Exposure - Chapter Six

Story by Tank Jaeger on SoFurry

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#6 of Exposure


Chapter Six.

"You still feel like coming over?" Dox said, uncertainly.

"Sure," Jason said, unable to keep a small groan of pain from emerging as he pulled his shirt over his head, "why wouldn't I?"

Dox didn't know whether to think Jason was a hero or an imbecile. "You're pretty banged up, dude."

Jason's fur bristled, and even though Dox knew that the shepherd's aggression wasn't directed towards him, it was still a little intimidating. "I'm not going to let someone like Joey tell me what I can or can't do." He said with determination. "I'm going."

"Okay," Dox said, trusting Jason's better judgment. Besides, it was impossible to argue with the man, so why bother? "I'll see you at lunch, then." He gathered his belongings and asked Alex for a pass to his history class.

He felt better about taking Jason to the med tech instead of the school's nurse after watching the man go over the injured player with a fine-toothed comb. He'd had experiences with the nurse after a couple of particularly rough incidents, but she hadn't been half as thorough as Alex was.

"Sure," Alex replied, taking a pad of hall passes out of the top of his desk, "no problem." He then wrote out a second pass without a date on it, and snapped them both off of the pad. "Here's a "get out of jail free" card, next time you need it," he told Dox. "Thanks for helping us out." Unspoken was his real request, "Please don't tell anybody about this". Dox wouldn't have anyway, and he would probably never use the extra pass, but he took it with thanks and headed off to his class.

Worrying over Jason's condition meant that Dox had some trouble concentrating during the remainder of his history class, but by second period he'd gotten his rhythm back and was able to focus on his schoolwork. By lunchtime, though, he was ready to see Jason and make sure he hadn't keeled over.

Dox headed to the photography room, where he stored his lunch and usually ate it, and where, as of late, Jason had been bringing his own lunch to eat. They had tried to eat in the cafeteria together, but Jason had caught so much flak for eating lunch with the school pariah instead of spending that time with his friends that Dox refused to allow it. Jason seemed more than willing to put up with the mild abuse from people he used to think of as friends, but Dox wasn't about to put him through all that. It was simpler for everyone if they just didn't try.

The weird thing was, Dox thought, that he held no animosity towards most of Jason's friends, and would gladly have shared Jason's company with them if only they'd let him. Unfortunately, the choice they offered Jason was binary - us or the loser - and didn't offer the choice to share. Since they were not about to welcome Dox into their group, that meant giving up Jason's company.

Being rejected, even by people he didn't care about, made Dox feel like some sort of tropical disease, and knowing that Jason had willingly given up his friends to share time with him only made him feel that much more guilty. He wanted to bring wonderful things into Jason's life, but instead he was afraid that he was dragging him into his world of self-imposed isolation.

As usual, the room was unoccupied at this time of the day, and Dox unwrapped his sandwich with only a roomful of empty chairs and desks for company. Jason had said that Dox would see him at lunch, but as always the smaller dog had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that the jock wouldn't show up. He had made great strides in his self confidence since Jason had come into his life, but he wasn't quite ready to give his pocketknife back to him. Not yet.

Dox hadn't yet taken the first bite of his sandwich when Jason strode into the room and crossed to where Dox was standing with his great, ground-eating steps. "Come on, sport." he said with conviction, putting his fists on his hips. "It's time I stopped hiding."

"What are you talking about?" Dox was confused, but he trusted Jason enough that he immediately started gathering his lunch and putting his belongings back into his photography drawer.

"I'm tired of jackasses like Joey having the upper hand," Jason explained, wrapping Dox's sandwich for him and putting it back in his lunch bag. His look of angry defiance was so righteous, so complete, that Dox's heart swelled. "If they're going to hate me, let them hate me for who I am." Jason picked up Dox's lunch bag, took Dox by the hand, and started leading him towards the center of the campus. "We're eating in the cafeteria with everybody else from now on." He'd slowed his pace to accommodate Dox's shorter legs, but the smaller dog almost had to jog to keep up with him.

Dox was speechless, but not because he had nothing to say. Far from it, he had what felt like a book full of information that he wanted to impart, and only seconds to communicate it. His brain was having a difficult time figuring out what to say, and how to say it. His paw was warm and happy inside Jason's, but his feet felt like they were slogging through molasses.

