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Wolves 1:

Just Like A Fairy Tale

By WhiteClaw

Michael Hall winced as he poured the hydrogen peroxide onto his hands. He watched as it bubbled and

foamed over the cuts and scrapes on his knuckles and gritted his teeth as his hands began to hum with pain.

This was an old routine for him. The opening rights of winter when the cold air started chapping his hands

and caused them to crack and bleed.

Carefully he ran hot water over his hands, dried them, and rubbed lotion over the cuts. He reached out to

grab the bottle of peroxide, but his hands were still greasy from the lotion. The bottle slipped from his

grasp and onto the floor, spraying the clear liquid across the bathroom as it crashed.

Mike gritted his teeth even harder. As if his day hadn't been going bad enough as it was, now this had to

happen.

"Damn it," Mike cursed under his breath as he grabbed a towel and bent to clean up the mess.

He apparently hadn't said it quietly enough for his roommate's sensitive ears, because Jeffery nudged open

the door a moment later.

"What's going--oh," he said.

Mike felt his entire face go red as Jeffery spoke. He already felt like an idiot for spilling the bottle, but now

he had an audience. For some reason the fact that it was Jeffery made it even worse.

Just standing there, Jeffery seemed to embody everything that Mike wasn't. He was tall, well muscled--

Hell, he was built like a linebacker--handsome, and one of those all around nice guys that everybody

tended to get along with.

Mike, however, was about two inches shorter than everybody he knew (including Jeffery) and had dark

brown hair with hazel eyes. His face itself would have been cute if he actually smiled once in a while, but

instead he seemed to have a permanent angry or distant look. And rather than being well muscled, he was

lean and toned, a fact combined with his size that would've, again, made him attractive if it wasn't for his

attitude.

Jeffery delicately reached down with his white paw and lifted the now half-empty bottle off the floor.

Carefully he set it on the bathroom counter in an attempt to save at least some of its contents.

That was the other thing about Jeffery: He was a wolf.

With body fur that was shockingly white and dark blond hair that hung down to his shoulders, the only

thing more attractive about him was the deep, soft blue of his eyes.

Somehow they'd survived the larger chunk of their first semester together and, as strange as it sounded,

managed to get along pretty well. They had even started to become pretty good friends.

Well, maybe the good friends part was stretching it a bit, but at least they got along alright.

Jeffery grabbed a towel and bent down to help Mike with the cleanup. "Having a party without me?"

Jeffery said with grin. It was a grin that was strangely charming and scary at the same time, mainly since

Jeffery tended to show a few too many teeth for a person to feel very comfortable.

"Hardly," Mike said dryly, but regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. For some reason Jeffery

was much more sensitive about little things like that, even though Mike hadn't really meant anything by it.

That's right, Mike, just insult the person who you're probably going to spend the entire next semester with.

"Thanks," he said, trying to sound apologetic. "I mean for helping."

"No prob.," Jeffery said.

They continued cleaning in silence for the next few minutes until Jeffery finally stood up and tossed his

now soaking towel into the hamper. Mike stood up, too. The rest wasn't going to come up unless they

brought a mop in here and neither of them were going to go through that much trouble for something that

was going to dry itself in about an hour or two anyway.

Jeffery reached out to take Mike's towel from him and noticed the cuts and scrapes on his hand. "What

happened?" he said, tossing the other towel into the hamper with one paw and grabbing Mike's hand with

the other.

"Um, nothing," Mike said, trying to pull his hand back from Jeffery so he could shove it into his pocket.

He didn't want Jeffery to think he couldn't handle a little cold whether without falling to pieces. Dry, flaky

pieces to be exact.

"This isn't nothing," Jeffery growled, examining the hand from different angles. Mike's skin was light,

pale even, but had a hint of darkness that suggested it would tan in the summer. But around his knuckles

and the lower parts of his fingers there were swirls of red and purple, touched with flecks of white where

dead skin had begun to come off.

Not exactly an appealing image.

Jeffery lowered his head more, letting his nose hover just above the skin.

Mike bore this without flinching, having long since grown used to the fact that Jeffery preferred to let his

nose do the "looking" instead of his eyes.

Jeffery gave a light sniff, then breathed more deeply and pulled back in surprise. "Chocolate?" he said,

looking up at Mike with a raised eyebrow. Or rather a raised patch of fur where an eyebrow probably

would have been.

