Fan Friction

by Savage Rose

  “Oh for goodness— I forgot to set the alarm!” Cheri cried, jumping from the bed and rushing about the room, her delicious curves bouncing as she shimmied into purple lace panties that matched her hair so perfectly it had to be intentional.

  “I’ll get dressed,” Lara said, her tone hollow. She didn’t want to get dressed. She wanted to spend the rest of the day they had together never leaving the bed. Especially if it would mean she could taste Cheri again. But the woman’s obvious distress at the idea of being late to the convention got her up and out of that beautiful bed and into the bathroom where she’d thrown her duffle bag.

  She wasn’t sure what to wear. She’d only brought the one costume, but she couldn’t stand the idea of dressing in her sweatshirt and yoga pants while Cheri rocked another of her stunning looks. Whether there was any point to it or not, she wanted people to see the two of them and not wonder why they were together. She wanted to belong. She’d just have to wear the Wonder Woman outfit again. She tugged on a pair of basic black boyshorts and began the unpleasant process of pulling on that blasted red vinyl top.

  “We won’t have time to break our fast at the French restaurant today, sugar,” Cheri called to her from the bedroom. She appeared in the doorway, asking, “Anything in particular you have a craving for?”

  Lara froze, amber eyes held helplessly by the voluptuous woman, her gorgeous purple hair looking just like it had in Lara’s favorite photo, as if it was mussed from sex. Her hair was mussed from sex… sex they’d had. She thought it fairly certain her heart would explode. Every fiber of her being screamed HER! I WANT HER! She let out a whimper that Cheri seemed to interpret for amiable apathy over the subject of breakfast, because she just smiled, nodded, and went back to the task of dressing that gorgeous body…

  Acting on pure, unadulterated adrenaline-driven instinct, Lara slammed the door shut, feeling the deep pull as her bones began shifting, her claws shredding the red vinyl to tatters. SHIT SHIT SHIT. She couldn’t stop it. Normally, shifting was something she could control at will, and had done so with reasonable grace since her early childhood, like most wolves born into this life. The fact that tomorrow was the full moon was certainly not helping matters any, but this was the stress borne of abject guilt attacking her now, rearranging her organs and making her bite back her moans of discomfort. She deserved this. This and so much more. “Lara?” Cheri’s tone had shifted as well, the concern obvious and only adding to the guilt ripping through her.

  “I’m fine,” Lara lied, focusing hard on keeping her face from shifting— another battle she was quickly losing. Her Wonder Woman corset was completely destroyed, her body was still not under her control, and the love of her life was probably not buying that ‘I’m fine’ line for a second. In frustration, she kicked the wall behind her, freezing as that wall swung open… The DOOR! No no NO! I just kicked the DOOR open! Just shoot me now. She spun to grab the doorknob and hopefully shut the damned thing before Cheri could see her, and found herself eye-to-eye with the woman whose seductively mussy hair was now set into perfect coils.

  “Lara!” she screamed, dark eyes wide, a manicured hand rising to cover her gaping, red-lipped mouth. Oh no no no! “You look incredible!” Uh… WHAT?!? Lara blinked, afraid to so much as breathe, completely at a loss following that unexpected reaction. “That is by far the best werewolf cosplay I’ve ever seen!” Lara looked down at herself, her body finally settled into her usual state of in-between, still relatively human-shaped, covered in her thick pelt, her face more wolf than human, her tail thick and full behind her, her hands still distinctly formed into fingers and an opposable thumb, but tipped with thick, curved claws. Oh my God, she thinks this is a COSTUME! What began as a shocked and even slightly appalled sense of terror quickly shifted into a distinct sense of relief. They were safe. As long as Cheri didn’t know Lara’s truth, they were both safe. The hand that had temporarily covered Cheri’s mouth reached out and stroked the thick brown fur covering Lara’s arm, letting out an approving, “Mmm, it’s so soft!”

  “Thanks,” Lara murmured, turning her face away in embarrassment as she repressed a delicious shiver at the woman’s touch.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “My parents,” Lara answered, inwardly cringing at the way this situation was spiraling out of her control.

  “They really know their stuff!” HA! Oh the freaking IRONY! “You just have to come with me to the signing booth, Lara! Everyone’s going to want to take your picture! It’s perfect advertisement for ‘Werever’! Why didn’t you tell me you had this!” Ohhh shit.

