FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I sat beside Berthold with growing discomfort as I watched him paint the nude fox that lay on his couch. I had no right to be jealous, and I was painfully aware of that fact. However, I was also aware that no matter how I tried to rationalize my emotions, that wouldn't make them go away. I tried to divert my attention to the actual problems I was dealing with, but as I'd taken refuge at Berthold's apartment to stay away from my brother, I could only face one issue or another. My brother had mentioned some issue with the tiger he'd been doing a bit more than sleeping with, and so I had gotten out of there as quickly as possible. James' proclivity to obsessing with anything but what was causing him trouble tended to make things far worse for him when the rain eventually became a storm, and I didn't have the time or energy to deal with his complaining while I had football practice on top of awaiting the results of my admissions test. I nearly snorted at the thought of my LSATs, which I had neglected to tell Berthold anything about, much like how I'd ignored my first opportunity to take the test a month prior to meeting him. I was sure the wolf knew that something was bothering me, but since he hadn't asked for information, I hadn't volunteered any. Again, I knew this was unfair to Berthold, who was carefully stroking in the snowy details of Cain's sleeping body against the backdrop of his black sofa. Looking between the canvas on my wolf's easel and to the arctic fox laying stone-still some feet away on the couch, I felt a glow as Berthold brought to life some vision that had previously only been seen by himself. Simply being near the wolf while he worked was always enough to make me feel as if I had the talent, or even freedom, to do whatever I pleased if only I looked at what things could be. This sensation always fled once he put the paints away. When I had first asked Berthold why nude men were posing on his furniture a week prior, he had simply looked at me with his mismatched eyes and said, 'Because I asked them to,' prompting me to choke on my spit. "My professor approached me with the concern that I paint too many naked men for my own pleasure." He'd explained further, turning back to the canvas and the slimly muscled, red-haired goat whose arm trailed off the cushions unlike the actual model, who did a poor job of disguising his eavesdropping. "I decided to prove him wrong by painting more naked men in a manner that elicits emotion. As such, Carson here has been poisoned." When I had later inquired as to how many of his models were gay, the wolf looked me in the eyes and shrugged before admitting that he was pretty sure most of them were hoping to get into his pants. While Berthold paid his bills with his art, I was a law student. Unlike my brother, who had chosen his career path explicitly to displease our father, I had chosen mine in an attempt to abate, or even please him. This was a role that I was used to, but it did nothing to abate my own frustration. Berthold's calm voice speared my train of thought to bring me back to the present, and only then did I realize I had growled aloud. "Pubbear, I don't want to be a grievance, but would you mind waiting in the bedroom until I'm done here?" I blushed and tore my gaze from the spot somewhere behind Cain that I had been glaring at unseeingly, not missing the look of severe discomfort the fox wore as I did. Turning to my boyfriend, I could plainly see the concern alight in his odd-colored eyes. "It will only be about twenty minutes more, Jasper." He said, "I have to finish this, but I'll join you soon." "Y-yeah, of course." My face burned beneath my white fur, and my heart pounded in my chest as I stood quickly, almost shoving the stool I sat on off its legs. Nodding my head vigorously, I circled around Berthold's easel, going between him and his model. "I'll see you later, Cain." The arctic fox made only minimal effort to respond as he resituated himself, but Berthold reached out to stop me before I entered the hallway on his other side, pulling me down into a snow-soft kiss. "I love you, Jasper." He said softly. The wolf's orange and blue eyes gazed into mine intensely, and I was comforted as I leaned forward to kiss him once more. It had only taken three words, a plaintive assurance he had no issues sharing in front of strangers, and the touching of lips for my wolf to calm me, and my thoughts seemed to settle like fresh snow. As I lumbered down the hall with walls laden with paintings of polar bears and wolves that I knew Berthold would never sell, I heard him speak in a strained voice, "I'm sorry for the distraction, he's been stressed." The impact of the bedroom door shutting behind me was cacophonous.

