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The Spark They Let Burn

'GO!'

The brakes of the fire engine squealed with discontent as the driving Otter aimed to put his paw through the floor of the cabin, summoning the weight of the massive red vehicle to a sudden, and quite unorthodox stop. But it would take far more than a mere jaw clattering halt to throw off the gut and nerve instinct of the brave souls aboard this engine, who all leapt into action at an instant. Before the metal beast was even given the chance to rattle its suspension back and forth angrily at its commanding master, a Dalmatian, clad fully in the armor of his life saving profession, launched himself effortlessly over the side of the truck, his paws catching the gravel of the road with rubber lined traction, the gift of the gods of Grace as he bent his body into a full tilt, darting to the back of the engine in the time it took many of the furs to get out of their seats.

'GO, KID, GO!'

Resistance seemed his one obstacle, the weight of his tank and clothing the bane of his speed, the one hindrance on him when time was a factor. One rare occasion where the price for wasted time, was lives. The heel of the Dalmatian locked, and he threw his weight to his right, almost leaving his spots behind him to follow as he deaked to the back end of the engine, leaping with all his motion onto the bumper. As his weight came fully to rest on its metallic target, paws gloved in green soared over the Siamese ties that held the hoses in place, releasing the weighty ready line and heaving it over his shoulder. With grace that would make gymnasts weep with pride, the spotted protector vaulted away from the truck, spinning on his heels as he landed and hauling the line with all his brute, feral force to his final destination. The Hydrant. Muscles and sweat already pumping, he griped the line tightly and tossed it in a wide arc, hurling the line over his yellow counterpart, wrapping the line about the painted post twice before whipping out his most trusted sidekick. The Spanner wrench. The Dalmatian grinned with adrenaline and slammed the crank into place, pumping the side cap of the metallic lawn gnome with a grin. As the binding threads of the Hydrant attachment finally emerged from the cap, the end of the just hauled hose finds its resting place with a sharp PLING, screwing down and into its fully locked position. Nodding heavily at his work, the Dalmatian grunted, and looked back to his comrades in arms.

'READY!'

Taking pride in having the chance to stomp the accelerator in turn, the driver stoked the diesel muscle into a heated frenzy, causing the groaning metal to push forward against the burning blacktop, the screech of its rubber legs reverberating heatedly over the din of organized chaos. The Dalmatian remained poised and watched with a steel lined eye, making sure his tie on the line wouldn't come undone as the engine roars away, dragging the hose off its hindquarters slowly but surely. A perfect pull. The hose remained both on the Hydrant, and the moving engine, giving the Dalmatian his chance to breath before the next critical step. Panting under his mask, he glared toward the engine, waiting with anticipation for those brake lights to burn, signaling him to unwind the coiled snake of tubing. 'No mistakes, kid... ' he huffed to himself. 'Nice and easy. You got this.' The snap of the Spanner wrench on the main water line, the knob on the top of the Hydrant, echoed over the raised and honed senses of the Canine's mind, ringing in his perked and alert ears as the red monster squeaked to another unhappy standstill several hundred feet down the road.

'GO!'

Organized chaos was suddenly no more as a sheer eruption of actions coursed over the entire area, as furs of all sizes and different builds began to leap from their places once held so comfortably into the unknown of a suddenly stopped fire truck, wailing its fearful siren across the expanse of the small valley. Several of the furs began to man the gauges and switches mounted against the red monster. But one of these held the most crucial job of this step. And this post fell into the paws of a short German Shepard, who gunned his way quickly past the others, finding the back compartment of the truck in seconds. The door of the storage unit was nearly torn of its hinges as the Shepard boldly stepped forward, and seized one of the many air tanks, hanging upside down and at the ready. With a flick of his small form, the Shepard grunted the 40lb tank up and over his head fur, and had the precious supply of air cinched and buckled in against his lithe form in seconds. Much like the Dalmatian before him, he darted like a rocket back to the engine, leaping and reaching high above him to grasp under a red tarp. Quickly and efficiently, his black-gloved paw met his aim. Grabbing fiercely, the Shepard yanked with all his might, and took with him a healthy distance of hose with him.

'MOVE IT! MOVE IT!'

