Free Story | FEAR OF KISSING



FEAR OF KISSING 

Word Count : 2,062

Pairing(s) : Cis M/Cis M

Rating : M (Mature, for non-explicit sex scenes, non-explicit violence, mild cursing etc.)

Main Tags : Fantasy, Paranormal, Romance, Angst

Where an incubus believes he will never find love, and a sex-worker werewolf proves him wrong.

Author's Note:

Hey, hey, hey, readers, writers, and everyone far and wide! I originally posed FEAR OF KISSING for Wattpad's Forbidden Love Anthology, and while it wasn't picked (for its mature content, I'm guessing), I loved writing it so much I've decided to share it here!
I hope you enjoy! 
Love, 
~Vee.
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CONTENT WARNINGS: So. Much. Angst. On screen minor-character death. Non-explicit sex scenes.

FEAR OF KISSING Copyright © 2019 Viano Oniomoh All rights reserved.  


Haru is afraid to let go.

        It’s safe. 

        Stop panicking. 

        It’s safe.

        His breaths are quick and sharp, his heartbeat rabbiting away underneath his ribcage. His nails dig into the werewolf’s hips as the other man sinks down, enveloping Haru in delicious heat.

        He moans despite himself, losing the tenuous grip he has on his restraint, life and vitality flooding desperately into his starved bloodstream. 

        Oh God, yes! Everything within him sings, the pleasure making him arch off the mattress, his hips snapping.

        He panics on the next breath, frantically pulling back the frayed edges of his aura, that terrified, relentless part of him screaming to stop, stop, you’ll hurt him, you’ll kill him

        “Hey,” the werewolf whispers, his voice sensual and calming. “Hey, stay with me.”

        Dark brown eyes lock with his. Those large, surprisingly soft hands cup his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks. He trembles at the tenderness.

        “That’s it,” the other man whispers throatily, grinding down hard. Haru whimpers, hips thrusting up on instinct. “That’s it, babe. I’ve got you. Let go.”

        The alpha tangles their fingers together, and Haru wants to cry at how good it feels. 

        “Do you trust me?”

        Haru sobs softly. “Yes.”

        He feels it when the werewolf is close, can almost taste his pleasure in the air, and knows his eyes are burning gold in response.

        “Yes,” the werewolf hisses, like seeing Haru lose control is everything he’s ever wanted. “Yes, come on, take it.” 

        The fear is still there, trying to choke him, but for one moment, Haru just wants. His clenches his eyes shut against the sudden sting behind them, braces his heels against the mattress, and just fucking lets go

       “Oh my G-God, oh my God–” the other man gasps, bracing their joined hands above Haru’s head, clinging on for dear life.

        Haru’s eyes snap open. The alpha’s eyes are half-lidded, glowing a dull red as he stares down at Haru like he’s the best thing to ever happen to the universe.

        His gaze drops to the man’s full lips, and the longing is so sharp it’s like a stab to the gut.

        The alpha makes the most beautiful desperate sound, leaning down to join their foreheads together. 

        “Do it. It’s okay. I promise. Kiss me, kiss me–”

        Haru makes a hurt noise. “I can’t,” he sobs, even as he wants so badly he aches. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t–” 

        “Please, please–” the alpha moans. “You won’t hurt me. I promise. You won’t.”

        Tears slide down Haru’s temples to soak into the silk pillows underneath his head. He tilts his face up helplessly, their noses bumping, lips barely an inch apart. All he has to do is breathe hotly against the alpha’s mouth, and the other man is crying out and coming apart on top of him.

        Haru soars right after him, spine nearly cracking with how hard he arches off the mattress, the world around him flaring bright gold.



Haru is afraid of kissing.

        He remembers being sixteen, dating Aphrodite for three months and all they’d wanted to do was hold hands. 

        He remembers how shy and cautious they'd been around each other, hopeless romantics waiting for the perfect time.

