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Summer wasted no time in announcing it had finally come. A heat wave with highs well into the nineties had crept over the entire Northeast a week ago, and no forecast predicted a retreat in the coming week. Yazzie was new to the state, but not new to weather like this. He'd moved from western New York less than six month ago, so he knew a thing or two about harsh weather regardless of the season. Although as a kit fox -- a desert creature -- and growing up in the American southwest, he much rather preferred a nice dry heat to the sweltering humidity of a New England summer.

The secondhand air conditioner in his fifth floor apartment could not compete with the heat, especially with the drafty, ill-fitting windows letting all the mechanically cooled and dried air out, so Yazzie had decided to head to a nearby nature trail that wound its way around Laurel Marsh. Besides, it was so much nicer being outside than sitting around his apartment sweating in his underwear.

With all the windy rivers and streams that cut thought the city there were actually more than a few trails to choose from, but Yazzie had picked Laurel Marsh. The name is a misnomer except for in the spring when heavy rain and snow melt made it a true marshland, but now, in the height of Summer it was just a narrow river that cut a deep trench in the silty soil. Still, the water winding its way through the open grassland seemed to cool the surrounding air, and he could find some solace walking slowly in the many shaded sections of the trail.

Since he'd moved here, Yazzie hadn't been able to make many friends. Sure, he had acquaintances at work, but his interactions with them didn't delve farther than the "coworker" status. A couple of happy hours and lunch outtings was the most he got invited to, and whenever he tired to set something up everyone seemed to be busy. Yazzie had never been very good at making friends, but he had a good set of close ones in New York State. Over the past six months he had many regrets for leaving them for a job that turned out to be less of the great opportunity it seemed at first. At least he had quit smoking, which seemed only appropriate since he had quit the job that had driven him to start smoking.

Usually the four-mile-loop trail had plenty of furs walking its path, but the unrelenting heat seemed to keep them all inside. The parking lot had been empty when he arrived, and he had yet to see a single person after almost two miles. At least he didn't have to feel semiconscious about being shirtless and showing the world his pudginess. Believing himself to be in solitude among the happily chittering cicadas, it startled him ever so slightly when he heard the sudden playful shouts and splashings of at least one fur in the river.

The trail cut close to the river for most of the path, so it was no wonder a fur would take a dip, especially on a day like today. As the trail curved back towards the river Yazzie was able to see who was causing the commotion. Two hundred feet or so downriver two teenage boys were splashing about and goofing off where a wooden walkway had been built going to the river, almost like a dock but not quite. Yazzie stopped just before stepping onto a wooden walkway the crossed over the marshiest of sections, although right now it was dry enough to crack the soil.

Yazzie could see that the taller of the two was obvious a stag--a literal young buck--but he couldn't place the other one. He had shinny dark black fur, whatever he was. It was hard to tell their age as well. Surely not in their twenties, but maybe as young as sixteen? He was almost thirty and thinking back to when he was that age seemed almost unimaginable.

Realizing he was gawking, the dusty gray fox decided to continue on his walk, however he slowed his pace and tried his best to look nonchalant. He was doing his best not to be creepy, but deep down he knew he was. These boys were at least a decade younger than him and likely weren't interesting in the same sex the same way he was. And if one even happened to be, he wouldn't be interested in a relatively old man whose stomach wasn't as flat as it had once been.

The two teenagers didn't notice Yazzie until he was less than 50 feet from them. At first they calmed their playfulness--suddenly aware of an audience and needing to act as teenage boys are expected to act. The stag played it cool, leaning up to the bank on the opposite side of the river, but the black furred guy--Yazzie could tell he was a mink now--splashed at the deer. The deer dunked the mink's head underwater and the two were back to playing.

When the mink popped his head back up he shouted to Yazzie, now only a dozen or so feet away, "Walking in this weather? You must be insane!"

"My AC's a piece of shit," Yazzie began, uncharacteristically sounding confident in his words toward a total stranger. "I seriously think it's just pumping in hotter air."

