MetaDeprivation - 29. MetaPrompts 625: Bye1 (MW8)

“I’m going to kill him,” Colt moaned, slowly gliding into the hot tub.

“Depending on how you’ll do it, he might enjoy it,” Prime answered with slight amusement. He had massaged Colt’s calves for 15 minutes. Of course, that had resulted in massaging some other muscles for another 15 minutes and even more ‘pain’ for Colt. Poor Meta, so abused.

“He drove me up every winding road on that hill as if I was a goat, why can’t we just run along the lake?” Colt continued to complain. “Or he can torture some fighter wolves chasing them up and down the mountains … I’m getting too old for that shit.”

Prime stepped into the hot tub and leaned against the stone wall. The cold air of an early spring night on his wet face felt refreshing, as did the hot water feel calming. The scent of wine due to a recent ‘harvest’ still hung in the air like the scent of rain after stormy clouds had relieved themselves, tantalizing his tongue. He nearly felt it to be blasphemy to have a strong beer after sex like other men had a cigarette. But he comforted himself with the thought it was one of CE’s good beers, courtesy of the local microbrewery the new guy from the Feldberg Pack had opened. It seemed there would still be an enforcer in the next generation WWP who appreciated proper beer. Although, he couldn’t get into the beer and fruit combos. The syrup from Maple trees was supposed to go on pancakes and nowhere else.

His – so very conventional – beer was heavy, malty, smooth, and contained a level of alcohol that was surely against the law.

“He can’t stick his nose up sweaty gym pants when running with them,” Prime explained, visualizing Sam staring at Colt’s behind while chasing him up a hill.

“It’s supposed to be the other way round: I should ogle his muscular behind, not he my scrawny one …”

“I guess he begs to differ … and he has lots of weaponry to get his way.”

“Sure, you wolves stick together,” Colt gently pulled at Prime’s sticky out ear, cold from the air, wet from the steam, sweetly scented like strawberries. “So do I get a drink as well?”

Prime rolled his eyes dramatically, opened the Diet Coke can and handed it to his spoilt-rotten Meta.

“It’s an amazing night.” Suddenly Colt’s voice had changed. Gone was the whiny little man, back was the Meta who would fearlessly lead his wolves into danger.

“Shadowlands,” Prime whispered nearly like in prayer.

Colt searched for the big red wolf’s hand under the water to squeeze it reassuringly. He knew, in a few months they would be gone. He had a plan how that would go, but his wolves didn’t know yet. For them, it meant they would move back to LA to get old and leave Shadowlands in the hands of the next generation. He didn’t know how they would react when they learned they would outlive not only Forest but many White Wolf Pack alphas to come. And that was only the best of all outcomes.

“So who will join us first?” Prime suddenly asked, trying to change the mood again. So Alpha, never letting things get too gloomy; finding the bright spot literally in the middle of the night.

“Mmmm, I’d say CE,” Colt ventured. “He’s home, and he’s CE.” Colt was surprised how much softness was in his voice.

“Agreed. Last?”

“Need to think …”

At this moment, a deep baritone came through Colt’s living quarters, through the half-opened terrace door: “Guys, do you mind if I join you?” It basically meant: ‘Unless you’re fucking right now, I will hop into the hot tub and cause a major flood.’

“Big guy, get in. But carefully. And have some more beer with you!” Prime ordered, while high-fiving with Colt. “I think it’s going to be Brian,” he lowered his voice. “He’s writing my speech … and he thinks the later the guest, the more important he is …”

Colt tilted his head to the right, to the left, and back to the right. “I’d venture it’s Gavin. Of course, a marine Colonel waits until his troops are assembled …”

“The 10 minutes before 10 minutes before 10 minutes rule for us?” Prime joked.

“What are you guys talking about?”

“How fat your ass got,” Prime lied.

“No more beer for my Alpha then, he’s abusive,” CE complained while holding up two special 12-packs of beer.

“What are your plans? Getting me drunk?” Colt wondered.

