The Beast of Bodmin Moor
Ooh, that velvet voice; richer, smoother, more Bailey’s-Irish-Creamy than ever before. Resonant with warmth, worry and…wonderment? Phin did dragging in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the sumptuous scent his whole self craved. Jake. His Jake. Waiting; heart heavy with regret…even as it did soaring skywards. As contrary as ever. Mine.
Blimey…why hadn’t Jake told him it would do feeling like that? Phin had sort of expected to experience something along the lines of a scene from Alien, with a bit less blood ‘n’ guts, and lots more fur. Instead, it had felt like doing too much excessive coming; ablaze with an agony of bliss as his every fibre of his being did exploding.
Phin’s eyes flicked open, before he’d done cobbling together the wherewithal to do so. Hmm…Jake. Gleaming gold, hair a hundred hues of umber, bedazzling blues luminous with topaz intensity. Fingers proffered his way—not flinching from Phin as he’d feared—despite there being no trace of revulsion in the whiskied warmth of Jake’s scent. Phin wanted to do licking his skin, taste the mellifluous flavours in that symphony of smells. Do snuffling at him, everywhere.
It was most odd to do staring down his own nose; as wet and shiny as rubber in the rain. When Phin’s snoot brushed skin, it was all but blitzed with taser sensations that did snatching his breath away. Jake. Mine. Mate. Moonlight lapping the proud bone structure of his noble face, a single rogue tendril of hair falling over one eye, quivering like a liquorice lace.
The skin snuffle made Jake’s heady scent do transferring to Phin’s nose; a wondrous thing when the whiff would linger there to do licking later. A thought that made Phin’s tongue do lolling out in a laugh like Jack’s. He couldn’t resist returning the wink that had confirmed Jake’s presence, despite the fact he’d looked a very lot like ‘Jack’.
Phin hadn’t done realising just how true those suspicions had been. With every passing second, it felt clearer that he hadn’t done changing a jot. Inside. Having scarce known his new self for five minutes, there was much to do discovering, but Phin did feel uncannily akin to a furrier Phineas Finley. That, was his mum’s fault, she had a bit of a thing for certain Irish Members, so the minx had made the most of her new surname to do tinkering with Trollope. Crikey, Phin’s marbles were scattered all over the shop, sending random snippets skittering hither ‘n’ thither.
His dangling tongue made Jake’s lips do twerking with recognition, an expression so scrumptious, Phin couldn’t resist a little lap. Blimey’n’bejeezus…his taste buds almost did detonating. He seemed to have a helluva lot of them. On a veery lot of tongue. It made Jake splutter a snort and swipe a palm across his face, which was a tad soggy with slurp, but he didn’t seem to do minding overmuch. Phin had very lot of everything, in truth. Fur, teeth, legs. He did, in fact, have six of those—but not all at once, obviously—that would be excessive. The legs Phin was wearing couldn’t p’raps claim to be ‘moderate’ either. He hadn’t done standing up yet, but surely Jack’s legs didn’t look like that.
Jack. Phin could feel him. Doing Waiting. Just as Jake had promised when Phin was afraid to do changing. Afraid that the too muchness might injure Jake. That might have been daft when Jake would o’course do healing…but that didn’t make the fear of hurting him any less horrific.
“Fuck, look at you…” That seemed to fall from Jake’s lips unbidden, as if had done slipping out to air itself, without asking first.
Nevertheless, Phin gave himself a quick glance over, perchance he’d misread matters and something had gone amiss. All seemed to be present and correct, so he returned his gaze to Jake’s face and did tilting his head in an enquiring sort of way, hoping Jake might elaborate a bit.
How Phin wished he knew what Jake was thinking. Feelings were another fish of kettles; he could do scenting many, many, things…too much to identify so soon. One niff was elevated beyond all others—in the nose of the beholder anyhoo—the floaty whiff of relief. Sort of similar to ‘fresh linen’ Febreze…rather than sour with repulsion, as Phin had feared. It was more…complex than simple relief; entwined with another, like strands in a skein of embroidery silk. A scent as heady as a balmy sea breeze…Exhilaration?
Phin mustn’t do letting himself get too giddy on it (even if his supersnoot spoke true) or do making mountains from molehills. That was one of Phin’s very best things…even before being handed a superpowered spade. ‘Acceptance’ was a wonderful thing, but it was far, far from…forever. He was terrified to let himself do sky writing pipedreams about, even in his head.