That made the mink chuckle before he dove back into the water. Yazzie couldn't help put admire his youthful good looks. He had one of those completely average faces. Yazzie had proofread his sister's psychology bachelor's thesis titled "The Attractiveness of Average Faces" multiple times, and ever since he had a conscious awareness of the underlying principle.

The only deviating factor was all his piercings. And he did have a lot of piercings. Yazzie noticed the lip ring and chin stud first, then the two or three barbells on the outer part of his eyebrows and one on the inner part of his right eyebrow. Then the plugs and many other barbells, studs, and rings in his ears. Yazzie was happy to see and industrial piercing through only his right ear, until he realized the mink had no obvious preference for symmetry for his piercings, but, hey, it was better than nothing.

He also had an extremely well done and detailed rose vine tattooed on his right chest that spilled over his shoulder and bicep. The tattoo almost disappeared into his shinny dark fur, but the sparkly of his nipple piercings had brought Yazzie's eyes to it.

As Yazzie continued to walk along the river, the deer called out in a voice deep enough to keep up with his wide muscular shoulders and chest, "Hey, where're ya headed? Don't'cha want to take a dip?"

"Man, I'd love to," Yazzie said--and he really and truely did want to--but I didn't bring a swimsuit."

"Pfffft," the pierced mink said as streams of water rushed down his face, "we didn't bring any trunks, either."

He stood up on the bank so the water was below his waist, "See?"

The mink was wearing a pair of polyester or spandex briefs, the kind Yazzie had owned back when he was running regularly. Being completely soaked the way they were, the fabric clung to every contour of the boy's nether region. Despite himself, the kit fox felt a stirring in his loins and gave a little prayer that he'd stay in his sheath.

"Heller would have been butt-ass naked if I hadn't convinced him otherwise. There's families that walk on by here, you know," the deer chimed in.

"Come on and join us. You know you want to."

"Yea, I do," and Yazzie did, "but...i don't know."

Heller splashed an armful of water over the bank, catching Yazzie's khaki shorts on the left side before he could jump away.

"Now you have to join us," the deer laughed.

"You make a convincing case," Yazzie said as he unbuckled his belt. He kicked off his shoes and dropped his shorts in a fluid motion, but had to slow down to peel off his socks. Jumping into the cool river water in his boxers was instantly invigorating for his body and mind. Yes, the water instantly cooled down the kit fox after he'd been seemingly steamed half to death by the New England summer, but he was more interested in being sociable. It had been so long since he had any unbridled furry interactions and these two were actually inviting him into their fun.

But they're just boys, Yazzie's anxiety was saying as he dove under the water.

Once his head was out of the water Yazzie tried to strike up a conversation with the deer, who was still just playing it cool on the bank, "So what brings you two out here on a day like today? Most furs prefer to just stay sheltered under the AC when the weather takes a turn like this."

"Sometimes you just gotta get out of the house, ya'know," he said, smirking a little as he did so. "I'm Arti, by the way." He jutted his chin over to the mink, "And that there's Heller."

"You two live around here?"

"Yup," Arti said as he pushed himself off the bank to float lazily closer to his mink friend, "We go to the community college. Got a house nearby."

"Speaking of which," Heller interjected. "We got his kickass party going down tonight. We've got whiskey, beer, vodka, you name it." He was obviously excited for his party. "And now I'm inviting you!"

Yazzie cut his embarrassment with a laugh, "I don't know. I'm a little old for a college party."

"Nonsense. Hey, let's do backflips off this ledge here! C'mon!" Heller's change-of-subject almost caused the fox whiplash.

Despite himself, Yazzie couldn't help but check out both furs' asses. The mink had this tight muscled runners-butt barely concealed under his soaked-fur tail, but the deer won out with his heavy-muscled bum snug under his pair of dark gray boxer-briefs.

Yazzie averted his gaze before either could catch him leering and, more importantly, before his body got too excited.

