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Matthew still didn't know why he'd done it.

It was a deathclaw, for crying out loud - not some poor, helpless creature just trying to survive in the Wastelands. The beasts were known for being incredibly dangerous and tough to kill, often taking out dozens of men before they themselves could be put down. He should never even have approached, let alone tried to help, but...

Seeing the raiders make a sport out of hunting down the deathclaw had been too much for him.

It didn't help that this particular one was weaker, less able to defend itself than the others. It seemed frail, somehow - perhaps exposed to a virus or to radiation. It helped even less that it had a hand held over its eyes as they bled, swiping helplessly at the laughing men. A rage had come over Matthew, then.

Of course, Matthew could hardly fight off a dozen raiders on his own. He'd shouted at them to stop, and all he'd gained was a thorough beating as the thugs switched their attention to him. They'd gotten bored, thankfully, but...

It still meant he was broken and bleeding on the ground.

The human was barely aware of it when a large snout sniffed curiously at his body. Thick, clawed fingers carefully rolled him into his back before picking the fragile human body up - but by that time, Matthew was already unconscious.

Considering the extent of his injuries, that was probably for the best.

The deathclaw held the human in his arms, carefully weighing his options. He couldn't provide significant medical aid on his own, he knew that much - nor could he get the help of his brethren. He had already been ostracized once for its intelligence, and attempting to get help for a human would only get them both killed.

He could leave Matthew within range of a human settlement - but that was a risky option at best. If the settlers saw him, they'd consider Matthew suspicious, and a risk to the town. He'd seen it often enough. If they didn't see him... well, there was no guarantee he'd even get the help he needed.

Which meant he'd have to improvise. The deathclaw blinked a few times, rapidly - but his vision was still blurry and streaked with his own blood. A low growl escaped from deep within his throat. If only he hadn't encountered those damn raiders...

He sighed. Carrying the human gingerly in his arms, he began the trek back home.

---

Most deathclaws didn't need to worry about healing or medicine; the fact of the matter was that being a predator of such feared reputation meant they either came out of a battle with victory in their claws, or not at all. What use was there for medicine when the world was survival of the fittest?

This particular deathclaw, of course, was different. From the very beginning, his more fragile nature meant it was far easier for him to get hurt - and he didn't heal quite as fast as the others he was born with. Any injuries he acquired, he had to deal with on his own.

Lucky for him, however, whatever mutation had given him his fragility had also blessed him with an intelligence far greater than that of the average deathclaw - arguably even greater than that of the average human. An inability to speak didn't take away from his ability to learn, and though he was certainly restricted by the lack of acceptance from all forms of society, he was still able to observe.

He saw humans grind plants up into paste and apply them to their wounds. He hadn't been close enough to identify the plant itself, but it hadn't been difficult to test them on his own wounds, when he got them. Wrap leaves around his cuts as an improvised bandage - ignore the pain, since it had seemed to hurt for the humans too. If a wound seemed to heal better or faster, he'd remember what kind of plant he had used.

It wasn't the most ideal system. If not for his own regenerative abilities, limited though they were, he likely would have more than just the few permanent wounds he did. The fact of the matter, however, was that his diligence in figuring out what worked and what didn't had saved his life more than once. The other deathclaws might have shunned him for it, but he could hardly deny the results.

With Matthew, the deathclaw couldn't be sure that the medical techniques he had learnt would help - but it was all he had. He couldn't risk testing new plants on the human; he likely didn't have the regenerative abilities of a deathclaw, for one thing. He'd just have to hope that the plants that worked for him would also work for the human.

Thankfully, it did - at least enough for Matthew to wake up.

"Ergh..." The human flinched slightly as he shifted on the bed of leaves that the deathclaw had set up for him. "What..."

He froze.

There was a deathclaw staring down at him. Its eyes were scarred, yes, and it didn't seem angry so much as simply mildly curious about him - but one didn't manage to survive in the wastelands without reacting quickly to things like a deathclaw appearing in front of you.

Of course, it was a little less than a good decision on Matthew's part - his mad attempt to scramble backwards only resulted in a scream of pain as his wounds yelled at him to stop. It was like a burning fire across his body; he gasped out as he faltered and crashed back onto the bed, and the deathclaw let out a worried sort of rumble as it nudged into the human with its snout.

