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Charlie and James By Ken Anderson

Chapter 14: Making Plans

My body squirms impatiently under the comfort of the soft, thick blanket... It's telling me to move... I can feel my ears perk up immediately as I open my eyes.

...What a beautiful morning...

The corners of my muzzle slowly twist their way into a smile...

I can hear the birds outside of our apartment windows chirping happily, their gentle songs serving as my peaceful alarm. "It's time to wake up," they tell me. "Wake up and greet the day..."

I breathe out a contented sigh as I tilt my head up to stare through the cracks in the blinds. Soft, orange sunlight streams through the windows above the bed, casting a faded glow over the blankets covering my body... So warm...

I turn to my left, and spy James sleeping soundly next to me, his head resting peacefully against my shoulder as he dreams. He looks so serene... I lean over, and plant a gentle kiss on his forehead, letting out a comforting murr as my lips press against his skin. He stirs slightly, tugging my arm closer as his slumber continues. God, I love him... My long tongue draws slowly across his cheek, pride warming my heart as I consider everything he's done for me... I slip my free arm under my head, and stare at the ceiling as I start to think about everything we've been through together...

It's been a month since he came back. So many things have happened... So many changes...

It's a lot to handle, so I'll try my best to catch you up... I hope you don't mind; it may take a little while...

---

It all started with the fire at the Harbor City Docks....

Our little act of revenge against a pissed-off concert promoter... I remember the news reports; the investigation... I remember it all, word for word.

A week after the battle took place, it was still on the front page of every newspaper; on the tongue of every reporter hungry for justice and higher ratings... No matter where you looked, the story was always the same; like a neverending loop playing simultaneously on every channel...

"... Authorities are still speculating as to the cause of the four-alarm fire which occurred at the Harbor City docks. Although the flames have destroyed most of the usable evidence in this case, the police have released a statement blaming an explosion at a methamphetamine lab for starting the blaze. Police suspect that the fire was caused when an amateur chemist combined several highly-flammable and toxic chemicals in a dangerous manner, causing the mixture to ignite and destroying several warehouse buildings along the pier. It's believed that the chemist may have perished in the explosion. The authorities have confirmed that they have no suspects in custody at this time."

I remember shaking my head and chuckling the first time I saw the aftermath of the fire on the news... I don't know why; it just seemed a little funny to me... I guess I'm a sick bastard at heart... But that wasn't the clincher. That wasn't the story which got my attention. The one that made me stop and think was the short, two-minute piece that began to play immediately after the report on the fire ended...

"... On an unrelated note, the authorities have yet to make an arrest for the grisly gangland-style murder that occurred in downtown Harbor City yesterday... Johnathan Varezzo, a well-known local music promoter, was gunned down outside of a busy nightclub in front of nearly a dozen traumatized witnesses... The victim was known to have ties to many of Harbor City's local gangs, and the police are hinting that the hit may have been carried out as a result of of unpaid debts... We'll bring you more on these two tragic events as the story develops."

...And so, our problems ended. Well, mostly. At the very least, things started to get better from that point... But then again, that depends on your definition of "better..."

Chaos Theory's tour was postponed... It just didn't feel right, going on stage without Cory... but he's healing up. He was released from Harbor General a couple weeks after the fire. The doctors have him confined to a wheelchair while the skin grafts and second-degree burns on his head and torso heal... He hates that thing with a passion, and I can't say I blame him, but he seems slowly seems to be getting used to it...

Just the same, I don't think I've ever seen him so depressed.

Oz never leaves his side.

The otter's usual gung-ho attitude is nowhere to be found; it's like his crazy side went up in smoke with the flames that kissed the sky above the Harbor City docks that day... He spends every moment of his time caring for his mate; cooking his food, helping him around the house, talking to him when he suffers his intense bouts of melancholy... Cory's been having these episodes where he feels completely worthless, bordering on suicidal... He feels like an unneccesary burden on everybodys' shoulders... but Oz won't stand for that. He loves the guy to death... I can't count how many times I've seen Cory crying since he got out of the hospital, with Oz holding him snugly to his chest and whispering words of soft comfort into his ears...

They'll never stop caring for each other, no matter what happens...

You can't measure that kind of love in words; that true, heartfelt commitment... You can't even try... I know I'd do the same thing for James in a heartbeat if he'd ended up in Cory's position. I guess me and Oz have that in common. In the words of our generation, we're totally obsessed when it comes to the people we love... Yeah. That sounds about right...

Oz's mansion has been constantly undergoing repairs. Ever since Cory left the hospital, they've both been staying with Frank and his wife... I think Oz and his brother have finally started to get over their hatred for each other... I see them laughing together now, sharing drinks and sharing stories, growing closer by the day...

After so many years of mutual resentment, they're starting to act like true brothers. I guess every cloud has a silver lining... And it's always nice to know you've got family that'll help you out....

Seeing the two of them get along makes me think about whether I'll ever mend things with my dad... and makes me wonder if James' parents will ever come to accept us being together...

Nah... Fuck my dad... and fuck James' parents. We don't need their support. There... That thought is complete; moving right on...

The gang we attacked has gone into hiding. The cops have been swarming the city looking for answers to that promoter's murder, so everyone who was at the docks that day has made it a point to either leave town or lay low... I can't shake the feeling that they'll be coming after us for what we did... But we'll handle that if it comes to it. After all we've done, people should have learned by now that we're NOT the kind of guys you'd want to fuck with... People should know that we take care of our business... We take care of our little family...

As for my mate and myself, our situation has been steadily improving. James no longer goes out looking for work. He's decided to get into private practice, counseling his constantly growing list of patients from the comfort of our living room couch. It seems a little unorthodox, and our place looks nothing like a therapist's office should, but I don't mind. In fact, I'm happy for him. I love seeing my mate helping others with their issues, the way he continues to help me...

His well-earned reputation as a therapist has finally caught up to him. The locals are finally starting to see him for the kind of guy he's become, instead of the thieving junkie he once was... Every day, there's a new client. Every day, there's a new story... He still specializes in drug counseling and individual therapy, but recently he's extended his clientele to include anyone who needs help with anything at all... He restores so many lives, my mate...

