What Do They Say About New Lives?
A man trying to escape normal life accidentally crashes his car and falls into a pocket dimension. He meets a man there who he immediately forms a connection with.
"Where do all the lost things go? The missing sock that vanished from the laundry? The piece of paper on which you scribbled the Answer to the Question of the Meaning of Life? The Sargasso Sea surrounds the Bermuda Triangle..."_ _ - Charles Fort
I haven't really done anything with my life.
Don't get me wrong. I went to college. I've got a job, a car, an apartment. I've had plenty of girlfriends. I play videogames from time to time. I follow traffic laws. I don't steal. I usually don't lie.
But not much else. If anyone were to hear my name, it'd just be another bit of memory to seep away into the archives of lost knowledge. I'm not anyone.
Fuck that shit, man. I didn't grow up just to be my father. At 26, I feel like I could be 50.
I throw my cigarette onto the asphalt floor of the parking lot and grind it into the ground, watching as the last of its smoke dissipates in the air. I open my car door, step inside, and drive out of the shitty fast food parking lot.
The night around my 3-year-old Toyota is thick and heavy, the wisps of the dying city light dotting the sky behind me. I roll down the silent road, headlights illuminating the forested way before me. I blink the sleep out of my eyes, staying focused on the road.
I am finally free. I quit my job a week ago. Gave my landlord a notice of my absence and sold everything I could in my apartment. I bid my shitty family and shitty life behind. My fiance and I broke up half a year ago, so I don't have to worry about that. I'm my own man now. I have no idea where I'm going. I don't care. My life savings are in my bank account. I can use those. I won't be needing them to buy a house anymore. I don't want one.
My eyes grow heavy again, but I blink it away. I need to keep driving. Out of the city. Out of my old life. Not that I've done anything wrong, but... I'd best like to keep everything behind me.
The road stretches on, swirling and riding up and down hills as roads do. I grow more tired, the weariness of my mind beginning to affect my driving. Soon enough, I'm having a hard enough time being awake at all. It's got to be, what, 4 am? I've been driving since 6 pm.
I start to realize I'm never going to make it to my hotel at this rate. I begin to nod off, head lulling before eventually falling so I'm resting my chin on the driving wheel.
It only takes moments. Suddenly, there's a bump in the road and I burst awake, only to see a deer staring at me in the headlights of my car. It stands there, frozen, like a child caught sneaking a cookie from a cookie jar. Instinctively, in my sleep-deprived state, I swerve the wheel as fast as I can. The car throws itself off the road, flipping through the air and falling towards the trees. My heart jumps, and everything moves in slow motion. I close my eyes, preparing for the sickening crash of my car against the uncaring trunks of the forest.
But that never comes. I keep falling. Falling, falling, waiting for something that's not coming.
I open my eyes, and I see a ground sluggishly approaching me as I fall in slow motion. Grass, mixed with broken plates and a few books. Before I have a chance to process it, my car tumbles into the grass, and my eyes force themselves shut.
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The darkness swirls as I dream. I'm a boy again, fresh out of a reading of some children's fantasy book. My small hands circle about the air. "Azzgerab... azzakasham... bloidio!" I shout, throwing a paper onto the ground. Nothing happens, but I continue anyway, because my imagination doesn't care about reality.
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...
I'm a kid. I sit stroking the soft, smoky-gray head of the lounging stray cat in front of me. They watch me cautiously as I do it, eyes tracking my slow movements. Confident that I'm not trying to hurt it, it lays its head back down.
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...
I'm a teenager. I flip through the magazine, admiring the faces of the boys and wishing I could look like them. If I try hard enough, maybe. Then I could get all the girls I wanted.
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...
I awake to the sound of birdsong. I sit strapped into my car, turned onto my side. I groan as a headache ripples through my brain, my mouth dry. What the fuck was going on? I unlatch my seatbelt, hitting the car door hard as I fall on my side. I blink, looking around, seeing the same grass I saw last time on the floor, now also littered with the glass from my car window which I have luckily not fallen on. I grunt, rubbing my shoulder and rolling onto my stomach. I have to get out of this damn car.
I get up, dodging the remnants of my former window and stumbling out into the grass. I stretch, blink, and take a look around.
I'm dreaming.
I have to be.
A massive stack of books stands before me. I mean, massive. Stretching up into the sky, unorganized and tumbled. Anything from the dustiest of old, thick-spined leather tomes, to the youngest modern classic. Next to it is an even larger pile of broken bits of concrete and plaster: Large, thick, and industrial. I can see many more piles dotting the land around me like lonely hills: Phones and other electronics, socks, soda cans, soccer balls, car keys and credit cards--You name it, it's here. In my dream. What is going on? Actually, am I dead? Is this purgatory? I suddenly remember the crash, and my heart pounds. I look over to my car and see the window smashed, and the top a bit bent, but that's it. So... a dream, right? A coma? If I truly was dead, I imagine it'd be a bit more broken. Hell, I was certainly asleep earlier. No reason for me not to be now.
I rub my eyes, helplessly confused.
That's when I notice something. My fingers are a lot more callous than usual, like an animal's paw. I look down, and how it is, in fact, a hand, it's gray. Pure white fur trails down my wrist and arms.
Now even more confused, I notice that I can just barely see a short muzzle jutting out where my mouth should be, and looking down, my legs are covered in the same white fur.
This is one strange fucking dream. I'm out of here.
I try to pinch myself to wake up, but to no avail. I pinch harder. No difference. I (rather comically) try to step on my own foot, and just end up hurting myself. I grumble. People don't have control of themselves in comas, do they? I have to be asleep right now. I take a few steps backward to try to get a better angle look at where I am, but end up tripping over myself and hitting my head against the side of my car. I grimace and accidentally let out an instinctive, cat-like hiss. (Which, as you'd expect, surprises me.) I rub the back of my head. The pain dissipates, still leaving me in the... dream? I stand back up.
I'm still digesting my situation when I hear a noise. It's the soft pads of feet against the grass, no doubt another person. I look to the source. A few seconds later, a young man appears from around the concrete pile. He's half'-fox, no doubt, which is somehow less weird to me than I expected. His fur is orange, with a long white-tipped tail waving behind him. A muzzle protrudes out from his face, a black snout at the tip. He steps over pieces of scattered rubble around the concrete and plaster and walks toward me.
He waves. "Thought I might find someone here. Saw a car falling last night. They usually have people."
I blink, making sure I'm hearing him right, and ignore him entirely. "I don't remember you."
"We haven't met." He speaks with a faint accent. German, I think.
"You're in my coma, though." I've never dreamt of anyone other than people I know. I assume comas are the same.
He shakes his head. "You aren't in a coma." The fox comes to a stop a few feet away from me.
