Uh Oh! I Like the Wolf Guy!
A couple of things were hard for Ilhan during the night. Especially sleeping. He tried, turned over, closed his eyes, even did that weird breathing thing his brother Tylan once swore by, but Tao was right there. Inches away. Maybe less, now.
The white wolf had curled toward him sometime after Ilhan got back in bed. He didn’t know when exactly, just that at some point, the quiet brush of fur became a warm weight against his side. Tao’s arm was tucked between them, just barely brushing his shirt, and his soft exhale hit Ilhan’s shoulder with every breath.
It was agony. Not bad agony. More like heart-racing, I-ca n't-believe-this-is-happening agony.
Ilhan lay flat on his back, staring in the dark with wide eyes. He was hyperaware of everything, the sound of Tao’s breathing, the shift of weight when Tao twitched in his sleep, the fact if he moved even a little, he’d be holding him.
Don’t be weird, he mouthed to the ceiling for the second time that night. He tried to hold back his urges to flip over and hold Tao close.
But Tao shifted again, sighing in his sleep, and this time, an arm draped over Ilhan’s middle. Ilhan stopped breathing.
Okay. This is fine. He swallowed. I won’t die from this.
He couldn’t move. Wouldn’t dare. The arm stayed there, warm and solid and making his heartbeat loud enough that he was sure Tao would wake up and ask what that noise was. He didn’t, though. He just slept on.
Ilhan’s mind spun in circles. Was this normal? Probably not. Did Tao mean anything by it? Probably not. He was unconscious after all.
“Fuck me…” Ilhan whispered into the dark. “I like him… Like. I really do.”
The truth settled like a weight on his chest. Obvious and heavy.
Eventually, maybe out of pure exhaustion, Ilhan drifted into a few restless hours of half-sleep. But the memory of Tao’s arm stayed with him even through his dreams.
The morning came with golden light bleeding through the blinds.
Ilhan blinked awake to the sensation of something heavy against him, then remembered. Tao. Sleep. Arm.
Tao was still there, his head tilted toward Ilhan’s shoulder now, fur fluffed slightly from sleep. His nose twitched once. Then he stirred, eyes fluttering open in that soft, unfocused way people wake up when they get a reality-altering nap.
Ilhan swallowed thickly. “Good morning.”
Tao blinked at him, then slowly sat up, ears twitching. “Did I…?”
“You, uh.” Ilhan laughed lightly. “Kinda used me as a pillow.”
Tao groaned softly and buried his face in his paws. “I’m so sorry…”
“No, No, don’t be.” Ilhan waved it off, his smile too wide to hide. “You were out cold. I didn’t want to wake you up.”
Tao peeked through his fingers, ears still burning. “Still…”
Ilhan stretched. “You hungry?”
Tao nodded sheepishly.
They ended up sprawled out on Ilhan’s floor, bowls of instant ramen between them, sharing a single pair of chopsticks between bites. Tao had insisted he was fine using them last, but Ilhan refused, so now they were awkwardly switching off between bites.
“Have you ever cooked?” Ilhan asked between slurps.
Tao nodded. “My mom taught me. She used to say you could learn someone’s heart through food.”
“That’s poetic,” Ilhan said. “Are you good at it?”
Tao shrugged. “I like it. I make dumplings for my little brother, Johann, whenever I’m home. He says mine are better than Mom’s, but he’s eleven. He says a lot of things.”
Ilhan laughed. “You have a big family?”
“Not really. Just me, Johann, my mom, and my dad… kind of.” Tao poked at the noodles. “He works overseas a lot. His name is Gerwil. I haven’t seen him in months.”
Ilhan’s voice softened. “Damn, that’s tough.”
Tao nodded once. “Sometimes. But Mom’s strong. She keeps everything together.”
Ilhan leaned back on his paws. “My family’s… kinda the opposite. It’s big and loud, and kinda everywhere.”
Tao looked over at Ilhan. “Tell me?”
Ilhan grinned. “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. There’s Semir, my dad. He thinks I’m gonna go pro in sports or something. Always on my case about training. Then there’s Demir, my oldest brother. The golden boy. He’s commanding, has perfect grades, a perfect job, and abs of steel.”
Tao snorted. “Abs of steel? That’s crazy.”
Ilhan smirked. “Exactly. Then Tylan, he’s older than me and pretty chill. Introduced to stuff my dad wouldn’t like me enjoying, like gaming and the arts. Real soft-spoken but really smart, a little on the lazy side though. Then there’s my twin, Adina. She’s… intense. Not mean, just sharp, she keeps me in check.”
“That’s a lot of names,” Tao said, tail flicking amusedly.
Ilhan nodded. “My family doesn’t seem to believe in small gatherings. But I love them. Even if they drive me nuts at times.”
They sat with that for a moment, quiet laughter and the sound of chopsticks against the cardboard from the instant ramen cups.
Tao set his cup aside and leaned back, cradling his knees. “Where’s your family from? You’re last name is Tılıç, right? It sounds weird, but in a good way.”
Ilhan perked up. “Oh, right, well, my parents are from Ankara. Moved to Germany before I was born.”
