middaeg | (open) i paced around for hours on empty, i jumped at the slightest of sounds

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(open) i paced around for hours on empty, i jumped at the slightest of sounds

Who: Stiles Stilinski and YOU
When: Night of Aereuer 8 (full moon)
Where: Various spots in Aefenglom
What: Semi-feral Arachne party games on a very special 18th birthday
Warnings: Language, animal death

[ After escaping from Sheva in the Wildes and absconding to Aefenglom, Stiles begins his hunt. Honestly, he’s not quite sure what he’s exactly on the hunt for – only that there’s a voracious hunger rising within him, an appetite that won’t be whetted by just any meal. And so, humming the happy birthday tune to himself loudly and offkey, he prowls from district to district from the city skyline. Those eight spider legs carry him vertically up edifices with no apparent effort, even make impressive leaps across significant distances between buildings. The sense of fear that usually holds Stiles back is gone; uninhibited, he experiments with his superhuman abilities in boyish delight, that joy tempered only by the unkind, savage grin stretching his mouth too wide. ]

It’s my party and I can cry if I want to, [ comes one such inspired ballad, interrupted by his sniggering as he swings upside down from where he’s currently perched. ] Cry if I want to, cry if I want to!

[ That’s if you’re lucky. Sometimes it’s – ]

It’s yo birthday, so I know you wanna ri-i-i-ide out. [ There’s a dog howling somewhere nearby in sympathy. ] Even if we only go to my-y-y-y house.

[ During the night, Stiles will make a nuisance of himself. Expect to find him cavorting through the streets doing eight-legged cartwheels, singing obnoxiously despite the hour, spinning webs in inconvenient locations, dropping by homes to pay friends unexpected house calls, etc. ]

( ooc | Full Moon Shift appearance details, CR & plotting comment, and info & permissions page. Stiles will not be hurting anyone. If threatened with violence, his Arachne instincts will force him to flee the scene. If you want to figure out a specific prompt for your character, hit me up! )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Whatever inhuman, overpoweringly painful hunger there is twisting his gut into knots is still nothing in the face of the shame that suddenly burns through him. It's red hot and agonizing, visibly flinching from the scar with which he's presented when he has so little energy available to combat his own displays of emotion. All that willpower is instead directed towards not widening the wound on his shoulder with scraping teeth and a deep plunge of fangs. ]

Fuck– [ –you, he might add, but that's assuming he has the right to say it. Who's at fault here? Himself. Some moon-crazed version of his friend isn't deserving of his wrath, he is. He swallows the saliva that's gathered under his tongue, glancing sidelong at the front door. ]

... I'm staying with Jonas. You promised you'd do the same, didn't you? I can handle this if I'm given a chance to. [ Without a feast beneath his very nose. ]

You need to trust me.

[ That flinch is observed and catalogued with unsympathetic satisfaction, the desired result of a callous reminder. While Stiles would normally avoid throwing that night back in Sasuke’s face, he has no such qualms right now; it’s a necessary means to an end. Still crouched, he slings a deceptively blithe smile back at Sasuke from over a shoulder, one that’s at odds with the dangerous narrowing of his eyes. ]

Sasuke.

[ A tarsus holds up the key to the front door before firmly sliding it into the front of a jeans pocket. ]

I trust you’re going to make the smart choice here, [ he replies sweetly. ] I’m going to give you until the count of ten, then do things my way. One.

[ It’s a lie – Stiles will only wait until the count of seven at maximum. ]

Two.

[ Compliance is optional, in other words, but the end result isn't. Nearly nineteen years of combat training has in no way prepared him for a situation in which he's physically overwhelmed by a monster-enhanced version of one of his friends, somehow, in spite of many bouts with Naruto that could be described in exactly that way. He's weak, knowing that strength is just one lapse in control away but that's a step towards ferality he can't afford to take.

Eyes focus on that pocket, envisioning a step forward and a rush to grab those keys and just how poorly it would go for him.

He's angry. He's protective. He's resentful of someone he's distantly aware is trying to help him. But none of those things make him an idiot and he's finally stepping forward, arm wrapping like a steel band over collarbones as he climbs onto him with barely restrained emotion. Immediately his head's turned away from his shoulder, favoring the opposite side as his fingers press hard into bare skin. ]

Move. If I sense he's in danger we have to return, that instant.

