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I think it's rather hilarious that we can only be completely truthful with others when they are drunk. How many times have you, or your friends or family members blurted out a regrettable fact after 2 bottles of the cheapest (but powerful) wine, some equally cheap vodka and 10 cans of not so cheap beer. Its probably due to the fact that excessive amounts of alcohol lowers the inhibitions of someone, and in lieu of the disregard for inhibitions, the bastard emotion known as fear decides to sleep for a bit and we vomit out syllables for an infinite amount of time until we become silenced by someone with more sense clasping their paw over your mouth and giving you that wide-eyed stare that says; "Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

As Jack leaned over the green bin in the back garden, the dulling beat of the latest club music radiating out from the double-glazed windows of a pebble-specked suburban abode, I once again patted him on the back, and slurred; "Chill, man, it's alright." I was pretty fucked, I'm not gonna lie, but not as fucked as my best friend, his quivering grey fur shaking with the cold and the effort of puking. And hey, at least I didn't just confess my undying love to the most popular girl in the whole school, then get in a fight with her ridiculously muscled boyfriend, lose, and tumble out into the cold dewy back garden and openly vomit onto pizza boxes, cola bottles and other biodegradable and recyclable waste. Jack, however, had done all of those things, and was now sitting cross-legged on the damp concrete under the window of the house, exhaling heavily, tiny tiny droplets of mixed viscosity and content slowly dropped to the ground and lay still. It was cold. The breeze that was so typical of the Autumn nights whipped around my neck and down my back, and I briefly considered returning back inside to the warm and loud house and abandoning my best friend to his own pity. "Charlie..." he moaned, inhaling both the vomit in his mouth and the tears in his eyes. "What the fuck did I just do...?"

I laughed, not a hearty laugh, just a little fake laugh that showed that I found the situation funny but I didn't actually want to be a part of it. "You're a fucking idiot, mate, but hey, this sort of things come with the territory." Me and Jack had only begun getting in with the popular crowd at the start of the semester, and this was basically the first proper massive party we'd both been invited too, nevermind attended. After a few more minutes of withstanding the cold we both decided to venture back inside, where we were both immediately bombarded with the sharpest of looks. Tomas, a six foot nothing panther strolled over to us, his ridiculously bright eyes screaming out nothing but a mixture of mirth and pity. "Guys, you two should probably take it easy from now on." he stated, and we both nodded, one of us nodding out of pure fear and admiration and the other nodding to aknowledge that the moving head on the shoulders still worked.

I sat down, and Jack sat down in another wooden kitchen seat opposite me, with a glass of water clutched in two shaking paws. He looked like Death, his fur was matted around his maw and he still reeked of sweat and vomit. All around us people were carrying on as if nothing had happened, Lewis, a slim fox with an amazing air of dickheadedness and Marc, an equally slim lizard were both preparing shots on the kitchen counter while everyone else was either sitting around drinking, or had moved out into the now vacant back garden and began smoking, or playing spin the bottle on the kitchen table. I was extremely tempted to join. So I did. Standing up I walked over to the table with a can of beer in my hand, smiled and quipped; "Room for one more?" Alice, a short lynx with amazing peircings all around her ears immeadiately broke into a wide smile and drunkenly pointed to an empty chair; "Sure!"

It was a well known fact that I was gay, but to be honest no-one I knew closely minded or even cared. However, sitting at the table with a gender ratio of 3 girls to 6 guys (me not included) the nerves that had seemed to freeze when I decided to join suddenly thawed, and started causing warning signals around my brain. What if I landed on a guy, and he dosen't want to kiss? What if he does, he's straight, and I get a boner? Oh Gods, they'd kill me for fun. But too late, Alice had already spun the bottle and there was no backing out now.

After about 5 minutes of the bottle almost magically creeping past me, I was hit, chosen first to kiss the guy or girl it landed on next. I spun, hard, and the bottled tilted, jumped for a bit, and then landed back on the table, pointing at a lioness sitting at my 2 o' clock. I did not know her name. She smiled, winked. "First time?" everyone laughed, and I shrugged.

"First time with a girl." nobody laughed. Awkward, but I was at least talking. I liked being drunk. So we kissed, and it was, if nothing else, rough. She was either in heat or just a terrible kisser. After the mandatory five seconds we pulled back to a chorus of woo's from the table and continued.

After another 10 minutes, I was feeling quite confident, I wanted the bottle to land on me. Every time it spun, I had more and more began to wish it would stop pointing at me. But it didn't, and in the back of my mind I could hear a noise. Suddenly, the noise jumped to the front of my mind when I realised it was the sounds of a fight. Jack stumbled in through the kitchen door as I turned, the same guy from before quickly following behind. Rudy was his name, a massive rugged horse, and this would be the second time he was going to beat up my best friend tonight. I leaped up, ran over and wrapped my arms around Jack, pulling him towards the front door. He was even drunker, and he had a shallow cut over his left eyebrow.

