House Call



Original poster
[WARNING: This RP contains yaoi and is rated M. Most of the smut will be tagged with SPOILERS but yaoi (man on man action) is still heavily implied.]

It was a quiet night, everything was very still. The man sitting in a large recliner in the den of his small cabin slowly lowered the book to his lap. He squinted his eyes, lifted his glasses and rubbed them. It had been a long day, busy but satisfying. But he could see from the clock on the mantel and the darkness outside that it was time for him to get to bed.

Thomas bookmarked the page he was on before he placed the book on the coffee table beside him. He stretched, yawned. So much peace and quiet. He ran his fingers through his long blonde hair before walking across the den to make sure the windows were latched, the doors locked.
Gabe couldn't remember where he was, other than the woods. The woods in America, as opposed to Canada. He'd gotten sloppy. It had been so long since people hadn't been grateful...

The last curse victim he'd put down had been a fairly easy fight, as far as it went. He'd sustained a few bruised bones and scratches, but once more he'd avoided that dreaded bite. A human, this time, one of those crazies that lived out in the woods and hoarded Cold War pamphlets and army rations. He hadn't thought about the family. He'd been going mad for a while, and he'd even heard the wife talking about rabies. Apparently the man had been bitten by a 'rabid dog.' It was the mention of another possible victim that had distracted him in the end. He needed to find out if there was a cursed were in the area before it made a nuisance of itself. He'd been tracking carefully and hadn't even noticed the woman and young man behind him.

They'd given him one hell of a beating, starting with a shotgun full of rock salt to his chest and ending with razor wire wrapped around his wrists. He'd had to feign unconsciousness and wait for them to start digging a trench for his body. Wolf wrists were much smaller than human ones, and he'd been able to slip past the dogs by cowing them into submission. Then he'd run. He'd been running all out, alternating a ground-eating lope with cooling jogs, eating his meals raw and his water freezing cold. Now he was at the last of his stamina, and there was no way for him to tell how far he'd gone. Some small part of him must have smelled civilization, because now he recognized the faint outline of a door. Staggering out of the woods, he shifted, not coherent enough to think of his own modesty-- or lack of. He dragged himself the last few paces to the door...

...and collapsed, limp, against it.
Thomas didn't know what made him pause in closing his bedroom door. He was ready for bed, dressed in blue pajamas and a robe with slippers. He stood there and listened. Was he finally losing it? Had he been imagining things? But something didn't feel right and he couldn't sleep well unless he knew for certain that everything was alright. He walked to the front door first, peered out the window. Nothing.

He sighed softly as he walked away. "Now you're hearing things," he muttered to himself. He rubbed the back of his head. Well. He just had to check the back door and then he was as good as sleeping. He peered out the window beside it, glanced to the back door ... He blinked and quickly unlocked it! When he swung it open, a gust of cold wind made him wince and then he shook himself. He looked around. No one around. He knelt beside the man and checked his vitals.

He looked terrible! But he was still alive ... if barely. With a grunt, he grabbed the man under the arms and began pulling him inside.
Gabe could feel himself moving, but he wasn't sure if his legs were actually functioning. Well, if he was moving, he must be walking, right? Except-- ouch!-- what the heck, a bump? And why were his arms on fire?

He came to just enough to realize that someone was dragging him and let out a hoarse yell, pulling him arms in toward his stomach in a painful attempt to break the stranger's hold. His only real thought was that damned if he'd get buried in a shallow, unmarked grave by a bunch of human rednecks he was only trying to help. The sudden motion of his body ripped open the scars across his wrists and hands, and made his chest burn so painfully that he would have thrown up if there had been anything in his stomach. Dizzy, nauseous, but with adrenaline sloshing through his veins, he struggled upright to face his attacker.

"Fuck if I'll go down 'thout fight'n'," he slurred. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and blinked, trying to force his vision to focus. He could swear he was in rather a nicer house than he first expected. He tried to take a step forward, but his foot caught in something and he stumbled to his knees again, breathing heavy and ragged.
He was conscious! Thomas felt his grip slip and staggered backwards, landing hard on his ass! He winced and clenched his teeth to keep in the whelp of pain that threatened to fire but quickly skidded out of the way! Oh no, he'd brought a madman into his house! He quickly turned onto his hands and knees and crawled as far away as possible, no matter how much his knees burnt. He glanced over his shoulder only when he heard something fall behind him!