Yeah, obviously, [ he huffs, mildly affronted. ] I’m high, not sociopathic. Hello?

[ Stiles requires a moment to adjust to the weight on his back – a mental effort, not a physical one. His semi-feral animal brain struggles fiercely against the idea of being so exposed to another predator like this. Sasuke may be a friend, but they aren’t Bonded; they lack that connection that the Vampire shares with Jonas. With a suppressed shudder, he reins in instinct and straightens. A single Arachne limb folds backwards to help support Sasuke like a seat while human hands hook under knees. Once he’s certain that his passenger is secure, Stiles allows the rest of spider limbs to propel them forward, hurtling over the front lawn and wrought-iron gate. When extended to their full length, they eat up distance at a rate his human legs could never hope to compare to. The sharp movements of the topmost right limb have the scar bleeding anew almost immediately, but at least they’re traveling with enough speed to create a downwind. ]

I used to give Scott piggybacks all the time. [ The comment is absent, offhand. Like Stiles isn’t totally aware of even speaking out loud. ] Before he hit his growth spurt, I mean. Poor guy was a late bloomer.

[ In more ways than one. ]

[ Nails dig into skin with all the restraint that Sasuke can personally muster, launched into a defensive mindset the second that inhuman limb touches him. Cages him in. Every one of his instincts is screaming at him to hurt Stiles, drain every ounce of strength from him so he can then return to his Bonded and keep him safe for the rest of the night – instead of abandoning him as he's being forced to – but he'll have to settle for one minor lapse of control instead. ]

Do I have to listen to stories about your friend's physical maturity and pretend they're my main focus right now because it's your birthday? [ Okay, two minor lapses of control. There's no real fire to that question, more an exhausted exasperation as he tries to distract himself in any way he can from his own urges. He cranes his neck to keep his head lifted over that opposing shoulder as they move, well away from the scent of blood but further into his new friend's personal space. His chin presses down against his collar as his eyes narrow into the wind, trying to ignore the teeth he can feel becoming elongated the hungrier he gets. ]

It would take all my energy and be your only gift.

Good. If you don’t have energy, maybe I won’t have to listen to your constant bitching.

[ Both the nails biting into his skin and the catty question are dismissed with the same easy, cocksure confidence that Stiles basks in tonight. He feels little insecurity or self-doubt, even when the trichobothria warn him of the tension radiating off of Sasuke the way it does a cornered viper, body curled in on itself and head poised to strike. The sense of urgency only drives him to pick up the pace. ]

I’m not expecting a gift, by the way, [ Stiles continues conversationally, a little breathless as he scales the first building they come across in the Aristocratic District. ] I suppose I’ll consider your reluctant presence right now as a gift instead. So, you’re welcome. Just spared you from having to buy me something.

[ From the rooftop of the building, he vaults to the next adjacent building. It becomes a game of deadly hopscotch, with the stakes being a considerable drop to the streets below. But though there’s a wild energy to Stiles, he isn’t careless – if the gap between buildings is uncertain, he refuses to make the jump and seeks another route. They’ll clear the Aristocratic District shortly at this speed. ]

[ Even in a moment like this Sasuke's able to muster up some petty ire at the way he's being spoken to, wishing for any opportunity to even the scales but that's nigh impossible in his condition. Instead he distracts himself by splaying fingers wide over bare skin, securing his hold so he can look openly down at the city below. If anything the heights and leaps through the air aid in lowering his tension, finding this sensation to be one of calming familiarity. Not to mention the vantage point from which he's now able to easily view the city. ]

If you'd wanted a gift you would've told us the date in advance. [ Would he have gotten him something?

... yeah. He would've. ] I have rats at my house. We can still go there instead. [ Though the thought of eating them now is repulsive. ]

[ Go to Sasuke’s house? Uh oh. For the first time that night, a trickle of trepidation slithers down his spine. Stiles gamely pretends to consider the option, all the while thinking about the extremely irate shinobi whom he left hogtied on Sasuke’s bed earlier. Mm, yeah, no. Despite how powerful and self-assured he currently feels, Stiles isn’t foolish enough to willingly pit himself against two royally pissed off Uchiha brothers. ]

What would it take for you to start calling where you live “home?” [ he asks with genuine curiosity, seemingly apropos of nothing. ] You never even call your world “home.”

