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Sunlight poured in through the window onto the carpet of Mike's bedroom floor. Roger opened his eyes, surrounded by the smell of his favorite rottweiler's bed. The air felt crisp and new. The room was warm, but not too warm. The bed was soft. He loved staying over at Mike's house because these things were always perfect. His own house was always too hot, because his family could never use the air-conditioner; money was too tight.

Everything seemed somehow different, like waking up in the morning and not knowing what day it was.

Then he remembered.

"Oh my god," he whispered aloud, to himself. He'd had sex with his brother and his brother's boyfriend. So had Mike. His brother had fucked him; it had all felt amazingly good.

What's more -- all of this had happened just yesterday. After their orgy, Mike had taken Roger home to his place, and they had gone to bed early. Mike hadn't spoken of their encounter after it happened, and neither had Roger.

Usually Roger slept on the bed, and Mike slept on a sleeping bag on the floor. Ever since they had realized their affection for one another, they had begun sleeping in the same bed at night (being very careful to close the door so Mike's parents would not see them together). But Mike was not with him this morning; something was wrong.

Roger looked around the room, envying Mike for having rich parents as he always envied him.

Then he spotted the rottie sitting on his furry beanbag chair.

Mike sat with his knees drawn up to his chest, his strong arms wrapped around his legs in front of him. His face was buried in his knees. He was naked, large feet sticking out over the edge of the bean bag.

"Mike," Roger said softly, climbing out of bed in a pair of boxers. "What's the matter?"

Mike's shoulders shook once, then again. He didn't look up.

Roger was at Mike's side in a heartbeat. He sat down next to him on the floor. "What's the matter?"

Mike sniffled. He mumbled something inaudible.

Roger rubbed his broad back. "Mikey, I... can't hear you if you talk into your legs," he coaxed.

Mike lifted his head and rested his chin on his knees. Never before had he looked more like a sad little puppy. A teardrop was running down one side of his face.

"I can't be with you no more," he whispered, his voice trembling.

"Why not?" the tiger asked.

"If you wanna be with your brother... that's okay," Mike told him in a quivering voice. "You knew him before me. But I can't watch. Hurts too much. Inside here." He rubbed his chest through his shirt to illustrate his heart was breaking.

Roger was shocked. There had been none of this emotion after the incident the day before, and Mike had shown no trepidation toward the situation. "Mike, I--"

Mike cut in, though. "I love you, Rog. But I'm just one guy. They're two. And I... I guess I can't get used to you messin' around with them."

Roger shook his head. "That's never going to happen again," he told him with quiet certainty.

"It's not?" Mike sounded surprised, but not convinced.

"No, it's not. My brother has a boyfriend, remember? That big wolf," Roger told him gently. "Oh Mikey, it was so weird for me. I mean..." he sighed. "Yeah, it felt good. It was wrong, too, but Cra-- Mace and I kind of needed it to happen. That had been building up for years."

Mike looked at him with his big brown eyes. "Years?"

Roger looked down. "There's always been this kind of... invisible magnetism between us. I've had feelings I didn't understand for a long time. He had them too. It was like this unspoken pact; if neither of us said anything about it, it would go away. But it didn't. It just got stronger, and neither of us knew where it would lead."

Mike just looked at him.

"When we did those things, we finally saw what it was about. We let it loose. And you know something?"

He cupped Mike's face in his hands tenderly. "I don't love him. Not like that. He's my brother, and I love him like a brother. I don't love him romantically. Not like..." He took a breath. "Not like I love you."

Mike let his head rest on his shoulder, gazing at Roger sideways. "So... you're saying you got it out of your system."

"Like a bad cold."

Mike smiled slightly, though a bit shakily. He lowered his legs from his chest and put his feet on the floor. Then his smile faded. "Do... you have any other gay brothers?" he asked.

Roger bit his lip. "Are you joking, or should I be insulted?"

Mike blinked.

Roger sighed and slid his arms around Mike's body. They fell back onto the carpet into one another's arms.

"Mike," he said. "I really enjoyed what happened yesterday, and I think you did, too. There'll always be guys out there who are hot. You'll be attracted to them. You'll be attracted to girls."

"No--" Mike began.

