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_ Chapter 2: Turned _

It was a beautiful morning, at least.

I sat on a mid-level balcony of a coffee shop-slash-cafe. Not Starbucks, because I always considered their swill sub-par at best, but something local. The place was called Windy Coffee, and I supposed that was an apt enough name. We had traveled further into the city, Ian and I, in order to conduct the interview. I figured there would be fewer watchful eyes the further in we went, but maybe I was wrong. From what I could see, the place was mostly empty. Those that were here just seemed like college students on summer break, drifting about until the semester kicked off. Maybe some lonely, aspiring writers trying to hammer out a first chapter.

“Guess I'm one to talk," I said to myself.

In truth, I too was sitting in front of a computer. The terrace was screened in, and an ample amount of shade let me both see the cityscape and the screen of my computer. The level I was sitting at contained one other lone guest at the opposite end of the patio. An Americano stood tall next to my machine, and I took a sip out of pure boredom. A second coffee was at the seat directly across from me, presently unoccupied.

Ian, my interviewee for the day, had needed to run back to the bar in which we had met the previous night in order to reclaim his motorcycle. Of course, he had only remembered to do this when we were en route to the coffee shop in an Uber. I resisted the urge to complain, ordered the driver to make a quick pit-stop, and then I told him to meet me in a few minutes.

It was weird, I had to admit, the guy was sort of scatterbrained. Poor planning, at least. I vaguely recalled his admission that he routinely made “bad decisions," and I was starting to see why. Of course, the fact that he had followed me up to my room, lured me into coitus, and then transformed into a werewolf in front of my very eyes sort of tipped me off in the first place. Missing motorbike was just confirmation.

I still didn't know what to believe, truthfully. A nagging sensation in the back of my head told me that this was all a ruse. Maybe I'd show up on some sort of lousy prank-based MTV show in a few months. Or even worse, some shitty “found footage" film. Over and over in my head, I imagined myself, still sitting here in a few hours, with no sign of Ian. Maybe he had managed to copy my credit card or something, which would give me a nasty surprise in a few billing cycles.

The rumble of a motor stirred me from my self-doubt. I was able to steal a glance outside to see a familiar figure park in a small side lot, and dismount his motorcycle. It was an older bike, pretty sleek, but definitely well-traveled. Ian was more or less wearing the exact same outfit that he had on last night: simple blue jeans, boots, a blue jacket, and fingerless gloves. It made me wonder if he actually owned any other clothing. Regardless, I watched him lock his bike up and step through the front door of the cafe. It would give me a few seconds to clear my thoughts. I also needed to prep a few casual questions before we entered into whatever weird territory awaited.

I took another sip of my coffee and perused my open word document. Nothing of huge consequence, just a quick synopsis of what the interview would entail. Ian's stats were in there too: name, height, (apparent) age, etc. A brief two-sentence synopsis of how exactly the two of us had come into contact. A moment later, I saw him emerge onto the terrace. He looked around the deck, took a deep breath of the air, and then made eye contact with me. I pulled my sunglasses down and nodded at him. He made his way over to the table.

“Hey, Chuck. Sorry again about the wait, would hate to have to get my bike if it was impounded or something. Some asshole parked me in, though. Oh, is that coffee for me?" He took a seat, the wooden table creaking a bit. He pulled off his gloves and gripped the drink. “Thanks a lot!"

“Of course," I said. “It's the least I could do. Wait, you got parked in? How'd you get it out?"

“Oh, uh, just lifted it, I guess," he said without a second thought. And then he took a sip of the drink. “Mmm, what is this? Kind of sweet. I like it, actually."

“Just a latte—wait, lifted it?"

“Yeah."

“I don't know a lot about bikes, but that looks pretty heavy. I know you're a fit dude, but you...you can just lift it over the end of a car? Is that...?"

“Yeah, it's, uh...perks due to being a werew—Turned." He whispered towards me, ducking into the middle of the table.

“Interesting," I said. I typed down a few thoughts in regards to the revelation and then prepared something else. “So, this term—and I think you can speak up, we're pretty much alone out here--'Turned', what exactly does it mean?"

“Right. It's just what those that know about us refer to us as. I guess....it has a better ring to it, or something?" He took another sip of the latte. “An old mentor of sorts taught it to me. Then I found out everyone else used it too, and it stuck."

“Got it. Well, then that sort of opens up a whole new set of questions..."

I typed something else down, and then grimaced. Already, this was becoming disjointed. There wasn't much order to how the interview was progressing, just a meandering exchange of borderline-related questions. I'd get my answers, I supposed, but maybe it was better to start somewhere. A focal point. Something that connected this whole cracked-out tale.

Some sort of keystone.

“Alright, well," I began. “Honestly, not sure how to approach this whole 'interview with a werewolf' thing. Maybe I'll just start light, try and wrap my head around some main topics and ideas. Get a flow."

“Okay. Shoot."

“Like I said, I don't know a lot about bikes. I saw yours outside; it's nice, but seems old. Tell me about it. What's the make, and where did you get it?" Starting light was good. I could direct the flow of conversation. My fingers hovered over my keyboard, twitching.

“It's nothing special really, an old Yamaha, uh... *FZR Four-hundred--well, I replaced a bunch of parts over the years, so the model isn't really a thing anymore. More a Frankenstein's motorbike. * It was my dad's," he added with a somber note. Ian then removed his jacket and set it down next to him, stretching his arms a bit. I couldn't blame him, it was warm out here. And, naturally, I enjoyed the sight. His shirt was pulled tight over his muscular core. “I've been riding it around for a good few years now. It's a, uh, an Eighty-Eight."

“Cool." I typed it in my doc. Also worth asking about his father. I noted: 'Later.'

“...Actually, it's kind of funny," he said with a wry chuckle. “I guess it's because of that bike that I'm in this whole situation. At least, that's how I see it sometimes. Maybe it was just fate, though."

“How so?"

“It was back when I was in high school," he began, folding his arms. Suddenly, he looked more serious, sorting through old memories. “My dad bought that the summer after my sophomore year, I think it was. He had recently come into a huge promotion at work, and it was his way of celebrating. He always wanted one, since he was a kid, but never had the money."

“I see."

“Uh, anyways, he would take it out when he could, mostly on the weekends. It was usually just sitting in our garage. But I was just getting my driver's license at the time, and he had let me take the bike out a few times just for fun. Supervised. We lived on a long road out in the country..."

“Virginia, right?" I asked.

“Yeah. Before a lot of the urban sprawl hit the area. Uh, well, one weekend my parents and sister were out of town, and I thought it wouldn't be too huge of a deal if I took it out for a spin. Long story short, some asshole cut a turn too close, I got spooked, ended up crashing the damn thing."

“Ouch. Your father was pissed, I assume?"

“Surprisingly, not," Ian said. Another smile. “He at least got over it pretty fast, if he was. Getting pissed really wasn't his thing. The bike was more or less fine, just scratched up. But I got thrown off the road, and into a tree. Basically wrecked my leg, and shattered an ankle."

“Fuck, really?" I continued typing, not sure where this was going. It sort of struck home. “I had something similar happen, busted my ankle in school..."

“Yeah? So, sort of like your 'muse' in Prodigy, huh?"

“I—yeah, maybe. Anyways, your story: what happened to you?"

“A neighbor found me, helped me into their house...Then they called an ambulance. I called my parents at some point, but I went to the hospital first. Got put in a cast for a few months. This was just at the start of summer, so I was laid up the entire break. Then I had to be in a brace for a few months after that, but school was starting, and uh--"

He put a few fingers to the side of his head, and began rubbing them in agitation. “And I guess that's how I got tangled up with him."

“Who?" I asked.

“The guy who Turned me," Ian said, darkly. “An old friend of mine. Used to be best friends, actually. But now I'd give anything to get my hands—fuck, just around his neck. Hunter. Hunter Legrand. It's funny, really, how everything worked out."

“Yeah?" I asked. I finally had something. “Tell me about him. About it all. When 'it' started."

“Hmm. Alright. Like I said, I had been recovering all summer, but it was the first day of my junior year in high school, and..."

~~

“God dammit..."

Rain.

Well if that wasn't just perfect. I stood on the edge of a sidewalk outside of my school, good ol' Thorneville High. It was the afternoon of our first day back after summer break, in fact.

I'm sort of a sucker for things like that: the perfect turn of a page to a new year, with new possibilities. A blank slate, in the most frivolous of places. High school didn't care what day it was, what the weather was like, or what you thought would make the most out of the new year. It was just there. This sometimes-fun, but perpetually-inconvenient THING you had to do in order to clamber up one more rung on life's ladder.

Cynical at light-speed, I realized. My salty attitude was due to a number of things, but primarily it was the ten pounds of metal and polycarbon strapped to my right leg. I was in a leg brace from a nasty motorcycle accident at the start of the summer, and still suffered the consequences of my wannabe-daredevil sensibilities.

I caught my reflection in a rippling puddle on the edge of the street. It was hard to accurately judge if you were actually attractive or not, but I had always sort of thought so. I had the blackest hair imaginable, blue eyes, and a traditionally average build. I leaned on the athletic side sometimes, if I stayed active. But a summer being laid-up hadn't been good for me. I looked white. Not even a gentle sort of white—just pasty. I had put on some useless weight around my midsection too, and maybe I needed to shave? I was just a wreck. Needless to say, not how I wanted to start the school year.

The sound of engines roared to life, and a platoon of yellow school buses rolled up to the side of the building. I was shaken from my stupor of self-loathing, and got a move on. I knew my bus, knew the route, knew the seat that I wanted; leg be damned. At least they had let me out of class early in order to bypass the throngs of students. As I hobbled up the stairs of my bus, and nodded at the woman who'd been driving me home for the past few years, I saw the rest of my peers flood out of the school in tandem with an alarm.

“Everyone's excited to get home, I guess," I said, throwing my hood off of my head. I staggered down the aisle and took my usual seat, near the back of the bus. I groaned, feeling an ache in my busted-up leg, and leaned against the cold metal of the window. My backpack dropped to my feet.

My two best friends and I had lived on the same road almost our entire lives. We'd been inseparable ever since we were forced to sit together in elementary school, three bouncy backwoods kids crowded in one seat. The first day of school, every year, we'd excitedly talk and reveal what we were looking to get out of the year. However, I'd missed that today. I wasn't used to my new morning routine with the iron leg, so I wasn't able to catch the bus.

Thankfully, embarrassingly, my mom had driven me in later. It was sort of a rough summer without either of my friends; I guess the blame was mostly on me for that, though. I was hurt, depressed, and on a cocktail of low-grade painkillers for a good part of the summer months. Mostly, though, I just didn't feel like having my friends see me all laid-up and pathetic-looking.

