Sign Here

Story by Squirrel on SoFurry

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" ... so, he was, like, 'Sign here,' and ... so, I did."

"The UPS fur?"

"Mm," went Field, nodding, swallowing a sip of cherry 7-Up. He nodded and continued, "So, like, five minutes later, the cover to the ice machine comes undone ... and I step away from it, like, two seconds before it falls. And that thing's, like, metal."

"Honey," she whispered.

"Mm?" He took another sip of his drink. He would've preferred a bit of alcohol, but ... Aria always worried about his dependence on it. So, they were drinking soda. Sitting on the couch. And it was after 8.

"Stop," she said, whispering to his ear, "using the word 'like.' Cause, like, if you keep doing that, it's gonna, like, annoy me. Okay?" She smiled and pulled back.

The mouse giggled. Biting his lip and shrugging. "Didn't even know I was doing it."

"Well, now you do."

"The language police conscripted you, then? While I was out?"

"I've been an undercover agent for the language police," she said casually, eyes glowing, "for years. Didn't you know?"

Field giggled, the dimples showing on his furry cheeks. And he bit his lip for a moment. Before exhaling.

Aria nibbled on some cheddar cheese goldfish crackers. Field's favorite snack. They had some in a little bowl on the coffee table in front of them. In front of the couch. At her place. In the living room.

"So ... ?"

"So ... "

"So, what happened?"

"Oh, well ... yeah, the ice machine," said Field, "broke again. The cover fell off. And ... all sorts of weird things." Field worked in a restaurant. A cafeteria. 11 to 8 ... five days a week. Aria had a far better job than he, and made much more money, too, and ... Field, in the back of his mind, felt bad about that. Like ... he was less, maybe. Like, maybe, she would think he was less. He was a college drop-out. He was ...

"Field?"

"Mm?"

"You're spacing," she told him. "Again."

He smiled apologetically. A bit weakly.

"You okay?" she whispered, putting a paw on his shoulder.

"Yeah," was all he said, pausing. Staring at the cherry 7-Up. The blushing pink of it. The bubbles. The ice cubes. The condensation on the glass. "Anyway," he said, voice quieter now. "So, when I left, the car wouldn't start. Took a few tries. And ... I don't know. I just kept thinking it was cause I signed that form ... that electronic data pad thing the UPS fur shoved at me. I mean, there's, like ... oops, sorry," he said, catching his own use of the word 'like.' "I mean, there are thirty other furs working in the restaurant at the time, and ... the UPS fur couldn't find a manager to sign for the delivery, so he looked to me. And ... I signed it. And, then, after that, he squinted and peered at the pad and asked me what my name was. Made me say it aloud." A pause. A squint. "Were I the paranoid type, I might think he had an electronic recording device embedded on him ... and he was hired simply to enter the building and get my voice on record. To steal my identity, maybe, or ... "

Aria giggled. "Whatever ... "

"No, but ... " A smile spread across Field's muzzle. "Wouldn't that make a good story?"

She tilted her head and gave an acknowledging nod. "It could."

Field smiled and reached for his 7-Up glass. It was cold to the touch. And he sipped, sipped. And stopped. And put it down. Clearing his throat, and then ... looking back to her. To Aria. The rabbit. His mate.

She smiled at him.

He blushed, nodding, finishing, "But, yeah, it ... was an okay day. I kept myself ... occupied. Me and my busy mind."

"Mousey, mousey mind," she whispered teasingly.

He giggled, ears at their swivel-swivel. Whiskers at their wiggle-waggle. Tail at its motor-motor.

There was a pause. A light, airy pause. Where neither of them made a move or a sound. Just sitting there, side-by-side, and ...

... she leaned forward. Planted the kiss on his cheek. Sweet, sweet peck to the cheek. And then she pulled back.

Field blushed. His ears, they flushed. The pink of his ears getting pinker.

"So cute," she whispered.

Which only caused Field to blush more.

"You okay?" she said, still at a whisper.

He swallowed, nodding. Nibbling on some goldfish crackers. "Yeah." His voice was quiet. "Just ... you know, it's ... sometimes, it's a bit taxing."

"What is?" She tilted her head.

"My mousey mind."

"Saying you're a paw-ful?"

"I am, aren't I?" He twitched. He twitched and sipped his drink again.

"I rather like having my paws," she commented, "full of you." A giggle. "That sounded cheesy, I know, but ... a mouse should appreciate cheesy words, no?"

He couldn't help but smile. Biting his lip, shaking his head. "Mm."

"Mm," she mocked.

"Mm," he went again, turning to put his nose to hers. Twitching nose to her nose ... nose-nuzzling. And smiling.

And their noses slowly tilted, slid from each other.

Giving way to a kiss.

Slow and soft and ...

"So," Aria breathed, swallowing, the kiss broken.

"So?"

"So," she whispered, paw on his thigh. "What does it take to calm a mousey mind?"

Field giggled, looking away.

