Chapter 2 - Brat and Breakfast

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#2 of Simon King #3: A Lonely Dragon

Simon meets a local San Franciscan boy and learns a thing or two about the city.

Art is by FruitzJam

Story is by both of us


Chapter 2 - Brat and Breakfast

San Francisco is a lot of things, especially cold and wet in the early mornings. The fog that rolls in across the city reminded me of the fog you'd see when on a ship moored in the harbor, but the chill from the Pacific was so unexpected -- I had to actually fish out my warm coat from my luggage and bundle up. The annoying thing about the city was that, if it felt like it, the sun would break through by mid-day and clear the sky so it was bright and even warm sometimes, so you didn't always need a jacket -- but if the wind was blowing the right way it would still be so cold so could have one day requiring a jacket and the other to roll your sleeves up. Still, it kept things interesting.

I stepped outside of the Arc and blew into my hands, rubbing them together to keep the tips of my fingers warm. I smiled a little bit as I remembered being really cold a lifetime ago. This was balmy by comparison. I was going soft.

I was just about to start heading down the road when something small and fuzzy barreled into me. I grunted dramatically and reached down, holding the object away from myself. I looked down and saw a grinning wolf pup staring up at me.

"Morning, Mr. King!"

"Good morning, Lucas," I said with a wry smile and grabbed his wrist and gently yanked it up. The sleeve of his tattered jacket slid down and I saw he had stuffed my wallet up it. I reached in and took it, slipping it back into my coat.

Lucas grinned up at me with that playful, charming little smile that probably got him out of trouble more than he would ever admit. I let his arm go and shook my head. "You're getting better, but you still have a lot of room to grow, kid."

He already began yammering about how he was really good at pickpocketing when I held my other hand up. Dangling from it was a rope. His rope. The rope belt the boy used to keep his trousers up. Lucas's eyes widened and he grabbed the rope and quickly fixed his loose trousers, blushing and folding his ears back.

"You almost showed the world the goods!" he complained.

"Since when did you have modesty?"

Lucas was grinning ear to ear. "Who says it's modesty? You don't give the goods away for free, my friend."

I couldn't help but smile back. It felt like something I would say myself back when I was his age. Hell, I would have probably said something like that six months ago when my body was for sale.

I didn't like the idea that Lucas was trying to find work doing the same thing. Not only was it an awful situation to be in but he was putting his life at risk. He didn't know how easy it was to get rid of a poor boy whore, or make him disappear forever. That was why Siro didn't let him work at the Arc. But at the same time, if he was still willing to turn tricks, he was going to find people who wouldn't be such gentle types. Siro knew it was bad, but he couldn't offer a place to work for kids, not like that. He refused to put children at risk and I don't blame him.

"Always the businessman, eh?" I said and began to walk down the street and put my hands in my pockets. He stopped a few paces ahead and looked back at Lucas. "Come on, breakfast on me, but you answer more of my questions about the city."

The wolf's face beamed and he mock-saluted. "Yes sir, Mr. King!"

"Call me Simon." I wrinkled my nose at the use of my last name. "I'm not that much older than you are."

I had only been here a few days and already I was starting to establish haunts. For breakfast, if I didn't want to eat at the Arc, I liked to come to this café which had wonderful coffee and baked goods. It also had seating inside and let me warm up. It was run by an immigrant family, the Worzels, a family of badgers from somewhere in Eastern Europe. The husband only spoke in broken English but the wife knew a lot more. Their children, Hans and Petra, spoke it fluently, but that was the remarkable thing about kids -- they learned quick. Bensley had always been surprised at my speed with French.

I sat next to the window in the corner with my hands curled around a mug of coffee and a plate in front of me. On it were some warm bread and a bowl of soup. In front of Lucas was also a large cup of coffee, three loaves of bread, a bowl of soup, and some cheese with three apples. I always made sure to buy him extra. He took it home to his family.

I suppose you're wondering where I'm getting my money, aren't you? Not working for Mr. Palmer anymore, and I'm not turning tricks either, so what's a fox to do for money?

Truth be told, I had some saved up in a box from my time in New York. I didn't really spend money all that often, and surprisingly, being a whore is good money when you work at a place like the Arc-en-Ciel. All of that was some extra cash that I just squirreled away, and so I had a handsome little pile of money hidden in my bag. It wasn't a fortune by any means, but I could probably buy myself a little home here and still have some left over.

