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Speech was difficult in such a state of mind. 

Hassan could do no more than growl suspiciously, unable to focus his eyes or rise from the bed. He was too pained to move, too overcome with the unquenchable lust and hunger that the beast awakened.

A spike of fear shot through him-- who could be there, allowing themselves to be trapped with him? They had to show themself, for their own safety, in this case. 

Hassan was worried they would be hurt by the wolf--

Then the all-familiar scent graced his senses, breathing in the man he knew better than anyone.

But it was John. 

It was his mate.  

The sheriff sighed, overcome with relief. He knew the wolf could never allow harm to come to the priest, but the question remained-- what had brought him here, on this night?

“John…” He whispered through gritted teeth.

The man in question stepped closer, eyes reflecting in the dull moonlight. He felt silently commanding; his gaze piercing into the wolf’s soul-- imposing, dominant-- controlling.

Hassan shivered involuntarily, desperate to feel the other man’s hands upon him. But he found all he could do was writhe in discomfort, fingers digging into the sheets beneath him, waiting for contact.

“Look at you,” John whispered with mild condescension, remaining still. “My poor little wolf.” He cocked his head to the side, drinking in the sight on offer. “Tell me-- what troubles you?”

The sheriff tore his eyes away with a groan, throwing his head to the side. He wanted to tell John how much he needed him, how he longed to be near him-- how desperate he was to fuck-- but he could not bear to shovel so much burdon onto one person.

Then there was a touch to his forehead-- soft, gentle, caring-- and he thought he might melt.

“John…” Hassan gasped when the hand cupped his cheek, uring eyes to meet another’s.

“You’re giving me quite the show,” the priest murmured, fingers slowly tracing down his neck, ghosting over his collarbone. “So very needy…”

“Please…” His breath hitched, eyes half-lidded, biting his lip. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

There was a snicker from the other man. “And leave what’s mine to suffer?” John was almost offended by such a notion, a hint of possessiveness in his voice. “I don’t think so.”

As quickly as he was there, he retreated. Hassan wanted to protest, to beg for more-- but then he understood what the priest had in mind. 

John carefully removed his sweater, placing it in a neat pile-- along with his shoes. The wolf watched closely in awe, desperate to see the lean, handsome body trapped beneath clothes. The priest met his eyes, unblinking, as he gradually removed the clerical collar from his shirt, placing it aside gently.

The sheriff’s breath hitched, overcome with indescribable levels of lust. He wasn’t sure if this was some kind of sign-- but if the man continued to undress, continued to tempt him-- he could not feel responsible should he ravage the other man’s body until sunrise.

John had the same thought-- sliding onto the other end of the bed, settling between open, inviting thighs. His hand returned to Hassan’s neck, shifting down to his shirt; unbuttoning the garment slowly, carefully, as hands explored revealed flesh. He found skin a deep russet brown, ebony hair plentiful even in his human form alone-- muscular, tense, scarred-- delicate, sensitive--

All his.

Hassan shivered at the touch, practically arching from the bed seeking friction. Even the priest could see the man was in discomfort, perhaps even borderline pained from his desires--

“Tell me what you need…” John requested through a whisper; pushing the opened shirt either side. 

The sheriff gasped as the cool air hit his skin, eyes meeting the priest’s, pupils dilating. 

“Please--” He whined, desperate to hear more of the other man’s commanding voice. “I need…”

John watched on silently as Hassan captured his wrist, guiding the priest’s hand to his hard, straining cock. It was difficult in such a state of mind to find any words, hoping actions would suffice.

“I need you to fuck me,” he requested through a hoarse, whispered breath. “Please, John…”

The priest accepted the offering with a gentle hum; fingers wrapping eagerly around the other’s cock, watching the sheriff shudder as his hand worked.

“Oh?” John smiled almost devilishly, licking his lips at such an invitation. “First time for everything, I suppose.”

Although he’d never committed such acts on another before, he was beginning to understand the appeal. Were such bodily pleasures experienced by most to this extent-- or was there something more to it from their bond?

The priest cared not for such questions, eager to see the look upon the sheriff’s face when he came undone by his cock.

He picked up the pace, holding the wolf’s cock firmly, allowing it to thrust into his hand at every chance of friction. Such a sight caused his own to stir with interest; releasing it from confinement so that it could slide along the other in his grasp.

Together in one hand, John hummed with contentment, resuming his work with a lingering moan.

Leaning over his mate, the priest’s breath ghosted over skin, tongue tracing lips, seeking access. Fangs nipped gently at flesh, using the opportunity to steal a kiss-- watching the sheriff’s eyes flutter closed as he gave in to the sensations.

The intensity was awakening the wolf-- threatening to escape. Claws emerged, breaking skin-- teeth and hair following-- a desire to run and howl and bite and mark--

The vampire would not allow such insolence.

“Now listen here, dog--” John’s hand caught under his jaw, holding him down-- strong, commanding-- fangs displayed through a growl. “There’s no need for that,” he spat, voice lowering cautiously.

