Troubled Together - Pt I
The wolf stripped down to his boxers, laying on his bed over the covers. Determined, he focused himself on everything that was wrong. In truth, nothing was wrong. Puberty had just reached the point in which it decided to fuck with hormones, and while Brolin recognized this and understood it thoroughly, it was not comforting. So he looked at reasons for his constant depression and his libidic urges.
'They hate me,' he thought. He locked himself away from his parents, rejecting their every advance, their questions, their aid and he blamed them for not trying harder. A tear ran down his face.
'It hurts,' he thought. The sadness was destroying him, often causing physical illness. He was always sore.
'I'm hideous,' he thought. His dark grey fur did nothing to hide his scrawniness. The almost projecting ribs, and barely distinguishable abs giving no comfort.
'He doesn't care,' he thought. Tirko had been taunting him for months, since Brolin finally stopped denying his sexuality (at least to himself). Tirko, that cute fellow senior. Tirko, the beautifully striped tiger. 'No!' cried the wolf's mind. Tirko, whose cool voice and wonderful eyes were rarely if ever directed at Brolin. 'No!' Tirko, who could have only grown more fit since the shower mishap, years ago. No!' Tirko, who must have had the most perfect, largest, thickest, sexiest cock ever. "No!" Brolin finally spoke out loud.
The wolf pushed his thoughts away. I might as well not even torture myself with hopeful imagination,' he decided. He was too pretty and too straight and too already spoken for. Still...
Brolin looked over at his bedside, opening the large unread bible. He flipped through the pages, which efficiently hid underwear models cut from magazines, the occasional scrounged up bit of real yiff, and the one picture he had ever gotten of Tirko. He knew he had to hide the pictures, only being seventeen and in a house with his religious parents. But there were more than pictures in the religious book. There were three condoms he occasionally replaced in some vain hope or habit. There was also a razor, at the beginning of Revelations. He picked up the razor.
Studying his reflection in its careless silver, Brolin saw the tears in his eyes and the seriousness on his face. He was going to do it this time. Release the demons in the form of blood. Lots of kids did it, right?
Brolin touched the razor to his arm, feeling its chill bypass his fur. The wolf raised it to his neck, pressing its side heavily across his throat, a chill of pleasure running through his spine; felt his heart quicken, his breathing become faster, his cock begin to harden. Back to his wrist, he concentrated. 'It will go away,' assured the canine's hormones, 'You can be free.'
Brolin ran it slowly across his wrist, with not enough pressure to cut, but his cock continued its ascent, and he honestly felt better just by getting so close. He did it again, harder and relished the quivering pleasure that erupted from within him as the blood seeped out. It was more than he could have ever imagined.
He did it again, and a again, licking the blood from his fur dark grey before it could stick and stain, keeping an old sock under his arm to soak up the drippings. The fourth cut was deeper, and not so fun. The wolf grasped its arm, fearing that he may have cut a major blood vessel. His depression , not at the moment suicidal. The bleeding stopped in no time, and the good feelings he had developed were scared away by fear. His cock, that but moments ago was fully active, instantly deflated; but for a moment, the wolf felt ecstasy.
He lay back, shut his eyes, and slept calmer than he had in months.
* * *
Tirko was tired and thrown from balance. He dumped his girl friend- he no longer loved her emotionally, nor had he ever loved her physically. The rabbits warm touch never brought upon the spine tingles she claimed to have. Their kisses constantly degrading in quality, length, and feeling. Unhappy, and unwilling to comfort someone who he began to care less and less for, the tiger stopped trying.
"Was this some sort of joke?" Herana cried, "Did you ever care, you fucking bastard?"
"I did," Tirko defended, "But I just can't anymore."
"And why not!" She demanded. He growled just remembering it.
Summoning up what he could, Tirko admitted, "I'm gay." Big mistake. It was over Furspace in a matter of hours, and few people in this region were forgiving to different life styles. Or love styles.
Tirko lay on his back, almost nude, convincing himself that now that he was free, and that everyone knew, the Tiger finally concluded it as okay to begin his search for another male. Fuck what his parents thought. He's not going to be an Olympic swimmer no many how many egg yolk shakes his father stuffs down his throat. 'I'm not going to stick with some female just because I'm supposed to,' reasoned the tiger. But was there another gay fur in the county?
