[SleepingPup567]

Alright, here's a furry slice-of-life I've been writing for a little while now. I've only got chapters 1 and 2. I've got chapter 3 well under way though.

WARNING: This story contains multitudes of male/male and male solo sexual content between anthropomorphic characters. If you don't like it, don't read it. If you do, don't be afraid to give me some contructive criticism to help me.

Hope you like it!


Prologue

The room was stilled, frozen in time. All eyes were locked on the gunman, whose eyes burned with irrational murderous intent. It seemed that even breathing had stopped just for that moment, as one could even hear the individual “Pitter-Patter” of each drop of rain outside as it hit the ground and buildings.

Filled with the sent of coffee and pastries, the store’s air was heavy with fear. The intentions of this man were clear to the two boys in the corner of the coffee shop, whose interlocked hands fell apart as they stood, their eyes now too fixed on the barrel pointing at them. The faint breaths they heaved were marred, labored, as they thought, quickly, debating what they should do. They couldn’t get away, backed up in that corner of their own pre-destined accord.
A noise seemed to shatter the stunted time like glass. It was a scream, the boys believed; their minds racing at an amazing speed, as a rushing sound filled their ears completely, deafening them. They wanted to scream too, to run from that place as everyone else was, but they had no way to get out… They were as good as dead.

Finally, one of the boys unclogged their throats, as, hoarsely, they spoke, “What… What are you doing?”

“What?” The murderer-to-be asked, as a bone-chilling cackle filled the air, over-flowing from his lungs. It was sickening to listen to, and both boys’ stomachs did somersaults. “You are such a naïve fool. I’m going to kill you of course.”

“Th-There’s no need for such a thing,” the second boy, for the first time, spoke, “What happened to you was your own mistake! Don’t drag us into it!”

That murderous gleam narrowed, becoming the eyes of nothing short of a monster. Being spoken to in such a manner was not the proper way to speak to the person who held your life in his hands, your current “god”. The madman saw himself in that visage, as the boys’ personal god. He could kill them both, leave one alive, while the other died, or maybe just scar them for life. He could adjust to that dominancy, to being peoples’ god.

He cleared his throat, smiling that arcane smile of his, as he spoke slowly, with a knife-like edge to his voice, “FUCK YOU.”

Time once again came to a halt, as the man pulled the trigger. The gunshot was ominous, forever-echoing in the small room. Neither boy could follow the bullet, as they braced each other with steel-like grips. Before they knew it, it was all over.

“AVERY!!!!”


Chapter 1: The Clock Starts Ticking
December 17, 2010

The night was gentle, as the moon loomed quietly in the sky. The stars danced happily over the suburban town as the smell of salt water filled two boys’ nostrils fully as they laughed. Theirs was one of few cars on the road at that time of night, they knew, as they saw the clock land on ten in the small crimson Hyundai.

One was a small, slightly feminine arctic wolf, his white fur softly flowing as the air from the open window slid through it. Sparkling, his light pink eyes were bright with embarrassment as his cheeks shone the same tone as his friend made a joke about him and a teammate on their team’s football team. “Shut up, Hunter! I wouldn’t do that! Have you looked at the guy?” Almost defensively, he readjusted his varsity football jacket, its purple and yellow material clashing with the rest of his outfit, a white button-down lacking a collar and fitted white jeans, accompanied by black dress-boots. “He looks like a damn potato!”

To his left, Hunter, a golden-furred lion chuckled heartily, his black mane bouncing with his body, overflowing to his front to half-hide his personal varsity jacket. His style was a lot more relaxed than his wolf friend, as he wore a basic white tank, with tattered, torn jeans, and gray running-shoes. He was also a bit heavier built than the wolf, his muscles rippling with each sputter of laughter. “You got that right! I swear the only reason he’s on the team is because momentum’s on his side!” With that, they both let out another giggling fit, both grateful Hunter was a talented driver and kept them straight regardless. “Oops!” He yelped as he roughly pulled to the side of the rode, by an act no short of a miracle missing a black Volkswagen. Happy they were safe, he yelled out the window, his brown eyes meeting midnight blue ones. “Nearly missed y’, Tyler. It’s all that damn black you’re wearing! C’mon Ave, let him in.”

