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(Meta note: thanks again toDraugr for letting me borrow Randall and Kana.)

(Content note: I'm not exactly sure what the tags on this should be, but I think "supernatural romance" is a bit pejorative. Also, note that there is a moment of body horror -- but only a moment. I think said creature would be a bit exotic but nothing too strange for a site like this.)

The Strangest Boyfriend Ever

Randall woke up to the feeling of fur beside him -- or so he thought. But when the wolf opened is eyes, there was no one there. And he knew, once more awake, that he came home alone last night.

It was the third time this month -- but it was also a month when he hadn't taken up anyone at he bars on any of their offers. So he presumed his erotic imagination was primed for it, as much pawing as he'd been doing before bed.

It also seemed to prime Randall for the most interesting part of his day at work. He was handling groceries for a wolf -- or at least some kind of canine. The head shape suggested wolf, but his snout and frame were too thin, and his fur was too uniformly gray.

When Randall read him him the total, this customer pulled out his wallet, and after tossing down two or three bills, found his wallet empty before the last quarter of the bill was covered. After mumbling and fumbling a bit, he sighed, and then gave Randall a look of serious embarrassment.

Randall had been eyeing him before this happened, finding him rather curious, and even a little attractive. And so, in response to this terrible look, Randall found himself saying: "it's okay, just take it."

The shopper looked up at him in surprise, and hesitated.

"Really," Randall insisted as if he'd been asked a question. "Take it. Don't worry about it."

The other canine smiled in relief. Randall bagged his groceries, stealing another glance or two at his frame, and let him walk out with a contented look. Randall took the difference from his own pocket to shore up the register; the equivalent of being dinged for leaving an hour early.

These little erotic events scattered around his life lately not did not worry Randall, merely puzzled him... and left him with an affect that lingered to a surprising degree. His encounter was brief and chaste, yet he was still occasionally thinking about this complete stranger hours later.

When he brought it up with Kana, his roomate, she had her own, more sinister explanation. "They are clearly starting to escalate," she warned. "And the more they do, the more I'm convinced: you're being seduced by a spirit."

"Oh yeah," answered the wolf dryly, "those spirits have to lure unsuspecting mortals to them in order to kill them and steal their souls, don't they? That's definitely what it is: a spirit who prays on unsuspecting gay guys. I'm terrified."

"Spirits are real!" the German Shepherd insisted. "My brother was plagued by one for years! He never said how he got it to go away, but now I should ask him."

"I thought he did that," Randall snarked, "by switching to a better medication for his Schizophrenia."

"Fine, don't believe me! See what happens to you! Go out and chase tail like you always do, and don't worry about anything!"

The escalation in her tone suggested Randall had struck a nerve. "Look, I'm sorry," he backed down. "I was just... looking for something other than mumbo jumbo as an explanation. If you want to believe in that stuff, then fine."

"But you don't think it's real."

"And you don't think God is real. So aren't we even?"

"I guess," she answered. She was stiff, but didn't seem as sharp.

"Good. Now, I'm going to go chase me some tail. And if I don't come back by 10 --"

"-- go to bed early, I know. Good night," She added with a grin.

Randall gave her a smile and a double-eyebrow raise, and left.

But by 9:30, he was once again walking home, his streak of boring males unbroken. He didn't want to drink enough to overlook their flaws, but tomorrow, he thought he might.

Maybe his ex-boyfriend was right, and the local jobs for college grads were drying up -- except for those like his current job, which did not require a degree. He didn't want to believe that everyone with an intellect was leaving for work elsewhere, but if this dry spell of any male with an intellect continued, he might have accept it.

Upon his return to the house, however, his train of thought was interrupted by something unusual: a note taped to the front door. He took it off and unfolded it to find the glimmers of eroticism dotting his life had escalated significantly.

The 18-point printed type read:

Dear Handsome,

If you came home empty handed, and want to try again, go to the bus stop at the end of the block. I'll be there.

Hopefully yours, Nightshade

Randall knew it was for him, but he wanted to see what Kana thought. So, he brought it inside, and found her sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop.

"Uh... is this for you?" Randall asked, as he handed Kana the note.

She read it, and immediately snorted.

"That definitely sounds like a dude," she replied. "And one who's more literary than most of the ones you complain about lately."

"Or, maybe it's a 'spirit', oooooh," Randall teased.

"Maybe," she playfully answered. "Are you going to take a risk and find out?"

"He's asking me to go down the block, not to the park at night. So why not?"

"I'm not surprised," she added, "since you haven't gotten any in weeks."

Randall gave her sharp look -- but only until she looked up to see it, and then chuckled. It was only for comedic effect.

"Have fun," she replied, returning to her laptop. "I'll be in bed by 10:30, if you're not back yet."

Dusk was fast becoming twilight as Randall returned outside. Going to the end of the block, he saw nothing at first but a bus stop. He wondered if this mysterious furson was late; or, perhaps, was taking a bus to get here.

When one came by, he watched everyone get off. None of them even looked at him. Once the bus was empty, and everyone walked away, he decided to give up. He didn't particularly feel like waiting for someone he didn't even know.

He had only taken one step, when suddenly, he heard a baritone voice with a slight rasp behind him: "hey, handsome."

Randall turned, and saw a tall, thin canine with scraggly fur, wearing a tank top, jeans, and nothing on his digitrade feet.

When he walked toward Randall, his ears, snout, jawline and long fur reminded Randall of the guy who'd underpaid at the store. But it couldn't be the same guy, because this male's fur was a much darker color, maybe even black.

Just looking at him, Randall would have presumed this slightly-older canine to be homeless. But his smooth movements and gliding steps suggested he had a life of ease, if not luxury. He also radiated an ineffable aura of not only self assurance, but one that made it hard for Randall to take his eyes off him.

"Um... do we know each other?" Randall asked, still not sure how to react to the male before him.

"Perhaps from another time and place," he answered cryptically, "but I'm interested in tonight."

That was not making Randall feel good about this risk. "And what does that imply, exactly?" asked Randall, a little edge in his voice.

The other canine quickly clarified: "well, I saw you from across the bar earlier tonight... and when I saw you leave alone, I thought: this is my chance to get to know someone special."

Warning bells were ringing in Randall's head. He never saw anyone like this at any of the bars he went to. This guy seemed to be up to something. "Why didn't you just talk to me? And what makes you think I'm special?"

