[SleepingPup567]

Wow, very few views. -_-' Well, if anyone is reading, here's chapter 3. It's narrated by Cross the morning after the party.

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Chapter 3: Keep Moving
December 18, 2010

A tall, medium-build border collie ran across the yard, his arms raised. He was about sixteen or seventeen, and his black and white fur seemed to form crescent moons on the tops of his ears. Behind him, many people, from early teens to young adults chased. As he caught the football that soared over many of their heads, he reached a makeshift field goal, arousing playful jeers from the opposing team mixed with jubilant cheers from his own. The yard, long and wide, was surrounded by simple wooden fencing, accompanying a warm, light-green house with black trim and roof. Up on the wooden deck leading to the yard, were many parents of different species, watching the kids with interest, rooting on their own respective children when need be.

As the kids reformed to get ready for the final play, the young collie turned to an even younger one, about thirteen or fourteen, who was huddled with his knees against his chest against a large oak tree. The smaller dog, holding a sketch pad and pencil, looked up as he felt his older brother’s gaze turn to him. “Hey,” the older asked, smiling at the star-like patch of white around the younger one’s eye, “Cross, you sure you don’t want to join in for this last play?”

Cross ignored as his father stared at him disapprovingly. He knew his father hated his preference for art, but he really couldn’t care much less. So, he just smiled gently at his brother, only momentarily glancing at a cute lynx boy named Chris Farlow that was in his class. The boy was much younger than Moses, but Cross knew that his brother had sort of adopted the lynx as a kind of ‘second’ younger brother. “No thanks, Moses.”

Moses just smiled, rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand, the other on his hip. Grimacing, the younger collie realized that their parents would probably yell at the other having stood in such a feminine manner later. “Alright, suit yourself, but I want to see that drawing later, alright?” Turning away, the collie took his position, facing a cute, although tomboyish tigress.

He was unhappy with that turn of events. That girl, Julia, had been after him for hell only knew how long. It most certainly didn’t help him that she had a half-shirt on, trying to attract Moses’ attention. It didn’t matter though, he knew, as he looked the other guys, all of whom were shirtless just as he was.

“Hey, birthday boy.” Julia started with the nonchalant conversation, flirty and not caring to hide it. She was about to continue too, but was cut off as the collie bolted around her, tackling a smaller panther as gently as possible. Needless to say, as Cross watched, carefully, taking note of every detail of the final touchdown, his drawing came through flawlessly, engulfed in cheers that were not really for his work at all.

So, knowing what to do, the younger collie stood up, and, after patting some dirt off of his khaki cargo-pants, walked toward the patio. However, as he approached the field, he was met by his brother’s paw on his chest. So, looking up at the older collie, he smiled, ignoring the bulge in the gray, adorned with green stains, jeans that caught his wandering aqua eyes. “So, how’d that sketch come out?”

Cross held up the sketch pad, which his brother took carefully and looked over. Sure enough, his younger brother had done a near-perfect job. He had captured the final touchdown in such detail, shading and all. He could make out every individual person, including himself, his best friend, the panther named Leonhard, and his favorite little lynx Chris. “I’m not too sure about the shading,” Cross began, “but over all-”

Moses held up a paw to his brother’s mouth, “It’s amazing. I’m proud of you, Cross.” He smiled down at the dog, arousing a faint blush from the boy.
The younger dog nearly replied, but was cut off by a deep voice. “Come on you two. It’s time to blow out Moses’ candles!” Both turned to see their father, Noah, waving them toward a table on the deck. They were surrounded by all of the parents and the kids that were there, and on the table were Moses’ cake and numerous presents.

The older collie just sighed, “C’mon you two, aren’t I little old for the whole ‘blowing out the candles’ thing?” He was wearing a look of playful annoyance, though he was being partially serious.

“Oh come now, it’s a tradition,” their mother, Gracie, said. This disheveled both Cross’s and Moses’ nerves. Cross knew all too well that Moses and their parents had been fighting nightly after he had come out to family exclusively about being gay. It was always “sin” this, and “military school” that. Moses, turning seventeen on that day, had been prepared from the moment he admitted to himself that he was what he was, and was unafraid of hollow threats made by his parents.

Boldly, they both shed off that fear and walked onto the deck. Moses took the seat that was directly in front of his cake. Noah sat to his right, Gracie to his left, and Cross across from him. It made him smile to see his parents looking at him with loving eyes for once in far too long, rather than glares full of prejudice.

Cross, always happy for his brother, led the singing of “Happy Birthday” for him. And, as his brother moved in to blow out the candles, he blinked, smiling and cheering with the others. However, when he opened them again, he honestly wished he hadn’t.

