FSE

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It's not a day that I'd soon forget, for it was the beginning of the end of my life, the first step towards an inescapable gravity well, sending me plummeting from the graces of God. Granted, He and I were never the most communicative of intimates, but generally speaking, I tried to be a good person. I did my best, worked hard, and he stayed out of my way.

We had a deal.

That sunny Sunday morning, hot, humid, with a ten percent chance of showers that always seemed to come at the most inopportune time, Alexis waved over to me from over the white picket fence that separated our two lawns. We made quite the sight, the two of us; she, a graceful arctic vixen whose age was just starting to show, and I, a crocodile at the prime of my life, gruff and uncultured like we were known to be. I always stood up a little straighter when I was around her, not out of interest, mind you. Alexis was married, happily I'd say, given the circumstances.

It wasn't happiness that marked her muzzle this morning, and I quickly dropped my rake. The pine trees that towered high, shading our homes from the sun, were merciless in their pursuit of lawn domination, strewing their dead needles in every nook and cranny conceivable, covering up the pristine lawns we tried so hard to maintain. But those narrowed leaves would have to wait.

"It's Mark," she said, her sundress unable to make her seem any less gloomy. She must have been preparing for church; she never wore these summer outfits otherwise.

"You just got the call?" I asked, though the answer was obvious. Yes. She nodded just to confirm, and I reached my coarse scaly hand over to comfort her. She looked so worn and fragile now. I hated seeing her like this. "What happened?"

"The bone marrow transplant... apparently it wasn't clean. They wouldn't tell me over the phone, but it's bad. Really bad." Alexis covered her muzzle with a paw, and I marveled just how strong the woman was. I could see her shivering, but she refused to cry in front of me. Even here, with her voice cracking, she tried to stay strong.

I had to make the offer to comfort. "If you need anything, you know I'll be here for you," I said.

"I do... Kito's finals start tomorrow. I haven't told him. I need to go out to Atlanta to see Mark, but I need someone here to watch our son. Can you do that for me?" I stood a bit more rigid, something she noticed. "He doesn't have to stay with you, just pop in, make sure he's eating well, studying, getting to class on time, you know. Please?"

"Yes, yes, of course!" I said, curbing my enthusiasm. Alexis was a good looking fox, but her son was simply beautiful, blessed with an equally amazing intellect that allowed him to attend college classes much earlier than his peers. I'd never had an opportunity to sit down with the boy alone, a fact I was thankful for, as my hands probably would not be able to resist touching his body. "What if he asks?"

"He's a smart boy. He'll understand," Alexis said with a sigh. "I only hope he'll be able to forgive me. Look, thanks a lot for this. I really appreciate it," she said as she pulled away from me, her paw lingering for just a moment. "There's a spare key hidden under the flower pot in the backyard. If you have to come in, use that. I need to pack and get going. Your number's still the same, right?"

"Yeah, just call the cell!" I hollered at her, before she hurried inside. Maybe the devil made me do it, but I couldn't believe my luck. I piddled around the lawn for about an hour, though my mind could not focus on the chores. How long would she be gone? I'd neglected to ask, but truth be told, it would have been a waste of a question. She probably didn't know, but I'd estimate a week. Atlanta was about a day's drive from here, and knowing her, she'd power through it. This wasn't the first time that family had a scare, but this was severe.

I looked over my home, meant for four, filled by one. I'd worked hard for what I had, and I was proud of it. Still, I couldn't help but feel envy for Mark. My two-story home remained empty while his was constantly filled with visiting friends and family. If I were in his position, would family come to me? Would my sister come from Seattle, my brother from San Diego? When was the last time we even talked? Mom's funeral?

The sound of a garage door opening shook me from my thoughts, and I watched a Fusion pull from the driveway. Though the windows were tinted, I saw Alexis, and her passenger seat was piled with luggage. I couldn't read her expression, and something told me I didn't want to. Her son peeked out of the garage, and like me, watched her disappear down the street. For a minute he stood there, the breeze nipping at what fur showed past his button up shirt and slacks. He turned towards me, then headed back inside, shutting the garage door.

As much as I loved Alexis's son, Kito had always been somewhat odd. He kept to himself, only talking when spoken to, and to my knowledge, he'd been the perfect son any parent could want. Mark and Alexis never spoke about how their son displayed the normal rebellious natures that most teenagers his age would display. He was always obedient, never complained, and that was weird. Were it not for the pinkish flesh surrounding his equally pale eyes, it would have been near impossible to tell that the kid suffered from albinism.