"Then where am I?" I ask, perturbed by the statement.
He spreads out his arms in a wide arc, as if to behold the land around us. "Welcome to the Super-Sargasso Sea, friend. It seems you've fallen in."
"What are you talking about?" I realize how dry my mouth is.
"I know, I know. It's hard to believe at first. But let me explain. You've probably pinched yourself or something, right? That's what I did. You felt the pain. Yada Yada, you try something else, still here, you think you're in a coma or something, but... comas aren't like this. I'm no expert, but if you do see things while you're in one, they aren't so... creative? Eventually, you come to the same conclusion as me, which you haven't yet, but I'm hoping you will. And that conclusion is being somewhere else. And alas, here we are."
I listen intently to the strange fox's story before responding. Admittedly, the implication is ridiculous, but... isn't he right? This is such a foreign situation to me. If this place it's real, it's nowhere in the more traditional aspects of earth. "If- if that's true, then why are we..." I look down at my white furred arm, "...different?"
The fox ponders it for a moment. "Well, I only have stories to go off of, and I must emphasize, only stories, but they say it's because the sea doesn't like humans to be here. So, when one shows up, it tries to turn one into something else: And, drawing from the quickest source, that ends up being the most important animal in someone's life. Not an exact copy, that'd be too awkward to configure, just the same type. But your body fights back, and by the time it's done, you're left as a sort of hybrid between the two. By then, you're not a human, so we're let go."
I drink in the new information with a heavy amount of skepticism, but drink it in all the same. "That's... hm. There are other people here?"
He nods. "Would you like to meet them? My name is Novak, by the way." He holds out his hand (paw?).
I shake it. "William. And yes, I would."
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...
"A procession of the damned.
By the damned, I mean the excluded.
We shall have a procession of data that Science has excluded." - Charles Fort
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...
By the time we reach our destination, the rolling hills of random items have given way to a single behemoth of a mountain. It's large, without jagged edges, only jutting out items of what Novak has explained to be objects that have also fallen in. The thing stretches up and up into the sky, probably 90 feet high. It's massive, looming, and brown with the chaotic mess of furniture that makes up most of it. We pass into a road that looks to have been cut out of the mountain. We dodge over a fallen grandfather clock, and I admire the absurdity of it all. Tables, chairs, curtains, blankets, pillows, stuffed animals, magazines, lamps, lampshades, jackets, broken paintings, broken cups, broken TVs, the occasional stray book or poster; All lost here. All now a part of the mountain.
Novak breaks my chain of thought. "You thirsty?"
I nod. "Very."
"I assumed so. I can get you some once we arrive. Most of it comes from water bottles. The sea is too salty to drink."
The thought of water tantalizes me, and I feel my throat get a little sore. "Isn't this all supposed to be a sea?"
Novak shrugs. "Again, I only have stories, but stories say that it used to be. This was apparently originally all just pure water, way back when the seas were first formed. Then, as everything settled down, the first rocks, then dirt, then plants came. Once humans were around, our stuff started to get dropped in here, replaced everything else, and the rest is history."
"There sure are a lot of stories down here." My tail swishes absentmindedly behind me.
"There's not that much to do. Read, work. You can watch a movie if you're lucky, but electricity is extremely weird here and we have a limited amount of DVDs. It really depends on which part of the settlement you're in."
I look at his muzzle. "How are we even speaking English to each other, anyway? It doesn't look like you should be able to." Probably not me either, for that matter.
Novak gives a toothy grin. "Who said we were speaking English?"
"What do you mean?"
He taps the side of his muzzle. "We're speaking something else. Some animal language, I guess. I imagine it has something to do with our new bodies."
It dawns on me.
The obvious truth dawns on me.
If this place, the Super-Sargasso Sea, is real, and Novak is real, I'm going to be like this forever.
The half-fox notices the look on my face. "What's wrong?"
"What about my old body? Not that I was particularly attached to it, but... I'm going to be like this forever?"
He nods. "Just how it is. Your new self looks good, though. You haven't lost anything."
"Thanks..." I reach a paw up to my face and run it through the fur, dragging it along the outline of my short muzzle. I flinch as I hit a whisker, sharp sensations riveting down through my body.
Novak chuckles. "Welcome to being a cat."
"I'm figuring that out just about now..." Or more so, confirming what I already know. Oh well. Surely I'll wake up, right?
I'm starting to realize that might not happen.
Well, this isn't so bad. It feels good, somehow. Further detaching myself from the rest of my life.
Novak lets me look around in wonder as we reach the rise of the mountain. The items here are squashed and broken, no doubt having been here for a long time. We reach an artificial overhang, constructed out of wood and varying pieces of metal. It leads into a roughly cut, door-shaped hole into some sort of old metal room inside the mountain. Novak leads me inside, ducking. I realize how tall he is. He whirls around and throws his orange-furred arms into the air. "Welcome to the USS Cyclops, hub of... just about everything we do here."
I head in after him into the depths of the mountain. "The what?"
"Used to be a navy ship before it got buried. Apparently it disappeared in the 1910s and showed up here. Sadly, the crew didn't come with it. No clue what it was carrying, either."
This is all a little too much to be real. But it's not hazy. I'm in my right mind. Right?
Maybe, as inexplicable and ridiculous as it is, I really am in a new dimension or world of some sort. "So you live in a ghost ship?"
"No, but I live pretty damn close to it. Here, let me show you around."
He leads me through another door into a large, dimly lit room. The spacious area is lit by the occasional lamp casting out warm orange light. People sit around wooden tables playing cards or taking sips from plastic water bottles. Most wear a backpack or have a suitcase beside them. The largest portion of them is varying species of dogs and cats, but there's the occasional bird or reptile. Novak is the only fox in sight. On the opposite side of the room, a bar stand has been put up, with what looks to be canned food and more drink bottles behind it.
Half the walls look to have been constructed here, while the other two are clearly the steel hull of the ship.
Novak points around it. "The cantina. A lot of stuff is free here unless you want excess. We could try to make people pay, but currencies are too varied down here to be worth anything, and there just isn't a point to making people barter for food. So we decided to make it a community thing."
I look back at the bar, a golden retriever wearing a faded suit leaning over on the table. "Looks gourmet."
Novak chuckles. "Not many choices. This is about all we get. We support ourselves off it, though. We have a good bit of supplies stacked up in the storage room."
This is all so surreal. I need to ask more questions. "How many people live in this place?"
"176, currently. You'd make the 177th. Most people showed up here just about the way you did. A few of us are children, who take after the animals of their parents, but most people don't want to procreate here. I guess we're just not that kind of people."
