FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

VIII.

Orakians and Layans

The grass beneath him was coated in a fine silver of frost on that December morning, the breath that escaped from his mouth made him look like a dragon – a haughty dragon, with his head held a little too high and his smile a little too smug. His hair was a refined Kennedyesque coif, his hands warmed in the pockets of his Abercrombie fleece pullover his mother had bought him in Charleston…his eyes filled with the calm contempt of a twelve-year old rich kid, for everything that he saw – everything but Bligh.

"Where'd ya find em?" he asked of his best friend.

"Out on the road near the ol church, that one that got the creek goin through it, he was a-layin there right at the door, n'then when I come up ta him he started a-barkin and waggin like he known me…"

"Like he known ye? That's funny!"

Bligh – his pubescent cracking voice, with a shock of too-long black hair hinting at how he would look for the rest of his life, not wearing a shirt as he was so wont to do despite the ambient chill – was kneeling by a magnificent-looking hound, shaggy and bearded, with a long bushy tail trailing behind it, a great beast, straight out of illustrations Andrew had seen from one of the books in his Pa's study about old Irish myths.

"I ain't never laid eyes on em though, s'the thang – but he sure is a mighty fine dawg!"

Bligh was stroking the dog's scruff, with a look of admiration and almost wonder – the dog, in turn, sat tranquilly on its haunches, as if sizing up Andrew with its heterochromatic brown and blue eyes.

Andrew leaned to give the dog's cheek a scratch, as he liked to do with his brother's Beagle back home – the dog responded by nuzzling Andrew's hand and giving it an experimental lick…he paused in mid-sniff to lean his head back as though taking all of Andrew into his sight.

"Wow, he seems real smart – like he knew who I was. Are ya keepin em?"

Bligh nodded enthusiastically. "Uh huh! Pappy said I could. But he need a name."

Andrew rose. "He do? Y'ain't named em yet?"

Bligh shook his head. "Nope – I wanted ya ta do it."

Andrew blushed – a strange twinge of emotion, something he was only then beginning to understand, vibrated in his heart. He smiled in gratitude as he coughed nervously.

"M-me? But—"

The dog laid down on the frosty grass, only to roll over – Bligh, laughing, gave the dog an enthusiastic belly rub as he looked back up to Andrew.

"Well who else! Yer m'best bud, I wanted ye ta name em. So – what're we gonna call em?"

Andrew beamed. "W-well – okay. Um…" He frowned in concentration, kneeling down once more to get a closer look at the animal. "He…he looks big – n'strong! So sumthin – strong, too – like…Zeus?"

Bligh cocked his head. "What? Zoos?"

Andrew shook his head rapidly. "No – no, that dun fit – uh – wait, hmm…Baron? Wait, what's bigger n'a baron – oh! How bout – Duke?"

"Whattya say then, Duke? Ya like that name, fella?"

The dog seemed to know and acknowledge: rolling back over to stand on all fours, tail wagging, he let out a bark that sounded as though it were a joyful affirmation.

Bligh, rising, erupted in a happy cackle – the strange sign of happiness that would change little year to year. He looked to Andrew with a grin. "Reckon he thankin ya!"

But Bligh, and his smile, now faded – burned into blackness, the final image from a dream one has at last awoken from…deep blackness, and from that blackness, piece by piece, came the present:

"Andy – Andy? Are you waking up? Oh geez, you hit your head pretty hard—"

Andrew heard the words and, groggy, woozy, slowly opened his eyes to the sight of two figures, one smaller than the other, shadowy and amorphous.

"Take – t-take me to a hospital," he murmured. "I got – I gotta concussion—"

"Y'ain't gotta concussion, drama queen."

He heard Bligh's voice, the clarion of this reality, but he could not see him, not yet, but he kept blinking, harder, trying with a new desperation to make sense of where he was.

So now, at a brief length, his vision sharpened, and there they were: Cody and Bligh, looking down at him, Cody fit to burst with worry and Bligh studying him up close.

Andrew felt his whole body burst with clammy anxiety: "Y-you…you—"

"Yep," Bligh deadpanned. "S'me."

Both of them were now hatless, so Andrew could see the furry, dog-like ears from what he had hoped was a nightmare… he watched in revulsion as Cody's would periodically falter with a faint twitching movement, as though in worry.

"F-fucking shit – fucking – shit – it's real! You're – you're m-monsters!"

Cody recoiled as if Andrew had struck him across the face. "Andy, no! We're not—" He shook his rapidly. "Don't say that!"

Before Andrew had a chance to answer him, quickly, with his arm, Bligh silently directed Cody to stand aside – he came forward to impose over his bewildered best friend, his long feathery hair hanging down like seaweed.

"We ain't monsters, Drew. We ain't – we ain't human, but we ain't monsters."

"Oh who am I kidding I knew he'd say that," Cody said, as though thinking outloud. "Remember? Remember when I said he'd say that?"

For just a flicker Bligh seemed amused. "Now's, uh – now's not the time—"

"What did you say?" Andrew shot at Cody. "You knew—?" He stopped. "Your ears – too – how—?"

"Drew, hold on," Bligh said, shaking his head slowly. "This ain't how I wanted ya ta find out, but—"

"Find out what?!" Andrew shouted. "That you poisoned me?! That you—?!"

"Have mercy, boy, would ya keep yer voice down?" Bligh shut his eyes in what looked like embarrassment. "Bad enough ya lost yer accent—" He opened his eyes to roll them away so he wouldn't have to look down to Andrew still on the floor. "Everytime y'open yer mouth I die a li'l, I swear I do—"

"You poisoned me—" Andrew spat. "I'm dying on the inside!"

"I ain't poisoned ya, dammit! If I poisoned ya, ye'd be dead—"

"Andy please stop yelling," Cody said, helpless.

"I gotta get outta here – holy shit, I gotta—"

He tried to spring up, but Bligh, cradling the back of his head, his hand over the spot where Andrew had landed against the counter, stopped him: "Y'ain't goin nowhere, Lightfoot, ya gotta calm down—"

"I will not!" Andrew cried. "Let me g-go—" He squirmed, grappling against Bligh's superior strength – he felt Bligh's unyielding wall of greyhound-like muscle overcome him "Dammit, B-Bligh let – me – go!"

"Stop this," Bligh growled back. "W'ain't nuthin ta be afeared o'now – so calm – down—"

Cody appeared over Bligh, his ears moving up and down –a hideous, animal action that turned Andrew's stomach – in what could have been concern.

"Telling him to calm down won't work," he said flatly. "That always does the – the opposite—"

At this, Andrew tried another assault against Bligh to stand up, but his grip – his embrace – proved still too strong.

"Let – me – go!"

"Andy would you please stop?" Cody said. "He's not gonna hurt you…"

"Drew," Bligh began again, "Drew – Drew listen – ye need ta listen ta me."

Andrew looked at Bligh, shut his eyes, and collapsed into fraility. "What – what, Jesus – what?!"

"Lookee here, Drew – lookee here. What I always told ya, huh? Whenever things got bad?"

"Stop."

"Remember what I said, boy. Remember—"

"N-no—"

"What did I say?" Bligh demanded. "Tell me, dammit – tell me the ­fuck I said, boy!"

An unwelcome weakness, a defeat, a surrender, overtook Andrew, and he heard himself groan out: "Never – let me – go…"

"That's what I'm gonna do, boy – I ain't ever letting ye go. Not then – not now!"

No sooner had Bligh said the words than Andrew went limp in his arms.

"Drew," Bligh pressed. "Talk ta me – talk ta me, man—"

"I'm gonna – I'm concu—" He coughed. "Concussed."

"No, yer not, Drew – just hold on, just hold a little bit – like I told ya – I'll never let you go."

Andrew froze, hearing the promise, once again, down through the years, the same words, the same cadence, the phrase that he had longed to hear but always found himself incapable of asking for.

"Bligh…" he heard himself say, as though the name of his best friend was something magic unto itself. "What – wait—" He exhaled, hard. "Wait." A thought occurred to him, and his eyes widened. "Are – are you Bligh?"

He felt his body tense up defensively, arming himself against the imagined threat of an imposter – a terrible lycanthropic doppelgänger in the guise of he who had been his best friend.

"Drew, stop—"

"How do you know me? How do I know you're really Bligh?"

"You're really gonna do this?" Cody scoffed, the first time Andrew had heard him embarrassed at him – he shot Bligh a look, his ears flinging themselves upright. "When you said stuff was going South I was sure it couldn't get any worse—"

But Bligh took Andrew's bluff seriously:

"Yer Ma's name is Margaret."

"Too easy," Andrew struck back, expecting it. "Coulda looked that up in the phonebook."

"Aight then, yer middle name is Nicholas."

Andrew rolled his eyes. "Same thing!"

"Fine, asshole," Bligh roared, his patience obviously gone. "When ye n'me was nine, we was out a-turkey huntin n'then a cattywampus came outta nowheres n'was gonna jump out at ya but I shot em with Pappy's rifle." A space of silence passed before Bligh withdrew, his frown turning sad. "There now, ya happy?"

All Andrew stared directly into Bligh's eyes, past the frosty-blue he had come to know as semaphores of safety and trust as a boy, into the dark pupils, where he found, his instinct rising to tell him so, that the truth was far more terrible than the lie he had told himself:

This was Bligh.

_ And Bligh was not human_.

What tension that remained in Andrew's body released in the form of a low moan – he nearly collapsed but caught himself on the counter, turning to stare in the sink where he had hit his head, sliding back down to the floor.

He jerked back around, feeling the hot welling of tears, looking up at Bligh whose mouth twinged at the sight of him, reduced to this.

"What the Hell happened to you, Bligh?" was all Andrew could manage. "My fucking god, what the Hell happened to you?"

Bligh withdrew, just a little, and he hesitated – just a little – it was as though he had prepared for this moment too many times in his waking life, and he had to get ready just once more.

"S'what – I really am, Drew – what I always was."

"But – how—?"

Now Bligh stopped him, shutting his eyes to be reverent to something Andrew could neither see nor understand: "Drew, this – this – what I became – without ye."

And then, for a moment, all the horror, the confusion, the shattering of his scientific world – all of it faded, as Andrew heard Bligh's words, and understood them, their full gravity, their full weight.

"You – turned into – this – because – of me? Because – I left…?"

It was a question in a low voice, to nobody at all.

The three of them stood there, like that, for all of a minute, Andrew's mind rendered completely blank with shock, losing how to properly gauge time. he glanced to Cody who was staring at the oven with a strange look that Andrew knew meant he was holding something back.

