Series 1 Episode 1
Half past seven on Sunday night was Dylan Drummond’s least favourite time of the week. It was homework time. He’d put it off all week, and now he had just a couple of hours to finish every task he was set before Monday beckoned. Junior year wasn’t as exciting as it had cracked up to be so far. Lessons were dull, he got mountains of homework and he was struggling to make friends.
It was no help that Dylan moved house between freshman and sophomore years. So far, in his first month at Crystalshaw High, he’d only made one friend – his maths partner Yasmin Forsyth. Thankfully, for his own sanity, she was helping him with their maths homework that night.
Lying comfortably on his bed while Yasmin sat next to him, Dylan stared down at the set of questions in front of him. Trigonometry did not look remotely appealing, and he diverted his attention out of the window nearby.
“This question needs the opposite and the hypotenuse, so you need…,” Yasmin was explaining the question, before noticing Dylan wasn’t paying a single bit of attention, “Dylan, dude.” She was right. He wasn’t listening to a word she was saying, and was too busy staring outside.
His new house was situated right next to a forest, with only a small lane leading the way from Crystalshaw town to his residence. He wasn’t sure he liked the location, but no nosey neighbours was always a benefit.
“Dylan,” Yasmin insisted, firmer this time.
“Huh?” Dylan responded, snapping back into the room.
“I’m trying to do you a favour here, I finished this sheet on Tuesday,” Yasmin nagged. She did that a lot, but Dylan couldn’t complain. She was always keen to help, but her work ethic was much faster than his own.
“I’m sorry, it’s just so boring, I can’t hide it,” Dylan complained.
“Don’t let Mr. Larsen hear you say that, he’ll skin you alive,” Yasmin laughed, “My sister said that he once overheard a boy say he was too strict, and he made him clean his classroom from top to bottom every night that week.”
“Oh, come on, he’s a puppy dog, a total softy. I’m sure I can wangle my way out of a detention for no homework,” Dylan placed a lot of hope in his charm.
“If you say so,” Yasmin doubted his abilities. She shut her textbook and looked back at Dylan, “So, what are we gonna do instead?”
“Why don’t we explore out there?” Dylan looked to the large gathering of trees outside his window.
“You want to explore the woods at this time of night? Are you crazy?” Yasmin retorted.
“Absolutely,” Dylan smiled a cheeky smile. He stood up and held his hand out to a sceptical Yasmin. Giving in, she took his hand and rushed off away from the tedious pile of homework. However, neither noticed the sinister and unusual blood red glow just outside the window.
Running his hands through his locks, Dylan was immediately regretting not wearing a coat. It was on this occasion that he was thrilled he’d ignored his mum and grown his hair out longer than she wanted. Currently, his soft brown waves sat on top of his shoulders, providing that extra bit of warmth around his neck.
He led the way out of his house and towards the forest, with a sheepish Yasmin following. She was dressed more sensibly, with a soft winter coat and a cute bobble hat that sat on top of her longer brown hair, flowing down her back like a gentle waterfall.
“Have you been out here before?” Yasmin queried.
“Not properly,” Dylan responded.
“Dark forests give me the creeps,” Yasmin noted. She had her arms wrapped around her body, partly for warmth and partly for self-protection.
“I’ll protect you,” Dylan immediately responded.
“I can take care of myself,” Yasmin was defiant, “Besides, you can’t even take care of your own biology textbook.”
Dylan hated how Yasmin always burst his self-positivity bubble. He couldn’t argue with her though, she was always spot on with her observations.
Over the top of the leaves rustling and twigs crackling, Dylan noticed a low-pitched grumbling sound. He stopped dead in his tracks, Yasmin bumping into him absent-mindedly.
“Did you hear that?” he asked, worried.
“Hear what?” Yasmin questioned, baffled. The grumble sounded again, this time louder than before.
“That,” Dylan responded, his voice quivering, “Where’s it coming from?”
“I don’t know, but I sure as hell don’t want to find out. Let’s get out of here,” Yasmin decided, terrified. She turned around and began sprinting in the direction they came.
Dylan followed, but his clumsiness got the better of him and within an instant, he toppled to the floor, his phone bouncing out of his pocket and cracking. He landed with a thud, and by the time he looked up, Yasmin was out of sight.
Trying to clamber up, Dylan had to make his own way back. He felt around for his phone but wasn’t sure exactly where it had bounced to.
“For crying out loud,” he sighed, looking at the masses of mud all over his hands.