The Dalmatian craned his head over, and watched with sharp and keen eyes, listening to every steel edged word as if the chief was right behind him screaming them. In the midst of this great commotion, his eyes fell upon the Shepard, pulling the hose down, and sprinting in a zigzag line towards the end of the road the red beast rested its grumbling form on. Almost smiling to himself, he watched closely as the German Shepard gunned his form up the street carrying the heavy hose behind him as easily as he carried his own tail. It never ceased to impress him the speed he had.

FFFUAAA FFFUAAA FFFUAAA

The Dalmatians paws reacted before his reminiscing mind had the clarity to pull itself from the loping form of the Shepard, and began to pump furiously at the knob at the tip of the Hydrant. Thirty turns on the Hydrant after three horn blasts from the truck, just like the chief had instructed not too long ago. The mixed emotions and adrenaline created a strength unmatched, making light and easy work of the troublesome bolt at the top of the difficult Hydrant. Suddenly, as he twisted that knob slowly more and more free, the hose at his side began to expand with the intense pressure of water that burst from the waiting Hydrant like gold from an untapped mine. Luckily, the hose was attached to the engine's inner nerve system, and the strength truly held by the bothersome behemoth quickly corralled the unbridled force of the suddenly released water.

'COME ON SPOTS! ON THAT HOSE!'

The Spanner wrench fell with a heavy clatter against the sun baked blacktop as the Dalmatian threw all his weight into his run again, pushing the limits of his entire body, his legs pumping with the strength of the very pistons that made the engine he rode on such a fierce warrior against that which would harm others. In seconds he was up the street and following the yellow lines right up to his mark, right behind the Shepard. As he pushed himself up the street, the Shepard was quickly directed over to the end of the hose, nearest the area so desperately calling for these brave soldiers against fire and the brimstone that may very well threaten several lives. He stood ready, his paws wrapped tightly around the bronzed and shining nozzle, when suddenly he felt a stronger form support him rigidly from behind. Taking a protectively defensive posture, the Dalmatian dug his heels in, one foot farther back for added support and gripped himself tight against the Shepard. Nods all around. Pats on helmets as gauges clicked green. Pressure optimal. They were ready.

'HIT IT!'

Switches were thrown, buttons were pressed and gauges across the board mounted on the ribs of the roaring monstrosity flared left and right, displaying numbers and pressures no civilian on earth would have understood in the heat of such an intense situation. The hose the Shepard gripped burst to life as the water that was begging for its freedom coursed with a cold passion from the nozzle before him, bathing his enemy in the sweet justice it so rightfully deserved.

The click of a stopwatch was heard. But only the two furs several dozen feet behind the battling volunteers are attentive enough to hear it. The Tiger wearing the device around his neck smiled widely, and showed his findings to the Husky standing next to him. Both survey the time with a wave of relief, the Husky crossing his arms to watch the battling duo.

'Dead even. Excellent work for a pair of young volunteers.' The Tiger wearing the stopwatch smiled and agreed jovially with a deep nod, crossing his arms over his chest in unison with his companion, resuming his vigilance in watching the Shepard and Dalmatian work.

'They've really come a long way, those two. Very good indeed.' The leaders of the brigade of heroes chatted on about the day, and the training teens, most earning their keep for the day during the rigorous drilling session. The voices of the two trailed off into the afternoon air as the fiercely fighting twosome finally took down their enemy: A 55-gallon barrel.

The entire drill lasted under two minutes.

With a light thud of steel striking the hot asphalt, the Shepard set down his air tank, taking a well-earned respite from the battle well fought not ten minutes ago. A quick debrief by the chief after all of the recruits and older fighters had taken their chance to vanquish their mock opponents and all was well with the Marine County Fire Department. Those who needed improvement were dealt with accordingly, and discussions flickered between the lines of departing crews about tactics and styles of firefighting. As the furs retreated to their exit vehicles of choice, the skinny, dark brown boy was ready to call it a day. But before he could do so, his equipment needed his final repairs and replacements. So he set about his task dutifully, unscrewing the massive tank from its holster, preparing to swap it out with a filled and fresh one.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls of all ages (a drum roll begins), I present to you, the 18 year old, standing at an impressively sturdy 5'6', tipping the scales at a dry 130 lbs, maybe 140 when wet, with brown eyes that make ladies and men alike sigh longingly, the one, the only, THE. Grahme. (Cymbal clash!) Or, that's how it played out in his mind at least. Squatting over the tank of compressed air, you spy a German Shepard, his form lithe and small as he attentively and surely works away at his task, his diligence reflecting brightly in his brown eyes. In a survey of his friends to describe the demeanor of the kind-hearted canine, the most common word used among them is, nearly unanimously, relaxed. With one footpaw taking more weight than the other in his usual stance, Grahme stands tranquilly with the world, or against it when his duties as a Volunteer force him to don a different hat. Training to perhaps become a full fledged Fire Fighter, the last real Knight in an age where chivalry has long passed from the edges of the horizons of man. But, taking it all in stride, he went about his duties with a grin on his face, giving him a more suitable nickname to fit his personality.

