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One Winter's Night

** ** By Colin Leighton

It was frightfully cold that evening.

And not only cold, too - the wind howled, and snow fell in big, wet flakes, the kind that cover the ground so swiftly that the inches climb by halves of hours, or less. They drifted upon the windowpanes, and as the wind roared, the sides of the mansion braced themselves against the storm. Somewhere on the roof a loose shingle rattled, the sound barely distinguishable above the howling.

That was part of the oddity of that evening, the unusual storm. If one reads in volumes about the history of the old west, or of incidents in northern states like Alaska, or Maine, you'll invariably find references to storms like this one, great blizzards which lasted for days and tore roofs off of houses, but whether by fault of global warming or merely because we lived in an area not prone to such storms, our winters were usually rather mild, irregular months, in which snow fell sporadically, and under warm temperatures, only to melt in the rains which followed. Never did it come in a blizzard like this, and never accompanied by such ferocious winds.

Also odd was that thus far I was experiencing it alone, or mostly so. Our first New Year's holiday as a united family should have been spent all together, Dean's enormous house filled to bursting, with music constantly ringing from the stereo, warm fires crackling in all the fireplaces, tantalising scents wafting out of the kitchen, and lights brightly shining throughout the house, a great bastion of warmth against the storm. Under such circumstances, a great New Year's feast would have been served, half a dozen courses of delicacies spread over the long polished table that had been Grandma's wedding gift to Mother and Dean, and we'd have feasted happily, wine glasses in paw - Mother at one end, and Dean, my new stepfather, at the other, and spread around the sides of the table, myself and Angela, my fiancé; my younger brother Bronson, and his girlfriend Elaine, and Colton, my new stepbrother, with his girlfriend Lana, and possibly her twin sister Lila. Everyone enjoying the holidays, free from the stress of college and careers, if only for a week or two.

None of that had been meant to be, apparently, because here it was, only a few days past the 1st, and practically all of them were elsewhere. Angela's mother had roped her into going on a girls-only trip to Vegas, Mother and Dean were spending their belated honeymoon in the Keys, Bronson was off on a Tahoe skiing adventure with Elaine's family, and Lana & Lila had gone to Frisco on a post-holiday shopping spree. Which left just myself, and Colton.

Thus far I had not spent that much time with my stepbrother. He went to a different university, some preppy state outfit on the outskirts of Denver, and throughout Mother and Dean's rather speedy romance and engagement, he had been largely absent, remaining in Denver or traveling elsewhere on holidays, rather than returning home to the rustic luxury of his father's sprawling mansion of a residence. I hadn't met him until the last few months before the wedding, at which he'd been the Best Wolf, and we hadn't talked much in the interim. He'd mostly come across as a noisy, extraverted wolf, the kind who was the first to laugh at jokes, and who would lustily kiss his girlfriend, or her sister, or pull their tails, in front of everyone without caring who saw it. Introvert that I was, I supposed we did not have much in common, and I had never believed in that admonishment which states that opposites attract.

I don't recall where Colton was earlier in that evening, although I know he was there. His father's mansion was so large that a canid could lose himself in it quite easily, if he so desired. As a coyote who'd spent my youth dreaming enviously of the fantastic luxury enjoyed by the mega-rich, I was still, even then, awed by the grandeur of that mansion, with the high walls of polished logs and rock, tall log pillars supporting the veranda at the doors of the grand entry hall, the grand staircase with sweeping wings, and 15,000 square feet of bedrooms, parlours, studies, offices, pool rooms, and more. Under normal circumstances, Dean always had at least half a dozen servants (he insisted on calling them "staff") keeping the place clean and warm and welcoming, but in the giddiness of generosity which one may find in himself following his wedding and the holidays, he had given them all two weeks off, and none were due to return for a few more days. Thus I found myself scrounging the kitchen for Christmas leftovers, lighting a fire, and washing the dishes, things I had grown used to having done by others in the time since I had called my stepfather's house home. Following this came a shower among the tiled walls of my private bathroom, after which I slipped into an oversized T shirt and some Adidas track pants and retired to the library, for some reading before bed. A quiet end to a quiet day.

I had my muzzle thrust into the pages of a rather engrossing historical novel, a fire hissing in the open fireplace, the warmth in battle with the cold that seeped from the icy windowpanes, like dark holes in the tall walls of bookshelves. I had curled up on the leather sofa nearest the fire, which was doing a relatively decent job of heating the library, large room though it was, when I heard a creak to my left. My large coyote ears swivelled as my head turned, and I saw a dark shadow descending down the spiral stair which led to the catwalk on the library's second storey. Colton's golden eyes shown in the darkness.

"Mind if I join you?" his voice was soft and friendly, without his usual noisy enthusiasm.

I flicked my ears disconcertingly. "Not at all." I glanced at the book in his paw, wondering if I needed to say anything more. Like most introverts, I had always possessed a deep fear of small talk; especially with anyone I didn't know well, a category which at the time included my stepbrother. For some reason realising that made a jolt of guilt shoot through me - I should have made more of an effort to be friendly with him.

Colton didn't notice, or care, because he just nodded and sat on the opposite end of the sofa, legs crossed. He was wearing a hoodie of a dark colour, with the logo of his university on the front, and some athletic-type sweat pants below that. He opened his book, something small and paperbacked. I studied the way his black ears, so smaller than mine, were pricked forward at the book, the handsome muzzle bent down. Quite different, this new brother of mine. I wondered why I'd never imagined Mother marrying a wolf. It was perfectly reasonable for her to marry someone out of our species, now that she was past childbearing age - not that she would have wanted more children anyway. For that matter, she needn't even have married another canid - but I was glad she had. Introducing my stepdad the wolf was vastly more preferable than, say, my stepdad the weasel or rat - not that that would have mattered, though, as long as he treated Mother right. But there was no denying that Dean was handsome - Mother had always had a thing for wolves anyway - and his son had inherited that, and more. The firelight reflecting off the glossy black fur of Colton's forehead gave him almost an unearthly glow. I flicked my ears disapprovingly. So much for making a rule of not staring at people.

Golden eyes met mine. Caught. I glanced quickly back to my book, but Colton closed his, and laid it on the end table, not taking his eyes off of my face.

"So," he said, muzzle pointed towards me. "Family realignment makes for strange bedfellows, no?"

He's trying to be friendly, I thought. I wasn't the only one feeling guilty. "Yeah, I guess" I said stupidly. Why did conversations always come easier internally, or when I was writing?

