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The Perfect Gift

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Winter was in the air and all of downtown had been transformed. The leafless trees had been wrapped with vibrant white Christmas lights. The sky bridges between the different sections of the mall had been covered with wreaths, banners and ornaments. No snow had fallen, but the temperature had dropped enough that icicles hung from the overhangs and the puddles on street corners had frozen solid. The coats were puffy, and the scarves were colorful and Christmas music seemed to leak out from all of the store fronts. It all felt like the perfect contrast to Max, cold air and warm hearts.

The nineteen-year-old moved down the sidewalk, his hands sunk into the front pouch of his red sweatshirt for warmth while his legs depended on friction from his black jeans to produce any heat. A few curls of dark reddish-brown hair hung out from the hood of his sweatshirt, blowing in the breeze while his oak brown eyes surveyed everything on offer in the many windows before him. Some of the shops had phoned it in, merely putting out merchandise in front of red and white backgrounds but others had created winter landscapes, displays, even whole moods.

A smile clung to Max's lips as he wandered down the street. After such a long, hard, dark year, there was something about Christmas that gave him a boost of energy and hope and determination. It had always been his favorite time of year, but this year was so much more special - he finally had someone to share it with, someone to celebrate, someone to love and call his own. He had felt like the luckiest guy on the planet when Marsh had asked to go out on a date and their romance had been a whirlwind ever since. This would be their first Christmas together and Max would get to combine his two favorite things... assuming he could find the perfect gift.

Max's ever-present smile faltered a little as he put into words just what his objective was. As much as he loved Christmas, his track record with getting gifts was more than just unlucky. It was downright terrible. The nineteen-year-old looked in one window at a collection of winter clothing and sports equipment. None of that seemed like Marsh... The next window showed various electronics devices and home entertainment bundles. Max's face scrunched up a bit. None of that seemed particularly romantic...

One by one, Max passed by the window displays, catching snippets of the songs and carols the stores were playing. He had worked around the entire outside perimeter of the mall. The breeze continued to blow, dropping the temperature even further. The other shoppers on the street thinned out as more went inside and others headed home, leaving the nineteen-year-old walking by himself beneath darkening skies. It was still mid-afternoon, but after daylight savings had ended it seemed like the sun set before dinner was even an option.

The vehicles sped by on the street, headlights illuminating car exhaust and a faint fog that was starting to roll in. The light covered trees shone brighter like beacons, guiding Max on his way. As his bones started to shiver from the cold, it was seeming more and more as if his trip had been a futile effort to break a life-long streak of bad luck, but just before he gave up hope, something sparkled in the corner of his warm brown eyes, catching his attention. It was the unmistakable shine of Christmas lights passing through glass - or maybe even crystal.

Max followed the shine to its source, his eyes widening and his jaw dropping just slightly. As many of the other stores had done, this stand-alone shop had filled its window display with tidings of Christmas cheer. There was flocking along the bottom of the window frame to indicate snow, garlands and ornaments artfully draped, and a display stand showing off a variety of gift ideas. The entire window was closed in by a very large Christmas tree inside providing a pine green backdrop and illumination from its many strings of white lights. Those lights had caught in the glass that made up the most intricate, detailed and delicate creations Max had ever seen - a sprig of mistletoe.

Time seemed to stand still as Max stood there, wondering just how such a piece of art could have been crafted. It was beautiful, ornamental and unique. The colors were so rich, backlit by the Christmas trees. The mistletoe had drawn him in, but everything else in the window was exquisite too. One of the shelves held a handcrafted wooden box that showed off at least six different kinds of woods, refined and polished to the point that it looked almost like marble. An antique telescope sat off to the other side, tilted upwards as if trying to see the stars.

Every piece of the window display spoke to Max, although he wasn't sure yet what they were saying. One thing was certain; even if this shop was filled with items too expensive to purchase, it was the kind of place where unique wonders existed, and it was the perfect place to try and come up with ideas for something truly special. Max reached out, took hold of the door handle and opened it wide before pressing on across the threshold and into the shop.

The rich smell of honey and pine swirled around Max as the warm air began to engulf him, chasing away the frigid weariness that had been sinking into his bones. The shop was lit almost entirely by white Christmas lights, both from the tree that dominated the front of the shop and a web of them spread across the unusually high ceiling. Max slowly came to a stop, his head tipping back as he looked upwards. The left wall of the shop was a two-story tall stack of mahogany drawers like some sort of ancient card catalogue or mail system. There was a balcony overlooking the front of the shop and some sort of back area that was dark at the moment. The shadowy outlines hinted at stacks of books and boxes, jars and crates.

What little space was left as a sales floor had been set up with little islands of free-standing displays with random, almost eclectic combinations of items. There were statues and figurines, jewelry and even a jewel encrusted dagger. Everything was unique and individual, and nothing looked as though it came out of a factory. Max's jaw still hung open as he turned around, taking it all in, spinning from the Christmas Tree to the drawers to the balcony to the displays and around again, three times in total - at least until something changed and he saw someone behind the arcane cash register.

Max came to an abrupt stop, his rosy cheeks getting a bit redder as he blushed. A man stood behind the register in a green suit jacket, his long silky blond hair coming down like one long, elegant waterfall at sunset. Viridian eyes peered out from behind narrow framed glasses, looking at the young man that had entered the shop. The shopkeeper examined his street clothes curiously, then his face. It seemed as if the moment lasted forever before the awkwardness grew and Max couldn't quite stand it anymore. He felt as if something was welling up inside of him and he couldn't hold any of it back.

