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The burly tiger's workdays weren't nearly so physically strenuous now, after being promoted to Plant Manager, but they were still exhausting, and he relished the opportunity to shed his work clothes, take a hot shower, and just lounge around for a while. Some of the guys from the plant were going out for drinks later and had invited him, but he'd declined. He wasn't worried about fraternizing; they were all friends, but they knew he was in charge on the job, and were, for the most part, decent about not trying to influence him after hours. The truth of the matter was, he just wanted to go home and unwind. Tomorrow, perhaps, he'd find something to do with others, but tonight was all his.\n\nOr so he thought.\n\nThe knock on the door, in the middle of the raging storm, came as a complete surprise to Matt. He jerked upright out of his chair, striding towards the door. \"Who is it?\" he bellowed.\n\nThe answer was lost in a crash of thunder.\n\nMatt checked himself briefly. He was clad only in a pair of brief jogging shorts, but that was sufficient for answering his own door. He opened the entryway, and the irritation on his face faded as he saw the sodden mass of feline despondency huddled in the questionable shelter of his front stoop. He hadn't seen the boy in years, but Matt recognized the drenched young tiger in his doorway immediately. \"Johnny?\"\n\n\"Uncle Matt, thank God!\" The expression on the youth's face was one of heart-wrenching desperation, and Matt took a half-step back as the boy's condition registered. \"Can I please come in?\"\n\nThe burly older tiger opened the storm door and stepped back, letting the drenched youth enter his home. \"Boy, what the hells're you doin' out in this weather?'' Matthew started, then stopped and shook himself. \"Wait. Get out of those wet clothes before you get sick, come in here and use my fur dryer.\" He guided his nephew to the master bathroom, where the boy shucked his dripping attire and stood in the dryer, a device consisting of an array of warm-air jets designed to dry a person's full-body fur coat quickly and efficiently. \"I'll throw these in the dryer and come back with a towel for you,\" Matt advised. \"Then you can tell me what the fuck is going on and why I ain't seen or heard from you or your father in for-fuckin'-ever.\"\n\nJohn grinned, despite his situation; Uncle Matt had never bothered to mince words around the boy, or moderate the more colorful parts of his vocabulary. He knew it had resulted in at least one argument between his parents, particularly his father, and his uncle, but the burly bachelor had proclaimed - loudly - that he'd hear the same, if not worse, from his classmates at school.\n\nMaybe that's part of the reason Dad forbade me to see Uncle Matt, John thought to himself. Like I give two shits about what Dad thinks now. John fought back tears as he thought of his father. Until today, he'd considered the man a bit rigid, but still a loving parent. The cold wrath with which he'd been thrown out of his father's home was alien to him, and it hurt worse than his father's slaps or kick. John tried to shove such thoughts out of his mind, concentrating instead on working the water out of his drenched pelt.\n\nHe hasn't changed a bit, the youth thought to himself and smiled. I should be safe here. Never mind that he should have been safe in his father's home...\n\nJohn shook himself, relishing the warm air flowing through his now dry pelt, when a soft knock came at the bathroom door, followed shortly by his uncle. \"Wrap yourself in this,\" the tiger told him softly, handing him a large fluffy towel. \"Your clothes are in the dryer, and I don't have anything quite your size.\"\n\nJohn rather quickly looked his uncle over. He was nearly as tall as the older tiger, but not nearly so muscular; his uncle's arm looked about as thick as his own leg. There was no way any of his uncle's clothing would fit him. He sighed and wrapped the towel around his waist.\n\n\"Now come out to the living room,\" Uncle Matt invited him. \"Made ye some hot cocoa, you could probably use something warm. And you can tell me what th'fuck you were doin' out in that mess.\"\n\nJohn complied, sitting himself on the couch and taking a sip of the cocoa as his uncle returned to the recliner. The youth met the older tiger's gaze levelly, and told him precisely what had happened: \"Dad...threw me out of the house.\"\n\nMatthew's eyes narrowed and he made a soft growl, but made no further overt reaction. \"I know my brother's a nutjob, but why'd he do a thing like that to his only son?\"\n\nJohn stared into his cocoa for a moment, then met his uncle's emerald gaze again. His eyes...so much like my father's, he thought. Except he doesn't look at me as something repulsive... \"Dad...I don't know how, but Dad found out...I'm gay, Uncle Matt. He threw me out because I like to look at guys, and he found some pictures and stuff on my computer.\" He was nearly babbling with the need to confess to his uncle everything; the youth's words were tumbling from his muzzle before he could stop them. \"I don't know how he got into my computer, I had a password lock on it, but he had printouts of all the stuff I've looked at...all the pictures, all the stories I read...he threw them at me, then he said he was going to take me to his Church and have me exorcised or something...I told him that wouldn't work, that I wasn't crazy or possessed by demons and he hit me...he hit me, he kicked me, then he threw me out in the storm...