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Seven Years Ago

The soft knocking at Gabriel's door surprised him. The Clydesdale glanced at the clock to register that it was indeed near 8:15 in the evening, although a quick look out his window would have let him guess about the same from the slowly setting sun. He'd had his tucker with the rest of the hired paws (at least those who hadn't gone off to familial homes during the hols), and he didn't think he'd be much bothered with company on a warm Christmas Eve. Even the crew staying to work the mucking out and such (bodily functions don't take holidays, after all) were mostly down at what amounted to the local, to hoist some pints and sing carols off-key.

"Cooee," he called softly.

The door opened just enough for a white-furred muzzle to poke in a few centimeters. "Gabe?"

"One and only," he smiled. "C'mon in, Cully."

The young white-furred dingo padded into the small room and shut the door quietly behind him. The stallion rose, ready to accept the pup's usual hug with all the warmth of the season. Away from prying eyes, they had maintained their closeness. There'd been a good number of nighttime cuddles out among the acers over the past year, and it would have been easy to have taken advantage of the pup's loneliness, but that just wasn't something the Clyde would do. Gabriel was still able to say truthfully that he had not molested the pup in any way (happily, none had asked); however, on a few of these occasional cuddles, not all had been totally innocent. Cullen was growing up, taller than his sire, more solid; both his body and his mind was becoming more appealing (as males go), and he was slowly growing more sure of himself... until now.

The dingo clung tightly to the older male, shaking slightly, his breath irregular. Gabriel wrapped his arms around the pup and held him firmly. "Cully, holy gods, what's wrong?"

No answer came for many long seconds, and the stallion guided his young visitor to sit on the edge of the bed, then sat next to him, arm around his shoulder, letting the pup squeeze out a few tears as he tried to calm himself. When the words finally made their appearance, they did so without preamble or flourish from a voice as dead as a Dickensian doornail.

"They're sending me away."

The words made no sense at first. "Who is? Where?"

"My parents," the pup managed, still not quite able to put any inflection to his speech. "They're sending me away."

"To school?"

"To the U.S."

Gabriel's brain skipped a few tracks as he tried to absorb this information. He knew the Riddell family had holdings -- working ranches -- in the central part of the United States, but that was about all he knew about the matter. The horses there and here had no direct connection, save for some straws of semen collected and shipped carefully to the States for breeding some of the mares there with the pride of the Australian ranch, a sixteen-paw Waler that Riddell seemed to think would cross well with some of his racers over there. The Waler was bred as a bushrangers' horse, as well as a good military remount, able to carry a lot of weight over a long distance. Apparently, the boss of the ranch thought that a cross might yield a horse used to weight who, when carrying only a jockey, might turn out to be a powerful racer. Gabe had his severe doubts, but he wasn't being paid enough to be allowed an opinion.

"Why in hell do they want to send you to the States?"

"To straighten me out." The young dingo barked out something that would be considered a laugh only in the most generous possible terms. "They found out about Sandy."

The stallion felt his blood freeze for a moment. Sanderson O'Toole, the otter in Cully's class at school in the city, had also been the pup's lover for the past eighteen months or so. Gabe had been the dingo's confidant since last year, and on those occasions since when they'd been able to find some private time together, Cully had not been stingy in his details about his and his lover's experiences. Little of the conversations had concerned sex, actually; most of it was about emotions, about activities done together, about how frightened they were that someone might found out, and about how deeply they felt for each other. When the topic did turn to sex, the questions were mostly what any adolescent would ask, and mostly about whether or not it was "all right" to do or try things. Generally, Gabe's answer was pretty much the same: Does it feel right for you, and for Sandy? The pup was surprised, at times, of the older male's understanding and acceptance. For that reason, among a great many others, the stallion was not parsimonious with his information and affection.

