Stray
"Stray"
by K.M. Hirosaki ([email protected])
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story and all characters are copyright © 2008 K.M. Hirosaki
"And when are you leaving?"
"Right after I get off of work." It's getting harder to mask my frustration, even over the phone. "I swear. I promise I'll be there that night."
"Because you know that we're heading out first thing the next morning."
"Yes, Mom, I know. I'll be there on time. Stop worrying about it." I know she won't.
She sighs. Part of me wants to hang up on her right then and there. "And is your friend coming along, too?"
"Which friend do you mean?" I know exactly who she's talking about, but I need to ask the question just to be polite; otherwise I will hang up on her.
"Oh, you know," she chides. "Matthias. Are you two still friendly?"
"Yes, Matthias is coming." As I say it, I turn to look over into the living room where Matt is sitting, and check to see if his ears perk at the mention of his name. "And we'll both be there on time, honest."
"Call your father tomorrow and see if he needs you to bring anything."
"Yeah, I'll do that, Mom," I say. I hear her take a breath and prepare to speak, so I quickly add, "And I'll see you then. Looking forward to it."
Before she can get another word in edgewise, I flip my phone shut. Then I growl. I know that Matt can hear it, but I know he'll know I was on the phone with my mother, and he'll understand. He probably doesn't quite know the degree of hurt that I feel from conversations like the one I just had, but he understands enough, and that's good enough for me.
Reason being, of course, is that my 'friend' Matthias and I have been a couple for the last eight years. It took nearly three of those years before anyone would willingly recognize Matt as a member of the Cavalier Ridge Pack, and even then, the pack on the whole still regards him the same way that they'd regard any wolf that was unfortunate enough to be left without a family and who had been adopted as an act of brotherly charity.
For my mother to pretend like she needs to check whether Matthias will still be coming for the Waxing Moon Festival is nothing short of an insult, akin to me asking her whether our father would be coming or not. Pack philosophy isn't incompatible with the idea that I'd take another male for my mate; heck, there was even a preexisting ceremony that allowed me to voice my intent to do just that. Honestly, I think Mom's just upset that my brother has a wife with cubs on the way, and he isn't as handsome as me. Or something.
I lean back against the wall and sigh. I want to get the anger and frustration out of my system before I go back to join Matt on the couch. After all, he's not the one I'm angry with, and I'd hate to accidentally take things out on him. I don't think he'd take it personally, but it's better than risking--as my mother so tritely put it--the two of us not being 'friendly' with one another anymore.
My head swivels to one side as I hear a soft rapping at the front door. The sensor for the outside light causes it to flick on, and through the window I see Lukas. He sees me, and his slender muzzle breaks into a big, happy, altogether too foxish smile.
It's smiles like this one that I have trouble reading, especially coming from a fox. In Lukas' case, I like to harmlessly assume that the glimmer behind his eyes is his way of making me want to fuck him. I have to figure that in at least some of those instances, that's exactly what he's trying for, but that's Lukas for you. He's just teasing, of course, and that's where both of us glean our enjoyment from it, and so that's where it stops.
Tonight, though, as I examine that smile for a few moments longer, it looks like he's going for something different. He looks proud and smug--more than he usually does, that is--and before I even open the door for him, he's opening it for himself. There's a brief rush of cold air as he steps on through, and then he closes the door with his back, letting his tail swish free.
"What's the matter, handsome?" Lukas asks. That smile of his still hasn't gone away. "Where's that little flash of fang that I like to see?" Okay, maybe he is trying to make me want to fuck him.
"Family," I reply.
When I don't flirt back, Lukas drops the act on his end, too. "Waxing Moon Festival?" he asks.
Lukas is one of our best friends. He drops by just about every other day, it feels, popping in for either a few minutes or a few hours at a stretch, depending on what's going on with Matt and I and what's going on with him. I can't tell, yet, which of those tonight's visit is going to be.
"Honestly, I'm at the point where I'm considering inventing some fake emergency that prevents me from traveling." I glance back toward the living room. I can't quite see Matt from this angle. "I know that Matt would be upset if I tried that, though."
My partner calls out from the other room. "Hon, is that Lukas?"
"Yep, it's me," Lukas calls back. "Have you guys eaten yet?"
"Not yet." I hear Matt get up from the couch. The noise from the television goes silent, but I can still see the light patterns flickering and flashing against the walls.
I lead Lukas out of the entryway and we meet Matthias halfway. "What's up?" he asks, looking more at Lukas than at me.
"You guys want to grab dinner and then maybe head out to see a movie?" Again, that's Lukas for you. Sometimes I wonder if he ever plans anything out more than a few hours ahead of time.
Matthias and I exchange glances. I read his face, and he reads mine, and then he says, "I dunno, I'm not really feeling the idea of going out tonight."
"Want to just order in, then?" Lukas suggests. "Maybe throw on a movie here?"
"I was just going to cook and watch the game," Matt says.
Lukas' ears twitch once. He's not into sports nearly as much as Matt (and even myself) are. "Come on," he says, walking past us and heading into the dining kitchen. "Let's just have some pizzas delivered and throw something mindless on."
There's a smile on Matt's face when he turns to look back at me. I know that he really wants to watch the game, but he just grins and asks me, "What do you think?"
"Sure," I say, loud enough for Lukas to hear, too. "Pizza and a movie works for me." When I head into the dining kitchen, I notice just how perky the fox is coming across. He's usually the chipper sort, I'll admit, but he's almost ebullient right now--and I find that a little bit odd.
"Hey, I'm gonna go through your guys' movie collection, okay?" the fox says, already trotting off into the living room to do as he said. I watch the way that his tail swishes as he walks over to the movie case and bends down to peruse the titles--not because I'm staring at his butt, mind, but just because something about the cadence of his wagging catches my attention.
That attention is broken when Matt puts a paw on my shoulder. "Do you want to call, or should I?" he asks. He doesn't sound at all upset at the decision to skip the game. It might not even be an act.
"Do you mind calling?" I ask.
"Not at all." He stares at me for a few seconds. "What was your mother going on about?"
"She's just worried we're going to be late and miss the big pack outing. You know, because they love us so much."
The paw on my shoulder tightens. "Come on, honey," Matt says quietly. "Don't let it get to you. We always have fun when we get there."
I want to say something like, That's because you don't notice the way they stare at us when they think we're not looking, but that would start a fight, and I don't want to do that with Lukas here, and I don't want to do that after the conversation I just had with my mother, and so instead, I say, "Yeah, I know. Mom's just being... Mom. I'll get over it."
He nods, then nuzzles me. "What do you want on the pizza? Just the usual?"
"You know what I like, and you know what Lukas likes," I say. "I'll go help him pick out a movie that I know you'll actually let us make you sit through."
Matt smirks at me, then slaps me playfully on the hip. "I'll take care of the pizza," he says. "And don't let Lukas put on any musicals."
"Done and done," I reply, wagging for his benefit as I head on into the living room to join our vulpine friend. His tail is still swishing to and fro, confirming my earlier suspicions.
The fox is hunched over, a single claw tracing along the spines of movie after movie, showing great concentration in trying to pick out the one flick that will be "just right" for the evening's entertainment. "What all haven't you guys watched recently?" he asks.
"Not much, really," I say. "Pick something, and I'll let you know." I pat him on the back.
He stands back up. His eyes narrow and he regards me with passing suspicion. "No musicals?" he asks.
I crack a smile. "Yeah, if you don't mind."
"All right. I'll find something," he says, bending back over and fishing through the rack again.
I pause intentionally for a few seconds, standing in place next to him. "So, is Hughes going to be bringing you along to anything for the Waxing Moon Festival?" I ask.