First thing that he noticed was the heavy sweat that weighed down his fur, and how his body had become so much taller. Not only that, but his body was no longer that of a low-lying artist. Rather, he had developed muscles everywhere. He bore washboard abs and tight a tightened torso, with large biceps and triceps paired with muscled legs.

No one was there on the deck. Cross was all alone, and panting heavily. What’s more, as he looked around, he noted that the world no longer had color. It was black and white, and not your common, shaded black, white, and gray tones. Solid groups of the colors, in sort of a western comic style, with black, white, and nothing in between.

“Brother?” The collie asked, quietly, feeling his chest grow cold with fear.
No answer came though. He was still adrift in a black and white world. Empty and alone. He felt like everything around him was dead, too, as he heard nothing but his own beating heart. No cloud in the empty, sun-less sky above, no children laughing and playing in the yards beyond. However, as Cross’s eyes glanced around the soulless yard, he saw something. Color. Red. It was like a small stream of crimson drifting from the side of the house. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to see what he knew all too well was there. However, he had no control of his legs as he ran, in excruciatingly slow motion. No matter how many times he had seen it… no matter how detailed his memory was of that moment in the past, as he rounded the corner, his heart would always stop and throb with inhumane pain.
Moses was there, right in front of him. He was wearing a green collared shirt with khaki shorts. Of course, they were just white to him, then and there, but he could very well remember. In front of his brother was Chris, holding his hand and screaming something indefinitely. If memory served him, Cross believed it was, “No, no! Moses, don’t leave him! He’s your brother, don’t leave him! Don’t leave me!”

Cross then saw it, forced to face reality, as the large hunting knife in his brother’s heart pumped plenty of fresh red blood out into the open. The younger brother saw the older collie’s colorless eyes turn to him, and whisper something, once again inaudible, “Cross, trust Chris. Don’t follow my example.” The dog chuckled at that last part, a small stream of blood rolling off his lips.

Cross yelled out his brother’s name as he ran toward him, and reached out a hand. His fingers were so close to Moses’ cheeks, so close to that warmth that he craved, when he woke up.

Arms flailing outward he sat up, reaching for the brother that wasn’t there. Instead, his hand found cold, empty air, while his eyes found a hollow, empty, white room. He had to stare for a moment though, to realize that emptiness, as the damp warmth of the sweat engulfing him made him feel smothered beneath the thin white sheet, even though the room felt like it should have a layer of ice inside of it. It was so bare and unwelcoming, with a small white door that barely allowed the large collie in and out of it, a small bed with a ridiculously thin white sheet for such a cold house, and another, once again small closet. It barely held anything though, so it was no surprise that he had clothes strewn across the room, including his letterman jacket that then laid at the foot of his bed, flung there when he sprung awake. It had been what primarily kept him warm the night before.

However, he was in no way noting the cold as he turned off the side of his bed, completely nude, as he honestly hated the feeling of wearing clothes while he slept. Rather, his thoughts were on those memories. He remembered the day of his brother’s seventeenth birthday, March 16, 2005. Not long after that seemingly simple party, their parents began sending Moses to a psychiatrist. Soon… Moses lost himself. He gave up football, lost many of his friends, and rarely talked to the others. He began to leave for days at a time to hell-only-knows where. However, as he returned with the smell of marijuana drifting off of every pore of his body, it was obvious to them all that wherever he had been going, it was nowhere good. Cross somehow felt that he had the responsibility to make his brother happy, and reluctantly began working out ridiculously, and tried out for the football team in his freshman year of high-school. He made it too. So, when he found out, he went running home as fast as he could, leaping through yards and over fences. He had no idea that as he leapt over his fence, and ran toward the back door, that he would get his first breath of fresh, blood-marred air. He had no idea, as he rounded to the side of the house, the faint sound of an ambulance blaring in the distance, that he would find Chris holding his brother’s hand, as Moses faded into the void of death with his own knife crammed into his chest.

The canine gulped down the harsh urge to vomit, gripping his left leg with his matching hand hard, while his other hand fell over his mouth. Ever since that day he had feared blood more than anything. It sucked for him that he was on the football team, where people got hurt more than often.

