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Standard disclaimer:

This is a furry adult story containing gay males in sexual situations as well as explicit language and descriptions. No kids are allowed so this story is only for those who are 18/21 or whatever the age is at your legislation. If you are not of the legal age, you shouldn't view this story because you might lose your innocence. Also, by browsing this story you have done so by your own consent and wish to view such material. if you do not wish to view such material you should leave this site immediately.

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Hello, and welcome to read Love Letters.

If you enjoy the story, please take a moment to comment, vote, fav, etc. It will help me to be a better writer.

Have a good read!

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Wow...I just checked the clock and it's already past midnight...I've been writing this for hours now...I don't even known when it is going to be finished, but still, I think there is time yet to do it, so that it will be ready in time. At least I do hope so...I think I would be a perfect addition.

Yes, Daniel, I fell in love with you on that dark day that now stands out in my memory as one of blood and as one of heart. I woke up in the afternoon feeling warm and fuzzy and quite a bit hungry, too. I realized that it was past seven o'clock, and I had slept through most of the day. It even took me a couple of minutes to realize that you, Dan, were sleeping in the living room.

My heart felt like it was suffering from a severe case of angina when I hurried to put on my robe and slippers and then crept to the door and pushed it open a little to look out.

From my vantage point, I saw the television, dark now, and the couch where you were sitting. You were a heap of lion covered with a flowery-patterned duvet from your ankles to your neck, and you had your head resting against a paw that was cupping your cheek when you slept. Your footpaws and your big, strong tail couldn't fit the small couch so they hung over the armrest and I found that simply adorable.

It feels almost...strange to admit that I stood there and looked at you for what must have been minutes. My heart jumped against my ribs while I clutched the doorframe with my paws and willed myself to not to go and disturb you. I felt like going in to check that your pillow was well fluffed and that your blanket was nicely folded...and I don't think it was the nursing skills or profession talking this time.

I only dared to allow myself a few precious moments more of watching you before I tiptoed back to my bedroom and laid down, pulling the covers over me again, robe and all, and just laid there and listened to my own heart thumping. I felt both very alive and also, a twinge of the familiar pain I associated with attraction to unattainable straight guys. I didn't weep but my heart ached a little, even if my head was swimming with your masculine beauty...and the knowledge that you didn't even know that I could love you.

I rolled around in bed and groaned against a pillow quietly. I must have laid down there for a long time, and maybe I fell asleep, because the next thing I remembered was hearing a knock from the door and your voice asking if I was decent. I was one flustered Dalmatian when I quickly got up and rubbed my eyes and rushed to see you again. I felt uncharacteristically shy, though, as I ended up being eye to eye with you.

You still looked sleepy and...no way I'm going to write *sigh* here, but yeah, you looked really cute and boyish when you asked me if you could use my shower. I went back to mumbling almost incoherently and said something about spare towels and then escaped to the kitchen to get something to eat while I listened for the water running and imagined you rubbing shampoo all over your beautiful golden body.

My blush had not subsided once you appeared with only a towel wrapped around your waist and another rolled around your shoulders to catch any water dripping from your body. I could count a few more muscles on you than ever before, and it wasn't a diagnostic gaze. I offered you some freshly brewed coffee and told you that I didn't have too much food left since I had been looking forward to eating out with you. You took the coffee and smiled and told me that we could as well make up for that and asked me whether I knew good pizza parlours nearby that delivered.

Do you have any idea how erotic tomato sauce can be, Dan? I didn't know either, until about an hour later we were wolfing down the last remains of the pizzas we had ordered. You had small red stains on your chin and lips from eating the extra saucy triple cheese pizza, and we both were obviously ravenously hungry. I kept watching you and drinking Sprite and hoping that you would not catch me staring at you, even if I was very careful.

We ended up talking even more and soon it was almost 11 pm, and we were again having even more coffee and had migrated to the couch. The television was open and showing the late evening programming, but you surely must know by now that I wasn't watching.

Damn, I hope you can make out the last paragraph or so, my ballpoint seems to be running out of ink. A little bit of shaking seems to keep it flowing, so I hope to keep writing. Sorry, baby.