Lukas doesn't look up. "Eh. Probably not," he says. The tip of his tail brushes against my shin, but even I'm pretty sure it's just an accident.
"I know coyotes celebrate it a little differently from us wolves," I say. "They're more... lax. I can see it being okay for him to bring a fox along."
"Maybe. He hasn't really mentioned it. I don't think he's interested." His voice is flat, too flat, and his ebullience is instantly muted.
I allow for another pause. "You broke up with him, didn't you?"
That seeking claw falls away from the movie rack, and the fox sighs before he stands back upright. "Look, can we not have this be a 'thing' tonight?" he asks me. His tone isn't pleading, but I can tell that's how he means it. "Seriously, I just want to relax and watch a movie with you guys. Is that cool?"
Lukas goes through boyfriends pretty quickly. Or maybe it's just that, as a wolf, my expectations of 'commitment' are different. Even so, if one of Lukas' relationships hits the three-month mark, it's kind of a big deal. With Hughes, Lukas had been running on four. He hadn't shown a lot of outward enthusiasm about things, but looking into the fox's eyes right now, I realize that he liked the coyote a lot more than he ever let on.
Sometimes I worry that Lukas might be jealous of what Matthias and I have with each other.
"Yeah, that's cool," I reply, patting the fox on the shoulder. "Might I prescribe either Action or Comedy?"
"If musicals are still a no-no, then sure." Lukas is almost too good at making fake smiles look honest. If I didn't know better, I'd probably be fooled by this one.
From back out in the kitchen, Matthias informs us that the pizza is on its way and should be here in about half an hour. "Hey," Lukas says quickly, while we're still alone, "can you please not mention this to Matt? I mean, just for tonight?"
"All right." The fox seems so young to me in that moment.
"Hey, Matt, help us pick something out," Lukas says, waving him over to us. His tail starts up its excited wagging again, and I smile, ready to let it go, ready to let the three of us forget what's frustrating us, to let ourselves turn our brains off and watch the good guy shoot the bad guys and for everything to turn out perfectly okay at the end.
*
After the movie is over, Lukas goes home, Matt does the dishes, and I break down the pizza boxes and take them out to the recycling bin.
Upstairs, I tell Matthias I'm sorry that he had to miss out on watching the game, and to show me that he's not mad, he sits me down on the bed and sucks my dick. He makes a playful show of it, looking up into my face with a look in his eyes that makes him look incongruously adorable and innocent. For the next few minutes, I forget about all the drama and bullshit that's bothering me, and I enjoy my lover's thoroughness. When I finally get off, my groan carries with it relief on multiple levels.
Matt knows I'm tired and stressed, and so he's kind enough to settle for me using my paw to return the favor. There's no way we're going to be able to fuck over the Waxing Moon Festival weekend, and we probably won't have the opportunity to do so before then, either, but he doesn't complain about keeping things simple for tonight. Eight years of familiarity guide my fingers and my grip, and I grin like an idiot as I get Matt to make a nice, white mess of his grayish belly.
Being the finicky sort, he heads into the bathroom to wash up before turning in for the night. I just roll over and tuck myself in under the covers. I'm nearly asleep when he finally returns, and I lazily murmur, "I love you, too," after he kisses the back of my ears and wishes me goodnight.
*
Two days after the night that Lukas dropped by to watch the movie, I've taken the day off work. There's enough going on with trying to plan things for the big family outing, and I don't want to have to play phone tag with my folks while in the middle of trying to put presentations together. Instead, I take the opportunity to unwind, and I meet my friend Tomas for lunch.
Tomas is a jaguar. I envy him for that right now, because it means he doesn't have to worry about the Waxing Moon Festival. This is in addition to the normal jealousy I have for Tomas: he's one of those guys who telecommutes, which in my observation has meant that he doesn't have a schedule, doesn't have a real job, and yet somehow still has more money than me.
Today, he's dressed nicer than one would think for someone who sits at home on his computer all day. "Let me know if you're not going to finish that," he mumbles with his mouth full, pointing at my plate. That's the other thing I hate about Tomas: I don't think he could gain weight if he went out of his way and tried to.
"You'll be the first to know," I jibe, still poking at my plate. Honestly, it is nice to get to see him. Even if his nonexistent schedule should make it easy to touch base with him, Matthias and I have been so busy as of late that neither of us have been able to.
Tomas takes a noisy sip of his drink. "So, you looking forward to this weekend?"
I should have known he wouldn't let the whole meal pass by without bringing up the inevitable. "I'll be looking forward to it more when it's actually underway."
"Is it a huge pain in the ass to get all the way back to Cavalier Ridge?"
"The way my mother talks about it, you'd think it was rocket science."
"Hey, at least then you'd have an excuse." He takes another sip. All that's left in his glass is whatever has melted off of the ice. "Then again, I suppose an excuse to get together and party isn't so bad, either."
I think back on the last three and a half decades of Waxing Moon Festivals I've been party to. The ones that happened during the first half of my life were, on the whole, better than the ones in the latter. "I still think that maybe you cats have it right after all," I say. "There are times when independence from the family sounds like it trumps pack loyalty."
"Hey, at least in a pack, you have loyalty. We felines will stab our own flesh and blood in the back just because they happen to be within the easiest reach."
I smirk. "I knew there was a reason I've never met any of your brothers."
Tomas jabs a finger at me. "Don't even get me started," he says, a smile belying his lack of real anger. "I told you about what Pablo did to me up in Fabiola last year."
"I don't think you did, actually."
He looks confused. "Wow, shit, really?" he asks. I nod. "Okay, so get this, then," he says, pushing his empty glass aside so that his paws have room to gesticulate while he speaks. "So, we're doing Jester Weekend up in Fabiola, right? And on the second night, I'm completely trashed, hugging the toilet, and so I beg him to get me some water and some towels, and he's all, 'Yeah, sure, bro, I'll be right back.' And like, five minutes pass, and he's still not back--meanwhile, like, three other people have stepped on my tail before realizing that the bathroom isn't free--and so I start yelling for him to get his ass back there.
"So, he finally waddled back on over, no water or towels in sight, and he's got this vixen who's almost as drunk as I am hanging onto him. And so I'm like, 'What the fuck?' And he's all, 'Oh, sorry, bro, I'm on my way out. But don't feel bad--' And this is the kicker, listen to this shit-- 'Don't feel bad. It's not like you're into girls, anyway.' And then he just fucking leaves me there!"
At this time of day, the restaurant is filled with folks engaged in business lunches, having their own discussions, and so no one is staring at us by the time Tomas is done with his anecdote. "Well, so our family has one thing in common, at least, in its sense of humor," I reply.
"Yeah, well, my brother can treat someone else to his sense of humor this year, because I already told him that I already made my own Jester Weekend plans this time, and he's not a part of them."
"What is Jester Weekend, anyway?"
Tomas stares back at me like I've got two heads. A second later, his grin is back. "Wow, you guys really do take your holiday shit seriously, don't you?"
"Evidently. Why, what's the deal?"
"Jester Weekend's what the rest of us get up to while all you canines are off doing your Waxing Moon Festival," Tomas explains. "You know, because for some reason, the whole world comes to a halt when the wolves and the dogs and coyotes are preoccupied, and so us non-canines have to do something with our time."
"Jester Weekend," I repeat. "You're kidding me."
"Like I said, you canines take your holidays way too seriously; otherwise you'd know what a great time the rest of us have." Tomas looks smug, now, even for a cat, and he must be able to sense that I'm thinking that, because he plays up his expression even more. "You guys really do miss out. I think it's actually illegal to have that degree of irresponsible fun outside of college," he adds. "Plus, it's about the only time you'll ever see tigers actually getting along with other felines."
