The next day, we walked around to some of the sights around London. We went to the Sherlock Holmes museum and each bought the classic Holmes hat. Holmes really meant a lot to us because it brought us together when things were really bad. Jake and I used to share everything when we were younger, including drinks. It was really no surprise that we both contracted Mono. During our sick days, we read the Sherlock Holmes books together. This was just after Jake's suicide attempt and he was still a little... Let's say fragile. But I didn't object when he grabbed my tail and used it as a security blanket. 

Back in London, we marveled at everything, the way too expensive, but still totally worth it, London Eye, Big Ben which I always wanted to see since I watched the old Disney Peter Pan movie, and Arsenal's stadium. It was there that we got told off by a security guard when he saw Jake pissing on the stadium. Proud Liverpool fan, he is. When we were in Tower Bridge, going on the tour, we saw a familiar face in the tour group behind us. 

"Holy shit..." I whispered to Jake, ducking behind a wall. "What is it?" he asked."It's Laney!"

"Fuck," he said upon spotting her.

"How did she know we were here?" 

"Well, we have been posting pictures to Facebook."

"Brent," Jake said. "You really need to change the privacy settings on your account."

"Son of a bitch," I muttered. "Dude, we can't get out of here, she's hanging by the exit and will spot us if we try to go by. She'll cause a scene or something.""Damn it, you're right."

Our tour group started moving into the room before.

"Brent, this is the only option I can think of right now."

That's when he pushed me to the wall and pushed his lips against mine. His hand was lifting my shirt. I was so taken a back I couldn't even play along. I sat there, trusting his plan and enjoying the mint on his breath. His lips were so soft and I reached back to touch his ass, I'm not sure if it was part of the plan or not, but right before I made contact, the security guard who had scolded us before for insulting the Queen grabbed our collars. 

"Oi! What did I tell you about messing around?" he asked. "This ain't no place for snogging."

This is when Jake did what he does best.

Be completely irreverent. 

"Oh, sod off it, ya wanker," he said, turning back to me.

I closed my eyes and was leaning into Jake when the guard interrupted us again. 

"That's it you two, out. Now." 

"We paid good money!" I said. "We ain't going nowhere." My fake British accent was nowhere near as good as Jake's. 

"Oh, you're going somewhere. On your asses on the street." 

He was a man of his word. 

As we were brushing ourselves off, Jake glanced over at me.

"Sorry for kissing you," he said. "I just, um, I didn't think anything else would work."

"It's okay..." I bit my lip at the thought of our kiss. I could still taste him on my lips. And when he lifted my shirt, I felt a chill go down my spine. 

"I think we gotta keep moving to keep her off our trail," Jake said. 

I nodded and then sighed as we made our way back to our hotel before I saw a sign that gave me another idea. 

"Jake, my good friend, I say we've earned ourselves a drink."

It was a small pub called the White Horse, owned and managed by a middle-aged white horse. When he saw me from behind the bar, he rang a little bell and everyone, about a 50/50 split of humans and furs, looked up at us.

"What an honor that a big celebrity should wind up 'ere! My name is Pete Townsend, and I just wanted to tell you boys that anything you order tonight is free of charge. In fact, another round for everybody!"

Now that got people cheering. 

"This is a hero's welcome," Jake said, laughing and doing this little hop dance to the bar to order something.

Everyone was clamoring for us to sit with them, and I felt like the popular kid in high school. In the end I opted to sit down at the empty table. A crowd still gathered and was thanking me, saying what I did for them, their friends or families. I'd had enough of being a hero.

"Can you guys just let me be for a few minutes?" I finally yelled. People stopped and stared and I had to say something else to do damage control. "I haven't even had my first drink yet." 

Everyone cheered and went back to their seats. Behind the throng of people was Jake holding a platter of drinks, a small card naming each of them. 

"Dude, I love you being a hero so much right now," he said, sitting down with the platter. I picked up a shot of a whisky called Edradour and clinked glasses with Jake as the night began in earnest. 

* * *

At two in the morning, we stumbled back to our hotel room. We were both laughing and probably waking up guests, but we didn't care. We were 18 years old, on our first might of serious drinking, and I was more famous than the President; we might as well have been invincible. 

"Brent," Jake slurred so it came out as 'Bwent'. "You know what you need?" 

"What?" I asked as I got my shirt off.

"A girlfriend."

"Nah, I don't need a girl. I got you."

He laughed. "Yeah, but you're not into guys," Jake said, stripping down completely nude.

"That's what you think," I giggled. 

"If you're gay, then I'll suck your dick."

I doubt I was even capable of getting an erection at that point as hammered as I was. 

But I still dropped both my pants and boxers at the same time. 

There we were, both of us nude. 

And that's when I got on top of Jake, who had climbed into the bed, and kissed him. He moaned and grabbed my shoulders as my fingers traced down his sides and he, in reaction, nipped my ear. I was kissing his chest and rubbing his stomach, worshiping his body like it was some sort of sacred temple. I moved my kisses back up to his lips and that's where it stayed for a while as I took his hand in mine and squeezed it affectionately. My other hand was on his ass, holding it and enjoying everything about it. 

He giggled and broke the kiss. 

"I've always loved you, Brent," Jake said. 

"As a friend?" I asked.

"No, you goof." He leaned up and kissed me, softly, delicately, it was as if the Jake that had been kissing me before wasn't the real Jake but this kiss, the simple kiss that wasn't too strong, nor too weak, this was a kiss of love rather than passion; this was the kiss of my best friend, the guy who used to hold my tail after a bad dream, the guy who was there for me through every shitty moment we ever shared. This was a kiss of true, unabashed, pure love. "I mean that I love you."

He fell asleep before I could even respond. 

"I love you too," I whispered before falling asleep on top of him, fingers still intertwined with his.