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Roll Away Your Stone

Ruth groaned as the doorbell rang again, one of those long chiming tunes that his mother considered entrancing. Ode to Joy, an ironic tune, he thought, carried through the house and air and woke him, insisting that he move and rise. He stretched quietly as the melody continued, shivering as his joints popped and his limbs remembered that they were there.

The Great Dane sat up in bed, sighing as the metal frame creaked under his weight, and kicked his legs over the side--he'd apparently lost his blanket in the heat of the night, and it now lay in an unruly puddle under his feet. In the air-conditioned heat of the day, he pushed off of the mattress with a yawn as he lifted his arms toward the ceiling, clasping his paws in another stretch. He dug around, shifting his blanket about to search for his pajama pants before pulling them on without hurry.

The doorbell stopped as Ruth pulled up his pants and reached for his phone on the bedside table. He paused with his tall ears at attention as he listened to the sudden silence, debating who it might be at the door. In a town like Kelsey, where the vast majority of the community knew each other well, very few people would be coming to find his mother when she'd be at work an hour and a half's commute away. Just as few people would be looking for him, but he could name one or two, and they'd be familiar enough to know that he was rarely awake before 2 pm.

Indeed, after maybe half a minute, Beethoven's pride rang once more throughout the old two-story stone home. Ruth sighed as he confirmed that it was just past a quarter until two. Technically, he was up about half an hour earlier than usual, and though his mother likely wouldn't agree, that had to count for something.

Ruth grabbed a tank top from the back of his desk chair and snaked his arms through it as he set off to answer the door. He ambled through the house without hurry, drifting up the hallway that led from his bedroom to his mother's and veered past her door and into the den. He paused to open the blinds on the door to the deck that opened to the wide, freshly cut backyard, allowing the warm July sun to filter through the windows and set motes of dust alight.

By the time Ruth had descended the stairs and reached the front door, the doorbell had stopped and begun once more. He grasped the doorknob without sparing a peek through the blinds and pulled the door open, doing his best not to frown at the whistling wolfhound on the other side.

"Good morning, Ruth!" The wolfhound's greeting was cheery, and though Ruth couldn't see his eyes past the tinted goggles he knew to be prescription lensed, the alabaster canine's smile was toothy and genuine. He extended a paw to Ruth. "Do you mind if I come in?"

Ruth nodded his head quietly, taking the older man's paw in his own and giving it a firm shake. The older canine was, as usual, clad almost from head to toe in white; while Ruth supposed it did its job in protecting his sensitive skin from the sun, its efforts to assuage the July heat were probably unnoticed by the droopy-tailed man. He stepped aside to allow the wolfhound across the threshold and into the cool conditioning of his kitchen. "It's two in the afternoon, Jacob."

"Perhaps, but you just woke up." Jacob pulled off his trilby and began to fan it in front of his face, tongue lolling out as he panted; his pointed ears fell slack as they were freed from their confines. Despite the typically embarrassing position, he didn't seem bothered as he continued to smile up at Ruth. "Unless I caught you in the middle of working on a model?"

"No," Ruth answered, moving around his guest and past the kitchen counter that joined the wall behind the front door, into the kitchen proper. "I was asleep. Let me get you some water."

"It would be most appreciated," Jacob sighed when he was passed the sweating glass of ice water. "God bless you."

Ruth nodded, taking a seat at the counter, the marble cool beneath his paws. When he wasn't slouching, he was still an inch or two taller than Jacob while seated, something that he'd teased the wolfhound about endlessly during his growth spurt. Even now, the thought of it made Ruth's tail wave slowly between the bars of his seat. Jacob set aside his hat and tilted back his glass of water, steadily emptying it.

"So, what's up?" Ruth picked up the trilby, turning his attention to its black brim and matching band around the crown's base.

Jacob finished his water, setting the glass down with a careful clack. "Lilith asked me to check on you."

Ruth ran a claw lightly around the soft, woven felt hat, careful not to scratch the material. The white work of fabric contrasted with his dark fur in much the way it did itself: neat alabaster with accents of dark ink. He lifted his eyes to Jacob, finding that he was now removing his goggles. Like the rest of his wardrobe, the goggles complimented Jacob immaculately, their frames sheer metallic black with lenses that, now that he was indoors, were crystal clear. It often seemed to Ruth that 47 years of living with albinism was far from a struggle for Jacob, and rather more like an excuse to look his best.

"I told your mother that I'd take you out today, and that we'd talk." The older man rubbed at his eyes with the butt of his thumb. When he turned his oddly pale gaze on Ruth, his smile had evened out into something more serious. "It's been quite a while since we've really talked one-on-one. I thought we could go out, and I could take you for dinner, if you didn't mind it."

Ruth settled the trilby carefully between the flats of his palms, spinning it on its brim with a flick of his fingers. "I haven't showered."

"You can shower, I'm not in any rush. Lord knows I can use a break after my route today."

The black Dane nodded, returning the hat to its place on the countertop. Jacob reached for it quietly, gripping its crown tactfully as he dropped his arm, holding it on his thigh.

The pair made easy small talk as Jacob followed Ruth through the house and up to his bedroom, where the younger canine tacitly went about pulling pants and underwear from his dresser. The wolfhound took a seat at the desk, inspecting the several unfinished plastic models that stood carefully positioned upon it. Ruth left with a curt nod that Jacob returned with a smile.

Ruth made his shower brief in an attempt to keep from holding up Jacob's plans for too long. He dried quickly, thankful for his short fur, and made his way back to his bedroom after pulling on his pants.

"These are new," Jacob said, looking up from his phone. Although Ruth stood at his chest of drawers, facing away from the older man, the mirror mounted atop the dresser easily allowed the wolfhound to watch him pull on his shirt. "The models, I mean. When did you get them?"