Hassan snapped back to his senses, forcing the wolf under control-- a soft moan escaping his lips. The possessiveness the priest had over him was creating such lust on a level he’d never experienced before. John was rough, yes-- but fuck, if the sheriff didn’t enjoy every second of it, he’d be lying. 

Overpowering a werewolf was no easy task, but it felt like second nature for the vampire. It was an aspect of their newfound relationship Hassan craved the most.

John’s fingers disappeared momentarily, fishing something out from his pocket. The sheriff could hardly focus, confused for a moment-- but then he smelt it, the faint scent of something familiar--

He’d come prepared.

Hassan stifled a moan when cold, slick fingers returned to his skin, coating his cock with one hand, and another dipping lower. A single, firm finger pressed inside the tight heat-- stretching and burning-- but only short-lived, knowing it was a feeling that would not last. Then an unexpected sensation shocked him, eyes flying open as John nudged against a previously unknown bundle of nerves, body shuddering as pure bliss overwhelmed him.

The sheriff sighed when the fingers retreated, feeling devoid in their wake. But then he was staring down at the other man’s hard cock with anticipation, unable to stop himself from licking his lips-- so very, very eager for it.

John couldn’t wait any longer-- removing Hassan’s jeans with a single, rough motion, pulling them off to reveal long, familiar legs. The priest settled between spread thighs once more, pulling hips flush against his own-- truly a sight to behold. He’d never seen such raw neediness in his life-- a man offering himself, sweet and lust-riddled, and ready to be taken. 

John licked his lips. He’d never thought a werewolf could be quite so enticing-- to the point where he wondered why he’d never been led astray by such desires beforehand.

Regardless of the situation they found themselves in, John dismissed lingering, guilty thoughts-- ready to have his way with the sheriff until sunrise.

Hassan’s legs quivered by John’s hips. He’d thrown his hands over his face; back arching, lips parted, breaths short and fast-- wanting, waiting-- anticipating the priest’s next move. It would be rude of John to leave the man begging any longer, so it would only be fair to indulge himself for the foreseeable future.

John carefully leaned over the man beneath him-- eyes meeting and never straying. With a firm hand upon the mattress, he used the other to guide himself-- pressing into the slick, offered heat with newfound haste. He was desperate to feel the warmth the sheriff offered, and more of the delicious sounds that would accompany him.

John held firmly on the wolf’s hip by the time he finally bottomed out, both gasping in relief and pleasure having finally been reconnected. Hassan momentarily grit his teeth, sighing as he adjusted to the feeling-- as he, too, had never experienced such pleasures before.

The priest was eager to please, capturing the sheriff’s lips with his own in a deep, possessive kiss. Breaths were few and far between; moaning into each other’s mouths as John began to move. Any attempt to restrain himself, to take his time, to ease them both into this newfound experience failed miserably-- unable to stop himself from fucking into the wolf relentlessly.

The heat and intensity of their connection was nearly too much to handle. John could feel himself losing control, desperate to claim what was his. He growled around a harsh thrust, burying his face in the werewolf’s neck. Teeth traced delicate skin, eager of a taste-- fangs sinking into flesh as he greedily took his fill.

Hassan shuddered, moaning at the mix of such pains and pleasures-- enough for him to tip over the edge. His entire body tensed; coming with the priest’s name tumbling from parted lips.

Hearing his name uttered in such a way ensured John could last no longer; freeing Hassan’s neck with a lick of his lips, reaching his own orgasm with a few final, erratic thrusts into his mate. 

The priest had never experienced such bliss-- not only from bodily pleasures, but the expression on the sheriff’s face was one that would remain ingrained in his mind forever.

John used the last of his strength to not collapse upon the other, barely keeping himself upright on shaking arms. Words were vacant, air filled with ragged panting as they both attempted to catch their breath. Sweat lingered on their skin; the cell smelling of nothing but sex and blood.

As the heat began to dissipate, John sought comfort, feeling his body begging for rest. Yet when he attempted to move, the sheriff panicked.

“Wait--” Hassan’s hands dug into John’s back, keeping him close. “ Stay,” he requested, voice wavering with uncertainty. “Please...”

The priest smiled lazily. He could not deny the other man even if he tried; and he was certainly in no mood to be alone. But they were tired, sore and sweaty-- both in need of sleep.

“There is no place I would rather be,” John hummed softly into the sheriff’s neck. “My dear, sweet wolf.”

John shifted his weight, awkwardly maneuvering their bodies in the limited space upon the cot. Although awkward, the two managed to make do; tangled together in a mess of limbs as their breathing evened out.

Hassan nuzzled in close, nose pressed into the crook of John’s neck; inhaling the scent of his mate as they drew closer together. He could feel the worst of the lunar effects wearing off, the beast within him at bay-- both tired yet satisfied from the evening’s activities.

The priest had already fallen asleep by the time Hassan peeked through half-lidded eyes. A serious conversation was long overdue-- the sheriff remaining surprised that John had visited him on such an evening. Doubts were prevalent, and he was desperate to understand the other man’s feelings towards their relationship-- and what it meant for them now.

Drifting off into dreamless slumber, his heart remained heavy with uncertainty.