Cynocephalae Eleutherius ("The Posstitute") Part 2

Once again, thanks to MightyPH for his character, Duke.

Official /hmoba/ Art and Writing Discord Server: https://discord.gg/QyXBnBFV

Potentially disturbing content regarding the sexual abuse of minor characters (not featuring detailed descriptions of such acts) begins at the header labeled {RED FLAG} and is concluded before the header labeled {GREEN FLAG}

Duke takes the opportunity to share more of his past, get it off his chest.
"At first, I thought I was just delaying my plans for a couple months. I'd avoid the brunt of the backlash, everyone would get over it and I could go home and live my life again. But that didn't happen. My parents stayed angry for a long time, and they let me know it, and exactly how everyone else with an opinion was taking it. Running off wasn't the right choice. It made me look guilty when I was a victim."

Duke's mood shifts from frustration to an accumulating retrospective regret. "So with that blown, I eventually started thinking I oughta say good riddance to it all and reject everything they 'wanted me to be.' Water it down and just say they hated me for being gay. I started talking and acting like a stereotype. The stupid voice and everything. Just about the only thing I don't regret about that time is what it did for my sense of fashion, and even then, anymore, I feel like I want to put that behind me too. I'm almost 30, for God's sake."

You don't want him to get caught up in a bad place. You challenge the negativity. "I'm sure you were just figuring yourself out, Duke. You were still a teenager back then. That process wasn't a lie. You were just exploring your options to see what resonated with you, and you took from it what you wanted and nothing you didn't when you moved on. You wouldn't be who you are today without that. What you've been through has made you wise in a really particular way that I don't even feel worthy of, even if I don't know the whole story yet. None of it is wasted, and everything you've shown me proves you're not only deserving of a better life, but capable of getting there, too."

You feel like it's an appropriate time to start tipping your hand about your feelings. "Even if we met on different terms, I'd still be very glad to have someone like you as a friend. And I might be getting ahead of myself here, but I'd be extremely proud to have you as more than that, whatever you'd like to call it. The depressive, self pitying expression on Duke's face is replaced by one of mild surprise, then curiosity. "What? Really? I- Uh, I'd- I couldn't- I'd have'ta- Y'know what, keep talking. I'll figure out what to say when you're done."
He struggles with his words, and you continue as he asked. "I'm emotionally invested in you, Duke, and I know it's real. Seeing who you really were in that diner made the attraction more than physical. Tonight has made me even more sure of that. When I fell asleep next to you, everything felt right in the world. The next time I woke up in my own bed, it felt wrong not having you there. If you could do that to me in spite of the miserable venue, there's nothing it could be but real. To tell you the truth, that's what this whole date has been for. I've been longing for you. Not just craving your body. Somehow, you're even more beautiful on the inside than you are on the outside. That's no small accomplishment. I want everything you are, Duke, very badly."

Duke is moved by your words, but he's trying his best not to show it. Perhaps as part of that, he reverts to his 'professional' voice. "I couldn't do that to you. You'd have to share me. It wouldn't be a relationship at all. Really, it does sound good to me, I love the idea. But I can't put you through that. I'm sorry."

What if that wasn't true? All the suggestions you gave him the first time you met are still just as good. "What if I didn't have to share you? I could take out a good loan to help you pay down your bad one so you can get a real job. If you're not happy with that, we can wait and I'll tighten my belt and cut some costs so I can save enough money to help you out. And there's always the option of asking the readers for support. We always get great results surprisingly quickly. We raised about $6000 in a single week when one of our readers asked us for help after some complications with her husband's cancer treatment. That money made it a lot easier to buy a stairlift for him."

Duke's still trying his best to remain stoic. "I meant it. I can't take charity. I just can't."

You persist. "Okay, maybe we can't do the last one, I knew that was a long shot. But tell me, if I do things for you while we're in a relationship, Does that really count as charity? Or am I just doing right by you as prospective family?"

"Family?..." He asks, trailing off. Duke wasn't expecting that, his defense mechanism drops and he's speaking normally again. "A little over a week ago, you didn't even know I existed, and I only just barely knew you as words on a damn page, and I didn't even think they all belonged to the same person."

You did say 'prospective family,' but you doubt reiterating that is going to do much good. "How much does that really matter, Duke? I know you better at this moment than I know plenty of my actual relatives. The evidence of how close we really are is on the floor in front of us right now. You came here with the express intention that we would get even closer than that. I saw how happy you were, how much gratitude was in your heart when I took some of the weight off your shoulders by letting you vent. It felt amazing to do that for you, and I'd love to keep getting opportunities to make you that happy again. I like you a lot Duke. It's been getting harder and harder to resist saying it."

After a moment of contemplation, Duke finally responds. "We're getting off track here. What you're saying is working, You're making my damn heart go crazy, you fuckin' sap. I'm really flattered by all the stuff you're saying. And to be honest, I have a lot of feelings of my own I'd like to talk about. But I'm scared as Hell we'll be done when I tell you the truth. We've established that. I know you're gonna keep saying 'nothing could be so bad I'd toss you out, Duke.' I want you to fuckin' prove that. I can't keep dicking around about this. Do you want me to tell you this minute, or do we go upstairs right now and give each other the best we got, and I'll tell you the truth tomorrow morning?

"Tell me now." You request. "I don't think the 'best we've got' is what's in store with all this baggage in the way. And I won't be made a liar. After the second time, I would have hoped you'd get that. But if this is what it takes, so be it. What happened? What did you do? What put you in this situation in the first place?"

Duke takes a deep breath. "Fine, I warned your ass."
I was groomed by a fuckin' pedophile!" Duke exclaims. "But that's not the part that fuckin' kills me. Y'know what is? Those years were the most fulfilled and purposeful ones in my whole life! Until you turned up and proved I wasn't just broken by that motherfucker, I never thought I'd be that happy again! But that's not the fuckin' deep dark secret I've been scared to tell you about. 'S'far as I've heard, all that shit's more or less normal for people like me.
The truth is. I fuckin' helped the bastard! To hurt other kids! And there was no hiding that shit. Everyone was gonna know it."

There's the Byford thing. You're surprised to hear that Duke took an active role. "Duke. That doesn't scare me at all. Some monster got under your skin and exploited your vulnerability. Probably convinced you of awful things, too, didn't he? I told you, my feelings wouldn't change. I care about you and respect the person you are. Some mistakes you made before you knew better don't make you a monster today. You can't keep letting it kill you inside."

{RED FLAG}

"That's the thing." Duke continues. "I should'a knew better. I knew what Pastor Mike was doing with me. I knew he was giving me all this damn talk about how 'God made us this way for a reason.' 'The world doesn't know how clever and mature you really are.' 'When you're ready, we'll tell everyone the truth, and make the world a better place, together.' Dipshit I was, I didn't even think for a second he was spewing that shit to everyone else. I honest to God thought I was in a fuckin' romance story and this guy just happened to fall for me, and we were gonna fight to change the world together, proud of who we were. Win hearts and minds. It didn't matter I was 13, I thought I knew everything back then, like everyone fuckin' does. I thought I was a special little genius who was ready for adult stuff, unlike everyone else."

Hearing Duke's side of the story from his own mouth is a little more jarring than you were expecting, but it doesn't change who he is. He deserves your support. He's not ineligible for love and intimacy just because he has some scars. Byford wins if he's still getting to control Duke's life while he's rotting in a cell. You encourage Duke to go on. "Keep going, Duke. Tell me everything you need to. I think you'll feel better for it. I'm here for you."

"Pastor Mike, Mike Byford. He ran this shitty little church in a strip mall. I was never a religious kid. My dad wasn't raised going to church at all. My mom, she basically followed Pap. And Pap, he had so many horror stories about Catholic school he basically decided to just pick and choose what he believed. He taught me all the core stuff, the Ten Commandments, made sure I knew exactly why Christmas and Easter were a thing. But he was never big on the actual Bible. Told me stories about what Hell would be like if I were a bad person. Told me I'd have anything I wanted and more if I made it to Heaven. And that most people..."

Duke chokes up. "Most people didn't have a clue about what God wanted for'm, and we weren't supposed to. Even if they had their books and their stories and their Saints and rituals. The way he sees it, Everyone was ultimately talking about the same God and that they all probably had just a piece or two of the puzzle right, and we'd all figure it out together when the time came. If you asked him, he'd say God sends us back as many times as it takes to get it right. I was never quite sure how that was supposed to work with Hell. I never asked. Needless t'say, I didn't have a lick'a experience with formal religion. So I was a confused teenager wondering when I was gonna start liking girls while these 'intrusive thoughts' about guys kept getting worse and worse. I was starting to think I was going crazy, or that if I gave into them, I'd change somehow and I wouldn't be myself anymore. His 'Family Link Church' was tailored to catch misfits like me. Almost all of the materials they distributed were for teenagers struggling with their feelings and identity. That should have been the first sign something was wrong, but they did everything in their power to look like a pillar of the community. Charity, public events, if you were having a big family event and you asked, even if you weren't a member of the church, they'd have someone come out and take video of it for you, then edit it and burn it to a DVD for you, for free. It looked nice from the outside. My parents were perfectly happy for me to be involved with Family Link. Pap had reservations about it at first, for obvious reasons, but once I told him how different the things Pastor Mike was saying were, he was on board too."

"To the point" Duke redirects. "Pastor Mike would have private "confessions" with each of us on a regular basis. He'd ask questions and I'd talk about my feelings, and he really got me trusting him. Eventually the 'intrusive thoughts' came up, and I was done for. Pastor Mike was the first person to tell me that they were okay and there was nothing wrong with me for having them. Granted, I had never told anyone else. And it really threw me for a loop too, Everything I had ever seen told me that God didn't want people who chose to be that way. I didn't feel an urge to defy God, and I didn't act the way I thought gay people had to, so I thought there was no way I could be one. Pastor Mike changed that."

You say something, just to make sure Duke knows you're paying full attention. "Sounds like you have a lot of conflicted feelings tied up in this."

Duke actually laughs. "Oh, you don't know the half of it yet, Anon."

He continues his explanation. "It didn't take long before Pastor Mike was asking me questions about my preferences. Like a dumbass, I told him the truth, I liked humans who dressed nice and took care of themselves, but didn't try too hard to the point it got gross. And of course, he smelled the blood in the water. He said 'Sounds a lot like me. You don't have a crush on me, do ya? Ha ha!' And like a total fuckin' idiot, I admitted I did. It kept escalating from there, he admitted he could relate, started telling me about all kinds of gay stuff. It was like boiling a frog. I kept volunteering more information and he kept digging. He told me I wouldn't be able to admit who I was in a town like Anthracite without being treated like an outsider, and that was probably the truth. So he offered to make a safe space for me and give me any guidance I needed. I started spending more of my free time with him and from the outside, it just looked like I was really taking to the church. In reality, I was just alone and grappling with the consequences of adolescence. At first, Mike just taught me the bare minimum. Sex toys, getting and keeping myself clean and safe. Stuff like that."

Duke is dreading telling the next part. You can see it in his eyes. "Next he gave me ample access to a 'private space' to do as I pleased. I found out much later he was recording everything, probably selling it, too. But eventually my curiosity and my hormones got the better of me, and he actually started leaving crumbs and dropping fucking hints so that I'd be the one making advances on him instead of the other way around. He pretended like I was just so persistent I wore him down. That he was doing something he wasn't proud of for my sake alone. He showed me how much better even just having another person touching you felt. He did a Hell of a job making it feel like I was the one corrupting him. But it didn't stop there, not even close. I did just about everything with him, and I loved it. And once the mask was off, Pastor Mike started feeding me all this nonsense. He claimed to love me. That when I turned 18, we'd tell the world and make it official, with some story to exonerate us, of course. That it would be easier the more people I helped him bring in to Family Link. And I really believed, too. I did help him. I should'a seen past it. It was obvious."

Duke's blaming himself again. "You were just a kid, Duke. He was telling you what you wanted to hear, and giving you exactly what you thought you wanted. Of course you were going to think he could do no wrong. It was never your fault. It was always Byford's fault. He was in your head. You weren't guilty at all."

Tears well up in Duke's eyes. "I don't know about that, Anon. About a year in, there was this much younger opossum kid. I think he was about 8. His name was Toby. He didn't have parents, I never knew the specifics. He was constantly shuffled around the foster care system for most of his life. He ended up at Family Link in hopes he could get some stability and guidance for once in his life. Being half Opossum myself, I ended up as a mentor to him, and let me tell you, whatever horror stories you've heard about foster care, if you've heard anything at all. They're nowhere near as bad as the truth could be. Foster parents who barely qualified, Toby told me about an 'evil stepmother' type whose teeth were rotting out of her head and she and her husband were terrible disgusting people all around. Housing that was only one step above what would get your kids taken away in the first place. People who were only in it for the decent money it made, who already adopted four kids and continued with foster care on top of the adoption subsidies but their hearts weren't in it, even for the kids who were now their own. For every decent household that could support struggling kids properly, there were three that were nightmares on different nights of the week. And those decent households were prioritized to get the kids who were in foster care temporarily, neglect cases, the ones who only had one parent who got a short sentence over a DUI something. So kids like Toby were never stable. All of that is to say, I knew Pastor Mike wasn't totally clean, but when he recommended Toby get shipped off to a 'religious school' he had connections to, I said nothing. The idea scared me, I knew that might be a one way ticket for Toby. A ticket to institutional exploitation by awful people. But, I didn't even do my job and advocate for him."

