Unwilling

So, I made it to part two of my little story, thank the gods!

Since some readers were unhappy with my choice of cities, I changed locations throughout the whole first part. If you read the first part before I resubmitted it, you might be confused now. Sorry about that, but I didn't want to let that criticism go unheard :)

I'm having a blast writing this story so far! Please feel free to comment if you feel that there's something missing, or if you like it. If you like to listen to music while reading, try "Aesthesys" - it's free and it fits.

I want to thank CassieJo and roughboy18 for their excellent help!

Small disclaimer:

Suspension of disbelief is recommended. This story is about werewolves, and yes, I know, things like that are not supposed to exist. Bear with me on this ;) All characters are 18+.

***************

~*Darwin*~

It had been a strenuous weekend. Darwin loved his job and he loved nature, but it was demanding work and it always left him totally exhausted. Even though he lived on campus, he always went to have dinner with his father on Sunday evenings. It was the only evening he could somehow fit into his father's tight schedule, and the chance to stumble into one of the pack meetings was lowest. The one story house sat on a hill at the outskirts of Banes, right next to a small wood with a lovely little pond in the middle. It was near enough to the city to get help quickly if something happened, but far enough from the busy main roads to avoid nosy neighbors and traffic.

His adoptive father George opened the door before Darwin could get the keys out of his pocket, and smiled a one-sided smile at him.

"Hey there, boy. You're late!" George said with a happy voice, and moved his wheelchair out of the way.

"Sorry. There was a hold-up at base camp. Someone lost his Rolex, and we had to look for it," Darwin said, came in, and hugged his father. "What's for dinner?"

"Pot-roast." George moved his electric wheelchair out of the anteroom, while Darwin put his jacket away and took off his shoes. "Mary, Darwin's here!" George hollered into the house, and disappeared around a corner. Seconds later Mary, the young nurse / housekeeper stuck her head into the anteroom and pressed a quick, dry kiss on Darwin's cheek.

"Hey munchkin! Dinner's ready, hurry up!" she said, and was gone again.

Darwin walked after her, shaking his head. Even his father's apoplectic stroke hadn't been able to slow down his family so far. Some things would never change around here, even though his dad never had gotten over the loss of his strength, mobility, and rank in their pack. George had been their Alpha's enforcer for twenty-five years, responsible for security in their pack territory and the well-being of their Alpha. Now he was chained to his electric wheelchair, his face distorted due to the paralysis of nearly the whole right side of his body, and he had to keep Mary around 24/7. He had taken it first with anger, then with resignation. In the last year he had gotten better, happier somehow, and things were looking up.

Darwin walked through the rustic living room, only stopping for a moment to kiss the picture of his grandmother, who had been killed two years before. The kitchen smelled of pot-roast and steamed vegetables, with a faint note of fresh paint. It had been renovated just two weeks earlier, and the new maple covered kitchen units gave it a sunny, homey feeling. It somehow reminded Darwin of Jared. Sunny, cheery Jared, who tried so hard to look grumpy and unhappy all the time. Smiling, Darwin sat down vis-a-vis his father, who gave him a curious, funny look.

"How's university?" George asked, grabbing a bottle of apple juice to fill their glasses. With the new, low-set dining table it was easy for the older man to reach everything on it, but the height difference still felt funny and disconcerting to Darwin.

He grabbed his glass and took a big gulp of the sweet, homemade juice. Then he set the glass down with an unintentional, loud thud and cursed softly, before answering, "It's okay. I still haven't found time to enter the botany course I told you about, but that's fine. I can try next semester." Darwin had wanted to study botany since he was a kid, but when he had turned eighteen the Alpha had ordered him to major in business economics. Nobody knew why, but an order was an order.

George shook his head, fiddled around a bit with his drinking straw, finally seemed to find it to his liking, and took a sip himself. "I've never understood why Carl insisted on that. It's stupid. Are you sure you don't want me to talk with him?"

