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Time passes. Well before Zeus's thirteenth birthday, he looks human-25, and then he stops, and Harley catches up; Zeus is still taller, but not by much, and burlier, but not by much.
Wolves have a lot of casual sex amongst themselves; the girl wolves can't get pregnant, and with pack telepathy it would be pretty hard to hide a secret crush. Everyone avoids getting serious - well, the lesbians don't, but any couple involving a male wolf has to avoid deep emotional entanglements that would shatter if he imprinted; the Imperial Seer helps, but she is not perfect and they will live for long enough that even a slim chance adds up. But casual sex absolutely happens. Zeus has a friend with benefits by the time he's fifteen (her name is Kitty, but she thinks this is ridiculous, and prefers "Xanthe" after her yellow fur).
He helpfully passes on to the pack that Harley thinks they are all hot; several people take advantage of this information, and Harley has more than one friend with benefits at the age of fifteen.
(Meanwhile, the masquerade is in tatters; wolves are just more convenient than looking for human partners, at least until Zeus decides he's interested in the Seer finding him a suitable imprint.)
This newfound interest does not mean Zeus and Harley don't hang out, even now that they're both sixteen. Presently, Harley is getting his ass handed to him by his wolf-reflexed sparring partner at a mo-cap fighting video game entitled Bloodsport V.
her_imperial_radiance
Leg-hug.
Idly, "What's it like only wanting to kiss people with boobs? I mean, you know me, I'll kiss anybody with a face."
Idly, "What's it like only wanting to kiss people with boobs? I mean, you know me, I'll kiss anybody with a face."
"I bet you'd kiss somebody without a face, if you could figure out how the hell to do it," says Zeus. "I dunno, it's... I am aware that mouths work the same on everybody? I just don't ever feel like putting that knowledge to practical use. No matter how hot Xanthe insists it'd be."
"Pack telepathy makes it kind of confusing because I am aware of what it's like for other people to want to kiss the unboobened population," says Zeus. "Xanthe, any of your miscellaneous playmates, random traveling-pack-people, whatever. When I'm sorted out in my head I know it's not mine, though." He taps his chin again. "At least insofar as I've bothered to think about it, which, I'm not completely un-self-aware, but also am not Her Majesty, you know? Maybe kissing is boobs-only and, I dunno, blowjobs aren't." He contemplates this. "I just made that up but now I think it might be true."
"I think you'd probably have to bribe, threaten, or magic me to get me to figure out how to give one."
Zeus considers this. "If you were anyone else I'd be saying 'just like that?' 'what kind of alien are you?' 'what's the catch?', but I already know that the answers to that are 'yes', 'a Harley kind of alien' and 'I poisoned your omelet, duh'."
"Of the activities I am willing that Jake or Her Highness walk in on unexpectedly, though, that is not on the list, so if you mean anything resembling now a change of room is necessary. Like, Jake'll know about it eventually if it's remotely memorable, because, pack telepathy, but that is not the same thing."
"Sure thing," says Zeus, and he rolls up out of his chair onto his feet, bounces once, smiles, and offers the floorsitting Harley his hand.
Hugs. The resumption of pantsedness.
Zeus experimentally attempts words again after a minute. "Thanks," he says, "you are great."
Zeus experimentally attempts words again after a minute. "Thanks," he says, "you are great."