"Is your head okay, Andy?" he muttered.

"Can you move around – feel like ya gonna pass out again?" Bligh added.

Andrew hesitated before nodding some. "I'm fine." He swallowed hard, and then, again to nobody at all: "M-maybe this is all – something like a hallucination – from head traum—"

"Oh – my God!" Cody cried in exasperation. "No, Andy – no! Okay? This is real – I'm real, Bligh's real, the kitchen's real!" He lowered his head, the canine ears flattening in tandem. "Now can we get outta here? Please? And – and talk about this?"

Without getting an answer he turned and padded briskly back into the living room.

Bligh's eyebrows had come together at Cody's outburst, and Andrew had been startled by it as well, so that they followed Cody with their eyes as he threw himself on one corner of the couch…

…but, then, they found themselves staring at each other, one to one, Andrew slowly crawling upward into a sitting position, and Bligh withdrawing to give him some room, but never taking their eyes off of each other.

What Andrew had thought he smelled earlier – the rank underbelly of a fantasy-forest, the deep agarwood-musk – with each inhale it now nearly overwhelmed him…it was Bligh, perfectly Bligh, the intoxicating stink that Bligh produced, that he never smelled like back in Tempest when they were growing up but, now, symptomatic of his new form, he was exquisitely doused in.

The sight, the presence of Bligh, there in front of him, was still novel, after having never laid physical eyes on his oldest friend all these years – but seeing him like this, now, inhuman, a turned, half-canine creature, made it even stranger, as though it was a parody, a warped joke, everything that made Bligh Bligh, suddenly having erupted and taken over, from the inside, pushed to the outside.

His eyes traced every inch of him – the blue flannel was now open so he could study the four other nipples in the dense, silky carpet of chest-hair – the long, pointed, wolfish ears, the fangs that he had seen, but thought he had dreamed up in his despair on the beach.

There were questions that his scientific mind desperately wanted to answer but couldn't, not by sight alone – and there was one, one amongst them, that bothered him most of all, that needled at him in a way that returned tenfold all the feelings of guilt he had pushed out, time after time after time, all these years in Tampa:

"What did you mean?" Andrew whispered. "What – what did you mean when you said that – w-without me—?"

"Are you guys gonna come or what?" Cody's voice floated from the living room.

Bligh shrugged slightly, a half-smirk the only reveal of what he knew.

Now their actions became that of a pantomime: Bligh shot his arm forward with his hand confidently cupped for Andrew to grab to help him off the floor, but Andrew, in turn, shook his head, a profound sweep, to look away: Bligh was too strange, too new to him all over again, to trust with even touching. Instead, he put his hand to his temples to steady himself else he get dizzy, and rose, slowly and under his own power, off the linoleum.

When he passed out of the kitchen he spotted the dishrag he slipped on – he took it in his left hand to examine before frowning at it, tossing it back into the sink.

As they came into the living room Bligh flung his flannel to the ground to go shirtless, taking up the spot on the couch opposite Cody, but Andrew was still too fitful, so he stood before them, in front of the coffee table, in judgment of them both.

An awkward silence had descended over the three of them – after some length as he gathered both himself and his thoughts, it was Andrew who broke it:

"Tell me – tell me what you are," he said, to Bligh.

"I ain't human n'more," Bligh answered.

"And neither am I," Cody murmured.

Andrew stared at his boyfriend and Cody stared back – feeling his mouth grow dry with something like jealousy, Andrew cleared his throat, turning back to Bligh.

"I can see that…if you're – half-human – what's the other half?"

"Who said I's half?"

"You look—" Andrew hesitated. "I – I mean from outward appearance you're a—" He pointed, moving his finger to indicate, the same way he did when he was tutoring. "Ears – sharpened upper cuspids – supernumerary mammaries—"

"Do what now?" Bligh said.

"Nipples, asshole, nipples, I'm trying to say you're half-man and – half-wolf."

For a moment Andrew was pleased he could still use deduction, that he could still try to clarify and classify even when something new, horribly new, appeared before him.

"Huh," Bligh intoned, motioning with his head to Cody, who glanced at him a little warily, on the other side of the couch. "This'n thought I's a wolf, too."

"You mean you're not?"

"Nah – dawg." He seemed to ponder it before continuing. "Ain't real sure on the – math bout how much o'me I's born with still there, but – whatever else – everythin else ya see – dawg."

"Not – not a wolf?" Andrew pressed. "Not a werewolf, like – all that stuff you used to love—?"

"Dawg," Bligh affirmed. "I always thought me n'Duke were the same after – after this happened ta me. So – dawg. Not weredawg or nuthin, jest – jest dawg." He tilted his head, and Andrew knew he was being sized up. "I wanted ye ta find out – not like ya did – n'even when ya did I hoped ye'd know it was still…me."

Behind that word – me – was almost twenty years, brotherhood beyond brotherhood, and all the mistakes Andrew had made – he shuddered, looking beyond Bligh and Cody and the couch, out the window and into the palm trees outside his apartment. The raking August sunlight seemed so far away, so impossible in this new, mutated world.

"You," Andrew said back to him.

"Me," Bligh affirmed. "Tempest…West Virginia."

Andrew saw Cody blink hard and give an aside glance to Bligh as he said it.

"I don't even know where to begin," he confessed. "How – how did this all…" He stopped, he shook his head, he began to pace. "Where – where we grew up is supposed to have some – weird stuff, shit – but – I – I've studied biology since I was twelve, Bligh, you know that, you know – you know – this doesn't make any fucking sense!"

"Do it hafta?" Bligh smirked, trying to be sly.

"Yes!" Andrew almost screamed – Cody winced, but Bligh was steadfast, even if his smirk was replaced with a frown. "Bodies just don't change like that, DNA doesn't just—" He stopped, going over his failed speculations once again. "And then – how? What mechanism of action? Bacteria? Virus?" Andrew's eyes raced in tandem with his brain. "Some – some kind of – intracellular bacteria? Invading cells – bypassing the immune system, nesting there – transcription factors to the – cytosol, forcing it to produce protein for its own benefit…" He shook his head, his heart empty from obtaining no answers from his internal monologue that Bligh and Cody both watched.

"Here he goes…" Cody murmured.

Bligh's frown grew deeper. "He still g'on like this?" he said to Cody.

Cody nodded. "Yeah, he gets like this when he can't figure something out."

"Still?" Bligh smirked briefly, mostly to himself.

Yet Andrew could not come out of his thoughts, this worded stream, as his entire worldview, in the matter of seconds, was put on trial and found wanting:

"What – virus, what bacteria – does this? Humans into dogs, into wolves – so, what, does that – does that mean werewolves are real? That everybody in the Middle Ages wasn't – crazy? Did it all come from in something – else? If there were parallels somewhere? Horses? Goats – satyrs?"

Bligh sniffed as though amused – Cody and Andrew looked at him almost on cue.

"The fuck is so funny?" Andrew demanded.

"Don't try t'overthink this one like ya do everythin else. This ain't no plague, boy."

"Then the fuck would you call it?!" Andrew shouted – his voice straining in his throat. "I can't – figure – this – out!"

"Like ya cudn't figure me out, boy," Bligh answered with a frown. "Cuz this ain't nuthin more – than me." He paused, as though to let the words sink in. "Dunno why ya can't understand that – this is me, same Bligh, just…" He smirked. "Better."

"You said that before," Cody said. "Remember?"

"What, bout bein better?"

"Yeah."

"How?" Andrew said. "How – how can you like being like – like that?"

"Stop yelling at him Andy," Cody said. "I – I like being this way too – you should know that."

Andrew felt his stomach seize up in abject revulsion, and he felt a cold sweat burst from his skin – a door had been slammed in his face – it was as though, in the moment, he was not allowed to love Cody, to be part of him any longer, because his shape, his species, had been swallowed into that of Bligh's.

"Wh – huh – why?"

Cody and Bligh exchanged a glance and Andrew's heart sank yet deeper – but Cody's eyes came back and then, with only a small hesitation, he answered:

"I – I told Bligh this already, but – you know – you know everything that happened before – we met…" He paused, and it occurred to Andrew he was waiting for him to acknowledge it – he half-nodded, his face growing hot. "So all the stuff – the horrible stuff – I had to do—" He pointed to himself. "All the – men – that I had to touch, and – touched me—" He shut his eyes, his voice quavering. "When – I realized I wasn't – human – it was like they were gone, Andy – I could be—" His eyes opened as he searched for the word. "New? That sounds dumb, but—"

"No," Andrew interrupted, drawing up his mouth. "N-no – no, you're not being dumb—"

"All the time I was human, I was dirty," Cody continued, needing to be heard. "Now I'm—" He made a small gesture to Bligh. "Like him, it's like I – I – I can start over." His eyes drifted to the floor, two thin tears pouring out of either eye. "This way – I can be me…"

Bligh scooted to him, putting an arm around him, whispering in his ear, which fluttered at the sound of his voice: "S'okay – s'okay Pup…"

Andrew stared at the two of them, for the seconds that they did not seem to acknowledge him: this was their moment, he realized, something they had already shared, but in the province of Cody's past it was something Andrew and Cody had shared too…the isolation inside him grew.

But there, together, sat the two people that, together, he loved most in the world – his misfit brother too far away to count, but had he been there it would have completed the trifecta – and as Cody sniffed back tears, as his new canine ears struggled to remain upright, as Bligh scratched his shoulder and let him cry it out, a hideous chill gripped Andrew's heart: it was definitely jealousy, now, and he knew the feeling well, and yet then, right then, who was he more jealous of?

He watched Cody sigh, cough, blink away what tears were left.

"S-sorry – oh – wow, I'm sorry—"

"So that's why you love it?" Andrew's was voice low enough to keep hiding how he felt.

Cody nodded his head vigorously, and he gently nudged Bligh away, flashing a pained, but gracious smile at him.

"Y-yeah – that's right. And – why can't you love it too? If you love me…?"

He and Andrew locked eyes, but the latter would not, could not answer him – the jealousy that was biting at his heart had not ceased, but he was, as he had been the day before, profoundly unsure of his own feelings.

He took a step backward, exhaling, jerking his to Bligh. "Why'd you poison me?" Andrew asked him. "I don't even know what to ask first but – hey – there's a start."

Bligh shifted away from Cody. "Boy, I ain't—"

"Yeah," Andrew interrupted, "you did. That's exactly what it was – that – fucking hemlock Pappy used to use—"

"I panicked."

