Their Spark

Brent entered the café, his tail hanging, almost between his legs, and his ears lowered. He had his hands in his pockets and a slightly sad, blank look in his eyes. Brent was going to meet his step sister, Felicia, a cat whose mother married into the family. Brent and Felicia were the same age. They were both nineteen and had known each other since they were twelve. Brent had called Felicia to the café in hopes of seeking council with Felicia about his current problem. It would have helped if Brent knew exactly what was wrong, but he had no such luck. He took off his South Face black fleece jacket, sighed, and sat down.

“All right, Brent. Why did you call me here, and why are you late?” Inquired Felicia. She was sitting at the opposite end of the table, enjoying what appeared to be a milk latte. She still had some of the drink on the fur of her lips.

“I’m sorry. And, I really don’t know what’s wrong, this time. And traffic was jammed forever.” Said Brent, staring into a cup of coffee that Felicia had brought him before he came. It was getting cold, and he had no plans of drinking it.

“Well, it helps to know the problem before you seek help for it. You know, so I know what it is that you need help with? So what do you think it could be? Did you lose something? Is something missing?”

“Maybe…”

“Maybe? What do you mean ‘maybe’?”

“I don’t know! It just feels like I’m missing something. Something that hasn’t been there all my life, but I suddenly feel like it needs to be there. Something that I haven’t got the slightest clue about.”

“Oh, joy. I get to help Brent with the thousandth vague problem he’s presented to me thus far.” Teased Felicia. “You know, a relationship might help. Just get up off that wolf but of yours and find a female. You’ve never gotten to spend any genuinely quality time with a potential mate before.”

“If what I was looking for was sex, then I could’ve found it by now, thank you.”

“Oh, please. Your hands are too pure to even touch a condom, little miss virgin.”

“I’ll have you know that some females find me quite attractive.”

“But you never show any interest in them. They won’t see you as desirable or worthy unless you show a spark of… Well, something.”

“It’s not my fault that they don’t captivate me.”

“I suppose it isn’t, but still. Is there anymore that you might wish to elaborate upon about this feeling?”

“Well, I guess I just feel… hollow. Lonely.”

“I didn’t think it before, but, Brent, you’re trapped. Trapped in a plot that’s been done a billion times over. You feel incomplete, lonely, and hollow, like something’s missing in your life. Then, you meet the person of your dreams, and you feel blissfully complete and live happily ever after, excluding all of the drama.”

“Felicia, get serious.” Sighed Brent.

“I am, Brent! You just haven’t read enough romance novels or yaoi to know just how serious I really am!”

“I’ve read more than enough harlequin romances, Felicia.”

“You’ve only ever read half of one!”

“Exactly.”

Brent’s latte was getting cold. Felicia then drank deeply from hers, embracing the warm, milky fluid that flowed through her mouth and down her throat. When she finished, Felicia grabbed a napkin from the dispenser on the side of the table and wiped her whiskers and the fur around her mouth clean.

“Now, Felicia, tell me something useful. I don’t want to spend all of winter break sitting in a café with my step sister.” Stated Brent. He now had his arms hung over the back of his seat, with a slightly frustrated look in his eyes.

“See, that’s the problem with you, Brent. All you want is a quick fix. Instant gratification. It’ll get you nowhere, and you learn absolutely nothing from it. These things take time, Brent. Despite however old you might feel at nineteen years of age, you’ve got quite a bit of growing up to do, whether you like it or not.”

Brent sighed and look outside. He was somewhat ignoring Felicia now.

“Hey! Brent, don’t you ignore me! That’s the truth, and you know it.”

“I thought we were here to discuss a different problem, Felicia.” Said Brent, still staring out the window next to his seat, watching the cars and people whiz by, too busy to notice anyone or anything else.

“That we are, Brent. But this is the kind of thing that you just can’t have an instant fix for, like I keep telling you.”

“All right. So what do I need to do?” Sighed Brent.

“You know, mom and dad would be perfectly willing to get you a therapist if they thought that that’s what you wanted or needed.”

“I don’t want a shrink, nor do I need one. I’ve got too much crap going on in my life as it is, thank you, and I don’t want to waste my time or mom and dad’s money going to some know-it-all shrink.”

“You only say that because my uncle’s a therapist.” Replied Felicia.

“Yes, and mom and dad would most likely send me to him, whether I like it or not.” Responded Brent.

“Well maybe it would help if you changed the course of your life. Declare a major already! Decide what you’re going to do.”

“I can’t just rush into something like that. I have to think about it first. Reflect upon myself. Find out which career will suit me best.”

“So now you’re tired of quick fixes. Brent, you really need to loosen up. Now, why don’t we go out and find you a nice wolf whore whose legs are easy to open?” Teased Felicia. She would always make these kinds of remarks around Brent in order to cheer him up. They were usually hit or miss, sometimes lifting Brent’s spirits and making him laugh, and other times simply making him more angry and moody. After a few seconds, Felicia realized that this particular remark had the latter effect--Brent was ignoring her, putting on his jacket, and walking away. Felicia chose to leave Brent to himself for the moment. Perhaps she had already said enough.

Stupid Felicia. I could go to anyone else, but no, I have to choose my step sister. thought Brent. His ears and tail were still lowered, but he was now pouting and had a somewhat frustrated air about him. Brent was ruminating over Felicia’s words. So maybe he was a bit immature. So maybe he did always look for the quick fix. But that didn’t mean that Felicia had to bring it up then, of all times, while they were discussing an unrelated problem.

Brent continued down the street, noticing all of the buildings and people around him. They all looked so busy. So bored. So stressed. Too much so to notice anything. Even if the world crumbled around them. He kept walking. Smelling the wafts of fumes in the air. Exhaust. Caffeine. Lattes from all of the competing cafés around him. Brent was starting to wish that he had taken the opportunity to drink the latte that Felicia had bought him. He strolled down the street and dived into a random café and asked for some coffee. When he had received it, Brent walked outside and further down the street.

Right then, Brent’s phone vibrated. It was a text message. He reached into his pocket and grabbed his cell phone, careful not to drop it on the sidewalk. Brent opened his phone and navigated to the messaging screen. The latest message was from Sarah. Sarah was a rabbit with whom Brent had been acquainted with all his life. Her parents were rich, and held many social gatherings, to which Brent was invited once in a blue moon. He opened the message and read the contents, which read: Hey yall! Just remindin u not 2 b late 4 the party 2nite @ 6:00! BCNU!!!

Brent had completely forgotten. He didn’t even remember that there was a party. And, even stranger still, apparently he was invited. Brent glanced at the digital clock on his phone. 4:50 PM. He had more than enough time to get back to his apartment, get ready, and make it to Sarah’s parents’ party. Brent looked through the crowd and buildings. He could barely see his apartment complex from where he was standing. Brent hurried down the street. He would have to catch a taxi if he wanted to get back to his apartment quickly enough.

As Brent stood there, waiting, he saw something. Or, rather, someone. As he gazed across the street at the space in front of a café, Brent saw a wolf. An arctic wolf. The wolf was male, there was no doubt. A wolf? And an arctic one, no less? I didn’t think that his city even had any arctic inhabitants. Thought Brent. He could tell that the artic wolf was broad shouldered and rather muscular; wearing something akin to a more casual version of a black tuxedo jacket with a light blue sweater underneath. The wolf was wearing black dress pants with a black belt that had a gold buckle, and had well kempt fur as well. Every piece of clothing on him looked expensive, and there was no question about it--this wolf looked sharp. And older. More mature. He didn’t look that much older, per se, but so much more mature. In this respect, the arctic wolf looked at least ten years older than Brent. The arctic wolf was sitting at a table, and, as opposed to the rest of the world around him, he looked happy. But there was something more. Something that caught Brent’s eye and held it there. As Brent found himself staring, he quickly turned away only to find himself blushing.

The next thing Brent knew, there was a taxi in front of him.

“’Ey! Ya wanna get in er not, wolf?” Said the driver, who was an ant eater that was rather portly. Brent then wondered just how long he had been there.

“Oh, uh, yeah. To the apartment complex on fifty-eighth street, please.” Stammered Brent. He felt embarrassed, and was now blushing a little bit more. Not that he was doing it hard enough for anyone to see it through his grey fur. Brent then ducked into the taxi and sat on the back seat. As the driver started to drive the taxi away, Brent looked back one final time at the arctic wolf, only to find the wolf looking right back at him and smiling. Brent quickly ducked back down, now blushing so hard that anyone could see it. His heart was pounding and he was panting, with his ears pricked, standing straight up.

“Whassa matter, boy? A pretty female lookin’ back attcha?” Asked the driver. Brent could tell that the ant eater was rather amused by what had just transpired, even if the driver didn’t fully understand it.

“Uh, yeah, something like that.” Brent stammered.

“Well lucky you, then! Why, when I was yer age, I ‘ad quite the mate. She bore me a son, then the next thing ya know, she’s leavin’ with half the money and my kid!” Exclaimed the driver. The ant eater droned on and on, speaking of his life, his loves, and his son, and many more things that Brent failed to listen to. He was simply to captivated by the wolf he had just seen--who was he? Why was he there? Why did he smile back at Brent? Why couldn’t Brent seem to shake the thought of that arctic wolf? All of these questions and more burned in Brent’s mind and demanded answers, but there were none to be found.

“Awright, we’re there.” Said the ant eater. “Ya’d do best t’ remember the stuff I just told ya, wolf boy.”

“Oh, yeah, I will!” Responded Brent, shocked to be brought out of his rumination.

He stepped out of the taxi, still shaking his head with his ears lowered and his tail hanging low. But now, more out of deep thought more than anything else. Brent couldn’t stop thinking of that other wolf. He wanted to talk to him, to sit with him, to be with him, and to find out as much as he could about that arctic wolf. But Brent didn’t have the time for that now. He had to get ready to go to Sarah’s parents’ party. There was no doubt that Sarah had demanded that he be invited. Brent had fifty minutes left until six o’clock. He had plenty of time to prepare.

Brent ran up the stairs to the second floor, down the path, and into his apartment. It was a clean, orderly space with a desk in the far corner and a bed against the wall, a microwave atop a counter, and a cabinet cupboard in which Brent kept his food, that had a mini refrigeration unit for meat. He walked over to the closet, in which he picked a black suit with a grey cummerbund, a black vest, and a white button-up shirt for the very bottom layer. It had black dress pants. Brent decided that he could do without the cummerbund, so he hung the waste piece back up in the closet and set the rest of the suit on his bed. He flung his jacket on his bed as well; he wouldn’t be wearing it again tonight.

Brent stepped into the bathroom and took off his shirt, exposing his somewhat muscular upper body. His fur was ruffled along his figure from his clothes. He stretched his arms out widely, flexing the muscles in his chest and back. Brent then proceeded to take off his pants, unbuttoning the strap that was just above the waste that let his tail come through, exposing his toned legs. Brent took off his boxers next, showing his firm ass. Glancing down at his dick, Brent liked to think that he was well-endowed, but didn’t have anything else to compare it to. With his balls hanging in the cold air, and the shaft suspended upwards by skin, the pinkish shaft inside of it barely showing its tip. The sooner he got into the shower, the better.

Brent moved into the shower, turning on the warm water. The water poured on him, embracing him and relaxing him. It ran along Brent’s figure, soothing his muscles and massaging his skin, while cleansing his fur. He grabbed a bottle of body shampoo and poured it in his hand, and then rubbed it all over his body. Brent stood there, underneath the jet of warm water, washing away the bubbles and suds from his fur and body. The foam from the shampoo ran down the contours of his legs, slowly washing away into the drain. Brent turned off the water, and shook himself mostly dry. His fur was in a complete disarray at this point. It was in tangles and knots and pointed every this way and that way. Brent stepped out of the shower and took a towel and rubbed himself completely dry. He finally took a brush from the cabinet above the sink and brushed his fur. Brent then stepped out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, where his suit was waiting for him. He quickly grabbed a pair of underwear from a drawer, put it on, and proceeded to dress himself.

“All right. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. But… what if… that wolf shows up again? Wait, what am I thinking? Why can’t I get him out of my head? It’s too weird. And besides, the chances of Sarah or her parents knowing him are practically slim to none.” Said Brent as he walked out of his apartment, closing the door behind him. Brent then walked down the street to the corner, where he was fortunate enough to find another taxi.

Brent paid the driver and stepped out of the taxi. He was now in front of Sarah’s estate, the huge, beautiful white front of the building intimidating him even more so than ever. He couldn’t shake the feeling of pre-climactic nerve that had suddenly wrapped itself around him. Brent didn’t know why. Perhaps it was the thought of that white wolf that he had seen earlier in the day? Probably. Brent started thinking of reasons why the wolf may or may not be at the gathering in the first place.

“Well, he did look well connected…” He would tell himself, the second later contradicting himself by saying something like “But what are the odds that they know him? In a city this big?”

Brent cautiously walked up the stairs, trying to make himself look happy to be there by forcing his ears and tail up. At this point, however, he couldn’t hide the raging blush under his fur, nor the worried look in his eyes. As he approached the front door, the doorman, a rather old looking border collie, apprehended him and checked the list.

“Let’s see… a mister Brent Voreson, is that right? You don’t appear to be on this list.”

Typical. Whenever Sarah invited someone personally, she never went through the proper stages of getting them in on the list of guests. Normally, Brent wouldn’t have minded and taken the heat from Sarah, but this occasion was different. Brent had to get into that mansion. He didn’t know why or how he would do it, he just knew that he had to.

“But Sarah invited me herself! I even have the text message to prove it!” Said Brent, looking for his phone and then showing it to the doorman. “See? Proof!”

“I hear these things can easily be fabricated, young man. And that most certainly is not how the young mistress communicates to others!” The old collie obviously had no idea about current technology. Brent knew that this was going to end up being entirely in vain, but he had to try it.

“Call Sarah down here and ask her yourself!” Brent was becoming frustrated. He didn’t know why, but he wanted to be in that place so badly.

“Sir, I’m afraid that the young mistress is busy at the moment. Now I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Stated the doorman in a firm voice. Brent could tell that he wasn’t going to take anymore talk from some stranger wolf.

“But mister, it’s me, Brent! Sarah’s wolf friend!” He exclaimed. Though he doubted that the old border collie would remember him. Brent had seen the old man before, at one of the parties. Brent thought that the image of a rabbit dancing with a gray wolf would be rather memorable, but instead it had slipped out of this old doorman’s memory.