“Right, right,” Avery said as he hopped out of the car to let Tyler slide into the back of the car, his light blue tail playfully slapping the wolf’s face. Before sliding back in, Avery took a look around, his nerves jutting uncomfortably as his eyes scanned the dark neighborhood. It was all too common to be jumped here. All the damn streetlights were broken for hell’s sake! Of course, it didn’t matter to Tyler’s father, he was probably hoping that his son would get a nice crack on the head and “come home”. However, as he turned to the bridge to the left of the house, he couldn’t help but be humbled by the distant lights of Sacramento in California’s inland. He wasn’t jealous though, he loved the small island he lived on. The three-mile bridge to the American homeland almost made it feel like a whole other country, giving it an adventurous air.

“Yo, Avery!” The young canine jumped around to the blue-furred otter, resisting the urge to laugh as he always did, knowing all too well that that fur-color was a mean prank on his and Hunter’s part from months past, but had eventually become the once brown otter’s signature color. “You gettin’ in or what?” Tyler asked, a smart ass’ed grin on his face. It was faces like that that made Avery happy Tyler was himself, and hadn’t “come home”.

“Yeah, yeah.” The wolf blushed as he resumed his seat, closing the door quickly as he noticed many of shadow-marked eyes upon him. “Drive, cat.”

“Shut the hell up, pup. I’ll go when I damn well want to,” Hunter faux-seriously snapped as he did an immediate U-turn. “Now, where’s this place you’re heading, Tyler?”

The otter, going through the large coffin-like carrier he had brought with him, his black beanie, thin black shirt with just slightly elongated sleeves, black jeans, and black sneakers nearly completely camouflaging him against the black interior of the car, replied without looking up, his eyes focused on his guitar’s tuners or whatever in the hell they’re called, “It’s that new music café, you know, the one on Median Street, The Blue Crag.”

Avery smiled, glancing over his shoulder, “Another band tryout?”

“I’ll keep trying until my fingers fall off or my vocal chords stop working.” Tyler said that with pride, happy to be involved in anything having to do with music. Music was pretty much his life whenever he wasn’t with his friends, most notably Avery and Hunter, who he viewed as brothers. Of course his confidence in this instance was mostly pointed toward the new song he had written exclusively for this audition. He was going for the gold.

Hunter just chuckled, knowing his friend was extremely talented at music. “I don’t think you’ll have to wait that long, Tyler. You’ve got an amazing voice, your luck just hasn’t been holding up very well lately.” Reaching back, he pet the otter’s knee reassuringly, his eyes never leaving the road.

Tyler just sat there, frozen, his icy eyes staring at that hand nervously, trying to muster up the strength to move it, but too afraid to touch it. So, he moved his leg in an attempt to drive the message home to Hunter, who, after realizing that what he was doing was off-putting for the otter, quickly retracted the hand to the steering wheel. “Eh, sorry.”

“Oh,” Tyler said, his cheeks now a bright violet, “It’s not a problem.” To prevent an oncoming silence, he decided to change the subject. “So… where are you two headed tonight?”

Avery smirked; it was all too good to have brothers who didn’t dwell on things. “We’re headed over to Chris Farlow’s place. His parents are off and he has permission to throw a party for Friday’s big game. Last game of the season, you know?”

The otter scoffed, “So, a bunch of dumb jocks, excluding you two, and ditzy preps. Sounds like REAL fun.” Finally, he closed the case in his lap just as the first lights of the city appeared, erasing their home of suburbia.

“Hey, hey now,” Hunter said as he eased around a car that was going far too slow, “True, the majority of the people on or football team… or really any of the sports teams, aren’t the brightest group of people, or the most morally correct.” Sighing, he slowed to a stop, motioning a young vixen and her kit to cross the street, waving at them as they did gratefully.

“But,” Avery continued for the lion, “Some of them are really good guys. Like, Chris and Cross for example.” The wolf smiled as a cute guy waved at him as they passed, recognizing him as a bar-friend that he met up with on rare occasions. “You’re right for the most part,” his smile turned to a fierce growl as a pair of gay and straight couples got into an argument on the opposite side of the street of where his friend had been moments before. He noticed that the straight guy was baring his canines fiercely, threatening the two gays, causing a small growl to emit from the lowest pit of his stomach, “Most of them are arrogant jerks. Did they really have to put this place here?”

