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Hello, all. *friendly rumble*

Welcome to Episode 6 of Free Association. If you're new to the series, I recommend you start at the beginning.

I think we're starting to get to the really interesting part of FA with this chapter, heh. Hope you guys enjoy it.

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_ Wednesday. _

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It was the early evening of a late autumn night. The sun had already set, leaving the sky a steely, overcast blue-gray, quickly deepening toward black. The pavement was wet, the air humid; it had been drizzling off and on all day, but right now the only disagreeable weather was a blustery breeze that cut through cloth and fur alike. It was no more or less busy than was typical for a weekday night - a few furs came and went in most places, quite a few in commercial areas.

In one relatively quiet neighborhood, a tall lupine in dark blue jeans and a leather jacket rounded the corner of an imposing, utilitarian brick building, pacing down the block to the awning overhanging the main entrance. Beside the door, another fur was leaning against the wall, and his eyes met the other's as he transferred his weight back to his footpaws.

"Evening," the wolf said, polite and pleasant, pulling his paws from his pockets.

His companion, a raccoon, had to look up at him slightly, even from several feet away. "Hi," he said, somewhat more reserved, but he smiled despite his shyness. His windbreaker, gray with yellow hems and collar, was open in the front to reveal a darkish blue polo; his jeans were dark gray, almost black.

"You ready?" Brad asked, breath huffing in the wet air. He hoped it wouldn't rain. He hoped his nervousness wasn't too obvious. He hoped tonight would go well. A lot of his thoughts were hopeful, right now. Or, in actuality, anxious. Why did they call feelings like these 'hope'? Hope was a positive feeling. This was almost painful.

"Yup." The raccoon gave him a little nod, another smile.

They set off, heading back around the building to the parking lot. Brad wondered if he ought to say anything. What level of conversation was appropriate, desirable, necessary? If they didn't say anything, was it a sign that things were going poorly, or well? At least the silence wasn't awkward, right?

Make no mistake about it, Brad couldn't ever recall feeling this nervous about a first date. He wasn't exactly (or perhaps hardly) a prince charming, but he could show a guy a good time, and was confident in his ability to do so.

Usually.

Come to think of it, eight months of relative chastity and several of Dillon being... Dillon... before that might have something to do with his tanking confidence.

After he'd finished talking to Jonathon last night, he'd checked a couple things on the internet, and then gone to bed out of fatigue. That, and he wanted to be alert for his date. Oh, and he wanted to get to work on time. Right. That too. And he had not - emphatically had not - pawed off to the cute raccoon now pacing by his side. The thought had been all too tempting, but there was something creepy about doing that this early, before he'd really even expressed a sexual interest in the raccoon. Brad wasn't a creepy guy. At least, he didn't like to think that he was. He wanted this to be something meaningful, something serious.

Still, it had been too hard to get the procyonid out of his head, so he'd settled for just rolling over and stuffing his paws under the pillow instead of the usual. Just like the night before, the night he'd first met Jonathon. Maybe he had to put a bit of effort into not being creepy, after all. It was worth it, to distinguish between 'I wanna fuck you,' and 'I have been pawing to you nonstop since we first met!'

Brad snorted, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

"What?" Jonathon asked, curiously.

"Nothing, just thinking of silly things. Sorry about the car-tastrophe," he said, giving the automobile a sad pat as he jammed his key into the sticky lock.

Jonathon giggled a little at the pun. "Heheh, it's all right, I don't even have a car." He paced around to the passenger side. "My mom had a car kinda like this one when I was a kid. A little bigger, I think."

"Reliant? LeBaron? LeSabre, maybe?"

The raccoon shruggd, sliding in. "Dunno. I don't really know cars, sorry."

"Heheh, no big deal. What's your thing, then, besides chemicals?"

Jonathon chuckled. "Well, I wouldn't rush to say I know those, either, based on my last exam... But, hm, let's see. Play any video games?"

"Eh, some," Brad replied. "I like Guitar Hero, and racing games. I'll play Halo or CoD if someone has it up, but I'm not too good at those." The car, thankfully, started right up, and the brakes weren't even squeaking.