"I'm really bad in bars... but I hear what other guys say about you. And they all say you're kind, and smart, and you'd really like someone for more than an evening. And that's enough for me to make me curious. I'd like to get to know you better, if that's not too much to ask."

It was still not quite right to Randall, but undeniably flattering. And the implication -- this guy wanted more than just one night -- was appealing on its own, too. That was enough to make Randall not walk away in this moment.

"Um... let's go somewhere and talk," he offered. He would give this male a chance.

"I'd like that," the stranger answered.

***

As they sat down across from each other at the table, and Randall got a better look, he figured out why he was having such trouble identifying the other male's species. His companion's fur was so long that it not only obscured the shape of his body, but the fuzz on his cheeks puffed them up. It made his snout seem narrower than it actually was.

In the neon of the cafe sign above them, Randall could also tell his companion's fur was indeed jet black. And though it didn't smell, it was either really greasy, or covered in some kind of gel that made it shine very strangely in the light.

"So... you're Nightshade?" Randall asked as they sat down.

"Yes. And I know your name: Randall."

"Nice to meet you," the wolf answered with a smile. "Nightshade, huh? What kind of name is that?" It was pretty unusual, after all.

"Let's just say it's a family name. I'd rather not explain it now." The other canine seemed not inclined to talk about it, and in fact, now seemed to be getting nervous.

"That's okay. What do you do for a living?"

"Not much... I inherited my life, including an old house. It's nothing to look at, really..." He never finished.

Randall filled it in. "So you're from old money then?"

"Older than I would care to admit," he answered with a nervous smile. "But money doesn't matter to me, when you're as lonely as I am."

"I can understand that," Randall offered. After all, what had he spent the last three months doing since the departure of love from his life?

When the waiter finally arrived, Randall got coffee. Nightshade passed entirely, to the wolf's surprise. As scrawny as he looked, and as wealthy as he was implied to be, Randall expected his companion to buy three meals and eat them all in one bite.

"If I may be so forward," Nightshade asked, voice becoming lower and more stern, "what do you usually look for in a guy? I mean, a boyfriend?"

Randall thought back to the last one he'd had. "Warm, kind, take-charge, not afraid of books... just an interesting furson who has a brain, not just a body."

"Well, how does someone who writes poetry, studies history as a hobby, and spends his day yelling at money managers sound?"

Randall smiled for the first time. "Pretty good... tell me more."

Nightshade finally seemed to be relaxing a bit. "Well, as I said, I live in an old house. A very old house. It's got a long history, and researching it got me into local history, since it was apparently owned by some famous people."

Randall wasn't into history, but he found himself enthralled by the previous owners, including artists and local politicians. Nightshade knew a great deal, and clearly had an intellect that was getting Randall more and more interested.

That conversation continued until Randall's coffee showed up. Nightshade talked about his house and local history, Randall talked a little bit about his much-more-boring job, and his previous college experiences. That got them into college stories.

By the time Randall was getting a refill on his coffee, he concluded that he had fallen for this guy. Similarly, Nightshade seemed genuinely interested in him, and was willing to be vulnerable in a less creepy way than their awkward meeting.

"So," asked Nightshade once the conversation came to a natural pause, "what do you think?"

"Of college?"

"Of me."

"I like you," Randall admitted with a warm smile.

Nightshade smiled back, still a hint of shyness, but more a sense that he was trying to be polite.

"But," Randall continued, "I do have one more question: how good are you at that... take-change part I mentioned a while ago?" He wanted to be circumspect, lest Nightshade think he was trying to be a mooch.

Nightshade seemed to think about this for a moment. "I don't want to pressure you," he answered, "but my last boyfriend was a strong sub, and he was very happy with the way I.. handled him... but it took a while for us to... fully connect. To fully... trust each other... that way."

Randall tried to reassure him, as he took a sip of his coffee. "I can understand that. My boyfriends wanted a sub, and were pretty clear about what they wanted, and found me. It just flowed. But even then, there was always stuff I had to figured out as I went alo--"

Randall's heart stopped when his eyes returned from the coffee cup to Nightshade. The canine across from him suddenly had 50 more pounds of muscle on his frame; and with this additional bulk, now looked quite a bit more imposing.

"How the shit did you do that?" Randall gasped without thinking.

"Do what?" asked Nightshade with a perplexed look.

"You... got bigger!" he blurted.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about these!" Randall snapped, leaning forward to grab his arm.

But once Randall's fingers slid through the long, rough fur, his hand grasped no thing but air.

The wolf recoiled in horror with a gasp.

He was still paralyzed as the other male lamented: "not another one... I'm sorry ..."

And when Randall blinked, the booth across from him was empty.

Unable to believe what just happened, Randall stood up, almost panicking. Without thinking, he looked around the booth seat across from his coffee, as if the other male did a magic trick and hid. But he found not a trace of Nightshade.

However, he did find something else: a small black book. Opening it revealed not phone numbers, but prose in minuscule but cursive script with amazing calligraphy.

Unable to resist, Randall flipped through it, and concluded it was a diary. At the end, it described excitement about meeting a new guy, and optimism that this time the author would not be rejected for what he was -- left unspecified.

A couple pages before, he read about checking out Randall at the grocery store, and invisible visits to see where and how Randall lived. So, Randall thought, he hadn't imagined those strange events after all.

Before that, there was a report that "Wershal" had a potential mate he should look at, which Randall presumed was him. Who his report was from was not described, either.

Before that was page upon page of poetry and lamentations over "Cody." The two of them had apparently been very close, and after reading more pages than he felt comfortable with, Randall concluded this male had died very unexpectedly.

Randall was very confused about all this. Shadowing him was really creepy, and not cool; the conversation he'd just had was enough to infatuate him; the poetry made him sympathetic to the loss of a boyfriend, which hit him close to home with his recent break-up.

But it certainly convinced Randall that those occurrences were not just in his mind. Their reality may have been debatable, but this diary was real. And, after dropping a single bill on the table for the coffee -- a heavy tip, but didn't require getting change -- he put the book in his pocket and walked out.

Upon his return home, he showed it to Kana. And for the first time in his life, he seriously listened to her mumbo jumbo explanation of the incorporeal shape shifters that were out in the world.

***

After sleeping on it, Randall decided to write a note before work:

Dear Nightshade,

I think I am starting to understand. I'm not promising anything, but I want to talk more. Please come back.

