Rougarou Boyfriend: Faustin (complete)

You should have trusted that death rattle you heard a state or two back, but no, you were determined to get home fast. You should have trusted that old guy at the last gas station you stopped at, he knew what he was talking about. But no! You wanted to get home at a record pace. 

Now you’re probably going to be a week late - or that’s what the mechanic says. As you stand in that tiny, grease-soaked garage, you count down all the car-based mistakes you’ve made in your life. This one takes the cake. The mechanic points you in the direction of a motel you can stay at that had reasonable prices. Only thing is, the prices aren’t reasonable, they’re suspect. As you soon learn, the motel’s rooms are the stuff of retro porn flicks. The walls have gaudy patterned wallpaper, stained and peeling in spots. The carpet is red, and not the good lipstick variety, but the bad Flamin’ Hot Cheetos dust kind. Then there’s the bed. You decide to leave the covers tucked, and go to the nearest store to buy a cheap throw blanket and pillow. 

You leave your room before the sun even comes up, unable to listen to the guy next door talking loudly on his phone in the bathroom any longer. You go to an all-day diner within walking distance and plop down in a booth. It’s mostly old folks there, enjoying their breakfast and each other’s company. 

“What can I get you?” the waiter asks as he sidles up to your table.

“How much is too much coffee?” you grumble.

“Coffee is free with the order of a full meal, refills included,” he replies. “I would recommend the endless hash browns, and you also get free bacon with that.”

You glance up at your waiter, shocked he isn’t some poor high school kid. He’s a tall, rather strapping man with wild red hair and bright gray eyes. You’re stunned for a moment, unprepared for any human interaction, let alone one with a super-hot stranger.

“Yeah, that’s good.” you say.

He smiles at you. “Great. I’ll get the order in right away and bring you your coffee.” He jots it down on the order pad before walking away.

“Wow, they grow ‘em big around here,” you murmur to yourself as you watch his retreating back. 

You feel the hair on the back of your neck start to prickle, and you get the sense you’re being watched yourself. You look up from the red formica table, glancing about the diner until your eyes come to rest on a man in the back. He’s tall and gangly compared to the waiter, all dark-complexioned and with pitch-black hair. His eyes are a bewitching blue, and they dart away as soon as you look at him. As he turns his head, you notice scars extending along the side of his neck. You stare, not because of the scars, but because of how familiar he looks.

“Here’s your coffee,” the waiter says. 

You jump up from your thoughts and nod. “Oh yeah, thank you.”

The waiter lingers. “You look new,” he replies. “Visiting?”

“Not really,” you grumble. “My car broke down, so I’m staying at the motel across the way. It’s awful.”

“No kidding,” he chuckles. “How long are you in for?”

You shrug, then take a long drink of coffee. “They had to order a part, so I’m hoping by the end of the week I can head on home.”

“Well, best of luck to you.” the waiter says before he walks away.

“Another attack,” an old man grumbles at his newspaper. “Girl claims someone was trying to grab her in the strip mall parking lot. Something like a wild animal got the guy.”

“It’s the rougarou,” his wife replies.

The husband scoffs. “You’ll believe anything.”

“It happened when I was a girl! I saw it with my own eyes,” she snaps at him. “The rougarou have been here longer than any of us.”

You’ve never heard of such a thing. You take out your phone to search for the term, but as you hit the ‘open’ button the waiter returns with your food at the ready. 

That night isn’t so bad. The couple has checked out, and the guy who ‘lives’ there is gone for the evening. Everything is quiet, so you’re able to lay down and relax.

As you settle in you hear a car door shut, so you figure the resident guy must be back. You’re just about to go to sleep when you hear your doorknob rattle. You sit up as the door cracks open. You knew you locked it - how is this happening?!

“Hey,” you snap. “Get out!” 

Someone walks in and closes the door behind them.

You’ve gone completely cold, and you can’t breathe. You start to stand up, but the intruder rushes at you. There’s a struggle that feels like forever, and then you’re being pushed down with your hands held behind your back. You scream, but there is no one in the motel to hear you. Just as you feel the rough hands start to rip away your underwear, they’re gone.

You sit up like a shot, watching as some massive creature bears down on your attacker. You hear screams as your vision shrinks to a pinpoint, then darkness.

You wake to the low hum and squeak of a ceiling fan. Opening your eyes, you see the off-kilter fan spinning above you. It makes a nice breeze in the warm room. You take in your new surroundings - an unfamiliar, dark room. You don’t remember what happened after the attack; you passed out when you saw that creature.

“Are you alright?”

You nearly leave your body as the dark voice speaks up. “Who’s there?” you cry out in a panic.

“Calm down, you’re safe,” he coaxes. You twist back and forth, trying to find the source of the voice. “I couldn’t let you stay in that motel. It was too dangerous.”

“Who are you?” you gasp.

A man steps forward and opens the blinds of the window, letting in the gray light of morning. “Name’s Faustin,” he replies. He places a knife on the edge of the bed. “You can have that.”

You stare at the knife, then Faustin. “For what?”

