Just One Night. (A Gruffy original)
This is a one off branch of Gruffy's wonderful story Hockey Hunk, it is a commission that I paid for from the great Tiger that has both my character, Wolfie, and the character of Tate Michaels from Hockey Hunk, this chapter is in no way meant to be connected to the Hockey Hunk series, it is as I say a one off, I hope you guys like it.
A commision that I gained from the ever wonderful Gruffy.
Just One Night
Written byGruffy, commissioned by Wolfie Steel.
Tate knew that he shouldn't have been drinking, but the beer and scotch had offered just enough distraction that the pain had dulled just a little...making it better than the pills he got. Maybe just a little bit better. At least it was cheap. Everything was cheap in that seedy place. He was pretty sure it wasn't even licensed. Being the nearest drinking hole to his house didn't really make him like the neighborhood any more than before, but at least the beer was cheap. He'd been doing this a few times now, anyway, ever since...ever since that wretched day that happened a week ago.
It made it easier to forget that he could've ever been that stupid.
Oh Cobb...how the hell did you have such a power over your fellow men? It felt ridiculous. He shouldn't be able to do that, but there you go, making the fox drown his sorrows on a semi-regular basis now.
"Evenin'."
The fox's ears flicked briefly as he turned to face the rumbling voice. A wolf was sitting on the next bar stool, a bit older than him, he thought, seemingly relaxed, smiling a little.
"Yeah," Tate muttered.
"You fancy another one, mate?" the wolf pointed at Tate's empty snifter.
The fox snorted. He'd never heard anyone ever offering anyone anything in this place...it'd come with a price...and he wasn't sure just what such a wolf might have in mind. He didn't look like a drug dealer or a mugger, though, at least not in any way he'd ever seen on TV. He was kinda glad he didn't have any real life experience so far. As far as he knew.
"I really shouldn't be drinking," Tate muttered, wryly recalling his roommate's words.
"A little tipple never hurt no one," the wolf grinned as he took a sip from his own iced liquor. He got a kind of a funny accent, Tate thought, drunk or not.
"And you buying?" the fox asked.
"You look like ye need some," the wolf replied in a calm voice," just helping out a mate."
"As long as you don't plan to get me drunk and steal my wallet," the fox said, patting his pants pocket, "because that'd be kinda pointless with what I've got in there."
The wolf winked.
"Other reasons exist for trying to get into your pants, mate."
Tate snorted. That sounded so corny...nobody had ever said anything like that to him, anyway. He probably misunderstood, too. Nobody in their right mind would try to hit on a guy on a place like that, let alone someone who was a slinky fox who walked with a crutch.
"Good one," he chuckled, toasting with his empty glass. "Fucking great."
The wolf snapped his fingers and pointed at the bartender and the fox's glass.
"Now you definitely need another drink, how else can you toast me?" the wolf grinned.
"Alright then," Tate relented.
"Name's Steele, by the way," the wolf extended a paw.
Tate snuffled, but accepted, and gripped, firmly, like men ought to do, like pa always said.
"Tate."
"Nice meetin' ya Tate!"
"You really aren't from around here," the fox shook his head as the accent seemed to become even thicker.
"Nay," the wolf grinned, "but I'm here now."
"Well if you're a tourist, this gotta be an extreme holiday packet," Tate mused.
The wolf laughed, deep and bellowing, almost, and slapped the bar counter with his paw.
"You're a funny lad!"
"Guess you're just funny in the head, then."
"Maybe, eheheh, maybe!" the wolf wagged his tail.
*
Tate's head was reeling a little by the time he stepped out of the bar, supported on one side by his crutch, and by the wolf's arm on the other.
"Easy there, mate..."
"I...I may've...drank a bit too much," the fox mumbled.
"Here here," Steele patted the fox's back gently, "yer doing just fine, mate."
At least Tate felt pleasantly buzzed and not ready to pass out or throw up all over the pavement, the fox thought dully, as they took a few steps down the road.
"Where're ye heading?"
"Home," Tate muttered, though he realized it probably wasn't quite the right direction.
"Ye sure ye'll be alright?"
Tate flicked his ears.
