Archive of Our Own ^beta

You're no stranger to transformation. If there's one thing a werewolf should know how to deal with, it's a body in flux. A lot of the changes on testosterone are even familiar, though they won't be coming and going with the full moon. The hair, the hunger, the mood swings are all things you've learned to manage. This is more than managing, though. This is your human body feeling like home for the first time in your life. You'll happily deal with any hormonal inconveniences testosterone can throw at you to have that. What you haven't considered is how your wolf body might also change.

Your wolf body has always felt more like you than your human body. Hairier, stronger, less inhibited. When you're a wolf, you don't worry about things like people staring at you or calling you slurs. If they did, you'd just eat them. This is one of many reasons it is best to keep you away from the public during the full moon. Thankfully you have a support system for that, and he's staring at you now, eyes wide.

"This is definitely happening really fast," Ray says, leaning in to look at the little hairs growing along your jaw. You take another look at your arm. Your body hair is thicker and darker, and it's not just the ramp-up to your transformation tonight, because it was about a week ago when you realized the rapid change. Your voice is also rough, and you can't tell if it's this T cold thing you'd heard about or if it actually started dropping. There's also the issue of your bottom growth, though Ray doesn't know about that - you've heard it can start really fast, but you feel like you have kind of a lot for the first month.

You've been speculating that being a werewolf has something to do with this - maybe it's just the simple fact that your body is built for rapid change. Whatever's going on, you're not complaining. You've waited long enough.

This will be your first full moon since starting testosterone. You've dutifully done your shot and are getting things situated with Ray's help. You walk around your room, double-checking for anything unauthorized you might be tempted to eat or chew, while Ray gets the doorstopper and barricade ready. You can't exactly put locks on the outside of your bedroom door, or company would have a lot of questions, but a rubber doorstopper wedge on the outside and a chair under the door handle haven't failed you yet.

The sun is setting as you sit on the edge of the bed, give Ray a little wave as he slips out, remind him he's welcome to anything in the fridge or your movie collection. You hear him kick the stopper into place and the scrape of the chair against the door. Once you've had a little time to recover your human reasoning and impulse control (not perfectly reliable, but reasonably so) you'd give Ray the signal it was safe to come in, and he'd bring you dinner and maybe keep you company.

You lie naked on the bed and stare at the ceiling as the sky outside turns dark blue. The first sign is the prickling across your entire body as your fur gets ready to grow in. You brace yourself for the next step; you arch your back as electricity shoots up your spine and the structures of your body begin to shift. It's not painful, exactly, but it's a lot of sensation and this is where you usually black out. The last thing you remember before it all goes dark is heat blooming in your groin. That's never happened before.
*****
You're drifting towards awareness, your wolf mind struggling for context. You're in a bed, which is always confusing and can help jar you back into human thought patterns. Your ears flick and pick up the sound of music from another room, which also helps anchor you a little. Ray is messing around with his amp turned down real low, and you feel a sense of fondness. You can see him in your mind's eye, curled over his guitar with his hair hanging over his face, hands moving so skillfully that it looks a lot easier than it actually is. That's good. Hold on to that.

As you tentatively start to stretch, it's like the final connections are made between your mind and body. Every sensation slams into you - your pleasantly sore muscles, the hunger gnawing at your gut, and the heat. The warmth in your groin hasn't gone away, and you lose the ground you'd gained as all higher functions shut off. You realize you've already been rocking against the sheets, and now you're fully dragging your hips across the mattress before your mind can catch up to what you're feeling. You find just the right angle to grind at your dick and whine as you hit it again and again. It's not good enough. It feels amazing, but your wolf mind knows that even if you got off like this the urge wouldn't subside. You need a warm body. And you need it now - the hunger, usually your first priority upon waking, has faded to background noise. All you can feel is how hard you are, your dick twitching with the need to be inside something, the raging heat - wait, are you in heat? Is that why it's called that?

The thought brings you back into your human mind a little, and you become conscious of something your wolf mind hadn't questioned. You sit up and lean back against the headboard, then look between your legs. There is certainly more there than there was before transforming. It's nothing huge, would be on the small side for a cis human man. You have no idea how it compares to a cis werewolf dick, but you kind of don't care because it's enough. Enough to penetrate with, a thought that makes electricity jolt through your stomach to join the heat below. Your wolf and human minds are completely aligned - you have got to fuck something.

Your ears swivel again to the music in the next room, and yes. Wait, no no no no no. You're at disagreement with yourself again. You've been trying to get that to happen already, you don't need to involve him in whatever this is and put him off. He'd never want to help you on the full moon again, and you need that support. Running through these thoughts very rationally does not stop the vivid images playing simultaneously, and your dick twitches violently.

Having someone you'd very much like to be fucking in the next room is making your skull explode, and you let out a quiet, lonely howl before you can stop yourself. Not quiet enough apparently, because the music stops. Fuck. You burrow down under the blankets as his footsteps approach.

