Wafflish

Beast of Bodmin Moor 45

The Beast of Bodmin Moor

Chapter 45…in which we go all the way, so you might not wish to…

 

 

 

 

Jack

 

The smells saturating the night air had never seemed so heady, but all were eclipsed by the sylvan, cassia-steeped scent that had stolen Jack’s heart. How he’d longed for this moment…fearing it might never come. That he might never find Him, despite some inner certainty insisting that He was out there…somewhere…waiting for Jack to claim him as his own.

Even the breeze seemed to bow to the magnificence of the moment. Jack heard, felt, PJ’s whimper of want thrill through his veins as he turned…to face the destiny Jake had sworn they did not deserve. So, so, sure that fate itself would turn its back on him in disgust; a despair Jack had been drowning in for two years…but the purgatory of waiting was over.

PJbeyond beautiful…and those eyes; breathtaking when worn by his human self. Now? They were hypnotic, as eternal as they were enchanting. A brown so deep it bled into black, even as it burned amber flame. Like tumbling into molten magma.

There was no trace of regret in PJ’s scent, only love…longing…lust. A happiness as pure, unsullied as his soul.  It didn’t matter which form Jake was wearing, just as Jack had known…but Jake was quite capable of miring even the most hopeful of hearts in misery. Particularly on those dark, dread, wallowing-in-whiskey days, when it was like trying to keep a flicker of hope aflame in a boggy marsh. It hadn’t taken Jack long to realise that the only way of dealing with Mr Mope in that sort of mood, was to snap him out of it. Literally. Jake had been surprised that Jack hadn’t done so earlier, but their form had never mattered as much as Jake was hell-bent on believing.

Nevertheless, if he’d convinced himself it mattered, then of course it did, by default. Even if it didn’t. So…letting him spend some time with ‘PJ’ before Jack claimed Phin as their own had felt important. Necessary. Good grief, he was hard work. The fact that Jack’s very own black dog stomped about on two legs had not escaped his notice…

…Nor had the realisation that PJ was still taller than him. What the? Jack should, by rights, be taller, surely? He’d sired PJ. Someone, somewhere, had a very twisted sense of humour. Bestowing a black-dog human and a half-giraffe mate on Jack really was excessive.

And you wonder why I get so pissed off?

You might have a point.

Hallefuckinglujah.

Are they truly toomuch, or…

As hot as hell?

Oh yes. Shut up for a bit now, I’m busy.

I’d better be able to feel this, or I’m going to be very hacked off. Just sayin’.

If you shut your steak hole, you’ll soon find out.

Humans…who’d have em? Jack thought all of this in the blink of an eye it took to inhale a lungful of scintillating scent. 100% Proof Pure PJ. If Jack was a cartoon creature, then his eyes would have done swirling like whirlpools just before he swooned flat on his back on the grass. Splayed like a jackal-skin rug.

PJ did not flinch from Jack (as Jake still half-feared he might. The loon would be better served by concerning himself with his sanity) when he nudged their noses together. This was only polite after all; it would have been rather forward to just jump him. Most uncourtly behaviour, Jack deserved a rosette for gallantry at the very least. Particularly when the waves of want radiating from PJechoing through Jacksuggested he wouldn’t find this unseemly in the slightest. In fact, his pulse rate accelerated to such a pace it was a miracle PJ managed to hold still. Jack leaned in close to nuzzle a silken cheek; fur so soft, its scent as alluring as it was intoxicating. It also transferred itself to his own fur, so he would be able to wear it, carry it with him wherever he went. A thought not even Jake could be embarrassed about, because PJ had felt exactly the same when he’d snuffled their human self, and they knew it. A truth so affirming that Jack couldn’t resist swiping a rather luxuriant lick across PJ’s face with a wink before springing away and scampering off.

“C’mon!” he called over his shoulder and felt an answering rush of exhilaration thrill through PJ as he set off in hot pursuit. If only he’d stopped just as sharpish…which was Jack’s fault. He should have taken better care to warn PJ he was about to slam the brakes on, but really…since when had running head first into a gate been a fine way to come to a halt? Or bouncing off the wall at the bottom of the stairs, for that matter?