“I…feared…I might resent you, but I don’t…” Jake mused, at last; Phin had a tangled bag of knitting that needed sorting. “I didn’t expect you to still seem so…Phin. But I do, which is weird, when I don’t feel…well, I’ve always considered Jack in me. Not me…and yet, your eyes, they’re his. I can see Phin…you. Fuck.”
Jake’s words had done confirming some of Phin’s suspicions (he was a mannerly jackal and that sounded po-liter than confirmed stuff he knew damn well). Somehow. He could feel Jack’s presence too; sort of separate but the same, which was weird, when Phin sure didn’t feel like a passenger. Whereas Jake made Jack do sitting in a sidecar like Gromit while he was driving…did they switch places when it was Jack’s turn to do steering? Jake, decked out in a crash-helmet and goggles and sporting a flappaway scarf was an image so irresistible it made Phin’s tongue do lolling in a laugh again.
“What are you yukking it up about?” Jake chuckled, reaching out to ruffle Phin’s ears.
Oooooh…it was more luscious than the shiversome feel of fingertips trailing across the skin at Phin’s nape. He couldn’t do stopping the snuff that flitted free alongside a little whimper. He wanted…he wasn’t actually sure; toomuch to untangle. It was a gnarly knot of need, one he couldn’t be bothered to do unpicking, when it made far more sense to follow his nose.
Phin did want one thing above all else. His entire body ached; yearning for Jake to do wrapping his arms around his furry self and say it was okay…he still wanted Phin. He had lots more longings; to run with the wind, to feel the earth and grass beneath his paws…the rippling glide of muscle over bone. To breathe the salty clean scent of seaside air…and scamper across the moors with Jack. He was hungry, too. Ravenous, for everything; to taste, touch, smell, see, hear…feel… Do experiencing the world through his new eyes. Phin had sprung to his paws before he’d finished thinking that.
Jake’s instincts made him do jumping back a bit…but he was a tad too naked to have made pouncing seem a splendid plan. Particularly when Phin couldn’t be sure which way his legs might do skittering. Swiping Jake with an unwieldy paw or claw and despoiling his skin would be unbearable, even for the seconds it would take to heal. It was gleaming burnished gold in the dusky light of darkness…far too beautiful to believe the delirious things insisted by his hazy rememberings.
“Strewth…” Jake looked a smidge startled and did blinking a bit. Daftie, when he’d sure as strewth seen a jackal before. Phin did tilting his head again and donned a befuddled face. “Your bloody legs…” Jake was gesticulating at said limbs as if Phin had got carrots, or sausages instead of four furry appendages. “Christ, if they were any longer I’d be able to ride you.”
Phin’s eyeballs almost did plopping on the bed. Blimey, now there was a thought worth savouring, in any way, shape, or form. The rush of fizzy anticipation that did zipping through Phin’s system made him do…sort of staggering to the floor. Whoa…a wee bit wibbly. It was not a jot like one of Jack’s limber leaps…more akin to tottering about in his mum’s high heels. When Phin was five…or um, thereabouts. He appeared to have a lot more legs than four suggested, flailing off on a whim.
He wanted to look through the window, so Phin did um, plonking his front paws on the sill for a peer into the night. He could do hearing it call to him. Another little whimper escaped when he pressed his nose to the glass and snuffed out a breath to make a cloudy patch. How he wished he could do drawing a heart in it for Jake. A snoot-smudge would be a bit rubbish.
Phin’s senses went off like an air-raid siren when Jake did taking a step forward. One more would bring him to Phin’s side. His entire self seemed to do exhaling when Jake’s proximity thrilled through his veins. Bewitching blue; darker, deeper now, flecked with flakes of gold, ensnared Phin’s gaze. Like falling into lagoons kissed by sunshine.
Despite fearing that Jake would do flinching from him, the need to nestle closer was suffocating. So Phin risked pressing the top of his head into the curve of Jake’s neck, praying he wouldn’t be pushed away. Never had Phin done underestimating Jake more. Not even by considering him a mere human. Jake just raised his arm and did curving it over Phin’s back, tucking him in tighter. His palm was a warm weight on Phin’s furry midriff. The thrum-thrum of his heart was the most wonderful sound in all the world, as strong and sure as Jack’s noble stance. It sent Phin’s insides all pralines ‘n’ creamy with pleasure.
Jake didn’t do speaking, he simply stood, holding Phin close as they stared into the night, sultry with starlight and promise.