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Wild Thing

By DirtCoyote

I shouldn't have been here at this party. This marble fox doesn't fit in and everyone knows it. There's a group of guys just standing next to me, joking and laughing their asses off loudly. It's embarrassing that I'm so close, and yet, galaxies away from the conversation.

The room gradually shifts in red, orange, blue, yellow, and green lights. Back and forth, almost dizzying me as I stand around stupid with a cup in my paws. I don't know anyone here and my invite was done out of pity. I'd just been sitting in the cafeteria at my college when a hare mistook me for someone else and felt too ashamed to rescind the invitation.

But, I put on some nice clothes, at least, what I think is nice: Jeans and a white cargo shirt. I'm just glad I took out my fucking pocket protector before getting here. Fuck, I'm so lame. Why did I even come here if I was just gonna be sipping booze and standing alone with my tail curled around my waist.

I scan the room, thinking it might be my time to thank the host and get back to my place in the dorms. There's a stack of anime DVDs waiting for me that I've only watched a hundred times before. Watching them live their insane lives is more than enough adventure for me.

That's when I notice him.

Another marble fox standing across the room staring at me. His eyes are piercing, the same crystal blue eyes that I have, just resting on me and me alone. At least, I think so. He could be eyeing me, waiting for me to move away from the drink table to get his own.

I shift a little to the side, his gaze following and I know for certain it's me he's looking at. Even though there's a wolf by his side, clearly talking to him as he sloshes a drink back and forth, he's more interested in me. A smirk is stuck to his muzzle and it's intimidating. He's got on a loose fitting tank top that's barely hanging off his shoulders. It's so long, covering most of his khaki shorts, that it could be described as ill-fitting if he wasn't pulling it off so well.

What sticks out the most is the flower crown on his head. I don't recognize the pedals, and they seem too large to be real. They shift colors with the lights of the room, just like the white and gray on his muzzle. A dazed look hangs in his eyes as he stares at me, and like the rest of his demeanor, he just seems so laid back and chill.

Like a Wild Thing.

His look becomes a little oppressive and I shift uncomfortably underneath it. I'm ready to just leave, scamper away from this fox that looks too cool to be interested in me, but wait! The fox says something to the wolf, dismissing himself casually as he starts towards me.

I can't think of a reason why. My glasses feel crooked on my muzzle and I adjust them like the dork I am. Trying to recover, I bring the drink in my paw up to my muzzle, and take a sip only for most of it to dribble over my chin. Why can't I do anything cool?

I brush the liquid off with the back of my wrist, probably looking worse than before but the Wild Thing just chuckles. He's sleek, wirey, flowing between the other guests like wind. His fur pattern is similar to mine, very close as it glows red, orange, blue, yellow, and green with the shifting lights.

"Hi," I let out in a whisper, and then realizing he probably can't hear me, I say too loud, "Hello!"

He keeps that same smirk and says back, just loud enough, "Hey there."

Trying at a conversation, I point up at his crown and say, "I like your flowers."

The Wild Thing nods politely and softly replies, "I had fun making it."

There's a pause as his gaze moves from mine for the first time, taking a second to eye me up and down. I feel underdressed, but he seems to like what he's looking at. He's a little close, closer than I'm used to, but I can't get my legs to move back. With my free paw, I brush my tail around my waist to relax until it unwinds behind me.

The Wild Thing steps beside to the drink table and grabs a cup. Despite all the attention flustering me a second ago, his immediate dismissal of me feels empty. He's just fixing himself a cocktail, not turning to me. It's at that moment that I realize, I'm the one staring at him now and feel a bit abashed. I should've known he wasn't interested in me.

A sudden flash of embarrassment and anger in myself strafed through my core and I decided it was time to leave. Just as my foot made the first step towards the door, a paw grabs hold of my arm. I turned to see the Wild Thing holding me while tipping the cup into his muzzle, guzzling the liquid down audibly.

I let him hold me, his relaxed grip not too forceful, until he was finished and sat the drink down onto the table. "If you wanna leave, I know someplace we can go," he says with alcohol fumes cascading off his breath, wrinkling my nose.

His words are so confident, without any hesitation or thought. He lets go of me and flicks his head to the side towards a hallway. I peer over him, down the dark passage he wants to lead me and then back to the front door that'll take me to safety. But my muzzle is drawn back to the Wild Thing.

He's so handsome, and though the other marble fox looks similar to me, he's so much more. I don't just want to be with him. I want to be him, and I want to gain a fraction of what he has just through osmosis. So, trying to imitate his coolness, I say, "Sure."

Without another word, he turns to the hallway and walks away. I'm left standing for a second, and only with the swish of his thick flowing tail, do I realize I'm supposed to be following. I don't even set down my drink, trying to catch up to him in large steps.

While he ambles through the bodies, men and women my age flirting with each other carelessly, I'm left awkwardly stumbling between them. An Oops, I'm Sorry here and an Excuse Me, Pardon Me there, I manage to just barely follow behind. It feels like there's eyes on me, not just judging my clumsiness. My head gets the better of me and I hear voices questioning how I was the one who the Wild Thing approached.

He's so out of my league, and yet, I'm the one he wants. I know, because a single eye turns back to make sure I'm following. He doesn't take the first door, like he knows where he's going. I think he might live here. Like he just plucked his prey from the crowd and was dragging it to his den. I don't mind. I'd gladly be his, if he had me.

