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My first submission on this site, part of a much longer story. Please let me know what you think, complete honesty welcomed but trolls and morons to be left at the door please.

Enjoy ;)

Prequel (or: 'Why I'm Never Home')

Charlie isn't like other guys. Ever since he helped me out with my girlfriend Lynn we've been really close. Lynn was a bitch (literally), but I was young and trying to prove a point. I got the hottest girl in school and people respected that. Only one problem... the kiss. At fifteen, I had never kissed anyone before and was terrified I'd mess up. Of course there was no way in hell I could ask my folks for advice, and I was NOT about to admit to one of the guys I hung around with at the park that I was some sort of kissing virgin, eugh! As far as they were concerned I was the school Casanova.

Anyway, this was the week before I was due to take her out again and I knew that if I didn't kiss her this time I'd lose her. Spaniels are highly-strung and yappy creatures and quick to cause trouble. I wasn't particularly bothered by the thought but if she dumped me and/or said anything to her mates I'd be mortified. I was beginning to feel really desperate by Wednesday and I couldn't concentrate in class, so I asked to go to the bathroom and slunk off to sit behind the maintenance sheds and think. It was a full five minutes before I noticed Charlie sitting curled up on an old broken chair someone had left there centuries ago, probably hoping it would repair itself. I had seen him around; he was fit for a Lab and played on a few of the school teams; but we'd never really chatted. He was quiet, not overly popular, and spent a lot of time alone.

He had been crying, I could see, but something in his eyes stopped me mocking him for it. I just looked at him for a moment and then went back to my thoughts. It was a comfortable silence we sat in, thinking about our own problems but not alone. Just as I was trying to conjure up a sexy image of Lynn in her underwear and wishing I enjoyed it as much as I should, he said - "A girl." It wasn't a question or an accusation, there was no tone to it. The way he said it made it sound like a basic fact. His voice was dry and a bit soft, like you sometimes get when you've run out of tears. I looked at him for a second and then agreed.

He turned his head to one side, curious, and I'm not sure if it was beccause he seemed trustworthy or because I was so desperate or both - I told him all about Lynn.

"The main problem is I have to kiss her and I have no idea how. Is that sad or what?" I concluded my minutres-long rant with a shrug.

He kept those grey eyes trained on me and made a little 'hmm' noise. "Have to?" I explained that I had a pretty girl who wanted me so I was grateful and needed to make it work, but he saw right through it and cut to the point. "But, you're not sure if you want to."

Anyway, you don't want to hear all that boring stuff about me insisting that I did want to (and him not buying it for a second) and how he told me he'd had a similar problem about a year ago. He had a little smirk on his face when he said that, but I was too wrapped up in myself to notice. Bottom line? I was, and still am, a selfish bastard. Lynn and I went out for seven months after that.

Funny how that feels like forever when you're young. Charlie was there through all of it, and he was there last week as usual...

Lynn had just brought her feral dog to my house, yappy bloody little chihuahua that I hate. I had asked her not to but she just ignored me. My folks weren't home and, as usual, she demanded sex. Now, I like sex as much as the next person, don't get me wrong. But I also think maybe you're supposed to feel something more than just 'crap this feels good'. I mean, aren't you supposed to love the person even more? Or some shit like that. Anyway, I digress.

So we did what she wanted with the bloody dog yapping and yapping the whole time till I finally stood up in the middle of it and threw a shoe at the mutt and went through to the lounge to watch T.V. Mood gone just a little, you know? So she starts yelling and shouting at me, swearing like a footballer about how I can't just leave her in 'this state'. That was bad enough, but then comes the WHINING.

I mean heck. Why do girls whine so much? Don't they know it makes tham ugly? She starts stroking my shoulders and going 'Baby, come on... What's wrong Baby? Make love to me!'

'Make love to me'? The hell? And since when was I 'Baby'?

I mean, here's some chick I've just realised I barely know and she's whining about love while her dog's yapping and squeeling almost as bad as her and I'm getting a headache and I'm still hard and can't concentrate on a damn thing and the house is starting to stink of her and my blood is swelling the veins in my clenched fists until they feel like they're going to explode and she's talking about LOVE!

