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My head hurt.

That was the first thought I formed after peeling back my eyelids and regretting them the next second later. Groaning at the aching spikes of post-alcohol delirium that danced all over my forehead, I slowly pulled the blanket back over me and tried to drown out the shifting movement coming that was coming from the bathroom. All I could make out were heaving sounds, a flushing toilet and claws scraping against tiled flooring.

A wolfish figure emerged from the bathroom and looked into the small corridor's mirror before glancing into the bedroom. "Aww, shit...you awake, Adam?"

"Never again..." I licked my chapped, numb lips. "Never...again."

"I'll admit, we got a little carried away last night..."

Carried away? Lowell had snatched an entire bottle of distilled, Devout American vodka from the hotel bar, snuck it upstairs and listened to me complain about how royally screwed up life was. Then, we watched entire reruns of Game of Crowns on the TV while taking a shot each time a character said something that the censors definitely made the show's producers write in.

The bottle ended up empty within an hour, so Lowell went down to sneak another bottle upstairs, only to have us abandon that drinking game and just share it between sips as we relaxed in bed. Luckily, Lowell had enough etiquette in him to place the bottle upright on the nearby nightstand, cuddling against me instead of it when we slept.

"Feels like a woodpecker's pecking the inside of my cranium..." I groaned under the sheets. "W-Why'd I let you...let you...convince me to join ya?"

"Oh, don't complain on me now, goddammit..." he sighed, though clearly looked as hungover as I did. "You've...had alcohol, haven't ya? They give them away at church every Sunday, don't they?"

"One sip though..." I muttered to him and the dishwater-colored ceiling, "Th-They only let you drink a...a sip...One sip...not a bottle or a jug, Low..."

"Ha! If only!" he barked, then we winced together. Or at least, I assumed we did, because from under the cottoned blanket, I could just make out Lowell angrily muttering something. "S-Sorry..."

Thank the Lord that Lowell hadn't convinced himself to snatch the latter, otherwise we, or rather I, would've found myself even more blackout plastered that morning.

Soon enough though, I finally gathered enough strength and tolerance against indoor lighting to cautiously peek my head into the real world. Indeed, Lowell looked about as exactly awful as each of us felt. With only a puke-stained t-shirt and no underwear to hide the wolf's shriveled, flaccid cock from view, his disheveled headfur spiked up like a neon-colored drawing from cubs' books warning about 'demonic strangers'--whatever that meant--while the bags under Lowell's eyelids seemed to make him look older by five or eight years.

I couldn't wait to see how I looked before taking a shower.

Speaking of which, nature called, so I slowly tossed my legs onto the floor and struggled standing up again.

"Wait, I gotcha..." Lowell immediately came to my side. "Here, lemme help."

Feeling his arm under my shoulder reminded me of simpler, albeit limiting, times from earlier in the year. When I couldn't walk on my own yet, so Lowell always assisted me if I needed to bathe or use the restroom. Except now, he smelled like acidic, half-consumed vodka, and was completely bottomless.

A lewd thought crossed my mind seconds later. "Oh, God...Did we...Did you and I go to bed and like...?"

Staring at me with wide auburn eyes, Lowell suddenly shook his muzzle and sloppily snickered in embarrassment.

"I'm a gentleman, Adam," he reminded me, "Plus, I would definitely remember us doing it, and so would you. You would definitely remember me popping your cherry."

A warm blush did not creep up my neck and cause my ears to fall. It didn't.

"Wha..." I cleared my throat and asked, "What time is it, Low?"

"Hmm...Almost ten," the wolf answered after a few, chuckling, "Wow, you and I slept for ten hours! That's crazy!"

"Not as crazy mad Johanna will be when she finds out what we did," I commented aloud, then nodded toward him to let me go. I steadied my footpaws. "If she finds out we took that bottle, will she ground us from helping in Crucible? Or just let us off with a warning for next time?"

"Are you scared of her?"

"Maybe," I half-lied, "More curious than scared. I don't think she'd keep us from helping out and being useless, will she?"

