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The Lucky Horseshoe Tavern was a cozy neighborhood kind of place, tucked between the state college and the downtown towers. Just one room full of dark wood and assorted Old West decor: hats, cattle, cacti, faded photographs of cowboys holding hands as they gazed into each other's eyes. But a handful of tables, a short food menu, and a wide selection of local brews had kept them in business for over a decade.

With his tight faded jeans and scarlet bandanna, Okie fit right in—even before accounting for his being a coyote. He'd been working the bar alone all afternoon, picking up extra shifts over spring break, but he hardly minded that. The rowdy students were gone, charming the socks off patrons was fun, and the extra tips were absolutely nothing to sneeze at. His main worry at the moment was about his coworker, because the after-work rush was about to start and Laiza should have already shown up fifteen minutes ago.

Still, he drew his mouth into a smile as he turned back to the customers he was cashing out, a couple of female caribou in scrubs who probably worked at a nearby hospital. He slapped their receipt down on the bar.

"Thanks for coming by!" he said cheerfully, while making finger guns at them. "Don't be strangers, now!" One of them snorted, her mouth momentarily quirking into a grin, while the one leaning over to sign the receipt just rolled her eyes. Whatever. Okie still gave them a little tail shimmy as he turned to stick the receipt into the till, then grinned as he saw their eyes widen in the bar mirror.

He was so glad he'd nagged Bastian into getting that weight set for their apartment. His ass now looked amazing.

He poked briefly into the kitchen to ask if Laiza had called, but Gabe just shook his head and went back to scowling at the eight orders of calamari he was making for that table of otters. So Okie grabbed a dish tub and went back out to clear off the caribou's table. He'd just finished wiping it down when he heard the front door open and looked up, hoping to see his tardy coworker finally rushing in.

But it wasn't Laiza. It was a lioness in her 30s, dressed like a very professional businesswoman. A very professional and very successful businesswoman, to judge from the patterned gold bangles on her wrists and the designer shoes on her feet, and Okie immediately started smiling as he calculated what he might convince her to tip. At least, until he caught sight of the tall charcoal-gray wolf who followed her in.

Ezekiel Sawyer had changed since high school. Filled out a lot. Traded his backwards cap and tanktop for a dress shirt and tie. Finally seen a competent fur stylist. But his face was still unmistakable, from the tip of his wide muzzle up to the mark on his ear where his baby sister had once bit him.

Okie froze, his lips pulling back into a snarl as anger washed out his thoughts. How dare this asshole show his face? After what he did to Bastian? Zeke deserved to be kicked screaming into a volcano, and Okie would gladly be the one to do it.

But after a moment contemplating fiery vengeance, Okie took a deep breath and pushed it all aside. He couldn't do this here. He was at work. Anything so unsubtle as punching the wolf in the nuts was temporarily out of the question. So he carefully smoothed his expression back to neutral and opened his eyes.

The pair had walked up to the bar, where Zeke pulled a chair out for the lioness with a roguish grin. She merely arched an eyebrow as she hung her purse over the back and sat down. Zeke took the seat next to her and then began peering around for the bartender, apparently either not noticing Okie or just writing him off.

Okie gritted his teeth. Fine then. He could pretend not to know Zeke either. He stashed the dish tub, pasted a bright smile on his face and walked behind the bar to run through his standard greeting.

"Heya folks! Welcome to the Lucky Horseshoe!" He spun a coaster across the bar for each of them, then tipped an imaginary hat. "Call me Okie! Menu's up on the wall. Whatcha all drinkin' tonight?"

The lioness raised an eyebrow as a corner of her mouth quirked up. Zeke barely gave him a look, focused instead on his companion.

Jerk. Unless the wolf really didn't recognize him?

Zeke tapped a claw on the coaster. "Old fashioned," he said.

"Got it." Okie turned to the lioness. "And for your boss here?"

The wolf growled at him. "She's not my—"

The lioness snorted a laugh. "I'll have the same, please," she said, smiling.

Zeke left off his glowering to give the lioness a puzzled look. "Wait, since when do you drink whiskey?" he asked.

She smirked back mischievously. "What, do you think no one overheard you claiming girls can't drink? I know liquor better than any of you sales guys do." She turned to Okie and gestured toward the shelves of bottles. "Make them with that Red Iron rye I see up there, please. I like them traditional," she said, then tilted her head toward Zeke. "We'll see if he can handle the real thing."

Okie grinned back at her. "Okie-dokie artichokie! Two rye old fashioneds, coming right up. Made special just for the boss." He gave her a wink, then turned around to prepare the drinks with just a little tail shimmy.

In the mirror he saw the lioness smirk again, while Zeke just stared.

After making the drinks—and successfully not spitting in Zeke's—Okie brought them over to find the pair chatting amiably. Zeke's excessively charming smile looked fake to Okie but apparently it worked fine on the lioness, since she was smiling too and hardly even looking at her phone.

Okie set the tumblers down on the bar. "Here ya go! You folks opening a tab? We can run your cards now or later."

The lioness reached back and opened her purse, but Zeke stopped her and pulled out his wallet. "No, no, I got it," he said, flashing her another grin. "As thanks for your help closing the deal." He whipped out a platinum credit card and presented it to Okie with a flourish, flashing a gold-garnet ring and an expensive-looking wristwatch. "I'll cover everything tonight. Just put it all on the card."

"Okie dokie! Be back with this in a jiffy!" Okie plucked the credit card lightly out of the wolf's paw and went to enter the drinks in the till. Just as he finished, a movement in the mirror caught his eye. He looked up to see Zeke and the lioness making a toast to something, the wolf leaning way in to stare into his companion's eyes, one elbow propped on the bar. Until his elbow slipped and he knocked the lioness's phone to the floor.

Okie furrowed his brow. That had looked odd somehow. As he surreptitiously kept watching, he saw the lioness drop to the floor to grope after her phone—and Zeke quickly pull out a small bottle, pour the contents into her drink, and tuck it away again.

Okie sighed. He probably should have been expecting this. What a waste of good whiskey.

He turned to retrieve the tainted drink—but a half-second later saw the purse strap slip off the lioness's chair. There was a crash, and the sound of scattering coins, and then Zeke dropped to the floor as well as they both scrambled after them.

Okie paused, struck with an idea. He casually stepped over to where the pair had been sitting. Considered the two apparently-identical drinks. And then swapped them.

He left the credit card by Zeke's new glass and went to attend to other patrons, his tail wagging for the first time since the wolf had passed the threshhold.

The after-work rush was starting in earnest now, and the coyote could only spare a few glances for the pair between making drinks or taking orders or clearing tables. But they seemed to be having a good enough time—at least until he spotted Zeke leaning in close, staring intently, speaking steadily at the lioness whose expression turned from confused, to repulsed, to angry, before she finally slapped him across the face and stalked out of the bar.

Okie barked a laugh. He'd been right about the lioness. She was definitely the best tipper of the night.

