12. Sense

(Galapagos tortoise, Winston, 83yrs old and 500+ pounds.)

After finishing cleaning his beautifully groomed fur, Drake shifted into his human form and languidly climbed out of the bed. Well, it was Warden's, technically, but he didn't care.

The guy has less friends over than I have orgasms in a week, and I doubt that he's going to be using this bed for anything but sleeping with his pet vampire here. He thought as he sauntered into the bathroom and stepped into the shower.

His sensitive hearing easily caught when Warden returned home. The lighter sounding footsteps that followed his before the door shut could only be Cerat's. Mm, my little carrot.

Remembering what Warden had told him earlier in the day, he eagerly finished washing up, dried off, and tugged on a pair of silver shorts. Moments later he was heading for the living room, lips stretching into a grin as Warden came into view. From the look on his face and slouching posture, the day had been quite interesting.

"Hey Tweety. You look like you had a blast with my carrot. Should I be jealous?" Drake asked as he followed Warden into the kitchen, intent on stealing whatever he planned to cook after noting Cerat getting comfortable in his now-trademark blanket in the corner.

When Warden just pulled out a container of orange juice and began sipping at it, straight from the carton, Drake frowned. He didn't like being ignored, but Warden didn't normally do it unless he was exhausted or overly-stressed.

"What happened? You said he seemed to be acting weird in the email you sent me." Drake said as he hopped up on the counter, letting his legs hang over the edge as he stared down at Warden.

It wasn't until Warden took several more sips from the juice carton that he straightened and leaned his back against the counter, then turned his head to meet Drake's eyes. "It's almost like he's decided to change who he is now. The Cerat we've had wasn't the one I saw for a few minutes at the pet shop today. He was... different. Not a different person or a split personality, but he seemed so much stronger than the Cerat we know"

Drake nodded silently, his eyes staring past Warden as he thought about his words. It wasn't too surprising to him, mainly because werewolves could technically change similarly if there's an upheaval in the pecking order. The temperament could change depending on the situation and, in Cerat's case, he finally seemed to be growing a backbone.

"I think it's actually something normal. To a point." He said as he refocused his attention on Warden.

The angel raised a brow, his expression changing to one of confusion. Knowing that he'd likely just stare for awhile, as Warden wasn't the best with words when he was stressed, Drake just continued on.

"Werewolves that have to deal with sudden changes in their pack tend to evolve their personalities depending on what is best for them. Cerat's vampire, after being suppressed for so long by him refusing to drink blood, is likely just beginning to learn that it is actually allowed to exist and can have a say in what Cerat does, as long as he's willing to agree with it."

When Warden still didn't respond, just lowered his eyes, Drake rolled his own and leaned forward. Bumping the other man's forehead with his own, Drake gave out a quiet growl and chuckled, the mixture of sounds making his voice deep and rough when he spoke. "Cheer up, War. He's still Cerat. In fact, seeing the evolution of his personality tells us that the vampire part of him is still there and that we aren't just trying to help half of him. We need to support him as a whole. When the vampire is comfortable with who Cerat is, and Cerat is comfortable being a vampire, his personality will likely even out. So, if he's just being a bit more a brat right now, I think we should welcome it. He's still our carrot."

He knew it sounded crazy, but after seeing so many young werewolves, most of them strays, with rapidly changing personalities, he was pretty sure that his hunch was correct.

Putting on a rare honest smile, Drake moved to the fridge and removed a package of hamburger. Setting it on the counter, he got down a box of pasta and winked as Warden looked up. "I've got dinner. You look exhausted, why don't you go take a bath and relax for a bit?"

The stunned look on Warden's face made Drake scowl. He wasn't an ass all the time! Just most of it... Okay. All of it. He thought as he grabbed Warden's arm and tossed him out of the kitchen.

"I already cleaned up a bit earlier cause I got bored, so go take a bath. You smell like chicken from one of those shitty Chinese places." He growled at the man's back before returning to what he had been doing.

He wasn't exactly a chef... or even someone who could follow directions, but he could unwrap beef and put it in a pan. He could also manage basic pasta. Nothing was going to be seasoned, but considering that Warden was almost as bad as he was when it came to cooking, neither of them would give a damn.

He made sure that the meat wouldn't burn, paying extra attention to it and the pasta. As he worked, a thought kept trying to sneak into his mind. He didn't want to acknowledge it, but when it finally managed to slip through his defenses, he knew that he'd have to give it some serious thought.

I need to go with Cerat to the store sometimes. War needs to work in a quiet place more than I do. Hell, I rarely work, too.

Drake felt odd thinking about trying to help someone. He was never one to stick his neck out for anyone, not even War. It just wasn't his personality and his wolf's? Hell no. But War deserves a break. He's been going crazy with Cerat and I've just been sitting back enjoying the show.

Sighing, Drake shook his head and began plating up the food. He didn't bother mixing the meat in with the pasta and instead just dropped two spoonfuls on top of the noodles on each plate. After tossing the pot and pan he'd used in the sink, he added two forks to the plates and carried them into the bedroom.

He wasn't surprised to see Cerat cuddled up with Thumper in the corner with his blanket, as he thought he'd heard him moving while he was cooking. He also wasn't surprised to see that Warden still wasn't out of the bathroom. Drake walked over to the old nightstand and set the plates down, then turned and headed for the bathroom. He would have yelled through the door, but Cerat needed to rest since he was working again and dealing with his personality changes.

So, he quietly slipped inside of the steamy bathroom and slid the door shut before turning around and opening his mouth to tell Warden he needed to get his ass out of the tub before the food he worked hard to make got cold... but instead of words coming out of his mouth, he sighed out a silent breath as his lips closed together.

Warden was still in the bathtub, but Drake hadn't expected him to have his arms crossed over the outer corner, the side of his head resting on the crook of his left arm, eyes closed. His shoulders rose and fell in a slow rhythm as quiet breaths slipped from his parted lips.

"...Hey Drake?"

"Drake?"

Blinking, Drake swallowed and stepped back, looking down at Warden as he sat up in the tub and yawned.

when did he wake up? He thought as he took another awkward step back and reached up to rub at the back of his neck. "I made dinner. Get your ass out of the tub." He mumbled before turning and walking out, leaving the door wide open as he stalked toward his food.

By the time Warden was out of the bathroom Drake had disappeared, having needed to go for a walk for some reason. His food remained untouched on the nightstand he'd set it down on after entering the room. He was starving, but the idea of eating didn't sit well with his stomach at all. He had no idea what had happened to his mind when he was in the bathroom.

Sure, he knew his wolf had been part of his nervousness, but his wolf never had full control over him... so half of it had to be him. But why the fuck would I be nervous about being near Warden? We grew up together and I could take him easily in a fight.

Closing his eyes, Drake began running toward the forest as a frustrated growl left his lips.

You're just tired. Go to sleep when you get back, then eat whatever he has left in the fridge tomorrow. He told himself. After a moment of thought, he decided to do just that... of course, after he finished the meal he'd worked so hard to make, and so help War if it wasn't where he'd left it when he got back.