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*pants* just.... just... lemme explain....

I know, I know.... I passed at least 10 days after deadline.... I'm guilty.... I'm sorry....

But life got in the way........ i'm moving soon..... and... well... that part is not important

anyways, enjoy, all

Disclaimer: This is an adult furry fiction that will contain violence, sex and some inappropriate languages that are not suitable for people under the age of 18. If you do not like furry, M/M, or sex, please do not read this series. The famous brand names within the story is not mine, but the characters are belongs to myself only.

** Chapter 2: Our Friday**

"I could be yours all day," Joseph replied, his hands slither up my sides playfully, "but I need a little more... convincing...." His eyes sparkled with anticipation when he looks up at me.

"Hmrrr," I purred, snatching his waistline and pulling him closure, earning his astonished yelp. "I'm good with persuasion ..." I tipped his chin up to look at that face I fell so deeply in love with, and bent down to kiss him on those red, soft lips...

"SAVE YOUR MONEY FOR MAY 5th! 'CAUSE NAPNATION IS GIVING AWAY MATTRESSES AT UNBELIEVABLE PRICES!"

Mugh...

Those dreams needs to go on for much longer than that.

I reached for the radio alarm that blasted its repetitive, yet always played NapNation commercial. "Now you can save up to thirty percent or more on bedpost when you buy a PadBest brand mattress! And that's not all; if you buy one Hellian brand mattress, we'll give you a second one... for free! Offers last for a limited amount of time, so hurry on down for this giveaway! For more information, see your local stores for details."

Oh dear. Here comes the fucking chorus.

"NapNation, U S A! Why buy a mattress anywh.."

I silenced the radio like any other civil beings would, recoiling my paws back under the mattress to prevent heat from escaping. Well, that'll teach them for using the same catch phrase for 20 years in a row.

The sunlight brightens the olive-green room and shines onto the silver carpet, spraying the light back into the ceiling and dappling it with an amber haze. The dustless air rids with the smell of cool breeze, coming from the window outside of my condominium. Perhaps I should go to the gym today, followed by a peaceful jog along the water front in this heavenly sunshine. With one class today and the weekend is ahead of me, I am more than happy to get started with my day. The forecast predicted sunny weather all of today, Saturday, and Sunday, perfect time to go and get some rock climbing or even parkouring on the streets of Seattle with Wil and Greg before they leave to go to the Eastern USA again. I bet one of them will contact me and, before you know it, we'd be biking up Mt. Rainier again. Actually, I'm quite surprised either of them haven't called yet...

I try to pick myself up and out of the bed, but the desire to stay in bed easily overpowered everything else. Giving in to the urge, I slumped right back onto the mattress, yawning and snuggling my muzzle into the pillows that smells of the recently-used detergents. There's this gentle, lazy throb that sores right beneath the ankles that gently massages your leg muscles, which I'm sure it's a feeling everyone had before. If you shift, that fuzzy soreness in the shin sends a numbing sensation up your spine you cannot help but see it as a tender bliss of the morning. Call me lazy, but this is I all I needed to feel; how the soft duvet hug around my back and about my legs; how my pillow fits nicely around my feline head; and how that gentle breeze flows through the window and caresses my face. Flipped to look at the ceiling, I rest my hands behind my head.

Living by yourself in an apartment is great. You get to choose your own furniture you wanted, like this antique chair beside me I found at a flea market in Kent, which is not far from Seattle. Your music can go as loud as you want, as late as you want, and be in whichever genre you want, assuming your neighbors are just as loud as mine. There's never a concern whose belongings goes where, which sofa I can sit on and which console I can't play with; I can trash the place up if I really wanted to without anyone's permission. Best of all, no stupid drama I intended to not deal with: Roommate's friend crashing at my place, smoking pot in my kitchen, dirty sex scandals in my room... you name it... after all, this is college scrumbags we are talking about.

Wait, scratch that. The best part: privacy. Heck, I can roam around this place naked or eat chips on the couch if that is what my intentions are. The bathroom door doesn't have to be completely shut, so I can hear the phone or door chime ring (though I never remembered ever getting to them damn calls). You know those feelings that you're being watched in the dorm rooms, and how you have to be cautious of what you do or not do, because you aren't the only fur in the room? I hate that; I can barely kept my sanity with another guy here, peering at me in my room when I'm sleeping, watching what I'm seeing on TV, looking over your desk, listening to you and your friends conversation, planning his schedule after examining your time schedule... oh shit, speaking of schedule... I have to go to my class that starts in about an hour or so.

Actually,you know what? Screw Computational Analysis lecture today; no one ever goes into the Friday class, since that's when the TA's show up. I didn't have a personal grudge against my TA, but I honestly think he has no fucking clue what he's suppose to do in our class. I played good tuition money for an education that was supposively the top in the world and...

*Ring*

The phone rings, breaking the morning silence I so enjoyed. Groaning, I extended my hands outward to grab my phone. Oops. I missed, the large phone twirling and mocking me with my own ring tone as I reached to try again. Yes, got it now. It's a call from my mom....mom! Shit, I forgot to tell her that I'm not going home this weekend.

"Hey, mom" I spoke into the phone. "What's up?"

"Hello, dear," the female voice on the other end greeted. "You coming home for dinner tonight? Your father told me that you have to do some studying over the weekend."

"It's not studying, momma. There's a bunch of crap Llyman wants me to look over in the lab. You know about that Ginderson Effect? Well, apparently, he gets a serious hard on in the crotch that subject of matter, and I swear he probably ejaculates thinking of his new-found property of water in every individual. He is constantly insisting that he saw it for a whole two minutes of god-knows-what, when there was absolutely nothing to observe at all." I described, finally able to pull my duvet off. "It's going to take some time to redo all that stuff again with him, so it's very likely I'm not coming back this weekend." Setting my paws on the cool carpet, I make my way to the bathroom. "Sorry I can't make it to dinner."

"Sure, sure, it's fine, Tommy. I'll know not to buy so much at the farmer's market today. You do what you have to do, dear."

"Oh! You're going with Mrs. Randels to that place again? You should buy more of their bananas. They're huuuge."

"Yeah, she and I planned this out two days ago. And yes, I will buy some. Jacqueline's going on a diet again, and that fruit is the only thing she'll eat ." She answered, a shuffling fabric tells me that she's probably looking for something to wear at the moment. "Yo want me to bring anything for you?"

"Nah, I'm okay then. But please, don't buy that goat cheese ever again. It's gross as hell, and it stenches the whole house with the smell of bird crap." I walked into the washroom, cell clamped in between my neck and head as my hands reach for the sink.