When he went to collect her glass a few minutes later, he found it still half full. He glanced over at Zeke, scowling and brooding and showing no signs of leaving, and then back at the abandoned drink. Shrugged. Then picked up the glass and drained it, the alcohol burning down his throat. No sense wasting good whiskey, after all. And he'd need something to make dealing with Zeke all night bearable.

He pasted a sugary smile on his face and turned to Zeke to find the wolf already watching him closely.

"Aww, sorry about that, pardner," the coyote cooed, voice dripping false sympathy. "Looks like you struck out."

The wolf hmmed as he slowly looked Okie up and down, his ears and eyes intent but still somehow glazed looking. Then he smiled slightly.

"For now," he said, then tapped a claw on his empty glass. "Another of these, if you would."

"You betcha. You just sit yerself there a minute," Okie said, and breezed off.

It was rather longer than a minute before he got back, though. Since Gabe shouted from the kitchen for him to take a managerial phone call from Eva, who told him that Laiza wouldn't be showing up at all and that he'd be running the front solo. Thank Dog it was only Tuesday. And that he'd managed to convince her to come in and close herself rather than sticking him with an extra half-shift on top of everything.

By the time he brought Zeke a second round, the wolf was leaning on the bar and staring into space. His mouth hung open in a slight pant; his tie was discarded and sleeves rolled up despite the chill wind that blew in whenever someone opened the door.

Okie plonked the full tumbler down and immediately the wolf's ears perked up. He took a sip, frowned, then put the glass down and looked around.

"So," he said, "This a normal night here? Seems like you're always rushing around. Hardly have time to relax."

"Oh, not normal at all!" Okie said, simpering melodramatically. "Ever since you walked in it's looking to be quite the memorable evening indeed!"

"Really?" Zeke gave him a cocky grin as he leaned forward and crossed his arms on the bar. "You think I'm memorable?"

Okie checked him out, of course. Zeke had grown into a tall, broad-shouldered hunk, and Okie wasn't made of stone. Plus the wolf was showing off some very nice arms, with all the places where his shirt was stretched tight across bicep or chest...

Zeke's grin slipped into a leer as he watched the coyote's reaction. "You know," he said, "You could come back with me after your shift. Take some time to relax." His stare turned intent as his voice slipped into a measured cadence. "In fact, I bet you feel a wave of relaxation swelling up right now. Like walking into a warm ocean. Starting with your feet, relaxing, rising through your legs, pulling you—"

Okie abruptly burst into laughter. Zeke drew back, nonplussed.

"You idiot," Okie said, a maniacal coyote grin on his face. "Who do you think taught you that script?"

Zeke's ears drooped as his jaw dropped. "Um. What?"

Okie leaned in close to stare into the wolf's eyes, pitching his voice to the same calm-intense tone Zeke had tried to use earlier. "You're confused," he said. "But it's okay. Just relax. There's a wave of sleep washing over you, like walking into a warm ocean. Step by step. You step forward and the water covers your feet. You step again and the water rises up your legs, loosening and soothing, to your belly, to your back, the water dissolves tension into warmth."

Zeke's eyes widened in alarm and recognition. But between whatever he'd drunk and the many times he'd heard this same script, he couldn't resist and his expression soon glazed over again.

"You step again and the water rises further, over your chest, and over your arms, and your shoulders, and up your neck. You feel your body start to dissolve, floating away. You take a final step and the water rises above your head, dissolving your thoughts, dissolving your feelings. Your mind is drifting away, washing away. You become only a quiet emptiness, ready and open for my words. In three." Okie held a finger up in front of the wolf's face, moving it in and out as he counted down. "Two. One. Now." He tapped the wolf's nose lightly.

Zeke was completely motionless now, his gaze unfocused and ears relaxed.

"Well then. Do you recognize me now?" Okie asked.

"Yes, sir," the wolf replied, his voice a monotone. Behind him, his tail started wagging.

"Will you follow my instructions?"

"Yes, sir." The wolf's ears perked up as his wagging increased.

Okie raised his brows. That was odd—he hadn't been expecting enthusiasm. "Good boy," he said, then thought for a moment. "Tell me what you poured into that drink earlier."

Zeke's ears drooped. "I don't know, sir," he droned. "I got it from Marvin. He said it was something special that made you get drunk quicker. It smelled like just vodka though."

Given Zeke's current state, Okie had his doubts that was all it was. But it probably didn't matter now.

"Very well. You will be a good boy for me, won't you? You will do as I direct. You will answer any question I ask without lying or concealing." Okie paused, considering what he should even do with Zeke. Dancer? Garden gnome? Then a large group of new customers piled in through the door—and he found he had the perfect thing for it right here.

He grinned at the wolf. "You want to help me here at the bar. You will regard it as a favor owed to... an old friend. When I clap my hands you will return to your normal self, obeying these commands but remembering nothing of them. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Zeke's tail started waving crazily again as a drop of drool fell from his open mouth into the tumbler.

"Good boy. You will wake in three, two, one..." Okie clapped his hands.

Zeke's mouth snapped shut. He blinked, then twitched his head like he was shaking off water. After a moment he looked up at Okie.

"Hey, so. What do you need me to do?"

Okie pointed toward the kitchen door. "Go put on an apron. They're inside to the left. The hot pink one will fit you, I think," he said, smirking. "Then grab a tub and go collect all the empty glasses and dishware."

Zeke nodded, then stood up. "Got it. Leave it to me!" He banged his chest with a fist, then strode off toward the kitchen, tail waving behind him.

Okie giggled. And then cackled, until the weird looks from patrons forced him to stop.

= = = = = = = = = =

Sebastian Oak Underhill woke up under the fluorescent lights of the storage-slash-break room in the back of the Lucky Horseshoe Tavern, staring at his own tan-furred face in a hand mirror propped up on a shelf.

He sighed and stashed the mirror in his bag. Then he started peeling himself out of Okie's work outfit: the heeled boots, the too-tight jeans, the piece of neon-blue cloth that covered just enough fur to be legally a "shirt". He had no idea how his annoyingly chunky body fit into any of it, but Okie seemed to manage somehow. At least the earrings were small ones this time. He still wasn't sure how Okie had convinced him to get his ears pierced at all.

As he changed into his normal outfit of hoodie and comfortably loose jeans, his mind wandered to what he would do when he got home. He really wanted to just relax, to sit on the couch and mindlessly flip through Furtube videos for an hour. But on the other hand, he should really get ahead on his class reading—even if he was only a part-time student now, the job didn't leave much free time. Plus it already looked like he'd get stuck doing most of the work for his group projects. He sighed. He'd work tonight, but promised himself he'd spend an entire week over summer break just zoning out.

Of course, those plans only lasted until he checked his phone and found a message from Okie.

Okie: Hey dude! I got you a present!! Really think you'll like this one. He's waiting for you out front. And don't worry, I made sure he's clean. Y'know, just in case you want to have some fun for once??? Enjoy playing Sebastian Says!!

