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Saul meekly entered the bar that was about half a block away from the sports club where he trained. He wasn't much of a drinker, but the memories of the incident were especially strong on account of its anniversary, and he figured a mojito or two would blur them enough that he could ignore them. He slid up to the bar, where the man on the other side welcomed this unfamiliar face with a friendly smile. "Howdy, stranger. What can I get for you?"

The bartender looked to be a bit older than Saul. Not by much - maybe five or six years - but enough to carry a fair measure of wisdom on his face. His wiry physique was a stark contrast to Saul's muscular build, as was the neatly-parted brown hair to Saul's blonde surfer mop.

Saul grunted out the lump in his throat. "Mojito, please. Heavy on the mint."

The bartender dutifully began making the drink, maintaining eye contact the whole time. "So, what brings you out of the weight room and into our establishment this evening?"

"The weight room?" Saul asked quizzically.

"You work at the health club down the block, right? I see you in there just about every day with someone. Some of the patrons here have even asked about you a few times. They wonder if you actually go home to sleep or if you just have a cot upstairs."

Saul let out a nervous chuckle. "I like to stay busy."

"Well, glad you took some time out of your workouts to pay us a visit." The bartender extended his hand. "Name's George, by the way."

Saul smiled. "Saul. Saul Morrow."

"Nice to meet you, Saul." The two shook hands vigorously. "You ever do any acting, Saul?"

"Acting? No, not really. Why?"

"I dunno," George replied as he presented the drink to his customer. "That name just sounds familiar. I could've sworn I saw your face on TV or something." George leaned in with a wry smile. "With a body like that, I thought for sure you'd been in an action flick or two."

"No, nothing like that," Saul replied as he took his first slurp of his cocktail, missing the obvious signs.

"Fair enough, fair enough. Let me know when you want another." George dismissed himself to tend to the other customers.

The evening wore on into night, and one mojito became two, then three, then five. Saul's lack of experience with alcohol began to show, as his bright blue eyes became a bit cloudy, his face loosened up, his nervousness melting away. George noticed the inebriation setting in and moved in for the kill.

"So, Saul, you got any plans for tonight?"

Saul finished off his last mojito and looked brightly at George and slurred out his response. "Naaah, I'm good. I'm fine. I'm good."

"Looks like you're a little tipsy there. Why don't I drive you over to my place and you can sleep it off?"

"S-Sure. Let's go."

George nearly cackled at how easy it was to pick this guy up. Saul waited in the bartender's car while George locked the place up for the night, and soon they were driving down San Vicente Boulevard to George's apartment. Sometime during the drive, Saul's liver had managed to process enough alcohol for his mind to clear up, and it was then he realized someone else was driving. Driving to a home that wasn't his own, but belonged instead to a well-groomed man who was making passes at him that only now he was comprehending.

In the back of Saul's mind, one single word was being repeated like a mantra:

Shit.

=

Saul's last transformation was a year and a half ago. It was after hours at the sports club, and Saul had snuck in to get a little extra lifting in; his clients at the time were novices at the concept of fitness and he missed the challenge of a good bench press. Desperate to make up for lost time, Saul threw himself into the routine, putting more and more weight on the barbells, curious to see how far he could go, forgetting that pushing himself too far would bring out the beast. Sure enough, as he struggled for that last rep at 380 pounds, he could feel the adrenaline surging through his body, waking up the dormant genetics that Project Wolfchild had infused him with. He barely made it outside before his body exploded in a storm of fur and rage, letting out a chilling howl that had nearby residents reaching for their phones to dial 911. Since that day, Saul vowed to himself never to be so careless again, knowing that he was in much too populated an area for a werewolf to throw everyone into a panic.

He had kept that promise for this long, taking great care not to put himself in any situation where the change might be inadvertently triggered. But now, even as George led him into the elevator that slowly took them both to the bartender's place, Saul tried convincing himself that he could still walk away from this encounter unscathed. He just needed to find the right moment to excuse himself.

