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This story has adult content. If it is illegal for you to be viewing this, then please don't. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy. The story and characters belong to me, Renaux. If you want to use them, just ask permission, and I'm sure we can work something out!

"Welcome to Stop and Shop, Reverend Fauce," the cashier cheerfully said, before she started moving the essential goods I bought across the register. The cashier, Theresa, was a kind, old husky, worn, but not out. It was a year ago she lost her husband to Alzheimer's. Before the death, I hardly knew her, but that slowly changed over the course of the year. I was there for her as a courtesy of the congregation. That wasn't to say I didn't like my job, much to the contrary, but it was that assignment that put me into her life. Her fur was graying, her eyes drooping, but her smile never faltered. This strength was false, though. She was old and most likely to follow her husband soon. I never knew my best friend would become someone old enough to be my grandmother, but life is full of surprises. Sadly, we are at completely different points in our lives.

My name is Raymond Fauce. I am a red fox. I haven't kept in the best of shape lately, with the church taking up more and more of my time, effort, and passion. I'm only 5"7', but weigh about 175. Sadly, the extra congregated around my midsection. My fur is the shade of a cool flame, almost orange in color, with a thin band of white fur on my ankles, tail, and wrists before they turn black going to the extremities. Some say I have piercing yellow eyes that could coax a confession out of anyone. While I haven't tried to be intimidating, a lot of people agree. Luckily, I hadn't developed a double chin or man-boobs, as they're called, but if I followed this path for long, I'd probably see an early grave from heart disease. My hair was tightly cropped around my head and between my ears, as it was shameful to hide one's head with long hair or a hat.

I'm not a head of a congregation, but I do have a doctorate in Theology, with a focus on youth ministry. I feel that I could steer the young ones from drugs, sex, and other destructive behaviors. Being only 30, I still knew what those temptations are like and it was my job to keep Christ's flock pure, at all costs! Or at least I thought I still knew of the temptations of the children, these days.

"Good morning Tess," I replied cheerfully. "I'm glad to see you have found a way to pass the time. I didn't expect to see you here." Because of the impending snow storm that Friday, I only bought the essentials, so the conversation would have to be quick. The incessant beeping of the scanners as they read the bar codes on the items rang in the background. The shelves were quickly emptying of bread and milk, and I knew by nightfall these items would likely be sold out. It's been like that as long as I can remember. Just the word 'snowstorm' was enough to cause widespread panic; people remembering back to a particularly severe storm that happened while I was still too young to remember. I naturally followed suit so I would not be without.

"It keeps these idle hands busy," she giggled. "Not all old ladies knit and sew, there."

I chuckled lightly, "I never implied you would knit and sew, Tess."

"Pish-posh, I knew the old jokes going around these days. But you're a saint, all the more, so I forgive you." I flattened my ears in mock regret before taking out some cash to pay for my groceries. Following that, I grabbed my bags and gave a slight nod before yipping out a small goodbye and I was on my way. I had to be home before long to make sure I was prepared for youth night at the church. Youth night occurred every Wednesday.

I lived in a suburban dream. I had a one story ranch home, with a neatly groomed front lawn. My neighbors were within shouting distance of my open windows. It was populated enough that people stopped caring what the Jones' and the McCoys' did, and tried to worry about their own troubles. But it was also sparse in population enough so that, chances are, an unlocked door wouldn't doom the residents inside. I could sleep at night without worrying about bright lights and loud noise keeping me awake.

The church was located in the city, near to where I lived, in a bad neighborhood. Usually most criminals ignored those dressed in black with a white collar, to retain some resemblance of morality. Still, it still wasn't a neighborhood to walk down lightly. The neighborhoods that needed God the most, in my eyes, were the ones with the highest crime. The youth is where you started. I had hopes the youth I fostered would grow into God fearing, loving people.

Some went to the church to find a warm place to stay and a hot meal for the night. Others used it to escape a gang war that they were involved in. Claiming sanctuary didn't guarantee anything, and the church has seen its fair share of violence. Yet the Reverend Tykes, a bear who led the adult flock at the congregation, refused to close the doors. Being hurt in service to God, and yet save one soul from damnation seemed a fair trade. I disagreed. The doors should be closed on some of the most notorious criminals to prevent this violence in God's sacred house. But I had little say in the matter.

The youth activities on youth night at the church consisted of ping-pong, foosball, and pool. Others just used the time to relax or play cards. Betting on the games was forbidden in God's house. During this time, I would move from group to group to just hear the gossip, and partake. I would also meet one-on-one with any teenager, or young adult, that needed guidance, or just an ear to listen. Some people were uncomfortable with my forward and confident demeanor, perhaps reminding them of a gang leader, but others saw it as irritating, being of a dominant persuasion themselves.

The church used its Church School rooms, which are separate from the worship hall, as the congregating place for the youth. The largest one in particular. It was a large room with an indoor window into the kitchen. On one side of the room, long tables were set up with folding chairs to sit in a banquet style way, and the other side was open floor with the games lining two walls, and the piano on the third. I knew little about the piano, so the thing usually collected dust. That was until a few years ago when Skai started coming to the youth meetings.

The shy, yet beautifully musical, kangaroo, Skai, was an outcast in every sense of the word. He was a young 20 year old McDonald's employee. He never rose to manager for lack of ambition and barely had enough to eat it seemed. My heart went out to him and I made it a point to always spend as much time during the open session as I could with Skai. Skai's mother was a druggie, and his father was behind bars for murder. Skai himself never touched drugs nor got into fights he could avoid. The 120 pound 'roo couldn't hold his own in a fight anyway. He was cute enough to garner attention of the opposite sex, but most saw him as a little brother and not a mate. He never complained. Sometimes the most righteous are companion less. I know that feeling dearly.

"How has work been treating you?" I placed my arm around Skai's shoulders, as I sat beside him on the long piano stool. The 'roo visibly tensed for a moment and then relaxed, making room for me to sit beside him. He was a bit jumpy in any environment, but I wanted him to feel at home and comfortable with God. He had to realize the purest of God's flock would look after him.

"My manger got fired for dealing coke at work," Skai said, sullenly. "I am always working the grease traps, and never getting a raise. The head manager hates me, and I only think it's because I'm 'too nice' to the customers. Says it makes the other workers look bad. While the job requires it, it seems people resent it."

"There is never anything wrong with being too nice, and you know it. If you manager can't appreciate your charm, you should look elsewhere for work."

"No other place will hire me. I dropped out of high school, and I have no skills."

I sighed to myself. Skai dropped out to take care of his mother. She would overdose when he was at school, sometimes, and he felt he needed to be there. He would work the overnight shift when she was passed out to avoid this happening while he was at work. Skai cared too much about his mother to see her go, even if she was a waste of breath. 90% of the roo's money went to his mother's bills and loan sharks. The other 10% went to the prison to try and keep his father from being in debt to other prisoners, and turned out. It was a sad existence. Yet, I was proud of him for his want of trying. He didn't give up on his parents one bit. I wasn't nearly as accepting, but I couldn't change his mind. He just didn't think of himself. He considered his mother's, his father's, and mostly my feelings with everything he did.

"You should continue to hope. We're never completely alone, and it's never hopeless," I stated. I truly believed that. "Have you been on the right track? Have you been a good role model for those around you? A good Christian?"

"Do you think God punishes those who aren't?" Skai asked. "My mom and dad seem to be punished, but their punishment affects and punishes me. I'm blameless."

"No one is blameless, sadly. No one is perfect. Sometimes the punishment may seem disproportionate to the crime. But I doubt God directly punishes people nowadays on Earth. I think evil just happens because people do evil. If you inject dye into water, the water will change color to the farthest reaches. The more dye, the more color. I think bad actions have that effect on the world. Even if you think you're getting away with it, the evil you release does its part to dye the world its own color."

"So I am doing something to deserve this? I'm putting my share of evil into the world?"

"Only God can say for sure. Unless there is something specific you're referring to?" I raised an eyebrow to Skai. Skai looked down and opened his muzzle like he was going to say something, and then folded his ears and shook his head. "Just remember, I am here to help you," I continued. "Sometimes people don't do a lot of bad, and have a lot of bad done to them. It takes a lot to shield just one person from the evil of the world." I stood and looked down at Skai. He was hiding something, something that shamed him, but I could not force him to say. It would hurt me too much to guilt him into telling me directly. He was the one righteous boy and gave me hope for the rest. I didn't want to harm that innocence. I needed to help him overcome his terrors, though. I didn't think there was anything he could say that would bother me. On that sour note, I left the kangaroo to continue my rounds. His paws lifted to the piano and filled the chatty room with his music once more.

Following the open gaming and socializing time at the youth center, was a light snack. That is when I usually stood at a podium on the side of the room with the games, while the youth sat at the banquet table, and gave a light sermon for the youth to digest along with their food. It usually dealt with respecting their parents, avoiding drugs, and banishing sex. I figured I should preach to the trials the youth faced; instead of giving them a third paw account of Noah's Ark; they can get that on Sunday. I loved the bible, but as a youth minister, I had to make sure my messages held some meaning to the youth. Today was no exception. I talked about the evils of drugs as a sort of tribute to Skai's plight, and all the millions of ways they can ruin your life.

I am overly dramatic when I get on a roll about sin. I like to make it seem like the end of the world when someone sins, and the only redemption is honest pleading with the Lord for forgiveness, as well as pleading with the person you wronged. Until then you were black with sin, and the wages of that sin is everlasting death. I'm sure it leads some people to think twice for some of their crimes, because no one wants eternal damnation. I had to teach people to harbor an intense hatred of wrongdoing.

Some of the people usually left the sermons and went right back to their sinful ways, and I knew this. Only those with a guilty conscience will be affected by my words. A guilty conscience is insanely difficult to learn how to live with. Sometimes I wish I could give a home to some of the harder cases with pure hearts, like Skai, but I wasn't paid enough to afford to support more then myself. People didn't go into this job to make money; they did it because of their passion, not like the fake televangelists on TV who were, in fact, rich. It didn't seem that Skai had many friends to help him out with things, either. Not that I could see, anyway.

Watching Skai leave that night, head drooped, ears folded back, was heart wrenching. There were times I offered to call social services on his mother, but he never wished that. I could tell he loved his mother regardless of how much he hated what she did. In a way, unconditional love is another way humans can show a likeness to God. Everyone is capable of it, from the abused girlfriend, to the abused child. I knew he would be in my office that Sunday, to talk about his current issues. He likes having an ear listen to him, and some encouraging support. He told me that I am one of the only people who listened. I don't like persuading people into admitting their sins, but everyone needs to admit their vices exist before addressing them. The act of persuasion was a necessary evil. Skai was no exception. Sunday would come all too soon.

Most of the confessions I receive are for little things. It was rare that a teenager actually admitted having pre-marital relations to me, yet I knew that was the most often committed sin among the youth nowadays. Others would joke about how I was just like the Catholic Priests in the church scandal fishing for my 'jollies', if I brought it up. Catholic priests and Protestant ministers are not alike. Such joking was mean spirited, and it was usually uttered after I would make a comment on sex. People can admit they cheated on a test; they beat up some nerd who was just minding his own business, or mouthed off to their parents. I guess people are most ashamed about sexual sin. This country is squeamish around sex, but the bible says it is a grave sin because it is a sin against your own body. Either that or people are desensitized.

Friday, there was a hefty snow storm outside, as promised. I used the time to get caught up on my bible studies, being stuck indoors. I had a little compulsion to keep the house neat and orderly. My books were alphabetized by authors' last name in my book cases, and I usually got a new book case for each genre of book I owned and decided to keep. My religious book case, or should I say cases, were the largest, and I kept them close to my bed. The ranch was a small home, and looked a lot more imposing with the tall book cases along a majority of the walls. I rarely left home, and most often just entertained myself with my legions of books. I never had any guests since I moved in 2 years prior, so I didn't know what people thought of my abode.

Luckily, the plows did clear the roads before Sunday, and I was back at church for the usual Sunday service. As predicted, the kangaroo stopped by after service, and I quickly closed the door for privacy. He would always talk about the previous sermon first, as an ice-breaker. I don't know if he was really interested, or being polite, but either way, it was a good thing. If he was interested, it showed he wanted to digest God's word. If he was being polite, it showed he was more considerate and mature then most of his peers. I wasn't going to discourage this because it can lead to some personal discoveries.