That's a lot less people than I expected. "You sure as hell know a lot." I also notice the amount of curious and sharp eyes beating down on me from the cantina's patrons, the occasional whisper ticking my ear. "Why am I suddenly the center of attention?"
Novak winks. "I'm the mayor." He also notices the stares in my direction. "Oh. That." He looks me up and down, his expression twisting into one of surprise. "I'm, uh, only just now realizing. Hold on, we should probably get out of here before too many people notice."
"What's going on?"
He leads me out of the ship. "I'll explain once we get to my house. Don't worry, it's not apocalyptic or anything. It has to do with another story."
I follow the fox as we leave the belly of the mountain.
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"Witchcraft always has a hard time, until it becomes established and changes its name." - Charles Fort
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...
Novak shepherds me towards a large hill beside the mountain. This one is made of dirt, pebbles, and gravel, and at the top, a small house has been built. It's the mayor's house, Novak explains, built with windows and all. He unlocks the door and lets us inside. The smell of pine wood immediately hits my nose. The inside is pretty quaint. To the right, a table is set up with a few chairs. Canned food sits on a counter next to it. Forwards, a coach is laid out in the center of the room, facing a dusty TV. Opposite is a door which I presume leads to Novak's living quarters.
We eat a meal of canned tomatoes and water, which at this point, I was dying for. Afterwards, Novak goes into his room to retrieve something, then returns back to the table.
"So," the fox says, "People have been waiting for someone with your fur." He places a card down on the table. It depicts a skeleton wearing a ragged cloak, scythe in hand. Above it, the Roman numeral 'XIII' is written. "There's a story about a strange old woman who fell into this place many years ago. She had a vision about a white cat, decided it was a vision from the future, and drew a tarot card to try to figure out what they meant. What card does she draw?" He taps the one in front of him. "Death."
I've never been much of a spiritualist, but this seems to directly involve me. A coincidence? Probably. But after everything else I have seen today, it's not the craziest thing. "So what, I'm going to die?"
The fox shakes his head. "No. Well, probably not. It could mean that you die, someone else dies, but it might also mean change, or the end of an era. No one knows. That's why it's so popular."
At least he's honest. "Do you believe it?"
"To be honest? I can't say. Things are different down here. Electricity works mostly on its own, things glide down from the sky, everyone is half-animal... it's not that big of a leap to assume fortunes can be told, too."
I sigh, pondering my situation. "Novak, are you real? Is this place real?"
He nods. "Yes, I'm real. Everything is real. Have I convinced you?"
I nod my head yes. "What have I gotten myself into?" I mumble, forgetting about the prophecy.
The conversation shifts pretty quickly after that. Novak scoots into a chair next to me. A little while later, he asks a question: "May I ask what you were before you were lost here?"
I find myself studying his face and icy blue eyes. "I'm an IT guy. Worked a mediocre job. Yesterday, I guess, was my first day getting away from it all. Travel the country. If I wasn't gonna be someone, I decided I was gonna do something worthwhile. That's when I fell in. I don't know how, there wasn't a portal or anything like that, it was just..." I flinch upon remembering the crash, "...one moment I was on the road, the next I wasn't."
Novak nods thoughtfully. "That sounds like most of the tales I hear. It's never some big thing, you just... show up."
"I guess if it was more dramatic, I would've heard rumors of some strange portal by now." Thinking about it, I actually do faintly remember conspiracy theories about missing items.
"Indeed," Novak says.
"What's your tale?" I ask curiously.
The fox readjusts his position in the chair, smoothing down his blue button-up shirt. "I was back in Germany, still in university. I had just broken up with my boyfriend, which was a big deal for me. It, simply put, distracted me while I was walking. I tripped and fell into the river. Or, more specifically, I fell through it, and ended up here. Woke up, was confused, and eventually found my way to the settlement. That's about it, really. It actually took me awhile longer to realize all of this was probably real."
"Interesting."
I'm pretty sure I did a poor job hiding my surprise at the 'boyfriend' line, because he adds to his statement. "Yes, I'm gay."
"Sorry, sorry. You just... didn't seem the type," I respond.
"Don't stereotype," Novak says sternly, "Anyone could be gay. Even you."
"Apologies. And I'm straight," I respond.
"Could be bisexual. Never too late to find out." He winks.
I roll my eyes, ignoring the fact the words resonate a bit more than they should with my past doubts. "Whatever. Again, sorry. This has been one hell of a day."
He changes the subject. "No hard feelings. You know, you seem wound up pretty tight. You could relax a little. There isn't much pressure around here."
I shrug. "I was trying to before I dropped into this place."
He pats my shoulder. "Want to watch a movie?"
"I thought you said that was hard."
He smiles. "I'm the mayor."
We do, in fact, watch a movie. Apocalypse Now. It's pretty good, if a little long, and carries us well into the night. He said the TV might sputter out a few times because of the weird, wireless electricity in this place, but it worked without any problems.
Novak only has one bedroom with two beds, so we slept in the same room; Not that I mind. He didn't snore.
He is an eccentric fellow, but I've taken a liking to him. So far, anyway. He's polite and minds his manners, but is much more casual and isn't nearly as insufferable as a prim and proper snob.
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"My liveliest interest is not so much in things, but in the relations of things." - Charles Fort
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...
The night passes and I wake up, still certainly in Novak's house, still certainly in the middle of the Super-Sargasso Sea. (Which is also, in fact, still not a sea.) As the parallel-sun rises, we get up and have a small breakfast of canned tomatoes (which I am much less enthusiastic about this time), and start the day. Upon the insistence of the other lost folk, Novak sets up a meeting about, well, my existence. I spend my time before then avoiding curious and sometimes cautious stares cast in my direction and pondering my situation. Ultimately, I believe I have been thrown into a, as stupid as it sounds, pocket dimension, and then thrown into the middle of my only allies contention.
176, currently. You'd make the 177th. Novak had said that.
I really am becoming something, aren't I?
Noon arrives, and Novak calls everyone into the cantina. He heads into a rickety stage composed of crates in the corner and pulls me on next to him, waiting as a good 125 people gather around us.
My tail thrashes anxiously behind me. I have no idea what's going to happen. "Where are the others?" I whisper.
The fox pats my shoulder, noticing my nervousness. "Most just didn't want to come, but a few are out scavenging, aka looking for supplies."
So they scavenge. That's about what I figured. "I see."
"Shh. Looks like just about everyone I know is coming is here." he whispers back. The fox straightens his posture, his practical suit making my sweatshirt and pants look underdressed. I shovel my paws into my pockets, looking out at all the eyes on the two of us. I realize once again the strangeness of it all. We're all different, half-animal, which again, should probably surprise me more than it does. But alas, it's only one of the weird things here.
