Wild Side

Reese was almost asleep, lulled by the soft breathing of the man lying beside him, head pillowed on Reese’s shoulder, the warmth of their bodies making him feel peaceful and relaxed as only Finch could. He drew a deep, slow breath and sighed in contentment.

“John?” Finch asked, his voice soft.

“Mnn?” Reese grunted.

“Do you love me?”

It seemed a silly and insecure question from the older man, but upon reflection, Reese couldn’t remember ever speaking those words to Finch. He’d just assumed the genius knew. “Yes, Harold, I love you.” Without opening his eyes, he mustered the energy to turn his head and press a lingering kiss to Finch’s temple. “Do you love me?”

“More than anything,” Finch replied, and something in his tone pierced the haze of near-sleep, setting off alarms in Reese’s brain. “Which is why there’s something that I have to tell you.”

Reese opened his eyes. “That sounds serious.”

“It is serious. It’s the biggest secret I have, the one thing that I’ve never told anyone, and I don’t know how to say it except to just say it. I’m…I’m a werewolf.”

Reese didn’t know what to say. He lay there, staring up at the dark ceiling of his loft, wide awake and confused. Was it a joke? Part of him wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it, but it was too absurd to be a joke. Was it a test? It made no sense if it was, and by now, Finch should have known him well enough not to resort to stupid tests. The thought made him angry and a bit sad. But mostly he was just confused.

“You’re not saying anything,” Finch said after a moment.

“What should I say?” Reese asked. “I don’t understand what you want. Do you want me to say that I’d love you anyway, even if you were a werewolf? Because I would. Except that werewolves aren’t real. So you see where I might be confused.”

“Werewolves are real,” Finch said quietly, pushing back the covers and sitting up. He swung his legs out of bed and sat with his back to Reese. “I wasn’t injured in a car accident. That’s just what went into the official report, because saying I was attacked by a werewolf would have gotten me institutionalized. But I was. It was an assassin sent by the NSA to clean up the loose ends left after we built the Machine. It killed Nathan and almost killed me just because I was a witness, but it was interrupted before it could finish the job. A month later, I was a werewolf.”

“Bullshit,” Reese said, climbing out of bed and pacing back and forth in just his boxer-briefs. “The full moon was two nights ago and you were right here in bed with me the whole time.”

“It’s not triggered by the moon,” Finch said. “That’s old superstition and Hollywood. I control when I shift and I remain myself when in wolf form. I’m not dangerous. I’ve never hurt anyone and I’d never hurt you, I just need you to understand, to believe me.”

“I’m sorry, Harold, but I can’t. Not this time. What you’re saying just isn’t possible.”

Finch sighed. “Then I guess there’s nothing more to say.” He lay back down on the bed, on his side, facing away from Reese, an air of defeat hanging about him. Reese just stared at him for a long time, trying to understand why Finch would do this, what purpose it served. Finally, he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“All right, I believe you,” Reese said softly.

“No you don’t,” Finch replied. He was right.

“I believe that you believe that you’re a werewolf, and that’s–” He stopped, suddenly struck by a thought. “Show me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You said you can control it,” Reese said. “So show me. Shift. Turn into a wolf.”

“It’s not a parlor trick,” Finch said, and now he sounded angry.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, but it’s disorienting.”

“Harold, try to look at this from my perspective. Before you were attacked, if someone had told you that they were a werewolf, would you have believed them?”

“No,” Finch admitted after a moment, “I don’t suppose I would have. All right, I’ll shift.” He climbed out of bed and limped into the middle of the open loft area. He suddenly looked nervous. “Do you have a gun within reach?”

“Yes.” Several, actually. “Do I need one?”

“No, I just need you to promise that you won’t use it on me.”

“Finch…” Reese said reproachfully, but Finch was dead serious. “I promise. I could never hurt you.”

Finch nodded, then took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Reese felt a stirring of sympathy for the confused man and began planning how he was going convince Finch to get psychiatric help, when something strange started to happen around Finch. It was like a black cloud forming around him, a thick, dark mist obscuring his body. The cloud roiled and twisted, changing shape before starting to dissipate. And if that wasn’t strange enough, when the mist cleared, a large, shaggy, pale gray wolf stood in the middle of the room, Finch’s blue-gray eyes regarding Reese with trepidation.

