Phan one-shots

Wolves come out at night-time

Description: not your cliché scared of thunder fic. No. Phil is scared of thunder, because, when the thunder comes, Phil changes.

Warnings: unless you have a fear of werewolves, you should be fine. Also, sorry if I sound like a psycho in this one, I'm not (I'm a high-functioning sociopath, do your research).

Genre: sci-fi? With bucket loads of fluff at the end!

This one is dedicated to Wish-Girl because she left about a billion comments on my last oneshot and is so amazing and should totally write her own fics but doesn't but yeah- here have a oneshot!

Geronimo!

Phil's POV

There was a thunderstorm forecasted for tonight. For most people, this wouldn't bother them. For some, they might be a tiny bit scared. But for me, I was downright terrified. Ever since I was a little boy, I had been terrified of thunderstorms. Not because of the loud noises or flashes of lightening, but because of me.

I guess you could call me a werewolf. But not in the typical sense of the word. I didn't change into a wolf when it was the full moon, but when the thunder boomed above me and the lightened flashed on my black fur. But some facts were the same. When I was the wolf, I wasn't aware of what I was doing. I would wake up, naked, miles from home, with blood under my nails and the aftertaste on my tongue.

And I was terrified of this one. Middle of London? Bad enough. But in the same flat as my best friend of five years and boyfriend of two months? How could I live with myself if I ever hurt him? How could I survive without my rock, my one true love? What if I killed him?

And with that thought, the thunder began. I had already told Dan not to disturb me under any circumstances tonight, and locked the door, pushing my bed against it and my chest of drawers against the window. The room was clear in the middle, and I stood there, shaking, waiting for the transformation: waiting for the pain.

Suddenly I was driven to my knees by crippling pain along my backbone, as it stretched and curved, audibly cracking. I bit my lip, trying to hold in a scream, knowing that if I screamed Dan would find a way to break down the door, even if there was a bed against it. I raised a hand in front of my face, and watched, fascinated as it grew long claws and black fur. Much as it scared me, the transformation also fascinated me. How could a man become a beast? How was it possible? I would never know the answers.

My eyesight sharpened. I didn't need my glasses anymore. This was the last step. I could only hope I stayed locked in this room long enough for the thunderstorm to pass by. I could only hope Dan was safe. Please, please, don't let me hurt him. I don't care if I hurt myself, just don't hurt him.

I love him.

And I was the wolf. Animalistic, hungry, wild. A growl slips from it's throat, ears twitching as it searches for prey. It hears the faint sounds of shouting from people on the streets, laughing from people in the flats below, but closer, much closer is the sound of a steady heartbeat and occasional laughs from a person just in the next room.

The wolf is suddenly at the door to the room, trying to prise it open. It was whining and whimpering, but to no avail. It couldn't get past both the door and the bed, but that wouldn't stop it from trying. Suddenly, the steady heartbeat of the person in the next room sped up, and he stopped laughing.

"Phil?" He asked, voice timid and quiet. He smelt of fear and sweat and adrenaline. An appetising cocktail of emotions to make the human flesh taste that much better. The wolf growled in response, and the scent of fear grew.