Jonathon nodded a little; they weren't likely to find too much common ground here. "What instrument, in guitar hero?" he asked, for the sake of continuing the conversation at paw.

"Well, I have a friend who's really good and my roommate was a drummer back in high school, so I usually sing," the wolf admitted gamely.

Jonathon smiled a little at the thought. "Are you good?"

"I don't send them out of the room with their paws in their ears, so I can't be horrible, I guess." Brad shrugged. He'd never exactly put a hat down, but sometimes he'd sing to himself while loading and unloading boxes at work, too, and no one had ever told him to shut up.

"Heheh. I can't really sing. I mostly listen to techno, though, so it's okay."

"Ah, yeah, don't have much to sing, do you? See me, I'm more of a rock guy. Some metal too, but I don't do the screamy stuff, hurts my throat, heheh."

Jonathon nodded, looking out the window at the passing buildings. "I like some rock, too. Mostly classic stuff, I guess."

"Cool." Brad couldn't think of anything else to say to that; he wasn't much into classic rock.

Almost abruptly, the car was silent. Brad cranked the steering wheel, rounded a corner, came to a gradual stop at a red light, only to start again almost immediately when it turned green. Jonathon looked out the window, at the dash, and then toward Brad, smiling a little; a moment later the wolf glanced at him and smiled back.

Internally, though, he was squirming. Great. We have nothing in common.

Of course, that was silly; they'd knocked out two topics. Three if you counted cars, but Brad wasn't that big of a car nut anyway. Surely there was some eclectic interest they both shared.

Brad actually tried to think: did he have any eclectic interests?

But still... It was almost like hearing the results of an armed conflict. Video games and music. Come on, those topics were huge!

The wolf rolled his eyes to himself. A superficial lack of commonality was not going to ruin their date. He was being stupid. Quit being stupid. There, that ought to help. He almost snorted again.

Dillon hadn't liked his music either.

The wolf frowned. Thoughts like that, on the other hand, stood a good chance of ruining the date.

But damn, it was hard not to think about all the things his ex-boyfriends had said, at one point or another. Especially Dillon, who became somewhat curt after a while.

And especially especially Wallace, who became somewhat... bored... after a while.

Brad carefully put that train of thought on the rails to 'Not Now City, 7000 mi'. There'll be plenty of time and alcohol for your inadequacy later, dumbass, he scolded himself.

Fortunately, his companion provided a well-timed distraction. "So, I don't actually know what your major is," the raccoon stated.

"Oh. Uh. Well, uh, depends on who you ask, actually."

"Eh?" Jonathon gave him the weirdest look; Brad caught it in the corner of his eye.

"It's... complicated." He sighed. "All right. What I'm officially on the books for right now is an associate's in psychology. Of all fucking things, right?"

Jonathon chuckled a little. "I suppose that wasn't really what I was expecting."

"Yeah, well, my mother wanted it, and I wanted to keep borrowing money from her. Well, I didn't want to, you understand; I could probably find a private lender with a lower interest rate. But she always wanted a little doctor..." the wolf grumbled to himself. "And I'm hardly cut out for medical school, so."

"That's not what you want to do, then?"

The wolf shrugged. "Well, when I first came here after high school, I... actually wanted to do graphic design. But they wouldn't let me into the program. So... yeah, I didn't do that."

"...Oh." Jonathon said. He hadn't been expecting that, either.

"I kept taking classes for it, though, it was stupid. So I actually have like half a bachelor's, just in art. I thought maybe I could just get into the program officially later, and have all the credits taken care of," the wolf rumbled. "That, and... failed some classes, and... probably spent too much time out at bars, and stuff, 'stead of doing school stuff. Working on projects, that shit, and homework and all. This is actually my third time through this math class I'm in," he said, with a sad little chuckle. His ears were low.

The raccoon didn't seem to know what to say to that. Brad didn't really want to look at him anymore.

