Archive of Our Own ^beta

Zayn hears them the first night he’s moved in, starts as yips and barks until it turns into harmonious howling. He probably should be scared and he is, to some extent. He can feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, goosebumps along his arms but he’s not entirely sure it’s fear. Feels like something else. A shock of curiosity, maybe.

Zayn meets Harry a week later, the man running down the trail outside Zayn’s cabin stops when he sees Zayn on the porch. Looks surprised, almost, but doesn’t hesitate when he approaches Zayn, extends a hand. “Hi there, new neighbor.”

Zayn eyes him cautiously; he can’t be any older than Zayn but he’s taller, built thicker and more muscled and he’s shirtless and sweaty even though it’s barely sixty degrees out in the middle of October. “I’m Harry,” he says easily, keeps his hand out until Zayn snuffs out his cigarette and steps forward, greets him.

“Zayn.”

“You just move in, then?” Harry asks, looks at ease but there’s something sharp in his voice. Tense.

“Uh. Yeah. It was my grandfather’s cabin, we’d come up in the summers and he left it to me. Free place to move out to, finally.”

Harry nods slowly, looks like he’s considering something but all he does is give Zayn a friendly smile, puts his earbuds back in and steps back towards the trail. “Well, good to meet you, Zayn. Stay safe, yeah?”

*

Nights he doesn’t hear wolves he hears boys yelling, bottles being smashed or loud cracks of wood out in the forest. Zayn’s never been intimidated by teenagers getting drunk out in the woods on weekends but there’s something malicious about this, finds the trees just outside his property line carved up with claw marks or knives. The closest neighbor is at least a mile down the trail towards town but Zayn gets the distinct feeling he’s intruding on something.

Zayn’s never been a fan of guns, but he does start sleeping with a baseball bat under his bed.

*

He sees Harry a lot and they end up on a friendly basis, mornings that Zayn’s awake and Harry’s on his morning jogs turn into Zayn inviting him in for coffee. Mostly it’s because Zayn’s lonely, doesn’t like waking up on his own after a night of wolves howling or teenagers screaming bloody murder in the woods. Maybe he should get a dog.

“Do you live around here?” Zayn asks one morning, Harry bundled up in a jacket and jeans and he wasn’t running this morning, just walking. Looked tired.

“I live in town,” Harry replies, picks absent-mindedly at his napkin before giving Zayn a small smile.

“Have you ever heard. Like. Wolves? In the forest up here?”

Something tugs at the edges of Harry’s mouth, some private joke that Zayn’s not in on. “Yeah. They don’t usually bother anyone, though. They’re not dangerous.”

“Have you ever seen one?”

Harry’s full grinning now but trying to hide it, bites his lip and puts on a shit attempt of a poker face. “Mm-hmm.” He doesn’t offer to explain and Zayn doesn’t ask.

They’re quiet after that, Harry tapping out to someone on his phone after a series of chimes and Zayn leans against the sink across from him, clicks a thumbnail against the ceramic of his mug. Harry hums a surprised noise at the back of his throat, looks up from his phone to Zayn. “You like wolves?” he asks, nods to the black wolf tattoo on Zayn’s shin and the question throws him for a moment.

“I guess. Just thought it was a sick tattoo, though.”

Harry hums again, still distracted by his phone. Asks, “Do you believe in, like, werewolves?” without looking up from the screen.

“Are you serious?”

Harry rolls his eyes, stuffs his phone back in his pocket after what must be a tense conversation with whoever’s on the other end. “Yes.”

Zayn doesn’t exactly say yes, but he doesn’t say no either, and that’s all the answer that Harry seemed to be looking for.

The question sticks in the back of Zayn’s brain, feels completely idiotic when he first googles werewolf myths but an hour and a half later he’s completely and totally convinced, has clicked through every result on google for the first four pages. Harry doesn’t bring it up again but Zayn can’t help but notice certain things, now. How Harry’s eyes are more gold than green on the mornings after a full moon, scrapes on his hands and arms that he doesn’t explain when Zayn asks. It’s either Zayn’s paranoid as hell or Harry’s just hiding something. Zayn figures he’ll never know the answer unless he brings it up himself. A napkin slid across the table to him during breakfast the morning of the full moon, watches as Harry unfolds it and reads the can I watch in Zayn’s frantic scrawl. Harry just gives him a look that Zayn can’t quite read. Nods anyway.

