
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13570746.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      X-Men_(Movieverse), X-Men_-_All_Media_Types
  Relationship:
      Erik_Lehnsherr/Charles_Xavier
  Character:
      Erik_Lehnsherr, Charles_Xavier, Kurt_Marko_(mentioned), Cain_Marko_
      (mentioned)
  Additional Tags:
      little_red_riding_hood_elements, Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence,
      Alternate_Universe_-_Werewolf, erik_is_a_werewolf, Charles_is_Little_Red,
      And_possibly_Underaged, Blood_and_Gore, Blood_and_Violence, Blood_and
      Injury, Light_Stalking, graphic_description_of_gore, Murder, Graphic
      Description_of_Corpses, Mentions_of_past_abuse, Step-siblings, Non-
      Graphic_Violence, Werewolf_Sex, kind_of, Loss_of_Virginity, Rough_Sex,
      Rough_Kissing, Violent_Sex, Howling, Growling, Werewolf_Noises, Dirty
      Talk, Song_Lyrics, Smut, Anal_Sex, Anal_Fingering, Hand_Jobs, Come_as
      Lube, Come_Eating_(Light), Coming_Untouched, Multiple_Orgasms,
      Overstimulation, Lots_of_kissing, Frottage
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-02-04 Words: 7322
****** if you go down to the woods today ******
by Shea_M_(bubblebee)
Summary
     "If you go down to the woods today,
     you're sure of a big surprise..."
Notes
     I wanted to do a werewolf au and this is what happened.
     Underage tag in place because ages are never specified, but Charles
     is called 'boy' a whole lot.
     There's gore description here, so be careful of that.
     Title from "Teddy Bear's Picnic" by Anne Murray.
     The lyrics are also hers, I own nothing. Nada. Not a thing.
See the end of the work for more notes
“Just stay on the goddamn trail and you’ll be fine, now stop bitching and get
ready.”
 
Charles laced up his walking boots while his stepfather cursed at him from his
spot on the couch, his words slurred heavily with drink.
 
It was just now past four, and Charles had been given the task of delivering a
few miscellaneous supplies to his older stepbrother who lived just beyond the
wide stretch of forest that separated his little house from the rest of the
town.
 
It was a long trip, about four hours on foot, which was Charles’ only means of
transportation since his stepfather wouldn’t allow him to drive his car,
untrusting in the small boy to bring it back in one piece.
 
Charles didn’t mind the walk so much, as he enjoyed the alone time the long
walk would provide him with.
 
He didn’t get that very often around here. His stepfather was almost always
drunk, and tended to barge into Charles’ small room unannounced to shout at him
about things that the small boy had nothing to do with.
 
Charles finished fussing with his laces and got up to retrieve the large wicker
basket that contained his step brother's things. He didn’t know what was
inside, and he was hesitant to peek as there was no telling what kind of things
the older man was into these days.
 
Making sure to grab his apple red coat from the rack, Charles shouted his
departure to his stepfather who had most likely passed out in his spot on the
couch, before stepping out into the cool, autumn air.
 
The sun was setting beyond the cluster of trees in front of him, casting the
sky in light hues of pink and orange. Charles admired the colors for a moment
before taking the first steps into his journey, boots crunching on the fallen
leaves of mid-autumn, skin prickling with goose pimples underneath his coat at
the chill of the breeze passing through.
 
Charles wrapped his arms around him as best as he could with the heavy basket
wrapped around one and tried to ignore the uneasy feeling that passed through
him as he walked into the trees, eyes carefully on the trail ahead of him so as
not to stray from it absently.
 
The deeper he wandered, the darker it got.
 
Though the sun still fought to cast it’s last rays, it wasn’t enough to light
the trail Charles walked.
 
This wasn’t the first time he’d been sent to into the woods to deliver
something to his stepbrother, so Charles wasn’t too afraid, as he knew the moon
would soon rise and the trail would shine with it’s dull glow just enough for
him to see.
 
It was a full moon tonight as well, which would bring an even brighter glow
into the trees.
 
Charles had walked for what felt like an eternity when the moon finally started
to shine at its fullest, it's presence in the sky bright like the palest star,
the glow of it just strong enough to reach the trail where Charles ambled.
 
It was only when the moon had reached its peak did Charles start to hear a
noise.
 
It was faint and sounded very far away, but it was  loud,  even from this
distance.
 
Charles stopped moving once he heard the noise ring out into the night, his
ears straining to hear the noise through the music of the crickets scattered
about, and for a moment that was all he could hear.
 
Until it sounded through the woods again.
 
It was a vicious and thunderous  roar  that echoed through the spaces in the
trees and left Charles breathless where he stood, frozen, trembling. It lasted
a only few seconds before dying down to a howl and then quieting completely,
leaving even the crickets fearfully silent in its wake.
 