Hunter had them parked in front of The Blue Crag, which they both quickly realized was sitting right on the border between the Western and Eastern districts of Alamston. Anyone with half a brain knew that the homo and heterosexual communities were scattered all about the city, but nevertheless, the fact remained that the majority of the gay population lived on its western side, causing the terms East-District and West-District to appear, darkly. Median Street just happened to be the unofficial division between the two, making it a place full of tension and frustration.

“I don’t know,” Tyler replied, as he took a short attempt to gather himself. “Supposedly, this place is supposed to open to everyone, gay, bi, straight, or otherwise. They probably thought that the location would be perfect for cementing that. They were ignorant it seems, of the fact that this will probably produce many arguments inside, some even turning physical.” He stared the building up and down, smiling. It was very interesting at least. The large blue neon sign of a mountain split down the middle by what seemed to be a bolt of lightning caught your eye against the building’s white bricks and black trim. “Nice place, though.”

Avery quickly jumped out of the car to pull his seat back, letting Tyler worm his way by. “Good luck,” he said quietly, giving the otter a half-hug.

“Thanks, Ave.” He turned back to the car,” And thanks for the ride, Hunter. I’ll see you two whenever you pick me up. Call first.”

“Yeah, alright! Good luck, bro!” The lion exclaimed before Avery crawled back in. Even with them both in, they had to wait and watch, to at least make sure Tyler made it to the door okay. It wasn’t a safe place at the get-go, after all.

However, as the blue tip of Tyler’s tail disappeared into darkness and cool-colored strobe lights, the two felt the need to let out a simultaneous sigh. “A party and a band audition,” Avery said tiredly, “on a Sunday. School tomorrow’s going to be a drag. What in the hell was Chris thinking?”
Hunter grunted as he reluctantly began the drive out of the parking lot, wishing he could stay and watch Tyler perform, rather than go party and resist the urge to drink himself to the point that vertical becomes every-which-way. “I heard the guys want to see who’s tough enough to last it out and come to school tomorrow.”

“Dumb-asses,” was the wolf’s only reply, excluding his guttural growl that arose when he saw a small street gang corner a gay couple out for the night-life.

The lion’s eyes narrowed as well, but he kept his composure straight as he saw a small police cruiser turn in on the scene. “Chill, pup. This world is full of shit-holes like that, but not everyone is like that. You have to admit, it’s gotten better over the years.”

Avery’s pink eyes trailed around to Hunter, showing a sort of lost confusion, “Yeah, everywhere but here.” He was, for the most part, right. The scars on his body were more than acceptable evidence for that.

The rest of the ride there was quiet, as Hunter hummed along with one of his favorite rock songs and Avery muffled giggles at how off-tune the lion was. Both raised there heads to look around as the city once again faded to suburbia. However, unlike the fringe they were used to, this one was lined with golden gates, large gardens with elaborate fountains, enormous mansions, and even bigger wallets on the area’s residents. Neither was entirely sure which house was Chris’s, as they had never been around him outside of school other than to meet with him and Cross for a movie every once-in-a-blue-moon.

Once they reached the end of the street, and a house with a large circular driveway surrounding an elegant fountain that seemed to be engulfed by roughly-parked cars and chatting teenagers, however, they were fairly certain they had found the place. So, finding the parking place that with prayer boasted the least chance of contact with a drunk driver, Hunter turned to his white wolf friend. “You know the deal,” his chocolaty eyes shone with genuine concern, “If anything starts up, you come find me.”

His eyes dim with innocent guilt, Avery nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

With that, Hunter’s serious stare turned to a wide, gleeful grin. “Alright then. Let’s party!”
They both unloaded from the car and took what would most likely be their last breath of the night not contaminated by the piss-mimicking smell of their teammate’s favorite beer. With that last breath, and a slightly forced spring in their step, the two moved forward toward the mansion, waving at some of their fellow football players, most of whom were busy with their own personal cheerleader helper, as they passed. It was like clockwork at these types of parties in their town, that the host would always be wary and waiting at the front door for two things: fellow sportsmen, and women with huge racks. Of course, both were aware that with Chris as host, both large breasted women and muscle-bound studs got a free ticket.