Zayn notices more about Harry over time, how he speaks with sharp teeth and words that keep coming out wrong, can’t quite get his hands to work right. He doesn’t mean to be so rough but it’s just that he can’t explain how he’s so grateful for the body he’s in now, how unwilling he is to shift over to that other body. Zayn wonders what it’s like to be torn into another skin like that, it’s only twelve times a year but it’s enough that he’s not quite the same anymore. Has one night every month on his pocket calendar that’s completely blacked out, started as period jokes until Zayn saw him change the first time.

Harry’s already stripped down to a pair of sweatpants by the time Zayn comes to the backyard. Almost makes a joke about big bad wolves but doesn’t, can’t bring himself to with the way that Harry’s holding himself, hunched in on himself to keep warm or maybe to keep himself steady, still manages to give Zayn a quick grin regardless.

“You won’t eat me or anything, will you,” Zayn deadpans and Harry breathes a laugh, shakes his head.

“I’m still me, when it happens. Just, like. Make sure you’re not bleeding or anything.”

“And it lasts all night?”

“Until sunrise.”

There’s more questions that Zayn wants to ask but he doesn’t get the chance because Harry gasps, there’s a muted crack and he can’t stand quite right anymore, drops to all fours and bows his head. Zayn waits quietly, counts the knobs in Harry’s spine and watches the way the boy’s shoulders rise and fall with jerkish motions, hands balled into fists in the dirt.

“You ever see American Werewolf in London?” Zayn finally cracks meekly and Harry’s body shivers a laugh in response and then he screams when it happens and it happens fast, shrinking and stretching all at once. Zayn can't bring himself to look away, can't decide if it's the most amazing thing he's ever seen or the weirdest fucking thing he's ever seen. It's not like the movie transformations he wasted an hour watching on youtube, it happens quick and the only sound is Harry, caught somewhere between a sigh and a growl. He falls away from his skin but Zayn would still know it was him, just by the way he stands. The tilt of the wolf's shoulders. It feels like Zayn blinks and there’s a wolf where Harry was, shaking into his fur and blinking up at him with the same green eyes from before.

“Does it hurt?” Zayn finally asks once he’s regained the ability to speak, crouches to be at Harry’s eye level. He doesn’t expect an answer but Harry bows his head anyway, shakes it side to side a few times and steps closer to Zayn, pushes his head into Zayn’s hands. He’s a big wolf, lean but powerful, stands patiently while Zayn works his hands through the thick fur, over his ears and across the markings on his face.

When Zayn stands up again Harry noses at his pile of clothes and Zayn understands, “You can come back here in the morning, then?” he asks as he gathers up Harry’s clothes and Harry’s face breaks into a wolfish grin, nuzzles at Zayn’s leg before he trots off into the thick of the woods.

Zayn wakes up to a loud clatter, jerks awake so suddenly he almost falls off the couch, dislodges the notebook on his chest when he sits up to see Harry in the kitchen, picking up the lid to the teapot. It’s only 7:30, sun barely seeping through the crack between the closed curtains and Zayn can see Harry trembling, must have just gotten in. “Hey,” Zayn calls quietly but Harry jumps, whips around and immediately relaxes when he sees Zayn on the couch.

“Hi,” he replies, voice hoarse and he frowns, takes a gulp of the tea he’s poured into a mug and shuffles out into the living room, sits on the recliner across from Zayn. He’s got a leaf in his hair, scratches up and down his arms and a pair of boxers slung low on his hips.

“Go ahead,” Harry finally laughs after a few more sips of his tea, his hands not shaking so much. “Ask away.”

It takes Zayn a moment, he sits up and grabs for the notebook, a list of questions he started last night but the last thing is ended mid-sentence before he fell asleep, how long--

“What’s it like?” Zayn asks, it’s not on the list but he has to know and Harry takes a while to answer.

“It doesn’t hurt,” he finally says in his slow drawl, makes the whole thing sound saner than it really is, “I mean, the waiting hurts the most, I think. But once it’s actually happening, it’s not as bad as it looks.” he scratches at one of the cuts on his arm absent-mindedly, Zayn knows he’s not done answering. “It’s just like. Something that I just get through. A couple hours running around the woods.”

.”How did it happen?”