Duke stops for a moment and wheezes. "God.. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Wherever he is, I hope he forgives me. I didn't even try. I didn't even try! I didn't say 'I think he has too many friends around here to just pull up his roots.' I didn't say 'I don't think he's the type of kid for a school like that.' I didn't even try to talk Mike out of it during 'confession.' I wanted to say 'he isn't like us. You're getting too bold. Toby's way too young.' But I couldn't convince myself to do it. I didn't want to risk what I thought I had. That kid I was supposed to be looking out for got handed off to God knows who. And the only comfort I can find for myself is when I let myself believe it was exactly what they said it was. It's possible. I can't rule it out. But a lot of the time, when I'm trying to fall asleep, I still get flashes in my head of my worst fears about what happened to Toby."

You already knew there was trauma in Duke, and you're starting to see why he was petrified of telling you this. It's still changing nothing for you, If anything it's making you feel even more of a responsibility to help him finally heal those wounds. "Duke. You don't have to torture yourself over not being the most righteous person on Earth at 14 years old, with plenty of problems of your own to worry about. I doubt anything you could have said short of blowing the whole operation wide open would have spared Toby whatever fate he found. And it all did come to an end eventually."

"But I wasn't part of that. It didn't happen 'cause'a me. I wasn't even there to say nothin'." Duke admits. "I was outta there weeks before the news came out. I couldn't stand the thought of bein' judged for being 'Dark Lord Byford's' favorite little minion. Don't you get it? I might'a been the only one in that fluorescent-lit pocket'a Hell who was happy. When I walked in on him when he was with one of the girls, hands 'round'er throat, she was cryin'. My first thought was that he was cheating on me. It took two weeks of thinking about it to realize he was lyin' to me the whole time, I didn't even think of him as a bad guy 'til then. I was more like him than not. I would'a turned into a monster like him myself if it weren't for my own jealousy snapping me outta it. I didn't want things to change. How can I be forgiven for that?"

{GREEN FLAG}

It shouldn't matter how things could have gone. You have to help him move on. "Would you make those same mistakes again? Feel the same way? That's not the man sitting next to me right now. You were alone and lost, Byford took advantage of your loneliness and sexual and emotional frustrations as a teenager. It wasn't your nature making you a monster, it was your desperation to keep something that felt like freedom. The genie couldn't go back in the bottle for you and you'd spend the next few years of your life ashamed and miserable. I can't blame you for not wanting to chew your own leg off to get out of the trap, Duke. I forgive you for that, if it means anything to you. I'm sure in the fullness of time, your family have forgiven you, if they ever blamed you at all. It sounds like you were loved very much, Duke. I'm sure they'd just like to see your face again. I don't know about the peanut gallery who never got the full story, but if they're going to hold a grudge against an abused kid after more than a decade, that's their problem, not yours. You're worthy of love, Duke. If nothing else, you're earning mine. The scars don't ruin you, but the only way they're going to start blending back in and the aching will start fading away is if you put in the work to forgive yourself, and learn how to love yourself. Maybe for the first time, going by what you've told me. I'd be proud to help you."

Duke is almost overwhelmed, he struggles to speak. "You... You mean it? Bullshit. I- I bet you'd... Fuckin' hem and haw. About it... If I ever got the damn strength to see my family again." He recovers his composure, it's the last stand for his denial. "It can't be true. You'd never find the time to go all that way just so I wouldn't be alone, would you? Someone as great as you could never love someone like me. It's just pity. Ain't it? Or it's your dick talkin. You're just tryin' to have me all to yourself for the next couple'a years til' you get bored'a me, or I'm too old for you. Or maybe your silver-tongued ass has just been tellin' me what I need to hear so I'd spill all that shit and your damn paper can limp along for another day, maybe win you some awards."

Duke forces a very insecure and uncertain grin. "I'm right on one of them guesses, ain' I? Ain' I!"

It would normally be nice to know someone thinks you're too good to be true. But this is just too sad to feel good about. "Nope. On all counts. If you needed me for support, I'd drop everything the day you were ready. Tomorrow, next week, next year. Whenever. And if it were just for my own gratification, Duke, I wouldn't have bothered making dinner for you, and we'd never be having this conversation in the first place. I'd just be another one of your clients, that's way easier. As for The Bond, we're doing just fine, and if I were after recognition, I wouldn't leave my name off of all my best work on purpose. I really did just duck into The Cy to get out of the rain. I wouldn't have touched the place otherwise. But I'm grateful for it, because I met you."

You choose your next words carefully. "Someone like me really can love someone like you. You're not as far gone as you make yourself believe. I've meant everything I've said. If and when you're ready for it. If and when you let me. I will be ready to love you, Duke. No matter how long I have to wait."

"God damn it." Duke sniffles. "C'mere." He grabs your shoulders, pulls you in and kisses you.
But, there isn't much intent or passion behind it. In fact, it seems a lot like he's just trying to spare both of you the sights and sounds of his catharsis. You feel him shuddering as his body responds to what must be a complex blend of emotions. You feel the uneven pulses of his breath as he sobs into you. Opening your eyes, you see channels carved by his fur sticking to itself from the tears streaming down his face.

Once he finally gets ahold of himself, that changes completely. He squeezes you tighter, and his broad, thin tongue begins trying to find purchase in your mouth. You let him do as he pleases until he's satisfied. It doesn't feel appropriate to play games here. At least not yet.

When he's had enough, Duke pulls away and smiles. "The Hell do you mean, wait? It sounds like you've already made up your damn mind. Whether or not you love me, is on you. It really ain't up to me to permit, is it? That bein' said..." Duke clears his throat in dramatic fashion for effect, and puts on his well practiced sultry voice. "You're making a Hell of a case for yourself, handsome~."

Apparently, it didn't come out the way he wanted, or he simply thought better of it while it was coming out of his mouth. He laughs it off awkwardly and tries to move on. "Now, are you finally gonna clean up my mess so we can get upstairs? We'll see if you can check off that last box. And I ain't gonna settle for just one round after all'a'at. We're already, what, two and a half hours behind schedule here."

You tell Duke to go ahead upstairs. "It won't take long for me to clean this up, give me ten minutes. If you need it, the bathroom's the middle door."

"Long as you got hot water, I'll be happy. Anything's better than what I got at The Cy." Duke certainly doesn't have high standards.

Somehow, it didn't occur to you his situation was that dire, in the back of your mind, you figured he at least had a gym membership or something. How was he ever getting by before they took him in?

"Is that really how low your bar is, Duke?" You ask, as you begin filling the tank for the carpet scrubber. "I have a lot more than just hot water. I have one of those nice detachable shower heads that's supposed to be good for fur. Bought it back when I thought I'd be putting some effort into finding a relationship and I wanted to be hospitable, but that's about as much as I have to show for that kick I was on. It's not easy getting anywhere when hookups make you uncomfortable. The few guys who gave me a chance all bounced off for the same reason, they all said I felt 'fake' and I needed to 'drop the act' before we could go further. Just in case you wanted another shot of self-esteem, that's how special you are, Duke. I couldn't stay in my shell around you. Not even for a second."

"Oh, God. I've caught some mythical creature, haven't I?" Duke says as he leaves the room, his voice receding to the front of the house.

"You sure ain't a unicorn, 'cause you'd have'ta have at least one rough edge!" He shouts from the bottom of the stairs.

As you clean the carpet, you find yourself in a contemplative state despite, or perhaps because of the disordered noise. What's about to happen finally hits you. An imagined image of what Duke might have experienced at the hands of his abuser flashes in your mind, then of doing the same thing to him yourself. It scares you. Was he right? Were you better off not knowing?
Or is that same apprehension you felt before finding an excuse to creep back in?

Duke isn't broken, and you shouldn't treat him like he is. You're not taking advantage of him at all. Everything you've both felt has been real. And you've had nothing but good intentions in mind the whole time you've known him. Byford didn't make Duke who he is. He exploited who Duke already was, who he still is, though more refined. Duke wants you for you, not because you're pushing the buttons of some wicked complex induced in him. He's not going through motions set out for him. This is what he really wants. It would be letting his past control him to give in to second thoughts now.

You put that out of your mind. It's not the truth.

You finish cleaning up and head upstairs. As you climb the stairs, you notice the door to your office is open. You don't think you left it like that. Duke must have gotten the doors mixed up.
It suddenly hits you. Maybe that could have been a problem. All that snooping you did is still in your browser history. You quickly sit down and make sure Duke won't find any evidence of that if he asks to use your computer. You just didn't know how to tell him. Maybe you should anyway.

You're going to do it. If it breaks his heart, you already blew it days ago, and what you get will be what you deserve. If he understands, you won't have the guilt hanging over you.

You find Duke sitting on your bed, staring blankly at his reflection in the mirror over your dresser, probably still processing something from earlier, because he's so lost in thought he never noticed you in the doorway. "Oh, sorry, Anon. I been off in my own little world here. It's been a long time since I've just set down and actually thought about how I got here. None'a this feels real to me yet."

Oh no. You don't want to take that away from him, but you can't go on without making things right. "Hey, before we do this. I have to set something right. I'm sorry it had to be now, but I couldn't find the right time before."

Duke responds tensely. "Oh God, I knew there had to be a catch. What? You sick or something?"

"No. Nothing like that." You answer. "I went behind your back and did some digging into your past on my own, I was too curious, and I was afraid it'd be something I really couldn't live with. I knew the broad strokes before you told me. I found the news articles about the church, along with evidence you went missing from Anthracite around the same time. I didn't want to force you to talk before you were ready, so I didn't bring it up, I didn't even think I'd know the whole story for a while yet. I shouldn't have invaded your privacy like that. You weren't ready to tell me, so I shouldn't have gone looking on my own. I'm sorry."

"Hehh? Z'at it?" Duke is confused. "I'm not gonna kick your ass over doin' your job. If anything, I'm impressed you pulled it off. That's needle in a haystack stuff. I would'a liked to start in the middle, but I think it was good for me to vent the whole thing anyway. It's all good."

Duke changes the subject. "Since you got me talking again anyway. I might as well vent everything else, too. Until now, I was living under this constant dread. I had no hope my future was gonna get any better. But I didn't want to give up as long as I still had hope I could get somewhere better. I thought I'd manage to get free sometime before I hit 30. I couldn't see myself still doing this by then. Not that I haven't already been tired of it for years now. There was a time I did feel empowered, having guys toss down money proving I was special and getting something out of it for free myself was pretty good, in some ways I can't bring myself to regret it. There's nothing like feeling that free. But there's only so much of that you can take before it stops being special and you start to realize you're missing out."

Duke makes eye contact with you, and you can tell what he's going to say next will be painful for him. "And I knew I'd wake up one day and I wouldn't be worth enough to even tread water. I'd be fucked and left with no time to pivot. Some days, when I was in a particularly bad mood, that sounded like where my life would have to end, and not just figuratively, neither. I never wanted to give up, don't get me wrong. But I was scared I wouldn't have a choice. Either stick with it and become another lost cause coping in all the wrong ways, or go out before I started bleeding dignity. I don't know if that's how it works, maybe I'd feel differently if it actually came to it."

It makes sense Duke would have anxiety about aging, but he seems way too resilient to lose hope, it seems like he thinks it's just something that happens to you when too many things stack up.

Duke continues. "I thought I was broken, I'd never feel right again. Sex was getting meaningless, and I thought love would be gone with it. If nothing else, you've proven that wrong. I don't know if there are words for how thankful I am for what you've already given me. And if there are, there definitely ain't any for how much I'll be thankful if you help me finally come out the other side."

Duke smiles at you. "That thing that happens in cartoons, where there's a little angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other, I get where that comes from now. One second I was thinking 'You fucking idiot, the second Anon comes in here, you're gonna do whatever it takes, cry, beg, give up whatever you have to just to get him to save you. Say whatever you have to. Pride, guilt, they don't matter. It don't matter whether or not it feels like you're letting Mike win. This is the way out. Don't fuck it up. This is the way out.' Then the next, I was thinking, 'No. You can't. You can't take anyone's charity. You'll be letting bastard's methods fix a problem he caused. It's weakness. You have to be better than him.'"

