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Alphonse Perils walked through the hallways of his high school. The students were in their classes, and there was not a soul other than himself present. He kept his head down as he reminisced. His previous life here in the school was one that was full of memories. He had laughed and cried at this place, alone or not. He had his share of pain and suffering, of joy and of thrill. The whole high school had become a huge part of his life just as he had been a huge part of its shaping.

Even if he ran away.

He fondled with the video camera on his hand. It came to life and his recorded videos lit up, his different faces showed at the console, all were either frowning or teary-eyed. He ignored them for a while, and instead flipped the video console forward so he could see himself while he recorded the video.

He didn't have the opportunity to record himself in this place weeks past. The school didn't let him enter, refusing to believe he was an alumnus. He had already forgotten there was a school-wide change of the school administrators, an event met with righteousness which left both of yesterday's opponents laughing and crying. The crimes of this place had been brought to justice, yet he was unsatisfied with the results. He still had one more justice to bring and he wouldn't rest until it was served.

He settled to recording himself at one of the bathroom stalls. It was a weird place to record, one that would surely get him raised eyebrows. But he didn't care. It was part of the memory--Their memory. Leaving it out would mark as a huge loss to his beloved. He sat on the lidded toilet, pointed the camera at his face, cleared his throat before he spoke then pressed the record button.

"Hey Zack." he said, "I'm sure you remember this place. It's our school! You know--That one where you chased me around to fall at the river by the bridge? I'm sure you do. Lulu said it herself, we got each other really, really wet afterwards." He chortled, "And we did get really wet in the future. We did it everywhere: Your room, the woods, the--I'm getting ahead of myself."

"Well I don't know if you remembered what happened after our meeting, but I'll remind you if you don't. You chased me again afterwards, not because you were gonna beat me up--Though that would get me really hard," he winked, "Kidding, but I remember you were chasing me around exactly because of the opposite of that. High school's a really tough time for teenagers, you know hormones and all? It's the time people get called 'nerds' because they wore glasses or ugly because they have pimples and braces. I myself wore glasses, yet they called me 'fag'. Heh, I was a unique case."

"But nevertheless, it was the same for you and me and so much more for Gideon. Like I said, high school's the time when hormones are in rage, and do you remember what it did for you?"

"They really messed you up and got in the way..."

---

Alphonse hid in one of the stalls of the men's washroom. His ears were perked, eyes turned upwards, scanning the faint shadow from the ceilings as the huge black outline moved around and across the fluorescent light. There were light footsteps outside from his stall, moving left and right from where he was. The acoustics of the washroom caused the steps to echo, and Alphonse caught his breath before his temptations to scream were fully realized.

He heard his pursuer sigh and soon, his footsteps went towards the entrance. The door creaked as it opened, a deathly sound like the wings of a cicada rubbing their wings together. Alphonse sweated on his shirt, feeling like he was in a horror movie and his pursuer was simply tricking him to step out from his stall and kill him then and there. A few droplets of his beady sweat and the door slammed to a close and his horror ended. He breathed a sigh of relief. Close call. He didn't expect to get chased around campus so much. The hype from the exposed pictures of himself in drag hadn't died down one bit, and for days, the student body had pointed their fingers at him whenever they saw him.

Their treatment wasn't any different from any time before. Just as irate and nonsensical as always. It was simply a new ingredient to the poison they spouted at him. Poison he was forced to swallow.

He recovered himself from his fetal position and stepped his feet down on the floor. His head poked out from the slightly-opened stall door and checked if there was anyone around. There was no one in sight, so he stepped out, albeit his body was still tense. His pursuer could've easily stepped out a moment just to come back in and surprise him just for the hell of it.

Damn you Zack.

He didn't need him right now. Nor did he need anyone. He couldn't risk it.

The doors hinges slipped loudly and he sprung. He dare not look at the guy for it could've been anyone. And nobody liked to see him staring at their eyes like they were equals. He fought himself from running back into the stalls, his head bent down towards the sink as the fur passed behind him and started washing his hands beside him. It couldn't have been Zack, if it was then he would've already noticed Alphonse and bothered him. He mimed the other fur's actions, turning the knob of the faucet and pretending to wash his own hands.

Still with his head bent down, he looked up and watched the fur's reflection.

"Oh, it's you."

The tiger turned his eyes towards Alphonse's reflection. He actually looked down on Alphonse with his slitted, golden eyes and Alphonse paled under his glare, and for a second, he wanted to run back to the stalls and wait until the tiger goes out. But it was unnecessary

Gideon Scotts would never hurt him physically despite of his larger build. A football player by form and by nature. He towers over his athletic peers by more than a few inches, and ideally had become both a player and a bare mascot during the games, usually wearing nothing but leather pants over his calves and legs, comparable to those of a professional bodybuilder's. He had yellow fur starting from his behind, up towards his forehead with stripes of unbroken black. White fur covered his front from his pectorals downwards to his muscle gut, gotten from his usual afterschool raves of alcohol with his friends. He could've been a military instructor, being built like a tank with brawny, sinuous muscles that dominated the whole of his body. He easily dwarfed any of his opponents on the field.