Why God, why? Mike thought as he felt all the blood rush to his face. In his embarrassment he managed to

choke out, "It--It's lotion...to help with chapped..." He's covered in fur, idiot. He probably doesn't even

know what chapped means. "...hands," he finished lamely.

He doesn't have those, either, a little voice reminded him. He has paws.

Oh, shut up, he yelled back at it.

During Mike's little internal exchange, he hadn't noticed that Jeffery had decided to continue his olfactory

sightseeing, letting his nose travel up past Mike's wrist and onto his exposed forearm. It was finally

brought to his attention when he became conscious of a faint tickling sensation on his skin. Confused, he

looked down and stared at Jeffery.

As if he had suddenly become aware of Mike's gaze, Jeffery started and quickly pulled back.

Mike continued to stare while somewhere in the back of his mind the same voice from before began to sing

the theme from the Twilight Zone.

What had just happened here? And was Jeffery blushing? On his ears where Jeffery's fur was the thinnest,

the color of the skin tended to bleed through, and right now both his ears were bright red. But that could

probably mean anything, and despite their time together, Mike was still baffled when it came to reading

Jeffery's body language.

Jeffery let go of Mike's hand and they both hesitated, unsure of what to do.

"Um, I'll just..." Mike said, reaching for the bottle of peroxide on the counter.

"Oh no, I can get it," Jeffery said, reaching for it. Their hands briefly brushed against one another, and they

both pulled back as if suddenly afraid of the other's touch. "I'll get it," Jeffery repeated, and reached for

the bottle again.

Calm down, caffeine boy, Mike told himself. "Uh, thanks," Mike said, as Jeffery replaced the cap on the

bottle and set it down in the cabinet under the sink.

"Are you, um, going out?" Jeffery asked, noticing for the first time that Mike was dressed in all black, his

usual outfit for when he went out.

Finally, Mike thought, a normal conversation. "Yeah, I'm just going out with some friends. I'll probably

be back before eleven."

"Okay," Jeffery said, moving out of the bathroom and to the side, careful to leave enough space so that

their bodies didn't make contact as Mike passed. "I'll probably still be up," he added.

Do Do Dee Do, Do Do Dee Do--Stop that! Mike yelled at the voice.

"Um...okay, well I'll see you later," Mike said.

Mike headed for the door a bit more quickly than was polite. He suddenly needed to get out this room and

just have a normal evening with his friends. He reached out blindly for his jacket and without noticing,

accidentally grabbed Jeffery's instead.

Jeffery started to say something, but with a quick "bye" Mike was out the door and gone.

* * *

After Mike had left, Jeffery briefly considered grabbing Mike's jacket and running out after him, but at the

pace he'd been going, he was probably long gone by now.

Jeffery wandered back into the bathroom and glared at himself in the mirror for a few moments. He briefly

considered just banging his head against the bathroom counter in frustration, but instead he slammed his

own paw hard against his forehead and sighed.

"Damn it," he swore, "I'm such an idiot." He couldn't believe he'd lost control of himself like that, but

being so close to Mike had completely fried his senses. Without thinking he'd let his nose take control.

But, oh, the smell of Mike's skin had been so good it had almost been worth it. He still remembered the

scent; it reminded him of burnt wood and dry leaves with a faint hint of something else that was sweet, like

honey. The smell had been intoxicating, and Jeffery had savored it as it flowed through his nostrils and

filled his nose.

But the cost had been high. Yet again, he'd made himself look like an idiot in front of Mike.

With another sigh, he walked back to the front door and opened it just enough so that he could stick his

head out. He scanned both ends of the hallway, wondering if maybe Mike might suddenly realize that he'd

grabbed the wrong jacket and decide to come back. Actually with the way things were going, he wondered

if Mike would ever come back at all.

But there was no sign of anyone in the hall. Jeffery sniffed experimentally, but there were too many

different smells to pinpoint Mike's.

He pulled his head back into the room and locked the door just in case. Mike had a key to get back in if he

needed to. As an extra precaution Jeffery walked over and drew the blinds on the widow. There was little

chance of someone seeing him through the window, since they lived three stories up, but Jeffery didn't

want to take any chances.

When he was sure that he wouldn't be disturbed, he walked over to Mike's dresser and took out a pair of

Mike's boxers. He brought them close to his nose and took a deep breath. Like any other college guy,

Mike jacked off on a regular basis, sometimes creaming his boxers in the process. Jeffery would have

loved to get his paws on a fresh pair, but even washed the boxers still held the sweet scent of Mike's seed.

