Warmth.  Fuzz.  Another naked body against his own.  A wonderful feeling to wake up to.  Martin exhaled softly, letting out a contented sigh.  His hips rolled of their own accord, rubbing his sleep boner between Robbie’s butt cheeks.  His sleep was interrupted by his nocturnal emission.  Squirt, squirt, squirt.  It had to be a dream, right?

Against his will, Martin opened his eyes.  It was still dark out.  Heck of a sex dream, though the details were already retreating.  His eyes bulged as he noticed the wetness of his groin.  Crap, did he spooge all over Robbie?!

He reached a paw between his legs.  Confirmed: Robbie’s lower back was covered in wolf jizz.  He’d even gotten some into his tummy fur.  That just wouldn’t do.  He sighed and shook the sleeping fox next to him.

“Robbie,” Martin whispered.  “Robs, wake up.”

The fox muttered in his sleep.

“Dude, this is important.  Wake up!” Martin hissed.  He shook the fox harder.

“Mmmmf… I’m awake, I’m awake,” Robbie groaned.  “What is it?”

“Don’t be mad at me, okay?” Martin whispered.

The fox’s ears perked.  “What time is it?” he muttered.

“Not important,” Martin hissed.  “But, uh… I mighta spooged all over your back.”

“What?!”  Robbie turned around and glared at the wolf.  In the darkness, Martin could make out the mixture of disgust and anger in his friend’s expression.  “Dude, what the heck?!” Robbie hissed.

“I didn’t mean to!” Martin whispered.  He blushed and lowered his ears.  “It just sorta… happened… in my sleep.”

Robbie sighed and shook his head.  “Ugh… well, you better help me clean it out.  I don’t want crusty wolf spooge in my fur!”

“I will, I will, geeze,” Martin replied.  He unzipped the sleeping bag and crawled out.  “C’mon, grab your towel, we can sneak down to the lake and clean up.”

The fox looked at him incredulously.  “You expect me to just go out there naked?” he asked.

The wolf gave him a sheepish grin.  “Do you wanna put a shirt and pants on with my cum all over you?”

Robbie pouted.  “Fine,” he muttered.

It took a bit of fumbling in the dark before the boys found their towels.  Martin noted that Robbie grabbed some clothes.  He guessed the fox planned to put them on after their little dip.  The wolf had no such plan.  He crawled out of the tent, his towel wrapped around his shoulders, and stood up, feeling the cool night air against his fur.  It felt goooood.

A few moments later, Robbie emerged.  The wolf grinned at him, then grabbed his friend’s paw.

“C’mon,” Martin whispered.  “Let’s go.”

The two boys silently crept through the camp.  Moonlight illuminated their path, the dim white glow giving the campground a ghostly feel.  A soft breeze set the leaves rustling, the trees whispering secrets to each other as the two nude boys passed beneath their boughs.  The wolf grinned.  He was in on their conspiracy this evening, a fresh rumor for the trees to spread.

In no time at all, the boys worked their way through the trees to the edge of the lake.  The moon shimmered in the surface, its visage dancing as the wind stirred the water.

Robbie whistled softly.  “It’s beautiful at night, isn’t it?” the fox whispered.

“Yeah, I guess,” Martin replied.  He tossed his towel over a tree branch and leapt right into the water.

It wasn’t as deep there as he had expected.  His footpaws hit the bottom as the water reached his waist.  It felt warmer than when they swam during the day, but maybe that was just because the air above was cooler.  He trudged a little deeper in, then turned around and waved to Robbie.

“C’mon in, bud, the water’s fine!” Martin giggled.

The fox was far more hesitant.  He gingerly tested the water with a toe before stepping in.

Martin rolled his eyes and walked up to his friend.  “Robs, we’re not gonna get that spooge off ya if you just stand there.  C’mon!”  He grabbed the fox’s paws and pulled him in up to his waist.

“Ack!  Martin, it’s coooold!” Robbie whined.

“It’s not that bad,” the wolf replied.  “Here, lemme help you clean up.”

