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Kevin watched Charlie sleep. In the near darkness, the sleeping face looked more like Herbert than ever, but Kevin's heart didn't stir. Apparently sex had been just the medicine he needed. It had been good, certainly, he was satisfied physically. Charlie had proven himself an earnest and considerate lover. He had thrown himself into his role, but despite his best efforts, it had proved unsatisfying on a deeper level.

He idly ran his fingers through the fur on his belly, stiffening by the semen drying in it. It was his, evidence of Charlie's prowess, proof that Kevin had enjoyed himself. Charlie's load was warm and wet inside him. He felt well and properly fucked, but not the way he had felt after Herbert. The overwhelming flush of happiness, safety, and love were nowhere to be found.

He rolled out of bed, careful to keep cum off the sheets, and headed for the bathroom for a hot shower. He washed himself thoroughly. As he rinsed the soap from his fur, Charlie wandered into the bathroom, naked. A half erection standing up under his belly.Kevin felt his body respond slightly to the sight of him, but it felt different than it had before. There seemed no more recognition from his soul, just an autonomic response to erotic stimuli. Charlie stood in front of the toilet and visibly forced his body to relax until his urine stream began.

Had it been pure romanticism? The idea now that Charlie could ever act as a replacement was laughable, as it had been from the first, before his defenses had been beaten down by their closeness. Seeing him now, in the light from the vanity, naked and pissing, the differences, more than the similarities between him and Kevin's deceased love were apparent. Their body shapes, so similar at first glance proved very different at a closer examination, their faces even which Kevin had before believed to be uncannily similar now looked markedly different.

This revelatory thinking made it impossible to be sorry for what they had done. It had done much good for his state of mind. The fog seemed to be lifting. Somehow, it seemed more real at yet, less painful that Herbert was really and truly gone now that his doppelganger was revealed to be nothing of the kind.

"Well?" Charlie asked as the flicked away the last drop of urine, pulling Kevin from his introversion.

"I'd say the experiment was a complete success," Kevin said, "I seem to be over you."

Charlie pulled the clear door open and stepped into the shower. "Good. Does this mean you'll stop acting like I'm contagious?"

"I certainly hope so."

"Does it also mean that you have no interest in me sucking you off?"

Kevin raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know about you, but I've been pretty pent up these last few weeks."

"I don't know," Kevin said. "that that's a good idea."

"I don't think it's an idea with a positive or negative value. It's a simple question of release."

"Sex isn't so uncomplicated."

"Sex is as complicated as you want it to be." That's what Wes had said. Kevin remembered thinking like that, he'd been loose enough in his younger years. It had been true enough for himself, he hadn't found himself falling in love with any of his partners, but looking back, he was certain the he left at least one broken heart behind him somewhere. He had seen the eyes of boys change to the semi-glaze of infatuation after sex. Their embarrassment, and perhaps even pain, when they were turned down for a second tumble had been clear on their faces.

"I'd say that was an overly idealistic assumption that puts too much pressure on our self-possession or emotional control."

"Are you a philosophy professor or a literature professor?" Charlie said.

"Philosophy is an important aspect of literature, but I was thinking more in terms of physiology. You do realize that love drugs get released, regardless of who you're having sex with, provided you orgasm."

"Yeah, but we've already done it once. I'd say we've passed the point of worrying about the effects on our relationship. What emotional attachment we have is clearly not influenced by sex and attraction. So, now that we've got the philosophy of fucking out of the way, did you, in fact, want to feel my cock split you like a logagain?"

Kevin had to laugh. Everything from Charlie's tone of voice to facial expression projected a nonchalance that straddled the line of comedy.

"What happened to you sucking my cock?"

"That's foreplay, my dear professor. Do you think we should start it, or would you rather dry off and get some sleep."

"I just finished washing," Kevin said.

"That sounds like a yes to me," Charlie said, and reached out to grasp Kevin's near erection. He hardened in the young boar's hand. "Feels like a yes too."

