Haunted
By TheNeutralOoze
A deep sigh escaped Allen’s lungs and fogged up the train window. The floppy-eared hound had been watching trees pass outside for a few hours, mostly because he couldn’t bring himself to sleep anymore. His hometown was a six-hour train ride from his university, and the winter months meant stopping a handful of times because of freezing and flooding on the tracks. Ten hours into the trip and Allen had run out of the toys and trinkets that he packed to keep himself busy, a pile of gamepads, books, and devices filling the empty seat beside him.
The canine hated Clearpoint. School was hell for him, and coming back home just dug up all the hurt and regret he’d buried. Staring out at the farms and fields just outside of town, he felt his heart sink.
The train jerked suddenly, pulling into the station. Allen quickly packed his things back into his messenger bag, and threw it over one shoulder. He slung his other shoulder with a navy-blue duffel and stood from his seat while other travelers passed his aisle. A short terrier with slate fur winked at him on the way out. Allen blushed at the gesture, directing his gaze away from the passing canine.
Stepping off the train last, he felt a chill wind drag the raw scent of onion over the station. Allen’s stomach churned as he looked around. A few familiar faces didn’t notice him. Crowds made his skull pound, and he didn’t need to be delayed by the small-town folks who spotted him. Of course, he’d changed a lot since high school: more spots spattered his fur, a large brown one forming over his left eye and extending over an ear. He wore square-framed glasses now after spending freshman year squinting to read his textbooks. A little weight slapped him with a pudgier frame. 
Small talk irritated Allen, and he knew he was likely to say something offensive and scare most friendly faces off. The beagle erred on the side of caution, bowing his head and slipping on his beanie. Putting on his best scowl to detract any meddlers, he trudged through the platform, avoiding any eye contact.
Allen stepped street-side from the station. Glancing around, he swore under his breath. No one was there. No hide nor hair of his parents or brother. Just a sea of strangers washing over him. His mind raced: Where could they be? Did he forget to tell them? What if their car broke down? Was he stranded here? Maybe he did tell them and they just didn’t care? He shoved his paws in his hoodie pockets and took a deep breath. 
Okay, Allen, get your shit together.
Checking his jeans and fishing out his wallet, he counted the cash on hand: twenty-two bucks. Enough for a cab ride home, at least.
Allen let out an aggravated sigh, flagging down a cab and hopping in. The beagle rattled off his address as he pulled off his hat and leaned on the door. “Feels good to be home,” he whispered to himself, looking out the window at the crowd of faces. He grimaced when he identified a scraggly wolf, Benji, his personal bully for nearly half a decade. Allen turned away from the window and plugged in a pair of headphones before zoning out to the soft drum beat of his MP3 player.

*		*		*
	The train station bustled with people, and Benji’s head was feeling foggy. Crowds were too much for the wolf, and all the noise flooded his mind and he swam in his head. He tried to focus on something, a red sedan parked at the corner. Once it drove off though, he felt a wall of sounds crash back into him. His stomach dropped. All he wanted to do was blow chunks on the street. Relief replaced nausea when he spotted a matte-black Jeep with a calico cat behind the wheel. He scratched at the gray fur on the nape of his neck, the smile on his face a farce as his sister pulled the Jeep up to the sidewalk.
	“Hey’a Benj, how was the train?” Cora asked. Her brother bowed his head under the car’s roof and flopped onto the fabric seats, letting out a hefty sigh. “Gods, I forgot how big you are!” Cora laughed and tried to help Benji click his seatbelt. The wolf was lodged in place, his shoulder shoved against the window. He wasn’t going anywhere.
	“Oh, you know. Train’s a train. How’s Dad?” Benji said, bobbing his head and readjusting. Something inside the seat felt wedged in his back.
	“He’s home. He made eggnog and helped me and Mom decorate the tree and stuff. When I was leaving, he was throwing a lasagna in the oven.” Cora played with curly hair that hung over one of her shoulders. Traffic was slow today. Stop-and-go made Benji’s stomach lurch in rhythm with the car.
	“Lasagna?  Who made it?”
