The Guardian

Story by ArgoDD on SoFurry

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#1 of The Gaurdian Series

Joji Barkan is a war veteran, a police officer, the new sheriff for his home town, and he is roaming the streets looking for a prostitute. One in particular

Alex Lamar is a kid living on the streets with a backpack full of condoms, lubricant, and a picture of his dead mother.

They are on a collision course.


The Guardian

By Argo D.D.

He's not there.

Sure Joji didn't expect him to be in the same place he saw him last--five months ago. Still, disappointment shot through his body as he gazed at the dying brush hugging the wall of the old brick building. The place, compared to five months ago, was foreign. It was as if December had come with the boy's absence. The brushes were barren, the sky was covered by overcast, and, of course, there was no Dalmatian leaning against the wall with his intense dark blue eyes pervading through Joji's earthly brown eyes.

Those eyes.

Joji had never seen blue eyes so dark. They were determined, a fervent spirit enclosed in the body of a short, thin Dalmatian teen. His pearly white fur was stained with a hundred tiny black spots sporadically scattered around his muzzle. His ears were black and both his eyes were enclosed between two black patches, which looked like coals. Joji could almost laugh at himself. He'd only looked at the Dalmatian for two seconds and knew then and there that he wanted him, like being hypnotized. And this trance wasn't broken by the words that soon followed.

"He's a menace!"

The words of the curator, that aging warthog with a mole on her cheek, greasy fur, and clothed in a crumpled dress.

"He's too much trouble. No one else could handle him. Why bother?" They had run through Joji's ears, which were pointed like spades, a million times for the past five months. But now, Joji could only chuckle at them. Here he was to take the menace.

The building was far enough down the path that Joji could see the single structure fully in his sight. It was two stories, rectangular, and looked like it had been built in the 1940s. The brick walls were brown with black stained streaks and cement lined the entrance. Above the doorway in the grayish cement etched the words: Kearny Juvenile Center. It looked more like some kind of depository than a foster care center. His hands in his coat pockets, Joji advanced down the snow cleared path toward the building. Despite being born and raised in Louisiana, and having served a few tours in Iraq, he had become quite accustomed to this Midwestern December; even though his snout still needed to adjust to the dryness. He was a mix between a Japanese Akita and a German Shepherd. A Shepkita. His fur was two shades of gray: dark gray on top of his head, ears (and down the rest of his body), and light gray on his muzzle and lower neck (and down his chest and waist). His arms and legs were brawny and his torso formed a muscular "V". Despite being out of the service for a couple of years, he walked with such attentive bearing and stealth that part of him was still combing the streets of Baghdad. It was second nature now. He was in his late twenties, but people often mistaken him as being a bit older. His glance scoured the surroundings for every detail and his snout poised for any sense of encroachers. But all there was here was the flat, empty smell of snow and wet earth. The place looked deserted, even with the couple of cars back in the parking lot. A race of excitement struck his heart as he ascended the stone steps to the entrance. He couldn't understand it. He survived the war (as well as a few other perilous situations that are best left unsaid for now). And he was anxious, almost dreading, to come face-to-face with some kid? But that's how it was.

Joji pushed his way into a hallway that ran right through the center of the building, ending with a window on the opposite side. It was a gloomy place, with its only light coming in from that window. It looked like the hallway of an old school building. A reception desk stood in its center, seemingly out of place. Behind it, a young doe shuffled through papers.

"Hello," said Joji softly, approaching the desk. She looked at him and returned a smile. Joji sensed that she was surprised by his age. A pleasant surprise nonetheless.

"Hello," she said beaming under her breath. "Do you have an appointment mister..."

"Joji Barkan. And yes." His southern accent was crisp and without grit or a twang, and it was warm when it needed to be.

"Are you picking up today?" she asked softly with childlike enthusiasm. Joji nodded and widened his grin. She liked that a lot.

"May I ask who you're taking with you today?"

"Alex Lamar."

The doe's smile disappeared. Joji could've expected that, but not what she said next.

"No one's told you?"

"About what?" The charm on Joji's face faded, but only half. She turned her head to the office door behind her, and then she looked back at Joji and stood up. "I'll be right back with you. Please wait here." Then the young doe scampered through the door. It took her less than a minute before she reemerged and signaled Joji to come over.

"Becky will see you now, Mr. Barkan."

"Thank you."

Crossing paths, Joji spied a quick look at the doe's backside. She was cute, but the nervousness on her face and in her voice was a turn off. He entered the office--the office of the curator, the old warthog with a mole and without taste. Her office was more of a storage room for files with a gray, aluminum desk beside a window. Its only light came from the reflection of the snow outside. She didn't bother to stand when he entered the room or even greet him. She only hung her flappy mouth as if waiting for the right moment to interject him with whatever bad news she held in--and all too willingly.

"Mr. Lamar is gone, Mr. Barkan."

"Gone? Gone where?"

She shrugged and she shuffled some papers on her desk without purpose. "God knows."

"Why didn't you tell me? I drove all the way out here." Joji's voice flared, but he retained himself.

"He must've walked out the night before last. We didn't realize until yesterday morning and it wasn't until that afternoon that we knew he was really gone. We tried to call your house that evening, but the line didn't pick up. We figured the power must've been out so we didn't bother sending you an email either." The warthog's voice was so matter of fact. Joji pinched his palm a bit with his nail as self-punishment. There was a minor snow storm yesterday and the power in his country home did waiver a bit.

"What about my cellphone?"

The warthog paused for a moment. "You never gave it to us." Then she returned to her papers. She acted as if Joji were only half in the room. Joji pressed his nail deeper into his palm. He felt like an idiot for not checking up with the place when he knew the power was going in and out. His mind was in a million places on what to do when he finally brought the kid home that he let down his cardinal rule.

Never let your guard down.

Still, he let his palm have some relief when he thought about the cellphone. He was almost sure that he scratched its number in for them somewhere. And so what that the power was out? He would have gotten the email anyway; then again, only if he checked his computer before leaving that morning, which was unlikely.

"Well aren't you going to try and find him?" Joji spouted. She looked down and rolled her eyes. "He does this all the time and he always comes back for one reason or another." Joji ran his hand across his head and down his neck. He could not believe what he was hearing.

"Comes back later?"

"Yea. For money. For food. For a bath. Eventually he runs out of places...and people...to scrounge from and he comes back." Joji scratched the claws on his feet against the tile floor and tightened his left hand. Still, he was almost wholly ignored by the warthog.

"It'll be a shame when we can't help him anymore," she said flatly. "But that's his choice."

Joji filed his teeth. He'd gotten up at 5am to drive four hours to this place and in the middle of a snow storm, with only the heat in the eyes of that Dalmatian to dry up the snow before him. Now he was gone, and some warthog couldn't give a rat's ass (with apologies to his rat friends who fought beside him in Iraq). The anticipation of the last few months, all the renovating and money saving, was finally coming to an end this morning. Now the only thing in the way was this apathetic warthog and it looked like she was taking a kind of subtle pleasure in it all. She spoke like a kid telling another kid "I told you so" after watching that other kid's sandcastle get washed away by the tide. One could just scratch the surface of those words and find a pile of sneering bullshit.

"That's all you have to say?"

Again, the warthog shrugged. "What else is there to say? That's just how he is." She finally raised her baggy eyes. "I know you wanted him. Now you can see for yourself how much trouble he is."

Joji's nostrils flared and his eyes winced sharply, though nothing moved the old warthog. He couldn't take it anymore, there was a world between the hefty, young Shepkita and the winkled warthog. Joji spun around and started toward the door.

"Where are you going?" He heard her hoarse voice fall flat across the room, though it was the most sincere yet. She stood up. "Mr. Barkan, you're a good man. It'd be unfortunate--an injustice--for such a good, upright man to leave here without someone who really needs his help. Someone who really wants to _be_helped."

"I didn't realize that was a prerequisite to this program," Joji snorted. "I didn't realize you had to want to be helped to get it." ** **

The warthog moved right in front of him, blocking the Shepkita from the doorway.

"That's not what I meant. You have to understand. You're dealing with someone who refuses to be helped. You just can't reach that kind of person. You ought to know. You're a cop aren't you?" She stopped for a moment. "By the way, I heard you're the new sheriff of your county. Congratulations. But you could see the liability of having a kid like that in your shadow. You have to stay elected and..."

She stopped again as she saw Joji's firm muzzle begin to stretch into a tight grin. It was eerie. "I've had enough," he said.

"Mr. Barkan, please. If you'd just look at some of our other kids again, I'm sure you'd..."

Joji raised his hand with such force that it startled the warthog. "Where're his things?" he demanded.

"His things?"

"Yea. His belongings. Where are they?"

The warthog's jaw dropped at the sight of the Shepkita's eyes beginning to bulge. "He took most of what he had with him. Except that." She pointed at a box in the corner. "Just some old clothes. He didn't bother bringing them along." Without hesitation, Joji marched over to the corner, lifted the box, and hulled it to the door.

"What are you doing?" There was a subtle dread in her voice, which threw Joji off a little.

"What you're not." Joji began again for the door, tugging the box along with him. She didn't block him this time.

"How do you expect to find him?"

"How long have you been working here?" he asked. She frowned. "Twenty years. Why?"

"Figures. Locked up in this gloomy place for that long, I guess it'd be easy to get a little hazy with jade."

The warthog opened her mouth, but Joji stormed out. "Why're you being so stubborn with this one?" was the last thing he heard as he headed down the hall and pushed through the entrance. He couldn't help let his grin stretch further across his face as he came back out into the brisk air. The shining snow watered his eyes. Looking out past the parking lot, the city skyline before him looked small.

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

Alex leaned up against a wall squeezed in a dark alley. Night had fallen fast, which was typical for December. But at least there were no Christmas lights to illuminate this street, which was perfect for Alex. He hated Christmas and the flickering neon street lights were all he needed.

