cherripeach
Moony
- Joined
- Apr 23, 2022
- Location
- USA
Andrew sighed the moment he walked through his front door. He kicked his shoes off, uncaring of where they landed. He tilted his head, loosening his tie as he popped his neck. He’d worked an eighty hour week; a combination of his day job as a TA and a graduate student at the university. The temptation to climb right into bed almost won, but he picked up his shoes and walked to his bedroom.
When people looked at Andrew, they saw a tall, intellectual man with soft brown hair that fell in waves around his head. He didn’t need glasses, but he spent so much time in front of brightly lit screens that he’d decided to protect his eyes with blue-light lenses. Having placed his belongings in their proper place and changed into workout clothes, Andrew allowed himself five minutes of rest before he began his evening routine.
A quick workout, dinner, homework, one episode of whatever show he felt like watching, and then to bed. Andrew liked to keep his schedules; he worked best in patterns and known routines, thrived from the rigid structure. It helped his pack, too. When they needed to contact him, they knew exactly when to call on weekdays.
Andrew didn’t like to share his pack status. He didn’t like the way people’s opinions of him changed when he told them, didn’t like how he could see their thoughts shifting in their eyes, rearranging the way they would approach him. It made him exceedingly uncomfortable. He kept his personal life and his pack life separate. During the week, Andrew focused on his work and studies. Weekends were for pack activities–for the runs across the vast forested areas that surrounded their city, the stargazing, the song-howling, and fraternity.
There was a shift in the air around him. Andrew paused the music that blared around the exercise room, nose tilted up. What was that smell? His nostrils flared, following the pull of it. Andrew had never come across anything like it. It was sweet, enticing, making his mouth water. He popped his neck again, inhaling deeply. His instincts told him to find the source, to hunt them down.
Normally, Andrew would be able to ignore his wolfish drive. He’d shake it off and wait until the pack-run to give into his primitive drive. But he had no intention of doing that tonight. Running his tongue over his teeth, Andrew marched to the sliding glass door that led to his backyard. Someone was standing there, looking disheveled and–anxious? Despearte?
The moment Andrew opened the door was the moment when the scent nearly overpowered him. Whoever the man was that stood in his property, Andrew was about to devour him. A rumbling command left his lips.
“Come here.”
When people looked at Andrew, they saw a tall, intellectual man with soft brown hair that fell in waves around his head. He didn’t need glasses, but he spent so much time in front of brightly lit screens that he’d decided to protect his eyes with blue-light lenses. Having placed his belongings in their proper place and changed into workout clothes, Andrew allowed himself five minutes of rest before he began his evening routine.
A quick workout, dinner, homework, one episode of whatever show he felt like watching, and then to bed. Andrew liked to keep his schedules; he worked best in patterns and known routines, thrived from the rigid structure. It helped his pack, too. When they needed to contact him, they knew exactly when to call on weekdays.
Andrew didn’t like to share his pack status. He didn’t like the way people’s opinions of him changed when he told them, didn’t like how he could see their thoughts shifting in their eyes, rearranging the way they would approach him. It made him exceedingly uncomfortable. He kept his personal life and his pack life separate. During the week, Andrew focused on his work and studies. Weekends were for pack activities–for the runs across the vast forested areas that surrounded their city, the stargazing, the song-howling, and fraternity.
There was a shift in the air around him. Andrew paused the music that blared around the exercise room, nose tilted up. What was that smell? His nostrils flared, following the pull of it. Andrew had never come across anything like it. It was sweet, enticing, making his mouth water. He popped his neck again, inhaling deeply. His instincts told him to find the source, to hunt them down.
Normally, Andrew would be able to ignore his wolfish drive. He’d shake it off and wait until the pack-run to give into his primitive drive. But he had no intention of doing that tonight. Running his tongue over his teeth, Andrew marched to the sliding glass door that led to his backyard. Someone was standing there, looking disheveled and–anxious? Despearte?
The moment Andrew opened the door was the moment when the scent nearly overpowered him. Whoever the man was that stood in his property, Andrew was about to devour him. A rumbling command left his lips.
“Come here.”