My thoughts are interrupted as Novak begins his speech.
The whole thing, quite honestly, drags on. Most of it is spent as a group theory crafting session with very little input from me. Someone suggested they just get rid of me in case I did something bad myself, which to my relief, Novak quickly shut down.
It continues on like that until they let me go. Actually, I talked to a few of them afterwards. Joseph, an old golden retriever storage organizer/bartender, Isabelle, another cat, who is an artist, and Zephyr, an off-duty scavenger.
By that point, though, I just wanted to take some time to think about things. I explore the buried ship-turned-home. There's a few bedrooms, a dusty kitchen, a room with a TV, and a large library from which I select a few books from. With nothing much to do, I decide to stay there. No one's shown interest in putting me to work.
A few hours of mostly uninterrupted reading later, I hear footsteps approaching me. "Hey, sorry for the wait. Got into a bit of a mess with a few of the others," Novak says. "How are you?"
I close my book and put it back in my pile. "Good. What happened?"
He sighs. "You. It was after the meeting. They were questioning your intentions, then my intentions, Yada Yada. I guess 'death' is a pretty intimidating word. Then, I had my usual duties and could only go and find you just now. Did anyone give you any trouble?"
I shake my head, worried about the implications of resistance against my existence. "No, I'm fine. Are you alright? It sounds like a headache."
He waves his hand dismissively. "I'm as good as I'll ever be. It's you who people are putting pressure on. I hope it's not stressing you out."
"It is," I admit. I realize I'm retracting and un-retracting my claws over and over instinctively.
Novak pats my shoulder, which I'm realizing he has a habit of doing. "It'll all turn out fine. I promise I'll try my best to keep that statement true. We'll just have to wait and see if something happens."
I'm still pretty anxious. "I guess."
"Look. Why don't we go on a walk? You needn't worry about this now," The fox suggests.
"Alright. Can I please stay at your house again? I don't want to spend any more time down here than I have to."
"Of course, stay as long as you like. There's not many options in the housing market anyway. I can help you carry your books up later, if you want."
"Thanks. Really. And yes please." I get up from my chair and push it back in.
Novak smiles. "Come on, then. We can grab them later."
Outside the ship, the early evening air is silent and chilly. I'm suddenly grateful for my fur. Novak walks beside me, leading us onto a wide path which looks to go circle the mountain. "So, what was your animal?" If that's not too sensitive to ask, especially considering recent events," The fox asks.
"Hm? Oh. You're fine. It was my family cat. We originally found the old bastard out on the street. He was cute, and smart. I considered him my best friend for a little while as a kid."
Novak chuckles. "That's sweet. All the cats I've ever interacted with have been bastards, but I don't archetype."
"You calling me a bastard?" I say playfully.
"Nah. You're pretty nice, actually."
"Thanks. You are significantly less loud than most foxes I know."
He winks. "I try not to take up too much after my own kind."
"What's your animal, anyway?" I ask.
"Easy tale, that one. There was a den near my backyard as a teenager. I watched the babies grow up there. It was an experience that has always stuck with me."
The conversation continues into the night as I grow a further appreciation for him. His voice is pleasant to listen to, with a sharp but calm aspect to it as well as that faint accent. He's knowledgeable, too, and I've realized how handsome he is. Is it weird to call a hybrid handsome? Novak said people have had children down here, so it's not a new concept, and he didn't seem to have a problem with it. Besides, it's not romantic; I just appreciate the little things.
We grab my chosen books and head back to the house. Instead of watching a movie like last time, we just go to sleep.
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_"I conceive of nothing, in religion, science, or philosophy, that is more than the proper thing to wear, for a while." _- Charles Fort
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...
The event happened three weeks later.
Zephyr, the crow scavenger, had found an intact laptop and brought it into the cantina. Usually, when people holler at me around here I just pretend not to hear them, but I had talked to Zephyr a few times by now so I decided to go see what he wanted. Having heard me talk about my IT background, he asked if I could try to get it to work. He said there's no internet in the Super-Sargasso Sea, but they sometimes find interesting stuff on computers. I obliged, and an hour or so of tinkering later I managed to miraculously get it to work again. Whatever old man who owned it before hadn't password protected it, so I logged right in.
Scrolling around the mostly empty computer, I noticed something.
A full 5 bars in the Wi-Fi signal on the corner of the screen. Confused, I tested it by looking up something random on Google.
It worked.
It fucking worked.
It wasn't immediately as big of a deal to me as it was to the others, but the sea had an internet connection now. After further experimentation, we could clearly connect to the world above, too.
Zephyr let me have the laptop, and I instantly became the techno-wizard of the settlement.
The only question now was how to go about convincing the outside world of our existence. The others quickly gathered around the handful of phones we had on hand and desperately began phoning loved ones or friends, who as far as I could tell, couldn't understand a lick of what we were saying. I'm pretty sure they switched to texting. Meanwhile, I'm trying to figure out how to explain where all the missing people are talking from. And I'd only been here for half a month. Novak definitely helped. I was and am still staying with him.
Now, in the sun-set basked evening, I hovered over the send button on the post, leaning over the MacBook laptop. The ever-persistent fox sits beside me, reviewing our selected post. It had been a few days since the internet connection was discovered, and this was the statement we wanted to send out. It covered the basis of our situation in the most analytical way possible and promised a live tour via phone camera the evening after. It was a big step.
Novak looks at me. "Are you ready?"
"I'm ready."
"Let's do it." He pats my shoulder, which was a comfortable feeling by now.
I hit the button. The loading bar circles, disappears, and the post appears on our user page.
I take a breath. "The game has started."
The fox smiles. "Indeed it has."
Novak treats us to some Oreos he'd bartered for from a scavenger, which were surprisingly not stale. We sit down on the couch as we prepare to go to bed for the night.
It's moments like these with him that I appreciate. Quiet talk, learning more about each other. I really liked the fox. I did.
I've started to notice his presence brings up confusing words in the back of my mind. It's never too late to find out. Pretty ignorable, at first, but it's been getting bigger.
Novak looks at me sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "Hey William? I have an embarrassing question."
He likes to call me by my name. "Go on?"
"Can I pet you?" He asks with a small smile.
My mind still half-engulfed in thoughts of convincing the world of the existence of a pocket dimension tomorrow, the question catches me off guard. "You want to... pet me?"
"It's been on my mind for a while now! I had to ask it eventually. I know we're both in our 20s, but... just once?"
I chuckle at the childlike question. "What's in it for me?"
"I can kick you out of the house at any time, you know. Just saying. I feel like that wins a lot of arguments."
I scowl playfully. "Fine. You win this time. But don't get too touchy."