Again, Colton didn't seem to mind. "Rika - your mom - was Dad's first girlfriend for a long time, you know. The first one I liked, too." So he's trying a different tactic. Ok, I could go with this.

"Your dad was Mother's first boyfriend after..." I paused. It was always this way, whenever "that man," as Mother referred to him, came up in conversation. Always the question of whether I should be open with the personal details of my biological father.

"After Troy" Colton stated, coming to the rescue again. "Dad told me some of the things Rika told him about...Troy." I silently thanked him for not saying "your dad."

"Dad had been alone too long" he went on. "I'd come home from college and he'd be moping around this house, or tinkering with things that didn't need tinkering. He just seemed bored, and his hobbies didn't interest him anymore." He flicked an ear, gazing into the fire. "I think it really began when I left for college."

"Mother never had time to get to that stage" I said carefully, still uncertain where this conversation was going, but feeling slightly more at ease. Without the audience that Bronson and all the girls provided giving him a chance to show off, Colton was surprisingly more down-to-earth that I'd taken him for.

His eyes met mine again. "Yeah, but I imagine that is because she was in a loveless relationship for so long." He paused. "With Dad, he never had time to prepare for loss, just....." His handsome face twisted in uncertainly. He's debating how much of his past he wants to tell me.

"Mom never should have married Dad. It's pretty obvious to me now, and probably to him too, but when you are young and foolish and think you'd found your one-and-only, it's like you've got cataracts over your eyes, as my granddad has. You just can't see. Dad thought he'd found a perfect young wife, and Mom just saw a chance to be rich, with opportunities to be famous as well. I think she probably thought that Dad could make her an actress, or a TV host, or something else to that end. She's always believed that money can buy anything, happiness most of all."

I regarded him with new interest. I could not have predicted that he would open up so clearly about his past.

"I was 10 when it happened. One day she was my mom, cooking dinner and grading homework and play-arguing with Dad over which movie to watch, and the next, she was a different person. I came home from school one day in April and she was gone. And not only her, but everything in the house that belonged to her. She'd taken everything." His golden eyes looked sad, and hurt. Common ground, though. I knew well the pain of an unloved child.

"Dad explained, later. Mother was bored with him, she said. She wanted more glamour, more spice, although I can't say whether she found it. I kept thinking she'd come home, because I knew she loved me and missed me. I rehearsed it every night in my head, waiting." He looked so sad I felt like hugging him, awkward though it would be.

"One day a letter came in the mail, from-" he made quote marks with two claws "Linda Connelly-Pitt. She'd gotten remarried, and hyphened her name, - her maiden name and her new husband's, not Dad's - and moved to Philadelphia. Her new husband was a tiger, some Philadelphia lawyer who liked to wear ugly grey suits and silly ties with elephants on them and drank diet sodas and ate Philly cheese steak and smoked cheap Cuban cigars and had a golf club membership. I memorised all those details, and repeated them in my mind, over and over, because I kept telling myself that Mom had chosen all that over me, and that she was the silly, foolish one, to have abandoned her son for that lawyer and his cheese steaks and cigars."

I opened my muzzle, wanting to say something. But what to say? It was one of those conversations where one person exists as listener only.

"After a while I got angry, angry at her for leaving me, and Dad, and angry at the lawyer for stealing her. There were two tigers at the private school I went to, both in the grade below mine, and one day I snapped and beat them up, just because seeing a tiger reminded me of that lawyer who stole my mom from me. After that Dad took me out of school for a while."

I finally found my voice. "Those kind of wounds heal with time" I said quietly. "After a while they stop hurting, or you stop caring, I don't know which."

Colton smiled sadly, the firelight glinting off a white fang. "Yes, but whenever the person who hurts you reaches back, however irregular that may be...."

"The pain comes back again" I finished softly.

Colton nodded. "Dad hid his pain from me...he thought that was better, I suppose. He started dating after a couple years, but I was always rude and unruly when his girlfriends were around, and after a while he stopped dating. He never blamed me, even when I was unspeakably rude....he said he blamed himself, for ignoring the signs with Mom, for not keeping her happier." He smiled that sad smile again. "I was angry at him too, for a while, but when I got into my mid-teens I began to realise I was lucky to have one parents who loved me enough for two."

There, another feeling I could share. "I never knew" I said, wanting to say something, but not knowing what. "Mother said that your dad had been married before, but....I didn't realise your mom had left you like that..."

Colton shrugged. "Yeah, most people just assume they got divorced cause they couldn't get along, like everyone else nowadays. It's hard to have faith in relationships anymore."

He looked so unlike the Colton I thought I knew, downcast and painfully honest. God, I thought. Underneath all that bravado he's just as fragile as I am.

He glanced at me ruefully then. "You know, Dad told me when I was much older that my grandpa had abandoned Mom in much the same way when she was young, back in the 60s when everyone was going crazy. Mom was only following in her father's pawprints, history repeating itself. It hit me one day in my European History class that the world has always been like that, societies and people making the same mistakes over and over again. How could I hate Mom, when she was just doing what came naturally for her?"

He's really far older mentally that he lets people think he is, I thought.

"You had a tough childhood too, though" he said, done reminiscing apparently.

"After hearing your story mine doesn't seem so bad, somehow," I responded, as those golden eyes met mine yet again.

Colton waved a paw dismissively. "All Dad said was that your Mom was divorced, rather recently."

I nodded. "Mother wouldn't have wanted to go too far into the past anyway, being that it is just that, the past. She'd been married to Troy for over 20 years, as it was."

Colton didn't say anything, giving me time to tell the story, I guess. Here goes, I thought. He spilled his guts, now it's my turn.

"I always knew my dad was different" I began. "Even when I was very young, before school even, he had started badmouthing my grandparents and Mother's sisters to me, telling me that Mother's family were bad, malevolent people, even portraying Mother as a grouchy bitch who was angry all the time. I was too innocent to realise he was out of line - pups take everything at face value, without looking behind the words, I guess."

Colton smiled encouragingly, so I went on. "Later, when I was in my teens, it began to become clear that his mind was elsewhere. He'd make comments about women all the time, 'oh, isn't that one hot' and so on. I told him that a married man shouldn't be thinking about other women, but he was full of excuses. He and Mother fought all the time, and she told me when I was 14 that she planned to leave him after Bronson was out of school, but of course, that was far away in the future. By the time I was ready to graduate high school, Troy was actively looking for a new life. He'd come home from business trips - when he worked at all, that is - with half-empty packages of condoms in his bag, and just laugh when Mother confronted him about it. He'd spend his off time going to strip bars, then come home and tell Mother she was fat. He never had a good thing to say about gay guys, but his computer was full of girl-on-girl videos." Colton's ears pricked at that, but I was so caught up in memories that I did not think on it till much afterward. "And this is the guy who would lecture on how much he hated hypocrites."

