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Cradle of the Moon

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Arrell’s house was beautiful in the morning. The sun streamed in through the sheers covering the windows, washing a diffused light over the dark woods and jewel-toned fabrics the man favored. Alyosha soaked in that light as he gathered his things. 

“It was wonderful seeing you, my dear,” he said.

Alyosha always felt mixed about mornings like those. He felt sleepy and relaxed after spending an evening with Arrell, and didn't feel the need to rush out the door. However, he did still have to leave, which made the moments bittersweet.

“It was.” Arrell approached Alyosha from behind, sliding his arms around Alyosha’s waist.

Alyosha turned around to kiss him, soft and slow. “When shall we get together again?” he asked. “I will have a holiday at the end of the week— perhaps I could stay the night again?”

Arrell looked away. “I cannot,” he said.

“Ah, yes, the full moon,” Alyosha replied, remembering.

“Yes.”

Arrell was prudent to be close-lipped about being a werewolf, Alyosha knew, but at times it felt like he was being more than cautious. Sometimes, it felt like the man wanted as much distance from that part of himself as possible. He disliked speaking of it lightly around Alyosha. He disliked speaking of it at all. Even when Alyosha knew about his condition, he still only said he would be “indisposed” around the full moon. It was only because of a misunderstanding on what day Alyosha would visit— months ago by then— that Alyosha had discovered that Arrell spent the nights of his transformation chained up in his cellar, alone.

“I don’t see why I can't keep you company,” Alyosha pressed.

Arrell’s face hardened. “It’s dangerous,” he said. “And there’s no point in it.”

“You’re chained to the wall, Tutor,” Alyosha replied. “Not even animals are overly fond of that, and you’re not just an animal.” Alyosha tried catch Arrell’s eye. He hadn’t looked up since they started the conversation. “You spoke to me perfectly fine, that time.”

“That time was a mistake,” Arrell snapped. “I’d rather you didn’t know this at all!”

Alyosha felt a flash of anger. “Would you really?”

Arrell was silent for a long moment, then said, quietly, “There’s no point in it.”

Alyosha didn’t pursue the topic after that, knowing that Arrell would refuse to accept his point. He soothed both their hackles, and left with a kiss. Then, when he was walking down the street back to the church, a thought occurred to him.

A few days later, he was opening Arrell’s cellar door, candlestick in hand.

It was, if Alyosha thought about it too hard, a bit outside his moral bounds. He didn’t have Arrell’s permission to go see him. However, Alyosha felt compelled. He needed Arrell to see himself as more than a monster, and he didn’t know any other way to do it.

Arrell was a man of fair height, but it was nothing compared to the hulking figure hunched at the far end of the cellar. His arms were up, clasped by silver manacles that attached to the wall with silver chains. His head hung low, almost morose, and it was only by the glint of the candlelight in one eye that Alyosha was able to tell that he was looking at him.

“I thought I told you not to come here,” said the werewolf, the growl deep in his throat.

“I wanted to see you,” Alyosha said.

“There is nothing to see.”

“I disagree.”

Arrell bared his teeth. “Then you have come to gawk at my unnatural form? Be careful, my legs are yet unbound, and I have claws.” 

“Tutor…”

Arrell stopped and looked away, sullen.

After a moment, Alyosha took another careful step forward. “I don’t think you would hurt me unless you were truly scared. Are you afraid, Tutor?”

After a long silence, Arrell answered in a low rasp. “No…” he said. “Of you? No.”

Alyosha stepped closer still, putting himself inside Arrell’s reach. “I feel like this form makes it difficult to hold back what you feel, and that lack of control feels dangerous to you,” he said. “It makes you feel like an animal, even though you are still yourself.”

Arrell said nothing.

Alyosha reached out, stroking Arrell’s muzzle. He could feel the werewolf’s lip twitch, perhaps in irritation, perhaps something else, but he did nothing otherwise.

“It’s alright to feel, Tutor,” Alyosha said softly.

He stroked the fur of Arrell’s cheek, down his neck to his chest. Another thing occurred to him, and he smiled.

“Let me touch you,” he said. “It can be like one of our games. All you have to do is feel.”

Alyosha looked and saw that Arrell was watching him warily.

“May I touch you?” he asked more directly.