"A couple of weeks ago." Ruth glanced into the mirror as he watched his guest point to the multicolored Plasti-Dam kits. "I haven't really been feeling up to finish them, though."

"Oh. You used to run through these so quickly." Though Jacob made no attempt to disguise the intent with which he watched Ruth, his expression never shifted.

When Ruth noticed Jacob's gaze, he quirked his lips in a rare smile as he lifted an arm to flex facetiously. Though low-brow, the bulge of his bicep in his bright blue tee-shirt had the intended effect: Jacob averted his gaze and raised his trilby, fanning his face dramatically.

"Hey now, put away the guns! We both know your mother doesn't approve of firearms in her house."

Ruth's grin widened, and he turned around. "Are you ready to go? Where are we going, anyway?"

Jacob shrugged as he stood, tail wagging, and pulled his goggles from the pocket of his pristine cargo shorts. "Well, I don't assume you've eaten; we can pick you up something small, since we ought not grab dinner before five...."

Ruth led the way from his bedroom, patting his pockets to ensure he'd grabbed his necessities. They exited the house, and Ruth locked it behind them, before trekking beneath the blazing afternoon sun towards Jacob's pale blue Cadillac convertible. They were, unfortunately, stopped by Ruth's neighbor calling a greeting to Jacob.

"Reverend Hadler!" Mrs. Atkins called, leaning against the weather-faded cyan fence that Ruth had painted two years ago. "Is that you I see? I hope you're not running off with Lilith's boy without saying hello!"

Jacob casually tossed the keys to Ruth before ambling over towards the fence, meeting the old red wolf with a charming smile. "Oh, it's me, Mrs. Atkins. I do hope you're doing well this afternoon."

"Oh, I'm blessed by the Best!"

Ruth grimaced only briefly before unlocking the passenger door of Jacob's gray-blue 1976 Cadillac convertible. He hastily started the stuffy car and started the air conditioning before settling in, resting his elbow on the window sill before pulling out his phone to check his messages. He read his mother's daily well-wishes and typed out a modest 'i love you' before explaining his dinner plans with Jacob.

That done, the Great Dane crossed his arms and waited. The interior of the vehicle, much like the exterior (and Jacob himself) was pristine. This wasn't a surprise to Ruth, who for several years had been paid to help Jacob wash the vehicle until he'd left for college. In fact, he remembered asking Jacob why the vehicle, unlike many of the wolfhound's other accessories, didn't complement his general wardrobe. When the wolfhound had explained that the forty-some-year-old model had been left in his name due to his father's will, Ruth had simply nodded, and furthermore never teased Jacob's fashion sense again. If he had a memento of his deceased father, he had to admit he'd likely cherish it to the same meticulous lengths.

Ruth watched Mrs. Atkins gesture emphatically as she talked, Jacob nodding his head as he listened. His phone buzzed with his mother's blessings, and he swiped the message away. Even with the conditioning blowing moderately cool air at him, Ruth was still quite warm, and was quickly growing bored. He turned on the radio, navigating away from the classic rock station and to the local mix station. Several songs passed, and his stomach began to growl.

Glancing out the window, Jacob seemed to be growing less enthusiastic to the loquacious Mrs. Atkins's storytelling, as evidenced by his drooping tail. Ruth puffed a gentle sigh as he took up his phone and fired off a text to the wolfhound's phone. The older man surreptitiously pulled his phone from his back pocket, and his tail immediately regained its vigorous waving when he glanced at it. Ruth watched as, after a moment, Jacob held up a paw and gestured to his car; he could imagine the excuses the reverend was coming up with held some semblance of the truth to them, but also left out his own eagerness to get going, if not specifically to leave the conversation itself.

In just a couple of moments, the driver side door opened and the wolfhound plopped himself down behind the wheel. He removed his trilby and sat it on his lap. "Hey there, hungry boy. What're you in the mood for?"

"I don't really mind. You said it'd have to be something small, yeah?"

"Preferably. Dinner is going to be nice." The car moved silently, and Jacob wrapped an arm around the back of Ruth's head cushion as he turned around to back out of the driveway. He kept it there even after he'd pulled out and started down the road.

"What are we doing for dinner?"

Jacob cocked his head in Ruth's direction as he pulled the car to a halt at a stop sign. Ruth couldn't see his eye through the tinted lenses, but the wolfhound had begun to crack a familiar smile. "That, my dear, is a surprise."

The pair cruised through town in relative silence, allowing the radio to entertain them. They stopped by McDonald's, where Ruth was treated to chicken nuggets and a caramel Frappuccino, and Jacob was once again stopped for a conversation. The wolfhound was quick to cut things short once they'd gotten their order, and they were soon on the road heading out of town.

Vehicles, billboards, and fields passed as Ruth sat quietly eating his late breakfast, careful not to spill too many crumbs. Every now and then Jacob would open his mouth as if to speak, frown, and then return his attention to the drive. Ruth was happy not to acknowledge these occurrences, and pulled out his phone in the hopes that becoming distracted would further dissuade the older man from initiating conversation.

This tactic proved effective for a song and a half, until the wolfhound reached a paw towards the knob of the volume and turned it down to zero. Jacob angled his head a minute degree towards the window before clearing his throat to speak.

"You're quiet, Ruth. I would hear you if something's on your mind."

"I'm always quiet," Ruth answered the familiar words. He locked his phone, lifting his eyes from the dark screen and to the sprawling road in front of the car.

"Fair, but you know what I mean. Your mother thinks you've been distant. You haven't been going out with friends." The wolfhound kept both paws on the wheel as he slowed, allowing a particularly insistent red sedan to pass. "You haven't been to church since you graduated."