It's the third room before he grabs the handle and twists, the door opening silently as his footsteps. There's no lights, but the glim glow of the moon illuminates the room. He turns, making sure I followed, and I feel a little comfort that seems so eager I stayed with him. I step with him inside and he doesn't hesitate to pull me into a kiss.

Both of his paws are on the collar of my shirt, stretching it as he forces his lips against mine. His claws tear at the fabric, and I'm worried for a second that he might just shred my clothes rather than let me take them off. My paws straddle his sides, holding him to steady myself as he pulls us towards a bed.

The Wild Thing sure lives up to the name I've given him, because he is after me like a beast. He lets go of my shirt just to slide a paw up underneath it and start yanking it off of me. Even as the kiss breaks momentarily to pull it over my head, he is relentlessly back to nibbling my lip.

My huffs are hard like his, our breath mixing as we tangle paws around each other. I fling his shirt to the side, my pants come off and are kicked aimlessly away. I've never done this before, but my instincts take over. It's not long before I'm down to my tighty whities and he's wearing nothing but what god gave him. And his flower crown, of course

I'm pushed backward, a worried yipe escapes my muzzle fearing I'm about to hit the floor. The soft squeak of a mattress underneath me breaks my fall and I'm left scrambling to grab the sheets. I try to hoist myself back up, but a paw lands on my chest and holds me down. I'm worried for a second this might be too rough, but the claws tracing sensually underneath the fur on my belly tells me it's exactly as rough as I'd ever wanted it. Just fast!

A warm wet tongue wraps around my length, and I lean my head back deep into the comforter. My teeth are grit, and it's all I can do to keep myself from moaning out loudly over the noise of the party. His lips draw back and forth against my cock and the warm breath of his own moans wash over me. One paw stays on my stomach, digging in lines perfectly over my sensitive spots. The other is handling my balls, rolling them around and squeezing them gently between his fingers.

He's getting me close, and it's happening too fast. I can feel him edging me towards the point of no return without even taking me in his muzzle. A hot embarrassment is flooding over my mind, not sure how to tell him to slow down or stop. Though, if I'm being honest. I desperately don't want him to slow or stop anything. Before I can though, he pulls his lips off my cock and stands to his feet.

"You should be wet enough now," he says, extending a paw for me. I'm not sure what he's talking about and I stare up at him dumbly, my brain still floating in my head.

He shakes his outstretched paw again, and I blink before taking it. I'm off the bed and he takes my spot, crawling up on all fours and holding his tail up with a paw. His backside is fully presented to me, and I realize now what I'm supposed to be doing.

"Are you sure?" I ask, already crawling up behind him.

He only gives a nod and flicks his tail from right to left. I touch the tip of my prick against his hole, the warmth sending shivers up my spine. With only my spit and pre for lube, I lean forward and enter him. A soft purr lets me know that I'm slick enough to be pleasurable.

One paw goes on his back and the other grabs his hips as I inch closer to him. My knees drag on the sheets. I can barely see him, but I don't need to. Just need to feel him; feel his hole wrapping around my cock as I push into him.

There's a moan of pleasure, and I'm not sure if it's me or him. Our pants and huffs become one, just over the slapping sound of my thrusts. I instinctively lean over him, fucking his ass doggy style. My paw wraps around his length and I begin pumping him to my thrusts.

Each pull and push sends waves of serotonin through my brain. His cock is slick in my grip, pre stickying my paw pads and the fur between my fingers. I dip my muzzle low, nibbling against the other marble fox's nape. A sense of pride envelopes me as I realize I, me alone, am the one taming this Wild Thing underneath.

My climax is quickly approaching, and I know his is too. He's leaking like a hose, pre covering my fur and the bed. I tighten my paw around his shaft, pumping him faster as I get close to shooting inside him. He calls out something in his moans, and I think it's my name, though I'm sure I didn't tell him that. His reward is my teeth sinking into the fur at the back of his neck. I feel his cock spurting just as I hit the point of no return.

I knock my knot against him, once, twice, three times, but the spit isn't enough to push past his ring. It doesn't matter. My eyes squeeze tight, and I orgasm right into the other fox's insides. Cum shoots deep into him, lining his rectum with my seed.

He's moaning loudly, even with me biting down hard (or because). My paw loosens, and I slump over him. The Wild Thing holds me up on his back as my balls empty into him. There's a sureness that I filled him up so much, my seed is leaking out his backside.

Carefully, he lowers himself until he's on his belly, and I let go of him just as my paw sinks into the puddle he's made. I pull out of him, rolling over onto the bed and taking my paw with me. My paw pulls free from underneath him, wiping most of his spunk onto the sheets and his fur.

With my back on the bed, I stare up to the ceiling and wonder just who I am. Maybe it's the afterglow settling in my head, but I'm feeling particularly proud of myself. I'd never imagined I could just follow a stranger into bed and have sex with him. I'd never so much as given a handjob before.

Part of me wants to ask him if it was as good for him as it was for me, but that sounds stupid. Still, I should at least say something, and the only thing that comes to mind is, "That was amazing." and when I think about it, it's not the dumbest thing I'd ever said.

He hasn't said anything back. I observe my surroundings, seeing a lamp on a nightstand next to me and flicking it on. And that's when I notice it. He's laying on his side, turned away from me and I see the pattern on his back. His marble fur, gray, white, auburn, orange, and red, is so similar to mine. And there is this sun kissed patch of fur on his shoulder that is too familiar.