\" The boy's composure evaporated, and he barely managed to set his cocoa cup down squarely before he broke into sobs and covered his face with his hands.\n\nMatthew was out of the recliner in a flash. He knelt beside his nephew, hugging the boy and murring softly to him. \"It's okay, Johnny. You're ok. You're safe now,\" he crooned, trying to reassure the weeping teenager in his arms.\n\n\"It's not okay,\" the youth sobbed. \"He hates me, he threw me out, and now you're probably gonna throw me out...\"\n\nStrong fingers cupped John's chin and lifted it, gently but firmly, as Matt forced the boy to meet his gaze. \"Listen to me, Johnny. Your dad is an ass, and any man who'd throw his own kid out, particularly into that mess, for being gay does not deserve to be called a father. You're safe here, and you can stay here for as long as you want. I'm going to have a little talk with my dear brother, and see if I can't get your things out of his house. I've got a spare bedroom; it's yours now. We'll fix it up however you want, and nobody's kicking you out of this house, least of all me.\"\n\nJohn stared at his uncle, his emotions whipsawing between despair and hope. \"You mean it?\"\n\nMatt took the youth's slender hand in his own, and pushed against a pressure point in the boy's palm. John's claws immediately unsheathed, and the elder tiger pressed the boy's hand to his own chest, bare claws digging through his pelt. \"By my heart's blood, I swear it,\" he murmured softly, and John's eyes widened. The oath was as old as recorded civilization, and very, very seldom used; while not legally enforceable, any tiger who broke such an oath would find himself very quickly shunned by other tigers and most other races, to such an extent that many employers would consider him unhireable, despite a perfect working record.\n\n\"Thank you,\" John whispered, awed by the lengths at which his of-late estranged uncle would go for him.\n\n\"It ain't nothin',\" Matt grumbled, and stood. \"You just sit there and get warm, I gotta make a phone call,\" With that, he stalked to the kitchen, removed the cordless phone from the charging cradle, and began to dial. \"Number still the same?\" he asked John, and the youth nodded. There was a dial tone and a series of beeps as the number was transmitted, then a ring. Matt held the phone to his ear and waited for his brother to answer.\n\nClick. \"Hello, Robbie? Matt. I got somethin' here you left out in the rain...the fuck you talkin' about?...your son, you jackass!\" A pause, a familiar voice screaming from the handset. \"The fuck you say, you don't have a son! He's sitting here on my couch, about half hypothermic...Damn if I know where else he went, he just showed up at my door! Says you threw him out...\" More screaming. \"I don' know what the shit you're talkin' about! I ain't seen the boy in seven years, not since you called me a freak, to my face an' before witnesses, and tol' me to stay away...Yeah, and thanks a lot! I lost a good nephew and a good boyfriend over your bullshit!'' Lengthy, slightly less screamy ranting. \"The hell do you get off accusing me of that? I never, and would never...I don't know what the hell got into you since Ruth died, but you certainly ain't the lil'bro I used to know...Look, the boy needs his stuff. I'm gonna come and get it, tomorrow when you're at home, or Sunday when you go to that crackpot church...The hell you say! Remember, I know where you keep your spare keys!...A'right, but what's left better be left, or I'm gonna take it outta yer scrawny hide!...Yeah, tomorrow. Call it noon...Yeah, it probably would be a good idea for you to be somewhere else. Yes, I'm bringing him. He knows what's his, and whether or not it's been broke...Burn it the fuck down after we leave, I don't give a shit. Tomorrow. Noon. Don't be within easy reach. Goodbye, Robert.\"\n\nMatt slammed the phone down onto the cradle and growled, tail lashing in fury, then glanced into his living room. John was curled up on the couch, as if he expected his uncle to unleash that rage upon him, his eyes wide with fear. \"I'm sorry you had to hear that...no. I'm sorry my little brother was such an ass as to put you into this situation in the first place.\" His raised hackles deflated, his lashing tail stilled, and the fury in his eyes cooled. He sat himself on the couch, placing his hand reassuringly on the boy's knee. \"This is your home now. I promise. Your idiot father says he smashed some of your stuff, but we'll go get what's left...and anything else you want. And what he broke, I'll replace.\"\n\nJohn hugged his uncle tightly, tears drenching the fur of his face, and Matthew held the boy, tenderly, as if he was not his brother's son, but his own.", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Matthew perked an ear, listening to the storm raging outside, and shuddered.  "Nasty," he muttered to himself, stretching in the recliner.  The burly tiger's workdays weren't nearly so physically strenuous now, after being promoted to Plant Manager, but they were still exhausting, and he relished the opportunity to shed his work clothes, take a hot shower, and just lounge around for a while.  Some of the guys from the plant were going out for drinks later and had invited him, but he'd declined.  He wasn't worried about fraternizing; they were all friends, but they knew he was in charge on the job, and were, for the most part, decent about not trying to influence him after hours.  The truth of the matter was, he just wanted to go home and unwind.  Tomorrow, perhaps, he'd find something to do with others, but tonight was all his.

