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After arriving in Landis, Zeke was surprised to find how quickly his life had returned to something approaching normality. His brother Andy had told him nothing of the werewolf community before his arrival, and Zeke was convinced that he'd be spending the next few months living in a hut in a forest.

Instead, Landis was a modern, sprawling town located near the border of Wales, built under the guise of a gated community for security company workers. As far as he'd been able to gather from his chats with the townspeople, the company in question was either run by (or at least sympathetic towards) the werewolves, and its close ties to the government allowed them the muscle to keep the public and the media out.

Of course, as normal as the town seemed during the day, at night it belonged to the wolves. Zeke had never expected to see such a wide variety of werewolves, all so well accepted by the community to which they belonged. It was as though all the rules were relaxed when night fell - the wolves were hedonistic by nature and it seemed like their culture had adapted to moderate, rather than ban, this behaviour. It wasn't uncommon to catch people having sex in public, and even the odd fight was tolerated as long as nobody was seriously hurt. Any violence usually ended amicably as both parties overcame the rush of adrenaline and hormones their canine forms were prone to.

Zeke had discovered this on his second day in the village, after deciding to take a post-transformation walk around town to help familiarise himself with his surroundings. He left the house nude - though some wolves chose to wore baggy clothes that would remain intact after a transformation, most opted not to bother for the sake of convenience. As awkward as it felt taking that first step outside without any clothes, it also felt liberating to feel the cold night air against his fur. It passed midnight, and it seemed like he had most of the town to himself until he passed another wolf sat on a bench outside the butcher.

The wolf's thick black fur probably would have rendered him invisible in the darkness, if not for the long, pink shaft pointing upwards between his legs and the drop of pre catching the streetlamps. At first, Zeke only stopped to do a double-take after almost missing him, but the other wolf met his gaze and lewdly started to stroke a paw over his hard shaft. If it was meant as an invitation, it worked. Before he knew it Zeke was sat on the bench next to him.

"So, uh, do people not mind you doing that?" he asked.

"Junoon? We're werewolves, son. This is natural." came the reply.

It wasn't until the "son" remark that Zeke took a proper look at the other wolf. He was definitely older, though he'd not yet learned to see age well in a werewolf's face. His frame was stocky, and as Zeke's tried to make out the exact shape of his black furred body against the darkness, his eyes once again fell on the wolf's thick, proud cock.

Everything after that was a blur. He was on his knees on the pavement between the older wolf's legs, thick cock pressing into his muzzle, tasting the pre that had been glistening in the light only moments ago. He traced his tongue under the older male's foreskin, teasing the supple flesh between his lips until he began to taste pre again, then taking the full length into his maw.

As he bobbed his muzzle furiously over the other males length, he kept a firm grasp on his own cock, the slight breeze in the air accentuating how exposed he was. He received little in the way of feedback from his partner, who barely even groaned as Zeke pushed his muzzle down enough for the older male's cock to enter his throat. As the lack of feedback continued, Zeke began to wonder if the older wolf was enjoying himself, and moments later the answer came in the form of a large amount of musky cum being shot against his tongue. Not wanting to risk walking home painted, Zeke swallowed. He kept the spent dick in muzzle, tracing the smooth skin with his tongue, finally pulling off only when the combined sensations proved to be too much and he shot his own load onto the pavement below.

As the rush wore off, he became all too aware that he was knelt between a stranger's legs in a public place. His ears twitched as he blushed under his fur, and he looked around to make sure nobody had seen - but while the streets were busier than when he'd started, the others were barely giving him and his nameless companion more than a second glance. As if sensing his shock, the other wolf broke his silence.

"Like I said, son, it's natural" he said, standing, "Some wolves just need to let it out - just try to enjoy yourself." He flashed Zeke a knowing grin, stood up, and walked away with his swollen, spent cock bouncing between his legs like the most normal thing in the world.

That was a couple of weeks ago, and since then Zeke tried to embrace the "enjoy yourself" lifestyle of the village. Though he'd not done anything as irresponsible as the night on the bench, he'd still had some fun with the other villagers, and he found that if he indulged himself every once in a while, that he was able to show more control over the desires of his wolf self.

"Moderation is the key, little bro" Andy had told him. "Dad always used to say that the wolf does things to our bodies that our human brains never evolved to deal with. If sex is your outlet, then you're going to need to let yourself vent once in a while or you'll just go nuts."

Andy had continued to act as a kind of mentor to Zeke even after arriving in the village, offering pearls of wisdom to help him deal with the transformations and his new body. It was like a second puberty, and he was thankful for the all the help he could get.

A week after his encounter with the older wolf, Zeke began to think about the conversation they'd had, and he remembered the question he'd had at the time. Later, when he and his brother were both watching TV nude in their wolf forms, he worked up the courage to ask.

"Andy, I met this other wolf, an older guy. I think he called me this word, janeer or something."

Andy just laughed. "You mean junoon? It's kind of a slang for a werewolf that's only just started changing. What were you doing that brought that on?"

Zeke's blush gave the game away before he'd even had chance to open his mouth, and Andy just laughed.