Robbie blushed as Martin rubbed his wet paws over his bottom and lower back.  The wolf grinned at him, then slipped around behind him to get a better view of the mess he’d made.  He was a little surprised to see just how much cum he’d gotten on Robbie.  How did he even still have that much in him?!  Well, whatever.  A little bit of water and scrubbing, and his milky emission released its hold on the fox’s fur.

“Are you almost done back there?” Robbie asked after a minute.

The wolf clicked his tongue.  “Do you want me to be fast, or thorough?” he asked.

The fox crossed his arms and pouted.  “Both.  I don’t like being out here this late.”

“Such a lil goody goody,” Martin chided.  But he picked up his pace, making sure that he got all of his seed out of his friend’s fur.  “There, I think that’s all of it.”

Robbie reached back and rubbed over his back where the wolf had been rubbing.  “Good enough, I guess,” he said.  Without a moment’s hesitation, he headed for shore.

Despite the import of his task, touching his friend had gotten Martin excited.  He registered his boner as he followed his friend.  As his groin rose above the water, the cool air hitting his wet shaft alerted him to his arousal.  He looked down at his genitals in disbelief.  “Really?  Gods, why you can’t just chill out?”

“Who are you talking to?” Robbie asked.  He turned around and followed the wolf’s gaze.  “Oh.”

Martin giggled and wiggled his hips.  “Oh, just my little friend here.”

It was the fox’s turn to roll his eyes.  “Weirdo.”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t like it!” Martin shot.  “You do like it… dontcha?”

The fox climbed out of the water and grabbed his towel.  He started drying himself off without looking at the wolf.

Uh oh.  Had Martin pushed it too far?  Doubt rose up in his mind.  He tried so shake it off as he emerged from the water, but the longer the silence stretched, the more certain he became that maybe he’d insulted his friend.

At long last, the silence broke.  “I guess,” Robbie muttered.

Well, that was good enough for now.  Martin finished drying himself off and wrapped his towel around his waist.  As he’d suspected, Robbie had gotten himself dressed.  “Let’s get back to our tent.”

The boys set off side by side back towards camp.  As they worked their way back through the underbrush toward camp, Martin picked up a sound that definitely wasn’t from nature.  He paused and perked his ears.  It sounded like somefur sniffling.  He looked around, trying to pinpoint the location.

“Martin, what are you doing?” Robbie hissed.

“Shh,” the wolf replied.  He turned to his right and crouched low, listening.  Yes, it was definitely coming from that direction.  He set off, working through the underbrush as quietly as he could.

It didn’t take long to find the source.  The ball of fluff barely stood out in the darkness, save for the white puffs of his fur.  Martin knelt down next to the boy and placed a paw on his shoulder.  “Hey, you okay?”

The boy gasped and stiffened up at the touch.  His head whipped around, bringing Martin face to face with Chuck.  Tear tracks stained his cheeks.  He looked utterly terrified.

“Chuck?!” Martin whispered.

The pup turned away and hugged his legs tighter to his chest.  “G-go away,” he muttered.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Martin whispered.  “What are you doing out here?  Are you okay?”

The border collie shook his head.

A rustling behind the wolf announced the arrival of his friend.  “What’s going on?” Robbie whispered.

What to do?  “Robbie, you know where the counselors’ cabins are, right?” Martin asked.

“Uh, I think so,” the fox replied.  “Why?”

“Go get a counselor,” Martin commanded.  “I’m gonna take Chuckie here back to our tent.

The fox raised an eyebrow, but nodded and disappeared into the forest.  Martin grabbed Chuck’s arm and tugged him up.

“C’mon, Chuckie, come with me,” Martin whispered.

“W-why?” Chuck asked.

The wolf groaned.  “Because the forest floor sucks.  Come on, walk with me.  Talk to me.  What’s up?”

Chuck stared down at his footpaws as the wolf led him through the trees toward the tents.  “I-i-it’s nothing,” he whispered.

“It’s not nothing if it’s enough to make you run off into the woods and cry,” Martin replied.  “You don’t have to tell me.  But will you tell the counselor when they get here?”

