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My Gym Partner's Bro, Cum-Laude (Part Three)

by Eightane

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Adam wiped a tear; his laugh ended, though the flush didn't leave his freckled cheeks. Two seats to his left, Windsor had also been jovial... But he'd opened the night's pamphlet as well, and read through its more-main sections. His amusement was wounded, and fled; once Adam looked over, he only saw the frown and distress. It was human instinct to try and soothe. "Hey Windsor, the end's near. When your brother gets to speak, it's all done and we'll be back at my house eating Doritos."

In effect, it did nothing more than make Windsor's eyes lift; staring straight ahead, while keeping head down and clasping shut the tiny booklet. "I suppose you've not applied time to counting those with their sheepskins." He referred to the many in robes, still standing tall to the stageside; either laughing or grunting at Jerr, who still burned time for the absent star. Every one of them was mystified, to see Fenton simply wobble back and give up the mike, a look of meditation pasted on his smirk.

Adam answered slow; removed from guard by the randomness. "Um... No, I... Can't say I have." Windsor had his attention. "Why?"

The younger ape looked on Jerr; a sort-of glare sat under his bangs and beanie. "There are three souls overdue to report here. One is on the team astraddle Will, the other I believe to be a familiar of Jerr." Jake broke into the exchange; scratching again, as it worsened beyond his strengths to refrain. "You sayin' when you find one, you'll find the others?"

Windsor's 'yes' came in form of a huff. "And I shan't be retrieving them. It would likely fall to someone, and may heaven shield them against psychological scarring."

For the human boy, any joy was gone. It was quick for his uneasiness to grow past Windsor's. "They would be... Y'know... Tonight, here? "

To hear it from Adam, made Windsor have to analyze... And logic steered him upwards. "Perhaps I negatively sped to conclusion. I place a lean of blame on history... It's unrefined that I deny them the benefit of doubt."

Windsor's scowl softened. Adam's did the same, but not for being pacified. He'd observed Jake lose the embarrassment; and now, watched him stare on his own right side, with what could only be called fascination.

The boy in a tuxedo did the obvious. "Uh... What's with you?"

Jake didn't move his eyes; they kept steady on his forearm. "Wow, weird... Kinda cool..."

"Something on your arm?"

Jake moved a bit; his limb shimmied loosely. "... D'you ever not feel yours?"

"Ehh... If I'm asleep, maybe..." Adam could think of nothing else.

It didn't matter; Jake would've over-noised him anyway, knocking his limp side on the chairback. Of course, it just bore a deeper interest. "Dang, it's like Jell-o... This rocks!" He went on, beating wrist on the polish, testing how no pain could get into him... Windsor's dad blinked on every 'thud'. He, and a handful of those around, used imagination to play out how they'd strangle the obnoxious right-free of him.

It even got to Jerr; leaning on the podium, comfy as a pundit holding a cigar. "And the whole time we said to each oth-... Shit, sorry for my bro up there." He raised his chin, and voice, but kept elbows on the wood. "'Ey yo, couldja rest the oak-drums? "

Jake's eyes doubled in size; the banging gradually slowed to a stop.

"Swell. But we kept sayin', 'When we cut outta here, ain't a yearbook on Earth to hold all the shit we'll revisit. Hell, I am now..." He leaned lower, eyes cracked. "Every room's got a memory. If it ain't mine, it's his, and then it's STILL mine. He could put it so much better..." His eyes followed the back rows; a squirrel and boar, barely dodging pairs of feet as they blew past. "... We're all gonna see..."

To hold an image of Will, his mouth was moistened.

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Half-across the school, Will wet something else entirely.

A pleased, placid sigh escaped him. To stand sturdy at the urinal, pants unzipped and hand around his soft, hanging meat... If Maurice weren't impressed for his size - standing next to him, sharing the view of his leak - he'd have been just for the stance. Anyone could pick up on how Will showed off; even leaning hips into it, both flaunting the relief and what it sped through. The mandrill's stream trickled onto a rubber mat; Will had his hit higher, up the pearl white, splashing back; tiny drops flecked along his fist. Jerr had always well-encouraged exhibitioning; it felt unusual not to have the monkey's help, by aim, or by disposal.

And Maurice wasn't lone-to-peep. Will delighted in watching the older male, seeing small proofs of the contentment, and larger proofs of what he'd maybe try as Roslin had. Primal, their admiration from two of the five unwalled pissers, but less so than the state of dog and lizard. Beyond the apes, Roslin propped himself on a grouted wall, arms and elbows high. He could watch with ease Will's and the teacher's wizz, while Blake sat low, tail on the stained floor, muzzling the fat green tool. Komodo tongue lay outside its mouth, on slow, heavy breaths... Doberman's gums slid a sideways course up the wide receiver's inches. Maurice stared in awe on Will's pissing dick... The ape returned with looks of thrill, refreshment and intent. Tugging himself, shaking it a bit, moving the beam of yellow; toying with Mandrill's arousal.

The gowns lay where best they should; way back at the closet, by the corner and a mop bucket.

Roslin spoke around his own heavy groans. "You two gonna... Ohhfff... Want this when you're done? " Blake looked up to him, sucking the side; whining just for the approval he saw gazing back. "... Slut pup's mouth goes the distance... 'Specially with you, Will, your fuckin' javelin..."

The ape chuckled through a grin; his pipe lost softness, and gained an inch in his playing digits. "If not now, tonight. Jerr won't have us gone without making it a day to record." He looked past his shoulder, and Maurice's. "You're invited."

"Then I'm there." His scalp cooled itself on the tile; Blake took his hardon to the rough, scaled base, loving it as only a ukemale could. Through the ecstacy, it came to him why Will would say anything other than a present-time yes. "... Hope they don't miss you out there... You're not just some guy in the crowd, you're the headliner..." Blake's tongue flicked the split of cock and balls, right on the seam. "Fuuuuck, dog..."

Will's length was quick to show, firming up; as he spoke, it made the last of his leak a whisper on the urinal's mat. "Tell me something I don't love." He ran low on fuel, but Maurice held more; his ex-beverage rinsed the mat as strong as ever. Will played more with himself, until his dick was full-rigid; now more of a stroke, as he felt it throb. "They're in wait... I'm not about to leave them hang..." It finished vaguely; even a wordsmith couldn't always fight with hearing how his teammate was served, or watching an older man's slow pee. Maurice didn't guess his one habit could be seen as scintillating; it was normal for the counselor to lean his face forward, smile and drop a wad of spit into the basin, mixing with his piss. But its edge of manliness, together with what Will already meant to do, had the silverback's eight inches flogging air with hard pulse.

And so the night's star followed his intent. From a fond memory - when he last had Jerr fucked on a urinal, the monkey's bare ass pushed out from a porcelain lip just like this - he'd heard it in his head like it was yesterday. 'Shoulda stuck my hand in... Had your hot piss bathin' my mitt, runnin' down my fingers...'

