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    Yeoldebard
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Connor and the Wolves - 21. In Sickness And In Health

This chapter contains a content warning for unwanted advances. Reader discretion is advised.

Raindrops tapped across the river. Resting against a submerged rock, Soren watched the miniscule waves ripple against his arms.
Soft warmth enveloped him, only adding to the heat he felt. Soren felt himself falling, and he threw out a hand, trying to steady himself against a boulder. A calico hand supported him, and Soren stared at it blankly before realisation caught up to him.
“Kurt?”
“Oh good, you’re awake.” Kurt helped — dragged — him from the river. Soren blinked as the world swam around him. “Let’s get you dried off….” They were in the bathroom? That was a sudden change of scenery. “Okay, bad idea….”
Bad idea? What was a bad idea?
Soren slumped against the wall, sliding to the ground. Kurt knelt beside him, his warm furry hands running over Soren’s glistening body. No — he was rubbing Soren with a towel.
“Fuck, you’re hot.”
He was hot? Was Kurt coming onto him? Soren had never been interested in dating, and planning for the future was difficult when you lived one season at a time.
Still….
“So are you,” he said, his eyes exploring Kurt’s body.
He’d never even seen Kurt naked… but the neko always seemed to be around when Soren was nude. The clothes were a bit of a problem… and why was Kurt shrinking?
Soren blinked. His eyes weren’t seeing things; Kurt was turning into a cat. He arched his back, stretching out before curling up in Soren’s lap.
“What-”
“Don’t you want to pet me?” Kurt purred, kneading his paws against Soren’s leg. “Cats have healing properties. Let me heal you.”
“Hey Soren, can you hear me?”
A black-furred face peered down at him, a face he blearily recognised. What was Khenbish doing in his dreams? Soren shook, fighting to keep his head up. Everything felt so heavy.
“Yeah….” he muttered,
He shivered, cold air seeping into his bones.
“I’m Doctor Khenbish, Khurtschono and Altanchono’s father. We want to take you to our house so we can help you get better. Is that okay?”
A doctor? Kurt hadn’t mentioned that… or had he?
Soren blinked again.
A soft hand cupped the back of his head, gently holding him up. Orange fur this time… Altanchono? His head pounded, a steady ache throbbing behind his eyes. Another blink brought the young neko into focus. Soren’s eyes flicked around, taking in Kurt’s room… when had he gotten to Kurt’s room? Was he dreaming? He had to be dreaming still.
Altanchono set a bowl to Soren’s lips. Grimacing at the memory of salty milk, Soren tried to pull his head back.
“Aav wants you to drink this,” Altanchono said. “He and Khurtschono made it special for you. And I made you soup.”
Soren felt his stomach rumbling. His eyes fell, trying to see into the bowl. It looked plain enough, no sign of any milk. A tentative sip provided no clue to the contents beyond the bitterness of some root.
“There you go,” Altanchono coaxed, tilting the bowl slowly. “If Aav wants you to drink it, I know it will help you feel better.”
Left with no choice but to drink, Soren swallowed Altanchono’s offering. The warm liquid soothed a throat he’d barely noticed was sore, and Soren found himself wishing for more when the tea was gone.
Instead, he fell with a thump as Altanchono left the room. The dreams could stop now. He’d give anything for a nice, peaceful-
“You need to eat…”
Soren groaned, lifting himself into a seated position once again. He tried not to glower at Kurt — the neko was only trying to help… assuming he was real. Soren had his doubts any of this was real, but at least his dreams weren’t nightmares.
Maybe it was real. Soren doubted even his dreams would imagine Kurt trying to feed him soup with a pair of sticks. Yet the neko scooted the bowl toward Soren’s mouth, a piece of meat held expertly by the sticks. Chicken? Soren hadn’t had chicken since he’d snuck into a farmer’s field… what, nearly six years ago? The feathers made the bird a very unsatisfying meal, but it had been an easy catch after weeks of fruitless hunting.
“I can hold it…” he grumbled, reaching for the bowl.
His hands knocked against the ceramic, and Soren squeezed his eyes shut, as though the action of blinking would clear them.
“You can barely see it.” How was Kurt so observant? “Just focus on chewing. I’ll do the rest.”