Harry hesitates again, Zayn’s starting to realize that it’s not a reluctance to answer but instead it’s a time to get his thoughts together, make sure he can say them right. “I was bit when I was uhhh, nine, I think. I was on a camping trip with my step-dad and I was off finding firewood, got attacked and woke up in the hospital. Uh, pretty cliche story, I guess. Both my parents know, when I was younger they’d just have me shift in the basement until I got too big and then they’d start taking me to those woods, pick me up in the mornings. I’m lucky, I think. If you can say that.”

Zayn just nods, watches Harry worry at the ring on his middle finger, twists it until the skin underneath gets red. “Are there others of you?”

Harry pauses. “I have a pack,” he replies slowly, tilts his head towards the door. “There’s three others. Uh.” He runs a hand through his hair, gives Zayn a careful smile. “You kind of moved in on our territory. Louis gave me two weeks to convince you to move out until he’s going to take it into his own hands. I thought maybe...if I was friendly enough...you’d consider it?” he gives Zayn a hopeful look, raises his eyebrows. “You didn’t really think I was just some stranger who happened to run by your house every day, did you?”

Zayn raises his eyebrows, looks around at the boxes he still hasn’t managed to unpack and he’s already being asked to leave. “What do you mean, take this into his own hands. Who’s Louis?” he asks, puts the notebook of other questions on the coffee table and squints at Harry.

“I mean, Louis prefers hunting during his shift, Liam hates having humans around, and Niall just likes his space. Louis is just kind of a...territorial leader. So. It’d be in your best interest if you left? I mean. I don’t want you to leave. I kind of like having a human around. As long as you don’t have guns. You don’t have any guns, do you?”

Zayn shakes his head and Harry smiles. “Alright. Well, you’re alright in my book. But, Zayn?”

“Hmm.”

“My packmates might be a bit more intimidating.”

*

Louis is everything Harry isn’t, quick with his words and somehow more intimidating and shows up on Zayn’s front step unannounced.

“Harry told you about us?” he says after a quick introduction, a warm smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

Zayn nods but doesn’t invite Louis in, leans against the doorframe and waits for him to make a point.

“So why haven’t you left yet?” Louis asks, tone friendly and talking as if he’s not threatening Zayn.

“Because this is my house?”

Louis hums, as if that’s not a good enough answer, takes a step forward so he’s crowding Zayn’s space, close enough for Zayn to see the small gold flecks in Louis’s shocking blue eyes, just like Harry. “You really want to play with a pack of wolves, mate?”

“Wolves or poodles? You don’t seem like the predatory type.”

Louis gives him a cool smile, seems to swallow back a reply but instead just salutes Zayn, turns on his heel and starts away down the trail into the woods.

*

The first time Zayn sees all four of them he’s smoking on his balcony outside his bedroom, nearly midnight and he can’t sleep because they’re all howling. He recognizes Harry immediately, one of the two largest with wild brown and red fur and his green eyes. He’s knocking shoulders with a sandy blonde wolf, slight and swift who doesn’t take his blue eyes off Zayn the entire time they circle the house. Zayn can tell which one Louis is, light brown and quick, darts around and bumps shoulders and muzzles with the other three, the other large dark brown wolf close by his side. They don’t approach the house but Zayn feels all their eyes on him.

*

Zayn’s just starting to get the impression that Louis’s bite is worse than his bark when his shed catches fire. It’s a few days before the full moon and Harry hasn’t stopped by much, can tell that they’re all moody because Zayn still hasn’t moved out or acknowledged their claw scratches on his front porch or passive aggressive TPing of the cabin. The shed is really the last straw, though--Zayn puts it out with the garden hose and stands in the middle of his backyard with it, can feel eyes on him through the trees. “I’m not leaving, Louis!” he shouts to the forest. “I’m not leaving and you should be lucky I’m not calling the fucking cops or something, alright. Grow up.” He’s grumbling by the end of it, really, gives the smoldering edges of the burnt shed one more blast with the hose for good measure before stalking back inside. Can’t believe he’s telling a pack of werewolves to behave like adults, honestly.

*

Zayn doesn’t sleep during full moons anymore, it’s only the fourth month of living in the cabin but he’s learned now that they’re going to howl all night, circle his house and prevent him from sleeping. He’s never seen them come close to the house--mostly they hover at the treeline, step forward onto the property just enough that Zayn can see Niall’s eyes, Louis’s bared teeth.