On an occasion during the last year, one of those questions -- loaded, in nearly every sense of the word -- concerned kissing. The yowen had found himself wondering if his kisses were "okay," as he put it. There was no doubt in Gabriel's mind that it was a ruse, and he avoided taking the bait on the first several occasions. Last June, perhaps because of the coolness in the air and a touch of loneliness in his own heart, the stallion agreed to "sample" Cullen's abilities, tentatively. There was no question about the pup's prowess, and he had to wonder briefly if young Sandy had been teaching based upon mutual exploration or outside experience. Either way, Gabe had been impressed with the tenderness and gentle curiosity that Cullen provided. Far from being an act of mere desire, that first kiss had been particularly affectionate on both sides. As the stallion had expected, it was far from the last kiss that they would share, but further explorations were carefully curtailed. Not entirely, as the equine remembered well (and, as he admitted to himself, sweetly), but still enough to tell the old figjam up at the big house that he had not "done anything" to the pup.

"Tell me what happened."

Cullen steeled himself visibly, struggling to keep his voice steady and his emotions in check. "We got careless, I guess. We were so careful at school, making sure we never did anything that would make anyone suspect us. We spent time with friends, as always, and we stole time where we could, to be together. When we were out in the city, we still weren't 'out loud,' like the posters say. We thought no one would notice a couple of yowens sneaking a kiss and cuddle in a dark shop doorway. Most people wouldn't. The world doesn't take much notice, really."

The voice trailed off, and the pup looked at his hindpaws. The stallion waited before saying, "Someone saw you. Someone from school."

The dingo shivered once through, and Gabriel squeezed him tightly. "Bloody gooseberry." He sniffed back more tears, started to find his voice again. "We didn't twig at first. It started getting more difficult to find time together. Actually risked having maybe twenty seconds in the library loo, just to kiss and hold each other."

"Must've been hell, pup."

Cullen looked the stallion in the eyes, maybe to see if he were being made fun of. It took a very few moments for him to realize that he wasn't. He cast his gaze downward again. "It was."

"Was there anywhere you two could be together?"

"Occasionally, yes. We weren't completely without mates down there. But it got crazy, and finally... You've probably never been called to the Headmaster's office."

Gabriel couldn't stop the laughter that came from deep in his belly. "Oh, Cully, how wrong you are about that one!" He gathered himself quickly because, despite the slight smile on the pup's muzzle, he knew that it wasn't actually going to be funny. "Tell me what happened."

For a long moment, Cullen could say nothing as his face screwed up in an expression of pain terrible to behold. "Lectured us for half an hour or more. Hellfire, damnation, and all. In this day and age. Lectured us on school rules, on what our parents expected of us. Threatened us with being thrown out, telling our parents why. Assigned us two chaperones each, and we weren't ever to be left alone together for any reason."

A flash of rage shot through Gabriel, lightning that made him physically jump. It was only Cullen's whimper that brought him back to himself, and he put his arms around the pup and hugged him close. "I'm sorry, Cullen. I didn't mean to scare you. It just..." He sighed, squeezed the pale-furred dingo again. "Bastard should be... I'm sorry. I'm not a violent hoss, as a rule. Was, long time ago. Didn't make it better." He bit off the rest of what he was going to say. This was about Cullen, and the pup needed his help. "When was this?"

"Five weeks ago." The young male sniffed again. "They said as long as we stayed apart, 'learned our lesson,' they'd not tell our parents. Saw him every day, couldn't really talk to him, couldn't touch him... Had one friend let us pass notes. Helluva risk; they'd have sent him down too." He paused, digging a forepaw into his eye. "Kept those notes. Daggy, huh?"

The stallion was glad that the pup could at least keep some bit of humor. From the first, Gabriel had told the pup that it was far from "daggy" to be loyal. He let himself smile a little. "You've got email, I hope?"

"Do now. They had the chaperones watch us while we typed emails on the school accounts, to parents and so forth, made sure we didn't email each other. We've got private email addys that the school couldn't monitor, so we had to be watched and made sure that we didn't use them."

