đ§ââď¸ Lean's POV - "The Morning After the Fireworks"
I wake up to a chest that's breathing.
And it's not mine.
Oh no.
Oh hell yes.
Oh Dom's pecs, yes.
The wolf's chest rises and falls beneath my face, warm and solid like one of those weighted blankets, except hairier and occasionally growling like a diesel truck from 90's. I blink, confused, disoriented, and absolutely swaddled in his jacket, definitely drooling like a broken faucet on his chest. The world smells like pine, smoke, and faint vanilla frosting. There's a cupcake wrapper stuck to my hair, and whipped cream on my face. And my undead ass is comfortable.
...This must be Heaven.
Wait. I can't go to Heaven.
"Don't move, Five more minutes," a sleepy growl vibrates under my cheek. His voice.
Dear Satan, his voice.
"Puppers?" I whisper, like a man calling out to a deity who might smite him with affection.
He hums, low and rough, pulling me closer without even opening his eyes. "Don't. Move I said you dumb bat."
Cue me freezing like a statue in a werewolf cuddle trap. My inner dramatic self is screaming, but my undead heart? Doing jazz hands.
I stay still. My head rests right where his heartbeat should be dead quiet - but it isn't. It's steady. Real. Rhythmic. And I realize something horrifying.
I could get used to this.
The fire from last night's chaos has gone down to a soft glow. The world outside the cabin's window is painted gold - dawn spilling like honey over the snow, catching on the fairy lights Dom hung up last night. It's beautiful. Like... too beautiful for a guy who once threatened to spray me with mosquito repellent for breathing too close, and hang me by my fangs in the ice.
He shifts slightly, hair a messy halo, fangs (I mean teeth) showing in a sleepy snarl.
I can't help it. I poke his cheek.
"Don't," he mutters, eyes still closed.
I poke again. "Morning, sunshine."
He grunts. "I will bite."
"Romantically?"
"Hard."
"Promises, promises," I purr, and immediately his golden eyes crack open, glaring at me with pure "why are you like this" energy. Devils, he's gorgeous even when murderous.
He sits up, stretching - shirt rumpled, hair a disaster grass and leaves stuck in it, tail flicking lazily behind him, ears flopped down. The sunlight spills across his face and I swear he looks like the hero of every tragic novel ever written. Meanwhile, I'm sitting there like a gremlin burrito clutching an empty wine bottle.
"You drank all that?" he asks, eyebrow raised.
"I don't recall," I lie confidently.
He sighs, that soft exasperated one that says he's this close to throwing me into the snow but secretly finds me adorable. Then he stands, ruffling his hair, and mumbles, "Stay put. I'll make breakfast, then we will pack up."
Breakfast.
Puppers Cooking.
This is insanely docile for a wolf in the jungle.
I sit there, smiling stupidly as I listen to him move around the little kitchenette, the clink of pans and muttered curses filling the air. The smell of something burning follows.
Ah, home.
I wander in, just to "help" (translation: sabotage). He's trying to flip pancakes, and I swear one flies past his head like a UFO. He gives me that look - the one between rage and resignation.
"Vamps, sit down, I hate this kitchen everythings so small as your ass!"
"But-"
"Sit."
"But-"
"Lean."
"Fine! I'll sit, Daddy Chill."
His tail flicks so fast I think I just broke him. I hide my grin behind a mug.
He pours me coffee (which I do not drink, obviously why? I am still suspicious he is gonna sedate me to trafficking) and just watches me with that tired fondness that makes my chest ache. Then he leans against the counter, staring out the window. The morning light hits his face - and suddenly, he looks older, gentler. Softer.
Quiet.
"Puppers?" I say softly, stepping beside him. "You okay?"
He hums. "Yeah. Just thinking."
"About?"
He shrugs. "About how long it's been since I felt... this." His hand gestures vaguely - to the worn out campfire, the forest, me. "Calm. Not like the world's waiting to bite back."
My heart stutters. I reach up and fix his collar, because it gives me an excuse to touch him. "Guess the world took a break for the New Year."
He gives a small smile. "Guess it did."
We eat - well, I nibble a pancake and mostly gossip about how Ray would've burned the forest down if he cooked, and how he saved and latched Dom up with many college girls, even the principa's daughter damn. Dom snorts mid-bite, looking alive in a way that makes my undead soul jealous.
After we're done, he starts packing the leftover stuff. The bouquet of blue and yellow roses goes carefully into the bag - still fresh somehow, like the night refused to fade. He folds my borrowed blanket, tosses me my boots, and says, "Let's go before the cab driver quits life."