“One would have been enough then,” Prime teased. He chucked down his bottle so that CE could hand him a fresh one.

“Is there a party going on?” Another very familiar, very welcome noise.

“Yes! And there are noise complaints, so the police better inquire!” Prime shouted while he and Colt exchanged knowing looks.

“Well, actually, I just wanted to bring the catering,” Warren responded, lifting the basket he was carrying in his hands.

“What’s in there?” CE asked eagerly; somehow he had lost interest in his beers, not unlike a young dog who had found a new shiny ball.

“Oh, just some vegan tofu and vegetable salad with seeds …”

Prime and Colt burst into laughter when they saw how CE’s face fell into a thousand sad pieces. Colt even had to get up and wrestle himself into the big bear’s arms, as he said: “Warren, that is inhuman treatment of wolves!”

Warren stepped out of his shorts while opening the mini-grill they had installed on Colt’s terrace. “Well, in one of them I have some cold cuts, a beef stew …” CE seemed to grow behind Colt’s back. “… and fresh steaks for your mini grill.”

“Which you’re going to fire up.”

“Of course,” Warren answered as if it was the most normal thing to stand naked in the middle of a cold night in front of a grill, throwing obscenely-sized pieces of meat on it. “I thought you could use a snack, Colt, I heard Sam chased you all over Shadowlands.”

“Sure, that meat is for me …”

“What’s in the other basket?”

“Oh. I nearly forget. Just some new cakes based on recipes from our last year’s trip to Paris and Vienna.”

“Chocolate?”

“Two!”

“I love you, enforcer!” CE grinned and gently lifted Colt off his lap to get to the second basket.

“I see, chocolate before Meta,” Colt laughed.

CE gave him those sad puppy eyes.

“What’s going on here?” another voice bellowed through the air.

“Stop your DI-voice, and jump in!” Colt bellowed back in the best DI-voice he could muster. “And Bradley as well.”

It seemed the red-haired enforcer blushed realizing everyone knew he had kind of hidden behind the tattooed marine, but didn’t care when he picked up the smell of wine, beer, steak, and cake. He had worked all week on the finishing of their house in LA and deserved a relaxing break with his brothers on one of his last nights in Shadowlands. He couldn’t even imagine not being here; and for an hour he wouldn’t have to.

While Bradley discarded his too tight jockstrap in a second, Isaac folded his USMC-green jacket with the proficiency of a recruit in the last week of boot camp.

Of course, the next wolf, Sam, didn’t ask for permission, nor did he wear even the skimpiest clothes. He just stomped through, arriving at the hot tub in his naked glory. He put his hands to his sides and complained loudly: “Pool Party behind my back, not cool!”

“All the water will be gone once you get in here!” Bradley complained.

“Tell that to your ass, it causes more water displacement than a USN aircraft carrier …,” Sam retorted quickly.

And everyone had to laugh, when Bradley stood up, bent around, checking out his lily-white backside nearly sheepishly.

“Sit down, steaks are ready in a second,” Warren barked. He enjoyed manning the grill, as this was the only one Prime allowed him to work on, as it was only a ‘mini’ grill, hence not really worthy an Alpha – in contrast to the mega grills they had in the kitchen and on the ‘public’ patio downstairs.

“Good,” CE acknowledged with satisfaction, barely after he had licked it his fingers clean.

“And you back into the hot tub, finger Colt and not the cakes!” Warren ordered in his police officer attitude.

CE saluted sloppily but behaved.

“What’s going on here?” a hero tenor voice cut through the air.

“An anti-beta mutiny?” a rough senior marine voice answered the very same second.

And everyone stared at Colt and Prime who had burst into laughter, spitting beer and Coke through the air. They hugged and clapped each other’s back.

“Care to elaborate what’s so funny?” Brian asked while dropping his too tight light-blue swim speedos.

Prime shook his head, trying to regain some of his Alpha seriousness. “Nothing, Beta, nothing. I promise.”

“Why do I have the feeling he’s lying?” Gavin answered, his silkies falling on top of Brian’s speedos, not appearing less skimpy in any comparison.

