Hawk in VR (m/m) (scene)
A friend asked me what Hawk would be like in a world where you had to use VR to interact with other people, as if there was a pandemic or climate catastrophe or something that made it dangerous to go outside (HMM HOW TOPICAL). So I ended up writing this scene. Note that the other person in it is a lizard person although they claim that they're a dragon.
Hawk stood around waiting for someone to open the door. While he waited, he took a puff from his cigar, then let the smoke roll up out over his teeth as the momentary rush of tobacco flavor overcame his mouth and then wafted into his nose. As quick as the sensations came over him, they were gone.
The door chime sounded, followed by the door itself. If he hadn't wanted anyone entering, they wouldn't have even seen the door. Iridescent blackness shone through the gap, and then a person stepped into the room as it from black fog.
They were a lizard, or more accurately a wingless bipedal red dragon wearing leather shorts, a motorcycle jacket and harness, fingerless gloves, and goth stomper boots that featured not just laces, not just zippers, but buckles in addition to the other two means of closure. Despite being a dragon, the incoming male was an entire head shorter than the black wolf's six and a half feet.
"Well, you're a dapper fucking wolf," the dragon said, voice deep but with a pronounced vocal fry that sounded like the speaker had turned down a pitch knob and then adjusted some "make it sound like a person again" knob that thinned out the sound.
Hawk took another puff from the cigar, and blew a stream of smoke towards the dragon. The mythical lizard sniffed at the air and then huffed. Hawk stepped forward and ashed the cigar into an ashtray, then continued to approach. His tall boots clacked sharply against the wooden floor. "Yeah? You're a little fucking punk," he said, then grinned. The smile rose farther up the left side of his face than the right.
"You said you were gonna change into something more comfortable," the dragon said, and made 'bunny ears' in the air with his clawed fingers.
The wolf took off his leather suit jacket, left his black leather dress gloves, and began pulling one boot free of his leg while balancing on the other. The dragon turned around with his arms crossed over his chest and laughed. "Are you for real?"
"No, I'm a fuckin' hologram," Hawk snapped, and set his boot aside. The dragon stared at him. "You got some kinda problem? I know you said you had attitude but there's my kinda attitude, then apparently your kind."
"You don't have to actually take your clothes off, I mean shit," the dragon said, then made like he was taking an invisible jacket off from over his real one. The leather disappeared into thin air, leaving his shoulders and arms covered in snug leather that went straight from shoulder down to halfway to his claws on each finger, buckled unnecessarily down each arm. The harness stayed on his chest, and the shorts became a pair of chap shorts and a bulging black jockstrap pouch.
Hawk lifted one of his gloved hands up like he was holding an invisible small rod. As he did so, his boot retraced its path from the floor to an unseen hand to back up his leg. "You think I'm some kinda idiot? You think I'm some stupid old wolf?" He then snapped his fingers and his outfit changed entirely, black leather mafia boss suit replaced with leather chest armor, codpieced riding pants, thigh-high cavalier boots, long swordsman's gloves, and an impressive cape lined with cashmere which billowed down slightly after it appeared. He started walking forward while the dragon stood his ground
"I don't dress like this just because. I enjoy everything about it. How it feels, how it looks, how it smells. I'm not gonna just blink it in place because you're impatient." he snapped again and the outfit fluttered into a leather gunslinger's coat, riding gloves, gun belt and riding pants, leather straight chaps and leather-soled cowboy boots with loud clanky spurs, and the final touch of a leather cowboy hat featuring small canine teeth around the hatband. "I care about stuff like that. And I take it you don't." He snapped again, this time looking like the black leather version of a science-fiction authoritarian stormtrooper, a leather bodysuit akin to a motorcycle racing suit that zipped up the center, leather polished synthetic gauntlets, black leather gloves, matching polished plastic boot gaiters and heavy engineer-cut leather boots.
The dragon stood his ground until Hawk bumped him, then jolted and stepped backwards. "I dunno, maybe this wasn't a good idea," he said, voice caustic instead of fearful. "Like I'm totally down to fuck you based on your reputation but jesus, you just come at someone the second they walk in-"
Hawk flung his control hand down and brought the other up. He snapped again for effect, and this time the dragon was abruptly chained back against a wooden X. The lizard hissed and struggled at the sudden bonds.