"Nah, not unless we really piss her off with something more serious than...well that," he laughed in-between wheezing breaths that stilled smelled of exited vomit, "Sorry...I know my breath fucking stinks."

"You're fine," I chuckled, "Mine does too."

"Besides, it's a big bar by Maverick standards...and the guests drink as much as they can. Even prior to the government curfews. I doubt Daniel'll even notice one bottle of vodka is missing in the cabinet, Adam..."

My tail uncurled itself from my leg. "I...I think you're--"

"Lowell!" came a certain voice through the radio set.

We both winced at her loud growls. Or, what an herbivore like her could muster for an intimidating growl, which succeeded. When the ringing in his ears presumably stopped, my cocky wolf snickered, "Well fuck."

"Lowell, I need to talk to you!" Johanna's static voice screeched from the walkie talkie laying on the floor. "When I say the bar is off-limits, I mean it! Daniel downstairs just told me, and I quote, 'Your surrogate son is an alcoholic, Mrs. Cardinal.' Is Adam there with you? I bet you talked him into helping, right?"

Lowell nudged me lightly, "You go take that shower, I'll join you after I talk with Mom here."

I couldn't stop myself from giggling like a post-drunken idiot as I hobbled into the bathroom. My back was turned to him as I slowly stripped down and listening to Lowell answer his 'mother'.

"Good morning, Johanna!" he chirped back onto his piece, "I hope you had a pleasant sleep too?"

"I know you stole a bottle, you brat."

"And I am not denying it. Could Daniel be generous enough to leave some orange juice for me and Adam next time? I'd love to introduce him to a couple screwdrivers...ma'am."

Johanna released an exasperated sigh, "How did I raise you to be a brat?"

Olivia's voice joined in on the radio frequency, "You didn't smack him around enough as a cub, ma'am."

"I might agree with you on that, Liv."

"Hey, it was just one bottle, okay? Don't be dramatic!"

I didn't hear the rest as I entered the shower, but true to our presumptions, we were only given a warning. Daniel would also be generous enough to lock up the liquor cabinets after the bar closed each night afterward. Sadly, it wouldn't be until much later that I'd get to learn what Lowell meant exactly by getting me to try a 'screwdriver'.

***

Weeks passed. Life went on. Daniel actually did end up purchasing a lock for his bar's liquor cabinet, much to Lowell's horror. No matter how much he begged him or Johanna for forgiveness though, the wolf would never get us another bottle to drown our sorrows in.

"So how does it feel to be another year older, Adam?" Oscar asked me during our read-through again, "Must suck, right?"

"Huh?" I perked my ears, then chuckled, "Oh, not that bad, actually..."

As autumn finally arrived and summer began to recede, Lowell surprised me by spreading word to everybody that I turned twenty-three years old on September 3rd. It was a Tuesday, when the hotel normally found itself busy with guests staying due to a business trip or a convention somewhere in Rosemont. Unfortunately, most of the events were canceled in place of a strict curfew from dusk to dawn. Anyone caught on the streets or in a car on the road without an issued letter from their employers would be fined or arrested. This left most of the guests within the Maverick's walls more antisocial than usual, like even being outside the comforts of their own homes had become a crime in of itself. Maybe it would later on?

Anyway, my birthday. I didn't have much to celebrate since the previous year, which happened to be a whole month before my forded admittance' to the clinic. Had it really been almost an entire year since I found myself in Cicero? Earlier, I had been a college graduate struggling to find a well-paying job which benefited my (worthless in hindsight, I admitted) university major and minor. My well-off parents didn't mind me staying at home until then and my mom encouraged me to take the year off. If only for a few more months.

I remembered celebrating my twenty-second birthday by waking up to pancakes, going for a walk around the neighborhood when I got bored writing job applications, then binge-watched several movies together with my Dad. I was then left alone in my bed, wondering if my feelings for the male flesh could be suppressed long enough for me to find a wife, maybe even a girlfriend I could tolerate to marry.