Charles quickened his pace once he was able to move again, fearfully alert of
what could be lurking around the outskirts of the forest. He was a smart boy,
he knew what sort of creatures made their home deep in the dark of the trees,
though he’d never been unfortunate enough to run into anything on his previous
trips.
 
There was still miles of wood between him and his step brother’s house, and
with the roars still resonating in his ears, Charles was becoming more and more
uneasy.
 
Charles did his best to just  keep moving  and tried to ignore his lingering
apprehensiveness.
 
It took awhile, but with every step he took, Charles could feel his fear slowly
start to melt. The call of the owls and the snapping of the leaves and twigs
under his feet lulled him back into placidity, and soon Charles forgot all
about the haunting bellow of the unknown creature.
 
He even started to sing quietly to himself, his soft voice filling the silent
spaces the sounds of the forest couldn’t quite reach.
 
Nearly three hours had passed since Charles first left the warmth of his small
home, and he figured he was close by now, as he was starting to recognize some
of the landmarks that floated around his step brother's land.
 
There was the twisted and gnarled tree that was laid permanently on its side
and the rusted, broken bear trap that sat just a few feet away, both of them
resting about ten miles outside of that horrid man’s house.
 
Charles was so wrapped up in his excitement to be halfway done with his journey
that it took him a moment to realize he was no longer singing alone.
 
There was a second voice filling the chill in the air.
 
This one was low, deep, and grating, slithering over Charles’ skin and filling
him with icy dread.
 
Charles stopped dead, the leaves underfoot giving a final, dying crunch before
the woods fell eerily silent. Not even the crickets dared to sing, becoming
silent once they realized that the stage no longer belonged to them.
 
The voice got closer, and everything inside of Charles screamed at him to  run,
but Charles couldn’t move.
 
He could only listen as the song he was singing just a moment ago was sang by
something else .


“If you go down to the woods today,
 
 you’re sure of a big surprise.
 
If you go down to the woods today,
 
you better go in disguise!”


The pound of Charles’ heart was  deafening  in his ears, his mind struggling
hear the daunting thoughts dashing through it.
 
Move, damn it, move!
 
Then a moment later, something more lurid.
 
That voice belongs to no man but beasts cannot sing.
 
Still, Charles remained motionless, paralyzed by the unsettlingly guttural song


“For every bear that ever there was,
 
will gather there for certain because,
 
today’s the day the teddy bears have their…”


The singing abruptly stopped with that final purred note.
 
The forest remained silent.
 
Not even Charles dared to breathe.
 
He waited. Statuesque and silent, waiting for the forest to come alive again,
the predator gone and with it the threat.
 
Then there was a soft crunch behind Charles, and a word whispered into his ear.
 
“Picnic.”
 
A terrified gasp shot out of Charles’ throat, and then he was running.
 
The darkness blurred and turned to ink around him as sprinted through the
trees, moving faster than he ever has before, a nervous energy buzzing through
his veins.
 
Briefly, Charles thought about dropping the basket, but his body dismissed it
before it could even fully form and told him to just keep  running, Charles,
just keep running.
 
Another powerful howl called out from behind him, far too close for comfort,
and Charles knew he was being chased.
 
Hunted.
 
Like  prey .
 
The inky trees whipped around him, the chilled air stung his cheeks and dried
the unnoticed tears running down his face faster than they could fall, but
Charles didn’t stop.
 
He ignored the pain in his chest and the ache in his legs and the bounding
footsteps he  swore  he could hear behind him.
 
Charles didn’t even think about stopping until he suddenly saw golden lights in
the distance, beckoning him closer and promising him warmth and safety.
 
His step brother’s house.
 
He was almost there.
 
Charles could practically  feel  the warmth of the flames crackling in his step
brother’s fireplace and then suddenly the ground was rushing up to meet him.
 
He slammed into the earth, teeth cutting painfully sharp into his bottom lip,
blood spilling from the wound and onto the autumn leaves below him.
 
The basket holding his step brother’s belongings goes flying and then skids to
a stop a few feet in front of him, but Charles barely notices.
 
 Disoriented, the boy stayed where was for a moment, trying to listen to the
trees around him.
 
Everything was still.
 
The predator was still hunting.
 
Slowly, Charles moved his head from side to side, sweeping the forest floor for
any signs of the creature stalking him.
 
He found none, only fallen leaves and pale, shimmering moonlight.
 
A thick growl, almost a purr, drummed out from behind him and vibrated through
his bones.
 
He was up before he even made the decision to move.
 
It wasn’t until he was bursting through the thicket of trees that outlined his
step brother’s backyard did he realize how ridiculous he would look to the
older man. Running through the woods empty handed when his father had already
told him that Charles would be bringing his things.
 
He could already imagine the look on the man’s face when he panted out his
story about being chased through the woods by a large predator.
 