Way too fucking familiar.

My heart sinks in my chest, and I realize that he's way too like me. I just fucked my cousin. Of course, an idiot like me would abso-fucking-lutely accidently lose his virginity to his cousin. The taboo instantly washes over me, and dread fills my soul. Before I can think of what to do next, possibly sneak off, if not run, grab my clothes and get the fuck out of here, he says patiently, "I'm not your cousin."

He's not looking at me, still turned away. If he's not my cousin, then--

"I'm not a lost twin brother either."

Is he?

"And I'm not reading your mind. Jeez, would you just settle down for a second," he says dismissively.

With a nervous smile on my muzzle, I say anyways, "If you're not reading my mind, you're not making a good case for yourself."

That's when he turns over to face me, and I finally see it. I see me. It's actually me! He's got a sly smirk slapped on his face, just as my muzzle is twisting into a frown. This cannot be happening.

"Yeah, I'm you. Just a little older," he says, reassuringly.

I study him, my eyes going down to his body. He can't be me. Not only is he missing my glasses, but he's just too perfect to be me, too calm and collected. Too amazing. He's the Wild Thing, and I'm--well, I'm just me.

"If you're who you say you are, then you'll be able to answer something I'd only know," I say, trying to think through my thoughts.

I find it; a memory that's only true to me. A little marble fox comes to mind, and I see him gathering dirt and worms to put in his elementary school's teacher purse. I was such a miscreant and I'm about ready to ask him to repeat the story, but his muzzle is pulling back wider than it has before. And I see it, in his eyes, the reflection of my own muzzle, pulling back at the thought of the memory.

We're reliving it together.

"How?" I ask, not needing any proof. Just answers.

Out of nowhere, he holds out his paw for me and I see it sitting on his pads. It's a multicolored pill, shimmering in the dark of the room. He's offering it to me, and I know he wants me to take it. Before I reach out, I've got only one more question:

"Is it safe?"

He gives me a wink, and says, "It's worth it."

I pluck it from his paw and hold it to my eye. It radiates in red, orange, blue, yellow, and green along with every color in-between. The Wild Thing gets comfortable, resting his head on his paw patiently. His smug look tells me he knows what I'm going to do next, and so I take the date with destiny, and pluck it in my maw.

It doesn't taste like anything, but it does hum on my tongue. There's a slight buzz of electricity or something, and I hesitate to swallow. I consciously have to will myself to get it down, and I feel it roll against my throat. Even sitting at the bottom of my stomach, I can still fill it inside me.

"Well?" I ask, expecting something to have happened by now.

The Wild Thing chuckles and says, "Oh right." Then, faster than I could have anticipated, he snatches the glasses off the bridge of my muzzle. "I wanted these back."

"Hey!" I exclaim, ready to take them off his face. Just as my arm reaches out to grab them, I watch in horror as my paw disintegrates. I stare down at where my arm used to be, jaw trembling. I turn back up to him, that smug look annoying the shit out of me, and say the only thing that comes to mind, "oh, you mother fucker--"

Reality folds in on itself, like a book being slapped shut an inch in front of my nose. It becomes apparent that my body is no longer my vessel. I've been split into a billion atoms and the only thing that exists of me is my consciousness. I clutch desperately at anything, but with no arms and no clue of what to do, I'm just thrown about between time and space.

My thoughts are the only thing that are held together, but even thinking feels like walking miles between ideas. Time itself is lost on me as my consciousness flings through the void I exist in. I try hard, trying to remember what I am or was or will be, putting myself back together like scooping sand on a beach.

And all at once, I find a foothold. I am born. My name is Thomas Forewind. My father, a serf, kisses me on the forehead as he lays eyes on me the first time. I'm a boy, a wolf cub, and I tend the fields with my family. I grow into quite the rambunctious teen.

With my friends, I dance at the slightest start of a beat and when I sing, it's louder than anyone else. Anything to impress the barmaids and my friends. It's joyous for a time, and I couldn't imagine anything better than this.

There's a raid and in the span of a few hours, all of my friends and family are gone. As smoke rises from smoldering buildings, I am left orphaned, angry, and hollowed. I am asked to fight for my kingdom against these raiding neighbors, and I do so gladly.

With my shield wrapped around my arm, I clash against a leopard coming at me. He's an older man, maybe a veteran and he's confident. He swings his sword at me with precise thrusts, but I knock his blows away easily. I am good at this. He dies by the swipe of my blade, and I look for the next opponent.

Ten more come at me, one after the other, and there's ten corpses I'm left walking away from. I'm reveling in my prowess. Who'd have thought I could be a killer? I approach a fox, a boy like me. He's terrified, already seeing what I can do. The other teen throws down his sword in surrender, stumbling backwards as I approach. All I do is smile, thinking this one would be easiest.

I raise my sword, ready to strike him on the ground, but I recognize the fear on the vulpine's muzzle. It looks like...me? I realize just what I've become. I don't want to be this! I'm not Thomas Forewind! I am...I was something else. This doesn't make sense, and reality falls apart again. Thomas Forewind disappears on the battlefield, and is labeled a disserter, never to be seen or heard of again.