While I wanted to head over right away, I figured waiting a few hours would be best. I milled around the house, cleaning and preparing lunch, a few pan-fried burgers, before finally heading next door. I rang the doorbell once, waited five seconds, then again, when I heard the sound of paws scampering down the stairs. The maroon door opened moments later, and a rather harried-looking fox stuck his head out. "Yes, sir, Mr. Keenen?" he said with a pant, trying to catch his breath. While I wouldn't call his voice feminine, it definitely sounded like the boy hadn't gone through puberty yet, though he stood tall for his species. Unlike his mother, I only stood a head and a half taller than him.

If I had eyebrows, I would've perked one. There was a strange odor about him, one that was familiar but I didn't recognize it. "Your mom asked me to check up on you," I said, somewhat hesitantly as my mind focused more on trying to figure out that smell than on speaking. "I wanted to see if you wanted any burgers I cooked."

Kito's ears folded back, and he glanced away from the door for a moment, as if he were looking at something, before finally nodding. "Uh, sure, sir. Just, um... give me a moment to change, okay?"

I nodded, and Kito shut the door, though at least he had enough manners not to slam it. A few minutes passed while I waited, but it was only when I'd just turned to walk back home that the door opened again. The arctic fox stepped out wearing a pair of khaki cargo shorts and a black shirt with some weird red faded logo on it, maybe a band or something, I don't know, and over that, he wore an aquamarine-based plaid short-sleeve shirt. Certainly, I didn't expect him to have such casual clothes, but they looked good on the fox. "Uh, sorry about that," he said, edging out of the door and closing it, as if he were trying to keep me from peering inside. He locked the door and shoved the keys into his front right pocket.

"So, what'd your mom tell you?" I asked, trying to start conversation as we walked from his house back over to mine. Finding out what he knew would be the easiest way to avoid the bombshell.

"She's going to visit Dad. I guess something went wrong with the surgery," I looked over my shoulder at the boy following a tail's length behind me. Either he was like his mother and really tough, good at controlling his emotions, or the fact that his father might be dying just didn't phase him. I hoped it was the former.

"Don't worry, I've known your dad for a while now. He's tough. He'll get through this."

Kito made a sound, I guess in agreement, but then he fell silent. We'd reached the house by this time, and I held the door open for him. As he walked by, I could smell that peculiar scent, no, two different smells, both familiar, both I couldn't quite place. Too light to be called a stench, but whatever it was, the source was definitely strong and pungent. If I had a fox's nose, maybe it'd be easier. I wondered if Kito realized he smelled as he did.

My kitchen was my pride and joy, with marble counter tops, an island, and a bar. Kito took a seat there, while I grabbed an empty plate for him. I set the condiments out, lettuce, tomato, onion, cheese. "You want your buns toasted?" I asked, heating up my induction stove and letting a tablespoon of butter melt.

"Uh, yeah, sure," he said, his voice quivering a bit. "Sorry, yessir."

"No need to be formal or shy around me," I said, flashing him a toothy grin. I don't know if I frightened him; reptilian mouths don't quite transition smiles to the extent that canines are capable of. "We're friends here." I ended up toasting four sets of buns, two for the kid and two for myself. Those I brought, along with the patties, on another plate. "You got any allergies? They're ground beef, with garlic, basil and pepper and olive oil."

"No, I'm good," Kito said. The fox pressed his paws together and bowed in prayer. God and I were in agreement, an unspoken contract that such things were unnecessary, so seeing this was rather odd to me. Kito silently mouthed a short grace, one that my own father, rest in peace, used to say. ~God is great, God is good, let us thank him for our food. Bow our heads, may we be fed. Give us, Lord, our daily bread. Amen.~ I smiled again. Alexis's son was certainly dutiful. She'd be happy to hear that.

When he had finished, I tried striking up a conversation again. "So, your mom told me you had finals this week? What subject?"

"Oh, um, this week, I have General and Organic Chem I, Microbiology, and Stat," he said, grabbing one of the toasted buns and laying it flat. The pads of his paws were pink, not dark like his mother's. I watched him prepare the burger, probably more intently than I should have. His motions were dainty, practiced even. The fox picked up the patty and the condiments with just index finger and thumb, minimizing contact with much of his fur, probably to keep it pristine. Life with fur must be pretty irritating, I found myself thinking. With skin or scales, any mess just washed right off. No need to worry about staining or anything. Kito layered his burger with so much care, I was half tempted to just make it for him. Everything was symmetrical and neat, and by the time he finished the final bun, I thought it a shame to actually eat it.