"So, yeah, that was about... about three years. Then, spent a year as undecided, failed a couple more classes. Mom was pissed; she didn't want me to be an artist, let alone a... whatever degree you get for being 'undecided'." The wolf snorted. "Liberal Studies or whatever. The academic counselors bitched at me a bit, and I dropped back to part-time so I could keep up, because I had to start working more or I'd never have a chance of paying off those loans." The wolf shrugged. "And mom agreed to keep paying for this shithole if I worked full time and made progress on the money I'd borrowed and kept my grades up. And changed my major to psych, and set a more realistic goal of just getting an associate's. And... that's that, I guess." He grimaced, and looked over at the raccoon, as if for approval.

"So, how long have you been in college, then?" the raccoon mused.

"Uh... this is my sixth year." The wolf scratched the side of his head, embarrassed. "Plus summer semesters, the last two summers."

"Ah." Brad had the horrible impression that the guy he was taking on a date was now convinced he was a lowlife idiot who would never amount to anything.

Hey, at least I'm IN college, right? ...Barely.

"I, uh, I think I can graduate at the end of next summer. Maybe next winter. If I can pass this stupid math class this time." He mumbled that all as one string of words.

The raccoon nodded; Brad caught the gesture in his peripheral vision. An awkward silence permeated the car, as it arced into a parking lot, passed through it, and rolled slowly down the next.

"That sounds... really awful, Brad," Jonathon said, finally. "I'm sorry for you, having to go through all that."

The wolf gulped. His stomach settled a little. "Uh, thanks. It's... it's okay now. I'm doing a lot better since I went to part time." He offered the raccoon a weak grin. "Just takes forever to get anywhere, when you're only taking two or three classes a semester."

"I just hope you'll be... happy. Since it sounds like you didn't get much of a choice in what you're doing."

"Yeah. What can you do with an associate's in psych, anyway? Ask people how it makes them feel, when they want fries with that?" The wolf snorted.

"Heh, yeah." Jonathon paused, and then looked over at the wolf, a spark of intrigue in his eyes. "I didn't know you were an artist."

"I'm not, really," Brad said, embarrassed; the car's engine ground to a halt and his seatbelt flopped limply into the space between the seat and the door. A moment later, he popped around the end of the trunk, as Jonathon opened his door. "I couldn't get in, remember? I wasn't that good. And I did Photoshop and 3D stuff, not drawing. Mostly, anyway. I'm not that great at drawing, had a hard time in the required traditional-media classes." He shrugged. "Well, except for painting, I guess."

Jonathon shut the door and strolled toward him. The wolf looked him over, as though he had only just noticed the attractive young male accompanying him on this nighttime journey. "Painting?"

"Yeah." The fur on Brad's neck was standing up a little, now, and his ears were flicked back. "Look, that was a long time ago. I don't do that stuff now."

"I see." The two strode quietly up to a small, yet refined establishment; two floors in a block of older buildings. Its modern glass front and minimalist interior were clearly products of renovation, not design. Jonathon was a bit ahead of him. Brad didn't mind in the slightest; it gave him an excuse to accord a healthy look to the raccoon's very nice rump, and its neighbor, that fluffy, flicking tail. "What kind?"

"Eh?"

"Painting. Watercolor or acrylic?"

"Oh. Uh. Oil, actually." The wolf chuckled and scratched his head.

"Cool."

Jonathon didn't ask him any more questions about art, after that, which Brad was grateful for. They were seated (Brad had made a reservation in a moment of paranoia, though it wasn't busy yet at all), menus were perused, food was discussed. Jonathon seemed as pleased with the choice of restaurant as before. Brad took off his jacket, revealing a tight black shirt beneath it. He didn't have all that much pectoral muscle to show off, and his abs were more 'washcloth' than 'washboard', but heck, if he couldn't wear tight clothing on a date, when could he wear it? At least, that's what he'd told himself after twenty minutes of dithering like a girl over his wardrobe.

"So where you from?" he asked, finally, a while after they'd ordered.

Jonathon sipped his iced tea. Wiped his mouth with the napkin. Returned it to his lap. He had very good table manners; it was intimidating. "About two hours east of here. Little town, called Fyord." He grinned a bit. "Named by someone who doesn't know how to spell norwegian words."