My office at work was not a carbon copy of my home. I thought of the office as a necessary evil in the church. My place was in the pews with parishioners, and not stuck behind a sound proof, oak door. I kept some of the books I was currently reading, along with the normal office style supplies, in my desk. The rest of the room had religious posters and bible verses on wooden carved decorations on the walls. There were two chairs in the room, mine and the one used for guests. Both were leather chairs with 5 wheels in a star on the bottom. The plush carpet was worn down from years of use, probably from my predecessor. I used the office for personal discussions, and since I had few of them, I rarely was in the office.

"Do you want anything to drink?" I politely asked, before I sat down. Once he shook his head I sat in my office chair, and watched the 'roo across the desk. He seemed a bit more fidgety then usual today, but teasing the reasons out of him would have to wait for a couple minutes, at least. Our sermon that day had been on God's Law in general. I'm sure today's questioning would center on that.

"I have a question," Skai started. "Most Christians nowadays believe that sin is equal. However, Jesus himself says there is a more important commandment. Is that a bit of a contradiction?" With that we got into talking about the sermon of the day. I knew this line of questioning was leading somewhere, and it was easy to steer the conversation towards the ten 'big' laws of God and the many hidden laws. I couldn't stress enough that they are all his laws, no matter how many there are. Hearing this, the kid visibly melted in front of me. His head slumped a few inches down.

"What's wrong?" I asked, concerned. "Are you involved in one of the hidden sins?" I knew they were not really 'hidden', but not being in the Ten Commandments those sins always received less attention. I waited for a long time, just to see a slight nod of his head. My mind went reeling. I had to know what this innocent kid was doing, but there were a hundred things I could ask. I wasn't going waste both of our times by trying to guess what he had done. After a full 5 minutes he took a deep breath.

"I was thinking about how you said everyone puts their share of evil into the world, and that causes bad things to happen to people. Are people inherently evil?"

"That's a loaded question," I replied. "I'm sure you already know the answer I'll give."

"But some things don't feel wrong and some people seem nice. Following the Buddhist teachings for one, seems like it would bring peace and harmony to the world. It wouldn't feel evil to be that way."

"Sin is tempting," I replied. "People wouldn't do it otherwise. We don't follow Buddhist teachings because we believe that they are not correct, and we believe that those who don't know Christ will perish. God wants to be the sole target of our worship. That is why we can't follow Buddha. I have a sneaking suspicion that Buddhism is not what you're talking about, though."

"You're right," he sighed and looked down. "As always." He paused for a few more moments. It was then the bombshell dropped. "I don't think I like females at all."

"Oh, Skai," I chuckled. "You're young, yet. I'm sure you'll find a good girl someday. It's not a sin to not like girls. Some of the most righteous people were undisturbed by the sin of sexual temptation."

"But, I'm not," he replied. "I'm not righteous and I'm not above temptation." I saw his eyes tearing up. "You're like a father to me, so I felt I had to tell you. I'm still a virgin, but when I get," he paused and seemed to be looking for the right word, "Frisky, I am thinking of guys. One guy in particular."

"Stop right there," I said sternly. I took a deep breath and started to collect my thoughts. The strict disciplinarian in me rose to the surface. I could feel my tail go rigid behind me and the fur bristle outwards. "Don't talk this outrageous prattle. Sin of the mind is still sin, and I can help you overcome it. I don't care who you're thinking about in this perverse way. Tell me how long you've had these feelings."

He looked hurt. While I didn't like being a disciplinarian for him, what he was saying was ludicrous. Why couldn't it just have been spitting in some customer's food that had bad mouthed him? My mind couldn't fathom the ridiculousness of it all. His upper lip quivered when he responded.

"F-f-five years," he stuttered. His response hit me like a ton of bricks. This was not just a passing fancy.

I clenched my paws together and stood abruptly. I wanted to knock him upside the head, maybe knock some sense into him. Striking the poor kid wouldn't help the matter any, though. My breath was coming in shorter gasps, and I felt my face flush with adrenaline. There was no way he could continue this, and stay in my graces. He was a tail raiser! He was the type who would defile his gift of God, his body, with men in dark alleys and hellish bathhouses.

"You have to stop," I said through clenched teeth. "I know society is more accepting nowadays of this evil, but you came to God for advice and he says in the Bible that you should stop. Do you believe it is wrong? Do you think that what you are doing is against God?" By the end of this sentence I was almost bearing my teeth.

"Please, Reverend Fauce," he pleaded. "You're scaring me."

"Answer me, child," I angrily demanded. I was growing increasingly impatient. My collar was hot and sweaty. I knew rage wasn't the only emotion, but it was the strongest. It was also the most comforting to show. I was also thinking rapidly, like a cornered, rabid dog. He stood shakily and I quickly skirted the desk and pushed him back in the seat. "I'm doing this because I care, child." He broke into tears and his head fell into his lap as he cried. I still held him firmly. It was the Holy Spirit making the boy realize that these thoughts are wrong. These were guilt tears. Continuing in this sin, he knows his spirit will forever be separate from God.

"It doesn't feel bad. Does God hate me?"

"God never hates you. He loves you. He just hates this piece of you. If you want to fully experience His love, you must destroy this piece." He slumped over and sniffled a bit. I took my paws off of him and stood back. "Being a Christian in this day and age is difficult, because people are becoming more secular. Don't let this fool you into what is right. I hope you'll be able to tell me you were wrong at youth group this week. If not we have little to talk about. I can't condone this, nor can I pretend it doesn't exist. Bless you, Skai." I responded with my typical closing. This was my way of telling him to leave, and that the conversation was over. Usually it was said after an engaging discussion where we both left fulfilled and happy. This time he was leaving broken. There is no sugar coat to telling someone they're doing something evil. This was now between him and God. Coming to me was a start, and I hope I was helpful in dispelling all myths. If not, I might have to be drastic.

When I was his age, my big vice was alcohol. Even though I was studying theology, it didn't prevent me from drinking to excess whenever things got difficult. It was some tough love from the campus minister that set me straight in my senior year of my Bachelor's program. He would actually make my life more miserable and cut me away from my crutch, liquor. I learned very quickly how to deal with pain without the alcohol. He didn't beat me, but his verbal assaults reminded me of an army officer. I was broken of the alcohol habit quickly, and realized the stupidity of it all. Sadly, he passed away of natural causes last year at 85 years old. I was stronger, though, now. I wasn't going to let his death put me back on the bottle.

That Wednesday night, I was anxious. I wanted to know if Skai was able to face his demons or needed more time. As people entered in the building, I grew more and more nervous. Skai usually was one of the first in the building, but it was already time to begin and he was not there. Alas, though, the show must go on. Shame can sometimes cloud someone's judgment and keep them away from church activities. I know if I drank on Saturday, the chapel was the last place I wanted to go on campus on Sunday. I had devoted this week's sermon to Skai's dilemma to try to nip the problem in the bud with the rest of his peers. What shocked me was that I didn't think to do a sermon on this issue before. I had thought it to be an isolated movement with a few fanatical followers, like a cult. Apparently, I thought wrong if they could corrupt poor Skai.

A lot of confused faces looked at me during the sermon. For most of these youth, I was their source of God's word and this must be the first they are hearing of this sin. Some could not read, and others didn't want to. Some were just made to come by their parents. It was shocking the number of people actually looked scared or disgusted at what I said. About 5% of the youth in the room looked back at me like they thought I was going to smite them down. Since when has there been so many people involved in this secular movement? The sight was baffling. I'm sure my resolve was shaken, and I'm sure people noticed. Why did God let this happen? First, they got marriage in some places, now they wanted acceptance in God's house? Shameful!

I spent the time after the sermon asking around after Skai, but none of the other kids were his friends, so I got no information. I retired to my office to grab my things to get ready to leave when the minister of the congregation, my boss, walked in.

"Reverend Tykes," I said, startled. This was a surprise in that he rarely visited me about anything. I was insulted by his standoffish attitude in dealing with his flock, but being my boss there was little I could do. I tried to mold the youth to eventually join his flock, and that is what I was good at. Tykes felt horrible about telling people that they sinned or did wrong and instead would talk in generalities. It is wrong to lie; instead of you were wrong to lie. A lot of people liked that about him, but it externalized the problem for people, I thought. Most parents loved me, and the results I achieved with their troubled children, so I felt vindicated. "Sit, please," I pulled out a chair. "Can I get you anything?" The Reverend Tykes is an imposing grizzly bear. He had the gentlest voice in normal conversation, and a booming growl when preaching. His fur was always neat and trimmed and a light shade of brown. It was graying in a few places due to his being 65 years old. The look on his face, though, was not happy or cordial.

"No. All I came for was an explanation." He tossed a piece of paper, most likely photocopied, on the table. I started to read it aloud.

_"Dear Reverend Fauce,

Thank you for your talk on Sunday. It really helped put things in perspective. My mother is a druggie, and my father will never be out of prison. I thought I could count on your love and support to get me through. It seems now, that I cannot. Don't you think I tried to stop? Don't you think that every second of every day in my life was full of regret? You made it clear I have no place in your life now unless I change. You pushed me away. You were my one rock. Life is just not the same anymore. We try, and we try again, but there are those of us who can never be righteous, privileged, or sometimes even safe. I guess shelter, and cooked food, and a bed to sleep in are not enough for life. For life one needs love. There is no unconditional love without acceptance.

Still love you unconditionally as a father,

Skai"_

I blinked as I looked at the paper. My mind was trying to think of what this could mean. Was Skai leaving the church for good? That would be unbearable. I couldn't live with the fact that my actions drove someone to turn their back on God. Did Skai just hate me? I put the paper down and looked at the Reverend. I'm sure he could see the confusion on my face.

"I need to know what Skai is talking about in this letter," he said to me. "What did you do to him for him to write this?"

I sighed and put my elbows on the desk to support my chin. It was then, that the absurdity of what Skai had told me came rushing back. I growled before beginning my explanation, "He's a fucking tail raiser! I simply tried to explain to him the error of his ways."

"I know your style Ray. Don't sugar coat this. You're a good source of God's Word, but you are one to use salt on wounds, not honey. Tell me exactly what happened."

I complied and related everything from my point of view of what happened. I included everything, including pushing him down in the chair. Something was up, and I knew telling the truth would be easier in the long run.

"You asshole," the bear growled. "So your love for you fellow man is conditional?"

"I don't fraternize with the enemy, sir, even if I have to love them by God's word," I almost spat out.

"The enemy!?" He bared his teeth to me. This was not going well. His voice was rising above the gentle speech into the loud booming tones he used in church. I held my ground, though. His intimidation would not make me back down.

"Yes. Sinners with no remorse, or repentance, for those sins they cannot escape; repentance and remorse for those they can. Those are the ones who know guilt and remorse, but choose not to apply it to their greatest vice. Sometimes they even justify it!" Justification of evil is repulsive.

"Do you even know your greatest vice, fox!?" the bear shouted. It was an insult to call someone by their species name, unless used as a pet name. "This notion you have of superiority because some quack minister got you to change your ways from your other greatest vice, alcohol, is flawed. You think that because you could beat it, anyone else should be able to beat their vices. Not everyone is as strong willed as you. Not everyone can benefit from your style of tough love. More to the point though, I think that you're afraid of those you hate so much."

"Afraid, sir?" I kept up semblance of respect so I could calm the bear down. A 300 pound linebacker built bear is not someone you wanted pissed off at you, even if they were over twice your age.

"You push away sinners, with the guise of helping them, because you're afraid of sin. It was so easy to become addicted to alcohol, wasn't it? Other sins are just as tempting and you know it."

"Yes, sir." My ears drooped along with my brow. I did remember how easy it was to get addicted to the cloudy feeling of being buzzed. Life seemed to be brighter once the mind is removed from it. Tykes had the experience of age, and I'm sure he's dealt with many types of people. I respected the wisdom, even if I did not respect the bear.