His step brother wasn’t going to be too happy, but Charles couldn’t bring
himself to care.
Charles didn’t stop until he was slamming into the back door of the little
cottage, hands pounding furiously on the smooth wood, panicked voice working
its way through his burning throat to call out to the man inside.
 
There is no answer.
 
He tries the handle and finds it locked.
 
All it takes is one long, blood-curdling roar from the trees for Charles to
summon the last of his strength and kick the door in, wood splintering from the
force.
 
He hurries inside and shuts the door, then quickly looks around the small
kitchen for something to put in front of it. He spots a heavy looking china
cabinet and pushes it in front of the door, glass tinkling inside the glass
case as it scraped across the wooden floor.
 
Once he has it resting firmly against the door, Charles tries to calm himself,
knowing he needs to think rationally if he wants to make it back home.
 
He settles down enough to take in his surroundings.
 
It’s then that he notices his alone.
 
Surely if his step brother  were  in, he’d come running to the sound of his
door being busted in, even if he’d been drinking earlier in the day. His step
brother wasn’t a heavy sleeper, inebriated or not, and Charles had the scars to
prove it.
 
He’d endured many beatings as a child from by the hands of the older man,
simply because he’d woken him up by being too loud when playing.
 
Charles listened for any signs of movement, from the inside or the outside, but
he was met with nothing but quiet and the soft crackling of a fire a couple
rooms away.
 
Apprehension pooled in his stomach once more.
 
Something terrible has happened, Charles could feel it.
 
Making sure to keep his footsteps as silent as possible, he creeps through the
kitchen, through the dining room, and into the living room.
 
He’s mindful of every noise he thinks he hears outside. The sitting room tells
him nothing besides the approximate time the fire has been burning.
 
It takes Charles’ a few seconds to realize that that’s more than nothing.
 
It tells him that his step brother is presumably still in the house, as he
would never be dull enough to leave a fire burning if he was going out.
 
Which means he most likely  did  wake up when Charles kicked down the door.
 
Knowing the older man like he did, Charles guessed his step brother was likely
armed and hiding.
 
More alert than he had been since entering the home, Charles cautiously and
quietly made his way down the hall, his boots softly thumping against the
hardwood floor. He was warm in his favored red coat now, sweat beading on his
brow and curling the hair at the nape of his neck.
 
His lip had stopped bleeding, a small stream of blood sat caked on his chin. He
wiped it away with his sleeve.
 
Charles made it to the master bedroom, the door was firmly shut, but a soft,
golden light spilled into the hallway from under the door. He braced a shaking
hand against the heavy wood and slowly pushed.
 
His step brother was still in the house, but he wasn’t armed and hiding.
 
Instead, he was torn open, gutted, and smeared along the walls.
 
Charles didn’t scream, he couldn’t. All he could do was turn, and vomit onto
the floor.
 
Once he was done emptying the contents of his stomach, Charles reached a hand
out and pulled the door closed, not wanting look at the mutilated remains of
his step brother anymore.
 
As much as he loathed the older man, no one deserved to die like that.
 
The boy was still hunched over the puddle of sick when a terrible crash rang
throughout the house, the sound of shattering glass and splintering wood sent
ice cold dread straight to Charles’ heart.
 
For the second time that night, Charles’ body acted before his mind could catch
up, sending him racing for the closet doors just a few feet away.
 
He stuffed himself inside and shut the door just as another crash sounded out,
this one closer than the last, as if someone were throwing things around in the
other room.
 
Charles’ panicked sobs were loud, too loud, in the tiny space.
 
He pressed a hand over his mouth to stifle them just as a menacing growl filled
the spot where Charles once stood.
 
His lungs suddenly seized up, and Charles held his breath as something walked
into the room.
 
It was a man.
 
Or, at least it  looked  like a man.
 
Charles’ eyes had to be playing tricks on him. That, or he was  out of his
mind.
 
Once the figure stepped fully into blood painted bedroom, its head turned away
as it searched for any sign of its prey, Charles knew he was out of his mind
insane. He had to be, because there was no explanation for this.
 
It  was  a man, and a very attractive one at that.
 
What about the howls?  A voice whispered in the back of his mind.  What about
the voice sang your song? That was no man's voice. No  man  could sound like
that.
 
The voice was right, no man  could  sound like that.
 
Charles shifted a little closer to the door so he could see better through the
small crack in the double doors.
 
It’s face was surely man, that much he could tell.
 
The sharp cheekbones and even sharper jawline made the young boy’s knees quake,
threatening to send him tumbling onto the floor of the large, walk in closet.
The hair seemed to be of a dusty brown color, and the eyes-
 
Charles gasped quietly behind his hand when he saw those eyes.
 
Those certainly were  not  a man’s eyes.
 
They glowed like a harvest moon, a deep orange surrounding a barely there dot
of black.
 