Gabriel cut loose with an oath that he probably would never have used in front of the pup under any other circumstance. He glanced up to see that he'd frightened the pup again. Hoping the joke would come across, he said, "You're not to use that for yourself 'til you're old enough, right?"

It worked, and the yowen managed a nervous, pained laugh. "Gonna remember it, though."

"It can come in handy." He grinned just a little, then squeezed him once more. "Tell me the rest. What happened?"

"No idea how I got through finals. Hoping things would let up the following semester, if it looked like we were 'behaving ourselves.' We put one over on 'em, at least -- lied about our train connections. We got away from them long enough to find a place we could be together one more time. Last time..."

The stallion anticipated the pup's action and turned Cullen's face to his chest, preparing for a soaking. He stayed silent for the five minutes or so that it took for the yowen to regain himself. He had an idea of what had happened, but the rest of the story needed telling. Outside, the sun set on a day that, for most people, was filled with food, family, love, sharing. The outcasts, the strays, the ones no one else seemed to want, they would have to be satisfied with it being just another night to get through.

"It was so difficult to separate, but we did. We hoped we'd be together..." The pup took a deep breath, as if inhaling Gabriel's steadying confidence. "I didn't know why I got such a cold reception when I got here a few days ago. I got an email from Sandy, explaining that his folks had been contacted by the Headmaster, who told everything."

Gabriel nodded. "So the figjam got the story, too." He paused as Cullen nodded also. "How did Sandy's folks take it?"

The softness in the yowen's voice was evident. "They told the Headmaster to get stuffed. Threatened charges against him for abuse of minors. They knew about Sandy and me a long time ago. They wanted to meet me, but I could never get an excuse good enough to get away from here to go visit them. They said that they wanted to transfer Sandy to a new school, and they'd help me get in too, if I needed a word put in."

"Sound like good folk to me."

Cullen nodded again. "I thought maybe I could get transferred there too. So, at dinner, I brought up the idea of a new school. And the old dog said he thought it would be a great idea for me to be in a new school. I actually let myself hope for a second. Stupid."

"Hopeful." Gabriel pet the smooth white fur atop the dingo's head. "Nothin' wrong with hopeful, Cully. It'll help you survive the figjams of the world, starting with the one in the main house." He paused again, made the guess. "That's when he sprang it on you?"

The pup nodded against the stallion's chest.

"It's summer hols, Cully. School won't start for--"

"Less than two weeks. It's the U.S.; it's winter there, not summer hols. I'm supposed to be packed and ready to go in four days." The pups's breath hitched again, and he whined softly, "What am I gonna do, Gabe?"

Holding the yowen close, the older male considered for what felt like a dozen minutes, but was probably just that many seconds. The span stretched with his own tumbling memories of what he himself had done, against all odds, against common sense, against even the semblance of simple planning. It would be no life for Cullen, despite the pup's wishes. Still underage, he couldn't even hope for refuge with Sandy and his parents, as they'd be subject to all the laws that Riddell the Tyrant could inflict upon them, from child endangerment to kidnapping. Even an attempt at emancipation might not work quickly enough. Every idea that he could hope to find ended with things working out too badly to be credited. It was a nigh-impossible wonder that Gabriel had survived as well as he had, and he really didn't think the young dingo could do some of the things that had kept the stallion alive all that time.

"First thing, Cully," he said softly, giving the pup another squeeze, "is for you to go back to the house. If the old bastard comes looking for you, and he finds you with me, there'll be even more hell for you to pay. Do you open presents tonight, or in the morning?"

"Night."

"Then you're expected. If you don't get to sleep, Santa won't come, right?" He turned the yowen to face him. "If I'm right, they'll close up your door and expect you not to come out till morning, right?"

"Strictest orders, every year. Like they think I don't know or something."

"What time?"

"No later than eleven."

The stallion planted a quick kiss to the pup's cheek. "Acers. I'll be there."

