It was supposed to be an easy confrontation. Jongin had been told, by Junmyeon, that they were aiming to keep their territory. “We don’t share,” Junmyeon reminded them, “And if this new pack of wolves think that they can take over our turf, they’re wrong.”
They had made the necessary research, having found pictures of the members of the pack they were going to meet. “Kris,” Chanyeol picked up a photo and Jongin scoffed when he saw well-sculptured features that looked like they belonged on a prince, not a creature of the night. “He’s the leader, but he isn’t the oldest. His power is flight, from what I’ve found out from Luna.”
Junmyeon looked up at that. A wolf doesn’t have to be the oldest out of the pack to be the leader, but it was rare for them to come across exceptions. “I’ll take him on,” Junmyeon declared, and the rest nodded. “This is Minseok,” Chanyeol continued, “He is the oldest. If I’m not wrong, his element is ice.” Baekhyun made a sound of disapproval and stepped forward, volunteering, and Junmyeon nodded. Jongin took a look at the face of a child, coupled with orange hair, and immediately lost interest again.
“Lu Han,” Chanyeol picked up the third photograph, and Jongin noticed how Sehun’s head had snapped up in recognition. His eyes narrowed into slits when he realized he was the only one who had noticed. You and I need to have a talk after this, Sehun, he thought. He wondered why Sehun was so gripped by the photo Chanyeol had passed to him. “Be careful, Sehun,” Chanyeol added, “Telepathy is not an ability to mess with.”
Knowing Chanyeol, Jongin knew that he would probably be distracted in his fight against the wolf named Yixing, instead looking out for Sehun’s safety against the telepath. Idiot, Jongin made a note to look out for the both of them.
“I’ll take Jongdae,” Kyungsoo spoke softly, picking up the fifth photo from the table, staring intently at the word scrawled across: lightning.
That left Jongin with the last member. “The youngest,” Chanyeol supplied, and Jongin was looking at the words ‘Time Control’.
“Cool,” he deadpanned, a smile catching his lips as he associated his power with the other’s. They made an interesting combination.
Time and space.
Before Zitao could summon his power, Jongin had disappeared in a burst of black fume, then appeared, standing right in front of him. Zitao let out a hiss of pain when claws sinked into the back of his neck (it was his weakest spot) and it was then that days’ worth of nausea and discomfort caught up with his body. The other wolf seemed deliberated, seeing that Zitao was transforming back into his human form, and the grip around Zitao neck relaxed.
Upon transformation, Jongin found himself staring at the boy in his grasp. With wine red hair, eyes that refused to surrender, and luscious lips, he looked ravishing. The welts of red across his right temple reminded Jongin of their callous brawl just a while ago, and he grinned when he realized that he had won.
His own transformation was quick, and he was irked to feel the stinging pain of the scratches along his left shoulder. The kitten’s got some claws, he mused. “Looks like someone’s unhappy that they’ve lost,” he whispers, asserting some strength and watching as Zitao’s expression twisted in pain.
“I haven’t lost,” Zitao snapped, knowing that if he had been in a better condition, their roles would be reversed.
Smirking, Jongin let himself lean forward, bending down slightly to press his lips against Zitao’s neck. His smile widened when he felt the other boy tensing.
“What are you doing?” Zitao hissed, struggles renewing when he was answered by a tongue licking the wound a little to the right of his adam’s apple.
“Cleaning your wound,” Jongin mutters, still smiling as he left the wound, trailed his way up to Zitao’s jaw, and settling down just below those tempting lips.
Zitao cursed when his knees almost gave way to the warmth of Jongin’s lips against his skin. “Let me go, asshole, we’ll fight again.”
“No,” Jongin replied, “I’ve won this round, I deserve a reward.”