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Chapter 7 – I’m Still Here

(Content Warning: Mild NSFW(Referential))

The next several days went by in a blur for Michael. Mornings and nights spent putting up with his father and his friends, watching how these men who could seem almost normal, even wholesome one minute, could then turn around and say the most insulting, hateful things the next, all with a straight face as though it were the most natural, obvious thing in the world. That was what hit the hardest, really, not just what they were saying, but how they said it: As though everyone should just agree with them.

He found himself more and more opposed to the ideals pushed by his father. And yet, dealing with these moments, smiling his way through them, making excuses, it all seemed to get easier. This, he felt, was due in no small part to how, every day once his father left for work at the hospital, he would leave and drive into town, to Ryan’s Pub, or the Arcade and spend the day with his friends.

Friends.

He had said he had friends, before. He would point to the sycophants and bullies that flocked to follow him, the girls that would bat their eyes at him, the most popular guy in school. He would say they were all his friends. But they weren’t. They never had been, and he knew that. They were only his ‘friends’ when they thought it got them something, or as long as he was doing things in a socially acceptable way. None of them were there for him, when he needed them. None of them had asked how he was doing, or if he was okay. None had offered comfort, words of advice, or even just their presence when he was feeling so alone in the world. Until Dylan Starr, of all people, had noticed him, had asked him if he was alright.

Friends. He had real friends, now. Not just Dylan, either. He spent Tuesday afternoon with them all, drinking and chatting at Ryan’s, and was invited to come over the next day, after Dylan was off work, to play Alley Brawler 6 on Ashley’s PawStation 5. He’d said yes, of course, and Wednesday he’d shown up to find Ash and Dylan as well as Troy and Taliesin there. Mandy was not, as she was working a late shift at the Tolliver House. Apparently, she was a tour guide or something like that, at the old place. You couldn’t have paid Michael enough to work there, as the big, three story Victorian manor house that looked like something out of a Scooby Doo episode had always given him the creeps.

He had met them all in the bar, and they’d had a couple of light drinks, before heading upstairs, to the Ryan family’s apartment, which, like the bar downstairs, dated back to the turn of the 20th century, but had been extensively remodeled over the years, to bring it up to modern standards of safety and living. Ashley had led the way to his bedroom, where he had his system hooked up, and Michael had a moment of hesitation before entering. Was this weird? He was going into a bedroom with a group of guys, most of whom were some form of queer. That didn’t make him gay, right?

“Hey, dude. You cool?” Troy had asked, from beside him, and Michael had jumped slightly, before looking at him, licking his lips nervously. The human had grinned. “Hey, don’t worry, dude. Just chillax. Nobody’s gonna try anything. I mean… okay, those three might try’n make out, at some point, but, nobody’ll do anything with you that you ain’t cool with.” He said, nodding his head with a smile. “I’ll sit next to ya, yeah? Like a bodyguard or somethin’!” He laughed.

Michael had to admit, the thought made him feel a little better, though the notion that the others might start getting physical with each did the exact opposite. A strange mix of nerves, lingering negative thoughts and… something else that Michael tried to not think too hard about.

His nerves were not helped in the slightest upon entering Ashley’s bedroom. For starters, it was the oddest mix of masculine and girly décor he’d ever encountered, with posters of bands and video games, mixed with ones of attractive guys (mostly ALSO from video games or anime) and unicorns and sparkly hearts.

Then he happened to glance over towards the queen size bed, seeing the pink and lace pillows and heavy, old style quilt that covered the mattress, along with a small army of stuffed animals of various kinds, all in front of a headboard of rich, aged oak that was topped by a shelf. A stereo, anime figurines, a plasma ball and other assorted nick-knacks covered the shelf, along with….

Michael’s eyes had gone wide as he realized that the centerpiece and backdrop of the clutter on the shelf was a row of very lifelike sex toys, all phallic in design. They were arranged by size from the smallest, a slim little thing the species of which Michael was unsure about, to the largest, which even someone as sheltered as him recognized as being modeled off of a male horse. He had no frame of reference aside for the occasional snippet of a video online for the actual size of a horse anima, but he knew their reputation, and if this was even close the actual size, it was well earned: It must have been fifteen inches long, and nearly as big around the middle as his wrist!

He didn’t realize he’d stopped in his tracks until Ashley giggled and Dylan cursed softly. He blinked, coming back to himself and looked over at the stoat, feeling the heat of an intense blush on his face. “Like them?” Ash asked, smirking, and Michael cleared his throat, feeling very uncomfortable.

“God damnit, Ash, I asked you to hide those!” Dylan said, blushing slightly as well, while the mustelid put his hands on his hips and snorted.

“I’m not ashamed of myself OR my collection, Dee!” He said, smirking.

“I would fuckin’ hope not.” Troy said, walking over to stand next to Michael. “Considering how much you’ve spent on them.”