Glaring at his alarm clock, he found that it was 6:13 AM. That annoyed Cross to no end. He had just lost seventeen could-have-been minutes of sleep. Nevertheless, after having that dream, sleep was a pipe dream. So, gripping his knees with unsteady hands, he pushed himself, blushing as he finally felt the cold air of his house brush against his white-furred sheath. “Why’s it a’ways so g’damn cold in h’r?” His speech was slurred horribly. That was normal for morning. However, the pounding thuds in his head suggested that all the beer last night had affected him far more thoroughly than insomnia. Just the thought of the guys choosing to have a party like that on a Sunday night made him feel like punching someone through a wall, though he would never do such a thing.

Reluctantly, grimacing with each stretch of his muscles, he walked over to his closet… well, the corner of his room, picking up a pair of white, sky, and navy blue plaid shorts, along with a matching short-sleeved polo, and a pair of sapphire boxers. Cross turned to stare at the door, giving it his best ‘I’ll send you to hell’ glare. As it decided not to widen as per the request of his threat, he walked through, turning sideways. He honestly didn’t get why all of the doors in his house were normal except for that one. Perhaps it was just that his parents had never predicted him growing that big. However, seeing as his brother’s old room was free, but untouched, he assumed his parents just didn’t care. After all, ‘fags don’t have rights until they cure themselves’, or so they had said. It was bullshit tough, so he just ignored it.

After the tight squeeze, he rounded the corner to travel through the white hall and into the bathroom. A shower sounded like heaven literally, the collie realized as he turned the knob for the hot water. He liked it steaming hot, for reasons unbeknownst to him. Moses had always said it was because Cross had a fiery spirit. Whatever that meant… He had no time to dwell though, as he pulled out a crimson towel, whose color made him gag momentarily, and walked into the shower after laying it on the counter.

The searing, fire-like water felt so good. He loved that shower in general really. It was one of those ones with the rectangular prism shape surrounded by translucent glass. It was just big enough for him to lean against the glass, and sit down, his legs arched in front of him as the hot stream ran through his head fur as his now clumped bangs fell in front of his face.

As he sat, basking in the heat thankfully, his mind rewound that dream time and time again. It was his worst nightmare, only because it was more than just a nightmare. It was a memory that seemed to follow him relentlessly. Every time he changed in the locker room, his eyes involuntarily wandering over the other guys’ bodies, it was there. Each time he met up with Chris, whether it is for an after-game party, or a simple trip to the mall for whatever reason, it was there. It’s not like Cross didn’t like those things, he loved going places with Chris, who over the years had become his best friend, and ex-boyfriend, which thankfully hadn’t changed their friendship any, and parties were his favorite pastime whenever he didn’t have a bunch of women trying to hang themselves all over him. He just simply couldn’t let go of the fact that his brother was dead. That fact only being true because their parents’ prejudice towards homosexuality drove Moses to end his life was his driving force. At the same time though, he kept himself hidden from the public.

What’s more, is that every blessed time he wrote his name, Cross Abraham Newman, that damn book came to mind. Once upon a time, after all, he had been such a devout Christian, and had damned homosexuality to hell, just as Leviticus demanded. However, after his brother had come out to them, he completely evaluated his shallow, fear-based beliefs. First off, he felt stupid for putting so much faith in the old testament of the Torah, rather than the new testament’s teaching of Jesus. That was just for a little bit though, as he eventually realized how childish the entire religion was. It was basically just a child’s game of ‘do what I say or you can’t play’, which drove him to develop a much broader belief. He had no religion after that. “Whatever happens, happens,” he told himself often, “And if the god or gods have a problem with it, they’re childish tyrants.”

It felt good to think like that, too. Seeing as he could finally open himself up to a world to which he had before been so reclusive, bound to live life to its fullest once he left his family’s claws. However, he saw how rough that reality would be every time he saw Avery. No matter how strong he was, as the wolf fought through hatred and illness, pain always seemed to catch up to the guy.

Cross’s mind flew back to the night before as lathered up his head-fur, letting foamy water stream down the rest of his body. It had pretty much started with Allen making a rather vulgar joke about Avery, which got Hunter all riled up. From there, things just escalated into a full-blown battle of yes and no. And, in the end, he was the trump card that put the whole thing to an end. Even so, as he thought back, he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Hunter defending Avery so selflessly. The second that Avery came out in school, Cross worried about him. “Such useless worry,” the collie mumbled to himself as he lathered up the rest of his fur, all the way down to his toes.

Quietly, he washed himself, his mind clear and happy. Just soaking in the water and the sounds of a small suburban neighborhood waking to a new day as children laughing and cars gently revving to life could just barely be heard over the rushing water.

