A Wolf for Haru (3 page)

Instead, he crept across campus, careful to remain hidden and thankful for the extra time he had allotted himself so that he would not be forced to rush and be discovered.

The waiting room was empty except for the secretary when he arrived, a blessing that he had been almost afraid to ask for. He had barely even taken a seat when he was called through the open door. He didn’t even have time to utter a proper greeting before the door shut behind him and he was ushered into another chair. His hands gripped his bag nervously as his eyes stayed locked to his knees.

“No need to be so nervous, Haru, you’ve done nothing wrong. I’ve called you here about a simple problem in your class schedule.” The dean was a kindly older male, his facial markings and rounded body denoting his owl heritage clearly.

Haru was confused since he had been in classes for over a month now with no problems, he told the dean so.

“Yes, yes, but due to a few recent transfer, students in higher grades who needed the class to graduate, I am afraid that your extracurricular class is now full. You being the youngest student and the furthest from graduating, along with your excellent grades, I am positive that you would have an easier time adjusting to a new course this far into the year.”

Haru blushed at the roundabout compliment and nodded. It made sense to him. The extracurricular course in creative writing was one he had already taken in his two years of night school so technically he did not need it to graduate.

“Despite this turn of events, I do want you to continue on with an extra activity so I have prepared a list of clubs, classes, and sports that currently have an opening. We have the photography club, a painting and sculpting class, a horticulture class that I thought might suit you given your…abilities.” The dean paused.

Haru shook his head quickly at what he knew was an inquiring look. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck in a class with others where his abilities would be so easily recognizable.

“I see. Then in that case, we have only the swim team and track left with openings. I am afraid that pickings are rather slim this far into the year. I hope that you can pick from one of these.”

Haru considered. The photography club held no interest for him, he could not draw or sculpt to save his life, and horticulture was definitely out as well. That left only swimming and track. He had no desire to wear so little in front of others, not with the way that his body looked so that really left him with only one choice.

Track.

He could not help but feel torn. Joining the track team would be the same as washing away all of his hard work at staying below the radar without a care. As tempted as he was to pick photography or painting so that he would not be exposed to so many people, he just could not do it.

The allure of the sun and the wind was too much for him. Besides, running was something he could do, something he was used to doing, something he was good at.

“Track please.” His voice was the same soft tone it always was, barely ever rising above a whisper.

“Excellent choice! The sun and fresh air will be doubly wonderful to you, I’m sure. Now then, practice is every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, as well as alternate Saturdays. I hope you enjoy it. Now you better get going, we don’t want you to be late for class.”

With a hasty farewell, he was shooed out of the room and back into the waiting area, still slightly shocked at what had transpired.

He was officially a part of the track team. His first practice was this afternoon. What was he going to do?

His classes were over, they had passed in a blur. He had thankfully once again been able to avoid Saitou and his gang, having seen them approaching his building through the classroom window. He had left that class early, ducked into the bathroom and waited until he could slip out of the building unnoticed.

Now he was forced to admit to himself that he was scared. The leader of the track team, a buxom brunette with obvious cat ancestry, had taken one look at him before snarling and shoving a pair of track shorts and a university sweatshirt into his hands. He had practically scampered off to change and now stood nervously awaiting instructions, his eyes locked on the dirt.

“You any good, runt? Got a preferred event?”

the cat, whose name he distantly remembered as Eri, asked in a clipped tone.

“Long distance.” He knew it would be the best event for him. He wasn’t fast enough to out sprint the others, but his stamina had been forged over years of being chased. He was certain that long distance would be where he was best suited.

“Hmph. We’ll see about that. Now I want you to run the outer ring of the track until I tell you you’re done. You stop before then and I’ll have you scrubbing the entire teams’ equipment from now until graduation. Understand?”

His only reply was a nod, he had expected nothing less from someone like her. The students at this school treated him like a lesser being. It was still better than the way the humans would have treated him. He got ready and when her whistle sounded, he set off in a nice even pace, knowing better than to run full out in the very beginning.