A familiar stirring in his crotch told him he couldn't wait any longer. He laid the boxers aside while he

lifted off his shirt and undid his pants, sliding both his jeans and his own boxers down to his knees. Then

he picked up Mike's boxers in one paw and placed his other paw on his cock.

With slow even strokes he brought himself to full attention, all the while holding Mike's boxers close to his

nose. His fully extended cock, sheath included, was almost seven inches long, average for a wolf but still

very impressive. As he began to stroke himself harder, his breathing became shallower, his nose taking in

Mike's scent with every breath.

He imagined it was Mike's hand on his cock now, stroking and squeezing him, forcing out little beads of

precum as Mike's own hard member forced it's way into Jeffery's ass. He was lost in ecstasy imagining

that moment when they would finally make love.

Oh Mike, he thought, letting out a low moan. "Yes, harder!" he breathed, his voice just barely audible.

"Oh Mike, yes, yes, yes..." Jeffery moaned again, only distantly aware that he was speaking the words

aloud now.

His mental image suddenly shifted positions, and now he was the one inside, forcing his cock into Mike

and holding him close to his chest as they both rocked back and forth, propelled by the force of Jeffery's

strokes. The image was so powerful that Jeffery's hips began to buck in response, desperately reaching for

Mike's body.

His mind continued to create dozens of different positions, each one bringing Jeffery closer than the last.

His need to cum had completely consumed him now. He finally poured all his concentration into creating

the most vivid image he could imagine.

Mike lay on his back on the floor before Jeffery. Every detail from the dark patch of hair around Mike's

naval to the smile of pleasure on his face was crystal clear. He held both his legs up and spread apart,

exposing his ass to Jeffery's cock. Jeffery hovered over him and pushed forward gently, letting his entire

length enter Mike in that one thrust. As Jeffery began to slide himself in and out, he leaned down closer so

that their faces were barely centimeters apart. He could feel Mike's hot breath on his face, see the beads of

sweat that formed on Mike's brow. Every look and gesture screamed of need and begged Jeffery not to

stop. But Jeffery was too close to stop now, even he had wanted to. With a final thrust, Jeffery's lips

pressed against Mike's as a torrent of wolf cum filled Mike's ass and carried them both into the heights of

orgasm.

As Jeffery came back down from the dazzling lights of pleasure, the vision faded. With his normal sight

restored, he quickly realized that he'd actually cummed, filling his paw with the sticky substance and

spraying both his chest and stomach with wolf seed. After a careful inspection to make sure Mike's boxers

were untouched, Jeffery set them on the floor and got up to make his way to the bathroom.

Once there, he gently wiped the fur on his chest and stomach with a wet rag. His paw he licked clean,

washing it in the sink only after he'd gotten up as much as he could with his tongue. When he was finally

clean, he tossed the rag in the hamper and pulled up his pants.

His shirt lay on the floor where he'd tossed it, but he felt too hot to put it back on. Instead he bent down

and refolded Mike's boxers, putting them back in the dresser where he'd found them.

Exhausted, he collapsed on his bed, but couldn't seem to fall asleep. Instead he let his mind wander. With

the last traces of his orgasm fading, a familiar feeling of disappointment washed over him. He felt the

sudden need to curl up in the fetal position, but the weight of his depression settled on his chest, pinning

him down.

As always, his thoughts turned to Mike, and he wondered just what it was about this strange and enigmatic

person that he found so attractive.

Jeffery had no doubt that he was gay. In fact college was where he had planned to finally come out the

closet. But then he'd met Mike. Jeffery had taken an instant liking to Mike the very first day they'd met.

A liking that had bloomed into a full-fledged crush in a matter of only a few hours. And a crush that had

clamped Jeffery's mouth shut tighter than a muzzle when it came to his coming out plan. Because now

that'd he met Mike, he couldn't risk doing anything that might push him away.

It only Mike hadn't been his roommate. Maybe then Jeffery could have come out first, before ever meeting

him.

But on the flip side, if he and Mike hadn't been roommates, they would have probably never gotten to

know one another as well as they did.

Jeffery, however, didn't find the irony all that amusing. Still, he wondered what his life would have been

like if he'd never met Mike and been able to just come out from the beginning. Would he have met

someone else? It was hard to imagine ever meeting someone he felt the same way about as he did Mike.

