Shadow Tales

by L. J. Hamlin

  Travis wraps one arm around Jamison's waist and can't resist grabbing a handful of firm ass and lifting him up so he can feel every inch of Jamison's body.

  When Jamison abruptly stops kissing him, Travis complains with a grumble, but when Jamison goes to his knees, Travis thinks maybe he better quit complaining. Jamison doesn't reach for Travis's zipper, though. He lifts Travis foot and unlaces his boot, pulling it off, and then does the same with the other one before standing up again.

  "If I'm going to be bat shit insane and leave with you, I want my deposit back. No dusty biker boots on the carpet," Jamison says.

  Then Jamison grabs him by the front of his belt and tugs him in for another kiss. Travis makes the most of the kiss, deepening it and getting his hands back on Jamison's ass. When Jamison breaks the kiss to take a deep breath, Travis moves his lips to the long line of his neck. He feels like a vampire, not a bear, because he just wants to sink his teeth in and mark Jamison up, but he settles for leaving a hickey instead, sucking marks into Jamison's pale skin, his dick twitching at the beautiful little sounds of pleasure Jamison makes.

  "I don't care where we fuck, but I have lube in my bedroom, so I suggest we go there now. Otherwise, the way I feel, I'll do something stupid, like try to take you without it. I can feel you against my hip, and that'd be a bad idea," Jamison says in a breathy rush.

  Travis grins. "Lead the way."

  Most of the small bedroom is taken up by a well-made bed; Jamison was never a messy guy. He goes over to a box of stuff on the floor and gets out a tube of lube, throwing it on the covers. He starts undressing, without a hint of shyness.

  Travis walks over, grabbing Jamison while he still has his shirt over his face, tangled around his arms, trapping Jamison for a second, but Travis doesn't want Jamison to panic, so he pulls the shirt off quickly and tosses it aside.

  "What are you doing?" Jamison asks, sounding a little annoyed.

  "Undressing you. As much as I'd like to watch you strip, I want to be an active participant in getting you naked," Travis growls.

  "I should have known you'd be bossy." Jamison rolls his eyes, but he reaches out and pushes Travis's heavy jacket off his shoulders. It hits the floor with a soft thump.

  "Oh darlin', you haven't seen anything yet." Travis grins, grabbing Jamison by his belt and tugging him closer before he starts undoing the buckle and buttons.

  "I'm not a kid anymore. I know what I was like back then, trying to keep everyone happy, so eager to please. But that really didn't work out for me. It's time I started doing what I want." Jamison wriggles out of his jeans with surprising ease, considering how tight the dark denim is.

  "And what do you want?" Travis asks, stripping off his shirt, hoping that Jamison is on the same page as he is. There was always a connection between them, but they need to relearn it and figure out how it fits in to their lives as adults. But not now. The moon is calling, and Travis just wants a taste of a man he's always wanted.

  "I want to make up for the life I could have had if I'd left with you. I know one harvest moon won't make up for everything I could have had, but it's a start," Jamison says softly.

  "I can't promise you things will be perfect if you come with me, but I can promise that I'll never steal from you, that I'll never pick someone over you. You're irreplaceable to me. In all the time we've been apart, no one has meant to me what you did; no one's gotten inside my walls like you always did. I can't promise you an ideal life, but I can offer you a hell of a ride, and that I'll always catch you."

  "I don't have much to offer in return," Jamison replies, looking downcast.

  Travis wraps his arms around Jamison's bare waist and kisses the smooth skin of his shoulder. "You never saw what I did when I looked at you. I was always floored by you and how deep your kindness ran. Even when I hated the world because of my family, I didn't hate you. Jamison, you made a miserable life bearable." Travis kisses him. He'd been living each day thinking he might die, that his dad would take things too far and kill him, afraid to fight back even as he got bigger. The only bright spot in his life had been Jamison.

  "Come on, just kiss me. I don't want to be sad tonight. I want to spend the harvest moon like a were is meant to: naked with another were, one I care about. I used to dream of a night like this, just us together, with no one to stop us." Jamison presses closer, and Travis doesn't need to be told twice. He kisses Jamison and walks them over to the bed. He lowers Jamison down and follows him.