He was going to be running for a while he knew so he needed to conserve his energy.

He was right about the length of time he would be spending on the track. He was almost sure that Eri had forgotten about him, if not for the slight smirk and pointed fingers every time he completed another lap. Their cruelty licked at his temper, but he suppressed it. He kept running despite it all, thankful for the water bottle he had been smart enough to place in a sling and the endurance that kept him from collapsing.

Still he kept going, determination steadying his steps, the small amount of pride that he did possess keeping him from giving up. He would not falter, would not be cowed by their blatant cruelty. They already thought him weak for not responding to their taunts, for instead choosing silence and solitude. They did not understand the strength it took to keep his abilities held back, to keep his
affliction
dormant and unresponsive.

His eyes stung with the sweat that covered his body, his clothing already soaked through. The rest of the team had finished some time ago. They had buzzed around the track, putting away equipment before eventually making their way into and out of the showers. Still Eri had yet to release him from his run. Still he was determined.

Either she would release him or she would go back to her rooms and he would slink off back to his. He refused to be the first to give in.

After seemingly an eternity, he heard her voice calling out from by the gate, obviously on her way out. “Alright, runt, bring it on in!” She didn’t even stop to see if he needed help, if he had cramps or if he had even heard her. Haru was less than surprised. He did one last lap, using the time to cool down his muscles and allow his breathing to gradually slow before he headed for the locker room.

Head down, breathing still uneven, and hair disheveled and hanging in his face, he peeled the sweatshirt off his soaked body. The room was empty so he was safe from prying eyes. He would wait to take a shower in the comfort and privacy of his rooms, but he couldn’t deal with the heavy sweater any longer. The air was chilly against his skin after long hours of running, its cool caress stiffened his nipples in an instance. He shivered slightly as he tugged his windbreaker on over his bare chest and zipped it up to his neck. It was better than the soaked shirt and would work until he showered.

With a spray of the cologne he kept in his bag to cover the odor of his sweat, he gathered his belongings to him and prepared to leave. A voice stopped him cold in his tracks.

“Did you get my gift?”

It was Saitou, his deep velvety voice still that unusually soft tone that Haru was not used to.

Haru was frozen, unable to believe that Saitou was behind him. Panicked, unable to speak, he kept his eyes down and simply nodded.

“Did you like it?” Saitou stepped closer, his heat evident in the air around him.

Haru took a chance and peeked up at him through his bangs once again. Saitou’s amber eyes were locked on him, his long hair free of a tie and tucked behind delicately pointed ears. Haru sucked in a sharp breath, determined to not give himself away and nodded slowly. He attempted to slowly skirt around the larger male.

Once again a warm hand on his shoulder stopped him, holding him in place even as he flinched violently backward.

“You aren’t going to get away from me that easily this time, pup. There’s just something about you that has a hold on me. I can’t get you off my mind. You’re so familiar…” Saitou’s voice trailed off.

Haru just didn’t understand how he had not made the connection yet, but he was smart enough to keep his eyes down. If Saitou got a glimpse of them, there was no way he wouldn’t recognize him.

“I think you remind me of
him
. I haven’t seen him in years. I will fix that soon, I swear I will.”

Haru was stunned, could tell by his tone that Saitou was talking about him. The irony never stopped it seemed. Haru reminded Saitou of Haru and the wolf didn’t even realize it. He was so startled that he didn’t notice the hand reaching for his chin this time.

He clamped his eyes closed quickly as his face was lifted upward. Strong, sharp claws gently stroked the side of his jaw, alarmingly close to his telling scar, but just managing to avoid it.

“Won’t you open your eyes? I would like to see them.”