Kevin shrugged. The truth of the matter was that the sex with Charlie had been good and uncomplicated by preconceptions or self doubt. After the experiences of the last few weeks, the appeal was difficult to resist. It was probably the first time he had not felt completely alone since he had lost Herbert. It wasn't the profound connection of true love, but at least it was the connection of a close friendship, something his quick and sweaty encounters with Wes had given no sign of.

Charlie apparently decided he had all the consent he needed and bent down until he could look Kevin's cock in the eye. Kevin felt his tongue flick across the head just before it was engulfed in his warm, wet mouth. He groaned and leaned against the wall as Charlie worked on him. He was completely hard now. Charlie was good.

Kevin put his hands on Charlie's head, taking two gentle handfuls of hair, more as something to do with his hands as anything. His hips moved on their own, rocking gently back and forth to help Charlie's bobbing, his belly bumping into his head. He murmured little words of encouragement as he closed his eyes and rode the sensations. All too soon, Charlie pulled his mouth away, twisting as he did so that it popped out of his cheek with a sound like a cork being released. He snickered.

"Always wanted to do that," he said. "Bend over, I'm going to get you ready."

Kevin did as he was told. Two hands pulled his cheeks apart, revealing his pucker, not as tight as it had been earlier in the evening, but not distended by any means, he had felt around when he'd washed it earlier. He had expected a finger and at the soft, yielding press of a tongue, he gasped.

"You don't need to do that," he forced through pants.

In response, Charlie pressed harder, forcing his tongue into Kevin's crinkle and wriggling it around like a panicked worm. His hand wrapped around Kevin's erection and tugged. Kevin concentrated on keeping his balance as the pleasure threatened to collapse him. Charlie switched to long licks from the base of his scrotum to the top of his anus, still stroking Kevin's throbbing member. Kevin pressed back, eager for more stimulation. Charlie obliged by pressing his tongue once more to the root.

Suddenly, both hand and mouth were gone. Kevin looked back at a grinning Charlie who spat on his hand and, making a great show of it, spread his saliva over his shaft.

"Ready for this?" Charlie asked playfully. Kevin responded by arching his spine and pushing back, spreading his cheeks enough to reveal his hole. "Looks like a yes." Wasting no more time, Charlie sank his entire length into Kevin.

Kevin moaned at being filled again. Charlie wasn't over large, but he was definitely big enough to make his presence known. He was still slick from their earlier intercourse and Charlie immediately began thrusting. At first it was slow and gentle, to make sure Kevin was comfortable, but he quickly escalated his movements until he was slamming his hips into Kevin's ass. Kevin moaned happily as he felt Charlie's scrotum slap against him with each thrust. He eagerly pressed back, matching Charlie's rhythm.

"You really like having a hard cock in your ass, don't you?" Charlie said into Kevin's ear, a sexy whisper that made Kevin shiver.

"Is it that obvious?" Kevin replied. Charlie suddenly stopped his thrusts and Kevin's faltered in pushing back, but only for a moment. He threw himself back to reestablish the lost rhythm.

"Yes," Charlie said and began his hard, deep thrusts again. Kevin bit his lip and shifted his weight so he could free one hand from holding himself up. He slid it into the small pocket formed by his belly that hid his hard cock. Each thrust had bumped the head against it, providing him with some stimulation, but not as much as he craved. He remedied the situation by swallowing his penis with his hand and allowing Charlie's thrusts to rock it back and forth. He realized he just how close he was.

"Fuck, Charlie, I'm going to cum in a minute."

Charlie responded by speeding up his thrusts, not quite as hard, not quite as deep, but fast enough to make up for both. Kevin melted into a litany of curses as the pleasure grew to the bursting point.

"Oh God," Kevin said as his cum erupted from his cock, covering his hand and the underside of his belly with slick warmth.

"Fuck yeah," Charlie said as Kevin's spasming ass gripped his cock. His thrusts slowed again, but they were hard and deep, maximizing the sensation. "Here. It. Comes," he gritted out just as his first jet entered Kevin. He timed his subsequent thrusts with each ejaculation until finally it was too much and he collapsed against his friend's back. Kevin felt his cock fall out and one last shot spurt across his hanging ball sack.

