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Hello, everyone. Welcome to Free Association, Episode 27! New readers, you're looking for that link on the left titled No Major Injuries. Trust me on this one. :3

You'll note this one is quite long, almost double the length of a normal episode. Consider it a present for being such awesome readers... Or maybe it's a present for Brad and Jonathon, for being so much fun to write.

Sorry this one is up late-ish, I spent a lot of time polishing this to be sure it was the best I could make it. A lot that had to happen in this one, and a specific way it had to be pulled off... I'm happy with it, though. In the future, if you want to check something on Fridays to be sure everything is going okay, why don't you try my twitter? I'll try to post if I'm encountering delays, and you'll see the notification from SF when I do post the episode.

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_ Friday. _

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"Aaaaaahhhhh..." Brad rumbled, sliding back slowly and rubbing his dark blue sweatervest. "I'm stuffed..."

"You gonna need a box?" the raccoon chuckled, eyeing his boyfriend's plate.

"Yeah, probably..." Brad looked a bit mournfully at his chicken piccata, and then to Jonathon's plate. "I can't believe you ate all that, that salmon was the size of your face!"

The raccoon giggled a bit. "It was also delicious... Don't think I could eat any more, though..."

"Mmmbgl..." Marty responded, around a piece of steak. He swallowed. "I'm gonna need a box toooo... I always eat so slow compared to other people, I could probably finish this... Eventually..." He licked his tusks for the hundredth time. Having the big canines jutting out from his jaw the way they did was an excellent way to get steak juice dribbling down his chin. Some male boars had them trimmed regularly; Marty just settled for filing them after he brushed his teeth, and put up with the complications they introduced to eating. After the minor drama of his younger brother getting his tusks first, the boar wasn't about to go lopping the things off. Maybe when he was older and more fed up with them.

There was a waiter distributing their receipts; they relayed their orders for containers. Brad had cash, Jonathon used a credit card. Marty, old geezer that he was, wrote a check. It was a perfectly valid method of payment, after all, and he didn't use the damn things for anything else, since all his bills were hooked up online, now, and he had like three boxes. Had to get rid of them sometime or another... and hope his bank didn't give him any more free ones!

Thirty-five dollar steak! It had been worth it, though. It'd been a while since he'd been here last... It had been just him and Brad, that time. Maybe... six months ago? Sometime in late spring or early summer.

Not too long after that fucking shark had finished playing his game.

Brad had still been a complete mess. As Marty remembered, he'd spent most of dinner with his face in his paws, talking to his friend in a monotone mutter, occasionally taking a bite. At least he'd gotten Brad out of the house.

The Brad of today was almost a different person.

Animated, eager, cheerful, even. He cast warm glances at the shy raccoon boy sitting beside him; he chattered and giggled, he carried on about how full he was and how difficult it was to get food into a container without spilling any.

The raccoon was a bit more reserved; quite a bit, really. Quieter and less prone to random bodily motion; he kept his paws close to himself and his ears moved in slow swerving shifts, contrasting Brad's excited flicks. And yet... over the course of dinner, Marty had come to the conclusion that, contrary to his initial impression, Jonathon was enjoying himself at least as much as his boyfriend.

Gosh, but he was hard to read...

Their receipts returned; they divvied out the tip with a bit of complicated math. Marty took a last gulp of his water. The cold rain returned to his experience. The three men walked quickly around the building, down to the parking lot. Streetlights lit Brad's dark gray mane, Jonathon's black-and-lighter-gray ringed tail.

Cold.

They were all too dumb to wear jackets, apparently. Marty had brought his, but he'd left it in the car for whatever reason. Real smart.

Bleh. What a shitty evening. And it was only going to get worse - the boar had only been awake for a few hours, after a night shift last night, which would be followed by a morning shift tomorrow. Sometimes they needed him on Saturday... and because of how his shifts had fallen this week, he hadn't gotten forty hours yet, even with the comp time he'd gotten on tuesday. So he had no real reason to complain... except, you know, for the fact that it was work on Saturday at three in the morning.

Marty hopped into the awful vinyl backseat of his roommate's Plymouth, shaking cold water off of his neck and shivering a bit; he grabbed his jacket and pulled it on. Brad cranked the engine. It took a moment to catch, but it did. The Plymouth lurched, rolled backward, and then forward, and they were heading back.

