? Eddie hadn’t mentioned anything weird, but sometimes, Buck felt like something weird could bite Eddie in the ass and he still wouldn’t notice.

Buck pushed that to the back of his mind. He was finally spending time with Tommy again after weeks of texting and rescheduled plans. Maybe he could actually invite Tommy out for that beer once they were done. Maybe they could make this a regular thing.

They continued bringing all of the boxes downstairs first. Tommy kept looking around for his cat, but it hadn’t showed up yet. Buck stayed on the lookout, too, and he could smell its presence in the house, but he couldn’t even hear it.

“Well, he doesn’t like people,” Tommy finally said when they’d brought all the stuff to the door and his cat still hadn’t come out. “He probably won’t come out as long as you’re here.”

Buck felt himself pout a little bit at that. “I’m a friendly guy,” he said.

“Sure,” Tommy agreed with an easy smile. “But Odin really doesn’t like people. He likes me, and he tolerates my neighbor so she can feed him when I’m gone for longer periods. But other than that, he stays far away from everyone.”

For some reason, Buck felt unhappy about the prospect of Tommy’s cat not liking him. There was this myth that animals didn’t like shifters, but that was just a conspiracy theory. Animals understood that there was a difference between shifters and humans, but as long as the weres were in their human form, other animals only had as many problems with them as with humans.

“Alright, then let’s start. If we’re quick, he probably won’t come out until we’re done.” Tommy picked up one box, balancing it on his hip so he could open the door with his free hand.

Picking up another one of the small boxes on the floor, Buck followed Tommy into the garage, making sure to close the door behind him just in case the cat had just been lying in wait this entire time for them to open the door. And that was when things got weird.

The air inside the garage smelled strangely sweet, like pollen. There was an undertone to it, something that smelled metallic to Buck. Like an undercurrent of blood. It put his teeth on edge. His hair stood on end. He swiveled his head as if he could find some sort of threat, but there was nothing. Tommy didn’t seem to notice anything, but then, humans tended to be a bit more oblivious to threats. Something was off, and Buck had trouble remembering what he was here for.

His throat felt tight, and that’s when Buck froze up entirely. He cleared his throat a couple of times, but it didn’t help. He’d only come across this thing a couple of times. He wasn’t allergic to anything, at least not to flowers. Naproxen, but he doubted that there was aerial naproxen around.

“You okay?” Tommy’s voice came from the door, but it seemed far away.

Eyes flitting all over the corners, Buck got stuck on a little shelf right next to the workbench. It held some plastic bins that were probably filled with tools and other useful things – the garage was clean, nothing strung across the floor – but interestingly, it also held a couple of flower pots. All of them held the same kind of plant, a long stem with helmet-shaped blossoms along its length on both sides, blooming in beautiful, vibrant shades of purple and blue.

It was gorgeous. It made the blood in Buck’s veins turn to ice.

Monkshood. Aconitum. Or, better known as wolfsbane.

Wolfsbane was poisonous to everyone, obviously, and it had initially gotten its name from being used for killing actual wolves back in the day. But there was truth in the name despite the irony. It affected weres and shifters of all kinds even more. The pollen alone was enough to weaken them, touching the plant caused rashes to break out, and wolfsbane poisoning was almost always deadly. There had only been a handful of cases of shifters surviving ingesting the plant.

Regular people didn’t have this stuff, especially not indoors, and not this much of it. If someone had wolfsbane in their house, it was most likely out in the garden, and only one plant or two. Not- not this. This looked planned. Someone had to have taken the time to dig the flowers up, put them in the pots, and keep them cared for.

Fuck, no. Buck couldn’t have been this wrong. His eyes flickered back to Tommy. His instincts hadn’t warned him about him. Nothing had seemed wrong. But this-

The only people who did this, who kept wolfsbane around and close to the house, this much of it, were the hate groups. They’d existed for as long as shifters had, some people who believed that they were created by the devil or whatever, or that they were impure or demons or whatever they could think of. For a while, during the witch hunts, people had also taken it upon themselves to hunt the shifters. Things weren’t like that these days anymore, but there were still people who didn’t want shifters near them, and so, a common practice was to keep wolfsbane around.

“Evan?” Tommy called out to him, looking worried.

Buck’s heart broke. There had to be an explanation, right? His instincts had never been wrong about people before. Sure, he hadn’t trusted his instincts every time, but whenever he didn’t, he got in trouble, so at this point, he tended to listen. And his instincts had told him to get closer to Tommy, not get away from him. There had to be something else.

So, Buck swallowed and decided to talk to Tommy instead of just running out as fast as he could. “That’s wolfsbane,” he said, pointing at the flowers. “Why the hell do you have wolfsbane in your house?”

He watched Tommy stiffen. And then, something took over his face, at the same time that his scent turned acrid with it. Fear. Had he realized what Buck was? Was he afraid of him? But Chimney and Hen had never said anything about him hating shifters, even during his time in what they’d called the boy’s club.

“Listen,” Tommy said, slowly approaching Buck with his hands slightly raised. “You don’t have to be scared of me, okay. That’s why I have this stuff.”

That didn’t make any sense. Why would Tommy having wolfsbane in his garage be a reason for Buck to not be afraid of him? But then, Tommy continued, and Buck finally understood what he was talking about, and why the hell he’d been so obsessed with getting close to Tommy.

“It helps me stave off- you know, the shifting and stuff.” Tommy looked extremely uncomfortable telling Buck about it.

Shifting. Buck’s brain was running in the background as his mouth was already speaking. He hadn’t processed it yet, not fully, but he was about to.

“That can’t be healthy,” was what came out of him first. “I mean, I’ve only been in here for a minute and I can already feel my throat growing scratchy.”

Tommy looked at him in surprise, then his eyes wandered up and down his form, piercing into him as if he could see through him and find the truth. “Wait, you’re-”

Buck nodded. He was. A werewolf. And so was Tommy, he realized a second later. A werewolf who kept wolfsbane in his garage, and who knew how long he had done that. Why the hell was he doing that? It’s as Buck had said, that couldn’t be healthy.

“Why- why would you keep this?” he asked. “You’re poisoning yourself. How long-”

It seemed like Tommy didn’t quite know what to do or say. He clearly hadn’t noticed that Buck was a were, and Buck hadn’t noticed it in Tommy, either. If he had been keeping the wolfsbane for a while, then that could explain it. Tommy didn’t smell like a shifter, and Buck would assume the wolfsbane was dampening his own senses.

“Let’s- let’s put a pin in this,” Buck suggested, gesturing at the boxes. “Go back inside. If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.”

That’s how they ended up on Tommy’s couch, each of them with a bottle of water in their hand. Buck had already downed half of his, but Tommy hadn’t even opened the lid. He was staring forward. His shoulders were tense, pulled up to his ears, and he wasn’t looking at Buck. And Buck tried to be patient and understanding, but Tommy had always been happy to hear from him – sure, you couldn’t really hear tone through texts, but still. This was a whole new side, and Buck didn’t like it. He felt like Tommy was freezing him out.

“So,” Buck started, dragging out the sound. “Wolfsbane.”

Tommy sighed deeply. “Yeah,” he confirmed. “Wolfsbane.”

“Why?” Because that was the big thing that Buck couldn’t wrap his head around. He’d never met another shifter who kept wolfsbane around.

“I told you. It staves off the shifting. Keeps it all locked away.” Tommy turned his head to look at Buck now. There was nothing in his scent or his behavior that read as a were to Buck.

“Yeah, but why would you do that? California is one of the best places for weres in the US-”

Tommy scoffed. “In LA, maybe,” he said. “But where I’m from, you better keep your mouth shut about these things if you don’t want to be turned into a novelty rug.”

And so, Tommy started explaining. He’d grown up in a small town, and despite the town being in California which had been dubbed one of the safest states for shifters, it was anything but. A tiny town where everyone knew everyone, and not being religious wasn’t an option, and everything that made you slightly different made you the devil’s brood.

Tommy’s mother had been a were, apparently coming from a long line of shifters all the way back in Italy. “Old blood,” Tommy said. “Powerful blood.” Which would explain why Tommy was a were when only one of his parents was, too. The older the family, the older the blood, the more likely that descendants would also be weres.

His mother hadn’t been hateful of her heritage, but she kept it a secret anyway, and Tommy’s father definitely didn’t like that part about his wife. Or his son, it seemed. Once Tommy showed signs of being a were as well, his father had decided to keep wolfsbane in and around the house to keep them unshifted, and to keep them separated from their whole self. Buck realized it for what it was – not necessarily fear of weres, but a need for control.

When Tommy was seventeen, he graduated early and ran off to the army. Back then, DADT was still in place, and that didn’t just affect sexuality, but also whether someone was a shifter or not. And- Buck hadn’t known that. He hadn’t known it had been only recently that shifters could be openly part of the army. He felt a little cowed over it.