Kevin released his penis to put his hand back against the wall, needed to support the two of them in their awkward position. He noted the globs of congealing semen on his knuckles, but resisted the urge to bring them to his mouth. At the moment he was more concerned about keeping his footing.

Charlie continued puffing away against his back, trying to catch his breath and only slowly succeeding. Finally, he took his weight away, not to stand on his own, but to lean against the wall, Kevin heard the smack of his soft flesh against the hard tiles.

"That was fun," Charlie said.

Kevin straightened out and stepped forward out of the water. He turned around and mimicked Charlie's pose, though with his knuckles in his mouth. One by one he sucked them clean. Charlie watched with interest, shown both in his eyes and his spent penis, which twitched in a hopeless attempt to get hard again. Kevin smiled and reached between his legs to his sack. He scooped up the shot Charlie had shot there and transferred that to his mouth as well.

"Mmm," he said, "you taste real nice."

"You make me wish I was gay," Charlie said.

Kevin scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. You don't want to fall in love with an old fur rug like me."

"What if I did?"

"Then you'd be a bigger idiot than I me."

Kevin started washing again, watching Charlie watch him with a contemplative look on his face.

"What?" Kevin asked, finally.

"You regret falling in love with Herbert?" Charlie asked.

Kevin shook his head. "What I regret is that falling in love with Herbert necessitated me having to live half of my life without him. If I'd had any sense and gone with someone my own age, I probably wouldn't be in this position."

Charlie frowned. "I'm not sure you're right about that. I mean, half of all marriages end in divorce, right? Who's to say that you wouldn't be just as alone if you'd fallen for someone your own age? They'd be just as gone. Seems to me, you did the only thing you could do. You grabbed what you had and held on to it with both hands as long as you could hold it."

Kevin shrugged. "You're probably right about that. Still, when I was young... never mind. If I could go back, I wouldn't change anything. Maybe I would be a happier man now if I hadn't taken Herbert, but I don't think that Herbert would have been. And maybe that was really the point. I didn't love him to make myself happy, though I certainly was happy, I did it to make him happy, to change his life in a positive way."

"You're going to make me cry," Charlie said, and took over the shower.

Kevin stepped out of the shower stall and into the dryer.

"Did you really read Herbert's book?" Kevin asked as he brushed his fur.

"Man Loved By Despair? Sure. I thought it was really good."

"I thought it was the most achingly beautiful thing I'd ever read. I still think that," Kevin said quietly.

Then he walked out of the bathroom and into his bed. He pulled up the blankets and closed his eyes. A few minutes later, he heard the shower turn off. Charlie turned off the light. He stood in the doorway for a while, Kevin knew because there were no footsteps. After a moment, he heard Charlie approach him.

He felt a light brush of lips followed by a voice that didn't sound entirely like Charlie's, more like a Charlie aged thirty years. It was achingly familiar, though not in a way that made any sense. "You'll be alright. Goodnight, Kevin."

The next thing he knew, it was morning and he would never be certain he hadn't dreamed that voice.

* * *

Friday had come and as promised, Kevin and Charlie paid the cover charge at Gobsmack, dropping Anthony's name at the same time to make sure he got credit for their attendance. They found a booth near the stage and claimed it for their own. Kevin caught sight of Anthony by the bar, talking animatedly to a buck with sawed off antlers. He had an empty tumbler in his hand. With the way he was motioning with it, Kevin couldn't be sure if he'd emptied it into his mouth or on to the floor.

In the midst of one of his gesticulations, he caught sight of Kevin and Charlie and threw up a hand in greeting. A grin split his face and without a word to the buck, he strode forward, his gait steady despite his apparent inebriation.