Dox felt that one of Jason's biggest strengths was also one of his biggest weaknesses. He was mule-headed and tenaciously stubborn, and when he had made up his mind, there was usually no changing it. But right now, what he wanted to do was still fresh in his mind, and Dox thought that maybe he might be able, like the Akido moves Jason had taught him, to use the brute force of his idea to deflect it in another direction. And hadn't Jason also taught him that he needed to stand up for his own thoughts and feelings?

"Jason," he said, squeezing his boyfriend's hand and drawing it closer to him, "I think this is a really noble idea, and I have a big favor to ask you. Will you listen to me for a second before we go ahead and do this?"

As Jason slowed his steps and turned his attention, at least a portion of it, to Dox, the smaller dog continued, "You practically have the student body of this school in the palm of your hand so you must know what you're doing, but can we sit down for a minute so you can put my mind at ease about some things? Please?"

Wordlessly, Jason led them to one of the concrete benches that had appeared in a half dozen of his assignments and sat them down. Once they were seated, Dox continued, "I've been where you were this morning, a lot, and I think I understand what you're feeling right now."

Reaching inside himself, it wasn't difficult to find the mental remnants of his previous assaults. He tried his best to let go of them and not allow them to incubate inside his soul, but there were some that, for whatever reason, simply refused to fade. Like a porcupine's quill, they worked their way deeper and deeper into the flesh of his mind, ceaseless in their attempts to pierce his heart. As gently as he might a sleeping lion, he caressed one that was particularly familiar to him, but only enough to once again sense the humiliation and fury that it carried within. He did understand, better than anyone else, what Jason felt, and he had no desire to relive it.

"If I'm right," Dox said, quietly, "you're frustrated, you're angry, and you want to prove to those bastards and everybody else in this god damned school that you're just as good as they are.

"You know that I love you," Dox said, locking eyes with Jason, "and I'm proud to be your boyfriend. And this," he said, squeezing Jason's hand, "is probably going to be like using a shotgun to kill a mouse. It's going to do the job, but it's also going to leave an unpleasant amount of collateral damage. Would it be better to just have lunch together like any other couple? After a while they'll get the idea, and we won't have to shove it down their throats to get our point across. We can still do everything you want without shocking anyone."

Thinking about what Dox was saying, Jason sighed and slowly nodded his head. "I guess I just want to get this "coming out" thing over as fast as I can," he said. "I'm not used to beating around the bush, and I hate pretending that everything's all right when it's not."

"It's hard," Dox said, folding one leg underneath him against the cool concrete so he could better face his lover, "and I've never had to come out like you are." He moved his other hand to join in holding Jason's, gently massaging the pads as he spoke. "I've never told anyone I'm gay, but I guess they all assume it's true because I've stopped denying it. You've got it harder than me. Almost all of them think you're straight as a stick. The boys all want to be like you, and the girls have spent the last few years of their lives dreaming about being your date for the Prom. They're going to feel pretty weird when they realize their assumptions were wrong."

"And when people feel weird they do dumb things, right?" Jason said, sadly. "So I have to keep hiding my feelings for you so they don't feel weird and attack us out of stupidity?"

"I think we both know that wasn't where I was going with that," Dox said, mildly, "If we just keep doing what we're doing, they'll all catch on eventually and nobody gets shocked." He took a breath and thought for a moment. "What you want to do is throw it in their face, and then challenge their reaction. It'll get the job done, but it's going to make life tough for you."

Dox thought back to what Jason had told him when they were out driving in his car, barreling down a winding country road the previous weekend. "What was it you said, "Fast is smooth, and smooth is fast? If you make bumps for yourself, this isn't going to go as fast as you want it to."

Jason looked back at Dox with amused annoyance. "You have the uncanny ability to take what I say and use it against me later." Jason shook his head ruefully and moved his hand from Dox's paw to his shoulder, giving it a rub and a squeeze. "I hear you, buddy."

Standing up, Jason picked up Dox's sack lunch from beside him on the bench. "Come on, pup, let's go. My food is getting cold." As the two continued on their way to the lunch room, Jason asked, "How'd you get so smart?"

It might have only been meant as a joke between friends, but still it made Dox blush with pride. "I listen to public radio." he said, seriously.

"Huh." Jason grunted. "I thought everyone who listened to the liberal media carried a tote bag and ate granola."

"Not the gay ones," Dox laughed, "we still eat Fruit Loops."