It was familiar.

Surrounded by the gloom, the desolation, and the abandonment, he couldn't help but feel at home here. It's mysteries as to what was here before and is now gone made his soul feel settled. It was not the thought of what was here, but that whatever or whoever it was, it was now gone. That is what brought him comfort. It reminded him that he was just a speck in the sand of the world and that he might as well indulge. No matter how bad things got.

"Haven't seen you around," said a hoarse female voice.

Alex looked up to see a female rhino, horn and all, covered by a long, black trench coat which was open to reveal pink short shorts and a bra. She was probably in her forties, but her rough wrinkly skin made her look much older. A female hippo dressed in the exact same clothes joined her side. The hippo was much younger by the looks of her tighter skin.

"Yeah, well I've noticed you," Alex sneered. "Of course that's not too hard." He ran his eyes up and down their bodies. The rhino smiled gravely. "You must be Alex," her breath wreaked of tobacco and contempt. Alex was surprised that she knew his name but he knew better than to give any kind of reaction. "He's so young and tight," said the hippo moving her hands and mouth to simulate oral sex. "No wonder he's stealing our customers."

"Oh shut up you," snorted the Rhino. "It's the prices he's offering." She looked back at Alex, "You really are the biggest whore in the city."

Alex grinned as he inhaled deeply. "I just offer better services. Something you girls don't understand."

"What the fuck you talking about?" the rhino scoffed.

"You girls just never admit it. You don't really know what pleases a guy. That takes firsthand experience." The two enclosed Alex from both sides.

"You do realize that our boss doesn't fuck around with freelance fags taking up all the johns?" scorned the hippo.

"And you do realize that my clients don't take kindly to your boss's second handing? Literally."

"You little bitch!"

Alex wasn't paying attention to which one said it. "You know as well as I do that guys like a little bitch better than two big ones." He expected a slap--or even a punch. Hell, they looked husky enough.

"Hey girls!"

Alex looked through the enormous hippo and rhino to see a stocky panther coming their way. Immediately, the hippo turned to the panther and smiled.

"Scorn! Almost forgot that it was Friday night," said the hippo. The panther wrapped his arms around the large hippo, which didn't go around. "Well you know. The last day of a hard week of labor gets me a little lonely. Err...horny" The hippo squeezed at his abdomen. "So the same as always?"

The panther shook his head. "I'm looking to change things up a little bit."

"What do you mean?" He looked over at the rhino. "Well...you know...we've been going for a while and..." he parted from the hippo and moved toward the rhino. "I just thought maybe with age comes experience." He licked his chops at her. The rhino's eyes betrayed shock as he caressed her breasts.

"How much would that experience cost?"

"I go for about three-hundred," the rhino drawled.

"Damn girl. That's about a hundred more than she usually charges," the panther pointed to the hippo. "Come on. Have some charity for the down-trod."

"I'll go for my usual price!" the hippo said eagerly.

"Bitch, I already know all your tricks. I've had an extra hard week so I'm looking to escape a little...deeper." Then the panther looked at both of them with appraisal. "How much for you two together?"

"You can't be serious," scowled the rhino.

"No, but I bought myself plenty of liquor to make me less serious."

"You're really that desperate?" said the rhino, her voice a little softer. Alex saw on her face that familiar look of fatal realization: the death's mistake of scolding the john.

"Hey! I could save up the money to buy your man's good shit. But each week breaks my balls a little more and I have to get relief immediately."

"So how about it, Scorn?" said the hippo in the perkiest way possible, which took some effort.

"How about seventy-five?" Alex said as he stepped off-the-wall. "I got no rent to pay," Alex beamed. "And no boss to please and..." Alex moved his hand up and down his slender body, "...all the mastery of the male autonomy. I know what you want and I offer it for well below market value."

The panther sneered. "I'm not into boys."

"But you're into fat chicks?"

The panther cocked his head and boomed. "Huh. Kid's got an attitude."

"Hear it all the time," said Alex.

The panther advanced, eying the slender Dalmatian from the waist down, but he starred wearily.

"You bitching?" the panther asked resignedly.

Alex held back from rolling his eyes. "You're paying. Hey, it seventy-five bucks to get trashed on liquor, close your eyes, and pretend it's a girl."

"You got something on you?" the panther scowled. "Remember, it's against the law to lie about that kind of stuff. And I know how...you people... have some problems with that shit." Alex took off his backpack and placed it down between them. "Course I'm clean. I come prepared and washed up." The panther looked at the backpack and looked up at Alex grinningly.

"There's just one condition..." said Alex hesitantly. This was his least favorite part, for it was the part that raised his cost and brought down his street value.

The panther rolled his eyes. "What is it?"

"I spend the night. Nothing more nothing less." For a hooker, it was something that could be even more of a death kiss then scolding the most sensitive john.

"You one of those whores looking for a knight in shining armor? Cause it ain't me. I like mine gone ASAP."

Alex shook his head, his face solid with blankness. "There's no such thing. I just need a place to stay for the night. I'll be gone early in the morning."

"I ain't gay," snorted the panther. "So don't expect me to snuggle with you." Alex felt his body release a little in relief. At least he was still interested.

"Just give me a couple hours of sleep. I don't care what you do to me but... hey...I think it's a pretty good deal for you."

The panther looked at the rhino and at the hippo again with the same kind of appraisal, but nothing flared in him. "Kid's got a point," he conceded.

"We doing this or what?"

The panther nodded.

"Let's go."

Alex picked up his backpack and followed the panther into the street. Behind them, he heard the two screaming.

"Scorn! You're a faggot! A faggot!"

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

What the hell am I doing? It bothered Joji that he didn't take those words seriously.

He'd been driving around the city for almost eight or nine hours and was running on a near empty stomach. He probably covered every street on the east and south side. He combed each lane with his car at about twenty miles an hour.

Am I crazy?

Joji huffed to himself

Of course not. The streets of Fallujah make this little ghetto look like Beverly Hills.

He had heard stories of people breaking into cars and mugging drivers at stoplights. At least they probably wouldn't behead him. The light turned red at the upcoming intersection. He slowly brought the car to a stop. After taking a quick look at the sidewalks to his right and then to his left, Joji picked up the manila file sitting on the passenger seat. He opened it as he lit his cigarette, the lighter in his other hand. Alex's dark blue eyes flickered in the lighter's fire. They almost looked black in the darkness. Joji thought they were bruise marks--really black bruise marks--when he first saw him five months ago. It was the only photo he had of the Dalmatian...and one out of two pictures.

"Why're you being so stubborn about this one?" He's nothing but trouble. Kids like him don't last past twenty five, much less thirty. Kids like him never make anything of themselves, other than some ragdoll for someone else. I've seen it a million times." The old warthog's heavy voice hung over his pointed ears. It was the only other voice he could hear besides his own.

_ _Joji remembered the dozens pups, cubs, kids, and cafes he'd seen hallowed out from RPGs, land mines, and strap bombs. He thought of how they looked right before. He thought of how those few seconds before the explosion were so slow and vivid. Those children were always smiling, usually running as they played. Careless. Even in a desolate hole like every one of Joji's outposts, they could be children, reaching up...up. Then they were cut down in a second, sometimes without so much as a cry to imprint on the world. He looked at the dark blue eyes staring up at him. They looked like they were running too, away from something but also reaching for something. Then he remembered the bodies on the street's he patrolled.

She hasn't seen shit!

Joji dropped the folder back on the passenger seat and lit a cigarette. He puffed a giant cloud of smoke around the car and realized that his pack was almost empty.

I know he'll love you.

Joji sat up. That voice was new, but its warm bayside accent gave away its owner. It was his brother's voice. The light turned green. As he steadily moved the car forward, Joji looked up at the photograph stuck under the sunblind. It was of him and his brother, August. Joji smiled. Then something else caught his eye. He slowed the car to see a skinny cheetah in a heavy hoodie walking down the dim sidewalk. Joji stopped the car, slowly rolled down his window, and placed the tip of his right hand on the gun placed next to his leg.

"Yo!" he called to the cheetah. The cheetah looked up. "Yo! You got a minute?" Joji tried to sound as distinctly country as possible. The cheetah sneered and began hustling toward him. Joji grinned. "That's far enough," he said. The cheetah stopped in his tracks, not by Joji's words but by the sight of the silver police badge in Joji's left hand.

"Don't get so tense," Joji chuckled. "Wanna make a quick buck?" The punk in the young cheetah's face, which couldn't be more than nineteen, evaporated. "Hey, man," the cheetah shuddered. "I...I ain't uh... looking for no trouble...err..."

"Don't talk to me like I'm your homeboy! Speak up like a man!"

"Sorry...sir."

"That's better. It's not you I'm looking for. So don't you worry. But I got twenty bucks here if you can tell me where this kid is." Joji presented in the picture of Alex to the cheetah, grasping his gun as the cheetah approached the car. The kid looked for a good ten seconds. At least he was looking or smart enough to act like he was.

"Yeah...yeah," the cheetah shuddered. "I seen that guy. He's like a..."

"Recently?"

"Yeah man, like ten blocks up the road near an alley somewhere. I just passed there. He was hanging out with this ugly ass rhino and hippo. They looked like a couple of hookers...but I don't do that shit!"

Joji pulled out a twenty dollar bill. "How do I know you're just not trying to take my money?" he snorted. The cheetah reached for it. "Not so hasty."

"Yo. I'm promise I'm telling the truth. My blood."

"Is that all you got for honesty?" Joji huffed.

"Just drive up the next couple blocks and you'll see I'm right."

"Alright." Joji slowly extended his hand and the kid snapped the bill out of it. "You want to know more?" asked the cheetah, a smirk returning to his face.

"Sure." Joji reached down and held up his black gun between his fingers. He didn't point it at the kid, but the cheetah gasped upon seeing it and blurted out almost instinctively.