A year later, I woke up in the same bed as a handsome wolf whose muscular arms were wrapped fiercely around me. We were both in our underwear and sported shameless tents that grazed against the other's legs.

"Happy Birthday, Adam..." he gently kissed the back of my neck, then nuzzled it until I elicited a horny giggle. "Mmmm, I'd give ya my present now, but we got work to do."

We absolutely did. As much as I wanted to inquire more about what my 'present' was, we did need to get ready. We needed to go downstairs to do our daily workout (my strides had become less hobbled by my limps), then shower together and report directly to our respective posts. I continued assisting Oscar any way I possibly could. When he didn't make significant progress on hacking into our copy of the List, Olivia and I composed more information leaflets and booklets.

President Nessen and the Revenant Party have been performing damage control. Some actions were likely advised by David Farthing himself, or at the very least partly recommended. Not only had the (zero!) deaths of the airport rocket attacks been greatly exaggerated, but FaithTV and other state-controlled media spoke little about the ongoing skirmishes in Canada. Except if any of them involved a heroic martyr or a simple victory. I remembered once seeing an entire news segment devoted to talking about a Devout soldier and how his untimely murder greatly affected the lives of local Canadians. No interviews or quotes though.

Patrick, the squirrely badger with a notebook I once saw at the first meeting in the conference room all those weeks ago, had been continuously listening to police chatter. Making sure that nobody in the Chicago PD hinted about any knowledge about our cell. I wondered where he disappeared off to, but Johanna did mention he had some serious trust issues. Just enough trust between him and her to do his job.

As for the few recordings of protesters massacred after our 4th of July announcement, the Devout government had been desperately trying to delete every video posted onto Dove. Except, much like an episode of the Mother of Exiles podcast, every deleted recording only gave birth to new ones. They were embers that survived a flickering candle being snuffed out. Hell, they even went so far as to make 'protest' a synonym for 'riot' or 'treason' when you typed for the definition on Pious' search engine. Or rather, its heavily regulated search engine.

Unluckily for them, we were already making informative leaflets for the public. Those leaflets gave concrete definitions to a protest, what made them different from a riot, and how they did not have to be equated to treason.

"Protesting should never be the same as treason," Olivia ranted as we stapled the pages together, inside of the Truth Committee room. "Then again, how else will you know democracy doesn't exist? If you ask me, Adam, they should've noticed why the news stopped talkin' about protests for twenty years. The non-violent kind, I mean."

"Non-violent?" I passively asked. "I think school talked about it in history class."

Olivia scoffed, "You only read the sanitized and safe editions...They only talk about the protests they want you to know about but encourage you not to repeat."

"I was never encouraged," I said aloud.

"To protest or not to protest?" the otter flicked an ear.

A joking grin befell my muzzle, "...that is the question."

Olivia snickered and I couldn't help it either.

Clearing my throat again, I said, "Anyway, you're right. Absolutely right. I was told about protests against stuff like the homosexual agenda, classes on evolution, health classes, yada-yada-yada, but the teachers always implied that...well..."

"...that you didn't need to protest anymore?" she finished for me, to which I nodded meekly. Olivia cracked her fingers once she finished stapling together her first batch of the leaflets. "I'd say I'm jealous you got to go to school, Adam, but I can't lie. Can't imagine takin' school classes in a world like this and not go insane."

"Trust me, it can get...overwhelming," I reassured her, then finished mine and sighed at the small pile of leaflets stacked neatly to my right. "One batch down...and a lot more to go."

"I'm gonna go insane myself if we did all this for nothing..." Olivia snarled, not towards me but to our situation in of itself. The Chicago Defiant planned to secretly pass around the leaflets and booklets as soon as Johanna deemed it safe. If it ever would be. Either way, thank God that we could spread the information through PDFs online too.

"I swear," Olivia muttered, "Johanna'd better let us out of the hotel and let us distribute these. If not, then this'll have been a big waste of time..."

"We won't be stuck in here forever!" Oscar offered me a sympathetic room from his chair. "Liv, Mrs. Cardinal will definitely let us out of the hotel when the Devout falls."