Faustin pulls up a chair and sits down. “For if you still don’t trust me.” He looks at you with striking blue eyes.

“I… I know you,” you whisper. “At the diner-”

“Shouldn’t have told that waiter anything,” he cuts you off. “Don’t let appearances deceive you.” 

“So he-” your voice chokes up and you hold your head in your hands.

“It’s okay,” Faustin says in a gentle voice. “You’re safe here, I promise. I just need to know if he hurt you in any way.”

“I don’t think so,” you whimper.

Faustin sighs. “I’m going to go make breakfast. Are you hungry?”

You look back at him, your vision blurry with tears. “What?” 

Faustin stands up. “If you need me, just shout. The kitchen is right outside the door.” He glances you over again. You notice he’s freshly washed. His hair is still dripping and his white shirt has water on it. 

“You brought me here?” you hiccup. “Did you-” You remember the shape of the shadow in the doorway, hulking, hairy, and terrifying. “Did you save me?”

Faustin is oddly quiet. “I usually make a croque monsieur on Wednesdays, is that okay?”

“Uh-” you grunt. 

Faustin leaves the room while you’re still bewildered and confused. You can’t piece together all your memories from last night; the terror you suffered has left everything fragmented and weird. Not to mention that Faustin still gives you this nagging feeling that you recognize him.

You stand up and walk to the door, peeking through the crack to watch Faustin as he cooks. In the light, he looks less ominous than he did in the diner. He’s covered in dark body hair as well as scars - tons of scars down his arms, running in all directions. His long hair is tied back, but loose strands fall out around his face.

“Are you going to just stare?” he asks.

You jump, but open the door a bit more. “Sorry. I-”

Faustin tucks his hair behind his ear. “It’s been a while since the Hollow, hasn’t it?”

You open your mouth to question him, but as it hits you your jaw opens wider. You cup your hand over your gaping mouth and point.

“In a million years, I never thought you’d end up in the backwoods of Louisiana,” he says cooly. He looks over the food he’s making. “I thought I’d seen the last of you ages ago.”

Ages ago, back when you were young, Faustin went to your school. He was the foster child of Mrs. Locklear. He hung around with Jack and got into some trouble, so Mrs. Locklear had him sent away. You once got lost in the woods, and it was Faustin who led you out. He was brooding and scary, but you had been attracted to him all the same. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper.

Faustin smirks. “Remember me now?”

You lean against the doorframe. “I feel sick.”

Faustin leaves the stove and comes over to you. He puts his arm around you and leads you to a small table, where he sits you down “I’ll get you some water.” He rubs your shoulders. “It’s okay.” He quickly dashes to the decrepit fridge and returns with a bottle of water. 

After a few sips, you start to feel less woozy. All the stress is catching up to you and turning your guts to jelly.

“You okay?” Faustin asks.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” you whisper. “Someone from back home like this.” You look up at him. “It’s been so long.”

Faustin’s smile is gentle, and you can see where a scar cuts across his mouth. “Not every day that your first kiss reappears.”

“You-” you start to sputter. “You weren’t my first.”

Faustin goes back to the oven. “No. But you were mine.”

Your cheeks burn like coals. “So I wasn’t seeing things… You really were a…” You frown for a moment. “The lady in the diner called you a Rougarou.”

“Part of why I never really fit in at Hearthway Hollow, no matter what Winona said to me.” He places the food in the oven and then takes the seat across from you at the table. “Are you okay?” he asks again.

You huff out a breath and sag in your seat. “I was so scared,” you whisper. “I still feel like-” You clutch your head in your hands. “It’s like something is breathing down my neck.”

Faustin pets the top of your head. “I’m here, it’s okay. He’s not the first piece of shit I’ve put in his place.”

You sniffle and rub your tears away. “What are you? Some kind of hairy Batman?”

Faustin smiles and you can see one of his fangs is chipped. “Just hairy. Nothing Batman about me, except my fur is black.” He smooths his thumb under your eye. “I just want to make people feel safe.”

You smile softly at him. “You got big,” you chuckle, wanting to change the subject. “You used to look like a mop with black hair.”

Faustin grimaces. “Hey, now,” he snarls.

You giggle unsurely. “It wasn’t bad. Neither is this.”

Faustin scoffs. “Good to see those braces did some good.” He taps your cheek with a flick of his finger. He then turns his head to the stove and sniffs. “Food is ready.” He goes to take it out, then plates it. “Hungry?” He lays a plate down before you, and the croque monsieur on it looks amazing. The cheese on top is melty, golden, and a touch crispy. The ham that sticks out the sides has curled up from the heat and is still sizzling. 

“Maybe just a bite,” you say. But once you start to eat, you find it hard to stop. Faustin’s cooking is the best thing you’ve put in your mouth since you left home for school.

“Slow down,” Faustin chuckles. “You’ll make yourself sick again.”

“It’s just really good,” you murmur. “Are you a chef or something?”

Faustin shrugs. “Something,” he grumbles. “I’ve been moving since I left Hearthway Hollow. I only stayed in Louisiana so long because I was born here.”