I paused, a little out of breath. Colton was looking downcast again, ears back. "Was he ever abusive?" he ventured warily.

I shook my head. "Not really, or not in that sense. When I was younger, he'd slap me or knock me down occasionally, if I displeased him, and the same for Bronson, but he never beat us, so to speak, and never raised a paw to Mother. It was always words with him. He threw words like daggers, usually at Mother, but sometimes at my brother and me, too. It wasn't until much later that Mother's counsellors told her that the things Troy said counted as verbal abuse, which is a true form of abuse." Strange, that, I reflected. Troy had used words like punches, to injure or disarm people, while I had studied to become a writer so that I could use words to bring stories to people, which might bring them happiness, if only momentarily. How different we were, indeed.

"But she left him eventually" Colton prompted. "And you were old enough to leave by that time anyway."

I nodded, glancing past him to the window, where the snow and wind howled loud as ever. "But not soon enough. I remember begging her to leave him, those last years in high school. When she did it seemed too good to be true....and then she met your Dad."

"And a fast romance that was" Colton grinned, fangs showing again. I followed his eyes to the plaque on the library wall, nestled among bookshelves, the centrepiece of which was an invitation inviting people to the wedding of Rika Lireux and Dean Broderick, alongside a photo of Mother looking elegant in her gown and Dean grinning his long lupine grin happily at the photographer.

I laughed, finding it hard to avoid smiling when Colton was doing so, his earlier sadness evaporated. "Yes, certainly. Very unlike Mother, but after she'd lived without love for so long, when romance presented, she threw herself at it with full force."

"And Dad was there to catch her" Colton finished. His tail thumped the sofa leather in a soft swishing sound.

"Thank god for that" I said, getting up to add another log to the fire, lest it die out. When I sat back down again, Colton had sat up a bit, and was pulling his hoodie over his head, arms stretched wide. I found my eyes drawn to him as the hoodie came off, dropped over the sofa arm, leaving some of the fur on Colton's head sticking up. My eyes were focused more on his chest, though....as I realised that my step-brother was even more attractive than I'd previously thought. I usually noticed attractive canid's appearance immediately - how had a missed this?

The young wolf's toned body clearly showed signs of someone who valued his appearance and took care to maintain it. It was obvious that he worked out, judging by the abdominals and biceps and pectorals that were slightly visible under the black fur. No one would have called him a body builder - but then again, I had never found unnaturally large bulging muscles attractive anyway; rather, Colton looked like someone who worked out at ordinary level to maintain looks and health, but not past that.

The fur of his chest was black, lacking the white bellyfur I knew Dean had, but it was a softer black, more matt and subtle, in contrast with the glossy black ebony of his back, head, and shoulders. His nipples, the skin also a soft black, rose slightly from the rounds of his pectorals, and I realised I was eyeing them more intently than I eyed my own fiancé's breasts, and was embarrassed. I looked up, and found golden eyes watching me.

I flushed, ears flattened, and looked away towards the fire, which was roaring merrily again.

The quiet endured for some seconds more before Colton asked quietly "When did you first discover that you were bisexual?"

He had phrased the question perfectly. He had not asked "why were you staring at my chest?!?", nor had he accused me of being a closet gay, with all the implications of lying to Angela that that accompanied. The question was kind and honest. I must have looked panicked anyway, though, because his ears fell back and he said quickly "It's ok, to tell me....I'm bi too, you know."

That_was_ a surprise. Colton acted so impeccably straight, with his chasing and kissing of girls, but then again, I believed that most people were truly bisexual by nature, and that hetro behaviour prevailed only because society decreed it be so. And besides which, I could never be accused of having very good gaydar anyway.

Colton didn't say anything more. He wants me to admit it, I realised.

"I was about 15 when I started noticing that I was attracted to other guys," I said finally. I had been completely honest about my parents, why not be honest here as well? "Although I realise now that I had been attracted to them before that....I thought when I was checking out the sizes of the bugles in guy's pants it was only because I was comparing them to my own...." My ears went flat again, in embarrassment, but I smirked too.

Colton chuckled softly. "I think a lot of us do that" he said. "You think you're only looking at other dudes' junk cause of all the stuff about comparing who's got the longer dick, but then one day you realise that you're actually interested in it for more than that. I was 14, myself, right around the time I finally let go of all the anger about Mom" he explained.

I grinned in spite of myself. Here I'd been worried Colton was judging me, and instead he was acting like it wasn't a big deal at all, only a minor detail, and one we shared on top of that.

"Did you go through the depression stage too?" I asked, sobering. This was the first time I'd ever discussed such emotions with another guy who'd experienced them - I'd shared some feelings with Angela and Bronson, but only someone who'd lived them could truly understand.

Colton shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. It was weird at first, when guys at school would talk about girls and I knew that I thought those thoughts and liked guys besides. But did I ever really feel guilty about it? No, not really." His ears flicked forward. "You?"

"It was really tough for a while" I signed. "You know, the typical 'oh I like boys, how can this be, everyone will hate me, I should kill myself' stage. I was going through that right when things were heating up between Mother and Troy, and I was constantly trying to deny that I liked guys, thinking it was something I could suppress."

"It was never like that for me" Colton said, alertly. "I embraced it almost. I didn't start dating till I was 16ish, but once that started, I dated girls and boys both, in equal numbers. I was never the rainbow flag type, never joined the LGBT pride group, but I didn't hide it either."

"Lots of boyfriends?" I asked. Then, for some reason I wasn't certain of, I pulled off my own T shirt, so that Colton and I both were bare-chested. Equals once more, or something.

He didn't acknowledge the move, thankfully. "Yeah, of the off and on sort. None of them lasted overly long - nor the girlfriends, for that matter - but they taught me a lot of stuff." His eyes met mine again. "You're probably a virgin, where guys are concerned?"

It was a personal question, but didn't seem to be meant in a negative way. "Yes, with guy, at least." I shrugged. "I've never had a boyfriend, so the opportunity never presented itself."