"Get... get away from me!" Matthew was still a little delirious from the pain, slapping away at the monster's about with a hand as though he was actually expecting it to so do something. The deathclaw gave an irritated, insistent sort of growl, a long tongue flickering out of its mouth. "Please, I didn't do anything to you, I..."

He paused as the memories began to filter back into his weakened mind.

"...I helped you, didn't I?" Matthew said slowly. His memories were still a little unfocused, and it was difficult to remember exactly what had happened - but he'd stepped in where he shouldn't have, it seemed. The deathclaw gave him an agreeing sort of growl, pressing its snout into his hand. "Heh. It's almost like you understand me. Did you take me here, boy? I guess you didn't know where else to take me... then again, you would probably have been shot on sight anywhere you tried to go, so maybe that's for the best."

Matthew frowned for a moment, thinking. He wasn't in any state to move - and even if by some miracle he was able to direct the deathclaw to take him to a nearby settlement, most people employed a shoot first, ask questions later policy when it came to creatures like the deathclaw.

Which meant that he was stuck, at least for the moment. Matthew sighed, shifting uncomfortably before realising for the first time that he was actually resting on a makeshift bed. Not a very good one - there were some sharp branches and twigs in it - but a makeshift bed, nonetheless. "Oh, wow..." he spoke softly. He glanced up at the deathclaw. It was observing him silently, surprisingly quiet for one of its kind, almost as if it was... evaluating him? "You're... a little more intelligent than you look, aren't you?"

The deathclaw looked at him for a moment, as though considering its answer - and then it nodded, its head bobbing up and down rather awkwardly. Deathclaws weren't really made for that sort of thing. It gestured with a large claw over at the paste it had smeared messily over the human's wounds. Matthew glanced down and flinched for a moment before realising that the mess of yellow was not, in fact, pus oozing from an infected wound.

"O-oh. Did... did you do this?" Matthew sniffed experimentally at the paste, shuddering a little as he did so. It had a strong, bitter sort of scent to it - certainly it wasn't anything that he recognised. On the other hand, he could still move his fingers and the gash on his hand wasn't burning, so presumably it was doing something right.

The deathclaw nodded in a way that was almost... shy, not that Matthew was an expert in deathclaw body language. The man let out a short, disbelieving laugh, shaking his head. "God help me, I nearly died protecting a deathclaw and now I think I'm actually having a conversation with one. Any way you could tell me how long I've been out?"

The deathclaw just shrugged. It didn't measure time the same way humans did, it was sure, and Matthew had only been out for about as long as it took him to gather the necessary herbs. The human stared at him for a moment, then sighed.

"Well, I guess I'm stuck here for now, eh?" Matthew offered the deathclaw a weak smile. There were worse things that could have happened to someone that offended the raiders. He shook his head and took a breath, suddenly feeling a little dizzy. It had been one hell of a day.

"I think... I need to pass out... for now." Matthew's voice was quieter, a little drowsy. He looked up at the deathclaw that was staring at him with concern. "Heh, don't worry, boy. Just... need to rest... do you have a name, by any chance?"

The deathclaw looked a little incredulous, Matthew thought. He laughed, arm flopping about uselessly in the air as he tried and failed to gesture. "Well... I'll call you Vincent. Vincent the deathclaw. Heh..."

His hand slowly slipped back to the ground as he dozed off, and Vincent - as he was now apparently named - wondered if perhaps the herbs he'd chosen had some rather unfortunate side effects on humans.

Ah well. At least the smell was pleasant.

---

Matthew woke again.

Vincent wasn't anywhere nearby, this time, though the human thought it rather silly that he'd imposed the name on the deathclaw in his more... delirious moments. It had stuck in his mind, though, and was far better than referring to him as 'deathclaw' and 'it'. He'd correct himself if Vincent protested it, but for now...

He tried to move gingerly. It didn't hurt nearly as much as it did before, which was strange - whatever herbs the deathclaw had used must have been incredibly effective for it to work this well. The other possibility, of course, was that the flesh was simply dead and he could no longer feel sensation from it.

Matthew reached out and carefully wiped some of the paste away from the wound on his arm - and proceeded to yelp and hold his hand away as though it was diseased. "Gah!"

Where the paste had been applied, his skin was no longer the healthy tan it had been before. Instead, it was the darker hue of dirt and soil. The texture certainly wasn't any better; the skin around the cut had begun to split and crack as though inexplicably dry. Not quite necrosis - it looked far too alive, strangely enough - but very, very wrong nonetheless.