The pup didn’t reply.  Guess he’d have to see.  As they emerged from the woods, he was glad that the spot he’d picked was more on the outskirts of the camping area.  He guided the border collie to his tent, and sat him down outside it.

“I’m gonna put some pants on,” Martin whispered.  He climbed into the tent, shedding his towel as he went, and pulled on his shorts.  When he emerged, the pup was sitting exactly where Martin had left him.  He sat down next to the pup and put an arm around him.

The pup began trembling hard as Martin pulled him close.  He sniffled, like he was ready to start crying again.  What the heck had scared this kid so much?

“You can talk to me, ya know,” Martin whispered.  “I won’t laugh at you or judge or anything.”

Silence fell between the two.  The breeze picked up.  The trees’ whispers became louder.  What secrets were they sharing?

A little voice broke through the silence, barely loud enough to be audible.  “M-m-my tent mate w-w-was makin’ f-f-fun a’ me…”

“Ugh.  That’s no fun,” Martin whispered.  “What was he saying?”

Again, a pause before the pup replied.  “H-h-he called me a b-b-baby… ‘cause of my p-p-plushie… a-a-and…”  He clammed up at that.

“It’s okay, Chuck.  You can tell me,” Martin whispered.

Before the wolf could get another word out of the pup, Robbie returned with a counselor in tow, the squirrel Jerry.

“Alright, pups, why the little pow wow?” the adult asked.

Martin looked at Chuck, then up at the counselor.  “We heard him running past our tent and I found him crying in the woods.  I think he’s having a bad time.”

The squirrel got down on his knees near the pups and rested a paw on Chuck’s shoulder.  “Aww.  I’m sorry to hear that.  What’s been going on?  Miss your folks, little guy?”

Martin leaned over and put a paw to the squirrel’s ear.  “His tent mate’s been bullying him.”

“Ooooh,” Jerry said.  “Is that right?  Chuck, would you like to come with me and talk?  We can do it away from the other campers, and no one will know what we talk about.  How’s that sound?”

The pup’s shivers intensified.  He looked at the squirrel as though he’d just declared his intent to murder him.

Jerry leaned back a little.  “It’ll be okay.  If there’s someone you’d be more comfortable with, I can wake them up.  Do you want to come with me?”

Chuck looked at the wolf.  His face betrayed abject terror.

“What if me or Robbie went with you?” Martin suggested.

The pup seemed to relax a little at that suggestion, and looked away.  “M-maybe Robbie?”

“Yeah, I can do that,” Robbie replied.

Jerry stood up and held a paw out to the pup.  “I suppose we can do that.  Come on, kiddo, let’s go for a little walk.”

Martin watched as the pup stood.  Jerry took the pup’s paw and led him away, Robbie following close behind.  The fox glanced back at the wolf as he went.  Robbie raised an eyebrow and cocked his head toward the pup.  Martin could only shrug.  He watched the trio walk away, then crawled back into the tent.  What the hell was up with that boy?

********

Sunlight woke up the wolf again.  He stretched out in the sleeping bag, noticing the absence of his friend.  Hadn’t they gone to bed together?

Martin sat up and rubbed his eyes, then looked around the tent.  He spied Robbie next to him, in his own sleeping bag, and on the other side of him, a third sleeping bag with a little black and white head sticking out.

Memories came back to him.  The swim, washing away his nocturnal emission from Robbie’s back, finding Chuck in the woods.  The others must have come back after they’d talked to Jerry.  Guess Chuck’d decided to tent up with them, instead.  He wasn’t complaining, though it was a little tight with three.

He wanted to wake the others, but he had no idea how late they’d been out.  May as well let them sleep a little longer.  The wolf extricated himself from his sleeping bag and pulled on a t-shirt, then climbed out of the tent.

It was still early, but despite that, some other boys were already up.  Might as well hit the latrine before breakfast.

As he made his way toward the bathrooms, he came upon a small group of boys.  Three of them, a goat, a hyena, and a weasel, were snickering at what must have been a funny story that the fourth, a german shepherd, was telling.  He slowed his pace and paused as he got up to them.

“Hey, guys,” Martin said.  “What’s so funny?”

