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"Discrete Details: Part 4"

By S. K. Gwinne

August 2019

Wes couldn't remember a time when he felt more on-track with life. Things were working out now, and not that they hadn't before, but there was less... insecurity. Things made sense, and he had Dennis to thank for it. Never mind that he got distracted in class daydreaming about the Cervine male whose lips and body belonged to him, whose bed he shared, and company he craved. Never mind that he had skipped practice once or twice to steal more time on available weekends to talk with and make love to his handsome partner.

It didn't matter to him that there were precious few promises involved. Who needed promises? Putting a ring on it didn't work for his parents. There was no magic with a marriage license that guaranteed love and life forevermore until death do anyone part. He would have admitted to being somewhat jaded about it, and maybe he was just afraid that trying to lock someone down with that brand of commitment made a half-life aimed at failure. It didn't matter. Right now, things were right, things were good. That's all that mattered.

"Dude," Patrick called out, trotting to catch up with him on the way to the showers. The Lupine male had yellow wolf eyes and lanky, angled features that made him look like he was always ready to kill something, but Wes knew better. Patrick was a minimal-confrontation guru, an expert at dispelling bad vibes and able to suffer much without losing his cool, although he had a bad habit of saying stupid shit that got him in trouble. "Hold up, bruh."

"What, you need someone to hold your hand in the shower or something?" one of the other football players sneered after him.

"You offering?" Patrick asked disinterestedly as he made it to Wes' side. "So here's what I'm thinking. This weekend is a great chance for a party."

"At your place?" Wes asked pointedly.

"Doesn't matter," Patrick redirected. "We can have it anywhere. But if we do it this weekend we can take advantage of the holiday four-day and really do some stuff. You know Shana's posse will come and make it worthwhile."

"Geez, you're talking about booze and orgies," Wes muttered disapprovingly.

"Doesn't have to be orgies, dude, but you could finally get Shana behind closed doors and turn in your V-Card for a C-Card."

"What the hell is a C-Card?" Wes asked as they passed into the locker room. He made for his storage closet and began tossing in his padding and dumping his linens on the floor.

"Cunt-Wrecker," Patrick explained plainly.

"Ugh!" Wes exclaimed with a disgusted frown. He grabbed his towel and body-wash and shook his head in disapproval at his Lupine friend while turning to the showers.

"What?!" Patrick asked hotly, stepping into his shower shoes awkwardly and trotting after Wes on the slippery tile floor.

"That's fuckin' gross," Wes reprimanded. "Why do you have to get so nasty with it?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Patrick began sarcastically, stepping into the half-stall next to him, "I only thought you wanted to get laid at some point this century. I didn't realize we were using our church words and stepping on eggshells and shit."

"We're not walking on eggshells," Wes corrected casually, lathering up and rubbing down his belly, "but you just... can't ram it home or anything. You have to start gentle and then build up to a good rhythm."

"How would you know?" Patrick asked. Wes opened and closed his mouth, not sure how to answer that. He could have simply replied that he had read about it, but it took him too long to think of it. "Hey, wait a sec," Patrick mumbled through a cloud of suds on his face. He fixed Wes with a suspicious stare and leaned over the partition between them as if inspecting the fine print on a poster. "Have you already had sex?"

"What are you talking about?" Wes replied, attempting his most disinterested tone.

"Dude," Patrick exclaimed loudly, "you've already turned in your V-Card, haven't you?"

Wes sighed and shoved his face under the water, letting the hot liquid torrent over him and carry the silky soap away. When he removed himself from the water and glanced to the right, Patrick was watching him expectantly.

"It's not a big deal, Patrick--"

"You did!" Patrick cried, throwing his hands wide. "With who? Why didn't you tell me? Was it Shana?"

"Pat, shut the fuck up," Wes chided angrily, causing the Lupine boy to wilt just a little. "I don't need you broadcasting this, and it's no one's business anyway."

"I know," Pat whined, "but for crying out loud, you got laid! What was it like? Does she have a friend? I need details!"

"Enough, Pat. It's a private matter. I'm not going to violate their trust by sharing intimate details about our time together."