"Seriously? That's the best goat cheese I've had since I was your age!"

"Then I'm definitely not going back this weekend." I pressed my face into the mirror, trying to see if any facial furs got tangled during my sleep. Without effort, I saw one spot: a couple of black strands knotted with the oranges at the bottom corner of my maw. "Make sure you get rid of that shit before I come next week."

"Language, young man,"

*sigh.*

Mom's. They catch you whenever they can.

"Suit yourself, Tom. Your sister and brother loved it just as much as I do. But hey," she added, the noise in the background becoming more detectable, "I'll speak to you over the phone next time, Shelly will be here any moment."

"Say hi to Mrs. Randels for me, pleas.....Ow, fuck!" I grunted, pulling the scrambled fur out of my skin. Now that really woke me up.

We shared the moment of silence between us, and it was then when I anticipated another one of those nags coming for me. "Could you stop pulling your facial furs out!" My mom barked into the phone, ruffling something in the background "Jesus, I swear I bought you those night untangling cream before Christmas." It's funny how she knows exactly what I am doing. Mothers are just good like that.

"They don't work," I stated calmly, satisfied that the tangled fur is gone. I rub the spot a little to ease the acute pain. "The fur grows back anyways, I don't see the fucking deal."

"They Do Work, Tom. You just never bother to put them on at night. Try them on a few times,... you'll be surprised. And just where are your manners? Be a little more civil to your own mother, please?"

"Bye mom," I was starting to get a little annoyed about how she is still treating me like a 13 year old kitten.

"Alright! I get it, I get it," her voice chuckled over the speaker. "Bye, Tommy."

I hope she never calls me by that name ever again.

I set my cell onto the granite surface of the sink after I hung up, debating whether I should shower first , or after I worked out in the gym. Or shower before AND after I workout?

...I'll shower later after Fit-World... after I worked out for a bit.

Some twenty minutes later, I'm dressed, I pissed, I'm out of my Ford, and I'm pressing the remote control button to lock the doors to my car. My workout bag in my hand, I proceeded into the largest fitness center Seattle City has to offer. This place is where you'll find the best of the elites of bodybuilders of all kinds. Checking in, I presented my premium pass to this brawny Rottweiler on my way into the entrance. "Thank you," was all he said, his eyes glance down behind the counter to resume his work. I turn into the locker room, strip off my t-shirt, and glanced at the mirror located conveniently within the door of the storage locker.

To many of the guys here, I was nothing less of Hercules. I curl and check my leg and bicep's shape in my mirror image, even though I'm always dissatisfied with how I look, I roar through my reps, although it sometimes hurt my throat in doing so, and I often end up "assisting" a few female figures of this gym, with a few exceptions to those truly clingy ones I've met a while ago. I've built from a normal an' sensible 150 pounds teenage weight to 214.5 pound of a professional mass in 2 and a half years, keeping my fat ratio to something as low as 9 to 14 percent.

...What? 13 percent is good for a feline like me. You tell me I'm fat when you can resist a good-grilled steak or a nicely wrapped burrito.

I further examined my limb through the mirror, bending my shoulder slightly so that I can see a good portion of my arms. I have large humerus bone, so my bicep can hold more and compact larger muscles than other species can. My shoulders are mighty fine as well; board and thick, just how I like 'em to be. The two little humps on the joint of my neck and my shoulder further impresses any girl I ever so happen to meet (and the guys, too, obviously).

It'll be a short 2 hour workout on my back and abs for today. The six pack I have right now refuses to morph into the glorious eight set of muscle I ever so wanted. For about two months, I have donated a significant amount of time to train them, working on crunches and twists that were purposely designed to build the last 2 muscles. But they have their own piece of rebellious and annoying mindset, and that is some intolerable bullshit I cannot accept. Finally, after some feeble attempt to nail those muscles myself, I sought out help from one of these hunks in the gym that has successfully built his, a guy who, lucky for me, just so happens to be a professional Doberman body builder. Now, I intended to show those two remain muscles just who is the real boss of their own bodies.

Then again... It'll have to wait after I work on those back muscles.

I change into my muscle shirt, earning a few 'admiring' glances from the others in the gym. At first, they attempt to pick out any flaws they can find on my body, examining my body from head to toe with that unfriendly gaze upon their eyes before they fucking mind their own business in the change room, probably satisfied after knowing the fact that there's some parts of their body is better than mine. Maybe I'm just a tiny bit cynical about this whole thing, but hey, that's the feeling I get every time these jerks gives me these irritating stares. You know, at first, you kinda get this feeling that it's okay and such, even a little bit proud of your own body when they look at you the way they do. After a while, it get just a bit more annoying and even a bit scary, perhaps coming from a natural instinct that is built into my feline gene. Sure, I know I'm buff as hell (yes, I'm damn well aware of that), but can't they check me out when I'm not looking? I mean... seriously...

But this is something I got used to though. Even though there's still this dim, weird feeling in the back of my head every time they look, you learn to ignore them when you understand that it's useless to fight against these urges to dig their eyes out. I stuff everything else into the locker and shut the locker door, tugging the handle lightly to make sure I fastened the lock correctly before I leave and hit the weights.

I passed the racks filled with dumbbells. Quite honestly, I'm not the kind of guy who abuses the dumbbells in the gym. I'm not against them or such, but if I were to pay 158.00 every month just to go to this place, I might as well use my time on the machineries I can't fit in my condo. To start out... maybe a bit of those smith machine's workout would be good.....

I pushed 450 additional pounds of weight onto the smith machine. 20 reps....I stood front of the barbell, and unleashed the hook.

My arms pushed against the bar and my elbows locked against my sides. I grunted, exhaling as I did my first squat.

Two. Three. Four. My knees hardened as I did five. Six. Seven. Eight...

"GRAHHH."

Eleven, twelve. If I were a bystander looking at myself, I would see my neck tendons poking out and ready to kill someone.

Thirteen. Damn, I want some Oreos....

Fourteen. No. Sugar is bad for tigers.

I think I got a few fur's attention, watching me in between their own reps as I pushed myself to my limit once more. Maybe that bull over there is counting how many reps I'm doing, and maybe that hyena is waiting for me to drop the weight so that he can laugh in their annoying tone.

Fifteen. My teeth clenched tightly and let out an inaudible snarl.

Come on, Thomas Hahn... DO IT. You still that mama's boy?

Sixteen. IS THAT ALL YOU'VE GOT?! "GRahhh...." My growl companied by the rattling of these burden on my shoulders.

Seventeen. 3 more...

