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Vince chewed on the eraser of his pencil and growled quietly to himself - math wasn't his forte, and especially not geometry. He preferred algebra - not that he particularly enjoyed that, but still. At least it wasn't history class.

A few desks away sat Antony, bent over his test, pencil swinging around near his shoulder. He was a cat - one of the more tolerable ones of his sort, too: not a lion, nor panther or tiger, just a simple housecat. Today he wore grey jeans that outlined the form of his legs; a black shirt matching the tone of his fur, decorated in the front with the logo of one of his favorite bands in bright purple and white; and a single silver earring hung down from his right ear, bright against his dark fur. Antony tended to keep to himself, as Vince had learned in his three years of knowing the cat - he was shy and quiet, but had a mind always active, always taking in new things. He listened to all faces of metal - heavy metal, symphonic metal, black metal, death metal, gothic metal, even pagan black metal; Metallica and Iron Maiden of course, Apocalyptica, Rhapsody of Fire and Symphony X, Delain, Nightwish, Tyr and Amon Amarth, Epica, Kamelot, Unleashed, HIM, Dream Evil, Slipknot and Disturbed - as well as classical; he loved Bach's cello suites, Beethoven's symphonies, Vivaldi's violin concertos, des Prez's mass works, adored Newbold and Wyschnegradsky, and hated Mozart.

Antony had been the focus of Vince's attention for quite some time now - however, it was not in his nature to confess such a thing, like some ashamed child. Everyone knew Vince was gay - not pan, not bi, not some bullshit excuse for fucking everything that breathed, but gay. Nobody believed him at first, due to how he acted: no lisp, rich deep baritone voice; wore jeans and t-shirts, along with the same Vans shoes he had had since freshman year; he hung out with a lot of the football players, having earned their Neanderthal respect after beating one down after mocking him for his sexuality; he played cello in the school orchestra - now, if it was violin, it would be a different story; he smoked cigarettes and weed, and drank when he had the chance, opportunity, and reason. He was not some less-than-stupid fool like so many he knew that did this, those few who should have graduated two years ago and yet still counted as freshmen - by far, no: he rested at the top of his class with little competition, another reason few taunted or made fun of him. Besides, he was a wolf, with dusty grey-brown fur and light muscles that ridged their way up his stomach and arms. Nobody fucked with Vince.

He had forgotten his trigonometric ratios, and now sat with a diagram of a right triangle inside another right triangle with all except for two of the lengths left blank. Perhaps if he made it look like he tried, he would get some extra points. Those few desks away, Antony paused in his work and scanned his thoughts. He was... well, Vince wasn't fully sure. The cat hadn't been in a relationship while he had known him, and even if he did, he probably wouldn't say anything about it and Vince would only learn after it had ended. He spoke little about that sort of thing, even with a friend as close as the wolf; the most he had ever revealed was that he did, in fact, like someone, but didn't say who. When Vince asked "Do I know her?" Antony just hesitated, looked away, and shook his head. Now that was a clue, if any.

A series of three glances up at the clock high on the wall over the door revealed that only about seven minutes remained to class - the last class of a Friday, and one before a three-day weekend, as well. Vince knew from experience that these last seven minutes would feel like the longest of his life, and also that, despite this, he would not get anything done more on his test. So, he sighed, scribbled in some bullshit string of numbers his calculator fed to him, sighed again, stood, and handed his paper in. He brushed Antony's arm with his tail on his way back to his desk; the cat flicked his ears, looked up, held Vince's gaze for a while, and then went back to his test.

Vince rested his head on his arm and slipped an earbud into his ear, thumbing through his iPod underneath his desk. Antony had the brightest of blue-green eyes, something Vince had long admired; he often wondered if he would be able to still see those eyes in solid darkness. He put on a punk song he always defaulted to when he wasn't sure what he wanted to listen to and closed his eyes. Five minutes.

Sometimes, he thought he caught Antony looking at him, as he was guilty of doing with the cat; whenever he turned his head on one of these occasions, the cat's tail would flick, his whiskers would twitch, and he'd quickly look away. Another clue. Vince was fairly certain Antony knew how he felt about him, and quite frankly, he didn't care; judging by his reactions, being admired by the wolf in the showers and locker room was something to blush shyly and mew at. Cute.

