I am fully aware that this concept is overdone, however, I wanted to write this and so I did. Enjoy, and if you don't, send me hate mail :) I have a another part I might upload at a later time, if there's interest. lmk
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Part One
"You know, that's not how you do that, Benj." I hold back my irritated growl towards my best friend. Of course I
knew
that, not that the knowledge of my lack of understanding helped me any. The Elders had given all of our year's the task of starting the ceremonial braid. It was a shit tradition, in my opinion.
It was a canvas of braids that when hung up stood taller than the tops of our homes. Each plait represented a member of the pack, their addition signaling their presence and importance within the pack dynamics. As our year was coming to be our sixteenth, it was time for us to begin to think about what our role would become, and where we belonged within the community. I was becoming a man, and a wolf.
It also signified our approach into our mating years, but I tried not to think about that too much.
"By the Gods, Benj, you are hopeless," Oslo laughs. "Here, let me show you." I huff as his tanned hands take the colored ropes from my frazzled ones. His were ones of dexterity and strength, unlike my clumsy ones. His fingers were quick and sure as they unclumped the mess that mine had made, his handsome face bright with a slight smile.
"You know I'm terrible at this stuff," I mumble, watching him. Everyone else had finished theirs hours ago, but of course Oslo would stick around to help me. That's just the type of guy he was, not to mention that we had barely spent more than a night apart from each other since we were toddlers. I can't remember a time when we weren't best friends. He was my partner in crime, my better half. Not to mention, the top of our year. Real leadership potential, my mother had said.
"Yes, I'm aware, yet you still somehow managed to surprise me." Oslo meets my eyes with a wicked smile, making my chest do that odd thing again. It was strange, really. That pang was always there, making me cringe from its brutality. It had started out as a feeling, but had grown into something much stronger before I could even realize what was happening. A twinge when Oslo smiled at me, or whenever his skin brushed against mine during practice. It was a dull but painful ache, like something wasn't working in there properly. Maybe it wasn't, and that's why I am the way that I am. I wished it would stop. "Have you remembered the pattern?" I'd known Oslo my whole life. Every memory worth remembering had him in it. When had things changed? "Your start is fine, but you are crossing three with five instead of seven, which is why your middle looks like..."
"Shit? Yeah, that might be why," I deadpan. Oslo rolls his eyes and smirks. Ouch.
"Honestly, it's not that bad. I like the colors you picked," Oslo says, handing me back my untangled plait. "Now just go slow, I'll help you." I flinch slightly as his fingers brush mine, guiding them through the pattern. I gulp nervously. My chest aches. "What made you pick them?"
"They're colors from my memories," I begin, trying to keep the blush from my face. "Gold for that day we spent by the river with those lantana flowers," I say, smiling from the memory. "Burgundy for when we got into trouble with Elder Rosa and she made us paint the entire wall of the Hall that damn color." We both chuckle at the remembrance of our troublemaking. Our shenigans always got us into trouble. "Chocolate for," I pause, blushing. "Because I really like chocolate." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the reason for the color. More for the dark brown locks that sat in untamed curls on top of Oslo's head.
Oslo, only being in his fifteenth year like me, was the definition of masculine, and in the most striking way. Chocolate, untamable curls. Burgundy full lips. Caramel colored skin, wrapped tightly around blossoming muscles. A strong jaw, and piercing blue eyes that made everything tingle when they glanced my way. He was developing into a man, much faster than I was. I was still short and scrawny, with light freckles smattered all over my light golden skin. I did not possess the strength the other boys my year did, however, I made up for my weakness with speed and agility. My green eyes still held the innocence of childhood, while my best friend's were becoming wicked and knowledgeable with maturity.
"Yes, you are quite the chocolate fiend," Oslo laughs. His fingers caress the vivid blue strand, his eyes of the same color lifting to meet mine. "What about this one?"
"I-," I hesitate, trying to think of a story that I could relate to it. "Um-," I quickly look away from his face as my flush deepens. Shit! I couldn't lie. For every part of my life, Oslo has been there by my side. I couldn't make up a story without him knowing that it was made up. "I guess I just liked the color." I hide my face by looking down. It wasn't exactly a lie.