Just as he got back onto his feet, he was pushed back down again, landing with another thud and another splash of mud, flying all over Dylan’s precious locks. He turned around – nothing was there. However, he was one hundred percent certain that he was pushed. By what?
Dylan now felt terrified. Yasmin hadn’t returned for him, and he was out in the woods alone, at night, with something potentially dangerous. All of a sudden, he heard a familiar buzzing sound. Just a couple of metres away was his phone, vibrating with the backlight shining boldly.
“Thank god,” Dylan breathed a sigh of relief as he reached to get it. Just as he stretched his arm, he felt an intense pain shoot through his body. It came from his right leg – something was biting him. He shrieked in pain, never feeling anything as horrific as that before. It was like a creature was sinking its teeth into him for its dinner.
He used his left leg to kick the creature, summoning all of his strength, before grabbing his phone and running off, limping on his throbbing leg. He couldn’t get out of the forest fast enough.
Stumbling into his bedroom, Dylan slammed the door behind him. He felt an immediate sense of relief as he noticed just how fast his heart had been beating. He could have died out there. His mum would never have seen him again. He had to report it to the sheriff station first thing in the morning. What if it had moved by then though? That creature must have been smart, it only attacked when Dylan’s source of help was out of the way.
Speaking of Yasmin, there was no sign of her. Dylan felt a huge sense of dread run through his body as he immediately feared the worst. What if there were more than one creature and the other one had attacked Yasmin?
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a note placed neatly on top of his duvet. Calming down, Dylan picked it up and immediately recognised Yasmin’s perfect handwriting.
“See you tomorrow,” he read aloud. Dylan collapsed onto his bed, exhausted both physically and mentally. As he landed face first, he remembered the immense pain of his leg. He’d briefly forgotten the injury in his panic over Yasmin. Now he’d knocked it, and it hurt like hell.
He gently rolled over and yanked up his jean leg that was covering the injury. Before he’d rolled it up, he could see the obvious teeth marks in the fabric with horrendous amounts of blood soaked around them. He was not looking forward to taking a closer look, but he knew he had to.
Gently folding the tight light blue garment up, Dylan keenly looked at what the creature had done. Sure enough, it was as gruesome as he’d feared. There were gnaw marks in his skin and deep incisions where the blood had been dripping from.
He darted into his en suite bathroom and quickly turned the shower hose on, cleaning out the disgusting wound. It stung like hell, but he couldn’t let it get infected. Afterwards, he dabbed it gently with a towel, avoiding any pain he could. Then, he reached into the cupboard above the sink and pulled out a large bandage, wrapping it around the wound several times to keep it protected. He’d kept the bandages from when he used to skateboard – he was constantly hurting himself, until he broke his leg and was forced to give it up by his mum.
Glancing in the mirror, Dylan stared at his own face. He was lucky to be alive.
The next morning, Dylan strolled into school. The pain in his leg had subsided thankfully, and he bounced his way over to his locker, determined today would be better than yesterday. He took out his maths textbook and slammed his locker door shut, to find Yasmin glaring at him.
“Thanks for the text to let me know you were okay,” Yasmin sarcastically retorted.
“You could’ve stuck around,” Dylan stubbornly replied. He wasn’t one to admit he were wrong, and this occasion wasn’t any different.
“I had my own work to do, I thought you’d want to explore more. Anyway, I’m just glad you’re okay,” Yasmin smiled, “Did you get your homework done?” Dylan’s face dropped.
“Darn it,” he cursed, furious at himself.
“At least you’ve got your charm, remember?” Yasmin laughed. She led the way into Mr. Larsen’s classroom and took her seat at the desk in the back right hand corner. Dylan followed and sat in front of her.
Just as he sat down, Dylan saw Jono arriving. Jono was in most of his classes and had barely said a word to Dylan since school started, much like the rest of his classmates. However, Dylan couldn’t help staring. He adored his autumnal brown curls, which were a similar length to his own. In fact, Jono was perfect. He’d listened for weeks to Yasmin and her own desires for him, not yet feeling confident to admit he shared them.
“He’s so dreamy,” Yasmin commented. Dylan didn’t react as he watched Jono take the seat diagonally to the front and right of him. Perfect staring angle.
“Alright class, today we’re going to be working in pairs,” Mr. Larsen announced, “But first, your homework assignments.”
