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Fourteen Garlic Knots

copyright comidacomida 2022

"Hey, Josiah! Wait up!"

Joe paused on his way out of the campus annex, recognizing the voice immediately. Not bothering to turn around, he steeled himself for the upcoming interaction but put forth the most neutral response he could come up with. "What's up, Reggie?"

Very few of Joe's friends called him by his full name and his ex had a specific tone which he always used. Although they had parted on 'decent' terms, Reggie had a habit of continuing to accentuate the 'we can still be friends' portion of their separation and often pushed the line; Joe had wanted to let him down easy, but his ex was immature, egotistical and, in many ways, selfish.

The continued demand for his time was just another one of those pieces of proof he really didn't need, and he assumed that the sports medicine major had some plan to take up even more of his time. He wasn't wrong. "Hey man... I thought, maybe, if you weren't doing anything tonight we could hang out? You know... maybe gym-up or something?"

Out of all of the idiosyncrasies Joe had come to dislike about his ex, the term 'gym-up' hadn't made the list, but it was close-- just after 'biting his nails'. The constant invitations (mostly just so Reggie could show off) never seemed to end. Fortunately, Joe had an actual valid, truthful excuse. "Can't tonight. Meeting a friend for dinner."

Reggie immediately deflated, but not for long. In his standard machismo approach, he pressed for more information than he had a right to demand. "Like... a friend... or a 'FRIEND'?"

Joe was not as physically fit as Reggie and, during the worst of their relationship his ex had pointed it out, telling him he could do with getting more physically fit and 'losing a few pounds... like... thirty or forty... maybe fifty'. While that was an over-exaggeration, Joe was not ashamed that he was MAYBE twenty pounds overweight-- he lived a sedentary lifestyle and he was happy with how he looked... and so was his new boyfriend. "Does it matter?"

Rather than answer the question, Reggie kept pushing. "Do I know him? Does he go to classes here?"

Trust Reggie to presume it was a 'him'; Joe already recognized his ex's about-to-react tone. Joe was, honestly, a little tired of it, so he handed out all the information that he knew Reggie would want to just get it over with. "You don't know him. No, he doesn't go to class here, and it's just dinner."

Reggie deflated for just a split second before rising back up and doubling down. "So he's not even a college student? Don't tell me you're dating a work study guy or... oh man... not a GEDer, is it?"

Pretty certain the term 'GEDer' wasn't even a proper word, Joe went for the kill. "He already graduated. He has a masters in business. He's in his 40s, works as an executive officer and his dick is bigger than yours."

Reggie's self-destruction was so spectacular that it was entirely silent-- like some grand space station exploding far out in the void where it didn't make a sound. Coming to a halt, Joe's ex just stood there, mouth working like a fish out of water, as if trying to come up with something to say. Before he could, Joe gave him a slap on the shoulder. "See ya Monday." and quickly made his exit. After all: he had a date.

Despite how possessive Reggie remained, Joe had only dated him for all of three months. Having never grown out of the 'high school jock' phase, Reggie was far too immature for him, and so they'd parted after what felt like a mildly warm relationship. In truth, Reggie had been far too pushy about almost everything and the few times they'd messed around (just hand stuff, and once mouth) it was at Reggie's insistence. The final time was when he managed to beg/threaten Joe for head, and when he found himself pushed down on it so far that he choked, Joe realized it was time to call it quits. Relationships required a certain degree of understanding, and Reggie just wasn't capable of it.

Jim, however-- just the thought of his new boyfriend sent a shiver up his spine. Reggie hadn't gone wrong with exerting a degree of insistent control, but it was a pale imitation of a mature man knowing how to earn obedience. Even after his time with Reggie Joe had still technically been a virgin, but after just over a month together Joe had no trouble whatsoever getting Joe to surrender it willingly and 'OH!', what an experience that had been; his dick was getting hard just thinking about it... and the numerous times thereafter... and the fact that he was meeting his salt-and-pepper daddy for dinner.

James, or Jim, as he insisted Joe call him, was in his mid forties but obviously worked out-- and not in the annoying way Reggie did. There was a certain elegant confidence to the man that did nothing to dampen the pure masculinity he exuded. Jim commanded any room he was in, which made sense considering he was some kind of corporate big-wig or something-- Joe wasn't entirely sure, but he was usually so busy that he was out of town every few weeks. One of the reasons Joe was so excited to see his mature boyfriend for dinner was that his sexy, middle-aged 'daddy' had apparently cancelled his trip that month just for Joe's benefit.