"Kid's got a number on his head!"

"What are you talking about? A number on his head?"

"Really. The boss in these parts don't like competition for bitching...I-I mean...you know... being around." Joji's earthly browns flared. "He don't need no fresh kid taking up his profits. There."

"What boss? Do you know this guy?"

"Fuck man, I ain't saying that to no cop. What is this? A fucking interrogation?"

"Alright, alright here," he handed the kid another twenty. "But if you do know this guy, let him know that this kid will be off these streets tonight." The cheetah snatched the twenty dollars out of Joji's paw and took off in the other direction.

"I ain't fucking saying I talked to no cop!"

Joji pulled away.

"And don't fucking tell anyone I talked to you!"

Joji looked back up at the picture under the sunblind. Over the years he realized how telling pictures like these were. There he sat wearing his usual plaid flannel shirt, August's arm stretched around his shoulders and his glowing emerald eyes glistening in the camera flash. A wide grin cracked across his brother's scruffy, pinkish muscle. The two of them were sitting outside on a bench in autumn. August's red and pink fur complimented the leaves. He was spread out over the bench carelessly as Joji sat upright. But they smiled together, eyes locked on the lens. Joji sighed in relief and gently pounded his fist against the picture.

Why did you have to walk out so soon, August? I really need you.

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

Scorn--the panther--looked to be in his thirties. The shape of his body suggested that he was once muscular, but now his bones only held up the weight of gaining fat. Still, he had a pretty strong grip as he pulled Alex close, leading him down a dark, broken sidewalk. The panther seemed desperate to stay out of the light, but Alex wasn't nervous. This was routine for most johns, particularly the "straight" ones. Besides, Alex's white fur was quite noticeable in the dark.

"You better keep quiet!" The panther hissed under his breath. His voice was gruff and inarticulate. Alex grinned to himself. Toughies were usually the most fun. So he just shook his head dismissively and kept walking.

Smile and the world smiles back.

They finally arrived at a beaten doorway in the wall of another alley lit by only one small lamp hanging over the door. The panther unlocked the door and shoved Alex into a small narrow stairway. "Get going!" The panther's sharp claws dug into Alex's shoulder. The short Dalmatian complied. They arrived at a landing where the panther opened up the door on the right. His door was chipping green paint and it was narrow enough to look like a closet. Once open, the panther pulled Alex into the room and slammed the door behind them. Then he turned on the light. The room was ungodly small. Its walls and ceiling were brick. The barred window faced another wall on the other side. And there was just this room. The only luxuries were a rusted stove and sink adjacent to the door as well as a small desk near the window that had a small TV placed on it. There was also a little wooden table with one chair placed near the stove. It was covered with liquor bottles and old Chinese food.

Finally, adjacent to the desk was a small bed. Its dirty green covers were crumpled, uneven, and the sides were hanging out. But it was a bed, and Alex had been in worse. He dared not ask the panther where the bathroom was. The wrong words could put a dent in his head. But he was spared the dilemma when the panther said, "Ain't no bathroom in here. You have to go up a couple flats. Everyone shares the same one. It's not exactly clean but...what's a whore care?"

Alex just stared at the bed.

"Don't think about getting too comfortable tonight," the panther chuckled.

"We had a deal."

"I know, but I expect you to be out of here before I wake up. You understand?" Suddenly the panther pulled Alex around, forcing him to look at his empty hazel eyes. "And remember. No snuggling or anything. You got that?"

"Perfectly," said Alex blankly. "You're just a buck to me as I'm a whore to you."

"I'm only doing this because I'm running low on cash." He grilled Alex from head to toe. "And I need something tighter than a flappy hippo."

I'm sure.

Alex huffed as he let off a smug smile. "I got you. And you bought right."

"You talk too much."

"Only when spoken to."

The panther let go of Alex. "Good. Whore knows how to use his brain." The panther slumped over to the wooden table by the stove. He opened a new bottle whiskey and held it up offering it to Alex. Alex shook his head. He never drank, did drugs, or even smoke. He never wanted to lose control--sex being the only exception. The panther put it to his lips and began to gargle it down swiftly. Alex took off his backpack and placed it on the desk. He opened it and took out the things he needed: condoms, a lubricant that was also a disinfectant, an old Walkman with a speaker accessory, CDs, and some spare clothes. He liked his bag because it could fit a lot and not bulge too much. It was a kind of gift from a guy who was running low on cash some time ago.

"You want music?" Alex called over to the panther indifferently. The panther gasped as he took the bottle away from his mouth.

"This ain't a fucking romance."

"Take that as a 'no'." Alex said under his breath.

"I don't need to attract more attention to this place," the panther murmured. "I'm already taking a risk with your squeals."

We'll see about that.

Alex smirked to himself as he turned. The panther stood in front of him again. "I know you're excited, slut. All you Dalmatians are the same. Nippy." Alex rolled his eyes, not facing the panther. "Well don't you worry, bitch. Soon as I'm done here," the panther lifted up his bottle, "we'll skip the foreplay." He took another extended swig.

Gotta love the misplaced pride.

Then Alex went through his jean pockets and took out his wallet and some loose change, placing them beside his backpack. As he did, he suddenly noticed that all-too-familiar crumpled edge of paper hanging out one of his wallet's flaps. He wanted nothing more than to pry it out and stare at it like he used to for hours when he was a pup. Like he still did sometimes. He would not let anything so much as touch that paper, but for some reason he didn't feel like tucking it back into the wallet. He looked at the bed and could hear the panther slurp down his liquor and take deep breaths in between. He thought of the paper...and the picture on it. He thought about how fucking seemed to be the only thing that could take his mind off of it. Alex stepped toward the bed, not understanding what was keeping him from throwing that old picture back into his backpack so he wouldn't have to look at it while letting this panther go down on him.

"You getting ready?" the panther snapped.

Perhaps this john could make him forget it in the face of it. Could it hurt to try? Alex felt his throat bulge and his eyes burn a little.

Later...mom.

"Yea. I'm ready."

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

"Actually I'm looking for someone," Joji said flatly.

"Well, look no further," the hippo said as she rubbed herself against his body. "You found someone."

It didn't take long before Joji found them. They were just a couple of blocks up like the cheetah had said. He was surprised to see them show off their tight, pink shorts and bras through their trench coats in this kind of weather. A backwoods homebound choir boy could get the message. Joji had never seen prostitutes so blatant since leaving New Orleans. Sure there were cases of prostitution in Chemung County, but it was usually just a side gig for some unruly teenager or old junkie. They were all amateurs in Chemung--but not here.

These girls were the real deal, professionals in the real sense of the term. They probably knew all the tricks of avoidance: put a camera in the room and say its porn._Or how to spot an undercover: _beware of the clean cuts and good lookers, as it is odd that they'd need the service. They probably had a pimp to return too. Joji could picture a greasy warthog or some sly reptile He probably takes a little more of their cut each night and always have some excuse.

Not that a pimp needed a good one, as both temperatures were the real enforcer: the cold of the streets (where they'd be permanently without him) and heat within themselves (the rush that gave them power to carry on). But the latter surely would keep them in line; the fix this job provided that kept them anchored here in this alley with the temperature in the teens. No, this cold couldn't put out that heat. That is what Joji saw in the twinkling brown eyes of the hippo, who looked about his age. It wasn't drugs--Joji knew that one all too well--but it was dependence. He squinted a little in the pain. There was an ache in his heart as his Dalmatian's eyes flashed in his mind again. Though the Dalmatian's eyes were not as craving as hers, the same look was there, and it would soon devour the bright fervor in the rest of them.

Unless...

Joji pushed the hippo off as gently as he could refrain himself. He knew that he could misjudge his own strength at times. "I'm looking for someone in particular. So sorry but I can't do business." The hippo glared at him, as did the rhino.

"Soldier boy is touchy," she snickered. She called him that because when he approached she saw the patch on his leather jacket that read: Iraq Veteran. Joji reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out Alex's picture. He held it to her face for a good fifteen second. Her eyes looked in its direction but not at it. Then she started to laugh.

"Look at this!" She called over to the rhino. "I guess the reason they want fags in our army now is because our fag Dalmatian is in such high demand." The rhino heaved, she must have been laughing. Joji smiled and began to chuckle a little with her as he reached into his other pocket and pulled out his police badge.

"Okay," he said keeping his grin. "Why don't we try this again? From the top?"

The hippo's laughter sucked into a deep gasp. "Fuck, he's a cop!"

The rhino began down the alley in the best dash she could muster, lifting her trench coat and grunting with each step. The hippo tried to follow, but she soon found herself shoved against the brick wall by her "soldier boy" Shepkita.

"Get the fuck off me!" she shrieked.

"Not until you..." Suddenly he felt a horrible stinging pain in his eyes. He let out a loud, hoarse scream, but he did not let go and forced his eyes open. His eyes turned as red as a stop light and gushed misty liquid. Realizing what it was, Joji snatched the pepper spray bottle from the hippo and threw it to the ground. The cling it made echoed down the empty alley. There was no one else there. She looked up with terror at the ghastly face of the Shepkita. His eyes and muzzle oozed with mucous, but he kept smiling right at her. He looked like a jack-o'-lantern.

"Did you see him?" he shouted through his coughs.

"Yeah! Yeah! I saw him! Okay?"

"Where?"

"Fuck do I know?"

His snarls became more soggy and strained. "Listen girl! I've been hauling ass around the city all day! But hauling your ass into the station might give me the least bit of satisfaction."

"HERE! He was here!" Her eyes tensed and her voice became heavy in sobs.

"When?"

"I don't..." she stopped herself. "Maybe fifteen or thirty minutes ago. He went off with someone."

"Who?"

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

The panther staggered over to Alex. He threw the bottle down on the planks of the floor, it didn't break, but landed with a loud clunk. It was enough to make a few boards below Alex's feet shake. The panther coughed a few times and used the end of the bed to keep his balance. Then he gestured toward Alex with his pudgy fingers.

