Romance Novels
_Toonces, the Driving Cat, the Cat Who Could Drive a Car
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A long and lithe ferret laid on a plush bed, sprawled out as if trying to cool himself, his body curving and curling in all those elegant ways only ferrets seems to be capable of. His form, lying elegantly twisted as if he was blown glass, was a stark contrast to the fox lying next to him, body simply bent at the waist, leaning back against the headboard, the most comfortable position for reading his book. The two were kept in constant communion through the ferret's paw, which tickled, twinged, and teased the soft tummy with an almost idle ease. it was almost like a kind of morse code, as if just the method and pattern of the ferret's pawing conveyed anything and everything he had to say. The fox's lush, fluffy tail wagged to his side like it was where all the little electrical pulses from the ferret's secret love notes left the fox's body.
He stared with aching longing at the fox, a longing that didn't seem justified considering they shared a bed, and yet the ferret couldn't shake it. Just to look up into the fox's face, the serene smile on his lips as he read his Harlequin Paperback, the fox almost seemed a mystery. Like there was a placid beauty inside him the ferret could only ever reach for, could feel when the fox shook under his touches, or hear in the low moans of approval when their arms wrapped around each other, yet could never truly know. He sighed and moved in closer pressing their slender bodies together, his arm wrapping the calm red fox into an embrace.
He sighed. It didn't mean anything. It wasn't a sign of sadness, a sigh of regret. He was tired. Still, the sigh drew a red paw to his ears to comfort him, the fox holding the book open with his spare paw now. The ferret stretched himself, from his neck down to his toes, and let himself melt into the fox's fur. He stared up now at the book's cover. A shirtless, buff wolf stood on top of a mountain, a thin young fox in his arms, nearly fainting as being overcome with passion. It was a curious little picture. The way the wolf held the fox in one arm, the other wiping the sweat away from his forehead, obviously worn out from fighting off their demons or some other nonsense. The thing that struck him most about the book, however, was its thickness. It seemed to him pretty much off all of the book could have been summed up in the cover.
"Why are romance novels always so... thick?" the ferret asked, scooching upwards to peek at the pages, moving his paw to the slight, white chest. The fox put the book down and took off his reading glasses.
"Oh, I don't know... why do you ask?" the fox asked without a hint of resentment about his choice of rading material being questioned. He turned over onto his side, faced his loving ferret, and pulled him close. Their noses touched, and a wandering tongue lapped at the ferret's nose as if it were only natural to do so, like that was the next note in this little piece of music.
"It just seems, like... I dunno... I always thought romance was so much simpler than that."
"You think so?" The fox questioned.
"Yeah, I mean..." the ferret hadn't quite expected to have his theory put to the test, hadn't exactly worked out his arguments. But it's hard to feel too unsure when you're in your lover's arms, so he felt himself through his mind, picking at what exactly he meant. "The stuff, like... going to work, driving home, getting food, paying bills, dealing with parents... that would be the bulk of our romance novel, wouldn't it?"
The fox chuckled and pecked the ferret's cheek. He turned his lover onto his back so he could run a paw over his tummy, squeezing and teasing the little spots he'd come to learn were the ferret's favorites. "Not a very interesting novel, I'm gonna have to say." The ferret didn't answer immediately, his eyes were shut tight and a warm sensation was creeping over him, familiar in feeling now but it only got stronger as their months together got on.
"Yeah, but, I always thought... the actual romance... that's..." the ferret was caught on the word, and the fox's slow wrapping him up didn't help. He was grinning like a madman, the fox now over top of him, his paws caressing his sides, drawing over his stomach and chest, tickling him so carefully and preciously.
"I think I know what you mean," the fox admitted, his voice hushed as if the room weren't empty. "The problem," he continued, "is that paper's not strong enough to hold something like this." The fox proved his point by locking their lips, pressing his muzzle into the ferret's so tenderly, gently, like he was trying to melt those lips. The ferret pulled him close, squeezed him tight, brought their bodies as close together as their tongues. They basked in each other's warmth, each other's softness, tried desperately to connect every inch of their bodies from lips to toes.
Their tails even mingled together, the fluffy red tail swishing against the shorter brown one and against the ferret's side, the tickle of the light touch making him chuckle into the fox's lips. The ferret grabbed the tail and held it close to him, its softness so comforting, carrying with it the hint of a fragrance of something like talcum powder or whatever the fox must use to keep it so full, lush, soft, and begging to be snuggled. The tail's tip caressed the ferret's cheeksas their kiss finally broke off, a moan of escaping the ferret's free throat.
The fox turned the ferret over onto his side and laid behind him, their bodies curving together, white stomach against bown back, and a white-tipped tail wrapped around them tight in the ferret's grasp. He lavished that tail as a paw squeezed him tummy, treating it to an indulgence of every desire those paws had learned of. It was a tender touch, as if the fox wasn't eager, or bored, or anything more that... priviledged. The fox felt priviledged, lucky, to have such a wonderful little ferret with such a wonderful little body that the fox could squeeze, pat, kiss, and lick until he didn't have the energy to do any more. But passion has a way of renewing itself, powering itself, and as the two laid there together they were hit with the feeling that this was a moment that could last for pages, chapters, books, or any other measurement that would be ultimately unable to contain the breadth of their love.