"Whoa..." Pat exclaimed softly, backing into the shower stream and shaking soap and water everywhere. "So this wasn't just, like... sex. You, like, have feelings for this girl?"

"It's kind of serious," Wes acknowledged, taking his towel and walking toward the cyclone driers. He watched Patrick follow after him hesitantly, Lupine features registering that he was lost in thought. He couldn't have heard anything besides the roar of the vents anyway, and Pat didn't try to speak. Wes popped his neck, rolling his head back and forth, and stepped out before he was dry. He glanced over his shoulder and noted that Patrick didn't follow him immediately. His wolf friend appeared put out, catching that Wes didn't want to talk or hang out.

Wes hurriedly put on his change of clothes and checked his phone. He had no new text messages, but figured Dennis was probably just busy at work. He worried, though, that maybe Dennis didn't think of him as often during the day as Wes thought of Dennis. He found it harder and harder to stay focused, wishing he could just spend his days in the presence of his Cervine lover. Football just wasn't as fun, and his classes weren't as interesting. He would go home this Wednesday evening halfway through a drag of a week and still have two more days of not seeing Dennis to trudge through.

He sighed and dropped the phone into his shorts pocket, slapping the opposite pocket to check for his keys, and slammed the locker door shut irritably. He shuffled through the throng of mostly naked guys in the dank, soupy room and exited around the corner into the school hall. He had just about made it to the door to the parking lot when he heard someone call his name.

"Hey, Wes," Shana called excitedly, "wait up!"

Wes closed his eyes and sighed, but turned with a subtle smile on his face.

"Hey, Shana."

"Hey,you," she retorted, beaming. "You were great at practice today."

"Oh, yeah?" he asked modestly. "Thanks. I saw you and the squad were doing pretty well also."

"It's just the usual stuff, of course," she waived off, then placed a hand on his arm affectionately. "Um, actually, before you leave I was hoping to see if you had plans this weekend. My parents are out on Saturday, and I thought maybe we could hang out and watch a movie or something."

Wes felt his heartrate quicken and wondered internally at the irony of being wanted by one of the hottest girls in the school while not being attracted to girls at all.

"You know, I, uh..." Wes began, biting his lip pensively, "I do have plans this weekend, unfortunately. Sorry."

He watched the lioness' hopeful spirits disintegrate. Her ears fell back and hung low, and she looked away in defeat. Wes felt sorry for her, but didn't know what to say. He simply wasn't interested, and he couldn't give her what she wanted.

"Did I..." Shana began quietly, still looking away and folding her arms defensively, "did I do something to make you not like me?"

"Oh, Shana..." Wes groaned. This was gonna suck.

"I mean it, Wes," she continued, turning her big, green eyes to look up at him. "I like you so much, and... I'm not asking for more than a chance to get close to you. I promise I can earn it, you wouldn't be disappointed."

"It's nothing to do with you," Wes corrected, shuffling uneasily.

"Don't do that," she sighed, and he could see the tears begin to fall. "Don't say, it's not you, it's me... that's such a cop-out."

"It is me though," Wes insisted apologetically, scratching his chin. "There's nothing wrong with you."

"Then why don't you want me, Weston?" she asked. "Is there another girl, or someone you made a promise to? Just let me know so I can figure out what to do, because I can't stop liking you."

"I can't be with you, Shana."

"I just don't understand--"

"Shana!" Wes cried in frustration, "I can't be with you because I would be leading you along. We won't end up together in the end, and you deserve to be with someone who... isn't gay."

Wes swallowed hard and watched as Shana's eyes slowly grew wide. Someone snickered nearby and he turned to see a small group of transient students looking away quickly and walking the opposite direction. Among them was a very shocked-looking Patrick standing with his backpack over one shoulder and a half-open mouth.

"Wes..." Shana whispered, drawing his attention back. "Are you saying you're... gay?"

"I... yes," he answered, exhaling slowly. "I am."

"I had... no idea," Shana mused, shaking her head slowly. "I'm so sorry, if I had known..."