So, during his time in the army, Tommy had had to deal with the worry of getting a discharge over being gay – and Buck hadn’t known that, either, it hadn’t really come up, but he couldn’t help but think back and try to remember whether Tommy had dropped any hints – but also getting a discharge over being a shifter. Back in the day, shifters in the army used to carry these concentrated aconitum pills, not to consume, but their presence alone suppressed shifting. Once Tommy had left the army, he’d simply never stopped.

The boys’ club at the 118 hadn’t been thrilled over shifters, either – go figure – and at this point, Tommy said, it was more a habit than anything else. But he’d had to deal with people treating him differently once they found out, or being actively afraid of him even though he hadn’t shifted since he was a teenager.

Since he was a teenager. And he was 40 now. More than half his life in disconnect to his other side, weakening himself with the non-stop presence of wolfsbane. No wonder Buck’s instincts had gone crazy about Tommy, he needed help. And who better to help him than Buck, who had never really existed in a space of either-or like many other weres did in their youth.

“You need to stop doing this wolfsbane thing,” Buck said.

Tommy snorted. “Yeah, right.” He wrapped his arms around himself. “Like that’s gonna do anything.”

“Y-yes-uh- yes, it will?” Buck said, but he sounded so unsure it came out more like a question.

“I’ve grown used to this. That’s why I had to get that many flowers in the garage. One wasn’t gonna cut it anymore, so I had to stock up. At this point, it’s probably so ingrained in me that it’s going to cause more problems going off of it.”

That made it sound like some sort of medication, not a systematic poisoning of himself to keep part of himself locked away. On the other hand, Buck should probably try and actually put it in perspective. Tommy clearly grew up in an incomplete pack. So did Buck, but at least both of his parents and his sister were shifters, and they had never hidden that from Buck. Buck had been allowed to grow up as a werewolf, and be a werewolf every day, instead of being human all days and a wolf on full moons like many people tried to live their lives. Tommy had clearly grown up never being taught to be both. Tommy hadn’t gone into detail about what his father had said, but Buck could assume what he’d said, what he’d taught Tommy – that he was a human with a monstrous side that had to be kept in check.

But Buck understood being a were so well, and maybe he could help Tommy understand it, too. He couldn’t imagine living so disconnected from himself, and he was sure Tommy must have been feeling it all along. Things had to change for him.

“Okay, but- I think this is why I’m here, okay?” Buck said.

“Why you’re- here?” Tommy asked, stumbling over the words.

“Yeah,” Buck said, trying to explain what he’d felt the whole time. “My instincts are really good – better than most. And they kept bringing me back to you, and I didn’t understand, but now I do. You’re a were like me, and you need help. I can-”

Tommy interrupted him. “Your instincts dragged you to me because they realized I’m a werewolf when you didn’t.” His voice sounded flat. “And that’s why you texted me.”

Buck suddenly felt extremely wrong-footed, like he’d said something wrong. Tommy was just concluding out loud what Buck had told him, nothing bad, nothing different, but for Buck felt like something had gone wrong. This wasn’t supposed to go like this.

“I think it’s best if you leave,” Tommy said slowly.

“What?” Buck went ramrod straight, his hands moving up and forward in an aborted motion as if he was about to reach out and touch Tommy. “Wait- Tommy-”

“No, I think I want you to leave,” Tommy reiterated, his voice sounding stronger now. He even sounded and looked- irritated? But his scent-

He was hurt. Disappointed. By something. By Buck?

“No- no, I can-”

“You don’t know me,” Tommy interrupted, got up, and started herding Buck off the couch and to the door. “And I guess I should have known you don’t want to get to know me.”

“Ob-obviously I do?” Buck retorted, but it didn’t sound very confident.

His feet stumbled backwards as Tommy kept advancing on him, pushing him out. From one moment to the next, he felt like he was an intruder in Tommy’s home. He wasn’t supposed to be in here. Tommy didn’t want him near. He looked angry, sure, and even a little sad, and he was exuding the clear demand for Buck to leave right now. Buck was normally the strongest in the room, he was normally the predator, but right now, he felt like prey, like a deer caught unaware.

It looked like Tommy wasn’t willing to listen to whatever Buck had to say anymore. He just- he essentially just threw him out, and closed the door, and Buck was left standing outside on Tommy’s front porch, feeling the need to tuck his tail between his legs and whine, but in this form, he didn’t have the means. All that was left to do for him was leave, and wonder how things could have taken a turn like that.

-----------------------------------------

It was a week later when the full moon came. Buck had tried texting Tommy, but he hadn’t replied to a single one, and Buck didn’t have the guts to try anything else. He should probably be taking that hint, but his insides were churning at the thought of leaving Tommy in the past. They’d been- they’d been becoming friends. And Buck really enjoyed texting with Tommy, and he’d felt so comfortable around him, and he didn’t understand why Tommy had chased him off.

Full moons were a special time for Buck, but he couldn’t enjoy it. He didn’t particularly feel like going out, like running, like inhabiting his other form. This idea that full moons forced shifters to turn, or that they could only shift on full moons were translation errors and ignorant theories. They could shift whenever, but the pull of the moon did compel them more than other days. Still, it didn’t hurt them to not shift on full moons. Sometimes, it made them restless or caused things like difficulty falling asleep, but other than that, nothing changed.

Buck did feel it, the feeling as if something was trying to pull on his bones, but he ignored it. He didn’t think he would feel comfortable in his other form right now. He had taken the night off, though, and despite not wanting to go out, he also didn’t feel like working right now.

He’d been a downer at the station to the point he had snarled at Bobby yesterday on shift. He couldn’t stop thinking about Tommy, and replaying the day they’d met. He kept thinking about what he could have done differently, how he could have broached the subject better so that Tommy didn’t get defensive. How he could have made Tommy understand what he’d been trying to say.

To this day, Buck still couldn’t explain why he couldn’t let it go. His instincts had been so focused on Tommy, and they still were, everything inside of Buck crying out to see Tommy again, to get close to him, but look where that had ended.

With a sigh, Buck turned over in his bed, trying to get comfortable. The moon was slowly rising, and he could feel the itch on his skin, but it was easily ignored. Still, he couldn’t find rest. His head was running around in circles, coming back to the same point over and over again.

He probably would have spent all night here, turning over and over in his bed, but he was interrupted in that endeavor by his phone vibrating.

Groaning, Buck turned back over, grabbing his phone blindly. Perhaps it was Bobby who was checking in. Or maybe he had to come on shift because some big disaster had happened. Buck wasn’t sure if he wanted to go on shift right now-

When he saw the caller ID, Buck suddenly felt wide awake. He shot up into a seated position, fumbling with his phone to accept the call.

He pressed his phone to his ear, asking breathlessly, “Tommy? Hey, Tommy?”

For a moment, there was nothing, and Buck feared he’d accidentally declined the call when he was tapping at it wildly. He didn’t dare to pull the phone away to check, and after a couple of seconds of silence, he heard a heavy breath on the other side. Then, a pained whimper. His hair stood on end, and his spine straightened. Tommy was hurt? Was he in danger? He needed Buck’s help-

“Fuck,” Tommy murmured, word garbled as if he was speaking through a mouthful of spit. “It- it’s getting bad, I didn’t know who to call-”

“What do you mean, where are you?” Buck asked frantically, kicking the covers off of his legs.

Stumbling out of bed, he wedged his phone between his ear and shoulder as he looked around for his jeans that he’d thrown into a corner when he’d gotten ready for bed. He grabbed them, pulling them over his boxers, grabbing socks and a zip-up hoodie before he made his way down the stairs in the darkness.

For a few terrifying seconds, Tommy didn’t answer. The only indicator that he hadn’t hung up was his heavy breath still audible to Buck.

“At home,” Tommy finally answered as if through gritted teeth. “Garage. Key in a pot.”

He was asking Buck for help. He needed him there. There was not a single doubt in Buck’s mind. He needed to go to him right now. He was in the process of stuffing his feet into his sneakers, looking around frantically for his keys. He didn’t even know what was happening to Tommy, and he didn’t think he would get a proper answer if he asked. All that mattered was that Tommy needed him there.

“I’ll be right there,” he promised. “Hold on, I’m coming.”

He sped through the streets of LA, white-knuckling the steering wheel. He didn’t care about breaking speed limits. If they wanted to stop him, he’d shift and run the rest of the way. He wouldn’t let them keep him away. He needed to get to Tommy.

When he parked his truck in front of Tommy’s house, the first thing he noticed was that the windows were dark. Not a single light seemed to be on. It almost looked like nobody was home. But Tommy’s car was parked outside of his garage, so he couldn’t have left in the time it took Buck to get to his place.

The night air smelled as it always did – of LA traffic, exhaust, of dry dust and of the ocean salt. He tried to find a hint of Tommy, but he couldn’t, telling him that Tommy hadn’t been outside in a couple of hours at least. Looking around, he couldn’t see anyone, and he couldn’t hear anything, either. It didn’t seem like he was under attack.