Alphonse was so much smaller in comparison and he should've been afraid of the man. He was light and lithe, and compared to Gideon, he was a walking furball of a stick. True to Alphonse's unique nature, he was unlike the usual red-orange of foxes. He had shimmy, light red fur, like that of a human redhead. His muzzle, down to his flat tummy was covered with white, paintbrush-like red tail ending with a touch of cream.

His distant, reddish-brown eyes gazed up at Gideon's reflection, unfazed by the tiger's glare. Not one bit.

"What's the school's faggot doin here? Hiding?" Gideon jeered. His choice of words insulted Alphonse to his skin. He wanted to punch the guy square in the stomach, but he'd be considered masochistic for hurting his fists under the wall of the jock's gut.

He shrugged, turned the faucet off and drew an article from his bag. He turned to Gideon and stared at him directly as he waved the picture on the tiger's face, not at all conscious that Gideon could've mauled him to death.

"Was it you?" he asked, his tone accusatory.

Gideon frowned, and his feline eyes glinted with something atypical for a jock. He turned around, ears turned with his head, as if he was expecting that the walls were listening on their conversation. He bent his head down to Alphonse and scratched his neck before he spoke, "Wasn't me." he said. His tone no longer had that insulting quality to it, nor did he say any word that was synonymous to fag that the school jocks seemed to use every time they 'talked' to him.

Gideon's manner changed. His broad shoulders slumped down, and he was looking at Alphonse like they were of equal standing.

Alphonse exhaled. "Thought so." he said and put the picture back on his bag along with the other similar flyers.

The expression on Gideon's eyes became clearer as his gaze became steadier towards Alphonse's. Shame. "Sorry." he said, "It's not mine, probably came from the other boys."

Alphonse shook his head, "It's okay Gid. You've been a big help." he said, "Just tell me if you know something, 'kay?"

Gideon nodded, and his muzzle curved to reveal his sharp teeth, "I'll find out. For you."

Alphonse smiled back. He patted Gideon's shoulders, and squeezed on his muscles for a bit, "Glad to hear big boy." he winked, "Be there on Friday?"

He nodded, and his smile turned to a full-blown grin, his pointed, black-tipped ears wiggled in giddy motion, "Black trench coat. Sunglasses. Fedora--"

"Cologne?" Alphonse asked.

Gideon chuckled, "You already know."

Alphonse giggled, a short, feminine sound. Before he turned away and walk out, however, Gideon's strong hand landed on his shoulders and squeezed.

"You're beautiful. Don't let them make you think otherwise."

Alphonse shrugged and eyed him a cautious look, "Careful. Someone might be listening."

With that, he left the men's room. Gideon soon left as well. They went opposite ways on the hall and Alphonse turned his head to look at Gideon's retreating form. The tiger's posture changed in a few seconds. His lifeless striped-tail rose and waggled on his back, slumped shoulders were relaxed backwards as he puffed his chest out. His strides--he, became more arrogant as he took the middle lane of the hall, the few students loitering around at this time of day quickly stepped aside before they got trampled to death by the football player. At that moment, Gideon Scotts turned into full-on Jock Mode.

Alphonse shook his head in disbelief as he walked to his class. He was a believer that there exists in every football team, a closeted homosexual. Gideon was one such man. It was a dangerous and potentially humiliating position to be in. The whole student body could brand a new school Pariah if they learn of Gideon's secret, which was more susceptible to prying eyes than the tiger thought. Bad luck(and Alphonse's fortune) had become the cause of Gideon's secret to revelation.

He'd become his inside man ever since.

They've already gone past the phase of blackmailing, and instead secretly supported each other in good intention. Sure, Gideon pretended to be one of them, but he'd always text him afterwards on Alphonse's ramshackled Nokia cellphone to send his apologies. That was enough for Alphonse. Gideon was probably the closest friend he could ever get, but the tiger's secrecy always kept him at a safe distance from Alphonse. It was the perfect scenario for the fox.