I didn't have a clue about those courses, and asking him to explain it would have a been a waste of time. It would have all gone over my head. I'd gone to college, but halfway through, I realized it was a huge waste of money. I started my own business involving waste disposal, got a couple of guys under me, and within a few years, was making six digits. Granted, it was the lower end of that, let's be honest, but hell, who am I to complain? "So, what do you do for fun?"

It might've been my imagination, it happened so quickly, but I could swear that the arctic fox froze for a second, but when I took a second look, he was eating normally. He swallowed his food, then shrugged his shoulders. "Uh, I guess reading? I'm so busy with school, I don't really get a chance to do anything else."

"You have any friends?"

"Uh, maybe, I guess? There are some people I talk to on campus. We hang out sometimes, uh, when we're studying."

Poor kid. While I didn't spend too much time at college, I remember those parties. This kid was missing out on the college experience! "How long you've been going?"

"I'm just in summer school right now. I guess I'm a sophomore, technically? It's really different than high school."

We ate and talked for about an hour, and when the fox finally set for home, I waved him off. When the door shut, I exhaled. When did I start holding my breath? Had I really been so nervous around the boy? I readjusted my pants, my shaft having grown bothersome over the course of the lunch. "Heh, that boy," I muttered to myself, shoving the perverse thought that went through my mind all the way to the back. I wasn't that guy anymore.

~~*~*~*~~

Like all Sundays, the day passed far too quickly. The sun dipped behind the pines, bathing the sky in brilliant colors before finally fading into darkness, and the moon cast its pale light through the windows. I sat awake in my bedroom, back-down on my california king-sized bed. I'd lived alone for the past ten years; why was it now that the silence started to get to me? As usual, God left me to my own thoughts, leaving to consider where and why I was where I was at.

Maybe this was an opportunity?

Try as I might, I couldn't shake the idea from my mind. Kito's petite figure danced in my mind, and when it pirouetted, it cemented itself in my brain. I wouldn't be able to stop thinking of him. "Shit..." I cursed to myself, my right hand already wandering down to the wet slit at my crotch. I kicked the covers off of me and took a moment to admire myself in the moonlight.

For a croc, I thought I was rather fit. My rough leathery hide contoured my muscles, and I was proud to say that I had a six-pack instead of a beer belly. My left hand started to caress my chest, and while I certainly wasn't the most sensitive of guys, tonight was something special. I didn't stifle my groan; who was I hiding from? My slit widened, and from there, exposed to the air, was palish flesh, my cock growing longer and harder by the second.

I brushed my finger against the flared head, shuddering as waves of pleasure rolled through my body. If I had ears, I'd have wiggled them. My jaw hung open just a bit, and I found myself breathing hard. My right hand started working the base of my shaft, while my left continued to service the head. Unlike other men, I didn't have balls to fondle, though the base of my shaft was really sensitive and swelled not unlike a knot.

My imagination didn't have to search hard for inspiration. I need only look out the window, up towards the two-story house that overlooked mine. There, in the only lit room in the house, on the second floor, that pure white arctic fox sat on the window sill, his eyes turned up towards the stars, stark naked except for the tiny metallic cross hanging around his neck that caught the moonlight. His fur glowed, giving him this pure, ethereal aura, and when the passing thought of that body beneath mine came, I almost did as well.

Despite not needing to, I stifled the growl that welled up in my chest under paranoia that the fox would somehow hear me. I imagined those innocent eyes drifting from the stars and the moon to my supine form, how they'd be filled with shock or horror... or maybe not. Maybe they'd be filled with curiosity and intrigue. Maybe the fox would blush and look away, or maybe he'd be entranced, unable to stop staring.

Maybe I would motion him down, and he would comply, timidly, excitedly. His heart would race as his training conflicted with his wanton desires, his natural want to be bred like the fucktoy he secretly was. I'd accept him, bring him in, my claw wrapped around his shoulder, ushering him to my bed where he'd await my word, tail wagging with anticipation. No words would have to be said; I'd grab him by the back of the head and guide him to my cock, where his rough virgin tongue would tentatively scrape across my glans. He'd be a natural, of course; all foxes were innate cocksuckers, weren't they?