"Kevin, Charlie, you came! Welcome to the show." He extended the hand with the glass for a handshake, realizing belatedly that it was already full. He gave it a quizzical look, then set it down on another table so that he could properly shake Kevin's hand. The bear returned the shake firmly, finding himself honestly glad to see the badger again. Charlie got his turn and then Anthony threw himself into a chair set opposite the booth. Kevin wondered how many chairs he'd destroyed by his complete apathy towards the possible effects of his weight. If it groaned, the bar was too loud for it to be heard.

"So, he a good fuck?" he asked Charlie with a straight face. Kevin was glad he didn't have a drink yet, he might have spewed it across his table mates. He knew he shouldn't be surprised by the badger's forwardness.

Charlie had the decency to blush. "I don't kiss and tell," he said after a struggle played out across his face.

"That's a yes if I ever saw one," Anthony said, "I knew it. One look at this sexy fucker and I knew he'd be a king in the sack. I hope I get a chance to ride."

"How many have you had?" Kevin asked.

"I never counted. Didn't seem gentlemanly to keep a tally."

"I meant drinks. How drunk are you?"

"Worried I'm going to try to rape you again? Or hoping? Ha! I'm kidding, I'm not drunk at all, just a little buzzed, loosened up. I only turn complete whore after my tenth or so. I can't drink too much now that I've got to man a guitar. It's a lot harder to sing and play than it is to bash the fuck out of a kit." Anthony glanced over to the empty glass, still perched on the adjacent table.

"Want a refill?" Charlie asked, "I was going to grab a beer, what're you having?"

"No, I think I'm at my limit for now. Just before I go on, I think I'll have another shot of something."

"Stage fright?" Kevin asked as Charlie left for the bar.

"Stage fright? Me? My dear Kevin, all the world's a stage."

"So, yes?"

"Not as long as I get my armor shot before they hit the lights."

"When are you going on?" Kevin asked.

"Third, after a Jr. High punk band and a gore metal band."

"Oh, God. I'm going to have to wait outside."

"Coward."

Kevin laughed. "I didn't bring ear plugs."

Anthony sputtered, "What do you mean? Ear plugs? Are you old or something?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Well, you don't look it."

"Thanks. You carry your years well too."

Anthony play acted at coquettish embarrassment, "Oh, go on you flatterer," then in his normal voice, "no, really, go on. Nobody tells me I'm pretty any more."

"They used to?"

"Oh!" Anthony squeaked, "Oh! The nerve!"

Charlie reappeared with a frothy mug.

"What're you guys talking about?"

"Kevin called me ugly!" Anthony said in his most offended voice.

"Guy's got eyes," Charlie said and sipped his brew.

"I never said you were ugly," Kevin said, "I just doubt that you could ever be described as pretty. Unless you've changed radically over the years."

"Still sounds like ugly," Charlie said before diving back into his beer.

"You knock that off," Kevin said to Charlie, and then to Anthony, "And you, grow up."

"Grow up? I've been grown up since you walked into the bar." Then he perpetrated the most over the top wink ever seen by mortal men.

Kevin rolled his eyes and noticed the accurately described Jr High punk band setting up. None of them could be older than fifteen and all of them dressed like they hated their parents. By the look of their instruments, though, their parents loved them very much.

"That looks like my cue," Kevin said and started to rise.

"Oh, come on, Kevin. I grant you, it won't really be an enjoyable experience, but put yourself in their place. How would you like it if people got up and left just before you were about to perform? Besides, they could surprise you."

Kevin sighed and settled back into his seat. "If I go insane and puncture my eardrums in desperation it'll be on your head."

"That's the spirit, professor!"

Kevin was not disappointed. While their parents might have loved them enough to buy them pretty instruments, they obviously didn't love them enough to get them lessons. They had verve and energy and if Kevin had a different starting point he might have been able to admit there was value in their approach. As it was, he endured forty five minutes of misery mitigated only by the few seconds they allowed between songs. After the last scream, the singer politely thanked the audience and helped his drummer take down his set.

"I hate you," Kevin said. He said it at what he hoped was a normal volume, but the ringing in his ears made it impossible for him to be sure.

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm broadening your horizons."

"If you were trying to teach me veterinary medicine, would you take me to a slaughterhouse?"