Your Friend, Randall

"This is not a good idea," insisted Kana when she saw his note.

"Just because I'm willing to consider the idea these supernatural creatures may exist," Randall insisted, "doesn't mean I'm buying your description completely. 'Soul stealing' and 'murder' is something I can't believe, after seeing what he thought of his last boyfriend."

"If you really want to do this, then I have only one request," she insisted, "bring him home so I can see him once. Okay?"

Randall thought this was strange, the opposite of common logic in the face of a dangerous furson, but it was an easy promise to make. "I will," he answered.

"Then... good luck..." Her tone was more suitable for a funeral than well wishing.

Randall just shrugged it off, and headed outside.

After closing the door, he taped the note at the same height he found the previous one. And the moment he turned around after posting it, he saw the shaggy canine once again, muscles and all.

"You really want me back?" he asked with nervous enthusiasm.

Randall just about fell down from the jolt of his body's startle response. "Don't do that!" he snapped. "It's not normal!" He also noticed Nightshade had now had white fur, but didn't think much of it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Nightshade sighed. "Should I come back after your work?"

"Fine. And please knock on the door, okay?"

"As you wish," Nightshade answered lyrically. And once again, after Randall turned away for just a moment, he was gone.

At work, Randall did not see the mysterious guy who was short. He reflected on both how strange it was, but also how effective it was. Nightshade seemed a bit creepy, but was clearly trying to deal with awkwardness more than anything. Romance was hard, but not understanding social convention of "mortals" probably made it even harder.

In fact, Randall found himself thinking about Nightshade through most of his shift... more than his conscious mind wanted him to. Something about those muscles did, actually, make him start to conform to Randall's body type; and his poetry, his verbose diary, and his conversational skill showed he had a brain.

It was enough for Randall to start feeling better about him. He just had to get over this sense of unease; something that more talking, and getting questions answered, would help with, he was certain.

Not a moment after Randall got home and took his sandals off did a knock come at the door. When Randall turned around and answered it, sure enough, it was Nightshade. This time, his fur was gray, and he looked exactly like the furson at the grocery store.

"May I come in?" Nightshade asked politely.

"Certainly," Randall offered graciously. "Kana!?" he called, "I'd like you to meet someone when you get a minute!"

"I'll be down soon!" she answered back.

"Who's that?" Nightshade asked.

"Just my roommate. I'm into guys, she's into girls, it's the perfect arrangement to cut rent in half!" he added with a smile.

"It would seem a good idea," the canine replied, "if one has to worry about rent."

"Anyway, would you like something to -- well, I guess you don't eat or drink, do you?"

"It would just pour onto the floor," answered Nightshade with a hint of apology in his voice, "and you'd have to clean it up."

"Right. Well, you can at least sit down on the couch."

He did, dropping down on it like any other furson -- except the cushions did not give nearly as much as his bulk suggested they should.

"Okay, Randall, who is it?" she asked from around the corner.

"We're in the living room!" he called back.

She walked around the corner, and with one look at Nightshade gasped in surprise.

"Kana," Randall tried to introduce, "this i--"

"You!" she snarled, pointing an angry finger, and completely ignoring Randall. "That fur! That look! You're the shape shifter! What plans do you have for my friend!?"

Nightshade looked surprised by her accusatory tone. "We're just dating, miss, uh, Kana, was it?"

Randall thought that was a bit presumptuous, but didn't want to split hairs at this moment.

"Sure you are!" she yelled. "Today you'll date him! And tomorrow you'll suck out his soul and kill him to feed your irresistible hunger! Won't you, you FIEND!?"

"That is not true," tried to reassure Nightshade.

But she was having none of it. "Randall! If you want to keep your heart, your eyes, and all of your limbs, throw him out and never speak to him again!"

"Listen, Kana," Randall tried to explain, standing up off the couch. Nightshade rose with him.

"STAY BACK!" she suddenly screamed, running into the kitchen.

Randall was about to follow her, but she soon returned. With a knife.

"STAY BACK!" she repeated. "AND DON'T YOU TOUCH HIM!" she ordered Nightshade.

Randall was truly stunned by this behavior. His mind was reeling, trying to figure out what to say or do, when Nightshade acted first.

"Are you going to hurt my boyfriend?" he demanded, voice becoming deeper and unearthly.

"STAY BACK!" she shrieked. "I'LL KILL YOU!"

"No," he commanded, "you won't."

Nightshade bore an icy stare into her, as he spread his arms out. His fur seemed to arch, and his feet lifted slightly off the ground as he concentrated on her.

After a tense moment, her eyes grew wide. She suddenly looked in front of him, her eyes transfixed upon something invisible to Randall.

She started shaking. "Oh no! Please no!"

She dropped the knife.

"NO!" she shrieked in terror. "NOOOOO! RANDALL! RUUUUUUUN!"

And then she passed out, her falling body missing the knife's blade by inches.

Randall was still trying to process everything that had just happened. But once he snapped out of it, he realized his best friend and confidant was motionless on the floor.

He rushed over to her, heart pounding, and shook her. "Kana. Kana!"

She did not respond.

"What did you do to her!?" he demanded.

"I just... scared her," Nightshade explained meekly. "If she had attacked me, it would have gone straight through, and you could have been seriously hurt. She'll be okay, I promise."

Randall didn't really absorb this explanation... but she did still have a pulse, and was slowly breathing. Contrary to his initial assessment, she was still alive.

"Since you at least seem able to pick things up," he snapped, "help me get her onto the couch, would you?"

Without hesitation, Nightshade floated over to her body without touching the ground, knelt down, picked up her up effortlessly, floated over to the couch, and gently put her down across it.

"Thanks," sighed Randall, the adrenaline still pumping through him as he tried to calm down. "She'll recover?"

"They usually wake up in 20 to 30 minutes. Do not worry."

"Well, you'd better be out of the house by then," Randall insisted.

"Certainly... but could we at least talk? That is why I came."

Randall was not in the mood now, but felt he should at least try. "About what?"

"Us," warmly answered Nightshade, "and how touched I am that you want me back."

The events of the past five minutes were mitigating the affection Randall felt when he wrote the letter. But if he was honest, Kana behaved just as strangely as Nightshade did. He tried his level best not to hold this against him.

"Just... let me calm down, and organize my thoughts," Randall insisted, slumping down in the chair across from the couch, "and then we can talk."