A few folks stepped onto the bus and I looked up. I saw the telltale smile of one of my friends, and a giggle. As soon as she looked to see me, we exchanged grins, and she hurried over, swooping in to take the seat directly behind mine. She delicately put her backpack down, and a moment later I saw her head bob up from behind the seat, a rippling river of primped, light-brown curls. She had green eyes and a smile wider than anyone else I had ever seen.

“Ian!" she exclaimed. “Ian Freeland, in the flesh. Wouldn't believe it if you told me. But then again, I saw you at the end of seventh period. Guess we got the same English class this year!"

“Heeeeey, Munny," I greeted, leaning back.

“Meredith," she corrected. “I'm serious this time. I hate that gosh-darned nickname!"

“Why? You got money! It's why we started calling you Munny in preschool," I said, crossing my arms matter-of-factly.

“Yeah alright, whatever. How would y'all like it if I started calling you Ian-valid?"

“What?"

“Cuz of your leg. You're an invalid. Aw shoot, nevermind! Spill the beans, weirdo: how'd y'all bust up your leg?" She peeked over the seat at me and patted down her hairband.

“You didn't hear about it? I figured The Moms would be talking about it all up and down the road."

“I mean, yeah, I heard, but I wanted to make sure. Straight from the source. Motorcycle accident?! How in the sweet heck...?" Meredith was giving me that oh-so notorious look of hers again.

“Yes!" I exclaimed, smiling back. “But hey, let's wait on that for a sec. Hunter's getting on here, and I don't really want to repeat myself."

“Oh, yeah? He wasn't on this morning, that doof must've missed the bus or somethin'. Certainly was lonely without the two of you..." She trailed off for a second, and stared at the front of the bus. “There he is. Wow, he looks different. Must've lost weight, or...somethin'?"

I followed her line of sight. We watched Hunter skulk towards the idling bus. Shoulders back, staring straight ahead. Confident. There was something different about him. He turned up the stairs and walked towards us. He wore a loose black jacket, tight undershirt, and a fairly snug pair of pants. His hair, wet from the rain, hung down in a long cascade of damp blond to the bottom of his neck. A moment later, he wordlessly took the seat in front of me. The bus chugged, and he stared out the window, bored.

“Hey, Hunter!" I greeted.

I hadn't seen him all summer either. Hunter usually went to his grandparents' house out southwest. It was a big place, lots of yard and woods. Barely even near what you could call a town. It could be a bit lonely, I figured, so I would usually try to visit once or twice every summer. Not this year, though. Romping around out in rural Virginia was against the doctor's orders. No hiking, four-wheeling, or any of the cool backwoods antics we'd usually get into.

“Hmm," was my grunt of a response. Hunter closed his eyes and leaned absently against the side of the seat, legs spread out to the aisle.

“Now what's with the cold shoulder?" Munny pressed. “Didn't see hide nor hair of you all summer, all today, and you just decide to take a nap?"

“Tired," he said, throwing his backpack behind his head. “Guess I had a rough night of sleep last night. Bad dreams. No big deal."

“Oh, so y'all was nervous about today too, huh?" She asked.

“No," He said, and that was that.

“Well, I know I was," I interjected, mostly trying to pay Munny some attention. “Thought it'd be a pain in the ass walking around like this."

“Oh yeah! Go ahead Ian, tell us aaaaaall about what happened," Meredith said. She bounced happily behind the back of my seat, a mess of curly brown hair.

“You got hurt?" Hunter asked. He shuffled a strand of hair out of his ken and then looked right at me. Through the gap between our seats, I saw bags under his light brown eyes. There was an emotion in them that I couldn't exactly place.

“Y-yeah," I said, suddenly sort of embarrassed. “I guess you didn't hear. I, uh, crashed my dad's motorcycle a few months ago, and wrecked my ankle and leg. Twelve weeks in a cast, another twelve weeks in this weird boot thing. Then they're going to evaluate me for surgery, I guess. Reconstructive sort of stuff. I might not be able to run like I used to. Sucks."

“Awwww, Ian! That's awful! I didn't realize it was so bad!" Munny said. She put a delicate hand on my shoulder. I stopped breathing, just for a moment, and couldn't help but shiver a little.

Hunter saw this, and his eyes seemed to narrow for a split-second. I felt vulnerable, as if I was naked or something, as he looked down and scrutinized my leg, brace and all.

“Whatever. Yeah, it sucks," he said. “And I guess it explains why I didn't see you this summer."

“Y-Yeah, sorry about that," I shrugged. “I lost your grandparents' number, and I thought about asking your Dad, but--"

“He wouldn't have been any help," Hunter snapped.

“Right, so..."

“It's fine. Now I get it." Another once-over, eyes probing me. “It also explains why you got so damn fat."

“Hunter!" Munny squealed in shock.

“I'm...kidding," Hunter grumbled. “Whatever."

“Haha," I feigned a laugh, trying to roll with the verbal punch. “I guess I did put on some pounds this summer. Not a lot you can do besides lay around and play Super Nintendo while laid up like this."

“Still though," Munny pushed. “Y'all miss the bus this morning, Hunter, then we get some attitude..."

“Munny!" I interrupted her. I sat up and put my hand on the top of the seat. I brushed her arm accidentally and shivered. “Thanks, but...It's fine. We're just joking around, right?"

Hunter grunted, and closed his eyes.

“Meredith!" She firmly corrected me, and sat back down in the far corner of her seat.

“Oh, sorry," I said.

“Maybe it's dumb to try and get rid of the nickname after all these years," she admitted. “I just wanted a fresh start, but...it ain't even that bad of a name anyways."

“What? Nahh, it's just...a little tough to get used to, is all," I said, smiling. “I mean, it was a dumb nickname anyways. And it was from elementary school, so...who cares."

I eyed her through the gap behind my seat. Between the crusted, old leather and the window, I could only make out half of her smiling face. She blushed for a moment as I caught her eye and then we both just sort of laughed.

“Well, maybe you can call me Munny," she said. “And only you!"

“Nope! You wanted to be Meredith, and now you are. No more Munny. Never again."

“Good," came Hunter's gruff voice. “I always hated that nickname."

I turned to look at Munny, and mouthed something as quietly as I could through our narrow viewport. 'What's his deal?' It was barely a whisper.

She quickly shook her head and shrugged. I caught a glint in her eye, only for a moment, and that lead me to believe I wasn't privy to the whole story. We had known each other for so long; Munny couldn't keep a secret from me even if she tried. She knew something. I knew it was the something that had Hunter act so out-of-character.

“Tired," he grumbled, obscured in front of me.

Had it been him just mumbling to himself? Or was he answering my wordless question to Munny? I shook my head and turned away from the both of them. I folded my hands into my lap and stared at them absently. What in the world had happened to Hunter this summer to make him change so much?

“Uhhh...Ian, right?"

I was jolted out of my head. I looked up to see a kid my year in the aisle. He looked vaguely familiar, a dark-skinned dude with a hat hung sideways over a mess of tightly-curled black hair. It was the guy who had sat next to me this morning in homeroom! And, if I wasn't mistaken, he may have also been in my English class just a bit ago.

“Yeah," I said rather dumbly.

“Hey, I uh, I think you dropped this. Earlier."

He held out a ring of glistening keys which flashed in the glare from the window.

“Oh, shit!" I exclaimed. Wide-eyed, I reached for the keys and jammed them into my pocket with a jangle. “Thanks, man. Would have been a surprise when I got home. Must have uh, dropped them. Earlier."

Earlier. As much as I wanted to forget, I couldn't shake the embarrassing memory out of my head. Right before school had let out, in our final period of the day, I had slipped and taken a pretty rough fall. I'd never try to leave class early again. Still wasn't used to walking around in my brace. Everyone saw. Time to never go to English again.

“Yeah," he said with a nod. “Took kind of a spill. Sorry 'bout your leg. Can I sit, though?"

“Yeah! Of course, man. My bad." I attempted to squeeze myself closer to the window.

“Derick, by the way," he said with a nod, before placing a pair of headphones over his ears. They were the big and boisterous sort; a long cord snaked from them into his jeans pocket.

“Cool, nice to meet you. Sorry, hard to get to know all these new names and faces around here."

“All good, man," he said, a little loudly. Music was vibrating out of his hardware. "S'my first year going to school around here. Just moved this summer."

“Jesus," a growl resonated from the seat in front of us. Hunter rapped his fingers against the back of the seat and flashed me the middle finger. “Ian, you and your new boyfriend keep it down back there. It's a long ride, and I'm too tired for this shit."

I balked. My seatmate shook his head, but otherwise decided that he hadn't heard the insult. The pulse of music from his headphones grow louder.

“Dude, what's your fucking DEAL?" I snapped, smacking the back of his seat for emphasis. Should have been right where his shoulder was resting. “Drop the fucking grunge routine and talk to me like a normal person."

“Guys--" Munny started.

“Whatever. Just shut the hell up. Fag," he hissed.

I opened my mouth and scavenged my brain for some sort of retort. Something that wouldn't make me feel like a complete idiot. Nothing. I frowned, and sullenly looked out the window as the bus stirred to life. In a few more minutes, we were off, and soon wound through a posh circlet of townhomes.

“What the hell is this place?" I heard Hunter mumble in front of me.

Thorne Estates was a neighborhood that only popped up in the last year or so. It was a lot of tightly-packed town-houses arranged in a grid-like fashion. The roads were narrow, the yards were small, and the houses were a bit of an eyesore. All bright and dissonant colors, a huge suburban spectrum of new money.

Nearly half the students got off of the bus here, now. I nodded at Derick as he left. Then I was free to stretch out on the seat,give my legs more space.

We rolled on through the main streets of Thorneville. Again, with nothing to say, I found myself glancing at Hunter through the gap near his seat and window. He breathed steadily and slowly, likely asleep. I couldn't help but wonder again what exactly had gotten into him today. He had gone off to his grandparents' house every summer since I could remember. What made this one so different?

It's true that I couldn't visit him this time, but, how could that have caused such a transformation? The new physique, the rough attitude, the dismissive way he spoke to Munny and me...something was wrong. I wondered if his Dad was hassling him again. Or maybe it was the ever-looming prospect of applying for colleges. Or maybe some people just changed, and there simply wasn't a reason.

“I never would have guessed what it really was, though."

The bus took a wide turn down a country road and instantly a thick cloud of green covered the windows. I sighed and reached up to fumble with the window above my seat. It was old, and mostly useless, but I was able to pull the glass panel down a few inches and allow the cool breeze in. The rain had let up, but the patter of droplets on high-up leaves gave the impression of a second-wind storm. September was still pretty hot in these parts of the country; we wouldn't be getting a lot of autumn-like weather for another month or so. It might give me a bit of time to enjoy what I had missed while recuperating.