Andrew raised his eyebrows. "So you admit it?"

Bligh leaned back. "I admit I panicked – I admit shit was blowin up n'we was yellin at each other—"

"You poisoned me."

"I made ya sleep, boy – big difference. Poisoinin means killin—"

"And you woke up fine," Cody added. "I watched over you…" He sighed, an ear fluttering. "…to make sure."

Now Andrew shot a glance to him. "You – you were in on this?"

"In on what?" Cody sneered. "You wouldn't even let me go with you two! Don't—" His face grew serious. "Don't accuse me—"

"Boy yer really battin a thousand today," Bligh said.

"Oh fuck you, Bligh! This is all your fucking fault!"

"My fault?"

"Well who the fuck else's fault would it be?!"

Bligh sniffed, hanging his head back. "Well lookee here! Big fuckin talk comin from someone who changed the way he talk!"

"Both of you!" Cody cried, silencing the two of them – he looked to Andrew, taking a deep breath. "Look – Andy – Bligh showed up with you like that, sleeping or whatever, and – we put you on the bed to make sure you could sleep it off, and then – I only slept a little bit, stayed by while you were asleep, all night, all morning, til you woke up." He sighed. "I needed to make sure – y-you were okay…" He straightened himself to guard against the falter in his voice. "Bligh told me you – you would be, and I trusted him, but – but even though I did, I'd never leave you, Andy…" And then, after a small pause: "You – you know that."

Andrew wanted to feel some kind of comfort from what Cody said, but part of it had produced a cold chill in his heart, remembering broken phrases from when Cody first took off his hat.

"Why did Bligh leave?"

"Ain't wanna eat yer food, man – popped over ta Checker's since I ain't never had it afore – n'came back."

But Andrew was only half-listening: "You said – you said Bligh did it, but—"

"We had sex," Cody said, the matter-of-factness in his voice undermined with his flattened ears, and the sudden glimmer of ashamed tears in his hazel eyes. "That's how we – we—"

Andrew sucked in a hard breath – it was though ice cold water had been poured atop him, his very heart faltering to beat. He jerked his head at Bligh so hard he felt a twinge of pain in his neck.

"You?"

Bligh slowly nodded.

"But you're – you're straight—"

"I told you he'd thought that," Cody said to Bligh over his shoulder. "I told you that – exact thing—"

Andrew's eyes widened. "You're gay?"

Bligh stared at him, into him, those eyes, the blue that spoke of eternal cold, the very bottom of Hell itself:

"Dun – like ta think o'thangs that way—"

"Well then what the Hell—?"

"Y'ain't remember that kiss?"

Andrew's mind was assaulted with the reassembling of shattered images: the broken waves, the moonlight, the strange way that Bligh's eyes seemed to glow, the taste of his tongue in his mouth…

As the situation he was in fully crystallized, Andrew became sicker and sicker to his stomach – the impossible had been made flesh and fur in front of him, more real than the most vivid nightmare that could ever have infected his dreaming life.

"But if—" He stopped before bursting with yet more thoughts made aloud: "No – no, he must have forced you – he couldn't get me, all those years, because of where he we lived, so he came here, and he raped—"

At the word raped Cody balked forward off of the couch cushion, and Bligh jumped to his feet.

"Rape?!" Cody exclaimed. "Andy – what – what kind of person do you think I am?"

Bligh was fast to add: "Fust ye call m'Pappy a racist – now ye saying I'm some kinda scumbug raper, too?"

"How else?!" Andrew cried. "How – how else—"

Andrew heard himself say it before cringing, his whole face inverting with the same, surging jealousy, now brought to a surging, febrile pitch.

"Oh…"

"How ya think?" Bligh muttered. "Wudn't no rape t'all…"

"I know," Andrew managed. He ran his fingers over his hair, trying not to collapse in hysterics, as he turned back around to see the pair looking away from each other as though in shared shame. "God dammit—" he hissed at himself.

Several unbearable seconds of awkward silence before Andrew heard Cody's voice meekly break it:

"Andy, I'm sorry—"

"Don't—"

"Please…"

"I don't wanna hear it," Andrew said, feeling a lump forming in his throat and tears threatening to trickle out of his eyes at any moment. "I don't – wanna hear it – not from you—" He shot Bligh a glare. "And not from my – someone who said he was my best friend—"

"Holy fuckin shit," Bligh deadpanned, throwing himself backwards into the couch. "Ye sure do got some fuckin sack, man."

"Oh do I, by God?"

"Watch yer mouth—"

"You watch yours. All I wanted you to do was come down here to catch up, Bligh," Andrew said. "Couple o'days – I show ya the beach – we have a big ol hug at the end and then you go back – back up to that dark-ass holler that – yes – we're both from, but which I and Stephen both escaped." He recalled an instinctual need to spit on the ground to make his point, back when he – and Bligh – would smoke together. "None of that – fucking none of that – involved you emptying your sack in my boyfriend's ass—"

"What the heck, Andy?!" Cody cried. "Are you serious, right now?"

"Don't talk to me like that!" said Andrew, feeling a gulf rip open between the two of them he could almost physically feel. "You don't get to – cheater!"

"Just stop it, Andy, okay? Please just stop being stop being—" The dam burst, and he heaved out a sob, thrusting his head into his hands. "I said I was sorry – I said I was sorry – just stop being such a jerk—"

He wept, as Andrew never heard him weep before – immense regret, stabbing, anguished guilt, swept over him…his eyes drifted to Bligh, who looked at him with frank disgust.

"Look what ya done, Drew," Bligh muttered.

A sense of profound helplessness tore apart Andrew's spirit – he wanted to speak, but what good would it do? There was no point in trying to protest, no point in trying to do anything other than be wounded, deeper and deeper.

He turned away – as he did so, there was the squeak of couch springs, and then Andrew heard it, with a small, morose sliver of hope jumping in his heart:

"Don't touch me – n-not – not now."

Andrew spun on his heel to watch Bligh recoil with hurt. "Wha – hey, Pup—"

"It's weird right now, okay?"

"So you did!" Andrew cried. "You did force him—!"

"No, Andy – no." Cody sat up – his eyes were still watery with tears, but they had hardened in defiance.

He and Andrew locked eyes – Andrew knew what Cody was going to say, and he steeled himself as best he could, knowing what was going to come next:

"I cheated on you – I did it. I did it – willingly – he didn't force me, at all okay?" He huffed out a painful breath. "And I – I liked it. I liked it a lot. I felt guilty and I felt bad and I didn't like – changing – because it hurt like heck and thought I was gonna die, but after – after, I was glad." Now he swallowed hard. "If – anything – I didn't die, I – can live – like I want to…"

Andrew absorbed his words with the detached phlegmaticism of a surgeon studying an infected wound – every part of him, conscious and unconscious, wanted to fall apart, but he wouldn't, couldn't, not anymore, even after the chain of trauma that led to this moment…he had to keep, and take, control.

He withdrew, taking a few steps backward. "That's – how this happened…"

"Yeah," Cody said, choking fresh tears. "When I – swallowed him."

Now Andrew looked to Bligh, whose ears, as Cody's, remained flat in shame.

"Are you – fucking telling me that – what you are—"

"Dawg," Bligh offered, sounding helpless.

"That – that," Andrew continued, feeling his stomach turn as Bligh said the word again. "Fucking – dog – how – how the fuck could you not know it's contagious?!"

Bligh threw his hands up. "How the fuck would I know, man?!"

"You should have," Cody murmured, sulking, staring away from the other two. "I told you that—"

"Not now, boy…" Bligh muttered back.

"But – what – holy fuck. Cum might be one cause of transmission, but – what else? Could anything else do it? Mucous? Blood?"

"Calm yerself, Lightfoot – s'only cum that does it – one time at work I cut m'self real bad and it got all over this fella I work with, n'he's fine."

"Who?"

"Well he works at the mine, so—"

"Try me."

Bligh huffed. "Mitch O'Malley."

"That guy?" Andrew sneered. "Surprised that fuckhead got work anywhere—"

"Do it matter, Drew?"

"Guess not."

"Point bein, he still—"

"—normal," Andrew finished for him.

"Sure, yeah."

"Human."

"Yeah."

Andrew sighed, the burst of horror from seconds before easing back. "Well thank goodness for that – public health crisis—"

"Sure, man!" Bligh roared, obviously offended. "Yanno me, cattin round every county in the state!" His eyes hardened into a glare. "Or maybe I'm gonna tug one out in the fuckin water supply—"

"Don't joke about that!" Andrew rebuked him.

"Dun accuse me o'shit, then!"

"But Cody – is right, you should have known you were contagious!"

Cody fidgeted in place. "Uh, actually, maybe you should call it something else – the more we keep saying it like that, the more it sounds like—"

But Andrew cut him off. "Yanno what I think?" Andrew held up an accusing finger, letting himself be consumed by the danger of illogic and hasty thinking. "I think – I think – that you wanted Cody, Bligh – that's why you came down here – that's why you texted me—"

Cody and Bligh, almost in unison, looked back at each other in awkward confusion.

"I've never seen you like this!" Cody cried. "It's like you've gone crazy!"

"Reckon he has," rejoined Bligh, rising to his feet to cut in front of Andrew. "So if yer bout done, Mr. Scientist…" He took several steps closer, Andrew only backing away for the first few, until they were face to face – he cocked his head, the blue eyes piercing him once again. "S'wrong with ye?"

"The fuck you mean?"

"The fuck ya think I mean?" He motioned his head to Cody. "Yer actin nuts, man."

"I think I have a right to," Andrew answered, swallowing hard. "Come the fuck on, Bligh—"

"World ain't work like yer science-learnin, n'all of a sudden ye turn crazier n'owl shit." Bligh was staring him down, and it took what little willpower Andrew had left not to wither underneath him. "That ain't the Drew I know – Florida change that too?"

"I think I have a right," Andrew repeated, "to freak the fuck out."

Bligh sighed at the floor. "I – I reckon so, yanno, cuz I do gotta say, ain't proud o'how this all went down—"

"My best friend's a weredog, he's fucked my boyfriend, turned him into a weredog—"

"Yeah n'yer weredawg best friend always wanted ta be yer husband back in the town that y'insulted ta my face last night." Bligh leaned back. "Since we're listin stuff off…"

Bligh's words, so casual, pierced Andrew in what he knew, after so many years of unbelieving, was his very soul – what he had wanted to hear, wanted to have affirmed, for as long as he had known what love was.

