For Silence's Sake

So, Stephanie dove down onto his cock as he continued his attention to her engorged lips and clit.

-------

Sampson laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes an image would form. An oval face, surrounded by blond curls, holding summer blue eyes with a somewhat delicate nose and chin.

And Sampson would remember Phillip's scent. And his cock would rise.

And it would take him a while to calm down again as he tried to think of pack matters, like the repair and reconstruction of a couple of the outbuildings. And then he would think of Phillip's lips, mouth a little large for his face, lips full and dark pink. And the feeling of his hands holding his face.

And thought of what his body would look like.

And his cock would rise again.

Sampson sighed, and took hold, and groaned. Well, he would sleep then.

So, he stroked his shaft, rubbing his thumb over the tip. Feeling the fullness, the firmness, the pressure from his own hands. It morphed to bobbing blond curls, and the warm wetness of a mouth.

So caught up, was he, in the fantasy, that the orgasm caught him off guard.

His entire body tightened, almost painfully, before his cock spewed gobs of creamy spunk onto his chest and belly.

Spent, he cleaned up a little, rolled onto his side, and dropped into sleep.

-------

The next day was the dark moon. And, while it was the last day of the unmated gathering, the gathering would end earlier in the day to allow some of the packs to take care of the business that was normally dealt with on the new moon. There was some grumbling at that but most wolves who would find a mate there would have already made a connection.

The third day was almost just an excuse to avoid duties, eat and drink, and to fuck someone not pack.

Sampson went to his Alpha that morning to tell him he would not be attending the last day. Calvin looked at his friend, his Beta. "What makes this third day different from the other two? I told you you were to attend."

"Alpha, the new moon... my duties..."

Calvin glanced at his mate, Stephanie, and back to Sampson. "A few more hours without your presence will not hobble us. Don't you think it may be possible to find your mate there?"

The Alphas both heard it, the increase in his heart rate, and smelled the quick spike of fear. Stephanie sent, [Fear. There's someone there he's afraid of.]

Calvin looked over and smiled. Stephanie had been held for years by a small pack of rogues, to satisfy their sexual and sadistic urges. Though free of them for decades, she had fought his overtures.

[Like you were afraid, little one. I believe our Beta may have found his mate.]

Sampson was unusual in pack society but his Alphas both knew what he was - a male who did not find females attractive.

Calvin stood, holding out his hand to his mate. "It's time to renew the markers, little one." They would run the outside edge of the range this day, marking the edge of Ross territory.

He looked down at Sampson. "I told you to attend this gathering. You have given me no reason to allow you to stay home today. You will go and only return when it ends."

Sampson never lifted his eyes. "Yes, my Alpha."

-------

Roland had gone to the first day of the unmated gathering. He had done so reluctantly as he thought he might have already found his mate within the pack. But Sally was underage and they could have no sort of relationship for years.

And, so, the Alphas thought it might still be possible for their son to find his mate at the gathering. They had impressed upon him a duty to attend.

He had managed to avoid Cyn and Diana for the first couple of hours but they ended up cornering him in a walled garden. Between the two of them, they got him on the ground. Diana bared her breasts and was grinding against his crotch. Cyn had captured his mouth, kissing him deeply, fiercely.

It had taken time for him to extricate himself. His conscience was at war. He was a young, virile male, Alpha heir. He had no reason to restrain his sexual urges. The pleasure to be had with a willing female, ah.

But, Sally. He felt a pull. Wanted to protect her, be near her.

But she was only 11. If he wanted to be her mate, if she wanted to be his mate, he had to wait years. Seven years. Seven. Long. Years.

Was he supposed to deny himself that long?

So, on the last day of the gathering, after they had seen to May's passing, he went back.

He fought a Ross male, for practice. He fought a Severn female and, afterwards, lost himself in her.

Twice.

-------

Sampson had also returned to the gathering, albeit reluctantly.