It takes a lot to get a wolf to resent his heritage--well, when they don't have a family like mine, at any rate. Still, I'm baffled that I've honestly never heard of this Jester Weekend thing, and if Tomas were actually managing to maintain a straight face, then I'd swear he was just fucking with me. Instead, I'm just jealous, because a weekend of senseless fun sounds a whole lot better than what I've got in store for me.
As much as I'm stressed out, though, I'm not the person most in need of a pick-up. "What about foxes?" I ask.
"Foxes?" Tomas asks back. "Hmm. They're sort of an unknown variable, you know?" He taps his fingers against the table, then, as if running calculations through some imaginary computer program of his. "I mean, they're not canines, but for the rest of us, they fall under 'close enough,' and so you don't see a whole lot of them at Jester Weekend, really."
"Well, what do the foxes do, then?"
"I dunno. Whatever foxes usually get up to, I guess," Tomas says. "It's not like they don't show up at Jester Weekend at all or anything." A funny look comes over his face. "Why are you asking about foxes, anyhow?"
I fidget my paws beneath the table where Tomas can't see. "You know Lukas, right?" Tomas nods. "Well, it's just that he hasn't been doing so hot, lately, and I was thinking it might be good for him to get out there and have some of that 'irresponsible fun' you mentioned."
"Isn't Lukas dating a coyote?"
"Not anymore," I say. Tomas' ears go back. "Yeah, exactly. But anyhow, do these brotherless weekend plans of yours have room for a fox at all?"
A sly grin--one that's pretty foxy in its own right--overtakes the jaguar's muzzle. "If he's single now, that makes it a little easier to work him in, sure."
"Tomas!" I chide. "Come on, he's just fresh off of a breakup." Although now that I'm faced with the notion, I can't imagine that Lukas isn't the kind of guy who's wont to indulge in no-strings-attached rebound sex.
Tomas holds up his paws in defense. "Hey, I didn't say I was going to do anything untoward," he says. "Seriously, Lukas is hot, and I think he'd have to try to not get laid at Jester Weekend."
I think about the sort of wild, college-type parties that Tomas has been mentioning, and I get the very clear mental image of Lukas in the midst of some torrid three-way, getting double-teamed by a pair of guys he's just met, and I actually bite my lip as I purge that image from my mind. "Getting laid aside, though," I say, "do you think it'd be cool if he tagged along with you for the weekend?"
"I can ask," Tomas says. "I mean, he's certainly welcome to come, if he's interested."
"Would you mind?" I ask. "I think he'd really appreciate it, just to get the chance to unwind and all."
At least one of us should have the opportunity to unwind this weekend, after all.
*
I'd thought it was bad enough that my quiet time with Matthias had been interrupted at all. As I hang up the phone, though, I'm even more angry than before. I think I'm actually livid.
Miracle of miracles, Matt and I had actually managed to finagle a half hour worth of quiet time with each other. It was the sort of thing where neither one of us had been planning on it, but after taking a breather on the couch, paws started to wander, and it was clear that we were both intent on getting something out of the respite, and that we weren't even going to break long enough to sneak back upstairs to the bed.
Then the phone rang.
Matthias told me not to answer it. "But it's my dad," I'd said. All the more reason not to answer it, really, but that just goes to show how much this whole Waxing Moon Festival has messed up my priorities.
My erection was a distant memory within seconds of my having picked up the phone. Within a minute, I had taken things into the garage so that I could pace while growling. Every so often, I checked the light coming in from underneath the door, just to make sure that Matthias wasn't listening in. He wasn't.
When I come out of the garage, though, he's standing in the hallway. His arms are folded, but he doesn't look too angry. I think he's maybe just worried. Or maybe he's bracing himself to be upset and is hoping past hope that I won't bring bad news.
As soon as he sees the snarl I've got on my face, though, I see that hope crumble, and it kills me. "What is it, hon?" he asks.
I want to swear or punch the wall or maybe both, but I restrain myself for Matt's sake. "We're not going to Cavalier Ridge this weekend," I say.
I start to move past him, but he blocks me. "What are you talking about?" he asks. His eyes are wide. I can't think of the last time I saw him look this concerned or this confused.
"The pack is just being the pack," I say. "And if our presence isn't going to be desired, then I'm done trying to burden them with it."
This time, Matthias lets me past, but he falls into step alongside me. "But what happened?" he asks. "What'd your father say?"
"My father," I say, my teeth nearly biting into the word itself, "seems to have been under the mistaken impression that my relationship with you is something that's open to negotiation."
When I continue to head for the stairs, Matt grabs me by the wrist. "Hold up," he says, tugging. I turn to look at him, and his gaze holds mine. "Sit still for a second. What did he say to you?"
"You want to know?" My father's exact words are still rattling around inside my head, but I tone them down for my lover's sake. "Apparently, my Uncle Terral is a bit concerned about the family dynamic, and needed to have a word with my father about that."
"Concerned about what?"
"It seems that Uncle Terral wanted to check to see if the two of us were going to be coming home for the Waxing Moon Festival," I say. "My dad wanted to double-check with me to see for sure whether or not you'd be coming, because if you were, then Terral wanted to know so that he could leave his kids back home."
The disbelief that blossoms on Matthias' face is devoid of the rage I myself had felt upon hearing the same thing from my father. "He what?" I feel his paw tighten around my wrist. "What, because suddenly this year, things are different?"
I snort. "Evidently, he thinks that Cam is 'old enough to figure things out,' now."
"Well, your Uncle Terral is an idiot." I know that Matthias never got along super-well with my uncle, but neither had they been coarse or cold toward one another. "At least your father was decent enough to give you the heads up."
This is where, if I weren't so angry, I might hesitate to say what comes next, but I'm not in enough control of my faculties. "My father wanted me to consider coming without you," I tell him. "You know, 'for the pack's sake.'"
Matt's paw falls away from mine. He swallows and then mouths something wordlessly. "Well, I mean..." he starts, only to stop. Then he begins again. "Come on, who cares what your Uncle Terral thinks, right? Let him be an idiot."
"I already told my dad that we're not coming," I say. "If they're going to be like that, then I don't want to be around them." I break away and begin to march up the stairs.
"Honey," Matthias calls after me. "Honey, hold up. Please." He begins to follow after me. "Come on, you know you can't just do that."
"Yeah, well, they can't just ask me to pretend like you don't exist."
My lover's footsteps get quicker. "Just call your father back and--"
"I'm not talking to my father."
"--ask him to talk to your uncle and tell him that he's being unreasonable."
Matt stumbles over his own feet as I come to an abrupt stop and spin around to look him right in the eye. I level one of my fingers with his face. "If my father respected the two of us at all, he'd never have even asked me to consider what he did," I snap. My mate flinches. "So forget him, forget my uncle, forget the whole damn lot of them--we're not going."
I realize too late that I've vented too much of my anger at Matthias, because his ears flatten and his tail goes completely still. I've hurt him, I can see, but it's still nothing compared to what my own family has just done to me. "Honey, please," he says. Fuck, his voice is only barely more than a whimper. "You've still got to consider the pack."
Matthias yelps as I grab both of his paws in mine and clasp them between our chests. "The Cavalier Ridge Pack includes you, Matt," I say, our noses almost touching. "If they're not going to consider you, then I'm not going to consider them."
Something moves behind Matt's eyes. My mind tries to imagine all of the things he might be thinking or that he might want to say: terrible things, like how he's sorry that our being together has disrupted my family so much, or like how maybe it would have been better for me if we hadn't gotten together in the first place. Instead, though, his ears stay down, and he just says, "I guess I'll go start unpacking, then." He tugs his paws free of mine.