"I love ye, Drew," he huffed, like he was trying to not cry. "I – always…"

The words trailed off, unfinished, and it was Cody that broke the silence that had been left in its wake:

"He's telling the truth," he said softly. "He told me – last night he told me how much he loves you." He tried his best to smile, his ears fluttering. "How we – we both love you."

Andrew swallowed hard – he was out of line and he knew it, but he still could not fully accept this.

"You punched me in the jaw," he continued, glowering.

"Because there was so much shit I pent up, man! Dammit ta Hell, ye have any idea how much ye goin off n'leavin hurt?" His eyes took on a spectral beauty – because they were suddenly, genuinely sad. "I ain't mean ta hurt ye—" He motioned with his head to Cody. "Told this one that. I jest wanted ya back, Drew. But – ya found ya somebody, settled down, n'that was bad enough but boy ye changed so much—" His voice dove into a hoarse whisper. "Where'd that leave me, man? Up ere in the holler – like ya said. Then – when Pappy died it was like ya left all over again…I might be wrong, I – I reckon I am, got no right demandin nuthin since I ain't said nuthin all them years ago but…" He shook his head. "Man's gotta – put them cards on the table sometime—"

"Bligh—"

Andrew thought he had more to say, but – didn't. He stopped, letting his best friend's name be the only thing that needed said.

There was, and always had been, two parts to Andrew Lightfoot's attraction, to his obsession, with his best friend, Bligh Lynch – the first was the hot, liquid passion of the desire for his masculinity, his strength, his handsome ruggedness, his tight greyhound-like body, his dick, easily the biggest on the football team and maybe the whole high school that he would take pains to get just the barest glances of every time they changed together…but then, too, was the painful longing, just to be held by him, knowing that this boy, now a man, now a dog, had saved his life, had his grandfather basically raise both him and his brother, and that nobody else could ever understand him in so raw, so naked a way, because after twenty-odd years only Cody had dared touch his heart like that, and though it had filled a void he once thought fathomless, there was still some emptiness, something wanting, that only Bligh could complete.

And these desires – muted, silenced, but always there, day and night, waking and dreaming – surged to the surface, slowly, relentlessly, like the spreading new wings of a freshly-born moth.

_ Look like I changed any?_

That son of a bitch – what kind of question was that, knowing full well that something had happened to – change him, to transform him into what he was now?

Andrew moved forward, and for a moment forgot his fear and bitterness, taking his hand to rub Bligh's shoulder – his fingers smarted at first, because he was now aware for the first time how hot Bligh's body was, as though he had a fever…or, Andrew reasoned, because whatever transformation he had undergone had altered his human physiology, elevating his body temperature to one similar to a canine's…

"I didn't wanna be alone n'more, Drew…I wanted ta come down – n'tell ya, n'ask ya…"

Andrew raised his eyebrows. "What – Bligh what are you—?"

"Are you gonna tell him?" Cody said, the same softness.

Bligh turned around and smirked at him, his ears upright and confident. "Yeah, Pup." Back he came to Andrew. "I…wanted to…bring us all together somehow…"

Andrew was overwhelmed, but doing his best to process it at all – now it was his turn to look sad. He knew what Bligh was asking, but he shook his head slowly.

"No, Bligh, I – I can't – not now, not like this…"

Bligh's ears flattened at once. "You don't – wanna be together?"

This was the dilemma that Bligh had not counted on, obvious as it was to everyone in the room – Andrew saying no. His face reflected that: a mixture of distilled anguish and defeat.

Unwilling to see his friend so totally dejected, Andrew reached up to play with Bligh's hair, the same color as the coal his ancestors extracted from the earth – the freedom to do this, to touch his best friend in a way he had so longed to do before but always felt forbidden to, made his pulse race, made him catch his breath…he wanted to do more, much more, but he reined in his emotions.

"Because I hate you," he answered, in the same whisper.

His fingers moved from Bligh's hair to his ears, which flicked, gently, at his touch – Bligh shut his eyes and breathed deep, lowering his head – the ears were thin, velvety-soft, they reminded Andrew of Duke's ears when he had last seen him, and the way that Duke used to drop his head, the same way…

"Dun say that," Bligh murmured.

"It's the truth."

Andrew took back his hand, Bligh's eyes scanning him up and down.

"Because," he went on quietly, planting a tongue in his cheek. "You come down here, you drugged me, you fucked my boyfriend—" He raised his eyebrows for effect. "You turn him – into a weredog…thing—" He saw Bligh's face go stony against the accusations, and from the corner of his eye he saw Cody sink back into the couch. "And I'm just supposed to accept this? And everything is fine?"

"Was I jest s'posed t'accept bein alone when the man who said he'd always be there fer me – weren't?"

"The least you could've done was told me Pappy died, for a fucking start."

Bligh stepped forward, his glare returning, raising his voice: "Y'ain't come for Li'l Bear's funeral why the fuck would ya come fer Pappy's?"

"Then you don't know who you're talking to, Lynch!" Andrew yelled back.

"Guys," Cody said flatly.

"That man raised us and you had no fucking—"

"Callin em racist is a damn funny way of showin yer apprecia—"

Their voices got higher and higher, louder and louder.

"You wouldn't let me finish after I said what I said!"

"Guys," Cody said again.

"Why in the everlovin fuck would I?! I ain't gonna let sumthin like that go—"

"It's over and done with, you need to let it go—!"

"Both – of – you!" Cody shouted.

Andrew and Bligh, snapped out of their argument, found themselves dumbstruck into silence at the same time – they both looked at Cody, their bodies loosening up from the stiff tension of the past minute.

"Stop yelling," Cody said, returning to the same flatness as before, his ears at an angle. "Stop – stop it now." He let a moment of silence pass to let his words sink in. "I – had enough of that outta my dad, and I had enough of that living – where I did. I don't like – I hate it – when people yell around me."

"Oh, Baby I'm so sorry," said Andrew.

"Shit—" Bligh nodded to himself. "Yeah Pup, uh—"

"It's fine, just—" Cody looked to Andrew, then Bligh, with a serious assertiveness Andrew knew was being drawn from a well of fortitude. "I don't like yelling, so – I won't have it around me." He rolled his eyes. "You two have some – stuff to sort out—"

At this Andrew and Bligh looked back at each other, both embarrassed.

"Uh—" Bligh ventured. "Could, uh – could say that…"

"Well you can do that without shouting – yelling – screaming at each other…" He shook his head at both of them. "I had enough of that for the rest of my life – and I – I don't want it around me ever again."

"I know," Andrew said. "I – I know, uh—" He sighed heavily. "Oh, no…"

"Dam_nation_," Bligh hissed – he gritted his teeth so that Andrew could see his fangs – the outward expression of the animal Bligh had always been, it gave Andrew a sensual, occult kind of thrill that scared him in the few seconds he felt it. "Lookee here, Drew—" he began. "I jest wanted ye ta see what I—" He lifted his eyes to beseech Andrew's. "What really I am – if ya still could accept me like this – all furry – n'tail – n'everythin else…" He stopped, suddenly crestfallen. "Then ya came at me with all that stuff bout West Virginia…" He glanced to Cody. "Like I was tellin em, s'like y'ain't like me n'more—" His eyes came back to Andrew. "I jest lost it, man…" He paused. "I – made ya sleep – so ya could cool the Hell down, and I could go talk ta yer man, there—" Now he hesitated, showing that rare bit of shame that Andrew barely knew. "But then I – gave in – ta how I's feelin…"

Andrew stared at him. "Why—?" His voice was barely audible, deadened with latent shock, and he answered slowly. "Bligh, why – all this—?"

"Ain't ya hear me? I was tired of bein alone. I ain't know what ta do – Pappy used ta say death come in—"

"—threes, yeah, my mom said that a few times…" Andrew frowned. "Li'l Bear – Duke – Pappy…"

Bligh coughed. "After all that – I – I snapped, man, n'I – I been so mad, so – fuckin – angry since ye gone—"

"At me," Andrew guessed.

"Yeah. Well and – m'self, too…"

Andrew sighed. "Look – don't – I can't – believe I'm saying this, but – I can't really blame you – you…you didn't deserve it." He frowned – he felt his lower lip tremble. "But Bligh – you pulled the biggest load of shit, I mean – holy fuck."

"I know, man—"

"No, seriously. I should kick you out now and never speak to you—"

Bligh cut him off, stepping forward so that they were but aching centimeters apart. "But ye wudn't," his voice was a breathy whisper Andrew strained to hear. "And ya know ya wudn't."

Andrew was helpless – the feelings he had suppressed since he had known he was at least gay in the dim mists of he and Bligh's shared childhood, which seemed fine to ignore for so long because he had just assumed with nothing to correct him that Bligh was heterosexual, came flying back to him, enveloped him in a warm cocoon of total certainty.

The lifelong crush, the closeness, the memories – everything made sense. This made sense. Whereas last night was a relentless mindfuck where nothing made sense – now, in this moment, everything made sense.

"Bligh…" he breathed.

"Yeah Drew?"

Andrew felt his eyes glaze. "I love you. You've done something terrible to me but I – I love you, I – I always – have…"

"There we go – finally."

Bligh and Andrew's heads both snapped to Cody, who smiled sheepishly. "Sorry…but c'mon. All Andy's talked about is you—" He glanced to Bligh, then back to Andrew. "And – last night every other word out of Bligh was about you."

"That obvious, huh?" Bligh said, tilting his head like he was sizing Andrew up, smirking.

Andrew nodded. "What else did y'all talk about?"

Cody's ears returned upright. "Lotta stuff, actually – it – was pretty intense—" He stopped, suddenly embarrassed, his ears fluttering so that he grabbed one of them with a frown. "More – ways than one, but—" He let out a whoosh of air. "Y-yeah, we got to know each other really good."

"What stuff?" asked Andrew.

Cody bit his lip, one of his fangs sticking out. "My life – his life – how both we got here…" His ears slowly started to flatten. "And – we kinda both came to the conclusion, um, that what we want is, uh…"

His voice trailed off as though he was unsure how to finish – Bligh, who had been watching him, finished for him.

"Us three, man – all together."

"You – said that. Like – a triad? What's the word – polyamory?"

"Y-yeah," Cody said. "And I was – I was okay with it, I was really okay with it…" He smiled, still a little said. "I already said yes."

"You did?"

"Yeah. Because I trust him – half-dog, weredog – I trust him."