"I might," Anthony said, "it would be like speed dissection."

"I have to get out of here. There's no way I'm listening to some extreme metal band, I won't have any hearing left for your set."

"But that's my plan. If you're deaf, you won't have any choice but to tell me wonderful lies about my performance."

"You're a true artist," Kevin said, and stood.

"I need more beer," Charlie said, "Want anything, Ant?"

"I think I'm going to keep the professor company. To tell you the truth, Blood Sty doesn't sound like my kind of band."

"Who's the coward now?" Charlie said, before he made his way through the crowd to the bar.

"He's changed," Kevin said once they reached the open air. The smokers had staked out their area a few yards from the door and Kevin automatically moved as far away from them as he could while still belonging to the bar. Anthony looked wistfully at them for a moment before turning his attention wholly to Kevin.

"Charlie? Yeah, even from the other night, I can tell. I guess that old girlfriend of his really did a number on him, eh?"

"She did a number on any man who came into contact with her, and he was with her for a long time, I understand. Apparently jailing her was very freeing. Thank you for that, by the way."

"You thanked me already, and you came to my show, don't worry about it."

"I don't feel like I've thanked you for what you did for me."

Anthony poo-pooed that with a wave of his hand. "No thanks necessary, really. You're embarrassing me."

"I forgot you're capable of embarrassment."

Anthony shrugged. "Don't tell anyone, it would ruin my reputation."

"I should introduce you to my friend Sheila Tangle, or on second thought, maybe not. You'd probably collapse space-time, that much naughty fun love in one place."

The metal band started playing. Even through the walls of the venue, Kevin could hear how loud and ugly it was.

"I bet we're missing quite the experience," Anthony said.

"I have no doubt. Like missing your own autopsy."

Anthony laughed.

They chatted about nothing in particular as the metal band tortured their instruments and their audience. Anthony kept eyeing the smokers as they puffed away.

"Are you going to bum a cigarette, or are you just going to smoke them with your eyes?" Kevin said.

"My voice is rough enough as it is. And it's bad for you, you know."

Soon enough, the band finished their set.

"Time to go back in," Kevin said.

"My set's pretty extreme, you might want to stay out here," Anthony said with mock seriousness.

"I'll put on a brave face for your sake."

"You're a generous soul."

Charlie was still at their table, a fresh foamy pint sat in front of him with a shot glass next to it.

"I got you your armor," Charlie said. Anthony threw it back and grimaced.

"Ugh, you need some education, kid," Anthony said, "I don't even want to know what that was."

"How was the band from in here?" Kevin asked.

"Well, you wouldn't have liked it. It was kind of like attending your own autopsy, but in a good way."

The metal band were quick to get off the stage. Anthony went to get his guitar and paused to chat with the band for a few minutes, taking full advantage of the fact that his own set up was almost nonexistent. They parted with handshakes all around and Anthony mounted the stage. The sound check only took a minute and then Anthony squared himself up on his stool in front of the microphone.

"Good evening, two dozen people who have no idea who I am. My name is Anthony Barrow and I hope you'll forgive me for being a wimpy follow up to those skull crushers. This first song is called 'Lie of Life.'"

He started picking a simple pattern on the strings before abruptly switching to a chunky strum as he started singing.

Kevin couldn't help but be impressed. As the set went on, Anthony twisted his voice around, showing off half a dozen tones and a decent range. His guitar playing wasn't virtuosic, but it did show some talent, or at the very least, a great deal of hard work. He never played just to have accompaniment, but guitar and voice always worked together and around each other.

He occasionally spoke between songs, dropping a joke here and there, but for the most part, he just played. Finally he played his last song, but when he opened his mouth to sing, nothing came out. His guitar playing faltered for a beat, but he quickly recovered. He didn't try to sing again, but concentrated solely on his guitar playing, eyes downcast.

