Feral Survival Tactics - ( Oats x Fading_Cards)

[Fading_Cards]

Evan breathed heavy, frantic breaths. Not nearly as lung burning as the ones he’d been huffing in only a few moment ago, but he’d still exerted himself hard to get back home. Beside him another man panted against his closed door, arm to arm, winding down from the chase, fleeing, and then hiding they had just had to do. Now normally he’d had given as well as he got in any fight, especially against mere humans. Yes, he was a tad short as 5’7” for the average guy, but his shoulders and chest were broad, his central center of gravity making him more difficult to push aside or knock over. He was a boon in a bar fight or playing hockey, and people also had the tendency to underestimate him because of his size, or if they knew he was were, because he was a Lynx. They were smaller weres, rarer since it was commonly only passed down from parents to children, but what they lacked in size they more then made up for in punch. They only needed to hit you once to make you go down. If this had been a normal situation, he would have been FINE…

But these humans had GUNS. With SILVER fucking bullets and trank darts. Silver manicles on their belts and who knows what the hell was in that van they all jumped out of. Maybe even a bit of magic on their sides because they were running after them to damn fast for a normal humans speed with all that shit they were carrying. It was NUTS.

All Evan had wanted that evening was some quality whisky, a nice chat with the elder madam jaguar the day before the full moon started. A peaceful night. Instead he’d gotten a few minutes at the small pub that catered to the small but still new to him were population of the town, and all hell broke loose. The place had tables set up outside thanks to the good warm weather, so he’d been out there for the fresh air when the van had pulled up. Being outside was probably the only reason why he’d been able to escape the initial onslaught. Not that he didn’t end up chased and shot at when the were next to him had hauled him out of his hidding spot, but they’d delt with it. If he’d stayed in that spot he’d have probably have been found anyway. A merry chase through the alleys one or the other of them knew and hauled the other through before they finally lost the bastard. Evan had luckily recognized the area and grabbed the other male by the arm nd quickly hauled him back to his own flat as fast as he could.

It seemed tonight would be safer indoors.

“Well…” he gasped out, panted for a moment more, “that was a huge clusterfuck, now wasn’t it?” a nervous laugh bubbled out of his throat. Then the shorter wavy haired brunette pushed himself off the wall and ambled towrds his kitchenette. Coffee. He needed coffee and…shit… he was bleeding. A nice glancing slice of a bullet on his arm that was refusing to heal properly. God damn BASTARDS. Shit his head was still to high from the chase for him to even properly FEEL it!

“So… my name is Evan… and who do I thank for not using me as a meat sheild out there?” he asked, trying to force himself to calm down. They were fine. They’d be fine. Shit, he shouldn’t have to worry about that… ”Ummm… that happen in this city often?” nerves and rage tumbled through him as he ran his hands through his hair, willing his ears to soften down from furry long tips to only slightly peaked human curves. During the chase, so close to the moon, some of his aspects had shown. His teeth sharpened, ears transformed to keep track of persuers, claws replacing fignernails and tufts of fur down his neck and shoulders. Now it all started to slowly recede as the survival instincts calmed down. Those hunters had been bold. Evan had never seen anything like it. He didn’t think everyone got away… oh god… this shit was crazy. What about his PACK!?! There were only five of them in all, and they were mostly different feline weres. Cat packs worked differently then a lot of other types, more indivual movement, less stipulation on species… they just needed others to occasioanlly watch their backs. It wasn’t a huge deal, but still, he was new in this city and they had taken him in thanks to his cousins good word. He’d only needed to break one of the younger tiger males nose. He wasn’t alpha of the group, but he sure as hell was no ones omega, he was beta, without the bitch part. He hadn’t dared challenge the elder jaguar. She knew what the fuck she was doing and he wasn’t going to mess with that. His father had taught him well in respecting those who had the knowledge… that was how YOU became the one with knowledge someday.

Now.. now that might all be flushed down with the shit.

“Fuck.”

 

[Oats]

Jace let his savior babble, remaining where he leaned against the door of the flat. Questions asked in a rush of nerves didn't often expect an answer, born as they were from a need to release tension. He was mighty tense himself -- sweating bullets, panting hard -- but not enough to warrant a verbal release. The burst of adrenaline that took him through the chase dropped steadily, tempering his more canine characteristics on the way. Fangs and claws retracted, nape fur disappeared, ears shrunk to standard human size. By the time Evan finished talking, Jace looked no less human than the mage-hunter-whatevers that upturned the pub.

"Naww." He gave a dismissive wave of the hand from where he sat slumped against the door. "It don't happen even four times a year, usually." The last couple times there were only one or two casualties. Of course, the last couple times the were-hecklers hadn't been mages packing an entire jewelery store's worth of silver. If he'd had a proper pack, the outcome of tonight's skirmish probably would've concerned him more. Wolves were a hell of a lot more fickle than felines about who they took in; a part-dog mutt like Jace couldn't expect a particularly warm reception from any of the local packs. He wiped crusting blood from his cheek with the back of a hand.

"M' Jace. Were community 'round here's pretty small, an' after tonight I figure it's done gone microscopic." A deep, rattling sigh forced its way past his lips. Felt like his thigh and side had been grazed by one of those silver projectiles. Didn't hurt too much, probably not serious. At just under 5'11", Jace was a big damn target, and he counted himself lucky that the hunter tailing them hadn't managed to get him anywhere fatal. He slicked black back from his forehead and stretched his legs out in front of him. Didn't realize how much they'd cramped til just now.