"Come-er!" he demanded. This made Alex's heart thump a few times faster and his stomach turn. Nevertheless, the panther's forceful words were a little titillating. He could always find the things to enjoy. Alex walked over to the panther, who towered over him a good two feet. Once he was in the panther's range, the panther snatched Alex's muzzle with his right hand, squeezing his lips into an "O" shape. Alex looked up at his hallow hazel eyes. He was grinning--ghastly--and his eyes were full of hate.

"You know what I'm gonna do?" The panther hissed through his teeth. "I'm gonna tear that fresh face up. And that ass." Alex could feel his knees getting weaker and the nails on his feet scratched at the wooden floor. But he stood his ground.

Give and take. That's how the game works.

Finally, the panther released him. The Dalmatian didn't even raise a hand to rub his sore mouth, but he did take a few steps back.

"Alright...slut," the panther slurred his words. "Get'em off."

They both started taking off their clothes. Alex actually liked this. Perhaps all the straight guys he'd been with made him ambivalent to foreplay. Maybe foreplay just didn't turn him on. But getting his clothes off quickly with his john excited him. He liked getting right down to business so to speak. Alex quickly pulled his hoodie over his head, unbuckled his belt, and dropped his jeans and boxers, his cock bounced out as they slid by it.

The panther took longer, but not a whole lot. Alex finally could get a full look at his body, which was sagging a bit. The panther pulled him over again and pushed Alex down to his knees, his needled cock struck the young Dalmatian on his right cheek. He didn't look up, but the panther's thoughts were as loud as words; words that between every john varied only slightly in this game.

I'm gonna purge that face of yours.

From the corner of his eye Alex could still see the edge of the paper sticking out of his wallet. The panther grabbed his muzzle and forced his nose to the pointed tip of the panther's cock. Alex felt a comfortable numbness over his body.

Please...please...purge all of me!

"Suck it!" snapped the panther. Alex closed his eyes lightly, lowered his jaw, and gently ran the edge of his cool, soft nose from the base of the panther's sheath to the head. He stroked it a few more times back and forth. It was a combination of teasing and making a mental note on length.

Five inches. It'll make my job easier.

This move also gave him the opportunity to take in that aroma that he loved so much. That flat, salty musk that seemed to boil that desire that burned like the blood in him. That desire to be penetrated. Though size wasn't conclusive, Alex hoped it would be enough to satisfy that yearning to be filled with something else.

At least the smell alone was enough to distract him a little and Alex gave the faintest smile as he opened up and brought in the panther's cock. It took a few slow blows, at least five, before the panther started to let out a few groans. It was common for self-proclaimed straight johns to hold off any sign of pleasure from another guy as long as they could. Of course, Alex knew that once the slightest enjoyment was found, it had to be turned into something else. It would become the thrill of being master, least the john found he liked getting sucked off by a guy for the sake of it.

The panther thrust Alex's head inward, bumping the young Dalmatian's snout against his belly. Though his structure wasn't enough to turn Alex off, even if his livelihood didn't depend on it, it wasn't exactly attractive. Still, he liked the taste of the panther's sheath as it slid between his long tongue, which coiled around it, and hit the back of his throat. Alex gagged, it was somewhat exaggerated but not entirely as the needle structure of a feline's cock sometimes threw him off. The panther liked that, which Alex expected.

"That's right...choke on that cock..." the panther purred as he began to thrust Alex's head back and forth. A couple of times Alex had to come up for air, which only intensified the panther's commanding.

"Skull fuck yourself!" This was the climax of the panther's jeering. It made Alex snicker a little through the panther's cock, because that is exactly what he wanted. "A slut who enjoys himself," the panther sneered. "I'll take care of that!" Alex rolled his eye through his closed lids. Suddenly, the panther swiftly grabbed Alex by his shoulders and pulled him back to his feet. Alex slurped as the cock slid out of his mouth. He imagined that he felt the same when he was a pup and someone pulled a lollipop from him.

SHUT UP!!!

Alex's mind screamed. He turned his head to avoid any sight of his wallet. Then the panther shoved Alex onto the bed. Alex fell face first, but before he could get up, he felt the panther's hand force him down onto the yellowish pillow. With the right side of his face pressing against the pillow casing, Alex had full view of the desk, his backpack, his condoms, and his lubricant. A sudden shot of panic went through him. He knew his sucking wasn't nearly enough to lubricant the panther's dick. Though it may be enough where he could still bare it--his tolerance after all was high--the experience would certainly be more painful. But that fright quickly evaporated when his eyes spotted the wallet and the paper sticking out like a flag. That paper. The only photograph Alex had of his mother. His mother, who he found murdered that Christmas Eve when he was almost five.

"You want to fight it slut?"

"No!" Alex snapped through his grinding teeth, his mouth half buried in the pungent pillow. The panther snickered. "You sure? 'Cause I'm gonna tear your ass up."

DO IT! DO IT! SHUT UP AND DO IT!!!

He felt the panther rubbing the tip of his pointed cock around the rim of his ass.

"You want that cock?" he whispered.

Alex felt the panther positioning himself. "Yes!" Alex cried, like a starving man with food being dangled just beyond his reach.

"How bad?"

He felt the panther's muzzle against his ears.

"Just do it!" It was all true. He had to be dominated right now. To surrender. To leave himself. To quench the fire he felt in him. To get his brains fucked out, and with them, all those memories. This was the only control he had at times like these.

"You're so eager. It's kind of a turn off." The panther pulled at Alex's tail, making him grunt. "Guess I'll have to change that. Get ready slut!"

"Ahhhh!" A sharp pain went through Alex as the panther's partially lubricated cock thrust all the way into him at once.

"Errr...fuck...you're so tight!" The panther pressed against Alex's head even harder. He thrust again and Alex moaned. His ears perked with excitement as he heard the bed bang against the wall. The pain was exacerbated by the panther's feline cock, but nothing too unbearable. Then the panther smacked his stomach against Alex's ass as he started a rhythm, which turned to casual humping. It only took a few minutes for the pain to subside. Nature took over and Alex could feel the pain morph into that warm bliss pulsation in his body once it adjusted. Alex closed his eyes and smiled a little, loosing himself in the feeling. Yes...things were beginning to fade.

All he could hear was the panther's detached voice. "Fuck bitch...that's so tight."

Alex murmured.

"Yea, you're enjoying that!" The panther billowed.

"U-huh!

They kept repeating this charade continued for another few minutes, but then the numbing bliss began to retract as well. Alex was quickly loosing excitement as the panther's rhythm became more predictable and more wavering. Perhaps this would be a boring nigh after all. Still, he gave a few signals of satisfaction, because it was best to keep the john from losing confidence.

"You want more?" Immediately the panther began to pick up the pace again. Sometimes he pressed in deep, paused, and pulled back. Alex squinted with each thrust. Then again, Alex spied the wrinkled corner of the old photo. Alex shut his eyes and screamed.

"You promised to tear me up!"

The panther stopped and Alex could feel his icy grayish eyes piercing him in a glare. Then he thrust forward again, nearly hitting Alex's head against the wall.

That's more like it.

Alex gasped deeply and heard the panther snicker. The panther pushed again with even more force, and then again. He kept pressing the side of Alex's head against the pillow. He was in complete control now. The best kind of control. The only control Alex would ever give over himself. The thoughts were leaving and Alex couldn't help but smirk drunkenly.

"Still enjoying it?" The panther demanded, as if out of frustration. It was enough wipe the smirk off Alex's face.

The panther followed up by driving in harder and deeper. Alex began to make other sounds not out of enjoyment or pain, but sounds to distract himself...from an oncoming fear. He felt the panther's body slowly close down on him, matted black fur rubbed against his own like a heavy night wave. Alex's nose twitched at the smell of liquor on the panther's breath. It was cleaning him, his thoughts were lapsing. Only fear...only fear remained as he felt the pillow enclosing his nostrils. He tried to move but the panther held him down. Only small pockets of air were getting through to Alex's snout, which was sinking deeper into the pillow. Part of him wanted to scream--if he even could. The other wanted to accept it and to fade out.

Suddenly, there was a pop of something banging. At first, Alex thought something had hit the floor. But with the panther pushing his head further and further into the pillow, he couldn't move to see what was going on. All of a sudden the panther pulled out with such speed that it made Alex gasp--with relief. He looked behind to find the panther on his knees with a brawny, gray canine clutching him by the neck. Then the canine sent his fist across the panther's face, and another. Each blow was quick, crisp, and carried equal force. It only took about four strikes before the panther was lying facedown on the floor, coiling and moaning in pain. Alex might have cracked a grin or even a smirk if his seventy-five bucks wasn't on the line.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he shouted.

The gray canine only stared down at the panther in silent triumph. Then he turned and fixed his brown eyes on Alex. Alex was not emotionless. He prompted his body up on the bed and repeated, "Who the fuck are you?"

"Come on, man," pleaded the panther staggering to his feet, "he's well worth the wait." The canine sent the edge of his foot into the panther's stomach, causing the black beast to billow back down to the floor. Then the canine returned his glance to Alex.

Joji took in the dark blue eyes he'd only seen once firsthand before. Never in a million years would the panther have known what the brawny Shepkita was thinking.

I know.

Joji dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out his badge. "Oh fuck!" squealed the panther who began to crawl against the wooden floor. "Shut up!" Joji shouted at the panther, but keeping his eyes locked on Alex. The young Dalmatian only glared at him in return.

"Get dressed. We're leaving."

"The fuck I am!" Alex snapped. "This is totally legal. I'm of age."

Joji smirked. "But prostitution isn't. So get dressed. We're leaving."

Alex had never seen anyone so determined. His voice made Alex's senses tingle and his body convulse, as if it had no choice but to obey. Looking at the panther squirm on the ground, the Dalmatian got up, picked up his clothes, and started dressing. Joji turned his back curiously and chuckled to himself.