But the moment he sat down in the chair, he felt exhausted. And before he knew it, with Nightshade watching him affectionately, he ended up falling asleep.

***

What woke him up was Kana's stirring. By then, Nightshade was gone once again. In his place was a piece of paper with an address on it.

As Randall expected, Kana did apologize profusely, and accepted his insistence that Nightshade was only scaring her to prevent her from doing something terrible. But she maintained her stance: Nightshade would be the end of him, sooner or later.

She begged Randall not to go to that address -- his "source of power" -- insisting he would never return. But Randall didn't believe that. He sensed that all the answers were there, and it made sense for Nightshade to "lure" the wolf, as she put it. That was part of "getting to know someone."

But he did reassure her that he wouldn't set foot inside without getting answers first. It felt like everything was preventing him from learning about Nightshade's supernatural side, and he wanted to make sure that Nightshade wasn't the trap she feared -- or the fantasy of his crush.

So, with a promise to call her, and permission to borrow her car, he set out. She wasn't going anywhere while he was out anyway, "just in case." It also helped to put his mind at ease.

The directions online took Randall on quite a drive, way out into countryside. In the meandering dirt roads, however, he got lost. Fortunately, he found a hitchhiker -- with jet black scraggly fur, a thin snout, and wearing a tank top and jeans.

"I was hoping you'd show up," Randall playfully said as he pulled up.

"I was thinking you'd get lost," Nightshade replied in an identical tone.

With Nightshade guiding him, Randall got there in no time. It made the wolf wonder if there was actually a supernatural trick involved in this navigation, but that wasn't very important to him. Such a creature would have every right to need and expect a very high level of privacy.

But when he got out of his car, Randall was still surprised. The house sitting in the remote field was barely holding together. From the outside, he could tell it was slightly off its foundation, and missing a quarter of its roof.

"I guess when you said old house," Randall remarked nervously, "you weren't kidding."

"It's far more than it appears," replied Nightshade.

As the two of them approached it, Randall stopped short of the door. Now was the time to put his foot down. "Um, look, I'm not going in there until you answer some questions first."

Nightshade seemed surprised, but did not resist. "Um, okay, ask."

Randall thought he would start with the biggest one. "I read some of your journal," Randall began. "I mean, I'm assuming you dropped it on purpose, so you knew that. And I read about Cody, and the way you set me up... and learned you can write poetry, too."

Nightshade smiled. Randall decided it must be because he was smiling without really thinking about it.

"On the other hand, Kana is an expert in the occult --"

Randall didn't think of her that way, but didn't know how else to describe her.

"-- and I've never seen her flip out like that. She thinks you're some kind of shape-shifter who is using romance to 'lure me in' so you can kill me and steal my soul."

"That's not true," replied Nightshade in the same earnest tone he previously used.

"I'm not saying I believe her," Randall clarified. "But even if it's not true, what is she talking about? Is there another legend or spirit I should be worried about?"

"That's a long story," Nightshade stated gently, getting closer to Randall and wrapping his arm around him.

It was a feeling Randall didn't mind as much as he thought he would -- nor the weak smell that he was now close enough to Nightshade in order to pick up on. It was somewhat earthly, but still smelled a bit like sweat. It vaguely reminded him of his old boyfriend.

"The short version is, we have long existed beside mortals, and many of my kin do kill them in order to sustain their energies. But I am not like them. I respect and care for you mortals, and am a pariah for it. When I said I wanted something that lasted more than one night, I meant it."

"So you won't eat my soul?" Randall asked with a smile. "I mean, you obviously want to get into my heart, and isn't that how supernatural love always goes?"

"No," he answered, not smiling. "But, if I am to be honest, it is true I seek more than merely your affection."

"Let me guess," Randall suggestively answered, "my tail?"

"I wish it were that easy. Rather, I want your impetus vitae."

That broke the mood Randall was settling into entirely, and made him pull out of Nightshade's reach. "My what?" he asked in utter confusion.

"Think of it as your 'life force.' As an outcast, I must siphon it from mortals to survive. Instead of killing for it, I've managed to find boyfriends who are willing to keep my supernatural powers and needs a secret, and give it to me along with their companionship. I hope you can be the next."

It seemed like a strange idea, but no more strange than anything else about Nightshade. If Randall was willing to sleep with him, and emotionally attach to him, then what was giving him what he needed to survive?

"But, what exactly does that entail?" Randall asked, still suspicious.

"Well... it's rather... complicated. But I picked you, because you have the best chance of enjoying it."

The way he said it reminded Randall of something he read in the diary. "Is that why Weer-Guile, or whatever his name was, told you to find me?"

"He has an eye for spotting what you call 'kinkiness.' If you're a little kinky, and able to handle something... scary, then I'll get what I need. In return, I'll give you... the kind of satisfaction you expect from all those one-night stands."

Nightshade's tone set Randall well on his way to being back in his affectionate mood. "So are you saying," he asked suggestively, "the sex will be wonderful, but really weird?"

"And pretty often, if you want," added Nightshade with a smile, though one of kindness rather than desire. "I'm relatively weak at the moment, and it would be nice to get a lot of vitae..."

Randall smiled, his dick starting to react now.

"But," Nightshade insisted, "don't get excited. As I said before, this will take some... getting used to."

"Why's that?"

"Because it is difficult to obtain from a living host. Others of my kind attack mortals because they seek the easy source: your blood."

Randall listened, hoping he would be reassured compared to the implications of that statement.

"In the beginning, I had to find boyfriends who would let me play vampire bat. They were really hard to find, and even harder to keep. Since then, I found a much more convenient source of vitae, which I extracted from Cody, and would ask to extract from you: your sweat."

Randall thought that didn't sound so bad. "So if I exercise, and you lick it off, I can feed you?"

"Quality is more important than quantity," Nightshade explained, "and a visit to the gym would not suffice. Only extreme stress can change your blood chemistry enough to make you sweat vitae. And I have only gotten it to happen work using... another form."

It took Randall a moment to realize what he meant by that. "Another form? This isn't what you 'really look like?'"

"The form you see now is how I can 'pass' for normal. None are more or less 'real' to me. My 'self' is not even really visible in this world... but this other form... is the one that scared your friend earlier today."

That made a chill run down Randall's spine. But he could tell Nightshade had more to say, and at least he was being honest and up front with him, rather than "surprising" him with this.