He climbed out with them and stood with his footpaws on the edge of the embankment. Heller and Arti bent their knees and made like they were about to flip over backwards into the river, so Yazzie did likewise. At the last moment Heller wrapped his arms around the deer and both went crashing into the water screaming in jubilee. Not to be left out, Yazzie went for the backflip and landed in the water on his back.

After the excitement between the two boys settle down, Heller approach Yazzie, "So, you're coming to the party, right?"

Yazzie was still unsure, but he didn't let the insecurity betray his voice, "Yea, sure. Definitely." If he decided later not to go it wasn't like they'd ever likely see him again, anyway.

"Awesome," Arti exclaimed as he swam over to the two.

"Hey, listen," Heller all of a sudden became serious. "Can you do us a huge favor? I mean, we've already got the cans, and the whiskey, and some vodka, but could you help us pickup the keg? I mean, c'mon, it's not really a party without a keg."

Yazzie's heart sank. All they wanted him for was to buy them booze. "I don't think so. I'm not about to buy a keg for a bunch of underaged college kids. I could get into serious shit for that, and I don't even know you."

"'Underaged' pffft," Heller spit. "I'm almost nineteen. In every other country that ever existed I'd be able to walk down the street drinking a handle of JD, but here? Nope. Underaged. Whatever. And it's not like we don't have enough booze already. I just thought you'd be able to help us out. We'll pay for it, no problem."

Yazzie made sure not to twitch as Heller laid his hand on his shoulder, "And I'd be more than willing to treat a beautiful guy like you to a proper good time for his effort."

Yazzie didn't know why he did it. Maybe it was his undeniable physical attraction to the cute young fur--both of them, actually; he hadn't had sex in over a year and the need was playing games with his mind. Or it might have been his half-year of loneliness making him willing to get into serious shit just for someone to talk to outside of work.

No matter the reason, the fox said, "Yeah, sure. No problem"

###

After their little foray in the river, Yazzie had offer to give Heller and Arti a ride back to their house so he'd at least know where to deliver the keg. The stag and mink had trusted the fox enough to give him the money for the keg shortly after leaving the water, which almost had been an embarrassing escapade in and of itself. As Yazzie was pulling himself out of the water, his boxers--stretched out and weighed down from the water--slipped down to his knees in front of the mink. Yazzie of course quickly hiked them back up, but Heller saw his package anyway.

"Giving me a little sneak peak for tonight, 'eh? Well, alright, fair's fair," the slender young mink said before pulling down the front of his athletic briefs and popping out his plump sheathed package to the kit fox.

And that moment sealed the deal for Yazzie. He wasn't about to back out now.

His heart was pounding as he drove up to the house, keg in tow. He was nervous; he was anxious; he was excited. He was going to get laid.

Arti had told Yazzie to show up with the keg at 10:30, which initially gave the fox some pause. Yazzie had gotten used to waking up early for work and for at least the past five years "10:30" meant it was time to start thinking about heading to bed, even on the weekends.

The party wasn't supposed to start until 11:00, but more than a few cars had already been parked all over the street surrounding the house. Music with heavy electronic influences blasted out of the house, the bass on the stereo system obviously cranked up to its limit.

Yazzie had the keg strapped to a hand truck so it was easy enough to haul it from the car. As soon as he broke through the door a horse and chipmuck relieved him of it with a few excited words and gestures and were at work setting it up without a moment's hesitation.

The house was this beautiful two-story colonial. The outside was a deep dark red with white trim, and the inside was bright white with dark stained oak floors and trim. Every appliance and fixture in the house was under two-years old (or at the very least meticulously cleaned and maintained), and the central air was state-of-the-art, keeping the house full of youths crisp and dry despite the ever present forces of nature beyond the walls. Yazzie was years away from being able to even afford renting a place like this, yet these drunken community college kids were content to live here and treat the old place like a derelict frat house.

As he looked around the house he couldn't help but notice he was the oldest fur there by more than a couple of years. Some of these kids were just that: kids. Undeniably younger than eighteen. Yazzie would have bet good money that were was not a single fur besides himself that was older than twenty-one, and would have bet all the meager cash in his wallet that no one was older than nineteen.

