Among Golden Rays (Gay Furry)

Chapter Seven: Thoughtful Meanderings

Michael squinted as he eased his phone's charger into his phone's charging port, attempting to get just the right angle so that his phone charges. The charger cord itself had something wrong with it, and it took him a near ten minutes each time he plugged his phone in to charge. He wasn't even sure when it had been broken.

Michael sighed as he finally got the position just right, leaning back against his bed. He just had a really long but pretty good day, all things considered. He met with Jake at the library, talked with him for almost two hours, got a bunch of book recommendations and basically got spoiled for his entire library of books.

But he still really enjoyed his time talking to the fox.

After that they had given a time to meet again and discuss more in-depth about their jobs and signing up and meeting the rest of the team; Coach Ramsay, Coach Loney, and Miquel O'Hare. For some reason, Michael was feeling really excited to meet up with Jake later, in a few days when they were to sign up.

Michael turned over on his side, and laid his head down against a fluffy cold pillow. His fan on his bedside cabinet was blowing at a medium level, and it felt nice, despite how cold the room was, and just how cold Moonshed was just naturally.

He had once heard that a cold room gave people nightmares, or made it harder to sleep. For some people that might be true, but for Michael, noises and a cold room were needed for him to be able to sleep, period. He never had nightmares from it, nor did he stay awake because he was uncomfortable.

Then again, he was a very fluffy and warm wolf-dog, so staying in the cold was literally in his blood.

Michael groaned as he squirmed under the covers, unable to get completely comfortable. Normally all it took for him to sleep was a cold room, cold pillow, and warm blankets. He sighed as he turned over as he let out a deep yawn. The room he was in was filled with the hum of his fan.

The trophies and picture frames around the left side of his room glinted in the moonlight drifting from the window, through the curtains. Michael sighed, eyeing them. He was proud of the work he put in, he was proud of all that he had done. But he turned his back to those trophies, sighing deeply.

His parents were the reason for the altogether tacky display of football aptitude. His father, John Landry, was the one that pushed Michael to pursue football. That gave him his love of football. Unfortunately, that's about all that Micael's father gave him in terms of support. Those trophies and pictures and frames showcased the one thing that his dad could be proud of him for.

And that was football.

Michael guessed it was rather sad. Nothing he had done since his parents gave him this house was worth anything beyond helping out with football. Not his decent job, not the connections he had, not the fact that he didn't get caught up in any controversy or drama. Nothing else besides football made his father proud.

Michael wasn't even sure why he kept it up. He hadn't seen his parents since they left a good couple years ago, leaving this house for him, which he was eternally grateful for. He could take the trophies down and throw them somewhere in his garage, since he doubted his parents would ever be coming there for a long time, but there was always that chance.

Not to get it twisted, Michael genuinely loved football. His father called it a manly sport, and didn't want his son to "turn out like one of them queers" so he forced him to partake in it. Turns out that Michael loved the sport, loved the challenge and hardships.

He also just turned out to be "one of them queers".

Michael tossed over again, sighing and wondering why he was thinking about all this so late at night. It wasn't the first time, of course, many times he thought about all this at night. His brain activating in one last blast of energy before sleep would overtake it.