Hunter jolted awake in his seat. I looked up to see him rise into a sitting position. He shook his head, mane of blond hair waving about, and then looked out the window. I guess he had timed the nap well; we were now only a few stops away from his place.

Munny, Hunter, and I all lived on a road that circled around a sort of wooded valley. Our houses sat perched on a ridge that curved around in a great big horseshoe-shape. Down behind our houses in the woods, if you walked a little ways and didn't mind clambering up another hill, there was a huge river known as the Koppatannock River. It was a fun hiking destination, and I remembered trekking down there with my two friends several times every summer. For Hunter and I specifically, we'd make our way down almost on a weekly basis. It was a good chance to relax, swim, hike, and get away from our parents for a few hours. Back when my dog Rascal was alive, he'd join us. The big guy would have a blast, splashing in the water and ceaselessly fetching waterlogged sticks.

So we had all of this history. Together, as friends. Hunter was quite possibly my best friend; I had known him since we were little kids. I couldn't let whatever just transpired ruin our friendship. His stop was coming up, so it was time to just bite the bullet and make a move, so to speak.

“Hey, Hunter," I began, talking more to the back of his seat than him. “Sorry about earlier. I was, uh...frustrated."

He sat straight and upright in his seat, back against the window. An arm lazily dangled over my side of the section. He looked me over with sharp, brown-gold eyes and frowned. I took it as a sign to continue.

“Not really sure what's going on with you. I feel bad for snapping earlier. It was uh...kind of a rough summer. Do you want to come over tonight? Hang out, maybe play some video games or something? I got Super Metroid, and it's CRAZY. No way I can figure it all out on my own. So--"

“I'm busy tonight, Ian," he said flatly.

I tried not to show my disappointment.

The bus slowed; I saw Hunter's driveway quickly approach. It looked dark and menacing, a twisted iteration of what I normally saw from our bus route. A long gravel road twisted into an unkempt, overgrown patch of woods. I couldn't even see a house from the bus. So unfamiliar.

“What the hell? With what?" Instead of disappointment, anger broiled in my chest. “It's the first day. We didn't get any homework."

“Don't worry about it," he scoffed. “I'm just busy. With things."

And that was that. The bus lurched to a stop. It idled as Hunter got up to leave. I shook my head in disbelief and then he disappeared into his dark driveway, kicking up gravel as he vanished.

“What the hell," I muttered.

“I dunno, Ian," Munny answered quietly. “Somethin's up with him. Maybe..."

“What?"

“Aw, nothing," she said quickly. “Hey though, if it's alright, I'll stop by at your house for a little while tonight. We can talk for a bit, and my mom needs to give your mom somethin', or...something? Hmm."

“Yeah, alright. That sounds good, Munny. After dinner?"

“Yessir," she said. “Now get up, y'all gonna make us late hobbling down that aisle. This is your stop."

“Oh. Right. Later!"

I grabbed my backpack and slid to the edge of the seat. As the bus nearly skidded to a stop, I stood up and did my best to get down the aisle as quickly as possible. Everyone understood my situation, I was sure, but I still didn't want to take up too much time. God forbid Munny was a minute late and her butler or whatever fretted his toupee off. Or, you know, any sort of obvious and realistic rich-person problem like that. I stumbled off of the bus, and crossed the road into my driveway. I watched the big yellow behemoth drive off. I took a deep breath.

'What a day.'

I grabbed the mail from the box, and then trudged down my driveway. My stupid brace shifted and distorted the gravel. It made it look as if someone had been dragged towards my stoop. I rounded the path's natural turn and I pushed a low-hanging branch aside as my house sprung into view. It was your basic split-ranch house, with a small portion of brick against the beige exterior. My parents were looking into an expansion, maybe add on a garage and convert our current built-in space into a few more rooms. Well, that was until my injury set them back a bit.

Upon entering the house, I sighed and immediately headed towards my room. I deposited the mail on the kitchen counter for my Mom to sort. She was probably off to get my sister, Morgan, who was still in middle school, and then run a few errands. It was nice to have the house to myself for a bit.

I was on the second floor and shared a wall with my sister. Posters hung all around my room; some simply bore band logos, others proudly displayed my favorite movies and video games. A shelf full of knick-knacks stood next to my white dresser, which was across from my bed. It was a twin, and had a frame made out of a cool sort of bamboo-like wood. It was low to the ground, which allowed Rascal to continue his tradition of sleeping on the end of my bed well into old age. Now I mostly just left it messy and used it as a second shelf, much to Mom's chagrin.

I dropped my backpack and shucked whatever clothes I could without troubling my leg. Pants fell to the ground, belt still wound around the waistline, and my rugby shirt came off in one swift motion. It was one of my dad's old shirts from when he played in college. Only thing that seemed to fit me well that I could find in a moment's notice this morning.

I glanced at myself in the mirror, just in a pair of maroon boxers and a white wifebeater. Hunter had been right, I had put on some weight. I surveyed my body in the mirror; my frame was wider than usual, and there was some extra baggage visible around my midsection. Thankfully, I had always been fairly broad-shouldered, so I was able to wear it well. Still disheartening, though.

The weight of my leg brace frustrated me; I looked down and was instantly miserable. I wanted to rip the damn thing off, pull out the big plastic screws and feel the air on my leg again. I wanted to smash it, throw it away, and forget about everything that had happened to me over the last few months. If only I could have avoided my dumbass injury. What I wouldn't give to go for a run in the woods; to walk down the street to Hunter's place, or Munny's big house on the hill. If only I had been able to visit Hunter over the summer.

But no, I was stuck with a dead leg for god knew how many more months.

'Maybe longer,' I reminded myself.

I trudged over to my bed and sat on the edge, grimacing down at the brace. Another minute, and I found myself on my back; I stared at the ceiling, eyelids getting heavier by the second. Brace aside, it wasn't too late to do something about my lazy habits and lack of body maintenance. I didn't necessarily need two functional, fully-stretchable legs to pick up some basics on weight training. The school work-out room was open for a few hours after classes let out; maybe I could talk to Mom about it, and she could pick me up afterward. Or I could run it by Hunter. It seemed like he had made strides over the summer at some sort of exercise regimen, so maybe he'd give me some pointers too.

...That is, if he weren't mad with me about something. I shook my head and buried it further into a pillow. My eyes, already failing to stay open, felt heavier now as I cleared my mind. In a few seconds, I had dozed off.

I awoke what felt like seconds later, mind alert and gripped with some sort of primal fear. The screams of screeching tires and scraping metal pounded around in my head. I took a deep breath and shot up in my bed, only to find myself wrapped up in sheets and blankets. I guess I had been out for a little longer than a few minutes. Dim light filtered through my shades into the room and I heard people stirring down the hall. Mom, Dad, probably my sister too, all ready for dinner. With a grunt, I pulled myself out of bed.

“Fuck!" I gritted my teeth in frustration.

A sharp jolt of pain stung my leg, just underneath the brace. I stumbled and fell backwards into my bed again. The frame creaked under my weight and I just laid there, regulating deep breaths in an attempt to stave off the discomfort. The leg hurt from being on my feet all day, from walking between class and down the driveway. I scowled. This was pathetic. A day of minimal walking, of just going to school. I was useless, and it was all because of that one stupid idea.

“I know how to drive this thing...."

Silence, and then a knock on my door. Two soft, quick raps against the wood.

“Ian...?" My Mom's voice whispered through the door. She probably figured I was still sleeping.

I didn't say anything. I remained still, affixed to my bed like it was glue. The door slowly creaked open, light from the hall eking into my room and casting long shadows across my walls. I closed my eyes and evenly-spaced my inhalations. Despite my body sprawled sideways on the bed, legs dangling off, it seemed convincing enough. My mom lingered for a moment and then softly closed the door. The dimness of the room engulfed me. A half hour passed, maybe an hour. All I could really perceive was my room darkening.

“Oh, crap. Munny," I said quietly to myself.

In my stupor of self-pity, I had almost forgotten that Munny was planning to swing by. My leg protested in pain, but my tolerance threshold had soared these last few months. I hauled myself out of bed, swayed, and then planted my feet on the floor. I extended a hand out to my dresser and found my center. I needed to get dressed, but I didn't want to throw on my same clothes from earlier today. Well, pants I could do. You could wear one pair of jeans for like a week and no one would ever notice, right?

I slipped them back on; much easier said than done. It was no problem to let them fall around my brace and off of my leg, since they only ever could go halfway down. But now I'd have to sit, then pull them on and around my boot and my brace. Ten minutes wasted due to the ritual of putting my damn pants on. When it was all said and done, I slipped on a basic green t-shirt and threw on a light jacket.

I thumped down the hall, growing increasingly aware of a hum of voices in the living room. I approached, and every voice became distinct: my mom, my dad, sister, and...Meredith? Shit. I hurried forward and emerged out from the hall, now trapped behind a couch. A muted newscast played on the television in front of the couch. I sensed the indistinct smell of food that had recently been put away.

“Oh, Ian! You're awake!" my mom said. “I hope we didn't wake you up, just chatting with Meredith here. It's been a while!"

I blushed. My mom sat at the kitchen table across from Munny, her hair pulled back into a tight bun and noticeably gray. Despite this, she was spritely, and sported over-sized glasses that had a tendency to make her eyes look as large as the college letters on her sweater. Munny wore more or less what she was at school, her bright pastel skirt and jacket making her stick out around the more muted outfits in the room. She flashed me a smile which I couldn't help but return.

“Nah, I've uh...I've been awake for a while now," I said.

My dad, stocky and sun-tanned, sat comfortably in “his" chair on the other end of the room, next to the fireplace which probably wouldn't get any use for a good few months. He was a little older than my mom, his once-black hair now like polished silver. He glanced up from a book and lowered his glasses to give me a knowing look. Despite the stern appearance, I detected a mischievous glint in his eyes . He set his book down on a side-table adjacent to his chair and then stood up to join my mom in the kitchen.

“Lara, help me clean up the kitchen? Get the dishes and stuff?" He winked at me. “We can let these two catch up downstairs or something."

“I—oh. Yep, was just going to ask you the same thing, Don."

'Smooth as glass, Dad,' I thought to myself.

“Oh wait, Ian, hun," my mom started. “You didn't eat anything for dinner, did you? Did you, Meredith? Let me whip up a few plates here, and--"

“It's fine, Mom," I coolly protested.