Eighteen. My vision is painted with a slight crimson color as I eyed my own reflection in the far distance. My grip on the weight tightened to compensate for my incontrollable shaking.

"NINETEEN!" I hollered to the crowd, and slammed my palm against the bar. "TW...TWENTY!"

I set the smith machine back to its original position, slightly light headed as I stepped away from the Smith. The bull acknowledged me quietly, hands on his waist as he nods to me. Maybe he's secretly trying to impress me. After he returned to the bicep curl, he deliberately slid his notch down to increase about 50 pounds. In spite of his big size, I can see that his posture is all wrong; he's leaning forward, and that puts too much stress on your back muscle in the wrong way. Stupid idiot.

I got bored of what I'm looking at, and intended to return to my back workout when I heard a blood curling scream from behind me.

"SPOT!"

That was the code for anyone who goes often. You hear that, you drop whatever you are doing to go to the bench press. I rushed towards the source, only to find a small, Asian figure with his cap worn backwards pinned down on the bench station with the bar bearing right on top of his chest, cutting out his remaining air flow to his lungs. The kid in the white cap strained for air, hands shaking as he desperately pushes against....what? 175 pounds of weight...

How's that even hard to lift?

"Thomas," the voice inside my head preached, "Shuddup, and fucking help."

I reached out one of my hand to grab the barbell, exerting upward force to put the bar back at its place. The moment I lift up the barbell, I hear fortunate gasp of air below me. Good. He's not dead yet. I look down... Wait. I know him... He's...

He's that waiter that served us last night at that rib house. That waiter that daringly nailed Todd on the spot. He's that guy who, though timid, did his very best to crack jokes, make snide comments on the chef... He's that boy that I simply cannot forget when he shy away and blushed every time I looked directly at his face. He looks into my eyes, showing just as much surprise as I have for him.

Oh, crude fates. Why bring the man whom I have a crush for in front of me once more?

"Oh hey," I broke the long silence in between us. "You're... Josh, right?"

He flashes that nervous smile at me. "It's Joseph, actually." was all he said, his hands rubbing themselves together.

Fuck....me.... "Joseph... right.... haha," I uttered quietly, wanting to kill myself at the moment for giving the wrong name.

"...Thomas?" his voice cracked as he pronounced my last syllable. I laughed lightly, and Joseph turned his head away to the ground in embarrassment. "Sorry I pulled you away from your workout." He bit his lower lip, seemingly cursing himself for screwing up on our second encounter. I never got to see this side of him from the rib house. but... he's pretty damn cute from where I'm standing at.

I mean, sure, his stature is smaller than us, but his face... something I can't describe. It was as if something clicked in the back of my head, that he was the key to somewhere inside me that even I couldn't reach. This is the feeling that reminded you of how sweet water really tasted, and how pleasant the air smells like. You know that the narrow eyes ain't one of the attractive features you find in top models, nor is the somewhat flat nose or unevenly tanned skin. You know that all you saw before today was not real; that the optimistic and playful personality is just his average work attitude, and not his everyday personality at all. You know that you're going to have trouble holding this Asian kid's hand without being stared at or sneered at for even being around him, not to mention hugging or kissing him out in the open. Then, something inside you tells you that you really don't give a damn about all this, and it is the warm gut feeling that you trust.

"That's me. Call me Tom, though" I fisted my chest playfully. "I knew I saw you from somewhere else when we met at that rib house." He smiled lightly, his palm resting on the edge of the bench. He tries to look calm and untensed, but I can still sense that distance he is keeping from me. Ignoring this, I continued on with this light conversation, "You know, it was a bit harder to recognize you, cause you wear your cap all the time in here."

He laughed at that, the giggle barely heard even with my acute feline ears. "You were the best waiter I've seen in a very long time, you know. You were so happy and cheerful as opposed to that whacked hostess. And... " I let a chuckle slip pass my maw, "the thing you pulled on my rhino friend there? Now THAT was epic."

"Well..." he started with a weak up rise of the corner of his mouth, " you'll be quite disappointed at how shy I really am in real life." I can see Joseph mentally kicking himself in his head for his honesty. "I guess I should just stick to the treadmill next time," Joseph said, his head hung low in humility. He adjusted his cap, pressing it flatter against his hair. "It wasn't really a good idea for me to lift weights, wasn't it?"

I couldn't understand what happened to me after he said his depressing thoughts. A small part of me raised my voice against someone I barely know. "Nonsense!" I blurted, setting a hand on his shoulder. "Everyone's gotta start from nothing once in their life."

"I was about 150 something when I first began, 2 years ago or so. And now... I'm nearly 220 pounds! You know what else? Todd, as you know, the tentacle loving friend at the restaurant last night? Ya... 2 years ago, he was about the same too, before he started to do weird stuff. After that, he put on a nice 90 pound of meat. I wouldn't say that's all pure muscle, though."

"I wonder what type of weird stuff he was into," Joseph replied, eyes rolling as he laughed.

Well, that got him smiling, at least. "The point is, Joseph, we all meet some sorts of obstacle somewhere down the road, but if you back out, nothing'll ever be done."

I thought about returning back to my routine, but... I can't just leave him there. Not like I'm abandoning him, but then I certainly do feel that way if I were to walk away now. Joseph's a pretty nice guy, and it doesn't seem all that bad when he's around. Perhaps if I spend a little time with him I can get him to be the way he was last night... The guy I couldn't stop thinking about "You should weight lift with me from now on. I'll be your trainer-ish kinda guy, and I can show you a few tricks I've learned over the years. When you don't have work, we'll be right here working on those chest and abs. How's that sound?"

"wha... oh..." Joseph bit his lip, as if in a terrible dilemma. "I... I dunno." His eyes burned for my attention, looking at me as if desperately seeking confirmation to my words. But something... something in his mind is telling him that this is a bad idea....

"So? What's it gonna be?" I asked, tapping my feet lightly, mocking my impatience.

He gave one hard thought before answering in a soft voice, "That's very kind of you to offer this," Joseph looked back up again, "but believe me, you'll be irritated at my durability and my inability to... you know... lift."

"I don't think that'll be a problem..." I talked back to him, "In fact, how about we start right now?"

"You're not serious, are you?" Joseph jerked up from the bench, startled by my sudden proposition.

"Actually, I am." I pushed into his chest as Joseph, who's eyes wide with shock, collapsed back down onto the bench on his back. "Now, you show that bar who's the boss."

* * *

I had never been pushed so much in my entire life. By the end of our workout session, I honestly swear that my arms and legs are separated from the rest of my body, the nerve ends numbed and the muscles twitches every now and then. Thomas however... he's can probably do another 50 set like a walk in the park .