"Go on," Randall offered nervously.

"Cody and I had... something wonderful together. It was a little game, where I... really scared him, and got him some exercise. He sweated, cooled down, and we cuddled. To follow it up, we had the sex he enjoyed, which was also very sweaty."

Nightshade paused a moment. Randall wasn't sure what to think, but couldn't find a question to ask. So, once again, Nightshade continued.

"He described it to me once as a horror movie. It's scary, he said, but it also has very clear boundaries built from trust and affection, and the idea that the monster isn't real. Those boundaries are what make you feel safe, and willing to experience the fear temporarily."

Randall thought he was beginning to understand. It wasn't out of the question for him, given what some of his kinks were, but still was a little suspicious. He felt like he had that foundation for those "boundaries", but wasn't sure if they would protect him as well.

"So... what if I don't like this idea?" he finally asked.

"All I ask," Nightshade offered, "is that you try it once. You will never be in any real danger, and I will always make sure there is a way for you to leave. If you can't stand it, I'll find someone else, and wish you the best."

Randall didn't want to walk away that fast; he just wanted to hear those words. His continued staring at the other canine -- which Nightshade didn't even seem to notice -- was reminding him of what he found attractive about Nightshade.

So he asked another question instead. "Uh... is this a kink of yours?"

"I enjoy vitae the way you might enjoy a meal, not the way Cody enjoyed sex. Vitae sustains me, companionship improves my solitary existence. To be honest, sex is just something I can do to make my boyfriends really happy, and make up for what I ask of them. I don't understand it at all. And I don't want to pressure you into anything."

But Randall just smiled. "It's not pressuring me to tell me what makes you happy," Randall insisted. "And when it comes to being topped, I'm pretty... flexible. If you want to scare me as part of sex, then I'm willing to give it a try."

Nightshade seemed surprised, despite his relative confidence compared to when Randall first met him "Are... are you sure?" he asked, eyes lighting up.

"Now I'm going to be honest: I like you. You write poetry, and study history, and seem like someone I could have a serious relationship with. I think this whole spirit thing is a bit weird, and I'm not fully into that yet, but you are worth the time to try and figure that out."

Nightshade smiled nervously, but didn't say anything.

"So I want to give you a try. Show me how I can give you what you want."

"In that case," Nightshade answered, "let's go inside."

***

As Randall reached for the doorknob, Nightshade stated with more dominance than he had yet shown: "I would impress upon you that six corporeal beings have ever seen the inside of this house. Please recognize the honor... and prepare yourself for a shock."

At this point, Randall felt unprepared, but also that he was getting used to his unease and confusion. So as he grabbed the knob, he offered: "I'm about as ready as I'll ever be."

When he pulled it open, he saw not a room, but a soft blue empty space without any boundaries except the frame of the door he looked though. It seemed like a door directly into the ocean.

"Step inside, slowly," directed Nightshade.

Randall did... and despite seeing nothing beneath him, did not fall. The sound of being underwater engulfed his ears for a moment as he passed through an invisible barrier. He held his breath reflexively, but soon felt air blow upon him that was extremely warm, and breathed again.

Nightshade, in the blink of an eye, disappeared behind him, and re-appeared in front of him. "Would you mind closing the door?" he asked, voice echoing as if they were in a large room. "Otherwise, someone could peep in on our private time."

With nothing but another of Nightshade's gesturing fur arches, the entire area suddenly turned into a cozy bedroom, lit and heated by a fireplace to the same warm temperature. Aside from some knick-knacks on the mantle, a boarded-up window, and an easy chair, the only thing worthy of note in the room was a king-sized bed.

Randall couldn't believe his eyes, but closed the door, walked over to the bed, and with a stroke of the pillow, found it to be, well, real. Unlike Nightshade's arm in that diner.

"How is this possible?" Randall asked with more wonder than anything.

"Because you are standing in the Bridge. It is a space adjacent to the world I come from. It follows our distinct natural laws, but mortals can still reside in it. It is how I first came to this world, and is now my sanctuary... my home."

Randall nervously sat down on the bed, still watching Nightshade hover in the corner.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," he offered, as he drifted closer to Randall. "I want to make sure this is a place where you can experience... intimacy. After all, home is where you are taken by other males to have sex, is it not?"

"Um... yeah," Randall answered coyly, stretching out on the bed as Nightshade chastely sat on the corner of it. He found his dick rising more. There was appeal in the idea of sex that was literally reality-bending.

"Then let this be a place of relaxation. After I get my vitae, we can return here for your to recover form your 'horror movie' experience."

"I think it would be perfect for that," Randall sighed.

"I'm glad... so may we begin?"

"Oh, uh, sure," was all Randall managed to say, sitting up again.

Nightshade smiled again. But this time, his eyes were not reflecting kindness. Rather, it was the nearest thing Randall had seen to desire.

"In that case, take off your clothes," Nightshade directed.

With anticipation, Randall pulled off his shirt, shorts, and underwear, leaving nothing but his fur and a half-chub poking from his sheath that was fast becoming a full hard-on.

But Nightshade responded by rising up above the ground again, and with another arch, the room around the bed changed from a cozy bedroom, to a long hallway of stone, lit by smokeless torches.

"And now," explained Nightshade, "you're going to run. Because if you don't, you will be caught by... the sex monster."

Randall smiled playfully.

"You may like the sound of that in theory," Nightshade warned, "but trust me: you wouldn't like being caught. After all, sex is fun only for so long, is it not? And prolonging pleasure to the point of pain is his specialty."

That, Randall had to admit, sounded less fun.

"Put on your sandals," encouraged Nightshade, "you'll need a head start."

Randall slowly got up off the bed, put his sandals back on, and still smiling, started jogging.

"Good luck!" called Nightshade as he disappeared from view.

Randall kept jogging for only a minute or two, before he went down to walking. His heart rate was up, and he didn't see the point of running down this empty corridor anyway.

He did stop for a moment to look at a door that was going past him. He opened it, and saw the field outside where they had come in. This, he presumed, was his emergency exit from this scenario. But he didn't even really feel scared yet.

But the moment he closed it again, that changed. He heard a distant, alien roar, and then a steady drumbeat of footsteps. A creature with a tremendous stride was coming toward to him.

Reflexively, his body kicked into action, and he started jogging down the hall. But despite their much slower gate, the steps seemed to be getting closer. And closer. And closer.