  “I wanted to surprise you,” she lied, hating herself for it.

  “Well, mission accomplished, sugar! Now come on, we can’t let anyone miss this!” Cheri reached for Lara’s hand, no doubt to pull her along as she had become quite accustomed to doing… which made the young werewolf’s heart dance a ridiculously enthused mambo in her chest. But she couldn’t risk the fragile illusion she’d unintentionally crafted breaking, so instead she trotted on ahead. “Wait for me, sugar! I want everyone to know you’re with me!”

  What a drastic change this was from the day before. Despite the fact that Cheri was dressed to the nines in a bright teal dress and purple satin corset, her matching purple hair teased high and set in a striking vintage pin-up style, every passer-by was gawking at the werewolf beside her, surprised smiles and shocked awe apparent from each of them. Lara repressed the overwhelming urge to shudder, feeling more vulnerable than she had the night before, bearing her soul— and body— to the woman with an unknowing death grip on her heart.

  Every time she caught her own reflection, in the glass doors of the convention center or the ridiculously polished chrome of some cosplayer’s shield, she felt a stab of guilt bury itself ever deeper into her heart with a knife called Alexander. What could she tell him when she flew home to marry him? She had already put their packs at risk, and now here she was, parading around and putting every pack, every wolf at risk, all for the love of one woman. Still, when she glanced over at Cheri who gave every appearance of bursting with pride as she walked beside her, she couldn’t help but feel as if her heart was finally where it needed to be. There was such a striking difference in the woman between the day before and now. Gone was that polite, polished smile that didn’t reach her eyes. The woman was pure, beaming radiance now, and it was because of her.

  Reggie was arranging and rearranging the books, promo photos, and arsenal of Sharpie markers at Cheri’s ‘Werever’ booth, and the look on his face as he saw Cheri was one of barely repressed irritation masked with sincere affection, and Lara bristled, the fur along her neck standing up. She heard several comicon attendees gasp appreciatively and noticed a few pointing at her as they muttered to their friends, no doubt in awe of the ‘realistic cosplay’ they mistook her for. She would have to be very careful how realistic she came across if she was going to survive this.

  “Oh thank God you’re here, Cheri! The buzz has been insane since your little announcement last night, and we’re expecting this to be one hell of a crowd. I hope you’re ready for a long haul,” Reggie said, his voice rushed as he ushered Cheri to the seat behind the table. She giggled and patted his arm.

  “I’m ready to sign my name until I forget what it is, Reggie.” He laughed a little too hard at that, running a hand through his bleach-blonde hair self-consciously. Oh yes, he definitely had a crush on her Cheri. Lara smiled despite herself, remembering the feel of the woman’s mouth on hers… Let him have his crush, he wasn’t a threat. The thought was punctuated by the startled cry that left the man’s mouth as he finally registered the werewolf awaiting orders.

  “Jesus Filibuster Christ!” he exclaimed ridiculously. It took a sincere effort not to laugh as he adjusted his horn rim glasses and looked Lara over.

  “You remember my friend Lara,” Cheri said, failing to hold back another giggle.

  “Ah… Wonder Woman, right?” he asked, his face apparently frozen in shock. Lara n
odded carefully, and a smile finally warmed his expression considerably. “Well, I see why you brought her along, Cheri! Lara, you look perfect! Just like I expected a ‘Werever’ wolf to be! So many of those cosplays miss the mark, but you’re spot on.” Damn it, now she kind of liked the man. Just in time, she remembered not to wag her tail. This was going to be tricky.

  “She’s a dream come true,” Cheri purred proudly, waving Lara over. “Come sit by me! You’re the star attraction!” Lara wanted to protest that comment, but she was more than willing to follow the order, sitting somewhat awkwardly in the chair Reggie pulled up beside Cheri. She held her tongue, reminding herself that it was no longer human and might give her away. She’d never been more thankful for her withdrawn, monosyllabic nature. At least Cheri wouldn’t be expecting any lengthy orations… Her thighs clenched. This was going to be a long day.