Maurice was shocked - nicely - to see that quarterback's hand reach over, open up and have his gold run all over it.

Semi-rare that Will groaned so fast, just for thought... But the warmth, and knowing what it was, where it just came forth, he wanted Jerr nearby just to thank for the idea. Maurice didn't quite know where to stare: Will's carnal grin, his huge cut rod, or the football-playing hand that took a shower of manwizz from his own meat. Will wouldn't be the only one to stiffen back up; as he let it all out, saw Will stroking off in his peripheral, his went hard-to-unbending. Will soon learned their good fortune; the mandrill was among those who could still leak while sprung.

The gorilla put a soundtrack to his thoughts. "Niiice, oldtimer... Wet this hand, get it ready..."

Mandrill would've asked what it readied for; Will gave him no time. Before Maurice could even finish, that huge, footballer's hand closed on his cock, and took dual advantage; how he'd made the counselor stiff, and how he gave back with wet flow. Just half an hour since they'd reconnected, in a closet, and already Will had the elder's pecker clutched, stroking off, lubed by his own piss.

"Yeeeahh..." Gorilla's hips edged forward; he pushed into his own hand, gently rubbing Mandrill with the other, having spurts of yellow fling off the counselor's unit, hitting wildly on wall, basin or floor. The middle-aged meat kept stiff as a board; Will's eyes couldn't stray, even as he spoke for Mandrill's ears. "You've been timid a while. Weight on your mind, or something lower...?" He ended with a hum, and it rattled; the joy of warm male piss on every finger, down to his thick wrist.

Maurice heard, and obliged... Stuttering. "I... I was... It's so much..."

"No bother. You don't have to push yourself..." His grip went down the full length of Maurice, as tender as a man of his strength could do. "... I know the repressed gen's way. You open slow... But damn if you don't want it like all of us..."

Will was mostly on the mark... Though for Maurice, it was more than that. "I've just never seen something like..." Will began to follow his gaze; it went all up and down the gorilla, from chest to arms to the whopper in Will's dry hand. "If I remember Jerr, I know why he's a groupie..."

The gorilla's teeth peeked from one side of his grin; given a doorway to boast. "How lucky does HE think himself... What're the odds he'd get a power-packed hoss like me." All was spoken with Will stroking them both... His hand was harder on himself, quick and rough reps; sending storms of pleasure up his spine. For a wall of beef - some practiced, some genetic - going strong was the default, and what carried him fast. His neck rose and eyes shut; it wouldn't take its sweet time. Pre welled on his dickhole; though his eyes left Maurice, his mind stuck true. "Unnggh... And like me ... You wanna bust another..."

"S-so-on-the-ball..." It rather sounded like a single word from Mandrill... His water finally ran out, to a dribble, then a tiny weep down Will's hand.

The football ape toyed more with his mindset. "You see this shit... Height, muscle and dowry. What's it say to you?... " He pumped a shove through his own hand; sent so far it nearly touched the white basin. "Yeah, you know what I am? "

"I do... You're b-..." Maurice's knees twitched; his ponytail shimmied; everything he spoke came in warble. "-Born to shag..."

He saw the widest Will could ever grin... The jock 'rilla thrusted harder in his hand, and yanked on the Mandrill's with power like his own. Maurice yelped, surging waves of ecstacy. Will went on, rub-and-manipulate. "Yeah, dump a quick one. Right here... While I fuckin' scream it out..." He could already feel it; the blast would shake him, just from how Maurice tempted, firming up and pissing down his hand.

Roslin stood to the wall; watching, drooling, groaning with Blake to suck him down. "G-give, Will... Get it out, brah... Shiiit..." Blake whined on his cock; every moment, every sideward plunge, tonguing scaled girth with the owner's hand by his ears.

Mandrill and Komodo stared to Will; all four limbs had spasmed, showing how quick and fierce it swept on him. "Gonna fire... Gonna go, I'm... I'M... OHHH-GODDAAAAMN!!!"

It outdid the closet shot. Maurice almost buckled, just to look and see Will batter the urinal with cream, thick, hot globs. They ran slow, kicking a drool reflex the Mandrill hadn't known he had, while they raced each other down the porcelain; so much Will brought, volleys and roars-on-end, denying how recent he'd released. Maurice's jaw came its closest to hitting the floor; in Will's hand, he took violent strokes, from a jock in mid-mindbreaking-climax. To him, it had just improved... So right for a turf-star stud, so evidently made for action...

He ogled Will's peak to its end; the lightened cranks, dripping spots on the basinlip, pulling inches through his palm. Gorilla's deep whimper, destroyed by his own euphoria; sliding up to a chuckle, then a strong bass groan. He tugged his thick-eight to the head, milking it in full; sighing, while one last drop ran down his middle finger; then turning focus to Maurice, and next to him through Will's eyes, Roslin. A peace had come over Will's countenance; settled, but as roguish as any time hence. It fulfilled him just to listen, while the lizard and Mandrill fought a war for who could court their moment loudest. Roslin wailed, throbbing down Blake's throat... Maurice whooped and whined, his pulse building in Will's wet hand.

A phrase left the gorilla's throat; like impulse, it spilled before he'd even known he thought it. "When we part, you tell Hornbill I said hey. And call me."

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All eyes and the spotlight on Jerr; parents of all shapes and sizes, ranging somewhere from pale-faced shock to low, chuckling whispers in their spouse's ear.

"... Lastly, screw down the backplate 'n' sodder the ends. And that's how y' make a hellforce mulch-bomb. Just don't break in Fort Knox, if y' don't fill a fuckin' trailer with 'em-"

Ponch, low in his seat, could've melted holes through Fenton with his stare; the uncalmable look of 'Why the hell aren't you doing something?'

Fenton held back; this time, it wasn't due to what he kept mum. Just when the monkey's pinache may've hit its crest, out bounded the ape on whom they'd waited, leaving the curtain in billows. Jerr turned; his face lit up, and stayed to Will's quick jog. They met in low-five; it was right around then that Jerr saw the tellate pink eyes.

They stood a quarter-inch apart; Will leaned into monkey's ear. "I owe you, covering my ass. And good work, I only see a few textbook heart attacks out there."

Jerr threw out the option of answer; instead, he had one thing to say. "Better'a kept some for your sidekick." He tapped firmly on Will's lower spine.

The ape reached down past Jerr; his honourable paper was pocketed. "Right, get the grumble aired out. Got something better you can smoke... And it won't smolder." He shocked the monkey, and witnesses, rearing back and giving his bud's shapely ass a brutal spank.

For two seconds, Jerr's breath was drawn out. It hadn't met the mike; three rows alone heard what had taken it. It included Ponch; his grunt and wrinkling pushed him to ignore Maurice, sheepishly claiming the seat he'd left, hoping for no questions.