But at least then he wouldn't know what he was missing.

Ignorance is bliss, he thought. But it was too late to change any of that. Mike was now a part of his life.

And with the way things were going, he was going to be a part of his past come the end of this semester.

Even if Mike decided to stay through the rest of the second semester, he doubted they'd be roommates

again next year. And what would it matter if they were? Jeffery still wouldn't been able to come out to

Mike. He'd just spend another year hopelessly fantasizing and secretly jacking off to the smell of Mike's

boxers.

He felt a slight stirring in his crotch at the memory of Mike's scent but fought down the urge to get out

Mike's boxers again. Instead he tried unsuccessfully to think of a way to tell Mike about his feelings. But

no matter what, he couldn't figure out what to say. Even worse was the fact that they lived together. What

was Jeffery supposed to do if Mike couldn't handle the news?

No, if Jeffery told him, it had to be somewhere other than the dorm room.

Like the mall, perhaps? he wondered. Mike was probably there, right now. It could work if Jeffery

actually followed through with it. But deep down, he knew that he'd chicken out once he made it there.

And then what? What would he say if Mike saw him?

Jeffery's eyes strayed to the jacket. The memory of Mike's hasty departure came back to him as fresh and

painful as if it were all happening again.

Jeffery rolled over so that he was lying face down in the bed. "He hates me," he moaned into the sheets. It

wasn't just fear of rejection that stalled his attempts at coming out to Mike, it was the fear that Mike would

hate him. Hate him because he was gay.

If he'd been able to keep his cool around Mike, he probably could have found a non-threatening way to

bring up the subject, just to see how Mike would react. But everything about Mike excited him until he

couldn't think straight (in more ways than one), and more than anything he wanted to tell Mike how he

felt...to tell Mike that he loved him.

But it was just so hard. So hard to just admit to Mike that he was gay. If he couldn't say even that, how

was he ever going to tell Mike about his feelings?

He felt the hopelessness well up inside of him in the form of a sob. It tried to escape his throat, but he

clamped his mouth shut and forced it back down. Crying won't help, he tried to tell himself, but he could

already feel the tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

He needed to think about something else. Anything else. If he started crying now, he might never stop,

and then he really wouldn't be able to explain himself when Mike finally got back.

Mike! With a start Jeffery sat up in bed and glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. It was late, later

than he'd thought. He'd wasted an entire hour lying on his bed and feeling sorry for himself. Not to

mention his earlier activities.

Mike would be back soon.

Jeffery's gaze drifted back to the jacket. Something had been forming at the back of his mind, and as he

stared at the jacket, he realized it was a plan. If he went now, he could still catch Mike at the mall. All he

had to do was take the jacket with him. Even if he couldn't bring himself to tell Mike the truth, he'd still

have an excuse for being there. It'd be a lame excuse, but it could still work.

A strange feeling of excitement began to fill him. Yes, it could work. Sliding off his bed, he picked his

shirt up off the floor, and quickly pulled it on. As he grabbed Mike's jacket, he let his real plan hover at the

edge of his mind. If he didn't think about it too much, maybe it wouldn't be so hard.

Jeffery started to pull the jacket on then stopped. On a whim he sniffed the jacket's inner lining and was

rewarded with Mike's scent, fresh and strong. Satisfied, he pulled the jacket on over his shirt enjoying the

comfortable feel of wearing something of Mike's.

Mike had a habit of wearing all of his clothes loose and oversized, preferring a slightly more laid back feel.

Jeffery, however, preferred to wear his clothes to a perfect fit or even sometimes too tight. The result was

that they wore the same size in almost everything despite their difference in height.

Jeffery reached his paws into the jacket's pockets and pulled out a pair of gloves. He brought them to his

nose and sniffed them, allowing himself a brief chuckle. The gloves smelled of Mike's own scent and

chocolate, no doubt the result of his hand lotion. Jeffery smiled wistfully and replaced them.

He then reached for the collar and pulled it up, once again pressing his nose against the jacket's interior

lining. For luck, he thought as he breathed Mike's scent one more time.

The tightness of Jeffery's pants reminded him that Mike's boxers were only a few steps away. "Later," he

told himself, not daring to voice his fear that there would be no later.