Before long, even though he was now fully running, Randall could see the shadow of something huge behind him. He couldn't see what it was, but it was twisted enough by the torch light that he got a shot of adrenaline and started sprinting.

"I love a good chase," growled a deep, unearthly voice that echoed off the narrow walls. "It makes capturing my prey so much more satisfying."

Randall, at this point, was moving his legs as fast as he could and gasping for breath. But as he felt like he was about to collapse, the hall suddenly came to an open doorway.

Without even thinking twice, Randall ran through it, only to find himself suddenly running through a forest at sunset.

He wove in and out of trees, the beast seeming to get confused, allowing him to gain some distance. But it was still hard to see with the shadows of the treetops; and before too long, Randall failed to see the roots of a large tree in his path.

He tripped on them skidding to onto the grass and dirt, and getting terrible scuffs on his hands, arms, and knees. But still, he heard the monster stomping around behind him.

In a blurry panic, Randall picked himself up, ran over to the nearest large tree trunk, and hid behind it. He tried to muffle his breathing, but his body needed so much oxygen, it was really hard to get enough air, and he felt a little dizzy.

After a tense pause, Randall could hear the footsteps crushing leaves and twigs beneath them. This monster was not only tall, but very heavy. He dared not imagine what it looked like... only that the thought of getting caught was terrifying, thanks to its shadows and horrible voice.

"You can't hide from me," roared the voice. "I'll find you! And savor punishing you for your cowardice!"

Crunch. Crack. Footsteps kept wandering in his general direction. Randall knelt down and curled into a ball of fur, as he heard the voice speak again.

"It seems someone tripped on this branch," it mulled, much louder than it had to. "I bet he can't even run anymore. He must be close by..."

Randall was shaking in terror, trying to become as small as possible despite his throbbing palms, arms and knees. He could clean his wounds after he was safe.

"Psst! Randall!" whispered a familiar voice from above him.

After startling, Randall looked up to see the much more familiar form of Nightshade.

"Listen," Nightshade whispered, "I'll distract the monster, you go back the way you came. I can get him lost in here forever!"

Randall nodded, still trying to catch his breath. Through the burning of his injuries, he slowly got up, and after making sure his knees still worked, took a slow peek around the corner. He didn't see anything.

Creeping as quietly as his breathing and his clenched teeth would let him, Randall started working his way from tree to tree. Once he was several trees away, he heard Nightshade's voice far away: "Hey! Monster! Randall's over here! Come get him!"

The heavy footsteps went away from him, and only once they were far enough away did he look around his current trunk to see a stone wall with the doorway he came through.

Quickly, he dashed back into it, his wounds burned more and more. At least he was sweating, as Nightshade had originally hoped.

But his reprieve was not to last, as Randall heard the deep rumbling voice again: "You liar! He's not here! Where did he go!? Answer me!"

Randall immediately started walking down the hall, reading to start running any minute.

It wasn't even ten seconds before he heard his cue: "You tricked me! Curse you! I bet he went back down the hall!" roared the creature.

Randall immediately started jogging again, barely seeing the door in the side of the hallway that he knew to be the exit. His adrenaline, the aching of his muscles, and the burning of his kneecaps that throbbed with every heartbeat kept him jogging and not thinking.

But when the heavy strides behind him resumed, that was enough to put the fear back into him, and his body to force him into a full-blown run. And this time, the shadows seemed to catch up with him more quickly.

Randall pushed himself forward as hard as he could, gasping for breath, driven solely by adrenaline and not up to the same performance a second time. Fortunately, just when Randall was reaching the edge of his desperation, and the strides were about to reach him, the hall ended in another doorway.

It was a fire-lit bedroom! Safety!

After getting inside, and screeching to a halt, he swung the open door shut, and leaned against it, as if the monster were to come crashing through. But it didn't.

He just leaned there, panting, in pain, as the panic started to subside. And after a tense moment, when he closed his eyes and re-opened them again, Nightshade was standing beside the bed.

"Well done," he complimented kindly. "You have escaped the monster."

Randall was panting so hard, he could barely speak. "What... what was that... thing?" he gasped.

"I'll explain later," Nightshade reassured, wrapping an arm around him that felt much more substantial than the last one Randall touched. It was enough to make Randall want to hug him; he was really here.

Nightshade helped the ailing wolf over to the bed, sitting him down on it, and looking at his injuries.

"You can relax now," smoothly murmured the voice in his ear, both arms wrapping around his shoulders. "There's no one here but me."

And then, Randall felt a long, sticky tongue run across his right arm. It hurt at first, but a couple more strokes, and the pain seemed to die down.

Randall closed his eyes, presuming that Nightshade would take care of him. And sure enough, the other male licked all of Randall's injuries, which slowly made them stop hurting.

Then, the tongue then started licking Randall's head and neck. He presumed Nightshade was finally collecting the sweat Randall had offered him earlier.

"You really got a workout," sighed Nightshade's voice, as the tongue continued to take more licks. "I can taste it. And I cannot describe how... wonderful it is."

Randall just smiled, not sure what to say. It didn't feel half bad, either, as hot and sweaty as he was.

As the licks continued to relax him, Randall soon found his dick starting to work its way out of his sheath again. It was the atmosphere of intimacy that did it: the tongue caressing him, the heat of the fire, the pounding of his heart; and the arms of a guy who, if he was honest with himself, was now his boyfriend.

But Randall was too tired to act upon his urges. Instead, he just closed his eyes and relaxed. And without trying, fell asleep in Nightshade's arms.

***

Randall woke up to the feeling of his phone vibrating in his pocket. According to the screen, it was Kana.

"I'm so sorry I forgot to call," was the first thing Randall said, unsure of what time it was.

"You're okay then?" she asked, her concern seeming to be relieved by his voice.

"Yes... in fact, I'm about to have... a pretty good time, I think." He remembered what was to come next, based on Nightshade's previous promises.

"Well, enjoy it. And come back by noon tomorrow, would you please?"

"Sure thing... sorry to keep you up late."

"It's only 10:30, so no big deal. Have fun, good night, and... come back alive tomorrow, okay?" she added.

"I will," sighed the wolf, smile of contentment blunting her hint of distaste, "we'll discuss that later. Good night."

He hung up.

"She must be a very good friend," stated the lanky canine, who was now laying on the bed beside him.

"She is," he answered.

"And it sounds like you're feeling better?" asked Nightshade.

