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Yello, fellows. It seems it's Friday already! This week absolutely flew by. Anyway, Free Association Episode 23 is ready! Continues right on from last week, so go back if you find the beginning confusing. And if you're new, go back to Episode 1! :3

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_ Tuesday. _

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There was a beat before the other two figured it out.

"Oh! Well!" Brad exclaimed, eyelids dropping a bit. "I didn't think that was how creepy vans usually worked, but I suppose - "

"Oh dear lord," Marty groaned, rising to his feet with another nacho in his hoofed pawdigits. "You guys want some beer? Or wine, Brad?"

The wolf glanced to his roommate, and then back to his boyfriend. "You want something, Jonathon?" he asked. "We've got like vodka and stuff too."

The raccoon was suddenly nervous. "Uh, I'm not really old enough..." he mumbled.

"It's just us here, and it's not like we're throwing a party or something," his boyfriend replied. "You can have some if you want. I'll be the responsible adult, since I have to drive you back anyway."

The raccoon smiled a little at his boyfriend's warm, protective expression. "Well... okay. Just a little bit, though."

"Anything you like?"

Jonathon shrugged. "I don't really know too much about alcohol, I've only had beer a couple times. And whiskey once. I didn't like it much, it was so bitter."

"Hmmm..." Brad looked to his roommate. "Do we still have that sangria?"

"Uuuuh..." The boar rifled around in the fridge. "The one with the weird stopper?"

"No, that's the port."

"Oh, the one in the really skinny bottle?"

"No, that's a white."

"Oh, the one in the dark bottle that you spilled Taco Bell on the label?"

Brad facepawed. "No, that's not even wine, that's gin!"

"I can't tell all your fancy alcomohols apart!" the boar wailed, sounding quite put-upon.

"You've had the sangria, you liked it, it's the red one in the clear bottle..." Brad groaned, resting his head in his paw. Jonathon was chuckling, watching the back-and-forth.

"Uuuuhhhh... Oh, this one?" He leaned back, holding out a bottle.

Brad peered at it from across the room. "Yes, that one! Geez."

"It was on the door, I didn't see it!" his roommate protested. "There's a bit left, it's almost gone."

"Great. Pour us two both DD-sized glasses, then, he'll probably like that one. It's sorta like fruit punch," he explained to Jonathon. "Quite nice."

"Okay," the raccoon said agreeably. "You sure have a lot of wine."

"Yeah, cause he never finishes them, he just keeps cracking open new bottles," the boar grumbled. "He's had like six going at once before, and the old ones start to smell weird..."

"Ah, quit whining about my wine and pour it," Brad rumbled, waving a paw at him.

"You're supposed to drink them in like three days, you know."

"Maybe according to wine snobs. I'm also supposed to let them..." he adopted a high-class, faintly british accent. "'breathe', too, and 'age gently in mildly humid air away from noise and vibrations'. Fuck that. Just give me my formerly-bacteria-infested grape juice. It's not like they'll give you food poisoning if you leave them a while, they're alcohol."

"Yeast is a fungus, not a bacteria," Jonathon remarked.

"Whatever. Anyway that sangria hasn't even been open a week, it's fine."

Marty returned with two mostly-empty tumblers and a can of beer, passing the former to the other two, before heading back around to his seat. "That was the last of it, by the way, so you can finish that stupid gin that smells like refried beans next."

"On my list," Brad said dryly, slouching back and taking a sip. After a moment, he looked to the raccoon, who was swilling his drink carefully. "You like it?"

Jonathon nodded a bit, and swallowed. "Yeah, it's not bad. Fruity."

"That's why I like it," Brad chuckled, with a little wink, making his boyfriend grin.

"Not gonna knock me on my ass, is it?"

The wolf chuckled. "Not that much, no. I'm drinking the same amount, and I have to be good to drive, so even if you're a lightweight, you'll be fine."

"Don't you go to parties and stuff, Jonathon?" Marty asked, slurping his beer. "When Brad was your age, I don't think there was a single weekend he wasn't getting smashed with his design student pals and then whining to us about the hangover he had."

Brad rolled his eyes.