For what felt like hours, they just stood there, staring at each other. Reese could feel his heart pounding in his throat, could hear the blood rushing through his veins, his mouth dry and palms sweaty. Finally, the wolf gave a low whine and took a step forward, his toenails clicking on the hardwood floor.

Reese scrambled back, shoving his hand under the mattress for one of the guns he kept there, and the wolf quickly backed up, his head low and tail tucked between his legs as he limped away. The eyes, the limp — it couldn’t be.

“Harold, wait,” Reese said, letting go of his pistol and pulling his hands out from under the mattress. He held them up, showing that they were empty, as the wolf turned stiffly to look at him. “I’m sorry, it was a reflex. You startled me.” His heart was still racing, a tremor shaking his body as adrenaline coursed through his veins. “I…I guess I didn’t expect it to really happen.”

Finch sat down on his haunches and cocked his head to one side.

“I know, you told me. I should have believed you.”

The wolf nodded.

“Can you speak like that?”

Finch shook his head.

“Are you able to shift back, or do you have to wait for it to wear off?”

Finch cocked his head to the opposite side, his furry brows lowering in a passable frown. It took Reese a moment to realize the problem.

“Right — yes or no questions. Sorry. Can you shift back?”

Finch nodded, then slumped to the floor, rolling onto his side and raising a paw to cover his long muzzle as he heaved a great sigh.

“I was never very good at Charades,” Reese said. “You can shift back, but it makes you faint? Or just tired?”

Finch sat up and nodded again, and Reese guessed it was the second option.

“That’s okay, I don’t think I’m ready to have you go back. Is it…is it okay if I touch you?”

The wolf nodded, a plaintive whine escaping him.

“Would you like that?” He couldn’t see Finch, not usually one for cuddling or casual contact, wanting to be touched, but the wolf nodded his shaggy head and went down on his belly, rolling over to expose his vulnerable underside in a posture of submission. Reese supposed that was as harmless as a wolf got. Hesitantly, he walked over, awed by the size of Finch in this form — easily as tall as Reese if he stood on his hind legs, his paws larger than the palm of Reese’s hand, his head as big around as a basketball. His thick coat was the color of sterling silver, with darker gray and black hairs down his back, and snow white fur on his belly.

“You’re gorgeous,” Reese whispered. If a wolf could look embarrassed, Finch did, turning his head away, but his tail wagged, swishing back and forth across the floor. Encouraged, Reese knelt down beside him, his hand trembling slightly as he reached out and let his fingers sink into the shaggy fur, the outer guard hairs stiff, but the undercoat like goose down. Slowly, he ran his hand back through Finch’s coat, from shoulder to hip, then repeated the motion, feeling the warmth of the body beneath the fur, the solid, rippling muscles beneath the skin, the faint beat of a strong heart within the chest. “This is unbelievable,” Reese murmured.

The wolf raised his head, looking up at Reese with such intelligent, human eyes, he had no doubt that it was Finch looking out at him. Finch shifted closer, nosing at Reese’s unoccupied hand, just like a dog wanting to be petted, and Reese obliged, scratching behind Finch’s ears. Finch groaned low in his chest, his eyes rolling back and his long, pink tongue lolling out in a wolfish grin.

Reese chuckled. “Feels good, eh?” He brought both hands into play, scratching the wolf’s jowls, Finch’s obvious enjoyment making him grow bolder and more at ease. He ruffled the thick fur at the back of Finch’s neck, fingers working through the coat, scratching and rubbing–

Finch let out a small yelp and jerked away, toenails scratching the wooden floor as he sat up.

“Harold, what–”

The wolf stood up, taking a few hobbling steps in one direction, then turning and coming back, his limp exaggerated. The limp. His neck.

“Oh, Harold, I’m so sorry,” Reese said. “I forgot.”

The wolf stepped over to him, and on his knees, Reese was able to stare straight into those gray-blue eyes. He flinched as the warm, wet tongue lashed out, nailing him on the cheek. He reached up and wiped the saliva away.

“Does that mean I’m forgiven, or are you trying to decide if I’ll taste good?”