Instead he tried to think about what he'd say when he finally got there. But the thought of actually seeing

Mike prompted Jeffery's erection to throb even more until it was a dull ache.

Jeffery unlocked the door and then relocked it as he hurried out into the hall, the heat from his erection

already spreading through his crotch. Oh Lord, I'll probably jump him before I can get out two words,

Jeffery thought, as he headed down the stairs two at a time.

* * *

True to Jeffery's prediction, Mike was indeed at the mall.

He was currently sitting at a table in the food court across from Connie and Tracy. The original plan for

the evening had involved going to see a movie, but that had gotten lost somewhere in the shuffle of friends

that had arrived and the different stores that they had each wanted to stop at first.

By the time everyone had finished shopping, the movie was over. With nothing else to do, they'd

continued to hang out at the mall until one by one each friend had claimed early classes tomorrow and

professed tiredness. The three of them were now the only ones left.

But Mike didn't care. He lived for the thrill of the nightlife whether he was with two friends or ten. And if

everyone else left and it was just him, then he'd make his own fun.

Except that tonight he wasn't having much fun, and the nightlife was failing to thrill him.

Ever since his rather hasty escape from his dorm room and Jeffery, the little voice in the back of his head

had been telling him things that he didn't want to hear. For the most part, Mike had tuned it out, but when

the voice had realized he wasn't listening, it had started showing him pictures instead.

Here was the scene in the bathroom. And here was the embarrassment he'd felt when Jeffery had noticed

his hands. And now he felt the strong grip of Jeffery's paw on his wrist. The slight tickling sensation of

Jeffery's nose as it breathed in the scent of his skin. Jeffery suddenly standing up to press his body very

close to Mike's. The feel of Jeffery's breath on his face as Jeffery leaned in to--Wait, that never

happened!

Mike shook his head, clearing the disturbing images from his mind and bringing him back down to reality

just in time to hear the tail end of a conversation.

"I can't believe that," Connie was saying in a hushed voice. "You'd think they wouldn't allow it."

Tracy, who was sitting right next to Connie, was calmly listening to her, a blank expression on her face. If

she had an opinion on whatever Connie was saying, she apparently didn't feel the need to offer it.

Mike decided to brave the consequences and asked, "What are you talking about?"

Obviously annoyed, Connie turned the weight of her full attention on Mike. "Geez, Mike, live in the

present for once," she said, contempt filling her voice.

Why do I put up with her? he silently wondered and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Sorry," he said

through clenched teeth. "But what were you talking about?"

An obvious struggle took place as Connie was torn between pride and gossip and tried to decide whether

she should refuse to tell Mike or pass the information along in an attempt to sway Mike to her view of

reality. In the end, gossip won.

She cocked her head over to the left and made a casual gesture towards the McDonalds. Mike turned to

look in the direction Connie indicated but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. "What?" he said, turning

back to face her.

Connie rolled her eyes, and Mike bit back a stinging reply. He knew Connie wasn't worth it, but

sometimes he just ached to stand up and beat the smugness right out of her. Of course, he'd do it with

words and not his actual fists, but the desire was the same either way.

As usual Connie was completely oblivious to any of this. As a person she was pretty, blond, and a well-

known gossip, all of which were qualities that would have allowed her to fit in perfectly with the more

popular groups that hung around campus. Except for one gross oversight in the makeup of her personal

character: She was quite possibly the most selfish person alive.

It wasn't something that you noticed right off. At first glance she looked just like any other person and

even seemed quite pleasant at times. But if you looked close enough, you could see how the true

immensity of her selfishness had twisted her features into something that could no longer be called pretty.

The result was that her only friends (if they could be called even that) were by default among the

emotionally crippled and Mike and Tracy both fell into that category.

Mike himself had earned a reputation for a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue. He was the classic

wisecracker, who wore all black and seemed to be constantly angry. But what most people didn't know

was that the greater bulk of that anger was turned inward at himself, because deep down Mike felt that

there was something wrong with him, though he couldn't quite describe what it was.

Tracy, however, was a typical wallflower. Or at least looked like one. But in truth she had two faces. One

was the closed expression and quiet voice that she wore now. A side of herself that she seemed to show

more for Connie's benefit than Mike's.

Tracy's other side, however, was wild and energetic. The same long brown hair and tan skin that made her

more boring side less noticeable, could turn her into a beautiful queen of action and danger when the night

came.