I am tossed again in the ocean, and I feel my thoughts swimming against a current. My consciousness is thrown about, and I look for something to stand on. But without a body or any physical manifestation, it's like trying to stand on the waves itself.

I'm a skunk now. My parents name me Julia after my grandmother. I like helping people, and I'm gonna be a doctor someday. The path is so clear to me, all throughout highschool and college, and I don't waver the slightest. They put me in the ER, and I'm ready to save some lives.

But a gas leak across town causes an explosion on my first night. There's too many people coming in all at once, and the hospital is immediately overwhelmed. We're short beds, short staff, and I am made to pick who I can treat and who I can't.

A bull, barely recognizable under his singed fur, grabs my arm and begs me to help him. I can barely understand him over the dozens of screams filling the hall. This isn't right. It comes rushing back to me, and I wish it wasn't happening right now when I'm needed most. I'm not a doctor. I can't save him. I can't save anyone. The last thing I see before I'm swallowed back into oblivion is the bull's eyes staring blankly into nothing.

The only thing left of Julia is an unsolved mystery tv special of a doctor vanishing in the middle of an ER.

Again, I'm caught between the planes of reality. I feel it now though. It's not an ocean of water, but the area beneath the zero-point of space itself. The sea of gluons pass me back and forth like dough in the fingers of a baker. They rise up like bubbles to the surface, and I follow them once more to existence.

When I am little, I give myself the name Wynn. My parents think this little non-binary bear cub is going through a phase, but it sticks all throughout my life, and they learn to accept it. I am lucky. It's when I'm in the junior ranger program that I learn my first crush early: Nature.

I love it more than anything and it's enough to satisfy my needs. In the trees, the flowers, the red, orange, blue, yellow, and green of its body, do I know it cares for me as well. There's no man or woman for me. Its love is unrelenting and a hundred times more than what I or anyone else could ever express.

My first and last job is a park ranger, sworn to preserve nature's beauty for future generations.Though the national park program throws me all over the country, I finally settle on a green valley where the sun sets right at the end of a canyon. I take pride in my work, and even when I'm pushed into retirement, I stay closeby.

I take one last hike up the mountains, forcing my bones to make this final trek. There's a boulder I'm able to climb up, and I rest with my legs dangling over the edge. Life's been good to me, and there's no other way I would have done this. With my finishing breath, I let out a sigh and give myself back to the ether. Wynn disappears just as the sun sets.

I am once more.

And it's me this time.

I'm sitting atop of the void, floating as mere consciousness in space. The sun's warmth, even a dozen million miles away, wraps my existence in a blanket. With a level head, I see my atoms scattered through the whole of the universe.

Like a child with building blocks, I put myself back together in the recess of space. I admit, it takes me a little longer than I wanted: just a few decades of pulling piece by piece to me and stacking them on top of one another. When I get to my eyes, I can see the slight astigmatism and choose to leave it, putting each part of myself back together the way it was until I can see again.

As a marble fox floating in nothingness, I ponder what I've done and what I shall do next. There's a momentary flash of guilt that bubbles up. Thomas, Julia, and Wynn were all created because I couldn't find control and they lived real lives with real people, only for me to have pulled them from existence.

I'd wished the Wild Thing would have warned me, but I worry if that would've changed my decision. Instead, I have to live with and as them, taking their memories and their feelings along for the rest of my journey. But I remember me too, and I remember I had my own ambitions to fulfill.

And like a dork, the first thing I think of is to see a black hole. I'd always been fascinated with sci-fi, and imagined what it'd be like to witness one. Now, as what I've become, there's nothing holding me back. I say goodbye to my sun, giving it a small wave, before turning my attention to the galaxies beyond my own, and push myself forward.

Space and light become a blur, and I'm shot a thousand light-years across the universe until I see the black hole I want. I approach it, moving through the void as easy as swimming through a pool. Planets and stars wizz past until I'm safely in viewing range of Messier-87.

It's aweing at first. I can see the acceleration disk burning brighter than anything I'd ever imagined. The raw destruction and power holds me for a few hours, but I'll tell you this: You'd not believe how fast you'd go from, "Wow, a black hole" to "Okay, black holes are kinda boring."

I clap my paws on my sides, rolling my shoulders awkwardly. Part of me feels like I need to excuse myself to be polite, but it's just a black hole. It doesn't really care how entertaining it has to be. So, I point myself to another direction, wave awkwardly anyways, and I find a space bar out a few thousand years in the future, and manifest myself inside.

They don't actually call it a space bar. It's just a bar that happens to be floating in space called Rico's dive and dine. Freighters stop at it to refuel and to relax between asteroid belts and planets. There's a small crowd tonight, and all stop and stare at the naked marble fox standing in the center of the room.

Oops, forgot to put together my clothes. My presence shocks some in the crowd, but a boar in a denim jacket says, "Someone's been going through Sally's personal stash again." Everyone laughs, and the big man stands from his seat at the bar to approach me.

For as large as he is, he doesn't seem to be mad nor does he try to intimidate me in any way; just holds up a paw and asks me if I'm alright. I flick my tail over my privates and nod sheepishly, the attention a little too much. He asks what I'm on, high or drunk, and I chuckle and say I'm sober. Just forgot my clothes.

Then he looks towards the entrance, trying to see if I came in with anyone. He asks me which spaceship I'm piloting or where my crew was, and I shake my head. I say, "I am my own vessel," because not only is that the truth, but it sounds pretty badass.