His nose twitched at the scent of coffee wafting from the kitchenette. "You don't want that," he called, in a deep, admirably calm voice. "Already jittery as fuck. Gonna give yourself a heart attack. Alcohol's okay, tea if you're like that. But coffee's just askin' for it." Particularly since this Evan fella seemed to be some kind of cat. Jace couldn't tell the difference between felines too well (maybe it had something to do with being a crossbreed?) but he knew from the old, somewhat stereotypical jokes that a cat on caffeine could bounce off the walls for hours.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here, but ya ain't a local, are ya? Talk like yer from outta town."

 

[Fading_Cards]

“Nope, not local at allll. Not even from this country actually,” he’d retrieved the container of instant grounds but paused before taking off the lid. “Naaah, coffees fine. Coffee puts me right now. To many years in high school drinking nothing but cola burnt out my caffeine receptacles or something. Could drink jet fuel and take a nap,” he yammered, obviously still wound up. He did shove the coffee container away and turned towards the fridge for a few beers.

Better safe then sorry.

He popped the caps off using the kitchen drawer handles and held one out to his impromptu guest to take.

“Four times a ye… shit man. The town I’m from… the last time we had a hunter that wasn’t some misguided teenager that needed a quick thwomping was yeeeaars ago. I think I was still in middle school. The guy only got one of us before the adults got him and gave the weres family the dudes canines as trophies. Actually, it was the same year I broke my first bone.” He paused and took a sip. “Uh, somebody else’s bones that is,” he clarified. Oh yes, that was a sweet memory. Evan liked his books, liked his study, but when someone started shit with him he ended it. He’d been a small short slip of a twelve year old when they’d gone up to one of the smaller towns north, for his dad to have talks with the wolf pack up there. The alphas college age son had bent over and thrown a pile of catnip in his face.

Broke the fuckers jaw.

The alpha actually hadn’t been mad about it, something about his son learning respect and his place. Evan’s own dad saw it differently and hauled him off to give him an earful about picking his fights. His mother had later given tips on how to get away with it.

“But yeah. It was a long time ago,“ he finished, before his mind whipped on to something else.

“Well crap… I hope at least the jaguar got away. She was pretty cool…,” he mused. Tried not to think to hard on the fact some of the people he socialized with at least once a week might be captured… or dead. He’d deal with it come the ugly sun of the morning. Right now, he was alive, at least one other were was alive, and that was great. All he needed to do was breath and let himself calm down.

A brief frown.

“Well I guess that’s my pard up in smoke.”

He’d have to deal with all that status stuff again. If the jaguar was dead or missing… hmm… gah, like hell he was submitting under anyone else. This time… this time he’d be alpha. What he had seen of some of the other weres and felines in this city told him he wouldn’t want to deal with their power tripping bullshit.

Definitely alpha this time.

Another thought.

“Damn… I guess pretty much the same for you huh?” he gave Jace a consolatory smile. “Unless your group weren’t all down for a drink?” he asked hopefully. Hey, at least one of them could walk out of this without to much of a mess to clean up.

 

[Oats]

Jace received the beer with a nod of thanks and downed half the can in a single swig. He breathed out, wiped his mouth with the back of his jacket sleeve, and propped the bottle up between his legs. "Jaguar?" One hand rose to rub thoughtfully at his jaw. "A woman, right? Tallish, a bit older, got a tongue on 'er like a whip? If we're thinkin' of the same jaguar, she'll 'ave gone down fightin' at least. Hate to cross that un' in a dark alley, if ya know what I mean."

He settled back a little more comfortably against the door. Didn't want to think too much about the others. The other canines 'round here might not have been awful brotherly, but when one of your kin went down at the hands of humans, you felt it anyway. Jace shook his head and sampled his beer.

"Eh. Wouldn't know. Weren't none too close with the wolves ya saw down there." He shrugged, just to show it didn't matter. "M' a half-breed. Ma was a plain ol' dog, so I ain't no proper wolf. Doesn't get me too far 'round here. Real exclusive types, city wolves. Ya go a bit further inland, closer to the prairies, they don't care there. Ain't so here." Jace realized he probably sounded like some country bumpkin, talking like that, but what else could he say? It was the truth.

Something occurred to him then; something that made his brows slant and his eyes turn up in Evan's direction. If they were the only two left of their respective pards (well, Evan was; he'd been packless since coming to the city) then said pards had virtually ceased to exist. This was supposed to cause a power vacuum of some kind, right? He didn't personally care for the politics of status, but...

"Hey. Last I heard, weren't too many of you cats down here. Ain't sayin it's what's happened, but if the rest're all wiped out... what'cha gonna do? Ain't that make you last of your kind?"

 

[Fading_Cards]

Ah, so apparently they had both come to the same conclusion in different ways. He made no comment about Jace’s more southern drawl and customs. The Lynx were himself had grown up chopping wood for the winter for when the electricity would die like clockwork during the work storms. He read lots of books, could build a computer from scratch, and still though ridding his dirt bike in the mud was the best time ever. He had no land to stand on and point fingers. Instead Evan drank some of his cool beer before replying. He’d just run a marathon, he needed the liquids.