Buck tried the front door first. He looked through the flower pots on the window sill, and indeed found a key buried in one of them. He unlocked the door, stepped inside, and locked it behind him again. If it was unlocked, and there were no signs of a break-in, then whatever was troubling Tommy did not come from an outside source.

In the dark house, Buck found his way without bumping into anything thanks to his senses. He only halted in his steps when he saw something low on the ground, something reflective from the light of a passing car outside. Focusing on that spot, Buck could guess the outline of a big, fluffy cat.

He hadn’t met Tommy’s cat Odin when he’d been here, but in the darkness, he could see a single eye staring back at him. For a moment, they did just that – stare at each other. Buck remembered Tommy saying that Odin didn’t like people. Buck hoped that didn’t mean he attacked people in his free time.

Odin made a little noise and turned around, taking a couple of steps into the house. When Buck stayed put, he turned around and made a louder noise. Buck couldn’t speak to animals, but he didn’t need to in order to decipher this. Odin wanted him to follow him.

Already guessing where Odin was going to lead him, Buck followed him into the shadowed inside of the house until they reached the door to the garage. Tommy had said that, that he was in the garage. Well, he hadn’t said that in as many words, but Buck could read between the lines. Odin meowed in front of the door, weaving back and forth, and Buck shooed him away. He assumed the reason Tommy didn’t let Odin into the garage was the wolfsbane, more than anything else. He wondered if that was it. If the wolfsbane had finally become too much for Tommy to bear.

Disregarding the effect the aconitum could have on him, Buck opened the door, stumbled into the garage, and closed it behind him before Odin could slip through. He could hear the cat yelling on the other side, but he ignored it in favor of turning around to take in the damage.

The first thing he noticed was that the smell of aconitum pollen was gone. His eyes flew to the shelf that the pots had stood in, and he saw they were gone. The shelfs looked to have been cleaned, too. Tommy had gotten rid of them?

His eyes zeroed in on the middle of the room. A camping mattress had been dragged here, without sheets or pillows, only one throw blanket. And on it was Tommy, dressed in a loose top and sweatpants, curling around himself and writhing in what seemed to be pain.

Rushing to him, Buck lowered himself to his knees, reaching out to turn Tommy over on his back. His eyes were closed, and sweat made his hair curl tighter. He groaned softly, not responding when Buck started shaking him by the shoulders and calling his name. Something shifted under Tommy’s skin with a snap.

“Tommy!” Buck yelled, lightly slapping Tommy’s cheek. “Look at me!”

Finally, Tommy’s eyelids lifted. His eyes, dark and blue, were glassy and foggy, seemingly having trouble focusing. There was a loud crack, something else shifting – perhaps Tommy’s shoulder? – and Tommy whimpered in pain.

“What’s going on? Talk to me,” Buck demanded, feeling panic rise in him.

“Moon pull,” Tommy gasped after another couple tense seconds of silence.

That’s what shifters called the instinct on full moon nights to shift. Most could resist it easily, but only if they shifted frequently and had a good balance between their forms, something that Tommy didn’t have. Buck looked back to the shelf. He’d thrown out the wolfsbane. Buck remembered Tommy saying something about old, powerful blood. It had to be in order for his body to burn out the poison this quickly to the point he could actually feel the moon pull already.

He was fighting the shift, Buck realized when he heard Tommy’s spine pop. The pull of the moon was calling to him to shift, and considering he hadn’t in a long time, he couldn’t resist the call. But he was still trying to fight, perhaps out of fear, and it was hurting him.

“You have to relax,” Buck said, and he knew how unhelpful that was.

Tommy didn’t seem to have the strength for a full eyeroll, but he huffed out an unimpressed breath. Buck gave him a weak smile before he grabbed Tommy by the wrists and pulled his arms out from around his body. Tommy pretended to struggle for all of two seconds, but then, he went pliant, allowing Buck to move him around.

It felt strange for only a moment when Buck started bullying Tommy out of his clothes. This wasn’t strange – shifters had to undress, or they would rip through their clothing, and Buck was sure Tommy wouldn’t appreciate that. He spread out the throw blanket on top of Tommy, partly to protect his dignity, and partly because Tommy started shivering in the cool air of the garage.

“Okay,” Buck said, sitting down on the mattress and putting a hand on Tommy’s back. “You gotta shift, Tommy. It’s probably because you didn’t for so long. Your body needs to. You have to stop fighting it.”

“That’s not- how it works,” Tommy ground out haltingly.

“It can, though,” Buck said, trying to sound reassuring. “I can- I can stay. Watch out for you. Make sure you’ll fine.”

Through a clenched jaw, Tommy protested, “I want it to stop.”

“It will, but you have to get through it,” Buck promised.

A choppy breath was his answer. Then, “This is why I had- had the wolfsbane.”

Buck swallowed. “I know. But this is why you needed to get rid of it. You’re a werewolf. You need both sides.” He shifted his hand to squeeze Tommy’s shoulder. “I can help. Please. Just through this.”

He’d leave if Tommy wanted him to, he didn’t want to add to his distress, but everything in Buck fought against that. He wanted to stay so much that it felt like a physical need. Tommy had called him. There was nothing Buck could do except ground him through the shift – that would be the only thing that could take the pain away.

It looked like Tommy would protest, like he would actually ask Buck to leave him alone, but then, there was another shift, another loud crack, near Tommy’s hip this time, followed by a shout of pain, and Tommy nodded his head weakly against the mattress.

“Alright,” he whispered roughly. “Please.”

And so, Buck stayed.

A shift was usually a quick thing of only a couple of seconds, a smooth transition. Changing form between one to the other was meant to be natural and easy. Both forms were their bodies. Both forms belonged to them, were comfortable for them to be in.

This wasn’t any of that. Buck couldn’t remember ever witnessing a shift that took so long, not even the first ones he’d done. He also couldn’t remember a shift ever looking this jagged. There were theories and werewolf fantasy books that described the shift as painful, with bones breaking and muscles shifting, but those came from non-shifters. A real shift didn’t hurt, but this one looked like it did. Tommy wasn’t fighting it anymore, but that was most likely because he was too exhausted at this point.

Buck had to watch the shift happen so slowly, coming down from Tommy’s spine to his limbs, one after the other. Tommy had stopped making sounds, the only thing coming from him his heavy breath. Buck could only sit with him, a hand on his shoulder that was slowly changing from skin to fur, and endure this whole thing for Tommy. He hoped his presence could give Tommy something steady to hold onto. It had never felt so easy for him to ignore the moon pull, himself. He was too focused on Tommy to really notice any of the restlessness he usually felt when he couldn’t shift. He was here for Tommy. Nothing else.

And when it was finally done, and the blanket slipped off of Tommy’s body, the huge, newly-formed wolf barely pushed himself up on his paws, only enough to shift over and drop his heavy head in Buck’s lap. Immediately, Buck buried a hand in his fur, and he could hear the soft thump of Tommy’s tail weakly lifting off of the mattress.

Leaning down, Buck wrapped his arms around Tommy’s neck, and when Tommy didn’t proceed to bite the shit out of him, he nuzzled his nose against the large snout.

“Lookathat,” Buck murmured, brushing his hand through the thick, puffy fur on Tommy’s back. “You did it. You’re beautiful.”

Tommy huffed, his breath hot against Buck’s thigh. His eyes were closed, and he didn’t seem to be in a hurry of opening them, but his ears seemed to be alert, and slowly, his body, still shaking a little from the exhaustion and probably the pain, relaxed.

He was. Beautiful, that was. Massive, really, like wolves tended to be. Only that werewolves – and shifters in general – tended to be a bit bigger than their animal counterparts. Like many werewolves living in the USA, Tommy looked like a northwestern wolf. He was paler than Buck was in his other form, with most of his body taking on a silvery-gray color, the fur turning slightly tawny at his thighs and belly, and dark gray on his head and back. Buck, himself, leaned more tawny in his other form, his fur seeming light brown in parts, with a dark grayish-brown back. He’d seen many other shifters in their other forms, ranging from northwestern to red to Mexican to arctic wolves. But none of them had filled his heart with this much joy.

What he really wanted to do was shift forms, too, but he felt like Tommy needed some peace and quiet after everything. Tommy also didn’t seem to mind Buck touching him. Unless a shifter gave you permission, you didn’t just pet them. You wouldn’t pet them in their human form, either. But amongst shifters, if permission was given, it often was a calming display of affection. Amongst pack, it was grounding, scent marking making them feel like they belonged.

A rough, grumbling noise came from Tommy, and Buck froze for a split second before he realized it was a sound of contentment.

At some point which could probably only been thirty minutes later, Tommy got up to stretch himself and walk around the garage. He sniffed at his tools, nosing at corners and whatever was left scattered on the floor. Buck watched him, looking for signs he was still in pain or had trouble settling with his other form, but right now, Tommy looked fine. Comfortable. His ears were pricked, his tail loose. He walked around for a while, but he didn’t seem like he wanted to leave the garage.