Bastian groaned. He knew exactly what this was. Okie was an inveterate matchmaker, and this was hardly the first time in their five years that he'd tried to set Bastian up on a date. He meant well, really. He just didn't realize that it was basically impossible. Talking to strangers tended to make Bastian tongue-tied; trying to talk to attractive strangers was just hopeless. Plus most of them showed up expecting Okie, and then were disappointed when they got Bastian instead. Still, he put up with it. The one time he'd tried to force Okie to stop, the jerk responded by going to a college party, somehow getting three drunk football bros to all proposition him at the same time, and then bailing and dumping it all on Bastian. Who fled the resulting fistfight, and who still refused to walk past the athletics fields just in case he runs into one of them again.

He'd just have to endure this one until the guy gave up, like they always did eventually. It shouldn't take that long. Unless Okie's set some trick with this one—Bastian wasn't really sure what that part about "Sebastian Says" was about.

Bastian gathered up his bags and walked back out through the main bar, exchanging a small wave with the cook and the manager as he passed. Their names were... Gabriel and Evhena? Sebastian wasn't really sure, since he'd never met them. Okie had somehow arranged it so that nobody tried to talk to him off the clock—a good thing, since it would be difficult to hide how he remembered absolutely nothing about the job.

Bastian pushed open the front door and stepped out onto the street. Where it took roughly two seconds to spot the wolf slouching against the lamppost.

Bastian froze. Zeke was absolutely the last person he wanted to see. The asshole jock who used and betrayed him junior year of high school. Just looking at him Bastian felt a fountain of sadness and anger well up in his chest. Not fear though—no point in worrying someone will hurt you when they've already long since taken their shot.

Zeke uncurled himself and strode over with a cocky wolf grin. "Yo! Good to see you, man." He held out a hand. "It's been—"

"Stop." Bastian glared and flung up an arm, knocking Zeke's hand aside. "No. Wait here. Do NOT follow me."

He spun around and stalked back into the bar without waiting for the wolf's reaction. Then he made a beeline for the restroom, locked the door behind him, and stood to face himself in the mirror. A disheveled coyote stared back at him, ears flat and eyes brimming with water.

He wiped his eyes and then took a handful of deep, slow breaths. He needed to be calm for this to work.

"You see a pool of water," he said to his reflection. "You are looking into the pool. You see yourself in the water. Looking out and looking in." Bastian felt his chest relax as he fell into the cadence of the words. "You are calm, you are confident, you are charismatic and clever. You are calm, you are smooth, you are friends with everyone. You are calm, you are hap—"

The mirror coyote's ears suddenly perked up as his mouth shifted from a scowl to a sly grin. He raised a finger in front of his face, then silently mouthed "Three, two, one, boop" as he brought it in and out and finally landed it on his nose. Then he winked and stuck out his tongue.

Abruptly, Bastian was looking at himself in the mirror with his tongue hanging in the air. He scowled. Okie got him into this mess, but was clearly unwilling to get him out of it. At least that "Sebastian Says" comment made sense now: Okie zapped Zeke, and then gave Bastian a key. Although he might have left other commands as well.

This was so frustrating. What was Bastian supposed to do with this? How did Okie even find Zeke?

But, really, did it matter? He could deal with it the same way as everybody Okie threw at him: endure it until he could figure out how to bail out and go home. He spent another minute or so in the restroom building up his determination, then stomped back out to the street.

The wolf was still standing exactly where Bastian had left him, and the coyote squashed down another bit of sadness at seeing him again.

"Hey, are you okay?" Zeke asked, head tilting. "I can—"

"Sebastian Says, tell me all the commands you are under right now," Bastian snapped.

The wolf immediately froze, eyes going vague as he spoke in an unnaturally calm voice.

"Don't lie to you. Stay with you all night. Bring you to my hotel room if I can. Forget everything from tonight and go back to normal when I wake up tomorrow. Tell you all the commands I am under right now."

Bastian scowled. What the hell was Okie thinking? At least there was no command for outright seduction—that one to stay together all night was bad enough.

Zeke blinked a couple times, the confident smile returning to his face. "Hey, so do you want to—"

"Sebastian Says, forget all your commands."

The wolf froze again. "I can't do that without the password," he droned.

Bastian growled in frustration. Of course it wouldn't be easy. And he couldn't just do a full reset on the wolf since he couldn't make inductions work on his own anymore. Dammit, Okie.

He sighed. "Zeke, why the hell are you even here?"

Zeke twitched his ears and blinked, looking disoriented. "Dude," he said, "I don't know what's going on. I didn't even know you had a twin brother but then I found him working here, and he said you'd be by later so I should wait? So I did?"

"No, I mean why are you here. In this city. You don't live here."

Zeke immediately perked up. "Oh! I do sales for my uncle's drug company," he said. "Came here with a chick from legal to do a deal with one of the research hospitals. It's a great gig." His smile turned coaxing as he continued. "You gotta come back to my hotel and I'll tell you all about it! We can catch up! And you really gotta see this place the company got us—it's super swanky. Only a few blocks from here! Come on!"

Bastian sighed, but gestured for Zeke to lead the way. They were stuck together for now, at least—given Okie's commands it could get messy if he tried to walk off right now. When they got to the hotel he'd just command Zeke to sleep and then go home.

And so they walked. And Zeke chattered. But he was still just treating Bastian like nothing had happened, like they were just friends who fell out of touch. And Bastian found it strange and disorienting because at the same time buried memories were playing through his head. Dozens of hours spent with Zeke across every week of the coyote's junior year. Usually they were studying, with Bastian making sure his assigned lab partner didn't fail Chemistry again and could actually graduate in the Spring. That had been a hopeless task at first, every fact and formula immediately falling out of the wolf's shaggy head. At least until Bastian had turned his own studying trick—self-hypnosis—on Zeke, and found that it worked even better on the wolf than it did on him.

It hadn't all been studying though. Sometimes they'd just hung out and talked, despite that a serious nerd and a gregarious soccer bro should have nothing in common. Bastian went to a few soccer games. Zeke got his ass kicked in a few video games.

Bastian was willing to admit he'd had a crush. Despite Zeke's series of popular-girl flings making it crystal-clear what his type was. Despite Bastian's efforts to kill it off and just act cool. Maybe that was why when Zeke asked him to meet after the last game of the year because he had something to give him, Bastian had stayed sitting in the stands. After the teams had walked off. After the grounds had been locked up. Alone. Until sunset had finally forced him to trudge home.

Zeke never answered any of his messages. Zeke ignored him in their final class together. Confronted in the hallway afterwards, he had scoffed at the idea that they might be friends. Thanked Bastian for the help and told him to go fuck off now that they were done. His teammates could hardly suppress their laughter. Even six years later, Bastian could still hear them.

And Zeke was still chattering as they walked. Boasting about his conquests in the bedroom and the boardroom. Dropping names like Bastian should recognize them. Slathering on that roguish charm. It was nothing new, really. Just the same sport on a different field. Though one thing at least was shocking.

"Wait," Bastian interrupted, his lip curling in disgust. "Seriously? You trick girls into getting drunk and then hypnotize them into sleeping with you??"

Zeke stopped. His ears tipped back as he drew himself up, looking offended.

"The fuck?" he said. "You think somebody who looks like this needs stupid tricks to get laid?" He struck a pose, flexing one arm and pushing out his chest, the picture of an athletic fashion model. "Dude, girls come to me. And the ones that don't aren't worth bothering with."

