Some days, work was just stressful, Tom thought to
himself.

Unlocking the door to his flat, the wolf gave a
relieved sigh as he went inside. He wasn't sure if he was in the mood to cook
dinner, so thankfully there was still chicken pepper soup from this morning. He
could always order too.

Taking his shoes off, the wolf walked to the bedroom
right away and put his bag down, almost dropping it beside his desk. Then, he
lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. Outside was too loud earlier, and now
here inside his bedroom, the silence was welcome. Unfortunately, right when he
was just about to relax, his stomach growled. He looked at the clock; it was a
bit past 17.

Right, his stomach was empty.

Standing back up with a grunt, he took his jacket off
and went to the kitchen. He took the leftover chicken pepper soup out of the
fridge and put it into the microwave, letting it warm up.  However, when he looked at the washtable…

The wolf gave an annoyed mrf as he saw Max's dirty
dishes still in there. Last night and this morning were Max's turn to wash them.
Moreover, Tom left earlier because Max's schedule was an hour later than his
own. Max had been doing this lately. Usually, the shepherd would wash it right
away when he was reminded, but sometimes he said he was too tired for that. If
there was something that annoyed Tom, it was seeing dirty stuff and not living
up to one's own word.

For now, he just huffed and went to the bathroom to do
his business. After he was done, he took a serving of the hot soup and sat down
at the small dining table. Eyeing the dirty dishes as he ate, he couldn't help
but become even more annoyed. To help distract himself, he took his phone and
opened OurTube, looking for something to watch.

Max arrived home when he was still eating, the dog's
grunt and noisy, noisy jacket rubbing
against itself when he bent down to take his shoes off signalled the dog's
arrival. Tom stared at the kitchen entrance since the main room was not visible
from there. A few moments later, Max said, “Home." and went to the bathroom.

Tom only gave a loud grunt before continuing to eat.

After his bowl was empty, the wolf stood up and washed
it and only it. His gaze lingered on the dirty dishes as he wiped his hands
dry, then he went to the living room. Those were Max's responsibility.

Max was watching television wearing t-shirt and
trousers when he went into the living room. Tom gave a mrf as he disconnected
his laptop from the small dock beside the television, to which Max replied in
acknowledgement, then he told the dog, “Max, it's still your turn to do the
dishes."

Eyes still on the television, the dog waved his hand
dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, I'll do it later." They went to silence as Tom
disentangled the cables, then Max spoke up again. “You just washed your dishes,
right? Why didn't you wash the rest?"

Tom's ear went down. “Because they're your turn. Wash them; they've been there
since last night."

Max growled, making his exhaustion and displeasure
known. “Fucking hell, alright, I'll wash it. Just give me 5 mins."

Tom just gave a mrf and went to the bedroom.
Connecting his laptop to the monitor on the desk, he opened Bonfire and joined
the chat channels. He was chatting with people when Max came in, looking around
the room as if looking for something. He noticed the dog coming in but didn't
look up.

The dog opened the wardrobe and asked, “Where's my
jersey?"

Tom finally looked up. “Did you put it in the dirty
clothes pile?"

“Yeah, I did yesterday. it's not here in the closet."

“I folded the laundry right after dinner yesterday."
He turned to Max. “You sure you put it in the laundry basket?"

“Yeah! I put it there!" Max fully turned to him.

Tom held back his annoyance at the loud voice. “Maybe
it's still in the laundry basket—no, wait, I washed everything last night. You
sure you did yesterday?"

“Yeah!"

“Yesterday when?"

“Fuck it, Tom! I know what I did!" Max gave a low
growl and went to the bathroom. Curious, Tom stood up and followed him to the
bathroom.

They didn't need to look into the washing machine,
apparently. The piece of clothing was there in the laundry basket. Tom clicked
his tongue and crossed his arms. “If you put it there last night, then why is
it in the fucking lowermost part of the laundry basket?!"

“Argh!" Max growled and took it, walking away with it.

He followed the dog back to the bedroom, wanting to
return to his desk. “You didn't put it in the laundry basket, did y—"

“Fuck-all, Tom!" Max turned around, teeth bared. “Can
you just fucking shut up?!"

Tom had to look up at him and for once, he felt
afraid. Max rarely, if ever, loomed, and when he did, he either did it
unintentionally or was only joking around. Right now, though, Max bared and
clenched his teeth and leant closer to him, and when the dog started growling,
low it might be, he had to take a step back in fear as… as…

He put his hands over his chest, trying to protect
himself.

Then, Max's expression fell. He realised what he was
doing and took several steps back, panicking. “W-wait Tom—"

Tom could only harden his expression and give a blank
face, taking a step back and giving a nod. “Of course. I will stay quiet. I'm spending
the night at Lucas's."

Before Max could say anything else, Tom turned around
and took his jacket and keys, leaving the dog alone in the flat.

The morning felt cold.

