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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 everyone,

here's the long overdue next instalment to my ongoing series "Love Letters". I know that it's been way too long since the last chapter, but I've always felt that this story needs to be told in its own pace.

Special thanks to Tank Jaeger who once again gave me a kick to grab this story and do something about it. I hope this will be fine.

If you have any comments about the story, please drop me a few lines! It'll help me to become a better writer.

Enjoy the read y'all!

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But we both know that things were not bound to be quite that smooth, baby. Even now I both want to bawl and to hit myself at the thought of keeping myself on the end of that noose, unable to come to grips with the fact that I had the most serious case of a straight crush ever. I didn't know what to do. I practically forgot to drink the cups of coffee you bought for me on the diner because for the most part I could only watch how the little bits of sugar got stuck to your whiskers and chin.

You were both my blessing and my terror, Dan, I...I'm not ashamed to say that to you, because you know that it's true, more true than any feeling I ever felt. I loved Daniel Hobbins, EMT, who looked great in his Nomex jacket. Every night I'd curl up to the corner of my couch and watch ER and House DVD's until I'd forget that I actually was a genuine emergency nurse and that the good-looking lion doctor didn't look absolutely nothing like you.

I knew I was in an impossible situation. I wanted to tell you how much you meant for me. I wanted to tell that sometimes I hugged a pillow and hoped it was you. I wanted to tell you that sometimes my thoughts on you weren't so innocent at all. All of that I knew to be out of the question. We were friends, but male friends don't just suddenly come up with declarations of affections spoken with a meaningful look and a hope for the tightest hug of the lifetime. There was the problem that I was not even out to you, let alone to most of the world. Saying: "I am gay and by the way, I'm in love with you" in the same sentence would only cause the worst fallout imaginable.

You must think of me as the most two-faced Dalmatian ever, thinking how many times we were together, at my place or your place or at the diner or at the movies and wherever we went out together. Hidden behind those smiles and flicked flappy ears was a lustful, desperate creature wanting to cling onto your sizeable chest and whisper sweet nothings into your skin. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to think.

"I love you, Dan."

I remember the first time I said it aloud. It happened after a quick one-armed manhug we shared before you had to leave for the fire station to start your shift. The door closed behind you with a thump and there I was standing, feeling like a blushing schoolgirl after that brief physical contact. I could still hear your steps going down the corridor outside the door and I just stared at the blank surface of the door and whispered the words I needed to speak.

"I love you, Dan."

But, to speak those words might mean losing what we already had, our friendship that meant everything to me. I could not go doing things like that. I could not go on at all.

Thus, I was left with only one choice. I would have to tell you at least something. I needed to know if you could accept that part of me, even if we would never be more than friends. I never expected us to be more than friends, but the guilt of...feeling all this, and deceiving you from such an important part of my personality was not something I could do anymore. The lie started to feel worse than the possibility of rejection, as a friend, as a person, simply because I could love someone. That, of course, left me the problem of how I could ever spill the beans without you suspecting that my reason of telling was that I hoped that maybe if I told I was gay, you might...have a long pause and speak something meaningful and there'd be looks and softly whispered words and whatnot.

My bottle of brandy was consulted on the subject as I brooded at home and tried to run possible scenarios in my head. Phoning or messaging you was out of the question, because that felt like a copout solution to something so much needed. A dinner followed by confessions...I might as well turn up with a diamond ring and hide it into your chocolate cake and ask you to be my something for as long as there is life. Asking you over for a night of pizza and movies sounded relaxed enough, but still...how the hell could I steer conversation to that direction? Possible girlfriends had hardly ever been mentioned besides a quick and cheeky: "You done much fun lately?" with the emphasis on the word FUN and combined with a meaningful look.

How was that going to work anyway? Could I even bring myself up to speak the G-A-Y word? Saying "Oh, I am also a practicing homosexual" didn't quite fit either. I wasn't confessing to a crime, after all, and it sounded more like: "I'm a practicing crossdressing necrophiliac." No medical terminology, I decided. I just needed the perfect time and the perfect words and the perfect...perfect.

Did I already mention in the letter that you're perfect, too? There're so many of these smudgy pages here that I don't think I have it in me to go through it all again. This has to make for you before the big time, after all, and you have to read it too, Dan.