It was infuriating, not being able to care for himself. But Soren relented — he had no strength to sit up on his own, let alone fight about holding his food. With his luck, he’d probably end up spilling it all over Kurt’s bed.
He was in Kurt’s bed, right?
Soren glanced across the room, where the second bed sat neatly made. Which one was Altanchono’s? Where would Kurt and Altanchono be sleeping?
Struggling with that thought, he barely noticed the food slipping down his throat. A quiet whine escaped him as Kurt stopped feeding him, and Soren tipped the bowl, chasing the distant chicken flavour in the broth.
“Now get some sleep,” Kurt said, pulling the bowl from Soren’s lips. “I’m sure you’ll feel better by the morning.”
Soren’s eyelids fell as Kurt left the room. He pried them open, watching the door close. Another blink proved too much work.

Soren stumbled down a long hall. Every step seemed to drag him back as his goal drew further and further away. Tears weeped from his eyes as he pushed onward frantically.
He wasn’t going to make it.
The world stretched around him. With a sickening rush, everything leapt at him. The hallway collapsed. The door at the end towered over him. Soren burst through the door, collapsing over a giant toilet as his stomach emptied.
Before he could even gasp for breath, his guts lurched again. And again. Leaning over the bowl, Soren tried to inhale, tried to get air into his lungs, but each attempt was only met with more vomit. Liquid filled his throat, and he hacked it up, desperately working to clear his airway.
“Help…”
His voice cracked. Who was he calling for? No one would answer him. Soren was alone.
Until he wasn’t.
Gentle hands swept back his hair. Soren let out a startled gasp that devolved into frantic coughing. He lay his head against the toilet, staring at the person behind him.
“You’re not here…” he whimpered.
“I’ll always be here for you,” his mother said, stroking his hair soothingly. “Whenever you need me.”
“I always need you.”
Lifting him in her arms, Soren’s mother carried him back to his bed. She tucked him under the covers before kissing his forehead.
“Get some sleep.”
“Don’t leave me again-”
His mother smiled, sitting on the edge of his bed.
“I’ll stay here until you fall to sleep. Then I have to get some sleep myself.”
With his mother stroking his head, it wasn’t long before Soren closed his eyes, and his dreams shifted again.

A loud thump followed each swing of Soren’s axe. Beside him, a bucket slowly filled with green wood, ready to dry for next year’s fires. The sky was bright and blue — why that was important for Soren, he didn’t know. Maybe because it wasn’t raining? Why would he be chopping wood in the rain?
Soft arms wrapped around his torso from behind. Soren paused mid-swing, shivering as a rough tongue chased a bead of sweat across his back.
“What are you doing, Kurt?”
The neko turned him around. Soren stumbled, falling back as Kurt guided him into a patch of grass. Kurt crawled on top of Soren, kissing him.
“We both know you want me,” Kurt purred. “Now you can have me.”
Rubbing across Soren’s crotch, Kurt began running his tongue across Soren’s body. The rough barbs scratched against Soren, relieving itches he didn’t even know existed. He’d never thought of Kurt like this… yet somehow this felt so right.
Well… almost right.
Cupping Kurt’s butt, Soren guided the neko more securely on top of him. Kurt’s weight pressed down on him, covering him in a heavy blanket of fur. A shuddering moan escaped Soren — if there was a paradise, surely this was it.
Rough bark scratched his back, but Soren didn’t care. This had to be a dream, but if it was, he never wanted to wake up.
Their bodies slid together. Hands explored every inch of their bodies, yet it still wasn’t enough. And at the same time, it was too much.
Kurt buried his face in Soren’s chest, letting out a muffled yowl as hot seed spurted from him. His shuddering brought Soren to the edge, and with a breathless grunt, Soren came.
His eyes shot open at a sudden click. Light streamed across his face, and Soren bit back a groan. Shielding his eyes from the light as the door closed, he glanced around, taking in the dark room… Kurt’s room.
“Fuck…”
Worse, his leg was damp. He could feel cooling stickiness against his thigh.
“Fuck…!”
He actually came. Soren shook his head in disbelief. Of course, his first wet dream would be at a friend’s house… and how did he even get here, anyway? Something about Khenbish?
The door creaked open again. A brindle wolf nosed her way inside. She paused, staring at Soren for a moment. Padding over to the closet, Kurt began digging for a set of clothes before dragging them out of the bedroom. The door remained open behind her, offering Soren some light.