"Well you – do – have a good judge of people – least from what I've seen…I guess you and he bonded pretty well, huh?"

"Why wouldn't we?" Cody asked. "Before – this happened – he came highly recommended…" He smiled, an ear faltering.

"I asked em – he said yes – ain't pressured em or nuthin."

Andrew glanced to Bligh, then to Cody, then to the coffee table. "All three of us in the same – relationship?"

Bligh took him by the shoulders, the touch making Andrew's face flush with desire. "Try it, man – try me."

Andrew looked into Bligh's eyes and found himself captured…they were an impossible color he had never seen in another person – a brilliant, terrible, ice blue, that spoke of a sky beyond a sky, of Winters in a frosted boreal land where auroras danced in curtains of light, of pure frost-strewn rivers, of lakes whose faces went eternally unmarred by ripples, reflecting softly crawling clouds.

He had always known Bligh's eyes were beautiful, but now he was free to acknowledge it, free to know it…from those eyes emanated familiarity, trust, loyalty – loyalty, Andrew knew, that he had not shown Bligh.

The same monster that had destroyed Andrew's life was also Andrew's greatest friend in the entire world, who was closer as a brother than his own brother. The same monster – Bligh, that was his name, Bligh – was a haint, a creature, hideously alone in the forests whose dark trees did obeisance to the Greenbrier River, with only Duke, and the dying ember of a love Andrew never knew, keeping him sane, keeping him comforted.

He knew why Bligh had done it alone – he knew it because he knew his friend better than anyone. Bligh had grown up with no parents, with little money, with few prospects outside of the coal mine. And yet he kept up that hope that one day – and that day could be today – things would be better, things would be perfect.

That is why he endured it alone – he was a true West Virginian, the scion of a line of coalminers, who had done so much more with so much less…

He had heard it said once, maybe a few times, that the ultimate argument in West Virginia – ultimate like it was the only one, like there weren't dozens, scores – amounted to insiders versus outsiders: how the insiders, the people of West Virginia, Appalachia more broadly, had been made to suffer at the hands of outsiders, the ones who owned the mines and timbermills and had raped the land and defiled the water and stolen untold amounts of wealth from the insiders, and then with the same stolen wealth in hand the outsiders had spun for the last century-and-a-half odious lies to newspapers, books, comics, movies, those fallacies to the rest of the world keeping their rapaciousness hidden, or even justified, by transforming a whole race of stouthearted mountainfolk, the insiders, into dehumanized, impoverished troglodytes, banishing them into the collective memory as subhuman failures of the American Dream.

Bligh was right – Hillbilly. Easy enough to steal from those the media had labored so hard to paint as hideously indecent people, or even people at all – easier still to dismiss their hardships, their poverty, their opioid epidemics, when they couldn't even be counted amongst fellow Americans.

But Andrew's family were insiders themselves – there before Bligh's were – four hundred years of being West Virginian even before it bore that name. And for much of that time, it was Andrew's family that had been doing all the heinous damage that outsiders were accused of doing.

All the things that Andrew had said at the beach, he knew, in the guarded chambers of his heart that no one, not even his brother, were allowed into, were mere projections, callous deflections, because Bligh, pure in and of himself, and therefore without reason, had enveloped his world, established on reason. Andrew's entire existence had been predicated on the fact that there were, in fact, no mysteries that could be left unsolved – he had total confidence, perhaps one could even dreadfully say faith, that in the far future, the things that baffle mankind today would be as easy and elementary as that which baffled previous generations.

And yet – Bligh. Enigma irresolvable.

"I could smell you when I woke up," he said at last, apropos of nothing and everything. "And I – knew – it was you." He shrank away, his throat going dry. "That – dream I had – hearing – you – but not being able to find you…" And now he heard himself say the key, vital words: "Would it matter if I wasn't human too?" Bligh opened his mouth, his ears swiveling, but said nothing, and seeing an opening, Andrew took it: "I need – uh – a minute."

He retreated, ducking away from Bligh's expectation, from Cody's exasperation – he retreated back, back into the kitchen, leaving the other two behind.

They could still see him and he knew it, but as he knelt to the fridge to get one of those bottled Frappuccinos Cody liked so well – he had an ambient headache and there was a vague notion caffeine would do him good – he felt that even the distance of fifteen feet could make him think clearer.

The good feelings – the transcendent love, the bonhomie – were gone, replaced by a growing sense of cosmic wrongness that spread over Andrew's mind like a sticky web…the absurdity of the situation had grown and grown until it had reached a final, crushing weight.

Part of him wanted to forgive Bligh, because it was so easy to understand his smoldering years-long grudge, and why that came surging through in one heinous rampage of cum and collusion – part of him wanted to accept what Bligh had done to Cody, because Cody was, in a way, very right, how shedding his species was shedding his skin, and if that removed the guilt and dirtiness he had been struggling with, and if he still loved Cody as he did, was that not worth the price?

But then – but then he asked the central question, to himself, about himself, as selfish as it was, as conceited as it was: what about him?

Was this not the primal call of his homeland that still threw out its black maw to swallow him in Oedipal rage – back to the womb he was birthed from, back to the dead-end non-future of West Virginia? Hadn't he spent literally years fighting this?

Neither Cody nor Bligh, neither one of them, had asked him to join them in being a half-dog, weredog, canine-whatever, but – wouldn't that have to happen eventually? Bligh wouldn't tell him how it happened, but he kept hinting that it was something spontaneous, maybe, brought about by abyssal, soul-screaming anguish – something that had come from West Virginia itself. So that would mean…Andrew would be remade, by the spirit and mystery of a state he had longed to be separated from, into a monster, as Bligh had been.

He looked down into his hands at the glass bottle with the chilled coffee swilling inside it – he hadn't even opened it.

A movement caught the corner of his eye and he looked up to see Cody next to him, leaning against the stove…they looked at each other, awkward, for several seconds, before Andrew, unable to think of anything to say – there was a flash of outrage, of demanding to know how Cody could have betrayed him like that, but it was too much like his father, continuously expectant of services rendered and accounts audited – he held up the bottle, shaking it.

"Want some?" he said.

As though Cody was annoyed by the question – as though he had expected Andrew to say something else – he rolled his eyes, he fidgeted, he shook his head…he'd done this a few times before, Andrew knew the signs of his boyfriend's agitated impatience.

"No, I'm – not thirsty."

"Okay."

Bligh appeared in front of the table, at the threshold between the little eating nook and the kitchen, pushing aside a graduate booklet from Purdue that had been laid carelessly at the edge.

"Zat coffee?"

"Yeah – Mocha." Andrew held the bottle up higher for him to see. "Want it?"

"It's mine, but you can have it," Cody said softly, nudging Bligh in the side.

Bligh smirked at Cody before turning back to Andrew: "Nah, man – take my coffee black – yanno that."

Something about hearing it – some affirmation that, after all, Bligh had changed very little – warmed Andrew's heart, but he suppressed the smile, swallowing hard, replacing the bottle back in the refrigerator.

He closed the door with a sigh.

"I – told you, Bligh…" he began.

"Told me what?"

Andrew turned his head to look at him, rising slowly to stand back up straight.

"I told you last night, I…I was looking for you in this – this dream I had the other night…I couldn't find you. But I was looking for you, I – I wanted to see you and I – couldn't…"

Bligh tilted his head back, his ears parting away from his head to flatten, slowly, as though Andrew's words had humbled them – perhaps his words had, Andrew reasoned, because he knew how fierce and proud Bligh was but how often and how much he got his feelings hurt because of something off him or his brother or his Pa offhandedly did or said…

…it clicked for him, something appallingly obvious that he, so prideful himself on solving problems, had not considered, had not realized.

"Yeah – man, that was – that took me—"

"Bligh, stop."

He reached, he grabbed Bligh's hand.

He had always wanted to do this, he had always wanted to touch him, to feel the flesh he was promised by their combined improbable lifetimes together, and now he finally could, even like this, even with the very debris of his life, his understanding of the world floating around him – now he finally could.

But it scared him – this touch, this intimacy, was he ready for it? Was he really ready to retract his walls and let all the terrible things he knew inside himself to be true out in the world – that he loved Bligh, that he would follow Bligh always, into Hell, into inhumanity?

Not yet – not yet.

He saw Cody look at them two – he saw him try to smile but then swallow it back.

Andrew looked Bligh in the eyes, because he owed Bligh that, and he owed Bligh this:

"I shouldn't have said that shit on the beach," he said. "I –I guess I internalized a lotta shit about where—" He paused. "Where I'm from – because when you read stuff, see, you form—" He paused again, realizing that Bligh was intently listening, his ears quivering just slightly, straining, to get every word. "You form confirmation bias – you filter the information you receive to conform to what you expect – so if I wanted ways to hate West Virginia…" He shut his eyes and sighed, realizing how ashamed he was to admit this. "I'd…find them." He opened his eyes, averting them from Bligh. "That, uh – does that make sense?"

"Yeah," Bligh said with an earnest nod.

"I've heard you say that before…" Cody added.

"So – I'm – I'm sorry," Andrew finished – he relinquished Bligh's hand, but he could feel Bligh, in turn, gave it only reluctantly. "I – hope you can forgive—"

"S'gonna take a little," Bligh cut in again. "But I – I can, man, I can."

Andrew sniffed. "That good as I'm gonna get?"

"Drew…" Bligh smirked, shaking his head. "Yes – man, yer forgiven."

"Wow…" Andrew said, with a smile that soon faded as his eyes moved to the sink, serious and morose. "Ya gotta know, though – Pa…took care of me ever thinking to give a fuck about Tempest outside of – you, Bligh, actually – Pappy – Dan, Stevie." He put his hands in pockets, shaking his head. "That's it." Bligh nodded. "What did my parents do after I left?"

"Yer Pa would git Pappy a Christmas card, yanno, pay a visit once in a while, but they never had us over at the house."

"Sounds like him…" Andrew murmured. "Doing the bare minimum to look civil."

A brief length of awkward silence followed – Bligh's eyes were sad as he stared into the cabinet before him.

"I really wonder how Stevie's doing…" Andrew said slowly. "I haven't spoken to him in – six months? We just – fell outta touch, I dunno. He'll be a freshman at Virginia Tech next month…"

"He came ta Pappy's service," Bligh said quietly.

Andrew nodded. "Yeah, you said that…did my parents come?"

"Naw."

"Figures," Andrew said with a scowl.

"But Stephen, he was, uh – he was drunk, man."

