Page 2 of Jared

A young male lay huddled on the ground, clutching his shirt closed with his hands, his body wracked with sobs.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, don't do any more.”

Steve knelt down beside him. “Hey, it's okay, man. I'm not whoever that was. Let me see if you're all right, please?”

The man's scent stank of fear and the unmistakeable undercurrent of human. He also reeked of two different piss scents and the wet spots on his clothes told the tale of some of what the two men had done all too well. There was also a strong smell of semen on the human as well as the coppery tang of blood.

The young man peered at him. “I- I thought you were those guys. Are they gone? Please, I need to go home.”

Steve could make out two bright blue eyes shining wetly at him from under a mop of dark red hair. The man's fair skin was marred from where he had been hit, blood smearing his face where his lip had been split and purpling fingermarks visible along his cheeks and jaw. Understanding flooded Steve as he comprehended just why the young man's sobs had sounded muffled. Rage began to fill him, escalating as he leaned in closer to better see the young man's injuries. The closer he got, the stronger the scent of blood and semen and piss became, corrupting the far subtler sweet scent of honeysuckle and cinnamon. He felt his wolf pacing within, yearning to break free and track down those who had done this. This was far beyond righteous anger at a wrong being done. His wolf wanted to maim, to kill, to rip their throats out and gorge on their hearts.

Instead he asked, “What's your name?”

“J-Jared,” the young man stammered hoarsely.

Steve gently reached out a hand and cupped Jared's face. “I'm Steve. I'm not going to hurt you, Jared, but let me look you over, then we'll take you to get cleaned up, okay?”

Jared nodded, his eyes showing signs of shock taking hold.

“They tore my shirt. And pushed me down. They, they slapped me and one of them had a ring on. Then they, they, they-”

“”Shhh...I know what they did. Let's just look you over. Your teeth feel okay?”

Jared ran his tongue probingly over his teeth. “Yeah. I think so. Nothing seems loose,” he whispered.

“Let go of your shirt, all right?” Steve said soothingly. “I want to check your ribs.”

“Did-didn't hit those. I-I didn't fight back. They said...said...”

Jared's teeth had begun to chatter, the shock taking further hold of him.

“They said they'd not hurt you if you just did what they said?” Steve guessed, seething.

Jared nodded mutely, looking away.

Steve studied him. He needed to get Jared out of this alley. He needed to get him someplace warm, get some hot , sweet tea in him, and cleaned up. Get him cleaned up, the offending scents off of him. Someplace where the only scents on him were his own and Steve's. His wolf leapt within.

MINE!

When Jared had started his evening off, he had been in a fantastic mood. Everything had gone just right all day long. His boss had been in a good mood, store sales had been excellent over the previous six weeks and he'd rewarded the top sales staff with gift certificates from the local cineplex. Jared rarely went to the movies as the cost of tickets was prohibitive on his salary, especially if it was a 3D film and if he treated himself to snacks. After all, what was the point of going to see an action film or science fiction blockbuster if he didn't take advantage of the 3D effects on a big screen? Plus Jared simply did not consider it a true cinema experience unless one also had candy, popcorn, and a soda.

That's traditional. Don't mess with tradition! He told himself as he saw the amount of the gift certificate and realized he'd get to not only catch the film he'd so desperately wanted to see, but the voucher would cover the cost of snacks and the 3D surcharge. He idly wished there was someone he could go watch it with. He'd moved from his parent's apartment in small town Adkins to the college dorms of the state university, then when his parents died and he couldn't afford the tuition, moved here to the city, certain that he'd find a job and a cheap apartment and enjoy a bit of city life while he was at it. He'd found the cheap apartment and he'd found a decent enough job, but so far the city life wasn't as enjoyable as he'd imagined.

Sure, the movies at the local cineplex were first run and in a fancy theater. There were even several decent places to go see plays and the city boasted a ballet troupe and its own orchestra. There were even several good restaurants and gay clubs that catered to nearly every taste. The problem was two fold as he saw it. One was money. He made enough that he had a bit of cash between pay checks, so he could go out every once in a great while, and even order takeaway every now and again. There wasn't enough to make it a regular habit though. Then there was reason number two.

Going out and doing stuff is a lot more fun when you have someone else to do it with.Don't get me wrong, my co-workers are great. We just simply never seemed to make it past work buddy and they have their own friends and lives outside of work. My neighbors are a no go. I can't imagine old Mrs. Peterson wanting to go see movies with car chases and explosions or space ships and ninjas or whatever.

He'd decided that he wasn't going to meet people if he didn't put himself out there. Making up his mind that today had been a good day and a sign that it was his time, he put on some of the clothes he used to wear to parties when he was still at college and head to one of the clubs he'd been wanting to go to. He'd heard good things about it from chatty customers who came in to buy from Desmond. Desmond was also gay and he was a club rat. People came in all the time that seemed to know him from the clubs, and Club Paradise seemed an 'it' sort of place to be despite the cheesy name. Desmond had said that the name was leftover from when it had been a dive with low end strippers. The sort of places where in the 1970's they'd waited tables topless save for tassels hanging off their nipples, serving office drones in cheap polyester suits who came in for happy hour and stayed to avoid going home sober. That had closed down and the neon sign had remained so when the city finally decided to do something with the property and auctioned it off, the new owner decided to keep the name as a kind of schtick.

Whatever. As long as the music is good, the cover charge reasonable, and hopefully full of decent looking guys who'll at least talk with me and maybe even dance.

That had seemed to be going fairly well too. The cover charge had been surprisingly low and he'd not had to wait too long to get in. The music was perhaps a bit loud, but the dance floor was already becoming crowded and the beat set his blood pumping. He went straight to the floor and within minutes could feel hands settle on his hips and a body begin to grind behind him. He threw his hands in the air, and danced away. Another man appeared and danced in front of him, laughing. Jared danced until he was too hot and thirsty to continue, then made his way to the bar. He willed himself to not sit in the corner seat by the wall at the bar itself and took his chances by sitting at a small table that miraculously had no one already sitting at it. He had only just made himself comfortable when a member of the wait staff appeared and took his drink order.

He was on his second drink when two men approached his table.

“Hey, my friend and I were wondering if we could share your table? It's pretty full in here now and we didn't want to have to sit at the bar,” one of them said.

Jared smiled. He had hoped to at least meet someone to talk to, perhaps even make a new friend, and here these two good looking, buff men were asking to share his table.