This made the third visit to his bed for the academic photographer. When he had reconnected with his old school mate, Jaxon had nothing more than a one off fling in mind. Not that there was anything wrong with the artist, quite the opposite even--Jaxon liked the mind of the other man--and O was undeniably easy on the eyes. But that didn't matter. Jax couldn't do relationships. Not unless the other person had the same or a similar problem to his were affliction. Which, he well-knew was not the case with Oriel. He could always smell another wolf or a vamp. @oriel was pure wizard.

But then they had run into each other in Hogsmeade...they had eaten together--and inevitably found themselves back in the seeker's eight hundred thread count Egyptian cotton sheets. Then, there had been breakfast the morning after...and owls since. He knew it was a mistake, but when Oriel had suggested they get together for coffee, Jaxon had not wanted to turn down the chance for a bit of fun and good company. He still wasn't thinking of them as a couple or something serious, but his bed was empty...and he was feeling lonely and maybe even a touch needy.

The full moon was tonight--which meant while he wasn't feeling his best, his sexual appetite was at its peak. Just come over- had been his reply to the invitation. Oriel had obviously been willing to accept the alternative plans, seeing as how the man was now reclined against the plethora of pillows heaped at the head of Jaxon's bed. The man had come over near lunchtime, but food had held little appeal (at least for the werewolf). The proximity to the full moon made him a touch weaker and as such, he was more gentle with his affections. The actions weren't a stark contrast to the times before, but still somewhat different.

He hadn't even realized the day had swept away from him until he extracted himself from the tangle of limbs and looked out the window. The sun was sinking low. Shit. Oriel needed to leave--and now. Fuck, fuck, fuck- Jaxon with the help of the McHalen's had ridded himself of the need for the Wolfsbane potion by embracing the wolf in him, but that didn't mean he wanted to risk it. He thought he was in control, but it was not as if he spent full moons around humans. He went to the woods. He hunted big game. He fought other wolves on occasion. He did not want Oriel anywhere near the cabin with the moon coming for him.

Pulling on a pair of lounge pants, he left the bedroom and padded down to the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee and watched as Oriel descended the stairs. There was no good way to do this. So, Jax put on his mask of indifference. He didn't offer Oriel any coffee. He didn't suggest dinner. All he said was: "That was fun." His flirty smile wasn't present as he reclined against the counter. "But, uh..." Long boney fingers ruffled his messy sex hair, doing nothing to tame the curly mane framing his boyish face. He really sucked at being mean to someone--especially someone he unfortunately seemed to like the company of.

The last time Oriel had woken up at Jaxon's house, the bed had been empty as well. The last time, he'd suspected Jaxon had gone out for a morning run, but this time it wasn't the morning. The man had gotten up anyway, and Oriel had felt slightly unwilling to stay in bed by himself. As comfortable as the pillows and the soft sheets were, and as worn out as he was too, he just didn't feel like he should stay lying down. There had been something off about the other man today. Not overly off, nothing obvious, but he'd seemed.... more touch-starved than before. Which was baffling because while they hadn't shagged in like a week, he had no doubt the other man had slept with other people in between.

He'd been a bit... needier. Just barely softer. And Oriel hadn't hesitated to comply.

Now, though, he got to his feet again. It took a small while to find his clothing, but he only put on the lower half of his clothing sans the shoes. The wand was still in his pocket, so he ran his fingers through his hair and started using some untangling charms on his long tresses. The good part about having long hair was that he not only looked good, but his partners usually took handfuls of it and pulled. The bad part was... well, it was always a mess after these encounters.

"You know, I'd ask you for a brush if I didn't doubt that you actually have one-" When he arrived at the kitchen, Oriel's pleasant smile faded a bit. Well, Jaxon seemed definitely off now. But. He'd said. A twinge of doubt coursed through him. Surely that couldn't be it? It was their third round; all had been casual, but the second time had been less one-stand-ish than the first. Something was wrong and Oriel didn't like where this was going.

"Jax, are you alright?" He asked, staying where he was instead of approaching the other.

Anxiety was building in the seeker's chest with each passing moment. The night was coming and would bring with it the full moon. He had offered his home and lands as sanctuary to fellow wolves--what if Larissa sent some? He had urged Ris to do just that the last time he visited her in Knockturn. Oriel needed to N O T be here. Why had Jaxon let himself get in this situation? Telling himself that by having Oriel over early in the day there was practically no chance anything could go wrong--that it would all be fine--as if he hadn't known the extent of his sexual appetite.

The affection had not even managed to bring him back to human feeling. The lingering kisses--the gentler touches---he'd needed them. He was a needy sort, in the way that he craved affirmation and physical contact. He needed the praise--needed to be someone's obsession, their addiction. Being with Jaxon Cole was an unhealthy phenomena for those unlucky enough to make it to his bed more than once. He feigned like he was a giver--by always being the attentive lover. But for all the seeker gave, he took exponentially. The way he kept so many rotating through his bed, how could any single lover feel special? But he managed it. Managed to build up his favorites with flirtations, compliments, charm and kindness--woo them when in his presence, til how could one not feel special?