For the life of me, I cannot figure out how or why Matthias would want or even expect me to just make nice with my family and decide to go to the Waxing Moon Festival without him. I refuse to accept that he considers pack loyalty to be a greater virtue than the love that he and I share with one another.
Just when he slips out of view, into the bedroom, I call after him. "No, wait," I say. "Don't unpack." I walk in after him. "There's someplace else we can go this weekend."
*
"Just so you know, you might get a lot of looks from people," Tomas says. "On account of your being wolves, and all."
"Oh, it can't be all that bad," I reply. "There's got to be plenty of wolves who say 'Screw the Waxing Moon Festival' and decide to get out of town for a while."
Matthias growls softly when I make that disparaging remark; I nearly miss hearing it entirely over the sound of the engine running.
In the rearview mirror, I see Lukas lean up in the backseat so that he can make eye contact with me up front. "Hey, you can always hang out with us if things get a bit shifty up there."
"I'm sure we'll be seeing plenty of you, don't worry," I say. Already, though, I've noticed some touchy-feeliness--very subtle, mind, but I'm nosy--between the fox and the jaguar in my backseat, so I won't be terribly surprised if they make themselves scarce every now and again.
The highway from here to Altianda seems pretty clear. It's before noon, but it's also the weekend, and so I'd expect more traffic on the road. Then again, most of the wolves and coyotes going back to their respective families for the Waxing Moon Festival probably headed out last night. Maybe what Tomas said the other day about the whole world shutting down when all us canines leave town has an element of truth to it.
"I'm just saying," Tomas murmurs. "I don't want you to be surprised if you find yourselves getting cold-shouldered or anything."
When Tomas says that, Matthias makes an attempt at giving me a significant look out of the corner of my eye, but since I'm driving, I don't make a move to acknowledge it. Really, I'm not sure if I even want to. It took enough work on my part to convince him to come along on this venture in the first place, and I somehow doubt that my validating his annoyed reluctance will help the mood on the trip.
Tomas, too, seems to have wanted to dissuade Matthias and I from coming, if I had to guess from what he's been saying. When I'd first mentioned wanting to come along with him and Lukas, he'd been pretty insistent that we wouldn't be able to find a room, and even after I'd called the hotel and confirmed a reservation, it wasn't until I offered to take the four of us up in my car that he'd shown any real enthusiasm for our going together. And now, of course, here he is, helping to milk my mate's insecurities by voicing concerns about our ability to have fun when we get there.
"How much longer is it to Altianda?" Lukas asks.
I can't wait to know the same thing.
*
The real reason behind Tomas' apparent reluctance becomes obvious the moment we step in through the front door of the hotel. The scent in the lobby is overwhelmingly male. Not that it's overpowering or unpleasant or anything. It's just that there's a marked lack of female scent in the air, and for a public place like a hotel lobby, that's not the norm.
A quick glance around the lobby shows that, indeed, there are almost no ladies around. I catch sight of a single panthress, but I don't spot any other females on my first look at the crowd. Not that it's a throng that's packing the lobby or anything, but it's clear that there are a lot of people here--well, a lot of guys, at any rate.
"Come on, let's go get checked in," Tomas says, dragging his bag with him, and practically dragging Lukas with him, as well. The fox looks back over his shoulder at me, but then just lets himself get swept up in the goings-on.
Once our companions are out of earshot, Mathias turns and looks at me. No--he glares at me. "What the hell is this supposed to be?" he asks. He's not snapping, but I can tell that it's taking him an awful lot of effort to not do so.
"How am I supposed to know? I just got here, too."
"You let Tomas take us to some gay meat market?"
"We don't know that that's what this is."
He rolls his eyes at me. "Oh, right, like you can't smell the edge of arousal in the air right now?"
"I think that's raccoon you're smelling," I say. Too late, I remember how Matt doesn't take too well to my joking when he's trying to be serious.
Certainly, though, this congregation can't just be about guys getting together for some big gay meet-and-greet. I mean, the lack of females doesn't necessarily imply that. After all, Tomas had that story about his brother and that vixen.
Then again, come to think of it, that had been at a place up in Fabiola, and Tomas had made the special point of separating his plans for those of his brother, so perhaps he'd wanted to ensure that whatever happened to him last year couldn't happen again.
Matthias makes a point of staring past my shoulder, presumably at some group of guys assembled behind me. "And you really think that coming here instead of going to the Waxing Moon Festival was a good idea, do you?"
"I think that not going to dignify my family with our presence was a good idea."
Matthias sighs. "Look, come on, let's just get checked in. And then we can get Tomas to explain what the hell this is all supposed to be."
*
Before the first afternoon is out, it's clear that, yeah, a lot of the guys who've come here have come here to fuck. The festivities themselves--those sanctioned by the hotel space and the surrounding areas--are, of course, nothing of such a licentious nature, but the crowd that's come to partake in the holiday gathering is most definitely not the sort that holds a lot of interest in the female half of society.
The four of us had decided to see, once we'd all gotten settled, what the facilities had to offer. It took Lukas and Tomas nearly an hour after check-in to meet Matthias and I back down in the lobby, and I'm certain it didn't take them that long just to unpack their things. I didn't smell anything on them when they finally did show up, but a fox like Lukas surely knows to purge scents when about to be in the presence of fellow canids.
Aside from a few comments of observation here and there, Matt was mostly quiet for that first afternoon; at the very least, though, he wasn't quite as caustic or snappy. Lukas, meanwhile, had been more overtly enthusiastic about the scene. He tried to get the lot of us to put our names down on a sign-up sheet for a bowling tournament to be held later in the weekend ("Come on, you just know you want to see how good some of these guys are at handling balls!"), but the rest of us agreed that we should probably see what else was in store for the weekend before committing ourselves.
Matthias had rolled his eyes at the mention of commitment.
Right now, though, the only eye-rolling going on is with Lukas, observing a blatantly failed attempt at a pickup go horribly awry. The fox chuckles with reserved happiness at this poor panther's misfortune as his ass-grabbing paw is smacked away by a peeved-looking rabbit. Even I have to admit that it's pretty funny, and I give Lukas a knowing look as I take a sip of my drink.
I wonder if Lukas and I are the only two who have truly had any real fun so far this weekend. The alcohol probably helps a little, sure, but even accounting for that, I've gotten a more positive vibe from Lukas than I have from anyone else.
For the first day, Lukas and Tomas seemed joined at the hip. Hell, they were more obviously affectionate than Matthias and I. Today, though, I don't think I've seen the fox and the jaguar within line of sight to each other. I don't even know where Tomas is right now. Knowing him, though, if I had to guess, I'd say he's either trying--or has already succeeded--to get in the pants of someone who isn't Lukas. I have no doubt that there are parties going on right now where that would be more than possible.
I still can't figure out why Matthias is rubbed the wrong way by this place, though. Sure, a number of the guys who have come here have probably been engaging in the sort of sinful debauchery that's best left behind closed doors--but the thing is, it is being kept behind closed doors. I mean, people have sex. Gay guys are, by and large, going to have more sex when there are other gay guys around. It's not complicated math or anything.
Jester Weekend itself isn't some random fuckfest. If the last two days have taught me anything, it's that the rest of the world is able to let go and have a whole shitload of fun--doing things like going bowling and touring museums and having big, group dinners with people you've only just met--while the wolves of the world are off in the woods, plunging themselves into dour solemnity. And--surprise, surprise!--I've been able to have this sort of fun with my own mate, without running off to get blown by random rabbit down in the hotel lobby or whatever the fuck Matt's afraid I'm going to end up doing. I don't know what his fucking problem is with my apparently mystical ability to enjoy myself outside the context of the damned Waxing Moon Festival.