	“Mom. She hasn’t made it since… well…” Cora trailed off. 
	“Don’t worry, it’s fine. I’m sure my Dad’s happy that your Mom is opening up a bit.”
	“Yeah. More like moving on…” Cora mumbled under her breath, a frown cracked her enthusiastic face, and a twinge of guilt struck Benji’s heart. It’d been four years. He still barely knew Cora or her mom, and it still stung whenever her Dad came up.
	For the rest of the car ride the pair was silent. Benji’s head was buzzing, but he couldn’t find the right words of encouragement. He played with a handful of scenarios: Your Mom isn’t moving on. She’d just tell him that she is. Isn’t it better she moves on? Nope, overstepping; she’d probably take offense. Is lasagna really that important? Ooh, that would be a fun walk home. 
Benji gave up thinking about it and stared out at the snow-covered street. He didn’t come home for the holidays, at least not usually. He had a solemn mission this year, and all he had to do was find the right time to do it.
They passed Apolaki Park, and the car filled with light. Every year city-services decorated the park. He looked out at twinkling, bright-colored, icicle lights thread through tree branches, and silver-and-gold garlands twisted around lamp posts. The brief glance a siren’s call, filling him with wonder and beckoning him back.
*		*		*
	Entering the house he’d grown up in, Allen felt a headache wash over him. Chatter hit him like a wall. The scent of pine needles, butter cookies, and a roasting ham coated the house. Normally, the beagle’s tail would be wagging, and he’d float through the house like a cartoon character at the scent of a home-cooked meal. Today was Christmas Eve, meaning every bit of his family clustered inside the excessively warmed home. Allen felt sweat sloping down the small of his back already.
	A cluster of thoughts bashed Allen’s aching mind like every year since he left home:  Where was all this family when I was growing up? When we needed the support. Why did they decide to come out of the wood-work when he left? Did they even try? Did they even care? That was the thought he always ended on. The one that bothered him the most.
	Stepping inside, his mother (a short canine with graying fur) pulled Allen into an embrace. “Oh, honey. We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow!” Allen just flopped in his mother’s arms, his muzzle ground into her wool Christmas sweater. She released him and finally noticed the sunken look on her son’s face. “Someone doesn’t look like they’re feeling the holiday spirit.”
	“Well, Mom, I did just spend the last of my cash on a ca—”
	“Oh, honey, I’ve got just the thing to get you in the spirit,” she said, ignoring Allen’s disgruntled comment before turning and vanishing into the back of the house.
	A bulky hand found Allen’s shoulder, and the plump, smiling face of his uncle Douglas greeted him. “I’ve known your mother for all of twenty-five years now, and she still can’t relax.” He chuckled, gripping Allen’s shoulder. His droopy-jowled muzzle was reassuring, but it didn’t cut deep enough to stave off the creeping migraine sinking into his skull. “Try not to let her bother you. Here how much was the cab?”
	“No, Doug. I really can’t take your money.” Allen feigned another smile, a gesture that would carry him through the next two days.
	“Oh, come on, kiddo, let me do it.” Oh good, “kiddo.” He’s twenty-four and his family still treats him with kid gloves. He let out an exacerbated sigh and watched his uncle pull the wallet from the back pocket of his jeans.
	“Ten… and some change. Really Uncle, don’t worry about it.” 
Doug pulled a twenty out of the folded leather, passed the bill and smiled at him. “Merry Christmas,” the older beagle said and stumbled away. Allen would find a way to slip that back to his uncle later. Something about taking money from his divorced, jobless, and homeless uncle felt scummy to him.
	His mother hadn’t reemerged, so Allen scooted a bit further into the house. He waved and greeted his extended family, and a few faces he didn’t recognize smiled politely. Lights and tinsel decorated the tree squatting in the corner. He was warming up a little looking at some of the familiar bits and bobbles. He touched at an old crystal reindeer he’d bought his mom when he was in primary school. Almost light-hearted, he started digging in his bag. The corners of his mouth felt a touch less dower and formed a smirk before his Aunt’s lilted voice pierced his ears.