Ilhan followed Tao and set his cup aside. “They wanted something better. More stability. My dad was a mechanic there, and my mom was a school teacher. But it was hard. The family economy wasn’t great, and they were worried about our future.”
Tao nodded slowly. “So they came here.”
“Yeah.” Ilhan smiled wistfully. Frankfurt was supposed to be a promise. Dad opened an auto shop. Mom stayed home until Adina and I were old enough. Now she works part-time at a library.”
“Did they struggle?” Tao asked, voice gentle.
Ilhan let out a soft sigh. “A lot. They had a hard time speaking the little English they knew, and to this day, they still stutter or switch to Turkish when speaking German with me and Adina. Even after all these years, people still look at my dad like he’s out of place. But he never complains, and I respect that. Says his accent is ‘a badge.’ Like proof he fought for his life.”
Tao was quiet for a long beat. “That reminds me of my mom.”
Ilhan turned his head. “Yeah?”
Tao nodded. “She moved from Chongqing when she was twenty-two. Said she just wanted some fresh air, something new. She worked in a Chinese bakery for years, saved every euro, did her hardest to learn the language, and studied day and night.”
“Damn,” Ilhan said, impressed.
“She met my dad here,” Tao went on. “Gerwil. He’s British but moved here for a while for work.”
“He’s the corporate type. Due to his work in international affairs, he travels a lot. They got married when I was a baby and had Johann almost a decade later.”
Ilhan tilted his head. “Are they… still close?”
A faint shrug. “Sometimes. They call about 3 days a week. He sends us money every month. But it’s like he exists more on a calendar than in our lives. Comes for the holidays, sometimes he visits for birthdays, that kind of thing.”
Ilhan’s expression softened. “That must be hard… I am really attached to my family, I don’t think I could live like that.”
“It was, especially when I was young, I was angry about it.” Tao traced his finger along the edge of his ramen cup. “But now I just… I understand. People get caught in what they think life is supposed to be. He’s not cruel. Just busy and distant, I think.”
Ilhan nodded. “And what about your mom?”
A small smile curved Tao’s lips. “She’s everything to me. She practically raised me on her own. Taught me Mandarin and English, and I picked up German naturally. Told me stories from her childhood and always made sure I knew where I came from.”
“She seems really sweet…” Ilhan murmured.
“She is,” Tao agreed, his voice softer now. “I still cook her recipes. Even if they come out terrible half the time. Feels like holding onto her now that we don’t live in the same city anymore.”
Ilhan’s ears perked up. “You’re not from Frankfurt?”
Tao tilted his head, “Was it not obvious? I thought I had a bit of an accent.” he laughed softly, “I’m from Munich.”
Ilhan stayed silent for a while with open eyes in surprise. He does have a bit of an accent now that I think about it… How come I didn’t notice sooner? Shit, must be why I feel the way he speaks is so cute.
Tao raised an eyebrow, misreading the silence. “What?”
Ilhan blinked out of it. “Nothing! Just… Munich, huh? That explains why your voice just sounds… softer.”
Tao snorted. “I’ve been found out.”
Ilhan chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s cool. I like it. The way you talk, I mean. It’s kinda uh-” He hesitated, then smiled sheepishly, “It’s kinda charming.”
Tao’s ears lowered slightly, not from shame more so from surprise. “You think so?”
Ilhan nodded, eyes darting away. “Yeah. Don’t let it get to your head, though.”
Tao laughed, a light, genuine sound that made Ilhan smile in return. For a moment, it was just the two of them basking in the soft morning glow, surrounded by the mess of Ilhan’s dorm room.
Tao leaned back again, his tail brushing over Ilhan’s ankle as it curled beside him. “I used to think I had to pick one, being Chinese or being German. I always felt like I was floating between both, never fully part of either. I used to hide that. Like, if I could just blend in more, I’d feel whole.”
Ilhan’s ears twitched. He met Tao’s gaze, steady now. “But you are whole, I don’t think you have to pick one or the other. You’re just Tao and that’s enough.”
Tao smiled, soft and small. “Thanks.”
“And, uh,” Ilhan continued, this time a bit more nervous, “I think you’re pretty cool. Accent and all.”
Tao blinked, caught off guard. “You’re saying that now because I cooked up a tragic backstory.”
“Guilty,” Ilhan said with a playful shrug. “But also because I mean it.”
They lapsed into silence again, the kind that felt easy now. Tao shifted slightly, bumping his shoulder against Ilhan’s. “Thanks for listening. And for… not being weird about it.”
Ilhan glanced at him, voice low and honest. “I could say the same. About… everything last night, this morning, talking about our families… You are being a little too close to midnight.”
Tao looked down at his paws, then up at Ilhan. “Was I really too close while I slept?”
Ilhan’s breath hitched just a little. “No. It was nice.”
Tao’s lips curled at the edges. “Okay.”
Outside, the faint sound of birds filtered through the slightly cracked window. The world was waking up, and yet, in the cozy little bubble of Ilhan’s room, the two of them sat cross-legged, facing each other like there was nowhere else they had to be.
