KinnPorsche Shifter AU Drabble
This sparked into my head after seeing @moerusai werewolf edit. It turned into a shifter fic rather than werewolf fic, but I still wanted to give credit to where my inspiration came from. I've linked the post at the end.
The woman in the corner of the room was gorgeous and clearly interested, and so Porsche had been sorely tempted to approach her. There was an uncomfortable itch that had buried itself into the muscles of his shoulders that, over the course of his shift, stretched unbearably down his spine. Any distraction would be welcomed with open arms, but Porsche knew that it wouldn’t do a damn thing, no matter how enjoyable the sex would be.
Instead he waved off Boss, who was practically perched on his shoulder, ogling the woman making eyes at Porsche.
“Careful, your drooling.” Porsche said with a smirk. Boss quickly pulled away, his cheeks flushing in the low light as he wiped the corners of his mouth. Porsche let out a light laugh as he threw a towel at Boss’s head.
“I’m going to take my break. Don’t let anyone go outside.” Porsche cautioned as he pointed a stern finger at the younger man’s face. Boss’s eyes lit up, and Porsche had to smother a groan at the man’s excitement.
“Wait! Are you, gonna, ya know…?” He looked around the bar for any obvious eavesdroppers. “…shift?”
“Boss, come on man, don’t make it weird.” Porsche said, his face slightly pinched. “You’ve seen me shift before, its not that big a deal.”
The glint in Boss’s eyes faded quickly, his hands fumbling with the towel Porsche had chucked at him.
“Sorry, I just… yeah, sorry man.” Boss apologised, his shoulders caving in around his form. Porsche let out a gust of breath, before shooting the man a sympathetic smile. Porsche found it a little weird when people got starry eyed about people shifting. It was like they were imagining themselves in a trashy romance novel, and the shifter had become the sudden, and unexpected, love interest.
But at least it was marginally better than distain. It was worse in the past, especially in the time of his grandparents, where Humans views would swing violently in their extremes. In one moment the Public’s opinion would be: ‘Shifter’s are the descendant’s of God’s’, and in another it would change to: ‘Shifter’s are a cursed race, a bane to humanity’, and back again just as sharply.
Shifters didn’t really care either way, they just wanted to live their lives with as little trouble as possible.
“It’s fine. I just don’t want to scare the shit out of someone. Again.” Porsche said as he and Boss shared a grin. It wasn’t Porsche’s fault that the new guy tried to take his break 10 minutes early last week. The poor guy was so shaken that Yok didn’t have it in her heart to reprimand him.
“Go, go. I’ll hold down the fort.” Boss said, his stance relaxing as he reached for a couple glasses under the counter. Porsche tapped his fingers along the counter as he made his way out of the bar, the itch on his back was starting to turn painful, but it was nothing Porsche couldn’t handle.
With his professional façade still squarely in place, he made his way through the clustered dancing throng where the smell of sweat, alcohol and hormones clogged up his nose. The pain suddenly took a sharp edge, like a thousand small prodding pin’s, somewhere near his shoulder blades.
Porsche burst out of the fire exit and gulped down breaths of air. The alleyway behind Hum’s bar wasn’t clean by any means, but it was a hell of a lot better than it was inside. The air was tainted by the ventilation of the buildings surrounding him, but he could faintly smell the familiar scent of the riverside in the air.
Around the corner, not far from where Porsche preferred to ‘entertain’ any of the ladies and gentlemen that caught his eye, were a few loose bricks lodged in the wall. Using his fingertips, Porsche pulled three out to reveal a small, snug hole. Porsche quickly undressed himself: Shoes, sock, shirt, trousers and underwear. With practised ease, he placed them inside of the hole and balanced his cigarettes and lighter on top of the bundle.
Crouching, completely naked, he slid the bricks back into place. Hiding his clothes like this was a little over kill, Porsche would easily admit, but some spiteful dicks found it hilarious to take off with a shifters clothes. And, well, there wasn’t anything illegal about a shifter going out and about in public in full shift, but it made people nervous.
Plus, trying to get on a packed train as a creature that was twice your normal size was just a pain in the ass.