"Dutifully noted." He angles himself to face me, brings up one of his paws, and awkwardly moves it toward the top of my head.
I close my eyes as he gives my forehead a few short strokes. His soft paw pads run through my fur, causing little electric sensations wherever they go.
Upon my lack of negative output, the fox becomes more confident in his task, strokes growing longer and a little less soft. "See? This isn't so bad," he says. He curves them around my ears, the electric sensations reaching further down my head. It's a very nice feeling. Is this what normal cats feel? Not this, exactly, I'm sure of it. But it is invariable that I'm enjoying it.
Before I can realize what I'm doing, I lean into the sensation of his paw. He laughs. "I think that means not bad at all."
I don't give into his teasing and let him continue to pet me. He becomes a little more comfortable, reaching down to stroke the side of my head and my cheek. He pets it tentatively, making sure his presence there is safe. Then, he goes down a bit further and scratches my chin, leaving little tendrils of that good feeling behind with each scratch. I begin to purr, which I didn't know I could do.
We continue on, and the balance of power clearly switches to his favor. My eyes still closed, he gives my head a few more strong pets, and then my cheek. A good 15 seconds later, he casually moves down to my shoulder and gently squeezing it. He reaches over to my back and rubs it, swirling his paw sensually up and down its shape. He moves his arm back up to my head and pets me a few more times before putting his paw back on his lap.
I lean back against the couch as the last of the feelings escape me. We share silence as the moment dissipates.
"Too much?" Novak asks.
Not at all. "No," I answer, "No. I liked it."
"All of it?" The fox asks in a hopeful tone.
I can't lie. I mean, it was just a paw, right? "Yeah."
He nods thoughtfully before getting up and stretching. "And here you were all scared of it. You're like a little housecat," he teases.
I playfully punch his shoulder. "Shut up, canid."
He chuckles. "Alright, alright. Goodnight. We've got a big day tomorrow."
"Yeah," I say, standing up. "Goodnight."
He pauses for a moment, looking me up and down. He looks serene and happy. Without explanation, he steps forward and pulls me into a hug. His arms wrap around my body and find a nice place on my back. I stumble a little before leaning into him for support, then leaning into him because it feels good. I slide my own arms over his lithely muscled body. He hooks his head over my shoulder. "Goodnight," the fox parrots. He squeezes me.
We embrace like that for a few seconds before he pulls away and stalks off to his bed.
What was that all about? It's the first time he's hugged me. It was so sensual, too...
And for a moment there, I thought he was going to kiss me.
And I wanted him to.
I think back to when I was a teenager. I had doubts about my sexuality in some of those years. I thought I got over them as nonsense, but here we are.
I think I'm putting the pieces together.
This can wait until tomorrow.
I walk into the bedroom and quietly slip into my own bed, taking off my shirt and laying it on the floor.
I'm surprised to hear Novak say something. "William?"
"Yeah?"
"You're a cool guy."
I smile. "Thank you, but I'd say I'm outmatched by others in this household."
"Nonsense. You'll learn in time," He responds.
I pull my blanket up over myself, feeling a little cold. "We'll see about that."
Nothing left to say, we conclude our talk and settle into the nightly silence of rest.
I listen to him breathe. It's too far away for most normal people to be able to hear it, but my feline ears can. It's a good noise. A calming one.
I listen to it for a while.
...
...
_"Everywhere is the tabooed, or the disregarded." _ - Charles Fort
...
...
We wake up and go about our daily duties. Me, doing nothing but menial tasks and sometimes helping Novak, and Novak, organizing the settlement and dealing with various disputes. Actually, as a new third party, I've become more useful as a sort of judge in the unofficial court justice system around here. People aren't on me nearly as much for the whole prophecy thing anymore. In fact, with the new Wi-Fi connection and everyone connecting themselves to computers again, I have actually resumed my job as an IT guy. (Except way more respected.)
I've also been monitoring the online buzz around the Super-Sargasso Sea. Most of it is calling us an impressive fake, or a high-budget ARG. Nobody has been able to prove the pictures false, though.
The day passes by. I help a few people, play a game of cards, eat a few canned pickles, mostly distracted by the looming showcase of the sea and the USS Cyclops. I also notice that throughout my interactions with Novak today, he's been a lot more touchy-feely. I return it in kind. I know he can tell I like it.
Finally, evening comes around. Me and Novak meet up and head to his house. We go to the living room and I fiddle with my phone as the given time approaches.
I log into our social media account and select the 'livestream' option. I nod to Novak, and click it. I wait a few seconds. "Is it on?"
The fox, sitting with the laptop on his lap, refreshes the page. The livestream appears. "We're live."
"Here we go." I watch as the viewer count climbs from tens, to hundreds, to thousands, to tens of thousands. My tail curls and uncurls. "They shouldn't be able to understand us, right?"
The fox nods. "The chat is saying we're just talking gibberish. Not quite sure how all of this works, though. I've been gone awhile."
"I see." I mute the chat so that only we can talk in it. "Can you explain to people what we're doing? In chat."
"Alright." A few moments later, I see messages start popping up in chat from our account explaining where we're starting, and where we're going.
I turn the chat back on and the live stream continues from there. We show around the house, then head out the front door and showcase the kaleidoscopic piles and spires of the items in the sea. The sunset once more washes over us as we walk past the grandfather clock hill to the mat of tarps, the shipment container, then over to the mountain of just about everything. We head through the road leading up to the USS Cyclops, then the inside of the ship, and the people inside. Some of them try to say things before they're reminded that only us half-animals can understand each other. (Unless we type, in which anyone who understands what language we're writing can read: Whether it be German, Indian, or whatever else. Luckily for me, Novak also knows English.)
Most of the messages in chat that began like "This looks really good" have changed to "Holy shit, is this real?"
We continue on.
After a good 15 minutes of touring, we double back to the house and end things on the balcony, which looks over the uninterrupted dunes of items for miles. Novak explains in chat that we'll do a Q&A tomorrow. After a little while longer, I hit the 'End Livestream' button, and take a breath of relief. It actually went well. People seem to be considering the possibility of our existence now.
Novak closes the laptop and puts it inside, then returns to the balcony. He comes up behind me and rubs my shoulder, yawning. "Aye, I think that went well. I wonder if anyone will believe it."
The wind blows through my fur, causing me to shiver. It's surprisingly cold down here. "I hope so." The dimming sun shines down on the two of us, basking our fur in that golden-orange light. I look out across the chaotic landscape.
"Cold?" Novak comes a step closer and presses his body against mine. His warm, tall frame lines up against me. The fox slides his head and muzzle over mine, and I remember that he is, quite literally, a head taller than me.
Two arms wrap themselves over my body, coming to sit on my chest. His lithely muscled body mine.