That is one thing I have to concede to, though: there really aren't any other wolves here. I think I saw one coyote, but no wolves. Now, I know for a fact that Matthias and I aren't the only two gay wolves on the face of the planet. Maybe the rest of them just have packs that actually accept their presence and welcome them into the family, and maybe that's why they're not here with the likes of us.
For the rest of us, there's the bar. It's just after midnight, and the bar in the hotel lobby is crowded. I think I'm on my third drink. Lukas is probably on his second, but then, he was sitting down here before I showed up, so he might've put a few more away before I joined him. Little foxes aren't really the best at holding their liquor, though.
I'm reminded of a sight I saw earlier that day. While taking a shortcut through one of the hotel's function rooms (a raccoon comedian was doing a stand-up routine that sounded like a lot of its humor came at the expense of canines), I spotted a pair of foxes in a darkened corner, making out. If Matthias' paranoia is to be justified, and if I'm to be guilty of any infidelity, it's in the fact that, yeah, I got an erection from watching these two adorable vulpines kiss one another while their tiny, furtive paws stroked over their slender, red-furred bodies, their tails flick-flicking every which way as they enjoyed themselves.
I take a glance over at Lukas and superimpose him into the memory of that situation. I mean, that's what we're here for--to enjoy ourselves, right? That's why I got Tomas to take Lukas up here in the first place, isn't it? Didn't I do that for him?
Yeah, I say that, but here we are, the two of us just drinking and people-watching. My mate's upstairs asleep, having turned in early (maybe because actively not having fun took so much out of him). Lukas' 'date' is likewise incommunicado, and even if he were around, I'm pretty sure that the two of them won't be kissing and making up anytime soon.
Fuck. I mean, it was only a day, right? I don't know what happened between the two of them. And yet, here's Lukas, looking at me and smiling like he's still having an awesome time up here, and damn it, I can't tell anymore when foxes are just good at pretending.
My drink is empty after one more sip. I'm about to get up and order another one, but Lukas stands up first. "Need a refill?" he asks me. I notice that his drink is empty, too.
"Yeah. Just another of the same," I say. I reach into my pocket for my wallet, but by the time I get it out, Lukas is already up at the bar, his big, red tail making him easy to spot amidst the pack of guys clustered up near him. Rather than force the money on him, I'll just get the next round, instead.
Tomorrow afternoon, we'll all be heading back home together. I hope to hell that the drive isn't awkward. At the very least, it's my car, so I get to control the music if nobody else is going to want to talk. Maybe with the lot of us going home, Matthias will feel better, and maybe we'll actually get along. And whatever's up with Tomas and Lukas... well, if that can sort itself out between now and then, that'd be peachy, too.
Lukas is back with a pair of drinks super-quick. I take a look up at the bar and see that several guys who were waiting before Lukas even stood up are still waiting there. The bartender, a tall skunk, looks over in my direction, and there's the briefest flash of guilt in his eyes before he goes to tend to another customer.
"He totally wants to fuck me," the fox says, setting my drink down in front of me before flopping down into his own chair. He makes it sound like a throwaway comment, but even under these circumstances, I'm sure he's proud of that.
"Half the people here probably want to fuck you," I reply, and the look of mock-offense on Lukas' face when I say that makes me chuckle some bubbles into my drink.
A moment after that, though, the fox's teasing demeanor disappears. "Nobody who I'd actually want to let do it, though," he says. His eyes look distant and older. "Apparently, though, if you flirt with someone even a little and then don't just raise your tail for them, you're some unforgivable tease." He takes a wide gulp of his own drink.
My mind starts to put together some puzzle pieces, sorting out what may have happened between Lukas and Tomas. I open my mouth to ask, but then I think better of it. We're not here to mope, after all.
Instead, I say, "Well, if it makes you feel any better, you know that I'd fuck you, if I could."
He smiles a weak half-smile. "And if I could, you know I'd let you." The tip of his tail twitches.
I read something in his eyes, then, and that something says, "I'm sorry that we can't actually do it." Looking back at him, I make sure that my eyes tell him, "I'm sorry that we can't actually do it, too."
And that's the first time it's ever actually really hit me. For all of our teasing and flirting that know isn't going anywhere, there's actual, honest sexual tension between Lukas and I, and we both know that it's there and that it's going to remain unresolved. We both know that we're never actually going to have sex with each other, and when I realize that we both know that, it makes me sad. Not sad that I won't get the opportunity to fuck a cute little fox, but just sad that there's a feeling between me and him that we can't ever do anything with. It's like a seed that we won't ever be able to let blossom.
I snort at myself. Look at me, getting all poetic with some damned nature analogy. Too bad I'm not at the Waxing Moon Festival after all.
"Bowling was fun, at least," Lukas says. He can sense that we're both ready to change gears completely, I can tell. "Matt needs to give himself more credit for his skill."
"Matt can have a lot of fun when he doesn't put his mind otherwise." I smirk when I say it. As much as he's been driving me up the wall this weekend, I still love the guy.
Lukas laughs. "Hey, I guess the desire to not lose to a group of strangers was stronger than the desire to remind us all how he wasn't at the Waxing Moon Festival."
There's a rush of sound from down the hallway, indistinct. A crowd of people approaches the lobby, very energetic. There's a marked mix of younger guys around Lukas' age and folks around my own, of all different species, and yet despite that, the whole gang seems very uniform and homogeneous. Even from across the lobby, they exude this air of camaraderie that's tangible, and it makes me smile. It's such a positive thing to feel in a crowd, and I wish that Matthias had been able to recognize that.
I look down at my watch. It's actually over an hour after midnight. I try to figure out where this group has just come from, and I realize that this is probably the dance I heard about yesterday just getting out. "I'm surprised you didn't go to that," I say to Lukas, nodding toward the crowd.
Lukas turns in his seat and sneaks a look. "Eh. I dunno," he replies. "I think after everything else, I'm better off relaxing than dancing."
"Or at least better off drinking."
"Certainly not drinking and dancing." Now Lukas' eyes have regained their youthfulness.
I think back to what Tomas had said days earlier about Jester Weekend being tantamount to a college getaway, and I start to feel my age. What business do I have being here with some spry kit like Lukas, acting like this is my party, too? If Matthias and I hadn't come, how much more fun would the fox have been able to have?
The gaggle of folks coming back from the dance pulls my attention back to them, though, and then I see it again: people my age keeping up with the youngsters without any trouble at all. Neither side seems to be bothered by it--hell, I don't think either side even notices. Here, at least for this weekend, this is just how things are, and thinking about it twice isn't an option.
"When was the last time you drank just to get drunk?" I ask Lukas with a grin.
"You sure you want to ask that of the guy who's just coming off of a breakup?" In the fox's grin, though, there's just enough of a hint of fang that I can spot his playful intent.
I lean forward in my seat. "Fine," I say. "When was the last time you drank just for the fun of it?"
"Long enough ago that it's sounding like a good idea," the fox replies. He straightens up, too, then, and adds, "We do kinda need to make the drive back tomorrow, though."
"Not until the afternoon," I point out.
"Yeah, but if you're hungover tomorrow, think about what Matthias is going to be like." Now Lukas isn't teasing me anymore. "Besides, isn't drinking for fun what we've already been doing?"
"I guess." I look down into my drink. It doesn't feel like I've had that many, really. "Eh, you're probably right. It's probably not worth it."