They'd dated for longer than he and Reggie had made it; dinner, in fact, was to celebrate their six month anniversary and the longest relationship Joe had ever had. There was something about Jim that commanded his presence, obedience and devotion... and it was all good. They had met during an internship Joe had at a competing company as part of his Economics work study and, the moment their eyes locked, Joe knew he had to know more.

Scoring a business card, he treasured it like gold for the remaining two weeks of his internship until he was released from any 'conflict of interest' issues and he called that night; his heart skipped a beat when Jim acknowledged he knew exactly who was calling and remembered him specifically. Their first dinner almost felt like a business meeting, but that was mostly due to Joe's awkwardness-- normally pretty self-assured, there was just something about Jim that made him week in the knees. Their second date went far better, and when Jim gave him a kiss goodnight, Joe was irreparably hooked.

Thoughts of his hot dad boyfriend continued to 'baste' his brain with images of everything they'd do after dinner as he settled into his car. Putting the key into the ignition, he didn't start it up, preferring to text Jim instead: HI DAD WHERE WE MEETING?

The whole 'dad' thing had started as a joke; James' parents had divorced in his early teens and his mom's ideas of boyfriends hadn't really measured up in the boy's eyes. Jim, on the other hand, was everything he thought an older male rolemodel should be. That and, he reminded himself, cheeks reddening immediately, 'daddy' was so god damn hot to yell while he was being railed by the dominant, god-like executive.

He was pulled from his dirty thoughts by the notification of a return text: WAFFLE HOUSE OFF OF SIXTH.

There was something endearing about how Jim was always so proper; even in texts he used punctuation. Joe finished with one more text before putting his phone down: OMW C U SOON

One more chime from his phone grabbed his attention and he checked his boyfriend's response: a simple emoji puppy. The message made him blush... hard. Jim had taken to calling Joe 'puppy' for a reason that would only make sense to someone who knew their deeply personal life: according to Jim, Joe whined like a little puppy when they were in the throes of passion. That, and he REALLY liked doggy style. The young man felt his pants becoming even more uncomfortable; he could hardly wait to get to dinner, but not for the food... he was all in it for the dessert to follow.

* * * * *

Joe knew something was up about dinner since Jim did not usually choose a 'diner' style restaurant. Pulling up at the Waffle House, the young man locked the door to his car and approached, surprised at just how empty it was. Like most Waffle Houses, the one off of 6th street had a large number of windows which, in most circumstances, showed a large number of happy (or at least semi-content) diners eating their choice of breakfast, lunch or dinner at just about any hour yet, surprisingly, there was nobody... except Jim.

The well-dressed, carefully groomed businessman still had his suit on from the work day and Joe was happy to take in the sight while stepping in through the door. Jim's salt-and-pepper hair was cut short, just long enough not to be mistaken for some kind of military style and his beard was trimmed neatly, presenting an impeccable attention to his appearance and as carefully manicured as every other part of him. The man's steel grey eyes peered righ at him, lips parting into a confident smile, all but crying 'About time you showed up' without it actually being accusatory.

When he finally did speak, Jim's rumbling, rich bass sent a shiver up Joe's spine. "Glad you made it, pup."

Unable to keep from smiling in the presence of his exquisite boyfriend, Joe felt a little light headed and giddy about getting an extra date night with Jim. "Me too... I don't think we've been to a Waffle House before."

Jim offered a wink. "I DID tell you tonight would be a surprise, didn't I?"

There was something about the statement that felt as though there was more to it than that, but Joe was still focused on how empty the place was. "Kinda quiet for being a Friday night... I figured a place like this would--"

His boyfriend tented his fingers, resting his chin on them. "I own it... so I had it closed for a private function."

Joe had absolutely no doubt in his mind that Jim was loaded, but he never figured that his boyfriend's 'portfolio' was so 'diverse' as to include 'casual dining establishments'. He realized right then and there that he was indeed caught off guard because he didn't usually fall back on business terms in casual thought. Still, he managed to hide the worst of it with a casual smile. "And the surprises keep coming."

Jim winked yet again. "Oh... the surprises haven't even started cumming yet, pup."

Something about the statement sounded almost flirty, but Joe didn't mind in the least. Reaching out a hand, he rested it on Jim's arm. "Well... as long as I'm with you, any restaurant is a Giovanni's."

Giovanni's was their 'official' restaurant. While not the MOST expensive in town, it was fairly high priced and Joe would never have managed to eat there as often as he did on what little money he had as a student, but Jim always treated. Italian seemed to be his boyfriend's favorite cuisine as well, which further confused the young man, as they almost always went somewhere that had what Jim referred to as 'real' pasta. Joe was quite certain that a Waffle House was not such a place. He was proven wrong.