But who wants to settle down anyway?

I watched Lucas eat like the hungry boy that he was, and for a moment I had a flash of memory. I was back in Allister's, I was so much younger, smaller, thinner, and always hungry. Alister fed us well for urchins, but we still always had empty bellies, especially at our ages and all the work we did. But then we didn't really know much else at the time. I just smiled as I pictured Lucas sitting with Avery, Billy, and myself. He would have been a wonderful friend back then.

"What you grinning fer?" said the wolf boy who somehow managed to get out through a mouthful of bread with a swallow that looked painful. I winced.

"Just thinking about the past. You remind me of some of my old friends," I said without the hint of guilt in my voice. Sadness, sure, but no longer did I feel like I was the cause of their death. Avery had given me a gift and helped me let go of that burden. I loved him and missed him very much.

"Oh yeah?" I could barely understand the words over a mouthful of food stuffed in Lucas's mouth. "Did they also work in a whorehouse?"

There were the clinks and clatters of dishes and utensils falling. I glared at the wolf who grinned from ear to pointy ear. He knew exactly what he did. I picked up my newspaper. Folding it over, I leaned forward and smacked him on the head with it -- firmly, but not hard.

"No, you smart mouthed whelp," I said.

"Ow... so you were just a classic homely whore then?"

"They'll never find your body if I throw you into the bay."

"I can swim."

"Lucas!" I said with a growl, but I couldn't really get angry at him. He had his mischievous face and we both ended up laughing.

"If you must know, I was a sailor before I came to New York City, and before that I was a chimney sweep in London."

"Oh!" Lucas perked up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I remember that, you spoke with an accent."

I cleared my throat. "Aye, ya heard well. I hafta focus on it ta brin' it out, but if ye put me in a good ol' En'lish pub, I'll be back ta speakin' migh'y normal in no time." I paused and returned to my current accent. "I just stopped because I wanted to be seen as an American."

Lucas nodded. "Sounds like me. Papi says I shouldn't speak Spanish when I'm here, he says I need to get real good at English. Didn't think I'd meet royalty though."

"Ah... what?"

"You speak all royal like with that accent! You must be someone famous."

I frowned. "Lucas...that's how most Englishmen speak. And I don't even speak it right at all. I'm from Whitechapel, you know. The poor part of London."

"So you cleaned chimneys? With, like, a long fluffy pole or something?"

I shook my head. "In London the people wanted chimney sweep boys to do the job." I looked out the window and pointed at the building across from us with the chimney stack at the top. "See there? I would fit inside there, only I'd start from the bottom and crawl my way up."

Lucas stared at the chimney. I could see him putting all the pieces together in his mind. "That looks real small."

"I was really that small," I added, sipping some of my coffee. "We all were. Start 'em young. You grow out of it, though...or you die."

I could feel the tension in the air and decided to change the subject.

"But that was a lifetime ago. I'm way too big for that now, and there are laws here to protect children from that job, so I'm obsolete."

We enjoyed our meal in quiet for a bit. We both felt a little awkward. My past was not a friendly, warm place, and this was one of the few times I had actually openly talked about it. I needed to think of a better way to share what I went through without making people feel sorry for me. Poor Lucas, he probably felt bad now for teasing me.

"So what are you going to do today?" I asked him while I chewed on my roll. "Going to help your folks at the shop?"

"No," Lucas shook his head. "Don't need me today. I think I'm going to go to Saint Andrews after this."

"You mentioned that place before. Is it a church? You're going by yourself?"

"Oh, I go there with my parents, but during the day I can go and get tutoring for free, and it's nice and warm in there. And there's this really nice helper who makes this wonderful fruit juice he just shares with anyone who gets a lesson from him."

"Sounds like an upstanding guy. The church must be popular."

"Yuh-huh!" The affirmative was punctuated by a rapid nod. "He's really smart and he helps out a lot. You should come by sometime and meet him. His name is Tristan!"

"I'll make some time to go on by, but today I have to go actually try to find a job. I'm getting bored doing nothing all day."

"But you live in a wh--"

"Finish that sentence, I dare you."