"Okay." Reluctantly, Cully stood, and Gabriel with him. "What..."

"Go. Least I can do is keep you talking, eh? We'll take the night. See you in a few hours."

The young dingo's departure wasn't swift, but he was likely to be safe enough. He knew to leave the bunkhouse by the back, circle around, make it look like he'd been walking the property or visiting the barn.How young we learn to lie, Gabriel thought, first to those who bore us into the world, then to the rest of the world, all for trying to make us what we're not.

He glanced at the clock, wondered if he were doing the right thing, wondered if he ever did the right thing where his heart was concerned... and decided that there are nights when miracles had to happen. If he couldn't contrive one, perhaps he could at least provide some belief in one.

* * * * * * * * * *

Gabriel arrived early at his dozing spot amid the acers, mostly because he didn't want to bump into any of the other hired paws, in case they wanted to know where he was going or what he was planning to do. He wasn't always this patient, but he had a particular reason to be tonight, and he kept hold of that. The stallion wasn't particularly religious, but he held very strong beliefs about spirit. There were times that he doubted his own strength of spirit, and in those times, he found himself turning to something that he perceived, dimly, as some Spirit larger than himself from which he borrowed some strength to continue on. Whatever it was, it seemed never to let him down, and he found himself turning to it on this night of mixed magicks. He was about to raise his lifetime list of promises from four to five, and he was going to need all the strength he could muster.

The night was warm, a soft breeze blowing gently from the north, clear skies that would be the pride of any reindeer navigator you could name. The Cross was bright and beautiful, and despite the years that tried to make a total cynic out of him, Gabriel felt the essence of the summer world around him, the solstice just spent, a new year approaching... all the things that were supposed to make this time special to yowens and adults alike. A South American artist had told him that his people had a tradition of diving into seven ocean waves on New Year's Eve Night to bring good luck for the year. The stallion wondered if he might try it next week, when he was to have a few days leave in the city. Mindful of his past not catching up to him on such visits, he was usually out on the beach for a run at night, trying to avoid the temptations of a booze-up (and the resulting possibilities of a punch-up). A dive into the warm waves might prove a good challenge.

He let himself sigh softly, wondering how Cully was holding up. He'd be hard-put to imagine a worse challenge than having to pretend to enjoy opening presents with a family that has just put a blade through his heart. He could figure the elder dingo would be real crook if the pup wasn't sufficiently appreciative of the gifts. The very notion of it merited a gold-medal performance that no one could be expected to pull off. Even so, the stallion felt a certain confidence in the spirit of the night, and perhaps even in his own.

He sensed more than knew the time; there was no reason for a timepiece, phone, or anything else to measure the night. The yowen would get there when he got there, and until then, it was time to listen to the soft messages of his own heart and to send up a reasonable facsimile of a prayer that he was doing the right thing. Nestling into his still-comfortable nest of thin-trunked acers, Gabriel let his eyes fix upon the stars peeking through the leaves, then gave his mind leave to take a brief vacation.

The young dog's pawsteps were soft in the grasses, but Gabriel had long since learned how to listen for them. He looked up as Cullen arrived, smiling softly in the darkness. "Cooee, pup."

Without pause, the white-furred dingo set himself next to the stallion and embraced him warmly. Gabriel reached up to return the hug, pet the younger male tenderly, holding him close to his chest. No tears this time, but there was a sense of great weight and resignation in Cullen's cuddle. The Clyde waited for the pup to speak first.

"Awful."

"I could only guess."

"I tried to pretend. Mum took some of the heat for me. I don't think she... well, I'm still her pup, even if the old figjam doesn't think so."

Gabriel squeezed him gently. "The only real comfort I can give you, Cully, is that this is the worst moment you'll ever have to go through. Nothing will hurt this badly again. You'll be your own dog soon, and you'll be able to make it on your own. That's future, and it doesn't feel like much now. When tonight is in the past, and future becomes present, you'll be all right."