"I love you, you know that?" Jason told him, still smiling. There was another couple within earshot, but he didn't care.

"I love you too," Dox said, punching him on the shoulder. He wondered about the other couple too, but if Jason was comfortable with it, then he guessed he could ease his guard as well.

Jason held the door open for Dox and waved him inside. Dox felt hundreds of eyes boring holes into him as he walked through the room, scrutinized and judged to be lacking by people he cared nothing about. "This is why I don't usually eat in here," Dox said. "It feels like everyone is staring at me."

"Actually, they're staring at us." Jason corrected. "They think we make a great looking couple." He smiled over at Dox, and the smile he got in return was thankful and trusting, but still nervous.

"Hey, Doxeeee!" mocked one of the sophomores from a table they passed, calling out in a singsong voice. Dox didn't even know his name, but he'd been taunted by him ever since his first day. In his mind, Dox called him The Jerk.

The Jerk apparently considered himself quite the wit, and according to the smug look on his face, he also considered himself quite safe. That changed rapidly when Jason calmly walked over to him, got down on one knee so they were on the same level, and whispered something in his ear. He never did tell Dox what he said to The Jerk, but whatever it was made the kid grab his tray and run, wide-eyed and sweating, out of the lunch room. Dox wasn't particularly fond of the idea that Jason would try to win all his fights for him, but secretly, he though that this was pretty damned cool.

Ignoring the stares of dozens of people as they passed, they walked to where Jason had left his lunch and sat down, Jason with his back to the wall and Dox facing him. This was different for Dox - if he absolutely had to eat in the cafeteria, he'd always preferred to sit with his back to the wall so nobody could approach him unseen. But today felt different. Now he had Jason to protect him, and he felt immune to the fear of assault that had driven him away.

Jason's lunch tray had been right where he left it. Curious, Dox asked, "You just left it sitting here?"

Jason sighed, looking a bit sad. "I was going to take it to the photo room and eat with you, but on my way out, all I could see were all the other couples in here holding hands and making disgusting little kissy faces at each other. All of a sudden I couldn't take it any more. I wanted to be making little kissy faces of my own." Regretfully, he added, "I guess I shouldn't do that either."

Dox grinned. "I'd never stop you. You make cute disgusting little kissy faces. How's your lunch?"

"Small." Jason said, regretfully. "And it doesn't taste any better cold than it did hot."

"I thought they'd give you more, since you're on the football team." Dox said.

"I wish they would, but I'm on the subsidized lunch plan, and this is all they can give me."

"Oh," Dox said, more curious than ever. "So can't you bring your lunch instead?"

"Usually my dad takes any leftovers to work with him for lunch, and whatever's left goes to making dinner the next day. My mom's really good at stretching a meal out, but it can only go so far."

Hearing this, Dox pulled the plastic knife off Jason's tray and cut his sandwich, putting half of it on Jason's plate.

"Don't do that," Jason protested, "You're gonna be hungry."

"I need to be a little bit hungry," Dox said, patting his belly, "I'm trying to lose some of this." He took a small bite from his sandwich and chewed slowly. It was true that he was hungry, but thanks to that jackass Joey, Jason had lost everything in his belly that he'd eaten for breakfast and he must be starving by now. Dox was content to be uncomfortable for a few hours, if it meant that Jason didn't have to be.

"Don't lose it all," Jason protested, the hint of a smile quirking the corners of his lips. "I kinda like da belly!"

Dox blushed, uncomfortable now that the attention had been turned to him. "I don't think I could ever lose it all, I just want to change my shape a bit. You know," he said, moving his hands from his belly up to his chest, "move some of this up a bit." Watching Jason eat the sandwich he'd been given gave Dox a warm, happy feeling that he hadn't expected. Taking care of someone he loved just plain felt good to him.

"I could help you with that, if you want." Jason said, around a mouthful of food.

"Would you?" Dox said, excitedly, "That would be great!"

Something in his tone of voice concerned Jason. "Why do you want to change the way you look?"

"I don't like my body," Dox's body-image issues were in full swing now, making his ears grow hot even when talking about his physical condition with someone he knew was safe. "Every time I walk in front of a mirror, I see a dumpy little kid who hates the way he looks but doesn't have the willpower to do anything about it." He shrugged. "I'm ready to change that, now. And I think I'd feel a lot more self confident if I were stronger, too."