"That's why you won't take charity?" You ask. "That's bullshit. The only 'method' that monster had was doing as he pleased while wearing someone else's skin. Letting honest charity fix what deceptive charity helped to create isn't letting him win."

"You're right, but I still don't feel great about being bailed out" Duke clarifies. "These were my mistakes, and there are a billion other people who wouldn't be so lucky. I've spent the last dozen years'a my life beatin' myself up for not being the hero. But you're right, if it's you, it's not charity. I'll have worked hard to get y'on my side. I'll have earned it. I feel okay about leaving it up to you, Anon. Whatever it is we end up doing. I think I've said enough at this point. Let's get to what we're here for already. And since I'm s'posed to be taking the lead for once. To start with, why don'cha let me see everything, that sounds good."

You quickly and eagerly strip down, both of you have waited long enough already, making a show of it might best be saved for some other time.

Duke is somehow impressed, or at least his tastes are met. "Ooh, pretty good. Not too bony, not too bulky, and not spillin' out all over the place like some of the poor guys I've seen. But still plenty of soft stuff to grab. That's exactly what I like. Cute ass, too, as much as it don't matter, coming from me."

The praise gets you going. You're already hard before he's even touched you. It might have even been in record time.

Duke reacts to your evident enthusiasm. "God, you really weren't kidding when you said you liked how I talked normally. Unless your buddy there can't wait, get over here and let me feel ya up a bit."

Duke stands up and you get closer. He puts his hands on your sides and runs them up and down, pressing his fingers into any contours or soft spots he finds interesting. He bites his lip, exhales through his nose, then leans down and gives you a lick, up your neck, all the way from your collarbone to your jaw. "Oh yeah. This is different. I'm really fuckin' feeling it for once. It's been so fuckin' long I don't remember anything but the rush itself. It's back."

"I'm back." He growls. "Maybe it's just 'cause it's been a while since my heart's been in it, but it almost feels new. The last time I had this feeling in my stomach was-" Duke stops himself. "Way too long ago."

Duke initiates a kiss, and this time, you take an active role. You both maneuver your tongues around, desperate for contact and friction as he continues to squeeze and rub any part of you he can get a good grip on.

He finally works his way down to your ass, and the first squeeze makes you jump. He's getting brave. You might have to set some boundaries if he starts getting wild, or if he tries anything funny. You're not into that.

He knows he might be going too far though, and backs off to ask. "You okay? Is that off limits?"

You let him know where your limits are. "Not that in particular, no. But I don't want you smacking anything or trying to get your fingers in there."

"I wasn't planning on it." Duke reassures you. "I've had enough of the foreplay, anyways. I'm ready."

Duke flops backwards onto the mattress, and you grab the lube off the dresser. Duke already used a good bit for himself, but more will never hurt.
You make sure you're well coated, and Duke puts his feet up on your shoulders. He doesn't quite fit in your bed. You make a mental note to invest in a new bedframe and mattress.

You line yourself up, and slowly plunge yourself in, eliciting an uncharacteristic moan from Duke, you swear you can see the hearts in his eyes. As expected, he's not exactly a vice, but you're not struggling to get friction at all. He's pretty good. As you give him a few thrusts, you notice he isn't getting hard himself.

He notices you looking and preempts your question, as preoccupied as he is. "That's... Normal. You have to... Touch it first. Even downstairs... It was the damn jeans. I'll... Leave it up to you. I like both ways... A-about the same."

You reach forward and run your thumb along the underside of his dick a couple times. You don't want to do too much, just wake it up. You think it looks better that way. Make it flop around, not jiggle.

Duke probably couldn't speak anymore even if he had to. He's too busy gripping your sheets so hard they're pulling off your bed and getting absolutely lost in what you're doing to him. He's making cute faces and noises, and writhing around, his legs are even starting to tremble.

You're running out of time, you speed up involuntarily, and not long after, you're already over the edge. Thankfully, the sensation of you cumming inside of him makes Duke's own orgasm more or less simultaneous. Unlike before, what comes out of him is much thicker and less forceful as it dribbles out in lazy spurts onto his belly.

"Ahh! Ho-ly fuck!" Duke exclaims, through a breaking voice. "How the Hell... Did'ja manage that? Ugh. I think that might've been the fourth time I've ever cum without t-touching it. I-It d-doesn't happen."
His composure slowly returns to him. "I think the last time was... The first time I took money. So it's been a while. Good... Good job. We're not done yet, though. We'll take a break and try something else."

It looks like Duke wasn't kidding. He really isn't satisfied yet. It's going to be a challenge to keep up with him, but you're willing to run yourself completely dry to make him happy, if that's what it'll take. He deserves it.
That might happen sooner rather than later if you push yourself too hard. "I need to run downstairs and get something to drink. I should have brought some up with me in the first place. You want anything, Duke?"

"If you got anything with no sugar and some electrolytes, I'll take that." Duke requests. "It don't matter what brand or flavor. I'm just gonna slug the whole thing down. I'm not a big fan of them artificial sweetners."

You quickly run downstairs and grab a couple bottles of water, an energy drink for yourself, and the only zero sugar sports drink in the mini fridge for Duke. You're lucky you still had one in the back.

Back on the upper level, Duke's in the bathroom again, so you're waiting a couple minutes. But then you hear a knock on the wall. You're about to get up and check on him, but he comes around the corner on his own, and knocks on the same wall from the other side.

"Why ain't the door here? These are the master bedroom and bathroom, aren't they? They really just put the sink in the wrong place?" Duke wonders openly. "I thought maybe the wall was full'a old razor blades like some'a these houses can be, but there's no slot in the back of the cabinet, so it ain't that. It'd be a lot more convenient if y'could just go from one to the other."
+++
You don't know much about the history of the house. If you recall correctly, the second floor bathroom was added well after the house was built, still way before your parents bought it. So that might have something to do with it. "I agree, it is pretty annoying, but I couldn't tell you why they did it that way. What makes you ask?"

"Oh, I just got an eye for stuff like that. Always been good with math, always had a sense for how things work and fit together." Duke explains. "I was already planning on getting a degree in Aerospace Engineering before I even started High School. I even won the state science fair thing with a rig I built to demonstrate aerodynamic principles and earned myself a pretty big bonus for my college fund. I wonder about what could'a been all the time. Maybe I wouldn't be happy there either. I feel like I wouldn't've had to rely on a miracle to solve that, though."

That fills in some more details. "That's what actually made it possible to put the pieces together about your past. I found the picture of you from that science fair on the website for the local paper. It looked like you must have been a shy kid."

Duke takes the drink from your hand, cracks the lid, swirls it a few times, then tilts his head back and chugs the whole bottle in one swift action. He's visibly disgusted. "Eugh. Bleh. That stuff always tastes like paint smells. I don't know how anyone can stand it." He moves on to answer your question. "No, believe it or not, I wasn't a shy kid at all, If anything, I probably got on a lot'a people's nerves. I was that annoying kinda kid with too much enthusiasm. Everything I liked, I just had to share. Any conversation about somethin' I was interested in, I had to get at least a few words in. If I looked uncomfortable in that photo, it was because I didn't like all the fanfare I was gettin' over something so trivial."

"What, did you expect them to demand a PhD defense?" You joke.

"Kinda, yeah." Duke answers, despite your intent. "I was hoping it would be closer, at least. Everyone else in the contest just went with your normal fare, just presented well. I was the only one presenting something unique at an advanced level. So it wasn't even close. I felt awful for the girl who came in second. She put a lot of effort into making a volcano display. It was like a movie prop. She even had it make orange slime instead of the normal foam. I don't even know how she did it. I think she deserved more credit. I felt bad being treated like that was so far beneath me.

Did they really put him on that much of a pedestal? How much of a prodigy could he have been at that age? "What exactly did you enter, Duke? Maybe it really was just that much better."

Duke describes his work modestly. "It wasn't that special. Just a blower, a fog machine and some PVC pipe. You couldn't even compare the wings in the clear sections at the same time. I had to manually switch which display was connected. It was pretty rough looking compared to everyone else's work.
And it was way too involved. I explained all the math behind it. Geometry stuff, aerodynamics. It wasn't fun for anyone but me. Imagine competing against that and losing after puttin' in all that effort."

It was a science fair, not an art contest. "They hold those competitions to reward the kids who would benefit the most from those scholarships, right? You proved you knew what you wanted to be doing by then, and that you really were cut out for it."

Duke corrects you. "Well, it didn't do me, or anyone else, any good. It don't bother me anymore. I don't want'cha gettin' that idea. But even if I stuck to my plans, it would've been wasted on me. I could'a got by on my own. I don't know if that's true about everyone else there. How could I not feel a little guilty about that?"

He has a point. "I'm sure when you didn't claim it, they took it back and rolled it into the prize for someone else."
"I hope s-" Duke interrupts himself. "Wait, that article you found had my name in it, didn't it? Killed all the mystery and made me look like a dork, huh?"

"No, why would it?" You reassure him. "You go by your middle name, people do that all the time."

"Ain't it undignified or somethin'?" He asks sarcastically. "Pulled in three different directions. Dorky outta date 'Abe,' Tough guy 'Duke' and fancy-ass 'Bouchet.' Maybe fate didn't know what to do with me. Maybe that's why I turned out like this."
Duke moves on from the joke. "No, seriously. I just didn't know when I was gonna get a good opportunity to tell you, it seemed like it could only be awkward. Glad I don't have to worry about that now."

"What's the worst that could've happened? You ask. I say 'Oh, cool, where did that come from?'"

Duke explains his apprehension. "I got my share of shit back in the day over my first and last names. It's a weak spot for me, and I was worried I wouldn't be able to keep my cool if I told you and you said something like, 'Wow, that doesn't fit you at all.' Or 'Ooh, I bet those assholes called you names.'" Duke sighs. "'Cause they did. You know what it was like to be a kid back then. I don't think anyone's ever beaten a horse as dead as calling me 'Douchet.'"

You get the picture. "I stand corrected. I don't blame you for feeling that way. It feels a little strange your parents would pick that name for you on their own. Do you know if there was a special reason for it?"

"It's actually a funny story. My parents basically didn't get a choice." Duke reveals. "Dad's parents were already pissed off about him getting himself in a shotgun wedding situation. There's apparently some tradition on that side of the family that every first son gets named after some ancestral Abraham. And they weren't willing to budge on that, and he wasn't lookin' to make the water he was in any hotter, so they didn't have a choice on the first name. Then Pap comes in, pissed off himself that they're bein' that picky, and he starts jokin' he should get the right to my middle name for fairness, and to give me a shot at being a cool kid. So, being a fan of that old show with the car jumps and women in cut down jean shorts, he 'demands' my middle name be Duke. They all get a laugh out of it, and they make something up to make it seem less like an intentional middle finger to the other side."

His grandparents sound like a handful. "Is that why you didn't see your dad's side of the family often? Rough terms?"

Duke thinks about it for a moment. "Shit. Yeah, good point. I bet that's part of it. I wouldn't be surprised if it was only the final straw though. I didn't even realize they weren't just busy all the time."

"Y'know, given how much they care about that legacy stuff, I wonder how things went down when my parents told'm what happened to me." Duke begins to speculate. I bet they were countin' on seeing me in some perfect little happy marriage with a Snow Leopard woman. Pretend like the Opossum wasn't there at all. Dilute it out. That wasn't ever happenin'. Even if I wasn't gay. I've never hated what I am."

"Did you ever get the impression that's what they really believed?" You ask.

"Neh." Duke knows he's letting a gut feeling take control. But.. Come on, is it really that outta left field for people that snooty to also be intolerant assholes? They all but disowned my dad just for having me and held some kinda ritual price over his head just to stay in contact, not even support us. If what I do, what I've done, from that first feeling of freedom in shady bathroom stalls to my weakest moments, If everything from back then to right here and now pisses 'em off. Good. I ain't ashamed, and I ain't broken. Even when the numbers didn't come up in my favor and I was almost helpless, when they'd just take what they wanted from me instead'a paying for it, or at least winning me over first. I can't be ashamed. It's all just survival, and I'd be lyin' if I said there wasn't a time in my life where every single part of it sounded good to me at one time or another. At least until livin' it for myself killed the magic. They say you reap what you sow, and sometimes that was wheat, a lot of the time it was barley, and sometimes, it was fuckin' sorghum, or whatever the Hell it is they grow for livestock. You get yourself into this line of work, and you have no choice but to make peace with it and accept it as an occupational hazard. That's the other reason I quit anthros, after all. A lot of those guys are just that much bigger and stronger than I could ever hope to be. By comparison, humans are much more consistent."

That's a lot of heavy stuff being brushed aside. "Oh, wow, Duke. I'm sorry all that happened to you."