"You're surely optimistic," she joked, to which the other otter returned to his typing. "Man, can you imagine it? A world without the Devout...feels impossible, doesn't it?"

"Kinda does..." I cared to admit. In truth, I didn't even know what the world would look like in a post-Devout America, nor did I know if it could be possible in the end, "We should get back to work..."

The day slowly continued without much drama. Olivia, Oscar, Donald and Jordan each wished me a happy birthday, Abigail offered to buy me a cupcake from a bakery down the street if Johanna gave her permission in the near future, while Johanna herself patted my shoulder after I reported our progress to her. I did not get many chances to visit Mary or Kevin Lange in their room--though I did hear they were talking more and more with Abigail whenever the old rabbit happened to be off-duty.

"Abigail is such a delight," Mary mentioned to me one day, "Kevin won't talk much to anyone other than myself when we arrived, but I think Mrs. Foreman is helping him realize there is a life to look forward to once the civil war is over..."

They were also already reading some of the remaining pamphlets we didn't distribute, with Lowell more than eager to hand them copies. He promised me though not to get into any political 'debates' with Kevin lest I threaten we go abstinent. For good.

Sadly, I did not get an opportunity to visit Jeannie again. The tigress stayed up multiple times long after curfew and slept in until afternoon, which had begun to affect her recovery process. Abigail chalked it up to night terrors from the clinic while Jordan believed it to be her getting distracted by the laptop provided. Whatever the case, Johanna agreed to talk to Jeannie further (maybe even put a restriction on the amount of time she spent online, or at least, the online web we were able to access incognito).

Some further progress had been made into the evening when seven o'clock rolled in. Me and Olivia had made an additional thirty copies of booklets and pamphlets to pass around one day, and Oscar feverishly kept typing and clicking his mouse at his desk, somehow still wishing me a verbal good night as I went to me and Lowell's room.

My tail felt numb from sitting all day, and my eyes strained at the foggy brightness of each light in the empty hallway. I tiredly wondered what Lowell and I could order for dinner. In comparison to the other luxury hotels throughout the rest of Rosemont, the Maverick's kitchen staff did excel amazingly when it came to their cooking for room service. The options on the menu rarely left me bored.

The elevator going up was about to close when Blu held the door open for me. Hector stood beside him and offered a curt nod.

"How's everything going, Adam?" Blu leaned against the wall, "Hector and I just finished training for the day."

"For what?"

"For the day," Hector dryly replied. "Blu and Lowell and I are training for the field operation that will happen when Oscar manages to crack open la Puta Lista. Lowell had to leave early for...something."

"...something?" I echoed.

"It is a surprise," Hector simply grumbled, swishing his tail against the floor. "Lowell threatened to cut our dicks off if we said."

He did..." Blu snickered, "He also said, and I quote, 'Spoil the surprise for Adam, ya fucking commie and I'll do to ya what they did to Rasputin a hundred years ago'."

I glanced at him in confusion, "But...Rasputin wasn't a communist."

Blu turned to say, "Exactly!"

Minutes later and I found out what my cocky wolf had in store for my birthday. Hector stepped off onto his floor, giving us curt nods and left me and Blu inside for the next. As we exited the elevators and went to our respective rooms, I suddenly caught scent of something delicious in my nostrils. Sugar and...was that chicken?

"Happy Birthday!" Lowell suddenly appeared by the room's coffee table, bottle of soda in one paw and a big grin on his muzzle. "Glad of you to finally get up here. I thought our food would get cold."

"Our food?" I asked, "What are you...talk...Oh, yum."

My eyes fell on the items placed on the center of the coffee table: two diet sodas, plus an opened box of delivered cheese pizza that had mushrooms, bacon bits, pepperoni and sliced onions. All of it sliced into eight perfectly cut pieces for us.

"Oh God, I can...I can't believe it," I leaned forward and swiftly inhaled the heavenly scent of a food I hadn't seen in literal months. Or years, for that matter. "How did you...? I thought that Johanna banned everybody from ordering stuff outside the hotel."

