Wick by K.M. Hirosaki

Wick

K.M. Hirosaki, Fox, M/M, Seduction, Skunk

"Wick"

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Chilver's eyes met Derrin's through a gap in the crowd, as if they'd both picked the exact right moment to turn and see each other. Derrin didn't know that Chilver's name was Chilver, and Chilver didn't know that Derrin's name was Derrin, but Derrin knew that the look in the fox's eyes was a hungry one, and Chilver knew that the look in the skunk's eyes, in turn, said something akin to, "God, I've love to throw you down onto my bed and have my way with you."

Julian's was part pool hall, part nightclub. It wasn't a gay bar, but in this part of town, nobody would have looked twice if Derrin were to slink on up behind Chilver and start dancing and grinding real close with the fox out on the dance floor. With that in mind, the skunk decided that he might just try exactly that, but almost as soon as that thought fluttered by, Chilver broke eye contact and turned away. Chilver was just being coy, though, and he smiled to himself, now that Derrin couldn't see his face, and he instead feigned interest on the game of nine ball that a coyote and a weasel were playing.

Derrin wasn't fooled, though--he knew flirting when he saw it, which is exactly what Chilver was hoping for, on the inside. The skunk dodged pool cues and dancers alike as he skirted the border between the dance floor and billiards tables, eyes intent on Chilver's back and tail as he made the approach. The fur on the back of the fox's neck tingled, a telltale sign that someone was watching him, stalking him, and that made his smile widen.

When Derrin was still a few feet away, Chilver quickly spun around on his heels, then faked a yip of surprise as he found himself face-to-face with the skunk. Derrin appreciated the act, even if he saw through it for what is was, and his own grin got bigger. "Didn't mean to startle you," he said.

"You up for a game?" Chilver asked, wagging his tail and accidentally brushing it against the back of the weasel's leg as he tried to make a potentially game-winning shot. The weasel was annoyed, Derrin chuckled, and Chilver felt a flush of pride because he knew, without a doubt, that the skunk was interested and probably did want to throw him down on a bed and have his way with him.

"Game of what?" Derrin asked, his eyes taking in the curves of Chilver's body. The fox was dressed like a tried-and-true queer from the city, with a tight shirt, tight pants, and just a few hints of jewelry, all of which came together to say, Yes, I like dick, so why not come say hello? Derrin, by Chilver's reckoning, looked less obvious, but there was just something about him that told the fox that the skunk was into guys and guys alone.

God, he's handsome, they both thought about each other, at almost the exact same moment.

Chilver made sure not to show too much in the way of teeth as he answered the skunk's question. "Eight ball? Or maybe just straight pool?" He figured he'd leave an out for Derrin, in the event that his hunches were wrong.

They weren't wrong. "Nah, not straight pool," he said, wanting to kill Chilver's doubts and succeeding in that end.

They both learned each others names, then, and racked up for a game of eight ball after the weasel and coyote finished up (the weasel had won after all).

Derrin thought it a shame that pool had to be played with sticks, because there were so many wasted opportunities with Chilver bent over the table, looking so hot and so vulnerable, and yet there was no way for the skunk to stand up behind him as the fox made his shots. The fox was good, too. Chilver wasn't playing his best, though, because he wanted the game to last, and he wanted to see the look in Derrin's eyes as the skunk looked him over, and he could almost hear the skunk thinking, "Damn, I wish I had a better view of that ass."

"You're pretty good at this," Chilver said as the game started to get more heated up. The fox had to put less effort into intentionally playing worse than he could. Derrin smiled at him, and the fox loved that smile, and he thought to himself, I wonder if he'd still smile at me like that if I told him I don't fuck on the first date.

Chilver was the kind of guy to fuck on the first date, though, and Derrin was betting on that. The bet for the game of eight ball only had a pair of drinks at stake, but Derrin and Chilver both knew where that would lead. Maybe it wouldn't lead there immediately. Maybe they'd play another game of eight ball, first, or a game of nine ball, and maybe they'd have more drinks, and maybe they'd get to know each other a little bit better before one of them finally turned to the other and said, "Hey, want to go back to my place?"

It was still early. There was still plenty of time left to play games and to dance and to get sloshed and to talk about random shit and still cap the night off with some good solid fun in the bedroom. Derrin was expectant; Chilver was giddy. Neither of them showed more of that than they had to in order to keep their flirting going steady.

"So, what do you do when you're not hustling skunks at pool?" Derrin asked. Chilver was lining up his shot for the eight ball (he'd pointed to the side pocket with his stick, without calling it out by name). The fox looked up, smiled at Derrin, and too the shot. He missed. Derrin figured he'd missed on purpose.