He folded his arms. "Enough of this. I feel more hatred from you than I ever did from a serial killer. Now, that hatred has murdered an innocent kid."

"Murdered!" I shouted. "What are you talking about? That's a little extreme!" I jumped to my feet, pushing back the chair, my eyes demanding an explanation form the bear.

"Skai is dead," the bear said flatly. "This," he pointed to the note on the table, "was one of three suicide notes. All three addressed your reaction to him being a homosexual as his main reason for doing it. It happened right after Sunday service."

No, it's not true! It can't be true. My eyes closed and I fell back in my seat. My tail-tip touched the floor and hung limply behind me. "I hope you're happy, you stupid fox. Skai found his mother's gun. I'm sure you can imagine the scene, now. Consider yourself fired, and tell the nice cops what you told me on your way out. You're just lucky it's not a crime for your hateful behavior cause a suicide. If you change your ways, I am not above forgiveness, or even giving you your job back. Understand?"

"I can change, I need this job!" I pleaded. My paws reached out to him in a begging fashion. I almost went to clutch his shirt, but steeled myself away from that for fear of what he would do.

"I'm not going to fall for that. Show me that you genuinely changed, and maybe I'll listen. Homosexuals are not the largest bane for the church, fox. Intolerance and anger are. I'll accept the most flamboyant homosexual if it means I can share with them God's love. Don't use God as a justification for your own prejudices anymore, either. He doesn't like that." After saying that, the bruin turned abruptly and left the room. The slamming of the door and the screech of the hinges had a sense of finality to them. I was done for.

I slumped down in my office chair and picked up the note. A heavy weight that was my tail pulled on my spine. The note had a different ring to it now that I knew Skai was dead. I regretted my first reaction being to ask for my job back, and to not grieve over Skai. I wondered briefly who the other two notes went to, but in the end it mattered little. I was jobless, and without a church. I couldn't go back with them knowing what I did.

I contemplated for a little while what to do, and then I realized I needed help. This was new territory for me and I had no idea how to proceed. I opened my top drawer and pulled out a matchbook. Redroof was printed in red italic letters on the matchbook. It was the local watering hole, and to drive up business they sometimes left us some matchbooks. Free matchbooks allowed us to light the candles in the sermon hall for free. The bartender and owner was a member of the congregation, and a prominent benefactor of the church. I chuckled to myself. The fact that a bar was advertising and funding in my church illustrated the fact that this congregation was weak and straying from God.

My chuckle got caught in my throat and I choked back a sob. My muzzle hit the desk hard, as I fought to hold back the tears. It was a losing battle. I wouldn't say I cried puddles onto the desk, but the tears were there, and they did wet the fur under my eyes. Is hatred of sin, a sin? Was Skai, the heathen, more righteous than I? My anguished muzzle turned to the wooden cross on top of my desk and I pleaded with the inanimate object for answers. God doesn't work like that in this day and age, though. He left the bible, his servants, and life itself to teach us and help us grow. I wasn't going to find any answers from the cross.

It took me a little over an hour, but I had my office packed into boxes and the boxes in my car. I also left my statement with the cops. Their disapproving glares were like spears. They hurt a lot. At one point one of the cops growled at me. I could tell they wanted to charge me with a crime, but legally, I had done none. After the cops left, I pulled the matchbook from my pocket and sighed. I wanted to smile and laugh again and a light buzz might make that possible. No, my mind raged. You can't go back to this life. You killed that life long ago. Another voice in my head told me to relax. Look at where this new life has gotten you: jobless and, within a few months, homeless. I was so confused, but the memory of being pleasantly buzzed came back to me. When pleasantly buzzed nothing mattered much, and the world was a wonderful place. If God was going to turn his back on me, and toss me out of his church, then I could afford this one luxury in my hour of need. I know there was no excuse for sin, but as long as I didn't get drunk, it shouldn't be sin. I felt guilty for trying to circumvent guilt. There was no getting around it.

The Redroof was not excessively crowded on that Wednesday night. During the winter, most people wanted to stay inside with their family and friends. The bar itself was a home away from home in this unforgiving season, to those who lacked friends or family or had enough bad things in their life to warrant drowning them in liquor. My home held no attraction, because the only company I had in it was my bible, and God. And it was that shame that kept me from turning to the bible or God, right now. I took a seat at the bar and the bartender widened his eyes in recognition. The others in the bar didn't bat an eyelid. I dismissed any attempts at conversation and started my descent into intoxication, with hopes I could short circuit it when I started to feel lighter. The tender, despite knowing my occupation, wasn't about to turn away my money, and my cries for help.

There were many small, round tables with wooden chairs around them. Some families actually came here with their children for the 'lounge' style atmosphere. In the end, the bar saw the most people and got the most attention. Friday it would be hopping with young adults trying to party after a hard week of University classes. I shuddered thinking about the debauchery that would occur then. The lights were excessively dim, and I swore some of the species that couldn't see well in the night would be hard pressed not to bump into everything in the bar. The news station was playing on the small TV above the many liquor bottles behind the bar. Some tough looking leather folks played with the pay-by-game billiard tables along one wall. The establishment had some lure for food and games, but the liquor was why I was there. The atmosphere fit nicely.

On my third shot of rum in as many minutes, the lion to my left gave a short cough. It was the type of cough one would use to garner someone's attention. It worked.

"Couldn't help but notice you're hitting this place harder than a ton of bricks," the lion stated calmly. I hate to use the stereotype but he was built like an ex-con. There was no doubt of his strength. I was hard pressed to find any softness to his features and his broad muzzle was grinning showing fangs. When he brought his shot glass to his muzzle, his muscles rippled underneath his skin, and yet he wasn't more than a couple inches taller than me. I saw his throat work the amber liquor into his stomach and he slammed the glass on the counter. His muzzle then splayed in a disgusted look, whisky face, before he fully turned towards me. He wore a short sleeve shirt, but I noticed an old, worn out, long, black coat hung over his seat. His jeans were Swiss cheese and his broad hind paws were covered in muddy sneakers. I wondered how he survived in the sub-zero temperatures outside.

"Really?" I asked. "You just look a couple ahead of me. You hitting hard too?"

The lion sighed before looking down. "Yea. Have to. Just had to swallow a load of bad news. You?"

"Pretty much the same. I don't want to go home, because all one can do at home is wallow in guilt."

"Ah, so whatever happened was your fault? That blows."

"I don't see it that way. But something I did seemed to hurt someone I care about more than I thought." I downed a fourth shot and was starting to loosen up a lot. I made a mental note to slow down a little as of now. The conversation was making the world a tad brighter, and to lose it in a drunken haze seemed like a waste.

"It's in the past, buddy. You said that at home you would wallow in guilt." He smirked as he downed another shot. After he finished he shook his muzzle and belted out, "Wow! God damn that's strong." I winced at his outburst of the Lord's name and hissed a breath in. He composed himself before continuing the thought that he interrupted by a belt of whatever it was he was drinking. "That means you feel pretty responsible for what happened. Guilt can't touch us if we don't feel responsible."

"I wouldn't say that I feel responsible," I replied. "I think something I said inadvertently drove someone to hurt themselves. While I feel bad, I don't think responsible is the right word."

"Man," the lion moved his stool closer to mine. "If you say inadvertently then you must have thought what you said wasn't very bad, and the other guy just took it the wrong way. Does that surmise what happened?"

"I don't know anymore. My boss was so pissed he fired me. Said I was full of hatred and loathing."

"Who aint?" the lion asked, rhetorically. "I'm pissed because some asshole stole my bitch."

"Please," I pleaded. "Can we not swear? I'm upset, you're upset, maybe we could just talk about it civilized and maybe keep each other some company."

"Oh," the lion chuckled a bit at me. "A prude? I gotcha. I'm just a bit too far gone, so I can't make any promises." Fair, I told myself. I heard it all the time at the youth center but this man looked my age, possibly older, so it was a bit of a shock hearing it from him.

"I don't have a girlfriend, so I have no idea how it would feel to lose one. While I can't say I emphasize, I do sympathize."

"Save the sympathy. You need it too; don't waste it on someone like me."

"Oh come on, you're a person going through a rough time just like me. You're one of God's creatures so it's the job of any Christian to make sure you're emotionally well." I placed my arm around his broad shoulders. It could barely reach the shoulder on his other side. He grabbed my hand softly and pulled it off of his shoulders.

"So you're Christian?" he asked. It was tough to tell what he thought of that revelation. I nodded, and he sighed. "I used to be. Catholic. I studied the bible like the best of them. My parents were proud when I said I'd love to be a priest some day. Those were the musings of an idealistic youth, though. I did something my parents weren't too proud of and they tossed me out on the streets. I've been begging for food and alcohol money ever since. Randy here," he motioned to the tender of the Redroof, "Lets me do the dishes for him so I can get enough to get drunk. Then I go sleep in a refrigerator box in the alleyways behind the building. My bitch was my only bright spot of the day."

"I can tell you cared. Why the derogatory name, though?"

"I thought of it as endearing. Not that it matters much now. I wish I could kill the person who did this."

"You don't want that. The best advice I ever got was that revenge only justifies our own desire to commit crime. You don't want to be a criminal do you?" The face that looked up at me looked pitiful. He had the glassy covering over his eyes that told me he wanted to cry. I pushed back the urge to comfort him in a hug, because of his last reaction to contact. It was actually nice to have company in misery. In a way his misery was distracting me from my own.

"That is smart. And I agree. If I ever met the guy I'd probably just ask him why. Why would he do such a thing?"

"You're justified in asking that. What do you think he'd say?"

"I don't know. He may tell me I deserve it. He might want to hurt me more."

"That doesn't sound like just a passing fancy. This guy seems like he has it out for you. Like a vendetta or something," I waved my paws and stumbled over the word vendetta. I made a mental note to try to stop the larger words from coming out of my muzzle.

"Maybe," the lion said. "Not much I can do about it. On another subject, what did you say that caused someone to hurt themselves?"

"Well, one of my dear friend's came to me and said he was gay. I didn't take it too well," I sighed.

"Personal issues with homosexuality?"

"Not personal," I sighed before continuing. "Religious."

"That's even worse," the lion said. I blinked confused at this.

"Why?" I had never heard of religion expressed in a negative light and this intrigued me as much as it angered me. Curiosity won over anger, because I still wanted this relationship between the lion and I to continue.

"If it were personal, someone could easily slap you out of it. Because it's religious, you feel justified in thinking it, so you feel you have divine backing, no matter how wrong or right that is."

"You said you studied the bible," the fur on my neck was prickling in defense. "Why are you saying I could be wrong?" I could tell his nose was picking up my scent of frustration. His nostrils were flaring.

"Chill for a moment," the lion stated and then paused for me to relax a tad. "The bible is a living word of God and not an immutable word to be taken literally. Say you gave an order, and it was not a literal word. Would you want someone to follow it to a tee, or to question not it's meaning, but its intent? That means someone has more care for the word then the person who never tries to find its intentions," I took a breath to retort but the lion just kept on barreling through his spiel. "Your boss called you hateful, so apparently you have forgotten that hatred is condemned more strongly in the bible. I'm not inherently saying you're wrong or right, just getting you to question. Is your hatred justified, or is it ignoring a greater sin to harass a lesser?"

"I didn't think of that." My brow furrowed as I digested what he said. He was patient in that he didn't press his point until I seemed ready. I would want someone to understand the meaning of what I was trying to say, and if I were to write down my word, I would get so frustrated when my readers misunderstood my intentions. Hatred was an ugly word. I didn't even want to fathom the idea of hatred within myself.

"Most people don't think of it nowadays," he replied. "Because the authorities on the Christian faith tell us to sin, to hate, to segregate us from more sin. The sin they disagree with. Sin to avoid sin. If the church itself is sinning every second of every day, isn't it hard for us not to?" My eyes closed and I pictured all the sins of the church from history. They were many. Ideas like murder, molestation, and theft were common in the holy institution. If your priest was a lying sack of shit, then the followers would be too. It did make sense. Still, though, there were a few times God got pissed enough to come down and punish man directly.

"True but in the bible God directly kills people for one sin and not for most of the others. Aren't we supposed to do the same?"