"So what did you do, little bro?"

Zeke told his brother about the encounter from start to finish, omitting nothing. As the story went on, he began to notice his brother's cock growing slightly, and without even realising he began to grow more confident in his storytelling. What started out as a matter-of-fact recanting of the events quickly became more and more explicit, until Zeke was talking unabashed about the older male's musk filling his nostrils, about how much he'd loved having a stranger's cock shoved down his throat, and how he'd finally cum himself as he knelt worshiping the guy's spent dick.

When he'd finished Andy was hard as a rock, so engrossed with Zeke's acts that he seemed to be a million miles away. Without warning, he moved forward and wrapped his arms around Zeke, pulling their muzzles together and kissing him firmly. Zeke froze for a moment, unsure of returning the kiss, until he felt a paw groping blindly down his chest until it found his heavy wolf nuts. As his brother's grasp tightened possessively around his balls, any doubt melted away. His tongue met his brother's, and he pressed himself against his muscular frame.

"I want you," Andy growled as he broke the kiss, "I want you to get on your knees and blow me like you blew that guy."

---

The next morning, the two awoke on the living room floor, human and naked, still wrapped in each other's arms. As the grogginess wore off, they realised their situation and jerked backwards almost simultaneously.

"Uh, I, uh..." Andy stuttered, "that kiss was just the-"

"-the wolf, right? Hormones?" Zeke interrupted, "We've fucked before, kissing is no big deal. Right?"

"Right. Right?"

"Right."

Quickly, the two scrambled for their clothes and went to their rooms.

When the transformations had begun, Andy had taken great pleasure in using his body to make Zeke as uncomfortable as possible. He said it was to help Zeke get over his human inhibitions and embrace the attitudes of the wolves, but Zeke knew it was just another form of playful sibling rivalry. Just as he was starting to get used to it, after the kiss, it had all stopped.

Andy and Zeke barely spoke until the next week, when word came through that the mayor of the village wanted to meet with the two in private.

"He doesn't usually do this," Andy said, "but he was a good friend of Dad's and a supporter of his work. I guess he wants to see what we're like."

The mayor had requested that the brothers arrive after nightfall - wolf business was for wolves to take care of. At first glance, his office could have easily been mistaken for any other government building in the country. Filing cabinets and stacks of paperwork littered the office, arranged into stacks of organised chaos, and a large calendar on the wall was covered in so many notes about meetings that to the untrained eye it looked like an illegible mess. Everything about it was so ordinary, that at first it helped to mask the large, black werewolf sat behind the desk.

Zeke's heart missed a beat. He stared at the mayor's face, and a familiar musky taste came back to him from that night in the street. If the mayor had the same moment of recognition, he didn't show it. Or perhaps he just didn't care.

"Andy, Zeke. My name is Martin, and I was a friend of your father's during his lab days."

For a moment, Zeke struggled to grasp that the dark-furred, muscular werewolf in front of him could have a name as ordinary as Martin.

"Your father was a great man. He spent his life trying to learn more about the wolf, trying to reconcile his love of science with the impossible things that happen to us. In all our years, he was probably the first great thinker of our kind. It's an honour to meet his children." He extended his paw, and shook each of the brother's paws in turn.

"I'm afraid, however, that I've brought you here to talk business. There's been a breach, for want of a better word. A man was brought to us after being attacked by a large wolf. Last night, he turned for the first time."

"No. That's impossible. Nobody's been infected in 30 years." Andy cut in.

"I'm afraid that's no longer the case. The subject of a cure doesn't often come up, but I feel that, given the circumstances... you are Ford's children, after all. I'm hoping you might be better placed to help."

Zeke lost the conversation quickly after that. Andy rattled through highlights of his father's research, while Zeke simply sat and nodded dumbly in an attempt to keep up. He knew his brother was smart, but he'd never guessed the extent of the knowledge he kept hidden away. After 15 minutes, Andy was dismissed and Zeke sat alone with the mayor.

"I hope you didn't feel like a third wheel there. You have a lot to take in, and the specifics of Ford's research must feel alien to you. But, Zeke, I needed you here for a different reason."

"We're werewolves son, this is natural." came the gruff voice echoing through Zeke's mind, and he had momentary visions of the older wolf rising from behind the desk to reveal an aching cock, before bending him over his desk and jumping straight into round two.

"Yes, sir?" he squeaked.

"The victim changed for the first time last night. This is all very new to him, and scary. You're the newest junoon here, and as Ford's son you're uniquely positioned to help."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Just speak to him, son, just speak to him."

---

The next day, Zeke found himself at Landis hospital, sat at a round cafeteria table opposite a visibly shaken man cradling a styrofoam cup of coffee. He looked to be in his mid-20s, a little chubby, with messy brown hair and short beard covering most of his chin. It was hard to tell if the style was deliberate or a result of a rough few days since his attack, but either way he carried the style well.

The man knew what had happened to him, and what he'd become. At first he'd denied the possibility, so the doctors had shown him security camera footage of his first transformation. After watching himself turn, he seemed to have accepted it.