"What do you think I do?" he asked, wagging his tail as he grabbed the tiny blue cube of chalk from the side of the table. He wanted to know what insights Derrin might have about him.

Derrin thought good and hard. Chilver was young, and he looked it, but he was slick and he was clever and certainly not stupid. "Software engineer," the skunk guessed.

"Ooh, close," Chilver replied. "Your shot."

The skunk was stripes. He still had the eleven and the fourteen to sink. "Do I get to guess again?" he asked.

"I want to guess you, first," Chilver said. He leaned away from the table, so as not to accidentally jostle it. "I'm gonna guess that you're a software engineer."

Derrin sank the fourteen. He stood upright, smile beaming for two reasons at the same time. "How could you tell?" he asked.

"You strike me as the kink of guy who's not afraid to try to outsmart a fox," Chilver said, watching Derrin line up his next shot. "Which, hey, is a bold thing to attempt. Gotta give you credit for that."

"Do I get to guess again now?" the skunk asked.

"Take your shot first."

He did. Table scratch. He bit his lip. "Sys admin," he guessed.

Chilver smiled sadly and shook his head. He bent over the table again, lined up his next shot for the eight ball (corner pocket, this time), used his tail for balance, and thrust the cue forward. He sank the shot dead on. "Web developer," he replied, remaining in that hunched-over position.

"No fair," Derrin teased. "You didn't give me another guess."

"You didn't win the game."

"Doesn't that just mean I owe you a drink?"

"Yes it does," Chilver said. "So, what am I having?"

Derrin took the two cues and set them back on the rack by the wall. Nobody took their place at the table just yet. "What are you having?" he asked in return as he led the fox over to the bar.

"I want what you want me to have," Chilver said.

"You want whatever I want to give you?" Derrin asked. Chilver just grinned, and so did Derrin, appreciating the fox's sense of humor just as much as he appreciated his fine, tight body and lovely pelt and sharp, quintessentially vulpine features that made the skunk wonder why the fox was in web development and not in modeling.

A draft beer from a local microbrew was Chilver's prize. Derrin felt a flush of affection when he saw suds clinging to the fur of the fox's muzzle after the first sip, and Chilver smacked his lips and licked those suds clean. "Nice," the fox said. "Don't think I've ever tried this before."

"Glad I got you to try something new," Derrin said. He had his own beer, and he took a deeper sip than necessary, just to make sure that he got some foaminess clinging to his own snout. Chilver smiled when he saw that, and he thought about maybe trying to kiss them off before thinking better of it.

Chilver looked back towards the billiards tables. "Another game after this?" he asked, holding his glass up.

"Maybe some dancing first," Derrin suggested, curling his paw around the fox's hip, drawing him closer. A few bystanders did look twice, but they didn't really care, and neither did Derrin and neither did Chilver. The fox put his own paw on the skunk's forearm, and regretted missing his chance to kiss those suds away while he'd had it.

They finished their beers quickly, both eager to get to the dancing. The music was fast, but not too fast, and it was jumpy without being too bouncy or sugary or grating--it allowed for energy, for constant movement, and it let the fox and the skunk stay close, constantly moving, constantly shifting around, and just occasionally letting paws wander up and down each other's bodies, not getting too naughty, not just yet.

Derrin had gotten hard, more than once, his erection coming and going in between savoring it and forcing it to go away. Chilver didn't seem to notice, or he at least didn't give any sign that he noticed, but Chilver did notice, and he was glad of it, because he wanted the skunk to be nice and extra hard after a few more games of pool and a few more glasses of beer, or maybe even some martinis or mojitos or some big, fruity, faggy drinks that made them both feel like old ladies.

Chilver started panting: part of him was tired from the dancing, but part of him was driven by hormones and the urge to jump Derrin's bones right there on the dance floor, to just shove him up against the wall, reach down into his pants and stroke his cock while pressing their muzzles into a deep, wet, passionate kiss.

That's when Chilver decided to get off the dance floor. It saved him from being too distracted to think, even if the two vixens walking by gave him dirty looks when they spotted the obvious hard-on in his skimpy jeans. His arousal was killed pretty quickly by that, which was fine because the fox was raring for another game of pool anyway.

"Eight ball again," Derrin suggested. It wasn't a question. Another pair of drinks was set as the wager. They were both going to play to win, this time, and they could see it in each other's eyes, pausing as their gazes both lingered, swapping more hints of affection back and forth.