He did push his wet nose into Buck’s face, and Buck couldn’t help but fall into a fit of giggles while Tommy nuzzled him all over his face, pushing Buck down on his back on the mattress. He dropped down next to him then, closing his eyes with a huff.

“Sleepy now?” Buck asked, a hand on Tommy’s head.

Instead of giving any other answer, Tommy shuffled closer until he was pressed up against Buck, eyes closed and head down.

There were definitely better places to sleep than on a bare mattress in the middle of a garage with only a throw blanket and a werewolf to keep him warm, but Buck had also slept in worse places before. He felt good here, safe, with Tommy’s breathing slowing next to him.

Buck woke up because of the morning sun shining through the windows in the garage door. His joints didn’t ache as much as he’d expected, but he wouldn’t say that this was the best night’s sleep he’d ever had. The blanket was only half over him, the other half on Tommy who had seemingly shifted back in his sleep. That shift must have been a lot smoother, considering Buck hadn’t woken up to sounds of pain or similar.

Lifting his hand to his face, Buck realized that he’d left his watch at home. He couldn’t tell what time it was, but he assumed it was quite early in the morning. The small movement seemed to be enough to wake Tommy who was starting to stir next to him.

He turned over on his back from where he’d been lying facing away from Buck, and looked over at him, rubbing his eye with one hand.

“Morning,” Buck greeted him with a slight smile.

For a moment, Tommy froze. Several emotions played over his face, too fast for Buck to try and read them. But after a couple of seconds, Buck could feel Tommy relax again.

“Morning,” he returned.

He sat up, the blanket slipping down and pooling in his lap, and Buck shifted a little so he wouldn’t pull it off of Tommy. He didn’t care about those things. He was a were, and shared many showers at the firehouse, and he’d also never had an issue with it, but perhaps Tommy did. He didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

“You’re here,” Tommy pointed out, sounding surprised.

“You- you called me,” Buck said. He knew that memories could get fuddled during full moon nights, but he hoped that Tommy remembered that.

“Yeah, but.” Tommy shrugged, not meeting Buck’s eyes. “I wasn’t sure you’d show. We didn’t leave it off on a positive note.”

No, they hadn’t. And Buck still didn’t quite know why. But Tommy was speaking to him again, at least now, and he had to ask, he had to know. He had to fix it.

“Why did you tell me to leave?” he asked. “I just wanted to help. And- and you threw out the flowers, so why-”

Tommy let out a deep sigh. “Because I got my hopes up and was disappointed. I just realized that we’ve been reading very different things into our time together, and I was hurt when you told me you were only interested in me because I’m a were.”

“Why?” Buck asked.

He got a flat look as a reply. “Come on, Evan,” Tommy said. But when Buck just stared at him, still clueless, Tommy sighed and looked away. “I’m sweet on you. And with the way we were flirting back and forth, I thought I had a chance. And then you tell me it was only because your instincts could tell I’m a were. So yeah, I needed some time with that.”

“Wha- oh, I mean. Oh. You’re-” Buck swallowed his own words. Was Tommy gay? Buck didn’t care. He was an ally. And besides, there was nothing wrong with a guy being attracted to him. He was flattered!

He was thrilled, actually. He could feel himself perk up. Tommy was into him. Tommy wanted him in some form. And Buck didn’t mind that at all. He very much enjoyed that thought. That and the thought that Tommy had been paying a lot more attention to him that Buck had thought.

“You could have just said something,” Buck finally said.

Tommy snorted next to him. It didn’t sound amused. “Yeah, right,” he snarked. “And get what? A pity fuck?”

Buck was about to protest and tell Tommy that he was straight, but honestly, that didn’t seem like a big deal. Straight men could have sex with other men, too. Buck had seen enough in his time as a bartender and traveling around the states. It couldn’t make that much of a difference, right?

“I mean, you could have really said something,” Buck reiterated with a shrug. “I don’t need feelings for everyone I sleep with.”

Only that didn’t seem to reassure Tommy. “Got it,” he bit out, and started moving as if he was about to get up, and Buck panicked.

There was that scent again, that disappointment and hurt, and Buck’s brain caught up with his mouth in the same split second. God, why did he say that? There was no good way in which Tommy could have taken those words! And now, Tommy would get up, away from Buck after everything, and he’d tell him to leave again, and he was probably embarrassed, too, and he’d never speak to Buck again, and Buck would never see him again or his wolf form, and they’d never run-

Before any of that could happen, Buck moved. He grabbed Tommy by the shoulders and swung his leg over him, planting himself in his lap. Tommy was strong, but Buck wasn’t any smaller than him, not really, so he would definitely struggle with removing Buck.

“No, you don’t got it, you don’t,” Buck protested. “That didn’t come out right, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

The rest of his words didn’t come out. He finally realized how close he’d gotten to Tommy. There was only a thin blanket and Buck’s clothes between them. He could feel Tommy breathing under him, and how the speed of said breathing had picked up. With the way Buck was perched in his lap, Tommy had to look up at him, head tilted up. It gave Buck a perfect view of Tommy’s features, of those blue eyes, dark eyelashes, the pink, parted lips with a perfect cupid’s bow. He couldn’t stop staring.

His hands moved of their own accord. They left Tommy’s shoulders in favor of cupping his face, and he felt Tommy’s arms come up around his waist in the same second he leaned down and pressed his lips to Tommy’s.

Buck gasped, surprised by his own actions, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he pulled Tommy closer, and Tommy’s arms tightened around him, and then, they were rocking gently into each other. The kiss was soft, dry, nothing heavy, but it was deep.

When they pulled away, Buck’s mouth was open and his breath left him in a shudder. Tommy’s eyes stayed closed for a moment longer, and when they opened, they were a bit shiny. Tommy gave him an unsure smile, and Buck returned it.

“You don’t got it,” Buck repeated. He felt as if something had settled in him that had been running wild all along. He finally understood. God, for someone so in tune with his intuition, it had taken him a really long time to figure it out. Yes, his instincts had been about Tommy being a werewolf. But the rest, the interest, the feeling in his stomach around Tommy – that was all Buck. That was simply- he was attracted to Tommy. He was so, so into Tommy.

“Noted,” Tommy retorted with a shaky grin.

A second later, they were kissing again, heavier this time, with tongues finding their way into each other’s mouths soon after, and Buck pushed against Tommy until he fell back down on the mattress, still holding onto Buck, and Buck would have loved to be even closer, but he couldn’t be bothered to take his hands off of Tommy.

He was filled with a euphoric feeling. He understood now. He finally got it, this, and so many other things that he’d done in the past. It made so much sense now. He muffled a laugh into the kiss, delighted at the revelation, and at the feeling of having Tommy close.

“We gotta talk,” Tommy murmured against Buck’s mouth.

“Sure,” Buck agreed distractedly. “All kinds of talk.”

Their mouths did a lot of not-talking.

-----------------------------------------

They did have that talk after spending a long time making out on the bare mattress in the middle of Tommy’s garage. They had a lot of talks, but the most important one was the dating talk. The boyfriend talk.

That whole thing had been almost four weeks ago now – almost an entire month of dating Tommy had passed. They’d gone out on dates, they’d hung out at each other’s places, Buck had officially gotten introduced to Tommy’s cat. They went to trivia together, on hikes, Tommy took Buck up for a sunrise flight, sharing his world with Buck.

And now, Buck wanted to return the favor. The full moon was coming up. For the first time in ages, the entire 118 A-Shift was off on that day, so all of them would accompany Buck to a meadow close to a forest so he could shift and run. Buck wanted nothing more than for Tommy to come with him. He wanted to run with him, he wanted to be in his other form with Tommy. He wanted Tommy to understand why this meant so much to him.  

Tommy was reluctant. He’d thrown the wolfsbane out after he’d made Buck leave because he had seen truth in his words, and it was apparently the first time he’d met another shifter who hadn’t been hiding his nature. Buck wondered how many more were out there, afraid to exist. Tommy, himself, hadn’t shifted since his grandmother was alive. She hadn’t been a shifter – his father’s mother – but she’d been much more accepting than Tommy’s dad. Still, that had been a long time, and even back then, Tommy hadn’t really spent his time running around.

They had spoken a bit more about their different pasts as shifters. They spent most of their time together, at this point, so obviously it had come up. And Tommy had listened intently to the stories Buck had to tell, so Buck hoped that meant that Tommy would appreciate trying to run, too.

The day of the full moon, Buck came over to Tommy’s with an overnight bag after his shift. Whether they would go together or not, Buck would be returning to Tommy’s place once he’d run his fill.

Tommy wasn’t home when Buck came by to drop off his things. He was off running some errands, and he’d be gone for a while, so Buck wouldn’t see him before he made his way to his usual meadow.

He sent off a text to Tommy, letting him know he’d be leaving his phone at his place. He would be making his way to the meadow in wolf form, since he didn’t want to have to deal with getting his clothes back from his friends or something. He usually did it this way.

Once he got the confirmation from Tommy, there was nothing left to do for Buck but wait for the moon to rise and get ready.