Mr. Larsen began collecting in the sheets of trigonometry questions people had placed on the edge of their desks. Dylan observed the different levels of effort that had gone into the homework. Some, like Yasmin, had perfectly drawn diagrams with beautifully laid out workings, while others had done the bare minimum. Mr. Larsen stopped at Jono.
“No homework?” Mr. Larsen deduced.
“Sorry sir,” Jono responded; his usual relaxed nature now looking more sombre.
“You’ll be even more sorry when you’re doing it for an hour after school,” Mr. Larsen cracked. Dylan grinned. He wouldn’t be alone for detention after all.
“Nothing from you either Drummond?” Mr. Larsen remarked. Dylan regretfully shook his head, his gleeful smile wiped off his face. Yasmin watched on, not seeing a single ounce of the charm he’d promised.
“Looks like I’ll be having a party in here tonight,” Mr. Larsen noted.
You and me both, Dylan thought. His happiness instantly turned into annoyance, as he noticed a pen tapping sound really loudly in his ear. He turned around to Yasmin, deducing the sound was coming from her. He was ready to tell her to stop being irritating, but her pen was perched on her desk. It hadn’t been touched all lesson.
“What’s up?” Yasmin noticed he wasn’t his usual self.
“Can’t you hear that?” Dylan queried.
“Hear what? This better not be another animal thing like last night,” Yasmin responded.
“Don’t worry,” Dylan shrugged, not wanting to waste any more time when Yasmin obviously couldn’t hear it. He glanced at the opposite end of the classroom – there he saw one of his classmates tapping her pen exactly in time with the sound he was hearing.
“What the hell?” he muttered under his breath, confused at how he could hear it so clearly. Something wasn’t right.
He glanced down at his leg. Dylan knew it had to be linked, and he couldn’t leave it any longer to find out. Trigonometry could wait.
Panicked, Dylan rushed out of the classroom and began heading towards the safety and privacy of the boys’ toilets. He looked in the mirror, feeling increasingly overwhelmed. He was breathless and panicked. He caught sight of his eyes in the mirror – bright yellow, like car lights.
Terrified, Dylan unwrapped his bandage. To his horror, there was no sign of any wound. Any delight that it had healed was cancelled out at how inhumanely fast it had vanished without a trace.
Dylan was beyond weirded out. Crazy stuff had been happening all day. Did he dream the night before? No, Yasmin remembered it. Besides, pain like that couldn’t be made up.
“Dylan?” Yasmin called from the other side of the door. She couldn’t see him like this – it would terrify her more than it had terrified him. He glanced in the mirror again. His eyes were back to normal. He must have dreamed that, surely?
Yasmin burst through the door, concerned at the lack of response.
“Hey, what’s up?” Yasmin gently asked Dylan, “You’ve been acting strange all day.”
“Everything’s up,” Dylan confessed, knowing he needed a helping hand desperately.
“You hurt yourself? Did you go to the hospital?” Yasmin questioned after Dylan filled her in on his injury the night before.
“I didn’t hurt myself, something else did. Whatever was out there, it bit into me,” Dylan clarified. It was break time, and the pair sat on a bench outside, much like they did every single break time. Dylan was a sucker for routine.
“Where did it bite you?” Yasmin was concerned.
“Here,” Dylan directed, lifting up his right trouser leg once more.
“There’s nothing there,” Yasmin told him, now concerned for Dylan.
“There was, it was awful,” Dylan corrected, “I don’t know what’s happened, but it healed overnight. That’s impossible.”
“Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?” Yasmin was sceptical.
“Yes!” Dylan was getting irritated by her lack of belief in him.
“Alright dude, chill out. I believe you, but you gotta admit it, it sounds ridiculous,” Yasmin reasoned. Dylan knew she wasn’t wrong, and he hadn’t told her the weirdest part yet.
“I know,” he admitted, “My eyes were glowing yellow too.”
As Yasmin stared wide-eyed at Dylan’s continued revelations, not sure what to make of it, the mood was interrupted as they were joined at the bench by Drew Marsden – a six-foot tall jock who was in most of their classes.
“Hey dudes,” he greeted. Dylan rolled his eyes. A few seconds of Drew’s presence was more than enough for him.
“Hey,” Yasmin unenthusiastically replied. She didn’t like Drew any more than Dylan did, and his arrival at that precise moment was infuriating.
“What are you nerds talking about?” he questioned impolitely.
“Nothing much,” Yasmin answered. Dylan sat in silence, trying to keep calm.