"Much," sighed the wolf. "did you enjoy yourself?" he asked affectionately in return.

"You taste wonderful... but to be honest," answered Nightshade, "I want more."

"I'm afraid I can't run anymore," Randall sighed with a smile. "But I want more, too, if you know what I mean."

"I think so," answered the other canine, trying to imitate his suggestive tone. "There is an option that I think would satisfy us both... but I fear it would ruin the mood."

Randall didn't see how that was possible. "How?"

"I'd have to tell you what that monster really was."

Randall wasn't sure what one thing had to do with the other. "Tell me," he offered.

Nightshade disappeared. "That monster," answered an unearthly voice behind him, "was me."

On the wall, Randall saw that same large shadow behind him. Reflexively, he rolled over to face it. And what he saw horrified him.

Nightshade's thin frame had turned into a hulking beast ten feet tall, covered in shorter fur of the same color, with a large belly and triathlete legs ending in splayed reptilian feet.

More disturbing were the creature's EIGHT arms, exiting the sides of its torso like the legs of a spider. Just as horrific, Nightshade's neck had gained a foot of length and split in two, each stalk now sporting a head. While each head resembled the original, each face now looked almost as reptilian as canine.

Gigantic fangs jutted from each mouth, two pairs of arced horns surrounded each pair of ears, and each snout got two extra ridges. Each mouth now also contained a forked tongue, whose pointed tips hung lazily around opposite fangs, and slowly pulsated in unison.

In fact, the creature's entire body slowly pulsated to the rhythm of an invisible heart; or perhaps, struggled to keep its physical form.

Randall was trembling in fear. He was not about to faint like Kana, but struggled to believe this creature was the same canine who he'd wonderful conversations with; the one he considered his boyfriend. Until he looked at the tails.

There were at least half a dozen, and instead of being black and covered with fur, they were as long as Randall was tall, white, prehensile, smooth and glistening; more like tentacles. And it was that thought that let Randall start seeing the creature before him differently.

He remembered Nightshade called this beast the "sex monster," and that Nightshade sought kinkiness in his boyfriends. He'd said those boyfriends enjoyed the sex immensely once they grew accustomed to it.

That let Randall recognize this form for its features, rather than its appearance. It was submissive gay male fantasies made flesh: tentacle porn, multiple penetration, heavy petting and groping, licking multiple erogenous zones...

This "monster" was horrific only when sprung on someone, like poor Kana. For Randall, it was actually a gift; an offer to give the wolf whatever pleasure he wanted, if he could get over how it looked.

"Wow," was all Randall could get his mouth to say, through the mixture of emotions that paralyzed him.

"Now that you recognize me," asked the left head, "will you lay back down on the bed?"

"Or shall we do this the hard way?" growled the right head, as it licked its chops.

Randall's dick was confused, and his eyes were still in disbelief; but he wanted to enjoy this gift his boyfriend was giving him. So, after a moment's thought, he decided to answer in a way that would encourage his kinks.

"Oh please, mister monster!" he cried, throwing up his hands in an exaggerated fashion as he headed for the door to the hallway, "don't rape me!"

But when he got to it, he found it locked. That sent a genuine chill through him, as the monster slowly stepped over to him, and pulled Randall's hands off the knob -- using one pair of hands on each of Randall's arms.

"I see you've decided," growled the voice to his left. "Very well, then."

"The hard way it is," growled the one to his right. "Don't say I didn't give you a choice."

The arms forcefully brought Randall's hands together behind his back, making Randall clasp them a little above his tail, as if handcuffs were about to be put on him. Despite their absence, it still felt like bondage, and got his dick starting to rise again.

Once Randall was at a disadvantage to pull them apart, the wolf felt two slimy worms wrap their way around his ankles, as the monster gave a suggestive snort, breathing on Randall's head between his ears.

Even as his member emerged further from his sheath, Randall whined, "oh please don't do this!"

"You told me," insisted the left head, "I could have what I wanted."

"And now I intend to take you up on that offer," added the right, "By making you sweat like a pig."

As another pair of arms wrapped around his waist and lifted, the tentacles around his ankles lifted in unison, taking him off the ground entirely. Being in midair momentarily unnerved him -- but only for that moment.

As he expected, Randall was taken over to the bed, and rather suggestively, pushed down onto his stomach. To support his weight, the tentacles made him kneel and spread his legs, and the pairs of hands now brought his arms in front of him, putting him on all fours.

His heart was racing, and being force into the "fucking" position got his dick fully out of its sheath once again. Even more suggestively, a moment later, the belly covered in soft fur leaned on his rump, and the monster pivoted and stretched its body out half-way up Randall's back, as if it were mounting him.

But Randall's fun got a dampener the next time he blinked. All of a sudden, the bed he was kneeling on was surrounded by mirrors, letting him see the creature that had its grip on him.

The wolf gasped, and without thinking, tried to squirm away. But he was held in position by the tentacles, as well as another pair of hands that grabbed his wrists and held them down.

"Gaze at your new top, sub," demanded the left head, looking into Randall's eyes though the mirror.

"The monster who owns you," added the right, trading off again.

"The monster who can keep you here as long as he wants."

"And take whatever he wants."

Randall kept struggling, and tried to looked away. But wherever he looked was another mirror, another angle on the huge body horror on top of him, holding him down. And, he could now see, was starting to wave its tentacles threateningly around his prone body.

Randall closed his eyes, trying to enjoy the feelings and forget about what the creature looked like. "Oh, mister monster," he whined, as much excitement as fear in his voice, "what will you do to me?"

The answer did not come in words. Instead, the tongue on his neck reappeared, this time joined by a second one on his shoulder. And while the tentacles on his ankles tightened, another tentacle started slithering around each calf, combing the fur for sweat.

Randall groaned without really thinking, not entirely sure why this was such a turn-on; and still wondering what else this form of Nightshade would do to him. While he didn't know, thinking about it -- like where else those tentacles might go -- was enough to get his tail up without thinking.

Despite the cooling of the slime and saliva, Randall's heart rate and stress made him feel like he was still sweating; the sweating that Nightshade was presumably referring to. So, he did nothing more than struggle and whine a little for effect, as the tongues continued up over to his arms, across his back, and slowly past his shoulder blades.

Another tentacle started slithering around his chest, absorbing the sweat there as the two from his legs went up and started going over his tail and buttocks, respectively. So close, Randall thought.

