Denying The Undeniable (Furry Male X Male)

Part 1, Chapter 2

Hurridly, I scurry to get to my seat only to find it occupied. By a Coyote. I stand above him for a few seconds, looking around for a vacant chair to place myself. I must've been so focused on my hunt for a place, because the Coyote was looking at me with a puzzled look on his face as I stood closely behind him. He poked me and I snapped my neck to look at him, he jumped a little and pulled out a vacant seat next to him. How could I not see the chair, not even a foot away from me. Blushing from emberassment, I sat down, and frantically opened my binder, burying my face into it. The Coyote seemed to get a kick out of it, because I could hear him chuckle next to me.

"Was it that clumsy?" I asked, leaning to my left.

"Kinda, yeah man" The canine replied. His voice was deep and soothing. So much so I melted inside because of it.

"Oh.. well that's not fun at all" I giggle as I bury my face even deeper to hide my blush. As lazily acted as before, I'm guessing he could tell my blush because he patted me on the back and playfully punched my leg. He introduced himself as Connor, and I introduced myself aswell. We continued on with our assignment, to write as little as possible, but to tell the biggest story. About 5 minutes before the bell was due to ring, our teacher, Ms. O'Donnel, collected our papers and jokingly teased me about my late tendencies. I smiled and went along with it, knowing I could get out of a write up easy. Connor and I both stood up and grabbed out binders at almost the exact same time. We looked at each other with slight amazement and laughed. He reached out his hand and exclaimed in a rather happy tone

"Its been fun, Sinclair! Until next time"

I took his hand and shook it, his soothing voice still echoing within me. With the same enthusiasm, I stayed the same, and we both left.

The next few weeks were pretty much the same. Connor and I were talking like best friends, and the accidental tail brushes would leave me bowing my head, turned away from him while he was left amused and cackaling. One particular day, a Thursday, he stopped me just as I walked out of class. I turned and stood out of the doorway as Connor struggled to force himself through the crowd. He looked worried, and very nervous. He hastily snatched some paper and scratched down some numbers. Hesitantly, on both our ends, he gifted me this paper and nudged me. Connor then jogged off and flew around a corner, pulled in by someone's obvious arm. Puzzled and slightly amused, I flipped the slip over with his cell number written upon it. On the bottom it said "For the class." Convinced it was for just that, I thought nothing of it.