"Heheh. Grew up there?"

The raccoon nodded. "I was born in Kansas, actually, but we moved here when I was three."

Brad nodded. Took a swig of his soda. His tail flicked underneath the table.

"It's a nice place. Quiet," Jonathon reflected. "We're right on the edge of the big national forest, so we get some tourists through, but it's really... laid-back."

The wolf nodded again. "You're probably the only, ah, tail-swishy guy there, right?" he said, with a little grin.

Jonathon chuckled. "Yeah, I guess. They don't... know, though. Only a couple friends." He studied the table. "Town that size, that's not the sort of thing you spread around; if it got back to my parents..."

The wolf nodded sympathetically. "I'd imagine."

"You sound like you're a bit more... uh, open, though," the raccoon offered, his voice lower; he clearly didn't like discussing this in public.

Brad shrugged. "Yeah, I tell people, if I think they need to know. I've lived in the city a while, though, so it's a bit different for me."

"How about your parents?"

"Well..." the wolf said, and then paused, as the appetizer they'd ordered arrived. When the waiter had deposited their spinach and artichoke dip and tray of little baguette slices, Brad resumed. "Mom knows. Technically. She worked something out, I had to explain, and she just shook her head and never brought the subject up again. Kept acting like I never told her." Brad took a big bite of dippy-bread. "I don't think she's exactly thrilled that her only son is a queer." He chewed, brow furrowing a little as he thought about that... and then swallowed. "Bitch."

Jonathon smirked a bit at the expletive. "You... haven't mentioned your dad," he observed after a moment.

"My parents are divorced. My dad lives in a recliner with a six-pack, he's not the first person I open my heart to." The wolf snorted a bit. "Neither is Stan, come to think of it. Stepdad," he said, at Jonathon's questioning look. "Bit of a hard-ass, no sense of empathy. Married mom for her money, much as she likes to think it was for her looks."

They munched a bit after that. Sipped drinks. Talked a bit about school.

It felt... odd. Jonathon was quiet, placid, amicable. It felt more like they were on a buddy-date, than a gay-date. Too casual, not enough tension. It was nice, and yet... Brad couldn't shake the feeling that the raccoon's small smile, his laid-back, easy demeanor... were challenges. That Jonathon was watching him, and waiting to be impressed.

Brad sure didn't feel particularly impressive right now, but hopefully the door was still open.

Their entrées came. The restaurant was filling up, now, as the clock's paws moved into later evening. Brad watched the bustling flow of furs, food, and fabulation, eyes a little distant. They weren't talking much, but they were eating, so it was okay, right? The date was going okay. Right?

Abruptly, his eyes focused. Was that...

Shit.

Yes, it was.

Coming his way. Black apron asway, headfur combed diagonally, sweeping over his short forehead. The waiter stopped.

"You two doing all right?"

Jonathon nodded.

Brad sighed.

And grimaced.

He had to say it. The schnauzer had already recognized him, eyes widening a bit. He didn't think he'd ever seen a classy waiter so off-put. Thank gawd they weren't actually in his section of tables.

"Hi, Wallace," he forced out.

The canine swallowed... and then glanced to Jonathon... and then looked back to Brad. He composed himself. "Hello, Bradley," he said politely.

That's not what you used to call me, eh? Brad didn't think it was the time for statements like that. "I didn't know you worked here," he said. The 'or else we would have gone someplace different,' went unsaid, but he could tell Wallace heard it. He could still read the dog like a book.

It was Wallace's sort of place. Fancy, yet tasteful, yet carefree. The canine looked skinnier. Gaunter.

"Yes," the waiter said. Glanced at Jonathon again. Met Brad's eyes.

God, it had been a long time since he'd looked into those blue-green eyes.

In theory... they'd broken up on good terms. Wallace was just... bored. He didn't want to be monogamous any more, he said. And Brad had known that already, had known it for months. And he also knew that once the canine was seeing other men, he probably wouldn't want to see a certain wolf anymore. Wallace would never say 'I'm tired of you,' that would be crass. Not his style. But Brad had known. Oh, how he had known.