As the two sat in the booth making small talk, the kitchen had obviously not been idle. Before Joe knew it a collection of waiters dressed in a manner OTHER than what one might expect at a Waffle House emerged with trays which definitely didn't belong there. Several platters were set down on the table before them and, as the last of the waiters deposited their meals, Jim reached up and stuck a $50 in the man's pocket. The waiter tipped his head. "Grazie signore."

Jim responded with a smile, speaking sidelong to the man while looking at Joe the entire time. "Pensare nulla di esso, Lorenzo."

That was a bit of a surprise. "You... speak Italian?"

The older man flashed Jim yet another smile. "Heritage, pup... I have a lot of it flowing through my veins."

Looking down at the kind of spread more in line with a high end restaurant than a Waffle House, Joe didn't know where to begin-- in eating, or in speaking. In the end, he asked what was on his mind. "So... um... you're Italian?"

Jim chuckled, his deep voice almost making the table quake with his mirth. "American, pup... born and bread. My great grandparents came from 'the old country'. Why? What about you? Hmm?"

Joe offered a shrug in response. "Irish, I think? I mean... I never really asked and my folks don't talk about it-- but I think my mom's side is eastern European."

His boyfriend's smile had a slight edge to it-- an expression that had taken Joe some time to learn: Jim had some playful moments. "I'm positive you have some Italian in you."

Joe shook his head. "I... don't THINK so..."

Jim winked. "Before tonight's over you will."

The young man demeaned himself with a girlish giggle followed by a hapless snort; such dad humor. Feeling his face flush, not just from the embarrassment, but also from the implication, Joe focused on the varieties of pastas in front of him. There was waaaaaaay more there than the two of them could eat. "So... any reason why you chose to meet up at a Waffle House?"

Jim set his own fork down, returning his hands to their previously-tented position in front of himself. Setting his chin onto his joined fingers again, the older man gazed across the table. "I wanted you to meet my family."

Joe dropped his fork, coughing. He had never before felt what it was like to have orzo in his nostril, but after a rapid intake of breath due to that bit of information was sufficient enough to grant him that entirely new experience. Although he hadn't fully regained his composure, he managed to ask his question. "Your... family?

Reaching out his hand to take hold of one of Joe's, Jim nodded. "I hope to have you join it, puppy."

Not entirely sure of how he should respond, a thousand thoughts ran through his mind: was Jim a member of the mafia? Deciding he had to escape the rabbit hole in his head Joe fell back to his tried and true sense of irreverence. Hating himself even as he said it, the young man spoke anyway. "Shouldn't we have eaten at an Olive Garden then? Cuz when you're here you're fa--"

He was interrupted by a firm smack on the back of his head by what felt like a padded glove. "Hey. Show a little more respect, for the place, man."

A combination of shame, indignation, surprise, alarm and confusion washed over Joe. Not only was he not used to being accosted by a stranger, but the tone was downright insulting and demeaning. Turning to regard his 'assailant', the young man immediately stood up for himself, both literally and figuratively. "Excuse me but--" and stopped immediately when he saw what he faced. "HOLY FUCK!"

The aisle between the booths and the back of the stools placed at the breakfast bar was wide enough to accommodate at least two people, but it was taken up in its entirety by Joe's aggressor. What faced him was NOT Human... not by a long shot. Standing well over seven foot tall, and at least half that wide was some kind of monster-- it stood on two legs like a Human, but its back was hunched forward and it was covered in thick, reddish fur. In as much a way as it resembled a man it also resembled a wolf-- a bipedal one, with long arms ending in clawed digits. It also had a muzzle. A big muzzle. With lots of teeth-- one of them was a snaggle tooth, projecting from the bottom left of the thing's muzzle; it would have looked goofy if not for the fact that the creature was so imposing.

It stared right at him with eyes so green they almost looked as though they glowed. Opening its muzzle, the creature clearly spoke. "Boo."

Falling back into the booth, Joe very nearly peed his pants at the mere sight of the enormous creature, but having it address him was too much, and he cried out in surprise. Jim, on the other hand, kept his unshakable confidence and his demeanor remained unaffected except, if anything, he seemed to grow gruff and assertive. "Ronnie, sit the fuck down and don't be such a shit head."

Joe wasn't sure whether he was more surprised at Jim treating the creature like one of his interns at work or that the beast actually LISTENED. In the end, what definitely took the gold in the young man's eyes was when the cowed creature, tail and ears tucked sat down next to Jim and responded with a despondent "Sorry, Dad."

