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The dense fog came in during the middle of the night, when almost everyone was asleep. It rolled in over the forested hills and around the mountains to our back. No doubt that it also affected a large portion of northern Wisconsin too.

Luckily, the night watchmen and Dylan Martin, an old friend of Zachary's and the town's resident 'weatherman', had a pre-Collapse portable Doppler radar that indicated how bad the weather would be in our local area. It could predict when a sudden thunderstorm or a severe drop in temperature during the winter months would occur, and the townspeople could easily prepare themselves. It was one of the many reasons that Second Chances managed to survive for so long.

According to Mr. Martin, the thick fog would last for a few days, and advised Zachary to impose a temporary curfew.

Fortunately for me, I'd been having another 'sleepover' with the triplets (again) when the fog made an unceremonious welcome, and Zachary returned to his family's cabin with the news. We were already preparing to get dressed when the older black cat told us what was going on. I remembered slowly starting to notice the smell of Doberman wafting around a bedroom normally drenched in the scents of black cats. Was I spending more time with the Sauveterres than I thought?

Their conversation brought me back to reality.

“Is it really that bad, Daddy?" Cliff asked, fumbling with his underwear and jeans.

“Martin says the radar doesn't lie," he sighed. “I even had him restart the damn thing again to make sure it wasn't a glitch, and it ain't. We're likely gonna be stuck in this mist for three or four days. Five at most, if we're unlucky."

For a moment, I didn't see Zachary, the handsome older man who shared his bed with not just his sons, but me too, or the black cat who unabashedly welcomed me to his settlement with open arms. I witnessed Mr. Sauveterre, leader of the town of Second Chances, take control. He stood tall in the bedroom doorway, the jolly and friendly father figure now serious while watching me and his three adult sons get rapidly dressed in their master bedroom. There was a fire and a determination in his amber eyes. One that I often saw during my travels across the apocalyptic continent.

“Until this fog disappears, Second Chances is under lockdown," he explained, tired exasperation—and confidence—in his baritone voice. “I'm already having messengers go from door-to-door, but here's the gist: watchmen, farmers, and messengers are essential workers for now. Messengers will stop by houses every two hours to check up on people and see if they need anything. Farmers will watch animals and crops but not use sharp equipment. We're also doubling watch shifts in case raiders use this weather as an advantage to attack."

My ears remained attentive as I listened closely. What did that mean for me?

“Ambrose, I talked with Greg and Clyde, and you're helping them out on the West tower."

“Watching or wandering?" he asked midway through buckling his belt.

“Watching, with bathroom breaks. You're staying up there in the tower with whoever's there until Mariah or Eric replaces you in several hours." He lifted another finger to the triplet buttoning his shirt to my right. “Cliff, I need you as an extra messenger. Don't hesitate to ask for a break if you need it. And Blaine?"

He turned to his middle son, who had been hesitating to get dressed. I couldn't help but notice the hope and hidden fear in Blaine's expression.

Zachary let out another sigh. “Unless we're really short-staffed, you're staying here to guard the home, and Donovan?" He turned to me. My back went stiff, and I waited for the town leader to give me an assignment. “Would you mind staying here with Blaine? I doubt you'd want to stay cooped up and all alone at your place, would you?"

A small grin crept up my canine muzzle. “No, I wouldn't," I said, returning Blaine and his father's thankful smiles with my own. My tail wag the feverishly at their approval. “I won't mind staying here to help watch over the fort."

Then again, what else could I do? I hadn't been living in Second Chances for that long. The skills I learned at the prison farm didn't even translate that well when it came to days when I helped out as a farmhand. I was basically a volunteer assistant for any other resident who needed an extra paw to help.

“Good!" Zachary nodded. “Cliff, could you inform the other messengers first chance you get that Donovan's gonna be staying here?"

“Sure thing." Cliff flashed me and Blaine his fangs, and we rolled our eyes at him. “Have fun, you two!"

“Alright, boys." Their father clapped his calloused, mighty paws together. “We better get going! No running and be careful! Thanks for staying, Donnie." He stepped over to pat my shoulder and then turned to gently hold Blaine's limp elbows. The younger feline stared up to Zachary with deep appreciation. “Love you, Blaine. I promise we'll be back soon."

“Thank you, Daddy." He purred, and their muzzles tenderly connected.

Ambrose and Cliff gave me sly smirks when they spotted me trying to hide a boner. I couldn't help it. More often than not, seeing something as quick as a loving, incestuous kiss between any of the Sauveterres caused me to get an erection unlike any other. With modern society long gone and the triplets and their father inviting me for 'sleepovers' plenty of times, I wondered why my arousal was something to still be ashamed of.

