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High school life was a relatively dull affair for me, though I hadn't yet completed it; two more years, at least. I wasn't one of the popular kids, and certainly not one of the jocks, but I wasn't one of the "losers" either, who unfortunately got picked on most every day. I was on that boring cusp between the two extremes, happily so, where I was neither well-liked nor bullied. With no special talents, I managed to blend in with the crowd, going about my humdrum routine with that sort of cattle-like mentality, mindlessly weaving through the mass of students as I trekked from class to class.

I did have friends in high school, of course, not many but a small, select group of individuals whom I cherished deeply. If not for them, high school thus far would have been far duller, and dare I say, a wholly shitty experience. They were the ones, if no one else, who helped me blend in with the others, keeping me just below the radar of bullies and jocks. But they also helped me deal with more important things, like coping with my wild, teenaged emotions.

Like most other students, I never had a firm grasp of who I really was. Most teenagers think they know, or pretend they know, but myself, though I searched for some sort of identity, one never truly came to me. I felt like I was attracted to both girls and guys, a fact I had a hard time understanding, while at the same time having almost no interest in them. I recognized an attractive (and unattractive) male or female, and admittedly touched myself at the thought on more than one occasion, yet that desire to actually be with them was never really there. I couldn't explain it, and like many problems teenagers faced, that was one I found difficult to bring up with my friends.

Am I gay? I'd ask myself. Am I straight? Like many things, I didn't know, not truly. I'd had an unusual attraction to boys since before junior high, and to girls, too. But with everyone around me pairing off and finding who they thought would be their soul mates, I was always left alone, often by choice. It didn't make me sad, or anything, just...confused. Was I somehow different from them, even the ones who were considered different?

I didn't know any gay guys, or rather, I didn't know any personally. I knew some when I saw them, and figured there were many and more than I realized. They seemed happy enough, and always seemed to be paired with someone, too. It almost made me wish I knew one of them, like that tall, skinny Doberman who always smiled at me. Not to date him, of course, but just to gather some sort of insight. Perhaps he could even help me discover my sexuality, having a bit more authority on the matter.

Now, don't get me wrong. As a confused, somewhat repressed sixteen-year-old highschooler, I did have my desires. They perhaps weren't as strong as others', but on the rare occasion I did want sex. In a world where it felt like everybody was having sex, I was if nothing else, naturally curious. I sometimes found myself daydreaming about it at home (and sometimes in class), fantasizing more about male partners than with female, though they did sometimes appear. I always had a hard time imagining just how it would feel, though, figuring it was more than what I managed to achieve with just my paw.

My friends had all had sex, the three of them, all with girls. They were straight, without a doubt, and offered little insight into my own problems. But they were supportive all the same, save Chase who seemed compelled to get me laid. But I loved him all the same, probably because I'd known him since we were in kindergarten together. Though we were close to our mutual friends Matt and Vic, who we'd both met in grade nine gym class, truly Chase was my best friend. I told him most all my secrets, problems, feelings, and even goofy stuff that never really mattered, and I felt confident he did the same with me.

I often wondered if Chase knew I felt differently than most the other boys. Whenever he brought up a girl he liked, or a girl he thought I'd be good with, I had a tendency to avoid the subject. We knew each other well enough where I wouldn't be shy around him, and if pressed I always denied him. In truth, it was becoming quite tiring coming up with excuses as to why I couldn't date whoever he suggested. They were always attractive enough, though, but that desire wasn't there. I just...didn't want them. Or even the attractive boys they were with. Several times he had asked me if I was gay, asking in jest, but I could never quite answer him. At least, not truthfully, and not without blushing slightly.

I wanted to tell him, to explain it all, yet despite being best friends, I had a strange apprehension about it. He wasn't homophobic, either, which I only knew because his lab partner was the aforementioned Doberman, who he enjoyed working with a lot. I suppose it was because I was so uncertain myself, I felt like if I told him there would be no going back. That was silly, of course, but teenagers were nothing if not exceptionally silly.

When it all boiled down to it, though, I wouldn't really be admitting to Chase I was gay, because I didn't really classify myself as such. The closest I could come was bisexual, but even then, my problem wasn't entirely within that aspect of my life. My problem was my lack of desire. I know it sounds contradictory, given I already admitted to wanting sex, but I think it was more the individuals I had no desire for. I wanted sex, yes, just...not with them. With a male, sure. With a female, why not? But I just could not seem to find any male or female I wanted to be with.

"How about that one?" asked Chase during our lunch hour. We four sat at our usual spot close to the doors of the cafeteria, at the end close to the wall and sharing the long table.

With my head resting on my arms in front of me, on the table, I gazed to up and to my left to watch a tall collie walk past. She didn't even notice me, which suited me just fine. I sighed quietly, turning back toward Chase. My brown, floppy ears slid across the tabletop as I turned my head. "I don't think so," I answered unenthusiastically.

"Why not?" the dingo asked surprised. Matt and Vic were checking her out, too; Matt had a girlfriend, but it never stopped him. Vic couldn`t keep his eyes off.

I shrugged. "Because."

"God, I really don't get you, man." Chase finally plopped himself back into his orange, plastic seat and continued eating the casserole he'd brought from home. It looked cold. "I mean, this school's full of good-looking girls, you've just gotta ask 'em out." Luckily Chase was talking away from me, otherwise I'd be wearing half his lunch.

I'm just not interested, I wanted to say, but I kept quiet. Meanwhile, Vic began about some party he was invited to, an open-invitation party which he was currently extending to us. Matt was eager, though he admitted he'd have to ask his girlfriend, and though I tried my best to ignore it, Chase was begging me to go. Like usual, he was telling me these kinds of parties were ripe for finding girls, but my answer would most likely be the same.

In all fairness, though, in general I didn't much like parties. I wasn't particularly anti-social, but they tended to be loud and drunken, an event I always felt far more comfortable avoiding. In most cases, it had nothing to do with avoiding Chase or Vic introducing me to as many girls as they could find, but more to do with the crowds. Plus beer disgusted me. I had no problems with underage drinking, not that I did it very often, it was just beer I couldn't stand. Though strangely, I always seemed to end up with one every time I did go to one of those parties.

"So you in?" my vulpine friend asked me. Vic was an arctic fox, short but fit. And not one of those pumped up short guys who can best be described as "body-building elves." Vic was well-proportioned, and by far the most intelligent of the four of us. He spent a great deal of time studying, probably because his parents were overbearing and strict, and despite his often geeky appearance, he was always one of the first to find out about these parties. How he found out I would never know, since most girls found his shockingly foul, sexual jokes and filthy humour nothing less than repulsive.

"I dunno," I said, finally lifting my head off the table.

"Why not?" asked the fox. "Syl's going to be there. God, if I just had ten minutes alone with her..."

"You know I don't like going to parties," I argued, probably for the hundredth time that year.

"You're never going to meet someone if you stay cooped up in your room playing games all day. You've got to get out, man, and live. Christ, you can't stay at home forever."

I frowned.

"Leave him alone, Vic," said Matt, the Rottweiler. Not quite a jock, Matt enjoyed playing sports and was on a few teams, but football was not among them. Football was by far the school's most popular sport, and we were apparently the best at it in the whole district, but Matt loved more the so-called lesser sports, like rugby and soccer. He wasn't too bad at it, either. "When he's ready to date, he'll date."

Thanks, I almost said, but was stopped by Chase before I could open my maw.

"You've got to come, Donovan," he said as he slapped the table with his paw. "For once in your damn life, come out and have some fun."

I pushed back my ears. "I do have fun."

"Yeah," he rolled his eyes, "Skyrim's fun, I agree. But I mean real fun. With people. Like, actual people. You know, me, Matt, Vic. Some chick you're into."

I'm not into anyone. I sighed heavily and turned away, just as the Doberman whose name always seemed to slip my mind walked past. He glanced at me and smiled as he often did, but this time I just gazed back until he was obscured by dozens of other students. I sighed again, but internally.

"God damn it, Donovan." Chase was frowning at me, while Matt seemed indifferent and Vic was distracted by a lioness wearing a push-up bra.

"Fuck me sideways," sighed Vic, pushing up his glasses. Though I knew him well, I still found it odd that one of the brightest students in the whole school was so...perverted.

"I'm sorry," I said, shrugging. "Why do we always have to have this discussion every time you want to go to someone's house and get drunk?"

"Because you never come with us," countered the dingo. It wasn't much of an argument , but I got his point.

"I've gone out before, and I didn't enjoy it. Plus beer is nasty." An even weaker argument.

Vic just scoffed, apparently back into the conversation now. Matt, fortunately, was taking time out to eat his sandwich. "You just have to bring your own booze, man. I can totally make you a fake ID, you know. Pretty simple, if you know what you're doing." I didn't doubt for a second that Vic knew what he was doing.

"Next you'll tell me to steal the money. No, wait, no. You'll tell me to just print my own."

The arctic fox scoffed again. "Please. Counterfeiting money is so much harder than driver's licences. Do you even know what sort of security features these bills have these days?" He said "these days" as if he knew what security features they had in the old days.

"Why don't you buy your own booze?" I tried to argue, clearly losing the fight. I didn't need to point out loud that Vic's parents, and by extension Vic, were rich, and could afford any type of booze in any quantity.

"Because I like the taste of beer, Donovan. Of course there are finer beers out there than you probably realize, but even the cheapest have their charms. You don't need to spend a fortune to get a chick drunk." Part of me suspected Vic watched way more TV than I knew with some of the things he said. The fox had never been to bar, though he talked as if he went out every weekend.

Both Vic and Chase were staring at me, and Matt was sort of gazing toward my general direction as he chewed his food. I sighed yet again. "I hate all of you," I grumbled, shrinking into my shoulders in submission.

"Ha!" cried Chase, slapping his paw on the table in victory. "I knew you'd change your mind," he said happily. "I promise you, it'll be great."

"I'm sure."

At long last our lunch was over and I continued on with the monotony of high school. Math class was next, and the worst of them all. It was boring, and I was no good at it. I mean, I got it, for the most part, the formulae and so forth, but when it came to memorizing all of them and applying them to various questions, I always seemed to fall short. Or short enough where passing was just barely possible.

I had four classes that semester. Math was fourth period, right after lunch, and I had English and Ancient History first, respectively. Those were good classes, interesting. I did well in English, and enjoyed reading and writing more than most of my classmates, though I found History to be the most fascinating. All it really was, was memorizing facts and dates, something I wasn't as skilled at as I should have been. I loved learning about ancient cultures and architecture and so forth, but if you asked me when something-or-another was built, chances were pretty good I wouldn't remember. I'd remember learning it, but the date itself was gone.

Anyway, my final class was Gym class, not a bad way to end the day. It wasn't one of my favourites, but if you participated enough it was impossible to get less than ninety. And frankly, running around while pretending to play basketball was all it took to participate. Despite that, I was hardly the most athletic kid in the school, and I was far from one of the jocks. I didn't play any extracurricular sports, and didn't really want to. But I did enjoy the exercise of Gym, for what it was worth, though you wouldn't necessarily know it looking at me.