As a first reply he gave a vague shrug and a grunt. “You make it sound like I’m the last man on earth,” he mused with a slight smile. It wasn’t nearly THAT serious thank goodness.

“Well… if I’m not… and if the jaguars gone… we see if we can parse it out and who I have to talk down or smack down to take charge. My pard held the central museum area, nice spot. Lots of little café’s and shit. Hate to see that area go to crap in the wrong hands. ‘Cause I don’t know if you know the cats around here all that well, but these city ones… the ones I’ve met other then that lady are really uppity self centered little prats. No way to rule a pard. My old mans alpha in our county. Five kids and twelve other felines and other were types of were under him. Two small of a group to really break in to pards, especially when one third of your ruling is your own offspring. All the wolves and such would go farther up north to the big canine packs. If anything he or the wolf alpha he talked to taught me, was that thinking only for yourself didn’t do the group any good at all. Flexible but firm mind and an inflexible firm hand is best,” he alliterated his plans.

“If I am the last feline…” he took a drink to think on that one a bit. “If I am… I guess I could take other weres under me. It would take some instinctual adjustments, but better then never having a pard at all,” he nodded as if he was speaking only to himself. He could go without a group, and as a Lynx it wouldn’t be nearly as painful as if he were, say, a lion. He had never been without a pard in his life before though, at least not for longer then that one month when he’d fist arrived here for his job. He didn’t want to know what it felt like longer then that. It didn’t help where he grew up, someone who was packless was that way for a REASON… they usually became the ‘nameless’ and would ‘disappear’ one night never to be seen or heard from again. Being alone just didn’t feel like a good idea to him. So if he WAS indeed the last feline…..

/’gone microscopic’… ‘ last of your kind’… ‘none to close to the wolves’…/

He suddenly looked at Jace in an all new light. A suspicious one.

“What are you thinking,” he eyed him up and down, gauging what kind of powerhouse he might be up against. He only vaguely knew how canine packs worked, though a lot of it was still observation and heresay. He had been told they were more violent with how they metted out who stood where. That and there was a lot more feral ‘claiming’ of some kind going on. Apparently it helped strengthen both the status of those in the pack by making it damn obvious who was where, but also strengthened the pack through more…basically driven bonds.

Cats it was more talk it out or duke it out to get the other on their knees to submit to a bite. Though there were rumours about female lions sometimes getting it on to show which bitch would control all the others and get first digs on the males.

Though personal Evan thought those were just teenage wet dream fodder.

“…. If your offering to be pack, sure. Just assume the position and I’ll give you a nibble," he didn't even think how 'assume the position' could be taken by another species. " If your thinking something else though..” his eyes became like steel, “No.”

 

[Oats]

Central museum... He searched his memory for the area while swishing a mouthful of beer. It got the tang of blood off his tongue, even if beer wasn't known for being the clearest tasting stuff around. "I hear ya," he said with a nod, after gulping down the beer. "Nice place. Shame if it went bad. Ya sound like ya got them qualifications, anyway, so."

He listened in silence to the rest of Evan's reminiscences, keeping a careful eye trained upon him. Looked like he was one of them ambitious types, with the right blood and experience and everything. Didn't much care what he did with those aspirations — he wasn't a cat, after all — but the fact they were both at the center of the power vacuum sort of changed things up. Evan was giving him a look that definitely didn't spell 'kindred spirit'.

"Ain't thinkin' nothing dishonorable," he said easily, and drained the last of his beer. "Prolly thinkin' the same as you." Holding the lynx's eyes, he pushed up from the floor and straightened out his clothes. If Evan was going to be like that about it, well.

He almost laughed at the ultimatum. Assume the position? Seriously? He wasn't gonna get on his knees and let this cat take him like some four-cent whore. He might've been a half breed, but he had more pride than to just do that. He set the bottle aside and assumed a defensive stance. "I respect ya," he said, "an' I owe ya one, but I reckon even you don't think I'm just gonna let ya have me." he swept his eyes over Evan's form, appraising. "Ain't gonna lift my tail just like that. We settle this 'un like men, y' hear?" He expected Evan to take him up on the challenge. If he did win, then fine — at least he'd have respected him as a worthy adversary.

 

[Fading_Cards]

If someone challenged you and you accepted, you made it clear you had and got ready for a rumble. If you were challenged and you only wanted to change some terms, you spoke and got it all out in the open to pick apart to avoid having to challenge. If you weren’t interested in the challenge at all… you walked away. Walking away unlike others wasn’t seen as a weakness either. It was simply seen as just another opinion and battle form. It was how a lot of violence was avoided amongst the more hot tempered breeds, or to avoid obviously stronger weres picking on and mauling weaker ones that in no way could win the fight to simply give the other a power trip. Felines unfortunately were commonly known to play with their food. This method prevented other weres from being seen as food. If a challenging were attacked another that had decided to walk away, the shame was immediately on the attacker. ‘Backstabber’ was a foul word amongst most of them. If you always walked away from challenges though, you would never amount to anything and probably end up packless.

It was a good manner of checks and balances. At least the ones Evan was familiar and comfortable with. He did not know, or at least for the moment didn’t care, that other species when challenged had to rise to it.

