After

Darren pushed open the door with its 'closed' sign and swaggered into the bar.

"I never got to buy you that drink."

His walk was cocky, his tone relaxed, but Kit noticed a tension in his shoulders and his eyes weren't smiling. He was out for a fight.

Anger flared in Kit. Couldn't he just leave me alone? I thought we settled this.

"No need," he said without looking at him, and continued wiping down the bar.

"Oh, I insist. I lost, after all. You won. Pour us one - I'll pay."

Kit narrowed his eyes and moved behind the bar. His bag was right there - and it had sedatives in it. Should he slip one into Darren's drink?

No, he decided, that was too much. Instead he took out a small syringe with a cap and a strong sedative for animals, and put it in his apron pocket. Just in case.

He poured two whiskeys with coke and put them on the bartop.

Darren gripped his drink and his eyes shone. He was a werewolf - stronger than Kit and two heads taller.

You've got about two seconds before they use their weight and range against you - assuming you catch them by surprise.

Darren lifted his glass and Kit did the same, locking eyes. Then he grinned and lunged for the omega.

Kit threw his whiskey into Darren's eyes and swung his elbow into his cheekbone, knocking him sideways. He threw the glass at his face, making him throw up his hands, and then jumped the bar, kicking his feet out.

The larger werewolf hit the floor in a clatter of chairs and limbs. Kit fell on a chair, hitting his shin, and rolled onto Darren, aiming a knee at his groin. Darren howled.

He grabbed onto Kit and rolled them, heedless of the chairs, slamming him into the tiles while Kit struggled to keep his chin tucked in so his head wouldn't crack against the floor as Darren shook him.

His two seconds were up and he was pinned, overpowered, apron twisted so that he couldn't reach the syringe. Fuck.

Darren had always seemed to have less control over his wolf nature than the other pack members. Now his irises were bleeding into his whites, pupils growing as he growled, shaking Kit like a rabbit.

Canines protruded from his lip and his scent washed over Kit - whose body reacted instantly.

He should be scared - but that had never helped him before. He should be angry - and he was. But he had also been trapped like this under Devlin countless times and his body knew what came next, his veins thrumming with arousal as anticipation coursed through him.

Darren flinched. Aha.

Kit let go - instead of struggling he pressed closer, breathing into Darren's face, letting his own sweet scent wash over him. It came easier this time - unleashing his pheromones.

Darren whined, his grip on Kit loosening.

The smaller wolf pressed up, aligning their bodies as he reached between them - into his apron pocket.

He grabbed Darren's hair and yanked his head back. Darren groaned, hands wrapping around Kit's middle.

With his teeth Kit pulled the cap off the syringe and plunged it deep into Darren's shoulder.

By the time Darren came to he was strapped to a chair with cable ties around his arms and ankles, the tight plastic digging into his skin and rendering him completely immobile.

"What the fuck?" he groaned, wincing.

Kit had fought back the feeling - his pheromones - until the scent of them was only a faint whiff in the air. Darren's quick werewolf metabolism was already shaking off the effects of the sedative but Kit wasn't sure how quickly the lust would fade.

Looking at the large, bound man in front of him, Kit was angry. He was furious.

Furious at Darren for picking on him all the goddamn time. Furious at all the Darrens of the world for thinking he would be an easy target. Furious at every man who had ever made him feel helpless or taken away his control and freedom...

If only there was a way to make the other man feel as helpless, as powerless...

"What's the fuck is going on?" Darren growled.

Kit smiled. He pushed away from the counter and walked up to Darren, leaning over him.

"Maybe you shouldn't have messed with me," he whispered into his ear, reaching over to pull down Darren's fly.

"C'mon. Take it like a man."

Kit licked up Darren's shaft, teasing the tip with his tongue, tasting salty precome. Veins bulged in Darren's muscled arms as he strained against the binds, throwing his head back and panting.

He had spent the better part of half an hour slowly driving the larger werewolf insane - releasing small bursts of pheromones, enough to make him whine and thrash - then fighting them back down and stroking him, licking him without letting him come.

Using the pheromones were making Kit dizzy as well. He was hard, kneeling between Darren's thighs, erection hidden underneath his black apron.

"Wow, look at you. How long has it been, Darren? If you're like this already."

The tall, lean, tightly-coiled werewolf glared down at him. He seemed to have lost the ability to speak.

Kit had him close now - his cock was twitching, thick and glistening with saliva, sticking up out of his worn blue jeans. Sweat trickled down Darren's face below his hair. Or could it be a tear?

The boy felt his anger recede, and instinctively he rose up and licked the tear off of Darren's cheek.

What am I doing? he thought. He plucked a knife out of Darren's belt and saw his eyes widen.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm cutting you loose. I...probably shouldn't have done this."

Understatement of the year.

He reached behind Darren and cut through the cable ties around his wrists with one sharp twist and flick - still halfway draped across the other man's lap. Kit tried to pull away and two strong hands suddenly encircled his upper arms, trapping him in place.

Darren clenched his jaw. He looked down at the floor, then back up at Kit. His irises looked more yellow than amber, a golden ring around his large black pupils.

"You think you can do all this and then just walk away?" he growled before he pushed Kit to the floor and pinned him there.

Darren's lean, muscled body pressed against Kit's from calf to shoulder, taut as a bowstring. He was frozen, seemingly in battle with himself, canines protruding from beneath his upper lip.

Kit decided to make the choice easier for him. He arched his back, bringing his hips up to mash them against Darren's, rubbing their cocks together through the rough fabric. The other man's restraint broke.

With a grunt he took possession of Kit's mouth, kissing him savagely and letting go of his arms to grab his clothes and pull him closer. Kit closed his eyes and kissed him back, biting Darren's lower lip and moaning into his mouth.