Chilver was better than Derrin. Halfway through the game, Derrin knew that he didn't stand a chance of beating the fox, but he didn't give up, because he liked having a challenge, and he liked that the fox wasn't afraid to win again, even with the fear that Derrin might say, "You don't play fair, and I don't want to play with you anymore, and now I'm going to find someone else to share drinks and suggestive glances with."

Derrin didn't say that, though; Derrin said, "Good game! So, now, what am I drinking?"

"I think we can just have another beer," Chilver said. "After all, it seemed to work last time." Chilver wanted it to work again, and Derrin wanted the fox to be happy with that choice, because the night was really starting to get along and there was only so much time they could kill before one of them had to break down and admit they were ready to move on to the sex, now, thanks.

The second pair of beers went down quicker than the first two; there were no lingering suds on whiskers and muzzles this time around, but there were still glances, and there were smiles framed by the rims of the glasses, which hid parts of the mouth but didn't hide lust in the eyes.

"You feel like dancing some more?" Chilver asked, setting his empty glass back down.

Derrin gave Chilver another once-over. The fox looked a bit buzzed, and he was. "Eh, not really," the skunk admitted. "I was actually thinking I should probably get going."

"Home?" Chilver asked.

"I suppose," Derrin replied. "Want to come with?"

Chilver reached out and took one of the skunk's paws in his. "I think I do," he said, and they both swished their tails.

"How did you get here?" Derrin asked as they walked outside onto the sidewalk.

"I took the subway," Chilver said. He wasn't drunk, but he wasn't good enough to drive, and he hoped that he wasn't going to have to drive the skunk's car home. "How about you?"

"Let's just take a cab back to my place," Derrin said. "That'd be easiest." It didn't exactly answer the question, he knew, but Chilver didn't care. The fox and the skunk stood together underneath the neon sign that read "Julian's" until Derrin managed to flag down a cab.

They sat down next to each other in the back seat, and exchanged glances even as Derrin gave the driver directions. Chilver watched the pair of feline eyes in the rearview mirror, which popped up every now and then when either the fox or the skunk let out a soft little sound elicited from a paw traveling up and down a thigh. The ride seemed to take forever to Chilver, who didn't know this part of town well, and it seemed to take forever to Derrin, too, because he knew exactly how much longer it was going to take to get home and every minute spent in the cab was another minute he wouldn't be spending in bed with Chilver.

The cab ride was less than fifteen minutes, though. Derrin jangled and jostled his keys, using them first to open the door to his apartment building, and then again to open up the door to his apartment itself.

Once they stepped in through the front door, Derrin pinned Chilver to the wall and forced the fox into a deep, wet, passionate kiss that was exactly like the kind Chilver had been hoping for. The door was left open for the better part of a minute before Derrin kicked it closed with his foot and pulled Chilver away from the wall, leading him toward the bedroom.

That was the longest fifteen feet either of them had moved in months.

Nearly five minutes later, after stopping to make out and fondle one another three and a half times, they finally made it to that bedroom. Chilver took in the sights and the décor, spotting some posters for bands he recognized by name but didn't think he'd ever heard. He also spotted big, thick computer manuals and a few spare bits of computer hardware tossed into one corner. Derrin already knew what his own bedroom looked like, and so he only looked at the fox--at his eyes as he leaned in for another kiss, as his muzzle as he pulled away, tiny strands of saliva breaking, and then at the bit of the fox's exposed midriff.

Derrin tore Chilver's shirt off so fast that Chilver was afraid it was going to rip. Chilver wouldn't have cared if it ripped, though, because nothing was going to stop him now. The fox's pants were tight and confining, and he whimpered and whined as the skunk rubbed a palm over his cock without opening those pants up. The skunk grinned, enjoying the sounds he got by being such a tease, and Chilver retaliated by not immediately going for the skunk's own obvious hard-on.

When their muzzles met again, though, Chilver lost his willpower, and he reached down, using both paws, and he fumbled and struggled but finally managed to get Derrin's pants open. The skunk's erection bulged out, heavy and warm, barely held back at all by a pair of skimpy boxer briefs. He hadn't felt as big or as thick through the fabric of his pants, and that one last exciting surprise made the fox squeak as he bit down on the skunk's lower lip.

The fox's teeth drew blood as Derrin pushed him away, pushing him off of his feet and onto his back on his big, cozy bed. Chilver hadn't even taken a fresh breath yet before Derrin was down on top of him, straddling him, faces close, heavy breathing mingling as the skunk tore his way into the fox's tight pants. The fox gasped even louder, and he arched his hips up as Derrin brought his hands down to pull those pants halfway to the knee.