Finch whined and sat down on his haunches, lifting one front paw and placing it on Reese’s shoulder before leaning into him and laying his massive head on the opposite shoulder, the wolf equivalent of a hug. Reese wrapped his arms around Finch, both of them taking deep, shuddering breaths.

“I love you so much,” Reese whispered, carefully gripping handfuls of the thick coat low on Finch’s shoulders where the skin was loose and wouldn’t hurt his neck. After a moment, Finch drew back far enough to look into Reese’s eyes and it was obvious that he felt the same. His tongue snaked out again and he licked Reese’s cheek, making Reese laugh. He lapped at Reese’s jaw line, then down onto his neck, snuffling behind Reese’s ear and sending shivers down his spine.

“Not that I would ever complain about you showing affection,” Reese said with a chuckle, “but this might get a little weird if you don’t stop.” But rather than stop, Finch began to lick his way down to Reese’s chest, long tongue raking across a nipple and making Reese’s cock start to harden. “Finch, what the hell are you doing?”

The wolf raised his head, regarding Reese with a look that needed no interpretation.

Reese swallowed hard. “But…but you’re a- a wolf. An animal.”

Finch shook his head and Reese could just imagine the dry voice, the wry little smile, It’s still just me, John.

“Yeah, but you don’t look like you,” Reese said. “Or feel like you.” He reached up and ruffled the furry ears. Finch gave him a sideways look and another of those wolfish grins, his eyebrows waggling up and down suggestively. Then he moved back and leaned down to lick at his own cock as it poked up out of the furry sheath. “Show off,” Reese said, curiosity and arousal overpowering whatever else he might have been feeling. He stretched out a hand, fingertips brushing the firm, downy globes of Finch’s balls, and Finch raised his head, returning to licking Reese’s chest as Reese began to massage the sheath, coaxing more of that bright red canine cock out. Reese groaned as Finch’s head dropped to his lap, hot breath whuffing against his crotch as he nosed the bulge in Reese’s boxer-briefs.

Suddenly, Finch lunged forward, shoving the top of his head against Reese’s chest and sending him over backward, sprawling on the hard wooden floor.

“Easy, Harold,” Reese said with a nervous laugh, slightly unnerved by the effortless strength in the lean wolf’s body. Finch stood up, gave himself a shake, and then stepped over Reese’s body, front paws on one side, back paws on the other, and lay down across him. “Jesus, you’re heavy,” Reese panted, both hands pushing at a furry shoulder. Finch drew his back legs under him a bit further, taking some of the weight off of Reese’s chest, but he didn’t get up, and as Reese pushed harder at that muscular shoulder, he suddenly realized that he was at a severe disadvantage. A rush of fear washed over him. Finch was much stronger.

Finch looked stiffly over his shoulder at Reese, then turned and began to nuzzle Reese’s crotch again, powerful tongue licking at Reese’s hard shaft through the thin material, making Reese groan and shift his legs restlessly, his fingers digging into Finch’s thick coat. A wet nose pressed against Reese’s belly as Finch worked it beneath the waistband, using his muzzle to push down Reese’s boxer-briefs and free his aching cock.

“Oh, sweet fuck, Harold!” Reese gasped as that long, sinuous tongue wrapped around the head of his cock, stroking and squeezing as he licked down to Reese’s balls and back up again. Reese moaned and tried to lift his hips off the floor as Finch lapped at his slit, licking up the pre-come that leaked from Reese’s cock, but he was effectively pinned beneath Finch’s weight. He was completely at Finch’s mercy.

His breathing grew fast and ragged, small, helpless noises slipping between his lips, and just as the pressure inside him neared critical mass, Finch shifted his attention elsewhere, licking the pink scar on Reese’s thigh where he’d been shot.

“Finch, don’t be a fucking tease,” Reese panted, part admonition, part desperate plea.

Finch got up, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he turned and limped over to the bed, casting a backward look at Reese before leaping up onto the rumpled blankets. Out of breath and shaking, Reese finished stripping off his underwear as he got up off the floor, his stiff cock swaying back and forth as he approached the bed. He eyed that red, tapered wolf cock, suddenly nervous.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” he said.