When he made it to the meadow in wolf form, the others were already there, standing around. They were just Chimney, Hen, and Eddie today. Sometimes, Bobby came along, but he’d been tired a lot these past shifts. Maddie sometimes came, but she was with Jee. Sometimes, they brought the kids, but they sometimes forgot they shouldn’t pet Buck in this form. He didn’t really like being touched from anyone but pack when he was in this form. And, well. He didn’t have a pack anymore. Maddie was the last thing resembling one.

The others greeted him, but they didn’t come closer to him, leaving him to walk around and sniff at the grass. He liked it this way. He didn’t need to be coddled on full moon nights.

Sometimes, it felt like his friends forgot he was the wolf in front of them. They talked amongst themselves, about work and private life, and about Buck. While he was right next to them. He could understand them just fine in this form. He felt like they forgot that a lot.

He ignored them tonight. They could have been talking smack about him all night for all he cared. He had other things to focus on. Every couple of minutes he looked into the direction he was pretty sure Tommy’s house was, looking for a large, pale wolf.

The moon was slowly rising in the sky. This meadow was a meetup place for other weres, too, so every now and then, other groups would come by. Some of them were light in color, and Buck got his hopes up for about two seconds, only to realize it was someone else.

As the moon rose higher, with every werewolf that appeared at the meadow only to disappear into the forest with others, Buck’s ears and tail started drooping more and more. He would have to come to terms with the fact that it was probably too early for Tommy. He would have to wait a bit longer to run with him, and he would have to be patient.

He didn’t feel like running anymore. He was about to turn to his friends to let them know he wanted to leave when he heard new paws in the grass. Buck knew, he knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up, but his head snapped to the side, his heart beating faster in anticipation.

A pale wolf was slowly making his way across the meadow to Buck with measured steps. He was looking around, head on a swivel, looking nervous but not exactly uncomfortable. In the moonlight, the mostly silver fur looked almost white, interspersed with light tawny and a dark saddle. Buck stuck his nose into the air, searching for the familiar scent he knew came from this werewolf.

Tommy. Tommy was here. He’d come, because Buck had asked him to. They could share this thing that Buck loved, and Buck could show Tommy how nice it was to play around in the grass during a full moon night when the pull was the strongest.

Almost vibrating with joy, Buck bounded forward to meet Tommy, nuzzling his nose into him. Tommy greeted him back, going so far as to rub his whole head against Buck with enough pressure he almost knocked Buck over. Buck was sure the delight was rolling off of him in waves. His body wiggled all over as he danced around Tommy, excitement in every move.  

“Who is that?” came a voice from behind Buck, and Buck snapped around, teeth bared.

He’d forgotten the others were here, and they were seeing Tommy. Buck wanted to throw himself on top of him to break sight with the humans. He had managed to bring Tommy here, not them. This was Buck’s thing. They weren’t his pack, but Tommy. Tommy could be.

“I have no idea.” That was Eddie. Buck could hear him coming closer. “But Buck seems to know.”

“Isn’t Buck with Tommy?” Chimney asked. “Who the hell is this?”

If Buck could, he would be rolling his eyes. The closest conclusion would be that this werewolf was Tommy. But instead, it seemed like his friends were thinking Buck was cuddling up to someone else.

He didn’t care. He was too busy doing exactly that, until Tommy moved away with a soft, gentle huff to let Buck know he wasn’t opposed to the attention. He tilted his head and jumped a little, and Buck understood.

He leapt at Tommy, only for him to run out of reach with a sound of encouragement. Buck’s mouth was open, his tongue lolling out between his teeth, and he followed Tommy’s request. They chased each other across the meadow, switching between who ran after whom, and slowly but surely, Buck realized that Tommy was leading him away from the others, away from the meadow, closer to the forest.

Buck rarely ran in the forest. His friends were worried he could get hurt or lost – like last time with Orange County – but Tommy clearly wanted to do it, and Buck felt the blood in his veins and his heart pumping in his chest begging for it, too. He wanted to disappear into the shadows between the forest and the moon, to run for the very first time with the one who would be his pack.

Pack. He’d finally found it.

But just as he gave Tommy a look to tell him to run towards the trees, someone grabbed Buck by the fur on his back. He yelped, not because it hurt that much, but because he was surprised. He turned his head to snap at whoever was holding onto him, and they let him go to avoid taking his teeth.

He hadn’t noticed, too caught up in chasing Tommy and getting chased by him, but Eddie, Chimney, and Hen had come closer to them. Eddie was currently reaching for Buck again, so he gave him a loud, long growl in warning, teeth bared. Tommy’s scent was all over him. He didn’t want Tommy’s scent on them. He didn’t want their scent on him.

“Come on, Buck,” Hen said. “I’m sure she’s- pretty, or smells good or whatever, but we really need to leave now.”

She? Did they think Tommy was some random she-wolf? Buck snorted out a breath.

“This isn’t working,” Chimney said now. “Plan B, I guess.”

He took something out of his back pocket, small and black, and Buck didn’t recognize it at first. Tommy did, though. He immediately started growling, louder than Buck had, and pushed himself between Buck and the others. He pressed the back of his head against Buck’s throat, protecting Buck’s vulnerable spot with his own teeth. Chimney moved back, hands raised innocently, the object still gripped tight.

Buck recognized the thing then. It was a taser, one of the ones made specifically for werewolves – meant to shock through thick fur.

They hadn’t told him they’d gotten this thing. Had they had this all along? Why did they have it? Surely not to keep Buck from stepping out on his new relationship. Did they have it because they had been afraid Buck could turn on them?

He couldn’t stop the whine, even if he wanted, and Tommy pressed himself closer in comfort. Buck nuzzled against him as well as he could.

“Fuck,” Eddie cursed. “I think there’s nothing we can do.”

“Yeah,” Chim agreed. “The wolf’s taken over.”

If he had the means for it, Buck would have laughed. He was the wolf, there was nothing to take over. But they finally stepped back from him and Tommy, allowing them to turn and run for the tree line as fast as their paws would carry them.

The deep shadows swallowed them up as soon as they reached the forest. Smells and sounds assaulted Buck’s senses, but they brushed over him. All he wanted to focus on, all he wanted to focus on was Tommy running next to him, in front of him, behind him, weaving around him, snapping at his back legs, leaping over tree trunks and shrubs.

Buck had always loved running on full moon nights, but never quite like this. It felt so much better to run with someone else, especially when that someone was Tommy. Buck had spent full moons with other wolves when he’d been a nomad, but it had never been this wonderful.

He knew of weres that called this being moon drunk. When the moon and the shift would bring feelings of new euphoria. They tended to say it was artificially enhanced, but Buck knew better. He would be feeling like this unshifted, too, if he were running or otherwise spending time with Tommy.

They encountered other wolves, other packs as they ran around, playing and chasing, but they kept their distance. Packs didn’t tend to mingle on these nights. It was an unspoken rule to leave others be unless they explicitly showed they wanted someone to approach them. And Buck definitely did not want that, and neither, it seemed, did Tommy. They wanted to be together, just the two of them.

The scent of prey played around Buck’s nose, and when a rabbit leapt out of the thicket, Buck’s instincts were faster than his mind and he’d taken it between his teeth, snapping its fragile neck between his jaws quickly. Hunting was prohibited for weres, but every now and then something like this would happen.

Buck cared for all of a second that he had broken the law. It wasn’t the first time he’d done this, and it wouldn’t be the last time. Tommy bounded up to him, a curious look in his eyes, and Buck felt himself preening. His potential pack was here with him. He could show Tommy he could hunt. He could help him experience things he never had before, just like Tommy had done for him.

Nudging the rabbit carcass closer to Tommy, Buck looked up at him with an expectant look. Tommy hesitated for a moment – and Buck did understand, it had taken him a moment to eat raw meat, too, even in this form – but then, he leaned down and sunk his teeth into the rabbit. Buck felt himself wiggle all over from excitement. Tommy had accepted the prey he’d hunted. And when Tommy looked at him with a question, Buck took part in their impromptu meal, too.

They made sure to bury whatever they hadn’t eaten. While they could digest raw meat – especially in this form – fur was a whole different thing, so werewolves tended to leave that and the bones behind, unless they were really into bone marrow.

Once they were done with that, Buck busied himself with licking the residue of blood from Tommy’s pale muzzle. He even stood perfectly still as Tommy returned the favor. Tommy rubbed his muzzle over Buck’s face, wiping spit off on him, and then he was off again, a short howl coming from him to make Buck follow him.

And follow him, he did.

Buck’s memories blurred together when he was shifted for a long time, sometimes, the same way they did on a long, exhausting call at work. He often forgot how he came from one point to the next, whether that was walking between the fire engines or running through the forest.

He didn’t know how they’d ended up here, but he remembered this part clearly.