"I'm looking for the perfect gift for my boyfriend, but I don't know what he wants, but I know I want it to be special and I've never seen a place as special as this!" Max blurted. Despite his rather steely and refined exterior, a razor thin smile crossed the shopkeeper's lips.

"That is because there is no place like this one." he said gently, "And if you are looking for the perfect gift, you have come to the right place." he replied, his voice sounding almost like deep music. It flowed with such ease and yet carried weight with it as if maple syrup was a sound. Max felt a little more comfortable and reassured.

"What can you tell me about the mistletoe in the window?" Max asked with a smile. A blond eyebrow arched as the shopkeeper stepped out from behind his register, revealing his pants were made of the same rich green material and his patent leather shoes were perfectly polished.

"You saw mistletoe in the window?" he asked, gliding across the sales floor as he passed Max. The shopkeeper was tall and willowy, moving like the boughs of a tree in a strong wind. He reached out and grew a curtain back, his eyes searching the window display before they settled on the crystal mistletoe.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Max asked. The shopkeeper nodded gently.

"It really is beautiful... Unique, potent, a symbol of love and togetherness, of life coming from another." The words flowed so easily from the shopkeeper's fair lips, his skin looking rather pale in the light of the Christmas tree.

"I knew that mistletoe was romantic, but I didn't know it meant all that." Max said, a bit amazed. The shopkeeper reached up and took the mistletoe down, carrying it back to his counter where he set it down.

"There is a lot of meaning in symbology, and a lot of meaning in gifts. That's why you found yourself here today, isn't it? You didn't want to give something that meant nothing. You wanted to give your boyfriend something that spoke to his heart, to the love you share, to the bond you've forged. You want something uniquely him, something that brings him true joy, right?" the shopkeeper asked. Max nearly bounced in place.

"Exactly, I mean, Marsh changed my whole world, my whole life." Max said.

"Marsh?" the shopkeeper asked curiously, moving behind the counter. He reached into the shadows and drew out an old white book gilded with gold leaf.

"It's short for Marshal, but he doesn't like that. He thought Marsh sounded more intimate." Max said before looking up, "Why?"

"There is power in a name, even magic. What we go by can define us and our fate. And it seems that this Marsh has drawn you in and you sink deeper each and every day?" The shopkeeper asked. Max chuckled.

"If that's sinking, I'm ready to go all in. He's my everything." Max said. The shopkeeper nodded a bit, reaching to slide his glasses back up on his nose.

"To have love that genuine is something rare and precious in and of itself, but I know you seek something truly perfect for your love." he said softly, "I may have just the thing." he said before he left the register once more and grabbed a rolling ladder that had been slid to its extreme position in the shadows. As he slid it down along the wall of shelves, Max looked back at the counter uncertainly.

"I thought the mistletoe would be my gift?" he asked. The shopkeeper had locked the ladder in place and climbed up a few feet before he started sliding open the drawers, looking inside.

"No, that item is not for Marsh... It is for someone with an M name though..." he said without turning back. Max hesitated for a long moment.

"M... My name is Maximus, but I go by Max." he said softly.

"A complex and elegant name hidden in plain sight. You don't say..." The shopkeeper said before he reached into the shelf and withdrew something from inside. As he moved, his long blond hair slipped back, revealing the pointed tip of an ear that did not look quite human. As the shopkeeper climbed down, he kept his hand closed around something round, about the size of a plum. Whatever it was it was emitting light, casting a warm ivory glow from the gaps between his fingers. The shopkeeper walked back behind the counter; one hand closed around the object while he used the other to look around for something.

"You said... that names... had power?" Max asked gently, looking at the clerk's pointed ear, feeling the curiosity bubbling up inside of him.

"I did..." The keeper said, still searching for something.

"And you never told me your name." Max replied. The shopkeeper's movements slowed for a moment.

"You may call me Thane." he replied after a moment, reaching up to brush his free hand through his hair, obscuring his pointed ear once more. Max bit his bottom lip, uncertain on exactly how to continue. The clerk finally reached into the darkness before he snatched a small box and quickly deposited the glowing object inside of it before enclosing it with a lid. The box seemed old but well made, thicker than cardstock and covered with something almost like wallpaper. It wasn't quite enough to stand up as a gift box on its own, but it would certainly keep whatever it was safe in the meantime.

"What is it?" Max asked. Thane smiled a little mercilessly.

"The perfect gift." he replied simply. Max looked a little more strained at that.

"I don't even know what it is... or how much it costs." he added. While it was clear that Thane did enjoy being mysterious, he seemed to relent a little at that.

"The mistletoe will be fifty dollars. As for the other gift, you may take it home and decide how much it is worth to you. If it is not the perfect gift for Marsh, you will not owe me anything. If it is, you simply will return one day and pay me what you feel is fair." Thane explained. Max stood there, a little stunned. He had seen glass art a fraction as complex as the mistletoe sell for hundreds of dollars at different art galleries. Fifty dollars was a steel, even if the other box only contained some sort of petrified jawbreaker.

"It's a deal." Max said, reaching into his pocket to fish out his wallet. Thane gave a nod at that and grabbed the neat packing materials he had to ensure the mistletoe would survive the trip home without the chance of any ill fate coming to it.

****

Condensation rimmed the window of Max's room, shimmering from the vintage big bulb lights outside broadcasting a rainbow of colors brightly enough to be seen by airplanes approaching the local airport. The lamps had even been upgraded with silk scarves to give the room a reddish-gold hue while Max devoted himself to the most important craft pursuit of the year. His bed had been pushed back, his laundry had been scooped into the hamper and he'd even taken his spare dishes down to the kitchen in order to clear as much space as possible. Red and silver foil paper stood at the ready, flanked by silver ribbon, clear tape and a bag full of bows.