That just gets another roar of laughter and they find me a table to sit at. A few come and ask me questions, but there's not many answers I can provide. I just wanted to be here and I showed up. The freight drivers manage to wrangle together some clothes for me, and now I'm wearing the loose fitting tank top and cargo shorts the Wild Thing was wearing. Destiny is unfolding in front of me.

Feeling confident, I make conversation with the crowd and learn about their world. They pass me drinks as I explain my journey to get here, and everyone in the bar is invested. I think about my time as Thomas, the medieval wolf, and I remember him at a tavern surrounded as such.

With the alcohol in my system, I think back at a song Thomas sang that really riled the crowd. I thump my glass and stomp my foot, setting the beat while starting the first verse. The men and women follow along, clapping their hands and cheering loud as I jump on the bar and start prancing around in my song.

The whole crowd sings along to my chorus and my heart is filled with their voices. At the end, I repeat the last lines alone and am met with an applause so loud, it shakes the entire station. Why didn't anyone tell me it could be this fun being the center of attention?

The bar settles down and I turn to small conversation with the patrons. I feel Thomas in me, no longer empty and angry; no longer the killer I imagined him to be. He's proud, but it's not him. It's me. I'm Thomas, Julia, Wynn, and the pride I feel isn't for someone else. It's for myself.

That warmth I feel inside is too much, the energy pulsating in me needing release. I hug the boar, thanking everyone for the generosity and kindness, and then turn to the universe and find a spot to land.

It's back on earth. I'm on my back, the ground warm, and the desert's night air cooling my fur. I lay there, appreciating the clear sky above. I can see all the stars and galaxies millions of light-years away, and peek at them like looking through a telescope.

There's two neutron stars colliding there. Over there, there's a couple of aliens performing a form of a wedding with hundreds of guests surrounding them. All around is planets and stars and civilizations, all mine to explore. But a hollowed metal thud of something being kicked catches my attention.

"We're stranded!" a voice cries out.

I lift up, turning my attention away from the space above and to my surroundings. There's a van sitting at the side of a road, and a group of otters are leaning against it. One's got a blunt in his muzzle, taking a hit of it before passing it to another.

"Things will work out," an otter says nonchalantly.

A girl between the two boys throws up her arms and asks, "How?"

That's my cue.

"Howdy!" I call out, walking towards them while brushing the dirt off my back and fur.

All three jump, but I don't change my gate. They're staring at me curiously, the tallest otter shifting left and right down the road. There's nothing for miles and miles. I can read his muzzle, and explain, "I just happened to land here."

They shuffle nervously, afraid of me, though all three are taller and bigger. The one holding the blunt cautiously reaches his paw forward, extending a roach for me to take. I've never done pot before, but it seems rude to refuse the offer.

I take it, inhaling little puffs before coughing my lungs out in front of the three. They laugh at that, and quickly introductions are made. Their names are Damian, Ross, and Tiara, and their van gave out between concerts. Smoke is still pouring out the top and I offer to take a look.

Careful with the hood, I pop it open and poke my head inside. I'm not an expert at cars, but I think I know the problem. Sensing the vehicle and seeing through its design, I can almost feel where the radiator is cracked. It's like an itch on my skin, and I mend it closed with my will until it is whole again.

The otters can't see what I'm doing, but I can feel the car heal itself. Then I draw from the air, filling the tank with water, and in an instant, the insides feel new again. I close the hood and smile at the group, a sense of relief washing over me. All is right.

I clap my paws together and say, "That should do it."

Tiara, ever the skeptic, laughs and says, "You didn't do anything."

I shrug, not needing her to understand. "Where we headed?" I ask casually.

Damian, the tallest otter, gets into the front seat and turns the ignition. The car comes back to life, and he lets out a gasp, "Well, shit." He stares at the panels, squinting as he notices the vans running better than it ever had before. Again, I shrug.

Ross, slapping a paw to my back, takes a hit and when he exhales, he says, "And the universe provides."

So I had.

I learn that I've landed in the middle of the 80's this time. We spend months on the road, traveling between venues and concerts and bars. Sometimes we're there to play a gig, and sometimes we're there to watch. All these bands I only knew from the radio were now playing live in front of me, testing their sounds.

Some are met with roaring crowds, screaming for more. Others are booed and mocked, the music not appreciated at the time. I recognize some of the ones that would later be hits, sleepers that just needed the right moment. It was still good to listen to them in their raw impact.

It is with Tiara that I learn how to braid flowers into a crown. She teaches me, her way of explaining she likes me. Despite that, it's Ross who is my first kiss amongst the three. He sneaks it in after shotgunning me with a breath of weed, our lips too close and our attraction too strong not to finish closing the gap.

We make out in our hotel room, one of the few times we ever get one. Tiara and Damian are out at the bar, but me and Ross had opted to stay in for the night. I'm glad, because I've wanted this for a while.

When he breaks from the kiss, he says, "I'm sorry. I guess I'm pretty high." He turns his head away bashfully, looking to get up off the bed. I don't let him, holding onto his paw and keeping him there. Then I steal his blunt from him, placing it on an ashtray and give him a kiss on his neck.

He shudders underneath me, my teeth sinking softly into his fur. I hear him drag his claws on the sheets, muttering moans. Our clothes come off until we're down to our underwear. He's a little unsure of himself, but I know well enough for the both of us.

