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Hehhey y'all!

Welcome to today's chapter of Hockey Hunk - which I'm proud to say is 4,000 words long, and right on time - yay! I had a huge amount of fun writing this chapter, and I hope it shows for you guys - sometimes words simply flow so nicely, that it's a pleasure to keep on typing and scheming yet another fun plot twist for us all to enjoy.

Only a few more chapters to go until we reach the fabled 100 chapters - who would have thought? I really can't believe this has been going on for this long...but I know that it will be written for as long as it feels fun, and I sure are having fun!

Don't forgot to comment - and also remember that all votes, faves and watches will help others to find these stories to enjoy as well. New readers are coming in weekly, thanks to your continued support of the story. Thank you, everyone!

Have a good read, and see you soon!

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For a single, throbbing mad second I thought about smacking my paw across any elevator buttons that might happen to be under my fingers and send the mobile box into flight and take us out of the harm's way. It would've been quite easy to do, of course. I had been standing there at ready, anyway, because Peter had told me to do the honors of touching the filthy number "3" on the control panel, while he tried not to feel too queasy at the prospect of being sealed inside a widely populated box that probably still contained some pretty funky bacteria-laced air.

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All this was obviously not possible to accomplish within the limits of time left before Peter and I were to be subjected to something I could never have imagined, not even in my wildest chemically induced hallucinations after my recent operation. This was something else, surreal, incredible, and odd, and...

"Oh my goodness!" the voice was still the same, loud, bright and oddly musical, and it echoed from the mirrored walls of the elevator car and made my ears fall into self preservation mode automatically.

I turned to look at Peter, and I saw his wide eyes above the top edge of his surgical mask.

"Why I can't believe this!" the voice...oh the voice...only a few feet away now...closing...

And BOOM!

There you go, the tall lion with his green black-rimmed beret, black leather case, purple corduroy pants and a broad, mad smile on his muzzle squeezed himself past me on the doorway of the elevator and into the car in an instant. Somehow, though I'm not quite sure why, he seemed to fill up the rather sizable car much more than his actual physical size should be able to do, but I guess...I guess that's what you had to take into account when dealing with...

"Nicholas!" my muzzle fell a little bit open, and my paws clutched onto the handles of my crutches, in a desperate bid to maintain my balance.

"Gliese!" the lion declared ,his ears flicking so much that they threatened the carefully arranged artsy asymmetric positioning of his tacky beret.

The lion put down his case onto the floor and stepped forward, and before I had time for a single breath, I felt paws on my shoulders and the lion was looming closer...awfully close, in fact, since his coffee-scented breath was certainly tickling my nose and making me...

Oh God...

The lion tilted his head and attacked the side of my muzzle instead.

"Mhoah! Mhoah!" I think that was probably the sound he made as he smacked his lips and gasped on each side of my muzzle, kissing the air there in his best approximation of a Central European...greeting, I supposed, which he accomplished quickly, and then stepped back, and still smiled broadly.

"Gliese..."he smirked as his paws fell from my shoulders.

Then he seemed to notice the other familiar face in the room...even if mostly obscured by the presence of the mask covering Peter's features.

"But...oh dear...it's Sinclair, isn't it now!" his eyes seemed to become even wider, and the curve of his lips become pronouncedly round.

I gave Peter a desperate look, and chuffed my nose clear of the strange scent mixture of coffee, natural musk and some cologne that created the strange bouquet closely associated with the feline who has just crashed onto us, and whose name was...

"Faye", Peter rumbled.

Nicholas Faye's lips pulled into a broad smile, and he smacked his paws together in a sharp clap that made my ears want to stay even more firmly pressed against my skull.

"It is Sinclair!" the lion declared happily and lunged forward. "Hello!"

He got one paw onto Peter's shoulder, and he was leaning to perform his continental air kisses, but Peter got an arm folded across his own chest in an instant, and he hissed under his mask, so powerfully that I could see the white paper of the mask bulge out with the force of the puff of air.

"No touching and no kissing, please," Peter growled.