"I mowed Mrs. Atkins's lawn last week." Ruth inhaled slowly, turning his head to watch Jacob; the wolfhound's ear was swiveled towards him. His mother and Jacob both had never forced him to go to church, and he was certain that the wolfhound was aware of that. That meant that Jacob had to also be aware that the separation between Ruth and the church meant separation from him--after all, texting him "I'm hungry" to save him from Mrs. Atkins was the first time Ruth had messaged him first in recent memory. "And I'm not being distant, I just have stuff on my mind."

"I don't imagine you consider Mrs. Atkins a close friend." Jacob let out a short chuckle, drumming a rhythm on the steering wheel with his fingers. "She was telling me about what a good job you did, actually. It's a shame there was so much rain over the weekend and it grew back so fast."

The wolfhound allowed the car to go quiet, a tactic that Ruth was familiar with from the guidance sessions he'd attended with the reverend eight years ago. The older dog hadn't acknowledged the other half of the statement, which of course meant that he was expecting an answer. Ruth knew that Jacob wouldn't push him to answer, and he wouldn't push him for details if he did. He slouched against the locked door, keeping his eyes on the other man.

"I've been thinking about coming out to Mom. I'll probably wind up moving out."

Again, Jacob's mouth opened and he closed it without saying anything. His ear swiveled about, and the bright afternoon sun set its pale fur aglow. "You're twenty-three, a grown man. You know I'll do what I can to help, right?"

Ruth nodded. "Anyway, how's work going?"

"I'm a mailman, Ruth. It's not like I'm curing cancer."

"People rely on you for things."

"Maybe so, but that's more an aspect of my reverential duties." He changed the topic with a wave of his paw. "What are you planning to do for work, though? I'd think someone with a bachelor's in engineering would be a hot find on the job market."

"A bachelors in engineering is like a bachelors in English, especially around here. Everyone's got one, but employers want experience."

"I suppose that's fair," Jacob responded. Traffic around them began to grow heavier, and he slowed the Cadillac in response. As the car eased to a halt at a red light several cars ahead of them, Jacob turned his head to look at Ruth. He smiled in a reassuring way, lifting a paw from the steering wheel before slowly patting Ruth's knee. Ruth eyed it.

"You're not going to be alone, Ruth. Your mom loves you. I--" Jacob paused, briefly tightening his grip on the Dane's knee before returning it to the steering wheel. "I think you're going to do great, and I'll talk with Lilith after you tell her."

Ruth swallowed hard and nodded. Traffic picked up again, and Jacob reached over to turn up the music again. The rest of the long drive into the city was uneventful, and Ruth enjoyed the bubbly pop tunes, as well as the pale glow of Jacob's fur in the lowering afternoon sun whenever he glanced. The insides of the older dog's ears glowed pink in the light from the window, and coupled with the halo-like glow of his white fur, Ruth could almost imagine the wolfhound to be a guardian angel.

Thanks to the delays of Mrs. Atkins, getting Ruth a small breakfast, and the natural inclinations of driving in metropolitan areas after five pm, they arrived at their destination at a quarter to six. Ruth stepped out of the car, stretching tall and releasing an enthusiastic yawn. The restaurant's sign read 'The Silver Steer' beneath a flexing bull's silver silhouette. Around the parking lot, many expensive-looking vehicles surrounded them, making Jacob's beige Cadillac look quite at home.

"As you can tell," Jacob said, plopping his trilby atop his head before leading the way towards the restaurant. "The Silver Steer is a pretty popular spot."

"I wasn't aware I was agreeing to a date." Ruth frowned. "You didn't get reservations, did you?"

Jacob turned around to glance at him, recognizing the disapproving tone of voice. His tail stilled in its casual wave. "I did. I thought it would be good to sit down at a nice place and enjoy one another's company for a while."

"I don't presume my mom knows how much money you're spending on me?"

"No." Jacob shook his head.

Ruth didn't respond, and after a moment, Jacob nodded and moved ahead to hold the door open for him.

The restaurant's atrium was crowded with people waiting to be seated; Ruth followed Jacob to the hostess's podium. Upon giving the pretty lioness his name, she had them stand off to the side, where Ruth crossed his arms and intentionally avoided looking at his companion. Before long, the pair were escorted through the restaurants by their jaguar waiter, past tables of seated patrons and delicious-smelling foods, all of which wafted and mingled in Ruth's nose. Thanks to the building's high ceiling, conspicuous well-ventilated design, and modern wooden architecture, the smells didn't linger and aggravate unlike most of the residences in Kelsey.

The pair were seated quickly and left alone after their drink orders were taken; sitting across from Jacob, Ruth found it harder to avoid his gaze if he didn't want to stare at other patrons. With a sigh, he faced the shorter canine, who had removed his trilby and goggles, and beheld the thoughtful expression on the wolfhound's downturned muzzle.

"You wanted to talk about something serious, didn't you?" Ruth spoke lowly so that other tall-eared patrons were less likely to hear. He could admit that, with their own conversations and the food in front of them, it wasn't likely, but you never knew with people.

Jacob's own ears rose to attention as he lifted his gray-eyed gaze. "I... Yes." He visibly chewed his words, starting to speak and catching himself before anything more could come out.

Seeing the difficulty Jacob seemed to be having, Ruth pushed ahead. "I realize that I've been standoffish when you were trying to help, and I'm sorry about that."

"I appreciate that," Jacob's handsome muzzle was now fully angled towards Ruth, his gaze looking older than it had just hours ago. "But it really just means that I don't need to ask what I had planned on asking."

"And what were you planning on asking?"

"I'll tell you later. Will you be okay with spending the night?"

Ruth's brow furrowed, but his response was cut off by the arrival of their drinks. The jaguar, who had introduced himself as Tom when Ruth wasn't paying attention, eagerly took their orders, offering suggestions with gusto. Tom's tail waved in gentle loops that matched the sway of his hips, and it seemed that whenever Ruth pulled his eyes from it, it was then entrancing Jacob's. When they had finally finished their orders, the large feline jaunted away with a grin, leaving the pair in awkward silence.