Porsche stood up and stretched, his hands reaching up to the sky, and closed his eyes and shifted. It was hard to describe what shifting felt like to a human, it wasn’t a sensation that they could easily translated.
Imagine, if you will, that, for some reason, your elbow had made a grinding, crackling sound every time you moved it. It isn’t painful, just uncomfortable, and all day you’ve been stretching it out in various ways. And then it finally crack’s, giving off a much needed rush of relief alongside a slight pinch of pain. That’s what it feels like.
But instead of just your elbow, it was every joint in your body.
The persistent pain in his back took a backseat as he let the shift envelope him fully. His coat of fur tingled for a moment as it came in. It reminded Porsche of new hair growing in after a shave with a razor, sharp and itchy. He felt his chest rumble in glee as his coat warmed him, the cold night air that had felt sharp on his human skin suddenly softened into a pleasingly cool breeze that ruffled through his fur.
The senses were the last to change, and shifting into his form wasn’t so bad; the colours faded away until only dull blues, yellows and greys remained. The alleyway around him had been pitch black, but now he could see down to the end of the wall, the cracks up the bricks and the birds roosting in the gutters.
Smells were a little overwhelming to begin with; sounds too. But Porsche just shook his head, his ears flapping with the movement, as he allowed himself time to adjust. Standing there, now on all fours, he listened keenly to his surroundings.
He could hear the Hum Bar’s music play, muted by the walls only slightly. The vibrations from the bass danced under his paw’s. The sound of traffic rode on the winds throughout the alleyway, and a few scampering paws to his right where desperate rodents hid for their life. He could faintly hear the sound of the river, but he could smell it better than he could hear it.
But he couldn’t hear of anyone around him. No voices, no scuffed footsteps, no laughter.
Porsche walked out from his hiding spot, but with his dark fur, his panther form made him look like a shadow come to life. The only thing a human would be able to spot in this dim light, were his sharp, golden eyes.
Porsche reached out his front limbs, claws out, and leisurely stretched out his back, his tail curling high behind him. His chest reached the floor with ease, as his spine curved up gracefully. Rising up on his forelegs he leant forward, and stretched his back legs as he tilted his head up.
His father used to fondly say: ‘All cats, big or small, have yoga tied to their genes’ every time he watched Porsche’s customary stretch after shifting.
Porsche slowly came to a suspiciously placed crate, he batted the corner of it playfully, testing its sturdiness. The circumstance’s that lead to Yok discovering his shifting capabilities hadn’t been the most… graceful.
The important lessons he learned that night were as followed:
1. Don’t drink and climb. Even with improved dark vision, that ledge is further away than you think.
2. He can’t land on his paws for shit when he’s drunk.
3. Alcohol does in fact transfer into your shifted form.
Yok had handled the fact that she almost got squished by a 300 pound animal remarkably well. But since that day a stack of sturdy crates, reinforced by metal bases screwed to the floor, were pressed up against the bar wall. Making a large, Lego looking stairway to the building’s outcrop. It was a little roof that covered up a small section of alleyway where the staff would go for a smoke.
It could hold his weight easily, and Porsche had idly wondered if Yok had the support beams checked as well, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. With little effort Porsche jumped on top of the meter high crates, climbing higher until he reached his perch.
Porsche walked leisurely over the roof, his movement’s smooth and slow. He settled down on to his stomach, paws tucked under his body, as he lay near the edge of the roof. Porchay liked to call this pose ‘loafing,’ something he had picked up from the internet no doubt. Porsche preferred tree’s, as was his natural tendency, and letting his long legs dangle either side of the branch.
But ‘loafing’ works well in a pinch.
Thinking about his younger brother made that pain in his shoulders grow again. The uncomfortable ache was more manageable in this form for some reason, but it was still there, lingering. Porsche knew it’s cause. A shifters mind and body were closely intertwined, more so than a Human’s. Human’s can get sick from stress, and they can get stressed from sickness. Shifter’s weren’t so different, but the stress manifested as pain rather than illness. It was something that both form’s could take equally.
Porchay would be heading off to University soon and Porsche couldn’t be more proud even if he tried. His friends were probably sick to death of him talking about his brother, but Porsche didn’t care. People needed to know how well Chay had done, he more than deserved his dues. Their childhood hadn’t been easy, far from it, but his little brother had beaten the odds. He had made it.