"How_could_ you know?" Wes asked, shrugging. "Fuck it, I'm out now, I guess, but I didn't tell anyone. It's not your fault."

"Wow," Shana exclaimed, tossing her hands wide and then letting them fall to her sides again. She seemed much calmer than before, less hurt, and for that Wes was grateful. "Okay, well... it's kind of a shame, but I also hope you're happy."

"Thanks," Wes offered, "for, uh... being understanding."

"Well," she continued, smiling, "maybe we can be friends then. If that's okay."

"Shana," Wes answered, rolling his eyes and grinning, "we already are friends."

He let her hug him and pat his chest before she turned to walk down the hall and continue on her way. Wes got the feeling she was retreating hastily, no doubt feeling awkward about the news, but she handled it well enough. He watched her leave and checked for any other onlookers before crossing the hall to Patrick, who stood by impatiently with a marked scowl on his face.

"Hey, Pat, I--"

"Don't even," Patrick interjected angrily. Wes could see the raw emotion on his face, the hurt, the pain, and the anger. "We've been best friends for seven years and you couldn't tell me you were gay? What the hell, man?"

"I'm sorry," Wes defended, "I didn't tell anyone. I only just told my dad a few months ago."

"Best friends, Wes," Patrick repeated, holding his hands wide. "We told each other things we've never told our parents, that's what being a best friend is about. You couldn't trust me with this?"

"I do trust you--"

"You told Shana first!" Patrick yelled, "And just to get her off your back!"

"Stop acting childish!" Wes roared in rebuttal. "This is why I didn't tell anyone, because nobody knows how to handle it without losing their shit!"

"I could have handled it--"

"You're not, though. My Dad was understanding, Shana was understanding, but you're the one jumping down my throat about it. Is that what best friends do?"

"Fuck you, Wes," Patrick spat, pointing angrily and stalking off. "Don't you fucking talk to me!"

Wes held his breath and watched Patrick storm away, punching an open locker on the way out the other side of the hall. He wanted to be angry, to feel justified, but he just felt sad... Hopefully Patrick would come around. He really was a good friend, and had always been. Why had he reacted so harshly about it? He tried to think of any indicators that Pat might have anything against gays, but... there weren't any.

The hall was mostly empty now at the end of the school day, and Wes knew there was nothing left for him here. He muttered a curse under his breath and pushed open the glass door, heading out into the parking lot and into the hot, sunny day.

* * *

Anton rifled through the mail on the kitchen counter, pausing only to push his reading glasses farther up his nose. He thought how funny it was that he was excited to see bills in the stack, but so much of what he got in the mailbox was just marketing trash and other crapola. He tore open the envelope on the energy bill and scowled at the amount... higher than usual. Whatever.

The back door opened and closed. Anton squinted at the clock on the microwave and smiled, realizing that would be Wes... well, it wouldn't have been anyone else, but whatever.

"Hey, kid," he called out as the startled teenager entered the dining room across from him.

"Dad," Wes exclaimed in confusion and dropping his bag on the floor, "what are you doing home already?"

"I had a dentist appointment and took the rest of the afternoon off," Anton answered plainly. Something seemed off with his son. "You alright? You seem... unsettled or something."

"I came out," Wes breathed, a burdened expression on his face, "to the whole school."

"Like... on the PA...?" Anton asked in surprise.

"I told Shana I couldn't be her boyfriend because I was gay, and there were a shit-ton of people standing nearby when I said it to her."

"Oh," Anton chuckled, biting his lip. "That's, uh... that's definitely a thing..."

"I'm not as embarrassed as I should be," Wes offered, walking up to the other side of the counter and leaning over it, resting on his elbows. "I'm not relieved, either."

"It must be nice, though," Anton offered, extending a hand and stroking his son's head affectionately, "to not be carrying that burden around anymore. You can be yourself with them. How did Patrick take it? Or did he already know?"

"He didn't know," Wes groaned, "and he didn't take it well."

"What?" Anton said, incredulous. "Why not? What did he say?"

"He was angry I hadn't told him," Wes answered soberly. "He thinks I had a duty to trust him with it since we're best friends."

