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Neither of us needed to wait long for replies to our job applications. All that the convenience store's manager--a black-furred, potbellied wolf in his late thirties named Randy--wanted to know during the interview process was if I had a drug or alcohol problem, and if I could work the weekends. After saying no to the first question and yes to the second, Randy welcomed me to the 'crew' rather quickly. I started my new clerk job with eager zest.

Jasper meanwhile eventually heard back from not one, not two, but three auto-repair shops he'd applied for. My brother discarded one job offer because the lead mechanic wouldn't give anything other than an internship. The second offer seemed the best, while the third happened to be too far to travel in case of bad weather. By the time he returned from the interview, grinning ear to ear after confirming he got it, we'd already shed our clothes again.

Oh yeah, we started having more sex too. Lots and lots of it.

In fact, sexual intercourse had always been a mutual hobby shared between us besides swimming, watching movies, or exploring. Before getting the replies for our job applications, me and Jasper made up for lost time together that wasn't spent practically homeless. Not counting the temporary motel rooms from earlier, we finally had a place to call our home. An expensive home, mind you, but still a place for us to be ourselves completely.

Thus, we did what all the other couples did in domestic bliss. Behind closed doors, without the fear of classmates or our dad suddenly bursting in, we'd be more than just twin brothers. We would get to be boyfriends, too. Whenever he wanted to, Jasper could slowly, affectionately lick one or both of my sensitive cheeks over and over until I woke and pecked him warmly on the lips. No more worrying about impatient knocks on the door. Whenever I wanted to, I could lie on the couch for hours, cuddling atop my handsome doppelgänger as we watched local news on the discounted TV that he insisted we buy with the credit card.

Luckily for him, I too didn't mind sucking each other's cocks as we watched/listened to a weather forecast with all the blinds closed. If we didn't have them closed yet the coast was literally clear of any peeping toms, I especially loved openly fondling him in front of the TV.

The days blurred together into a week as we gradually encountered neighbors, Beatrice, a prospective future tenant trailing behind her, and even Virgil once or twice. I honestly didn't know what to make of him as our landlord. During our trips up and down the elevator, we caught glimpses of Virgil between his office and addressing noise complaints from the (soon to be) former resident we'd heard drumming next door. The old hare seemed like an enigma. From what the two of us saw though, something in me said Virgil could toss us out the window without blinking. Behind the friendly brown and cream-colored fur wrinkling and blending across his middle-aged face was somebody who didn't tolerate tenants.

One afternoon, Jasper returned to the apartment after a morning shift right as I planned to leave for work. It didn't actually occur to me that I needed to pack myself a lunch until minutes before my shift began, when Jasper burst through the door carrying two bags. One had the two half-gallon containers of milk we just ran out of, but the other...

I groaned exasperatedly. "Not again..."

"What?" He set the bag on our countertop and pulled out a bathroom rug. Another item, a fluffy black towel, could be seen outlined in the plastic bag. "I thought it'd be a nice amenity. The bathroom can be freezing when it's winter, right?"

"It's almost August, not December, dude," I groaned. "Seriously, we--"

"I thought you'd be open to it. Plus, with this," he gestured to the black towel, easily half his size and therefore mine, "we're sharing a big body towel, it's gonna get wet faster. Getting wet faster means putting it through a washing more, and money going down the drain."

"Jasper, it wasn't a desperate need we needed though."

"It's okay, bro. With your paycheck--"

"My first paycheck isn't coming for another ten days, Jasper!" I growled at him and felt my frustration swell. "Now you're out buying stuff that'll keep we're at it, why don't I buy us a pizza dinner or some other useless crap?!"

One second too late, I realized what I said. It wasn't the first time either of us snapped at each other, sometimes over some petty things (I mean, we were still brothers, after all), but the fact I said it out of nowhere didn't justify it.

"Woah, hey," Jasper held up both paws and took a step back. "You're in a mood."

The startled look in my brother's widened eyes, his ears folded back and tail curling, made my frustration melt away. "I'm sorry, Jas. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--"

"No, no, I should be apologizing, bro," he set the bathroom rug aside, then gave an apologetic whine. "I should've asked you first before going out and doing another impulse buy. Good thing ya called me out too, otherwise I'd have decided to buy you a laptop, the newest smartphone, maybe even a luxury hot tub for the bathroom. Woe is me for wanting to be comfortable!"

An eyeroll from me resulted in Jasper erupting out into a small chuckle.

"Well now, don't be such a drama dog," I scratched one of my shoulders as they got used to wearing the tied-on apron. "I shouldn't have snapped at you there, and I sincerely am sorry. I'm just worried we'll be spending more than we can pay."

"The rug cost fourteen-ninety-nine, dude. Plus, we needed another towel," he deadpanned, only to grow an understanding smile when I frowned. As if frivolous spending didn't add up over time. "Look, I agree with you. I'm only spending on the essentials. I'm just saying that I think being a little bit more comfortable is essential."