[ They sail over the invisible line dividing the Aristocratic District from the Entertainment District now. The buildings here are not quite so tall. Stiles doesn’t try to silence an enthusiastic whoop as they freefall from a drop of three stories; spread Arachne limbs soak up the impact of landing with ease, though he does wobble dizzily for a moment before taking off again. The awkward roofing of a particular building drives him to travel along a second-floor wall instead. Beyond the windows they pass, brothel occupants celebrate the full moon with hearty gusto. Stiles barely spares them a glance. ]

[ For approximately one full second, head cloudy with appreciation for the moons he finds himself craning his neck to stare up at, he actually enjoys this. The wind smells fresh and he's free of responsibilities, traveling fast out in the open air of the night like he used to as a child.

Then Stiles drops and the illusion is cracked down its center, legs squeezing in tight around the arachne's sides with a flex of muscled thighs and a heavy dose of instinctual bracing. Stiles sounds exhilarated rather than fearful, however, and he fully expects dexterous limbs to catch on rock and scrape at mortar just as they do. Is that faith in Stiles or in his new abilities? ]

I haven't lived anywhere permanent since I was twelve. [ The memory is one he shares even as his head turns, catching flashes of bare skin and heavy makeup that are gone in an instant, and he finds himself vastly preferring the beauty of those two celestial bodies hanging overhead instead. Their call is far more seductive to him right now. ]

Should I dig out the word "home" for a building where I've stayed for a few months? [ A fresh breeze carries old blood on it from somewhere and his eyes instantly narrow, forehead suddenly pressing to the other teen's shoulder as he tries to block it out. Fuck, fuck... ] Stiles–

Hurry up.

[ Tarsi click rhythmically over the façade of worn brick as he climbs down to the street level, only taking a moment to heft Sasuke higher onto his back before he whisks them away into the night again. The forehead pressed against his shoulder has him soothingly kneading the sides of Sasuke’s thighs in slow, firm circles with his thumbs. Where he would normally restrain the urge to affectionately touch his friend, given Sasuke’s aversion to casual contact, no such inhibition exists for Stiles in this state now. ]

Nearly there, bud. Hang on a bit longer for me.

[ Conversation is cut short; he may be stronger in a full moon shift, but Stiles lacks the stamina to carry someone his own weight over a long distance at this rushed pace. Muscles located in the joints of his Arachne limbs ache from the strain. He refuses to let up, however. ]

Jonas made the cottage a home for me, [ he says eventually, sweat beading at his brow. ] Maybe it’s too soon…but you know you’re welcome there anytime, right? It’s even better when you’re with us.

[ They exit the Entertainment District and finally enter the Shopping District. Stiles makes a beeline down a cramped alley that reeks of garbage and spoiled food – the pet store is just around the corner. ]

[ He's broken out into a cold sweat, bangs flattened between the sticky skin of his forehead and Stiles's shoulder, and it's like he can smell the magic pulsing through his veins. His mouth is watering just envisioning a metallic taste that goes so far beyond anything he's ever enjoyed before in his life. The tastes of his favorite foods, the sting of a hot bath on new wounds, a rushed orgasm after a foggy dream. None of them even approach how good he knows it would feel to sink teeth into his friend's flesh.

So he lifts his head, eyes opening fully again to try to take in the sight of anything that might serve as a distraction, and he hangs on just like Stiles had asked him to. In his own fugue, those soothing touches actually help.

This is what he wants to invite into their home. It's funny enough that he wants to laugh, but he knows very well just how serious he is. This version of Stiles is not one who's kept his feelings about his friends a secret. ]

You're right, it's too soon. The Bond is already a lot right now. [ Even if he couldn't have an easier Bondmate; that in itself is sometimes the problem. ]

We’ll wait for when you’re ready, then.

