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Sleazeballs and Small Curses

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Keith wasn’t one to lose control of his emotions—oh, who was he kidding. He was the most impulsive guy he knew. And at the moment, he couldn’t help but glare a hole into the back of their latest client who had a case of the extremely touchy hands syndrome. Keith bit the inside of his cheek and focused on keeping his claws from growing as the man placed his hand on Lance’s left knee.


Just breathe. Doesn’t matter that this is the fifth time he’s touched your witch. Just breathe—it’ll be all over in a minute. Don’t ruin this.


Keith felt his right eye twitch as the man edged his hand up Lance’s leg towards his thigh. His eyes darted to Lance’s face, watching for signs of discomfort. The witch’s face was void of emotion, a polite smile that never wavered seemingly permanent on his face throughout their conversation. Keith breathed in deeply, hands twitching restlessly at his side.


“And so, I thought maybe a young and beautiful, strong witch like you could take care of our village’s little curse,” the sleazebag leered, fingers digging into the cloth that acted as a barrier between the man and the smooth, soft skin of Lance’s thigh.


Keith watched the minute twitch of Lance’s eyebrows, the way his lips quivered with the effort to keep the forced smile present. It took everything in him to keep from lashing out. Lance was holding back his irritation, Keith could try and do the same for the sake of the job. They hadn’t come across one in a while—traveling the roads for a longer duration of time than usual. And they needed money soon. They were running out of supplies.


However, the longer the man kept his hand rested upon Lance’s thigh, the harder it was for Keith to hold back the possessive fury bubbling beneath his skin, a slight jealousy of I should be the one touching Lance. Nobody but me should touch him. Fortunately, before he could throw all restraint to the wind and lunge across to tear the man away from his witch, the man retracted his hand and stood up to walk towards a drawer off to the side of the room. He jiggled the knob a few times, cursing as the drawer was jammed shut. As he struggled with it, Keith met Lance’s eyes and they shared a silent conversation.


Keith never wanted to see Lance uncomfortable. He hated that even though he was present, he had done nothing to prevent it. Even if Lance preferred it this way to avoid complications with their client. Lance tore his gaze away from Keith when the man began making his way back, handing Lance a small bag of gold.


“Go to the medicine woman’s hut. She will inform you of all you need to know,” the man directed. However, as Lance stood to meet Keith by the door, the man reached out and grabbed a hold of Lance’s wrist. He brought Lance’s hand up to his lips and brushed a kiss across the witch’s knuckles. “I hope to see you soon, beautiful. I wouldn’t mind adding something extra to your reward.”


The sight of the man touching, kissing, leering, and speaking so suggestively to Lance caused something within Keith to snap. Lance was at his side in a blink of an eye, dragging him out of the building as the werewolf snarled viscously, snapping his jaws at the bewildered and somewhat frightened client. 



The job had been short. Keith didn’t even need to do anything, simply standing back to watch Lance perform a quick enchantment on a cursed stone that was plaguing the village with sickness and restless nights. It was no surprise that his witch was powerful enough to cancel out a curse with a simple enchantment. Now not only was the curse overturned, but the village was also protected from evil spirits.


“How long was the village cursed?” Lance asked curiously as they received the rest of their payment from their sleazeball of a client. Keith didn’t miss the way the man let his fingers linger against Lance’s hand as he passed the small bag of gold over.


“Oh. Just a week. But thank you. Now we can rest and those sleep-deprived people can stop nagging me,” the man rolled his eyes. Lance tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing.


“How come everyone in the village seems sleep-deprived except for you?” Lance asked, eyes sharp as the man stilled before laughing awkwardly.


“Ah, well the job is done. Thank you for saving my village. Would you like to stay the night?” The man asked, ignoring Lance’s question to leer at him. “I have plenty of room on my bed for you.”


Lance’s face flushed, eyes widening at the man’s perverted smirk and the way he ran his eyes over the witch’s body as if he were undressing him in his mind. Keith moved swiftly, clawed hands gripping the man by the neck and lifting him three feet off the ground. He growled and bared his teeth at the man. Before he could spit out threats, Lance was resting a hand on his shoulder and whispering soothing words to him. He sighed and dropped the man, taking silent pleasure in the way the asshole’s knees hit the ground with a loud thud. The client looked up and flinched at the expression Keith wore on his face.


“Now, how about you answer the question Lance asked,” Keith all but demanded, crossing his arms.


“I bribed the old hag, alright! Is that what you wanted to hear? How I asked her to spare me from her anger? That I took her to bed so that I wouldn’t have to suffer under her curse like those other fools?” The man yelled. Keith growled loudly and stepped forward, causing the man to scramble backwards.


“Keith,” Lance reached out, placing a hand against his back. He huffed, but didn’t go through with his plans of tearing the man to shreds. Lance turned his gaze to the man, beautiful blue eyes going dark with a subtle threat. “Maybe I should make sure that you don’t ever do something like this to the people who look to you as their leader.”


The witch took a step forward, hand pulling away from Keith’s back as he raised it in front of him, finger pointing at the quaking man before them. Keith smirked in response to Lance’s statement, flashing his fangs at the sleazeball.


“No, please,” the man begged, eyes shining with fear.


“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t,” Lance stated. “After all, you had no trouble subjecting your people to a curse. Even if it were for a week.”


“I searched for someone to get rid of the curse, didn’t I? I wasn’t going to just leave them to suffer forever!” The man cried out.


“You weren’t looking,” Lance glared. “We just happened by and asked around until the people begged us to see you about the curse. You were even going to turn us away!”


“But I didn’t,” the man said.


“Only because you wanted to bed me,” Lance muttered darkly.


“Still do,” the man let slip, causing Keith to lunge forward and slash the asshole’s skin with his nails. The man was screaming by the time Lance managed to calm Keith down. “Get that monster out of my village!”


“He’s not a monster,” Lance glared. “If anyone here’s a monster, it’s you. And I think I’ve found the perfect punishment for you.”


In the next hour, the sleazeball was exiled from the village and a new leader was appointed for the village. The villagers were all happy with the change in leadership, thanking the werewolf and witch for their help.


“So, where to next?” Lance asked as he tossed an apple to Keith. The werewolf caught it with his left hand and took a bite, smiling at the sweet taste.


“I hear the town two miles from here has a nice waterfall.”


“Really?” Lance asked, looking up at him with sparkling eyes.


“Yeah,” Keith nodded, reaching out to take the witch’s hand. “Want to go?”