Despite the alarming shade of the eyes, the figure looked entirely human.
 
From the broad shoulders and slim waist, to the long sturdy looking legs.
 
For a moment, Charles thought about stepping out from his hiding spot, so he
could introduce himself and ask the man for help.
Then Charles heard the growl again, and slowly came to realize it was coming
from deep within the man’s chest. It was an inhuman noise, one no man should be
capable of, and it sounded angry, frustrated.
 
Because it couldn’t find it’s prey.
 
Dread raced through Charles’ veins and caused his body to tremble, his legs
given out under him and his body slowly collapsing to the closet floor. He
shuffled back as deep into the closet as he could go, and then he waited.
 
Another growl, this one more subdued, as if it was starting to figure something
out…
 
Charles had just barely put it together when the closet doors were ripped off
their hinges and thrown across the room, the sounds of splitting wood lost
beneath his terrified shouts.
 
The man stepped into the closet with Charles, eyes hungrily roaming over his
body.
 
Charles tried to scamper backwards some more, to get away from those ravenous
eyes, but he was only met with more wall.
 
He was trapped.
 
He was going to die.
 
Tears ran freely down Charles’ face, his sobs the only sound in the small
space. He didn’t know his exact fate, but the splattered remains of his step
brother gave him a hint of what it could be.
 
The man didn’t move from his spot in the hollow door way for a long moment,
just stood there and stared, his glowing eyes taking in Charles’ huddled,
shaken form.
 
His eager gaze had softened slightly, though it was still hungry, it seemed as
though the man was thinking something over.
 
This look did nothing to ease Charles’ anxiety, as there was no telling what
was running through the stranger’s mind now.
 
Suddenly the stranger reached out, faster than Charles could fight, grabbing
the boy tightly by the ankle and pulling him out of the closet, then down the
hall, narrowly avoiding the sick puddle.
 
His skin burned where it was roughly dragged across the wood, and Charles tried
to kick out at the man to knock him loose, but he didn’t have the leverage.
 
Sharp pain bloomed from where he was gripped and Charles looked down to
discover that long claws now adorned the man’s hand, cutting impossibly deep
into Charles’ boots.
 
The boy’s suspicions were confirmed.
 
Not a man , Charles thought wildly,  something else entirely.
 
The  thing  didn’t let him go until they were in the living room, the fire
burning strongly in the fireplace, and Charles thought for one fleeting moment
that it seemed like the logs had been replaced.
 
His bleeding leg was set gently back on the floor, and for a moment Charles
thought about running, but he knew there was nowhere he could go that he would
not be found.
 
Charles laid still where he was put, chest heaving with panic, and he watched
as the savage took in its surroundings thoughtfully before leaving the room
entirely, walking out of the boy’s line of sight.
 
He sat up quickly then, and took the time alone to inspect the severity of his
injuries.
 
Removing his boot was a painful task, but once it was off Charles gently lifted
the leg of his trousers and was met with five small puncture wounds. They
weren’t terribly deep, but they were painful and oozing with fat drops blood.
 
Charles picked up his boot again and looked over the puncture holes in the
leather with wonder
 
No matter what his stalker turned captor was, Charles had to admit that it’s
strength and physical features were fascinating.
 
A noise from the kitchen had Charles prepared to use his boot as weapon to fend
off his captor, but what he saw enter the room was not the same figure that had
left earlier.
 
Charles swallowed down a scream as a dreadfully  large  black wolf came
sauntering into the sitting room with him, all inky fur and devastatingly sharp
teeth that glistened in the light of the fire.
 
The only thing that kept the boy rooted where he sat were the beast’s glowing,
blood orange eyes.
 
The creature before him was the same man as before.
 
Ghosts of fairy tales read to him as a child by a mother that used to care ran
though his mind, all of them whispering the same fabled word.
 
Werewolf.
 
The thing that stalked him through the trees, the thing that sung to him in a
voice like broken gravel.
 
The thing that tore his wicked step brother to shreds and cornered him in a
house he could not escape from.
 
Was a werewolf, called upon by the pull of tonight’s full moon.
 
If Charles wasn’t so dreadfully fascinated, he would’ve been sickeningly
terrified. Even as a child, Charles never once thought that those fairytales
held even an inkling of truth in them, all of them creative cautionary tales to
deter children from running around alone at night.
 
Charles almost laughed at the irony in it all.
 
The beast stood patiently in front of him, eyes glowing almost encouragingly,
waiting for the boy to piece it all together.
 
It must’ve seen something telling in the boy’s eyes, because it blinked slowly
once, as if it was nodding, then dropped to the floor so it could lay down.
 
Charles tried to scoot backwards so he could give the large beast some room,
but instead a loud cry tore its way out of his chest when tried to move his
injured ankle.
 
The beast made a noise like it was concerned and shuffled closer to Charles,
the air between them filling with a soft sniffing as it nosed at the boy’s
ankle.
 
