Connor and the Wolves - 18. Gifts

Soren stood under the warm shower. Stretching a leg out, he sighed in relief as his ankle popped. He’d already washed the lavender soap off — hopefully he wouldn’t get in trouble for using his own soap in here. It hadn’t clogged up his drains at home, so he doubted it would be bad at school.
“You really do act like an aerafael.” Kurt chuckled behind him. “I haven’t seen anyone this comfortable with their body before.”
“You’re aerafael,” Soren pointed out. “Why do you use the stalls?”
“Oh, that’s… well… back in King’s Crossing, the locker rooms were separated by gender. I actually changed in a closet because there weren’t any other eingar around. This whole… communal locker room thing is kind of weird.”
“You’ll get used to it.” Soren bit back a yelp as he turned the hot water off. The last of the soap washed off him, and he shut off the water quickly. “I’m sure it’s not much different from shifting around your family, right?”
“Right,” Kurt said dubiously, passing him a towel. “Honestly, I’m surprised you don’t use the shower in the stall.”
“I don’t care if I’m naked, and I don’t want to keep the stall occupied in case someone else needs it.” Soren dried off and hurried to get dressed. He froze in front of his locker. “Um… Kurt, have you seen my clothes?”
“No?” Kurt grimaced as she looked around Soren. “You did lock your locker, right?”
“I left my key in the lock so I wouldn’t lose it,” Soren grumbled, peering into the locker.
Not that it was going to help; the locker wasn’t large enough to hide anything.
“Well, they can’t have gone far,” Kurt said. “I’ll go ask Coach Miles if he’s seen anything. If all else fails, you can ride wolf style in the back of the truck.”
“I need to find them.”
Without those clothes, he was down to four outfits, one of which was way too small to see public use.
Soren tore through the locker room, searching high and low for any sign of his clothes. The room emptied quickly; none of the other athletes seemed keen on hanging around longer than necessary.
“Hey Soren.”
Miles approached the mage, concern written across his face.
“Have you already checked that side of the locker room?” The elf motioned toward the exit.
“Yeah,” Soren muttered.
“Okay, keep looking through the unlocked lockers. I’ll check the bins. Someone might have decided they were funny and tossed your clothes in the trash.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Kurt demanded.
“Yeah, make sure you and Alice stay in the locker room. The last thing we need is to break a law searching for missing clothes,” Miles said. “You can look through the showers. Alice can see if anything turned up in lost and found.”
Soren could have sworn Kurt flinched at Miles’ words. But he had more pressing matters on his hands. Going down a row of lockers, Soren opened every one that was unlocked, growing more and more frustrated as each turned up empty. He could hear Miles rustling through the garbage and Kurt’s shoes squeaking in the showers.
The door to the locker room slammed open. Soren flinched, peering over the locker banks as the school’s head stormed into the room.
“What’s going on in here?”
“Mr. Gathin!” Miles strode toward the man. “We’re looking for some lost clothes.”
Soren tucked Kurt’s towel around his waist quickly. He’d heard horror stories about werewolves caught with humans. The situation was already bad; he did not need to make it worse.
“I didn’t see anything in the shower,” Kurt said, stepping back into the main part of the locker room.
Mr. Gathin glowered at the trio.
“A concerned student informed me that you were alone with a werewolf,” he snapped.
“As you can see, I am not alone. Coach Alice was kind enough to stay behind and help me search,” Miles said. “I believe Kurt remained to help their friend find their clothes. Unfortunately, we haven’t had any luck.”
“Khurtschono, er…” Mr Gathin frowned at Soren.
“Soren,” Soren said quietly, clutching his towel to keep it from falling.
“You two should go,” Mr Gathin said. “Let Alice and Miles handle the missing clothes. If we find them, we’ll make sure they’re returned to you as soon as possible.” He scowled at Soren. “And from now on, bring a second set of clothes to dress into.”
That wasn’t going to solve anything. Werewolves didn’t change into gym clothes. But Soren didn’t bother explaining that.
“We don’t have any clothing that would fit you,” Alice said from the office. “Unfortunately it looks like you’re stuck with what you’re wearing.” She shrugged helplessly. “If it were later in the school year and more people had already lost their clothing, we might have had a loaner for you.”