Arrell looked away, but then Alyosha saw an almost imperceptible nod.

“Yes?” Alyosha pressed.

A pause. 

“...Yes,” Arrell said aloud.

Alyosha smiled wider.

He spent a while simply stroking Arrell’s fur. He smoothed his hands over the were’s chest and stomach, then his arms and hands, then hips, legs, and feet. Then, Alyosha reached up to Arrell’s muzzle and begin again, top to bottom, over and over. Arrell unravelled slowly, the tension leaving his slumped form. By the time Alyosha reached his cock, the head was peeking from its sheath, and it took little for Alyosha to encourage the rest of it out.

Alyosha continued to stroke Arrell’s fur as he worked, watching pleasure flicker across his lover’s face.

“Alyosha…” Arrell rasped.

“It’s alright, my dear,” Alyosha said softly. “See, you haven’t hurt me at all. I’d love to stay with you. I could read to you, keep you company, and we could sleep together in the morning. Perhaps, tomorrow night, I could even ride you like this.”

Arrell’s eyes went wide at that.

Alyosha smiled, working his hand faster while Arrell squirmed. “I mean it. I want to feel you inside me, to bury my face in your chest as I move on top of you…” Alyosha shifted the way he was sitting, feeling the urge to touch himself as he imagined the scene. “I want to feel overwhelmed by your size, encompassed by you, stretched open by you…”

Arrell made a sound deep in his chest, the nails on his feet scratching the floor. Alyosha marvelled at how the base of his cock swelled, just a little, before he came with a cry.

When Arrell’s breathing had slowed, Alyosha leaned up and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“How was that?” he asked.

Arrell huffed and said nothing, but Alyosha thought that he saw the hint of a smile.

 

Alyosha stayed after, as he said he would, and when the moon set and the sun rose, Arrell shrank and became human once again. Alyosha brought him a dressing gown so he wouldn’t have to just put on his previous day’s clothes, and the two of them went up together to Arrell’s bed and slept. They had a companionable afternoon after waking, and when the sun began to set, they went together back down to the cellar.

Watching Arrell stand there, the silver manacles hanging loosely around his wrists, Alyosha wondered if one day he could persuade him to cast them aside.

“I would ask you not to watch if I thought you would listen,” Arrell said to Alyosha, and he sounded almost affectionate. “Your curiosity does often get the better of you, though, does it not?”

Alyosha smiled. “That it does, though I do not wish to strip you of all your comforts, should you wish to keep them.”

Arrell shrugged, the offer rolling off his back. “I doubt I should even notice you looking.”

Not a moment after, he grimaced suddenly. “Ah, not a moment too soon,” he said.

Arrell fell silent after that, but even as he did, his own body seemed to rise and speak. The creaks and groans as he shifted sounded like a cacophony of voices, and Alyosha found that he was as fascinated as he was horrified. Arrell let out a cry of pain, and Alyosha had to sit on his hands to keep from trying to reach out to aid him. He watched as Arrell suddenly began to grow, upwards and outwards, his face lengthening into a muzzle, his nails into claws, his shallow chest deepening and becoming barrel-like. Fur sprouted across his body, fur that Alyosha knew would fall out upon Arrell’s return to human form, littering the cellar floor.

After several minutes, the were’s form seemed to settle. His body ceased his creaking, and Alyosha could hear his breathing in the new quiet as he collected himself.

“Is… is it done?” Alyosha asked.

“For the most part,” Arrell sighed in his new, deeper voice, settling himself on the floor. He moved his arm, and his shoulder gave a sickening pop.

Alyosha considered him for a moment, but decided not to go to him immediately, instead picking up a book from the selection they had brought with them. It would not do to hurt Arrell accidentally, Alyosha thought, sitting and paging through the book to where they had left off.

Arrell cleared his throat.

Blinking, Alyosha looked up to see the were watching him. “Yes, Tutor?” he asked.

Arrell gave Alyosha a significant look. “You have been wanting to jump into my lap from the moment we got down here,” he said, matter-of-factly.

Alyosha felt the prickle of blood rush to his face. “Er… yes.”

Arrell lowered his head, still looking at Alyosha with his golden eyes. “Then come here,” he said in a low rasp.

