(c) 2001 Acheron. Do not distribute. If you think someone would like to see it, send them here.

I never used to like September.

Sure, the trees are lovely in their autumn finery... but that's just for a short time before they're bare, and winter's cold sets in.

But that's okay. I don't mind cold, or snow.

Still, who looks forward to school? I sure didn't. Especially not my third year of high school. I'd just moved over the summer, hadn't had time to meet anyone yet. I dreaded that first day. I thought for sure I'd be the butt of every bad joke. Especially the ones about odour; skunks always get targeted with those.

Never mind that I've never sprayed anyone in my life. Never mind that I can't. Even if my clothes are fresh off the rack and my fur has been buffed to a shine, who gets the blame every time the body's delightful sulphurous fumes grace the air?

Exactly.

At least I wouldn't have to put up with the bus this year. My bike was my birthday present when I turned seventeen, that same summer. It was a good one, too; probably last me ten years, if I take care of it. And I do.

I'd decided to get to school early, take a look around the place, figure out where all my classes were. That resolve almost slipped when the fateful morning arrived. I'd crawled under the sheets at eleven the night before, but it wasn't until at least two in the morning that I finally got to sleep. Five hours later, I did not want to get up.

I wasn't the only one to hear my alarm clock go off, though. A minute after I slapped the thing into silence, there was a gentle tap on the door. "Cale? Cale, hon, breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes. I'll have some cappuccino ready for you."

Hearing those words, I didn't think it was possible to love my mother more than I did then.

"Coming," I managed, and threw back the covers. Once I got to my feet, I heard retreating footsteps outside the door.

Grabbing some clothes – white boxers, black jeans, and a white T-shirt, all fairly new but broken in – I pushed the door open and padded down the hall to the bathroom. My mom was already downstairs, and my dad was either with her or still in their room, so I didn't see either of them.

Sometimes it's nice being an only child. Fewer people to keep track of if I want to take shortcuts. Not that my parents minded me going around the house naked, so long as company wasn't coming over; but ever since my father had found me in the living room the month before, just after we'd finished moving in, I'd been a little uneasy about them seeing me without clothes on.

Damn, but he can move quietly when he wants to... almost scared me out of my skin, and right as I was finishing, too. But he took it okay; he's great. They both are. Doesn't make me any less anxious, though.

Still, I got into the shower without incident and gave myself a good, though somewhat rushed, wash. I'd had a longer shower the night before, sort of expecting to be a little behind today, but I never got out of bed without washing right after.

Rinsed clean, towel in hands, I paused to look at myself. I wondered, as I did every year, what people would make of me on seeing me for the first time. I'm thin, and my weight's good, but with my fur plastered down it was pretty easy to tell that I didn't have much tone. Once I was mostly dry and had my clothes on, I still looked weedy, like a clerk... the sort of person people always think of as wearing glasses, even though I don't.

I started down the stairs as I was still tying my hair back. Breakfast, by the smell of it, was just being set on the table. Bacon and poached eggs; nothing fancy by itself, but whatever bread had been toasted smelled absolutely heavenly. Lots of herbs. So that probably meant —

"Good morning, son," Dad greeted me, setting a full plate on the table.

Yep. Dad was up, all right. Mom could cook a meal just fine, but Dad always gave it a little extra flair.

Mom echoed his sentiment, and I said it back to them as I sat down. She set a steaming mug by my plate, and sat.

Looking between them, it was easy to tell where I got my looks. Mom was short and, as women went, heavyset, and quite visibly in shape. Dad was tall, thin, and looked almost fragile. Yep, I definitely took after the male line. Hard to say where I got my grades; Mom was a paramedic and Dad, an accountant, so it could've come from either side.

Neither of them was eating, though both had a mug of coffee. The bacon defrosting on the counter suggested they would eat after I left, though. It was a little odd, eating all by myself with them right there, but at least they didn't stare at me the whole time, or pester me; they kept a conversation going on their own. At other times I might've added to it, but that morning I was just a little too distracted.

Dad started cooking their breakfast before I was quite done, and Mom went to have her shower. So it was left to him to give me a little hug, and wish me luck, and gently propel me towards the porch.

He didn't follow after me, though. He could probably tell I wasn't up for much conversation. Not much gets past my dad.

So I pulled on my jacket, pulled out my keys, and grabbed my helmet. I wondered what my old acquaintances would've thought of me as I climbed onto my bike. The thin little math whiz, turned into a leather-clad biker... ah well. Maybe I'd see a few of them again sometime, and they could comment.

A few of the trees were already starting to change colour as I drove, reminding me of how much farther north we'd come. I tried not to pay it much mind, concentrating instead on the drive. The wind felt good, if a little cool, tugging at both my ponytail and my real tail. The latter was probably shedding a black-and-white chaff cloud, but I didn't care. It just felt good to be on the road.

All too soon, however, I arrived at my destination, pulling into the small student parking lot. Kickstand down, wheel spokes locked to the forks, keys in hand... I was as ready as I'd ever be.

I started with a look around the outside. The school was a nice place, really, with curving architecture and quite a few well-tended garden plots. Most of the flowers were done, but some late bloomers were still making a good showing.

The athletic fields were mostly empty, but not quite. There was one person on the nearest field, an otter in a red-and-gold jersey and shorts; the school colours. He was kicking a soccer ball around, and was close enough for me to read the number 24 on his jersey, and to see that it was loose on him. He was tall and very slender; the jersey wasn't large on him, it was just meant for someone proportionally broader. Now and again, as he came toward the end of the field where I stood, his jersey would hike up a little, get caught by the wind, briefly show his back or his belly.

I don't know how to describe the feeling that went through me right at that moment. It tingled; it made my fur try to stand on end, it sped up my pulse and my breathing. All I could think was, Whoa. Though thick, the otter's oily fur clung tight to him, and I could see quite easily that he was all muscle under that jersey. Not the type of muscle that comes from lifting weights, but that lean tone one got from always being active, from running.

I shivered and forced my legs to carry me on inside.

