Nickolas brought the brush down against the white canvas, leaving a streak of bright yellow behind. Their art teacher, Mrs. Monroe, instructed them to paint an abstract representation of the emotions they felt when they looked at a bouquet of Tulips she'd arranged in the center of the class. Most people were goofing of with their assignment, Nickolas didn't blame them it was  ridiculous sounding assignment, but he took it seriously. 

He took all his art seriously.

After a while he backed away from his easel, satisfied with his painting. It was a swirling mass of yellow, gold, orange and blue, lines, dots and flecks spread messily over the canvas.

"Good job."

Nickolas turned around. Standing behind him, standing on their toes to look over his shoulder, was a person Nickolas could only describe as pixie like. They were short and tiny with giant eyes and messy pink hair. Their irises were strange and made of circles of different shades of silver that got darker and darker the closer to the pupils it got. Definitely not human.

"Thanks." Nickolas glanced over at the easel next to him. "Yours is good too." It was a swirling mass of dark colours: Black, multiple shades of dark blue, green and purple. Right in the middle, part of the canvas was left blank and spelt out 'This assignment makes no sense'.

"Thanks. I just kind of grabbed random paints and squirted them at the canvas." They shrugged then added. "Name's Alex, they and them."

"Nickolas, um... He, him and his?" Nickolas added that last part, a bit unsure if that was a normal response.

"Nice to meet you. Your Zoe's cousin, right?"

"Yes."

"Alec's my brother."

"Oh, so the hair's colour coordinated."

"No." They scoffed. "It was an accident."

"Well, it's pretty."

"I like you already."

🐺🎨🐺

Isaac stepped into the locker room, sweat dripping down his skin and football gear. The others were inside already, Isaac always entered last, hoping to sneak in while everyone was already busy. He didn't like being noticed.

Michael was already on their side of the room. He waved at Isaac before turning away and tugging of his sweaty jersey. The other side of the room was crowded, football players keeping to their side like they thought they'd catch something from Isaac.

Isaac almost ran over to his locker, opening it and grabbing a towel as he walked over to the shower. He definitely needed it, he reeked from practice.

I can't go on my date smelling like an old gym sock.

Isaac smiled at the thought, he couldn't wait to get out of here and get his arms around his beauty. However, the smile seemed to piss someone of because suddenly he was pushed, or at least someone attempted to push him. He didn't move much, he wasn't the coach's meat shield for no reason.

"What are you smiling about?" Isaac looked up meeting his eyes as he tried to push him again. It was George, their quarterback. Isaac looked down at him, confused. George was smaller and leaner, staring at him like an angry Chihuahua. He was human, Isaac could crush him easily. He shook those thoughts of quickly, his mother would be disappointed if he got into a fight.

"Nothing that's any of your business." Isaac responded, sidestepping George easily and walking towards the shower.

He reached out and grabbed Isaac again, who sighed and turned around, tugging George hands of easily. "What do you want?"

"I want you of the team." Isaac almost laughed then and there.

"Trust me, I'm already on it. Coach just asked me to stay till the end of the season." Begged him was more accurate.

Michael walked over to them, seemingly unfazed that he was just in his boxers and slung a hand over Isaac's shoulders. "What's going on here?" Michael probably knew already, he was a wolf too so his hearing was just as good as Isaac. He was just asking for show.

"I'm just telling this poof here that we don't want him on our team." George glanced to the others for support, who made a big show of not paying attention. They probably set him up to fail for a cheap laugh. Some friends.

"Firstly, poof. Really? His nearly twice your size. Gay or not he'd crush you like a gnat." Michael shook his head and reached out to ruffle George's hair, ignoring him as he glared up at the taller man. "Secondly, I get your trying to do this whole 'tough guy' thing since you're new but your failing at it. Miserably. Stick to catching balls and running." 

George stomped of, mumbling under his breath as Michael walked over to his locker. Michael had made a point of snagging the locker right next to Isaac's after he'd come out and the previous occupant cleared out. They hadn't really been friends before that.

George got to his gym bag, shoving things into it, missing most of the time. He was still mumbling under his breath but Michael and Isaac could hear him. It was mostly just angry curses and slurs.