"She did, but I convinced the kitchen staff downstairs to do me a solid and order some from this great shop a few blocks down," the wolf led me to the couch and had us sit down, as he too salivated over our dinner, "I remembered you mentioned mushrooms, pepperoni and onions were your favorite, so I did a few favors downstairs."

I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, "What did you have to do for this?"

"Well, I had to give a very, very, very, very heart-felt apology to Daniel about stealing the liquor," he sighed, twitching an embarrassed ear, "And make a blood pact that I'll never steal again. And a few minutes of begging with my knees on the floor, though I'd like to say--"

"Are you going to make a joke about how I'd be familiar with being on my knees? Low?" The timber wolf grinned, sticking his tongue out as I laughed aloud and playfully pushed his muzzle away from my cheek. "Thank you for this though. I mean it, Lowell."

"Happy Birthday, Adam!" he patted my shoulder and smacked his lips, "Now let's eat the pizza before I decide to eat you out."

"And there we go," I groaned as he snickered. "Will you ever stop that with me?"

"You love the sex jokes, and you know it!"

Truth be told, I'd definitely grown fond of them.

Eat we did. Having spent a good portion of the previous year in a comatose state, followed by several months of off-site physical therapy and fighting for the Defiant, I never knew how much I missed pizza until that night. More specifically, pizza with a good (boy)friend beside you to enjoy it. I couldn't even remember the last time I had pizza slices that good, burnt to the right degree, stuffed with the correct amount of cheese and ingredients, followed by a dash of spicy pepper.

Halfway through, Lowell and I ate our respective slices in silence, until the wolf suggested we could enjoy our dinners while watching a movie. I eagerly agreed and helped him move everything onto the bed. Aside from the usual TV fanfare of Christian patriotism and coverage over the Canadian occupation, we decided on a safe, albeit boring romantic comedy. I didn't know the title, but it contained the standard formula: upstanding guy falls on love with an upstanding girl, one or both of them have a traumatic past that no doubt blamed the liberals or the immoral decades of the 1970s or 1980s, but through the power of believing in God and their love for each other will they overcome it. Only then could they fall in love, for God was above their love.

The critics praised it, but for us, the entertainment came from how we relentlessly mocked it.

"Bet you five bucks he'll quote the Bible."

"You're on, Low."

" Betty, as the good book says in Leviticus, 'Thou shall not--'"

I chortled, "You win."

"Told ya!"

"Bet you ten bucks they'll get together in the end," I proposed.

"Ten bucks for something that obvious?" Lowell shook his muzzle in slight disgust, "These straight couples are always pitch perfect, it'd be a literal crime to keep 'em apart. Unless one of them doesn't believe enough."

"In God, in Country or their heavenly love?"

"Yes," he chuckled, "Yes, to all of it..."

"Oh, oh, oh!" I interjected, pointing to the TV screen and looking at the confused wolf, "Bet you twenty bucks that her father's going to either be a minister or a veteran."

Lowell smirked, "Oh, you are on!"

Once the pizza slices were gone, some it a little cold as we enjoyed giving our own critique to the movie, Lowell and I curled up onto the bed and continued riffing whatever we could find. Pre-Devout movies, propagandic films on FaithTV's sister channel, some earlier Game of Crowns episodes and another critically acclaimed first movie in a three-party trilogy about the Rapture. Lowell especially loved pointing out to me the plot holes of each scene.

Me? I simply enjoyed how the wolf held me close and did his best to make me laugh, succeeding most of the way while letting me give a few jabs. We simply cradled each other throughout the rest of the movies, our arms a shield against the harsh reality that lay outside the Maverick Hotel's walls. There were no such things as Archangels, the Farthings, the Revenant Party or mad dog believers of the Holy Book. In Lowell's words, our room was the only true reality. Our world was real while the outside only existed as fiction.