Max put the final plate on the drying rack. The
washtable was clean now, and washing the dishes gave him time to think. He
really did not mean to shout at Tom last night. It was just, work had been stressful.
He had been hauling stuff all over while being shouted at by his supervisor,
who in turn was being reprimanded by the department head.

Leaning forward on the counter, he hung his head low.
He tried to contact Tom last night, but the wolf left his phone here in the
flat. That was something the wolf never did; he never left his phone far from
him.

He contacted Lucas soon before bed, and the coyote
confirmed that Tom was indeed there and distressed. He wanted to speak to the
wolf, but he didn't want to take the phone. Lucas later texted him that he'd
call him later in the night.

In a typical Tom fashion, though, he didn't say
anything to the coyote other than that he had a fight with Max. He just asked
the coyote to spend the night there, and that was it. Lucas told him that yes,
Tom looked distressed at first, but later they just played games like usual
before going to sleep.

So now, Max looked over the kitchen, at the plate of
rice and black pepper chicken serving and a cup of tea he made for Tom, at the
clean washtable and the full drying rack. The clock showed that it was half to 7.
Tom was a quiet person, yet the flat now felt even quieter.

Smiling in irony, he couldn't help but feel rather
proud that their first real fight happened after more than one year of dating.
To be fair, that was amazing, even for him. The longest one he had before this
was merely 4 months, or even, he never fought with Priscila but that was
because they broke up after only 2 months.

Sighing in defeat, the shepherd walked to the living
room and sat down on the sofa, turning the television on. Tom had work at 8, so
he hoped the wolf would come home first.

The television fell on deaf ears as his thoughts
wandered. Max knew that to err is normal, and he knew that Tom knew that too.
Tom showed him that he trusted him enough to talk about his past mistakes,
which in turn made him trust the wolf to talk about his own mistakes. They
really helped each other, and honestly, that was the thing that made him feel more
accepting of his sexuality.

Remembering last night, Max berated himself. He didn't
mean to be that threatening, shouting at the wolf like that. He was still
bigger than the wolf, and the wolf also told him about… some unpleasant
scenarios where size difference was something he feared. That was what Max saw
last night; when the wolf took a step back, Max saw fear on his face. He wished
he didn't make Tom have any unpleasant flashbacks.

His thoughts suddenly stopped when he heard someone
knocking at the door, and his tail began to wag when he heard Tom asking,
“Max?"

He was on his feet as fast as he could. “Coming!"

Opening the door, he was greeted by Tom who looked…
okay, actually. He just looked tired, but not like how he imagined him to be.
Max wanted to pull him into a hug, but the wolf just went into the flat and
closed the door, taking his sandals off and putting his jacket on the hanger.
“Morning, Max."

“Uh, morning, Tom."

Tom looked up at him, expression still neutral, and
then, he moved forward and hugged him gently. “I'm sorry for last night." His
ears went down.

The breath he didn't know he was holding was let go,
and he hugged the wolf back, nuzzling the top of his head. “No, Tom, I'm so—"

“Max, no. I should be the one feeling sorry for last
night." Tom let go of him, ears still low. “I was the one at fault. You were
tired right after work and I just made you angry and shout at me. Because I
know I would if someone did it to me when I'm tired right after work."

Accepting the apology, Max instead pulled him in for
another hug. “It's okay. Don't worry about it." He caressed the wolf's back.
“And I'm sorry for scaring you last night."

Tom hugged him tighter. “It's okay. I know you didn't
mean it."

“I… didn't… I didn't make you, uh… remember stuff… did
i?"

“No, Max, it's really okay."

Max wasn't fully convinced, but at least Tom didn't
seem disturbed. For now, he kept holding the wolf close for a few moments more,
then Tom gently pulled away from the hug. “I need to get ready for work."

“Let's eat first. I cooked some breakfast." He
scratched his nape. “…and washed the dishes."

Tom didn't comment on that, just taking a deep breath
whilst looking around the apartment. “I need some water." He said, then walked
to the kitchen, just when Max's phone rang in front of the television.

“I made you breakfast!" He shouted at the wolf, then
let out an annoyed sigh and answered the call. It was just a workmate asking
him where he put the pallet yesterday, apparently. Done with the call, he put
the phone back down and joined the wolf in the kitchen.

Tom was making tea when he came in. Max looked at the
wolf's back fondly, at the gently waving tail as the steam from the hot water
went up. When the wolf put the kettle down, Max walked forward and gently
hugged the wolf from behind, saying without any doubt, “I love you."

That made the wolf freeze, but it was quickly followed
by his tail wagging. “That's a strong word." He merely replied, continuing to
make the tea. Although, Max felt like the tensions in the wolf's body were
slowly dissipating.

He knew the wolf had been waiting for him to say those
words, and now he was confident enough to say that. With the wolf not pushing
him away, he nuzzled the top of his head and hugged him tighter. “And I'm a
strong dude. I'll back my words."