"So, Jonathon," the boar said conversationally, once they were underway. "Where you from?"

"Hmm? Oh." The raccoon refocused his attention on the interior of the car. "I'm from a little town a couple hours east of here."

"One of those forest towns?"

"Yeah, thereabouts, a bit outside it, actually. Little place, only a few hundred people in it. My high school was three towns over, heheh," the coon chuckled.

"Hmm, yeah, I'm from kind of a small town, too," the boar replied. "Bit bigger than that, and west of here." He hesitated. "It... must be tough, growing up in a place like that. I mean, for a gay guy." He gave a nervous chuckle.

Sudden awkward silence. Marty saw the raccoon's tail, which was curled under the front seat inches from the boar's knees, abruptly twitch, and then start shifting around anxiously.

"Uh... yeah, it was," the raccoon said, in a small voice. He didn't sound particularly keen on talking about it.

Marty fidgeted a bit. How to safely continue this conversation... "Uh... there were a couple gay guys in my high school. I was always... really nice to them. They weren't out, but... I mean, I tried to make them feel okay about it, and some of them came out... a bit more."

"Oh." Tailtwitch. "Uh. Good for you." Tailflick, flick, flick. "My high school... wasn't like that."

"You never came out to anyone until Brad?" the boar asked.

"I... no, I did... There were a couple friends... And... Some other people."

The boar processed that, awkwardly; what was Jonathon implying? "So... were you... with anyone, before Brad?"

The raccoon's tail bristled. "Not... technically."

Shit. He was screwing this up. The boar tried to steer the conversation away from school. "But... but you came out to your parents, right?" He laughed stupidly, trying to force a grin into his voice.

It was like trying to avoid a reef by steering towards the shore. There was a frozen moment of tension, and then Jonathon angrily spat, "Look, what do you want from me?!"

"Maybe you should probably not ask about that," the wolf in the driver's seat admonished. The fur on the back of his neck was standing up.

The boar cringed.

Fuck.

The tense silence continued for several long minutes. Marty sat in the backseat and felt distinctly like he had years and years ago... sitting in the car with his parents, face burning after being scolded for asking a question he shouldn't have.

"I haven't come out to my family," the raccoon said eventually, tone somewhat calmer, "and I'm... never going to, either." He was quiet for a moment. "I... can't."

The boar couldn't help himself. "You can't, or you won't?"

The raccoon's voice grew very sharp and strained. "I can't."

"Not every gay guy is like me, Marty..." the wolf said uncomfortably. It was probably cruel to make him take sides like this... but the boar still felt a surge of resentment at being sided against. "A lot of us aren't as lucky as I am, having people close to us... at least willing to tolerate it."

"You think I don't know that?" the boar huffed.

"I know you know it. I'm asking you to remember it."

Marty had no response to that. He felt stupid. He'd only been trying to get a sense of what sort of gay guy his friend was dating.

Well, guess he had his answer now. The boar wrapped his arms around himself, stuffing the hoof-tipped digits of his handpaws into his jacket. Suddenly, he didn't want to be here very much.

Should he apologize? He didn't know if he should apologize. He wanted to apologize. Jonathon probably deserved an apology. And Brad... had never reacted like that before.

Not that Brad was the only gay guy Marty had dealt with, over the years. He was just... a little different, from the others. His reactions were a bit more important. Marty hadn't had a gay best friend, until college.

The rest of the drive back was silent, at first awkward, and then just grim. Jonathon's tail unbristled in stages, becoming tufty, and then extra-fluffy, and then normal but a bit rumpled. Wedged awkwardly under the seat, as far away from the boar's knees as it could get. Marty caught Brad's eyes in the rear-view mirror from time to time, and always dropped his gaze quickly.

Jonathon probably didn't like him too much. The boar wondered how long it would be before the two of them began fighting over Brad. The best friend and the significant other. Talk about classic.

Talk about demoralizing. If the situation was a bit different, he would have been quick to become good friends with the raccoon. He didn't want to fight with Jonathon.

The gear selector chuh-chunked into park, and Brad shut off the engine. There came the whistling scrape of seatbelts, the squealing rattle of styrofoam containers. "So, what're you guys thinking about watching for the movie?" Brad inquired.

A beat followed.