I don't know how he does it. Taking on everyone's problems would likely drive me insane....

Even though he hasn't yet completed his education and received his master's degree as a licensed professional counselor, people have been coming to see him in droves.

Everybody loves him. Hell, I love him. But it's not just the local population who come to see him for his kind words and his gentle heart. Quite a few bigwigs from the financial district and musicians from out of town have been paying visits to our apartment as well... He's started counseling troubled rock stars and bankrupt stockbrokers... I guess it's because of me. Everybody knows our story by now...

Everybody knows about our chaotic, tumultuous life on the edge...

Everyone wants help from the guy who managed to turn it all around.

Oz attends regular weekly sessions to deal with his depression, and the post-traumatic stress of seeing Cory get injured. Zack and Cory attend sessions as well, to talk about their own issues, and make plans for moving forward... For Zack, it's his childhood... For Cory, it's his injuries... I don't even have to ask James, or peek at his session notes to know about these things; I've talked with the two of them myself...

Recently, they've all decided to follow my example, and try to get off the hard drugs... I always tell them that it's gonna be a long and slow, not to mention painful, road... But I have faith in them all. James charges the members of my band nothing for their weekly meetings; they're his friends, OUR friends... They're the only family the two of us have...

I'd be lying if I said I didn't take a few hours out of every passing day to sit down and talk to my mate about my own issues... I've had a lot going on in my head lately... The pain of losing him for so long, coupled with the nagging worry that somehow, I'm gonna lose him again... It's all too much for me to handle alone.

But he helps me; he comforts me. He sits there, and he listens, never once interrupting or judging me as I pour out my heart and my neverending love... And at the end of it all, he always smiles, and tells me that he's not going anywhere... He takes my paw in his hand, so that I can see the engagement ring around his finger, and he reminds me that we belong to each other...

"We'll be together until the day we die..." he says... "I'm never gonna leave you; you're all I have in this world."

His calming tone never fails to cheer me up... After having a conversation with him, I somehow always find my confidence and my happiness returning. I really don't know how he does it... My mate is a miracle worker.

... And me?

I've been doing much better. The opiate withdrawal symptoms have finally stopped; I no longer have to chug down a couple of disgusting bottles of Immodium per day to stave off my pain... I'm almost completely off the tranquilizers now; I'm down to half of a single tablet of Klonopin per day, and that's IF I decide I'm gonna need it... After a couple more weeks, I should be completely pill-free...

With each new day I wake up to, I can feel my strength and vigor returning. I've started to appreciate the little things again; those small, fleeting moments of pure elation that happen throughout each day. Everything has a meaning to me now... The songs of the birds outside of our bedroom window. The first light of the morning sun. The soft, soothing notes of my guitar as I pluck the strings and release the peaceful, gentle tones of my new material... Everything has a feeling... Everything brings joy. Those little, surprising, wonderful things can make me smile again.... I feel like I've been given a second chance. And I've come to realize that, at the end of it all, James had been right. Everything can only get better once I get off the drugs... We can only move forward from here.

We've got our entire lives ahead of us; even the sky seems within reach... And pretty soon, I have a feeling that we're gonna take our biggest leap of faith yet.

---

... I wonder how long I've been laying here, staring at the wall and thinking back over everything that's happened... Turning my head, I cast a glance towards the alarm clock on the bedside table, and see that it's almost noon. Damn. It must've been a couple hours, at least...

My gaze shifts to the large calendar tacked to the wall across from the bed. Each date is filled in with the names and appointment times for James' numerous clients. I squint as I try to make out the schedule for today. A slight frown forms across my muzzle when I notice that he has an appointment for twelve o'clock. I realize that I probably should've woken him up earlier. Oh well, no time like the present, right?

I lift James' chin up from my shoulder with my free paw, and plant a kiss firmly on his lips. My claws trace their way through his soft hair as he gives a slight chuckle, before returning my intimate greeting. His hand comes up from under the blankets, and tickles the fur on the back of my neck as he sucks the air from my lungs and caresses my tongue with his own. We spend a few quiet moments snuggled close to each other, kissing slowly, lazily, until he breaks away and his eyes begin to open.

"Good morning..." I whisper. "Ready to start your day?"

"Mmmmm... Not yet." James replies, stretching his arms over his head, and giving me a seductive smile. "I'd rather stay in bed for a while... See if we can't have a repeat of last night..."

... And what did we do last night? I'm getting some movement downstairs as I think back to it... My legs are still shaking... I can feel the muscles in my calves twitching erratically as they remember exactly what we did... I think it was our first time fucking while standing up... I'd be lying if I said it wasn't interesting, but it'll have to be a while before I try something like that again. After all, I won't be able to get things done if I can't walk.

James strokes the fur on my cheeks softly, and lowers his head onto my naked chest. I smile and let out an appreciative growl, allowing my paws to trace over the long, pink scars on his shoulder and back before coming to rest around his waist.

"I'd love that..." I say, "I really would... But you've got a session in about twenty minutes, and besides, I wouldn't want one of your clients to end up waiting for you in the hall, listening to the two of us going at it. They actually pay you for your time, you know?"

He jerks his head up towards the digital clock, and his eyes go wide.

"Shit..." He curses under his breath, tossing off the blankets and hopping out of bed. I watch as he rummages through the closet, choosing his outfit for the day. He pulls on a pair of boxers, following them up with a white dress shirt, and a black pinstripe suit with matching slacks. He completes the ensemble with a pair of black leather shoes, polished to a glassy shine. I watch as he goes over to the mirror behind the bedroom door, and checks to make sure that everything is in place. I've started to get used to him dressing like this. I think it looks kinda sexy, actually... I've seriously considered donning a business suit for the photo shoot that's been scheduled for the band after Cory heals up... Maybe we should all wear suits; it seems like a cool idea...

"I'm sorry, Charlie..." he sighs. "I know you wanted us to spend the day together, but I promised this kid's foster parents that I'd see him this afternoon..."