I wasn't obese or anything, far from it. I had a bit of a belly, I suppose you'd say, probably from my lifestyle of junk food and videogames, but otherwise I had nothing to complain about. My brother constantly told me if I got out more or worked out or ate healthier, I'd have no problems getting a great-looking body. Apparently our family was naturally athletic, or so my brother insisted, and I was "wasting a good thing." But I was happy with who I was and what I looked like, and though my brother sometimes teased me, I knew he didn't really care.

By the time Gym class rolled around, I was thoroughly mathed-out, my brain having had enough quadratic functions and equations for the day. The so-called uniform for gym was a boring grey t-shirt and shorts, the t-shirts given to us by the school. The shirt itself wasn't far from what I usually wore, though I tended to have videogame references on mine. The class started with running around for a while, then some general exercises like push-ups and such, then we played basketball again for the third day in a row, which truthfully I was getting tired of.

But finally even Gym class ended, and after telling Vic I wasn't sure yet about the party, which irritated Chase to no end, I began home. It was a forty-five minute walk or so, depending on how fast I moved, and because my friends lived in different parts of the city, I had to walk home alone.

I didn't mind the long walk, though, nor having to do it by myself. Though my parents mostly left me alone at home, the forty-five minute walk was like a tiny slice, or a small moment in time that was truly, completely for me. Alone time, just me and my music. It gave me time to think, though there usually wasn't much to think about, or at the very least, allowed myself to become totally comatose and serene for just a short while. Matt thought I was crazy, walking so much - despite his athletic prowess - and didn't really get my desire for alone time. No matter what was happening in my life, whether I had a lot of homework or my parents were fighting or something, in those forty-five minutes, none of it mattered. While I walked home, there was nothing I could do about any of my problems, and so I could enjoy it to its fullest for as long as it lasted.

Fortunately, I wasn't currently having any problems in my life, despite my confused sexuality, and so the walk home was nothing if not just time to enjoy my music uninterrupted. And much to my surprise, I saw my brother was home for now, his car parked in our driveway.

"Hey, Donny!" he greeted me as I walked in. He was standing in the kitchen in shorts and a basketball jersey, probably making a snack for himself. He came toward the kitchen's entrance and stood in the doorway. "How was school?"

I couldn't help but give my older brother a smile. "It was okay," I said as I swung my backpack off my shoulders. "Y'know," I shrugged, "same old."

Joel smiled. "Yeah, guess so." Then he turned around and went back to what he was doing, and I followed him up the stairs. My brother was eleven years older than me and had long since moved out, when I was only nine. He worked full time as a game tester, and had been for a few years, a job I was insanely jealous of.

"What're you making?" I asked him curiously. He didn't answer me, but as I peered over his shoulder I saw it was just a peanut butter sandwich. "What're you doing home, anyway?"

Joel turned his head a bit and glanced at me past his big floppy ear. "What, I'm not allowed to come home once in a while and enjoy time with my family? Maybe I came to see you, Donny."

I couldn't imagine what he would want to see me for. For now, I just sat at the small table in the kitchen, pulling a stool out from under it. "Where's mom and dad?"

"Dad called a minute ago and said he'd be late, and mom's out grocery shopping. Seems all you guys have left to eat is stale bread and peanut butter."

"What're you really doing home?"

At last Joel finished making his sandwich. He cut in it half, diagonally as always, and turned around, leaning back on the counter. He took a big bite, and let his muscular arms rest. He had probably just gotten back from a run, which he said he did most every day, since the faint smell of beagle-sweat was still lingering. Plus he didn't tend to wear sporty clothes unless he was working out or just got out of bed.

"I'm just visiting," said Joel. He took another bite. "Plus there's a game this side of town. And I have laundry to do..."

I held out my paw, and though reluctant, my brother relinquished the other half of his sandwich. "This bread really is stale," I complained, eating it anyway.

Suddenly I heard the front door open and bags rattling noisily about, and a bit of mild cursing. "Donovan!" I heard my mother shout, which set my fur on end. "God damn... Move your bag! Joey, come get the groceries."

My brother and I shared a glance, shoved the rest of our food in our maws and hurriedly left the kitchen, with just enough time to hear my mother drop four bags of groceries and grumble as she went out to get some more. Dutifully, Joel picked up the heavy bags, while I stole a guilty glance at his strong arms, then I grabbed my bag. Without a second thought, I stomped down the stairs before my mother could yell at me some more and burst into my room.

My room was dark, crowded, and always messy. I kept my computer in here, and of course all my things. Unfortunately there wasn't enough room for my other game consoles, which were across the hall, in the rec room. After throwing my bag down, I sighed quietly and turned on my computer, checking my email and facebook with about as much interest as I had with my math work that same day. Hardly satisfied with my otherwise boring life, I gave my belly a scratch and went straight for my xbox, where excitement awaited.

After about an hour of slaying dragons and shouting my way across the mountainous lands of Skyrim, my brother came into the room and stood behind the couch to watch me for a while. When the dragon was finally dead and its soul absorbed, I paused the game and craned my head around.

"What's up?" I asked him. He still hadn't changed his clothes.

"Nothing," he said, giving my head a vigorous rub. "I've got practice shortly. Wanna come?"

I glanced back at my paused game, then back up at Joel. I didn't really want to go, but I got to spend so little time with him when he was home, which was never often. "Uhh," I said, stalling for time. The "practice" Joel was talking about was lacrosse practice, which he played recreationally, but wasn't really part of any serious league. Most just played for the fun of the sport, my brother included. Apparently he was urged by many of his teammates and even his coach to get into it more professionally, but he wasn't interested. I couldn't imagine why.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," smiled my brother. "Your game is more important than family, I understand."

I frowned, then sighed. "I hate you."

"I'll buy you dinner afterwards, how about it?"

I thought about it for a moment longer, but finally agreed. "Okay, but I get to pick the place." I then saved my game and helped my brother carry his stuff out to his car, which I shoved into the back seat unceremoniously. The drive to Exhibition Park was a short one.

The park was a large stretch of city-owned land with an indoor hockey rink on one end, followed by a big baseball diamond and soccer fields, while the other half was a more parky area with trees and a playground and paths. Surrounding the park were old, small homes, built closely together and the streets were tight, but it was a nice neighborhood. My high school was only a few blocks away.

Still wearing his shorts, I sat in the bleachers as I watched Joel (and the rest of the team) quickly pull their gear from their bags and put it on. Joel took off his top first, revealing a very smooth, muscular body, then put a different sort of tank top on over top his pads, which showed his team's colours - purple and white. Soon enough the others were ready and the coach already had them running laps with their sticks in paw. I sighed quietly and tried to get comfortable.

There were a few others nearby watching the team practice, gazing on with about as much excitement in their eyes as I had. They appeared to be wives or girlfriends, and possibly some boyfriends for all I knew. I didn't spend a great deal of time watching the onlookers, finding they were even more boring than the players.

When the team began practicing throwing, or so it appeared, I pulled out my iPhone and began a game of Angry Birds. I managed to only beat three levels, though, before I tired of it, and now it seemed the lacrosse players were having a scrimmage. I couldn't tell who was winning, the purple shirts or the white. I just shrugged and started a game of Fruit Ninja until I bored of that, too, then finally practice was over. I at last got up and joined my brother on the sidelines, just as he ripped his helmet off.

"Who won?" I asked, paws in my pockets.

Joel shook his head, beads of sweat flying all over the place. "No one was keeping track," he admitted. The fur on his head was spiked and damp, and even from a couple feet away I could smell the warm, musky scent of beagle wafting toward me. Didn't help I was standing downwind. "It was a good practice, though."

He then shoved his gloves and elbow pads into his bag, then removed his top. I just gazed at his muscular body, half hidden by his shoulders pads and dripping with sweat. I then glanced up at him when I realized he'd stopped, and I began to blush.

"You okay?" he laughed, finally undoing a few straps. He pulled the pads up over his head and reached into his bag for a towel, patting himself dry.

"I'm fine," I said, turning away. "Where are we gonna go for dinner?" The sun was already beginning to set, and my stomach was growling.

"Wherever you want," my brother suggested as he put his basketball jersey back on, the green one he'd worn to practice. He threw a light grey hoodie on over it, but didn't zip it up. "No where fancy," he smiled, gesturing toward his attire.

I chuckled, and when he had all his gear packed up, we were off. I'd decided upon something less than healthy - McDonalds - which I hadn't had in ages. Or so it felt. It had probably only been a couple weeks. We had to drive for only five minutes before coming up to one, and we got drive-thru anyway. I ordered my usual Big Mac, while Joel opted for a boring chicken sandwich of some kind.

"So how's school going?" Joel asked, parked near the edge of the parking lot. "Getting good grades?"

I shrugged, then shoved a fry in my mouth. "I guess. I'm not failing anything, anyway."

"Got a girlfriend yet?"

I blushed. "Naw," I answered. "I'm...I dunno. Not really, no." More than just Joel's stink (plus the smell of our food) was making me uncomfortable. I never told Joel much about sexuality either, or the confusion I'd found myself with.

"Either you do or you don't, Donny."

"I don't. But, like... I mean, I'd like one, y'know? Or..." I couldn't seem to push the rest out.

"Or..? Or what? Or not?" He took another bite of his sandwich.

"Or...maybe... Maybe not a girl..?" I was blushing even more now, heart pounding. I didn't know what I was so worked up about, because I knew Joel would be fine with it. Still, this was the first time I'd ever admitted it out loud to anyone.

"Oh really," said my brother with a smirk. "You like guys, eh?"

"Well..." I let out a breath. "Yeah, at least, I think I do. I'm pretty sure. I've never told anyone that before."

"Well you know you can talk to me, Donovan. I know I'm not around much, but I'm your older brother. It's my job to be there for you."

"Thanks..." I gave Joel a quiet smile, then sighed. I shoved a few more fries into my mouth to distract from some of the awkwardness. "There's not really anyone I'm interested in, though," I added.

"Oh? Why not?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. Just haven't met that one, y'know? Seems all the guys at school are straight, or just aren't interested in me. None of the girls are."

"Well, you'll meet somebody, Donny, I know you will." Joel then rubbed my back, though it was awkward still sitting in the car.

"There's this party Chase wants me to go to tomorrow night, but I'm not sure. I'm not really into parties and stuff. I'd rather just sit at home and do nothing."

"You mean sit at home and play videogames."

I frowned.

"Well, you wouldn't be telling me this if you didn't want me to persuade you into going, right?"

My stomach turned and I blushed some more. I never liked feeling so vulnerable, and Joel always seemed to know just what I was thinking, even when I didn't. "I guess."

"Well I think you should, Donny. You're a great kid, though you could use to lose a few pounds." My cruel brother then pinched my chubby left side, as if to remind me I wasn't in as amazing shape as he was.

"Shut up," I barked, pushing his paw away. Joel just laughed at me.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm just bugging you, buddy. Seriously, I think you should go. You spend way too much time cooped up in your room, and don't you even try to deny it. Thing with these parties is, you never know who's going to come. Could be someone from another school, or even friends of kids from other towns. When I was in high school, they didn't have facebook and all that, so you can easily keep in touch with anyone you meet, so don't even think about using that as an excuse. You've got it easy, kid, and frankly, you aren't so hard on the eyes. You could get anyone you want, you've just got to open up a little, and get out a little."

