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The eighteen year old leopard knew this for certain: the muscular jaguar entering the pool would be his first. Two distinct advantages gave him that sort of confidence. The jaguar was white, like ice; and his gaydar was more developed than a bear's sense of smell.

Of course his father wouldn't approve. Oh, Mr. Pardus knew about his youngest son's sexual preference. In fact, Tray told him over dinner one night as casual as relaying a good report card. Tray had wondered if other kids really had it as bad as he'd seen on talk shows, or read in stories or online forums: that innate fear of coming out, of rejection, of how the future could change for the worse once everyone knew. He must've been lucky. His father's younger brother-Tray's Uncle Leroy-by one year was as gay as they came and Mr. Pardus recounted to his three kids the high school days getting beat up or doing the beating up in his defense. That day at dinner, Mr. Pardus made it a point to Tray not to come out to any of the kids at school. Wait til afterward, perhaps during college. Teenagers were just too immature; homophobia, he promised, was less severe after high school. Nowadays, people were more accepting. But just wait.

Too bad for Uncle Leroy. It's hard hiding one's homosexuality with an effemenate voice and a gait like a catwalk model. Leroy, by fault and by virtue, was a flamer and made no point to hide who he was. Fortunately for Tray, he hid his same-sex interest well without much effort. But, damn-that jaguar may prove to be his Achilles heel.

It could've been the sleek fur all taught on his firm, developed body. He was definitely bigger than any of the kids that lifted weights as religiously as a bishop prays. It might've been the beautiful robustness of his round head, the powerful jaw that distinguished himself as a jaguar. The heavy bulge of his sky-blue swim briefs definitely played a big part; but all in all, Tray decided it was the color. The alibinoism that affected so few of them meant that the gorgeous jaguar, who was now swimming laps, was a rare prize indeed. And it meant that Tray was no longer the only albino student of the school.

Friday meant it was a free day: do laps, dive, sit at the shallow end and talk. As long as no one pissed in the pool the class was fine to do as they pleased. Tray had time to conjure up a game plan, but he'd have to act fast; the class lasted only 90 minutes and he didn't want to wait another two weeks (alternating A-day and B-day classes and a five-day school week meant a Free Friday for his swimming class came biweekly) to really get the jaguar's attention.

The room reverberated with the din of students. It was replete with shouts and splashes, the resonance of the diving board, the occasional whistle from the coach. Tray's eyes already stung from the pool's chemicals that gave it its unnatural blue color, the smell reminding him of his pool back home where he learned how to be a good swimmer. But all he could think of right now was the jaguar slicing through the water in a clean forward crawl, approaching his side of the pool. The leopard launched himself and soon collided with the big cat like cars in a broadside collision.

"Oh, sorry, sorry," said Tray after they both regained composure. "Wasn't looking."

The jaguar rubbed his shoulder where he'd been hit. "Sorry," he echoed, dryly. But then he smiled. "Hey, looks like I'm not the only one."

Tray knew it was their white fur he was referencing. His plan was working.

"Ah, so it seems!" Tray looked both of them over in a convincing display of surprise. "Don't think I've seen you before. You new?"

"Yeah, just started yesterday. Last high school didn't have a pool and I love to swim. Glad to see you guys have one here. A big one at that!"

A big one's precisely what I'm thinking, Tray thought, hoping to cop a feel of the jaguar. The thought sent a charge to his crotch.

"Are there any other's like us here?" the jaguar interjected, thoughts of his cock dissipating into the wet air.

"You're the first I've seen here other than myself. Name's Tray, by the way."

"Go."

Uh, where? Tray instinctively thought until he realized, with the Jaguar's paw outstretched for a handshake, that that was his name.

"Go?" Tray shook his paw, noting the balance between noodle-grip and OH-GOD-I'M-NOT-A-DYNAMOMETER.

"Yeah, it weirds everyone out at first. That's how my parents met-some sort of boardgame night. Guess what game they played?"

"And you were their lovechild after he captured her stones?"

"She won, actually. Chose white because she always lost with the black pieces. But yeah-you get the picture!" Go laughed and Tray laughed too, and upon closer look, he noticed the rosettes on the jaguar's fur. Extremely faded, but they were there. If he were a Go board, the white stones would've been smothering black. Tray wondered if that's how game night turned out, the jaguar's mother obliterating his father at the game, no sweat. Poetic how Go was born an albino to signify which color won.