Her paws went to his chin, bringing his gaze back to her.

"Mm?" she went.

"Well ... "

"Well," she echoed. And kissed him again.

"You'd do well," Field told her, panting lightly, still blushing, "as a mockingbird."

Aria laughed a bit.

Field sipped from his drink again. It was nearly gone. And he swallowed, and ... allowed himself to be pulled down to his side. On the couch. On the cushions.

"You okay?" she asked.

"You always ask me that," he whispered.

"Cause ... I love you," was her response. "Cause I feel it needs asking. Cause, sometimes," she told him, "you don't always admit it ... when you're not okay. Sometimes, you try to keep it to yourself. And you shouldn't do that ... "

"You ask me all the time ... "

"Just like you apologize all the time."

"Do not," he whispered.

"Do ... "

" ... not."

"Well, you do," she told him.

He shook his head.

"Field, I'm not trying to argue. I'm just saying ... it shouldn't make you upset," she started.

"I just ... "

" ... when I ask if you're okay. I'm asking out of love. Cause I'm ... "

" ... keep thinking you're asking cause you think I'm helpless."

" ... worried. No, I don't think you're helpless," she said, answering him. Paw on his side. Running up and down his side.

He closed his eyes and breathed. Nodding lightly. And, after a moment of quiet, asked, "How was your work?"

"Meetings all day. Wasn't very productive."

"I'm sorry ... "

"No, don't be," she said, nuzzling up to him.

The mouse sighed and wrapped his paws around her ... and his whiskers twitched. He gave a little squeak. A little mousey chitter.

"Hmm?" went the rabbit, eyes closed.

"Mm ... well, I ... want our clothes off," he whispered. As if they might be overheard. As if, maybe, God was watching this.

She giggled.

"That's NOT why," he objected.

"It's okay ... if it is," she said, giggling.

"Darling," he said, flustered, frowning a bit ... " ... I just ... "

"I'm teasing, honey," she whispered. Nose to his again. Wriggling out of her attire. And the mouse simultaneously wriggling out of his. Slow. Sensual. Slipping out of their shirts, their ...

"I just ... love being close to you," he whispered. "You're so warm, and ... you're so ... " His words faltered at another kiss. As her legs kicked the air ... sending the remainder of her clothing sailing up and behind the couch.

"Nice," he panted.

"The kiss or the kick?"

"Well, I'm ... not gonna be picky. They were both ... "

She giggled, her foot-paws running up and down his lower legs, working his pants off.

He blushed but smiled, giggling very quietly.

Until they were both bare.

And they lay there.

And Field put an arm around her, and she put an arm around him. And they slipped their legs in and between each other. A tangle of furry limbs.

Aria breathed slowly in and out.

As did Field.

They talked, for a bit, in whispers. In quiet, delicate voices.

"I was wishing," said Field, eyes closed. "Was wishing," he repeated, "for the snow this morning ... that it would stick. That it would cover us all. Everything. And ... would trap us here."

"Yeah?"

"And we would just lay here, together, huddled, cuddled, nuzzled ... "

" ... and all those other -uzzles," she added.

He nodded dreamily. "Yeah." A breath. "A delicate November. And the world would be so fragile that, were we to leave the house, we might break it."

"Break the world?" she asked.

"With our steps. With our sounds. With ... "

"Like the world was glass?"

"Not glass," he told her. Breathing. "Ice. Snow."

She listened, thin, long rabbit ears waggling a bit.

"And," Field said, nose against the fur of her neck, "we would have to stay inside. Would have to stay still. We wouldn't be able to move from here. Wouldn't be able to part."

"What makes you think," she said, "that we can ... as it is? That we could part right now, even if we wanted to?"

"We parted this morning. We'll part tomorrow morning. Off at our works. Off at ... "

"So, let's run away," she suggested. "Let's sell our things, buy some plane tickets to the Alaskan bush ... and we'll go deep into the frontier. We'll live unhindered."

"Might be difficult," was all he said.

"Might be," she concurred.

Quiet befell them. For a moment. For several seconds.

"Our love won't be broken ... if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm not."

"But you fear losing it?"

"I fear a lot of things. I'm a mouse," he defended.

"We won't lose this. We won't part."

"Promise me ... ?"

She nodded quietly. "I do ... "

"But we can never ... "

"Field, I promise you," she whispered. "If our love is ever broken, it won't be by ordinary things. It'll have to be through other-worldly intervention. Cause I'm ... "

" ... stubborn?" he supplied, smiling.

She giggled. "Well, I was gonna say ... yeah," she said. "No, I was ... gonna say that I'm not giving up."

"I'm not," he supplied, "either. I won't ... "

"I know." Her paw ran up and down his side. Up and down ... up, up ... pause. Down.

