Sometimes Getting Lucky is Getting Lucky
Carter tried his hardest to ignore any customers that gave him the kind of bedroom eyes he'd been intimately familiar with. He tried to ignore the reflection that he saw in the window and intentionally fail to notice that this new batch of hungry eyes was centered squarely on his butt. He'd just gotten that pair of pants too; his first properly fitting thing he'd bought since he started working on himself a year back. At least, that he didn't get explicitly to go jogging.
The mouse knew he'd be showing off his physique slightly, but he didn't think it would elicit an open stare from patrons. Today, though, people felt like they were looking much more thirsty for him than anything he could make with an espresso machine. While he did his best to shake off the looks by themselves, sometimes it was just who gave them really gave him pause.
These weren't as rare or furtive as they were before and they were all coming from the kinds of furs he previously thought way out of his league. At first, all the attention made him nervous, but he met it in stride with just the slightest bit of optimism, even a slight show of flirtatiousness back, when he could count that he wasn't going to spiral into a red cheeked mess.
He was sure he could remember his face, he just never caught his name. He'd been coming in for quite some time. Truth be told, it was actually the first glimpse of him that inspired him into working on himself. He didn't try to pay special attention to him, just be as courteous as he'd be to any other customer, but there was a definite feeling that he somehow knew the game. This mysterious stranger almost seemed to want to help him along, but always in little offhanded mentions, never anything concrete.
All this reminded him that the sugar glider behind him was still staring! Sure, he could take the compliment internally that his rear was worth admiring like a painting in a gallery, but his only concern was the intent. Did this mystery suit want to do anything to him, or was he just eyeing up the goods? Did he have a bad read in thinking the look was almost appreciative? Would he take no for an answer if something did end up happening? Carter honestly had to ask himself if maybe he wanted something to happen.
Because really, even in the reflection of the window, the mouse had to admit he was checking the sugar glider out and he really did like what he was seeing. At the very least, he had the good fashion sense to get a suit that more than just flattered his figure, which was looking better by the second. Porcelain cups generally meant a customer was staying for a bit longer, so Carter he figured he'd at least try to catch his admirer in the act.
Something that did catch the barista off guard was that, in the split second that he turned around, the sugar glider's eyes had darted upwards. They were making eye contact and he was smiling. Even so, Carter tried his hardest to exert the little bit of social pressure he thought he had by gently placing his hand on the table. He was cut off before he could even start.
"You shake your ass just a little bit when you're scrubbing down windows. So, is that a learned habit, or something you didn't realize you were doing?" His voice was something unique to hear, an accent split between British and Japanese, the stretched phonemes almost making it sound vaguely Australian. Carter blushed and glanced sheepishly to the side, to the sugar glider's great amusement. "That answers my question. Thank you."
"Would you like a refill on your drink, sir? It's half-price with the cup and house coffee is free." Carter tried to look back up, only to feel his face heat up like a skillet. The sugar glider had relaxed and, in doing so, revealed the bright, elaborate tattoos that covered his wings. He knew he had a thing for tattoos, but this was something else
They were almost ethereal, spiraling in complex patterns along his wing, branching off from one another. It almost felt dizzying for as beautiful as it was, even the negative space between them was shaded more attractively by their presence. The mouse didn't want to stare for too long, so he eventually tore his eyes back up to his customer's face. Once he started speaking, of course.
"I think I would, you did such a good job the first time. I'll have to stick to the coffee after that though, I do my best to watch my figure just like you've started to do." The sugar glider had pushed the cup forward and Carter was just about to grab it, when he froze.
"E-excuse me sir? Are you a regular that I haven't noticed? If so, I apologize." He certainly hoped his feigned inattentiveness would work, even if he doubted it.
"Oh no, I just stopped in today," he said with a wink. "But I can tell you've lost weight recently because your skin hasn't entirely adjusted to that perky little build you've got going. Don't worry, it'll adjust just about as well as your rear did to your new habit," he added simply as he crossed his legs under the table, his arms stretching out to reveal the full glory of his ink.
Carter wanted to call him a creep and kick him out. Every muscle in his body was primed to fill his entire cup with coffee, just to toss it back in his face. The sugar glider was perfectly aware there was an edge and apparently was content to waltz along it. As he finally moved to finish picking up the mug, the mouse tried his absolute hardest to convince himself he wasn't curious as to what his customer was going for.