"Okay," Jason said, "as long as you're not doing this just for me, I'm happy to help."

"Well," Dox said, hesitantly, "I'm not going to lie to you, if you weren't around, I probably wouldn't want to do it." Seeing the look on Jason's face, he asked, "But isn't that why we're here? To help each other be better than we were before?"

"Sure," Jason said, not convinced, "but I like you the way you are. You don't have to change to make me happy."

"You didn't ask me to change, did you?" Dox asked.

"Well, no. But..."

Dox cut him off with a raised eyebrow. "Would you be studying so hard if we weren't together?"

Jason abruptly shut his mouth and stared at Dox, and for an instant Dox thought he'd somehow gone too far in making his point.

Looking more than a little annoyed at himself, Jason finally admitted, "I guess I wouldn't."

"See?" Dox said, opening up his bag of potato chips as he talked, "You're not doing it for me; you're doing it for you. I'm just helping you." He pulled out a single chip and looked at it longingly, then decided against eating even one of them. Instead he put the entire bag on Jason's tray, with the opening facing the other direction. He didn't need the temptation of an open bag of potato chips staring him in the face. "And that's what I'm asking you to do," he finished, "help me do something I want to do, but I have a hard time doing for myself."

"Okay, okay," Jason relented. "I'll work out a routine for you. We can talk about it tonight, if you want. I don't have much homework anyway."

"Good," Dox said, crossing his arms defiantly and smiling wickedly at the man he loved, "because if you weren't going to help me, I was going to dump you and start shacking up with Joey. I think I'm developing a thing for guys who beat me up and pour Coke in my fur..."

Jason adjusted his shirt and for the tenth time, wished that he'd worn something else. The pounding in his chest was not to the frantic beat of fear, but was excitement. He'd seen Dox's parents coming and going, but this was more like a formal introduction. More than anything, he wanted them to like him personally and maybe eventually to approve of Dox's choice of him as a partner. The two had come far in the past couple of months, and had finally began to trust in their relationship enough to start leaning on each other a bit. But neither of them felt complete comfortable yet. He supposed that might never happen. He knew couples who'd been together for years, and one or both of them still felt uncertain about the other from time to time. Maybe that was just part of what it was to be human.

Jason did something he couldn't remember ever having done at Dox's house. He rang the doorbell. Blowing out his breath, he psyched himself up. I'm prepared for this.

He was able to maintain that mindset until the door opened, revealing the slightly sour face of Dox's mother, softened somewhat by a... he guessed he'd call it a smile, but it hardly looked friendly. Suspicious might be a more correct description. At that instant, Jason's hopes that this was going to be a comfortable and quiet dinner began to waver. "Hello, Mrs. Rayburn." Jason flinched at the slight quake in his voice and made an effort to firm it up. "Is Dox in?"

"Yes," Mrs. Rayburn said, her voice almost as welcoming as the dry desert winds. "Please wait here."

Jason felt like telling her that he'd been in their home a dozen times before and knew the way to Dox's private space as well as she did, but he restrained himself and stood politely in the entryway, staring at the ugly vase that was his only company for what seemed like an eternity before Dox popped his head around the corner.

The urge to lean forward and kiss him, or at least to rub noses, was strong, but he managed to limit his affection to a quick squeeze of Dox's shoulder. "Hey, pu... Uh, Dox," he caught himself. "What's up?"

"You bring your books?" Dox asked, "Let's get as much as we can done before dinner."

"Uh, yeah," Jason said, looking around him awkwardly. "Oh. I guess I left them in the car."

"Go get 'em,", Dox said, an understanding smile on his face, "I'll wait here for you."

"Oh, uh... yeah." Jason said, giving his forehead a mental slap. What was wrong with him tonight? "Be right back."

Returning with his backpack, Jason followed Dox to his room. As soon as Dox closed the door, Jason collapsed on the bed. "What's up with me, man? I thought I had this under control, but I'm seriously shook!"

Dox laughed quietly and sat down on the bed next to Jason. "My mom has a way of doing that, doesn't she?" Jason had flung himself onto his back with his arms above his head, exposing a thin line of silvery-brown belly fur. Dox looked at it longingly, wanting to run his fingers through it as he had so many times before, but now was hardly the time.

"I guess I always thought you were exaggerating how she is, but... damn. I felt like an insect under a fucking microscope."