	“Oh! Allen!” a ragdoll with blue eyes bellowed, shambling in toward him. She had a young man struggling under one of her hefty arms. “I wanted you to meet Rich from work.” The elevated Rottweiler was puny in her clutches. He fidgeted under the ragdoll’s grip, and his black-furred head bowed low. Normally Allen would be excited to see his Aunt, but he didn’t think she was here to offer him cookies. “Rich here swings for your team, and I convinced him to come out to meet ya’.  Say ‘Hi,’ Rich!” She nudged the Rottie in a muscled bicep, and he waved at Allen.
	His Aunt laughed, pushing Rich over to him. Before Allen could so much as stutter at his Aunt, she yelled, “Hey!” and lunged toward her wife, the petite beagle in the corner. Allen shook Rich’s hand. “So, your Maria’s nephew?” the Rottie muttered at him.
	“Yeah, she’s a lot of—” he looked over, watching Maria scoop and dip her wife into a kiss under the mistletoe, “energy.”
	Rich was looking at his shoes like a kid. “So, what do you do?” Allen looked at the big guy: easily six feet with a handful of inches on the beagle, and robust with muscles outlined by a slim-fit t-shirt. Moss-green eyes peeked out at Allen under thick, rust-colored eyebrows.
	“Well, I’m not really from around here to be honest, but I usually work at a little café on campus. I’m an English major hoping to…”  
Rich looked away. His attention drawn to a commotion behind the beagle. 
Allen rolled his eyes. “You can go. Believe me I’m fine.”
	“No, no, please go on. You’re a student?” The rottweiler brought his eyes back to Allen, his ears perked up, and he cocked his head. “How’s that?”
	“Well, I’ve been going for three years, and I like it well enough…”  Allen crinkled his nose seeing Rich’s attention pass him again. He strode away before the rottweiler could stop him.
	Allen ducked into the kitchen, sliding a hand over the linoleum counter. He swung open the fridge and dug through sweet treasures hidden within. Every year his mother made an assortment of sweet treats: peppermint bark, salted caramel, peanut butter pinwheels. Allen stuffed as many treats as he could fit into his mouth and relaxed, feeling the gooey treats melt on his tongue. The bark was smooth and minty, every breath chilling his sinuses. He lapped up the peanut butter, creamy and smooth with a sweetness that tickled every taste bud. His favorite was the salted caramel. He could down handful-after-handful, the soft, sweet, and savory flavors twisting together. He felt truly at home with a mouth full of homemade confections.
	The beagle was in paradise until he felt a sharp-clawed finger poke into his belly. He yelped, choking on a mouthful of melted caramel. 
“Leave some of that for the rest of the family.” 
Coughing around liquid caramel, Allen twisted around and found his mom jutting a neatly wrapped box toward him. His eyes widened at the tightly covered gift, and he grinned up at his mom.
	“I saw this and thought it was the cutest thing,” she said, watching with a dutiful eye as her son dug through the wrapping paper. Allen’s face went from a grin of curiosity to discontent. Little bear head patterns stamped all over green fabric—a Christmas sweater.
He grimaced when his mother stifled a laugh. “I know how much you love bears, sweetie.” Allen had made one romantic relationship in high school, and his mother hadn’t let him live the breakup down. His face felt hot. He tossed the box on the counter. The rest of the family looked at him. His heart sank, and he dashed off, slamming into the bathroom down the hall.
	Allen flipped the faucet on, and splashed water in his face. Raspy breaths filled the small room. 
His mind spun. His heart breaking. The laughter of his classmates echoed in his mind. Jackson’s chubby face appeared. Feel the sting of fresh tears on his face.
The contents in his pockets scattered onto the counter. Spare change from the cab. A receipt from the train. Wallet. Phone. He ran his thumb pad over a crack on the device’s face. Allen took some comfort in a distant memory before a pounding on the door crashed him back to reality.
	“You gonna hide in there all day?” His dad’s gruff voice pierced the wooden door, and the veil of nostalgia swaddling him fell away. 
Now Allen just stared at his damp muzzle in the mirror. “Why did I even come home?” he asked himself, hearing his father walk off down the hallway.