The tiger turned up his mp3 player, and sat on the floor, meditating. He had received plenty of complementary stares in the pool. As a well built tiger, it was inevitable, but was it admiration or desire, and who were they anyway? There was once, maybe even three times he received the spine tingling touch just from bumping into some unknown fur in the halls, but the identity of his assailant was still a mystery. He saw once and felt sure it was a dog though.
Suddenly, it was 2am. The tiger lay on the floor and stared up at the ceiling until the sun rose the next morning, contemplating.
* * *
Brolin woke up feeling great, getting dressed and leaving for school earlier than usual, and hiding his favorite bit of metal in between his debit card and library card in his wallet. Hanging his messenger bag backpack around his shoulder, he walked to school with a spring in his step, feeling unusual as he wished his parents a good day. The cool spring air caressed his arms, tingling his cuts. The wolf looked at his arm, unfamiliar with the feeling. The fourth cut was visible, the other three quietly hidden behind his fur. From that point forward, his wrist was permanently pressed against his side, in hopes of hiding the mark.
The wolf sat outside the high school, calmly and happily reading a book for the next hour and a half until first period began, enjoying the quiet serenity for the first time in years. The place was abandoned at the moment
Perhaps by luck, divine inspiration, or pure accident, he lay his back on the wall to the indoor pool.
* * *
Tirko arrived later than usual, his car didn't star properly partially because he was using the wrong key. The tiger also sported two different socks. Not sleeping will do that do you. Upon his arrival to the high school, he walked quickly to the indoor pool, hoping to get in a few laps before anyone else came in to disturb its placid waters.
A janitor smoked outside the door to the pool, and was kind enough to unlock it on pain of blackmail. The tiger stripped to his trunks and stuck his broad feet into the water, unexpectedly feeling nauseous. Tirko forced himself under, and darted towards the other side of the pool. He flipped underwater, pressed against the other wall, and darted back. Half way through, Tirko lost his motivation and spent his remaining speed on gliding to the center of the pool, his head underwater. Raising his head and taking a gasp, he sank to the bottom of the pool, where his eyes tried to cry in his goggles. The pressure would not allow them, so he just sat there.
It wasn't long before the tiger's lungs started asking for air. He ignored them. Tirko sighed and fell asleep.
* * *
As a magnificent tiger wandered quietly into the pool hall, Brolin hid himself as best he could behind some shrubbery. Moments later, his book flew from his hands as the morning silence was broken by the violent thrash of water in the pool. The wolf jumped up and looked through a large window into the pool hall to see Tirko tearing through the water. Seconds afterward, the tiger bounced back, but suddenly began to slow. Seeing the limp fur, Brolin ran inside the large humid room in time to see the tiger sink to the bottom.
Worried, he prepared to dive in to the rescue, but upon seeing the tiger sit deliberately cross legged, head on paw, Brolin chose to discreetly watch, abruptly unaware of time's passage.
After some period, a thick stream of bubbles shot from the Tirko, blocking any view. The wolf got on his paws and knees and hung himself over the pool in a fret, wondering what was happening to his tiger. 'Did I just say my tiger?' he thought to himself. At length, the water settled, and the tigers position wasn't so deliberate any more. His big arms and legs hanging in either direction, motionless.
Brolin darted his head back and forth. Three other furs now occupied the hall, reading or just laying back, oblivious to or uncaring of the possibly dying tiger below the calm waters. Merely screaming, "Oh my god!" the wolf dove into the pool. He couldn't let this tiger die, 'I don't mean anything to this fur, but he means so much to me.' Much later, he would look upon this thought as unbelievably corny, but now he didn't care.
Tirko didn't stir as Brolin maneuvered himself under the tiger, and tried to spring him upward. Nor did he stir when two more furs helped pull him onto the walkway. Brolin finally had enough, forcing the tiger's massive pectorals downward, trying to coax the water out and air back in. Without thinking, he touched his mouth to the tigers and blew. Within minutes a crowd began to gather around the two, watching in sick curiosity.