He nibbled on a few things at lunch, grabbed a beer, and wandered off to the west. He found a conveniently fallen log and sat, musing.

The scents of rutting wolves came on the breeze and he grimaced. This is what had kept him from gatherings before. Smelling the others, their joinings, when he wasn't going to have that.

Sampson closed his eyes. Phillip. Was it real? Was it possible? Would the packs allow it?

He'd never been kissed by a male before. It was, disconcerting.

Sampson sighed. He was Beta. He was decisive. He wasn't supposed to have doubts like this.

He felt a hand on the side of his head.

He jumped. The beer went flying. And he landed on his back.

Steeling himself, Sampson opened his eyes and looked up.

Lips pursed, the corners of his mouth quirked, Phillip was trying his damnedest not to laugh. Sampson snorted and shook his head. And it started, deep, hearty, from the belly. He doubled over. Blond curls bobbed.

It took a couple of minutes before he was able to speak and, even then, it was fragmented. "Sorry. It's just... You... That was... so funny."

He put out a hand. Sampson didn't need help up but he took the proffered hand. Phillip pulled him up, hugged him, and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

Sampson froze, a panicked look on his face.

Phillip pulled back, looking confused and concerned.

"Phillip, how old are you?"

Phillip kept a hand on his arm. "Phil, please, Beta. My father calls me Phillip. I'm 22. What's wrong?"

So young. So, so, young. "Phil, then." Sampson inhaled, then sat. Phil sat next to him. "I've spent more than twice your lifespan avoiding this, afraid to let anyone know what I am. Afraid of what others would think, how they'd see me. That I might be cast out."

Phil's face fell. "Cast... out?" His eyes flicked around. "Would they do that? Why would they do that?" He was starting to panic.

[Phil, calm down.] Phil took a deep breath and blew it out. "There are no provisions that I'm aware of, in any pack, for something like this. My Alpha has accepted my... difference. But the others, I don't think, are aware. I'm not sure what would happen."

"Do you think someone might attack you?"

"There are those who would not like it, who would feel threatened. I would not be surprised."

"So, are you saying we can't... shouldn't? That it's wrong?"

"Have you ever been with a female, Phil?"

"I never.. I mean.." Phil inhaled, exhaled. "I never, never really liked their scents. The look of their bodies. But, yes, everybody else did. They looked at me funny because I didn't chase them. So, I tried it. It wasn't..." He stopped.

"As did I. Then never again." A pause. "Does your Alpha know?"

"Not sure. I didn't tell him."

"He may suspect."

"Why? Why are you making this so hard? Can't we just...?" An exhale. "You smell good. I'm attracted to you. Don't you like me?"

So young and unsure. But Sampson was older, a Beta, and had considered the ramifications of a relationship with another male.

"Do you think it's wrong?"

Sampson looked at the young, earnest face. Looked into those summer blue eyes. "Neither of us chose to be different, Phil. How can it be wrong? But we are, as you well know, unusual. Changes make people nervous. We should proceed cautiously."

Phil put a hand on the other side of Sampson's neck, nuzzled it, and inhaled, closing his eyes. [Beta, you think too much...]

Sampson's hand went to the back of Phil's head. Phil's other hand wandered across Sampson's chest. Sampson sucked in a breath.

[Let me see your wolf.]

Phil stood, faced Sampson, and, smiling, pulled his shirt over his head. Sampson looked over his chest. Muscles a little soft but defined. Not a fighter. Curled blond hairs in a palm-sized patch between his nipples. Phil's hands dropped to his waist and slid toward the button. Sampson's eyes lit there, noticing the line of hair rising from that area. He closed his eyes.

Phil watched him look over his chest. Watched him follow his hands to his waistband. Then those brown eyes closed.

Why had he closed his eyes? Didn't he like what he saw? Phil was really, really attracted to Sampson, almost salivating. What if Sampson didn't like him?

His wolf. Phil dropped his pants and shifted. [Um. OK.]