Neither of us had even noticed it was close to ten in the evening, not until I noticed how dark it was outside through our room's window blinds. Stretching his arms for a moment, Lowell went to toss the emptied pizza box and soda bottles away before going to the bed, smiling at me.

"Hey."

I mirrored his smile in brighter intensity. "Hey."

He tenderly entwined his paws with mine, "...I love you, Adam. Don't...Don't forget that?"

My eyes widened slight, my heartbeat raced, yet I no longer noticed my spastic tail twitching and smacking against the bed.

"I love you too, Lowell...whoever you really are."

We were snickering again, only for his laughter to be silenced (and surprised) by my encroaching lips. And my strength as I pulled him atop me on the blanket.

Lowell's lips tasted like tomato sauce and some hint of tic-tac's. His long canine tongue slithered lovingly past my defenses, and he left me shuddering when his paws roamed underneath the hem of my shirt. When he was finished devouring my lips, he then nuzzled into the right crick of my neck, which further elicited a guttural whine I failed to suppress.

"Music to my ears," he whispered, then licked my left nape.

Another whimpering moan bubbled up from inside my chest, mixed together with a familiar yet unexplored itch I began to feel under my antsy tail as it patted against Lowell's thighs.

He paused the tongue treatment temporarily. "Mind if I get myself more comfortable, Adam?" his deep voice lightheartedly asked, "I bet ya wanna be more comfortable too, right?"

I nodded. "Y-Yesss."

We pulled away and hastily undressed to our underwear. Lowell proudly sported an erection that clearly had a wet spot on the tip, cheekily waving it a bit for me as I kicked away my jeans and nearly tore off my t-shirt to the side. Now my feline shaft rubbed itself against the my loose boxers, peeking between the buttons and aching to be free. Aching to be fondled and toyed with by a certain wolf who possessed some muscle and scars. In due time though.

After Lowell finally reached towards the light switch, we could ourselves plunged into darkness as cold as the world outside the nearby blinds, only to find myself immediately warmed by a pair of arms and legs, a fluffy tail and a maw breathing hotly against my face. Besides hearing the horny canine pant, I also felt a small droplet of drool fall on my muzzle's left side.

"Sorry," he chuckled embarrassedly, and I felt a thumb brush the drying droplet off my bridge, only to be replaced by a soft kiss. "I love you so much, Adam..."

I gave the brightest, tearful smile he could see in the dark, "I love you too, Lowell."

We explored one another without any fear. Not for our lives or how far the flirtations could go. Our fingers touched each reachable inch and our fit stomachs brushed close to the point I could feel each of the wolf's abs polish themselves against my slim stomach's fur, and his erect nipples scraped against mine. His licks and wandering paws became ever so brasher, producing needy moans and gasps that left me feeling flushed.

To be all fair though, I also went the extra mile to make him feel good. I gyrated my torso back and forth against his, imitating the 'frottage' technique I once saw in the gay pornography video we watched. He certainly panted harder, having further difficulty making it sound quieter for us. This went on for what felt like an entire hour--maybe longer--until Lowell could take it no longer and yanked our underwear down to rub our dripping members together, vigorously.

That itch under my tail grew harder to ignore, and I couldn't wait longer either.

"L..." I panted out his name, "Lowell?"

He paused his impassioned strokes, "Hm, y-yes?"

Blindly and completely taken over by our mutual thirst for pleasure, I conveyed my need by lowering my paws to caress his bare hips, fingers tracing the hem of his white boxer briefs until they finally slid underneath the thin elastic band to feel the warm, toned muscles of his gluteus maximus. Then, the fingers boldly ran through the thick fur atop his muscles, those curly grey furs I could not see, and I pushed his torso against mine. The wolf wordlessly understood what I wanted when his bulge poked and grounded against the area under my tail and I elicited yet another needy whimper. The kind of whimper that could only be heard by males like us.

"Are...you sure?" he turned his head to look directly at me in the dark room. Once again, my lack of night vision prevented me from seeing the concern in his eyes, but I could feel it. "I mean, I can use our spit if it'll help but..."