"Hey," he calls through the door. "Everything okay in there?"

You dig your claws into the mattress, something you haven't lost enough control to do in years. Ray knows you can understand him in this state even if you can't speak, and you can usually more-or-less make yourself understood.

You try for just one short, affirming bark, yes, or even a growl, but a pitiful whine builds up in your throat and escapes before you can stop it. Fuck. You're just so - you're dragging your hips against the mattress again. You can't think straight.

He's quiet for a moment, then says, "I'm coming in."

Why?! That's extremely stupid of him, and against all the rules. He isn't supposed to enter until you give the signal. Does he want to get mauled? You try to growl again, but what comes out is another whine. You clamp your hand-paws over your muzzle. "Okay, I'm coming," he says, sounding concerned.

You do the only thing you can think of and scramble under the bed, where you don't have the room to pounce.

You hear the chair shift, the stopper slide out. His socks appear and he stops in his tracks, looking around for you. Thankfully his scent is already all over your house, so the sudden strong smell of him isn't the punch it could be. You're already trembling at the effort of holding back. He comes closer, then peeks down under the bed. You have enough presence of mind to be glad that this way, he can't see your dick. That would be really awkward. Normally hanging out with him while changed and naked is no big deal - you're furry, it kind of covers everything if you're not intentionally trying to show it. Apparently it doesn't work like that anymore.

"Hey," he says softly, reaching out a hand, and you finally, finally manage a growl. "Okay," he says, backing off. "I'm just worried. Are you hurt?"

You shake your head.

"Need anything?"

You shake your head again, and he nods, looking less concerned but not entirely convinced. "I'll go get dinner."

Oh, come the fuck on. He closes the door behind him and puts the stopper back - good, he hasn't totally forgotten safety procedure. You relax, try to breathe, try to keep ignoring the heat. You can do this. He's gonna be back in the room for another two minutes tops, and then he'll fuck off and you'll have all night to rut yourself raw. Which will not be fun, but it will be over in the morning.

You really fucking hope this doesn't happen every time you turn. You might have to start doing this alone again. At the very least, next month you'll need to explain what could happen so he can barricade you in and leave. You're not looking forward to that conversation.

You hear the door open again and brace yourself. Dinner appears on the floor in front of you, a whole skinned and cleaned rabbit resting on the butcher paper it came in. He used to put it on a plate for you, but stopped when it became clear you thought that was really funny. As always, he handles it like getting it on his skin will make him explode. You can picture his grimace even without seeing it.

These are good thoughts, human thoughts. If you can just hold on a little longer, you'll be in the clear.

He sits down against the wall opposite you, leaning back with his legs crossed. You'd groan if you could. The closest thing you manage is a low grumble. He waits for you to emerge. You can feel his concern that you aren't coming out to eat, because you're always ravenous at this point. He has no idea that the rabbit has no appeal for you right now, that he's the one tempting you to come out.

You wait long, agonizing minutes, locked in place because you don't dare to move, at a loss as to what you could do. At some point he starts talking about nothing, telling you about how recording went today, and eventually recounting the plot of the weird low-budget horror movie he and Mikey went to see last week. He's being very sweet, and it does help you keep a handle on your humanity, but it's not going to work much longer. Your dick has had no stimulation for so long that it's becoming a real problem - earlier you thought rutting against the mattress wasn't doing anything, but now you realize it was at least keeping the heat from getting worse. You're so wet that the fur of your inner thighs feels slick, and you're slowly losing any regained ability to think straight. You feel feverish. Finally, you have an idea.

Carefully, you reach out. He stops talking. You can barely touch the corner of the butcher paper, and you slide the rabbit under the bed with you. There. Maybe now that he's seen you take the food he'll leave.

He does sigh in relief, but he doesn't get up. Instead, he says, "Can I just get a look at you? I want to see you're not hurt."

You weigh your options. If you have enough willpower to come out and stay still for no longer than 10 seconds, that might be more doable than trying to hold on for the rest of the night, or however long it takes him to leave. Shit. Okay. Here you go. You slide out on your belly, then pull yourself up in the crouching position you find comfortable, then lock your muscles into place. You try not to look at him, soft and warm and vulnerable. You try not to shake.

Belatedly, you realize you've forgotten your dick is on display. You realize this because he's looking at it, and his face is very, very red. "Oh," he says, voice high. "I see the problem." But he's still not leaving, maybe doesn't understand what he's doing to you by being here. You start to shrink back under the bed, but he reaches out and scratches your head. You melt into the touch even as you feel like you're coiling up to pounce. You wish he would stop looking at your dick.

"That looks painful," he says, then swallows. "Do you need any - do you need anything?"

