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Don't blush, don't blush, don't blush, don't blush, don't blush…

When Lowell earlier removed his shirt, I was primarily focused on his nasty Hellfire bullet wound embedded into his left shoulder. He didn't seem fazed by the dried blood in his cauterized wound. Instead, he simply grabbed a pair of (clean, he insisted) tweezers from his backpack and insisted I be the one to help him remove it since—by his logic—my Dad worked as a medical doctor.

“C'mon, I can't do it on my own." he argued indifferently, setting his flashlight's intensity to high and placing it aside to partially illuminate our area, “And didn't your dad take you to a clinic trip as a cub?"

“Lowell, that was only a few times, and only when I was ten!"

“If it's left in there too long, it could get infected," the stubborn wolf placed them in my paws and sat back down on the kitchen chair. When I didn't move, he twitched his ears to me, proposing, “I won't make a sound or move too much. Okay?"

“What have I gotten myself into?" I mumbled aloud.

“You decided to join a rebellion," Lowell laughed, only to grow quiet when I got to work.

“No moving now," I reminded him. “Like you said, I can't stick it in if you're moving around too much."

He snickered childishly. “That's what she said—OW! Easy there!"

“I thought you told me you wouldn't move around too much?"

“I wasn't ready enough, okay?!"

To my surprise, he did not make a single loud decibel when I began digging deeper through the wound. He did tense and snarl slightly as I touched the Hellfire bullet, holding back some tears as I prodded for the metal embedded into his shoulder flesh. I tried my best not to notice this and instead focused on getting a good grip on the metallic chunk. Eventually, I finally found it and pulled, only to have trouble. However, with a bit of strength and some twisting, I pulled the literally bloody chunk of metal out.

“Ahhh, that fucking smarts!" Lowell yelped in pained relief. He nearly covered his wound on reflex but froze and tentatively pulled his paw, knowing better. “Fuck, fuck, fucking ow! Get some bandages, Adam! Hurry! Ow!"

I started feeling my head spin at the sight of blood gushing down the wolf's arm, but I fought through the nausea and snatched for the roll of bandage wrap in his bag.

“Get the Vaseline too!" he instructed me.

“I know, I know!"

Thank the Lord Abigail had given me some instructions on how to deal with a bullet would. Granted, it was only one time and I only watched on the sidelines, but her words still carried on in the back of my mind. After pulling out the bullet, I needed to act fast and cover it in a thin layer of petroleum jelly before firmly wrapping it up until the bleeding couldn't leak.

“Be sure to change it out and repeat the process almost daily, until the hole closes itself up." she later explained to me, “There will always be a scar, but the priority is making sure the patient doesn't lose blood."

“Heh, ah…" he winced again as my bandage grazed the hole in his shoulder. “Y…You're not half-bad at this, to be honest."

“Not half-bad?" I raised an expectant eyebrow. “That's all you got to say?"

“Well, what do ya want me to say? 'It's the best bandaging in the history of medicine'? You're the greatest nurse of all time'?"

“Why thank you," I laughed with pride, fully aware of how he rolled his eyes at me. I started putting the med kit away as Lowell stood up and stretched. “So…what're...Oh."

Unfortunately for me, I fully realized minutes later how…muscular and strong he looked.

Well-defined in his biceps and presenting a noticeable six-pack beneath the grey fur on his stomach, Lowell's upper body seemed like a Renaissance sculptor's dream, if it weren't for the occasional scars. When I didn't become entranced by his glistening, toned chest, I was shocked at the sight of how many scars and bullet wounds riddled his body. A darker-humored side of me even joked about playing connect the dots with them until I formed some shape or constellation.

“Oh, these?" he half-laughed casually when I realized I was staring. “Funny stories, really."

The laid-back canine pointed to the scar on his right shoulder blade. Like somebody stabbed him haphazardly with a sharp yet blunt instrument. Maybe a pen of some kind?

“I got this baby three years ago after calling Liv a…c-word… back at the hotel…" he chuckled nervously, “She grabbed a ballpoint pen and remind me that just because I'm gay, doesn't mean I can curse at women…"

Lowell next aimed his finger at a bullet wound just two inches downward, which grazed his arm.