Joe almost wheezed out the question. "Did he say.... Dad?"

Jim reached up and rubbed the wolf-creature on the back of the neck. "Ronnie here's my youngest... graduating high school next semester, aren't you?"

Staring transfixed at the enormous red Wolf, Joe couldn't believe what he was seeing; the creature, apparently 'Ronnie' by name had his muzzle facing toward the ceiling, head turned at an angle as Jim scratched his neck; the table quaked rhythmically and Joe realized that the Wolf's leg was kicking. Even as he responded to the scratches, Ronnie responded. "Yessir."

Jim nodded. "Good boy... and all As?"

The leg stopped kicking. "B in American Lit."

Glancing across the table to Joe, Jim simply shrugged and offered a half-hearted smile before giving the monster a slap on the back. "Always room for improvement, Ron... just make use of it when you get the chance, right?"

The Wolf went back to nodding, and Joe heard a rythmic thumping; he realized it was a tail. "Yeah, Dad."

Joe would have had SOOOO many other questions to ask but, at that point, the chime from the door heralded in new arrivals. Unwilling and unable to look away from the enormous red furred creature in front of him, the young man let that go unobserved. A gravely voice from behind him called "Hey Dad... started without us, huh?"

Jim gestured to the table. "Just dinner, Boys."

Not knowing exactly what that meant, Joe DID catch a glimpse of something behind him via the reflection off of the metal napkin dispenser. Did he just see a timber wolf walking on two legs? Finally willing to break eye contact with Ronnie, Joe turned around in the booth just in time to see two more huge beasts take a seat in the one directly behind him. The one sharing the opposite side of the booth with him held out an enormous paw. "Hey there... you must be Josiah."

Jim casually interjected. "He goes by Joe. Joe, these are my other boys Cody and Koby... second oldest of the pack. Twins. Cody works at the company with his old man while Koby is dabbling in venture capital markets."

So stunned that he hardly registered when the wolf creature closest to him managed to wedge his paw beneath Joe's hand to shake it, the young man just stared. The second of the two who had just sat down looked identical to the one closest to him, and responded to Joe's stare with an inclination of his muzzle and a simple "Sup?".

The one shaking his hand slowly withdrew his paw. "I'm Cody. That's Koby... I like your scent, by the way."

Ronnie loomed over him but, as it turned out, it was just to pass a large platter of pasta past him to Cody, who accepted it with a nod. A single word escaped the confused and stunned young man, asking for clarification regarding an earlier statement while watching the two enormous monsters begin divvying up the pasta between themselves in a surprisingly civil manner. " Did you say... pack, Jim?"

Behind him, Jim chuckled. "Pack... Family... it's all the same really. You doing okay, over there, Pup?"

Numbed in fright and confusion, Joe slowly turned around so he could focus on the one consistent, stable thing that made sense in the entire restaurant: if nothing else he could count on his boyfriend to be a steadying influence. What he saw instead changed everything as he watched Jim handing his carefully folded shirt and sports coat over to Ronnie; the businessman had already taken off his slacks and, as usual, he wore nothing beneath them. While in any normal circumstance Joe would have been happy to see his boyfriend's naked body, he was not experiencing normal circumstances.

Before Joe's eyes Jim grew two foot in height... at LEAST. As he did so, Jim bulked out, so much so that Ronnie was forced to stand up, Jim's fine clothes draped over an arm. The hair on Jim's head began to spread, growing like some kind of time lapse video as it sprouted down the rest of him. Black fur quickly covered flesh, interspersed with faint streaks of white as his entire body was all but consumed by it. Jim rotated slightly, the thick, meaty slab of meat between his legs growing even larger and broader as it folded in upon itself and sprouted fur until it had been replaced by something that looked more fitting between the legs of a feral animal.

To finish the effect, a long, bushy tail sprouted from atop the cleft of his finely shaped ass. Joe wondered at his mental description: could werewolves have finely shaped asses? He acknowledged to himself that they indeed could, moments before he passed out.

* * * * *

Joe would have been happy with even a few minutes of deluding himself into thinking he had experienced a dream but any sense he might have had about it was dispelled the moment he came-to; he jumped up immediately at a burning sensation in his nostrils and found himself sitting on the Waffle House breakfast bar with numerous lupine heads staring down at him. A light brown, almost cream-colored one drew its paw back, a broken capsule of smelling salts quickly discarded. From somewhere behind himself, Joe heard Jim's voice, but it was somehow even deeper, with a rich rumble to it. "You okay, Pup?"

The cream colored wolf man dusted his paws off against one another, hunching over to look at Joe with amber eyes. "He'll be alright, Dad... he just fainted is all. Yeager, get him some water."