Eventually, Ruth cleared his throat. "I don't assume your waiters are usually so upbeat when you come here?"

"No, not usually." Jacob took a sip from his brimming glass of ice water. "I suppose he thinks he's found an easy tip."

Ruth couldn't help the lift of his eyebrows as he leaned forward, elbows on the polished wood table between them. "What do you mean?"

"We were murmuring a little bit obviously. He might be thinking we're together." Jacob raised his paws emphatically before clasping his fingers.

"Oh. Ah." The Dane reached for his glass of soda, eager to quench his suddenly dry mouth as heat rose in his face.

Jacob laughed in short bursts, drawing the gaze of their neighbors, though in his fit of mirth, his eyes were only for the canine across from him. "You're blushing, Ruth, that's rare!"

"What do you mean, you can't even tell!" Ruth felt his brows crease as he reached across the table for Jacob's trilby, utilizing it as a makeshift fan.

"It's not about whether or not I can see it, it's in your expression. You frown and your brows furrow."

"Am I not always frowning?"

"No, no, you just have a very strong neutral expression, it's different!"

The heat suffusing Ruth's muzzle built, and he opted to change the topic. "Hey, you're not the only one who's obvious. How are you so casual asking me to spend the night?"

"We aren't in Kelsey. I'm not so worried about being seen together--I'm not even a regular here." Jacob's shift in attitude was immediate, and Ruth felt that same trepid curiosity for what the wolfhound could possibly have intended to ask him.

After a moment, Ruth nodded, taking a sip of his soda. "Fine, I suppose that's fair."

The pair continued their banter until their dinner arrived: two center-cut porterhouse steaks with heaping sides of garlicked potatoes and green beans. The scent was heavenly, though that was no surprise, and Ruth held patiently while Jacob graced their food, and the moment the wolfhound finished his prayer, tucked into his meal.

Juices bled from Ruth's steak as he cut into it, and the flavor blossomed in his mouth as he chewed, and he smiled wide. "This is really good."

"I'm surprised you can taste it when the flavor's dripping all over you plate!" Jacob grinned as he patiently cut a sliver off of his well-done steak. "Jokes aside, I'm glad you like it."

"I'm still not happy you're spending so much money on me."

The wolfhound paused with his fork half-way to his muzzle. "I'm sorry. I should have asked."

Ruth nodded, taking a moment to enjoy the meal.

"I wasn't lying, by the way. Your mom did ask me to talk with you." Even though his ears were sheepishly folded back, Jacob's overcast-gray eyes were fixed on Ruth. It was obvious that the older canine was more ashamed at having been reprimanded for his actions than he was sorry for having done them.

"You'd already been planning on it, though."

"Yes."

"I see." Ruth took another bite of steak: the juicy tang was just as satisfying as his first bite.

"I'm sorry, Ruth."

The black Dane ignored the apology and cut a divot in his mountain of mashed potatoes. "What did you want to ask me, Jacob?"

In the middle of cutting his steak, Jacob paused, lifting his cloud-gray eyes to Ruth's. "Can't we enjoy our dinner?" He sighed.

Ruth put down his fork, careful not to let it clink, lest it attract attention. "If your question is going to make dinner unenjoyable, then why are you going to ask it at all?"

The wolfhound huffed, a long puff of air pushed from his nose as he closed his eyes and gripped his fork in a manner that, Ruth thought, revealed the steeling of his nerves. The restaurant seemed suddenly loud around them while he waited for Jacob to speak; it wasn't lost on Ruth that he had rarely seen Jacob so unsure of his words--he often took his time to formulate his statements, but they were always strong and emphatic.

"I've been thinking about leaving Kelsey, moving up north," Jacob said, shifting about uncomfortably. "I was curious," he paused, adjusting his grip on his fork and knife before continuing to cut a sliver of beef from the whole, briefly lowering his gaze. "I wanted to know if you would come with me."

Ruth felt his brows furrow as chewed his food quietly, swallowing hard before he answered. "You're asking me to elope with you?" Jacob balked, but he continued. "I can't just up and do that."

The wolfhound shifted uncomfortably, putting down his knife and fork. "I hadn't thought about it like that--"

"But that's what it'd amount to, right?" Ruth interjected. "I hope you didn't come up with this idea thirty minutes ago."

Jacob scowled. "No, actually." He folded his paws in an amicable sort of way, looking at Ruth intently. Ruth himself noticed the When he spoke again, his voice had returned to normal from the indignant flare of his denial. "I told you that I'd been wanting to talk to you."

So, the dinner wasn't purely romantic nor fatherly; having it spelled out as friendly concern made him regret the frown that nonetheless stretched his muzzle. "I'd need to think about it," he said. Jacob picked up his fork, nodding. "Of course."

"I can't say yes to something like that so quickly." The fact that he wasn't outright saying no didn't escape Ruth, and judging from the forward cant of Jacob's ears, the wolfhound was taking note of it as well.

"I wouldn't expect you to." Jacob smiled, a tentative crack of his lips that barely showed his teeth. "I wouldn't want you to," he added before diligently turning his attention to his food.

The conversation tapered off, and the rest of the dinner was spent in moderate silence, though it continued to taste as good as before the conversation; after the main course, they even shared a large slice of pecan pie that was much too sweet for Ruth's tastes. When they were finished, the wolfhound paid for their meals and they left. Ruth noted that Jacob did in fact leave a twenty folded and tucked beneath the ivory plate that held their pie's golden brown crust.

The two-hour drive back to Kelsey began in similar quiet, as Jacob had changed the radio to a classics station. The wolfhound hummed quietly along to the Bee Gees, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel. Ruth fixed his gaze outside the window, watching the dying orange and purples of the sky as the summer evening truly began to set in.

"You really did give Tom a big tip," Ruth said, finally breaking the silence.