The weasel took a breath to stop his snickering long enough to answer.  “Tyler was telling us about his tent mate.”

“He’s such a baby!” the goat declared.

The wolf crossed his arms.  “And what makes you say that?”

“He sleeps with a stuffed animal like a two year old,” the shepherd, Tyler, said.  “He even wears diapers!  Can you believe that?”

The wolf flicked an ear.  That was kind of funny, sure, but he had a sinking feeling about where this was going.  “And, uh, who’s your tent mate?”

Tyler shrugged.  “Some border collie kid.  I think his name’s Chuck or something?  Total little sissy fag.”

Martin curled his paws into fists.  “That ‘fag’ is my friend,” Martin said.

“OoooOOOOOooooo,” the other boys sang.

“Oh, are you a fag like him, then?” Tyler mocked.  “Maybe if you ask nice he’ll suck your dick!”

“You take that back, you big jerk!” Martin yelled.

“Big words for such a little man,” Tyler said.  He stepped forward.  The shepherd stood a full head above Martin.  His paws connected with Martin’s shoulders, pushing him back a pace.

In a flash, Martin’s fist connected with the shepherd’s chin.  The other boys gasped and took a step back.

“Wrong move, punk,” Tyler said.

Before Martin could register what was happening, the shepherd charged.  Martin landed hard on his back in the dirt.  The older boy dropped down on top of him, pinning him under the older boy’s weight.  The wolf squirmed, dodging the first punch Tyler aimed at his head.  As he wound up for a second, a brown blur tackled the boy off him.

“You stay off my friend!”

Martin pushed himself up, his head spinning from his hard landing.  Carter had the shepherd pinned face down in the dirt a few feet away, his arm twisted around behind his back.  The other boys whooped and hollered, cheering on the fighting boys.

A counselor’s voice broke through the din.  “Hey, hey, break it up!”

The wolf whipped his head around, losing all sense of space as he tried to see who was coming.  Instead, he hit the ground again, thankfully not as hard this time.  His vision blurred.

Two hazy faces appeared before him.

“Are you alright?” said one.  Who it was, Martin hadn’t a clue.

“Martin, speak to me, buddy!”  That one was definitely Carter.  His face retreated, probably at the urging of a counselor.

The wolf shut his eyes and sat up again, nursing the back of his head where he’d hit the ground.  “I think so.  Just a little dazed is all.”  He opened his eyes again, and the world came into sharper focus.  One of the counselors, an adult otter, was kneeling at his side, his attention focused on the wolf.  He saw Carter a few feet beyond.  The other boys seemed to have scattered.

“Mind telling me what that was all about?” the counselor said.

“He was making fun of my friend, and then he pushed me,” Martin said.

“The other guy started it,” Carter added.  “I watched the whole thing.”

Another counselor walked over, his arms crossed.  Martin immediately recognized Jerry.  “You and your friend are just magnets for trouble, aren’t you?”

“That was Chuck’s tent mate,” Martin said.  “He called Chuck a sissy fag.”

Jerry’s demeanor darkened considerably.  “Oh did he, now?”

“Yeah!” Martin said.  “Just ‘cause he sleeps with a plushie.  He said he als—”

The squirrel raised a paw.  “Hang on there, bud.  Why don’t you come with me and tell me all about what happened, away from the other boys?”

The wolf blinked.  “Uh, sure,” he said.

********

The mess hall was bursting with activity when Martin arrived.  The dull roar of boys being boys assaulted his ears.  He beamed as he made his way to the breakfast line, gathering up a sampling of his favorite breakfast foods.  Today was going to be a good day.  The wolf could feel it.

Once loaded up with grub, he made for the back of the hall, toward the table that Robbie had gravitated towards.  He found the chubby fox there, along with Chuck, the raccoon boy Larry, the squirrel Steve, and, much to his surprise, Carter.

“Hey, guys,” Martin said.  He slid onto the bench next to Robbie, across from the gazelle.  “Didn’t expect I’d see you here, Carter.”

The gazelle grinned at him.  “Well, after that little scrap this morning, I thought I should keep an eye on ya,” he said.

