The benefits of friendship

Friendly behavior

I don't mean to be dramatic, but I know the exact moment when Everything Changed. At least for me. It wasn't when he told me he'd been changed to a werewolf. That was barely a blip in our friendship.

He was a great friend. Flirty and safe. At first it was safe because everyone knew he was totally and completely in love with Brooke, so what was the harm in some playful innuendo? Then it was safe because he was... supernatural and off limits for totally new reasons.

But things shifted for me all of a sudden one day. Hanging out in my new studio apartment, eating Chinese food on the floor, because I didn't have a couch yet.

"Stop hogging the fried rice," I complained, reaching across to pull the container towards me.

"Fine, but pass me the pot stickers."

It had been months since we'd really had a chance to talk, but we fell back into old patterns without missing a beat. We talked over the music that was always playing in the background, we talked with our mouths full, we talked about everything.

"Well shit, they only gave us one fortune cookie," he said, holding it up between two fingers.

"My house, my cookie," I said, reaching for it, but he snatched it away.

"But I'm your guest," he said with a laugh.

"I'm not that nice and you know it," I continued, still struggling to grab the little plastic package. He twisted to the side, squirming out of my reach. I pushed the takeout to the side and lunged after him, grabbing him around the waist. We wrestled and tussled and fought dirty. I bit his hands; he used his supernatural strength and speed to keep just out of my reach, the fucking tease.

He tossed the cookie onto the bed and when I scrambled up to get it, he followed, pushing me forward and landing on top of me. I twisted around, planning to elbow him in the neck or something, but he growled. Maybe at me, maybe just because that's what the wolf part of him said was the right response. Either way, the sound skipped right past my rational thoughts and landed right in the dark primal part of my brain, and I froze.

Our legs were tangled, his hands gripping my wrists. We were breathing hard, from exertion, I told myself. We'd played rough like this before. This wasn't anything other than a friendly game of keep-away. It was just platonic. I could almost believe it, even though we were all... you know, horizontal and pressed together and panting. I didn't think about that. I didn't think about anything.

I shifted my shoulders and felt the crunch of the fortune cookie. I scrunched my face and Munk laughed, collapsing onto me. Safe in the familiar territory of hugging, I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close as we settled into our giggles. I reached up, cradling his neck in my hand, because that's where my hand fit. I squeezed, feeling the tightness in his muscles. Then he let out a noise.

A very instinctual noise. I don't think he even realized he was making it. But in that moment, every joke, innuendo, and bad flirting we'd done over the years came crashing back into me with a new power. Suddenly, I meant every word I'd ever said. It was fucking awkward.

I laughed, much louder than was necessary, because I needed to banish that sound from my brain. As I laughed, I pushed him until he got off. Wait, no, not like that. I pushed him until he wasn't on top of me.

And that, as they say, was that. The evening kept going in totally normal ways. Our friendship continued in totally normal ways, and I vowed to never ever think about that moment ever, ever again for the rest of my life.

Except I totally thought about it. When I was alone. At night. In bed.

Anyway, I also thought about making him feel good. In the neck rub way. No other way. Because neck rubs were friendly and totally safe. And Munk, as a human... er, werewolf--person. As a person, Munk deserved nice, safe spaces with people who cared about him. I still wanted to give that to him. Platonically, of course.