Jacob's ear twitched, swiveling towards his companion; his trilby was now sitting on the dashboard, warming in the setting sun. "He deserved it. He worked hard enough for it, anyway."

"I'm certain it's not the only tip he wanted."

"Maybe," The wolfhound sputtered. "I don't know that I'll be going back anytime soon."

"I might pay him a visit, myself. He was cute." Ruth shrugged, and the opening chords of Queen's I Want to Break Free filled the car.

Jacob glanced at Ruth, meeting the Dane's teasing smile before turning his attention back to the highway. He reached forward and turned up the volume, and began to sing along with Freddie Mercury, his deep voice sonorous in the confines of the car. Ruth's smile widened as his various frustrations at the evening melted: his annoyance at Jacob's fatherly attentions and discomfort at his romantic overtures, even his own guilt and confusion at these reactions couldn't survive a bridge of Queen. Though Ruth had little interest in singing something that wasn't harsh belting metal or a slow and crooning ballad, it was hard not to be comforted by Jacob's enthusiastic harmonizing alongside Freddie Mercury about how he wanted to find true love, and that he needed to break free in order to do so.

In the five or so years of his ill-defined relationship with Reverend Jaco Hadler, Ruth had quickly come to understand that the easiest way to excite the older man was to kiss him. And so, pressing the shorter canine against the waist-high breakfast bar was how he initiated the night's tryst. His long pink tongue invaded the wolfhound's muzzle and pushed against Jacob's, foregoing any sort of pretense of gentleness; if he was going to walk on glass, he'd might as well dance.

It wasn't as if it was really all that sudden, either: the pair had long since established a sort of nonverbal communication to indicate interest. A paw clutching the other's elbow, a tail intentionally batting the other's, knees or ankles mingling--if either of them wasn't interested, all he had to do was pull away. Indeed, Jacob had taken Ruth's arm in paw to lead the younger man the eight feet from the carport to the back door, refusing to release him even to unlock the door to his house. He had stood close as he turned on the kitchen light, lingering in Ruth's space as he reached across him to flick the switch on the wall behind him. It was easy for the Dane to take the leap, bodily moving the shorter man to corner him against the counter, and Jacob's surprise quickly gave way to intrigue when he was kissed.

Yes, Jacob's interest was quickly made obvious as his tongue went to work rebelling Ruth's before pushing and following it whence it came. The wolfhound's paws quickly began to roam down Ruth's chest before wrapping around him and firmly cupping his ass. The Great Dane pressed against the older man's front, unabashedly grinding his firm bulge against Jacob's torso; Jacob groaned into their kiss in a hot pant of breath.

The tangling of their tongues intensified, and Ruth clenched his eyes shut as arousal flushed into his sheath. One of the paws clutching his ass disappeared, and a moment later it returned, pressed against the back of his head where Jacob gently combed his fingers through his fur. It remained there even as Ruth took the wordless cue and broke their kiss and dropped to his knees in front of Jacob.

Heat seeped through the fabric of Jacob's pants and Ruth gazed up at the wolfhound as his cheek pressed against the other man's hot bulge. Though he had yet to remove his goggles, Jacob's anticipation was plain in his lolling tongue as he gazed down at the younger canine. Ruth carefully unfastened Jacob's belt before handling his buttons with the same care. Gravity took care of the shorts, and Ruth's fingertips teased their way between waistband and flesh before tugging down his plain blue boxer briefs--Jacob squirmed at the tickle of foreign teasing along his pubic fur, and Ruth grinned.

Unlike the rest of his alabaster-furred body, Jacob's sheath and inner thighs were splotched with black; somehow, his furry scrotum, heavy with his sizable testicles, was pure as the driven snow. Ruth pushed his muzzle into Jacob's groin, taking in his heady scent with a deep breath--he could tell that the older dog had bathed before picking him up hours ago due to the cleanliness of his masculine scent. His own boner throbbed in his pants as his eyes rolled back.

The wolfhound's pink tip peeked eagerly from the surrounding darkness, and Ruth quickly lapped at it. He grinned as Jacob's thighs trembled, and the wolfhound grunted a quiet "Oh, God," as Ruth wrapped his lips around the burgeoning erection and used his muzzle to push back his black sheath, taking his erect length into his mouth. Despite his girth, Jacob was a man of just-average length, and Ruth worked over his length without difficulty, head bobbing to a rhythm that only he could hear as he slurped enthusiastically along Jacob's cock.

There was a time in the distant past that Ruth had been ashamed of the enthusiasm with which he gave blowjobs. It had taken a combination of continued encouragement on Jacob's part, early, and gained experience with other men, later (much thanks in particular went to an overweight tegu telling him that he looked as if he was afraid the lizard's cock would explode in his face before guffawing heartily when it of course did) to erode this trepidation and get him to relax and enjoy the act. It was easy for him now to get lost while his head swam in another man's musk with his muzzle in their groin, swallowing their length--and damn if he didn't love the natural spice of Jacob's musk. It was also easier to come to an agreement with fellatio; top or bottom, there were few arguments to be had with getting your dick sucked.

Now, with the sounds of his wet slurping filling the kitchen, a paw fell to Ruth's lap to massage the boner that had long sprung free of his sheath and through the flap of his boxer shorts. He unzipped his pants without sparing a glance downward and inhaled sharply through his nose when his aching excitement pushed past the hard teeth of his zipper and into the conditioned air.

Paws on the top of Ruth's head brought his attention back to the moment. Precum heavily flavored his tongue as his head was stilled, and he arched an eyebrow inquisitorially at Jacob, who was leaning heavily against the counter behind him.

"I'm not as young as I used to be," the wolfhound murmured through measured breaths. He licked his lips as Ruth dragged his tongue along the underside of his length, and his cock throbbed in response. "I won't be able to cum twice," he clarified.