Andrew sighed. "Was he really?"

"Yeah – he weren't disrespectful or nuthin, but – I mean I could tell. Y'ain't know?"

"I wanted to believe he'd stopped."

"Yeah but Drew he was drunk when he wrecked yer daddy's—"

"Mercedes, yeah, yeah, I know he was. And he could've gone to jail for all the damage he caused and the fact that he was underage – but Pa got his best lawyer from Charleston – um, one of the partners in that one law firm where the guy who filled in for Byrd came from…" He shook his head. "I thought he quit drinking after the wreck – goddam, that fucking kid…"

Andrew could tell Cody was listening patiently, unsure of the esoteric knowledge that Bligh and Andrew were sharing with each other, but still wanting to be close to them.

"I should have kept with him – on the Internet, at least, I – I should've made the effort – been a better brother…"

"Drew," Bligh admonished.

"It's true."

Knowing he would get nowhere so soon after a few words, Bligh shook his head and moved on: "But y'used ta be on that social media bullshit damn near all the time. What happened?"

"I haven't been on them since March—" He looked to Cody. "This one's – birthday. What about that?"

"Ya were lookin fine as wine, my man." Bligh folded his arms across his chest. "Li'l Bear used ta say ye were really livin the life."

The remark – the invocation of their dead friend – gave Andrew pause.

"He – he did?"

"Yeah. He was happy fer ya, man."

"But you weren't."

At this, Cody cringed and looked away, the awkwardness too palpable – Bligh opened his mouth, his fangs glinting in the dim afternoon light, but he shut it, as though Andrew already knew what his answer would be.

"Look here," Andrew pressed. "Social media is about telling other people what to think about you."

"So you were lying a lot?" Cody said, askance.

"Everybody does, Cody – think about it."

Cody conceded the point with a shrug, his ears lowering with the thought. "I guess so…"

"Never really put much stock in m'own," said Bligh.

"But I did." He paused. "You know Stephen's favorite movie?"

Bligh's eyebrows knitted together. "Wizard o'Oz?"

Andrew nodded, and then, flatly: "Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain." He paused for effect. "Everybody back home just thinks my life is perfect – it isn't, wasn't, not even—" He glanced to Cody. "Not even now." Cody frowned, but Andrew continued: "But that's what I wanted them to think – I don't know what the fuck I'm doing after college, Hell until a few months ago I didn't know what I was doing in college – I wanted to be a scientist—"

"Ye still can, man," Bligh cut in. "Yer the smartest guy I know."

He smirked again, and Andrew accepted the compliment with a humble half-smile back.

"But it – it's just a dream, if I'm being honest. And now – feels like for the longest time I've never really had any real friends – most of them I alienated, probably, half of them I just lost touch with, because I'm – okay at making friends, but I'm shitty at – keeping them…"

Bligh played with the drawer-knob beside him thoughtfully. "Yeah man – bout that social media shit – ya really coulda fooled me – n'ya never told me the truth, neither, when we talked—"

"You used to put stuff on Instagram all the time – everywhere we went—"

"I'm sorry," Andrew said to them both. "But I never wanted anyone to know…"

Bligh shrugged. "Over n'done with now. But from what I kept seein – figured ye'd had a ton o'friends…"

"Well thing of it is, uh – see USF's a big school – a big damn school. I mean, yeah, I used to – like, seemed like everybody I dated was either a brother, or knew one—"

"Brother?" Bligh repeated.

"Frat brother," Andrew said. "They usually get their panties in a bunch if there's too many dudes at the parties – blowing the ratio and all this, but – I still got in, so it looked like I knew all these people when I really didn't – that's the thing when you have enough money to buy the best booze for people…"

He let himself smile, but only slightly, an ashamed little twist in the corner of his mouth for the procession of memories, hued in bleary and gleaming electric lights and sparkling glasses that spilled liquor on the shadowy texture of blurred-together nights.

"You used to go downtown, right?" Cody added. "I remember you telling me about – what was that place called?"

"Oh, uh—" Andrew thought a moment. "Liquid. There was another one—"

"Czar," Cody finished for him. "It's still there, I used to get in for free…"

Their eyes met, and Andrew remembered for the first time since Bligh had been cradling him from his head injury why he loved him, why it was important for him that Cody be stolen away and kept safe from a world that tried to sink its jaws into him.

He let himself chuckle. "We could have seen each other some night." The residual smile vanished at once. "But I was – I was too drunk to remember—"

Cody stepped forward, their eyes still locked, the space between now nothing – then they were dangerously close to kissing…his natural ability to flirt, to tease, on shrewd display.

"I think would have remembered you," he murmured, his face deathly serious. "Because the first time I saw you – was from really far away – and even then, I could only see you…Andy." He let his words sink in just enough. "You – were the only thing I could see that day."

Then he backed away to take a spot next to Bligh, who could not hide how much he had enjoyed what he had just seen.

It killed Andrew to admit how much power Cody held over him, even now, and how much it hurt to be apart from him even though they were only two feet away, it tore into him suddenly, abruptly, and he could not stand to be adjacent to it.

Just as he had left the living room – now he had to leave the kitchen, and he fled, retreated, away.

He paused in front of the coffee table as he had done before, with Cody more slowly behind him – but it was Bligh swept in front of him, evidently tired of the evasiveness, so like him, always wanting to cut the bullshit.

"Look, man – I really ain't like the way ya changed."

"I've changed," Andrew rejoined at once, recalling his private, rueful irony from before. "Last I checked, I was still human – you're the one that's changed more than me, don't ya think?"

In no mood, Bligh rolled his eyes. "Ain't want this ta be bout me, man—"

"Course you don't," Andrew said, suddenly wry.

"So it ain't gonna be."

His ears parted away and flattened as he nodded his head to the patio door, to the outside, to everything else that wasn't a torn-open rift into another world of monsters and marvels.

"What's this I hear bout yer Jeep?"

Andrew was taken completely off-guard. "Do what now?"

"This'n—" Now Bligh nodded to Cody. "Says sumthin happened t'it."

"It's true," Cody said.

Now Andrew's mouth fell open in something like surprise. "I don't – wha—?"

"You really don't remember?" asked Cody.

"Well of course I remember how we met, but—"

"It was because your car—" Cody began, before Andrew cut him off:

"Wouldn't move, right, now why the Hell are we talking about this?"

"Ye tell me why it wudn't move," Bligh pressed, flicking an ear almost at him.

"Because—" Andrew rolled his eyes, knowing no other way out. "I had – a leak in the tranny—" He sighed harshly. "Or rather a leak in the line, and…I didn't realize it." A knowing smirk grew on Bligh's face as he spoke. "So what happened was," Andrew continued stiffly, as though he was confessing to a crime. "The damn thing wouldn't even move when I gave it the gas…"

"Well yeah, man," Bligh said, his smirk victorious, his fang over his lip. "No fluid in the tranny, ain't gonna shift none."

"I know how a car works!"

"Do ya?" Bligh leaned forward to make his point, his arms coming back to fold across his chest. "I wonder!"

"Tranny…" Cody murmured idly, before his eyes, focused on the carpet, were at once alight in realization. "Oh – oh, trans_mission—" He had been unaware that Bligh and Andrew had paused to listen to him, and the sudden silence startled him to look back at them both. "Uh – uh, see I always heard _tranny to mean—"

"No, Cody," Andrew said. "Not tranny like—"

He stopped, utterly flustered, to turn back to Bligh, his arms tight up against his sinewy, furry chest, his smirk become a fangy grin – he looked triumphantly animal now, the beast embraced and inseparable from the man, and it sickened Andrew but also intrigued him, it repelled him but invited him in…overcome, brought his palm up hard onto his nose.

"W-wait, wait – back the fuck up – tell me why the Hell, outta all the times to be talking about my Goddam Jeep—"

"I'm sayin, man – y'ain't in West Virginia n'more – ya got careless, ya got sloppy, not takin care o'things like ye should…" The grin toned down to a smirk, still knowing, still in charge, his ears up, commanding. "Like yer Jeep—" Now the smirk faded altogether. "Like yerself – n'like yer brother."

"Keep him out of this."

"I ain't."

"Well you were there for him too, weren't you?"

"Can't keep a man from destroyin hisself, Drew—" He leaned his head back, like all of Andrew could fit in his gaze, weighed and been found wanting. "Learned that the hard way – all this time ye been away."

Andrew wanted to be angry – he wanted to feel something, anything, other than helpless, other than sad – but Bligh was correct…dreadfully, categorically correct.

All the years, all the mistakes, all the boys, all the drinks, came upon Andrew with a shudder in a titan earthquake of shame and regret.

But he revealed nothing.

Instead he stared, wounded but defiant, at his best friend, the magical forest creature whose whole being was antimatter to Andrew's universe – he glanced to Cody, but Cody wasn't looking at him, his eyes were away, outside…to the Jeep that had fated them to be a couple, only a year ago.

That image, and all the remembrances, shook him back to the uncomfortable feelings of two nights before – his whole life unfurled before him, with all the ways it could have been different…

…he swallowed hard, his eyes meeting Bligh's so that it was apparent – just like the two of them used to do back in Tempest – that he, Andrew, would not back down.

"Just a car, Bligh," he muttered. "Been wanting to replace it anyhow…"

"Huh?!" Cody cried, snapped out of whatever introspection he'd been in. "No way! You can't get rid of the Jeep, c'mon!"

"Pup's right, man," Bligh said sharply, his ears fluttering. "Can't replace a classic."

"I can do whatever I want with it," said Andrew, turning on his feet to look at them both – Bligh first, then Cody. "I really don't see how any of this shit makes a difference."

"I want ye ta see this ain't healthy, man—" Bligh shook his head, one of his ears swiveling. "Ain't healthy what ya put yerself through – what ye been puttin yerself through."

"I thought he was okay," Cody offered. "For – for what it's worth – but I've thought you were unhappy for a bit, now…"

"It can't be that obvious," Andrew said with a rueful sigh.

"I want ya ta get better—"

"Am I gonna get better, Bligh?" Andrew lunged forward, his arms out in a sarcastic flourish. "Am I?" His arms went slack by side – he felt the surging helplessness of so many nights numb by the self-imposed stupor of grain alcohol, the sins unaccounted for in blurred streetlights. "I wanna drink right now. I want to pop a bottle and then—" He was aware how blank his was face becoming, how emotionless, how much it would bother Bligh and Cody both.