Tonight he takes his cigarette on the porch, steps out and closes the door behind him. Figures if they can play territorial assholes then he can, too. He’s not scared until he sees Liam across the trail in front of Zayn’s yard. He’s just starting to wonder if they can smell fear when Louis comes prowling out of the trees next to Liam, trots easily across the trail that until now seems to have been the invisible border between them. Zayn can see the wolf’s breath in the frosty moonlight, stands his ground and Louis stands his, maybe fifty yards away from the house.

“I’m not leaving,” Zayn says again in an exhale of smoke and Louis twitches, flicks his ears back and bares his teeth at Zayn’s voice. Everything about his characteristics dominating and powerful, crouches like he’s about to run at Zayn and Zayn knows that he’s not bluffing, swallows down the panic and reaches for his doorknob just as Louis starts forward.

There’s a growl and then a whimper, Zayn turns from where he’s pressed against the door to see Harry standing between Louis and the house. There’s some exchange that Zayn misses, Harry bows his head, belly to the ground and Louis glares down at him and nothing moves for a moment, Niall and Liam both standing stiffly still on the other side of the trail. And then Louis huffs a breath, leans down to press his muzzle into the back of Harry’s neck until the larger wolf stands up again. Louis starts another staring match with Zayn, raises his head to the house again until Harry jostles him from the eyecontact, ushers him back towards Niall and Liam until the four disappear into the woods.

*

He doesn’t see them for a long time after that.

And then the next month at dawn there’s something crashing through the trees and there’s something--someone--pounding on Zayn’s door, jerks him out of his uneasy sleep so suddenly he doesn’t even have time to be mad.

Liam’s the only one human and he looks like hell, blood all down his neck and arms and he’s holding Louis, the remaining three still in wolf form and Liam’s trying to explain but can’t get the words out quite right, is shaking so hard that Zayn’s worried he’s going to drop Louis. “Come on,” he says without hesitation, leads Liam in and shoves everything off the kitchen table so he can lay the bloodied wolf down. Niall’s the next one to come into the house once he’s shifted, grabs the blanket off Zayn’s couch and wraps it around himself and Harry’s coming in moments later and this is too much blood and nudity for 6AM, in Zayn’s book.

“What happened,” Zayn asks, grabbing dishtowels and a bottle of water that he hands to Niall, hovers uncertainly against the wall while Liam lays a careful hand on Louis’s side. His question goes ignored for a bit, Niall’s scolding Liam you can’t force your shift like that again and Harry’s prodding gently at Louis’s wounds, a bleeding ear and bitemark on his shoulder, he’s not changing back, he needs stitches, Li and all three of them look like they’re about to shake out of their skin again.

“I can give him stitches,” Zayn pipes up louder this time, Liam flinches hard at his voice and Niall and Harry exchange a weary look but there’s not really time to talk about it, is there, so Harry gives a sharp nod and Zayn trips off to the medicine cabinet, scrambles for the sewing kit he’s never actually used.

Zayn presses a towel soaked with rubbing alcohol onto Louis’s shoulder and the wolf inhales sharply, twitches at the pain and Liam moves to hold him down. Zayn doesn’t feel totally convinced, watching one of Liam’s hand wrap around Louis’s muzzle and the other pressing his back firmly onto the table, still thinks that if Louis was to wake up and want to kill Zayn, he could do it.

He starts to stitch him up, anyway.

They move Louis to the couch and he shifts back to himself an hour later, shudders into it under the blanket that’s covering him but Zayn doesn’t watch. Feels like he’d be intruding on something, busies himself in the kitchen while the three others crowd the couch, quiet conversation that Zayn tries not to hear.

*

Zayn gets the full story from Louis a week later, the boy showing up with his hands in his pockets on Zayn’s porch and his figurative tail between his legs.

“Liam was the one who attacked me, it happens sometimes,” he starts slowly, can’t quite look Zayn in the eye. “Niall caught a rabbit and Liam’s still not good at keeping his head straight around blood. Like a sodding shark or something, that one.” Louis pauses, runs a finger over the butterfly bandages just behind his ear. “I wanted to apologize.”

Zayn raises his eyebrows, feels like Louis isn’t that far from the ‘wolf in sheep’s clothing’ characters he learned about as a child. “I’m serious. I’m sorry for terrorizing you, we all are. I was just trying to keep them safe and all, yeah?”