Colton grinned slyly. "Not so for me, I'm afraid. I don't want to sound like the guy who slept around with everyone, but my past boyfriends did teach me things that will help my future relationships, I have no doubt. No fumbling embarrassment for me."

I must have looked disapproving because he quickly followed that with "Don't worry, most of that was after I went off to college. I wasn't robbing the cradle, so to speak." He frowned. "Besides I don't really think high school kids, especially the younger ones, have the maturity to handle and understand relationships, especially those of a sexual nature. I guess it just seems easier for boys-who-like-boys because you don't have to worry about getting anyone pregnant."

"For me it was always just a matter of not wanting to share myself in that way with anyone unless I was in a committed relationship with them" I explained. "It's a physical manifestation of emotional love, more than anything else, and that didn't seem to have a place outside of relationships. That's why I kept my virginity until Angela and I got together. Also one of the reasons why I don't like porn."

Colton had pulled both of his legs up on the sofa and was leading against the arm, facing me now. He waved a paw. "Porn sucks for a lot of reasons, mainly because like you said, it's not real, so it's rehearsed and fake and that's too obvious. Besides if you pay attention you'll notice that it's completely cliché; wolves always on top, foxes always on bottom, coyotes top foxes but bottom for wolves. And so on. It's always predictable."

I nodded. "Besides which Mother got really into some feminist issues after dealing with Troy and his porn addiction, and she passed a lot of those ideas to me of it being really detrimental to women. Them just being used for men's pleasure and so on. Another negative. Although that doesn't apply to what you're talking about, which just has guys."

"Nope" he said, moving on. "So you got over your depression eventually? You admitted it easily enough now."

"Yeah, pretty much." I wondered if he had noticed my shirt-less chest, and then chided myself for thinking such thoughts. "The summer after I graduated from high school I started watching that new HBO show, The Historian, and after I realised I was crushing on Taylor Caldwell way more than on any of the actresses, I finally gave up fighting it."

Colton laughed at that. "Taylor Caldwell, that hot wolf?" He laughed again. "He could turn any dude gay, I'll bet." The bushy black tail was wagging again, and I could feel my own joining in.

"Probably" I agreed. "It was still really weird if I thought too much about how I was a boy who liked boys but eventually I let myself be about it, although doubt still came back every so often. Those were the days when Mother was crying all the time about her failed marriage, and Bronson was failing all his classes and doing pretty much whatever he wanted, and I had decided that we were going to end up like one of Shakespeare's tragedies, all destroyed by unfortunate circumstance and unavoidable fate."

"I guess I'm lucky I got that stage over early" he shook his head. "You really know how to make yourself feel bad, don't you?" His look was sympathetic.

I flicked my ears. "I don't know, Bronson always said it was because I listened to too much Florence + the Machine, and other darkly-themed alternative groups" I told him, smirking, an amazingly natural expression for a coyote. "Whether that was true I'll let you decide."

He laughed again, a high barking sound. "That's not as bad as what I did, though. Alternative is decent music, but when I was going through my rebellious stage, I listened only to the worse selection of emo-screamo available. Absolute crap, you can be sure." He grinned slyly. "I suspect the only reason I liked it so much was because I would play it on full blast whenever Dad brought over a girlfriend. They never stayed long after that."

"Good for you for chasing away the lesser women from your dad so Mother could get him" I said, still smirking. Colton had got up from the couch and stood by the fire, the flames glimmering on his ebony fur more than ever. "I've always thought screamo to be mainly loud noise and random screaming, though, so I'm glad your tastes have changed."

"Speaking of taste, I'm ready for one" he quipped. For a millisecond I thought he meant something sexual, but he headed for the door to the gallery which lies alongside the library, which I knew was where Dean's wine bar was located. He didn't want to lose book space in the library for it, apparently, and its location just outside is convenient for when he's hosting politicians or celebrities or CEOs and needs for one of the maids to bring a tray of drinks in quickly.

Colton had been gone barely a minute when he returned, bearing two narrow-stemmed wine glasses each containing pale liquid. He retook his spot on the sofa and handed me a glass, fangs exposed in a happy grin. "To stories on a winter's night" he toasted dramatically. "To a fabulous new year, to new beginnings, and-" He looked right into my eyes again, as if those golden eyes were piercing my soul. "To new friendships."

Our glasses clinked, but instead of the drink which should have followed, something entirely different happened.

Colton kissed me.

Or I kissed him.

Or we each kissed each other, I didn't know. All I knew was that suddenly our muzzles were together, my nostrils filled with the scent of healthy young wolf. The tips of our tongues touched ever so briefly, our heads turned in the classic kissing stance, and then we were both pulling back, each to our own end of the sofa, both wide eyed and suddenly uncertain of what we were doing.

For a few awkward moments we both looked away, unwilling to meet each other's eyes again, until Colton broke the silence with a question.

"So you accepted an attraction to males, but never acted on it?" He sipped his drink, waiting for an answer, and I sipped mine too. It was a good wine, with just the right balance of sweetness and bite to it.

I finally answered him with a simple answer: "Yes." Colton didn't respond to that, so I rushed on, wanting to end the awkward silence that had followed the kiss, or whatever it was.

"I wanted children - I still do - and that is something that requires a...female mate." A silly and obvious thing to say, indeed, but I was rushing. "Ever since I was, I don't know, six or seven years old, I wanted to have my own pups. And by my own pups, I mean my flesh and blood, my biological children. Not just one or two, but a big family, five or six or seven. Other boys were dreaming about being firemen or astronauts when they grew up and all I wanted was to be a dad....that was one of the reasons I decided to become a writer, because you can work from home."

Colton was looking interested, his composure regained, so I went on. "All my life I've focused on the idea that I would grow up and become a parent, that that was my life purpose, to raise some really great pups. It was never that I was going to do something great for the world, it was my children who mattered, who'd create world peace or cure cancer or walk on Mars, all because I raised them right, to be the best they could be. My purpose was to be the world's greatest father. If I chose a male lover, I would have to give up all that. Adoption is of no interest to me, since I want my own children, and when I researched surrogacy I learned that it costs near $30K per pregnancy, and that was without some of the expenses. I could never afford the big family I've longed for, not at that price. Especially when a husband and wife can...create, so to speak...a child with love, not with cash."

The sad smile had returned to the black wolf's face. "I guess I can kind of understand, then. If you are equally attracted to guys and girls, only dating girls because you want children sort of makes sense."