Oriel came down the stairs, hair all a mess. The very sight was a testament to the deviant delights of the afternoon. The photographer seemed keen on removing this bit of evidentary proof, but O was quite out of luck. There was no brush in the cabin---unless Rom or some other playmate had left one here. "Yeah, you're out of luck on that," the Cole offered as a short, flat response. He had to get rid of Oriel. The sun was sinking to the horizon. It was past time for the other man to go. No matter what Jax had to say or do to get him out of there. He had no choice. Even with how he enjoyed Oriel's company, there was no way he was going to risk exposure of his secret. He couldn't trust the other man with that. Not now--and likely not ever. Only other werewolves knew of Jaxon's affliction--and he wanted to keep it that way.

The handsome academic was not coming any closer to him. Jaxon was thankful for this. Just as he had been desperate earlier for contact, now, he would have recoiled from it. The aches and pains in his body were getting worse. Like the McHalens, Jaxon was a Wolfsbane free werewolf. He accepted and embraced his transformations, but never risked being around humans, always hunting his lands during the full moon. He was not about to test his resolve by having Oriel on the property.

But--Fuck, he felt like shit. And apparently that showed... Oriel asked after his well-being and Jaxon shook his head. "Nah. I ain't." There was no warmth in his voice. No flirtation, no emotion at all really. Just flat. His drawl even seemed diminished in the moment.

Oh, no. With every word Jaxon said, in that detached tone that was so different from his usual one, Oriel's fear grew. Well, not fear, not anxiety, just... and overwhelming feeling he'd been here before. He'd not had any illusions about any of this. He knew they meant nothing, no strings attached, but that didn't mean one couldn't find value in the other. He himself had not grown attached -hadn't he? it was a miracle, what with Jaxon's... everything- but he liked and respected the other man. Jaxon treated him well, he was a nice person, Oriel enjoyed his company. 

Now, however, it was starting to resemble various previous encounters he'd had. The type that left him wallowing in sorrow and humiliation. Because he'd been here before. He'd been on this very spot, watching a previously enthusiastic and caring lover suddenly turn cold, suddenly cast him aside as if he were nothing. Because to all of them, he'd been nothing more than a body. There'd been no care about who he was and what he thought or anything like that. He'd not even been a bloke they knew which they shagged -keeping it casual- because then one would still value the other person, one would still respect them. This? This was to much like that, and he wanted to believe Jaxon wasn't like that. He might have many partners, might never be interested in anyone too long, but he wasn't cruel.

"Yeah, I figured." He muttered, his mouth going dry and not in a good way. 

Jaxon looked as handsome as ever. Oriel remembered what he'd seen on that first photoshoot, someone shining as bright as the sun, warming everyone around him. Suns could obviously burn, but Oriel was still hoping he wouldn't be. He was more than alright with keeping things casual, more than alright with Jaxon and himself never being interested in anything more, but he wasn't alright with being used and thrown out. He didn't know if he'd be able to handle that again.

"Well, what can I do to help?" Oriel offered. Merlin, merlin, don't do this.

Jaxon could feel the temperature dropping in the room. The air between them seeming to change from warm and inviting to cold and distant. He was shutting down. His self-preservation instincts were taking over to push Oriel away. It had to be done. There was no choice in the matter. Jax might have enjoyed Oriel's company, even shared the Puddlemere news with him before anyone else really knew (though that had been coincidence more than planning), but there was not the kind of trust between them now (and maybe ever) that would allow him to be truthful now about why that Oriel had to go.

The werewolf looked considerably worse for wear. He hadn't looked his best with Oriel arrived, but the telltale signs of his body's anticipation of the transformation tonight were growing more apparent. His face had lost its warm and a good deal of its color. Hints of darkening under his eyes gave him the appearance of having not slept in ages.

"I don't there is shit to be done." His emotionless words sounded flat even to him. He did not want to have to go all the way and actually kick Oriel out of his house. He wanted the man to just take the hint and go. It would easier that way--maybe not ruin whatever was building between them. Jaxon could make up for being cold, but shagging someone for hours only to boot them from the house straight away would be a hell of a lot more difficult to make up for.

But time was running short, if O didn't take the hint soon, Jax would just have to be the bad guy--

Of course. Of course, how could it be any different? How could Oriel ever have expected anything other than what was happening here? It wasn't about attachment or about any kind of feelings, it was about being treated like he was more than a shag... and acquaintance maybe, someone who you had fun with? But not, oh, yeah, we just slept together, now get out. If Jaxon had wanted it to be that way, then he should never have set the precedent last time, in which he didn't expect Oriel to leave as soon as they were done. In which they'd actually had a conversation that was not wrought with innuendos.

Don't get him wrong, he could deal with having sex and just leaving, if it was once. But now? Now was the third time they'd done this, and by then one would expect at least a cup of coffee or a smile when getting up. But no, of course not, because Jaxon took what he wanted and then left again. Just like every other partner he'd had. Of course. Anything else would have been surreal.

"Right." Oriel's face shut off. He'd been through this too many times to take it even remotely close to well. "I know when I'm not wanted."

Without saying another word he turned on his heel, going to collect his stuff.