  Once the line of people seeking autographs and photos got started, it never seemed to stop. Lara got used to all the people staring in awe at her ‘cosplay,’ asking questions about how much it had cost or whether she was using animatronics to control the ear and eye movements, though she was sure to curse herself for her dangerous idiocy every time. What she couldn’t get used to was how often people would just reach out and touch her, seldom with any warning. She forced herself to keep her muzzle still, to not lay back her ears, to allow each innocent, invasive stroke of her fur. This was a private hell, and God knows she had done enough to deserve it.

  For all her melodramatic comparisons to a hellish afterlife, however, Lara couldn’t deny the sheer joy she felt, sharing this with Cheri. And God, how that woman loved having her there, posing for pictures with the myriad of fans, grabbing onto her fur and pulling her close. It was wonderful… until she reminded herself that Cheri had absolutely no idea that werewolves even existed, let alone that she was sitting next to one or had just had sex with one. Aaand just like that, Lara was back in hell.

  It must have been several hours after Lara had decided this particular hell had somehow transitioned into literal hell because there was no apparent end in sight, the line just as thick with hopeful fans clutching their ‘Werever’ comic books or paperbacks as when she began this ill-conceived deception, that Reggie reappeared bearing bottles of water and sub sandwiches. Cheri heaved a sigh of relief and patted the man’s arm.

  “Reggie, you’re a life saver! I was about to just take a bite out of the next person who asked me to sign their comic book, I’m so famished!” Lara laughed, and Reggie let out a small gasp, those brown eyes behind his horn rim glasses widening alarmingly. Shit! I slipped! She rose to her feet suddenly, needing to run, terrified that any further move she made would only add to the suspicion that was no doubt already proliferating in the man’s mind. “Need a break?” Cheri asked with oblivious mercy. Lara carefully nodded. Cheri turned to Reggie again, rising from her own chair. “We’ll be back in 15, alright?” The young man frowned and gave a nod of his own, and the woman wasted no time in grabbing their sandwiches and drinks and leading Lara away from the table where the crowd still waited.

  “Ms. Van Pelt will return for more signings and photos in a few minutes,” Lara could hear Reggie addressing the line that still stretched as far as she could see, and several groans of frustration sounded. Yesterday, it seemed no one had particular interest in the author of ‘Werever’ with its comic books and television series competing, but now? Had Reggie been right? Was it her announcement of their collaborative novel that had suddenly stirred such interest? Was it because of her?

  Lara followed Cheri down the crowded hallways, passing colorful cosplay characters, her stomach growling at the scent of those sandwiches. Before long, Cheri guided her into a decently sized room that was mercifully empty.

  “This is what the ‘Werever’ crew and I have taken to calling the ‘Detox Room.’ I thought it might be a nice place for our rather belated lunch.” She set their sandwiches on one small table and pulled out a chair for Lara, the gesture somewhat baffling. The young werewolf was not used to having chairs pulled out for her in general, let alone by a gorgeous woman while in werewolf form. She shook her head, too relieved to finally be on her feet again to want to attempt another awkward sitting session. “And I thought perhaps you might need a break. You’ve been awful quiet. Not that you’re much of a chatterbox anyway, but I don’t think I’ve heard you say a single word since we got to the signing.” Careful to turn her head away, so Cheri wouldn’t see the impossible movement of her ‘mask,’ she cleared her throat.

  “Sorry. Just tired.” She hoped that would do the trick, to smooth things over and make Cheri stop looking at her as if she was about to fall to pieces.

  “Here, you must be starving, sugar. That’ll help get your energy back.” The woman offered the sub sandwich, and Lara’s stomach cramped painfully, her mouth watering so much she was seriously concerned she might be drooling. There was absolutely no way to get that sandwich down without showing herself for what she was. She shook her head.

  “Not hungry,” she said, ducking her head down again, needing to hide the movement of her muzzle. Cheri gave her a penetrating look, dark eyes flashing in a way that was fast becoming adorably familiar.

  “Now, what did I say about keeping Southern women from feeding someone?” the woman prompted with a sly smile, pushing the sandwich toward her. Her stomach cramped again, hard enough to stop her breath for a moment.

  “Not feeling well,” she said. At least that was the truth, even if matters were far more complicated than that. Concern tugged the corners of Cheri’s mouth down, furrowed her brow, and embedded guilt all the deeper in Lara’s traitorous heart.