“Now sir.” Said the doorman, in an increasingly harsh tone. “This is a private gathering. Do you know what that means? It means that there are no strangers like yourself allowed! Now please leave before I call security on you!” Threatened the border collie. Brent flinched back for an instant. What was he to do? He couldn’t just run away. He would never forgive himself. And he certainly couldn’t force his way in. Brent would be beaten down by security guards. He also couldn’t just stand there like a nervous idiot. Brent had to do something that would merit his entrance into the mansion.

“Sir, I’m giving you until the count of three.” Said the doorman in a rather grim tone. “If you are not gone by the time I reach three, then I shall be forced to use forceful measures upon your being. And I don’t mind saying that I wouldn’t all together mind it by this point.” Threatened the old man once more. Bent had to act now. And fast, else he be punished via “forceful measures”.

“Three.” Said the doorman. Time was running out.

“Um, well, sir, I really have to get into this party, and, well, you see--”

“Two.” Interrupted the collie. “I’m warning you, boy. This is your last chance. Leave before you get hurt.” Sorely stated the doorman.

At that very instant, a car pulled up behind Brent at the base of the stair way that lead up to the door. A fancy, black car that looked rather old to Brent. Out of it stepped a wolf--a pure white wolf. He had dark blue eyes and wore a tuxedo with a black cummerbund. There was no mistaking it. This was the exact same arctic wolf that Brent had seen earlier.

“Now what have we here?” The wolf said in a somewhat low, amused voice. Brent couldn’t help but notice every detail of how it sounded. Low and sweet, with years of experience. But the voice’s owner didn’t look a day over twenty-five.

“An interesting scene. Looks like some fun was about to be had before I stepped in. Now, why don’t we avoid the drama and let the boy come inside with me as a guest?” Asked the arctic wolf. Brent couldn’t help but be rendered speechless at this impromptu encounter as he reeled backwards to see the new guest.

“Wh-why certainly, Mr. Basch, sir!” Said the doorman. What was it about this wolf that had made the stead-fast, old, border collie doorman yield so easily? Inundated by the other wolf’s sudden presence, Brent suddenly fell over, but caught himself at the last minute by shifting his weight to his left foot and sticking it behind himself.

The arctic wolf then casually walked in, not paying Brent the slightest piece of mind.

“Young man.” Said the doorman. “If you are going to take this extremely opportune moment, I suggest you do so now.”

“R-right!” Agreed Brent, as he rushed in through the entrance. He was blushing harder than ever, rushing to find the wolf that had gained him entrance to this place. But that pure white wolf was nowhere to be found.

“Damn.” Said Brent underneath his breath. He cursed himself for losing sight of the white wolf. Suddenly, Brent heard someone’s voice.

“Brent!” Came a loud, high voice from the crowd. Bret turned around to see Sarah emerging from the flock of guests around her. “How have you been?” Eagerly asked Sarah. She ran with a glass of whine in her hand, holding up her purple dress so as not to trip over it.

“Oh, fine. You know, a class here, a job there, a dramatic scene every now and then--the usual stuff.” Sighed Brent. He was letting on how he felt through his voice, but didn’t realize it until it was too late.

“What’s the matter, Brent? Is something wrong?” Caringly inquired Sarah. Brent could tell that she had taken a liking to him, despite their differing species.

“Oh, nothing. Just been a little down lately. Hoping to get a bit more upbeat with this party. Everything looks great, by the way.”

“Oh, you think so?” Said Sarah, her expression lighting up. “You’ll have to tell the caterer, Stacy!” She exclaimed. Brent thought that it was amazing that Sarah had been so fickle about her moods. Was it attention deficit disorder? He wasn’t quite sure, but he strongly suspected it.

“Good to know. How are you tonight, Sarah?” Asked Brent. He needed to get his mind off of the whole wolf incident. He needed to converse with someone.

“Oh, fine, fine. A rather blasé party, isn’t it?” She stated. To Sarah, anything without wild screaming and loud music was blasé.

“Well, you can’t blame your parents for having such fragile and old friends, now can you?” Brent teased.

“No, I suppose I can’t. But seriously, liven up the mood a bit? It’s not a funeral, people!”

It was a good thing that all of the murmuring and conversing drowned out Sarah’s most recent remark. It would have certainly earned her enough attention to be grounded.

“Sarah, they have their way of partying and you have yours.”

“I know, but I mean, c’mon! Where’s the fun? The livelihood? Nowhere to be found, that’s where.” Sarah complained. Brent could tell that she had had a little too much whine to drink, and while Sarah was turned away, he quietly slipped away from the scene. Brent saw Felicia standing by a table with a male cat that looked a year or two older than she was. He had brown fur with black stripes and wore a tuxedo with an open jacket and a blue cummerbund and black necktie. Brent approached the male, cautious not to look too interested, lest he unwillingly trick the male into thinking that he was interested in Felicia, which was definitely not the case.

“Hey. Might I ask what you’re doing with my step sister, sir?” said Brent with a somewhat protective look in his eyes and a menacing intonation of voice, just for good measure. He wanted to be sure that Felicia wasn’t in any kind of trouble, event thought the chances of meeting a sexual predator of any kind were very small at a gathering held by Sarah’s parents, of all people.

“Oh, well, you see, mister, I’m just, uh, talking to her, and--”

“Grant, don’t be intimidated by Brent. He wouldn’t hurt you. He’s just a big old wimp of a wolf. Never even been in a genuine fight before, and still a virgin.” teased Felicia. She was very skilled at disarming Brent verbally in front of other people by now.

“Hey! That’s not true! I totally fought that one pangolin a few weeks ago!”

“That wasn’t a fight, Brent. After the first small blow he was on the ground crying for his mother, and he never even got a punch in. It doesn’t show that you’re manly, it just shows that you’re a big bully.”

Brent could tell that he was going to pay for his recent actions. Even more so than the verbal castration he was receiving. He figured that now would be the best time to make amends with the male who was now snickering beside Felicia.

“Look, I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure that you weren’t some sort of predator who was after my sister. I’m not nearly as bad as she makes me sound, although she would deny every bit of what I’m saying if it were up to her, and you’d believe her, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, I have to admit, I would.” confessed the male cat.

“So, Grant was it? How did you and Felicia meet? And why didn‘t I ever hear about it?”

“I’ll answer that one.” Felicia interrupted. “We were on the subway a week or so ago and got to chatting, and eventually a date, and so here we are. And you never heard about it just so that I could have the opportunity to do what I just did when you interrupted us.”

Damn. Felicia planned that one out pretty well, I have to admit. Thought Brent.

“Well, that was nice of you.” stated Brent.

“Oh, Felicia, you said something about meeting your parents here earlier?” Asked Grant.

“Felicia, I think something’s wrong with your brain. Mom and dad live thousands of miles away.” Brent explained.

“Oh, but they’re here. I had Sarah’s parents invite them, and then they flew here.” Felicia explained.

“Joy… mom and dad…”

“Come on, guys, they’re over here, and they’re eager to see us. Especially you, Grant.”

“Joy… parents…”

Felicia, Grant, and Brent made their way to the refreshments table, where Brent saw his father, a grey wolf with a stocky build, and his step mother, a skinny orange cat. They were both enjoying glasses of wine and conversing with friends. Felicia’s mother saw them approaching first, and greeted them with a heart-felt “hello”. Felicia’s mother took Grant and Felicia off to another area after a quick word with Brent’s father, who quickly took to catching up with Brent.

“So, son, how’s it been? Found any pretty females lately?” Brent’s father asked. He was always amused by asking such questions.

“No, father. None have caught my eye.” Brent replied.

“Still nothing, eh? I remember when I was your age, me and your mother would go down to the pier together for hours, and no one would have to know what kind of things we got away with down there. She was quite the female, your mother was. Too bad she died when you were little. But now, I have Samantha, and a daughter to be proud of as well. I’d like to say that both relationships worked out rather well.”

Just then, someone emerged from the crowd and came to meet Brent and his father. It was him--the white wolf. Brent could recognize those eyes anywhere.

“Oh, why hello Mr. Basch! How have you been? Have you met my son, Brent?”

“Wait, you two know each other?” Brent said in confusion. He wasn’t sure how or why this could be possible.

“Why, of course, Brent. Your father and I are business colleagues.” Explained Mr. Basch.

“Brent, this is Mr. Basch. The youngest, most talented one around. His family’s rich, but he’s managed to make quite the name for himself, despite his background of crazy over-achievers.” Brent’s father explained.

“Really, sir. You’re too kind. And you, Brent, can call me Vince. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Mr. Basch held out his white, furry hand in greeting to Brent in order for him to shake it. Brent hesitantly shook his hand and blushed. Brent couldn’t believe what was happening. A confrontation with the white wolf that had captivated him so? Was this simply sheer luck? Or something more? Brent couldn’t decide which. Brent shook Vince’s hand and greeted him with a shaky “hello”.

“A ha ha! Am I really that intimidating, Brent?” Vince asked teasingly.

“No, it’s just that, um--”

“Now Brent, you know that homosexuality is strictly forbidden in my family.” Brent’s father stated half jokingly. Most families, for some reason or another, were intolerant of homosexuality, whether or not it was for breeding reasons, religious back grounds, or any other sort of reasons. Brent’s father happened to be very homophobic, disliking, and unwelcome towards gays, and was somewhat paranoid about Brent breeding, since Brent was his only son. Another wolf father in his position would probably be the same way.

“Now sir, don’t be like that. I get that from a lot of people. I’ve heard that I’m a somewhat imposing person.” Vince responded. “Now, why don’t Brent and I have a bit of a chat over here, if you wouldn’t mind?” Vince asked.

“Well, I suppose it’s all right…” Brent’s father answered.

“Splendid. Come, Brent. Let us talk.”

Brent’s mind was in a complete disarray. He didn’t know how to take all of the new events that were occurring around him involving this man named Vince. Brent just knew that he had to follow Vince. He was captivated by Vince in a way that he had never felt before.

“Good. We’re far enough away. Now, Brent, let us talk.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“About these feelings you have for me.”

“What!?”

“Don’t play dumb, Brent. I’m twenty-five years old. Pheromones make the game of guessing emotions very easy, and your old man’s nose isn’t what it used to be, I can tell.”

“Well, what kind of ‘feelings’ are they, because I’ll be damned if I know.”

“You mean the names for them? I believe that, in order, they’re called, pining, loneliness, wanting, captivation, and many more.”

“So what? Whatever the hell my dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him!”

“I’m not going to tell your father, Brent. You have my word.”

“Is there anything else you’d like to embarrass the hell out of about me?”

“Well, possibly. But we’re not finished with our first topic yet, Brent. And calm down a bit. If you speak any louder, you’re going to create a scene.”

Brent was becoming more and more mortified. This wolf named Vince was looking right through him. Seeing feelings that he couldn’t identify and naming them, keeping calm no matter what, knowing what Brent was feeling.

“Now, you see, Brent. These feelings… I think that I feel them for you as well, ever since I saw you from that café table this afternoon I don‘t know why they‘ve developed so quickly, but I can‘t just leave them there to fester..”

Brent didn’t know how to respond to something like this. He couldn’t tell whether or not to run away or stay there. To speak up or to stay silent. So he stayed silent.

“You see, Brent, I’m sure that, like me, you’ve never felt these kinds of feelings before. But we need to confront them first, and the quicker, the better. So, how about I take you as my next dancing partner for the next slow song?”

“Wait, what!?”

“I’m only kidding. But in all seriousness, Brent, I want you to come to my place of residence with me.” Stated Vince.

“Come home with you?”

“Yes. There, we are at a much lower risk.”

“Shouldn’t I at least tell my dad that I’m leaving?”
“If you feel that you must, then go right ahead. He’s on the other side of the room, and I’ll be waiting right here, if you so choose to come back.”

Brent quickly took the opportunity to get away from the scene momentarily. He knew that he would think himself crazy for it, but Brent swore that he would go back to Vince. Once Brent reached his father, he told him that he didn’t feel well and was going home. As soon as that was over with, Brent headed back towards Vince, who was waiting in the exact same spot for him.

“So, shall we proceed to my house, so that then we may talk unencumbered?” Vince offered. Of course, Brent had no other choice in his mind but to accept.

“So, Brent, do you have a particular kind of music that you like?”

“Oh, um, I like ska.”

“What? A ska fan? In my presence? I never though I’d see the day when I could meet a kindred spirit!” Vince said. “Which wave are you into? I’m one hell of a third wave ska fan.”

“Same here. Do you have any Not-So-Un-Mighty Master Tones on you?”

“Are you kidding? Only always.”

Vince put a CD into the holder that extended from the front of the dashboard. Within a few seconds, they could both hear trombones, saxophones, trumpets, electric guitars and basses, drums, and heavy vocals playing. Brent was finding it much easier to talk with Vince, now that he knew they had something in common. But Vince’s words about both of their feelings left him wondering, apprehensive about what was to happen next.

“So, your father. Some supportive, loving figure he is. I assume that you’re fully gay, not just bisexual?” Inquired Vince.

“Well, to be perfectly honest, I’ve never really felt an attraction to anyone before, until now, that is. So, I’d assume that I’m repressed gay, because of my father’s way of bringing me up. But he’s not all bad. He’s really a pretty good man, once you get to know him.”

“And by the sound of it, He’ll cut your tail off if he ever finds out.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

And then, both Brent and Vince laughed out loud. Brent felt so much more open around Vince than he had around anyone else at that moment. As if he were rushing into a perfect moment that wouldn’t end.

“So, what’s your major, kid?”

“’Kid’? I’m only six years younger than you!” Brent laughed.

“Heh heh! My question still stands.”
“Well, it’s, um, complicated.”

“Come on. I can take it.”

“Well, I think I wanna be an art major, but then I think about architecture and veer away from that into the thought of being an English major, but then I think about getting into a science major, like chemistry, and then I--”

“So you’ve just been too indecisive to actually pick one?”
“Yeah.”

“All right then. You’re an English major.”

“What? I don’t wanna be an English major!”

“Then that’s one less choice for you to pick from.”

“How did you--”

“If deep contemplation and/or consideration is keeping you from attaining your goal, then become superficial and look only on the surface.”

“That… actually makes sense.”

Brent and Vince continued their drive, for a while looking only ahead on the road and listening to the blaring noises of rock and reggae jumbled together. Vince kept driving, tapping his finger on the steering wheel with the beat of the music. The conversation didn’t feel as if it had stopped to Brent. At least, he didn’t want to feel as if it had stopped. It felt to him as if it was going through a momentary interlude.