Carl Jefferson was their Alpha, and even though Darwin trusted and loved his adoptive father, he still knew that it would kill George to know the truth about his 'relationship' with Carl. George and Carl had been best friends for twenty-five years, and the doctors had explained in no uncertain terms what stress could do to George. He risked suffering another stroke if he didn't take it easy, and that second stroke would be his last. So what would happen if Darwin told his father about the things his best friend was doing to his adoptive son? About the 'late-night-meetings' in Carl's sound-proof cellar, about the marks, the bruises, the fear and the pain,... 'Don't think about it,' his inner voice demanded as soon as his mind started to drift towards that dark, ugly place.

Darwin didn't want to risk his fathers life, not even for his own. He smiled broadly and shook his head. "Nah, that's okay. It's not bad, you know. I'm learning a lot of pretty useful stuff."

'... not.' he corrected his words silently.

Again his father shot him a curious, thoughtful look, then he shrugged. Only his left shoulder moved, and the sight of it made Darwin's heart hurt. George had been a strong, well-built, outdoorsy guy before the stroke, but the death of his mother, Darwin's grandmother, and the accident in which his second wife had been killed shortly after had not only made his brain short-circuit, but also broken his heart and body.

"Okay, whatever rocks your boat. If you change your mind, give me a holler." He winked, and Mary chose that moment to interrupt their talk by walking in with a casserole full of steaming, glorious pot-roast.

Time flew by over dinner, with the three of them sharing their week's adventures. Afterwards they sat in the living room, sharing hot cocoa-- without the obligatory squirt of rum, since George wasn't allowed alcohol anymore-- and somehow, the topic switched to their pack. It always did, and it made Darwin get antsy and unsettled every time.

They talked about gas prices, movies, and about an incident where a police officer had shot a Miniature Pinscher in a home raid, then a comfortable silence settled. It was that moment when George decided to get more cocoa, and drove off into the kitchen. Darwin sighed into his half empty mug when Mary turned to him, pulled one knee against her chest, and mustered him with a slightly worried look.

"Did you hear about Giselle?" Mary asked, hands clutching her own mug tighter, never taking her eyes off him.

Darwin wrinkled his brows in confusion. Giselle was another submissive pack member, but neither was she someone special in the pack, nor was she in any way related to his family, or Mary. Just a soccer mom with three little kids, a poodle and a balding, happy husband.

"Giselle? No. What happened?" he asked, trying to decipher the strange flurry of emotions on Mary's face.

Mary licked her lips, and threw a glance over her shoulder to where George had rolled off to. When her eyes found Darwin again, her gaze begged him to keep quiet about what she was going to tell him. "Well, obviously someone broke into her house while she was alone at home. We don't know what exactly happened, but the police found her tied up, scared to death." She threw another gaze over her shoulder, than she added softly, "She was beaten up badly, just like your grandmother. But she survived."

Darwin blanched. Break-ins happened all the time, but his grandmother had died when somebody had broken into their house, and his father had found her tied up, beaten into a bloody pulp, and dead. She would have survived if she hadn't been lying on her back, drowning in her own blood.

"They never caught the guy," Darwin whispered, then he rubbed his hands over his face. "Does my father know about this?"

Mary sighed, and chewed her lower lip for a moment. She was young, only twenty-three, but in that moment she looked old and worried. "He knows about the break-in, yes. But I didn't have the heart to tell him the details. You know what the doctors said."

Darwin knew all too well. Everyone had reasons to keep secrets from George, and the amount of those secrets was growing slowly, but steadily over the years.

He drew a breath to answer, when George suddenly wheeled back into the living room and took a big gulp from his newly re-filled cocoa. "Wow, people, why so silent?" he asked cheerily, and stopped next to the couch. His eyes found Mary, then he added, "Did you tell him about the pack meeting?"

Darwin's gaze snapped to Mary, who suddenly looked guilty. "What pack meeting?" he asked, alarmed. This couldn't be good. Darwin hadn't been on a pack meeting since college had started, using the so called 'Student Clause' as an excuse. It was a good way to keep his distance from Carl, the Alpha, a distance he dearly wanted to keep.

This was another secret he had to keep from George, who explained, "Well, obviously someone is targeting werewolves, what with the break-in at Giselle's and so forth. So Carl has called for an emergency pack meeting, and he explicitly asked for you to come."

"A pack meeting, just because someone robbed Giselle's home?" That excuse smelled fishy, and it made Darwin giddy, but not in a good way. Had Carl finally found a way to get his hands on Darwin again, after nearly four months without an incident?