I raised a finger to say something, only for my words to fall flat. A disbelieving smirk broke through my grimace. Alright. He had me there. Having a bathroom rug would be nice opposed to the tiles. Plus, I did saw we needed another towel. Having a single big one to share did little helping to dry off two eighteen-year-old Dalmatians. Our spotted fur wasn't as thick compared to wolves, but it still needed attention after getting soaked.

"Besides," he offered a reminder as an olive branch, "I'm getting a paycheck soon too. You're not the only one who's gonna be paying the bills, right?"

I tentatively nodded. "Right."

"Tell ya what, why don't I just leave the card here at the apartment?" Jasper proposed while fishing for his wallet, then the credit card in his name. "If there's something big or expensive and essential that we gotta purchase, I'll talk to you first. Deal?"

My eyes traveled down to the credit card, a black and shiny strip of plastic capable of making our lives easier in each purchase. The 'Bank of the States' logo twinkled in the corner besides one of my brother's fingers. Looking back up to see the sincerity in Jasper's expression, fully aware he didn't mean to make me angry, I sighed.

"...okay, it's a deal," I nodded with a mutual grin directed at Jasper.

"I'll put it over here then," Jasper went over to the fridge and grabbed one of the letter magnets--another item he bought from downstairs--and placed the credit card between it and the refrigerator. "We'll both know where it is, and it's in easy reach."

"Works for me, bro," I said. A glance at the microwave's clock had me realizing the time. "I'm off to work. Don't forget to close the door behind you, alright?"

"Wait," my brother stopped me midway through opening the apartment's front door. "You forgot something."

"What's that?" I cocked an eyebrow, turning back to him as he stepped forward.

"It's kinda important," he reminded me, and before I could ask again what he was referring to, the cheeky, greasy Dalmatian planted a loving kiss on my right cheek. "There! Now, you're ready to go."

"Really?" I scoffed playfully. "Well, here's my rebuttal."

My lips pecked his cold nose. He shivered, as did I. Our tail audibly wagged behind us as I pulled back to reach for the door.

"Love you," I whispered. "See you later tonight."

"Love you too," he huskily replied back, "Good luck downstairs!"

I told Jasper I would, tail still swishing madly in residual glee as I waltzed out into the empty hallway and down the curving corridor. Maybe the evening shift wouldn't be so bad.

***

"Wipe off the glass?"

"Check."

"Refill sodas?"

"Done."

"You sure about that?"

"Yes. I'm sure."

As a high school graduate, or rather a high school graduate born and raised in an upper-class home with a neurotic father who could easily purchase whatever you wanted for your birthday, I had very little job experience. My focus had been on getting good grades and attending extracurricular activities after school. Jasper had been the twin more invested in working either retail or as a mechanic's intern.

Thankfully, the manager Randy had been accommodating, as did my coworker Rodney, a rather tall coywolf college dropout whose black-and-tan-speckled ears reached the ceiling.

Anyway, the store itself was no bigger than a family-sized camper, giving me and Rodney not much to do other than a list of menial chores or tasks when not 'interacting' with the customers, if we had any. Even when a customer did stop to visit the inward alcove filled with snacks, newspapers, or a big stack of unbought newspapers, they were always distant or silent.

Rodney happened to reside in the southern far end of the Atlantica building, living on the second floor with his vixen girlfriend of several years who worked as a webcam stripper. No, really. An actual, factual webcam stripper, and the tall, lanky wolf acted as if it were the greatest thing to ever have in a relationship.

"I'm telling you, the money 's raking in is so fuckin' sweet," he casually brought it up as we stood behind the cash register's back counter. During which, an ornery tigress with a cane stopped by to buy the latest paper. "So long as she ain't banging 'em, I actually don't mind letting perverts jack off to her."

"Here's your change, have a good night, and uh, sorry," chuckling nervously, I watched as the tigress left with a disgusted scowl. I glared at my coworker in utter disbelief. "Why do you have to say stuff like that aloud? She's gonna complain to Randy if she gets the chance?"

"What? Mrs. Fitzgerald?" Rodney scoffed. "That old lady's been living in the Atlantica since before me or even the landlord's been born. Worked as a bordello dancer, from what I hear."

I cocked an eyebrow. "A bordello dancer?"

"Yep, a beautiful bordello dancer," he nodded with a wry smirk. "From what I hear, she was a keeper too. Really hot, had big boobs, looked like a trophy wife living in Upper Manhattan. Anyway, Mrs. Fitzgerald, don't worry about saying anything too offensive. That lady's heard much worse things than I could ever say. And I say plenty."

"Fair enough," I shrugged inanely, then rested my elbows on the ugly green countertop. "So, got any other things I should know regarding my neighbors?"

"Not really..." Rodney mindlessly shrugged, then stretched arm. "I've lived my entire life on the Jersey Shore, and everything you've seen about it is true."

"True?" I asked, "How's that?"

"We don't exactly smell like a 'Garden State', for one," he blew a raspberry, not at me but to the empty convenience store itself. "We got bribery and crime for days, too many Manhattanites looking down on us, plenty of sandy beaches, plenty of assholes, the occasional Superfund site, and too much suburbia for my taste."

