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Hayyas! It's-a-meee, the magnificent yena! Or am I... an impostor?! *gasp* I am actually a taco! Scandal! Drama! Horror! Suspense! Read on for more startling revelations in Free Association, Episode 35!

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_ Thursday. _

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" - So, surely, such a dissonant proclamation deserves penitence, I don't see how - "

Bradley sighed, massaging his forehead. "The question has nothing to do with whether Varanna did or did not get what she deserved, Ricardo."

"But the ethical notes are central to her character! It's impossible to have a discussion of her traits without - "

"It's possible."

The tasmanian devil spluttered, smoothing over his bleached headfur habitually.

"Alright, I've got 'penitence' down with a question mark," the deep-voiced black bear, Frederick, said boredly.

"Let's move on to the next question and come back to this one, we've been on it for too long..." the final member of their group said a bit nervously as he glanced around the rest of the classroom. He was a twitchy, skinny, tall, athletic-looking doberman named Mortimer, whose navy-blue underwear were perennially peeking out from between the hem of his shirt and his gym shorts in the back. Pretty plain, looked like boxer-briefs or briefs, cheap generic brand, but at least the gray waistband wasn't crinkly and gross.

Hey, gay men can't help but notice these things.

"Agreed," Brad grumbled, making no attempt to conceal his phone usage as he clicked through texts. The others had been doing it too!

'Jonathon Howard: Heheh what's cute is when you make the little yeeef sound I thought that was a fox thing'

Snort. He tried not to blush. He didn't think for a moment that the frisky Ricardo would let him live down a blush. 'Shadaaaaap youre pretty noisy yourself'.

It was just... really hard not to yeeef, when you were almost there and your knot was crammed between two rump cheeks and bumping a raccoon tail and the furs and the sweats and the fffff...

Damn... wuff was horny today... Boxers were touching places they didn't usually touch. He hoped Ricardo didn't notice that, sitting next to him like he was, he didn't want to give the insipid marsupial the impression he was attractive. Not that he wasn't... but Brad was not thinking about stuffing his cock into a tas.

He was thinking about the way Jonathon's soft-furred thighs felt, wrapped around his waist.

He was thinking about how Jonathon's little teeth felt on either side of his cock, as his tongue lap-lap-lapped at the tip until it drove the wolf crazy.

He was thinking of their first time, their second, their most recent. They'd tried doggy. Hadn't tried cowgirl yet. Was the appropriate term cowboy, or was it gender-nonspecific?

I wanna fuck my boyfrieeeeennnnnnddddd! his brain yowled. His cock throbbed to match, fully out, knot halfway swollen. He carefully adjusted his legs. After seeing Jonathon in those tight boxer-briefs several times, he didn't wonder anymore why the raccoon was always the one who had to manipulate things with his paws to be comfortable. He bet the slightly chubby coon was still wearing underwear that had fit him when he was skinnier... Sure made a nice bulge, though, and made his ass look spectacular.

'Jonathon Howard: Heheh I can't wait to see you again... You free tomorrow?'

Big smile. Cocktwitch. 'yah think so hmmm better go buy some condoms' They'd talked about trying without, since Brad had been tested, but Jonathon was still a bit new to the cleaning department, and had (rather embarrassedly) suggested they wait until he could google some things. Brad hadn't found him bad in that area at all... but if coon wanted an extra layer, wuff wasn't protesting. Felt more than good enough to keep him happy.

"So her motivation in the bedroom scene is to accuse him of rape later on, right?"

"No, no, no, it's a metaphor, she never submits to him because she controls him, but she still seduces him because even her ambition can't best her emotions!" Ricardo swooned. "It's a love story!"

"She seduces Tesk and then accuses him of raping her on a technicality to further her own selfish causes... and it's a love story." On the other side of Mortimer, Frederick quirked an eyebrow, having paused halfway through writing a sentence.

"The point isn't the content, it's the subtext!"