It was the most beautiful guitar playing Anthony had displayed all night. Kevin had heard virtuosos of all kinds, the greatest guitar players of all time, but there was something in this performance that struck a chord with him that had never been struck by music before. It wasn't the notes themselves, nor the tune, somehow. Anthony was infusing them with a feeling so pure that the perfectly normal notes were transformed into something transcendent. As the song went on, Anthony seemed to find his voice again, at least partially. He added something between a moan and a hum on top to the guitar, elevating it even further.

Charlie nudged him suddenly and mouthed, "are you alright?"

Kevin suddenly realized there were tears on his face. He quietly blew his nose on his handkerchief and wiped them away with a clean corner. The spell was broken, but it didn't matter, the song only had a few bars before it too ended. The crowd wasn't big enough for truly raucous applause, but they did what they could. Kevin didn't join in. He stood up and approached the stage as Anthony unplugged and stood.

"So, was it alright?" he asked as he turned to put his guitar back in its case. As he turned, the light caught the fur of his face, it glistened wetly and Kevin realized he wasn't the only one moved to tears by the performance.

"That last song was amazing."

"Thanks. I worked hard on it."

"I could tell. I hope I can hear the vocals someday."

"Someday, maybe." Anthony and Kevin rejoined Charlie at the table.

"You two want to go somewhere? I'm starving, couldn't eat before the performance," Anthony said while the next band set up.

"Not me, there's a cute little beaver that's been sitting all by herself all night in the corner. I'm going to try my luck," Charlie said. Kevin glanced in the direction he indicated. There indeed was a young beaver girl sitting by herself. Kevin judged her to be in her early twenties. Short and plump, she seemed pretty enough. Kevin wished him luck.

"I could do with a bite," Kevin said. "I'll see you at home then."

The bear and the badger left, but not before Anthony expressed support and shook hands with the final band of the night that they would be missing. Kevin overheard a little of what was being said. Apparently he was getting blamed for their leaving, but Kevin didn't mind being scapegoated. He didn't want to stay and would have suggested they leave, or at least taken his own leave if Anthony hadn't first.

"Wait a second," Anthony said as they neared the door. He hurried back to Charlie and handed him his keys and what looked like a few points of fatherly advice.

"I've been drinking, so I can't drive, but if we take your car, he won't have a way home," Anthony explained when he rejoined Kevin. "She might be impressed by a Camaro too."

"He's been drinking too, you know," Kevin said.

"Yeah, but if he's lucky, he won't have to drive."

Kevin drove them to an all night diner, but as they neared it, they could see the parking lot was full.

"You know what?" Anthony said, "Why don't we go back to my place. It's not quite as busy and sure to be a lot quieter. I swear, my intentions are strictly honorable."

Kevin shrugged and asked for directions. Anthony gave them and in a few minutes, they arrived.

Anthony lived in a four bedroom ranch style house. As they walked to the door, Kevin took note of the winter yard, carefully maintained so that when spring came it would come out no worse for the snow. Inside, Anthony led them through to the kitchen, lighting the house as he went.

The kitchen was as spotless as Kevin's. Anthony waved Kevin over to the bar that separated the kitchen from the eating area. Four stools were tucked under it, Kevin took one and carefully sat. It groaned, but nothing more. Anthony stuck his head in the refrigerator and started rooting around.

"In the mood for anything in particular?" Anthony asked.

"Not really," Kevin said as he looked around. Everything was neat and well maintained, unneeded additional evidence that the party animal side of him was not the primary one.

"It's just about grocery day, so it looks like eggs and toast, if that's alright."

"Sounds fine."

"How do you like your eggs?"

"However you like them would be fine."

"Alright, over easy then. What do you think of the place?"

They chatted about inconsequential things while Anthony cooked. Kevin volunteered himself for toasting duty and soon enough they had a humble meal of a dozen eggs and an equal amount of buttered toast. Anthony stood opposite Kevin's stool as they ate and talked.

Once the meal was over, they deposited their dishes in the sink and removed to the living room.

"Nice digs, eh?" Anthony asked as he swung a recliner around to face the couch instead of the television. He flopped down in it, his belly undulating in a long wave. Kevin more carefully lowered himself onto the couch.

