It surpassed pain. For a moment, Micah thought he was dead; then he realized that his consciousness had simply detached from the physical. The screams he heard were a mingle of his own voice and Zeke’s, but he had no control over them. In the same way, he had no control over his body as it thrashed and writhed on the cement floor, clawing and snapping and screaming. So much screaming. He thought for sure his heart would explode under the pressure, and for a moment, he thought it had; his body began to turn inside out, each cell splitting open to give birth to a monster. Electricity coursed through him, making his body spasm until his bones broke, one after the other, resounding in his head like explosions. In a wave of panic, he realized he was blind...and then he vomited. The retching tore through his body, pulling him inside out.
It seemed to last for an eternity. Every moment stretched out in his rapidly firing brain, every quaking breath seemed to take a year to fill his broken, bleeding lungs. A white flash filled his vision, his spine broke and realigned, pulling every other bone with it. Slowly, in excruciating pulses, the pain faded away. He blinked, his vision returned, and he desperately wished it hadn’t. Horrified beyond all reason, Micah found himself staring down at a crumpled, deflated mass of flesh which bore his face. He scrambled away from it, tripping over his massive paws to land in a furry heap.
There was another wolf here. An instinctive snarl broke from his throat, and he whirled toward the scent. His human fear was no match for his beastly instinct, and though he wanted to step back and give the larger monster some room, the beast had other ideas. In spite of himself, Micah began to growl a low challenge at the other beast. Zeke, he thought in a belated moment of realization. That’s Zeke. Zeke snarled back at him, louder, more powerful, and Micah and the beast he rode were in agreement. He backed away to the far wall, crouching defensively and growling a warning.
We should have talked, Micah thought despairingly. He’s going to kill me, and I’ll never know why. But Zeke didn’t attack. Instead, he kicked the loose flesh into a corner with a shudder of disgust, then stood on his hind legs to look out the thin sliver of window at the top of their cell. The moonlight shone through, at an angle which suggested that the transformation had, in fact, taken hours. Zeke raised his head and released a haunting, mournful howl. It echoed off the bars of their cell, harmonizing with itself, forcing a bubble of unfamiliar emotion into Micah’s chest. Instinctively, he pointed his nose at the ceiling, joining Zeke’s tragic song. Every ounce of pain and confusion, every loving feeling, every suppressed desire poured out of him in that moment. They were communicating on a level that he couldn’t interpret consciously. He felt as if they were crying together, but he couldn’t seem to figure out why.
After a while, it didn’t matter. The emotions bubbled and burst, spilling into the room without reason or definition, swimming together in a pool of grief. Micah took a hesitant step toward Zeke, never interrupting the music. He didn’t want reciprocation. All he wanted was to siphon some of that pain out of Zeke’s heart, take it into his own so Zeke could feel something other than the despair he sang so eloquently. Moonlight shone across his thick fur, scattering silver highlights through the dark grey, a beautiful illusion of magic in the dark. One step away now. Micah’s heart thundered in his chest, and he almost didn’t go through with it; but the beast was impulsive, uninhibited by his human understanding, and took the step for him. He tucked his snout under Zeke’s thick, powerful throat, then pushed through until they were tangled together in song. Zeke didn’t attack or push him away. Micah gave him everything he had, every ounce of comfort and friendship he had within him, every breath of acceptance and unconditional love, no matter the label. Somehow it seemed easier to express these things now that he was incapable of speech. Maybe it was the wolf, maybe it was the stress; whatever it was, it had taken Micah’s fear of rejection and transformed it into a passive understanding.
They sang until the moon dropped beneath the horizon. Standing side by side, their flanks pressed together, they watched the sky fade from black to grey, and from grey to purple. As the purple began to brighten into a red dawn, their bodies quivered as one. The reverse transformation wasn’t nearly as frightening or painful; it was more of a folding in than an explosion, curling the long teeth and fur and wrong bones back into their rightful, human places. By the time the sun crested the horizon, washing the sky a pale blue, they were human again. Naked on all fours, with the skin they had shed curling and drying in one corner. Micah met Zeke’s eyes, and without hesitation, threw his arms around his neck. Zeke paused for a moment before returning the embrace. He was trembling. Or was it Micah? Definitely both, he decided. They held each other wordlessly for several long minutes.
“I’m sorry,” Micah whispered in Zeke’s ear.
“For what?”
“For everything you’re going through right now, for everything you’ve ever gone through. For everything you expressed last night.”
Zeke dropped his head on Micah’s shoulder, then pushed him away and stood up. His lithe body rippled with more muscle than Micah remembered him having back when they were skinny dipping. In spite of his concern for Zeke’s emotions, Micah was suddenly and violently aroused. He remembered what his dad told him; that the transformation would make him incredibly horny once it had passed. He tried to ignore it, tried to think about something else, anything other than Zeke’s glowing olive skin gently kissed by the morning light. He was irresistibly drawn to Zeke, aching to touch his skin, to gaze into his eyes, to taste his mouth. Hesitantly, his fingers brushed Zeke’s shoulder. Zeke froze, then turned to him, his own arousal clearly visible.
“It’s just the rush from the transformation,” Zeke said. His eyes told a different story, though, darkening until Micah could see his own reflection in Zeke’s pupil.
