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Midnight Walk

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Keith and Adam were looking for Shiro after he went missing, but Adam was still Shiro’s ex. Adam broke up with Shiro when Shiro needed him most, it irked Keith that Adam had the gall, the audacity to join him in his search now. Keith snarked because he didn’t even know why Adam was here looking when it’s obvious, he hadn’t cared for Shiro the same way Keith cared for Shiro.

Keith was the one that was there when Adam broke Shiro’s heart, dumping him after Shiro had already explained multiple times that no, he was not going to the other side of the world to receive treatment that may or may not work, when Shiro already accepted his fate and wanted to stay right here.

Keith hadn’t approved, or liked, this either, but at least he cared about Shiro enough to, reluctantly, agree that if this was Shiro’s decision, he would stick by Shiro one hundred percent.

Keith had even stuck by Shiro when he mentioned an alternative medicine healer. A nice lady he met at the supermarket, and no, Keith, she wasn’t out to harvest his organs, she had a legit business, Shiro knew how to use Google for christ’s sake.

That had been almost two whole days ago. Keith was worried, the first day he didn’t hear anything from Shiro, but deigned to give Shiro his space. Then the next day rolled around, the same day they had planned a snack run and scary movie marathon and it was then that Keith knew something was wrong. Shiro never missed their movie dates, or at the very least, he would let Keith know if something came up, but for him to just ditch like that, no prior notice, no texts, not even a call, Keith knew immediately that Shiro was in trouble, so he went searching. Adam, sticking his nose into business that no longer belonged to him, weaseled his way into joining Keith’s search.

However, unbeknownst to the two, Shiro hadn’t been kidnapped or hurt, nor had he run away, in a manner of speaking. He had visited the healer, who had in turn ‘healed’ Shiro’s disease and in return, bestowed Shiro with the gift of lycanthropy.

Shiro was a werewolf.

That woman turned Shiro into a werewolf. The same night of a full moon, making Shiro delirious and before the woman could safely sedate him, Shiro ran. Shiro ran into the forest behind her home and kept running until nothing looked familiar anymore and Shiro was well and truly lost. Branches whipped past his face and Shiro felt the blood pool and trickle from a deep cut across his snout. Shiro didn’t pay it much mind though, just kept threading through the trees, paws thudding deep prints into the soft earth and kept going until exhaustion took over.

He lay passed out in a small ditch for two days before he woke up. Except, when he woke up, Shiro had no clothes on, no idea where he was, and only vague memories of what had happened and how he got to where he currently laid, wherever that was.

Keith managed to ditch Adam a few hours into their search. Adam wanted to stay near the road, refused to believe Shiro could be further into the forest. Why would Shiro go that far when he didn’t know the area? Keith huffs, before sneaking away, leaving Adam behind and venturing further in. Keith knows that Shiro might not be in his right mind, whatever that healer, that witch, did to him obviously messed with Shiro’s head.

Keith knew, in his gut, that Shiro must be further in the woods, lost, and Keith was going to rescue him. The search continues well into evening, but Keith is prepared for this as well. He brought a flashlight, a headlamp, a camelback filled with water and first aid kit for whatever condition Shiro might be in when Keith finds him.

It was almost completely dark, save for the bright full moon above him, when he heard a pitiful whimper and scared growl. Keith swiveled fast, trying to determine the source. There haven’t been wolves in this forest for decades and bears never find there way this far South.

Keith felt his heartbeat slowly pick up until a huge black wolf emerged from dense foliage, where it switched to a jackrabbit pace. A soft white tuft of fur hanging at the wolf’s forehead, a fresh, bright pink scar on it’s face.

The wolf chuffed and crawled forward slowly, so close to the ground it’s belly practically dragged on the ground. Keith had no idea what to do with this. He’s never seen anything bigger than a raccoon in the wild before and Keith felt certain this wolf was about to rip his throat out as soon as it got close enough.

Keith forced himself to keep his eyes open after the wolf stopped scooting forward, where it rested its huge maw between two equally huge paws and looked up at Keith, looked as imploring as a gigantic black wolf possibly could.

It reminded Keith of Shiro, of all things. How, despite his massive size, Shiro often made himself look smaller, friendly and open in complete juxtapose to his size and strength.

Keith whispered his name, and the wolf whined low, came closer to nuzzle Keith’s shoes and Keith begins to relax, however stupid Keith knew it was to do that.

The snuffling continued however, getting more and more daring, to where Keith becomes anxious again. Keith knows, but maybe the wolf doesn’t. It was inappropriate, Adam could have come by at any moment, probably chased Keith into the woods as soon as he realized he’d been ditched, but the wolf reminded him so much of Shiro, Keith found himself stuck.

Shiro’s mannerisms, similar emotions, what little emotion Keith could gleam, flickered across the beasts’ face. A hand was running across thick and surprisingly soft fur before Keith could realize what he did. He tried to withdraw, but the wolf snorted, an amused sound, angled his head back under Keith’s palm.

It was then that Keith realized his mistake. The beast, and it was certainly a beast, no regular wolf stood on two powerful legs, nor did they grab people around the waist with forelimbs and drag them closer.

He, Keith realized, it was a he, pulled Keith closer and nuzzled the joint between his neck and shoulder and Keith shuddered, not entirely in fear, but still unsure of what this creature wanted, well, not entirely unsure, if the protruding arousal was any indication.

Keith keened under the werewolf, because that’s what it was, a werewolf and wasn’t that just something? Despite the werewolf’s razor-sharp teeth and huge claws, Keith didn’t really feel all that scared. There was something familiar in its eyes, something that drew Keith in.

The werewolf pawed at Keith’s clothes, way more delicately than it should have been, with claws that big. Keith made the obligatory push at the werewolf’s advances, but soon gave in anyways, let the werewolf take his time, run his rough tongue across Keith’s shoulder and up his neck, felt the werewolf’s hot breath against his cheek and ear.

Keith squirmed when the werewolf went lower, arms held firmly in place by big, furry clawed hands, or paws? Keith wasn’t sure, except for the fact that he was firmly pinned. Not that he minded, Keith really didn’t mind at all.

The werewolf takes his time, gentler that Keith would have expected, and leaves him gasping for it. It seems to please the wolf though, so Keith doesn’t stop. It’s all reminiscent of Shiro’s mannerisms and movements, how he treats Keith, so carefully yet never underestimating Keith’s strength either, minus Shiro’s dick up Keith’s ass, of course.

So really, it was no surprise when Keith moaned Shiro’s name and the werewolf whined, nuzzling harder into Keith’s abdomen, the look in his eyes beseeching and also slightly guilty. Of course, Keith thought, of course.