“Got this one when a cop caught me breaking into a circuit box for a mission. Barely made it out with my hide, but unfortunately, it wasn't with a Hellfire bullet, so it was an even bitchier thing to take out without dying of blood loss. Heh…"

Lowell continued to describe a few more of his nasty wounds on his left bicep, left pectoral muscle and lower ribcage on his right side; knife fight with a mugger, falling on some sharp broken glass while trying to climb down a chain link fence, and the first time he ever received a Hellfire bullet from when he was nineteen.

“One of my first missions, believe it or not," he bragged.

I unknowingly raised a paw to feel the last one in my fingers, aware of how warm and solid his side felt. He did not protest when I examined it. It had long since healed up over the years, yet as he pointed out earlier, this wound had him under the intensive care of Macdonald for months in order to physically and psychologically recover. The way the wolf brushed it off like a mere bug bite made me wonder more about him. What past of his made him no longer fear death like so many furs often did?

“And here," he guided my paw down his right side until the fingers touched a familiar scar on his lower thigh, hidden beneath a pair of torn trousers, “is the one you're probably most familiar with." When I continued staring at it—and him—in confusion, the wolf clarified, “This is the bullet I took when me and Liv saved you back in Easter."

Suddenly, blood rushed to my cheek when I finally realized which body part my fingers were closest to. The heat of them could practically be felt through the ragged fabrics of the wolf's jeans.

“Hey, Adam?"

I didn't pull away, stuttering out, “Y-Yes, L-Lowell?"

“Do I make you uncomfortable?" he asked, surprisingly serious despite folding his ears downward to the floor. “When…When we…ya know, do this? I-I just wanna make sure…"

“No, y-you don't…" I reassured him, looking him straight in the eye to show I meant it, and blushing meanwhile. “L-Lowell, you never make me feel uncomfortable…never."

“What about," he gulped, lightly grinning in the right corner of his lip, “when we…ah, kissed earlier? Or when, ya know…I kissed you?"

A lump formed in the back of my throat, but I managed to shake my head. When Lowell relaxed at my answer, I still couldn't find the words to tell him why I wasn't uncomfortable.

“Lowell…I…I—"

Sudden footsteps from upstairs yanked this moment away. I immediately pulled my paw away from Lowell's thigh just as a certain cougar meekly peeked down from the top of the staircase.

“Are you boys doing alright?"

“We are, Mary!" I yelped a little too loudly.

Mary either decided not to question it or didn't notice.

“If you say so," she yawned in the darkness. “It's late, so Kevin and I will see you in the morning, alright?"

“Is there anything you need up there, Mrs. Lange?" Lowell found his voice a moment later. “I'll admit, it's not exactly a resort, but if you need—"

“No, we are just fine up here," she replied kindly. “The master bed is comfortable, surprisingly, and there isn't…too much dust to bother us. But thanks anyway. Good night, boys."

“Good night, Mrs. Lange."

“Please, Lowell—is that right? Call me Mary."

“Alright then, Mary," the wolf laughed. “You have a good night!"

“Have a good night, Mary," I added.

Her footsteps receded upstairs to the second floor. The awkward silence that followed hovered over me and Lowell as we cleaned up and I followed his swishing tail down a nearby hallway, backpacks in one paw and a flashlight in the other.

While some areas of the abandoned suburban home had seen better days, mostly as we passed by the bathroom stripped of copper wiring, the guest bedroom remained mostly untouched. Sure, my mother would've fainted at the sight of gathering dust bunnies in the corner and the peeling wallpaper, not to mention the graffitied cardboard covering the window that looked out into a desolate sidewalk, but the bed itself wasn't too disturbed. Granted that it didn't have any sheets or blankets or pillows of any kind, but a bare mattress was better than any grimy floor. Especially in the dark.

Thank God Lowell pulled out a spare blanket from the back of the adjacent closet.

“Not the first time we've used this room, the Defiant and I," he smiled softly, his grin almost invisible in the dimly lit room. “So uh, you wanna…get ready for bed? We can use our shirts and pants as sheets under us while we sleep."

“Won't they get dusty?" I asked.

“A couple of the houses here are still connected to the power grid," he turned off the flashlight, then began stripping down to his underwear. “We can wash our clothes with some boiling water and use the dryer in the basement when it's daylight."

I pulled my shirt over my shoulders and began unbuckling my belt. The awkwardness from earlier no longer existed, not in complete darkness. We were just comrades trying to make the best of a situation. Nothing more and nothing less.