He turned to face the man, getting ready to spring to his feet and dash out of the cabin! But as he waited and watched, he reminded himself the man was still wounded! Apparently he was worst off than he thought! "I ... I'm only trying to help you." It was so hard to keep the shakiness, the uncertainty out of his voice. He had to. He was a doctor. And he had to keep his voice low and calm. "You're wounded. I found you at my door."
A doctor? Is that what he said? He, right? Doctor.

Gabe's thought process was completely transparent as he tried to digest this new information. In fact, he both figuratively and literally wavered as he pit the two conflicting desires against each other: fight, flight, or just pass out and listen to the doctor?

He crawled closer to the man warily, until they were practically face to face. Something about his scent... There. Gabe inhaled close to Stephen's neck to be sure. Trustworthy. Confused, probably scared, but someone like him, definitely. Probably even a doctor.

"Okay," he growled. His brown-gold eyes nearly glowed despite being slightly unfocused. "I'll trust you." But he didn't move.
As soon as the man started moving toward him, he backed away--until he came up against the wall! He swallowed and shut his eyes! He was going to die, he was going to die, he was SO going to die! He waited for his life to flash before his eyes but when it didn't ... he opened one eye and then another. His heart stopped when he found himself looking into the deepest brown-gold eyes he had ever seen. He swallowed again. "Umm ... okay ... uh ... but ... ah ... you're going to have to ... give me some ... room ..." He tried to slide past him but stopped. This wasn't working.
Rather than listen to what the good doctor had to say, Gabe was having a small moment to himself. He was safe. Well, relatively safe. There were walls here, and the scent of a lived-in but well kept home. He lowered his head to the doctor's shoulder and slowly relaxed again, rumbling deep in his chest with a combination of relief and weariness.
He was going to die now! He shut his eyes, waiting for that final blow and then ... a purr? Or ... wait! He slowly opened his eyes to find it was the man purring! How strange! He should be scared out of his mind right now except the purring made him feel ... very good?! He swallowed and waited. There was no way he could push the man away. He would only hurt him and the man was built like a brick wall. Maybe if the man fell asleep, he could move away and tend to his wounds. As a doctor, knowing that there were injuries he could dress and treat was irking him!
Gabe slipped easily into unconsciousness, buoyed by the feeling of safety and warmth.


He woke up feeling... nice. Not too hurt. Okay, hurt, but not the burning pain he'd somewhat expected. Rested. Floaty, actually. He moved an arm, only to find it expertly bandaged and sweeping across clean linen sheets. Another sheet and a blanket were tucked neatly over the rest of him, and strips of bandages covered most of his chest. Judging by the intensity of the light, it was later in the day than he normally woke. Much later. And the smells in the room, while comforting, were not familiar.

Gabe slowly clenched and unclenched groups of muscles and rotated his joints, testing for long-term damage. Whoever had treated him had done a good job, and outside of a hospital setting too. He did have some vague memories of deciding to trust another wolf last night, something about doctors and houses. Ah, well. Considering that he wasn't dead, it was a smart move. And since no one was attacking him, he was guessing he'd outmaneuvered and outrun his latest enemies. Stupid humans.

As he slunk out of the bed, he realized that he was in human form with no modesty save the bandages holding him together. He grabbed the sheet and fought with it for a while, finally managing a rough toga to preserve his dignity. If it could be called that, considering that he was now wearing a toga. He tried the door, which swung open easily.