After some terrible attempt at bench pressing, he introduced me to these other chest exercises. I kindly refused the offer, but Tom won't have it any other way. He'd give me these nudges (which to me were really punches), laugh with me (or at me, I'm not sure), and sit me through another rep. It was awkward at first, though... having someone you know little about push you through the workout and pat you on the back when you're done. It gets better though, because by the end of it, you are too tired to even contemplate about the time.

And You know, being a big hunk of sexy meat, he's not all that bad. You'd think that they would be some ego-centric, inconsiderate assholes that cares about nothing but himself, but he's quite the contrary; a football player with a brain, now how often do you get that? I mean, he wants me to see this macho-man mentality he puts on, but sometimes, he would have these careless slips that displays the his higher thinking. Like when he...

"Just one more for me on the chest machine, then we'll call it a day," Thomas flung me a look as he sat back down onto the patted seat, adjusting the weight meter. I was brought back to reality as he locked in the heaviest weight the machine has to offer. "I'll spare you this last one, only 'cause you worked extra hard today." He gives my nose a annoying flick before he pressed the handle before him, letting me watch him as he works those magnificent muscles. I give a wrinkled smile, rubbing my itching nose when my eyes takes in the stunning sight.

No, I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen. It is truly magnificent to just look at him. To me, even just the slightest touch of his muscle is worth the war against a thousand ships. I watch those contraction and extension of your chest muscle, budging through those wet, white A-shirt. Your nostrils flared when you pushed the handle in front of you and then relaxed when you set the weights back. The grunts you make reminds me of the things you could do to me...

You glanced in my direction, and I quickly looked away, hoping the tent in my pants wasn't too obvious for your keen eyes. You can't know the things that went on in my brain: how you would just tear my clothes off in the shower and take me up in the butt right there and then; how you would cling me tightly against you as you made sure we both climbed to climax....

Sorry, Thomas. I have this tendency to stare at other people who looks too hot for their own good. And in the corner of my eyes, I saw you shake your head in amusement, pressing out the few last reps. Shit. Was that a dead giveaway?

But I can't help it. Anytime I see a body that just begged to be touched, a sweaty piece of flesh that is asking for me to wipe it clean with my tongue, or just a gentle offer of kindness by a man who's body and voice promise you that they'll be in your sickest fantasy; my eyes would be drawn to them like a magnet drawn to metal and stare until they would notice which, let me remind you, takes quite a while. Then, they would either smile warmly or glare in disgust, telling me that I'm not as transparent as I think I am.

It only gets worse if they offer a friendly gesture; the ones you know that wouldn't be so bad once you really get to know him. Even if it's a calm 'hi' or a pleasant grin, my mind would cease to let a normal conversation continue, and all that would come out of my stupid mouth are stammering speeches at best. That's what you did, Tom. You decided to not leave me to my own fantasy I picture just yester-night, but be directly involved in my life. You offered to help bring the weakling of this gym to someone who is more confident about his own body, a task that would spend decades for me to accomplish. You gave your time to ruffle my hair when I'm clumsy, joke when I'm depressed, laugh when I don't.

You chose me to be one of your friend... that's... never happened to me. Not by someone like you. Not by someone I wanted so much.

Call me a teenager with an abundance of sex hormone, but this is the time when I excuse myself to jerk off in the washroom.

"29." Tom muttered under your breath as the metal clangs for the very last time. "30!" He finished his rep, I assume, resting his arms on the knee for a few seconds and catching his breath while a grin of satisfaction crept across Tom's face. Heaving, he grabbed my shoulder as support to pull himself up, making me lose my balance slightly as his enormous weight pinned my right shoulder. "Whoo..." Tom sighed with exuberance, "So how'd you like your training session with me today?"

I lowered my head, pretending to be reminiscing about today's event. I couldn't just tell him 'Hey! I have a crush for you! Let's Hang!' No. That's quite stupid and bold and... well... just stupid.

Besides... it's not like he is who you think he is...

"Ummm... It's fine. I'm... I'm really exhausted now." I let out a nervous chuckle, "I don't think I can walk in a straight line after that leg extension machine thing...."

"Oh, that," his ivory teeth glittered with the light in the room, "See these?" He curled his knee forward to show off his hind muscles below the knee. "One of the first muscles I concentrated on in here." he simply stated, watching me intensely to see my reaction.

Wait... he's really staring at me.

I have no choice but to look down at his leg, seeing how his bone structures differ than human's pod. He's shoeless, like most furs, and...yeah... that muscle is probably the part of him I'd really wouldn't put that much attention into. "It's...nice... I guess..." I lied, my hands scratching the back of my head in confusion. He puts on a genuine laughter before he lets his paws glide along my neck to my shoulder on the other side. I feel my face burn, secretly liking the' friendly' gesture he's having with me. He gave the shoulder a nice rub or two, fingers gripping the sore muscle in his paw. This tiger's something I would have no trouble getting used to. "T...Tom?" I asked, looking up at him, probably dumbfounded and the nervous wreck I usually am. "We're... done... for today, right?"

His hand guided me to the change room, "Yeah. Let's get out of these first," your face gives me a hint that you are thinking of something else, but I let that thought go as both of us entered the locker room.

This athletic center didn't only earn its place in Washington with its fitness supplies; it's known for the bathroom's tidiness and luxurious attention to the details. It's one bathroom you really want to call home... well... it's better than my home, as many of you would probably know by now. It has a heavy accent of that like the ancient Roman public bathhouse; stylistic stone arches on wall; a smooth, but not slippery pebble mosaic decorates the floor; even the benches have a bronze finish.

I sat down on the nearest bench and took off the wet, black shorts. "So are you going to take a shower?" Tom asked as he reaches for his lock as he tries his combination.

"I might... ha... you see," I started shyly, my shoes scraping against the marble wall while I slipped into my loose jeans, "I don't sweat this much usually. So I don't have my shampoo or soap here."

"You can use mine..."

"Yours is fur soap!" I pointed out. "I can't use that!"

"Oh... right..." Thomas giggled, grabbing his bag, "I forgot you humans need to use 'shampoo'." His emphasis on the last word. "I really don't know the difference..."

I started to flip through my own bag as my back faced him. "The last time I used a bar soap meant for you guys didn't end up so well. Before I know it, there's this thick, gooey, and sticky layer of... of..."

"conditioner," Thomas said from behind me, "ah. Now I see why."

"aa... I think so... anyways," I continued, "thanks, but no thanks. I think I'll just use my deodorant...."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a black ox about the same height as Thomas Hahn walked out of the shower, wet and, get this, naked. My jaw lost control once more as I looked at the glistening pecs He dries off his head, his dick shakes proudly with each scrub he makes. It's gotta be a least 8 inches long, and it isn't even fully... you know... standing!