In the ruckus, Blake and Roslin slid out from the curtain - shoulders stooped in their bleach-smelling gowns - to reach and snag their honors.

Pixiefrog recovered, and Mandrill took his whispered consequences. "That's some treatment you're prescribed. It even brings you back reeking of reefer. And loinflesh."

Maurice kept his eyes straight ahead; the seed of practice through years of traffic stops. "Ponch, it's... Well the story, what happened, it's just such a whopper..." He coughed; it hid the tiniest chuckle.

Pixiefrog was the model of control. "I won't flatten you, don't get excited." He paused, caught more chuckles Mandrill failed to hide, and resumed. "If it is what I think it is, it's still you with two of-age wrecking balls who haven't been our problem for years. Seems you came out of this unscathed."

Maurice had already thought likewise, within his tawdry return trip; but it refreshed him like a breeze to hear Ponch echo that.

The frog sat back, looked up and watched Will's onstage mumbles to Jerr. "Oh, I nearly forgot. I need a volunteer to get the feds off my back, by taking our required monthly drug tests."

Instant payback; he could feel the blood drain from Mandrill's face, before the body even swung around to plead. "Ponch, I swear I'll never duck out and screw around. It's a blood oath, you can even take my keys to the Charger..."

One side of a frog's mouth turned upward, nastily. "Here-on, I expect a more old-fashioned method. Call them and ask-out... Ask them right the hell out of my life, and for that matter, my township."

Maurice oozed back into his chair; it was a gentleman's barter.

On the opposite side of existence, Will ended his low, thick-toned muttering to Jerr. What sneaked up on him - and many in the audience - he'd begun to feel behind him, gingerly drawing the diploma back and out of his hand. His brow fell en-route to see Wolverine, trying to repossess; the large hand had just barely time to grip hard on it, and make Fenton's drunken lesser muscle quite hopeless.

Even so, the principal sloshed with extra courage; and his nose had picked up the dank, illicit stench. He wrapped a handful of Will's gown and put them at eye-level, cheeks as red as Will's gaze. "I don't care what this ends on, you're crazed if you think I'd let an addict up to speak, forget graduate him."

Will had a tiny moment's fraction to panic; just until he processed what he could now whiff. His smile came deservedly. "That's an interesting breath mint, sir. Quite evergreen." He watched Fenton's eyes glaze, and his stomach weely jump; a suppressed hiccup. "I wonder, if we brought in a breathalyzer, which of us would fry it."

The principal went still; his hand unclasped, just to where Will could courteously pull back the paper. For the rest of the night, it would be held like a bungee's lifeline.

Jerr stepped back; Will stepped in, to the podium's loftier side. The mike was clutched; he nearly pulled it off its anchor, just quickly bending it up to him. Jerr stood by; he'd have his ears fully-tuned, and stave off the impulse: a wish he was under that speechstand.

Only five of the near-two-hundred patrons had left, all elderly who'd complained they were feeling sick. The rest, one-by-one, understood they'd finally get what was promised; and of those who more-than-wondered just how Will might compose it, they showed reverance for time-honoured tradition, their support and pride of school.

Will started smooth as syrup; to be out-front-and-center was home to him. His eyes found the face below Windsor's, smiling back through its beard; a serenity bubbled up within him. "Before we resign ourselves to lending me your ears - and presuming I'd be more eloquent on life than the rest of you - I will thank the rest of you. I can't speak for what Fenton may've said-..." He whipped around from the neck-down, keeping lips to the mike but putting eyes on a self-contained-yet-unsteady wolverine. "-... But at the time I penned this, I could doubt you'd hear him grateful for your work. Not with him, or the board, or some shoveled dirt in the community, but what you do behind the scenes of family. Every honouree has someone who reared them and sacrificed, just to make them worth a stand tonight. They've been recognized, and in turn we remind you what we'd never be apart from you."

By now, there'd be no exception; every face, giraffe to hawk to platypus, rode the sound what emerged from the microphone.

Will held an index finger vertical. "It took one full week to compile what I say tonight... The first six of those days were the first paragraph. You don't pledge to be honest or in-depth on the school experience. It grows so natural, the peaks and valleys, being constantly driven to embolden and reforge yourself. It's life, not through how it determines your future, but enables it."

Even Fenton, down to the last in fighting teeters, somewhat sobered.

"Of course, it's not without the catch... Ten books a day, more than a decade, pretty heavy as catches go."

He'd worn smarminess; it showed as well on five of the more athletic-minded graduates, jostling or holding high a fist.

"In the lower times, you set to asking yourself where's the light at the end. In the higher times..." He maintained composure, just barely. "... You still look forward, chomping at the bit to take what's been put into you and apply it."

Fifteen rows back, the three boys were truly spellbound. Adam turned to pose a phrase at Windsor; he leaned up to see past Jake's distending torso. "Dang... He could be an infomercial guy. I'm actually caring what he says."

Windsor sat lazily, unenthused; his fingers crossed into each other, and slowly tapped. "It's great aid to him that he tells you what's welcome to hear. I'd rather think him more at-home as a senator." The pause he inserted left room to shed more patience. "His antics thusly reflect."

Adam shot back; his tone was rare and stern. "You always get like this. Could you maybe have now be the one night where you treat him like a brother? 'Cuz I just might be sick of it."

Windsor had no response. The next few moments were spent with his eyes dipping, idly 'looking past' his hands, mind wandering.

Jake's arm went up; he pointed down to beside the podium. "Hey, check Jerr out..." He wheezed, airways tightened. "One thing on his mind." It ended with ingratiating smile.

And it was true; Jerr stood to the right of Will, not-so-sneakily taking an eyeful. It was too overt to even laugh over...

... Adam was in the mood for such honesty. "Yeah, we've all seen. What about it?"

Jake's brightness took a nosedive; his smile caved on itself. "Nothin'. I just thought if Windsor had words for his bro, I could-" He chose not to finish, and looked off with a sigh... It rattled like a dying foghorn. "I got a mind to walk out and leave you spoiled sports behind. You're just lucky my legs are numb."

Will, with his baritone amplified, overboomed the mutters. "How many of you, the guardians and backers of this Class, would reminisce about your own fledgling years, and find time has made the hassle and gloom a mite fuzzier. You hold to the better memories; it's a shelter from bitterness. But as I see it, it can do the asset of scrutiny an ugly disservice."

An audience, captively still.

"You come to realize - after all the lessons, the books, the exams, are so much litter in your brainpan - what counts. It's not test scores that define your experience, or the worth of your time here... As any head of a suffering school would agree."

Fenton ignored the slam; or the agreeing chuckles of half the auditorium.