“Hey, I can handle myself!” Martin protested.

“Suuuuure you can,” Carter replied.  He tore a piece off a slice of toast and tossed it into his muzzle.  “Whatever you say, bud.”

“I can, though!” Martin said.  “That bully just caught me off guard, is all.”

An elbow collided with his side, knocking a bit of the wind from him.  “Spare me the puffery, Marts,” Robbie said.  “You don’t have anything to prove.”

The wolf growled softly, but shrugged.  He couldn’t stay mad at his friend.  He picked up a sausage and bit half of it off, then glanced around the fox toward the slight border collie.  “So how’re you doin’, Chuck?  You didn’t run across that d-bag again, did you?”

Steve gasped.  “That’s a bad word!” he said.

Martin stuck his tongue out at the squirrel, then returned his attention to Chuck.  The boy said nothing.  “Well, anyway,” Martin said, “I’m gonna stick with you today.  Watch out for ya.”

“And I’ll hang with you guys, too,” Carter said.  “Mostly to watch out for Martin.”

“Please, I can handle myself,” Martin said.

Robbie rolled his eyes.  “Martin, just let him stick around.  Besides, he’s kinda cool.”

“Only kinda?” Carter said.  “I’m hurt!”  He leaned back on his bench, his hands clutching at his heart.

Martin giggled.  “Robbie calling you ‘kinda cool’ is about the highest praise you can get!”

“Am I kinda cool?” Larry asked.

“And what about me?” Steve asked.

The wolf grinned.  He tore into his breakfast while his friend desperately deflected questions from their other two camp companions.

Carter leaned over the table and tapped Martin’s shoulder.  “Mean one, aren’t you?” he hissed.

“Only to furs I love,” Martin replied.

The gazelle burst out laughing and sat back in his seat.  “Word, my dude.  Word.  I bust my bros’ chops all the time.”

The boys’ conversation ran into a blur between mouthfuls of egg and cereal.  As breakfast wound down, Carter was the first to lead the charge toward the day’s activities.  Larry and Steve followed close on his heels, prodding Robbie along with them.  Martin held back to escort Chuck.  The pup hugged his tail as he approached the wolf.

“Come on, bud,” Martin said.  He held a paw out to the border collie.  “Let’s get going.”

The pup whimpered softly.  “Y-y-you don’t h-h-have to st-st-stay with me,” he stuttered.

“I know,” the wolf replied.  “I want to.”  He looked around the mess hall as it emptied out, then leaned in close to the pup.  “Look, I can’t say I get why, but like… I like you, Chuck.  I know you’re like, my age, but let me be your big brother, okay?  I’ve never had a little brother, and I… I dunno.  I just wanna look out for you.  Okay?”

Chuck was silent for a long while.  The mess hall steadily emptied.

Martin sighed and grabbed the pup’s paw.  “Come on, let’s get going, Chuck.  Don’t wanna miss out on the fun, right?”  He started off, and the pup followed along behind him.

The wolf squinted as he emerged into the morning sunlight.  He brought his free paw up to shield his eyes as he looked around.  Several counselors were herding the boys along to the big field.

“Come on, Chuck!” Martin said.  He tugged the pup along with him, joining the mass of boyfurs making for the field, his eyes peeled for his friends.

He managed to find them as he approached the gathering crowd.  Carter’s antlers were a great marker, standing considerably higher than the other boyfurs.  The fact that Robbie was with him told the wolf that the gazelle must have slowed down to let the fox catch up.

A high pitch whine rose up as one of the counselors struggled with a megaphone.  The boys with more sensitive ears visibly cringed, Martin included.

“Alright, boys, it’s time for… parachute games!”

A mixture of cheers and groans rose from the gathered boys.  Martin gritted his teeth.  The parachute activities were always his least favorite.  It was just so boring!  But he could deal with it for just an hour or two.

To the wolf’s surprise, it was a lot more tolerable this year.  Probably helped that he had Robbie at one side, and Carter at his other.  His best friend from home, and the coolest kid he’d ever met at camp, made everything a ton better.  Despite that, he was relieved when it was finally over.