	He ran his finger through the fur on the back of his head and neck, replaced the items on the countertop into his pockets, and stepped out of the bathroom. 
Across the hall, Allen dropped the duffle with his clothes in his old bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He pulled his shirt off, tucking his ears in the neck hole gently, and tossed it to the ground. The shirt ruffled his fur. His hands slid over his chest and belly, smoothing out the uneven bits. Next, he kicked off his boots, grabbing and tossing them over by his bed. His pants, socks, and underwear came off in the same move, his hands sliding down his thighs and shins. He adjusted himself, allowing the warmth from the heater to explore every inch of his fur. 
The beagle slipped into a new outfit: a pair of black jeans and a simple blue t-shirt combo with a thick hoodie pulled over top. He slipped back on his boots and stepped out into the hall, dodging eye-contact with his father. The older beagle shot a cold glare his way. Allen skittered through the house, leaving back out the front door.
*		*		*
	Benji nodded, quietly listening to his step-mom explain how she made dinner from scratch. She sat across from him at the dinner table, her daughter perched next to her. To his right, his dad sat at the head. Benji was trying to zone out but his father had cracked a beer, his third of the evening. 
The younger wolf struggled to put it out of mind. Benji kept seeing his father’s silhouette towering over him and yelling at top volume.
Cora’s silence wasn’t helping. 
Benji felt like a mess. He’d gotten in the house, tossed his stuff in the guest room upstairs, and as soon as he saw his dad, his heart sank. He knew he’d been quiet and distant all evening. He hated himself for it.
“Are you enjoying everything?” Callista asked, reaching across and touching Benji’s arm. The calico looked concerned.
 Benji tugged on his ear. “Yes ma’am. You all did a great job.” He took a hunk out of a slice of garlic bread and smiled at her with bits of bread caught in his teeth. The elder cat laughed a little, covering her mouth with one hand, and Cora smiled. 
Benji looked to his father, the older wolf had his lips hard-pressed together, and his eyes shooting daggers at the young man. Callista shot the salt-and-pepper-furred older man a similar look and he shoved a spoonful of greens into his maw.
“C-Cora, you have a boyfriend, right?” he said. His father sat up and leaned forward toward her as she cleared her throat.
“Oh yeah, me and Trevor, we’re going on three months now!” Her hands were flapping, and she smiled from ear-to-ear. “He took me out for lunch Wednesday, and we ordered for each other. He knows me so well. We held hands, and he took me to a movie, and when he kissed me… I can feel the earth turn when I’m with him.” She rambled on and on, and Benji watched, the whole of his father dedicating his attention to the young lady. Benji crossed his arms and sank in his chair. Where was this guy when I was a kid?
“So… Benji, how’s school going?” Callista looked across to him with a smile on her face.
Benji shook his head like his fur was wet, and cleared his throat with a cough. “A little mixed, honestly,” he said with a chuckle. “I took this course on science fiction, it was a let-down. I really like my philosophy class… my coach told me to drop it, though.” The wolf’s eyes flashed down to his food, and he took another bite of creamy parmesan and meat sauce.
“Wait, why does he want you to drop it?” Cora pointed her fork at him, asking around mouthful of pasta. Her right ear twitched, a small dot of sauce flicking onto her fur.
“He said that once the season started, I wouldn’t have time for it…or the guy I’d met in cla—”
“No one wants to hear about that, kid,” his dad said, finally breaking his silence and pushing into their conversation. He took a swig from his bottle, choking down the bitter hops. “Dinner’s good babe,” he said, smiling at Callista and audibly tearing off another mouthful of French bread.
“You know what,” Callista said, wiping her muzzle with a cloth napkin, “I think I’m done for tonight. If you’ll excuse me.” She slid her chair from the table and shuffled out of the room. Cora excused herself and followed her mother. He and his father sat in silence, the clinking of silverware on plateware filling the empty room.
“Great, you ruined another dinner,” his dad groused. Benji felt his blood boiling. He remained silent—force of habit. He heard the squeal of chair legs, and suddenly the shadow of his dad loomed over him.