[ A bold statement that he’s confident enough to make on behalf of Jonas, even if they haven’t discussed this subject at any length previously. He knows beyond a shadow of doubt that his best friend would agree were he here instead of currently webbed to a wall, probably cursing the day he met Stiles Stilinski. With a bright, breezy laugh at the mental image, he puts aside the topic for now and dedicates his focus to the pet store. At this hour, twin moons hanging somewhere between 1 and 3 a.m., the row of businesses on the street are devoid of all activity. Good. While there are several pet stores in Aefenglom, this is the one in particular that Stiles has painstakingly cased over the course of the last week. Accordingly, he’s more than prepared.

Releasing the back of a thigh he’d been cupping in a supportive grip – not that Sasuke, with his insane muscle strength, required the assistance anyway – he fishes out a key from his pocket. The brass of this key is noticeably smooth, devoid of any nicks or scratches from use; it’s brand new. As he slides it into the keyhole of the front door to the pet store, Stiles explains. ]

Lifted the master key off the owner a few days ago and had a copy made. You can keep it after tonight.

[ The lock clicks, a noise that has Stiles humming in approval before he swings open the door. Taking a step away from the threshold, he pats Sasuke’s flank to indicate the Vampire should get down. ]

Bon appétit, monsieur.

[ A few thoughts penetrate the thick fog of insatiable hunger.

First, Stiles isn't pushing him. He's remaining patient and respectful of his boundaries, which while not out of character is still something he doesn't take for granted and leaves him thus in a unique position to distantly appreciate. Secondly, Stiles is absolutely ready for this. He had the place picked out, the route mapped, and he has a key to get them inside undetected. He's going this far to anticipate his needs and provide for him... and it's strange in how foreign it is. He's always taken care of himself, even as a child, so to be provided a safety net and backup he hadn't even needed to ask for is dizzying.

He'll process it later.

The pet shop is dark but for the blue-green glow of magic, whether shining out from the shadows in the form of peering animal eyes or dotting the tree growing in the center of the store with the occasional luminescent leaf. Hollows in the bark feature carefully fitted bars, cage doors hinting at the animals that make the tree trunk their home. None of those interest him. Instead his own eyes settle almost immediately on one particular animal in the back past the counter, a small pen with grass magically grown over a stone tile floor serving to house it and it alone.

A fawn, already curled up and fast asleep but lifting its tired head as soon as Sasuke's feet touch the floor. His approach is slow in spite of his previous impatience, unbothered by the chirping of newly roused birds or the barking of dogs in kennels in the back. Everything about the way he presents himself now is ruled by a strangely reassured calm, each and every step measured and light enough to prevent his prey from so much as tensing – only an ear goes flat when deathly pale fingers unlatch the front of that pen. ]

Stiles. [ Even his voice sounds altered, lower and soothing as if he wants to spread that new calm to him as well. Several of the animals grow quiet now, the excitement from the disturbance of their rest fading with that smooth tone. ] You can come closer; she won't fight. I want you to see.

[ He sinks onto his knees before that deer with eyes locked on a larger pair, exhaling any remaining regrets as his hand lifts to gently stroke the soft side of her head. Her ear flicks as she lifts her head in a bob but otherwise just acknowledges him with a completely ignorant peace. Sasuke's first thrall.

The second his grip turns suddenly rough, fingers grasping hard at a skull to lift her head higher, the alarmed bleat she manages while struggling to get gangly limbs beneath her is too little too late. Elongated fangs sink deep into an exposed throat and her thrashes almost instantly stop, one back leg kicking a final time before she's slumping towards him submissively, eyes losing their focus. ]

[ Sasuke slides off. The gentle exhalation of cool spring air flooding in against his naked back is so warm in comparison to the corpselike temperature of his friend. Rolling his shoulders lazily, Stiles watches the young man disappear into the store before turning to study the deserted street. A menacing, possessive kind of overprotectiveness has him extending all eight Arachne limbs, testing wind currents with his trichobothria to ensure they remain unobserved. He senses only the movements of trivial lifeforms – rats scurrying through refuse, pigeons nesting with heads bobbing in slumber. Nothing that poses a threat to Sasuke. Satisfied, Stiles folds the limbs against his body, enters the pet store, and quietly closes the door behind him. Time to make sure his Vampire is well fed.