But as they were chatting the other night, Chay full of excited nerves and Porsche practically dancing around in glee, Chay revealed he had wanted to travel after Uni. Wanted to see the world a bit more, see all it had to offer. Porsche’s demeanour soured slightly as Chay went on. Chay going to Uni was one thing, but leaving their home? Leaving Thailand?
It hadn’t even crossed his mind that Chay would leave. He knew that Porchay may leave one day, but not so soon. Not now all the debts had been cleared and they where finally free of their Uncle’s bullshit.
Porsche had swallowed down the lump in his throat and took a subtle step back. He couldn’t control his reaction, or scent, and he hadn’t wanted Chay to catch on.
“You’ve never mentioned wanting to travel before, what’s bought this on?” Porsche had asked, his voice light and un-accusing. He didn’t want Chay to doubt his wants, but Porsche couldn’t help but be curious about the change.
Oddly, Chay’s cheeks flushed. “It’s just something I read somewhere. They said that if you want to write good music, you have to write what you know. An-And that, to experience more is to know more.”
Porsche ran through his brothers speech with a thoughtful frown.
“Wise words.” Porsche conceded, though he had no clue at all about how to make music. Porchay lit up at his brothers words, his cheeks still adorably flushed as he shot Porsche a toothy, earnest grin.
“Right? He sai– I mean, they said that’s what music is. Sharing your thoughts, your life, with a melody and a lyric. But you have to live that life first.”
Porsche caught his brothers slip, but he was still reeling from the fact Porchay was planning to travel in a couple of years. On his own.
Sure, Chay was a shifter like him, the danger he could encounter would be manageable. But to Porsche, he was still a little cub struggling with his big paws, walking with a stomp and muzzle twisted in adorable concentration.
So, Porsche now lay here, on a roof in the middle of the club district, and huffed morosely. Chay would be fine, but would Porsche? It was selfish, yes, but all his life it was Chay.
Protecting him, teaching him, growing with him.
Porsche pulled his paws from under his body, and tucked them underneath his chin. Panthers weren’t social creatures, but humans were. And that was what a shifter was, a being caught between two forms. And there were aspects of his panther self that manifest in his human form. His tendency to gravitate towards high places was one of his more notable quirks.
But it happened in reverse as well, his human need for people, for family, carried over to his four legged self. It meant he loved to spend his time curled around his people, making sure they were happy. That they were safe.
And one of the pillars, if not the pillar, of his family structure wanted to leave. Porsche’s tail wrapped around his body, the tip of his tail just barely reaching his face. Closing his eyes, he felt like he was in a private bubble as his silhouette became indistinguishable from his surroundings.
He’d let himself have this moment. Soon, he’d shift back and get on with the night. Then he’d go home to Chay and start planning out the young man’s possible ‘After Uni’ journey, with all the enthusiasm it deserves. But for now, he would just enjoy the quiet of the city’s night.
Porsche was only into 15 minutes of his break when he heard the rapid footfalls of humans coming his way. He was reluctant to bring himself out of this peaceful trance he had found himself in, so he didn’t move. Shrouded in darkness and high above their eye line, they probably wouldn’t even notice him, which is slightly ironic considering his size.
The footsteps got louder, they were a rush of frantic sprinting, and Porsche could now hear them shouting at each other. Swearing and stumbling, a box fell off somewhere down the warren that were the back alleys. Clattering and clambering, the humans got closer.
Porsche flicked an un-interested ear.
The men spilled out of one of the alleyways and spread out. Porsche relented, now slightly curious, and opened his eyes to peer down at the showdown in front of him. A man, with a head full of thick hair and a stylish dark suit stood closer to Hum Bar’s entrance. The men after him weren’t so fashionably inclined, but they held out knives and machetes. One even had a gun.
That caught Porsche’s attention. His head perked up, eyes still narrowed to avoid his bright yellow iris’s being spotted. Porsche wasn’t territorial over his space, not like other shifters could be. But he did have a tendency to be territorial over people. If Porsche knew no one he loved wasn’t in the club right now, the urge to protect wouldn’t be there.
But, Yok was in there. Boss was in there. Jom said he’d pop round sometime tonight.