It was easy enough for him to replicate a drink by smell and, in recalling what the drink was, the specifics shot back to mind: Double espresso, shot of dark chocolate, pinch of cinnamon, and whole milk. Apparently all of his tastes were just as impeccable as those in his dress. The barista wondered if that extended to his tastes in...
Carter actually had to start catching himself to banish those dirty lines of thought. Well, he didn't have to, but he didn't really want to walk back looking like a trainwreck. It didn't take that long to make everything, and he tried his hardest to steel himself for the expected barrage of innuendo. He didn't even get the chance to finish doing that, as his spontaneous flame had apparated behind his back, leaning against the side of the counter, just before crossing this line too.
"You know, if you weren't clearly following a dress code for work, I'd say you should tie off one of your old shirts. The more I look at you, the more I can see you have the body for it. In fact, given the fact that you haven't even tried to call me out, I'd say you've got the desire, too." The mouse quietly stated the price under his breath as he set the mug down. His eyes were closed, trying to put himself in as unsexy a situation as possible. The problem was, usually that was just imagining himself at work.
In the real world, however, there was absolutely no mistaking the feeling of someone else's hand on his ass. It wasn't light and he couldn't excuse it as accidental; the glider's hand was actively in his back pocket, giving him quite the firm grope. It even felt good, to the mouse's chagrin. He tried to stifle his little squeak of enjoyment, but ended up with a sort of noise that sounded like a disinterested honk. Forget trainwreck, Carter was an entire rail depot that had jumped the tracks by now.
"What do you want?" The barista leaned haphazardly against the wall, he couldn't possibly help the defeat in his voice. The sugar glider only chuckled as he lifted the second mug to sip from it.
"Carter, this isn't about what I want, it's about what you want," he said, then added, "and how you want it," after a pause. The mouse flicked his ears before the cheeky sugar glider continued, "I know your type so well I could pick it out of a crowd at a hundred yards. You may not call me tonight, but I'll certainly be waiting. Oh, and that's a gift, not a tip. No sharing."
And just like that, he was off. No name, no way of contacting him and all he was left with was the slightly uncomfortable feeling of his back button being undone
So he proceeded to reach back and redo it, only to find what seemed to be a decently sized wad of money.
He unfolded it and, sure enough, $600 cash with a business card wrapped up in the center of it.
"Alton Nishimura," the mouse read with a little bit of awe, quietly shoving the cash into his off-hand pocket. If this buisness card was true, it was downright impressive. Lead designer at a fashion house, head recruiter at a modeling agency, and a small garnish of various other artistic titles. The front had the various numbers of his firms, but the back had another number in calligraphic gold leaf font. It also had a disclaimer: "For personal contacts only."
Carter felt like a total fish out of water. If this was a prank, it was a damn expensive one. Hell, the card itself even seemed impressive and gracefully designed, matching up quite well with the distinctive style of his tattoos. While his figure did get mentioned, he also figured that models generally didn't like open-ended groping. As well, he was in uniform. It wasn't as if he had the best fashion sense on display. That left the option that he was to be a... "personal contact."
His heart almost skipped a beat as his concentration was broken by a loud squeal and watched a luxury sports car tearing down the street. He could guess who was behind the tinted windows by the design painted along the side and back. As the mouse watched him streak away, he even spotted a portion of the car that reflected the design of the business card. He was exactly as much of a bad boy as Carter imagined him to be.
The rest of his shift felt like it was slowing to a crawl, which was nice, because it gave the barista plenty of time to clear his head and try to think objectively about the whole situation. So, Alton was very clearly worth quite a lot of money and it was assuredly due to his sense of aesthetics. By falling into it, admittedly, it felt like something of a compliment.
But at the same time, he also couldn't help but consider exactly why Alton was so self-assured that he'd be hearing from Carter again. The money was probably some factor, even if the sugar glider intended their next meeting to be a simple one night stand. Carter could only assume that it would be made worth his time. The money he was given did however bring a slightly unsavory factor into it. He didn't want to seem like he could just be bought and sold, and he could assume for what with how flagrantly he was just hit on.
The biggest conflict in his mind was whether or not that mattered, though. If he decided he wanted something to happen, where would things be going from there? In fact, the mouse mused that if he were to walk in and be active in contrast to the passivity he'd displayed during their first meeting, he could earn some respect. Maybe if he was careful enough, Alton could even be a stepping stone to a distinctively more high class life, together or otherwise.