"Oh..." Anton mumbled, wincing. That kind of made sense. He could see how someone close might be hurt by that, but... "But if you didn't want to tell anyone that's your business, right?"

"Yeah," Wes said quietly, rolling his head to the side so Anton could stroke behind his ears and along the side of his face. Anton continued like that, then withdrew his hand and lowered himself to the counter, staring eye-to-eye with his son.

"Hey," Anton said seriously, "I'm very proud of you. I'm sorry people suck, but you should know that I'm proud of you, and I love you."

Wes smiled spontaneously, and Anton was glad to see the sincerity in it.

"Thanks, Dad."

"Hey, I'm your biggest fan and always will be," Anton added, straightening his back, which didn't appreciate being bent over like that. He took his reading glasses off and immediately had an idea. "Hey, we should do something this weekend. What do you say to Firelli's for dinner and maybe a movie or something? My treat, of course."

"Um..." Wes thrummed uncertainly, standing and drumming his fingers on the countertop. "Maybe... I'm not sure if I'll have time..."

Anton's spirits sank just a bit.

"You spending the weekend with Dennis?" he asked carefully.

"I mean," Wes began quietly, "that was the plan. I don't get to see him on the weekdays..."

"Yeah, that's okay," Anton said, shuffling the torn-up envelopes and unfolded papers together. "Maybe some other time." He turned to deposit the documents into his briefcase on the opposite counter.

"Well, what if Dennis came over here this weekend?" Wes asked. Anton raised his eyebrows and turned to regard his unusually hopeful-looking son. "We could all hang out together, watch movies or go out... or whatever."

"Yeah," Anton said excitedly, happier that he would get to spend a rare weekend with Weston than that Dennis would be around, but pleased with that as well. "Hey, that's a great idea."

"Just one question," Wes said, adopting an anxious, pensive expression.

"Sure," Anton allowed.

"Can Dennis stay over?"

Anton blinked uncertainly. He hadn't considered it, but... he did have a rule that Wes and his friends could do dumb and dangerous stuff as long as they did it in his home, where he could feel that they were safer. He was fortunate that Wes didn't like alcohol that much, but the few times he and Patrick and a few of their friends had decided to drink illegally he had allowed them to do it here, and nothing bad had happened because of it.

"For the night, you mean," Anton clarified.

"Is that okay?" Wes asked awkwardly. "He, uh... well, we could... use the guest room."

"Uh, yeah, I mean... yes, that's fine. Here or there at his place, obviously I'd rather you were here than anywhere else just to be safe."

"Well, and I don't know if he will want to," Wes continued, shrugging. "I'll have to ask him and see what he says."

"Well, I think it's a great idea," Anton continued. He realized he was standing under the liquor cabinet and casually grabbed a shallow glass and a bottle of smooth, Canadian scotch. "Do you want to invite him over or should I? I have a meeting with him at ten tomorrow morning."

"Uh..." Wes stumbled, "I'll probably do it tonight, but you can bring it up tomorrow to reassure him. He gets kind of skittish about us sometimes."

"Skittish?" Anton repeated, reaching into the refrigerator and grabbing two ice cubes to deposit in his glass. "About what?"

"Well, I think it sometimes bothers him that I'm still in high school."

"Ohhh," Anton crooned, nodding and sipping his cold scotch. "Okay, I get that."

"Then there's the matter of us being officially boyfriends," Wes added, grinning.

"No shit?" Anton asked, eyebrows raised. "Wow, good job, son. Did he ask or did you?"

"I asked Dennis," Wes clarified.

"Aww, I'm so proud of you," Anton said, walking forward and hugging his son. "I'm so glad you're happy and that things are working out for you."

"Me, too, Dad," Wes whispered, returning the embrace.

They held each other long. Anton rested his chin on Weston's head and fondled his ears affectionately. He sighed gratefully, almost grieving for the period of time Wes must have suffered in quiet for holding a secret. All that time he hadn't known what was wrong, those two-- almost three years. Brandy had been no help, passing off their son's suffering to teenage mood-swings. He had been alone then, and desperate, grasping at straws for fear that Wes would hurt himself, or... something bad.