Tommy might have pushed him into a small pool of water. Or perhaps it was the other way around and Buck had pushed him, or they’d both jumped in. He didn’t care to remember. It wasn’t important. What was important was that they found themselves fucking still half in the water, in their one form enough so that Buck could fit his teeth into the scruff of Tommy’s neck, in their other form enough so their fingers were long and separate and Buck could slide his through Tommy’s, digging his nails into the soft, wet earth.

Later, more in their human form than their wolf form, they crashed through the plant life into the ground, grinding against each other, tongues and teeth in each other’s mouths and on each other’s throats. In their human form, sure, but Tommy’s teeth were long and sharp, and Buck’s back was cushioned against the sticks and rocks by more fur than he normally had in this form.

They probably would have kept going like that the whole night, but something inside both of them slowly led them out of the woods and to the plains, the light of the mother moon shining down on them and glinting off of Tommy’s fur. They were back in their wolf forms as they made their way back home on quick paws.

Tommy had left the doors to the back patio unlocked, so all they had to do was jump the fence of his backyard – an easy feat for their wolf bodies – and clamber inside, shifting into their human forms as they made their way through the dark house.

Odin ignored them, lying curled up on the couch, leaving them to stumble up to Tommy’s room, muffling giggles and half-growls, hands firmly on each other and mouths connected in never ending kisses.

They hit the mattress in a tangle of limbs, kissing and biting at each other’s lips and throats, hands running over skin, half-shifted and clawed.

It took no time at all for them to rearrange themselves until Tommy was on his hands and knees, Buck’s cock buried in his ass. Buck had folded himself low, pressed as close to Tommy as he could while still slamming his hips into him, fucking him quick and hard.

Tommy met him for every thrust, moving back against Buck, telling him faster, and harder, and more like that, hold him tighter, bite, and Buck better not stop or else. Buck could remember fucking Tommy out in the forest, but he couldn’t remember how they’d gotten there. He could remember it this time, how Tommy had pulled on him, refused to let him go until he’d gotten his fill of Buck’s mouth on his, kissing him until his lips felt tingly. He remembered how Tommy had boldly reached between Buck’s legs, hand curling around his hard, leaking cock with a grin that was too sharp to be from a full human.

And on the one hand, Buck’s heart had been beating out of his chest from the run and the fucking and Tommy’s hand on his dick, but on the other hand, he’d felt it skipping beats and jumping around in his chest just from seeing Tommy look so comfortable with his ability to shift.

Old blood. A powerful shift. And he was Buck’s pack.

Buck had pushed at Tommy’s legs and sides until he rolled over onto his front and pushed himself up, and then, it did not take long at all for Buck’s cock to slide against Tommy’s hole, still slick and open from fucking by the water. He hadn’t waited long to push back inside of Tommy, feeling like he would grow lightheaded from how hard he was, and from the way Tommy’s body had pretty much pulled him in, Buck had known Tommy felt the same.

If not from that, then it was the way Tommy growled and snapped at the air when Buck pulled out to rearrange him a little. Buck chuckled softly to himself, which only left Tommy more agitated, and when Buck pushed his fingers through Tommy’s hair, Tommy turned his head with bared teeth again.

“Impatient,” Buck muttered to himself, pushing down on Tommy’s hips until he was lying flat on his stomach, arms around a pillow, one leg pulled up so Buck could easily see where his hole was glistening from lube, clenching around nothing.

He only got a growl as an answer, but it was enough to push him into motion. He nudged his way back between Tommy’s thighs, wasting no time to push his cock back into him, and Tommy made a satisfied grumbling sound, something caught between a growl and an almost-purr.

It made Buck huff out another soft laugh. “Happy now, you greedy thing?”

“We’ll see about that,” Tommy retorted, words obscured by his teeth. He pushed his ass back against Buck’s hips, forcing his cock just a little bit deeper.

Burying his chuckle in the crook of Tommy’s neck, Buck started moving again. He pulled out slowly to savor the feeling of Tommy’s hole clenching around him, trying to pull him back in, and thrust back inside swiftly, his hips hitting Tommy’s ass hard enough to cause a lovely looking ripple to run up his skin and muscles.

The satisfied, rumbly moan that left Tommy at the motion was music to Buck’s ears. He knew that he needed to hear it again, over and over. And so, he repeated the same movement, speeding up with every stroke, because he grew impatient in the moments of near-silence where all he could hear was Tommy’s inhale.

He wanted to hear him moan, and growl, and whimper. He wanted it all from him. And Tommy seemed to be wanting it too, meeting Buck at every turn. He pushed himself up to his elbows, putting a lovely curve to his back that Buck had to put his hand on and push down, making Tommy bend his back through even more. Buck groaned, fucking harder into Tommy.

Claws dug into the side of his thigh and Buck hissed, looking down. Tommy had reached back, gripping him, guiding him into a faster, harder rhythm. Buck leaned down, sinking his teeth into the meat of Tommy’s shoulder, just enough pressure to leave the indent behind. Tommy pushed up into Buck’s mouth, giving a soft, happy little moan at the attention, so Buck dove back in to bite him again.

Before he’d realized what his interest was, before he’d kissed and started dating Tommy, Buck had thought there couldn’t be that much of a difference between having sex with a woman versus with a man. And perhaps there wasn’t, but there was a difference between everyone else and Tommy. Tommy wasn’t the first werewolf Buck slept with – hell, he wasn’t even the tenth – but he was something else. Tommy was bigger than anyone Buck had been with so far, obviously – taller, stronger. Covered in muscles and salt-and-pepper hair, with big, broad hands that would not stop dragging and pushing and pulling Buck into whatever direction he wanted. When he moved back to meet Buck’s movement, there was a different kind of strength behind it, at times so much that Buck thought he’d be knocked right off of his knees.

But Buck held on strong, because he knew that was what Tommy was trying to see. He was pushing back against him, pulling him in, snapping his teeth at him in a manner Buck recognized as playful, because he wanted Buck to show him what he could do.

And so, Buck did exactly that. He slammed his hips against Tommy’s ass, taking in the loud sound of their skin smacking together. He put his hand in the back of Tommy’s neck, pushing him down, and folded himself over on top of Tommy so he could drag his fangs over Tommy’s shoulder and neck, digging his teeth into Tommy’s skin at every bone protrusion he could find.

The room smelled of them. From all the nights they’d spent at each other’s places in only four weeks, they had managed to both leave their mark, and Buck felt a warm, content thing spread out in his chest. He wanted to leave his mark on Tommy, too, wake up after the full moon and see himself on Tommy, still.

With Buck pushing his head down, Tommy buried his face in his pillow which only barely muffled the noises he let out. His half-shifted, claw-like nails still dug into the side of Buck’s thigh, but it didn’t hurt, not really. It was a dull burn at this point, and Buck loved it, loved being able to feel Tommy, loved being able to feel whenever Tommy clenched his hand tighter when Buck seemed to hit the right spot inside of him. If his hand wasn’t the indicator, it was that helpless, sweet little sound that dropped out of his mouth.

With every breath Buck took, he took in the scent of Tommy, of the wild thing he truly was and was letting himself be thanks to Buck. He smelled of the night air and of dirt and tree bark, of the moon, of sweat, and of Buck. It made Buck laugh softly to himself, and Tommy pushed against his hand to lift his head up a little and throw a curious look over his shoulder.

Buck leaned down, sliding his lips against Tommy’s cheek in an attempt of a kiss. “Pack,” he said, voice rough and breathless. He let go of Tommy’s neck and brought both of his hands to his waist, gripping Tommy’s powerful middle tightly. “We’re pack.”

He didn’t expect it when Tommy went completely boneless underneath him, head still leaned to the side as it hit the pillow. His eyes were closed, mouth open, letting out every moan and sigh and whine unabashedly. He still held onto Buck’s thigh, but his other hand found one of Buck’s, pulling on it until they got their fingers threaded together.

“We’re pack,” Tommy agreed, pushing back against Buck not in a way to goad him into something, but just to nestle as close as he could, and Buck let out a happy growl at that.

Buck leaned in, fitting his teeth against the top of Tommy’s shoulder, and picked up the pace, rutting into Tommy without a care for the bedframe that started knocking into the wall. How could he care, when Tommy underneath him was wracked with shivers, encouraging him with those sweet moans and the shape of his name?

Buck finally let go of Tommy’s waist, only to jam his hand underneath and make Tommy pick his hips up just a little bit so he could grab his cock and stroke it in time with his thrusts. Tommy was thick and heavy in Buck’s palm, wet from precum but not as wet as Buck got. Still, it made the slide of his palm smooth and slick. With every slam of his hips against Tommy, he pushed Tommy’s cock further into his own grip, and whenever he pulled back, Tommy tried to follow him, creating a perfect rhythm for them both.

They came within seconds of each other, and Buck couldn’t remember who did it first. Tommy’s cum spilled wet and sticky over his head, and they both stilled safe for slight twitches of their hips as Buck filled Tommy as well. He collapsed on top of him, burying him, scattering kisses over his back.