It’s snout was cold and wet, making Charles giggle lightly at the tickle before
he could hold it back.
 
The beast let out a huff, like it was laughing too.
 
Charles sat still while the beast did it’s own inspection, but was unable to
hold back a slight jerk of pain when it ran it’s hot tongue over the wounds.
 
Soft whines left the beasts throat as it lapped at Charles’ ankle, and the boy
suddenly realized that it was saying sorry.
 
Slowly, Charles reached out a trembling hand, and stroked it through the
beasts’ thick, black fur.
 
It stopped its lapping, and the whines became purrs as Charles pet and
scratched at the beasts large head. Good lord, the thing had to be bigger than
Charles’ own bed!
 
Charles pet the beast a moment more before he decided he should say something.
 
Anything.
 
He cleared his throat and opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
 
Suddenly he felt silly, trying to talk to an impossibly large animal, but the
boy figured they were going to be here for awhile because it didn’t seem like
the beast planned on eating him.
 
He might as well be friendly.
 
“Did, um, did you...did you do that to him?”
 
Charles didn’t specify who ‘him’ was, but he knew he didn’t need to.
The wolf’s apricot eyes grew sharp and focused before glowing soft, mournful.
 
That was all Charles needed.
 
“ Why ?” The boy whispered.
 
He wasn’t crying over his step brother’s death by any means, but his murder was
brutal, and Charles wanted to know why.
 
He of course didn’t expect the beast to answer him, but in a way, it did.
 
The wolf let out a savage growl that made Charles cry out and snatch his hand
away from the beast’s fur.
 
The growl lasted a moment longer, rumbling through the room, making the boy
shake softly.
 
Charles wasn’t scared, exactly, but he didn’t feel safe either.  
 
He wasn’t sure what he was.
 
The rumbling died down to a whine and then the beast shook it’s massive body,
as if to shake away its previous displeasure.
 
With a final huff, the wolf fell silent and fixed Charles with a piercing gaze.
 
Then there was a crack, followed by another whine, and then something started
to happen.
 
The beast was shifting, transforming.
A hand flew to Charles’ mouth as the beast’s large body started to change, its
bones breaking only to heal again in another form. The snapping of bone made
his stomach churn, but Charles couldn’t, wouldn’t look away.
 
The beast became smaller, like it was melting, fur falling away to reveal
smooth skin underneath.
 
Its head reshaping to resemble that of a man’s, long snout turning into a
mockery of the sharp cheekbones and even sharper jawline Charles saw on the man
before.
 
Slowly, the beast of a wolf melted away to the man that dragged Charles into
the sitting room what felt like hours ago.
 
Except now, the man was naked.
 
Charles felt a blush bloom across his face at the all exposed skin, but the man
appeared unbothered by his bareness.
 
A knowing smirk slowly tugged at the other man’s lips, and red hot irritation
formed in Charles’ chest.
 
Butterflies fluttered to life in his stomach at the devilish smile, but Charles
ignored them and focused on his annoyance instead.  
 
“Now that you are no longer beast, some  coverage  is in order, don’t you
think?” Charles said, raising a sharp eyebrow, trying his best to appear
unphased and not frightened.
 
The man barked out a sharp laugh, amused at the boy’s sudden demanding nature,
then slowly stood to his full, nude height.
 
The blush returned with vigor, and Charles averted his eyes with an incredulous
squeak.
 
Another barked laugh and then the man walked away, his footsteps telling
Charles he was headed down the hallway, into gore caked bedroom.
 
There were ruffling sounds for a moment, then the footsteps returned and the
man was covered by his step brother’s clothes, the black turtleneck and
trousers fitting him like a puzzle piece.
 
He was ridiculously attractive.
Charles suddenly realized it was no longer fear he was feeling, but a low
insistent buzz of arousal.
 
His body went cold with disbelieving guilt, unable to comprehend that he could
ever feel something as shameful as  arousal  towards something so  inhuman .
Charles drew in on himself as best he could with his injury and tried to ignore
the way he was feeling.
 
It was becoming hot in his place so close to the fire, sweat matting his hair
to his face and causing his clothes to skin to his skin. His coat was too heavy
to be wearing indoors.
 
“Your coat is too heavy to be wearing indoors.”
 
Charles jumped as the man spoke, his voice still the same gravelly rumble that
sang to him earlier, seemingly having read his mind.
 
The man went on as if he hadn’t noticed, or was choosing to ignore, the way the
boy frightened at his voice.
 
“You need to remove it, before you burn up entirely. We wouldn’t want that now,
would we?”
 
There was an accent Charles couldn’t identify buried deep in the roughness of
the man’s voice.
 
He briefly wondered where he hailed from.
 