Saitou’s breath was sweet as he whispered dangerously close to his ear. Fire shot through Haru, mixing with the lingering fear of discovery and the consequences. He trembled like he had that first night, a shudder raking through his body. Saitou pulled him closer with his free hand until their forms collided gently. He couldn’t stop his reaction to the feel of Saitou against him, that creeping almost bone-melting warmth followed by panic. He began to struggle, feeling and yet disregarding the press of claws on skin.

“Careful now, we don’t want to scratch that pretty face of yours, not when I would much rather be kissing it.”

Haru froze again, heat rocketing through him as he felt himself half-harden in desire. Even after all of the torment, all of the pain, the thought of kissing Saitou was enough to make him whimper.

“I’ve been looking for you. I almost thought I had made you up, a siren conjured in a dream, until I saw you running that last lap on the field.”

He felt the wolf move closer, his cheek brushing his as his nose snuffled at his hair, a displeased snort echoing shortly afterward.

“First the rain and now the cologne, I keep getting thwarted when it comes to getting your scent. I’ll have it though, no matter how long it takes.”

Before he could react, warm lips were on his, pressing firmly as a strong hand held his face still.

He flinched and that hand moved upward, tangling itself in his hair. Saitou tilted his head, slanting his lips for better access as his tongue prodded Haru’s closed mouth for entrance.

Unable to help himself, too weak to resist the temptation of making such a sweet memory, he opened.

Saitou’s tongue swept in, hot cinnamon and sex given form. Wicked and seductive he was better than anything Haru had ever tasted. Cautiously, he extended his own tongue, a moan slipping out as it entangled with Saitou’s. It wasn’t a duel for dominance, Saitou had that completely. It was instead a joining. A giving and a taking that made Haru’s heart ram hard against his chest and his eyes long to open. He wanted to see him, to be able to memorize the look on Saitou’s face in such a moment, and it pained him that it wasn’t possible.

Rational thought fled as the hand that had pulled him closer wrapped completely around his waist, an iron band covered in warm silk, holding him even closer. His moan was little more than a weak mewling sound as he gave in completely, melting against Saitou’s hard form.

He didn’t care about the consequences in that instance, didn’t care if Saitou and the others beat him until he couldn’t move when this was over.

His world had narrowed to this moment, this press of tongue against tongue, body against body, hardness against hardness. For so long he had wanted someone to hold him, to cherish him, to see something other than the curse of his abilities. So even if this wasn’t real, even if Saitou was kissing a stranger in his mind, Haru was still kissing Saitou and that was all that mattered.

They shifted then, Saitou’s hand removing itself from his hair and trailing down between their bodies to grasp the zipper of Haru’s jacket. A single firm pull and it was open, Saitou’s hot, greedy hand sliding inside in the next second.

Long, claw-tipped fingers plucked firmly at nipples beaded by raging desire and that ever-present undercurrent of desperation.

Haru moaned, bucking his hips against the solid body before him, gasping brokenly when his aching erection rubbed against an answering hardness that Saitou did nothing to hide. He had never felt anything like this before, never been touched in such a way by anything other than his own shamefully curious hands. His knees weakened, turned to liquid beneath him as Saitou’s mouth ate hungrily at his own.

The hand around his waist slipped down, cupping his ass in one fluid movement that sent shockwaves through him. Saitou squeezed firmly and Haru moaned, a ragged noise muffled by the wolf’s fierce kiss. He wanted to be embarrassed by the sounds he was making, by the purely wanton noises he had never known he could produce, but he wasn’t.

Nothing had ever felt so good. No touch had ever given him such pleasure, such pure heat. He wanted to keep it, to have it for himself always.

He wanted it as he went to sleep each night and wanted to wake to it each morning. He wanted hard arms and supple lips, wanted to finally feel just how soft that glorious curtain of hair was.

He couldn’t hold the urge back any longer. His hands rose almost of their own accord, brushing against soft hot skin as they sunk themselves deep into luxurious waves of copper-tinted hair. The edges of his palms brushed softly against the tips of elfin ears, the touch ripping a growling moan out of the otherwise silent wolf.