Finch whined and stepped over to the edge of the bed, nuzzling beneath Reese’s chin and rubbing the side of his head against Reese’s chest. Reese carefully scratched him behind the ears.

“I know you’ll be gentle,” he said. “It’s just…a bit much really fast. But I’ll try. I just don’t want you to be disappointed if I can’t.”

That talented tongue darted out to lap at Reese’s nipple, making his cock twitch. Finch stepped back and pawed at the bed, indicating where he wanted Reese. Reese started to get on, then changed his mind, hurrying into the bathroom instead. He returned a moment later with a bottle of lubricant in hand.

“Don’t want to forget this,” he said, popping the cap.

Finch made a low sound, almost a growl, and Reese stopped, arching an eyebrow as Finch shook his head.

“No lube? Are you out of your mind?”

Finch pawed the bed again and whined before leaning down and licking the tip of his protruding cock.

“All right, fine,” Reese said, closing the bottle and tossing it down on the bed. “You better have a good reason.”

The wolf grinned at him and licked his chops. Reese climbed onto the bed, positioning himself on his hands and knees, a nervous flutter dancing in the pit of his stomach. He swallowed hard, waiting for Finch to mount him, and was instead startled by a cold, wet nose pressing between his cheeks.

“Oh, holy hell, Finch,” he breathed as that hot tongue began to lap at his entrance, making him quiver inside, a trembling heat gathering low in his gut. He spread his legs, dropping to his elbows and pressing his forehead against the sheets as he gasped for breath. Finch licked relentlessly at that tight ring of muscle, loosening and stretching him, tongue pistoning in and out of Reese’s body. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Reese repeated, hands balling into fists as he resisted the orgasm that threatened to overwhelm him.

Finch drew back and Reese grunted as the wolf’s impressive weight came down on his back, front legs clasping his waist and hot breath on the back of his neck. Finch panted and whined, hips thrusting, rubbing the tip of his cock along the cleft of Reese’s ass, smearing it with thick pre-come. It took a couple of tries, but suddenly Finch found his target, sliding in deep and making the breath catch in Reese’s chest. It didn’t hurt, but it was a strange feeling, more like a thick finger than a cock, hot and slick. Finch growled and jerked his hips, and Reese gasped as he felt a spongy mass at the base of Finch’s cock slip inside him.

“Oh, God, Harold!” Reese cried, clenching around Finch’s length as he came, striping the sheets with his seed. Finch threw back his head and howled, and Reese cried out again as the knot at the base of Finch’s shaft swelled, preventing him from pulling out. Finch continued to thrust and twitch, the rocking motion rubbing against Reese’s prostate and leaving him light-headed and shaking, barely able to remain on his knees and elbows.

Finally, Finch grew still, his breathing heavy. He tried to adjust his bad leg, but the movement caused a sharp pain where their bodies were currently joined, causing Reese to draw a hissing breath.

“I think we’re stuck,” he said, his voice hoarse. He’d heard that this happened to dogs, but he couldn’t remember how long it was supposed to last. And hour? God, he hoped not.

Finch lowered his head and gently licked the sweaty skin between Reese’s shoulder blades as though to soothe him. Before Reese could ask What now? a cold sensation crawled across his back and down his sides, like standing in the spray of a waterfall and letting the mist drift over his skin. He glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes widening as he watched the wolf dematerialize into a dark, swirling cloud and return Finch back to his human form, with human anatomy.

He slipped out of Reese without any discomfort, both of them collapsing to the bed, completely spent.

“Thank you, John,” Finch whispered. “That was amazing.”

“You’re telling me,” Reese said with a breathless laugh. “I’ll never look at ‘doggie style’ the same way again.”

Finch chuckled, but then grew serious. “I didn’t push you into it, did I? I mean, it wasn’t too…perverse?”

“It was a little strange in the beginning,” Reese admitted, “but it’s still you, no matter what shape or form you take. I love you, Harold.”

“I love you, too, John.”

Reese smiled and pulled Finch into  his arms, drawing the covers up over them as Finch tucked his head under Reese’s chin, his head resting on Reese’s shoulder. With a contented sigh, Reese closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, holding tight to the werewolf at his side.