"How do you know?"

"I'm here, that's how. I've told you a little about my history. I've left out the worst, because I didn't think you needed to hear it. You still don't. You just need to know that you'll be able to live past all this. You're stronger than you think, Cully. You've got a long life ahead of you. You'll find what makes you happy, and if it comes to that, you can leave Mr. Fart-Biter behind permanently."

"Alone."

"No. Not alone." Tenderly, Gabriel cupped the pup's face in his forepaws and looked him in the eye. "I've made exactly four promises in my life, Cully. The very first one is that I would never make a promise that I didn't intend to keep. Never you mind about the other three; just know that I'm about to make one more. I promise you, Cullen Riddell, that I will always be your friend, that you can always turn to me, and count on me, and that I will be proud to know you and to have you in my life, now and forever."

He leaned forward and kissed the yowen tenderly, even as the pup whined softly, needful, hungry for comfort. In that moment, the stallion knew both that he had just bound himself to another fur's heart, for better or worse, and that he had chosen correctly.Thy paleness moves me more than eloquence, he remembered Bassanio's words well. And here I choose. Joy be the consequence!

Gently, the stallion pulled back from the kiss and regarded the yowen gently. "Cully," he said, petting the pup with a tender forepaw. "I curse myself a coward for not being able to take care of you properly. I can't, and not just because I'm tied to this place for now. I'm also not the one you really want. I'm not Sandy, and I won't try to be. But I know you're hurting, pup, and I don't let my friends..." He swallowed and took the last step. "I don't let people I love keep hurting, if I can help them. Cully--"

Gabriel was surprised by the touch of a forepaw so very softly to his lips. The dingo looked into his eyes with an emotion that belied the small number of his years. He saw hunger, yes, and something like desperation and uncertainty and fear, but even more, he saw a simple, sweet, trusting need that the stallion knew that he could fulfill. Shifting slightly away, the young dog removed his shirt and shorts, calmly, without hurry, and moved back to cuddle the powerful Clyde, to touch and caress gently, to kiss and nuzzle the horse's neck with such tender affection, as if he'd done so for years. Gabriel found himself responding far more intensely than he'd intended, and this too was all right. He rubbed the luxuriously silken fur tenderly, accepting the gift he was being given as he gave the gift that he had chosen so carefully for his beloved young friend. Yes... it was right.

Moaning so very quietly as the pup licked and nibbled as his neck, Gabriel looked up through the trees and saw what might have been a falling star, or a magical sleigh, or just the simple benediction of a benevolent spirit that gave the horse one more chance to believe that love is twice blessed. Such, his heart told him, is the greatest magic there is.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Now on this, the third night of impassioned loving, Gabriel lay on the deep grass, panting heavily, his body lathered and quivering from the throes of his explosive climax, his belly and chest well-coated with the copious quantity of seed that only a teen male can produce. As before, the young dingo fell slowly forward, wrapping his arms around the great horse's chest relaxing his body even as he held the stallion's pride deep within. The Clyde reveled in the sensations of being wrapped in soft-furred dingo, still amazed and so very glad that he had overcome his fear of hurting the pup. When Cullen had first suggested trying, the night previous, Gabriel was rightly concerned. The young dog had proven his skill with paws and muzzle on that first night, and on the second, he had arrived prepared to ask for what he wanted of the stallion. Mutual desire, trust both given and respected, and careful preparation had led to a surprising and delight-filled success that, without saying further, both knew would need to be repeated. It was, for a second time that night, and twice more tonight. It had been some time since Gabriel had been so potent, and he had no doubt as to the reason.

He reached up to caress the yowen's back and headfur, expressing through his touch what he had yet to find breath to voice beyond the soft grunts and monosyllables that the pup, too, was making. He did all he could to push away the thoughts of it being their last time together for the foreseeable future; he had no reason to think he'd visit the States, and it would appear that Cully's parents were not likely to send the pup back to within range of his otter lover. Dawn would come all too quickly, and for the first time in a very long while, he wanted time to dawdle.