This wasn't like anything I'd had to deal with in the past. Another guy... well, I'd had some warning. After five girlfriends didn't work out – the last getting to the bedroom before it stalled and downscaled to a simple friendship – my dad had taken me aside for a long talk on the matter. Well, this morning I learned that he was, as usual, right.

Still... so what? Sure, he looked great, but what was to say we had anything in common? I had yet to meet any athletic person that I could stand talking to. Oh, I couldn't wait to get home, to do something about the way that body and its motion made me feel... but a boyfriend? Yeah, right.

The halls were starting to fill up as I finished my quick tour and found my locker. I got some guarded looks – after all, I was a stranger, though plainly in my upper years – but no hostility, no wrinkled noses. A few nods, even.

For the first time I can remember, I was smiling as I sat down in my first classroom of the day. Right near the front; right beside the door. The class was about half full already and people were streaming in, but most of the people were clustering toward the back.

Then, just before the bell, he came in. Yes, him. That same otter I'd seen on the field, having traded his jersey for a similar-coloured T-shirt that fit him in much the same way. When he walked in there were still a number of seats open, but with the desks two to a row, not all of them were as easy to get into; I'd climbed into mine, whereas one could just slide into the one beside me. Most people preferred those left-side desks, though, so only two like it were still open.

He said a few words – too soft for me to hear, even from a few feet away – to the tigress about to set down her things, and when she nodded and padded a bit further down the aisle, he slid in beside me. My heart leaped up into my throat. His thick tail, curling around to lie under his desk, brushed against mine, making us both start, and that tingly feeling was back in force. "Sorry," he whispered.

"It's okay." More than okay, in fact, but I couldn't say that. I pulled my tail a bit tighter toward me.

This wasn't grade 9 anymore, that everyone had to take the same classes. This was upper-year algebra, one of the harder courses at the school, and someone would only be taking it if it fit their studies. Maybe I'd been a bit too quick to assume "jock"...

Damn, this was going to be rough. Spending the first hour every morning right beside the first crush of my life, the smell of his musk and of his oily fur strong in my nose... oh, there was no doubt about it, I wanted that otter. But someone like that must've had girls climbing all over him... yikes, that image did not help.

Oh God, this was going to be Pheromone Central...

The bell rang – a distraction, thank goodness – and the teacher, a youngish lioness, started taking attendance. I barely remembered to acknowledge my name, but I did hear that the otter was named Jeff.

The teacher, one Ms. Fae, got right down to business and started passing out the textbooks. Jeff wrote his name in his and scanned through the table of contents, then shut it and drummed his fingers on the glossy cover.

He leaned over. "Did I see you by the soccer field about half an hour ago, with a bike helmet?"

I blinked. Well, in hindsight, there hadn't been anyone else to look at, so I would stand out just a little... "Yeah," I whispered back. "Thought I'd take a look around the place before school."

"So you are new here? I didn't think I'd remembered you from before..."

I nodded. "Just moved here about a month ago."

He nodded back, saying "Cool," and put a hand over. "Jeff Thorne."

After a moment's hesitation, I made myself take his hand, careful not to squeeze too hard. "Cale Johnson."

He smiled.

This was either very good or very bad, and I wasn't quite sure which... maybe both.

After the textbooks came the seating plan, fixing us side-by-side for the next five months.

The rest of the class was the usual rigmarole of school policies, which evidently were the same across the nation; nothing new to be learned there. Finally class ended; time for the next one.

Jeff wasn't in my Physics class, but when I got to the cafeteria with lunch in hand, I found that he'd saved a spot for me. It was about then that I started thinking this would turn out to be a good thing.

It turned out that Jeff had been in Latin class, of all things. I know some French because I had to take it up to grade 9, but that's the extent of my foreign languages. Listening to him talk about it over lunch, I sort of started to regret that. If I didn't know what a word meant, I generally had to look it up; but with Latin and, as it turned out, some self-taught Greek, Jeff could often puzzle out the bigger words, not just in English but other languages too. Handy for a doctor, I guess, which is what he said he was hoping to go into; medicine or physiotherapy.

It was getting close to the end of the lunch period, both our meals long since consumed, when he said to me, "Being new around here, you must not have had much chance to get around town, have you? I could show you around after school, if you want."

I almost went into shock.

Surprisingly, I didn't stammer as I said, "That'd be great! I'll have to go home first, wait for my dad to get off work and check with him, but it'd probably be okay. He gets home around four."

"Great! Er..." He drooped a little. "I don't have a car."

I winced. "I've got a motorcycle, but I don't know if that's the greatest thing to double up on..."

"No, that's fine!" Bright and perky again, whiskers twitching.

"I'll bring a spare helmet," I promised, trying to keep my voice level despite the sudden tightness in my pants. "Where should I meet you? And how can I get in touch with you if I have to cancel?"

He bit his lip, thinking. "Got a piece of paper?"

I always had paper. I took out my notepad and pencil, flipped it open to a blank page, and handed them over. He wrote industriously for a few moments, then paused, squinting at the page. "You draw or something?"

He must've seen the imprints on the page... "A little," I admitted. "I use that for quick sketches, nothing fancy."

"I'd love to see some," Jeff said with a smile.

And once again I thought, Whoa.

I rearranged myself down below – unobtrusively, I hoped; at least nobody commented – as I took the pad back. He'd written his address and phone number. I recognised the street as being one right near the school; about ten minutes away from my home, plus a few minutes more, maybe, to find the right house. Underneath it I wrote, Bring sketchbook. I'd probably remember, but it never hurt to be sure.

Then it was time for class. He was in my English class, and again in Chemistry. I learned that while he was into some sports, and had PhysEd next semester where I had Economics, he saw them mostly as a way to stay fit. He didn't watch sports, or indeed much TV at all; when he wasn't out and about, being active, he was usually reading. Competent with computers, though hardly a genius with them. He had an older brother, who was already at university in British Columbia. An avid swimmer – of course – who could take a dip in the middle of winter and hardly feel the cold.