Max knelt on the carpet, looking at the small pile of treasures he had accumulated. There were trinkets and baubles that he hoped his family would like, but the truth of the matter was that he couldn't help but focus on the gift from Thane's shop, the so-called perfect gift... He couldn't stop thinking about it. He'd been buzzing the whole way home, his legs bouncing. He tried to focus on getting everything ready, but in the end, he just couldn't help it. If he was going to give a gift to his boyfriend, he had to know what it was... How could some stranger know exactly what one of the most interesting, enigmatic people in the world would want?

The nineteen-year-old reached down and carefully lifted the paper stock lid off of the fragile box. As it came off, pearlescent white light spilled out. Max reached his fingers into the box, finding a mostly smooth but faintly bumpy surface. As he withdrew the contents, his eyes widened once more. He turned his hand, letting the sphere roll into the palm. Resting there, perched in the seat of his hand was what appeared to be a very detailed moon. It had faint surface topography with craters and plains. It had a bit of heft to it like it was solid glass, but it was emitting the most beautiful creamy milky white light that Max had ever seen in his life.

There was no battery slot, no seam, no imperfection to indicate how it was manufactured, let alone how it was glowing. Max gazed into the heart of the moon in his hand, unable to look away. His breathing deepened; his heart rate accelerated. With each rise and fall of his chest, he felt warmer, hotter, then almost burning. Beads of sweat began to cross his brow, then his chest, then his pits. He was hot and bothered, but by what? It was just a piece of art, an ornament, a gift...

The longer Max watched, the harder it was to look away. His eyes watered, the brown irises lightening shade by shade until they shifted to an intense amber yellow. The hot breath passing in and out from his lips began to make a noise as it was blasted over sharpening tips. The circulation pumping through the redhead's body was making his ears tingle, his fingertips throb and even his toes twitch. The flesh was swelling a bit where it had grasped the moon, pushing out at his fingertips and the base of his palm.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Max could tell something was wrong. He tried to return the moon to the box, even to drop it, but he couldn't. The commands simply didn't make it down his arm. If anything, his hand seemed to be doing the opposite. His fingers closed around the moon, clutching it tighter. Max watched as his fingernails darkened, at first as if a shadow had spread across them but then turning inky black. His nails thickened noticeably before the edges dug deeper and deeper into his fingers. Having taken root, the nails began pushing out longer, stretching out into points before curving, completing the menacing grasp he had on the object.

Max sprung to his feet, wobbling a bit, still unable to let go of the moon. He reached out with his other hand, but it had changed as well. The same sharp, wicked claws extended from his fingertips, calloused pads swelling out of his fingertips and palm. Max grunted and took a step toward his door, but once more something caught the corner of his eye, a reflection that wasn't quite right. Max cautiously approached the window, slowing, panting, sweating as he saw just what else had changed. He reached up his free clawed hand to brush back the curls of his dark hair, revealing that he was now the proud owner of pointed ears, though they weren't like Thane's. They weren't elegant and supple; they weren't slight and exotic... They were tall, they were rough, they were thick, and they were growing fur!

"Fuck me..." He whispered, turning his head, reaching up to brush the back of his ear as it pushed up taller and wider. Even the words leaving his mouth felt wrong. Max shook his head, not certain what to do. His parents weren't home, at least not yet... He pushed out of his room and barreled into the bathroom, moving in front of the mirror. Sure enough, the mirror confirmed the strange reflection the window had hinted at. Max opened his mouth and revealed his sharp teeth, watching as they grew centimeter by centimeter, pushing out into imposing fangs. It was hard to close his mouth entirely now that they were all so big.

What had started as a tingle was becoming more of an itch, spreading across Max's chest. He reached up to pull his collar out but instead the claws tore through it, splitting it open, revealing that his chest was a bit redder and a bit hairier than before. Having already destroyed the t-shirt, Max threw caution to the wind and tore it the rest of the way open. As the fabric split open, he was met with the most defined set of pecs and abs he had ever seen in his life. There was some actual thickness to them, some actual shape, and a dusting of reddish-brown hair was growing out across them before trickling down his stomach.

"I'm hot..." Max whispered to himself in disbelief. His hair was sweaty, his pits had hair now when they hadn't before, he had fangs and claws and pointed ears and... yellow eyes... Max realized the last bit and couldn't look away from them either. It was only then that he realized what was happening. The nineteen-year-old lifted the moon back up in his hand and held it there, looking at it, into it, through it... and somewhere inside he could feel it looking back, peering into him and his soul, calling out to him, howling... It was howling for him to join it, to become a child of the moon, to become the werewolf he was meant to be.

Maximus tipped his head back and opened his fang filled mouth as he erupted with an animalistic howl. Fur bristled from his elbows and the hair on his chest pushed out into a thick carpet. His cheeks sprouted with thick plumes of dark rusty colored fur that crept down to his jaw as his nose darkened, nostrils flaring. Bones popped and ligaments shifted as his brow bone pushed out, his nose became more animalistic and his mouth rounded out over his plus sized teeth.

The changes to Max's chest had apparently only been a prelude. His boyish body had become fit, but as he howled it seemed that the body responded to the call of the wild by developing faster and further than before. His pecs filled out, his abs hardened, and then his spine started to lengthen. His belly button slid up and away from the waistband of his pants, leaving an ever-widening trail of reddish fur below it. The meaty curve of plump ass cheeks slid out of his pants, though the small of his back nearly doubled in length.

