[ And once Bren was attended to, brushed and pampered, Essek then would read to his lover one of the many novels that they had shared together back during Bren's first go around. A book balanced against his knee, with Bren's head against his other leg, his fingers stroking against the soft ginger hair that fell now in waves that caught the firelight beautifully.
It was such an idyllic evening that was spent; the sort of evening that had Essek understanding that this was the norm. He would remind Bren of this, remind him of it that he did not need to fear the transformation, that he was a better person and a better werewolf than anyone else. He'd read for hours if it was required, just lulling the other man into a blissed out state.
And slowly, the night would pass far quickly than perhaps Bren was used to. The slow trickle of honey companionship betwixt them, the feel of his fingers stroking would lure the wolf into a relaxed state, certainly enough so that when Bren finally changed back, it would not be so bad. Because the time as a werewolf had not been a nightmare. ]
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It was such an idyllic evening that was spent; the sort of evening that had Essek understanding that this was the norm. He would remind Bren of this, remind him of it that he did not need to fear the transformation, that he was a better person and a better werewolf than anyone else. He'd read for hours if it was required, just lulling the other man into a blissed out state.
And slowly, the night would pass far quickly than perhaps Bren was used to. The slow trickle of honey companionship betwixt them, the feel of his fingers stroking would lure the wolf into a relaxed state, certainly enough so that when Bren finally changed back, it would not be so bad. Because the time as a werewolf had not been a nightmare. ]