Brad mmphed. "Yeah. She's a selfish bitch, sure, we know that from countless examples already. Destreygo doesn't need to drive that point home any harder, he obviously wants us to get something else out of it." See? Ricardo wasn't wrong all the time.

"'Even selfish people are people?'" Mortimer suggested tentatively.

Frederick crossed his burly arms. "Maybe... but I think 'love story' is a bit much."

What about Ricardo isn't a bit much? Brad wondered. Oh, Jonathon had replied already.

'heheh, you should let me buy some sometime... I don't even know what size you are... don't even know what size I am :P'

Awww... 'Its easy to google for I think they make special ones for you since coons tend to be a bit skinnier'

Mmmm... Jonathon cock... Man, he looked so hot with it just sticking out, pink and exposed and leaking a little bit...

Another message came in, so quickly that it couldn't be a reply to the one he'd just sent.

'Crap I just remembered I have another appointment at the hospital tomorrow from 3-5 :/'

Oh boy. 'More tests I thought they were done? you need a ride I can get off of work early don't you have a class then?'

The wolf tuned out of his group's conversation entirely, remembering anxiously what had happened last week...

I about flipped out in the waiting room.

I mean, already freaked, already scared and angry and all that, and then this dumpy'n'stodgy raccoon couple hurries in and yells something about a two-hour drive... Man, what if they'd arrived an hour earlier, when I was yelling at the nurse, trying to get her to let me see my boyfriend?

Not like I didn't know it was futile. Didn't even know if he was okay for hours, or what happened, or what... If I'd thought about it I wouldn't've risked his parents figuring out who I was, with the way he's acted about it...

Guess your mind doesn't really work straight when you hear that your boyfriend is actively having a seizure.

Okay, I guess I didn't know that then... Mandy just told me he'd collapsed and they were taking him to the hospital... called me from his number, weirded me out, then scared the shit out of me... But she sat with me in the waiting room. Heh. Didn't even hardly know my name... but she knew Jonathon would want her to call me.

Out of all people... me.

Great girl, that one... Maybe I can get to know Jonathon's friends a bit better eventually...

"What do you think, Brad?" Ricardo lisped.

The wolf glanced up. "Sure, works for me," he rumbled.

Apparently, that was an acceptable answer, because Frederick looked down decisively and resumed writing, and Mortimer nodded a little. Apparently, it was also the right answer, because Ricardo looked faintly peeved.

Teehee.

"I-I think we should all put our names on it in case he asks us to turn it in soon," Mortimer said, his long skinny tail whizzing back and forth past Frederick's knees and thumping repeatedly against the back of the row of seats in front of them. The mare sitting in said seat threw him a glare that made him quail and curl it up around the armrest.

"Yeah, all right," Frederick concurred, scrawling neatly on the page before passing it to the doberman, whose pawwriting was much more dubious. Brad glanced down at his phone.

'Nope they want me to do an MRI now bleh. well I don't want you to be away too long but you can pick me up if you like :)'

Hmh... He'd really rather be with the raccoon if his head was going to go in a big tube... Jane would surely give him the time off...

Scribble 'Brad Wilson'. Correct the spelling of 'Brad'.

Aaaah, Jonathon would probably be fine... the testing they'd done so far had turned up a fat lot of nothing anyway. Sigh. 'okay Ill be by at 5 then :]'. It was the least he could do... Show he cared about the raccoon... and get to see him, too.

Oh! And hadn't Daniel asked to meet Brad's mysterious boyfriend, like... a while ago? He wondered if the dragon would be free... He could ask at work tomorrow.

' I actually have a friend whos been wanting to meet you maybe we can hang out too :]'

He'd just have to make sure Jonathon didn't skip his late english class, like he had for their classy date two weeks ago. Bad waccoon!

...Not that it hadn't been worth it, a twitch reminded him...

Never gonna forget that night...

That was... what, two V-cards he had now? ...Maybe 2.5, if you counted Todd, but... but he didn't count Todd.