Like most of the animals here, his brown eyes reflect that glow of magic through an intense tapetal reflex. While none of the pets for sale had paid him any mind during his various information-gathering visits, they now shy away from his silhouette as he passes. Stiles may not share the same nature of hunger that drives Sasuke, but he still emits the aura of a dangerous predator with an appetite; a nearby tank of frogs draws his attention immediately. Only the sound of his name, uttered in silky smooth tones, coaxes him away from the potential snack. Sighing regretfully, he continues onward toward the pen that Sasuke has selected and considers whether or not to enter. Instinct warns him to tread with caution – there’s no telling how his friend will react to tasting blood imbued with magic. The thrall that has captivated the fawn isn’t powerful enough to affect him, but Stiles can feel it lapping at the edges of his awareness like water on the shore. Trapped in a confined space such as this, unable to utilize limbs properly, he’s at a marked disadvantage. He should maintain a healthy distance.

Mouth quirked in a lopsided grin, he joins Sasuke in the pen.

The bedding of pine shavings crunches underfoot quietly as he moves closer. Stiles has always been a fervent connoisseur of the strange and morbid; he won’t waste this opportunity to observe a Vampire feed, especially one as starved for quality blood as Sasuke is. Dropping down beside his friend in a crouch, he takes a moment to ascertain his close proximity isn’t about to set Sasuke off and then relaxes with an elbow on a knee and chin in hand. Were he himself, the belated struggling of the doomed fawn would have inspired a tiny seed of guilt in his heart. Instead, Stiles simply watches with a deceptively sleepy, half-lidded gaze as Sasuke drinks. Something about the sight – beyond even his currently unrestrained, unselfconscious self to decipher – has him longing to touch. Gingerly, so as to not interfere with the Vampire’s meal, he reaches out to brush the velvety soft flank of the animal in slow, comforting strokes of his free hand. ]

Take your time, [ he murmurs to Sasuke. ] We’ve got plenty of options if you need more.

[ He remembers how he felt the first time he tasted rat blood, that feeling of finally satisfying a deep-seated need no matter how controversial or repulsive. That feeling had been relief mixed with reluctance, slowly resigning himself to the fact that this would become his new existence: squeezing every drop from bad-tempered little creatures always trying to snap at his fingers, fighting to keep blood from matting into short, rough fur.

What he feels now is so incredibly different. Warm blood fills his mouth and coats a tongue that's all but begging for it and the flavor incites a manic response that twin moons had been trying to coax from him with their duet siren song, teeth immediately scraping at matching entry wounds to widen them so that he might bite deeper. He feels powerful, satisfied, aroused, and sickly fulfilled as the taste of copper tinted with the heady flavor of magic quickly cements itself as his newest addiction. Going back to rats? After this? After what Stiles has made possible...

Eyes go half-lidded as he regains awareness of the teen crouched at his side, the wet sounds of steady sucks at a bruised throat tapering off as he slowly pulls back. His next breath in is deep and languorous as he basks in the moment, tongue swiping at newly stained lips when his gaze turns sidelong. ]

You really thought of everything, didn't you? [ It's all but teasing as his hand suddenly moves, flattening over the one Stiles had placed upon that deer with an almost cloying grasp, squeezing with a mixture of desperation and excitement. ] It's difficult to hold myself back right now... do you want to feel it?

[ No response is awaited, instead swiping his thumb slowly and purposefully over trichobothria as his head ducks back down. He seals his mouth back over still bleeding punctures as that deer's eyes grow dull, the resurgence of that taste forcing him to smother a groan as he swallows hurriedly. ]

[ A pall of unnatural silence descends upon the beset pet store but for the wet noises of Sasuke feeding. Not even the caged insects dare disturb the Vampire with their chittering cacophony. Or maybe he’s become willfully deaf to anything that isn’t Sasuke in that moment; he couldn’t possibly look away if he even wanted to. Stiles allows himself to enjoy the view, the Arachne limbs positioned behind them like a privacy screen. So far, so good. The faint impression of color is starting to return to Sasuke’s cheeks, thawing a pale countenance until it’s almost lukewarm. When his friend pauses, glancing askance at him with thin rivulets of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, Stiles feels the weight of that regard like a tangible touch.