Oh well. Once the affectionate lips of father and son parted, everyone went to work. Zachary left for the Hub to help coordinate Second Chances' response and the possibility of a surprise attack—though unlikely, but a possibility, nevertheless. Ambrose went to his longer shift at a watchtower and Cliff shuffled through the fog with his father to start assisting the other full-time messengers at the Hub, leaving me and Blaine all alone in the large cabin.

I coaxed the black cat, wearing only his plain pajama bottoms and nothing else, into joining me in the living room. A part of me thought about getting a board game from the closet when I noticed the heavy anxiety coming from him.

“Blaine?" I asked.

“Yeah, Donnie?"

“Do you have a…like, fear of fog, or something?"

I glanced over to the cabin windows, filling my ears droop. Nothing but gray mist could be seen. I couldn't even catch sight of the morning sun, but I could tell it was daylight. It looked less like a glass pane showing the outside world and more like a submarine's porthole. It would make anyone feel isolated from the world.

My suspicions were confirmed when Blaine tried to follow my gaze and immediately looked away towards the floorboards.

“I…It's called homichlophobia." He stepped away from the staircase, joining me in the kitchen. His fur stood on and even as we spoke. “I can like, tolerate it if I'm there with Ambrose or Cliff, but…it still freaks me out. Like I'm going to suddenly vanish out of nowhere or something is going to pop out and pull me in…"

“C'mon," I offered him, and hugged him with an arm, “why don't we make a small breakfast, then find a way to keep ourselves distracted? Got any ideas?"

***

Quite a few, but the main distraction me and Blaine utilized was fucking. Raw, unbound homosexual intercourse anywhere we could experiment on or against. After the previous night, it shocked me that my body could still do a few more rounds until I eventually found myself naked with a handsome black cat cuddling against me on the couch. Our heartbeats were still throbbing with excitement.

“Would you believe me if I said that there are rumors about you?"

I perked an ear up. “Are they good rumors or bad rumors?"

“What's the difference?" Cliff asked.

“Well," I coyly explained, “one form of rumors involves everyone thinking that you're a mysterious badass and the other involves them thinking that you have taboo orgies with the town leader's sons."

“And the town leader too," he corrected me, laughing alongside me before curling closer to my bare chest. His ear could almost feel my heartbeat. “Honestly? It's mostly good. They know you're a hard worker and are glad you're pitching in whenever you can. The weirdest rumor is that you're going to be in a polyamorous marriage with all four of us."

“Marriage?" I gawker. “With all four of you?"

“Me, my brothers, and our dad," he confirmed, smirking a the absurdity. “What? Is that a no? You don't love us?"

I let out a series of letters and sounds that tried to form words. It really amused the frisky feline.

“I mean, I love you all," I explained, “but I'm not like IN LOVE with you all. I just…I like what we have here. Like, having sex is one of many ways I'm sharing how much I love you as friends, you know?"

“Love takes different forms," he summarized my words.

“Exactly," I beamed.

“Exactly." Cliff nodded, his purrs vibrating against my chest as I held him. “Who says that sex is only for lovers or mates?"

“We don't," I said. “Besides, I know that you have a deep bond with your brothers and your father. I could never think about replacing any of them. What you have is…is special. It's beautiful."

“Thank you, Donovan," Cliff murmured.

My toes affectionately rubbed against his under the blanket. Cliff lifted his head to exchange a soft smile with me, then leaned in for a soft kiss. We parted just as a knock at the door interrupted our relaxed thoughts.

I went to the door, wearing a towel, only to relax when I saw it was Cliff. I opened the barrier a small crack as I felt an identical, equally-naked presence standing behind me.

“Hey, Donnie. Hey, bro!" Cliff waved a paw on the front porch. “How're you both doing?"

“Alright, I guess," Blaine mumbled behind me. “How's the patrol going?"

“Boring as hell, but it's better than nothing," he groaned, then turned to me with a wry smile. “How's it going? Is he giving ya a hard time?"

“Emphasis on the 'hard', yes."

All three of us and laughter as Cliff told us he would stop by within an hour or two. Until then, I closed the front door to prevent more fog from entering and turned to Blaine with a mirroring grin. We still had the rest of the day to pass the time and planned to make the most of it. Whether it be having sex until our fuzzy balls drained, playing a board game, or cooking lunch.

Either way, it was going to be fun.