So I threw the bitch out.

It was that or hit her, and I like to take the high road. As Voltaire says: Illusion is the first of all pleasures. I didn't feel anything for her, I never had, and as I sat there on the couch with everything but my heart aching, I realised that what I needed now was a friend.

It was probably a mistake. If I had waited till I was calm, sorted myself out before I left, changed my shirt, anything, it may never have happened. The problem is that, if given a second chance, I wouldn't change anything.

Charlie was playing guitar with his shirt off. When I walked in he just looked up at me, blonde hair over one eye, played softer and listened to me rant. I paced up and down bitching about Lynn, then women in general for a very long time.

"What is the problem, exactly?" His mouth was smiling but he tried his best to be serious. "I mean, what is it that bugs you so much about this? You KNOW that's what girls are like."

I sat down next to him on the bed, then flumped back with my arms behind my head. "Common sense is not so common."

"Is that another Voltaire quote?"

I nodded. "He has a quote for everything. Still - why? Why do they have to be so bloody irritating! She pissed me off so badly I couldn't even carry on."

He burst out laughing. I love it when he does that, he's got such an honest laugh you can't get offended cause he's not laughing at you. He just finds you funny. Then I did something I never do: I spoke without thinking.

"You know what I wish? I wish you had a sister." He stopped playing and looked at me, that quiet curiosity hiding a racing mind. "I do." I laughed, a short, sharp 'hah'. "I wish you had a sister and that she was just like you." If I'd looked closer I would have seen an unspoken pain, maybe a hint of anger.

He looked down at his hands and said shortly "But I do not."

"No," I sighed.

"Liam?" His hands were on the guitar, his eyes fixed to the chords. "Remember when we met?"

Boy did I.

.........

"Will you help me?"

He had looked at me in surprise. "Me?"

"Yeah. I mean, can you? Only I don't have anyone else and I'm sick of struggling to learn stuff on my own."

He looked around, getting into the spirit of things now, and picked up a drama prop of a head. It had a weird half-painted, surprised look and was a bit creepy but I was high on nerves and missing class and being here with this stranger who seemed so different so I bowed jokily and approached the plaster mask.

"Now, the main thing is to stay natural. I mean, you like her and you want to kiss her so your body will do half the work. Just go with it."

Do I want to kiss her? I couldn't be sure. But I must do, I mean, why else would I? I've always been a bit lazy about stuff like that so I shook it off and kissed the dummy. About fifteen minutes later, after pointing out what I was doing wrong and cracking me up with some of the things he said while I was trying to make out wirth a dusty plaster dummy, Charlie said he had to go.

"Do you have to?" Part of me was a bit disappointed.

He nodded, eyes half closed with some private amusement. "I have to get to waterpolo. Good luck with whatsername and I'll see you round." With that, he punched me on the shoulder and was gone.

I sat by myself for ages afterwards thinking about it and it was only when I really did think that I realised he'd touched my face a hell of a lot. And it was only after he'd let me feel his lips with my fingers and said to imagine the dummy's felt like that, like real lips, that I'd really gotten into it. I looked for him the next day and asked if he wanted to come round for the game and he'd said yes. But I'd never touched him after that, not even a handshake.

It was too weird to think, too much effort to try to understand myself.

.........

I swallowed. "I do."

"Remember how I had to yank that dummy away cos you were trying to eat it?" He was chuckling but his eyes were still not laughing. He was watching me carefully, muscles tensed and muzzle clamped around a plastic smile.

I nodded. "I remember." The ridge on my back bristled.

He turned to face me, reached behind me to put the guitar down. My side twitched as his arm brushed it. "Were you thinking about Lynn?" His fine-boned face was a study in complete neutrality.

"No, I wasn't thinking about anyone." I thought about it. "Well, I just imagined a sexy girl... Or I think I did." I ran my hand through my hair. "I don't know!" I hadn't thought about it, didn't see the point.