When the man realized his words were falling on deaf ears, he heaved a heavy
sigh and gently slid off the chair, careful not to move too fast and startle
the boy curled up in front of him.
 
He put a large hand on one of Charles’ shoulders, just to establish contact.
 
The boy shook slightly, but remained still, sky blue eyes staring up at him in
fearful wonder.
 
Slowly, another hand on his other shoulder, a thumb rubbing gentling circles
into the red fabric of the boy’s coat.
 
A few more circles and then the hands slid down the boy’s arms, stopping to
cradle those smaller ones in his.
 
The man took notice of how soft the boy’s skin was, pale like his beloved moon.
 
It’s what attracted the beast to the boy in the first place.
 
Charles was no longer shaking, just staring at the man, his reddened mouth
slightly opened, his eyes wide with awe.
Gently, so very gently, the man pried the boy’s arms from around his legs.
 
They fell limply at Charles’ sides, but still the boy made no move to remove
his coat himself.
 
The beast didn’t mind.
 
He enjoyed taking care of what was his.
 
The man reached out to untie the thick cotton strap tied around the boy’s slim
torso, then he stopped, waiting to see if the boy would voice a protest.
 
None came.
 
The boy’s gaze had shifted from frightened awe to one of confused and unsure
arousal, the blue in his eyes swallowed whole by pitch black.
 
Now the beast knew the reason for the boy’s stillness.
 
The predator felt a slow smile break across his face, exposing his teeth. Even
in his human form, he’s been told that they are quite unsettling.  
 
The boy gasped sharply, and the beast pounced.
 
Charles was knocked to the floor, his pained cry swallowed up by the man when
their lips crashed together. His hands shot up to grip tightly onto the beast’s
shoulders, nails digging in to the cotton of his turtleneck.
 
Charles has never been kissed before, and he wonders if he should tell the man
that, but then a wet tongue is licking over his lip, begging him for entry and
the thought flees the boy’s mind.
 
He parts his lips and lets the beast plunder his mouth, tongue meeting his and
Charles tries to keep up, but he’s sure his inexperience shows.
 
The beast doesn’t seem to mind, sucking on Charles’ tongue with an eagerness
that makes boiling heat pool in his groin, his cock starting to fill in the
confines of his trousers.
 
Charles whines low in his throat, his hips thrusting up for something,
anything , and the man gives it to him, thrusting down to meet the boy halfway,
the delicious friction sending off sparks behind his eyelids.
 
The man makes a noise like he’s dying then suddenly pulls away, leaving Charles
panting and aching on the ornate rug spread across the hardwood floor.
 
At first, the boy thinks he’s done something wrong, but then large hands are
pulling him up and reaching for the buttons on his coat, quick fingers working
the buttons and stripping the garment off his shoulders.
 
The man doesn’t even get it off Charles’ arms completely before he’s on him
again, pulling the smaller body into his lap and licking the sweat off his pale
throat, biting into the soft skin.
 
His boy tastes so sweet.
 
The beast growls deep in his throat, and the boy to lets out a low moan and
quakes in his arms, small trembling hands reaching up to grip his hair as if to
keep him in place.
 
Charles starts rocking in the man’s lap, groaning at the sickly sweet pleasure
the friction causes, his cock painfully hard and leaking stickily into his
trousers. The man sucks bruises into this throat, and the boy knows he’ll have
to explain them to his step father later, but he cannot bring himself to care.
 
There’s a low, steady purr rumbling continuously out of the beast’s chest that
vibrates through Charles’ chest and it makes his head swim, his pulse beating
erratically under his skin.
 
Charles thinks he might burst from it all.
 
A sudden thought appears in the boy’s mind and he tugs the man away from his no
doubt purpling throat.
 
“Wh-what’s your name?” Charles pants out.
 
 A rumble that might be a laugh comes from the beasts chest.
 
“Erik.”
 
“Oh. I’m Charles.”
 
“I know, sweet boy, I know.”
 
With that, Charles surges forward, pressing his lips Erik’s, not thinking about
how the beast already knows his name when he had not been told it. Erik groans
and grips the boy brusingly by the hips, moving him so he grinds harder into
Erik’s lap.
 
Both of them moan into each other’s mouths at the feel of it, and Erik thinks
they’re wearing too many clothes.
 
Erik pulls away reluctantly to strip the boy of his beloved coat, growling in
frustration at the cardigan and button up underneath it. His boy wears so many
layers, but Erik makes quick work of them all and soon Charles sits bare
chested in his lap, pale skin glowing with sweat and pink nipples hardened with
arousal.
 
Briefly, the beast wonders if this is the boy’s first time.
 
Deciding it doesn’t matter, he’ll be sweet to his boy, Erik gently tips Charles
to the floor again, hoping the rug will be kind to his bare skin.
 
Charles whines when Erik uses his weight to press him into the rug, the fabric
soft against his skin, his noises swallowed up by the beast as their mouths
meet frantically once more.
 
