Connor and the Wolves - 27. Entrapped

What had he done?
Soren trudged off the bus, leading Connor toward the bus stop bathroom. They’d taken the bus because Kurt wouldn’t let them in the car. Kurt wouldn’t let them in the car because if Connor was Soren’s mate, then he was also Altanchono’s mate. And they’d only realised that when Skylar explained it.
Kurt wasn’t talking to Soren. He wasn’t sure the neko would ever talk to him again.
And it was all Soren’s fault.
“You don’t… live in the bathroom, do you?”
He could hear the nervous laugh in Connor’s voice. Soren answered with a huff — it would be a lot easier to talk once he was human again. A fact Connor seemed to realise himself.
“Oh… right, you’ll want to change.”
Shuffling into the bathroom, Soren pushed into the largest stall. A mirror sat on the door, allowing him to ensure he sculpted his body properly. Using his phone as a mirror earlier had been nerve-wracking.
He dressed slowly, dreading what was coming. But it was far too late to go back now.
All he wanted was to keep Kurt safe. How had this gone so wrong?
Someone knocked on the door, sending his thundering heart into a tailspin.
“Hey Soren? You okay in there?” Connor called through the stall.
Soren swallowed drily and cleared his throat.
“Uh… yeah. Just… Just getting dressed.” He glanced at his phone — how had he been in here for ten minutes already? “I’m almost done.”
“You can paw off later.”
Soren’s cheeks burned as he yanked his pants on. He threw open the stall door, and Connor took a stumbling step back.
“You… you can put your shirt on…” Connor stammered, his eyes travelling Soren’s bare chest.
Soren’s eyebrow arched in disbelief. Was Connor actually attracted to him? Or was this just nerves about being this close to a “werewolf”? He slipped the shirt over his head — a tank top borrowed from the WolfRoom. He wasn’t exactly a fan of the open arm design, but it wasn’t like Soren could afford to be picky.
A stunted inhale broke the room’s silence — did Connor just sniff him? Shaking his head in confusion, Soren nudged past the shorter man, opening the bathroom door.
“I didn’t get the chance to shower,” he muttered as they made their way outside. “No soap.”
“Don’t worry about it.” There was no doubt. Something had Connor breathless. “Uh… You live by the river?”
“Yeah. Ten minutes from here. About,” Soren added, recalling a similar conversation with Kurt. Oh… he was supposed to hold a conversation, wasn’t he? “Did you say something about living around here on the bus?”
“Well, not this far out. But yeah, I spend the weekends in West Astara.” Connor shrugged. “It’s… well…”
He trailed off, leaving the two to walk in silence. The forest swallowed them slowly, muffling the sound of sporadic traffic on the road. A leaf crunched under Soren’s foot, bringing a small smile to the mage’s face.
“Oh good, you can smile.”
It was such a ridiculous statement. Soren glanced at Connor, a snort breaking free.
“I’m not a robot,” he said.
“No, of course not. Just very intimidating.”
Him, intimidating? Soren shook his head in confusion. He wasn’t intimidating — Connor couldn’t see how hard it was for him to interact with people. They were far more unnerving than Soren could ever be.
“No, if you want to see intimidating, you should see Kurt when he’s angry-”
“She,” Connor corrected him.
Soren frowned.
“No, his bangle was on his left wrist when we changed.” Connor glanced at him in confusion. “He’s a girl when her bangle is on the right, and a boy when it’s on the left.”
“Oh… You know what, I’ll just say they, then. But yeah, I’ve heard her- them when raids go sour. Not the most pleasant experience in the world.”
“That raid where he had me shoot the gas-”
“Oh, that was… hairy, but not sour,” Connor chuckled. “We orchestrated most of that, though getting caught in that anti magic shield was not part of the plan. At least, I don’t think it was.”
They lapsed into silence, listening to the murmur of the river and the crunch of leaves under their feet. The scent of fresh water wafted through the air, intermingled with the stench of rotting vegetation. Trees encroached around them, and several times, Soren had to sweep a branch aside to avoid hitting Connor. As they left the road behind them, he could feel Connor’s eyes burning into him.
“Are you an axe murderer?”
Soren snorted. Stopping, he turned toward Connor.
“I mean, it’s a legit question,” Connor defended himself. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, heading into a dark forest.”
“The road is right there, and we’re on a deer trail.” Soren pointed back the way they came, through brush he’d been keeping clear. “I have an axe, but I’ve only used it on fallen trees. For firewood.” He studied Connor, trying to keep the frown off his face. “Do… do you really think I’m going to hurt you?”
“Not really,” Connor admitted. “But you were rather forceful when you claimed me.”
Heat flooded through Soren. His stomach clenched, and he glanced away from Connor.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered.
Connor shrugged.