"Never had trouble before," he mumbled, "...though my roomie's gonna be mad I think..."
Boy, could Marker disapprove!
"Maybe you need to take a quick kip eh?" the wolf smiled. "I live really nearby, you can get a nap on my couch to cool off and then ye can go back to ye roommate all chipper!"
Tate chuckled hollowly.
"You asking me to your place?" he breathed.
The wolf simply smiled.
"I'll make ye some tea."
*
The couch was nice enough, Tate thought, as he almost nodded off, feeling warm and dozing and definitely drunk.
"Here ye go, mate!" the wolf's by now familiar voice rumbled as a warm mug was thrust upon his paw.
"Thanks."
He realized that the wolf seated himself down next to him, close enough to make the fox's tail bristle gently. Just old instinct, nothing alarming.
"It's just regular stuff, heheh."
"I don't know much about tea," Tate mumbled, but took an obedient, hot sip, "but this is okay."
"Okay's just dandy," the wolf murmured.
"Thanks."
He sipped some more tea. He didn't tell the wolf to stop when he began to stroke the fox's thigh, slowly.
"Think ye could use some other kind of warmth too...if ye don't mind me sayin'."
Tate chuckled.
"So you do want to get in my pants..." the fox chuckled.
"A wolf can hope," the stroking didn't stop.
It did feel good. It was very relaxing, even if the touch was going close to his stump. At least the wolf wasn't going that far. He was only going for his fly.
"Uhh..."
"Just lemme..."
"Sure," Tate chuckled, feeling a bit giddy, but really beyond complaints. If the wolf wanted to have sex, fine. Why not. Maybe it'd be better than booze. Easier to forget.
The wolf soon had his fly open, and put a paw in, to pull him out. Tate rumbled and thrust his hips into the wolf's considerate, warm grim, pulsing and hard. The wolf smiled and kissed him, while giving him a few tugs.
"Lovely," the wolf murmured.
Tate closed his eyes, deciding to just let go, let the wolf have his way with him. Feeling the leathery pads rubbing over him was already pleasurable, especially when they slid down towards his knot. He pulsed a few times in the grip, bucked his hips, and moaned, eyes tightly shut. He moaned when the wolf squeezed down on his bulb.
He felt the wolf's breath against his belly before anything else, even when the slippery tongue began to slather its way around his tip. He was leaking, and he bucked, up, and suddenly he popped between warmly suckling lips.
"Ahhh..."
"Hmmrmrmrm..."
The wolf's murmurings felt lovely, strong vibrations that were simply sublime. Tate threw his head back and put a paw over the top of the wolf's head, fingers clenching on the shaggy furs. The warm muzzle slipped lower, and he was being suckled slowly, gently, somehow unhurriedly, which made it feel extra special. And it'd really been such a long time...and nobody had thought about taking it easy, back then.
The wolf's paws were everywhere, rubbing his belly and his thighs and his balls, touching him intimately while his muzzle bobbed up and down, keeping him well-stroked and wet.
"Harrmphph..."
The wolf might've been taking his time, but he was also on a mission, too, taking the fox towards the edge of an orgasm and back several times, playing him gently and carefully but with determination, gauging his responses and keeping little breaks of kissing in between, before he went back to nursing the fox, to pleasure him properly, and to continue until there was a warm, passionate throb in his belly.
"Hmmm....hmmmph..."
"HMMMMM..."
He couldn't help it, not with the fingers squeezing on his knot again...he twitched and spurted, and the wolf swallowed every drop and kept suckling and licking until Tate was almost hypersensitive.
He slipped from the wolf's muzzle with a wet plop, and finally met his eyes...the wolf's seemed to be shining, as he licked his lips.
"You do a lot," the wolf grinned. "I like that."
"Heh," the fox murmured, now feeling very mellow and definitely sated.
The wolf kept smiling and put his arm around the fox and gave him a bit of a sideways hug.
"No problem, mate," the wolf smiled, "really seemed you needed that."
"Yeah."
The wolf gave a peck to the fox's muzzle, followed by a small lick.
"Yer a sweet lad."
For a small moment, Tate thought, perhaps he even felt like that, now.