Talk about bad ways to maintain his relatively benign mood. The wolf scowled.

He knew who had his. Todd, the same uncounted 0.5... Wallace had punched out a hole... Dillon, too...

The rest was all...

"But hey!" Ricardo slapped him on the shoulder, an uncharacteristically masculine gesture that made the wolf jump. "We've got the smart alternative student here to help us get decent grades, right?"

Brad blinked. Ricardo was beaming at him in an uncomfortably personal way. Mortimer was grinning awkwardly. Even Frederick cracked a small smile.

"Just how old do you guys think I am, anyway?" Brad asked, a little hurt.

The beaming turned to a sardonic smirk. The grin grew bewildered, the smile flattened. "Well, you're clearly older than us, you've talked about your job, and you listen to music that came out when we were still wetting the bed..." - Here Mortimer blushed, and Frederick scoffed - "...I'd hazard a guess at about..." Ricardo frowned self-importantly, and then nodded confidently. "Twenty-seven. But that's fine! You're pretty cool!" He leered in a way that implied 'cool' was the opposite of the temperature he meant.

Brad stared. Mortimer smiled tentatively again, hopeful, curious... Frederick was impassive.

"I'm twenty-three," Brad remarked dryly. "And I've been in college since I left high school."

The doberman, were he a more squeaky species, would have surely eeped. Even Frederick gained a tangibly awkward awawardness.

"Oh, I see," Ricardo said, frowning a bit and peering at him. "I suppose you do look a bit young for that..."

Nice recovery. Bradley Wilson's self esteem, setting off alarm bells in global markets today when it skydived to near worthless... Anyone care to buy up a few shares?

The wolf rolled his eyes and stuffed his stuff back into his stuff-holder. People were turning in their groupwork; Ricardo was checking his claws and blathering to a nearby girl about a TV show as though nothing had happened; Mortimer was still watching Brad anxiously, tail metronomic.

'okay sure and thanks you sexywuff you see you tomorrow ;)'

Winky face. His self-esteem rebounded a bit, and his boner, which had lagged, surged back to life in his damp boxers. Fuuuuck, he wished he could go home and pound the jizz out of it thinking about tight raccoon butts... But he was still on campus for several hours, and after that, Math... And he ought to be working on the homework due next week...

If his dick could send text messages, he would have gotten a sad face. With tear.

'yep see you then hope everything goes okay :]'

Brad shut his phone and stuck it back in his pocket.

Damn, I hope he's not epileptic and this was just a weird thing... Talk about one more thing to worry about... In addition to the coon's coming-out-problems and general awkwardness and self-image issues and...

Hm. He seemed to handle all that okay, though. Really, for as much as he was able to freak out on occasion... the guy was pretty chill.

Damn. He was starting to talk like Ricardo. He wondered if the tasmanian devil mixed florid language with slang in an attempt to be ironic, or because he actually was that ironic.

Meh. Fuck 'im. Twenty-seven?! Yeah, whatever, asshole. Thanks a lot.

The last twenty minutes of lecture dra-a-a-a-aged by. Brad was uncomfortably conscious of his boner, which would not seem to go away, and he had a feeling that Ricardo had noticed it by now - the marsupial kept glancing his direction. It wasn't clear precisely what the other male was looking at, but it was clear it was 'Brad'.

He was also uncomfortably conscious of the rather muscular but slender doberman to his left. Tail wagging nonstop, paws folded between his thighs, sitting on the edge of his seat. Glancing every now and then, a lot like the marsupial...

Unlike Ricardo, Mortimer wasn't looking at the wolf... he was looking at Frederick.

For chrissakes, how many gay guys could you line up in a lecture hall?!

You don't know he's gay, wuff, shut up, don't be dumb, his brain grumbled. Sure, it was tempting to see every glance one male passed to another as laden with homosexual subtext, if that was what you were into, but that didn't mean it made any sense.

Brad and Frederick stared down at the end of the lecture hall. The other two did their glancing, their anxious attention-seeking. The bear was taking notes. The wolf was yawning and scratching his chest.