As the man looked up, Zeke extended a hand eagerly.

"I'm Zeke Hutchins. They want me to try and, uh, help you through this."

"Did you get attacked too?" the man replied, shaking Zeke's hand.

"No, I was born this way. We don't start turning until our twenties though, so I'm new to all this too."

"Would you mind showing me to my room? It would be good to have you have you around if I start... changing."

Zeke nodded, and the two set off.

Graham's room was more like a hotel than a hospital. Magazines and a cream coloured lamp were piled up on a nightstand next to a freshly made bed, and a laptop sat open on a professional looking desk. Piles of clothes lay next to an opened suitcase. Graham noticed Zeke's curiosity. "They brought me some of my stuff this morning. Guess I'm making myself at home." At first there was a tinge of sadness to his voice as he spoke, but as soon as the door closed, Graham's face became a mischievous grin. "Mind if I ask a personal question, Zeke?"

"Hmm?"

"You're gay, right? I get a feeling that you are."

"I am, but...-ah!" Zeke was cut off by a surprise hand on his crotch.

"I thought so. Don't ask me how, but I can tell that you want me. Is that a wolf thing?"

"Graham-" He tried to object, but his words turned to quiet whimpers as Graham deftly unzipped his fly and tugged his swollen dick out into the open. As he felt Graham run his fingers gently over his manhood, he tried to resist, and instead felt the familiar twitch that accompanied a change.

God, not now.

"Don't read too much into this," he said, instinctively tugging his shirt off over his head and throwing it to one side, urgently trying to shed them before the transformation. He moved his hands to his waist to undo the button above his fly, hurriedly tugging both his jeans and boxers down at once. His cock sprang quickly up against his stomach as he tugged them down, much to the amusement of his onlooker.

As he kicked off his last items of clothing, he caught Graham grinning at him. He was so engrossed in the strip show Zeke had been forced to provide that he'd not even noticed his own transformation beginning. His muscles bulged out against his clothes as he grew, and Zeke could already see patches of dark fur forming across his face. The look on Graham's face was priceless as he realised what was happening. His cocky expression faded as he tried to tug off his shirt, but it was too late - a telltale rip resounded through the room as his shirt tore at the seams and tufts of coarse fur poked through the open holes. As the shock wore off, he moved his hands down to save his jeans, but only succeeded in slashing the denim with his newly-changed claws.

At first Zeke watched with amusement, glad for the distraction, but it didn't take long for him to realise that he'd been in the same boat only a few weeks ago. I'm meant to be helping this guy. Shaking free pangs of guilt, he stepped forward quickly, grabbing Graham's arm and steadying it as the half-wolf tore at his remaining clothes. "It's too late, just let it happen. You'll just slash yourself at this rate."

Zeke wasn't expecting him to resist, and the force of trying to wrench his arm free from Zeke's grasp sent the two toppling over. They hit a cheap-looking wooden nightstand, shattering the wood and throwing magazines over the floor. The shock dazed them both for a moment, but Zeke was the first to recover as he became aware of a damp spot on his stomach. He brushed his fingers against it, worried that he'd been injured, but he found only a clear liquid that matted the fur on his fingers. As he came to his senses, he realised what it was. A thin strand of pre connected the tip of his drooling cock to the damp spot on in his belly fur where his manhood had come to rest after the fall.

Graham started to stir, and Zeke's wolf instincts took over. He pounced, pinning the freshly transformed wolf to the ground amongst the ruins of the nightstand. He buried his muzzle in the other wolf's neckfur and nipped playfully.

"I win."

Graham arched his hips, pressing back until Zeke's thick cock pressed under his newly-grown tail, "Best of three? Winner tops."

Suddenly, the door to the room flew open and two doctors rushed in.

"We heard the bang, is everything alright?" one of them asked sharply. Zeke froze, cocking his leg to best conceal the aching cock pressed between their bodies. Surprisingly, Graham was the first to speak.

"I'm sorry, I... changed. Zeke was trying to stop me from hurting myself. I'm okay now."

The doctors looked at them both with suspicion. "Either way, visiting time is over. You'll have to leave."

Zeke lay there awkwardly for a moment, praying to whatever god would listen that his hardon would vanish as quickly as it had arrived.

"Sir?"

He grimaced and stood up, his semi-hard wolf cock dangling obviously between his legs, the tip still shining and smeared with pre. This is normal for werewolves. This is normal for werewolves. This is normal for werewolves.

He gathered his clothes and made for the door, making a vain attempt to casually hold them at crotch height. One of the doctors sighed as he passed, with the same tone usually reserved for telling off children for throwing rocks. "Junoons."

As he looked back, he saw Graham grinning that cocky grin of his. Stood there in his tattered clothing, he looked just like a werewolf from an old horror film. He made for a big wolf, broad shoulders helping to mask what could only be described as a muscle-gut poking through his ruined clothes. Below his waist, only his boxers had survived, barely. The elastic clung to his waist, scraps of material hanging down like a loincloth, the smallest amount of pink flesh visible through the tears. And then, for the first time since getting the thing, Zeke's tail began to wag.