As far as he was concerned, Jace was now an just obstacle in his way. If he won, he’d have started a pack, which would help get others to join. If he didn’t… well he wouldn’t. By the sounds of it Jace didn’t know how to be alpha if it hit him square in the head. At least that’s what he told himself, adrenaline from earlier and hackles rising from an accepted challenge making him not THINK like he should.

“Fine then,” he laid down his own beer stalking, calm with purpose, up to the other man. Kept a steady eye on his face, ready to react to any slight twitch in them that could show where he’d move. Stayed light on the balls of his feet, skirting as closely as he could…

Snapped his arms out, lightning fast. Shooting to grab and hold down the canines upper arms to the door. A shove and keep those arms from swiping at him and he’d be gold. Strike attack and teeth would be around throat and it would all be over before they knew it started.

Stalk and pounce.

That was the plan anyway.

He forgot he was dealing with a canine.

Those fuckers could fight DIRTY.

 

[Oats]

Jace returned Evan's steely look with his own diamond-hard stare. Didn't act like it, but he was no stranger to fighting for dominance. As a half-blood, he'd done a hell of a lot of fighting just to stay halfway up his pack. A pureblooded wolf who'd won as many skirmishes as he would've earned himself the title of beta.

Well, damn.

In the back of his mind, Jace had always figured it would come down to something like this. He didn't hold anything against Evan (after all, if he'd been in his position, he'd have done the same thing) but a challenge was a challenge. No wolf, no matter his pedigree, would turn up his belly on command. That Evan would even ask him to was sort of insulting itself. What did he think? That mutt blood didn't warrant a pureblood's respect? Wouldn't have been the first time he'd encountered this mindset, and he didn't hold Evan accountable for it, but he'd be damned if he just let it slide.

He expected Evan would strike first. He let him -- didn't budge as the lynx shot forwards and slammed him back against the door. It rattled against the force of their bodies. Later, his shoulders and back would ache, but adrenaline kept the pain currently at bay. Recovered in an instant from the expected impact, he sent a knee hurtling towards Evan's middle. That should take the wind out of him. If the lynx sprung back to avoid it, he'd still have put some space between them. Was all that mattered this early on in the game.

 

[Fading_Cards]

Evan had been distracted by trying to swoop in to take a bite of the other weres throat, but that was made null and void when he suddenly felt like his stomach was leaving his chest. He stumbled back, not wanting to leave himself close enough to Jace to be attacked while he himself was gasping for air.

Forcing himself upright while still sore and gasping he snarled. Not so easy, he’d need to be beaten down a bit first. Alright, he could deal with that.

He returned to being light on the balls of his feet and charged again, needed to keep the other man cornered. This time once he got in close enough to get kicked he whipped to the side, twisting and aiming an uppercut to bastards face. Messy from the change in angle, but none the less powerful to ring bells with a good hit.

His father would have smacked himself upside the head for leaving so much of himself open and underestimating his foes… but he wasn’t here Hell, the man probably would have told him some truths about canines that would have stopped this in it's tracks, but the man had perhaps ill-advisedly decided not to. Among most felines unless their species had a pack mentality sex was never used for dominance. It was a sensual or lust driven thing that could happen between anyone as long as they weren't relations for the simple enjoyment of it. Not that they went around having orgies everywhere... felines were also as a general rule picky little fuckers. Either way if Evan had been less of a adrenaline driven beast at the moment, some clarification would calm him straight down.

As it was, instead he was all but deaf to human tones as he went for blood.

 

[Oats]

Jace caught his breath while Evan did, opting not to spring. Cats were better at pouncing and pinning. He wasn't going to try and beat Evan at his own game: instead, he'd take whatever he doled out and return it threefold. Hybrid vigour -- the only blessing mutt blood bestowed upon him -- had made him sturdy enough to perfect this technique.

Evan's blow connected with his jaw, though not quite centered. He thanked the laws of physics for upsetting his strike, somehow managing to keep his balance while a momentary vertigo made the room swirl. He tasted blood. Probably cut a lip on his teeth.

The moment his head cleared, Jace flung himself straight for the lynx. He hurled a fist towards his chest, followed up with a head-level jab in case the he dodged the first. There wasn't much strategy to his attacks, with good reason: most patterns could be countered the moment you figured them out. If Evan couldn't name his game plan, he thought, he'd never lose equal footing.

He had to admit, Evan was good for such a wiry little guy. A real competitor. To his mind, the fire in Evan's eyes was a sign of respect -- proof that he took him seriously enough to fight with all he had. Even if Jace did win this round, he'd hand the status gunk over to Evan anyway. It was never about being alpha. Personal pride, maybe principle, but never politics. Never had a head for that pack management stuff. Hell, right now, he didn't have a head for anything other than winning.

 

[Fading_Cards]

To Evan, to fight when you didn't even want what you won would have boggled his mind. That didn't matter though as it wasn't like he was asking while dodging another breath taker and getting hit straight in the forehead. He saw stars but didn't back out, choosing instead to flail his arms out to grab on to whatever of the other male he could. Arm, shirt, hair, whatever. Grapple and keep in close while he snarled, ready to strike Jace's vulnerable neck and force submission. His ears had changed again, claws out in force to hook in cloth and scrape at skin.

He'd hold on until fur was flying in chunks like two alleycats if he had to. He wasn't submitting to a dog. Purebred or mixed-whatever he didn't care, just hell no. He'd never live down to his family back home.