So, as they ascended up the stairs, the lynx seemed to appear from no more than vapor before them. “Hello, Hunt, Ave. How are my two friends this evening?”

Avery looked the cat up and down, admiring the how his flaming red T-shirt, black vest, and black slacks clashed with his orangey-yellow eyes. “My, my, someone looks festive, for someone too wimpy for football and fell for wrestling and power-lifting.” The muscled lynx had always caught the eyes of woman and man alike, especially seeing as he was built so that though he was a key player on his two teams, but didn’t look like a disfigured monster, so Avery wasn’t shy about laying down a little flirting.

Hunter just chuckled, patting the wolf’s shoulder, “Down, boy.” He turned to Chris, who was having his own laugh at Avery’s words, “We’re good. Hey, do you know if Cecile is here yet?”
The lynx’s ears perked up, “Who? That vixen on the cheer-squad with her red fur dyed brown?” Hunter nodded happily, nearly knocking the cat over as he rushed in the direction Chris pointed. “He’s still a damn fox-chaser, eh?”

Avery’s mood changed from upbeat and excited as the last bit of Hunter’s golden fur disappeared into the mass of dancing fur he could see huddled close in the spacious living room, to a dark, indifferent side. His eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms defensively, doing a very convincing, ‘I hate you all’ façade. “Always.”

Normally, any other person would have been off-put by Avery once he put on that face, but Chris merely smirked. “You’re not fooling me, pup.” He gave Avery a small pat on his head, causing him to hide a blush by finding a sudden fascination in his boot’s strap. “Enjoy the party,” the cat turned to rejoin the festivities, but cut himself short, “Oh, and Ryan Love was looking for you. You know, your raccoon, fellow pigskin fetcher.” He saw Avery’s ears droop slightly, before straightening up even more fiercely than before. “I see… he’s still on it.” With that, he turned back into the dancing, finding a cute girl to grind hips with almost immediately.

The wolf felt shaken as he looked into the crowd of roughly moving fur, doing his best not to look at any of his classmates in ways they might not appreciate. He was looking as hard as he could, trying to pick out the raccoon he hoped with all his heart he wouldn’t see before the night’s end. Carefully, he made a mental checklist: blond, messy head-fur: negative. Seemingly lifeless gray eyes: negative. Annoying but oh-so-hot use of teenaged angst: negative.

Feeling that he might be safe for now, he took his first brave step into the Farlows’ living room. Immediately, he regretted it, as he was blasted with a mixture of beer, sweat, and… sexual fluids. It nearly blew the poor kid off his feet, but he pressed on, keeping enough manners to close Chris’s comically large oak front door behind him. Eyes scanning the room, Avery quickly found himself a nice secluded corner not occupied by couples about halfway in coitus and built a small wall between himself and the people around him, only shattering that wall every once in awhile to take a grimace-inducing drink of beer. He hated alcohol though, so he took it nice and slow, making that beer take up at least an hour and a half.

Now, he sat, secluded, in a chair he stole from one of his less preferred teammates, Nate Crysatte, who was now too preoccupied with the fact that Emily Huss’s pigtails reminded him of handle bars. He as bored to death, only smiling every now and then as Hunter or Chris walked over to give him an update on how their relationship escapades were treating them. He had to admit, he was fairly happy and proud of Hunter who had with all due honesty not let a drop of beer touch his lips, and got Cecile to water down her advances to a point that a relationship two-weeks into should be, gentle making out during slow songs. Chris however… well, let’s just say he was getting just a little more “out-there” each time he walked over.

The rest of the time though, he was studying Chris’s home. It was nice, with a beautiful black-and-white abstract theme. Many paintings were posted on the wall and had, by some miracle of whatever screwed up “god” or “gods” were watching them, stayed in the positions they had been when they arrived. It was a nice place, with a touch of retro and modernization all in one gulp.

However, as he stood, his eyes were focused only on the stairs. He prayed that the bathroom was upstairs, as he felt the impact of any alcoholic beverage hit his bladder out of nowhere. As he crudely managed his way up the stairs, it clicked in his mind once again that these parties were exactly like clockwork. Upstairs in any rich-neighborhood house was always used for “one-on-one time for couples”. If he was unnerved by the half naked masses below, hell only knows what he would make of this leap of fate.