“Yeah, Ash, ain’t the Chance alone like two-bills?” Tal asked, grinning, and Ash pressed his lips together, glancing away with a pensive look on his face.

“Wait,” Michael said, holding up a hand, while the other reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “One of those things cost two-hundred dollars?!” He said, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

“Yeeaaah.” Ash said, grimacing slightly, his smile turning a little more awkward. “I… might have a problem with impulse shopping.”

“Ain’t no ‘might’ about it, girl.” Tal said, snorted and turning away to go boot up the console and turn the TV on.

“Oh, shut up, you’re just jealous!” Ash said, rolling his eyes, while Tal laughed in the background.

“Which… one is that expensive?” Michael asked, eyeing the ‘toys’ with a twisted sense of curiosity, feeling like an explorer eyeing an exotic, highly venomous snake. He didn’t want to touch it, but somehow he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to know more.

“That would be Chancey, here. With the custom color palette, he was actually closer to two-thirty.” Ash said, grinning, looking less self-conscious already as he reached out and picked up the one modeled off of a horse. It was strange to look at, for Michael. He’d heard about horses, who hadn’t? But, outside of an occasional video on YiffAxis, he’d never seen one, and he never really liked watching them. His Dad, on top of his already general speciesm, had a special level of dislike for Equines, considering them “Only suited for manual labor”. The Voice in his head always started going off at them in a way that made Michael disgusted with himself, so he’d always clicked away whenever he saw even a mention of a horse in a video. Which had made things hard since they were quite popular in the porn industry.

For very obvious reasons! He thought to himself, looking at the toy. “Is that how big a horse actually is?!” He asked, eye twitching slightly.

“Mmm.” Ash waggled his hand back and forth. “I’d say this is the upper extreme, like a Clydesdale or Shire, maybe. I mean, this is the XL model! Most horses are only about ten or eleven inches. Anima horses, at least.” He said with a cheeky wink that Michael wasn’t sure he understood.

Michael looked at him, then back to the toy. Ash was not a large man, only topping out a little under five and a half feet, barefoot, as he was now, and maybe weighed one-hundred and twenty pounds, soaking wet. “… Have you… C-C-Can you actually…?” He hesitated, blushing bright red, uncertain how to even ask that question.

Ashley laughed, reaching over to put the toy back on the shelf. “Oh, you’re cute!” He said, before looking thoughtful, then leaning forward. “Yes. But… only if I have all day to work on it.” He said, giving a wink.

“Doesn’t… doesn’t that, like, hurt, though?” Michael asked, confused. The way he’d been raised, it was his understanding that anal was just painful, anyway. How could anyone stand doing it with something like that?!

Ash crossed his arms and hummed. “No, not really. I mean, if I tried to use him dry and without any foreplay, sure. But otherwise, it’s just really… filling.” He said, smiling, face flushing slightly. “I mean, there’s a little pain, but it’s that kind that feels soooo good, when you’re really into it, ya know?” He asked, smiling, and Michael looked at him, wide eyed and blushing.

The simple truth was that Michael had never actually had sex before. He’d gone down on Kelly, when she wanted it, and occasionally, if he made her happy, she might be convinced to give him a handjob, but that was the extent of his sexual experience. That said, he was not even close to being comfortable enough with these new friends of his to talk about that. Not as comfortable as Ashley seemed to be with discussing his own sexual experience, at least. Fortunately, Dylan swooped in to his rescue.

“Ash, could you please stop trying to break Michael’s brain?! God!” The coyote said, stepping up and looking at Michael. “Sorry, Mike, I had a feeling he wouldn’t move those. I didn’t want it to freak you out or anything….” He said, hugging himself with one arm.

Michael blinked, looking at him, then down at the floor. “No, it’s… it’s okay, Dylan.” He said, looking back up to see the coyote staring at him, doubtfully. “I mean it! You guys have taught me a lot about… things. Things that I wasn’t going to learn about, any other way, not if my Dad had any say in the matter.” He said, taking a breath. “So… I might not be interested in doing any of… that stuff, but… I still want to … try to understand it.” He said. “You guys have been way kinder to me than I deserve, anyway. So, I wouldn’t want to make anyone have to feel like they need to change, for me. I did that kinda shit enough, back in school.”

Dylan looked at him, and a small smile turned up one corner of his mouth. “I appreciate that, Michael.” He said, before rolling his eyes. “Still, most of us have the common decency to keep our dildo collections in a box under the bed, like a normal fucking person, Ash.” He said, turning a playful glare on the mustelid, who grinned.

“Honey, you damn well know I’m not normal!” Ash said, giggling, as they all made their way to the couch, where Troy and Tal were already in the process of setting up a fight between the two of them. Everyone sat down on the couch or the floor, and Michael found himself sitting between Troy on his left and Dylan on his right, with Ash sitting on the floor, sort of between the tiger and coyote, making them have to move their paws so he could sit there.