Evan needed to get more of an advantage. The wall trapping Jace was good, but gravity....

With wild pull, dead weight, and push the shorter of the two attempting to haul them both down to the floor, taking any harsh jostling in stride, to try and roll on top of the other and KEEP him down.... pin him and let him wear himself out belly up beneath him. At least that was the crack plan.

 

[Oats]

Jace hadn't thought the fight would devolve into a grappling match so soon. Well, he wasn't complaining: he'd always been best at close-quarter combat. Hair too short for pulling, muscles just strong enough to ward against dislocating an important joint, clothes... ah, shit. His jacket was far too easy to cling to. No wonder he was struggling to shake the lynx off -- his claws were embedded in false leather.

A second burst of adrenaline sent the blood thudding through his veins, racing hot as magma under his skin. Evan was trying to trip him up. No, he realized, as his own claws elongated in a bid to shred off the sleeves of his jacket; Evan was trying to get on top of him. 'Assuming the position', probably. Jace managed to rip a sleeve off at the shoulder before they hit the floor. The moment he felt himself connect with the kitchenette tile, thrust his weight against Evan in an attempt to flip him onto his back. If they were going to finish this on the floor (wait, he thought, of course they would -- this was a battle for dominance) he'd end up the one on top, in both senses of the word.

Both fangs and claws were now fully extended, flashing by the dim light of the room as he struggled against his opponent. Whether spurred on by overconfidence or simple animal instinct, Jace's body had already begun to anticipate the battle's conclusion. Blood rushed south. There might've even been something eager to the deep snarl tearing from his throat.

 

[Fading_Cards]

Instead of fighting against the momentum, Evan rolled in to it, using the others toss to be on top against him. He'd used the same tactic a lot as a child, rolling until he could knock a bigger sibling off with the wall or furniture, or simply stop the tumble with him the hovering assailent. The growls and snarls were much more potent then childlike squeals, teeth and claws and rippling muscles battling against anothers to find some sort of advantage. Hot heavy breaths as they also faught for air.

His shoulder and back hurt from hitting the floor, and one clawed hand found itself tangled in released leather, making him have to flick it off while still keeping his grounds.

Upright for a moment he plunged an elbow down like a knife to the chest to attempt to knock out his breath. At the same time he shoved down heavily in to the floor over the other man to stop them RIGHT THERE.....

and felt somthing a bit bigger and warmer where their hips met.

A slightly offended look crossed his face and he growled, instinctually slashing out a arched hand to take flesh, but the suprise had made him pause...

 

[Oats]

Well, damn. Jace had put so much energy into flipping Evan over that it only helped him gain the upper hand. Wasn't much he could do now but keep Evan's claws away from his throat or face. Blinding your opponent in a bid for dominance was a bit extreme and punishable by all but the most backwards wolf and dog packs, but he didn't know if cats held the same code of honor. For all he knew, cats crippled their rivals routinely. Couldn't take any risks.

A thin sheen of sweat glistened on exposed skin, eyes narrowed and locked onto Evan's. They widened in shock as the elbow embedded itself between his ribs, expelling the breath from his lungs in a single wheezing puff. When their hips met, he drew it back in sharply. Unlike the persistent throb where his chest had been bruised, that pressure was not at all unpleasant. Without even thinking to, he bucked back against the lynx's hips.

He almost wanted to laugh at Evan's offended look. What, was he jealous? Jace wasn't even half hard yet, and already his jeans struggled to contain him. Well, he'd get to see what he was packing soon enough. Capitalizing on Evan's hesitation, he swatted the lynx's clawed hand aside and jammed his forearm straight against his windpipe. There was no need to break the skin there; after all, he didn't want to kill him. Just get him winded enough to throw off and mount.

 

[Fading_Cards]

Evan had throw a hand up towards the on-coming blow, but it was to late. Gagging, his hand grappled to pull the other weres arm away, the other flying to rub nd grip desperatly at his windpipe, un-able to breath in for a rather painful moment. His eyes went wet and his body stopped pressing down, distracted by the loss of air and pain, survival instincts, even as he started gasping in breaths again, but still un-able to curse the canine bastard. Getting off while they were... what was this? A GAME to him?

But his concentration had been shot for a moment, and as anyone who had hunted wild prey, it only took that moment and suddenly you were the one danger.

 

[Oats]

Jace hardly minded the sting of Evan's claws digging into his sleeveless arm, pulling it away. He'd got his hit in, broke Evan's momentum, and now he had the opening he'd been waiting for.

Fangs bared, he shoved hard at Evan's chest. Any grudge he might've earlier held was drowned by the lust-and-adrenaline cocktail surging through his veins. The fact Evan hadn't seemed aroused sort of surprised him -- weren't cats supposed to be more wanton than canines? Maybe he'd realized he Jace had the upper hand, and wasn't looking forward to owning up. Couldn't blame him. Losing a fight you picked yourself sucked pretty hard.

Oh well. It wasn't his pride on the line.

He hauled himself onto the smaller figure, pinned his arms down against the tile. Ground against him, this time intentionally, and growled. His cock strained against the too-small confines of his jeans, and oh fuck yes, that felt good. Just to be ironic, he gave the lynx a 'little nibble' along the curve of skin where neck and shoulder met. His fangs barely broke the skin (again, killing him wasn't the goal) but certainly drew enough blood to scent. Evan could struggle all he wanted, but unless he was strong enough to lift his weight, he doubted he'd do any real damage now.