Things started to change with that mentality. Maybe he was thinking of it wrong. He didn't have a boyfriend, so what harm was there in a little tryst with a mysterious stranger? He wasn't just another club-bunny, that was for sure. There was a decent chance in his mind that, not only could he make it work with the designer, but make it last as well. For the rest of the day, Carter's was a brave new world of fast cars, fine clothes, and beautiful peers
After work, it was a fight against himself to not immediately pick up his phone and start squealing like a giddy schoolgirl to Alton. If he wanted to move up, Carter figured he was going to have to do a little bit of preparation. At the very least, he ran home to take a bath, mentally going through every last piece of clothing he owned. He found out Alton was right; he could end up tying off most of his old shirts without issue, some were starting to feel more like robes on him.
There was also the thought of going out and getting a new outfit just to meet Alton in, but the mouse wondered how a designer would read into that. He leaned over slightly in the tub to fish his phone from his pants pocket, trying to see something that Alton had actually made in an attempt to more accurately judged what he liked.
Taking from what he saw, Carter almost felt more confused than when he started out. Most of the models he found pictures of wearing Alton's lines were all rather surprisingly muscular. It blew his original theory out of the water; if he wanted to screw someone who looked like one of his models, the designer would have been better suited going to a gym.
This all came around to his original question: Why would an assumed multi-millionare be going after some barista from a no-name, corner coffee shop? His head was tying itself into knots trying to assign some motivation to Alton's actions. He also considered the chance that it was a spur of the moment decision, but even that brought more question.
Carter realized he needed to stop himself. What was actually important was that Alton seemed interested in doing something with him and he was figuring out, by arguing with himself, that he wanted to do something too. He slowly rose out of the bath, drying himself off and shamelessly admiring himself in the mirror for a scant moment. He mused that before he started, he'd have easily brushed off his current state as impossible to attain
As he redressed, he made a plan of action. Alton probably expected him to be overwhelmed, so he'd do his best to play right into that particular fantasy. He'd buy a brand new outfit so he could look like he was naively trying to impress the sugar glider. If needed, he figured himself enough of a good actor to seem more wowed than he was if necessary, even if he was already expecting big things.
Carter had the next two days off, so he figured he'd spend most of the day preparing tomorrow. If he called by the end of the evening, he could probably make it look like the decision to call was one he'd been laboring over the whole time, rather than a foregone conclusion. This was certainly shaping up to be quite the interesting weekend.
Eight o'clock rolled around the next day and the mouse was ready to put on the show of his life. He'd been preparing for the act since noon and after a nice can of cider and some self care, he was ready to make an important phonecall. Carter dialed the number expecting to leave a message, but he heard the telltale sound of a pick up no sooner than the third ring.
"Carter, darling, you have impeccable timing. How are you? I'm glad to hear back from such a beautiful person." The sugar glider sounded like he was trying to wind down, the sound of his stride somewhat audible alongside the vague echoes of music.
"Oh, thank you Alton. I'm doing pretty good, how're you?" The mouse slipped the slightest bit of consternation into his voice, as well as a small effort to sound more intoxicated than he actually was.
"Fifteen seconds ago? Dreadful. Now? Like a weight's been lifted off of my shoulders. Where are you darling, I must pick you up to return the favor."
"Now? Oh, I'm at home, I was wondering if you'd be up for something tomorrow, but... I guess today would work, too." The little jump was quite genuine. He thought it would take some actual convincing to get Alton anywhere near him.
"Perfect, you can stay overnight then! There's this lovely place on Summer Street that serves an amazing breakfast if we'd feel like it. For now, I just want to go somewhere bothering a patron would be considered social suicide." Now this was actually moving too fast for the mouse. Carter could only figure that he kept a guest bedroom ready.
"Oh, well, is there anything I should grab then? I-I even got a new outfit so I could look a bit better than one of my old baggy sets," the mouse said quickly, rattling off his address as well in his nervous chitter. He walked over to his bed where the outfit was currently laying, somewhat surprised when he heard the chuckle at the other end of the phone.
"Absolutely wonderful. Wear that then and I'll see you in a few moments." The mouse tossed his phone to the bed as the line closed, slipping gingerly into his new outfit. It wasn't too formal, but it wouldn't seem out of place nearly anywhere.