"Uh, what are the options?" Jonathon asked, opening his door and climbing out; the others followed suit.

"Well... hmmm... we have a lot of random DVDs... There's a bunch of horror stuff, because Marty likes 'em." The wolf huffed. "I'm not really a big fan of horror films, though, I just like the really badly made ones, they're funny."

Jonathon meeped. "I don't mind them, as long as the main character doesn't act like a complete dumbass."

"That bugs me too," the boar put in, holding the door open. Jonathon gave him a fairly normal reaction glance, which was reassuring. "Most of mine are the more artistic ones, not really the kind where people just walk into chainsaws for the sake of walking into chainsaws. Brad won't want to watch one of those, though." He chuckled a bit. "He had nightmares after we watched Alien."

"Yeah, I... don't like being scared," Brad said, a little sheepishly. "That scene with the motion tracker..." He shivered.

"Aww..." Jonathon replied, throwing his boyfriend a warm look as they reached the top of the stairs and Brad fumbled for his keys. "Well... If you got too scared, I could hold you... but I suppose a horror movie isn't the most romantic thing to watch anyway..." The door opened, and the gay couple entered. Marty almost followed, when he noticed someone coming up the back stairs, across the way.

He paused, peering... and then a flash of recognition. "Oh, hey, Mr. Harwood!"

The hawk glanced up, staring at him for a second, and then his beak twisted into a strained smile. He gave the boar a nod, and quickly made his way to his apartment door; the smile fell from his face like a lead weight as soon as he looked away. A moment later, Marty was staring at the peephole as the door clicked shut.

Well. That was the least developed conversation he'd ever had with the neighbor-birdy.

Bemused, the boar stared at his neighbor's apartment a moment longer, before turning back to his own place of residence. Don't be nosy, now, baconface...

Within, he found the resident homosexuals debating DVDs. "...Or there's always netflix..." Brad was saying, with a shrug. "And we've got a bunch of other stuff, too, thanks to a certain naughty someone's illicit downloading habits."

"I'll dig out the list, if you like," the boar replied with a chuckle, shutting the apartment door. He needed a coke.

Jonathon peered at the shelf, scratching his little furry chin. He had a short, scruffy beard-y thing going on, it was pretty cute on someone like him, who didn't radiate testosterone like Brad did. "Hmmm... I never saw this one..."

Brad blinked. "You didn't see District 9?! What the heck are we doing, come on, let's watch that, it's awesome - "

Jonathon giggled a little as his boyfriend snatched the case and energetically strode over to the television. "I heard it was good, I wanted to see it when it came out..."

The boar shut the fridge and cracked his soda can.

"It's so aaaawesuuuummmmmm," Brad intoned. "It's based on apartheid South Africa, of course, and the way they handle the xenophobic undertones is just so incredible once you start to think about that... I'm surprised you didn't see it," he remarked, tilting his head. "It's what Peter Jackson did after that Halo movie didn't take off back in 06."

"Aaaah, that made me so saaaaad!" the raccoon whined immediately, eyes going big and gleamy. "I was so excited for that in eighth grade!"

Marty spluttered, spraying fizzy brown stuff over the kitchen counter - conveniently, he'd just taken a sip. "Jeez, you're young!"

Jonathon blushed at the boar's outburst, paws going behind his back and catching each other. "Well..."

"I graduated in 06," Marty exclaimed, eyes boggling. "I thought you were Brad's age, or near enough!" He turned his gaze to the wolf, grinning a bit. "Gee, Brad, you sly old dawg."

The wolf was looking a little uncomfortable. "It's only a four year difference," he huffed, trying to appear nonchalant, but the boar could see he was feeling nothing of the sort.

"Yeah, but you're turning 24 next month, aren't you?" the boar chuckled. "When's your birthday, Jonathon?"

The raccoon scratched his head awkwardly. "Uh... August?"

"So, it's a four-year difference... for about four months of the year." The boar cackled.

"Shut up," Brad grumbled. "I didn't know how old he was when I met him. He's in college, it's not like he's jailbait or something."

The wolf busied himself with turning the Xbox on, stuffing the DVD into it, that nature of stuff. Perhaps he was embarrassed, but he didn't show any particular desire to look up at the other two males after that comment.