"Let's start slow," I say, and he nods up and down.

There's a little pudge over his front that I trace a claw through, and he likes that. He's careful when he touches me back, not wanting to move too fast. His fingers run through the fur on my chest, and I moan to let him know it feels good.

His cock tents up his boxers, and I dare a touch. I put my index finger to the tip, stroking it up and down over the fabric. It twitches and a bead of pre drips through to sticky my paw pads. He lets out a soothing purr as I pull back the underwear until his cock slips through the slit.

While I'm playing with his cock, he's more invested in my nipples. He keeps making a circular motion around them, every few seconds giving one a gentle pinch before moving onto the next. Then he dips his muzzle down and starts nibbling on me between his teeth.

The sensations are so amazing and my cock feels restrained in my underwear. I pull my briefs down, letting my cock hang out, pre dribbling freely along my shaft. Ross looks down, sees my cock, and cautiously wraps his paw around it, squeezing me at my knot.

I huff, grabbing hold of his own stiff member to give him a squeeze as well. Side by side on the bed, we jerk each other off. Together, we pant, only silenced when we're nibbling and pecking each other between our strokes. As I'm getting close, I rest my nose into his neck, breathing in his scent sharply.

He's first to cum, spraying a line of jizz across his chest and belly. I don't last a second longer after, and I am showered in my own spunk as well. Together, we fall back onto the bed and nuzzle in our afterglow. We stay there for a while, and I cuddle up against his side.

"I've never done that with another guy before," he admits.

I silence him with another kiss, reassuring him with my love. He feels safe beside me, and Ross doesn't even flinch when the door to our hotel opens up. Damian and Tiara slip in, pausing for a second when they see us spent on the bed together.

Even though we're in our underwear, we're still covered in our cum and it's pretty obvious what we just did. Tiara's muzzle turns, but all she has to add is, "Boys."

Tiara's jealousy lasts maybe a week at most, before I catch her alone with a crown I braided just for her. Damian, ever the most relaxed of the three. goes with the flow, not denying the inevitable before we're all pulled into a foursome almost every night on the road. It seemed like they only needed me to bridge their sexual frustrations.

It's about a year down the line that I'm laying over Damian's chest, naked and panting in the back of their van. Tiara is sliding off of my spent cock, and she turns to curl against my belly. Ross is sleepy eyed in his afterglow, his cum still fresh on my breath.

I smile at all of them, my first true friends. That warm glow fills me again, and even though I'm strong enough now to extinguish it, I know it's my time. There's a vast universe out for me to explore, and this is just a fraction of what I can experience. It's left an itch under my fur, and though I'll miss them greatly, they'll be fine without me.

"I love you all, so much," I say, and I stress that last bit just so they understand it. There's a small hope that one of them might recognize what I'm saying and tell me to stay. If they'd ask, I know I'd never have the willpower to leave. All they do is chuckle, and pass me love yous as well. Carefully, I stroke them all in the back of the van, trying to hold onto the touch of their fur. It's important that I remember this and find a place in my heart to cherish it forever.

And then I'm gone.

For a while, I travel here and there. Sometimes earth, most times not. Sometimes with friends and lovers, and some eons I'm left in quiet solidarity to explore the stretches of the universe. It's only when I come back to Messier-87, do I remember something important.

I remember that awkward wave I gave it centuries ago, remember how this all started and see myself so young and new. I've got business to do and I need to get back to that party. But first, I've got to pick something up. Something that isn't mine.

Again, I give an awkward wave to the black hole, feeling our time was short, and again, it doesn't have to impress me. It's a freakin black hole. It couldn't give a shit.

Then I find myself far into the future. I see a gas giant orbited by a thousand railguns. Hiding in the planet's ring is a top secret station. A research facility where they're developing the pill I need to give to myself. There's a room where it's being held in and I can't just manifest into it. They've shielded it from me, or whatever threat they perceived I might have been, keeping me from stealing what they've worked so hard to achieve.

Sure I could spend a millenia researching it on my own, but that's not how it went down or how it will go down. Oh, don't think less of me for being a thief. They're Nazis. Space Nazis! Yeah, that's right, they come back and this thing they've created is to ensure their dominance over the universe. I can't let them have it.

I will myself into the station, standing outside a hallway alone. But I'm not alone. Time stretches in front of me, and I see the few infinite versions of me standing in front of the door. I am seeing every future of me making the decision that'll change all of time.

I watch as each version turns back to greet the one behind. Three ahead, the marble fox goes for a wave. Two, the next one gives its me a sly smile. The one directly in front of me turns back, and I recognize that mother fucker anywhere. He gives me a wink, and there's no hard feelings between us. I turn back, seeing a couple infinite marble foxes standing in a row. With confidence, I give mine a thumbs up. In turn, that one shows me up by giving his me a double thumbs up.

He's the fun one, I can tell.

Then I look forward and see that all the me's have turned their heads to the right. I follow suit, glancing into a passage of time beside me. It is there, I see a road that has never been taken, but exists all the same. It's a reality where I don't get my paws on that pill. An existence so dark and bleak, both in past, present, and future, that it proves one thing certain: I always stop them. Every time.

The me's collapse into one and I push forward on the double doors leading into a hallway in the research station. There are lizards of all sorts, each dawning white lab coats and visors. They're scrambling, the time of their ascension dawning, and none of them look up from their tablets and notes to notice a fox wearing a tank top just waltzing in.

