the wolf and his boy
Stuart had been ten when he met the dog that would become his closest companion, closer even than his identical twin brother. He'd 'run-away' because Stiles had accidentally ruined one of his favourite books. Of course runnning away for him meant going into the forest not far from his home and walking for about ten minutes before he curled up under a tree to cry. The large white dog had curled up with him, letting him cuddle close and cry into the dog's fluffy neck. He'd fallen asleep like that, kept safe by the dog guarding him until his dad had found him hours later, scared stiff and so relieved to find his son ok that he didn't fight when Stuart refused to let go of the dog.Â
In the months that passed, the dog was named Peter because he refused to answer to anything else and Stuart confided in his pet about anything and everything, even things he couldn't say to his twin brother. When he realised he liked boys more than girls, it was Peter he told. When he had problems because he was skipping grades at school, it was Peter that comforted him. And when he left for college at 15, he took Peter with him.Â
It wasn't until a few months after Stuart turned 18 that things changed, one day when Stuart woke up in his room, it wasn't to the familiar form of his pet behind him, keeping him warm, keeping him company. Instead there were a pair of strong arms around his waist, a large body laid behind him and warm breath blowing on his neck. Even as unawake as he was, Stuart ignored his morning wood and spun in the man's arms to gape at him. "The fuck!?!"Â