And so, Marty was the only one who saw the raccoon's head turn, his mouth opening wordlessly. Jonathon was looking at his boyfriend... but the blast of raw hurt in his eyes hit the boar squarely in the chest.

Oh, geez... Marty made a grimace-y face. He was sure Brad hadn't meant it in a bad way... but the way he'd said it had come off a bit... callous. As though he was ashamed of his boyfriend... perhaps even annoyed.

Probably my fault... the boar thought. He's not annoyed with Jonathon, he's annoyed with ME.

Again, he wanted to apologize... but what was he supposed to say? The moment was awkward enough without him sticking his head in again, and Brad was blissfully oblivious of the raccoon's eyes on him.

This had been such an awful idea. Marty was screwing up his best friend's date, and he wasn't even trying. He was trying not to screw it up. He'd only agreed to do this whole thing because Brad had asked - no, more like begged - him to play the third wheel for a bit. It was supposed to help Jonathon relax.

Marty didn't know if this qualified as helping. He'd certainly done a great job of making Jonathon upset. And that would have been a shame even if he hadn't been Brad's boyfriend. The raccoon was a nice guy, he hadn't done anything to deserve torment.

Uncomfortable, Marty cast a glance up to the procyonid again. Jonathon was looking a little sad, but he'd taken to just staring shyly at his footpaws. Brad grabbed the Xbox controller and fiddled with the TV.

"I, uh... I have to go to the bathroom before we start it," Jonathon uttered.

Brad glanced at him. "Oh, bathroom's right through there, between our rooms." He hesitated, and then grinned. "Better go through my room, I don't know if Marty's cleaned his up..."

"Well, if you consider only half a load of laundry on the floor 'cleaned up' as opposed to three loads..." The boar shrugged.

Brad chuckled. "Mine's the one on the right."

"Got it," Jonathon replied, and he did smile a bit, which made Marty feel a bit better. The raccoon paced around the couch and headed back into the wolf's bedroom, and Marty paced over to the living room area and sat down on the futon.

Brad started the DVD player function and immediately paused it, before coming over to sit beside his roommate. "So," he asked, facing his roommate in his seat, his voice low and conspiratorial. "Do you like him?"

Marty blinked. Slurped his coke. "Uh... sure?" It was incredible, how anxious Brad looked.

"Come on, tell me what you think of him," the wolf huffed, frustrated. "You've gotten to know him a bit better now, he's less of a stranger, he's more - "

"Brad," the boar interrupted, with a little chuckle. "I think he's great. He's a nice guy."

"Yeah, you can say that," the wolf grumbled, "but you still won't say you like him or not. He's just... he's really incredible, okay? I want to be happy with him. Don't you want me to be happy with him?"

Marty stared at his roommate for a moment. Now he was the one struck speechless. He swallowed, and made an effort. "Brad... of course I do..."

"Then what the hell is your problem!" the wolf exploded; he glanced toward the doorway and lowered his voice. "You're acting like he's... dangerous!"

Coke. He needed coke. The boar gulped carbonation, licked his dry mouth.

He was going to need more than coke, here in a second. More like Jack and coke. They were a bit short on the Jack, but 151 would do in a pinch.

"Brad... look." Siiiiigh. "Your luck with men has been... spectacularly bad."

"I thought statistics majors didn't believe in luck," the wolf muttered, more grumpy than playful.

"For fuck's sake, Brad! Your last boyfriend cheated on you with half the city, not to mention the... other stuff he did to you. Before that, you slept with half the city, and it got you precisely nowhere and turned you into a lonely, self-hating pile of fur. And before that, you fell for a guy who cared more about his spicy sex life than you, and now he has AIDS."

"He's positive," the wolf mumbled. "He doesn't have AIDS."

"You said he was almost there yourself. What's the cutoff for the blood cells?"

"Two hundred."

"And he was?"

The wolf looked up defiantly. "Three hundred. And he hasn't had any comorbidity. So it's not AIDS. And he's sorrier than you can imagine, and I forgave him."

"Whatever. You get the point." The boar glared. "Luck or no, you've had a pretty shitty time of it. And before that, there was Todd - "

Brad interrupted him. "Don't. Talk about Todd."