"I know what you mean," Dox said, putting a hand on Jason's expansive chest, "and get that cursing out of your system before you sit down to the table. It won't win you any points with either of them."

"Oh, yeah, I'd never do that. But just in case, god-damned shit tits fuck bastard." He smiled at Dox and took his hand. "That should do it." He brought Dox's hand up to his muzzle and gave it a gentle kiss, swimming in the deep brown eyes of his lover all the while.

Dox grinned. "Get up, stud," he said, regretfully breaking free to sit down at the small desk at the side of his bed. "Let's get your homework out of the way." Jason took his usual position sitting on the bed, back propped up on pillows against the headboard. A side benefit of this arrangement, one Dox hadn't bothered to share with Jason, was that their arrangement left his pillows smelling like a smokin' hot football stud. Jason swore up and down that he didn't wear any cologne, just deodorant, but his natural scent was absolutely distinctive. In a room with a thousand men in it, Dox would swear that he could pick out Jason by smell alone. He had begun to hate it when his mother did laundry.

Pulling his backpack closer to him with a heartfelt sigh, Jason unzipped the main compartment and pulled out a thick biology textbook. Flipping through it, he located the chapter on invertebrate zoology and handed it to Dox. "We've got to answer the questions at the back of the chapter."

Dox quietly took a brief look at the material in the chapter, appreciating more and more that Jason wasn't the overly chatty type. "I don't think we'll have much trouble with this chapter," he said, finally. It's the sort of thing you learn easily. Let's save this for last. What's next?"

"Math." Jason groaned. "My nemesis." He handed over the red textbook to Dox, who looked at the dog-eared page.

"Finding the area inside a polygon, huh?" Dox whistled, looking at the material Jason needed to learn to pass the test. "Actually, my friend, this might be easier than you think. Anything else?

"Nothing due tomorrow, but I promised I'd help you work up a workout routine."

"Okay, we'll do that after dinner." Dox decided. "Right now, let's get this math homework out of the way. Now," he said, laying the book down between them and smoothing the pages out with his paw, "Imagine that this big irregular shape is made up of smaller, regular shapes...."

***

"Dinner!"

Working intently on their homework, Dox and Jason had lost track of time until the call from Dox's mother brought them back to reality. Jason's head shot up, startling Dox.

"What's up, hot stuff?"

Jason didn't answer, but his eyes had a look of worry in them that Dox didn't care for. "It's okay, Jason," Dox reassured him, more than a little concerned. "If you don't want to do this, you can just skip dinner and we'll try again when you're up to it."

"You told them I was going to be there, and they're expecting me." Jason said, forcing himself to be rational. These people had raised the nicest pup that he'd ever met. Surely they couldn't be that bad. "How would it look to them if I stood them up?"

It wouldn't be a good start, Dox had to admit, but didn't say that. Jason was shaky enough as it was. He gave his boyfriend the biggest hug he could muster. "What are you so worked up about?" he asked. "They're not going to eat you alive. I love you, and so will they. I'll be right there with you, the way you're always there for me, right?" Dox looked straight into Jason's eyes and waited for an answer.

Jason blew out a nervous breath and said, uncertainly, "Right." His mind agreed with Dox, but his instincts told him something very different. Then he looked down into Dox's eyes and felt the tension drain out of him like water from a cistern. His lips curled up at the ends in a small smile. No matter how they might batter him with questions, Dox was right there to help him make it through. "Right," he said again, this time with conviction. "You're right." It was uncanny how just looking into Dox's eyes for a few moments could calm him down, no matter how worked up he was. "This is just really important to me," he explained, "and I don't want to fu... mess it up."

"You'll do fine," Dox reassured him, giving him a quick kiss before letting go of him and opening his bedroom door.

Jason followed Dox into the kitchen, feeling more vulnerable than he did when facing a top-ranked offensive line under the watchful eyes of a thousand screaming fans. "Good evening," he said, politely, "Thanks for having me over for dinner." Even if it might taste like cardboard, at least it smelled good.

The food Jason had eaten at other people's houses was almost universally disappointing. Although his family might not be well off financially, they ate like royalty. His mother insisted on cooking everything fresh, right down to the vegetables that she grew in their expansive backyard and the bread that she baked, and had managed to spoil Jason for anything less.

