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I met an angel with a sawed-off shotgun, wanted by the FBI...

Brayden layed out on the hood of his chauffeur's beat-up Honda Accord. It was a benefit of fur, shielding his flesh from the hot surface without need of a shirt. The air was dry, and it stung his nose when he breathed. The sun felt as though it were close enough to touch, like it was staring down at him personally. A pair of sunglasses that the young lion had found on the roadside were able to help with that at least, though only barely. His foot bobbed to the beat of whatever was playing on the stereo inside the car, a worn sandal clinging to his toes for dear life. He didn't recognize the song, but it had a good beat and that was enough.

"Yo, off the fuckin' hood, just had it washed."

The lion turned his head, seeing a dark-colored canine in cargo shorts and a tank top walking his way, a plastic bag in one hand and a box atop his other shoulder. That shirt would have been form-fitting if the dog, some hairless breed with a species name too long for Brayden to remember, had any form for it to fit to.

Brayden laughed, sliding forward until his feet hit the dirt of what passed for the gas station's parking lot. "You expect me to believe that, Eli?"

The dog snorted, shifting the beer case on his shoulder to the roof of the car so he could pop the door open and climb in. "Yeah well, you leave streaks on my shit and we're gonna get pulled over."

Both of them laughed. As if they were really worried about the police.

The journey resumed. Brayden pulled his phone out of his pocket, popping the cable from its headphone jack into the car's stereo so he could play shotgun DJ for a while. It took him long enough to settle on a playlist that it earned a few snide remarks from the older male beside him, and maybe that was on purpose. He liked seeing Eli get irritated. He liked that glare.

Finally, though, Brayden picked a mix of favorite road trip songs. Typical thumping rock tracks, easy to sing along to, though neither of them joined in with the artists as they belted out the famous hooks, nor join in on air guitars. Truth be told, the music mostly served to keep something to fill the silence. Brayden let the back of his seat flatten out as far as it could go and reached back, pulling a can from the box and popping the tab.

Eli snickered, less concerned about getting pulled over than he seemed before. "You even old enough to drink?"

Brayden glanced back at him, and rolled his eyes as he took a sip. "Pretty sure I ain't old enough for anything we did today."

The drive was quiet between them, but it wasn't an icy silence. Brayden and Eli just weren't much for idle chatter. That was part of why the lion was so fond of his new friend. They didn't need to force conversation. The day they met they hardly spoke at all. A late night smoking weed in a spot in the local park, watching the town shuffle and mill about in the distance, that was enough.

Hell, Brayden didn't even catch Eli's name for another week, and that was just because he needed something to punch in his phone with the dog's number.

The lion finished off his beer quickly, needing that first buzz to hit quickly before he could just sit and coast with one, and tossed the can on the floor behind him before grabbing another.

"You want one?"

Eli shook his head. "I'm set. Just don't drain the whole case, aight?"

Brayden laughed dryly. "Course, you musta spent five whole bucks on this shit, don't wanna hog the whole thing."

Eli glanced sidelong at him. He was trying to be stern, and his voice had a menacing edge to it, but there was a grin pulling at the corner of his sleek muzzle as well. "Mouthy li'l ashtray, ain't ya?"

Brayden swallowed, sheepish. He glanced down at his shoulder, and the patch of scarred flesh and missing fur there. Memories of that first night they had sex came instantly to mind. He could see it clearly. Hear it. Smell it.

"If I took this cigarette, and put it out on you..." Eli had asked, the pair of them hazed out from afterglow and pills. "...would you love me?"

As it turned out, he would.

We dropped some acid, killed our parents, then we hit the road...

Miles of open highway stretched out in front of the two, the hum of the car beneath them easily felt but the noise less audible thanks to some old rock band singing about how great it was to be in a rock band. Brayden slid his seat back to get enough space to prop his feet up. Between the wind in his mane and the alcohol beginning to seep its way into his veins, plus the day's excitement, the young lion was feeling ready for a nap.

"Fuck-ing hell you cats sleep a lot," Eli jabbed in that way he did, sitting perfectly between playful and cutting.

Brayden pawed at his friend's shoulder, giving him a push. "Just restin' up in case ya want me to take the wheel later."

That got a laugh from the dog. "Let you drive my baby? I wouldn't let you drive a fuckin' golf cart."

Brayden laughed, too. "Hey, I get points for makin' the offer."

He checked his phone. More text messages. A few missed calls. He grinned darkly, thinking to himself how funny it was. After years of pretending he didn't exist, suddenly everyone was so interested in getting in touch with him. Now it was his turn to ignore them.

It had been easier than he thought it would be. Eli was right. After the first bang, he didn't hear anything else. Not even the screaming.

Brayden yawned, letting his phone drop down on his bare-furred belly, not reading any of the messages left for him. He didn't care what they had to say. It was hard to believe how much life had changed since he met Eli. Nearly two decades on this Earth and all it took was one week to turn him into a whole new lion.

He didn't know where they were heading, and he knew they were never going back, but that was okay. He'd already been dead for years. Now it was just time to make it official.