The wolf tried again and again, but to no avail. He looked into the tigers closed eyes, dying inside somewhat. Not trying to wake up the tiger and with no consideration for what his classmates might think about necrophilia, Brolin lowered his mouth slowly of Tirko's, breathing out at first but soon discreetly opening the tiger's teeth with his wolf tongue. Feeling around the area, Brolin felt as if he was alone with his tiger.
At first, the tiger's mouth was cold and tasted of chlorine, but it rapidly warmed, the stench of chlorine surrendering to saliva, bringing new sensations onto Brolin, not nearly equaling the sensation of the Tirko's tongue, now filled with life.
Both their eyes closed, only Brolin had an idea of what he was doing. Tirko, on the other hand, blindly followed along with his savior into a somewhat clumsy kiss, purring slightly as his large paw reached behind the wolf to hold him closer. Their tongues danced as warmth spread through the recently deceased tiger until a jolt shook them both from their trance.
The two opened their eyes, making contact for just a moment before the wolf fled through the throng of furs around him.
* * *
The tiger opened his eyes to see two yellow irises looking back at him and to feel some foreign object in his mouth. Even though he was thoroughly enjoying the act, it still came as somewhat of a shock. The other fur, now identifiable as a dark grey wolf, seemed to share this sensation, but chose to flee in a long strided walk from the building.
Tirko had barely a second to process the events before several pints of water escaped his lungs. When his coughing fit finished, he looked for the wolf from his place on the floor. He couldn't find it, nor did any of the other furs notice it.
Assuring the occasional concerned fur of his health, Tirko cleared the area, trying to find the wolf whom he was sure he had recognized. The tiger wandered the campus until the beginning of first period, reserving himself to failure.
His history class was nearly full before he arrived. Tirko stepped up to his usual desk with an ever increasing sense of dread as he noticed his friends discreetly stacking books and purses into the chair. He realized the change in atmosphere and turned away quickly, with a clear blush on his face.
"Queer," whispered his former friends to each other.
A tear rose to the tiger's eye, but he wiped it away as he walked wobbly towards another desk. He looked into space as the surrounding furs talked happily around him.
It wasn't a nice chair. It was in a corner, far from the door, below a long dead light. In its fiber board surface were carved many words that Tirko ignored at first, but at length began to browse. Following the preamble to a rather sad poem, roll call began, and he focused himself up front towards Mr. Victril, a wrinkly beaver with a high pitched voice.
"Jurak Arsand... Peneli Daresh... Tirko Grendori..." Tirko raised his paw, "Brolin Hrenshald..." No paw raised, and the realization hit Tirko at last. The fur he had been carefully eyeing from across the room sat here- that cute dark wolf who always seemed so sad and alone- was the same wolf who had brought him back from the brink that morning. The indignity! The shame! The unadulterated pleasure... the spine tingling joy... Was this not just the one he had been looking for, but the One?
The odds were astronomical that out of 11,000,000,000 furs world wide, that the One for him not only existed but was in his first, third, sixth, and eighth periods. It couldn't be; I was just delirious,' the tiger told himself half heartedly, unable to thoroughly push out the wolf from his mind.
Second period came about in no time and as he undressed and redressed for swim team, Tirko was careful to keep his eyes to the ground. No one would react well if the newly outed tiger might possibly be oggling his teammates. But even in his attempt to hide himself, he was unable to resist hearing the occasional gossip slung around about him. Nor could he help but notice a lean sophomore otter opening and shutting his maw stupidly in his direction.
The team exited the locker room as one unit, a large lion, Coach Berat lead them out. They did their stretches, as Tirko continued his route of evasion. This wasn't the first day he was gay- just the first day anyone knew, and he knew how to avoid embarrassing lumps in his swimsuit. Stretches were quickly followed by laps across the pool, but Tirko just didn't care and feigned a leg cramp early on.
Coach Berat darted to the poolside as Tirko slowly pulled towards it. "Are you okay, son?" he questioned concernedly, "We can't have you drop out on us now!"
"I- its just-" Tirko couldn't just tell his long time coach that he didn't care. He faced the pool, with his legs underwater looking into space, but Berat somehow knew.
"Don't worry about it, boy," comforted the lion, "There are more of us than you think."