Or so he thought.

The knock on the door, in the middle of the raging storm, came as a complete surprise to Matt.  He jerked upright out of his chair, striding towards the door.  "Who is it?" he bellowed.

The answer was lost in a crash of thunder.

Matt checked himself briefly.  He was clad only in a pair of brief jogging shorts, but that was sufficient for answering his own door.  He opened the entryway, and the irritation on his face faded as he saw the sodden mass of feline despondency huddled in the questionable shelter of his front stoop.  He hadn't seen the boy in years, but Matt recognized the drenched young tiger in his doorway immediately.  "Johnny?"

"Uncle Matt, thank God!"  The expression on the youth's face was one of heart-wrenching desperation, and Matt took a half-step back as the boy's condition registered.  "Can I please come in?"

The burly older tiger opened the storm door and stepped back, letting the drenched youth enter his home.  "Boy, what the hells're you doin' out in this weather?'' Matthew started, then stopped and shook himself.  "Wait.  Get out of those wet clothes before you get sick, come in here and use my fur dryer."  He guided his nephew to the master bathroom, where the boy shucked his dripping attire and stood in the dryer, a device consisting of an array of warm-air jets designed to dry a person's full-body fur coat quickly and efficiently.  "I'll throw these in the dryer and come back with a towel for you," Matt advised.  "Then you can tell me what the fuck is going on and why I ain't seen or heard from you or your father in for-fuckin'-ever."

John grinned, despite his situation; Uncle Matt had never bothered to mince words around the boy, or moderate the more colorful parts of his vocabulary.  He knew it had resulted in at least one argument between his parents, particularly his father, and his uncle, but the burly bachelor had proclaimed - loudly - that he'd hear the same, if not worse, from his classmates at school.

Maybe that's part of the reason Dad forbade me to see Uncle Matt, John thought to himself.  Like I give two shits about what Dad thinks now.  John fought back tears as he thought of his father.  Until today, he'd considered the man a bit rigid, but still a loving parent.  The cold wrath with which he'd been thrown out of his father's home was alien to him, and it hurt worse than his father's slaps or kick.  John tried to shove such thoughts out of his mind, concentrating instead on working the water out of his drenched pelt.

He hasn't changed a bit, the youth thought to himself and smiled.  I should be safe here.  Never mind that he should have been safe in his father's home...

John shook himself, relishing the warm air flowing through his now dry pelt, when a soft knock came at the bathroom door, followed shortly by his uncle.  "Wrap yourself in this," the tiger told him softly, handing him a large fluffy towel.  "Your clothes are in the dryer, and I don't have anything quite your size."

John rather quickly looked his uncle over.  He was nearly as tall as the older tiger, but not nearly so muscular; his uncle's arm looked about as thick as his own leg.  There was no way any of his uncle's clothing would fit him.  He sighed and wrapped the towel around his waist.

"Now come out to the living room," Uncle Matt invited him.  "Made ye some hot cocoa, you could probably use something warm.  And you can tell me what th'fuck you were doin' out in that mess."

John complied, sitting himself on the couch and taking a sip of the cocoa as his uncle returned to the recliner.  The youth met the older tiger's gaze levelly, and told him precisely what had happened:  "Dad...threw me out of the house."

Matthew's eyes narrowed and he made a soft growl, but made no further overt reaction.  "I know my brother's a nutjob, but why'd he do a thing like that to his only son?"

John stared into his cocoa for a moment, then met his uncle's emerald gaze again.  His eyes...so much like my father's, he thought.  Except he doesn't look at me as something repulsive...  "Dad...I don't know how, but Dad found out...I'm gay, Uncle Matt.  He threw me out because I like to look at guys, and he found some pictures and stuff on my computer."  He was nearly babbling with the need to confess to his uncle everything; the youth's words were tumbling from his muzzle before he could stop them.  "I don't know how he got into my computer, I had a password lock on it, but he had printouts of all the stuff I've looked at...all the pictures, all the stories I read...he threw them at me, then he said he was going to take me to his Church and have me exorcised or something...I told him that wouldn't work, that I wasn't crazy or possessed by demons and he hit me...he hit me, he kicked me, then he threw me out in the storm..."  The boy's composure evaporated, and he barely managed to set his cocoa cup down squarely before he broke into sobs and covered his face with his hands.