So as the man in the suit crept closer to the fire exit of Hum bar, and the armed men surrounding him did the same, Porsche’s hackles began to rise. Swiftly and silently, he leapt down from the roof the long way around. Out of sight, and clearly focused on the tense stand off, no one saw him.
Porsche crept around the back of the armed men, before stepping out of the shadows towards them. The soft fur between the pads of his paw’s made his approach silent. Well, silent to a Human, but even a shifter would have a hard time hearing him.
With his head down low, he prowled forward. He could only see the back of the goon’s heads, the only face he could see belonged to that of man in the smart jacket. And he knew the very second the man caught sight of him.
His face went from ‘Fuck’ to ‘Oh. FUCK.’ in a blink. His thick eyebrows that had scrunched together in frustration suddenly flew up his forehead as his eyes rounded in shock. The man’s pale complexion only paled further, his lips a sickly peach hue, as his breath visibly stuttered in his chest.
The man with the gun, who stood in the middle of the gang, cackled with glee as he waved the gun carelessly about.
“Oh, is isn’t this beautiful boys? His highness is shitting himself.” The man jeered, as his crew laughed with him, suddenly high on the man’s fear. But the man didn’t take his eye’s off of Porsche, not even when the man levelled the gun at his head.
He knew who the real threat was here.
Porsche switched focus, eyes narrowing in on the man with the gun. Porsche sunk lower to the ground, as his claws appeared out of their sheaths. His breath slowed as he crept closer, ears flickering to catch the men’s cackles of the wall’s and dismiss them in kind.
Sitting back on his haunches, his shoulders wiggling to distribute his weight, he pounced.
Well, pounced was putting lightly. Porsche, in this form, stood at 5ft from shoulder to paw and 12ft from nose to tail. It was less of a ‘pounce’ and more of a ‘launch.’
He crashed into the oblivious man, a growl ripping from his throat as his claws sunk into the man’s back. The man let out a short scream before he slammed to the floor, his breath coming in struggling drags as Porsche put his full weight onto his front paws.
Ears back and fang’s flashing, he swiped a large paw to the crony next to him. The man stood there in shock, his knife still pointlessly aimed towards the suited man. Porsche caught his chest, the muscle in his shoulder rippling under his midnight fur. The man went flying across the floor, landing next to the wall in an anguished cry.
The other’s scrambled back, stumbling and falling as desperate curse’s left their mouths. Porsche turned on them and let out a roar that rattled his chest. His ears were flat, his mouth wide open and his tail swishing from side to side. As a warning, he lunged forward with two powerful swats of his paws.
The uninjured men stood in a semi circle around him on wobbly legs. One of them knelt down, eye’s never moving from Porsche’s form, to crouch by the injured man crumpled over by the wall. A fumbling hand twisting tight into the back of his jacket.
In front of Porsche was gun owner, though said gun had scattered off to the wayside. He was unconscious but alive, his shirt streaked with rips and tainted in blood.
A tense stalemate was drawn. Like a statue, Porsche held his ground with his head level to his shoulders, making his his whole back flat and streamlined. The only outwardly sign of agitation was the subtle, quick flicking of his tail.
Golden eyes twitched from one man, to another and then another, ready for any sign of movement.
With a yell of desperation a man to his right burst forward, his knife at the ready. Porsche whipped around, ready to take the man on but had to quickly scramble back as the man chucked his knife at him. It was a clumsy throw but he was close enough that it couldn’t really miss.
The knife caught the tip of his shoulder blade, but in this form it was as painful as paper cut. He let out a quiet t hiss at the sting. The man’s daring move allowed him to grab his unconscious cohorts arm, and, with adrenaline boosted strength, dragged him roughly across the ground.
Porsche quickly took back his ground, his feral yowl echoing against the walls. The men around him stank of fear, and also faintly of piss.
With a deep, threatening rumble that rose and fell with every breath, Porsche stalked forward. The men, not liking their chance’s, legged it down the multiple alleyways like rats in a sewer. They left with shouts and cut off swears, and Porsche listened intently as their scrambling feet grew fainter and fainter and the sounds of the city were all that could be heard.