But Connie's presence seemed to halt that change as Tracy turned ever more inward as the night

progressed, lost in her own thoughts.

"The guy behind the counter," Connie said, managing to sound exasperated, even though she was

whispering.

Mike glanced at the aforementioned "guy" noting that there was nothing exceptional about him. He was

maybe an inch or two taller than Mike and from the bored expression on his face, working at McDonalds

wasn't his lifelong dream. Other than that, Mike didn't notice anything special about him.

Well, other than the fact that he was actually an otter and not a human being.

Mike glanced back at Tracy, hoping she might give him some clue as to what he was looking for, but Tracy

still kept her expression blank. Mike sighed and turned back to Connie. "Okay, I'll bite. What am I

looking for here?"

"What do you mean?" Connie practically shrieked. Her voice dropped back down to her version of a

whisper, which wasn't all that quiet. "He's a freaking otter!"

A couple at a nearby table glanced at her, then suddenly got up and walked away.

Mike felt his cheeks go red with shame as he tried to sink down lower in his seat. He could only hope that

no one else was close enough to hear their conversation. "So what?" he said, barely keeping the anger out

of his voice.

"Ugh," Connie said and turned away.

Tracy, who suddenly seemed to become animated, leaned in across the table. "Connie seems to think that

he shouldn't be allowed to serve food," Tracy said, her voice so low that Mike had to lean in just to make

out the words. Either Tracy had noticed the couple leaving and was trying to keep anyone else from

hearing, or she was hoping Connie wouldn't hear the disapproval in her voice. "Something about it being

unsanitary," she added.

"Well it is!" Connie said, wrinkling her nose.

Tracy gritted her teeth but said nothing else. Mike was starting to think that that was probably the best

policy here, since Connie was just being unreasonable. But the same of part of his mind that had been

pestering him all night with strange images was suddenly rising up in righteous indignation.

"In case you've forgotten," Mike said casually, "I do live with a werewolf."

Connie rolled her eyes again, and Mike truly had to hold himself back from letting loose a barrage of

insults. "That's different," Connie said.

Mike was silent for a minute, waiting to see if something else was coming. When nothing did, he stared at

Connie incredulously and said, "How?"

"Ugh!" Connie said, pushing herself back from the table and standing. "It's late anyway," she said

haughtily. "C'mon Tracy."

Tracy gave Mike a desperate look but Mike just shrugged helplessly. Connie and Tracy were roommates

and Mike couldn't think of any tactful way of offering to take Tracy home without it being obvious she

didn't want to ride in the car with Connie.

Reluctantly, Tracy got up, while Mike mouthed the word "sorry" to her. Tracy brushed it off with a wave

of her hand. They both knew that Connie would be over whatever had caused this little outburst in under

an hour. It was just going to be one hell of an hour.

Tracy jogged to catch up with Connie, and Mike watched them as they turned the corner, Connie talking a

mile a minute and Tracy's face once again impassive.

Mike glanced over at the McDonalds and noticed the otter guy had left. The lights over the counter had

also been dimmed. Mike checked his watch. Nine forty-five. The mall officially closed at ten, but most of

the stores had already shut down.

Mike got up from his chair and emptied his mostly-empty tray into the trash. He hadn't eaten much all

night, but then he hadn't felt particularly hungry, either. Setting the tray on top of the trash bin, he headed

for the bathroom to wash his hands. Mike leaned over the sink, scrubbing the salt and grease from his

hands, and was busy drying them when he heard the bathroom door creak open then bang shut.

The sound sent a shiver up Mike's spine, but he forced himself to stay calm and make no sudden

movements. There were several stories about people being mugged in the bathrooms, especially late at

night.

But then again, here he was just washing his hands, so maybe it wasn't so odd that someone with less

nefarious reasons might be here this late as well.

Casually he glanced at the door as he turned to throw away the paper towel he'd used to dry his hands. He

was keeping his hands out in the open just in case it did turn out to be a mugger or even some irate security

guard. But as he turned, his feet faltered and the crumpled paper towel slipped from his hand and onto the

floor.

"Jeffery?" he said.

* * *

It had been around nine thirty when Jeffery had finally made it to the mall, but it had taken him almost

fifteen minutes to find Mike in the crowd of people leaving. It hadn't helped that he'd spent most of that

time skulking about and trying to avoid being seen.

But when Jeffery had finally found him in the food court, he'd decided to wait until Mike's friends left.