Once he lay our clothes on the mattress and I joined him in bed, I asked again, “Why wait until daylight?"

“Gotta wait until morning," he whispered into my ear, carefully wrapping the soft blanket over us. “Can't exactly have a patrol seeing houselights flicker on and off in a condemned building, can we?"

“Ah." A perfectly valid point.

At some point later on, Lowell and I drifted to sleep.

***

I woke up early in the morning, when it was too dark for summer sunlight to creep through the cracks of the boarded window nearby. I could barely see anything in the dilapidated room, but I could definitely feel something warm and solid rub against my backside.

My foggy mind dismissed it for several seconds until I felt it again. That was when I realized what it was…or who it was, when I felt Lowell's steady breath against the back of my neck. Then it finally dawned on me.

The wolf was spooning me, his strong arms possessively wrapping around my torso as his erection poking through his underwear into me. A part of me almost panicked, then a soft moan erupted from me when I felt his hardness press against me again. He pushed again, and I realized then that not only was Lowell asleep, he must've been dreaming too. And it was the kind of dream most Devout citizens called 'sinful'.

A small part of me thought it'd be wise to wake the wolf up and tell him what he was doing. However, combined with his cool exhales tickling my neck, his protective arms caressing my sides and the fur of his scarred yet chiseled chest, I couldn't find a reason to complain. Especially when I felt Lowell cold nose touch the sensitive spot just under my headfur, right at the top of my spine.

“Oh~"

Oh crap, did I moan a little louder this time?

Lowell stirred behind me, clearing his throat and then growing uncomfortably silent, his arms stiff as two wooden boards amid the dimness of our small room.

“Oh shit…uh, A…Adam?" he whispered after a moment. “You awake?"

My tail twitched nervously beneath the blanket, slapping against the clothes under us and our legs close together.

“Y-Yeah, I am…"

His arms instantly retracted, and he scooted back a couple inches along the mattress.

“Shit, uh…I'm sorry, Adam," he nervously laughed before yawning in the near darkness. “I uh, you know I'm a cuddler, and I'm sorry I got morning wood. Happens to all of us…"

A slight blush crept under the fur on my cheeks once again, and I didn't know if it was the lack of sight in the room or a sudden boldness in character, but I suddenly found myself uttering, “I don't mind at all…"

“…you don't?"

My ears felt hotter than the sun.

“…no."

An audible gulp could be heard as I craned my neck. Before I knew what was happening, the wolf had scooted forward to spoon me again, slowly testing the waters as his fingers traced my thighs. And he pressed his covered erection into the back of my leg.

What was I doing? Where the hell did this boldness suddenly appear from?

“You hard too?" he asked a moment later.

My tail curled aside from the sensation of his smooth, hardening cock, stretching the soft fabric of his underwear as it rubbed against my butt crack. It only made me harder and caused my length to form a pitched tent against my briefs.

“Mmhmm…"

He whispered into my right ear, itself folding in feverish heat, “Can I feel it?"

“…y-yes," I gasped, panting and trying my best not to sound uncertain. Because I was certain.

Lowell's right paw crawled over my shivering stomach and searched until the fingers found my waistband, peeling them back and gripping my slick erection beneath the still blanket. He held it firmly in his sturdy palm, and stroking it once caused me to instantly gasp.

“You okay?" he paused.

“I…I am," I giggled softly. “D-Don't stop on my account…"

“If you say so…, but keep it down, okay?" he huskily whispering once more into my folded ears, “We don't want the Langes upstairs hearing you moan like a virgin schoolboy."

My claws gripped into the edge of the mattress. His firm strokes and nuzzling into my right shoulder made me purr. Stifling another moan as he continued grinding into me, and pumped my leaking, barbed shaft, I felt the urge to call my wolf's name. Rationality won out though. All I could do to quietly encourage Lowell was by blindly reaching behind me until I felt his firm, muscled rear end, pulling him closer to me until his cock practically hot-dogged (I learned that term from one of the smuggled porn videos he once showed me) my clothed cheeks.

I was practically salivating for the next step.

“Heh. Eager, are we?" he murmured, sighing back lustful and yearning as much as I was. “Another time, and another place though…when you're ready and we have time."