A dark gray-pelted wolf man disappeared into the kitchen while Joe fought to make sense of things. "What-- what's going on?"

The cream-colored one offered what may have been a smile. "You fainted, Joe. Don't move too quickly and take a moment to breathe; it's perfectly normal to experience some vertigo while you're recovering."

Joe almost jumped when he felt a heavy paw land on his shoulder. He almost screamed but what stopped him was the gentle one-two squeeze; it was EXACTLY the way Jim did it. "This is Marco... started back in April at an emergency room. Gonna be one hell of a doctor, aren't you, Marco?"

The doctor-wolf(?) rolled his eyes. "DNP, Dad, not doctor."

Even as Jim and Marco got into what felt like Joe to be a senseless argument over semantics, the young man felt his tentative hold on reality (and possibly sanity) start to slip away from him. He was shocked back to attention when a cold glass made its way into his hand; the wolf with the dark gray pelt made sure to wrap Joe's fingers around it so the young man wouldn't drop it. With a blink of his mahogany-brown eyes, the wolf stated "Here. It's water. Relax. We're not here to eat you."

A brown Wolf with fur so rich it almost looked like it belonged on a hair model flicked his tail, leaning against one of the nearby booths. "I don't know, Yeager... he looks like the type who might enjoy a little muzzle-attention."

A black wolf almost as big as Jim tossed a balled up napkin at the brown one. "Cut it out, Chris... he's already freaked out enough as it is."

The brown one, 'Chris', apparently, offered a mocking salute. "Yes sir, Officer, sir."

Jim interjected immediately. "Christopher, leave Joe alone and don't disrespect Abe. He'll be up for Lieutenant soon."

Chris sighed. "Sorry, Daddy... I know."

A pang of jealous inexplicably sprang to life in Joe, providing him a moment of (insane?) clarity. Was someone else calling his boyfriend 'daddy'? "What's... going on here exactly?"

The salt-and-pepper Wolf that was Jim quickly carved a path through the other wolf men surrounding Joe. Steel-gray eyes peered down at him: a perfect copy of Jim's human ones, only set into a furred, bestial face. "Like I said, pup... you're here to meet the family." Gesturing around at the dozen-or-so creatures around him, Jim continued. "These are my boys."

Whether continued indignation or outright defiance, Joe managed to push through. "So... they're... like me?"

The brown one, Chris, spoke up again. "Oh, no, piggy... NONE of us are like you."

Abe, the black furred one near Chris smacked him on the back of his head in response. Cody (or maybe Koby-- Joe couldn't tell the difference) snickered at the disciplinary action. Jim, in the meantime, continued. "These boys are all mine... I adopted em over the years... run aways, strays, or cast-offs... but I love each and every one of them... even the ones who get a B in American Lit." Jim smiled, reaching over to ruffle Ronnie's head fur.

It was like some strange, eerie, otherworldly snapshot of Americana: a dad gathering up all of his sons for a family night... only they were all-- suddenly everything came together to fill out the big picture: Jim was always gone every fourth week... every full moon. Even though he'd already come to the conclusion when he'd seen his boyfriend change before his eyes, he'd not yet given voice to his understanding. "You're... werewolves!"

Jim chuckled, reaching out to pat Joe on the shoulder; for some inexplicable reason, the young man didn't feel like he had to shirk away. Smiling, the large black-and-gray wolf nodded. "Yep... me, and each of my boys. Found everyone last one of them off on their own, needing a dad. I gave them a family-- a pack, here with me. Taught em how to be wolves. You, Joe, are going to be the first member of the family who isn't one."

Ronnie grinned wide. "One of us! One of of us! One of--ow!" The red-furred werewolf went silent when Yeager smacked him on the shoulder.

Marco remained near Joe, asserting "Only if he checks out... I'm not sure that's such a good idea for tonight seeing as fainted earlier."

Joe realized he was missing something. "What isn't such a good idea?"

A white furred werewolf answered with a cryptic reply. "The ritual."

"What ritual?"

Chris pressed the issue, addressing the white wolf. "Yeah, TOM... What ritual?"

Rather than let the white-furred werewolf answer, Jim leaned forward with a wide grin on his fuzzy muzzle as he murmured to Joe. "Read the room, Puppy."

It took a few seconds for Joe to realize what his boyfriend meant but, once he spent the time to actually pay attention, he realized that every single one of the werewolves was naked... and a hint of pink was peeking out of the fuzzy sleeve between Jim's legs. Did it mean what he thought it meant?

Author's Note: It did.