As the human and the wild dog had their match, Michael found himself glancing aside at Dylan occasionally, watching him smile as he talked and joked with his friends, or the way he used his paw to lightly rub Ashley’s side or back. They all seemed so comfortable with each other. Even Troy, the only other straight guy there, was perfectly fine with any of them touching him. Aptly displayed when, after co-op fighting a bunch of random guys with boxes on their heads they’d started a fight with, Tal cheered as Troy pulled out a Super Art to finish the fight with style, and leaned over, hugging the man and kissing him on the cheek.

Michael felt odd, about it. Not uncomfortable, but something else…. It took him a moment to realize that he felt jealous, almost. Left out. He was like an island sitting on the couch, so close to them, having fun and enjoying the game, chatting and laughing. But none of them touched him. On one hand, he appreciated it. He found physical touch so stressful, jarring, when it came without warning, like a live electrical wire was being pressed against his skin. But on the other hand….

“Hey.” Dylan said, softly, and Michael glanced over at him, blinking. The coyote smiled, reaching his hand over and letting it hang in the air, nearby. “You good?”

Michael looked at him, seeing those soft eyes smiling at him, worried, and he smiled back without really meaning to. “Yeah.” He said, before reaching out and hesitantly tapping his knuckles against the canine’s. Just a brief touch, a light pressure and a warmth, a slight tingle over the fur of his hand as it stood on end for a moment, and then it was over. He found himself wishing it wasn’t.

That night, mildly buzzing from taking one of the edibles that Tal had wound up dishing out, but feeling happy and warm, he had wound himself down for bed again in the usual fashion. He was quickly finding that, even since discovering the she-wolf, Luna Lace, on YiffAxis, his libido seemed to have kicked back into gear with a vengeance. Afterwards, he lay in bed, thinking about Friday night with a sense of anticipation. He was looking forward to it. And he wondered when that had happened. When had his goal changed? He was reconciled to his life being over, already, to the only thing he could do being to apologize for what he’d done, to try and make it right.

But now, he’d done that, as best he could, and instead of there being an ending, things had just… continued. And not only that, but they’d gotten better. He was spending his days with people he could talk to, people he didn’t need to be afraid of. People who accepted him into their group, with all its weirdness, friendship, joy and, yes, trauma. But also something else, something he’d seen in their eyes when they looked at each other, the way they touched each other.

Love.

It didn’t matter whether there was anything physical between them or not, it was still there. He’d already gotten the idea that there was more than just friendship between Dylan and Ash, and it seemed maybe Tal as well. He couldn’t help but notice when he’d seen the coyote and the stoat kiss earlier. It hadn’t been anything passionate or sexual, nothing overly romantic, just a quick brush of lips, while they’d been getting the pizza Ash ordered organized in the kitchen. They had pressed against each other, the stoat nuzzling the larger man’s shoulder with a smile, before they’d looked at each and just pressed a soft kiss, without even thinking about it, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. For Michael he’d blushed and turned away, trying not to think about it, as he’d felt something burning in his gut. Not hate, or disgust, even though there was a tiny thing in his mind that felt those things. But more than that….

He’d felt that loneliness, again. Tugging at his heart. He’d been alone for so long. Even with Kelly, he’d never really had her. Never been able to hold her, talk to her, share a simple moment of intimacy like that. And, again, he’d felt separated from everyone, like they were on the other side of a window that he was looking through, but couldn’t open to get inside.

But rather than pressing him down, as he was so used to, these feelings made him feel something else, some inner fire starting to build up. His father had held him down his whole life. Pinned him down and chained him up with the shackles of conformity and filial obligation, until he’d felt like there was no chance for him to be with anyone, to have any friends, other than those his father approved of.

No chance for him to have love, or happiness, without obeying the man who ruled his life.

But here these friends were, living and loving and being happy, without needing anyone’s permission but their own. If they could do it, why couldn’t he? Especially with their help, maybe it was possible for him to actually be free of his father, one day. Step out into the world on his own and find someone, somewhere to be, where he could be happy.

He thought about all this over the next two nights, laying in bed, his mind turning all of this around like it was looking for any flaw, any potential that he was wrong, that he was still doomed, but it could not find one. He dreamed about it when he slept, about not just surviving, but really living his life, enjoying it. He stared up above his bed, as he lay there before sleep, and after waking up in the morning, at an old poster that had been there for so long it was faded and curling. For the old movie “Treasure Planet”. It had come out before he was even born, and he hadn’t seen it until he was nearly twelve, but the whole story, the main character Jim, and the soundtrack…. It had spoken to him, then, on so many levels. Not the angst and anger of a teen wanting to rebel, but the energy and joy of a youth that hadn’t given up on hope, yet. A boy who believed it was possible to get away from his problems, to find somewhere beautiful, where he could be who he wanted to be, and be accepted and loved for it.