“Here,” Kurt muttered, handing him a baggy sweatshirt. Where it had come from, Soren had no idea. But at least it meant he wouldn’t be bare-chested dashing for the truck.
Yanking it over his head, Soren winced at a tearing sound. He didn’t have a chance to search for the rip; Kurt was already nudging him out of the locker room. He grabbed his backpack as they passed, slinging it awkwardly over a shoulder.
They hurried through the empty car park. Unlocking her truck, Kurt waited for Soren to sit safely inside before shutting the door behind him.
“It’s a good thing Ma had Altanaa and John take the bus today,” she muttered, sliding into the driver’s seat.
Soren adjusted the towel around his waist as the truck rumbled into motion. He stared out the window, watching buildings pass slowly.
“Are you okay?” Kurt asked.
“Don’t know. I really needed to find my clothes.”
“I have a plan for that. Ma would freak out if she knew we were alone in the car while you were naked, so we’re going to get you something to wear.” Kurt glanced at Soren. “What size are you?”
“You don’t have to-”
“If I value my hide, yeah, I kinda do,” Kurt chuckled. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Large.” Soren sighed. Kurt was right. It would look bad if he got out of the car naked in front of her house. It felt bad, but he really had no choice. “I’ll pay you back.”
“Maybe cook me a fish?” Kurt suggested. “John tried to make catfish a few days ago, but it didn’t really come out right.”
Soren rubbed his neck, staring out the window. He didn’t have any spices, and actually finding a catfish could take a while. But he had to at least try.
“Yeah… yeah, I can do that.”
“It’s a deal then,” Kurt beamed, pulling into a car park. “Wait here. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”
Howlers’ Thrift Store… at least she wasn’t buying him anything expensive. Soren still didn’t like it, but he could live with this.

The minutes ticked by. Soren leaned forward every time a car passed. He definitely did not want to be caught without pants. Being nude on his property was one thing. Being nude in public was completely different. Couldn’t Alice have given him a jersey or something? The non-wolf runners used those all the time.
Heat flooded him. How long had he been in the car? Horror stories ran through his mind of kids and animals left in cars. Now he knew how they felt. It wasn’t even that hot out, but he was burning up.
A cheerful chime tore him from his thoughts. Glancing over at Kurt’s seat, Soren frowned at the neko’s phone. It must have fallen out of her pocket. A message flashed across her screen — someone named NekoWolf.
“Busy making out with Soren again?”
Soren’s eyes widened. What was Kurt telling people about him?
He jumped as the truck door opened. Drawing the towel tighter around his waist, Soren leaned back against the window as Kurt slid into the truck.
“You… you got a message,” he muttered.
“Oh, probably CatDog wondering where I am,” Kurt shrugged, passing a bag to Soren. “Go ahead and get dressed. I’ll cover for you.”
Soren pulled out a pair of jeans. A quick glance showed that the tags had already been removed. Who knew how much Kurt had spent? Pushing the thought aside, he unwrapped the towel. A bit of shimmying brought the tight jeans up to his thighs, and he paused.
“Are these skinny jeans?”
“Yeah,” Kurt said, tearing her eyes from him to glare at her phone. “I hope that’s okay. There’s a pair of regular pants in there too if you don’t like them. I wasn’t sure which you’d prefer.”
“Thanks…” Soren cringed. That sounded ungrateful. “I mean it. Thank you.”
“It’s no problem,” Kurt replied, tapping furiously at her phone.
Fixing the button, Soren adjusted himself. The jeans didn’t leave much to the imagination. He’d have to see if there was an old pair of underwear hiding in his house.
“Don’t worry about the sweatshirt,” Kurt added, looking up. “I really only have it for bad days.”
“Bad days?”
Soren peeled the sweatshirt off, wincing at another rip.
“Yeah. My body doesn’t always match how I’m feeling.” Kurt shrugged, starting the truck. “It helps to have a baggy sweatshirt to hide- son of a bitch!”
Soren flinched at Kurt’s curse.
“What?”
“I forgot my viola! It’s almost seven… there’s no way Miles is still there.”
“Oh.”
“There’s got to be a way to remind myself to grab it,” Kurt muttered, pulling out of the car park.