I whimpered, yet he made up for it by two more firm strokes and continuous humping, the wolf's canines nibbling on my shoulder.

“L-Lowell…Oh, God, Lowell…" I bit my lower jaw and mewled in carnal delight. “I'm…getting close…"

“Me," he panted and growled all at once, “Me too…Adam…ah…"

He bit back the primal urge to howl, my own voice brought to whimpering as Lowell's firm fingers brought me to climax. I felt and heard the wolf ejaculate too when his erection grew flaccid, the only hint of any relieved tension coming from the musky wetness pressing into my back leg.

“Ah…sorry 'bout that…" he chuckled, still gasping for breath. “Was I…okay?"

I couldn't prevent myself from snickering at his obvious question.

“What? What is it, Adam?"

My feline tail wagged teasingly against his thigh.

“You were amazing…" I meant it too. Especially since my heart couldn't stop racing at the rush of us…doing that, in here of all locations. “You were really amazing, silly wolf."

“Oh. Yeah, of course, I'm really amazing at that, heh." Lowell gently cupped my cheek in his large paw, probably smiling into my eyes before he cleared his throat, “I…uh, have some…some wipes in my backpack…by the…by the bed. Right pocket…"

I tiredly pulled away from his embrace and searched the darkness for Lowell's backpack. True to his word, I found the wipes inside of the right pocket beside the bed, and pulled out a few to wipes some of our cum out of our fur. Neither of us minded helping the other, not after…that.

“So," I finished cleaning my stomach and crotch, “can I ask why you have these?"

The wolf simply chuckled, kissing my nose as we lay back down under the warm blanket.

“Never know when ya need to do a good wanking, huh?"

I simply laughed too, scooting closer back into his arms until we drifted back to that comforting, dreamless sleep. The kind of dreamless sleep we shared and enjoyed in this kind of closeness.

The only difference though was what we just did together earlier, in this bed, on the run from the law and the same government we were both working to destroy. Before, we were just homosexual rebels, but now…I think I was a homosexual rebel falling in love.

***

A few days passed, and each morning afterward seemed like any other. Lowell would wake up early at dawn to do a perimeter check around the lonely neighborhood, then turn on basement breaker box in the downstairs basement to give us some power. Unfortunately, while we could still get water from a nearby stream and boil it on the stovetop for drinking (and washing our clothes), the closed-off water supply network meant all four of us were forced to share deodorant. Kevin wouldn't quit complaining about the lack of a shower at first, asking Lowell and I why we couldn't have hunkered down in a condemned house that didn't have dusty shelves or actual plumbing, until Mary calmed him down by the next day.

Neither of them mentioned what Lowell and I did that first night. Or the repeat done the night after, this time before we fell asleep. I didn't know if they knew, but I didn't want to risk it. Still, the fact that that cocky rebellious wolf wouldn't stop grinning from ear to ear, his teeth more visible each time I blushed in his direction, did not help in any way.

All four of us were in the semi-tidied and undusted kitchen (thanks to me and a meticulous Mary), with Lowell cooking some ramen in a pot, myself reading through an old copy of National Geographic and Mary watching Kevin toying with the TV mounted in the corner by the smashed table.

The fact it was the boxy, bulky old version from the 1990s and hadn't been smashed to pieces by angry teens or a copper-hungry scavenger proved miracles existed.

“…aaaaaaaaaaaaand, bingo!" the cougar laughed as the static became a visible image. “Let's just turn up the volume a little…"

“…local news, Chicago police are still searching for the suspected terrorists responsible for defacing several buildings during the Fourth of July celebration at Navy Pier. Commissioner Lowe released a statement this morning declaring that the Homeland Security Age would be assisting Chicago PD in apprehending those responsible. This comes just several hours after President Nessen gave a speech—"

The local and national news would not stop mentioning the 'terrorist attack' the Defiant performed across almost every major city across Devout America. When news pundits didn't keep boasting about the new economy thanks to Canada's supposedly legal annexation, they were scripted to rewrite what actually happened on the Fourth of July. From what me and Lowell would later learn, one newscaster in Manhattan went so far as to lie and claim the Defiant actually tried to bomb several churches across New York City. According to the same newscaster, the NYPD just so happened to defuse them right on time, further fueling the lies and paranoia the Devout government fed on to survive.