"Please," I continued nodding, "I am sure. I want you to do it."

"Do what?" There returned the cocky, dominant timber wolf I'd been drawn to, the one who liked to tease me and flirted. He had to have been grinning in the dark. "What do ya want me to do, Adam? Tell me."

Years of abstinent health education and a dosage of religious teachings screamed at me to stop before I truly went through with what the Bible claimed to be an abomination. However, the itch started to consume me. I needed Lowell.

"You know what it is!" I gasped, getting exasperated. "You know, Low."

"I want you to say it," he replied coyly, "What is it you want me to do?"

"...fuck me."

"Hmm?"

I leaned up until my whiskers tickled his cheek and my cold feline nose touched his twitching right ear. In an intensely husky voice, I told my lover, "...I want you to fuck me. Sodomize me. Perform homosexual intercourse with me!"

A few audible, deep chuckles rumbled from the wolf's chest, "Turn over, Adam."

Following his command, I did just that. His fingers roughly peeled down the rest of my boxers until I felt them fall of one of my ankles onto the floor. My tail instinctively lifted itself up when I felt two calloused paws pull the cheeks away. For a moment, I wondered if he'd actually go inside of me dry and braced myself...

...only to feel a wet, familiar appendage snake up and down my crack.

"Ohohohohoh~"

"Shhh," Lowell playfully bit my left cheek, only causing me to ground my ass against my nose as it exhaled on my moist yet still virgin tailhole. "Wait here, I'm gonna turn it on and grab something."

"Wha-What?"

Next thing I knew, I got my answer when the TV's bright screen stabbed through the darkness like a square spotlight. Craning my neck from the pillow back to behind me, I spotted Lowell's silhouetted figure snatch something from a drawer in the small corridor opposite the bathroom, then reenter the bedroom and turn up the TV's volume with one paw and holding something else in the other. A condom. He got us a condom.

"Johanna warned me to use this, even if neither of us have anything," he murmured while trying to tear it open. "Eheh, uh...Gimme a moment."

Where did they get a condom? I silently wondered to only myself, I thought the government outlawed them years ago.

If I weren't distracted by Lowell's glittering eyes and how much his encouraged erection bounced against his leg, I'd have asked him why he turned the volume up on a channel randomly playing sacred jazz music. Plus, his flat tongue pulled me back into the shivering joy, each intrusive lick causing my back to arch and my tail to circle around him in a python-like manner, encouraging him, begging him to go further. To eat me out and prepare me for the illegal act we were about to perform in privacy.

(Thank God I had washed myself out after the workout from that morning.)

My legs were shaking endlessly and my tailhole had been left gaping. I could feel the sweat from all across my body already creating a dampness on top of the blankets, while my straining balls begged for release between my legs due to neglect. Part of me wanted to collapse in anticipation after what felt like minutes of preparation.

At long last, I felt Lowell's rubbered, spit-lubed erection rub itself against my crack. Then, his quaking but firm arms wrapped around my stomach, before my wolf finally impaled me. My virginity had been taken.

"Ah!"

"S-Shhh, easy..."

"Mfh...you be easy!"

"Don't push against me, okay? Let yourself adjust."

"O...Okay...I trust you, Low."

We waited as I let his member push past my defenses through uncomfortable minutes, until the discomfort replaced itself with a sensation. The same sensation that scratched away the itch under my tail and found itself replaced by a growing surge of pleasure that enveloped me.

I ran my clawed fingers through the sheets under the pillows, pushing my nose into a pillow. Once his tip lightly brushed against what had to have been my prostate, I found myself completely lost in our lovemaking. I could barely keep my moans muffled by biting my lower lip. The only noises I could make were deep purrs. All I could comprehend were Lowell's powerful thrusts, slapping his hips against my back thighs and spreading me further. When I could only hear a strange mixture of the lustful timber wolf's panting and my croaking gasps, deafened by the loud sacred jazz orchestrating to a climactic crescendo. All as we were both driven towards the edge.