"Hey, what the hell, man? You can't just tie me up like this,"
Hawk spread his arms out, a real gesture of scenery-chewing cocky incredulity. "Uhoh, if I didn't, then who did?" He brought his hand to the 'holding something up' gesture again, and made a more typical swirl with two gloved fingers. The X turned into a headstock that crouched the dragon down forward.
"Hey asshole I'm actually having trouble moving!" The dragon's struggles turned choppy as whatever he actually was doing in real space was too far exceeding what was allowed in the context of being restrained. "You fucker, how can you turn this haptic shit up this high? Are you gonna blackmail me or something? Cuz if you think I've got any shit, you're way wrong," he laughed the way someone laughs when pretending they aren't scared.
The wolf swirled his hand the other way and the headstock turned into a leather straightjacket. The dragon toppled to the floor and twitched impossibly, followed by a clutter of static where his voice should have been. "-fuckin' interface off! I'm done with this shit!" The green lizard then froze and faded out into speckles.
Hawk sighed and made a tacky 'cut it out' scissors and over-back throw gesture, which caused the room to disappear down to the spare bedroom he'd turned into his virtual fuck room. "Alright, Candy. See if that shit tried to do anything while he was jacked in here. Do a security scan."
"Scanning for threats, Mister Wolf," came a voice that was so much a film noir damsel that Hawk could smell the cigarette smoke. "No threats detected."
The wolf walked out of the room and down the hallway to his cigar den. He picked up an actual cigar, then sat down in his Eames chair, slid on an actual pair of leather riding boots to match his leather riding gloves, and grunted through his teeth. "Alright Candy, is that training update for my secret program done?" After he spoke, he wafted the cigar over a plasma lighter until it burst into flame, then shook it out and had a real puff. Actual smoke wafted out into the room.
"The training update for Companion Simulation Number Forty-two Thousand And Sixty Nine completed two hours ago, Mister Wolf."
Hawk scoffed as he reclined back and unzipped his haptic suit's groin zipper, then untucked his black cock from its neoprene stim-sleeve. "Fuck, Candy, remind me not to name my sex programs when I'm fucking baked," he said into the air, while absently wiggling his cock by the foreskin between two fingers.
"When would you like the reminder, Mister Wolf?"
"God dammnit! Just play the program. Fuck, Alright Candy, play the simulation we just talked about."
A soft chime filled the opulent room and several patterned light projectors turned on with dull red glows. Moments later, two male red foxes seemed to walk in the door but appeared from nowhere the same as the lizard had. One of them looked bashful, while the other looked like he was leading whatever scheme they were about to enact. Both of them were spandex swimming briefs that left very little to the imagination.
"Hi, foxies," Hawk said, turning his slobbering Brooklyn baritone up as far into tenor range as he could without sounding patently ridiculous.
"H-hello, Mister Wolf," the shy one said, while curling his tail around his thighs. The other responded with a grin and a "pfft" through his teeth.
"You two look like you were just out for a swim and some sun, huh?" Hawk let go of his cock and instead of flopping flaccid over onto his neoprene-clad thigh, it just sagged over to the side, throbbing faintly with his heartbeat.
The shy fox flatted his black ears back and looked down and to the side. After a few seconds, the other one gave him a jab to the shoulder. "We were looking for a private place to uh, you know," Shy Fox said, and reached over to take the other fox's black hand in an affectionate gesture. "But this is the only place that wasn't full of people and I didn't s-s-see you in it."
"C'mon, stop being such a little spazz," the other fox said, then took his friend and gave him a peck on the side of the muzzle.
Hawk groaned and shifted in the chair, boots squeaking against each other as he started to slowly milk his foreskin over his erection. "Don't worry, I don't mind watching. You need somethin' to bend over or whatever? Here you go," he said, then pulled his boots from the matching ottoman and gave it a push forward with his heel.
Meanwhile, the confident fox didn't stop trying to kiss his friend, to the point that the shy fox started to squirm and resist. Hawk sat up even further. "Hey Candy," he said, the words prompting absolutely no reaction from the two anthro vulpines. They were busy playing a game of 'no means yes' which didn't sound much like a game this time around. "Alright, Candy, you did good. I mean the training's update's good. Perfect. A-plus."
"I will make a note of it, Mister Wolf."
Definitely perfect, Hawk thought, then took his cigar out of his muzzle, held up his cock-stroking hand, and spat into the leathered palm.