"Even the pope is not God, and should not give out divine punishment. I'm assuming you're talking about Sodom and Gomorrah, but the real sin of those cities was not homosexuality."

I interrupted him with my own knowledge, "Because in Ezekiel God specifically said the sin was arrogance, inability to help the poor, and with no remorse." That was true, and I knew the passage well. You don't get a doctorate in theology without knowing the bible well enough to remember stories when pressed. When I replayed the story of Sodom and Gomorrah in my head, I was hard pressed to find an explicit example or decree against homosexuality. Damn! I had fallen into a church trap to believe a story had a moral that was different then the intended moral.

My mind snapped into focus, and my buzzed haze left for a short amount of time. I had questioned the church. This was new, and not something I normally did. I felt dirty, and sinful for doing so, but damned if it weren't right. The church led me to believe that the moral of the story was different. I was led astray. Still, I held more cards in my hand to play against the lion's logic. I won't be caught up again.

"And Jesus himself condemned homophobia," the lion continued. Damn he had me there. Reverend Tykes's words were making more sense now and the dawn of recognition fell on my face and it must have been easily recognizable. There still existed other parts of the bible, and homosexuality was not in God's plan, but to be homophobic seemed like just as bad a sin. It could be a greater one if Jesus addressed it explicitly. That was what Tykes, and the lion, have been trying to get across.

"I guess I was wrong," I stated. "Homophobia is just as much as sin as being gay. Maybe more so, but it still doesn't absolve the homosexuals just because I sinned too." My lips stumbled over the confession from my lips. I had just admitted to sin. It felt wrong to admit it, now, and I understood why so many people felt bad about it. Was I really remorseful? No. I was saying what the lion wanted to hear. I felt cornered, and I reacted the only way I knew. Give the aggressor what he wants, and he might not go for the kill.

The lion muttered something I did not catch but immediately stated, "That's a start. In all reality, even doing God's will never absolves you from responsibility for those actions."

"You should join a church again," I chuckled. "You got a good head on your shoulders. I respect that. Your knowledge of the bible is refreshingly sharp."

"Sorry," he muttered. "I have a personal grudge against the clergy and those who profess biblical knowledge. I find it better to study on my own." I guess I shouldn't let him know that I was fired as a youth minister. His self study, though, should be enough if he prayed and kept true to it. Maybe the church wasn't everything. I looked at the shot glass and pushed it away disgustingly. I forgot that the church is not my all, and I can have a nice religious life without it. Some minister I turned out to be, forgetting some of the basic teachings. The tender brought the bottle of liquor over to which I shook my head.

The lion noticed my refusal of more liquor and placed a large paw on my back between my shoulder blades. "Why the sudden change in attitude?"

"I shouldn't be drinking," I said. "I was an alcoholic before, and broke the habit. I forgot that losing some important things in life doesn't mean you can't ever get them back. Sometimes not in the same way, but as long as we're alive, there's hope."

"That's deep man," the lion chuckled. He pushed his glass away as well and shook his head for the tender's attempt to refill. "I'm about one shy of being drunk. I think I'll stop too."

I opened the front door to my home, after taking a taxi home for the night. I could go to the bar tomorrow to pick my car up when I had no alcohol in my system. The lion I had talked to that night followed close behind me into my house, after some lighthearted conversation during the long taxi ride. Not my house for long, I bitterly told myself. If I didn't find a way to get a job or beg for my old one back within a couple months, this home was going to be taken from me, much like my job and my livelihood. It felt right to be a humanitarian with my lion friend who didn't have a home as long as I was blessed with one. I offered him my bed and told him I would stay on the couch, but he refused. In my stubbornness I insisted.

"Only if you join me," he said. I searched his golden eyes for sarcasm but found none. My thoughts also went to the genuinely friendly look the lion gave me. It was almost touching, and his knowledge of the same things I professed to know was alluring. I wanted him to be a close friend, and pushing him away because of his dry sense of humor seemed unlikely. It hit me then that I didn't even know his name. To diffuse the situation I attempted a joke.

"Sorry," I mumbled fighting the grin that was coming to my muzzle. "I don't sleep with someone whom I don't know their name."

"I'm Rakeem," the lion stated calmly. He stepped close, his muzzle only inches from mine. "And you?"

"I'm Ray," I breathed out softly. It almost seemed for a moment that he was going to take me to the bedroom as his paw found mine and held it. My breath caught in my throat and my reaction was dulled. I was too buzzed to care. My eyes closed halfway and a shiver went down my spine. It was a pleasurable feeling and that tied my stomach as well as my conscience in knots. It was then; the lion chose to remove his paw from my wrist and chuckled.

"Wow, you are so gullible," he winked. "The first thing you learn on the street is to play people. To lie with a straight face. It's useful in reading people."

I took a few moments to catch my breath as my conscience came barreling back into control. I was pissed at myself, but I was pissed at the lion more. I chose not to show it to the lion. "That's not a talent to be proud of," was my response.

"I'm not proud of it," the lion stated. "But many times it saved me from pain, or even worse, death. The street is not a cozy place, and it's not easy. A lot of thugs like to think you're beneath them because they have a home and you do not. These are the type of people who know they are the bottom of society, but they have to make fun of those outside society as the true 'losers'," and he held up his paws and curled his pointer and middle finger in mock 'quotes' fashion as he said losers. I could tell that wasn't his words but theirs. "Make them happy and play to them, and you live another night."

"So all that shit about wanting to share the bed, and you grabbing my paw was a joke, huh? Pretty sick joke if you ask me! Disgusting, and revolting in fact. What are you trying to 'read'?" I mimicked his quotes motion when I said read. The lion's eyes went downcast at this comment. It was then that it hit me. The reason he defended homosexuality in our debate and joked about it as if it were nothing was because he either sympathized with them or was one himself, and he suspected I could be too. I choked back my anger.

"Disgusting and revolting?" he asked. "Did a gay person ever hurt you?"

"No they hurt themselves," I stated, as a matter of fact. "They live outside of God's law, and will be judged accordingly. Are you a supporter or a fag?"

"Does it matter?" The lion asked. "Will you reaction be different either way? If I'm gay, I'm the bad guy. If I support them, I'm on the wrong side and everything I say is polluted by Satan." His voice rose and I could tell his agitation was high. His tail lashed behind him thumping into the wall and one of my coffee tables. I could tell the muscles of his cheek were twitching into a snarl, but he had amazing self control.

"I never said that," I raised my voice. I stormed over to the fridge and grabbed a can of coke and opened it and took a swig. The bang of the fridge as it slammed shut was accompanied by another bang as some of the contents fell off their shelves. "Being gay is a direct denial of God's word and his love. Supporting that lifestyle is damning innocent people to hell because you're too chicken to stand against them in this PC day and age. I can't sit by idly and let you do that. I'm here to save souls. If you were a fag, I'd try to save you..."

"Save it," the lion muttered, stopping me in mid sentence. "I know your type. You think everything is justified in the end if you save one soul. It doesn't matter who has to be hurt, or killed in the process. You can hate them, and hurt them because the ends justify the means. Am I right? God's law doesn't apply to you does it? As long as you're doing His will?"

"Of course it applies..." I started before I was interrupted. I had a tendency to speak without thinking when pressed into a corner.

"Hatred." That one word. There it was again. I couldn't win as long as I hated. I did not want to admit it, but he, as well as Tykes held the trump card. In this debate I would lose until that hatred was forfeit.

"So I can't win or save people as long as I hate?" I pleaded.

"Yes," the lion hissed, drawing out the final sound of the word. "Was that so hard to admit?"

"Maybe. My boss told me I was afraid of sin. Maybe he means I'll feel like I would sin by accepting it."

"God tells us sin exists in everyone, and accepting that is in line with God's word, and not against," the lion took the coke from my paw and took a big swig of it. I looked at my empty paw in shock and then looked over at him. I pointed to my empty paw and then to his lips and he grinned at me.

"Never been on the streets, softy." I felt a twinge of anger yet again, but I stuffed it down. This guy wasn't so bad, and he could help me get my job back, with his wisdom. Talking to him all night made me realize that being on the street made him look older than me. In fact, he was most likely younger than me, but being on the streets seemed to smarten him on life more than a PHD could. His thinking seemed in line with Reverend Tykes and I could use that to my advantage. In the end, God said all sin and fall. Accepting that fact is aligned to God's teachings. I agreed with that. The coke returned to my hand when the lion had almost drained it.

"To answer your question, I am a supporter, but I'm also gay myself. That's two strikes against me isn't it?" He grinned wide at me. My muzzle fell open. I was shocked. For one to know so much, and yet be one of them, was shocking. I spent my night with a homosexual, and I didn't know it. In fact, I had not had a better night in my life. Come to think of it, I never knew about Skai either. My preconceived notions of them were called into question. I felt myself drawn into his web, and it scared me. He has to go.

"Maybe it's best for you to go to your box tonight and let me think about a few things." There I was, turning someone away from hospitality, because he was gay. I couldn't deal with him in my bed, nor could I deal with him around while my mind was in such disarray. I needed to recollect myself before I faced him again.

"But," his look was hard to read. His words were pleading, but I saw in his eyes he seemed to be calm. "You lied about giving me a home for the night?" He seemed strangely calm about that fact. It was irritating because he seemed to expect his fate, and maybe even agree with it.

"Get out before I call the police." I said it mournfully. The lion looked like he was going to say something else, but his ears folded and he turned around to leave. The front door closed, and I ran after it to lock it behind him. I turned on my heels and slumped against the door my back falling down it. I looked up to see a faint visage of Skai in the foyer with me. My heartbeat quickened and I was truly scared. His face showed sadness as he looked longingly towards the door. His last action was to shake his head in a resemblance of hopelessness. I tried to crawl back through my front door, but the wood was sturdy. Even after the visage faded I was panic stricken. My first thought was that I had seen a ghost, but in reality, ghosts do not exist. Was I going insane? Was it the alcohol? I folded my hands and prayed in desperation. I blamed the liquor for my initial response to Rakeem's coming on to me, but something nagged at me. After almost a half hour, I was calm enough to put the events of the day into perspective.

My words had forced Skai to kill himself. He wasn't hurting anyone but himself and all he wanted from me was genuine friendliness. I gave him harsh reality. While not in and of itself wrong, I should have realized that certain people are fragile enough to take rejection personally. Moving on with the day, what Tykes and Rakeem had said made sense. Hatred is the direct opposite of God, but wasn't homosexuality a hatred of God? Despite Sodom and Gomorrah, it was clear that sin is hatred of God. Willful sin is hatred of God. Isn't my homophobia justified? No, it couldn't be because hatred is sin. How can you like a sinner, and not join in? You don't. Once hatred is lost for a person that does the action it blurs the lines between righteous and unrighteous. We look to our neighbors, love them, and yet disapprove of their actions? You do not love unconditionally then. The condition on your love is, don't sin around me and we'll be good. That's hypocritical. Temptation is then impossible to resist.

"God!" I cried. "Why make temptation so alluring, and yet demand us to accept and love other sinners who would tempt us? Don't you require perfection from us?" God didn't answer me.

"Striving every day for perfection is useless," Tess stated into the phone. It was almost a week later and I had just gotten through confessing to Tess about Skai, about getting fired, and about the lion that didn't leave the back of my mind. I even told her of seeing a ghostlike apparition. She was a true friend, so I felt I could trust her to know what it was. True, Rakeem was intelligent and kind, and I wanted to see him again. But I wanted it to be clear that he could never convert me.

Tess continued, "Temptation is impossible to resist. In the end, the things that tempt us will cause us to fall. It is the nature of temptation. If an act was not tempting, we could easily ignore it, but the fact that an act is tempting, means we will fall."

"God is about hope, Tess," I said into the phone. "To ask us to strive for a useless goal is hopeless. I just don't understand."

"God is more concerned with the evil in the human heart than what is actually done outwardly. Action is a little less important than intent, like in court! In murdering Skai, you have shown a truly black heart."