Maybe it was time he found that hope, again.

* * * * *

Dylan fell back onto the couch, leaning his head back and catching his breath. He felt the high from Tal’s edibles, buzzing in his brain and leaving him feeling lazy and relaxed. He grinned, sitting up. It was Friday night, and he’d just got done with the final song of their first round at Amplify, belting out “Here I go Again” by Whitesnake was always a surefire way to get him needing a break for a few. He hummed softly as he looked around at his friends, seeing Michael sitting next to Troy and Tal on the couch opposite him. The group had quickly adapted to having the tiger around, knowing not to push too hard on some things, and to not touch without permission. Even Tal, who, along with Ash, tended to be the touchiest member of their group, avoided doing so. Still, there was less than six inches separating the two men on the couch, while Troy sat sideways, almost leaning on the arm of the chair so he could see them both. Michael didn’t seem uncomfortable or nervous at all. It was like all of that negative energy, all of that worry and fear and doubt and hate, had been drained out of him over the last week.

Dylan smiled wider, seeing the tiger laugh, before the knock came on the door, and Mandy hopped up, going to let the waiter in, who brought them the tray of shots. Dylan looked at her, seeing the doe come back and sit down. She had seemed much more relaxed, this time, as well, compared to last week. They’d had a talk, over the course of the week, and he’d told her about Michael apologizing to him at Mom’s Diner, a few days before. She’d seemed surprised, but pleased, somehow, and tonight he’d seen her talking with Michael softly. He’d worried, at first, but seeing Michael smiling and nodding, he’d decided to leave it be.

Now, as the shots were dished out between them, he picked his up, taking a breath and raising the glass into the air as Tal made a toast. “To us! May we never run out of smiles to give and songs to share!” They all drank, the slight tingle of alcohol running down his throat making Dylan cough a bit, before he saw Tal fish into his pocket and pull out his D20. It was such a nerdy way to play this game, and Dylan was always all in for it.

He’d asked Taliesin if they could play DnD some day, and he’d said he’d love to, but that it’d need to be a bigger group than just the two of them. A solo campaign was possible, but not always the most fun, in his opinion. Dylan wondered how hard it’d be to talk the others into joining in.

Tonight, the wild dog had a new toy he’d just got over the week to share, a dice tower that someone had 3D printed, shaped like the classic castle tower, battlements around the top, with a little ‘courtyard’ surrounded by rocks for the dice to fall in to. He tipped the die down the staircase and they heard it rattle and bounce down the steps, before shooting out of the door and into the courtyard. It spun in place a moment, before coming to a halt.

“Dylan! You get the tablet! Perfect timing!” Tal said, grinning, and the ‘yote reached out as he passed the tablet over to him. He took it, sitting back and looking at the screen, trying to think of who to pick for this. He tapped his chin with his hand, humming softly. He looked up, seeing Michael and Troy chatting quietly, the tiger grinning, looking relaxed, face mildly flushed from alcohol, eyes slightly lidded, from a mix of both it and Tal’s weed, no doubt.

“Michael.” Dylan said, not really considering anything other than wanting to hear the tiger sing. He was actually kinda good, in a raw sort of way. Certainly for the kind of music he liked, that era of rock from the 90s and 2000s, grunge and post-grunge stuff. The tiger looked up, and his face lit up, and he stood, biting his lips, looking around, before picking up the mic.

“Uh, hey, Dee?” He asked, and Dylan looked up, lifting his eyebrows. “Uh… is it okay if I pick a song I’d like to sing?” He asked, nervously. Everyone turned, their attention caught, as this was the first time Michael was volunteering to do this, having only sung what they gave him, so far.

“Sure, Mikey!” Dylan said, grinning, before getting up and walking over. “What were you wanting?” He asked, softer. The unspoken rule in this case was that you tried to keep the rest of the group from knowing the song choice, for no reason other than it was cool to see the looks on their faces, sometimes, if it was something they weren’t expecting. Dylan stepped closer, as Michael leaned over, and Dylan smelled his scent. Hibernian Spring Shampoo, simple cologne, booze and a little hint of musk. It was manly, strong, confident. Everything that Michael had always tried to present to the world as a cover for how traumatized he was underneath.

It smelled good. The thought made Dylan flush slightly, and he cleared his throat as the tiger spoke.

“Uh… this is silly.” The tiger said, shifting his weight from paw to paw, nervously.

“No, no, Michael, it’s fine. I promise, no one’s going to judge you.” The coyote said, reaching out a hand and hovering it in the air near the feline’s arm. “I promise.”