The kit fox knew he shouldn't be here. He definitely shouldn't have bought that stupid keg of Rolling Rock, either. If someone bothered to trace the alcohol back to him he would be in some serious shit, all to win the favor of some college kid by getting a houseful of minors trashed.

He was just about to turn tail, count his losses, and head back to his apartment when he spotted Heller stumbling down the stairs. The pierced and tattooed mink spotted him as well and shuffled down to the ground floor even faster.

"You made it!" Heller came bounding up to Yazzie, bumping elbows with a gazelle, causing her to splash the contents of her red Solo cup onto her crocodile friend. Heller actually seemed surprised to see that the kit fox had decided to show up.

"Hell yea, why wouldn't I?" Yazzie said with more enthusiast than the situation required. His second guessing all but washed away when he set eyes upon the young dark coated mink. Sure, he looked ridiculous in his bright colored polo shirt with the popped collar and all white Yankees cap with the stupid round sticker still on it, but there was no denying the kid was incredibly cute.

"Dude, I need to thank you again for bringing the keg, man," the mink said, placing a paw on the fox's shoulder and leaning in so Yazzie could smell the whiskey on him. "This party is going to be kickin'."

"Honestly, I wasn't expecting this many furs to still be around. It being summer and all," Yazzie said over the thumping of the stereo. The music was quieter in the back of the house where they were, but still required raised voices to carry on a conversation.

"Mostly art and com majors here," he said with a flourish of his paw around the room to include everyone. "We stick around for summer. Sure, we get some credits over with, but the parties, man. The summer parties are bar none."

"So, are you an art or com major?"

Heller took a step back and lifted up his shirt to showcase the intricately detailed rose vine on his chest, ribs, are bicep. In the dim light of the house it was more visible than at the marsh were the beating sun reflected too much off the dark fur.

"I designed this," Heller said, beaming with pride. "Went down to Brooklyn and had this artist do the whole thing in one sitting. It was sick!"

"Art major, then."

"Fuck yea, bro. I'm going to get my AA in art, then a BA in business and open my own tattoo and piercing parlor downtown. There's no decent parlor around here and there needs to be."

"Seems like you've got yourself a plan, then" Yazzie said. "I just hope you don't dig yourself into a blackhole of debt like I did getting through college."

Heller laughed louder than was called for, "Fuck that. I'm already filthy rich. My parents own like half the houses in the neighborhood, so I'm all set. They even own this place, so I don't even have to worry about paying rent!"

The back of the fox's next cringed when he heard Heller equate his parent's money as his own. Money was always a touchy subject with Yazzie, and he had been finding it harder and harder to explain his logic for not spending money he did not have when half the people he talked to were either riddled with debt or indebted to their parents' gratitude. It did, however, make him feel better about a bunch of college kids renting a house like this.

Before Yazzie could respond, Heller thumped him in the chest and pointed into the adjacent room, "Arti's little girlfriend finally showed up! Let me introduce you!"

Yazzie allowed himself to be dragged into the next room where the stag from the river stood with his arm wrapped possessively around a short young river otter. For some reason Arti was still as shirtless as he had been swimming, but had the decent sense to put on some shorts. On the other side of the otter was a tigress who looked like she felt as out of place as Yazzie, but it wasn't because of her age.

"So your brother finally dropped you off, eh, Nukka?" Heller laughed as he spoke to the otter.

"According to your invitation the party hasn't even begun yet," she fired back, squeezing into the deer's muscular bare chest fur.

"Yea, yea," the mink said, not caring if he lost the little word battle. "Hey, this is Yazzie. We met him out in the marsh this morning. He's the hero of the party: he brought the keg!"

"Is that right?" Nukka said. "Well, I hope you give him a proper hero's reward."

"Oh I will, I will," Heller said with a sly smile as he gave the fox's butt a hefty squeeze. Yazzie did his best not to flinch at the sudden intimate contact, but he could do nothing to slow his heart or cool the stirring's in his loins.

"And who might this be?" the mink asked of the tigress to Arti. "You two planning a threesome?"