Swimming was one activity I liked, even though it took my fur forever to dry, on my tail especially; but even now, with summer just fading, it was a little too chilly around here for my taste. He, on the other hand, hardly got wet unless he made an effort to scrub the oil off his thick fur.

The last bell of the day arrived, bringing with it mixed feelings. Class was totally uninteresting so far, but I didn't look forward to having to go home alone, wait for my parents' approval, with that slim chance of denial... still, there was something I needed to tend to before I asked my dad's permission and, hopefully, dashed right out the door. I promised to call Jeff once I'd got an answer, stuffed my things in my pack, and drove home as fast as I dared.

Locking the front door behind me and tossing my helmet on its hook, I ran – yes, ran – into my room and jumped onto my bed. I'd never been so hard in my life as I was at that moment. I tore open my fly and reached into my tented boxers. The cool air on my taut, bare skin made me gasp and moan, and I started pumping like crazy. With my left hand I pulled my shirt up, stroking my chest, my hard nipples. I closed my eyes and I could see him in my mind. I pictured his hand teasing my nipples, his hand flying up and down my needy member... God, it felt so good...

I was just starting to feel that weightless, floating sensation when a barrage of thoughts forced their way through my hormone-clouded brain. I didn't want to go out smelling of semen, nor did I want to go out freshly-scrubbed and make this seem like more than it was; but I needed to get off. I couldn't risk popping a hard-on in public, or worse, against his back as we rode.

Two seconds of frenzied thought and I had my answer. I dashed into the bathroom, then back to my bed, fondling myself the whole way. Laying a washcloth on my belly, I closed my eyes again and pictured him, stripped to the waist and touching me...

The front door opened just as my cock came alive, semen exploding out of me and soaking into the coarse cloth. It was the hardest, most intense orgasm of my life, and seemed to go on forever, spurt after spurt of my sticky white seed.

I lay back, gasping, as my dad hung up his things and moved into the living room. Deep breaths... calm down... Still a bit shaky, I wiped myself off, wadded up the cloth, and stashed it away. My fur seemed to have been left clean. I tucked myself back into my shorts and did up my fly, and scampered downstairs, still a bit breathy, though now it was from anticipation.

"Well, hello there, son!" Dad stood up and pulled me into a quick embrace. "You must have had a good day, to be so excited."

I grinned and nodded. "Someone at school offered to show me around a bit."

"Say no more," Dad interrupted, and gave me a pat between the shoulders. "You're old enough to make up your own mind. Any idea when you'll be back?"

Drat. I should've known I'd forget something... I shook my head.

"Well, take my phone. Just call if you're going to stay out late or spend the night somewhere. Drive carefully, son."

Sweet...

I touched my nose against his cheek. "Thanks, Dad. I love you."

He returned the gesture. "I love you too, Cale."

I grabbed my things. Sketchbook, cell phone, spare helmet, money in my wallet... that was about it. I rang his number; he answered, and I told him I'd be there in ten to fifteen. Then I was off.

He lived a block away from the school, as it turned out, and was waiting on the curb in a light denim jacket, tailored a bit better to his form though still loose to keep from chafing his fur. I handed down the helmet and he tugged it on eagerly. His tail made things tricky; in the end he sat behind me, arms around my waist and feet inside of mine. He gave me directions and we were off.

Normally I liked my tail to be in the open, but I had absolutely no complaints about it being sandwiched between us. None at all... nor about his arms around me... if I hadn't just climaxed fifteen minutes before, I'd almost certainly have been hard then.

We looked at a popular student hangout; Jeff told me that the food wasn't great, but it was edible and it was cheap, the latter being a great advantage over the school cafeteria. Then to a skate park, and I swore he read my mind to pick that; it had been a while and my pads were still packed away, but suddenly I had a mind to dig out my board and get back into skating. Jeff said he didn't skate, himself, but it was still a nice place to relax on a warm day, and close to school.

The pool was a bit farther away, but that was a mutual interest... and even if I might never be more than friends with him, I at least wanted to be that much.

Six o'clock found us at Arby's for a quick meal; he had his own cash so there was nothing to suggest we were more than friends, which was only fair. We looked around a mall, even checked out a few stores – mostly for games, computer or otherwise – but neither of us ended up buying anything.

Seven o'clock rolled around. He couldn't think of anything else to show me and I didn't have anything I wanted to look for, and it was then that I remembered my sketchbook.

Jeff bit his lip. "There's a park out on the edge of the city," he suggested, hesitant. "A quiet place, looks nice too... great place to watch the sunset. I don't get there nearly as often as I'd like..."

It sounded great, and I told him so.

Ten minutes later, we found a quiet little promontory overlooking the lake and sat down on the still-lush grass. The place wasn't tended; the grass was quite long, and some had gone to seed. But that same length made it quite comfortable to sit on. Jeff leafed through my drawings, and we chatted.

"Did you leave a lot of friends behind when you came here?"

I shook my head. "Just a few. I've never been one to jump right into the centre of attention; crowds make me nervous." Generally because the attention I received tended to be negative, which was bad enough in a small group of people... no way I was going to encourage that from a crowd.

A rustle of paper. "Anything... more?"

I couldn't read him. I wanted to, but I just couldn't. Was he concerned, curious, just making small talk? I had no idea. "No," I admitted, but not for lack of trying."

He nodded, sighing. "I know how that feels. I've tried to get close to some really good girls, and they were willing enough, but... they just didn't do it for me."

My heart leapt into my throat.

For the rest of that week we were inseparable. We'd hang out in the morning before school started, do our work together, eat lunch across from one another, and each afternoon we found something to do. Every day, too, I'd get home and need to shut myself in my room for a few minutes. Being with Jeff was great, but at the same time it hurt.

Friday evening, being one of the days I'd actually been home for supper, I was anxious. I was going to meet Jeff at the pool, and I fretted...

"What's on your mind, Cale?" my mother asked, standing behind my chair and rubbing my shoulders. "You're so tense..."