I shake my head, and wave off his apology with a flick of my wrist. Sliding myself out of bed, I stride over to my mate, and wrap my arms around his body from behind. "You don't need to apologize to me babe," I whisper in his ear, "You can make it up to me tonight."

He chuckles, and nods his head towards a plastic comb sitting on the bedside table. "Can you grab that for me, please?"

I make my way over to the object, and toss it across the room to him. He catches it easily in one hand, and goes to work fixing his messy, tangled hair. I watch as he takes out a piece of black elastic from one of the pockets on his suit, and ties it all back in a shoulder-length ponytail. It makes him look a little intimidating... I wonder if his clients get scared when they first meet him...

"What're you gonna do while I'm working?" he asks me.

I shrug my shoulders, and slide open the drawer on the nightstand. My claws wrap around a nice-sized bag of pot, and I set it down on the table. The keys to the Chevelle are laying next to the alarm clock; I stick them in my pocket, along with a disposable lighter and my cigarette pack.

"I'm gonna go see how Oz and Cory are doing; they invited me over yesterday. I'm kind of nervous to see how Cory's been holding up... When I talked to him over the phone, he said he wanted to ask me something..."

"Any idea what it is?" James chimes in.

I shake my head 'no,' and make my way over to the closet to get dressed. I choose a black denim jacket with the sleeves torn away, and a pair of matching shorts. Harbor City's well-known summertime heat is finally starting to kick in....

"To tell the truth, I'm beginning to wonder about that, myself..." I say, as I dig my acoustic guitar case out from under the pile of clothes on the floor. If things get too quiet, I might have time to turn them on to some of my new stuff...

I lift the hard plastic case onto the bed, and flip open the latches to check on my instrument. The vintage Gibson J-45 glows softly in the streaks of bright sunlight streaming through the closed blinds. The sunburst pattern on its body shines with perfection, bringing a smile to my face as I run my paws smoothly along the guitar's neck. The expensive instrument was a gift from my mate after he'd finally started working again. He'd spent nearly all of the money he'd had left over from his time in Sandstone to buy it for me, knowing that it was something I'd treasure for as long as I lived... He knows how much I love my music...

He'd said he'd heard me playing the song I'd written for him on the radio, the night before he'd gotten on a plane back to Harbor City... He wanted me to know how much he appreciated my support, not to mention how much he cared for me... And I know; believe me, I know...

The guitar is amazing, but it still pales in comparison to having him back in my arms.

I turn my gaze away from the instrument, and retrieve the bag of weed from the nightstand. Lifting up the guitar, I stash it inside a small compartment meant for guitar picks and extra strings. Hopefully no cops decide to pull me aside and search me for drugs... Wait; actually, I'm more worried that they might want my autograph.

I close the sturdy case, and snap the latches shut. Turning towards James, I see that he's busy straightening out the collar of his pinstripe suit. The crease around the back of his neck just can't seem to stay put. I chuckle softly, and shake my head as I walk over to help him. Using my claws, I carefully fold the soft fabric down behind his neck, tracing the crease so that it remains firm. He smiles at me through the mirror as I give him another quick kiss on the cheek.

"There... Now, you look perfect."

"Thanks..." he replies. "Where would I be without you?"

I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly. "Probably dead or in jail." I say.

He scoffs, and turns around to punch me in the shoulder. I can't help laughing a little as I rub my throbbing arm.

"Tonight just became a 'maybe'..." he informs me.

My ears droop, and I let out a sad whine. I'm slouching my shoulders, and putting on my best puppy-dog eyes as I try to wear him down. I CANNOT be deprived of sex... I just don't work that way. Ever since I got off the pills, great sex and good booze have become the two things I spend most of my days looking forward to...

Well, there's always pot, but I can have that anytime I want.

My mate crosses his arms over his chest, and heaves a sigh as he takes in the desperation in my pleading eyes. He shakes his head, and throws his arms up in defeat. "One day, that's not gonna get to me, you know..." he mutters, as he slips a hand under my chin, and presses his lips against my muzzle. I wrap an arm around his back and pull him onto my chest as I force my tongue into his mouth. He gives a yelp of surprise, but goes with the flow as we continue to share our short moment of intimacy. I start taking slow steps backwards, towards our bed. I'm trying to take this to the next step... Before we can start slipping our clothes back off, however, the doorbell rings, making my eyes go wide and my fur stand on end.

James freezes, and quickly backs away. "That's my new client." he says, hurrying back to the mirror to make sure his outfit is still untouched. I silently scold whoever's at the door for having the worst timing... Oh, well. I shake it off and snatch up my guitar case from the bed, making my way over to the bedroom door. As I grip the knob in a paw and give it a twist, I lean over to give James one final kiss on the cheek. "I love you..."

"Love you, too..." he replies, checking himself over again as I exit the room.

I walk briskly through the living room to the kitchen, and pull open one of the cabinets above the sink. My claws wrap around the brown paper bag sitting on the empty plywood shelf; the bottle of expensive bourbon that I'd purchased a couple of days ago. As I hold it in front of me and study the label on the neck, I consider taking it with me and sharing it with Cory and Oz...

"Nah..." I decide with a smile. "I've got a better use for this..."

I replace the bottle and quietly close the cabinet door. I should save that stuff for later on tonight... I've got a feeling that James would enjoy having something nice before we start tearing each others' clothes off.

The thought brings forth a lustful growl, and I feel a slight arousal as I start going through the new positions I've been wanting to try out... Hell, I'm a dog, what can I say? Besides, you can NEVER have enough fun when it comes to sex... There's always more room for experimentation...

Alright, alright, damn you. I'll admit it, I've been INSATIABLE. Thankfully, my mate has been such a good sport.

I grip the handle of my guitar case firmly as I approach the front door. Using my free hand, I twist the locks, turn the knob, and swing it open. For a moment, I don't see anyone there. Then, for some reason, I lower my eyes, and they immediately come to rest on the skinny body of a very young coyote with white and gray fur. He's shaking uncontrollably in his ratty, dirt-stained white tank-top and ripped jeans, his paws trembling slightly at his sides as he stares up at me. His ears perk up as he seems to recognize who I am, and for about a second, all movement stops.

