this is one of my Van Helsing April Fool's Day stories. I have no
Carl emerged from the bedroom in search of something to drink.
had just began filtering through the trees into the small room he’d
shared with Van Helsing last night, and though it was still dim enough
that most people could easily sleep, Carl was accustomed to rising
before the sun rose, so he already felt like he’d overslept. He’d been
spooned against the hunter’s back, and had kissed his muscled shoulder
and unwound himself from around the man, rising without waking him, as
the hunter was most definitely not a morning person.
And he was bound to be tired this morning, Carl thought with a
Van Helsing had always been a. . . thorough lover. Passionate.
Primal. But never more so than last night. He’d never let himself go as
completely before. And as Carl touched his almost tender lips, he
realized that Van Helsing had never allowed the wolf they both knew was
still inside him to emerge quite so forcefully. He’d been almost. . .
animal at times. Growling and nipping. And Carl found he liked that.
Until he walked into Van Helsing, who was standing in the
hallway, fully dressed, even to his coat. Looking at Carl, eyebrows
“And just where were you last night, Carl?” He crossed his
arms across his chest.
“Uh—I—uh—bu—“ was all Carl could manage. He watched Van
Helsing’s gaze travel up and over his shoulder, and his face absolutely
fell. Carl turned to see what he was glaring at, and found himself
looking right at Van Helsing.
“Bu—ah—I—who—oh my God.” Carl held tight to the sheet he was
wrapped in and looked back at the real Van Helsing. “But I didn’t know,
he was. . . “ Carl crooked the fingers of one hand into claws and
growled. “He was all grrr and rarrr and. . . " Carl made snorting
sounds, ". . . wolf. . . and his body, his face. . . it was dark you
know, and even the sounds he made while—“
“That’s all right, Carl. Just. . . “ Van Helsing sighed and
rubbed his forehead.
Carl looked at the doppelganger again. Exactly like Van
Helsing, except his manner of dress, of course. And the hair. It was
much shorter and stuck up in points on each side of his head. Carl
giggled at how silly the man’s hair looked, then reached up and
fingered Van Helsing’s wavy locks.
“Don’t worry, Gabriel, yours is much better.” He turned back,
still full of hilarity. “I think you have bed hair, Mr. . . .?”
Logan looked past Carl at Van Helsing, and used his hands to
make swooping motions on each side of his face in an approximate
mimicry of Carl’s hairdo. “Is he serious?”
Van Helsing shrugged.
Logan smirked and lit his cigar. “He is kind of cute, after
“He’s mine,” Van Helsing said.
Claws popped and tojos spun, and Carl put both hands out to
keep the men apart. Which left nothing to hold up the sheet.
“There’s no need to fight for him.”
“We are very similar. Like the same person. Almost.”
Claws were sheathed and the tojos were tossed as both men
advanced, and Carl looked straight up at the ceiling, smiled and
mouthed a silent, “thank you for the blessings you are about to
“I’m Logan. Just don’t call me by his name,” Logan growled.
“Oh no, don’t worry Logan,” Carl said, between panting
breaths. “The sun’s up now, I can clearly tell you apart--he has much