“Still not an excuse for burning down my shed.”

“I know.”

“Or trying to attack me on my own front lawn.”

“Alright, in my defense I wasn’t totally myself that night--”

“Obviously.”

Louis narrows his eyes when he catches Zayn’s smirk. “Are you taking the piss out of me, Malik?”

“You’re kind of stand-offish, aren’t you, Tomlinson?”

*

They adopt him pretty quickly after that, starts with Harry bringing Niall by some mornings for their breakfast chats and then soon it’s the five of them hanging around Zayn’s house before the full moon. Zayn barbecuing and listening to them swap stories about scars and hunts and awkward times they’ve woken up naked in people’s front yards. It would be impossible to believe that they’ve really accepted Zayn as a friend if it wasn’t for Harry, constantly crowding Zayn’s space and pulling him into his lap during their little group conversations. It’s not much of a surprise when Harry kisses him during a campfire one night. Zayn would be embarrassed if it wasn’t for the distinct feeling that this isn’t unusual for any of them. He’s seen but never spoken of the way Liam winds himself around Louis sometimes, faces tucked close, or how Harry is more often than not touching one of the others in a way that seems private, fingertips on Niall’s collarbone or a hand wrapped around Liam’s ankle when they’re all sprawled out on their backs in Zayn’s front yard. None of them comment when Harry tucks his thumb against the edge of Zayn’s jaw, kisses him quietly and tastes like smoke and marshmallows but it makes Zayn’s pulse jump, feels like this is something special.

Zayn falls into this type of love pretty quickly, has seen the way they are when they’re wolves, jumping and nipping all over each other and it’s not much different when they’re human. Never comments when he walks in on Louis crowding Harry against the sink in the kitchen, kissing hungrily while Liam looks on from where he’s sat at the table reading the newspaper. The only rule Zayn requests is no come stains on any piece of furniture in his house, please and thank you.

He rolls with it easily after that first kiss with Harry, doesn’t feel bad in the least when he smokes a bowl with Niall and ends up pinned to the floor with the blonde boy over him, mouthing at his neck muttering nonsense about can’t believe Harry got to you first. Niall’s rougher than he looks but Zayn doesn’t mind the bitemarks that start peppering his skin, can tell exactly which ones were from Niall and which were from Liam, Harry doesn’t like leaving marks and Louis loves leaving marks but puts them in places nobody can see, the cut of Zayn’s hips or the inside of his thighs. Zayn has no doubt that the others have them, too, already knows that Louis’s favorite spot on Harry is the soft skin on underside of his arm, crescent nail marks on Niall’s shoulderblades some mornings.

Zayn’s never felt closer to any one person in his life and now he’s got four others, and it makes it that much harder when they all share their wolf stories, when they all exile themselves from the house for that one night a month.

*

“I want it,” Zayn whispers against the notch in Harry’s spine, almost hopes that Harry doesn’t hear him. Knows that with Harry’s hearing, he can probably pick up the way that Zayn’s heart is jackrabbiting against his ribs.

“No, you don’t,” Harry sighs, doesn’t have to ask what Zayn’s talking about. “You really, really don’t, Zayn.”

Zayn doesn’t say anything, just presses open-mouth kisses into Harry’s back and runs his fingers against the scars, cuts he’s gotten running through the woods in his other form that stay through the shift. Can’t understand or imagine what it’s like to suffer in two bodies and the same soul. Zayn notices days where all of them are solidly in their own skin, Louis’s grins aren’t as wolfish and Niall breathes slower, moves like he’s enjoying the slide of his muscles and joints working in tandem. 

“Liam told me it’s like I’m a member of the pack already,” Zayn speaks up a few minutes later, tried his best to let it all go but he can’t, not when the four of them are going to disappear for the night again, leave Zayn to fold their clothes and cook their burgers for when they all get back, nearly naked and starving. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy being the Token Human of the group but. It’s just he moved out here to get away from people, to get closer to nature and it feels like he’s the farthest from it. “If you won’t do it, Louis might.”

Harry stiffens underneath him, flips over onto his back to look at Zayn proper. “Don’t let Louis,” he bristles. “Louis is a good leader but his bedside manner is shit. When we found Liam, Louis told him to buck up, locked him in a bathroom for his first shift, and then left Niall and I to deal with the fallout.”