"Not likely with Nukka's brother lurking around," Arti said in his deep voice.

It was the tigress's turn to speak up, "Just who the fuck do you think you--"

"Calm yo tits, Tu'Chi, you know I was only kidding."

She "hmfpt" a response and crossed her arms as Arti began to nibble at Nukka's ear and neck as she giggled like...well, like a teenage girl.

"How about we get you a drink and a proper 'thank you'?" the mink smiled a slightly intoxicated smirk. "I've got JD and some Diet in my room upstairs. C'mon."

Heller lead the way upstairs, his bushy tail whipping around excitedly with every step. Yazzie followed close behind, his own tail betraying how much his eagerness was overshadowing his misgivings.

Heller's room was pretty much exactly as Yazzie had expected it would look. Both the stereotypically classic college posters, and posters of bands Yazzie had never even heard of covered most of the dark blue walls. An Ikea glass desk covered in textbooks, a Walmart bookshelf sagging under the weight of a few paperbacks, and an unmade queen sized bed with unwashed sheets filled up the cramped room.

Yazzie didn't waste too much time looking around the room since the mink was already sitting on the edge of his bed, stripping of his shirt. Yazzie kicked the door shut as he unbuttoned his own shirt. As he was unfastening his top button he felt Heller pawing at his crotch. Looking down he saw he was unbuckling his belt and shorts.

"Somebody's already hard and rearing to go!" he said. "Maybe we don't need whiskey to loosen things up."

To that, Yazzie responded, "And just how hard are you right now?"

Yazzie's shorts fell to the floor as he cupped the mink's crotch. It was only half stiff, if that, which was more than a little bit of a disappointment for the fox. He let the thought out of his mind as he pulled his boxers to the ground and started the process of removing the mink's pants. Heller was not wearing any underwear to strip off.

By the time Heller was naked his half-chubby was at full salute. True to the rest of his body, his jet black member was adorned with a Prince Albert piercing, a ladder of six or seven barbells up the soft underside of his shaft, and four or five rings pierced through the side of his scrotum. Yazzie pushed on his chest and the mink let himself fall flat on his back. Yazzie crawled up on him, making sure to rub the spongy underside of his penis against the young mink's studded ladder as he did so.

There was a squeeze bottle of lube on the nightstand next to Heller's head. Yazzie leaned into the mink, bitting and sucking at his neck enthusiastically as he grabbed the bottle. Sitting back up straight with his legs bent and ass on Heller's thighs, Yazzie squeezed a glob of lube onto the head of the mink's upstretched and eager young penis. It throbbed in anticipation.

Yazzie sat up, lifted his tail, and sat back down on Heller's thick cock. The large squeeze of lube made it slide right in, warm and filling. Yazzie got to work, using his hips to rock back and forth, thrusting the member deep inside him to massage his insides. Every motion elicited a breathy squeal from the drunk boy. Yazzie's own cock was throbbing, dripping steady streams of silky pre-cum to glisten in the jet black fur under the mink's bellybutton.

Heller was soon scratching deep, primal gashes into Yazzie's back as his pleasure rose. Yazzie could tell he was about to cum since his breathing shortened to quick breathy gasps. Yazzie up his pace to build up more momentum. This was not about tender loving, this was about raw primordial pleasure.

When Heller finallly came he did so with short teeth-clenched screams in time with each warm explosion Yazzie felt deep inside his tailhole. The mink just kep going, though, filling the kit fox up with his warm seed. When he did stop, the room was eerily quiet for a moment until Heller broke the silence.

"Jesus, man," he gasped, "I brought you up here to give you a proper thank you and you gave me one of the best fucks of my life."

"Yea, I could tell you enjoyed it."

"Here, let me take care of that for you, at least," Heller said, taking Yazzie's cock in his paw.

His cock immediately tingled with electrical excitement at the touch. Heller rolled him to his back and slid himself out of the fox. The mink's seed poured onto his fur and bedsheets, but Yazzie did the best he could to clench his ass and keep it inside of him.