“Like clockwork,” he whispered as he entered the upstairs hallway, being graced by moaning and naked bodies of people too drunk to realize that their doors were only half closed. The first spare-bedroom: “Nope.” The second: “How in the fuck is she that flexible?” The third: “… I’m going to walk away, and pretend that I never saw this.”


All that was left, to his dismay, as he peered around at the gold and brown color-scheme, was the master bedroom. Reluctantly, he took a step inside, and cursed as he realized the door didn’t lock, so he just closed it and hoped that people would get the message “privacy”. He knew homes like this well, all of them had once bathroom per bedroom. So, sure enough, as he found the master bath, he was hit by beautiful tan tiling, golden walls, and chocolaty trim. A large hot-tube style bath, a stand-in shower plenty big for two, and, to his glee, a toilet, standard rich-family supplies.

So, he unwound by letting himself go and doing his business. He had to scrunch up his nose when the smell of his urine met his nose. Anyone with half a brain, or nose in this case, could smell the extra hormones in it. He was one horny little bitch after being there for so long. He just opened a window slightly to let the smell vent. He didn’t want Chris’s parents to think something explicit had unfolded in their bathroom of all places.

As he washed his hands, the fact that and hour and a half, or now three-fourths, clicked in his mind. Absently, he picked his sleek crimson phone out of his back pocket and settles it around his ears, flipping the mouthpiece out and he said calmly, “Call: Tyler Scott.”

Grinning, he listened to Tyler’s ring-back, a bit of an old song called Hate (I Really Don’t Like You) by the Plain White T’s, before hearing Tyler answer, a little chipper than usual, “Hey, Ave! What’s up?”

The wolf leaned his back against the linoleum counter-top, crossing his legs in front of him, “Not much, just bored, thought I’d check up.”

“Aw, aren’t we sweet?” came Tyler’s out of character answer, that pretty much assured the wolf that something had gone well. “Why’s it so quiet, man?”

“Oh,” Avery blushed when he realized where he was still, “I’m in the bathroom.” He chuckled, his short-minded actions were amusing no matter what side you looked from. “Anyways, how’d you do?”

The otter on the other end giggles about something with an unfamiliar voice. “You must be dam bored to call from there, eh, bro? I did well though; I’m going to be A Night in Paradise’s new vocalist!”

The wolf let out a happy yelp that made him sound like so much of a flamer that he couldn’t have been any happier to be alone. “Congratulations! No surprise though.”

Again he heard that unknown voice say something, probably in the ear not occupied by Tyler’s phone. “Thanks,” the otter finally responded, “I’m thrilled! Also, I ran into an OLD friend. We’re about to head over to the coffee shop next door to chat, so I’m going to have to cut this talk short, sorry. We can act stupid tomorrow, alright?”

Avery was torn between a smile and frown. That emphasis on the word “old” could only mean someone Tyler couldn’t remember. He was happy that he was acting positive toward the reunion, but was worried about what other thoughts and questions this might have brought to Tyler’s mind, knowing all-too-well that the chances stood that neither he nor Hunter would have correct responses for them. “Alright, see you then.” He clicked the phone off, pausing only to dwell on those feelings for a moment before straightening them out and putting them to the back of his mind for later.

Opening the door, he took a final look in the mirror to make sure that he at least looked presentable. Of course, he was very cute, but always doubted himself. He was disgruntled to find that as he attempted to walk out the very door that he was sure was vacant of obstacles when he opened it, his face was buried in the gray fur of a very memorable neck. “Hey, hey now. I didn’t say start, pup,” Ryan said, coolly, flicking his blond bangs out of his eyes with a simple jerk of his head.

Avery instantly backed up, looking the raccoon up and down. He was wearing a cute pink, light-blue, yellow, and white striped polo shirt, a pair of baggy blue jeans, and brown sandals. Needless to say, Avery was startled to have walked into him, and was blushing hotly as he momentarily ogled over the attractive male before him. Logic though, presented itself stronger than vision, as he stepped around his teammate, their matching varsity jackets rubbing against each other in a flurry, into Chris’s parents’ room. “Wh- What do you want Ryan?” It was a question, but there was a weak-spine of a blade beneath the words.