However, as his hands began to wash his nether-regions, something else woke up. Cross didn’t really notice it at first. As time went slowly though, he eventually felt the pulse of his member, drawing him to look down, only to see his bright red, seven and three-fourths inch member out from its sheath and gathering an annoying pressure. It made the collie sigh. He really hated when that happened. After all, sex wasn’t his thing. He was more of a snuggle-and-light-kisses type.

Raging hormones, however, don’t simply bend to one’s will. He knew that all too well, and reluctantly wrapped a white-furred paw around his rock hard cock. Cross tried to think of something that would bring to a quick climax, but failed ultimately. Having zero experience at sex, and not being the type of person to look at porn, he had very little than what sex between to men was to work with. Also, true an artist he was, but made up people, no matter how detailed he chiseled out their bodies, were just not very enticing. So, he instantly envisioned Avery. Avery wasn’t exactly his type in personality, as he was too shy for Cross’s tastes, but he did have a very attractive body.

Slowly, the collie’s hand began to pump up and down as he saw the wolf on his back on a bench in the locker room, looking up innocently. Cross loomed over him, fondling the smaller male’s balls gently, causing a gentle moan to overflow from Avery’s maw. The larger dog just smiled down, continuing as he watched the wolf’s own red penis emerge carefully, up to an imagined six and a half inch length. Just the thought of Avery’s cock, slowly engorging with a sumptuous knot, made Cross moan as his hand began to pick up pace.

“C- Cross, please,” the wolf moaned again, this time with such sweet, hone-dipped intent, “take me.” It was a declaration, not a request.

Cross lifted up the wolf’s legs onto his shoulders and placed his tip at Avery’s pucker, giving the smaller canine’s sensitive member a gentle stroke, arousing a small bead of precum to rise out. He smiled as he wiped the bead off of the cock, right off the top, causing Avery to moan as he brought the secretion to his tongue. He had tasted his own cum before, and had a general idea about how it would taste, though Chris had often told him that the taste of one’s own, and someone else’s, is far different. “If that’s what you want.” He growled, both in his imagination, and in actuality. At that point, after all, he didn’t really care what anyone out in the hall heard.

He had had a talk with Avery once before, a talk that got a little personal after the collie had asked the younger canine about his past experiences. It had ended awkwardly after the wolf, in a nostalgic haze, explained how his first love had taken him roughly, and he masochistically loved every second.

In response, the collie thrust into the wolf hard, all the way up until his now completely formed knot, causing a small but blissful yelp to bellow from Avery. Giving the smaller canine no time to recoup, Cross began to piston in and out of Avery’s tail-hole roughly, relishing every second. He just kept going and going, delighted with every moan and groan that came out of the smaller canine, before finally biting down gently on his neck. That seemed to do the trick, too, as he felt the wolf’s seed shoot his upper chest and chin. Just that feel made the collie blow hit top, as he lodged his knot inside Avery, letting his seed fill him up.

Or, as reality stated, it flew out of his cock as his hand continued to pump, causing the white, slick cum to flow onto his hand and onto the shower floor.

He took a minute after that, staring at his own cum as it faded from between his feet, down the drain with the same cum that washed off of his hands. Even after, as it was all cleaned away, he couldn’t smile, he just stood and turned off the shower, as the water had long since become lukewarm. Pretty much disgusted with himself, he walked out and dried off with his crimson towel. He couldn’t believe that he had allowed himself to fantasize about Avery…

Eventually, he just sort of froze as he stared at himself in the mirror, fur going everywhere. He looked really sad, depressed even. Finally, he let go, and laughed out loud. He knew that he took things far too seriously, and, at the end of the day, looking back; things were a lot better than they seemed. As he gazed into the glass, he saw that smile on his face, and couldn’t have felt better. “Today,” he said quietly, “is going to be a good day.”

Cross ran a comb through his hair, smoothing it down so that a lone tip, going from right to left, against his natural part, touched his eye, before messing it up in the back. He had long since liked that look. Then, while brushing his teeth with his right hand, he put on his clothes with his left, smiling at how thee colors went with his fur and eyes. He didn’t flaunt it like a lot of guys, but in the end, he knew he was attractive.

After doing a final inspection, making sure that his teeth were nice and bright, clothes were straightened up, and his hair was in place, he walked out of the bathroom. Same routine as always, he knew, as he grabbed his wallet, backpack, and his capsule of breath mints off of the table in the light green hallway, and headed down the stairs, loudly at first, and then quieting his steps when he heard light talk in the kitchen. It was always a morning mission of his to evade his parents in the morning, knowing their only goal was to drag him into a frustrating conversation.