Vince readjusted how he was sitting, thinking about those times. He recalled observing how the water coursed through the cat's fur, down his arms, his chest, his back, just beside his tail, his thighs... he thought about how he bent over to towel off his legs and feet, half-raising that long tail as if to taunt the wolf. Oh, how often had Vince bucked into his own paw and emptied another load out over his belly thinking about what it would be like to sink in up under that tail... fuck. He shoved his iPod back into his pocket in hopes of concealing his erection.

End of the song - two minutes left to class. He lifted his head from his arm at just the right time to see Antony slip back into his seat. He wondered, then, if the cat was open this weekend - Vince had his number, and knew for a fact that his mother would still have to work this coming Monday, if this weekend didn't work out. He was determined to spend some time on his own with Antony, even if it meant just for five minutes at the park or something - this would be the weekend, he told himself. One minute. He had never been shy with this sort of thing: come Tuesday, the cat would be certain of Vince's feelings for him.

Vince fished his phone from his pocket and sent a quick text in advance - why not ask now? He could tell when Antony noticed he got a new message, as the cat's ears perked and his whiskers twitched, and he shortly reached into his pocket.

Just as he had turned his phone to type his response, the bell rang, and Vince threw his bag over his shoulder and headed for the door. He couldn't be late to his bus.

~ ~ ~

Vince had developed a habit of stripping off his shirt whenever he got home, regardless of whether or not he or his mother had someone coming over. Right now, he lounged sideways on the couch, half-watching an episode of Star Trek he was fairly certain he had seen before. In his paw, his phone buzzed; he unlocked it with a swipe of his thumb and read the message - it was from Antony: "On my way." Cool.

The sky had started to darken already, despite it only being seven. His mother had gotten home a few hours ago, and then promptly left again, probably to drink and play cards with whatever friends she claimed to have, like she did every Friday. She would be out until after midnight, like usual, and then head straight to bed; if Antony was still here by then, she probably wouldn't notice, and if she did, she wouldn't even care. Vince had done lots of things without her knowledge; this was something he prided himself on among his friends of a simpler, baser nature. God, he hated that kind of person.

He half-considered taking off his pants and underwear as well, so Antony would walk in to find a fully nude wolf. He had done that to one of his friends before, as a joke; he wasn't expecting to have that friend pin him to the wall and suck him off, though. Not that he was complaining. That was a fun day. He slipped a paw into the front of his pants to make things more comfortable, biting his lip so as to resist the urges these memories provoked.

Shortly after, the doorbell rang; he stood, headed that way, unlocked the door, and pulled it open. Antony stood there, muzzle lit up by his phone - when he noticed Vince was shirtless, his ears straightened up and he blushed hotly. "Oh... uh, hey, uh, Vince."

"Hey." The wolf stepped to the side. "Come in, come in. You got here rather quickly."

"Yeah, uh..." Antony looked at Vince's abs when he stepped in, and swallowed. He clutched the composition book into which he doodled drawings and poems close to his chest. "Turns out I live kinda close. Didn't realize that until about two minutes after leaving, and by then, I had already arrived."

Vince had an ex who lived two streets away, a fellow wolf, except this one had graduated the previous year. They still fucked sometimes. He closed the door behind Antony and went back to the couch in the living room, where the cat followed; he dropped his comp book on the coffee table. "Oh, that's always nice. Kinda cool."

Antony sniffed upon seeing what was playing. "I don't like Star Trek that much."

Vince looked up from where he lay on the couch. Antony's tail stirred from side to side with a sort of lazy energy; he had one of his ears directed toward the television and the other towards Vince; his aquamarine eyes reflected whatever flashed on the screen. He was absolutely beautiful - it was all the wolf could do not to pin him to the wall and kiss him right here and now. "I could... change the channel, if you'd like."

"No, no." He sat down next to Vince, and rather close, too. The wolf straightened up and suddenly became very conscious of his shirtlessness. "It's okay, if you like it, I'm okay with it."

"...Oh. Really?" Vince shifted, considered putting his arm around the cat's shoulder, decided against it, considered it again, once more decided against it. Antony sat close enough so that the wolf could feel the heat of his leg against his own.

"Yeah. I mean, I came over to hang out with you, not particularly to order you to... change the..." Antony blushed, fell quiet, and closed his mouth as he realized what it sounded like he was saying. "- N-not like this is a date, or anything. I'm just saying."

