Junebug Jupiter

You let your overthinking get to you. Maybe this really was a trap. In any case, you had to be prepared.

Meanwhile, Valko was rushing over to you. He’d gotten held up in a stupid meeting that went on for too long, and got out of there as soon as it was over. 

Usually he’d get to you by his usual means of transport, but this time, the situation was dire. 

Hence why he’d decided to shift into wolf form to get to you. 

…

Crack

You hear the sound of a wooden twig snapping behind you, and immediately turn to face the source of the sound, your gun loaded and raised ahead of you. 

Whatever it is—or whoever it is—it’s hidden behind a large bush. You watch it rustle as it makes its way towards you. 

You breath out through your nose. Calm, steady, and prepared for whatever comes out at you. 

That’s when you see a head of dark fur poke out of the bushes. The further it reveals itself, the easier it is to discern what it is: a five foot-something red wolf with piercing yellow eyes. 

You keep your gun raised, but your finger isn’t resting on the trigger anymore, and your guard has lowered. 

You’ve never seen anything like it. You knew wolves were big, but you didn’t expect them to be so massive. This one in particular nearly stood at your height. 

And that’s not to mention the burgundy fur. Red wolves typically had a warmer tone to their hair, but this one looked like it’d been soaked in wine. The richness of the color reminded you of something (someone), but you couldn’t recall what exactly.

You watched it carefully as it approached with calculated steps.

And upon getting a closer look at it, your heart melted. It no longer looked like a predator or a fearsome creature, but rather like an oversized dog. 

You strapped your gun back to your thigh holster and walked up to the beast with your arms held out in front of you. “And who are you?” you smiled while inquiring, as if it could answer you.

He froze in his steps, almost confused. 

Did you not recognize him? He was certain you knew about him being a werewolf… Or did you just think his ears and tail he had in his half-wolf form were decorative? 

He should probably shift back into human form, and get your little meet up over with. But… he couldn’t help himself. So he remained frozen in front of you, letting you approach him instead.

And when you reached him, and rested your hand atop his head, he allowed you to pet him. You nearly gasped at the softness of his fur, and immediately started scratching him all over, trying to find his sweet spot. 

What is she—?

His train of thought was interrupted by a sudden wave of giddiness washing over him. 

“Oh? Found it.” you chuckled, and continued caressing him. “This is where you like being pet, right?”

His eyes closed, and he leaned further into your hand, too overcome with the pleasant sensation to snap out of it and pull away.

Upon hearing the wolf whine softly, and seeing his tail swoosh behind him, your other hand moves down to scratch under his chin. He steps closer, circling you, his fluffy tail brushing up against your leg. 

You nearly squeal from excitement. “You are so cute!” you reach for his face and pat it playfully. 

Valko should really stop. He wasn’t a house dog, he shouldn’t be enjoying this so much. Much less from you, the person he swore was his enemy. But with every gentle caress of your fingers, he was starting to question his perception of you. 

You pull away just enough to be able to see his wagging tail behind him. “You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?” you coo.

Valko’s ears perk up at your words, and his tail starts moving faster.

“Oh? Did you like that?” you raise an eyebrow as you take his reaction in. “Oh yes you did. You’ve probably never been called that before, have you?” you lean in closer, your hand reaching behind and petting it along its back line. “It’s okay, I’ll be the first.” you chuckle.

He unconsciously nuzzles into you, resting his large and heavy head on your shoulder.

You tilt your head sideways, and press your lips against his fur in a soft and playful kiss.

…

Did you just kiss him?

That seems to finally snap Valko out of it. He abruptly pulls away, and runs back off into the woods, leaves rustling behind him for a moment before quieting down, as if he’d never even made an appearance in the first place.

You stand there frozen, trying to process what just happened. Did you do something wrong?

A small pout makes its way onto your face, a little sad at seeing it leave. It really was adorable and seemed friendly. 

After a beat of silence, you sigh, and recompose yourself, standing up straighter, and going back to waiting for Valko. 

“Where the hell is he?” you huff to yourself, before crossing your arms, and leaning back against a nearby large rock.

Well, to answer your question, he was still in your vicinity. Yet you didn’t know that, of course.

He had sprinted out of your field of view, thoughts running just as fast his legs. And when he felt he was in a spot far away enough from you, near a small stream he recognized, he paused to catch his breath. 

Leaning near the water, he shifted back into human form, and observed his reflection. And despite the water rippling from it trickling down the stream, he could see his expression very clearly.

He was red from the tip of his nose, to the tip of his ears. 

Sighing, he brought a gloved hand to rub at the bottom half of his face, as if that would make the blushing go away. But he gives up, and instead brings his other hand to hide his face entirely. He sighs into them.

That was his first kiss.

The first kiss he’d gotten from someone other than his grandma, or any other family member for that matter. 

He felt silly, because by normal standards, that was hardly a kiss. A kiss on the cheek didn't mean much, and he knew some people kissed without romantic intentions. But Valko saw things differently. This first kiss mattered to him. Even if it wasn't on the lips.

He should be angry or frustrated that you stole his first kiss from him, and yet, he couldn’t stop his wagging tail or his twitching ears. 

“... What the hell is wrong with me?” he mutters, unable to understand himself. 

He shouldn’t be feeling like this. Yeah, sure, maybe you were exactly his type (he didn’t even know he had one until he met you), and maybe he found you hot whenever you’d get all confident and sassy with him, and maybe he liked the way you glared at him, and—

He shakes his head, as if to push his thoughts away. He really shouldn’t be feeling this way about you. Not when he knows you hate him. 

He drops his hands from his face and stares back at himself in the water again. He’s calmed down, the redness on his cheeks having disappeared. 

That’s when he suddenly remembers the way your voice turned soft and sultry when you called him a good boy. 

Heat instantly rushes back to his face at the memory. Frustrated at himself for being so… easy, he drags his hands down his face. 

His phone chimes in his pocket, however, and he takes it out to examine it. 

“If you don’t show up in the next five minutes, I’m calling our agreement off.”

He smiles at the sight of your contact on his phone, unable to stop himself. Until he processes your message.

“Shit, I forgot—” He quickly stands up from his squatting position and puts his device away. Turning around, ready to sprint back in your direction, he freezes, and glances at his reflection one last time. 

Reaching down, he splashes his face with water to try and make his flustered state less obvious, before finally running off to find you. 

He nearly stumbles every time he remembers the curve of your glossy lips as you cooed and muttered praises at him, or how your fingers felt as they caressed his weak spots.

But, he somehow manages to get to you in one piece.