He saw Michael glance down at his hand, and Dylan heard him make a soft little noise, almost more a feeling than a sound, and realized with a start that he was purring. It only lasted a second, before it seemed like Michael pulled himself out of it, clearing his throat and glancing away, before turning back. “… I-I’m Still Here. From the Treasure Planet soundtrack? They have it, I… I checked earlier.” He said, blushing and not meeting Dylan’s gaze.

“Oh!” The coyote said, not having expected that. While it was from the rough time frame that Michael seemed to like, musically, He smiled a little, and nodded. “Okay, yeah. Sure.” He found the song, as Michael said he would, queued it up, and gave Michael a reassuring smile, before he turned and headed back to his seat. He watched as the tiger cleared his throat, and rolled his neck, taking a breath, before nodding to him with a tense smile. Without further ado, as everyone shushed up to see what Michael was going to do, he hit play.

* * * * *

Michael could feel his heart pounding his chest. What are you doing? This is stupid, and childish, and they’re going to think you’re an idiot! He squeezed his eyes shut, hearing the first drums of the song start up. No, they won’t. This is what this room is for. No better therapy, right? That’s what Tal said. He took a breath and let it out, before taking another, and raising the mic to his mouth.

At first, he was a bit stiff, his voice coming stilted and halting, but he kept his eyes shut. He’d sung this song to himself, so many times, and as long as he didn’t think too much about his situation, he found the lyrics coming naturally to him. By the time he’d finished the first verse and started on the second, he was loosening up, enough that a little touch of the hope and anger the song brought to his heart began to slip into his voice.

This only grew as he left the second verse behind, clenching one hand into a fist as he opened his eyes, stepping forward as the first chorus line began. He felt his heart, still beating, but it seemed to lift up almost in his throat. The lyrics had hope in them, but they were also begging, begging to feel something, touch something. Begging to hold on and find a place where he could feel at home and loved, before ending on a lament that the world could never know him. That it was like he wasn’t even there.

He looked down, towards his audience, finally, seeing that Ashley was bouncing in his seat slightly, face giddy with excitement, his hands clasped in front of him, almost seeming like he was struggling to not burst into song along with Michael. Mandy, sitting to the stoat’s left, was bobbing her foot up and down to the tune, a small smirk on her face as her attention drifted between him and Ash. Dylan, sitting to Ash’s right, had his hand over his mouth, eyes shining slightly as it looked like his tail was wagging behind him.

On the other side, Tal looked as excited as Ashley, a big dumb grin on his face, his head bopping to the tune, while Troy was grooving alongside him, eyes closed and smiling like he was just enjoying the moment. Michael felt himself swell up, a warm, almost weak feeling in his chest as he felt his eyes sting. He blinked, shaking his head, even as he leaned his head back and started the third verse of the song.

This part of the song addressed someone else, a third party, someone that helped him, made him see himself in a light he never had. When he was younger he’d always sung this to the sky, or the ceiling of his room rather, just hoping and praying for someone who would make him feel that way. But now, as he began to sing, looking up, he felt his breathing quicken, before he turned, looking across at Dylan, and a smile spread over his face, as he promised that no one would be able to break him down any more, as long as he knew himself.

Another chorus line, and then the bridge, and he vowed against the world, that he would not let them tell him who he could and could not be. That he would not give up on his dream, to be happy, to be whole and healed of the scars that plagued him. He knew it wasn’t that easy, he knew he was far from healed, now. But, in this room, with these people, he felt like… maybe there was a chance. He began singing the chorus again, and this seemed to be the breaking point for the poor mustelid in the room.

Ashley leaped up, snatching up the extra microphone and jumped in alongside him, belting the lyrics in that high, soft countertenor, opposite Michael’s slightly lower tenor voice. Michael smiled down at the slim little stoat, seeing the total joy and freedom on his face as he sang, and the tiger shut his eyes, feeling his smile widen further as he heard their voices intertwining sweetly on the final note, actually managing an almost perfect harmony.

As the song came to an end, he opened his eyes, seeing the big, jubilant grin on Ash’s face, just before the stoat stepped forward, looking like he was about to jump up and hug the tiger. Michael felt a flicker of sudden panic, and stepped back, and Ash blinked, his face dropping, before he held up his hands. “S-Sorry! Sorry! I wasn’t-! Sorry! I just- Michael! That was amazing!” He said, still unable to keep the smile from growing again on his face.

And Michael found himself smiling back, feeling his face heating up as he rubbed the back of his head. The others in the room were cheering, applauding, there was even a whistle from Tal, and they had all stood and come over to stand around him. In the past, this might’ve made him feel trapped, cornered… but now, he just felt warm all over, and like he couldn’t keep from grinning. “T-Thanks!” He said, turning and finding Dylan, who was still sitting on the couch. The coyote was smiling, broadly, one hand still covering his mouth, but his shoulders shook slightly, and the tiger could see his fur glistening under his eyes.