Tommy shifted against him a little, and Buck moved back. He wanted to turn Tommy over on his back so he could give him bitemarks all over his front, too, but when his softened cock slid out of Tommy, he froze in place, holding Tommy still. His hole was stretched and still glistening from the lube, and Buck watched, eyes unblinking, as his cum slowly, slowly started dripping out when Tommy shifted his hips.

The biting would have to wait. Instead, he flopped down, pushed Tommy’s thighs apart, and leaned in.

“Evan?” Tommy asked, but the rest was buried in a surprised gasp, and then, he pushed back, bringing himself closer to Buck’s mouth, and Buck moaned out loud in return.

He’d never had issues eating his own cum out of a girl’s pussy, and he sure didn’t have a problem with it now. Tommy’s hole was soft and hot under his tongue, twitching and clenching, and every time, more jizz dripped from Tommy’s hole and onto Buck’s tongue. Buck brought his fingers up, sliding two into Tommy’s hole easily, his cum sticky and stringy against his skin.

He buried his mouth against Tommy, kissing and licking and sucking at his rim, not bothering to muffle his happy noises, but as he was just really getting into it, Tommy suddenly pulled away, and Buck found himself snapping his teeth into the air with discontent.

Tommy turned around to him with a fond-looking eyeroll. “You think you’re the only one allowed to have fun?” he asked. “Come on, turn over.”

It was easy for Buck to let himself be pushed and pulled into whatever position Tommy wanted from him. And so, Tommy put him on his back, spread out across the mattress – Buck was pretty sure he was lying the wrong way on the bed, but he didn’t really care, because as soon as he’d gotten semi-settled, Tommy straddled his chest, facing Buck’s lower body, and whatever Buck could have said got lost in a moan.

He didn’t wait for Tommy to finish what he was doing. He gripped Tommy’s cheeks with both hands, pulling them apart. More cum had seeped out of his hole, running slow and sticky down the inside of his thigh, and Buck brought his fingers there to swipe it up and push it back up, smearing it around Tommy’s hole. He dove in with his tongue out to lick it off immediately.

Savoring the moan he got out of Tommy once his mouth was back on his hole, Buck got back to it, only half paying attention to what Tommy was doing.

He felt large hands run over the fronts of his thighs. Then, fingers curled around his cock, and Buck realized he was hard again. Reaching up curiously, Buck’s own hand pushed past Tommy’s balls and to where his cock was hanging heavy again. This could happen on full moon nights, when the energy buried itself deep into the weres and had to be worked out through running or weight lifting or fucking. Buck liked the latter a lot.

Pulling back a little to peer past Tommy’s form filling out his field of vision, Buck watched just in time to see Tommy fold himself down, his cock pressed between his belly and Buck’s chest, and then, Buck felt the hot, tight suction of perfect lips and a wet mouth around his cock.

His head dropped back as he moaned, eyes closing. Tommy didn’t waste time teasing Buck, taking him into his mouth as far as he could go on the first attempt, and that seemed to be very far. The head hit the back of Tommy’s throat, and it tightened around Buck, and Buck had to force himself not to thrust up. Not until Tommy gave him the go.

While that didn’t happen immediately, only Tommy pulling back up and bobbing down again, Tommy did scoot his ass back against Buck a little, a silent demand for him to get back to it. Buck could do that, he could do that immediately, so he threw himself back in, holding Tommy by the ass and hip to pull him down and keep him exactly where he wanted him.

It was a little hard to concentrate on just eating Tommy out while he was getting his dick sucked like Tommy had bills to pay, but this wasn’t the first time Buck was in this position. He just took it in, and he let it affect what he was doing to Tommy. He moaned against him, he panted, he rocked into it, and Tommy did the same. They moved almost as one.

As he was teasingly flicking his tongue over Tommy’s rim – he’d cleaned most of the cum off, already – Tommy made an impatient sound and then, he kept going down, down, down, on Buck’s cock like it was easy, until Buck was all the way in his throat, Tommy’s lips touching the skin of his groin. He could feel the spit bubbling out from Tommy’s mouth, mixing with precum and running down over his balls and taint, and he couldn’t help the way his hips rolled up.

God fucking dammit. Tommy had blown him before a couple of times, but he’d never taken all of him so far. And Tommy just took it like it was nothing, bobbing up and down in time with Buck’s movements, and Buck had to put a pause on eating him out just to catch his breath. On a deeper thrust, Tommy gagged a little, and he pulled away, his hand jerking Buck’s cock.

Before Buck could properly catch his breath, however, Tommy was back down again, sucking him off, and Buck shook off his stupor. He would be coming sooner rather than later, and he wanted to get Tommy off, too, before he was too fuckdrunk to actually do it.

Just eating Tommy out probably wouldn’t do it, at least not with the timeframe Buck had, so, he got his fingers into Tommy, two of them pushing in with no resistance, and he immediately curled them up and into Tommy’s prostate, feeling him shake on top of him.

Tommy continued sucking Buck’s cock and jerking whatever he didn’t fit into his mouth – he didn’t go back to taking all of Buck, probably because he couldn’t focus on it well with the way Buck was rubbing hard against his prostate. Tommy’s other hand that had been braced on Buck’s thigh loosened, and it took Buck a moment to figure out what Tommy was doing.

That was until he heard the slick sounds, and he realized that Tommy was jerking off between them. He had half the mind to reach one of his hands around and do it himself, but he was getting close, and he wasn’t sure he could actually give a good rhythm from the position he was in.

Instead, he kept fucking Tommy with his fingers, kept licking and sucking at his rim, and used his free hand to touch him all over his thighs and ass and his balls, digging his fingernails into his skin. His hands weren’t shifted, and neither were his teeth, and he had a moment where he wanted to let go and sink his teeth into the crease between Tommy’s ass and upper thigh, but then he was distracted by Tommy pushing his ass against his face again, and he got to it.

It didn’t take much longer, and all in all, it couldn’t have taken that long. With all the attention of Tommy’s mouth and his hand on Buck’s cock, spit all over him, and with Buck still fingering and eating Tommy out, and his own attention, jerking himself up the way he liked surely – Buck would have to ask him to show him again, he’d seen it, Tommy had given him some pointers, but he didn’t know all of the little secrets just yet – they were both reaching the ends of their ropes.

Buck felt Tommy shudder on top of him, and then something wet and hot hit his abdomen, and he couldn’t even make a sound of warning when he came down Tommy’s throat. They stayed like that for a bit, breathing heavily, covered in spit and cum, with Tommy’s weight crushing Buck into the mattress, but Buck liked it like this. He would have loved to stay like this for a while.

But soon enough, Tommy grew restless. He clambered off of Buck, and he barely had time to mourn the contact because Tommy turned around and flopped down on Buck, pushing the air out of him with a grunt that turned into a laugh. Buck wrapped his arms around Tommy, rumbling happily when he felt Tommy’s shifted teeth on his chest and collarbones.

They didn’t speak. Buck joined Tommy in the endeavor to bite the planes of skin in front of him. They were sticky with sweat and cum, and they should probably shower, brush their teeth, change the sheets, or at the very least grab some wet wipes.

But the moon was falling out in the sky, Buck could feel it. And with mother moon starting her descent, the wild energy dropped as well, and all Buck wanted to do was curl up with Tommy and sleep. So, that’s what they did, wrapped up in each other.

Buck dreamed of running under the moon, of animal blood in his mouth, of prey between his teeth. He dreamed of a warm body with pale, puffed-up fur running next to him, their hearts beating as one, their howls turning into one and the same.

He woke up the next morning with the sun shining into the room and right into his face – he and Tommy were still tangled in each other, not any less sticky than they had been in the night, but Buck felt himself smiling at that. Tommy was still sleeping against his shoulder. They were both covered in bruises left behind by teeth and fingers and claws. And the room still smelled of them both, of a pack. Of two werewolves so intertwined that nobody could think they didn’t belong together.

Closing his eyes, Buck turned his head and nuzzled into Tommy’s hair. He was dozing away, even with the morning sun still sending its golden light through the window. Buck would have stayed here all day, waiting for Tommy to wake up and then waiting for them to have enough motivation to get up and wash the full moon night off of them.

Unfortunately, Buck’s phone started ringing from the nightstand. Tommy flinched against him as he was rudely pulled into the land of wakefulness, and Buck growled at his phone in irritation. Tommy had been sleeping so peacefully against him.

“Sorry,” Buck murmured, kissing Tommy’s forehead in further apology, and finally got untangled from him so he could throw himself against the pillows at the headboard and grab his phone. He rolled onto his back, spreading his legs out, and accepted the call without checking who it was.

“Buck here?” he greeted, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles.

“Hi,” Maddie said on the other side. “How are you? Howie said you went crazy last night.”

Buck huffed out a laugh, remembering how he’d reacted to the others trying to separate him and Tommy. He’d have to apologize, probably. “Maybe a bit moon drunk,” he admitted. “But everything was okay. I wouldn’t have attacked them.”

“Yeah, no, I told them that,” she said. “It’s just- they said you left with a strange she-wolf?”