However, as he approached the door, hand touching the copper handle, he was reminded that he never just got away. “Off to school, Abraham?” His father’s voice was cold as always, as the smaller, more slender collie leaned against the entrance to the kitchen, his face showing irritation.

Cross took a deep breath, before turning with a slight smirk to his father, “Why, yes I am.” Placing his back against the door, his legs crossed, right hand on his backpack’s strap, and left in his pocket.

“Checking out any girls in school?” the older collie was always quick to the shot, and deadly at that.

It was an unnerving ability, but one he had passed on to both of his children. “No, not really,” Cross responded, still smiling brightly, “I don’t need any distractions, after all.”

Noah had an acid tongue as the next words slithered out like living darkness, “Your brother always said the same thing.” His eyes narrowed to a glare as his son’s eyes widened momentarily in shock, ignoring the gasp that came from his wife in the kitchen behind him.

Straightening himself back up, Cross replied simply, “He and I are alike in many ways. Many.”

Turning away from his son, the older collie just sighed, “So, you’re going to take the cowards’ way out?” Not faltering, Noah just walked into the kitchen, taking a seat facing away from Cross.

The younger dog just turned to the small table next to the door, looking at a picture of him and his brother. He was hanging around Moses’ neck, laughing with him in the backyard. “Well, Moses,” he kissed the glass gently, smiling, “Off to school, brother.” Finally, he opened the door to the outside, feeling a cool winter breeze hit him, as he walked out, closing the white door behind him carefully.

What his father had said was cold and rigid, like the bleakest blizzard. But they were not words Cross hadn’t heard before, so he just sucked it up, along with his first unrestricted breath of the day. Dawn and its rosy fingertips streaked the still night-tinted sky, as the young collie took a long stretch, relishing the feeling it brought. His blue eyes traced the neighborhood. It was your normal “everyone’s fantasy” suburb. Every other house was relatively identical, excluding the different personal color choices of the residents. Mostly, it held families, as Cross often played around with some neighborhood kids who loved getting piggy-back rides from the tall dog, as well as your occasional old couple, who Cross, being a quiet soul, often had brief no-meaning conversations with. He loved it. It was a nice place, even if his particular home wasn’t.

His revelry, which was rare to find to begin with, was shortly interrupted as a familiar car horn caught his attention, as a dark-gold 1966 Ford Mustang Coupe pulled to a rough stop outside of his house. He knew the car well, far too well, as he bounded for it.

Coming to the end of the small stone path to his porch, he opened the door and hopped in, slinging his backpack at the lynx at the wheel, with a resounding, “Good morning, kitten!”

“The hell?” Chris exclaimed, catching the backpack off of what was now instinct. Had it been a few years prior, he would have had his head slammed against the window. Thankfully for his health, he had long since learned how to play Cross’s rather rough games. “Someone’s awfully cheery today.”

That was when Cross noticed that the lynx’s hair was rather strewn and uncombed, his lettermen’s jacket wrinkly with the rest of his clothes, being just denim shorts, a red, blank t-shirt, and his favorite pair of sandals. “Had a rough night’s sleep? You and I finished cleaning at five! Two hours should’ve been enough!” The dog gave Chris a rather skeptical look. After all, he had walked home, so Chris should have gotten some sleep. But, from the looks of him- Cross had to guess he had one final ‘guest’ over. “Alright, who?”

“Dan Marksyr,” the lynx replied. He was bi, proud, and unafraid of sharing his love life with his friend. “I hadn’t noticed him asleep in one of the private rooms, but he woke up when you left.”

The collie looked the cat up and down before asking, “So, who in the hell is Dan Marksyr? No one I’ve ever heard of!”

The cat, as he reluctantly turned back into the road, lazily drifting around slow-morning drivers, shrugged. “Some guy that got in last night. He had a huge dick- nice bulge –so I’m sure I let him in at some point. He’s probably just some horny mutt from another school.” He thought back, relishing the images still fresh in his mind of pounding the bear’s ass. “He’s quite a little cum-slut. I enjoyed it. Sucks for him I wouldn’t let him have any without a condom.” Chris swerved into another lane, ignoring the cursing from other drivers as he did so.

“You haven’t had your morning coffee, have you?” the collie asked bluntly, but giggling.

The cat, pulling out some sunglasses he had hidden somewhere, as the sun finally perked it’s head over the horizon, asked, “So, you had the dream last night, right?” He had long since realized that, against common logic, and only in an attempt to not bring down those around him, it was on days that Cross was his happiest, that he had had the dream.

