Unanswered Questions

Story by Gruffy on SoFurry

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#11 of Hockey Hunk Season 2

Rory's workday is full of surprises.


Hello y'all!

Welcome to the whopping 39th overall chapter of the Hockey Hunk saga! *chuckle* Can't believe we're still up and running and kicking hard!

If you have any comments about the series or this chapter, don't hesitate to drop me a line or two. Also remember that votes, faves and watches help others to find these stories to enjoy as well.

Have a fun read!

Cheers!

*

Ewwwwwwwww!

Tuesday mornings are just about as fun as Monday mornings, not to mention, Wednesday mornings, or any kind of mornings, really, whenever my golden butt had to be hauled out of the bed before at least eleven am in the morning. Considering that it was still a time of the day that began with the number seven, my co-workers at the Albrecht Brothers seemed all too cheerful and chipper for my comfort and made me look like a lazy ass.

That's two sentences in a row where I've been talking about the gluteus maximus, I wonder if I have some sort of a thing about derrieres...hmmm.

Asses aside, Marge and Crystal didn't mind the excruciating morning moment as they made their quick way along the shelves of the bookstore, checking that everything was in good order. It was my job to check the till and make sure that we had enough of spare change there, as well as that we knew just how much money we had in shop at the beginning of the day. The flap flap flap of dollar bills against my pads was a fun sound, of course, although I knew that I would have to wash my paws before opening time, since they already reeked of metal after checking the coin box.

Whatever the state of my mental faculties was due to chronic caffeine shortage or overload, alternatively, if judging by the amount of coffee I had guzzled down before leaving for work, my mood was gently hopeful and exited even. Even my tail was daring a little bit of a flick and snap action behind my...back...as I stood there by the cash register and did my thing. My mind, however, was wandering along the lines spurned by last night's mysterious text from Victor...or the few of them, one of them which was the fascinating...

If you want to

do something

about that

I was wondering

if you were

free this

Thursday?

_ _

Now, since Victor had pretty much offered to have some muzzle-to-butt sex with me, at least if my dirty imagination combined with his earlier raunchy messages could be believed, I could more than certainly understand that he wanted to hook up with me again next Thursday for that exact purpose. I had sent him a message, tapped carefully with my cum-stained pads, telling the Dobie that of course I would be free on Thursday, and asked him about what he might have in mind. The answer, however, was:

Gr8!

I'll get

back to u

soon

can hear Cobb

finishing

shower : (

_ _

Frowny faces aside, not to mention the HEY VICTOR, YOU MAY WANNA BE CAREFUL OUT THERE IN THE SHOWER IF YOU GO NEXT IT'S A BIT OF A MESS NOW THAT I'M DONE WITH IT HAHAHAHAHA! mental images conjured by the idea of Cobb Holden walking in on a boner-happy Victor, I was now more than a little curious about what Victor had in mind. Was it going to be a date, or just a quick encounter for some hot lion on Dobie action, at some place where a certain brother doggie could certainly not interrupt our fun? Maybe he just wanted to go somewhere quiet to just talk and hang out, since that too was quite the impossible thing to do with the hyperactive Cobb hovering around and probably wanting to get in on the fun. That of course would eliminate any chances of real, proper, good, quiet Rory-Victor or Victor-Rory time, and give even less promise to perhaps act on the mysterious sexual chemistry that did seem to exist between me and the Dobie.

Heck, perhaps it'd do us good to actually just talk and not just try to tear each other's clothes off to get into the action, I knew very well that I was familiar with the real man called Victor Holden on a very casual level that consisted mostly of comparing favorite TV shows and talking about the weather and car shock absorbers, which was something of a foreign subject for me, admittedly. That said, I also knew his brother a little bit too well, I think, and I had a rather intimate knowledge about the searing hot internal temperatures contained within Victor Holden's tight fetish fuel rump. Guess it was at least a beginning, though?

I still hadn't heard from him since last night, but Victor, like me, probably was already at work, and would get back to me later on, I was sure of that, and the very idea of a Victor communication was enough to keep me at least a little bit happier than usual, even at this godforsaken hour that was required of us.