"I'm so glad you're happy, son," Anton choked. "I was so afraid for... uh..."

"Dad," Wes exclaimed, pulling back and looking into Anton's emotionally-bare face.

"You're my whole world, Wes," Anton explained, blinking back tears and clearing his throat, trying to loosen his constricted airway. "I would do anything to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine, Dad," Wes stated, a look of great concern on his face. "Really, there's nothing to worry about. I would never... kill myself or anything. I promise."

"I just... got worried, that's all," Anton said, regaining his composure. "I saw you hurting and didn't know what was wrong, and I didn't know what I could do to fix it."

Wes smiled sensitively and wrapped Anton in another hug.

"You do more than enough," Wes answered. "I'm fine."

"Yeah... okay." Anton cleared his throat again and separated from his son, dabbing at his eyes with the back of his empty hand. "Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it," Wes allowed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm probably gonna call Dennis and talk for a bit, but afterward maybe we can swim in the pool?"

"Yeah," Anton nodded, placing a hand on his hip and sipping his scotch, "I haven't been in the water in a while."

"Alright," Wes said, grabbing his bag from the floor and turning to leave the room, "just give me about five minutes and I'll be out there."

Anton watched him ascend the staircase, long tail swaying gracefully, strong legs bounding off each landing as he climbed. When he disappeared around the corner Anton took a breath, downed his drink, and set the empty glass on the counter. He walked through the dining and living rooms, down the hall and into his bedroom.

It was dark and unkempt. He glanced around at the boxes, the piles of clothing and papers. He hadn't made his bed in months. Even when he cleaned the sheets he just put on the fitted sheet and dumped everything else on top. He hadn't had a guest to impress in years, no girlfriends to bring home and spend the night. It only then hit him that with Wes otherwise occupied by his now boyfriend, Anton would be more alone than he had been in a long time.

The lights in the backyard pool came on, highlighting the window to the master bedroom, and he turned to find Wes standing by the back door. His son hadn't even bothered with pretenses and wore nothing, his magnificent, youthful body catching the shimmering, fractured light from the surface of the water. Wes glanced his way.

"Coming?"

"Yeah, son," Anton offered, "I'll just be a second. Go on."

"Is this okay?" Wes asked, gesturing to his nudity. "I know it's kind of light outside still..."

"No one can see in the backyard," Anton shrugged. "Should be fine."

Wes nodded once and opened the backdoor, disappearing beyond Anton's sight. The older tiger moved farther into the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt and removing his already-loose tie as he went. He watched through the slatted blinds as Wes turned his walk into a quick trot in two steps and dover over the edge of the pool into the water, submerging for just a few seconds before coming up on the other side. Swimming was easier in a saltwater pool, Anton thought. You could keep your eyes open for longer.

He watched Wes spin and turn, diving and making laps. He would pull himself out of the water and sit on the side, exposed flesh and fur... a divine and beautiful sight. Anton smiled in nostalgic fashion. How many years had they been swimming like this? He recalled teaching the boy to swim so long ago. His tiny arms, bony chest, soft belly and adolescent genitalia accentuating his innocence. He was precious then... now as well, but now Wes was a man. He was already a sight to behold. Strong arms, rounded shoulders, a flat and defined abdomen, a respectable manhood like his father... but with all the fine features of his beautiful mother.

Anton closed his eyes in thought, recalling how close he had come to offering something to Wes he would never have been able to take back. In those dark moments before Dennis had rescued Wes from his insecurity and his burden, Anton had almost offered to be that for his son, a love offering beyond any he could imagine. Not being attracted to me, he would have forced himself to be what Wes needed, but... he didn't have to think about that now. Those days were over. Everything was better.

"Daaaad," Wes called from outside, "quit posing in front of the mirror and come on. Swimming alone sucks ass."

Anton chuffed humorously and took his shirt off, quickly shuffling out of his pants and undergarments and stepping into the light. He pushed the backdoor open and let it close behind him as he stepped his footpads onto the rough, concrete porch. The warm, September air felt good on his nakedness, and he could already feel the water enveloping him in his mind. Wes saw him and gave a thumbs-up.