"But you just said—"

"Oh, that." Zeke waved a hand in dismissal and then resumed walking. "That was a special case. She's just like you are, too wrapped up in her own head to have any fun, and just needed some encouragement. You're the one who always says hypnosis can't make you do anything you really don't want to, right? Though I wouldn't have even bothered except Marv said—" Zeke paused and shook his head. "Whatever, guess I was wrong and she really didn't want to. Dammit. Didn't get laid, lost the bet, and now I'll have to give up the Garsico account... shit."

Bastian just followed him in silence, too incredulous to come up with a response.

Zeke continued to blather on. Bastian found it hard to believe he used to actually like this sort of talk. Zeke had always been a little entitled, riding high on popularity and sports talent, but he'd just gotten so much worse. And as they walked and Bastian listened, each new story stirred the swirl of disgust and anger and despair in his chest until finally they amalgamated into a new emotion: rage. By time they reached the hotel room, he had a new plan.

Zeke finally stopped chattering long enough to unlock the door and push it open. The room beyond actually was pretty high-end, done up with dark wood and shining brass, broad windows, stuffed chairs, drawers, desk, and a very large, fluffy bed. Bastian hardly gave it a glance, his eyes drilling into Zeke's back as he followed the wolf in, dropped his bag, and let the door slam shut behind him.

Zeke gestured around as he walked away toward the bed. "So this is it. Isn't it awesome? River view, plus the bed is amazing. I—"

"Sebastian Says. Kneel until I tell you to get up."

The wolf reeled and then dropped to his knees.

"Um. Seb?" he said, voice unsteady. "What are you doing?"

"Here you are, back again," Bastian snarled, stalking toward the wolf. "After all these years, how are you still such a bastard? Have you ever done anything for anybody but yourself? You just take and take and take, and somehow you never run out of suckers willing to fall for your bullshit. Want a new girl? Just beckon! Want a job? Ask your uncle! Want to pass a class you're just too fucking dumb for? Get the teacher to assign some gullible fool to be your partner!" He walked in front of Zeke and then spun around, glaring down at the top of the wolf's head. "Well. I'm not falling for it again. And for once in your life, I'm going to make you give instead."

Zeke looked up, ears down and smile uncertain. "Seb, you're upset, but you really don't have to—"

"Fuck you, Zeke," Bastian spat. "Do you know how many years I dreamed about you, even after you broke my fucking life? Well. You're finally here for real now. And I know exactly how to make you do anything I've ever wanted."

The wolf's eyes widened in alarm. "Holy shit Seb, I—"

"Sebastian Says. You want to be a good boy, don't you."

Zeke suddenly swayed back like he was drunk as a low groan escaped his mouth.

"Sebastian Says. You do want to be a good boy. And a good boy would give me the best blowjob of my life."

"Ffffffuuuuckkkkk..." Zeke groaned again. His eyes swam and he wobbled for a few moments before snapping back, his entire attention now focused on Bastian's crotch.

Even on his knees he moved fast, and Bastian suddenly found himself knocked off balance as the wolf's paws fiercely attacked his belt buckle. His arms windmilled for a moment until he caught himself on the bed behind him.

His pants had fallen to his ankles and Zeke was already pawing at his briefs when he growled and shoved the wolf back. "No!" he snapped, glaring. "No hands. Put them behind your back. You didn't think I'd make this easy, did you?" He barked a laugh. "No. This is the least you owe me, you asshole, and this time you're going to work for it."

"But how can I—"

Bastian's eyes narrowed. "Sebastian Says. A good boy wouldn't talk until he was done with the job."

Zeke shivered and whined, but his hands went behind his back. Just above his whipping tail.

Then Zeke pushed forward, snout first, nosing and licking hard at Bastian's bulge through his briefs. And this time Bastian was the one to groan as warm pressure and warm breath penetrated the fabric and rubbed against his cock.

He hated this wolf. He was sure of it. But he was also completely hard, and the sight of Zeke below him, from the top of his big head to his broad tapered back to his thick butt and tail, all just made Bastian want more. He growled. Without thinking he grabbed the back of Zeke's head and jammed his hips forward, grinding his bulge over the top of the wolf's snout and shoving his own thighs apart around its width. Then back and again. Until Zeke counterattacked, his hot wet tongue licking the bare fur of Bastian's inner thigh until he gasped and loosed his grip.

They faced each other for a moment, both panting. Bastian still teeth out and snarling. Zeke looking up warily. But when Bastian didn't make any more moves, the wolf inched forward, pushed his nose toward the waistband of Bastian's briefs, and hooked it in his teeth.

Bastian clamped his jaw and stood still as Zeke slowly worried the briefs downward. The scraping, the breath, the brush of warm fur, the whisper of cool air across his heated cock. Finally the briefs dropped to his ankles. Zeke paused, just staring intently at the coyote's shaft again.

"Well?" Bastian growled. "Are you going to—"

Zeke leaned forward and licked, and Bastian's voice cut off with a squeak.

Zeke didn't stay in one place for long. Lapping at the tip moved to nuzzling against the shaft moved to wrapping his wide tongue around both balls at once. Up and down and back again, Bastian staying upright only by his fists clenched into the wolf's shirt and his ass pressed against the side of the bed. Zeke took in only a little of his shaft at first, bobbing forward and back, and then a little more, and then Bastian lost all patience. With a wordless roar he twisted his fingers tight into the fur on the back of the wolf's head and thrust.

Bastian had no plan for this. No insulting quip. All he had was six years of hopeless frustration and lust, and it needed to come out right now.

Zeke pressed his eyes closed as Bastian pounded his face, letting the coyote do as he liked.

Eventually Bastian slowed to a stop. He gasped for breath, feeling like he'd woken from a dream.

Below him the wolf looked a drooling drooping mess. But when Bastian unclenched his fingers from Zeke's fur, the wolf's ears perked up and his eyes fluttered open. There was a wet sound as he pulled himself off the coyote's shaft. He licked his lips.

And then he looked up. And smirked.

His big paws came up to pin Bastian's thighs against the bed. Bastian started to cry foul but then the wolf's mouth was back on Bastian's slick cock—and this time Zeke was in control. His broad tongue wrapped around and over as he worked up and down, somehow managing to catch the coyote's balls again on every downstroke, adding pressure and pleasure wherever it went. Bastian cried out as his aching cock shot jolts up and down his body. And then suddenly Zeke's muzzle was burrowing between his legs under his balls, his hot tongue delving back to find—

Bastian shook and cried out again as he finally came.

For a while afterwards he just lay flopped back on the bed, panting and staring at the ceiling until the pleasure finally faded away.

He felt completely drained. Empty. There was no anger left in him—but nor was there the satisfaction he'd been expecting. Instead, he was just sad again. He'd had fantasies about doing that with Zeke for years, but now that he'd done it the reality just seemed... disappointing. What had even been the point? Finally getting revenge on a guy who wouldn't even remember in the morning?