Alphonse went to his final class for the day: Drama. The subject that was also his life. He had enough talent and he wasn't afraid to flaunt it. Hell, he will flaunt it if it was the last thing he anchored his self-worth up on. It was the whole thing that led him to the drag scene in the first place. His classmates were jealous, talentless bitches and that's why they spouted their insults to him. The Drama subject wasn't required at their school and one would wonder why they're taking it in the first place

The theater at their school wasn't large. It was located at the far rear of the school, where nobody bothers to go unless it was required. Or if there was news of a naked cheerleader streaking her boobs out. It was a completely separate building to all the others of the school, containing cracked, ashen columns on its front which used to be white sometime in the past. The inside was less spectacular, only able to contain about half a thousand of people at a time versus to the many thousands the high school's open football field can. The oaken wood of the place had long been consumed by termites and the floors were comparable to an anemic person at best. Feral mice and cockroaches had long resided under the dark holes on the floors, forever mating and multiplying to run across the stage to spook the students out during their performances. Dust motes were visible from the rays of the spotlight, the red, giant drapes at the stage were faded, and it had been a decade since it had been replaced or washed. It was held to the side by withered ropes which could've been scorched ones or twice by one of the emo-arsonist students that seemed to frequent the Drama subject.

His classmates were seated at the front-row by the aisle and Alphonse took his own by the far side, wanting to be invisible at that moment. He hadn't the energy to perform for the day having spent most of his energy by running from Zack and simultaneously ripping off the offensive flyers from the walls.

Mr. Crowley was at the stage, a clipboard and a marker on his hands, taking their attendance. He was(unsurprisingly) a crow with black feathers and golden eyes. If he had been feral, he would've already pecked the living daylights out of the squeaking mice from somewhere on the stage, no doubt mating. He was already at his 30's but it wasn't at all obvious with the fluidity of his swaying hips as he spelled their names out one-by-one in a high-pitched sing-songy voice.

Eventually, he screeched the fox's name out, "Aaalphooonse?"

Alphonse melted on his seat, as he raised his hand, "...Here."

"Oh gooood, I was wondering if you'd show up. Have you gotten rid of the flyers yet?" he asked, his query brought many yaps from the students. The whole school knew.

Alphonse dug his paw into his backpack and raised the stack of flyers up. All one-hundred and fifty seven of them, "Here."

"Spleeendid! We'll have use for those later."

Alphonse further melted into his seat. Dang.

Mr. Crowley continued their attendance and just as he arrived at the surnames starting with 'S', Gideon Scotts came striding at the aisle. His walk was slow and deliberate. He seated himself at the last chair opposite to Alphonse's side of the theatre and spread his legs outwards, suggestively showing his groin. He didn't look like he cared if he was almost late.

Crowley raised an eyebrow at him, "Glad you could join us Mr. Scotts. Care to explain why you're late?"

Gideon merely looked at Crowley from his periphery, "Fffehh."

Dude's good, Alphonse thought. He had perfected the mask. He could've gone to broadway just as Alphonse could.

Crowley, however, wasn't at all pleased. "I'm subtracting that from your grades." Crowley said sternly, if that was possible, "Next."

He finished taking their attendance, and soon their class started. Alphonse didn't listen to Crowley's lesson. He already learned and memorized the lines from Shakespeare's plays. But he had to keep himself alert, because soon...

"Mr. Peeeeerils, could you recite Act I of Hamlet? Mr. Houston, recite it with him."

Alphonse groaned inwardly. He'd become Crowley's pet in the class, always demanding him to partner with a random student and recite a whole scene. Alphonse didn't mind though. He enjoyed his display of skill and it was a constant leverage to his self-esteem. His partner, however, wasn't at all as motivated as he was. They both stepped up to the stage and his classmates hooted at Alphonse. He ignored them. All the while, he kept his head up, swayed his bushy tail and stuck his tongue out at them.

Crowley handed both of them their booklets, his partner one of them. Alphonse discarded his to the ground and stepped on it and crossed his arms to the general direction of the class.

"Show off!" Alphonse heard a familiar voice shout. It was Gideon.

Alphonse grinned to himself. It was Gideon's indirect way of saying "Good job."

He huffed and braced himself for a long ride, turned to his partner then took the lead of their scene.

"Who's there?"

They enacted the whole of the scene. His partner struggled with reading the words from the script while Alphonse recited his part(or parts) without difficulty. By the time they were at the part of Francisco, Horatio and Marcellus; Alphonse was already reciting the parts of what should've been for two people, which was awkward because he sounded like he was talking and answering his own questions. His professionalism and expertise dictated him to talk in different tones and present himself in different postures. His partner, on the other hand was monotonous althroughout his dialogue. Alphonse thought him retarded, and out of spite, closed the distance between them to the point he practically dry humped his partner's side--All of it. It drew another round of hoots from his classmate, and Alphonse enjoyed his partner's share off the humiliation all the way.

Crowley smacked Alphonse's partner everytime he committed a mistake and the exchange took the whole of their period, and longer if his partner chanced to take the roles with the longer dialogue. Thankfully, he didn't, and by the time they finished, everyone except Gideon and the three of them on the stage were half asleep.