After the ramen cups were thrown out, the day stretched ahead like an open book, no appointments, no classes, just Tao and Ilhan and the low hum of weekend freedom.
Tao flopped backward onto the bed, arms stretched out dramatically. “We should do something fun.”
Ilhan blinked, still processing the soft lilt of Tao’s Bavarian German. “Like what?”
“I don’t know,” Tao mumbled, squinting at the ceiling. “Something that doesn’t require moving that much. But also doesn’t make us boring.”
Ilhan snorted. “That’s a tall order.”
They lingered there for a beat longer, sprawled across Ilhan’s floor in comfortable disarray. The kind of silence that didn’t press on them, it just settled, like a warm blanket.
Eventually, Tao sat up, tail flicking behind him. “Okay, hear me out. What if I teach you how to make dumplings?”
Ilhan blinked. “Really? Now?”
“Yeah, unless you’ve got a sudden appointment I don’t know about.
Ilhan grinned. “Nope, I have the entire weekend free.”
Tao pushed himself to his feet. “Perfect.”
The kitchen wasn’t exactly state-of-the-art. A tiny stovetop, a mini fridge, and barely enough counter space for two people to stand shoulder to shoulder. But Tao was already tying a dish towel around his waist like an apron, and Ilhan was grinning like an idiot, so none of that really mattered.
“First,” Tao said, pushing his sleeves up, “We make the filling. I usually go with pork and cabbage, but we’ll have to adapt for what you currently have.”
Tao checked the mini fridge, pushing aside the frozen food and leftovers he would rather not check. “Perfect.” He grabbed a Tupper with some chicken breast, “You can chop this until it’s ground chicken.”
Ilhan grabbed the chicken breast and began quickly chopping it on a cutting board until it was a mess of tiny clumps.
Tao’s tail flicked in surprise after finding fresh cabbage in the mini fridge. After Ilhan was finished with the ground chicken he gently pushed him aside to chop the cabbage. He began chopping with practiced ease. Ilhan just stared amazed at Tao’s skills.
“Wanna learn to cut it?” Ilhan nodded.
Ilhan tried to copy Tao’s movements, almost chopping a finger off. “No, no, no, watch your fingers,” Tao said, stepping closer, placing his paws gently on top of Ilhan’s as he guided them into the right position. “Like this. Curve your claws in.”
Ilhan nodded, face a little too close. Tao tried not to notice.
He failed.
As the evening deepened, Tao’s focus shifted, not just to the folding technique or spice measurements, but to Ilhan.
The red panda wasn’t graceful in the kitchen. He talked with his hands too much, got flour on his shirt, and asked “Is this poisonous?” about every second sauce. But he laughed like it meant something. Like being here, doing this, was actually fun.
Tao watched him smile as he tried to pleat a dumpling and failed again, dramatically tossing it aside.
“You’re laughing at me,” Ilhan said, squinting at him.
“No,” Tao said. “I’m just observing your learning process.”
Ilhan stuck his tongue out. “Rude.”
Tao chuckled, but the sound caught somewhere halfway up his throat. He turned back to the bowl of filling, trying not to think too hard about how Ilhan’s fur lit up under the kitchen light, how his eyes crinkled when he laughed.
He told himself it was just comfort and familiarity. They were close, so of course the atmosphere felt easy and safe.
But then Ilhan brushed his shoulder as he reached for a bowl. It wasn’t on purpose or as flirting, just something natural.
And Tao’s heartbeat didn’t ask permission before it jumped. He stared down at his paws. Oh no.
The dumplings turned out slightly misshapen, some uneven, and one completely exploded in the pan. This is definitely Ilhan’s dumpling.
But when they sat down together on the floor again, plates scattered around them, dipping sauces in bottlecaps, it didn’t matter.
Ilhan took a bite, eyes going wide. “Dude. These are insane.”
Tao laughed, but it felt far away, like the sound was moving through water. His eyes lingered on Ilhan. On the little smear of flour still on his cheek. On the warmth in his voice. On the way, he chewed like this was the best thing he’d eaten in a while.
It hit him gently at first. Like the first flake of snow before the storm.
I like him. I think I’ve been liking him.
He looked down at his plate, ears burning.
Ilhan glanced over. “You okay?”
Tao nodded quickly. “Yeah. Just… a little tired.”
Ilhan smirked. “You slept like a baby, and you’re still tired?”
Tao hid his face in his paws. “God… will you ever let that go?”
“It’s silly, though!” Ilhan had his usual dumb grin on his face. “But honestly. I’m also a little sleepy. I never cook, so this drained me a bit. Wanna take a quick nap?”
Tao hesitated, he really wanted to say yes but he also wanted to pause the time, instead he just nodded.
Later, after the lights were off and the leftovers tucked away, Tao lay on his side in Ilhan’s bed. Not touching and not daring to speak a word. Just breathing in sync, side by side.
Ilhan’s breathing slowed as he drifted off.
Tao lay awake, eyes tracing the ceiling patterns. The truth was settling into his chest like a warm sensation.
I’m in love with him.
He wasn unsure what to do with that yet. But he smiled softly into the dark, and whispered, “Shit.” And let himself fall asleep with that truth tucked under his pillow.