He locked up his apartment, trying to get down to the sidewalk in some attempt to look over-eager, but the startlingly unique coupe from the day before was already there, the door scissoring open to reveal a very eager looking sugar glider, who was none too subtle in checking the mouse out. He even went as far as biting his lip as Carter slipped in. He was expecting some form of flattery as the door slid closed.
"Carter, I'm surprised at you! I thought you bought something that fit! You can do yourself so much better than that. Come on, I've got to get you something that actually honors your hard work." It felt like they'd hit the speed limit the same moment the car shifted out of park, on their way to an unknown destination.
By the time they'd reached the restaurant, almost every last shred of control Carter felt was gone. He'd vastly underestimated just how out of his element he'd be. The boutique they'd stopped at didn't even have any prices listed, Alton just confidently swaggered in and out. Carter found himself in a fresh set of what seemed like casual clothes to someone like Alton.
That wasn't to say they weren't well made; everything hugged his body but felt effortless to move in, from the greyed jeans to the airy overshirt. He didn't even want to acknowledge the undershirt, a deep violet number that clung to his body, the slimmest line of his midriff exposed. The only thing keeping him going was that Alton sure as hell knew what he was doing.
The entire drive, Alton had been looking him over with the admiration one would give a painting. Most of his meager attempts at conversation fell flat due to a lack of common ground, but each time, Alton seemed just that much happier for the attempt. The one action that really seemed to please the sugar glider however, was when the mouse simply asked a question. He didn't quite know enough to follow along when the topic swung to clothes, but the designer seemed more than happy to parce things out. It felt almost bittersweet when they'd rolled to a stop. The looks were still included, but they were intermingled with a simple but interesting exchange.
As they both exited, it took a moment for carter to figure out why. There was little to indicate the restaurant's presence outside of the valet podium, and the frosted glass doors with a silver inlay simply reading "TABL" in a sharp-edged bold font.
Entering was a different story. The mouse felt a little less under-dressed once they were inside; no two furs had a style even remotely resembling each others. Though upon further inspection, he'd realized Alton seemed to be the only one wearing a suit in the whole building.
"Reservations?" The disinterested red panda behind the counter droned, barely looking up from the screen to acknowledge their presence.
"Oh, like you even take them under six bodies," Alton jabbed back sarcastically. "My friend and I would like a window table, riverside."
To Carter's surprise, the panda led them towards the back of the restaurant and the mouse became very aware of the series of whispers traveling up and down the occupied tables; waves of "Who's that?" and "Is he seriously with Alton Nishimura?" radiated through the restaurant in a tone that was barely even attempting to seem hushed. The mouse simply did his best to stay stoic to keep from seeming like it was getting to him.
The moment they were seated and handed their menus, Alton raised his eyebrows gently, placing his hand on the mouse's wrist to grab his attention.
"Come now, Carter, don't let the peanut gallery get to you. Hell, most of them are probably jealous that I didn't ask them to be in your position. You can relax, it's an unspoken rule that you aren't to bother someone here once they're seated, so every fool needs to get in their sidelong jab beforehand." The sugar glider smiled, moving his hand into Carter's.
"It's... it's certainly new," the mouse replied with a nervous tone he wanted to fool himself into thinking he'd put on intentionally. "I think it's just a bit of an adjustment... to such an upscale environment." Carter calmed himself with a furtive smile, glancing over the menu.
It was almost as if he had to learn a new language just to figure out exactly what this menu was trying to convey. He wanted to keep his cool and act like he fit in perfectly, but he also didn't want to horrifyingly mispronounce something and stifle the flow of the evening just to explain himself to the server. Meanwhile, Alton had the simple goal of folding his hands and smiling. He was probably a regular here and the ability to look longingly at the mouse as opposed to trying to translate the menu from what he assumed was some kind of Romanized Swahili was gently chipping away at the last vestige of neutrality the mouse had.
"Just do what I do. Strip the nonsense foodie language and just assume you'll get something that tastes like the thing you vaguely understand in a plate or bowl, depending what you order."
Carter was confused. This was a very different Alton from the one that had his hand on his ass not 36 hours ago, or even the one that had him fitted for a designer outfit at the bottom of the hour before. Not that he minded the change from sexual aggression to honest consolation, but it felt a lot like whiplash. If all his nervousness was an act and the glider was acting this sympathetically, he'd be feeling like absolute trash! If anything, it was the genuine feel of the whole affair that made him feel like he wasn't sending the whole date screaming into the ground.