Jack was going to need eyes up his arse. A thought that wasn’t going to help him focus on safety matters, that much was certain.

Oh hell…” he whined, sniffing at PJ’s head. Jack may have known he wasn’t bleeding, but the injury itself had intensified the need to be close, to comfort him, keep him safe. You daft pillock,” he heard himself gruff. 

Jack suspected that he would prefer Jake before he realised that voicing his views was possible. Quite why that hadn’t been bloody obvious in the first place was unfathomable. PJ stared down at his (excessive) legs before turning those magnificent eyes on his own (perfectly proportional) limbs. His implication obvious, even before he huffed:

“You want to try fandangling these. There’s toomuch of them.” PJ’s expression was priceless, too adorable to resist…butting him and springing away. 

Flirting, ’fess up. 

That would be uncouth. Courting him.

Uncouth? Unlike say…the eyes up his arse focusing issue?

Said snark paled into insignificance when those stargazy eyes lit up like sparklers and PJ leapt at Jack with a joyful woof. He dodged to take PJ out from the flank, leaving impossible legs skittering frantically in an effort to stay on all paws, but it was bambi-on-ice time again as down PJ went, swiping Jack’s legs from beneath him on the way. Jack scrambled straight back up and threw himself forwards to roll them over in the grass, tussling in an ecstatic tumble of touch, tongues, teeth and furry friction. Two words hammering out a heartbeat in his head; mine-mate…mimate …mimate.

“PJ…” he panted. “Moors…” 

The anticipation that blazed through PJ’s being when he scrambled to his paws was as breath snatching as their scuffle had been. Jack launched himself at the gate, arching through the air to land lightly on the scrubby path before shooting off into the trees. He knew PJ was following, he could hear, smell, feel his presence fast catching up, there was no need to check.

The dash to the moors was effervescence itself. It was bliss to indulge the simple joy of finally being free to run with the fur ruffling wind, to revel in the exhilarating pulse of power through his body and feel the earth beneath his paws. Best of all, to be running with PJ at his side…to share this night with his mate…at last. To feel the rapturous rush that wasn’t his own—incalculably intense all the same—staggering, even as an echo thrilling through Jack. Toomuch for one person to endure alone.

No longer. Every fibre of Jack’s being exalted in the physical exertion, free at last, liberated from the fathomless agony of human love…confounding creatures. Complicating everything. It was as pure and simple as spring water. Jack was PJ’s. PJ was his. It was binding, absolute; as inescapable as it was irrevocable…and as eternal as those enchanting eyes.

Every beat of Jack’s heart was pounding with raw, primal need. A lust too feral for the veneer of civility Jake clung to. Stripped back to the bone deep desire to claim PJ as his own…to imprint himself indelibly; heart, mind, body, soul. Mate… Mine.

 

***

 

PJ 

 

Running…running with the fur-ruffling wind, paws pounding a heartbeat tattoo. Jack…glorious in full-flow; his glossy coat rippling over lean muscle and sinewy strength, starlite eyes luminous in the darklight.

It only took a few minutes to do scampering up to the moors. His legs might have been a bit lollopy but they sure did speeding along with nary a care for the uphill incline. Jimjams felt sure he could do skittering up the side of a mountain without getting puffed out, unless he p’raps had a mishap and did falling off a ledge on the way to the summit.

“Y’okay?” Jack wuffed, tongue lolling in a big grin as they did bounding over some standing stones marking the edge of the moor.

“Yeah…” Their gazes locked; twinned in topaz—amber and blue—twinkling with anticipation. Jack radiated exhilaration after their run, exuding scents so luscious, Jimjams longed to do lapping them. His whole self was so full of fizzy static, he could scarce do waiting…a thought swiftly usurped by a flash of fear that made PJ’s heart do stuttering with a surge of panic.