I sighed quietly, took a bite of my burger, then peered out the window. Joel was right, of course, and even if I didn't meet that special someone, I could at least say I tried. Besides, I was definitely not going to meet him (or her) playing Skyrim all night. "I guess you're right."

"Atta boy," said my brother, giving my shoulder a gentle rub. We both finished up our dinner in silence and Joel drove us home.

When we got in, I went immediately downstairs, followed by Joel carrying his equipment bag, and turned on the xbox. I sighed as the start up logos appeared, watching from the corner of my eye as Joel unpacked his bag.

First came his shoulder pads, which were much lighter and smaller than football pads, and hung them on a set of wooden poles and pegs designed specifically for hanging and drying out hockey equipment, despite Joel's being for lacrosse. He threw his elbow pads on two opposite pegs, then the gloves on the ends. He placed his helmet on top as if it was a mannequin, then placed his stick aside. Next he pulled out the purple top and placed it over one peg, then suddenly I watched him whip off his shorts, which matched the top. Beneath he was wearing only a jockstrap, mostly white save the logo around the waistband, and of course it had a cup inside.

I blushed intensely as he removed his shorts, and as his paws moved to remove the jock I turned my eyes away quickly, unfortunately moving my head a bit as I did. I blushed even more as the image of my brother's next-to-naked body was seared into my mind, and even more so at the image of his jockstrap.

What the fuck? I thought to myself, paws and back sweaty. I tried my best to ignore what was happening behind me by starting my game, but all I could think of was my extremely athletic brother and his extremely nude body. For what felt like forever, I moved my Skyrim character around aimlessly, almost pretending to play as I listened intently to the noises behind me, wanting to turn around just to see if he was done, but not wanting to see that again. Suddenly Joel appeared in my vision, fully clothed in a plain tshirt and old worn jeans, and I couldn't help but glance up at him. I was still blushing like crazy.

"What's up?" I asked him as best I could. I feared I may have shown signs of nervousness in my voice, but I did my best to cover it up. I cleared my throat in hopes of disguising any awkwardness.

"Nothing," he said, giving me a queer look as he walked past. He sat on the couch along the wall, which sat adjacent to mine, and he had a laptop in paw. He opened it up and turned it on, giving me a strange glance as he went to whatever he was doing, and I continued playing my game.

That night I went to bed, unable to think of much else but my brother. "What the fuck was that?" I whispered to myself. I'd never seen my brother nude before, or next to nude, but I'd seen him topless dozens of times. But I'd never had that sort of immediate reaction to seeing him than I did when he was getting changed. I felt myself blushing just at the thought, and strained myself trying to figure out why. He's my brother, I thought. Of course I'd react like that if I saw him naked. Who wouldn't? Why the hell did he just start undressing himself, anyway?

Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep that night. It was restless to say the least, and I didn't want to get up even more so than usual. But eventually I was pried out of bed and kicked out the door. My brother offered to drive me to school, but I declined him as politely as I could.

The whole day when by in a complete haze, thoughts of Joel constantly on my mind between Chase and Vic showing me more girls to date and begging me some more to come to the party. They at last left me alone when I promised to go that night, then the rest of my day continued in a horribly boring blur. At least Gym class took my mind off my brother, strangely since there was more sports gear and jockstraps around than anywhere else I went to.

But at last I got home again, sighing heavily as I threw my backpack onto my bed. I had to think about what to wear, not really having any nice clothes. My wardrobe consisted mostly of jeans and cargo pants, the former much more abundant, and various t-shirts ranging in dorkiness, from subtle dorky to incredibly dorky. My favourite t-shirt was my World of Warcraft one, but I wasn't sure it was good for the party. I had a bunch of t-shirts with comic characters (or their logos) on them, but didn't think that'd be good either. Of course, there wasn't a whole hell of a lot else for me to wear, so I figured whatever fit me well would be my best option. Apparently the party started at six, so I had a couple hours to figure it out.

For now I played on the xbox for a bit, until my mother reminded me I had to start getting ready. Getting ready really just involved changing into a nicer pair of jeans, which fit somewhat tightly around my hips but fell looser around my footpaws, and a snug black t-shirt that said Macbeth on it, which I got because it was my favourite Shakespeare play. But when I tried to find my cell phone, I realized it wasn't in the usual spots. With a quiet curse, I stormed upstairs in search.

It wasn't in the kitchen or the living room, the two most likely of the unlikely spots for it to be in, and I didn't even bother checking in the dining room, at least not yet. I poked my head into the bathroom and cursed again, running back downstairs to see if I had just somehow missed it. When I ran back up, my parents asked me what I was doing, to which I responded with a growl and some words somewhat resembling an answer.

"Joel!" I cried as if I was nine years old again, then went to his room. When I burst in, I got a sudden fright as I watched him pull up his pants, shirt still beside his bed. "Shit," I suddenly cried, blushing brightly and turning around. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Joel responded quietly. He did up his belt and just stood there topless. "What is it?"

"I, uh..." I then turned around, unintentionally looking at his well-built body before our eyes met. "I can't find my phone. Have you seen it?"

He shook his head. "Are you all right? You've been acting strange lately. I'd usually chalk it up to teenaged awkwardness, but you seem to be getting worse." I couldn't tell whether or not Joel was just teasing me, but I chose not to answer his question.

"Where are you going?" I asked, feeling calmer the further onto his body his shirt slid. Joel was wearing a nice pair of black pants, the kind you might wear to a funeral, with a black belt I hadn't seen before. And once it was buttoned up and tucked in, I saw he was also wearing a black dress shirt, the sleeves of which he rolled up to his elbows. He looked far different than he had yesterday, or even this morning, all sweaty and stinky and wearing sporty clothes. He looked half way to respectable, and even more so when he put on a dark-coloured waistcoat, blue but it looked almost black.

"I'm going out with the team, for dinner and drinks. We usually go after the game, but because Coach has some appointment with his attorney the next morning, he said we best go out before the game, or go without him."

"So why didn't you just go without him?"

Joel sighed quietly and buttoned up his waistcoat. He looked very handsome. "Because we're a team, and blah, blah, blah. Plus he's paying."

I smiled. "Oh. I'm going out tonight, too, but I probably won't have as much fun as you."

Joel looked me up and down. "You're going like that, huh?"

I frowned. "Yeah. I don't have any nice clothes."

My brother just shook his head at me, but smiled all the same. "Try looking next to the phone," he said. "The regular phone. I thought I saw it there earlier."

"Thanks, Joel," I said, then left quickly. Though I had to lift a piece of paper, I did find my phone exactly where I was told to look. And just in time, since I had just gotten a text on it.

Hurry up, beagle, said the text. We R goin 2 B l8. Then I heard a horn honk, and knew it was for me. I ignored my parents telling me to hurry as I grabbed my hoodie from the banister and burst out the door.

I got into the back seat of Vic's car, a car his parents bought him for getting all A's first semester. In just a short while, Vic drove Chase, Matt and I across town to a large house near a small suburb called Clair Hills, named for the level ground it sat upon. Before we even exited, I already heard the loud, booming bass of the crappy techno music our gracious host was playing. Quickly Vic parked, howled at a group of scantily-clad girls, and together we got out.

With my entourage, the four of us sauntered up to the front door, which was apparently stuck open, as if we were guests of honour. Vic was greeting all sorts of people rather raucously as we approached the door, and soon enough the music was blasting through my poor, floppy ears as we entered the house.

As usual, I felt extraordinarily uncomfortable with so many people around, many of them standing about talking over the music to one another, others dancing poorly. I stayed close to Chase as he greeted several classmates, having nothing to say but listened as best I could to the conversations, adding one or two words here and there when required.

In less than an hour, I'd found myself holding onto a beer with no recollection of ever receiving it. I tried a sip just in case my tastes had changed overnight, but was sadly let down. I wrinkled my nose at the foul taste, yet I felt oddly comfortable holding it, as if it helped me blend in. Chase, as usual, introduced me to some girls he thought I'd like, one of them even enjoying videogames as much as I did.

I missed her name, but we talked for a short while about Skyrim, then about a few older games we'd recently acquired. But once that was all said and done, neither of us had much to say to one another. We stood around for a short time in awkward silence until thankfully one of her friends spotted her and saved her from me, and I was eternally grateful. Chase of course scolded me, but tried again to no avail. I sighed and managed to find a spot to sit down somewhere away from the stereo, which was still pumping out that horrid music.

"Hey," I suddenly heard, which made me look up. Much to my surprise, that gay Doberman who always smiled at me was standing before me, beer in paw. "Didn't expect to see you here," he said over the music.

I shrugged. "Chase somehow convinced me to go. Not really my thing, though."

The tall, thin Doberman laughed. "I see that. You, uh, wanna get outta here? It's pretty loud in here."

"Yeah," I said quickly, eager to get away. I followed the Doberman through the house, not really sure where I was going, until I found myself outside and in the backyard. "My ears'll be ringing all night," I said with a nervous laugh, though thankfully the music was dulled.

The Doberman shut the sliding glass door that led into the kitchen, which helped immensely. It was quiet out, and though the suburb was close by, dozens of stars were out. Whoever owned this house had a pool, too.

"So, uh, did Chase invite you?" I asked. The only thing I knew about the Doberman was he was gay, which I think everybody knew, and he was Chase's lab partner.

He nodded his head. The Doberman was wearing clothes not unlike my brother's, though he had a nice red shirt on with a black waistcoat, and though I didn't get a close look, I thought I saw a pocket watch. On his wrists he also had a bunch of jewellery, as well as a chain around his neck and a few earrings in his right ear, plus one on the left side of his lower lip. When he gave his neck a quick scratch, I saw he wore a ring on his middle finger, silver it looked like.

"You two seem close," stated the Doberman. I still didn't know his name.

"Yeah, we've been friends since we were little. Um. Well my name's Donovan." I stuck out my paw.

The Doberman smiled and grabbed it quickly. "Blake," he said, and we shook a few quick times. "I've seen you around school a lot, almost always with Chase. You, uh... You look good tonight."

I blushed. "Thanks. So do you." His waistcoat fit snugly around his this waist, showing off his figure. "I like your earrings..." I felt like I was screwing this up before it even began.

Blake smiled a bit wider. "Yeah, thanks, I got them a year ago. You have any?"

I shook my head. "Naw, not really my thing. I don't mind piercings, but I dunno. Don't really like pain that much, I guess."

Our small talk continued for what felt like hours, though if I counted the amount of tracks that played, it was probably only ten or fifteen minutes. Though it was a shaky start, the two of us managed to find a few things in common. Though Blake was interested in fashion and fashion design, which didn't surprise me, he also played a few videogames from time to time, admitting he was addicted to Skyrim like every other gamer out there. We managed to talk about that for a lot longer than I had with that girl Chase introduced me to, discussing the amusing yet sometimes annoying dialogue by city guards. Several times in our conversation Blake touched me, nothing crazy, but just some light strokes or gentle squeezes on my arm or shoulder.

After a while, I found my beer had somehow emptied itself, either from my spilling it as I impersonated Skyrim characters, or I was actually drinking it throughout the night. Either way, I put the cup down next to Blake's, who had finished his a while ago and as our conversation broke for a moment, he just smiled at me.