The obstacle course came next.  Robbie and Chuck both seemed concerned about that, but Martin and Carter had no problem encouraging and motivating the boys.

Lunch was uneventful and unmemorable.  Jokes and conversation that barely stuck in the wolf’s mind passed like a blur.  The afternoon was similarly low key.  Arts and crafts, the bane of his existence, passed by somewhat quickly.  Chuck proved remarkably adept at fashioning items out of yarn and popsicle sticks.

Come dinner time, though, something felt off.  As Martin sat down with his friends, he looked around the mess hall.  From a few tables away, he briefly met eyes with a weasel.  The boy looked away once Martin saw him.  The wolf stared for a few seconds longer before turning his attention to his food.

“That kid looks familiar, doesn’t he?” Carter said.

“Yeah,” Martin said.  “I think he was one of the boys who was making fun of Chuck.”

“We’ll keep our eyes on him,” Carter said.  “He looks shifty.”

Robbie cleared his throat.  “Come on, dude, don’t be so speciesist.  Just because he’s a weasel doesn’t mean he’s evil.”

“No, but he WAS making fun of our friend,” Martin said.  “I don’t trust him.”

“Sometimes species stereotypes exist for a reason,” Carter added.  “My dad told me not too long ago that there’s usually a grain of truth in them.  Yeah, sometimes it’s something else entirely, but others it can be self-reinforcing.”  He took a long sip of his juice.  “Just watch yourself around him.”

Martin shook his head and prodded at his mac and cheese with his fork.  “Is mac and cheese usually this squishy?” he asked.

“The pasta’s a little overcooked,” Robbie said between mouthfuls.  “It still tastes good, the texture’s just off.”

“Gives it a weird mouth feel,” Steve affirmed.

Carter laughed and playfully nudged the squirrel’s shoulder.  “I thought squirrels were only familiar with the mouth feel of nuts!”

“Oh no,” Robbie muttered.

Martin’s heart dropped.  Jokes like that were bound to start popping up sooner or later.  He just had to play it cool.  Not like anyone would be able to know about HIS interest in nuts.

“Oh, I LOVE nuts!” Steve said.  “Cashews, walnuts, peanuts, pistachios…”

Larry groaned and put a paw over his eyes.  “Steve, I don’t think those are the kinda nuts he was talking about.”

The squirrel tilted his head.  “Huh?  What other kinda nuts are th- OH!”  He whipped his tail wildly behind him as the gazelle burst out laughing.  “Hey, that’s not funny!”  He crossed his arms and glared at Carter.

“Sorry, dude, couldn’t resist,” Carter said.  He offered a paw to the squirrel.  “No hard feelings?”

Steve’s brow furrowed.  “I get enough of that at school.  Just ‘cause I have two dads…”  He pouted and stared down at his plate.

The gazelle recoiled slightly.  “Oh!  I didn’t know.  So sorry, Steve,” he said.  “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.  That’s cool that you have two dads, though.  Sometimes I wish I had two dads.  My mom can be a real pain sometimes, but my dad’s cool.”

That got the squirrel perking up a little.  “Yeah, my dads are pretty great.  Papa always makes time for me when he gets home from work, and Dad works from home, so I get to see him lots, and he’ll help me finish my homework so we can play games together.  They’re pretty great!  And Dad’s a great cook,” he said.  Steve’s excitement was palpable.  “Soooooo much yummier than the food here.”

“Gosh, and my dad can burn a bowl of cereal,” Robbie joked.  “He’s cool, though.  My parents both work from home a couple days a week, so I get to see them a lot.  My mom’s the cook in our house.  Maybe I should ask her to teach me…”

“Do it!” Steve said.  “My Dad’s been teachin’ me.  It’s a good skill ta know, straight or gay!”

Martin lowered his head and ears as the others discussed their parents.  He could feel a weight in his stomach.  Just thinking about his dad could be painful some days, and he had been looking forward to camp for an opportunity not to think about them.

“What about you, Marts?  What do you think of your parents?” Carter asked.

The wolf growled.  “My dad’s a dick,” he muttered.  “Mom’s okay, I guess.”

