Work Text:
His Cheerleader
by Pirate Turner
"But, Tommy," Merton whined, "I just want to stand by my man!"
Tommy growled softly as he shook Merton's shoulders, his fingers digging in a little harder than he intended. "You're not cheerleading at school, Merton, and that's final!" he snarled, his eyes flashing on yellow.
Merton's eyes were already huge, but now they shimmered with tears. "You don't want any one to know we're together, do you?" he wailed. "You just want to keep us hidden in the closet forever?! You're -- You're ashamed of me!" Twin tears dropped from his dark eyes and ran down his cheeks only to be caught by Tommy's finger.
Tommy wiped Merton's tears away with one hand while holding him firmly to the spot with the other. He knew he wanted to run from the needless pain that welled within him, but he wasn't about to let him go until they were clear. "I am not ashamed of you," he growled. "I am . . . I . . . " He wanted to speak flowery for the first time in his life. He wanted to be able to tell him of the emotions just one look from him sent raging through his blood stream, but he had never been much of one for words. "I love you, Merton," he concluded, feeling as though the words were far too weak for how he truly felt.
"Then why don't you want them to know?"
Tommy sighed, his eyes still gazing into his best friend's. "How often do they already pick on you, Mert?"
"All the time," the Goth admitted slowly with a confused shake of his head, "but what does that have to do with this?"
"Merton, they already make me want to kill them every time I hear them laugh at you or make any kind of snide. I don't know how long I can control the wolf when every time they even so much as look at you I want to rip their throats out." His voice even then was bordering on a savage growl, and he felt fur beginning to bristle on his hands. He raised his left hand from his shoulder to his face and felt Merton's skin shiver underneath his furry paw. "You shake me up in so many ways, and I love you more than I know how to say, but I know one day I'm going to lose my temper, unleash the wolf entirely, and I don't want you being anywhere near when that happens."
The tears had disappeared from his eyes, and his heart swelled at Tommy's words. Still, however, confusion lingered. "But, Tommy, what does that have to do with me cheerleading?"
"One, they already pick on you far more than they should. Becoming a cheerleader would only give them more ammunition. Two, you already encourage me every day, Merton," Tommy admitted with a half-sly, half-shy grin. "I guess you might say you're already my number one cheerleader. I don't need you cheering me on at the games when you already do in every corner of my life. No matter what, you're behind me, and you're beside me when I let you. I know that, and that's more than I could have ever asked for. You never run from me; you always love me." He grinned a lupine grin at him, his glistening fangs curving upward in a way that appeared adoringly to Merton. "That's all I ever want from you."
"But, Tommy -- "
"Why does it matter if they know or not? It's not that I'm ashamed of you; I know you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. It's just that I don't want them making fun of you or hurting you any more, and especially not because of me. I can't be with you to guard you 24/7, but I would if I could. But still why should it matter what anybody else thinks as long as we know the truth?"
"I . . . I guess it doesn't," Merton said slowly. "I just -- I'm so proud to be your man, Tommy. You say you're the lucky one, but I know I am."
Tommy raised both furry hands to cup Merton's face. "We're both lucky," he compromised. "Finding each other is the best thing that's happened to either one of us, and it's the only thing that makes this curse worth baring." He kissed him then, hoping to silence all the crazy talk of becoming a cheerleader, and when Merton's lips parted underneath his, welcoming his embrace and meeting his passionate assault with equal fury, his last thought before succumbing to the passion was that he hoped he'd never have to have this conversation again. It didn't matter who thought what or who cheered him on on the game field. Merton was the only one who counted to him, and as long as he had his love and support, nothing else really mattered. He gave in to the passion willingly, a howl bursting in the back of his throat only to be hushed to a whimper by Merton's wild kisses, and his tail stood high.
The End