"Well, I've gone to a couple..." the raccoon said thoughtfully. "They weren't all that much fun, though. Just people being dumb and flirting and then throwing up on each other."

Marty snorted and laughed quite a bit, and Brad sighed and grinned. "Yup, I suppose that's about right..."

"Besides, keeping my GPA where it is doesn't leave much time for partying, and I already spend most of that time playing video games. Or with this guy." He poked Brad in the arm, and the wolf gave him a smile.

"What's your GPA?"

"3.9-ish."

Marty whistled, Brad grinned. "Yeah, he's more like you than me," he said to the boar. "You never partied much either, in college. Until you got senioritis a semester before you even became a senior."

The boar groaned. "Don't remind me... Explaining that D minus to my dad was the worst experience of my entire life..."

"My parents aren't too pushy about it." Jonathon took another sip. "They're just proud of me and keep telling me to do my best and all. I think they're happy as long as I keep it in the threes."

The other two nodded, and the conversation lapsed into a bit of a lull, while they continued to drink and munch nachos. The green salsa was quite good, Jonathon reflected, considering it had been made by someone who didn't like spicy stuff.

"Did work go okay?" Brad asked his roommate, after a while.

The boar nodded, swallowing his beer quickly. "Yeah, I was dead tired, but I pulled through. Came home and crashed, didn't wake up until about three in the afternoon. It's okay, though, today's a comp day."

"Oh, sweet! I'm so jealous you get those..."

"What's that?" Jonathon inquired.

"His job is crazy and bounces him all around these awful shifts, that's why he's always asleep or at work whenever you're over here," Brad explained. "And when they have to make him... what's the criteria again?" He turned to the boar.

"It's when they make me go backwards, like from night shift to day shift, or after three consecutive days on different shifts with no breaks. They're required by law to give me a shift off and pay me for it. I worked night shift on Monday, running over into Tuesday morning - it's 8:00 pm to 4:00 am - and they needed me on day shift, which is noon to 8, on Wednesday. So, they weren't allowed to schedule me for day shift or night shift today, because I would have had like six hours to sleep either before or after, what with travel time, and of course morning shift was out both days because I'd be working sixteen hours straight. So they have to pay me for eight hours today, and I get to stay home and sleep." He grinned a bit. "They try not to do that, of course, but the shipments come when they come."

"That's weird," Jonathon remarked.

"Yeah, it's kind of an awkward thing, but they just cut our wages until it doesn't make a difference. There's a B team, too, that works evening, graveyard, and business shifts. 4 to midnight, midnight to eight, eight to 4, just offset from us by half a shift. I was on that team for my internships, because they like to keep their interns working the business hours, so that we don't actually realize how awful it is."

Jonathon snorted and finished his wine; Brad had set his glass down a little while before. The wolf slouched even more, and extended an arm to wrap it around Jonathon's shoulders. The raccoon smiled and scooched a bit closer, curling toward his boyfriend slightly. A faint thrumming from the roof and window told them the promised freezing rain had started to fall.

"How'd you meet him again?" Marty asked, after another nacho-munching silence. The other two took a moment to process the remark.

"Tripped him!" Brad remarked proudly, after a little bit.

Jonathon grinned, getting it, then. "No, you didn't, I definitely tripped you..."

"My elbow's still kinda sore, you know..."

"Heheh, so are my knees!"

"Ah yes," the boar said, finishing his beer and rising to grab another. "Mutual physical abuse, the start of any good relationship..."

Brad chuckled and glanced to the procyonid, who poked him in the nose. Brad retaliated with a nose-poke of his own... but using his tongue. Jonathon giggled and rubbed the spit off. "You know how much that tickles?! Argh!" He worked his whiskers around and snuffled a bit.

A moment later, Marty returned, popping his can open. "Are you with anybody, Marty?" Jonathon asked.

The boar shook his head. "Not really the relationship type, myself."

"Yeah, he's more of the manslut type," Brad remarked. Marty stuck a pouty lip out at him, and the wolf waved a paw. "Ah, you, stop that, I'm just teasing. He's not really that bad," he clarified, to Jonathon. "He's just bad at commitment."

"I stop taking people seriously if I spend too long with them," Marty rumbled.

"Yeah, he never takes me seriously," the wolf grumbled.