“Oooooo,” Ryan moved forward, and Avery backwards, until he accidentally tripped over Mr. and Mrs. Farlow’s bed, landing on the brown material with a yelp. The wolf tried to sit up, but almost instantly, he found the raccoon on top of him. It was annoying, Avery was the only out-of-the-closet gay in his entire school, and was hated for it, yet this closet-boy wasn’t shy at all at coming down onto him, even with nearly a third of the entire school downstairs. “Now, now, Ave. No need to be rough. If you’re gentle with me, I’ll return the favor.”

Avery stuttered as the raccoon moved in for a kiss, “N-no, Ryan, sto-” The lips clenched down coldly, without love, only lust. Same with the tongue as it snaked its way into the wolf’s mouth.
After a moment or two, the raccoon sat up, and undid both of their pants.

“Why say no,” he pulled both of their pants and underwear down, grinning at Avery’s flaming-red briefs, “When it feels so damn good?”

Noting the raccoon’s already completely unsheathed seven inch cock had its knot already swelled to half-finished size, Avery gasped. “No, no, Ryan, no!” He put little effort to fight behind his words, as he fought an internal battle, and, though his mind was winning, his body had already forfeited. It was normal that way, they both knew. So, Ryan gave it little mind while he slipped a rubber form his wallet over his engorged member, grinning as he saw Avery’s finally immerge from its white sheath.

Giving his penis a few firm strokes, Ryan smiled as he quickly, now by feel and instinct rather than sight, found Avery’s tight pucker and slipped the pink head in. The warmth was so common to him now, that as he heard Avery’s gentle moan, he got a gentle, subtle, “welcome home” vibe. So, he thrust the rest of the way in roughly, feeling all but unwelcome and ignored Avery’s final plea for him to stop, knowing that while he pistoned in and out, as he started without wait or care, knowing that though the wolf hated it, he loved it.

Sex was blurry for Ryan, always. He couldn’t hear Avery’s moaning, or his own panting. He felt no love, no connection, not even real satisfaction. It was just his only outlet, and the wolf was his only, though unwilling, subject. He just thrust in and out, heartlessly, trying to force bliss into it, to find some hidden sadistic replenishment in Avery’s tears. He couldn’t.

Just as he felt nothing when he finally came, letting his seed fill the condom warmly. So, as the empty afterglow disappeared, he just jumped up, stripped off the condom, and flushed it down the toilet s he ran to straighten himself up in the bathroom. He wasn’t a very good person, but had the manners to at least pull up the wolf’s pants and briefs, buttoning them up before walking out without a last word.

He wasn’t sure what was happening, Avery. He could see the white ceiling, the gold curtains, and matching room, but he had forgotten their meaning. So, as he sat up, the image refurbished his memory. The brown and gold bed, cornered by four oak posts and a dark brown headboard, the picture frames of two lynxes and their three children, and the lingering musk of both he and Ryan.

It took him a minute to gather himself, as he dizzily sat up, confused as to how his pants had come up, but very much aware of the throbbing beneath his tail. He hadn’t even noticed the tears as they slipped down his cheeks, leaving wet, ghostly streaks down his white fur. But, they were always there after Ryan showed up, after Ryan hurt him, so he knew to wipe them away thoroughly as he got up to walk to the bathroom.

He just needed to see if he looked okay. Ruining the party wasn’t part of his plan, so he would just walk down, and say nothing. Well, first, he had to smooth his head-fur down, he noticed, as it was going just about every direction possible. So, as he tried to gather his breath, and whiten his red eyes, he didn’t notice anything wrong. He just kept smoothing and leveling his breath. Everything was fine.

But his body went numb instantly, except for his chest, which he gripped onto deafly. The pain was searing and abrupt. It was brand new. It was never a surprise like that, it always started dull and smoothed up to this red-hot feel. He tried to scream Hunter’s name. He needed him. However, the words refused to come out. So, he could only hope that, after his knees had hit something hard, he assumed it was the floor, someone was near.