Man... With the way he was slumping... He could almost imagine Jonathon sitting in his lap... Sliding up and just... impaling himself. Let's try this 'cowgirl' stuff. He'd make such a cute 'Eeehnhhnnnhhg...' as he went down...

He's really been great at taking me considering he's new to this, Brad thought, trying to ignore the twitching he was only encouraging now. I mean, I'm not a monster, but I guess I'm pretty big, right? And he's just fine with it... I hope I'm not hurting him, but he seems happy enough... Probably helps that we go so gently...

Brad smiled a little. He wasn't usually one to be too rough with his partner, unless the mood was right. But with Jonathon... there was something more. An extra incentive to just... cuddle the fuck out of the raccoon as his dick slooooowly glided in and out of his nicely-sized rump... It got a bit faster towards the end, but it was never hard, not really what you would call 'pounding'.

Just... 'fucking'.

That wasn't a rough word. It didn't have to be, at least.

"And so I want to make sure you all get a good head start on it before it's suddenly finals week and you're freaking out, okay?"

The sloth instructor was shouting over the sounds of packing up. Brad shook his head dazedly. What, now?

"So, what do you think, Brad?!" Ricardo put to him abruptly, as though they'd been having a conversation for several minutes and had only just been interrupted.

"Huh?" the wolf replied inelegantly.

Ricardo gave him an infuriating smile. "While you were daydreaming about me, we received lots of information about our final project." He grinned. "A research paper. And he wants us..." he paused, with relish, "...to work in pairs!"

Oh god.

"Oh god," Brad moaned quietly.

How had he let himself get cornered this way? Frantically, he glanced to his left. Mortimer was hesitantly saying something to the bear on his other side.

"MORTIMER YOU WANT TO BE PARTNERS?!?!" the wolf all but screamed.

The doberman cringed and stared at him, ears flicking back. "O-oh... Um... well... I was gonna be partners with..."

Frederick, who had been stuffing things into his bag, got up and left without a backward glance. The canine's eyes shifted back toward him, following the ursine's back away into the crowd.

"Sorry Ricardo, haha, I already have a partner!" the wolf said victoriously (even though he had yet to achieve victory); he slapped the doberman hard on the back, drawing his attention and another cringe. Brad beamed at the tasmanian devil, who was looking at them uncertainly. "Isn't that right, Morty Mort?!"

The canine stared at him, and then sighed. "Oh, all right," he mumbled. "...Probably already had one anyway..."

"Excellent!" the wolf enthused. Privately, he was cringing even worse than the dog. I'll make it up to you, I promise...

Ricardo crossed his arms and tossed his silken hair. "Oh, come on. You know you want to be with me."

Brad stared. His outlandish smile fell like a stalled airplane.

Then, abruptly, he started laughing, and couldn't stop.

"PAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAAHAHAHAHAHA-HYUCK-HYUCK-HYUCK - gaaaaasp - HYAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA..."

The tasmanian devil's expression had changed from haughty to humiliated. "How uncouth," he snarled.

"Oh god... Oh god..." Brad wiped his eyes, and then looked up, expression devoid of mirth. "Here, Mort, let's exchange numbers, I'll text you later..."

"O-okay!" the dog agreed, mustering a smile bravely. He pulled out his phone, which was the cheap flip kind. "And, uh, call me Mortimer, please... Anything shorter is all latin-y and depressing."

Brad hoped the poetic marsupial on his other side had heard that.

The wolf entered in the numbers his companion rattled off. Between digits, he looked up at the guy again... surveyed him. Not a bad-looking guy, for a fellow canine. Skinny, but almost as tall as Brad himself. Athletic, great build... not a bodybuilder, but lots of muscle. Wore t-shirts and basketball shorts too large for him. And blue underwear, apparently. Brad kind of wanted to subtly suggest the guy pull his shirt down in the back, but he didn't want to embarrass the dobie either... and if the canine's uncontrollable tail and ears were any sort of indicator, he was a bit of a nervous, neurotic type.