"It's to what extent you acknowledge how it changes you, molds you to a shape that can fit the outside world. As you move into the vastness, the uncertainty of grown life, careers, family or beyond, the world will test that shape. It's here you gain elasticity, so life can stretch you, and refine you, without tearing or tattering."

Now, his professionality waned; he couldn't quit the grin, coming onto the point he most enjoyed. "And in truth, you shouldn't ride the straight and narrow. Setting limits, stressing the flow of your behaviour, holding standards for yourself as if to never court wrongdoing. Like you expect you'd always dodge trouble... As if it's even in your means, or anyone's, to avoid ever falling in traps. Go out. Make mischief, sow your wild oats. Live before life drops you in a slot, to produce and die. Before professional ages cut you into a paper doll... Roll in a garden, stem the rose. If nothing else, you'll be the doll with the most admirable scent."

In dead calm, the parents of Diane Fossey High took all to heart. None would look more gratified, or proud, than the father in the dinner coat.

Will made his mark. Just one thing remained in him to say, and so he leaned into the mike, more freely-swaggering. "Oh, and go Colts."

He balled a fist, jabbed the mike to its original height and stepped back as if 'dropping' it. The crowd in robes went wild. Jerr loosely shook his head, glad and approving; they met in a heartful low-five, switching to a long, firm clutch of each other's hand.

For the night's first time, Windsor's smile was honest. His finger went to his lower lip; Adam looked over just soon enough to observe, and rashly smile. The younger ape put down his surge of pride, to see Will leap off the stage, up the aisle; by the time Will could stomp up, eyes twinkling behind redness, Windsor's facade was back in full.

"Well..." The elder stated, with Adam and Jake far-more amiable than his own flesh and blood. "... You're the bard. What's your take on it?"

Though put-out from many sources, Windsor couldn't argue with the weight of this request. His detachment mildened to a simple lack of smile. "The pacing was egregious. You jumped a wide chasm to connect your thoughts, it cast a shade on what you even meant to say through the entirety-"

In a single moment, Adam, Jake and Windsor lifted their gaze. The eldest gorilla struck their awe, standing, adjusting his jacket and peering down to one in particular: the one most like him, save for the beard. "I'd recommend you leave that seat. You know who's worked his tail off for tonight, and it's not me. Climb out of yourself and give him a hug."

In two sentences, Windsor was picked apart. His lips pursed tight, eyes went to the floor, and he did as ordered. Jake warbled an 'AWWWW ' to see the brothers embrace; though it evoked a sparrow with Tourette's, and put a new, shorter focus to Windsor's negativity.

Will ended with a pat to Windsor's shoulder. "So I'll be in your hair a smidge more, just a while. You still blank for what to do until I leave for State?"

Their father interceded. "If he won't answer, there's always work around the house." Will's chest got a friendly slug. "These hands drive an L.L.C. all day, they can't be tearing and refitting shingles."

Will scoffed, chuckling. "That's how it is, flog a hand that's steered for the pro's? You're a peach, pop, but look elsewhere."

They shared a hug of their own... Even one such as Jake saw their bond with misting eyes.

His brother watched all from the stage, somehow serene. The pride Jerr felt was barely lower than family's, though he gave them their space. His mind shot a flurry of directions, having little to do with graduation. Admiring Will's happiness, along with height and build; musing on the window they'd have, from now to the fall, and how fruitful it could be. And then...

... It crashed down on him.

His neck went clammy, mouth dry, pupils receding. They'd both been absent a good part of Fenton's intro. When Will had shown, he found his certificate on the desktop, where it was put for him alone.

In a flash, Jerr leapt to the podium; shuffling papers, speech notes, everything short of ripping up the dustcover; only three other diplomas, for a squirrel, boar and kangaroo; the former two running rings around the chamber. All the while, with him scrambling and sweating, Fenton ambled up behind.

It only took Jerr's tail brushing the principal's pant leg, for the monkey to do a 180 and stare him down. "Where."

Fenton took his one shining chance, to say nothing.

Jerr stepped right to his face. He curled upper lip; the 'bite' from gin was debilitating. "Dude, I get it, I missed my name. I'm here, the night's still goin', let the shit slide."

The snockered principal reached up; not to put space between them, but to taunt, fanning out his collar. "Lateness is fine. You weren't called."

Though the crowd was spared their talking, how it looked was hard to mistake. Especially once Will could gaze back, just to check on his better half, and have the same, gut-churning realization. He started down, eyes blazing; his dad's hand touched his elbow, but couldn't stop him, only slowed. If the gesture had any positive impact, would remain to be seen.

Jerr had no pause to give Wolverine... The lanky male cared nothing for their roles, peppering the principal's snout with spittle. "Alright, you know my GPA, what the FUCK, man!?"

Better judgement was impossible; he put up both hands and shoved violently. Two-hundred parents gasped, to watch the principal fall hard on his back. Adam squeaked; Jake went white under his fur, and buried a swelled face in swelling hand.

But Wolverine got up laughing; loud, and with such clear conviction, that neither Will, nor Mandrill and Pixiefrog, could run up on stage without freezing above him in confusion. They surrounded the pair, rather shielding the view; but the groans and grumbles from the seats were ignored.

Wolverine went on as if alone, with only he and the monkey's shattered dreams to hear him out. "I do know, and by rights your average would win a diploma..." Just as he stood, tottering and woozy, he shoved a hand in his pocket, rustling paper and pulling it forth. Will, thinking more and more on how nothing could warrant this, loomed over Fenton near as close as his fuckbud; the wolverine hummed on, unfettered. "... But let's skim some fine print, if you're up to it. Just the damning snips."

He rolled a poof of air, clearing his throat; the stench curled hair in Will's nose. In a way incongruent with his condition, he skimmed down the page with graceful eloquence; rather like he'd practiced. "Case 302, unapproved use of lab chemicals for homemade explosives. You recall the boulder out front, painted school colours. God rest its pulverized shards." His glare burned into Jerr; moreso, when the monkey returned a smirk. He impatiently continued. "Case 366, refurbishing said boulder as an assortment of sand-art, you exchanged for personal favours with the student bodies- A'hem, body..."

The audience blurbed with giggles. Even Will, support-aside, mugged a bit for the reminder of artistic expressions.

Fenton would seem to lose the mirth by which he'd started, brow wrinkling. "Case 420, that's self-explanatory... Case 471, engaging in unscrupulous actions with faculty... Oh, pardon me. That's case 471, 489, 512, 543, 598, 620..." He lowered the paper; by which, his arms went limp. "It goes on a few more paragraphs. In numerical form."

He menaced Jerr, and was menaced back; by a lofty ape with arms akimbo, two skeptics in the form of frog and mandrill, and the loose-standing monkey muse he'd hoped to break. The closest Jerr would come to shame, was to turn his head slightly and cackle; then, gesticulating arm-swoops, he defended. "I get around. You know it, they know it, what's the deal in bitchin' here?" It was partly a question, more of a statement.