“What’s wrong…?” The tinny tang of concern tainted Jack’s niff when he skidded to a halt.

“I’m just…worried you’ll be disappointed, after waiting so long.” PJ panted, stones skittering hither ‘n’ thither when he did jamming the brakes on. 

“PJ…” Jack did nudging Jimjams’ face with his nose. “That’s impossible. You know I’ve never done this, so I can’t say for sure but, you’re…mine. How could it not be right?”

“Jack…please do making me yours…properly.” PJ made his gaze as imploring as possible, hoping it might do expressing what was too much for words, but Jack knew how he felt. Speech sounds were superfluous.

“Grrrr…” Jack’s low rumble of thunder noise made Jimjams feel a smidge squiffy when his temperature did spiking as if it was shrieking scarlet. Jack’s scent intensified; growing richer, stronger, so laden with musk that the squiffiness soared to punch drunk. 

“Jack…”

“Mine…” he growled when he started to do slinking along the length of PJ’s body in a scintillating slither of fur on fur. Once he’d done prowling that side, Jack did a hairpin bend around his Jimjam bum to brush along his left flank. When Jack drew level, he did ghosting his nose across PJ’s ear. “I love you,” he breathed. The joy that did coursing through PJ’s body was so staggering it might have been too much for his human self to do containing.

Phin had believed he’d done hallucinating Jake’s words in his hazy half-rememberings before finally surrendering to the shift. So sure they’d been far too impossible to be true. A lingering conviction that made Jimjams do telling Jack; “You must be very bonkers but I still love you too.”

“Then lie down…” Jack bade him, bedazzling blues agleam with mischief in mind.

Blimey. Jimjams’ eyeballs all but did falling out of his head. The flash of lust that flared through his system sent all four legs so wibbly they almost followed orders before PJ could do folding them up to lower himself to the scrubby grass.

This had never even done crossing Phin’s mind; so jam-packed with pervy possibilities it was staggering that Jack had pulled off such a feat. Jimjams might be new to all this but try as he might, he could only rustle up one reason for Jack telling him to do lying down. 

Once PJ had done just that and rolled onto his side, Jack bent to nudge his left hind leg—resting atop his right—aside with his nose. That didn’t seem sufficient, so Jimjams shifted it a mite more, swinging it butterfly wings wide; which p’raps looked a smidge flagrant, it must be admitted. Ah well, having inhibitions had never been his very best thing and turning furry certainly hadn’t bestowed any on him. A bit of a no brainer when he was now scampering about, letting it all hang out with a fancy-free cock.

Streewth…When Jack dipped his head to do snuffling, it sent huffles of breath wafting across the shiny pink lollipop impression he was sporting. It was looking doubtful whether it would ever do fitting back inside his furry foreskin again. Jack didn’t seem to mind either way, as he promptly swiped it with a lick so luxuriant, Jimjams did jolting about three foot off the ground. It sure felt that way, even though he hadn’t done measuring.

It was a sluice of moist heat so brain-blitzing, his brain seemed torn between blowing up and doing melting out of his ears. Lap-lap-lappity-lap. Zonk. He wasn’t going to last five seconds, unless he did bursting into flames before those had elapsed. Jimjams’ whimpery noises sounded as if someone had done treading on his tail…but even those were drowned out by the slurpfest lavished on his not-so-private parts.

“Jack…stop…” PJ gasped, when he couldn’t do holding on any longer.

“Noooo…” he slurred, somehow.

Jimjams was past caring about anything, let alone shapeshifter speechifying. Jack was slurping his cock. He was going to do combusting. All too soon. Now, in fact.

“Ahwwooo!” Jimjams p’raps let rip with that racket when the heavens did exploding in a starburst cascade of white-light-heat and a blitz of bliss barnstormed his body.

Ooohhh…When PJ did prising his lids apart, he had to blink the hazy daze away before he could do focusing. On Jack. Just inches away; the blue ablaze with such staggering want, it could prob’ly do willing the world to stop turning. He also looked an itty bit…spattered, as if he’d been decorated with silvery trails of tinsel strands. Oops. 