A warm heavy weight dropped onto Bastian's crotch. He looked down to see that Zeke had laid his chin on his Bastian's stomach and was just staring up at him calmly. Their eyes met. Zeke licked his muzzle, cleaning off a small amount of the coyote cum splattered all over his face.

Suddenly Bastian couldn't stand to look at him.

"Get up," he growled wearily. "Go take a shower. You smell like the bar."

Zeke nosed Bastian's belly briefly, then bounced to his feet and started toward the bathroom, stripping as he went: ring and watch on the table, clothes on the floor, one sock that somehow landed next to Bastian on the bed. Bastian grimaced and flicked it away, then dragged himself off the bed and over to his bag.

He eventually settled on using Okie's "shirt" to clean up as best he could: wiping himself dry, pulling his pants up, straightening out the sleeves of his hoodie. Behind him he heard the wolf moving around and the water turn on, but did his best to ignore it. Instead he dropped into one of the plush chairs and stared at the wall as disgust curdled in his stomach.

Congratulations, Me! Finally managed to take avantage of somebody else instead of the other way around! Nice going!

He sighed. There wasn't anything he could do about it now. He'd just put Zeke to sleep when he got out of the shower, then go home and try to forget the wolf had ever shown up in his life. Maybe he'd even succeed.

His vague examination of the wallpaper continued until a strange sound met his ears. He froze, listening. It sounded like low moaning echoing out of the bathroom, sliding up and down in pitch seemingly randomly—until it clicked, and Bastian recognized the melody of an old Beatles hit. He furrowed his brow. What was... Was Zeke... singing? He craned his neck around to peer toward the bathroom. At which point he discovered two things:

First, that Zeke had left the big sliding door betwen the room and the bathroom completely open.

And second, that the shower walls were made entirely of clear glass.

Zeke's fur was soaked, the outlines of his strong and athletic body clearly visible. His tail swished back and forth as he swayed to the tune, turning under the spray and stroking his paws down his fur to rinse out the soap.

Bastian stared.

Eventually he closed his mouth, adjusted his pants, and went back to determinedly staring at the wall. But it was too late. Far from forgetting the wolf and moving on, Bastian was going to be remembering this image of Zeke every time he jerked off for the next six years.

He shuffled around and pulled out his phone. Checked for messages and found none. Composed half a text to his Materials Science class group about their midterm project. Erased it. Opened Bleatr.

The sound of water cut off. But the singing didn't, and Zeke's husky baritone floated out into the room for a few verses before being buried again under the sounds of the dryer.

Bastian scrolled back and forth but he wasn't really reading anything. Instead he was back in Zeke's bedroom, watching the wolf pull out an honest-to-goodness vinyl copy of Abbey Road that had belonged to his grandfather, and then stick it onto an equally ancient record player. Bastian let him play one song every time he got three homework problems right—until they ran out of problems and just listened to the rest of the album, Bastian sitting on the bed with Zeke flopped down beside. He'd really tried to pay attention to the music. But it was impossible with Zeke so close by. His faint smile as he listened with his eyes closed. The slight tapping of his fingers. The soft chest fur that Bastian wished he could run his fingers through. Zeke sometimes commented on the music—some trivia about the recording, or a story about his granddad, or just noting some part he really liked. Bastian had just hummed and nodded, hardly hearing anything he'd said.

Bastian started and looked up. "Sorry, what?"

Zeke was standing in front of his chair, wearing nothing but a towel tucked around his waist and a thin silver chain that peeked through the fur around his neck. He looked like he belonged in a shampoo ad: perfectly trimmed fur shading from cloud-gray at his front to charcoal-black at his tips, the soft-textured hills hinting at the hard sculpted form beneath. Even his claws and teeth gleamed. And for a moment Bastian was disoriented, seeing the younger, scragglier version of Zeke on top of this older and polished one.

Zeke's tail swished as he quirked an eyebrow.

"I just asked what was so interesting," he said. "After all, you've got a handsome stud here all washed and ready for round two. Seems a bit rude to be on your phone." He gave Bastian a toothy smirk.

Bastian sighed and set his phone down. "Zeke, we're done here."

"What, just 'cause you came once? That's just proof you really can have fun when you finally get out of your own head." Zeke's gaze sharpened as he stalked toward the coyote. "And I can totally make you do it again."

"I shouldn't have done it a first time! It's not—ugghhhh," Bastian growled in frustration. "None of this matters. Sebastian S—"

He cut off as Zeke leaned down and their mouths met.

The wolf's tongue was everywhere. Running hot over his muzzle, trailing fire along his lips, overwhelming his mouth with its size and pressure. Bastian's eyes were closed but he felt a strong hand cupping his chin, keeping him steady against the onslaught. His body shivered and squirmed in the chair. His fingers clenched and claws dug into the armrests, trying to hang on amid the wash of frenzied sensation.

Finally Zeke pulled back. But only prop himself up on the chair's arms, face a handsbreadth from Bastian's, smirking as he stared across at the gasping coyote with an intense focus.

"You're not the only one who was dreaming, you know," he murmured.

Bastian could only gape back him in silence, his heart pounding and face hot.

Zeke's smirk just widened. A hunter who knew his prey could not escape.

Bastian gulped and broke his gaze away—but looking at Zeke's muscled shoulders didn't help, nor did looking down at his solid legs, and seeing the place where his towel was tented up absolutely didn't help, and so Bastian's eyes skittered around until they finally focused on something literally under his nose: the ring dangling from the chain around Zeke's neck. A scale-patterned silver ring shaped like a snake eating its own tail, with the tiniest fleck of jade for its eye.

He stared at it for a moment, eyes narrowing as his lust was forgotten.

"Zeke," he said, voice flat. "Is that my ring?"

Zeke drew back and stood up, an easy smile on his face as he tried to pat the ring down into his fur.

"What? Of course it's nnnnn—"

The wolf abruptly froze, mouth hanging open as his face twisted in confusion.

"Dammit, Zeke. I cannot believe you." Bastian stood up and stalked a few paces across the room before spinning on his heel to glare at the wolf. "So, what," he snarled. "Do you just steal a trophy from all your conquests? A little memento of how well you screwed somebody over?"

Zeke scowled back at him. "I didn't steal it!"

"I don't believe you. You have it right there!"

"I didn't! I'm not lying!" The wolf glanced away, ears dipping. "I don't think I even can lie to you," he muttered.

"What? Why—oh. Right." Bastian sighed. At least one of Okie's commands had turned out to be useful.

Zeke scrubbed his hands over his ears. "Look, you left it at my house the night we studied for the final. I was going to give it back, but..."

Zeke turned away and began violently rummaging through drawers, pulling out boxers and a tanktop.

Bastian scowled at the wolf's back. "But what, Zeke?"

"I..." Zeke paused, still facing away. "I decided I wanted to keep it. And give you my varsity jacket instead. That's why I had you wait after the last game."

Bastian blinked in confusion. "Huh? Why would you give me that?"

Zeke growled as he stuffed himself into the clothes. "Look, it was a dumb idea. It was just, when a guy on the football team has a girlfriend, he gives her his jacket, and she wears it to games for good luck, yeah? My brother did it with a bunch of girls."