"Looking good, old man," Wes offered.

"Oh, I know," Anton stated jovially, and Wes laughed. Anton walked down the steps into the cool blue and then jumped the rest of the way in.

Wes hopped back in and swam over to him, and they made laps together, diving to the bottom and then pushing off for the surface. They would go under and hold their breath, then look challengingly at each other to see who would go up first for air. Wes had better lungs, being a current athlete, and always won, but Anton didn't mind. He was glad to spend the time with his boy. He hoped these days would never end.

* * *

Dennis drove up to the terminal curb, passing airport shuttles and illegally parked cars and throngs of expectant onlookers waiting to be picked up by taxis, friends or family. He thought he might have passed or missed her when he saw the outline of a young doe waiving in front of him and to his right. He grinned excitedly and pulled over as best he could, hopping out of the car as it came to a stop.

"Hey!" Diana yelled happily, jumping into his arms. He held her tight... almost too tightly, and kissed her cheek.

"I missed you so much," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "I can't believe you're here."

"I know!" his pretty twin sister cried. "I can't believe it either. I can't believe I finally graduated!"

"Come on," Dennis said, letting her down and grabbing her bag. "We'd better move or the airport police will get testy."

He slid her giant suitcase into the trunk and made sure she got into the passenger seat alright, then hopped into the driver's seat and took off. Before they had gone a few feet he stole a glance to his right and caught her staring, and they both laughed.

"I can't believe you're here," Dennis mused aloud, "I've missed you so much."

"Oh, my gosh," Diana exclaimed, looking like she might cry, "it has been way too long, Dennis. When you got stuck in Indianapolis over Christmas and I had to go back to school I just about died."

"I'm so sorry," Dennis apologized, "I should have come down to visit you."

"No, don't worry about it," she assured, "it's not cheap to cross the country."

"Hey, are you hungry?" he asked her excitedly. "I'm kind of hungry, and I know a place."

"Yeah, sure," she agreed.

They caught each other looking again and laughed. Dennis couldn't help but think how much it reminded him of being in high school again. They had been thick as thieves back then, and he was glad to see that time and distance hadn't done anything to take that away.

On the way to the restaurant in town, they talked about school and work. She asked about his house, having never seen it, and he asked about her trip to Mexico with their parents--her graduation gift for finishing Law School in California. At the restaurant they found their table and ordered their own pasta dishes.

"This looks kind of fancy," Diana said, smiling uncertainly.

"Firelli's is the best Italian food South of Indianapolis," Dennis answered, "and it's my treat."

"Thanks," Diana replied, "but don't go thinking you have to carry the bill the whole time I'm here."

"I didn't know the salary at law school was so good," Dennis joked.

"Actually," Diana began, "I got a job up here, and they paid me a moving package, so I'm doing okay for a while."

Dennis blinked, not sure he was comprehending his sister's words.

"Wait, so..." he said, "you're... moving to Indiana?"

"Better than that," she continued, "I'll be twenty-four miles from your house." Dennis felt a slow smile creep onto his features.

"Are you joking?" he asked, a surge of joy coursing through him.

"Nope," she giggled happily, "I took a job with a firm in town. I'll have to work with them for a while before I can sit for the Bar in Indiana, but then I'll be one of the on-staff attorneys."

"Diana, that's great!" Dennis cried. "I'm so happy for you, and it'll be so good to have you close." A thought occurred to him and he sobered slightly. "What do Mom and Dad think about it?"

"Ugh," she groaned, rolling her eyes, "naturally they didn't have anything nice to say about it. They wanted me to stay closer to home, but I wanted to be closer to you. Now, I didn't actively look for something near you, this job just happened to open up and I got really serious about it when I saw where it was."

"Either way," Dennis said, poking at his spaghetti in lemon and white wine sauce, "I'm glad."

"Me, too," she said sweetly, brushing the short, red-brown hair from her face and exposing the gentle freckling on her cheeks. Dennis was admiring her beauty when he realized she was holding something back.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Well," she began tenderly, "my stuff is being shipped here, but I still haven't found a place to stay..."