The beast kisses like he’s trying to devour him, and Charles almost can’t stand
it, his body too hot and mind going pleasantly blurry, content to lie there and
let the beast eat him whole.
 
Erik breaks away from Charles’ impossibly red and swollen mouth to suck sharp
kisses down his chest, stopping to take a hardened nipple in his mouth and
growling at the noises his boy makes when he does.
 
Charles is a dessert too pretty to eat and it drives the beast mad.
 
The wolf inside Erik claws to get to the surface, to touch and taste the boy as
Erik does, whining as he is shoved down deep.
 
It would do no good to lose control here.
 
Erik gives the boy’s nipple one final lick before he continues down his chest,
biting at the softness of Charles’ belly before he pulls his trousers open with
his teeth, smirking at the quiet curse the boy makes.
 
The wolf likes show off, and Erik would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it
too.
 
Charles is close to begging by the time Erik tears open his trousers, actually
sobbing when he finally wraps a large hand around his weeping cock, tears
falling from his eyes down into his hair.
 
Charles has touched himself before, but it’s nothing compared to how incredibly
good  it feels when Erik touches him, and the boy swears he’s going to shake
apart.
 
Erik’s hand is warm on him, the stroke and twist of it making his toes curl and
his cock leak steadily onto the man’s fingers, the wet sounds pulling a
flustered whine from his throat, his hands coming up to cover his face.
 
It doesn’t take long for the world to shatter apart around Charles, lights
going off behind his eyes, a near scream filling the empty spaces in the
sitting room.
 
The beast strokes him through it, and keeps stroking still when Charles becomes
sensitive, not letting up in speed or grip. The boy takes it, laying limp in
front of the smoldering fire, sounds he is unaware of making pouring from his
lips.
 
His whole body trembles, and Erik relishes every sound, every quiver of the boy
completely at his mercy beneath him.
 
The wolf within howls with delight.
 
Erik’s insistent stroking soon makes Charles hard again. He releases his grip
then, bringing his soiled hand up to the boy’s sinful mouth for him to clean.
 
Charles does this with an eagerness that makes the beast’s cock twitch in his
trousers, pink tongue coming out to lick himself off his fingers, sucking them
into his mouth.
 
A low and steady growl works its way out of Erik’s chest at the sight.
 
Once his hand is clean Erik pulls away to press a bruising kiss to Charles’
lips, tasting the boy for himself, before he unlaces his forgotten boot and
strips him of his trousers completely. Now Charles lies naked before him,
uncomprehendingly beautiful and his for the taking.
 
And the beast intends to  take .
 
Charles watches from his place on the floor as Erik undoes his trousers and
pulls out his cock.
 
Despite his best efforts to avert his gaze upon first seeing the beast naked,
Charles caught just a  glimpse  of his well endowed friend.
 
Seeing it now makes him ache for something he doesn’t know of.
 
Charles is sure he’s about to figure out what it is.
 
If Erik notices Charles staring, he doesn’t say anything, he simply leans
forward and drowns the boy in another kiss. This one is more gentle than all
the others, and Charles brings his hands up to softly cradle the man’s face.
 
Erik pulls away after a moment, bringing a hand to Charles’ lips once more.
 
The boy doesn’t hesitate in pulling those fingers into his mouth, warm tongue
lapping at them like a cat licking up cream to get them dripping wet, moans
falling around the thick digits.
 
Once Erik deems them drenched enough, he nudges the boy’s thighs apart,
shivering at the sight the boy makes when he spreads his legs wide enough for
the beast to sit between.
 
He brings his fingers down to Charles’ hole, spreading the wet around and
rubbing the pads of his fingers roughly against the opening, the boy whining
and twisting like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
 
He most likely doesn’t, Erik thinks to himself.
 
It takes a moment, but soon Charles loosens enough for Erik to push a finger
inside, not stopping until it’s all the way in.
 
Charles  wails .
 
The intrusion burns, but it isn’t overtly painful, just persistent and
inescapable. It makes his toes curl on the rug and his eyes roll back into his
head. It makes him clench around Erik’s finger, a litany of sobs fall from his
lips.
 
He feels like he’ll burst, but then the beast starts  talking .
 
“God, Charles, you’re doing so for me, you’re so good. You respond so
beautifully to my touch, it’s like you’ve been waiting for it, not too long now
sweet boy, you’re almost there. I just need you to relax a little for me, can
you do that, Charles? I know you can, you’re such a good boy, it’s almost a
shame to corrupt you like I am. My wolf has been howling for you since I first
saw you, I can’t believe you’re mine now.”
 
Charles gets so lost in his beasts words that he doesn’t feel the second finger
slide into him, or the third, until he’s suddenly realizing how very  full  he
is, stretched and clenching around Erik’s fingers.
 