The walk down the hill is peaceful - our breaths forming clouds, the crunch of snow underfoot, and occasional moments where I pretend to slip just so he'll catch me. He grumbles but never lets me fall. Not once.
When we reach the car, it's the same driver.
Poor guy looks like he's seen things.
He nearly screams when he sees us.
"Oh Holy Lord You Two AGAINNNNNN.....
Please don't bite each other in my cab again!" he pleads.
Dom sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We never-"
"You almost did, and Sir are you still being trafficked?" the driver interrupts.
I gasp. "He's right! You almost did! Witness confirmed! And nah! My TRAFFICKER adoped me, heh" Poor guy is going thought 50 shades of GAY!
Dom groans and shoves me in the car before I can say more. The driver mutters prayers under his breath the entire ride back.
The road winds down the mountain, sunlight filtering through the trees, painting Dom's face gold and soft. I sneak a glance at him - his eyes half-closed, one hand resting on his knee, the other lazily on mine. Not tight, not possessive - just there.
And that's enough.
I lean my head on his shoulder. "You know, Puppers..."
"Hm?"
"If all my kidnappings end like this..." I grin, "I wouldn't mind being abducted again."
He cracks a half-smile. "Next time, I'm charging you cab fare."
I laugh, pressing closer. "Fine, but I'm paying in kisses."
He goes still. Then that small, tiny smirk returns. "That's a non-refundable currency, Vamps."
"Good," I whisper. "Then you can't return me."
"PLEASE SIR I BEG YOU!! DON'T BOOK MY CAB!!!" the driver sweats, as he laugh off.
We sit there as the cab bumps along the road - the forest fading, the sun climbing, the world beginning again. He smells like smoke and pine and faint wine, and I swear, for one blissful moment, I feel alive.
Not undead. Not cursed. Just alive.
The driver drops us off and speeds away like his life depends on it (fair). I grab my bag, turn to Dom, and grin.
"So, again tomorrow?"
He raises an eyebrow. "You mean chaos again tomorrow?"
I wink. "Same thing."
He rolls his eyes, but that faint smile tugs at his lips again - the one that always sneaks out when he forgets to hide it. And as we walk back home, side by side, I know one thing for sure:
Maybe love's not something we define.
Maybe it's just what survives the night.
Wait my my phone is Buzzing like I smell chaos.
đş Dominic's POV - "The Wolf Who Woke Up in Peace"
I wake up to weight.
Soft, heavy, cold weight.
And drool. Definitely drool.
There's a cold patch on my chest, and when I glance down, I see the culprit-blond hair, eyeliner smudged, half a cupcake stuck in it, and that ridiculous pout even in sleep. Lean. Dead asleep. Clinging to me like I'm the last branch before the abyss, I can't get mad.
The sunlight sneaks through the leafs and hits his face, making his pale skin glow gold. It's... unfair. Everything about him is unfair. The noise, the drama, the way he worms into my arms like he owns them-and somehow, I don't even fight it anymore.
I should move him.
I should get up.
I don't.
"Don't move," I mutter, half-asleep. My voice comes out rougher than intended. "Five more minutes." As he wiggles like a worm coming out after winter.
He freezes, like I just threatened him with marriage. Then he whispers, "Puppers?"
I grunt. "Don't. Move, I said, you dumb bat."
And for the first time in a while, the world feels... quiet. Not empty quiet. Just-safe. His body's cold against mine, but it doesn't bother me. It's kind of grounding. Like my wild heart finally found something steady enough to rest against.
When I finally open my eyes, he's looking up at me like a puppy caught raiding the fridge. Big eyes, guilty smile, pure mischief. I sigh. "Morning."
He pokes my cheek.
Twice.
"I will bite," I warn.
"Romantically?"
"Hard."
"Promises, promises," he singsongs.
He's lucky he's cute. If anyone else talked to me like that, they'd be a crater in the snow by now.
I sit up and stretch, trying not to think about how nice it was-sleeping with someone who didn't feel like a threat. My tail flicks lazily behind me, probably betraying me, as always. He's grinning like a kid who got away with arson.
We walk back to the cabin. As he keeps talking about the various monsters he is friends with.
The place looks like a hurricane hit it-wine bottles, frosting, half a bouquet on the floor. Yet somehow, he makes the chaos look... domestic.
"You drank all that?" I ask.
He lies instantly. "I don't recall."
Of course he doesn't. I just shake my head and start making breakfast. Pancakes. Human food. Something to distract my brain from how dangerously soft I feel.
The pan sizzles. He floats in behind me like a ghost with boundary issues. Every time he giggles, I lose another pancake to the air.