A curious sort of growl, and Matthew looked up with a startled glance to see that Vincent had returned. The human winced slightly. "Ah. Hey, buddy. I don't think your medicine's quite working the way it should..."

Vincent's large claws grabbed a hold of Matthew's hand in a surprisingly gentle grip - a concerned one, even. A single digit wiped at the paste to expose even more half-formed scale, and the deathclaw let out a distressed sort of growl as he saw it.

"No idea what caused it, eh?" Matthew managed a weak sort of smile, giving the deathclaw a pat on the back of one of its humongous hands. "It's alright, bud. I don't blame ya. I'm a little worried, but... it can't be anything bad, right?"

Which was nonsense, of course. In a world where radiation had created mutation upon mutation, deviations like these were exactly the sort of thing to be worried about - but what could they do? Matthew was still in hardly any condition to travel on his own. Traveling with a deathclaw was a death sentence in itself - and Matthew didn't have the medical knowledge he needed to treat his own wounds. They could stop, and hope that his body would heal on his own, but...

Matthew was still weak. Given the choice between an option that seemed to be working, albeit with strange side effects, and an option that was to do nothing and hope for the best - well, he rather thought that he had a better chance with the first.

"Got any more of that paste, bud?" Matthew asked - and Vincent held up a bundle of rather strange looking flowers almost sheepishly. "Alright, come on, let's get it on."

Vincent seemed almost reluctant, concerned. He held back a little, but Matthew insisted, putting on a brave smile.

And, well... who could say no to that?

---

It had been at least three days, by Matthew's count. He didn't have a very good way of keeping track of time, not from within the depths of the deathclaw's cave, but Vincent usually left to gather more herbs in the evenings. That was what he'd gathered from numerous charades with the deathclaw, anyway.

On the plus side, he was getting a lot better at understanding exactly what it was that Vincent was trying to say. Matthew was beginning to notice things he hadn't seen before - a subtle change in the deathclaw's scent when he was distressed, or a twitch of the claw that signified hunger. Deathclaws communicated more by body language than by voice, it seemed - or at least, Vincent did.

The strange effect of the paste had begun to spread - but strangely enough, the further the transformation had spread, the less Matthew worried about it. It would have been concerning, certainly, if he'd lost sensation in his fingers as the dark stain spread through his skin. That wasn't what happened; as his nails turned a strange shade of chitinous black and his fingers began to thicken, he found his arms responding faster to his commands.

It was almost as though he was being improved - as though whatever this mutation was, it was beneficial. Matthew certainly wasn't complaining. His arm felt better than ever. He could have left, in fact, searched for proper medical aid. Vincent had certainly tried to convince him to do so, but Matthew had been curiously stubborn about staying. Part of him felt he owed it to the deathclaw. The other part was... curious, perhaps, about where his transformation was going.

Though he certainly didn't admit that to Vincent. The deathclaw would have practically thrown him out, if only out of concern. Matthew snorted, a small smile playing across his face.

The scraping of claws across stone signified Vincent's return, and Matthew looked up with a glint of excitement in his eyes. "Got a little more of that paste, yeah?"

Vincent gave him a look. Matthew knew the deathclaw well enough by now to understand what it meant; there was a faint spark of disbelief, some worry, some amusement. I'm starting to think I should be concerned about your obsession with this.

"I just want to get better faster, you know that," Matthew argued, waving a clawed hand dismissively. The nails on the hand had grown, resembling talons more than they did human nails. Somehow, Vincent was more bothered by it than Matthew.

Vincent folded his arms across his chest. We both know you're already better.

"...I also wanted an excuse to spend more time with you?" Matthew's voice was sheepish. Curiosity about his transformation aside, that much, at least, was true. Vincent couldn't help the slight change in his scent that Matthew registered as a blush, and he chuckled softly. "Hey, you're more company than I've had in years, and better than most the folk I meet in the wastelands. Gotta give you credit for that."

Vincent shrugged, plopping himself down on the stone of the cave. He began to grind the flowers he'd gathered down into dust, mixing it with water to form a strange, thick paste. You're not so bad yourself.

The smell of the paste wafted through the air. To Matthew's more sensitive nostrils, the scent was far more defined than it had been before - there was the sweetness of nectar, the sharpness of blood, a faintly bitter aftertaste that seemed distinctly deathclaw in its nature. He shivered, not entirely knowing why, and without his notice the scales on his skin spread a little further up his transformed arm.