Bastian furrowed his brow. "I guess? But you were already done with games for the year. Plus it was summer already. I wouldn't even need a jacket."

"Yeah, yeah. I said it was a dumb idea."

Bastian shrugged. It was nice gesture, he guessed. But—

"Wait. You wanted to ask me out?"

The wolf froze. A long moment passed as Bastian's mouth opened and closed silently.

"Why didn't you?" he asked in a small voice.

Zeke let out a fustrated growl as he pulled his shirt the rest of the way down, then dropped heavily onto the bed. He took a deep breath and let it out.

"Do you remember Ollie? Raccoon guy. Wore tight clothes and hung out with the weirdos. Got in a big fight the last day of classes."

Bastian frowned. "Sort of? What's he got to do with anything?"

Zeke leaned back on his hands. "So there was this guy on the team, Kevin. Stag. Couldn't shoot for shit but ran fast and passed okay. Anyway, he has a messy public breakup with his girlfriend, right. So then Ollie, he comes up the morning before the game and he asks Kev out. Grabs his hand and tries to kiss him. Kev freaks and shoves him off. Ollie hits his head on a locker, has to go see the nurse."

"And, what?" Bastian said, scowling. "You thought I'd be a creep like—"

"Fuck! No!" Zeke shifted on the bed as his face turned sour. "It's 'cause it was all the guys were talking about all day. We made kissy faces at Kev and talked about his gay boyfriend until he was red-faced and crazy. Then some of the guys started in on how he shoulda broken Ollie's arm or kicked him in the nuts or something. Jordan was even planning to corner the guy later and get back at him somehow."

He took another deep breath and let it out in a sigh. "So, after the game, I was sitting there in the locker room. I knew you were waiting. But when the guys went out to celebrate season-end, I went with them. And hoped you'd just, like, forget. I didn't want you to end up like Ollie."

Bastian considered this. Probably it was true as far as it went. But... "Sounds to me like you got scared and chickened out."

"Ha! I wasn't ssssssss—FUCK." Zeke rubbed his face with his hands. "Okay. Yes. I panicked. I'd been pretending like, I could ask you out and it wouldn't be totally gay, that nobody would care. But that'd never work. It would be. And I... couldn't be. I couldn't do it. And then you cornered me after class in front of everybody and I just... panicked again."

Bastian wanted to be angry and exasperated with Zeke. To yell and snarl at him. But he couldn't. He'd gone to exactly the same school. Had listened to exactly the same shit, directed at people who had worse camouflage than him. He understood exactly how this had happened. And he hated that he did. This entire thing had been doomed from the start.

He shook his head. "You know," he said, "For a guy who isn't gay you're strangely good at sucking dick."

Zeke looked up at him, confused. "Huh? Dude, sucking a bro off isn't gay, that's just sex. Gay is like, dating and cuddling and doing sappy shit."

"That is so not how that—"

"And I was so gay for you!" Zeke threw up his hands. "Sure, I wanted to bend you over a table. But I also wanted to just hug you and lick your face. Go places and talk. One time I sat there, crazy happy just to be watching you do your homework and eat a bag of doritos! It was so weird! And nobody I've hooked up with since has been like that either." He shook his head and snorted. "Man. It was like you mindzapped me or something. Even though I know you're too uptight to actually do that. I mean hell, you didn't make me do anything fun. It was just study study study with you." He sighed and shook his head again.

Bastian could hardly think. He didn't know what to do with any of this. To have it all come out now... It felt like he was falling down miles into the dark, staring up at the solid platform he could have jumped to if only he'd known it was there.

He slowly trudged over to the bed and slumped down next to Zeke.

"If you had asked me out, I probably would have said yes," he said, dully.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I had a serious crush."

"You did??"

Bastian turned his head and raised an eyebrow at Zeke's incredulous tone. "You really didn't notice? I just didn't say anything because I thought you only liked girls, is all. That was all you ever talked about."

"Oh." Zeke looked down and fidgeted. "Um. Yeah. I was kind of, trying to impress you? So you'd like me?"

"By telling me about your hookups. With girls."

"....Yes?"

An exasperated chuckle bubbled up from Bastian's chest. "How the heck did I manage to put up with your dumb ass for an entire year?" he asked, shaking his head.

Zeke looked up, smiling softly. "You're just one of those guys who wants everyone to succeed. And will kick their ass if they don't."

"Pff."

"Bro, you didn't have to help me study. You could have let me hang and just done the lab reports yourself. Probably would have been easier than dragging my ass along with you. But you did it anyway."

Bastian stared at his lap. "I... maybe I used to be like that."

Zeke shrugged. "Seem the same to me. Maybe more settled is all."

They sat a moment in pensive silence. Bastian's thoughts swirled slowly. Zeke was right: when they'd first gotten stuck together, Bastian could have written him off as a dumb lazy jock. It would have been totally natural. But even then it had been obvious Zeke desperately wanted to succeed, and was willing to work for it. And Bastian couldn't help but respond to that. Had that happened with anyone since? Maybe—

"Oh, here." Zeke said. He reached behind his neck to undo the clasp of the chain, then dumped the ring off it into his palm and held it out. "I can't go back and do it all over again. But I should at least give this back."

Bastian carefully took the ring. "I'm surprised you still have it. It's been a while."

"Yeah. Well."

Bastian stared at the silver ring his hands, turning it over and over. A ring Zeke apparently had been wearing for the last six years. They'd used it as a focus a few times—probably how he'd forgotten it at Zeke's—but it wasn't anything special. Bought on a whim at a street fair. A jade-eyed snake eating its own tail, circling endlessly, beginning to end to beginning again.

Bastian furrowed his brow as an idea slowly took shape.

He looked up at Zeke, gaze sharp. "Zeke. Do you want to go back? To try it over? Would you choose differently?"

The wolf shrugged. "I wish. But you can't—"

"You can. Hold out your hand."

Zeke gave him a puzzled look but obeyed. Bastian set the ring into his palm, then shifted to put his mouth closer Zeke's ear and murmured in a slow, chanting cadence.

"Focus on the eye. The nexus of time. The endlessly circling snake, past to present, present to past. One ring of time, forward to back, sending you back."

Zeke went still, staring at the ring.

"Sebastian Says. You are eighteen. It's June of your senior year at Baker High. The summer is starting to heat up. Your brother is home from college. But it's the last week of school and you are about to graduate, having passed all your classes."

Even as Bastian described it to Zeke he could feel the memories returning for himself as well, a flood less of images than emotion—anxiety, hope, determination—and when he looked at Zeke's face, a familiar fluttering in his stomach.

Zeke's breathing slowed down as his eyes drifted closed. Bastian reached over and gently closed Zeke's fingers around the ring.

"Sebastian Says. You just finished playing an intramural soccer match. It was your last game of the year. The team wants you to go celebrate with them. But you've told me to meet you, and I am waiting. You have to choose now. What do you want?"

Zeke's eyes remained closed. But his ears and lips twitched, the faint echoes of expressions flashing over his face. Bastian watched, and waited. Hoping and trying not to hope.

