Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

He drove down the dirt road that vanished into the darkness of the forest, following the trail of red lights from the cars ahead. Only the headlights cut through the gloom, casting unstable shadows that danced among the twisted trees. The autumn night bit at the skin with its biting cold, and Casey, huddled in the passenger seat of the truck, gnawed at her nails until she almost hurt herself from anxiety.

Andre drew on his cigarette slowly, as if the bitter taste were the last calm he had. Maybe it really was. Then he tossed the glowing tip out the window, where it died in the cold wind.

“Are you sure this is safe?” Her voice came out almost as a whisper.

He smirked. “This definitely isn’t safe, but that’s the fun part, right?”

“I guess so,” she replied, with a nervous smile.

“Relax, I’ve done this before. It’s fun.”

Then, ahead, a clearing began to appear, the yellow light of other cars staining the ground and casting restless shadows.

Andre drove into the clearing, and the headlights revealed a few cars parked haphazardly. People scattered in small circles, laughing loudly and raising red cups.

Andre stopped abruptly in an empty spot, stepping out of his Ford with the snap of the door. Casey hesitated before stepping out, her cautious steps reflecting her own apprehension as she closed the door gently. The cold wind played with her blonde hair, tossing strands over her face.

As Andre watched her from a distance, a persistent thought threatened to cross his mind…

No.

His teeth ground together, almost sounding like a warning. He wouldn’t let his mind get lost in him tonight.

Casey was… too good. Too kind. Too good for him. And he didn’t even really know why she was dating him. But there was one thing he could recognize: she wasn’t a manipulative bitch. He liked her. He needed to like her. Why the hell wouldn’t he? Guys would give anything to be in his place right now, and he… still felt that irritating mix of guilt burning in his chest.

Suddenly, as if pulled by some gravitational force, his eyes swept across the crowded clearing. And then he saw him. Those blue eyes pierced him with precision, burning into his memory, while the pale blonde hair he had feared in his worst nightmares appeared there, alive and real.

A bitter taste settled in Andre’s mouth, his stomach twisted, and the world around him vanished. Everything went silent at once; the music became an annoying hum, drowned out by the weight of that gaze. Every breath, every sound, every movement, every person seemed distant, irrelevant—everything converged on him alone.

Always him.

An electric chill ran down his spine to his feet, freezing every muscle. He knew he couldn’t let his mind give in, but it seemed impossible to look away from the presence that had haunted him for weeks, there, only a few meters away.

Andre was pulled back to reality by Casey, who pinched his arm hard, forcing him to look away from that piercing gaze that seemed to bore into his soul. He stared at her, surprised. When had she gotten so close?

“Hey, are you okay? You looked like you were sleepwalking. I called you, but you didn’t seem to hear.”

“Hmm? Oh… yeah. I’m fine.”

“Who was he?”

“Who?”

“That guy you were staring at.”

Andre opened his mouth to answer, but before a word could come out, a brunette jumped on Casey with force, interrupting him with almost wild enthusiasm.

“I can’t believe you came!” Jordan exclaimed, hugging her tightly. “We’re going to have so much fun!” Her laugh betrayed that she had probably been drinking, but the joy was almost contagious.

But any happiness he might have felt that night was extinguished the moment his eyes met his.

“Oh my God, let go of me! You’re crushing me!” Casey laughed, trying to free herself from Jordan’s tight grip.

“Okay, sorry.” Jordan laughed, turning her gaze to Andre.

“Hi, Andre. How are you?”

“I’m fine… excuse me, I’m just going to grab a drink.”

Andre needed alcohol, anything to pull him away from that overwhelming presence. He gave Casey a casual shoulder tap and stepped away, refusing to look back. His eyes remained fixed ahead, on his own feet. Everywhere but that direction.

Towards him.

Andre reached the coolers with hurried movements, grabbed a beer, popped it open and drank like it was water, feeling the icy liquid burn his throat. In one gulp he finished it and threw the bottle to the ground, not noticing the crash that echoed.

When he looked up, distracted, the world seemed to twist: the blond moved forward like a feline, each step silent, as if Andre were his prey. As if he feared Andre might run. Andre’s eyes widened, his heart raced, and a cold panic ran down his spine, freezing every muscle. Each of Cal’s steps felt like tons of weight; every breath, closer, was suffocating. Andre imagined running to the car, fleeing that place. But it was impossible — his feet were glued to the ground, his legs betrayed him, refusing to obey.

And the worst part? Cal was stunning. Andre hated him. He hated the angelic perfection he carried, the almost-innocent beauty that fooled anyone at first glance. His blond fringe fell with an elegant carelessness over his eyes.

His Linkin Park hoodie, worn and way too big for his frame, hid scars on his arms; ripped blue jeans revealed red, scraped knees, and black military boots completed the look.

From a distance you couldn’t notice, but Cal had freckles on his face, usually more visible under sunlight. Andre saw his face flushed, cheeks and nose red — always like that in the cold. He looked like an angel sent to torment him.

It was ironic that Cal’s middle name was Gabriel. An angel.

In his twenty-two years, Andre had never found anyone as beautiful as Calvin. But inside, he knew: it was all rot. Manipulator. Cold. Calculating. The prettiest angel in heaven was just a fallen angel. Lucifer. Appearances deceive, and Cal was living proof.

His eardrums throbbed when a sharp sound came from the speakers, drawing everyone’s attention in the clearing. On the black truck in the center, where Almon — the creator of the “hunt” — stood, he used the distraction to run toward Casey, who was beside Jordan and their friends.

“Hey, hey! Everyone pay attention! Let’s start the night!” Almon’s voice echoed across the clearing, and a collective cheer answered, vibrating in the cold night air.

“But first, I need to explain the rules to this year’s newbies. For those who don’t know me, I’m Almon, creator of the ‘hunt’. For the uninitiated, the hunt is like tag… only much, much more fun.”

He paused theatrically, looking around, eyes shining with amusement.

“The rules are simple: you’ll be lambs or hunters. Just two teams. Easy, right?” A wide smile formed on his face. “Hunters are handpicked by me, every year. The rest… well, the rest are the lambs.”

The crowd buzzed, laughter and shouts blending; the clearing’s atmosphere felt charged with electricity, ready to explode into chaos and adrenaline.

“The hunters receive their mark on the arm,” Almon continued, his voice cutting through the murmur, firm and authoritative. “They can hide it; you won’t know who they are. So don’t trust anyone when I honk the horn. Each lamb will receive a red bandana. A hunter has to take it from you; if he succeeds, you’re out. You can grab or pull, but hitting? No way. And don’t think it’ll be easy: each hunter will also have a bandana, so you won’t identify them at first glance. Each hunter knows who the others are and who the lambs are. The starting point is here. The endpoint, the old abandoned church on the other side of the clearing. To keep people from getting lost, ribbons have been tied to the trees to mark the route. At the end, we’ll tally the points.”

“As you know,” Almon said, eyes gleaming, “this isn’t exactly a lawful activity. I picked the hunters myself, but I gave permission to everyone else here. So this is our secret. If you don’t feel comfortable being prey, being touched by a hunter… you can leave now.”

A heavy silence fell over the clearing, as if the forest itself held its breath. Almon raised his hand and cut through the cold air: “Everyone else, form a line and grab your bandanas and flashlights. Let the hunt begin.”

Tension was palpable. Every shadow seemed to move; every laugh and whisper reverberated as a warning: no one would leave the hunt unscathed.

Andre felt the mark on his arm burn as if fire had been branded beneath his skin, even through his jacket. An unsettling tingling crawled through his body, on high alert. He might have felt excited, following the flow like it was just another Halloween prank — if not for Cal’s eyes drilling into him.

Reluctantly, Andre followed Jordan and Casey to the line to pick up bandanas. The motion felt automatic, almost ritualistic: people reached out, took the fabric, and tied it to their wrists with nervous haste, as if wanting it over with. Some didn’t dare join the line; they leaned against their cars, watching from a distance. Too scared to play, too curious to leave.

When his turn came, Andre grabbed the flashlight and the bandana quickly, but his fingers shook. The fabric slid cold against his skin, and he tied it to his wrist with clumsy, hurried motions, still feeling a burning gaze on the back of his neck.

“Okay, now that everyone’s got their bandanas,” Almon said, voice slicing through the murmur, “form a line at the edge of the forest.” A heavy silence fell. The wind felt colder, the smell of wet earth stronger, and every heart pounded faster, as if the forest itself watched, waiting to swallow them.

“When I honk the horn…” he continued, scanning each participant, “…you run.”

The air grew electrically tense. Andre felt his stomach tighten, eyes automatically searching for Cal among the crowd. Every second dragged; the world narrowed to the imminence of something nobody could name but everyone feared.

They all surged toward the woods, the wet ground sinking under their feet, mud splattering their boots. Casey was beside Andre, visibly nervous — maybe afraid of the dark or some other nonsense. He didn’t care what might be hidden among the trees. What unnerved him was who would enter the forest with him when the horn sounded. Irony gnawed at his mind: he, meant to hunt, now felt like prey.

“Break Stuff,” by Limp Bizkit, blared from the speakers like an omen. Almon, always theatrical, wouldn’t waste the chance to put on a show. Drama queen, Andre thought.

Then the horn blew. A sharp crack that released the crowd into the darkness. No one hesitated before plunging into the trees, swallowed by shadows, each running in a different direction trying to disappear.

Andre didn’t even touch his flashlight; there was no time, and he wouldn’t risk being seen. Each step hit heavy on the wet ground; his lungs burned. His heart hammered in his chest, each beat reminding him of a cruel truth: Cal was behind him. Always behind him.

The forest seemed to shrink around him, as if alive. Branches scraped his skin; roots rose treacherous to trip him. Still, he ran — muscles taut, lungs aflame, trying to escape that invisible gaze that pursued him.

It’s just one of those days.

It’s all about the “he says, she says” bullshit.

I think you better quit, lettin’ shit slip.

Or you’ll be leavin’ with a fat lip.

The music faded but stayed loud enough to reverberate in his mind, turning every lyric into delirium, every beat into a hammer. The sound shredded him, nerves exposed, as he plunged deeper into the forest’s darkness. He paid no mind to the damn bandanas on the trees, nor the correct path to the old church. All that mattered was running. Fleeing.

Then he slammed on the brakes, stopped by a colossal rock in the middle of the path. Gasping, he fought to catch his breath. He looked frantically around. Darkness wrapped him, thick and impenetrable; silence became suffocating. No sound, no sign of life. Maybe he’d shaken them… but doubt tasted bitter: what if he hadn’t?

His thoughts were cut off by the crack of a twig to his right. He spun around, heart pounding, adrenaline burning through his veins. But he saw nothing.

Before he realized it, he was shoved hard to the damp ground, cold mud sticking to his skin, while someone launched themselves on top of him. He reacted instantly, pushing the attacker’s body, and the two of them rolled across the soaking soil. Weight pinned him to the earth, stealing the air he desperately tried to reclaim. The smell of wet leaves and rust filled his nostrils, mixed with ragged breathing as they both wrestled for dominance.