“Who the hell do you think you are?  You spend half-a-decade from home, and what? You just come back to fuck up my new life?” A heavy fist pounded on the table, shaking the plates and knocking a few glasses over. 
Benji flinched at the display and felt his grip close around the knife under his palm. 
“You know this is why your mom left us.” 
Benji’s throat went dry at that. His heart dropped out. He plunged the sharp end of his knife into the table and kicked the chair out behind him. He stood equal to his father.
“Ever think she left because you were a bastard to us every day? That maybe all the drinking and yelling may have drove her away, Dad?” Benji said. He shouldered the old man and walked away, grabbing his coat on the way out of the house. The slam of the front door echoed into the neighborhood.
*		*		*
	The park felt warm and inviting compared to the wind-buffeted street around it. The park shimmered with lights and energy, a beacon to anyone walking by. Inside twinkling red-and-green string-lights were woven into pine garlands and wrapped around light poles. On the park fences, elaborate strands of lights spun into a web of snowflakes, and statues of colorful lights danced in the snow. The copse of fir trees built the essence of the park’s décor, each decorated with shining lights and a variety of ornaments.
	Allen felt relieved, placing an ornament high on a tree. It was from his university, the logo reading “AU” inside a shield on the front, and small square glyphs were sprinkled like silver snowflakes over the pristine, indigo surface. 
Fresh air invaded Allen’s jacket, and he smiled feeling his headache clearing away more and more with every breath. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and thumbed a matching ornament. Maybe later once things settle down. Allen felt flushed at the idea of going home.
	The beagle sighed, watching the fog of his breath drift into the night sky. He relaxed on the balls of his feet, listening to snow crunch under foot. Everything around him just faded away. He absorbed the smell of fresh-baked goods wafting in from down the street and the pine needles around him. A cold breeze washed over his fur, making him shiver and smile. People around him turned down to a dullness until he recognized a voice that cut through the quiet.
	“Allen?” 
The beagle glanced back and saw the slate-gray wolf from earlier at the station. Somewhere deep inside, Allen wanted to run. Put as much distance between him and Benji as he could. His heart pounded and his feet were stone. He stood there, diminished by the hugeness of the wolf before turning fully to face him.
	“What do you want, Benji? Here to take another swing at me?” Allen felt heat in his face and in his gut. He stepped back from the wolf.
	“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” The wolf’s eyes were red and puffy, and his shoulders drooped low from their usual high peak. “I’m not here to fight. Is it okay if I just hang this ornament and leave?” 
Allen sighed and waved him over to the tree. He watched Benji raise a glass snowflake high onto the tree. “November 1993” was printed across the front.
	“What’s the date?” the beagle asked, cocking his head.
	“It’s the year I was born. My mom kept it and hung it on the tree every year.”
	“Not this year?”
	“No…” Benji’s throat felt dry, but he had to say it: “She died last month.”
Allen stepped a little closer, and Benji flinched, snapping the ornament’s string. He grabbed for it, fumbling it over his shoulder and sending it flying at the beagle. The young man caught it, cheering with a quiet bark and then staring wide-eyed as the full mass of Benji flew toward him. Benji toppled the smaller canine and slammed on top of him. The wolf pushed himself off the ground and blushed, noticing the floppy-eared canine curled up beneath him.
Benji leapt to his feet and helped Allen up. They both shook out their clothes, sending snow cascading to the ground. Benji chuckled awkwardly and cursed his flushed face, hoping the air would cool him off. Allen rubbed at his arm a bit and handed the ornament back to the befuddled wolf.
“Look. I’m sorry I was so curt with you earlier. It’s been a long day,” Allen said.
“Here, how about, at least for tonight, we’re just a couple of guys that stumbled together in the snow, okay?” Benji said, smiling and taking the ornament from Allen.
“That sound all right by me. Have you eaten?” Allen felt his stomach growl. “There’s a great burger joint just around the corner from here.”
*		*		*
	“Really?  She brought just a stranger from work,” Benji asked sitting across from Allen. The wolf’s mouth was stuffed to the brim with fries, muffling most of the words. The beagle nodded at him, slurping down some of his soda.