After what seemed like an eternity, Max's howl finally died away as the werewolf lowered his head, panting and huffing with power and lust, feeling his blood burning in his veins. His arms creaked and groaned as they stretched out longer. The dark dusting of hair spread across his shoulders and down his back, covering his arms. It wasn't quite fur, but Max had gotten fuzzier than most humans.

With all of the growth, Max's pants looked almost like capris. His hairy ankles were exposed and so was his thick, luxurious, furry bush. The two points kept moving away from one another until, at least, the clothing couldn't take it. Feeling the uncomfortable pinching between his legs, Max growled and slashed at the pants with his claws. The waistband snapped and Max dispatched them with an unrelenting slash. As they fell away, Max was met with yet another rather impressive Christmas package; his own.

As his body had gotten progressively hairier, it only served to bring the total focus to the redhead's swollen, achingly hard cock. It extended from his groin like a monolith, mysterious and bigger than he'd ever imagined. It wobbled there, veins pulsing, darkened by the sheer volume of blood that had pumped into it. As Max watched, it was still growing longer. The loose flesh that usually hugged the base of the head was pulled taut, the length glistening. The werewolf ran his tongue over all his sharp teeth before he reached down, wrapping his left hand around his cock, letting the calloused paw pads brush the sensitive meat.

Back and forth, gentle at first, but then faster. The werewolf picked up pace quickly, grunting and growling. With no lube of any kind, the heat and friction built fast, bringing with it an almost stinging sort of pleasure, but Max couldn't stop. He worked it base to tip over and over again, grunting as he felt his cock swelling and soon after his balls as well. Soft, velvet red fur sprouted across his sack as the flesh got tighter and tighter, wrapped around the growing balls within until they were almost the size of Christmas tree ornaments.

Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through Max's body, causing his grip to tighten and his feet to wriggle. His toes felt cramped, even caught. Each movement of the toes felt like dragging a stick through mud, but the more he wiggled them the easier it became. The reason became obvious as the front of his shoes splayed out as thick, dark claws punctured and sliced through, obliterating the tips. Without any barrier, his feet spilled forward, growing longer and longer as they changed to something very inhuman.

It was all instinct and pleasure. It coursed through Max's body like a drug. His amber eyes glowed with drive, his body radiated heat and the air smelled of the spice and musk of a virile beast... but he wanted more, he knew there was more. Max lifted his right hand, still clutching the lunar orb, unable to let go... but he didn't want to let go anymore. He brought it close to his face, parted his lips and let his fat, long tongue slip out, slurping across the surface of the glowing sphere. The results were instantaneous.

The increase to Maximus' mass had been steady, but with direct contact it seemed to accelerate. His chest and shoulders had broadened much faster than his waist, but his cock and ass had grown too, giving him an oddly hourglass shape. His head almost seemed too small sat atop such broad, powerful shoulders. His biceps and triceps expanded, his thighs thickened, and his shoes completely tore apart as his feet grew out in every direction to give him the sort of foundation he needed.

Max slathered the lunar orb with his wolf tongue, lapping at it greedily, accelerating the changes ripping through his body. His pert, muscled, full ass cheeks began to grow larger and larger, perfect in their round slopes, nearly hypnotic moons in their own right. As they filled out, they pulled apart, revealing a quivering, throbbing needy ring of flesh and a swelling, protruding growth of bone and ligament. Fur bristled out of the swelling tube as it began to lengthen. New bones formed, pushing the others outward, latched and latticed as they developed into an actual tail.

The pleasure was indescribable, but it had been swirled with a potent mix of pain as well. Max's bones had grown, his muscles had formed, his skin had stretched, and his cock nearly felt like it was on fire. His wolf hand had accosted it as it pushed out longer and fatter, growing in every dimension. The skin had been so tight, but Max felt a different kind of change, something he couldn't explain. If there had been any rational thought, he might have let go of his member, but he was no longer a rational beast.

It was a strange sensation at first, as if his entire cock had gotten wet? But that wasn't it, it wasn't moisture, it was... fur... Max lowered his head down, his amber eyes looking at his cock, watching as soft white fur sprouted from the skin around his cock, and what had been tight as a drum suddenly became loose. He stumbled, nearly falling, but inhaled sharply through his wolfen nose as he realized the outer layers of his cock, including what had been his foreskin had separated to become its own protective layer, a sheath for his true cock inside...

The newly minted sheath got thicker and tougher, swelling outward as the fur filled in, engulfing his cock. It swept up over the round head of his shaft before expelling a few squirts of pre like some sort of lycan lube. Max wobbled on his huge werewolf feet as his body continued to change, feeling his new tail brushing against the back of his knees, then his ankles. The heat rose, climbing up through his exaggerated torso before pooling in his skull.

A familiar ache transitioned from his joints and bones to his skull, making it throb and tingle. More fur burst from his forehead, his nose, and his chin, filling in what had already grown out before. His jaw creaked as it pushed forward, finally making room for his overgrown fangs. His skull moved to match, filling out as his wolfen nose had room to spread properly. The human visage in the mirror melted away, replaced with the emerging wolf as his muzzle formed and his ears migrated to the top of his head.

If it had been a recipe of pain and pleasure, it seemed the cook was changing the proportions. The pain ebbed away until there was nothing but bliss. Max stood in his bathroom, a seven-foot tall rusty red werewolf. His sheath began to retract, revealing that the fat, long human member had been replaced with a much more wicked, pre-soaked, pointed and tapered canine cock. Max tipped his head back again and howled as he came, his ornament sized balls producing jet after jet of tainted seed. The first few squirts looked human, pearly and slick, but the seed began to shift to more of a yellow hue, stickier and slimier. Max didn't care. This was who he was - no, what he was now...