"Oh," Dennis cried softly, perking up, "you can stay with me."

"Really?"

"Yeah, of course, are you kidding? I have a guest room that no one stays in, and it has plenty of room. You can stay as long as you like."

"Oh, that's such a relief," she exhaled, folding her hands in her lap and smiling contentedly. "I looked at so many listings, but nothing was working out. Thank you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Dennis declared, shoveling another forkful into his mouth and slurping down the tangy, sauce-covered noodles.

"I was afraid you had picked up a roommate or something," she commented idly, grabbing another bead-stick.

Dennis hesitated when she said that, suddenly remembering Wes. While not a roommate, the dynamic of their relationship would undoubtedly change with Diana around. Then his heart fluttered nervously as he thought how Diana would react to finding out he had a boyfriend now... who still attended high school.

"Dennis?"

"What?" he asked, jarring from his thoughts.

"You don't have a roommate, do you?" she asked carefully, suspiciously.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"I was just trying to remember if I left any junk on the bed in there."

"Oh," she said, shaking her head, "that's not a problem."

They continued on well after dinner, even--and uncharacteristically--ordering dessert. They only left the restaurant when the maître d' informed them that it was time for them to leave because the restaurant was closed.

On the way home they were a little quieter, but Dennis offered Diana his hand and held hers all the way to the house. By the time he pulled into the garage it was already past midnight, and both of them were tired. He walked her in and gestured to the noticeable parts of the house, dragging her suitcase behind him. They made it up the staircase and into the guest room, which he was pleased to find was clean and neat.

"We passed the bathroom on the way in," he said around a yawn, "I'm not sure if you saw."

"I did," Diana answered, unbuttoning her shirt, "and I actually need to take a shower before bed. I didn't take on this morning and I have flight-grime."

Dennis blushed when he saw her bra and turned away respectfully.

"Alright," he said, "I need to take one as well, but I'll wait for you."

"Don't be silly," she mumbled from behind him, "we can just take one together. That shower stall is big enough for two."

Dennis' heart skipped a beat. He could hear her zipper come open and the telltale sound of linen hitting the floor.

"Uh... are you sure?"

Diana laughed.

"Of course. Don't tell me you're suddenly bashful about being naked with me, are you?"

Dennis saw flashes of memory come forward, of the times she had snuck into his room at night when they were younger, of the kissing and touching at school.

"I... no, I'm not," he finally managed.

She brushed past him, naked and beautiful, and he watched her saunter by while he covered his bulging crotch with both hands.

"You can come on," she said, glancing at him sideways and lifting her arm to put her hair in a pony-tail. He saw the heavy curve of her womanly breasts, larger now than he remembered, and slowly walked after her.

The water was running before he made it through the door, and he watched her stop in, adjusting the nobs and leaning away from the powerful stream. He watched the water run over her plum-pink nipples and curved, soft belly. It disappeared and splashed down her legs after crossing the top cleft of her femininity.

He shouldn't. He knew where this would lead, even though it had been so long. Had she been expecting this, planning it? Was she just tired and wanted to get the shower out of the way, or did she want him with her by design?

Against his better he judgement he disrobed, stepping out of his clothing and into the shower. Diana glanced at him as he walked in, but otherwise busied herself working shampoo into her hair. Dennis stepped back behind her and flipped the valve that would let the ceiling-mounted head share their water supply. The first part was cold, shocking him, but then it was warm. He watched her bathe for a moment, then turned around and grabbed the soap.

While cleaning he thought back to those times. He thought of the first time she had invited him to touch her, and touched him in kind. She had loved kissing him, and for his part he recalled enjoying it. He drew upon the memory of the first time she asked him to lay with her, to be with her... how natural it had felt, how wonderful. So different from his experiences with Adam. He had never been attracted to another woman, besides admitting when one was beautiful, but for Diana... he had been crazy about her.

He turned around to get under the water again and accidentally brushed Diana's lower back with his embarrassingly erect penis. She glanced at him over her shoulder, then slowly turned to face him. There they stood, and Dennis had the sinking feeling that only he was unsure of what was going on.