His thoughts shifted sharply as the yowen relaxed a little more and, with a soft, mildly comical shlupping noise, the stallion's softening member slipped wetly from within the dingo and flopped languidly to land with its flare brushing the long grass. He felt a pooling of warm fluid as the pup sighed softly, knowing that both now had even stickier balls than before. He smiled a little and kissed the young dog between his ears.

"Mrrr," Cullen opined, his cheek still pressed against the stallion's chest. "You even feel good slipping out of me."

Gabriel chuckled softly and pet the pup. "The in and the out are well paired, from my view. You're a fine lover, Cully, and no mistake."

The young dog squeezed the Clyde warmly, looked up to nuzzle and kiss him again. "Why did we wait so long?"

"Because you're not mine to have." He caressed the dingo's cheek tenderly. "You had Sandy, for one thing, and you've been too young for me to take the risk on."

"Still am," Cullen whispered, a sound of hurt in his voice. "I'd never betray you, Gabriel."

"I know you wouldn't. But someone else might have betrayed us both. We've taken a metric fuck-ton of a chance, little 'un, but we've no other chance. Time forced us. But for what it may be to you, Cully... you're worth the chance."

"Even for a straight guy?" The pup managed an insolent grin.

"Bi, and proud of it. Just prefer the females."

"Even over me?"

Gabriel kissed the grinning lips until the slight whimper in the pup's throat returned in full force. He pulled back, looking directly into Cullen's eyes. "I will not compare you to anyone else, because you're not just anyone else. You're Cully, and you are the fifth promise of my life."

The pup sobered, looked uncertain. "I didn't mean to hurt."

"Not hurt. Just know you're you, that's all. You don't have to take yourself seriously, pup, but don't let anyone else take you for granted. Sandy loves you for who you are, and so do I."

"You...?"

"You're not some quick shag. Not even a three-night stand." The stallion managed a grin of his own, which slowly waned. He could see the look mirrored in Cullen's face. "I don't want to think it either, pup, but there's some things we should talk about."

The dingo pushed his white-furred cheek against the dark taupe chest again, his voice small. "Don't... don't want..."

"I know. I know, Cully." He shifted slightly. "Let's go down to the stream and get cleaned up, then come back and cuddle, all right?" As the pup gripped him tighter again, Gabriel pet the silky-furred head gently. "Let's talk down at the creek, so that we don't have to bring it back here to sleep with. Okay? We'll leave it at the creek, to wash away."

A long moment, another squeeze, and Cullen let himself slide off of Gabriel and onto his back for a moment. Passing a forepaw over his muzzle, as if wiping away a tear, the yowen nodded and made his way to his hindpaws. Gabriel followed, pausing only to collect the towels and soap that he had brought with him. It reminded him, briefly, of another encounter some years ago, one in which it seemed prudent to provide some means of removing some of the scent that would transfer from one partner to the other, since she had such a jealous lover, a vixen who barely tolerated the faintest scent of anything male.

The stream was some fifty meters further away from the main house and grounds, and part of it wound through a sparse patch of trees, providing a little more cover from prying eyes. Even before his liaisons with Cully, the stallion had cooled himself off after day and night runs there. A little pool at one bend was usually a bit more than knee-deep on him, and this time of year, the water ran just warm enough to be enjoyed for itself. Leading the dingo carefully into the water, he and the pup knelt, carrying pawsful of water onto each other's chest and belly before Gabe brought up the soap and began tenderly washing the yowen's fur.

"We've got the emails set up," he said as gently as he could. "I've got a post box at uni, and I'll forward anything you want to send to Sandy, if you can't do it directly, and vice versa, if you can get some means of a private mailbox. I won't even peek." He smiled gently. "I'll do all I can to help you two stay together, but only if he knows about what we've done here. I won't have secrets from either of you; we've got enough secrets to hide from the world."