I am fast and small, walking behind and between the men and women. At some points, I pause, waiting for a group to pass and others, I hurry quickly. My timing is perfect, because it has to be. It's almost crazy to think, with all the railguns and high tech sensors and the room I cannot penetrate, not a one thought to lock the front door.

Ahead of me, there's a metal corridor sealing with lights flashing above. There's a tall komodo dragon walking with a couple armed guards at either of his side. He's moving with a sense of authority, chest out, shoulders straight, and his head tilting back so no one could be at eye level with him. Even amongst his own kind, he thinks himself above everyone else.

I get close behind the dictator, the guards stopping just at the door and taking either side of it. They turn and face away from the door, but their movements are so formal that neither even notices me walking just underneath their line of sight.

I stop in the room, pulling my tail forward just as the metal door behind me is sealed shut. The komodo dragon walks to a table in the center of the room, and I see the pill, shimmering in red, orange, blue, yellow, and green, along with every color in-between.

He steps around the table, getting into a position that I think he imagines to be more dignified or something. Just before he gets to his moment of triumph, he notices me across from him. He stares for a minute, blinking a couple times as if I might be something caught in his eye.

The tyrant looks around, like as if I were a prank his subjects were playing on him, and at any second they'd come bursting in saying surprise! No one is coming out, and so he asks in his final question, "Vhat iz dis?"

I raise my paw, feeling energy coursing through me before I release it out directly into his chest. In a flash, the komodo dragon is nothing but a spray of blood and ash against the wall he was formerly standing in front of. I'm a little stunned-- no, a lot, because I wasn't expecting that to happen at all.

In my head, I pictured him crashing into the wall and falling unconscious. Then I'd take the pill and he would wake up, shaking a fist in anger as I foil his plans for galaxy domination. Nope, he is very very dead, and I probably should have tested my powers before this point.

Oh well. If anything, that was a freebie.

I snatch the pill off the table, clutching it in my paw and squeezing it tightly. Unlike the fascists, I know this is too valuable to leave somewhere it can be stolen. Instead, I place it deep into a fold between time and space, ever to be locked away until I need it once more.

My work here done, I look out towards earth, willing myself to sail back home. With a thud, I smack muzzle first into a wall in the room instead. I'd forgotten that this is the one place I can't travel through. That was embarrassing. Even as a demigod, I can't help but look like a massive dork.

With a sigh, I walk back to the sealed door and give it a knock in succession to a tune I remember. It takes a second before the metal room opens up and the two guards greet me in shock. I take a step out of the room right between the two men. They both raise their guns at the same time, ready to empty their clips inside of me, but I'm already gone, and they only end up eliminating each other and any proof of my existence.

Invisible, atop of a railgun is where I place myself after. I sit there, watching their society from afar. They conclude that their experiment was a failure and never attempt to recreate it again. For as strong of a society they were, all that talk of master species and unity falls apart with their charismatic dictator gone.

Quickly, even before they finish cleaning off the bloody wall of their once great leader, factions are being made. Arguments of what to do next and how to conquer the galaxy falls to infighting. They splinter and a great civil war happens. The railguns once meant for me, are now turning on one another.

I picked a good one, it lasting most of the war. The reactor inside hums, vibrating the railgun underneath me. Radiation leaking from the core turns the whole thing blue, and just before it can get too hot, the barrel erupts. A projectile launches from its tip, racing at unfathomable speeds to eviscerate ships, battle stations, and other railguns thousands of miles away.

The war lasts years, and I feel a little guilt that I caused this. I didn't want this violence, but I couldn't just let them go through with their plans. It felt like the only option at the time, but I wonder how I could have changed things. Before I can ponder it too hard, I see something coming out the corner of my eye.

It's a bullet from another railgun. I slow time, and even as seconds get stretched to months, it's almost moving too fast for me to follow along. Gradually, I rise from the barrel, stepping off into space just as the hull is pierced through and through. An azure glow spills from the reactor, leaking into space, and the whole gun lazily spirals into nothing.

Decades pass and the war is over. I stay close by, watching their society in fast motion. They rebuild, not just their crumbled buildings and their ruined stations, but they find their heart amongst the destruction. Their war has left them tired of fighting, tired of dictators, charismatic leaders, and talks of power and ruling the galaxy.

I watch a freighter come for the railgun, pulling it into pieces. What is salvaged of the core is sent millions of miles away to power a station's garden atrium for generations to come. The barrel is chopped to bits, and I follow a small section smelted into raw metal that is later repurposed.

At the end of its journey, I see a small komodo dragon hatchling, unwrapping a present and looking up at his parents in pure bliss. He'd never know that the casing surrounding his little easy bake oven was once a tool of awful destruction, and everyone was better for that. I leave, knowing there's nothing left for me to see here.

I've got a party to go to.

I think to just show up, but that feels a little rude. No, I need a proper invite. Then I remember the wolf the Wild Thing was standing next to, and I chase after his image through time and space. It's kinda hard to flip through a trillion muzzles in history, but I eventually land on him about six months before the party.

I catch him in his coffee uniform, during the middle of his break. He's sipping on a latte while flicking through his social media feed, and seeing him in the light, I realize how handsome he is. It intimidates me for a second. For all the lovers and all the adventures, he catches me a little off guard.