He frowned, taking a step towards the canine, and everyone went quiet as they turned and saw him. Michael hesitated. Should he be the one going over? What if Dylan took it wrong? Why was he crying? Had the tiger done something wrong?

“Dee, are you okay?” Mandy asked, brushing past Michael quickly and going over to kneel down beside her friend, leaving him just standing there, frozen, not knowing what to do. The tiger blinked, clenching his teeth, and wondering at the immediate feeling of self-chastisement he felt, for not moving quicker.

Dylan nodded, smiling. “Y-Yeah! Yeah, no, I’m fine! I just….” He looked up at Michael and his smile widened, even as he swallowed down a sob. “I-I’m just so happy f-for you, Michael! You’re not… You’re not who you used to be.” He said, reaching up and wiping his eyes. “You’re not. And you… you’re not alone, ya know?” He cleared his throat and looked away, his dark fur still glittering with trapped tears, before he looked back up at the tiger. “I’m just… I’m really happy, to see you being so happy. I hated, knowing how much you were hurting, and you already look so much better.”

Michael blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean… I’m still not where I’d like to be. I know it’s going to take a long time, for me to really get over a lot of it. But… Just having you, all of you, here… it helps.” He said, smiling awkwardly. “I know I was an asshole, but you’ve all let me in, and let me… be a part of all this with you, and… without you, I don’t….” He hesitated, before shaking his head, dislodging the thoughts of that night on the old bridge from his mind. “I don’t know where I’d be, right now, but I know… I don’t think….” He stammered, faltering, unsure of what to say.

“Hey, could I, like… Could I hug you, Mike?” Ash asked, and the tiger looked at him, blinking in surprise as the little stoat stood there, arm across his stomach. He was wearing a cropped tanktop tonight, and a pair of what Michael had heard him call “boy shorts” though they looked very short and girlish, for that. The tiger hesitated, and the stoat lowered his head, tail drooping a bit, as the feline glanced at the others, at Dylan. The coyote looked at him, tilting his head with a sad expression, and flicked his big, gold eyes to the stoat for a moment, before meeting the cat’s eyes again.

Michael took a breath, closing his eyes, feeling that sense of loneliness, lingering at the back of his thoughts, as it so often did. The feeling of Dylan’s light, brief touch on his hand, there and gone too soon. Of being an island in the middle of them, as they all stayed touching, but he drifted, unconnected and alone, through the ocean.

“Yeah.” He heard himself say, opening his eyes, as he looked down, seeing the surprise on Ash’s face. “Just… Just, like… nothing freaky, right? Just a hug?” He said, and watched the smile bloom on the smaller man’s face, before Ashley nodded vigorously.

“Yes! Just a hug, I promise! I just want you to know… that you’re our friend, ya know?” The stoat said, cocking his hip slightly, hands clasped in front of him, and Michael took a breath and let it out.

That voice was screaming something, buried at the back of his mind, under the weight of the loneliness and the longing for connection, for touch and affection. He brushed it aside, burying it further, and smiled, a little tightly, but still a genuine smile, and nodded. “Then, yeah, Ash. You can give me a hug.”

Ashley grinned, before stepping up to Michael. The tiger swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, but he ignored it, clearing his throat and awkwardly opening his arms. He wasn’t… totally sure how to do something like this, but quickly found that he didn’t need to worry about it, as Ashley didn’t wait for any further invitation. The small mustelid stepped in, wrapping his arms around the bigger man’s chest. There was an electric feeling, at that first contact, that made Michael suck in a breath and stiffen up, waiting for that almost painful shock. But, it didn’t come, instead that feeling simply died down to a tingling, warm sensation that spread out over him, as Ashley pressed his slender body against Michael’s much larger frame, his hands on the tiger’s back, pulling him in close. The stoat pressed the side of his face against Michael’s chest, laying it there as he held him.

Michael’s breath felt like it was stuck in his throat, even as his heart pounded hard and fast in his chest, like he’d just run a marathon. He slowly lowered and closed his arms, hesitating for a moment, before closing that final gap, letting them come to rest on Ash’s slender frame, gently, as though afraid of breaking the small mustelid. Ash hummed softly, pulling on him, squeezing him tightly to him for a moment, his slim, soft body so warm against the tiger. Michael felt a flush spread over his face and, to his sudden panic, he felt that warmth begin to flow down, towards his crotch.

He cleared his throat, putting his hands on Ash’s shoulders and pushing on him. The stoat didn’t fight, only making a small sound of surprise, before stepping back quickly, breaking the hug. “Oh, uh. Sorry! Too tight? Too much? I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine!” Michael said, stepping back quickly and turning partially away. He stopped, though, looking back at Ash. What just happened? Was he starting to get… no. No. But he still felt it, a soft warmth, resting low in his stomach and loins, waiting for more, to wake it up. He was straight, though. But, I mean… Ash _ does _ look like a girl! Felt like one, too… I had to keep reminding myself, the first time we hung out, that he wasn’t! Maybe… yeah, my body just still hasn’t gotten the memo. That’s all it was.