Crawling out of bed, Soren took a moment to collect himself.
“Okay… you’re in Kurt’s house. You were sick…” he muttered. “Kurt must have been worried. But you’re better.” He winced as he stretched — his shoulders protested every motion with a dull ache. “Better-ish.” At least he wasn’t puking. Though the taste in his mouth said he had been. “Probably can’t sneak out.”
No, he was here for the long haul. But how was he going to hide the stain in his pants?
A horrifying thought struck him. Werewolves could smell! What if Kurt had smelled his semen already? Or worse, Khenbish? Soren shuddered. Maybe there was a way he could sneak out — he did not want to come face to face with Khenbish in this state.
A loud bark tore through his thoughts. Before Soren could react, his worst fears came true.
“Good morning,” Khenbish said, stepping into the room. “Don’t mind Khurtschono. She’s in a mood this morning. I see you’re up and about early. Are you feeling better?”
“Yes, sir.” Soren angled so the spot on his pants wasn’t as noticeable. Not that it would stop the werewolf’s sense of smell. “I’m feeling a lot better.”
“Excellent. You should probably stay home for a day or two to make sure you don’t spread anything. But if you’re anything like my kids, staying home won’t be an option, so wearing a mask will help.”
“I… um… I don’t have a mask….”
“We have plenty here. Just ask Skylar.”
It must be a gift the Chonos had, making him feel small. They just kept offering Soren things he had no way of paying for.
“They’re free for anyone at the hospital, so I like to stock up in case one of us gets sick,” Khenbish added. “It cuts down on the risk of spreading an illness.”
“Oh… thanks.”
“And you’re more than welcome to take some breakfast home with you.”
Yelling at Khenbish to stop offering things would be bad manners, right?
“I’ll do that.” Soren smiled weakly. “Thanks for your help.”
“It was our pleasure.” Khenbish returned his smile, giving the neko’s face a surprising brightness. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go speak with Altanchono.”
Soren nodded quickly, trying not to act too relieved. He followed Khenbish from the room and turned toward the kitchen.
“I don’t care how it happened or the intent behind it. And Khurtschono, go muck the stalls or you’ll be late for school.”
Catherine’s sharp words brought Soren to a stop in the hallway. Khenbish glanced back at him and motioned for Soren to keep walking.
“Family business,” he said.
Nodding shakily, Soren hurried to the kitchen, where Skylar and John were cooking. A hand pushed him from behind, directing him toward the back door.
“Um… your father told me to get a mask from Skylar.”
Kurt grunted behind him and stormed into the kitchen. Soren heard the fridge door open.
“Really, Khurtsaa?” Skylar demanded.
“Pickles,” Kurt grumbled.
“At least eat it like a normal person.”
Kurt returned a moment later, sucking on a pickle. Soren’s face burned as he watched the pickle slide in and out of Kurt’s mouth. He was distracted a moment later when the neko shoved a mask at him. Slipping the mask on quickly, Soren followed Kurt to the back door, trying to keep a good distance from him without seeming like he was trying to avoid him. Whatever had the neko angry did not bode well for Soren.
“Do you need help with the horses?” he offered uncertainly.
“Yeah, that would be great,” Kurt muttered around the pickle, shoving his feet into a pair of rubber boots. “There’s a spare set of boots for you. You can’t be barefoot around the horses.”
Soren stepped into the boots quickly, grimacing at the feel of rubber around his feet. Each step pinched his feet, the undersized boots fighting his every move. But at least he wouldn’t have any horses crushing his feet. Hopefully.
“I’m not mad at you,” Kurt said suddenly as they headed out to the stalls. “Just pissed at Altanchono.”
“Oh.” That made him feel a bit better. “Is there anything I can do-”
“Yeah, stay away from him.”
“Okay?”
Kurt let out a sharp breath. He clicked on the barn lights, eliciting a series of soft nickers from the horses.
“I’m sorry. I just… He fucked up. But I’m not allowed to say how. Ma won’t let me.”
“I’m sure she has a reason.”
“Yeah. Doesn’t make me any happier,” Kurt muttered, opening the barn door.