Jerr, Will, Ponch and Maurice, watched Fenton's mouth lift either corner, cathartically. Excepting his drunkenness, it looked like a rock-star move, how he reached out and snatched the mike without so much as an errant glance. "You could have Steve Jobs' accolades, and it'd mean squat piled up against the lot. I waited month after month, therapy sessions-on-end for this. At last it comes, in front of half the county..." He leaned in; barely a thumb could fit between his turgid brown eyes, and Jerr's blue. "You're not held back. You're expelled."

Outwardly, the monkey showed no reaction. Inside, down deep within him, his diaphragm contracted; verbally punched in the gut. Will shared his stillness; the way his jaw dropped open, rattling a wheeze of upheaval, told all. And those who so recently stood by him - his fellow principal, and a valued counsel - stood themselves reeling and unguarded.

The audience was a graveyard; discounting a breeze, or flowers, or anything else to de-edge the eerie lifelessness. Two young boys, human and gorilla, gazed in shock to each other. The monkey between them - fighting all that had worsened through the night - gripped the arms of his chair, and pushed to free his hips of their squeezed-in poise. Jake ambled out, five times wobblier than Fenton, clouded by rage and wooziness. Windsor reached out too late; the young monkey ducked past him, and put himself to the aisle, starting downward, hiking up his shirtsleeves. But where the youngest Silverback failed, the oldest succeeded... At the perfect moment, Jake's powerwalk was ended, by a huge, dark hand on his scalp, bearing down well-past his hat to arrest all motion. Even so, Jake looked up seeing red, his lip twitching to Will's father...

... The bearded ape calmly intoned. "Their fate is their fight."

Only something so simple could suck all the wind from Jake's sails. He calmed, though alert; still tested by allergy, he leaned on Mr. Silverback's haunch; the patriarch made a mental note to have his suit dry-cleaned twice.

None of this made a difference to Fenton, had he even seen it, with two adversaries blocking his view. Though the happiness faded, the moral 'high' enveloped him, eyes still threatening Jerr's. "No need to look so glum, you're on-track to progress. No one builds more character than to do all that work for shit."

He had nothing snappy to end on; nor would he need it. The ruin was done: of Jerr's mood, of his night, of his future. Wolverine fed on it, like the first sweet gulp of a sundae. And the cherry on top, were the faces... Will looked ready to stab him, Jerr could well have drawn forward and chewed off his face, and the other pair might even stand back and permit them.

As it happened, thing were simpler. Just Will's hand, slowly, near-mathematically extending, entreating on the space of Fenton's neck. It clamped on his windpipe; at last, the peace left his face, at the feel of growing pressure. Jerr didn't give an inch, but watched the fear come over Fenton - what he felt was a shred of justice - as Will acted for him. The gorilla spoke as well, what they would agree on. "Bad form, dickwad. You'll want to cancel the lunacy, while you can still breathe."

Horrified gasps had been rising; a few leapt to screams. A handful of students sifted through their blob of blue gowns to sprint over. If nothing changed, the principal would find himself taking what was threatened to 'roo, earlier. Will's strength was made known, forbidding the pull of Mandrill, one of his teammates and even Ingrid's older sister; the few who could stop him weren't close enough.

It didn't take a greater force to save the night. It took a single voice.

A willowy shout, from a whooping crane in the second row. He'd shot to stand on his harpstring-legs, and the loud appeal hit Will's ear like a sonic boom. His arm froze; the hand relaxed; those who'd fought to stop him retreated. Half the crowd, and all on stage, looked to the school's honourable drama teacher. Whether out of habit, or panic, he reached up and tossed his red-striped scarf to a tighter loop on his shoulders, taking in a breath under his cashmere coat. "I... I can't say I know Jared's feelings. But I know violence puts nothing to rest." He looked desperately to Fenton; but what started as a peek of mercy, became a lowering look of truth. "But at the same time... I know what's fair wage for hard work. And if my opinion matters, I wouldn't cast him out for some misconduct." His meeker side came clearer; looking to the floor, unwilling to much more. "You may not have put faith in Will's word, tonight, but... I did."

If anything, Fenton's mouth went drier now than for the fright of Will's hand; as it stayed, past when the stork sat quietly down, and Ponch's face swung from bird to wolverine, and repeated. Jerr's shock was compromised, only by a single, gutteral chuckle, still in gaping disbelief. All else were dead-silent...

... Until Fenton could gather himself, and go purple in his cheeks, addressing his under. "YOU WOULD SCREEN THIS POX ON ALL OF US, BY HIS FRIEND!!? THEY'RE CUT FROM THE SAME CLOTH, HE'S HARDLY BETTER-"

What Fenton didn't count on, was that by speaking up, the crane had marshalled a spirit in the room; to cut off his own boss, even now, became easier... If not for him, then for the stout, stocky elk in a blue tee. Coach Reynolds, wearing stains from burger grease and hot dogs he'd nosh by-the-bucket on the football field. "-Buddy, I'mma stop you right there. You don't bring Will into this... Hell, you don't bring either one. It ain't partiality, it's that we all know how they do in the vitals. Where I come from, A's and B's mean hand 'im the goddamn paper."

Will and Jerr watched him sidle, controlled but heavily buckling to his seat. Betraying the moment, the pair thought their first of relevant, hotter memories, the first time in five full minutes; a mutual record.

Fenton had no time to answer. It was stolen away by the crane, who stood again, now steadier in his high, dainty voice. "I'd have to say, with all due respect I'm disappointed. A decision so drastic isn't one to just blindside an individual, where he's most exposed to peers. Paraphrasing our valedictorian, bad form indeed."

He remained upright, and was joined by a tall condor five seats left of him, in square glasses and bolo sweater: Mr. Sarrington, math instructor, and currently a sympathizer. "We're all in the same boat, Fenton, I can tell you right now. We've had the same time to see who commits, and who doesn't. Would I even need to say where he fits in."

Fenton broke in, a calmer-yet-jaw-gritting interruption. "Yerr ass wasn't asked..."

To the very left of the audience - outside of the seating, secure in his metal wheelchair - A snow leopard rolled down the access ramp, toward the stage. Fenton was addressed by the school's head of psych; Dr. Billsei's disgruntled tones kept dead-level as he rolled in ever-closer. "I want an apology. For wasting our time, as leaders, and having us think the goofs he'd inflict outside of class were leveled by performance." He went on unusually simple, for his field. "If it's futility you want, in how effort counts for nothing, send him to DeVry..." He ceased rolling next to the stagerise; before the chair came to halt, his hands crossed over each other, judgingly. "... We give too much as a collective to be slighted like this."

This, more than all before it, took the breath from Fenton. Reducing him to speechless, while the whooping crane made a third contribution. "And for who's up there with you, Will's not angelic himself. Are you giving him a 'bye' for his football credentials?"