Taking a breath and letting it out, he gave an awkward smile to the stoat, who looked a little forlorn. “Thank, Ashley.” He said, nodding, and the mustelid brightened up a bit, even as they returned to their seats. He saw Dylan watching him, a warm, happy smile on his face, and he felt his heart stutter for a moment, and he smiled back at him, nodding to him.

With a smile that was only a little awkward, still blushing slightly, he looked around at everyone. “So… Who’s next?”

* * * * *

Some people, not part of their friend group, often wondered how it was that Dylan avoided having a hangover in the morning, after spending all night partying at Amplify. Most thought that he must really be able to hold his liquor, or that he had a lot of experience in knowing how to avoid such things. But, the truth was much simpler; he didn’t drink as much as people thought he did, when he was out. He had gotten fully drunk, the very first night Ash and Tal had brought him and Mandy to Amplify, and he regretted it the next morning. So, from then on, he’d always gone and spoken with the bartender, and set up a little deal with them: Whenever they got the order for jell-o shots from the booth his group was in, one glass should be marked with a sticker or sitting on a colored napkin, something to make it easy to tell apart from the others. That glass was to have only the smallest amount of alcohol in it, with the rest of the liquid being soda of some kind, before being mixed with the jello. Other than that, he drank beer, but only sipped it. One bottle would likely last him half the night, typically.

He had watched what alcohol had done to his father. Both what it turned him into, and how it had taken his life away, one drink at a time. He had sworn a long, long time ago that he would never allow that to happen to him. That he would lock himself in a church before letting it twist him into something he wasn’t. And he stuck to those guns, no matter what. His friends knew this, of course, and they accepted it. They did not bring it up, allowing them all the illusion that Dylan was drinking right along with them.

As such, he was only mildly buzzed, really, when he got out of the car in front of his Mom’s house, feeling relaxed and mellow, albeit a bit hungry as the munchies started setting in, from the gummy he’d had. He’d opted to just be taken home tonight, as opposed to staying over with Ash. The stoat had understood, some nights the ‘yote just wanted to be at home where he could chill by himself listening to some music and sleep things off.

“This is your house?” He heard Michael ask from behind him, the tiger’s voice slurring slightly, as he was quite drunk and he’d also taken a second gummy from Tal at some point, which Dylan had thought was maybe not the best of ideas. The coyote turned around, looking at the man leaning partially out of the passenger side window of Mandy’s car, and smiled at him.

“Well, it’s my Mom’s place, but I live here, so… yeah.” Dylan said, smiling. “You should… come over, some time. I bet my Mom would like to meet you.” He said, putting a hand on top of the car as he leaned over, smiling.

“O-Oh, yeah! Totally!” Michael said, grinning, face flushed. “Uh… H-Hey, you gonna pick me up to get my car tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, Mikey.” Dylan said, smiling. “Of course!”

“Sweet! Thanks, Dill~” The tiger said, smiling up at him still. Their eyes met and Dylan felt a little flutter in his chest, and bit his lip, before he smiled and stepped back.

“Not a problem, Mikey. Okay, Mans, get him home safe, and yourself!” He said, blowing a kiss to his best friend. “Love you!” He said, waving as she made some joke he couldn’t quite hear over the sound of the engine and drove off. Michael looked at him as the car pulled away, before turning back into the car. And then they were gone, off into the night.

Dylan took a breath of the soft, early summer night air, and put his hand in his pocket, fishing for his keys as he turned and walked up the path. The front lawn of his Mom’s place was a warren of lawn ornaments; gnomes, a bird bath and a whole family of feral coyote statues, while the large old oak tree was festooned with bird feeders and wind chimes, a pair of lawn chairs set up around a small table under its shaded boughs.

Her little Kia was parked in the driveway, alongside Dylan’s Nissan, as the garage was used mainly for storage, since Dylan had taken over the loft as his room, when they first moved in. Frequently, his thoughts would find themselves spiraling down a rabbit hole, when he began thinking about that time in his life, lingering on the troubles and hardships he’d had then. But not tonight. Tonight, his heart and mind were aglow with a warmth that made it impossible for him to keep a smile off his face.

He unlocked the front door and stepped inside, hearing silence except for the soft hum of the fan his Mom slept with, a habit he himself had developed years ago. He smiled and shut the door, locking it back. He made his way into the kitchen, paw pads tapping softly on the tile floor as he went to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water, before turning and grabbing a banana out of a bowl on the counter. He ate the fruit, drinking half the bottle of water in the process, before throwing the peel away and heading for the bathroom.