A pause lingers in the air. I don't look up, but I can still feel Lukas' eyes on me. To every side of us is a wall of chatter that forms the world's most effective white noise. "Are you all right?" the fox finally asks me.
I look up. "Yeah, I'm fine. Guess I just wish things had been more fun for the lot of us, though, you know?"
"Yeah, I know," Lukas says. "Do you think we should just call it a night?"
Sighing, I look down at my watch again, noting how little time has passed since I last looked down at it. I down the rest of my drink--about half of it--in a single swallow, and then set the glass back on the table. "Yeah," I say, getting to my feet. "Let's go."
Lukas leaves his drink unfinished and comes with me. I examine his step to see if the booze is affecting him at all, but I don't notice anything. We head towards the elevators, only to find that there's a huge line there, the folks from the dance all attempting to get back to their respective rooms en masse.
"Let's just take the stairs," Lukas says, breaking away from the line almost immediately. I follow, not wanting to argue, and certainly not wanting to stand around in the lobby, distracted by the scent of males who've just been physically exerting themselves.
There's an odd, eerie quiet in the stairwell. With the line at the elevator, I figure that more folks would've decided to take the stairs, but maybe the dancing has just tired them out. Lukas, too, is quiet, and he lets me go ahead of him.
We get up two flights of steps, neither one of us saying anything. Partway between the third and fourth floors, though, Lukas says, "I'm sorry that things went the way they did this weekend. I know that you only wanted to do something nice for me."
The words stop me in my tracks. I turn around and I look at Lukas, and a little part of me dies inside. He's such a sweet, sweet kid, and I did want to do something nice for him, and now, here he is, blaming himself for my own problems, which are in no way his fault.
Maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe it's the look in his eyes. Maybe it's a combination of the two. Either way, I know what I'm about to do before I even do it, and even after I tell myself, "Don't," I do it anyway.
I lean down and I kiss Lukas. Not on the cheek or on the forehead. I kiss him right on the muzzle, and as soon as I do, the young fox lets out this noise that's not quite a squeak and not quite a yip, but whatever it was going to be, it dies down with the parting of his lips as he lets me lock muzzles with him.
He starts to kiss back, and when he does, I reach down with both paws and grab hold of his ass and I heft him up closer to me. There's a growl in my throat, matched by the whimper of confusion and excitement coming from him.
The kiss itself probably only lasts for three to five seconds. When I'm done, I release my hold on him and let him sink back down onto his step. He wobbles, tail wagging for balance, and there's a goofy smile on his face that doesn't quite match the look in his eyes that says, "What the hell was that for?" I just grin and turn back around, continuing the walk upstairs.
Lukas doesn't say anything, but I can sense his giddiness as he follows up behind me. He really has actually been fantasizing about what it would be like to kiss me, just like I'd been doing with him. Honestly, I realize that I feel a little giddy, myself, like some huge weight has been taken off my shoulders. I know that it's nothing I should have done, but it feels good to have just done it.
By the time we hit the fifth floor, I know that I'm not going to be satisfied with just one secret, stolen kiss to keep with me for the rest of my life. I stop shy of the landing and I turn around again, but this time, I also stop shy of surprising Lukas with the kiss itself. This time, I look him right in the eye, and I give him zero doubt as to what it is I want and intend to do, and I give him the opportunity to voice, on the behalf of the both of us, that we shouldn't be doing this.
He doesn't. He leans in and initiates the kiss himself. Again, my paws reach down, and I squeeze his butt hard enough to make him squeak. I suck on his tongue, and now it's his turn to growl back to me. I feel one of his paws press to my chest, and then it starts to slide down my stomach. He's trying to sneak his way down to my crotch, and so I cut him off by grabbing his own package first, giving it a firm palming. Part of me just wants to hear what kind of noise he'll make. It's gorgeous.
After that quick delay, he succeeds in groping me, in turn. I'm harder than he is, but before long, that's not going to be an issue anymore for either of us. The smell and taste of fox overwhelms me, and I luxuriate in it. For right now, it's just me, Lukas, and an empty staircase. I might be one of only two wolves in the hotel right now, and beyond that, I feel like I just might be the luckiest wolf in the world.
We pull apart from each other more slowly this time. The fox's muzzle hangs open breathlessly. I can see his slender chest moving as he tries to get that breath back. At first, I don't think I have any willpower left at all, but since I'm not currently in the process of tearing off his shorts and fucking him right here in the stairwell, I must have held on to at least a tiny bit of it.
The blood rushing through my ears quiets down, allowing me to hear just how heavy Lukas' breathing is. He looks unsure, insecure, and still totally amazing. After a couple of false starts, he manages to get words out. "Um... that, er..." Okay, so they're not the most profound words. I reply with merely a smile.
"We, um..." he continues. "I mean, you and I, we..." I want to silence him with another kiss, but instead I just put my paw to his lips. He stops, and I raise my eyebrows at him. We both know what he wants to ask, and we both know what the answer is--or at least what the answer should be.
The fox takes a careful and then dredges up some courage from someplace. "Come on, let's, ah... just... come on." He reaches for my paw, and he gets hold of it, but he lets go as he steps past me rather than actually trying to drag me up the stairs.
At the next landing, he opens the door to the hallway. "Wrong floor," I say. "We're only on the fifth." I feel some pride at knowing that I've distracted him enough that he doesn't know where we are.
Lukas shakes his head, though. "I'm not on the sixth floor anymore," he says. "I got a new room this morning." He leaves unspoken the implication that things with him and Tomas have gotten to the point where he doesn't feel comfortable sharing a room with him anymore.
I could easily wave goodnight, here, and walk on up one more flight of stairs to my own floor and crawl into bed next to my sleeping mate. But then I look at Lukas, standing there, holding the door open, just looking at me. His eyes begin to look toward the stairway behind me, and before he can say anything that might convince me otherwise, I step forward to join him.
Numbers on doors pass by, and I feel like I'm in a trance as I follow that swishing tail down the hallway. I get a sense of tunnel vision that grows with each step, and it has nothing to do with the alcohol. Right now, I feel entirely too sober, altogether too cognizant of what I'm doing.
Lukas slips his key into the slot, opens the door, and steps inside. He clicks on the light, and as soon as the door shuts behind us, I slam him up against the wall, knocking the air right out of his lungs so that he has to huff in through his nostrils in order to catch his breath as my tongue once more forces its way into his slender muzzle. He strains as he whines, halfheartedly attempting to push me off of him. Even if he were serious, it's not like he'd be able to.
There's a new urgency to Lukas' pressing, then, and he reaches for a spot between my neck and shoulder. His claws are blunt, but he presses in keenly while also pulling his head back, and so I take the hint and let go. I don't back off of him, though, and my face is still right up in his, our breath washing over each other's faces. His throat bulges as he swallows. "Hey," he says, voice forced into something resembling 'level.'
"Yeah?"
And then he just looks at me for what feels like forever. I wonder if he's actually trembling or if it's just that I can't see straight. Does he even blink? I can't tell. It's like I'm looking at a portrait photo of him. Then, he leans in, just a little bit, and touches his nose to my chin. "Okay," he says with a nod.
"Okay?"
"Yeah." And that's it. No explanation whatsoever. He kisses my chin and then scoots me back a little bit. Confused, I give him the room he pushes for.
He promptly uses that room to get his paws down to my pants and my belt. I watch those paws at work, skinny fingers unthreading buttons and buckles with every bit of practice that I imagine Lukas has. The tension inside my pants is almost unbearable, and because that's the way these things always go, I know that the fox will get them open when I'm right about to let out a frustrated whimper.