"Ya mind, faggot?"

Oh shit.

He saw me.

The ox is obviously disgusted, his eyes shooting venom while I do my best to look apologetic. Thomas heard that, without doubt, and shared a brief eye contact before I grabbed my stuff and snuck out the locker room. "Hey," was all I heard from the tiger as I passed the front desk and exited the building.

"Hey, wait the fuck up!" Thomas called out, his voice a tensed. I stopped in the middle of the parking lot and turned to the sound, seeing his figure now with a red polo and white shorts. "Dude, you let that asshole push you around?"

"I... I don't want to start a fight..." I replied, adjusting the bad on my shoulder, "I don't think I want him on my bad side..."

"Still, he's a dick nonetheless," Thomas added, his brows frowning slightly, "if you want, I can hold him down and you give him a good kick in his sorry ass." With that, he turned to the gym's entrance, and marched in with confidence.

"No! No! No!" I added, gripping his arm lightly, "I don't wanna be..." What am I doing?

I'm not grabbing his arm, as I realized seconds later. It's his hand I'm holding. I felt the tiger's firm hold onto my petite hands, looking back down at me, a slight confusion in his eyes. But in them, I found the same gentle eyes I fell for the first time I met him; those eyes that gave me an odd sense of... comfort...a feeling that I'm safe again...

If we could only stay like this...

It took me a good minute to realize the position I am in, with his huge paw still in my hand. I let go immediately, hiding my shameful face from the man of my dream. The blush on my face grows tenfold, stunned at my idiotic action against Thomas. He's not who you think he is, Joseph. This Thomas gave you a few good glances, and that's enough to convince yourself think that he's willing to spend the rest of his life with you? Impossible, Joseph. Simply impossible. The best thing you can wish for is to have him pity fuck you. "Umm..." I gulped, "I better go. I have to catch the 1:15 bus."

Surprisingly, Thomas laughed, his large paw patting my shoulder, "Oh Joseph..." he shook his head, smiling as he pasted me, nonchalantly brushing against my body. "You want have lunch? We can eat at the Gretain Mall. The food court there's pretty good." He look in my direction one more time, putting on one of his widest grin, "I'll give you a ride..." I don't know if it was me or not, but the way he said it puts a double meaning on the phrase. The way he looks at me is also very... peculiar. Like he's some kind of evil mastermind planning out some destruction of the world, and wants me somehow indirectly related.

"But..."

"You should come, it'll be fun. I guarantee it." He carry his bag over his shoulder as he walks toward the parking lot, a smirk never leaving his face. "C'mon, we'll be able to beat the traffic before rush hours comes in."

But, being the easy push over I am, I followed silently.

* * *

"Wait, let me get this straight," Joseph asked, swallowing his last piece of the submarine sandwich. "You're dad owns one of the largest advertising company in New York..."

"Yes. Though it's not advertising, it's called commercializing public relations."

"You volunteered in the AIDS and HIV program in Kenya..."

"Ya." I sip the lemon juice in front of me. "Twice, actually. But the second time in Zimbabwe."

"You worked in a mental hospital in Shoreline." He takes another bite into his smoke turkey sub.

"I believe I said that. I study microexpressions and body language in psychiatric ward."

"What is that, exactly?"

"Very small emotions and muscle movements of your face related to each separate emotions. I can tell if you are sad, or faking sadness by analyzing your face, or see your reactions to certain words to see your likes and dislikes"

He stopped chewing on his sandwich, covering his mouth before he speaks with a mouthful of food, "Then why are wyou here?" Joseph looked at me with bewilderment, "fursw and people like you swhould be in bwetter swchools then UW. WLike the Ivy's."

It's so cute... I mean... his Asian accent and slurred words.

"Well," I began, my fork prodding the cold ham in front of me, "My father loves the Northwest. Especially Vancouver, Canada. He told me that, when he was young, he never got to really enjoy the wild outdoors, being in New York and all. He never even learned to ride a bike, never learned how to swim, nor ever knew about tree-climbin'."

"I don't climb trees," Joseph shrugged politely, "I don't see the proble..."

I gave him a prolonged glare before I answered him, "we're felines, it's what we do."

"Oh. And I thought stereotyping is bad."

"Well, now you know," I acknowledged, sitting back straight again. "So he said, 'Son, why don't you and your mother move to the west? I'll stay and work here, and I'll visit you when it's the weekend!' So he flies here every weekend, spending time with my mom and such. I guess that's his way of trying to protect my childhood memories. But to answer your question, you should really see the rankings for our medical school."

"What is it?"

"It's the top three in medical research. So I thought to myself, 'hey, why not just stay around?' My mom agreed, and... bought me a condo about fifteen minute walk away from the U."

"Wow..." was all he said, nodding his head as he munched down the last piece. "You have really nice parents." He looked at my last spinach leaf as I place it into my mouth. "I wished I had parents like that..."

"And how about you?" I asked, wondering about his own life story, "is yours just as complicated and ridiculous as mine?" I joked, knowing that he'd probably laugh at the egoistic remark.

He didn't.

His eyebrows frowned a little as he gulped down the last bite. Fear, I see in his body language, shoulders sinking into his chest, fingers clutching and tensing. His eyes, for one millisecond, displayed disgust, the tense wrinkle near the periphery and the flaring of his nostrils. Of course, seeing this, I added quickly before I crossed the point of no return. "Hey, if you don't wanna talk about it..."

"No, it's fine." Joseph took a napkin, cleaning each fingertip as his mouth opened to speak, and closed again. It doesn't take much at all for you to know he isn't happy about his past. Before long, his lips parted once more, "I... didn't exactly have a great childhood. My mom and dad married when they were in Taiwan. They moved here so that I can have a better education, but things didn't turn out so well, as I was told, and mom just gave up on us. Dad, according to his own words, can't find a 'decent' job, so he ended up as a 'service provider', shall we say, and mom said that he sucks at that too. They rarely come home anymore, either she's out hanging out with his new 'boyfriend' of the time, or he's out working his ass off to catch up to the deadline.

" My dad is... well... not exactly... the worst father, but I swore he could have done better... but... I can't blame him, and I really should understand and sympathize for him, knowing what he went through. He could see, day by day, that his wife is leaving him for another man he knows in the headline article of the Chinese newspaper. He can tell that the marriage is on a trail to nowhere, but all he did was cowardly convince to himself that everything's alright, and mom's just stressed out about moving to America, having to adjust to the new environment and all. He told me over and over again that mom will read bedtime stories to me again, that she'll walk me to school every day, and will never leave us in our house all by ourselves anymore. But when she did, she didn't even turn around to look at me or my father again. The last I've heard of her is that she is in Taiwan, having a great life with his new husband."