"Oh, I don't know about the equal part" I shrugged. "I was always more attracted to girls in an emotional sense, and more to guys in the sexual sense. I'd paw off thinking about hot guys like Taylor Caldwell but as soon as the orgasm had ebbed my mind would return to girls and my future wife and what a great life we'd have together."

"Do you.." Colton hesitated. "I'm going to ask something personal, and you don't have to answer if you don't want to. Do you still paw off thinking about guys, now that you're with Angela?"

The fact that I did not answer right away was answer enough.

Those black ears fell back again, and I felt my own matching them defensively. "Only on rare occasions during the first part of our relationship, before we started....sleeping together" I explained, tail twitching in agitation. "The interested-in-guys part is pushed back now, mostly. I never want to be like Troy, mentally cheating on my wife."

Colton still looked unconvinced. "I guess you're safe then...just don't make the mistake of getting yourself into a relationship, or marriage, that isn't really meant for you, or for Angela.....that's not fair to either of you."

It wasn't until later that I realised he was talking as much to himself as to me.

My tail twitched more. "I know," I said helplessly, ears flicking all over the place like they did when I was stressing. "I know that well enough. Its things like this that used to drive me crazy, being uncertain I could have a lasting emotional relationship with another dude, but likewise wondering what my girlfriend or wife would think about the little detail that climbing in bed with another guy turns me on way more than any female ever will."

"How much of this does Angela know?"

"She knows I'm bi - I told her that early on" I explained. "It's not the sort of thing you want to keep secret from your lover." Colton's ears flicked at the word "lover" but I ignored him. "Thing is though, she thinks I'm just straight-down-the-middle, 50/50 bisexual. I thought - I think - that it will work out alright like that."

Colton's lovely golden eyes were like deep golden pools of sadness. "Oh Colyn," he sighed, laying a strong black paw on my shoulder, "is that really for the best? You make a good effort of portraying yourself as the dedicated fiancé, very straight and in love, but will you ever be truly lovers in the truest sense?"

I tried to respond to that but he waved a paw to shush me and went on. "I don't mean to say that sex is everything in relationships, but would you deny yourself, or Angela, the passion of two people truly in love? The passion of lovers who leave trails of rosepetals to their honeymoon bed, who surprise each other with glasses of champagne, with kisses and caresses in the hottub, cuddling in front of a movie on a cold night, soaping each other up in the shower." His ears had fallen back, and stayed there. His sad expression made him look older, or perhaps wiser. "You may do those things in any relationship, I suppose, but without the attraction of passion, it will mean much less. Like living with your eyes closed."

I didn't want to admit how right he was.

"I decided when I was a teenager that my mom's abandoning of me was her choice, not any fault of mine, and that from then on, I would live my life to the fullest, for me, if for no one else." He gestured outwards at nothing in particular. "Look at how most people live - 9 to 5 job, followed by retirement, maybe a few vacations. You marry, or don't for whatever reason, and maybe have a kid or two. Maybe you get divorced. Work, be a good consumer, pay your taxes. And then you die, without ever having lived. I made the decision years ago to never deny myself anything, because I want to live. It's why I would never choose someone as my life partner unless we were lovers who loved fiercely and passionately."

There was so much truth in his words, and the completeness of how clearly this wolf had read me, mixed with his philosophy on life, left me feeling the same old trapped feeling of one who wants something he cannot have, screwed no matter what decision he makes in the end. I looked up unhappily, feeling like I might cry, and hating that - I had worked so hard to cure myself of that embarrassing release of emotion when I was a teenager. Eyes of golden amber met mine again.

We leaned closer.

I can't say who initiated that second kiss. It might have been Colton, but then again it could have been me. I was emotionally unstable enough at that point to have done many crazy things, I suppose - I had always felt that my family, and Mother and I, particularly, were prime examples of the old "all coyotes are half-mad" stereotype.

Whoever imitated it, we were kissing again, and stronger this time. His tongue slipped easily into my mouth, and found mine, and they wound about each other in that dance that romance writers write of. His mouth tasted of wine, mostly. I had always worried more about taste than anything else where kissing was concerned. When Angela and I had started dating I'd always chew gum before a date, in insure that no bad breath would spoil it. But here I found myself strangely free from worries, as if Colton was kissing them out of me.

After some seconds of tongue-dancing and muzzle-mashing we both pulled back slightly, nose-tip to nose-tip, eyes meeting. This was our last chance to back out, to deny that something else besides friendship had been exchanged on that winter's night.

We ignored that chance in favour of throwing ourselves at each other, in a kiss to end all kisses.

This time my arms went around his neck and his around my body, and we pulled each other close tightly as our tongues sought each other's mouths. I could feel his warm chest against mind, and the feeling of another strong torso, free of breasts, against mine was strangely thrilling.

I had never been made for women.

And neither had he.

We were clinging to each other fiercely, passionately, eyes closed and hearts open. It was like the climax scene of a romance movie, where the two main characters finally succumb to their attraction to each other, the kind of scene in which the camera will circle around and above the lovers, when the music reaches its highest chorus. My arms were clasped tightly around his neck, thick black fur beneath my claws, and he'd slid his paws down to my waist, holding me to him.

My tongue and his were snugly enwrapped, occasionally rubbing against a pearl-smooth fang, meeting again and again as we mouthed at each other's muzzles. Somewhere in the process of that¸ he snuck a claw under the waistband of my track pants, and tried to push them down. I sat up as best I could, sliding my own paws down to his waist. He was pulling my track pants down my legs, and I did the same with his sweatpants. My boxers followed, but to my surprise, and pleasure, he was wearing nothing under the sweatpants, nothing but soft black fur, that and his jewels.

Our garments slid to the floor, ignored and unneeded. We were still making out lustily, but my eyes opened and I dared a peek below, at the newly exposed lower regions of the wolf. Colton's sheath was long, just as wolf's should be, covered with the same matt-black of his chest. An inch or less of red jutted from the top. As we tumbled on the sofa the firelight glared off its shiny wet surface.

He wasn't erect. That was interesting, my mind rationalised, because it meant that like I, Colton was acting from emotional attraction, not purely from lust.

But this wasn't the time for trying to rationalise what we were doing. I actually wouldn't mind seeing more of that wolfcock, but that took my mind to my own, and for the tiniest second I worried: what if I got an erection? Then the absurdity of that concern overruled, and I continued to enjoy our make-out session, breathing in his scent like it was the most expensive Parisian perfume.