I sighed – partly regretting my situation, partly because that touch just felt so damn good. "Is it right to keep secrets from someone?"

"That depends on the person, and the secrets," she said after a moment's pause. "Don't go revealing everything about yourself to total strangers, to be sure... is this about that friend you've been spending so much time with lately?"

I nodded, biting my lip.

"Oh, dear. Well... if I'm thinking what you're thinking... he does have a right to know. But be gentle about it. Take your time."

Gentle. Right.

For a while, though, I could forget about it. We frolicked in the warm water for, oh, two hours at least. I had to take breaks quite a bit, and there was no way I'd ever be as at home in the water as he was, but it was a lot of fun.

We had the locker room pretty much to ourselves when we were done, and as we were showering I noticed that he seemed to be getting a bit... apprehensive. Suddenly nervous, I looked down at myself, but my body was behaving... still, I had to tell him. Just to be sure.

He finished his shower well before I did. I preferred to clean off thoroughly; he gave himself a good rinse, but a deep-down wash would need lots of scrubbing, lots of shampoo, and lots of time to dry. He paused for a moment at the door, looking back, but moved on before I quite nerved myself to smile.

Thoroughly lathered, I started the involved process of rinsing out my fur. Then it was the equally involved and actually somewhat tiring process of getting it mostly dry, which lightened my load by a couple pounds. By the time I was satisfied that I was as dry as I could get here – my towel being as wet as or wetter than my fur – and I wrapped the once-fluffy cloth around me to head for the lockers, Jeff looked almost completely dry and had pulled his pants on.

He seemed downright anxious, now, his eyes flicking over to me as I sat down but not otherwise acknowledging me; his movements were slow as he pulled on his shirt, his thoughts seemingly elsewhere.

It'd probably be best if I at least got some clothes on before telling him. So I opened my locker and reached for my boxers.

"Hell," he suddenly exclaimed. That got my attention; I'd never heard him swear yet. "Cale, there's something I've got to tell you..."

So there we were, sitting on the bench by our open lockers, him dressed, myself damp and wearing only a towel. It felt odd that I was the one to be giving a sensitive ear to him, in that state. He shuffled a little closer to me, taking deep breaths, and I waited for him to say what was bugging him.

"Remember how I told you I could never quite fit with girls?" I nodded, and he went on: "Well, I know why none of them worked out. I know, I shouldn't label people, shouldn't try to put them into nice little categories... but there's one thing I know they all had in common, and I know why it didn't work out for me, and I can't hide it anymore." He took a breath, and another.

Once again, my heart leapt up into my throat. I knew those thoughts... oh God, how well I knew them...

"Cale..." He swallowed, and his hand opened, shut, opened; I took it in mine, and he took a deep, shuddering breath before continuing.

In unison, as though we'd rehearsed it dozens of times, both of us said, "I'm gay."

God. I felt so much better now... even if we stayed as just friends, I at least could sleep a little easier, knowing that he knew and understood. Knowing that we had this in common.

He blinked, and stared at me, his dark eyes wide. "You... you mean it?"

I nodded, unable to speak.

The sudden loss of tension in him was a visible thing. With a massive sigh of relief, he leaned his head into my wet shoulder; automatically I held him there, stroked his hair, just like my dad would.

"Thanks, Cale," he whispered. "I haven't told anyone else, but... I needed to tell someone. And you deserved to know."

If only I had some way of telling him how much better I felt, for sharing that secret...

"Cale?"

I lay back on the bed, thoroughly enjoying his presence beside me. I reached out and scratched between his shoulders, digging my fingers through the thick fur. "Yeah?"

He pressed his blunt snout under my chin, sending a shiver through me. "Thanks," he murmured, and licked my collarbone.

Oh God yes... "W-what for?"

"Just for being you." He buried his hand in my chest-fur and ruffled it up.

Yes... oh yes... I ran my other hand down his bare chest, feeling his hard muscle, feeling it twitch under my fingers, stroking slowly along his spine to the base of his thick tail, drawing a small gasp from his mouth. I quailed for a moment, but he didn't protest, didn't pull away; he answered my touch in kind, fingers brushing ever so gently across my nipples. It was electric, and my whole body surged up to meet his touch, my hand brushing across his belly. Just a bit farther...

"Cale!"

I gasped and sat up in bed. My mom... why hadn't I remembered her? "Yeah?"

"Telephone for you, hon!"

I looked down beside me. No otter.

Damn! I woke up too soon...

Then I looked down at my body. Rock-hard.

Well, at least now I could treat the phone call as a good thing. I staggered over and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi, Cale." It was him, all right. "Sorry to bring this up out of the blue, but... my dad's in a temper, and I really need to get out of the house for a while. Mom says I can stay out for the night, if I find someplace to stay..."

Ouch. On the one hand this seemed like an amazing stroke of luck, but for it to come about because of something that nasty... "Just a moment, Jeff, I'll ask my mom."

"Okay," was the small-voiced reply.

If the rest of the conversation hadn't got me soft again, that one veiled plea would have done the job in a flash...

Very carefully, I set the phone down. This was one call I did not want to hang up on... I went down the stairs in record time and arrived, out of breath, in the kitchen.

Mom looked over from the stove. "What's up, Cale?"

Okay, deep breath, nothing to be ashamed of... "Can my friend Jeff come over for the night?"

She must've known something was up – maybe I gave it away, or maybe it was just the timing – because she frowned for a moment. Then she nodded. "Sure. It'll be nice to meet this friend of yours. Ask him if he's eaten yet tonight; if not I'll set him a place."

"I'll do that," I promised.

Back upstairs... at this rate I'd be fit for the hundred-meter dash, come spring. I told Jeff the news – he hadn't eaten supper yet, it turned out – and promised to be over in a few minutes.

There was no joy in the ride, this time. There was a shadow over everything, and while Jeff definitely seemed worse off, it kind of got to me, too. I liked having him behind me, but... it didn't make my heart speed up like it usually did.