“Not that I’m happy about it, but if it had been a deal breaker, I wouldn’t be here right now,” he pointed out. “Just… I mean, I’m probably okay with some domination; I know how wolves can be. But don’t go overboard.”
“You… want me to control you?” Soren’s heart thundered in his chest. The thought had never even crossed his mind — not that it’d had the time to. He sighed. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“I know,” Connor said. “Er… don’t tell Sharp- er, Khurtschono this, but I’ve never actually dated anyone before.”
“Really?” Soren breathed a sigh of relief, starting to walk again. “You seem like the kind of person who’d have people begging for the chance.”
Connor laughed weakly, following the mage along the deer trail.
“You’d think so.”
Soren stared straight ahead as they walked. What had he gotten himself into? He had no idea who Connor was. It only drove home the folly of his actions; sure, Kurt was safe now, but how was Soren supposed to handle Connor? There was no way to break things off — he’d already claimed Connor. Could a werewolf even reverse a mate claim? Wouldn’t that immediately raise suspicions? Then Kurt would find out he wasn’t actually a wolf, and he’d lose the only friend he’d ever had.
If he hadn’t lost Kurt already.
“Wow…”
Connor’s murmur drew Soren’s attention back to the present. A wall of chopped firewood sat between them and Soren’s house. Soren glanced at Connor in confusion — firewood wasn’t that strange of a sight.
“Do your parents collect firewood as a hobby?”
“They’re dead,” Soren muttered.
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Connor paused, staring at Soren. “Wait… you did this? I mean, you had help, right?”
“No? It’s just me out here.” Soren looked at the firewood. “It’s only four cords. Mostly seasoned by now. I don’t use much — not since I figured out how to use the heater efficiently.”
“Just you…” Connor glanced back at the trail, hesitating. “I kinda thought there’d be someone else out here,” he admitted.
“Is that a problem?” Did he want to rethink this whole thing? Soren sucked in a breath — maybe the entire problem would be solved right now. “I can take you back to the bus stop-”
“Oh no, it’s fine,” Connor said quickly. “I’m just a bit surprised.”
“I mean, I know a lot of people are uncomfortable with being alone with a werewolf,” Soren pressed.
“I’m not a lot of people,” Connor smirked. “Just one person, at least the last time I checked.”
Soren bit his lip. If he kept pushing, Connor would probably get suspicious. But why was Connor so accepting of a stranger claiming him? Was it because he’d grown up in the Wolf Patrol?
“Look, I appreciate your consideration,” Connor said. “But I’m a big boy. I can handle being in a relationship with a werewolf. Probably. If I get uncomfortable, I’ll tell you. So just… be yourself.” He grinned at Soren. “Though if you start licking yourself around me, I might have to spray you.”
“Okay.” A small smile lifted the corner of Soren’s lips. Leading Connor around the house, he opened the front door. The smell of home flooded his nose, and his shoulders slumped in relief. “Um… hopefully it’s not too messy for you.”
“Oh, it’s fine,” Connor said, following Soren inside. “This is very cosy.”
Soren closed the door behind them, hesitating in the entrance. For some reason, Connor’s response felt like a judgement. Why did it matter? He hadn’t been this self-conscious when Kurt came over.
Fuck, was it because he’d claimed Connor? Because they were… boyfriends?
“Hey.” A hand touched Soren’s shoulder, and he jumped. Connor’s eyes met his briefly before Connor glanced down to Soren’s chest. “I mean it. This place is nice.”
“Sorry. It’s… it’s just hitting me that we’re… together.”
“Yeah. This isn’t exactly how I imagined today going,” Connor smirked. “Um… maybe we should sit somewhere? We can talk a bit-”
“Actually, I’m supposed to make some catfish for Kurt.” Soren scratched an itch on his arm, glancing at the floor. “I’ve been meaning to do it for a week now, but those things are impossible to find when you’re actually looking for them. And actually catching them without being stung-”
“Wait, fish can sting you?”
“Uh… yeah. At least, catfish can.” Soren leaned toward the kitchen, hesitating. “Maybe we can talk in the kitchen?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Connor followed Soren into the kitchen. Soren did his best to avoid thinking about how Connor looked around the house. It was going to happen. Why was he so tense about it?
Crossing the kitchen, he filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove. A cup of tea would be great — he still had some mint that could soothe their nerves.

Mushrooms covered a plate on the computer screen, filled to the brim with catfish and various other ingredients. Soren scowled at his own platter. His mushrooms were falling apart, and his fish missed the buttery sheen the model had. He’d gotten better at substitutions over the years, but there was only so much he could change in a recipe like this. Supplies borrowed from the Home Ec room at school couldn’t solve everything — how was he supposed to transport dairy products? Acorn milk didn’t make for good butter either, and it was such a pain to make.
Did Kurt even like mushrooms? She had to — they were really the only way he could improve the catfish. If Kurt didn’t… There were only so many spices Soren could use, and even those were hard to come by.