	“Yeah. I think she was trying to be nice but… oh boy… the poor guy was so awkward.” They’d been sharing back and forth for about an hour and were almost caught up with each other. Allen took comfort knowing that his long-time antagonist was struggling with the holidays too. The beagle felt his guard drop around Benji. He wanted to just collapse into his big fluffy body. 
	“All right, I have a confession,” Benji said. He played with the little furs on the back of his hands and closed his eyes. “I actually really liked you in high school.”
	“What? What do you mean?”
	“I thought you were cute…”
	“So, you had feelings for me?”
	“Yeah…”
	“You had a really funny way of showing it.” Allen dropped his soda on the table and crossed his arms over his chest. 
	 “I was jealous of you.”
	Allen laughed, cocking an eyebrow. “What did you have to be jealous of? I was just a scared kid. You were big man on campus with an insane body, near perfect grades, and any girl you wanted.”
	“All that’s fine but you were so confident in yourself.” The wolf continued to fiddle with his fur, moving to the scruff between his paw pads. “I was so spun up and stressed out about everything! I did things I absolutely hated just to maintain my image, and I took out my frustrations on you.” He tugged hard on one ear. “I was crushing on you hard, and so instead I crushed you. I put my feelings for you in a box and tried so hard to just ignore them, but it was overwhelming. I loved you, man. I’m so sorry for everything.”
Benji’s voice trailed off. When he found the strength to open his eyes, his heart dropped out. Allen was gone. His food was there, but the beagle’s seat was vacant. He glanced back to look for the beagle only to be caught by surprise.
Allen was standing just to his left. He slid into the booth next to Benji and pulled the big wolf into a warm embrace.
	“It’s okay. High school sucks for everyone. Especially in your situation… I get it. There’s nothing we can do about the past. I appreciate you opening up to me and sharing your feelings.” Benji sniffled. Allen broke the hug, and held the wolf’s arms. He looked into Benji’s eyes. “It’ll be okay. You don’t have to beat yourself up.”
Allen smiled a big goofy grin, and the wolf returned the gesture. “You wanna get out of here?” Benji said. The beagle nodded and tossed a couple of bills on the table before they hustled out the front door, hands interlocked.
*		*		*
	It was a flurry of motion and passion once the pair had found a private spot in the park. Their body heat cut through the chill in the air, Allen and Benji locked in their own world. Allen had pushed Benji onto his back, throwing himself on the wolf’s torso and kissing him. Their lips met and sent bolts of sensations into both canines. The kiss broke only for a moment before Benji grabbed the back of Allen’s head and their lips crashed back together. Their tongues danced and explored the taste of each other’s mouths. 
The beagle pushed his nimble fingers under Benji’s shirt to the thick bush of fur on his chest. It took little time for Allen to pull the t-shirt off Benji, exposing rigged nipples to the cool air. Benji threw his head back, enjoying the tugs and teases the smaller canine gave to the soft nubs under his fur. The beagle’s dark eyes took in the twitches and movements of Benji’s face, smiling at the muffled groans that escaped from the wolf’s lips.
	“Oof, this is great, but I think it might be time to”— Benji grabbed Allen around the waist and, in a quick move, turned him onto his back and gave him a quick peck on the lips—“flip the script.
	“That was just bad, man. To think, I thought you were clever.” The beagle grinned, running his hand over the side of Benji’s lightly muscled stomach. Allen yelped when he felt cold paw pads slip under his shirt. Soft claws combed his fur, and a tongue slowly followed the curve of his neck. The beagle let out a soft moan when a large hand gripped his back, pulling him up into another deep kiss. 
Benji’s other hand groped at Allen’s bulging jeans, teasing at the sensitive package inside. He popped the button and pulled the zipper, a weighty hand invading Allen’s pants and fondling him through his cotton briefs. Benji chortled watching Allen let out a needy whine, their breaths turning to frost in the air. He grabbed the tented boxers and pulled them down beneath Allen’s weighty pair of balls, exposing his cream-colored cock.