"Nice place," Jeff said once we'd come to a stop in the driveway.

As much as I hate bragging, I had to agree. "Dad has a good job. Good enough that we couldn't stay where we were when the job moved. I didn't think I'd like it, but colder weather aside, everything's been better since." I looked over and tried a smile.

It worked. He smiled back, whiskers lifting a little.

That little smile would've made the effort worthwhile if there had been ten times more of it. My own smile became much more genuine.

Dad had evidently got back home while I was gone, because his car was in the garage; as it turned out he was still in the porch when we arrived, just hanging up his jacket. He turned at our entrance, smiling. "Hello there, son."

"Hi, Dad."

I was about to say more, but he was already turning to Jeff, and taking his hand. "Hello. You must be the one we've been hearing about lately. I'm Matthew Johnson; nice to meet you."

Jeff shook hands, introduced himself, and smiled.

My mom went so far as to give me a kiss, though she just shook Jeff's hand and welcomed him. "Dinner will be in about half an hour," she informed us. "You're not allergic to anything, are you, Jeff?"

He shook his head, still smiling.

She chuckled. "You two are such a pair. Not that I'm complaining; you can go right on being quiet. Have fun, guys!"

My room wasn't that big, but partly because of that, I kept it tidy, so it looked more spacious than it was. I pulled my chair out from under the desk and was about to sit on the bed when Jeff beat me to it.

I really wanted to sit down beside him... but I took the chair.

"Your parents seem like great folks," he sighed.

"They've always been there for me, whatever I needed; but they also let me be when that's what I need." I tugged the chair a bit closer. "What happened with your dad?"

Silence. For quite some time he didn't move a muscle.

Uh-oh.

I swallowed. "If you'd rather not say, we could do something else, or—"

"No, wait..." He lifted his head, eyes shimmering. "I do want to say it."

I nodded, and shuffled a bit closer – as close as I dared, as close as I could get without touching.

The explanation, when it came, was barely audible.

"He finally started using the Internet. And he found out that this one site my brother mentioned has pictures of guys kissing guys. He insisted on calling him, right then... even from the other side of the house I could hear every word he said. Going all religious about it..." He looked up a bit more, and his dark eyes seemed to suck me in. "Cale, my brother's engaged. He's going to be married to a great girl after he graduates this year. And my dad was threatening to disown him, just because this site had a few pictures on it... I don't know what he'll do if he learns..." He swallowed, and blinked a few tears away.

I don't know what possessed me then. One moment we were sitting almost knee-to-knee; the next I was beside him, holding him against me, stroking his hair. I didn't soothe him, tell him it was all right. I couldn't; I didn't know, and I was scared. What I could do – what I did – was hold him, let him feel me, let him know that he wasn't alone.

He didn't cling to me. But he did lean into my side.

The next thing I knew, Mom was calling us down for supper.

I blinked, and looked at Jeff. He smiled back, and hopped up to his feet. I still couldn't believe it had been a half hour already – until I tried to follow him, and found out how stiff I was. For once, the weight of my tail came in handy, keeping me from lurching forward and pitching face-first into the carpet.

I don't even remember what dinner was that night. I hardly tasted it. My mind was running in circles. There was Jeff, right beside me... but only because his home life had plummeted. I didn't know what to do, and I was still scared.

We took our ice cream downstairs, and I dug some sleeping bags and pillows out of storage. Jeff rummaged through the videos and found my dad's anime collection. I wasn't a big fan of the stuff, but had no real objections, so we watched that for a while, sitting on either end of the couch and slowly finishing our dessert.

It was okay. Dad only kept the better stuff, so style aside it was about what I could expect from another sort of movie. Better, in some ways. And of course, Jeff was just a few feet away from me; even if I didn't care for what was happening on the screen, I could look over and watch him, the light dancing in his eyes, the shifting of his expressions, the rise and fall of his chest. He was so beautiful...

And under the beauty of his body was a mind I'd really come to like. I was so glad he was here...

The movie came to an end. We let it rewind, and we talked. We talked about school, his brother, my parents, the places my family had been. We talked until about ten o'clock, and then we decided it was time for sleep.

Out came the sleeping bags. I didn't strip down as I usually did, but I did shrug out of my shirt and pants. Jeff, similarly wearing boxers – red ones – gave me a curious look. "You do like black and white, don't you?"

I shrugged. "It's what I was born with, and I haven't found anything that goes as well with both as each other. ...Did that make sense?"

He nodded. "Sure," he said, crawling into his sleeping bag.

I hurried to turn off the lights and do the same. Damn, he was so beautiful, so muscular... it made my whole body feel a bit tighter just to look at him, even in the dark. If only... I shook my head and tried to get some sleep.

Some time later, I noticed Jeff was moving around... shivering, even. For the second time that night, I did something totally unexpected; I shuffled closer to him, pressing up against his back.

For the second time that night, it soothed him.

And we slept.

"Those pads fit okay? You can still move around?"

"Yeah." Jeff flexed a few limbs, as proof. "I've put on pads before, I know how it goes."

"Oh. Right." Feeling a little flushed, I checked my own gloves. Of course a soccer player would know about pads. For all I knew they were exactly the same pads.

Well, I didn't have a full set; just the gloves. A few trial attempts had shown that I still had some of my old balance, so I opted to just protect my hands and fall on them, if I did fall.

"So I guess you know how to fall, too."

Jeff smiled and nodded. "Sort of. Never had to worry about falling this way, though."

"But you're not going to go all rigid."

He shook his head. "Break bones that way."

I knew people who had done just that... they'd put out a hand to break their fall, and end up in a cast and sling, or worse, because they kept their elbow locked.

Well, time to get on with it. He looked fine, though a little bit uncertain. "Up you get," I said, pulling a board over with my foot. It was an older one, stiffer than the one I used more often; easier to keep one's balance on. Still, that was a relative term, and it took a few tries before he could stay on for any length of time. Starting to move around took longer.