"You're bigger than I remember," she commented then, lowering her hand and tracing the underside of his hard, wet cock with her delicate fingers. Then she took his hand in hers and placed it on her breast, smiling up at him. "I think we both are."

Dennis felt his fatigue and desire roll into one. He caressed her erect nipple with his thumb and let her step closer. She angled upward the small amount she had to and brought her lips toward his mouth about the same time he remembered being with Wes in the bathtub in a manner similar to this. Wes.

Dennis' eyes shot open and he took a large step backward, starling Diana.

"I can't, Diana," he said, trying unsuccessfully to cover himself. "I'm sorry, I... I'm in a relationship with someone. It wouldn't be right."

"Oh," Diana offered, sounding both happy and sad at the same time somehow. She turned and shut off the water, then hesitantly turned toward him again. "I'm so sorry, Dennis. I didn't know."

"It's not your fault," he replied apologetically. "But we said we wouldn't be with anyone else."

"I'll go back to my room," she offered, stepping out quickly and grabbing a towel to wrap around herself.

"Wait!" Dennis called, and she stopped in the doorway, glancing partway over her shoulder. "Don't be mad... please."

"I'm not," she said, then faltered. "Maybe a little disappointed, but... I'm happy for you." She paused in the doorway a moment longer, then added. "We can talk more about it in the morning, okay?"

He didn't get a chance to agree. She hurried down the hall and quietly closed the guest-room door behind her. Dennis shook his head in shame and disappointment. Only officially a boyfriend for two weeks and already he had almost cheated. On top of that he had made things uncomfortable for his sister, whom he loved dearly and wanted to stay.

"Goddammit," he swore furiously, walking to the sink and turning on the hot water. He stood there for a few minutes, breathing in the steam and thinking about his situation. Then he thought he heard Diana talking and thought she might have called someone to vent. He turned off the water for a moment and realized she wasn't talking... he was hearing the sounds of her slipping into an orgasm. He didn't blame her, but turned on the water again to muffle the sound.

He stared down at his engorged, bobbing cock, noting the beady trail of seminal fluid leading down into the sink. Dennis pumped a single dose of moisturizing hand-soap onto his palm, lathered his length, and began thrusting into his hand aggressively. His thighs smacked against the granite fixture with each furious thrust, and he stroked out past his sensitive glans with each pass. He conjured memories of Wes, of their lovemaking. He saw the tiger boy pressing him up against a wall, slipping his thick member under Dennis' tail, and taking him savagely. In his mind's eye the Pantherine male bred him like a doe in rut, pumping seed into his confines, biting his neck as an owner does his submissive dominated mate.

"Uhh!" Dennis cried, ejaculating into the sink. His orgasm was short, but satisfying, and cleared his mind of the confusion brought on by his sister's advances.

After a moment, Dennis soaked a rag and wiped himself down, trying to clean off all the soap. Under less desperate circumstances he would have found a better lubricant, one that didn't threaten to cause chemical burns if you did a shitty job cleaning up. He shook his head at his foolishness. He would have to tell Wes about this. Hopefully he understood. This could end things abruptly... or it could strengthen their relationship. He had denied her, after all. But would it throw his strength of will into question? Would he still be trusted?

Denis breathed a heavy sigh and grabbed a towel from under the sink. No matter what happened later, he knew it was late. He would have to deal with this in the morning. When he exited the bathroom and turned off the light he stopped in thought. He didn't want Diana to think he was angry or upset, so he walked to her door.

"Diana," he whispered. For the longest time there was silence, but right before he turned away he heard her speak.

"Yes?"

Dennis licked his lips and thought about what to say. In the end, he decided the simplest and most truthful words were best.

"I love you," he said, louder than before.

There was another pause, shorter than the last, then:

"I love you, Dennis."

"Good night."

"Good night. I'll see you in the morning."

Dennis pursed his lips and turned on his heel. He walked down the hall and into the cloaking darkness of his bedroom, and for the first time since he had moved in he closed the door.