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Mace sat down on the couch next to Rock, his big, powerful body making the cushions sink in. Rock's apartment was small, but it worked just fine for them. When his roommate was out, he and Rock would drink, watch movies, and generally do whatever they wanted.

The tiger leaned back, stretching his muscled arms along the back of the couch, one hand behind his wolven friend shoulder. Such casual touch for them was common and usually went unnoticed.

They were discussing the possibility of getting a dorm together at college.

Turning to the wolf, Mace said, "So, you really think we could be roommates?"

Rock nodded. "Yeah, buddy! It'd be great. We could share a room."

Being every bit as wide as Mace, he took up the other half of the couch with his broad shoulders and muscular frame. He was wearing a loose T-shirt which had grass stains from all the times they'd played football in the front lawn of Mace's house, and outside school. He was holding his favorite football in his lap, occasionally tossing it in the air and catching it in his big hands.

Mace grinned. "You could wear most of my clothes, y'know. You're about my size."

Rock laughed. "Like I don't already?"

He was a dark-furred wolf and tended to intimidate people with his imposing posture, but when he laughed, he looked friendly and almost playful. He was right in what he said, too; half the time he wasn't sure whether he was wearing his own shirt, or one of Mace's.

"What about girls," the tiger asked him.

Rock caught the football and held it. "Huh?"

"I mean, if I wanna bring a girl home," Mace specified. He has a mischievous gleam in his eye. Mace wasn't the kind of guy to get good grades, but he was intelligent and crafty when something caught his interest.

"No problem," Rock said, more seriously. He stopped tossing the football, and he let it rest between his legs. "If I'm there, I can watch. Or if I bring a girl home, you can watch me. Haven't you ever wanted to see me banging a bitch?"

Mace didn't reply, but he grinned.

Rock leaned back, tilting his hips outward, spreading his legs out until his knee touched Mace's. He groaned softly. "Aww yeah, think of it, man, if we both brought home some honeys, we could be fuckin' them in the same room." He grabbed the football and moved it up and down, using it to gesture holding a girls hips while she rode him.

Mace leaned back as well now, not attempting to hide the bulge in his jeans. In contrary, he rubbed it a few times, to show Rock he understood. "That'd be hot."

They sat there for a while, legs spread out the way guys will do, with their legs touching, neither moving his away. Mace reached over to grab the football away from Rock -- they did this commonly as well -- and his hand came to rest on the wolf's.

They looked at one another, and their eyes met.

"Ever think about sharing?" Rock said evenly. "Both of us at the same time."

Mace was still leaning over toward Rock, and he didn't withdraw his hand. "With you I would. How about you?"

"Yeah," Rock told him. He moved closer. "You're my best friend. You're like the bro I never fuckin' had. I'd share anything with you."

They had shifted on the couch, and now they were facing one another. Mace let his hand fall away from the wolf's, but they remained so close, only inches apart.

Mace turned to face him as well. "Anything? Like spit?"

Their voices had lowered to hushed tones.

"Huh?"

"When we kissed at the party a couple months ago. Remember?"

Rock nodded, and he smiled a little. "Yeah. It was fun... I didn't mind sharing that with you."

They were sharing their air now, pleasantly flavored breathing into each other's mouths as they spoke. "What if you had to do it again? Would you?"

"Of course," Rock said. "It..."

"...it felt good, didn't it?"

"Yeah." Their eyes were locked, showing a great emotion between them. It was so uncharacteristic to them.

There was a long silence between them. They just looked at one another. Rock, realizing their closeness, the emotion between them, grinned uncertainly. "This is... I'm kinda scared."

He'd never said those words before in his life.

"Don't be afraid," Mace whispered. "I love you, bro."

And then there was soft, moist smoothness of lips gliding on lips and shared breathing, like their emotions, very deep and slow-building. Kissing at first gently and exploring, but then more confident, more full of desire.

'I want this,' they said silently to one another, without words, with the language of touch.

Their limbs entwined on the couch, Mace laying on Rock as they kissed, as they had at the party, but now more tenderly, the first time for either of them to attain such a feeling of physical expression. When they were with girls, it was for the thrill, for the fuck of it, quite literally. This was totally different.

There was only their arms around one another, the softness of the couch and inviting muscle, shared warmth and the rustling of clothes, and the soft wet click of lips pulling on lips. Then, as they kissed more deeply, even this faded out.

Rock arched his chest out as Mace slid his arms beneath the wolf, and they embraced tightly, squeezing a bit. There was no audience, there was no dare, and no game. This was just two males, moving past friendship, finding love and lust in one another.

After what seemed like hours, but was probably only about half, they pulled back from one another. Mace sat up, panting.

Rock stood, with his eyes half-closed. Mace joined him, and slowly they pressed together, bodies tight, Mace's left leg between Rock's.

Their macho traits began to resurface, but even then they didn't pull away from one another; the feeling of closeness was simply too intense for them to deny.

"What the fuck are we supposed to do, bro?" Rock asked.

Mace shrugged. "It's not like we haven't done it before," he said.

"But this is different," Rock said, rubbing Mace's shoulder, then letting his hand rest there.

"Fuckin' A," the tiger agreed.

They smiled at each other with a new tenderness that was never there before. Or maybe it was, maybe it was just there in a different way. After all, when Mace got hurt in the game three months ago, and Rock stayed with him the whole time he recovered, wasn't that a kind of tenderness? Or when Rock's girlfriend had cheated on him with another guy, and Mace had taken him out to slash the guy's tires, wasn't that, in some language, a way of telling him he cared?

Now these signs were long past, and they showed their affection in a more direct way. This had been building between them for a long time. But neither of them expected it to happen that day, or in that way.

"So... does this mean you like guys?" Rock asked.

"It means I like you. Do you like guys?"

"No... I guess I see what you mean. I like you."

"It doesn't change anything. I'm the same guy I was yesterday. So are you."

And there it was.

Rock nodded. "You wanna watch a movie?"

Mace grinned. "Yeah."

Their story is not finished.