That's when Carter lit up like a traffic light. When he realized that this was a date. That was also probably the excuse he used to get out of whatever engagement he had previously. Now, he thought, would be a very good time to try and change the subject a tiny bit.
"That helps..." he nodded as he glanced up to Alton, flashing another brief, nervous smile. "Thanks. So, What do you usually get here?"
"Well, it's kind of embarrassing to say," the sugar glider started, waving one of his hands before folding them again, "but with how often the menu changes, I usually just point and pray. Word to the wise, though, don't get that peanut-duck-squash abomination. The only thing mysterious about it is how much Duval paid Grains of Amaranth to classify it as food... certainly not enough to compensate the reviewer I'd guess." Alton chuckled to lighten the mood, Carter eagerly followed suit. However, he did snap to attention the moment a waiter arrived.
Alton kept quite literally to his word. He flicked open the menu, pointed while looking at the waiter and glanced down to what his finger landed on. The mouse figured he should do the same, but his self-consciousness had him sticking with one of the few things that even looked remotely phonetic.
"I'll be having the Olive-Mussel Consomme and a dirty Sazerac. Carter?"
The mouse nodded gently before speaking. "And I'll try the Panchatantra-style grilled cheese." The mouse didn't include a drink, as he couldn't really think of any particularly refined enough before the waiter grabbed the slim menus back.
"Don't worry," Alton chirped as the waiter left. "You can have a sip of my drink if needed. It may be strong, but I've yet to make a stronger mistake."
A surprisingly satisfying meal later and the pair found themselves on the road again, the lingering scent of the leftovers wafting through the car's cabin, permeating through the cardboard swans. Carter certainly didn't want to be the one to break the silence, but he also felt like he was being much too quiet for his own good.
"Thank you, Alton." It came out barely louder than a whisper, the fitting thing to come to mind. The mouse found himself playing with the hem of his jeans as he watched the city speed by outside the tinted window.
"For what? It was an absolute pleasure to have you along for dinner. It was a delightful change of pace from the same boring catering at what felt like the hundredth runway rehearsal this week." Even though his expression lifted, the sugar glider's eyes were still glued to the road, quickly scanning before each pinpoint turn.
"For everything. The clothes, the dinner, how nice you've been," Carter's hand slipped into his pocket. "I guess for even paying attention to me in the first place."
"I'm hardly selfless for buying some eye candy and company, Carter," the sugar glider purred, glancing towards the mouse as they stopped at a red light. "But where did that line of nonsense at the end come from? You clearly care about yourself, why shouldn't I care about you?"
It took the mouse a period of time to come up with a good reason for his train of thought, during which they'd already stopped in an underground garage.
"Because you've got this jet setting lifestyle going for you and I'm just some poor kid who makes good coffee. For all the work I put in, half the people in that restaurant made me look like a bridge troll... and for all my dumb plans to make it big as some trophy debutant, I turned into a huge mess that probably embarrassed you. I didn't feel worthy to set foot anywhere we went."
The mouse looked up from his hands, only to see Alton waving him towards an elevator. How he had gotten out of the car and into the elevator in the time it took Carter to give his discourse he didn't know.
"Come on," he barked, waving the mouse along with him. Carter felt like he'd messed up badly as they both got in. He felt a ten-ton stone rest in the pit of his stomach as the sugar glider punched in some numbers on a keypad, the doors closing in front of them.
"Don't fall into their traps. That's all they do for a living, make themselves look too good for everyone else. You didn't feel like you could fit in because that's all they care to do, be exclusive to make all their little sanctuaries feel like they have some inherent, inexorable value. I want you to say something, for my sake."
"And what's that?" Carter asked, somewhat audibly crestfallen.
"I went on a date with the most in-demand bachelor in the city, and I deserved it." The mouse shook his head, looking back at the sugar glider with a puzzled expression, only to have him continue.
"Trust me, this isn't for my benefit. If I wanted people stroking my ego non-stop, I'd have stayed at that rehearsal. I want you to repeat that line and believe it."
It was nearly at a mumble, but Carter managed to force the words out of his mouth. "I went on a date with the most in-demand bachelor in the city... and I... deserved it."
"I walked into the most exclusive restaurant in the city, looking the best out of anyone there and enjoyed an amazing meal at the best seat in the house." The sugar glider didn't even ask the mouse to repeat after him, the words just sort of fell out. So, if he was going to be a downer, Alton was going to start having some fun of his own.