Nicholas' tail swayed sharply from side to side, and even if I could only see his profile, I could see that the lion was surprised by this repulsing reaction to his cheerful approach. His ears certainly flicked quickly, and he quirked a brow...and then he removed his paws and simply stood there.

"Oh I'm sorry," he said in quick breath, "Are you...ohh...contagious, or something?"

Peter's eyes glared defiantly.

"No, but you might be, Faye," Peter grunted. "I'm immunosuppressed."

Nicholas' expression turned decisively less cheerful now, and I wondered whether he was feeling a sudden urge to step a bit further away from Peter...or...if perfect world existed...out of the elevator completely.

"Ohhh...ohhh..."

Please say it's AIDS, I thought, dirtily, and desperately, I suppose, and not too nicely, but maybe that would have been enough.

Maybe.

"I had a kidney transplant a few years ago," Peter said in a remarkably matter-of-fact tone. "Don't want to take any risks with it."

Nicholas gave him a long look, before he nodded, and then, much to my surprise, he was again lifting his paw and coming to pat Peter's shoulder, but stopped mid-air, and instead, appearing just a little sheepish, let it fall back to his own side.

"Ahhhh....ahhhh....oh yes....I...of course, didn't you start having problems already back in our old undergrad days?" the lion stated curiously.

"Yep," Peter nodded. "Ended up needing a new kidney."

"Ahhh," the lion nodded again.

Then he turned to look at me.

"And how about then, Gliese?" he looked at me from toes to eartips, obviously curious and perhaps wondering whether I, too, had any life-threatening medical conditions. "What's with the crutches? And would you please press number 3 please, I don't think we should be keeping the elevator occupied as we are, hahaha!"

I cringed internally, but I used my good left paw to hit the indicated button quickly. The elevator sent out a warning chime, and closed its doors with a gentle whirring sound.

Now it was me, Peter, and Nicholas Faye, sealed in a four by four-sized metal mirror box, and there was no way to escape from the lion for the next...20 seconds or so.

"I was in a car accident recently," I said, hoping that it was an explanation that would suffice for the nosy cat, and that I wouldn't have to go into the details.

Nicholas flapped his paws together again, and now that we were in a confined space, it sounded even louder than before.

"Ohhh how unfortunate, Gliese!" he exclaimed, and his voice rose a clear octave's worth within a few syllables. "Hopefully you are well on your way to recovery."

"Yep," I said, almost mimicking Peter's earlier tone.

Nicholas smiled and flashed his teeth as he did so. They weren't probably quite as white as he'd hope them to be, I suspected, but the lingering smell of coffee in his breath told me the clearly possibly reason for the state of his dental equipment. Coffee with milk, I thought No crumbs on his chin, so he probably drank it plain...or was a very neat cat, and got rid of the remains of his treat before he rushed into this elevator and turned my life upside down again.

"I must say that this is extraordinary," Nicholas purred tumultuously, "Three of us of from the class of 2005, all coming together just like this!"

He snapped his fingers, and made Peter's ears flick sharply. Mine were already too flat to really have much room for reactions anymore.

I just kinda...stared...at the overwhelmingly animated face of the lion with the beret, and I kinda...agreed with what he said.

"Yeah, who would have guessed?" Peter rumbled.

Nicholas was just about to say something, but the elevator came into a stop, and the doors opened with their usual warning chime. Nicholas gave a quickly glance at the newly emerging portal, and was quick to grab his case from the floor, and smile goofily.

"Well, come on now, let's not hold this elevator up!" he said as he walked out of the elevator, backwards.

I gave Peter a look and wondered whether he, too, was thinking of saying that we suddenly had to go back downstairs because we forgot the car lights on, but the cougar seemed to be more interested in getting out of the confined air space of the elevator, and walked past me and out into the third floor corridor.

Resigned to my fate, I made my slow, careful way out of the elevator car, and made sure that my tail was clear of the doors before I could feel the full relief of having solid floor under my paws.

"And back in the good old place we are!" Nicholas declared as soon as I was within conversation range, that is, standing right next to Peter on one side of the corridor while he stood in his majestic solitude on the other side, right next to a big plastic trashcan labeled "FAILED PHOTOCOPIES AND PRINTS ONLY."