"Paste smell a bit strange to you, Vince?" Matthew sniffed again at the air, shuddering again. He wasn't sure what it was that made him want to keep doing it; there was an odd sort of compulsion that seemed to push him into taking another breath, then another. Vincent paused for a moment, and when he responded, it was through an embarrassed series of gestures.

That is... not the paste. The deathclaw looked away, a foot scuffing slightly against the ground.

"What is it, then?" Matthew seemed intrigued. "It smells kinda nice..."

Vincent, if it was possible, shrunk even further into himself. Every so often, deathclaws will go through... heat. I do not typically have company, so it tends not to be a problem, but...

"Oh." The human wasn't entirely sure how to react at first. Matthew seemed a little embarrassed for having pushed the matter, if anything - but there was a part of him that had had its curiosity piqued. "You have... mating cycles?"

The deathclaw gave him a faint look of annoyance, shifting uncomfortably in place. Obviously.

Matthew... wasn't entirely sure what possessed him. It was a combination of that exotic spice in the air, perhaps, or the clearly embarrassed deathclaw that seemed far too shy. Matthew had expected to see many things in the wastelands, but a shy deathclaw was not one of those things. It stirred an instinct deep within him. Whether that instinct was a part of him or if it had been instilled by his spreading transformation was debatable, but the end result was the same.

The human slowly slipped out of bed to approach his friend.

Vincent seemed startled by the act, abruptly covering himself up with the flowers he'd gathered - something he'd never bothered doing before, simply because there had never been anything to see. What are you doing?

"Well, you don't exactly have a good source of relief..." Matthew said slowly. The idea hadn't quite filtered through to his mind, yet - but the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. He owed the deathclaw something, didn't he? And there wasn't any harm in doing his friend a favor.

Vincent, on the other hand, seemed reluctant. It might have been an amusing sight to any other outsider - a human with a half-transformed arm slowly approaching a large, hulking deathclaw, and said deathclaw scrambling away into the wall as he was approached. Ah, not that I don't appreciate the offer, but...

"But?" Matthew rose a brow. He chuckled softly, brushing the claws on his hand gently across the deathclaw's chest. "If you're worried about the medicine affecting me, I assure you I'm of sound mind."

Vincent made a half-hearted, protesting sound - but it was half-hearted at best. He _was_in heat, no matter how much he tried to deny it. His body called for him to mate, and it didn't care if the person he mated with happened to be male or female. It needed a release. Deathclaw reproduction was normally a little more complex, involving pheromones and mating displays. Vincent...

Well, his version of heat just made him horny.

_This doesn't seem like the best idea..._Vincent's protests were faint, his words conveyed in shaky half-movements without much sincerity behind them. As much as he tried to deny the human, tried to push him away - there was a big part of him that wanted this. With good reason, too; they might have only known each other for a while, but they'd bonded in their time together. Vincent had never had a companion like this, and from what he'd gathered, Matthew hadn't been particularly accepted out in the Wastelands either.

"Seems like a good idea to me." It should have occurred to Matthew, perhaps, that he was experiencing his own form of heat - but the thought never even crossed his mind, and even if it had, it was unlikely he would have acted any different. As the deathclaw's scent slowly invaded his mind, he noticed things about his friend he'd never seen before.

For a deathclaw, Vincent was frail - but to a human like Matthew, things were a little different. Vincent was strong, far stronger than Matthew could ever hope to be; the huge, hulking beast had muscles that humans didn't even begin to have, could tear through objects with an intimidating sort of ease. For the first time, these thoughts woke a primal sort of arousal deep within the human male, and Matthew growled low in response.

A-ah... Vincent's thoughts were more distinct to Matthew now, some way or another. He was noticing all sorts of minutiae he'd never seen before - tiny movements in the shoulders and arms, flickering changes of the deathclaw's scent. I don't know...

Matthew inhaled deeply. The deathclaw's smell struck a chord deep within him, and he felt his cock starting to strain against the pants he wore as he climbed atop the creature. "I don't think we have anything to lose," he laughed. "And you want this as much as I do."

Vincent looked longingly at the human that had crawled into his lap. He did, that much was true - not necessarily because Matthew was particularly attractive to him. He was just the only person that had accepted him, that had seen him for more than he seemed to be, and that meant something to the deathclaw.

Maybe... maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

What Vincent didn't realise was that Matthew had begun to emit a faint scent of his own.