He'd meant to wait a few minutes more after that so it wouldn't be so obvious that he was trying to catch

Mike alone, but Mike had gotten up and headed towards the bathroom.

Afraid he might lose him, Jeffery had followed Mike there, Jeffery's mind still entertaining wild, sexual

fantasies. He had had to pause outside the door just to keep himself under control.

He wanted Mike so bad right now. The added danger of what he was about to do only made it worse.

He opened the door carefully and slowly at first, but the damn thing creaked and groaned like a vengeful

ghost, causing Jeffery to grind his teeth. He immediately spotted Mike next to the sink washing his hands.

Mike, however, waited a moment before looking up at the sound. When he did, shock was written all over

his face.

"Jeffery?" he said.

For the second time that evening they stood staring awkwardly at each other in a bathroom. As

nonchalantly as possible, Jeffery reached down and picked up the crumpled paper towel and dropped it in

the trash.

Then he stood back up and stared very fixedly at the wall tiling just over Mike's head. The silence that

followed seemed to stretch for an eternity, only occasionally broken by the sound of Jeffery's pants as he

shuffled his feet.

Finally Mike spoke. "Um...you're wearing my coat," he said suddenly.

His attention suddenly pulled back to Mike, Jeffery stared at him perplexed, the original excuse for why

he'd come here completely forgotten. "Oh, y-yeah, I am," Jeffery stuttered, suddenly remembering. "I

thought you might want it back."

"Oh," Mike said. There was another pause, then Mike began to shrug off the coat.

Jeffery just stared at him confused. He'd rehearsed this scene in his mind a dozen different ways, but none

of them were remotely like what was happening. He'd expected questions or accusations or...or anything!

Anything except silence.

Mike turned and put the coat on the sink counter.

With Mike's back to him, the fog seemed to finally lift from Jeffery's mind, and he took off Mike's coat,

the sense of defeat he felt slumping his shoulders. He took a step closer, his outstretched paw holding the

coat.

He'd meant to just hand it to him.

But when Mike turned around Jeffery realized they were standing much closer. The paw holding the coat

suddenly faltered and dropped it to the floor. With both paws, Jeffery grabbed Mike's arms, and pulled

Mike close to him.

Jeffery didn't have time to really think about it. He only had a moment to stare into Mike's eyes, to stare at

the look of confusion on Mike's face, before he bent down to kiss him.

The coat forgotten, Jeffery wrapped him arms around Mike and pressed the end of his muzzle to Mike's

lips. The feel of Mike's body against his was like fire and made his member throb with need. He eased

some of the pain by pressing his crotch against Mike's own.

Jeffery's mind shut down as he began to play out his fantasy.

Gently he brought his tongue to press against Mike's lips and slowly penetrate into his mouth. Mike's own

tongue began to respond in kind and the two stroked against each other in a slow, wet kiss.

Jeffery's attention was suddenly drawn lower when he felt the heat of Mike's own erection. Mike had

finally begun to react to the feel of their bodies pressing against each other, and, as he started to reach up to

return the embrace, Jeffery encouraged him by wrapping his arms even tighter around Mike's body.

Jeffery was now literally aching with desire. His erection throbbed painfully, and he pressed his body even

harder against Mike, slamming them both into the sink counter. Neither of them seemed to notice, though,

as Jeffery's paws explored Mike's back and caressed his shoulders in loving patterns.

Mike's body seemed small and almost frail compared to his own, but Jeffery could feel the muscles just

beneath the skin, bulging with the tension of this new sensation.

Jeffery wanted this moment to go on forever. But even now he wasn't completely satisfied. He wanted

more.

Jeffery's paws slid down to Mike's waist as he longed to complete the fantasy. It would be so simple to

have it. So simple to just take control and have Mike here and now. He was stronger than Mike, he knew.

Even if Mike struggled, Jeffery would be able to overpower him. It would be so easy.

Jeffery could feel his muscles tensing with readiness, his desire peaking...

But...No! This was wrong. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He wanted Mike, wanted him badly, but he

loved him. He wanted Mike to trust him, to love him back. Not be his slave. With a flash, Jeffery realized

what he had been about to do. The shock broke Jeffery's concentration and the kiss suddenly ended.

Oh my God! Jeffery thought as his tongue slowly retreated back into his mouth. Was I going to rape him?

