Alphas

A/N; you're in for a major surprise. i can guarantee that this is a new way of going about things, but i hope you enjoy.

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Dudley and his gang came stumbling out of the Wolf’s Lair with Harry on tow behind them. Harry had spent most of his time talking to his Godfather, who happened to be able to sneak out of the wards at G.P.12 while the others were busy comforting Ginny. It may be the order headquarters, but it was his house. Merlin he wanted to chck them out. Naturally this was not something he had told Harry outright, but the teen caught the signs.

Dudley was as promised still ‘relatively’ sober, and his black haired cousin had a few drink as well, but not enough to even make him tipsy. The hot drinks lay in the pit of his stomach radiating a comforting heat, which Harry knew would soon develop into a new, but familiar kind of heat. He really needed to see Snape about this frequently reappearing ‘problem’ when he went back to Hogwarts. The rest of the gang however, was as smashed as dead flies, and they were ‘still’ talking about Harry’s challenge.

“I can’t fucking believe that ‘you’, the kid we used to mob, grew up to kick the national boxing champions arse.” Polkis shouted out loud.

“Yeah. Thought my eyes would pop out when you met him fist to fist after he kicked you in the guts. I thought you’d die when they declared to rules after the 13th round.” Piers said.

“Shut it.” Dudley snapped.

“We all know our Harry could have killed him within a second of entering the ring, he was just playing with him, but you just don’t smash another dude’s balls man. You just don’t.” Piers blabbled. The Boxing Champion had in a fit of temper kicked Harry in the balls after all his blows were blocked.

Dudley and Harry shook their heads. How did fifteen rounds become thirty-five? And Harry was ‘quite’ sure that his jewels were not even brushed by the bulky boxer. He would have noticed that, but he did have a rather nasty bruise on his lower stomach.

They headed down a narrow alley that the drunken gang swore was a short cut. Suddenly Harry stopped. He could feel himself being watched, and the air was thick with magic. A different kind of magic, old magic, but new as well in a way. He frowned, but not for long. A muscular body came leaping through the air and was heading towards the skinny figure of Piers. Harry reacted on instinct and smashed the other man hard into the cold and damp brick wall.

‘Werewolf’ his senses told him immediately. How could he do that he asked himself. He struggled to hold the man pinned to the wall.

“Go!” he snapped at the gang and they did not hesitate to comply. While he was pleased that they were following orders, it still annoyed him that they were such a bunch of cowards. A deep angry growl escaped his throat and the werewolf ceased to struggle and after a few seconds of intense meeting of chocolate brown and emerald green he also bared his neck.

Harry’s nose filled with the most wonderful scent, and he felt the need return stronger than he had ever felt it. For a moment he allowed himself to observe the stranger. He had a deep tan and dark hair. His features were chiselled and elegant, much like Harry’s own. His body was strong and almost feline, which was very odd for a werewolf. Despite his almost delicate and feminine outlook, there was something distinctly ‘male’ about him. In his private mind, Harry preferred men to women, but in the end it was down to the individual, not the gender that cut the deal, which was also why he had not told his ‘friend’ anything.

Harry found himself leaning in and nipped the side of his throat. He licked the soft skin at the base and bit deeply into his neck. Stepping closer he used his body to hold him. Blood flooded his mouth and he lapped it up happily. He had never felt desire like this. This was something else. Something about the beauty he had trapped between himself and the wall tugged at his heart as well as his loins.

The werewolf gasped and arched into the lager man pinning him to the wall. He felt a smirk forming the lips working on his neck. The scent coming from him was making his head swim. He moaned at the pleasure of the friction that came when his own hardness met the hard steel thigh of his captor.

When Harry felt the others erection rubbing against him he knew. He didn’t know how, but he knew that this man, this wolf was his, and his alone. He released the mans strong, but delicate wrists and was immediately pulled into a rough passionate kiss. Harry’s finger ghosted along his ribs underneath his shirt. He growled again, causing he smaller man to shiver in delight, the shirt had to go. The buttons went flying as Harry ripped it open, tore it off and tossed it to the ground.

The werewolf’s nails dug into the soft leather of Harry’s jacket while his body as manipulated to reach new heights of pleasure. Normally he’d be that man, the Dom, but normally it would also just be a casual fuck. This, he felt meant something more. He felt like he belonged right there; trapped between a cold stonewall and the warm muscular frame of a stranger.

Harry tugged the wolf’s tight and worn jeans off before he stood back up and draped one of his legs around his waist. He lifted him further up so that one leg was around his waist, and the other was resting on his shoulder. Merlin he was light.