“In related news, David Farthing himself released a video statement praising the response by President Nessen and condemning what he and the rest of his family are calling, 'deviant criminals'."

It seemed as if everyone's ears perked at the mention of the Farthing namesake. And all of our eyes were quickly drawn to the grainy, unfiltered television screen as it revealed a greying canine in a plaid shirt. It was an elderly, light grey-furred timber wolf sitting behind a closed black curtain, and the same mahogany desk that belonged to someone important. Like a Supreme Court judge or the President of the Devout States of America. However, this very same elderly hunched wolf held more power throughout this country than either one. It didn't help though that any foreigner watching would wonder why he wore a red plaid shirt.

“Devout America should not yield to these deviant criminals who wish to turn back the hands of time, to when this great country and continent bathed in debauchery and sin," David Farthing said to the camera like a disappointed grandparent lecturing a troubled cub. “These hooligans ignore how we liberated Canada from its corrupt roots, how we brought salvation to our northern neighbor, like we have for Mexico and countless countries across the Caribbean Sea. They are a cowardly lot that do not know God's love…or the wrath of his righteous judgement. And as God's Divine Country, the Devout States of America will bring these evildoers to justice. As it says in Isaiah 13:11, 'I will punish the world for its evil, the wicked for their sins. I will put an end to the arrogance of the haughty and will humble the pride of the ruthless.'"

“…fuck you!" Lowell scoffed.

It earned him shocked gasps, from me and Mary, while Kevin jerked his back to glare at the foul-mouthed timber wolf across the counter.

He didn't even twitch an ear at the older feline. “What?"

“Must you talk like that, boy?" he growled. “You do not need to swear like a sailor."

“I do need to swear when David-motherfucking-Farthing pretends to be a victim," Lowell scoffed again. “That self-righteous prick has the balls to pretend he's the victim of this whole—"

I drowned out their arguing for a couple of minutes to give an apologetic glance to Mary nearby. She accepted it by tugging her shirt's collar and nervously laughing. We both mentally came to a consensus that them arguing had to occur sooner or later. It was inevitable when all four of us were on the run together.

“Meanwhile though," Lowell rolled his eyes at Kevin, “that nepotist assigns his cubs and grandcubs to different positions of power throughout the country. Hell, even President Nessen herself dated his youngest son for a couple of years."

“What are you trying to say, Lowell?" the older feline tried understanding to much audible annoyance. “Are you saying that David Farthing destroyed this country?"

“He sure did!" the wolf laughed.

“He saved this country, though!"

“Okay, he saved the economy and THEN left his inbred family to fuck this country over." Lowell clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed at this conversation. “Anyway, why're you defending the fucking prick? Right now, you aren't exactly a law-abiding citizen now, are you?"

“I'm not!" the older feline groaned. “I just thought I'd remind you that before Farthing and his Revenant Party, my parents and I lived and slept in a car in the early 1980s. Dad couldn't find a full-time job and Mom had to work double shifts at Cost Mart to even get gas money."

“Oh yeah, yeah. Who could ever forget Farthing and Reagan's clever 'revenomics' and New Eden Deal plan…"

“It helped us get out of the gutter," Kevin crossed his arms, staring directly at the wolf behind the stove. “If it weren't for them, I'd have still been out with my family begging for change on the sidewalk. If it weren't for him—"

“—this country would still be full of crime and immorality?" he finished for him. “Sure, sure, only for different kinds of 'crime' and 'immorality' to replace them."

Contemplating, I thought back to my time in the conversion clinic, only to push the memories away. Not now.

“Face it, Lange," Lowell sighed. “As much as Farthing did some good back then, this is now, and he is the same bastard who orders anybody that fucking disagrees with him to be executed!"

“Do not swear, boy…" Kevin tiredly groaned. “You know it annoys me and Mary."

“Or what?" the wolf held his paws up, eyebrows raised directly at Kevin in an open stance. “We're not in your fancy-schamncy townhouse anymore, Kev. I can swear as much as I motherfucking want."

Kevin frowned. “Except this isn't your house either, mutt."

“Whatever…" Lowell simply huffed and returned to stirring the boiling pot of ramen. “Here's some advice though: don't go protecting your supreme leader in front of the other rebels back at the hotel. They'll welcome you with open arms, but not if you're still holding some loyalty to the enemy…"

Kevin was left to ponder that as he and Mary awkwardly drew their eyes back to the TV, where an old (government-approved) film played as we ate our individual cups of ramen.