"I didn't murder him," I pleaded. Who was I trying to convince: God, Tess, or myself? I wasn't sure anymore. My house was a mess. In my frustrations I had destroyed the cleanliness and neatness I held dear. A week is a short time to move from stable fox to rabid Tasmanian devil. What was I more frustrated about? You would think it would be Skai, but I thought more and more about Rakeem. He was thoughtful, understanding, and on my intellectual level. I hadn't had a close friend in eons aside from Tess. No offense to her, but not being my age she seemed like a mother. Being so immersed in the bible and work, I lost what close contact felt like. I was flooded with how serene it could be. That must be why I didn't react negatively to Rakeem's first joking, brazen attempts at me. I enjoyed his company too much.

"You feel you did," Tess stated as a matter of fact. "And since you do, you feel like you have to pay recompense. Part of your mind is saying to show Skai you don't have an issue with homosexuality to put him to rest. Skai will haunt and torment you until you know you have fully come to terms with what Reverend Tykes said. I think he really is haunting you. You're letting him." She was right. There are striking similarities between Skai's death and my current state. He was haunting me.

"I didn't intend for Skai to die, so how can I be guilty of murder?" I logically asked her.

"You are guilty of hurting the poor boy and breaking his spirit and will to live," she stated. "That was a direct cause of his death."

"My intentions were pure!" I shouted into the phone. "You said God follows intention!"

"Don't talk so loud," she said gently into the phone. "I can hear you. Your intentions were not exactly pure. They were selfish. You wanted to save the boy for your own glory. You already resolved to hate him until he was perfect for you." The 'H' word again. I thought back to what was going through my mind as Skai was talking to me. I even called him the most despicable insult, tail raiser. That was hatred talking, not self righteousness. I conceded her point without telling her. The easiest way to do that is to derail the conversation away from it.

"What do you think God thinks of homosexuality?"

"I don't claim to understand God nor his word to a tee," my derail seemed to work. "Denying support to a kid just because he claims to be gay seems pretty rotten to me though. Also throwing a homeless man who you promised shelter to out of your house seems just as bad." She sighed before she continued. "If you ask me, if you're a good person, being gay isn't going to keep you out of heaven provided you've been saved.

"I am reminded of Isaiah 56," she continued. I racked my brain to remember exactly what part of the book she was going to quote before she did, but came up blank. "All throughout the bible the Law of Israel condemns eunuchs and foreigners. Isaiah 56 is a direct refutation of that. Do you remember what Isaiah claimed on behalf of God there?"

"Not off the top of my head."

"God claims that those who keep the faith and avoid an evil heart are welcome in his church and given everlasting life. I know a Reverend, a friend of mine, of a church up North who is mated to another guy. They have the most normal home life I've ever seen. They donate to charities all the time and open their home once a week to the homeless. That doesn't seem like the Devil's influence, does it?"

"I guess not, but the Devil doesn't work in that way anymore, since Jesus. What about Rakeem, though? I can't forget about him, like I should be able to."

"What about him?" Tess laughed. "Just asking the question shows he meant more to you then a drunken, homeless companion would suggest. Your guilt over Skai may be manifesting itself, or it may be something else. I don't have the answer, only spending time with the kitty will give you any answers. Invite him over. See what happens."

"Thanks, Tess. I don't know what to do anymore, but apparently I've been wrong up 'til now. I'll invite Rakeem over, and see if I can talk him out of homosexuality, without hatred. Talk to you soon."

"You're not necessarily all wro..." I hung up the phone. Everyone was tolerant, and everyone was welcoming to people like them. The world was changing, and I wonder if it is for the best. In the end, though, I have to live in the world I am in. I can't fabricate a fantasy where males mate with females all the time, and everyone is happy and loving. I looked at my photo albums and found Skai's smiling face at the previous church picnic. It was a shame I missed the funeral, but I was too ashamed to show my face in front of Tykes again. Everyone judged me the sinner and not him. That meant it was most likely true. I remembered one thing Skai told me that was wise beyond his years. Looking up in my den, in broad daylight, I saw his visage as I remember the words. The visage spoke. "It doesn't matter who we are, God loves us, doesn't he? He will accept all who believe into heaven, and show no judgment. Life isn't meant to be sinless. Far from it. Life is meant to be good, and to have faith. Whatever we do, as long as it's good, is right! Doing things out of love is the key." At that time I never suspected he was gay, and I was his friend still. I never suspected he was preparing me for his confession. Because of that, I agreed with him wholeheartedly. My response chilled me to the bone with how badly I was unknowingly lying. I spoke along with my memory.

"In the end, God knows we all sin. True he smiles when we resist temptation, but we all fall. Sinning doesn't keep you out of heaven. Being evil to your fellow man and, more importantly, not knowing Jesus does. There is sin that feels right and good, though, and even I fall to that!" It was something I heard Reverend Tykes say once. I liked the quote, and it made sense. The visage nodded and faded. Until homosexuality entered the picture, that is. Why didn't I listen to Tykes before, and deal with my hatred then? Simple answer, because at that time I didn't realize I had this loathing deep inside me. The issue never came up in sermons, nor did any of my peers mention it. It was always in my heart, lying dormant, until Skai.

I twiddled the phone in my paw before dialing the Redroof. It was late enough that the lion may be there. Turns out I was right.

"Hello, Rakeem," I mumbled into the phone. "It's Ray." There was a palpable tension and silence on the other end of the phone for a few moments before I got a response.

"Look, Ray," Rakeem stated. "I'm not in the mood for another hopeful dream crushed, so just drop it." His voice was hard to read. Was it anger, hopelessness, or sadness in his voice?

"But..." I heard the click and growled in frustration. This sudden rejection caused me to loose my nerve. I put the phone down and slumped in the chair. This wasn't going to be easy.

I spent the next couple of days cooped up inside the house. The books I had offered no consolation, because I really didn't want to escape reality at the present time. My foray into alcohol to escape was useless. I had little desire to drink anymore. I spent the time I had mulling over my life. When I was young, I grew up in a privileged middle class home with a white picket fence and a small puppy. I never knew what it meant to go without. College was a shock to me, in that up until that point all I knew was educational institutions, church, and small knit families. Even though my family was small, we didn't know much beyond the surface face we showed. I kept to myself mostly in school. I considered women but almost as easily dismissed them. This presumed righteousness led me into theology.

I didn't grow up in a bubble, though. There were homosexual men in my school, at the supermarket, and definitely at college. I just chose out of haughtiness to avoid them. It was a concept I avoided instead of dealt with. I was better than them, so they didn't need an ounce of my time. Books were a nice distraction from dealing with problems. Sadly, now I either can run away from my problems and lose everything, or deal with them, and possibly face other unknowns that my pristine life couldn't handle. Why couldn't life end outside my precious little bubble?

I wasted away that week. I didn't eat. I lost about 10 pounds, and I started to look a bit better, but famished at the same time. I used my savings on the mortgage instead of anything else. I was getting near the end of that too. In a few short weeks I'd have to call the bank and turn over my keys to try to save what is left of my credit. I didn't want to move to my parents' home, because of my pride. I would rather keep that and live on the street. My parents don't have to know. I couldn't bear to face them with what I had caused. No. I guess it really was what I had done.

Was it really my responsibility? Did I kill Skai? Everyone seems to think so. Did his shame kill him? No, he clearly killed himself because I could never have accepted him. If another Skai came along, would I do anything different? In a heartbeat, I don't want people to have to die. Does that mean I'm okay with homosexuality? That question still has no answer. I just don't know. Tess seems to think homosexuals have a place in heaven. Do murderers? Yes, Jesus gave murderers a place in heaven by loving man and following God. Logic dictated that all sin was equal, which means homosexuals have a place in heaven by doing the same. The realization hit me hard. Love fellow man and love God, and sin is forgiven. All I did was hate. I guess Skai had a better chance of getting into heaven than I did.

The conclusions from my week of sorrow come out neat and clean now when I talk about them. It was a heart wrenching week of deliberation to come to them. The week was full of guilt. I saw Skai in my hallucinations from time to time, and he seemed to show up whenever I was moving back towards my hatred. All I saw was him shaking his head at me, as if to say I was going the wrong direction. Seeing the dead shook my faith a bit, but Tess's explanation seemed more logical. My own mind was bringing up the memory of Skai to stop me from straying in my quest to reconcile with him. It's almost as if my mind wanted closure and knew how to get it, even though my consciousness did not.

First step to closure was to be able to accept homosexuals as people, and to not hate them. That took the entire week. When I declared to myself that they were people deserving of love instead of hatred I felt happy and complete. I was ecstatic that I could invite my lion friend over again to revel in my discovery. I knew there was more, but I'd cross that bridge soon. After all of this, I fed myself decently and went out to take care of a few errands with a new outlook. The last of which brought me back to the Redroof. The lion could ignore me on the phone but now I wanted to explain my revelations face to face. Both he and Tess banged it into my head. I had lived a life with little trials and tribulations, and therefore never had my wrong assumptions questioned. I understood how they could make you a better person or break you. I resolved to be a better person.

It was the middle of the day when I walked into the Redroof. The tender gave me a mean look but let me sit at the bar. The place was deserted, but clean, as it was just a few minutes after opening. I knew I had to order something or be kicked out, and the bartenders greeting, I knew he would use that right as soon as he could. I'm sure Rakeem told him of everything. I felt a little betrayed that our words were not in confidence, but I had little reason, in all fairness, to be angry. I placed my order for some cheap, fried food and asked about the lion.

"Come to harass him a bunch more, huh?" the tender asked with a snort. "Why should I tell you where he is?" His voice started to rise. "You're some piece of trash. Preaching all the shit you do, and then lying and kicking a fur out of your house that has nowhere to live. You have no idea how badly I want to hurt you."

"Oh shut up, Randy," a muffled voice came from the kitchen. A second later the door opened and I was face to face with Rakeem. He was wearing an apron that was soaked and his paws were wet to the elbow. I caught the glimpse and whiff of soap suds on his wrist and his paws themselves were in white dish gloves. He was pointing a finger at the tender. Then he noticed who was sitting on the stool in front of him. His eyes widened and a look of surprise played over his features. "Well, well, well," he muttered.

"Look, Rakeem," I put out my paws in a sort of peace offering. "I'm very sorry I kicked you out that night." The lion's face turned into a snarl, and he stepped up to me, and pulled me out of the seat by my collar. My eyes widened in fear, and I went to take a breath. Luckily, he was not gripping hard enough that I could not breathe. He got a wry grin on his face and leveled his eyes at me.

"I was going to ask why you would do such a thing, but you've already answered that ten times over, Bigot!" the last word caused spittle to fly onto my nose.

"Look, I said I'm sorry," I pitifully cried. I tried to weakly push him off, but against this big male specimen, I was just a mosquito. "I have something else to say, too," I stuttered.

"Go ahead," Rakeem muttered. "I'm not like you. I'm not going to push you away just because you're the type of guy I don't like."

"Homosexuals like you deserve a place in heaven!" I exclaimed. The lion's stare softened a little before I continued. "I don't, at least not yet! I was stupid to kick you out of my house, just like I gave stupid advice to my constituent. I want us to move past this and maybe be friends. You're a smart, wonderful guy. I knew that from the moment we spoke. I like you a lot, Rakeem. You don't deserve your lot in life."

"It's when people like you become parents that people like me get bad lots in life," the lion stated. He chuckled wryly and looked to the tender. "He doesn't know anything, does he?" The tender just shook his head. "Keep it that way."

"What are you talking about?"

The lion released my collar and poked between two of my ribs with his claw and I gave a yelp of pain. "Starving yourself, huh? Were you fasting for enlightenment?"

"No, it wasn't like that!" I shook my paws to blow off the suggestion. "I was too preoccupied to eat. But I ordered food. I'm not anorexic."

"Yea, you are, but we'll ignore that for now." He sat aside me and moved his paws in circles as if to as me to 'go on'. "Tell me what you think now."

"First, I'll explain myself. Someone put it nicely when they said I always was one of the privileged people. I always believed everyone either had the same strengths and opportunities as me, or they weren't worth my time. I'd dismiss them like some rich snob. I surrounded myself with things that never needed my attention, and that I never had to deal with."

"So dealing with homosexual males, is a completely new thing for you huh? You're just proving you're a closed minded bastard."

"Well I hope I'm proving I was. Recently homosexuality has come to the forefront of my mind, and at first I was angry."