"Let's hear some begging," suddenly stated the left head.

"Beg your master for mercy," encouraged the right.

"Or," warned the left voice as a slimy tentacle appeared beside his neck, "this is going down your throat."

"Now let's hear it."

"Please, mister monster," Randall begged, still struggling against the relentless appendages, as his cheeks flushed and he continued to sweat, "let me go."

"Let you go?" asked the right head incredulously.

"Y-yes sir, you're scaring me!" Randall knew, intellectually, this was a game, but his body was really stressed out. Which is what he assumed Nightshade wanted.

"Then you have to sweat more, wolfie," chastised the left head.

"How can we make him do that?" asked the right.

"There is a correct answer, you know," added the left suggestively, looking at Randall again.

This, Randall assumed, was the time when he could have fun.

"H-h-hold me down," Randall stammered, heart skipping as he said the words, "and... fuck me r-r-really hard."

With nothing but a throaty growl, the weight upon him shifted, bearing down on his lower back. For his own gratification, Randall tried to struggle harder in response, but the hands and tentacles, as always, resisted.

Randall then felt a hand grab his already-raised tail, and pull it up higher . That got him panting in anticipation.

Sure enough, a moment later, he suddenly felt something warm and sticky touch his tailhole.

He moaned in pleasure and his whole body shuddered, as it seemed to poke at the pink ring... before consciously trying to spread some of it slime; first onto it, then a little ways into it.

Randall squirmed as his dick throbbed and precum started oozing out onto the bed.

"Are you ready..." murmured the voice is his left ear.

"... for the best plowing of your life?" murmured the voice is his right.

"Yes!" Randall cried out, neediness fully replacing the fear.

And with no other warning, one of the slimy tails started slowly entering his anus.

Randall groaned, as it went deeper. Being much longer than a dick, it just kept slowly slithering him. Its depth soon surpassed any other dick Randall had ever experienced, and he felt a rather sudden cramp.

He groaned in pain, and a small surge of panic went through him. He tried to struggle, to pull away so that it would come out a little bit, but he made no more progress against the creature than before.

"Wolfie doesn't seem to like it," cooed the left head.

"Did your master push it in too deep?" asked the right.

Randall's face seemed to flush all by itself at the questions. He wasn't sure he liked where the tentacle was placed, but his dick felt almost ready to blow, and he didn't want to stop it now.

"No... it's fine..." Randall panted.

"Now then, what's next," murmured the left head in his ear.

"I think it's fuck him hard, right?" asked the right head, as if Nightshade were offering tea.

"Yes," whimpered Randall, scared of what sensations were about to happen, but with greater desire than fear.

The tentacle withdrew a bit, and then as the hips on top of him bucked, it slid forward, like a thrusting male. Randall tried to push back, but it seemed to do nothing; it felt like half his insides were being driven into, which got him to blurt out a cry involuntarily.

Nightshade paused. "More?" asked the left head.

"Yes," gasped Randall weakly.

"Are you sure?" asked the right, the nearest thing to genuine concern Randall had heard from this beast.

"Yes!" he cried.

And with the next thrust, he groaned again, as he felt a bit stretched. But the slime did its job, and kept any of it from hurting too badly, as Nightshade pseudo-humped him.

The slow jackhammering of Randall continued: slow withdraw, fast thrust; slow withdraw, fast thrust.

"You seem to be enjoying this," growled the left head.

Randall's response was to give an extra strong groan when the hips thrust again, dick throbbing and squirting precum all over the bed.

"You wanted this after all, didn't you?" teased the right head.

Randall's breathing was so heavy, he could only give a needy whine -- which got the thrusting, and his synchronized groans, to start picking up speed.

In no time, Randall felt like he was going to cum from just his body being under such incredible tension... but right when he was about to beg for release, he felt a very welcome hand slide underneath him, and start massaging his hot engorged member.

It took a moment for the hand to find the rhythm Randall liked, but once it did, it brought Randall to the edge on the third thrust, and over it on the fourth.

Randall howled, his orgasm mind-shattering as his muscles pumped, and cum spurted out onto the bed, the hand not seeming to mind in the least. The pseudo-dick gave another thrust or two, and the hand slowed down once Randall was clearly more in pain from its actions than pleasure.

Randall was left panting, awash in emotions, eyes still closed. He felt the tentacle begin to withdraw from his guts, but the hands and other tentacles remained where they were.

"Now for my pleasure," growled the head, and the tongues started licking, and more tentacles swarmed across his legs and torso as the tentacle in his anus completed its withdrawal.

Randall didn't feel like he'd been sweating that much, but then again, he hadn't really been paying attention. Nightshade's appendages felt very cool, even if they were slimy, and it made him realize just how hot he was.

The process felt weird, but Randall focused on the two tongues, differently shaped but textured just like the one Nightshade's more attractive form had. They were a reminder of what he was attracted to, and what made him feel comfortable.

The tentacles took their time sliming their way across virtually all of the lower half of Randall's body and his tail. To Nightshade's credit in Randall's mind, however, there was one exception: the pair of tongues collected the sweat from Randall's sticky sheath and balls.

It was this gesture that finally got Randall to ask once again, much more weakly: "are you enjoying yourself?"

One of the tongues stopped to answer, but only for a moment. "I am eating the second course of a feast after a long famine," it answered with a sigh.

"You can have as much as you want," Randall answered affectionately, his afterglow making him both gracious and altruistic despite his muscles starting to tire. "After all, I'm not going anywhere."

There was a long pause before Randall registered the double meaning. The left head, however, spoke first, in Nightshade's original voice.

"Does that mean... you're willing to stay?" it asked, even as the other continued to lick Randall.

"There are some things we'd have to work on -- like the appearing and disappearing thing, that's not cool. But that's always true in a relationship, right?"

"Yes..."

Randall suddenly had a thought occur to him. "So yeah, I'm willing to stay and see how things go... but I do have one condition."

"Name it," offered the head.

"I still want to chase other tails. A mortal's sex drive is relentless, as I hope your other boyfriends showed you, and variety is important."

"As long as you always come back to me," Nightshade answered affectionately, "I honestly don't care what your sex life is like. I only want to help where I can. "

"Then, I think we have the start of a relationship."

Five minutes later, the creature backed off, and the original canine reappeared. Cuddled in each other's arms, they talked until the sun came up.

The End.