"Fucking fag... defending his stupid boyfriend."

Michael looked over at Isaac, making a show of looking over him slowly. "Hmm. Trust me if I was even a little bit gay, I'd go for Isaac." He winked and Isaac laughed. Michael made those jokes all the time because people accused them of dating all the time. "Unfortunately, I have a girlfriend so our love will never be." He sighed dramatically and went silent for a few seconds before bursting out into choking, wheezing laughter.

Isaac shook his head, walking into the spray of the shower with a smile.

🐺🎨🐺

Nickolas put the menu away once the waiter left with their orders. He glanced up at Isaac, smiling. They were holding hands over the table, Isaac's thumb making circles over Nickolas' wrist.

They were on a balcony, overlooking the coast and sandy beaches. Isaac had taken him to a restaurant called Penelope's. It wasn't some ridiculously expensive or frumpy restaurant, it was cosy and softly lit. Someone was playing the piano in the background.

"So how was your day?" Nickolas wasn't just making small talk, he really wanted to know. Isaac grinned and proceeded to tell him about his encounter in the changing room and Isaac's joke.

Nickolas laughed along for a bit then asked, suddenly serious: "Does stuff like that happen often?"

"Kind of." Isaac shrugged nonchalantly, seeping at his drink like it was no big deal. "But I'm quitting next season so it doesn't matter anymore."

"Your leaving? Great. Now you can use your time for things you actually like."

"Speaking of which, are you free tomorrow?" Isaac asked as their food arrived. He flashed the waiter a great full grin, not noticing as she walked away flustered.

Taking a bite of his salmon, Nickolas shook his head quickly. "No, I have plans for the day." He swallowed his food, almost moaning from the taste. He doubts that'll be acceptable in a place like this. "I have to finish up a painting and visit a friend, by the time I get back it'll be to late."

"Oh, how about Sunday? I have an appointment in the morning but after that I'll be free." Isaac suggested, only worrying a little bit about sounding clingy. He couldn't help it. He'd know Nickolas for three days but he carved his closeness. He didn't love him, not even close. Three days was way to short to develop feeling for someone like that.

"Sure." Nickolas shrugged, trying to contain his grin. He was weirdly anxious about not seeing Isaac for a whole day but otherwise content.

🐺🎨🐺

Isaac should have known coming home covered in lipstick stains would prompt some questions from his mother. She peaked out of her studio as Isaac walked up the stairs, paint speckled across her face and clothes. Ms. Dorothy Gold was not a large woman, in fact she was rather diminutive. Aside from that she and Isaac looked alike, same dark brown hair, same electric blue eyes. Isaac got his build and his height from his father and, thankfully, nothing else.

"Isaac, you're back." His mother smiled, wide blue eyes skimming over the lipstick stains. "Come see what I'm working on."

He followed her, furiously wiping at his lips to get rid of the lipstick, smudging his shirt collar in the process. The studio was large and spacious with a pottery wheel taking up one corner of the room. A paint splattered tarp covered most of the floor. Almost every square inch of the walls were covered in paintings, mostly abstracts, and the room was filled with shelves full of pottery and sculptures. His mother walked up to an easel in the middle of this all, waving frantically at the canvas.

"What do you think?" She asked, eyes wide.

"It's... pretty?" Isaac didn't know what else to say. It was nice looking, sure, with swirls of blue and purple mixing together, covering most of the canvas, but Isaac wasn't sure what he was looking at. "Sorry mum, but I'm not going to spontaneously develop an artist's eye."

Isaac already knew what she was going to say before she said it: "As long as you don't end up like your father I don't care, so far you're happy." As far as his mother was concerned Isaac's father was the worst type of man she'd ever met. Isaac couldn't say that wasn't true. She'd spent his childhood since he left making sure he didn't end up like his father. Seeing as he couldn't kill a spider that was just minding its own business without feeling guilty he'd say she was successful.

"Hmm. Isaac..." Dorothy started suddenly. "...please remember to wear a condom. Oh, also I'm getting you tested this Saturday."

Why is the universe conspiring to embarrass me?