"Can I help you?" I ask him, trying to make my voice sound as calm and reassuring as possible. This kid looks seriously spun out.

"Yeah... Yeah, I'm here to see Dr. Clayton," He replies, his voice cracking as he struggles to speak. His ears start twitching again, and he raises an arm, extending a single claw towards me.

"Wait, you're Charlie, right? The singer from that band? I can't remember the name; what was the name? God, I'm so gone right now..."

He lowers his head, and gives it an embarassed shake. I can see the apology in his eyes as he turns back to face me. "Are you here to see him, too?"

I shake my head and smile.

"I live with him; I get to see him every day." I tell him. "He's my mate... and just a heads-up; he prefers to be called by his first name. But yeah, I'm Charlie; I play for Chaos Theory. What's your name, kid? What's your poison?"

I extend my paw so that he can shake it.

He lets out a burst of giddy laughter as he clamps both paws over it, and gives it what feels like a hundred quick shakes at once. I almost have to pull myself out of his iron-like grip. I don't think I've ever seen anyone so fucked up at such a young age... The kid barely looks like he's out of middle school. He must be all of twelve years old...

"Wow, that's great! You're awesome, man!" he blurts out. "I'm Jake, it's nice to meetcha! Sorry if I seem a little wired, man, I've kinda been tweaking... Yeah, I know; it's no good. Stuff's gonna kill me someday... But yeah, that's why I'm here. Do you think the doc can help me?"

I give him a slow nod, and shrug my shoulders.

"I really couldn't tell you, kid; it all depends on you. What I CAN tell you is that if you keep fucking with that crank, you're probably not gonna live to be my age... Hell, I barely made it this far myself... But you can trust me when I say that you're in good hands. James knows what he's doing. I promise that he'll do his best to help you; you just have to listen to what he says..."

Jake seems to stop twitching as much as he nods his head in understanding. I set my guitar case on the ground, and hold open the front door for him.

"Have a seat on the couch over there." I point towards the sofa in the living room. "He'll be out in a minute."

"Thanks, man, thanks." Jake mumbles, as he steps inside. He turns around before I can close the door, and bids me farewell. "It was nice meeting you."

I smile once more, and nod my head as I reach down to retrieve my guitar.

"You too, kid. You take it easy on that stuff, alright?"

I close the door softly behind me, and start to make my way towards the elevator. There's something about that kid... I've got a feeling about him. I can't explain it just yet; it's like some sort of weird vibe... Oh well, best not to think on it too much... I've got things to do today. I press the button for 'down', and tap my foot against the wooden floorboards as I wait patiently for the rusted, metal deathtrap to make its way to our floor...

---

Twenty minutes later, I finally manage to reach the small suburb where Frank's house is located. I can't help showing my appreciation as I take in the well-manicured lawns, lush green trees, and perfectly-built houses which line the street that the house is on. It looks pretty nice, actually... A lot of middle-class folks must be staying out here.

I've never ventured out to this section of Harbor City; I've never gotten to see how the "regular people" live... I mean, Oz's mansion is one thing, but I see rich people in their private castles every day... Out here, it's different... It feels kind of cozy, if you ask me...

I pull the Chevelle into the driveway of a nice-looking, ranch-style house. The exterior is covered in red brick, and there are large picture windows near the front door. It's exactly the kind of home that I could imagine Frank purchasing with his share of his parents' money. It looks like a great place to raise a faimly. I exit the car after grabbing my guitar case from the passenger seat, and close the door behind me. Opening my nostrils, I take in a deep breath of the clean, fresh air. Everything smells so much... BETTER... out here. With all the time I spend in the heart of the city, it all seems so different... I guess I thought the polluted, smoggy atmosphere of downtown Harbor City was the way it would be everywhere else... I can't believe how wrong I was...

Setting the case on the warm concrete near my feet, I stretch my arms and smile as the sunlight washes over my fur, warming my body and making me shiver with delight. I've GOT to get a place out here one day... A new home, for my mate and myself... I wonder what James would think, if he saw this... It's all so perfect.

I hear the squeaking of rusty hinges as the house's front door opens. A smiling female otter, her fur a soft tint of grey, sticks her head out from inside to greet me.

"Hey!" She calls over. "You must be Charlie, right?" Her voice carries a deep, southern twang. She must've moved up here a while back...

I nod my head, and make my way over to the door, the guitar case dangling from my paw as I approach. "Yeah, that's me." I say. She seems to smile even more brightly, and steps aside to let me through.

"The boys said you might be coming by," she informs me. "Oz and Frank are out doing a little grocery shopping, but Cory's in the living room watching TV. Why don't you come in?"

I nod my head once more, and take a few steps inside of her home. She closes the door after I enter, and reaches out a paw towards me. "I'm Tara, by the way," she introduces herself. "I'm Frank's wife."

I take her paw in my own, and give it a gentle shake. She gives me a pleased smile as she retracts her arm back to her side, and nods her head towards an open door frame to my left. "The living room's that way. Cory's been in a bit of a bad mood lately. I'm glad he has someone else to talk to besides Oz and Frank... You should go on in and see him. Feel like something to drink?"

I smile politely, and tell her that I'd appreciate it. "Anything you have would be nice," I say. "I'd even settle for some water, if nothing else..."

"Oh, we've got beer," she replies, swatting my suggestion out of the air with flick of her wrist. "Frank's kept the fridge fully stocked ever since his brother showed up. I'll get one for you."

I thank her profusely, and turn back to face the entrance to the living room. My chest heaves with a sigh as I slowly walk towards it, and my ears begin to fill with the white noise of canned laughter coming from the TV as I step in. Cory's sitting in his wheelchair, his back turned to me, as he takes in the mind-numbing faux-reality of the sitcom he's busy watching. He turns slightly in his seat to face me as he hears me coming. A faint smile plays over his face, and I see his tail swishing slowly behind him as his eyes trace their way over my body. I return his smile, and try my best not to notice the very large scars across the right half of his face. From where I'm standing, I can also make out the missing fur on his shoulders and back. He must've been running when the cocktail shattered...