“Harsh,” Carter said.  “What about you, Chuckie?  How are your parents?”

“What?!”  The border collie pup whimpered.  Martin looked up from his tray to look at the small black and white pup.  “I, umm… well, my mommy’s nice, I guess,” Chuck whispered.

The gazelle stifled a laugh.  “What about your dad.”

“I… umm… I don’t have one,” Chuck whispered.  “My mom lives with her boyfriend, but he’s… I dunno…”

Robbie put an arm around the pup.  “It’s okay, Chuck.  Some furs just have crappy parents.  But hey, at least you have some new friends now, right?”

The pup seemed to perk up a bit.  “I guess.”

Inwardly, Martin let out a sigh of relief.  Steve had inadvertently saved him from having to defend himself from his discomfort at the gay jokes.  Though he had to admit, he was a little jealous of the squirrel.  Not only having two dads, but dads that clearly loved and cared about him?  What he wouldn’t give to just have ONE dad who wasn’t a total douche.  

At least he didn’t seem alone in not wanting to talk about his parents.  He felt a weird sense of kinship with Chuck there.  Though at the same time, he couldn’t imagine not having two parents.  Even if his dad wasn’t the best dad, he was at least there.  That had to count for something, right?

********

“Night, guys!”

Martin waved to the retreating gazelle and squirrel, then slipped into his tent.  Chuck had retreated to the far corner as Robbie laid out the sleeping bags.

“We all set for tonight?” Martin asked.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Robbie replied.  “Gonna be a bit more cozy tonight.  But I’m guessing you won’t mind that, right, Marts?”

The wolf grinned at the fox.  “You know it!”  He fixed his eyes on the border collie in the corner.  “You ready to settle in for bed, bud?”

A soft squeak greeted the wolf.  Chuck hugged his tail, shivering slightly in the corner.  “I-I-I mean… I-I-I guess?” he muttered.

Martin giggled and pulled his shirt off.  “I usually sleep naked.  But if you mind, I can keep my boxers on.”

The pup’s eyes bulged.  He mouthed silently, nothing but a strained squeak coming out.

“Maybe you should keep your boxers on, Marts,” Robbie said.  The fox stretched out, tossing his t-shirt on top of his backpack, then fumbled with the button on his jeans.  “Ugh… hate these jeans,” he muttered.

“So why’d you bring ‘em?” Martin asked.  He rolled his eyes and crawled over to the fox.  “Here, let me help.”

Robbie gasped as the wolf batted away his paws.  “Hey, I can do that myself!” he protested.

Martin grinned as he deftly unbuttoned and unzipped the fox’s pants.  “Yeah, but I’m better at it.”

He sat back as he unbuttoned his own shorts.  Without a care in the world, he pulled them off, making sure to keep his boxers on.  No good in freaking out Chuck, after all.  He glanced over at the border collie.  It looked like he hadn’t moved.

“You okay, Chuck?”

Robbie had beaten him to the punch.  Probably better that way.  The pup did seem more comfortable around the fox.

“Do you wanna just sleep in your clothes tonight?” Martin asked.

Chuck started whining.  Maybe that wasn’t the right question.

“B-b-but… w-what if I wet?” Chuck whispered.

“Well, you’ve got pullups or whatever, right?” Martin whispered.  “Just put one on.”

“We can even turn around so you have some privacy,” Robbie added.

Chuck hugged his tail tighter.  His body trembled.

Martin grabbed Robbie’s arm and tugged on it.  “Come on, Robs, let’s turn around and give him some space.”

An awkward semi-silence fell in the tent as Robbie and Martin sat together.  They could hear the shuffling as Chuck changed.  The wolf balled his paws into fists.  He wished he could chat with Robbie, something to break the tension while Chuck was getting himself ready, but for the life of him, he couldn’t think of a single thing to chat with his friend about.

Thankfully, it didn’t take the pup long.

“O-okay,” Chuck whispered.  “I’m changed.”

The other boys turned back toward him.  As Martin suspected, the pup had pulled his shorts back on.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed if you’d rather change into pajamas or something,” Martin said.  “Unlike that dick you were sharing a tent with before, we’re not gonna make fun of you or anything.”