I realized we were close to the photocopier station, which would be to my right, I thought, and gave a look down the corridor to see the sliding door into the said room to be partially open, and some noise was coming out of there as well. To my left, the corridor leading towards the English department was wide open, lined with a few plastic chairs and filing cabinets, and, of course, the soda machine that Peter had promised to use to provide me with a nice drink while I waited for him to take care of his business with Professor Hartnell.

Now, it seemed, we had become entangled in a whole different kind of business, and that involved the inimitable presence of one Nicholas Faye, who seemed to be exuberantly happy to see two familiar faces...and I wasn't so sure where that feeling came from.

It was really so sudden that I didn't even know what to think about it. Sure, I hadn't me the said lion, or any other furs from my course in a long time, and I guess it could have, in theory, tickled any sentimental feelings of nostalgia I might have harbored for my student years...but oddly, I didn't feel much of that.

Maybe it was the fact that Nicholas looked exactly like he used to do back in those days, too. The corduroy pants, the shirt, which had a broad open collar so that you could see a V of his golden chest, the ornate buttons on the lapels, the beret...oh, the beret...oh God, the beret...the only thing really missing was the fad of the time, the mottles you painted on to yourself so that you'd look really edgy and mysterious and fashionable.

Yeah...sorry to say this, folks, but Nicholas Faye looked exactly like I used to look like back in 2005, when the three of us graduated and went on our merry ways to conquer the world and shape it into our image...and now we had been flung together in this stuffy corridor in the one place where we had last met.

"So, Gliese, Sinclair, are you guys still together?" the lion said after the pause after his earlier declaration had grown to be a whole 10 seconds without anyone speaking.

My eyes instantly darted to Peter's, and I desperately, and with my belly rapidly filling with butterflies, I hoped that he would not take the question too badly. I was 100% sure that he didn't want to say anything about George to the all too curious lion, let alone make any other concessions to Nicholas who was looking at us two with his big, blue eyes.

I hurried to speak.

"We're just friends, like always have been, Nicholas," I said firmly, and tried to keep a good, steady expression on my face, that would be polite and nonetheless speak of the good, warm, firm commitment and affection I felt for Peter, and that the feeling was mutual.

The lion's eyes darted from me to Peter and then back to me, and then he rubbed his chin, and allowed his ears to flick. They made little grooves onto the smooth surface of his beret.

"Awww...but I always thought...oh, it's a pity...especially with the new marriage law in the works, I hear...ohhh I'm sure you'd make lovely groom and groom!" Nicholas announced.

My tail practically tied itself into a knot upon me hearing this outrageous statement, but the only thing I really could feel was fear for Peter's comforts, and how would react to such things being spoken...thinking that maybe...well, I was thinking, that perhaps he...perhaps it would have been something he and George...perhaps.

Peter cleared his throat.

"So how about you, Nicholas, then?" Peter retorted, with not a hint of discomfort in his voice...or I was quite sure that I didn't hear any, I hoped. "Are you ready to walk down the pink aisle with your one and only?"

Nicholas waved his paw in the air in front of him and painted an abstract shape there, and let out an amused burst of "HEH!" in his wake.

"Ohhh I might have left my share of broken hearts along a few continents, heheh," the lion winked, "but for now...oh yes...happily single, and always looking for a good time."

He flashed another of his charming smiles and seemed quite happy about himself as he did so, and I guess that was Nicholas' way of dealing with this world....by being quite happy with himself.

Peter and I gave him polite smiles.

"So what brings you guys back to Taylor?" Nicholas wouldn't give us a break, it seemed to me, as he pushed on with the rapid fire small talk, just like that. "Simply wanting to refresh some memories, is it now?"

Peter's tail slapped against his own ankles.

"I actually work here," he said, and then lifted the case he held in his own paw, and gestured with it to make sure that the lion would see what he was carrying, "I am Professor Hartnell's assistant."