"You mean afraid," the lion said, as a matter of fact.

"Afraid? That word keeps on coming up. I'm not sure what anyone means when they say it."

"You're afraid you'll lose everything if you sin once," the lion stated. I was about to argue when he places a finger on my lips to tell me to be quiet. "Sure on a hypothetical level you know everyone sins, including you, but in practice, you don't really think it means you. A lot of people think if they surround themselves with something, they will soon be it. Kind of like people think we homosexuals recruit. You think if you're around sinners, you'll sin, and that is not acceptable to you." He made sense, I reasoned. Right now I was open to any explanation, because I was grasping at straws to figure out why someone is dead, and someone else got turned away in need. "I know you're taking in what I'm saying, but I also know you're not thinking critically about it."

I opened my mouth to speak and the lion pushed his finger inside and pressed on my tongue. All I tasted was the latex gloves he had on and some residue of dish soap. It was nasty.

"Listen for once." His earlier anger was all but gone now. I was surprised. "You're weak. I'm weak. Individuals are weak. I know you think you've come to the right answer, but the fact of life is we refine those answers day by day until we die. I'm sure you're excited that you no longer want to kick me out of your house, and you want me to stay over to prove it. But under that guise I'll refuse. It's the wrong reason. Just like you accept that I think that you think you'll sin around sinners etcetera. Until you personalize what I say, you'll always be one step away."

I knew better than to speak. I really couldn't with the pressure he had on my tongue. I really wanted to though. My tail bristled with the anticipation of being able to speak again. He removed his finger but still held it up.

"You're on the right track, dear. You treat adulterers with pity and homosexuals with malice, but I tell you one sin actually hurts, whereas the other is hurt-less. Think about that." I looked down and sighed. He was right again. I was just accepting his advice instead of thinking of it all as my day of reckoning. I had to internalize the advice and change. I spent many minutes with my head down in front of him and he, like the patient lion he was, waited for me. I looked up at his eyes and almost mentally tripped. They were a deep azure, like the color of the sky. The way his muzzle protruded broadly underneath framed his messy, dirty mane nicely. He would clean up remarkably. Before I could speak he took my paw and pulled me up.

"Randy, cancel this fox's order," he chuckled. "We're going out for the evening. For fun, instead of lectures."

That night sounded the gong of defeat or the trumpet of victory. I'll never know which in the grand scheme of things. His calm, overly confident, yet gentle demeanor was hard to pass up. He took me to all the best sight-seeing places in the slums. While the street was dirty, broken, and the constant bangs of construction workers and guns hurt the ears, there were some high places to go to catch a glimpse of the sun setting over the suburban horizon, suburbs much like my neighborhood. He showed me some of the things people threw out, and how he was able to live on them. While very unappealing, I knew now why the homeless refused the food pantry. Independence is a wonderful thing.

By the end of the night, we found ourselves back at my place. I had paid for a nice dinner for us, with the last of my money. It was nice having a best friend close in age, and with similar trials and tribulations. We talked about sports, politics, religion, and current events. It was the most fun I could ever remember, and I told him as such. We ended the night on a bridge near my home which overlooked a small stream. It was a clear sky, with the stars sparkling. They danced over the waves of the stream like fireflies on a warm summer's day. The chill air told me otherwise, and it was in fact a cold clear winter's night. The lion looked down at the waves and looked like a kitten with a ball of string. It was nice seeing him like that.

"I had a lot of fun tonight, Ray," he said, not looking up at me. "I never thought I'd say it, but I'm glad I saw you again."

"I had fun too. I'm glad you gave me a second chance after getting off on the wrong paw. I'm trying not to hate you and other homosexuals," I sighed. "It's tough, because of what I am."

"You mean a youth minister?" I turned to look at him in shock. The lion smiled and continued. "Randy is a very good friend of mine, remember?"

I nodded silently. I looked up at the sky, and took in the night air. It tasted like wood stoves. It was winter after all. "You understand," I started. "I'm not supposed to accept sin. The passion I exert is my asset in my job. Also, everyone around me until I started working with Tykes hated homosexuals."

"Shh," the lion shushed me. "I know why you were that way. Rome wasn't built in a day, dear. You'll make some realizations about yourself, now that you're trying not to hate."

"You make it difficult to hate," I said.

"Thank you," the lion stated.

Over the next few days we ignored a lot of the troubles in our lives. I took him to the park for long walks. Walking beside him, I tried to always remind myself that this was a homosexual, because it was hard to see him that way. He was overly masculine, confident in every way, but he was always a gentleman where it counted. I kept reminding myself as an exercise. I didn't want to hate him when I thought of him that way, and it was difficult. When I ignored his homosexuality, I liked him, though. Thinking of him as two different people, though, only served to confuse me more. One night, about a week after our first night at my kitchen table, I told him what I was doing with him. He seemed thoughtful for a long while before he smiled at me. The smile of approval he gave me when I made progress was a good reward.

"You think of me as Rakeem the man, and Rakeem the homosexual, don't you?"

"Yes," I stated. It seemed weird him outlining it like that. It was true, though. I saw how everyone reacted to homosexuals in my older churches from childhood and college. Only Tykes's church was different. They were like lepers, in that you wanted to cure them, but also stay far away. I couldn't separate the word homosexual from despicable because of my theology classes, my parents' comments on the gay rights parades in town, and my childhood friends' violence towards them. With the experience it made sense to hate the term by default. If I pulled that term far from Rakeem it was easier to be with him and like him.

"I am a man," Rakeem explained. "I always will be, even when you attach the stigma of homosexuality to me. I don't change when I am one or the other, only your perception of me changes. Why are you doing that to yourself?"

"I'm trying to disassociate negativity and homosexuality," I explained. "If I feel intensely positive towards you, I try to remember you're a homosexual not to dampen that, but to associate who you are with that positive feeling you give me when we're hanging out, shooting pool, or just watch movies together. It's starting to work, I think."

"That's a very unique approach," the lion stated. "I'm glad it's starting to work. Now, if you talk to me about religion, and the like, I'll be more receptive, because I know you respect me. That respect makes me want to listen to you. That respect is deeper now, because I know how hard it was for you to say that and to come as far as you have." Rakeem stood and walked up to me and ran a paw down my shoulder and arm before catching himself and pulling it back. I shivered at his touch again, and that confused me. The waves of revulsion that ran over me were a lot weaker that time. That scared me. Was my acceptance of homosexuality clouding my own thought about who I was?

The lion coughed a bit to bring us both back to the moment. "Your change over the past week has been admirable, and I admire you greatly for it. That admiration is pulling feelings of kinship to the forefront. I can say I truly think you are a friend now. Plus your kindness in sheltering me from the worst of winter this past week. I don't know how I'll ever repay that."

"Don't worry," I stated. "It's nothing."

The lion took my paw and lifted me out of my seat and walked me outside back to the bridge, his paw in mine. I saw the holding paw as a sense of camaraderie building between us. There seemed nothing perverse from it, and I didn't love him. Therefore it was innocent. Besides, Rakeem seemed to get so much joy from it. Outside it was a lot darker and snow started to flurry down upon us. He smiled at me and released my paw and looked over the stream. It took me back to the first night on this bridge. I remember avoiding all thoughts of homosexuality when it came to the lion. I was nice to him when I thought of him as a man, but things change. He was a man, and a homosexual. He deserved friends too. My realization that Skai was most likely in heaven meant that this kind lion would be someday too. I hoped not too soon.

"What are you thinking of, dear?" Rakeem stated. He took to calling me that when the night was going well.

I looked up to the sky and uttered, "Why me?" The lion frowned as he spoke.

"Why you, what?"

"Why are you being so friendly? Why are you helping me? I don't deserve it."

"From all you've done, most would agree with you there," he stated. "You don't deserve much. But I disagree. You're a selfish, bigoted bastard, who would hurt his friend before his friend could hurt him." I felt hurt at his words and I'm sure he could see the look of hurt on my face. My friend, or who I thought was my friend was calling me thusly? "But," he continued. "You're slowly warming to humanity. This," he waves at the perfect night, "Is getting to you. Therefore, your heart is now open to other possibilities. No matter what bad you've done, you're definitely moving on. Your life is your own, so don't live it like your parents and friends told you to. Live it how you feel you should. Because of all that, you'll be a fine husband someday. You won't have to be alone anymore." I smiled and gave him a friendly hug, like one friend to another.

"That means a lot," I said. I released him and caught a wily look on his muzzle before it flattened out. I chose to ignore it. For once, I chose to keep my mouth shut on my observations, instead of questioning.

"That answers your question of why. I am friendly," he continued. "I'm helping you because I see an intelligent individual being stifled by his past. Because our first night at the Redroof, before you were so cruel at your house, was actually something I haven't had in ages. Someone that needed me and whom I actually had the tools to help. Even after realizing your cruel ways."

"How could your old boyfriend ever have left you for someone else?" I chuckled. "Being so forgiving, and kind? You're like an angel!"

The lion got a glazed look over his muzzle again and he looked to the sky. I realized I brought up a sore spot for him, and went to apologize but he held up a paw. "Thank you for the kind words, dear," he said. I dropped the subject.

For the next week we were inseparable. He resigned to taking my bed while I slept on the couch. I had to give him some of the comfort I enjoyed for years and took for granted while he was in a box on the street. I never knew how much I missed people, but with a second person in the house it was great. He cooked for me and cleaned, and I would re-clean when he was done. The lion would laugh as I moved books from one place to another and rearrange the desks after he was done. He told me he saw it as adorable when I apologized for any insult. He liked my 'quirky' ways, as he called them. Not having to work, I had a lot of time to spend with him. We shared most of our non professional interests in movies, books, and the like.

By the end of the second week, his homosexuality was no longer a thought in my mind. When my mind would say 'he's gay', the retort was a quick 'so what'? Bring gay wasn't a negative thing for me, anymore. True, God didn't condone it, but he would forgive it like all other sins. True I had no idea what homosexuality was about, and still believed that the love could never be as deep as a man for a woman, but if it was what they desired, who was I to judge. God told us never to judge, anyway. These realizations still made me feel incomplete. They didn't give me the joy I thought I would have. I was happy I had conquered my hatred, but something more was needed. I still felt that Skai could not rest in peace just yet.

I hid the troubles with the mortgage from Rakeem, but I had scheduled a meeting with the bank for a week from then. My stay in paradise was over. Perhaps Rakeem and I could look out for each other on the streets? It was a grim possibility. I was particularly glum the night I scheduled the meeting and Rakeem noticed.

"Everything okay?" Rakeem stated. It was a particularly close evening of movie watching we had with his paw on my knee and the other around my shoulders. His casual touches of affection were now something I looked forward to instead of dreaded. It was just a friend showing he cared.

I sighed and shook my head. "Nothing gets by you. I'm worried about money."

"Is that it?" Rakeem asked. I felt slightly insulted by his downplay of my worries but he squeezed my shoulders. "Don't worry about it. At least not tonight. It's past business hours, we can't look for a job, and all the worrying in the world right now won't fix things."

"You're right," I stated. I was stupid to try to bring the mortgage up. But my other worry came to the forefront of my thoughts with money pushed aside. "But, I still don't feel like life is aligning correctly yet."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't get me wrong the last two weeks with you have been an eye opening experience, and I thank you for it. You're a good friend and I don't want to push you away, but how things have been, doesn't seem like everything I need. I still feel a hollow space now that I let emotions have their sway with me. It's like I'm one step from happiness, but continuing in this way with you isn't going to solve this. While we'll always be best friends, I think I need to look to finding a wife." He nodded, stood, and walked to the bedroom. I followed curiously. Surely, he would not leave the conversation there.

Rakeem turned to me once we were in the bedroom and smiled a strange smile, which I could not place. This is where I normally just said good night and gave him a friendly hug. Something told me that I had two choices, and each would define my life. I could turn, and run away from this grin, which frightened me, or I could stay, and be swept away by where this went. A flash of recognition passed the lion's face and he realized my dilemma. I attempted to do my normal nightly routine of making to hug him, trying to diffuse the choice I knew we both wanted me to make. I had no clue what the choice even was, but this scene seemed so loaded that it had to be important.