"Shh," Roger said. "Hear me out. We're sexual creatures, Mikey. We're meant to look around and find attractive people. It's our nature. But that doesn't mean we have to follow through with it. We love each other. This is special. It means more than sex. You know?"

Mike nodded.

"I'm not going to be with anyone else," Roger told him. "I'm with you. If, someday, we see someone we're really attracted to, we'll see what happens. But we have each other, and I don't need to wander. I don't want to. What we have is more special than that."

The rottweiler looked considerably relieved, gazing into Roger's eyes. "I won't be with nobody else," he said, and it sounded like a promise. His eyes were large and innocent, like a puppy gazing at his owner with complete love and admiration.

"Just be with me," Roger told him, touching that beautiful face he loved so much. "More than anything, that's what I want."

"Me too," Mike assured him.

* * *

That evening, Roger was back at his house. It was quiet, but he knew Mace and Rock were over; he had seen their cars parked on the road. His stomach churned with nervousness, knowing they were around. He wanted to keep his promise to Mike. He wanted to be with him. But he had no idea how he would react around his brother, now that they had shared something so intimate.

He walked through the hall and into the bathroom, just as Mace was coming out of the shower. Modesty not being one of Mace's qualities, he had left the door open. The big tiger was reaching for a towel, water running in rivulets down his muscular body, and from the tip of his big cock. He was magnificent. When he saw Roger, he stopped and stood there.

Roger stopped in the doorway. They were motionless, facing one another.

This had happened before over the years-- one of them would see the other naked. It normally wasn't any big deal. But of course, this time it was different.

"Crai-- Mace," Roger said. "I... shit, I don't even know what to call you."

Mace looked at him. "What do you want?" he asked blankly.

"I'm going to bed. I wanted a shower." He looked at his brother in the eyes and sighed. "So... what do we do now?"

"Get in here and close the fucking door," Mace told him in that 'big brother' way he did when he was annoyed. "And hurry up before mom and dad hear."

Roger shut the door behind him.

"Take off your clothes," Mace said.

Roger stepped back fast enough to bang into the door behind him. His eyes were wide with fear, and he stammered out, "I don't wanna-- I-- I don't wanna do this--"

Mace rolled his eyes. "You want a shower, then take your clothes off. Just do it and fucking trust me."

Roger slowly, hesitantly pulled his shirt over his head. He pulled his boxers down and kicked them into the corner. He was afraid, but he was also getting annoyed at his brother's lack of tact.

"Mace," Roger said. "What happened the other day... I liked it, but... we can't do it again."

"Yeah, no shit," said Mace. "Fucked me up."

"Yeah, me too. And... there's Mike."

Mace nodded once. "You love him a lot."

"I do."

"That's how me and Rock are."

"You're in love?"

"Yeah."

"This is ... awkward," Roger said.

Mace dropped his towel. "That's why I told you to come in. Look. I'm naked, and you're naked. We're both horny. But does it sound like I wanna fuck your scrawny little ass?"

"...no," Roger said, frowning. He had hoped to have a heart-to-heart talk with his brother to sort things out. But he had forgotten; that wasn't Mace's style. Mace got his nickname for a reason.

"Do you wanna suck my cock again?" asked the taller tiger. He wagged the big shaft. "You wanna swallow my sword? Poke your tonsils?"

Roger looked at Mace's cock. It was big and hard, pulsing slightly with his brother's heartbeat. Mace was being such an asshole about this whole situation. He didn't want to suck him off; he wanted to bite the damn thing off and spit it at him.

Mike had feelings, and despite his mental challenges, he had tact. Mace had none, and he was happy about it.

"Fuck no," Roger said, perhaps a little louder than necessary.

"Exactly," Mace said, leaning against the wall. "We're in the same room, and we're _not_ having sex. This is gonna happen a lot, so get used to it."

He walked by Roger and, as if to prove his point, he brushed his body against him. "See? No action. And don't make a Mace Shrine in your room or nothin, y'know, collecting pictures of me, so you can remember the one time you got the best there is--"

Roger shoved him. "Get off me, you ass."

Mace was grinning and shoved him back.

"Relax, bro," Mace said, slapping him roughly on the shoulder. "I was just fucking around about the shrine thing. Don't let it get to you. Anyway, everything'll go back to normal. Don't let it fuck you up anymore."

He wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the door.

Roger suddenly started to laugh. His brother was an asshole. He was gorgeous, and he had a raw, untamed sexuality about him, but he was an asshole. How could he have forgotten that? They fought so much and bitched each other out so often. Sure, there had been sexual tension, but it was intermingled with a lot of mutual anger and frustration.

They loved each other, but they also hated each other!

Somehow he had forgotten this, but now that they had resumed their old roles, it was perfectly clear. He had expected that Mace would change once they had sex, but he hadn't. He was still the jock muscle head he always was. Whatever hidden energy they had released was out of their system now.

With a silly grin on his face, he looked at Mace. "Hey," he said.

"Yeah?"

"From now on, tell Rock to keep his fucking hands off my boyfriend."

Mace grinned and ruffled his hair. "Love you, bro," he said. "That ain't never gonna change."

"Love you too. Even if you are a stupid fuckwad with no tact," Roger said.

Then Roger took his shower, relief spilling over him like the hot water.

* * *

Rock was laying on the bed, waiting for Mace.

"You fuck him again?" the wolf asked, looking up at Mace as he walked in.

"Nah," Mace said. He sat on the edge of the bed.

"I heard you tell him to 'get in and close the fucking door.'"

Mace nodded. "I wanted to find out if he still wanted it or not. He doesn't. Neither do I."

Rock smiled. "But you're around him every day. You're telling me nothing's ever gonna happen between you?"

Mace sat down on Rock's stomach, straddling the dark wolf's body between his thighs. "That's right," he said, looking down at him. "Just because two guys live in the same house don't mean they have to whip out their dicks every chance they get."

Rock frowned. "Yeah, well what about us? We're gonna be roommates soon, remember?"

Mace grinned again. "I said they didn't have to. I didn't say they can't." He grabbed his cock and waved it in front of Rock's muzzle. "You're the only who gets to play with this, baby."

Rock nodded. "Roger isn't gonna be the only one, you know. There's gonna be other guys you wanna fuck."

Mace shrugged. "Probably. And other guys you wanna suck off."

"So what do we do?"

"I guess we go for it and we stick together and ride it out. What else can you do?"

"Yeah but... that can't be the answer."

"Yeah it can. You can't be with someone who never thinks about fucking other people. We're born with dicks, and we gotta deal with that. Someday we're probably gonna fuck someone else. We're probably gonna get jealous. But why worry about that now? It'd be the same with anybody else you got with."

Rock, for once in his life looked extremely thoughtful. "It's not fair, you know. The same thing that brings us together can split us up. It doesn't work for just one person."

"That's why we got a brain. We can make choices."

There was a long pause.

"You're probably gonna fuck Roger again someday, aren't you?"

Mace shrugged. "Could be. It doesn't matter who you're with; there's always gonna be something, some kinda obstacle. I don't know the future. No one does. But I do know something."

"What?"

"I know I'm with you right now, and we can count on that. Enjoy what we got, and let the future worry about itself."

"Yeah," Rock said, nuzzling Mace's neck. "All your Mace are belong to us, right?"

Mace grinned. He wrapped a paw around Rock's thick cock. "You are on your way to ejaculation, make your time."

They slid their arms around one another, fur on fur, muscle on muscle, breathing together, caring only for the moment, for their mutual love. Let the future handle itself indeed.

* * *

The next day, Rock walked down the hall of the cafeteria at GreenMount college. It was still pretty empty, considering it was still summer.

A few people were sitting at various tables, but only one in particular he was interested in talking to. The wrestler wolf, the one he'd sucked off, was sitting at one of the tables drinking a soda. He seemed too big to be at the table, as if he were trying to have a tea party with his little sister or something.

Rock approached him, pulled back a chair, and sat down.

"Hey," he said.

The wrestler wolf grinned at him. "Hey Rock. Back for seconds?" He had been reading a comic book but closed it.

Rock shook his head. "Gotta talk about that. I'm with somebody. I got a boyfriend."

The larger wolf nodded. "That tiger guy, right? Mace."

"Yeah."

"He was with you when you blew me in the shower, right in front of him."

"Yeah," Rock agreed, with apprehension. "But we didn't know what we wanted. Now we do."

The wolf smirked. "Good for you."