What's the point? I've already seen him with his pants down.

He just faced the panther who kept pleading. "Come on, man. Gimme me a break. What you gonna do to me?" Joji didn't answer. Hearing the Dalmatian gather his things, he turned and seized Alex by his shoulders and led him out the door, but not before sending one last foot into the panther's chin.

"Fucking let go of me?" Alex shouted as Joji pushed him down the flat stairs. "Just keep moving." Alex looked down the stairs towards the exit door. Alex could make out that the canine, with his faintly curved eyes and gray fur, was a Japanese breed. Perhaps an Akita with some shepherd in him, a Shepkita as Alex could remember them being called. Either or, they're very aggressive dogs, so Alex braced himself for a fast and long bolt once they passed the doorway. As soon as they were out, Alex thought, he would take the first chance to go running off. He'd never been in much trouble with the cops before--oddly enough--but what difference would it make? He could out run this guy. Speed was one physical attribute he knew he had on his side.

They passed through the doorway and Alex felt the Shepkita's firm hand let go. But before Alex could dart down the sidewalk, his short slender body was deflected off a torso of steel, covered in fur and flesh. His eyes revealed a chest covered by a ripped wife beater, then the hollow yellow eyes of a Rottweiler glaring down at him with a grim smile. The Rottweiler was then joined by two others. A Doberman with scars on the big Rottweiler's left and another, thinner Rottweiler on his right. The three formed a triangle in front of the doorway.

"This is the little bitch!" The big Rottweiler boomed. The Doberman began to clutch his paws. The smaller Rottweiler interjected with a wheezy voice. "It's good to have some fun on the job once in a while!" Alex froze as he saw the smaller Rottweiler pull a knife out of his ripped jean jacket and the Doberman begin to undo his jeans. With that, the young Dalmatian turned back to the door, only to run head-on into the hefty Shepkita.

Holy fuck!

The Shepkita looked down at him somberly with his earthly brown eyes. Alex's is dark blues were teary.

"Please don't do this to me..." Alex begged under his breath. "Please." The gray Shepkita stood there coldly. Alex couldn't understand why he pleaded with the Shepkita. Everything looked to be standing still, as if all existence was between him and this stranger. He was probably with them. He was no cop. Hell, Alex knew that from the start. Why else didn't he arrest the panther? Why did he have the wrong kind of badge? But something about the Shepkita's firm and tender brown eyes seemed to give the answer.

"Don't let them do this..."

No sooner had the young Dalmatian spoke did the Shepkita bolt from his spot. Alex ducked down, throwing his head into his arms, cowering in a ball on the ground. He heard the scuffling of beating. But he felt no pain. Mustering all the bravery he could he dare, he began to raise his head from his arms. The Shepkita was no longer in front of him and he quickly turned to find the gray stranger clutching the small Rottweiler by the arm, blocking the knife, and using him like a sandbag to knock out the Doberman who was charging at him. The smaller Rottweiler fell like a bag and the Doberman staggered a little but was taken out by the Shepkita's foot.

Then it was just him and the big Rottweiler.

Everything was so quick. They barely even looked at each other. The Shepkita was disproportionately shorter than the Rottweiler, but by no means helpless. He charged head-on into the Rottweiler's body, blocking a punch just enough for if to graze the edge of his snout and plowed his own fist into the Rottweiler's abdomen. The Rottweiler grunted but followed up with a knee into the Shepkita's thigh. But the Shepkita did not stop as he sent one more punch with his left fist into the Rottweiler's abdomen and in quick succession another into his lower jaw. The Shepkita was so fluid. He was like a machine that could deliver each blow with the same amount of force each time, all while calculating the Rottweiler's moves like a built-in computer. It was as if the punches and kicks came naturally. Alex fell back onto his hands and his jaw dropped. This was his chance to run, but for some reason he remained anchored. This Shepkita was fighting three brutes...for him.

Suddenly he saw the Doberman begin to stir. Without hesitation, Alex got up and sent his own foot into the Doberman's cranium, knocking him out cold. It was only after the fact that he realized that something came over him. He looked back up at the Shepkita, who was waning a little but not as much as the Rottweiler, whose blows became the more infrequent and with less force.

"Enough!"

And like a stubborn pup, Alex marched over to a trashcan, picked up the lid and proceeded to dent it over the Rottweiler's head. No sooner did the Rottweiler fall the ground did the thinner one begin to rise. He was reaching for his knife. Joji turned swiftly, pulled out a black handgun, and aimed it squarely at the Rottweiler's head.

"Don't even think about it!" Joji said through his teeth. The Rottweiler surrendered the knife to the ground. Not taking his eyes off, Joji backed up slowly.

"Come on...Alex. Unless you want their friends to get here first."

How does he...fuck it!

Alex figured it would be better to deal with one creep than eight, especially one that just saved his life. Once they were out of the alley, the Shepkita grabbed Alex by the elbow and pulled him down the sidewalk towards a car, which was only a block down.

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

"You did good kid," Joji lauded as he adjusted the gear.

"You still didn't answer my question?" Alex scolded as he scuffled into the passenger seat. He was hesitant about getting into the Shepkita's car, but more hesitant about sticking around this place.

"What?"

"Who the fuck are you? How do you know my name? How did you...You ain't no cop."

Joji took off down the road. "Yeah? Why do you think that?"

"Because cops here don't have silver badges. They're copper and they're shaped differently." Joji turned his head to Alex. The young Dalmatian was leaning forward with his sharp blue eyes demanding an answer. Joji grinned widely. "Clever kid," he said ruffling the fur between Alex's ears.

"Fucking get off me!" Alex struck Joji's hand away.

The Shepkita beamed at him. He was young, perhaps in his late twenties. "I knew I made the best choice." But he talked like he was much older.

"If you're looking to fuck, you'll be paying triple after the shit you pulled back there."

Joji's grin sake immediately. "You mean saving your life?"

Alex was struck silent.

"Shut it for two seconds, will ya?" the Shepkita continued. "And calm your hormones, kid. Don't talk to me like that. I've been driving around this city for hours looking for you. So just give me a few seconds to take in that you're safe."

"Who the fuck are..."

"--Enough! Your foster families might've let you get out of line like that. But not me."

"What the fu--."

"Epp!"

"What are you talking about? Tell me what you want!"

The Shepkita smiled again. "My name is Joji. J-O-J-I. I'm part of a new program. I take you know about Foster to Freedom." Alex's mouth dried and his eyes widened in rage and wonder. Foster to Freedom was a program that placed older orphans getting too old to be kept in the system to be placed with someone for "rigorous training for making it in the real world" or at least that is what it said on the packet Alex got when he was told that his age made him an automatic candidate for the program. He threw it away instantly and didn't think of it a bit until a couple of days ago when that old warthog told him that someone was interested in him and would be picking him up soon. She might as well have shouted for him to grab his things and hightail it out of her problems--and she must have known it.

"You're not my fucking new ball and chain!" he shrieked.

"You're what?"

"Ball and chain! No one would drive around the city looking for some orphan kid. So what do you want?" Alex locked his eyes on Joji's .

"I did," the Shepkita said softly. "I did in order to bring you home. On a more permanent basis, of course." Then he reached down between the seats and pulled out a folder and handed it to Alex.

"It's your file."

Alex snatched it and flew it open.

"And your clothes and the stuff you left at the center are in the trunk." Alex was dumb silent. Joji yawned deeply. "I live about four hours west."

"No!" Alex gasped as he peered through the file and saw tucked away in its corner a packet with the words Foster to Freedom over it in bold black font. It was exactly like the packet he threw away, returning to him like a ghost. "Don't you think about it!"

"I can't drive at this hour," said the Shepkita unmoved. "So I think we'll stop at a hotel."

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

When they got up to the hotel room, Joji was still fuming at the way the counter clerk looked at them when he asked for a room with one bed. He pushed Alex through the door and closed it behind them. He had deliberately chosen a room two stories up. Alex threw his things down on the table in the corner, and then turned his flaring dark eyes to the Shepkita, who smirked in return.

"Don't think about running off," the Shepkita said as he took the chair from the table, carried it over to the door, and plopped it down in front of the door. "I'm a patient dog." The Shepkita sat down in the chair. Alex looked around the room and then back at Joji.

"We'll see about that," said the Dalmatian under his breath.

Joji shook his head. "Sometime I'll tell you about when I waited three days in a foxhole and living off..."

"--I'm not talking about that." Alex interjected.

"Oh."

Alex raised his eyes, stretching back the fur on his blank face. "Don't make me think you're that innocent...or heroic," he said coldly to the hefty Shepkita. "I know why you really brought me here."

"I know. I told you."

Alex snickered. "You're some kind of foster care raider. I find it a little strange that you would go through all this trouble but...hey...Maybe you're just into teenaged Dalmatians. I can't blame you? We're harder to come by these days."

"That all you ever think about?" Joji sparked. "That'll have to change, too."

"Don't count on it and I don't count on you. You'll break... they all do."

Joji felt his heart lowly murmur by those words. His face stern with temperance, he nodded his headed towards the bathroom. "You better wash up, kid. God knows with that asswipe was caring on him." Alex huffed. "I've slept with worse."

"And I don't care to know about it," said Joji. "I'm sleeping here tonight." He leaned the chair against the wall. "If you don't want to shower, fine. Just get some sleep. We have a four hour drive in the morning, so just toss me a pillow." Alex sat on the corner of the bed. His face began to lighten, but with only the small room lamp shining on him, Joji couldn't tell the kid's expression, though his eyes pierced through to him like a laser. "I sleep naked," the Dalmaition said softly, with a faint lisp. "I hope you won't mind."