After what felt like a half hour, Max finally stopped cumming. He stood there, huffing, his furry chest rising and falling in rapid succession. The werewolf looked down at his spent cock retreating into his fluffy sheath, then to his other hand clutching a glass orb with just a sliver of light on one side. Max tilted his head with canine curiosity before he tried to open the fingers of his right paw and, at last, succeeded. Considering it all for a moment, the werewolf ducked under the bathroom door frame and returned to his room, kneeling down on the carpet, moving to return the lunar orb to its box.

Just as Max was about to drop the ball into the case, he paused, seeing something else inside. The werewolf carefully reached in with his claws, pulling a strip of leather out slowly, eyes widening with glee as he saw just what it was. The elf had been right, it really was the perfect gift for Marsh. In that instant, Max knew he'd have to spend the next year figuring out how to pay the elf what the gift was truly worth. Max set the moon on the carpet as he pulled the strap up to his neck and carefully secured his new collar in place. There was a thick metal ring on the back but on the front was a metal dog tag shaped like a present, emblazoned with his name on it, MAX.

****

It had become very apparent to Marsh that a late-night jog on a bitingly cold winter evening might not have been the best idea, even if it had been beautiful. After a week-long tease, it had finally started to snow. The flakes had collected on the tree branches before dusting the ground and, eventually, sticking to the roads. The lights glittered in the cold night and it was all breathtaking. Marsh just wished that Max had been there to enjoy it with him. His breath turned to fog as he tried to unlock the door to his duplex, fumbling a little before getting the door open.

In an effort to trap what little warm air existed inside the old duplex, Marsh slipped in quickly and shut the door behind him before reaching to turn up the thermostat. His finger hesitated, realizing that the heat had already been turned up. Marsh's pierced eyebrow quirked a little. He could have sworn he turned it down in an effort to conserve energy. Marsh shook his head, wondering if he was getting old as he turned and moved further into his domicile, realizing that more than just the temperature was off...

Sitting in the middle of the dining room table was a plate of fresh baked sugar cookies cut into little packages and Christmas trees and stars. A grin spread across Marsh's full lips as he beheld the sight, knowing only one other person (aside from his landlord) had a key to his home, and he knew of the two that only Max would have made cookies. Marsh took a breath and reached up to run a hand over his wavy blond hair, adjusted his glasses so they were square on his nose, and he started moving toward the bedroom.

Sure enough, as he approached, the door was cracked. Marsh reached out with his ring covered fingers to ease the door open wider. While the bedroom was dark, the gauzy curtains caught the streetlight from outside and glowed gently, casting a hazy bluish white glimmer into the room. Marsh's bed was rumpled and messy, no doubt because Max had made himself at home there. Marsh grinned a bit more.

"Merry Christmas?" he called out hopefully. Two eyes opened from the darkness, familiar and alien at the same time, glimmering an intense gold hue. Marsh gasped, his hand flying to the light switch, snapping it on. What he saw froze him in place, his brain trying to catch up. A creature knelt on his bed, full tail wagging, covered in fur... and muscles... and claws... and yet Marsh recognized him, he could feel the connection, the chemistry, the bond. "Max?!" he gasped. A fang filled muzzle curved into a wolfen grin.

"Merry Christmas Marsh, I wanted to get you the perfect present. I had no idea you were into werewolves..." Max said, breathing in the scent of his lover. Marsh stood there, heart racing, cheeks burning as the blush spread across them.

"I-I-I." he stammered. The rest of his thought was that he had never told anyone, that it was a latent secret buried deep in his soul and even deeper on his computer. Marsh stepped closer, trying to figure out if this was some elaborate prank, but there were no prosthetics that could have been that convincing. The claws, maybe, but not the muzzle, not the nose, not the cock... and what a cock it was, throbbing and glistening with a dewdrop of pre rolling down the pointed, tapered tip. "H-How is this possible?" he asked finally, reaching out. Max closed his eyes and leaned into that familiar hand, letting the ringed fingers brush his furry cheek.

"I found this amazing shop full of one-of-a-kind things, and I asked for the perfect gift for my boyfriend. He asked a few questions and gave me something. When I went to wrap it, I turned into this... This is what you wanted, right?" he asked.

"Max..." Marsh whispered, sitting down on the end of the bed, realizing that he was very much shorter than his boyfriend now. He looked at him in close detail for a moment, almost transfixed before he forced his mind back to the question at hand.

"The only gift I needed this Christmas was you, but this is... amazing. This is more than just a gift. This is a fantasy, a dream. I never thought there'd be a place for this in real life. I thought it was just movies and stories and imagination." he whispered, "How does it feel?"

"It feels amazing, it feels hot... And I'm glad I'm what you wanted. Now you don't have to keep it to yourself, you can share it with me." Max said, reaching around to grab the leash attached to his collar, offering it to Marsh. Marsh blushed even harder, a thick bulge forming in his jogging pants.

"Oh my god..." He whispered, taking the leash, wrapping it around his hand before he gave it a gentle tug, pulling Max closer so he could lean in and place a kiss on his fuzzy muzzle beneath his dark, wet nose. He pulled back, shaking his head, "You're so big, so beautiful."

"And I'm so horny... I have been hard since I transformed, and that isn't the worst part. My hole hurts." Max whined.

