Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Big Wolf On Campus
Challenge/Prompt: 1_million_words Weekend Challenge: Football
Word Count: 1,136
Date Written: 13 May 2018
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.
It’s strange. He never liked football before. He used to hate all sports, and school games were only yet another ample opportunity for bullies to pick on him. Yet he loves throwing the old pigskin for his boyfriend. “GO LONG!” he calls, one pale hand cupping around his mouth. For most skilled players, that would mean several years, but his words send Tommy, in his Werewolf form, running backwards a little more than a mile.
Merton pulls his arm back and slings the ball as hard as he can, wishing he could actually throw it far enough to be a real challenge to his lover. Tommy jumps, and Merton swears he hears an excited yelp leave his fuzzy lips. He hurtles after the ball, catches it, and throws it back. The Goth ducks just in time as the ball zooms over his head. “TOMMY!” he chides. “THAT COULD’VE TAKEN OFF MY HEAD!”
But Tommy’s suddenly gone. Merton stands and looks around at the emptied park in the midnight hour. His boyfriend is no longer to be seen. He shakes his head and, wondering quietly if this is anything at all how Lex used to feel every time Clark disappeared on him, heads after the ball.
He picks it up and tosses it around in his pale hands a few times before finally letting himself lift the ball and sniff it. As he does so, he realizes it’s beginning to lose some of its air and that Tommy’s claws have punctured yet another ball. It will be flat by morning unless he airs it up. He sniffs again, and pass the dirt and sweat, he smells the musky tang of a certain fuzzball. He grins, closing his eyes and sniffing again.
Reopening his dark eyes, Merton tosses the ball in his hands again and heads for his car. He opens the hearse’s trunk and digs pass spellbooks, candles, crosses, and other tools he keeps always at hand. Lifting the fake bottom of the hearse, he slides the ball into place with several other footballs just as he hears footsteps pounding toward him.
Merton slides the fake bottom’s carpet back into place and is readjusting his tools over the top when Tommy arrives. “What happened to the ball?” he asks, panting.
“What happened to you?” Merton returns.
Tommy scratches an ear. Merton hears his foot tap behind him and knows he’s trying hard to keep from whining. “Aw, come on, don’t be like that. You know I had to go play hero again or I wouldn’t have left.”
“What did Stacey -- “
“It wasn’t Stacey this time.”
“Yeah.” Merton almost snorts. “This time.”
“Are you jealous?”
Merton keeps his back to him. He scoffs.
“You are! You’re jealous!” Tommy grabs his elbow and turns him around with gentleness that anyone in their little town except Merton would be surprised to know the Pleasantville Werewolf possessed. “There’s no reason for you to be jealous,” Tommy tells him now that he’s facing him.
Merton pouts. His dark, stormy eyes look at Tommy’s sneakers instead of his hairy, handsome face. “You could have at least told me -- “
“Look. Some woman was getting robbed on the other side of the park. It could’ve gotten a lot uglier. They could have -- “ He doesn’t want to finish his sentence. He has a mother, a sister, and friends too whom he can not stand the idea of becoming hurt, or worse, at the bad end of a mugger’s knife. A small whine starts to escape him, but Merton is already nodding.
“I know. I know,” he mutters, throwing his hands defensively up in the night air. “You had to go play hero.”
“Yes,” Tommy agrees, “I had to, but I chose to come back to you.”
Those simple words make his boyfriend break out into a wide, charming, and almost bashful grin. “Keep it that way,” Merton murmurs.
“I will,” Tommy whispers huskily, his head angling down over Merton’s, “as long as you promise to keep waiting for me whenever I have to go do heroics.”
“I will,” Merton promises, and as Tommy kisses him, he wonders again if that was how Lex had felt every time Clark had returned to him in their early days. He had obviously grown tired of waiting, however, when he’d gone out to try to capture the world, but there are those, Merton himself included, who understand that Lex’s first attempts at world domination had been intended to save the world.
Somewhere along the line, things had gone terribly, terribly wrong, but things won’t go wrong between himself and Tommy. However many nights he had to wait, however long Tommy took performing his heroic deeds, he will always wait for him and never grow tired of waiting for him, let alone give up. He’ll always have the old pigskins to toss around on lonely nights after all, and every one he keeps brings the image of his handsome, sweet, and heroic boyfriend welling up in Merton’s mind’s eyes whenever he closes his eyes and inhales its thick aromas. He has those balls and nearly a hundred other things Tommy has touched over their time together to keep him company while he waits for his boyfriend’s safe return.
Tommy presses a hand to the small of Merton’s slender back and draws him closer and harder against him. He deepens their kiss, his tongue sliding smoothly into Merton’s mouth, twisting around his, and pulling a soft whimper from him this time. Oh, yeah, Merton will definitely wait for Tommy. He’ll wait however long it takes, and unlike Lex, he’ll never let anything come between them. The world, after all, doesn’t really matter to Merton. All that matters is the man who holds him close, kisses him until all thoughts cease, and makes him feel, every night they’re together, like he’s the most important thing in the world. All that matters is Tommy, and he’ll always wait for however long it takes to be with him again -- and however long those waits may prove to be, they’ll always be made worthwhile when Tommy’s back with him again and ravishes his lips as he’s doing now.
In the silver moonlight, with Tommy’s mouth on his and his tongue reaching to Merton’s throat, the human is the one who feels like howling not with pain, sorrow, or anguish but with the sheer magnitude of the pleasure his Werewolf sends coursing through him. When Tommy lifts his head to let him breathe, Merton does howl softly, but then he leans up and captures his Werewolf’s mouth again with his own. He reaches up with his hands and caresses his pointy, fuzzy ears. When Tommy throws his head back and howls, Merton joins him; both men know this is where they belong and will always belong forever.