“Okay. I’ll ask Niall, then.”

That doesn’t seem to ease Harry anymore so Zayn really does drop it, figures he can just bring it up to one of the others later and keep bringing it up until he gets what he wants.

*

Liam’s the clingiest when they come home, he takes the longest to get back to himself because he’s still the newest and when they get in around sunrise he sneaks into Zayn’s room, crawls into bed next to him without a word. When Zayn asks about it, one of the first mornings it happens, a grumbled whatreyadoin, Liam just says that Zayn’s the coldest, helps Liam cool down after the shift. Zayn’s feet are always ice cubes and he has to sleep with a fan on or a window open, partly because he knows the other boys run a few degrees hotter than him and partly because Liam’s practically a human heater, the coldest hours of the morning aren’t that cold when Liam sneaks in, mutters a sleepy hey against the nape of Zayn’s neck before he passes out, sleeps until noon.

*

Zayn doesn’t let them stay in the house when they shift, as soon as he notices Louis’s hand quivering he kicks them into the backyard. They’re not all as controlled as Harry is, for whatever reason Harry’s still himself through the shift. He hates it the most, whenever he’s solidly in his human skin he’s the happiest and he gets the quietest when the full moon comes. Louis loses himself the fastest, he’s all bared teeth and raised hackles which is why they’re not allowed to stay in the house. Zayn assumes it comes with the territory of being the pack leader but Zayn can’t exactly sympathize, not when Louis snapped at him the first time he shifted in the kitchen and Zayn had to single-handedly herd the wolf into the bathroom with a broom.

Niall slides easiest into it, settles into a space that’s still Niall but at his rawest form. Just as trusting, eager, is always the first one to bound around the other three once they’ve all shifted.

Liam’s the weariest of all of them, still muddled by the animal side and usually sidles close to Louis, growls uncertainly at the back of his throat whenever Zayn gets too close or speaks too loud.

And the more he watches them the more Zayn wants to know what it really is, what makes each of them react so differently. Wants to be a part of it so badly it aches when the full moon comes and they leave for the night.

And some mornings if he’s awake, Zayn leaves the backdoor open, sleeps on the couch and lets the others stalk inside one by one. They press close to Zayn, know his smell and the house enough that by dawn he’s got four wolves piled around him the couch. Niall says Zayn helps them get back to themselves easier and Zayn believes him. Understands the meaning behind every time Liam presses a hand to the small of Zayn’s back as a quiet hello, how Niall noses through Zayn’s hair when they’re watching a movie on the couch. Louis pinching the skin of Zayn’s hip and Harry burying his face in the back of Zayn’s neck, crowding him against the counter in the mornings reaching for a mug.

*

Louis’s only rule for Zayn is that he doesn’t follow them during their shifts but he usually watches from the back porch while the four of them strip down to their underwear, wait for the shock of it to come. Niall’s shift almost always comes first, will slink over to Zayn afterwards and lick at his palms before the four of them go off into the woods. So Zayn doesn’t even notice it when it happens, reaching for Niall’s neck like he does all the time, doesn’t think twice about it. Doesn’t register anything but yelling when Niall’s mouth clamps around his wrist, Louis grabbing Niall by the scruff of his neck, pushing him to the floor immediately and Harry’s hands on Zayn, red against his white shirt. Louis’s voice sounding like a snarl over everything else. Eyes more gold than blue, looks primal. Puncture wounds from Niall’s teeth being doused in antiseptic, Louis wrapping Zayn’s hand tight and explaining frantic, rushed, don’t leave the house tonight, Zayn, okay, we’ve gotta go but we’ll be back first thing in the morning, just go to sleep--and then he stiffens, shudders hard and barely makes it out of the back door before he shifts.

 Niall doesn’t speak to Zayn for a week after it happens but Zayn insists he feels fine, it was his fault in the first place for trying to touch Niall so soon after he had shifted, when he wasn’t in the right brain quite yet.

It's over dinner one night when Louis reaches across Zayn for the salt, wrinkles his nose and looks over at Liam.

"What?" Zayn demands, glares hard at Louis because they all have terrible poker faces when they're silently talking about Zayn.

"You smell like wolf, man," Louis replies after a beat of silence.