“I gotta get home for a late dinner actually, Miss Lara," Munny said graciously, excusing herself from the table. “Well, real late I 'spose, since Daddy's working late. Just wanted to catch up with the ol' slowpoke here."

Both of my parents nodded, hints sufficiently taken. They began noisily cleaning up the kitchen while my little sister fled to her room; she managed to avoid conversation AND kitchen duty in one slick escape maneuver. I followed Munny down the stairs to the landing as she began putting on her jacket.

“Wait, you...actually have to go?" I asked.

“Well, y'all was asleep for a while," she replied. “But not for a little bit still. It's really nice out this evening, though, so..."

“Oh. Fresh air? Alright, cool."

I hurriedly slipped on one of my shoes and Munny laced hers up. We made our way down the second half of the staircase and then went out the back door into the yard. I slid the glass door shut behind us and took a deep breath of almost-autumn air. The ground was still damp from the storm earlier in the day, but most of the clouds had long scattered. It was warm and a little breezy. The sun had vanished behind the trees, but it wasn't quite dark yet.

“So, uh, sorry about that," I said sheepishly. “After I got off the bus, I went into my room and just passed out. Not sure why I was so tired."

“It's 'cuz you're so bummed out on everything," Munny said flatly.

“What?"

We started walking deeper into the yard, Munny keeping pace with me. In tandem, we passed my dad's makeshift railroad tie gardens, his tragically-sparse grape vines, and the fire pit in the far corner of the yard. All of the various projects he'd taken on over the years with varying degrees of success.

“You hurt yourself this summer, and, I—well, we...No one really, heard from you. For months, Ian. At first I thought it was cuz you were really hurt, and sick or something. I was real worried."

“...Oh. Yeah, I mean...I guess I went quiet there for a bit."

My leg throbbed in dull pain and I had to slow my already mild pace. We settled on an old bench next to the fish pond. I recalled the few weeks of work one summer a long time ago to build it out here; my dad and I dug out an old trench in the yard and sectioned it off with huge planks of curved, waterproof wood. He had the idea to stock it with native fish from the river, mostly sunfish. I caught sight of a frog on the side of the pond before it darted beneath the dark water at our disturbance.

“You did, hun. And I had my mom to tell me you were okay, since she was still talking to your parents. I get you were laid up and all, but...What were you doing?"

“Just, I dunno," I began. The interrogation got under my skin. “Just relaxing. My doctor said I shouldn't move a lot! So I was entertaining myself, reading books mostly, and comics. Playing video games."

“Mm. Well, a call woulda been nice, is all," Munny said. She shook her head, and then pushed a lock of hair away from her eyes. “Especially, I think, to Hunter."

“...Right," I said. I had nearly forgotten about him. Again.

“I thought maybe you did call him when he was off south at his grandparents', but today told me you didn't. Did you...tell him anything? Say you were hurt or anything?"

“No. I guess--"

“Well, there ain't an excuse for that, Ian!" she scolded. “I'm sorry for chewing you out like this! 'Specially right now, at your house. With your parents inside and everything."

“It's...it's fine," I said.

“And I know it's not very ladylike of me, and--"

“Munny, since when have you ever cared about acting 'lady-like?'" I scoffed, and added the air quotes with an exaggerated flair. “Sorry--Meredith. Well, aside from trying to change your name today. And the hair, too, I guess."

“Well! Jeez, if you're gonna bring it up like that!" Munny huffed.

I winced; maybe I had struck a chord. It wasn't exactly in good taste, but I rolled my eyes. Maybe she saw it, or maybe she didn't, but Munny stood up from the bench and looked away from me. Her gaze settled off into the sprawling woods that were just outside of my backyard.

“My mom's been hassling me about, you know, ACTING more like a lady and stuff. It's really getting to me a bit. Never thought she ever had a problem with me running off with you and Hunter all the time, but now I guess..." Munny's voice warped into a higher pitch and she scrunched up her nose in a nasally imitation of her mother. “I'm 'too old for it, darling', or something. Whatever!"

“Look, I'm sorry, alright," I stood up too, but kept a steady hand on the back of the bench. Did not want to take another embarrassing tumble. “You're right. I should have been a little more, uh, what's a good word? Communicative! This summer."

“Sure shoulda," she replied in a huff.

“And I'm sorry for getting all defensive. You're right. This summer was rough, I just....totally shut down, you know? After my accident, I felt stupid and embarrassed. And that just made me want to crawl into the basement, curl up in a blanket next to a video game, and waste away."

Munny turned back to me, and we locked eyes. I was immediately guilty of blushing, but I could detect a distinct flush of pink on her cheeks as well. Wordlessly, I sat back down and focused intently on the fish swimming around in the pond. Another second or two passed, then she sat down next to me.

“Hunter was just....He was acting like such a dick today! I couldn't take it. I was stressed out from the first day back too, and it just—it all...Man..."

“Mm," she hummed in vague agreement. “He was acting like a tool. I ain't blind, I could tell too. And he's always been that way, lashing out and acting up whenever he was upset. And he seemed really upset today..."

“R-Really?"

“Yeah. I had a class with him around lunch, and he was just....I dunno, he was real FIDGETY. Couldn't sit still, you know? And he wasn't talking to anyone, even though Mr. Munroe told us all to goof off and catch up and socialize. I didn't see him do nothing. Just glanced at his watch and pretended to sleep..."

Munny was going at a mile a minute. I smiled, her tone and gestures familiar to me. Comforting, in a way. I really did miss hanging out with her all summer. It wasn't a mistake I'd make a second time, that was for sure. But I had to keep it cool. I took a steadying breath and let what she said sink in.

“Sounds like he had a rough summer too. Or...maybe it was when he came back home for school. His dad. Do you think his dad's been bothering him again?"

“No, I...Well, I'm not sure. I think after Macey left for good, he shaped up and started being good to Hunter. Or at least left him alone. I mean, that's just what I hear though. Through the Moms and such..."

I nodded. Macey was Hunter's older sister by a few years. Well, half-sister, but that didn't make much of a difference. Their dad had always been sort of a roughneck. Usually it just amounted to him being a cantankerous neighbor, but he had a bad habit of getting “laid off" at work the past few years. Munny and I had started to suspect he'd been taking all of his pent-up aggression out on his kids. There were never any bruises, or at least none that I could see. It was just...there was a word for this, too. On the tip of my tongue. Toxic.

You didn't need to get bruised to show you'd been hurt.

But a half a year ago or so, Macey left for good, and moved out. Hunter told me she found a place with an old friend out in Tennessee and was waitressing somewhere. Not great money or anything, but it was a good life. She was at least away from anyone who would hurt her.

“Right. Maybe, though."

“Maybe," Munny echoed. “And, well, I dunno if I have the permission to tell you this, but--"

“What?"

“Hunter's granddad died this summer. While he was out there." Munny added the last part quietly, almost a whisper.

“Oh, I uh...I didn't hear that." Should have called. “What happened? He was old, I guess, but not that old. And he was really fit for his age, too..."

“That's the thing. It's just an ugly rumor, I hope, but..." Emotion strained her voice up an octave. “I heard it wasn't anything natural. Heard he got attacked by something on the farm."

“Attacked?" I balked. Couldn't have been a burglary or anything. They were so far out there. And they had guns.

“Like by an animal," she confirmed. “Something big. The poor man was torn up and dead on the edge of their farm. Found him the next morning, and—and..."

Munny coughed, stifling back a tear. I didn't try to coax anything more out of her. My hand gravitated to her shoulder in an attempt to show sympathy. She seemed to respond to this, but not in the way I thought. Munny put a hand gently on my knee, just above the brace.

“I, uh...That's....that's awful. But it's JUST a rumor, right?"

“I sure hope so," she said quietly. “But either way, Hunter's granddad is gone. That had to mess him up a bit this summer."

“Yeah," I agreed. And then, without thinking, I added, “Fuck...I can't believe I didn't even know."

“A-Anyways," Munny stammered. “I know that's a real weird place to leave off, but I should probably be getting home..."

“Alright," I said sadly. “Do you want me to walk you home? I know it's getting kind of dark."

“That's alright, Ian," she giggled. “Besides, y'all would just slow me down. Ain't nothing to worry about really, I've walked home later than this before. And done it like a million times."

“If you say so," I said. I couldn't help but think of Hunter's Grandfather; none of us were as safe as we thought sometimes. Still, I resolved to smile for her sake. “But Munny—Meredith! Thanks for stopping by. And talking to me, and stuff."

“No problem, hun. Just promise me y'all won't do anything like this ever again."

“Yeah, no kidding. I'll remember the world-class chewing-out you gave me."

“Aw, shut it! But okay. I'll see you tomorrow, on the bus?"

“Yep," I affirmed.

Munny sprung up from the bench and then dusted off her skirt. I followed suit, struggling to stay spry despite the pain in my leg. I at least decided to walk her to the end of the driveway. It was probably the longest (and darkest) part of the walk anyways, considering she just lived down the road. I knew once she hit her driveway it was an easy stroll down a perfectly-manicured, garden-lined lane. I waved her goodbye once we ventured beyond the mailbox and promised her that we'd actually sit down and have dinner one night very soon.

I hobbled back towards my house. The pounding ache in my leg was reaching an all-time high, comparable to the early post-surgery days. Hopefully I hadn't actually damaged anything. My doctor had given me leave to walk at a slow pace for as long as I was comfortable; the hard-healing occurred while I was immobilized over the summer. Now it was just a matter of getting the blood flowing, so to speak.

Eventually, I made it back inside and finally had time to scarf down some dinner. Mom left a plate out for me, piled reasonably high with a few squares of lasagna. I wolfed it down, then relayed hand-picked snippets of my conversation with Munny. Eventually, my parents seemed satisfied. I hoped they finally realized I was actually doing well. None of the endlessly long, depressing days of this past summer. Those were behind me.

Tomorrow, I would make a change. Officially. I excused myself after dinner and then retreated to my room. I meticulously prepared everything I would need for the following day, from an outfit that I felt good about to binders arranged in order of which classes I had first. Gym clothes too, for working out. I flipped on my boombox, then cringed as the most recent and criminally-catchy Boyz II Men song blared, the song already halfway through.

Eventually, I deemed myself adequately prepared and spent the remainder of the night leafing through some old comics and magazines. I then shucked my clothes, turned off the music, and found myself incredibly tired despite my nap earlier in the day.

I drifted off with my window partially open, soothed by the sounds of the night. Crickets chirping, frogs peeping in the woods, trees rustling in the wind. I could make out a moonlit skyline of forest from my bed. A cool breeze blew into the room; I rolled myself tighter in my blankets before finally falling into sleep.