"No trouble at all!" Dox's father said, "When we heard that Dox had made a friend on the football team, we were just happy he was breaking out of his shell a little bit." He looked at Jason hopefully, "Any chance he'll be trying out for the team?" He chuckled, almost nervously, waiting to see if Jason would laugh.

It was his version of a joke, and Dox didn't see its humor. To the contrary, felt a familiar resentment building within him. Was he destined to never be good enough unless he played on a god damned sports team?

Jason was rather surprised by Dox's father as well, but he tried to not let his feelings show. He had certainly never expected the man to make snarky comments about his own son.

A bowl of mashed potatoes came his way, and he dutifully took a spoonful. He didn't care for mashed potatoes, anything less than his mother's were almost always the consistency of gruel and about as flavorful, but he would smile and eat them, even if he'd rather be eating wallpaper paste.

Handing the bowl to Dox's dad, he replied, "Dox probably could be on the team if he wanted to, but we're better off with him on the sidelines. Anyone who wants could be on the team, but there isn't one person in a thousand who could make us look as good in the newspaper as Dox does." He leaned over intently, "You've seen his work, right?"

To anyone on the outside, Jason was a big bundle of polite curiosity. But on the inside, he was laughing his furry ass off watching Dox's father backpedal. "Oh, I didn't mean that, of course," he sputtered, denying that he'd just taken a cheap shot at his own son's lack of athletic ability. "We're very proud of what our son has accomplished."

"I'll bet," Jason said, twisting the knife a little bit, and enjoying the effect it was having on Dox's father. "The whole photography class is chasing him." The look in the man's eyes had told Jason everything he needed to know about the relationship between him and his son. No, he wasn't particularly proud of his son's considerable accomplishments. In fact, Jason thought, he probably knew nothing about them. Dox was so shy about telling anyone about his achievements that Jason doubted anyone else at the table was aware of his true talents.

Shifting in his seat, Jason really looked at the walls of the dining room for the first time. "Excuse me, for a moment," he said politely, getting up from his chair and peeking his head into the living room before returning and placing his napkin back on his lap.

Mr. Rayburn looked at him with curiosity. "Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no," Jason answered, "It's just that it's sort of odd. I never really thought about it, but I guess I assumed that you'd have some of Dox's work displayed." He chuckled casually, spooning a big serving of corn onto his plate. "At school, it's all over the place. You just about can't turn a corner without seeing something he was involved in. I think my favorite piece is that twenty-foot long mural that he did for the auditorium." Tactfully, he didn't ask what Dox's father's favorite piece was, because he was positive that he wouldn't know about any of them.

Sensing that he'd made his point, Jason smoothly changed direction. "And he tells me that you used to be an athlete in college?"

"Oh, I used to do my share of damage on the intramural football team" Mr. Rayburn said, working up a good bluster. "Schoolwork took up too much time for me to keep up with it, though."

"Pot roast?" Dox's mother broke in, handing Jason a plate piled high with meat. Another item not on my hit parade, Jason thought, wryly. He'd never eaten a roast beef that wasn't dry and tasteless. Oh well, maybe the wallpaper-paste potatoes would help them slide down his throat. He was thankful that she'd cooked for him, but... why not meatloaf or lasagna, or something?

He politely took two pieces of sliced beef and put them next to the potatoes on his plate. What's next, Brussels sprouts?

The last item in the parade of food was a bowl of gravy. Oh, thank God! Jason thought to himself, liberally spooning the brown gravy over the meat and potatoes. Gravy makes everything better. He hated to be so negative, but experience had provided him with liberal evidence that it was far better to assume the worst, regarding other people's cooking.

Jason waited politely until the others had finished serving themselves, then forked up a tentative bite of his potatoes. Might as well get them out of the way first, he thought, bringing the fork to his lips with no small amount of trepidation. He chewed, and then stopped. He was certain his eyes were bulging a bit.

"What's wrong, Jason?" Mrs. Rayburn asked, concerned. Had a bone found its way into in the gravy, or something equally disastrous?

"Oh, my, God," Jason said, around the potatoes. "These are.... amazing!" He swallowed eagerly, then scooped another forkful of them into his mouth, and then another. He didn't wait for his mouth to clear fully before cramming the next one in. In spite of his furious rate of consumption, he still managed to talk somewhat coherently. "I didn't think I liked mashed potatoes, but these are...these are awesome." He'd almost said, "fucking fantastic", but caught himself just in time. Looking down at his plate, the spot where his potatoes had been was empty, and he felt his ears droop a little bit in disappointment.