"Hurts?!" Marsh asked, looking concerned. Max's canine face scrunched up.

"Maybe hurts is the wrong word. It aches? It's like..." Max's ears flattened against his head, "It's like it's hungry... Like it needs to be filled." he whispered. Marsh grinned more at that, all but batting his green eyes, reaching out to run a hand down Max's furry stomach.

"If that's what it needs, I'd never want to keep you from something you need." Marsh whispered, grinning more and more, "I can't believe that you did this for me... This is so amazing. You're so amazing. You always were, but this... It really is the perfect gift."

The words were enough to spur Max into action. The werewolf climbed over onto Marsh's lap, bracing his knees on either side of his hips, leaning in until they were pressing groin to groin and only separated by thin layers of fabric. Max leaned in, nuzzling his lover's neck. He inhaled his scent, filling his lungs with it before he began to lick and then nibble. Marsh moaned, reaching up, grabbing onto his boyfriend's wolfy head with one hand while the other reached down, feverishly trying to tug down his jogging pants and his underwear. Max wasn't making it any easier, grinding and gyrating against him, his tail wagging behind him.

Marsh's heart was beating so fast, his brain swimming in endorphins. Both parts of his life were coming together in one amazing moment. Years of pent-up yearning for the supernatural, years of having to hide his arousal when watching werewolf movies, years of feeling an acute connection to the stranger side of life, and all of that was pouring forth from his boyfriend... Max had been the sweetest, kindest, most amazing man he'd ever met. His love had been enough all on its own, enough that Marsh would have been content enough to keep his secret, but now he didn't have to. Max was the embodiment of everything he wanted, everything he needed, and they could be fully and truly honest and open.

Max growled happily, sending shivers through Marsh's body. The werewolf slid up just a bit, pressing his canine cock to Marsh's shirt, staining it with pre. The movement made just enough room that Marsh pulled down his jogging shorts and his underwear, reaching to fish out his already achingly, painfully hard member. He held it upright, guiding it between Max's unusually plump, fat, juicy ass cheeks until they pressed against that puffy, hungry ring of flesh. The humanity in Max's eyes faded a little, replaced with little more than animal instinct before he pushed himself down, impaling himself on his boyfriend's cock.

"YES!" Marsh howled, throwing his head back. Max wriggled down tighter and lower before he slid up just a little, only to delve deeper the second time. Up and down, deeper and deeper, Max was riding his boyfriend with more dedication than he ever had before. His posture slowly shifted until both paws were resting on the blonde's shoulders, his knees were splayed wide on either side as he rose up and down like some sort of carousel animal. The werewolf's eyes were squeezed tight, but Marsh's were tighter.

The human buried his face in-between Max's thick pecs, sliding back and forth and all around until his glasses toppled off, clattering to the bed, leaving his vision blurry. He didn't care. He didn't need to see, although it would have been nice. He just wanted to be with Max, in Max, to connect to him on all levels. He opened his mouth, his lips finding their way to his plump, pert nipples. His ringed fingers slid up and down Max's sides, getting a feel for his proportions, realizing that whatever had changed him into a werewolf had gone to great efforts to get his type just right... Max wasn't just any werewolf, he had taken on the body of a himbo, exaggerating his features for maximum pleasure. Marsh wasn't complaining.

The furry beast rose and fell like the lapping waves of the ocean under the lunar pull, clenching his ass muscles around his boyfriend's rod. Marsh arched his back, panting and moaning and writhing, feeling that imposing grip of the werewolf's paws on his shoulders, those claws tracing across his back, slowly slicing through his jogging shirt. Marsh was in heaven, but he wanted to make sure Max was too. After all, he had done all of this for him.

Marsh slid down just a little before angling his hips, trying to increase the friction and change his trajectory. As he thrust in this time, Max's chest filled with air before he threw his head back and let out a deep howl of pleasure. Marsh's cock seemed to connect the dots between every sensitive spot inside of him before ultimately striking his prostate. Marsh hit it time and time again, grinning as he heard Max getting sloppier and messier and hornier. The werewolf's claws tightened on Marsh's shoulders, the throbbing heat of the cock on his chest got hotter, and then Marsh realized just how big and how close it was.

Despite his blurry vision, Marsh's green eyes slipped open, peering down at the slick, sloppy pointed head of Max's werewolf meat. Marsh took in half a breath, letting it flutter in his lungs like a swarm of butterflies before he lowered his head down. Marsh's plump, full lips parted over the pointed head of his boyfriend's cock as he got a full mouth full of meat. Max howled once more, his movements rougher and more ragged by the second. It was hard to stay on tempo and in rhythm.

Max's mind had been reduced to little more than soggy meat as he bounced between Marsh's hard cock and his soft mouth, filling and being filled in rapid succession. The heat, the body, the love, the romance - every part of it left him feeling fulfilled and content. He hadn't just found a boyfriend or a lover, he'd found a mate. His gift had been perfect, but if there was one aspect of the holidays that was important, it was to share it. Max felt the heat building up from his plump furry balls. He felt the golden light spilling out from his groin and brain at the same time until his cock erupted with wolf cum, but that wasn't enough. He had to share everything.

In one blinding moment, Max came down, moving his paw out of the way as his muzzle bit into Marsh's shoulder. Marsh went to cry out but got a mouth full of wolf cum at the same time, his own orgasm swelling up and allowing his human seed to empty into Max's lycan ass. It was a snowstorm of pain and pleasure, of heat and blood and cum and love and lust. Everything was spinning for Marsh, his brain unable to keep up. Blood was everywhere it wasn't supposed to be, and it was as if the rest of him was left to run off of nothing but the afterglow.