“Meta and Alpha privilege,” Colt explained, knowing that pulling rank tended to work with his wolves.

“As long as we get some of that steak and beer, I’m fine,” Gavin pointed towards the grill.

“We might run out of beer though,” CE quickly did the math.

“No worries,” Brian, who had barely put his toe into the warm water, jumped up, dashing back into Colt’s rooms, well aware everyone was watching his athletic performance.

And Colt thought Brian wouldn’t need Fate’s skills, he still looked as deliciously Greek god-like as the day they had met for their first ‘date.’

When Brian returned with more beer, Warren handed out steaks on plastic plates, and Sam told with excitement about the latest delivery of drone-based silver arrow delivering mechanisms, leading to endless technical follow-up questions by all the wolves. Colt tried to unobtrusively observe each of his wolves in this moment of communal bliss.

Warren was so proud the wolves devoured his steaks as if they hadn’t eaten in weeks, his full cheeks red from the heat of the grill and steam of the pool.

Bradley elaborated with detail how their new house was featuring all the latest technical gimmicks including several drones permanently hovering around it as mobile lookout posts. Of course, he didn’t forget to mention that the acquisition of the two neighboring houses allowed them to put an outdoor gym into their garden.

Isaac shared his exchange with the Feldberg Pack where he had jokingly complained about the lack of military training of the German enforcer who would be joining Forest’s Inner Circle. Of course, the Alpha, Max’ oldest son, told him to suck it up like the sissy marine his father had told him he was.

Sam couldn’t stop talking about the aforementioned drones, stating one specification after another and announcing proudly, they would test them with the new IC in the next days. He sounded more like planning for a new toy railway set than testing deadly weaponry.

CE had to confess that for the first time Forest had beaten him in a mock-fight within 10 minutes. Forest had been able to get the upper hand for more than five years now, Alpha and such, but never so quickly. CE’s sheer strength and experience were, after all, a good match for a young alpha, but Forest wasn’t ‘young’ anymore. Prime at Forest’s age had already taken over the much weaker pack, and successfully beaten an Alpha in a challenge. But instead of being sad about his waning power, CE was bursting with pride that his ersatz-son had become such a formidable fighter.

Gavin proudly shared all the updates about the pack wolves currently serving in the Corps, interlaced with complaints that the Corps had turned completely soft, and during his time he would have restored order with an iron fist. He also made it clear the youngest wolf’s graduation was absolutely off limits for Colt if they wanted to avoid Camp Pendleton to disintegrate completely. It didn’t help the boy’s name was Leo and he had some cunning familiarity with the former Beta, which wasn’t a surprise given his Canadian heritage.

Brian asked for a toast for himself as he had done the last WWP Holding Inc board meeting ever. As of now, it was up to Arthur to deal with that ‘PR bullshit’ as the blond Beta phrased it so sophistically. He couldn’t help stating, though, that Arthur split infinitives much too often for his taste, but supposedly that wasn’t a punishable offense anymore nowadays.

Colt’s glances moved briefly back to CE, who was already dealing with his second steak, despite knowing there was a full basket of sweets waiting for him. He felt CE would suffer most from leaving Shadowlands – after all, he had lived through that once before.

Prime finally shared the bet Colt and he had made about who would join them first and last.

“A CE has to be where his Alpha and his Meta are,” CE justified his presence without any regret.

Brian and Gavin exchanged some eye rolls as if complaining wordlessly about the brass, but were innocently proud of themselves.

And once all the steaks and most of the sweats had been eaten, all the beers drunk, their skin had turned ugly-wrinkly, the night was at its deepest and darkest, Colt suggested – to make this moment the perfect memory for any world he lived in: “So what about you guys shifting and we sleep out here?”

Prime’s eyes widened with a soft glow.

Colt bathed in the view of the white mountains, majestic eagles, tall pine trees, virgin valleys, and crystal clear waterfalls.

It was nearly as it would be again, in Idaho.

If it hadn’t been for that sign in an odd language he knew too well.