"...and then professor Anderson told us that we have to read 1,200 pages by next week, and write a 3,000-word abstract detailing the key points of the text, and that's just the beginning!" Crystal's raised voice caught my attention and made my ears flick rapidly by its volume.

Marge, standing by the CONTEMPORARY VAMPIRE-WEREWOLF PULP ROMANCE shelf, shook her head and chuckled nasally, very cat-like, and flicked her ears cheerfully.

"Sounds like he's gotten lenient with age," Marge suggested with a smirk.

Crystal shook her head quickly.

"You call that lenient?" she didn't sound like she was buying what Marge said.

The cougar's smile didn't waver.

"Well, it used to be 1,500 pages and 6,000 words by next Monday, so compared to that, you've got it better, Crystal," she detailed.

"Ugh," Crystal's fingers moved over the backs of some college textbooks as she walked along the shelf, her tail and ears flicking rapidly with her ireful nerves.

"Just remember to keep reading and it'll all be fine," the swaying-tailed cougar assured the mare with an almost motherly smile, that made me smile too, and flip my own tail about cheerfully.

"I can always borrow you some of my notes!" I called over, hoping to sound as helpful as possible. "Besides, my notes are newer than Marge's."

Marge snuffled.

"Ha-ha-ha!" Marge snorted.

I smiled innocently and pushed the till closed, happy with the capital we had for use in our transactions.

"Can't help it," I chuckled.

"Babyface, oh right!" Marge retaliated, her bust bouncing as she walked up to me and leaned against the counter, giving me her eyes while her tail swayed rapidly from side to side.

I leaned on my side of the counter and just smiled as calmly as I knew how.

"Thought you liked calling me studmuffin, Marge," I replied.

The cougar licked her lips.

"Well you know...as long as I'm not old enough to be your mother, you're free game," Marge purred lustrously and winked.

I heard Crystal chuckle deeply from the other side of the shop, and flicked my own ears in mirth, too, to make sure that I was especially amused-looking.

"So keep that in mind, Rory," Marge stayed in her bosom-prominent position, shoulders arched back, as she looked at me with her keen eyes, going up and down my body, or at least all of it that she could see from her vantage point.

"How could I forget?" I replied, keeping my own posture and tone while we stared at each other.

"You sure Goggy won't mind that you go flirting around with our Rory?" the mare spoke up, now coming up over to us two, engaged in our duel of leering gazes.

Marge simply purred.

"Ohh of course he won't mind...," she flicked an ear as if to brush the notion away with that movement, "I am sure he is absolutely not at all opposed to my acquaintance with Rory...quite the contrary, in fact..."

I chuckled.

"I am sure that your Goggy would mind if he'd catch me making some moves at his very attractive girlfriend," I offered, surely, Marge had described the leopard as a jealous type, too, and I didn't want this game to become too serious, anyway, so a little bit of a provocation was always a good thing, when timed right.

Marge purred again.

"Perhaps he won't mind that I get so much satisfaction from being the unattainable target of your lustrous desire that when I go home I'm so full of...feelings, that they simply must be...released..." she kept speaking in that low, slightly breathy voice which she could put on so very easily.

"Multiple times, I'm sure," I spoke, harkening back to Marge's comments from before, when she had been more than frank about her more interesting experiences when it came to...things that I didn't want to casually thing about.

"Of course," Marge flicked both of her ears, chuffed, and stood back again, to a more upright posture. "Goggy sends you a hello, by the way, he was wondering how you liked the food yesterday."

I snuffled.

"He knows I was there?" I recalled the waitress from yesterday, and how she had asked me for a message to give for the leopard, but since I hadn't even met him in person, ever, I hardly had anything to say.

"Yeah, apparently the waitress told him that a friend of Marge's had come in and then he asked me about it and I told him that it must have been Rory from work," Marge detailed, confirming my earlier suspicions, which I confirmed to Marge with a nod of my own.

"I didn't really know what to say, the waitress did ask me if I wanted to send him a note or something," I explained bashfully.