"Use your tail," I instructed, moving along with him – fortunately enough, he'd chosen an opposite stance to mine, so we could go along face-to-face. "Just a little bit of a shift makes a lot of difference, and you've got a lot more weight than I do, back there. Use it."

Time went on. Skinny and dressed in loose clothing, I sort of matched some of the other skaters around at a cursory glance, though not when one looked deeper. Jeff, well, he was skinny and dressed in loose clothing too, but it was still easy to see that he had a lot more muscle tone than most.

He also earned some double-takes and appraising looks. Not, I couldn't help but notice, only from the few girls in the park. A pair of the long, thin boys were covertly taking steps to skate a little closer. Out of thirty or so, two wasn't many, but I noticed.

Not too long ago, I'd never have noticed things like that. Then again, I'd never given people that sort of look myself, until recently.

"It gets better," I assured Jeff. "But there's always something more to learn, too."

"Like riding a bike," he said, "except that I can hardly turn one way – " He tried to push himself faster, but planted his foot too far forward; the tail flipped up, the nose dug into the pavement, and the board skidded to a halt. Jeff hit the pavement hard and sprawled out.

I hopped off my board, caught it, and crouched down. "You okay?" His stillness worried me. More than that, it scared me. Even though I didn't know how he felt about me, I really felt quite strongly about him, and the thought of him being hurt almost made me sick.

But he stirred, lifted his head, and looked at me – winded and evidently a bit dazed, but mostly alert. "It's also a trick to speed up," he observed. "But at least I don't have to worry about getting tangled like I would with a bike. Yeah, I'm fine, I'll just need a few moments..."

I nodded and sat on my board. I sort of wanted to help him up, but at the same time I didn't want to mother him. After a few moments to catch his breath he was up again, back at it, none the worse for the wear.

We skated together for a while longer, then I left him to practise while I skated around the park, learning what was where, brushing up on my skills. After the first few moments, it all came back to me pretty quick.

I was just hopping down after a grind along a railing when a sight caught my eye: the two guys I'd seen looking at Jeff, now skating slowly, face to face, inches apart. The one on the left, a badger, reached his right arm around the kangaroo's waist, his left hand cupping his partner's head, drawing him still closer. The 'roo just reached both arms around the badgers waist, and slowly, as if they had all the time in the world, their lips met.

Something about the way they did it just made me feel... good. Warm, optimistic, happy. I watched until they pulled apart and skated off; then, turning, found that Jeff happened to be skating roughly this way. I picked a path that would intersect his, and made my way over.

"How goes it?"

Jeff shrugged. "I haven't fallen down since you left, so I guess that's a good sign. Still hard to stay on, but I've landed on my feet."

"That's good," I assured him. "Think you'll like it?"

Another shrugs. "It's okay, I guess... I don't hate it..."

The "but" remained unsaid, but I could just feel it there. "Well, thanks for trying, Jeff. I appreciate it."

He smiled a brilliant smile. "I'm glad I did."

Movement caught my eye, and I was reminded. "Jeff, did you know about those two?" I nodded at the pair I'd just observed – presently separate, but still drifting close enough to touch each other now and then.

"Hmmm? Oh! Ricky and Fred. Yeah, I've... seen them around for a while." His eyes glimmered. "Kind of gave me a little hope."

I nodded, slowly. That was what I felt when I saw them together... hope.

"What were things like where you come from?" Jeff asked, snapping me out of my reverie. "Did you... were you seeing someone?" He bit his lip.

I shook my head. "No, I didn't really have much of a social life for the move to shake up. The few people I talked to before, I still talk to online." Relief flooded his face.

For a moment I paused. Could he...? But I already knew he was a good, sincere friend, so it wasn't really surprising that he'd be concerned. I went on. "Even before that... I had a string of girlfriends, people I got along with. The last, Jessica... she was a great person. Smart, kind; quiet but strong. I thought if anyone could be right for me, it was her. We even... tried to take the next step." The words came out in a rush, my ears burning. "But I couldn't... couldn't do it. It was shortly after that, in May, that my dad put two and two together and had a talk with me."

He blinked. "Your parents know?"

"Before I did myself, I guess."

Disbelief and shock. "That's just... I can't even begin to picture it. It's incredible."

"Maybe things will settle down a little," I offered. "It's becoming more visible all the time. He'll have to deal with it sometime."

"Probably not until I'm in university, if that. He just shuts out the world sometimes..."

Not sure how to reply to that, I looked forward – just in time to see that we were fast approaching a nasty pothole. By the time my brain got into gear, it was too late to do anything about it.

We were falling. Automatically we reached out and clutched at each other, but that didn't lend any support. My rump hit the ground hard, forcing a grunt out of my lungs. Then we were rolling over each other, slowing, balance gradually reasserting itself until we came to a halt.

Winded, we stayed as we were for a few moments. But as I got my breath back, I became aware of our closeness, of his weight on top of me, of the warmth of his body. I didn't want to move.

He looked down at my face, and his arms shifted a little, but stayed around me. "You know," he offered, "this feels pretty good."

"Yeah," I breathed. "Shame about the bruising it took to get here."

"So maybe we shouldn't wait for that in the future." His breath was decidedly warm on my face. Either I'd lifted my head up or he'd brought his down. I didn't know, and I didn't care. What mattered was that he was close.

"No, we shouldn't," I agreed, my lips brushing against his. That slight contact felt wonderful, made me anxious for more.

Jeff did not disappoint, tilting his head and pressing his lips to mine. Words forgotten, I moved my hand up to his neck, felt him, pulled him tighter against me, inhaling his scent and his breath.

It seemed like forever, but could only have been a few seconds when we parted. All either of us could say – and we did, together – was the one word, "Wow."

Friday after the third week of school, on the 23^rd, we'd decided to spend the weekend together – camp out or something. Mostly to have fun, but also to get some serious talking done. I pulled up to his house at five and swung off my bike. Always before, Jeff had been waiting on the curb. It was with some hesitation that I raised my hand to the doorbell. Then the waiting... though it wasn't long before the door swung in to reveal a short, lightly-built otter woman. "Hello," she greeted in a voice that could be nothing but maternal. "Cale, is it? Come inside, come inside." After she had successfully chivvied me in the door, she shut it and took my coat to hang up. "Jeffrey is still upstairs, but – " A rapid patter of feet. "There he is now." She smiled and slipped into another room as Jeff rounded the corner, settling his shirt in place.