"We're guys," said Joji dismissively but still staring. Alex stood up in front of the Shepkita. He slowly took off his hoodie and shirt. Then he unbuckled his belt, undid his jeans, unzipped the zipper, and let his pants fall to the ground. He looked up at Joji who was still stared unabashedly like a stone bust.

Good.

Then Alex pulled down his boxers, allowing his tail and thickening cock to plop out. Alex straightened up and ran his paws through the fur on his chest and rubbed the back of his neck. "Save the show kid and get to bed. Don't think I haven't seen it before."

"But I have something you haven't had before."

"Not happening, kid. I'm straight."

"So are my clients. That doesn't stop them from paying up for me to wrap around their cock. Whether it's my mouth...or ass."

Joji rubbed his eyes. "Come on, Alex. I don't have time for this."

"I've never been with an Akita before. Or Shepkita or something. I hear they're pretty rough...and I'm curious. And you're not a bad looking one yourself. How about this one free night? You do whatever you want to me--whatever--and tomorrow morning I'm free?"

Joji looked up. "What do you know about freedom?" he hissed in a way that chilled the room. There was a kind of choke in it. "No more games. Get to bed."

With a sudden snap, Alex pulled the comforter and covers off the bed and slowly lowed himself onto the white sheets, stretching his slender figure across the mattress. "It's already pretty warm in here. I think I'll sleep above the sheets, if you don't mind."

Joji shook his head coolly. "Just throw me a pillow." Alex tossed one over. Then he picked up another and squeezed it hard against his body. "My stamina is pretty good. Whenever you're ready." Alex kept the faint lisp in his voice. The Shepkita just put the pillow behind his head and leaned back in the chair against the door. But still, his eyes didn't leave Alex.

The young Dalmatian began to pull at the covers and rub himself against their silky smoothness. As he slowly and rhythmically grinded against the mattress, he panted. He nipped at the sides of the pillow as he caressed it. His firm, smooth cock grew thicker and redder.

He does know how to work his body, Joji forced himself to admit. The teen's body moved with such aggression and control and his mocking glance showed he knew it. Joji didn't move nor did he take his eyes off him. The show went on, but the Shepkita sat steadfast until Alex fell asleep.

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

Only when the Dalmatian was finally still, did Joji move his eyes to the clock on the nightstand. It was 2:33 am in green font. Then when he was sure that Alex was heavenly unconscious, Joji stood up, seized the covers that Alex pulled off and gently spread them over the young Dalmatian's slender form. He tucked the ends of the sheets around Alex's chest and gently ruffled the pillows. The lamp was still on, its rays turning the white sheets into an odd yellowish glow. Joji move his seat and placed it beside the bed. He panned the frame of the body in front of him and a smile returned to his face.

He's finally here.

Then he reached into his coat pocket and wallet, from which he pulled out a small piece of paper he'd been carrying with him for the past five months. It was a sketch he made of the mysterious Dalmatian with the stained white fur and the sharp glance of blue. Joji remembered quickly sketching it the day after he first got back from Kearny Center. He engraved the feeling of that moment in that piece of paper forever.

Now he's here.

Joji needed to capture this one. He reached over and picked up from the lampstand a conveniently placed pad. He pulled a pencil from his pocket and sharpened it at the end of his razor teeth. The lighting wasn't best but it would do. Joji locked his eyes on the sleeping Dalmatian as he put the tip of the pencil to the paper. The muse seized his hand and he began to scratch the image before him onto the pad.

Being a skill almost ten years developed, it only took him about twenty minutes to finish. When he was done, Joji blew off the particles and looked at what he had made, holding it to Alex's unconscious face. He chuckled to himself. It was perfect. The face before him was the same as the face he made out of lead marks. Even at rest, it was so sharply determined and focused. It's eyes heavy but not dull. The eyes were the most important feature to Joji in any project. He moved to the ears, which were curved and smooth but attentive. Then to the kid's angular snout, which resembled a powerful weapon. That he panned crossed the rest of the image. The Dalmatian's slender form gently clasped at the sheets, engulfing them in his relaxed control. He loved every inch of him. He captured every inch.

Joji let out a sigh of satisfaction and fulfillment, as he always did when he finished a drawing. But this was a special relief. Joji stood up from the chair and placed the pad back on the lampstand. He looked at Alex and shook his head as he realized how accurate and precise his skill had become. What started as something to pass the time in Iraq, sitting for hours between movements, had become a kind of obsession. It was an indulgence Joji allowed himself in the solitude of his own privacy. Only a few knew about it, his brother August for one, but no one in his hometown--the county that had just elected him as its sheriff. Few, he thought, would have expected that he'd have an artistic side, apart from banging his drum set around at the station's Christmas party. But this it wasn't like him and he himself was surprised that he was actually good. In fact, he used to think his habit of sketching would die out when his active duty ended and he returned to the states. But the stillness of his new Midwestern home only intensified the desire and he soon found himself spending long night hours sketching on whatever paper he could find in the dark silence of his living room. The sketches were of people mostly. Occasionally, he'd look them over again and realize how good he was becoming. Joji felt he could capture a soul with a pencil, especially the way he'd draw the eyes. But pencil could only reveal so much, so he began painting; buying the supplies in the next county where no one had known him.

Joji went over to the backpack on the table. Without hesitation he opened it. He pulled out its contents and threw the condoms and lubricant to the side in disgust. It was all automatic, there was no real desire to go into the kid's stuff, what difference would it make? But it was an impulse Joji had when thoughts like these would come up. He just needed to do something. He found a new pair of jeans and a couple of shirts, socks, and underwear as well as some toiletries. Joji was somewhat impressed to find an old Walkman and speaker accessory tucked at the bottom. When he emptied the bag, he flipped it on the side and made a mental note of its size and compartment space. Then Joji picked up the clothes Alex had dropped to the floor. First he emptied Alex's jean pockets and found a wallet and some loose change. Once in the light, Joji noticed something sticking out of the wallet. It was the edge of a photograph. Joji pulled it out and saw the face of Michaela Lamar--Alex's mother.

Joji remembered her well; though this was the first time he'd seen her face. Over a decade ago, she was a twenty-six single mother. She'd had a bit of a history but seemed to have cleaned up a little with the birth of her son. Still, being a confirmed wanderer, even with her son, she never stayed in one spot for more than six months. That was until Christmas of one year she found herself in a small town in upstate New York. Though she spent the first week in a small apartment, she became the guest of a local guy with a cabin home in the nearby woods. It was there, on Christmas Eve, that police found her body. Her host had raped her, butchered her, and strangled her with Christmas lights. When police entered the house, along with the grisly site, they found a soon to be five year old Dalmatian pup (his birthday was in January), clutching the mangled body of his mother and trying to keep her eyes open.

Joji walked over to Alex, who was still clutching the covers in his deep sleep. Some of the story was in his file, the rest Joji looked up on his own. Joji nestled his nose around the curves of Alex's ears and said in the faintest whisper, "Sleep in. Your safe now. I'll make sure. For now on, I'm your protector. That's my job." The image of his own brother quickly flashed his mind. "It's always been my job."

Then he softly placed the edge of his lips on Alex's forehead.

"I love you."

He proceeded to slowly licked at Alex's fur. Though it had a musky and somewhat bitter taste, Joji brought in an aroma that filled his snout and heart with a warm, numbing bliss in the pit of his torso.

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

10:16am.

When Alex woke, he saw the bright white walls and the green numbers of the clock. He smelled the fresh sheets and heard the purr of a coffee maker. He felt soft, thin white sheets snug against his slender body. It was then that Alex knew that he didn't pass out back at the panther's apartment. That it all wasn't just a dream while sedated from the panther's violent thrusts.

Then he heard another, unsettling sound. It was some kind of chant, but it was high, rapid, and full of phlegm from the back of very wet throat, which made it unnerving because it was strangely arousing. It didn't take long before Alex realized it was Arabic, and it was pronounced with such fluidity that it sounded like it could've come from a native speaker. Then he saw the Shepkita on his knees, facing the widow with lines of sunrise falling on his body. He knelt on a black and bluish carpet, which had some kind of swerving design that Alex couldn't make out. His chanting vibrated the room. The Shepkita was so poised and so relaxed as his body settled against his toes. Alex wondered how his legs weren't crushing from under his muscular torso. Then the Shepkita sprung and fell prostrate on the ground, his hands, forehead, and nose pressed against the carpet. His body did shutter a little as he did so, and Alex could sense a rod of pain sting through the muscles of the Shepkita as they flexed a little. Admitting that he was pretty good eye candy, especially when bent over, caused Alex to feel even more scorn for him. Of all his possible captors, his had to have a nice ass and draw him in closer and closer by strange sights like this. The thought of staying there willingly, even for a minute to see this, made Alex clutch his fists.

Suddenly, the bed creaked beneath Alex's legs.

"Allahu Akbar!"

The Shepkita stirred, his pointed ears twitched in Alex's direction, and he began to rise. Alex snapped back into his laying position as quick as he could. But it was too late, as he could hear the Shepkita chuckling.

Joji pulled the sheets off Alex, who groaned and curled his naked body.

"Rise and shine my sleeping beauty."

Alex held himself closer.

"Come on kid," boomed the Shepkita. "You weren't this shy last night." The young Dalmatian forced his eyes open, and it pleased Joji to see those blues again. As he sat up, Alex glared at the Shepkita, making out a few more features. The guy was wearing a wife-beater stretched tight across his strapping chest. He had a tattoo of Arabic writing around his left arm as well as another on his left breast partially covered by his shirt--an Asian character of some kind. And he was still grinning at him in that mocking way that made Alex's blood boil. It was that look that seemed to know that Alex wouldn't mind delaying his escape just to see what this weird--and cute--stranger would do next.