Porsche let his shoulder’s sink down as the taught tension eased from his body. Raising his head he shook his body, from tip to tail, as a quick release of his pent up energy lingering in his muscles. Feeling remarkably better, Porsche suddenly heard soft steps behind him.
Porsche looked behind him and watched the man still under his piercing eyes. The man, who Porsche decided to nickname ‘Suit’s’, tried to shuffle around him, keeping close to the walls at hand. Porsche dragged his gaze from him to follow the man’s planned path. The abandoned gun lay a few strides away.
Shaking his head, Porsche made his way over to the weapon. To Suit’s credit he showed no outward sign of annoyance, but his eyelids did twitch in an amusing way. Porsche turned to head the man head on, and slowly raised his back right leg. With a slow quirk of the head and a panther’s version of a grin, Porsche placed his paw down on the weapon and kicked it backwards.
The weapon skidded across the floor once again until it hit the garbage container with a bang. Porsche plodded his ass down and sat in-between Suit’s and the gun, his long tail curling around him as he watched the man in amusement.
“Look.” The dishevelled man said, his palm’s open in caution. “Those men could come back any moment. I need that gun.”
Porsche held eye contact with the man before letting out a eye watering yawn. The man’s annoyance seemed to overwhelmed his caution as he shot the panther a glare. Porsche huffed out a rumble of a laugh, the sight of Suit’s thick eyebrows scrunching together wasn’t giving off the menacing aura he probably thought it did.
“Okay, how about a deal?” Suits offered. Porsche made a small noise of interest which made a shark like grin grow over the man’s face. “You protect me, here, until my men come to get me and I won’t go near the gun.”
Porsche gave him a levelled look before rolling his eyes with a huff. The man seemed to take Porsche’s dismissal in stride as he tipped his head to the side and looked the shifter up and down.
“How about payment? 10,000 baht? 20,000 baht? 50,000 baht?” Suits bargained, letting each offer hang in the air as he waited for Porsche to respond.
Porsche looked at the man incredulously. How exactly did he expect to pay him? Porsche wasn’t willing to shift back to swap bank details, this guy was fishy as hell. And seeing as that jacket hugged his form like a second skin, Porsche greatly doubted he had 50,000 baht on hand.
Porsche approached him, his head held high and ears pricked forward. The man tensed up again, his dark eyes glued to Porsche’s curious gaze. Porsche gave the man a sniff, the smell of sweat, fear and gunpowder radiated off of him. His natural scent was massively hidden under these dominating scents.
Porsche gave the man a once over whilst taking note of the posh jacket. Porsche was sure it was some shade of red, but right was now it seemed to be a murky dark green. A ring sat snuggly on the mans long fingers, and Porsche let out a little noise of intrigue. The man quickly curled his hands into a fist as he twisted it out of sight, but Porsche let it go. It was too gaudy for him.
The watch, however, gleaming under the alley’s dim lights, was more up Porsche’s alley. Not in style, but it seemed evidently expensive. Porsche nudged the man’s wrist with his soft nose, and when Suit’s didn’t get with the program, lightly head-butted his arm repeatedly.
Even though Porsche had been careful with his strength, Suit’s still got knocked off balance.
“The watch?” Suits asked, looking at Porsche intensely. Porsche nodded clearly, watching as a flicker of frustration shuttered over the man’s face. The panther was patient though, he could hear nothing but the man’s breath and rapid heart beat’s, so he felt reassured that they were safe for the moment.
The man let out a gruff sigh as he removed his watch and held it out for the him to take. Porsche softly took the accessory with his mouth. The mans arm twitched as his muzzle lightly brushed on his hand, but he stuck it out.
It took ball’s to have a hand so close to a strangers fangs.
Porsche stepped back, wanting to give Suits some space. The man’s breathing had begun to pick up, and it would look bad on Porsche if his ‘men’ came to get him only to find a 5ft shifter standing over his unconscious body.
The taste of the watch was disgusting on his tongue, the metal tang in his mouth grew as he carried it away. With a low, “bleugh” Porsche dropped it onto the floor.
“Do you even know how much that costs?” Suits asked as he sat down on a crate nearby. He leant against the wall with his hands tucked into his pockets and watched the shifter with a sneer.