The rest of the class went by quickly and, to Tray's relief, Go stuck around to chat. They ended up exhibiting their best stunts off the diving board, contesting each other on who could hold their breath the longest underwater, or showing off biceps (to Tray's request, of course). Fun stuff kids always do. Laughs were plenty and Tray was happy that Go had a nice personality to match his body. But the whole time he couldn't read him. Sometimes there would be a glint in the jaguar's eye, a coy grin that hinted at something underneath, but the leopard wasn't sure if this was just wishful thinking. Regardless, he refused to conclude so soon that he was straight. At least they could be close, as new friends. That was good enough for now.

* * *

The leopard and jaguar duo parted to their separate classes. Tray had calculus. Go had history. Go left with a big smile, a friendly wave, and pep to his step-probably because he had made a new friend so soon. But Tray was disappointed. He had showered next to the buff felid for good reason, but Go had kept his swim briefs on during the shower and changed into his boxers with the towel wrapped around his waist. Tray's opportunity to peek had been spoiled by diffidence. Like the jaguar had any reason to be shy-he was huge down below (although he gave it some thought, Tray highly doubted it was a tube sock stuffed in those Speedos) and had the physique that would soon be the envy of the entire football team. Heck, Tray's dick was average-sized and he had some pudge around the middle, but didn't care about that in the showers any more than most of the other boys did. He made it a point to ask about that next time he saw him-it was too much of a shame to let all that hotness go to waste.

The rest of the school day went by slow, his mind criss-crossing with refractions of Go's image. Despite his disappointment in the showers, he had a hard on that refused to relent. As one of the top students of the class, it was awkward traipsing to the chalkboard when called upon to work with Leibniz's notation, and even more difficult concentrating on all the numbers when you had a boner in full view of the class. Back at his desk, the teacher's disappointment weighing heavily on his shoulders, he hoped the few snickers he heard weren't because of you-know-what.

Home again, Tray dumped his backpack right at the door and headed straight to his Dad's office where the community computer usually lay in sleep mode, pictures of his family members with smiles that always looked goofy no matter what adorning the desk. He needed to jerk off. A good website was in mind and now was the time since his Dad was out, probably shopping for groceries or running some errand. Opening the door, he nearly gasped.

"What up, fag?"

Instead of a gasp, Tray groaned. "What are you doing here, Daniel? Don't you have child support checks to write out?"

Daniel was Tray's oldest brother, fully decked in regular leopard colors, and had the goofiest grin of them all. He'd made a successful career in real estate and getting the ladies knocked up. Tray was an uncle to three kids he'd only met once apiece. He wasn't proud, to say the least, of his growing collection of nephews and nieces who survived through greedy women looking to take advantage of a free monthly paycheck.

"Hey, now-let's not get into that for one second," Daniel said, fiddling with his whiskers with one paw as the mouse clicked musically in the other. He liked to visit every now and again, check up on Dad and-Tray liked to think-his youngest brother. "How's school?"

"Met a guy I liked."

"Uh, oh... you know what Dad said. He gave the lecture to all of us for 'just in case' even though we all knew you were the gay one for coming out the color of semen."

"Well, that's my problem. Besides, I didn't tell him I like him."

"It sounds like you might." Daniel clicked on a link and a well-dressed tigress posing in front of a gorgeous home popped onscreen, fake smiles and all. Real estate stuff, Tray guessed.

"Thinking about it, to be honest. I'm a senior now and there's only half a school year left. What's the worst that could happen?"

Daniel snickered and scratched at the long scar on his arm. Three years ago he tried out Ship's Mast, which involved hanging onto the hood of a high speeding car with only two belts as support; and somehow he convinced Tray to drive with only a learner's permit. Dumb shit, he knew, but it was a good idea at the time and everyone else was doing it 'cause of the grindhouse movie. Of course Tray ended up losing control of the vehicle. The rest was history... and one good hospitable trip. The scar was a memento."Worse things than high school homo-drama, that's for sure." Daniel looked at his brother. "Just go for it, dude. If you think he likes you, don't wait til graduation when you'll lose touch with everybody like I did. And if he ends up being straight, the worse thing you can get is a black eye. Worth a shot."

Tray covered an eye with a paw at the thought. A punch to the face by some buff dude didn't sound too pleasant. But a possible handjob did. Decisions, decisions.

"Thanks for the brotherly advice."

* * *

The weekend came and went as they all did, like bad boyfriends. And over the next couple school days, Tray discovered that he had the same lunch schedule as Go. Found him in the corner of the cafeteria on a bench by the garbage cans, trash overflowing onto the glassy floor from the previous lunch hour. Even though Go was surrounded by students, their conversations all mangled up into one homogenous roar, he was alone, quietly eating a sandwhich.