When George opened his apartment door, Saul did his best to stand his ground, hestitating at in the doorway. He could see far enough to appreciate the floor plan; it wasn't luxurious by any stretch, but it matched Saul's apartment in the way it suited its purpose of housing a bachelor. He didn't want to ruin it all - his streak, or the apartment - and the apprehension was clearly visible on Saul's face.

But George would have none of it. "Come on, I'm not gonna hurt you."

Saul almost chuckled at the invitation. "I can't do this."

"Sure you can. You just put one foot in front of the other, how hard is that."

"No, you don't understand - "

"Oh, but I think I do." Impatiently, George grabbed Saul by the hand and pulled him sharply. For a moment, Saul's body weight provided enough resistance to stay outside, but he lost just enough balance that he stumbled through the doorway and officially inside the apartment. George quickly closed the door behind them. "There, now you're trapped in here. You can't escape now."

Saul knew George was being facetious; the door was unlocked, and there was no reason why he couldn't just turn the knob and step back out. But he knew exactly what the other man meant: if his willpower was really that strong, it never would have gotten this far. Saul cursed his weakness as George wrapped his arms around Saul's waist.

"You seem so uptight," George mused, his voice much quieter than in the bar, or even in the hallway of the apartment building. "I can't imagine what you're so afraid of." He nibbled on Saul's neck softly.

Saul's breathing hitched just a bit. It was already too late; all he could do now was hope that things wouldn't end too traumatically. He could already feel George's hands reaching for the collar of his shirt, unbuttoning it with a swiftness that he'd marvel at if the panic wasn't already setting in. His heart began to pound in strong thumps that even George could feel, and the shorter man pulled away for a moment.

"Geez, Saul, are you really that nervous? Maybe we should save this for another night."

For a second, Saul thought that he had misheard George's words. Considering all the time and effort spent in seducing this apprehensive young man, and finally succeeding in bringing him home, now he shows some concern? He should have felt relief, but the notion actually angered him. "You're worried about me now?"

"I just don't want you getting a heart attack," George replied. "I thought once we got started you'd simmer down and start enjoying things, but you're wound up tighter than a piano wire. Can you at least tell me why you're so nervous?"

"You wouldn't believe me."

"That's what I'm hoping. If you're getting all worked up over something stupid and mundane, I might as well throw you out right now."

Saul sighed. He could feel himself calming down, his heartbeat softening. "Sorry. I'm just... scared of what I might do to you if things get too carried away."

"Hey," George retorted, stroking Saul's cheek with his finger. "I've been around the block a few times. Don't worry about me."

George's hands returned to their original positions at the front of Saul's shirt, and one by one the buttons were separated until it was able to fall effortlessly off of the young man's body, with only a tank-top coming between Saul's chiseled torso and the open air. Saul made a conscious effort at keeping his breathing at a calm, steady pace, not getting too excited, even as he began to appreciate the simple, attractive features of the man undressing him, and he could feel his briefs tighten just a little as he began to grow erect.

Saul returned the favor, undoing George's shirt and revealing the older man's chest. Saul was pleased to find that the bartender was actually in decent shape; not massive like him but definitely not as skinny as he expected when they first made eye contact at the bar. Saul grabbed the bottom of his tank-top and pulled it up over his head, giving George the first glimpse of the perfect body he'd spent years maintaining... long before the experiment had even taken place.

George's once inviting expression was now mixed with an obvious shade of lust as he saw Saul's luxurious body for the first time.

"Damn, Saul, you could bounce a quarter off those abs." He draped his arms around Saul's back, pulling the two of them close, and as they leaned their foreheads together, George peered into Saul's azure eyes and spoke softly. "You're a beautiful man. Has anyone ever said that to you before?"

Saul shook his head.

"That's a shame," George replied. "I don't know what's made you build this wall around you, but I promise..." George dragged an index finger up the valley between Saul's pectorals, "...I'm breaking down the wall tonight." Before Saul could respond, George swiftly moved in for a kiss.