Cullen looked down for a moment, then back up, blushing. "I told him about you already. Not by name, not by species. I didn't want to do that until you said it was okay, but I told him that 'someone I knew from here' had been... loving to me."

"Details?" the Clyde smiled.

"Not too graphic." The pup accepted the soap and began cleaning the great stallion's firm chest. "I want to keep a few things to myself."

"I won't take him from you."

"Is that a sixth promise?"

"Part of the second, actually." Gabriel kept one forepaw to the yowen's shoulder to balance himself. He closed his eyes, lifting his chin to let Cullen's paw soap up his neck a little. He reveled in the sensations, storing them in his memory as part of the glories of these secret nights. It surprised him a little that a male, particularly one so young and inexperienced, could touch his heart through his body this way. He had no doubts, merely a sense of something wonderful. It had been a very long time since he'd experienced "wonderful."

He felt Cullen press against him to hold him close. Wrapping his arms around the pup, he whispered in his ear, "Good way to make sure we're both properly soapy." The soft giggle told him he'd scored the right point. "I'm here for you, even when you're so far away. I'll keep tabs on Sandy too, make sure he's okay and has a paw to help if he needs it."

"I thought you said you wouldn't take him from me."

The stallion gently nipped an ear, and the yowen yipped sharply. "That'll larn ya," he grinned and squeezed once more. Pulling away gently, he took the soap from Cullen's paw and got more lather from it, reaching down to clean the pup a little more thoroughly. The yowen grunted softly. "Still sensitive?"

"Even through the sheath." He looked up into Gabriel's eyes, smiling. "Turnabout."

The stallion issued a soft whinny at the touch to his prepuce, and the grinning pup was gently but firmly trying to extract the rest of him from within. He put a restraining forepaw to the yowen's eagerly searching paw. "Careful there, Cully."

"Just being thorough." The dingo moved his paw back to the Clyde's broad chest. "I'm sorry."

Gabriel raised the pup's chin and kissed him tenderly in reassurance. "Turnabout indeed," he smiled. "Still hungry?"

"Maybe a little."

"That's not a bad thing."

"I don't want to go."

"I know."

"I want you. I want Sandy."

"I know, pup. I really do." Gabriel brought up pawsful of water to help rinse out the soap. "I want you to come back, to be with Sandy. He's a good 'un, and his folks sound good to me too. If there's a way, I'll help you back. There's something I want you to think about, though." Placing both forepaws to the dingo's shoulders, he asked gently, "If you're feeling what I think you're feeling, you're wondering if you'll ever be able to come back, or if Sandy will wait, or if you'll wait, or if you'll never find anyone as wonderful as he is, not ever again. Is that about right?"

Cullen nodded slowly.

"When you feel like that, I want you to remember me. I want you to remember me anyway, but especially in those moments. You found Sandy, and you found me too, and there's every reason to imagine you'll find others. You deserve love, Cully. And you'll have it. I hope that you and Sandy will be together again, but even if not, you'll always have those memories. And you'll still be in touch with him. He'll always be with you."

"Do you have someone like that?"

"More than one."

"What happened?"

The horse swallowed. "Life. And death. It's how things are, pup. We can't be afraid of losing so much that we forget how to love. You reminded me of that."

For a long moment, Cullen only looked at the stallion. Then, tenderly, carefully, he began to rinse the soap out of the dark taupe hide, smiling softly. "Just taking care of you."

"That's what love is for."

Finishing rinsing each other off, they shared another kiss and waded back to the bank. The details continued as they took up the towels to dry each other, and when the last of the contingencies and assurances had been made, they returned to the acers and settled themselves comfortably once more. Half sprawled across the stallion's chest, the dingo wuffled and whined softly as Gabriel pet him slowly, soothingly, with all the affectionate tenderness he could muster. It was quite a time later that Cullen stirred and moved to look the horse in the eyes.