And suddenly, they had arrived at Vince’s estate. A huge, white, veritable mansion.

“Whoa… How many servants do you have?” Brent stammered.

“Only a few. But, they’re not here right now. They get the holidays off, and I can clean up after myself. I don’t have any guests over during the holidays, either, so that helps. But I keep them around because they tend to make good company and allow me to get a little bit lazy. It’s rather lonely, living in such a dwelling by one’s self.” Vince explained.

“But, aren’t you worried that someone might try and break in?”

“Alarms, direct-to-police automatic phone line, and kung-fu.”

“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

Brent and Vince climbed the stairs up to the front door and entered the mansion. It was large, decorative, and intimidating. Brent could see why Vince preferred not to live alone, and wanted to change his focus of attention rather quickly.

“All right.” Brent said. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Hong-Kong Phooey.”

“I beg your pardon?” Vince chuckled.

“You said you know kung-fu. I’ve got a yellow belt. I forget where that ranks, exactly, but I’ve still got one.”

“Very well, then. Let’s humor each other, shall we?”

Brent made a rather pathetic jab at Vince, who quickly moved his head out of the way, grabbed Brent’s arm, twisted it, made Brent flip in the air, and forced him down on a couch that was near the doorway.

“By the way, Brent, a yellow belt is only just above a white belt, the lowest ranking belt there is.” Vince explained.

“I knew something felt unfair.” Brent said, still feeling dizzy, inundated, and seeing stars in his eyes. At least he had a soft landing.

“Now, may I fetch us some refreshments and change into something more casual?”

“Oh, sure, go right ahead. Just, uh, leave me lying on the couch. No, seriously, I mean it. I need time to make my head stop ringing.”

“Ha ha! Very well then. I’ll be right back.”

Vince strode off, leaving Brent lying there. After a minute or two, Brent was feeling better. He had got up, saying “I don’t think he’ll mind if I just go to the kitchen over there… I mean, I can just call his name or vice versa…”

Brent then headed towards a threshold that marked the beginning of the kitchen. There were no doors, just a large, missing portion of the left wall of the room which lead into the kitchen.

Once Brent got to the kitchen, he took his suit jacket and the vest underneath it off, leaving the white, button-up shirt. Brent pulled a chair from a table out, sat down, and began to think. He wondered why he was there, what he was doing, and just who in the hell he had driven home with. Brent was beginning to see the situation as some sort of romantic ruse or farce that he was being tricked into. And just why was he so trusting towards a wolf who was practically a total stranger? All of these questions started to burn in the back of his mind, until Vince came into the room in a light blue, polo T-shirt that was tucked in, and a pair of kaki pants with a brown belt. By this time, the constant rumination and rolling and reveling in these thoughts had enraged Brent. How could he have been so foolish? What in the hell was he doing?

“Well, hello, Brent. I see we’ve gotten better.” Vince teased.

“Why did you take me here? As part of some stupid, romantic, make-believe farce?” Brent’s words were biting. Vince was shocked.

“What are you talking about? I simply invited you here to chat, to talk!”

“Shut up!” Brent snapped. He didn’t know why or how he was feeling such frustration. He felt like a damn fool, though, for what he had done and for what he was saying. “I’m not gonna play into some rich guy’s game for kicks! I’m not gonna be your victim, or anyone else’s! I don’t know why I was so foolish as to let myself be reeled in by you!” At this point, Brent was standing, and Vince was absolutely shocked.

“Brent… How could you think such a thing?” Vince said, his voice resonating with hurt.

“Enough! I’m leaving!” Brent threatened. But he couldn’t leave. His legs wouldn’t let him, and his tail was between his legs, his heart thumping with betrayal. Vince’s face became blank. Captivated. He rushed towards Brent, slammed his hands down on the table behind him, and was right in front of Brent with a look of utmost determination, enthrallment, and captivation in his eyes, his arms on either side of Brent. Vince didn’t know why, or what he was feeling--he just knew that he had to have Brent, right then and there.

“Brent… Stop me… I beg of you, before it’s too late.” Vince pleaded, their eyes locked, intertwined together. Brent didn’t know how to respond. He was blushing as hard as he could and saw Vince blushing for the first time, as well. Both their tails were between their legs, their fur standing on end all over their body, their ears pricked in anticipation for what was to come. All that Brent could murmur or let escape his lips at that instant was “….No.”

Both their hearts beating as hard as they could. Every cell in their body tingling, begging for them to advance. They wanted each other. They needed each other. Brent stood their, motionless. His eyes fixated on Vince, who was making quick work of Brent’s button-up white shirt without even looking. Brent quickly snapped into action, grabbing at Vince’s belt buckle, struggling with it until it popped undone. Vince had now unbuttoned Brent’s shirt, which was sliding down Brent’s forearms. Brent was now struggling to pull Vince’s shirt out of its place, grabbing it and tearing it away from in between Vince’s body and his pants waste. Brent was working too slowly. By this time, Vince was already mostly finished with getting Brent’s pants undone. Brent then savagely ripped at Vince’s shirt, tearing it down the middle, exposing Vince’s muscular body, its fur standing up as if it were electrified. But Vince didn’t care. All he cared about at that moment was Brent. Brent grabbed at the button on Vince’s pants, tearing at it until it popped off. The zipper came down immediately, thus making Vince’s pants fall, revealing his lower body. At this time, Vince was standing still--the calm before the storm. But Brent could tell by glancing down that neither of them could afford to keep each other waiting very long. Their cocks were hard, out of their sheaths, the sheath contracting into the body as if it were never there in the first place. Even the slightest arousal could trigger this response. The only thing that kept them from touching each other were their under garments.

Brent stood there, staring down. Their members, at most, a centimeter away from touching each other, were almost the same size--save that Vince’s was slightly bigger. At that moment, Vince grinded himself against Brent’s body, and they both panted and embraced in a kiss. Brent’s fur was now standing up as straight as was possible. Their kiss was fiery, passionate, embracing.

“Heh… You’re bigger than most, Brent…” Vince panted, releasing the kiss for an instant. But Brent didn’t have any time to respond. Vince was kissing Brent’s neck, sending chills of pleasure down his spine. Vince slowly moved his kisses downward towards Brent’s boxers. He lustfully tore them off, his mouth grabbing at Brent’s pink, excited cock. Brent cried out in pleasure as the embrace of Vince’s mouth touched him in a way he never though possible. Vince’s tongue felt as if it were a lightning bolt of pleasure, moving up and down Brent’s member so quickly, so methodically. Vince, in his current position, crouched down on his knees, didn’t even have to be able to hear or see to tell that Brent was moaning in utmost pleasure. His hips bucking, his body tingling from his paws to his tail to his hands, to every part of his being, to its core and back again.

Brent’s right hand was now resting on Vince’s head. Vince stopped for just an instant, giving Brent the smallest respite from the pleasure, just before Vince took Brent’s entire member into his mouth. Brent couldn’t help but become primal for an instant and howl out in pleasure. He felt that something was coming. Something huge. Since before he howled. Brent started to pant and breath extremely heavily. His heart was pounding faster than ever before. Vince was using his hand now as well. At that very instant, Vince drew his head back, moved it to the side, and began to lick Bent’s member again as it erupted and Brent howled again, this time even louder than the first.

Brent couldn’t think or notice anything at that instant. Vince quickly got to his feet, tearing of the remains of his shirt, tearing off his boxers. Before Brent could snap into reality and realize what it was that Vince was doing, Vince grabbed the backs of Brent’s thighs, pulling them back and upwards, forcing Brent’s back to slam onto the table behind him. Brent couldn’t have noticed any pain, if there was any, as far as he was concerned. Brent quickly looked up to see Vince, still grabbing his thighs, pulling them beside him, exposing Brent’s ass, his tail hanging in the air below the table.

Vince hesitated for the slightest fraction of a second be fore taking action. He quickly thrust himself into Brent, grinding and throwing himself into Brent. Vince’s upper body fell down upon Brent’s as he did this, his head landing on the upper portion of Brent’s chest. Vince thrust harder and harder, his body giving all it had into the motion, while Vince, his tongue hanging out, himself blushing, was panting harder than ever before. Brent was howling in pleasure yet again, every nerve in his body erupting, reveling in it. Vince’s pelvis and body kept grinding against Brent’s. He had been trying to suppress it, trying to keep some shred of dignity in what he was doing, but he couldn’t help it any longer. Vince howled as loud as he could, his voice resonating throughout the house, inside of him, inside of Brent.

At that instant, Brent felt something coming again as Vince was grinding against him. Brent’s member erupted yet again, spewing seed all over his and Vince’s bellies. Where clean, grey and white fur once was, it looked as it someone had sprayed milk all over. Every part of Brent’s body cringed and tightened, and Vince felt it too--he was soon to join this orgasmic conclusion. Vince could feel Brent’s anus tighten and his own grinding hasten, going deeper and faster than before. Their bodies were going as hard and as fast as they could. They were keeping each other on the edge of ecstasy. They both howled as loud as they possibly could as Vince raced into an explosive orgasm. Seed dribbled out onto the table, still coming more and more as Vince drove both of their bodies to keep going, until pleasure overwhelmed them. He was determined to have it no other way.

They kept going until Vince felt that he could go no more. He had made a mess of them both, sperm spilled all over the both of them. As Brent was panting and Vince was having a moment’s reprieve, he managed to speak. Brent wanted to take an initiative that he never thought that he would have again.

“Pant… pant…pant… Vince… get on the table… face down…” Brent barely managed to put the words out. His determination was the only thing that allowed them through.

“Pant…pant… pant…pant…Sure… if … you can… move…” Vince replied.

Brent grabbed hold of Vince’s upper body, and tried to move it. Realizing that Brent couldn’t do it on his own, Vince helped by forcing his arms to move himself. Brent moved his legs so that Vince could get around, and after a few more movements, Vince’s upper body was lying face down on the table next to Brent, his legs dangling in the air, his legs bent at an angle as his feet touched the ground, his tail in between his legs. Brent forced himself up, panting and gasping as he slowly moved behind Brent. After Vince’s performance, he would have to become hard again.

Brent sank down on one knee behind Vince, grabbing his tail and holding it up. They were both beginning to vigorously pant again. Brent then forced his snout into Vince’s ass, and began licking.

“Uh… ngh… nn…” Vince’s heart was beating again. His fur standing more on end. He was becoming hard once more. His member re-emerging from its sheath, becoming bigger and throbbing. The same was happening for Brent, his cock emerging and becoming hard.

Brent stood up as best he could and prepared to ram himself into Vince. He took Vince’s tail in his mouth, biting down on it. Brent then grinded himself against Vince’s ass and inside of it. It felt amazing, as if he were being touched for the first time in an entirely new way from the way Vince had. He kept slamming himself into Vince, moaning and gasping and panting. Vince was moaning as well, his body throbbing all over as Brent worked his way inside over and over again. Vince clawed at the table, the pleasure building and mounting. Brent could feel that this was the climax. They both could. After the events that had transpired before, and Vince’s refusal to stop until they both came multiple times, this was their climax. The epitome of their pleasure.

Brent kept going and going until they both erupted, making an absolute mess of each other and the table. They were finally finished. With nothing left to spare, they both drifted into sleep as Brent released Vince’s tail from his mouth and fell on Vince, his member still immersed inside of him.

Brent woke up. He was extremely surprised by his surroundings. Someone’s kitchen? And who was he on top o--oh, god.

“Tell me I didn’t… Oh, please tell me I didn’t…”

Brent glanced down, seeing the dried up seed in his and Vince’s fur, the tip of his now mostly flaccid member still inside of Vince.

“Oh, but I did… And was that in there all night…?”

Brent tried to stand up straight and remember what had happened. The base of his back was unbelievably sore as he stood up. He remembered being driven to Vince’s house, lying on the couch, yelling at Vince… and then what?

“Oh, wait, I remember now… We, uh, had sex…” Brent stammered. The experience and positions and feelings rushed back into Brent’s mind. The thought of his first time and Vince lying there, his upper body still suspended on the table made him have some unclean desires. Staring at Vince, he quickly realized that they were both naked, and Brent grabbed for his clothes. But he couldn’t put them on, not the with the current way that his fur was. Brent held them out in front of him, and tried to sit down in a chair near him in order to clear his head, and quickly decided that that was a bad move on his part. Brent stood up instead, contemplating on where a shower might be. He stepped out of the kitchen and into a hallway with several doors in it, checking each one for a shower, until he found one.

Brent stepped inside of the bathroom, a large, beige, tiled room with a counter that had cabinets beneath the surface of it, a toilet, and a shower. Seeing the toilet, Brent quickly realized that he had to pee. He stepped over to the toilet, setting his clothes down on the counter beside him, and released his load into the toilet and flushed. Brent then made his way to the shower in order to wash off his fur. His tail was between his legs, his body trembling all over from embarrassment and shock at what--or rather who--he had done the previous night. And then a thought struck him. A thought of regret.

“Damn it! I finally lose my virginity, but if I tell Felicia, I’ll be in huge trouble! Why must the universe bitch slap me so?” Brent said to himself angrily. He and Felicia had a bet. If Brent could lose his virginity before he was twenty, have proof of sexual intercourse, have the person with him when he told her, show the condom (if used) and proof of STD (if any), then Felicia would have to buy Brent something. Something gigantic. Felicia readily accepted the bet, the losing side for Brent being that he would have to go out in public dressed in drag for his twentieth birthday. Brent cursed himself deeply. If he told Felicia, then word would get to their parents. Felicia could never keep a secret.

Brent sighed and stepped into the shower, turning on the warm, comforting water. He grabbed a washcloth from the railing on which hung the curtain of the shower and then grabbed some shampoo and commenced with washing the semen out of his fur. It was mostly dried in, which didn’t make the process any easier. He had to scrub his stomach hard in order to make it clean. Then there was the unpleasant matter of cleaning other areas of his body.

Once Brent had finished, he shook himself mostly dry and stepped out of the shower. He then proceeded to drying himself completely.

Before Brent could wrap the towel around his waste, Vince came into the room, still completely naked, his fur ruffled and messy all over, saying “My turn.”

“What the hell!?” Brent yelled, hastily bringing the towel over his midsection.