'Sheppy! Hey!' Sheppy looked up from his harness, spotting the form of a more muscular Dalmatian trouncing playfully his way, with a gentle smile on his face as he strode over the blacktop surely. Sheppy had long eyed the Dalmatian from a distance, taking a respectful interest in facts and general knowledge about him. His name was Kyle, with matching age and eye color as the Sheppy mentioned previously. Only an inch or so taller than him, though, at an easy 5' 8', and 150 lbs of thin, defined muscle over his spotted form, Kyle seemed to be the most confident guy in the entire department, though still a volunteer along with Grahme. His demeanor stood more attentive, seeming to be cut clean out of the Music Man as his heels clicked close with each step, his chest more outward than usual for a relaxed stance. He held himself as a king, with the facial features to match it. But his face always spoke of calm, organized thought. Beautiful, calm, organized thought. Or, well... beautiful by Sheppy's standards. Kyle had the easiest nickname in the world to remember, making all of those too sensitive to puns cringe with angst every time it was uttered.

'Hey Spots!' Sheppy called out with a warm greeting, snapping the final straps over the freshly added tank and holding in place as he made sure all was as it should be on the heavy harness. Spots' eyes traced over the tank in sync with Sheppy's, studying the fixture points and lines, everything checking out by the book as the Shepard looked up from his work with a light smile. 'What can I do for ya?'

His feet close together as he shuffled his weight into a comfortably proper stance, Spots pointed softly to the metallic edges of the newly added tank of compressed air, his voice gentle as he inquires, 'Need a hand with that?'

Sheppy shook his head very slightly, looking back down to the tank with one last overview, his inspection barely 3 seconds before replying, 'Nah, I think I got it. But thanks for askin'. Great job today, by the way. Everything went really well for us. I think the Chief was impressed.'

Spots nodded quickly with a small grin, looking up to scan the horizon of mingling furs for the one tall form of the Tiger they called Chief. But he was nowhere to be seen. His brown eyes still gazing across the pavement, Spot's tail flicks idly with his return. 'Yeah, im sure he was. More with you than with me. I struggled on the hose pretty bad.'

'What do you mean?' Sheppy's voice stayed light and gentle as a smile slowly peeled at the corners of his maw. 'You did a fantastic job! Faster than anyone I've seen on the ready line on that hydrant, and keeping me standing when the hose was tryin' to knock me over, I say you did a pretty good job. What makes you think otherwise?' Sheppy questioned Spots, as his head tilted with curiosity. It was here that the Dalmatian finally took his moment to slouch gently, breaking his kingly bearing as he let his chin fall with slight embarrassment.

'No no, not that. When... When we switched, and I had the front end of the hose. The water was all over the place, I could barely focus the nozzle.' A sigh fell from the lips of the gloomy puppy, his ears falling downward, his tail quickly following suit. But this wouldn't do, OH no, not with Sheppy. The German Shepard quickly stood, his smile bright and reassuring as a small paw found its resting perch on Spots' shoulder.

'Hey,' Sheppy called for the attention of Spot's downcast eyes as he reassured him. 'Its nothing at all to fret about! You did an excellent job. You just gotta find that perfect grip. Like this... ' Sheppy took his paw away from Spot's upper body, and grasped his forearms, lifting them upwards between their chests. Sheppy smiled as his wrist became the mock nozzle head of a ready line, and he placed Spot's paws tightly about his muscles. 'When you grab it, hang on tightly, and don't leave any budge room. Like this...' With a gentle squeeze, and the movement of a paw or two from Sheppy, he showed his fellow volunteer his style of gripping a nozzle properly. But Spot's mind was struggling to pay attention. It was odd, but there was something there. More than two friends comparing fire-fighting techniques, more than a simple conversation. Even more than flesh and blood meeting as his fur seemed to stand on end at this one thought. What was that, on his fingertips, in the paws of that German Shepard? Is that... A spark? A spark of what? The Dalmatian almost leaned in to get a better look as his mind began to churn the butter of his thoughts slowly, methodically. What was that? In his stomach? But just like that, Sheppy's paw slid away, and Spot's eyes fled up to the smile on the Shepard's muzzle. 'Like that.'