After some length we managed to pull apart, panting slightly. I could feel an inch or two of my cock had slipped from my sheath, and his had extended further as well. He met my eyes again, ears high and happy.

We both opened our muzzles, but the eccentricity of the moment was too much, and we both laughed, his deep wolf's bark and my high coyote's yip.

When the laughing was over, we had arranged ourselves differently from the way we'd sat prior to the kissing. This time we were on the same end of the sofa, I leaning against his warm chest, his arms around me, paws just a bit above my semi-swollen sheath. I could feel his hardness poking me around my tail, but ignored it, for the time being.

I finally found my voice. "Well, I guess I can always try polyamory" I shrugged. "Although I would feel bad asking two people to...share me, so to speak."

Our return to this serious subject failed to dampen Colton's spirits. I hear his tail trying to wag somewhere beneath us. "Oh, it's not for everyone, but for some folks it works just fine" he said.

My ears went up at that. "You sound like you've tried it."

"I have." He chuckled. "I'm pretty sure I've fucked Lila just as often as Lana."

"What?" I gasped. "How scandalous!"

Colton flicked his ears. "Maybe, but they started it, not me. Those twins think they're so clever because one can pretend to be the other, but I see right through it. If I ever proposed to one of them, I bet the other would be the one in the gown on the wedding day. And the twin who'd accompany me on the honeymoon would be a different one that the girl I'd married. It's all a game to them."

"Are you going to propose?" I asked seriously, as if we weren't two guys cuddling nude, who'd just been making out like high school pups at a prom.

The black ears flicked again. "I don't know, but probably not. I don't think I'm meant to marry a girl."

"I thought you said you were solidly bi?" I asked, eyeing him, which was hard end since his head was now above mine.

"Well....I did say that, but I'm finding that the older I get, the more I realise that I like being with a guy better - and not just cause you can have a good romp with one....it's way more than that."

"So what role do the twins play then?"

"They know. They think I'm a great catch because I'm fun in bed and to hang out with, and they think the idea of me messing around with other guys is thrilling, so I imagine I could probably marry one of them, if I wanted to, and she wouldn't care if I invited a different dude over every night, so long as she, and her sister, could watch." He grinned. "Lana and Lila aren't your average girls."

"Apparently not" I shook my head. "Do you want children?" My eyes glanced again at the wind - snow still falling. I shivered in response, but strangely, I felt warmer now, cuddling naked with Colton, than I had when my clothes were still on. Two's body heat makes more heat, obviously...but it was something more than that too.

He shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm not so picky about whether they are adopted, or my boyfriend's, or my own biological pups." He stood up, sliding me gentle back onto the sofa. "Looks like the fire needs another log again."

I watched as he walked over to the little iron rack that held more logs. The firelight, dimming though it was, was gleaming off his fur, everywhere, head and body and tail and legs.He's beautiful, I thought. His tail was swishing contentedly behind him, exposing his jewels, snuggly hung between his legs. My eyes followed as he bent to drop two logs on the fire. His tail lifted again as he bent down, and my eyes drew in the symmetry of his balls, and caught a quick glance of the shadowy darkness directly below his tail.

I felt my cock stiffen again in my sheath.

"Checking me out?" he grinned, turning around again.

"Oh of course," I shot back, matching his grin. "You're one hot wolf." It came out sounding like a joking reply, but I meant it. He was one hot wolf, and he had a wonderfully genuine personality too, when he wasn't hiding it under an overtalkative, noisy act. He hides behind his friendliness in the same way I hide behind my shyness,I thought. Both of us too afraid to be honest to the world.

"Like what you see?" he quipped, posing model-like in front of the fire, which was catching up again. "Want a taste?" An inch or more of red was still sticking from the opening in his sheath.

He might have meant it as a joke, but again, I answered honestly. "Sure, although there's another spot I'd like to taste more."

His eyes widened just for a moment, then he grinned. "Surprise, surprise, my coyote has a fetish. Colyn, you are one naughty coyote." He shook a claw at me.

My coyote. He called me my coyote. "If you can call that a fetish, I guess. I'm actually pretty vanilla so far as sexual fantasies go. Most fetishes gross me out."

"That's alright" he said, still standing in front of the fire, his shadow cast over the tiles. "I'm not really a fetish guy myself, either. One of my college boyfriends tried to get me into bondage, once, but it wasn't my cup of tea."

"Nor mine" I agreed, realising this is yet another thing we had in common.

Colton straightened up. "So..." his expression returned to one of uncertainty, tail twitching, ears posed half-up. "...do you actually...want a taste?"

He looked so cute in his uncertainty, but I knew there were greater implications beyond what we were considering. He wants it, I realised. He's just afraid to move on. He wants me to make the decision.

Like before, I threw caution to the howling wind. "Yes, I would" I replied softly, with an encouraging smile.

He looked relieved, but eager, and I could swear that the amount of shaft rising from his sheath doubled just from my "yes." He dropped to the floor.

The library fireplace was nestled among bookshelves. They rose on both sides, and also above the mantle, for the fireplace had been built into the wall, rather than being visible all the way up. It was an open hearth, and in front of it was a rectangular area of tile. It was on the edge of this tile that Colton dropped to, on paws and knees. I slid off the sofa, onto the cold hardwood floor.

"You haven't done this before, right?" he asked, as I crawled over behind him, his tail still hanging between his legs.

"Nope. It never had any appeal with a girl" I shrugged, sitting down behind his adorable ass.

He didn't respond to that, only lifted his plumy tail, slowly at first, then holding it high, over his back. My conscious made one last attempt to question what we were doing - what about Angela, what about Lana, what would Mother and Dean think of this. But we had gone too far already to stop now. I leaned in.

The fur around and under his tail smelled faintly of soap, kind of a limy-citrus scent. He'd probably just showered before he came downstairs. I slowly acquainted myself with his hind end, sniffing, and looking. His balls were bigger than I had thought before, appropriately for a wolf, but my real attention was drawn farther up, directly below his tail. The skin there was a very subtle black, like that of his nipples, and as I leaned in, my nose pressed against his hole, and I breathed in a new scent, strong and musky and so entirely male. It was tantalising, and so different than the scent of anyone I had sniffed closely before. I breathed it the same way that other guys breathed in the scents of females in heat, except that this scent was far more sexy and appealing, to me anyway, than any female's ever would be.