He finished off his water on the way, throwing the bottle in the trash, and then relieved himself, before brushing his teeth thoroughly. He found himself humming softly, tail wagging as his hips swayed back and forth, and he looked at himself in the mirror, tilting his head this way and that. Some people thought coyotes were ugly. He had never let those people get to him, though, and as far as he was concerned anyone that thought that way was blind or in denial. The sleek, slender muzzle, the expressive ears, the thick, soft fur. He didn’t put the kind of work into his appearance that Ash did, but he still cared, enough to take the time to trim his fur and spend the money on decent shampoo and conditioner. Not an all-in-one, either, that stuff was a scam.

He smiled, slightly, looking at himself. He wasn’t overly egotistical or anything, but he liked to appreciate himself, sometimes. It helped, when he wasn’t feeling very confident, to remind himself that he was an attractive canine. Why would I be feeling self-conscious right now, though? He wasn’t sure, and the thought teased the edges of his mind, even as he shook himself out of it, turning and heading down the hall, to the stairs up into the loft.

Though technically part of a trapdoor, it was never shut, and his Mom had paid some folks to do some work on the loft, not long after they’d moved in, back when she left his Dad. He climbed the stairs, coming up into a small, walled off ‘foyer’ for lack of a better term, decorated with a small side table under the window that looked out over the street below, and then turned, heading over to the door into his room.

Opening it up, he stepped into the main body of the loft, a room about twenty feet wide, though the walls slanted inwards to a peak, while the room ran about thirty or forty feet back, following the length of the house. He walked into the first section, a small study area, split down the middle by a long couch which sat in front of a low coffee table, facing a TV hung high on the angled wall, facing down towards it, a low entertainment center holding a PawStation 5 and a Neightendo Switch. Behind the sofa, in the angle made by the added wall, was a corner desk and cozy chair, Dylan’s PC sitting on it, quiet and still, at the moment. He padded past the couch, running his hand over the back of it and taking a breath as he stepped over to the ‘doorway’, made by leaving a four foot gap between a large wardrobe and a bookshelf, that separated this area from his actual bedroom. The shelf had plenty of books on it, along with a record collection, some figurines, nick-knacks and other things, which mirrored the clutter of wotnots and stuff that was scattered throughout the room.

He came to a slow stop, under a cross-beam that ran from one side of the room to the other, just above the doorway. He took another soothing breath, looking up at the dreamcatcher that hung from it, now. A magic item, supposedly, meant to capture bad dreams and stop them from plaguing the person who slept beneath it. When he was eighteen, something else had nearly been hanging from this beam, once…. “ __I’m really glad that… that you are here, now._ ”_ He remembered Michael’s soft words, in the diner last week, and felt his heart swell, a smile pulling his lips up, and his thoughts roe back up out of the darkness of the past.

He slipped his t-shirt off over his head, draping it over the back of his sofa, before stepping through the doorway, one hand reaching up to lightly brush over the feathers dangling from the dreamcatcher. A full size bed was turned sideways against the back wall, just under the window that looked down over the backyard, currently covered over by dark curtains. A large pole fan sat in one corner, which he walked over and turned on, the hum and the breeze filling the space quickly. He took a breath, stretching, arms above his head, groaning happily, still humming softly. The muscles stood out under his fur as he did so, rolling his neck back and forth, feeling it pop slightly. He ran his hands down over his body, loosening the button on his skinny jeans and unzipping them. He pushed them down, slipping his tail out of its loop as he went, and stepped out of them, leaving him only wearing his underwear, a pair of soft, rose colored briefs with the word ‘Puppy’ repeating around the waistband, a gift from Ashley.

He slipped those off, too, and hung both from hooks on the back of his closer door, before turning and walking back his bed. He sat down on the side of it, smiling as he reached up, taking off his choker and laying it on the table by the head of his bed, next to a small wooden bowl. He then reached up and took out his earrings one at a time, dropping them in the bowl. He slid his hands down to his chest, feeling the piercings in his nipples. They’d taken a while to get used to, but as he’d been told not to remove them for about a year after getting them, he hadn’t had a choice. Now, the few times he took them out to clean them, it felt weird not having them in. The same was true for the navel piercing he had, a small silver stud with a dangling turquoise bead. Smiling softly, he stretched again, yawning, and turned, slipping under the blankets and biting his lip.

He rubbed his paws together, feeling the smooth, soft pads of one stroking the fur on the back of the other and shivered happily at the feeling. He rolled over, fluffing his pillow, before nuzzling his face into it. As he was drifting off to sleep, he caught just the faintest hint of the smell of Hibernian Spring and musk, and shivered again. “G’night, Michael~” He muttered, softly to himself, hoping the tiger was comfortable and sleeping well, tonight. He closed his eyes, drifting off to the land of dreams with a pleasant smile on his face.