Lord Alfred Blakely was nervous as he was ushered into the room. As a leading member of one of the Clans, he was not used to the feeling, but among the loose community which made up the Others, the Shreen were the top of the food chain. Even Changelings like himself were afraid in the presence of the Shreen.
“How goes the project?” asked the room’s sole occupant: a severe-looking Asian woman with paper-white skin, and whose eyes were such narrow slits, that few ever saw her pupils.
“Madam Ching,” Alfred said with a bow. “It is still quite early, but so far, the institutes have expressed their desire to cooperate.”
Ching Shenchi did not even look up from the laptop she was typing on. Neither did she invite the British aristocrat to sit. It never even occurred to her to do so.
“It has come to my attention that there was some… excitement last night over on the Bois de Boulogne, something involving a hysterical young man who claimed to have seen a… ahem, a werewolf. The police were even called in. Have you lost control over your Clan, Changeling?”
“No, madam Ching. We have taken care of it, I assure you.”
The woman looked up at last, and raised a thin eyebrow at him.
Alfred continued, “His blood sample showed levels of some psychotropic drug. Cocaine, I believe. So typical of youths these days, unfortunately. The press were not even remotely interested, I assure you.”
Ching Shenchi nodded in approval, “I trust such incidents will not happen again? The Council is very busy dealing with the Americans, and will not tolerate distractions.”
“Of course, madam. I assure you: everything is perfectly under control.”
“Indeed? The US military now has genetic evidence that some of us exist. And just last night, one of your Clan was seen in a public park. Was not the decree clear? The penalties for exposing ourselves are even harsher now. If you cannot control the members of your Clan, the Council will have to step in. Do you understand?”
“Of course, madam. I assure you: nothing like this will ever happen again.”
Ching returned to her laptop and began typing away. After a few seconds, Lord Blakely realized he had been dismissed. Bowing, he made his way toward the door and let himself out, breathing a sigh of relief as he closed it behind him.
* * *
Arnaud stared at the data with growing excitement, his hands trembling at the implications of what he was seeing, “Are you sure, Marie?”
“Oui, monsieur,” the technician beamed. “I checked and double-checked this morning. Even though it’s a Saturday,” she said pointedly. “The sample has remained stable for the past three days.”
“But it doesn’t make sense. What’s different now?”
“You’re almost two centuries old,” the technician, Mme. Marie Beauregard sighed a little enviously, “but you’re still a man, and just as ignorant as a mere human male. Fortunately for you, though, I’m human, I’m female, and naturally possess superior intelligence.”
“True,” Arnaud beamed, meaning it from the bottom of his heart. “So. What is your explanation?”
Before she could reply, the door to the lab opened, and someone walked in.
It was Tristan.
“Oh. I’m sorry,” Tristan stumbled a bit over his words. “I thought... Dr. Lupin? Could I have a word with you when you’re available?”
“What are you doing here on a Saturday?” Arnaud asked.
“I, uh… I’m sorry,” Tristan mumbled, turning red. “I’ll uh… I’ll make an appointment for next week, instead. Madam,” he bowed to Marie, then walked away.
“Like I said,” the chief technician sighed as she watched Tristan walk away, “you’re just as ignorant as a human male.”
“The hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You are one of the pure, with ancestors on both sides who were Changelings. As I understand your life-cycle, after two or three centuries, your kind find it harder to maintain your human form. By the fourth century at the latest, you can no longer transition, becoming the other thing permanently. Similar to the way caterpillars permanently become butterflies,” she smiled.
She continued. “It’s what the reserves are for, non? But others, especially the Half Breeds – which the British Clans call the Impure – do not undergo permanent transition, able to switch till the end of their life-cycles. Look at the neurochemical analysis of your brain. What do you see differently?”
“Elevated levels of… the same.”
“Look again,” she said.
“Oxytocin and vasopressin?”
She smiled, “It’s associated with higher forms of love, in case you forgot. Found in those who have monogamous relationships and genuinely trust their partners.”
“But…”
“Regardless of the species,” she sighed, “males will always be dumber than females.”
“So you think I don’t have to change permanently?”
“Who knows? Only time can tell. This is all so new.”
With this news, Arnaud ran out of the lab.
“It’s true, then,” Marie sighed to herself as she began shutting down the equipment. “Love truly does conquer the beast.”
* * *
Arnaud’s sense of smell found Tristan’s trail, showing that the young man was making his way toward the main exit on the Rue du Docteur Roux.