Derrin scooted back, moving so fast that the mattress shifted out of alignment with the box spring (he didn't care). He bent down, tail hanging off the edge of the bed, and he pulled away the fox's underpants and started going down on him. Chilver balled his paws into tiny little fists, and he whined and he squeaked and he squirmed with delight as Derrin mouthed all over his stiff, slender, leaky cock. The fox was tense, and he was horny, and he almost wanted to just give up the fight and let go right there and let his load out into the skunk's mouth before the tiny voice in his head reminded him that, no, he needed to do this right and he needed to make it last because it was going to be so much more mindblowing that way, and there was no way that he could afford to shortchange himself or shortchange this beautiful skunk who'd finally dragged him off to bed to have his way with him.

It had been a couple of months since Derrin had gone down on someone, but he'd had plenty of practice and experience, so he just let those instincts guide him, using the fox's squeaks and his squirming as cues for what he was doing right and what he was doing wrong; Chilver was most sensitive around the tip, and he liked just a tiny bit of teeth, and he also liked to feel fur against his damp, smooth cock.

Chilver didn't want Derrin's poor jaw to get sore, and really, Derrin wanted to do more than just suck the fox off, so the skunk didn't complain or resist when Chilver wormed his hips away from Derrin's face and then scooted aside so that he could get his pants and his underwear the rest of the way off. Now naked, the fox could feel the weight of Derrin's gaze on his body, and it made him feel sexy to be looked at that way. Derrin would have told the fox how sexy he looked, but he was sure that the fox knew, and he didn't need to spoil that by using clumsy words while he was so horny.

The skunk reached over to his nightstand and he fished around inside. First came the condom, then came the lube. Chilver put both of those on for him, smiling as he did so, watching with a smile as the skunk lifted his own shirt off and then shimmied out of his pants.

The askew mattress now suddenly bothered Derrin, so he got off of the bed for just a second so that he could push it back into place, before he settled back down onto the mattress and slung Chilver's legs over his shoulders. Chilver usually closed his eyes when he was about to get fucked, because he usually got fucked while lying on his belly, where the other guy couldn't see his face, but this time was different and this time he didn't want to close his eyes. He still winced for a moment, just blinking his eyes shut for a second or two, because even with the lube, Derrin's thickness made the initial thrust sting a little. Derrin hadn't expected the fox to be quite so tight--he didn't really think he was a slut or anything (though he'd acknowledged the possibility, and he acknowledged it again now that they were starting to fuck), but it was still just kind of surprising for some reason--and so since he was caught off guard, he let out a deep, trembling moan that embarrassed him deeply but that turned Chilver on a whole lot.

Chilver whispered in a soft, husky tone for Derrin to fuck him; Derrin didn't hear the fox's voice over his own breathing, but it didn't really matter because he went ahead and did it anyway, making the fox wince some more even as the lube did its job and made things much less painful then they might otherwise have been. The fox unballed his fists and he grabbed onto Derrin's forearms, the skunk holding onto the fox's sides as he pushed down into the doubled-over vulpine, thankful for that inherent flexibility that allowed him to get that precious angle that made Chilver yip with every sharp thrust downward.

The layer of latex was a godsend, killing the sensation enough so that Derrin didn't get off after three pumps like he otherwise very well might have. Chilver could barely feel the difference, and his mind wasn't even on that anyway, since it'd been a good while for him, too, since he'd gotten laid--and right now, already, this time was much better than that last time. The sheer degree of mutual attraction was close to tangible in the air, to both of them, like it was something that could mingle with the heat coming off of their bodies and the gasps and grunts escaping their muzzles.

'Blissful' was the word that Derrin would have given it if he'd been at all able to slow down and think of things in terms of words; instead, he just let that bliss overtake him, and he gave into it completely, no longer consciously controlling his body at all. Chilver was more in control, but only because he wanted to make sure that he didn't lose control, because otherwise, he was afraid he was going to miss something important, like a certain key feeling or maybe just a particularly firm thrust.

More and more and more, Derrin was overcome by the knotted core of pleasure inside his body, and he choked out a few sharp gasps that came close to being barks, and he went clear past the point where he could stave off orgasm, continuing to hammer his hips down and down and down again, even as he came hard. Eventually, the tension in his legs and back made him stop, and in the meantime, Chilver just needed to breathe and feel the pleasure, until the skunk was just panting, the fox's heart still racing.

