#wbat

The wolf stopped in his ministrations. It was odder, too, the question, given that Carlos was kneading Lando's arse with clawed hands, nosing aggressively at his shirt to push it up, trailing fangs over Lando's torso. He should have been distracted by all that.

Carlos looked up at him, his wild eyes sharpening into intelligence as he cocked his head. Lando glanced down; his cock was on full display, curved and thick and wonderful, and it was a testament to the strangeness of the question that Carlos had stopped at all.

"Mate, I mean," Lando clarified unhelpfully.

Carlos closed his eyes briefly, and Lando felt the stirring of Carlos's odd wild magic as he willed himself a little more human. The muzzle shrank, the fangs receded slightly, and while he was still distinctly a werewolf, he was more man than wolf. Lando would never get over the ease with which Carlos could transform now. The pain—mental, physical, spiritual—was the real curse, not the wolf.

"Sorry," Carlos said, his growl characteristic of this iteration of werewolf. "Not- mated now?"

He could only use this voice to say so much, and of course he chose to say sorry. Lando rolled his eyes. "No, silly," he said, and he ran his thumb along Carlos's jaw, up over his broader-than-normal mouth, pressing the pad of his finger against one fang. "I mean...mate to..."

Lando blushed. This was embarrassing. But Carlos's face was patient, even as one claw traced the sensitive skin around his asshole. Lando gasped, shivered, gasped again when that claw carefully pressed against him. Christ, it was good with Carlos at every stage of his transformation, it was good with Carlos when he was human, but the disinhibition of the wolf...

"Do you- do you like filling me up, then?" Lando asked instead, and the question was rewarded with Carlos's features becoming more lupine, his eyes shining with a predator's intent. He licked his chops in answer, and Lando moaned.

"Yeah. Yeah...you like it, don't you? Doing it over and over like only you can?"

Carlos growled, deep and dangerous, his sinuous form crawling up Lando's body as his paws spread Lando apart. They were constant, the growls, Carlos's golden-brown eyes narrow as they lined up with Lando's. He started rutting against Lando, penis against penis, and Lando arched his back and cried out. Oh, fuck, he wanted it, he wanted it so bad.

"What if-" Lando panted, and he screwed his eyes shut as Carlos's hot breath warmed his face, then his neck, teeth and tongue caressing as his ruts became more rhythmic, searching, lower and lower until he was nudging Lando's asshole. "God! Fuck. Fuck, fuck, Carlos, what if you could fill me up with your pups?"

A pause. The predator's eyes searching, wide, the growls now higher pitched with curiosity and shock and something more, something Lando's wild magic sought a name for.

"Carlos," Lando said, his voice shaky with need and nerves, "what if- do you- would you want to put your babies in me?"

All that Lando had as a warning was a split-second recognition of tension as the wild magic contracted in his belly—then an explosion of emotion, of recognition, of want and need and protection and possession, as Carlos roared and flipped Lando onto his hands and knees against the cold, slightly damp earth, an instant in which to cry out before he was sundered by Carlos's cock, stretching him, burning him, making him sob in ecstasy. Carlos's handpaw came to rest around Lando's throat, his other handpaw gripping the inside of Lando's thigh as he fucked him raw, fucked him stupid, fucked him like an animal. Lando just wailed the whole time, barely feeling the sting of Carlos's claws breaking the skin of Lando's inner thighs, unable to feel beyond pleasure and-

yesyesyesYESYESYESMINEMYMATEMINEMINEMINE

and

PUPS FOR MY MATE

and

PUPS FOR OUR PACK

Lando wept with it, wept with the pleasurepainpleasure of fucking Carlos when he was like this, Carlos at his most honest and fragile simultaneous, incapable of lying, and oh, Lando wanted it too, he wanted it, he didn't know he had wanted anything like this before, but he wanted Carlos's pups, he wanted Carlos's children, wanted Carlos to fill him up over and over and over until he was dripping and filthy and-

He felt the change, felt Carlos make the decision to become more human again, the paws gripping his thigh, his throat, becoming hands—long fingers, still, hairy and sharp-nailed, the voice more Carlos than growl but still fucking him at that unrelenting, punishing pace, but the growl that burst out of Carlos this time said, "Make you round with my children, make you show everyone you're mine, going to fuck you until you're pregnant and then I'm going to fuck you and fuck you and fuck you until you can't speak, make you so happy, make you mine, mine, my mate-"

"Yours," Lando sobbed, and Carlos clutched Lando to himself, and Lando could not register if he had come already but he could feel the cum start to leak with every thrust, running down his legs, and it was all he wanted, all he wanted. "I don't know- I don't know if I can, but-"

"You can," Carlos moaned, and his voice was completely human, "I know, I know, I could feel it from the start- I didn't want to ask- presume-"

"Put your babies in me," Lando said, and this time it was he who growled, and Carlos—wolf again, vocal cords grinding out some approximation of human syllables—said, "Pack."

After, when Carlos had sated his desire to groom Lando—and his desire to do more, besides, licking every trace of cum off Lando before eating him out, soothing the sting of his overwrought asshole with his tongue—Lando said to Carlos, his voice soft from exhaustion, "I don't know. I don't know if it will work. You know it's hard, it's not...always successful."

"I know," Carlos murmured, because it was the human who had groomed Lando with hungry, aching tongue and still-desperate hands. "But I never thought we would. So you've already made me the world's happiest man."

Lando closed his eyes against the tears that threatened to leak again. "Will you fuck me like that everytime?" he said instead, and Carlos chuckled darkly.

"You know you get to decide that."

"I want to give you a choice!"

Carlos snorted, and when he settled behind Lando, he was already hard again. "I think we both know," he murmured, rubbing the tip of his cock against Lando's asshole, and Lando—despite himself, despite everything—reached back and spread himself for Carlos, "I think we know who makes the decisions around here."