"He was just curious whether he liked the food he made," Marge continued.

I smiled broadly now, and flicked my ears happily as I recalled the delicious dinner I had shared with my surprise company last night.

"It was great, it really was, and the atmosphere was nice, I think it was a really nice place," I explained, hoping that it sounded enthusiastic enough to satisfy the protective cougar about my opinion on Goggy's culinary skills and the general approval of his workplace.

Marge smiled.

"I better tell him that, I think he'll be pleased to hear that you like his cooking," Marge noted, "even if you don't like his art."

She gave me a pointed look, and my tail and my ears flopped down automatically as I was subjected to such a gaze. Busted...although only a small twinge of guilt panged against the pit of my belly as I knew that I had to try to talk myself out of this or face the horrible consequences of pissing Marge off. At least I looked guilty enough, though, and it might make my explanation more believable.

"Well I know that I really should head over to his...uhh...fan group..."

"Fan project," Marge corrected.

"To his fan project," I nodded, "and really see all there is to see about his...what does he call it?"

"Experimental texture technique that combines traditional subjects with modern techniques and pigments to create a perfect fusion of the old and the new into a completely new three-dimensional art experience project," Marge replied, deadpan.

"Ahh...," I rumbled, hopelessly.

Marge winked.

"I've shown him your Facebook pictures, you know," the cougar said.

I tilted my head in question.

"What?"

"Yeah, I mean, of course I tell him ALL about my workday and what funny Rory or Mason or Crystal or clients were doing today, and he was curious, and we went by your Facebook...," she carried on, "and Goggy thinks that you could very well model for him."

My tail smacked against the side of the counter loudly as I laughed.

"Me?"

Crystal nickered happily from the side and chuckled.

Marge flicked her ears at me pointedly.

"Why not?" she spoke. "Goggy thinks that you've got a good body type and your fur's of a tone that makes it very easy to mix paints on it for different colours, especially if he sprays some lighter base over it to make it all even."

I shook my head a little at the notion of having a go at nude modelling in the paws of Marge's mysterious boyfriend, who probably handled his brushes like he handled his knives in kitchen. And what's the talk about spray paint? I snuffled.

"I'm not really photogenic," I tried, knowing that it was a very poor defence.

"Well you don't need to be Rory exactly, just...more like...a lion-shaped lump of flesh and fur he can work with," Marge teased.

I shrugged and didn't really know what to think of that.

"You should think about it," Marge spoke, winking at me, "Goggy thinks you'd make a really good fruit basket."

Crystal practically doubled over with laughter while I just stood there, staring at Marge dumbly.

"A.Fruit.Basket," I mumbled between my lips.

Marge didn't seem to even flinch despite the roaring laughter from the mare.

"Yeah, you'd just take a bunch of grapes or a pineapple to cover your fun bits and you'll just sit there, relax, and let him work his magic on you to turn your furs into a fruit basket. Some apples over your chest and a proud bananas painted on your arms and maybe some melons..."

I probably looked even more stupid than usual as I just stood there with my maw just a little open, stupefied by the pure insanity of Marge's latest statement.

"FRUIT BASKET!" Crystal's laughter clattered and rang throughout the shop as she kept giggling uncontrollably.

I snuffled and shook my head quietly.

"You're crazy...," I sighed.

Marge snickered under her breath and let her tail flick around happily.

"I don't know about how crazy you are, but I'm going to be crazy enough to open this shop, it's eight am," she tipped her head towards the clock, indicating to us that we would better shape up and try to act like grownup furs for once.

I straightened my back and ruffled my mane and tried not to feel like a fruit basket.

*

Date thoughts and strategically placed pineapples aside, the morning didn't get to much of an exiting start. Sometimes it felt pointless to keep this place open from starting this early, since usually you'd only get a couple dozen customers before noon at least, since everyone was either at work, at school, or maybe, shockingly, ASLEEP while we toiled here, to provide enlightenment to the masses.

"It'll be 16.99 please," I added the tax and declared the grand total for the price of the more than enlightening Vampire Crystal Chronicles III - Return of the Guardians which I then expertly slipped into its suitably blood-coloured carrier bag.