It was working...and that was what he wanted--what he NEEDED. But even knowing that, he absolutely hated it being this way. His body was aching--but now his heart was too. Jaxon was not the type to mistreat others. He wasn't cruel. He wasn't cold. He hated even trying to pretend to be this way. The logic of why it needed to be done could not really reach to the emotional, kind side of him.

These were the moments he most missed how he had once been---carefree and always warm. If he'd been with Oriel back before he'd been bitten, he'd have loved the other man fearlessly with the reckless abandon that only someone who had suffered great loss was able to.

Now, he didn't let himself love at all. He couldn't. Or when he did that meant he had to take a step back---like with Lilybelle. He loved her. He loved her deeply--and that was why did was not with her. No one deserved a werewolf for a partner with things the way they were with the Ministry. He could never be with someone, not really, not until the rebellion had managed to secure the change so desperately needed.

His lips stayed pressed together, even though inside he was objecting to the words that Oriel had spoken. He wanted to say how that it wasn't Oriel--and that it was all Jax, but that line could never seem sincere when it was heard. No one believed the it's not you, it's me cliche. But this time it was true...

But Jax said nothing. He just watched as Oriel retreated from him. Eventually the seeker did follow the path the photographer had taken. Every moment brought more weariness. Darkness--and the moon--were coming soon. He could feel the danger of what was to come building. He needed to get outside. Oriel needed to get far away from here.

Seemingly out the blue, Jaxon lost control and yelled: "Can you just GET THE FUCK OUT already?" His face looked pained--and his eyes shone with suffering, but he didn't take any measure to disguise it. Not like Oriel would notice with Jaxon behaving like he was.

Oriel had been picking up his shirt to put it on when the other man's outburst had rung through the silence. He immediately flinched, freezing for a few seconds. Oh, that his a bit too close to home. It wasn't like his previous relationships had ever had physical abuse... but barely. And Jaxon's extreme change in attitude really hurt. He felt... disappointed, beside the obvious pain. It was just another repeat, he was just like anyone else, and Oriel had let him burn him. He had enough burn scars as it was without adding more.

"Right, yeah." His voice was nearly a whisper as he got his shirt and shoes on at a record pace. His hands were shaking, he knew, but it was just because he didn't deal well with people yelling at him... or tossing him out like garbage either, if he was being honest.

He brushed past the other man without looking at him, hurrying down the stairs and to the front door. He opened it, almost pulling it off his hinges in his haste, and slammed it shut behind him. As soon as that was done, he aparated away.

He felt like he was going to puke.

Jaxon felt guilty immediately. The moment the harsh sharp words were out of his mouth; the guilt was filling up his chest cavity--growing, spreading, it's dark tendrils tightening around the werewolf's soft, warm heart. The walls he built up to protect those he might care for from what he was made the man very lonely. While he kept his bed full, his heart grew more empty with each passing year. That was hard for a man who had a lot of love to give. He had never kept anyone at arms length before he was bitten. He loved fearlessly then--and deeply. Never once did the chance of getting his heart broken keep him from wearing it on his sleeve. Now, he just could not be like that... It wasn't for his sake only, but primarily for theirs. He would never want to endanger someone with Ministry backlash for association with someone who was unregistered.

Oriel finally left. The final few shorts moments they had shared in Jax's cabin had been miserable--painful--suffocating. The air had been sucked right out of the space by the flare of anger that Jaxon had allowed to show. But it was for the best. That line of thinking soothed him; he had done right by Oriel, even if it did not seem that he had. Jaxon had been acting to preserve the other man's safety...and the photographer had left just in time. The light of the day was fading--and the moon would soon change man to wolf.

Not thirty seconds after Oriel had disappeared from the cabin, a knock came at the door. Two young people were on his porch. Larissa had sent them. The hollowness of their eyes struck to the heart of the seeker. The hunger and shallowness of their faces made him wonder how many nights they went without food or shelter. It broke his heart truly. There was little time for talking though...and even less that either of his 'guests' seemed interested in saying. He explained the property and the space they had... They were still new to the changes--barely eighteen months of time since they were first afflicted. So, he provided wolfsbane to them both.

Then, it was time. The moon had come for them. The trio left their clothes behind on his porch and walked out into the woods. The transformation was still painful. That never changed, but he had learned to let his body relax in the moments leading up to it. Meditation helped--and not fighting the change seemed to, as well. Still, their screams carried over the wilderness, betraying the suffering they endured, until the human sounds shifted into wild howls. Both the girl and the boy that Larissa sent seemed to accept him as their leader for this little excursion. They would not be fighting amongst themselves. They would be hunting. It was the best way he knew to keep the wolf within from becoming unmanageable. Finding prey was not hard in the land surrounding his cabin.

A elk was the first to fall to them--but that was to appease the hunger in his companions...that wasn't hunting for sport, which came later. Mountain cats always put up such a fight. But Merlin, did he love it! The hunter in him had always delighted in tracking his prey, but as a human, he was limited by his senses. During the full moon, though, his sense of smell became that of a canine...and he made use of that blessed talent. The three of them ran for miles and miles--tearing through the woods wholly free. It was beautiful.

---

End of Thread