A quick nod was all the Dalmatian could force out. Nothing was coming to his mind, everything was sliding off into oblivion. What the hell was going on? They were just talking, a more simple conversation could not have been had anywhere, why couldn't he focus? Then, finally, the realization for his initial intrusion on the Shepard's work dawned on the boy. His face lighting up, Spot's looked quickly to the Shepard's pocket, and then his eyes, pushing his confusion and flopping stomach to the side.

'Hey! Uh... now that I remember it, do you mind if I steal a ride home from you? I don't really have anyone else to ask for it.'

'Done! Give me like, ten minutes to finish up here, and we'll drop you off at home.' Quick and sure was Sheppy's answer, making the face of Spots a bit brighter as his tail reflected again his satisfaction at an affirmative answer. Nodding gently, Spots took a few steps away from his friend, mumbling something softly about getting his things ready. But before Sheppy could ask for a confirmation on what the boy said, the speedy dog was away to his things, tending to them with an unseen blush, and a mumble of nervousness.

Sheppy took a deep breath, watching Spots stride away confidently. His demeanor fell, and he began to breath heavily as his eyes return to its former task, his breath coming in nervous whispers. 'Oh, God, he's so cute. Please don't let me screw this up.' And all that the canine could think with a beating and anxious heart was one consuming, breath shortening idea: Did... Did Spots see that spark too?

Those ten minutes came, and gone. And sweet Gods above, the earth had never seen more painstaking minutes than the ones shared between the two young volunteers as their gear was stowed and made ready for their journey home. Together. Together... Its funny how a word like 'together' suddenly takes such a profound meaning when the emphasis is thrust upon the moment, and not the definition. And no thought burned brighter in the heads of these two nervous teens than 'together.' This word, and this day, was ALL about to be redefined.

Sheppy pulled the car around the side of the hill from its resting place around the corner, and gave a quick honk to the waiting Dalmatian across the way. The floppy ears of the waiting puppy spun before his head could react, and with a quick nod, and a smile, he was jaunting slowly over to the car, his mind issuing the final instructions for the night. 'Everything will be fine, just be cool. Relax, and be cool. No mistakes kid. Nice and easy... You got this'

'It's nothing to worry about. Just a Dalmatian. A nice, kind... Beautiful Dalmatian.' Sheppy's eyes got the dreamy, faraway look again as his passenger made his way over to the green 1991 Volvo 740 that his paws commanded. His baby, Melena he called her, had treated him well, through fire and trial, always his escape from the everyday, and monotonous threats to his existence. With a dull thud, before Sheppy could pull his senses back into the car with him, Spots settled in shotgun of the car, after depositing his gear bag in the back seat. His voice faltering very softly, he nods to Sheppy with a cocked grin, 'Ready.'

It was right there, that squeak in his voice. An abnormality in his usually strong and confident demeanor. Did Sheppy hear it? Did he suspect? It was too late for his mind to prod the moment any farther as the Volvo's engine lit up the pavement with a flash of a squeal. Speeding off down the road, the fellow fire fighters waved their adieus, and returned to their business.

Oh good Gods, the silence that suddenly enveloped the world was excruciating as the two boys sat idly in that car, Sheppy steering his way through the mountain towns' sloping ranges of streets with relative ease. The minds of the two were clicking, pounding away in their skulls, trying desperately to forge out something, anything at all that could be used as a distraction from the silence that seemed to chip away at the sanity of anyone even remotely near the car. One result was reached by both sides. A conversation. 'But what the heck can you talk about with someone as cute as... uh.' A unanimously nervous thought passes through both of their minds at the speed of light. They were so scared. Oh, it was simply adorable.

'SO...' Sheppy began out loud, making Spots jump slightly with surprise. 'What, uh... What bands to you like?' 'DAMN IT,' the Shepard thought. 'The one cliché thing to think of. Oh god, I'm blowing this. He'll never li...'