He fiddles around with the napkin a little more, his eyes never in contact with mine, "This got my father on his drinking habits. Every time he comes home after work, there's at least a rack of beer or a glass of whiskey in his hand. The house is a mess, the garden is untended, and, guess who's job it is to do them?"

All I can do is smile weakly and sympathetically. Boy, has he been through a lot. "Judging by what you have said, this is why you think you are the way you are? Why you are in Douglas Fur, and why you weren't.... excelling through high school?"

He lets out a satirical huff before he went on, "I have to learn a lot of things by myself, like how to cook for both of us, how to clean the roof's gutter, and Sowing even... But my dad..."

"Enough..." I cut him off, hoping to end his sadness with it.

"He never loved mom again... or me, for that matter."

"Hey, hey. What did I say?" I eased him, playfully punching his shoulder before he asked me a question.

"How did you know?"

"How did I know what?"

"How did you know that I wasn't about to say something good about my past before I even said it? You told me that I don't have to talk about it when you don't know anything about me?"

"Oh, I know more than you think," I winked, "There are things I learned from the time I worked at the home of the psychopathic patients. You see, microexpressions and body languages cannot be controlled, even if you are the best liars in the world. They are the unconscious facial muscle movement we exhibit on ones' face that is related with each emotion. A combination of both lets me know further about your current feeling and, if I'm lucky, what you are thinking. So when... actually, instead of telling you, lemme show you."

I peered around the mall to find an easy example. "See? Look over there at those two humans, the two guys. One them has a blue t-shirt, and the other, a checkered backpack?"

"Yeah, I see it." Having to look over me, he extended his neck outward. "What about them,"

"Okay, just watch their body language."

He and I watched as the two gentlemen went on a casual conversation. One of the human, after a few minutes, crossed his arm and took a miniature step back. Ah... so typical. "See that? That kid is lying."

"You didn't even hear what they said!" Joseph said, his mood brightened once more.

"I don't have too," I said proudly, leaning back on my chair. "He crossed his arm in defense, so the other guy must've crossed some lines of privacy. The kid replied, and then gently took a small step back, creating a bigger gap between the two. Thus, it shows that he has no confidence in what he just said. And then, I can conclude that he is lying to the guy, or, at the very least, is concealing the truth." Hoping that boredom won't strike him, I cut the conversation short. "So you shouldn't ever lie to me. I would know, eh."

"Yeah. It would sound like a bad idea," Joseph laughed, "hey, can we drop by Abercrombie and Fitch for a minute? I need to buy a few things I liked online."

"You know some stuff won't be in the store, right?" I asked, cleaning up our table and picking up the tray. "They don't necessarily have everything on the internet."

"Oh come on. What else do they have other than the usual shit?" Joseph said, walking to the garbage can, "polo, thick jeans and pants, useless jackets with horrible fur linings inside, and maybe a few button up t-shirt. That is it, my friend."

"That's true," I acknowledged, "I also loved how their advertisement have no shirt on it, being a shirt store."

He nodded feverishly, "You'd think they would change after 20 years of complaint by the public. But nope, whether you like it or not, it's their logo now. They want people like you should apply to be their model; I heard they pay well."

"I'm not selling my hot stuff," I replied, lifting my shirt just a little to expose my last two abs. "They want this? Too bad. It's saved for someone special." Joseph chuckled a genuine laughter, sending this unbearable warm feeling down my spine. Oh, Joseph... the things I would do to you...

And did he just drool? One clear salvia dripped to the ground, and he doesn't even realize it because he's still laughing.

We weren't that far from the store itself, its black tropical window design decorated its exterior. I can smell their toxic chemical perfume from here already. IT smells nice, I know. But too much of it gives off this overwhelming scent of discomfort. Okay, Thomas. 15 minutes, after Joseph buys his stuff, and you are out of here.

"Yes! I found it," Joseph exclaimed happily as he rushed over to the shirts hanging on the wall. "Dude, I gotta get this." The Asian human grabbed his size like a child grabbing his toy, so eager, yet so cute. To me, it's no more than a hoodie, navy blue with the logo typed down the sleeves. "Hey, let me try this on."

I quirk one eyebrow at his adorable face, "It's a hoodie. You can try it on right now, why go to the fitting room?"

He considered that idea for a moment, before he shook his head with zeal. "I'm going to get changed. You should pick something, too." With that, he left his bag in my care, "here, take this for me, please," and rushed off to the clerk. Of all the staffs to ask, he chose the nicely dressed horse, who smiled and offered to open a door to a room.

I'm pretty sure he's not into girls. In fact, I know it. The way he quivers at my words when he talked to me, the way he bit his lips when I pressed my hands on his shoulder, the way he looked at me with those narrow, but tender eyes. I'm usually wrong on this type of stuff, but Joseph... heh... you can read his face like you can read the large caption on a newspaper.

Still don't believe me?

Lemme prove it to ya.

I grabbed a random blue jean, careful to grab a size smaller than what I usually wear, but would still fit over me. You'd probably know what I'm going to do, don't you? Well... let's put it in motion, then.

"Joseph," I called out when I reach the rows of fitting rooms, "Joseph?"

"Yeah, I'm here." The sound came from the last of the fitting rooms, his voice barely audible over the store's blaring music. " 'Sup?"

"I needed to try something on, too. Are you done? I can just use your room instead of calling the guy again. And I need your opinion on this one." I walked in front of the door, knocking it gently, "come out and lemme try my stuff on."

"What did you get?" Joseph asked, stepping out of the dressing room, "Don't tell me you got the same thing I've got."

"A pair of jeans. They don't look so bad on the shelf. But you know how some of these make your legs all phony and creepy and shit? Well, I'm don't have a good eye for this type of stuff, so can you help me?" I began to unbuckle my belt, kicking my shoes off swiftly while I strip down to only my good lil' briefs. It hugs the furs on my legs tightly, and the bulge between them is something I know Joseph can't ignore.

If he is gay, that is.

Facing him, the conversation continues as I observe his surprised mood swing from a normal to tense state. This is why I think I'm falling for him; his face never tries to tell you lies. "But yeah, usually, the jeans I buy are either too frickin' loose, or too obnoxiously tight. My balls felt like they are scrunched up in a ball strap, or they're dangling around as if I was going commando. And they look funny too. But that's... not the point." He just stared at me (when I say 'me', I mean... you know what), eyes wide with shock. He bit his lips again as he looked down at my crotch, which I interpret as the withholding of temptations. He face painted red again as he looked away, lips slightly curled upward in loving sentiment.