My body, bloody traitor, chose that moment. I groaned out loud. I really should have sorted myself out before leaving the house. I went to stand up and head for the bathroom, but Charlie had somehow gotten into a position where his knee would brush my leg if I did.

"I just," I was breathing weird now, "just going to the bathroom. Won't be lon..." I didn't manage to finish the sentence. His paw on my shoulder, stroking my neck, behind my ear, over my nape. Damn it felt so amazing. I realised my own, larger, paw was millimetres away from his on the bed, our claws basically touching. I don't know who made the stretch, but next thing I knew his was folded inside mine and he was looking at me. He always had been, I realised. His big, grey eyes on mine, muzzle with just a hint of a smile in the corners. His hair snuck rebelliously out from behind his ear and curled over one eye.

That was hwen I realised just how much I wanted to see them both. I pushed the hair back, my paw running behind his head, snagging in his hair and pulling him forcefully towards me. I was hungry, starving. For seven months I had had sex on tap but I felt in this moment like I never had. All I wanted was more, more of him. His free paw stroked my thighs, teasing me till I thought I would explode. My muzzle felt bruised from where his teeth ground into the gums. I tried my best to climb inside him, my tongue in his throat. He tasted of orange juice and musk. He swallowed and sucked at it greedily, and him throating my tongue drove me wilder than I had ever been. I didn't just WANT him, for the first time ever I wanted HIM. All of him. Anything and everything he would give, and what he wouldn't give I would take. His paw was still curled in mine, so much smaller, and I used this to push him backwards, grabbing his forearm and pinning him to the bed under me. He ground up against me whimpering and coughing and grinning around my greedy tongue, I could feel his hardness on mine like steel and it hurt. And I loved every moment. I opened my eyes and watched him keening like the desperate dog he was and struggling to free himself. His throat beat with his heart and I pulled away from his maw to lick it, sniffing him up into my head and seeing little explosons behind my eyes. He jammed his leg between mine and started rubbing it back and forth, breathing hard and ragged. He licked his lips and panted, arm muscles flexing under mine as he used the paw holding him down to push into me.

I traced his ribs, his chest, his stomach with my claw, licking it and blowing on him. he shivered so hard I thought he would never stop. I let go of him briefly to undo the buckle on his trousers, which was starting to hurt and irritate me. I looked at him to see if he'd protest but he just made an impatient little groan, as if to say 'Hurry the hell up'. His forehead was wet with sweat, blonde hair clinging to it and hiding his eyes for a moment. I leaned over him, sitting flush on him to get a cushion and throw it at him, over his eyes. Then I got up onto my knees and pulled his trousers down. I meant to only pull them down a little way but I was so fascinated with what I was discovering that I just kept going until they fell to the floor.

He had strands of blonde fuzz sticking out from the hemm of his navy boxers, stomach heaving above them with his efforts to breathe under the stuffy cushion. I knelt next to him and pulled the cushion away, leaning down to cover his muzzle with mine. His tongue was cold, but I soon warmed it up again.

'Li?' It was a whisper against my teeth.

'Mmm?' My paw crept to his boxers, stroking and rubbing.

'Tell me something. You said he has a quote for everything so tell me something Voltaire would say.' His panting was getting harder now, breath tickling my whiskers and throat. I inhaled him desperately. 'He would say... *ragged breath*... in this situation: 'I should like to lie at your feet and die in your arms.' Now shutup.' This last was almost a feral growl.

He smiled cheekily and then yelped in surprise as my paw closed over him under the thin blue cotton. I began working it up and down, and once I got used to it being the opposite way round it was as easy as anything. I could feel myself twitching in response, dying to feel soft flesh wrapped around me and, as I breathed into his ear, licking and nibbling and kissing his neck, I felt myself finish in a way that was almost painful. It ached so badly I was relieved when he opened his eyes and looked at me.