Heller pinned him to the bed and vigoriously stroked his cock. It was less pleasurable than slower romantic tugs he's known, but he was pent up and about to explode anyway.

"I'm gonna cum," Yazzie gave warning, "I'm gonna cum."

"Do it, big boy, cum for me."

And cum he did, all over his own pudgy chest in five hefty bursts. It seeped into his fur and poured over the side to seep into the bedsheets along with the mink's semen. Yazzie watched Heller play with the sticky white ooze that covered his fingers as he let blissful calm wash over him.

Heller wiped his paw on a clean patch of Yazzie's fur, "You can clean up in the shower. I've got to go make an appearance at my party."

And with that the mink slipped on his shorts, donned his popped-collared polo, and left the room.

In the shower the blissful calm turned to regret as the intoxication of lust vanished and left him woefully sober. He had let himself be used. He had committed a felony all to be butt-fucked by a boy and given a pathetic "thank you" hand job. He might as well just head back to his sweltering apartment and call it a night.

After drying off and dressing the kit fox grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels from Heller's desk and bounded downstairs. As he got to the open room with all the partygoers Yazzie spotted the black mink. He was in a corner making out with a blue heron girl who couldn't have been a day over sixteen; he had one paw down the backside of her pants and kept going down to bury his face in her tits. He never showed anywhere near this amount of interest in Yazzie, even when he was full on fucking him.

Great, Yazzie thought, so I really did get all used up by this guy. He isn't even gay, is he? Just a common whore. Just like me.

"Well, you sure don't look like you're having such a great time," Yazzie heard someone say to his left. When he looked there was a cute, lanky river otter who was undoubtedly the second oldest fur at this party, but was still a few years younger than Yazzie, maybe twenty-five, twenty-six. The otter was well dressed in some khaki shorts that went to just below his knees; his long torso was covered up by a red short-sleeved collared shirt, unbuttoned to reveal a skin tight designer T.

"Nope," was all of a reply Yazzie could muster up.

"I take it Heller seduced you into doing him a favor?"

Yazzie grunted a response. He didn't want to waste time in this small talk. Chatting with a cute guy had gotten him into this situation in the first place and he didn't want to make the same mistakes twice in one night. All he wanted to do was chug mouthful or two of whiskey and fall asleep on his futon.

"Heller's one hot guy, and he knows it," the otter continued. "He even got me into bed with him the first time I met him. Took me a couple of tumbles before I realized he was just using me to get him beer and cigarettes. I've seen him take many a fur--guy and girl--up to his room for solely that purpose; I sure hope you used a condom."

Fuck, Yazzie groaned to himself. He had gone bareback and still had a sizable wad of his cum up his ass. Why was this guy still chatting him up even after he knew very well that Yazzie had just made a regrettable life choice and got laid by that creep Heller.

"Ugh," the kit fox groaned, "I should leave. Thanks for...I don't know."

"Forget about Heller, I can tell you're better than that so just let it go," the otter's eyes stared into the foxes as he spoke and Yazzie could tell he meant it. "Hi, I'm Ujie."

"Yazzie," Yazzie shook his hand. "So what brings you here, if not to get fucked by that guy." He darked an angry thumb over his shoulder to indicate Heller.

"I drove my little sister, Nukka, here. She's dating that douchebag stag, Arti, and I just stuck around a little to make the two of them as uncomfortable as can be."

Yazzie smiled at that.

"C'mon, let's go for a walk. You look like you need it."

"A walk is what got me into this mess in the first place, but alright."

Yazzie left the bottle of JD at the door. Best not ruin this perfectly crappy night with an open container charge.

It had cooled down a little in the early night and a breeze had picked up, but the air was still thick and heavy. Overhead the stars were out, but off in the horizon storm clouds darked the sky; a bolt of lightening flashed in the distance, but was too far away to bring a rumble of thunder to them.

"I take it you just moved to the area," Ujie broke the silence that had crept between them as they slowly meandered down the street. "What brings you to central Connecticut?"