"Don't be." He insists. "I chose that life, and I even had some pretty wicked fantasies'a my own. I got exactly what I bargained for. It don't keep me up at night. Don't get me wrong, I ain't one of them 'I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat' stories. If I could go back in time, I'd stop all this from happening. Maybe fate still would'a brought us together, maybe it wouldn't." Duke lets that cliche hang in the air for a moment to see if you'll comment.

You don't have anything to say. You wouldn't expect Duke to choose this. You let him continue. "I can't let the hurt change me, I'm not gonna be a different person over anything anyone does, 'cept me. I been hurt a million times. But it never hurts to want better. Even if you never get there, it's worth it to hope. Before, I was just puttin' my head down and giving everything I had to make it back to normal. I didn't want to lose to all the evil that was done to me. It was spite, mostly. That's why I kept takin' care'a myself, why I kept paying the debt. I couldn't be another little tragedy. I couldn't live like this forever."

Duke grabs your hand and squeezes it tightly, looking deep into your eyes. "Then you come in, with nothin' but good intentions. You could'a just bought what you wanted off'a me, and went on your way. But y'didn't. Your first thought was to help me. I didn't know what to do with that. Honest to God, I already felt my heart flutter then and there. I got flustered, and I tried to play it off. I even slipped and let my real voice through with that dumb crick joke. I thought I blew it there. When you walked out that door, I thought 'Fuck, I'm never gonna see that guy again.' Then, what'd'ya do the very next night? You come back, and I'd swear you were treating gettin' your dick sucked like it was a chore, just something you had to get through to keep talkin' to me."

"To be honest, probably wouldn't have approached you if it wasn't for my curiosity about your arrangement in the booth." You confess. "I've never been big on hookup culture, and I would never have considered paying for that experience. But seeing you up close didn't give me a chance to be shy. The fact we hit it off so well the first time is what brought me back, the story is just how I justified it to myself. I knew you weren't lost to that life because of some addiction, or any of the typical motivators."

"I could tell." Duke continues. "Your heart wasn't in it. And even before we started, you were more interested in me than what I was going to do. Sitting down and getting to have a normal meal for once did me a lotta good, and actually getting to talk about my life, I can't even explain how that made me feel. Free, I guess. So much gratitude, I just wanted to do everything I could to prove it to you. And for damn sure, your heart was in it once we got back. No one in their right mind would sleep on that dirty old mattress if they didn't have a good reason. Y'made me real happy that night, Anon. For the first time in forever. Part'a me was scared you regretted it the next morning, judging by how quick you cleared out."

His disposition changing so quickly made you nervous when you actually thought about it the next day. "You just got a little too attached, too quickly, Duke. I felt like I had to give you some time to reflect on it yourself. I wouldn't want to take advantage of you in case there were any vulnerable impulses going on."

"Yeah, I got that impression when I thought about it." Duke concedes. "I was actually planning to apologize the next time I saw you, but you moved on to the date thing before I could get the chance. And now we're here, and even desperate as I was. I wouldn't'a even dreamed of somethin' like this. Exactly my kinda guy walks in outta the cold, makes me feel like I ain't felt in years, and offers to help me after all of five minutes. He don't judge me one bit, sees more in me than I see in myself. He keeps makin' me let go'a all the weight on my shoulders like it's nothing. Then, less than a week later, I'm letting him in on my deepest, darkest secret, he doesn't even fuckin' blink at it. And we're already talkin' about love. That would be wild enough. But then you go and throw some'a the best sex I've ever had in my fuckin' life on top'a that, too.

Duke leans in, and in a low, sultry voice, that's altogether different from the one he puts on, he makes a request of you. "I want- I need- to know if that was a fluke, I need you to do that to me again, It makes me feel whole. And, y'know what? Forget about the damn money. I think I could be done with that for good. Please, fuck me again, no distractions, nothing to worry about except each other."

He rolls onto his stomach and raises his ass, spreading himself open to entice you. He didn't need to do that, but you have to admit, it's working. The delicate pink commands your attention in contrast with the muted colors of his fur.

Duke is vulnerable, desperate and needy in this moment, and willfully so, showing a side of himself that's totally new to you. The first time around, he seemed more eager than desperate, and he was still exuding a sort of confidence even through the compromised position. This isn't like that at all.

"You... uh, up for eatin' ass?" Duke asks cautiously. "'Cause that would be real nice right now."

You are, but you'd do it for him anyway, even if you weren't typically a fan. You want to be good to him, and you did tell him he'd be in charge.

You lean in, resolved to do the best you can for him. You muster up all the spit you can make, but start slowly. You gently lick the outside, getting it nice and wet, to gauge Duke's reaction. He gasps in anticipation, which is a good sign.

With that reinforcement, you proceed. Probing your tongue inside, you taste the remnants of your previous work. The vulgarity of what you're doing hits you, and you find it exciting.

Your tongue swirls around inside Duke. You're trying to reach his prostate, but you might not be getting deep enough for that. Either way, you're getting his ass ready for you again, and he's definitely enjoying it anyway. You can hear him panting and whimpering in front of you.

Once you're satisfied you've done as much as you can, you back off, but not before giving him one last lick on the outside. The perverse complex of taste settles in your mouth.

"Ah, gE-" Duke's voice cracks, from the dryness caused by the panting. He clears his throat to correct it. "Bleh, sorry. You're not bad at that, Anon. Thanks for indulging me. Now, I want you to just pin me down and let your instincts take over."
"Don't even worry about me while you do it. I don't want you holding back at all. I want to know what you can really do to me." He growls.

You climb on top of him, pinning him flat to the bed. You clasp your hands over his from above.
After a few thrusts against the crack of his ass, you line yourself up and plunge into him once again.

This time it feels almost familiar. Like you've done this a thousand times before, not just once. Duke yelps in surprise from the force. Worried you hurt him, you give him a chance to say something.

"Come on." He groans. "I told you to just go wild, and I meant it. You ain't gonna hurt me."

Given the green light, you continue. You give him individual, powerful thrusts and savor each one. He squeaks cutely from them all.

You have to move your hands to get better leverage, and as you do, you caress his face and breathe the words "I'm gonna make you love me. I promise." into his ear.

It's time to give Duke what he really wants. You gather all your strength, and prepare yourself to put all of your energy into him.

Without hesitation or any easing, you lift yourself off of him and slam back down, as fast as you can possibly make your body go. Duke's voice escapes with each stroke, and it wavers as your pelvis slaps loudly against his ass each time. "Eeh~Uhh~Eh~ah~" He manages to get some actual words out too. "Jes~us Christ. Might have bitten OFF~ ...More than I c-c-could CHEW~! Oh~ God, YES! I need this. I need it. Fuck me!"

You can tell you're pushing yourself too hard. You're already getting weak. You have no choice but to finish it before your body gives out.

You switch to a shorter more frantic motion, ravenous to find enough stimulation to put yourself over the edge, and hopefully, Duke alongside you.

You finally have it, and the sheer intensity of the climax is unlike any you've ever felt before, and you feel Duke shuddering and twitching under you shortly after. The feeling of you unloading into him must have been enough to get him over the edge.

Totally expended, you roll off of Duke and collapse into the mattress. "Was- Was that porn dialogue?" You ask, trying to catch your breath.

"I... Dunno." Duke answers, still reeling himself. "If it was... Tellin' you would kill the fun. And If it wasn't, telling you would-" You suddenly fall asleep against your will before he can finish his sentence. You did push yourself too far after all. But it was worth it.

No dreams come to you. What feels like only a brief few moments is spent totally lost to the world. Then, you wake up. Slowly at first. For a second, you're confused. This isn't how you usually wake up. Naked, with a furry body curled up against you. But the pieces come back together.
Duke is still asleep, his head resting on your chest. It feels nice.

You lay there, trying to remain as still as you can, for Duke's sake. And you let your mind wander in contemplation of what might be to come.
Is it really going to work out with Duke? You haven't spent all that much time with him, and neither of you really has a clear picture of the other's day to day life or any of the small facets of your personalities or interests. Your heart wants him. Or maybe it just wants something like him? Maybe there's something about you that'll put him off once he gets to know you for real. Maybe this is all just excitement over a new thing and a good catch that'll wear off over time and you'll grow apart. Maybe Duke has more secrets he's hiding. Probably not, but can you rule that out?

Or maybe... Maybe this is as real as it feels. Maybe this is what it's like when two people who are really right for each other meet? Maybe this is how those whirlwind romances happen? Maybe this is exactly what you want. You don't really want to call it fate, even though Duke seemed to.

In any case, you don't have any reason to proceed with caution. You're already here, and it's already a remarkably intense place to be. You're resolved to help Duke get his life together even if there's a snag that ruins it all. That goal won't change, even if your minds do. At worst, you'll have some fond, but bittersweet memories to look back on. And at best, this is the start of something you couldn't even imagine a year ago, a month ago, or Hell, even a week ago.

You look down at Duke, he looks especially peaceful, maybe even content for once. Now that you're so involved, is it really right to continue writing about him? Well, you're not really writing about him at all, are you? You're writing about "Baron." And if you don't like that excuse, this isn't really the kind of story that demands impartiality, is it? He's not doing this to coerce a better outcome or enrich himself. When you first gave him the option, he wouldn't dare take it.

As you ponder your situation, you find yourself absentmindedly stroking Duke's hair, waking him up in relatively short order. Oops.

But at least he's not upset. Duke stirs, stretches, and rolls over to look you in the eye, with a gentle, satisfied smile. "God, this is nice. It's like last time, n'better than that. I'm actually warm here. This bed ain't a damn biohazard. And I got all kinds'a nice memories a'you outta it, too. I guess I really took it outta ya last night, huh? I didn't even get'ta ask if you really meant it."

"Meant what?" You ask, it's unclear which statement he's referring to.

"You promised you'd make me love you. Did you really mean that? Or was it just somethin' for the mood? I get the feelin' I know the answer, but I wanna hear it from you."

Of course you meant it. "Absolutely, Duke. I did. If it's possible, I don't think there's anything that would make me happier than to have the most special place in your heart to myself. Well... maybe a couple of things. But I'd need the first thing to be the case first for those to even be on the table."

Duke intuits what you mean, and groans in response. "Ughhh, you damn sap! Why do you gotta be so cute all the time? How the Hell do you manage to come up with corny shit like that off the top of your head?"

Duke turns the conversation. "Y'know what? Why don't we get ourselves woken up and ready? We'll keep that coffee shop thing on the schedule after all. 'Cept instead'a me doing the talking, it'll be you. Then, when we get back, I'll have a favor to ask you."

When you get back? "Aren't you going back to The Cy?"

"Eh, I don't feel like it today." Duke answers. "And today's your day off anyway, ain't it?"

Is Duke really giving up the penance mentality just like that? "Are you really planning on sticking around already? You're missing out on a lot of income, aren't you?"

"Nah, the bar doesn't open til' later." Duke reminds you. "I got nowhere to be, and neither d'you, s'far as I know. Why go back to that dirty 'ol room at all? It's been real special hangin' around with you, Anon. Why the Hell would I ever be chompin' at the bit to get outta here?"

The change is impressive. He's not second guessing all the progress he made last night.

"Now, both'a us are fuckin' filthy. To me, that seems like a natural opportunity to keep a good thing goin'. That is, if you're up for it." It looks like you've woken up a monster. A sort of renaissance in Duke's sexuality.

Maybe now that his heart is in it for once, he's trying to make up for lost time? As long as it doesn't get out of hand, you can't really blame him. You're starting to think you're in the same boat, too. You've never been so invested in another person before, and it feels really good to just let your heart take over.

You take Duke up on his offer and you move on to the shower together.
%%%
There isn't exactly enough room in your shower to bend him over and go to town on him all over again, but you're not going to be crammed in either.
You turn on the shower and give it a minute to warm up.

Duke steps in first, and he positions himself just right to make it impossible for you to follow him without brushing against his dick. And naturally, as you do, it stimulates him enough to hand control over to his libido. He really is insatiable today, and eager for an excuse. You're happy to oblige him, but you know he wants to make a game of it.

"Oop, watch your step there, fag. I'd almost think you're tryin' to touch me." Duke remarks, playfully.

"I don't know. I might be. I sure could do a Hell of a lot worse." You respond, having picked up on the vibe he's improvising. "I'm pretty sore today, I could do with the help."

The water quickly saturates Duke's fur, and it reveals a lot of fine detail as the fur sticks more closely to his body. Where before the features were softened by the volume of his fur, to the point that a casual observer might call him androgynous at best, now you can see his true build. There's an understated and delicate strength and breadth to him. The collarbone, shoulders and sternum which were all softened by his fur are now prominently displayed and at once, they somehow both whisper and scream into your head 'This is a man' and 'This is an incomparable beauty" at the same time. You're taken aback at the brand new appreciation of his form that you weren't expecting to find at this point. Duke isn't just pretty, he's not just hot. He's a handsome guy whose looks aren't carried by any one thing.