Nicholas' eyes widened into a newly vigorous expression of surprise, and I suspected that he was having a hard time not clapping his paws together, like he usually did when he encountered particularly fascinating to him.

"Ohhh, you too, Sinclair!" he exclaimed. "I must say I had no idea!"

Wait....

Did I just hear...

"I work from home," Peter said, "I don't come here much."

Nicholas snapped his fingers.

"Well that explains it," he smiled. "Good old Bill...I was just talking with him this morning, he had this most extraordinary anecdote about something...uhmm...."

"So are you saying that you work here, Nicholas?" I spoke my mind.

Nicholas gave a look, and I wondered whether it was surprise at the question, or simple surprise that someone else besides him was making questions, or talking, or whether he was showing some displeasure that the fact that I never got around to doing what he always insisted furs did and called him by his last name. He always called everyone by their last names, in a manner I suspected was an idea he had got from some novel set in a Victorian all-boys boarding school rife with unresolved homoerotic tension, and where...chums...would call each other by their last names, to show aristocratic respect and good manners.

"Why, of course!" Nicholas beamed. "I've been here for a couple of months now."

Peter gave him a look.

"Isn't this a bit late in the year to hire new staff?" he suggested.

Nicholas snuffled loudly.

"Well I'm not really new staff per se," the lion grinned, "I have been on the payroll for a while now, because I was working for the university when I was in the UK to finish up my doctoral thesis."

My breath caught in my throat.

"You did a PhD?" Peter didn't seem to have any trouble speaking, though, and instead, he defiantly faced the lion on the other side of the otherwise deserted corridor.

"Sure," Nicholas grinned. "Code switching in English language advertising aimed for the Spanish-speaking consumers. I did it for Professor Allis-Burke. I must say that she was well impressed."

Excuse me...what?

How was it that the same lion who once struggled to write his puny BA thesis because he was living an active gay happy student life was now boasting about completing the ultimate exercise in academic prowess. He must've been joking...he was always prone to the extravagant and amazing, and perhaps this was his idea of a joke.

"And you work here?" I asked, wanting to be sure about what to think about this new piece of information in regards to the lion's occupation.

"Yeah!" the lion grinned all too boyishly. "I teach a seminar on code switching at the intermediate level and I'll start an introductory discourse analysis group when the autumn term comes, and I've got a lot of other fun stuff going on as well, I feel quite at home!"

Oh my fucking God.

"Well, congratulations, Faye," Peter nodded.

Nicholas beamed.

"Thank you, Sinclair," he grinned and licked his lips. "I'd give you a hug of gratitude, but...no touching ,yes?"

Peter shook his head.

"Not under any circumstances," he hissed in a way that was probably a little bit less friendly than it had to be, normally.

I felt quiet pride for him, just like that

Nicholas turned his gaze at me, now that his friendly gay hug had been repelled for now, and for a brief moment I wondered whether he might get the idea of giving me a hug that would be kinda like hugging Peter, but only by proxy, in a way.

"How about you, Gliese?" the lion grinned. "What do you do? Flying high and fast?"

I tensed, but somehow I managed to keep a brave face plastered on my muzzle. There was no way I was going to cave in and show any kind of weakness in the face of one Nicholas Faye Jr. who definitely was not worth getting upset over...even if he had good looks, a good job, and academic respect.

Let's make one thing clear right here and there, too. I never, under any circumstances, and never fucked Nicholas Faye Junior.

Not my type.

I swallowed.

"I've done some copywriting," I said, keeping my voice steady, "and I currently work in retail, actually. Can't have any complaints in this time when so many are without jobs, I think."

Nicholas' smile didn't waver.

"Quite right, quite right..."the lion nodded, and kept smiling, and let his ears stay still over his enviously stylish beret. "It's most important to keep the right outlook in life, isn't it? Set your goals and work hard until you're there!"

Fuck...now he sounded like Alex.

Maybe it was the fact that he was making me want to crawl under something and weep.

I wondered whether he kept that butt hidden in those corduroy pants firm with a healthy dose of karaokespinning every day. Maybe they went to the same karaokespinning hall with Alex, and he got a good eyeful when Alex sauntered to the showers and strutted his stuff.