Crowley clapped his feathered hands together and yelled, "Dismissed."

The students stirred from their sleep and yawned before they took their bags and went out in a file out from the theater. Alphonse's partner rubbed his head and gave Crowley and Alphonse a reproachful look before he too, exited the theater.

Crowley shook his head, "Children these days." he said disbelievingly. He no longer had that sing-songy tone on his voice and instead, spoke in a low-pitched bellow. He turned towards a seat towards the side of the theater and held his arms at angle on his hips, "And you Mr. Scotts!" he yelled. Alphonse snickered.

"--That was very convincing!"

Gideon chuckled and rose from his seat. He grinned and bowed to both of them with his arms to his stomach. In that instant, he transformed again before Alphonse's eyes, turning from Jock to friend. Alphonse motioned his hands towards the door and Gideon nodded. The tiger pushed the double doors close and locked it with a click before he sat himself on the chairs along the aisle.

Alphonse himself took his leave from the stage and sat beside the tiger. Gideon smiled at him and Alphonse returned it, "Good job big guy."

"Heh, I try." Gideon said, then searched his eyes on Alphonse. He narrowed his eyebrows and asked, "Where's your glasses?"

Alphonse made a disgruntled sound, "Broken."

"What?"

Alphonse waved his hand dismissively, "It's not your friends, don't worry."

"Friends." he scoffed, "Then who?"

"Zack Gladwell." Crowley said from the stage and both of them looked up at him, "Quite a specimen if you ask me. Have you seen his face? Oh and the way he rubbed that scrumptious rump of his was delicious!" he said and both of them couldn't agree more. Zack is quite a specimen.

Crowley unloosened the buttons of his dress shirt's cuffs and pulled them up to his elbows. He groaned, "Ugh! Have you two ever worn this kind of shirt? It's highly unladylike!'

Alphonse chuckled at Crowley's antics. He was gay. Obviously, with the sing-songy voice. Of course, he also knew about Gideon. It was a given. The tiger wouldn't be here as his real self if Crowley didn't know. He was Alphonse's talent instructor and manager. Alphonse wouldn't have been as good as he was if it had not been for Crowley's training and advice--One part of which, were to be bold during Alphonse's performance. They just didn't expect it would be the time they learn that one of the school's jocks was gay. Just like Alphonse did, Crowley understood Gideon's position.

Crowley understood Gideon's position, but he wasn't near as nice as Alphonse was. There was an agreement between the three of them: That Gideon become another one of Crowley's protégé. Alphonse thought it was mostly because Crowley liked seeing Gideon's muscly bod. Alphonse himself didn't mind it. Muscles are hot.

Gideon's pretend-jock was serious acting in itself and to Crowley's surprise, the tiger already memorized most of Shakespeare and could act the scenes out as well as Alphonse could. The fox and the tiger weren't merely secret friends, they were also secret rivals. They were Crowley's protégé.

Alphonse stood from his seat and said, "Shall we start?"

"Just after I g-get this damn thing off of--Whew." Crowley said, finally able to button the cuffs on his upper arms.

"Prissy faggots!" Gideon yelled to both of them, now seated back with his legs spread apart. He grumbled under his breath, the words barely making sense.

"Do all jocks do that or are you losing your touch?" Alphonse teased.

"Only Butch." Gideon said, "I got the sitting position from him--Like he's expecting someone to blow him."

Alphonse giggled, "Does he even have anything worth blowing?"

"Nay. He's got a teenie weenie wiener. Cocktail size. Not even worth calling a cock--"

"Boys. Save the bathroom talk for later. Let's not waste time shall we? And Gideon, that shirt's looking really tight for you. Mind taking it off?"

Gideon stuck his tongue out Crowley and they proceeded with their tutorial. The two of them went to the stage and Crowley sat at the chairs to watch, wearing a crude look on his face. Alphonse himself wore the same expression for a short while. There was still that damn shirt on Gideon's bod.

Gideon was tasked to improve his Jock act while Alphonse was to improve his feminine act. Under Crowley's supervision, people have come to believe Alphonse to be a faux queen rather than Drag Queen. With a sway on his hips and a softened voice, he turned from gay to girl.

Foxes were blessed(or cursed) with smaller and slimmer frames than any other breeds. True that otters had frames just as toned as foxes were but they were naturally athletic rather than lithe, with muscles that were mannish than feminine. And they lacked the bushy tail to turn people's attention from their more conspicuous cushion-filled bras to their smooth, round, pieces of rumps.

Alphonse and Gideon's afterschool tutorials were a private improvisational theatre as much as it was a duel. They act out of their immediate thoughts and decieve the other. It was a game of chess. They take turns reeling the other in, setting traps and a few fake slips to turn the tides of deception. It was a trickier challenge since they knew the other was acting.