“Then why not come back to Hearthway Hollow?” you ask.

Faustin glances at you, then back at his food. “I couldn’t. I don’t belong there,” he grumbles. 

“A lot has changed,” you reply. “Adam and the rest, they’d welcome you. I promise.” You smile up at him. “You could come stay with me for a few days, see if you like it. My aunt is letting me have her place while she’s in Europe.”

Faustin mutters something under his breath as your phone rings. You answer it - it’s the mechanic, calling to say that your car has been repaired. You finish the croque monsieurs and leave quickly with Faustin

On the way, you still try to convince him to go with you. “Just a few days,” you plead. “I’d feel better having a travel companion.”

“I just don’t know,” he huffs. “You should get going though.” He shakes his head. “I’ll consider the offer.”

“It was nice to see you again,” you say. You step towards him, intending to just give him a hug goodbye. Instead, you kiss his cheek. He turns his head, and you meet his lips. The kiss is sudden, completely unexpected, but it feels so good. As his arms tighten around you, you feel a rush of desire and comfort.

Faustin quickly pushes you back. “You should go.” His cheeks are bright red. 

“Please... really consider it.” You get into your car and drive home.

Once you’re back, you get settled in your aunt’s place. All the stuff you shipped has been unpacked and put away for you. One evening as you’re lamenting a meal you’ve made, wondering how good Faustin’s cooking would be, there is a knock at the door.

When you open it, standing there is a tall, dark figure who makes your heart go wild. “Faustin,” you gasp.

“Can I come in?” he asks unsurely.

You tug his hand into the room and wrap your arms around him. “I’m so glad you came!” you giggle excitedly. 

Faustin puts his hands around your waist. “I wanted to see you again. It was like this gnawing thing in the back of my mind.”

“Me, too.” You stand on your tiptoes to kiss him. It was supposed to be a soft, friendly thing, but it grows deeper, hotter. Soon, Faustin’s fingers are digging into your hips, your hands are under his shirt, and the two of you are stumbling to keep your balance.

Faustin lifts you up onto the kitchen island and leans over you. He thrusts himself between your thighs as his strong hands slip under your shirt. His body is shifting, changing. The dark hair spreads over him until he is a massive, black beast standing over you. He looks like a werewolf, only slightly bigger, with longer arms and torso. He breathes hard as those piercing blue eyes gaze down at you.

“If we do this, I’ll never leave,” he snarls. He lifts your hips to take off your shorts. “You’re stuck with me.”

You bite your lip as you smile. “I don’t mind.” You let out a moan as his dangerous fingers rub your mound. “I’ve been waiting for this since high school.”

Faustin takes in a deep breath. “You’re so wet already.” He slips one finger inside you, careful that his sharp claw doesn’t hurt you. “Hold on.” He kneels down between your legs so only the top of his head and ears can be seen. You moan as his tongue laps at you, and it pushes inside while his finger slowly rubs your clit. You gasp and cry out, shivering as his long, black tongue coaxes gentle waves through your body, which crescendo into a crashing tide.

Faustin chuckles darkly, licking his chops as he rises back to his full height. “I’m glad we found one another again.” He places his body over top of yours as his cock rubs against your folds. “I regret never telling you how I felt as a boy.”

You place your arms around his back. “Tell me now,” you moan. “Please.”

Faustin licks your cheek, then nuzzles into the curve of your neck. He slowly guides himself into place and eases himself inside, stretching your inner walls so that you can feel him throbbing. He grinds into you for a moment as his breath catches in his throat. His moans turn into growls that send shivers down your spine. You lock your legs around his waist as he starts to move. He bucks recklessly at first before finding a rhythm that goes deep inside you.

The cold marble of the counter top becomes searing hot soon. You cry out and gasp as Fuastin rocks you. You can feel the knot at the base of his cock pressing for entrance, each thrust bringing it closer and closer, until eventually it pops into place. You cry out and bite into Faustin’s shoulder to keep your screams in check. You pulse around him, gripping him tightly as your inner walls convulse.

Faustin throws his head back, howling out loud with his release. His heat penetrates you, filling you to the brim until it starts to dribble out along your thighs. The marble begins to cool again as you and Faustin lay there, breathing hard.

“My bed is upstairs,” you giggle.

“I can’t feel my legs,” he snarls. He lifts his head and smirks at you. “You’ve drained me of everything.” He drags you down onto the floor with him, where your curl up on his fluffy chest. You can hear his heart beating madly as you rest your cheek there.

“So it’s alright if I stay?” he whispers.

“I want you to.” you murmur. “If you’re my mate, who can say no?” You close your eyes. “Besides, you’ve always belonged here, Faustin. You just had to figure it out for yourself, I think.”

Faustin sighs a heavy breath. “I’ll cook for you every day,” he whispers.

You kiss him. “I’d like that. I suck at it.” You then lay back down on his chest. “I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

His strong hand rubs up and down your back. “I’ll always keep you safe. I promise too.”