He said they could still be friends. He'd been nice about it, and somewhat apologetic. But Brad hadn't seen him once since then... and not through chance. He'd known where the schnauzer lived, where he spent his time. He'd had Wallace's number. He'd stopped going to his favorite damn coffee shop over this guy.

This guy.

He wasn't sporting his effeminate look. He was at work, not a club. Just the hairspray, and the eyes that were always large and bright, the muzzle that was always sculpted and delicate. No fur powder or anything. Probably a good thing. When he did himself up... Wallace was the sort of guy, who didn't look like a girl when he wore make-up. He looked like a guy. A guy wearing fur powder and mascara, tight t-shirts and skinny jeans. Brad liked that type. The masculine-effeminate type.

Gee, wonder who taught you that about yourself.

Wallace looked away, aside, down, back. "I, uh... I'll leave you two alone." He gave Brad a meaningful look. A look that said, 'I don't want to screw anything up.' Yeah, he'd realized this was a date.

Brad grimaced. "Uh. Good to see you, Wallace." It wasn't. It was most definitely not good to see him.

The canine glanced down, smiling a bit. Shit. Wallace could still read him, as well.

"We'll catch up later," the canine said, gently, giving Brad a pat on the shoulder as he walked off.

The wolf blinked. What exactly do we need to catch up on?

A moment later, he realized Jonathon was looking at him inquisitively. He didn't ask. He just expected an answer.

Brad swallowed. "Uh. That was Wallace. My..." He sighed. "My ex-boyfriend."

The raccoon blinked. "Oh."

"I'm really sorry about that," the wolf grumbled. "Let's... let's just pretend it didn't happen, okay?"

The raccoon nodded, and then smiled a little. "No big deal."

No big deal? You weren't sleeping with the fucker, stripy-butt! Brad hadn't imagined he was properly over the canine for an instant, but seeing him again, especially at such an extraordinarily bad time, had pretty much ruined his mood entirely. He felt like shit.

And it was worse, because now that Wallace was gone, Brad remembered that he was actually on a date.

Shit!

He had to... like, show Jonathon a good time, and stuff!

The wolf almost whined aloud, his misery swelling under a sudden onslaught of anxiety. How the hell was he going to manage to show this cute raccoon boy a good time, when he felt like shit, but he didn't want to ruin the date and possibly his chance of actually maybe having something possibly serious with Jonathon maybe. And it had only been a mediocre date so far, and they didn't seem to have all that much in common, and Brad knew he was probably a dumbass with no future when you got down to it, and he couldn't shake that intimidating feeling that Jonathon was waiting for his date to impress him, and then Wallace of all fucking people had just popped out of thin air like the ghost of relationships past...

What're you gonna do, gay boy? Cry and give up? The wolf scowled.

He wasn't going to give up. He watched Jonathon eating his salmon.

He was not going to give up.

He had to salvage this the old-fashioned way. Win not by playing the social game, but by sheer, earnest, brute romantic strength. If that wasn't impressive, he didn't have a chance.

And he had to get Jonathon to give him a chance.

Brad swallowed. Took a fortifying drink of his soda.

"I don't think I mentioned it earlier, but you look really nice tonight," he said.

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*takes paw off of drama button* Did it work? I think it worked. :3

It's a little ironic, really, that I'm publishing this one the same week as En Plein Air - I wrote most of this several weeks ahead, like all of FA, and so this artistic talk happened before EPA had even occurred to me. I'd like to say that was me getting in the mood for what is proving to be probably my most successful story yet, but in truth, I had Brad's academic history planned out well in advance - even hinted at it in Episode 1.

And one little tease: The past two days, I've been working on planning the project that I believe will be published following FA's conclusion. (That's still a ways out yet, don't worry). Thought you guys would like to know. It's going to be shorter overall, with longer chapters, and is going to be more heavily planned than FA is. And that's all you'll hear about it for a while. :3

See you guys next week.