' I like a lot of bands actually.' Spots replied with an honest nod. Sheppy's head gasped with stunned amazement. 'He took it, he took it! Go go, follow it up!'

'Really? What are some of them?' The Dalmatian gave a gentle shrug, and drew his paws against his chest, fiddling with his thumbs idly with a soft response. 'I'm kinda eclectic, actually. So I guess I'm a fan of everything from, oh I don't know... ' The boys eyes turned slowly up to the driving puppy, glimmering with some emotion that could range from fear to pure honesty as he offered gently, 'Big band Jazz, all the way to Rammestein.'

One could almost hear the snap of the Shepard's spinning his head as he pulled his brown eyes from the darkening road, his muzzle lit with the excitement equivalent to that of a child hearing the Ice Cream Truck puttering up his street. 'You're KIDDING me...' His voice was bathed in emotion, a strong emotion that was enough to make Spots turn back to his clasped palms, his mind reeling as it began to over calculate the variation of the Shepard's voice 'Too much, I knew he wouldn't like it. Damn it all, I should have sai-'

'I LOVE RAMMESTEIN!' The driver declared aloud, his tail thumping his chair behind him madly as he leaped at the connection thusly established between their beating hearts and minds. 'Like, Reise Reise? And Du Has?' The Dalmatians' tail also leapt to life as he nodded hurriedly, laughing a bit as he leaned forward in his seat. 'Reise Riese is one of their best songs!'

And from there on out, starting with a heated discussion of German Death Metal, the two had naught but a magnificent time. A very small portion of their minds was almost wishing that their car ride wasn't so short as subject after subject of conversation began to form in one sprawling bridge of thought. Another ten minutes and their travels would come to a halt as the Shepard kept mental tabs at all points on his location, turning here, yielding to a stop sign there.

But above all, in these quickly developing snippets of chatting, neither of the two boys could see it, but it was there. Growing. That spark... It continued to burn on the sleeve of Grahme's shirt, spreading its amber and auburn embers slowly along that dark brown fur, up, up his arm, across his shoulder blades, and falling like water down his spine. Kyle was in the same boat, car rather, as his paws that learned their grip glowed fervently in his minds eye, though the rest of his consciousness sat oblivious to the heat that etched its way upwards, through, and over his carefully maintained white fur. The fire had begun, and it was spreading fast. The heat would soon become quite intense for the both of them. But would these volunteers, soon to be Fire Fighters, have enough courage to let it go? Or would trained response douse the heat to ashes? Could they let this one spark go?

Just this once...?

At some point in their conversation, Melena's Radio was clicked to life, to keep the moments between them filled with at least some ambiance to usher their voices into a steady beat of confidence. Though the two had no need whatsoever for it, any and every subject they fell upon was met with elation from the two parties, every topic formatted, and discussed until even an Encyclopedia would tell them 'No more. You have discussed ALL of what the subject has to offer, move on please.' And so, they happily did, until their lungs just about burst with their efforts, every moment and every word drawing the two youths closer, and closer.

And then, once the stage had been set, and all the lights tested, finally, the two began to push envelopes. Sheppy was the first to call his thespian forward into the limelight. His mind, so full of joy at their companionship becoming more than just a dream, coerced him to compliment the Dalmatian... somehow. With white knuckles on poor Melena's steering wheel, Sheppy chuckled lightly and turned his eyes with a tilt of his muzzle, speaking in a somewhat mumbled sentence as their conversation provided the PERFECT segway into his compliment. 'Well, it doesn't matter how your mom thinks you look, she's biased. I, however, am not, and think your butt is adorable. Especially when you picked up that nozzle.'

FWOOSH. The flames on Sheppy's arm leapt as his heart fueled the heat, Spots' own embers crackling silently to the unhearing two as his white furred chin suddenly fell to his chest under the weight of a crimson blush of ruby red, his eyes widening a bit with stunned realization. He had felt that spark. And now it was out in the open, Sheppy's emotions falling from his burning sleeve as Spots' mumbled from the safety of his downcast eyes, 'You... You're just teasing now...'