"Was finishing homework," he panted. "Done now, though. I did most of it at school. Oh, hi, Dad, how was work?"

I turned around and involuntarily took a step back.

Jeff's slender build no doubt came from his mother, but it was even easier to see where he got his height. His father was huge, well over six feet and burly, barely any hint of paunch. The oily fur that made Jeff look so sleek made it that much easier to see his father's strength.

He looked at me with serious eyes, then glanced at his son. "It was work," he replied in a thunderous bass. "So this is the young man you've been spending so much time with, is it? And again tonight?" He scowled, making me want to shrink into myself. "I'm not sure I approve..."

"Paul!" The sudden bark made all of us start. There was Mrs. Thorne, leaning on the doorframe of what seemed to be the kitchen, judging by the odours that wafted out at her appearance. "You've never had a problem with his friends before. Now let the boy enjoy himself and come inside. Your dinner's cooling on the table."

The big man gave her a cool look and squeezed by her into the kitchen.

Jeff's mother looked from one of us to the other and smiled, coming closer. In a low voice, she said, "I think you boys should lie low for a while. He's awfully suspicious right now, but that'll pass."

I blinked, trying to figure out exactly what she was saying. Jeff, evidently a bit quicker on the uptake, stared at her.

"Don't worry too much," she said, handing me my coat again. "He may gripe, but he'll get over it. He always does. Just keep your relationship out of his sight until he has time to think about it."

Jeff swallowed, nodding. Myself, I almost fell over. Were we really that obvious?

She reached up to cup her fingers under my chin. "I'll never understand why things are this way," she admitted, "but you've made my son happy. God bless you." Stretching up on tiptoe, she planted a kiss on my cheek. Giving another to her son, she went back into the kitchen.

I looked at Jeff. He looked at me. Confused, we went outside in silence.

By the time either of us spoke again, unspoken accord had brought us back to the park, on that quiet little point over the lake, the thick bushes giving us total privacy. My bike was parked where we could see it through the branches, but anyone coming close enough to talk to us would make a dreadful racket among the fallen leaves.

And when I finally opened my mouth, all I could think of to say was, "I didn't mean to interrupt your homework." Damn it.

But it seemed like it offered just the steady ground he was looking for. "It's okay. I was on the last question when I heard the doorbell, and just needed a few more moments to finish. I'm all done for the weekend."

"Oh. Me too."

Silence.

What was going on in that head of his, behind those beautiful dark eyes? What was he thinking? How did he feel about me? How I wanted to know.

But I'd never been good at gauging people before, and Jeff had proved to be no exception to that.

"Jeff?"

"Mm?" He'd lain down against a mossy stump, but now cracked an eye open.

"What are you thinking?"

He looked up at me with a smile. "I like being here," he said, "with you. Being close. It's like... it's like a blanket when I never knew I was cold."

Ah, the pictures that raised... I leaned over and kissed his brow. "I'm so glad I found you."

He reached around me and pulled me down beside him. I lay down without protest or struggle, and he traded his old, cold pillow for my shoulder, his hand splayed across my chest, mine over his, each of us feeling the other's heartbeat.

We sat there until the sun was low across the lake, and then we stood and brushed leaves off our clothes and fur, and walked along the lakeshore. We didn't say anything, but this time it was because we didn't need to, not because we couldn't. If one of us wanted to ask a question, all he had to do was look at the other and see the answer right there. We were connected, deep down, and it felt wonderful.

Night found us riding, his arms around me as always before, but there was something special about it now. I didn't have to hide how good it made me feel. I did have to adjust my pants when we got back to my house – that made my ears burn, but Jeff cooled them down quick enough by giving one a soft kiss.

My parents, for their part, were about to head upstairs for bed. "We've got some business to take care of back down south," my father told me. "We'll be leaving at about five to beat the traffic, and spending the night down there. Probably won't be back until late Sunday. Don't scare the neighbours too much." He mussed up my hair and followed my mother upstairs.

"House to myself," I breathed. After a moment I added, "Sweet."

He grinned at me. "Looks like a nice weekend ahead. So what do you want to do first."

A pause.

"Let's go downstairs and think of something," I suggested. That was the best place to avoid disturbing my parents. My room had entertainments enough, but was just down the hall from theirs, so I didn't want to be tactless.

Once again we shared the couch. This time, however, we weren't sitting at the ends, but right in the middle. We watched TV for about half an hour, before getting bored with it and turning it off. I don't know what he had in mind, but for me, Jeff himself was much more interesting than the commercial-interrupted flick.

He looked at me a little curiously, no doubt noticing my attention. "What are you thinking of doing now?" he inquired.

"Well..." I slid my arm around his waist and leaned a little closer. "Rather than waiting for another rough landing to prompt us..."

"Ooh, I like that line of thought," he purred, his hand finding my hip.

Once again we became joined at the mouth, sharing each other. His other hand stroked along my ear, making it twitch and shiver; it brushed over my snout, setting my whiskers trembling; it curled around the back of my neck, causing me to tilt my head back against it. His mouth withdrew from mine, letting me take a deep, gasping breath – but that locked in my throat as his teeth grazed the tendons of my outstretched neck.

Humming against my throat, he slid his fingers under my collar, running them over my shoulderblade. Under my hand I felt sleek fur, hard muscle, and the indentations of his spine. Our free hands met, mine covering his and bringing it to my chest, and he rubbed through my shirt, the friction on my nipple sending a shudder through me.

That motion, though, made him tense, the muscle bunching under my fingers. "Cale? Are you okay?"

"Please," I gasped. "Don't stop. It just feels so good..."