"You're a Muslim, too?" Alex snorted. Joji laughed, "No. I'm Catholic." He turned and presented to Alex another tattoo on his right shoulder that looked like something written in Latin. PAX VOBISCUM. Joji picked up the carpet and rolled it up. "I just do this as a favor for..." he paused. "For a friend." The Shepkita shook his head and as he gently placed the carpet on the table beside Alex's back pack. "Anyway, you slept in, kid. But we really have to get going," Joji said as he gathered his white sweater and leather jacket. Alex didn't move. His anger finally poisoned the rest of his enchantment because that was clearly out of the question.

"You are coming aren't you?"

"Of course not! You're not forcing me to go anywhere! Especially not with you, you freak!"

Joji stopped and looked at the bitter Dalmatian. There looked to be a sign of defeat in the Shepkita's face, which was good for Alex. But the expression changed and looked to be just beckoning for Alex to continue, as if it'd be amusing for him to do so.

"You pulled me into your car, brought me here, and forced me to sleep here with you pressed against the door. I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but you can't do this to me! I don't care if you really are a cop, a foster, or just some fuck face whose gotta sick way of getting ass from younger--"

"Watch your mouth, mister!" The rumble in the Shepkita's voice silenced Alex immediately. It was kind of a nervous reaction for the Dalmatian, he was after all so used to letting his johns at least think they had that kind of power over him. Still, Alex fumed at the fact that this Shepkita could take advantage of that too.

"I think you at least owe me a night with you after saving your life," the Shepkita said coldly. "Plus, I spent all day looking for you. What if I decided to put it off till tomorrow? Then where'd you be?"

Alex looked down at the crumpled sheets. "Well...if I do, then my debt has been paid. Now let me go!" Joji moved closer to the door. "You're not gonna keep me here out of guilt!" Alex shouted. Joji grinned again. "Of course not. I didn't expect to. The harder I pull, the harder you'll pull back." Alex's mouth hung, but no words could pass the way that the Shepkita looked at him. He couldn't tell if it was out of lust or some other strange emotion, and he didn't care to pry at it. Still, the Shepkita knew how to keep an audience.

"And you're right, Alex. I can't keep you forever because I saved your life once...or by pinning you down. But I do ask for just a few more minutes of your attention."

Alex slumped. He'd been naked before so many guys, but had never felt exposed. "Stop doing that!" The Dalmatian convulsed.

"What?"

"I don't know. Talking like that! Looking at me like that!" Alex felt his tail twitch at the way the Shepkita slowly advanced toward him, his head leaning ahead of his body, as if he knew exactly what Alex was talking about. He jumped out of the bed and met the Shepkita half way. "Stop trying to rope me in!"

"Okay, Alex. Okay. But at least entertain my option for a second. I know you will, because I know what you want." Alex couldn't help but incline his head and perk his ears. "What could you possibly know about me?" The question seemed useless to Alex as the Shepkita seemed to know too much, especially the way he grinned with his curling lips faintly revealing his pointed teeth.

"Independence."

Alex tried to shake off the effect with a snort. "Well I'm not getting much of that with you."

Joji shook his head as he continued his steady advance. "Am I wrong? I saw it the first time I saw you five months ago." Alex backed up. "It's something I respect," the Shepkita continued. "And admire in you, because I know that feeling more than anything." Then Joji's hand encompassed Alex's slender shoulder. "And I know what it is like to have no foundation."

"Knock it off!" Alex smacked Joji's hand away and turned toward the window. The white light burned his tired eyes.

"But you're never gonna be by whoring yourself around to every flee trap with a hundred in his pocket." Alex could feel the Shepkita's hot breath against his neck, the vibration in his voice made him quiver. Again he tried to snap his body away, but he was pulled back by the Shepkita's hand.

"Alex... I don't care what you think, but you're not free."

"Haven't you heard of a trade?" Alex snapped. The light was blinding.

"That's not a trade, kid. Not for you?" The Shepkita's voice was getting softer and sharper.

"It's none of your business."

"You've gotta stop."

"No!"

"Stop sacrificing the best of you to the worst of you!"

"Why don't--" Alex was stopped midsentence as he felt the Shepkita twirl him around. Their eyes met. Those sharp brown eyes made him feel as naked as ever.

"Alex, as long as you keep giving yourself in, you'll always be what you are now. A bitch. A bitch to this place."

Alex tore himself from between Joji's hands. "If you're not gonna fuck me, stop touching me!"

That seemed to silence the Shepkita and there was hurt on his face. After a few seconds standing there still, the Shepkita turned and walked into the bathroom. For a moment, Alex thought he had humbled the big gray dog after all. But he reemerged with a navy bathrobe. "You look like you're getting cold," he said as he covered Alex's body. Alex sighed. It was nice to get out of the cold. The Shepkita returned to his position in front of Alex, looking down at him with dead on precision.

"One year. Gimme one year, kid."

"For what?"

"Do the program. Come home with me. You can finish up your GED there. I've looked at your marks and you could even finish early. I'll get you a job, and you can keep every penny you earn. Plus, I'll teach you everything I can to make you useful to yourself. You'll be under my eye, but I know I won't be the most demanding foster you've ever had. Think about it, a whole year without having to wonder where you're next meal will come from or warm spot will be. And when the year is out, you'll be free to go...if you want. But no matter what, I promise you'll leave with enough skills so that you'll never be out on the streets again. No matter what...you choose to do."

Alex slowly shook his head.

"Come on, kid. Give me a chance."

Giveme a chance? That's weird.

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Well...I already know you've pretty superstitious," he said batting his eyes toward the carpet on the table. "But I'm not stupid. I know that nobody would drive around a city looking for one street whore because you liked how they looked or their grades."

Joji nodded.

"So how do you know what the best in me is? Sure, there may be a little more to me than meets the eye. But everyone is like that. Tell me, why is it that of all the other breeders you could've gone after I happen to be the one you won't leave alone?"

Joji lowered his head and shrugged conceding.

"Then how can I trust you?"

Joji's head rose with determination and he slowly began backward. "Kid, I don't know everything. But I know what I saw in you and I have faith that I will find out what it really was." Their eyes didn't part. Then Joji stepped toward the door. "My time is up. Now it's your turn."

"For what?"

"To make a move." Joji slowly opened the door.

Alex turned and looked out the window. The snow had come back and it was picking up fast. "They'll suffocate you, Alex," hissed the Shepkita. "Like that panther tried to do to you."

Alex squeezed his eyes together. His breath stopped as he thought of the crushing feeling of the pillow. He rotated, glancing over at the table, but away from the Shepkita. Then he noticed that his backpack was unzipped and the condoms, toiletries, and CDs placed neatly at its side. "You went through my things," Alex hissed softly. Then he saw his mother's picture laid symmetrically beside the table's edges.

"YOU ASSHOLE!!!" Alex darted to the table and snatched the picture from its corner. He held it close to his chest, pivoting away from Joji like an addict clutching his last fix. "YOU FUCKER!!! YOU COULD HAVE DESTROYED IT!!!" Alex shouted a few more things he couldn't even hear himself shout, but he stopped when he saw the Shepkita lower his head. It was something he'd never seen a guy his size do.

"No Alex, you're right," Joji whimpered. "I have no right." Then he walked over to the chair he'd been sitting on last night, which had his black leather jacket spread over it. He picked up a piece of paper laying on the jacket and handed it to Alex.

"But I couldn't help but be inspired."

Alex snatched the paper from the Shepkita's hand. He gazed at it and saw himself shaped in lines of pencil with his arms violently clutching the covers; his face so relaxed and so eager.

It was a good drawing. A great one.

But when he looked towards the corner, he saw a pair of eyes and dark hair draping over his body: watching him. They were the eyes of his mother. It was the first image of her other than that photo that he'd seen since he was five. She was alive.

He looked up into the Shepkita's face. It was the same face he saw last night.

The one that told him it was alright and that he could trust him.

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

The drive was ice silent, it made the AC useless.

Alex looked at the city behind them in the side mirror until the tops of the tallest buildings disappeared behind the empty horizon of the plains. The entire flat countryside was covered in snow. Occasionally a breeze blew the snow like sand. It was a white desert.

After over an hour, the silence was finally broken, though it was very one sided. Joji talked about himself mostly. That he was from New Orleans, Louisiana. His father owned a few casinos. His half-sister Helen owned a music production company. And, of course, that his half-brother, August Laflure, was the lead guitarist for The Highways Band. This last thing was all that seemed in the least bit to stir the attention of young Dalmatian, who sat cross-armed and looking out the window for the entire ride. Joji continued with a little bit about his tours in Iraq, his honorable discharged, and his eventual move to Chemung County. Finally, that he was recently elected sheriff for Chemung, making him one of the youngest sheriffs in the country. Alex didn't move. All he could think about was how much he despised the countryside. It always looked dead around him.

Finally they passed into Joji's home state. "Just so you know," Joji said. "The age of consent is hirer in this state. So no going around."

"What'd you expect from Hicks?" sneered Alex. It was all he said the entire ride. Joji chuckled gravely. It took another hour before they crossed into Chemung County. To Alex the only sign of civilization were oil refineries popping up out of the white plains.

"Those are new additions," Joji announced as he pointed to them. "Our county's becoming a center for energy. And the population is growing. I wanted to be sheriff to meet the new needs of law enforcement before we are swallowed up by hold habits in a new setting." Still Alex leaned his head up against the window, avoiding the Shepkita. "There are four main towns in Chemung. Main, Lafayette, Burnings, and Mayfield. That's where you'll be going to school."

It was just after four when they pulled up to Joji's house. It was a blue, two-story building with the porch just off the road and with an expansive prairie behind it. An island. Once inside, Alex had to admit to himself that the place was rather cozy. It had a nice living room with paintings and scented candles. The room was jointed next to a kitchen with a bar counter. There was also a porch outback, which looked out into the wide prairie. But Alex would never concede anything to the Shepkita. Joji proceeded to show Alex to his room where they unpacked his things. The silence between them wasn't broken even through dinner. At about quarter to seven, Alex went upstairs and disappeared from sight.