Despite reaching climax, despite the blinding light of orgasm, neither had stopped moving. Max kept bouncing between cock and mouth, and even with an injury, Marsh had continued to suckle on the cock that filled his cheeks. His mouth was full of so much spunk and the flavor was so rich with salt and musk that he doubted he'd ever taste anything else again, but if that was his fate, it wasn't a bad fate.

The pain slowly ebbed away from his shoulder, replaced with a warm tingling that crept outward through his body. At first it was like waking up a sleeping limb, but as it grew it felt more like being cuddled up under a warm blanket in front of a fireplace on a winter's night. The heat grew, and soon Marsh was growing as well. The first symptom came as Max's cock got harder and harder to keep in his mouth. At first Marsh thought Max was pulling back, but it turned out his pecs and abs were getting thicker, making it harder to reach his destination. The second symptom came as Marsh realized that he could see Max in the dark without the aid of his glasses.

"I'm going to love this..." Max whispered before he groaned, feeling muscles spasm and pulse, tensing and relaxing, rippling across his body. Cartilage popped, bones swelled, flesh tightened. The claw holes in his shirt made it easy for the fabric to start tearing out as his shoulders broadened and his back lengthened. Marsh fell back onto his bed, panting and sweating, writhing, gnashing his teeth as they grew into fangs. He snarled and growled, his ears pushing into points as his nose darkened.

"Fuck... Marsh, you're so hot! You're amazing! Oh baby!" Max panted and whined, bouncing on his boyfriend's cock, feeling it change inside of his ass. More and more blood flowed into the erection, coaxing it to swell longer and thicker. Max's muscles helped to massage it and shape it, redefining its contours like a sculptor with clay. Marsh groaned, his fingers digging into his bed as his fingernails stretched out, thickening and curving as they took on sharp enough points to slide through the sheets and penetrate into the mattress.

Growls and grunts escaped Marsh's lips as they distended around a mouth too full of fangs. A downy white fuzz crossed his cheeks, his chin, his throat and his neck. The hair ringing his cock became snow white and soon his bloating balls were covered with fur. One jogging shoe popped off, then the other was he rolled his ankles around, feeling his feet grow longer and thicker. A clawed hand swept up, grabbing onto Max's hip with one paw, the other reaching to wrap around his cock.

Max moaned louder, picking up the pace. He rode his lover's cock, he thrust into his hand, he watched his stubble become fur, his wavy blond hair turning white. Even his pointed ears were starting to move, slipping up the sides of his scalp, heading toward the top of his head. As Marsh rolled and shifted, his body redefined itself. His hips tilted once again as his swelling ass cheeks made room for the lengthening tail creeping down toward his knees. Max was committed to riding this out, but it seemed his over eager libido didn't want to wait.

Marsh felt his boyfriend's cock spasm in his hand a split second before rope after rope of werewolf cum sprayed out. The fertile volley splattered up his stomach, across his chest, splashed his face and soaked his mane of white hair before ultimately coating the mirror mounted on the wall behind his bed. Marsh felt as if he'd been baptized into lycanthropy, marked by his boyfriend and his lover. He couldn't have been happier.

The bed groaned and whined, lurching around with the power of their thrusts. The bolts were being tested; the springs pushed to their limit. Bits of cloth and stuffing were everywhere, and the room was soaked with the aroma of two powerful werewolves. Marsh's face popped and snapped as bones pushed outward. His mouth extended, his nose realigned, even his eye sockets adapted to fit his eyes as the blue drained out of the green in his irises, leaving only yellow. His human features were gone, replaced with the muzzle of a wolf. Marsh's canine ears perked up as he heard something new, something magical, something wonderful - Max's heartbeat.

In that moment, Marsh couldn't hold back. He came and he came hard, emptying every last drop he had to give. Max howled again, sinking himself down around Marsh's cock, feeling it still grow and change, anchoring itself inside of him, connecting them together. As the two embraced and felt the magic of their second afterglow, the darkness from the room suddenly vanished. The lonely streetlight outside was no longer so alone. Christmas lights that had been strung up over the duplex had woken up from their ancient slumber, casting their warmth through the gauzy curtains, celebrating the season of love and togetherness that Marsh and Max so shared.

The two met eyes, speaking volumes without saying a word. Max tilted his head as he leaned forward, Marsh leaning up to meet him. Their muzzles met like puzzle pieces, parted enough to allow their tongues to meet but their lips providing a seal. The kiss was magic, a symbol of their love and their connection. Two hearts beat as one, two bodies coursing with power and vitality and heat. There were no secrets, nor any obstacles. Nothing could stand in the way of their true love in this or any other season.

****

The days left before Christmas seemed to be slipping away, but the strange shop of unique treasures had been offering salvation to those looking for something special. The old door swung open as the last customer of the evening stepped back out into the snow, carrying a birch branch in one hand and a red velvet sack slung over his shoulder. As the young man walked away, splotches of grey began spreading across his skin, complimenting the small black horns emerging from his forehead. The window of the shop had changed again, showing a very different set of objects compared to what had been present mere moments before. The main lights inside snapped off, leaving only the Christmas lights on the tree to illuminate it before, at least, Thane excused himself.

The tall, willowy man stepped out and pulled the door shut behind him, locking up the four locks that secured the door. He was bundled up in a thick green coat and slacks, though his pointed dress shoes still looked far too nice to be sloshing around in the slush. The elfin man tugged his green scarf a bit tighter around his neck before he turned, but he did not take a step. He stood still, his pointed ears quirking.