Grabbing the exposed member, Benji smiled a toothy grin and massaged Allen slowly, using the whole of his hand to milk the plump muscle. The wolf’s own arousal showed, a lewd ridge forming through his jeans. He could feel soft hands gripping firmly on his muscular ass. He broke his assault on Allen’s dick, standing and slipping his tightening jeans off and abandoning them in the snow. The wolf’s nine-inch phallus bobbed in front of the beagle’s muzzle, yearning for pleasure and dripping precum with anticipation.
On his back, Allen’s face was flush, and his tail wagged as best it could underneath him. He watched Benji reach over and pull a small packet of lube from the back pocket of his jeans. He broke the pack, squeezing a dollop onto his fingers and slipping them between his cheeks working the space under his fluffy tail. He squatted and hovered above Allen’s member, working another finger into the tight pucker.
When he felt loose enough, Benji returned his focus to Allen. His hands stroked the beagle’s shoulder, slowly massaging down his breasts, playfully squeezing his plump stomach, and finally grabbing Allen’s pulsing cock.
Benji poured lube into the palm of his free hand. He stroked Allen’s member, slowly caressing it from tip to base. With his other hand he continued caressing and kneading Allen’s chest and caressing his nipples in slow circles. 
Allen’s mind felt hazy. The warmth and sensations invading his body were overwhelming. His whole body shook with pleasure.
Benji gripped Allen’s cock firmly, positioning the tip between his cheeks. Allen watched the wolf’s tailhole swallow his member, gasping and moaning lowly. The sensation felt exquisite. Every nerve of his body was on fire. He imagined the snow around him melting from the heat he released.
Benji went to work, riding Allen’s cock. He moaned and groaned out in bliss. One eye closed, he kept a steady rhythm riding up and down on the mound of flesh below him. He felt full in a way he hadn’t been before. 
He began stroking slowly over his own manhood. He stimulated every inch as he huffed and puffed. He loved running a paw pad over the head of his dick and causing tinges of startling sensation. Allen tugged on his balls with the other hand, fondling each round orb. 
When pleasure overwhelmed him suddenly, Benji moaned, calling out to Allen before shooting a thick string of cum from his prick.
Allen tried to catch what he could from the wolf’s load. The first rope splashed across his muzzle, and the second he caught right into his mouth. He swallowed the mix of salty and sweet cream, almost coffee-like in taste. He was ready to catch more, but the load was short-lived with the rest sputtering onto his jacket.
Allen yipped as Benji pulled off his yearning member. The cold air licked and tickled at his freed flesh for mere moments before his dick was fully engrossed by the thick ass of gray-furred passion. Allen grunted and ground his hips instinctively into Benji.
The moment at last drew close. Allen came first, letting out a low earthy moan and loosing shot after shot into Benji. The wolf felt the shots and slapped himself back onto the base of the canine’s cock. He felt Allen’s member pulsing and shooting all over his insides, and it sent Benji over the edge. He howled and emptied more of his hefty nuts onto his mounted friend’s muzzle. He continued to splatter blast after hefty blast into Allen’s face, eventually slowing to a drool across the beagle’s chest and making a mess.
Benji let out a chuckle as he saw the wide-eyed expression splayed across Allen’s face. The chuckle turned into full laughter when the beagle smiled and lapped cum off his chops. The pair cleaned up quickly, using Allen’s cum-covered jacket to sop up the mess. The beagle tossed it in his bag, carefully tucking the dirty parts inside the clean parts.
The two settled down, firmly planted next to each other in the snow. A creeping silence was forming between the pair, uncomfortable and filled with questions. 
“So, what do we do now?” Benji broke first, a look of concern staring down at Allen. “We both knew this couldn’t last.”
“We could stay in touch,” Allen said, looking at the concerned wolf. “Maybe correspond?” He took a long pause. Each breath felt like they were hours apart. Allen wouldn’t lie to himself—Benji was growing on him. “Would you want to try to explore this?”
“You mean long distance?”
“Yeah, if you’d want to try?”