        He remembers the perfect time, being wobbly and giggly from the hot wine the server had snuck them during their date back at the restaurant. 

        He remembers how they’d walked all the way from the centre to one of the cosy, little parks in the residential area, falling onto one of the benches wrapped around each other.

        He remembers Aphrodite whispering, “So I … kinda, maybe, love you,” looking up at him from underneath her eyelashes, her medium brown skin glowing from the kiss of the moonlight, curly tendrils of black hair escaping from its up-do to curl against her cheeks.

        Haru still feels a punch to his gut when he remembers her in that moment; gorgeous, brave yet paradoxically shy, and completely in love with him.

        “Only kinda?” Haru had teased, making her laugh. He hadn’t been able to resist kissing the sound off her red lips. 

        He remembers feeling lightheaded at the touch, brimming with sudden energy, the blood in his veins turning molten. 

        He remembers her happiness mounting as they’d kissed, again, and again, and again –

        He remembers how she’d scrambled onto his lap, and began tearing at his clothes, biting at his mouth and palming him through his jeans. 

        He remembers being overwhelmed and desperate, helpless against the feedback loop of need and pleasure that had swirled and grew and bounced between them.

        He remembers the awful tang of wrongness that had clawed at the back of his throat when he’d called her name in-between kisses, asked her to slow down, and how she’d ignored him. 

        He remembers having the longest, most intense orgasm of his life, pleasure so acute it bordered on pain.

        He remembers coming back to earth feeling like his whole universe had tilted on his axis.

        He remembers Aphrodite, the love of his life, limp and lifeless in his arms, her face frozen in a horrible rictus of painful pleasure.



When he returns to the brothel, he’s burning with shame and longing. 

        He still finds it hard to believe that night was real. That the werewolf had thrived underneath his touch, had begged for more – fed his insatiable hunger until he’d been so full, his lips tingling from the phantom touch of a kiss he’d been too afraid to give.

        Nothing’s ever felt like that.

        And God, even if it isn’t real, he can’t help but want.

        The Madame tuts when she sees him, noting how pale his skin is and how fast he’s breathing, the way most of the escorts in the reception seem helplessly drawn to him, their eyes roving over his form hungrily.

        He hunches his shoulders, trying to appear smaller, pulling his aura even more tightly into his body, though he knows at this point it’s useless.

        “Same alpha?” the Madame asks in that strange accent, already heading for the landline sitting on the reception desk behind the counter.

        Haru’s heart skips at the mention of him, cheeks flushing as he nods.

        The Madame smirks like she knows, picking the phone up to dial.



“I knotted for you,” the alpha pants as he rocks on top of him. Haru’s heartbeat skips at the words, eyes widening and breath hitching. “Do you know what that means?”

        They’re in the same room as before, bodies slick with sweat underneath the silk sheets, the only source of light the moon peeking through the slits in the curtains. 

        It’s more intimate than the first time, their foreheads pressed together, the werewolf’s right hand clutching his long auburn hair in a tight fist as he rolls his hips in tight little circles, barely giving Haru a chance to breathe.

        “Do you know what that means?” the alpha repeats, voice hoarse, vulnerable. 

        Alpha werewolves only knot in the presence of their true mate. 

        But Haru knows what the alpha is feeling isn’t – can’t be genuine.

        “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

        “Don’t,” Haru begs, voice broken. It’s not real.

        “I want you,” he whispers, the words heavy, laced with meaning. “I want you–”

        Haru crushes their mouths together, nearly passing out when the werewolf comes, the man's energy rushing into Haru's body in a tidal wave of endorphins. His nails dig into the alpha’s back as he experiences his own orgasm, his entire world shaking to its core.



He can’t stop kissing him.

        He moulds their lips together over and over again like a man starved, only coming up for air when he can barely breathe. The werewolf doesn’t seem to mind, kissing him back just as hard.