He saw me wince in pain and pleasure and pulled away, climbing out from under me. Then he sat me on the edge of the bed and knelt at my feet, undoing the buttons on my cargo pants and pulling them down, stroking every bit of fur his hands passed. I began pushing towards him as he wrapped his maw around me, soothing the ache and making me almost immediately hard again. This had never happened with Lynn and, wrapping my paws round the back of his head, looking into his sparkling eyes, I knew why. I gripped his hair as he licked all over, tickling and teasing. His paws were tight around my calves, gripping them like iron to him, head literally buried inbetween my legs. I pushed harder towards him until he choked, gasping for breath but not wanting to let me go. I rubbed his back, massaging his shoulders and digging in my claws as he dug his teeth in just a little. I realised that, after finishing so soon before, it was going to take forever the second time and he was looking at me with a devil in his eyes. I put my paws under his arms and pulled him up so he was standing in front of me. Wrapping my arms around his back, I brought him closer and hugged him tight, his soft stomach crushed to my face, muscles hard against my cheek. I could feel him going hard against my chest, legs tensing. I pulled him over to the bed and lay him down facing me. His eyes never left my face.

I could see he wanted me as much as I wanted him. He gripped my upper arms as I knelt over him, stroking and feeling his fur. It was very soft (not like own coarse bristle) and he was slick from my mouth. My paw gradually travelled further down, until I felt the opening I had subconciously been searching for. I leant down and licked my paw, sliding one digit up and down, then pressing it a short way in. He flinched and his eyes went back in his head as he pushed onto it, licking his lips and breathing really, really ahrd. He sounded as if he was going to have a heart-attack. I kissed him hard as I moved it around a bit, then pushed it in up to the knuckle at the same time as I pushed my tongue deep into his throat. The response was instantanious. He went rock hard and gasped a bit too loud. He was clean and wet and smooth inside, I pushed in another digit and felt him tense at the stretch. He was really tight and I started to get a bit nervous about whether I would fit. What if I hurt him? It didn't take me long to get the answer. He pushed onto my paw, shoving both digits all the way in, and bit his lip hard enough to make it bleed. He winced and I started to worry.

"Are you ok?" I licked his nose, concerned.

He took a deep breath. "Your claws... bit long. Oh!"

"I'm sorry. I'll stop..."

He grinned. "Wasn't *huff* complaining."

His face at that moment was the sexiest I'd ever seen, and I wanted to see more. I pulled out my clawed digits and licked the blood off his lips, slipping my tongue inside for a few seconds at a time. I was still solid as a steel crowbar and quite wet from pre, so I pushed the tip a short way in, watching him to guage the response. His face went very still, that look of open curiosity again. I decided that the word to describe it, the word I had never been able to think of, was 'tantalising'. I pushed in a bit more and he lay very still, legs over my shoulders, letting me do all the work. I had my face inches from his, waching him closely. I pushed some more and could see it hurt. I paused for a while, leaning down to rub noses like an eskimo. He smiled at me and his paws tightened their grip on my arms as he pushed towards me, as if to say 'get on with it'.

His eyes screwed up tightly as I rammed myself in to the hilt, feeling his strong muscles clench so tightly around me I was trapped. I nearly came then and there with the feeling but I still had a lot in me so I pulled him closer against me, hands cupped over his cheeks. Then I slowly pulled out, trying to be gentle, wondering if it'd snap if I tried going too fast. He relaxed and started to move back and forth, side to side. It was the strangest and most loaded feeling I have ever had in my life. I felt like I had taken something illegal, my entire body was pure sensation and his lithe, supple form underneath me sent prickles up my spine.

We pushed and pulled and wrestled and gripped each other for a while, him reaching down to play with himself while I worked over his back and backside with my paws, massaging and rubbing and scratching. I leant down to take a lick and he reached round to stroke along the dip between my cheeks. his claws connected with something and I felt myself begin to jerk and pump a year's supply of scalding-hot froth into him. He twisted and ground against me, whimpering a little as the pressure built. I tried to keep my mouth at work but it was jsut too much. I curved backwards, holding myself as far in as I could go, and dug my claws so hard into his legs he had bruises for almost a motnh afterwards. He started to spray everywhere but he was so pinned and filled he didn't notice. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, I leaned forward to rest my elbows either side of him and lean my forehead on his chest. I was still quite hard inside him, still throbbing. It was so hot I felt like I was on fire between my legs but it was good. No, it was fantastic. He looked at me from over a wide open mouth and his eyes were completely glazed over. I saw that his chest, face and hair (and now my hair) were covered in white. I had always been curious about how it tasted, but never dared to try. It had seemed too gay.