"You're a pretty great guy," said Blake as he touched my arm again. Surprisingly, I heard a bit of trembling in his voice.

I blushed, noticing him move closer to me. My heart skipped a beat, quickly realizing his paw was still on my arm and his face was slowly inching toward mine. I knew what he was doing, I'd seen it hundreds of times in school, in games and on TV, but I couldn't believe it was happening to me. I began to sweat, but before I could start breathing heavily, I felt his soft lips push against mine.

Surprised at first, I soon closed my eyes and tried my best to go along with the kiss. I had no idea what I was doing, shocked beyond belief that this was my first kiss. I had imagined it dozens of times before, and yet it never happened at somebody's party in the backyard, with people screaming and shouting less than five feet away from us, though they were all inside.

Soon the kiss ended, and my breath was thoroughly taken away. I was blushing, and my heart pounding and paws shaking slightly, but I'd done it. It amused me slightly to feel his paws shaking a bit, too, but I had to commend him for going first, as I'd never have done that. Our eyes met and though I felt like he was looking for something, somehow I knew he wasn't going to get it.

Instead we kissed again, for a bit longer. My paws managed to find Blake's waist and my paws trailed slightly up his sides as he pushed a little more forward, turning his head and opening his maw a bit. Though my mind was racing, I managed to keep up and do about the same, and as his tongue poked forward into mine, I eagerly met it with my own, not sure if this was the proper procedure or not.

But Blake seemed to enjoy it, and though I was nervous, I was also somewhat elated. His lips brushing softly against mine was an amazing sensation, sending dozens of shivers up my spine until at last it ended. He was smiling at me, paws around my back and holding on. I tried to smile back, but I think I wore more a face of unease and fear.

"Everything okay?" he asked. There was a definite nervousness in his voice. Perhaps it was his first kiss, too.

"Y-Yeah," I said. "I just... I've never kissed anyone before."

"A cutie like you?"

I blushed some more, then shrugged. "I guess. I've never really...been interested in anyone."

Clearly Blake wasn't sure how to take that. "Oh..?"

I shrugged again, clearly uncomfortable. "You're a nice guy..." Though I hadn't finished my statement, Blake's paws had already let go. "I mean... No, don't take this the wrong way. We just met, y'know? And...you are nice, I like you, but..."

"You don't want to date me."

I sighed. He was right, but I still felt shitty about it. "Maybe we could hang out a bit more first..?" I suggested.

The Doberman nodded, but he still seemed upset.

"I'm sorry," I tried, ears back. "For what it's worth, I thought the kiss was really great."

Blake bit his lip. "I've got to get going now, Donovan. I'll uh...see you around." He didn't sound particularly confident when he said it, but I nodded anyway.

"See ya..."

And with that, he was gone. I sighed heavily, feeling immensely guilty for some reason. I rubbed my lips gently as I remembered the kiss and the intensity of it, searching for some sort of feelings. But I found none. "What's wrong with me?" I asked myself, sighing again.

Suddenly Chase appeared. "Donovan," he said, approaching me slowly. "What's up?" He sounded somewhat wary when he asked.

"Nothing," I answered, ears still pushed back. "Can I go home now?"

"Vic drove, but I can ask..." Chase stopped himself when I glanced up at him. He must have seen my guilt, because he put his paw gently on my shoulder and said, "I'll go get his keys."

Within minutes I was in the front seat of Vic's car, Chase driving me home. I sighed again, staring out the window.

"I saw you and Blake," he suddenly blurted out. He looked over at me when stopped at a red light. "You could've told me you were, um...gay, you know. You know that sort of thing doesn't bother me."

"I'm not..." I stopped myself there. "I'm not gay, but I'm not straight. I'm not really sure what I am, Chase."

"Bisexual, then?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. I guess so. I don't feel anything, though, for anyone. I mean... The kiss felt great and all, really. I'd like to kiss him again. But I don't want to be with him. Does that make sense?"

Chase paused for a long while as he approached another set of lights. "Sorta," he said. "Most guys our age can't control themselves, but I guess you're the opposite."

"I guess." That made about as much sense as my explanation.

When at last I was home, Chase put his paw on my shoulder. "I love you, man, like a brother. You can talk to me about shit, y'know? No secrets. Anyway, try to get some sleep, then call me in the morning. We can hang out, or something."

"Yeah," I nodded, right now not feeling like doing much of anything. "Thanks."

"There is someone out there for you, bud, I know there is. You've just got to find her...or him. Trust me when I say there's nothing wrong with you, okay?"

I nodded again, then closed the passenger door. Sullenly I climbed the steps and pulled myself inside, finally finding my bed and throwing myself onto it. Though sleep was extremely difficult to find, at some point it did find me.

The next morning I was, admittedly, feeling much better. I still felt bad about Blake when I thought about it, wishing I'd gotten his number or something, but I was able to push through it much easier now. A bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch sure helped. I sat in the living room with Joel for a while, my poor brother medicating a hangover as best he could with a mug of plain black coffee. Thankfully his game was later that evening, so he had plenty of time to recover.

He asked me how my party went, and I told him okay, though I think he knew I was lying. I think if he was in any other state, he'd have tried to pull the truth from me, but he clearly wasn't yet ready for such activities. I offered to grab him some Advil, but he said if he had anymore he'd be puking the rest of the afternoon. So instead I refilled his coffee mug for him and brought it out, then rubbed his shoulder and went downstairs.

As always I went through the daily motions of checking email and so forth, then went into the rec room to play a game, most likely Skyrim. Yet oddly, I felt more like assassinating people than adventuring, and so quickly changed games. And so I did that until around noon when I went up to make some lunch, and though Joel was feeling infinitely better, I made him a sandwich, too. He then accompanied me downstairs with his headache, sandwich and coffee, plunking himself on the couch cushion next to me. As I continued playing, he leaned into me.

I didn't mind, of course, though I didn't expect to blush because of it. But soon my game took me and I was mesmerised, killing guards and assassinating bad guys as if I was the world's greatest assassin, like I could do all those things in real life if I actually wanted to. And all the while Joel's head rubbed against my shoulder and he groaned on occasion, looking more like he was about to fall asleep than cure his headache.

In the middle of an important mission, I suddenly heard footsteps stomping down the stairs and shuffling at the landing. Seconds later, the front door opened and slammed moments later. "Where are mom and dad going?" I asked, ears perked as I listened.

"Uh," started Joel. I hoped he wasn't drooling on me. When he sat up, he held his head and groaned "Jesus Christ," until at last he was sitting straight. "They're going out, they said. To some winery, I dunno. I could only hear half of what they were saying. They don't know when they'll be home, but don't expect dinner, I think was the exact quote." He rubbed his head and took another Advil, despite what he'd told me earlier, washing it down with what looked like cold coffee.

"That sounds like fun," I said, half sarcastically. I was sure it was fun, for old people.

"Yeah right," scoffed Joel. "I've gotta go out for a bit, too, 'kay? You gonna be okay on your own?"

"I'm not nine, Joel."

My brother laughed. "I know, I'm just teasing you."

"What do you have to do?"

"I want to go to that sports store...what is it again?" Just thinking about it seemed painful to him.

But I had to shrug. There were several of them.

"Well anyway, I'm going there 'cause dad said they've got some specials on, or something. The one at the mall. Thought I'd check it out. Then, uh, I dunno. I might get some groceries or something, since I'm out at home, or mostly out. Then I might grab some lunch. Care to join me?"

"I think I'm good," I said, though I kind of felt bad. After last night, I didn't feel much like doing anything.

"Yeah, you look kinda down. Um. You need anything? Want anything?"

"Some Coke would be great," I shrugged. I only had a few cans left, and my mother had neglected to buy any the other day.

"Sure thing. But when I get back, you've got to tell me about your party. I know something happened."

I just sighed, and after he downed the rest of his coffee, he rubbed my head and left. It took a moment, but I easily got back into my game and was able to play in that state of bemusement I so often found myself in whilst gaming. But unfortunately it took less than an hour for my bladder to become full, probably from my cereal, and I was forced upstairs to use the toilet.

When at last I was relieved, I made my way back down and only then realized the room smelled somewhat of Joel's sweaty equipment. I looked at his stuff all neatly collected on the pegs, staring at it with a strange fascination.

The helmet was mostly black with sharp, stylized purple parts as decoration, and a black facemask. Beneath it was his shoulder pads, mostly black and white, with bits of green to give it a little style, which was interesting. Unfortunately the white parts around the front of the neck appeared to be stained from sweat, as well as a smaller spots on the parts that strapped around his upper arms. Otherwise, the light shoulder pads were in fairly good condition. On the pegs below, white and black elbow pads - which protected both his forearms and upper arms as well - hung lifelessly, looking far dirtier and worn than the shoulder pads, though not so much as the black gloves, which had white bits here and there. The gloves, I noticed from their precarious perch at the ends of the pegs, vaguely resembled hockey gloves except much smaller and more flexible. The palms of these gloves were very clearly worn out, and almost looked as if they needed replacing, though I hardly knew a thing about them.

I bit my lip as I gazed at Joel's lacrosse gear, feeling somewhat flushed, then even more so when I spied his white jockstrap dangling off a peg. His shorts hung right next to it and on the opposite peg was the top he'd worn at practice. I then took in a deeper breath than I'd meant to, then at last went back to my game.

Yet after just a moment of playing, I found my right paw down next to my crotch and my eyes keeping the gear in my peripheries. I glanced back fully at the gear, the whole thing looking like a horribly deformed fur made of wooden pegs. Why was I so attracted to this stuff?

As strange it as sounds, I'd always had a fascination with sports, despite my total lack of desire to play. There was something about the equipment, the armour in particular, that turned me on more than I ever cared to admit. I was never into sports, and still wasn't, and yet...

I began to blush harder as I paused my game again, standing up. I put the controller down on the couch and with an odd tingling in my nether regions, got up and closed the blinds to the three front windows, which were mostly covered by the shrubbery and bushes outside, but I needed to make sure no one would see me. I then walked back past the couch and past my brother's gear to close the enormous blinds in front of the sliding glass door, closing them only half way. I then looked back at the deformed lacrosse player with a warm, flushed face and a bigger bulge in my shorts than I really wanted.

"This is crazy," I said to myself, still staring at the shoulder pads. I had moved closer, blushing as I stared at it but nervous to try it on. They could get home at any time, I thought to myself. By "they" I meant either Joel or my parents, it didn't matter which. Chances were good if my parents did get home, they wouldn't come down here anyway, but I had no idea what Joel would do. Though he slept upstairs, he kept all his things down here, behind the couch. I glanced down into his open bag, spying his team jerseys within, the ones he'd be wearing to his game later tonight.

I pulled out the purple one first and for now, just felt the smooth material beneath my paws. I then gave it a quiet little whiff, not smelling much at first, but as I pulled it closer to my nose, got an incredible amount of Joel's scent. It wasn't a bad scent, far from it, but it was...athletic, perhaps? It was a warm scent, anyway, somewhat sour like sweat, but hardly the worst thing I'd ever smelled. I gave it another quick whiff, then rubbed the material a bit more with my paws. I felt so silly for doing this, and perverted and definitely wrong, and yet the growing bulge below said otherwise.