Wiggling my body until I'm feeling loosey goosey, I give my muzzle a slap and tell myself to get it together. With some bravery, I jump right into it, walking into the cafe and taking the seat across from his table to introduce myself. The wolf's name is Giovanni.

He's a college dropout, living in a tiny apartment in a shitty neighborhood on the outskirts of town. When he's not playing video games, he is writing poetry, but he's mostly playing video games. Don't look down on him because I love nothing more than spending time together. When we go out, he likes burgers and hates sushi, but he does it for me anyways.

Giovanni is saving himself for someone special, and I know it's me. I know because I look far into the future, when his fur is gray and his eyes are milky. No spoilers. Just a quick peek, right? Even though he can't see me so well, he recognizes me walking into the room and says, "I love you."

He doesn't say it because he knows what's about to happen next. It's just something he likes to do spontaneously, and he genuinely means it every time. It makes me feel good, that same warmth coursing through my body every time he tells it to me, and maybe that's why I'm just a little too distracted to notice. I don't see the clot building up inside his head until it's too late. I say I love you back, and before anything can be done, he's gone.

I am cold, scared, lost, and utterly alone.

"Are you crying?" Giovanni asks, and I shake myself from my vision.

I'm sitting cross-legged on his couch with a controller in my paw. I'm not alone. We're still just playing video games together in our youth. Giovanni's got a concerned look on his muzzle, pausing the screen for a second to check up on me. I wipe my eyes and nose with the fur on the back of my wrist.

"Yeah, sorry. Allergies, am I right?" I say, nodding assuredly.

He leans his head back, a sly smile on his muzzle as he stretches out a, "Surrrreee," unconvinced.

I shove him with my shoulder, and though he's almost a foot taller than me, he shoves me back! The big bad wolf. We're laughing, and resume playing the game. He'd give me so much shit if he knew I was crying about an ending. It was always about the journey. I should know that, better than anyone else.

He goes back to telling me about this cool party, and he wants me to be his plus one. Giovanni is so close to asking me out, but he's not quite there yet. I know this is just a way to spend more time with me, and I shield the rest of our future together from myself. When he finally asks me out, I want it to be a real surprise.

But if he's not gonna do it tonight then I'm gonna get it from somewhere and I know exactly from who. I tell him yes, but I need to stop off somewhere first. No homo, so we fist bump before I walk out the door and find the last thing I need for myself.

Sitting on a tree at the end of the cretaceous period, I string together a bundle of flamingo pink flowers. I watch the sunrise, taking in the vast greenery of lands untouched. There's a brachiosaurus taking a bite of the leaves next to me, and I reach out to scratch its long neck.

It likes the attention well enough, even if it doesn't know what to make of me. This time and place feels good, and I realize that the Wild Thing was right all along: I am having a lot of fun making this crown. At this point, even after all this time, I finally relax and accept that he was always me and I was always him.

Looking up, I see an asteroid approaching. It's coming and I fold my ears back in sorrow. There's a thought that I can stop this. If there is any time I can play god, it is now. But I know it's not my place to do anything, and I know that party isn't gonna happen if I make any big changes. I'm not god. I am the Wild Thing.

The asteroid slams into the planet, the blinding light of a hundred million megaton explosion sets the world ablaze. I give a final pat to the brachiosaurus, the creature running for its life away from the destruction. As the ground tremors up towards me, I take a bow, and I'm back in front of Giovanni's place.

He answers the door and compliments my flower crown. Just for fun, I tell him it's not half as beautiful as he is. The wolf's muzzle turns red, but he pushes past it and holds up his phone. The rideshare is coming, ready to take me the last mile towards destiny.

When the front door opens, it's the hare that invited me to the party. He greets Giovanni with a side hug and then the wolf turns to introduce me as his plus one. The lapine looks at me with some confusion, recognizing me, but I'm just the loner he accidentally invited to the party. Thankfully, he doesn't put too much thought into it, and welcomes me inside.

I spend most of the party with Giovanni being introduced to his friends. They're all chill, and it's not too hard to have a good time with them. But it's a little difficult to also not be so excited, and I've got to focus on the conversations, hoping to make a good impression on his friends.

But it happens.

Standing across the room, holding for dear life onto a cup, I see me. It's hard to not break down into tears. There I am, a thousand years younger, and the second biggest dork in the universe. And my heart is filled with so much pride.

He's here. He showed up. I can see him more clearly than he could ever see himself, and I'm just so god damn proud of him. It's a Friday night, and though he could have spent the evening watching animes he's seen a billion times over, he's chosen to step out of his comfort zone for the first time.

He doesn't have a single friend here, but he came anyway with the hope to make some. The invite was out of pity, but he dressed nice and remembered to take the fucking pocket protector out of his shirt before showing up. This night could have been disastrous, and though he doesn't have my powers to see into the future, he went out anyway, like a real champ.

He's flawless.

In my opinion, that's the reason why he's so much cooler than me. It's what makes me feel this intense attraction to him, and I'm getting a little hot and bothered. The marble fox across the room is slender, young, and so nervous. He has nothing to fear, because anyone would be so lucky to be with someone as special as he is.

That's when he turns to me, and we make eye contact. I see his thoughts; see what he thinks of me, and I'm flattered. In his mind, I see me as true: I am the Wild Thing, and I want to be with him as much as he wants to be with me. Except this time, I think I'll be on bottom.