"Oh." Ruth watched the wolfhound's cock as he pulled away. "I understand." Jacob flexed, and his dick jumped, flinging a bead of precum onto Ruth's muzzle.

Though he would certainly prefer to grip the older dog's wrists and suck him to a squirming finish--something that had rewarded him with a muzzle fucking, or better, a torturously slow blowjob of his own on previous occasions--Ruth stood and swallowed his disappointment, even while his customary frown fell into place. He didn't bother stuffing away his erection--though walking with it would be uncomfortable, it'd at least keep him hard. He wrapped an arm around Jacob's waist and gripped the older man's dick, giving it several slow tugs.

Jacob grunted through clenched teeth, and Ruth finally released his cock. "You used to joke about being ready on command all the time," the black Dane teased.

The wolfhound sheepishly averted his eyes, leaning over to pull up his shorts. "I still do it twice a day. I--" he straightened and made the universal gesture with his paw, "--before I picked you up for dinner. He hesitated before using the same paw to take hold of Ruth's, and his white tail thwapped against the counter before he stilled it.

"Let's go upstairs," he suggested, tugging Ruth through the kitchen and along to the upper story of the house.

Ruth could have made through the dark without Jacob's guidance, he'd spent more than enough time there. Admittedly, he did find that Jacob's firm grip and thumb gliding along the fur of the back of his paw comforting as he was led through the familiar halls. The house was made of stone, much like Ruth's, and the wolfhound's scent was comforting in the permeation of its familiar domesticity.

When they approached Jacob's bedroom, the older canine released Ruth's paw with reluctance, lingering as their fingertips slipped apart. Meager light filtered in through the blinds of the window next to the dresser that Jacob approached on the other side of the room, haloing uneven bars around his silhouette. Be not afraid, Ruth mused, recognizing that if he were a more faithful man, he would probably take that for the warning it was and leave. Instead, he reached for the light switch on the wall beside him.

"Don't, I've got it." Jacob's voice was followed by the scrape and fwoosh! of a catching match, and after a moment the room was illuminated surprisingly well by what could only be a candle. When Jacob moved away, Ruth saw that the candle was squat and oval-shaped, with a long wick embedded along its center, explaining how it did such a good job of brightening the room.

The scent of lavender began to fill the air, and Ruth sighed as he leaned against the doorframe with his cock in paw. He drew a long breath through his nostrils, enjoying the not-yet overpowering perfume as it lightly burned his nose. Getting fucked by candlelight wasn't how he'd expected the night to end, but he was still hard--achingly so, thanks to the makeshift cock-ring his zipper was forming around his sheath and cock--and there weren't many polite ways he could tell Jacob "Hey, I'd prefer to fuck you," or "Candles are a little heavy," so instead he shut his eyes and jerked himself slowly with his ears canted forward, listening to the older canine shuffling around the room.

"Is something bothering you, Ruth?" Jacob's voice drew near, and Ruth opened his eyes to find the older man standing naked about a foot away. The wolfhound was still hard, and his paws were clasped just above his erection, as if he was attempting to be professional. "If something's on your mind, I'd hear you." His tail was wagging slowly behind him.

"There's obviously something on my mind."

Jacob swallowed and his pale eyes dropped to watch Ruth as the Great Dane unbuttoned his pants and allowed his shorts to fall to the floor. "We don't have to--was it stupid to light the candles?"

"A little bit," Ruth admitted, relieved that Jacob was at least aware of that. It wasn't common that the older man's nerves showed so plainly in regards to sex--outside of a few arguments, and their first initial coupling a week after Ruth's eighteenth birthday, Ruth couldn't recall any instances. "But I don't mind it--it's sweet," Ruth continued when Jacob frowned, probably admonishing himself. "Just open the window, it's going to hurt in like, five minutes."

The wolfhound nodded, backing away and moving across to the window. He worked quietly, and by the time he was done, Ruth had finished undressing and was striding over to the neat, well-made bed. When Jacob turned and saw him sitting with one leg folded beneath him on the side of the queen-sized mattress, his tail became a propeller with how quickly he crossed the room to join him.

The bed's four posts were ornately carved, as was the headboard. Ruth had traced its engravings many times, feeling out the minute veins along the wings of floating cherubs while Jacob knelt behind him or hovered above him while Ruth was folded in half. This time, the Great Dane was laid out on his back, with plush pillows cushioning his head and the soft sheets beneath him, and Ruth found himself tracking along the wings of a particularly fat lupine-cherub that smiled down at him. The wolfhound lubed him up slowly, reverently, murmuring words of praise and appreciation while scissoring his slick fingers to stretch him. After long minutes of this--no more than two, really--Jacob pulled his fingers from Ruth's ass and aligned himself, wrapping one of the Dane's long black legs around his waist while kneeling between them.

When Jacob entered him, whispering "Here we go, dear," he did it slowly, easing his girth inside Ruth with the patience of a lover. The pain and fullness of penetration weren't exactly his favorite sensations in the world, but Jacob was good--and thick--and when he bottomed out, he was nudging against Ruth's prostate, and he placed gentle kisses along the sides of Ruth's muzzle when the Great Dane gasped at the tingling bursts of sensation inside him. When Ruth nodded to signal his (relative) comfort, the wolfhound began to pull out, drawing a moan from both canines.

Jacob pulled back and picked up his pace, and Ruth huffed short, coarse breaths through his teeth as the older man rocked back and forth into him. Bracing free his paw against the older man's belly, Ruth watched the pink tip of the wolfhound's tongue as it poked between his teeth, so concentrated he was on his moderate rhythm. He puffed through his nose, eyes crinkled shut and muzzle to the ceiling, and his paws ran caresses along Ruth's dark thighs like moonlit clouds brushing against the night sky.