And so for now I placed the jersey aside and went back to his pads. I felt them for a moment, around the shoulder pads and down to the upper-arm bits, feeling the thickness and looking at where the straps were. In my mind I was constantly debating to myself, should I put it on, or not? Something I couldn't explain was urging me to, but the logical part of my brain was giving me dozens of reason why I shouldn't. And yet that certain part of me that wanted to was gaining momentum with every moment I stood there, touching Joel's gear. With shaky paws, I took the helmet off the top and placed it aside, then at last removed the shoulder pads from their perch, managing to knock a glove off in the process, and held them in front of me. Before my brain could stop me, I had already turned them around and popped my head through.

In just a moment I tightened the Velcro straps around my ribs and my upper arms, pushing the pads down a bit and twisting myself as if to find a comfortable position within them. My paws ran over the front of the pads, and I wished I had a mirror to see what I looked like. I could imagine, of course, but to see how I looked as if from someone else's eyes just somehow made it more...arousing. I wanted to run upstairs to look in the big mirror in the bathroom, but having no idea when anyone would be home, I dared not risk it.

So I settled instead with using my phone, not to snap pictures but to see as best I could what I looked like, though with the blinds drawn there wasn't a whole lot of light. I sighed and put the phone down, then moved my arms around to get a feel for how it sat against my body as if I was playing. The smell of Joel continuously wafted upward, which both bothered and delighted me. Yet for as fun as it was, I oddly yearned to feel the pads right up against my fur, like Joel did when he played.

Feeling much braver than when I started, I promptly removed the pads and my shirt immediately after, giving them a hard look before popping my head through the top. I tightened the straps as tight as they would go and rolled my shoulders around, lifting my arms and pushing them forward, then I just felt the front of the pads again. I was thoroughly hard by that point, though I couldn't explain why, and as I caught that sweaty whiff of Joel once more, my paw dug into my shorts and I began to stroke.

There was something about these pads, and even the rest, that I found intensely arousing. I didn't usually make a whole lot of noise while masturbating, but strangely I couldn't help myself making at least a few sounds now. This is so fucked up, I thought to myself, but continued anyway. Unlike usual, I found my orgasm coming along extremely fast, and as I pumped and pumped, I found myself on that frightening edge.

I suddenly ripped my paw away before my orgasm struck, which made me cry out and gasp aloud, cock throbbing desperately for release. It only managed a few large spurts of precum before it settled down. "Holy shit," I rasped quietly, surprised by this newfound arousal. Panting a bit, I looked back at the rack of lacrosse gear and wondered what could possibly be next.

Before I chose anything, though, I looked again at the purple jersey, and gave it another stroke with my paws. Before I could consider why not to do it, I threw it on with a great amount of awkwardness, smiling as my head popped through the top. It smelled just like Joel, and his sweat and a bit like the rest of his gear, but again, I found it wasn't a bad smell. Some might think it was a bad smell, but for some reason I didn't. It only seemed to help.

This is crazy, I told myself as my paws ran over the jersey's smooth, purple material, feeling more like a professional lacrosse player than ever. Then I spied Joel's jockstrap, and it gave me pause. That's nasty, I heard myself think, and yet after just a bit of hesitation, I picked it up. Delicately at first, my heart pumped harder as I lifted it up, for now just feeling the smooth material. Different than a usual one, it was made out of that same material a lot of sports clothes were made from, to transfer moisture or some such thing. Either way, that amazing, sickening scent I was coming to love would have undoubtedly been compounded in this tiny garment, and before I could stop myself, I gave it a sniff.

Much to my surprise, it wasn't at horrid as I was expecting, though if its ownership had ever come up in debate, I could answer with absolute certainty that it was Joel's. I smelled the sour, sweaty scent again, and was desperately thinking about putting it on. What the hell are you doing? I asked myself, still considering it. There was something so personal about a jockstrap, putting it on I felt would cross some sort of line I wasn't sure I wanted to cross. So instead I put it back where I found it, chickening out.

But the pads and the jersey was more than enough, as I'd maintained my almost painful erection the entire time I debated the jock. My paw gripped my shaft once more, and in just moments I was stroking it vigorously. I moaned quietly and leaned back on the couch, careful not to knock his helmet over, enjoying Joel's equipment far more than I thought I should have. I continuously thought on how screwed up all of this was, but it was an undeniable turn-on, and so intense, too.

Just as I neared climax a second time, my heart suddenly stopped and my eyes shot open as I heard a horrifying noise at the door - the sound of it opening. "Shit," I barked quietly, and as I was frantically trying to rip the jersey from my back, I heard the door slam shut. Once I had it off, nearly tangling myself in the mess of pads and polyester, I threw it into the bag approximately where I'd found it. Next, as there was a bit of shuffling on the landing, I tore the Velcro apart and pried the pads off my shoulders and over my head, slamming them onto the wooden pegs as close to the position as I'd found them in, then replaced the helmet. Then I feverishly looked about for my t-shirt, moving with more desperation than I ever had to put it on. Footsteps were definitely coming down the stairs, and with my heart pounding I practically leapt over the back of the couch and grabbed my controller, just with enough time to un-pause and continue with whatever the hell I was doing before all of this.

"Hey," said Joel as he entered the room. Somehow I knew it was going to be him. Then he paused, paw still on the door knob. "What's...going on?" He glared at me suspiciously, then glanced at the closed blinds and his gear.

"Nothing," I answered quickly, trying to hide the fact I was panting. I could only imagine how messed up my fur looked, despite how short it was.

"Why are you out of breath?" he asked. I dared not make eye contact.

"I dunno. I'm not."

Thankfully Joel didn't respond. But from the corner of my eye I noticed him bend down and pick a couple things from the floor. My heart stopped a second time as I realize I'd just dropped his whitish jockstrap when I heard the door open, and the glove I'd knocked off the peg I didn't pick up. Shit, shit, shit, I said to myself as I played my game, trying desperately to get my breathing under control.

"Were you touching my equipment?" my brother asked, still behind the couch.

I blushed heavily, debating on whether or not to just admit it. "No," I said, though I felt like it just sounded like a lie.

Joel paused, looked around, then sat on the adjacent couch, coffee in paw. He was staring at me, I could tell, which made me nervous. I somehow knew that he knew I was lying to him, like my sweaty back and flushed face was telling him more than enough. Plus I shifted uncomfortably several times and couldn't even look at him. But he didn't say anything, and certainly didn't accuse me of anything, which I was eternally grateful for. I felt so stupid for doing all of that, and yet even as my shaft wormed back into its sheath, I couldn't deny how arousing it was.

"So you have any plans tonight?" my brother asked me, leaning back on the couch.

I shook my head.

"You gonna come to my game?"

"I could come," I said, clearly not really wanting to. I was breathing more normally now.

"I'd like it if you were there, Donny. Doubt mom and dad will."

"I can come, but you're going to have to drive me." Finally I managed to glance at my brother, and he smiled at me. I looked away faster than I meant to, now stalking a new victim to assassinate.

The rest of the day went by fairly quick, and I explained as awkwardly as possible what happened at the party. Joel, though sympathetic, gave me mostly the same advice Chase had, that there was someone for me and that I wasn't screwed up, and that it was just a matter of finding who that someone was. By the time that conversation was over, I'd nearly forgotten about everything I'd done before Joel came home. Of course the memory was still lingering in the back of my mind, but the horrible awkwardness was, at least for the most part, gone. I mostly played my game while talking with Joel, catching up as best I could.

Joel was still single, I discovered, and was looking for a roommate. He still had his job and it paid reasonably well, though he swore he couldn't tell me about any projects he was working on. He did anyway, of course, though I hadn't heard most of the games he was testing. Though I was jealous of his job, he talked about it as if he was some kind of boring filing clerk, like it was about as dull as high school was for me. I was incredulous, but of course I had no choice but take his word for it.

Anyway, like myself, Joel didn't have a whole lot going on in his life other than work and lacrosse, much like myself. Except for me it was school and playing videogames. It felt kind of unfair, though, that Joel's work was playing videogames. As mentioned, he needed a new roommate because the old one stopped paying his half of the rent, so my brother kicked him out. I would have gladly moved in with him, except he lived at the other end of town, far from my school, plus I didn't have a job. I begged Joel to try to get me a job where he worked, and though he said he'd see what comes up, I wasn't particularly hopeful. He said I at least had to finish high school first, which sucked.

When I asked my brother whether or not he was seeing anyone, he of course said no, but did mention he was looking. Though he didn't get into specifics, he mentioned it gets tougher the older you get to find dates, though the ones you do find tend to be far more interested in actual dating than one-night-stands. But it was still tough. I asked him if he was interested in anybody, and I was surprised to see him shrug and say "not really." Made me wonder if he had the same problems as I did, but I didn't want to bring it up. I said much the same, anyway, when he asked about my love life.

Later in the evening Joel fixed up a fairly light dinner, since it was before his game, for myself and him. He gave me a bit more because I was a "growing boy," plus I didn't have to exert myself afterwards, thank god. I then guiltily helped him pack up his gear and soon enough we were off.

The game was at Exhibition Park, except this time way more people showed up. Great big lights were on as the sun went down and the team warmed up. I found it strange how dark it was in the sky, yet it was bright as day on the field. I then stole a few glances of the team (and Joel) changing into their gear on the sides, blushing as I did. I felt horrible and wrong for it, but I apparently couldn't help myself.

Anyway, the game finally started and though it was pretty exciting to watch, I had a hard time keeping track. They threw the ball at speeds I could scarcely imagine throwing a ball, and whacked each other shockingly hard. Even Joel went down a few times, but he gave as good as he got. It was an incredibly fast-paced game, if difficult to follow, but it was far more entertaining than watching them practice. Yet for the most part, to me it just looked like a bunch of guys in purple and black jerseys running around the field in seemingly random patterns and manoeuvres, whipping a hard white ball at one another.

The game ended fast enough, and I cheered despite the fact Joel's team lost. He played forward, apparently, and though he managed a few goals, evidently it wasn't enough. When I met Joel at the side of the field, when the teams finished shaking paws, I greeted him happily. He threw his helmet into his bag with some annoyance, but he relaxed when our gazes met.

"I thought you played really well," I said, though I wasn't sure how true it actually was.

"Thanks," he smiled, then sighed. He was all sweaty again, fur glistening in the harsh, bright lights illuminating the field. He was still panting a little, too. "So you actually watched this time, hm?" Then he laughed.

I blushed a little and rubbed the back of my neck. "Yeah, well...my phone's nearly dead."

He laughed again, then much to my surprise, gave me a hug. "Thanks for coming, Donny."

I gave my brother an awkward squeeze, frighteningly aware of everyone around us. But it was sweet. "You're welcome."

When at last we separated, Joel removed his jersey and to be a jerk, tossed it at my face. Though I had to pretend to be annoyed, I took a horribly long whiff at the damp, purple jersey, blushing as I pulled it away and feeling somewhat shameful afterwards. I put it in his bag, anyway, only then realizing that rather than nothing at all, to his game Joel had worn one of those compression shirts a lot of professional athletes wore, often football players. He then removed his shoulder pads and handed them to me nicely, so I did the same in putting them away.

