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Author's Note: I did not name the wolf after the professional wrestler. It's one of those unhappy coincidences that comes from using common names.

The GreenMount Chronicles, Chapter 5 "Remembering"

Craig was a football tiger. It was as simple as that; he did not like basketball, or baseball, or track. He was fast but not agile enough. Weight lifting was fun, but that was more utilitarian than anything else. It got him in shape, it gave him the nickname "Mace."

In medieval times, a mace was a huge blunt weapon swung at an enemy, whose influence was in its weight, it's ability to crush. He liked that just fine. It was better than something queer like 'hammer' or 'the bomb'.

It was for this reason that he belonged to the football team. Mace was six foot eight inches tall, with a big, muscular frame, all of his edges cut and defined. Stripes like slashes hugged his orange furred body. His shirts (when he chose to wear them) were always tight and accentuated his impressive shape.

All of this he earned, of course, from his countless hours at his second home-- the college gym. He could lift more weight than almost anyone he knew.

The exception, of course, was his wolf friend Richard. Only, no one called him by his name. Anyone who wanted to keep all their teeth called him "Rock." This nickname was commonly thought to be attributed to his muscles. But it had actually been given to him by a few of his girlfriends on account of his 'male' assets. So it was no secret that he had a big dick to match his muscles. Rock, like Mace, felt most comfortable in the football field in his plastic armor and cleats.

However, despite the fact that he was a big wolf, he wasn't nearly as aggressive as Mace. No one wanted to tangle with that tiger, particularly not when he was decked out in his gear. Once he had actually lifted a member of the opposing team over his shoulder and thrown the poor guy onto the ground. He'd been pulled out of the game for that little stunt, but he never regretted it.

In fact, he was remembering that little incident as he stepped into the heat and noise of the locker room. The air was humid with the sweat of the young males and the water from the showers, the air potent with their loud talk and the sound of sneakers hitting the cement floor. Lockers opened, and clothes slipped over fur.

Immediately Mace peeled his shirt off, pulling it over his head and casting it onto the floor next to his locker. He kicked off his shoes and shucked off his shorts. Bending over he peeled off his socks, dropping them in the pile with the rest of his clothes. With little interest he stuck his thumb under the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down around his ankles and kicking them away. Many of the other guys replaced their clothes one article at a time-- shirt for shirt, pants for pants-- but Mace liked to pull everything off and walk around naked.

Mace stood there for a moment, picking up his clothes and tossing them in his locker.

A big fist punched him in the back of his shoulder, making him jump. He turned around. It was Rock.

He was a big black wolf, and one of the few guys in the locker room who could nearly compare with Mace's size and strength. He was only six foot five, but he was big. His muscles were as big as Mace's, but they weren't as sharply defined. His entire body, all the way down to his cock and the pads on his feet, was black. His eyes were green.

He and Mace were buddies of sorts. They hung out, picked up girls and drank together, and often they fought like hell, too. Rock was the closest thing Mace had to a real friend. There was very little that they didn't share together.

Mace nodded to him in acknowledgement.

A fox walked by, wearing only a jockstrap. He glanced at Mace at length as he walked by. Then he turned the corner and was gone.

"Queer?" Rock asked, motioning to the fox as he walked away.

Mace shook his head. "Yeah, but he's cool. Did my homework for me last week."

Rock grinned. "And what did you do for him?"

"I let him watch me work out. Wearin' just my jock."

Rock chuckled. "Aww come on, you know that thing doesn't cover your dick."

"Yeah, and now he knows it, too," Mace said, raising an eyebrow.

"You better tell him to quit it. He was checkin' you out as he went by."

Mace chuckled. "He was just fuckin' around. 'sides, you check me out all the time and you're not queer."

Rock smiled. "I just want to see how much bigger I've gotta get before I can take you down."

The tiger laughed harder at this, and he reached over to ruffle Rock's headfur. "In your dreams, bitch."

Rock swatted away Mace's arm. "Fuck you," he said with no real rancor.

"Like I said, in your dreams."