Nothing in George's face hinted that he had doubts about the reasoning. He just nodded, then shook his head, and sighed. "Well, they also tried to break into the pack headquarters, and someone blew up one of Carl's Jeeps, out in the woods. They didn't succeed with the second break-in, luckily, because there are files on those laptops we wouldn't want anyone to see."

Mary just nodded, agreeing to George's descriptions, then shrugged. "It's just a pack meeting, Darwin. We won't keep you from your studies, or your work. You're free next Friday, right?"

Darwin's mouth went dry. He actually was free on Friday nights, even though he chose to spend the night in one of the guide's quarters at work, but he didn't have to work until Saturday morning. There was no way he would get out of this. Shit.

"Yeah, Friday's good," he mumbled, feeling his lips go numb. "I'll be there."

~* Harry *~

Harry's world had always been small. Growing up in southern Texas, he'd lived with his mother, father, and his little sister in a village so tiny, most travel maps didn't even have a marker for it, and there was only one major road nearby used by a few local transportation companies. He had learned how to handle a tractor before he had learned how to ride a bike, his 'walk' to school had consisted of a 20-minute-jog to catch the school bus, and a 15 minute ride in the beaten old thing.

When his teachers had urged him to go to college and "get out of this dump" on the day he turned 18, he'd been afraid enough to have a nervous breakdown.

Just as afraid as he was right now, standing next to the doors of the locker rooms, waiting for the rugby team to come out after their Monday morning training. Waiting for Jared.

In Harry's world the Alpha was a person of respect and great influence. You listened to your Alpha, you didn't talk back, and you didn't bother him with mundane tasks. You didn't ask an Alpha if he fancied someone, and you didn't talk about private things. If he wanted you to know, he told you. If he didn't, you'd never find out about it. How the hell was Harry, being the submissive werewolf he was, supposed to quiz Jared about being an Alpha, if he couldn't ask out of fear of being right?

Sighing he ran his hands through his short brown hair. The whole thing was a stupid idea. More than stupid, moronic. If he left right now, maybe he could still--

"Harry." A coconut-scented mountain suddenly blocked the sun and towered over Harry, corralling him against the wall. Shit.

Harry could taste his own racing pulse on his tongue while he stared at a broad, shirt covered chest. The white shirt looked soft, like cotton or wool, and was tight enough that he could see the small pointed mounds the nipples made. Harry could literally taste the residue of water, showering gel, and shampoo on his tongue just from staring. God, this guy was gorgeous beyond belief—and he was Darwin's. Life sucked.

"Jared, hi," he croaked, unable to keep his voice casual.

Harry felt a piercing gaze wander over his scalp and down to his face. Never before had they been in such close proximity to each other, always keeping distance to avoid unsettling encounters. But now that instinctive distance was gone, and Harry's courage dissipated with the increase of his arousal. He pressed his back against the wall, silently praying for a wider cut shirt – his cock seemed to flourish under those eyes like a flower in the sun, straining against his jeans for everyone to see.

Well, for everyone except Jared. He was too busy leaning forward and sniffing Harry's shoulder to notice his state of arousal. If he smelled it, he didn't show, or he didn't care.

"How come you are standing here, and Darwin is nowhere to be seen?"

The question was casual, amused, and uttered lightly. Everyone who heard Jared would think he was making a good-natured joke. People knew Harry and Darwin were glued together at the hips. But Harry wasn't anyone, and he heard the slight disgruntlement in Jared's words. He also saw the increased tension in his shoulders, and the tightening around his eyes, up close and personal. Oh yes, Jared was definitely not happy that Darwin wasn't here.

It didn't do Harry's bravery any good though. His pulse sped up instantly, while he pressed his back against the wall more tightly. "He," he began, swallowed and gulped for air, "well..."

Thunder appeared all over Jared's face, darkening his cheery-good-ol'-pal-expression to something scary. Harry could feel Jared's breath crawling over the side of his neck, wafting against his racing pulse, and the air around them got so thick a spark could have combusted it in a second.

"He sent you, didn't he? A scared little lamb, prepared for slaughter. Are you supposed to tell me to back off? I won't, but I'll make you remember in explicit detail how things are going to be."