Tirko jerked his head quickly towards his coach.
"You'll figure it out eventually," finished Berat with a somewhat more than friendly shoulder rub before walking away.
Tirko sat at the pool edge dumbfounded for over an hour until he and the team were called to the showers. It was the last place Tirko wanted to be at the moment, but his coach would be there, and he had questions. Thus he reluctantly walked into the showers, nude like everyone else.
The tiger sighed as the other furs turned away as he passed, as if this were the first time he'd ever seen them. As the furs parted before him, Tirko finally found Coach Berat and hoped to god that the whine of water through shower heads would cover up their conversation.
"I thought I'd be seeing you," whispered the lion, "What do you need to know?"
Tirko thought for a while and looked up at his coach, easily a foot and a half taller. For a split second, a fantasy passed through his mind, but getting hard in the middle of a shower full of homophobic furs wasn't the best of ideas. "What do I do?" he finally asked.
"That's a big one," the well toned lion pondered. "I'll write you a pass; and you just stay here. Your next teacher is Mr. Jerstard?"
Tirko nodded.
"He'll understand."
The two sat across from each other on two benches, Berat remained undressed.
Of the around two hundred teachers at his school, fifteen were gay. Protective law prevented their firing even against the homophobic population. Of the around two thousand students, at least 75 were known gay or bisexual. They met periodically after school at one of the teachers houses, though not in their entirety. Often, one of the teachers would offer advice through example to a student in the form of a short term relationship. That odd otter, Yart, was one of the gay furs.
"Its my turn to ask a question now," countered the coach at length. "Who are you thinking about?"
The tiger's insides flipped over as he spoke, for the first time mind you, "Brolin."
A laugh rose from deep within the lion, "The one who pulled you out this morning? I should have known! So what have you told him?"
"I haven't seen him yet; he just ran away when I came to," Tirko admitted, later realizing, "He'd be in my class right now if I wasn't here."
"Good!" Coach Berat announced, "We don't need you scaring him away this early in the game, do we? So what is your plan of attack?"
Tirko's silence was enough hint to the nonexistence of a plan. Berat obviously anticipated this and enjoyed the idea of helping the young couple along. "Don't come on too strong, or you'll scare him away- I bet he's pretty new to this too," he said eagerly, "but get him alone if you can, look into his eyes, and touch his wrists a lot. Then make really awkward conversation."
This wasn't quite what Tirko was expecting. Make awkward conversation?'
"The more nervous you seem, the more comfortable he'll get," the lion explained, "and if he wants it, he'll take up your offer in no time. And who can blame him?" continued Berat on an odd note, quite obviously surveying Tirko through his somewhat tight shirt.
The tiger nodded at the advice and reacted to the gaze in what he hoped was a hard to get' attitude. It was becoming gradually more apparent how attractive the swimming coach was. He was wide shouldered, and so well muscled. The imaginative flash from earlier reappeared for Tirko. The tiger on his knees in the shower room, nuzzling his coach's pride. His own tigermeat in his hand, being slowly stroked at the same time. His hard to get' attitude quickly gone as a bulge began to develop in the tigers tightening pants.
Tirko looked down quickly and crossed is arms on his lap, blushing violently. Berat raised the young fur's head with nothing but a finger, "You could thank me... if you want." The lion winked unashamedly, with his cock edging little by little out of his sheathe.
"I-" stuttered the tiger, "Really? I'd-"
Berat understood quickly, and almost leapt from his chair to the tiger, choosing to nibble playfully at Tirko's neck. All the young fur could do was pull his head in the opposite direction, giving Berat as much room as possible to spread the amazing sensation. The lion bit hard into his partners neck, enjoying the little yelp that rang from it, then pulling the boys shirt off expertly to sit on his chest.
With only a little cue, Tirko picked up his head to lick the underside of Coach Berat's growing lionmeat. He wasn't sure what he was doing, but he had seen enough videos to have some idea. The tiger stroked the growing shaft with his tongue, then attempted to seem sure of himself by trying to inhale his coaches balls, the big furry orbs. Choking a little at first, he soon figured out how to move them around properly as Berat stroked the young furs abs and legs from behind, the occasional scratch warning Tirko of his teeth.