-----------------------------

“How can you even suggest that?” Hunter raged. Screaming at the pug whose face was far too close to his own. He wasn’t sure how it had happened. The football team was all huddled in an arguing mass in the center of the living room. The music was gone, and only tense tempers remained as the other jocks from other teams sat on the edges of the room, interested only half-heartedly in the argument. “Avery is one of our best players! You seem to forget that if he hadn’t covered your and Simmons’s lazy asses last game, you two wouldn’t have even come close to those field goals!”

The pug, Allen, the same potato-shaped dog the two had joked about earlier snapped back sharply, “How does it look on all of us to have a damn fag on the team! How is it? After we win, we beat the shit out of him to prove who the alphas are!” There was a disgusting roar of approval from pretty much half of the teams

Hunter felt so betrayed, as half of the team was completely in favor of ramming Avery, someone who was pretty much his brother, into the fucking ground, while most of the other half thought differently, and the rest, like that damn closet-prick Ryan Love didn’t even give a rat’s ass!
“Hey, wait,” Hunter felt a light pull on his arm, stopping his rebuttal dead. He turned to Cecile, her green eyes showing confusion, “Didn’t Avery come with you, Hunt?”

Looking around the room, the lion tried to find that lump of white fur with beautiful pink eyes, but failed. He had assumed that he was just sitting quietly, ignoring the argument, trying his best to disappear into the white wall. However, he was just gone. “Yeah,” he finally said, “yeah, he did. Could you go find him, hon, make sure he’s okay?”

The vixen nodded eagerly. She was a smart, open-minded girl, and loved Hunter to death. She would have done anything for him, so if Avery was important to the lion, that was all the incentive she needed.

As that brown, white-tipped tail disappeared up the stairs, he was disgusted to hear Allen continue. “That’s another thing! Why is it that a fag as sick as him is on the team anyways. I bet its AIDS or something like that!”

“Enough!” Once again, hunter’s reply was cut off, as every head in the room turned to the biggest guy on the team, a border collie, Cross Newman. He shared two very important things with the wolf everyone was taking shots in the back at: Like Avery, he was a running back for the team, and worked with the wolf a lot. Also, he was gay and in the closet. Not just for fear of rejection by the rest of the school though, like certain idiots. No, his reasons were far more painful. “Avery has proven his worth and loyalty as both a teammate and friend on multiple occasions! Or have you forgotten, Allen, that were it not for Avery, you would have failed your second damn time at Algebra Two, and you wouldn’t even be playing. He dislikes you, and he’s not the only one! However, he extends a kind hand to you, and anyone else who asks!” Everyone was quiet, struck by dead silence. No one was foolish enough to question Cross. He was normally peaceful, but if you got him pissed… well… no one knows what would happen. Except for Chris, who stood in the doorway between the living room and kitchen, now sobered by the argument, smiling at his friend. He was proud of him for speaking up for Avery, as it appeared no one else on the team was to be that kind. He himself would have said something, but not being on the football team, it was out of his jurisdiction. “Now,” the collie said, his black and white fur seeming to be tensed by the realization that he had just said something so out-of-the-blue, “let’s just dance, this is a party after a-”

A blood-chilling shriek erupted throughout the house, as Cecile came flying down the stairs, running up to Hunter, and in a flurry of almost unrecognizable words, “Hunter! It’s Avery! He’s passed out in the master bath! I think he had an attack!”

The lion’s blood turned to ice, and it took him a minute to register what he had heard. This wasn’t the first time, but each time felt like the first time. He would be frozen in fear for his friend, paralyzed. Then, adrenaline kicked in, as he, in an amazing rush of flash-like speed, sped up the stairs and down the hall. The room was gold, and everything seemed right, except for the white- tail poking out from the bathroom, limp, lifeless.

Instantly, he was there, finding his friend curled up, his right hand loosely clenching his chest; the other sprawled out on the floor. “Ave! Ave!” He lightly shook the wolf, trying to get a sign of life. He waited, he needed a sign. Finally, he heard only the faintest raspy breath from the canine. Quickly, he gathered the wolf in his arms and rushed out, down the hall, descended the stairs. Everyone was staring, some in fear, some pity, some indifference and disgust.

Hunter was on a mission though, and didn’t stop. Even in the car he was speeding through, somehow turning on the car with one hand and hooking his emerald phone around his ear. He had to get in touch with Tyler. He hoped the otter was done. Their night of partying and otherwise, was over.