Gideon's style was different from Alphonse's. He'd come to mimick the arrogant habits of his teammates: From Alvin's constant womanizing to Darrick's inability to count from one to ten.

The tiger was smarter than he lets on, cunning enough to dispel Alphonse's notion that he would not be violent during their exchange. But Alphonse was just as trained as he was and he dispelled Gideon's assumption that he would not just be physical but also sexual in his advances. Presently, Alphonse had himself at a check and possible checkmate from what could only be a rape scene.

Gideon pinned Alphonse to the wall with a grip on the fox's collar. The fox writhed and made a conscious twitch of his cheek muscles and quiver of his lips. Gideon bore his weight forward to Alphonse's body until his muzzle was direct to Alphonse's flopped-down ears and the fox heard the truck-engine sound of Gideon's ragged breaths. He could feel the wetness of Gideon's lips on his ears, and Alphonse strained from letting his sheathe from swelling. Gideon, snarled and bared his fangs, "Beg for it--" he said with a careful exhale of breath to his face.

"--Boy."

Damn. He good.

Alphonse yelled, his voice surged ten octaves higher, "N-no please! I-I'm pregnant!"

Gideon growled at him, "You lying cunt." he said and pulled Alphonse from the wall and threw him to the floor. Alphonse's body skidded against the ground, the throw was half-hearted, but Alphonse gasped and clutched his chest for breath. He pushed himself up and fell back down with a thud and cried. His legs were bent in a sharp angle and he pleaded with his wide-eyes at the approaching figure of Gideon. Gideon stood over the limp body of Alphonse, he puffed his chest out and flexed his muscle in angered tension. His glare never left Alphonse and the fox whimpered in resolute defeat.

He whimpered, "Please. Just finish it."

Gideon smirked and suddenly descended to sit on his stomach. Alphonse screamed. Gideon wasn't acting anymore. This was real. He could only cry as his aching tummy bore the bulk of the larger tiger. A shock of pain crawled against his skin like insects and caused tears to form on his eyes, but Gideon only laughed at him. He gasped, his brain was going on overload. The asphyxiation from the lack of air threatened to lose him of his consciousness.

"Does this make you hard, boy?" Gideon taunted. The tiger's hand came hard on his groin and Alphonse gasped at the sudden intrusion of his nether regions.

"No! Not my puss--"

"It's a fucking penis you fucking moron!"

With a roar, Gideon's fists found his face.

Checkmate.

He blacked out.

"Oh shit!" Crowley yelled from his seat.

Gideon jumped away from Alphonse's stomach and kneeled by the fox's side, Crowley was there soon after. Alphonse lay unconscious like a dead rat, crimson liquid leaked from his muzzle, his breath was in an unsteady rhythm. Crowley pushed his feathered fingers on Alphonse's neck to check for his pulse. Gideon's eyes gaped at the sight of Alphonse's unconscious figure, his teeth clattered as he muttered his apologies.

Crowley screamed, "Why the hell did you have to punch him?"

"I didn't know he'd faint I was going light on him, and he, h-he--"

"He's bleeding you moron."

"I didn't punch him that hard!"

Alphonse opened his eyes. He laughed.

They turned their faces to Alphonse.

The fox rested his arms under his head and grinned to both of them as if nothing had happened. Satisfied with the wide-mouthed reaction of the two, he licked his lips of the sweet red liquid seeping from his muzzle and stuck his tongue out at them and spoke, "Did I win?"

Gideon bared his fangs and growled, his fist slammed on the ground as he cursed. Crowley, who they always fail to trick seemed genuinely surprised, his beak opened mountains apart. It took a long moment before the two could calm themselves down. Slowly, their contorted faces regained their composure.

"Damn you Perils." Gideon said and his snarl soon turned into a leer, "How the hell did you do that?"

"Oh this?" he said casually, rubbing his fingers at the bloody liquid and licked them dry with his tongue, "Nutrition gels, convincing, eh?"

"Eh?" Gideon said angrily, "Fucking Eh? You fucking cheat."

"Hey now, it wouldn't have worked if you didn't punch me."

Gideon snapped his fingers, "Damn it, and I thought I had you cornered. How'd you know I'd punch you?"

Alphonse eyed him thoughtfully, "Jocks punch everyone everyday. I figured you'd do that as well."

"Even to a lady?" Crowley asked.

Alphonse shook his fingers to both of them, "Correction. He did not think I was a lady. I was a boy. A pregnant boy." He said and rubbed his belly, "Damn, I think I just had a miscarriage."

"Smartass." Gideon grumbled, folding his arms on his chest, "I should've raped you when I had the chance."

Alphonse patted Gideon's back, "I didn't know you had such fetishes, and here I thought you were a decent man."