Zayn raises his eyebrows, looks down at his hand. It wasn't as bad of a bite as it first looked, the point of Nialls canines piercing the skin between his thumb and wrist and it's almost healed. It just aches, some nights, nights when he’s alone in his room without the other four around him. He hasn't told any of them about the dull pain up his arm because he doesn't need them to worry. Figures Niall just bit hard enough to fuck up one of his muscles or something.

"You do, Zayn," Liam adds softly, reaches a pinky over and pokes at the bandaid on Zayns wrist. "I noticed it a few days ago. Didn't want to say anything."

Zayn just shrugs, keeps his head bowed and his excitement buried but he knows all four of them can hear his heartbeat pick up.

*

Zayn forces Niall to move over in bed that night, presses his face into Nialls neck. "Can you stop avoiding me?"

Niall shifts, exhales sharply as soon as Zayn touches him. "I'm sorry for biting you."

The sentence itself sounds ridiculous, the whole situation is ridiculous. "you weren't yourself," Zayn shrugs. "My fault. Besides, if you hadn't done it, I might have gotten Liam drunk and forced him to change me, anyway. It's not like I didn't want this, Niall."

There's another sigh and then Nialls rolling to face him. "you smell like a puppy," Niall laughs finally, pokes a finger into Zayn’s sternum. "It feels like I'm, like, personally responsible for whatever happens to you. Must be how Louis feels with all of us."

“I mean, to be fair,” Zayn mutters with an eyeroll, scrubs his knuckles across Niall’s hair, “I feel that way with all of you, too.”

*

Louis gives him a rundown of what's going to happen, a week before the full moon and Zayn can't bear being left alone. Clings to Harry in the mornings because he's always the first one awake and wastes afternoons pressed against Niall on the couch, napping while Niall mashes away on the playstation controller. Sleeps with Liam every night because he’s warmest, feels the most solid when Zayn thinks he’s going to fall apart at the seams. Stays up late smoking with Louis, ignoring the way that the alpha stares hard at Zayn’s profile when he thinks Zayn’s not looking. His eyes are more gold than brown now and he knows each boy by their smell, moreso than before, but that’s it. There’s no sudden urges to howl at the moon or run naked into the woods and he thinks that’s partly because he’s part of a pack already. Doesn’t have to waste the time searching for one when this is going to happen.

*

He's not expecting it to be that bad, despite what Louis tells him. He's watched each of them slide into wolves for months, now. Niall makes it look easy.

He can tell Louis is holding back, the other three already shaking into their fur in the backyard but Louis is still human next to Zayn on the porch. They've been chainsmoking through Zayns cigarettes for a hour, every time Zayn's fingers spasm they both freeze.

"you can go, Louis," Zayn mumbles when he notices Louis's leg jumping, should have shifted half an hour ago but he's determined to stay here in case something goes wrong with Zayn. "I don't feel like anythings going to happen."

Louis's jaw twitches, mouth pulling into a tiny smirk but he doesn't say anything, just keeps staring out over the trees where the moon is still rising from the dim edges of the sky.

Niall lets out a soft, worried whimper from the yard and then it happens before Zayn can process it, a fire starting in his fingertips and licking to his chest. He doesn't remember screaming but there's some noise that he can register, something caught between a snarl and a sob. Feels so hot that it's almost cold, numb all over but it hurts, anyway, like getting a cavity filled. And then there's hands on him, feels like ice on the places his skin is hottest, opens his eyes to a figure holding his mouth shut, pinning him to to deck. A growl rips from his throat before he can stop it, flails wildly in an attempt to free himself from the man holding him and then the man says "Zayn," harsh and powerful enough that Zayn can feel himself go still, lets it all come back to him. Looks up to blue and gold-speckled eyes and stops growling. Louis Louis Louis and this instinct of trust, lays down pliant and quiet and waits for Louis to fall out of his own skin. Turns into something familiar and raw when he drops to all fours and shakes out his coat. Noses at Zayns face, get up.

Nialls bounding forward first, licking at Zayns muzzle and giving him a grin with his lolling tongue, nips at his ears and Harry and Liam are trotting forward, too, pressing themselves close with warm congratulations. Louis standing tall in front of them, ears pricked forward curiously and then he drops into a deep bow, wags his tail and Zayn can almost hear his voice, come on, then, Malik. Louis pounces forward, bites at Zayn’s ears and then darts off into the woods, and Zayn’s the first to follow.