Rock shook his head. "Don't need to dream about you. I got girls lining up to take all nine inches of my fuckin' cock."

This wasn't really an exaggeration. He was known as one of the hottest guys around campus. Mace was also hot, and so they liked to hang out together and get stared at. By both sexes.

They weren't homophobic really; Mace regularly let the little nerdy fox guy check out his muscles, or see his dick, in exchange for doing his homework. He and Rock though of it as a joke, more than anything. And they would never dream of beating up a gay guy-- queers couldn't defend themselves, after all (they assumed), and that would be unfair.

It was one of their private jokes to make gay guys stare at them, though. In the locker room, they would strip off their clothes and flex, seeing who was looking at them and who wasn't. Straight guys looked, too, but it was easy to tell which was which.

One time Mace and Rock had tried an experiment. They took off all their clothes in the locker room after their workout, as usual. But then they'd both gotten erections, their thick, long cocks pointing out at an angle-- Mace's deep red, and Rock's slick ebony. Then they stood very close together, only a few inches apart so that their cocks touched, gazing into each others eyes and talking quietly, as though they were going to kiss or something.

The straight guys didn't pay much attention, but Mace and Rock glanced around and picked out almost a dozen guys who were staring lustfully, trying to be discreet but unable to help themselves.

That had been fun. And it had saved time, since he knew later on who would be doing his homework and cleaning his dorm for him. Not to mention his laundry, his car, and whatever else he didn't feel like doing. His body was like a form of currency for him. And what was easier than showing off for guys who practically worshipped him?

He supposed some people thought he and Rock were gay. They spent all their time together, not to mention their stunts in the locator room. There had also been that party three months ago when they'd both been high, and on a dare they'd kissed for a full minute. It was one of those parties where everyone's either high, or drunk, and it was around four in the morning, so everyone totally laid back. They'd all been sitting in the living room playing truth or dare.

It was the only time he'd ever kissed a guy, but it was just a joke, and it wasn't so bad. At first they'd both been apprehensive about it. And it had been slow at first, very stiff-lipped.

But as their spectators had started laughing and cheering them on, they'd really started to get into it, pressing their bodies tight and hugging. Each slid his tongue into the other's mouth, taking it really wet and deep, just like they imagined two queer guys would. He remembered the feel of Rock's body against his, the shared strength, and the wolven lips. It wasn't any different from when he'd kissed one of his girlfriends. Only it _had_ been different, somehow. He'd started to notice something hard and firm pressing against his thigh... but then the minute was up, the dare was over and they'd unlatched, wiping their mouths and spitting, to the hysterical amusement of everyone else, as though this was the most horrible thing they'd ever done. Only it hadn't been horrible. Not at all.

Back then, they both had girlfriends, and it was all for fun. In Mace's mind, it was a test. He'd never had a close male friend, and sometimes it had made him nervous. He didn't want to be a fag, after all. So he had gone along with the dare, trying to assure himself. If that didn't make him gay, then nothing would. When he and Rock had gotten into it, it actually felt good, but he didn't want to get fucked by him or anything. Later that night he had pounded his girlfriend good, and that felt fucking awesome (pun _definitely_ intended). So he had no more fears of being turned queer.

And so they were close friends. They were great together, in Mace's opinion, even though sometimes they wanted to beat the shit out of each other. It was normal guy stuff. Mace no longer had any fears of getting too close; he still liked pussy, and he wasn't going to start oiling his butt anytime soon.

He smiled at this thought.

"Hey man, I gotta grab a shower quick. I gotta leave early," Rock said, breaking Mace from his memories.

Mace nodded. "Going home?"

"Naw, I've got to help set up a presentation for AP," Rock said, sneering. AP was anatomy and physiology, of course. Unlike Mace, Rock actually had some academic skills of his own.

Mace grinned. "Damn. See you after class?"

"Fuck yeah."

Without another word, Rock walked away to the shower. Meanwhile Mace pulled a clean set of clothes out of his locker, going back to his memories, ignoring the now fully hard, throbbing cock between his legs.