"Hey, Charlie..." he greets me, his voice almost a whisper. I guess he's still feeling kind of down.

"Hey, man, how're you feeling?" I ask him, setting my guitar case on the floor next to my feet as I seat myself on the small couch beside his wheelchair. He shrugs his shoulders, and points towards the small coffee table in front of us. Looking down, I can make out the large cluster of pill bottles sitting within arm's reach.

"As you can see, the docs have basically written me off as a lost cause," He explains. "They said all I can do is wait to see if my fur grows back. Until then, they think the best route is to pump me full of painkillers, tranqs, and antibiotics. I can hardly move around, Charlie... I'm so fucking out of it most of the time, I don't even know what's going on... And the worst part about it all is that I actually need this stuff... You can't even begin to imagine the pain..."

My head shakes sadly, and I reach out to examine the bottles. Oxycodone. Valium. Time-released Morphine. Penicillin. I set down the last bottle, and reach for a long tube of some sort of gel laying down next to them. Prescription-only burn ointment. Ten percent Novocaine solution...

Goddamn... They're fucking him up.

Part of me considers asking him for some meds, but I immediately vote against it. What kind of prick would I be, bumming drugs off a friend who desperately needs them? I'm not that kind of guy anymore... At least, I'm trying VERY hard not to be...

"Shit, man, I feel for ya..." I tell him. "The hard part hasn't even come yet... One day, you're gonna have to stop taking these, you know?"

He gives me a slow nod, and I can hear a soft whimper coming from his direction as he sniffles. "Yeah..." he agrees. "...That's all I really want right now... But the sad thing is, getting clean is the last thing I'm looking forward to..."

He cups his chin in a paw, and I can see him shaking slightly as he closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. I decide that it's time to try my hand at cheering him up. After all, what're friends for? I lift up my guitar case, and set it down on the coffee table. After flipping open the latches and lifting up my guitar, I retrieve the bag of weed from my stash spot.

"Got something that might help you out," I say, holding up the bag of pungent-smelling buds so he can see them. He cracks a genuine smile when his eyes find it, and his paw darts up to snatch it from my claws. I give a short chuckle as I watch him thrust the bag up to his nostrils, and take a deep sniff.

"Oh, thank fucking god..." he mutters, as he opens the small sandwich bag and begins to examine its contents. "I haven't had a joint since me and Oz first moved here... Frank's cop side takes over when it comes to having drugs in his house; I'm lucky he even lets me have the pills... But I'd seriously give anything to smoke some right now. Got any papers?"

"Yeah, check the bottom." I tell him, pointing to the small pack of rolling papers resting at one corner of the bag. He digs them out and immediately goes to work, crumbling one of the sticky buds into smaller chunks on the table in front of him. He rolls the fat joint almost effortlessly, raising the large cone to his muzzle to lick the gum strip as he wraps it shut, and holds it out to take in the results of his efforts. I watch a warm smile form across his muzzle as he inspects the finished product. I give a silent nod of approval; it's a perfect spliff. He always did have great rolling skills. That's a good thing, though; it means his hands are still as usable as ever, missing fur or not. I can't wait til' the day he can pick up his guitar...

He motions towards a small door behind us, near the entrance to the kitchen. "Wanna go out back?"

I smile, and give him a nod. "Hell yeah."

Just then, I hear soft footsteps coming from the kitchen as someone approaches the living room. Cory's eyes go wide, and he quickly crams the joint and the bag of pot into the pocket of the pair of blue jeans he's wearing. I notice the small amount of bud still scattered on the table, and quickly move the pile of pill bottles on top of it. Turning around, I see Tara approaching us, carrying two unopened bottles of microbrewed beer. Oz always springs for the good stuff; I guess his brother isn't much different. She reaches one out to me with a heart-warming smile, and holds the other one towards Cory, who shakes his head, and holds up a paw.

"No thanks, Tara," he says. "I don't drink with my meds."

She gives a slight nod, and pulls the beer away. I take my own drink from her, and use one of my claws to pry off the bottle cap.

"Thanks. I really appreciate it," I tell her. She smiles, and starts to head back to the kitchen. "I'll put this one back, then. I'm gonna go and run a bath. You boys have fun, and send Frank in when he gets back, will ya?"

She gives Cory and me a sly wink. She must have something 'special' something planned for her mate when he gets home... Hopefully they're not too loud when they're going at it...

Cory and I sit frozen until we hear the sound of water running somewhere in the house. He finally breaks the silence with a loud groan, and retrieves the joint from his pocket. The perfect cone has been crushed against his body, but he manages to straighten it out a bit.

"Want me to wheel you out back?" I ask him, getting to my feet. He shakes his head furiously. "Hell no, man. Help me up."

I hesitate for a moment at his response. He wants to WALK outside? Has he even tried walking yet? Is it safe? All these questions dart through my brain as I consider whether or not to honor his request. After some quick thinking, I shrug my shoulders, and say 'fuck it.' It's what he wants, right? If it makes him feel better, I'm happy to support him in anything he wants to do.

He stretches his arm towards me and extends his paw, which I grip tightly in my own as I pull him slowly to his feet. I watch a grimace of pain trace its way across his muzzle as he straightens his shaking knees and attempts a standing position. He lets out a sigh of relief as he straightens up, panting heavily from the physical exertion.

"Are you all right?" I ask.

He nods his head quickly, and takes a small step forward. "Yeah... Yeah, I'll be fine. Let's go."

I make a point of walking beside him as he leads the way to the backyard. I don't need Oz wanting to beat my ass to a bloody pulp because I let his mate fall and break his legs. Cory manages to pick up his pace as we get closer, and we make it over to the thick oak door without much incident. I notice the thin layer of sweat forming around his muzzle as he grips the doorknob, and gives it a twist. He's getting drained pretty fast. I find myself silently hoping that there's a couple chairs outside, where he can sit down and rest after his tiring endeavor. He deserves it; truthfully, I've never seen him so brave.