Cross’s expression going from amused to petrified in moments was an understatement. His lips were absolutely fixed in a reverse Cheshire-cat manner. He knew though, that Chris was not trying to hurt him. “Y- yeah,” he stammered his response, turning his gaze to his fumbling hands he now held in his lap. Instantly though, he returned his gaze upwards, looking optimistic, “But, Moses wouldn’t want me moping all day!”

Chris, as he drive over a bridge that reached across the river that separated Cross’ section of suburbia from all the others, smiled brightly as he turned his gaze to the dog momentarily. After Moses’ suicide, Chris had taken it hard, and drove himself to complete isolation for days. Eventually though, the promise that he made to Moses forced him to go look up on Cross, who was in far worse shape than he was. The lynx had received quite the shock to go to the Newman household to find out that Cross was missing. Following his intuition, though, he found the big collie at his older brother’s old favorite stomping ground, a small clearing next to the woods at the outskirts of the river. Cross had looked poorly groomed, even a little rabid, with obvious signs of insomnia, dehydration, and short-term anorexia. That was a long day, as the lynx sat, holding the poor dog’s head in his lap, and just telling nostalgic stories of Moses. Chris wasn’t sure how, but that day had stuck them together like glue.

Now though, Cross was strong, and so was he. So, with that behind them, they talked about random details any two high school boys would, sex, gossip, because anyone who says women are the only ones who do it are liars, and other such worriless things. The two just kept going, fitting together like matching puzzle pieces, though they most certainly only matched on the friend level. Both of them hated it too, because they admittedly thought the other was attractive. Cross was too innocent for Chris however, just as he was too big of a man-slut for Cross’s tastes.

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“So, want to go out for that new movie this Friday? My parents will be leaving for the weekend, so maybe we can… enjoy some private time.” The girl, a young, bodacious cheetah named heather asked. Everyone at the lunch table, the majority of who were wearing sports jackets and other such things, their arms around their respective girlfriend, watched with smirks on their face.

Cross grimaced as all eyes turned so simultaneously. “Whatever happened to the good ol’ days, when they pulled you off to the side before being blunt?” he wondered. He hated having girl clamoring after him, especially the repeat offenders like her, who would always just run to some other available guy. “No thanks, I’m not interested.” His face was straight and uncaring. Used to, he would have been gentler and done his best to give her some kind of consolation. Now, though, he really couldn’t care less, as the game had grown ancient and boring.

Heather pouted, and ran off with her best fake sobs as a few cheerleaders rose up to follow her, throwing the collie curses and obscene gestures as they did. Merely chucking, the dog scooted back against the wall, his head looking upward.

The room was huge, but so was his school. All of the lunches were divided up by grade levels. So, as there were about four hundred students per grade, it had to be big. In fact, there was even a second one on the other side of the school. Around the walls were gold and purple designs, with a golden circle around a purple crescent moon cut in two by an elongated triangle. It was the school’s symbol. Once, in the past, schools had their founder’s species as a symbol, but that became a racial issue for far too many reasons. Students sat with their own cliques, niches, etcetera, as in any school.

“What the fuck?” asked the annoying pug from the night before, Allen. “Why’d you say no, bitch? I would fuck her until she passed out!”

Cross felt everyone’s eyes on him again. Allen had always been the first to assume that saying no to a girl made you gay, because he was to annoying and horny to take any chances of turning a girl down. The dog had multiple options: Say that he was gay, which was out of the question. Leave, which would just look bad. Make up some random excuse that would be lame and unbelievable. Start a rumor. Or, insult the pug, get a laugh out of everyone, and walk away free.

“Just ‘cause your stubby penis makes it hard to get any, doesn’t mean I have to settle,” Cross chose the high road. Allen’s jaw dropped as everyone roared with laughter that the collie found obnoxious and annoying. All except Ryan Love, who sat at the end of the table, staring off into the distance. The raccoon had always been an off one.

He saw a large group of girls gathered around a table. Finding the gasps of impressions a little odd from such a various group, he stood, grabbing his trash, and used throwing it away as an excuse to get closer. He saw it then, a familiar blue-furred otter sat with an acoustic guitar, playing a quick tune with a matching tune. Tyler had long since been recognized as one of the school’s star musicians, though his voice captivated more than his instruments. Knowing all too well that women were suckers for a guitar player and singer, Cross felt a little sorry for the otter. Ever since Tyler’s incident four years back, the poor guy had been obviously confused about his sexuality. However, anyone you asked would’ve automatically said he was gay or bi. Cross would even say that too, as he had long since compared the way his classmate behaved around women, and then with men.