“What about pretty boy here?” Drew faced Dylan.
Drat, Dylan thought, hoping to avoid engaging at all. Simply looking at Drew’s face made his blood boil.
“Got any more detentions? Hey, at least you’ve got Jono, I’ve seen the way you stare at him,” Drew teased.
Dylan blushed – he’d been rumbled. All of a sudden, he felt himself getting angry. Angrier than he’d gotten after Drew’s remarks before. He was usually good at keeping calm and collected. His mum joked that if he were any more laid back, she’d rest her vases on top of him and call him a shelf. However, he was anything but relaxed in that moment. The mere sight of Drew made him furious.
He looked at his hands, clenched tightly to make fists. Blood began to seep out of both fists, much to his horror. Terrified of what was happening to him, Dylan unclenched his hands to examine them. His fingers had turned into sharp, dangerous claws. He immediately shut his eyes, hoping and praying they weren’t glowing again.
Noticing Dylan’s odd behaviour, Yasmin intervened.
“Hey, you can’t come over here and start making my friend feel uncomfortable. So what if he fancies Jono?” Yasmin defended. Drew huffed and sighed, before standing up and leaving, giving up.
“That was incredible,” Dylan smiled to Yasmin, breathing a sigh of relief that their unwanted guest had gone, as well as the fact he was back to his usual self.
“He’s vile,” Yasmin remarked as the school bell sounded. Time for double biology before lunch. Dylan couldn’t have felt less motivated if he’d tried.
“By the way,” Yasmin caught his arm as he stood up, “I meant what I said. If Drew’s on the money, you know I don’t give a darn, right?”
“Right,” Dylan awkwardly responded. His heart felt warm with Yasmin’s sentiment, but he didn’t want to confirm that Drew was right just yet. Still not feeling up to biology, Dylan saw his opportunity to escape.
“I’ve just remembered, I have an urgent dentist appointment,” Dylan unconvincingly told Yasmin, rushing off before she could argue. Yasmin rolled her eyes, wondering what had gotten into her friend.
Tapping away ferociously at his computer, Dylan had actually gone to the local library down the road. This was the perfect chance to research his symptoms, so he could finally close the book on this madness and dismiss it as sleep deprivation or something similar. Besides, it wasn’t like he could go to a doctor about his symptoms. They would think he was crazy.
Getting down to business, the first thing he googled was “yellow eyes,”. All he saw were advertisements for contact lenses and help pages for jaundice – not the same thing. He then tried “claws,”, and was met with links to fancy dress for Halloween and reviews for a drama series called ‘Claws’. It was always going to be a long shot.
Feeling deflated, Dylan nevertheless tried his last attempt – “unusually fast healing,”. Strangely, this brought up an article about a school in Beacon Hills, Beacon County. The article spoke of the hysteria created by a young high school student called Frankie Hartman, who wrote another article confirming the existence of werewolves, with a list of suspects and apparent proof, before withdrawing the article and rubbishing his claims as a moment of madness.
“What a psycho,” Dylan remarked, talking quietly to himself. He continued reading through, gripped by how interesting the quotes from the original article were. It mentioned how they looked as werewolves. Startlingly, it referred to glowing yellow eyes, claws, and inhumanely fast ability to heal.
“It got you, didn’t it?” came a voice from directly behind. Dylan jumped out of his skin and turned around to see Drew watching him. Immediately on the defensive, Drew justified his arrival, “Don’t worry, I’m not here to cause trouble.”
“I don’t know what you’re on about,” Dylan lied.
“I noticed the signs earlier. You did well to hide it but I knew what I was looking for. You can’t kid a kidder,” Drew explained, speaking more softly than usual.
“What am I?” Dylan questioned, desperate to know.
“A werewolf,” Drew answered, “Just like me.”
“This isn’t funny,” Dylan didn’t believe him, in spite of what he’d just read.
“You saw that article. There are packs of werewolves all over the world,” Drew continued.
“That article wasn’t genuine, didn’t you see the statement? Moment of madness,” Dylan was still in denial.
“And you believe everything you read?” Drew laughed at Dylan’s innocence, “If the world knew about us, there would be chaos. People struggle to accept other humans as it is. To say adding a new species would be an uphill struggle is an understatement.” Dylan knew he was right.
“How did you… you know, find out?” Dylan queried. He still couldn’t get the word out.
“Bitten, like you,” Drew answered.
“By another one?” Dylan tried to connect the dots.