"I'm serious," Rock said. "I think you're hot. So does Mace. But I'm not gonna be suckin' your cock again unless he and I both want it. Not yet, anyway. We can talk and be buddies and shit, but no pressure for sex until we say so. You dig?"

The wrestler wolf nodded. All the sarcasm left his voice, and he smiled good-naturedly. "Like a fuckin' shovel. It's cool."

Rock grinned. "Great," he said, getting up.

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"What's it like, being with a guy?" asked the wrestler wolf.

Rock asked, "You mean fucking?"

"Naw. I mean being with one. You know, a couple."

Rock responded without having to think. "Best of both worlds. You got love, and you got a best friend, all rolled up in one."

There was a moment of silence while the wrestler wolf seemed lost in thought. As if considering something. Then he smiled again and asked, "Wanna bring Mace over tomorrow? We'll get pizza and watch a movie or something. No sex unless we all want it."

Rock slapped the wolf on the back. "Yeah dude. See ya then."

At that point, the wrestler Wolf decided to make a telephone call.

* * *

In Scott's apartment, things were relatively quiet. Lance was on the phone with someone, and he said, "Yeah, in about a couple weeks. I want to, but we'll see how things go. Yeah. Uh huh. Me too. Bye."

And he hung up the phone.

"Who is that?" Asked Scott.

"Those two guys, remember the wolf and the cougar?"

Scott nodded. "Yeah, cat sandwich with extra cr?me. Are you going to cheat on me again?"

Lance paused, and seemed for the moment unsure of how to respond. Then he said, "Would that bother you?"

Scott, who had been sitting at his dining room table and drinking coffee, banged his hand on the tabletop.

"What the fuck kind of question is that?" He asked. "Of course it bothers me. I didn't know you were a fucking slut until I saw you getting gang banged at your private party. In MY bedroom!"

Lance strode across the room over to him and sat down at the table. "But it turned you on, didn't it?"

Scott nodded, still frowning. "Yeah, of fucking course it did, and I don't get it. I'm not supposed to like shit like that."

Lance left a moment of silence before he responded. "You have a dark side to you, just like I do."

Scott nodded, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Lucky me."

Lance said, "You liked what you saw, so why not do it again? Why hold back?"

"Because," the leopard said, "that's not what relationships are about. If any of the girls I had been with had done this, I would have killed all the guys they were fucking."

"Are you sure?" asked Lance. "I mean, how often are you going to find someone you are so compatible with who shares this dark side with you?"

"You were fucking cheating on me," Scott said angrily.

"If I do it again, are you going to break up with me?"

There was a short silence. "Fuck yes," said Scott.

"What... what about if I invite you? What about if you're always there with me when I do these things? What if we do them together?"

There was a longer silence then. It seemed to stretch on forever.

Lance continued, "Isn't that what your boyfriend is there for? To help you explore sides of yourself that you've never seen before?"

"Not all couples do this!" Scott said. "Lots of guys only do stuff with each other."

Lance nodded. "You're right. Not all males have the impulses that we have. Not all guys want to be gang banged while their lover watches. Some guys are perfectly happy with each other and never mess around with other people. Some guys are monogamous, but occasionally they play with a third person. Some guys are more open, and like to experiment in all kinds of ways. I'm one of the last type, and from the way you acted, I think you are, too."

Scott seems to absorb all of this quietly. Then he said, "It was wrong of you to have that party behind my back. It was wrong."

"I know," said Lance.

Scott looked genuinely hurt. "You're a slut," he said. "And I'll bet it's not the only time you've messed around behind my back."

Lance looked down. "I can't deny any of that. I am who I am. I'm sorry for hurting you. But it doesn't have to end like this." He looked into Scott's eyes. "What if we could start over again, and do it right? What if we could experiment together, host wild parties and bring home incredibly gorgeous guys? I know plenty."

"But what about love?" Scott asked him softly.

Lance sighed. "What about it? I love you, and that's why I spend time with you. We're not committed to each other forever, but we make each other feel good, and we have the opportunity to have a whole lot of fun. Isn't there time for stability later? How many times do you think you'll find someone like me, who'll explore this stuff with you? How many guys are going to understand you this well?"

There was another long pause.