Oh, definitely a natural, able to deep throat me without any prior experience. He'd get in to it, too, bobbing his head, trying to keep himself from gagging on my pretty substantial length. His soft paws would work my shaft, but despite his efforts, I wasn't going to cum just right then and there. It may have been a few years since I'd last had sex, but I still had quite a bit of stamina.

No, that fox would get frustrated. He'd pull off, but before he could ask what he was doing wrong, I'd interrupt him, cupping the back of his head and drawing him into a kiss. What a delightful taste he'd have, of spearmint or wintergreen, maybe. Crocs weren't the best kissers, but I'd make do, and the little slut fox would whimper and grind his hips against me in need. What color would his flesh be? Black? No, hot as that'd be, he'd be too pure for that. Definitely pinkish.

My claw would wrap around his foxhood, and he'd squeak and blush. A virgin in all things, maybe he'd never masturbated before. With my other claw wrapped around his back, cradling him almost, I'd push him back on to the bed, gazing at those... what color were his eyes again? Green? Vividly green, like polished tourmalines. It would be hard to avoid falling into those once pure oceans. The paws pulling me back would be from his panting, needy voice and the feel of his luscious body squirming against my belly.

His angelic voice would fill the air in worship, his back arched in near incomprehensible pleasure. He would beg me for release, the knot on his shaft having become swollen, his malehood having since pooled pre on to his belly. I wouldn't sate his urges just yet, though. Instead, I'd release, grinning at the piteous whine he'd let loose. My claw would collect some of the pre that had collected on his belly before it sank into his fur, and with the fox's legs hiked up on my hips, his little pink tailstar would be all but exposed. The fox would moan and writhe, though I'd have to pin his arms with my other claw whilst my first coated his entrance. It was all a formality, though, by this time, I was so wet that I'm certain the additional lube wouldn't have mattered.

He would cower from the predatory look that glinted in my eyes, but his fear would be tempered by the raging hard-on that dribbled copiously on his belly. I'd whisper in his ear while I positioned myself, the tip of my glans pressing against his rump, slathering my drooling pre across his tailstar. I would push in, just a bit, though the sudden warmth and intense pressure encouraged me just to plow all the way in and hilt the bitch just like he deserved. Then, with one claw on his shoulder, and the other pinning his arms down above his head, I pressed in, his moan laced with lust. As I sink deeper into his svelte body, the growl in my throat would overcome me.

The fox would moan and beg underneath me, but as I looked down, seeing the outline of my cock slowly disappearing from sight as I bury more of it into his ass, what he says loses importance. After several minutes of persistence, my cock would finally hilt that sexy little bitch, and then, all holds are unbarred. I'd grab his hips and lift up, grinding my hips against him before pulling back about halfway, only to drive back in. God, it would be great, hearing my hips pound against that white furred rump, listening to him cry and gasp and groan. His tight ring would give tons of wonderful resistance, made possible by the pre that now coated his insides.

As the minutes passed, he would grow more used to my size, and the pain that he would feel passes on, replaced by waves of pleasure unimaginable. Every time he'd reach up to me or try to get his paw to his cock, I would pound him harder, until throes have him clenching against the bedsheets. My cock would tense, and I would know that the time to breed this fox was nearing. I would move over him, lifting his hips with me until I arced over him, his cock directly above his face. There, I would jackhammer into him, and he cried out, his foxhood twitching and firing blast after blast of cum right into his own muzzle.

"F-fuck!" I hissed to myself as my bowels clenched, and a spurt of hot sticky cum splashed against my snout, trailing down until the orgasm fell to comprehensible levels. I fell back against the pillow, my heart racing, my eyes shifting lazily towards the window. Kito no longer sat at the window, and his light was off. He must've headed to sleep already. Had he seen me? To be honest, I didn't know or really care for that matter. I laid there, basking in afterglow and covered in my own semen, just waiting for sleep to claim me.

~~*~*~*~~

Fuck Mondays...

I woke up groggy at five in the morning, like every other week for the past seven years, showered, cleaned up, and drove off in my beat up Civic to a wonderful fourteen-hour shift.

What would be the day's problems? Another truck breakdown? Gate malfunction? Construction? That one was always fun. After all this time, I'd seen almost every possible issue at least three times, going on four. The fact that I was unusually distracted didn't help the day progress any quicker, and by the time lunch rolled around, the temptation to throw myself into one of the garbage compactors was rather strong.