"You've come a long way," he stated simply. I paused my attempt at normalcy and nodded. "Your mind is grasping at what it thinks it needs and giving it a name. I've known since that first night that you don't need a wife. Now it's time to let me set your heart free," and with that he pulled me close to him in a hug. This wasn't the type of hug you gave your best friend. This was the type of hug you gave someone you were dating. His firm, confidant paw grasped my butt cheek tightly. Did he think we were dating? Were we? A warm feeling started to tug at my chest. It seemed to be emanating from there. My conscious mind was on the back burner while he held me. I felt a tickle at my neck that got warm and wet, and I realized he was nibbling softly. I groaned softly, but my own noise startled me back to reality. My paws weakly pushed him away, and like the gentleman he was, he backed off. It took me a couple moments to get my breathing under control and I shook my head.

"I'm not gay," I pleaded with him. "I've enjoyed the last couple weeks with you. Don't ruin it!" The lion, paws still holding me at a distance, shook his head and moved one of his paws and placed it on my groin. I realized most of the warm feeling that lingered after the hug originated there and his touch sent another burst of it through my body. I was aroused. I couldn't lie, because he knew.

"Ever since that first night, I knew," he stated. "In all reality, you're afraid of those who are gay, and whom you care for, simultaneously. You push those away, and hurt them so they won't out you. That was always the last piece. In accepting homosexuality, you let those feelings free in you."

"But..." I stuttered. My fox-hood twitched against his warm paw and he squeezed it lightly in response. "I am a man of God!"

"So were the child molesting priests. Being a man of God and loving me are not at odds with each other. Listen to your conscience. Is it telling you to stop, or is it only your parents, your previous ministers? The Holy Spirit is your conscience. Everything else is your flawed experience. They're different." I looked deep into myself, and I realized my conscience was silent. It regretted poor Skai, and how I had treated many people up until now, but on this issue it was quiet. Being with Rakeem, felt right. The regret over Skai told me what my conscience sounded like, so I was not mistaken on this issue.

"I don't think I can do this, though," I stuttered. "It feels right, but sin and temptation always does. My conscience is silent. I accept that I have to love the sinner, but how can I live sinning daily and not feel bad?"

"You do feel bad," Rakeem said, with a sultry tone to his voice. "You know that once we start, IF we start, we'll be together for a long while doing this daily, and you admit it to yourself. That's admirable, because I know we won't leave each other. It will get easier. You could either ask for forgiveness daily after we do, or bask in the gift of sex. No one will blame you for finally accepting who you are, and what you feel for me."

"So if I sin daily..." Rakeem licked my muzzle and his tongue brushed against my teeth. This caused me to sputter. My protesting was weak, and we both knew it. I knew I was giving in. I didn't see it as giving in, though, or giving up. I saw it as defeating the part of me that kept me a lonely, hate filled fox. Surely God does not want a servant like that.

"Shut up, foxy," he said right after licking my muzzle once more. "We're expressing the feelings we share physically. God is love. So... love. You'll be no more or less righteous than the fucking pope. We're all imperfect, but we live with it, and move on, loving our fellow man, doing our duties to society, and loving God. That is how we glorify God. We don't by attempting to live a sinless, perfect existence and failing. That only makes us miserable. But being with me is no sin if your feeling is true," he paused and nuzzled the tip of my nose. "And I know it is."

The realization must have shown on my face because Rakeem leaned into me and placed his broad muzzle over my narrower one. His lips connected with mine and I was shocked at how soft they felt. My body started to respond to the kiss by opening my lips and meeting his tongue with mine at the connection. His tongue slowly ran along mine until it was fully in my muzzle, and he gently massaged mine with his. I was helpless by then to stop him. I felt a breeze and heard the rustle of fabric and realized that as he was giving my tongue a wonderful massage, he had undone my pants and gave a small pull. At first I though he had just removed my pants but when his paw connected with my bare scrotum, I knew otherwise. I gasped, inadvertently breaking the kiss we shared. His eyes showed no conquest or victory. I was not a prize. He only showed me understanding. He understood the sacrifice of my old self I was making and he thanked me for it. If this was sin, the argument was that it made me real. It made me imperfect, which aligned with God's teachings and will. True, he tells us to avoid temptation, but he will always open his arms for us if we always love and forgive others, as he loves and forgives us. If this was not sin, then I was glorifying God by loving this hunk of a lion to the fullest. It wasn't exactly a win-win, but there wasn't much to lose.

As he started to kneel before me, he spoke. "I've enjoyed the past couple of weeks too, and you showed me that even the worst people, can change. You were just a product of your upbringing, and I'm a sappy, forgiving fool for the many wrongdoings you have done against me and others." I stared intently as his tongue snaked out slowly from his muzzle to my now erected penis, outside of my sheath. I had a light pink erection, which measured just about 6 inches long. It was average in girth, or so I thought. It was a little thicker than a Kennedy half dollar, I would guess. It looked like my partner for the night didn't mind. I knew little about how males mated, and I was timid of what he was going to do with his muzzle. I doubt any preparation on his part would have worked. My spine tingled with anticipation, causing my tail to twitch rapidly, like a vibrator. When his tongue connected with the head of my dick, the anticipation of what he was going to do almost killed me. When his muzzle opened, showing his large incisors I knew he was going to put my dick in his muzzle.

He kept his lips tight as my penis penetrated his muzzle. My hips trembled with the urge to force more into his throat, but his paws chose that moment to steady me. I couldn't fight his strength. The inside of his mouth was hot, and moist, and his tongue was like silk against my engorged dick. The sight of this pinnacle of masculinity on his knees with my penis in his muzzle was almost too much. Then, he started to move my dick out of his muzzle, as if to pull off, and I whimpered when his lips caressed over the head. He surprised me when he pulled on my thighs to cause me to hump into his muzzle quickly. Then his muzzle started to move on its own, gliding from the tip of my cock to the base, where the knot was slowly forming. My paws fell down to his ears and I grabbed just behind them to aid my hips in plunging my meat into his throat. The head of my cock was pushing past the tight ring at the top of his throat and the sensation set my will to rest. I was going to breed this lion's muzzle, and there was nothing I could do to stop myself. I was already in his throat, so there was no going back. The slow tantalizing pace of our breeding was matched by the slow lazy motions of his tail behind him. Left, right went his tail. In, out went my cock.

One of his paws pressed underneath my tail and I felt that it was slick. My tail instinctively rose out of the way, not understanding the implication of the moment. I then sniffed the air to smell a rather odd smell I could not distinguish. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a small travel sized bottle with the label 'Wet' on it. I wasn't prepared when his other paw grasped behind my knot tightly. That motion alone drew my balls close to my body. I could feel the tingle in the base of my penis that I was quickly approaching the point of no return. With him holding my knot, he controlled where my seed will go. When his tongue stuck out of his muzzle it caused his throat to tighten just a bit more on my cock. He then used the tip of his tongue to lave over my knot. That was enough sensation for this fox. I yowled out loud as I bred the muzzle of the lion servicing me. My pelvic area felt a twinge of pain which was quickly overshadowed by the rest of my orgasm. I shot my essence deep into the lion's gullet, but he pulled almost completely off of my penis, collecting the last bit of my semen into his muzzle.

As I slowly fell back down to earth, I felt a pressure on my behind and realized that 3 of the lion's fingers were deep inside me pressing a button that had milked my orgasm to be a lot more productive. That was the pain I felt in my pelvis during orgasm. I didn't care, because his fingers were so slick. My face got redder as I realized how quickly I had come. I also felt that I should have warned him before forcing him to taste my seed. He stood carefully and slammed his muzzle to mine, almost forcing his tongue, coated in my seed into my muzzle. My tongue lapped at his tentatively, until I registered the taste. It was slightly bitter, but not more so than church wine or beer. I then resolved myself to suck at his tongue until there was no more. After a minute he pulled his muzzle away from mine and smirked. That put my fears to rest about coming in his muzzle or how quickly I had come. With no words he pushed me backwards lightly and I fell on the bed, on my back. He pulled his fingers from my behind and quickly removed his shirt. Being on the street had given him well defined pectorals, but not sculpted into perfection like some body builders I have seen. The sweat matted down the fur and gave it a dull luminescence in the night glow. He then removed his pants and he must have grabbed his boxers in the same swipe of his paws because I was face to face with perfection.

Luckily his penis was not like his four legged relatives, because it would have torn me open. Instead of barbs, he had little nubs on the tip of his cock, which seemed more for massage purposes than to rip. His maleness was a deep red color, almost the shade of blood. It was longer than mine by an inch or so, but luckily was just about as thick. I say luckily, because his paws in my rear told me what he intended to do. His tail lazily roped around behind him and he looked into my eyes. There was a silent communication there. He was telling me that he was going to be gentle, but that it would hurt. At first I gave him a worried look, one that said I almost did not want him to do this. With my first climax of the night already behind me, I could think clearer. To receive a blowjob from this stud was one thing, but to surrender my bowels to his seed seemed too far beyond where I was. Rakeem shook his head slowly and leaned down and nibbled on the front of my neck this time. My muscles, that I had tensed guarding against him loosened. I felt a pressure on my behind and then a hot stinging sensation. It was like a bee sting, but lasted as long as a sting with no venom. My lower abdomen felt full as his maleness pushed outwards on my rectum walls. He was in, and my behind had let him in. The pain was gone.

"Please," I groaned. "Do we need this tonight? I don't know if I'm ready." I didn't move to press him away, or to get away. His muzzle nibbled at my neck for a moment longer as I felt the nubs of the head of his cock press their way into me. He straightened his back and placed my hind paws on his shoulders.

"Ray," he started. "I do care for you. Do you trust me?" I knew at that moment my life was at a pivotal moment. I had two choices. Everything he had done to this point could be considered heterosexual experimentation. Many straight people got blow jobs from homosexuals. If I let him breed me as one would a female, I would no longer be a virgin, and I would be his. Would he be the top in the relationship? This thought caused me to shudder, because it seemed so unequal. My face played a torrent of emotions. His hips contacted my rear, and he sighed. It seemed we were so emotionally connected, that he could read my thoughts. This connection excited and terrified me at the same time. I felt him pull out and the nubs pressed the inside of my bowels once more before they left and his penis pulled completely out of my behind. He gently laid my hind paws down to the floor and crawled on top of me to sit on my crotch, my flaccid member pressed against his behind. In gratitude I grasped that red monster between his thighs and started to slowly massage with both of my paws, using the lube to help. The air of disappointment left only to be replaced with a moan of gratitude from the kitty.

I focused one of my paws on the head of his member, using my palm to bluntly rub along the opening on top. The other paw grasped his member, making sure the fur contacted him. I started the age old stroking any man knows how to do, yet on my lion lover instead of myself. The 'eye' of his cock stared at me and drooled under my administrations. I brought the paw that was rubbing the head of his cock to my nose and sniffed. The scent warmed my cold loins, and even though I had just spewed, I was getting ready again. What Rakeem did next, amazed me. He got up off of my lap and used his slick paw to rub along my hardening member. Once I was rock hard yet again, he sat down. My cock did not find the crease of his ass like it did when it was flaccid. It pressed into him, past his anus.

If I thought his muzzle was heaven, it would be earth compared to this. Every inch of my penis from the tip to the base was snug in the space of his bowels. He also was able to take me from head to deflated knot without a whimper. This lion wasn't about exerting his intoxicating masculinity over smaller, insecure males and making them his females. He was about love. For only one fox. Me. Shit! That is what this was. We were dating the past few weeks, and they all led up to this. Homosexuality wasn't about sneaking gropes in dark alleyways from drugged up guys and raping little children in confessionals. It was about the relationship two males can share, and how it can be the same thing as what man and woman share.

"I love you, kitty," I blurted out, as I pressed my cock as deep as I could into him. I blushed and snapped my eyes shut, and my face almost turned redder than my fur underneath. I couldn't believe I just said that. My eyes opened slowly to see the understanding leonine face.