Still looking a bit concerned, he brought his muzzle in close again, his nose pressing against my neck and nudging just under my shirt, along my collarbone. I reached farther up his back, my hand leaving his and sliding along his arm, feeling the sleek muscle jump and tremble.

The fabric blocked my attempts to explore his body. My hand slid down his spine, claws trailing through the thick, dense fur, until I could grasp his shirt hem. With my other hand on his collar, his pulse strong against the back of my finger, I started to lift it off of him. For a moment he did not co-operate; then, with a moan, he lifted his hands from me and let his upper body be bared. The nuisance of a shirt flew over the back of the couch and was forgotten.

The instant his arms were free he bent over, gripping my hem and lifting it up, his snout rubbing and nudging under it, sliding up my belly and along my breastbone. My reluctance to move my hands was even greater than his had been. Once the clinging fabric was past my head I shook it down my arms and pulled one arm out of the sleeve; returning that hand to his bare back, I tossed the shirt after his own.

The sensation of his thick, oily fur sliding between my fingers was like nothing I'd felt before. I could happily drown in the stuff, inhaling its wonderful scent, which seemed to get ever stronger as I made my way down his side.

I felt the prick of three claws; one in the very centre of my forehead, and one on either side, at my eyebrows. Those claws scored lightly along my flesh, over my head, making my ears shiver and fold back, and down my neck and back. Right along my stripes. The gamut of sensations was so strong, I could hardly breathe. My heart was pounding in my chest like a jackhammer. I pressed my nose into his bellybutton, his rich scent drowning out all others, and started licking my way upwards.

His hand continued on, combing out my tail, and he ran the tip of one claw along the edge of my ear, followed by his cool, damp nose. "I love the way you smell," he breathed into it. "So rich... almost spicy. Don't ever try to hide it."

I nodded against his chest. "Everything about you is so wonderful," I murmured. "You look beautiful, sound beautiful... feel beautiful..." My hand slid down to the base of his tail. "Smell... and..." I pressed my tongue against his creamy chest-fur, finding and caressing the firm flesh of his nipple. "...and taste." He whimpered softly, pressing up against my muzzle.

When I felt his hands at my waistband, my brain almost shut down. Yes, chorused every instinct in my mind. Yes. Just a bit more... Though it only now intruded on my awareness, the tightness I felt informed me that my maleness was ready and willing to be released. No hiding it from him this time.

My belt loosened, my fly popped open, and my jeans started to slide down. It was all I could do not to scream as the denim chafed through the thin silk of my boxers. So rough it was almost painful, but that somehow made it feel even better, far more intense than anything I'd felt before.

With my throat locked tight, Jeff's sudden gasp was plainly audible to me. I opened my eyes, followed his gaze, watched as his trembling fingers approached the tent in my black boxers. And then they touched.

Another person, another man, was touching my erection.

I almost wept.

His nose pressed between my shoulder and neck, his blunt snout fitting there perfectly. "This is so wonderful," he murmured. "It's even better than I'd dreamed." He laid his hand on my thigh.

I eased my fingers under his waistband, feeling the base of his thick, muscular tail. "It is," I whispered. "Let's share it as we sleep..."

He moaned softly, a shuddering wave travelling down his tail. "Yes," he hissed, teeth grazing the base of my neck.

I eased his button open, and slid his zipper down one tooth at a time. His hands curled around my rear, squeezing, urging me onward. Then, moving my hands to his hips, I seized his shorts, and the thinner boxers beneath, and started to pull both off of his firm rear. One inch at a time... yes... there was what I hadn't dared look at in the pool shower, lying against his leg in plain view.

It was just a small part of him, no more than slightly stiff, and my gaze was quickly drawn along his muscular legs, which I took plenty of opportunity to feel as I pulled his clothes down; but seeing that bare flesh, with him aware of my attention and welcoming it, seemed to be a significant landmark.

Finally I pulled them off and tossed them away, leaving him naked beside me, naked as I'd never even dreamed him. His hands, rubbing my butt, slid under my boxers to touch me directly, thumbs hooking over my waistband and pulling down. I fumbled at the front, lifting the fabric and letting my trapped member free to slap against my belly.

I reached around and pulled him on top of me, stroking his tail, my member pressing up into his belly while his own rested, warm and soft, on my balls. Once again, our mouths sought each other out; and this time there was no barrier at all to the sense of merging.

I didn't want it to ever end. Though I knew it must, I wanted to hold it for as long as possible.

Never breaking the kiss, I reached up for the blanket draped over the back of the couch, and tugged it down. It was a little awkward, tucking us both in one-handed and with our mouths locked, but more than worth it.

Once that was done, we remained still until we slept.

I woke up some time later, roused by movement above. It was, according to the VCR, just before 4:30, and still dark outside. We hadn't moved much – our arms were still as I remembered them, and he was still on top of me – but evidently my unconscious body had had a bit less self-control than I'd had when awake. I could distinctly smell my semen, and a very careful movement confirmed that my fur was sticky.

Jeff was still asleep, and I sought to rejoin him in that state.

Then, all too clearly despite their whisper-softness, I heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

My parents had probably checked in on me, to see if I was all right before they left; they'd done so before, as I had totally forgotten. So when they didn't find me in my room...

Sure enough, a silhouette emerged from the dimly-lit stairs, resolving itself into my father as my eyes adjusted. He looked, saw us... looked around, almost certainly saw the scattered clothes... looked back at me.

Caught with another man, sticky with my seed; the acid test if ever there was one. I trembled; Jeff automatically held me just a bit tighter in his sleep, and some of my fear eased. At least I wouldn't be facing this completely alone... My dad had half turned to go, but must have seen the sudden panic I felt. He smiled a gentle smile, and padded over on bare, silent feet.

He touched his fingers to my cheek, smiling even more, and kissed my brow gently; then he leaned over and did the same to the sleeping otter, who snuggled a little bit closer to me with a small "Mm."

"I'm so happy for you," he whispered in my ear, and squeezed my shoulder.

Then he faded away.

All was right with my world. And I slept.