"Would you like more?" Mrs. Rayburn asked, dry amusement clear in her voice. "It's rare I have such an appreciative audience."

Glancing at the small amount left in the bowl, Jason felt compelled to decline. How rude would it be for him to gobble up what little remained? Seeing him looking furtively at the bowl, Dox's mother figured out what he was thinking. "That's only half the bowl. There's more in the..."

Jason cut her off before she could even finish. "Yes, please."

Chuckling softly to herself, she scooped together the last remnants of the bowl and plopped it on his plate. "Don't forget the rest of your dinner," she advised, getting up and walking into the kitchen to refill the serving bowl.

Oh. Right. The mashed potatoes had been better than he'd expected, so maybe the pot roast wouldn't be so bad. Without warning, the aroma of the meat hit him. It was like angels from heaven had come down to earth and flown into his nose.

"Jason!" Dox's whisper brought him back to Earth.

Looking up, Jason saw Dox pantomiming wiping his muzzle. Oh, crap. Jason hurriedly lifted his napkin and wiped the drool from his mouth. How embarrassing. He tried to cut the chunk of pot roast on his plate with his knife, but it was no use - it just fell apart at his touch. Using a piece of bread to gather up the chunks of meat onto his fork, he managed to get some up to his mouth without making a fool of himself.

Lord, that was good!. He looked up sharply as Dox kicked him in the shins, then realized that he'd been making that same noise deep in his chest that he did when Dox licked his ears. He'd been purring! Oh, jeez, he'd might as well just take all his clothes off and rub the beef and potatoes all over his body! How humiliating.

Taking control of himself, he cleared his throat, took a sip of water, and said, "Thank you, Mrs. Rayburn. This is very good."

"I'm glad you like it, Jason. It's the least we can do after you've given Dox so much help at school." "I do whatever I can," Jason said, somehow sensing that things weren't what they seemed right now. For some reason, it was beginning to feel warm inside the house, and Jason's collar felt like it was constricting around his neck. "I think I'm getting the better end of the deal, though. Thanks to Dox's help, my grades are higher than they've ever been before."

"He's always done well in school," Mrs. Rayburn said. "And speaking of learning, Dox says that you're teaching him self defense." The coolness in her voice made it a comment rather than a question, and not a very friendly comment, at that.

"I've taught him how to keep people from picking on him," Jason said, choosing his words carefully, "just basic things." Where was this going? he wondered.

Mrs.Rayburn clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "We've always believed that violence doesn't solve anything. If anything, it will eventually make things worse."

Oh, great, Jason thought to himself. She's one of "Those". "I don't mean to be disrespectful," Jason said slowly, "but Dox did it your way through ten years of school, and so far it hasn't worked very well. I think it's time to try something different." How could she maintain such an ignorant, hands-off attitude when Dox's safety was on the line? How oblivious could one woman be, to not see the way her child suffered?

"If someone is bullying you, you should tell your teacher and they'll put a stop to it," Dox's mother said, definitively.

Jason barked a derisive laugh. "The only problem is that the teachers don't want to get involved." Jason told her, forgetting where he was. "They say they can't do anything unless they actually see someone get hit, which never happens, so the abuse continues day after day, and nobody does anything to stop it. How would you like it if someone physically assaulted you every day? How would you feel if the people you had to work with pushed your books out of your hands and laughed at you when you had to pick them up? Or stepped on your tail or your feet, or humiliated you in front of everyone else, and nobody stopped them?"

By this point, Dox's mother had crossed her arms in front of her and was shooting eye beams of death into him. Jason shook his head, sadly, knowing that he was right, but unable to make her see that. "I can't protect him all by myself, and even if I could, it wouldn't be the best thing for him. He's got to know his own strength, and the only way that's going to happen is if he can take what those jerks dish out to him, and then throw it right back in their faces."

"That's not a very civilized way to think." Dox's mother said, her voice dripping with disapproval.

"That's the problem." Jason said, unable to keep his voice completely free of the exasperation he was feeling. "For some reason that I can't understand, you're assuming that the guys who have been using Dox as a punching bag are civilized. They're not! If they were civilized, they wouldn't be picking on Dox in the first place, would they?" Jason almost shouted at her. He was disturbed, he was hot under the collar, and he could feel his temper about to explode within him. This was not good, and he knew that, no matter who he was about to offend, he had to get away from them before his mouth got away from him and caused more damage than it could repair.