Encouraged by his arousing scent, I plastered a wet lick across the surface of his hole, catching a taste of his musk, similar in taste to scent. Colton made some sound in his throat, of surprise or of pleasure I wasn't sure, but I began a steady series of licks, tasting him more and more, and feeling my tail wagging steadily behind me. I could feel the heat of the fire on my exposed cock, for the act I was committing was arousing enough to leave me with a raging hard-on.

I was licking readily, head turned from side to side as I coated the tender skin with saliva and continued to breathe in his scent. Every so often he let out a low whine, not a moan, just a quiet acknowledgement that he was enjoying this as much as I was. This was further backed up by how his back begun to dip as he ever so slowly arched his butt up into my licks. I found that not only did I love this myself, but it was wonderful to think that Colton was getting so much good feeling out of this simple (or not so simple) act.

Presently I decided that it was time to go a step further. Pulling back from a lick, I thrust my muzzle up under Colton's tail, nose deep in the scent-rich fur on the underside of his tail, and pressed the tip of my tongue against his hole, just a gentle pressure. It didn't really take much to get his opening to relent and allow my tongue entry. I began to slide it inside.

I could hear Colton exhale very slowly as my tongue entered his passage, the breath coming out lengthy as my long coyote tongue felt deeper and deeper. I knew the pleasure that another male's cock could produce from entering this part of the body, why couldn't a tongue do the same? There were reasons why we canids had been blessed with long tongues.

After a few seconds I felt my lips press gently against his tailhole, my tongue entirely engulfed by Colton's rear. I'm kissing his ass, I thought, and had to choke back a giggle. The taste of him, male and musk and uniquely Colton, was all over my taste buds, sensory delight, and I rubbed around inside him, feeling for the tender areas which I was sure would just work to increase his enjoyment. Without previous experience in this area, I was operating mainly on instinct and from things I'd read on the internet, but I must have done something right, because after a few seconds of tongue-thrusting he suddenly let out a sharp wine. I started to pull back, thinking I'd done something wrong, but the way he pushed his butt back into my muzzle was answer enough otherwise. I continued to rub and thrust and lick, and the whining poured from his muzzle like water from a fountain. It was interesting, I thought, how the sensations of something like this could leave a big strong male like Colton writhing in ecstasy, made vulnerable by my tongue.

Finally he pulled away, glancing back at me with a sort of desperate longing expression, ears forward. "Colyn, I need....I want...there's something I'd like us to do, but I don't know if I should be the one to..." He frowned.

"Take my virginity? You're too late, I'm afraid." I put on my best coyote smirk.

He looked doubtful. "You said you'd never been with a guy before."

I grinned wider. "Yes, but that doesn't mean I haven't....I told Angela that I was turned on by the idea of bottoming, so we got one of those double-ended toys, and....well, she found out she liked being on top."

"You dirty coyote!" he accused, longing in his eyes. "Are you game then?"

"Of course!" I replied, tail waving back and forth. My cock had yet to lose the hardness it had gained when I was bathing Colton's hole, and I saw to my delight that he sported an erection of equal hardness, although longer and thicker due to the difference of species. At another time I might have asked to taste it too, but there was something else that we both wanted, and it couldn't wait.

Colton's grin was both sexy and cute, and he immediately shot off, running up the winding stair to the catwalk. I watched his balls jostle between his legs as he ran, tail going crazy, before the door clicked and he disappeared into the maze of hallways and bedrooms that made up the north wing of the mansion. I sat down on the tiles in front of the fire, feeling the warmth on my own sandy fur, and feeling rather giddy. I could still taste him on my tongue.

He must have ran at mock ten all the way to his suite, because scarcely a few minutes had passed before the door clicked again and he came bounding down the stair, a bottle of something in his hand, erect cock bouncing against his belly. I stood up to meet him and we embraced and kissed again. He stopped with a start, paused, then went back to kissing me. He's tasting himself on for the first time, I thought.

"Floor or sofa?" he asked, when we broke away from each other again.

"Floor, in front of the fire" I yipped, giving his hard shaft a squeeze. "That should make for some interesting shadows."

"This is true" he agreed, squirting some of the bottle's contents on his cock. "Alright, 'yote, get on all fours. Let's see that sexy ass."

I squirmed away from him as he tried to grab my tail and dropped to the tiles again, taking the position Colton had so recently held, on paws and knees. He had sank to his knees as well, his cock looking even shinier after being lubed up. "I'm going to lick you up just a bit" he cautioned.

Splendid, I thought. Now I'd get a chance to be on the end of a good tail-licking.

His tongue tickled at first, but in seconds I had gotten used to the feeling of warm wetness on my hole, and like Colton, I whined and pushed back into his licks, pushed back as he pressed his larger tongue into my opening, cried slightly as he felt around inside. I had no sooner gotten used to the intruding tongue when it disappeared, and Colton explained "That was just preparation, the main event comes next."

I lifted my wagging tail and felt coldness on my hole as he rubbed a generous amount of lube over and into my hole. I knew what was coming, and wanted it desperately, and he seemed to want it just as much. I felt a paw on my shoulder as he positioned.

"Let me know if I go too fast or anything" he warned me as I felt a pointed tip prod my tailhole. I let out a whine of need, surprising myself, as I was usually relatively quiet during bedroom antics.

"I will, don't worry" I assured him, wanting to get started. His strong paw on my shoulder felt strangely comforting.

He pressed slowly at first, spearing me open without much difficulty, thanks to his licking and the lube and that it had only been a few weeks since I had last enjoyed the toy. This was quite different than a toy though, because unlike the cold, artificial feel of the toy, Colton's cock was warm and alive and real in a way that no toy ever could replace. I breathed out slowly as he slid in, inch followed by slow inch. He was big, not enormous perhaps, but definitely big, bigger than anything I'd taken before. His gentle slowness dulled any discomfort, though.

It seemed like eternity before I felt the larger presence of his knot against my hole, and the wolf paused, as we each adjusted to the joining of our bodies. I felt so incredibly full, in a way of feeling that would be hard to describe to anyone who had not experienced it. Colton's chest rested heavily on my back, my ears pulled back to catch the sound of his soft panting. His other paw slid to my underside to grip my cock.

"Ready?" he panted, and I could imagine the grin on his face without actually seeing it.

"Always."

He pulled back then, still slowly, but faster than he'd gone it. It was strange and it was wonderful at the same time, and I wanted him to speed up. Then he was thrusting in again, and after that the thrusts were steady, fast and eager and driving. I braced my paws against the floor and closed my eyes, letting myself enjoy each thrust. He was holding my cock in a paw and rubbing up and down with a paw pad, stroking me in time with his thrusts. I wasn't sure which I liked more, the thrusts of his cock or the caressing of his paw-pads on mine.