The door swings open, and a warm, summer breeze caresses our fur as the two of us step outside. The makeshift vest I'm wearing is flapping in the wind; Cory is naked from the waist up. I can smell the minty aroma of the novocaine-infused burn ointment rubbed on his skin as he steps in front of me and stands in the grass. I watch him stick the joint between his teeth, before turning towards me.

"Got a light?"

I nod my head, and start patting my pockets until I find it. The plastic disposable lighter is a change from my usual practice of carrying a refillable Zippo; my normal lighter ran out of flint a couple days ago, and I keep forgetting to buy more. I toss the lighter over to him, and watch as he directs the flame towards the fat tip of the now-crumpled cone.

My friend inhales sharply, holding in the smoke for what seems like an infinite amount of time. When he finally exhales, a very thin stream of vapor trickles its way out through his nostrils. He takes another puff, before offering the burning joint to me.

"Thanks for this, man..." he tells me. "You don't know what it's been like, not being able to do anything but sit in that fucking chair and get knocked out by those pills..."

I take the joint from his claws, and move up next to him. "Actually, I know exactly what it's like... And it never ends well."

He nods his head in agreement as he looks up at the sky. The clouds are thin, wispy, like the feathers of some undiscovered cosmic bird... The bright sunlight colors them pure white, and gives them the appearance of streaking slowly across the great blue horizon with the passing of each moment... It looks perfect. It's like God, if there is one, has placed this view above this house just for the two of us to enjoy... Wow... This is some good shit.

I chuckle at the thought, and take another hit. Sucking in a lungful of air, I offer the joint back to Cory.

"So what's this thing you wanted to talk to me about?" I ask. He seems confused at first.

"What? I don't know man, what do you mean?"

I think back to the conversation we'd had the night before. "On the phone last night, you told me to come by today 'cause you wanted to ask me something. What was it? Were you a little out of it last night?"

He smacks a paw against his forehead, and nods his head slowly. "Ahh, yeah, I remember now... I was gonna ask you some personal questions, but I didn't wanna do it with Oz sitting next to me in our room. I was just curious about something, you know?"

"Well, what is it? You know you can ask me anything, right?"

Cory seems taken aback. He looks nervous about what he wants to say; he's started to unconsciously scratch the fur on the back of his neck. After a minute of awkward silence, he finally shrugs his shoulders, and takes a hit from the joint before speaking.

"You and James have been back together for a little over a month, now..." he says. "You've been engaged for more than four years. I guess I was wondering... When are you guys gonna take the next step?"

"The next step?" I repeat, unsure of what he's asking.

"You know... When are you guys gonna tie the knot? NO pun intended, by the way..."

I chuckle softly, and shake my head. I see where this is going.....

Marriage? I never really thought about it. I mean, I know the whole deal; how it's supposed to happen, what you're supposed to do. The priest, the vows, the rings, and all that... I know I made a promise to James a long time ago that one day, we'd be together for the rest of our lives, but... I guess I never really considered actually going through with it.

"I don't know, man..." I tell him. "I mean, this is actually the first time I've thought about it, and it took you being curious to even bring it into my head..."

"You should do it, then!" he exclaims. I look at his face to see if he's being serious. The bright smile across his muzzle and the shine in his eyes confirms my thoughts. He's serious... Dead serious...

"I mean, you've got all summer!" he continues. "We can't go on tour until the docs clear me for travel. I still can't hold a guitar for too long, so we can't record. You've got nothing to do with all your time, man! Why don't you just go for it?"

He hands the joint over to me, and I consider what he's asking as I take a few puffs. Maybe he's right... James and I should get hitched... I mean, it's been forever since I'd given him that ring; since I'd made my promise... Why not see it through? Why not take that final step? Why not make it official? I mean, there's not much anyone can do to stop us at this point... The gang we pissed off a month back seems to have gone into hiding; the cops are all over the city looking for em'. I've got plenty of cash put away from our last album, so it'd be no problem to get everything we need to have the perfect wedding...

God, why didn't I come up with this? Why haven't I thought about it on my own?! I guess I've been a little preoccupied with my own shit lately... But really, that's no excuse... James loves me, and I love him. We deserve each other... We deserve to have our union officially recognized...

I take another hit from the joint, before slowly nodding my head.

"You know what?" I say, "You're right... Yeah... I'm gonna do it. It might take some talking, but WE'RE gonna do it... I'll ask James tonight, and see what he thinks. If he feels like he's ready to go all the way, Then I'm gonna do everything I can to make it happen."

I wish I had a camera to capture Cory's squeal of pure delight. He gives me a round of slow applause, and reaches out to take the joint. "That's great! That's awesome! Now I just have one more question..."

I shrug my shoulders, and smile. "Sure, man. Ask me anything."

"Can I help you plan the wedding? PLEASE? Come on, Charlie, if you're gonna do this, I wanna help. Please, please, PLEASE let me do this for you..."

I can't stop laughing as he begs. His tail is swaying behind him in the breeze. His paws are locked together. He's got this ear-to-ear grin across his muzzle as he stares up at me with desperation in his eyes. I can see how Oz can never say 'no' to his mate. He just looks so precious like this...

"All right, all right..." I concur. "If James wants to go through with it, you can plan the wedding."

"YES!" Cory exclaims, pumping his fists triumphantly in the air. It's been a while since I've seen him look this happy about anything. It's like his sulking depression has immediately evaporated with those few, promising words. 'He needed this,' I realize, as he starts blabbing on about the kinds of ceremonies that are available for same-sex couples in our state. 'He needs to feel like there's something he can do; that he's more than just a cripple in a wheelchair... And now, I guess he's found his sense of purpose...'

"Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!" he blurts out, throwing his arms around me in a tight bear hug. I gasp for air as he squeezes me, tapping him on the waist with my trapped paw as he refuses to let go.