Right, I see I was writing about you again, what else? You ended up staying the night, and again I greeted you goodnight from the door to my bedroom before I withdrew in and went out to the bathroom to wash my teeth. I...well, it was quite the experience to enter and find my nose filled with you. You had hung the towels you used to dry on the ropes I had in for the odd laundry item. As a result a whole cloud of wet firelion surrounded me, and I must have been blushing like crazy when I tried to cover it all up with the spearmint from my toothpaste.

I wonder if you'd feel odd reading this, but I suppose I should admit that I took one of the towels and breathed your scent in, deeply, and held onto it until I couldn't bear to do it anymore. It wasn't right, I was hurting both of us, even if you'd never know about it, and hurting you was the last thing I wanted to do.

That morning we both had to wake up early for going back to work, so it again became a matter of arranging shower shifts and borrowing you a furbrush and I made us a small but palatable breakfast before we took the L-train up to Downtown and went on to our business. It might have been the strangest 24 hours I had ever spent together with someone, but I was...I was in.

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I know that I'm going to sound like a serious stalker for telling you this, but I didn't have the heart to wash those towels for weeks. They hung there as a reminder of the quiet hours we had spent together into my quiet apartment, together even when we didn't say a word. For most of the time I did manage to avoid them, but sometimes I simply had to catch a corner of that soft cloth and see whether you, Dan, were still present. Even when the scent slowly faded, my little trips to the bathroom continued.

Your friendship, however, was much more valuable for me than my hopeless crush, and that's why I put up such a brave face whenever I was with you. We'd still have these meals and joke around and send encouraging texts, and I know I smiled at you across the hall of the ER every time you'd come in with a patient. My lips ached from smiling so much and it did manage to overcome the ache from my heart, at least momentarily before it would catch up again and I had to remember the harsh facts of life.

I did try it once, you know, went out to a bar at night and watched the dancing and had a green drink with a small umbrella in it, got hit on by a bear and a cougar and then a wolf wanted to buy me a drink. I left even before it was midnight, after just one drink and feeling uncomfortable and lonely. I told myself many times that it was a very bad idea, but that night I wrapped that towel around a pillow and fell asleep nuzzling my Dan-scented bedmate. I could hardly face you again during the next day when your team came in with a couple of smoke inhalation victims.

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I'm seriously considering crossing these parts over, you know...but you know most of it already, so I'll let it be. Maybe you can have a little laugh over these couple of paragraphs, if you read this. I shouldn't have written this much anyway. It just seems that there is so much to say and...so many things I didn't think to speak about like this, before now. It almost feels like my words have failed you, baby. Perhaps it's this stupidly late hour in the morning that puts on the move and out of me via my ink-stained paw.

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Honestly, when spring was starting to turn over in April, I was seriously thinking about telling you I was gay, so that at least we were on the same page - you would know whom I liked, and if you'd like me back, you could make a move, and if it'd be cool, we could still be friends. I simply couldn't fathom the thought of you suddenly seeing me as a whole different person should you take me telling badly. I didn't think you would, knowing how kind and gentle person you were, but it is not something I dared to think about. Maybe I was wrong about a lot of things, including your tolerance. Maybe gay people would be okay as long as you didn't have to look them in the eyes and hear them confessing "I love you" with a shaky voice brimming with emotion. I wouldn't have put that beyond me at that point.

I battled the feeling for weeks, Dan, I was simply too...afraid to lose the precious little place I had managed to create for myself in your life. We had a strange interplay that happened in 24-hour diners and hospital corridors and staff rooms. Instead of tuxedos or nice clothes in general, for our outing we wore Nomex and blood-spattered scrubs and old lady shoes. Strawberries and whipped cream eaten off each other's lips became coffee drunk from cardboard cups and eaten with greasy sugar-glazed doughnuts. The jokes kept coming and the talk about nothing in particular, while we remained a mystery for each other. I was guilty worse than you, since the three words, "I am gay", I found to be almost impossible to utter.