Later that night, I decided to join Lowell on one final perimeter check for the night. The sun had already set half an hour prior, leaving the western sky drenched in purples and yellows as the stars already twinkled to the east, leaving the quiet neighborhood shrouded in semi-darkness as cover for us. Neither of us even needed to bring a flashlight—not unless we wanted to alert someone to our presence behind the fence.

Speaking of which, we had already neared the opening of the fence when I decided to mention the wolf's rant during lunch.

“So…" I trailed off, looking behind me and then back to Lowell in front, “…can I ask why you were shouting at Kevin earlier?"

He sighed, “…I wasn't shouting, I was arguing."

“Then can I ask why you were arguing at Kevin earlier?"

“With?"

“Huh?" I asked, one of my ears twitched in confusion. “With?"

“The correct grammar is 'arguing with', not 'arguing at'," he smirked. “Are you sure you actually went to college, Adam? It's English 101."

Rolling my eyes at the mouthy canine, and not wanting to let him get away with getting out of this conversation, I decided to get straight to the point.

“You didn't have to rile him up earlier." I walked up beside the taller fur, “I know you and Kevin have your differences, but aren't you just kicking a dead animal by pointing out he's…new to being with the Defiant?"

“He's never known sacrifice." Lowell mumbled something else under his breath, then continued, “That cougar's always lived in a trust fund bubble, never seeing what the Devout government really does to its own citizens until his son…"

He did not need to finish the sentence, and I respected him for not adding insult to verbal injury regarding what the Langes lost.

“He's harbored us," I pointed out to the wolf. “They harbored us for the cause."

“Only to even a favor or two," Lowell jeered, angrily swishing his tail at the overgrown grass against our footpaws, “He isn't truly interested in change. He's just angry that the government interrupted his status quo by the fact they were gonna imprison his daughter for getting knocked up."

“I don't see what his cubs have to do with why you're angry…"

The wolf lightly growled, but not at me.

“I'm just mad that after all this time, he still has the fucking gall to 'give credit' to Farthing and his inbred brats for what they did," he further ranted, stomping for emphasis into the ground and causing loud crunching from decades-old leaves. “A few good things do not negate all the horrible shit they'd done to this country."

“You're right, you're absolutely right, Lowell," I reluctantly nodded in agreement, “but you don't need to keep picking fights just—"

“Shhh." He immediately silenced me, his ears now alert and raised high. “Look there."

An incoming car.

Quietly, Lowell pulled me in the opposite direction until we came upon an overgrown hedge. As planned, we hurriedly hit the deck and lay very still, our bodies close together in a hug, as the car passed on by. If its occupants—be they civilian, police officer or even Archangel—suspected somebody was in here, it could risk us being discovered.

Seconds later and the noise of rolling tires and a car engine faded away along the road. I almost started getting up from the until I felt a familiar hardness poking into my thigh.

“Ah, my bad!" Lowell scrambled to his feet, bashfully looking between me and the road. After he pulled me back up, the coy wolf apologized and said, “I usually get hard when I'm next to a cute guy, and we needed to keep ourselves huddles and outta sight…so…yeah…hehe, sorry…"

“You…think I'm cute?"

“Well…yeah, I do." He vigorously nodded, almost a little proudly. When my eyes traveled to the tent still visible in his jeans, Lowell cleared his throat. “Anyway, when I get hard, I need to nut one out, ya know? Otherwise I'll be hard all night and a bit of a distraction…So, if you want to go back to the house, I'll be back a little later…"

My eyes traveled to the faint outline of his hidden erection, and I thought of the nights before. Again, I would ask myself later into the night, where did this sudden boldness appear from?

Why did I suddenly feel the need to ask, “Can I…help you out?"

“Hm?" That certainly got the horny wolf's attention.

I repeated, “Can I help you…out…with that?"

The eerie calm of the condemned suburb seemed to intensify.

“You," he gulped hotly, “…you know we need to get up early for tomorrow's mission…"

“I do," I nodded, “but it's like you said earlier…it'll be a distraction."

“Well…" Lowell sounded uncertain, then relented. “Ah, what the hell…but keep quiet."