'Au Contraire, Spots. I'm not teasing you in the least. I'm... ' A slight wave in his voice as the boy faltered into a thought he himself had just received, and willingly placed out for the other boy to see. 'I'm quite serious. I think you have a lovely butt.' The Dalmatian was floored. His own mind cried out for a reciprocation on the compliments, but... Could he risk it? After a second or two of screaming hesitation, his mind churned into words, which he offered the Shepard shyly.

'I... would be a liar if I said I wasn't tempted to grab your own butt while I was supporting you in the drill, earlier.' Now, twas the Shepard's turn to flash scarlet in the headlight of the cars luminous gaze as his ears perked with a bewildering realization. He saw it too... The spark. But with a heavy laugh, the boy played of his leaping heart, and faltering stomach with a raspberry. 'Pffft. Oh, come on now, you're just saying that because I like your butt.' The Dalmatian replied with a stunned, and sarcastically taken aback gasp.

'You butthead, I'm being serious too!' His eyes flashed brightly as a pearly white smile repulsed his blush, his body craning over the car's armrest for him to whisper devilishly, 'If you don't believe me, ill have to give you a Nerple.' To which the Puppy laughed, near hysterically. 'You wouldn't'.. As a matter of fact, I dare you to!'

In retrospect, this was a very poor choice.

The strong arms of Spots Shot with haste over the seatbelt covering a small portion of the Shepard's chest, and began pinching wildly, softly though, so as not to careen the car off the road with Sheppy's reaction, as maddening giggles filled the cabin of the vehicle, which began jerking a bit more over the street. Sheppy's eyes lit up with surprised and stunned yelping, trying to dance his form out of the way of the imposing paws, but it was no use. Held fast into the seat, he could only wriggle madly against his restraints, and call aloud for mercy, laughing hysterically.

'Ahh! No! I give, I give! No more! UNCLE!!!!' And Spots happily relinquished his assault, his head falling over the headrest to lay over the Shepards chest, laughing so hard he could barely see straight, as those once attacking paws now lay kith kindness about the other's torso, pulling him into a soft hug. The laughter echoed though the car still as Sheppy's now unseen muzzle grew hot embers of bashfulness that collected in another blush as he stopped slowly for a red light, holding Spots closely with one free paw.

Melena slid to a silent halt as the two passengers fell silent, their laughter still ringing heavily in their ears as the world about them, bathed in darkness, suddenly illuminated with this moment. Spots, leaning down and hugging Sheppy over the median of a car, so content... So peaceful. It was then, as many moments go, that a conveniently timed event occurred. The radio, barely 6 inches from the pair, crackled slowly to life, and began to sing. The words that reverberated made the two stop, and hold their breaths with anxiousness.

'I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy. I'll be your hope, I'll be your love.. Be everything you need. I'll love you more with every breath. Truly, Madly, Deeply do.' Truly Madly Deeply. Savage Garden echoed across the silent expanse of two hearts that were suddenly filled with fear that the other may hear just how loudly theirs was beating with the emotion that suddenly flooded them. Spots eyes were pinned wide open as he stared at the dashboard of Melena, the gauges all puttering quietly on the lower side on the left, the light still holding the car dutifully in place as the two swallowed in nervous union.

Past the headlights of that Volvo, Father Time shuffled out a few eons as the bewildered boys as dormant they lay in their emotions, stewing in this...this slowly growing fire. The spark was no longer as the heat began to flow from the radio, another catalyst for the flames that needed no further assistance in growing rapidly, and the very essence of Nature herself began to blow encouraging breezes across the cinders, igniting the whole car into a screaming, raging red beacon that nobody could see. An Invisible Inferno that raged from the most humble beginnings, now into an unstoppable blaze of heat and hearts, fear and fervor.

This was it. The audience was hushed, and now, onto the stage walked a nervous, but sure Shepard. With a cleared throat, and an uneasy voice, the puppy began.

'Spots? I'm... I'm not gonna lie. I'm attracted to you. Very attracted to you. I mean, I haven't even known you that long, but...' His eyes falling to his knees, he speaks gently, his words glancing off an attentive ear beneath his lips. 'I... never believed in love at first sight until right now. Spots.... Kyle...' And with the deepest, most profound breath of his life, he utters hushedly, 'I love you.' Suddenly, the depth of his words became more and more apparent as his ears fell flat against his skull, his face turning away. 'I'm sorry... I.. I don't...' There was no way. The Dalmatian couldn't be. He simply couldn't. It was a shot in the dark, but nice try. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.