        He’s shaking with terror, waiting for the werewolf’s body to slow down and become heavy, then eventually stop. With each kiss he grows increasingly desperate, a foreign emotion choking at his throat as he bites at the alpha’s lips – pulling, pulling, pulling at his energy until he’s so full he could burst.

        He rolls them over, bold enough to be on top this time, sliding back inside him with a desperate whine.

        “Eric,” the werewolf gasps. “My name is Eric.”

        Haru sobs the name against the other man's mouth when he comes.



Haru is afraid to fall in love.

        Everyone wants him. They can’t help it. People immediately rush to do his bidding like they’ve been hypnotised the second he breathes a word in their direction. Strangers are compelled to press ‘gifts’ into his hands when they see him on the streets, some confessing their love right then and there, others outright asking if there’s anything he wants, to just tell them, they’ll do it please.

        His very existence has him scraped raw and keeping to himself, because in a world where he’s seemingly wanted by all, he has, and can never be truly loved by one.



The Madame doesn’t smile the third time he comes to the brothel. 

        He’s stayed away too long, too afraid of the temptation of Eric’s want, his hoarse voice pleading with him to stay with me, please, be with me

        It’s not real, he repeats to himself. It’s not real.

        But he wants to pretend it is, just one more time.

        He keeps his aura wrapped as tightly around his frame as possible, but his hunger still calls to all the beings within his vicinity, the Madame’s pupils blowing wide at his presence.

        He hunches his shoulders.

       “I know what you are,” she says bluntly.

        Haru’s shoulders hunch higher. 

        “I’ll go.”

        She sighs as he turns away. 

        “Hold on, now. Don’t give me that kicked-puppy look,” she says, and he can’t help how his shoulders hunch even more. She groans. “Is that why you asked for an alpha the first time?”

        He hesitates, then nods. He knows werewolves heal quickly, alphas even more so, and he’d been so hungry for so long, tired of hiding in the corners of darkened clubs, barely able to feed from the raw energy of the dancing bodies before the people noticed and started gravitating towards him.

        Some part of him had wanted, just once, to be held, just to see what it felt like to be close to someone – to touch without being overwhelmed by fear.

        He’d still been overwhelmed by fear, that first night, had promised himself that the second the alpha showed any signs of distress or desperation, he would leave.

        But Eric had asked if it was his first time with a kind smile on his face, had undressed him so carefully, caressed him so tenderly, kissed every inch of him like he’d known how badly Haru had been starved for touch, and Haru had been lost.

        “You know they’re also immune, right?” The Madame’s voice brings him out of his thoughts.

        “What?” 

        “Alpha werewolves,” she clarifies. “They’re immune to a succubus’s thrall. Or incubus, in this case. Vampires are as well.” She gestures at herself. “Though unfortunately not as strongly.”

        “What?” he repeats, more faintly.

        The Madame rolls her eyes. “Oh my God, is that why you left him hanging?”

        “I–” Haru can barely take in air. 

        “Jesus Christ, why are men so helpless?” 

        Haru remains frozen, too afraid to hope.

        “Go on! Go get him before I knock some sense into you.”



Haru doesn’t want to be afraid anymore.

        He doesn’t say anything when the alpha walks into the room – their room – looking as handsome as the night Haru had first laid eyes on him.

        He doesn’t say anything as he yanks Eric close, kissing him within an inch of his life before throwing him onto the mattress so he can make love to him like it’s the end of the world.

        He doesn’t say anything when he’s full, and they’re panting and sated, trying to catch each other’s breaths, sweat-slicked bodies tangled in silk white sheets. He loves the contrast of their skin; his pale cream against Eric’s dark brown. 

        He can’t help that he’s still afraid, even when he doesn’t want to be, hiding his face in the alpha’s throat as he finally whispers, “I want you, too.”

        Eric pulls back, and Haru shyly meets his eyes, heartbeat racing.

        The alpha beams, bright as the sun, and when he joins their lips, all finally feels right in Haru’s world.


        END.


 Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Don't forget to leave a comment telling me what you thought!  

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