Fireworks exploded in Saul's head as he felt his lips press against the older man. His eyes closed reflexively as his hands wrapped around George's waist, pressing their bodies against each other as the kiss deepened. Saul's heart began to pound again, his groin getting unbearably tight.

When the kiss finally broke, George gasped as his own desire began to rise. "Are you ready for me?" he whispered.

Saul gave the man a crooked smile. "Only if you're ready for me."

Before either one of them knew it, they were in the older man's bedroom. Shoes and socks were heaped next to each other, pants strewn nearby. George was now laying on the bed, his boxers showing a visible tent in the front, while Saul's arousal was even more obvious, the front of his gray briefs poking up past the waistband. As Saul climbed on the bed next to George, he could feel it - the tingling in his veins that served as the final warning sign. Any further stimulation would set off the chain reaction in his body that he had feared for so long.

When George reached out with his hand to caress Saul's shoulder, that last straw broke.

Saul winced in shock as the latent mutation he had undergone four years ago began to manifest once again. He rolled off the bed, grunting in what looked like pain, but felt more like fire.

"Saul!" George shouted. "Are you OK?"

"Nnnnnrrrggg..." Saul groaned as body began to contort, looking back at George with eyes that had now taken on a golden hue, fangs already beginning to emerge from his teeth. "This is... what I was afraid of..."

George could only look in horror as the beautiful young man in his room transformed in front of his eyes. Dense thickets of lush brown fur grew across Saul's body, obscuring the muscular physique that somehow managed to gain even more mass and definition. Fingernails thickened, darkened, developed sharp points, while Saul's feet stretched outwards by a good six inches, toes acquiring similar claws. His mouth snapped open, revealing a cage of sharp fangs, as slowly, little by little, the bridge of the nose flattened, the face pulling out into a muzzle, the ears stretching into a conical shape. Saul could even feel his briefs distend even further, as his cock added enough length to make the front of the underwear protrude almost comically up and outward. He barely managed to stifle a howl as the beast within him fully awakened, but couldn't help letting out an angry snarl when the changes finally reached their endpoint.

The process only took about 30 seconds, but to Saul it felt like an eternity, and to George it felt even longer.

When it was over, George's face clearly betrayed his surprise and fear. "Holy shit. Saul, are you... are you still in there?"

The truth was, Saul had managed to learn enough control over his body in this state that, now that the transformation was completed, he didn't post much threat to George anymore. But he still hadn't fully mastered his wolf form yet, and speech was something he never bothered to practice. All he could do is stare silently at this almost-naked man laying on the bed in front of him, and hope the expression in his eyes conveyed his answer.

"Well..." George stammered, the once affable bartender now at a loss for words, "I guess I know what you were so nervous about. Shit... I didn't think you guys existed."

Saul looked away in shame. It's not like I wanted to be a monster, he thought.

"I don't think anyone ever does."

I just wish I could... wait a minute. Saul looked back at George with as puzzled an expression as his lupine face could produce. You heard that?

"Yeah... yeah, I can hear you. I don't know how - your mouth isn't moving - but I can hear you loud and clear, Saul."

Saul snorted. I guess telepathy was another one of those extra powers I got.

"Powers? What are you talking about? Are you some sort of superhero or something?"

Saul gave George a wolfish smile. Might as well tell you everything now.

Saul filled George in on all the details. About how his father was a brilliant geneticist who had pioneered the field of gene-splicing and human augmentation with animal DNA. How a terrorist organization had kidnapped his father, brutally murdered his mother and older brother, and planned to use Dr. Morrow's technology to take over the world with armies of mutant soldiers. How he unearthed Project Wolfchild, the secret experiment that turned him into the werewolf-like creature that allowed him to rescue his father, but cursed him with the beast in the process.

"So that's why you're name sounded so familiar," George said after all the explanations. "But I thought the military went in and got your dad out."

That was the story they gave to the press, Saul replied. They didn't want to cause mass hysteria about a werewolf taking down an entire terrorist cell.

"Fair enough, fair enough. But, where's your dad now?"