This is new. Very new. But I like it.
I thought about myself a lot last night. This stacks on top of it.
I collapse a paw over his. I hope he can't feel my heart pounding. "Not anymore."
The fox smiles. "Good."
He holds me like that for a little as we watch the sunset. The light trails through our fur, our shadows combining into one behind us.
He lets go a minute later. "C'mon, let's watch a movie." I feel a pang of loss as the cold settles back in around me.
Oh well. Movies weren't so bad, and the unique situation of the sea only made me appreciate them more. We've been watching them off and on for the least three weeks. "Sounds good to me."
We close the balcony door and pick out a new movie from the mayoral archive, this time being The Mushroom Teeth.
We sit down on the coach, put it in the DVD player, and begin to watch it. It's pretty good, though I am often distracted by the occasional strokes on my head by Novak.
The night grows darker, moonlight seeping in through cracks in the shudders. My focus shifts from the movie to the fox sitting on front of me. The glow from the TV screen illuminates his face, eyes glimmering in the light. Orange fur coats most of his body, but the fur on the underside of his muzzle is white and seems to down to his chest and probably lower.
Novak. A strange name, one that calls attention to him. Anyone could have my name, but his was unique. I feel like that really shows the difference between the two of us.
The movie ends, and we watch the credits roll as we discuss the ending. As the conversation fades out, a question comes to mind.
I look at the fox. "Novak?"
"Yeah?"
"Why did you hug me last night?" It's a stupid question. But it carries layers.
He studies me. I study him. Seconds pass. Unexpectedly, he smiles. It's cheesy to say, but I like his smile. He does it a lot, and there's a certain canter to it that pacifies you.
Before I can enquire further, the fox leans toward me.
The first kiss is short. It leaves a faint hint of warmth on my lips, his longer, thinner muzzle meeting mine for only a moment.
When he pulls away, I sit there, a little dazzled. Novak winks. "That's why."
With a slight animalistic edge to my actions, my body urges me to take it further. Should I? Maybe. Maybe not. But I'm so close, so near to him, which causes that little urge in me to grow stronger. I lean forward and kiss him, short and fast. It seems he's feeling something similar, because he returns it in kind, pressing my muzzle against his.
Each kiss grows a little longer. Novak places a paw on the back of my head, and a few kisses later, there's a tongue in my mouth. It's a welcome experience. This whole experience is a little new. I'm not quite sure if I'm ready for it, with my more particular feelings only just recently being realized, but I'm here now. It isn't like I've never made out before, but... with someone like Novak? No.
I might be enjoying this more.
The kisses grow hotter and heavier, his breath mixing with mine. I reach out and grab onto his shoulder. Our saliva thoroughly mixes, intertwining us in some weird way.
We both grow out of breath to the point we have to stop, and we realize how far we went. We stare at each other for a few moments. I notice my shaft pressing against the fabric of my pants, aching. It's extremely difficult to get relief out here, and with an experience like that... it's getting to me.
Novak smiles once more. By the look on his face and my own experience, I can tell he's also certainly far too hard for his own good. He pats my shoulder. "I've got to, uh, go take care of something." He quickly and awkwardly hustles out of the living room and exits through the front door.
I consider my options. Either I sit here with my crotch in pain, or I relieve it in some way. I could do it here, but it feels a little wrong, and I have nowhere to... y'know. I could let it sit in the air and relax itself, but if Novak comes back before then...
I elect my fourth, unspoken choice, and get up off the couch. I quickly make my way out the door and follow Novak.
The night air hits me as I step onto the grass of the hill. The mountain looms in the distance, a light being able to be seen by the entrance. I don't go that way. Instead, I track Novak around to the other side of the house. I know the moment I reach the fox I'm going to be past the point of no return. The confirmation of my thoughts, if they weren't confirmed already. And I keep going.
I find him leaning against the back wall, facing the empty, lifeless piles and stacks of the sea. The moon illuminates his body parts. As the grass falters beneath my feet and he's fully in sight, I can see exactly what he's doing. His jeans are pulled part of the way down his legs, underwear included. In his hand, right between his legs, is the pink shaft of his cock. His paw moves quickly up and down the long length, his speed faltering some when he watches me approach. We don't exchange words as I come to lean against the wall next to him, positioning myself on the left. The pain of my pent-up crotch is raging at this point. I undo the zipper of my jeans and let them fall to the floor. I pull my underwear down as well, letting it sit on my thighs. My own length unfurls itself, relieved to be free of its prison.
Novak watches me from the side of his eye. I look at him, then look down. I take a deep breath, and let my more carnal desires win. I place my paw on the paw manipulating his shaft. He stops it, and I move it off to the side.
Then, I grip his cock.
The hot length twitches underneath my paw. I move my paw up and down it, a hunger growing in the pit of my stomach for more of this new feeling. Of touching something so sacred. I paw him off, assisting Novak in completing the least holy of sins.
He looks out a quiet sigh of contentment. Both his paws now free, he makes the most of it. I watch as he slithers an arm towards me. Soon enough, a palm cups my balls. I breathe in a sharp breath. He fondles them a little before slipping his paw up to my shaft and rubbing it. The foreign thing feels good on my length, especially so when he begins to jerk me off.
That's how I found myself out behind the back of a house, in the early night, giving and receiving a handjob. The moonlight shines down upon us, illuminating our bodies.
I close my eyes as Novak continues to do his work, sensations rippling through my body from our shared actions. It's like little fireworks. The warm pink skin of Novak's shaft is perfectly inviting, and I find myself greatly enjoying the again.
Soon enough, some time into the handjob, I feel Novak shudder between my fingers. White squirts of his semen shoot out onto the grass and disappear into the soil.
Upon witnessing the experience, and under the pressure of Novak's own paw, my body gears up and does the same. The electric feeling comes to a dramatic end as I climax, spewing out my own seed onto the earth. The satisfaction washes over me.
I steady myself against the wall of the house, relaxed. Novak lets my cock go and pats the inside of my thigh. I let him pull up my underwear and jeans for me before fixing his own.
We enjoy the fading satisfaction of the moment. I catch glimpses of his icy blue eyes studying me. I pretend not to notice and stare out at the wallets, empty chip bags, doors, trashcans, flags, and broken lightbulbs of the sea's dunes.
So, I just jacked a guy off. Did I like it? Yes. Did I want more? Yes. Why Novak? Beats me. I'm glad he's the one who helped me realize things, though.
The fox steps forward to plant a kiss on my cheek, his hot breath seeping into the fur. "Well, that certainly settles things. I feel pretty good after that. I'm gonna go to bed."
I look up at the moonlit fox. "I think I'll follow you."