Cal managed to get on top of him and, before he could be overpowered, pressed a fucking pocketknife to his face.

“Move and I swear I’ll cut you,” the blond snarled, gasping, his chest heaving fast.

Andre felt his own blood boiling.

“You never manage a fair fight, huh, Monsterchen? Always cheating,” Andre snapped with a grin.

“Don’t call me that, damn it!” Cal was furious. “Not after bringing that bitch with you.”

“Oh… so that’s what this is about?” His voice was venomous, almost a whisper, as he pressed the knife closer to Andre’s skin. “You’re mad because I’m fucking someone else?”

Cal’s eyes darkened, sharpening like blades. He felt every word hit his weak spot.

“You’re lying,” he said, short of breath, teeth grinding, trying to control the urge to attack.

“I’m not,” the other’s provocation was slow, almost painful. “Want to hear how I made her moan my name at night?” He was lying; he and Casey had never slept together, they had only known each other for a week.

The provocation made Cal falter for a moment, frozen in shock. He didn’t waste time: he grabbed Andre’s wrist with force, sending the knife clattering to the ground beside him. In one swift movement, he pushed Cal back.

Before Cal could advance again, Andre got up with the knife and threw it away. He would definitely not risk letting Cal have a knife in his hands.

He was still taller and stronger than Cal.

Cal stood in front of him, panting, chest heaving, eyes flashing with rage and frustration.

“You fucking bastard!” he roared, voice trembling and on the verge of breaking. “Lying bastard! You couldn’t even wait a few weeks before fucking someone else!”

“Fuck, seriously? You manipulated me, used me, Cal!” Andre shouted, voice tearing through the night. “And now here you are, full of shit, acting like you have every right in the world! And you were the one who left!!”

Cal’s reply came like a cutting wind, laced with a calm that only made Andre angrier.

“I’ll kill. You — and that fucking bitch… Actually, I’ll kill her, and I’ll make you watch while I gut her like a damn rabbit.”

Before he could respond, Cal lunged at him again with another knife — of course he had another. Andre dodged just before the blade pierced his skin; it grazed him, only tearing the fabric of his jacket.

Cal attacked again, without hesitation. Andre grabbed Cal’s arms with all his strength to keep the blade from hitting him. Cal pushed him back onto the wet forest floor, straddling him and forcing to stab.

He had no choice but to move the blade toward his shoulder and let Cal graze him, cutting through his shirt and puncturing his skin — but not before Andre headbutted the blond, sending him falling onto the damp earth, hands over his face.

Both were bleeding now — thick, dark streams ran from Cal’s nose, staining his skin. The knife fell beside Andre with a dull metallic clatter. He didn’t think. He just grabbed it, even with pain throbbing through his arm, fingers trembling, body pulsing with adrenaline.

A gasp escaped his throat as the wound burned. Blood ran onto his white shirt, turning it red, mixed with mud and sweat.

Then, with a sharp motion, he threw the blade far away, the metal spinning in the air before hitting the ground with a dry, distant thud. Far enough that Cal couldn’t reach it.

“You’re always such a reckless bitch. How many times do I have to tell you to think before you act?” Andre growled, mixing pain and irritation, pulling the blond by his feet. Cal struggled, trying to kick, but failed as Andre anchored his legs.

“Fuck you! You almost broke my nose!” Calvin shouted, still holding his face.

“You just stabbed me, Calvin!” Andre snapped, voice ragged with pain and rage.

“You asked for it!” Cal finally let his hands drop to his sides, clenching the wet earth with fury. His flushed face and tear-filled eyes were revealed. Blood ran from his nose, staining his skin and shirt, mingling with the wet earth beneath them. It was almost cruel: yet he looked angelic, terrifyingly beautiful. Every drop of blood, every scratch, only enhanced that almost supernatural aura.

Andre felt a surge of intense rage, sharper than the pain from the stab. He wanted to break Cal, stain him, destroy that perfect face that taunted him so much.

Hatred and desire tangled inside him, sickening, impossible to separate.

But he didn’t think they could ever be separated.

The worst part was Cal. He hated how Cal could dominate his emotions, make him feel something so intense — so twisted — without even trying.

“I hate you,” Andre snarled, voice cutting, trembling between rage, despair, and the worst part: arousal. Seeing Calvin like this made his jeans tighten over his skin.

Cal laughed, as if Andre had just told the funniest joke in the world.

“Oh, tell me how much you hate me,” he said, the corner of his mouth curved into a sharp, provocative smile. “What’s her name again? Casey? Blonde, right? Short hair.” He tilted his head, studying Andre with eyes that gleamed with sadistic pleasure. “Trying to replace me? Is it working?”

Cal’s low, theatrical laugh continued as he advanced mentally on Andre. “If you hate me so much, why can’t you stay away? Why are you always behind me? Looking for me in other people. Tell me, explain to me how you regret meeting me, how awful I am… and yet you tried to replace me with a cheap copy.”

Andre clenched his jaw so hard his teeth ground together, trying to contain the last thread of sanity he had left.

Cal leaned his face close to Andre’s, so near that Andre could feel the heat of his breath, the malicious smile growing like a promise of torment.

“Liar,” Cal murmured, the word falling like a cold blade, cutting straight into the rage and obsession Andre tried to hold back. “C-O-W-A-R-D,” Cal spelled out with a manic grin. “You call me impulsive, but you’re a weakling who never does what he wants—”

Cal’s monologue was brutally interrupted. Andre shoved his head into the wet ground. Before he could react, Andre had already turned him, kneeling on his back like a predator. Cal’s bruised, pained face was pressed into the cold, sticky earth; the taste of mud mingling with blood assaulted every sense.

Andre intended it that way. To suffocate him. To leave him gasping for air.

“Fuck, you never know when to shut up,” Andre muttered, each word thick with contained rage and frustration, body tense over him, feeling every shiver of the blond under his weight. He released his hold on Calvin’s head only to grab his arms, forcing them back.

“What the hell do you think you were doing?” Calvin spat, voice full of fury, struggling in vain against the hands pinning him, desperately trying to meet Andre’s gaze from the position he was trapped in.

Andre didn’t respond. He simply yanked the red scarf from the blond’s wrist with a sharp motion and, without hesitation, tied his hands behind his back. The knot pressed firm, aggressive, penetrating — a clear warning that he could hurt, leave his mark. His erection pressed against Cal’s ass, hot and insistent, reminding them both of their proximity.

He grabbed Calvin’s hair with his fist and pulled him back, leaning close to the younger’s ear. The erection was now impossible to ignore, tense between them. “You look so good like this, darling… tied up like a lamb of God.” His breath brushed Calvin’s skin, slow and teasing. “Maybe I should cover your mouth too.”

Cal seemed more aware of his erection, opening his mouth in faint surprise, eyes widening for a few seconds before returning to his irritated expression.

“If you think I’ll let you fuck me, after fucking that bitch, you must be delirious,” Calvin growled with disgust.

Cal’s words made Andre chuckle; Cal had always been extremely possessive, and he found it adorable.

“Laugh. I swear to the gods I’ll slit that slut’s throat in front of you—”

Andre interrupted Cal by shoving two fingers into his mouth, cutting off any words in a gag, while gripping his blond hair harder.

“Don’t even think about biting, or I’ll smash your head into this ground again,” he murmured, feeling Cal’s teeth brush his fingers; they didn’t bite, just pressed, a silent threat.

“Be a good boy… and suck,” Andre ordered, pushing his fingers deeper into his mouth.

He expected Cal to resist, to bite. But to his surprise, Cal gave in. His warm mouth and tongue wrapping around Andre’s fingers made him tense, each movement amplifying the sense of control he needed to maintain. His cock throbbed against his pants, imagining Cal’s hot mouth on him again.

But no. He wanted something else tonight. He wanted to bury Calvin into this earth and push him to the limit, until no coherent word or thought escaped his mouth.

With his free hand, he pulled back the fabric of Calvin’s hoodie, revealing his bare shoulder, and bit down. The blond shivered. He knew what Calvin liked: pain.

He bit firmly, leaving a mark that would last for days, then licked the wound, drawing a gasp from Cal as his fingers became soaked with saliva.

His erection pressed impossibly against Cal. He moved up, sucking the blond’s neck, who writhed beneath him, while thrusting his hips, seeking any friction to relieve the growing pressure.

“Fuck, Cal… fuck, that’s good.” The brunette slid his free hand through Cal’s belt, undoing it urgently, and pulled down his pants along with his underwear, without wasting a second.

Andre removed his fingers from Cal’s mouth, drawing out a hoarse moan that sounded like a plea. Calvin was pure chaos: saliva and blood mixed, running down his chin in bright red streaks, as if the flesh itself were crying. Andre moved his chest away from his back just to better contemplate the naked vulnerability opening up before him. Calvin’s breathing came in disordered sobs; his chest heaved too quickly, and his whole body trembled as if it were going to collapse at any moment.

With a firm gesture, Andre pulled his hips, forcing him to stay upright, submissive, like a dog. The movement made Cal lose his balance, his head falling against the ground with a low grunt, muffled by the dirt. Andre then let his gaze wander across that skin too pale for his taste, almost insulting in its purity. Cal didn’t deserve to look so pure. He should be marked. By him.

The snap that came next broke the air—dry, cruel, violent—on Cal’s butt, making him jolt forward with a moan.

“Son of a bitch—”

Andre interrupted him without ceremony, sticking a finger, lubricated by blood and saliva, into his slit, making Cal bend forward in reaction to the intrusion. Andre held his hip steady with his free hand, pressing the finger deeper, feeling the grip as if the flesh itself wanted to crush him.

“Damn, you’re always so tight.”

Andre began to move his finger rhythmically, the wet sound echoing between them, searching for that point capable of making Cal see stars. The blonde remained with his cheek buried in the earth, deep and instinctive moans escaping from his lips—sounds Andre couldn’t name, but that ignited every pulse of his own desire.

Then he slid in another finger, deeper. He must have hit the right spot, because Cal suddenly squirmed, his mouth forming an “o,” his eyes rolling, sobs tearing through his throat.

Andre didn’t slow down. He continued to work the same spot, while his other hand moved Calvin’s cock in precise back-and-forth motions, lubricated by the blonde’s own pre-cum that flowed, amplifying every tremor and moan that escaped from his body. Each contraction made Andre’s cock twitch in his pants.

“Andre… I can’t… too much… that’s… too much.” Cal tried to speak between sobs, saliva dripping from his mouth, but his words were lost in uncontrollable moans.

“You can do it, schatz…you take my fingers so well.”

“I… I’m almost…”

“I got you, I got you. Come, schatz.”

Andre intensified the rhythm even more, exploring Calvin’s prostate with precision, while keeping the motion on his cock, his finger massaging Cal’s head and drawing out high-pitched, desperate moans.

“Dre… I… I’m going.”