"And I am about to have the most mind-blowing sex of my life with him the second these elevator doors open." The repetition was there, but it took until he'd verbalized the sentence for the mouse to comprehend it
"Wait... " the mouse's eyes shot open, his arms raising reflexively up to his sides. "What?"
The sugar glider was already undoing his tie, throwing it back over his shoulder. "What do you mean what? You said it and I agree. What better way to cap off a day of designer outfits and gourmet foods with some nice, passionate lovemaking. I know watching you traipse around in that getup certainly has me in the mood, and you seem to have a thing for men in suits based on where I saw your eyes wandering today." His jacket fell away as he spoke, dropping it carelessly into the corner of the elevator.
"I just... Already? Why me? Why now?" Carter seemed like he was desperately trying to find any kind of meaning in his circumstance, as if he wanted to find a way to force the suit jacket back onto the sugar glider.
"Because tomorrow morning, when you wake up in silk satin sheets nude, exhausted and satisfied, I want there to be the slimmest chance that the first thing you'll do is actually realize you deserved this. I want to show you what this all can be like when you let yourself have fun and not just let yourself become as embittered with this life as everyone else. I'm guessing we both find each other attractive, so are there any problems you'd want to voice?"
"I'm not entirely sure, I mean yeah, I can't really deny I'm attracted to you... but what's in this for you? It just feels odd that you'd pick me out of literally anyone else."
"You're right, and there is a reason. A few of them, in fact," Alton turned to face Carter now, meeting his eyes. "The way you look, having just worked for something and coming out gorgeous for it. That you're not a gilded debutante, trying to forge worth in yourself with worth in your accounts. You seem interesting, which is more than I can say of most of my company in this lifestyle. Hell, you couldn't just buy the change you wanted, so you took action to make your world a place you might want to live in. That's something I haven't seen since I was hemming my first line by hand in the garment district." The vivacity from the nostalgia faded, Alton's eyes slipped right back to the mouse.
"But above all, Carter, I picked you because we all have to start somewhere, from relationships to life. You asked and I answered. Why not start here?"
The comment gave the mouse a major moment of pause. Carter realized that through all of the day's events, Alton wasn't just treating him as some nice looking accessory, as much as he tried to put up that front. The revelation that he was viewed as an equal made something different. For the first time that night, what he thought was just physical attraction bloomed into much more than that.
And those neat little tendrils of romance only made his attraction that much stronger.
The mouse finally wanted to make a move, stepping towards the sugar glider and making a real effort to meet his eyes. Carter didn't want to put on any sort of front, he simply wanted to let Alton knew how he felt. His eyes mirrored his own feelings, his confusion and resolve, his unease, but what shined through most was his conviction, his desire, and his wholehearted want for a genuine connection. Alton didn't even feel the need to ask what he wanted when the doors finally opened.
The sugar glider slipped his arms around the rodent's hips, moving in to give him a gentle kiss. Carter's eyes fluttered shut almost immediately, so Alton knew that he had to take the lead in moving them. Luckily, he could navigate his apartment blindfolded, so if anyone was watching, they would only see them glide across the floor gracefully; an ethereal, romantic waltz towards the bedchambers.
Carter wouldn't see the tasteful decor, the stunning view, the sheer, breathtaking scale of the place... not until well after they'd taken in plenty of each other. The designer shifted one hand forward, pushing open the door to the guest bedroom before his guest even could notice they were headed towards another threshold.
Finally, the kiss broke off and their eyes both fluttered open. The mouse's gaze dropped off briefly before it was brought back up by hand, the sugar glider lovingly meeting his gaze.
"You don't have to if you don't want you, but... if you're worried about anything, or if you'd want to say something to me, go ahead and say it. Chances are, it's not as bad as you're worried about."
Carter spent a few moments chewing on his lip, mulling his thoughts over as he could feel the rather sensual ministrations of the sugar glider's fingers over his body.
"I'm... I'm worried that you won't find me as attractive naked... I don't even really think I look that good sometimes." This only elicited a chuckle, the sugar glider's hand sneaking up under the shirt he had bought for Carter, tracing over the mouse's bare chest.
"Darling, there's no need to fret. That outfit gives me quite the idea how you look and all I've been thinking since you've been in it was just how much I was going to relish taking it off of you."