Coach Reynolds' arm went out to point aggressively: not to the crane, but to Fenton. "I'm with Stickman, there. Even I'd have something to say for that, next time I'm at the deli with the board chairman."

Wolverine exploded in goosebumps; as he sobered, slow but sure, the notion cleared. Outgunned, five-to-one, and either too sloshed or too unprepared to tamp them down. It wouldn't keep him from stammering; it would, however, see that nothing he could say would solidify. "You're all unwitting... No right, no room to tell me... If you even knew what I deal with-"

A light switched on in his head. Five feet before him, as one of two unspoken 'neutrals', was the other man in his position. His brow shaped itself to meek, begging appeal, as he looked to Poncharello. "Tell them, Ponch. You had 'em as younger imps, the same hell. Just say what I know you're thinking."

The bare truth, was Fenton had nothing nailed, right down to what Ponch would analyze. But the frog, with all eyes on him, felt the need... The chance to finally do what he'd come for that night, and offer help. Only now, it would intercede for a deserving party.

He blinked once - stiffly, to focus his mind - and began the calmest query. "Fenton... Do you intend this as admission that you've kept Jared in school, using state-funded resource, all while you had it up your sleeve to fail him on the closing moments?"

He ignored the sweat forming on his scalp. And Jerr's shining smile from the side of his vision. And Fenton's limburger-cheese shocksnarl right in line-of-sight.

He removed his glasses and wiped them on his jacket; the point was expanded. "I'd be concerned what they say about this. And I don't refer to the board... I mean every taxpaying parent in this chamber." He put the specs back on, just in time for every face in earshot to alight with epiphany.

Fifty-five words were all it took, to turn every soul around Fenton against him. The Wolverine's face was white as snow; his conscience wore the total opposite. Somewhere deep down, he feared he'd not make it out of there alive. More consciously, and more reasonably, he saw himself in-line to reverse the one decision he'd never want to. With Will, Jerr, Ponch, Maurice, and innumerable others in scrutiny, he had no alternative.

The rage boiled away, shallower, but hotter. He swiveled to the left, facing Jerr, incensed by the monkey's smirking headtilt, the show of easy victory. If he'd lost, he still had one thing the infamed should know. "You're the reason I fell off the wagon... Just-fucking-YOU!! " He pulled the flask from his pocket; it was thrown to the ground and shattered, many pieces barely missing toes and ankles, but barely affecting an already-shocked company. "Even that won't pull past the stress."

For a split-second, Jerr looked as if he might have actual pity on the principal. But it was sheathed in a certain doubt, which came out in the monkey's biting answer. "Dude... You couldn'ta took up Yoga?"

It was 50% said as a slam, and taken 200% as one. Wolverine's condition overloaded him; on the drop of a pin, he reared back, and pulled a right cross, meaning to lay the monkey out.

Nimble reflex had the fist breeze by Jerr's jawline.

A great-many parents shouted, either "Stop", or "No", or "What the hell ". Jake had no idea what to think, either fear or glee, as he watched Jerr duck another punch, far above the shitfaced Fenton's league. He belted out a "Yeah" in brotherly support; it came as a burping squeal through his narrowed windpipe.

Adam, Windsor and the bearded gorilla pa rubbed eyes in unison.

Maurice, still blazed and ever-peacible, retreated. But Ponch didn't share that decision; and neither did Maurice share his background, years of knowing Fenton, professional and personal. The three-inch-high frog had seen enough; before Fenton could more-sign his own pink slip, putting more blows past Jerr's face and just maybe eventually connecting, someone had to act.

He jumped up, and croaked the only thing he knew to say. "For the love of Christ, STOP!!"

Timing. Will was conscious of the Wolverine's hopelessness, but goddamn if he'd let someone even try and slug his wingman. Twice as fast as Wolverine had wound up his first punch, the football ape exploded to valiance, and a left hook. Twice the speed, ten times the power, and before anyone could've processed that Pixiefrog would leap up in the way.

It caught the tiny man like a baseball in the majors. The frog sailed up, crosseyed, fifteen feet above and double the distance. It was a sickly *THUD* when he pounded the wall, and left its plaster a nice, cracking divet. It was on the laws of momentum... The return trip was lower, and five feet from Will, he hit the stagefloor. Waxed hardwood made his belly-down slide a hair easier, as did his total limpness. When all was done, there lay the role model for Adam, Jake and Windsor, spine-up, unconscious and snoring next to the shards of his former spectacles... Quite impressively with Maurice's toe jammed up his nose.

Fenton looked to Jerr. Jerr looked to Ponch, then to Maurice. All three, around the same time, fixed on Will.

One could hear the building's A/C turn off.

Though the audience was mortified - and some of its female fraction queasy - Most could observe the change on Fenton's face. Rage, and what fueled it, had been put by the wayside; for so doing, it invited him to piece together things in his head. The teachers, the past, and how it all summed up. What it meant for logic... What it meant for him.

His head dipped, towards Jerr. The smile was near-invisible; just a tiny bit of his mouth, conveying innumerable words. How he vocalized was a fair bit simpler. "I never liked him anyway."

Things were too morose for a laugh; but Jerr, and Will, turned giddy in their stomachs. The principal - for however long he may remain one - gave closure. "Drop by my office tomorrow. We'll get you your voucher. Freedom for the both of us."

Jerr's face was peerless, the blend of glad, disbelieving and relieved. His head shook, and resisiting the urge to hug Fenton for his turn-around, hugged a taller ape instead... Long, hard, and as cool as one could manage in such flooding joy. Maurice - with a new perspective, thanks to earlier diversions - put a silent coo to his thoughts, admiring past their swagger what he knew went on beneath.

Fifty feet distant and above, Jake was frozen stiff, processing with an air-deprived brain what he'd just watched. Adam's hand jogged him a bit, patting his back, weakly and with all the reserve of a weirded-out kid. "It worked out, huh? Your folks should be kinda proud. I think."

Jake ignored the spoken sentiment; for being too busy launching both arms in the air, holding fists high. "YEAAHHH!! Spidermonkey represeeent! " He would've done a dance; his limbs, and their weight of edema, had him rethink it.

Windsor's monotone hit their ears, as he stepped down between them. "It appears fate would smile on your sibling, in the manner things developed." He paused, studied Ponch, and empathetically rubbed his chin. "As it's convinced me to abstain from sassing mine for the duration."

At the moment, only Jake could bubble over more than his brother, his egg-shaped state notwithstanding. "Who's gonna party in the house to-niiiite, Jake's gonna get-down and do it riiiiight..."