A gentle knock on the door woke Richard up from his
dozing on the desk.

Taking a deep breath, the hyena growled low to clear
his head. He stretched his arms, then stood up and shook his body. It was about
lunchtime; no wonder he felt sleepy. There was another knock at the door, and
he hoped it wasn't someone important. Feeling a bit fresher, he walked to the
floor and opened it.

The door opened to reveal Pacal, his boss. The jaguar
was in his usual attire, a rather tidy shirt with a jacket over it, looking
down at him with what looked like a small smile. “Have you had coffee today?"
He crossed his arms, almost expertly handling the file in his hand so that it
didn't fall.

Richard growled sheepishly. Was his drowsiness that
visible? He instead just moved aside, allowing the jaguar to enter his office.

“Nothing much now, just some updates from Signora
Lucia." Pacal started right after Richard closed the door. The jaguar sat down
on the available sofa and put the file on the coffee table, giving a huge sigh
as he let his own tiredness be known. “Basically, we're still trying to track
Red Wolf and we still have no clue."

Richard nodded and sat down beside the jaguar. He used
to think that Pacal was big, but even beside Signore Octo, the jaguar still
looked small. Eh, probably just Signore Octo himself was just an absolute unit.

They sat there in silence. Richard eyed the file on
the coffee table, not feeling interested. He really wished that they stopped
and moved on from Operation Red Wolf 2. It really felt like they were dragging
this for far more than they should have.

Taking a deep breath, he just closed his eyes. Who was
he anyway? Even beside him, he could tell that Pacal wasn't really keen to be
in this operation. The jaguar might not speak much about his feelings, but he
implied them often enough.

“Anyway, wanna get some lunch? Toast sounds good."

Richard couldn't back a smile. “Sure."

After locking his office, he followed the jaguar out
of the headquarter. Richard and Pacal weren't very close, but thanks to the
many missions they had together, not to mention that the jaguar was his boss,
Richard couldn't help but feel… connected, in a way. He felt safe under him,
and he could tell that Pacal was glad to have him.

Like now, taking him to lunch like this was something
that the jaguar often did, not just with him, but with all of his subordinates.
His way of leading them all was also something Richard ought to replicate. The
jaguar cared for him, and all of his subordinates, in his own way, and Richard
really appreciated it. To him, Pacal sometimes felt like… a father, even more
so because he was about ten or eleven years older than him.

Honestly, that was not bad. Especially since Pacal,
from what he heard, never had a father.

The jaguar's back was wide, and it looked steady and
strong. He found it comforting to walk behind that back, to walk following that
tail. Knowledge is dangerous, the jaguar told him once, so he somehow found
refuge in having a boss who had a way of explaining things.

They went outside the gates. Pacal told them that they
were getting something for lunch whereas Richard just nodded at them. After
that, they began walking to the nearest metro station. They had a regular place
to have lunch and it was far from the headquarter. Pacal told him that it was
to avoid detection, but Richard just thought that the toast there was
delicious.

As usual, they didn't talk much, even when they
arrived at the station and boarded the metro. Richard usually filled the
silence by just playing with his phone, whereas Pacal had a habit of observing
people. He wouldn't outright stare at people, but just look around and observe how
people act. Why he was not in the intelligence team, Richard had no idea.

They arrived at the destination and went down the
metro. After tapping their public transport card at the gates, they went
outside the station. Quickly, they walked to a stopping tram to get to the
coffeehouse. It was still quite a walk, but the rumbling of his stomach made
him more eager.

Finally reaching the coffeehouse, they joined the
queue. Richard looked around the establishment; the first floor was packed.
People were sipping their coffee with toast and other kinds of light food,
happily chatting. At the end of the queue was an open kitchen of sorts.

“Hwó wilt jé jy kafé?"

Richard turned to the waiter, forgetting that they
were now ordering. Not speaking South Icelandic, he could only reply in
English. “Black with honey please."

The waiter switched to English. “Sure. Do you want it
with bread?"

“Yes, please. Just, uh," he looked at the menu.
“thunderbread toast with banana and cream."

“Alright. Feel free to have a seat, we'll prepare your
order."

He nodded, then followed Pacal upstairs to find an
empty table.

Finding one, they gave a deep sigh as they sat down.
It was still lively and he didn't like the noises. At least they were near a
window, so the view was still good.

“How are your subordinates, Richard?"

He looked at Pacal. The jaguar was looking at him in a
friendly way. Giving a small smile, he replied, “Good, good. They've been
good."

Pacal nodded and smiled along. “Do you still want to
apply for university?"

“I really want to, but I don't think I could manage my
time with it."

“Unfortunate, but understandable." The jaguar chuckled
a little. “I wish I could still apply."

“Why can't you?"

“I'm 34 now. I'm sure I'm too old to apply."

For a while, they could forget that they were members
of a mafia organisation with a guaranteed death if ever they dared step out of
the line.