Jared didn't even wait for an answer. Fingers wrapped around Harry's arm, tightened to the point of pain, and then Jared whirled around and pulled Harry with him.

Walls, doors, and windows raced by as Harry tried to keep up with the furious pace Jared set to get them through the gym department, then up the stairs, right across the enclosed footbridge, and into Statsby Hall. A breath was all Harry could manage, then their nightmarish travel ended, and a door slammed shut behind him while he stumbled into the small room and finally ground to a halt.

Harry didn't have much time to get a look at the room he had been taken to, but that small prospect was enough to confirm that it was Jared's – the heady musk of sunshine and virile werewolf spoke for itself.

The interior of the dorm room was wondrous in its simplicity, not only because of the cleanliness, but also because there was absolutely nothing hinting that anyone lived there. The bed was made and there was not a crooked crinkle anywhere. The bookshelf was empty and unused, and the table next to the window was cleared and blank. How did Jared even work in such a spartan environment? His pens and notebooks appeared to have been stacked away into the drawers of the small desk-- if Jared even owned mundane things like that.

Harry did sympathize with the need to have a clean, orderly environment, but Jared's room had no personality, nothing homey or inviting. Furniture and storing space, nothing else. It felt lonely, and cold.

He turned around, only to meet Jared's enraged eyes.

"It's not what you think," Harry husked, frightened by that expression, and took a step backwards. As much as he wanted to flee, the only way out of the room was blocked by the sun-tanned, bulky male staring him down, and the windows were secured glass. He would break his bones jumping through that.

Jared's voice was melodic, peaceful and eerily calm. "What do I think, Harry?" he asked, emphasizing the name, and cocking his head curiously. His eyes never left Harry's face, but the muscles in his shoulders were bulging with the effort to stay put. They were the only thing that gave Jared's simmering rage away. He was obviously trying very hard to control it.

"You--, you think we're in a relationship, which we're not!" Harry stammered, and twitched when Jared took a threatening step forward. "I'm n-not here to stop you, really! I just--" he shrank back against the desk when Jared wordlessly took two more steps into his direction with his hands balled to fists. "I-I-I just need to know if you're an Alpha."

"And what would you do with that information?" Jared sneered.

This time Jared didn't stop his advance until he loomed over the shivering submissive werewolf. The sunny fragrance of coconut, warm body, and werewolf wafted over Harry like a cloud of alluring perfume, making his head swim and his heart leap against the inside of his chest. For a few seconds he wanted nothing more than to melt against the warm body in front of him, rub his cheek against Jared's broad chest, and maybe let his hands wander and touch what he assumed to be a decently sized cock. His fingers itched with the need to touch Jared, and he had to jam his hands behind his back to contain himself.

"Did Darwin send you?" Jared growled again, but Harry didn't answer.

His left hand grasped Harry's chin, lifted his gaze upwards until their eyes met, and Jared used the moment of shock to close the last few inches of distance between their bodies, molding his chest against the lean, shivering body before him. "Tell me. Did he?"

Harry's body instantly went on overdrive. He couldn't breathe for a few seconds, and when his lungs finally decided to obey the commands his brain sent he just gasped like a stranded fish. He could feel Jared's cock pressing against his belly, pulsing leisurely, fully engorged and obviously happy.

Harry tried to answer, but the only sounds that came out of his mouth were soft whimpers. His mind drew a blank, but his body knew the correct answer to Jared's force: instant, throbbing erection, paired with frantic arousal and need. His dick awoke from its semi-hard slumber to answer the calling of the stronger man's body, and with it came blissful, single-minded vacuity.

Encouraged by pressure his legs shuffled apart to give Jared's muscular body more room, which was rewarded with a happy growl, and followed by more delicious, hot pressure against his raging member. Everything Harry did was answered by more friction, warmth and pressure, like a never ending vicious circle.

Jared put both arms around Harry's shivering form, one Hand pressing against his shoulder blades, while the other hand went further and wound underneath his shirt. His fingertips drew thoughtless, circling patterns onto Harry's back, then his lips brushed against the tender, warm skin of Harry's neck. It was a soft, taunting kiss against his pulse, and it made Harry groan faintly with yearning.

"You can tell me, c'mon," Jared husked softly against his skin.