Feeling petty, Porsche made sure to catch Suit’s eye before tapping the watch across the floor. The mans eye twitched.
Glee growing, Porsche hit the watch back to his other paw. And back again. Suit’s looked away, jaw tense and lips curled into a thin, tight line. Porsche continued with his playing, the sound of the watch rattling across the floor seemed loud in the city’s silence.
“Would you stop that?!” The man sniped. Porsche let out a huff of amusement, before reaching for the watch with his teeth. Secure in his jaw, he made his way back to his crate stairs, and with a few gentle bounds, he reached his spot on his roof and settled down.
“I paid you to protect me. How are you going to do that if you’re lazing about up there?” Suits called up, his eyes squinting as he tried to distinguish the dark creature against the night’s sky.
Porsche rolled onto his back, his view of the man now upside down. ‘Tough shit.’ His body language seemed to say.
“Fuck sake.” The man mumbled under his breath. Porsche wasn’t going to leave him, he had received payment for a job and he intended to see it through. But he didn’t trust Suit’s as far as he could throw him (which was pretty far, not to brag.) Porsche wanted a quick escape if the man changed his mind when back up arrived.
“You live around here kitten?” Suits asked, his annoyance still evident in his voice. Porsche let out low growl, not an answer but an acknowledgment of annoyance at the nickname.
Porsche just chuffed, amused by the Human’s attempts to a question a panther. Who couldn’t speak.
Suits sighed and tilted his head back, his thick ruffled hair cushioning it against the brick wall. It was a shame, Porsche thought idly, he was a handsome man. He would of much preferred to have met the guy over the bar’s counter, made him a drink whilst enticing him into a chat with coy glances, but, oh well. Alley fights and shifted form’s it was.
They lapsed into silence. Porsche listened keenly for any footsteps but he also noted that Suit’s heartbeat had settled into a healthier rhythm. It was still high of course, he was being hunted and was a effortless leap away from a shifter twice his size. Porsche would find him odd if he wasn’t effected at all.
A few minutes later, a clatter of shoes came from the alley to his left. Porsche sat up, his fur standing on end and ready to jump down at moments notice. The steps got closer and closer-
A group of men fitted in black, smart suits dashed out of the alley entrance Porsche had been locked in on. Porsche’s new acquaintance stood up, the rigidity of his shoulder softening at the sight of his men. After realising that these Humans weren’t a threat to Suit’s, the shifter lay back down silently, careful to not draw attention, and watched as the guards swarmed the young man.
“Khun Kinn, Sir, are you alright?” The lead man asked as he quickly approached Suit’s. Or, Porsche supposed, Kinn.
“Yes. What took so long?” Kinn said, his voice but a growl. The men cowed slightly under his gaze before the straightened up, their chest’s puffing up.
“Our apologies, Sir, the alleyways made it harder for a safe extraction. We came as soon as we could.” One of the guards explained as they bowed slightly in apology. Kinn waved them off clearly not in the mood for forgiveness.
“Parked by the riverside. If we take the alley over there, its only a 2 minute walk if we hurry.”
Kinn nodded in thought. He smoothed out his hair, straightened the lapels of his suit before walking towards the exit the man pointed towards. Immediately his guards stepped into formation, surrounding him in claustrophobic closeness.
“And don’t shoot the shifter, they… helped.” Kinn said reluctantly to the guard on his left.
“What shifter Khun Kinn?” A guard asked as he scanned the surrounding’s around them, hand resting securely on his gun. Kinn’s patience, now non-existent after this shit show of a night, stopped the group and whirled around to point to the panther lounging on the roof.
“Up ther- wait. Where did he go?”
Instead of a hulking form of the annoying shifter, and its soul rendering golden eyes, watching Kinn with an amused wave of it’s tail, there was nothing. Just a bare roof.
The shifter, longer then two of his guards put together, had just disappeared into the night without a sound.
Inspiration post, please give it some love. It's so well done.
KinnPorsche Werewolf!AU
→ gif version for your staring convenience
Dear Anon who sent me an ask, I am sorry. I said it would be 3000 words, but it got away from me and turned into a 5000. I don’t know how this happen.
And as promised: @punchlove-blog . Thank you for your supportive messages, they make my day!
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