“Oh, is there really any point in doing that anymore, Brent? I mean, seriously. Been there, done that, have to wash the sperm out of my fur.” Vince curtly replied. Brent was now turning beat red. He was blushing quite a bit, lately. But now, he was mortified.

“Shut up! At least you can sit down!”

“Do even remember the last pose that we were in before we went to sleep?”

“Oh, uh, yeah… But why don’t you have your clothes?”

“Because somebody became rather feral and tore them to shreds.”

“Right, right, I remember now. But, can you please step out of the way of the door so that I can leave? It’s rather awkward talking to someone when we’re both naked.” Brent said.

“All right, have it your way. But no crazy post-sex bathroom sex?”

“I’m just going to walk away now.” Bren responded.

“There’s a change of clothes in the closet of the bedroom next door, if you’re so inclined.”

“Then why didn’t you just change into those before coming in here?”

“Because then it wouldn’t be as fun to see you embarrassed, stammering, blushing for the thousandth time, and a multitude of other things, including the fact that I have to wash my fur.”

“You’re an ass in the mornings.” Brent said curtly as he walked through the entrance to the bathroom, his tail between his legs out of embarrassment. He proceeded across the hallway and into the bedroom, a large room with white walls and a queen sized bed with a closet on the end of one of the walls. He could here the shower starting. Brent began to think about Vince in the shower, then forced himself to ward the thoughts away. He opened the closet and saw just how big a walk-in closet could be. It was large enough for Brent to live in, and he was sure that it was slightly bigger than his apartment. He selected a button-up, dark blue dress shirt and black kaki pants. The outfit was a bit large on Brent, but he was sure that it was because of Vince’s muscular frame and him being slightly shorter than Vince. The pants were sagging, so Brent chose a black leather belt to wear. He thought of tucking in the dress shirt, but decided against it, thinking that it would make him and Vince look too similar. Brent rolled up the sleeves and then started to wonder why they had gotten to sex on what wasn’t even their first date. He was sure that it was… well, something.

Brent walked out of the walk-in closet, hearing the shower turn off. Vince was very different than his calm, cool, collected and friendly self in the mornings. He was sarcastic, slightly biting, somewhat blunt. Brent decided that if he ever had sex with Vince and woke up earlier again that he would leave and wouldn’t come back again until noon.

“Wait, what am I thinking? Again? Why did I instantly jump to ‘woke up earlier again’? I’m crazy.” Brent told himself. At that moment, Vince came into the room, this time actually wearing a towel.

“And don’t you look rather dashing this morning in my clothing?” Vince teased. Brent took an instant to be thankful that Vince was wearing a towel around his waste. As Vince walked by, Brent’s heart beat more quickly as he saw that Vince’s tail was holding up the entire hind section of the towel.

“Damn it! Are you never properly clothed?!” Brent yelled.

“Will you always PMS the morning after sex?” Vince responded.

“Stop bringing that up!” Brent said, blushing for the thousandth time since entering Vince’s house.

“What’s the matter, Brent? I thought that you rather liked it.”

“Okay, get some coffee or something. Your morning self is starting to piss me off.”

“Very well, then. As you wish.” Vince responded as he walked past Brent yet again with his tail suspending the back portion of the towel.

“Get dressed first!”

“So indecisive. No wonder you can’t pick your major.” Vince responded as he entered the walk-in closet, coming out a minute later in a casual, white V-neck shirt and blue jeans, the V-neck, of course being tucked into the jeans.

“Don’t you think that you’re a bit overdressed for breakfast, Brent?” Vince said.

“I didn’t see anything that looked cheaper than this in there, and it looks damn good on me, thank you.” Brent replied, walking out the door with Vince following behind him. They walked down the hallway and back into the kitchen, where the table from last night greeted them.

“Oh… that’s… nice…” Brent said, a grimace sinking into his expression.

“You’d better think so, because we’ll have to clean it up, right after I’ve had my coffee. And don’t worry, I’m not nearly as much of an ‘ass’ after I’m fully awake. This is why I need coffee every morning.” Vince said, walking around the table and to a coffee maker on the green, marble top counter.

“I’d rather not…”

“Either we clean it up with rags or we clean it up by making you do something sick and fetishlike.”

“Rags it is, then.”

Once Vince had his mug of coffee in his hands, he stood there for a few seconds, looking at Brent. Brent was looking back, wondering what it was that was making Vince look at him, until Vince chugged the coffee. Brent stood there, amazed that Vince could so readily swallow such scalding hot liquid.

“There, I’m awake. Now let’s clean this disgusting thing up, shall we?” Vince said, his eyes slightly bulging from the coffee.

“Um, yeah. Where are the rags? And rubber gloves?”

“Oh, they’re in that drawer over there. Stay here, I’ll get them.”

“Thanks.”

Vince walked across the room and opened a drawer, pulling out four rubber gloves and a few rags. He put two of the gloves on, went to the sink and wet the rags, and finally came back to Brent, presenting two gloves and a rag. Brent put them on and thanked Vince, grabbed a rag and commenced with wiping the edge of the table where they had lain the night before. Vince took to wiping the floor, and finished the moment before Brent finished the table. They then both disposed of the materials used.

“Now, aren’t we responsible? Cleaning up our own sex-induced mess.” Brent remarked.

“I thought that you didn’t like to be reminded of it.” Vince said.

“I don’t, but I thought that I’d at least have a laugh about it.”

“Speaking of sex-induced, shouldn’t we check ourselves for STD’s?”

“And since when were you the one to say something responsible? From what I remember, it was you who got us both going in the first place.”

“If I recall correctly, you lashed out at me, which, quite honestly, I rather liked, and then I came onto you and told you to stop me, but you refused.”

“Oh, shut up. What’s for breakfast?”

“Anything that you can grab from the refrigerator.”

Brent stepped over towards the fridge, opening the door and grabbing a small portion of ham from it. Vince grabbed another portion of ham, his slightly larger.

“Is everything that you have bigger than either me or mine?” Brent asked, staring at Vince’s slice of ham.

“Ah, so you remember looking down there.” Vince chuckled.

“Be quiet. If I remember correctly, you said that I was bigger than most. Anything that you would like to elaborate upon about whatever that particular statement implies?”

“Very well, then. When I was your age, I knew quite a few gay wolves, who were more than happy to let me ‘experiment’ with myself. With their help, of course. But I’ve never felt any sort of attraction towards one. That is, until now.”

“Hey, you’ve talked about my dad before, but what about your family? How did they react, finding out that their son was gay?”

Vince sighed.

“I haven’t told them a thing. My step father is a very religious man. He’d never accept me. My mother and father are both paranoid about me breeding, because I’m their only son in a group of five.”

“Wait, your step father or your real father?”

“Both. We’re practically of royal lineage in the modern world, excelling at whatever it is that we do, and usually we’re forced to pursue a career in business. We were practically the only rich family that held their own, and even grew more profitable during the great depression.”

“Then shouldn’t you be in grad school?”

“No. I graduated.”

“Seriously? At twenty-five?”

“I’m very good at what I do, Brent.”

“Shouldn’t you be busy right now then?”

“The stock market is a very powerful thing, Brent. I can make money without having to go to work.”

“Just what in the hell is it that you do anyway?”

“Owner of a multi-million dollar corporation.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but the plot says that I am.”

Brent and Vince then proceeded to eating. The meal went rather slowly, Brent constantly glancing Vince throughout, while Vince stared out the window.

“So, now that our one-night stand is over, what do we do?” Asked Brent.

“I beg your pardon? One-night stand? Why, I don’t think that you quite get it, Brent. We belong to each other. Despite what we’ve done, these feelings haven’t gone away. In fact, it’d be more accurate to say that we belong to our feelings and urges for each other. I request--no, I command--that you stay here, with me. And plus, we’ve just started talking to each other. It would be most unfortunate for us to cut our ties like this.”

“So, you’re basically saying that we’re a couple that’s driven by primal urges and feelings for each other and that you want me to move in with you so that our relationship doesn’t die out?”

“You get the gist of it, I see.”

“Sorry, but I’ve got an apartment to upkeep, and lots of other stuff that’s mine. I can’t just move in with you.”

“Of course you can. I can have that apartment of yours emptied out and the contents brought to my estate.”

“It’s oh so convenient to be rich, isn’t it?”

“Very much so.”

“Fine, I’ll stay at your ritzy little ‘estate’. I just need a promise that you won’t tell anyone.”

“And vice versa.”

“You have my word, believe me.”

Brent and Vince then finished their breakfast.

“So… now what?” Asked Brent. “I really hadn’t thought of what I would do after I came here.”

As Brent rounded the corner, he could see the lunch hour rush coming in. The cars were driving by, people whizzing by each other on the streets, each one more self-absorbed by their life or trying to seem busier or more than the last. He made his way through the crowd, panting and pushing against the wave of people. Brent kept hearing things like “Hey, look where yer going!” or “Watch it, wolf boy.” and “Move out of the way, dumb ass!”

He rounded another corner, bringing him two blocks away from the café the he planned on entering, which was entitled “The New Spring”. Unlike many dining establishments on that street, it had thrived despite its competition from the countless other establishments around it. This had always been Felicia’s favorite café, but Brent couldn’t say that he enjoyed it as much as she had. Felicia had made it a meeting place for the both of them, regardless of what they were planning to discuss.

Next, Brent had to cross the street. He’d need luck to pull this off. At this time of day, people were always rushing down the street. Whether it be in cars, motorcycles or walking, there was always a heard of people that didn’t take too fondly to solicitors, and usually ended up causing accidents. Brent set foot on the very edge of the road, waiting for the next red light to pop on. It was on yellow now, which, to these people, instead of “slow down” meant “speed up so that you can get there before you have to slow down”. A few more seconds. Three. Two. One. Stop. All of the cars came to a screeching halt as they became a jumble on all four lanes of yelling, cursing, and threats. Brent quickly took this opportunity and crossed the intersection.

As soon as he crossed, Brent bumped into a pig, and heard the man say “Watch it, wolf face!” Some bright, welcoming town he lived in. After this, headed down the street even further and brought himself right in front of the desired location.

“It’s about time.” Brent said to himself. He was tired of walking at this point, and was simply eager to talk with Felicia. Brent stepped inside the store and ordered himself a latte and sat down. Felicia wasn’t there yet. As he waited, he drank half of the latte. Still no sign of her. Brent began to wonder if something bad had happened to his step sister. Was she run over by the traffic? Beaten by muggers? Or something even worse? No, he mustn’t entertain those thoughts. Brent wasn’t one for superstition, but he feared that they might somehow jinx him. He waited for another five minutes before getting up and attempting to walk out the door to the café and going to look for her, when Felicia sprang through the door right in front of him. Brent nearly suffered heart attack, as against his will, he embarrassed himself by yipping like a pup in surprise. A few denizens of the café snickered.

“Felicia!” Brent snapped. “Why are you so late!?”

“Well, I’m sorry if I had to walk here!” Felicia snapped back.

“I walked here and I managed to arrive on time.”

“I live further away, thank you! And I have to tread lightly, so as not to damage my claws! I’m sorry if I’m conscious of my appearance, unlike some people who look like their fur’s all ruffled and messed up like they spent all night having--oh, Brent, you did it!”

“No. No, I didn’t.” Brent quickly lied. He cursed himself for not tending to his fur that morning.

“Don’t lie! You remember our deal, right? Show me the condom! But, uh, keep it in your hands.”

“I told you, I didn’t have sex last night!”

“Brent, shut up! You’re drawing too much attention!”

Brent glared at Felicia. He knew it was true that he caused it, but he was angry and mortified that she brought it up. Brent’s tail sank between his legs and a grimace appeared on his face as he herded Felicia out of the café.

“Brent, handle your scenes, don’t just run away from them.” Felicia said with a grin on her face.

“Why do you enjoy doing that to me so much?” Brent sighed.

“Why? Because I love to damage a male’s delicate ego. Especially one that’s of a species that’s known to be big, bad, and intimidating.”

“You’re a bitch, you know that?”

“You’ve told me on several occasions.”

“I just think that you need to be reminded, is all.”

“So… did you?”

“Did I wh--I keep telling you, no!!!”

“Jeez! Okay! I admit that you’re still a virgin and won’t be winning the bet!”

“I never said that I wouldn’t be winning the bet!”

“Oh? Do you have plans for the whore down the street? Wow, Brent, I didn’t think that platypuses were your type. And, sorry to burst your bubble, but I’ve heard that she’s a lesbian.”

“Shut. Up. Now.” Brent said, covering his forehead with his hand.

“Very well, then.” Felicia said. Then Brent flashed back to images of Vince. He groaned.

“He says the exact same thing…”

“Who?”
“Oh, uh, just somebody that I met at the party.”

“Oh. Okay, then. So, what did you want to talk about?”

Finally, the verbal bitch slapping was over. Brent could simply relax and talk.

“You know, stuff. It’s been forever since we did that.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said over the phone. But is there any particular ‘stuff’ that you would care to discuss?”

“Did you get a new videogame?”

“Only like, fifty!”

“Do tell.”

Brent was always amused by hearing Felicia talk about gaming. When Felicia had just moved in with Brent and his father, she immediately noticed Brent’s game system, which he seldom used at that point in time. Brent’s father had bought if for his birthday the year before and loaded it up with games, but Brent never saw the appeal of it. Felicia would play for hours, killing demons, fighting mages, boxing with virtual pros, racing, and a variety of other things. Since Brent and Felicia found it very awkward to talk to each other at that point, Felicia used games as a topic starter. She would tell Brent about the latest Climactic Fable game, or the plot of games like Time Trigger, and so much more. The way Felicia told them--as if she were an excited child at the base of a Christmas tree, it was as if she was breathing life into the story itself. This trait carried on with her over the years, and never changed in style once. And that was how Brent liked it.

“So, I got this old game, Nation Souls, and it’s totally awesome!” Felicia exclaimed.

“Sounds like a fantasy.” Brent replied, his ears intent on Felicia’s story.

“It is. But, you see, it has Waltney characters in it!”
“Waltney? Seriously?”

“Totally! You get to fight alongside famous Waltney heroes and villains, like Ronald Swan, and that hunter guy from Tarzun!”

“Sounds… unique.”

“Yeah, and you get this weapon, called the Lockblade. It’s really cool!”

The conversation continued as Felicia went on excitedly explaining the plot to Brent, and all of the different aspects of the game. She talked about how to fight, how to use cheat codes, and how to perform various other tasks. By the time Felicia was finished, Brent could tell someone how to gather all of the chaos keyholes and create the master keyhole.