"You can't have it both ways," said Lance. "You can't have total sexual freedom at the same time as total trust, commitment and complete love. It just doesn't work that way. Not in real life. But I know you want this just as much as I do. I want to do this with you. I wouldn't share mine experiences like this with anyone else. You're very special to me and I want you as my boyfriend."

Scott saw his choice very clearly in front of him. He could choose to be with Lance in a relationship where they shared everything, including a myriad of new sexual experiences he could only imagine, or he could be alone. Lance wanted him, to share it all with him, but if Scott tried to make a monogamous relationship out of it, he would lose his feline boyfriend.

He'd never had a boyfriend before, and in a way he loved Lance. He wasn't 'in' love, really, otherwise it would have hurt him much more to see him in that situation. It was a hard choice, but then life was hard sometimes.

So that was what it boiled down to -- have Lance and this pleasure-filled lifestyle, or do without both. When it came down to that, his solution is fairly clear.

"No more secrets," Scott said.

Lance nodded with a little smile tugging at the corner of his muzzle. "No more secrets. I'll tell you everything that goes on, and invite you along."

Scott glared sternly at Lance. "No more parties in my apartment while I'm not here."

Still trying to be serious, Lance nodded. "No more parties in your apartment while you're not here."

Scott stood up and held out an arm. "Promise?"

Lance got up and rushed into his arms. "I promise," he said. And this time he meant it.

Scott was no fool. He knew this was shallow, and he knew this most likely wouldn't last very long, but he could always find stability with his next boyfriend and have a real monogamous relationship someday. But until the day came, he decided he might as well enjoy himself.

* * *

The wrestler wolf opened the door to his room to find his cougar roommate laying back on the bed, naked, with Calvin riding his dick, sliding up and down in his lap, facing him.

The wolf pulled off his clothes as he walked in, shutting the door behind him. "Hey bro," he said.

The cougar looked over at him. "Hey," he said, voice slightly strained with pleasure. His hips were thrusting upward, his butt lifting off the mattress, meeting each downward rocking of Calvin's hips.

"You wanna hang out with a couple guys tomorrow?" asked the naked wolf. He sat on the edge of his own bed, watching them. "We'll get pizza or something."

"Yeah," breathed the cougar. "That's... fuck... it's cool with m... me. They the ... fuck ... fags you were telling me ab... bout?"

"Yep. No fuckin', though. Keep your dick in your pants while they're here, okay bro?"

"Cool."

"And Cal?" the wolf added. "You can go out if you want."

The cougar grinned. "Yeah, we don't want any temptations."

The wolf, sitting on his bed, spread his thighs, letting his big balls hang between his legs. His cock was hard, poking straight out. "Bring him here, bro," he said. "We'll double-team him."

Calvin got up without having to be prompted and he knelt before the wolf. "You know I love it when you guys do this," he said, smiling up at him.

The wolf scritched between Calvin's ears. "You can always say no, buddy."

Calvin looked at him like he was crazy. "Why would I do that?" he asked. And the next moment he had his hands wrapped around the wolf's erection and was sucking on it, pulling it into his muzzle.

The cougar knelt on the floor behind Calvin and began to fuck him again.

"Hey, buddy," the wolf said, looking at the cougar in the eyes. They did this frequently -- both fucking Calvin at once from different ends, looking at each other while they did it.

"What, bro?" the cougar asked, breathing heavy.

"What do you think the big deal is with sex?"

The cougar closed his eyes for a moment, groaning with pleasure as he thrust his hips slowly, deeply penetrating the dalmatian. "Whatta ya mean?"

This was the most intellectual discussion they'd had since Calvin had become their pet.

"It's like sex screws people up. They wanna do it, but they don't let themselves. They act all stupid about it. They cry, whine, get jealous, go postal... all over fucking."

The cougar nodded. "Yeah bro, it makes no sense. I mean, what's fucking, really?"

"It's rubbin' your dick on something 'til you cum," said the wolf, demonstrating as he felt his shaft engulfed by Calvin's mouth once again, slippery and wet.

"Yeah," the cougar said. "Guys rub their dick on something and think it's the end of the world."

"Go fuckin' figure," the wolf said. "It's just skin friction."

"Yeah," agreed his buddy. "Go fuckin' figure."

And there really wasn't any more to say.