"Don't stick to one spot too long!" the lion advised, seemingly annoyed, turning him self around to get a good look at the projecting tiger cock. "How much do you have in here?" inquired Berat as Tirko's meat continued to rise. He expertly coaxed the penis out using his tongue and a bit of his hand. Tirko tried to watch, but could only catch glimpses before having his partners cock pushed closer to his face, as if a reminder of exactly why they were on the floor. He then tried to get a good hold around Berat's pride, but failed, reserving himself to explore a finger towards the lions tail hole, a long moan escaping forth when the lion hit the right spot, and precum spurt in growing bursts.
Tirko touched around the hole, gathering confidence slowly, until he could finally prod his finger a little bit into the lion. Berat murred, "So adventurous already? Then how about..."
Tirko most certainly was not adventurous, but he didn't receive enough time between moans to stop his coach from getting his own face in between Tirco's legs. Berat stuck his tongue in slowly at first journeying deeper. The young fur was unsure what to do, and reserved himself to holding onto his partners. shoulders. Tirco continued his helpless groaning, occasionally sporting a growl, begging for more either way. Berat retreated his tongue and his tiger friend sprung up, feeling as if he had just lost a vital organ, quickly replaced by a broad lion's finger.
This wasn't regular usage for Tirko and the shock was astounding as the finger rapidly forced itself in and around, as if searching. His back arched momentarily and his fur felt as if it was trying to leave his skin.
"This is called a prostate," noted Berat, noticing the look of discovery on the tiger's face, "And when you do this..." He rubbed his finger around before pressing it down on Tirko's vulnerable insides.
The surprise of the stimulation was enough- Tirko's pleasured growl suddenly burst into a violent roar as he came forcefully onto his chest. Berat was undisturbed by this, almost expecting it, clearly enjoying the control he possessed over the tiger. As Tirko tried to relax, Berat continued his work, cleaning the tiger seed off the tiger's abs with his tongue. "Open up," ordered Berat with a slight gargle.
Tirko moaned again as his orgasm continued, leaving enough space for Berat to spit the seed back out into the tiger's mouth, barely pausing to kiss the young fur and mix the seed around, sharing its sweet taste with its creator.
The lion looked a little disappointed as he tired of kissing. "Too soon," he sighed, sounding disappointed, "You should work on that." Berat unbent himself and walked away, apparently planning on finishing himself off later. "Your pass is on the shelf, over there." He pointed vaguely.
Tirko's pleasure cut itself short as he realized that he didn't really thank' the lion as planned, but the bell tolled for his fourth period. He scrambled back into his shirt and pants, and ran to his class imagining an excuse for his absence.
He didn't see Brolin again that day- but never did his thoughts divert.
* * *
Brolin couldn't imagine what he had been thinking. It felt good, but this tiger is certainly not interested in scrawny little me.'
Brolin shared his first period class with Tirko but couldn't even imagine looking at that dashing tiger after his little maneuver. So he skipped his class, hiding from teachers, hall monitors, and most importantly Tirko in the pool hall- which was always empty at this time. So when a big lion, some sort of coach, wandered into the large room, Brolin almost jettisoned his skin.
The wolf couldn't move. Skipping classes wasn't really his thing and he hadn't prepared any form of excuse, but the lion didn't ask about it.
"You're the wolf that pulled Tirko out, aren't you?" he inquired harmlessly.
Brolin nodded weakly, "You heard about that?"
"I heard about more than that," the lion said enthusiastically, "Some people are saying you tried something on him, too."
"I didn't mean to!" yelled Brolin, before hiding his blushing face. "He- I..."
Berat put up his paws in defense, "Ey! Its none of my business." There was a pause. "He'll come around though. Brolin's shock must have been brutally evident, as Berat just laughed and walked away. That lion knew something.
Brolin couldn't focus through his second period Calculus class, wondering what he could say to Tirko. In time, a beautiful speech came to mind, he was sure. All he had to do was find Tirko, with whom he shared third period. His ecstatic excitement, his planning, his imaginings faded quickly as Tirko seemed to have missed their Language Composition class.
He didn't see Tirko again that day- but never did his thoughts divert.