Regardless if it is meant as such, Stiles accepts the remark as praise. He preens unabashedly, fangs bared in a genuine smile, pleased to hear that his efforts haven’t been in vain. Then Sasuke intentionally initiates contact – a rarity always worth appreciating, honestly – and Stiles falters. His persistent mien of impenetrable, cocky confidence finally falls from his face as that thumb brushes over the trichobothria in a caress. The fine hairs there, acutely sensitive in order to feel minute vibrations in the air from long distances, become contiguous to Sasuke’s flesh and create a kind of impromptu, one-sided Bond. He’s instantly aware of every miniscule detail about his friend’s physical state that he’d been previously ignorant to. And oh, Sasuke may smother his groan but Stiles does not. When this last happened, it was an accident during one of their training sessions that left him uncomfortably aroused. This experience is incomparable. The feedback that the trichobothria receive from Sasuke has him shuddering with overstimulation, like each precious mouthful of blood the young man draws is going directly to his own groin. He actually grasps Sasuke’s wrist with his other hand, caught between wanting to wrench himself free and – and…

From the fawn to Sasuke to Stiles, an unbroken chain of sensation that he is woefully unprepared to process. As the deer’s heart slows to a crawl, he feels the muscular organ thudding against Sasuke’s ribcage speed up in response. The rhythmic working of his friend’s throat as he drinks, over and over, is as palpable to Stiles as if his fingers were pressed intimately against that graceful neck. He’s breathless with a secondhand hunger, mouth parted on a silent gasp as he stares unblinking at the sight. The Arachne limbs scrabble restlessly for purchase, inflamed with the same excitement and arousal as the two young men. Though Stiles says nothing, too overwhelmed for words, the hold on Sasuke’s wrist loosens gradually until he’s absently petting the pulse point there in time with the Vampire’s swallows. ]

[ For years Sasuke's most intimate relationships with pleasure have come in the form of denying them their rights to exist, basking in self-destructive martyrdom as if it were a legitimate longterm strategy for life. What others think of him matters only in the sense that they not view him as self-indulgent or self-serving, at all costs, but now? Here he is taking exactly what he needs and then some, and Stiles merely places a hand on his and comforts him with simple touches that offer a wordless, implicit approval of his selfishness.

He feels almost giddy as he gurgles a blood-soaked laugh against pinched skin, fur damp and matted when he finally draws back again with an almost tender squeeze of Stiles's hand. This is good, he feels relaxed and fulfilled but also keyed up and hyper-aware of every perfect moment. Nothing outside this room matters to him beyond a chance to indulge in whatever this moonlight-drenched night has to offer him, understanding all too well what Stiles had meant by his earlier claim of being "high".

The groan is one he finds oddly endearing, matching the throbbing of his entire body – it makes a budding erection almost unnoticeable. He's sure in this singular moment that he's never felt more physical pleasure in his entire life. ]

It's your birthday and yet I'm the one getting gifts... I should take back what I said earlier about not getting you anything.

What do you want?

Edited 2020-05-24 20:38 (UTC)

[ The sweet sound of that laugh, low and rich, chases goosebumps tantalizingly up his bare arms until he’s shivering, somehow simultaneously overheated and chilled. Watching this indulgent display is stirring awake a ravenous hunger within him, one that has him hissing out a longing breath between newly wet, glistening fangs. When the first bead of secreted venom plips almost inaudibly to the pen bedding between his spread knees, Stiles realizes what’s happening. ]

Ha, would you look at that, [ he muses aloud in soft wonder. ] You’ve got me dripping.

[ Releasing Sasuke’s wrist with a final, fond squeeze, he holds a hand beneath his mouth to catch the venom in his palm. Stiles has done more than enough research to understand what this toxin might be capable of, but has yet to use it. As tempted as he is to sink his teeth into the deer and release the substance into her dried-up bloodstream, he won’t spoil Sasuke’s meal. So, wiping his hand clean on the pine shavings at their feet, he turns his head to spit out a mouthful of saliva and venom. His stomach clenches hard in protest, reminding Stiles that all he’s had to eat since yesterday morning was a smoothie and some carrots. ]

Birthday boy wants you to enjoy himself.