The tiger narrowed his eyes at him and opened his muzzle to speak. He seemed to hesitate but a second later, he closed his muzzle and chose silence. Crowley's rise signaled the two of them to stand as well. They stepped down from the theatre but not before Alphonse noticed the hole from where Gideon planted his fists at.

"Sore loser much?" Alphonse said.

Gideon snorted, "I'm a jock. I don't take losses lightly."

"You're not a jock," Alphonse said, "You're Gideon."

Gideon frowned, "You think you've got me figured out don't you?"

Alphonse shook his head, "Your mind's deeper than any muscle you've got, but you'd never hurt anyone without good reason. You're Gideon like that."

Gideon shrugged him off and said no reply. The two of them went back to the aisle and Crowley held his hand out to Alphonse, pointing at his bag and waved his fingers towards his feathered body. Alphonse nodded and took the flyers out from his bag and dropped the huge stack on Crowley's outstretched hands. He scowled.

Really? A hundred copies? For him?

"Now...What do we do with these?" Crowley asked. He sat himself beside Gideon and crossed his legs, the two of them leaning in to see Crowley skim on the papers. Alphonse suppressed an inward gasp, seeing the abhorrent words written on some of the papers. Gideon winced at the sight of the horrible insults and reached for Alphonse's shoulders to give him a comforting back rub.

"Tsk tsk. They can't even spell 'faggot' correctly." Crowley said and Alphonse slightly sniggered at that, "How're you holding up?" he asked.

The fox shrugged, "Used to it."

"Don't you feel at all scared with this?" Gideon said, "They're already intruding."

Alphonse shivered. They could've followed him.

"Was it that Zack Gladwell guy?" Crowley asked, "That one you punched?"

Gideon's eyes widened at the revelation. Alphonse remembered he wasn't there when he caused that scene, "You punched someone?"

Alphonse nodded, blushing, "Ended up punching the wrong guy, didn't know he wasn't a jock."

"And you were there? Why didn't you stop him? You're part of the faculty for Christ's sake." Gideon yelled, his brows furrowed with eyes honing in on Crowley.

Alphonse smelled an argument coming. Gideon did not like Violence despite of his jock act, the only time being violence directed at his teammates. And he wasn't having enough of that. Crowley, on the other hand, loved entertainment. The image of two teenage boys gnawing at each other's youthful bodies was too much to pass on.

Crowley's cheek muscles twitched and Alphonse sensed an insult directed to Gideon coming. Before Crowley could speak though, the fox interjected, "--At least we've got free publicity?" he said and kneaded Gideon's clawed hands. The tiger relaxed at Alphonse's touch, claws slipping back to their sheath.

"I checked again," Gideon said to Alphonse but kept his gaze at the crow, "It wasn't one of the boys."

"Thanks." Was all Alphonse said, he shoved Gideon back down to his seat, the tiger letting Alphonse carry his weight down and eyed him warily.

Gideon spoke, "Just looking out for you. Sorry."

"Thanks." Alphonse said again, this time, sending a half-mouthed smile at the tiger.

A knock came on the door.

The three of them turned their heads. Crowley eyed the two of them suspiciously, "You two expecting someone?"

The shook their heads.

"Then who--"

"Alphonse!"

That voice...

"Shit! How'd he know he was here?" Al said, shooting up from his seat. The bastard Zack must've followed him here. He'd been chasing him for the past days and Alphonse had increasingly become more desperate in getting rid of him. It wouldn't do him good to cause a scene again, he was decidedly already a leper and anything he'll do would be held against him. Even if he accidentally spilled something on Zack's shirt then in the end, he'll be the jerk and not Zack despite of the Husky's constant harassment. The disparity between their popularity was too much, too excessive that Alphonse questioned how Zack became popular in the first place. He was good-looking, yes, a womanizer, definitely. Do they know he was gay? Not at all.

It was unfair. The juicy info was supposed to be a leverage over Zack--and potentially blackmail material to stop him from chasing him around. But the information coming from him? It would be passed on as myth rather than fact. They wouldn't believe him despite of the constant chasing. The school populace simply thought Zack was vengeful and gladly stepped aside whenever Al was running, which was why he took the liberties of hiding on a bathroom stall. But why him?

It occurred to him that he became the target of the angst of a closeted gay guy.

The door quaked and the slams came harder, the dust clinging from the centuries-old door flew off in a puff of brown crystal motes. Alphonse growled. The bastard Zack really deserved a punch right now. He stormed the aisle in an explosion of frantic steps until he was directly at front of the door. The person from the other side was shouting so loud that the sound permeated through the cracks of the thick barren oak door, without a care if anyone was listening. But then again, it's not as if anyone would be around here at this time of day.

Alphonse growled and was about to undo the lock on the door when Gideon held him by the shoulders and prevented him from doing so. He turned to the tiger with a pissed expression on his face, "What!?"

