The Stranger

3010 Words
There were many things in the city that the countryside didn’t have much of. To name a few: skyscrapers, tacky clubs, muggers and swindlers. When Louie Farrik left his hometown a month ago to make it in the city at the age of 27, he was brimming with hope and excitement. After all, the small town he was from had a population of 98% humans, while the cities were well-known to house diverse creatures such as angels, goblins, werewolves, vampires and the like. But it took innocent Louie only two days to learn how cruel the city and its people can be—especially for a mere human like him. In a span of a month, Louie had been pickpocketed by teenage werewolves which cost him his keys and quite a lot of money; scammed by a vampire landlord, which sucked in half of his savings and had him look for a way cheaper apartment; and to top it all, bullied by a bunch of goblins that got him fired from a job at the warehouse—the only one that would hire a human. So, there Louie was, walking back to his crappy apartment in the roughest neighborhood in the city, after failing an interview for a janitorial at a hospital. “Humans are too weak, they get sick quickly. No offense,” the angel that held the interview had told him. “No offense,” he said. Well, offense was very much taken. It was past 10 in the evening when Louie rounded the corner that led to his street. It was dark and the uneven road was empty, but he knew better and kept his bag in front of him, even if it creased the shabby suit and tie he was wearing. He would have to straighten them out again for another interview tomorrow. He had just passed the small drugstore a few buildings away from his apartment when he heard a rustling. The hairs on the back of Louie’s neck stood as he stopped and warily looked around. There was not a person in sight. There were no strong winds either. He was about to take a step forward when he heard something again—the sound of metal clanging—only this time, it was accompanied by a weak groan. Louie looked to his right, where a small and dark alleyway was beside the closed drugstore. He wanted to just keep walking, go back to his place for a bath and get a good rest, but for some reason, his feet wouldn’t move and he couldn’t keep his eyes away from the dark. What if it was an injured animal? He thought. His conscience wouldn’t let him sleep, knowing that he had come across something that needed help and he let it be. He wasn’t raised to be so callous. There weren’t any lampposts in that area, so Louie took out his phone and turned up the screen’s brightness. He took out a pencil—the only sharp object in his bag that could be used to defend himself—and cautiously walked towards the alley. There was a shuffling sound, followed by something heavy falling on the ground. “H-hello?” his voice quivered and his grip on the pencil tightened. There was nothing but small puddles of water and a large dumpster surrounded by trash and bins. The countryside where Louie came from might not have efficient trains and skyscrapers, but it also didn’t have this much filth. There was another movement and a rotten half-eaten apple rolled towards Louie’s feet, almost making him jump. With his soul almost out of his body, he mustered all the courage he had and made his way to where the trash came from. He flashed his light beside the dumpster, and there he saw it. At first glance in the dark, it looked like it was just a heap of cloth. But Louie realized that that cloth led to a hand. When he put the light closer, he could finally make out that it was a person—a man—lying face down on the bags of trash. “Is he dead?” was the first thought that came to mind as he squatted next to the body. It was quickly answered when Louie noticed that the man was heavily breathing. He quickly turned the person over and shook his shoulders. “Sir?” Louie called out. “Sir, are you okay?” but the man only responded with another groan. Louie started tapping on his cheek. “Sir, where do you live? I can call you a cab—" he stopped and frowned, then placed the back of his hand on the man's forehead. It was warm—unusually so. Was he running a high fever? Louie leaned closer and opened one of the man's eyes. With their faces in close proximity, he could smell the alcohol on the man's breath. Drunk, Louie concluded. But that still didn’t explain why his skin was hot. Louie looked around. It was the middle of the night, and there was a sick, unconscious man in an alley of a rough neighborhood. There was only one thing to do for now. Without hesitation, he grabbed the man's arms, turned his back on him, and placed them above his shoulders. He placed his phone and pencil back into his bag, and with a count of three, he stood up with the man on his back.   ***   By the time they reached the apartment, Louie was drenched in sweat and smelled like the stench permeating from the other man's clothes. Seeing how tall he was, laid on the floor of the bedroom, Louie finally realized why he was so heavy. He tried shaking him awake again, but he only groaned and frowned, then scratched at his dirty face. With a sigh, Louie got up and returned to the room with a basin of water and soap, towels, and a change of clothes. “I'm going to clean you up, okay?” Louie said, even though he knew he wouldn't be heard. He wiped the dirt off the man's face, whose expression lightened up as the cold towel touched his skin. “What a kind face,” Louie murmured, wondering if he was around the same age as him. He moved on to the thick and messy brown hair, then his neck and hands. He stopped just as he was about to take off the stranger’s shirt. “Sir,” he said again, “I’m going to have to take your clothes off, okay? I promise I’m not a p*****t. I won’t touch you anywhere inappropriate,” he promised, then proceeded to carefully unbutton his shirt and managed to pull it off from him. “Must be an athlete,” he muttered, as he began wiping at the dirt on his chest. Then he took off his pants—trying not to look or touch as much as possible, to preserve the man’s dignity—then dressed him up in the largest t-shirt and pajama bottoms he owned. When the grueling task was over, he lifted the man again with much difficulty, and laid him on his bed and placed a damp towel on his forehead. Louie looked at him for a second, all tucked-in and clean. He looked quite like a decent person when he’s not facedown in the dirt. With the man dead-asleep, Louie went to the bathroom and took his suit and tie off to inspect the damage. It was too dirty now, so he quickly threw it in the wash, including the stranger’s clothes. But just as he was about to do so, he felt something in the pockets. Keys and a wallet. He wiped them off and placed them on the side. He took a bath to get the garbage smell off him then dressed in pajamas. He figured he should put a glass of water and the man’s belongings on the bedside table, just in case he wakes up in the middle of the night. But when Louie entered the room, he found the man sitting on the bed with his shoulders slouched and his head hanging down. “Sir?” Louie hesitantly spoke, taking a cautious step towards him. The man’s shoulders moved up and down as he heavily breathed. “W-would you like some water?” Louie asked, feeling a hint of panic now. He should’ve thought twice about bringing a stranger to his home—especially one from this city. Nevertheless, he sat on the bed beside the man and placed a hand on his shoulder. He felt hot—way more than before. That was probably why he was panting, Louie thought. He had to get his temperature down. “Sir, you’re sick,” Louie said, “please drink some water and lie down.” He placed the glass in the man’s hand, who drank it without question with his eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed. He looked uncomfortable, like he was in pain. When he finished the drink, Louie placed the glass on the bedside table with the wallet and keys, then gently pushed the man to lie back down. “Wait here a second,” he said, then went to the kitchen to dampen another towel. He went back to the room and found the man lying still with his eyebrows still in a frown. Louie sat beside him again and gently placed the towel on his forehead. He noticed that his head wasn’t on the pillow, so he placed his right arm under the man's head to lift it up, while pulling the pillow down with his left hand. He had just slipped his hand from under his head and was about to pull away when the man suddenly held onto it. “Uh, sir?” Louie asked, his face above the other man's by just a few inches. The stranger’s eyelids opened, revealing a set of glowing amber-colored eyes. He had initially thought that the person was human, but it seemed that he was wrong. He didn’t look annoyed or angry, but there was something in the way his eyes bored into Louie's that made him seem…hungry. And suddenly, his face didn’t look so kind anymore. Louie could feel the panic arise within him again. “Sir, are you—” but he couldn’t finish, as a hand was placed on the back of his neck and his head was pulled down. Louie had expected that he would be bitten, so he prepared to feel his skin pierced as he tightly closed his eyes and braced for it. What he didn’t expect, however, was that instead of fangs, he would feel a pair of soft warm lips on his. It took him a second to realize he was being kissed, until a hot tongue slid into his mouth. In a regular case, Louie would’ve pulled away and punched any other person trying to take advantage of him. Only this time, his reason seemed to be melting away and he found himself kissing the stranger back. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but something was drawing him in—making him unable to stop, as if the lust the man had was infectious. He felt a warm hand slide under his shirt and grip at his side so tightly that it was sure to leave a mark. Louie found his body moving on its own as he found himself climbing on top without breaking the kiss. The man bit at his lip, and with one swift motion, rolled them around so Louie would be underneath him. The suddenness of it was what broke Louie out of the trance. With wide eyes, he finally understood what was happening. The man with lust-filled glowing eyes, the hotness of his skin, his ragged breathing, how Louie was being attracted like a bee to honey—the man was a werewolf in heat. Before he was pulled in any further, Louie reached for the medicine drawer beside his bed just as the man was taking off his own shirt. He quickly grabbed the inhibitor and without warning, stuck the needle into the man's thigh. The stranger stopped midway of removing his shirt and looked down at the needle sticking to him. Louie could see the exact moment his amber eyes stopped glowing and tamed into a golden brown, before he slowly swayed and drowsily fell. Louie breathed heavily, his heart going a hundred miles per minute as the man laid on top of him finally started snoring. With great effort, he pushed him aside and stood up. Once he had tucked him in again, he checked the man's wallet for an ID. Dane Bennett, it said his name was. 26 years old—a year younger than Louie. An alpha werewolf. *** Louie’s alarm woke him up at 7 the next morning. He had gone to sleep on the old couch after last night's debacle, and he felt his shoulders stiffen because of it. He blindly turned off his alarm and stretched. When he opened his eyes, he found someone standing by the foot of the couch, staring at him with a confused look on his face. Louie jumped up and grabbed a pillow—the nearest weapon available to him—and held it at an arm's length to protect himself. “Don’t—don’t even think about it!” he unconvincingly threatened the stranger named Dane, who was scratching the back of his head in confusion. The same man he helped and tried to attack him last night. “I was wondering when you’d wake up,” he said, smiling awkwardly. He pointed at the clothes he was wearing—a shirt and pajama pants a size too small for him. “I’m guessing these are yours?” he asked. Louie narrowed his eyes and slightly moved his face forward to get a better look at the man’s eyes. They were not glowing anymore. Fully awake with his sanity intact in the daylight, he actually did look like a decent person. His large golden brown eyes and hair to match made him look like a puppy—if a puppy were ever that tall and muscular. “Y-yes, that’s mine,” he replied, lowering the pillow. “Sorry, but,” Dane looked around the apartment. “Where am I and who are you?” “Louie,” he answered, still regarding the man with caution. “Louie Farrik, and you’re in my apartment. I found you by the—by the alleyway beside the drugstore.” Dane raised his eyebrows and blinked at him. “And you just helped me out?” he asked in awe. Louie nodded. “And you changed my clothes and cleaned me up?” He nodded again, then in a panic, said, “But I didn’t do anything inappropriate! I swear! Your name is Dane, right? I checked your ID last night.” Dane frowned, as if trying to remember something. “Hold on a second,” he said, “I remember going to the drugstore to buy a—” his eyes widened as he took one big step towards Louie and held him by the shoulders, inspecting his face and his body. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you last night?” Louie gasped and took a step back in surprise. The stranger, seeing his reaction, also took a step back and raised his hands. “I-I’m alright. I gave you a shot of suppressants last night,” Louie said, his face heating up. “You’re a werewolf, right?” The man nodded and sighed in relief. “Thank goodness,” he said, “I’m sorry for the trouble I caused you. I usually have suppressants in my car but I forgot I lent them and when my heat came, I was drunk and tried to buy from the drugstore just—" Louie, hearing his second alarm go off, suddenly remembered that he had somewhere to be. “Ah, it's fine, I‐I have to go, but your clothes!” he panicked, grabbing his phone and rushing to the dryer. The man followed him, keeping a safe distance as he watched Louie fumble in a hurry. Louie tossed him his clothes and said, “Here. I, uh, need to be somewhere so I have to go change. I have an interview and I can’t be late. Don’t-don’t touch my stuff, please,” then pushed the man out and closed the door. When he reemerged with a creased suit and tie, he found the stranger dressed in his own clothes as well. “Where are you headed? My car's parked just beside the drugstore,” he said. “I can give you a ride since I need to go to work anyway.” “It's alright,” Louie answered, trying to fix his unruly bedhead. “I-I don’t want to bother you or—” “No, please. It’s the least I could do!” the man urged with a smile. “Where are you headed?” Louie gave up on his hair and collected his envelope and bag. “6th street, uptown,” he reluctantly said. “Are you sure?” Dane's face lit up. “What a coincidence! That’s where I’m going as well!” 
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