Even from my angle, I can see the bulge in my pants as Lukas' paws dance over it. There's a metallic click as he flips my belt buckle over, and he pulls that strap of leather free with one smooth tug. With the top button of my pants undone, there's a noticeable sagging in the front; I'm held in check by nothing but my zipper, and that's not going to last much longer, either.
Now, Lukas' eyes are on his own paws, too. He doesn't stop and he doesn't hesitate, but he moves more slowly now. I manage not to force myself up onto tiptoe, and as my reward for my patience, I get to experience the tooth-by-tooth click-click-click of my zipper being tugged down. I'm then treated to a whiff of my own musk.
The fox's paw slips into the slim gap between my pants and my underwear, groping my full sheath. My head tilts back of its own accord, and when I look back down, Lukas is looking back up at me. I smile at him, trying but failing to make it innocent. He doesn't seem to mind.
And so here I am. My mate is one floor above us, and the rest of my pack is back at Cavalier Ridge. I should be with either one of them, but I'm alone with Lukas, behind closed doors, and his paw is down my pants.
But I don't want to be any of those other places. I don't want to have anything to do with any of that right now. I'm sick of having to do things because my family demands it of me, or because I don't want my mate to be upset, or because it's what society says I should do. Just for once, I want to do something because it's what I want to do.
Some of Lukas' fingers slip in past the waistband of my underpants, and that's when I slap both of my paws on his shoulders and push. If he wants to get at my cock that badly, he can do it right up close, like we both know we want it. His eyes widen and he yips in only the faintest of protest before dropping to his knees without question a second later. His fingers, still hooked into my boxers, tug downward, letting my sheath and my balls out into the open.
The fox's other paw grabs at my pants and tugs them down my legs as he groans, and I can feel the sound of it reverberating--his muzzle is that close to my sheath. Every beat of my heart gets my cock a little harder, a little further extended from its holder. His first paw takes hold of my sheath and starts to slide it back, exposing more and more of my actual member.
The sight of my erection sticking out in front of his face is a perverse thing of beauty. In retrospect, it's a sight that I think I've always been subconsciously capable of imagining while flirting with him, and now that I'm seeing it in the full brunt of reality, I wish that my brain were a camera. Black-furred fingers grip the base of my shaft and hold tight, and then those beautiful eyes fix back up at me.
The unstated question here, of course, is whether we're really, really ready to cross the line, but to be perfectly honest, we both crossed that line five minutes ago back in the stairwell. We can't take back the fact that we've transgressed. All we can do now is go for broke. I tell him this by rubbing the tip of my cock against his cheek and saying, "Come on, foxy. You know what to do."
He does. His eyes remain open as his lips and tongue first brush against my tip. In the span it takes me to blink and shudder with pleasure, his eyes close and they stay that way as he leans further forward, my shaft disappearing smoothly into his mouth. His muzzle is achingly warm, and part of me wants to just plunge the rest of the way into it while another part of me wants to leave my friend to his work. I'm about to opt for the former when he lets out this tiny, satisfied squeak, and then I just can't bring myself to do it.
Oh, it's not fair. It's not fair at all. Kneeling down right in front of me is the cutest fox in the entire fucking world, and I'm looking at him, right now, with his soft, tender lips wrapped around my cock. The size disparity makes him look so small, so young. It's like I could pretend that he was a virgin, and that this was his first time ever going down on another guy.
It occurs to me that I'm not sure I've ever actually had sex with someone who was a virgin. More likely, it's just that I've fantasized about taking someone's virginity often enough that I've got a solid imagination template for it.
Of course, within the next few seconds of Lukas sucking on me, I can no longer indulge the silly fantasy that he's a first-timer. The fox has had practice, and oh, fuck, it shows. His lips guard his sharp little teeth, letting that long muzzle slide back and forth, back and forth, nice and smooth and slick. But he doesn't make any uncouth, wet, slurping sounds, and he knows enough to not try to take my entire length at once, instead bobbing his head along a few inches at a time.
I reach down and cup one of my paws over one of his ears and ruffle his fur. The snort he makes causes his breath to escape his nostrils and tickle over the fur of my crotch. My shaft bends down as the fox looks up, preening thanks to my approval of his skills. As his lips curl into a semblance of a smile, I give my hips a gentle thrust forward, and I relish the quick squeak I get from him.
I'm leaking all over his tongue, and my knot is starting to swell. I begin to adjust myself, but Lukas pushes my paw away and does it himself, and he's good at that, too. His fingers close into a gentle circle, and he wrings his grip near my base every few times he ends up sliding his lips back. I can't help but wonder how many dicks he had to suck before he got so good at this.
This whole thing is so wonderful and so wrong. I want to revel in that wrongness. Here I am, engaging in blatant, wanton infidelity with a vulnerable friend of mine, and I can't lie and say that it's not hotter knowing that I shouldn't be doing it. I'm a terrible person for going through with this, and Lukas is just as guilty for that same reason. There's affection between Lukas and I, sure, and we like each other--but this is an expression of lust, plain and simple.
The raw, unrefined physical enjoyment is as shameful as it is pleasurable. It seems like it'd be only too fitting for me to embrace that shamefulness, to lower the both of us. I want to yank my dick out of Lukas' snout, and I want to look down as I squeeze my knot hard and paint that too-perfect face of his with my seed. I want that perfection to be ruined, just like the remaining shreds of my integrity and my dignity have been.
More than wanting that, though, I want to fuck him. So I tell him that. I slide my paw to the back of his head, I hold him still, and I tell him that.
He stays there with his snout enveloping me for a few seconds longer, and then he slides back. Still kneeling, he looks up at me, curls his tail back around his ankles, and says, "Okay."
I help Lukas to his feet and pull his shirt off immediately thereafter. My large paws explore his bare chest and tummy; I think of the two foxes I saw playing with each other earlier. Lukas starts getting out of his own pants, which gives me the chance to get out of my shirt.
We're both naked. I kiss him again as I drag him, physically, to the bed. He laughs as I trip him and make him fall onto his back. He bounces atop the mattress, and his cock bounces against his belly as a result. His body is like a canvas of red and white and black--so different from the body of a wolf, so much like everything I've wanted to have and knew that I couldn't. And here it is, and it's mine--he's mine, and the look in his eyes as I stare down at him confirms that for me.
Lukas rolls onto his tummy and reaches into the nightstand. He pulls out a bottle of lube. Of course he brought lube with him this weekend. Not for the first time, I chuckle, slathering a thick dollop of slickness along my shaft as the fox rolls over onto his back again. He's got the eagerness of a kit on his face and even in the way he holds his paws.
I kneel on the bed and reach between his thighs. He spreads them apart, and he coos and shuts his eyes as I rub my lubed up fingers down between his balls and tail. I start pressing in with my middle finger, and I can feel the jolt that runs up along his spine. He tenses, and I push more insistently, forcing that snug entrance of his to stretch for me so that I can get his insides nice and slick for what's to come next.
I don't ask for permission to add a second finger; I don't need to, because I can tell that Lukas has done this many, many times, and I'm certain that he'd let me know if I were going to fast. Well, maybe. If the way lust is hitting him is anything like the way it's hitting me, he might just be too worked to care. In that case, though, if he doesn't care, I'm not going to care, either.
My fingers slide out, and I run my sticky fingers against the side of his shaft before I hunker down closer to him. His eyes widen, he levels his head out, and he tries to speak without breathing properly. "I... I've been--"
I cut him off. "Shhh. Just go with it." And I spread his legs farther apart, crawl forward, and lay his shoulders back onto the pillows. Then, I grab his ankles, sling them over my shoulders, and tuck myself into position.