“These smell great,” Connor said from the kitchen entrance. “Are you studying to be a cook? You used a lot of… interesting ingredients.”
“Vet,” Soren muttered, scowling at the mushrooms. “I’m trying to become a vet,” he amended, trying to sound a little more upbeat. This disaster wasn’t Connor’s fault, after all. “But I learned to cook with what I had.”
“Ah. I’m hoping to get a job as a physical trainer after school,” Connor provided. “Leaning more toward helping wolves, but really, as long as I can help someone, I’ll be happy.”
Soren sighed, draping a cloth over the mushrooms. There really wasn’t anything he could do for them.
“I’m sure they taste as good as they smell,” Connor said.
A soft, upbeat tone interrupted him, and Connor fished his phone from his pocket. His face instantly soured, and he swiped across the phone.
“Hey, Mom.” Soren caught him rolling his eyes, and Connor turned quickly, ducking his head. “No, I’m at… at a friend’s house. Yes, I have a friend.” How far were his eyes going to roll? “No, you don’t know him. Yes, he’s a him.” Connor blew sharply, shaking his head after a moment’s pause. “We’re at least twenty minutes out of town. The nearest stop is ten minutes away.”
Soren heard a voice yelling from the phone. Connor yanked the device away from his ear. Their eyes met again, and again Connor jerked his eyes away from Soren’s.
“Yeah, I got it. Not much I can do about it,” he said finally as his mother’s yelling faded. “Um…” He put his hand over the phone, glancing at Soren. “Hey, I really hate to do this, but the Royal Council just imposed a curfew, and there’s no way I can make it home before it goes into effect. Is it okay if I stay here for the night?”
No! Absolutely not! How was he supposed to handle having a fake mate in the same house as him?! Was he supposed to have sex with Connor? Try to have sex with him? Was this Connor’s way of asking him to actually mate him?
“Sure…”
Why couldn’t he shut up? Every time he talked, he only made things worse.
Soren turned back to the mess in the kitchen, listening to Connor as he started cleaning up. At least here was one mess he could fix.
“Yeah, I’m set for the night. Clothes? Yeah, I have my bag. I’m set for the night,” Connor repeated behind him. “Come on Mom, I’m not going anywhere. No werewolf is going to jump me because I stink.”
Soren’s ears burned. He scrubbed furiously at a bowl, trying to pretend he hadn’t heard that.
“Yes, I’ll call you in the morning,” Connor sighed. “I’ll be home by ten.”
He stabbed at the phone and slipped it back into his pocket. Turning to Soren, Connor froze at the look the mage gave him.
“I… um… sorry to spring this on you,” he said, scratching the back of his head.
“You didn’t tell your mom you loved her?” Soren asked quietly.
“No?” Connor chuckled weakly. “Trust me, if I did that, she’d think there was something wrong with me.”
Soren shrugged, turning back to his dishes.
“I’m not trying to set anything up either,” Connor added quickly. “There’s a lot of shit going down over King Finley releasing Miranda-”
“Who?”
“Miranda?” Soren turned, drying off a bowl as he waited for Connor to elaborate. “The Elfslayer? Murdered Queen Erin and her entire court.”
“Oh.” Soren frowned — someone like that shouldn’t be released from jail. “Why would he let her go?”
“Who knows?” Connor shrugged. “Some people say King Finley set her up so he could get rid of the elf queen. Others say it’s because she’s a neko and he’s a neko. Still others think he’s being controlled by his court. There’s all sorts of conspiracy theories.”
“Oh.” Soren stared at the sink, water gushing from the faucet. He shut off the tap mindlessly, his thoughts racing. Food. They needed dinner, if Connor was staying here. “Um… I’ll get started on dinner.”
“If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know,” Connor said. “I’m not completely helpless in the kitchen.”
“Okay… uh…” Soren glanced around. He had plenty of venison left over. And fish in the weir, but those would take a while to clean. Still, cleaning a fish today would be preferable to doing it on a weekday. “Do you know how to clean a fish?”
“I’m guessing you mean more than just rinsing it in the sink.” Connor shook his head.
“Okay, I’ll handle the gutting,” Soren said. “Can you get a pan oiled? There’s oil above the stove; it’s labelled. The pan is under the stove.”
“Sure thing,” Connor said, stepping around the mage.
Soren waited until he was sure Connor had the right pan, before heading outside.

A fish flew through the air. Scales glinted in the late afternoon sun, and a thunderous splash broke the murmur of the river. Nearly a dozen fish swam frantically through the water, dodging hands and feet in a desperate attempt to escape their trap.
Soren’s hand plunged into the weir again, grabbing a fish passing between his legs. Hefting the large bass, he hurled it back into the flowing river, setting it free.