The deathclaw shuddered slightly as he finally acquiesced, allowing the flowers to fall from his claws and onto the ground. Matthew grinned at the sight; the bundle of plants had been hiding a thick cock, with what seemed to be a strange, chitinous plating along the sides. He traced curious fingers along the hardened flesh, and Vincent jerked against him, precum spurting out and landing on the human's stomach.

T-those are sensitive. The deathclaw's breathing was a little heavier, and Matthew could swear that if Vincent was capable of blushing, he would have been.

"Are they?" Matthew seemed curious. Deft fingers slid along the plating, drawing patterns along it, and Vincent could only gasp as his claws dug into the ground. "They seem rather tough, to me..."

You are a tease. Vincent was gritting his teeth, a low rumble escaping from somewhere deep within his chest as a blob of precum slowly made its way to the tip of his cock. Matthew chuckled softly, scooping the deathclaw's pre up with a finger and bringing it to his mouth.

"Does that really bother you?" the human asked with a grin - and Vincent shuddered at the sight. Matthew was sucking slowly on his finger, licking the precum off it as though it was the tastiest thing in the world.

N-no. Vincent couldn't take his eyes off of the sight. He groaned, one claw reaching towards his aching cock - but Matthew slapped it away with a smirk.

"You're gonna have to let me take this at my own pace."

Vincent shuddered. Matthew's tone was just the right amount of teasing, his every word full of promises of greater things to come. Part of his mind told him that there wasn't that much the human could do - that he was simply too large for the human, among other things - but he simply didn't care. Matthew had shown himself to be good at improvisation, anyway...

So distracted were the both of them that neither noticed the scales start spreading just a little faster up Matthew's skin, and his muscles growing ever so slightly.

What Matthew did notice, on the other hand, was the way his cock strained even harder against his pants. The human grunted as he gave his package a brief rub, noting the way Vincent followed his hands with slightly wide eyes. "Like what you see?" he teased. Vincent coughed abruptly, suddenly awkward.

Y-yes. Perhaps a little more than I should.

Matthew laughed at that, bringing himself closer so that he could grind the bulge in his pants against the deathclaw's aching cock. It was far too large for him to properly manipulate, with their respective sizes - but he could press little kisses against the sensitive skin, grind his own crotch against the deathclaw.

And such a reaction he drew! The first time those soft human lips pressed against Vincent's cock, the deathclaw practically lifted the human's entire body up as he gasped, thrusting his hips into the air. S-sorry...

"I'll take it as a compliment," Matthew smirked. His palms teased along the plating on the deathclaw's cock, and Vincent _trembled_in his effort to hold his reactions back and prevent himself from injuring the human. It wasn't long before Matthew was practically wrapped around his shaft, his own smaller manhood pressing against Vincent's through the fabric of his pants, his mouth pressed against the tip of the deathclaw's member.

_You are... making it very... difficult to control myself._Vincent's breaths were heavy, his back pressed hard against the wall and his eyes squeezed shut. It was the reason he didn't see the changes as the scales spread even more rapidly along Matthew's body; they rippled across his face in a wave, almost, with his eyes and facial features changing along the way. All at once, his pupils were reptilian in nature, his jaw beginning to stretch outwards in the snout typical of a deathclaw.

It was when his vision changed that Matthew realised what was happening - but rather than frighten him, the changes _excited_him. The change was accompanied by a strong sense of power as his muscles began to reinforce themselves, preparing for an even greater transformation. There was no pain as his bones began to stretch and warp, to turn.

And Matthew finally knew what he was turning into.

The prospect was incredible. It helped that he knew that every moment he spent in contact with Vincent was encouraging the transformation, speeding it up - he couldn't have stopped it now had he wanted to, and the truth of the matter was that all he wanted at this point was to encourage it. Matthew didn't have that much to lose, back in his human life, and far more to gain in this one. For one thing, he already had a friend. That on its own was far more than he'd had before.

Matthew let out a low growl as his body began to change further. The more of Vincent's precum he tasted, the faster he changed; the scales rapidly spread down his stomach and caused the muscle to expand. His hands were growing at rate far faster than his torso was growing; his spine lengthened to accommodate the new, bestial structure of his body.

The transformation wasn't done, of course, but neither was his job.

Vincent opened his eyes - then opened them wider as he saw the half-changed human in front of him. What's happening to you?!