...

“Aah!"

I awoke only a few hours later. Impossible to tell what time it was; I thrashed around, throwing sheets and a comforter off of my body. I was incredibly hot, covered in sweat. A damp impression, the size of my backside, soaked the bed. I heaved several lungfuls of air and then sat up.

A dream. Or a nightmare, I guess. Dread was a cold grip around my throat. Whatever ghostly impressions on the cusp of my mind slipped away into the dark recesses of my subconscious. I could only remember a vague choking sensation. The pathetic mewl of my last breath. Some sort of sound too, a howl maybe. Or a crash. I recalled a lot of nightmares about wrecking the bike in the first month or so after my surgery. Maybe they wouldn't ever leave me.

Everything seemed fine, though. My room was normal. Dark. I rubbed my brow in aggravation and felt a film of sweat there as well.

“Just a dream. A really bad dream..." I whispered to myself and heaved my body out of bed.

I inched closer to the window. The midnight breeze felt refreshingly cold against my moist skin. I stretched, letting the wind rub against my chest and torso. I took a deep breath of the crisp night air and then looked outside. The moon hung almost directly overhead: a luminous, pearl-white orb that stared down at me from ink-black sky. My eyes drifted to the edge of the woods at my backyard.

There. I could have sworn I saw something. It shifted slightly in the moonlit air. Not just a thicket of leaves, or a tree branch. Something with density, low to the ground; something capable of a purposeful retreat into the cover of the woods. I remained transfixed on whatever it was, squinting through the impermeable wall of black branches. Seconds passed, or minutes maybe, and I saw it again. A silhouette, large and nearly invisible underneath claw-shaped boughs, just on the edge of our property.

Eyes. I saw the unmistakable glint of eyes through the dark foliage, two circular lights spaced a head's width apart. I gasped and stepped back in stark shock, even though there was realistically nothing that could happen to me. It was just a raccoon or something. Maybe a bear, if we were unlucky. They had a bad habit of roaming around in the fall, scavenging for anything they could get their paws on. Bird-feeders were a known target.

I reached down and flicked on my light, turning a switch near the floor. It took a few seconds, but my hanging light eventually sputtered to life, casting a glow on the postered walls of my room. I grunted, then squinted. My eyes had grown accustomed to the dark. It was much harder to make sense of anything outside, but I heard a rustling, followed by the sound of feet tromping through the woods and away from my house.

It was impossible to say why, but...for some reason it made me nervous. It was like trying to read a menu in a foreign language. I felt like I was missing something, misreading the interaction, or not at all comprehending what lurked right in front of me under the cover of darkness.

But it was time to go back to bed. I killed the lights, quietly walked across the hall to the bathroom, and went to sleep not soon after.

“Guess I was right to trust that feeling, though."

~~

'Fuck.'

I was still in shock. We rolled up the driveway, my Mom and me in her car. We had sat mostly in silence for the entire ride back from the doctor's office. A long appointment. It was a “specialist," after all, located near D.C. Really annoying to drive there once every few weeks. I assumed it would all be over soon. No more brace and no more trips into the city under such miserable circumstances. This specialist, though, hadn't exactly minced words when he told me that it wasn't clear if I would ever have the full motion back in my leg.

My eyes lost focus as I gazed towards the house. It all felt like a weird dream. Maybe if I could drift to sleep, I'd wake up in a few hours and find out that it all was just a really depressing, mundane nightmare. To think, I'd taken off school today for this shit. It had been a little over a month since we started back, and things had been going so well...

If only it WAS just a bad dream. I felt tired, groggy from the drugs that they had given me. You had to remain absolutely still when they x-rayed you, so sometimes anesthetics helped. I definitely dozed off a few times and my mind was still mired in a haze.

We pulled up to the side of the house and my mom opened the door on her side of the car. Our garage door wasn't electronic, so you had to get out and lift the thing up yourself. It was inconvenient for the driver, but I think my mom didn't want to bother me.

“You don't have to get it," I said, rousing myself. I slipped on a single shoe which had been discarded at some point during the drive. “I can just walk up front."

“Are you sure?" she asked in that concerned, motherly tone.

“Yeah. You have to get Morgan from school, right?"

She nodded. My little sister was like me in a lot of ways, but we did differ. She never exactly had the patience or desire to ride the bus all the way back from her middle school. It was annoying, true, but I had used that time to socialize with my friends and make the slow rumble down the road much more enjoyable. Morgan, not so much. Thankfully, our mom was gracious enough to pick her up nearly every day.

“Mm hmm. I'll run some errands, too, since I'll have some time. You want anything special for dinner? I can swing by the store."

“No, not really," I said with a sigh and hopped out of the car. My leg was sore. All the stretching and moving around without the brace.

“Alright," she nodded. “And Ian, twelve more weeks won't be that bad. Just think of how far you've made it in that thing already."

“Yeah."

A few minutes later, Mom was off. I really did appreciate how she was trying to make me feel better about the situation, but...it was hopeless. I was here, stuck in this brace and watching the world go by, entirely due to my own stupidity. One dumb, rash decision. I stared down at my brace and clenched my fists. Then, without thinking, I rushed over to the garage door and threw it open with a loud, poignant crash.

It curled against the ceiling of the garage, clattering like a big bag of quarters. My gaze flitted around the room wildly--I saw it there. My dad's motorcycle. It was largely repaired from the accident, having suffered a good few dents and a busted sidebar. However, it lacked the pristine, polished hide from its early years. Nonetheless, I saw the faceplate glint from the afternoon light spilling into the garage. The damn thing was almost taunting me.

I couldn't say why, but I walked over to the bike glowered over it. My eyes dashed from its reconstructed frame to my own brace, and I scowled. I ran a hand over the profile of the bike, tracing the edges and curves. My hand lingered over the Yamaha logo.

“...Not fair," I mumbled. “I knew I could ride you. I did. And now I'm stuck being half a cripple for the rest of my life. Doctor said that I'm probably never going to get full motion back. And yet I'm still stuck in this thing for another three months just in case."

It was insane, venting to the bike. I needed to talk to someone or something, though, and this thing was the closest I had to the crux of all of my problems. A center for my misery. I gave it a petulant push. The motorcycle wobbled on its kickstand. Not satisfied, I reared back my good leg and gave it a walloping kick. My shoe bounced off of the tire. The bike shifted precariously, one wheel slightly off the ground.

The Yamaha wobbled fiercely and I made a motion to dive forward and stop it from crashing to the ground. But I was still off-balance from the erratic kick, and slow from my brief bout of physical therapy. The drugs weren't exactly helping things either. I gasped and felt myself hit the ground. An unwieldy leg went and slid against the already-unstable bike. It lurched and then came tumbling down on me. The bike pinned me under its full weight.

“FUCK!" I shouted.

The handlebars spun to face the ceiling and the neck of the bike had my good leg's thigh pinned. My brace had been caught foot-side as well, and the bike pressed down against the plastic. It didn't give, but the pressure spread out into my swollen foot. What was a persistent and dull pain quickly cranked up intensity. I cried out again.

I struggled uselessly against the weight of the bike. It pinned me at an awkward angle, with no way to plant my weight and push. I wriggled, figured maybe I could work a leg out from underneath the innards of the bike. However, I realized that the more I moved my good leg, the more pressure was applied to my bad leg; and there was no way to make my brace even budge under the weight. I lay there, prone, maintaining a pain equilibrium and trying to think of a way out of this. One that didn't involve my Mom and sister coming home to see this sorry sight in a few hours.

“So, what, you're gonna give up?"

I craned my neck around to look behind me. A very upside-down image of Hunter stood in the mouth of the garage. He wore a wifebeater and a pair of shorts. The mid-afternoon October sun caused light to glimmer off his blond hair like a crown of light.

“I—what? How did you? Wait, how much of that did you hear?" I stammered, breath heavy.

“I heard enough," Hunter said. “So you're stuck in your brace for another few months? Big fucking deal. You seem to love the attention it's giving you at school."

“That's not...No."

“Really?" he said mockingly. “Because I've heard nothing else except for your sorry ass this past month. Either you complaining every morning on the bus, or everyone else talking about how messed up it was that some car made you wreck your daddy's precious bike."

“I...fuck," I huffed. “Dude, can we save the attitude for another day? Maybe you could HELP ME OUT HERE?"

I locked eyes with Hunter. They glinted a shade of gold I had never really noticed until recently. I read supreme boredom in his expression, but his body seemed tense and ready to spring into action. With an over-the-top sigh, he closed the distance between us in a few strides and bent down over me.

I turned my gaze to the bike on top of me, wedged both hands underneath of it, and heaved. Hunter planted his feet adjacent to my shoulders, then bent down to search for a grip. I kept my eyes bike-wards, since his crotch was awkwardly right above my face. One of his hands clamped around the underside of the bike and his other found a grip on the handlebar. Almost effortlessly, I felt him heave, and the motorcycle rose. I felt a sudden release of pressure on my lower half and quickly scrambled out, dragging my heavy, numb legs behind me.

My hands released their grip. It didn't even seem to matter from Hunter's perspective. He bore the whole weight of the motorcycle, and hefted it almost effortlessly to its wheels before popping out the kickstand.

I gasped for a full breath and sat on the ground with my legs askew for another few seconds. With a nod, I felt Hunter wedge his hands under my armpits. Suddenly, I was airborne. I landed on sore feet with little warning a second later. A jolt of resistive pain shot through my legs and I staggered, but I fought against my unsteady knees to stay up. I put a hand on Hunter's bare shoulder for support and then smiled.

“So, uh....why aren't you at school, exactly?" I asked.

“Heh," he chuckled. “Didn't feel like it. Something came up."

“Oh, uh..." I searched for the most elegant way to broach a sore subject. “Your...Dad? Is he...?"

“No."

“Oh."

“Something else," Hunter said.

“I...well. Thanks," I bit the bullet and forced myself to say it.

“For what?"

“The bike, moron," I sighed. “I just mean, thanks, and...well, damn, that thing was heavy. And you just sort of grabbed it, no sweat."

“Guess so. It wasn't too heavy."

I cracked a smile. Hunter put on his tough face, which looked much more so since his transformation. He seemed to weather my compliments and niceties for the sake of looking cool, or aloof, or whatever he was trying for. It was a total dick move, but it for once reminded me of my old childhood friend. I took a deep breath and walked out of the garage. My legs still ached. I just needed some fresh air. The soft crunch of gravel underneath Hunter's boots alerted me to his presence.

“And," he began, a sigh to match my own. “You're welcome, I guess."

“There's the charm I remember."

“Hmph. So, what, now you're flirting with me? Gay."