Bligh came forward, inches from his face. "Look at ye – Lord in Heaven ye need some boundaries – yer brother too. Both o'y'all – ya need a family, a real family, not that raggedy-ass thang ya had all that time, yer brother n'ye—"

"I told you to leave him outta this," Andrew said back – and then, with a scoff: "And fuck you – boundaries? You drugged me!"

Bligh growled – a noise in his throat Andrew had never heard him make before and realized must have been new to his changed body:

"I said I panicked cuz ye were bein—"

"But you had the knife, and the poison—"

"In case ya saw what I really was – n'tried ta hurt me."

Andrew balked, several steps backward, and a few feet away he saw Cody leaned forward, ears flattening at once, eyes wide with horror.

"You thought I was gonna—" Andrew could scarcely finish the sentence. "How – you didn't trust me that much?"

"Y'ain't act too chill when ya seen me now…"

"But I wouldn't – I mean I didn't have a – a gun or anything—"

"Ya called me a monster," Bligh said, thrusting his hands in his pockets, leaning back to glance in the direction of the kitchen but really nothing at all – once again the beastly part of him, the monster that he could be self-referential about, radiated out of his skin, his fur, and Andrew felt the lure again, the revulsion again…but this time it hurt him, it hurt his heart, it built a pressure inside him he could feel building like pleasurable nausea. "If I'm a monster – now ye tell me, whatta people do ta monsters?"

"I wouldn't've—"

"I think ya woulda," Bligh cut in, now leaning in some. "Ya seen me without no shirt—" He put his mouth into a rictus. "These teeth."

"Teeth," Andrew repeated, the hypnotic coil tightening yet worse. In the second it took him to say it he realized that Bligh was right, that the fear of the abhominal, the terror of the unknown that is seeded into every human since birth, the genetic instructions to fear what is not understood, would have overridden everything – it could have been worse, it could have been much worse, if Andrew had fought back like he knew he could have.

"Even if," Bligh went on, as though being able to sense Andrew's thoughts – with a small, wicked smirk. "I'm still stronger than ye – woulda gotten ya fust."

"Hey—" Cody spoke up, tapping Bligh on the shoulder. "You never told me all that when we were talking—"

"I said in case stuff went South, Pup…" Bligh murmured, training his eyes on Cody to make his point. "S'what I meant – even if I ain't said that exactly."

"But the herbs on the knife—" Cody protested.

"Subdue em enough—" He stopped, and then, his eyebrows knitting together, he nodded to himself. "Well – what ended up happenin, I reckon."

"Wow," Cody answered back. "Wow – wow that's—"

"Pup, don't—"

"Oh no, you need to hear this." Cody thrust his hands to his head, grabbing hold of his own ears. "You? You're crazy!"

Bligh cringed, looking like he was trying to recover. "N-now—"

"Uh-uh!" Cody protested, moving his hands about as though to keep the other two's attention. "Okay? You're nuts! You were gonna come in here and barge in and just – be our third?! And if Andrew attacked you were gonna paralyze him?!"

"Well it makes sense now that he's explained it—" said Andrew.

His boyfriend looked at him, deeply askance. "You can't really think—"

"You were the one who already said yes."

"Well because – all that aside, after we—" He rolled his eyes so he wouldn't have to say it. "Um, and then, I got to know him – sure, yeah, he's great, and I like him—" At this Bligh tried to hide a growing smirk. "But c'mon, you really gotta admit—"

"Cody, wait, wait—"

Andrew stepped closer to Bligh, regarding him as an equal even when he was different, so near to him through the years and yet so far away in the gulfs of species and biology – just as Cody now was – each second ticking by feeling the conflictions of his twin instincts so dangerously close to boiling over…he let out a sigh of surrender.

"Love can make you do – really stupid shit, and…" He shook his head slowly. "This whole thing – was putting pressure on a house that wasn't up to code in the first place."

"Clever," Cody conceded. "But what are you – what are you trying to say?"

"I – I…understand where he's coming from."

Bligh sniffed. "There it is."

"Oh my gosh," Cody said, ears swivelling. "You two are exactly alike."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, Pup, how ya figure?"

"Oh come on!" Cody pointed at Bligh. "You can't plan anything—" Now he pointed to Andrew. "And honestly, Andy? It sounds like you don't plan either – like right now – just going from one thing to the next, even—" He sighed. "Even with Bligh."

Andrew scoffed. "Excuse me?"

"You moved here – Florida – without a plan, right? Just college, right?"

"College is a plan."

"But what were you gonna do for friends? For – for family? For Bligh? Just leave that behind? You basically admitted you've been wrong, and – what about your brother?" As he waited for an answer – which Andrew, hesitating, knew he did not have – Cody looked, the same level of askance, to Bligh. "Does anybody from West Virginia come to Florida with a plan? Like, really, you both—"

"Don't compare me to him!" Andrew objected – freshly offended, his mood and his efforts for equality totally ruined, because of a near-familiar cold twinge in his heart as he realized what Cody was saying: "And – and don't take his side!"

"I'm not taking anybody's side!" Cody shot back. "You're both a mess!"

"No, no, no," Andrew protested. "Wait – stop. Yanno what? Let me tell y'all something – the only one who's a mess here—" He stepped forward to poke Bligh in the chest. "Is you. You coulda just told me you were in love with me, and none of this – none of this weredog bullshit would have ever happened! "

"What bout Pappy, man?" Bligh's ears slowly lowered. "Yanno – yanno how he were with the Bible n'everythin—"

"He loved you more than anything, dumbshit!" A bolt of sorrow shook him, and he had to pause and breathe out the sadness. "You – you know how much I w-wanted that all my life – someone like that—"

"Ya got me, Drew!" Bligh threw out his arms. "Ya got Stevie! Ya got Cody!"

"That's not the same as having parents," Andrew said. "And you know – you know Pappy woulda loved you no matter—"

"Can ya not—"

"I'm gonna!" Andrew cut him off – he looked to Cody, whose ears, like Bligh's, wilted under his sight, before staring at the floor. "You – all you had to was tell me the truth, years ago, and—" He became flustered, and he raised his arms – as he had done with Tampa Bay, now he was doing with the entire state of Florida. "None of this, Bligh – none of this!"

"And then ye'd never've met Cody – I'd still be human."

Again, and as before, Andrew was stunned into silence – an involuntary passage of awkward quiet elapsed, his eyes still fixed to the floor, unable to move them, unable to move himself from the spot, until he heard Bligh, undaunted, speak again:

"I'm right, ain't I?"

Andrew, at last, was defeated. "Yeah – damn near – always – yeah." Nothing was left to say, but the truth, as he had been purposely elusive of, all these years: "As bad as it would suck being a mutant – dog – whatever, I guess it's better…" He stopped, realizing what would it mean to be admit this outloud. "Better than living like this, like – like there's a hole in me all the time."

"I know there is."

Bligh grabbed his shoulder – it was an aggressive gesture, it almost hurt Andrew in the grip, but he let it happen, he wanted to be pulled into it, the distance, physical and emotional, now erased.

"So make it happen Drew. Pull the Goddam trigger."

Andrew took a breath inhaling the deep woody odor that he understood to be uniquely Bligh.

"You know what?

"What."

"You thought Pappy would abandon you – then you thought I'd attack you…" Bligh's eyebrows knitted themselves together, but Andrew pressed: "You're so scared – so scared of being alone—"

"Don't," Bligh warned.

"—like a lost dog."

Bligh glared at him, bared his teeth at him – fangs in a flash of affirmation – and in it, Andrew understood him, all the words and years compressed into a solitary gesture of animal dominance.

The revulsion and the attraction collapsed into a solitary answer – Andrew knew this answer, all the proper words to say it, to blurt it, to scream it – but it was so tightly impaled on one last doubt, the worst one, the one that carried the weight that made him the sickest and unsurest.

Cody didn't want to stay human – but Andrew did.

Didn't he?

"Yer a smart guy, Lightfoot," Bligh murmured at him. "Think maybe I'm a lost dawg cuz I been lost without ya?"

He backed away, his eyes still locked with Andrew's until he wrenched himself out of it, skulking to the bedroom.

"The Hell ya goin?" Andrew called. His accent – guarded, curated, the most careful part of an image Bligh had refused to acknowledge – slipped enough for him to wince at hearing it.

"I'm gonna take a piss," came Bligh's reply.

Off he went, and Andrew turned around – Cody was right behind him.

They had been left alone together.

The two did not say anything for several excruciating seconds – Cody's ears went up and down, as if reflective of his own inner turmoil.

"Hey," Cody said, low, humble.

"Hey."

"How's your head?"

"Little sore." Andrew looked past him to the couch, nodding to it. "Let's uh – let's sit down."

Down they came into the cushions, Andrew at one end, Cody on the other.

Cody let out a whoosh of unsteady air: "Oh, this – th-this is too much – this is way, way too much."

"Uh huh," Andrew muttered, trying, failing, to decompress.

"Listen – Andy – Andy – I gotta – ask – uh…are we still…?"

Andrew looked at him, the pieces of memory about the two of them first meeting coming back to him – now morphing with the present image here, the fuzzy ears, the fangs that he could see in Cody's half-open mouth…there was a sense that everything leading up to this point had been that of a great labor, and to lose it now, even like this, in the cataclysm of infidelity, bestiality, would be to lose something that had taken too much time, too much pain to build, and so that, like how his and Bligh's grandparents both once worked together in their relationships, so too would he have to, because in the plastic world of Florida where everything could be thrown away, he was reminded that in elder places, elder times, people held on to what they had.

Yet, then – he almost smiled to himself – this was his need to allocate some area of logic to justify it.

It was a foregone conclusion.

"We are."

Now he saw the hazel gems of Cody's eyes glisten with tears.

"C'mere," Andrew whispered.

Cody fell into Andrew's lap, the distance between them at last erased – Andrew hugged his boyfriend's arms, feeling a relieving warmth spread throughout his chest.

"I love you, Andy – I love you."

"I love you too, Cody…"

Cody's body, like Bligh's, was uncomfortably warm, as though he was suffering a high fever – and like Bligh, he had that different smell that, now, was stronger than before, the one Andrew would henceforth totally understand to be completely, idiosyncratically Cody – the resinous redolence of a slash pine forest, the fleeting sweetness there at the end…

…there were so many things he was afraid to ask, but that he needed to ask – how did one word the questions about what it was like, to once have been a man, and now was a dog?

Or at least – half man, half a dog?

"I'm sorry I freaked out…" he muttered. "That – that was really unlike me."