Andre repeated the motion, firm and insistent. Calvin came hard, his whole body trembling, eyes rolling behind his eyelids, sobs and moans merging into absolute chaos. Andre didn’t stop moving, exploring each reaction, intensifying the youngest’s orgasm until he collapsed into Andre’s arms, completely surrendered, vulnerable, consumed by pleasure.

If Andre hadn’t held him, he would have fallen entirely to the ground.

“I need to see you, Cal.” Andre’s voice came choppy from his own accelerated breathing, as he turned the blonde’s body until they were face to face. Cal’s tied arms were raised above his head, trapped against the wet earth, while half of his weight was supported by Andre.

The blonde’s face was a portrait of chaos: tears, saliva, and blood mixed on his marked skin, cheeks flushed from exertion, breath short and broken into uneven sobs. His body, still soft and sensitive after orgasm, trembled under Andre’s touch. And for the first time that night, his eyes—cloudy, teary, completely surrendered—revealed raw vulnerability as they locked on Andre’s.

“You… you didn’t sleep with her, did you?” Cal’s voice was fragile, full of insecurity, but also with a hope burning behind his gaze. The silent plea made Andre’s chest tighten.

“Fuck… obviously not.” The answer came almost like a vow before Andre leaned in, taking the blonde’s lips in a rough, desperate kiss. Cal gave in without hesitation, letting their tongues entwine in a fierce contest. The taste was metallic, bitter, but perversely satisfying, something that burned like truth.

Their mouths were more like a battlefield than a refuge, urgency overflowing with every movement. It had been weeks since they had lost themselves like this in each other, and the accumulated hunger made them wild, ruthless in their need.

“I need you inside me.” Cal’s voice came choppy through the kiss, his panting lips brushing against Andre’s. “I need you to untie me… I want to touch you. I’ve needed it… for weeks, Dre.” Cal spoke slyly, tone heavy with desire, each word making Andre lose the last of his self-control.

“Okay, fuck it.” Andre stood, still holding Cal by the hips, undoing the knot of the red scarf that held his wrists. The air between them felt dense, almost burning, making their skin tingle. When the scarf fell to the ground, Cal’s fingers grabbed Andre urgently, sliding along his belt, unbuttoning his pants with desperate momentum. The heat of their bodies mixed, breathing becoming fast and irregular.

“Wait… get that shit out.” Andre moved away, his firm hands sliding along Cal’s contours before pulling the rest of Calvin’s pants and throwing them aside without any care. He helped Cal rip the sweatshirt off over his head, the hasty movements almost brutal. The moment of distance was short, almost cruel; soon he advanced again, fitting between the blonde’s legs with an excessive hunger, capturing his lips in a sick kiss, full of violence and desire. His breath was confused, hot, urgent, while Cal pulled Andre’s underwear down with feverish haste.

“I want to feel you, Dre.” Calvin whimpered against Andre’s lips, intertwining his legs around his hips, holding him as if he couldn’t let him escape.

“I know… I know.” Andre spread kisses on the blonde’s lips while guiding himself firmly. Moving his hips forward, he entered at once, making Cal arch his back and let out a moan, holding him by the shoulders. Andre’s vision went white for an instant at the sensation of the hot, tight body around him.

“M-Move.” Cal’s voice came out trembling, almost pleading, his eyes watery and his face flushed red.

Andre didn’t hesitate. He pulled back and thrust forward in a firm arc, each movement making him see white dots in his vision. The raw, lascivious sound of their bodies colliding, intertwined with short breaths, broke the silence of the forest like an echo, which seemed to impregnate the night air. But what drove him craziest was Cal’s expression—as if he were a porn actor: his mouth ajar, letting out moans, his face flushed, his eyes blurred, lost between pain and ecstasy as if he were in another world.

The pressure of Cal’s body drove him wild; each movement was both a burning invitation and a sweet torture. Calvin’s hands, once firm on his shoulders, slid to his back, searching the skin hidden under the shirt. His nails dug in, leaving marks as a souvenir.

“Oh, my God… that’s so… good… I missed you so much.” The confession escaped in trembling moans, his eyes half-closed, drunk with pleasure, while Cal’s body welcomed him, returning every movement.

“Fuck… you’re crushing me… look at me, mein liebling.” Without stopping, he slid his hand from Cal’s hips to his blonde strands, pulling them firmly, forcing him to meet his eyes. Cal struggled to stay focused, but his body betrayed him—the dilated pupils, the crystalline blue of his eyes almost swallowed by the darkness of desire. His half-open mouth let out low, fragile, out-of-step sounds, like meows Andre never thought he’d hear again. His flushed face burned with fever, and the hair glued to his skin by sweat gave him an even more desperately beautiful air.

“I need… more… stronger, Dre.” The plea escaped in trembling sighs, but Andre didn’t give him time to breathe—he silenced him with a kiss, leaving no room for delicacy. Noses clashed, teeth creaked, mouths met in hungry bites. It was a desperate, wild confusion, marked by raw desire. Nothing beautiful, nothing soft, nothing careful at all. Only the violence of two bodies that didn’t know how to love otherwise.

Andre rose from Cal’s chest, leaning on his knees, and lifted one of Calvin’s legs to his uninjured shoulder. The movement drove him even deeper, pulling a moan from both of them in unison. He must have found the exact spot, because Calvin’s eyes rolled back in pure abandonment, his body trembling with pleasure. Feeling the reaction, Andre intensified his movements, each thrust firmer, deeper, punishing and amplifying the sensation that made Calvin tremble and mutter meaningless sounds.

“Oh, my God… Andre… I’m going… I’m almost…” Cal’s voice broke into a sob as his back arched, his fists gripping the wet earth as if he needed something to anchor him.

“I have you… I have you… come to me, schatz.” Andre tilted his hips back and thrust again even harder, eliciting a strangled moan from Cal that spread through the air like a stuck scream. His body convulsed in spasms, his eyes rolled back, lost, and his breath came in choppy gasps. Pleasure consumed him completely, spilling over every fragment of his strength. Exhausted, Andre fell against the blonde, the two intertwined in the heavy post-ecstasy breaths, sweat clinging to their skin.

They remained glued for a few minutes, allowing their breaths to calm, bodies still intertwined. When Andre withdrew, Cal shivered and let out small moans. With slow, trembling movements, Andre adjusted his pants and used the red scarf from his wrist to clean him. After tossing the scarf aside and helping Cal into his underwear, Andre fell beside him on the forest floor, the two wrapped in heavy, intimate silence.

“I can’t believe we just did that in a forest.” Andre broke the silence, mixing disbelief with a hint of indignation. Cal laughed, shaking his head.

“Shit, it was kind of disgusting.”

They looked at each other and laughed like idiots, letting the quiet be filled with laughter.

“I want to go back home,” Cal said softly, still panting, pupils dilated, face flushed.

“It was you who left, I didn’t kick you out,” Andre replied calmly, noting a fact without accusation.

“I know… but I miss Korn… I want to go back, Dre.” Cal shifted to his space, facing Andre, their faces just centimeters apart.

“He misses you too,” Andre murmured without looking away. Korn, the cat they had taken in a year ago, seemed like a living memory between them.

“Do you really feel it?” Cal asked in a whisper, eyes wide and disarming.

“A lot.” Andre’s gaze flicked to Cal’s pink lips, which curved into a small, biased smile.

“So… can I come back?”

“You always could.”

Cal’s smile widened, revealing teeth and dimples, before he leaned in and kissed Andre. This time, it was slow, tender. The desperation from before was gone. Andre no longer cared about the reason for their fight—it had been stupid. Cal, impulsive as always; Andre, taken by anger. This time, though, it had been worse than usual, and Cal had left in another impetuous gesture.

Now, none of that mattered. Not when Cal was back in his arms, not when his skin pressed against him, not when their lips sought each other with the urgency of someone who had already been lost. The rest of the world could burn—Andre didn’t care.

It didn’t matter that Cal had stabbed him in the shoulder, nor the throbbing pain that followed every movement. This pain was a reminder that Cal was still there—real, violent, imperfect, and his.

He would endure.

For Cal, he would support anything: the blade, the blood, the instability, the impulsiveness, the possessiveness. He had already hurt himself so many times because of him; what would be another scar?

Andre felt Cal tug at his hair to deepen the kiss but gently pushed him back, foreheads touching in a brief sigh.

“Cal… let’s go, okay? Put on your pants. We need to get out of this damn forest.”

Cal let out a low laugh, still panting.

“Okay… because we need a shower urgently. We’re disgusting.”

The blonde sat on the ground, awkwardly dressing, wrapping his legs and nearly tripping. Andre got up, clapping the dirt off his jeans, a kind of angry smile forming on his lips. The forest still surrounded them, and he needed a bath. Andre handed Cal his pants, which he quickly put on, dressing with surprising agility. In seconds, he was fully up, shaking off the clinging dirt.

Looking at Cal now, he was a complete mess: dried blood scattered along his neck and face, hair wild and soaked with sweat. Still, it was a beautiful mess. Andre couldn’t understand how he could be so irresistible in this state, but he was—and seeing him like that made Andre want to do it all over again.

“You look horrible,” Andre commented with a debauched smile, eyes sparkling with provocation as he watched Cal’s incredulous expression.

“You are too!” Cal replied, pushing him playfully on the wound. The moan of pain from Andre was followed by a muffled laugh.

“Son of a bitch,” he growled, mixing pain with fun. “I won’t forget that you stabbed me with a damn pocket knife.”

“And you gave me a headbutt!”

“Because you were trying to kill me!”

“Oh, please, don’t be dramatic. I wasn’t trying to kill you,” Cal snorted, crossing his arms.

“You literally said you were going to kill me, Cal.”

“I didn’t say that, no!”

“You said it, yes!”

“Well, maybe I said it… but I corrected myself and said I was going to kill the bitch… I still want to.”

“My God, forget her, okay? She’s kind of cool. Let’s just leave,” Andre said, turning his back and walking between the trees.

“Now you’re defending her?” Cal growled, stepping firmly behind him.

“No, Cal. I’m just telling you to quit it. I’m with you now, right? Not with her. It’s not even her fault—I brought her into this, okay? And you’ve already stabbed me because of it.” Andre spoke, eyes scanning the darkness as he tried to figure out their path. He remembered the flashlight, took it out, and turned it on, its beam cutting through the shadows between the trees. With each step, he felt Cal’s anger growing behind him, almost tangible.

“Oh, so she must be really special for you to defend her so fiercely,” Cal said, voice full of sarcasm and provocation. Andre couldn’t hold back a smile. He turned quickly, and Cal hit his chest—but Andre was faster, holding him firmly by the waist.

“You look so cute when you’re jealous, like an angry kitten,” Andre said, clearly teasing, while Cal rolled his eyes.

“You’ll see the cute kitten when I stick my pocket knife in her eye.” Cal’s words made Andre’s smile widen; he closed the distance with a firm movement, holding Cal’s chin in one hand, forcing him to maintain eye contact.