Field sighed. Squeaked a bit. Airily, from the throat. "You know," he confided. "A month ago, I ... I didn't think I would love again. I was ... so scared, and now ... "

"It's okay ... "

" ... I'm so grateful, cause ... "

"Field, it's alright ... "

" ... I was ... no, it's not. I was torn apart, blown to bits. By all my struggles. And ... I was a mess. I was timid and ... "

" ... still are. Still timid."

"But I'm better. You make me ... " He faltered, voice catching. Getting emotional. As he was liable to do. "You make me better."

She swallowed at this, eyes watering. Her smile so wide, so unguarded, and she leaned forward to kiss his lips. Gently. Gingerly. Gracefully. And going, "And you are my glow."

He closed his eyes, paws in her fur.

"My light."

He blushed. Starting to lose himself in the depth of it all. The words. The love. The feeling.

And she kissed again.

He kissed back.

Their hearts beating in tandem.

He kissed her again. Again. Initiating the kisses this time, taking the lead (as she had been teaching him to do ... though she would always take the lead from him ... when she knew he needed for her to do so).

The rabbit, paws to the mouse's hips, sucked on his lower lip.

He panted lightly, sucking back ... trying to stick his tongue between her lips.

Tongues meeting tip-to-tip.

Their breathing, their warmth, their simmering, silky passion. Stemming like the summer's rising.

The mouse, panting, reached down to lift one of her legs. So he could get at her ... from their side-by-side position.

She helped him out.

And the mouse, at first, simply grinded, bumped ... gently against her. Hip-to-hip.

She closed her eyes, breathing faster ... feeling him all over. And reaching down a paw and feeling for his mouse-hood. She knew it was there. Knew the state it was in. Else he wouldn't be clambering to get inside her. She giggled at the thought. At his eagerness. Almost innocent, the way he wanted her. Nothing carnal about it. He just ... wanted her. And she wanted him. And wanted it, too, so ... she pointed him in the right direction, wriggling her body to give him better access.

Both furs sinking into the cushions.

Field blushing, Aria shushing him ... encouraging him ...

... as he pushed his hips forward. As he slid slowly, steadily through her. Into her. Into the silky softness. Into the heat and muscle and wetness. So that their bodies were linked. One flesh, one fur. As intimate as they could be.

Field pulled back ... pushed forward. A paw under her thigh, helping keep her leg elevated. "Should," the mouse panted, eyes closed. "Should I, uh ... should we ... "

"No, it's ... it's fine," she told him. They had never done it like this. In this particular position. Not yet. "Keep going ... "

The mouse did as told ... gently. Always, he was gentle. A reflection of his timidity. Of his uncertainty.

But she loved it ... how gentle he was. How his paws were roving over her. How his shy, little kisses were meeting her fur. How his twitching whiskers were brushing her cheeks. How his thin, ropy tail would coil around her ankle ... how he would squeak so shyly, so softly ... squeak from the pleasure. Squeak from the closeness. Squeak. Squeak.

She smiled ... rocking with him. Writhing with him. "Mm ... mm ... "

"Oh ... " The mouse took a deep breath. Breaths coming faster. "Uh ... " Paws fishing round her body. Chest up against her breasts, and a paw trying to get there ... to rub a thumb over a nipple.

She giggled as he tried to figure out what to do to her. Tried to stimulate her all over. He could never decide what to do. Was always so flustered.

"Just ... um ... relax," she advised. Hugging him.

And he hugged back, and he nodded.

And she simply breathed as, connected, they wriggled and wormed on the cushions of the couch. The rising, rising passion, the climbing pleasure.

Until Field's body began to get erratic. As his breathing did. As his squeaking did. And he slowed, nearly stopping. Waiting for her.

"You don't have ... mm ... have ... " She swallowed, her throat dry. "Please, don't ... stop. Go," she urged. "If you need it ... go ... I'll be close behind. Don't ... "

He nodded, blushing, and started up again. Squeaking, growing erratic, going faster. Rocking her, humping ...

She let out a bit of a moan. Nodding, nodding ...

Field began to whimper. Which meant he was only seconds away.

She hugged him as best she could ... as close as she could. Clutching the fur on his back and rump ... toying with the base of his long, pink tail.

"Mm ... oh, oh ... " The mouse arched, squeaking out. Shivering, nearly, as he came. As his mouse-hood pulsated and pumped his seed. Twitching, twitching ... spurting. Sowing it into her.

She felt a warming sensation, a growing warmth, a building ... building sensation. Growing, and ... she followed suit. Chittering.

He hugged her, still inside her ... and breathed deeply of the fur of her neck. Their fur matted with a light sweat.

She hit her own orgasm. Eyes squeezed shut. Panting, panting ... panting ...

And they lay in the glow of that. In the result of it. The sharing of their love.

They lay for a minute.

A minute more.

Field's tail trailing to the floor.

And Aria, breathing slowly, having regained her composure (and feeling Field slip out of her), said, whispering, "How's your ... mousey mind now?"

Field blushed warmly. "Mm ... magnificent."

They giggled together.

And, outside, it was snowing again.