As always, he wastes no time. "Forwards, then." Novak promptly walks his way around the the walls to the other side of the house and opens the door. He holds it open inside.
I step out of the night's darkness into the comfortable wooden interior of the house. It's a little less cold in here, but winter is setting in, and the word in the settlement is that how electricity has mostly stabilized in the last week (As well as the discovery of Wi-Fi), heaters haven't.
I pad over the floorboards to the bedroom door, still following Novak. He goes inside and walks over to his bed. I watch from the doorway as the fox unbuttons his shirt and slides it off, revealing the curves of his orange-furred back. He folds it up and places it on the nightstand before climbing into bed and pulling the white covers over himself.
He looks up at me with a coy smile. He doesn't need to say anything.
I turn away, ears growing a little hot, but agree to the idea. I lift off my sweatshirt and throw it on the bed, my t-shirt swiftly following. I turn back to the fox and climb into bed next to him. I face away from the fox, turned on my side.
Soon enough, I feel his arm wrap over me. He shifts his body in closer and presses against mine. His head slides in over me again, and he tugs my body to fit snugly against his. The fur of his bare chest presses against my back, our body heat exchanging in a symbiotic relationship.
Novak's fingers explore the white fur of my flat stomach. "You're cute."
I wrap my tail around his leg. "Why are you the one who gets to say that?"
He chuckles. "Because I'm the big spoon."
My ears grow hot again. "I didn't ask you to."
He moves his paw up to my side and gives it a few pats. "But you're letting me without protest."
The hierarchy of this relationship is becoming clearly apparent. "I'm not cute, though. That's a term for..."
"For what? Women?" He sighs disapprovingly. "It's not just for women, William. You can be cute too."
I'm not quite sure how to respond to that. "Sorry."
He rubs his paw up and down my side. "Have more respect for the gayer side of you."
Everything settles down. I slowly drift off into sleep, still being spooned by Novak. It's an enjoyable position.
...
...
_"Do you want power over something? Be more nearly real than it." _- Charles Fort
...
...
The next day passes by in a breeze. I wake up with Novak and have breakfast, then review the reactions to our recent online tour of the settlement.
"CGI EXPERT REACTS: SUPER-SARGASSO SEA LIVESTREAM"
"Top Film Studio Creative Director Claims Super-Sargasso Sea Footage to be Real"
"Analysis: Is There Really a Super-Sargasso Sea?"
"Missing Persons List of Suspected Super-Sargasso Survivors"
"Conspiracy Theorists Share a Collective 'I Told You So'"
"Super-Sargasso Sea: Complex Hoax, or an Alternate Earth?"
"Family Members of 'Super-Sargasso Survivors' In Tears"
"Increased Public Interest in the Super-Sargasso Sea After Recent Livestream Release"
"What Are They Saying In The Super-Sargasso Livestream? Analysis"
"Either The World's Greatest ARG, or Something Straight Out of D&D: The Super-Sargasso Sea"
"Who Are The Two Survivors In the Super-Sargasso Livestream?"
"Where Are the Super-Sargasso Survivors Getting Their Energy From?"
A lot of the same few words, an insistence on calling us survivors, and a lot of 'probably'. Meanwhile, Novak has to take care of the settlement, so I spend most of my day alone answering hordes of questions. A lot of them I can't answer, like the energy one, or how old the sea is. People also seem to have taken an interest in me & Novak, and some people hold great interest in our appearance. I my best to explain who we are.
"My name is William Johnson, and I am the white-furred cat. I am a 26-year-old from Lowell, Massachusetts. I fell into the Super-Sargasso Sea just a few days under a month ago when I crashed my car.
The fox is the current mayor of the USS Cyclops."
I send the message.
My reluctance to reveal information seems to only make people more curious, and I eventually have to stop responding to personal questions entirely when it gets too personal and people start asking things like our relationship statuses (Which I definitely want to get a consensus on soon) and who are families are. Ultimately, it seems like for every question I answer, there's two more, and another I don't have a response to. It is, quite frankly, exhausting. I'm greatly relieved for the excuse to stop when Novak walks through the door.
I lounge on the black leather of the couch, and look up perhaps a little too excitedly as the door opens. "Hey there," I say, sitting up.
Novak waves as he approaches me. "Hey, how's it going in here?"
I close the laptop and put it on the unused side of the couch before getting up to stretch. "Digital torture. You?"
He grins. "Mental torture. The hysteria in the settlement has ramped up significantly ever since the livestream went out." He pulls me into a hug. "Good to see you."
I put a paw on his back. "Good to see you. What's going on out there?"
We talk until evening comes once more, discussing the settlement and the public reaction to the reveal of our existence. We eat, and we decide to watch another movie. This time, we pick randomly from the shelf with eyes closed. The selected story ends up being Freedom Hangs Like Heaven. (Which is apparently also a song title.) Novak laughed a little and said that he heard it was a book before, but the movie was terrible. It had already been chosen, though, and so we slotted it into the DVD player and sat down.
The movie was, in fact, not very good, and my thoughts drifted away from it and to Novak within the first 15 minutes. He seemed to notice my extra glances in his direction, because I soon found myself being pet pretty often. He runs his fingers over the the top of my head, stopping to scratch behind my ears or under my chin every so often. I let the electric sensation take me over and close my eyes, attention to the movie completely dropped. The next time I open them, I realized I've been coaxed under Novak's arm. I don't mind. I lay my head on his shoulder and relax.
My standing with Novak is still surreal to me. I fail to see what part of me caught his eye, but here I am cuddling with him. There's also the fact that he's a man, which solidly places me as bisexual. There was a time in my youth that I explored the idea, but I abandoned it pretty quick. It wasn't like my family was the most accommodating. It turns out teenager me almost figured it out, though, so good for him.
By the near end of the movie, my head is in Novak's lap. He's taken to exploring my body with his fingers. He rubs my side, moving down to my sweatshirt and up under the cloth. He runs his fingers over my chest, moving it down over my middle body. He stays there for a little while, messing with the white fur.
As time and the movie moves on, however, his paw moves towards my waist and begins to run fingers along the top of my pants. Observing my lack of objection to this event, he moves his fingers down into the areas within. He runs his fingers along the fur of my thighs, then drags them up along my underwear. He comes to the top of them and slips his hand underneath. After making sure I'm not stopping him, he slowly moves his paw down further into the insides of my underwear. He reaches the top of my crotch, then goes still further, further down. It's pretty clear what his destination is. Soon enough, I shiver as a paw presses itself against my balls. He comes up under them, resting them in his palm. My already half-hardened shaft grows faster as he fondles my cock, playing with the ins and outs of my private parts.
This continues on for a bit. My shaft hardens more and more, and I shift and wriggle at the experience.