"I know, foxy," Rakeem gently cooed. "Now you know why I am the way I am." He didn't wait for me to register what was going on and his hind paws pushed him off of my dick only to let gravity pull him back down, "and I love you too." Not to be idle, my paws returned to caressing his beautiful cock. And it was beautiful. I was no longer ashamed of his body as I took full use of it. One of my paws left the head of his penis and rubbed down to his balls. I cupped them in my paw, but my paw was too small. I squeezed them gently and felt their tenderness, and the heat they exhumed. They churned with desire as my other paw worked over his entire shaft. Looking down my chest, I could see my cock when he was at the top of his stroke, but it would disappear on the down-stroke.

I felt something akin to a contraction on my maleness, and I groaned very loudly, my eyes snapping shut. The contraction repeated itself a few more times, and I groaned louder each time. I even shouted the Lord's name aloud. I was too far gone to care. When they stopped, and all I felt was the rhythmic massage of his inner walls as he still rode my vulpine cock, I opened my eyes to look into his azure ones. He had an almost evil grin on his muzzle, and I knew he did it on purpose. I smiled as my paw that gripped his cock tightened and started a quick jerking motion, instead of a smooth stroking motion, which is what I was doing before. As my reward, the lion's eyes closed and he snarled out in his pleasure. I also tensed my cock deep inside him, causing it to throb as I'm sure it pressed his g-spot, whatever it was on a gay man. His snarl turned into a moan of approval as I did that. I was satisfied that my penis could cause such a masculine male to moan deep inside him. As much as he could send my mind into a blissful state, I could do the same to him. There was no top or bottom. I began to wonder how it would feel to be penetrated in this situation.

I reached down with my free paw, the one not going to town on his cock, to the connection between us. My knot was getting bigger and my urge was to tie. Feeling his skin wrapped so snugly around mine as I disappeared into him was ecstatic. I opened my eyes lightly to see his muzzle and he was not paying attention to me. My paw and my cock were his world, just as his cock and his ass were mine. Tying us together was my instinct, and yet it would be very bad if he was not accepting. Tying was meant for really close relationships, and while I felt that way for him, I had no clue where he was. Also, he had no knot and may not want to imagine his mate does have one.

"Ugh," I grunted. "My knot..." I grunted with my next breath. I'm sure he got my meaning. In a few seconds I'd either be locked in or locked out. I wanted in, but it was his call. He pumped on my cock a few more times and I shouted out about my knot one more time, as I knew it was the breaking point. At this point the lion let all his weight on top of my hips. He roared, presumably in pain as the knot slammed into him. To ensure the tie, he contracted his sphincter as soon as his butt met my crotch. He was mine, and he wasn't going anywhere for a while now as my knot engorged with blood, expanding the insides of the lion's butt. It was almost instantly too big to vacate. My fear about how he felt for me was quelled, because it was common knowledge what a tie meant to a canine. My free paw clawed into the fleshy mound of his ass and I pulled him down on me and started a shallow humping. I was surprised that my lust driven motions were enough to push him off of me a few inches so my cock could feel it. The sudden introduction of the knot must have been too much for the kitty, because his cock started to drool a steady stream onto my paws. As my seed started to rush out of my balls as I climbed up to the point of no return, his face scrunched up in all the sexual tension.

Simultaneously, the seed erupted from my cock deep inside him as I felt the inside of him get hotter and wet and the head of his cock swelled. I looked down in time to see a forceful spurt of come, signaling the start of his orgasm too. The spurt splashed all over my face, muzzle, and even stung my eye a little getting in. My eyes quickly closed as I felt another spurt on my muzzle. The rest hit my neck, chest, and finally a dribble all over my stomach. During this time, my own penis continued to wash the kitty's inner walls. My knot formed the perfect seal with his sphincter because almost nothing leaked out. I felt the pressure of his insides as they strained to accommodate. As both of our orgasms wound down I felt a weight land on me roughly. I exhaled quickly as the breath was pushed out of me, and then felt a light licking on my eye lids. After a moment the licking hit my muzzle. I opened my eyes and the burning was gone. I felt the sticky slimy mess between us but I cared little. I felt my knot tied into a male, but my cock didn't care about Rakeem's gender. I saw his eyes as they looked deep into mine, and I knew that this was it. I wasn't going back. For a moment I thought I saw Skai, smiling at me, by the door of my bedroom but after a blink he was gone. I took that as another hallucination of my mind, but I knew better. My mind had let go, and Skai no longer haunted me. He was resting in peace, hopefully in heaven.

Rakeem leaned down and started to kiss my muzzle. I joined in, basking in the afterglow. The kisses were gentler than before and our tongues did not battle, but simply grazed along each other lazily. My paw left his deflating cock and I wrapped him up in a warm hug. The kiss lasted for a long time before his muzzle separated from mine. He licked my nose innocently.

"How long are we stuck?" he asked timidly.

"What?" I asked. "Never been with a canine before?" I chuckled.

"I'm not a slut," Rakeem stated, firmly.

"I know," I said. "But you're not a virgin." I said it like I knew. I really did not, but it was an assumption. Cleaned up and in nice clothes, he looked around 25, gay, and didn't have qualms about sex. I'd be shocked if he was a virgin.

"I was not, but you aren't either anymore," he jibed. A wash of sorrow fell over me, and I realized he was right. I started to mourn my lost virginity but then the lion rubbed my sides and kissed my muzzle.

"It may not be with whom you imagined, but is this how you imagined losing it?" he inquired. I think he wanted to be sure I had no regrets.

"Yes," I stated calmly. "This is exactly how I thought it would be. And we should separate within 10 minutes."

"I'm glad this is what you wanted," the kitty said. "And I could have you inside me forever."

"But how could I return the favor, then?" I attempted to joke.

"When you say you're ready."

"We'll need to go on with life away from the bedroom," I shyly stated.

"My life is you," the lion affirmed. We leaned in for another kiss.

I looked at the death date on the tombstone and looked at my calendar. They agreed. There were no mistakes in the carving. No one cared about Skai's death, but my errands before meeting Rakeem the second time at the Redroof had included buying a plot and a tombstone for the little kangaroo. I went further into debt to do it, but I had to. His body was not in the ground, it was in an urn at his mother's, but some remembrance had to exist for the common world to see. It was a simple tombstone that said his name, his birth and death date, and the words 'God's Little Angel'. I am not very poetic, but he saved me. He was a little angel to me.

"I knew I'd find you here," I spun around quickly and gasped as I saw the lion that had taken my virginity the night before. He was walking up to stand beside me in front of Skai's memorial. He had left the house early this morning after we shared a breakfast together. He said he had some very important things to take care of. It baffled me what responsibilities a homeless man had, but I shrugged that off quickly. Now I seethed with a slight annoyance that he saw me in this position. I looked at my sin, the tombstone, and felt dread. I never actually told Rakeem what I did to poor Skai, and I felt dirty. I was also confused and surprised he knew where I was.

"How did you...?" I lost my words at that point. I was confused beyond measure. He pointed behind me and I turned around to see Reverend Tykes walking up the hill towards us as well. I was frantic right now. What the hell was going on? Neither of them knew about Skai's tombstone, so they should not know where I was.

"Calm down, Foxy," Rakeem said in a soothing manner. It helped, until I heard the booming voice of the bear.

"What the hell have you gone and done now, Fauce!" He practically shouted. He closed the distance fast and stood looking at me with his paws across his chest. My jaw dropped. He couldn't know about what Rakeem and I did, did he? Was he going to beat me up for giving in to the alluring kitty? My mind was trying to grasp what I had done, and why Rakeem knew where to find me. I also wanted to crawl in a hole and die. I didn't want anyone to know about what I did for Skai. This seemed like a private secret Skai and I shared to show I was a good man. The scowl on the bear's face caused me to back away slowly. I bumped into the lion and he put his arms around me to hold me comfortingly. It gave me a little courage but I was still terrified of the bear knowing all I've done. Did he have unfinished business, like pounding my face, that couldn't be done in church. Then it hit me that Rakeem must have led him here. He was in on it! I made to struggle a bit out of my lion's grasp but he tightened his grip on me. The bear's voice stopped my struggling.

"Fauce," the bear started. "That was a mighty ballsy thing you did," he stated. Sensing my confusion he waved his hand over the tombstone. "This has to be the most selfless thing I could think of, and for Skai, a gay man, as well." The bear smiled and showed his teeth. "Not only that, I hear you're fucking around with men, too!" I scowled and turned to Rakeem. I felt betrayed but his smile never faltered. I wanted to deck him one for sharing our personal moments. Worse yet, he probably made it so that I'll never get my job back. I shucked off the lion's paws around my shoulders and turned to face him, my back to the bear. I tensed my paw into a fist getting ready to punch Rakeem when the bear took hold of my paw. I wanted to cry. I think I began to. This whole situation was embarrassing, surprising, and infuriating. So much emotion was coursing through me I just quivered powerlessly. There was little I could do with these two large men beside me.

"The tombstone, I could see as a last ditch attempt at getting your job back, even though it is against everything you stood for. However, to have a gay man come to me and plead for your job, telling me you and him had full blown sex? You wouldn't admit to that or lie about it either, so either he's a stranger defaming you, or he's telling the truth. Judging from the tense tendons I feel in your wrist and the tears in your eyes he spoke the truth. Might I say this," he paused. A million thoughts went through my mind. None fit what he said next. "You should bring your boyfriend to our church, both of you are welcome with open arms, Youth Minister Fauce." My paw immediately lost its tension. I was shocked beyond belief. My minster knew I was a homosexual, had sex with a male lion, but he still wanted me around and gave me my job back. I quickly turned around and shook Reverend Tykes's paw vigorously.

"You'll never regret this, Reverend," I spoke like a waterspout, quick and strong. "I'll be the best damn youth minister ever!"

"I know," the bear said. "You've learned the most valuable lesson for your time. You'll be perfect for my congregation's youth now. That is why I'm giving you a modest raise. You need to support this homeless bum now," he waves to Rakeem. "Because I don't think you could kick him out of your life now if you tried." The bear pulled me into a tight bear hug before turning and walking away. Before he was out of earshot he shouted up the hill. "Tomorrow is Sunday, so you better be at work, on time, so don't be up too late with your lion!" I gave him a mock salute but the last part of his comment caused my cheeks to burn with embarrassment and I heard his booming laughter as he turned to walk away. I turned to Rakeem. I still wanted an explanation from him. He knew it too.

"I didn't tell him everything. All he knows is we had sex. Not how, when, or anything else." He put his paws out and I took them in mine. "He knows there is intense love here, though, simply because he saw it in my eyes, and most likely yours too. I didn't share any juicy details, though. I like to have a private personal life too, but I knew, from Randy, that going to Tykes and telling him all you've done and how I know you've changed, he would give you your job back. Randy was always a part of your congregation, as you know."

I felt slightly hurt that I needed to give him sex before he would do this for me, "So I had to have sex with you for you to..." I was interrupted yet again with a finger over my lips. I decided to kiss it lightly. Rakeem smiled at my reaction.

"No. I would have done this for you today anyway. It was about your discussion of money last night. I knew I could convince Reverend Tykes. Even if we didn't have sex, I would have instead used everything you told me as an example of how you changed." I smiled and nodded. One thing still burned the back of my mind.

"Final question," I stated. "How did you know about the tombstone, and that I'd be here. I've only told Skai's mother."

"That's how I found out, his mother."

"You knew Skai!" I shouted. "How? Why did..?"

"Calm down, little foxy. Yes, I hated you for what happened as soon as I knew who you were, from Randy. It was after our first night at the bar. I soon learned you were a moral cesspool. However, I liked our conversation that night, and realized that you were probably just a little scared kit inside and that was attractive. I resolved to help you out. I have a thing for needy people, and Skai and you were some of the neediest I've met in a long time."

"I'm so sorry about Skai," I wrapped my arms around his stomach and back and pulled him close, my head buried in his chest. I started to cry. "I'm so sorry. Thank you for believing that I'm really a good guy. Just screwed up inside."

"I forgive you, little foxy, and I believe you. How could I not? If Skai had not existed, you would have never reckoned with yourself who you really were. And, we would have never met. I love you, now. I realized that I fell for you before I realized it was you who 'stole my bitch'. Nothing you could do would keep me away. I'm yours, forever!"