“Listen to me. You don’t have to worry about anyone. Since high school, you’ve been the only person who mattered to me, and nothing will change that. She means absolutely nothing. You don’t need to raise a knife for me; no one will ever be able to take me away from you.” The words softened Cal’s expression, and his body gave in, surrendering to the warmth of Andre’s hands.

“You’re the only person for me, too,” Cal murmured, his face flushed.

“That sounded so gay, ew.” Andre laughed, pulling a face.

“We literally just fucked and that’s what you call gay?” Cal arched an eyebrow, incredulous.

“The sex was less gay than that,” he said, smiling crookedly.

“Oh, for God’s sake… shut up.” Cal stifled a laugh and pulled Andre toward him; Andre gladly returned the kiss.

Cal’s hands lost themselves in Andre’s hair and at the nape of his neck, scratching, pulling, deepening every touch.

In a quick movement, Andre pressed Cal against the tree behind him, holding him tight. Cal gasped, surprised by the heat and the almost suffocating closeness. Andre’s kisses spread across the blond’s neck, sucking and biting—each touch burning like fire.

“Andre… I need you.”

“I know, I know.”

“Not just the sex, not enough. I need to fuse with you… feel you on my skin, in every inch of me—inside, outside… I don’t care… I just need you.” Cal murmured, needy, his hands tangled in Andre’s hair.

“I know, schatz, me too. But we can’t do that now.” Andre said, nipping at the blond’s neck with his mouth, each touch scorching Cal’s skin.

“But it’s been so long… I don’t want you to stop touching me.” Cal murmured between soft moans, his body trembling at every contact.

Andre breathed in deeply and forced himself to pull back from Cal’s neck, facing him, half out of breath. “When we get home, Cal… I swear I won’t leave your side.”

“Promise?” Cal asked, using those doe eyes.

“I promise, but at home.”

“At home?” Cal said, glancing between Andre’s mouth and his eyes.

“At home.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

They started kissing again—teeth clashing, Cal grabbing Andre by the hair, chest to chest, while Andre pressed him against the tree.

Suddenly, a scream cut through the forest—high, terrified, so intense that, if they’d been closer, it would have hurt their eardrums.

They both froze instantly, looking toward the trees from where the sound had come. Instinctively, he tightened his hold on Cal.

“What the hell was that?” Andre asked rhetorically, eyes scanning for movement.

“Maybe some idiot messing around…”

“No… this is weird… we should check it out.”

“Are you insane? We’re in a forest at night, on Halloween—you hear a scream and want to go toward it? How many horror movies have we seen?”

“It might be someone hurt, Cal. I’m a hunter, remember? I have to check this shit.” Cal didn’t look happy at his decision, glaring incredulously.

“Okay, let’s just check. If we don’t find anything, we leave, okay?”

“Fine, fine—seriously, you’re so dumb sometimes. If we die because of some psycho in the woods, I’ll haunt you in hell.” Cal snorted, digging his hand into his pocket and pulling out another pocketknife.

“You have another knife? What’s wrong with you?” Andre clenched his jaw, eyes hard.

“My problem? We’d both have two of them now if you hadn’t thrown them away.” Cal answered, tired but stubborn.

“First, I threw them away because you were trying to stab me with them; and second—give me that.” Andre was quick, snatching the knife from Cal’s hand.

“What? Give it back!” Cal lunged, but Andre raised his arm, keeping it away and holding the blond’s chest with his other hand.

“No way. I’ve disarmed you twice. Imagine some crazy person rushing you—you’d die.” Andre’s voice sounded like an order, but his look betrayed worry.

“That’s bullshit. I can defend myself!” Cal insisted, hands trembling with nerves.

“Just leave it to me. Only one of us works out — and you’re terrified of any exercise.”

“That’s not true!” Cal snapped, voice getting high.

“Oh really? Then tell me: what physical activity do you do every day?” Andre tightened his grip but softened his tone.

Cal hesitated, looking away. “I do… um…” He sighed, face reddening. “Okay, fine… you can keep the knife. But I’m not anyone’s damsel in distress.”

Andre smiled.

“I know.” He leaned in and stole a quick kiss, as if he needed Cal’s taste to steady him.

“Let’s sort this out and go home,” he said firmly.

Cal huffed but nodded. Andre put the knife in his pocket, took Calvin’s hand, and they walked together, pressed against one another, toward the echoing scream.

                                           ♱

They’d been moving through the trees for minutes that felt like an eternity. The forest wrapped them in a suffocating silence, like something crouched, watching. Each step thickened the air, the rustle of leaves sounding more like a whisper than natural noise. Andre walked ahead, the flashlight in his hand cutting the darkness with a trembling beam.

“Seriously, we’ve been walking for like twenty minutes. This is a terrible idea… we could just leave and let whoever it is die, I don’t know,” Cal muttered.

“What made me fall for you was your morality, darling. Truly charming. I’ve never met anyone so empathetic,” Andre said ironically, his lips curved in an almost cruel smile. He kept Cal close behind him, as if he needed to protect him.

He felt he needed to.

“Hypocrite. Talk as if you had any morals.” Cal tugged his hand, forcing him to look at him. “Honestly, Dre… we find nothing, my hip hurts and I don’t want to walk anymore. This damn forest is giving me chills.”

Cal stared at him with those doe eyes—the kind that always asked for something and now seemed to pierce Andre.

“Okay… fine. Let’s go back.” Andre relented.

Cal flashed a quick, victorious smile like a bared tooth. “Oh, thank God, I—”

A crackle of dry leaves cut him off. Something moved near a tree, hidden in the bushes. In an instant, both turned, eyes wide, hearts pounding toward the noise.

Andre pulled the knife from his pocket with a quick, instinctive motion, stepping so Cal stood behind him. Cal frowned, clearly unsettled, but didn’t protest. The darkness felt denser, nearly suffocating, and the silence that followed was heavy, almost tangible. The bush remained still, as if waiting.

Andre moved slowly toward the tree, feeling Cal like a shadow pressed behind him. Before he could think, he closed the distance, pointing the knife and the flashlight at the spot behind the tree.

What the light revealed was not what he had expected: a blond girl, curled up, hands covering her face, trying to shield herself from the bright beam. A deadly silence fell over them.

“Casey?” Andre’s voice was low, nearly swallowed by the oppressive forest quiet—tense, laced with worry.

“Perfect.” Cal muttered behind him, teeth clenched.

“André? You shouldn’t be here… be quiet, turn that flashlight off!” she whispered, voice shaking, eyes wide with terror. Without hesitation, Andre switched off the flashlight and slipped it and the knife into his pocket, plunging them into near-total darkness bathed only by the full moon.

“What’s happening, Casey?” Andre whispered, anxiety tightening his chest with every silent second.

“There’s something here… it got Jordan. I couldn’t see properly, it was too fast. One moment she was beside me, the next… she was gone.” She babbled, words tripping over sobs; tears traced her face, glinting briefly before falling.

“Was it a damn bear?”

“There aren’t bears here, Cal.”

“It wasn’t a bear! I can’t explain… it was huge, furry, and so fast…”

Andre could feel panic sliding through his veins as every distant snap in the forest threatened something they weren’t prepared for.

“Shit, shit, shit… I told you this was a terrible idea, Andre. I swear, if we get out of here alive, I’ll kill you.” Cal rambled, voice shaking; the panic in his words made Andre even tenser.

“Cal, try to calm down. It’s probably an animal; we’ve handled animals before, remember? Milena’s in my car.”

“But your car is far away, Andre!” Cal whispered, agitated, raking his hands through his hair.

“We’ll have to go back, but it should be empty; everyone should be waiting at the church. Damn.” Andre scanned the darkness between the trees, trying to turn fear into a plan. “We can’t just stand here.”

Casey murmured through sobs, “What if Jordan needs help?” a fragile thread of hope cutting through the panic.

“Girl, wake up: your friend’s dead and torn apart!” Cal’s words dropped like stones, making her curl in on herself.

“Cal.” Andre warned.

“What?” He stared at him, irritation burning like fire and jealousy crawling along Cal’s skin, palpable even at a distance.

“Take it easy.” Andre said, voice steady and controlled; he couldn’t handle a wild animal and Cal throwing himself at someone at the same time.

Before any flare of possessiveness could explode, Andre moved closer, eyes firm, hands gentle, cupping Cal’s face and forcing him to look. “I know you’re pissed,” he whispered. “But you need to calm down. If you lose it, I lose it too. And then… nothing will be left. Remember what I told you? Only you. Always.”

For a moment, only heavy breaths and the dense air between them could be heard.

Cal stared, eyes half-closed, anger still burning, but something else flickered—fragile, unexpected: a thread of surrender, almost tenderness. “Stop looking at me like that… damn it…” he muttered, averting his gaze, jaw tight. A heavy, defeated sigh escaped. “Okay. I’ll calm down… I remember.” Andre smiled slowly and brushed Cal’s cheek with a brief, almost delicate kiss before turning his attention to the others.

“Okay, let’s check our phones. See if there’s signal… I doubt it, but we should check. I’ve got a gun in the car. It’ll be easier to go back there than walk to the church, it’s farther,” Andre said, pulling his phone from his pocket with a steady motion. Cal mirrored his movements, eyes sharp, body tense.

Casey huddled, hugging her knees, body trembling. Sniffling, she whispered, “I lost mine… it must have fallen when I was running,” voice small and sad.

Andre nodded, gaze fixed on the screen, jaw tight. “Alright, no problem… I’ve got no signal anyway,” he murmured, a low, controlled sound. “And you, Cal?”

Cal grunted, lips pressed. He raised his phone—no signal blinked in the corner.

“Great… just what I expected,” Andre said, his calm tone chillingly even, frustration simmering beneath.

“I feel like I’m in a Friday the 13th movie… my dream finally coming true,” Cal joked darkly, shoving his phone into his pocket and crossing his arms.

Andre, used to Cal’s comments, barely reacted. He turned to Casey, curled against the tree trunk, pale and hands shaking. The cold wind cut through the night; the rustle of leaves sounded too loud in the thick silence.

“We should start moving,” he said finally, voice low and firm. “You alright, Casey?”

She looked at him, unfocused, as if not fully present.

“Yes… I think so,” she said, leaning on the tree to stand, movements slow and hesitant, avoiding eye contact. She seemed lost in her own skin, making Andre even more anxious.

If it were Cal being attacked—and not Jordan—he didn’t know how he’d react. He didn’t want to think about it. The mere idea terrified him.

“Oh my God… are you okay? Is that blood?” Casey suddenly seemed to really see them; her eyes widened at the sight of Andre’s shirt, now red from a shoulder wound he had forgotten about.

“Uh… I’m fine… I just slipped on a rock.” He improvised, trying to sound confident.

“Let me see.” Casey leaned in, reaching for his shoulder, but Cal stepped forward swiftly, grabbing her wrist mid-air. Her arm hung suspended like a puppet’s.