 

[Fading_Cards]

Cats were indeed more sensual, but they kept their sex and fighting mostly separate. Sharp retractable claws and soft sensitive bits in intimate moments commonly didn't mix very well. This was why the shorter male was being thrown for a bit of a loop.

Evan flailed in a last ditch attempt while he was still catching air, but failed miserably as he found himself at the were canine’s mercy. He wriggled to try and get his arms free...

... and FROZE as the man trapping him down ground in to him with a VERY obvious hard on, setting off a tremor of pleasure from his own groin. Alright, there was friction issues and then there was THIS... this sure as fuck wasn't an oops or for giggles Evan realized, cold water on his heated rage. His eyes snapped to Jace's and he could see the intensity. They'd both been fighting but for completely different wars.

The Lynx started to struggle anew for a moment, but stopped short as sharp teeth clamped around his bruised throat. Pinpricks of sharp pain that were almost lost in all of the other dull wounds he carried, but the clamp of jaw around his jugular was still clear as day.

He went limp.

Jace had won.

"Fuck," he cursed, panting hard, trying not to squirm from the heat and pressure being forced on his hips. "Alright... get off of me. Shit." When the canine didn't immediately get up and smirk at him in triumph he tried to give the man the dirty eye what he could in his position. "What the hell are you doing?" He began to squirm again, though not buck or punch anything. He'd lost. Now he just needed to slink away a bit and lick his wounds, so to say. The others hot body pressed down on him without the excuse of fighting was starting to cause him to develop his own problems with nature. He abruptly stopped moving his hips when he let out a small moan. "Damn it..."

 

[Oats]

"What d'you think I'm doin'?" Jace figured the lynx was in denial about having lost. He'd be pretty sore about it too, if he'd gone and lost a challenge he'd offered himself. All the same, he expected Evan to hold up his end of the bargain and -- what did he call it? -- assume the position. Only fair. Deep sound rumbling in his chest, he descended to lap the blood from Evan's throat, and smirk against the punctured skin. "Ain't took ya for the type to play dumb. Fight's over, but y'know the deal ain't done 'til the ritual's pulled through." And by 'ritual' he meant 'claiming', but it sounded a little more cultured this way. Though he might've been a quasi-bumpkin, Jace didn't want to sound like a total hick in front of these city creatures.

He moved against Evan with a rhythm, dragging his claws through the fabric of the lynx's shirt. He slipped his hand betwixt the shreds while pressing against him, savouring the combined ache of his injuries with the decidedly more satisfying throb of a swelling cock. The fact that he could feel Evan's stirring in response only heightened his anticipation. 'Course he wanted it; it was just his ego getting in the way of being a good sport. Happened all the time. Jace was pretty sure he'd change his mind soon enough.

Grinning a fanged grin, he took one of Evan's nipples between his fingertips and twisted. "Fair fight's a fair fight," he murmured, voice low and rough as fresh-ground gravel. "Don't make it too hard on yerself."

 

[Fading_Cards]

Evan stayed still as sharp nails made quick work of his T-shirt, allowing himself a confused whimper. "What? I don't~NNngg. Ah! Shhhiiii.. stop!" he protested as his body arched what it could from the playful tug on his chest. To say he felt bit bewildered was a understatment. The fact his mind, run ragged and raw from just the earleir chase for his life and now being faced with both loosing a status fight, rage, pain, power and now THIS...

"But the ritual IS done," he flabbergasted. He'd been knocked down and bitten while submitting. As far as he was knew that was that. Different feline species had slightly different nuances after that, minor rituals or scarification rights, but you usually at least got to get back up on your own feet first!

His arms, now free, drove in to the canines hair, pulling back to try nd drag the large male off of him to get some breathing space. This was to close, to intimate for...

"Get OFF me you mongrel dog... wolf...fucking whatever! What the HELL man!"

 

[Oats]

"What's your deal?" He let Evan pull him back just enough to make eye contact, and glared. "Ya can't challenge a guy to a status bout an' chicken out at the claimin'!" That was even more dishonorable than walking away from a challenge. Canine code of honor emphasized losing with dignity — that is, taking it like a man when you got beat down — and he'd simply assumed felines did the same. "Quit yer squirmin' already. Ain't over til we're spent, an' ya know it."

How was he supposed to believe otherwise, when the heat from Evan's groin just proved it? Though the lynx had managed to put some distance between their faces, their hips were still delightfully pressed together. Jace couldn't stop himself grinding the bulge of his painfully trapped cock against his fellow survivor's — the friction was the closest thing to relief he could get until Evan stopped being such a literal pussy about a lost contest. "Jeez." another tweak to the nipple, harder. "Ya act like ya never lost a status fight 'fore."

 

[Fading_Cards]

Evan spluttered for a moment, glaring a dirty eye up at the taller man over him, though did release his hair. His hand dropped to finger the teeth marks in his neck, setting off small shivers along his nerves. The other gripped hard on one of Jace's shoulders, trying to keep them apart enough to let in some AIR. Cooler, not musk and copper laden AIR. Those scents just set his mouth watering.