“I know how to pick locks.”
Kurt glanced at the human with a snort. The truck swerved suddenly, and she tore her eyes from Soren.
“Thanks for the offer, but I think we’ve gotten into enough trouble today.”
Rolling a tight shirt over his torso — did Kurt steal his clothes just for an excuse to get him in form fitting clothes? Soren shook his head.
“Well, the offer’s on the table, if you’re interested.”
“I’ll just play the morin khuur tonight,” Kurt said. “It’ll make my dad happy. But… how exactly did you learn to pick locks?”
“I was curious when I was ten,” Soren said. “My dad was less than enthused. Granted, I did break into his herbs and left a big mess. Would have lost access to the internet for a month, but Mom talked him down to a week. She wanted to encourage me to explore.”
“You told Altanchono about your herbs, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. There was a wasp nest just outside the sunroom.”
Small talk. He’d forgotten people enjoyed that. Though Kurt didn’t look too eager about it either.
“We… we don’t have to talk if you don’t want,” Soren said cautiously.
The sense of relief was palpable.
“Sorry,” Kurt chuckled. “I’m horrible about coming up with topics. And I figured you probably didn’t want to talk about your parents. You never seem to bring them up.”
Soren shrugged.
“I’d rather not,” he said. “It’s still painful.”
“No, I totally understand,” Kurt said.
They fell into a comfortable silence. Soren stared out the window, watching the city slowly fall behind.

A flash of heat washed over Soren as he unfolded himself from the truck. He set a hand on the truck’s side, supporting himself as he fought off the sudden attack. Apparently, the clothes weren’t the only gift he received today.
“You okay?” Kurt asked, crossing around the hood of the truck.
“Yeah,” Soren muttered, waving her off. They didn’t need to both get sick.
“Khurtsaa!”
An orange blur raced past Soren. Kurt yelped as Altanchono slammed into her. Soren lunged, grabbing her before she could fall.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Kurt snapped.
“Oh, nothing. Just distracting you until Ma gets here.” Altanchono grinned. “You’re nearly an hour late. She’s mad.”
“Ugh…” Kurt rolled her eyes. Glancing at Soren, she motioned in the direction of his house. “You should go. No reason you have to-”
“Hey, Soren!” The two turned toward the house. Skylar walked toward them, a pie in her hands. “Are you joining us for dinner?”
“No. I think I caught something,” Soren said quickly. “I don’t want to share it.”
“Oh. Well, I made this for you. Sort of a pie swap, banana cream for the blackberry pie you made… and that Altanchono gobbled before anyone could get a piece.”
Skylar glared at the orange neko, who suddenly seemed very interested in the truck. Beside him, Kurt smacked the back of his head.
“I knew you ate it!” she growled.
“Did not!”
“Liar!”
The two grabbed each other, kicking and scratching. Soren backed away uncertainly, just catching Skylar’s eye-roll.
“I can make another one,” he offered.
It wouldn’t be too hard; he might have to make more flour and pick more berries.
“No, I think Altanchono’s had enough,” Skylar chuckled. “Thanks for the offer, though.”
She pushed the pie into Soren’s hands. Soren cradled it like a sack full of gold — he could almost taste the cream already.
“You better get out of here,” Skylar warned. “Ma is not as lenient about letting guests leave without dinner.”
“Noted.” Soren chuckled, almost choking as his laugh turned to a cough. “I might not be back for a day or two. When I get sick, it tends to be rough.”
“We’ll send Khurtschono to check on you,” Skylar promised. “That is if she isn’t grounded for life after today.”
“Will she be okay?” Soren asked, glancing at the two squabbling nekos.
“Oh yeah. If it gets too bad, I just spray them with vinegar. Breaks them up pretty fast.”
“I’m suddenly glad I don’t have siblings,” Soren muttered. “I’ll send Kurt a message in the morning if I’m not going to make it to school. And… thanks for the pie.”
“Any time.”
Stepping around Kurt and Altanchono, Soren hurried to his house, taking care not to drop the pie. He wasn’t going to eat it tonight — something like this deserved to be savoured when he wasn’t feeling sick.
With any luck, whatever he caught would be gone in a day or two.