Over a few breathy moments, Carter's shirt slowly crept over his head and off his body, the sugar glider's hands returning to where they were not moments earlier. A lustful smile crept on to Alton's face as he kissed the boy in front of him, his hands moving down to unbuckle his belt. Soon after the mouse's pants joined his shirt, quickly followed by his underwear. Alton really took his sweet time admiring the view before he spoke.
"I apologize, I didn't quite think this over, seeing you like this did change something... I want you more than ever."
Carter leaned forward to kiss the sugar glider, he wanted less talking and more passion, because he was finding what they were trying so far to his liking. One little nod towards the bed and they both found themselves sprawled across it before they realized, Alton's arms gently pinning his guest to the bed.
The mouse looked up with a blush at the designer, his fingers wrinkling the satin sheets as he tried to find something to grasp, his arousal utterly apparent to both parties. He was freed on one side, the cock of the fur on top of him freed in a few short motions. It seemed like past that, Alton felt no other need to undress, making the male under him feel even more exposed as the sugar glider's tie bridged the gap between them.
"If you'd want, I could help you take off your shirt... If that would make you more comfortable or something." Carter still wanted to kick himself for faltering in the heat of the moment, but a deep chuckle from above him echoed a slightly different sentiment.
"Gods, you're cute when you look so nervous. I feel fine just as is, though maybe some day soon I should get you some eveningwear for when this becomes a regular thing..." Alton leaned down, passionately kissing Carter's neck and trailing down to his collarbone.
"No... fuck the idea of getting you someone else's fineries, if I want you dolled up I'll find the time myself to make something beautiful for you." The kissing continued past the mouse's chest, trailing down and overt his nascent abs, just barely stopping before planting a kiss on the top of the mouse's pelvis.
But Alton didn't take the turn Carter expected, wandering down one of the mouse's legs and softly nibbling on the mouse's thighs. It sent ecstatic little tingles up along Calvin's spine, making him hope that the glider would be able to just figure out to pull his tail. As it was however, neither male wanted to speak much, lest they break the blooming tenderness and passion that was slowly permeating the room's atmosphere
The mouse was expecting him to trail deeper, that in a few moments, the sugar glider would be tenderly licking a path into his tailhole. Maybe he had a change of heart and he'd actually be heading back up for a bit of oral exploration... but the longer Carter waited, the more confused he was as little more than teasing was happening, leaving him making hollow, begging moans.
"A naughty somebody cleaned themselves up earlier today, didn't they? Secretly hoping to bag me the whole time, Carter?" Alton mused from between the mouse's legs before languidly crawling over him, looking him dead in the eye.
"Kinda... I was hoping something would happen, but... I always made it a point to clean up before anything. That's the kind of guy I got used to."
The designer clicked his tongue, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on carter's neck. "I don't even need to tell you that you deserve so much better than that," the sugar glider chuckled, sliding down so that his hips were lined up, his hands softly massaging the mouse's hips. "Since you seem to be quite into it, however, would you want to just forego the other foreplay and skip straight to the main event?"
After a careful moment of consideration, Carter nodded. The anticipation was getting to him more than anything, he felt an absolute need for Alton to fill him up. There had to be a more physical connection. It was almost agonizing to wait as Alton shifted down to align himself between the mouse's legs. Each shift in grip, every little change in position was starting to drive him crazy, the anticipation of something more significant, being taken with some real romance... Carter absolutely knew that he wanted to consummate the feelings he had for Alton. He wanted the designer closer and every second he wasn't felt like torture.
With a low, rumbling moan, Alton finally started to move his hips forward, the mouse's tailhole softly blooming open, barely even making any sort of real resistance. His breathing became rough and labored as he felt his partner slowly sinking into him, glancing up to furtively meet his lover's gaze, only to shift his eyes lower in the next moment. He couldn't do much more but feel the texture of the satin sheets as his bare arms skimmed across them, doing little to call his attention away from the fact that he was being taken.
With a soft little push of the sugar glider's hips against his rear, he could finally tell that Alton was all the way in, leaning in closer with a gentle smile. Carter's breath hitched as he could feel a palm against his cheek, bringing them face to face. Something about just how close they truly were at the moment made it far easier for him to meet the sugar glider's gaze, his eyes closing as the male above him moved in for a deep kiss.
By the time the kiss had broken off, Alton had already slid himself most of the way out of Carter, ready to make his first real thrust into him. He couldn't stand to have his partner's lips obscured, he wanted to hear every little reaction the mouse had, as it happened. And react the boy did, making a rather sharp moan as they met together again.