“Y’okay?” Okay…? Other than feeling a very lot like his own charred corpse, Jimjams had never felt so fiiine. Although he wasn’t sure whether his legs would ever do working again.

“Hmmm…” PJ sighed, letting his tongue do lolling out and his eyes roll back in his head.

“You sure you’re not disappointed?” The topaz twinkled knowingly as Jack wuffed a chuckle.

“I just…Was worried I might do letting you down.”

“Impossible…” When Jack did nudging their noses together he whiffed so strongly of Phin’s foxy self that a wave of warm wonderment shimmered through his afterglow. 

“Jack, can I do sl—?”

“Later…” Jake interrupted, his gaze agleam with dark promise when he added “Now...I intend to make you mine.”

 

***

 

Jack

 

Nothing Jake had experienced as a jackal made Jack expect mating to feel less sublime than human sex with Phin, when his senses had been enhanced in every way. Not least when Jack knew that the deed he’d done to PJ felt mind-blowing. Well, really, who could resist when gifted with a spine which made such ministrations possible? And no hands? Nor sex for that matter, in either form, for two whole years?

“Y’okay?” Jack asked when PJ’s eyelashes fluttered open, revealing adorably dazed eyes. Possibly the most superfluous question ever uttered.

Fishing.

Courteous.

“Hmmm…” PJ indulged in another roadkill impression, except this one looked rather more ‘jackal with the jammy dodger’.

“You sure you’re not disappointed?” he chuckled.

Definitely fishing.

Pointing out that he need not worry, whatsoever.

Okay…” His bashful expression was the most beguiling of all. “I just…was worried I might do letting you down.”

“Impossible,” Jack assured him, nuzzling PJ’s nose…wishing he was equipped with a pair of lips like Jake’s when he found himself longing to kiss him. He’d never wished he could do something human before; Jake had been too hell bent on segregating ‘them’ as separate entities. Was Jake allowing the boundaries to blur, or was it happening despite himself? He was too wound up to even attempt untangling this latest batshit brain burp.

“Jack, can I do sl—?”

“Later…” Jack promised, far too fixated on mating matters to be sidetracked. “Now…I intend to make you mine.”

“Hmm..” A purr rumbled in PJ’s throat as those stargazy eyes flared flame, half a heartbeat before he sprang to all paws.

“C’mon…” Jack wuffed.

“Where—” PJ broke off when the amber smudged, softened, with understanding.

Jack just nodded and turned tail to shoot off across the moors, heading for the place so perfect—so utterly right—it needed no explanation. How long ago had he first allowed himself to approach PJ that night? A few days…a week, a lifetime ago…? A forever of waiting for him. Now, here they were; mere moments from the spot too sacred to be surpassed.

Jack slowed, savouring the moment, inhaling the crisp, clear air of the moor, still steeped in ancestry. About as untainted as it was possible to find for miles. As pure as it was perfect…PJ’s happy place. Theirs now.

“Thank you,” PJ nuzzled into Jack’s neck after slowing to a stop beside him. “It’s perfect.”

“Thank you…for you. PJ…I can’t promise it will b—”

“Jack, it already is, please…I need you to do filling me up.”

“Grrr…” A rich rumble sounded in his own throat when Jack pressed his face to PJ’s cheekbone, relishing the silken friction of fur. They were standing amidst tumbledown walls, on a patch of scrubby grass and springy moss; surrounded by ancient ruins. Beautiful beyond compare, as inimitable as… PJ padded a few paces forwards and stood, gazing up at the stars, drawing the night into his lungs, his tail lifted aloft, wafting with contentment. Almost knocking Jack out with a concentrated hit of scent.

Fuck…

My thoughts exactly.