Human and gorilla boys mimed a similar 'Ugh '... Then recoiled, as a blunt device sailed through the air. It would've clocked Windsor in the nose, had Jake not reached up and somehow caught it with a blobbed-out arm. It was sleek and blue, and took all their attention off the squirrely male, speeding by them and cackling while his green hair tousled in motion.

Jake turned the square item over and around, greedily inspecting. "Oh cool, a Droid!" He leered on the screen and the polish. "I wonder whose it-"

He could say no more, with Mayers upon him, body-checking him into the aisle steps. The boar's head and arms went down, next to a scared-shitless Adam and Windsor. Will's burly teammate rose back up with his possession in hand, or in all but his extended-middle-finger. Jake, unmoving, stayed down.

Adam's eyes slowly un-widened; he would speak at Windsor, whether Jake could hear or not. "Let's beat it. The cab's kinda cheap, I wanna swing by Steak 'n' Shake before we drop him at the hospital."

****************************************************************************************************************

Diane Fossey's halls lay dim; all parents had left for home, with their merry new adults in tow, along with some vexing mental baggage. Little more than the occassional gnat was present, flitting through the moonlit corridors... 'Little' being that pair, holed up by a recess in the wall for a door. Will and Jerr faced each other, leaning to their chosen side of the two-foot-wide egress. Cutting into the silence with their breath; taking in the sight they'd both appreciate, with Will's jeans unzipped and the monkey's missing. It was all too easy to craft an excuse; manufacture the lie that they'd stay behind, catch up with their friends or clans, once they could help clean up.

Had they been honest, it would've been to say they'd make their own farewell to the school: chuckling and leering in the dark, with hands on each other's member, in strokes, rubs and whispers.

Jerr's palm slid gently, like fluid up his bud's rigid eight. Two fingers pressed the underside; his thumb traced the shape of Will's cut scar, light massaging, heavy sighs from his hungering maw. "Fuuuuck..." It was a rush, just to watch the gritted sneer; feel the ape thrust into his mitt; know what he did for his dickbud.

For all Jerr had in the way of talent, Will had equal experience. Though the pleasure was deep, he still arched his chin, and enlivened the debate they'd launched. "Here's a Mulligan: Donkey Kong."

The reply was gutteral. "Fuck, that's a yeah. Have him hold me on a tree, blow it up downtown, I could yank that tie and pull him in for deep tongue. Four outta five."

His pitch was uneven - not for the sentiment, or even for Will's mighty hand, cloaked on his uncut choad, grinding and greasing it in its own pre - but for the knowledge, the bleary sight of how far his hand would cruise, and still clutch the gorilla's throbbing manhood. Low, rough rasps, solid in Will's throat, while Jerr felt his pulse where it most tempted him... The only torture was not to slip down and suck, but instead take his turn with their topic. "If size didn't matter... Like if he ain't forty feet high... Grape Ape."

The surly simian sputtered; an honest laugh, over top of lust. "Worth scrutiny. Got the voice and the beef, but stupid is as stupid does. Dread what I'd hear in bed. Two, if I'm charitable." His chin dipped; wearing sinister smile, he dug into the stroke of Jerr's pole; watching the monkey's eyes shut, his head lean back on the bricks, and the five-star mouth widen to caterwaul.

From there, Jerr indulged a ten-second truce; leaning forward, staring down, watching Will love on his unit just as lush as he'd returned. Their competing spread to groans; who made more genuine sound, to prove how well they served one another. Jerr felt those green eyes on him; he was spurred to fight the yielding, and talk through the bliss. "I'mma leap-frog your turn... I got a good one..."

Will mugged back, a raunchy curiosity. He waited six full seconds, to witness Jerr clam up; while the monkey stared on his sack, dangling out his fly, hung low and gently bouncing. He drew a breath under his pecs; teased Jerr by tightening his groin muscles, having his tool go hard as what they leaned on, choosing the cruellest moment. "Then out with it."

Jerr chortled... It was no secret how the ape played on his craving. "Fuckin' bastard..." No deviance would mask the affection he sent; his tongue pushed to leave its fence of lips. He mustered all to concentrate. "Diddy Kong... In 10 years."

He felt his arm pulled, towards Will as the ape raised up, taking in a breath of deep thought. It would seem there was the slightest hesitation... But it vacated fast. "Well strict-on how he'd act, once he's 18 and prime... Fuck. Five of five."

It satisfied the monkey; or his question, if not what made him ache to fall on bended knee. His voice went soft. "I knew it'd be his grown charms, man, you ain't gotta qualify it. You know I get'chou."

Will repaid with a smooth nod, distillation of hearty thoughts. They set another unspoken break; to lean forward at the hips, invite each other to dote on their hot, prime rods. Both had a moan, for every time the other would slide their hand up those inches; both, at times, would peer up and make eye contact, smitten to confirm it, the faces and minds to which their ecstacy and bond were connected.

By now, even Will was troubled to fight his own abandon... He tipped up his chin, and stared on Jerr hard. "Alright, you put me down that road, so take this one..." His grin thinned and tightened. "... Curious George in 10 years."

"Awww man..." Even the reaction was to speak of its challenge, and ponder. He thought hard... But it would require less distraction than the pulsing, streamlined shape of Will's endowment. Jerr tilted from the neck up; his tongue lashed up and down, outside of any conscious restraint. "Shiiiiit, hard to think with that rod scorchin' my hand..." The heat from Will's monster, on his palm, never cooling. He tore away his gaze, just for Will to see his look of understanding. "You ripped some woof a wide one. Don't even play."

Around Jerr, the 'rilla's ego was forbidden to falter. As he drummed the memories - past by barely an hour - he picked the ever-nice route of a tease. "I plead the fifth."

Jerr might've used his other hand to smack the ape's haunch; instead, all he had the will to bring it out for, was to wrap it beyond his acting hand, tighten both, and ease Will into a two-fisted stroke. The ape's lips split off at one corner... Murmurs of heaven, with Jerr switching off from two hands on the pole, to one in rough jerk while the other tugged and rolled his jock balls.

The monkey had no more reason not to leave the wall, and step up to his fuckbud, breathing at the height of beefed chest. Will's breath rose with Jerr's; he had a task of his own for an empty hand, and that which didn't rub the monkey's package - slipping its head in and out of thick foreskin - went to lift his own shirt. Between Jerr's chest and flat stomach, the tight, low curve of Will's paunch drove their fur together, bare hide and a heat to nearly challenge what Jerr felt in the football player's trophy. Jerr gazed up, Will gazed down; the smell of each other's breath topped off their moment, and pulled the words right from Jerr's throat. "Yeeahh... Dude'jur dick's never this hot... If it ain't been beatin' some manhole... Fuckin' whipped some hot ass that bent 'n' took..."