"Well, I'm not sleeping with you, so it doesn't matter." The boar, grinning, slurped his drink.

Brad yawned lazily in response. Jonathon snagged another nacho. The rain clinked against the windowpane.

"Have you, though?" the raccoon asked.

A beat of silence. Brad glanced over to the boar. Jonathon didn't catch his expression.

Marty swallowed slowly. "No."

Jonathon nodded. He felt a little stupid for asking... but also, faintly defensive. A lurking sense of accusation that had been bothering him the whole night had abruptly flared up.

Was he jealous of his boyfriend's friend? Oh, god, he wasn't that sort of a partner, was he?

"He's not really my type," the boar said, taking a big gulp of beer. "You know, what with the penis and all."

Jonathon nodded, blushing.

Brad just sat there, staring at his knees. Jonathon couldn't read his expression, but the grip of his arm around the raccoon's shoulders had loosened a little.

After a few minutes of no one saying anything or smiling, Jonathon realized this silence wasn't like the others. They'd stopped eating nachos, was the real tell. He'd officially killed the conversation.

Great job, coon. Second time tonight you've fucked something up.

The raccoon sat there, self-conscious and awkward, for a while longer. After a bit, Brad grew a little more snuggly and affectionate, holding him closer and moving his other paw around the front of Jonathon's chest. Then it wasn't quite so bad... though, he still got the feeling that Marty was irritated.

Finally, Brad sighed, and withdrew his arms from his boyfriend. "All right. I have to work tomorrow, so I have to get this guy home."

"Righto." Marty swigged the last of his second beer. "It was nice to meet you, Jonathon." Brad stood up, and the boar offered a paw.

Jonathon shook it. "Yup, you too."

"I'm sure I'll be seeing you around quite a bit in the future, so until next time."

"Yeah." Jonathon stood and went to grab his jacket; he was a little fuzzy from the wine, but not bad, really. "See ya."

Brad already had his own on, and was grabbing his keys, and a hat; Jonathon flipped his hood up. "I'll be back in like a half an hour," the wolf said to the boar, and Marty nodded.

"A moment longer and I'll call 911."

"Yes, mother," Brad grumbled, with a roll of the eyes, and opened the door. Jonathon followed him out. The door shut.

"He doesn't like me," the raccoon groaned.

Brad, who had been about to head down the stairs, blinked and looked back at him in utter surprise. "What? Of course he does!"

"No he doesn't..." Jonathon replied, demoralized and distraught; he began heading down the stairs himself. "I said something dumb and now he thinks I'm a jealous idiot."

"Oh, the thing with the... Listen, Jonathon..." Brad put a paw on his shoulder, stopping him halfway down the stairs. "Look. I know him really well. He likes you just fine, you just... put him off. He's always been kind of awkward with people he doesn't know well, so he copes by acting really cheerful and playful when he's nervous. If he feels like he screwed up, he shuts that down and gets really quiet. He's not mad, or whatever. He does it to me too, sometimes, and we've been best friends for years; he's more comfortable with me than nearly anybody else."

I am not a jealous coon. I am not a jealous coon. I am not...

"So why didn't you do something, then? Back there?"

Brad shrugged. "There was nothing to do. You can't, like, talk him out of it, or something. You just have to wait until he gets over it. And sometimes that takes a while... but then he's totally normal again. Like when he shook your paw."

"I thought he was mad at me..." Jonathon said dubiously, recalling the brusque pawshake.

"He wasn't," Brad replied, and the sheer exasperation in his voice convinced the raccoon somewhat. "Look. I'll ask him what he thought of you later, okay? I guarantee you he likes you fine. I know him." They continued down the stairs toward the door, rounding the corner by the mailboxes.

"Good evening, Bradley," a red-tailed hawk said smoothly.

Brad jumped about a foot in the air, tail and neck bristling with blinding speed. Jonathon thought he even heard the wolf 'eep' a bit. The raccoon was pretty surprised himself.

"G-good evening, Mr. Harwood!" the wolf replied, resettling his voice from the initial squeak it gave. "I... didn't realize you were standing there!"

The hawk smiled coolly and gave a nod. "The mail comes once a day, and I am given to check it." He held up a bundle of envelopes, quite thick.