There weren’t that many fish in the weir, but there were still too many to reasonably eat, even after removing the younger fish. He wasn’t going to risk a fish dying in the weir and potentially polluting his supply.
Grabbing another fish, Soren dragged it to the edge of the weir. A rock cracked its skull and a screwdriver finished the grisly task quickly. Soren set his catch aside, searching for its mate. Peering through the silt his feet kicked up, Soren paused at the sound of a snapping branch.
Connor appeared on the narrow path Soren had carved over the years. His eyes widened at the sight of the fish, and Connor turned away.
“Um… uh, the pan… the pan is oiled…” he gagged out.
“Thanks.” Soren thrust his hand into the weir again, fighting with another slippery tilapia. “You can go back if-”
His foot slipped, and Soren tumbled, sinking below the water. He shoved off against the riverbed, shooting after a fish in the hopes of snatching it before running out of breath.
No luck.
Breaking the surface of the river, Soren gasped for air.
“Are you o- are you okay?” Connor stammered, staring at the mage.
“Yeah-” Soren felt a breeze wash over his body. Oh… “Yeah, I’m fine. Um… you can go back inside if you want.”
“Sorry… I just wasn’t expecting you to be naked,” Connor said quickly. “Or… or to be bashing fish brains out.”
“It’s the fastest way. They don’t have much time to panic.” Soren shrugged. “And I don’t really have swimming clothes. Never needed any.”
Turning around, Soren tracked the tilapia who’d escaped his clutches. He waded through the weir and dove again. Trapping the fish between himself and the rocks, he yelped as the tail slapped just above his crotch. Hand tightening, the mage dragged the second fish out of the water, ending it as he had the first.
“That’s all we need for the night,” he added, glancing up at Connor.
Connor was turned away, his head ducked low. Soren saw a furtive movement near the man’s crotch, and he snorted in disbelief.
“Are you-?”
“I’m confused, okay?” Connor grumbled, angling his body. “The blood is fucking gross, but you’re fucking hot and-”
“Wait… I’m hot?” Soren frowned, pondering this new information. He’d never thought of himself that way; most of the time, he was just trying to survive.
“Well yeah,” Connor scoffed. “When I first heard your voice, I got goosebumps. When you talked in game, I started thinking you were a pretty great guy. Then having you claim me like you did — not that I’m condoning that, but fuck…” Soren glanced away as Connor looked at him. “I would bend over for you right now if you asked me to. Er…” Connor grimaced at the bloody fish on the rocks. “...After you clean up, of course.”
“I can’t make you a werewolf.”
Soren sucked in a breath, but the damage was already done. His cards were on the table. The burbling river was the only thing that kept silence at bay. It grew, second after second, trapping Soren in a terrifying loop of ‘what-ifs.
Then Connor laughed.
“Don’t worry about me,” he brushed off. “I mean, I’m not ready to be a werewolf either. Though I have been thinking about it lately.”
Soren released his breath. That was it? Connor just… didn’t want to acknowledge what Soren said? Or maybe he didn’t believe that Soren wasn’t a werewolf. Soren had been a wolf most of the afternoon, after all.
He opened his mouth — this could end right now.
No, it couldn’t. He was already in too deep, wasn’t he? For half his life, he’d been trapped in solitude. Now that he actually had friends, could Soren risk giving it all up again?
“It’s not because I don’t want to-” he added breathlessly. “You… um… you’re really nice too.”
“But it is our first date after all…” Connor paused. “Wait, does this count as a date?”
“I guess?” Soren shrugged.
“Well, either way, I’m not going to be one of those people who bangs on the first date,” Connor said.
“Me neither.” The relief was palpable as Soren turned his attention to the fish. He needed to gut them sooner rather than later. “Do you want to help me with these?”
“I think I’ll let you handle this.” Connor blanched, tearing his gaze away as Soren reached for the fish. “Um… are you getting dressed? I mean, it’s fine if not… obviously I’m enjoying the view… and it is your home.”
Soren’s eyes squeezed shut, heat flooding his body. Worse, he could feel his crotch tensing, a sure sign his arousal would be showing soon. Well, at least he wasn’t the first.
“I’m getting dressed,” he muttered, setting the fish down for his clothes. “Though… I don’t usually sleep clothed. And I don’t really have a bed either.”
“You wolf out to sleep? Cool,” Connor grinned as Soren pulled his pants back on.
“No, just prefer not to make more laundry to do later,” Soren corrected.
Connor nodded sagely as they started along the path back to the cabin.
“That’s fair.”
Soren’s jeans tightened around his crotch, and the mage silently cursed Kurt. He didn’t belong in skinny jeans. There was no way Connor couldn’t see his cock straining to escape again. Not that it mattered — Connor had already seen him naked. To be fair, Soren had caught more than a glimpse of the man in the locker room. He supposed they were even.