“Touch him and I swear you’ll be this animal’s next snack!” Cal threatened, teeth clenched, body taut as if every muscle readied to attack.

“Calvin.” Andre’s voice cut through, firm, controlled, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him.

“You’re hurting my wrist!” Casey protested, trying to pull away, voice trembling, eyes swimming between fear and anger.

“That’s enough!” Andre stepped forward suddenly, gripping Cal by the hips and pulling him back firmly—not enough to hurt, but enough to show he was at the limit. “Didn’t we agree you wouldn’t do that?” His low, cutting voice was a contained threat. Cal glared back, eyes narrowed, chest heaving as if fighting the impulse.

“Then tell that bitch not to touch other people’s boyfriends,” he spat, venom in his tone. His gaze slid to Casey, who stepped back, confused.

“Boyfriend?” The word escaped in a shocked whisper. “You have a boyfriend?”

Perfect. Exactly the kind of scene he’d wanted to avoid—chaos in the middle of nowhere, a wild animal out there, and a drama blowing up here.

“Yes, he does. So you better keep your hands to yourself.” Cal’s voice was quick and icy before Andre could speak.

Casey blinked, bewildered. “Then why were you out with me?”

“Look…” Andre rubbed his face, exhausted. “Technically, we started talking again like… an hour ago. I don’t have patience for this right now.”

“So you’re gay.”

Cal’s short laugh snapped. “You better watch your mouth. Christ, the bitch is homophobic… great.”

“Stop calling me a bitch!” Casey screamed, voice breaking like glass—red-faced, eyes wide, throat raw from crying; fear turned to a burning rage.

“I’m calling it like it is,” Cal snarled, each word spat with contempt; his stare was a blade.

Andre closed his eyes for a moment and sighed—heavy, defeated. He hadn’t known Casey had issues with queer people—but in the end, he shouldn’t be surprised. Small-town, hardcore-Christian upbringing didn’t breed much else. He also had a rep for dating people who looked angelic and were rotten inside.

“And what are you then? A disgusting fag? You’ll burn in hell.” Casey hurled the words, fingers clenched, body trembling between horror and the need to lash out.

Cal laughed—short and sharp. “Oh, you’ll be the disgusting fag, you bitch.” Cal lunged as if to rip her head off, and Andre moved fast, wrapping his arm around his midsection.

Cal struggled, pushing and kicking verbally: “Let me go, damn it! I’ll kill her!” His voice cracked like a whip.

“No. That’s enough.” Andre cut through once more, firmer, sharper. He felt his heart pounding like a trapped animal; his palms burned from holding Cal, from stopping the scene from spinning into something worse. “I couldn’t care less about your piety. If you want to die here alone, die— we’re leaving.” Perhaps at another time he’d be angrier at Casey for insulting them, but now he was more scared—there was an animal out there attacking people.

Those words dropped like an ultimatum. The silence that followed was thick, heavy. Casey’s eyes widened in betrayal, her pleading turning to stupefaction. “You can’t leave me here!” Her voice faltered, swallowed by disbelief.

Cal gave a humorless half-smile, his stare as cold as burning metal. “You think so? Watch.” The reply sounded like steel being drawn from a sheath.

When Casey spat venom and despair, “You like that, don’t you? You queers are all selfish sinners,”

“If heaven is full of unbearable bitches like you,” Cal said with a malicious smile, “then hell will be my paradise.”

“I’ll pray for you.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, I don’t want your—”

The argument faded as Andre noticed two red points shining between the trees, in the darkness behind Casey. A cold shiver ran down his spine, freezing his blood. His heart hammered, muffled, in his chest.

“Cal,” he murmured, low and tense, not moving a muscle.

The thing shifted. Slowly.

A shaft of moonlight slipped through the canopy, revealing enough to freeze Andre: thick, black fur, drenched and dark; muscles rippling. A wolf. A huge wolf. Red eyes gleamed in the darkness. Something that shouldn’t exist, that shouldn’t be real.

“No! I want that bitch—”

“Cal!” she cried out sharply, panic creeping into her voice. Cal, following Andre’s gaze, turned slowly. The wolf stood there—still for a moment, massive, an absolute predator.

“Shit, shit, shit.” The blond murmured, swallowing hard.

“Casey, don’t move.”

His voice was steady but failed to hide the tremor running through his body. Every fiber screamed to run, but he couldn’t. He remembered the advice he’d read: never run from a wild wolf. This… was no ordinary wolf. Every step, every breath could be the last.

“Don’t turn. Just walk forward, slowly.”

Casey gasped, eyes wide, heart pounding. Every movement felt impossible; the ground seemed alive beneath her feet.

“Cal, back. Slowly. No one runs.”

His heart hammered, echoing like a war drum. The wolf remained poised, muscles taut as cords ready to snap. Its eyes glowed, cold and predatory, watching every hesitation.

“What is it? What animal is that?” Casey whispered, voice breaking, swallowed by fear.

“A wolf.”

The word fell like a hammer. The deadly silence that followed compressed the air, making each breath painful.

“A huge fucking wolf… we’re going to die,” Cal whispered, panic infecting Casey. She began to sob, clutching herself.

“Shut up! Be quiet.” Andre moved forward slowly, each step measured, as if the ground itself could betray them. His eyes never left the predator ahead, shining in the dim night. He gripped Cal’s wrist hard enough to control him but not hurt—if they needed to run, he’d drag Cal with him without a second thought. He felt Cal’s heartbeat—rapid and unsteady—pounding under his fingers.

“I… I still have so much to live for… I haven’t even finished college…” Casey sobbed, swallowing each terrified sentence, body shaking, lungs burning.

“Shut up, damn it!” Cal gritted his teeth, jaw tight. Every muscle vibrated, ready to react to the wolf.

The animal’s scent dominated the air: wet earth, damp fur, a metallic tang—like death had its own perfume. The wolf stood still… but its gleaming eyes never wavered. Every movement was measured, calculated, waiting for the slightest slip.

“Just go slowly,” Andre whispered, and they resumed moving, almost crawling through the trees. The silence was shattered by the crack of a breaking branch. Andre looked down: Casey had stepped on a dry twig. His heart leapt.

He raised his eyes and saw the wolf ready to spring. Every fiber of his body screamed danger.

Shit.

“Run! Run! Run!”

Andre grabbed Cal by the wrist, dragging him through the forest. Branches cracked, roots tangled around their feet, and the cold wind sliced through their skin like knives. The freezing air burned their lungs; each breath was painful, almost impossible. Cal ran beside him, breathing fast and uneven, eyes wide with fear.

Then, a dry crash echoed through the leaves. Something had fallen. Andre looked back and saw Casey on the ground, motionless for a moment.

“Help me!!” she screamed, sobbing, tears running down her face. But Andre couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t risk the wolf getting Cal.

The wolf advanced on Casey like a living shadow. The blast of air nearly knocked Andre down, burning his lungs and raising goosebumps across every inch of his body. The smell of iron and death was so strong it nearly made him vomit. He looked back and saw the wolf tearing at Casey’s arm. Terror froze his heart, a deep cold that seemed to pierce every bone. Cal was beside him, eyes wide, breathing frantically, unable to believe what he was seeing.

“Andre… shit, shit!” Cal nearly choked on his own fear. Each second felt like an eternity. The forest, once silent, now vibrated with the predator’s roars and the sound of flesh being crushed under its claws. Every trunk, every branch, every shadow seemed to move on its own, turning the forest into a deadly labyrinth.

Andre couldn’t stop. The Ford was just a few minutes away — the gun, inside it. His father had given it to him as a hunting gift — he never imagined he’d have to use it against a giant wolf capable of ripping lives apart in seconds.

He grabbed Cal’s arm tightly and pulled him forward, dodging branches that cut like blades.

“Don’t look back, Cal! Just run! We need to reach the car!” Andre’s voice faltered, swallowed by the sound of his own labored breathing.

“We’re gonna die, shit! That thing’s gonna tear us apart, Andre!” Cal shouted, stumbling.

“We’re not gonna die! Just run! That abomination is busy devouring Casey!”

Cal let out a short, nervous, almost hysterical laugh. “You know… I’d even celebrate her death if we weren’t the next meal.”

“This is not the time, Cal!” Andre yanked him sharply to the side, preventing him from hitting a low branch. Cal stumbled, wobbled, but stayed on his feet. The sound of their steps mixed with the crackle of wet leaves and the distant growl that reverberated through the forest like thunder.

“I know… I know! I’m nervous, damn it!” Cal gasped, his voice wavering between fear and despair.

The minutes they spent running through the forest, dodging roots, branches, and bushes, felt like an eternity. Andre’s heart pounded in his chest so hard he swore Cal could hear it. Each breath was a harsh strike against the cold, dense air, saturated with the metallic smell of blood and wet earth.

He heard nothing — no growls, no rustling, no cracking of branches behind them.

Maybe the wolf had been satisfied with Casey’s flesh. Maybe it had gone away.

Andre wanted to believe that, cling to any spark of hope… but deep down, he knew it was a lie. A rotten, fragile, useless consolation.

That thing didn’t seem hungry — it seemed too alive for that.

It didn’t eat out of necessity. It hunted.

It killed because it wanted to.

He exhaled in relief when he finally saw the open field of the clearing. The space seemed to promise salvation — just a few more meters, and they’d be out of the forest, out of the reach of that thing.

But then came the growl.

A low, distant sound, enough to freeze Andre’s breath. A shiver ran down his spine, as if every muscle sensed it before his mind did.

“Cal, run faster, now!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the heavy forest air.

Cal was already at his limit; every step seemed sustained only by pure adrenaline. Andre felt his own body pulse in the same intensity, muscles rigid, heart pounding like a war drum. Every second dragged as if the forest itself were holding time.

The clearing was there, so close, but there were no guarantees. The sense of safety was just a thin thread, ready to snap at any moment.

They passed the last tree separating them from the opening. Moonlight bathed the clearing, reflecting off a few abandoned cars, still and silent. Among them, Andre’s truck gleamed under the moon, a promise of salvation amid chaos.

Without hesitation, he pulled Cal, shaking him from hesitation, and sprinted toward the vehicle. The ground cracked beneath their feet, branches scraped their skin, and their breathing echoed through the night like gunfire. The cold wind carried the damp smell of the forest, and even with the clearing ahead, the distant roar of the wolf reminded them the threat still pursued them.

When they reached the side of the truck, Andre released Cal’s wrist only to frantically search his pockets for the keys. Finding them, he closed his eyes for a moment and kissed them, a silly gesture of relief and superstition.

Still gasping, he opened the driver’s door, the metallic click echoing into the silent night, and pulled the gun from under the seat, feeling the reassuring weight of temporary safety. Every muscle remained tense, every sense alert — they weren’t safe, but at least now they had a chance to fight.

Cal was gasping, hands on his knees beside him.

“Cal, get in the car. Maybe we can get out before that thing reaches here.”

“Ok,” he said, sighing, and ran quickly to the passenger side.