"Ugh," I groaned, resting my snout against my normally clean desk. Today, though, papers of all sorts of pastel colors, memos, and receipts littered it. It'd take me an hour just to get reorganized. Yet, I couldn't. Every time I looked at a task, my mind would instead drift to the sight of that little fox sitting on the window sill. He took his final today, didn't he? Maybe it'd be a good idea to stop by after work; take him out for dinner as a celebration. Would he like that? Maybe cooking a special meal would be better. Or would that be creepy? Maybe just stopping by would be enough.

When it became obvious that I wasn't going to get much work done, I stood from my desk and left, navigating the few halls of my 'office', which was really just a small building with parking awnings lined along the side to house our massive fleet of all of seven service trucks. We served as an extension, to clean up after our customers who either didn't have proper service to their area or wanted to receive federal tax credit for recycling. Like my home, my office was overshadowed by larger, more impressive buildings, but at least I'd managed to carve out a name for myself. The hardest part about this inner-city location was the potential for graffiti.

While I couldn't necessarily call it fresh air, it did feel good to stand outside. The typical heat rose from the ground, and the sound of cars, trucks and buses served for wonderful white noise. I stood there, taking in the sights, the sounds, the smells... wait a minute. A peculiar scent filled my nostrils, so strong and familiar that I couldn't help but follow it. As I rounded the corner, I found a small group of three sitting on the back steps of my property, two german shepherds and a raccoon, each taking a hit of a small joint that passed between each other. They couldn't have been adults, and from the looks of their backpacks, they'd either just left school or had skipped.

They didn't notice my approach until I was right above them; when one of the dogs reached for the blunt, I grabbed his wrist instead. "What the hell are you kids doing on my property?"

There was a mad scramble as the other two grabbed their backpacks and scrambled off, leaving what I assumed to be their friend behind. The joint fell to the ground, smoldering on the concrete. "Dude, let go!" he pleaded. I twisted his wrist a bit, and he grunted and quieted down. He was a motley little guy, his fur a splash of light and dark brown, his hoodie checkered with black and white, his t-shirt red and orange. From the radius of his wrist, I guessed he was a bit on the frail side, hiding his size underneath the layers of heavy clothing.

"I'll ask again."

"I dunno, man, what the hell's it look like?" I twisted his arm again, and he barked out in pain. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry! We're just smokin' a joint, okay? We're not hurtin' nobody!"

"You do it often?"

"Yeah, I guess, so."

I paused for a second, looking at the kid. "What's your name, son?"

"Erm... Matt?" he asked, uncertain where I was going.

Truth be told, I didn't know where I was headed with this either, but I kept going with it. "You don't know your own name?" The dog puffed up his cheeks and flushed, and I rolled my eyes in response. "So... Matt..." I accented his name for some reason, "Who all do you smoke with?" When he looked like he was going to hesitate or give me some bullshit reason why he couldn't tell me, I tightened my grip on his wrist. "Well?"

"Ow, ow! Dude, I's gonna tell you!" The canine cried out, holding on to my own wrist. There was no way he was going to be able to pull away from me, and the thought of it brought a grin to my face. "There's a group of us, okay? There's Danny, my brother, then there's Eddie who was the raccoon who bailed on me, too. The guy we get it from, I dunno, he tells us to call him Q, but he's cool and smokes with us sometimes. Um, there's this albino kid, I dunno his name, he smokes with us sometimes, and then there's a cat, and I don't know her name either. Sorry."

"This albino kid, is he a fox?"

"Uh, yeah, think so. I's pretty stoned the few times I saw him, but I think he was. Unless I's trippin', he had like this pink around his eyes."

I let go of the dog's wrist and shoo'd him away, my thoughts elsewhere. That smell I caught on Kito yesterday was pot, there was no doubt in my mind. Did his parents know about it? Only God knew the answer to that. I stormed to my Civic, my mind whirling as the image I had in my mind of that pure white fox started to darken with the smoke of marijuana. I couldn't tell you how fast I drove, or how long it took me, but by the time my mind focused, my finger hovered just over the doorbell.

Why was I so mad? This wasn't my kid. Other than watching him, he wasn't my responsibility.