“So, what do you want to do now? We’ve talked. Want to head over to an arcade? We haven’t done that since we were, like, fifteen!” Felicia suggested.

“All right, but I’m not letting you trick me into placing bets on Road Brawler matches!” Brent replied.

“Those were totally fair! I didn’t rig them or anything! And you’d been playing that game since we got there!”

“Yeah, but I was up against you.”

“Ah, I see what you mean.”

Felicia was a good gamer, and she knew it. In her younger teen years, Felicia won many things from Brent via gaming matches. She would always raise his hopes, making him think that he could win, despite the multiple losses that he had suffered before, and crush them in with defeat. And usually, it was quick, harsh, and painful defeat. Brent always cursed himself for being so foolish.

“Last one there has to pay for all the games. I hope you have plenty of quarters!” Brent yelled over his shoulder as he took off, the pads of his feet hitting the ground.

“Hey! I thought we talked about this! Brent, that’s not fair!” Felicia screamed back as she desperately tried to catch up to Brent. Once they both arrived at the arcade, Brent suffered a bit more verbal neutering in public for his actions. He thought that he should have really known better by then. No one at the arcade appeared to be over thirteen. Brent and Felicia felt slightly embarrassed and out of place, but couldn’t wait to see that town’s arcade. When Brent and Felicia moved away to college, they chose a college that was out of state and very, very far away from their home town. The both of them still met up, but never got around to checking out the new town’s arcade.

“I call dibs on that one!” Felicia said, the look of an excited child on her face.

“Then I guess I’ll take this one.” Brent stated, a look of slight anticipation on his face. The only games that Brent could play well were over ten years old. As he sat down at the Total Mayhem machine, Brent put one of Felicia’s quarters in and began playing. About five minutes into the game, Brent noticed that the few girls in the arcade, all of which twelve or thirteen, started giggling in the corner and glancing at him. A wolf girl looked over at Brent and giggled, and he saw out of the corner of his eye and turned to look at them, only to see them trying not to be noticed. The instant he turned his head back to the game, they all turned back into a circle and squealed quietly.

As Felicia rounded the corner, the girls all glared at her.

“Brent, I need more change if I want to beat Brawser!” Felicia explained holding out her shaking hand. Brent laughed a little, as he could tell that she was already unhealthily addicted.

“All right, here.” Brent said, pouring some change into Felicia’s shaky, outstretched hand as her eyes watched eagerly.

“Kay thanks by!” Felicia exclaimed as she darted back around the game machines, quicker than Brent had ever seen her move before. He hypothesized that something about Murio must have been extremely detrimental to Felicia’s mental state. Brent shrugged and kept playing. A soon as Felicia left, he swore that he could feel a fog of resentment lifting from the atmosphere. He didn’t know what it could be, but he remembered that the girls in the corner never once giggled while Felicia was in his presence.

Brent pulled his phone out of his pocket, and glanced at the clock. It was 3:30 PM.

“I should really get back to Vince’s house, but I’m sure that he’ll understand.” Brent said. He continued playing for all of two minutes before he regretted his decision, rushed to the exit of the arcade, giving Felicia all the quarters she would need and telling her that he had to go, and rushed out of the arcade. He stopped running after about four blocks or so, telling himself that he shouldn’t be so worried.

At that point, Vince noticed two people--a male coyote and a male black wolf--holding hands, walking shoulder to shoulder down the street. The coyote whispered something into the black wolf’s ear, and as they passed by Brent, the black wolf laughed and said to the coyote, “Oh, shut up, that V-neck was hot!” Brent chuckled and moved on, and found himself thinking about the two of them. He noticed that he rather fancied the coyote and wolf. Brent didn’t know whether or not it was a good thing or a bad thing that he was finally noticing other men than Vince or not. He brushed the thought away and moved on, and in about fifteen minutes of walking, Brent was in a more suburban part of the city where Vince’s estate was. He saw a moving truck outside of the mansion, most likely containing all of his things.

Brent walked up the walkway and up the steps and into Vince’s mansion. Vince was nowhere to be seen. Brent tried calling Vince’s name around the house being careful not to get lost, but to no avail. When Brent was in the same hallway on the first floor that he walked through that morning, he heard music. Ska music.

“Oh, so that’s where he is.” Brent said to himself as he walked down the hallway, the music growing louder and louder until he passed a doorway and it faded in volume. He went back to the door and opened it, exposing a work out room that looked like it was once a bedroom. There were weights of all kinds, a stereo system, running machines, and just about every other exercise implement that one could buy. Brent saw Vince in the left corner of the back of the room, using a biking machine. Vince was wearing a dark blue, skin tight tank top and black, skin tight shorts. He was panting as he pedaled onward, unmoving. As Brent came over to him, Vince pedaled for a minute or two more while Brent stood there, watching Vince’s muscular legs work.

“Phew, done with that. So, Brent, where have you been all day? You missed lunch.” Vince said, panting.

“What are you, my wife? I was with my step sister at the arcade, for your information.” Brent replied.

“Oh, that’s nice. Come over here, I’ll let you pedal in front. I’ll have to wrap my arms around you, though.”

“No. Thank you. I don’t want to get all hot and panting while working my legs and buttocks with you sitting behind me in skin tight clothing with your arms wrapped around me and your body pressed against mine.”

“I didn’t say that last part.” Vince said, a grin spreading from one end of his mouth. “And Brent, you’re blushing and have your hand against the front of your pants, as if it were trying to hold something back.”

“Sh-shut up!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I being an ass again?”

“You know, I’m starting to not mind it, really…”

“Good, then I can stop pretending to be mister polite.”

“Vince, what are you doing in here, anyway?”

“Did you seriously think that I got this physique by sitting in front of a computer all day, checking my gmail and stocks? If I were on any sort of proper diet, I’d be rediculously bulging with muscles. But, thankfully, my lavished lifestyle has made sure that that doesn’t happen.”

Then, Brent’s cell phone rang. He lifted it up to his ear and greeted the person calling. Next, a look of shock, fear, and disbelief spread across Brent’s face.

“Brent, what’s wrong?” Vince asked, a look of urgency on his face.

“It’s… Felicia… my sister… she’s just been run over.” Said Brent, his voice shaking vigorously. “I need a ride to the hospital, now!”

Vince wordlessly grabbed the clothes sitting beside him and wrenched Brent’s arm in order to set Brent into sprinting out of the room at a breakneck pace.

Vince, still in his exercising clothes, drove the car as fast as he could. Brent was shaking in the seat next to him, his eyes trembling and brimming with tears inside of their sockets. He was trying his damnedest to avoid the worst thoughts, but just found that he couldn’t. What if Felicia died before he got there? What if she had to had limbs taken off? What if she became brain damaged? What if she wasn’t the same Felicia that he knew and loved when she recovered? A few tears trickled through Brent’s fur as he thought of this.

“Hey. Whatever you’re thinking of, stop it. Now.” Vince said firmly.

“But… what if she--” Brent sobbed.

“She won’t be! Trust me, Brent, she’ll be fine!” Vince yelled.

“You don’t know that!”

“Maybe I don’t, but she wouldn’t want you to kill yourself over something that happened to her!”

Brent was hushed at this. His tears kept flowing, but he was slightly less shaken. Vince’s words had brought sincerity and encouragement into Brent’s mind, if only a little. Brent glanced over at Vince, who had his eyes straight on the road, focused at all times. Brent knew that from Vince’s estate to the hospital was a very long way. He glanced at the speedometer, which read at a striking one-hundred twenty-five miles per hour. They would get there within fifteen minutes if Vince kept that speed. Brent calmed down slightly.

Vince, with a hard, serious expression on his face, was unchanging at the wheel. His fur was bristling, his eyes focused on the road as if it were his pray. Vince’s tail was poking out beside him from his seat, kept flitting about in the air, as if he were actually preparing to strike a potential next meal. Brent, however, had his fur still in a mess from that morning. His tears were staining Vince’s shirt and pants as he hung his head down.

“Brent… would you like to hear some music?” Vince said, the expression on his face softening.

“It’s… It’s fine, really.” Brent choked out

“You mustn’t let this kill you, Brent.” Vince told him, a tone of thoughtfulness of the highest level in his voice.

“I know. You, uh, told me earlier.”

“I want to make sure that you know that, Brent. If you want to run away from here, that’s fine. If you want to mourn for a while, that’s fine. Just don’t let it hang over your head for the rest of your life.”

Brent was silent. He put his head up against the window, a few tears still streaming down his face and through his fur. Vince sighed and kept driving. The hard look on his face had completely faded, as if he were feeling the utmost compassion for Brent but couldn’t show it. He sustained his speed and kept going. After a while, the serious look on Vince’s face became prominent yet again. At this point, they were five minutes away from the hospital as the city buildings raced by them. Brent looked up and was surprised that Vince wasn’t being caught for speeding. He then looked back and saw a few police following them. Brent sighed and looked forward. They were now nearing the hospital, and Brent’s mind was in an uproar of fear and worry.

“Wh-what if she’s--” Brent stammered.

“I don’t want to hear it, Brent. Have some faith, will you?” Said Vince.

As soon as Vince stopped the car, Brent frantically worked at opening the door and getting out. He didn’t even notice that Vince wasn’t following as the police drew nearer. Brent burst through the doors of the hospital and over to the desk where he asked about the room where Felicia was.

“She’s not able to see anyone, at the moment, sir.” Said the worker, a female sheep who was slightly over weight.

“All right, just tell me which room she’s in!” Brent snapped back.

“In room 312.”

“Thanks!” Brent said as he dashed away, taking the stairs rather than the elevator. He didn’t trust it to get him there fast enough. At his top speed, Brent was fast enough to rival an Olympic runner. He had participated in his track and field team during high school and won most of the state championships. By the time Brent was to the top of the stairs, he was beginning to tear up again. He dashed down the hallway, and slowed to a stop at Felicia’s door. Brent saw doctors putting her arm and leg into casts. He held in a scream as he frantically turned away and slammed his back to the wall and sank down, hugging his knees. Brent was crying again.

After a few minutes, a gazelle, who was a nurse walking through the hallways, spotted Brent and made him go back down to the waiting room.

“Sir, what are you doing here? The patient who I think you’re trying to see is in care right now! Would it happen to be that cat in there?”

“Yes.” Brent sobbed.

“Then I’m going to have to redirect you to the waiting room.” She said in a monotone voice. Brent grudgingly obeyed and went down the stairs to the waiting room, a few tears still running through the fur on his face. At about six o’clock he looked up and noticed his parents entering the room, his mother absolutely hysterical and his father trying to comfort her with a look of deep concern on his face. Brent’s father looked over, saw Brent, and quickly guided his wife towards Brent.

“Son! How is Felicia? Is she all right? We came from the air port as soon as we got the call!” Brent’s father exclaimed. Brent was somewhat surprised to see them.

“Oh, she’s fine. She has to have casts put on. And I wasn’t exactly with her during the accident.” Brent said, his voice still heavy with worry.

“Oh, ooohhh my baby! My baby’s hurt! Let me see her!” Felicia’s mother sobbed into his father’s chest.

“Yes, dear. I’ll ask the woman at the desk.”

Brent’s father walked towards the sheep sitting behind the counter and asked her about Felicia, only to receive the same reply as Brent did. His step mother sobbed into his father’s shoulder even louder. Brent walked his father and his mother back down to a pair of seats and sat them down. His mother continued to sob while his father continued to console her.

“Sh-she didn’t look too bad when I saw her in the operation room before the nurse found me and brought me back down here.” Brent sated, trying to comfort his father and mother.

“Take me to her! Take me to her now!” Felicia’s mother cried.

“Honey, honey you have to calm down. She’ll be fine.” His father said. He was trying to keep his wife from breaking completely down.

“How do you know that!?” She cried back. Brent immediately flashed back to Vince and himself riding in the car on the way to the hospital. He immediately ran outside in order to see if Vince was still there.

“Brent, where are you--” His father said, but was quickly interrupted and occupied by Felicia’s mother’s sobbing.

Brent ran outside only to see an empty street curb in front of the hospital. He desperately ran around the hospital in order to check the parking lot. Brent ran through the row of cars until he saw Vince’s black, somewhat old looking car. He ran to it, saying Vince’s name. It was covered in tickets and fines.

“Vince! Are you still in there? Answer me!” Brent yelled as he knocked on the window. The door of the car opened and Vince stepped out, now dressed in his white V-neck which was tucked into his jeans.

“What do you need, Brent? Should I come inside with you?” Vince asked, a tone of utter sincerity in his voice.

“Maybe. I don’t know. Felicia’s mother is totally freaking out that she’s hurt, and my dad’s too busy trying to console her.” Brent explained. In all of Felicia’s years of being his sister, Brent had never grown too fond of her mother.

“I’ll come in, then. If that’s what you want me to do.”

“I just feel like I need someone stable right now. It’d be nice to just talk to you, after all of the drama that’s transpired.”

“Very well, then--”

“Heh. You always say that.” Brent had mostly stopped crying by now.

“Beg your pardon?” Said Vince, his eyebrows inquisitively raised.

“I mean, you speak so… properly all the time. Like we’re totally formal with each other. If you ask me, we’re the most informal couple there is. I mean, we had sex on our first night that we got to talking with each other.” Brent was starting to laugh. Vince smiled sincerely at Brent, relieved to see a smile on his face. He hugged Brent, and Brent buried his face in Vince’s chest. Brent’s comment had brought them both relief, and they were simply happy to be together.

“Well, I’m sorry if you have a problem with the way I speak, Brent. At this point, it can‘t be changed too easily.” Vince chuckled.

“Yeah, I know. I just find it kinda funny, is all. We had sex, but you still talk to me as if we’re making a business deal.” Brent said as he began to smile.

“Well, growing up in business can do that to someone. And did you just say that we were a couple, Brent? Isn’t this moving rather quickly?”
“Yeah. I guess I did. But really, we’ve got these feelings for each other, and who else do we really have?”

“You speak the truth well, Brent. On a related note, you seldom call me by name. Why is that?”

“Oh, uh, your name starts with, like, a p or something, right?” Brent said.

“Heh heh. All right, smart ass. It’s Vince. Next time, I’ll whip you and make you say it before you can top me again.”

“Do I hear a decline in speech? Vince, you’re trying for me. Ain’t it sweet?”

“Oh, shut up, you.” Vince laughed.