"Sure," I flicked an ear at him, as if I was feeling especially cheerful and happyhappy and fully agreeing with the lion's statement.

A couple of students appeared from the stairs nearby and walked past us, all busy in their own little thoughts, I was sure, carrying backpacks and shoulder-slung bags and chattering to each other. Nicholas smiled and nodded to them courteously.

"Good day," he smiled widely, and got a single nod, from a coyote who was the slowest of the bunch, and probably couldn't escape in turn.

"Awww, they look so young, don't they?" Nicholas mused, while his eyes lingered on the furs disappearing going further and further away from us, on the corridor. "First years, I think. Makes me feel...30, haha!"

His delighted, ringing laughter made my ears feel decisively a bit less delighted, but I guess there was nothing else I could say to that.

Nicholas pulled the sleeve of his shirt and revealed a shiny metal-colored wristwatch, held in place by a black leather strap. His ears flicked with surprise.

"Hmmm...I seem to have a half an hour before I have any pressing engagements," the lion declared with his eyes still on the face of the clock. "Would you care to join me for coffee in the staff room? Heheh, I know I just had some, but who counts those cups, anyway?"

He waved his paw flippantly, as if a budding stomach ulcer was just something to joke about, like that.

I quickly looked at Peter. He was my only hope, really, considering that Peter was here on a mission and I simply tagged along, and it was Peter who had the meeting with Professor Hartnell, and he could tell Nicholas as much. The lion was getting a bit tiresome all told, especially in my current state of mind where I really wasn't in the mood for any blasts from the past, such as one Nicholas Faye...Ph.D.

Maybe Peter read my mind, perhaps he did...it sometimes felt like he did that, I thought.

"Well, we would love to, but I think Professor Hartnell might be already waiting," he gestured with his case again, "and he's been looking forward to going through this with me."

Nicholas gave the case a passing glance.

"Might that have anything to do with his dialect project?" the lion inquired.

"New England part of it, yeah," Peter nodded.

Nicholas grinned.

"Well you're a Philly boy, aren't you, you're bound to fit in right there!" the lion smirked.

Peter shrugged.

"Never thought that my hometown had anything to do with the work I do on the dialect project, "Peter snuffled.

Nicholas rubbed his chin.

"Shame that you don't have the time...I would've loved to hear all the local town gossip, after being away for so long, and I haven't really had the time to hit the nightlife yet," the lion grinned. "Maybe I'll catch you later in one of the old places, heheheheh."

"Maybe," I rumbled.

Nicholas winked.

"Doing the good old Saturday night hot and heavy conga line at the Ramrod, perhaps," the lion licked his lips, "Good times."

"Perhaps," I muttered, not really sure whether I liked the idea of the bereted lion shaking his booty on the dance floor of the infamous gay club.

"Been ages," the lion kept on grinning, "back here, of course...I wasn't a stranger to the clubs back in London...those European boys are cheeky alright and not afraid to have some proper fun."

The lion's flirty gaze didn't make me feel all too appreciated, all told, and I was pretty damn sure that Peter wasn't much feeling the charm of Nicholas Faye Jr. either though with the mask on, I only really had his ears for a proper measure.

"Heheh," I chuffed.

"Well you bet!" Nicholas grinned. "Speaking of which..."

I saw that he gave a glance to his left, and I felt compelled to look into that direction as well, to see what might be there that made the lion smile in such a manner.

A new group of students had arrived up to the corridor via the stairs running up here from the lobby. There was a tall, slim fox girl, dressed in a Taylor University T-shirt and with a shoulder-slung bag, and she was flanked from both sides by a goofily smirking jaguar and a shaggy-furred wolf who had casually hooked his thumbs under the straps of his backpack. Black cables coiled over his chest and ended in the small earplugs hidden in his ears, and they, if anything else, told me that this wolf was none other than Mason.

Nicholas smiled broadly.

"Ohhhh Reilly, Stephens, Lambert, hello there!" the lion waved his paw in a big, flamboyant curve.

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