The collie grimaced as the song ended, and a familiar white wolf popped up, hugging Tyler around the neck. Instantly, Cross felt guilty as he remembered that morning. Seeing Avery okay though, was good.

So, he approached, giving his own applause with everyone else. “Well done, Tyler! That sounded good!” He must’ve been an eye-magnet, as they all once again turned to him. Just sighing it away as the girls erupted into a fit of giggles, he moved on. “I heard you tried out for a band last night, how’d that turn out?”

Grinning, Tyler responded, “Well, I didn’t get anywhere on guitar, but I will be the vocalist.”

“Congrats!” The collie turned to Hunter, who sat across from Tyler, Cecile in his lap, drawing him in with a finger. “I need to talk to you”

The lion turned slumped his head and arched a brow in confusion as the vixen stood up, letting him follow suit. Satisfied, Cross drew him over to the wall nearest them, around the corner so that wandering eyes couldn’t catch their words.

“So,” Hunter grunted, straightening his varsity jacket as was his habit. He looked comfortable, wearing baggy blue-jeans, a brown leather belt, a plain green polo, and new black shoes bearing street designs. Just another hot straight guy to Cross. “What’s up, man?”

Cross looked back to make sure no one was eavesdropping around the corner. It was a good move, too, as he was soon facing a relatively large group of girls, whose faces grew hot red as they rushed away. “Vultures,” he mumbled. Turning back to the lion, his face was gentle, “How’s Avery?”

“Oh,” Hunter said, smiling as he relaxed, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, “He’s good. The doctor said that if he has another attack this week, though, he can’t play in the big game.” The feline laughed, “Am I despicable for thinking about that so quickly over his health?”

Cross just chuckled, “Nah. After all, Avery wants to play. He loves the game. You’re not thinking about the game, you’re thinking about his happiness. Good trait for a big brother, eh?”

“Yeah,” Hunter smiled. He knew all about Moses. After all, there was pretty much not a single person in the entire city that didn’t know about Moses Newman.

His face hardening as he became serious, Cross bluntly commanded the lion. “Hunter, don’t ever stop protecting him.” Turning to see the white wolf, who was dressed in skin-tight white skinny jeans, a sleeveless white t-shirt with rather meaningless colorful designs in the front, and a black turtle-neck underneath, beating Tyler so easily in an arm-wrestling competition, he laughed again. “He may be tougher than he looks, but he’s still fragile.”

The feline stared at him, not sure what to say to something so out-of-the-blue. So, he made a resolve to rest a hand on Cross’s shoulder. “You know, his parents kicked him out for being gay. He’s living with me now.” The collie turned back to him, his blue eyes meeting the lion’s chocolaty ones. “So, he’s officially family. We’ll all protect him. Me. My parents. Tyler too…” Hunter saw another round of Tyler and Avery going at it, resisting the urge to laugh as Tyler’s hopes were crushed. “Okay, Tyler will be more of an emotional outlet.” With that, they let out a round of laughs that overwhelmed them. “All right,” Hunter wheezed out as the laughs faded away, “Anything else wearing you out, big dog?”

“Yeah,” Cross replied as the bell for the next classes rang out, “Thanks, Hunter.”

Seemingly instantly, Avery was there to pull Hunter away. “C’mon, we’re gonna be late! Hey Cross!” The wolf smiled and waved as they walked away.

After they were gone, the big collie just stood there, staring into the void. He had attended some summer classes, and didn’t have a sixth period class, so it bothered him not when the tardy bell rang and the halls were empty and bleak. However, the incessant ringing did force him to move as he turned down the white, empty halls, saying hello to some teachers he passed on the way as they walked about doing miscellaneous errands. Finally, after going up two stories, he arrived at the third art room. He loved that particular room because of the teacher mostly.

Instantly when he entered, the class went silent, and the class, made of mostly freshmen and sophomores, with some scattered juniors but no seniors. The teacher, who sat behind a large table in the back of the room, appeared to have been explaining the proper but all too simple method of blending water colors. He was an older badger, with slicked back white head-fur, while his once darker patterns of black had since faded to salt-and-pepper. His stunning aquamarine eyes turned to the young adult as he smiled. “Ah! Mr. Newman! Here to finally finish that painting? Maybe you can teach these kids about technique!”

“Oh,” the collie beamed as he moved, closing the door behind him, “I don’t really think I’m much of a teacher Mr. Volestrude, but. I will be done with that painting very soon!” As he moved down through the aisle of work-tables, he heard the girls each shriek quietly in captivation, while the smaller freshmen and sophomores meekly yelped.