The sound of it excited Alton so much, he simply had to hear it again. Fortunately, he knew just how to make it. Carter started to feel slightly light-headed as the sugar glider on top of him started to make a pace. He'd never quite had sex this good before, every single thrust making something just that much more evident; if this was how good sex felt with an earnest emotional connection, he wasn't going without ever again.
It felt better with every passing second, the mouse finally able to trust who he was with enough to just let go and enjoy every second. There was no nervousness to make it hurt. No tension to be had over worrying about what the morning after was going to be like. All Carter could feel was the rhythmic thrusting into him and all the pleasure that it brought
As they continued, Alton very quickly realized that he wasn't going to have to take it easy on his partner. The male really started to lean into his thrusts, eliciting new, stronger reactions from the fur under him, every single one of them positive. He wondered to himself if he'd have to meter himself; he wanted the both of them to get to the climax of the evening at about the same time. Truth be told, as much as he was enjoying it, Carter seemed to be loving it just that much more.
It almost turned into a little game of control for the sugar glider. He enjoyed seeing just how far he could push his partner and merely leaving him teetering on the edge, giving him time to claim more ground. Outside of the needy moans the fur under him was making every time he came just short of finishing, he seemed to be loving it too.
For Carter, loving it was barely enough to scratch the surface of how he felt. He knew it was the same vigor, the same wet friction it was familiar with, but the release of being with Alton almost felt transcendent. It almost felt like torture that he apparently wasn't allowed to finish, but, deep down, given the control the designer always demonstrated he was fine foregoing his own. Deep down he knew he was in good hands.
Any time they'd saved foregoing any foreplay had long since been expended. The male on top had lost track, and the one on the bottom was in no condition to keep it. All they knew is that by now, it almost felt like an eternity had passed since they'd started, and that it was perfectly fine if it would take another before they'd both finished. The exact length had long since become irrelevant, what was important was how much they felt they needed.
As Alton finally did get close, he almost felt the smallest pang of regret. Watching his partner writhe in pleasure under him, awash in the dim neon glow that trickled in from the nearby window... it was heavenly, far beyond any of the other little trysts he'd engaged in before. Each thrust was so passionate, each little twitch and noise his partner made so revealing that he felt disappointed that this little dance ever had to end. The sugar glider knew one thing however; if he had to plan to the ending, it was going to finish on a truly grand crescendo.
In the time it took the designer to get to the edge, Carter had already resorted to begging. His mind was an absolute haze, sure that one proper thrust could force him right over the edge. He found himself mewling for more, sounding out his lover's name between breathy moans to plead for the climax he'd been yearning for the whole time. His prayers were finally answered with a few heavy thrusts, and a heartfelt kiss.
The mouse was the first to finish, the hair trigger that had built up over the last few minutes being pressed with full force. With one fluttering moan, the mouse's cock began to twitch, shot after shot of his own sticky white cum dousing his chest. He didn't care in the slightest that he was making a mess of himself, because he knew in a few moments his tailhole would be a mess too.
It started much slower than Carter's, but in no time at all, Alton was emptying himself into the mouse below him, the sudden climax almost making Carter feel like he was getting more full by the second. They could both feel that each thrust was getting more and more slippery, both the inside and outside of the mouse matching how dirty their thoughts had been the whole encounter.
It was only after their bodies had slumped together in complete and total bliss that Carter even realized just how exhausted he was. It was almost a herculean effort not to simply pass out where he lay, but the effort was worth it if it meant spending more time with Alton, like this. The sugar glider was crumpled into a bleary heap, mostly on top of him, but what was more important than his position was his demeanor.
A bleary smile crept across the sugar glider's muzzle as he leaned in to gently kiss the mouse on the cheek. There was a softness in his motions that took away the mystique that made him feel in any way intimidating. That same softness traveled into his voice, as he shakily leaned in to speak, mumbling in probably the loudest voice he could muster at that moment.
"Please tell me that was as good for you as you made it for me."
Carter could tell they were absolutely meant to be together.
The next morning, the mouse wasn't even sure how they'd gotten under the covers. He assumed it happened around the same time as Alton's disrobing, his all but nude form splayed out from what most likely began as a spirited cuddle. After surveying his surroundings, an idle thought popped into his head, one that made him grin from ear to ear as he looked the sugar glider over. He did deserve this. Because he deserved Alton and Alton deserved him.