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

1:52am.

Joji woke up screaming. It was the same nightmare; the one of him being buried alive and crushed under soil, concrete, and steel. There was pitch blackness except for a tiny light like a star. His paws were shaking, his heart racing, and his tongue throbbing. As the sound of his deep breaths receded he heard something else.

It was a piano playing.

The tune was somber and unsettling and Joji recognized it immediately. It was Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. It was muffled by distance and Joji's heart continued to race as it faintly played. But he got up, through on a pair of shorts and a shirt, staggered into the hall, and descended the stairs. A light was coming from the kitchen. The sound was coming from the basement and was as loud as ever. It was all the more disquieting as to how masterfully it was played, every note struck with such precision and played together with fluid articulation. As Joji creaked the basement door open, the sound rushed out like hot air escaping.

He went down the stairs and sure enough found the Dalmatian. He was sitting at the old piano Joji's sister Helen had given him when he moved into the house. Alex did not look up, he only stared at the keys and slightly swayed his head right to left. His fingers move like a machine but his eyes were emotionless. Joji couldn't help but let a chuckle break his muzzle.

He's playing without effort.

Suddenly Alex jumped up and gasped. He glared at Joji, who was still smiling

"You scared the shit out of me!"

"Keep playing!" Joji exclaimed. "You play beautifully." At first Alex didn't move, only locking his glare on the Shepkita. But as the moments grew longer, he thought he'd break the awkward stillness. Alex sat back down and stretched his fingers over the keys. "Happens when you have a lot of time to not fuck around," he returned.

Joji's face sank a little, but his heart stirred as the young Dalmatian sounded off the keys once again. This tune was a little more lighthearted and likewise familiar. It was Beethoven's Fur Elise. Joji placed his hand on piano as he gazed at the Dalmatian play. Joji loved feeling the vibrations of the piano massage his hand. Again the tune changed to something a bit more exciting. Perhaps Mozart but Joji couldn't quiet recognize it.

"God, kid. Who taught you to play?"

"No one important," Alex snorted. "Just a fat basset hound. My third foster. I hated her so much and the feeling was mutual. Of course, I got my revenge in the end by becoming better at the very piano she forced me to learn. I was gone soon after."

"Bitch..." Joji said under his breath.

"It's not too hard once you learn your scales," Alex continued. "Then you can beat any self-righteous bitch."

Joji laughed. Then Alex raised his intense penetrating dark blue eyes to Joji's elated browns.

"I take you're not exactly tune deaf yourself," the Dalmatian said blankly, batting his eyes toward the drum set in the other corner.

"Guess that's what happens when you have two siblings in the music industry," Joji admitted. "This piano's from my sister Helen, so is that keyboard over there." He pointed at the keyboard standing adjacent to the piano. "The drum set was a gift from my brother's friend Reg. He's my brother's drummer. Taught me to play and it's my favorite thing to play. Sometimes it helps to get the rocks off."

Alex huffed in agreement as he looked back down at is moving hands. He played for another couple minutes, which passed like a second to Joji. Then he stopped. The silence that filled the room crushed Joji's chest. "Don't tell me you're tired." Alex again raised his eyes to the Shepkita. "Why? Is there something you want to hear?" Joji grinned wider as he gazed temptingly down at Alex. "I can tell you're pretty well-versed. But you can't play this one."

"Try me." Alex hissed.

"Rite of Spring. By Igor Stravinsky."

The two stared at each other, like two polar forces canceling each other out. But it was finally broken when Joji turned to face the other way. He smiled. It was not triumphant, but it was justified when he heard the familiar high-pitched keys of the intro to Rite of Spring. He turned back and saw instantly Alex's dark blues, filled with indignation, staring back at him.

"You play four-paw?" asked Joji, like the question was pointless.

"It's kind of hard to play this one by yourself."

Joji scurried over to the adjacent keyboard, turned it on, and positioned himself. He began abruptly, like a fencer sweeping beneath the hip of an opponent. He wanted to see if Alex's balance would shake at all. Just as he expected, Alex caught the cheap trick and flawlessly responded. A couple of sharp glances, which matched his high notes, reminded Joji that the kid was taking the lead on this one. Joji always pictured this piece as having several slopes to claim, each with different things dwelling on their sides, before they disappeared suddenly into a plateau and the accent began up the next slope. They paralleled each other evenly with soft brushes of the keys, Joji was just supporting Alex, as they ascended this crescendo together. Joji sensed that Alex was getting restless. This helped him spot Alex's sharp and sudden interjection of force. He knew it was coming, but Alex's cue was a little sooner than what he was used to. Nonetheless, Joji sprung into action accordingly and the two became like storms with their own bolts of lighting crisscrossing each other, yet sown together by an invisible pattern. Their clashing grew louder, faster, and sharper. Then it stopped--slope disappeared. They returned to ground level as Joji let Alex repeat the smooth rhythm of the introduction.

Then Alex erupted the keys with the sound of beasts processing through a canyon. Joji had to hold back a little in order to prevent his tightening throat from cutting his hands off from oxygen. But that image had always come to Joji's mind at this particular point in the piece, and here Alex was breathing life into it as he had never heard anyone do before. It was almost as if he had to turn around just to remind himself that the beasts in the canyon were not stalking him from behind. Still, Joji continued his support and allowed Alex to move to the low bolts of the larger beasts advancing from the rear of the procession. Joji had never been able to make out the beasts in full. They were always just giant shadows in his mind. The only detail they had were their feet, and with Alex, they were as sure as trending just beyond the house.

What followed was another segment where Joji had to play on his own. Not as support but as a parallel force. But this time, neither made any moves to throw the other off. They had grown familiar with each other's playing, like two professional pitchers playing catch; a forced kind of kindred between them. So there, the Dalmatian tossed notes at the hefty Shepkita over ten years his senior and expected the right kind of return. Together, they created a storm, followed by a great earthquake that collapsed the mountains onto the beasts below and swallowed them into the dirt.

Joji stopped. His ears twitched at the softness that Alex manifested in the next notes--the next plateau. It was like a gentle breeze passing by the rubble of the mountains. Joji stoked the wind with a few repeated keys. Slowly, that breeze transformed into a flurry and Alex played on until the former mountains were covered by a glacier. To Joji, it was as if that image of the canyon had become connected with this moment in the basement of his house. They had lived through it together and now here they were with the glacier covering the ground outside the Joji's house. Alex's flurry still coming down outside through the small window near the ceiling at the base of the house. He was the flurry. The whiteness on his fur stained with the blackness of soil, and the somber on his face as he played, proved it. Joji almost overlooked the irony of this piece's name.

He overlooked the fact that Alex was slowly speeding up the tempo, so Joji was late in returning to his roll and was almost knocked over by a blow from Alex's sharp keys. Joji darted his eyes back at Alex. The kid was fixed coldly on him. His blue eyes sharp as icicles shooting their jagged points right at Joji. The Shepkita blocked the Dalmatian with his own keys. It was a duel.

Once again, they were tossing notes at each other seeing if the other would at all falter. Neither did. They played each part masterfully. It was getting to the point that both their faces couldn't help but reveal their surprise at the other's skill. A nippy teen and a stubborn brute both met their match on the keys of their pianos.

The climax.

Then they started to wane. They'd been playing for over half an hour non-stop. Their duel had become an exhausted dance. The whole time, there eyes never parted, though they became more glazed and watered by the heat of their own bodies.

Then it all ended, faded out by Alex keying off the same notes that introduced it.

"This was why I wanted you," Joji whispered, the Dalmatian's eyes locked on his own.

"What?" Alex responded in almost a whimper.

The Shepkita's face elated. "For you to give me a moment like this."

Alex sighed. His eyes glistened. Then his face began to slowly stretch into a smile. It was an honest one that matched the glee in his eyes. It was directed at Joji, and the Shepkita couldn't help but giggle like a pup. The air in the room was cold and stale when Joji first came down. Now it was warm and cozy. It was to the point that Joji was even sweating a little under his wife-beater. He looked at the little Dalmatian who made it so.

"Rite of Spring," said Alex still beaming.

"That's the first time I've seen you smile."

"Don't get used to it," Alex huffed, but still retaining his grin.

"Why? I think you should add it to the routine a bit more."

Alex shrugged and looked away. Joji got up and placed his hand on the Dalmatian's shoulder.

"Thank you, Alex. That's been my favorite since I was seven. Ever since my dad took me to see it performed." He patted Alex's head and brushed his hands through his ears. "But I think it's time we get some sleep, huh?"

"Thought you weren't into guys," Alex scoffed.

"Come on. I'll walk you to your room."

They got up and descended the stairs together, Alex's small frame encompassed by Joji's brawny arm. When they got to Alex's room, Joji swept Alex off his feet with his arm and tossed the Dalmatian onto his bed.

"Good night, Alex," he said smiling as he ruffled Alex's ears again, "Sleep in. And I'll see you in the morning."

"Hey..."

Joji turned. Alex spread himself against the bed, curling his body around its covers. "...It's still an open invitation big fella."

Joji shook his head and started for the door.

"Night," Alex's voice trembled. "Night...Joji."

You win.

Joji turned again and smiled. He winked at the Dalmatian as he slowly closed the door.

Alex laid there in his bed. He looked at the outline of the room through the darkness. It was then that he realized that only a few hours ago, he was on a cold street and in the flee ridden bed of a drunk panther. Now he was here. His stomach was full, his fur was warm, and he was by himself, though not alone, in the quiet of a room in the middle of nowhere. His room. From the bed, to the closet, to the desk, to the freshly painted walls. _His_room.

He grasped both ends of the covers with his fingers that were still sore from the piano keys. The pillow below him became stained with his tears. He glued his trembling lips together.

I guess I'm staying. Just a little while. I don't have much of a choice anyway.Besides...I want to see if he'll break.

The End.