"What the fuck did you do?!" I hissed, and he giggled. "I told Hazel I loved her again, and that..." he hicoughed, burped and then continued: "shitbag heard me. I SWEAR, she was up for it. She was sitting outside her room and...." I didn't even bother listening, I had to get him home. My house was only a few streets away, and my parents were out for the weekend, at a family gathering a few hours drive away. If someone had been looking, they would have seen two young wolves, both drunk walking through the deserted streets, Jack muttering about how much he'd fucked up, and me mostly staying silent, propping him up.

We reached my house and I fumbled with the keys before opening the door. It was at least warmer in here. I dragged Jack up the stairs, and he saw my bathroom. It was almost like a shared moment, he appeared to sober up in a flash, looked up at me, faked an extremely posh British accent. "Pardon me good sir, I need to excrete.", then fell, literally fell into my bathroom and began vomiting into my toilet. I sighed, and left him be, turning and walking directly into my room, kicking off my shoes in the dark, and removing my jeans. I groaned when I heard the shower turn on, and walked into the bathroom to find Jack naked in my shower...showering.

He was naked in the shower, standing in the bathtub with the water smashing down upon him, and flying all over the room. The place was already soaked.

"...what?" I said, trying not to look at the fresh vomit in the toilet as I walked over to the toilet, flushing it. "I'm showering. Problem?" he said, swaying under the stream of water before finally deciding that the tiled wall was a stable enough base against which he could rest. "Dude, get out of the damn shower, for fuck's sake." I growled, beginning to get angry. "Out, Jack, get the fuck out." I said, moving forward to try and grab him. He moved, and I missed, loosing my footing on the wet floor and going head first into the bathtub. I went face first into the white porcelian, and groaned, while above me I heard laughter, the laughter of a fool. Water started pooling around my nose, and I stood back up, extremely pissed off. "Fine!" I shouted. "Fuck you, you desperate peice of shit!" I turned, slammed the door and stormed into my room, and got into bed, slapping on my headphones and blaring the music. This is where I'd normally give a bit of information about the music I like, but I was so furious at Jack for being such a weight that I wanted to do nothing but fall asleep. But I couldn't. My straight best friend was taking a shower 10 feet away, and my straight best friend was drunk. Sex. But the last time we'd ever done anything sexual was a fucking disaster, Jack had burst into tears and we had literally not spoken a word about it since. Any mention of sex was taboo, even commenting on the atrractiveness of the physical appearance of others was a rare occourance. So why was I so angry? Yes, he had been a weight on my shoulders that night, but every other night he was my best friend. So why. Was. I. Mad? I couldn't figure it out, and then it hit me.

I was mad because Jack had basically exposed himself infront of me, and I responded in anger. I was not mad at him, I was angry at myself. My lifelong friend had drunkenly gotten into a shower, openly admitted his own nakedness infront of me, and my first reaction was to insult and attempt to physically attack him. I was being selfish because the last time I had seen him naked had led to a whirlwind of emotions that nearly killed me. What a bastard, I. I rolled over and fell asleep, slowly, and then all at once.

I felt a soft pressure against my back a little later, and I awoke with a start. A million whowhatwhenwhere's flushed through my skull, and in an effort to quell them I turned and saw Jack, asleep. He had been spooning me, from the way his arms and legs were positioned, awkwardly wrapped around nothing as I pushed myself up with my arms on the bed. Spooning?! Oh Gods, what the fuck. The act itself was confusing, and then I remembered the pressure against my back and I almost laughed out loud. Pulling down the covers, I saw. He was naked, and he had an erection. This was gold, this was priceless, and... this was a big erection. He had grown in the last 3 years, and now sported a dripping pink wolfcock. I admit, it was more arousing than amusing, but funny nonetheless. Yet guilt hit me hard. I wasn't going to do anything to him, not while he was like this. No, he had an erection, who dosen't get an erection in bed? I rolled back over and lay back down, closing my eyes and drifting off when I felt a paw on my chest and heard a whisper; "Did you like it?"

I whipped around and growled. "Jack, what the-" and stopped short as he kissed me. Full on kissed me. No joke, no messing around, just planted one right on the tip of my maw. Explosions of every single thing in my head, so much was going on that after about half a second there was a silence in my brain and then after another half a second every nerve, ever fiber of my being and my soul was screaming; "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING KISS HIM BACK GODSDAMMIT!" So I did.

We parted after another dozen or so glorious seconds, and I suddenly began wondering aloud. "What areyoudoing?! Ithought you were straight whydidyoukissme?" There was a silence, and Jack then spoke, his voice quivering. "I'm not straight." And then we kissed some more. Only this time we were not just kissing, we were embracing. Two became one and in our drunken haze we both decided that this... this was good.

Yes, this was good. I opened my eyes, and quickly scanned his face. His eyes were closed and in the semi-darkness I saw everything. He looked so peaceful, and he had this resounding aura of relief, as if he had been waiting to do this for years. We broke up and he moved closer to me, tilting his head downwards and his paws moving up and down my flanks, making me shiver in anticipation. "No, Jack." I whispered, not wanting this to be a repeat of the last time. "Not yet, not just yet." I rolled over, feeling a little harsh, but then Jack shimmied even closer to me, wrapped himself around me, and said; "I can wait a while longer. Goodnight Charlie." "Night mate."