Bingo.

Houston, we have a man-lover here.

Normally, a guy with homophobia would view this with disgust. Disgust, an emotion with a very common facial impression, is characterized by the frown in between the eyes, the wrinkling of nose, and the tension on the lower jaw. If the guy is not homophobic, but still heterosexual, then at the very least, he'll have a combination of a quick rise in his eyebrows and a short drop of his jaw: a casual surprised emotion. Joseph, however, did show a bit of a shock, but there's more to him. He has the expression of concealed happiness towards the end as he looks down. See that? That little up-crescent of his lips? Ain't that the stuff you get from flirting with someone?

"So how'd it look?" Putting on the sexiest grin I can muster, I tilt my head upward in confidence.

I am sure I'm irresistible at the moment.

He glanced at me, trying to keep his eye level above my waist. "You should get it. It looks great on you," he spoke in a cheerless manner as he sighed, looking back down to the floor. "I'll never look good in that." Joseph stated in his melancholic tone. What? Did I say something? I'm sure it's just something on my face.

I thought of ever possible reason he might have displayed a false sense of defeat. Did I give him the impression that I am comparing myself to him? I'm sure I didn't. Did I insult him without knowing that I did? I don't think so, I was careful of what to say. "Joseph," I asked after a few delayed seconds, "you okay?"

Joseph looked back up, his face concealing the depressed face with a forced smile. "I'm... fine. It's just... its... nothing big, really." He adjusted his white cap again, "I just... I don't think we should go to the gym together again."

Right now, I could really care less if Zeus struck me down with his divine thunderbolts. "Why not?" I asked, my worry, and perhaps anger, rise with each coming second.

"Well... the truth is... I don't think... I can keep up with you in the workouts," Joseph finally blurted, his hands clutching the new hoodie. "You should definitely get a better... partner; I'd only drag you down." His eyes gaze at the floor once more, a thwarting look painted his face. He leaned against the wall, and I set my own weight on the doorframe. "It's not even about the workout, actually. It's... It's not a good idea... for us to hang out."

I can't think of anything to say now, as if my heart were mercilessly stabbed when I heard him. Yes, it really hurts to see this boy upset about something that is already coming in action. It disturbed me further to know that he pulled out the contrast between us, how he thought that we were meant to be. He thought... that he doesn't deserve all this, do you not, Joseph?

What do I say? My true feelings? I'll scare him away like a squirrel seeing a vehicle.

It's worth a shot, though.

"You know," I started, changing out of my clothes again, knowing that he might not even dare to glance in my direction. "Some people deserve the best; the good car, the finest jewelries, or the fancy trip to Las Vegas. Some people deserve crap; the junkyard job, three meals of fast food, or... I dunno, getting toppled over by a sumo guy in a wrestling match. I have seen both of these people, and I know where you put yourself at." I threw the blue jeans aside and grabbed for my shorts, "Yeah, sometimes life throws the biggest crap at us. Parents fighting, bad physical abilities, or a bad boss that gives you the worst shift every week. But remember this, Joseph: you deserve crap only if you take that crap."

Well, that drew his attention as he pulled his head up. I continued with the next breath I took in, "Remember, again, that you are the ultimate man with the choice about what actions you take, and what you don't take. A friend of yours might have a great fight over a small misunderstanding, but it's you who can take charge and apologize or declare him or her your nemesis. You may very likely find yourself imbedded in an act of crime, but it's up to you to report that crime or not. You may find yourself in front of a very attractive tiger, and..." I smirked at him, seeing him a little less unhappier, "and... you can decide whether you want to be his friend... or not."

Joseph looked into my eyes once more, with those eyes shining with hope and strong-will once more. "Now that's the waiter I saw yesterday," I chuckled, gathering my stuff. "Come on, I'll take you home."

Poor little guy still doesn't know that I was hittin' on him all day...

* * *

"Turn right after this street. My house is the fourth on the right," Joseph said, pointing onto the street.

"Okie," I replied, pushing the gas pedal a bit more. "So would your dad be at your place now?"

"Nah, he's... turn here. He's out of town; he texted me this morning about some job offer he got in Oregon, and will be back on Monday or Tuesday." He looks out his passenger window, thoughtlessly taking in the views of his neighborhood. The house conditions of this place tells numerous things about the residents here. The untended exteriors and lawn bestowed this hostile personality to the people who resides here. Dandelions and moss populated the garden, and peeling paint decorated the short houses with their board-up windows. The suppressed, the maltreated, the neglected, the social outcasts are just a few things I would use to describe the people that live here.

This is the crap Joseph have to face every day? Fuck, my fur stand on their ends by just passing by this slum.

"Here it is," Joseph remarked, "you can drive into the driveway, if you want."

"Don't mind if I do; I want some water, if it isn't too inconvenient." I pulled onto the concrete, and surveyed his home. He did a pretty decent job taking care of his lawn; the concrete's not in the best shape, but you can see that he regularly pull the weeds out of the cracks. The grass is a little longer than its suppose to be, but compared to his neighbors, this lawn is in a great condition.

Joseph smiled, "Yeah sure." He walked up a few staircases that led to the front door. "I hope you won't mind the mess, though. I haven't got that much cleaning done as I'd liked. I planned on cleaning this afternoon..."

"But I showed up... yeah yeah yeah, save the crap." I pronounced dryly, lagging behind by a few steps, "I've roomed at the U. Nothing can beat that."

"Really? I'm sure it's just a matter of finding room to put your stuff," he reaches for his key, "Don't be surprised if you find it out of your expectation. I did warn you." His eyes help his hand coordinate to find the right key, and pushed it into the keyhole. He glanced up before he turned the doorknob, "Well, welcome to my home." He scraped his shoe first before stepping into his dwelling, reaching for the nearest light that is located behind the door. I sucked in a deep breath...

I ducked my head below the doorframe, watching his captivating smile while he steps out of his sneakers as I smiled in return. I anticipated a sneeze, a thing I do whenever I enter a room. Either it's the detergent used to wipe the floor, or it's the dust, grum, mold in the air. But my nose... doesn't itch at all. In fact, I was quite delighted to find that the house is filled with a scent of fresh fruits. Must've came from the kitchen, I assumed. "Not bad, Joseph." I scanned the corridor, the blue paint on the wall projecting a green color in the yellow light. I'm not lying when I said that, noticing how Joseph took real good care of this place he lives at. "And you managed the house all by yourself? It's pretty neat"

"Kinda," Joseph hollered from the kitchen, "Hey, make yourself at home. Do come in." As I enter into the brightly lit kitchen, I saw Joseph reaching into the cabinets, grabbing the glass mug and filling it with water. "Sorry about the chaos you're seeing..."