"I'm going to slow down, dear," the wolfhound panted quietly, turning his gaze down on the younger canine. His eyes had opened a crack, and the older man halted his thrusts as he fought to control his expression. The wolfhound leaned over his partner, never leaving his tight warmth, and braced his paws on either side of the Dane's head. His tongue nervously swept across his lips, and didn't quite fully withdraw when he continued. "It's been a while for me, and I don't know that I can hold off much longer."

"No rush," Ruth breathed, aware of his achingly hard length trapped between them. With the wolfhound leaning over him, he could see how the older man's skin flushed pink beneath his pale fur. "I don't mind."

Jacob pushed himself back into his kneeling position, brushing the fingers of one paw along Ruth's jaw as he moved away to shift his weight; the bed groaned in protest as he unhooked the Great Dane's legs from around his waist before lifting them up his shoulders. He fixed Ruth with a concerned gaze.

"Do you think you can manage it?"

The Great Dane nodded, letting out a quiet groan as Jacob leaned forward, folding him in half and closing the distance between their muzzles. The wolfhound's paws found their places holding up his weight as he resumed his thrusting, pushing and pulling himself from Ruth's depths. He narrowed his eyes, mouth frozen in a snarl that caught his tongue between his sharp teeth.

Ruth turned his head away from Jacob's as he snaked a paw between them to grip his throbbing cock. The shadows cast by the candlelight danced about the walls, and when he slid his fist from tapered tip to engorged knot, his heart matched their tempo and he began to pant with anticipation for his building orgasm. Where Jacob wasn't a man cursed with the burden of over-endowment, his six and some inches were thicker than his fists, and his bulbous knot was even thicker. His thrusts were rough and deep, and every one of them pushed short and quick gasps from his lover.

A growl began deep in Jacob's throat, and the wolfhound's thrusts soon gave way to an insistent grinding of his hips against Ruth's ass. Ruth's paw quickened in its ministrations as he did his best to relax and allow the older man fully inside him. He groaned quietly at the simultaneous dull stretching pain and building need in his loins as he jerked his cock from tip to knot.

Jacob buried his muzzle in Ruth's throat, silencing his growl without stopping it--his teeth carefully latched onto the younger canine's neck, pushing the thrumming vibrations from his throat through his lover's neck. All the while, he continued to gyrate his hips in an attempt to get his knot inside Ruth. It didn't matter that the straining proximity of Ruth's orgasm was making him clench around Jacob, his resistance eventually give way, and the canines groaned in unison through gritted teeth.

It didn't take long for Jacob's orgasm to overtake him, and he pumped his hips as much as he could while tied in place against Ruth. He released Ruth's throat but continued to hold him pinned, watching with gray eyes as he fervently worked his cock.

The room grew warm, too warm, and Ruth's skin felt as if it were alight as he squirmed about while locked tight to Jacob; his back had begun to ache at the uncomfortable position of being pressed knees-to-shoulders. He turned his head forward, meeting Jacob's intense gaze, and began to work his jaw. His tingling need dissipated as his fervent stroking began to chafe, and his wanting turned into frustration. "Shit, shit, shit..."

"What, what happened?" Jacob pushed himself into a squat, relieving most of the pressure on Ruth's back.

The younger canine released his cock with a sigh. "Can you let my legs down? I'm not gonna cum."

Jacob complied, watching Ruth for any sign of discomfort as he slipped the Dane's muscular legs off his shoulders one by one. "Okay. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Ruth responded, releasing the headboard with his other paw before crossing them both across his dark-furred chest. With nowhere else for his legs to be while he was locked to Jacob's waist, he carefully wrapped them around the older man's waist, frowning when one of his hips popped. "Just missed the mark a bit."

"Is that new? That didn't used to happen." The older man's eyebrows furrowed, and his tail began to sweep slowly across the sheets, brushing Ruth's ankles.

"I stopped getting fucked so much once I started taking school seriously, Jacob." Ruth said, sharper than he'd intended. "That was your advice."

The wolfhound remained silent, and Ruth's stomach churned with guilt. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Guilt began to push its way down into his stomach. "You don't have anything to be sorry for."

The room was quiet for a long moment while either man avoided the other's gaze. Eventually the wolfhound was tugging, trying to pull his knot free from the vice of their joining, and Ruth was grunting as the thick bulb was prized free from his depths and fresh air bathed his ass and the cooling semen that leaked from it. The bed creaked as Jacob walked on his knees to the edge before stepping off, his pale fur cast in Halloween-y tones as he approached the candle, his still-erect cock bobbing in front of him, before leaning over to blow it out. Darkness claimed the room.

Jacob returned to the bed quietly and lay on his side, draping his arm over Ruth's midsection; the Great Dane turned onto his side to dutifully accept his role as little spoon.

Ruth woke once, briefly, when shuffling about the bedroom caused his floppy ear to twitch once to many times and fold itself inside out. Cold air against his back alerted him to Jacob's absence, and his tailed thwapped against the bed, lifting the blanket. He rolled over and cracked open one brown eye; the alarm clock situated on the neat bedside table read 7:46 AM in solid red letters.

"I have to go to work, dear." Jacob's voice came from across the room. Ruth sat up and beheld the wolfhound half dressed, pulling up a pair of navy shorts.

"No post on Sundays," Ruth commented nonsensically.

Jacob lifted an eyebrow, but he finished tucking in his baby blue shirt and set to buckling his belt. "It's Saturday, Ruth." He glanced at the mirror set over the dresser behind him before grabbing his goggles and crossing to the bed and planting a kiss on Ruth's cheek. "If it were Sunday, I'd have to lead service anyway."

"I don't want to go to church," Ruth answered, pulling Jacob back to kiss his white-furred cheek in return. When he had done so, he flopped onto his back, pulling the blanket over his cool chest, watching the other canine move towards the bedroom door.