[ Arachne limbs help push him to his feet, hand sliding free from beneath Sasuke’s. A measure of composure returns once the trichobothria are clear of that connection, delicious though it undeniably was. Stiles is still visibly affected by it, the front of his jeans tighter, but he remains indolently unapologetic about either of their semi-erections. Challenging the implicit (and sometimes, explicit) boundaries Sasuke usually adheres to, he drops that hand to his friend’s shoulder and affectionately massages the ball of muscle there. ]

Up for a second course? I think I need a snack to take the edge off.

[ Flecks of concern and worry dot his consciousness nigh imperceptibly and are pushed aside in favor of far stronger emotions, not even fully registering that the feelings are gifts from Jonas. Were he more in control himself they'd read to him properly as the warnings that they are, but right now? They hit a wall not of pure ferality but of moon-induced mania, too focused on the now to allow much to bring him down. ]

What an answer... Something real, Stiles. Should I walk you over to the insect enclosure in the back? Even that's less lazy a gift than what you're suggesting... [ Even if under normal circumstances he'd call it far too big an ask. Right now instead he's tossing him that satisfied smirk over his shoulder, thumb swiping absently at droplets of blood on his chin as he allows that animal corpse to drop back against the enchanted grass with unceremonious disregard.

He pops the digit in his mouth to savor the last taste of magical mammalian blood as his eyes linger on Stiles's own set of fangs, instinctively seeing a threat but a lack of malicious intent from his friend calms his more primal reactions. ]

I'd transform to partake with you but I don't know what might happen to me if I try it right now.

[ With a breathy noise too brief to even be called a chuckle, he exits the pen and considers his options for a quick meal. Simultaneously, he remains cognizant of the blood-drenched presence at his back that stifles the otherwise dreamy atmosphere of the store. Sasuke no longer seems to be at risk of losing control to bloodlust, at least. That fact alone has him smiling, a private moment to indulge in the pride and pleasure of having done something right. Home is secure. Jonas is safe. Sasuke is well. Stiles did good, just this once. The Arachne limbs fold in around him, the awkward caricature of a hug. ]

There’s a thought.

[ Bare feet pad quietly as he approaches the insect enclosures, some of which feature fairly active critters. Nocturnal creatures, like him and Sasuke. But many of the specimens are normal sized – a pittance of a meal for a full-grown Arachne. His fingers trail over glass. ]

The next time you do transform, let me pet you. How’s that sound? [ Pausing, he turns a challenging smirk on Sasuke, one eyebrow cocked. ] Real enough for you?

[ A giant, exotic-looking praying mantis observes him with flinty eyes. Large enough to satisfy him, though the description on the terrarium warns that she’s highly aggressive and not to be handled. ]

If that’s asking too much, how about you grab my new friend here without losing a finger?

No, [ he returns in a low voice deepened by satisfaction and slaked hunger, skin still buzzing with the magic he'd so desperately needed and veins fully pumping life again. Lately his heart beat has been so much slower and growing all the more reluctant by the day – but not now. Now he feels powerful again, alive, and with that sense of power comes his confidence. ]

Hardly real enough. Do you understand what you're asking? Maybe to you I'm just some animal, but think of it from my perspective. [ Essentially submitting himself to being caressed by Stiles. Perhaps now, high off blood and feeling an unknown sense of both security and physical contentment, it might be easier. But he knows this feeling won't last. If it did it wouldn't be half as precious.

He trails after Stiles like a shadow, paying no mind to those independent spider limbs as he crowds him from behind not unlike the way he had out in the Wildes, both of them struggling through a burgeoning friendship with a backdrop of strained archery lessons. It's almost funny now. Perhaps it's a desire to show off his new heightened body heat. Perhaps he just wants a good look at the insect in question, level with Stiles's own eyes. He peers over his shoulder, head tilting.]

So, you want to pass your hunt off? Sure, it won't be a problem for me. Alive or dead? [ His arm reaches past Stiles, bracketing his body as his hand comes to rest on the glass of the enclosure, waiting. ]

Kill it, if you want. [ A silky shrug. ] I don’t care.