He lubricated his fingers and carefully slipped them one at the time into the warm heat. A cleaning spell shot out from Harry’s fingertips and he heard a slight giggle by his ear. He smiled, that ‘did’ feel good. The muscles around his fingers relaxed so he worked the digits deeper, and was met by a barrier. Harry’s head snapped up and studied the flushed face before him.

His cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red and white teeth bit his full lips. Eventually he dropped his head and let the silky strands if his long hair block Harry’s view. Rejection was what he expected. What humans called purity, werewolves called shame. Virginity was a weakness, not an asset.

Remus had told Harry about this aspect of werewolf society, but Harry could not help but differ. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked. He received a nod in return. “You know it will hurt?” another nod.

“Thank you…for your gift.” The wolf lifted his head in confusion and before he knew it his lips were caught in a tender kiss. Harry was filled with pride. It truly was a gift to be someone’s first. He whispered a lubrication spell for the werewolf and retracted his fingers from his hungry warmth. He held him up with the pressure of his body while he undid the button on his jeans. Finally the cold air hit his pulsing organ. It had been down right painful to keep it trapped for so long.

He mumbled another lubrication spell and lowered his partner just enough for them to come in contact.

“You ready?”

“Yeah.” Came the breathy answer.

With that Harry carefully breached the tight ring of muscles. He felt him tightening and relaxing around him. A little further in, yes, there it was, the barrier. With a jock of his hips he tore the delicate hymn of the beautiful creature he was within. A small whimper came from him, and Harry stilled to let the pain fade.

A few minutes of gentle caresses had passed by when Harry felt his beauty, as he had started to call him in his mind, push back. Gently he began to rock back and forth. Each one embedded him a little deeper in the silky heat, until he was fully in.

It felt like he had been impaled on a thick steel pipe. It stretched his insides to a point of pain, but a good pain. When he pulled out so that only the head remained inside him, he felt empty and let out a disappointed moan. Less than a second later he was full again. The next thrust hit something inside him that made his sight have black spots dancing in front of it. He gasped and clung to the strong frame holding him.

Harry felt a new wave of pride wash over him and concentrated on hitting that spot every time. Soon his not-so-heavy burden was digging his nails into Harry’s shoulders beneath his shirt and leather jacket. His beauty was a boneless quivering mass of pure pleasure, but Harry was still going strong.

His skin would burn where his captor touched him. His teeth would nip his collarbone and leave it red and sore. Tears were rolling down his cheeks in pure desperation to either escape or drown in the intense fire that was raging through him. He met every thrust just as hard as they came. A tight knot was forming just below his navel. It was not like anything he had ever felt before. A woman could never make him feel like this. He arched his back again, thrust harder and got harder in return.

Just as he felt his beauty was about to come Harry stopped and pulled out to his head. He felt the frantic and tight hold around his sensitive tip. This was it. He took a hold in the cracks in the wall and was met halfway in a soft, but bone crushingly intense and passionate kiss.


Dudley had become a little bit worried when Harry didn’t come after them after a good fifteen minutes. He had just fought a rather hefty boxing match, and mix that with a few drinks…

He turned the corner and froze at the sight that met him; Harry was still holding their attacker up against the wall, only that he had one leg around Harry’s waist, the other was on his shoulder, he was naked, and instead of getting a thorough beating, he was getting thoroughly fucked. He saw when the smaller man began to quake and knew that he was about to come. Harry pulled out of him just before he did and they met in a soft kiss. Dudley was taken aback at the intensity of it. Even tough it was just a soft, small kiss, it held so many things that were still unsaid, and still unknown to the both of them that it made his chest tighten and his throat constrict.

Harry snapped his hips so fast Dudley was not sure he saw the actual movement, but it was such a hard move.

‘That must have hurt’ he thought.

The other man tore his lips from Harry’s a let out a low whimper as he pushed back and came hard over his naked chest, and Harry’s clothed one.

‘Apparently not.’ He gulped. Dudley still couldn’t move. Even as Harry came deep inside of the dark haired man, he could not move.


Right at this moment it was only Harry’s vice like grip on the cracks in the stonewall that kept them from falling.

‘I’ve got to sit down before I fall’ he thought. He lowered the leg on his shoulder down to rest on his hip. He circled his beauty’s waist with the last of his strength and pushed them off the wall. He turned around and slid down with his back to the wall and an exhausted werewolf lying on his chest with his head on his shoulder. He traced his fingers along the back of his beauty’s shoulder, letting his fingertips follow the labyrinth of scars. He hadn’t been able to hold back, so now, thousands of millions of him were eagerly swimming inside his beauty, searching for something to attach to.