Teaching biochemistry in a university somewhere. After what had happened, he dismantled his lab, destroyed all his notes... and threw me out.

George's eyes widened in as much surprise as when Saul changed in front of him.

He said, everytime he looked at me, all he saw was the death and destruction he had a hand in causing. He couldn't bear to have me around. Didn't help when he found out I wasn't into the ladies much.

"Ooh, that's harsh. You've been by yourself ever since?"

Four years to the day.

"Huh. Well, happy anniversary, I guess." George was already growing comfortable with the monster sitting beside him on the bed. "So, how long are you going to be like this?"

A few hours, at least.

"Good, because I'd hate to see all this go to waste."

What... what are you talking about?

"I said I would break down your wall, didn't I?" George said with a mischievious tone of voice. "You've got four years worth of blue balls that you need to work off."

George... I don't want to hurt you.

"You won't. Hell, I'd be more worried about me hurting you."

Saul knew that George was being facetious - not that Saul could be hurt by much in his wolf form anyway - but it put him at ease enough to know that they'd both be OK. George reached his hand out again to stroke Saul's body, running his hands through the luxurious chocolate-brown fur that emanated from every pore of the werewolf's skin, as though it was his natural state. Saul began to murr softly, as the desire that had flagged during their conversation began once more to take hold.

Saul responded to George's touch by reaching out with his own hand, dragging his claws lightly against George's chest. He could smell George's arousal as the bartender's musky scent began to intensify. The touching between the two of them became more and more intimate with each passing moment, and soon they both were sporting erections inside their undergarments once again. George was the first to remove his boxer shorts, revealing the first penis Saul had ever seen apart from his own.

It was odd; Saul was expecting his animal instincts to ravage this older man in front of him, accidentally tearing his arms off his body in the process. But as the sight of George's naked body filled his vision, he couldn't help feel a sense of affection - a very human emotion - for him. As best he could, he smiled with his muzzle, resting a giant paw on George's shoulder.

I don't know why you're doing this... he projected, but thank you.

"Saul, when you first walked in the bar, you looked like someone who desperately needed a friend. I just hope I can be that and more." George slowly reached out and took the werewolf's trunks between his fingers, having to pull them up first to release Saul's oversized member before he could pull them down. It was still human in appearance - obviously his father wasn't that concerned with lupine anatomy - but it stood almost straight up, and boasted dimensions similar to a can of tennis balls. George's breath stumbled at the sight of it. "Well, tonight's going to be fun."

Together, they took their positions on the bed, side by side. Exploration was now fully underway, hands and paws and fingers and claws strolling over every square inch of each others' bodies. George finally took charge and wrapped his hand around Saul's cock as best he could, earning a long string of pre-cum in the process. With Saul's sense of touch as heightened as all the others, it was surprising that he didn't explode right then and there. Instead, he responded by rolling onto his back, hoisting George on top of him in the process.

George... I have to...

"It's OK, Saul. I'm ready."

George was now sitting just below Saul's abdomen, and began to slide backwards until he could feel Saul's length rubbing against his cleft. It teased Saul enough to make him whimper like a dog. Then, in one smooth motion, George leaned forward, tilting his rump up and lifting it towards the tip of Saul's penis. Instinct took hold from there, and Saul grabbed George's hips, thrusting as gently as his monstrous strength would allow him. The ring of muscle guarding George's entrance easily surrendered, and George took in a sharp breath though clenched teeth as the turgid member penetrated him for the first time.

George?

"I'm fine. It's just... a lot to take in. Give me a second and I'll be OK."

Saul was remarkably patient. He was still so worried that he might accidentally maim his partner that he was able to tamp down all the animal desires boiling within him. A minute later, when George finally looked like he had gotten accustomed to Saul's girth, the wolf began to slide more and more of his cock into the human. With each inch that entered George, Saul could feel the heat of the older man's innards wrapping around him. It took over a minute, but finally, he could feel George's rump come to rest around his groin.

"How does it feel?" George asked softly, running his hands up Saul's furry chest until they met his meaty pectorals.