"It's okay," Cody said, softly. "I probably would have too. I pretty much did when I saw Bligh the first time—"

"Yeah, just – how dog are you two?" he thought aloud as he rubbed Cody's ears – soft and flat, similar to Bligh's.

"Pretty – pretty dog. I have a tail, and – claws – paws and uh—"

"I couldn't tell because you're both wearing pants…" He raised an eyebrow. "And shoes. I shoulda realized—"

"I'm sorry."

Andrew wasn't sure what the apology was for, but he was sure that that Cody wasn't either.

"It's fine." He slid his hand to Cody's waist. "Can – I?"

"Touch?"

"Yeah."

Cody's body relaxed to give him permission. "It's – still yours," he said, knowing that Andrew would understood the inference of love, ownership, that Andrew, in turn, was still Cody's also. "Just – different."

Andrew slipped his hand under the waist band of his boyfriend's workout pants – on the back of his hand was the familiar slick Adidas nylon…but in his palm was a delicious-feeling, velutinous handful of fur.

"Hold on," Cody murmured, fidgeting enough to slide down his pants just enough that Andrew could see the base of his tail – Andrew grasped it at once, the same kind of softness pluming around his fingers.

"Tail…"

Andrew said to himself – gone was his visceral horror, the theatricality of the supernatural made natural before him – now he felt the logical curiosity, the mind racing to collate all its contents, take over. He did not feel jealous, nor did he – and he should have – felt cuckolded, because he knew that the solace Cody had taken in knowing that in turning into a different species he could be clean and renewed at last was total, and lifechanging…within it lingered the question if Andrew was brave enough to ever do the same.

As if reading his thoughts, Cody wagged his new tail, brushing against the fabric of his pants. "I can control it – most of the time."

"Does it—" Andrew felt foolish even saying it. "Does it wag when you're happy?"

Cody giggled some. "Y-yeah, yeah it does."

As if on cue, his tail gave several healthy, genuine wags – Andrew chuckled lightly to himself, letting his hand linger back to Cody's ass, raking his fingernails through the fur, feeling the toughened skin that only a few days before did not sport that glorious pelt.

"You're – all dog down there, aren't you?"

"What do you mean?" Cody's tail stilled itself.

"Down – there." Andrew sighed slowly. "Never thought I'd be prude about something but – don't – don't make me say it."

"Oh – oh." He felt Cody's face turn yet even hotter against his knee. "Y-yeah."

Andrew sighed again, deciding he would deal with it another time – for now, he had to ask the question heaviest on his heart, and he slipped his hand out of Cody's pants to lay it on his head, stroking his hair, as he asked:

"Do you want to be with Bligh?" Andrew asked him.

"I want us to be."

"But do you want to be?"

"Alone?"

"Yeah."

"No – never." Andrew could feel the ear in his hand strain at the thought. "I'd never do anything without you."

"But you cheated on me."

He felt Cody shudder. "I – I—"

Andrew let silence fall before them again, staring straight ahead, to the television, and the dim reflection of the two of them on its warped black surface – he petted his boyfriend, still, but slower, more deliberate, as though to remind them both just how alone they were.

"He – he was different," said Cody at last. "Usually – usually I don't even see hot guys anymore since I – since we got together—"

"Really?" Andrew looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious – and I'm serious about this, too, he—" Andrew felt him shake his head. "He was so different—"

"He is kinda different…people notice that." He sniffed. "Guess now he's pretty different…"

"It was like him and me – like there was a magnet, and I – just—"

Cody didn't finish, because as he was speaking Andrew's thoughts were invaded with a vision of Bligh and Cody – hairy, manly Bligh with his big dick, big dog dick, spearing Cody, making him feel the power that Andrew had secretly always believed Bligh possessed, Cody endlessly moaning his name, with Andrew himself forgotten, their sweaty, searing passion an invitation-only event that he was only allowed to voyeuristically conjure.

He found a small part of himself, a small part of himself that waxed uneasy for each second he found himself daydreaming it, squirming inside an isolated spot of his subconscious that he sought, unsuccessfully, to quash and deny, and so which grew…with his boner.

"Uh," Cody intoned, having felt the hardness beneath him. "Are – are you—?"

"Mmmaybe," Andrew grunted, shifting on the couch, feeling his face grow unbearably flushed.

"Andy…" There was a smile in Cody's voice.

"Wait – no—" Andrew blurted, his words pouring out before he could gather them: "Yes – no – wait, maybe, who – who cares, it's not like I get a say in it anymore, my vote doesn't even count, you already said yes, you already had this—"

"Don't be like that," Cody answered, his ear brushing against Andrew's hand again. "You know – you gotta know that this whole thing falls apart without you."

"How? How would it fall apart?"

"You could just – you could just send Bligh away."

Andrew hesitated. "I could – I could – I even said I would." He moistened his lips. "Back to West Virginia…"

"Well," said Cody. "Then – I'd be left here, just me and you – your dog-boy, with furry ears – you can give me treats and I'll just wait for you every day by the door until you get home."

His voice was so normal, so blithe about what he was describing that it took Andrew offguard – he actually gasped, his hand frozen in mid-air as he was about to pet his boyfriend's head.

"That's – that got to be the saddest fucking thing you've ever said."

And then Cody, half in his dry, flat way, and half dipped in sarcasm: "I'm pretty sure I've said sadder."

Andrew took his free hand to run through his hair, sighing. "Damn that Bligh – fucking – fucking everything up—" He stopped. "Wait – wait, did he? I said that, I – I felt it, I guess—" All day he had been back to where he was a few days ago, not sure how to process his own feelings. "Sometimes – sometimes feels like shit was always fucked up—"

"Don't say that," Cody said.

"I mean it," Andrew went on. "It's like ever since the day I was born – born a—" He stopped again, his eyes widening with the realization. "Born – born a – Lightfoot…"

"You could change your name," offered Cody.

"You're right – but—" He cleared his throat. "Get – get up, I need to stand—"

Cody did as he was told, and as Andrew rose off of the couch he turned to study the boy – the mutant half-dog who was not the same as he was just a day ago, before answering: "Guess I could, Dakota – guess I could."

At the sound of his legal name Cody's ears fluttered before flattening, deeply humbled.

"You haven't – called me that in a long time…"

"It's a pretty name – you were gonna tell Bligh about it yesterday – why don't you use it more often?"

Cody shook his head. "You know why."

"Your mother gave you a nickname, which was—" He paused, raising his eyebrows and exhaling the name like it was a magic word to open a secret doorway: "Cody…"

Cody looked away, shutting his eyes for a moment before exhaling, giving up. "Yeah – and when I told Bligh that – he said the same thing, about liking that name…"

Andrew nodded, glancing out the window – the mid-afternoon Sun was strong in the cloudless sky.

"But you said – I could change mine…"

"You can."

He fumbled for his keys in his shorts pocket and, finding them, tossed them up in the air to catch.

"I – listen, I – I need to go."

"Where—" Cody shifted on the couch. "Wait, what? Where are you going?"

"I need to go, I – I really, really need to clear my head and – and think."

"Can I come?"

"I just wanna be alone."

Cody didn't respond at first, but at a fractional length gave a small sigh. "Are you sure we're okay?"

"I don't lie to you," Andrew answered at once. "Yes. We are."

"But you're going out…" Cody's ear twitched. "Alone."

"I'll be back – all my stuff's here." He half-smiled at his own weak joke.

"What about Bligh—?"

"What about him?"

"Yeah, what bout me?"

It startled Andrew and Cody both – the former turned jerkily to see Bligh leaning against the door of the bedroom, arms folded.

"How – how long have you been standing there?"

"Long nuff," Bligh answered curtly. "S'what's it gonna be, Lightfoot?"

Andrew stared at him "It's all on me, right? It's all about what I want, ain't that – I mean, without me, this little triad that you want falls apart, don't it?"

Bligh unfolded his arms and straightened himself, a flicker of pain coming and then vanishing on his face – his ears flattened, then righted themselves concurrently. "Maybe."

"So do I have to decide now?"

"Well why the fuck not?"

"I need time to think."

"Ya had time. Ya had twenty goddam years—"

Andrew threw out his arms. "Maybe I need more!"

At this, unable to contain his frustration any longer, Bligh caught the bedroom's doorframe and gripped it so hard Andrew wondered in passing if he would try to tear it off – classic Bligh, his heart, canine or human, always on his rolled-up sleeves.

His fingers jerked away from the molding as though he was aware a second longer and he could rip it away, plaster and all – he turned back around slowly, his frosty eyes glimmering wetly in the light.

"Don't – don't – break – my heart again, Drew."

He breathed heavy, so like an animal, a cornered animal, and Andrew felt his heart twinge, but he deflected, outwardly, even this:

"Are the stakes really that high…?" he murmured rhetorically – he glanced to Cody whose face had become screwed up with concern, and now he had to clear his throat to erase the forming lump found there. "I need ta go."

"Where the fuck are ya gonna go now?" Bligh growled.

"He says he wants to go out," Cody said listlessly.

"In the state he's in—?"

"You mean the state you put me in?" Andrew shot back –Bligh turned away with a sneer. "You mentioned Checkers earlier and suddenly I'm craving it, so…"

"Y'ain't gonna shower or nuthin?"

Andrew shrugged. "Shirt's clean enough – shorts – gotta backup pair of shoes by the door, there. I'm good."

"But you—" Cody perked up. "You are coming back, right?"

"Yes—" Andrew said like swatting away mosquitoes. "Yes, both of you, yes, I'm coming back."

A thought occurred to him as he reached for the doorknob – a stirring, which had slipped embryonic when he remembered he had been born a Lightfoot, into a dynasty of humans that done such evil for such a long time…it was fusing together as the door opened and the heat of the late afternoon blew in – melding into something that felt, that really was, perhaps…a plan, a way to think, a way to be.

Yes – that's what it was. For Bligh, for Cody, for himself, he could be capable of more.

And he owed them this…both of them.

Andrew Lightfoot could be more than a Lightfoot because two people loved him enough to form their whole lives around him.

Born a Lightfoot – but…

He stood in the doorway, backs to both of them.

"Yanno what, um – hey?"

Cody answered first: "What?"

"I'll be in the Jeep, Cody." A pause as he stood in the doorway. "And I know you already ate, but – you too, Bligh." His accent was slipping again. "Y'all come on now – I'm hungry."

He didn't wait for a reaction from either of them – he shut the door behind him.