"Right you are," the wolf said, not remarking on the hawk's strange habit of checking his mail hours and hours after it had been delivered. "Well, have a nice evening..."

"I do not believe I have met your companion," the hawk said, icy blue eyes fixing on Jonathon.

The raccoon froze.

He'd heard once that some species have an innate reaction to other species, echoing the threats present in the natural environments of their feral ancestors. He wasn't sure how true that was, or whether something else might be at work...

...but the mammal, descended from fairly small fluffy things, did not like being stared at by this big bird of prey! No! Sir! Ee!

"Ah, this is my... friend Jonathon," Brad said, with an audible pause.

A faint smile formed on the hawk's beak, more flexible than those of his feral kin, and with different facial musculature. "I see. Pleased to meet you, Jonathon." He gave an odd little bow.

"P-pleased to meet you too!" the raccoon managed.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Mr. Harwood said, stepping past the raccoon (who flinched, but fortunately the hawk didn't notice). "A good evening to you both."

"Evening, Mr. Harwood."

"E-evening!"

Brad pushed open the door and left the building. They stood under the awning, and the door shut.

"Eeek!" Jonathon exclaimed, unable to help himself. "Christ, who is that guy? He's creepy!"

"Mr. Harwood? He's my neighbor," Brad said, grimacing a bit. "He is a bit eccentric, yeah, but he's all right."

"He totally overheard our entire conversation, he was just standing down there listening!"

Brad shrugged. "Not like he could do anything else, we were on the stairs."

"He could have taken the other flight of stairs, in the back! It's not like it's that far away!"

"Maybe he was curious. Eavesdropping isn't illegal, we didn't say anything important anyway." The wolf sounded a little impatient.

"But what if he realizes we're not just friends, what if..."

"What if he does?" the wolf inquired, fixing the other male with a look.

Jonathon couldn't say anything to that look. He tried.

He felt scared and stupid and alone.

Brad just didn't understand that part of him, he realized.

Jonathon didn't understand it himself.

Brad sighed, after a moment. "Come on."

They traipsed toward the car in the icy rain. The sidewalk was slick. Jonathon almost fell. Brad caught him by the paw, and they went a little more slowly, after sharing a significant look.

The drive back was quiet; neither had much to say after the somewhat unsettling end to their evening. The streets were icy, but Brad was careful, and they only slid once, just as they were turning into the dorm's parking lot. Jonathon eeped a bit as the car fishtailed, but Brad nudged the accelerator and pulled out of it like a pro.

"Guess we'll go this way!" he remarked, with a grin, as the car was now rolling the other direction, down the first row of the parking lot. Jonathon chuckled a little.

They drove around to the end and circled back, to park fairly near the dorm's rear entrance.

Not too near, though.

Brad threw it into park, but kept the engine on so they wouldn't get cold. He looked over to the raccoon. "I... hope you had a nice time tonight. Just hangin' out."

Jonathon nodded. He had.

"I... suppose I'll text you tomorrow, maybe we can do something on campus or something."

"Okay."

Brad scratched his head awkwardly. "Now, um... would you mind if we... maybe... kissed a bit?"

The raccoon blinked.

The rain beat on the windshield.

"You have to ask?" the raccoon sputtered, after a moment.

"Well, well..." Brad looked down, suddenly embarrassed. "Well... I mean... after Friday, I wasn't sure if... maybe..."

The raccoon felt a sudden rush of affection and warmth. Brad was just as uncertain as him, about what was happening between them... "Oh, c'mere, you," he rumbled, scooting up against the center console.

Brad pressed close from the other side, and Jonathon placed his paws on the wolf's shoulders. The raccoon pressed his mouth onto the wolf's.

Deeeep inhalation. Sigh.

Brad's tongue tasted like it usually did. Jonathon's muzzle was as narrow and cramped as always. The raccoon's whiskers tangled with the wolf's shorter, slighter ones, and Brad's big, blunt nose rubbed against Jonathon's little, square one.

Their eyes were shut tight.

Paws clung to shoulders and backs; the center console jabbed them both in the ribs. Jonathon was getting a boner. So was Brad. Their tails flicked and swirled behind them; Brad's was still caught in the hole in the rear of the seat. Jonathon's was waving behind him, angled upward.