“Alright, whatever," I grumbled.

We just stood there in silence for a long minute. I shifted my weight between legs, trying to regain some feeling without the pain. As convenient as it would be to sit down, it was the last thing I wanted to do after being strapped to an x-ray machine and physical therapy table for the better part of the day. Hunter seemed to grow antsy; he made the first move and stepped forward a few paces. I sensed a curious, agitated look in his body language.

“Woods," he stated. “Want to go down?"

“Sure," I nodded.

I probably shouldn't have, not with my leg. However, I was restless. I hadn't been down in the woods behind our collective houses in some time. Not since my accident, I reminded myself. Plus, this was the longest conversation I'd had with Hunter in almost half a year. I wasn't going to blow it by complaining about my stupid leg.

We walked around behind my house. Perched on the ridge, the woods only came up to the backyard and surrounding road. They were surprisingly thick and continuous, even with suburban expansion threatening to trim at every turn. Virginia forests just had a habit of sticking around and choking out the urban sprawl for as long as they could. I couldn't help but smile as I followed Hunter down the path and over the makeshift log steps my dad installed when we first cut a trail down there. Already, the trees were blocking out a lot of the sunlight. After another minute into the descent, it felt like a cool, October evening.

“Dang, been a while since I've been down here," I commented absently, batting an errant branch out of the way.

“Mm," Hunter grunted. “Yeah. Not since, well....before the summer, I think."

“Right. Sorry about that."

He shrugged. I followed without another word as we leveled out in the calm and dark creek basin. The musical trickle of running water danced at my ears. Images of my childhood spent down here, with Hunter and Munny and my late dog, flashed in my memory. Ghostly scenes from our shared pasts.

Hunter crashed through a low-hanging branch and stomped through the creek, which was still shallow from a particularly dry summer. Even considering that, it was a bit slower of a go with my brace and sore legs. I didn't want to get the pads inside of my equipment wet and caked with dirt. Disassembling the damn thing to clean it was sort of a time-intensive process. I stepped carefully, wedging my bad foot against a big rock, and took an awkwardly-large stride over to the opposing bank.

“I'm, uh...sorry. To hear about your granddad." I ventured.

Hunter froze, and his hand lingered on another branch that he was folding out of the way. A split second later, he crushed the sinewy wood in his grip. It splintered to the ground. I couldn't help but notice how slight the twitch of his hand had been.

“Yeah. Thanks," he said curtly without making eye contact.

“Sorry, I uh....heard from Meredith—Munny. I mean, well..."

“Right," Hunter nodded. “You and her, you've been...hanging out a lot, right?"

He half-turned towards me, and I got a view of his profile. His long blond hair was brushed back from the constant scraping against foliage and from being pushed out of his eyes. I noticed a small twig sticking from the mane. He was incredibly lean, bordering on muscular, and I made note of a smattering of hair on his chest. A much different sight than I remembered, even when compared to the start of the school year. He was more muscular, or maybe just bore more definition on his muscles. Hunter leaned back and sat on a huge rock. With a push of his feet, he scaled the side of it effortlessly, and rested himself spread-legged on the makeshift seat.

“Yeah, I—we, have," I finally said, snapping out of a trance. Had sort of been caught up in staring at him.

“Munny's always been really cool," he said plainly. “Like, yeah, she's always had cash, and been a bit stuck-up, but...she's nice. Easy to talk to."

“Mm," I nodded.

His head swiveled around. We locked eyes. “And that's why you like her, right?"

“Uh...yeah! That's why you do too, right? It's why we all--"

“No. It's why you LIKE her, right. Like want to be with her, hang out, just the two of you. Right?"

I turned away. Tried to hide a red flush seeping into my face. “Yeah. I-I mean, whatever. I guess I never really thought about it like that. But maybe."

“Yeah? That's why I used to like her, too. Easy to talk with. Have a conversation."

I met his eyes again. Is that what this was all about? It all started to make sense. Hunter's moodiness. Getting pissed off at me for no reason. His change in physique was probably to impress the only girl that we'd both ever really shown any interest in. Our best friend.

“I—well, shit. It's....you know, honestly, we're still just friends. I don't really even know what she's looking for, you know? I don't even think she likes me or anything. I mean, not in...THAT way. You know?" I felt sweat on my forehead. Never had much of a poker face when I was pressed like this.

“She does," Hunter stated with a nod.

I didn't sense any hostility from him, exactly. Or hesitation. It was just sort of like he was commenting on the weather.

“Oh! Alright then. Sheesh, I...I didn't know she like....LIKE-liked me, you know?"

“What is this, elementary school?" he asked, brow furrowing. “She digs you."

“Yeah? Huh." I was, for lack of a better word, speechless.

“Not sure what she sees in you, really." He smirked mockingly as he said it. “I mean, a busted-up leg, and you've definitely packed on a few pounds. But hey, maybe she's got a soft spot for charity cases?"

“Heh. Screw you, man. I've been losing a little bit of weight!" I shot back. “But, seriously...If, you know, you think that's weird, or if YOU'RE interested in her, then I mean, there's nothing official. We're friends."

“Right. Friends."

“Plus, I wouldn't want it to screw up the three of us, you know?"

“Mm," another grunt. “Do whatever you want, man. Like I said, I used to have a thing for her. At least, that's how I remember it. Not anymore."

“Oh, right. Cool, I guess."

Another bout of silence gripped us. I leaned against a tree idly, watching Hunter. He seemed a little less tense, but still not the friend that I knew. Without a word, he hopped down from the boulder and pressed on, walking along the makeshift path that we had blazed through the woods since we were kids. The route was instinctual, stamped into my memory, even if the trail itself had become somewhat unkempt.

My heart thundered in my chest. The walk was comparably tame, but it was still fairly vigorous exercise compared to all the laying about I had been doing since the accident. Actually figuring out and confronting my feelings for Munny felt liberating, too. A lightness fluttered in my chest at the thought of her name. It was good to talk it all out with Hunter, rekindle a bit of the friendship we lost over the course of the summer.

We stopped and stood next to each other atop a rocky outcropping that overlooked a small waterfall. The creek flowed several feet down the exposed bedrock and into a large pool teeming with frogs and minnows. A few water striders lazily glided across the tiny pond, leaving ripples in their wake. A sublime nook in the woods, one I often visited.

“A lot of good memories here," I nodded.

“Mm."

“Hunter, uh...thanks, man."

“For what?" He didn't look to me, just simply hopped down the slope and landed next to the mossy bank of the small pool.

“For, uh...I dunno, just talking things out with me, I guess," I said. It wasn't enough, so I pressed further. “After my accident, I guess I sort of got really depressed. Withdrew away from people and stuff. I just felt really stupid and useless. Like, crashing my dad's bike? What kind of lame, spoiled idiot am I?"

“You're...not stupid," Hunter said. He actually looked at me this time. I traced his line of sight from below, and saw something strange in those golden eyes.

I couldn't really describe it. Dangerous. Like a snake slowly coiling.

“I guess I'm trying to apologize AGAIN, for sort of, uh, not talking to you over the summer? It seems kind of stupid to say it out loud, but...yeah."

“I get it," he grunted. “S'fine."

“Good, because....that's really been eating at me, I guess. I didn't talk to you, sort of fucked up our, uh...relationship? I was just stuck at home, eating away the hours. There was this stuff about college, and thinking about Munny, and--"

“College, right. Yeah, I don't...really know about that. It's for the best you didn't have me around to chat with, heh."

“What do you mean? I thought you were reconsidering, and gonna start thinking about applications?" I slowly clambered down the slope as well, using a hand to guide my unreliable feet to the bank next to Hunter.

“I don't really think I have the grades or whatever," he said.

“It's not all about grades, plus there's like...community college, and stuff, so—"

“Just...nah, man. I don't want to talk about it."

“Fair enough," I said.

We stood in silence again. I was content to just breathe in the sweet taste of the woodland air and reminisce. I didn't know what ran through Hunter's head, but I couldn't help thinking about one summer in particular where he and I dragged Meredith down here. It was a long time ago. We lead her all the way to the river. It was her first time in the woods, and she only relented on the promise that we'd help her see a baby deer.

“Remember when we tried to run across a baby deer, for Mun—Meredith?"

Hunter smiled. “Yeah. Why a baby deer, though?"

“Not sure, I always sort of wondered that, too," I replied. “She probably just thinks they're cute or whatever."

“Dumb," Hunter scoffed. “Deer are the worst."

“Yeah, she's...kind of a girly-girl. But I like her. I was glad to uh, talk to you about her. Hash it out and stuff."

“Mm," Another sore subject? “Yeah, she's...something."

“We should...all come down here together again, sometime?" I suggested. “I mean, maybe after my leg is a little bit better, I guess."

“Nah," Hunter said. “Munny and I, we...don't really get along anymore."

“Oh." And then, stupidly, “Wait...why?"

“Nothing important," Hunter said. His fists clenched. “Just forget about it. I'm gonna keep walking."

“Dude, no! Wait a sec." I reached forward and grabbed him by the arm as he turned to walk further into the woods.

Hunter stopped, but not really from any effort on my part. I could feel his body tense as my fingers clenched around his forearm. He spun his head around and looked down at my hand. I expected anger, maybe a grunt of disgust, but his eyes lingered on my hand. He bit his lip. There was something. I wasn't sure what, but there was some sort of momentary energy between us. A spark, a bolt of emotion that flashed like lightning and then dissipated again.

I felt Hunter wrench his arm away. He scowled. It was an indescribably cosmic, wordless exchange. My gut ached; not like a pain in my battered leg, but something sharp and uncomfortable all the same. I was nervous, but...excited? That spark had jumped into me and gave me some sort of charge.

“What's wrong with you?" Hunter growled.

“I...nothing, I just. You...nevermind. DUDE!" I snapped out of it, shaking my head, and got back to the topic at hand. “You just told me how cool Meredith was and how you'd be cool with us maybe being a THING, and then...you don't get along with her? Since when? What's that about?"

“Ian, I don't--"

“Come on, man. I can't in good faith ask her out or anything if I know there's bad blood there. If you really DO like her, it's cool, I just--"

“Don't fucking drag me into it!" Hunter shouted. “Enough with this bitchy high school BULLSHIT! If you like her, ask her out. Don't blame me if you can't nut up and do it. I don't like her. I don't want to deal with her."

“DEAL with her?" I shot back, my anger bubbling over as well. “Deal like HOW? Deal with someone trying to have your back and be a good friend to you?"

“So you KNOW?" he roared.

“What...?"