  They kiss deeply, stripping off the rest of each other's clothes, casting them carelessly aside, and Travis is pretty sure they knock over a lamp, but it makes no difference, as they hadn't turned it on. The room has a window, and it's letting in the light of the harvest moon. It shines on their bodies, and it almost feels as if it heats their skin like the sun.

  Jamison's hands skim across his ribs, tracing over the scars he made accidently all those years ago. He even leans down and kisses them, and the tingling intensifies, going off like a firecracker under his skin, almost like an orgasm, but without coming.

  "I'm still so sorry I hurt you," Jamison says softly, ghosting his fingers over the scars.

  "Don't be. I like being marked by you. It's like a reminder of the good times we had. And now, tonight, it feels good. I know that sounds crazy, but it feels amazing when you touch the scars," Travis admits.

  "Like this?" Jamison asks, pressing his hand to Travis's scars, and Travis groans as his skin goes tight and pleasure pounds through his blood. It's like he has a fever, but unlike any he's felt before: no pain, just pleasure.

  "Yeah, damn, I don't know what you did to me, Jay. Never heard of a bobcat's scratch doing that before, but I'm not complaining." Travis kisses Jamison again, and they make out. Things get heated quickly, and Travis is thinking about pushing for more when Jamison grabs the lube and straddles Travis's waist.

  "Damn," Travis growls roughly as Jamison's hand moves between his own legs. Travis can't see too well, but he knows Jamison is opening himself up, getting himself slick with the KY.

  "You want to be on top?" Travis asks, hand on Jamison's hip, unable to stop touching while he's allowed to.

  "I want to ride you. Is that too passive for a big bad ass biker bear like you?" Jamison raises an eyebrow.

  "I'm cool with you riding me, but I wouldn't call being on the bottom passive." Travis smirks, rolling his hips up so his dick rubs against Jamison's ass.

  "Show off." Jamison rolls his eyes, but he sounds breathless, more affected than he's letting on.

  Travis is ready to make some smartass comment, when Jamison steals the words off his tongue, right out of his mouth. Jamison lifts up, wraps a hand around Travis's cock, and starts taking him inside. Travis's head falls back, and he swears the moonlight gets brighter as he lets Jamison lead, slowly sinking down till their bodies are flush.

  "Always knew you'd be big," Jamison pants.

  "You thought about my dick?" Travis asks, voice tight as Jamison starts to rock gently, getting used to Travis's size.

  "Don't get a big head, but I had my first orgasm thinking about you inside of me like this. I used to jerk off thinking about you. You'd never change in front of me. I was so pissed at that." Jamison laughs, grinding down, then lifting up, and the moonlight looks beautiful on his tanned skin.

  "I used to jerk off thinking about you, too. Thinking about when you turned eighteen. And I'm sorry, I just didn't want you to see all the marks." Travis doesn't want to focus on that memory, on how he'd had so many bruises. He'd been ashamed back then of the abuse, but over the years, he's grown to know it wasn't his fault. He's not ashamed about what happened anymore. He's angry.

  But anger has no place here, in this room with Jamison, so Travis wraps his hand around Jamison's cock and starts stroking along to Jamison's thrusts.

  "No more saying sorry. We both messed up, but we're here now," Jamison says roughly, and Travis uses the hand not stroking Jamison intimately to pull him down for a kiss. The muscles of
Jamison's back ripple like a wave under his hand as they kiss and fuck.

  It's better than Travis ever imagined. There's sweat and misplaced limbs. They lose rhythm at times, but it's real. He can feel Jamison's skin, his heat, Jamison's breath on his neck making him shiver. It's better than any perfectly choreographed porn scene, which was what he'd based his first fantasies of Jamison on.

  "I'm going to come," Jamison gasps as Travis rolls his hips, thrusting hard and deep.

  Travis rubs a thumb over the head of Jamison's cock, making him jerk and moan. Travis keeps stroking, keeps thrusting, while Jamison rides him hard, body not keeping any kind of time, but Jamison is moaning like he's never felt so good. And Travis can't help but feel smug when Jamison comes first, spilling over Travis's hand and stomach.