Matthew was out of the recliner in a flash.  He knelt beside his nephew, hugging the boy and murring softly to him.  "It's okay, Johnny.  You're ok.  You're safe now," he crooned, trying to reassure the weeping teenager in his arms.

"It's not okay," the youth sobbed.  "He hates me, he threw me out, and now you're probably gonna throw me out..."

Strong fingers cupped John's chin and lifted it, gently but firmly, as Matt forced the boy to meet his gaze.  "Listen to me, Johnny.  Your dad is an ass, and any man who'd throw his own kid out, particularly into that mess, for being gay does not deserve to be called a father.  You're safe here, and you can stay here for as long as you want.  I'm going to have a little talk with my dear brother, and see if I can't get your things out of his house.  I've got a spare bedroom; it's yours now.  We'll fix it up however you want, and nobody's kicking you out of this house, least of all me."

John stared at his uncle, his emotions whipsawing between despair and hope.  "You mean it?"

Matt took the youth's slender hand in his own, and pushed against a pressure point in the boy's palm.  John's claws immediately unsheathed, and the elder tiger pressed the boy's hand to his own chest, bare claws digging through his pelt.  "By my heart's blood, I swear it," he murmured softly, and John's eyes widened.  The oath was as old as recorded civilization, and very, very seldom used; while not legally enforceable, any tiger who broke such an oath would find himself very quickly shunned by other tigers and most other races, to such an extent that many employers would consider him unhireable, despite a perfect working record.

"Thank you," John whispered, awed by the lengths at which his of-late estranged uncle would go for him.

"It ain't nothin'," Matt grumbled, and stood.  "You just sit there and get warm, I gotta make a phone call,"   With that, he stalked to the kitchen, removed the cordless phone from the charging cradle, and began to dial.  "Number still the same?" he asked John, and the youth nodded.  There was a dial tone and a series of beeps as the number was transmitted, then a ring.  Matt held the phone to his ear and waited for his brother to answer.

Click.  "Hello, Robbie?  Matt.  I got somethin' here you left out in the rain...the fuck you talkin' about?...your son, you jackass!"  A pause, a familiar voice screaming from the handset.  "The fuck you say, you don't have a son!  He's sitting here on my couch, about half hypothermic...Damn if I know where else he went, he just showed up at my door!  Says you threw him out..."  More screaming.  "I don' know what the shit you're talkin' about!  I ain't seen the boy in seven years, not since you called me a freak, to my face an' before witnesses, and tol' me to stay away...Yeah, and thanks a lot! I lost a good nephew and a good boyfriend over your bullshit!''  Lengthy, slightly less screamy ranting.  "The hell do you get off accusing me of that?  I never, and would never...I don't know what the hell got into you since Ruth died, but you certainly ain't the lil'bro I used to know...Look, the boy needs his stuff.  I'm gonna come and get it, tomorrow when you're at home, or Sunday when you go to that crackpot church...The hell you say! Remember, I know where you keep your spare keys!...A'right, but what's left better be left, or I'm gonna take it outta yer scrawny hide!...Yeah, tomorrow.  Call it noon...Yeah, it probably would be a good idea for you to be somewhere else.  Yes, I'm bringing him.  He knows what's his, and whether or not it's been broke...Burn it the fuck down after we leave, I don't give a shit.  Tomorrow.  Noon.  Don't be within easy reach.  Goodbye, Robert."

Matt slammed the phone down onto the cradle and growled, tail lashing in fury, then glanced into his living room.  John was curled up on the couch, as if he expected his uncle to unleash that rage upon him, his eyes wide with fear.  "I'm sorry you had to hear that...no.  I'm sorry my little brother was such an ass as to put you into this situation in the first place."  His raised hackles deflated, his lashing tail stilled, and the fury in his eyes cooled.  He sat himself on the couch, placing his hand reassuringly on the boy's knee.  "This is your home now.  I promise.  Your idiot father says he smashed some of your stuff, but we'll go get what's left...and anything else you want.  And what he broke, I'll replace."

John hugged his uncle tightly, tears drenching the fur of his face, and Matthew held the boy, tenderly, as if he was not his brother's son, but his own.", "pools_count": 0, "title": "Of A Different Stripe - 02 Shelter and Comfort", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "application/msword", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "1", "rating_name": "Mature", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "2", "name": "Nudity", "description": "Nonsexual nudity exposing breasts or genitals (must not show arousal)", "rating_id": "1" } ], "submission_type_id": "12", "type_name": "Writing - Document", "guest_block": "f", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "0", "views": "24" }