Scanning down the rest of his body, you realize he's just a little bit thin, you can see his ribs, and there's a little too much definition in his pelvis for comfort. It looks like last night's dinner might have been a bigger deal for him than he let on. If that's really a problem, you won't do him the indignity of bringing it up, if there's more where last night came from, and he's really going to finally turn off the red light, you have the feeling it's going to solve itself before too long.

That said, even without the fur cheating for him, his hips and thighs are still well on the broad side, for a guy. They're conjuring no fewer lewd thoughts in your head than they did before. You absolutely are trying to touch him. How could you not be, when he looks like that, and is just as hungry for it as you are, too?

You break your stunned silence, and take charge of the back and forth for once. "Damn. I was worried you were going to look like a poor little wet dog in here. But-"

Duke cuts you off. "Y'sure? Y'sure I don't look like a 'wet rat' instead? I know I shouldn't get all hot n' bothered gettin' put down like that. God knows I had way too much'a that BS in my time. But when it was you sayin' it, all kinds'a buttons got pushed and I just melted. You've gotta promise to keep the 'rat' card in your back pocket for me."

You just said whatever came to mind and rolled off the tongue well. It hadn't even occurred to you that calling him a 'stubborn little rat' was like a slur.
But, you can absolutely work with what he's giving you, and you don't need to admit it was a dumb mistake, because it worked out.

You put the pressure on. "Oh, it's not going on standby, Duke, not when you tell me something like that."

"How would you feel if I told you you were-" You grab the bottle of body wash from the shelf, and squeeze a healthy amount into your hand. "A dirty. Filthy. Rat?" You fling the soap into Duke's chest and dig your fingers into the fur of his pecs, starting to lather him up. "A dirty, filthy rat, who I pulled outta the gutter. A rat I need to clean up. A rat I need to work all the bugs and worms out of. A rat I need to make into my own pretty little companion, to take for myself."

It's getting through to Duke. He's like putty in your hands. "Oh~ g-geez- Good. I feel good. I like hearin' that."

"Yeah?" You ask as you continue working the soap into his fur. "What else do you like? I bet you'd like it-" You grab him by his wrists and shove him gently into the wall. "I bet you'd like it if I pinned you to this wall. If I just went wild on you. If I stuck my tongue down your throat and started grinding on you like an insatiable pervert."

"Oh G-God~ I didn't think y'had this in you." Duke whimpers. "Do it. It's so fuckin' good."

You waste no time and kiss him as deeply as you can. His long snout puts a damper on your plans. You're definitely not reaching his throat. So you settle for just being as forceful and lewd as you can, exploring his mouth and bullying his tongue with your own in equally intense measure.
Meanwhile, you press as much of your body against Duke as you can.

Like an overeager opportunist jumping at the first chance he gets, you grind your dick against whatever's closest. Duke's outer thigh, then the inner thigh, then his balls, where you linger for a while. Feeling their weight against you as the soft, fuzzy sack seems to conform to your dick is finally making some connections for you. You understand the balljob thing now. But regardless, you move on to the main event.

You frot yourself against Duke as he squeaks and whines into your mouth. He starts wiggling his arm, trying to free his hand. so you let it go.
He uses his now free hand to feel you as you move, also sharing the suds. Still never sharing a word.

Even for all the thrusting you're doing, you have to admit, it hasn't been very effective. Duke must feel the same way, as he uses his free hand to grip both of your cocks together and increase the friction. Much better.

You finally let Duke catch his breath, and keep laying on the provocations. "Oh, am I boring my poor little rodent? Or is he just an impatient little brat?" You rasp, as sensually as you can manage. "I guess the submissive streak only goes so far. Huh?."

Duke's had enough of the tough act, and meets your gaze with a cute and unserious expression, rolling his eyes. You take it as a signal to cut it out. You release his other hand, which he braces on your shoulder.

Duke squeezes the both of you together, and begins his manipulation. Between his skilled hand and his pulsating warmth on the other side, it doesn't take long to bring you close to cumming. You bite your lip, trying to hang on for just another moment.
Duke smirks at your reaction. "Heh-heh. I- hhh, knew y'couldn't- Ahh, stay in the driver's seat too long. Y'big ol' sweetheart. Go ahead. Let it out. Share it with me."

The sultry gentleness of his words is impossible to resist, and Duke's expertise on both the physical and emotional fronts is indisputable as he manages to bring you, and himself to simultaneous orgasm.

You really did find the winning lottery ticket a storm drain, didn't you? Duke is everything you could ever want. Pretty and handsome at the same time. It's just as easy for him to play the seducer as it is to be just another one of the guys. He knows how to make himself relatable, but he doesn't have to hide who he is to do it.

Duke bristles with joy, losing himself in cathartic laughter. "Holy shit. It's real. I fuckin' lo- Fuckin' love this. It's like I've been dead for years, and you've gone and managed to wake me up, or somethin'. It wasn't a damn fluke. It feels like it used to again. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Duke quickly grabs the body wash again. "Now. C'mere. We can't have that much hot water left."

He takes it upon himself to do everything for you, carefully and diligently scrubbing you with a gentle enthusiasm, and all the while, the smile never leaves his face.

As he washes your back, it occurs to you, you might have tried too hard. "I overdid it with the 'rat' thing, didn't I? I killed the mood."

"Hell no, y'didn't." Duke assures you. "It's just that I was gonna laugh if you kept up that silly fuckin' gruff voice. I just had you quit while you were ahead. Everything else was gettin' me real good."

"If you're into that stuff." You remark. "Maybe we should get you a pair of those novelty handcuffs, so I can do it right next time."

"What, like from one of them old 'dirty bookstores?' Neh-neh. I had enough of those places in my life. And t'be honest, I think it's outta my system for now, thanks. Y'might wanna order them online though, anyways. Just in case the mood hits me again."

Duke's already talking about the future? You guess that makes sense, he's been doing nothing but praise you since he woke up. It seems like his mind is made up, but he's reserving his 'official' judgement for later.

You both rinse off quickly, before you really do run out of hot water, you dry off and get yourself dressed.
But it looks like Duke's having some trouble. "Ah, shit. I don't got anything clean t'put on. Barely got anything t'put on at all, clean r'not. I know this's a long shot, but d'ya have anything I can borrow? I don't wanna embarrass ya.

You don't know if you have anything that would fit his unusual frame. But after some digging around, you find an old purple graphic tee that just about works for him. Oh yeah. the badger guy you met a couple times left that here. You meant to return it to him, but you never saw him again. Then you forgot about it entirely.
In any case, most of the printing has flaked off, and you can't remember what was on it, even if you did know at one point. And luckily, you have an older pair of jeans that just barely fit Duke. He has to struggle to squeeze himself into them.

Duke ends up a little bit uncomfortable, but at least he's clean and somewhat respectable, which is a step up for him.

You suggest some potential alternatives to the coffee shop you planned for last week. "You know, we could talk over a normal breakfast, or get coffee somewhere closer. We don't have to go with the one I wrote down."

"What?" Duke doesn't quite understand. "S'there somethin' wrong with it? And if there is, why the Hell do you suggest it t'people?"

It's mostly for practical reasons. "Well, it's in a location that's convenient for most people I'd be interviewing, it makes a really good neutral space, and they have pretty good prices. All stuff we're not concerned with today, Duke."

"You were really gonna tell me to fuck off? And not only 'at, you'd do it without even buyin' me a decent coffee?" Duke pouts, jokingly.

"No, no. There would have been more interviews after that, if you were up for them." You explain your reasoning. "Like I said, I just didn't know if what I am, and what I represented to you got tangled up in your head in the wrong way. If you were still swooning over me, either because it was too soon for the after effects to wear off, or because we were in a space you're a little too comfortable with, the whole deal could've started getting shady. I didn't want to be intimate with you just because I helped you vent, once.

"Did I really come off that way? I really tried not to." Duke asks, with genuine guilt in his voice. "Would you believe it could'a been even worse? Halfway back from the diner, I had some wild shit runnin' through my head. 'I need fucked now, won't say no to anything, won't take no for an answer' kinda stuff. If I didn't think better of it, I bet I really would'a scared you off. It was a Hell of a fight in my head."

"I guess we're not quite done with the self-doubt yet, are we?" You respond. You're getting tired of this, but it figures it comes with the package. "You did think better of it, Duke. That's what matters, and that's what shows who you really are."

Duke realizes he made a mistake there. "Don't worry. I'm not back on my bullshit. I just think it's funny how desperate I got for a minute there. It actually felt good. To want someone I'd have to put in the work for, for once."
He turns his head and stares off at nothing in particular for a second, trying to recall something. "I don't think I've ever had that before. I went from hearin' whatever would keep me in that Hellhole, to takin' whatever fell in my lap. Eh, takin' whatever lap I fell into is more like it. Then from there... you know the rest at this point. Point is, I've only ever been chased. I've never done it myself, until you, Anon. The change has done me a lotta good."

"It hasn't felt like a chase to me." He's had you from the start. "You haven't had to convince me of anything. I was in your corner as soon as I heard your story, Duke."

"Neh-neh. Yes, I fuckin' did. You weren't even up for a handy." Duke corrects you. "Every other guy I've been with was sweating already at word one. You're different, and I can't help but l-... Like that."

Duke has made himself uncomfortable, stumbling over his words. He moves on abruptly. "Anyways. Are we gonna get a move on already? I could really use that damn coffee this morning."

You're going to let him play by his own rules today. It's obvious Duke already wants to say he loves you, but won't let himself until he knows you better. He's worried the hammer is going to drop and ruin it. Which is fair. He's already told you in a roundabout way that it feels like you're too good to be true. You'll tell him the truth about anything he wants to know.

You quickly gather your stuff, and make your way downstairs and to the car together.

Duke doesn't wait to get to the cafe before starting with the questions.

He asks you about your favorite things, starting with music.

Normally, being put on the spot with questions like that would be difficult, but you don't feel like you'd be putting a target on your back laying it all out for Duke. You start out with the music you think he might be familiar with, then move on to stuff that's a little more obscure, before going into detail about what you're really most passionate about. Thankfully, he stays interested the whole time, asking follow up questions.

Then he moves on to food. Ugh, that's always a tough one, so you just answer with an anecdote about a meal you made a few weeks ago that turned out really well, and mention a couple restaurants you enjoy.

You pull into the cafe, it's a place called Inspire. They have pretty good coffee and a really nice bakery, but it usually isn't worth the price, and their breakfast sandwiches are obviously an afterthought.

As you get inside, you wonder if Duke's going to order something extravagant, but he doesn't, going with a plain hot latte and a blueberry muffin. You remind him he can get anything he wants, but he insists that's all he wants.
You order your typical cappuccino and two bagels with cream cheese and strawberry jam, planning to offer one to Duke.

While you wait for your order to be prepared, it looks like Duke is worrying himself, trying to manage how the other patrons think of the two of you. He's sticking close, but not too close. His eyes are darting, around looking for any sign that you're being judged. He refuses to make eye contact for more than a fraction of a second. You can tell he's really nervous. You find it cute, given his history. All that confidence he's built up went away as soon as the rules changed a little bit. You think you might have to retreat to the car to let him settle down. As soon as you have your drinks, Duke hurries over to an open table and takes a seat, it makes him a little more comfortable.

He quickly breaks a piece off of his muffin, stuffs it into his mouth, and immediately starts asking more questions as he chews. "So, uh, is there anything especially cool about working for The Bond?"

That's actually an interesting question. "Sure there is. I'm really lucky to do what I do. I meet all kinds of different people, sometimes just stepping into their everyday lives for a few moments, sometimes, I'm getting a really personal look at things they usually keep to themselves, and sometimes, I'm the only one there for them after things go really wrong. And other times, I get to be their voice. Struggles, triumphs. Suffering, healing. Things people want to get off their chests, but can't admit on their own, and things they want to shout from the rooftops. I get to be there for all of that, right on the interface where humans and anthros meet, which is much less of a hard border these days, but there's still some friction, or some things the average Joe doesn't even think about."

You bring up some of your previous work. "You might have seen the piece I did on the unique impacts of disability on anthros and how that affects their places in society, especially when they have to rely on humans and other anthros to accommodate them properly. A lot of what works well for humans just isn't applicable to certain species of anthros in the same situation. And a lot of the time, not enough gets done unless we advocate for them."

"Huh, I thought you mostly wrote about steamy stuff." Duke interjects.
"I do tend to be the one who ends up touching on intimate topics." You concede. "I won't pretend like I'm not. But I also do a lot of 'respectable' journalism too, but a lot of that isn't as fun, and I hate to say it, it just doesn't drive the same engagement. There's a reason I got where I am today.