Gideon flinched over Alphonse's glare but it was gone in an instant. He licked his lips and spoke with a silent voice, "He might see me." he said and Alphonse mentally slapped himself for his impulsiveness.

"S-sorry," he stuttered.

Gideon nodded in a feeble motion, "I'll hide behind the curtains."

That's when the rusted locks snapped off.

"Shit! Hide!"

Gideon, however didn't move. He stood there and Alphonse's muzzle gaped at the tiger's inaction. His eyes darted from Gideon to the door. The barren wood moved, creaking like claws against blackboard. He pushed on Gideon and begged for him to hurry, but the tiger wouldn't budge. He was frozen in place. Alphonse looked at his face in horror and that's when he understood.

Gideon's muzzle was laid in a thick line, his canines briefly visible by the sides. His golden slitted eyes burned with rage and anger that wasn't present a minute ago, muscles pumped with his chest puffed out. He grinned at Alphonse for a fleeting second before he turned his eyes back to the door and frowned. He was in Jock mode again.

The door opened halfway and the nasty husky's nose came poking in. He sniffed, like he's expecting some kind of magical bread baking in the theatre. Alphonse tensed; his bushy tail falling dead on the dusty ground. Another nose poked in a few inches below the other one, then its skin folded to show white gleaming teeth. Then they inched their faces in and their body came afterwards. Lulu stood sideway with a hand on her hip, grinning with her impish eyes honed on Alphonse. Zack was beside her, standing with a rigid posture. He looked between Alphonse and Gideon, and narrowed his gaze, at the tiger.

A deep rumble rolled on Gideon's chest and snarled to both of the huskies, though neither of them showed any reaction. Zack challenged the tiger's threat by crossing his flexed arms over his chest, unwavering eyes boring into Gideon's golden slits.

Alphonse watched them, his lips quivered, tremors crawling underneath his fur. Are they gonna fight? He wasn't sure, but there was a battle of wills occurring. Eye-to-eye and body-to-body, they were showing their possessed strength in an attempt to terrorize the other's resolve. Alphonse turned to look back to Crowley for help, but damn him, he wasn't willing to. The crow wasn't showing any movement from his seat and though he was far away, Alphonse could see his body vibrate like he was stopping himself from laughing.

Gideon made a threatening step toward Zack, his sneakers fell like a hollow barrel on the floor. Alphonse flinched. A fight would ensue if he didn't stop this, but he hesitated, stood rooted on the ground. He was a twig compared to the two! He wouldn't stand a chance if he got caught up in between their fists! Gideon took another step forward, only a few feet from Zack. The husky still hadn't shown any sign of fear or desire to back down. No. They were the same. Both had to keep up an appearance of toughness out of their pride. Nobody's stepping down without a fight. Alphonse's mind reeled, scrambling for a way to stop a fight from breaking out. He could tell them that they were both gay, but it wasn't his choice from telling that, wasn't it? It could only mean to infuriate both of them and they'd call each other faggots and they'd fight anyway. He carried his heels forward, to step in and drag Gideon away, but suddenly, the tiger leapt, his heels sprung forward as he growled. Zack didn't budge, a frown shaped on his muzzle. Gideon was only a foot away, murder in his eyes, he readied his claws, flexing them and with the last few inches, he pointed it like a dagger to Zack's face and rolled out a thundering roar.

Lulu stepped in.

Gideon suddenly stopped, his claws only a few inches from the grinning tall husky's face. The tiger suddenly jumped back, his face harboring a genuine expression of surprise.

Lulu smirked and spoke, "My, what big teeth you have!"

Both Gideon and Alphonse flinched at the reckless piece of a female husky. Gideon glowered, apparently sensing his mask was blown to bits because of a moment of carelessness. He recovered and tugged his cheeks to form a grin towards Lulu's direction.

"My, what big tits you have!" Gideon said, then he stepped towards Lulu's side and walked past the two of them and headed towards the door. Before he could disappear though, he turned to Zack and said, "Looking forward to fuck your sister, bitch." And he was gone.

There was a span of tense silence between them, a time no one moved nor spoke. The musky scent of the theatre suddenly suspended their breaths in a heavy and heady grasp of invisible wind.

It was Lulu who made the first move, giggling then patting Zack on the back, "You can breathe now."

Zack stayed silent, stood still like a statue that Alphonse thought he might've fainted with his eyes open while standing up. He thought he saw Zack's body move for a fraction of a second, then Alphonse traced his eyes down towards the husky's legs. He was trembling.

He scoffed to himself. Men and their appearances.

"Oh hey Al!" Lulu said with a squeal, "We've been--" She stopped when Zack bumped her ribs with his elbow, "--I mean I've been looking for you! Oh and, hey Mark!" She said to Crowley.