Tears stained my pillow, and I thought my orgasm would never arrive until I felt Lowell's strong paw stroke my painfully erect cock. If it weren't for the pillow to muffle myself, no doubt the entirety of the Maverick Hotel's occupants would've heard me. Or Lowell, when my ass clenched itself around his thick shaft and finally compelled him to fill the condom. Instead of a pillow to bite on, he clamped his canines around my left shoulder, almost piercing the skin under my sweaty fur as he collapsed alongside me.

My mind abandoned the rest of my body, drifting elsewhere. I didn't know where it went, or where I went to. Maybe to a distant planet or a void of space where all that existed was my mind? I felt like a floating asteroid or comet in the vacuum. A satellite without an orbiting body between the universe and the Gates of Heaven. Wandering and wafting endlessly without a care in the world, unaware of nebulous concepts or the ability to dream.

Thankfully, Lowell's comforting arms brought me back to Earth. Together, we both lay naked and covered in our own sweat, pleasured tears and each other's drool.

"A-Adam...that..." he murmured into my shoulder, licking at the 'wound' his teeth made. "T-That..."

His condom-laced member, now completely flaccid, still pressed itself into my tender, sore tailhole. Even our tails seemed to crack profoundly at all of the vigorous activity we'd just done. Could you call homosexual intercourse a physical activity?

"...y-yeah..." I licked my lips and leaned back into his growling chest, "That...was wonderful...You were wonderful, Lowell..."

"You mean that?" he panted into my right ear, now twitching at his hot breath.

I turned to him and spotted a twinkle of his auburn eyes from the glare of the TV.

"I mean it..." my words were precise and true. "You were fucking incredible, Low."

The cocky wolf laughed into the same shoulder he'd bitten, licking it again and kissing between my ears. "I think I corrupted you, Adam. You were so shy and...and reserved when I met you."

"Rescued me," I corrected while entwining my right paw with his. "You rescued me. Besides...I think I've always been a corrupted youth. What we did just proved it."

We relaxed together in a giggling, sweaty mess until the wolf and I discovered the strength to pick ourselves up. Lowell turned down the volume of the TV, switching it off and leading me into the bathroom.

Holy shit, I eyed the nearby wall clock, A quarter past midnight? Did we really have sex for nearly two hours??

_ _ "Can't believe the time," Lowell voiced my thoughts exactly. He peeled off the filled condom and unceremoniously tossed it into the garbage can, leaving a remainder of his seed to drip. "Seemed like hours to me."

A giggle escaped my throat as he and I entered the shower and cleaned ourselves up.

Moments later and Lowell turned off the lights. He guided me back to the bed without letting me hit my toe or knee against anything, then held me in a spooning hug. The wolf's arms weren't dry yet from the shower, but I didn't care. They still belonged to Lowell. My boyfriend, my comrade, my first.

"Adam?" he whispered into my ticklish ear. "It's uh...it's Gabriel."

Surprised by the blunt statement, I cracked an eye open.

"What?"

"I don't...I don't go by my real name, not anymore," he quietly explained, his uncertain yet determined voice soothing, "...not for years. Brings back some bad memories, but..." The canine behind me cleared his throat and scooted closer, his cold nose sending a warm shiver into the back of my neck, "I uh, I'd still like you to know. Lowell is my middle name, but my first name is actually Gabriel."

"Gabriel," I repeated the name on my tongue, then giggled. "Like the Archangel--the Biblical archangel--Gabriel, who spoke to Daniel about his visions and told the Virgin Mary she would be giving birth to the son of God."

"Kinda ironic then that you're not a virgin anymore, eh?" We both laughed shortly.

My paw blindly grasped his atop the enveloped blanket as I cuddled into his bare, warm chest. "Gabriel...I like it. Still, can I keep calling you 'Lowell'?"

His kiss on my spine made me wonder if we could go another round, for a moment.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Adam. Thank you."

Purring in exhaustion, I exhaled happily through my nose, "You're welcome, Low."

Oh well. I didn't mind sleep, not without him.