03-25-2017, 03:15 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-07-2017, 12:37 PM by DarkAurion98.)
(Hope you like this one)
The self-loathing furry guy looks at the T.V without really watching Iron Man fighting against Captain America on the screen. His skin feels sensitive, like being constanly shaved by an old razor. A pulse disturbs his ears whenever a trolley uses his bell blocks away or a random guy yells on the street below. He's sweating, growing uncomfortable with the way his pack ignores it. Gerard knows Vicky does it to ignore the fact Larry might be a lost cause in love. Anthony in the other hand... well, is a different scenario. The beta actually looks sad, somehow feeling a link with his co-worker. Wolf brothers you could say. He enjoys the feeling of his alpha's sweat but dreads what is causing it, hiding his head under G's chin.
The three of them get closer, scent marking each other without catching the end of the movie. Afternoon replaces morning, and the constant anxiety finds minimal relief when the alpha drives to the studio, crossing fingers to not bump into Larry for some reason. Using his key, he opens the mess of an office. Seeing how his crush tried to clean it makes him feel sick and guilty, but there's not point on it now. Gerard paces around the room, hiding his trembling hands on the pockets of his jacket.
He remembers every direct hit, every growl thrown at his human rival. However, what he remembers the most is the omega's furious face, all because him. Shaky fingers dare to touch his soon ex co-worker's remaining designs, admiring their clever technique and awesome colors. Stop crying for something that never happened. His mind kept saying.
Muffling a howl, he started by taking out the thrash and organazing a bit better the few furniture on the room. Next he realized how beaten L's desk was. Forget the show-off moments of supernatural-romantic dramas. Gerard took off his shirt and jacket for a good reason. He shifted into his lycan form, muscles growing and flexing plus body temperature increasing. The shirt he was wearing would be torn to pieces right now, simple truth.
With relative ease the wolf took the desk out of the room, leaving it on the storage room and replacing it by a slight smaller one, yet new and fresh-delivered.
...
The drive home was hard, again.
------------------------------------------
Needless to say, there isn't boners anymore, or wet dreams, or mating musk lingering on the air. Only an empty husk of an alpha getting in his 90's japanese tuner, heading to work the morning after.
The self-loathing furry guy looks at the T.V without really watching Iron Man fighting against Captain America on the screen. His skin feels sensitive, like being constanly shaved by an old razor. A pulse disturbs his ears whenever a trolley uses his bell blocks away or a random guy yells on the street below. He's sweating, growing uncomfortable with the way his pack ignores it. Gerard knows Vicky does it to ignore the fact Larry might be a lost cause in love. Anthony in the other hand... well, is a different scenario. The beta actually looks sad, somehow feeling a link with his co-worker. Wolf brothers you could say. He enjoys the feeling of his alpha's sweat but dreads what is causing it, hiding his head under G's chin.
The three of them get closer, scent marking each other without catching the end of the movie. Afternoon replaces morning, and the constant anxiety finds minimal relief when the alpha drives to the studio, crossing fingers to not bump into Larry for some reason. Using his key, he opens the mess of an office. Seeing how his crush tried to clean it makes him feel sick and guilty, but there's not point on it now. Gerard paces around the room, hiding his trembling hands on the pockets of his jacket.
He remembers every direct hit, every growl thrown at his human rival. However, what he remembers the most is the omega's furious face, all because him. Shaky fingers dare to touch his soon ex co-worker's remaining designs, admiring their clever technique and awesome colors. Stop crying for something that never happened. His mind kept saying.
Muffling a howl, he started by taking out the thrash and organazing a bit better the few furniture on the room. Next he realized how beaten L's desk was. Forget the show-off moments of supernatural-romantic dramas. Gerard took off his shirt and jacket for a good reason. He shifted into his lycan form, muscles growing and flexing plus body temperature increasing. The shirt he was wearing would be torn to pieces right now, simple truth.
With relative ease the wolf took the desk out of the room, leaving it on the storage room and replacing it by a slight smaller one, yet new and fresh-delivered.
...
The drive home was hard, again.
------------------------------------------
Needless to say, there isn't boners anymore, or wet dreams, or mating musk lingering on the air. Only an empty husk of an alpha getting in his 90's japanese tuner, heading to work the morning after.