They were still suffering the after effects of their encounter. He could feel the half hard flesh deep within him, along with the warmth of his seed comforting him from the inside. His muscles were so sore, but it was worth it. His eyes grew heavy and he breathed out a content sigh as he nuzzled into the warm chest currently serving as a pillow.

Harry could not help but smile. His new job as a pillow was actually very satisfying. This- intimacy was very satisfying. He let his eyes wander down the body lying on top of his.

‘No tanning lines’ he observed. ‘That’s interesting.’ His legs were strong and toned, just perfect. His previously scarred, but still whole back was scattered with bloodied scrapes and small cuts from being taken against the stonewall. He stroked his fingers across the open wounds and watched them as they healed.

The constant pulsing of the silken walls still surrounding him was the only thing keeping him awake. Gently he nudged the other man out of his nap and kissed him.

“I’ve got to go love.” He whispered with regret. “The gang is waiting for me…” he heard a soft snort coming from his neck. His warm breath against his skin had Harry’s hair standing on edge.

“I can tell.” He said and gave a weak nod towards Dudley. Harry narrowed his eyes and gave a deep growl and surprisingly enough; Dudley took off like a lightning.

“Don’t do that.” The werewolf snapped, but there was no push in it.

“Do what?” Harry asked in confusion.

“You growl. Stop it.”

“…?...”

“If you’re up for another round, please go ahead, but if not, stop it. It’s turning me on.”

“Oh.” Was all Harry could say.

“Are you serious?” he asked in disbelief when he felt the flesh inside him harden once again to the point of feeling like a solid piece of metal.

“I can’t really help it. You’re quite arousing.” Harry chuckled and wiggled his hips.

“So I’ve heard, but….Ah! Oh Merlin!” He arched his back and buried his face in Harry’s neck. Harry took a sharp inward breath when sharp nails dug into the skin on his chest under his shirt leaving behind five thin lines with small drop of blood rolling down his already sweat soaked skin.

Still out of breath they leaned their foreheads leaned against each other, breathing in deep lungfuls of air. He sat his knees down on the hard cold ground and began to move above the man inside him. He let out a shuddering breath as his spot was gently stroked. Strong hands took a hold of his hips and moved with him. Harry’s hair had fallen out of its ponytail and was obscuring his view of his face. He caught a damp lock of dark hair and ran his fingers along the side of his head, brushing away the soft strands. Brilliant glassy green eyes stared intensely at back at him, and a faded pink scar shaped as a lightning bolt above his right brow stood out in the pale moonlight. His shock was hidden well by the waves of pleasure crashing down at him right at that second. For the second time he felt the heat of Harry Potter radiating within him, reminding him, that he just got ravished by his pack brother’s cub, twice.

Boneless he collapsed on top of the ‘boy’ that was supposed to be his enemy. He didn’t look anything like that scared little child the Dark Lord made him out to be. He was a man in his own right, and now he knew that in the most intimate of ways.

“I…I’ve got to go. My pack…I…” He was completely out of breath.

“I know…my cousin…They’re waiting…and the bus…”

“Yeah.” He was still lying against his chest with his arms around him. Eventually he pulled away and stood up slowly. The now soft flesh slid out of him, he was sore, and that was for sure. For once he was thankful for being able to apparate and not having to walk all the way back to the camp. He snatched his jeans, dried then with a snap of his fingers and pulled them on. His shirt was in pieces so he didn’t bother to pick it up and starts to take off.

“Wait!” Harry shouted. He stopped and turned around. Harry was standing with his shirt in his hand. He threw it to him and he caught it out of reflex.

“It gets cold at night. You shouldn’t…” he waved a hand at him, gesturing to the bare flesh of his upper body.

“Thank you.” He said and put on the cream coloured linen shirt and turned to go again.

“Just…” he stopped and turned once more. If he had to stand there one more minute, he did not know what he would do. He didn’t know why this was so hard; walking away from him. He had never felt so intimate with anyone. Never had he felt anyone inside him. Never had he expected to ever feel that feeling, that sense of belonging or that emotion; vulnerability. He was a dark creature; a killer and he had given himself to the saviour, the very essence of everything that was meant to be good. Was he really the poster boy everyone thought him to be?

“What is your name?” he cocked a brow. That was not what he was expecting to hear, then again…

“Fenrir. It’s Fenrir.” He answered back.

“Thank you, Fenrir.” Fenrir walked back to Harry and placed a soft kiss upon his lips.

“Thank you…Harry.” He whispered before he vanished in the shadows

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A/N: so what do you think? i really really really need to know... if you're good reviewers the next chapter will be up on friday.....another reason to look forward to the weekend i hope