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Time passes. Well before Zeus's thirteenth birthday, he looks human-25, and then he stops, and Harley catches up; Zeus is still taller, but not by much, and burlier, but not by much.

Wolves have a lot of casual sex amongst themselves; the girl wolves can't get pregnant, and with pack telepathy it would be pretty hard to hide a secret crush. Everyone avoids getting serious - well, the lesbians don't, but any couple involving a male wolf has to avoid deep emotional entanglements that would shatter if he imprinted; the Imperial Seer helps, but she is not perfect and they will live for long enough that even a slim chance adds up. But casual sex absolutely happens. Zeus has a friend with benefits by the time he's fifteen (her name is Kitty, but she thinks this is ridiculous, and prefers "Xanthe" after her yellow fur).

He helpfully passes on to the pack that Harley thinks they are all hot; several people take advantage of this information, and Harley has more than one friend with benefits at the age of fifteen.

(Meanwhile, the masquerade is in tatters; wolves are just more convenient than looking for human partners, at least until Zeus decides he's interested in the Seer finding him a suitable imprint.)

This newfound interest does not mean Zeus and Harley don't hang out, even now that they're both sixteen. Presently, Harley is getting his ass handed to him by his wolf-reflexed sparring partner at a mo-cap fighting video game entitled Bloodsport V.
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And he is having the time of his life. Getting virtually shredded is almost as much fun as getting actually shredded.

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Finally, Zeus's avatar (a scary demonic sort of creature with a lot of spikes all over it) delivers an irrecoverable blow, and Harley's is out of handicap potions.

"Gotcha," says Zeus, smirking.
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Harley giggles.

"That was fun!" he says, flopping onto the couch.
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"Yeah," says Zeus, "I told you it was a good game." He grabs his water bottle, drains it, heads for the sink for a refill and helps himself to a couple apples out of the fruit bowl. "Next time we can use a bigger handicap, I'm still too fast for you to have a fighting chance."

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"You hungry?" inquires Harley. This is something of a joke.

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"Nope, couldn't eat a bite," says Zeus, and then he consumes nearly half of his apple in a single bite, "especially not one of your omelets with ridiculous amounts of cheese in it, such a thing would definitely go to waste, even if it had, like, mushrooms and peppers in it."

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Harley gets up off the couch, gives Zeus the squishiest imaginable hug, and commences making an omelet.

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"Waste of effort!" says Zeus around apple. "Your labors will be in vain! I am eternally full!"

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"Pshhhhh," says Harley.

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"Also I suspect you're going to poison me and my food taster's away on important business." The first apple is gone now. "So I couldn't eat that anyway. And, and I am suddenly a vegan. Also it's Ramadan and I've just converted to Islam. And I have developed multiple spontaneous allergies." He begins apple the second.

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"Liar," he says affectionately. "Hungry, terrible liar."

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"How dare you, I've the Princess's own honesty," says Zeus. (Knowing the princess personally hasn't made him more willing to call her by name, and besides, this is a common figure of speech now.)

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"Liiiiiiiaaaaaaaaaar," sings Harley.

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"Poisoning chicken-murdering infidel," snickers Zeus. "Who... I can't think of a good word for the allergy one."

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"Terrible, uncreative liar," says Harley. "The gravest of sins. I should take away your omelet."

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"Noooooooo," cries Zeus, discarding denuded apple cores and falling dramatically to his knees, hands clasped, "anything but that, I'll be good, I'll fetch your slippers for you."

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Harley giggles.

"Yeah, yeah," he says. "You're adorable. You're so adorable, I should make out with you."
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Zeus blinks politely. "I was thinking you should make me an omelet, but now I'm really curious where you got that conclusion."

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"I'm already making you an omelet!" Harley says cheerfully. "Look, it's an omelet, it's going to be so tasty."

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"It smells fucking amazing," says Zeus, hauling himself to his feet.

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"Yep! No but anyway, did you not know I want to make out with everyone? I thought we covered that like a year ago," he laughs.

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"Yeah, I guess you did say 'everyone', I didn't think that meant me, we all know I'm not really a werewolf but actually a figment of your imagination," says Zeus easily, flopping into a kitchen chair and leaning hopefully in the direction of unfinished omelet.

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"You're the best imaginary figment ever," Harley agrees. "And I would totally make out with you."

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"Checking, checking... Still prefer to kiss only people with breasts," says Zeus. "It's this weird, uncommon kink I have, you probably haven't heard of it."

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Harley cracks up.

"I hear that's not an insurmountable barrier!" he says.
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