You explain how exactly it happened. "I was actually starting to get characterized as some kind of anthro disability rights activist because I covered that stuff so much. But that just happened to be where a lot of the most compelling stories were. The ones that still involved a mismatch between humans and anthros. Not intentional discrimination as much these days, but blind spots. And just as a natural consequence of that, I came across a guy, a Cheetah, with his human companion and caretaker. See, he'd been hurt pretty bad in a car accident. Lost an arm, had a big chunk of his hip written off, he could barely walk. But that's not what I ended up writing about. He actually just wanted to put his feelings out there. How it was hard to find people who wouldn't just pity him, people who wouldn't treat him as fragile and untouchable. People who could actually see him through the morbidity of it all."

You move on to the relevant part. "He talked about how much of a nightmare dating was for him. He'd have guys interested in him, when he posted pictures online, or once, while he was sitting down and had a jacket covering his prosthetic arm, but as soon as they knew the deal, the other guy made an excuse and ran off, or was just outright rude. I ended up hearing all kinds of unflattering personal details, like how our cheetah friend got so frustrated at one point, he begged one of his friends to just do him a favor and help him blow off the tension in a moment of weakness, that they both agreed was awkward and unsatisfying in the end."

"Yeah, I bet it was." Duke chimes in.

You conclude the anecdote. "That didn't make it into the article, but everything he shared with me about his current relationship did. Absolutely everything they had to do to make it work without hurting the cheetah, nothing left to the imagination. It was a hit pretty quickly. My editor saw the value in it immediately, and I think it made something click for my boss. Before, we were committed to glossing over the intimate aspects of relationships in favor of the romantic ones, and we didn't cover the gay side of the familiarist community as often as we should have. But that's where the real gold mine was. That's where the discrimination still lies, and that's what the audience really wants to see. The adjective barely applies to straight human-anthro couples anymore. They're not invested in what we do anymore, they're mainstream now. But when you look at the gay men, there's a wide open frontier there. I'm sure you know that. That's why The Cy is a gay bar now."

Duke suddenly realizes something. "Oh, It's just business? I wondered why Danny decided to change it up. Man's straight as an arrow. I thought I was just getting a bad read, or he was just that good at keeping his work and play separate."

Duke finally decides to take a sip of his coffee. "Oh damn. You were right. This is pretty good."

Duke thinks of another question to ask. "Oh, uh, something y'might be able to answer easier. Y'said your parents moved, right? Z'at 'cause you went on vacation down there a lot?"

You're surprised he kept that little detail in his head through everything. Maybe he'd make a good journalist himself, in a different life. "Yeah, I did say that. I can't believe you remembered. And you pretty much nailed it. My parents had a timeshare and we went on vacation every year while I was growing up. They got themselves out of it by the time I went off to college, and once I had a stable enough job to afford the house, they decided they might as well give me an advantage and make the move for the sake of their health. I know a lot of people whose parents could have done something similar, but they just didn't, either because they were prioritizing themselves, or because of some old notion of austerity. I got lucky."

Duke probes further. "You keep in contact? That's pretty far away."

You're on great terms with your parents. "I talk to them on the phone all the time. And if I have a reason to be anywhere close, I'll always take the chance to see them in person for a little bit. That doesn't happen that often, but it's nice when it does. Every few years, they'll come back here for the holidays, to see the rest of the family, too."

Duke leans back in his seat, and looks up at the ceiling,. "A'course. I should'a expected something like that. No wonder y'turned out the way y'did." He takes a deep breath and sniffs a couple times. Does he have allergies or something? You haven't noticed that until now.

"Aw. T'Hell with it! Y'got any deep, dark secrets a'your own to tell me about? There's no way y'could really be this clean."

"Nope" You admit, to his obvious disappointment. "At least not until last week, for obvious reasons. I'm as boring as I seem. It has its downsides, I was pretty unfulfilled outside of work. And it really hasn't been great for my dating prospects. I'm not the most extroverted or fun person to be around, which loses interest fast. I guess if there's any wrinkle to me, it's that I don't have any serious hobbies or interests outside of my work. I'm already doing what I love, and I'm too settled, maybe too shy, to find new things to also be passionate about. If anything, I'd say I'm... I've been pretty lonely, for years, really. But until recently, it didn't get to me, most days."

Duke perks up at that, for some reason. "Heh heh! There it is! I knew y'didn't just happen to wander in and 'find' me." Duke struggles to avoid making a scene, restraining his laughter with much effort. He gets ahold of himself eventually. "Okay, who was it? Who sent'cha my way? I bet it was Dean, wasn't it? I knew he'd end up tipping off someone he wasn't supposed'ta. I'm just glad it was you, and not someone who'd tear the whole house'a cards down instead."

Dean? That must be one of his clients. "What? No! No one 'recommended' you, Duke. I told you the truth. I just wanted to get out of the rain for a few minutes, and it snowballed from there, I promise. I just didn't realize how lonely I was because I'd been living it so long. Spending time with you showed me I had been missing something all along. I didn't realize it until then. I nearly went crazy this past week, being left alone with all my thoughts and feelings."

"Oh, uh, oops." Duke is clearly embarrassed by his spontaneous jump to the wrong conclusion. "Sorry, sorry. I just- I uh- got... excited? This whole time, I haven't been able to get the thought outta my head. There has to be a catch, there has to be some kinda trick."

"Sometimes, good things really do just happen, Duke." You remind him. "If bad things can happen to us for no good reason, so can good things. We can't forget that, can we? Well, I can't blame you for forgetting. The deck's been stacked against you so far, hasn't it? But when you choose to start a new game, the deck gets shuffled all over again. And maybe- Maybe the dealer's on your side this time?"

That metaphor just came to you as you said it. You realize some of it applies to you as well. "I'd probably do well to take that to heart myself."

You've been eating your sandwich and drinking your coffee the whole time, but you've managed to forget the second sandwich you ordered until now. "Oh, right. I ordered this one for you, Duke. If you want it."

"Nah, thank you, though." Duke declines politely. "Save it, maybe I'll want it later. But for now. I'm done. ...And I think I've heard what I needed to outta ya. I just have one last bit'a personal business to attend to, and I'm probably gonna need some moral support for it. What time is it, anyways?"

You check your phone for him. "10:23, why?"

Duke doesn't answer you, simply saying "Yep, he'll be on." under his breath. You think you heard some dread or fear in it, too. "Let's get outta here, Anon. It's time for me to know what the rest'a my life's gonna look like."

You're not exactly sure what he means by that, but he's ready to go, so you don't ask for clarification until you're back on the road. "What did that mean back there? 'What the rest of your life's going to look like?' And who's going to be on what, exactly, Duke?"

"Shit, I figured you'd be able to guess." Duke bemoans your reluctance to presume.

With that permission to make a guess given, you test the answer your intuition has lead you to. "It's about your family, right? Your grandfather? Did I really turn you around that fast, Duke?"

With a clear tinge of anxiety in his voice, Duke affirms your conclusion. "Yeah. It's been years since I've had any contact with my family. Pap included. I know they're all doin' just fine, I've taken peeks now'n'then on Facebook. But the last time I knew what they really thought'a me was when they sent that package'a my stuff to the PO Box. It wasn't long after that I couldn't afford to keep it open, so the last thing they got was me askin' them not to send anything to it anymore. And in that last letter I got, the one that came with the 'care package,' the anger wasn't gone."

Duke elaborates on the content of the letter. "Just a whole page of my mom's perfect, beautiful handwritin', laying out just how disappointed they were in me. 'How could you make us worry like this?' 'You've ruined your future' 'You'll have to live with the consequences of your actions' A whole page, back an' front, a'that. I couldn't get through it all. It was too much."

He didn't read it all? "How do you know it was all angry? Maybe they were just venting at first, or trying to use their authority to convince you to come home?"

"Y'know-" Duke chokes back his emotions with a gasp. "It was just criticism right outta the gate, man. No 'We love you and we miss you, and we understand how hard it was for you to go through all'a that shit, Duke. Please come home. We'll fight like Hell to protect you, if y'do."

Duke raises his voice, maybe he's been choosing not to think about this for a long time. "How'm I s'posed to sit through all'a'at torture! I know I fucked up! Jesus Christ! I didn't choose this! For the love'a God, just fucking show y'care! Aagh!"

He quiets down again, ashamed of himself for losing control like that, but you can still detect the venom in his words. "A'course I didn't fuckin' read the rest'a that shit. I threw it the fuck out. Crumpled up, gone. And, a'course, And someday came and I stopped bein' such a stupid kid, I realized I might have made a mistake there. But I don't know that. I don't know if they still blame me. I dunno if they'll harp on me for doing what I had'ta all these years."

Duke begins to spiral anxiously as he lists off all the things he's "And I don't know if I can ever go home. I don't know whether they'll say the pastor turned me into this. I don't know whether they'll be disgusted. and I was runnin' on the fuckin' fumes'a that hope that none'a that shit would be the case. Could'I'a just read the fuckin' thing and known for sure? Yeah. But that could'a been bad. I dunno where I'd be today if I knew for sure they couldn't understand. I didn't wanna know, 'cause not knowing meant there was a chance, and I wouldn't have to face the truth until I was strong enough. That's today. That's fuckin' today."

"Whatever happens, I'll be there for you, Duke." You promise to him. "You'll have a future no matter what. I'll do my best to make sure of that. And if there's pain ahead, I'll be honored to help you weather it. Let's just hope it doesn't come to that. You've had more than your fair share of pain for one lifetime."

You shift away from the negativity. "And if they do want you around, I'll be in your corner for that, too. Whatever that means for you. If you need to see them all as soon as possible, I'll shoot Tim an email and we'll hit the road for Pennsylvania today. He'll understand. If you need to make yourself presentable first, we'll go pick out some nice clothes for you, get you cleaned up. And if you decide you're not quite strong enough for that yet, after all. Or Hell, you decide you want to make a clean break anyway, even though there's nothing in the way, that's fine too."

"Good... Good t'know." Duke's anger and anxiety retreat in the face of your unconditional support and reassuring words. "Thanks, Anon. But we shouldn't get ahead'a ourselves here. We've gotta take it one step at a time. All that wishful thinkin' a'yours might be down the shitter an hour from now."

"Anyways, I'd appreciate a few minutes a'quiet to psyche myself up for this, Anon." You respect Duke's wishes and keep quiet for the rest of the drive. Even when you get home, you leave him to his thoughts as you enter and head up the stairs with him. The silence is only broken when you need to log in to your computer for him.

He knows exactly what he wants to do. Duke's probably gone through this in his head a million times. He generates a temporary email address and uses it to create a Facebook account under his name. Once he's logged in, he searches for an "Arthur Claypoole," doesn't find who he's looking for, and switches to "Art Claypoole," which leads him to his grandfather after a little bit of skimming through the options. Art's profile picture reveals which side of the family Duke's crooked whiskers came from.

Duke sends a friend request, which is approved almost immediately, and it's followed up with a direct message almost as quickly. "is the urban ledgend going around the school again"
Before Duke can respond, there's another message from Art. "im sorry but this isnt funny were real people u know"
Would it kill him to use at least a little bit of punctuation?

"It's really me, Pap." Duke sends back. "It's been way too long. I don't even know how things went down back home after I ran off on you."
"really" Comes the reply from Art.

He's having trouble believing it. But Duke was prepared for that. "Really, and I can prove it. Do you still make that stupid 'Bravo Juliet' joke whenever you get the chance?"

After about fifteen tense seconds with no activity, Art finally replies again. "u still remember that? i never should of said shit like that around u kid its good to see u"

"i got alot to say bud" Art continues. "weve missed u every day and weve been scared u were gone for good me and maryann have been praying for u every day and its been hard on ur dad to even tho he doesnt show it"

Okay, the grammar's starting to be a problem. "Duke, can you ask him to make it a little easier to read?"

"Pap's not an idiot, he just can't type and never bothered to learn. It gets on my nerves too." Duke explains. "I'll see what I can do."

"I've got a friend here, Pap. He's reading along. Can you try a little harder so he can follow better?" Duke pleads.

"sure. is this better duke? how are you doing." While it's not perfect, Art's made enough of an improvement that it won't make you rip your hair out.

"That'll work." Duke moves on to the topic at hand. "To tell you the truth, Pap. Life's been hard for me. I've had to do a lot of things I'm not proud of. But I've finally found someone to help me. And it's better late than never, right?"

"thats good to hear." Art interjects, clearly before reading the rest of Duke's message. "ops no it isnt sorry. but im glad ur ok now. why havent u reached out befor?"

"I didn't know what was waiting for me. I didn't know how you guys or the rest of town felt about what happened with the church." Duke explains his apprehension. "that pastors a damn snake bud. it wasnt ur fault u didnt know better. u arent like him and we all knew that. if anyone else didnt believe it fuck them."

"u didn't need to go anywhere duke. we would of done everything for u" Art assures him.

Duke gets to the part he's been dreading the most. "Would you have accepted me for who I am? I was already gay before Mike took advantage of it."