Leaving his form-fitting top on, which I felt like he did just to make me uncomfortable, Joel and I made our way back to his car. "A few of us are going out again tonight to lick our wounds," my brother told me. "I'd invite you, but I think we're going downtown."

"Downtown" meant "to a bar," which meant little Donovan wasn't allowed. But I understood. "It's okay," I told him, though I desperately wanted to go with.

"I'll probably just dump my equipment off, shower quickly and go," he said, though I wasn't sure why he had to tell me.

I shrugged. "Okay."

Joel smiled somewhat apologetically, I hoped for having to leave me behind. "Thanks for coming, though, I really do appreciate it. I feel like I played that much harder."

I blushed a little. "It's no problem."

The drive home was an awkward one, more so for myself as I had no choice but to breathe in Joel's sweaty stink. I found myself semi-hard when we got home, which made me feel terribly guilty. I didn't like the fact his sweaty body turned me on, it felt somehow...immoral. Horribly so. But thankfully when I got out of the car, I managed to grab his bag to cover any potential bulges, dragging the thing inside with me with Joel trailing behind. I brought it downstairs with me, just plunking it down near the wooden pegs, then turned with enough time to watch Joel enter. Before I could get around him, though, he was already pulling off his shirt, which of course made me blush heavily.

Quickly, though, I managed to get around him and rush into my room with about as much awkwardness as a sixteen-year-old could muster. I let out a deep breath and sat on the edge of my bed. What the fuck? I repeated over and over in my head. I had never had a problem seeing him topless before.

Soon Joel was upstairs and showering, and with a heavy sigh I picked myself up and plopped down on the couch in the rec room, just staring at the blank television screen. In the back of my mind I was staring at Joel's muscular body, sweat trickling down. My heart was racing, and suddenly I found myself on my knees on the couch and peering over the back of it, staring at the gear he'd clearly just dumped lazily on the floor, next to his equipment bag. His compression top was on the top of the bag, and definitely the next thing I wanted to try on, though for now I was telling myself to forget it. Instead I forced myself to turn back around and turn on the xbox, desperate to take my mind off all of this.

Soon I found myself half wandering around the beautiful land of Skyrim, half thinking about Joel. Or was I think about his gear? Either way, I was far more distracted from my game than I wanted to be.

"Hey Donny?" said Joel, suddenly stepping into the doorway. Apparently I was distracted enough to not hear him pad down the stairs, evidently wearing only a towel. I blushed.

"Yeah?" I turned to face him, but found it difficult and unusually awkward.

"I'm going to be heading out shortly," he told me as he moved behind the couch. He unzipped a different bag, I think looking for new clothes. "Would you mind hanging my gear up for me? If you want. I probably should do it, instead of just leaving it in the bag..."

"Why don't you do it?" I had no problems with doing it, believe me, but it wasn't as if he didn't have enough time.

Joel just shrugged at me, then left the room carrying a pair of socks. I just frowned at his tail, and consequently his butt, as he left, confused at his lack of reply. But soon I was back to my game, still with thoughts of Joel's equipment in the back of my mind.

After I heard my parents head to bed, long after Joel left to go downtown, the urge to get up and put away his stuff quickly became all too overpowering. Guiltily, I had no real desire to actually put it away, but more to look at it and touch it as I did. But before doing anything, I went upstairs to relieve myself, but more importantly to make sure my parents had actually gone to bed. When I was confident they had, I quietly rushed back down and opened Joel's bag.

The stench was palpable, to say the least. Though it hadn't stayed in the bag for very long, it was enough to blast my nose with an awful scent. Determined, though, I dug into the bag and pulled out those damned shoulder pads. I felt a powerful urge to put them on again, but since that afternoon, I think I'd lost my nerve. And so I bucked up and placed them on the pegs where Joel had put them, followed by his elbow pads and the gloves. Next I placed his helmet on top, then draped his shorts and jersey over a couple empty pegs, and though I had to ignore my stupid impulses, I managed to hang his sweaty jockstrap without incident. Lastly I picked up his black top, which for his game he wore beneath his pads. It was still a bit damp, and smelled heavily of Joel, and though it looked like a tiny garment, I knew it had amazing stretch.

Just this one last time, I told myself, shirt still in my paws. Behind that voice in my head another told me not to, I couldn't seem to help myself. The material was soft and stretchy, and despite everything, I looked for the opening. In just a moment, took off my t-shirt and slid into the stretchy, short-sleeved top, feeling a bit grossed out by its cool dampness against my fur. When I pulled it down, I ran my paws over it, surprised by its tight comfort. Of course, I didn't fill it out nearly as well as my athletic brother did, but I still felt strangely sexy in it.

When my paw ran up around my chest, I felt the damp material press coldly into my fur, which again gave me kind of a sick feeling, but when I remembered it was all Joel's, somehow...I enjoyed it. What the fuck is wrong with me? I asked myself, fully aware of how messed up all these thoughts were. He was my brother, but I had to tell myself it was his gear that turned me on. I shook my head and sighed, eyes closed and trying not to think about it.

"This is so fucked up," I said aloud this time, paw still trailing around my chest. I could feel more of the cold sweat against my back, which despite what my shaft was doing, grossed me out even more. And yet I was still wearing it. I was still wearing his shirt, and still pressing the wet spots into my fur.

I then sighed again, not sure what I wanted to do. Well, I knew what I wanted to do, but wasn't sure if I could bring myself to do it. "This is insane," I whispered softly as I removed the helmet from the top of the deformed, wooden lacrosse player and grabbed the shoulder pads. My heart was racing, fearing someone would come bursting in at any moment, though the house remained quiet. I strapped into the shoulder pads and ran my paws over the material for the second time that day, though I was sure it was well past midnight.

"God damn," I cursed, still touching the gear. Every sense was telling me to stop, that I'd get caught again, but some stupid, carnal part of me was urging me on. For now I just touched myself, moaning softly. Then I had a wicked idea.

I pulled down my pants and kicked them aside, though made a point of making sure they'd be easy to get into just in case, and my boxers soon after. I then grabbed Joel's shorts, the purple ones that matched his jersey, and slid into them quickly. With my fully hardened shaft throbbing within the shorts, I dug my paw in and simply pushed my shaft down, the head gliding smoothly against the material and driving me totally crazy. I had to lean on the couch just to stop myself from falling over, and moaned louder than I meant to.

"God almighty," I gasped, letting myself rest. Intense, horrible pleasure ran up my shaft and into my gut as my oversensitive cock coursed through the material, sending me to places I hadn't known existed. I could only maintain this for a short while, though, before my knees nearly buckled, but god did it feel amazing.

All I could smell now was Joel and his sweaty body swirling around me, an intoxicating scent. I moaned a bit louder as I considered that, feeling immensely ashamed for it and yet unbelievably turned on. "Ah fuck," I said, knowing this was somehow sick, but obviously not stopping myself. "God damn it..." Then a sharp moan.

But just as I was in the centre of so much terrible rapture, all of it was taken away immediately as I heard a noise at the door. Everything I feared, everything I knew would happen was happening again, and I cursed myself. In less than a second the shorts were off, and yet...I didn't hear any more movement. I could hear the blood pounding through my ears as I listened, hearing nothing but silence. My body was screaming at me, begging me to keep undressing, but still I listened. Nothing. Still nothing. Was it my imagination? What the hell was that?

Just as I started to let myself relax, feeling silly after all, my heart stopped when I heard the rec room's doorknob rattle, just a moment before I watched in horror as the door swung open.

I froze instantly, head swimming with as many excuses and reasons as I could possibly come up with for being in Joel's gear. I didn't know who it was, but they would be surprised to see me like this, and shocked beyond belief to see my throbbing shaft. My first action was to cover myself, but as the helmet was more than a step away, I was forced to simply use my paws.

Then Joel appeared, and he was as frozen as I was. "Uh," he said, staring at me. "What's...going on?" Then he looked at my cock, which was quickly backing into its sheath.

I was blushing a hundred times more than I ever had, and my heart beat rapidly. I could hardly hear myself think much less hear what my brother was saying. I felt weak, like I was about to fall down, or possibly wretch, yet somehow I managed to keep my balance. "I, uh..." I had no idea what I was supposed to say now.

Then Joel did the sweetest thing I could imagine. He smiled at me. "You like my gear, do you?"

I blushed hard and lowered my head, ashamed.

Still smiling, he stepped into the room further and shut the door behind him. "I knew you were touching my stuff earlier," he said with a sly grin. "It's okay. You can put on the rest, if you like. Y'know, I'm pretty sure your school has a lacrosse team..."

"N-No," I insisted, though I hadn't yet made any moves to remove what I was already wearing. "I don't...I don't want to. I'm sorry." Quickly I undid the Velcro straps in front, but Joel stepped forward stopped me, paws on mine. My heart skipped a beat.

"If you're that curious about it, don't let me stop you. Please."

I took a hard swallow, all nerve gone out of me. I wanted nothing more than to get back into my regular clothes and curl up in bed and never leave my room. I was embarrassed beyond belief, yet I found it impossible to move.

"Here," said Joel, removing his gloves and handing me his elbow pads. "Just slide into them."

Though he was smiling at me, I found it impossible to do the same. But I did what he said, slipping easily into the pads, parts of which went up my upper arms and down half my forearms, and they fit snugly.

"There you go," he said, giving my shoulders a pat. I could smell alcohol on his breath.

"I don't know about this," I said, head lowered again. "I think you're drunk."

Joel sighed quietly. "I had a few beers, Donny. It's not like I'm wasted."

I looked away.

Joel sighed again. "All right, Donny. If you really don't want to, that's cool. I just thought you were really curious about it. I really don't mind."

"I... I am, but..."

Joel tilted his head a bit.

"It seems wrong."

My brother smiled again. "Wrong? You're putting on lacrosse gear, what's wrong about that? I do it almost every week."

"Because it's your lacrosse gear. I mean..." I blushed harder thinking about how close to his body all of this sat, and how infused with his scent and his sweat it had become over the years and dozens of games and practices. "It feels weird."

"Weird how?" he asked softly. I noticed Joel was breathing a bit more heavily now, leaning back on the couch but still only a couple feet away.

"I dunno, cause, like...you're my brother. And brothers..." ...aren't supposed to be attracted to one another.

Joel's smile was gone, but instead he just stared at me, somewhat awkwardly. Our gazes met, but I had to look away, glancing down at his jockstrap for just a moment too long. Joel noticed my gaze, and smiled again, just slightly.

"I'm not going to make you do anything you're uncomfortable with," he said, picking up the jock. "But I suspect you aren't as uncomfortable doing this as you seem to be."

I looked away. He was right, of course, and though I forced myself to put it down before, we both knew I wanted to put that jockstrap on more than anything. I gave my brother a shamed looked, glanced away, but was gazing at him again. With a soft smile, he handed me the small garment, and for now I just held onto it.

Joel just stared at me, grinning. We both knew I wanted this, and for some reason he felt compelled to watch me do it. But soon I took a deep breath and held the jock by the large waistband, the pouch dangling in front. I'd never put one of these on before, but it seemed fairly straightforward. I stuck my legs into the proper holes, and with a heavy, rapidly beating heart, I pulled the jockstrap up until the pouch cupped my balls and sheath, and the bum straps felt snug below my rear.