Buck laughed out loud this time. Tommy, who was slowly making his way up his body, gave him a questioning look. Buck grinned at him. “No, no, that wasn’t a stranger. Or a she-wolf.” He sent Tommy a questioning look, and when Tommy nodded, he continued, “It was Tommy.”

“Oh!” Maddie exclaimed. “Oh, Tommy is a werewolf, too?”

“Mhm,” Buck hummed in agreement, smiling to himself as he watched Tommy.

He thought Tommy would move up to him, but instead, Tommy settled between his legs, nuzzling against Buck’s soft cock. Buck swallowed air in surprise, unprepared for it. Tommy smirked to himself and started pressing open mouthed kisses to the length of Buck’s dick, and Buck could feel the interest stirring. His cock started rapidly filling with blood, and his own breath grew heavier.

Maddie was talking on the other side. Something about surprise, and about letting the others know, and how come Buck hadn’t told them, but he wasn’t listening to it. He was busy watching Tommy who dug out the bottle of lube from God knew where, quickly coating Buck’s cock and reaching back between his cheeks, probably to do the same to his hole. He was probably still open. Buck hadn’t even had a chance to look.

He was snapped out of those thoughts by Tommy climbing on top of him and reaching behind himself to steady Buck’s cock.

“Maddie, I gotta go, I’ll call you back,” Buck gasped into the phone, hanging up and throwing it somewhere.

Tommy gave him another grin, something sharp and beautiful, and he started slowly sinking down on his cock. He rocked his hips back and forth a little, and Buck met his movement, grinding up into Tommy in a circle motion. Tommy dropped his head back with a moan, putting one hand on Buck’s chest to steady himself.

Head falling forward again, Buck could see how Tommy’s eyelids fluttered for a moment. Then, their eyes met, and the grin on Tommy’s lips turned shit-eating.

Buck shook his head against the pillows, a disbelieving laugh falling from him. He put his hands on Tommy’s thighs, grabbing at them, feeling the power beneath his skin as Tommy started slowly rolling his hips back and forth. Buck squeezed his hands.

“Can’t believe you,” Buck said, but his reprimand was softened by how breathless he already was. “You’re that greedy, huh, couldn’t even wait until I hung up.” Buck planted his feet and started fucking up into Tommy, taking over the pace a little to get Tommy to move faster. It worked, and Tommy did speed up.

“Yeah,” he agreed, still grinning. He closed his eyes with a satisfied moan, followed by a soft whimper, and Buck realized he’d already found Tommy’s prostate again. “Mmh,” Tommy hummed. “That’s good.”

They hadn’t talked the night before, too caught up in the energy of the shift, but with the moon gone, so was the pull, and so was the urge to shift no matter how little said shift was.

“Yeah?” Buck asked, flicking his tongue out to wet his lips. “Yeah, am I fucking you right?”

They hadn’t gone all the way before this full moon, and perhaps Buck should be bothered about the fact that their first time had been out in the forest, so blurred with jittery energy that Buck couldn’t remember all the details. But it felt like something that was all theirs, something that neither of them had ever shared with someone else, and they could make up for the foggy memories. They could more than make up for it.

Buck felt pride zap through him at thinking that Tommy had never had sex with another were on a full moon night with that pull on him, but that brought him to thinking of someone else who could have done what he did, who could have found Tommy and brought him out of that need to poison himself to lock himself away because of lies his father had told him. It was Buck, it had been Buck who had done it, but there was a chance that if Buck had never listened to his instincts, if Tommy had never texted him the last full moon, someone else could have been in Buck’s spot.

The possessiveness was part of him just like the wolf. He jealously guarded his pack, and Tommy was his pack. It was new, sure, but Buck had known deep down from the moment he’d seen Tommy.

His nails dug into Tommy’s hips until Tommy’s hands reached down to stroke Buck’s, and Buck let up, instead opting to pet over Tommy’s legs and his sides and his belly, over the scar curving along his ribcage, until their hands met again, fingers tangling.

“What’s wrong?” Tommy asked, but thankfully, he didn’t stop moving, only slowing to a tight, harsh grind that almost chased all thoughts from Buck’s brain.

“You’re my pack,” Buck said.

“Yeah,” Tommy agreed, his smile growing soft and happy. “Yeah, we’re pack now.”

“Ours.” Buck squeezed Tommy’s hands. “Our pack. No-one else’s.” He let out a frustrated sound at not being able to put what he actually wanted to say into words, but Tommy seemed to understand.

His face softened further, and he leaned down, letting go of one of Buck’s hands so he could brace himself on the mattress. This close, Buck could smell nothing but them, smelling like pack undoubtedly. Tommy kissed him, and Buck licked into his mouth, uncaring about the fact that they hadn’t brushed their teeth. He’d done worse things with his mouth.

“Thought the 118 was your pack,” Tommy admitted between them. “But then I saw you with them under the full moon. No pack. Like me.” He nuzzled his nose against Buck’s, kissing him again. “This is ours. Nobody else could have given me this.”

And nobody else could have given this to Buck.

They kissed again, over and over, and slowly, Tommy let his weight fall to the side, encouraging Buck to come along. And Buck did, helping him roll over on his back so he could get on top of him, getting them both wrapped up in the blankets until it felt like they were in their own little den, their feet only barely sticking out from under the covers.

Tommy got his legs up by Buck’s hips, and Buck held one of his thighs close. He pushed back inside of Tommy, leaning down enough that Tommy’s cock was squished between them again. One of Tommy’s hands was in his hair, gently carding through, the other explored down his back as Buck shifted, beginning to thrust into Tommy again. His hand touched Tommy wherever he could reach.

Their kisses melted into nothing, until Tommy’s mouth slid down and his teeth, shifted and large, gave a hint of pressure to the spot right below his jaw. Buck didn’t dare move his head, letting Tommy do whatever he wanted, until Tommy pulled away. He seemed satisfied with what Buck had given him – trust and patience. This was a thing that Buck had seen from other weres in packs. They would press their teeth to a vulnerable spot to be given a show of trust, and to remind their partner that they wouldn’t harm them.

Head falling back into the pillows, Tommy stared up at Buck, eyes wide and dark. He was so big and beautiful under Buck, and there was a pretty blush on his cheeks, and his hand reached Buck’s cheek, caressing under his eye with his thumb.

“Should’ve known,” Tommy murmured, breathing in sharply through his teeth when, Buck assumed, his prostate got hit again.

“Hm?” Buck asked, leaning down to kiss him again.

“Mhm,” Tommy confirmed. “Should’ve fucking known. You’re so good-” He broke off with a shuddering moan, eyes closing.

“Yeah?” Buck grinned, turning his head to the side to kiss Tommy’s jaw. “Good for you, is that it?” He rolled and rocked his hips into Tommy, mixing up the speed and the intensity to their movement.

Tommy nodded, smiling up at Buck with big, soft eyes. “Always so good,” he confirmed, caressing Buck’s cheek. “Helped me come back to me. Ran out there with me. And now you’re-” His voice broke off on a moan, and he continued, his gentle look morphing into something darker and sharper, “you’re fucking me so good- that fucking cock on you, Evan-”

Buck leaned down, kissing him long and deep. “You look so good,” he groaned into Tommy’s mouth, “look so fucking good on my cock. Want this forever with you.”

“Pack,” Tommy groaned in agreement, pulling Buck in tight for a series of more kisses. “Our pack.”

There weren’t enough words to describe the joy Buck felt at the words. Tommy had only truly come into himself as a werewolf one full moon ago. But he seemed to understand his instincts already, or because of his old blood, he was quicker at growing in tune with his whole self again. He seemed to see the world as Buck did, who had spent so many years switching seamlessly between both forms that he could not see them as a separate being like many other people did. Now that Tommy was allowing himself to be a werewolf, he was fully embracing both of his forms, and meeting Buck at every step he took.

“Our pack,” Buck agreed. “My pack, Tommy.”

Huffing out a soft laugh, Tommy pulled him into a kiss, whispering, “My pack, Evan,” against his lips before they finally met.

There were things to talk about. Packs were serious things. They tended to consist only of two people, most of the time, only slowly growing, if at all, but it was a big, important step. Weres usually waited longer to establish their pack, but why should they wait longer when it felt so right? Buck knew that Maddie would say something about “falling in with the first other lone wolf he’d met” as if Buck hadn’t met so many of them before. As if he and Tommy wouldn’t have been able to build something with anyone, were or not. They hadn’t. They fit together too well to truly make it far with someone else. Buck would snuff those ideas out soon before they could take root. He and Tommy would surely talk, and then they’d face every new day as a unit. Buck couldn’t wait.

But for now, they stayed under the covers, rutting against each other, lost in kisses that flowed from one into the other. For now, they shared in their new togetherness, knowing that this would not be something they ever had to miss again. Buck had been looking for a pack for ages, and he was glad he’d waited for so long, because now he knew he’d found it right when he was supposed to.