Only one coherent word was able to pass through Saul's mind. Incredible.

"Just you wait."

Saul raised an eyebrow in bemusement, but he quickly had to squeeze his eyes shut and grit his teeth as George slowly started to lift up off of Saul's body, causing his cock to slide partially out of his partner. Not wanting to slip out, Saul reflexively thrust his hips, sending his length back into George. He didn't need any more persuasion after that - Saul's big hands gripped George by the hips as he began fucking the older man in earnest. The room was slowly filling with George's rhythmic gasps as Saul's measured growls. George's hands remained active, stroking Saul's chest, stomach, arms, whatever he could reach.

Once he regained the ability to think, Saul could only marvel at the situation. Hours ago, he was resigned to spending another night alone. But now here he was, not just fucking another guy, but someone who knew who he was and didn't mind at all. It was all so liberating that it nearly brought tears to the werewolf's eyes.

The love-making lasted well over 15 minutes. Every time it sounded like either one was getting close, the other would slow down and let them both relax. There was no way either of them wanted this to end before they were both ready. But with each round, it became harder and harder for Saul or George to resist the steep downhill slide to climax that beckoned to them both.

George smiled at his monstrous friend. "You ready for the homestretch?"

Saul smiled back. I thought you'd never ask.

The pace picked up again. George hunched over Saul's body, allowing his own penis to rub gently over the pelt of fur covering Saul's abs. The added sensation brought a tingle to his scrotum, and his balls began to draw inward. Saul began to feel a similar tension develop in his own organs, and thrusts became harder and quicker.

George began grunting with need. "Saul... Oh... Oh my God... I'm almost there..."

Saul's telepathy was going haywire. He couldn't tell his partner that he was on the precipice himself. But a few seconds later, it didn't matter - he could feel himself dashing past the point of no return. He grabbed George roughly and made one last jolting thrust, and four years of pent-up anguish and desire came rushing out in an ear-piercing howl and a series of spurts so powerful and voluminous that George felt them as an internal sandblast. George quickly followed his friend into climax with a half-dozen shots of his own, peppering Saul's chin, then chest, then stomach with his pearly seed. George soon collapsed onto Saul's lupine body, his arms no longer able to hold himself up, and both of them quickly succumbed to the torpor of sleep.

=

George was the first to awaken the following morning. After regaining his bearings for a minute, he saw the mess that the previous night's activities caused on full display on the bedsheets. He looked to his left, and there was Saul - the human Saul - snoozing peacefully beside him. He spent a few moments watching the younger man's stomach rise and fall with his breaths before caressing his side, coaxing Saul to wake up.

"Morning, Champ," George said jokingly.

"Unngh..." Saul groaned as he slowly propped himself up to a seated position. When he realized it wasn't his own bed he was waking up in, he quickly looked back at George. "Wait... did last night really happen?"

George nodded quietly.

"You mean..."

"All of it."

"Even...?"

George grinned. "That too."

Saul let out a large sigh. "Well, you're still here; that's a good sign."

"Hey, how often do you get to spend the night with a super-hunky werewolf like yourself?"

Saul laughed. "Glad I could oblige."

The two kissed, and it was the first time in Saul's life that he honestly felt relieved. Four years of having to live in fear of the beast within him, and it all evaporated in one night.

Still, Saul was quite new to this sort of thing. "So... what now? Are we boyfriends or something?"

George chuckled. "If you want. All I know is you shared something with me you've never shared with anyone else. You don't know what that means to me."

"You don't know how much it means to be able to share it with someone."

They kissed again, and this time, Saul could feel his groin tighten again with desire.

"Whaddaya say," Saul proposed. "Wanna go again?"

George's own penis began to stiffen in response. "How can I turn down my big bad wolf?"

It only took a few minutes for Project Wolfchild to manifest once again. But this time, it was an enjoyable sensation, not a painful one. The wolf that sprung out of Saul's body was placid, not savage. And Saul knew he could love his partner without fear of harming him. It was an odd turn of events, he thought.

Four years after saving the world, someone's finally saved me.