Well.

That wasn't an issue now, was it.

I licked his chest clean, circling his nipples at first until he clenched on me and made me jump, then took them in my mouth and nibbled. He giggled softly at the feeling, though his breathing was so ragged it was more of a gurgle. I smiled down at him. His gaze was becoming more focused, and he looked at me with bright eyes, opening his muzzle and sticking out his tongue. A strange feeling surged through me. Not only did I find this overgrown pup sexy and easy to get on with, I also had the strangest urge to hug him and kiss him till he couldn't breathe, to make him laugh till he cried.

I scraped up some off the tastiness and let him lick it off my paws. He slurped as eagerly at them as he had earlier at something else, and the thought made me stir and start to get hard again. He squirmed at the feelinng, I was still lodged quite firmly inside him.

'Hey, you can't have it all. That's mine.' I whispered.

He growled softly and raised an eyebrow, as if to say 'come and get it then'.

I grabbed his face with one paw and his back with the other and licked his mouth and throat clean as he fought hungrily back. I was starting to push into him again, ready to go all night, when we heard a car door slam. I jumped guiltily to my knees on top of him, paw over his muzzle to shush his moans. In doing so, however, I pushed myself even further in than before and he gasped and growelled loud enough to wake the dead. I felt a wave wash over me and all I wanted to do was go again but there was a key in the lock now and I could hear the feral cat crying for food downstairs.

I pulled out reluctantly and stood up, dragging on my clothes as I did so. I looked out the window and saw it was getting dark already, which meant it was long past eight. I started feeling guilty, wondering what excuse I could make for still being here at this time, when I realised. He was not Lynn. No one would ask; they would never suspect. It was perfect. I could stay as long as I liked, heck I could even stay over! At that thought my trousers became uncomfortably restrictive for a moment.

While I had been daydreaming and fiddling with my buckle, Charlie had gotten dressed and even dried his hair with the bedsheet. He reached out and stroked my arm, handing me my top. I dried my hair, ears and neck, then slipped it on just in time for his mom to come clomping up the stairs.

"Charles! Have you seen the time?" She opened the door and seemed shocked to see me sitting on the floor drinking orange juice while Charlie was writing on a piece of paper, guitar next to him on the bed.

"Oh, Liam. I'm sorry, I thought I heard...I thought Charlie had a girl over." Her innocent face smiled through its puzzlement and she thought no more of it. "Well, seeing as you're here, would you like some pizza Liam?"

I nodded yes please and smiled my most pleasant smile at her. Charlie still hadn't looked up from his sheet of paper and I dreaded what he would do when he did. Call me queer? Say it was a msitake, or worse that I'd forced him? (As you can tell, I'm not a very trusting person.) I geared myself up to insult him back should he turn on me.

He put the piece of paper down very slowly and stood up, walking over to stand looking down at me. I flinched a bit, I'll admit. He's not huge btu he's strong and confident. In the back of my mind was a desperate hunger for him, kissing, hugging, stroking him. At the forefront was the the thought that now we had to face what we'd done.

He sat down next to me and snuggled against my side, hands in his lap. I put my arm around him and my face in his neck. 'How you feeling?' I whispered.

He closed his eyes and breathed out through his nose. 'I'm in agony.' he mouthed back, a huge grin plastered across his face. We stared at each other for a moment and then burst out laughing.

His mom came into the room, smiling as if she didn't get the joke but she was glad we were laughing. "It's so nice to see you happy Charlie. You know I do believe you boys are a good influence on each other." She put the tray of food down on the bed, making me blush with the thought of what had gone on there not long ago. Good influence? Well Mrs Harkiss, that depends on how you look at it.. She nattered on a bit. "A good friend is for life, I say. You two are so lucky to have each other as friends."

When she had left he kissed me in a way that added: And so much more.