Jeffery still held Mike in his arms, afraid to let him go, but Mike didn't move, didn't speak. Fear tied a

knot in Jeffery's stomach. Did Mike know? Did he realize just how far Jeffery had been about to go?

Jeffery suddenly pulled back so he could see Mike's face again. He wasn't quite sure what he was looking

for, but he hoped he'd know it when he saw it.

Mike's expression was mostly blank, though. There was shock there, of course. And confusion. But was

there anything else?

Yes, he could see it now. There was something, something else there. But what was it? Fear? Anger?

Love?

Please God, let it be the last one, Jeffery thought, as he slid his paws up Mike's back to rest on his

shoulders. The kiss had lasted only a few minutes, but it had seemed like an eternity. An eternity of

pleasure.

Mike had never returned the embrace, though. Instead his arms hung limply at his sides.

Then, quite suddenly Mike raised his hands to push Jeffery back. Jeffery didn't want to let go, but Mike

shrugged his paws off, and retreated against the wall.

Jeffery felt the knot of fear twist tighter in his stomach. A large part of him was disappointed because he'd

really wanted to go farther than just a kiss. Guilt was rapidly replacing that emotion, though, and confusion

was coming in just over the horizon.

"Um...I, uh...." Jeffery stuttered, struggling to find some sort of excuse or explanation for what had just

happened. Mike wasn't looking at him, and with each passing moment, the knot in Jeffery's stomach

seemed to double in size. Say, something you idiot! Jeffery shouted at himself.

"Mike, I'm, um...I'm sorry," he said gulping and taking a step forward. Mike suddenly looked up, his eyes

wide. "Mike," Jeffery said taking another step, "I--I wanted to talk to you, about, um, about...I...." he

trailed off not sure what to say. None of the words in his head seemed to make sense. Instead he tried to

reach for Mike.

But Mike slid against the wall, just out of Jeffery's reach. Jeffery tried to reach for him again, but Mike

moved away even farther this time. He held up his hand between them. "Look, just stay back," Mike said,

his voice shaking with fear and anger. "Don't touch me."

Jeffery was pretty sure he no longer had a stomach at this point. There was an ache in his chest, now and a

dull roaring in his ears. "Mike, please," he begged, trying to reach for Mike again. He was sure if he could

just touch Mike, touch him and talk to him, Mike would understand. "Please...I just want to--"

Mike suddenly cut him off. His entire face had turned red, his voice nothing but anger. "Get away from

me!" he yelled. "Don't touch me, you freak!"

Jeffery was literally shaking now. He could feel the tears beginning to well up in his eyes. Oh God, no, he

begged, his paw faltering in the air. Please! He couldn't stop the tears though. He had never seen Mike

this angry or been so afraid and ashamed in front of him. He wanted to collapse right there and cry, but he

was too scared.

Instead he turned and ran for the door as fast as he could, grabbing the coat off the floor as he did. The

tears were already streaming down his face, but he didn't care. Right now he had to run. Run and get as

far away from Mike as possible.

Jeffery ran out of the bathroom and through the food court, his blurry eyes casting about for the nearest

exit. Already he struggled to put the coat on and run at the same time, but it was hard to do both without

slowing down.

Outside it had started to rain and was just now coming down hard. A streak of lightning flashed through

the sky illuminating the otherwise pitch-black setting. Even the streetlights had a hard time lighting up the

sidewalks, the rain coming down like a fog to blind anyone foolish enough to be out in this weather.

Jeffery ran through it all, his breath coming out in white plumes that were dashed away by the cold rain.

He sobbed as he ran and almost stumbled as his body was racked by the convulsions. But he forced

himself on as he ran deeper into the night.

And farther away from Mike.

* * *

Tracy was reading a book when it happened. It was a murder mystery, and the cracked spine was proof

she'd read it more than once. Tracy didn't mind though. It was fun to read the book over again even after

you already knew the culprit. It let you see the book in a whole new light and each time she read it she

seemed to gain a new perspective on it.

That was why when the knock came she nearly fell off her bed. She'd read the book at least three times

now but that didn't make it any less scary or suspenseful. As calmly as possible, she reached for the

bookmark and placed it between the pages before she laid the book down.

It was silly of her to get so caught up in a book but it was already past ten o'clock and she wasn't expecting

anyone to drop by this late. She carefully undid the locks on the door and slid it open just wide enough to

see who it was.

"Mike?" she gasped.