Abruptly, Marty recalled an intriguing fact - in many areas where feral boars were native, their primary predator was wolves. His fur prickled. "Fine, fine, sorry." Never mind that the wolf's growling outburst was only proving his point. "Brad, I just... I don't want to see some guy hurt you again. I don't want to watch that happen, I don't want to try to pick you up. Again and again, and each time it gets tougher, to watch, and to... get you back." Another sigh escaped him. "And this one... This one is different. He's... he's special. He is dangerous. If he leaves... it's going to destroy you. I can see it already." The boar huffed. "You're my best friend. I'm just worried about you." He looked up, catching Brad's eyes. After a moment, the wolf looked away.

"He's not 'some guy'..." Brad said weakly. "I... really love him, Marty."

A few rooms over, they heard the toilet flush and the sink come on.

"Brad, you're a romantic, optimistic idealist," the boar said bluntly. "You keep getting hurt because you want to be in love. More than you want to not be hurt." Marty breathed out; he wouldn't have much more time to say this... and Brad needed to hear it. "Brad... I like Jonathon. I really do. I'm happy to see you dating a nice, reasonable guy for once. It's obviously good for you, and I hope it works out. Just..." The sink shut off. "...be careful. Please be careful." He hesitated, and then added, "Don't love him so much that you... forget how to love yourself."

The bathroom door opened.

Brad's gaze was centered on his feet, while Marty's was anxiously focused on him. After a moment, the wolf smiled a little... and it didn't seem to be all that bitter. He gave the boar a silent pat on the shoulder, quick, gentle... and that made Marty smile a bit as well.

The raccoon plowed into the cloud of emotions, unknowingly. Marty looked up at him, but Jonathon's face was impassive. The boar couldn't tell if he'd heard anything that had been said... or if he perceived anything from the way his companions were sitting... or even if he was still upset about Brad's earlier choleric words.

So fucking hard to read. The guy's body language was morse code, his tone was the chittering of his feral ancestors. He threw Marty off like a bronco.

Still... he did seem nice.

Maybe the boar would just have to trust him. For Brad's sake.

The raccoon sat down on the couch. "So is it ready?" he asked.

Brad looked up, nodding, and then making a face. "Hey, what are you doing over there! Come over here, you, this is a date."

Smiling, the raccoon obliged, getting up and padding around the coffee table to sit on Brad's other side. The wolf wrapped one arm around his boyfriend and nuzzled him firmly, making Jonathon laugh a bit.

Marty hopped up himself, breathing out his tension in a rush, and headed into the kitchen.

"You guys want to get smashed?" he inquired.

There was a pause as the other two considered his question. "I think we're good, Marty," the wolf replied, after a moment.

"Figured. Don't mind if I do, do you? I am craving a strong-ass rum and coke. Want anything while I'm up?"

So began the proper event of the evening, the focus of the function, the purpose of the production. And once they got into it, Marty found the atmosphere calming and growing more comfortable and friendly... or maybe that was the alcohol. Either way, his two companions seemed to be enjoying their gay date... the wolf with his arm around the raccoon and the raccoon with his head on the wolf's shoulder. And Marty couldn't honestly say he wasn't enjoying spending time with Brad and his boyfriend, in the end of it. More than what they were to each other... he knew that Brad was his friend. And he hoped that Jonathon was, as well.

Still, next time... he'd have to be a bit more careful not to screw things up.

The boar had opted to sit on the couch and leave the futon to the other two, and toward the end of the movie he was a bit glad of that. The other males had gotten pretty... cuddly. It was still PG over there, but Marty couldn't help feeling a little embarrassed, when he glanced over at the two. That dreamy expression on Jonathon's face, the way his eyes were glazed a bit as he watched the screen... The way Brad was nuzzling the side of his boyfriend's neck, slowly, distractedly...

Maybe the boar hadn't screwed things up as badly as he'd thought he had.

And... maybe he was worrying about it, okay. He wanted Brad to be happy.

And Jonathon.

He really did.

In time, the credits began their roll, and the boar yawned, stretching. His mind was a pleasant buzz of intoxication that would hopefully clear up before he had to head to work... but he still had five hours or so until then, plenty of time to straighten out. Working these weird shifts played hell with your leisure time routines; Marty was no stranger to doing a bit of clubbing before heading to work. Just had to be careful to give himself enough time to sober up... not that anyone really cared if he was a bit buzzed at work at four in the morning as long as he could do his job. But if it was too bad, he'd have to call a cab to make the hour-long commute in, just to be safe, and that was plain embarrassing.