"Fiiiiine," Lucas said as he rolled his eyes dramatically. "So what are you going to do for work?"

I thought for a moment. "I'm used to working on a ship, so I'm going to see if they need help in the harbor. I'm also really good up in high places."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't get dizzy, and I'm quick and nimble. I grew up climbing buildings and then walking on them in the rain and ice and snow. On the _Paramour_I worked in the rigging a lot, too. Cap'n said I was one of the best he'd ever seen." I couldn't hide the pride in my voice. I wasn't a fighter or a scholar, but I had my own gifts. Besides my godly ass, that is.

"Well that sounds boring and you don't need help getting there, so I'm gonna run off, okay Simon?" The wolf was already putting the extra food in his bag. I couldn't help but notice he also nabbed my remaining roll. The brat.

"That's fine," I said with a shrug. "Just be careful. And if you come by the Arc, don't try to just walk in like you own the place. You almost got your ass thrown out again if Tin hadn't seen you."

"I'll do my best! Adios!" The boy slipped in a bit of Spanish -- not because his English was poor but because he knew I liked it. There was something so exotic about the Mexican people here. I wanted to learn so much, and Lucas was more than willing to answer my questions.

I sat back in my chair and pulled out the newspaper that I bought before coming into the cafe. I liked to see what was going on around the city, and to see if anything was posted about Mordecai or something equally strange. I had Rut in the back of my mind telling me to keep up with current events, lest I get surprised.

Just because I saw the benefit of reading the news didn't make it any less dull. So many things were going on in the country that just... felt small compared to stopping Mordecai. I did keep my eye open for any news out of New York City, but so far nothing.

A few pages later, I finally found an article about Mordecai today buried in the middle of the paper where I almost always skipped. The only reason I stopped was because I saw his name in big, bold letters over an article.


English Philanthropist Gives to San Francisco!

Our fair city has a new benefactor these days in the name of Mordecai Crossbell from London, England. On Monday Mr. Crossbell announced that he was donating hundreds of thousands of dollars to help his new home city, starting first with the potentially hot button issue of Chinatown. In recent years it has been the hotbed for disease and crime, but over the last few years the population has started to dwindle, thanks in Part to the Chinese Exclusion Act.

Mr. Crossbell, when asked why he was spending money in such a controversial area of the city, had this to say: "Chinatown has a poor reputation and the only way to ever change that is to help it thrive. That is why I am spending a considerable amount of money on cleanup in the area and will be expanding to other districts of the city very, very shortly."

Besides spending money in Chinatown, Mr. Crossbell, who can trace his lineage back to royalty, has said he is also giving an infusion of money to the Church of St. Andrews. When asked about the money, the pastor said..."

---

I stopped reading and looked up, deep in thought.

The church? Chinatown? What was that man up to?

I got up quickly and hurried back to the Arc. I had to get some more feedback before I went digging further.

"Tin!" I said loudly as I came into our room. It was very cozy, with a nice-sized bed and a view of the city below. It was better than my old tenement back in New York City, and of course it came with a tiger...

The big cat was sprawled out on the bed, sheets tangled around his body. He was naked as the day he was born, the sheet wrapped around his hip so low that I could tell he was having his usual morning 'problem'. I jumped onto the bed and straddled him, not to tease him but because I had some information to share.

The big cat groaned and woke up with a surprise, blinking his eyes up at me as I grinned down at him. I was still fully dressed, and so that probably confused the hell out of him.

"Simon?"

"Mordecai is in the newspapers! We finally have a clue!"

Tin blinked his eyes tiredly and put a hand over them. "That's great... But can it wait a few more hours? We were up so late last night..."

"I've been up for hours!"

The tiger groaned. "You also can, somehow, operate on three hours of sleep and a cup of coffee. Us mere mortals require a bit more to get us through our day."

I smiled down at Tin and pushed down with my rump. I could feel his erection throb under the sheet. I made sure to grind ever so lightly. It had the desired effect -- I watched the large tiger moan softly, putting his large hands on my hips.

"You're dangerous when left to your own devices," he purred, eyes still closed as he was still waking up.

"I know how to motivate you is all." My hands were on his chest, rubbing slowly through his soft fur. Siro had given Tin some special oils, and it had softened up what had once been very coarse fur.