  “I’m sorry, sugar. Is there anything I can do to help?” She shook her head. A new, strained silence settled between them as Cheri obviously worked hard to keep from bothering her despite her lingering concerns. After she’d finished her sandwich and bottle of water, she rose from the table, giving Lara another soft, worried look. “I’ve got to powder my nose. I’ll be right back, then if you’re up to it, we’ll head back to the signing booth, alright?” Lara nodded, afraid to risk any more talking. Once Cheri had exited the room, Lara pounced on her sandwich, tearing into the soft bread, salty meat, and bland cheese with desperate abandon. The water proved trickier, as she deftly unscrewed the cap, but lacked the lips to form a seal. She settled for pouring the contents down her throat.

  “Oh God, I needed that,” she growled to the empty room, hastily grabbing the paper wrappings from her sandwich bearing telling slashes from her claws and tossing them into a waste bin in case Cheri’s trip to the restroom was a quick one. After a few more minutes of staring at the door that wasn’t budging, however, Lara found herself pacing in a looped oval, her thoughts going in similar circles as she wondered how upset the woman was by her sudden, distant behavior mere hours after what had amounted to a life-upheaving bout of sex. She wasn’t certain how much time had passed, but it felt like far too long before she made up her mind to find Cheri. What if she’s sobbing her eyes out in the bathroom? I know that’s what I’D be doing if I could right now.

  The restrooms were just a short ways down the hall, but Lara caught Cheri’s scent before she could walk through the door, and her ears pricked at the sound of the woman’s voice, low and tense, coming from around the corner. She already felt guilty enough without adding eavesdropping to her list of wrong-doings, but she couldn’t shake the nagging worries at that stressed voice, and so she slunk forward until she could make out the conversation.

  “Well, frankly, darling, I don’t give a damn if you have a problem with it,” Cheri was hissing with uncharacteristic anger. “He’s already on his way, and ‘Werever’ just got the boost it needed to get those fans worked up. They don’t care if he worked in pornography— hell, they think it makes him exciting. And so do I.” Lara jerked back, realizing the woman she had lost her virginity to was talking about Darrek O’Marley.

  “You’re backing me into a corner this time, M
s. Bouchard. Don’t think for a second I’ll forget it,” came a second voice… male, unpleasant, and familiar. Mr. Ass-Hat Producer. Lara’s teeth flashed in a snarl.

  “Oh, you’d better not. You better just remember it next time you try to limit a person’s opportunities because of your small, narrow mind,” Cheri countered.

  “If you think a handful of parlor tricks and hype is going to get you more control over the series, you’re going to be sorely disappointed. Should have thought of that before you sold off your creative control for another case of Ding-Dongs.” A deep growl ripped from Lara’s throat, and she stalked forward, hackles raised and ears flattened back. “Things would be so much easier for all of us if you would just— oh God, what is that?!” the man shrieked as his light blue eyes darted to Lara, taking a staggered step backward. Cheri flashed a startled look at her, and she immediately dropped her snarl, hoping she’d reacted quick enough.

  “That,” Cheri said, turning to TV Producer Jerk, “is my lover.” Confusion, disgust, and fear warred over control of his expression, but eventually disgust won out.

  “Bitch,” he muttered under his breath as he turned and walked away at a fast clip. Lara fought the urge to snarl again, but as her eyes returned to Cheri, she took in the pensive way the woman was watching her.

  “Are you alright?” Lara asked, careful to keep her muzzle still. Cheri nodded.

  “It takes more than a big shot bully to take this bitch down.” Lara fought back the smile she so badly wanted to show.

  “Pretty sure I’m the bitch,” she jibed. Cheri looked ready to protest, but then looked her over and grinned as the joke registered.

  “Yeah, but you’re my bitch.” It shouldn’t have turned Lara on so much, but the proud, possessive way the woman said that, with just a hint of a growl in that cultured voice… A wave of arousal crashed through her, making her nipples peak, her thighs clench, and her knees weak. Cheri smiled and pulled her into an embrace she wasn’t ready for, plump arms encircling her, dark, pudgy fingers running through her fur. Those giant breasts pressed against her wolfy face, and she forced herself still until the woman eventually released her, dropping a kiss on her nose. “Ready for another round of photos with our adoring fans?” Lara nodded, too charmed by the woman to dream of backing out, even though it was the only sane thing to do.