“That’s as good an excuse as any,” Micah said, trailing his fingers down Zeke’s shoulder to his hip, then back up the subtle curve of his waist. His skin was soft and the muscles beneath were firm and hard. Electricity trickled through Micah’s fingertips wherever they touched him, shooting molten desire down Micah’s belly to settle insistently between his hips. He looked up at Zeke, who was breathing just a touch too hard for a man standing still. Suddenly, he grabbed Micah’s wrist and pinned it to the wall.
“It’s never going to be real,” Zeke whispered hoarsely. “It’s never going to last. What do you want, Micah?”
“Just you,” Micah replied, his lips trembling. “In whatever capacity. I just want to be with you, Zeke.”
“You can’t,” Zeke said through gritted teeth as his fist tightened around Micah’s wrist. His eyes shone with unshed tears. “Nobody can. People get too close, they disappear. That’s the pattern. You can’t promise you won’t disappear.”
“The hell I can’t,” Micah argued as his heart broke. “I will never....”
“Stop,” Zeke whispered the plea. “Don’t finish that, don’t you dare finish that. I’m not allowed to be happy, Micah. I’m not allowed to be loved. If you want me to take you right now, by God I will, but it ends the instant we walk through these doors. Do you understand me?”
Micah’s heart dropped like a stone, and the heat coursing through his body turned to ice. He lowered his head, gulping breaths to sooth his shattered core, then looked up at Zeke once more.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice cracking like a teenager’s. “Yeah, Zeke, I understand. You’re terrified. You want to handle this leftover energy, but you don’t want me. I get it.”
Zeke growled in frustration and pressed his forehead to Micah’s, grabbing his other wrist and pulling it up over Micah’s head. His naked body was mere inches away from him, heating the air between them with the intensity of his vibration. A whimper escaped Micah’s throat.
“How can I make you understand?” Zeke asked, each syllable quivering with barely-contained emotion. “Of course I want you, Micah. I’ve always wanted you, desperately sometimes. I just can’t have you.”
“Isn’t that my decision?” Micah asked, rolling his forehead against Zeke’s, his lips aching to be smothered by Zeke’s mouth.
“No,” Zeke whispered. “It’s my curse, Micah. I don’t know who I pissed off in another life, but I did a damn thorough job of it. Nobody who loves me lives, Micah. Nobody I love stays. It isn’t meant for me.”
A tear streaked down Zeke’s cheek, and Micah kissed it away. His lips traveled, almost of their own accord, to meet Zeke’s. It was like pulling the trigger on a loaded gun. Zeke drank from his mouth with the desperation of someone too long deprived, and Micah gave more than he took. Zeke pressed against him, his erect member grinding into Micah’s belly, reigniting the molten lust in his veins. Tongues entwined, slick bodies grinding and sliding together, every argument against finishing what they started disappeared in a series of gasping breaths and undulating hips. Zeke’s hands were everywhere, sliding over him, grabbing, teasing, digging into him like claws, playing his body like an instrument. Ecstasy washed over him as Zeke ran his mouth over Micah’s throat and chest, then back up to his eager lips. Zeke dropped suddenly, wrapped his arms around Micah’s legs and lifted him, pinning him against the wall. He looked up at Micah now, uncertainty clear in his eyes.
“Is this what you want?” Zeke asked, the question encompassing a universe of potential consequences.
“God, yes,” Micah said, pulling his head close to kiss him.
Zeke melted into his kiss even as he slowly, carefully penetrated Micah. He spat in his hand and stroked his shaft, lubricating every pulsing, thick inch of it. Micah locked his legs around Zeke’s waist, desperate to be closer, desperate to be one. With a moan of surrender, Zeke plunged into him, smothering his erotic screams with his hungry mouth. Pleasure and pain sliced through Micah, a powerful heat which brought him to the edge of ecstasy and held him there as Zeke thrust with a quaking need deep inside him. Micah held Zeke’s face in his hands and forced him to meet his eyes. Zeke’s were dark and wild, filled with lust and fear.
“I need you to know,” Micah panted. “Don’t answer me. I just want you to know.”
Zeke tried to look away, but Micah pulled his face back and gazed intently into his eyes. Zeke reluctantly met his gaze, slowing his erotic rhythm, cringing defensively as if Micah were about to strike him.
“I love you,” Micah said firmly, his voice quivering with the power of his words.
Zeke wailed a moan and buried his face in Micah’s shoulder as he thrust faster and faster, rocking them both to the brink. Their breath synced and quickened, matching the frantic beat of their hearts, and Zeke began to growl in his ear. All at once, Zeke stopped thrusting and swelled up inside of Micah, pressing hard on the most sensitive of places. With a shocked, enraptured cry, Micah came in a blinding explosion of pleasure which left his ears ringing and his skin trembling.
“Fuck....” Zeke gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. “Oh, fuck yes.”
He pulsed powerfully, forcing Micah to come again as he filled him up with his seed in an orgasm which seemed to linger for an unnaturally long moment. With a shuddering sigh, Zeke leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Micah, kissing his face, his throat, his collarbone, his chest. Micah, trembling and panting, held him close and stroked his thick hair. Zeke wasn’t going to return his sentiment, he knew that. At least not in words. Micah satisfied himself with the feeling of Zeke around him, inside him, as close to him as it was possible for another person to be.