"You are really too self-conscious about yourself," I laughed, gulping down my water. "Trust me, you do a better job than my mom does."

"I'm... flattered?" Joseph chuckled, taking the empty glass from me. Again, his face reddens, a small smile on his lips as he take in my complements.

Fuck. I can't hold myself back anymore. I've been waiting for the right moment, and there's no word to describe my eagerness to pour my overwhelming feelings onto this fragile boy. The boiling passion within me has reached its fullest potential; It's time to take action. "You know," I started, "you look really cute when you smile like that."

I bet you didn't see that coming your way, did ya? Your eyes widen with shock, as if I had two heads growing out from my back. "You... said what?" Joseph asked, stammering his words out.

"You heard me, silly. They way you smile just... I dunno." Somehow, I was at a lost of words. Fuck, this never happened before. "It's a smile that can wash any guy's... or anyone's trouble away. It's a smile that someone can come home... looking forward to see." My ears flattened against my skull, shocked that for the first time, I was shy to admit to you my true feelings. I couldn't look at you without the fear that you just might reject me.

"It's... kinda late..." You added suddenly, as if you were denying my way into your heart. "I think you should really get going." You turned your back to me as you marched for the front door.

"Prehaps I should." I followed you to the front, looking down at the laminate floor as I see you opening the door. What did I do wrong? I was so sure that... wait....

Wait a minute...

You're waiting for me to ask you out. Most likely is that you are too shy to admit that you like me. Or, it may be that you aren't as devilish as I thought you are, and that you are just afraid that I couldn't be your lover, your guardian, your... mate? It's too early to say, but I'm not afraid to look into that. You were afraid of ten bazillion things that can happen to you and me, as oppose to trying me out and asking.

Oh, Joseph - you passive little asshole.

"I had a great time today, but..." You spoke with that half smile, pulling the door knob politely. "You know, we shouldn't..."

"You should always end your date with a kiss." I boldly stated, putting my paw over Joseph's hand as I shut the door gently.

His face lit up with surprise, retreating your quivering hands and backing slowly away from me. "wha...what?"

"I said, You should always end... your date... With... A kiss." I spoke more sternly, each word matched with each step I take closer to him. His leg gave way, and he leaned fearfully onto the wall for support. "You know, when I saw you the first night... I thought you were someone special. Your charming smile, your kind voice... the a very, very nice person you are. And... I think I kinda have a thing for nice people like you. I thought I had to be the one who had to bear all the trouble of hiding my true, strong feelings I have for you. I thought that you didn't feel the same way. Until..."

I close the space between us as he was forced into a corner, "Tom...." He begged, flattening against the wall. His hand gripped his pants tightly as I invaded into the remaining gap between us. "I .... I don't think...this..."

"Until I saw you looking at me the way you did today," cutting him off efficiently. "At first I thought you were just curious about my body like any other guy, but then you put your pretty little eyes on me a few more times, and really, I can't ignore them after that," I let my legs brush against his crotch, which I know probably felt extremely painful for him to withstand my warm massage. "I couldn't say I was surprised. You left your straying eyes just a little too long on us big fellas, so of course you... aroused... my interest. It was so obvious that you were into guys like us. But that's okay," I cooed playfully, putting my hands on the wall of either side of his body, "I think I can make your dirty lil' dream come true. I can show you how it really feels to be taken care of by a big, handsome gentleman like myself." I leaned my head into the neck of the frightened child and took in the exquisite scent he offered. His alluring scent smelled of crushed pine leaves, mixed with ancient spice that fueled my erection against the shorts. He shivered at my daring actions, pressing his head flat against the wall. Joseph held his quivering breath while my muzzle travelled down his neckline, kissing the warm skin with a soft, tender smoosh at the end of each contact.

"I like you, really. I really... really like that cute little face of yours every time you blush. OH yes, you blushed so often, and it's just so adorable just to look at it... make me imagine you under me, face red for an entirely different reason." I let my hand slither underneath his shirt to feel his slim stomach, receiving a gasp of anticipation while I lightly pinched the skin. His eyes flutter as I searched with them for those sparks of love they held just a moment ago. "I bet you probably dreamed about me last night, didn't you? You probably imagined me doing these... things to you that you've always wanted a big, lustful fur like me to do to you..." He shuddered and licked his lips while I bent down took a experimental nip at his collarbone. He moaned, oh... so ever full of passively and lovingly. "I did think of you too, my dear, I did too. It's nothing to be ashamed of this... attraction... we share for one another. Just be a nice little puppy and let me take you out tomorrow." I looked into his eyes, pressing my hard on against this abdomen to show how serious I am getting into. "In another words... "

I pressed my forehead against his, looking into his brown eyes as he does the same to my sapphire eyes. "Do I have the honor of asking you out again?"

"Y... I think..." His voice trailed off as our gaze met again, his dark brown eyes glittering with love and hope as his genuine smile broadens.

From there, I couldn't resist. I brought my muzzle closer to his lips.

I pecked his mouth, feeling his semi-dry lips against my maw. I drew back, looking into his passionate eyes in search for the permission to proceed. He had his eyes closed, savoring each moment of our first encounter of love and physical bonding. I pecked the red flesh again, this time, I tilted my head a bit to get a better angle. The third peck, and I let my paw slide behind his head and pressed our mouth together. He moaned blissfully, and I do the same to tell him just how much I am enjoying this sensation. His hands reached for my face, lightly setting his finger pads on the furry surface. Waves of euphoria and warmth wash over ever y inch of my body, making me murr lightly in response to the pleasure I gained from him.

At the moment, nothing in the world matters to me but this young soul in front of me. Time seemed detached from our world as my jaws opened, licking his lips and sampling his salty red rim. I wouldn't force my tongue into him - not yet - I don't want to be that aggressive with this romantic relationship. I pulled out from our soft connection with a slow, pleasant lick on his nose.

"Do you have work tomorrow?" I asked, my hands reach up to caress that beautiful face of his. Joseph shook his head shyly, a shameful smile danced on your face. "Okay, Joseph. Can I come over then? I can take you to the beachside if it's sunny..."

You nodded feverously.

---

end of chapter 2.

Alright... No more promises.... cuz i suck at keeping them....

But since i have Finals SOON....

Won't even Touch this until after first week of june.

that's it, i guess.... I'll see y'all around

Hase