'No,' came a voice strong and clear, piercing the night with its firmness as Spots lifted his head off of Sheppy's shoulder and turned his head to speak directly to him, whose head had already spun so hard, some of his blush accidentally splashed the windshild. 'No. Shep... Grahme. I feel the exact same way.' But there, his words began to falter, sounding as a rabbit returning to its hole as he mumbled, 'But... But I don't know. Is... Is this right?' His eyes plead for Sheppy's response, desperate for a frightened answer. Unsure of even the very paws that he squeezes and wrenches, he asks once more, simply: 'Can we do this?'

And with this question hanging in the air thicker than Extra Chunky Peanut Butter, the world held its breath. Even the breeze, once used to blow these embers into a blaze, pauses that Nature will be able to hear the reply offered. It couldn't be. A sheer happenstance, a glancing insight into a lucky coincidence. It could never work. Was this really love? All the fear, and all the worry over what the world would think about such a simple emotion that these two boys have tried to hard to fight. Was this right? They had fought enough for it, both earned their stripes to the world for its cruel mockings and resentment. And even now, the fire that they sought for was already there, now, burning their very fur into soot with their true, and now unashamed desire. To put it out now would take more effort than either of these two anxious boys wished to exert at this point. When would it be their turn? Why couldn't they? Why not?

'Why can't we do this?' Sheppy said in an excited shuffle, unbuckling his seatbelt to looks into Spots eyes more fully, the dawn breaking on his every word as his mind begins to understand. 'I ... I don't see anything wrong with who we are, with how we live. Spots... ' A tentative paw traversed the distance between the burning fire and the other, who willingly reached his paw out as a safe haven and clasped his friend's... sorry... His Love's paw tightly, nearly crying with delight as he strengthened his soul for the full response, with a smile that could never be wiped away. 'I-I mean. Nobody has to know. It can be our secret.' Secret. As that word fell into the car, both tails in unison flailed their approval as these two boys leaned closely, their noses mere inches away as their eyes glimmered together.

'Secret? I can keep secrets...' Spots offered silently. But, they both knew that right now, words were the last thing on either of their minds. In this moment, all would be realized. Finally, those glinting eyes closed, those hearts fluttered with the sudden blindness, loosing sight of their newfound companion filled them with such an odd, light headed sensation that they leaned forward together, fearing the other may have disappeared from their waking dream, and by pure luck, brushed their lips suddenly. With a gasp from both parties, the trembling satin muscles connecting soft as feathers with their electric ferocity, the two committed to their now bent and twisted wills, and pressed forward.

I tell you all that no kiss on this earth has seen such honestly, and respectfully shy intentions as the kiss exchanged on this night, that you all bear witness to.

Lips closed shut tightly, eyes refusing the sight of the other male he kissed for fear it would burn with their retinas, the minds and hearts of the boys suddenly flared with feral strength, the flames they let simmer suddenly engulfed the entire road, and crept up the hillside of the stoplight that they sat at, which had long since turned green. But honestly, at this point? Who gives a fuck?

But, in realizing this, driver's instinct kicked in, the Shepard pulling away and looking into his rear view mirror with anxiousness, frightened out of his mind that the driver behind him saw the stolen kiss, and might resent them for it. Suddenly forced into a coast, Melena rolled her eyes and mumbled something to Sheppy softly about nobody being behind her, and good job on ruining that fantastic moment. His knuckles white on the wheel, he softly growled to himself, and straightened his arms out, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. Maybe he could salvage the moment. Maybe if he...

But his answer was instantaneous as a warm paw suddenly came into contact with his inner thigh, causing him to inhale sharply with stunned surprise. Spots lay close to him, and reassured him calmly, though still with nervous eyes, that everything was ok, and he understood. But the next part not even I could make up.

With newfound strength, and fearlessness, the Dalmatian offered softly, 'Sweety... Pull into that Parking lot to your left.' Sheppy's eyes rocketed over to see Spots giggle nervously, his chin lowered with delight. 'I think I'd like to give you some more secrets...' And so, with tired leaving trails of flame behind him as the car puttered slowly away from the light, the Shepard placed his blinker on, and breathed deeply as he turned left into the lot, his mind screaming:

'Oh, God, he's so cute. Please don't let me screw this up...'