Standing up, he politely folded his napkin, bowed slightly to his hosts, and said, in a much more reasonable tone of voice, "Thank you for the meal, Mrs. Rayburn. It was delicious." He might be able to temper his voice, but his anger at her position was still so great that he could not bring himself to look into her eyes.

Turning to shake Dox's father's hand briefly, Jason turned and walked out of their house, leaving nothing but strained silence in his wake.

Stunned, Dox quietly stood up from the table and took his and Jason's plates to the sink, scraped them off, and put them in the dishwasher. Behind him he could hear the clink of utensils on dishes as his parents ate in silence, and underneath that, he could hear the rumble of Jason's car steadily motoring away.

"Dox, " his mother began.

"Would you mind," Dox said quickly, before she could go on, "if we just... " At which point his words failed him. Head hung low, he turned away and trudged back to his room, where he quietly shut the door and lay down on his bed, clutching the pillow that smelled so much like the only person who had ever stood up for him.

What would happen now? Why would Jason ever want to be a part of his crazy, mixed up family? Nobody in their right minds would. When Dox thought about how excited Jason had been to sit down and get to know his family, when he remembered how important it had been to him, how anxious he'd been to make a good impression, tears began to well up in his eyes.

Dox cursed himself as a weak, whimpering little pup, unable to control his emotions. He berated himself to stop, but it didn't work. The tears came despite his best efforts, and he cried into the pillow that smelled so much like the man he had loved, the man who had just walked out of his house and probably out of his life.

Thanks again, Mom.

Jason drove aimlessly, trying desperately to sort out his feelings. He was so incredibly angry at Dox's folks for not doing a damned thing to help him for so many years, but even more, he was angry with himself for flying off the handle like that. He hated himself for not being able to put up a stronger, more rational argument.

The one person he wasn't angry at was Dox, who had just sat there in mute horror as Jason had attacked his parents. Oh, how fucking juvenile Jason felt right then! He pulled into the lot of a small city park and beat his fists on his steering wheel in frustration. Damn, damn, fucking damn his lack of self-control!

Shutting off the car, he ripped the keys from the ignition and got out. He wanted to kick his car, throw his keys, smash his cell phone to the ground - anything horrible to keep him from feeling what he was feeling right now. Three months ago, he would have done any of the three, or maybe all of them, but not today. He now had a much stronger control over his impulses, and he had Dox to thank for that.

When they'd first met, he had thought that he was far stronger than the little dog, but Jason had come to appreciate that Dox wasn't weak at all. In fact, he was far stronger in many ways than Jason could ever hope to be. For years, Dox had been persecuted by the strong, shunned by the popular and ignored by the powerful. Yet he came back for more abuse, again and again, managing to grow a beautiful soul in quiet defiance of those who tried to hammer him down. Watching him shrug off the myriad punishments that the world lavished upon him, Jason couldn't help feeling that his own lack of self control was childish and vain in comparison. Since the day they'd met, Jason hadn't flown off the handle once, a fact that could only be attributed to a small, sable-brown lab with warm brown eyes who showed him a better way. With deliberate care, Jason forced himself to calmly put his car keys in his pocket.

Dox probably hated him for how he'd behaved. Just like a stupid jock again. Whatever Dox saw in him was beyond his comprehension. The food that had seemed so delicious a few minutes earlier now fought to get out. Running to a nearby trash can, he emptied his stomach of everything he'd eaten that evening and more, until dry heaves left him exhausted and sore.

His belly emptied for the second time that day, he walked unsteadily over to a park bench and sat down. The top of the table had carvings from the hundreds of people who had sat there at more pleasant times. Dozens of them were carved by lovers. John loves Sue, DS+SF inside a heart, that sort of thing. In the fading light, he slowly traced the cuts with his foreclaw, wondering if DS and SF were still together.

Sighing, he got back into his car and, with deliberate care, started it and put it in gear. He sat for a moment with the engine idling before reaching up and calmly shutting it off again.

Oh, no, he thought, burying his face in his hands, Oh, Fuck no...

A single tear rolled slowly down his cheek, soon followed by another.

What have I done?