"But I am clai~UUNNnn...Ahshiiiit," he was cut off from further protesting as both their hard-ons were shoved together tightly. His still fur tipped ears swivelled forward as Evan's face went red in slightly different way then it did during fighting rage. He failed in stifling the small cat like mewl from tumbling past his lips as his hips bucked up in to the offered resistance. "Damn," he licked his lips absently, realizing exactly what he was grinding against and apparently it was... gratuitously sized. At lest it seemed that way by what he could feel. He collapsed, limp for a moment, back on to the floor while he let himself just calm down and BREATH. If his body just so happened to writhe a little while he was gasping for breath, he wasn't going to make a deal of it right now.

"You.... you bastards get randy when you fight, huh?" he finally deduced. he could understand to an extent why. There was lots of close contact and rubbing and the like... he himself had popped a boner or two during his early teenager years when getting in fights with the troublesome leopard boys and their older sister when she was feeling bitchy. He'd only just get up, whether he lost or won, and went off to take care of himself somewhere else like his mother and uncle (and boy was that conversation with that man uncomfortable and edging on creepy) had told him to do when they had respectfully each taken him off at different times to give him 'The Talk'. Those incidents though died away as he grew older and generally for felines was considered an amusing youth awkwardness.

But Jace was not a cat, and he'd always been told canines generally had less control over themselves. Well... that was a bit of a folly to find out was true.

Now it wasn't like his species were prudes, hell no, they just separated things differently. It wasn't like Evan himself was a prude either. He'd gone to college, found people that didn't mind he was short and didn't think of him as 'insert older siblings name' little brother' and revelled in that tried and true feline curiosity. Now mind he hadn't gotten up to much since moving to the city, it was big, he was adjusting, and a lot of the city weres he met rubbed him the wrong way. He wouldn't have minded some fun, but the way this was coming about.... shhhyeeeaaah it had thrown him for a loop.

But another thing about cats was they always landed on their feet.

"Fuck.... alright man, you win damnit," he looked up at his captor, lips drawn in a straight line. Then one eyebrow rose as he tried not to laugh at the thought that just crossed through his head. "Do dogs only do it doggy style?" and finally he smirked. Oh he was still PISSED he'd lost the fight, livid even, but he figured he'd been run down from his prime from the earlier escape for his life.

He'd beat the pups ass later.

Right now though, he was going to have to own up. Whatever that meant exactly. He couldn’t help that if his species nature made him wonder enough to go along for the ride.

 

[Oats]

"Wh..." An expression of genuine confusion settled across his face. 'You bastards get randy when you fight'? What did he mean to imply -- that he hadn't known that before they fought? Jace almost laughed. Oh, hell no. It looked like he'd have to show Evan the ins and outs (so to speak) of canine dominance. He flashed a fanged grin. "That's some way to put it."

He'd won and lost his fair share of status bouts since he was old enough to partake in them. He hated to admit the lynx was right, but fighting and arousal were basically synonymous to the collective canine mind. Must've been ten, fifteen years ago now, but the first time he'd beat down a guy who questioned his honour, he distinctly recalled both himself and his opponent struggling not to come just from grinding against one another. (For the records, his opponent came first. He'd always been a bit proud of that.)

At Evan's admission of defeat, Jace smirked his satisfaction. Looked like the lynx had finally come out of denial. He shifted atop the smaller frame, and was just about to lean in to clean his jawline of blood when he voiced a particularly bad pun. Jace's expression dropped to something best described as 'sorely unimpressed'.

"Betcha been wantin' to use that line all night," he said. "You're real funny. You cats think you're the only ones who can get creative, don'tcha?" With a sharp grin, he slid a broad hand between their bodies and gave Evan's crotch a firm, teasing squeeze. "You ever had a mutt in ya?" Jace leaned down, growled in his ear. "Lemme tell ya summin' 'bout crossbreeding, Evan. Ma Nature's gave us a little summin called 'hybrid vigour'. Makes us impressive where it counts." He bucked his hips forwards, emphasizing the view of the massive bulge outlined by clinging jeans. Though uncomfortably packed down by the restraining denim, his cock and balls were fully engorged. Every brush of their hips made him want to whimper, but he was far too proud to debase himself to a whining pup in front of his prize.

 

[Fading_Cards]

Evan's immature little giggle fit ('nerves', he'd swear later) was cut off and replaced by a low, breathy moan as he felt Jace's hand squeeze over his jean covered member.

"Ahh...um.. no, can't say I have. Shit, hybrid wh~...oh, like... Ligers or something right?" crossbreeds that ended up producing larger offspring. Apparently this guy was claiming that for his dick. Though by what the brunette could see and feel... well maybe he was right. Or just lucky. It took him a moment to tip his eyes away from the sight, huge bulge dangerously close to all of him as he fidgeted a little, blood hotly flowing downwards and denying his brain fuel power. "Just a few feline weres, but mostly humans. The... uh... the wolf back farther up north where I lived kinda almost religiously kept to themselves," he clarified both his sexual history and, unknown to him, why he didn't know all of the nuances of werewolf custom. He didn't clarify what genders he'd slept with, but that was because he really didn't care. He was perhaps the more 'equal opportunity' out of all of his siblings, even brought a human boyfriend home for thanksgiving last year. Though that was more to watch his sister drool over him and know he was off limits. Evan was still pissed she'd slept with two of his best high school buddies and then pulled such a bitch act that they wouldn't even talk to HIM ever again. The guy had wondered why Evan had been gleefully jumping him like a teenager while they'd been up there, while when they were down at college he was relegated to only an occasional booty call.