  Jamison slumps forward, and Travis rolls them over so that Jamison is beneath him. Then he pushes back inside of Jamison gently. He thrusts hard and fast, and the nails of one of Jamison's hands dig into Travis's shoulder, and the other hand runs over his scars, over and over, making the fever build.

  Travis comes with a choked off moan, kissing Jamison hard, like he always wanted to. Things go still when they stop moving, and Travis pulls out carefully. For a few moments there's nothing but their breathing, but then Travis feels the moon's call starting to build again, and he knows they're far from done for the night.

  *~*~*

  He wakes up feeling tired and sore, his hips tender, but the call of the moon has passed, and the room is filled with morning light. Travis sits up sharply when he realizes he's alone in bed. He can still smell Jamison's scent on the sheets and his own skin, but things are missing from the room. The closet is open, and clothes are gone. Travis panics for a moment, thinking maybe he did something wrong, or that without the haze of the moon, Jamison's decided he doesn't want Travis in his life.

  But then he hears a noise in the next room, and he gets up to find Jamison wearing nothing but cotton sleep pants, packing away his things.

  "You're packing?" Travis asks, and Jamison jumps a little, like he hadn't heard Travis come into the room.

  "I figured if I was already packed by the time you got up, you'd have to take me with you." Jamison bites his lip nervously.

  Travis stalks over, taking the shirt from Jamison's hand and putting it down before he wraps his arms around Jamison's waist and pulls him close.

  "I want you with me. I meant what I said last night, every whisper. Me and you, we're going to have the adventure we should have had when we were teens, and then maybe find somewhere to settle down," Travis says, and he kisses Jamison sweetly.

  "I didn't think you'd lie to me about wanting those things, but I was worried you were caught up in excitement, in the harvest moon. I meant what I said, too. I'm ready to leave with you, to take a chance," Jamison says softly, and then he leans up and kisses Travis.

  Travis holds Jamison close, and he's just as beautiful in the morning light as he had been in moonlight. Travis wants to see him every morning and every night, for the rest of his life.

  I'm A Ferocious Mouse

  One of the first things Quinn had done when he moved into a new town was find a shifter bar. That was after he'd found a place to live and a place for his motorbike repair shop, which ended up being the same place. He lives over the shop. But a shifter bar is important to Quinn because it's a place he can go to relax with his own kind.

  Quinn is a lion shifter, and his amber eyes and wild blond hair often give a hint to people that he's not human. His strength, if they see it, is a giveaway, but even when he's not being obvious, Quinn isn't exactly subtle in appearance: tall, muscular, usually dressed in leather.

  And some humans fear what he is. He can smell it even if they try to hide it. He hates that scent. And then there are the humans who hate shifters, who think they shouldn't have the same rights as humans. It's nice to go to a bar where he's neither feared nor hated for what he is.

  It's his fourth Saturday in a row at the Tin Cat bar. He's sitting at a table, minding his own business, people watching while he waits for his food, which is pretty good for bar food. Quinn drains the last of his beer and puts the bottle down on the wooden table. Only seconds later, one of the bar staff appears.

  Tyler is five foot nothing, with brown hair and emerald green eyes. He's a cute little thing, and he's been sweet to Quinn since he first started coming in. He's chatty but not nosy, attentive but not overbearing. He can also be a bit of a flirt, which Quinn likes when it's aimed at him. He doesn't know if the mouse shifter means it, though, because he's so nice to everybody.

  "Another beer, handsome?" Tyler asks, with a cute little smile.

  "Yeah, same again, please, darling," Quinn replies. Even if all they ever do is flirt, it's not hurting anybody.

  "Such good manners. Someone raised you right." Tyler grins.

  "Thank you. My momma would be pleased to hear you say that." Quinn smiles back.

  "I'll be right back with your beer, and it's about to be my ten minute break. Think I could spend it with you?" Tyler says.

  "Of course you can join me. Get yourself a drink on me, too," Quinn says, feeling pretty pleased with himself.

  "Back in a jiffy," Tyler says happily. He always seems happy, which is remarkable given that food service is hard, thankless work.