"Aaaaah, that's such a good one," the boar murmured, rising. "I love the species characterization in it. Doesn't make us mammals look too good, does it?"

"Mmh," Brad replied.

The boar stuck his drink glass in the sink, and then wandered back into the living room. The other two hadn't moved from their former positions, just sitting on the couch and staring at the Xbox dashboard with these blissful smiles. It made Marty grin a bit. They were so gay.

Not that there's anything wrong with that! his inner Seinfeld-quote-subroutine spouted.

"Alright, I've got some stuff to do before I head to work... so I'm going to leave you two alone, yeah?"

The wolf hrmphed, and then cast him a look. "Oh, I see how it is. Too cool to hang out with us any more, are you?"

Marty chuckled. "Well, yes, but I also think you might appreciate having a bit of time without a chaperone on your date. You know where I am if you need an adult!"

Brad snorted and wrapped his other arm around the raccoon, who looked up at him. "Don't listen to him, we're big boys, right?"

The raccoon giggled a bit. "Well, I think I'm the shortest..."

"Heheh, that's all right; I like that about you." Brad waved his roommate off. "We're probably going to go to sleep soon anyway, don't worry about us."

"Kay!" The boar, yawning again, padded into his room and kicked the door mostly shut.

It was about damn time to get out of these fancy clothes. The boar wasn't used to wearing anything nicer than a t-shirt and sweatpants; even jeans were a bit much for him, and he really preferred shorts if at all possible. Shirt optional. Heck, the shorts were pretty optional, too. Really, all this extra clothing stuff was so overrated and unnecessary; he didn't see the point of it. The boar preferred sitting around in his underwear, and wouldn't have worn much else if society was a bit less prudish. Exposing one's genitals was at least an understandable thing to avoid with people you weren't intending to use them on... but what the heck was the point of wearing a shirt?

Still, Jonathon was over, so he should probably attire himself presentably. Basketball shorts and a t-shirt, there. The boar gladly stripped off his shoes and slacks, discarded his two layers of shirt, and peeled off his socks. The best part about wearing fancy clothing was the feeling of taking it off.

Donning his more comfortable garments, Marty made his way over to his desk, stumbling a bit. He wasn't that drunk, but walking was complicated. His laptop sat humming, screen off.

Four new facebook notifications!

Maybe later. The boar clicked the close button and perused his desktop, before popping open a game. He glanced around his room while it loaded.

The place really was a bit of a mess... he probably ought to pick it up a bit again. So many soda cans... Brad was a bit neater, but they'd mostly worked out a system of where junk could accumulate and where it could not. The wolf didn't care what his roommate's bedroom looked like.

Yaaaaaaawn. Gee, this wasn't good, he was going to have to be conscious for work, not yawning his head off. The boar supposed he hadn't had any coffee yet, today. That was probably what was doing it. Maybe he should make some.

The main screen of the game popped up, and the boar huffed. Yeah, what the hell. Drunken gaming was fun, but sleepy gaming was not. He probably deserved some coffee after all that effort he put into his third-wheely-ness.

Really sold the role, baconator. I'd like to thank the Academy.

Meh. Marty lazed around in his chair a moment longer, and then hauled himself up once more and went back across the room to the door, still ajar. Uncoordinatedly, he gripped it and pulled it open, stepping out into the square alcove that allowed access to both bedrooms, and drew it closed behind him.

There was a fairly good line of sight from his room over to the futon. The TV was still on.

And so, from the dark alcove, Marty suddenly found himself watching two men kiss.

The dim blue light was reflecting off shining silvery fur, going dark gray-black in rings, shimmering as the tail swished back and forth in the air. Small triangular ears were tweaked forward, in that real, earnest way that they could never quite get right in pornography, when they even bothered. Meanwhile, paws pressed against chests and whiskers glinted in the glow. Noses nudged. Muzzles meshed.

Jonathon was leaning over Brad. The wolf was angled back, still holding his torso up, still sort of sitting, though he was drawing closer and closer to lying down. His eyes were closed; his paws were drawn up close to his chest, stroking the raccoon's pectoral region. Jonathon was pressing toward him, forward, almost aggressive, yet his embrace was slow and tender. One would hardly even call it passionate, it held... yearning, but no haste. Patience.