She shoved a rake at Soren. Following Kurt into a stall, Soren began shovelling the manure into a wheelbarrow. The stalls didn’t look that dirty, but he trusted Kurt. If the neko said they needed to be cleaned, then they needed to be cleaned.
“Are you feeling better?” Kurt asked.
“Yeah. A little surprised to wake up here, but I’m feeling okay now.”
“You told us it was okay to bring you here.”
“I don’t remember that at all, but I guess I did.” Soren shrugged. “I hope I didn’t cause too much trouble.”
Kurt echoed his shrug.
“Nothing that was your fault. Can you go refill the trough in the field? It should take three minutes and ten seconds to reach the top.”
“Sure.”
Soren returned his rake to the barn and went out to the field. Two fences closed off the Chonos’ land, one within the other. The barn lights threw several horses into sharp relief against the predawn light as they strolled through the inner fence, picking at the hay Kurt offered for breakfast.
Grabbing a coiled hose, Soren dragged it over to a half-filled bucket. He dumped the water out before dropping the hose in. A minute later, fresh water flowed into the bucket. Soren sat on a nearby boulder, picking at a fleck of gold as he waited for the bucket to fill.
“Hey.”
Soren’s head shot up. Altanchono stood by the rock, his tail ruddering behind him. His ears were pulled back, and he kept avoiding Soren’s gaze.
“I… Ma says I need to apologise to you,” he muttered.
“For what?”
Soren’s question hung thick in the air. He could feel Altanchono’s discomfort, growing by the second.
“It’s fine,” he said, turning back to the water. “Whatever it is, don’t worry about-”
Altanchono grabbed Soren’s head and pulled him into a kiss. Startled, it took Soren a moment to push the neko back.
“What the fuck?”
“Sorry….” Altanchono stared at his feet. “I had to try.”
“Try what?” Soren demanded. “I’m not into you Altanchono. Besides, you’re way too young-”
“You’re my mate!” Altanchono blurted. “I… you’re my mate… and I… kind of… was humping you while you slept? I didn’t mean to,” he added hastily. “I just wanted to cuddle with you last night and it just… kind of happened.”
“No.”
“I mean, you feel it too, right? You grabbed my butt last night-”
“No. Absolutely not,” Soren repeated. “I’m not your mate. Find someone your own age.”
“But-”
Soren left before Altanchono could protest.

“Altanchono’s staying home today.” Kurt slammed the car door shut and started the engine. She glanced over at Soren, who leaned against his window. “Are you okay?”
Soren shrugged.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He shook his head. There was nothing to talk about. Well… maybe there was, but he couldn’t put the feelings rushing through him into words. Best to just bury them for now.
“Well… I’m here if you need to get anything off your chest,” Kurt said as they pulled out of the drive. “I mean, I can’t believe he’d pull this shit. Ma and Aav are always talking to us about making sure people want to-”
“Kurt. Please.”
“Right. Sorry.” Kurt eyed Soren as a bus passed them. “You know, I don’t have to escort him around campus today. We could ditch if you want. Go explore the town.”
Ditch school? He’d never really thought of that. But wasn’t that what normal teens did all the time? Besides, time alone with Kurt would be nice.
“I honestly haven’t explored much of Astara beyond the area around the school,” Soren admitted.
“Skylar and I were looking at a laser tag place a few days ago.” Kurt glanced at Soren as they slowed to the customary crawl just outside of the city. “Or we could go to a park. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing so many trees.”
How long had it been since Soren had just let himself go? No hunting, no training for a race, just enjoying himself as a wolf?
“Both sound amazing,” he admitted. “But I don’t have-”
“-any money?” Kurt finished for him. “Neither do I. Don’t worry about it. Altanchono and I are always sneaking into places. We just have to hope there’s a large party at the arena today.”
“Me? Sneak?” Soren let out a snort. There was no way he could sneak anywhere unless he was in wolf form. “Okay, if you think we could get in, I guess I’ll trust your judgement.”
“Great! We’ll drop John off first, then head to the laser tag. The earlier the better; everyone’s still trying to wake up.”
Kurt grinned, leaving Soren with an uneasy feeling. There was no way this would end well. But he couldn’t deny the slight thrill he felt buried deep inside. Maybe this really would be fun. At least it would keep him from thinking about the previous night.

Copyright © 2023 Yeoldebard; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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