Darren had a strong scent. A human might have found it off-putting, but it smelt good to the small werewolf.

He smelt like a wild wolf. The scent of the pack and his own scent underneath, screaming alpha. And he smelt of the woods - a whiff of pine needles and dusty red earth. Beyond that there was musk and sweat and a faint scent of motor oil and petroleum that clung to his clothes.

But if Darren smelt of the woods, Dan smelt like home. That was the closest Kit could come to describing it. His scent was clean cotton and laundry detergent with only a hint of salty sweat. It was mown grass instead of wild pine and the scent of his wolf - the heady musk of it - signalled 'beta', warm and inviting.

Kit wanted to bury himself in that scent, smell it all around him...Dan. He shook his head to clear it.

You can't have Dan, he thought. You can have this.

He wrapped his legs around Darren's waist and shoved his hands in underneath his sweaty T-shirt, groping his muscled back and shoulders.

Darren rolled them, letting Kit up on top of him. They were both panting, quiet and avoiding eye contact, their struggle turned into a determined, frantic activity. Darren seemed to have lost all his reservations, yanking his own shirt over his head, ripping Kit's apron off, and rubbing their pricks together.

They were on the sticky tiles next to the bar. Darren scooted up until his back pressed against the bar and pulled Kit down on top of him, tugging at his jeans button.

"Off. Hurry."

Kit stood and kicked off his jeans and underwear, standing naked from the waist down in the dim yellow light, a disheveled topless Darren on the floor in front of him, clothes rumpled and cock out, still wearing his boots.

He grabbed a burning candle from a nearby table and dripped molten wax over his own smooth forearms while Darren hurriedly rolled on a condom.

Kit gasped, shivering.

"Fuck! Get back here." Darren grabbed his calf and yanked him down onto his lap.

"You're into some fucking weird shit," he mumbled, licking the burns and making Kit whimper. He sounded impressed. "C'mere."

Surprisingly gentle, he sucked on Kit's nipple and and reached back to spread his ass open, rubbing his hot prick against his crease.

Kit was panting hard, biting his lip to keep from moaning aloud. He reached up to grab the edge of the wooden bar top and sat up, pushing into that slippery, blunt tip.

"Fuck," Darren said again. "Don't we need something? Here?" His fingers brushed over Kit's hole and the younger man shivered.

"Olive oil. From the bar - quick."

He grabbed a bottle from the counter and straddled Darren again, handing it to him. Darren unscrewed the cork and spilled oil on him, rubbing along his crease. Kit could feel it dribbling down the insides of his thighs, soaking into the fabric of the other man's jeans.

Pushing down, Kit slid slowly onto Darren's length, moaning aloud as his head rolled back. It burned, but it also felt so good, like his mind was dissolving and only his body remained, shaking with pleasure.

"So good..." he moaned.

"Ah, fuck." Darren grabbed his hips and thrust up against him, filling him completely.

"Aaaahhh!" Kit trembled, gasping.

"Does it hurt?"

"Hah...yeah...keep going..."

"Huh?"

"Keep going!"

Kit sat up and moved, drawing a grunt from Darren. Holding onto the slab of polished wood above them he drew himself up slowly and then sat down hard, making them both moan.

"Ah, more...faster..."

Darren grabbed his hips and thrust up into him.

"Fuck! Stay there," he grunted.

Kit stood on his knees, holding onto the bartop, as Darren moved out from under him. He positioned himself behind Kit.

Kit heard him grab something from a nearby table and gasped as he felt hot liquid splatter over his skin, sharp pain shooting through his back.

"You like that, right?" Darren asked, voice rough. Wax droplets rolled along Kit's sides, leaving red welts and goosebumps on his smooth, cream-and-coffee skin. He could only nod, pleasure short-circuiting his brain.

Darren licked up the sweat beading between his shoulder blades and pushed slowly back in, letting Kit feel every inch of him. He nibbled at the sensitive skin at the nape of his neck, eliciting a high, keening moan.

"Don't move your hands, Charlie," Darren growled against his neck.

Next thing Kit knew he was pressed into the side of the bar, hot wax on his back, being fucked within an inch of his life. He held on, losing control of his voice and moaning with each hard, deep thrust.

I'll fuck you within an inch of your life if you want me to - but only if you say you'll be mine.

Kit growled. He pushed back against Darren, focusing on the pleasure coursing through him, trying to banish all thoughts of Dan from his mind.

He couldn't reach his own cock and Darren hadn't touched it - but he could feel his orgasm building, precome seeping from his tip and sticking to the polished wood he was pressed up against.

The Darren bit his into shoulder where it met his neck, panting against his skin, and his cock thrust up at just the right angle, hitting Kit's prostate. He saw stars.

Kit collapsed forward, hands slipping down, ass still in the air, so close to coming.

"Fuck!" Darren rammed into him, slamming them both against the wall, growling and gripping Kit's arm, pulling him back against him.

Kit felt his balls pull up tight, Darren hitting that spot with each thrust. He came with a hoarse yell, tightening and twitching around the cock buried in his ass.

Darren swore, thrusting in to the hilt and coming deep inside him.

They both collapsed on the sticky, maroon tiles, sweating and slick with olive oil and come, panting.

Kit made to straighten up, assuming that that was it, now it was over. Then Darren grabbed him from behind and pulled him close, sighing and nuzzling between Kit's shoulder blades.

"Come to my place," he said.

"Okay," Kit found himself replying. He didn't want to be alone anyway - didn't want to let the guilt and thoughts back in yet. "Just let me clean up here."

Darren helped him.