“It’s much appreciated.” Brent said as he drew his head back until their noses were touching. Then, Brent kissed Vince, sweeter and more passionately than he had the night before. Brent liked this kind of kissing even better. It was soft, sincere, sweet and passionate, without the kind of primal, hungry, passionate kiss that they had given each other before they had had sex the night before.

Brent drew back from the kiss once more and looked Vince in they eyes, both of them with looks of utmost sincerity and happiness in their eyes and smiles.

“Thanks. For not letting me break down back there.” Brent said to Vince.

“You don’t need to thank me. It felt like something that I just had to do, seeing you sit there, sobbing like that. I wish I could’ve done it in a nicer way. I’m sorry.” Vince said.

“Don’t be. I don’t know what I’d be like right now if you hadn’t been so stern with me.”

“Thanks, Brent, for being so loveable. I don’t know what I’d be like right now if you weren’t around.”

“Hey. Tomorrow, let’s go out. All of these accelerated emotions are no fun unless we vent them a little bit.”

“Agreed. You pick the time and place, and I’ll make it happen.”
“The beach. All day. As soon as you wake up, come and get me and we’ll go there. We can worry about the sand and salt crystals in our fur afterwards. All that matters when we’re there is us.”

“It’s a date. Brent, I hate to kill the mood, but weren’t you just in the middle of a family emergency?”

“Oh, snap! And I left them both in the waiting room! How could I forget?” Brent said as he dashed back to the hospital entrance. Being around Vince seemed to make him forget his problems. Whenever he was around Vince, it seemed that nothing else in the world mattered to Brent but Vince. As Brent burst back through the hospital doors, he saw his father and step mother still in the same position as they were when he left them.

“Brent! Where have you been?” Asked his father.

“I was taking a walk. Trying to alleviate some of the stress and emotion. It’s rather selfish of me, I know. But I just had to get away. I’m sorry, dad.” Brent said, his ears folded down and his tail hanging low.

“Well you should be! Your mother and I have been worrying about both Felicia and you, and you’re out taking a stroll!”

“Honey, stop. Don’t snap at the boy. I don’t blame him.” Felicia’s mother said, much to both Brent and his father’s surprise. “I don’t blame him for wanting to get away from it all. I could use a good walk, myself. I’m sorry I’ve been so hysterical. It’s just that Felicia’s been in a similar situation before she moved in with the both of you, and she almost didn’t make it. I was so worried that that was going to be the case again.” She said, still choking and sobbing, but now recollecting her sense. “But as her mother, I’m staying here for the night to make sure that my baby is fine.”

“Darling, if you’re staying here, then I am too.”

“No, you need your sleep. You haven’t been getting enough lately.”

“Well, you know what they say about us wolf males. Always stupid and stubborn, trying to get our way no matter what. Samantha, she’s my daughter too. It’s also my duty as a parent to stay here. If anything, Brent should be the one who gets to go home.”

“Yes. Yes, I suppose you’re right. Brent, you’re young. You don’t need to deal with all of this right now. I don’t want you to have to deal with it all at once. Let us, the old one handle it. She may be your sister, but I’m not letting you lose sleep over this. Felicia wouldn’t want you to.”

“Yeah, I understand. Can’t I stay a little bit longer?” Brent inquired.

“A little while longer.” Replied his father. His mother was still in his father’s arm, resting her head on his shoulder. Brent smiled and sat down next to them, hugging his step mother.

“Brent. My son.” She said. “I don’t tell you this nearly enough, but I love you.” She said, wrapping one of her arms around Brent as well. Brent looked outside and saw Vince in the glass of the doorway, smiling. He paid Vince no mind and continued with the group hug that he was in. Vince simply stood there, continuing to smile, and wishing that he had had a family like Brent’s while he was his growing up. He walked away from the doorway and away from the entrance of the hospital and back into the parking lot. Vince got in his car and waited. He would wait there as long as it took for Brent to come back out. Thirty minutes later, Brent approached the car and got in, a tear in his fur.

“Brent, what’s wrong?” Vince asked, a tone of concern in his voice.

“Nothing. I’m just happy to have those crazy bastards as my family.” Brent replied.

“You’re lucky. My family wouldn’t be in the hospital worried sick over me or my siblings. All they’d do would be to send their regards. Through e-mail, via a secretary.”

“Yeah, you told me that you didn’t have the best family situation.”

“That I don’t. But that doesn’t matter. I’m on my own in the world now and can get away with whatever I want now.”

“Speaking of which, I’m sorry about all of those fines on your car. Did you get in trouble with the police much?”

“Not really. And the fines are no big deal. That’s chump change. I can have them all paid by tomorrow.”

“But tomorrow we’ll be at the beach.”

“I know. I meant tomorrow night. You’ll have to come back to check up on them eventually.” Stated Vince

“I was thinking about going until seven.”

“By then, it’ll be dark, Brent.”

“Yeah, But we’ll have seen the sunset.”

“Ah, a little romanticist, are we?”

“Oh, shut up, you.” Brent said as he playfully nudged Vince as he started the car.

Brent laid in bed that night, contemplating the events of the previous day. It was hard to absorb it all, waking up with a male that he had slept with, having fun with Felicia, worrying sick about whether or not Felicia would be okay after a car hit her, having a touching moment with Vince, and then with his family, and anticipating what tomorrow might bring for his relationship with Vince, while fearing deeply what it might bring for his relationship with Felicia. Not one of his most boring days.

Brent rolled over on his back, seeing all of the boxes that his things were in. He was in a large room, the one that he had entered earlier in order to retrieve clothing for himself. Brent sighed and wondered how he would ever get to sleep in such an intimidating large room and with so many thoughts on his mind. At that time, it was 12:00 AM. By the time Brent got to sleep, it was 12:30 AM.

________________________________________________________________________

Brent could hear a rapping on his door. He groaned, looking at the digital clock next to him. It was 5:30 AM. He tried to burry himself with blankets, but found it impossible as the rapping grew louder and louder. Brent finally submitted, throwing his covers off and walking to the door.

“All right, Vince! I’m coming. Just… gimme a minute… gotta get some boxers on.” Brent said sleepily. He didn’t plan on telling Vince that he slept in the nude, but in his daze he let it slip out. As Brent got out of bed and stretched, facing the door no less, Vince barged in, his tail wagging. Vince was wearing a light blue shirt and black kaki pants with the shirt tucked into them.

“Aaahhh!!! Vince! What the hell!?” Brent screamed as he frantically began to tear the covers of the bed from their place. After he had grabbed hold of them, Brent simply gave up.

“You know what? Fine, watch all you want. Like you said, been there, done that.” Brent sighed. “You’re kind of a perv, you know that?”

“Oh, But Brent, it’s been so long since I’ve had a worth while partner. The others were all just quick flings, so how can you blame me for being so enamored by you? You did so well on your first time!” Vince exclaimed, his tail still wagging.

“Fine. Hope the rear view’s good.” Brent said as he still somewhat drowsily turned around and bent over, his tail still between his legs. He went through a drawer on the side of his bed until he found a black, long-sleeved T-shirt and his swimming trunks. Not that he would be needing them; it was far too cold to swim.

“Heh. Brent, you never let me have any fun.”

“I had sex with you on the first day we met! How is that holding out on you?”

“Details, details.”

“You seem pretty buzzed for so early in the morning.” Brent said as he pulled the articles of clothing that he was after from the drawer.

“Well, that’s because I’m a morning person who didn’t spend their night having sex this time.”

“Oh, just dandy.” Brent sighed as he walked past Vince. He proceeded down the hallway until he found the bathroom that he had used the day before. Brent stepped into the room, setting his clothes for the day on the counter. His fur was in absolute tangles from not being tended to yesterday. It was going to be painful to brush. Brent reluctantly picked up a brush that was sitting on a counter and began to force it through his fur. He winced and pulled on the brush, tangles of fur coming out. When he was finally finished, it felt as if someone had pulled all of the fur on his body to its limit.

Brent then grudgingly stepped inside of the shower, knowing that he would have to brush his fur yet again when he finished. He started the water, its warm embrace wrapping itself around him and sewing itself throughout his fur. Brent allowed himself to relax a bit and clear his mind. The current events that enthralled him were too much for him that early in the morning. Then, Brent tried to think of something peaceful, something that would clear his mind of all other things. The first thing that his mind jumped to was the memory of Vince and himself kissing in the hospital parking lot, the sun setting behind them. Brent smiled warmly as he remembered the feelings and nuances of the kiss. The warmth, the passion, the kindness, the softness, the sincerity, the love--it was all in that one kiss.

Brent grabbed the shampoo and conditioner, applying them to his fur. By the time it had all been rubbed in, Brent looked like he was a legitimate snowman that was made of bubbles and had a tail. Too much conditioner. Brent stepped under the jets of water coming from the shower head and rubbed his fur so that the suds would wash away more quickly. When he was finished, Brent shook himself in order to become mostly dry and stepped out, using a towel to finish the job. His fur ruffled, Brent reluctantly brushed it again. It was surprisingly less painful, that time.

As Brent left the bathroom, he made sure to cover himself with a towel and quickly make his way to his bedroom, where he dumped the clothes that he was carrying on the bed. Vince was already preparing breakfast, as Brent could hear a stove working from the kitchen. At least he would be able to dress in peace, though he somewhat missed Vince’s chiding and fun making. Brent quickly got dressed in his attire for the day and hurried to the kitchen, where he was greeted by a sweet smelling aroma. Vince was cooking cinnamon roles.

“Hey, Vince. Breakfast smells delicious.” Brent said as he stood next to Vince as he wagged his tail at the aroma that wafted through his nostrils. “But, why are you using two pans?”

“Because, Brent, I’m not going to let you get fat off of the stuff that I cook.” Vince responded. “One pan contains fat free cinnamon roles, while the other contains regular.”
“So I’m eating fat free, I assume?”
“Yes, you are correct. I’m not letting you lose that figure of yours while I still draw breath.”

“I could just exercise with you.”

“No, no. I don’t want you to gain muscle, either. You have enough as it is. I like you rather skinny anyways.”

“All right, then. So I’m stuck with fat free meals?”

“Yes. You catch on quickly.”

“But fat free always tastes so… taste free.”

“You’ll have to deal with it, Brent.”

“You’re selfish, you know that?” Brent chided.

“I know. I’ve prepared the cabinets and refrigerator so as to not let you in them.”

“Sounds like you’re just not letting me get to any food!”
“What I make should be enough to satisfy you, Brent.”

“All right, all right. Fat free it is, then.” Brent laughed. “It’s kinda funny that you’d be so obsessed about my figure, Vince.”

“What can I say? I’ve grown to like lean, somewhat muscled boys.” Vince chuckled. “And I intend to keep you the way that I found you.”

“That’s… sweet?”

“Let’s go with that.”

Brent sat down at the table as Vince brought the two separate plates of cinnamon buns to them and set them on the table’s surface along with silver wear. Brent smelled the food that was before him. It was rather promising. He then hesitantly ate one of the roles, and couldn’t believe what he was tasting.

“Vince, are you sure that these roles are fat free? They don’t taste like it!” Brent said.

“Absolutely positive. They’ve got less fat on them than a professional super model.” Vince responded while he chewed his cinnamon role. The rest of breakfast went on with Brent and Vince conversing. After they had finished and cleaned up, Brent and Vince headed out to the car and began their drive to the beach. It was an enjoyable ride; Brent got to rest a bit and observe some great scenery.

“So, how far out are we headed?” Brent asked near the end of the drive.

“A bit further out. I wanted to make sure that we were all alone.” Vince replied.

Brent sighed and set his head against the window of the car. They had been riding since they left Vince’s estate at 7:00 AM and the current time was 9:00 AM.

“The public beaches, and even the ones past those can easily get crowded. I wanted to make sure that it was just us for optimal conversation, romanticism and making out.” Vince continued. “Oh, look, we’re here!” He said, not giving Brent the time to react to what he had just said. Brent and Vince both got out of the car and stepped onto a wide, spacious, beautiful beach. It was dotted with snow, but the water kept moving. With the sun shining, it was an oddly beautiful sight.

“You knew about this spot? How does it not get any tourism?” Brent stammered.

“Because, it’s too far out for tourists to drag their fat behinds to it.” Vince said, his breath appearing before his face. They both walked down to the shore and observed the waves before asking each other questions. Vince was the first to break the silence.

“So, Brent, what kind of movies do you like?” Vince asked, eager to know more about Brent.

“Huh? Movies? I like some cult classics, like Edge Runner, and comedies, and dramas. I don’t like horror or action movies. Horror is always cheap these days; it was much better in the 60’s and 70’s. Action movies are just soaked in testosterone and special effects.” Brent responded.

“Heh. I have to agree with you, there. Though I can’t admit to ever having seen any classic horror or cult classics.”

“Really? Then you haven’t seen a real triptastic movie yet! We’ve gotta get Fair of Souls when we get back from the hospital!”

“A ha ha! It’s a deal.”
“So, Vince, what kinds of movies do you like?”

“Me? Well, like you, I tend to like dramas and comedies, my favorite of which would be Sure Man, and any drama with good characters and actors in it. They carry the film. I especially like documentaries that aren’t boring, such as Trek of The Penguins, and anything else with Morgan Freedom in it. That raccoon’s the most talented actor around, and his performance in Glorification was amazing.”

“That’s a lot to keep up with.” Brent laughed. Vince chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’d have to agree.” Vince laughed.

They continued talking for hours. About favorite foods, books, and any other favorites that they could think of as they continued down the beach, turning around at different intervals so as not to stray too far away from the car. It was a very pleasant walk. During the walk, Vince started a snowball fight with Brent by using some of the snow that had collected in a spot on the beach’s sandy surface. It was a very (non) heated battle, but Vince eventually pegged Brent with enough snowballs to make even the most determined fighter submit. Brent blamed Vince for being an arctic wolf, which Vince couldn’t entirely disagree with. Later on in the walk along the shore, Brent asked Vince questions about his past, and Vince asked Brent questions about his past.

“So, Brent, what was it like growing up? With your father remarrying, I mean. And Felicia. I never got the chance to meet her. What was she like?” Vince inquired.