Will's eyes could lay no narrower; it only magnified their twinkle. "Like I can't smell the nuts on your breath..." He thrusted into Jerr's stroking; in turn, the monk's hands gave promise they weren't going anywhere. "... All it takes for you to drop and suck a pipe, is to get on the taste of mine. Fuckin' wet-tipped and sweaty... Wetter when you down that shit. Make your throat my cumsleeve." His own stomach drew in, just from Jerr's gasping on his words. "Give you lease on this fuckin' huge gusher."

They saw naught but each other, eyes adjusted for the darkness. Jerr dwelled only on the whopper, strong and big as hell, pumping throbs in the dote of his grip. Will thought of two things: how it felt, shoving into Blake and Maurice, making their night unforgettable... And how even in the tightest, eager hole, nothing touched the glory of when Jerr was enabled to worship. The monkey's fingers praised him independently; jerking off the toy with which Jerr would never part, never tire. He knew they'd gotten off the rails; it was still his nature to add one last fitting morsel. "Yehh, whisk down that alpha stick... Right where I fuckin' owned those cracks..."

Jerr's body wicked shivers... Will's hand was wet, every inch above the wrist, while the monkey's pre just poured into it. So hard to proceed, as they had been. But Will, for the price of his intellect, sought closure. "Time's running."

The monkey's brow went up; a short two seconds, for what they'd discussed to be redrawn. The monkey's chuckle, deep enough to tremble his cap, emerged from raw joy. "Right... Well slap some heavy street cred on the bastard... Like, some piercin's, loose threads, li'l sway to match..." He pictured it, on the aged-for-argument figure... Then pictured something else, and his smile poked higher. "Yeah, I'd wanna taste. But gimme MY choice... And it's the man with the yellow hat. Dress that fucker down."

Will's laugh reached the level of echo. "You and your posh for humans."

Jerr, working hard but back in a mindset, shot a quick response. "Can't beat the elite, man. Evolution did its finest..." As he trailed off, there was less desire not to stare... Not on the impressive ape he fondled, so much as in the two pools of green, reflecting light glow. Jerr's face, and Will's, were truly hooked. "... Or second to it. Got the best right here in my hand. And my life."

The gorilla grew fonder. However much Jerr's eyes would stray, ogling his tool, or chest, or anything else that proved the fixation - the kinship, their way of life - they'd come right back to his emerald orbs. For once, the most rare of Jerr's tenderness, gurgled from his throat; as if the monkey wrapped around him, in a way beyond bodily. "Damn, Will... Ain't a better way to weave it... I fuckin' love you, man..."

Will's jaw was made to drop an inch. The oft-loquacious primate took his time, sinking it in, then fostering a comeback. "I'd say it back, but what if someone overhears. They'd think we're gay."

They leaned apart, in sniggers. Spidermonkey's went deepest; at the same time, he wasn't about to let them jump ship. While his grin surged, he kept eyes on the action, bringing pelvis together with the ape. "Get a load o' this... In a minute, we're collegebound. Hittin' up movers and shakers, straight-killin' class, makin' every wild-ass party... Takin' a wizz on their statue, 'cuz we can..."

Will won over the height of Jerr's snicker. "There's no hope for you." He'd seen on-instant how close they'd come at the loins; To disspell how cold the quip may've sounded, to present love in best form, his shirt-lifting hand dove under Jerr's legs, for tickling the skin of his gooch. The monkey whined out, one quick "Ohhman", and they rubbed at the skin; firm, hot flesh of their rods.

Footsteps from behind were silent; blame Fenton's shoes, not his crookedness. For a while, he was just as unwise of them in the hallway, as they of him.

Jerr's tone dropped... It was forced through half-gnashed teeth, flayed by consuming arousal. "Know how you start a fiiire, man... Rub two sticks together..." He slid on Will's head, foreskin-to-scar, his mouth watering.

At that very point, in the same flutter of a gnat's wings, they would hear him and whip around startled; while he looked up from his hands, away from the incident reports he carried. Seeing them - and seeing them - restated the urgency of what he'd have to fill out and ship upstate. Just for the past three hours; just for the last he'd ever ache from them, in the unpreferred way. He reeled, covered eyes while they pulled shirts down over themselves, rather calmly. Clearing his throat, and hacking, he began. "Well, if you close the blinds on your status quo for a second, I'm glad to catch you here, after hours... 'Til I rot 'n' die, only time I'll ever say that." He walked up, fighting awkwardness, and pulled a small third of his stack out, handed towards Jerr. It was taken, and through knowing what it was, monkey showed Wolverine one faint vestige of respect. Their ex-principal, newly christened, spoke level. "It's fully-licensed, just a temp I could print out from web tools. You'll get the real McCoy in a week, give or take service quality from FedEx. If they screw you, you're on your own."

Jerr held onto it; it wouldn't find his pocket, with how valued it was in his palm. Their guard receded, as with the 'face' of their pants. The monkey, leaning back just slight enough to see in his backwards cap, had a thought. "Maybe we'd own up to the shit we slung you. Hell, I ain't wantin' to clean after me." He, at the behest of Will's hand slapping onto his shoulder, kept the cheap entendre at bay.

Fenton's nod was about the greatest dignity he knew. It gave to another cough, sharp and biting. "And maybe I hold you up to more than bad days and errs. I've heard that 'Yolo' crap... After a while, it can't sound so wrong."

Will, from above, watched him slowly turn, and proceed where he was headed. Jerr's head was too busy reading over the finer words of his tentative ticket out, to greater things - 'We hereby certify' and 'of sound body and exceptional mind', in turn - that is, to the single breath before Fenton could step very far. He called out, in haste. "Yo, watch your step right aro-"

Near the end, sounds of a squish overrode him. Wolverine's shoe, down most of the tread, had discovered the scene of Jerr's negotiating... Wheresoever it was unfit for the monkey to lick it gone. He looked down, with sinking feeling, to see the bubbling white below his instep.

An owl passed by the window, hooting, as Wolverine reddened, Jerr smirked, they met eyes, and monkey saw the cowl of hellish rage.

But time had steeped Fenton, if only to filter his blood. What he wanted to do, crack the brodude's skull with a steel vice, was trimmed to a stiff, resigned glare, plus clearing his throat.

Jerr, nonmeek, had one appeal. "Hit that w' polish. Send me the bill."

Wolverine ignored; of him, it was kingly. "I just hope when you arrive at campus, they sit you where you belong." He began strolling on; they wouldn't get the best of him, nor would the tickle in his throat. "Stuffed and mounted in the lobby."

He could've gone on, knowing how they'd all be in a better place, where he sent them... And smirking on the alternate analysis of same. Before that could coat him, slip over the gears of his psyche, he was given Jerr's howl. "I'm down with that. Kinda partial to both those words."

For every squish down the corridor, he prayed for the dean at State U. And the professors. And the president.

And his wallet and lungs, casualties of how he'd quit the drink again. He weighed the weekly cost of a pack a day.

Whaddya know, it ends here.