Si Daeng

Hok

Warning: Some mature content!

~~

There were no words, none at all, as moonlight glistened against skin as if both bodies were wet with dawn's coming dew. The two simply regarding one another from each side of the clearing - drinking the moment, slowly, like wine tasters of forest's elixir.

Had a part of Red known it all along? That 'his' wolf was not truly of the canine persuasion?

Because he was unquestionably a man before him now, in loose, stone grey jogging bottoms and a v-necked, white T-shirt, matching up to Red's own black vest and pyjama trousers. Each barefoot in the snow as if they were wandering fairyfolk.

They were as tall as one another, and looked to be a similar age, but the second man larger in frame - lean yet broader backed, upper arms thick with natural muscle, silken raven hair swept back as he tilted his head to eye his opposite from beneath unblinking lids. Those eyes weren't the same glowing amber in human form, but toned almost to midnight black - yet the gaze was the same, felt the same to Red.

Or did it?

There was familiar magnetism and mysticism, yes, but also something else now that the body before him stood as man. It was...heat.

A heat that coursed through his veins and radiated out from his skin to melt the snow beneath his toes. A heat that flushed his cheeks as if he were in the throes of fever. A heat that seemed to stroke and stoke at an inner fire that had ignited within, as the other man began to prowl closer, eyes never leaving his own.

Red frozen as a statue - only the physical rise and fall of his chest as breaths trailed out as pirouetting ghosts against the glitter and ink of a night sky - until the two stood directly opposite one another, just as they had some five months before, though this time nose to nose.

Did either of them know that they trembled? So slightly, so delicately, as the second man lifted a hand to place it, simply, on Red's cheek.

And how could the touch of a stranger feel only like most ancient home?

The penetrating eyes unlocked from his own, at last, to blink down instead to his lips - Red knew what was coming, the man's expression hungrier than he had ever appeared to be as a wolf, visually devouring the plump pinkness of the pout before him. Then he was kissing him, lips moving softly against Red's own still mouth, tasting, quivering with the restraint of that hunger.

Suddenly the night walker's mind was racing to catch up with his body, projector montage of images stampeding through his brain as he registered that he was out in the forbidden, forest darkness being kissed by a man-wolf, or even just a man, and that his heart was somersaulting, freefalling, in a way he had never known it could.

What was...happening?

In an instant he had grasped the other by the collar of his t-shirt and shoved him away - the second stumbling, falling backwards onto hard, frosted earth, to the indignant cries of snapping twigs.

That look - as the fallen man stared openly up at Red from below - mood mirroring moments in which he had shown his underbelly as a wolf that day: submission.

Yet he rose to his feet again, approached again, stood nose to nose again, and waited.

And after seconds of palpable, fierce internal struggle, Red clutched at his shirt again, only this time to switch their positions as he pushed the other roughly back against the smooth bark of a lone silver birch that edged the clearing, and crashed his lips back into those whose touch he had already come to miss.

Kissing passionately, desperately, tongues thrusting and twining as breaths were held, embracing until both men were carousel dizzy, light-headed with whatever had been unbridled between them. They were starved and greedy for each other, saliva coating cheeks and chin as those stifled breaths were suddenly released out as gasps and pants in the quiet of the woods in slumber.

By the light of the moon.

And Red didn't protest when he was gently rotated and pressed back against the silver birch himself, only humming into the mouth of the other as he felt cool fingers travel beneath the hem of his vest to trace their way shiveringly around his hip bone, up past his navel, along the concave dip between firm pectoral muscles and to a pierced bud.

"Haaa" - he jolted with electricity, one hand roving the tree behind in search of a branch or whorl to grasp and steady upon as those fingers teased him, pinching, twisting nipple beneath cloth, as a mouth moved to suck and mark the inviting, smooth expanse of his exposed neck.

And in amongst all of the kissing and touching, mutual, exhilarating excitement - cocks heavy, stiff with arousal, wet with want. Hard for each other as Red's black vest was torn in half from the neckline, clawed away to reveal his tattooed torso to the icy caresses of a night's breeze, as the second man took teased nipple into feasting mouth.

The sharply contrasting, sensual warmth of that place as a tongue rolled the silver barbell - hand at the other hardened nub and rubbing - the shock of teeth clashing against metal.

There were noises rising up from Red's throat again, not growls this time but soft sighs and moans as he wove and tugged long fingers through the hair of the man at his chest.

He had never been touched there - not in this way - shadowy, transient lovers of the recent past aiming straight for his cock and easy pleasure. Yet here he was, groaning uncontrollably on a speeding subway out of sanity, knees weakening, eyes rolling back.

It felt...fuck...so... Like blossoming magic, a magical awakening. And as the second man's hands roamed to encircle the goose pimpled skin of his slender waist at arching back, then down, cupping and kneading in spine-tingling exploration of round ass cheeks through pyjamas - hot mouth never leaving chest, licking and stimulating on, on, on, Red-

-Wait, no, he couldn't be. It wasn't...he'd barely even been touched.

And yet he was, wasn't he? His body writhing in urgent quest for friction, more, hips rolling, then jerking wildly, arms forcefully clamping that head against his chest as he was shuddering and moaning, inner heat growing unbearable, scorching it's way from every cell out to every pore...

...Until all he could see was blinding white, as he climaxed breathily, powerfully, messily, in the clinging confines of clothes, held upright entirely by the strong arms of the other as he buried his head in the sculpted chest opposite.

Neither knew it - down there on Earth as each gasped and basked in new ecstasies and tentative, spellbinding union - but a novel, twinkling star was birthed in those moments, high in the heavens where fate's pathways were carved. Because the two who had met had been destined to meet, that night the constellation-plotted start point of something transformative.

Everything was going to change now.