You snap. Next thing you know you're straddling his lap, one hand pushing his shoulder back into the wall, nosing at his neck. You're breathing in his scent right behind his ear and he smells so fucking good you could eat him. You realize you're whining frantically, clawing at his clothing as he squirms. You snag a beltloop and pull him back from the wall, and you're crouching over him flat on the ground before he gets through to you.

"Whoa, okay! Shit, hey -" he tugs hard on your ear, and that finally gets your attention enough that you regain some self-awareness, scramble away. You jump back on the bed and burrow under the blankets again. It takes all your remaining willpower to keep from rutting against the mattress where he can see. He's standing in the doorway, a few spots of blood on his shirt from your attempt to claw it off. He looks panicked, almost, and says, "I'll be right back, okay?"

Does he have to be? You don't actually believe it, anyway. You try jerking off but your hands just don't work well enough for that kind of coordination. You don't know how much time you spend trying anything to get off. Eventually a smell starts wafting in that sends you absolutely out of your mind - it smells like arousal. It smells like Ray, and you can't fucking take it. You don't have the presence of mind to wonder why he's putting off a scent that says he's ready for sex.

He opens the door in just his boxers, and the sight is so bizarre and unexpected it shocks you still. He shuts the door behind him without turning, like he's scared to show his back to you. You crouch at the end of the bed and his breath hitches under your predator's gaze. Before you completely lose control again, he says, "I prepped myself. Since it's not like you could do it." He glances at your claws and comes closer, sliding out of his underwear and sitting on the bed up at the headboard. You swivel around to watch him, heart pounding in your ears. "No offense, but you didn't seem that worried about it either," he continues. You can hear his heart too, and smell the sex-receptive scent coming off of him. You actually don't even know if humans work that way, but that's sure what it fucking smells like to you.

"This is what you need, right?", he asks, like he's worried he got it wrong. You aren't capable of wondering if he wants this or is just trying to help, if he likes you, or anything else you'll wonder about later. All you have room to process is that you have permission, and with that your higher mind completely shuts off.

You're not sure how you even get across the shredded mattress, but you're vividly aware at the moment you push into him, his legs over your shoulders. It must have been fast because he looks kind of shocked. Your hands are on his chest and you try not to sink your claws in - that's about all the space you have to worry about his experience, because you're completely lost in the relief of finally beginning to satiate the heat. It slips your mind entirely that having enough dick to penetrate with in the first place is something you've wanted and have never before had.

After the initial rush the frenzy calms a little, and you become more aware of what you're fucking. Also lost on you is the fact that you've been trying to get something started with this guy for awhile now, and you didn't think this was how it was gonna happen, like, at all. There are several factors here you didn't account for. But that's higher thought that comes later - now all you're thinking is how pretty he is, how good he smells, that he thankfully does seem to be enjoying himself even if he looks a little scared. You sniff around his neck, breathing in his scent, and give a few little licks. In return he buries a hand in the thick fur behind your ear. You feel like you're getting close, and you whine and guide his free hand to his dick. He understands and starts jerking himself off, tightening around you as he cums. You keep going and he feels really tight, actually, and you see realization dawn on his face at the same time you understand what's happening. By then it's too late, and he feels so good you honestly aren't sure you could have stopped yourself if you'd figured it out sooner.

"Are you fucking knotting me?", he chokes out, and you whine, because you didn't know this was going to happen either. You finish a few seconds later and slump into him, panting. There's no cum, because even as a werewolf that's not how bottom growth works, but there sure is a knot just big enough to keep you inside. You feel so, so much better as you both reposition to get as comfortable as possible. He's stroking your face as you nuzzle into him, giving little licks and soft, affectionate bites.

It doesn't last long - after a minute you're beginning to think more clearly and have the capacity to feel bad about the whole thing. You stare at the scratches on his chest and try to remember what shirt he was wearing, really hoping you didn't ruin a favorite. Sucks that you're stuck together, because you kind of want to go dig a hole to hide in forever. And you can't even apologize because your mouth doesn't work like that. You grumble in a way you hope sounds remorseful.

"Yeah," he says, stroking your ears. "I can't believe I didn't see this coming. Sorry. Really glad I decided against sucking you off." He wiggles a little, testing. Still stuck. "It's not bad though," he says. "Took me by surprise, but we'll know to expect it next time."

Your ears perk up at "next time" and he notices, flushes. "That would be really awkward to say if this was just because I was the only one around. I mean, happy to help either way, but....."

You lick his cheek reassuringly and he laughs, makes a face. "This will be a lot easier when we can actually talk about this." He strokes one finger up your muzzle and you close your eyes. In a little while you'll finally be able to pull out of him, and in the morning you'll talk. Between those things he'll leave to clean up and you'll finally scarf down the rabbit before climbing back into bed, and he'll surprise you by returning from the bathroom to curl up next to you. As he drifts off, he'll mumble something about needing to get you a new mattress, and you'll both fall into one of the best nights of sleep in your lives.