"Oh really? It's not because of my beautiful eyes?" I look up sharply in surprise to see Oslo batting his eyelashes at me playfully. The ache spreads to my throat, creating a ball of pressure there that threatens to choke me. He laughs at his joke, waiting for me to join along. But I don't. I can't. I can only look down again to hide the seriousness of my face. "Benj, I was only kidding," Oslo says softly, immediately noticing my withdraw.
"I know, Oslo, I know." I sigh, avoiding his gaze as I stand. "I'll finish this another day. It's not like the ceremonies are tomorrow or anything." I leave my plait on the desk as I turn to leave. "Thanks for your help, but I'm just gonna head home. Momma probably needs help with Aisling and Reena, and I'm already late." I nearly dart for the exit to hide my embarrassment, using my single mother and my two younger sisters as an excuse for my retreat. I nearly make it to the door before his strong hands grip my arm.
"Benji, wait." He spins me back around to face him, confusion clear on his face. "What's going on?" We always walk home together. Poor Oslo, so unable to understand, despite his ever growing maturity.
"Don't worry about it. I'll see you tomorrow." I plead him with my eyes to let it go as I tug my arm from his grip, turning towards the door once more.
"
Don't worry about it?
Do you even know how stupid that sounds?" I hesitate with my hand on the door. His voice is close to sounding hurt. "Of course I'm gonna worry about it." He is significantly closer now, I can almost feel his heat on my back. "Just tell me what's wrong so I can fix it." The ache grows worse at his tone. So caring, so hopeful.
I turn to face him, wanting to reach out and smooth the frown from his face. "I don't think you can fix this." My voice is a whisper as he stops inches from me. I suddenly feel like crying. And punching something. "This is stupid," I mutter, refusing to look at him.
Those strong, sure fingers brush my jaw, coming to settle on my chin. Raising my head softly, I am consumed by his gaze. I hadn't seen this look before. It was dark, and sad. Oslo was never sad. The realization of his sadness hurt me too, but this was a sharp pain from deep inside that makes me bite my lip so that a whimper won't escape.
The soft grasp of my chin turns almost rough, those tanned fingers moving to firmly grasp my hair. My heart beat was deafening in my ears, my mouth opening in confusion, but no sound comes out. Oslo suddenly looked wild. It was not unlike the look he got when we practiced our hunting maneuvers, except that he almost looked like he was in pain. I didn't realize that I was moving until my back hit the door. We were both panting, close enough to feel each other's breath.
Oslo's wild eyes dart to somewhere below my nose. The pain is exceptional at this point. I feel like I can't breathe, like there isn't enough air in the world to save me. I watch Oslo's burgundy lips as he huffs roughly, an animal ready for attack. Those lips holding the air I seek.
Our lips brush together delicately. As soft as he is, his warmth makes our meeting almost brutal. I gasp as his mouth moves against mine more firmly, my hands clenching into his shirt to keep me from sliding to the floor. We have no idea what we are doing, yet somehow we know exactly what we are doing. Primal instinct, a script as old as time guiding our movements in slow, unsure movements.
His tongue tasting my lips, my mouth opening to suck on it. There was no thought. It was nutrients that I didn't know I was starving for. Suddenly the pain was no longer an ache, but a hunger. A delicious, hot need for something that only Oslo could give me. This was everything.
We didn't hear the footsteps approaching, not until there was a hand on the doorknob opening it up against us. Our mouths disconnect as I am shoved into Oslo by the opening door, his grasp on me the only thing keeping me from falling.
"Oh, my apologies! There you two are." The voice of Elder Yasmine entering the room snaps me from the haze quickly. Oslo was already disentangled from my body and standing away from me, looking to be just as flushed as I felt. "Finishing up your plaits I see. You boys are growing up," she says fondly, looking at both of us with pride. My stomach turns. She had no idea what we were just doing. "I can't believe that you're both almost grown up! It seems like only yesterday you were running around, causing trouble like kids do. Now you are almost men!" She smiles broadly at both of us before walking over to the tapestry of our pack.