  Tyler heads for the bar, and Quinn watches him go. He's wearing a red t-shirt and black jeans. The black jeans look great on his perky ass. It's not the first time Quinn has checked it out. This time, though, someone notices: a group of werelions that have been giving Quinn dirty looks all night.

  All three of them get up and approach Quinn's table. He doesn't stand up, just puts his legs out, crosses his ankles, and folds his arms over his broad chest. They're big, but Quinn isn't intimidated. He's faced far worse than bullies.

  "It's bad enough you moving into our territory, but we're not going to sit in our bar and watch you flaunt that you're a faggot," the leader of the group says. Quinn thinks he heard one of the others call him Greg.

  "Well, that's simple enough. Don't drink here, or don't look."

  "This is our bar," Greg snarls.

  "Funny, I thought the owner was a cheetah shifter named Anne," Quinn replies.

  "Don't get smart. We've been coming here for years, and you show up and think you can gay up the place? It's bad enough they have that mouse prancing about, but a lion? A queer lion? We don't want your kind here." Greg spits, and then he goes to kick Quinn's legs, clearly planning to topple him over, but Quinn is quicker on his feet than that, and he avoids the kick and jumps to his feet, ready to pounce.

  "I think you should take your friends and go sit down before you regret it," Quinn growls. He can see people moving around, watching them, expecting a fight.

  "I'm not afraid of some pussy faggot who takes it up the ass. I think you should get out of my bar, you goddamn fairy," Greg says, snarling, showing his teeth.

  "What are you? Some throwback hillbilly? It's 2015. The only people who think anal makes you less of a man are closet cases." Quinn smirks, and he knows the second Greg understands the full insult.

  Greg takes a swing at him, but Quinn ducks. Quinn is about to throw a punch back when Tyler appears. He pushes through the gathering crowd and the angry men to stand between Greg and Quinn.

  "Anne doesn't like fighting in her bar. Unless you want to get banned, I suggest you cool it. And you three can leave for starting it." Tyler points to Greg and his friends and then the door.

  "Why should we leave and he stay? Because you want to fuck him?" Greg sneers.

  "You tried to punch him—he didn't. And who I want to fuck is none of your business. You know, you seem awfully interested in the sex lives of gay men for someone who says he hates gay men." Tyler raises an eyebrow, one hand on his hip.

  Greg lunges, but Quinn's ready, and he shoves Greg away from Tyler, who once again gets between them and stops them fighting.

  "Really? You two are lions. Are you going to ma
ke a mouse keep separating you? Isn't that beneath you?" Tyler asks.

  Quinn takes a step back, holding his hands up but keeping his attention on Greg and his friends in case they attack.

  "You can't ban us," one of Greg's friend pipes up.

  "Yes, I can. Now take your friend and get out of here before I call security," Tyler orders. He's between two men much bigger than he is, but he doesn't look afraid. Shifters are all stronger in their human form than an actual human, but the level depends on their animal. A mouse shifter would stand no chance against a group of lions.

  Greg goes to attack Quinn again, but his friend grabs him. They leave, not looking at all happy.

  Quinn sighs as everyone goes back to what they were doing before they stopped to watch the fight breaking out. "I'm sorry about that."

  "It's fine. I know you didn't start it. But I did use up my break. Can we grab a drink after my shift? If you're still interested?" Tyler looks hesitant, like he thinks Quinn will have changed his mind.

  "I'm still interested. My food should be here soon. When does your shift end?" Quinn asks.

  "About an hour. Is that okay?" Tyler asks.

  "That's fine." Quinn takes his seat again. Tyler brings him another beer before going back to work.

  Quinn plays on his phone, checking some emails till his hot wings arrive. He eats without being disturbed, drinks his beer, plays a game on his phone, and before he knows it, Tyler's coming over with two beers. Quinn pushes out a seat for him, and Tyler sits down with a smile.

  "Managed to keep out of trouble while I was away this time?" Tyler teases.

  "I don't want you thinking I'm some kind of thug. I'm a big guy, and I know the kind of reputation lion shifters have, and yeah, I would have hit that guy if you hadn't stopped me… but… I'm not explaining myself well. It's just that I like you. I'd like to see more of you. I don't want you thinking that if you agree to a date that I'm going to be getting in fights all over the place," Quinn says.