When Berthold entered the sparsely decorated room thirty-five minutes later I was undressed and mostly calm, laying across his single mattress and gazing blankly at the ceiling. The scant light of the evening had faded, and now the only illumination came from the bright bulbs attached to the whirring ceiling fan. He grunted to announce his presence and I watched him make his way across the room, stripping himself to his underwear as he went. I rolled onto my side to make room for him when he came to the bed and when he was comfortable, Berthold took my arm and draped it over him. The room was quiet for a time, and being reluctant to speak first, I busied myself with sweeping my large paw through the downy black fur of my wolf's stomach. Gazing at Berthold, I knew he was chewing words over in his mind-the faraway look in his eyes was always recognizable, even when I could only see one of them like now. "You aren't doing well." Berthold said finally, breaking the silence. I didn't immediately reply, but the hesitation of my paw's combing motions was telling enough for him to continue, all while still gazing at the ceiling as I had been not five minutes prior. "Something's bothering you, Jasper." "I didn't think you'd noticed." The words slipped from my mouth, harsher than I had intended. Now Berthold turned to me, his brows wrinkled with confusion. "I was waiting for you to tell me what was wrong." "That isn't what I meant, Valp," I said, using the nickname I'd coined for him the night we met as a distraction while I sought for words to mend my unintentional jab. "Then tell me what you mean, Jasper." Berthold's voice strained, his accent laying heavily on the words as he gazed at me intensely. "Tell me what is wrong." Oddly, even though I had just been lamenting Berthold's lack of concern, or lack of displaying such, I now had the audacity to feel reluctant in sharing with him. I looked at him for a long minute with my mouth agape, chewing over words before I could finally ask him for a moment to think. I was a polar bear: thick-skinned and thick-skulled, my father would say. I was not a psych major like my brother; I couldn't reason my way out of feeling bad or decide something wasn't worth feeling negative about. I also was not my father; I was unable to snap out of it and move on to "real" problems. Instead I had to focus and obsess over them until they were solved. As a law student, it was my job to solve problems logically. And here was Berthold, who so easily hid his emotions behind eyes like walls of amber and sapphire, but unable to disguise the hurt that I had caused him. I reached out to grasp his paw in mine, and my words solidified on my tongue. "There were scouts at my last game." I stated flatly. Berthold's grip tightened around my paw and his eyes narrowed; the wolf thought he could see where I was going, but he couldn't yet connect the dots. "Yes?" "Football scouts," I continued, explaining. "They watch to evaluate players and determine if they could be drafted for professional teams." "You are worried that they are watching you and evaluating your performance poorly." Berthold responded, understanding lighting his eyes. "Partly," I said, my thumb rubbing against the knuckle his. Now, regret at not mentioning my entrance tests bubbled forth as I continued my explanation. "The other part is my LSAT exams." "The exams to decide readiness to enter law school, the ones you took leave for last month." Berthold said, not missing a beat. While I had a guess at someone who might have told him about it, I still found myself awed by the insight my wolf had into the machinations of my life. My surprise was apparently apparent on my face, though, because the wolf continued, all while a smirk pulled at his lips. "You told me that you wouldn't be available for a few days." He said, eyes holding mine while he more or less confirmed my assumption. "Damian's boyfriend was a law student before he dropped out. I assumed for a big test by myself, and Aaron confirmed it for me." I caught myself after a moment, and cleared my throat, which had begun to close without my noticing. "Um, yes. Yeah, that. I'm waiting on my grades for that." Berthold nodded, and I shifted in the bed, moving to sit back against the headboard. The wolf followed suit, leaning against my heavy frame while I wrapped my arm around him. Once we were comfortable, I had also composed myself enough to continue. "The issue I'm facing, Bly, is that I don't know what I want to do. If I failed, I'm going to have to take the test again next month. However, if I want to take my practices seriously and up my performance, that takes time away from studying. Even if I did pass the tests, though..." The thought was stopped by a familiar crawl of anxiety making its way into my stomach, but Berthold anchored it with words as to the point as I had come to expect. "You don't know if you want to go to law school." I nodded and took the wolf's free paw into my own, clasping our fingers tightly. "I don't know what I should do." My wolf was quiet for a moment, gazing across the room. I knew that he was trying to think of a solution to my problem, but it was a subject I'd ruminated over for months. An answer wouldn't be easy, and whatever I chose would be something I'd have to live with. Berthold turned, and he surprised me for the third time that night. "Do what you want, Jasper." He said easily with his intense gaze. I began to frown, but the black wolf stopped me with a squeeze of my paw in his before he continued. "You are not responsible for the issues between your brother and father. You should not have to pick up the slack. Nor are you your father's instrument of pride. You are his son, and what you do should be your choice, while he supports you." "It's not that simple, Berthold." I sighed. I didn't talk much about my family, but it had been inevitable for him to meet my brother and cousin since I shared an apartment with the former and how often the latter stayed for visits. It had quickly been made apparent by conversation, as well as James' behavior and Jules' interactions with my brother how our family's dynamic worked. "I have responsibilities." "You have responsibilities to yourself, Jasper." Berthold insisted. "You are responsible for your own happiness." I couldn't look at him, but I knew that he was right. Neither of us spoke for a long moment, leaving the low whir of the ceiling fan to be the only sound. There were no words, in the end. Rather than speak, I slid down into the bed and pulled my wolf atop me, holding him tight. I kissed him once, twice, and my heart lightened. Berthold giggled and reached up to pull the drawstring attached to the ceiling light, dropping darkness over us with a click. "You've come to a decision, then?" He asked. I shrugged even though I knew Berthold wouldn't easily catch the gesture in the black emptiness. I had something of a paltry plan, but he didn't wait for me to explain, kissing me deeply in the companionable shadows of his bedroom. There was no light to indicate it, but I knew his eyes were searching mine, or the approximate area near them when we pulled away. It had only taken kisses and his weight atop me to excite me, and I knew he felt my erection pressed against his waist just as I felt his, but it went ignored as I wrapped my arms around him and rolled us onto our sides. Eventually, Berthold's breathing slowed and he slept. Despite my tired mind, the racing thoughts of half-formed ideas to proceed held me awake some time longer.