The bear girl buying the book handed me over a twenty and I handed her over the receipt, the change and the bag, which she took without a thank you at her friendly customer service worker Rory, and she left equally swiftly, poorer in her wallet, and probably not very much richer in the spiritual side either.

I tapped the sides of the cash register with my claws and hoped that my phone would beep and suggest a message from Victor telling that he had some awesome and possibly buttsex-inclusive plan for next Thursday.

Noon, however, brought along one potential complication to my happy moods, though, that being the arrival of a certain frat wolf, coming to work for his shift, since Crystal was only doing half a day since she had lectures in the afternoon. I gave Mason a quick smile and a nod in greeting as he walked past me on his way in. I was left wondering on how could I talk to him now and bring up his earlier...well...the fact that Mason had asked me out yesterday, and we had been interrupted before I had managed to ask him anything else about the exact nature of his invitation. There was still the off chance that he just wanted to ask me to hang out with him, or for a beer, not for a date that was also his tender confession of having illicit homosexual feelings for his straight co-worker Rory...or perhaps he indeed had figured out some mysterious quiet...dunno...signs that told him that the lion was actually a full-blown butt enthusiast. Not that there was anything wrong about being who I was, but the wolf's motives puzzled me alright, and I really didn't know how to deal with it so well.

Next to me, Marge yawned and stretched quickly, and gave my ankles a tail bat.

"I think I'll have my break now, I'll send Mason up here to help you, okay?" she spoke to me, and I nodded to her quickly, not wanting to show Marge any kinds of unease I might have about the wolf at the moment.

"Sure."

"See you in ten minutes, I'll bring that box of travel brochures along as well, I think we forgot to put them up yet."

"Yeah, I think we did," I replied to her idle chatter in kind and watched how she made her bust-bouncing and tail-looping way over towards the small steps leading to the lower level of the bookshop.

The wolf soon appeared, too, clad in jeans and his red Albrecht Brothers shirt complete with the nametag declaring that you would be served by Mason. He slipped behind the counter and stood by the second cash register, his eyes pretty much fixed on the opposite wall.

My ears flicked as I wondered whether he was feeling uneasy with me all sudden, which, honestly speaking, would not have been such a surprising state of affairs, considering what had happened yesterday, and how shy he seemed the about the whole business. I knew that this really wasn't the place to try and talk about it, too public for starters, and with Marge hovering about, of course, but I guess I could do something...

"You okay, Mason?" I spoke cheerfully, giving him lots of ear flicks for emphasis to signify the presence of a happyhappy Rory here.

Mason's closest ear flicked and he gave me a glance, but didn't linger in watching me.

"Yeah okay," he scratched the side of his muzzle quickly. "Lots of reading."

"Crystal was saying the same, hehe," I added, still smiling.

"Yeah."

He certainly didn't sound like the happiest wolf around, not by a long shot, but I decided that it was my duty to try and engage him, to make sure that we weren't going to be totally weird about each other, so I tried my best to continue talking with him.

"Hopefully you'll have some fun stuff going on with your friends to balance that out," my ears did as much smiling as my lips.

Mason glanced at me quickly and nodded.

"Yeah, there's a games night tomorrow, might go and check it out."

"Cool," I could feel the mood plummeting by the second.

"Yeah, it's okay."

Now this obviously wasn't working like this...damn!

The doorbell chimed to signal the impeding arrival of a customer, and I took my best happyhappy welcome expression, hoping that it would not be yet another middle-aged woman wanting to buy an Adalmina Worthsworth novel.

"Hey sweeties!" a loud voice called at me and Mason from the muzzle of the new arrival, complete with a glint of metal from the incoming otter's tongue piercing.

Introducing Demetrius the Otter, the bartender of The Ramrod.

*

TO BE CONTINUED

*

Hehhey, and there was this Monday's chapter! If you have any comments, don't hesitate to drop me a line or two. Also remember that votes, faves and watches help others to find there stories as well.

Cheerio