Part 1

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"Yahhhh" He yawned, stretching his arms outward and blinking sleepily. "Where am I?" He thought. As he looked around, all he could make out in the darkness was the outline of a figure lying down on the floor at the other end of the room. It felt like an ungodly hour in the morning. As he began to come into an awakened consciousness, Mousie remembered where he had gone last night. He shook the covers away and hopped out of bed, stumbling on something that made a loud "bam!"

"Huhh.." The other figure in the room muttered, half-awake and half-asleep. Mousie cursed himself, wishing he could have just gotten out of this man's house without making himself heard.

"Umm, hi." Mousie said, unsure of what else to say. He had just slept in this man's house, in the man's own bed nonetheless, while the man had taken a much less comfortable position on the floor. "Sorry for bothering you." He stammered, trying to make himself as small as possible.

The man, now shifting into a seated position murmured "It's okay just keep the lights off and go back to bed." This authoritative demand send a shiver of pleasure down Mousie's spine, and so he followed the man's commands. He was starting to remember the complete delight with which he had followed the man's demands last night. He had been looking for work at a gas station, but had been rejected, when this unnamed man spotted Mousie while filling up on gas for his truck. "Hey, boy. You lost or something?" He'd asked the skinny boy of at least 20 years old, wearing faux cat ears, and dark blue suede pants tight enough to reveal his cute bottom. You see, the man was very acute in noticing detail, and he had happily taken in every inch of that pouty, emotional boy's adorable face, albeit in the poor lighting of the gas station. That night, he had decided to make that cutie his. And further interaction proved the cute boy was more than willing.

"I'm not lost" The boy had squeaked, seeming to float more than walk from the bench he was sitting on up to the man. The man had glimpsed a flash of raw wilderness and mischievousness in the cute boy's eyes, or at least he thought he had, before the boy looked down and resumed a sad appearance. "I'm just looking for a..." he drifted off.

"What, boy. What are you looking for, c'mon spit it out." The trucker roared in his deep gravelly voice.

"I'm, I'm looking for work." He continued, feeling defeated from a day full of fruitless job searching. "I have no friends, I just ran away from home. And I'm just...just tired. And hungry. And broke." His voice quivered. Mousie often stared at the floor, feeling lost in a world of self-pity and despair.

"Hey, look up here, boy, look me in the eyes." The trucker roared, stepping a bit closer to the boy. "If you work for me, I will give you food. I'll give you a place to stay. I'll give you money. But, it's work, boy, sometimes full days, dawn till dusk. Are you prepared for that?" The trucker looked solidly and strongly into Mousie's reddened doe eyes.

"Yeah, I am. I, I'll take the work. Anything I can get." He yawned, and got into the passenger seat of the truck, too tired to fight or resist anything anymore. Almost as soon as they'd taken off on the road, Mousie drifted asleep. The trucker glanced at him a couple times, enjoying the preciousness of the sleeping boy with cat ears. He looked so innocent and so pure, exhausted by a chaotic world. All the trucker wanted to do was take care of him.

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