I let out a whistle. Then, I watched as Rodney checked out a middle-aged Labrador buying a pack of medium-sized condoms, a cheap wine bottle, and a pack of cigarettes. Rodney would later comment that Mr. Degrazzi, despite appearing modest and softspoken, had a reputation for being a dirty old dog. The condoms and wine were for a college student half his age who liked thinking he had more money than he really did.

Rodney returned to his previous position behind the countertop. "So, mind telling me what's true about Crossroads?"

"Crossroads City?" I asked, then immediately felt stupid for even saying that.

"No, I meant Crossroads, Canada," he joked, apparently being on my same wavelength.

I laughed. "Well, it's hot, it's got a big salt lake, too many Mormons for my taste," that earned me a snicker from Rodney, "and some beautiful mountains too. When we were cubs, Jasper and I once went on a field trip to this ski resort. We went sledding, skiing, drank hot chocolate, and hiked too. It's one of the things I'll miss about Utah..."

Most of all though, I would miss going to our mother's grave. Unbeknownst to our dad, me and Jasper held a tradition that started when we got our first driver's licenses. The two of us would secretly go to a certain cemetery and leave flowers there on either her birthday or the anniversary of her death. We probably looked odd, talking to a tombstone by ourselves, yet we never cared. It meant so much to us. Our private conversations helped us emotionally when Dad's outbursts became harsher, more frequent, and it all culminated into coming out to Mom.

By coming out, it meant revealing to her our sexualities and...our love for each other as twin brothers and incestuous lovers. Now, we were two-thousand miles away. Jasper and I weren't too religious, but at the same time, I hoped Mom understood.

"No shit?" My monologue almost caused the half-aloof coywolf to raise an eyebrow at my direction instead of a random magazine he'd been partly reading the previous hour. "A ski resort? Are you and your brother rich kids or something?"

My tail stilled, then began curling slightly.

"We were rich kids," I said almost bitterly. "Heavy emphasis on the past tense."

"Fuck, that's why I barely passed English classes..." Rodney muttered, turning a page and looking back at me for a moment. "So, what? Why'd you and your twin bro suddenly come all the way out here to the Shore? Your dad cut you off or something?"

"You could almost say that," I gulped but didn't falter in composure. "We just wanted to get as far as we could from him. It's a long story...neither of us wanna talk about it though."

"No, no, I can totally understand..." Rodney reassured me, finally looking away from his magazine long enough to look me in the eye. "I get it. Dads can be total cunts."

If I'd been drinking one of the water bottles that Randy provided for us early on, I'd have done a spit take. Instead, I guffawed at the coywolf and burst out laughing. Soon enough, Rodney clutched his stomach and patted my back when I struggled to breathe. If only he knew.

***

As far as uniforms went, the fact I only needed to wear a purple apron instead of an ugly vest made my life easier. It also beat having to purchase unnecessary items because a corporate executive thought it'd be on brand to have either a hat, a vest, or God forbid a series of polo shirts. I could wear whatever shirts I wanted, according to the rules.

Unfortunately, it dawned on me halfway through the shift what it was I forgot to bring downstairs: my dinner. My dinner had been a Tupperware container of leftover ramen and overboiled cut sausage links, plus a banana and can of soda. During my argument with -Jasper, I'd forgotten to grab it from the refrigerator. So, the rest of my evening shift was spent trying to ignore the gnawing growl in my stomach while performing my clerk duties. Try doing that while being surrounded by junk food.

Rodney's shift ended five minutes before nine, leaving me to lock up. By then, the convenience store could no longer sell alcohol due to local ordinances. Coincidentally, that was also when hard drinkers liked to try purchasing them the most, from what I later learned.

The evening shift I'd been given would go on until midnight, followed by a mid-morning shift starting at 10:00 the next day. My night had been wrought with little drama, but it did leave me bored, wanting to have a decent meal, a nice hot shower, possibly a good fuck with Jasper if time allowed it, followed by the warm bed and warm embrace of my twin as we slept.

Speaking of whom, my last customer of the evening arrived ten minutes before the end of my shift, smelling like grease and car oil under his coat. The smile he directed at me from the store's entrance suddenly made me almost feel like I could work for another hour. Well, almost.

"Hey there, sweetie," he looked left and right and towards his wagging tail before stepping towards me. "Wanna give me a tour of the backrooms?"

"Cameras," I quickly informed him. "There's a camera in here. In the back too. That one's got audio to go with the video."

He skidded to a halt, then sighed as he leaned back and stretched a bit. During that, my belly growled for the dozenth time that night. The equally tired Dalmatian heard it too.

"In that case, I'd like to buy something," Jasper pulled out a crumpled twenty-dollar bill from his pocket, grinning at me. "Some limo driver decided to gimme a tip for my job well done. You want a sandwich?"

"Yes," I gave a thankful nod, feeling my stomach growl further. "I'd love one..."

The sandwich and a glass of milk felt good after I scarfed them down, and the shower upstairs make me yearn for bed again. Of course, that depended on if me or Jasper could gather enough strength for a midnight snacking...of each other.