After a long minute, Zeke's eyes slowly opened. He turned his head and gave Bastian a tilted smile, his entire demeanor different: just as brash as before, but somehow less sure, less sharp, less arrogant.

"Hey bro," he said. "Thanks for waiting for me."

Bastian let out the breath he'd been holding with an odd sense of settling fully into his own fur. A matching smile sprouted on his muzzle.

"Sure. Great game today. I saw you tackle that guy right before he took a shot."

Zeke's smile widened as he puffed out his chest a bit. "Oh yeah? That was pretty cool, huh? Too bad we still lost though."

"Heh. Forwards' fault again?"

Zeke snorted. "Yeah. Fuckin' Kev. Coach Brown better move him somewhere else next year." He paused. "Not that I'll be here to see it, I guess. Last game and all."

"Yeah." Bastian fiddled his hands in his lap as his smile turned sad. "Not going to be seeing you anymore, I guess. You going to do okay in college without somebody to trick you into studying?"

Zeke snorted. "Ha. We'll see."

He fidgeted for a moment, then held up the ring.

"So, uh. You left this at my house last week."

"Oh! Thanks. I was wondering where that had gotten to." Bastian reached out to take the ring, but Zeke pulled it back, ears flicking nervously.

"I was hoping I'd keep it? Like, do you want to swap?"

Bastian frowned in confusion. "Swap? For what?"

The wolf glanced around quickly, then got up and snatched his gold-and-garnet ring from the bedside table, leaving the silver one in its place. He plopped down again right next to Bastian, their legs and shoulders nearly touching. Bastian looked up at him—even sitting, he was still almost half a head taller.

"Here, this. My mom gave me this when I graduated." Zeke trailed off for a moment, brow furrowed, before shaking his head and continuing. "It used to be my granddad's. It's got his initial, see? He was gonna give it to me himself, since we've got the same name. But he died when I was fifteen." He held up the ring, tilting it so Bastian could see the deep red gem with the letter 'E' carved beneath.

"Your granddad? The one you listened to all those records with?"

"Yeah."

Bastian shook his head. "Zeke, I can't take that. That's way too important."

"Bro. Take it. I wouldn't have graduated in the first place if it wasn't for you." Zeke gave him a sly smile. "Besides, the guys borrow and trade stuff with their girls all the time. If we're boyfriends then we should trade something too, right?"

Bastian paused. "Um. Zeke?" he said, voice strangled. "We're not boyfriends?"

The wolf just blinked at him in puzzlement for a moment. Then his back jolted straight up as his eyes went wide.

"OH SHIT!"

Zeke slapped his paws around Bastian's and stared into his eyes frantically.

"WOULDYOUGOOUTWITHMEPLEASE?"

Bastian stared back. Did he really want to date this idi—

"Yes. Absolutely."

Zeke stopped vibrating and fell back into a relieved slouch. "Oh thank Dog. So you'll take the ring? Please?"

A warm tickling feeling grew in Bastian's chest and his tail started sweeping over the bed. "Yeah. Okay," he said, smiling.

Zeke threaded the ring onto the silver chain and carefully clasped it around Bastian's neck. Then he just sat and stared, tail waving, a wide dumb grin on his face. Bastian felt a similar grin on his own face as he fiddled with the ring, trying to get a look at it on its chain. And whenever he glanced at the wolf, the warm feeling in his chest just increased.

Zeke shuffled closer, pressing against Bastian's side. The coyote felt hot breaths along his muzzle and turned his head—and then Zeke was nuzzling at his cheek, tongue flicking out to lap along his jaw and neck, muzzle rubbing against muzzle. Bastian let that go for a bit before pushing in himself, paws all over Zeke's neck and shoulders, nose pushing under his chin to breathe in the smell of wolf.

When Bastian came up for air, Zeke was holding him by the arms, lightly and carefully as glass. The wolf looked down at him, mouth open slightly as he panted. Bastian slowly looked him up and down, from broad head to solid torso to thick legs, then experimentally laid a hand over one of Zeke's. Zeke flipped it over and laced their fingers together, his digits spreading Bastian's wide.

"This really isn't fair," Bastian muttered. "You're two sizes larger than me like, everywhere."

Zeke just smirked at him.

Bastian let go of Zeke's hand and reached toward the wolf's chest, stopping just before contact.

"Can I, um—"

"Bro," the wolf breathed. "You can touch whatever you want if you'd just fucking kiss me already."

"Oh. Uh. Okay." Bastian looked up to find Zeke hovering close. Tentatively he tilted his face upward and leaned in.

Their lips brushed over each other softly, then more firmly. Bastian licked at the side of Zeke's mouth. The wolf opened it with a groan, then spread a hand on Bastian's back. But he still didn't press, letting the coyote explore as he liked.

And Bastian definitely liked. His tongue slipped over Zeke's lips and teeth as their hot breaths mingled. He savored the taste and smell of the wolf he'd been pining for. When he pressed inside, his tongue met another in an enthusiastic welcome. It was a feeling more like embers than fireworks, yet every moment kindled the embers hotter.

Zeke groaned. His other hand came up to cradle Bastian's head as he started to kiss in earnest, his large tongue overwhelming any resistance as it crowded in past Bastian's lips to slide against the coyote's own. Bastian's fingers twisted into Zeke's shirt as he held on against the onslaught, while Zeke's strong hand drifted down his back and dug under his hoodie, sending shivers up Bastian's spine as it rubbed directly against his fur.

Zeke pulled back, smirking as Bastian gasped for breath. Then his ears flicked around as his expression turned nervous.

"Bro, wait. Should we be doing this at school?" he asked. "Somebody might see. Don't know if you wanna deal with that shit."

Bastian paused. It'd definitely be safer to stop. But... "Don't care. Let 'em be jealous."

Zeke's grin returned. "Fuck yeah."

A second later he was crushing the coyote to his chest, giving him the most vigorous face-licking Bastian had ever experienced, while Bastian could do nothing but close his eyes and let the big hot wolf use his big hot tongue. Eventually Zeke let up enough for Bastian to breathe, instead twisting their necks together as his paws ran up and down Bastian's torso and clawed at his sweatshirt. The coyote returned the favor, stroking frantically along Zeke's sides and running his hands up under the wolf's shirt to dig into his thick fur.

Zeke growled and pulled back, then violently shucked his tanktop, letting it fly off into a corner. Then he grabbed the bottom of Bastian's hoodie and pulled both it and shirt off over the coyote's head. Bastian felt a sudden chill as his fur was exposed to the air—but it had nothing on the heat inside and half a moment later he was rubbing his face against Zeke's bare chest, the fur as warm and soft as he'd imagined, the body underneath somehow warmer and firmer. Bastian's nose inhaled the full heavy scent he'd only gotten hints of for months. Zeke nuzzled at his neck and ran his thick blunt claws along Bastian's sides, while the coyote's hands continued to stroke over the wolf. Around to the wide back. Across the flat velvet belly. And then down to brush the waistband, where they hesitated.