“I wouldn’t be against it. What were you thinking?” The two went back and forth. Allen introduced Benji to the Barker app, and they traded phone numbers. Polite conversation turned to snuggling and whispers, and then eventually the whispers faded away. Allen curled under Benji’s arm, nuzzling against his chest. Benji snuggled him back, resting his head on the beagle’s.
Allen left first, chittering about needing to fix things at home, and Benji followed him, returning similar sentiments. Their hands were the last things left touching. Neither wanted to break the hold. When they went their separate ways, Allen wiped tears from his eyes, and Benji gulped down a lump forming in his throat.
*		*		*
	Benji got home and found his stuff gathered by the door. The lights were out. The house was silent. He shivered from the cold and emotions overwhelming him. He gripped his old duffel. Something felt strange looking at his hand. He flung the bag over his shoulder and creaked the front door open.
	“Please don’t go.”’
	Benji craned his neck back, seeing the slim form of his step-mother framed in the moonlight. She looked similar to how she had at dinner except her hair was tied back into a ponytail, and he could see more graying flecks in her face. “I know your Dad can be… grating, but please give him more time.”
	The wolf dropped his bag back onto the floor and turned to face her. “I don’t want to deal with him. He hurts me, you know. Not physically, but… he makes me smaller.” He looked down at the pads on his paws. “Every time he opens his mouth or takes a sip of beer or slaps a fist on the table or tells me to be quiet, I feel like a kid again. He knocks me around and… I can’t deal with that anymore, Calli.”
	“I know I can’t change your mind. There’s a lot there that I can’t understand, but I want to.”
	A long silence hung in the air. Benji just stood in the doorway at the precipice of his old life and his new one. “Really?” His voice was shaky, and his mind flashed back to the wispy, gray wolf he’d warmly greet every morning in this house. 
	“Of course, Benji.” The calico stepped lightly across the wood paneling, reaching her arms under the wolf’s and hugging him, her head pressed warmly on his back. He grabbed her arms and the two stood in the darkness. Benji’s fear melted away under the heat of the hug. It permeated his fur, digging deep. He didn’t feel so alone anymore.
*		*		*
	Allen’s key didn’t fit the front door anymore. He stood in the cold, trying his best to make it work. After the sixth attempt he was shaking, and he had turned to leave when he heard the front door open. His mother was standing there in her pajamas, the warm light inside highlighting her. She was holding a bowl and kneading a beige blob with a wooden spoon.
	“Allen?” she asked, continuing to massage the dough gently, “come inside. It’s cold out here.” The beagle pushed Allen inside and directed him straight into the kitchen. The room was a mess: a pile of dishes filled the sink, flour was scattered on the counter tops, plastic bags holding leftovers sat on the kitchen table. “As usual your Uncle Hector forgot to take his leftovers, and the fridge is packed. Are you still hungry?”
	Allen didn’t say anything, and he didn’t fight her when she zipped open a bag full of ham and pushed it over to him with a fork. He took the utensil and shoved a piece of meat into his muzzle, chewing on the mouthful as his mother took a seat next to him.
	“I’m sorry about the sweater, sweetie. It was rude of me,” she spoke softly, scrubbing at a bowl with mashed potatoes crusted to the sides. 
	“It’s fine. I overreacted. Too much going on is all.”
	“Oh yeah, what happened?”
	“Well… it’s just… I don’t even know where to start.”
	“Go ahead, honey. Take your time.”
	“I spent three days on a train. It’s draining to me, and I started to wonder if I’m moving fast enough.”
	“So that’s what freaked you out?”
 	“No, it was just the start, Douglas and Maria pushed me more and then the sweater… that sweater, it just set me over the edge.”
	“Honey, I’m so sorry. We forgot you were coming today. We should’ve been ready.” She looked down at her son, a cloud still firmly hanging over his head. “This place should be your sanctuary. Never feel like you need to protect yourself here. If this ever happens again, tell me and I will throw every ridiculous friend and family member from this house.” She nudged him softly with an elbow. “I’ll be your bodyguard, okay?” He cracked a little smile, and she smiled back at him. Allen hadn’t felt welcome, but something in his mom’s eyes told him that everything was going to be okay.