"Gabe?"

"Yeah, Cully?"

"I want to give you something. Something I haven't given anyone else."

The stallion swallowed. "You already have, in a very important way."

The pup smiled in the starlit darkness. "Demetrius."

"What?"

"My middle name. No one else calls me that. I always thought it was sort of poofy."

Gabriel chuckled. "It's from the Greek goddess Demeter. Know your myths?"

"Corn and harvest," the pup smiled. "I looked it up. She's sad for half the year because her daughter Persephone has to spend that time in the underworld. It's why we have winter. Kinda dumb to me."

"Descriptive. We all need things that describe us. And it fits for you too."

"Why?"

"Because you'll come back. Because even if you're leaving summer here for winter in the States, you'll come back to summer one day. I'll probably still be here, counting pomegranate seeds."

Cullen laughed, kissing the stallion's cheek. "You don't look like a Persephone to me. Percheron, maybe."

"I look French to you?" the Clyde grinned. "Aussie, born and raised!"

"I'll take your word for it." The light in the dingo's eyes dimmed as his lower lip began to quiver. "Gabe..." He dropped his head to the stallion's chest again. "I'm being such a little fag..."

"Hey." Gabriel spoke softly, his forepaw bringing the yowen's chin upward to look into his eyes. "You're not a fag. You can call yourself gay, if you want, but you're not a fag. You're Cully. Cullen Demetrius Riddell." He leaned closer. "You're my Demmie. You're strong, capable, and resolute. You'll outlive the old figjam, and even sooner than that, you'll be your own dog and can get away from him and do whatever you please. You can do it."

He sealed the affirmation with a kiss that the yowen returned with a desperate, whining need, his tail enthusiastically expressing the acceptance of the truth. Wrapping his arms around his young lover, Gabriel held him tightly until the quivering stopped and, at long last, the pup began to relax into a light doze. He felt sure that neither of them would really sleep tonight; rest, certainly, but these last hours together were to be cherished along with the others. The stallion would have to be up and working from early on, and the dingo would have to be ready for a trip to the airport that would feel like a condemned prisoner's last mile. Cullen... Demetrius would probably end up dozing on the plane, or at least pretending to in order to get away from his sire. Gabriel would bunk early that night, get back to his sleep schedule. For now, for right now, this was far more important than sleep to both of them.

"Gabe?"

"Yeah, mate?"

"What's your middle name?"

The Clyde paused. "Stephen. Not my favorite, especially if someone calls me Steve."

"If your middle name was Pegasus, I wouldn't call you Peggy."

"Thanks for that."

The pup giggled as Gabriel tickled him in retaliation. Finally worn out from the laughter, Cullen relaxed while he got his breath back. After a time, he nuzzled the horse's neck again. "I could imagine you with wings. Something mythical. Something strong."

A sense of breaking, deep inside the horse's chest; as much as he had advocated strength to the pup, he wasn't sure that he had it himself. He breathed in, remembered his promise, and chose.

"Demmie," he said softly. "I haven't got much middle name to give you, because it's not one that I share with anyone. So there's something else I want to give you, if you'll accept it." He kissed the yowen long and sweetly then, looking deeply into his eyes, he spoke the deepest truth he had. "Demetrius... you are the only male in my life who has been able to claim so much of my heart. That is my gift to you -- a piece of my heart, for you and you alone, for all my life."

The dingo climbed atop the great stallion yet again, sprawled across him, holding and being held. Gabriel felt the bond cement itself, as if what had broken in his chest had healed, reshaped, opened to give and receive a gift he had wondered if he could still share. He could. As Demmie had shown him, he still could. The pup's weight was a feather, and for the first time in years, Gabriel knew that his own heart would pass the test of Anubis.

Live, Demmie, he thought as he ran his forepaws through the silken white fur.Live, be who you are, who you really are. You can do it. I know you can...