Alyosha didn’t need to be told twice. He got up, went over to where Arrell was chained, put his arms around the were’s neck, and kissed him with all the wanting that built in him. Arrell rumbled deep in his chest, the chains clinking from his aborted attempt to reach out and touch. He couldn’t return Alyosha’s kisses, either, lacking the mouth to do so, and the second sound he made held a note of frustration.

“It’s alright, my dear,” Alyosha said, a little out of breath. “It’s like before— all you have to do is feel.”

Arrell dipped his head submissively, even as he let out an annoyed huff, and it made Alyosha laugh.

“I know you love our games. I’m sure you will be alright,” he said sweetly, raking his fingers through the fur on Arrell’s chest. “If not, you know you only need say the word and I’ll stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” Arrell growled, and shifted his hips so the growing bulge of his sheath rubbed up against Alyosha.

Alyosha laughed and kissed Arrell again. “Then I shall not,” he promised.

He took a moment to shrug out of his robes before pressing back up against Arrell, delighting in the feeling of his fur on his skin. He moved his hips, grinding against Arrell’s sheath. He found that his mouth had less use without bare skin to kiss or bite, so he took the fur at the nape of Arrell’s neck in his hands and pulled. Arrell whined and squirmed obligingly. Alyosha smiled and tugged again. He rutted against the were eagerly, his mind clouded with lust, and nearly exhausted himself in the process.

“My enthusiasm betrays me! I may need a rest,” he panted.

Arrell acquiesced, though he shifted his hips impatiently. Alyosha was hard and sensitive, and the rub of Arrell’s cock against his pulled a sound from him. Then, it gave him another idea.

“Now that’s a thought!” he said. “Would you like to lead, my dear?”

Arrell grinned a wolfish grin, and Alyosha fetched the oil.

The feeling of Arrell’s cock as it breached him was everything Alyosha had hoped for.

“Slowly now…” he breathed. “Oh, love, you’re amazing…”

Arrell moved in slow, short thrusts while Alyosha hung onto him, letting out small sounds each time he sunk in a little deeper. Alyosha did not expect to take the whole of him, but he realized through the fog of his arousal that his body was somehow able to accomodate the depths of his desire. Arrell thrust up, Alyosha shifted his hips, and then Arrell was in to the hilt. Alyosha moaned and Arrell growled, shivering with desire.

“Oh, yes, Tutor, take me—” Alyosha gasped.

Arrell gripped his chains, braced his feet on the ground and began to fuck Alyosha in earnest. It was all Alyosha could do to cling to him, muffling his wanton cries in Arrell’s chest. He felt overwhelmed, surrounded inside and out, and it seemed to take almost no time at all for his orgasm to come crashing over him like a tide of flame.

That affected Arrell in turn, and he curled in on himself in mounting pleasure, sounds bubbling up from deep in his chest. Alyosha was startled by the pressure at his entrance as the base of Arrell’s cock began to swell. He had almost forgotten it, and he cried out as Arrell lodged himself inside him, swelling further still. Arrell howled and scratched at the floor, and Alyosha could feel the pulsing of his cock as he came. Alyosha reached for his own arousal, shifting his hips to feel the stretch of the knot caught inside his body, and he came a second time that way. He collapsed against Arrell after, trembling with exhaustion and pleasure both, Arrell still twitching with aftershocks.

They lay joined together for a time, still catching their breath. Eventually, Arrell’s swelling abated, and he slipped wetly from Alyosha’s body.

“It is fortunate that my cycle ceased long ago,” Alyosha said. “That would have made pulling out quite difficult.”

Arrell made a face.

Alyosha laughed, unable to help himself. He was more than a little bit stiff and wobbly, he still managed to fetch the cloth and water he had brought down for the occasion and use it to clean himself and Arrell.

“My fur is wet,” Arrell complained.

“So you would prefer that I left you as you were?” Alyosha asked, and Arrell sighed dramatically.

He was still damp even after Alyosha’s best efforts, but Alyosha still sat back down in Arrell’s lap when he was done. He sunk into the were’s embrace with a happy sigh.

“I take it you are pleased,” Arrell said, sounding amused.

“Very,” Alyosha said, “And you?”

“I believe you may have tamed the beast,” Arrell replied.

Alyosha laughed.