Suddenly Zeke grabbed his wrist in an iron grip. Bastian pulled back and looked up, ears already tipping back in apology. But the wolf didn't look angry. Just intense. As he stared Bastian in the eyes and shoved the coyote's hand down the front of his boxers.

Heat was the first thing Bastian felt. Then solidity. A hot, firm rod that fit right in his grip. Two sizes bigger than his own, of course. And... wet.

Still staring, still holding Bastian in place, Zeke ground himself against the coyote's palm.

Bastian was abruptly breathless. He dug his fingers deeper, down the shaft to the furry balls between the powerful thighs, rubbing and fondling and barely noticing Zeke undoing his pants—until he felt thick fingers rubbing over his ass and a firm wet hand stroking up and down his hard cock.

Zeke leaned in for another kiss—and kept leaning, pushing Bastian back onto the bed as his tongue pushed into the coyote's mouth. He shimmied and ditched the boxers. Then he ground down with his hips, pushing Bastian's ass deep into the bed with the coyote's hand still trapped between their two slick shafts.

Bastian gasped, heat and pressure and aching cock overwhelming.

Zeke let up. But Bastian needed the pressure back and instinctively brought his other hand down to his crotch as well, gripping his own cock and Zeke's together. Zeke chuckled.

"Can do, bro. Hold on tight," he murmured.

He dove in for another kiss just as he started thrusting.

It was all Bastian could do to keep his grip as the wolf plowed against him like a steam engine picking up speed. Zeke's arms squeezed his shoulders. Zeke's chest rubbed against his fur. Zeke's cock slid along his own. Zeke's tongue dominated his mouth. And every point sparked burning lighting, too much to count or measure.

Which one of them came first was anybody's guess. But eventually Zeke slowed to a stop, and Bastian uncramped his fingers, and they just lay together in a messy pile on the bed. Bastian stared at the ceiling and idly stroked the wolf's fur, clinging to floating warmth as the room slowly turned solid around him.

"Brooo," Zeke said, sounding half asleep. "You gotta come over Saturday. I wanna hang out like this all summer."

Bastian smiled wistfully. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Zeke hummed contentedly and squeezed the coyote tight before curling up into a cuddle.

Bastian scratched him between the ears and he hummed again.

"You should rest now," Bastian said softly. "We've still got school tomorrow."

"Blehhhhhh. Don't wanna."

"No blehing. Sebastian Says, sleep until morning."

The wolf's eyes closed as his breaths turned slow and steady, not changing even when Bastian wriggled out from under him.

It didn't take too long for Bastian to clean up and gather his things, even at his unhurried pace. He left the gold garnet ring on the table. He left the silver snake one too—Zeke would surely miss it if it were suddenly gone. At the threshhold, he turned to give the slumbering, smiling wolf one last, long look.

"Goodbye, Zeke," he said. And then let the door shut behind him.

= = = = = = = = = =

On Wednesday, Bastian woke as usual in the breakroom of the Lucky Horseshoe. Daylight was still coming in the small, high window—Okie had gotten off early today, so Bastian had been planning to go home, order dinner, and maybe watch that new Marvol movie. The message he was currently glaring at, however, was a guarantee that all his plans were about to be blown out of the water. Again.

Okie: THIS ONE IS NOT MY FAULT XD XD XD

Bracing himself, Bastian cautiously walked out into the main room of the bar.

Once again he found himself facing a familiar wolf. Zeke was dressed down today but still looked amazing, in shorts and a tee shirt at least one size too small for him. He was drawing curious—and lustful—looks as he lounged at the bar, but was ignoring them with an air of unassailable confidence. Until he glanced over, saw Bastian, and abruptly stood up.

Bastian found himself unusually calm. He'd already run through all of his emotions for Zeke the night before. If there was an epilogue today, he could deal with it. So he shrugged and walked forward unhurriedly.

Zeke, in contrast, looked anything but calm. He walked jerkily, like he couldn't decide between rushing toward Bastian and shying away from him. But eventually they met. Bastian stopped and waited for the fidgeting wolf to speak.

"Um. Hey Seb," Zeke said, voice unsteady. "Your brother said you'd be getting off now. Good to see you again."

Bastian smiled politely. "It's 'Bastian' now. What do you need, Zeke?"

"Oh! Bastian. Right. Fuck. Um. I'm sorry."

The coyote just tilted his head slightly.

The wolf flapped a hand at him. "Wait, not for that. I mean, I'm sorry for all the shit in high school. I was—whatever, it doesn't matter. But you were a great friend and I cut you down in the worst way. I'm sorry. You don't have to forgive me. I can't make it up to you. I just... I just wanted to say that. In case we never see each other again."

Bastian was silent. Two days before he would have screamed in Zeke's face and told him to go fuck himself and his apology. Or maybe he'd have just run away crying. But today, he felt like a piece of something long-shattered had finally slipped into place, leaving it nearly complete again. And he also found there was something he still had to do.

Zeke bit his lip and fumbled at his collar, pulling out the ring, but he couldn't seem to get it unclasped. Bastian held up a hand to stop him.

"Wait. I'm sorry too," he said, and sighed. "I um. I hypnotized you into giving me a blowjob without asking first. Last night. You probably don't remember. I shouldn't have done that, and I'm sorry."

Bastian braced himself and waited for the outrage and betrayal. He'd weather it, and then all their debts would finally be settled and done.

But Zeke just stared at him. Motionless. For long enough that Bastian started to wonder if the wolf's brain had just broken.

"So—"

"Will you do it again?" the wolf asked. He surreptitiously adjusted his shorts.

Bastian blinked. Then he looked down. And saw Zeke's shorts very obviously tented.

"Really??"

Zeke scratched his head sheepishly. "I mean. Not here, I guess. We could go back to my hotel?"

Bastian sighed. He looked Zeke up and down and for a moment thought he saw a much younger wolf, his backward cap and his awkward gestures.

For better or worse, Zeke wasn't exactly the wolf he remembered. And Bastian wasn't exactly the coyote he remembered either. Yet for both the past still echoed, the familiar songs sounding the same as always if you knew how to listen.

And unexpectedly, Bastian found himself curious about the differences too.

"How about we get dinner?" he asked. "We can catch up."

Zeke perked up. "Like... a date?" he said, and grinned.

"Sure." Bastian frowned. "But no putting anything in my drink, okay?"

"Bro! I've never—" Zeke's face abruptly froze, mouth open. A few seconds passed, then he blinked, closed his mouth, and swallowed.

"I wouldn't do that to you," he said, voice low.

Bastian nodded and gestured toward the door. "Right then. Let's go?"

But as they walked out of the bar together, Bastian felt a thought niggling at him. That reaction had been weird. Was Zeke...?

"Hey Zeke. You make good money, right?"

The wolf preened as he held the door open. "I do pretty well for myself, I think."

Bastian grinned. "Right. You're picking the restaurant then, because Sebastian Says you're paying for dinner."

Zeke jolted like he'd been shocked, and abruptly Bastian was pinned against the outside wall of the bar as he received a brief, violent facelicking. Then Zeke turned around and walked off as if nothing had happened.

Bastian wiped his face on his sleeve and followed, still grinning.