The occasional break in their oral caresses was brief and filled with the echoing wet sounds of tongues and mouths reorienting. They kissed again, and again. And again. Jonathon's heart sung in his chest, alight with a furious beating thrum. Bradley's big paws were buried in his fluffy neck fur, now, pads rubbing against his skin.

And everything was the way it had been, before Friday. Everything was right again.

Jonathon was basking in it, like a cat in the sunshine. He was relishing it, like each course of a feast. He was craving it like a drug, burning up with it like a fever, throwing himself into it... like some graceful yet exhilarating sport.

It was like having sex with their muzzles.

Jonathon wanted to do this every day. He wanted to do this forever.

It was not to be, however. After so long that the windows had fogged up, Brad broke away, drunk on something other than the sangria he'd had. His eyes opened a little... and, abruptly, he shook his head to clear it, and drew back. "S-sorry..." he stammered.

Jonathon opened his eyes properly as well. "Huh?"

"I... I didn't meant to really... do that much," the wolf mumbled, embarrassed. He wiped his mouth on the back of his paw. "I don't wanna go too far or anything..."

Jonathon felt a sense of aching sympathy. "Aww... you were fine, Brad, I really liked that. Nothing wrong with some kissing, I'm just fine with that."

"Yeah... but still..." the wolf said, uncertainly. "I just... you know, I wanna be careful, I don't wanna do something bad again."

"You're such a sweetheart," the raccoon said softly, stroking his wolf's mane with one paw. Brad offered him a little smile at that. "It's okay, I promise. I said I wanted to just hang out, and get to know you better. And you're doing a great job of that. Okay?"

The wolf rumbled, leaning into his boyfriend's gentle petting as it ranged up onto his head. "Okay..." he murmured.

Jonathon gave him a little earscritch. Some people liked that, he knew, others didn't. Brad seemed to be one of the ones who did, judging from the light rumble he got in response. The way the big wolf's eyelids lowered, the way he angled his head toward that scritchy paw...

Finally, Jonathon sighed. "All right... I guess I should head inside..." he said reluctantly.

"Okay," Brad said, with a smile at him in the darkness. "I'll text you tomorrow, then."

"Alright. Goodnight, Brad." The raccoon opened the door gingerly.

"'Night, Jonathon..."

Then, the raccoon climbed out, and made his way carefully out into the icy parking lot. Brad watched him in the mirror until he was sure Jonathon had made it inside okay.

Siiiiiigh. Work tomorrow. And he was already going to fail to make up for his sleep deprivation today, which he felt tugging at his eyelids even as he sat there in the warm car.

Well, better get home, before it proved a danger to his driving. Brad pulled out of the parking space and rumbled away. It wasn't long before he was back at his apartment building, hopping up the stairs and shaking icy water out of his headfur.

The apartment was just how he had left it. Marty was watching TV and finishing up the nacho cheese. He looked over. "Hey."

Brad shut the door. "Hey." He took his jacket off and hung it up. "So, what'd you think?'

"Of him?"

Brad nodded, grinning.

"He seems really nice. Great sense of humor. Definitely cute. Easy to have fun with. Smart, and has things in common with you."

Brad beamed. "So you like him?" He'd have to text the raccoon right away; screw tomorrow, this was exciting.

The boar pondered. "Provisionally."

Brad's jaw dropped. He stood there for a second, floored. "Pro_vis_ionally?! What's that supposed to mean?!"

Marty shrugged. "I guess I just want to learn a little more about him before I make my mind up."

"What's wrong with him?" Brad asked, dismayed, padding closer and putting both paws on the back of the couch anxiously.

"Nothing's wrong with him," the boar said logically. "He's a nice guy. I just haven't come to a conclusion about him yet."

"What sort of conclusion is there to come to, besides the fact that he's a nice guy?!" The wolf was getting angry now; they could both hear it in his voice.

Marty sighed, rubbing his forehead with a paw, and then looked over to his roommate. "Brad, he's going to break your heart once and for all. You realize that, right?"

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Hmmm... that didn't really go the way either of them planned, I think...

See you next Friday.