By the time the credits begin rolling, the situation is getting pretty serious.
Novak stops playing with me, but keeps his paw there, covering as much of the area with it as possible. "Well, that was a movie," he sarcastically remarks. "Really could've done better things with our time."
I don't think I watched more than half of it. "Y-Yeah."
He looks down at me teasingly. "Hm? Something wrong?"
I swat at him. "You know what's wrong."
He chuckles, using the remote to send the TV to the home page of the system. New light is cast over us. "There's something I want to do with you."
"What is it?"
He grins smugly. "Find out." He pulls his arm out of my pants. 'Could you stand up, please?"
I can tell that wherever this is going, it's someplace unholy. I oblige his request and stand up. He stands up as well. "Let me help you out here," he says. Novak pulls down my pants, dropping them to the floor, followed by my underwear so that my lower half is almost completely nude. He places his paws on my shoulders, guiding me to stand over the armrest of the couch. I waddle over there. He pushes down my back and forces me to bend over on the armrest, pushing my sweatshirt up to reveal most of my white-furred back.
I hear him rummage through his pocket and pull something out. Then, the sound of him unzipping his pants and pushing them and his underwear down. He clears his throat. "So uh, I didn't know how to bring this up on conversation. I just decided to go for it, and if you veto it, you veto it."
I connect the dots between the position he's put me in and what he's saying, and realize what his plan is.
The sound of him opening a bottle lid reaches my ears. "I uh, bartered with one of the scavengers for a special bottle he'd found. I think you know what it is." A moment passes as I assume he does something with it. He tenderly places a paw on my waist. "I hope you're ready."
He brushes my tail to the side. Moments later, two fingers find their way past the spread of my cheeks onto the rim of my asshole. They press inside the virgin space and rub around the edges, spreading lube there. Once done, he pushes them in a bit further, wiggling them around. My ass stretches a little to take them in. "Tight." He says.
"Shut up." I mumble.
The position I'm in, bent over on the armrest of a couch, is not the most romantic, but I can tell by the tender paw on my waist and Novak's careful movements that this isn't something casual. This is meaningful.
He finishes his teasing and pulls his fingers out of the space. With that hint of what's to come, the last worries of is this truly my sexuality? disappear from my mind.
It takes a few moments. I listen to Novak finish up the end of his preparations. Then, he steps in a bit closer, and I feel the tip of his cock press against my asshole's room. He holds it there for a second, before, soon enough, pressing it inside of me. The long, lubricated shaft reaches into me. He slowly moves it up and down my ass, stimulating me in a way I've never experienced before. It's not that it's my first time having sex. Far from it. But it's my first time being the one getting fucked, and this is my first taste.
Novak rubs my waist. "Everything alright on the receiving end?"
I nod nervously. "Yeah."
"We're set, then. I hope you enjoy this."
Novak moves a little faster, getting a little more aggressive. Slowly but surely, his thrusts pick up in speed. I hold onto the couch as my insides are used in such a new way. At first, it's painful, but as I get more accustomed to it, that fades away. His cock stimulates me in a way I didn't know existed before. I let out a small moan. I fully rest myself against the armrest, his paws now holding onto my waist. The floorboards creak a little beneath us. His thrusts continue to get faster and ever so slightly deeper, and the pleasure inside me builds up more and more. I moan again, this time more pronounced, as he grows to a moderate speed. Novak lets out his own sound of pleasure and shoves his cock a little deeper. I grip the couch a little tighter. The wonderful, strange feeling of this experience bubbles within me. Novak seems to enjoy it just as much as he picks up just a little more.
This continues on for awhile. Novak stops holding himself back and moves at a fairly high speed, his thighs slapping against the fur of my ass. The pleasure overwhelms me and I moan louder as Novak fucks me.
Finally, the hot, long thing in me that fills out the sides of my ass pushes in one last time. Novak grunts with satisfaction and bucks against me a little. A hot substance shoots out into the depths of myself. I moan again, totally and utterly pleased with the situation. Sure enough, I also reach my climax, all the goodness within me spilling over the edge in the shape of white, gooey liquid spewing out of me onto the side of the coach.
Novak pulls out of me, and lets go of my waist. That was... man. "Christ almighty..." I can't help but say. I turn around to face Novak, who looks exhausted. And completely naked.
He smiles. "That was fucking good."
"Yeah..." I admit.
"I'm glad, because I don't want that to be the last time," he returns.
I look down at myself, realizing I still have my sweatshirt pulled way up on my back. "Me neither."
"A most exciting response," Novak says. I smile.
The fox yawns. "I can arrange you a private visit to the bath in the morning, if you like. They can't say no. I'm the mayor."
"That'd be really nice."
Novak nods. "Your wish is my command. Anyway, you can head off to bed. I'll fix some of this mess."
"You sure? I helped make it." And your legs are probably burning, I'm tempted to add.
Novak chuckles. "It's fine. Just give me a second."
I don't argue further and head into the bedroom. I look at my bed, then to Novak's, and it's an easy choice. Seeing I had already left half my clothes in the other room, and the current status quo, I strip off my sweatshirt and pad across the oak floor to Novak's bed. The blanket washes over my naked body, gently pressing against my naked fur. It felt nice.
Two or three minutes later, the fox appears in the doorway and steps inside, turning off the dim lamp in the corner. Plunged into darkness, I hear him come towards me. He climbs into bed. After getting situated, he presses his naked body against mine. I lean back against him, the warmth of his body comforting me. The fox caresses me, gently moving his paws along my body. "William," he says softly, "I know our time here has been limited, but we've been spending many, many of these days with each other, sometimes exclusively. I know the traditional system for this involves dates and all that, but we just engaged and completed an influential sexual activity. I know you far better by now than many of our settlers. Look, I know, or at least hope, we've both been wondering about this. William Johnson, will you be my boyfriend?
That is fittingly dramatic for Novak.
I don't need to think about my answer for long. "Yes."
We fade into sleep after that. I have everything I want. I'm no longer nobody. I have an arm around my waist.
What do they say about new lives? Because I think I like this one.
...
...
"There's a day of jubilee
And their name is
Marked at the bottom of your sky-bound stairs:
Sun-struck, wind blowing
And nothing yet grays the clouds
Instead, soft and lofty, the silk touch
And you're lifted up, up and away, along the stairs
And at the top, you do not find a person
A box, good things
And it's marked:
"Pandora, I know you've had it rough."
"And the callous which surrounds you weathers you like a ship."
"But please, to make up for the last one, I found your prayers."
And a name is signed
And in it, gold
And good things
And a smile that helped you along the way
_And you look out, and realize where you are" _- Jubilee, Crownless King (Author Unknown)