Butterflies and stones pelted around my stomach as the handsome wolf pulled me into the opened garage door of an empty house. Once the wolf unbuckled his pants and peeled down his underwear to reveal the long, curved outline of his member, part of me wished I'd brought a flashlight so I could fully see the wolf's dick again. Had it really been a whole month since we watched that Western Republic porno together?

This hadn't been the first time I ever kneeled down in front of another naked male before. This hadn't been the first time I ever marveled at the meaty, twitching girth of a canine, eagerly stroking the length and holding the throbbing shaft to my whiskered lips. This also hadn't been the first time I ever sucked it hungrily as my feline paws wandered up his strong legs, teasing him by caressing his tail that swished in pleasure.

No, no, Stephen and I had done the immoral deed several times between my bedroom and his. One time, we even found the courage to lick each other's length to climax while his parents were visiting colleagues a few neighborhoods away.

However, it was the first time I ever did something like this out in public. Or, at the very least, outside the supposed safety of a childhood bedroom.

“Mmmmm…Oh yeah…" Lowell gritted his teeth in-between deep, guttural growls. “Goddamn…y-you sure you're…ohhhh, a virgin?"

Closing my eyes to inhale more of his musky scent, I slowly pulled my maw back, suckling it along the way back. Then, I teasingly licked the drooling tip for added enjoyment. Just how my foxy friend liked it. And this timber wolf sure loved it, it seemed.

“I'm very sure," my low voice carried through the semi-darkness, “at least…I haven't been deflowered…"

Lowell muttered something indistinct, but I was sure he said, “I gotta change that."

I smirked up at the coy wolf and curled my lips once more over my teeth, licking my rough tongue along the underside of his wolfish member. Stephen also taught me that during the few time we pleasured each other.

“Mmmm, you know your," Lowell moaned, audibly trying his best not to be too loud for our own good, “…stuff. Mmmh. Try…try to angle your head, so my cock slides along the roof of your—ahhhhhhh, fuck that's it, Adam…"

Minutes later, and I felt him getting close. I felt his furry balls bouncing desperately against my chin grow faster, his shaft become even harder and his panting grow more raucous for release. It further became inevitable when the wolf pulled my head closer into his humping crotch.

“Oh shhhiiiiiiiiiiit. Oh, fuck, Adam, that's it~!"

I tried to tell him, “I thought you said to keep quiet?" only for that familiar warm seed to splash into my maw, but the salty taste and amount leaked out and dribbled onto the dirty floor underneath us. Luckily, I managed to swallow most of it down in three good gulps.

“Shit...uh," he half-laughed, panting still, “sorry again…"

I licked some of his cum off my muzzle, and one dollop off my right whisker, much to the wolf's amusement as he snickered in the dark.

“You look funny like that," he whispered to me, “and it's nights like this where I'm glad I'm a wolf. Great night vision and all…"

“Yeah, yeah, yeah," I sighed after finishing licking the rest of it off my lower lip.

“By the way, I'm holding my paw out to you," Lowell informed me, “just in case you can't see it."

Rolling my eyes at him—he probably was about to point that out too—I blindly gripped onto his paw and suddenly felt myself be pulled up. I staggered to my feet, knees feeling sore a little, and froze. I could feel Lowell's warm breath against mine. And hear him hold it for a couple seconds.

“So…" he spoke, “thank you…for that…I uh, needed it."

“Y-You're welcome…"

“Seriously, that…wow…that was a good uh, blowjob."

“Thank…Thank you, Lowell."

I slowly leaned forward and expected to feel the wolf kissing me back. Unfortunately, I stopped when I heard him shuffling his jeans back up.

“We-We should get back," Lowell said, “ya know, before Kev and Mary get worried…"

I sighed and nodded to him in slight reluctance, holding his paw as the handsome wolf guided me through the pitch-black neighborhood. All I could do was try my best to make out his shape, wondering what he thought of me.

***

That almost-second kiss lingered on my lips throughout the rest of the night. By five in the morning though, Lowell shook me awake and informed me we needed to go.

Two days beforehand, Johanna called Lowell on his burner phone to inform us of our next assignment: a local pastor and a few dozen other church-going furs were planning a small demonstration—all of them, according to Johanna, were 'too Christian to believe in the media's justifications for the occupation—outside of a Devout States Army recruiting station two blocks from Wrigley Field. Admins already deleted the original post, much to the anger of those participating, but they were still participating nonetheless, and Johanna wanted us to take some photos from a distance.