"I did not expect you back so soon, Maximus." Thane said before he turned. Despite night falling, the moon was bright enough to backlight the two figures standing at the end of the block. They were bundled up as best they could, but their body shape didn't look quite right or quite human. The night brought out the beast in Max and Marsh. Even with hats and coats, they were out of place. No gloves could cover their claws. Despite their strangeness, it seemed that the city was full of more strange things than Max had ever noticed before. It was like another world had existed just beyond his eyes.

"At first I had no idea how I'd repay you for this... I thought I'd spend a lifetime figuring it out, but then I stumbled on the right idea." Max explained as the two advanced, Max in the lead.

"He literally stumbled across it. We were running in the woods, trying to let off a little steam, and he went down like a newborn puppy." Marsh said, resting a clawed paw on Max's chest, looking at his fuzzy muzzle with love.

"I thought it was a rock or something, but I turned around cause I was pissed off - werewolf hormones." Max said, reaching into the pouch of his stretched-out sweatshirt before he withdrew what appeared to be a black stone skull with a set of large curved horns and then a smaller set of spikes closer to the center. Max looked up at the elf hopefully, "I've never seen anything like it, but it just sort of showed up...."

"It is funny how opportunities just seem to spring up." Thane said, though there was a certain lack of mirth to his voice that hinted that it was not surprising at all. If anything, it happened like clockwork.

"Since you sell unique things, I thought, maybe this could be my payment? I don't know if it's valuable enough..." Max said sheepishly. The elf reached up to adjust his glasses, looking at the skull for a moment before he paused, looking over at Marsh appraisingly before finally looking back at the skull.

"It's ancient, pre-Babylonian I think." Thane murmured, "It should be sufficient, assuming that the terms of our original deal were correct. Tell me, Marshall, was this the perfect gift?" Thane asked. Marshall nodded eagerly, his tail wagging behind him.

"You have no idea. It's so liberating to just be myself, who I always imagined myself to be, and to be able to share that with Max! And he's so cute in his leash! It was perfect!" Marsh said. A rare smile crossed the elf's lips for a short moment before he nodded.

"Then the payment is accepted, and our contract is fulfilled." The elf said with a bow of his head, "Now, go enjoy your Christmas and each other." Thane said, moving back to the old door to start unlocking it again. He made it through two locks when Max took a step closer.

"Are you sure you don't want to join us? I mean, I don't know doing what exactly, but... You shouldn't be alone this time of year." Max offered. The elf slowly lifted his head before he turned back and looked over his shoulder curiously at the red werewolf. He was so still it was almost as if time had frozen, giving Max a bit of a start when Thane finally did move again.

"I may take you up on that before this year is complete. I would enjoy it, but for now I have to catalogue your rare find. How about New Year's Eve? We could meet here and then go out for... what is popular these days? Is it mead?" Thane asked. Marsh's wolf nose wrinkled up a bit at that.

"We'll find something for sure. New year's it is." he said before he bowed his head. Thane returned the kindness, watching the werewolves move off in the moonlight until he finished unlocking the shop and stepped back in.

The interior seemed cozy enough with the rainbow of Christmas lights casting across the warm wood tones of the floor, creating a sort of ethereal shimmer. Thane moved to the far end of the shop and grabbed the ladder, pulling it along its track about a third of the way down before he climbed back up, opening the drawer that had held Krampus' sack. He slowly lowered the demon skull into the slot and the card on the drawer shifted, showing faint inscriptions in an ancient and forgotten language. With that done, Thane slid the drawer shut and climbed back down.

The elf made it halfway to the door when he realized something was different. Once more he sensed a presence where none had been expected. Thane turned, his eyes adjusting to a silhouette slumped at the base of the Christmas tree, naked. Thane swished his hand through the air, summoning light to spill out from the web of white Christmas Lights spread across the ceiling of the shop. As the light came up, the unexpected became clear.

A long, luxurious scaled tail was in a loose, messy coil. The outer edges were a peachy-gold color like a perfect spring sunset, but the underside was a pale lavender like the following dawn. The purple led up and up before tapering outward across a soft stomach and modest, scarred pecs. Slender lavender arms were speckled with violet freckles and adorned with indigo tattoos. A lean, handsome face leaned against the cushion of an antique chaise longue, topped with an unruly mane of feathered blue hair.

"Nadeyo..." Thane whispered, tears appearing in the corner of his eyes. The elf nearly shook, his breathing shallow before he lunged forward, dropping to his news, wrapping his arms around the bare shoulders of the naga. He pulled him tight, burying his face in the crook of his neck, kissing the skin and inhaling the smell before moving up to nuzzle his ear. A hand reached up, caressing the blond hair away from the elf's ear before caressing the lobe.

"Thanien, why are you so worked up?" the naga whispered, his voice weak. Thane swallowed gently, trying to get some composure, his tears falling on the naga's shoulder.

"I just... received the most perfect gift I could have ever imagined, to have you back in my arms after so long." The elf whispered. Brilliant peach-colored eyes opened, containing a spark of life far more potent than the naga seemed to be at the moment, though his strength was swiftly returning.

"So, it worked out after all... The deal you made?" Nadeyo asked. Thane grinned, more tears rolling down his cheek.

"The price was worth it... and I have just what I wanted." he whispered before he leaned in and kissed the lips of the person he had been mourning for so many centuries. The Christmas lights continued to shimmer, casting their multicolored glow across them both even as they shone through the shop window as a beacon to all of those weary travelers moving through the cold night beyond.