"Hello?" He was starving!
When the door opened, there was the smell of soup and sandwiches. Tuna? Roast beef? Some onions. As if on cue, Thomas poked his head from around the corner. He was wearing a white apron with jeans and a shirt buttoned up to his neck. He adjusted the glasses slipping off his nose. "Oh. You're up! You shouldn't be out of bed!" He quickly came to Gabe's side to check on the injuries. Odd. They had been so fresh, so serious last night and now ... it was like they had healed overnight! No. He'd probably just been seeing things. "But at least you can stand and walk ... Are you feeling dizzy at all? Nauseous? Want to vomit? How about headaches?"
"No, no, no, and no," Gabe answered, edging around the other man. He was already eying what was obviously the kitchen with great fervor. "I feel fine, really. You've got a lot of skill, doc. Never gotten a patch job this good before. Outside a hospital, I mean."

He sniffed in anticipation, trying hard not to drool. The last thing he could remember eating was bark. Tree bark. Pine, maybe. Filling, somewhat, but not very tasty. Actually, kind of nasty. The smells floating around him now were so much more appealing. It was then that, in his haste to find some food, he stepped on the trailing hem of his makeshift toga.

Not very secure to begin with, the entire sheet unwound in an instant and began to slide off his body. Only a curse and a desperate grab at one handful of fabric managed to keep him decent. To his surprise and consternation, he felt warmth creep up the back of his neck. He hadn't been embarrassed to be seen naked in...

...Well, ever! He was a werewolf! Being naked was part of the gig! It wasn't like he had anything to be ashamed of! Why, last month, he'd accidentally been caught clothes-less in the middle of a downtown area by a couple of old ladies going to bingo way too early in the morning! And he'd grinned at them! One of them had winked back!

So why the hell would he start blushing now, when the only other person in the room was another werewolf anyway? And a guy? A nonthreatening one! A DOCTOR.

Angry at himself for being so stupid, he awkwardly wrapped what he could around his lean waist. "You don't have anything that might fit me, do you? And food. Lots of food."
He was about to move to intercept him and get him back to bed. But the look in his patient's eyes and the stark realization that this man, wounded or not, could probably beat him down with one arm tied behind his back, that ... that made him pause. He stuck his hands into his pockets to keep him from nudging him back to bed. "Uh ... Thanks. I ... I think." It sounded like a compliment, at least! Then he began thinking about clothes and food. "Um ... I might. My stuff will probably be too er, tight. But I'm pretty sure I still have things from my dad." He turned and lead the way to the kitchen where there was a small table and two chairs on either side. Just a foot or two away was the counter and on it, the sandwiches Gabe had smelled.

"How about you have a seat and I'll go find them." He placed the plate of sandwiches on the table and even pulled the chair out for him. "Uh ... I have beer and water, if you want." It had been a really long time since he'd entertained a guest!
Although beer sounded tempting, Gabe opted for water as he grabbed a sandwich and watched his host leave. Still using only one hand (the other one definitely needed to keep that sheet up!) he stuffed the entire sandwich in his mouth and chewed busily while he picked up a glass and filled it from the tap. He downed two glasses of lukewarm water so fast it probably would have made the good doctor cringe, then grabbed another sandwich and took rapid bites from it while he looked around.

He found the doctor in a room, rummaging through some boxes. Wait, didn't he say his dad's things? How old was this guy? Packs tended to stick together, but living with your old man this long was a little... well... weird.

"You still live with your old man?" he asked around a mouthful. Right now, this sandwich was better than sex! He rolled his eyes with pleasure as he discovered that the one he had currently had nice, tangy pickle slices inside. And the meat was grade-A, too. In his ecstasy, he let the sheet slip even lower around his hips.
Thomas had been so busy digging through everything that he didn't hear the patient come up from behind! He looked up, then grinned at the tone the man was using. "Uh, no. He passed away about twenty years ago. But Mom insisted on me keeping his stuff. She doesn't trust storage warehouses." He pulled out a few old jeans and some flannel shirts. "Dad was a really big guy so you should be able to fit with no problem." He stood and turned, only to blush and find the floor an interesting thing to look. The sheet around his hips had slipped!

He cleared his throat. "I'm ... just going to go and uh, let you change." He offered the clothes to him.
Seeing the blush on the other man's face was... Well, well, if he wasn't a man he would have said 'cute.' And that one thought made Gabe stop dead in his mental tracks, throwing him off balance yet again. How could someone be so... disarming?