“Munny! Meredith! Whatever the fuck you wanna call her!" He roared, punctuated every word with wild swipes of his hands. He nearly knocked me to the ground. I retreated a pace as Hunter's fury took hold. “She called the cops on my dad! Had them busting into my place because she thought he was hassling me and my sister."

“She...what?"

I knew the police had been called on Hunter's dad before but had no idea Munny was the likely culprit. An unspoken rule between us, not to interfere with Hunter's chaotic home life.

“She was worried about you, man. We all were. Your dad, he was...well, he got a little too rowdy with you guys."

“Yeah, no shit," Hunter fumed. “He's MY dad, I know how much he fucking sucks! But it's my problem, my shit to deal with. Even now. Especially now. I'm not the chubby, punk-ass little kid anymore!"

“I get it man, I do. But she was just trying to watch out for you."

Hunter scowled. “You don't get it. Your perfect fucking family and now your perfect fucking girlfriend. Not sure why I even brought it up. Forget about it."

“Honestly..."I didn't want to drop this topic. “I wish it was me. Someone should have done something sooner. Called."

“No, fuck that. It's no one's business. I can handle the old man now. He knows to watch his step. Only wish I'd been able to do this sooner."

“So that's what all...this is about?" I gestured to Hunter, waving up and down at his body. “The acting tough, skipping school, the...muscles? Dude."

“Whatever, man. Like it or not, I don't need your fucking go-ahead for anything I do."

“Hunter--"

He turned away again, this time with no indication of waiting up. This wasn't how I wanted things to go. I reached out and grabbed his arm again. Hunter responded, predictably, by pulling away. He easily wrenched free of my grip. I tried to hang on, but was knocked off-balance. I felt my center of gravity shift as my body leaned back. My feet left the ground. I thrashed my hands forward and grabbed onto Hunter, pulling him down with me.

With a splash, we both landed in a shallow edge of the pool. Cold water seeped into my jacket and stung at my backside. The feeling shot down my spine, and my legs gave a twinge of pain. The water splashed into my brace, the spongy pads soaking it right up. The cool water did little to dull what was now a pulse of pain beneath my brace that raced alongside my heart.

“Fuck!" I gasped then and spat water out of my mouth. “My leg!"

I must have knocked my leg hard against something, or in the worst-case scenario, twisted my ankle. The pain was a slow burn at first, but now it fully took hold of me. My leg felt like it was caught in a compactor. It was propped up at an awkward angle against the bank of the pool. Hunter flailed on top of me and pushed off of my chest. He easily fought out of my grip and stood up in knee-deep water.

“You're fine!" he hissed. “Just get off me!"

Something closed around my throat. I began rising out of the water. I realized after blinking off my shock that Hunter had me by the scruff of my hoodie. His other hand reached around and steadied on my back. He almost effortlessly pulled me out of the water, despite my soaking mass being a good deal heavier.

“I—what the FUCK, man?" I yelled, and tried to push him away.

And then, something came completely out of left field. Hunter grabbed me on the shoulders. It was firm, but not painful. I couldn't have escaped, even if I knew what was happening. I grunted in quiet protest. He pulled our wet bodies together. His lips locked with mine and we were frozen there, a moment in time. In those few seconds, I felt a lot happen. A heat swam over my face. Then, I gasped and our tongues met. I returned his kiss. Finally, something stirred in my pants.

“What the FUCK, man?!" I repeated and pulled away. Hunter's hands still firmly locked me in place, though, and he tensed. My shoulders felt the pressure. It momentarily stole attention from the pain in my leg.

“Ian..." he said quietly, meeting my gaze. I unmistakably sensed lust in those golden eyes. How could I have been so oblivious?

“I don't...I-I'm sorry, but..."

“I know you want this," Hunter said, his voice low. “I could sense it. Smell it. I still can. You...and me...? This is the way it's supposed to be."

“I-I'm not," I started, shivering with nerves. I couldn't finish the thought, though. The tent in my jeans told me that I was.

“I'm sorry," Hunter cooed into my ear, his breath hot and moist. “I've been going through a lot of changes, and...I wanted to share them with you. I'm sorry I've been avoiding you, and getting pissed at everything, it's just..."

“What?" I whispered back.

“I think I'm in love with you. I...need you."

The grip on my shoulders tightened ever so slightly. Hunter pulled in close again and put his mouth near my bare neck, caressing my exposed flesh with wet lips. I tensed and took a breath. A million thoughts swirled around my head like angry hornets. I bit my lip and closed my eyes, willing this to stop. I wasn't scared. At least, I didn't think I was. I just wished it would all stop for a few minutes; if the world would just lend me a couple of moments to collect myself, that's all I needed.

To see if I wanted to do this.

“Let's...." I chose my words carefully. “Start a bit slower. Love? You're...in love with me?"

“Yeah," he confirmed, pulling away. His face hovered in front of mine and we stared into each others' eyes once again. “At least, I think so. Maybe. I just....know that I need to do this. Even though it isn't like how I wanted it to be."

“Uh...how did you want it to be?" I asked.

“Not...well, not wet. Or yelling at you. Or...getting so fucking mad. Thinking about my dad. None of that," he said, almost too quickly for me to follow.

“Gotcha," I said. “I uh, honestly, don't...I don't know. I've never really thought about you like this. Or like, not just you, any guy. I--"

“Me neither!" Hunter nodded. There was an energy to his voice; his grip on me loosened. It let me shift my weight and back up a little. “I didn't ever consider it, but...Ian. It was over the summer, all of this stuff happened, and I did some serious thinking, and...I know it's you. After all these years, since we were kids. Being best friends. And then it HIT me, you know? I was in love with you. I thought about you, and...and...I wanted you."

“Uh....wow," I stammered.

“And you...I know things have been different between us. I think it's my fault. Have I been a dick?"

“N-not entirely?" I choked out. “I mean, I guess, but now...now I think I understand everything, better...And...huh, yeah. It makes sense."

“So..."

“I dunno!" I blurted. I felt a combination of chills and the heat of embarrassment. It was all so sudden, all these proclamations of love. “Like I said, I never thought about it. And...it's weird right, like...? I'm not—YOU'RE not, you've...But now?"

“Yeah," Hunter mumbled. “Look, I know. I've never been THAT way, okay. But it feels right. And I know, I just know...you feel something like that too, don't you?"

“I....maybe," I admitted. “It's confusing."

“I get it," he whispered. The hands drifted away, and he took a few steps back. Hunter shrugged and spread his arms out, his whole body exposed. Unthreatening. Well, except for that thing jutting out from underneath of his belt buckle. “I had some doubts too. Some shit I had to deal with to understand it all. No one to help out at first. But here I am, giving you the choice."

“The...choice?" I repeated.

“To just accept you want it," Hunter smiled. “These things that we can't possibly know or understand. To give into desire. To just fucking...let loose, and take a risk. To be stronger. It's your choice."

I didn't fully understand what Hunter was getting at. Or how he had suddenly become so articulate. It was so different from the swearing, grunting friend that I had known for so long. So, maybe that was what helped me make my decision: the mystery, the raw power, and the attraction. I'd been the victim of other peoples' schedules and instructions for months now. It was time to make a decision for me, on my own.

So I stepped forward. I nearly tripped over myself, then put a hand on Hunter's hip and locked lips with him again.

It was a rush. In those few wordless moments, we exchanged a thousand promises. I felt his strong arms wrap around me, knead at my back, nails digging into the thick knit of my sweater. My other hand drifted up to the side of his face and I stroked his stubble-ridden cheek. I then ran my fingers through his shaggy mane of smooth blond hair.

“Glad you made your choice," he said breathily as our lips parted.

“Heh. Me too," I complied.

And it was true. It must have just been one of those things that I would have never known, had the situation not worked itself out like that. Or rather, had Hunter not worked it out for me. I didn't question anything as we locked our bodies together--I just followed his lead. He ran hands under my shirt and up my body, feeling and sighing as we kissed. He went lower suddenly, past the waistband of my boxers and worked a hand around the hard-on beneath my sweatpants. I gasped with pleasure at the touch and pulled away from Hunter's mouth.

“Whoa..." I gasped, smiling nervously.

“Heh. What?" Hunter asked, his voice hungry. He started stroking my dick.

“I just...never," I bit my lower lip, and my head lolled back for a moment. Waves of pleasure coursed through my excited member, directed by Hunter's fingertips. “Never, uh....done it, you know? So..."

“Ian," my friend whispered hoarsely, pushing our bodies closer. “Don't worry about it. We all start somewhere. It's like I said before: I get what I want. And what I want...is you."

I nodded. He wrenched my pants down, immediately followed by boxers. They had bunched up around my knees, unable to go much farther than where my leg brace started. Hunter cocked an eyebrow, but then chuckled. I looked to see his hand wrapped around the shaft of my erect dick, working it up and down. A smattering of black hairs lead down from under my shirt to around the base of my tool, as if guiding him.

“You're a lot bigger than I would have expected, man," Hunter huffed. “Not that it doesn't suit you. It does. But man, who would have thought a nice, down-to-earth guy like you was packin'?"

“Th-thanks," I said awkwardly. A smile spread across my face, though. I had never really thought about it, compared to anyone or anything, but it was nice to know. If I had to guess, my dick was probably just shy of the eight inch mark, from base to tip.

Hunter suddenly released me and backed up several steps. Cool autumn air struck me on the bare skin; I only just realized how exposed I was. Hopefully no one was about to stumble upon us, two kids in the woods, unabashedly exploring their desires. My dick ached for his firm hands again and I moaned; but I watched Hunter, and he mimicked the same spread-armed stance from moments ago.

“Alright," he said, a devilish smirk etched on his handsome face. “I said that I always get what I want, and I definitely am. But man, I want to make sure you get what you want. Ian...what do you wanna do to me?"

Wordlessly, I shuffled forward. It couldn't have been very graceful, given my situation, but I approached Hunter and stared hungrily into his eyes. Tentatively, I moved a hand to the bottom of his wifebeater. Another hand looped fingers around the fabric near his neck. It was as if I was possessed, my hands and motions guided by some cosmic force outside of my comparatively small body. I slowly pulled the garment off and threw it to the ground.

Hunter's lean and chiseled torso glistened into view. I smiled and a chill ran down my spine, all the way through my excited member. His muscles were defined; broad shoulders guided the eyes to his strong arms, and back to his chest. Two golden, tanned pecs, with a dusting of brownish-blond hair, and a line of that same hair drawing down over his stomach. Tight abs, visible under his taught, freckled skin. The hair grew slightly denser as my eyes traveled further south, and I saw the bulge that yearned to be free.