"Very nice. An awful lot of space for a single man," Kevin said.

"Well, it wasn't always for a single man. One of the rooms is for my drums and such, then I've got a room and Alex has one. I use the last one for storage. There's a lot of memories in this house though, I couldn't give it up, even if I didn't love being able to stretch out so much."

"Is it lonely?" Kevin asked, thinking of his own situation before Charlie moved in.

"It would be if I locked myself in here all the time. Most of the time, though, I just go where the people are. Though I wouldn't mind someone else living here or anything if it came up." Anthony frowned and sat up in his chair.

They sat in silence then for a while. Anthony seemed to be thinking about something, so Kevin left him alone and surveyed the room. It seemed a perfectly normal, comfortable, tastefully decorated living room. There was something a little off about it and it took a minute for Kevin to grasp it. There were no photographs on the walls. Not one shot of Alex when he was young, no family portraits, nothing. He was about to ask about it, when Anthony spoke up.

"I wonder if you would help me out with something," he said.

"That depends on what it is," Kevin said.

"It's nothing much, I just wondered if you would want to listen to a song I wrote."

"I just listened to a dozen songs you wrote," Kevin said with a laugh, "but one more couldn't possibly hurt. Based on what I've heard, anyway."

Anthony retrieved his guitar from the entry way where he'd left it and settled back into his chair.

"It's the one I closed with, the one I couldn't sing. It does have words, and I think they're pretty good, but they're kind of personal and they're hard to get out in public, I guess. But I'd like for someone to hear it. You know, a song's pointless if nobody but me ever hears it."

"Sure," Kevin said, "I'm not really much of a critic, though."

Anthony laughed. "Not much of a critic you say? Really?"

Kevin's ears twitched. "Not like that. I mean, constructively. I know what I like, but I couldn't tell you why or anything."

"I'm just asking you to listen."

Anthony checked the tuning of the guitar by ear. When he was satisfied, he gave it a few test strums before he took a deep breath, fingered his first chord, and began to play.

If anything, it was more beautiful the second time around. Maybe it was the intimate setting, Kevin didn't know. Then the vocals began and Kevin lost his breath. At first Anthony's voice was weak, as if he was only just barely able to force himself to form the words, but quickly his voice gained in power. It began:

I reach for the light, but I see no stars

The death of my sun has branded my heart

Life without you is empty of faith

A dark abyss of infinite space

Lost in the dark

Crawl on my knees

Nowhere to go

No god to please

No way to bring you back to me

It wasn't the words themselves that touched Kevin so. The spirit behind them, the raw emotion in Anthony's voice alone threw him back to those first hard days after he'd lost Herbert. A sob built in his chest and he desperately held it back, afraid of breaking the spell Anthony was weaving. There was no way he could hold back the tears, however. In moments he could no longer see. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth.

The song seemed to fill every nook and cranny of his soul. It tore at the pain he had hidden away for so long, trying to deny it to keep his sanity, bringing it to the surface like cleansing fire. The sob broke out, but the song didn't stop. Anthony kept playing, though Kevin was certain that his vocals had undergone a change. Each syllable seemed its own sob of agony, mirror images of Kevin's own.

Finally the song ended.

Kevin wiped away the tears from his face, found Anthony in the same state. He drew his handkerchief and blew his nose. Anthony did the same with the handkerchief Kevin had given him. After a few minutes, they regained control of themselves.

Kevin felt different. A weight that he had carried seemed gone now, perhaps burnt away by the fire of Anthony's song. The darkness that had always seemed to be around the edges of his vision was gone, as if the night had retreated. Their eyes met. Anthony set aside his guitar and moved across to the couch and sat next to Kevin.

"Have you ever pretended to be someone else well enough or for long enough that you forgot who you really are?" Anthony said.

Kevin shook his head, "I haven't."

"Me neither." He looked down at his hands, "Kevin, I... could I..."

Kevin leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth. After a moment of, perhaps fearful reticence, Anthony kissed him back.