The border collie trembled.  Maybe that was the wrong thing to say.

“I used to wet the bed,” Robbie whispered.  “Until just like a year ago.”

Martin perked his ears.  Chuck did seem to relax when Robbie said that.  The fox was on to something!

“R-really?” Chuck whispered.

“Yeah,” Robbie replied.  “I used to make sure that Martin was busy in the bathroom before I changed into my pajamas so I could get my pullups on.”

The wolf chuckled.  “Well, some of our sleepovers make a lot more sense now,” the wolf said.  He shook his head, then looked at the border collie.  “I still wet the bed until I was… I think seven?”

“I still have accidents every once in a while,” Robbie added.

Martin bit his tongue.  His gut told him to rib the fox about it, but he knew that doing it in front of Chuck right now was a bad idea.  Might have to make a note of that for later, though.  Can’t miss an opportunity for good-natured ribbing.

It seemed to have worked.  The tension visibly left Chuck’s body.  “S-so it’s not so bad… th-that I still do?” he whispered.

“Of course not,” Robbie said.

“You’re still our friend either way,” Martin added.  “Doesn’t bother us at all.”

The pup nodded.  He crawled over to his sleeping bag and unzipped it.  Martin made for his own sleeping bag, but paused when Chuck cleared his throat.

“D… d-do you wanna see?” Chuck whispered.

Martin blinked.  “See what?” he asked.

The pup blushed deeply and turned away.  “N-nevermind.”

“Didn’t you say you had a plushie with you?” Robbie asked.  “Can we see that?”

Chuck turned and looked over at the fox, half way towards lying down in his sleeping bag.  “Umm… I-I-I guess?”  He reached over to his backpack and dragged it over, then produced from it a stuffed rabbit.  It was wearing pajamas with faded little spots.  Its once white fur was dull and tinged with brown and gray, the signs of a well loved toy.

“D’aww!  He’s cute!” Robbie said.

“What’s his name?” Martin asked.

The pup hugged his plushie protectively.  “M-Mr. Stuffy,” he whispered.

Martin snorted.  He caught his laughter before it got farther than that.  “Good name,” he said.

Seemed like he caught himself in time.  The pup smiled at him.  “Th-thanks,” he whispered.

“No prob,” Martin said.  He sprawled out on top of his sleeping bag and looked over at Robbie.  “You wanna put your sleeping bag between mine and Chuck’s?  I kinda get the feeling he’d feel better with you closer.”

The fox nodded.  “Uh, yeah, sure,” he said.  He grabbed his sleeping bag and laid it out.

Martin rolled onto his side, facing away from the two boys.  It felt weird not sharing a sleeping bag with the fox.  But he knew he shouldn’t, not with Chuck around.  It was bad enough that he thought he was interested in other boys.  He didn’t need to advertise it to a boy he just met.

“Hey, Chuck?” Robbie whispered.

“Y-yeah?” the pup replied.

“Do you wanna maybe snuggle together?” Robbie asked.

The wolf bit his lower lip.  The question felt like an icy knife to his heart.  He wanted to snuggle with Robbie, dammit!  But like hell he was gonna say anything about it with Chuck around.

Soft whimpers from the pup seemed to make his feelings known.  Maybe he wouldn’t want to snuggle with the fox.  A perverse sense of bitter joy washed over the wolf at that thought.  Immediately after it sickened him.

“It’s okay to say no,” Robbie whispered.

Silence fell over the tent.  Martin closed his eyes tight and tried to block out the image of his best friend snuggling with the little pup.  He felt the sting of jealousy, and he wanted it to go away.

Shuffling behind him drew him out of his world of anxiety.  A warm arm draped over him.  He felt the familiar form of his friend pressing into him from behind, though the sleeping bags between them added an extra barrier between them.  Without thinking about it, he grabbed onto Robbie’s arm and hugged it.

“Night, Marts,” Robbie whispered.  His voice was so close, he could feel the fox’s breath on the back of his neck.

“Night, Robs,” Martin replied.