Sex is perhaps my second-favorite thing to wake up to, surpassed only by a homemade breakfast. Considering Berthold's aversion to spending more than five minutes in his kitchen at any given time, I would eagerly take the pleasure of pressing myself into and against him over eggs and sausage. Sex with the black wolf never ceased to leave me breathless, and somehow, always eager for more. Something about Berthold invigorated me both physically and mentally, and it left me amazed without fail. Perhaps it was something about Berthold's deep mismatched eyes as he hungrily waited for my snow-furred hips to press against his ass. His legs wrapped around my waist while I pounded away into him with teeth gritted and fingers bunching the sheets to abate my own orgasm, I watched while his eyes crossed and he howled long and loud, undoubtedly alerting any neighbors beside or below who were home at noon. It could just as easily be the sonorous voice with which he teased me the first time I came or made him come the third. The strongest possibility could be the satisfied look he gave me when we were done and the shakiness of his gait when he went to bathe. I showered quickly and dressed for the day; Berthold was only slightly more clothed than myself when I left his bedroom and found him setting up several clean canvases, clad in bright blue trunks that accentuated his everything. His explanation for scant dress during appointments was to make his naked models more comfortable, but I had a feeling he was something of an exhibitionist. "You have class tonight, right?" I asked, watching as he took a gulp from the tall glass that sat on the stool beside him. I didn't smell alcohol, so assumedly it was simple orange juice. He nodded, and I stepped forward to wrap my arms around him. I didn't have class for another hour, but I'd still need to get across town from his apartment complex after stopping for something to eat. Berthold squeaked as I squeezed him; he smelled of his grapefruit body wash, as did I, but below that his natural lupine spice threatened to arouse me again and I stepped away. "I'll see you at the bar tonight, Damian texted me yesterday." I said as I made my way to the door. Berthold again nodded, he was already distracted with ideas for today's models. That was fine, I needed to focus on how I would break it to my father that I intended to let my classes take a back seat in deference to focusing on football. That train of thought was halted, though, as I opened the door to find a mountain lion from the football team standing outside the door, paw raised in preparation to knock. "O-oh! Jasper, are you here for Berthold's modeling appointments?" The cougar's pale green eyes darted over my shoulder and I looked to see where the wolf was gazing curiously to behold the newcomer. "Ah, no, Scott," I replied, stepping out of the way so that Berthold could wave the young feline into the apartment. "But I've gotta head out to class. I'll see you at practice?" Berthold stepped between us then, kissing me softly before pointing the cougar around the corner and into the living room; the edgeless taste of citrus confirmed his choice in beverage. In the moment before the cat disappeared and I remembered the quickly waning time before class, I noted the drooping of Scott's tail when Berthold had kissed me. I shrugged it off as I jogged down the flights of stairs to my car. I was known to be out among the players of the football team and no one tended to bothered me about it aside from the occasional locker-room jeer from a freshman. Scott was a second-string quarterback, I recalled as I settled into the driver seat of my Impala. He had a strong arm, but lacked confidence in his judgement, and so was often sacked if defense scrambled a play. As I put the vehicle into reverse and pulled out of the parking lot, I remembered Berthold's acknowledgement that many of his models were in at least some way interested in him. I didn't suspect Scott until much later.