Visitor

A/N - Written for WattyWolves' September prompt - This average-sized old wolf is male with a gray coat. He has a medium-length, narrow face and is quite heavy. He is very fond of eating, is very excitable, and is very affectionate.

Write about this wolf as the main character with up to 1500 words and with at least one multi-media.

The wolf in question is one of the main characters, as viewed by another and forms part of a potential gay relationship.

The name of the chocolatier's can be translated from the original German as 'the chocolate rabbit.'

W/C - 1422 words

****

The evening was dark, and chill, as snow drifted down thickly upon Berlin streets, yet inside Das Schokolade Kaninchen, the kitchen was warm and clammy; the air was redolent with the thick and heavy scent of melting chocolate, in various stages of either being tempered, sculpted or moulded. That night, I was in charge of the moulding, brows furrowed as I skillfully poured layers of brown, green, yellow and red coloured chocolate one by one by one on top of one another, setting each layer before applying the next in order to ensure that the chocolate hamburger I was making would mould together properly.

Das Schokolade Kaninchen was a specialty chocolate shop, located within the bright realms of Alexa, a massive Berlin shopping centre; I was one of a select few chocolatiers, reputed to be the best in Berlin society, yet I wasn't entirely convinced by that. To me, it was just a job. We'd seen a lot of custom in the rush before Christmas and that day was no exception; it was just after eight and I would be glad when the shift was finally over at nine, when I finally could return home. I was tired, and hot, and longing for my bed. I knew, however, that I could easily finish the last chocolate burger before then, concentration narrowed down to nothing but the ooze and flow of the liquid chocolate, thick and aromatic as I eased it into its mould.

"Benton," someone yelled nearby and my hand twitched slightly at the sound of my name.

"Yeah?" I asked, as I poured the last of the brown chocolate into the mould and stepped away with a sigh of relief.

Now all I had to do was wait for it to set properly, before the mould could be eased away from the grinning face of a perfectly moulded novelty hamburger.

"Visitor for you, Benny," the chocolatier that had yelled before said. "Your pet dog."

"Okay," I called back, grinning slightly at the announcement.

I wasn't quite sure exactly when the so-called 'dog' had begun to visit us, but I knew his visits had begun more than a year previously; perhaps he had first been attracted by the smell of the chocolate, spreading thick and sweet on fresh spring breezes. My visitor was old, and he was large and heavy-set, with the greyest fur I'd ever seen. The fact that he wasn't actually a dog had escaped everyone's attentions, except for mine; I, alone, knew the truth of it. Still, that 'dog' was friendly, to the point of being genuinely affectionate, forever hungry, tongue warm and lolling against my hands as I fed him pieces of rejected chocolate that no one else had any use for. Whilst most complained that it was a waste of expensive chocolate, that it could, and should, be melted down again, and reused, I still kept some aside, in the hopes that my visitor would come.

I plucked the small package of rejected chocolate mis-shapes from where I'd stowed them under the counter, before I made my way through the sweltering kitchens, and out into the Berlin air, which felt almost like a chill slap to the face after the heat of indoors. As promised, my visitor was there, melding with the shadows, thick shaggy grey fur moving almost liquidly with every step, body graceful despite his heavy size. I grinned and held my hand out, palm outwards, towards him, waiting for him to accept my overture of friendliness; he did. He always did, warm tongue lapping at my palm, and sending tickling tingles of pleasure through me.

"How are ya, eh?" I asked, as I dared to run one hand over his blocky head, amused, once again, at how the visitor's eyes were human, intelligent and inexplicably kind. "Last night here, isn't it? For this month, at any rate."

The visitor growled, but it was a sound of agreement, not anger or warning, and it sounded almost sad, that noise. I sighed and ran one hand over his head again, before I spoke.

"You can always visit me still in your human form, you know," I reminded him. "It doesn't matter either way to me. You know I always look forward to your visits."

The visitor grumbled and nosed at my belly, breath heated and blasting against my chef's whites. I tried to step away, complaining about thick hairs perhaps transferring from me into the chocolate, yet as ever, my visitor took no notice. He would not be denied, especially where I was concerned. My visitor nosed at me again, before he sat and stared up at me, too-human eyes considering and thoughtful, as though waiting for something. In truth, he actually was. He'd given me an ultimatum the week before, when he'd visited me in his human form, to join him, to trust him, to forever be with him, or he would leave, and I would never see him again. The fact that to be with him meant that I had to be bitten, to be transformed into a being just like him, hadn't escaped my attention; that had been explained to me, patiently, sadly, longingly, and I'd had to have the time to think on it, to make my decision either way.

Whilst I had not been sure that I'd wanted to be furry three nights a month, the thought of never seeing my friend again hurt more. It was only then, when faced with the inevitability of parting that I knew what my answer would be, what it always had been. Every visit, in his human or his wolf form, had been a part of him courting me, and I'd be damned if I'd let him do it, flattered by his attentions, amused by them, warmed by them; I'd even encouraged him. The fact that only he and I knew that he was a werewolf also went some way to his insistence at courting me - I hadn't run away at the first revelation of his true nature when all others might have done. Instead, I'd been intrigued, and found it appealing, exotic even, a balm to my otherwise boring life; the fact that he also was funny in his human form, and friendly, even charming, went a long way towards me bowing easily beneath his courtship. It didn't matter to me that he was a werewolf three nights out of every month, or that he was the Alpha of the Berlin pack; all that mattered was who he was, and how he made me feel. That he also seemed to genuinely want me in turn further added to the appeal of it all.

The werewolf nosed forward, nuzzling my belly again and I was reminded of just how strong his jaws were, that he could disembowel me quite easily if he'd wanted; the fact that he didn't, and I knew I could trust him, emboldened him and he nuzzled me even more, eyes closing, amused rumbles working in his chest, as he did so.

"Be serious, now. You only want me for my chocolate, don't you, Darius?" I asked, in amusement, as I ran hands over his head and his neck.

The werewolf grumbled and it almost sounded as though it was a - no. I laughed and fondled his ears thoughtfully, as once again, the werewolf nuzzled forward, reaching up to stripe one lick against my cheek. His tongue was warm and gentle and it almost felt like a kiss to me. I did not draw away and he licked me again, affectionately emboldened by my continued acceptance of him.

"I guess you know my answer," I finally said, with a sigh, as I stared him.

He grumbled, and cocked his head to one side, with those too intelligent eyes, and that sharp, narrow face.

"I don't want you to go," I said, more sadly than I'd expected to. "I accept. I'll be damned, but I accept."

Darius surged forward then, a lupine howl working free joyfully from his chest and that was when I felt the first sharp cut of his teeth against my shoulder, firm and strong, yet careful, as though Darius was still mindful of hurting me, even while turning me. I closed my eyes and allowed it to happen, knowing that that was what I wanted, to be like Darius, to be with Darius, to run free in the shadowed halls of the night forevermore with him, to remain by his side, out of love.