“By the alpha,” Drew concluded, “The leader of the pack. The only one that can pass the bite on.” Dylan tried to process the information. It was a lot to take in and he struggled with these revelations.
“I know it’s a lot, so I’ll leave you to digest it. You know where I am if you have more questions. When you have more questions,” Drew concluded the chat, before walking off and leaving Dylan sat at his computer. He took a deep breath, trying to remain calm, but his day so far had been one ridiculous event after another.
Normality ensued that afternoon when Dylan slumped back into Mr. Larsen’s classroom. He was the first one there, and immediately went to sit at the back.
“Take out your homework sheet. I want it finished by the end of this hour,” Mr. Larsen commanded. In that moment, Jono casually strolled in.
“Nice of you to join us Mr. Chadwick,” Mr. Larsen commented.
“Sorry I’m late,” Jono sheepishly apologised. Dylan thought he’d sit on a desk a couple of rows in front – they’d never spoken so he wasn’t expecting them to be best buddies all of a sudden.
However, Jono headed straight to the back and plonked himself down on the seat next to Dylan without a second thought. Dylan was both delighted and disappointed. Delighted because there was now the tiny possibility of conversation, but disappointed because cheeky stares would now be much more of a challenge without Jono noticing.
“Alright?” Jono greeted, being friendly. Dylan froze. He had no idea if “alright,” was a substitute for “hello,”, or an actual request to find out how he was.
“Alright?” Dylan replied, opting for the former. Jono smiled in response – he picked the right option. So far, so good.
Jono yanked his homework sheet out of his bag and sighed. Dylan couldn’t help enjoying the incredible scent of Jono’s aftershave, teasing his nostrils cruelly.
“I really hate math,” Jono confessed, whispering to Dylan. Dylan found it difficult to cover up his excitement at conversation actually taking place. Jono was actually talking to him. Taking an interest in him. Now he surely was dreaming.
“Same,” Dylan responded. He desperately wanted to make more conversation, but was stuck on what to say, “My friend Yasmin helps me out with it.”
“You two seem pretty close,” Jono commented.
Drat. He thought Dylan and Yasmin were an item. A common misconception and easily done, but it was the last thing Dylan wanted him to think.
“We’re just friends,” Dylan clarified.
“Cool,” Jono smiled. Dylan couldn’t read what this meant.
Jono remained as cool as a cucumber, but the grin on his face looked cheeky. No matter what though, Dylan didn’t want to let himself get carried away.
For the next half hour, the duo sat mostly in silence, working their way through the homework sheet. The only conversation came from Jono asking Dylan for help, not that Dylan could offer much guidance. As the detention went on, Dylan felt more and more comfortable in Jono’s presence. He was letting his hair down and felt all the better for it.
“Boys, I’m just heading upstairs for five minutes to get some exercise books from the cupboard,” Mr. Larsen announced. Both of them nodded in acknowledgement. As soon as he stepped out of the room, Jono dropped his pen onto the desk and turned his body to face Dylan.
“So, Mr. Larsen, hot or not?” Jono asked light-heartedly. Dylan was taken aback. Huh? Why was he asking about a man? Did he know his secret? Well, one of his ever-growing list of secrets.
He considered the question anyway. Mr. Larsen hadn’t been teaching for long, he must have been no older than 28 or so, but he looked younger.
“He’s not bad, not really my type,” Dylan confessed, essentially coming out to Jono. He felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.
“He’s a cutie, the best thing about math,” Jono added. Dylan was mind blown. Not only did he just confirm his own interest in guys, but his crush had done the exact same. He didn’t know how to react.
“So, what is your type?” a nosey Jono picked up on Dylan’s reply. Considering his words very carefully, Dylan pondered a response that was something other than “you,”.
“Dark hair, my age, cute smile,” Dylan described what he saw in front of him, without giving the game away.
“Me too really,” Jono mentioned. Dylan’s heart fluttered. He knew that description could easily fit him too; well, he hoped Jono found his smile cute anyway. Regardless of the flirting, Dylan was still finding it too good to be true. Jono was surely going to tell him it was all a wind up soon.
“Hey, when this detention is over, do you wanna hang out?” Jono proposed. Dylan immediately wanted to shout “yes,” but didn’t want to appear overly enthusiastic.
“Sure,” he replied, keenly but calmly. There was no sign of the so-called werewolf in him so far, he just needed to keep things at bay for a while longer. It was the only thing that could spoil his evening.