I ran a curious hand over his chest. The muscles contracted at my touch. I was jealous, seeing a specimen so unlike myself, standing here in front of me. The male body had never really seemed that alluring to me, but now I wanted nothing more than to explore it, run my hands over every curve and swell of Hunter's chest and back. As I thought this, it happened, and I soon found a hand groping near the seat of his pants.

“So..." He rumbled. My curiosity earned a passionate kiss. “You like it?"

“...Yeah," I responded, lightheaded.

“Good. Now the fun really begins!"

He grabbed me and guided me several steps back. A hand on my chest, Hunter gently pushed me down to the sloping hill behind me. My legs gave way and I settled backwards, slightly-uncomfortable with the feeling of grass on my bare ass. But I was excited. I looked down at my dick, which was still at full attention. There was a bead of semi-clear liquid at the tip.

Suddenly, it was blocked from view as Hunter kneeled down and my dick vanished into his mouth. He sucked wildly, hungrily, his head bobbing up and down.

“Whoa!" I exclaimed.

I leaned back, elbows propped on the mossy slope behind me. It was hard to fathom this was happening; me, laid-up and out of shape, getting sucked off by my tenuous best friend, who had transformed himself into an athletic badass over the course of a single summer. Maybe the drugs from my trip to the doctor's office were clouding my judgment. It was simultaneously unbelievable, and felt completely RIGHT. I suddenly realized this is what was supposed to happen; it was a natural progression of the relationship between Hunter and me. From friends to, well, to lovers.

I figured it was enough musing for the time being. My dick agreed too--I found it increasingly-difficult to pay my thoguhts much heed. My hand drifted over to the back of Hunter's head and I stroked his hair, admiring the rhythmic motion of his bobbing hhead. His eager mouth around my dick, coaxing out more pleasure every moment that passed. I groaned, lost in a sea of unexpected pleasure.

My first time. With a guy? It was never how I expected, but...was this better? I supposed I'd never know otherwise.

“Ohhhh, fuck..." I whispered. A pressure rose from within my member like an electric bolt of pleasure. It made my whole body shake.

Hunter wrenched himself free from my dick. I looked down and re-focused my vision to see his arms straining to hold him above the tip of my dick. He panted heavily and a strand of drool ran from his lips to the tip of my cock.

“Heh, that's....a good look for you," I said, cracking a smile.

He did as well, but it was overshadowed by a look of crazed lust. Hunter's hands raced to his belt buckle and he undid it in one quick motion. He swayed his hips, and the pants fell, the buckle clattering to the ground. I smirked; Hunter wasn't even wearing any underwear. He stepped away from his discarded pants, head held high and his own dick rigid in anticipation. It was a bit shorter than mine, but still nice, I thought. Lean and streamlined. Athletic.

“Like what you see?" Hunter rumbled, puffing his chest out for the full effect, confidence dripping off of his tongue.

“Y-yeah," I stammered, completely awestruck. I reached out a hand, and playfully groped at Hunter's member. It was warm in my palm and bobbed in the air as I retracted my hand.

“You ready?" He approached me, legs spread wide, and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah..." I said, lost in a haze. “Wait, what...for?"

“You're gonna fuck me," Hunter commanded.

I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded. He grunted and stepped forward, digging his hiking shoes into the base of the slope. Now directly above me, his knees bent, Hunter reached back to grab the top of my shaft, still slick with his saliva. With little hesitation, he lowered himself slightly and directed my dick into the cleft of his perfectly round ass. We sighed in unison as I felt the firm resistance of soft skin.

“Oh fuck!" I cried out.

His grip tightened around my shoulder. The twinge of pain mixed with a pulse of carnal pleasure as I felt myself penetrate him. My dick slipped a few inches into his asshole, through a ring of tight muscle. A warm sensation enveloped my dick. The saliva that Hunter had left on my shaft allowed me a smooth entry into his underside. I grinned, panting.

“Fffffffuck," He hissed.

I felt my hips buck, an involuntary reaction to the newfound pleasure. I pushed further into Hunter. He grit his teeth and slid further down, now attacking his dick with a fast-moving hand. His legs strained, thick muscle bulging from his thighs as he supported himself. He was a stud, an athelete, deftly working my dick with his ass. Up and down he went, groaning and muttering to himself. Almost as if he was reminding himself how good it felt.

“Yeah," I let slip, as his ass bottomed out.

I felt my balls nuzzle the peach fuzz on the clef of his rear, my dick buried inside of him. I felt the undulation of his walls around me, in tandem with his breath, his heart. It felt as if I was lost in a fog for the moment. The drugs I received at the doctor's office must have really loosened me up, warmed me to the possibility of fucking my best friend. Or maybe it was something I had always wanted, deep down.

Enough with the self-monologue. I stared longingly into Hunter's golden eyes. He met my gaze and learned forward. Our lips tangled into another kiss. His tongue worked against mine and I felt a string of spit roll down the end of my mouth. All the while, he rocked himself atop my cock.

A wave of pleasure gripped the base of my shaft. It was familiar, and I immediately recognized what was about to happen. The charge of orgasm ran up my dick and I suddenly pulled Hunter down. His hole fully swallowed my member.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhh...." He groaned, head lolling back.

“Fuck, dude," I gasped. “This is unreal."

I felt a hot splatter against my face and neck. I glanced down, then saw Hunter's own dick quiver and a stream of gooey semen painted my profile. I grinned sheepishly.

“Well that's a first," I sighed.

There was something about that. The feeling of causing another guy to orgasm—it made me feel incredible. Not in a sense of domination, but in a sense of accomplishment. Giving him your all, the prime form of sex. Something clicked in my brain in that moment. Maybe it was aided by the obfuscating haze of pleasure and lingering anesthetic, but....I felt right.

“...Awesome," I choked out.

We stopped moving for the moment. The intensity of my own impending orgasm dialed back as Hunter sat there, recovering from his moment of thrill.

“See Ian," he leaned forward and whispered into my ear. I gasped as I felt my dick stir inside him again. “I'm glad I could share this with you. I knew you wanted it. It sounds crazy, but...I could sense it."

Hunter was a hair's width away from my face. His breath moved down towards my neck. I felt him kiss me tenderly, almost suckling. There was a dull edge of a tooth, and then he spoke again.

“Share my strength. Let me make you into a man," he said dreamily. He moved up and down on my cock again, stirring it back to bursting. The friction of his innards along my member was too much. I shivered and then moaned. Hunter was in control, whatever he was doing.

And I didn't want it to stop!

“...Just like he's done for me," my friend mumbled. His breath seared my neck.

“What do you mean?" I whispered back. “...Who?"

“You'll see, eventually," Hunter said, adjusting himself. The wet pressure on my dick shifted and then he resumed a frantic pace, bobbing up and down on my member. I lost the ability to concentrate; Hunter had me completely under his thrall. “I was weak, and now I'm strong. I'll do the same for you. Just....one...BITE!"

“FFFFFFUCK!" I screamed.

Hunter slammed himself down on my dick and I felt the eruption of my hot seed inside of him. It coated the tip of my dick and the surrounding walls. At the same time, I felt a pressure on my neck. An instant later, sharp teeth punctured my skin and blood spilled out of my breached flesh. I writhed and struggled, but it was useless. Grappled to the ground, a body on top of me, Hunter's strong hands held down my arms.

He growled. Hunter growled and then yelled. I wanted to rip him off of me. Then I needed to stifle the blood pouring out. I felt lightheaded. The post-ejaculatory glow of pleasure dissolved. I was slipping away, falling. Darkness was on the edge of my blurred vision. I recognized all of the signs from my numerous trips to the doctor's office.

Hunter rose off me; my dick, coated with fluids, fell by the wayside. His grip on my neck loosened; teeth no longer carved me up. Almost gentle, how he applied pressure. And then, a wash of cold air as he removed himself. Blood and spittle dripped down my arm and off his face. It splattered on his sweaty, bare chest. The last thing I remembered seeing were his golden eyes and a manic, carnal smile.

~~

“...And then what?" I asked Ian, glancing up from the screen of my computer.

The coffee cup had been bone-dry for what could have been hours. My fingers were mercilessly tired. I saw the top half of Ian's face over the rim of my screen and he seemed lost in thought. Distracted, maybe.

“Oh, uh, sorry," Ian said, shaking his head. “After that...it...gets a bit fuzzy, I guess. I only remember waking up in my bed, back in my room. My mom was cooking dinner. No blood, no pain...nothing."

“Huh," I appraised. I finished the current sentence, closed my laptop, and then stared at my interviewee with a firm expression. “Well, I think we've done a decent amount for now."

“Oh? Yeah, I uh, guess we have. Time flies."

“Three hours, give or take," I responded.

“No wonder I'm so hungry!" Ian said, stretching. The muscles in his arm flexed and relaxed. I caught a glimpse of his hairy stomach as his shirt buoyed about his midsection. “You wanna...?"

“I actually...have to make some calls," I admitted. “Finish a couple things out, y'know?"

“Ah. Gotcha."

I slid my laptop into its carrying bag and hefted it diagonally around my torso. I felt a little bad, sort of blowing him off like this. Despite spending last night and a good chunk of today with him, I reminded myself. Looking at those eyes, those deep pools of blue, I relented. Sort of.

“Where uh...where are you staying?" I asked tentatively.

“Hmm. Nowhere really," he admitted, standing up. “Like I said, I just sort of blow through cities. Was gonna see if there was a back road, somewhere outside of the city, just set up for a night. Take my bike."

“Right." I nodded.

“But first, I'm gonna grab some food. This place, it has hotdogs, right?"

“'This place?' Chicago? You're asking me if Chicago has hot dogs?" I chuckled.

He responded with a dumb, goofy shrug.

I smiled.

“Yeah, it's one of their things! Pickle and everything. Chicago-style!"

“Cool. Yeah, I'll get one of those, then," Ian said and then made a motion to leave.

“Look," I interrupted, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Meet me back at my room this evening. I've uh," I rummaged around in one of my surface pockets, and produced a card key.“Got two of these things. You might as well hold onto one."

“...Yeah?" A spark danced through his eye.

“Sure. Like I said, I'm here until tomorrow. We can...get dinner, or something. That sound good to you, Ian?"

“Alright! Thanks, Chuck." He took the card and stuffed it into his jeans pocket.

“Great. In the meantime, yeah. I've...gotta take a shower, first of all. Get some other stuff done." I nodded. “The book idea's gonna be great. First session went great. It's all..."

“Great?" Ian suggested.

“Yeah. What else can I say? It's going to be an interesting project. I'll see you tonight?" I asked, extending a hand to my new cohort.

“Sure will." His hand met mine and dwarfed it. We shook. I felt it. It jolted out of his eye and leaped to our hands.

A spark.