"I can't breathe, man, I can't breathe!"

He realizes his mistake, and releases his vice-like grip. He's unable to contain his excitement as he finishes off the joint and stomps it out in the moist grass. Cory is bouncing off the walls again, the way he used to, pouring out ideas and suggestions endlessly as he goes on about the details of getting married. I smile and nod my head at everything he talks about. He's going so fast that I can barely keep up... But that doesn't matter right now. We've got plenty of time to make plans. What matters to me is that I've finally got my friend back. Cory's come back to us... And I wonder what Oz is gonna think when he gets home to find his beloved cheetah out and about, yapping on about wedding plans as if his personal tragedy had never occurred... Hell, in the sunlight, it even seems like Cory's fur has started to get some of its color back. His spots seem brighter, somehow...

A month of therapy with James, and the real improvement comes when I tell Cory that he can plan our wedding..... Wow..... Maybe I should've become a counselor, myself.

Oz and Frank showed up not long after we went back inside. The look of panic on Oz's face as he saw Cory walking around the living room was quickly replaced with an expression of relief when Cory told him how much better he was feeling. He went on to inform the two brothers of the upcoming wedding plans, and I gotta say, their reaction was... unexpected. I can't count how many hugs, slaps on the back, or offers of beer and cigars they made me... It was all so unreal...

Eventually, after his wife had gotten tired of him, Frank brought out his laptop, and Cory spent several hours showing me different churches, ballrooms, and other venues where James and I could hold our ceremony. It was so overwhelming, the amount of information he was pouring out to me... After a while, I decided that this would all work more smoothly if we had my mate's input, not to mention his consent. I had to go home and talk to James...

After having several beers with the guys, and making promises to meet up soon to continue the planning, I figured it was about time to get going. I had a lot on my mind, and I could use a couple hours with my mate to work through it all before we started up on our usual "nighttime activities." I called ahead to let him know that I was coming home, and he told me he'd be waiting...

After saying goodbye to Frank and Oz, I grab my guitar case, and start walking towards the front door. Cory follows me, and holds it open while I step outside. I'm still in a daze after everything he's said; it's gonna take some time to process it all... On a whim, I tell him that he can keep the weed. He needs it...

"Hey," he calls out to me, as I walk towards the Chevelle. I turn around to face him.

"Thanks..." he says with a smile. "You're the best friend I've ever had..."

I shake my head, and wave it off. "No problem, man. You finally opened my eyes today... I've been putting off one of the biggest events in my life; I needed someone to wake me the hell up... And so did you."

He nods, and gives me a parting wave. "I know I did... And now I've got something to look forward to... Good luck with James tonight, man."

He closes the door softly, and I watch his shadow play over the curtains in the windows as he makes his way back to the living room. When I can no longer see him, I open the door to the Chevelle, and set my guitar case down on the pasenger seat. It takes a moment for me to insert the key and start the engine; I've got so much on my mind.

How do I explain this to James? What will I say? Is he gonna go for it? Or will he want to wait for a while? I don't know the answers; I can't make any predictions... And I'm getting nervous about James' possible reactions... As the car's engine roars to life and I back out of the driveway, I start thinking about the outcome of the forthcoming conversation... I'm hoping, almost praying, for the best as I slowly drive out of the small suburb, and hop on Harbor City's inner-loop freeway.

PLease, PLEASE, God... If you're out there. Don't let anything go wrong tonight... I NEED this....

---

The sun is settling on the horizon when I turn onto the now-familiar street. I back the Chevelle into its usual spot between the two abandoned buildings around the block from our apartment complex, and pull my guitar case from the seat next to me as I take the key from the ignition and exit the vehicle.

After a minute of stretching and fiddling, I manage to get the canvas tarp over the exterior of the car. We've always gotta do this... Oh well. Sometimes I forget that the car doesn't belong to us; it belongs to James' old drug dealer... But his sentence has recently been extended; something to do with a prison riot upstate. I barely heard anything during the quick phone call when it came a couple weeks ago, but James had filled me in on the gist of it...

My paw wraps around the handle of my guitar case. I lift it from the dusty gravel of the deserted alleyway, and let out a heavy sigh as I make my way towards our apartment... I'm shaking. My heart is pounding. My breathing becomes quick, labored gasps as the gravity of what's about to happen almost blows me over... But I have to remain calm. I have to center myself, to get ready for this... After all, it's been a long time coming. It's now or never; do or die...

I make my way through the trashy, dimly-lit lobby to the elevator. I've finally managed to clear my head and get ready for what I have to do... I press the button to go up, and the doors slide open immediately, with their signature pneumatic hiss and puff of cancerous dust. Stepping inside, I slap the button for the tenth floor, and close my eyes as the doors slide shut. The cables creak and groan loudly as they pull me slowly towards my destination... my home...

The keys fumble in my paws as I try to fit them into the locks on the apartment door. I haven't felt this anxious since I was going through opiate withdrawal. The key ring knocks noisily against one of the three deadbolt locks as I try to find the right one. This is getting ridiculous... I'm about to give up and call James to let me in, when I hear the locks turning from inside. The door squeaks quietly as my mate pulls it open. He holds a finger to his lips before I can speak.

"Shhh. Jake's asleep on the couch." he whispers.

I'm taken aback by this, but I give him a quick nod. I pick up my guitar case and try my best to be silent as I step past my mate, into the living room of our apartment. Sure enough, the small coyote is curled up in the fetal position on our sofa. I can hear him snoring peacefully as he sleeps. James locks the front door, and motions towards our bedroom. I follow him inside, and he shuts the door behind us.

"What's the kid still doing here?" I ask him, finally out of earshot of the sleeping pup.

"His foster parents are some of Harbor City's biggest lawyers," James explains. "They're both working late tonight, so they asked me if I could watch him for a few hours. That was a while ago, so they should be here soon."

"How'd he end up sleeping on the couch?" I continue.

"He was tweaking pretty hard when he came in this afternoon." James replies. "He told me he'd been awake for the past three days. After our session, he crashed out immediately. He just hit the cushions, and went out like a light. I couldn't bring myself to wake him up."