We haven't actually spent enough time getting ready, I know, but neither one of us is going to say anything about it. The tip of my shaft finds the spot where it needs to be, and as I start to slide my way inside of the young, beautiful fox underneath me, I silence his cry of discomfort with a hungry kiss. There's a sort of symmetry to it, my tongue probing deeper into his muzzle as my cock plunges deeper into his backside, both of which happen with a frighteningly urgent quickness.
Lukas' paws grab at the sheets, bunching them up, since he doesn't have anything else to grab hold of as I double him over and get to fucking him. I give only a few slow thrusts to get him stretched out before I begin putting my full weight behind me. As much as I want to treasure this, I know--as I'm sure Lukas does--that I'm not going to be able to hold out with all the lust and tension built up inside of me.
After some struggling, Lukas wrests his muzzle free from my liplock and starts to whine openly as I fuck him. Whoever's got the room next door has got to be able to hear us. That's kind of an ego boost. I hope it makes someone jealous.
The fox's whimpering rises and lowers in pitch. At times, it falls into an almost comical cycle with the pace of my thrusting, and at other times, it sounds like he's trying and failing to squeak out my name. He's so warm, both inside and out. He's tight because he's littler than me, and his fur feels so... so luxurious, so not like what I'm used to. It's been so long since I've been with anybody other than Matthias--since before I met Matthias--and that alone makes my blood boil, makes me feel like I used to when I was Lukas' age, when I was lucky enough to switch between the beds of so many other eager males.
I think perhaps that I've jabbed my cock into Lukas at an awkward angle, because he lets out a cry that's almost shrill, but a moment later, I feel a splash of wetness on my stomach and I know then that he just came. Following that, the spasms that come with climax catch up with him, and the mattress cover snaps free of one corner of the bed as he tugs harder at the sheets. My knot aches as the tight little ring surrounding it contracts and relaxes over and over.
While I didn't expect myself to last long at all, I'm still happily surprised at how quickly Lukas got off--at how quickly I got him off. I shut my eyes and I think about what that means, how having sex with me must have been such an overwhelming turn-on that he couldn't contain himself at all. He's my adorable friend, and it's indescribably wonderful, how it feels to get something I should have always known I wanted.
My knot, now at full size, spreads the twitching, post-orgasmic fox even more. I hammer my hips against his pert rump, looking down the length of his body to where my cock is sinking into it. Each time, I hit a little bit harder, force myself a little bit deeper, and before I'm even ready for it, I'm locked inside of him.
Now tied with him, I wrap Lukas up in my arms and fall forward. My paws lace together underneath him as my weight pins him to the bed. I stay slumped atop him as I empty myself into him. Now, it's my turn to let out youthful whimpers, relinquishing any final hold on the last bits of myself.
Minutes--or what feels like minutes, at any rate--pass with the two of us just breathing, catching our breaths, waiting to come down from the high we've brought each other to. I give in to my desire to show more affection than is prudent, kissing and licking the side of his throat, milking some happy yips from him.
We're tied, now, and for the time being, that means that Lukas is my fox. Even for just a few more minutes, I've got him, and he seems nothing but happy to have given himself willingly.
We both know it can't last, though. As soon as I've softened up enough to slip myself free of him, I do so, and then the retroactive awkwardness of the whole situation hits us both, full-force.
"I, ah... I do need to get back to Matthias tonight."
Lukas nods. "No, I know," he says. "Of course."
I sit up and look at at a random spot on the floor. I debate telling Lukas just how wonderful he felt, but I think I've already told him that, physically. He knows. He has to know.
The crooked smiles we exchange are the closest thing we'll ever have to telling each other 'thank you.' Then, before I go upstairs to return to Matt, I take what has got to be the longest shower I've ever taken in my entire life.
*
"What're you doing there, honey?"
Normally I hear when Matthias comes in from work, but I'm a little distracted. I look up and smile when I see him. He leans in over my shoulder to look at what it is I'm doing.
"You're writing something?" he asks.
I lean back so that he can see better. "Yeah. Just for my parents." It's a thank you note. It's a simple one, but I went out and got action stationery for it and everything.
Matthias looks up at the gift basket sitting on the table. My parents were tactful enough to at least wait two weeks or so after the Waxing Moon Festival to send it, whereupon Matthias and I have waited the last week without opening it, to see just where our feelings fell regarding the peace offering. When my mate sees that I've decided to accept it after all, he smiles.
It's a really nice basket, too, at that, with a fancy bottle of wine and imported foodstuffs that are actually the good stuff and not just junk with foreign names slapped on them (I checked). My folks clearly spent a pretty penny on this, which, if I still held their sincerity in question, might have hurt their cause more than it helped.
"Does this mean we're having wine with dinner tonight?" Matthias asks. As he sinks into the chair beside me, he brushes one of his feet against my ankle, and I play back.
"Maybe some cheese, too," I say, grinning as I finish scrawling out the rest of the note before stuffing it into the envelope and sealing it with a wet lick.
Matthias leans in with his elbows on the table and his chin cradled in both his paws. "Unless you'd rather just go out someplace quiet, instead, and leave the wine for another night."
I think about all the places Matthias and I might go--the simple places that, while not romantic in their own right, necessarily, still hold a special place in our hearts simply because of some of the nice dinners we've had there. After being together for as long as we have, that's quite a long list of places to consider, and that makes me feel lucky.
"I might be up for that, sure," I tell him.
"Anyplace in particular come to mind?" When he asks, he rubs his foot against mine again.
"Lots of places come to mind."
Leaning in further, Matthias plants a quick kiss on my lips. "Yes, but does anywhere strike your fancy more than the others?"
I slide the envelope off to the side, giving me room to lean back closer to him. "If you keep this up, I don't know how inclined I'm going to be to want to go anywhere."
"Is that so? That doesn't change the fact that we still need to get dinner." Despite that, Matt still gets up, steps around the table, and sits in my lap, facing forward with his paws on my shoulders.
"Are you super-hungry right this minute?" As I ask, I give my hips a gentle push upward.
Matt's eyes roll back a smidgen. "I'm probably going to be hungry before too long," he replies, nevertheless grinding down softly into my lap.
"Sounds like we should just be quick about it, then." I lap at the fur of his cheek and then nibble my way down along the length of his snout before seizing him into a kiss. The way he kisses back starts getting me hard a lot faster than I already was.
My mate's claws dig into my shoulders through my shirt, and I squeeze his hips and caress his sides as he forces the kiss even deeper. I can hear his tail whacking against the other chair behind him as he wags it, and he doesn't even seem to mind.
Our concentration is broken by the low buzzing coming from Matt's thigh, followed soon thereafter by a single beep that pierces the silence of the room. We part from the kiss, and my wolf laughs quietly as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He flips it open, reads the message, and says, "Lukas wants to know if we're cool with him coming over tonight."
"I'm fine with it if you're fine with it," I say. "Though in that case, we probably should actually go and get dinner now."
Matthias kisses me on the nose. "There's always later tonight," he says, winking at me before he begins to text a reply back to Lukas.
I'm only a little disappointed that I'm not going to be getting my rocks off on the spur of the moment, here. Mostly, I'm just happy that life seems to be settling back into something that resembles normal. In the long run, that's more important--and like Matthias says, there's always later tonight, after all.
With a click, Matt flips his phone shut, then bears his weight against my shoulders as he stands up from my lap. "Come on," he says. "I told Lukas to swing by at around eight or so, so we should get to dinner now."
As he stands there with a smile, waiting for me to go with him, I smile back. This is my mate, and I love him, and even though it'd make me feel like far too much of a sap to ever actually say it to him, I wouldn't trade him for anything in the world.