The next thrust answered that for me, though, when suddenly my mine lost knowledge of anything save for a sudden explosion of pleasure inside me. Somewhere in me Colton had hit something, and I yelped loudly and pushed back hard into his thrusts. This is what I had read of, what I had tried to find with my tongue within Colton.

"Found that spot?" Colton queried, sounding pleased with himself. Then the next thrust reached that some spot again, and I stopped trying to control the whines and yelps and cries that came so naturally under these circumstances. Colton was deliberately aiming for that spot, I realised, and I helped him by pushing back with each thrust like a good bitch, helping him get good and deep each time. He seemed to be mostly quiet during lovemaking himself, although every so often he'd whine lowly, and his grip on my cock would get tighter, just for a moment.

My mind wasn't capable of comprehending much beyond the sensations by that point, although at one point, the words of a song I'd heard on the radio prior to Christmas popped into my head: What do I care how much it may storm? - I've got my love to keep me warm." My pleasure-high mind applied that in context to what we were doing and I laughed insanely at the ludicrousness of it all. Colton slowed his thrusts just a notch. "Are you all right?"

Now he's really going to think I'm insane, I thought, but I told him anyway and he laughed too, speeding up his humping again. "You coyotes really are crazy," he laughed, driving at that special spot again. "But in a good way."

I was too wrapped up in the experience of it all to reply to that, the music vanished from my mind as quickly as it had appeared.

Colton's tender paw pads on my cock were pushing me closer towards climax, and I was so worked up from his careful, steady thrusts that the pressure on my cock might not have been entirely necessary anyway. He must have known that, and close to his own release besides, because he increased the depth and speed of his humping, driving in fast and really pounding my ass in an attempt to get as deep within me as possible. Angela's and my play with the toy had been nothing compared to this; this was real, passionate lovemaking, the sort that only the truly lucky in love ever get to experience. I revelled in it.

Strange that not then, nor now, have I ever referred to what we were doing as fucking, or rutting, or other such terms. Even "having sex" seemed oddly inadequate to describe our coupling. No, there was only one way to define what was happening with Colton and I, and that was lovemaking. I could feel the love in the way he stroked my cock, in his steady paw on my shoulder, and in his thrusts, which while hard, were carefully aimed at the area most certainly to give me pleasure, for Colton was a top who cared for his lover's pleasure as much as his own.

He paused there briefly as we neared the climax. "It's ok if I knot you, right?" He was panting heavily.

"I wouldn't want it any other way" I breathed, not wanting to release just yet.

"I thought you'd say that" he answered softly, and then it began.

His thrusts were faster than ever, rapid and unrelenting. I pushed back like before, feeling that hard cock swiftly caress my insides, feeling his swelling knot as it attempted to enter me. Colton's paw on my cock was back and forth, speeding up in pair with his thrusts.

I gasped when his knot entered me.

It came in with a sharp soreness, a large object passing a narrower opening, and then a burst of amazing sensations as that hard knot lodged itself in my passage. The pressure against my prostate was more than ever, and as the knot had entered me Colton had given my own knot a hard squeeze. That had been the end of it, then, and I cried in ecstasy as my cock spasmed, and Colton joined me with a cry of his own as his cock spasmed too and climaxed within me. The hot liquid spurted over the floor and onto Colton's paw and I knew he was doing the same inside me and wanted it that way.

We didn't move for a few minutes afterwards, simply enjoying our orgasms and the completeness as our bodies were one. When my cock had relented to an irregular dripping and Colton's panting had waned a little, he asked softly "Do you want me to turn around?"

"It's not a proper tie unless we're butt-to-butt" I smirked.

"This is known" Colton agreed with a grin, and I felt a strange twisting as his cock turned within me. Of course, the rotation rubbed against my prostate again, and I whined and his paw became even more sticky. He let go of my cock them and I turned and watched him bring it to his muzzle and suckle on the wet fingers. "You taste fine" he said, grinning wolfishly, and I leaned back and kissed him, tasting myself on his lips. After that we were both quiet for a while, each on paws and knees, held butt to butt by his still-hard knot. Each panting calmly, tired, but happy.

It was during those quiet moments of togetherness that my mind finally comprehended what we had done. I had cheated on Angela. He had cheated on Lana, not that she would care, though. Mother and Dean would have been horrified, and disappointed. We'd broken what was to me a cardinal sin, unfaithfulness to one's mate. And yet we had done it innocently. Neither Colton or I had planned this turn of events, nor could we have foreseen what would happen. It had simply happened, almost as if we were being moved like chessmen, two characters in a greater drama, controlled by something greater than ourselves.

I had always believed that all things happened for a reason. Perhaps Colton and I were meant to be together. But what about my fiancé, his girlfriend, our parents; what about society and our dreams and my desires to be a parent? The emotion between Colton and I had seemed like much more than just a random attraction, it seemed like something real, perhaps realer than anything I'd felt before. And yet was love between us possible? The unanswerable questions brought lyrics of a very different song to mind:

If all love is tragedy why are you my remedy?

If all love is insanity why are you my clarity?

But what was worse, I thought, to disappoint our family and loved ones, or to do what would make Colton and I truly happy? Too many of those in love were kept apart for the wrong reasons as it was.

After a while I heard a squelch and felt his softening hardness slip from my rear, leaving me feeling oddly empty. For a second or two we didn't move, and then we clasped our arms around each other, kissed, and just held each other, sitting there on the floor of his father's library, in front of the fire, words not necessary. We held each other tightly, as if to prevent anyone from tearing us away from each other, as if we lovers reunited after a long time apart. I stopped worrying, and focused my senses on him, on the wonderful wolf in my arms.

Sometime later he pulled back and looked me in the eyes as he had done so many times before that night. His expression was one of worry, or concern, or the look of someone who has just discovered something far greater than himself. The black ears were laid back.

"Colyn," he said, eyes wide. "I love you." His voice was soft and honest.

I could have disagreed with him. I could have told him that no one falls in love after only one evening, I could have scoured him with reasons why our love could never be, I could have pulled away and ended it there, saving us both from whatever pain and disharmony might follow. I could have chosen the easy way out.

But I didn't.

Instead I just said "I know" softly, and pulled his black head to my chest and held him. And after that there was no going back.