"Damn..." I mutter, shaking my head. I set my guitar case on the floor next to the bedroom door, and make my way over to our bed. "That kid's got some serious problems."

James nods his head in agreement. As he approaches me, he slips off the pinstripe coat he's wearing, and seats himself at the edge of our bed. "He's been through seven foster homes, Charlie..." he tells me. "And every time a family sends him back, he gets worse and worse... He told me that the next time someone sent him back to that orphanage, he was gonna run away. He's going through so much at such a young age... More than either of us ever had to at that point...."

I nod my head in agreement. I'm about to voice my reply, when we hear the doorbell ring. "That'll be his parents." James says, rising from the bed to answer the door. I get up to follow him.

Stepping back into the living room, I see Jake sitting up on the couch, rubbing his eyes and stifling a loud yawn. He looks so worn out...

"You alright, kid?" I ask him. He gives me a weary nod in reply.

"I'll be fine... Just need some sleep."

James unlocks the front door again, and tugs it open. We're greeted with the stern faces of two well-dressed brown-furred coyotes. The couple is clad in matching business suits; the male carrying a thick, brown briefcase clutched in one paw. The female looks angry for some reason... I'm hoping she doesn't take it out on Jake...

"Mr. and Mrs. Fuller. It's nice to see you again..." James greets them, stepping aside to allow them entry. Mr. Fuller gives him a curt nod, before striding over to Jake, and inspecting his foster son's condition. "He didn't give you any trouble, did he?" he asks, turning around to face my mate.

James shakes his head. "Not at all, sir. He's been sleeping for most of the day. If I may say, however, I believe he's got some serious issues which need to be addressed in our future sessions."

"What kind of issues?" The female chimes in. James shakes his head once more. "I'm sorry ma'am, but I promised Jake I'd wait until he was ready to discuss those matters with you... It's his decision to make, I'm afraid."

She nods in acceptance. "I can understand that..." She says flatly.

"Did you convince him to get off the drugs?" Mr. Fuller continues. "Did he say he'd quit shooting up?"

Again, James shakes his head. "That's not something that can be dealt with in one session, Mr. Fuller. Like I said, we've been working on addressing the issues which have led to his drug abuse. Once we isolate the source of his addiction, we can get to work on helping him overcome--"

"--That's quite enough, Dr. Clayton." The coyote interrupts. "I hired you because I heard you were the best in the city. If you can't get my son to stop using, I'll have to find someone else who CAN. The fee for this session has already been paid in full; we'll be leaving now. Get up, Jake..."

The young pup mumbles something about being tired under his breath, and refuses to budge. Mr. Fuller, obviously fed up with his son's current state, grabs him by the arm, and jerks him to his feet.

"Hey!" I shout. Who the fuck does this guy think he is?! "Take it easy on the kid!"

I'm rewarded with a scoff as Jake gets dragged towards the front door. He turns around to say goodbye as his father pulls him into the hallway. "Thanks for trying, guys!" he yells. "Maybe we'll meet up again!"

I stand paralyzed, my paws clenching into tight fists at my side as I watch his mother close the door behind them. God, what a buzzkill...... I hate parents who can't be patient with their kids... It drives me nuts... Hell, it's bringing back memories of my dad, which is the last thing I need on my mind right now...

"Well, that was fucked up..." James remarks, as he locks the door. I wholeheartedly agree.

"Yeah... Those so-called 'parents' were real pricks..."

And now, I'm getting that feeling again... Something tells me that we haven't seen the last of that kid.

"Like I said, the kid's got a lot of issues," My mate repeats, making his way over to me and wrapping his arms around my neck. He plants a kiss on my cheek, and I smile. He knows just how to brighten my moods.....

"What was it you wanted to talk about" he asks me. "When you called me earlier, you mentioned something we had to do?"

Moment of truth.......

"Yeah..." I begin, clasping my paws around his waist, and pulling him closer. "For the longest time, I never thought about it... But today, I finally opened my eyes... Cory helped me see what I needed to do, and now I've gotta go for it.... But the problem is, I don't know how to say it..."

"Say what, babe?" James asks. "You know me; if there's something you've gotta get off your chest, the best thing to do is to go right ahead and let it out."

I stare at the ceiling for a moment, and let out a repressed sigh. Turning my head back down to stare at James, I look deep into his eyes as my next words work their way past my lips.

"....It's been years since I proposed... I guess I haven't really thought it through, but I figured that now's as good a time as any, so... Do you wanna get married?"

A loud yelp forces its way up my throat as James pounces on me. He falls on top of me on the floor, and thrusts his lips against my own. I can hear him laughing gleefully as he strokes the fur around my neck, and kisses me endlessly. I close my eyes, and allow my paws to explore his body as he works his tongue around in my mouth. Finally, he pulls away, and we stop to catch our breath.

"Yeah...." he pants. "Let's do it... Let's get married!"

I feel his hands gripping the corners of my vest, and tugging it away as I go to work on the buttons on his shirt. The kissing becomes more fierce as the pants come off, followed by the undergarments as we furiously go to work on each others' bodies. I can feel my cock already poking out of its sheath as he breaks his kiss and starts to work his way down.

"You know, I didn't expect you to react like THIS..." I say, a growl escaping my muzzle as he begins to stroke me to full length.

"Are you sure you wanna--"

He pulls himself back up to my chest, and clamps a hand around my muzzle.

"Shut the hell up, and enjoy the moment!"

And so I do... For a while.

After all, there are some things you just can't say 'no' to...

---

That's Chapter 14, guys, I hope you all enjoyed it! Sorry for the wait, I've had a lot going on while getting ready for the fall semester to start. That being said, I have big plans for Charlie and James. This story is going to end at some point, and another, fresh story shall begin. And yes, I mean a sequel. I DO get bored around here, ya know? Anyway, I look forward to hearing what you all think! Let me know if I missed anything or if anything seems confusing. Otherwise, I'd just love to hear your opinions! :)

--Ken