“Why's that?" I remember asking her on speaker. “Why don't we participate too?"

“Because we know the exact response the local police will give to the protesters," the doe spoke to me, then gave us a deep sigh. “Somebody needs to stay on the sidelines and document the truth."

The truth being that, despite what many Devout citizens were led to believe, that they could indeed stand up for what is right. And much more.

“Now, neither of you are to expose yourselves or get involved. That is a direct order, boys. I will not let you risk being captured. Do I make myself clear?"

“Roger that, ma'am," Lowell replied.

“Adam, do you understand?"

I wanted to ask why we could not fight back and protect the protesters, but I bit my tongue when that same question answered itself. We couldn't without being overrun with police and Archangels.

“…understood, ma'am."

“Good. I wish you both the best of luck, and to stay safe."

We promised the Langes that the 'side mission', as Lowell called it, would not be long, then snuck through the hole in the border fence and made our way to a bus stop. The first morning bus screeched to a stop, and we stepped on to find it filling up with plenty of furs holding cardboard signs. Most of them read phrases like 'Free Canada', 'Christian ? Slavery', 'Deliver Us from Imperial Evil' and simply 'Proverbs 22:16'.

'Whoever oppresses the poor to increase his own wealth', I recalled my Bible lessons, 'or gives to the rich, will only come to poverty.'

When the holder of that particular sign turned in my direction, I nearly jerked my head back in shock. I almost thought the red fox was Stephen.

“What is it?" Lowell asked in a hushed whisper.

My tail curled in embarrassment. It wasn't him. Just another red fox with different facial markings, and dark eyes instead of those same cerulean blue. Even his bored frown did not resemble the same boy I knew.

“It's…nothing," I replied in the same low tone. “I thought it was him…"

Lowell didn't comprehend what I meant until he noticed the red-furred fox sitting across from them on the bus, still distracted on his cellphone and not paying any attention to us.

“Listen," he leaned in closer so nobody could hear us, “wherever he is, there's nothing we can do now. I know you miss him a lot, but I need you here now. I need you focused on here and now, okay? I…need you here."

I could only nod and try to smile before the bus came to a halt.

“We're here."

Lowell and I stepped off the bus to a sight neither of us expected: a large crowd of gathered furs, most of them older than us and a significant portion holding up signs similar to the ones on the bus. I expected a decent amount to show up, maybe twenty or thirty at most, considering the size of the loyal congregation, but the number of civilians in front of us had to be at least fifty or seventy at most.

“Free Canada!"

“End the occupation!"

“Make America a DemoAgain!"

“Stop sending our children to die!"

Word had spread farther than anybody thought.

“Holy Mary Mother of God…" I finally breathed out.

“I know right?" Lowell lowly explained beside me amidst the chanting shouts and cheers, “It's been a few days since that big announcement of ours telling 'em to free Canada, and suddenly everyone feels like it's not cool to invade other countries anymore. Now, let's go."

Lowell led me around the gathering crowd until we made it to the entrance of an alleyway. When no police cars were in sight, we climbed up a fire escape to the second story roof of a gentrified coffee shop.

After we knelt behind an industrial air conditioner embedded into the gravel rooftop, Lowell grabbed a semi-new travel camera from his backpack—how many things did he have in there?—and began snapping pictures of the crowd.

“Hehe, Johanna's gonna be so happy to see this," he mentioned.

She definitely would. Already, the recruiting station had opened, and the only members of the population standing outside did not plan to join the army.

I could not remember a time where I'd seen protests, demonstrations or even activists. The only times where they did exist were in historical videos and school textbooks, degrading abortion activists and homosexual protesters who failed to understand the growing power of the Revenant Party and its ideals. The only forms of public participation I remembered from middle and high school classes were those in U.S. History (separate from Devout States History) that glorified and praised those who stood up against the degenerates in power. The same degenerates who supposedly allowed America to slowly fester in poverty and immoral law.

Now, seeing the populace below as they protested in the name of freedom, I wondered what the Revenant Party and their government's new definition of 'activism' transformed into.

Well, I got the answer when we heard bullets fly through the air, and a bulletproof wall of armed soldiers appear from behind a street corner, descending towards the scared crowd.

Fuck.