Andre got into the truck without hesitation, starting the engine.

Cal opened the passenger door and began to speak: “I’m never going into a forest—”

His sentence was abruptly cut off as he fell to the ground and was dragged away, screaming, disappearing from Andre’s view.

Cal’s scream cut through the night like a knife. Andre ran behind the truck, gun raised, heart pounding like a frantic drum. The wolf held Calvin with sharp teeth, dragging him over the dirt and dry branches while he screamed in agony.

Moonlight reflected on the predator’s black fur, its red eyes glowing like fresh blood, hungry and cruel. Each step of the wolf broke branches, scattering leaves and twigs across the ground, making Andre stumble slightly, but he stayed firm.

“Cal! Hang on, damn it!” Andre shouted, running, fingers gripping the trigger, muscles tense like ropes about to snap. He couldn’t miss; he couldn’t let the shot hit Cal.

The wolf growled, its jaw cracking, sharp teeth sinking into Calvin’s flesh, ripping pieces of his jacket and tearing the skin. The metallic smell of blood burned Andre’s nostrils. Calvin kicked and struggled, screaming, but it only made the beast bite deeper, shaking him like a cruel toy. Each shake tore out a muffled scream and a trail of blood that dripped onto the damp ground.

Andre breathed with difficulty, heart pounding. He felt the weight of the gun in his hand, fingers trembling with fear and rage, but he couldn’t hesitate. Calvin couldn’t die like this, torn apart by a wild animal, not with him here. He had promised he’d take care of Cal — and he would.

The forest’s silence was ripped apart by snapping branches, tearing flesh, and Calvin’s agonized screams echoing grotesquely among the trees. Andre crouched, every muscle alert, approaching as closely as he could without risking hitting Cal. He aimed at the wolf’s back, feeling the cold barrel of the gun against his sweaty hand.

Strangely, the wolf released Calvin’s leg, who let out a sharp scream as blood poured, the flesh marked and torn by the beast’s teeth. Andre’s heart pounded with worry. The animal’s gaze was cold, aware, almost intelligent, staring at Andre as if it knew what he was about to do. The predator’s growl grew, filled with threat, reverberating through the clearing.

Without hesitation, Andre pulled the trigger as the wolf lunged.

The gunshot exploded into the night, vibrating through the air and the trees. The bullet struck the predator’s back, tearing flesh and skin, opening a deep hole that made the wolf howl in pain — a guttural, bestial sound, piercing the bones of anyone who heard. Blood sprayed, staining the ground and nearby tree trunks, while the metallic, hot smell of the wound spread.

The wolf staggered, the pierced skin pulsing with every movement, muscles convulsing in agony. With a final growl of rage and pain, it retreated, disappearing back into the darkness of the forest. The trail of carnage it left still lingered in the air. The metallic smell of blood infused the clearing, mixed with damp earth and the heavy silence of the forest.

Andre swallowed hard, heart racing, and ran to Cal, who lay on the ground, trembling, crying in pain.

“Hey… hey, darling, I’m here. You’re gonna be okay,” he murmured, crouching beside him. His gaze fixed on Cal’s pierced leg, blood streaming, tears in his clothes and scratches marking every inch of his body. Cal’s face was flushed from tears, chest rising and falling with rapid, painful breaths.

“It hurts, Andre, it hurts!” the scream came out muffled, mixed with sobs and moans that tore through the night like knives.

Andre swallowed his fear, feeling the weight of responsibility crush his chest. “I’m gonna lift you, okay? I need to get you in the car, take you to the hospital.” He slung the gun strap over his shoulder and passed his arms under Cal’s body, feeling the intense tremor, every muscle rigid, every painful sigh. Cal was so submerged in pain he didn’t even notice when he was lifted.

Blood streamed down his leg, mixing with mud, dripping onto Andre’s shoes, but he couldn’t stop. He stepped firmly on the ground, each step a battle, and carried Cal to the truck, doors still open.

Cal whimpered in Andre’s arms, eyes half-closed, body trembling, nearly surrendering to unconsciousness. Andre’s heart raced, despair tightening his throat.

“Cal, hey! Don’t sleep, don’t sleep! You have to stay awake, stay with me, okay?” Cal only murmured, a faint voice of agreement, but didn’t fully open his eyes.

When they reached the truck, Andre carefully placed Cal on the seat, gently pushing him back, giving space for the injured leg. Blood had soaked his pants, and the pain showed in every breath. He held Cal’s face in his hands, shaking him gently.

“Cal, stay awake, please! You can’t sleep now, I won’t let this happen, shit.” Andre shouted, hitting Cal’s face to open his eyes.

“I’m just resting my eyes, Dre…” Cal moaned, voice weak, mixed with pain and sobs. Blood ran down his leg, soaking the seat and dripping onto the truck floor, leaving a red trail.

“Don’t rest your damn eyes!” Andre yelled, slamming the door and practically flying into the driver’s seat. Every muscle in his body was tense, nerves on edge, the metallic smell of blood and earth filling his nostrils.

He tossed the gun behind the seat and stomped on the pedal, feeling the truck groan and shake, the engine roaring. Cal curled up in the seat, teeth clenched, breathing with difficulty, each moan tightening Andre’s chest.

The truck roared into the night.

“Hold on tight,” Andre said, trying to sound calm — but his hands betrayed his fear. His knuckles were white on the wheel.

The car tore out of the clearing, kicking up clouds of dirt and leaves that cut through the humid air like blades. The engine’s roar echoed through the night, heavy, suffocating, mixed with the rustle of the trees passing like shadows. The metallic smell of blood already dominated the interior of the truck.

Every bump in the road made Cal shiver, and the blood ran faster, staining the seat, dripping onto the floor in small, wet pops.

“Talk to me, darling. Anything.”

Andre’s voice faltered, hoarse, caught between fear and urgency. He gripped the steering wheel until his fingers hurt, pressing the accelerator harder. He took the turn sharply, and Cal slammed against the door, letting out a low moan, almost a whimper.

“You know… out of all the ways I thought I’d die… this definitely wasn’t one of them.” Cal murmured, breathing unevenly, the words blending with the sound of the engine.

“Shut up, Cal! You’re not going to die, damn it!”

“You told me to talk… now… you tell me to shut up? Make up your mind.”

Andre huffed, eyes locked on the dirt road winding through the trees. The wheel trembled under his sweaty hands.

“You’re impossible. Even when everything’s fucked up.”

Cal laughed—a weak, broken laugh, which quickly turned into coughing and groans of pain. The sound echoed through the car like a crack inside Andre’s chest.

For a moment, he looked away from the road. Just a moment.

And what he saw was enough for fear to bite deep: the blood flowing in dark waves, Cal’s face too pale, his eyes still trying to smile as if mocking death.

Anxiety burned inside him, alive, corrosive. Cal seemed paler with every passing second. Andre pressed the accelerator, but the engine was already at its limit.

Flashes of Cal’s leg returned.

There was so much blood it was impossible to see where the skin ended and the wound began. It was bad. Too bad.

If the creature had bitten longer, maybe the leg would have been torn off.

The thought made Andre’s stomach churn.

He felt the other’s pain as if it were his own—a sharp, stabbing pain that climbed through his body and lodged in his chest.

“Stay with me, please.” He didn’t realize he had spoken aloud.

Cal just hummed in response—a faint, almost childish sound, too hoarse to be comforting. He seemed too exhausted to speak.

The main road was just ahead.

Andre tightened his grip on the wheel, eyes fixed on the headlights flickering in the darkness. When he hit the curb, he turned sharply.

The car skidded, raising a cloud of dust and stones, the wheels leaving deep marks on the asphalt. For a second, the vehicle lifted off the ground—then the impact. The metallic sound of the chassis hitting the road. He exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and mentally thanked that there were no other cars around.

“Just a few minutes and we’ll be in the city.”

He glanced quickly at Cal. The blond’s head was resting against the window, eyes closed, and the sight made Andre’s heart race.

“Cal!” He shouted, his voice cutting through the engine’s roar and the rushing trees. But the blond didn’t respond.

Fear gripped Andre’s chest. Heart in his throat, he pulled a hand from the wheel and pressed his fingers against Cal’s wrist. There was a pulse. Weak, but there.

He let out a trembling sigh of relief and gently tapped the blond’s face.

“Cal, wake up! Damn it, don’t scare me like that!”

Cal slowly moved his eyes, half-closed, letting out low, confused murmurs. The blond still looked exhausted, but at least he was responsive.

Andre kept his hand firmly on Calvin’s wrist, feeling the weak pulse beat against his fingers—irregular, but alive. Each beat was a reminder that he was still here.

The car tore down the road like a bullet. The engine roared, the chassis shook, and the landscape passed in dark blurs. Andre knew he was far above the speed limit, but it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered.

Only Cal.

The city lights appeared on the horizon, flickering through the dust raised by the tires. For a second, he almost thought he was hallucinating. Then he saw—the welcome sign, illuminated by the headlights, cutting through the mist like a warning.

He passed it in the blink of an eye. The city was silent. Empty. The wet streets reflected the glow of the street lamps, painting everything in shades of gold and orange. The clock on the dashboard read almost three in the morning. Andre swallowed hard.

Later, maybe he’d thank every god he knew that the hospital was downtown.

But for now, all he could do was keep his foot on the gas.

The car skidded on the corner, raising a cloud of dust and water from the wet streets. Andre held the wheel steady, breathing fast, eyes fixed on the building ahead: “UConn Health Urgent Care” glowing in the darkness.

His heart pounded in his chest—faster even than Cal’s weak pulse under his fingers. Each beat was a painful reminder that time was against them.

He slowed just enough not to hit the curb, but his foot stayed firm on the accelerator. Adrenaline burned in his veins, mixed with the metallic smell of blood spread throughout the car, suffocating him with every breath.

When he saw the hospital entrance ahead, he stretched his arms over Cal, pressing him against the seat to prevent him from hitting the dashboard. Every movement seemed like it could break him, but Andre held firm.

Then he slammed the brakes with all his might. The tires screamed against the wet asphalt, sending up sparks and a small cloud of steam. The car shuddered, each impact echoing like a drum in Andre’s chest.

Cal leaned forward, and he held the blond carefully, feeling his fragile body vibrate against his arm. His heart pounded in his ears.

Finally, the car stopped. The silence that followed was almost deafening, broken only by Andre’s ragged breathing and Cal’s faint sigh.

He didn’t waste time. He jumped out of the car with a brusque movement, slamming the door, and ran to the passenger side. He opened the door and lifted Cal into his arms, feeling the blond’s light, fragile body against his own. Each step was careful—he tried to protect Cal’s injured leg from any impact.

The car was left behind. The glass doors of the emergency room appeared ahead. Andre quickened his pace, each step reverberating against Cal’s frail body. The blond’s eyes were closed, breathing irregularly, each sigh a thin thread between life and death.

Finally, he reached the entrance and pushed open the glass doors.