He sped up, and sure enough, the beautiful one with the sad, blue eyes was hunched over as he made his way toward the main gate. It had just started raining, but his new recruit didn’t seem to notice.
Arnaud was tempted to just let him go. It would be unprofessional. What would people think if they found out? Besides, he was 192 years old. He sighed, and walked back into the building.
* * *
Tristan’s heart was breaking.
What was he thinking? Mr. Lupin had taken him to his place the night of his First Change, then made love to him. At least that’s the way he had thought of it. But that was the last he saw of the man till today.
Tristan sighed. What the hell could someone like him have to offer a man like that? He made his way past the gate and onto the street, just as the rain fell. Tristan felt grateful, for it hid the tears he could no longer hold back.
As he turned right on Boulevard Pasteur, a car honked at him.
He jumped.
Then he smelled the special scent. It was him. Arnaud.
The front passenger door opened, and he jumped in, smiling for the first time in days.
* * *
Tristan lay naked on his back, as he stroked Arnaud’s hairy torso above him, reveling in the softness of his hair and the hardness of his body. He had begged and pleaded for this on their first night together, but the older man had refused.
“It’ll hurt,” Arnaud warned him again.
“I don’t care. You said we have a high threshold level for pain. I want you to be my first.”
Arnaud bent down and kissed him, amazed at how beautiful he was. Poor Tristan had no idea how good looking he was, always retreating behind his secret and his shyness. The older man had lubed himself as much as he could, but he was still hesitant, still afraid of hurting the younger man.
Tristan wrapped his legs around Arnaud’s waist, and began drawing him in, while his hands held fast to Arnaud’s face, not wanting the kiss to end. He pulled away as the massive cock pushed past his tender opening, his face screwed up in pain.
Arnaud stopped, but Tristan growled and pulled him in deeper. Arnaud resisted, content to stay a bare inch inside Tristan’s tight ass, rotating his hips to give the younger man the time he needed to adjust. When he felt the opening relax, he pushed in deeper, stopping once more when Tristan tensed.
It took long minutes, but finally, he was all the way in, his groin pressed firmly against Tristan’s ass. He bent down again and began kissing the young man, tongue fucking his mouth till the medical student began moaning once more.
Tristan’s ass was so tight from his opening all the way in, it felt like a glove around his entire cock. Arnaud gritted his teeth to keep from pummeling him, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could restrain himself. The smell of nuts and cookie dough became stronger.
When Tristan finally pulled away, his eyes were purple, but save for that, he maintained his human form. He nodded at the older man, tightening his legs around Arnaud’s waist.
Arnaud growled, but to his surprise, his torso did not elongate, neither did his fangs grow longer. Looking down at his hands, he saw that he could will them to remain as they were, not turn into claws. Wherever Tristan’s hands and flesh touched him, they remained human.
But Tristan was getting impatient. He began undulating on the bed, trying to get his—lover?—deeper into him, tightening and loosening his ass around Arnaud’s shaft.
Mr. Lupin needed no further encouragement. He growled again, louder this time, and began pumping into the hot, tight ass.
Tristan hissed and leaned his head back, beginning to enjoy the slow fucking. Before long, he began writhing harder as he felt his orgasm begin to build up behind his groin. It was amazing. He wasn’t touching his own cock, but it still felt as if it were being stimulated. His eyes widened in amazement as the pleasure built.
Arnaud lowered himself, letting the hairs of his sweaty torso rub up against the underside of Tristan’s shaft. He smiled as the younger man groaned. When Tristan began pushing up against him, he knew his chosen was getting close.
Raising himself up, he began pummeling into Tristan, shaking him each time he slammed into him, making the bed tremble. He enjoyed the sight of his chosen sweating and moaning beneath him, delighted in the vision of his cock disappearing into Tristan’s tight ass.
Tristan began howling, but his face still remained human. His hands gripped Arnaud’s arms tighter and tighter, as more and more pre-cum oozed out of his cock and onto his stomach.
“Harder!” he begged.
Arnaud pumped into him faster and faster, till Tristan screamed and came, shooting thick loads of white cum onto his chest and face. Arnaud bent down to drink it up as he continued to fuck him. He could feel more of Tristan’s spunk shooting against the hairs of his chest and abs, making him even more excited.
Arnaud knew he couldn’t last much longer. With a howl of his own, he shot his spunk into Tristan, giving himself over to an explosion that seemed to go on and on.
With a sigh, he lowered his entire weight onto Tristan’s body, then wrapped his arms around him, determined not to let go.