His body was buzzing with so much suppressed energy, Jack was going to combust if he didn’t do as PJ had pleaded, sharpish. The feral intensity of the need was a force in itself; doubled, quadrupled, gaining momentum. Jack dipped his head to snuff the scent driving him half-demented with desire…when he flicked his tongue out, PJ shot about a foot in the air with a yip of surprise and a sharp gasp. His expression was so comical, Jack couldn’t stop a snicker escaping.

“Jack! I almost did biting my tongue off!”

“It would have grown back…” His own lolled in a laugh that made his eyes water. Oh gawd…

“You wait, Mister Lickalot…” PJ warned, a devilish glint ablaze in the molten gaze he skewered Jack with.

“Hmm…is that a promise or a threat?” 

“A promise,” PJ sniffed, nose in the air.

“I really hoped it was…” Jack’s tone deepened, darkening to a growl.

“Hmm…” PJ fluttered lustrous lashes, outright flirting now.

“You’re lethal. Nevertheless, you might want to brace yourself, or you’ll fall off your legs.”

“That’s one hell of a chat-up line,” PJ chuckled as he widened said limbs to steady himself. “Is that ’nuff? I feel like a furry tripod.”

Christ…I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. With frustration.

I couldn’t agree more. Odd that.

“It’s perfect, as are you. I…we love you.”

Thank you.

Y’welcome.

“I love you two…” A promise that made liquid fire thrill through Jack’s veins. There was nothing more to be said…and no words in the world for what followed.

His heart was pounding so hard it drowned out Jake’s fearsbliss in itselffreeing Jack to act on sheer instinct. When Jack leapt up to hug his forelegs to PJ’s flanks, the throaty purr that vibrated in PJ’s throat made every hair on Jack’s body quiver to attention. The relief was incalculable when the head of his cock was drawn inexorably to the intensity of heat at PJ’s core. Oh, how he’d feared his own fumbling ineptitude…failing him.

“Okay..” After dragging in a breath to steady himself, Jack thrust his hips forwards and buried himself home.

Fuck. The clutch of tight heat was so intense his human self could never have survived it intact. Fuelled still further by the bliss that blazed through PJ like wildfire and set Jack’s senses aflame. Time stood still, sped up, ceased to be. There was nothing, nothing but the scent of his mate, the sounds saturating the air and the intoxicating heat engulfing him. Mind-body-soul immersed in maddening bliss. Consumed by sensations Jack somehow felt as a spectrum of improbable colour…? He’d lost his marbles…which didn’t matter. Nothing did, except staking his claim on the most enchanting creature on Earth. Imprinting himself as indelibly on PJ’s heart as his body. Jack no longer knew where he stopped and PJ began, no notion of ever existing in any other form. There was only this—them—no pointless human complexity. Just one incandescent moment in time, when everything made absolute sense.

Jack flexed his hips, driving himself deep, ever deeper, into the mate he’d waited a lifetime for, feared he would never find. The utter perfection of pure, primal need stripped back to blood and bone and the pounding heartbeats of twin souls. As irrevocable as the jackal bond now binding them together…and the love that ensured neither would ache to break it. 

“Jack…I need..to do coming…”

Fuck…I’d feared—

So did I… 

The surge of relief that flooded his system was euphoric. Jack had feared it might be impossible, without a helping hand…which was, in part, why he’d felt compelled to ensure PJ wasn’t left wanting before they began. It was all he could do to pant ‘yess’ before a white-hot bolt of ecstasy blazed through Jack’s body in a rapturous rush. Too intense for human comprehension, too intoxicating to survive sane. PJ was absinthe to his senses. His own dance unto death with the green fairy…la fée verte of lore.

His Phin Jackal…too too much to be gifted with. Jack would never, ever have enough.

 

***

 

2 thoughts on “Beast of Bodmin Moor 45

  1. Aw these two do so melt my heart! As gorgeous in their doggy forms as ever they are in their human skins! I’m soooooo glad everything is working out for them both, such marvellous, heart-warming, delightfully incorrigible characters as they utterly deserve their happy-ever-after! 🥰🥰🥰

    Liked by 1 person

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