Vince shifted again. With Antony, he felt... different than with all the other guys. With Antony, he actually... worried - was that the word? - about what the cat thought of him. He sucked in a breath, held it for a moment, sighed it out, then breathed in another one. He put his arm around Antony, who stiffened. "Do... do you want it to be?"

The cat's blush was visible even under his black fur. He avoided Vince's eyes, and wiggled slightly. "Oh... Vince, I..."

"Antony..."

The wolf felt one warm paw close around his upper arm and another press into his thigh through his pants, retractable claws piercing through his jeans even though they weren't out. He licked his lips, moved forward, pushed Antony down to the couch, and pinned him there.

The cat's blush brightened, and he held his paws helpless in front of his chest. "H... hi...?"

Vince licked his lips again - the way he held Antony down, he could feel the heat of his sack against his knee. "Hello there, kitty." He leaned in and pressed his lips to Antony's; the cat's paws pressed against his chest as if to push him away, but this action seemed... forced, almost, as if he didn't want to want it.

"Vince..." Antony kept his eyes closed after the kiss; Vince's paws came up his sides, lifting and removing his shirt. He wiggled around a bit, and the wolf ended up tearing the shirt in two places before he got it off. "No, no, Vince, I..."

"Mm?" Vince straightened up, reached down, undid the fly of his pants with one paw. He pushed those pants an inch or so down his legs, growled, stood, kicked them off, and then sat back down on the cat's legs with his erection lifting the loose fabric of his boxers. Idly, he worked at Antony's pants as well, pressing his paws into the sweet warmth that waited there.

"I... Vince, I'm not..." Antony choked back a moan when Vince opened his pants to find out he didn't wear underwear today, and writhed in something like half-resistance. Above him, Vince slipped his boxers off his legs as well, and sat down with his thick red cock bobbing in front of his dusty tan belly. Antony couldn't take his eyes away.

"Hm? Not what?" Vince shifted his position down and nipped at Antony's neck while slipping the cat's pants off. He brought his paw up, brushed his sensitive fingerpads up the underside of a cock as hard and eager as his own. "Seems to me you're a number of things right now."

Antony lay there, eyes closed, mouth hanging open, head half-turned; his chest rose and fell in elevated breaths, and Vince couldn't tell about his heartbeat. The wolf moved up, sat on his chest, directed his cock forward with one paw and Antony's head with the other, and growled one simple word: "Suck."

"No - no, Vince, please, I..." Antony got a whiff of the wolf's hot, beating musk, and fell instantly quiet. His muzzle came within inches of Vince's cock, close enough so that every breath could be felt in tantalizing power.

"I said - suck."

He seemed unsure at first, as if he had never done such a thing as this - which, he might not have. Vince didn't watch him: when that warm, moist tongue pressed against the base of the underside of his shaft, he sucked in a breath and tilted hi head back. Antony drew his tongue up, up, up, slowly, cautiously, and flicked it over the wolf's tip, where a bead of tangy pre waited; there, he licked his lips, moved, and came in from another angle, and then another, and another, and then finally closed his lips around the first inch or so of this pulsing wolfcock that throbbed underneath his nose.

Vince shuddered and moved his hips forward; Antony reciprocated by descending further along his shaft, tongue never staying still nor swirling around for a prolonged period of time, undecided and awkward. At one point, the cat gagged and mewed softly against the cock in his throat; this was most likely not helped by the hungry paw that pulled his head further, further down. He remained down for a while, then slowly came back up, lapped up whatever more pre had accumulated at the tip, and descended once more, more sure of himself this time; he tilted his head as he did so, making his sharp teeth grate softly over the sensitive flesh of Vince's shaft; the wolf shuddered again and gave voice to a groan.

"Yes, yes," he moaned, as Antony dove to deepthroat him once more. This time, he only gagged slightly, and continued regardless. "Slicken me up with your saliva. That - that's enough. Get up."

Antony opened his eyes, bewildered at the sudden lack of cock in his between his lips and weight on his chest. Vince had moved to the other end of the couch and now sat there, dragging his paw up and down, up and down along his length in slow, deliberate strokes.

"I told you to get up."