The final half-hour of the detention was a slog for Dylan. The anticipation of hanging with Jono was too high, and any idea of actually getting his head around trigonometry was long since gone. Every second felt like an hour, and he had never seen the minute hand of the clock tick around to the hour so sluggishly. He was convinced he’d done a solid twenty minutes of work, but the clock only told him it had been five.
“Alright boys, off you go,” Mr. Larsen dismissed the pair.
Dylan could have jumped for joy, like an excited puppy. He shoved his equipment into his bag carelessly and followed Jono’s lead out of the classroom.
Out of the corridors and into the open air of the car park, Dylan’s excitement and eagerness was almost bubbling over. He had to keep an eye on himself, just in case something weird happened again. He needed to look normal in front of Jono.
Leading the way to his car, Jono opened the passenger door for Dylan, like a chauffeur. Impressed, Dylan clambered into Jono’s small but cosy car. It was a little messy, not as well kept as Jono’s appearance would suggest, but it was typical of a teenage boy. The red colour appealed to Dylan – not only was it his favourite colour, but it seemed to represent every emotion he’d experienced in his rollercoaster day.
“Where are we going?” Dylan eagerly questioned.
“My hangout, you’ll see,” Jono vaguely replied. Dylan’s interest was perched. Jono flicked the on switch on his car radio, starting up a commercial radio station. “New Rules,” by Dua Lipa was playing.
“I love this song,” Dylan commented, making conversation.
“Me too, have you heard the album?” Jono reciprocated. Dylan shook his head.
“Oh my god, we must listen to it, you’re missing out,” Jono gushed.
Common ground. Dylan smiled – another box ticked. He had a warm, fuzzy feeling inside, one he hadn’t experienced before.
The car journey was short, Jono only lived about five minutes away from the school. His house was in the middle of a quiet, pleasant looking street. The house itself was bigger than Dylan’s, and most excitingly, he spotted a substantial looking treehouse outside in the front garden.
“Welcome home,” Jono grinned as he parked up on the driveway.
“Wow,” Dylan was in awe of the treehouse. It looked so cosy, and it made him envious.
“It’s my escape from my sister,” Jono explained, “Wanna see it?”
“Sure,” Dylan grinned. Jono led the way up the beautifully sculpted wooden ladder, Dylan following just behind. It was an easy enough climb, although he wasn’t the biggest fan of heights.
It’s alright, I’ll just heal if I fall, like earlier, Dylan thought. However, he wasn’t one hundred percent sure of that. Just because some freaky garish bite in his leg healed, it didn’t mean he’d heal quickly forevermore.
Jono gave him a hand at the top of the ladder, and as soon as his feet touched the strong wooden floor, Dylan took in his surroundings. The treehouse was reasonably roomy, with enough space for them to stand up. A couple of chairs were up there, as well as beanbags and a table. The walls were decorated pristinely, with posters of singers and television shows that Jono liked. Dylan eyed a Dua Lipa poster among them.
“This is where I do my homework. Sorry, there’s no heating, but I keep this up here,” Jono chucked a blanket over to Dylan, who plonked himself down on a beanbag.
“Cheers,” Dylan responded, wrapping the blanket around himself as comfortably as he could, sheltering himself from the bitter cold of the approaching night.
“I only have the one, so we’ll have to share,” Jono mentioned. Dylan would usually have sighed, having just made himself extra cosy under the blanket, but he didn’t mind sharing.
The butterflies in his stomach were amplifying. Once again, he checked for any potential claws. Nothing out of the ordinary so far. Phew.
Jono crashed onto the beanbag adjacent and grabbed the end of the blanket. They were closer than before, and Dylan didn’t know what to say. An awkward silence ensued.
“You wanna…?” Jono began, tailing off. He didn’t have to say more. Looking directly into his eyes, Dylan knew exactly what he meant.
“Yes,” Dylan responded, giving his consent nervously but excitedly.
Jono leaned in towards Dylan’s face, until their lips met. Dylan instantly knew he adored the touch of Jono’s soft, smooth, gentle lips – the best feeling in the world. He felt more at ease around Jono than he ever had. It just felt right.
As they kissed, Dylan felt Jono’s hand playing with his hair, so he did the same back. The feel of Jono’s luscious curls in his hand just made everything even better.
He opened his eyes momentarily and was horrified to see that his fingers had become claws, much like he’d worried, and they were messing with Jono’s precious hair. He had to escape somehow, before things got even worse…