Hell, I had done it before, there were a couple of co-workers, like nurse Linda, who had guessed the way I swung despite the fact that I was pretty much transparent in that respect. It didn't matter to them that I was gay, why should you be any different? Then I again had to remind myself that you were the one who had slept on my couch and sat next to me in a dark movie theatre and used my shampoo and sometimes gave me the best manhugs in the world. Seriously, I felt almost a little bit girly when that happened, and even if it wasn't often, I'd end up being giddy all over and walk in trance until your warmth evaporated from my furs.

One afternoon in April, I helped to suture a wound on the forehead of a fox who had been involved in a minor car crash with his life partner, a cheetah. Nurse Linda had delegated this assignment for me with a gently whispered opinion that I might be able to help the best if the incident would arise other kind of issues. They were actually a happy couple who simply had been tailgated, so at least I didn't have to start giving out domestic violence education. I even felt a slight twinge of envy as I watched the gently smiling cheetah stroke his lover's arm compassionately while I stood there, wearing a surgical mask and handing over the syringe of lidocaine for Dr. Anderson.

The bandaged couple was moved to observation and I made my way to the staff room to get a change since my shift was just about to end. I felt tired and emotionally spent and not to mention icky under my scrubs. All that was forgotten when I saw the familiar form of a certain firelion sitting on the couch and drinking coffee. We traded a quick hello and started to chat, and I went to get a coffee and asked what you were doing there. My heart leaped involuntarily when you told me that your shift had ended and you had decided to stay in for a while and see if you could catch me. We ended up into the position where we had been before a few times before, sharing the couch while drinking coffee and chatting. At least this time it wasn't in order to get the shock of a particularly bad case out of the system.

We sat there for a little while, unwinding in our own, quiet way. Then you surprised me completely by asking me...

"How'd did those boyfriends come out of that crash? We brought them in a while back."

I almost spluttered on my coffee and felt the heat over my cheeks as intense as it ever was.

"It wasn't too bad, you know how scalp lacerations are. Bleed like crazy. The cheetah only had a mild concussion and a couple of broken ribs," I remember explaining with my best clinical tone.

My eyes lingered over you as I tried to gauge your opinions on the prospect of boyfriends, and my heart hammered madly against my ribs. I shouldn't have been that much of a coward.

"Good to hear that all was fine," you spoke simply.

I held onto my mug and tried to keep my eyes and my voice level.

"Seemed to be an okay couple. The cheetah was really worried."

"Yeah, I think he did more damage to those ribs by hauling his guy out of the car than came from the crash itself," you laughed in that dangerously attractive way that I knew you were prone to do whenever I was feeling especially vulnerable for your charms.

I don't know if you remember that incident, baby, but I really, really wanted to tell you everything on that moment, when you were expressing what seemed to pleasure with the state of things for those two obviously gay fur. I wanted to spill it all out and tell you that yeah, I was one of "them" too and that keeping it from you felt like tearing off my fur one hair at a time. I could've as well been covering up a triple homicide. With the bodies hidden in YOUR basement.

And still I didn't manage to it. I managed to smile politely at your slightly risqué joke and then hide my muzzle in my mug as I drunk the poisonous dark liquid and hoped I would not get an ulcer before I was 50. I sat there quietly while you finished up your coffee and patted my shoulder and said that you had to get going since you were busy tonight. I didn't dare to ask what your source of business might be, but I told you to enjoy your night.

I took the L-train home like I always did every night and cursed my stupid state of existence at the moment. I almost whipped out my phone so that I could choose your number and text: "I'M GAY. SORRY I DIDN'T TELL YOU BEFORE." Thankfully, I got some sense to my head and didn't resort to such desperate measures to have at least some peace of mind. Instead I went into my flat and poured myself some of my very much rarely touched brandy and watched Brokeback Mountain from the DVD while wrapped in the fluffy blanket under which you once slept.

Talk about being a drama queen, right? Maybe I should cross that over and blacken it so that my ridiculous lovesickness will never reach your eyes. I don't think I ought to have written some of that stuff...but I don't think I should keep it away from you. It's forever, after all, that we're talking about, so everything will come out sooner or later. I wish I would have been brave enough to spare us both.

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