"Vamps, sit down. I hate this kitchen, everything's so small as your ass."
He gasps. "Rude! But accurate."
When he says, "Daddy Chill," my tail literally twitches. I ignore it. Barely. I focus on flipping the last pancake, pretending my ears aren't burning. Somehow I manage to put that tail and ears back into my body like they dont exist.
He watches me. Not the pancakes-me. Like he's trying to memorize something. And that's when it hits me-the last time someone looked at me like that was before everything went wrong. Before my brother. Before the werewolf. Before the world decided I was a monster first, a man second.
Now there's this vampire. Annoying, loud, clingy, and somehow he makes me feel... human again.
He asks softly, "Puppers? You okay?"
Yeah, that word again. Puppers. If anyone else called me that, I'd howl their name into an obituary. But when he says it-it sounds like a heartbeat. Like warmth.
"Yeah," I murmur. "Just thinking."
He fixes my collar, and I swear it's harder to breathe for a second. "Guess the world took a break for the New Year," he says.
I smile. Just a small one. "Guess it did."
He eats one bite of pancake and spends the rest of breakfast narrating gossip about my college days. College days. As if I wasn't just trying to survive then. He laughs, and I almost laugh too. Almost.
When we pack up, I see him looking at the bouquet. He doesn't realize I kept it safe all night. Blue and yellow roses. The only fragile thing I've let myself hold since I lost my brother.
We head out. Snow crunches beneath our boots. He "accidentally" slips every ten steps. I catch him every time. I pretend to grumble, but truth is-I'd let him fall for real before I'd let anyone else touch him.
Then comes the cab driver.
That poor, terrified man.
"Please don't bite each other in my cab again!"
I groan. "We never-"
He cuts me off, shouting about trafficking, and Lean just goes along with it like it's a running joke. I swear, between the two of them, my sanity's a dying breed.
But then Lean leans his head on my shoulder. Quiet. Still. For once, no jokes. Just us, in a sunlit car, forest fading behind. And my hand finds his-like muscle memory.
He whispers, "If all my kidnappings end like this, I wouldn't mind being.I wouldn't mind being abducted again."
I can't help the small smirk. "Next time, I'm charging cab fare."
"Fine, but I'm paying in kisses," he says.
I freeze. My heart, that traitor, stutters.
"That's a non-refundable currency, Vamps," I mutter.
He grins. "Good. Then you can't return me."
And I don't know what to say to that. Because he's right.
I couldn't return him even if I tried.
When we reach the drop-off point, the cab speeds off like we're demons on parole. Lean laughs, that wild, contagious laugh that makes even the frost seem warmer.
"So, again tomorrow?" he teases.
"Chaos again tomorrow?" I ask.
"Same thing."
I roll my eyes, but my smile betrays me. He always catches it. Always.
We walk home, side by side, and I think-
Yeah. Maybe love's not what I thought it was.
Maybe it's just... what survives the night.
đ§ââď¸ Lean's POV - "Buzzkill at 10 A.M."
After we got home, my phone buzzes.
A message pops up - a name, just chaos.
"Meet me in the park near your workplace at 10. I'll explain everything later. Don't tell the Wild Mutt anything."
I blink.
Oh. Oh, this smells like trouble marinated in fun.
I try to explain something to Puppers, which he definitely doesn't believe, but before he can unleash the Dad Voiceâ˘, I use my vampire speed and-poof!-gone.
Mission: Escape from the Domestic Werewolf. Success. đŚđ¨
Now here I am.
Standing in the park.
And there he is.. In all his chaotic Bisexual glory.
"Hey Ray, dude! I'm here! What's up?"
We do our ritualistic handshake - which, by the way, looks exactly like we're summoning some Indonesian witch from the 13th century. Passersby are concerned. As they should be.
Then he goes, all serious-like,
"Vamps! Can I first hold your fangs!! Pleaseeeeee..."
I sigh. "You're such a child."
(đş Dom's voice in my head: "You're both children. I'm stuck Daddying two supernatural disasters. EVANDER, I HATE YOU.")
But I nod anyway. Because, come on - who can say no to Ray's stupid excited face? He is just a hot mess wrapped in cuteness.
He holds my fangs, eyes sparkling like he just found the Philosopher's Stone.
"Babe! You don't know how cool this is!!"
"I know right?!" I grin. "OKAY GURL-NOW SPILL. What's that urgent thing you dragged me into before my morning boba?!"
He pauses, eyes glinting with trouble.
"Oh yeah," he says, leaning closer. "I have a plan about the wolf..."