"And just what do you want to motivate me to do?" One hazel eye opened and looked up at me, a lazy grin forming on his muzzle.

"I want you to wake up and listen to the news I found. I think that would be a great place to start."

"Mnfff," the tiger groaned and his hands circled my waist lazily. "Why do you want to be so busy in the morning? Sleep in. This is a brothel; being up before noon is a sin against nature. I also was up late helping Miro tend the bar."

The big tiger had been working at the Arc. He was great for several reasons: he was handsome, strong, large, and knew how to tend bars. Siro had offered me a job here but I felt like I had done enough time in a brothel. I also noticed that Tin always glared at any man who flirted with me. Better not cause any trouble if I can help it.

"When was the last time you even saw a sunrise?" I asked, still rubbing his chest. I was now hard but didn't push it against the tiger -- not yet anyway.

"I think I was five or six...?" I felt the hands rub along my back and blinked when those deft fingers not only undid the back straps to my suspenders, but also the button tie that secured my tail. In moments Tin had my pants pulled down and I had barely felt him move.

"Hey, wait--" I felt the big cat push up and roll, the sheet being yanked off between us. I felt something long and hard against my naked rear end. It was wet! How much pre had been leaking?

"We had sex before bed, and you're already leaking--"

"You blame me? A beautiful fox crawls into my bed, on top of me and my morning wood, and expects me not to leak like a sinking ship?"

"That's not it, I mean that--"

"Shhh," Tin said as one of his hands slipped down and held his erection firmly. The other held my hip and pushed me backwards. My eyes widened as I felt something warm and wet slip under my tail. "Wait, Tin... We aren't using--"

"I'll be gentle," was the response that came out in a purr. He pushed me back and down so gently but enough that I felt his wet head slip into me. I groaned, arching my back a little bit as he sank into me and settled myself right into his lap. All this while I was still dressed! I leaned my head forward, panting heavily.

"Mmmm," Tin said with an even louder purr. "This is how I like to start my mornings." The tiger moved to hold my waist and slowly began to buck his hips, lifting me up a little bit to help the process along.

I won't lie -- it hurt a little, but not for as long as you'd imagine. Tin was honest when he said he would go slow and gentle. He was also leaking like a sieve, and a few minutes of this slow, gentle roll gave him enough pre to be slippery and make it only feel good.

By now I was working with my tiger, rolling my hips back and lifting myself up a bit, just moving with the gentle roll of his body, my hand coming up and gripping the headboard in our room. This was one of the few times we had been slow and gentle. I'm not going to brag here but the two of us were rather... ahem... eager when it came to how we shared a bed. This time, it was soft and gentle, intimate and private. I couldn't even remember the last time I was more focused on the sensation and going slow like this. Tin also kept me from going too fast, always holding me steady. He had also, very kindly, undone my pants and shirt, but nothing else. Right now I didn't want to even think about changing a thing.

I would say we went at it like this for hours, but it was probably much shorter. Still, I could have spent a day in this intimate moment with Tin, but our bodies were reaching that perfect peak. I could see the man's muscles flex and clench, his hips working upwards and pushing against my thighs. He still had his eyes half lidded and his grip on my waist firm but gentle.

"Simon..." he whispered, and then it happened. I watched, and felt, his whole body clench up as his hips lifted off the bed and pushed into me harder, firmer, deeper... and then the wetness and heat spread throughout my body. I groaned as the heat warmed me from the bottom up and I felt that wonderful familiar feeling of being full. I didn't even cum. I didn't want to; I wanted to enjoy this moment exactly as it was.

I watched Tin's body go from clenched to slack. He purred, fully satiated, lolling his head to the side and grinning from ear to ear. He had enjoyed himself. He held me there as he softened and then rolled me gently to lie down next to him. The cat worked at pulling on my clothes.

"Tin," I started, "I have to--"

"No," he said firmly, opening an eye. "Lie down with me. Please." He pulled my shirt off and used his hands (and then his foot) to hook into my trousers and kick them off me. I was naked.

I smiled and nuzzled into his neck, breathing in his scent. "Fine." Like I had to be convinced. He pulled the blanket over us and had an arm curled around me, holding me close.

I smiled as I soon napped next to him. Life, at least for the moment, was going great. Even if I went to bed sticky.