The nurses at the reception stared, eyes wide, as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing, before moving quickly.

“Help him, damn it!” Andre shouted, his voice cutting through the cold, blood-filled air, as the nurses brought a stretcher. He didn’t hesitate; he placed Cal on it carefully but almost felt the blond’s injured leg hit his own body.

“What’s his name, son? And what happened to him?” asked the nurse, voice firm, eyes wide. Her gray hair was tied in a loose bun, and the wrinkles on her face revealed years of exhaustion.

“Calvin Gabriel… an animal… a wolf… attacked.” Andre replied, panting, his throat raw, as the doctors took the unconscious Cal and dragged him down the corridor. He tried to follow, but someone held his arms firmly.

“Sir, you’ll have to wait here.”

“What? Let me see him, damn it!” Andre’s voice broke, mixing anger, fear, and desperation.

“You’ll have to calm down and wait. We’ll do our best to help your friend. Are you injured?” asked the nurse, looking at his blood-stained clothes, dried blood forming dark patches.

“Just a cut on my shoulder,” Andre replied, feeling the warmth of the still-wet blood on his skin, but not caring. There was blood everywhere on him, mostly Cal’s, and the metallic smell filled his nostrils.

“All right, I need you to tell me his date of birth, if he has allergies, medications he takes, and any relevant medical history,” said the nurse, voice firm, handing Andre a form. “After that, I’ll take care of your cut while you wait for news about your friend.”

Andre didn’t care about formalities or the cut on his shoulder. All he wanted was to be with Cal, to feel he was alive. But he knew he had to fill out the paperwork or he would be stopped from following him.

Hesitant, he nodded, grabbed the form and pen, and went to the nearest chair. Each step felt like a massive weight, and the metallic smell of blood mixed with disinfectant burned his nostrils.

♱

After filling out the forms, the nurse led him to a room and had him sit on a stretcher.

“Take off your shirt,” she said, her voice firm, while preparing the needle. “I need to stitch your cut.”

Andre obeyed, feeling the cold air from the air conditioning hit his warm, blood-soaked skin. The metallic smell of his own blood mixed with disinfectant, invading his nostrils and making his stomach churn.

“Could you tell me what happened now?” the nurse asked, not looking at him, moving the needle over the open, cold wound.

“We were in the forest, with a group of friends… celebrating Halloween. And he appeared… a fucking enormous wolf and started attacking everyone. Happy?” Andre replied, his voice thick with impatience and anger. He couldn’t even reveal the prank they were doing because it would’ve been social suicide — and he wasn’t social anyway.

The nurse froze, eyes wide, face drained of color — as if the floor had opened beneath her feet.

“Oh my God… are there others hurt? How many? Why didn’t you tell me before?!” Her voice came out in spasms, wavering between panic and urgency.

“You didn’t ask,” Andre murmured, his throat dry, the bitter taste still in his mouth. “And… as far as I know, only two girls. And they’re probably dead.”

She stared at him, eyes trembling, air escaping in short gasps, as if she were about to collapse.

“We need to call the police!” She ran out, her footsteps echoing down the corridor, shouting for help. Andre stayed there, motionless on the stretcher, the hospital’s hum devouring his thoughts.

It was then that real dread crept in — Almon. Shit. He had to warn him, get the car out before they discovered the prank. If the police connected the dots because of him, it’d be over.

He knew it was immoral to care more about that than people being killed by beasts, but he simply didn’t care. He and Cal had made it out alive from that mess, and that was what really mattered.

He didn’t even know those girls well enough to care about them. Maybe he was a fucking sociopath. Maybe he and Cal were.

Luckily, Almon was a paranoid idiot with his secret codes. Andre pulled out his phone with trembling hands, fingers slick with sweat. He scrolled through the contacts, heart pounding in his throat, and typed: “Red code.”

The message disappeared from the screen, sent.

Silence crept in again, thick, suffocating — the kind of silence that makes the air heavy. Andre’s thoughts returned to Cal, and he swallowed hard, the metallic taste of fear in his throat. Minutes stretched like hours. Every second was torture, every groan reminded him that Cal was still out there — hurt, bleeding — and he had no idea if he was still alive.

The image of Cal lying motionless, blood flowing, seared into his mind. Guilt throbbed in his chest, hot and pulsating. This was his fault. Because of him, Cal had been caught. The bite… Christ. He didn’t even know how deep it went, but it seemed to reach the bone. His stomach twisted at the thought, and he had to fight not to vomit.

The door opened with a dry click. The nurse entered, her white coat gleaming under the cold, almost cruel light.

“Sorry to keep you waiting! I’ve already informed reception — you’ll need to give your statement, young man. Explain where you were.” She didn’t wait for a response. She approached, put on fresh gloves, and pushed the needle back into Andre’s ripped shoulder.

The shock was immediate — a sharp, electric pain that shot up his arm and stole his breath. His whole body tensed, fingers gripping the metal of the stretcher. Every stitch burned, every tug of the thread tore him a little more inside. But he said nothing.

Only one name echoed in his mind.

Cal.

♱

Cal woke with a dry mouth and a foggy mind, as if ripped from a dream too deep. His vision was blurry, everything distorted for a few seconds. Blinking didn’t help much, so he rubbed his eyes with trembling hands and forced himself to sit up. The hospital room watched in silence — too white, too cold. He tried to remember what had happened. Fragments returned in flashes: Andre’s truck seat, the engine’s roar, the metallic taste of death running down his throat. After that, nothing. Just darkness.

He looked down. His clothes were gone, replaced by that thin, indecent hospital gown. He pulled the blankets, revealing his leg wrapped in white gauze.

No pain. No throbbing. Just an uncomfortable quiet.

Thirst.

Hunger.

A hunger that seemed to come from the bone, from the soul. Maybe it was the medication, he thought.

At first, the world sounded muffled, as if his ears were submerged in water. Then, everything opened — too loud, too sharp. Voices in the corridor pierced him like blades, making his eardrums ache; he instinctively pressed his hands against his ears.

Useless.

He recognized Andre’s voice: tense, furious. The other was deep, controlled, a man he didn’t know.

“I’ve already told you everything, leave me alone!”

“What were you doing in the forest, young man?”

“I said! We were being stupid teenagers on Halloween, and that animal attacked us!”

The words drove into Cal like nails hammered into his skull.

Animal.

Attacked.

Suddenly, something hot rose in his throat — a memory, an instinct, a taste too old to be human.

Blood.

The scene came back in fragments: the animal dragging him into the forest, the sound of flesh being torn, someone’s muffled scream behind him. The metallic taste filling his mouth.

Cal felt his stomach twist. Bile burned his throat, but he swallowed.

“Were you using drugs?” asked the deep voice.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, no!” Andre answered, his voice breaking.

“Watch your tone with me, kid.”

“Then stop asking stupid questions! We’ve been here for an hour and a half!”

The silence that followed was thick. The man was about to respond, but the crackle of a police radio interrupted.

The sound seemed to echo inside Cal’s head, sharper than it should be, like the device was right next to his bed.

“We found three bodies.”

Cal’s breath caught. His heart — if it was still beating — seemed to skip, forgetting its rhythm.

Three?

He only remembered Casey. And her friend.

Another person had died.

He could have been the fourth.

If not for Andre.

“We’ll have another conversation with you and your friend later,” said the male voice, firm, distant.

After that, footsteps. And Andre’s dragged, exhausted, annoyed sigh.

The sound grew closer.

Each step echoed in Cal’s chest until the doorknob turned and the door opened.

Andre entered.

Covered in dried blood, mud, and guilt. Eyes sunken, face tense, body trembling from exhaustion.

But to Cal, he was the most alive thing in that dead hospital. The most human vision amid the white and silence.

Cal let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding.

“Andre,” he called, voice hoarse, broken, almost a moan.

Andre stared — shock taking over his eyes.

“Cal… hey, you’re awake.” He crossed the room in two steps. His warm hands cupped Cal’s face, the touch burning — not from pain, but life.

Andre had always been like that: fire. Always warming him when he was just ice and emptiness.

“I thought you’d sleep for like two days,” he said, laughing weakly, his voice trembling. The following smile was small, too tired, but still the most beautiful Cal had ever seen.

“I would have slept after that,” Cal muttered.

For a moment, he forgot the blood, the metallic taste still in his throat, the weight of the forest on his skin.

All that remained was Andre’s warmth.

And the hunger, quiet, writhing beneath the skin — hungry, patient.

“I feel fine… a little weird, but I think it’s the medicine.”

“You should go back to sleep,” Andre murmured, voice hoarse with exhaustion. Forehead resting against his, the warm touch contrasting with Cal’s cold skin. “You scared me so much.” His hands trembled slightly as he stroked Cal’s face.

“I was scared too,” Cal whispered.

“I know… I know… I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“If I hadn’t—”

“Dre, that thing would’ve found us anyway.” He interrupted him before he could finish. Andre just exhaled heavily, defeated, eyes lost between guilt and relief.

The silence that followed was thick, cut only by the sound of their breathing.

Then Cal broke the space between them:

“I’m starving.”

Andre’s eyes flickered — a brief, almost imperceptible reflection, but Cal noticed. Andre moved away quickly, as if the air between them had changed temperature.

“I’ll get you something! I’ll ask a nurse, okay? Be right back.”

He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Cal’s forehead, a trembling, hesitant gesture. As he started to turn, Cal grabbed his hand.

“No! God, I hate hospital food!”

The mere thought of those pale, scentless meals twisted his stomach. Not from hunger — from repulsion.

“Only hospital food or vending machine snacks, Cal.”

The idea of chewing something artificial, dry, dead, made bile rise in his mouth. He wanted meat. Not just any meat — warm, alive, juicy meat.

He wanted to taste iron, heat running across his tongue.

“Fuck, no! I’ll wait until we get home.”

“You need to eat, you’re weak. You lost a lot of blood.” Andre said, voice heavy with concern.

“I’m fine, okay? I promise.” The smile Cal forced fooled no one — not even himself. Inside, the hunger still crawled, hot and silent, biting every inch of his skin. Advantage was obvious: Andre was too exhausted to argue.

“You promise you can hold out until we get home?” Andre’s voice was defeated, full of fatigue.

“Yes, I promise.” Cal squeezed his hand, trying to convey reassurance.

“Then rest for now, at least, okay? I’ll be here.” Andre said, settling into the chair beside the bed.

Cal lay back, eyes fixed on Andre. Every line on his face, every breath, every sigh seemed amplified. The chair wasn’t comfortable, and he wanted Andre closer to his skin than he ever had in his life. So he made room.

“Come here, this chair’s crap anyway.”

Andre hesitated, and for a moment, the silence between them burned.

“I’m the one who’s crap.” He muttered, referring to the dried blood and mud on his clothes and skin, but his eyes never left Cal.

“True, but I don’t care. Please, come.” Cal pleaded without realizing, and something in the tone of his request seemed to tear through the air between them.