He did as told, holding his pants halfway up his thighs. He stood there, blushing hotly, his own hard shaft hanging out above the open fly of his grey pants. He seemed ashamed of this, and turned his back.

"Now, strip for me, kitten."

Antony's tail flicked to the side - once more, Vince imagined pressing his tip up under that tail, and quickened his stroking. "But Vince, I -"

"Strip."

Antony hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his pants, took another look at Vince, and began to slide them slowly down his legs. It was like in the locker room so many times before, when Vince had watched with a towel and his clothing concealing the boner this sexy kitty always gave him. Those pants descended those slim black-furred legs, down, down, down, until nothing remained to reveal. Antony stood there, blushing, paws held shyly in front of his chest, tail flicking around, and very, very hard.

"Mmh." Vince writhed and humped into his paw a few times, trying to hold himself back but failing. He knew what he wanted, and he knew that he was going to get that want today. "C'mere," he growled, and patted next to him; by now, Antony knew better than to object. "On your paws and knees, tail raised."

He bent over the arm of the couch and lifted his tail; he looked back with worried eyes and half-lowered ears. "What... what are you going to do to me?"

Vince rose to his knees and moved forward, placing his paws on the cat's hips. He pressed one of his thumbs against his tailhole and pulled to one side, spreading the cat - such a tasty sigh, seeing this pink pucker waiting in a sea of fine black fur. He licked his lips and set the tip of his cock where he spread. "I'm gonna fuck you."

Antony dug his claws into the arm of the couch and swallowed; behind him, Vince pushed his hips forward and sunk slowly, slowly into him. A strained "oh, fuck..." reached his ears, and he breathed out a quick, sharp moan before sucking in another brother. I don't want this, he told himself over and over again; however, his cock and the moans he had much trouble holding back said differently. Was going down on Vince really that bad? He shivered and gasped as the wolf continued to slide into him and stretch him further. In fact, near the end of that, he had even started to... enjoy it, perhaps. This boner of his that now drooled pre over the couch cushions sure as hell wanted more; he reached down and closed a paw around his shaft, stroking slowly against the deep pain of Vince sinking into him."

"Oh..." moaned the cat. Pain? That wasn't right. This was one of the richest pleasures he had ever felt - it just took a bit of... getting used to. Now, Vince had begun to slide out of him, but he knew not for long - okay, he had watched videos of this online. The memories of those caused him to bite down on his lip and press back against the wolf. "Vince..."

Vince grunted and began to push back in. So tight, so warm, so delicious - everything he had imagined Antony to be and so, so much more. "Antony."

The cat turned his head and looked back; Vince had his eyes closed, ears back, and lips pulled in a silent growl. His muscled belly and chest moved with his already-heavy breaths. "Fuck me, Vince - fuck me hard."

"As you say. I'll make you moan, sexy beast - I'll make you whine and empty your load all over that arm of the couch. I'll make you come back for more in the middle of the night."

Antony bucked against the couch with a rather rough push from Vince - oh, God, he wanted to say, but kept himself silent save for another moan through clenched teeth. He lowered his forehead to the arm of the couch and closed his eyes, focusing only on the cock that slowly slid in and out of him, gradually increasing in speed, and the feeling of his paw stroking his own shaft.

Vince moved his hips forward and back, forward and back, and panted gently - all those scenarios in his head seemed so much more attainable now. In his bed; on the other couch; in the school bathroom; in a movie theater; oh God. He felt his own sack slap up against Antony's with each push in now, and swallowed. He kept his paws on the cat's hips and used his superior strength to pull him back whenever he pushed in and vice-versa, continually growing faster and panting louder.

Antony was not quiet. He breathed out another high-pitched "nnh-" each time Vince slammed again into him; he panted heavily and unevenly, arm beginning to get tired from moving with such speed and force along his length; and he felt as though his heart was digging a hole through his sternum. Just - a little - bit - more -

"A-ah-" Antony bucked again and shot out a few spurts of cum onto the couch; behind him, Vince took a few more pushes, and then hilted inside the cat and emptied his own load deep inside him.

Antony caught his breath before trying to speak. "I... my... holy shit."

"Yeah?" Vince leaned over him and licked his ear. "Not, what aren't you?"

"I'm not unsatisfied. That's for damn sure." Antony giggled and brought his somewhat-soaked paw to his mouth. "When's your mother getting home?"