Even with Bjorn’s shoulders providing a wide and solid base to stand on, Bjorn’s skin was slippery and wet, and Sebastian almost fell twice before he managed to stand up straight. If it hadn’t been for Bjorn reaching up and grabbing his feet, his hands closing all the way around his ankles, he wouldn’t have managed it at all.
Once he was upright and his legs felt somewhat steady, Sebastian looked out over the lake and the picturesque forest around them, taking a minute to enjoy the surreal view before looking down at Bjorn.
The werewolf’s head was tilted back, playful eyes meeting his and making his stomach swoop with unexpected fondness.
“Ok, now throw me,” he commanded, his whole body going jittery with excitement as he felt Bjorn’s shoulders tense in preparation.
Bjorn grinned, shifting his grip on Sebastian’s ankles and throwing him up and into the water.
Laughing like a lunatic, shocked at how high Bjorn was able to toss him, Sebastian landed feet first into the water and wasted no time swimming right back to Bjorn so that he could throw him again.
“Okay, one more time, but this time I won’t bend my knees,” he said. Before he could grab Bjorn’s shoulder to climb him again, Bjorn ducked under the water and moved between his legs, rising up underneath him and lifting Sebastian up with him.
Sebastian curled his arms around Bjorn’s head and grinned, holding on for dear life as Bjorn grabbed his ankles and practically pushed him up and onto his shoulders, once again tossing him into the air like he weighed nothing.
This time Bjorn didn’t wait for Sebastian to come to him, swimming over and lifting Sebastian out of the water as soon as his head breached the surface, lifting him right back onto his shoulders.
It was more fun than Sebastian had had in years.
* * *
Sebastian and Bjorn waded out of the water, grinning and dripping wet as they made their way onto the grassy slope leading into the lake.
Sebastian was panting, exhausted even though he hadn’t done much more than climb Bjorn and use him as a diving board, while Bjorn looked like he hadn’t exerted himself at all.
Sitting down on the soft grass, carefully averting his eyes from Bjorn’s swinging cock, Sebastian pinched his wet briefs and lifted the fabric up so that it wouldn’t cling to his package, wondering how long it would take to dry.
Bjorn dropped down next to him, close enough that Sebastian could feel the heat of his body, and leaned back on his elbows.
“So is this what you do all day?” Sebastian asked, lying back and looking up at the sky. “Run around your territory and go for swims?”
Bjorn looked down at him, smiling like Sebastian had just said the silliest thing.
“No,” he said, lying down and joining Sebastian in looking up at the sky. “I protect our territory.”
“Yeah?” Sebastian said, smiling to himself and shooting a glance at Bjorn’s wide shoulders. The werewolf certainly had the fierce protector look down pat – except maybe for how he dressed, but his sheer physical presence more than made up for the ridiculousness of his outfit choices. “What are you protecting it from?”
Bjorn wrinkled his nose. “Bad humans,” he said, his chest rumbling with the beginnings of a growl. “Hunters.”
“Hunters?” Sebastian asked, curious. “Do you have a problem with illegal hunting in the preserve?”
“Werewolf hunters,” Bjorn clarified with a scoff. “Want to hurt us.”
Sebastian blinked, not sure he understood. Werewolf hunters had been a thing before humans and werewolves made peace, but that was over a hundred years ago. There was no such thing as modern-day werewolf hunters – at least not that Sebastian had ever heard of.
“Werewolf hunters?” he asked, more than a little dubious.
Bjorn nodded. He sat up and twisted his torso, showing Sebastian his side and pointing down at his hip and upper thigh. “Hunters.”
Sebastian sat up and looked, noticing multiple little raised bumps on Bjorn’s skin, each roughly the size of a small pea. Sebastian brushed his fingers over the small bumps with a frown. It almost looked like…
“Did someone shoot you with ashotgun?” he asked, the skin over the bumps perfectly healed and smooth.
Bjorn relaxed his body, nodding and baring his teeth in a truly terrifying grin. “I killed him. With my teeth.”
Sebastian froze. He stared at Bjorn’s face, taking in his bloodthirsty grin and the way he had his teeth bared in vicious satisfaction, and all of a sudden he didn’t find it at all difficult to believe that Bjorn would kill someone he considered his enemy.
Was this why Bjorn was feral? Had he somehow been shot by hunters – regular, human and very stupid hunters – and then snapped and killed them?