I'm changing. Matthew understood deathclaw language far better than he had before, now, was even able to speak in it without any prompting. It's so good, Vincent. Let me have more...

Matthew, this - this isn't right. Vincent was worried, the changing human saw - and he nuzzled against the deathclaw's neck, now that he was large enough to do so. You're becoming...

A deathclaw, yes. Matthew shrugged his now-large shoulders, his fingers mutating further into the weapons typical of deathclaws. His new digits traced between the plating on his partner's dick, and Vincent let out a shuddering gasp in response. I don't mind. I have nothing to lose.

Are you... sure? Vincent was hesitant. I will warn you, Matthew, I am... deeply in heat. If this continues, I will not be able to control myself...

Let me answer you like this. Matthew grinned, abruptly - and Vincent threw his head back, his horns almost piercing the wall behind him as he moaned. The former human had engulfed the entirety of his cock in his expanding head, his newly developed tongue flicking across those sensitive plates.

That was the end of rationality for Vincent. For all his concern, he could not fight the primality of his nature, the desire to rut, to mate. With a sudden growl and strength he had not exhibited before, he thrust himself forward, pinning the forming deathclaw down against the ground.

You are mine. The deathclaw's language and words were almost feral, now, a different sort of dialect that Matthew was still somehow able to understand. The smaller deathclaw moaned his agreement, thrust his hips upwards as the change reached his lower body and tore through his clothing; tattered fragments of his pants fell to the ground as a newly ridged and plated cock revealed itself.

That, however, wasn't what Vincent was interested in. The deathclaw jerked Matthew's legs up instead, even as a bulge began to form at the former human's lower back and a tail began to build; he aimed his shaft at the human's entrance and barely even waited before he forced himself in with a jerk.

It was a good thing that the changing passage was even more flexible than usual. Rather than cause Matthew pain, he only moaned with pleasure as his body was forced to adapt further to deathclaw physiology. Clawed fingers wrapped desperately around his cock, stroking in time with Vincent's thrusts, and god -

Throes of heat or not, Vincent was _good_at what he did. He was rough, yes, almost brutal in his fucking because of the sheer arousal raging through his body - but even with the heat raging through him, he remembered how to give pleasure. He ground his hips against Matthew's own, adjusted his angle to see what could get make the smaller deathclaw release the loudest sounds.

Matthew's ass clenched around him each time he thrust in, his passage warm and tight - and only growing more so as his transformation proceeded. Natural deathclaw regeneration kicked in, his passage tightening again almost as quickly as Vincent pulled out; the next time he thrust in, it was smooth and slick and wrapped hard around his cock, practically sucking him in.

Oh, god yes. Matthew's body language was practically haywire, but it was easy enough to see his pleasure from the arch of his back, the panting moans and the trembling shaft. His hands continued to jerk around his cock, but the movement was shaky; he was overwhelmed more by Vincent's rough thrusts, and his mind was far more focused on that. God, please, more...

You are mine? Vincent questioned, with a deep, pleased growl. His hips stilled for a moment, and Matthew cried out, clawing at the ground.

Yes, yes - am yours, your mate to claim and do with as you will! Please-

Vincent didn't wait for Matthew to finish. His own pleasure was mounting, now, and Matthew's transformation had already reached his feet, his bones warping into those familiar digitigrade structures.

The deathclaw thrust into his mate once more, roaring loud into the cave, and he came. Streams of hot seed flooded into Matthew's passage, pouring back out through the sides. It felt good. It had been so long, since he'd gotten a proper release - so long since he'd had a willing partner... The flow of seed seemed almost endless, and he kept thrusting, unable to stop.

It catalysed Matthew's transformation, at the very least. The former human's body abruptly bulked one final time so that he was almost Vincent's size and strength, and the final change came with a rush of pleasure that made the human cum as well. His hips arched into the air as his seed spurted, landing on the new deathclaw's face, his chest. The horns finally spiralled out of his skull, completing his transformation.

Matthew panted, slowly coming down from the high. It was... strange, to be in a different body - but he was no longer so frail, so fragile. He was strong. Perhaps not as strong as the other deathclaws, but he had a mate...

He gave Vincent a loving look. The deathclaw hadn't even pulled out yet, but he snorted at the look, leaning forward to nuzzle into Matthew. You are a strange man, falling in love so quickly. And to give up so much...

Are you any different? Matthew countered. Vincent paused at that, then shook his head slowly.

No. I suppose not.