“It was nice. My real mother died of illness when I was five, and so it was just me and my dad for a while, which was nice, but I missed having a mom like all of the other kids. Dad was away from home a lot, so I had to take care of myself for the most part, which was a good exercise of responsibility, but I’m not to keen on trying it again. It got lonely, and fast. I was relieved to hear that my father was remarrying and that I would have a new sister who was my age. Felicia and I bonded rather quickly and got along really well. She liked to embarrass me with her words in public, which she did get an immense kick out of. In fact, she did it to just about every male she met until she was seventeen. Then, when she stopped humiliating them, Felicia actually found out that quite a few males really liked her.” Brent explained with a solemn look on his face as he reminisced about the times that he shared with Felicia.

“Brent, you mustn’t worry. She’ll make it through this. And even if she doesn’t, she’d want you to be strong.”

“I guess you’re right. I just can’t shake the feeling that something bad might happen. Speaking of which, it’s 3:30. We should head back. I’m worried.”

“Yes. If we want to make it back at a reasonable time to check on her, then we’d better leave now. And afterwards, we can watch that movie that you wanted to see, Fair of Souls.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go. Isn’t the car down that way?”

“It’s the other way, Brent. Follow me.” Vince said warmly as he held out his hand. Brent held it as they both ran back to Vince’s car, Brent easily keeping up with Vince‘s pace. Within a few minutes, they were back at the car, laughing with their arms around each other’s shoulders.

The ride back to the city was rather quiet. Brent was rather nervous, and not in a joking sort of mood. Vince respected this, trying to console Brent a few more times before they arrived at the hospital. Once they had arrived, Brent quickly got out of the car and dashed through the doors of the hospital, and Vince drove around to the parking lot, where Vince waited.

Vince found it an unbearable wait. It felt like the longest thirty minutes of his life. He worried for Brent, for Felicia and for their family. Vince knew that Brent’s father was a strong man, but not strong enough to handle losing a daughter. And he worried even more about how Brent’s mother would react. Vince had met her at the party the night before last, and could tell that she loved Felicia deeply and that her pride and identity was hinged upon her children. He wasn’t sure what it would be like for her to lose one. Vince wasn’t too worried that Felicia would die, really, so much as he was worried that she would be comatose or brain damaged. He knew that having a loved one irreversibly changed like that was a heart breaking experience. His older brother, Vladimir, had been involved in a car accident as well. Vince later found out that the accident had left Vladimir brain damaged, and couldn’t stand it. He and Vladimir were very close to each other, being the only ones out of all of their siblings who could relate to one another.

As Vince saw Brent walking out of the hospital, he got out of the car. Brent then broke into a run, and Vince could see tears flowing through Brent’s grey fur at a certain distance. Brent stopped once he came to the point where Vince was, choking and sobbing.

“Brent! What’s wrong? What’s happened to Felicia?” Vince urgently asked, his hands shaking both of Brent’s shoulders.

“They… they… don’t think that she’s gonna… wake up… ever.” Brent sobbed out, his tail between his legs and his ears lowered. He then hugged Vince, who hugged him back.

“Brent… I’m so sorry.” Vince said as tears began forming in his eyes. He hated to see Brent suffer like this. He loathed it more than any other sight that he had ever seen. Vince wanted nothing more than for Brent to be happy at that moment. They stood there, crying in each other’s arms for several minutes. Eventually, Brent begged to be taken away from the hospital, and Vince obliged more than willingly. They were both saddened and in pain. Brent, for his sister, and Vince, because of Brent’s sadness and pain.

Brent begged Vince to take him as far away as he could, as far away as possible from that town.

Other than that, Vince and Brent’s lives went on as they bonded and grew deeper ties together. Needless to say, classes had also started again for Brent. This meant frantically running around, studying, and homework. Brent would have even less time for Vince, which he dreaded. On the other hand, Brent was taking statistics and economics that semester, and Vince was proving himself to be an exemplary study partner. So long as he wasn’t making advances on Brent.

They were going out more often, though, both of them making time for the other. They drove to the beach more often than naught, and once, when it was sunset and Vince had laid them out a surface to lie on, they even made love for the second time. It was one of their most cherished memories together.

Vince prepared the table excitedly, wagging his tail, his ears pricked, anticipating what it would be like when Brent finally came home from his night class. Vince didn’t exactly approve of Brent going to a night class, as it sometimes proved dangerous to be on the streets at night in that city. But Brent reassured Vince that he had a cell phone, could take care of himself, and would be careful. Vince finally let Brent take the class, but missed having Brent home from 6:00 PM to 8:30 PM. But no matter how much he disliked it, Vince couldn’t stop Brent from taking the class. Vince had already fired his servants so that he and Brent could be alone, so he thought, in retrospect in order to comfort himself, that he would now have the opportunity to aid Brent in his education.

The meal that Vince had prepared for the both of them was rather unique--strawberries, whipped cream, melted chocolate substitute (Brent was allergic to chocolate) fondue, and two condoms, one underneath each of their plates. Unlike times before, Vince wasn’t going to risk giving Brent a disease. Vince sat down, turning on a stereo that he had brought into the kitchen with a remote. He examined his work. The dimmed lighting was romantic. The piano music coming from the speaker was soothing. The plates were arranged so that one could reach the other person’s plate easily. Vince had to relocate the table that was originally in the kitchen; it was too large for this occasion. Instead, there was a smaller, square table in its place. The two candles that provided the lighting were perfectly position on either end of the table. One could easily tell that Vince had put some effort into this setup.

Vince, in accordance with the mood, wore a tuxedo with an unbuttoned jacket and undershirt, with an undone necktie, exposing his muscular form. The current time was 8:28 PM. Brent should have been arriving soon. At 8:40 PM, Vince heard the entrance to the estate open. Brent yelled that he was home, and Vince replied from the dimly lit kitchen for him to take off his jacket and shirt and come to the kitchen. Brent’s fur stood on end as he stripped partially, anticipating whatever it was that Vince had planned.

As Brent stepped into the kitchen, he saw Vince wearing his unbuttoned suit and stood for a second.

“Come, Brent.” Vince said in a low, soft voice. “Sit with me.” Vince’s eyes were focused on Brent, and Brent couldn’t believe what he was seeing. No wonder Vince had told him to stop and eat at that health food place before he came home. He steadily advanced towards his seat and sat down, his fur standing even more on end. Brent was about to open his mouth to speak, when Vince interrupted him.

“Shhh. Don’t talk. Just sit back and relax. You don’t have to lift a finger.” Vince explained in his low, seductive voice. Brent sat back and did as he was told, enamored by the mood that Vince had created, and by Vince himself. Vince slowly picked up a strawberry from Brent’s plate and held it up to Brent’s mouth. Without a word, Vince touched the strawberry to Brent’s lips, encircling it around his entire maw before plopping it into Brent’s mouth. Vince repeated this a few times, making Brent rather hot under the collar.

“How about some whipped cream, hm?” Vince said, still using his deep, tantalizing voice. He used his index and middle finger to scoop the cream from his plate, walked around the table, and began smearing it through Brent’s fur, using his fingers to sensitively caress Brent as he repeated this process a few more times. Brent, at this point, was very hot and bothered. As Vince’s fingers ran through his fur, spreading the cream, his face so close to Brent’s, Brent thought of kissing Vince, but decided against it.

“And now we just have to clean you up.” Vince said using the same voice, this time with the slightest hint of his urges mixed in. Brent began to breathe more heavily as Vince slowly brought his tongue to his chest and began slowly licking the cream from Brent’s fur, his hands still caressing Brent softly enough to stay subtle, but noticeably enough to keep Brent’s fur on end and keep him blushing and heavily breathing.

As Vince licked Brent all over, the both of them were becoming more and more aroused. Vince was intending to make this foreplay last for as long as he could make it. He was going to make Brent squirm and beg for sex. Though Vince wasn’t quite sure how long he could hold out until he would be too excited to continue with more foreplay as well. Vince kept licking cream off of Brent’s fur and caressing Brent, he himself starting to pant slightly. Vince continued with the foreplay, removing his tuxedo jacket and under shirt and placing them on the floor. As he did this, Brent couldn’t take much more foreplay. He had a large bulge in his pants that was wet at the tip. As Vince leaned back in for more licking and caressing, Brent stopped him and kissed him in the same hungry, passionate way that they had always done before intercourse, but this kiss was much deeper than the others. Brent used his tongue and pulled Vince towards him, deepening the kiss. Vince used his tongue to massage Brent’s and vice versa. Vince began to use his hands to undo his pants, and started to stroke his member, which was now completely out of its sheath. Brent sensed this, pulling away from the kiss and moving towards Vince’s erect cock.

For the first time, Brent was licking Vince‘s member. In all of the times before, Vince was the one doing that. Vince moaned in pleasure as Brent’s tongue moved up and down, stimulating him so much. His hips began to buck as Brent immersed Vince’s whole member into his mouth, bobbing his head up and down it. Brent began to use his hand, and the saliva from his mouth made for an excellent lubricant. As Vince howled in pleasure, as he had given up trying not to, Brent pulled his head away and Vince came all over Brent’s back and the chair and floor behind him.

Brent then got out of the chair, taking off his pants and stepping towards the door into the hallway. He made a gesture for Vince to follow, his fur standing on end, which Vince immediately did. Captivated by Brent, but still receiving a moment’s respite, Vince remembered to open the condom and put it on, following Brent, who was walking down the hallways and towards his bedroom, wagging his tail promiscuously.

Once they had reached the bedroom, Vince tackled Brent and pinned him to the bed, his back side up. Vince then proceeded to deflower Brent, but Brent noticed something rather different about that particular session. Once they were finally finished with everything, Brent asked while he was panting right before going to sleep.

“Hey… pant…Vince… pant…why did it feel… pant…different… pant…that time?” Brent wearily asked.

“Oh… pant… that’s because…pant… I used… pant…protection…pant… that’s how… it’s going to…pant… be… from… pant…now on.” Vince panted out, Brent barely receiving the answer as they both drifted off to sleep, both of them lying on their backs next to each other.

________________________________________________________________________

Vince and Brent showered and had breakfast together than morning. Aside from the kissing in the shower, their morning was normal--shared, talkative, and separated by Brent’s morning class, which was statistics. Vince eagerly awaited Brent’s return, while checking in on things online with his computer. The stocks that he had bought into the night before last were doing well, and it appeared that he would have to attend a company meeting tomorrow. Vince hoped that Brent wouldn’t get too bored without him there tomorrow.

________________________________________________________________________

Brent, finished with his morning class, quickly stopped by the hospital to pay Felicia a visit. He entered the door, his tail starting to hang limp as he did so. After so long, this place still depressed him. He climbed the stairs and made his way to Felicia’s room on the third floor, where she lay comatose. Brent braced himself before entering the door. The last time he had come, Felicia was being given nutrients intravenously, the sight of which disturbed him greatly. Brent opened the door, thankfully to see only Felicia lying on her bed, still sleeping. He walked over to her, stroking her orange furred face with his furry hand. Felicia’s hair and whiskers had grown long in the time that she had been this way. Brent tried to smile warmly at his sleeping sister’s face and began to speak.

“Hey. How’s it been since I last stopped by? Anything change in that dream world of yours? I’d like to visit there, sometime, just to see what you’re constantly seeing right now.” Brent said softly to his sister. “Things have been going great between me and Vince. We’re so much closer now. I don’t know if I can go five minutes without at least thinking about him. And I’m noticing so many men now, you wouldn’t believe it. When you wake up, I guess we’re gonna have to start talking about them, huh?” Brent then patted Felicia’s head.

Then, Brent heard the door opening. He turned around to see a cat male with brown fur that had black stripes in it. Brent knew that this male looked familiar. He thought back as far as he could, and remembered him from the gathering where he first talked to Vince.

“Oh, hey, um, Gus, was it? From the party a month or two ago?” Brent said as he saw the male standing there with flowers in his hand.

“It’s Grant. And yes. I was the one that you falsely threatened.” Grant said, a certain look in his eye as he turned towards Brent and back to Felicia. He asked Brent if he could be alone with her for a few minutes. Brent kindly obliged and stepped out of the room. A few minutes later, Grant walked out of the room, a tear running through his fur. Brent then ducked back into the room, and saw Felicia with her arm wrapped around a bouquet and a note on the foot of her bed. Brent knew that it was none of his business, but he had to know what the note said, and it had no seal on it, so who would it hurt? At least he would know what Grant’s intentions behind the surprise visit were.

Brent picked up the note, its front bearing the words “To Felicia Voreson”. He opened the note, slightly eager to know what it might contain or say. Brent read the note, which said:

“Dear Felicia

It’s me, Grant. You might not remember me. I was that cat that was bullied by your wolf step brother at the party, you know, the one that you met on the subway. This isn’t easy for me to say at all, just so you know. If you ever read this, that is. It’s hard being in a relationship with someone who’s comatose. It’s hard on the relationship and it’s hard on the one who isn’t comatose. That’s why I’ve decided to start seeing other people, Felicia. Good bye. I’m sorry.

--Grant, X-X-XX”

Brent put the note down, a sullen look on his face. He glanced at Felicia, feeling sorry for her. It seemed that by the time she would wake up, everything around her would be gone. Brent noticed that Grant had put a date on the note. Grant obviously didn’t think that Felicia would be waking up anytime soon. Brent sighed and stroked Felicia’s face one more time and said good bye, stepping out of the room once more. As Brent walked down the hallway, he saw Grant sitting in the corner next to the stairwell, a saddened look on his face. He made his way over to Grant and asked him about the note that he had left Felicia at the foot of her bed. Brent knew that he wasn’t the only one suffering.

“Hey. I saw that note that you left her.” Brent said. Grant glanced at Brent, but didn’t look as if he cared much.

“Yeah. I don’t even care anymore. She’s not ever going too wake up. I shouldn’t chase after someone who can’t even react to any sort of gesture I make.” Grant explained in a sullen tone.

“Hey. Don’t talk as if she’s not gonna wake up, or as if she’s just some lifeless doll. We’ve gotta have hope for her. But I can understand wanting to see other people. If my mate was comatose, I’d do the same thing unless I was madly in love.” Brent responded. What he had just said startled him. What if he lost Vince to a coma? Would he leave him? Brent liked to think that he wouldn’t leave Vince. He knew that Vince would stay for him. Brent shook the thought off and came back to the conversation with Grant.

“--Essing.”

“I’m sorry, what was that? I’m having some trouble today. I didn’t quite catch that.” Brent stammered.

“I just said that the whole situation is depressing.” Grant repeated.

“Yeah, I’d have to agree with you there.”

“I mean, having a girl friend who you were convinced was ‘the one’ and just losing her to some idiot driver like that? It’s just plain sad.”