Thankfully, Art is at least close to reasonable. "hell yes buddy. i dont know how it works and i never will but ur my grandson and that wont change. we will always love u. I might bitch a lil if u brought home some fggy guy and id be pissed if u went and got urself sick but thats it. just looking out for u. i think maryann figured it out 1st. she had her theory."

Duke inhales sharply, knowing he'll have to test that notion when he admits how he's survived all this time. He decides to get it out of the way now. "I'm glad to know that, Pap. But on that same note, I'm sorry to tell you, you won't be proud of what I've been up to. I've been as careful about my health as I could be, I'm in good health. But I made one bad decision and it stuck me with a really rough debt, and ever since then I've been just barely scraping by, making my money the wrong way. There wasn't much else I could do. I didn't have credentials or skills, and I didn't even have the time or money to even try to fix that. I think there's a good chance it's over now, though."

Art doesn't respond again for a few minutes, and you can tell Duke thinks it's over.

But just before your patience runs out, Art returns. "im so sorry duke. none of this bs would of happened if i trusted my gut and didnt let you fuck around with that church. i got ur parents here on the phone and we're ready to help u out as much as we can so u can put that awful stuff behind u. how much debt do u have?"

Duke is shocked at how quickly and unconditionally his family has moved to help him. "You don't need to send me any more money than you already have. I've been pulling out and setting aside the money I've been getting from you guys the whole time. I was planning on returning it, but it looks like you won't accept that."

He's been receiving money? That's right. He did tell you that back in the diner. You forgot about it because it got glossed over, he was treating it as charity and it was a non-factor.

"Just how much cash have you had tucked away this whole time, Duke?" You inquire, retroactively frustrated at his trademark stubbornness.

"About fourteen and a half grand." Duke volunteers, like it's nothing. "That's how you know how much the charity think was killing me. I could'a put that on the debt and paid down the rest in a month, maybe a month and a half. No fuckin' common sense here. But you can't say I don't embody my principles."

As committed as you were to bailing Duke out all on your own if you had to, you can't say you're not relieved to remember there's an easier way. You weren't sure how you were going to make the budget work, but you were sure as Hell going to make it work somehow.

Art asks the obvious question. "why didnt u pay ur debt down. u got that money for a reason bud. we were looking out for u."

Duke takes a few minutes to find the right words to explain himself, with several false starts along the way. "I did it to myself-" No. "I made a really dumb mistake at 18-" Erased.

But, he finally settles on something he can live with. "I went all in on a bad idea, Pap. I just turned 19 at the time, and I was still working a normal job back then. But I didn't have anywhere to live anymore, and even if I did, I wouldn't have been able to get to that job. I made the second worst decision of my life, and I took out a loan for a car I could only just barely afford. Then, a whole bunch of thing happened and the car was out of the picture, but I still had the debt. I couldn't get to work, and I had over $700 a month to pay just to stay afloat. I was lucky I had any way to pull it off at all. Unpleasant as it was."

He's flipping the order of events and leaving out details to spare his image a little bit. You can't blame him for that.

"I had this dipshit notion in my head." He continues. "That if I took charity or didn't solve my problems myself, I was letting Mike Byford win. That I'd be letting his methods solve a problem he ultimately created. I lived taking that as fact for almost half my life. I needed someone to snap me out of it, and he only came along about a week ago. It's been a crash course on getting my head out of my ass these last couple days."

Art doesn't like the way Duke put it. "that dont sound good buddy. that aint how it should work. whats he making u do for him. is he a friend or a FRIEND?"

Duke attempts to address his grandfather's concerns. "He's trustworthy, Pap. He's a writer for a local paper. I met him when he was looking for a story, and we got along real quick. He's been nothing but good to me. Been exactly the right shoulder to cry on. I like him a lot."

"come on kid." Art's not done worrying yet. In fact, if his typing is anything to go by, it's getting worse. "think about it. whatif hes lying to u u already had that happen to u 1 time alredy dont let it happen again. cuz if i hear about it im going to have to protect u even if u dont want me to."

This is bad. It's going off the rails. Duke's starting to panic. "Shit. I thought somethin' like this could happen. What the fuck should I say to him?"

"I don't know. Tell him the truth?" You suggest. "I wanted to help you without getting anything in return."

Duke tries to defuse the situation. "Calm down. Please. It's not the same this time, Pap. I promise. He had plenty of chances to get whatever he wanted out of me. But he didn't. I almost had to beg to get him to play by my stupid rules. He really did just want to talk, then he only wanted to help me out of this. Then one thing lead to another and now we're here. It's all okay."

"duke quit that shit" Art refuses to relent. "hes reading this right. i dont like that. dont trust it. heres the deal. were going to talk on the phone. dont let him hear shit. if he wont let u do that u get the hell out of there and dont look back. no excuses."

Duke turns to you, the fear and anxiety are practically being projected out of his eyes. He doesn't even have to say anything. You hand him your phone, step out of the office, close the door behind you, and consign yourself to wait downstairs.

You consider trying to listen in. There was a pipe or conduit that used to run between the ground floor closet and the closet in your office, but for as long as you've lived here, there's only been a small hole there. You used to use it to listen in on your parents while they were downstairs, you're pretty sure it would work the other way around, too.

But, that would be wrong, wouldn't it? That's exactly the kind of thing the guy Art's afraid you might be would do.
You'd rather let Duke keep the spirit of the agreement.
You also don't want an errant sound or voice from the TV to spook Art, and Duke has your phone. It looks like you're stuck waiting in silence.

All you really have to occupy yourself with, is figuring out your possible plans of action, depending on whether Duke can convince his grandfather or not.

Maybe it'll all just work out. Maybe Art'll get it when the words come out of Duke's mouth instead of from a screen. That would be nice. But judging by the way things have gone so far, you can't count on that.
Maybe all it'll take is some proof you are who you say you are. That's easy enough. But then again, given the typical subject matters of your body of work, who knows whether he'll take it as a red flag or not. Maybe your "Anonymous" brand is a liability, not an asset today.

What if he wants to see Duke in person? Without you. All you could really do is buy him a plane ticket and send him on his way. Booking a return flight would be suspicious. And to make it worse. You got the impression Duke was counting on you for moral support if he were to visit home. That might not be good. Who knows if he'd ever make it back here?

And worst of all, what if there's no way to patch things up? What if Duke can't let go and it tortures him? What if it gets to him, and he can't go on? What if he just decides to give up, despite your best efforts? With what Duke's confided in you about his mental state before, you can't rule that out.

You can't dwell on that. And you have just as much cause to believe that he'd never hit such a low point, no matter how hard things got.

All you've managed to do is make yourself worry even more. You try to force the dread out of your mind, or focus on any of the other possibilities, anything to just put aside your worst fears. You sit in intolerable silence for what feels like forever. Eventually, you resort to scanning around the room, desperate to find something in this house you had somehow missed, or at least hadn't thought about in a long time, to fill the space.

With the benefit of the midday sun at just the right angle, you notice that while the stains are gone, the slightest hint that they were there remains in the carpet. The slightest, most subtle discoloration persists.
No matter what lies ahead, smooth sailing or grief, you've already been changed by your time with Duke. You had stagnated for a long time, but whatever comes next, you're a more complete man before you face it.

It's amazing what a small change and some effort to get out of your comfort zone can do. Knowing what it's like to care for someone, not because they're family, or because you like what they do, or that they represent some utility to you that you can't go without. It's a feeling you didn't even know existed a week ago. The concept, you understood. But the feeling itself? You figured it wasn't unique. You were wrong. It hurts to be stuck waiting while Duke faces a pivotal moment in his life without backup. All you can do is hope it goes well, and if it doesn't, you'll help Duke pick up the pieces.

After another few minutes of waiting, Duke finally shouts from the top of the stairs. "Well, it's not the end'a the world! At least, not today anyway!"

You practically scramble to the stairs in your urgency to know what happened, even though it looks like your worst fears were misplaced.

As you reach the top of the stairs, you notice the telltale streaks of clumping in the fur below his eyes. And taking a closer look, some of the power and vibrancy has been sapped from the striking ice blue by a subtle reddening.

Duke knows what you'd be asking. "It didn't exactly go smoothly, but there's hope." He directs you into the bedroom rather than the office. "All that bullshit took a lot outta me. I'm gonna have to recharge a little after 'at."

Oh God, is he going to make you wait even longer? You'll tolerate it for h— "After I give you the 'debriefing,' a'course."

Duke sits on the bed, and you join him, putting an arm around him as a show of support.

"It was rough." Duke establishes the situation. "Pap... He's not angry. Thank God. But he is scared absolutely shitless. I think he said some things he didn't really mean, just hoping they'd 'snap me out' of some kinda Stockholm Syndrome, or maybe he was just letting his instincts take over."

He centers himself mentally for a moment, and explains exactly what went down. "He starts out talkin' to me like it's some kinda hostage situation. Tellin' me what I need to do. I keep insisting it ain't like that, and I try to explain. But he keeps talking over me, just won't listen."

Duke sighs in exasperation. "I had to beg him to just let me get my side of the story across. He wasn't having it, his mind was already made up."

"He seemed pretty reasonable at first, on your side, even." You remark "What changed?"

"I dunno for sure." Duke speculates on the matter regardless. "Guess what I said put up too many red flags, it looked like I was being taken advantage of again. Can y'blame him for thinking that? After what I been through? He's just tryin' to do what he thinks is best for me."

Duke fights to keep his emotions from flaring back up. "I just wish he didn't feel the need to shout a bunch'a horrible shit about you down the line at me. I get it, he don't know who you really are, but he really fuckin' did just heap everything on. Called ya every name he could think'a. 'faggot, predator.' 'prolly a pedophile.' 'He's prolly got a million diseases y'cant pronounce' I don't think he thought any'a that bullshit was true. I think he just said all'a'at because he thought it would wake me up somehow."

Okay, Duke might be deluding himself a little bit here. Art might just not be as open minded as he thought.

But he continues, anticipating that you'd come to that conclusion. "That ain't how he usually is. He's only like this when he's scared. And he don't get scared often. I think I've only seen him like this twice before. One was so long ago, I can't remember what it was over. And the other... The other was 'cause my friend and I were dickin' around with somethin' I shouldn't'a been. I almost got myself killed. I didn't hear the end'a that for days. ...When shit goes far enough off the rails and Pap can't put it back into his preferred little boxes, that's when he just loses it. Knowin' him, he'll be regretting it in a couple'a days, once he's had a chance to calm down and think about it."

You defer to Duke's judgement, as much as it seems like he's caught up in wishful thinking. "You're his grandson, I can only take your word for it."

"Anyways." Duke gets to the actual result. "He wants to see us in person. Maybe it's just to give me a 'way out,' But I think we can salvage this. They're still doin' the extended family 'spring picnic' thing we always did. That's next month. Pap wants us to be there so he can get a sense for you, and see how I'm doin'. As long as we make a good impression, I think he'll be happy."

You're still concerned it might end up being a mess, and leave him hurting more than ever, but where you'd have just said 'fuck it, it's not worth stirring that hornet's nest' before, you're willing to take the risk. It won't be the end of the world either way, right?

As for making a good impression, you don't know exactly what Art and the rest of Duke's family are looking for. "So, what are we going to have to do to put your Pap's mind at ease, Duke? How do we earn his trust?"

Duke takes a moment to think about it and comes up with some things he thinks might be necessary. "Well, it'd probably help if I showed up wearing 'normal guy' clothes. It hasn't been my thing for a long time now, but hey, I might as well 'practice what I preach,' right?"

You wouldn't say no to seeing Duke in a nice shirt and tie with slacks. Almost anything would look good on him. "That sounds good to me. Maybe you'll be needing a full wardrobe of that stuff someday, too."

Duke scoffs at that suggestion. "How the Hell's a 27 year old used napkin like me supposed to get an office job? 'Specially when he don't even have a fuckin' GED?"

The Bond's always been willing to hire 'in the family,' "As far as I know, the budget's pretty tight, but the top brass at The Bond always like to put their money where their mouths are. A surprising number of the staff at The Bond are humans and anthros in relationships, most of them are married, but that's not a requirement. And, I think only a couple of them actually met there. My editor Miranda apparently jumped ship from her old tabloid job when the guy before her retired. She was first in line for the interview because her husband was already working in IT."
%%%
"What's that have'ta do with me?" Duke asks.

"Maybe we can figure something out for you." You offer. "I've passed on the chance to get extra perks a few times. I didn't really think they'd do me much good. So I've got some accumulated goodwill, so to speak. Maybe I could negotiate myself an assistant to take my calls and schedule my appointments for me."
"Maybe we'll pick you up a blazer and a skirt too." you add, jokingly.

"What? Me, dress like a secretary? Hell naw." Duke stands by his sensibilities, then has second thoughts. "Ehh... Maybe. For your eyes only, though. It's just, I ain't no exhibitionist, I'm sure you can guess why."

