Beneath the Neon Moon by Theda Black

blurred and hurrying down the walk. The cat slowed into alley cat slink as he got closer, his tail held in an elegant S-curve. Zach picked him up, the tightness in his chest loosening. He rubbed his finger against Jasper's cheek, feeling the stiff bristle of whiskers and the soft fur beneath.
    "Think he purrs loud enough?" Mal asked. Water sparkled like diamonds in his hair. Jasper tilted his head into Zach's finger and rubbed.
    "Jasper, meet our new wolf," Zach said.
    "It's not a joke, Zach." Mal's voice was soft.
    Zach stepped closer to him. "We've got nearly a month to figure out what to do next. Which is a hell of a lot more time than we had in that fucking cellar. It feels like enough time to deal with anything."
    Mal shook his head. "You made it out. It's over for you, you know? You don't have to stick with me."
    "I know I don't."
    Mal looked at him. He held up his hands and opened his mouth, ready to argue.
    "Just shut up, okay?" Zach looked into his eyes and waited.
    Mal dropped his hands. The corner of his mouth lifted. "Okay."
    Suddenly Zach could breathe again. He hid it by looking at Jasper, running a thumb in under his chin and rubbing back and forth. Jasper purred louder, little round head tilted blissfully.
    Mal sighed, reaching out to rub behind the cat's ears. Zach put him down and he ran up the stairs ahead of them, then turned and watched expectantly. The white blaze on his face shone.
    Zach turned to look at Mal. "Coming?" he asked, holding out his hand.
    "Yeah." Mal reached out. His fingers curled warm around Zach's.
     
     
    THE END
     
    ******

 
     
     
     
     
    Author's Notes
     
     
    Jasper is a real cat, not made up. At one time he was a homeless scavenger with a painful eye infection. Now he's fat and happy and loved. His balls hit the chopping block some time ago, but they were as described in the story, if you care to know: big. Like his feet.
    Since I was very young, I have traveled back and forth over parts of Florida that are as I (briefly) described in Zach's final flashback. I wanted to write about the area as I remembered it. I loved it and still do, even though it's hotter than hell.
    The story came about because I love paying fan service to some freaky, overwrought, unbelievable, and well-loved (by me) ideas. Two men in a basement, chained together, in terrible danger, falling in love in the middle of their ordeal (and I may not ever get over that falling in love in the middle of a cellar thing during a kidnapping—it's a gem),  and then: one guy EATS THE OTHER'S INTESTINES. Or threatens to do it, anyway. It made me happy, and I had plenty of encouragement and cheerleading from a very good friend.
    I figured I needed two lovely guys to carry the story (and got them, I think). The challenge then was to give it heart without it all sounding too ridiculous. If the story succeeds, it's because of those two. I'll probably come visit them again. There's plenty of story left for them.
     
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