Normally the morning after a full moon is spent picking whatever he caught last night out from between his teeth and washing bloodstained blankets in the creek. The wolf just never seems to care about cleaning up before he crashes in Keith's nice clean sheets for the night. Even worse, sometimes the wolf decides to bring a snack to bed with him. Nothing tops bad mornings, as waking up to a disembodied rabbit head staring at you…at least that's what he used to think. The thing wrapped beneath his blanket this morning makes him wish for something as tame as a dead animal.

Head pillowed peacefully on Keith's bicep is one Takashi Shirogane, beloved village guard and latest victim of the wolf. Shiro's eyes are shut, chest slowly rising and falling in a deep sleep, but the evidence of what Keith has done stands out plainly in the morning sun. Flaky dry release clinging to bare muscles, a scabbed over bite already hot and inflamed with the wolf's infection. Keith's fucked up, and he doesn't know how to fix it.

By the moon how could he have? Shiro was nice to him. Shiro smiles when he comes into town. Shiro was…oh gods, Shiro was coming to check in on him last night, and this, this is how he repays him. Keith's breath is thin in his chest, oxygen refusing to entirely fill his lungs. Last night stands out crystal clear. Stalking Shiro through the woods, pinning him down…doing things with him. Shiro's going to hate him. He's going to…He's going to…

Keith's panting, but he can't breathe. He needs to get out of this room. He needs to get outside, away from this. Keith pulls himself free, easing Shiro's head to the mattress as gently as his shaking hands will allow. The blankets lift as he stumbles out bed, revealing long red claw marks running down Shiro's outer thighs and hips.

Keith bolts.

...

The werewolf, Keith, he knows it's him despite the changed form in the way one always knows things in dreams, is ready to go again. Cock hardening proudly while Shiro's is still recovering. He steps forward to where Shiro is sprawled among the bedding, and it doesn't take words to know what he wants.

A rational part of his brain says he should be scared. A monster stands above him ready to tear him limb from limb, but the larger part of him asks why not. This can't exist, so why not enjoy it. Touch and feel the strong muscles and the delicious cock.

Shiro climbs to his knees and his mouth waters. Keith's dick is big, bigger than his own, and it feeds all those dark fantasies that good upstanding soldiers don't have. Shiro licks his lips and-Bang.

Shiro jumps, limbs kicking out, tangling and fighting. He throws himself free from the blankets and casts his eyes around for the danger. All is quiet around him. The room is unfamiliar, no it is familiar, but he hadn't thought it real. Shiro stands and his shoulder twinges. A slightly swollen bite stands out clear as day on his shoulder. It happened?

A quick overview of himself shows the truth. Sore jaw, smarting ass, and various assundry scratch marks, last night happened exactly how he's now remembering it. His hunter has a secret. A secret Shiro let have its way with him on the cold packed dirt of the forest floor, then a few more times in warmth of the shack. Thick muscles between his thighs, massive cock spilling over his skin…he…he liked it?

There should be disgust at the memories, a search for his sword to avenge his honor, but his biggest reaction is a twitching down south. He liked it. More than the fumblings with the other farm boy in the barn out of sight of their parents, or the quick and hard tumbles with another soldier on the eve of a battle that might be their last.

It's a revelation, as is the fact that he's entirely alone in the shack. Keith must have left him to sleep in while he went about his morning routine. Shiro should find him. They should talk.

His clothes are a lost cause, and Keith's won't fit. At one time he would have walked out of the shack in search of his hunter in nothing but his skin. More than happy to let the forest animals and Keith see him in all his naked glory, but those times had gone with his right hand. If he hadn't been so certain last night he was dreaming, he'd have objected to Keith seeing him unprepared. Shiro pulls a smaller blanket from the bedding, ignoring the stains they left last night, and ties it to cover as much of his chest and legs as possible.

He can't help noticing the dried cum on his stomach as he does so. Maybe he should look for some water to clean off with, before seeking out Keith. This conversation has enough potential for mortification as it is.

Stepping out into the fresh air, feels good. Sunlight warming his skin, as the dew wet breeze blows by. Shiro stretches out his stiffer muscles. He doesn't see Keith, but he can just hear past the chirping of early morning birds to the babble of running water nearby. First stop then.

There is a well worn path from the shack heading in the direction of the sound. Shiro follows it and is quite pleased to here the noise grow. Until the woods part to reveal a small stream, the perfect size for a bath. He's so pleased, he almost misses hunched body on it's bank.

Keith is naked on his knees. Fingers dug into the dirt, and head hanging between his arms. He'd said he was ill yesterday, was there more truth to that than last night would imply?

Shiro approaches, crunching leaves beneath his feet, but Keith makes no signs of noticing him. Slowly Shiro kneels down, reaching out a hand, "Keith?" Keith head snaps up, arm flitting between them defensively. His eyes wide in panic.

Shiro pulls his hand back, holds it up palms out, in the universal sign of I mean no harm, "Hey, woah, it's just me," Shiro says, and curses internally as the obvious occurs to him. Keith might have come out here to avoid him. A creature of magic, a soldier in his lord's service, there weren't many fairy tales where the two interacted peacefully.

"Shiro?" Keith's voice is pitched far too high, as he quickly stumbles to his feet.

Shiro follows much more slowly, hands still in front of him, "Yep, its me," Shiro puts on a wry grin, trying to calm Keith down with normalcy, "I thought I'd take a bath…got a bit messy last night." Keith's eyes grow impossibly wider, and for a second he looks tensed to run.

Shiro readies himself to catch Keith. He can't let Keith run from his life thinking that Shiro might hurt him, "I'm sorry." Keith says.

Shiro blinks, "What?" Shiro asks, caught off guard.

"I'm sorry," Keith repeats, fists clenching and unclenching as he ducks his head, "I'm sorry. I so sorry. I…I didn't mean to." The tremor is back, and Shiro is momentarily left speechless.

Keith didn't mean to? Did mean to what, "You didn't mean to sleep with me?" Shiro says hollowly. Of course not, they were friends, but there was a difference between friends and someone you were interested in. Shiro wasn't what he once was, and it seems now he is a mistake.

"No! I mean yes, no, I mean no," Keith growls, rubbing hard at his face, "I mean yes, I wanted to, but not like that. And that wasn't what I was apologizing for,"

Relief blooms in his stomach, not a mistake, "Then what are your sorry about?" Shiro asks.

Keith's eyes train onto Shiro's shoulder, and Shiro glances down at the reddened flesh, "For that," Keith says, "I'm sorry Shiro, you don't deserve this curse,"

"Oh," right, those bitten by a werewolf are doomed to become one themselves. That's what stories said. He's going to change, just like Keith had, under every full moon. He'll have to lock himself away to protect others, or venture out into the wilderness. Like Keith's shack…would he be just as interested when Shiro changed as well? Would he be willing to repeat last night?

"Shiro," Keith's voice is coated in fear and worry.

Shiro should be panicking, worried to pieces on how this will limit his future, but he's fought in a war, lost an arm, and now he's found someone he likes, "Can I spend the full moons out here with you?" Shiro asks.

"…yes?" Keith says, confusion overtaking his panic.

"Then there is nothing to be sorry for," Shiro smiles.

It's time he got to enjoy himself.