Well...you do remember that time when it was about 5 am and we were drinking coffee and eating those MI-inducing cream-filled doughnuts. It was snowing a little outside, but the blowing wind made all the snowflakes fly merrily in the cold late winter air. I can't remember what we were talking about at the moment, but what we said next I do recall with clear precision.

"Oh, Speckle, Rodriguez had his cubs last night back at the County," you said.

I looked up from my half-eaten doughnut and if it wouldn't be so cheesy to say it...oh, well, yeah, I was lost in your eyes and your smile the moment I saw you again.

"Oh?"

I couldn't really remember who Rodriguez was, but it didn't matter. You were smiling.

"Yeah, two new healthy four pound mutts were welcomed into this world at 2:17 am last night," my lion beamed.

"That's great news," I smiled.

"I was starting to worry that Rodriguez had a hysteric pregnancy or something like that, he was worrying himself sick, barfing and all, seriously!"

Your laughter sounded even more deep and bursting than usual in the silent confines of the nearly deserted diner.

"Sympathetic pregnancy has been known to occur," I tried to sound all professional about it.

"More like pathetic," he chuckled, "silly to see a big bodybuilder husky like that, trying to decide whether to have frills or no frills in the baby clothes."

Did I ever tell you how cutely the corners of your eyes wrinkle when you smile? I must be too tired already to remember small things like that. Sorry about that, babe.

"Sounds like amazing fun for those watching, though."

"Yeah!"

Your smile could smelt stainless steel.

I tried to drink my coffee and not to get too much worked up by you being so boyishly handsome and cute all the time and scratching the side of your sheared neck.

"You ever thought about settling down and being the soccer dad and all that, Speckle?"

I practically went into a cardiac arrest upon hearing your words. It was almost like a needle thrust between my ribs and into my pericardium, with those simple, fairly innocent words. It sounded like a bait...even if it sounded so innocent. You just were curious about your friend's opinion about family, after all.

I was still being a coward and I knew that. I also knew that you were hanging right there waiting for what I had to say. What could I say?

My paws clasped the coffee mug in my paws with constrictive rigour while I tried to hold your eyes with mine. I...I had never found looking at you so hard before, and it was almost a shameful feeling.

"I never really gave it much thought to be honest."

I know it sounded like I was stalling. You, on the other paw, simply smiled again.

You had sugar bits in your chin again.

"Enjoying the freedom of being untethered to anyone, Speckle?"

My tail twitched as I tried to be brave for your sake, for our sake.

"It's...well, you know the crazy schedules I have for work, it's a bit difficult to...find the time."

My imaginary ulcer made my belly clench painfully as I hoped that didn't sound too defensive. It didn't help that as soon as I said it I knew that if you thought about it any more carefully, you'd realize that whatever time I would have at my paws for pursuing a romance I spent with...you.

"Yeah, talk about it," you chuckled, still scratching the side of your neck thoughtfully.

My skin felt like my spots were about to fell off.

"Doesn't mean I haven't tried," I spoke as calmly as I could, "I used to go out with a radiology nurse, back at the Hope hospital. That ended a few years back."

Your ears flattened.

"Sorry to hear that."

"I'd like to say that it ended because of clashing schedules but...it was more than that."

I was still going on in cowardly circles, even with you giving me compassionate eyes and your gentle smile. I wanted to hug you so badly.

"Sometimes things just don't work out."

"That's what Ken said."

I'd like to say that it slipped, I really would, but I can't lie to either of us. It had to be spoken and it had to be told, to you, from me, when it was still not too late. That doesn't mean that I didn't feel like I was going to throw up all over the plastic-covered table. My heart was beating so erratically that I was almost hoping for a crash cart to be found in the vicinity. Death by extreme arrhythmia brought on by coming out of the closet...wouldn't that be the height of irony, baby?

I could barely meet your eyes. I could barely breath. I didn't want to see the scowl of disgust that could be there.

"Did it last long?"

I couldn't have expected those words from you. They were spoken so casually that I was confused for a moment, shell shocked and embarrassingly frayed.

"About three years," I whispered. "We already met at medical school."

We both were quiet for a little while.

"I...guess you're not seeing anyone now?"

I still think that you said that on purpose.

I just shook my head and took a sip of my coffee in the hopes that it could offer some calming effect for my nerves.

There I was, out and proud, and now you knew. And the next thing you asked was if I wanted another doughnut.

I said yes.

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Thank you for reading my story. If you have any comments, please be encouraged to write them down. It'll help me to become a better writer.

Cheers!