"Yeah, uh, thanks." One hand full of delicious food, he reached automatically with the other, only to remember much too late that it was holding up the sheet.

"Oh, shi--" He made a desperate grab at the thin fabric and then, seeing that he wouldn't catch it in time, snatched the pile of clothes from Thomas's outstretched hands and clutched those to himself instead. "SorryI'lljustgochangeintotheserealquickthanksforfindingthembye!" Resisting the urge to transform, he crammed the remains of the sandwich into his mouth and beat a hasty retreat from the room to find a private place to change. Which was stupid, because he didn't need to be embarrassed. Right? Right!

Part of him wanted to march back into that room naked just to show himself it could be done. Another part just wanted to put clothes on and forget the whole ordeal ever happened. Yet another, albeit smaller part wanted to transform and slink around the house as a wolf, eat as much as possible, and then shamelessly ask for belly rubs before hitting the road again. He compromised by giving himself a few minutes to put on a pair of pants (no underwear to be found) and socks, then slinging the shirt over his shoulder and sauntering casually into the kitchen for another glass of water and food.

"I'll have to prevail on you for a ride to a town with a bank," he called out. "I'll need to get some cash and clothing of my own." See? Things were improving already.
He was left standing in the middle of the room, blinking in disbelief. He couldn't believe what had just happened but now he was having the damnest time getting the image out of his head! He took deep breaths and ran his fingers through his hair. He had to get a hold of himself. He'd never been attracted to another guy before ... and now was not the time to start! He managed to gain a good measure of his composure when Gabe mentioned town and a bank.

"Oh. So you live around here?" Odd. He'd never seen him in town before. "So ... do you live out in the woods somewhere and you rarely go to town?" He decided he couldn't stand here all day. He went back into the kitchen to clean things up.
Gabe followed, determined not to cave to run to a room and howl with bewilderment. He'd wanted for the doctor to ignore the last half hour, but he hadn't actually expected it to happen!

"Well, no, but I use a rather wide-spread company so I assumed I'd be able to find a branch. I, uh... I guess you'd say my job requires me to travel a lot, so I don't have a home base as such." His mother, may she rest in peace, had not taught him to be idle when there were chores to be done. He stood next to Thomas and found a towel to dry dishes with. "Why? Do I look like I live in the woods?"
It was one thing to talk to a man who was in a different room. It turned out to be something else entirely when said man was standing right beside you. Thomas had been doing just fine, washing dishes, wiping counters. Then Gabe had appeared and now every hair on his body was standing on end. Why was his heart racing and his throat suddenly dry? He grinned sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. It's just ... I've never seen you in town and I was certain Patty had introduced me to everyone." He paused. "Then again, I figured maybe you were one of the few who lived in the woods. There's nothing wrong with that, of course. I like living in the woods. It's really peaceful, you know."
"Mmmm." Gabe garnered from this that Thomas was new to the town. Well, that was fine, since it seemed that it made him less suspicious of strange, naked men who showed up on his doorstep with multiple wounds and a penchant for, apparently, running around half-clad. Or not clad at all.

"Actually," he admitted, "if I had a home, it would probably be in or near the woods. Somewhere cold, hopefully. Maybe when I retire." If he lived long enough to retire, which wasn't likely. He followed his host to a car, managing to squeeze into the oddly-fitting shirt on the way. The seatbelt pressed painfully against his chest, and he could feel some bleeding start again, but he ignored it. With his luck recently, he'd get himself unbuckled only to fly through the windshield.

Having lost his wallet due to unplanned emergencies too many times, Gabe had his account number memorized and had no problems with withdrawing enough cash to suit himself, settling with shoving the entire lot into his pockets. It wasn't like he wouldn't be able to track down a thief that stole from him, even on a crowded street. Clothes shopping, though, made him somewhat... uneasy. He had to keep resisting the weird urge to ask Thomas what colors he liked, or if he should get slacks. That kind of thing. It made him irritable and waspish, and he frowned at some perfectly nice sales girls, who gave his pondering form appreciative glances nonetheless.

"Should I bother with boxers?" he muttered to himself, speculatively eyeing a set. He didn't normally, but then he was in a stranger's house...