Minutes passed, uncounted, and Derrin got soft while Chilver stayed very much hard. The fox tried to reach into the skunk's nightstand drawer, and Derrin could tell from the sly grin on the vulpine's face that he was looking for another condom. "Just had the one," he said, breaking the long silence with a warm, deep voice of apology. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Chilver replied, and Derrin let the fox guide his paw down to that unattended and still-leaky shaft. It was okay, Derrin told himself, and he just gave Chilver a tiny nudge to the cheek with his nose as his fingers tightened, then loosened, then started to stroke back and forth. They both lay there, Chilver's limbs spread out and stretched and relaxed as if they were boneless, and Derrin once again allowed himself to admire that lovely, naked body, slender swaths of russet making a beautiful contrast against his own monochrome. He loved the fox's slipperiness, the way it felt, and the way it smelled, and Chilver was impressed at how well the skunk knew to touch him, like he'd done it dozens of times before and had memorized the quirks and techniques that best brought the fox pleasure.

Derrin was considering going down on the fox again, but before he could bend back over, he noticed the way that Chilver was started to wriggle, centered down around the waist and hips, like he wanted to thrust against the skunk's paw but was resisting. Derrin didn't want him to resist, but Chilver wanted to let the skunk do it for him as much as he could, and so the fox didn't thrust, the skunk continued to caress and squeeze and stroke, and with just a tiny gasp through a clenched-shut muzzle, thick, sticky rivulets of white spilled down and over black fur.

They were both spent. They were tired--exhausted, really--and they were happy, both of them happier than they'd been in a long time. Chilver looked up into Derrin's face and thought to himself, I wouldn't mind waking up tomorrow and seeing that face looking back at me, and Derrin was thinking something remarkably similar.

"Did you want me to stay the night?" the fox asked. He kept his voice calm and quiet because he didn't want to seem clingy or overeager.

Derrin heard that calmness, though, and took it into his own mind with a tinge of disappointment. "You don't have to," he offered. "I mean, if you've got someplace else to be, I'm not going to keep you."

The skunk's moment of doubt reflected back at Chilver, who almost bit lip as he nodded. "Ah, no, that's okay," he said, figuring that as long as their one night of pleasure had been worth something, it didn't matter what happened from there.

Awkward silence struck the room for one second too long.

In the next minute, Chilver was out of bed, getting his clothes back on. Derrin watched, sad to the see the fox go, but he said nothing. Chilver just focused on getting dressed, because if he made eye contact with Derrin, then the skunk would see how much he really just wanted to stay, to sleep beside him, curled up and cuddled and warm and surely, surely, after a heavy night of flirting and drinking and dancing and eight ball, a one-night-stand was everything a fox could expect, right?

"Let me give you my number," Derrin said, and he did, and Chilver input the numbers into his phone and saved the entry.

"Yeah," Chilver said, now standing at the front door as he made his goodbyes. "I'll call you," he said, holding up the phone, as if to emphasize it, and then he turned around and walked down the hallway towards the staircase so that he could go outside and get a cab of his own.

At home, Chilver poured himself a tall glass of water, feeling like he'd done something wrong. "If you'd stayed, it'd have been even more awkward," he told himself, not believing himself for a moment, and as he tucked himself into bed, all by himself, he was already missing that warmth, that sense of familiarity and that spark that had made things feel so lovely when they were together.

Derrin patted the spot on his bed where, not half an hour before, he'd gotten off inside that gorgeous and fun and witty little fox, and he wished that the spot was still warm. The fox's scent still lingered, and it was nice, but the skunk knew that he wouldn't be able to smell it come morning.

The phone number in Chilver's phone went undialed. For the first week, the fox would take out his phone, several times a day, call up the entry, and consider calling. "Hey, let's do lunch." "Hey, want to go grab some coffee?" He wanted to call, and every time he shut the phone without doing so, he felt pangs of guilt and regret and anger at himself for not having said anything before it was too late.

Derrin waited for Chilver to call him, but he didn't really expect him to. After four or five days had passed, he told himself, well, that's that, and another week after that, as he passed Julian's on his way home from the office, he briefly considered going in, until it hit him that he couldn't bear to look Chilver in the eye and let the fox see the look of disappointment on his face if the fox said something like, "Look, it was a great night, and it was really fun, but that was all it was, and if you'll excuse me, I've got a wolf to flirt with here," and then it also hit him that he couldn't stand the disappointment if he walked on into the club and didn't see Chilver there at all.

Derrin decided, then, that he'd stop going to Julian's, and he never did drop by there again.

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