Alphonse turned to the crow and saw Crowley waving at them. The crow rose from his seat and went towards them. Alphonse eyed the two of them like they were criminals. Mark Crowley held his feathered hands out but Lulu swatted it away and speedily gave the crow a hug. Crowley squawked at the sudden gesture but returned it.

"Girly!" Crowley yelled excitedly.

"Marky!"

They bounced up and down while squealing like school girls, Lulu's boobs jiggled while some of Crowley's black feathers withered and fell on a heap on the floor. They giggled and gossiped, their exchange sounding too natural to be complete strangers. Crowley's eyes were twisted in a mischievous gaze towards Lulu and Alphonse gaped. They knew each other? Then that means...

"Sorry Al, forgot to tell you I was expecting someone." Crowley said.

Alphonse fumed, "You forgot? You forgot!? You could've--" He stopped. He meant to say 'expose Gideon' but he thanked God it didn't slip from his tongue. Instead, he bit on his lips and balled his paws into fists. He stomped towards the front and recovered his bag.

Tired. He was tired of the surprises, enough was enough. He had to go. Away from Zack and away from his tricksy tutor of a crow and his scandalous friend of a husky.

"Where are you going?" Lulu asked.

Alphonse glared at her and Crowley, "Leaving." he said harshly, and passed by Zack, but not before the husky had a grip on his arm and pulled him back. He huffed at the sudden movement and scowled at the offending husky.

"What the hell do you want from me?"

Zack eyed him blankly. He used his other paw to reach his pants' pocket, drawing out a stack of paper and what looks like new glasses. He shoved it to Alphonse's paws, "Flyers. New glasses. Sorry. I'm out." Then he was gone, left like Gideon did.

Alphonse muttered under his breath. Dammit, he thought, What is it with him and closeted gay guys?

He stepped out of the theatre, Lulu calling him as he left, but he ignored her. Zack was nowhere in sight. He should be, his cold actions told Alphonse clearly that he didn't want to reveal himself talking to Alphonse in public which meant that Crowley didn't know that he was, indeed, gay. Right now, despite of his indignation over Crowley's negligence of keeping his(and most especially, Gideon's) afterschool meeting a secret, was thankful that the crow had become a temporary armor against Zack's hassling, just before he arrives to the hallway where there'll be an audience. No, Zack can't talk to him.

Perhaps the two huskies might be wondering why he's so cold towards them despite their good-natured separation. If they do, then he'll simply say that he wasn't into the clingy type. They both were.

It was only a few hours before dusk, a vibrant hue of red-orange and dry heat lightly touched the open football field's grasses and the bleachers where a bunch of swooning cheerleaders were watching. The bulky bodies of the football players were laden with equipment, the tackles they delivered bruising their peers as they threw themselves against each other. The players bawled an incessant round of growls and grunts. Gideon was among them, either tackling or shouting curses towards his teammate's incompetence or stupidity. Alphonse took the route beside the field as a shortcut to his night job. It was a hazardous course, the jock's testosterones were at the peak of their raging point and they could've terrorized Alphonse if they saw him. Despite of their coach's presence during their practices, he wouldn't stop his team if they did it. Alphonse was a practice doll for his players.

But Gideon will. All the more making it the safest place to be in.

He thought he saw a player--Butch probably?--look at his direction. A snarl formed on the jock's face and dropped his drills to stomp his way towards Alphonse's direction. The fox simply smiled. A second later, a huge hunk of a tiger charged and tackled the unsuspecting jock to the ground. Yes, he chuckled. He's enjoying this, and so was Gideon. It gave the tiger an excuse to vent his anger towards his teammates and both of them love every part of it.

Alphonse waved his bushy tail to and fro and flashed a smirk to Gideon's direction before he left. Several minutes later, he made his way above the bridge where he and Zack fell. He left the line separating the areas between safe to unsafe, entering the district he lived in.

He grimaced and drew out the glasses from his pockets.

The fake ones he had lay in a stack of glass shards and plastic rim back in his home. He had tried to glue them all back together but it was a futile effort and if he were to wear it at school then he'd attract more attention than was necessary.

The glasses Zack gave him was thin rimmed, made from light metal lined with a shimmery red tint. The cut-glass was flawless to the touch, lacked any scratch or dent. He recognized the writing on the earpiece as an expensive brand and if Alphonse was ever to buy this pair with his own earnings, it would've taken him a fourth of the year to earn even half of what it's worth--more than a thousand dollars. The price tag was still attached. The damned Zack must've done it to spite him. He put it on and found himself in an awkward march. His vision blurred in a flurry of colors, cars and dark alleys and the nosepiece was too low down on his muzzle for comfort.

Tsch, can't even do it right.