He really didn't know Mortimer very well. Somebody who usually sat several rows to the left and a few down. He didn't think they'd exchanged any words until today.

"Great, we can talk about topics and stuff like this weekend or so then!" Brad said cheerfully, gathering up his stuff. The dobie smiled and nodded and acted dobieish, doing the same.

"Brad," Ricardo said huskily.

"Yeah, I think so too, this should be great!" The wolf tried to glue himself to the doberman's side.

"Brad." This time it was sharp. Mortimer glanced back uncertainly at the tas.

Sigh.

"Well, see you later, I guess, Mortimer!" The wolf waved, and got a wave back.

"I hope you're enjoying this game," the marsupial said without preamble, when he had the other male's attention.

"Aren't you?" the wolf huffed. "You're the one who wanted to play."

Haughtily, Ricardo flicked some imaginary dust off his claws, and cast a diagonal glance up at the wolf. "Look, Bradley. We both know what this is about." He slowly rose to his feet, and walked forward, placing one foot in front of the other. "You know what I want. And I know... what you want."

Brad's eyes drew up from the tasmanian devil's tight jeans, to his v-necked shirt, to his small, toothy muzzle, to his large eyes. The room was growing increasingly deserted as people filed out.

If you were into the pretty effeminate boy look... it would be hard to deny that Ricardo had been lucky in the genetic lottery. Wallace wouldn't've stood a chance against this guy in a fabulous-off.

"So why don't you just reach out and take it?!" The marsupial stopped sharply, up close, breath heaving in his thrust-forward chest.

Bradley was not amused.

"How about you take a fucking hint?!" the wolf growled back. "I'm not interested. It's been most of a semester and you're still pulling this shit; when are you going to get it through your skull that I am not interested?"

"Come on," Ricardo said softly, before his voice went hard again. "Everyone knows you're a big fat faggot like the rest of us. Who're you trying to impress? Your mom?" He scoffed. "God?"

If there was one game the wolf was tired of playing, it was that one.

"I have a boyfriend!" he snarled. There, confirmation and everything, you douchefuck.

"I have a broken claw..." the tasmanian devil replied, morosely, looking at it.

Brad glared. "What?"

"Hm? Oh, I'm sorry." Ricardo looked back at him serenly. "I thought we were talking about shit that doesn't matter."

The wolf stood there for a moment.

"Go fuck yourself." Brad slung his backpack over his shoulder, ears back and up in fury, and stormed off.

He could hear the smile in Ricardo's voice. "You'll come around, Brad. When you're lonely, when you're bored, when your heart breaks. You know where to find me..."

Thud, thud, thud. Workboots moved from tile to concrete. The last of the leaves were dropping off the trees, now, from those damn oaks that never seemed to shed all the way...

Brad's mane was all flared out. He must have made quite the imposing sight, pounding down the sidewalk like that, leather jacket and all.

But it wasn't Ricardo he was thinking about, now.

It was another. More graceful and elegant than even the marsupial... though perhaps not quite as pretty. More... rugged. Subtly handsome. Not so effeminate, just...

Smiling. Gliding through the air like water. Leaning over a wolf who clung to him, clung to that raspy skin that dragged on his fur and abraded his nose...

A wolf who lay in their bed alone, at first sometimes... and then often. A wolf who cuddled sheets, and reminded himself that he was not the sort of guy who cried.

If you were so fucking unhappy, why didn't you just leave?! he snarled inside.

He could almost see Dillon now... licking some other guy's cum off of his face, perhaps, while foreign panting was heard in the background. Replying in that smooth, cool, liquid voice...

If you were so unhappy... why didn't you?

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No, this story has NOT reached the Loads and Loads of Characters point yet. In other news... things are happening. Plot events occurred. Drama may ensue. You have been warned...

...I should post that last bit on every episode.

See you guys next week!