"I used to live just outside of Rochester," Yazzie explained. "I hated that job, so I looked for work elsewhere and found some in Hartford."

"Oh, really?" the river otter seemed genuinely interested. "What kind of work do you do?"

"I'm a fluids design engineer, which basically means I'm a plumber who doesn't get his paws dirty. This new job has me designing the piping for high-rise buildings. It's only been six months but I'm beginning to hate this new job as well. My last job sucked, but I was good at it. This job seems to be the opposite: it's decent enough, but I'm just so bad at it."

Yazzie didn't know why he was confiding this all to Ujie. His personal problems with his work he had kept mostly secret until now. There was just something about the otter that made him put his guard down.

"So, what do you do?" Yazzie asked.

"I'm a technical writer," he said. Before Yazzie could ask the followup question the otter continued, "Which means I take the work from more scientifically inclined minds and put it into terms someone not familiar with the work can read and understand."

"Sounds like interesting work."

"It can be." The otter slowed his pace and turned to the kit fox, "But what is really more interesting to me is what people do on their time off from work. I enjoy running, cycling, hiking, trying out new restaurants, hanging out with friends, visiting wineries, and losing myself in a good book. Now you: go!"

"Umm," Yazzie thought. What did he do all day? "I guess re-watching classic movies, spending too much time mindlessly watching cable TV, um...cooking."

"Cooking? Awesome. What do you cook?"

"I don't know. Usually I just try to recreate stuff I see on Food Network, but it never turns out as good as it looks on TV. Cooking really isn't a passion, it's...I don't know, I couldn't think of anything else that I actually do. I guess I don't do too much."

"You just need to find some furs to hang out with. It's not really about doing stuff, it's about doing stuff with friends. Here," the otter pulled out a scrap piece of paper and wrote on it, handing it to the fox. "Give me a call and we can hang out sometime."

"Yea," Yazzie said, dubiously, "I'll do that."

They walked on and continued the idle small talk, but all the while Yazzie kept thinking about the phone number in his pocket. He didn't doubt that it was real, but worried about it's intention. Ujie knew that Heller had used his good looks to take advantage of Yazzie, and it definitely wasn't a secret that the otter was cute as well, especially with how well he dressed. Was Ujie just trying to use him, as well? Maybe going for the longer con?

Yazzie shook those thoughts out of his mind as the rounded the corner. The otter was probably not even interested in the fox that way. He probably had a steady boyfriend of his own and was just naturally a nice person. Besides, who would want to be in a relationship with Yazzie? He wasn't fat fat, but had let his body get plump in the last few years. At least he wasn't saggy and had some muscle underneath all the flab, but the otter was all toned muscle, even if it wasn't a lot of it.

Yazzie's anxiety always got the best of him, but he kept it together as they made it around the block and to Yazzie's car.

"This is my car," he stated as they stopped. "Thanks for the walk and...everything."

"Don't mention it," Ujie smiled as he looked unblinkingly into Yazzie's eyes. "Just don't forget to call if you're ever bored or lonely."

"I'll definitely do that," the dusty brown fox smiled back.

On his way back to his apartment, Yazzie stopped off at a gas station and purchased a pack of full-flavor, high nicotine cigarettes and smoked one before getting to his parking lot. He lit another one and stayed in the lot leaning on the door of his car as he finished it. The cigarettes burned his lungs, but the nicotine surging through his body extinguished the sparks of his anxiety. He knew he'd soon regret starting up smoking again, but at least it wouldn't be the biggest regret of the day.

He flicked the butt into a storm drain and headed into the complex. After climbing the never-ending five flights of stairs to his apartment he immediately went for his liquor cabinet. He took a quick shot of bourbon, and poured himself another to drink slowly. A little depressant to counteract the stimulant of the cigarettes.

As he emptied his pockets and began to prepare to go to bed he found the folded up piece of paper Ujie had given him. He unfolded it and stuck it on his fridge, uncertain. He still hadn't decided if he'd call the otter or just toss out the number and do his best to forget the night altogether. Either way, the number would be there for him when he woke.