[ No, this isn’t the kind of hunt he’s interested in. Not at this point in his transformation, anyway. There’s no game to be had here, nothing to test his abilities in sleuthing, beguiling, and problem solving. Gaze sharpening, he deviates from staring through the glass at the insect to studying Sasuke’s features in the reflection. Each flexible stalk of the Arachne appendages, protruding from various points on either side of his back, flattens carefully to avoid contact with the hovering Vampire; the limbs are overspread with trichobothria and shy from the casual brush of Sasuke’s clothes. ]

Do I come across as the kind of guy who goes around randomly petting animals? [ he asks with an amused huff. Chin dipping, he glances over his shoulder at Sasuke. ] You’ll never just be some animal to me. The fact that it’s you is why I’m interested.

[ Tarsi claws make quick work of the locks on the tank. Stiles continues to regard Sasuke – capsizing under the weight of his own affection for the other man – before finally returning his attention to the mantis. With a brief discordant screech, the metal, mesh top to the tank is removed and set aside. The mantis is frozen, antennae twitching. ]

I can’t even touch you normally, [ Stiles continues, voice dropping in quiet rumination, tone tinged with a bittersweet fondness. ] Can’t it be okay, just once, to pet you when you’re a bat? The only one judging you would be yourself.

No, you already told me how it is that animals react to your presence. Do you think I'll be gentler when you reach for me?

[ Silence follows as respect for Stiles's quietly voiced question and longing, gaze lingering on the side of his face when he exhales heavily. What a demanding man... His attention reluctantly focuses back on the scythed insect peering back at them with huge keen eyes, his own taking on a far softer quality as he exudes that same hypnotic magic he'd utilized on the deer almost without any conscious effort. A possible victim? An instinctive response. ]

Does that bother you? Foregoing touch between the two of us... [ The word "touch" is brought to life as his hand lifts just to duck down lower into that cage, the mantis not even reacting to the threatening hand when it would force her to look away from a piercing set of eyes. Fingers wrap around her with another exhale, satisfied with the lack of fight when he raises her up out of the enclosure and face to face with Stiles. His chin is nearly resting on the other teen's shoulder now, waiting expectantly. ]

I just told you you’re not an animal to me. [ He shifts his weight onto the other foot. ] Of course I’d expect you to be gentler.

[ Ah, there it is again. Teasing the periphery of his awareness, a sensation feather-soft and enticing, whispering gently to him in dulcet tones to let down his guard, to give himself over. Goosebumps pebble up along his naked arms. Far more interested in watching the effect that Sasuke’s thrall has on the mantis in real time, he clinically ignores the physical reaction of his own body. Stiles is no less curious for the potential danger that their current proximity to each other might earn him; he trusts Sasuke, foolish as it likely is when they’re both so moon-high. But if this is what a fledgling Vampire is capable of before death… Stiles shivers. ]

I’m not used to it, [ he answers, appreciative of his friend’s power as the mantis is retrieved without issue, ] not being able to touch a friend freely. Maybe it’s the ADHD, I don’t know, but I’m a tactile person – I like being able to connect with people through my hands.

[ An Arachne limb stirs from its dormant state, reaching forward to effortlessly clip the mantis’ head from its neck; compound eyes finally slide away from Sasuke’s hypnotic gaze as the creature thrashes in its headless death throes. As for Stiles – his fangs glisten again, this time with purpose. ]

If you want a bite, you need to go first. I’ll ruin it.

[ He sees trust and fascination in equal measure in that set of inhuman eyes, fixated so intently that they remain only on him even when danger looms close in the form of that dexterous spider limb. For a moment, that head is weightless, slowly turning with those eyes still fixed.

Then all at once the gossamer sheen that the scene had adopted is shattered, reality spinning back into place once the thrall is broken and that magical creature experiences its consequences. Sasuke feels nothing beyond a slight satisfaction, sated by his own abilities and equally pleased that he's so ready and able to repay his debt to Stiles. Well, at least in some small measure... ]

Then ruin it and I'll watch. That's where my interest lies. [ Here he steps forward, turning on his heel with a lean against that cage to better watch him. ]

You know I'm also a tactile person... [ He trails off, eyes lowering to that writhing, beheaded body. ] But always for another reason. My instincts will always perceive a fight first if you reach for me.

(open) i paced around for hours on empty, i jumped at the slightest of sounds

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