His second orgasm is almost an afterthought.
 
It burns through his body so quickly that it leaves the boy breathless, pliant
and loose.
 
Erik pumped his fingers a few more times before deeming Charles ready enough.
He leans forward to kiss his boy and wipes his hand through the mess on
Charles’ stomach, lines himself up, and slowly but steadily pushes inside.
 
Charles cries out into Erik’s mouth, hands flying up to clench Erik’s still
clothed shoulders as he’s split open by his beast, overly sensitive and
becoming impossibly more full with every inch that fills him.
 
By the time his hips are flush against Charles, Erik thinks he’s going to
combust. His boy is so hot inside, and impossibly tight around him. So much so
that the beast has to focus all he is on where their mouths are joined together
to keep himself from spilling into Charles.
 
There is a pause that’s filled with heavy breaths and wet smacks, and then Erik
starts to move.
 
He goes slow at first, thrusting gently into the wide eyed boy below him and
letting him get used to the feeling of something inside of him, before he’s
sure he isn’t going to shatter apart.
 
Then he sets a punishing pace.
 
Erik slams into Charles almost violently, rocking his smaller body roughly
against the rug he’s laid on, burns no doubt already forming on his pale skin.
 
Charles can’t feel those burns, though, all he can feel is his beast.
 
His beast cages him in, swallowing every whimper and whine that’s thrust out of
him, hips meeting his with such force that he’s sure he’s going to be sore for
days,  thick cock hitting something deep inside of him that sets him  ablaze .
 
Charles felt like he could die, but he didn’t want to stop, not ever. He would
die a thousand deaths if it meant he got to feel like this for even a moment.
 
Simmering heat pools into his stomach and Charles knows he’s close.
 
They’re not even kissing anymore, just panting into each other’s mouth, feeling
every sound the other makes, their foreheads pressed together.
 
Charles makes a sound like he’s been shot and comes, orgasm ripping through him
near painfully, painting their chests sticky and squeezing down on his beast
like he’s trying to pull his orgasm from him.
 
With one final thrust, Erik spills into Charles, a howl forcing its way out of
his throat and into the small space of the sitting room.
 
The beast is sure he blacks out, but quickly comes to to see his boy laying
below him, eyes lidded and lips swollen.
 
He’s beautiful.
 
For a long moment, they just breathe together.
 
Charles feels like he’s lost his soul, body floating listlessly between the
floor and his beast. He’s never felt so wonderful in his life, and he hopes
with all that he is that his beast doesn’t tire of him so soon.
 
He remembers the man’s guttural words from earlier, and the fear of being
forgotten dissipates.
 
Erik shifts above him, lifting his body off the smaller boy so he can clean
them both up.
 
It takes a moment to find all their clothing, and Erik sacrifices the one good
shirt he found in that corpse’s closet to wipe the bodily fluids from their
chests.
 
When they’re both fully dressed, Erik minus a shirt for now, Charles crawls
into the man’s lap aching to be held. Erik easily obliges his boy, gathering
him up in his arms and holding him posessively to his chest.
 
He meant it when he Charles was his.
 
Neither of them speak for a long while, content to simply hold and be held, but
in the end it’s Charles who breaks the silence first.
 
“Why did kill him?”
 
The question in whispered into Erik’s chest. They both know that the boy asked
earlier and they both know he never got an answer.
 
There’s a moment where Charles thinks he’ll be denied a second time, but then
Erik speaks in his distant and rumbling voice.
 
“He was horrid towards you, and I could not stand to watch it anymore.”
 
This prompts another question.
 
“What about my step father? Do you intend to kill him too, or shall I find his
remains when I return home?”
 
A pause.
 
“The thought has crossed my mind, but once I realized he was your only source
of income, I put the thought aside. If you were to ask me not to, I would
listen, but the moment you step into the world by yourself is the moment I’ll
come for him.”   
Charles thought on his beast’s words for a long moment. He wouldn't wish a
death that terrible on the man, but the boy would be lying if he said he didn’t
despise him with all he was.
 
“I don’t want you to kill him...but I don’t want him around anymore. I want him
gone, as far away from me as possible.”
 
The beast hummed, a low noise that caressed Charles’ chest.
 
“Then so be it, sweet boy.”
 
Instead of walking another four hours, Charles got a ride on the back of a
great, black wolf, its fur soft against his face as he nestled against his
beast.
 
When Charles arrived home, he was to be the free boy he always dreamed of
being. Free to wonder where he wanted, and do what he wanted whenever he
wanted, without the fear of being beaten or shouted at.
 
When Charles arrived home, he would no longer be alone.
 
He’d be in the company of someone who wanted him, and perhaps even love him.
 
His beloved beast.
 
For the first time in a long time, happiness bloomed like a rose in his chest,
and Charles started to sing.
 
“If you go down to the woods today…”


End Notes
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