“You thought that Felicia was ‘the one’?”

“Well, yeah, actually. I really liked and cared for her. When I got the news, I felt like I wanted to just break down.”

“Heh. Join the club, emo cat.”

Brent and Grant talked for a while longer before Brent had to leave for his next class. Grant said good bye and Brent wished Grant luck with the dating scene in his current position. Brent thought that, in retrospect, Grant was rather pessimistic.

As Brent walked down the street on campus, he again thought about what his major would be. The university would demand that he declare one soon. Brent was almost positive that by now he would be a architectural major, but he also badly wanted to pursue journalism, as Felicia had done. Not out of homage for her, but more out of genuine interest. Brent had taken a work shop recently for students who still were unsure of what they wanted to major in, and Brent found great interest in architecture and journalism. He had borrowed some money from Vince so that he could buy text books for both, and found that he couldn’t decide which. Brent thought of double majoring, but decided that would take too much work and keep him even further away from Vince, which was a deal breaker for just about anything. So, Brent’s major stayed in limbo.

Brent entered the room. It had white walls and about seventy seats in it with a large black board at the front of the room. He maneuvered his way through the rows of chairs and sat down in his seat. His stats 1 class was about to begin. Brent would have to pay close attention. If he didn’t listen, then not even Vince would be able to help him. Brent had never been good with numbers. Ever. This class was difficult for him. Today, they would be talking a bit about conditional probability and then moving on to other topics about probability theory, which Brent absolutely dreaded.

And then, as Brent sat down in his seat, he saw him--Wesley Justin. Wesley was a husky with white front fur that went all the way up to his bottom jaw, neck, his torso and hands and feet and he also black fur that spread all across his backside and everywhere else. He would always wear tightly fitting clothing, usually the kind that would show off his muscular arms and form. Today, Wesley wore a tight, black T-shirt along with fitted jeans. Wesley was also one of the first males that Brent had started noticing after classes had started again. Brent had developed a bit of a crush on Wesley, and loathed himself for it and tried to hide it. He felt that if he acknowledged his feelings, then he would somehow be betraying Vince. Brent blushed as Wesley turned around from a call and he found himself staring at Wesley‘s back side. Wesley then came and sat down next to Brent, sighing as he sat down I the seat. Brent had to resist feeling Wesley’s arm when he sat down next to him. He was rather surprised when Wesley turned and started speaking with him.

“Hey. Brent, right? You’re always so quiet. You never do anything. Just sit there and take notes and stuff. Why is that?” Wesley asked. Brent didn’t know why Wesley had chosen then of all times to speak with him. The closest that they had ever gotten to communication before was Wesley asking to borrow some notes that he hadn’t bothered to take.

“Oh, that’s, uh, well, I’m no good in this class, and, uh, I need all the help that I can get is all.” Brent stammered. He was somewhat nervous about the current situation. He didn’t know what he would say.

“Ah, I understand. The class can get a bit confusing sometimes, can’t it?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“So, what’s your major?”

“That’s, um, undecided.”

“Heh. Small world. My parents keep pressuring me to find a major.”

“Mine, too.” Brent said. He was finding it gradually easier to talk with Wesley.

“I’m pretty sure that I want to be a journalism major, but I don’t really know.”

“I’m thinking about that, too. But I don’t know yet, either. I’m also thinking of being an architectural major. Kinda random, I know, but they both interest me.”

“I see whatcha mean. My folks say I won’t amount to anything unless I find my major soon. My dad’s always talking to me like I’m just not good enough! Like I’ll never be! For as long as I can remember! It pisses me off, for one thing, but at the same time, it’s kind of depressing. It makes you feel like crap after a while! And my mom’s right there with him, too. Says that he’s only doing it because he loves me, but I swear, after I totaled his car last year, he’s definitely got it in for me! One night, he got mad at me for not configuring the TV right, and I swear, he totally flipped out. It was kind of funny to watch him get so mad over something so little.” Wesley explained. They both laughed. Brent suddenly found Wesley to be much less difficult to talk with. He found that he wanted to talk with Wesley even more, and disliked himself even more for it. “So, what’s your old man like?”
“Oh, my dad? He’s fine. He doesn’t exactly approve of my life style, but at the same time, he doesn’t really know about it.” Brent explained. He was slightly amazed that Wesley could become so worked up and then become so calm so quickly.

“Ah, I see what you mean. How does that work? Did you convert to another religion that he doesn’t like or something?”

“No, nothing like that. He’s just told me before that he disapproves of it. But what dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“Well, it’s none of my business, so I won’t ask anymore.” Wesley said. Brent was shocked at what he had came so close to revealing to him. He had let himself slip too far into the conversation, let his guard down. Brent silently cursed himself for being so foolish and for the fact that he so easily let his guard down while he was talking to Wesley. Did a pretty face really control him so easily?

“But I’ve got some facts about myself that I’m not too ashamed of venting that my parents don’t know about. Care to have a listen?” Wesley asked, leaning towards Brent slowly as he did so.

“Are you sure about this?” Brent asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Totally. I’ve been wanting to vent them for as long as I can remember. And now I’m in college. I’m practically my own man.”

“All right then, you can tell me.” Brent said. Right then, however, the professor gestured to start class, which meant that Brent would have to stop fooling around and pay attention, else he not follow a word that the professor said.

“All right, class. Time to begin. Today, as I’m sure that you already know, we’ll be covering conditional probability.” The professor said in a mono toned, low, boring voice that only an instructor with years of practice could have. Brent was finding it hard to pay attention, though. As the professor began, Brent quickly began jotting notes into his notebook. By the time that the professor had finished lecturing about conditional probability, Brent had had an entire page of neatly written notes on the subject. Every unnecessary detail, every little quirk, every reminder that he or the professor gave him, and even more--it was all there, and then some. Even notes about how it might affect other subjects that Brent hypothesized they were going to cover.

“All right, class. Now we’ll be covering something else about probability theory. Get out your notebooks if you don’t already have them out and start taking notes one discrete random variables.” The professor said in the same, dreary, mono toned voice. Brent shuttered. This sounded hard. With this subject, Brent made sure to take even more extensive notes, taking up three whole pages.

“All right, class. Now I’m going to hand out your take-home tests and we’ll pick back up with an in-class test next week. Be sure to have your take-home tests in before or on the day of the test.” The professor said. Brent was glad, too. He had grown very sick of the professor’s voice and instructions. He had also grown very sick of the fact that every time Brent stepped inside of that classroom he would be needing a new pencil or two. As Brent tried to get up and leave, Wesley stopped him.

“Hey, Brent. Y’know, you’re all right. How about coming to a party tomorrow night? It’ll be fun. And you’ll get to hear some of my secrets. How about it?” Wesley inquired with an eager look in his eye. Brent didn’t know what to say.

“Well, you see, the thing is, I’ll have to ask my, um, roommate if it’s okay with him. I kinda promised that I’d do something with him, but he said that depending on the way things turn out, it wouldn’t be a tragedy to lose me for the night.” Brent lied. He didn’t know what to make of things. He needed time to sort out his options. Brent wanted to go to the party with Wesley, to enjoy himself, but at the same time, Brent didn’t want to leave Vince. He couldn’t make the decision right that instant, in any case. He needed time to think.

“Ah, I see. Well, just remember, you’re welcome to come. It’s at Richard hall at 7:30 PM tomorrow, in the main lobby, but we can go other places. It only starts in the main lobby, but parties like this have a tendency of expanding into different territories. All right, I’ve got to run. See you there, if you can make it.” Wesley said as he walked past Brent and out of the isle. Brent couldn’t help but glance at Wesley’s ass as he walked by again. He found himself looking back on all of the events that had just transpired and found himself deep in self-loathing yet again.

Brent stepped out of the classroom. He wondered what it would be like to attend a party with Wesley. And what kind of secrets was Wesley going to tell? Could it have been that Wesley was also gay? No, that couldn’t be. Brent had heard that Wesley had a girlfriend. But, then again, in today’s world, a girlfriend didn’t prove much. He decided to consult Vince and see what he had to say. If Brent lost control at the party and came onto Wesley, he would never forgive himself. He made a personal note to stay away from any alcoholic beverages. And, if at all possible, Wesley. The parties that Brent had been to before had all been fraternity parties with drinking, stupidity, idiocy, sex, and overall, not too much appeal to Brent.

Brent proceeded down the hallways and stairwells and out of the building. There was still enough time to stop by the architecture building before he had to go to his next class. The architecture building was rather large and had several models and miniatures throughout it of cities and buildings and various other structures that Brent rather enjoyed browsing through. He loved to look at them and see how they were structured and put together, and had been toying with the idea to make one himself, with the help of the textbook that he had brought with Vince’s money. Dreading the thought, Brent remembered that he still owed Vince for borrowing so much money for two textbooks. Passing by his friend, Laurie, Brent said hello.

“Hey, Laurie! How’s it going? Is the project coming along okay?” Brent asked as he ventured towards a female coyote at a work bench who was working on a floor plan. Laurie was a rather eccentric, hyper, good-humored, workaholic coyote with grey fur that had black spots throughout it who always wore dress shirts and jeans. Every day. Laurie once told Brent that she kept at least ten clean pairs of jeans at all times, and ten clean dress shirts at all times. He had met Laurie one day while browsing through the architecture building. She had offered to give him a tour, and her commentary made him laugh quite a few times, so they got to talking and exchanged phone numbers and became friends.

“Hey, Brent! Can’t talk; working on the floor plan. It’s due in a few days.” Laurie replied, not even looking up from her work for an instant. Brent could tell that Laurie was really serious about getting this particular project finished.

“Well, you’re no fun. Oh, and can you tell me about that mobile over there? It doesn’t look too stable…”

“Oh, that’s just an art student’s. They come in here and never know what the hell they’re doing. I swear, it’ll fall apart soon and they’ll be devastated. Not that I’ll care much. People are either too artistically blinded or just too stupid to see how ugly the thing really is. If I were his professor, then I would just go ahead and fail him.” Laurie said relentlessly, her tail flicking back and forth. Brent laughed a little. When she wasn’t in the mood to joke, Laurie could be unmercifully honest or blunt. And that’s why Brent loved to speak with her. She would always speak her mind about her surroundings, and Brent thought that it was funny as all hell. The current subject that they were both speaking of was an arched mobile that had outcroppings going every which way and leaned very awkwardly to the right. In Brent’s opinion, Laurie was right: It was ugly.

“You’ve never seemed to like art students too much. Why is that?”

“Because they come in here all superior and artsy, looking down on us actual workers like they’re better or smarter or unique or special. And all of their stuff is absolute crap. But, I prefer to just laugh at their stupidity from the sidelines and let them have their way. That way, everyone wins.”

“Is that how it is every time?” Brent asked, an eyebrow raised.

“No. Some of the art students actually end up being pretty nice and staying for a while, not being all high and mighty and holier-than-thou. But, unfortunately, those are too few, far, and between to be mentioned. It’s sad, really.”

“Well, I’m sure that they can’t be that bad. Right?”

“Brent, I speak the truth and you know it. Not because of what I say, but because you know me.”

“You got me there.”

“So, do you still have the hots for that husky boy?” Laurie asked, still not once looking up from her work while flitting her tail about as usual. Brent was still surprised by Laurie bringing up the subject so bluntly. He had came out of the closet to Laurie one day in hopes of venting some emotion, and found that Laurie really didn’t care much, but was still supportive him. From then on, it felt as if things were just that much less complicated to Brent. He had also talked to her about his being in a relationship. He hadn’t told her who it was with, just that it was someone older. Brent eventually told her about his developing crush on Wesley and how he felt about it.

“Wha--shut up! For your information, yes, and I’m guilty as all hell about it! And don’t bring it up so lightly! Someone might hear!” Brent snapped back, his tail between his legs and a blush showing through his fur.

“Says the wolf who’s yelling so loudly that people are starting to stare.” Laurie said, still flitting her tail back and forth. Even with Felicia in a coma, Brent couldn’t escape some form of verbal abuse. He just couldn’t win.

“Gawd, you are just like Felicia…” Brent said, covering his forehead with one hand, his tail between his legs and his ears flattened.

“You know, you keep talking about Felicia. I think it’s sad what happened to her and all, but I mean, seriously, you need to move on.”

“I know. I know I do. But verbal attacks were her specialty, too.”

“No, I’m just honest. I calls ‘em as I sees ‘em.”

“Right. You keep telling me that. By now, I should know better. Your lucky that you have a rack, because if you were a guy, you’d be unconscious in a dumpster somewhere. A lot.”

“One of the great perks of being a girl.” Laurie laughed. It was true, too. She knew that she was pretty, she knew that she had a great figure, she knew that she was smart, so she knew that in the presence of men, she could get away with saying whatever she wanted. In the presence of women, however, she was not so lucky. Brent could recall Laurie getting into a few fights in a campus café because she answered truthfully to all of the questions that other girls asked her.

“You know, it helps me think that you’re taking the conversation seriously when you actually look at me.” Brent said as he tried to see over Laurie’s shoulder, her tail flitting about and blocking his view.

“I do take our talks seriously, Brent. It’s just that, right now, I take this more seriously.” Laurie retorted. “So, decided on whether or not to join us over here in the builders’ club?”

“I think I might. Or, at least, I’m pretty sure.”

“Good. Because if you do, you’ll be my very own pet newbie. You’ll be my architectural student and bitch.”

“Oh, shut up, you.” Brent chuckled. “It’s not like you’re older than me. We’re the same age.”

“I’m just more experienced than you. And that means more than just age.”

“Right. Sure. If he were here, he’d--no, wait, he might join you…”

“Aha ha! You keep talking about this man of yours, but when do I get to meet this lupine equivalent of prince charming?”

“Oh, maybe someday.”

“Someday soon?”

“I’ll have to ask him, see what he says.”

“Whatever you say. But, I swear, the next thing you know, you’ll be telling me that he lives in Canada.”

“Laurie, I can assure you, he is in fact real.”

“Sure, sure.” Laurie sniggered. Brent glanced at his watch and realized that he had to go if he wanted to meet up with Vince for lunch.

“Hey, um, Laurie, I have to go.” Brent said as he began to head for the door.

“Tell prince charming I said hello.” Laurie said back to him. Brent was tempted to lash out again at Laurie for saying that, but he decided not to, realizing that it would probably only satisfy her if he created a scene. He was learning.