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Mikey would probably never admit it, but he actually loved the week leading up to the full moon. Sure, Ray's soft and friendly demeanor sharpened around the edges as his body prepared for the changes, but—
A. It made Ray let loose way more during sex. He worried less about hurting Mikey, which he always appreciated. As much as it was nice to feel cared for, it was secretly even nicer just to get railed into oblivion first before being cared for.
B. Ray's need for cuddles was amped up, and the contrast between his feverish body heat and Mikey's complete lack of was perfect for both of them
C. Maybe Mikey had a weird thing for the way Ray smelled stronger with the pre-changes, and maybe it was harder to give Ray some personal space.
Thankfully, Ray loved him enough not to care.
Mikey was fighting his instinct to press himself up against Ray's back as he tried to distract himself with a riff, some bullshit that was on repeat in his brain, and Mikey could tell that the frustration was still there. Ray's fingers were usually more precise; they always seemed to know what they were doing over the frets. Except now.
Ray huffed and grunted to himself every few notes, never pleased with himself.
Mikey pressed his thumb against one of his own fangs when an idea finally hit him. "Sing for me?" he asked so softly, he was sure he almost imagined the words.
But Ray blinked, anyway, and turned to face him. Good ol' super-hearing. "I can't," he muttered back at the same volume.
Mikey frowned. "Why?"
Ray gripped the guitar neck a little tighter. "Throat hurts," he decided, and looked back down at the strings.
It could have been a fake excuse; Mikey knew Ray wasn't a huge fan of his own voice, but Mikey begged to differ. What Ray thought was too squeaky or nasally or just a tone too sharp, Mikey found him softer. Effortless and calming. His body shifted a few inches closer to Ray, still just shy of touching him. "Please?"
Ray kept his gaze down this time and bit his tongue. "Not now. Maybe after the moon, love, okay?" Still, he set the guitar down and pulled Mikey onto his lap as a replacement, just burying his face into his chest with a soft whine.
They had a small cabin in Ramapo they'd go every month, and as the sun set on the night of the full moon, Ray stumbled out the door and disappeared behind the treeline. Mikey had given him ample space to get through the harsh transformation, but when the soft-eyed wolf came back to lay on his belly and wag his tail at the vampire, the hunt was officially on.
They ran together between pine and oak trees, through tall grass and over rocky terrain until they both found themselves strong, healthy deer to attack. They were quiet to each other until the hunger was sated, but after Ray had eaten what was left of Mikey's deer post-blood drain, they both retreated to their favorite scenic spot. A small cliff overlooking the rest of the mountains.
There was no light pollution, which made the constellations really have their spotlights. Mikey took a seat by the edge and let his long legs swing gently, leaning back on his arms. "You feelin' good now, Toro?" he asked, smiling up at the wolf.
Ray would usually lay down next to him and rest, but he stayed standing for a few minutes longer. Only leaning his head down to nuzzle Mikey's cheek, he quickly lifted it back up and howled to the stars. The voice was just as melodic as ever, but the song had something so personal embedded into the wordless tune.
The song carried out over the other mountains as Mikey shifted closer and buried his face in the hot, sweaty fur of his shoulder, and he grinned.