Finally, as he took his seat behind his personal single-person workspace behind the badger’s desk, he picked up his brush and unwound.

_____________________________

Grunting uncomfortably, Cross released the tabs on his guards, letting the pads fall into his duffel bag with a plop. Around him, the smell of musk and sweat was overwhelming. It was the single thing he hated about the locker rooms: No matter how much they’re cleaned, they still smelled like shit.

Relatively, the room was quiet, as everyone was exhausted. That week was after all, going to be the last game of the year. So, the coach’s drilled them hard. Cross wasn’t even entirely sure whether or not coming to school the rest of the week sounded appealing. However, staying home with his parents was far more annoying an option.

Wearing only his tight white pants, he sat down, taking in deep breaths, letting out a hollow laugh as he saw Ryan nearly passed out on the floor. “Weakling,” he mumbled beneath his broken breath. Of course, others were like that. Others though, were actually very frightening. Avery was bouncing on the balls of his feet! Cross envied that. No matter how hard you pushed that tough little fucker, he’d always push back harder.

So, Avery was the first one in the shower, walking wit his hips swishing into the stalls before steam began to seep out like an eerie fog. Cross did so hard to make sure no one noticed him watching, but nevertheless watched the wolf’s cute little behind. Next in, as Cross finally stood to take the rest of his clothes off, was Ryan. He walked quickly. He quite obviously wanted to be alone to say something to Avery. That made the collie tense up. After how the raccoon had stayed neutral in the “beat the fag” game the night prior, he didn’t like the idea of the two alone.

So, he instantly crossed the room, stepping over some of his less fortunate teammates as they lay sprawled on the floor. Walking into the steam, as he rounded the corner, he was surprised at what he saw, and instantly retreated back into the hall separating the lockers and the showers. Ryan had Avery’s hand in his, his other planted against the wall behind the wolf’s head. He wasn’t sure, because of the showers, if the moisture on his face was from them, or if he had seriously seen the enigmatic raccoon crying.

“I- I’m so… so sorry Avery.” Yeah, the raccoon was definitely crying, as there were only the lightest sobs between his words. “Please forgive me. I p- promise. I will never touch you again.”

It got quiet for a moment, and the dog considered walking back in. “Ryan,” the wolf finally spoke, “It’s okay. I forgive you.”

Once again, things got quiet, so he peeked an eye around the corner. The sight was so cute, as Ryan had his head buried in Avery’s shoulder, crying. For a moment, he found the sight enamoring, before he heard the sounds of movement finally coming from the locker rooms. Fearing for the safety of the two in the showers, and began to whistle as he walked toward the doorway, pretending to just be heading there. Once there, he was happy to see Ryan in the corner away from Avery, washing away, as was the wolf.

Slowly, as he washed the work and grime away, the rest of the team, still tired and weak-kneed, joined them. There was little talk, as no one really felt comfortable conversing in the nude after Avery had come out. It was ridiculous, be every definition of the word. Once Avery strutted his way out of there, no one was shy about using slander against him. Needless to say, as Cross’s patience wore quite thin, he walked out.

Avery was feeding his black belt through his white jeans as Cross walked in. Smiling up as he feed the belt through and fastened it, he spoke, “Hey, Cross. What’s up?”

“Not much”, the collie replied, as he picked up his own clothes on the bench behind the wolf and fed his legs through his boxers. “How’re you holding up? You gave us quite a scare last night.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I’m fine now though. Tough as nails, you know?”

This made the collie laugh. Yeah, the wolf was one hell of a soldier. Which reminded him of something. “Hey, what’re you doing when you get out of school? You’re class valedictorian, after all.”

The wolf laughed, “I’m heading right back to school! I’m going for a major in cardiology. All of these years dealing with my heart problems have definitely given me a heads up on the subject, eh? Guess I’m lucky?” When the sound of changing stopped, Avery turned to see Cross giving him a skeptical and slightly hurt look. He understood the look well; it was of confusion and fear. “Sorry,” he continued, as he turned back to slipping on his turtle-neck. “It’s just that, after all of these years, I can’t help but be positive I’m going to live. If I was going to die from this, then I would have when I gave up. But, I’m here, which means I’m supposed to be.”

The collie, adorning his striped shirt once more, commented quietly. “Hm. Never thought about it like that. You’re pretty damn tough, Lyst.”

That was the end of that, as the rest of the team filed into the room, getting dressed. Avery had to wait on Hunter, as Cross had to on Chris, who was still in swim practice, so the two just spent time catching up on things as they waited. Cross enjoyed it. There was nothing like a nice day, especially when they were so rare.