"Okay, well, I'll be back this afternoon." Jacob smiled, and his tail waved in a pleasant arc. He pulled on his goggles. "We still need to... have that talk."

Ruth opened his mouth in a wide yawn that made his jaw creak. He shut his eyes.

"Okay. Don't sleep all day, dear."

The clock's red numerals told Ruth that the time was 10:33 AM the next time he blinked open his eyes, and with prompting from his bladder, he climbed out of bed and hurried into the master bathroom. He picked up his phone and underwear on his way from the toilet, and was pleasantly surprised to find that it hadn't died in the night. He was less surprised to find that while he was getting fucked the previous night, he'd missed a number of texts from his mother.

I texted Reverend Hadler, the latest messages said. Text me when you wake up, Ruth.

The black canine sighed, and his stomach rumbled; he fired off a 'good morning' before setting his phone aside, face down on the unruly sheets. The bedroom smelled strongly of the previous night's activities, but aside from the signs of his own occupancy, it was neat. There were few signs of personalization in the room, beyond the aesthetic tastes of furnishings: there was one painting on the wall shared with the bathroom, a generic thing of a neat cornfield angled and framed against a verdant border of trees that separated the gold from the blue of the cloudless sky. Ruth's leg bounced restlessly as he debated showering. His phone vibrated four times, two messages, beside him as he opted against it--he was already wearing yesterday's underwear, and it would be arguably worse to get clean and put on an entire day-old outfit.

He stood and dressed, finding the need to move and do something hard to resist. When he was done, he took his phone and left the bedroom, sure to close the door behind him.

In the light of day, the plainness of Jacob's home was hard to miss. Where the master bedroom sat at the end of a bare, stone-walled hall with one bathroom on the left and a guest room that stayed empty on the right, at the other end was another room, its door shut, and the branch that led to the den, and through it, the rest of the house. Behind the door--Jacob wouldn't disapprove of Ruth peeking in; the Dane simply didn't want to look--lay the wolfhound's collection of model ships, both finished and in some state of incomplete. The room was well-lit with lamps and had fans and screened windows for ventilation that eased drying when the older canine painted. It was a hobby that was maybe more than that--Jacob had very little free time, and had instilled Ruth with a value for spending it wisely. The den was occupied by two expensive leather recliners that faced the television mounted on the wall, the same direction as Jacob's bedroom. Toward the stairs was a cabinet in which, aside from textbooks and papers, sat a dated desktop computer.

The staircase to the main floor was the most public display of personal affects in the house. On the wall that made the landing, a small collection of photographs was hung depicting Jacob and his parents, all taken at some point during the wolfhound's youth. Along the wall lining the staircase were similarly nostalgic photos and documents, all in fastidiously maintained frames. Up near the top were Jacob's degrees in philosophy and theology, and his certificate of ordainment. Down towards the bottom were photographs, mostly church-related, though right near the bottom (where Ruth himself showed up in a few, often not even looking at the camera) was a photo of his twentieth anniversary party with the USPS. He smiled widely in his blue uniform, goggles obscuring his eyes as he held the cake angled for the picture.

Ruth stared at this last photo, and wondered if he could imagine himself making a life with Jacob. He'd knew that the older man loved him: Jacob hadn't done a good job disguising his feelings, even when he didn't voice them. But did he love Jacob? His tail swung, waving once through the conditioned air. Would it be fair to commit to something like that when he wasn't even sure what he wanted to do now that he was done with school, when he was barely getting pleasure from any of the things they'd had in common before? His stomach growled, and he clicked on his phone as he made his way to the kitchen.

I asked the Reverend to talk to you. I hope that's okay? What did you talk about?

Ruth distantly recollected the previous night as he tugged open the fridge. It hadn't been so bad, all in all. Jacob was as kind as he always was, and he himself hadn't been brave enough to try and find a hookup since he'd graduated, so even a failed coitus had to count for something. He grabbed the carton of eggs and pint of milk and set them aside before rummaging around for cooking receptacles.

i told him i was gay nd that i wanted to tell you.

Jacob would want to discuss his plans when he got home. Ruth broke up his eggs, and his mouth watered as their scent filled the kitchen. His phone remained still until he sat down at the breakfast bar, plate of steaming eggs in front of him. Jacob's trilby lay unassumingly beside his plate. He took a moment to taste his barebones meal--it was hard to go wrong with eggs, and today's marked another tally of success--before picking up his phone.

What did he say?

that he would support me.

Another silence followed that text, and Ruth dutifully washed his dishes. The window over the sink looked out over the backyard and the house's L-shape showcased the uncharacteristically untended, not quite overgrown yard framed by the red fence. Patchwork clouds covered a hazy summer-blue sky.

Ruth, I'll support you.

Ruth unlocked his phone just as another text came in, and he pushed away from the sink and across the kitchen towards the front door.

Will you be home tonight?

The Great Dane locked the door, shutting it securely as he stepped out into the midday heat. He narrowed his eyes against the bright glare of the sun that shone through the fat, soft clouds that were the comforting gray of Jacob's eyes.

ill be home in a bit, he typed, knowing very well it'd take him more than an hour to walk across town. His phone was already growing uncomfortably hot in his palm. gonna walk, think about stuff.

As he padded down the driveway and to the sidewalk, Ruth recognized that he did indeed have a lot to consider. Most immediately, he'd have to figure out how to escape going to church tomorrow after this talk with his mom. Sooner rather than later, he'd have to figure out how to afford moving away from home and what he would even do.

He mulled over his options as he plodded along; he had plenty of time, he was sure of that, but he'd have to research things. The sun was oppressive on his black pelt, and he flattened his ears against the heat. The humidity wasn't terrible, but he was panting in the soupy air by the time he reached the end of the block. If nothing else, he could be thankful that the scent of masculine exertion would overwhelm any remainder of the previous night's activities on him by the time he got home.