"Got enough meat between those buns?" Tray thought it was funny.

"It's ciabatta," the jaguar corrected, grinning. "And yes. They feed you guys well here."

After he finished, Go placed the paper food tray neatly on the garbage pile and they went outside where warm, quiet air greeted them. It was the location of the school, Tray explained. They were in a wealthier district. Go's old school was near-dilapidated, Tray learned, and his parent's had decided that enough was enough, found a better job, and moved here. His younger sister would be attending this high school the following school year, after middle school and after Go graduated.

"Did you leave a lot of friends behind?" The sidewalk was shaded by several giant oaks and everything smelled fresh. Tray kicked a stone. A teacher walking by gave him a look as if to say "Don't do that." He apologized.

Go gave another one of his coy smiles, his pearly whites thinly visible this time. "I wouldn't say that. I don't mind moving really. It wasn't a very friendly school, to say the least." The jaguar walked into a patch of sunlight piercing through the foliage, and for an instant Go looked angelic.

"Don't do much of the friend-thing here, either." A brief moment passed and finally Tray had to ask: "Why did you shower with your briefs on Friday? You shy?"

Another coy grin. He looked cute, innocent almost. "Let's just say I'm no Broadway star looking for an audience."

"You kidding me? How big are you?" The question slipped and Tray immediately felt awkward.

"Ten inches," the jaguar replied, calmly and without hesitation, much to Tray's relief. "Hard, that is. I became quite the popular guy in my last school. Was on the wrestling team for a few weeks, but of course that didn't work out. Guys would joke with me constantly. Some would pick fights. And you wouldn't believe all the girls that would pester me about it once word got around."

"Is that the real reason why you left?"

The jaguar shrugged. "Sorta. But it really isn't a good school. My parents wanted something better for my sister. As for me, if I can get by the next few months and graduate without incident, it would be ending my high school days on a high note."

The conversation perked up for the rest of the lunch period. They ended up talking about video games and whether or not cheerleading could be considered a sport. Tray mentioned the girls on their team and to his favor Go didn't seem too interested. Tray's tail began to curl around his own leg, which always happened when he was in a good mood. They ended up comparing rosettes, analyzing each other's like scientists as they were difficult to see due to the albinoism. But the rosettes were there, just like Go was there and Tray was there, something hazy forming between them that the leopard could only hope would deepen into something meaningful. But Tray still wasn't sure about Go; he'd have to up the ante and ask more revealing questions. Sometimes to catch bigger fish, you have to trawl the deeper ends. All in due time, he supposed.

Then the bell gave its shrill, decisive call.

* * *

Free Friday again. The past two weeks slid by. Tray and Go's friendship grew strong quickly as they got to know one another every morning before school started and during lunch. It was almost as if they'd been friends for years. They had formed their own unique team, their albino condition strengthening their bond. It was just the two of them. No one else there had what they had.

The water was warm and it was this day Tray had been waiting for. Swimming class over the past week consisted of doing laps and learning the butterfly stroke and there wasn't any time for personal interaction. Instead, he used that time to plan what he wanted to say when friday finally came. And each day Go continued to shower with briefs on and change into his boxers with a towel wrapped around his waist. A couple of the haughtier students were already noticing, snickering rude comments to each other as the lockers clanged open and shut around them, saying the new kid's dick was probably as small as a Vienna sausage and other such trite commentary.

They were floating in the deep end, the jaguar relaxed at the corner of the pool, arms holding him afloat on the edges, his broad chest opened proudly above the water, big as his smile, their classmates jumping off the diving board close by one by one, or hovering by the edge and diving in, all with big splashes. The noise made it hard to concentrate and Tray wondered if he really wanted to go through with it-risk a fast forming friendship for a more intimate relationship that may never come to fruition. But it was all too perfect and he began to think Go was sent as some karmic reward for his good behavior all these years, going by in life without being noticed, without riling up anyone's feathers. His head said to play it safe and take his time-they'd likely remain close even after graduation; but his heart-that goddamned beating thing that hammered out its demands in quickening intervals-said to go for it.

"Go," he said, his voice almost quavering over this one syllable. The jaguar's ears perked up and he almost decided to ask something else. They'd been laughing over a dumb joke and already made plans to hang out for the first time at Tray's house, turn on the Playstation or watch a movie. Perhaps that wouldn't happen now: "Are you gay?"

"No," he replied, a little too fast, his face becoming solemn, too serious. Tray caught on to this.