The soft sounds of their tongues and teeth were audible from across the room.

The boar's cheeks were burning.

He'd seen Brad kiss a few guys in his time, a few quick smooches, including the one earlier that night... but nothing... nothing like this. He'd never seen anything like this in his life.

He supposed on some level, the idea that gays made out just like everyone else did wasn't a strange concept. And yet, to set eyes on it, to gain the proof that it was as emotional and consuming as the few times he had enjoyed it with females... Well, it was a bit like going to a museum. Awestruck by the exhibit, Marty couldn't quite settle between looking away out of discomfort, and staring in fascination.

He hadn't felt lonely throughout the rest of the night... but now, he was starting to feel it. Now that it was real to him... that these two males really did care about each other.

Like that.

"Mmnnn... Do you..."

Brad was whispering; it was cut off by another brief kiss.

"...Do you want me to take you home?" the wolf managed.

Their actions halted; Jonathon was panting. "Hah... Huh?"

The wolf babbled, disarmingly. "Well, I mean, you really don't have to stay if you don't want to... I mean, I suggested it, but I'm not going to make you if - "

Jonathon's mouth silenced him. It was almost amusing, the way Brad froze under its influence, as though hit with a tranquilizer dart.

"I think I'd like to stay..." the raccoon breathed, eyes coming open once more as he drew away. He was smiling.

"But..." Brad huffed; his voice was anxious. "But, I don't... I don't want to go too fast, are you sure that... that you're okay with..." He ducked his nose abruptly. "I mean, I don't mean we have to do anything if you do stay, I just, if it's okay, if we're doing this and... And will it be okay if..."

This time what ended the wolf's disintegrating speech was the raccoon's paw, slowly caressing back over one ear, pressing it down, letting it flick up.

"I think I'd like to stay," Jonathon repeated. His words were slow; the look in his eyes was... "Let's not worry about anything else yet. Let's just... see what happens, okay?" A brief kiss. "I trust you. I know you won't go too fast for me. So... Let me decide what I'm okay with. I can't say for sure..." He gulped, visibly. "...but I'd like to find out sometime. And this..."

A long, complicated pause. They were very close to kissing again.

"...this might be the right time."

It was a good thing Marty was standing in the dark alcove. He wouldn't've wanted to interrupt this.

He also wasn't particularly keen on the other two seeing him blushing quite this hard.

I mean g_eez_. What was this, a gay romance novel? How did he stumble into this?!

With a couple awkward, measuring glances, Marty judged the ensuing silence between the two men. They weren't kissing any more, at least. They were just... looking at each other.

Drawing up his courage, Marty pushed the door to his bedroom back open, and acted like he'd just walked out of it. He wandered out into the room, not having to feign his drunken distraction.

No creepy accidental voyeurism here at all! Just carry on with what y'all were doin'! Might as well take up a nonchalant whistle while he was at it.

By the time he made it around the counter to the coffee maker, where he could see the two again (to be fair, he'd been pointedly staring away most of the journey there), Brad and Jonathon had drawn a bit further apart, but it was still clear that they'd been getting pretty intimate a few moments before. Didn't need to spy on anything to figure that sort of pose out.

Marty gulped, and began making his coffee. Hey, it was his apartment, too!

Brad seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because a moment later, he rumbled, "Hey... how about we... continue this conversation somewhere else?"

Jonathon's tail was flicking playfully, he was leaning on Brad's stomach. "Mmm? Like where..." he murmured.

The wolf shifted, and they stood; Brad grabbed the raccoon's paw. "C'mon."

Marty watched with trepidation as the two passed him without so much as a glance, seeming to be in a daze.

The door of Brad's bedroom shut. The boar breathed a huge sigh of relief, and decided that tonight was probably going to be a good night to listen to some music.

With earbuds.

---

In contrast to the previous episode, I think that if Marty had apologized for any of the things he'd 'screwed up', he would have done pretty serious damage to his roommate's relationship. However, I also think he was somewhat exaggerating the situation out of worry. Getting into his head was great; a fresh perspective on these two was definitely what this episode needed. I only thought of that facet last week, though a great deal of this episode has been planned for much longer than that.

See you guys next week!