But that was the point, wasn't it? Until his mother returned, he was my charge, and why should I stand idly by while someone makes the same mistake I did? But how? What was the best way to convince him? Twenty years ago, I was in his position, same age, same issues, not nearly as smart. Quoting stats at him? That'd be useless; he probably knew everything already. What was I going to do?

My claw fell from the doorbell, but when it rested against the door, it swung open. The deadbolt was still extended, so whoever had entered through the door did so with such a hurry that they locked it before the door had even closed. A backpack lay on the ground, unzipped, papers scattered across the tile floor. Even though it'd been years since I'd last stepped into Alexis' house, I couldn't take the time to admire the décor. I headed for the winding stairs, taking them two at a time, my tail smacking against the wall.

Picking out Kito's room was a simple enough task; all the doors were white and plain with the exception of one with a large black poster with the same band that was on the kid's shirt from yesterday. I'd just reached the door when a plethora of different sensations hit me. The smell of pot was thick in the air, and heavy bass rattled the frame of the house. Fear overcame me, if only for a moment. Did I really want my image to be forever shattered?

I couldn't wait anymore. I eased the door open, and my heart sank, just as I'd expected. Kito's room was a disaster, messy, unkempt, with clothes strewn across the floor, and uneaten food sitting on plates and sometimes not even that. The albino fox lay unmoving on his mess of a bed, a lit joint between his fingers. He was stark, laying there with only his fur to cover him. His computer monitor was off, though music still blared through the speakers, screaming lyrics so convoluted and angry I couldn't even understand them. He didn't even notice I was there until I was standing on top of him. He looked at me with reddened eyes, only to suddenly startle. "W-whoa, what're you doing in my room?"

"Really, kid?" I couldn't even find the words now.

Kito huffed and brought the joint up to his lips, the tip glowing as he inhaled. "Well, whatever. You gonna lecture me, too?"

"I figure you're smart enough to know better, but, really, kid? Smoking in your room? I figure your parents already know?"

"You don't know what it's like. All that stress. You know what it's like not to have any friends? I deserve something to chill out. Doesn't matter, weed isn't addictive."

"Yeah, you do. Know what psychological dependency is?"

"Yeah, so what?"

"You were smoking yesterday, weren't you?"

Kito snorted and took another puff. "What of it? My dad has fucking cancer. I'm not an idiot; for my mom to rush off like that means someone fucked something up. My dad could die." He brought the joint back to his muzzle. "And I can't even go see him cause everyone expects me to be this fuckin' genius."

The full he laid on groaned from my weight as I sat at the foot of the bed. I tapped next to me, urging the fox up. He obeyed, sitting up and moving next to me. He lifted his paw to take another puff, but I held out my claw. He hesitated, but relented, handing the blunt over to me. I held it between my fingers before inhaling a puff myself. It'd been years since I'd smoked pot, but the one puff was enough to give me a bit of a buzz. That was enough of that, though, and I extinguished the joint on my palm, wincing only a bit.

The fox perked his ears. "Wow, dude... that's pretty hardcore."

"Yeah, smarts a little."

"You used to smoke?"

"When I was a kid. Lost my dad around your age, shot. Mom died a few years later, don't really know why. Started smoking just to ease the pain" I rested my claw on his shoulder. "Got busted and spent some time in jail cause I couldn't pay the fine. Didn't really talk to my family after that. I don't want you to go down that same path."

"Look, man, I don't know what you're playing at, but I don't know why you're even pretending to care." Kito laid back, his arms spread out. "You barely even know me. Hell, I'm here naked and you aren't even bothered by that."

"Well, get dressed."

Kito glanced at me. "What for?"

"You're coming over to my house. Look, I don't care if you smoke. I'm not going to turn you in or tell your mom. But if you're going to smoke, you're gonna do it where I can make sure you aren't overdoing it."

"Are you... serious?" When my claw fell across his leg, he looked up at me. Even though his eyes were still somewhat bloodshot, I could see the wonderment there. Having a release would be good, all the better if I could keep him from overdoing it on the pot.

"Anyways, it's not really up for debate. You wanna smoke, you come over to my house. If I catch you doing it elsewhere, I'll tell your mom. If you feel stressed out and wanna talk without being judged, I'll be there for you. My life's not the most glamorous, but that's still experience you can use." I stood up and left him there, closing the door behind myself.

He didn't stop by later that day, and to be honest, I didn't expect him to. But when my doorbell rang a few days later, I gave a grin that would put any other crocodile to shame. I may not have had the grace of God, but Kito was still my angel.