I took a long, deep breath as my body settled into his gear. I pulled on the waistband a bit to fit inside a bit more, trying not to think about where it'd been. But of course it was futile, and thoughts of Joel's own sweaty sheath and balls rubbing against the material (which was now rubbing against my sheath and balls) was enough to make me harden once more.

Joel just laughed at me.

"Shut up," I barked, though there was no stopping it. The jockstrap had enough room to support my bits, but my bits with an erecting shaft was just too much. I blushed uncontrollably.

"You are a very curious kid," said Joel happily, likely due to the fact I found his stuff so amazingly erotic. "Do you want to put on the rest?"

I paused for a long moment, my immense bulge now impossible to cover, but when I met Joel's eyes, I conceded. I gave him a few curt nods, a slight smile creeping onto my face.

Joel grabbed his purple jersey and happily helped me into it, untangling me with ease. He then gave me his helmet and pushed it gently onto my head, and though he hadn't made any gesture toward it, I guiltily put his mouth guard in my maw. He gave me a bit of a surprised look, but laughed quietly as I blushed at him. Next came the gloves, which still felt somewhat warm and damp from his game, then he helped me into his shorts again.

"Well, you look half way to professional," mused Joel, taking a step back. I shrank into my shoulders as he stared at me, feeling quiet silly but the tension slowly lifting. I was pitching one hell of a tent, but thankfully Joel paid it no mind, or didn't seem to anyway.

"Thanks," I said timidly. I wasn't sure what to do now, but god did I enjoy where I was.

"You really surprise me, Donny."

"Why..?"

"Well...I guess because you're a lot more grown up than I think I realized. I mean, I helped you learn how to ride a bike."

"Thanks for understanding." It was awkward to talk with a mouth guard in, more so one that didn't fit my teeth properly. Eventually I spit it out. "I thought...I dunno. You'd be mad."

Joel shook his head and stepped closer to me. "Never," he said, paws on my shoulders. We shared a long glance, and soon I found he was undoing the straps to the helmet and sliding it off my head. He placed it back where it belonged, then turned back to me, smile still on his face.

My heart was pounding now, and my cock throbbing. Everything about this moment seemed fiercely wrong, and yet horribly, undeniably right. Breathing heavily, I lifted my shaky paws to Joel's waist as he replaced his paws on my shoulders, pulling me in a bit.

"You're my little brother, Donny. I told you, it's my job to be here for you, and it's also my job to protect you. I'd never hurt you, or make you feel like shit. Teasing notwithstanding, I love you."

I gave my brother a squeeze. Though I felt his leg rub against the end of my shaft, I ignored it, as difficult as that was to do. "Thanks, Joel." Then he kissed the top of my head.

We continued to hug for a long moment before Joel backed away a bit, paws still around my shoulders and mine still on his waist. Then with a bit of a smile, he asked me in a low, soft voice, "Have you...ever been kissed before?"

I stared at him for a long while, blushing heavily. My maw was open a crack, heart still pounding like mad and my shaft still rock hard. But eventually I managed a shaky "yeah," then told him it just happened at that party. I neglected to mention it happened in a situation not unlike this one.

Joel smiled softly, then raised a paw to my jaw, lifting my head a bit. My heart skipped a beat (or two or three) as his gentle paw stroked my cheek, and his lips inched closer toward mine.

Oh god, oh god, I said to myself, maw still cracked open. Was this really, seriously happening?

When he was just an inch or two away, Joel said in a deep, quiet voice, "If you don't want this, Donny, just...just push me away. I told you I'll never hurt you."

I hardly moved a muscle, but instead gazed into Joel's eyes, the desire probably as clear as day. Then I closed my eyes, and in just a second I felt his soft, canid lips press into mine. He kissed me very delicately at first, tilting his head slightly and going very slow, giving me time to figure out what the heck he was doing. Soon enough, though, after what felt like a long while of small, gentle kisses, Joel opened his maw and invited my tongue in to play. With a slight moan, I joined with his eagerly, paws gripping at his waist and jockstrap as tight as ever. His sweet, musky maw elated me beyond anything I thought possible, and I could only hope he felt the same about me. I moaned, then moaned some more, kissing my brother with as much skill as I had, praying it was enough.

His paws clung to my back as we kissed, heads tilting the other way as our tongues pressed together and slid against the other. I moaned again, making far more noise than Joel but not caring all the same. When at last it ended, I let out a long, elated sigh, now finding I was pushing my shaft into him on purpose. I giggled softly, a noise I wasn't sure I'd ever made before, when I felt my brother push back into my cock, and I blushed enormously.

"This is crazy," I said, resting my head against Joel's chest. "What if mom and dad catch us..?"

Joel laughed quietly through his nose. "Dad's been into the brandy, and mom's downed at least a full bottle of wine herself. They're out for good. Besides, we can be subtle..."

"If you say so..." I had to gasp much louder than I wanted to when I felt something suddenly grip onto my shaft, from outside the shorts. I looked up at my brother, and he was smiling at me. He then began to slowly stroke me, and I almost melted into his paw. "Ooh, god..." Still my heart raced, and though somewhere in the back on my mind something was telling me this was terribly wrong, I wanted nothing more than for Joel to continue.

"Are you still a virgin?" asked my brother, which made me lower my head.

"Y-Yeah," I answered almost ashamedly. God did his paw feel amazing against my shaft, though still it wasn't quite against my shaft. "That feels really good, Joey..."

Joel laughed quietly. "You want me to keep going, then?"

I looked up at him uncertainly, but when I gazed into his dark brown eyes, I somehow knew I wanted no one else. Finally I nodded. As he stroked me slowly, my paws released the back of his shirt and rolled up his chest, and soon I found myself leaning into Joel a little further, and soon we were locked in a heart-pounding kiss once more. I loved the taste of his maw, even with the hint of hops and alcohol, and more so loved his tongue rolling against mine. I moaned while we kissed, Joel holding me in place with one paw while his other massaged my aching shaft.

When we pulled apart again, Joel stepped away and removed his shirt. I stared at his chest and his stomach and strong arms, even glancing down to where there was a clear bulge in his grey track pants, apparently nothing down there to hide his dog-pride.

"C'mere," he said, gently taking me by my wrists. He then guided my paws toward his very well-toned stomach, then helped me move them up to his chest. He released my wrists when my paws found his hard nipples, which I played with devilishly. I heard him moan softly, which for some reason made me insanely happy. Just knowing I could cause him as much pleasure as he was causing me...it was just so satisfying. Soon, though, even after rolling my paws around his shoulders and muscular arms, they found their way back down to his abs. Though I was beyond nervous, paws shaking like crazy, I pushed them down into his pants, and within I found his hot, throbbing shaft.

Joel moaned quietly as my paws gripped onto it. My heart beat rapidly against my chest and I felt like wretching, this entire situation extraordinarily unreal, but god did it make me happy. Now that I had his shaft, I wasn't entirely sure what to do with it. For now I just stroked like he was doing to me, using both paws, and when he leaned back on the couch again I left one paw around his knot while the other worked.

"Ooh, Donny," groaned my brother. "Keep going..." His head was back and eyes closed, maw open a bit to let out his hot breath. I could see clearly he was breathing even more heavily. Soon my arms grew a little tired, and though perhaps it was just teasing him a bit, I pulled my arms out from his pants and tickled his nipples again. Joel just laughed.

"You're so cute," he said, and I wasn't sure how to take that. I assumed it was a compliment. "Come on, come over here." He then stood up and took my paw, bringing me around to the front of the couch. He put his paws around my waist and soon lifted the jersey off and over my head, flinging it aside. It hadn't occurred to me until it was gone, but I was feeling incredibly hot on top of nervous and happy and scared.

Still fully erect, I let my brother undress me. When he pulled off the gloves and elbow pads, he sat down on the couch while holding both my paws. I was blushing still, not sure what exactly he was up to. Within moments, though, he had his paws down around my waist again, and soon the purple shorts were off. His jockstrap did a poor job at covering me, and so without much prompting from Joel, I smiled at him and nervously removed the garment. While he stared at my shaft, I took a big, long, heavy whiff of the jockstrap, still very much filled with Joel's bodily scent. Then I dropped it, and stood before my brother in only his lacrosse shoulder pads and the compression top beneath it.

Joel made me moan when he stroked me for a minute or so, stopping only to slide out of his own pants, revealing a much bigger cock than mine. He carelessly tossed his pants aside. He then took me by my paws and pulled me onto his lap, his dog-meat throbbing warmly behind my tail.

I was nervous as hell, paws shaking and my body quivering. Though he did his best to relax me, I think I was about as relaxed as I was bound to get. We were both breathing heavily, my own breath a bit more erratic, and for now I sat with my paws on his shoulders.

As he removed the shoulder pads, I began to see just how insanely surreal all of this was. I mean, he was my older brother for god's sake. He taught me how to ride a bike, and helped me learn how to write my own name. When I was at last totally naked, my brother and I kissed. My brother, Joel, who on numerous occasions bandaged my scraped knees or bloody elbows, kissing them all better. He was the one who gave me his slushie when I accidentally dropped and spilled mine. He cared for me even when I was too young to appreciate it, and had been there for me more times than I could count.

When that kid stole my bike in first grade, Joel was the one who got it back for me. Joel, my older brother, who hugged me and comforted me when my parents fought. He shared his popcorn with me at the movies, and shared a blanket when we watched them at home. He even told me bedtime stories when my parents weren't able, and taught me how to properly throw a football, for all the good it did me. He let me eat his cereal when he got the last bowl, or made me something else instead. Joel, my brother, who was always there for me when I needed him, and even when I didn't. He made more sacrifices for me than I could ever count. Joey...who I loved so much.

Before he could do much more, I suddenly pushed forward and wrapped my arms around my brother. He seemed surprised at first, but patted my back softly. "I love you, Joey, so much, more than anything."

He laughed softly and rubbed my back, and for a long while we held onto one another, myself taking in as much of his scent as I possibly could. When I leaned back, blushing and smiling, I somehow knew that Joel was the one I wanted, the one I craved and had been searching for. A strange sense of serenity then washed over me, paws no longer shaking and my nervousness almost gone. I pushed my maw close to Joel's ear and whispered rather hotly, "Take me, Joey..."

Surprised by this, Joel gave me a long, hard glance, but soon saw the same intensity I was feeling. He nodded. "Go into my bag," he told me. "My equipment bag. Go into the left pocket and bring me the clear bottle."

Eagerly, I got off my brother and searched for the bottle. I found it quickly enough, then brought it back to him. I was kneeling on the couch, knees to both his sides and bum resting just above his shaft. We were both throbbing and myself, begging for more.

"Up," he said as he squeezed a generous amount of the clear, jelly-like liquid into his palm pads, spreading it around his own shaft. "I'm going to lube you up a bit, okay?"

I nodded, paws on his shoulders. I smiled down at my older brother, tail wagging as I waited for this. The anticipation was almost killing me.