Flaunting his musk all over his sisters house had been a FANTASTIC aphrodisiac.

That, thought, was not the here and now. The here and now was hot, panting breath, ripped shirt, bare perked nipples and WAY to much fucking clothing down past both their hips. Yes, he was not at all pleased with how this had come about, but now that he was wound up Evan sure as hell wasn't turning Jace down. Only the sleeker hunting cats were cock teases, and he'd long since figured out that pissed him off. So to get things moving his hands boldly groped the offered package in the front of the were canines jeans with a smirk, tracing the outline of its thickness, gauging what he could.

"If you think your creative, or impressive, you better start showing me or this curious cat is gonna get bored and go play with someone else’s balls," he quipped, before dropping his fingers to his own pants to start to take them off. He LIKED these ones, he didn't want them ending up in shreds like his shirt.

 

[Oats]

Jace didn't think ligers actually existed, but hey, Evan was the cat here. "Yeah, ligers." He licked his lips in an attempt to clear them of blood and restore moisture. If they weren't cut already from the fight, simple dryness would've chapped them good. All this pouncing and grinding and groping had turned his mouth dry as a desert in July. "That explains things," he murmured mostly to himself, half-admitting that he should've anticipated it. His pa's pack, down near the interior, had been pretty self-contained as well. Most conservative canine packs lacked the openmindedness to interact with other species on a routine basis.

But that was neither here nor there. Evan's hands on his clothed dick pulled him back to the moment, where he landed with a sharp inhalation and groan to match. "Nnngh! Shit, that's... oh, fuck..." His cock struggled to twitch in its restraints, a pleasurably dull ache radiating upwards from the trapped organ all the way to his stomach. As much as he longed to buck against the lynx's grasping hands, he forced himself to slide back enough to give him room to strip. He'd intended to just rip those pants straight off, but it looked like Evan wanted to keep them in one piece. Fair enough. He could turn his attention to stripping himself instead.

Jace all but tore off his belt and pried open his jeans. One had to wonder why he even bothered with underwear: his erection, every inch as thick as he boasted, stretched the fabric to its limits. A wet patch soaked into the cotton where his bulbous cock head pressed against it, rendering the fabric almost translucent against the deep red skin. Jace yanked himself free of the extraneous garment with one hand, cupped his swollen tender balls with the other, and bit back a groan. Yes, he did think he was impressive -- he'd been told so enough to warrant a little egotism.

He grinned. "Like what ya see?"

 

[Fading_Cards]

Evan sat naked on the cold floor, leaning back on his hands with his legs sprawled in front of him on either side of Jace's body. He was taking in the sights with as casual an air as he could muster, considering he was still breathing heavy as he wound down from the fight and his own erection was slowly growing, lolling insistently at his thigh. He also didn't want to let on that the sight of the canine cursing and twitching when Evan had played with him had riled him right up a wall.

"I can see your classmates probably had some pretty lurid nicknames for you in the locker room," he replied with a smirk in a round about way of saying 'yes'. He scooted and leaned forward, freeing up his hands. His right grabbed hold of his own hard on, making him emit a low mewl for deep in his throat, coaxing it to fullness with some well placed strokes. Just like the rest of him it wasn't tall, perhaps seven and a half in all, but it was gratuitously thick and sturdy. Overall, he wasn't hung like the lucky bastard in front of him, but he was dutifully happy with what he'd been dealt. You REMEMBERED he'd been fucking you for at least the next day or two clearly.

By the looks of things people definitely remembered JACE too.

His free hand reached forward, wrapping his fingers around the other mans cock, thumb stroking at the underside in circles as his eyes flipped up to look the canine in the face. He leaned in and flicked his tongue over the hot red infused head, tasting salt and musk over skin. "You do know you dangle something like this in front of a cat they simply HAVE to play with it," he stated with a smile. Not true, but he'd been to curious not to touch and taste and smell. "Be glad I decided to put my claws away to play nice," the second lick was slow, his tongue broad and starting below the fraenum on the cocks underside, then swirling up and around, even prodding in to the slit at the tip to clean up all of the so far spent pre-cum.

Oh, Evan knew what he looked like. Completely naked, roughed up, in front of a still mostly dressed man with each of his hands on a cock and laving at the were canines like a slut. That was the point though. One thing felines learned about sexuality was it could be used for power. He may have lost the claiming fight. He, apparently by werewolf rules, was required to be in the bottom position. By HIS rules though, that didn't mean he couldn't be in control of the proceedings. After all, one across the board rule for any male was once you had them by their dick, you could lead them anywhere.

"I don't know about you, but the tile is pretty cold. You wolves have some weird rule about doing it on the floor? Cause if not, I have a perfectly good bed. Or couch. Counter even," he allowed himself to pur with that, starting to stand up, one hand still around Jace's cock, giving small, soft tugs to tease him. He didn't know if he was allowed to get up, or if there was something else he was supposed to be doing first, but it was better to ask forgiveness then permission. That and his bed and couch had lube nearby them. He didn't know about were canines, but he sure as hell didn't get wet like a bitch in heat up his ass.... and he was going to want that. If he was going to loose, he might as well enjoy it.