It seems like he's not interested. "So that's a no on the job idea, then?"

Duke praises your suggestion. "No. That's a pretty good idea if y'can swing it. I'd be up for that, just to make the gap in my employment history look less fucked."
He processes his feelings about it for a second and reconsiders. "...But, maybe I'd just like it so much, I wouldn't want t'go anywhere else? It sounds like a pretty easy job. And a good boss is worth his fuckin' weight in gold. And it'd be nice to get to spend all our time together, I think. Aw, fuck. I talked myself into it. Didn't I?"

You don't want him committing to it already. You don't even know for sure if it's an option yet. "We'll worry about that when we come to it, Duke. I'll talk to Tim about it tomorrow, along with a lot of other stuff, now that I think about it. Go ahead and relax already. I'll be here for you."

Duke flops back on the bed without hesitation, and doesn't even bother to cover himself or take off the shirt and pants. There's an opportunity here to reciprocate the simple intimacy he gave you last time, so you take it. You're not as experienced, so it takes some effort, but you manage to wrap yourself around him in a way that's comfortable for you both. And once you're done adjusting, you notice a smile creeping across Duke's face. "Y'know what? I'm just gonna fuckin' say it. I- I... I love you, Anon. And I really hope it lasts."

You stay with Duke for a while, indulging in the softness of his fur and the comfort of squeezing him as close to you as possible. You absolutely won't turn down the sex, that's been great so far. But there's something special about this simpler, more emotional kind of intimacy that's lacking in matters of pure passion. Having them together feels like you've solved some deep mystery of life you didn't even know was there until all the pieces happened to fall into place. For the first time in a long time, you feel like the whole world's out in front of you, not just the narrow path you've carved for yourself.

It feels like you've learned to see a whole new color you've been ignorant of your whole life. Sure, you've heard other people talking about it, and you've seen it painted, projected and displayed a million different way a million different times, but just like crimson might as well just be red, lime might as well just be green, and lavender might as well just be purple, you thought this color called "love" was just a word for a specific shade of "like," just a tint lighter.

It's not. Love is orange to Like's red. You can't have one without the other, and yet, they're indisputably different. You can't say where one ends and the other begins for sure, no one can. But you know it when you see it, now that you finally can.

You hear Duke snoring gently next to you. You take the opportunity to get up and let him rest, you've been struck by inspiration and there's no sense in letting it pass. You cover him as best as his awkward position will allow, and make your way to the office to get to work.

So. What exactly is the plan here? How closely does 'Baron's' story follow Duke's? How open about this should you be with your coworkers? It rarely ever does you good to get caught up in second and third guessing yourself. For years, you've had a habit of getting inside your own head so badly that you've needed Tim and Miranda to climb in and get you untangled from the gears. Maybe it's time you started trusting yourself more.

Baron, our down-on-his luck friend on the fringes of society, has made leaps and bounds of progress since we last visited him. The Snow Leopard has done a lot of soul searching in that time, spurred on by the catharsis of getting to vent his woes, and reinvigorated with enthusiasm for life by the outpouring of support from readers of this very publication. He's very grateful, and so are we.

He has shared much with us about his past, but to go into detail about any episodes or fragments in particular risks exposing his identity, and with it, the venue which has offered him ample hospitality in these worst years of his life. He feels no pride in his work and has no interest in cloaking it with euphemisms or validating it as a way of life. To him, prostitution is an albatross around his neck, and he will not concur to its accumulating reputation as some tool of sexual liberation or the natural order of the world to which we ought to return. Surprisingly, despite his background, he's quite sharp and well spoken. He insists that what he does saps his soul.

Baron was essentially left with no choice but to take up the life he finds himself in today. His circumstances forced him to drop out of high school and cut him off from any and all support. He was on his own with nothing to offer the world but himself. He believes that what he's done is tragically unfortunate. That "To make this stuff normal and to stop stigmatizing it would flip the whole script. Sex is supposed to be a culmination of emotions, not a resource. It shouldn't be something you seek out for its own sake. I've always hated putting a number on it, but it's been a long time since I had a choice."

But, he doesn't pass judgment on others who have different feelings on plying the same trade. "I get that others might feel really empowered. There was a time I felt the same way. But in the fullness of time, I've only come out of it feeling more alone than ever. People have hurt me. I've been battered, taken advantage of. But I don't think I'd be happy if this was just a fact of life, either, what does that mean for everyone else? It feels like it would make it harder for people to have healthy relationships when there's no taboo against taking a shortcut. Sure, Putting the law on the side of people like me would have spared me some of that hardship, but not all of it, and I strongly doubt it would have spared me the worst of it anyway."

Baron requested that this statement be included, and special attention be drawn to it. "In fact, the law was already on my side once. I was beaten and sexually assaulted above and beyond anything else I've experienced. I got away, bruised and bleeding, and the guy did end up getting arrested and convicted. But did that really do me any good? It didn't set right all that pain and suffering. And the same thing could just as easily have happened if what I did was legal. I was pretty much kidnapped. You'd have to be pretty naive to think that guy wouldn't have tried the same thing just because the first step wasn't a crime in and of itself. Sometimes bad people are just bad people."

There's good news, however. Having seen that the world doesn't consider him a lost cause just yet, and having gained a new perspective and a new burst of self esteem from laying out everything he's been through has pulled Baron out of what he described as a "self-defeating funk." Just in the last week, he's been much more willing to network and receptive to help from others. Some trusted members of the community reached out to The Bond, several organizations dedicated to helping anthros out of poverty, and even some of our own employees have decided to offer support and we gladly got them all in touch with Baron. With his consent, of course. Both he and our partners are optimistic his life will be turning around before too long.

We have great hope that a life that has been marked by sometimes egregious mistreatment will get the chance to flourish. We would all be extremely proud to see Baron go from barely surviving, in his own words, "limping from one indignity to another" to getting the chance to put it all behind him and start fresh.

You feel like that establishes an appealing and noble character for Baron, touches on real emotional aspects, and adds a little more separation from Duke, too. It also leaves it open for a follow up in six months or a year. You're pretty happy with what you've written.

With your primary focus settled for the time being, you decide to send an email to let Tim and Miranda know what they should expect tomorrow so you don't have to explain it all from the start. Most importantly, to completely remove any concerns over ethics or bias, you make it clear you want to be treating this as a fictional exploration of the concept, directly inspired by stories taken from real people, and it should be declared as such.

And... That's just about everything you absolutely have to do today. You don't want to go anywhere or run any errands while Duke's asleep, in case he wakes up while you're gone. You're sure he'd understand, but still, maybe he'll have more on his mind, or something he'd like to do. You'd rather be here than leave him hanging, for now, at least.

You notice the Facebook tab from earlier is still open, and Duke's account is still logged in. You might as well take a look and see what you can learn about Art Claypool and the rest of Duke's family from it. It's all information Art decided to share freely anyway.

You find that Art made it pretty far in the Air Force, and that Duke has probably undersold his achievements. Art's profile shows that he's a retired Lieutenant Colonel. Desert Storm, Enduring Freedom. Serious stuff. He's clearly very proud of it, and it's no wonder he wanted Duke to follow in his footsteps. Judging by what Duke's already told you, he wasn't interested, but put himself on track to at least honor his grandfather's love of aviation.
Other than that, you see typical boomer fare. Overly verbose image macros about politics, Off color jokes that have been reposted a million times, and some cheesy moral affirmations and "nuggets of wisdom," too.

But between that noise, you do find some meaningful information. Art doesn't seem to have hesitated to share it when Duke was in his thoughts. And often, it appears, Duke was sharing that space with Art's late wife, Jeanette. You wonder if Art might have assumed the worst about Duke.

In addition to that, you notice that there are also plenty of photos of things he's done and places he's gone with Duke's parents. Robert and Maryann Bouchet. It looks like they get along well. No in-law trouble there. But maybe it's a good thing Duke didn't snoop around for a while before sending the message. Going by what's here, you'd almost think they've all moved on with their lives. And maybe they had, as much as it's possible to. For Duke, it wouldn't have been the most heartening thing to see.

All in all, Duke's family seem like great people. So you're confident that this rough patch is an exception rather than the rule. It's good that they care so much.

You hear the water running in the bathroom behind you. Duke's awake. And before long, he's at the office door. "Hey. I didn't make things awkward, did I? It just felt... Like the right thing to say."

You were happy to hear it. He should know that. "You aren't regretting it now, are you? A little too rash? It felt good to hear it out of you, Duke. Even if you don't feel comfortable saying it yet."

"To be honest. "Duke begins to confide in you, the change in his posture suggesting a sense of shame. "That's the weird part. I don't think I am. Ain't that fucked up? I talk to ya for fifteen minutes, and I start feelin' weird. I see'ya again the next night and I'm already excited. Y'show me a little bit'a kindness, gimme a shoulder to cry on, and I'm ready to throw a bunch'a my silly little rules right out the window for you. All'a that shit can be chalked up t'you bein' a real change'a pace for me. If that was all there was to it, I'd just say you're a real gentleman, and exactly my type, for once."

Duke closes the distance, now halfway between you and the door. "And I did, for a while. I was lookin' forward to seein' ya again, I figured it would do me some kinda good. And maybe I could convince you to take another step. I was worried you'd just always pick somethin' small. Never get to the good stuff. I wanted more outta you. Some pretty detailed fantasies were on my mind this week, I'll tell ya that. Nothin' you'd want to hear, I don't think. They ain't 'you,' but I didn't know that at the time."

Duke realizes he's digressed a little bit at this point "To the fuckin' point. Y'didn't blink at paying extra. Y'set up a real date, home cooked meal and everything. And on top of that, you played fuckin' therapist for me. Made me get everything off my chest. I think that would'a changed my damn life on its own. Then you just pile on one thing after another. The sex, a'course. But more than that, y'keep provin' it over and over that you're exactly who y'say you are."

Duke grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you and the chair you're sitting in right to him. He bends down and looks you in the eyes. "You're a God-given miracle, Anon. A saint. Who the Hell would be in my position, wear my whiskers for a while..."

He suddenly kisses you, but unlike before, there's no passion or sexual energy behind this one. This is a symbol, not a proposition. "...And come outta it not knowing if they love ya or not? There's no rule that says y'gotta go 'this long' before y'say it. It's just that most'a the time, You can't really know, not that quick. But we put everything out on the table. Everything we need is there, ain't it?"

You weren't expecting another outpouring of emotion from Duke so soon. You stand up and hug him tightly. "You don't need to convince me of anything. I feel it too. We can't be concerned with 'What if this wears off, and we feel foolish later?' What if it doesn't? What if we look back at how shy we were about it someday and we laugh?"

You encourage him not to take it so deadly serious. "Either way, it's not the end of the world. Either way, it's how we really felt at this moment. It's not like we're blackout drunk in Las Vegas getting ourselves into an ill-advised marriage on a whim. We're clearly more than friends. And I know you put a lot less weight on sex than I do. But I don't think the word 'love' is inappropriate here. I've put my money where my mouth is, for your sake, in both senses. And you... Duke. You've shown me your true colors a lot more than you might realize. I feel like I know you better than plenty of the people I consider friends, and I feel like I know you better than plenty of people in my family. I meant it when I said that before, and I mean that now."

You let him go, but you grab both of his hands and hold them as he steps back. "I love you too, Duke. I can say that confidently. And I think you can be just as confident about it. Can't you?"

You've definitely charmed him. He's a little overwhelmed as an awkward smile forms and he averts his gaze. "Aw, Goddammit. Yeah. You got me."

He didn't say it. "What? You can say it? Why don't you?"

Duke explains his awkwardness. "Well, y'see. I kinda didn't want the one that came off the cuff to count. I don't think I've ever said it to anyone else. Not even 'you know who.' I wanted it to be more of a landmark for us."

"You admitted it in a vulnerable moment when you didn't care enough to stop yourself." You comfort Duke, he didn't waste the opportunity at all. "That's the purest version of you there is. That's a bigger landmark than if you came up with some big announcement for me."

"Okay then... Fuck." Duke musters the courage he needs. "I can't believe I'm saying this for the first time, at twenty-fuckin'-seven, or that it would ever happen in such an ass-backwards order." He clears his throat and takes a deep breath. "I love you, Anon. It feels fuckin' crazy to say it. But I love you. Here's hoping the future's bright. But even if there are a few clouds. I could think of worse people to weather the cloudy days with."

Duke begins to laugh. "Ahaha- I think your sappy ass is already rubbin' off on me. But, God. It felt good to say it."

Duke lets the moment pass, and moves on to a slightly more urgent matter. "Oh yeah. Before I forget. It looks like we do have something else on the agenda today. We've gotta get back to The Cy, before it opens at six. Let them know I'm not gonna be there... And pick up my money. Danny's been keepin' it safe for me. Hopefully he's been keeping a close eye on it."