In just a second, I felt a slick finger press into my tailhole. I gasped slightly, but we made eye contact and Joel assured me with his gaze everything would be fine. Then he pushed his finger in. I gasped even louder at first, frozen in place as his finger entered my body, pushing the lube inward. My paws gripped at his shoulders tightly, only releasing when his finger popped out. "I'm going to stick in two now," he told me. "Just relax as best you can and you'll be fine." Though I took a deep breath and felt more or less prepared for it, the stretch was still incredible. I tried not to cry out for fear of waking my parents, but the sensation was incredibly intense. I'd never felt anything like this before, ever. It was vaguely painful, but as his finger rubbed and wiggled around, I felt my shaft throb harder, precum oozing out.

"Oooh, god, Joey..." I moaned sharply, then shuddered as he ran over what I thought could only be my prostate, which until now I'd only ever been told about - Vic had gone on at great lengths about the benefits of prostate massaging. But as his fingers massaged my insides, I felt almost as if I was starting to orgasm, yet there was only milky precum. I couldn't help but grind my bum into his fingers, paws trembling a bit now as he continued. I had never imagined for a moment I could feel any sort of pleasure like this. Even what I'd heard about sex didn't seem to match up to what Joel was doing to me, and the fact it was him doing it just drove me crazy."Aah, yeah."

"I'm just helping you stretch out a bit, Donny. It gets a hell of a lot better than this."

For some reason that made me nervous. But when Joel put a third finger up my bum, now just gently pushing in and out, I started feeling slightly more confident about it. This wasn't as painful as I thought it would be, though in all fairness I wasn't sure how painful it'd be at all. For now I just enjoyed Joel's fingers inside me, pushing down a bit harder with every shallow thrust he gave, which seemed to amuse my brother.

"You seem to be ready for this," he mused. With his clean paw he held onto my cheek and pulled me down for a kiss. As we kissed, his gooey paw gripped at my waist and pulled me down, and slowly my rear-end descended upon Joel's substantial dog-meat.

As we kissed, I felt his hard tip open my tailhole just slightly, then as it pushed in he kissed me even deeper. I moaned at both the taste of his maw and his shaft entering my body, and even as his cockhead pushed in, we still continued to kiss. I was starting to feel a bit of soreness down there, though, but with his tongue pushing against mine I tried my best to ignore it. When he pushed me down further, it became much, much harder.

Suddenly I yelped, breaking the kiss, then groaned and yelped again. "It hurts!" I cried, wincing. I felt some tears in my eyes, the dull, ripping pain almost too much. I could stand having his cock-tip in, but any further and I felt I was being stretched near to breaking.

"I'm sorry, Donny," said my brother, giving my side a gentle rub with his clean paw. "Just relax yourself, take a few deep breaths... If you do want to stop, just say so."

I took a hard swallow. I felt like we'd come way too far to go back now, though I imagined the pain would only get worse. I took a few deep breaths, then rubbed Joel's shoulders. "I want to continue," I said, then gave his cheek a gentle lick. For once I made my brother blush, and I just smiled at him.

He smiled back, then with as much care and tenderness as he could, he slowly helped me down onto his shaft. The pain was less intense this time, though it grew quickly. But I was determined to get through it. I bit my lip and tried not to cry out, filled to what felt like was my maximum, but I had to do this. Tears filled my eyes as the pain persisted, and though I let out a few yips and yelps, soon enough my tailhole was wrapped firmly around the top of his knot, taking in the bulk of his shaft.

"You're in," I laughed. My cheeks were burning red, and I rubbed my brother's strong shoulders lovingly, plus a bit of his sexy chest. When Joel moved, though, it hurt, but it wasn't anywhere near as intense as it was at first. "Can we just...stay like this for a bit?"

"Anything you want, Donny."

I hugged my brother tightly. He then lifted my right ear with his nose and gave my cheek a lick, then another immediately after. There was something oddly feral about licking like that, yet it felt so intensely personal, too, like only the closest lovers did that sort of thing. He licked my cheek again, moaning slightly while I giggled.

"I love you," I said, fingers running over his nipples now. They were hard, too, and he seemed to like it when I flicked them lightly.

"I love you, too, Donny." Then he gave me a gentle kiss.

With a quiet murr, a sound I was certain I had never made before in my life, I began to push my rear back up Joel's shaft with my legs. Joel moaned about as loudly as I did, though his head was back against the couch with eyes closed, until I felt him nearly popping out. Quickly, I pushed back down, much quicker than I had at first, and with far less pain. I cooed quietly as his large, canid cock slid up and down, into my body again and again, slowly at first but quicker as I became more comfortable.

I dug my face into Joel's shoulder as I ground my bum into his knot, moaning into him. I couldn't seem to stress enough how absolutely amazing all of this felt, how I had never experienced anything quite so pleasurable. I never wanted that moment to end, but it seemed I wasn't going to get much choice in the matter.

After what seemed like a long while of just slow, deep thrusts, though I tried to go quickly, Joel at last stopped me. He pulled out entirely, and I thought I felt some cum running down my thigh, though it was likely just the lube. "What're you..?" I tried to ask, but without saying a word Joel carefully pushed me off him and gestured me back onto the couch, on my knees again but pointing away from him, arms resting on the back. He then held me by my hips and I felt his shaft poke at my tailhole again. With a heavy groan, I pushed my bum back into him, letting him know I was ready for more,

In just a moment Joel was back inside me, pushed in deep. I cried out, not anticipating the speed at which he entered. But before I could say anything, he'd already pulled out and thrust back in, hard and deep, which made him grunt. I grunted too, but it sounded more like a whimper.

"Here we go, Donny," groaned Joel, now pumping into my poor rear at much greater speeds and harder thrusts than before. "Just let me know if it's too much."

"Ahh, AH!" I cried as a response, bucking into the couch with every thrust. Soon, though, I got used to it and the rhythm, and was even able to move along with him, pushing back in perfect time with his thrusts. Panting, I moaned almost every time he bucked me, but I quickly found the movements were becoming much more smooth and blending into one.

It was a shaky start, but now my tailhole was filled with a smooth, burning ecstasy I found hard to describe. My shaft felt as if it was on the brink of climax, constantly, yet it couldn't quite reach over that edge. And that pleasure seemed to climb all the way up into my gut and surrounded my crotch and tailhole entirely. I moaned very loudly several times, knowing I had to be quiet but sometimes unable to contain myself. Joel let out a few of those, too, which made me happy, knowing of course it was my tailhole, my body bringing him that pleasure.

"Aah, Aah," I moaned. "Ooh, god..." My eyes were closed and my maw agape, groaning and moaning and panting heavily while I was pushed harder and harder into the back of the couch, using my arms to brace myself and even push back. That, of course, made Joel thrust even deeper, which sent extremely sharp spots of pleasure (and pain) coursing through me, which were the ones that tended to make me cry loudly.

"Oooh, fuck," growled Joel, his paws even tighter against my hips. "This is it, Donny, I think this is...it..!" With just a few more thrusts, my eyes immediately shot open and I let out a horrifyingly loud cry as my tailhole was rent in two.

The pain I'd felt at the beginning of all of this was nothing compared to right now. He gave me one long, extremely hard thrust as I imagined he tried to push his knot into places it wasn't made to go. And though my first instinct was to pull away, I wasn't going to let it happen. As Joel growled and pushed forward, immediately after my sharp cry, I pushed back, and though it was excruciating, I at last heard and felt that amazing pop Joey had been going for, as well as a long, undulating howl from Joel that was filled with absolute joy.

The moment after my brother knotted me, while he was howling, I felt an amazing warmth penetrate deep within my bowels, which I could only assume was his steamy beagle-seed. Panting and feeling extraordinarily full and flustered, I let out a long, loving sigh and basked in the warmth of my sweaty brother behind me, and the seed inside my belly. I think I may have even murred again, though it could have easily been a moan.

"We're gonna be stuck like this for a while," said Joel between heavy breaths. He was panting just as heavily as me, if not more.

"We are..?"

Joel just laughed, then gave my flabby sides a gentle rub. After just a moment I realized he was trying to pull me back into him. I promptly and happily pushed myself up off the back of the couch, and though I was still kneeling, I very much enjoyed my brother's sexy, muscular chest grinding against my sweaty back and his strong, powerful arms hugging me from behind. When I looked down, I noticed a shocking amount of precum covered the couch cushion, but of course I was in no state to mind.

"That was incredible," said my brother, and the way he said it seemed to imply it was the best sex he'd ever had. It was the only sex I'd ever had.

"So what now..?" I asked, pushing back into Joel a bit. He was very, very warm, and very, very smelly. I loved his smell.

Before answering me, Joel moved one paw down to my shaft, which made me gasp. "It's your turn," he said, then began to stroke me.

I moaned quietly as his paw moved slowly up and down my shaft, and after a moment he got a bit of lube in his paw and the affair became much slicker. I groaned a bit at this new sensation, having never used lube before, and I had to say, it was very thrilling. Both his paws then joined in, one massaging and squeezing my knot while the other stroked.

A sharp cry pushed through my maw, and I lifted my arms and rubbed my brother's ears. I then felt his chest more against my back and his face next to mine, and he kissed me. It was weird having another stoke my shaft, somehow far more pleasurable than anything I could do on my own. One, two, three he stroked, moving faster each time. "Ah, Joey," I groaned, not sure what to do with my paws. But as he sped up, I felt the edge of climax quickly approaching.

"Aah, fuck," I said, his paws stroking quickly. While he stroked, I was intensely aware of his large knot grinding into my prostate, which forced glob after glob of precum to join with the lube, as well as increase the pleasure of all of this by about a thousand times.

I soon found myself wriggling my hips against him, urging his knot around as he stroked, causing me to groan. Clearly Joel got the hint, and while he remained hard he pushed slightly and ground forward, filling even my gut with that amazingly sharp pleasure.

"Oh man," I said, feeling my orgasm just around the corner. It seemed to come out of nowhere, but once I found it, nothing in the world was going to stop it. "God, Joey... I'm about...to... Aaah!" In just seconds, I pushed my rear back into Joel's body and cried out loudly, my shaft filled with a rapture so strong I was sure I'd never feel it again. I then bucked uncontrollably as suddenly my cum exploded onto the back cushion of the couch, and I shouted loudly again. Joey's paw was on my belly as if to keep me there, and I bucked and moaned and cried until at last it died down, and soon I found myself panting and hot once more.

"Wow," was all I had to say to that. I heard Joel laugh, and I laughed with him, then he licked my cheek. He hugged me tightly again and I held onto his forearms, and together my older brother and I remained locked. His powerful, sweaty scent was almost overwhelming, and I even smelled a similar odour wafting up from me, though his was far more prevalent.

For a long, long while we stayed together, enjoying the warmth of our bodies and the amazing, indescribable ecstasy we'd wrought on ourselves. When at last his shaft released me, we both retired to my room and to my bed, naked as the days we were born and happier than ever. Joel held onto me as we lay together, licking the back of my neck and behind my ears until we were too tired even for that. I gave my brother a long, deep, loving kiss and said "I love you," and he responded in kind.

Though I was only just halfway through my high school career and just a fraction of my life, somehow I knew, despite all the trouble and problems I'd encountered, Joey, Joel, my older brother and my protector, he was the one I wanted, the one I needed, the one I craved. Though most kids my age thought they'd found their soul mates, somehow I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Joel was mine, that for some reason beyond my comprehension, he and I were meant to be together. And if felt so, so good, knowing we finally were.