Andre exhaled slowly, heavy, loaded with exhaustion and contained tension. He climbed onto the bed next to Cal, careful not to touch the injured leg. Even at a distance from the wound, the proximity was good enough for now. The bed wasn’t big, and they were two grown men, a little cramped.

Perfect.

Because Cal didn’t want to move away from Andre ever again. He wanted to crawl inside his skin, merge into his body, dissolve there until no border remained. He wanted to be one — flesh, breath, warmth — never to separate again.

He leaned in and curled around the dark-haired man as if he were a teddy bear. Andre smelled of mud and blood, but Cal didn’t care. Beneath the metallic, dirty smell, he still smelled the Andre he loved.

Still could catch a hint of Andre’s cologne, what he’d worn since high school.

Smelled so good.

“Your leg, Cal.” Andre’s voice came low, muffled by his hair.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay, but be careful. You might open your stitches.”

Finally, Andre gave in. Wrapped his arms around him, and Cal hummed contentedly, burying his face in Andre’s chest. Andre’s hand moved to Cal’s scalp, massaging slowly, and he almost purred like a cat.

“For a moment, I thought I lost you.” Andre’s voice faltered, tired, trembling. “It was the worst thing I’ve ever felt… just… don’t leave again, Cal. Scream at me, hate me, but don’t walk out that door.”

Cal stayed silent, feeling the weight of his words crush him. Andre was exhausted — he could see it in his voice, gestures, sunken eyes. Paler than usual, Cal had never seen him so broken.

The medication they’d given him must be strong, because he didn’t feel like that. But Andre… Andre seemed shattered. And the fact that he was talking about that day, allowing himself to be vulnerable, said a lot. They never talked when they fought — just yelled, fucked, and pretended nothing happened afterward.

Cal regretted leaving. At the exact moment he closed the door behind him. But he was too proud to go back, and Andre too proud to ask him to return.

When he learned Andre was dating a girl, he went insane. How dare Andre move on so easily? How could he ignore the years they’d had together to go out with some random girl? They went to the same university; he found out through the first dumb gossip who crossed his path. The only thing he felt was blood boiling and the urge to smash everything around him, punch Andre’s face, kill the girl.

But all he did was stand there, listening to some random boy say Andre was dating a sweet, popular girl, everyone loved her — good grades, kind, gentle, went to church, cared for the environment. Then he went to the dorm and cut his arms frantically.

He thought: Andre didn’t love him anymore. Andre had moved on. He was useless, replaceable. Andre found someone normal, someone who wasn’t complete chaos like Cal. Now Andre was dating a pretty, good girl.

Andre had moved on, and he was still a mess, going insane — only this time, alone. Until now, when he remembered, he still felt the blood boil. She could even be dead, and his jealousy might be pointless, but the rage remained.

Sure, he tried dating other guys while they were apart, but they were all idiots who just annoyed him — and he kicked them out before anything happened. They all reminded him of Andre; he only thought of Andre. Irritating as hell. While he was miserable and incapable of being with anyone because everyone was boring vanilla, Andre was with a lovely, good girl.

When he remembered the annual Halloween event, something inside him lit up — an old, sick, almost familiar spark. He knew Andre would be there; they had gone together in previous years. He also knew Andre would be a hunter, as he always was. And maybe out of impulse, maybe out of pure obsession, he didn’t think twice before catching a ride with Almon and heading to that damned clearing.

He didn’t have a plan.

But when his eyes found that bitch beside Andre — touching him, occupying a space that used to be his — his mind went foggy, as if the air around him dissolved. Fury seeped into his blood like venom.

He only thought about how much he wanted to see blood being spilled — both Andre’s and the lovely Cassie’s. He definitely hadn’t expected to end up being fucked over on the filthy ground of a forest. But Andre had sworn, promised him that nothing had happened, that he had belonged only to Cal since high school. And Cal believed him. He saw the sincerity in Andre’s eyes.

He had always known Andre was just as obsessed as he was, but knowing Andre had been with someone else made him uncertain about it. For the first time, he didn’t feel as confident as he used to about their relationship.

They had fought exactly because of that — Cal’s trust. Cal had made the mistake of thinking Andre had the same kind of trust.

Cal didn’t answer, he just lifted his head from Andre’s chest and looked up into his tired eyes. Then he leaned in and closed the small distance between them.

Andre seemed hesitant but allowed himself to be kissed.

Cal needed it. He needed Andre to understand that he felt the same — that Cal wasn’t lying, that he needed him, that he missed him, that he was afraid of losing him too. He had always been the worst of the two with words; maybe that was why Andre avoided being too sentimental. Cal could never say the right things, never knew how to look at him in those moments and say what he meant — he had never been good at that.

He was good at actions. And right now, he was happy to be alive, happy to have Andre under him, to feel his warm body against his own. Because Andre was so good — so good to him.

Before he even realized, he was already biting Andre’s lower lip, hard enough to make it bleed. But Cal didn’t taste the metallic flavor; it was sweet. Too sweet. He sucked more, pulling a rough grunt from Andre beneath him.

Everything about Andre drove him insane now — the smell, the taste, the heat of his body. He could only think that he wanted more of it, that nothing was ever enough, that he couldn’t get close enough.

“Hey, hey, hey… take it easy,” Andre’s voice came out breathless, almost a disguised moan. “What the hell got into you?” He pulled Cal by the hair, trying to make him stop.

Cal ignored him. He moved forward again, eyes fixed on the blood dripping from Andre’s mouth. He wanted that. He needed that. But Andre held him firmly, fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Cal, we’re in a hospital.”

“What?” Cal’s gaze rose to meet his. “So what?”

“So what that I don’t want us to get kicked out… and I’m too damn tired for this right now.” Andre tried to catch his breath. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He pressed his hand to Cal’s forehead. “You’re hot. Really hot.”

“I already told you I am!” Cal snapped through gritted teeth, feeling a thread of irritation burn through him.

“Okay, that’s it.” Andre started to get up, making Cal widen his eyes and sit up to stop him, hands pushing him back, anger fading as quickly as it came.

“No! I just… I don’t know, just stay… please.” Andre looked at him for a few seconds, then sighed and lay back down.

“Just to sleep, seriously Cal! I don’t know how you still have any energy left. I’m exhausted — and now my mouth hurts.” Andre touched his lips, his fingertip staining red. Cal tried to ignore the urge to lick it away.

“Maybe you’re just getting old.” Cal smiled, resting his head on the pillow so that they were face to face.

“Oh, sure. It has nothing to do with the fact that I carried your ass and spent the whole night running from a giant wolf that wanted to eat us alive.” Andre snorted, his grumpy tone barely hiding his exhaustion. “I didn’t even sleep for an hour.”

“That was weird, huh?” Cal murmured. “I’ve never read about a wolf that big.”

“Yeah… bizarre.” Andre looked away, his voice trembling slightly. “It had red eyes. That doesn’t exist, I mean… I think. When it looked at me, my spine froze. Fuck, I’m never going into a forest again, seriously. We’re spending the next Halloweens watching gore movies and eating junk food, just like in high school.”

Cal smiled, hit by a wave of nostalgia — a memory of them as dumb teenagers locked in Andre’s mom’s basement, hiding from the world.

“Yeah, that sounds much better.” He leaned in, invading Andre’s space. “Was talking to the police as bad as it sounded?”

“Huh? Oh… wait, you heard that?” Andre tried to laugh, but his voice came out low. “Maybe I yelled too much.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, that cop was a piece of shit.” Andre ran a hand through his hair, eyes lost on the ceiling. “He tried his hardest to make me admit we were there to do drugs. I shouldn’t have told him about the giant wolf and the red eyes. He probably thought I was high as hell. God, I hate those pigs.” He took a deep breath, voice caught between anger and exhaustion. “Unfortunately, we’ll have to go to the station to give our statement. And if he keeps that crap up… maybe I’ll just stay there.”

“Don’t do anything stupid, I need someone to help me while my leg’s wrapped up.” Andre chuckled quietly and looked at him.

“You’re telling me not to do anything stupid? Roles are reversed now?”

“You’re a fucking hypocrite, as if you didn’t have your moments… like yelling at a cop.” Cal snorted.

“Okay, fair point. But you’re still more impulsive than me. Like… attacking me with a knife.”

“Shut up. Forget it.”

“I can’t, I’m traumatized.” Andre smirked and pulled him closer, voice softening.

“Mein kleines Monsterchen.”

Cal rolled his eyes, but his face flushed slightly.

“Stop calling me that, it’s ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

“I don’t. It’s so cheesy.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Whatever.” Cal looked away, his voice dropping. “Weren’t you the one who said you were tired? Go to sleep.”

“Okay, but you love it.” Andre said with his eyes closed and a smile spreading across his face, making Cal huff.

“Shut up and sleep.” Andre laughed softly and pulled Cal even closer. Cal rested his head on his chest, breathing deeply, inhaling his scent, letting himself be wrapped by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. For a moment, it felt like he could finally let go of the weight he carried — like he could finally breathe.

He might have lied about hating the nickname. He’d always thought couple nicknames were cheesy and stupid… until Andre started using it. In that moment, Cal felt exposed, vulnerable, ridiculous — and reacted with mockery. But Andre hadn’t been offended — or at least pretended not to be — and just kept teasing him, calling him “little monster” in German with that ironic smile. At first, Cal found it annoying, but there was something about the way Andre sometimes said it that made him feel strangely… adored? Safe? He couldn’t describe it — only felt his stomach twist depending on how Andre said it.

It was frustrating. A nickname shouldn’t mess with him like that. It was ridiculous, pathetic. But if Andre ever dared to stop, he’d cut his dick off. Maybe not the dick — it was too crucial a part, too useful for Cal.

Maybe the tongue would be better.

His violent thoughts about hypothetical situations were interrupted by Andre mumbling near his ear.

“When the nurse came to tell me about you… she said the cut wasn’t that deep, that it could’ve been worse, that you’d be fine. I felt a weight lift off my shoulders… but at the same time, it was strange… there was so much blood… my God, I swear I saw your bone… your leg was… chewed, Cal… my God.”

Cal felt his stomach twist.

“I… I think I saw it too… maybe it was the adrenaline… the chaos of it all made it look worse than it was,” he said, swallowing hard.

“Yeah… probably that… maybe I’m just losing my mind.” Andre whispered, hesitant, holding him gently.

“You just need to rest… then we’ll get out of here, because I hate hospitals.” Andre gave a humorless laugh.

“I know…” he yawned, his fingers lazily brushing through Cal’s hair. His eyes closed, sleep beginning to weigh on him.

“Korn will be happy to see you.”

“I hope so.” Cal whispered back, feeling Andre’s movements slow down. He could hear his heartbeat steady, feel the weight of his body relax.

Cal stayed there, listening to his soft breathing, his chest rising and falling beneath his head. Every small sound, every vibration, wrapped him in a sense of safety. The world outside disappeared, and he felt his consciousness slip, slowly, gently, into the threshold of sleep.

Then, everything went black.