"Go," Tray said again, "it's okay. Hell, I'm gay and I'm only asking 'cause I like you." Tray had decided to forgo any conversational chicanery. Blunt and honest was the game plan. But his heart was pounding so hard he wondered if that's what a heart attack felt like.

The jaguar just looked at him, yellow eyes focused, his muzzle absurdly still, like people in photographs. Nothing.

"Cause you see," Tray continued, worried that everything was backfiring, Go's silence becoming invasive, "I'm usually good at telling if someone's gay or not-you know, at least bicurious. See the fat raccoon on the diving board right now? Totally gay. In fact, he's the only gay kid here except me and-"

"And hopefully me?"

The leopard gulped, bit his lower lip. He wondered if the jaguar was in the same situation as he was, having to keep his homosexuality a secret to graduate high school unscathed. Tray had deducted that there was something Go wasn't telling him in regards to leaving his old high school. Who admits their dick size without reservation, and spills their guts about the trouble its brought without it being about something a little more?

"I don't know-well, yes. But there's just something about you: the way you smile, the way you talk."

"And you think I'm gay because I smile a certain way?" The jaguar asked this in that calm voice of his, without hositilty, and Tray noticed Go hadn't shifted position at all.

"Wishful thinking, I suppose." The leopard swam closer, risking this only because most kids would've been more defensive by now or angry. The jaguar barely even moved. Body language still said open and perhaps there was something Go wasn't telling him that his body couldn't help but scream. Still wishful thinking. Maybe.

The jaguar just looked at him without another word and Tray almost forgot where they were; the noises of the water, the students all became lost in the background of this moment. Go was within reach and Tray found his paw wandering onto the jaguar's firm stomach, beneath the water so no one could see. The jaguar just looked, his chest rising and falling, his breaths more audible. In a private setting, Tray would've leaned in to lock lips with his. Instead, his paw wound its way to the bulge of the jaguar's crotch, stroking the outline of cock. "Please..." was all Go could mutter. Tray couldn't tell if it was a "Please continue" or a "Please stop." He decided to honor the former, slipping his paw beneath the briefs and taking hold of the hefty meat inside.

"Please," the jaguar repeated. "This was why I had to leave."

"I'll be discreet." The leopard didn't know what took over him, especially since the jaguar made it clear he was uncomfortable, not to mention that they were in class right now, with dozens of students around. Autopilot jarred on.

Go made no effort to physically stop Tray, who was stroking his dick slowly as if savoring its length, tugging it free from the confines of his briefs. It felt good. Really good, Tray could tell. The jaguar got rock hard faster than a Mormon chick gets pregnant and was fighting back moaning too loud. The fleshy-pink rod was visible through the rippling water and Tray had to balance looking around to make sure no one was close enough to see while staying comfortably afloat. The thickness felt incredible in his paw as he worked up and down before focusing on the glans that had swollen to the size of Baoding ball. He almost didn't notice that his own dick had stiffened up as well, pushing uncomfortably against his briefs. Tray would have to take care of his own problem later.

Go had closed his eyes, his breathing labored, his paws tensing in and out of fists. Pleasure rocketed through his body. The feeling was remarkably different, more instense when someone else was touching it. He couldn't believe what was happening and his mind tore between telling Tray to stop and allowing him to continue until he emptied his balls into the swimming pool.

"Tray," he whispered, wincing as another spike of pleasure tore into his spine and down his legs. He felt like Jell-O. "You'll need to stop. I'm gonna cum."

"That's the point." Tray grinned, twirling his grip around the sensitive glans, eliciting a moan from the hung jaguar.

"But we're in class..." The jaguar bit at his lower lip, growled lowly to God. Tray was working faster. Go was gonna pop. "Stop." Go took Tray's paw, his dick at its hardest state, the moment right before climax. His dick was going to spew-and it almost did-but he'd stopped the frisky leopard in time. He panted heavily, like the dogs.

"What are you two doing?" Coach Parker, the old bulldog who swam better than he looked, had appeared from the side; the two felines were too distracted to notice his approach. The jaguar unclasped Tray and did his best to hide his massive erection as the coach stood behind him, peering down.

"N-nothing," Tray replied as Go spun around, concealing his cock along the walls of the pool.

Parker glared. "Nothing's right. You two have been camping at this corner for half an hour. Do some laps or a belly flop off the diving board. Keep your body moving. Free Friday doesn't mean Faineant Friday."

"Yes, coach," Tray said as Parker left. The coach must've been in a bad mood today, but he thanked God he didn't catch them in the act. "How's your hard on?"

"It's gone," Go said.