Working Hard part 4

Story by Wip on SoFurry

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#4 of Working Hard

Part 4! Back to the dragon's POV.

I think I made some progress on my writing... but after rereading it so many times, I can't tell

I hope you peeps find this enjoyable, and if not, give me a heads up on what I need to improve upon. Thank you for reading!


4.

The sleeping wolf was snoring. My boyfriend was snoring. Don't think that label will ever lose its shock value for me.

Trent had slowly nodded off, sliding lower on me until here I was, his head resting on my lap and me lost as to what to do. Was there a relationship protocol I was supposed to follow in this sort of a predicament? I am so far out of my depths.

The movie, Death Stab, played on. The dubbed actors oblivious to my inner turmoil as they ran around half naked, compelled by some incomprehensible plot. Not that I'd been following it even before Trent dozed off. My attention had been firmly - if discreetly - fixed on him. He looked so peaceful asleep. The way his lips curled, the way his ears flicked every now and then, it was like he didn't have a care in the world. I wish he could always feel like that. His long hair was messy web though, I felt the urge to fix that.

For the hundredth time I looked over at my computer, out of reach on the far side of my living room, my phone sat next to it charging. Both useless to me right now. If only I could get a message to Dale. My friend would know exactly what to do in this kind of a situation... Maybe not exactly, he was straight, and I doubt he'd ever been subjected to the epic levels of uncertainty I was going through.

I glanced back at the screen. An otter in cutoffs was straddling a shirtless lion. With all the grunting a writhing I founded it difficult to remember they were supposed to be fighting over a wolfess. If they kept going at it like that, they wouldn't be needing the female.

I winced as the otter's blade pushed into the lion's chest, sending a bright red arterial geyser into the camera lens. Fake looking or not, this was disgusting. I looked forlornly at the remote that rested next to the empty Bucket o' Noodles. It too was out of reach.

I sighed and looked down at Trent. Careful not to wake him, I began to straighten his messy hair. How did furs put up with those pesky follicles? They were so fun to look at, and, finally I can say with firsthand knowledge, touch. But they had to be a chore to maintain. I know I dreaded the hassle of filing my swept back horns, could similar feelings be why Trent's hair was so long?

Probably not. As I thought about asking Trent, I realized that sort of question might be construed as speciesist. Can a scaly ask about a fur's grooming? I could probably ask Dale if that would be an inappropriate topic of conversation...

My mind drifted. An image of Dale, his digital paladin, playing a guardian angel on my right shoulder. "Are you kidding me, Valmick? The finest piece of tail you could ever want is a thin layer of fabric away from sleeping on your dick, and this is where your thoughts wander?" The imaginary ram huffed and shook his head. "Priorities, bro. Priorities."

Imaginary Dale had a point. But his details were off. "It's two layers. I'm wearing underwear."

"Me too," Trent mumbled.

I froze while, paradoxically, I felt my body heat rise. Snoring resumed. I let out the breath I'd been holding. Trent thinks I'm weird enough. No need to confirm it. I stroked his hair again, hearing a soft hum of pleasure. I think I could do this. I think I could really handle being in a relationship. It would help if I could get myself a blackmarket lobotomy to quell my incessant over thinking, but that seemed an unlikely and drastic step.

***

The credits rolled and Trent was still asleep. After another internal debate, I decided I could not spend the entire night afraid to move and disturb the wolf. Besides, we had work tomorrow. Trent probably wanted to get home.

I nudged his shoulder.

"Nuhhng," Trent moaned.

"I, uh, the movie is over. Did you, um, want to get up?"

Nothing.

I shook his shoulder a little more thoroughly.

Trent gasped and bolted upright, his eyes still closed. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Thanks for the gum."

"Trent?"

He shook his head, eyes lighting up as I came into focus.. "Mick!" He looked at the black screen of the television. "Oh. Must have nodded off there."

"Yes. I wasn't sure if you needed to be somewhere after the movie ended so I-"

"I'm already where I need to be." He flashed me a sappy smile that made my heart flutter.

I choked out a cross between a laugh and an embarrassing giggle. "Ah, yeah, so should I call you a cab?"

Trent's eyes shifted from me for a moment. "I'm gonna level with you, Mick."

Of course. He came to his senses and this is the end. I suck.

The wolf's ears went to half mast. "I haven't had a good night's sleep since I met you. I think if I... Can I crash here tonight? I Promise I will be the perfect gentlewolf. Just, please, can I stay?"

My blank stare must have been heck for him, but I was still waiting for the part where he rips my heart out. "... Sure," I managed after too long of a delay.

I was unprepared for the hug. It was a so... full. He held nothing back. He had none of the worry about where I should put my hands, how long is the acceptable length of an embrace, no concern for knocking me off balance that would have had me stumbling if we weren't already on the couch.

I tried to return the affection. Gods, I wish I wasn't so awkward! "I- I have some pajamas. They'll be big, but unless you wish to-"

"Sleep nekkid?" He smiled devilishly. "Don't give me that look. I was kidding, this time. I'll just wear my boxers."

"Ok." What do I do now? I decided on my normal course of action. Stand awkwardly until Trent makes a move.

And move he did. One fluid move and his buttons were undone. His shirt fell open. I was overcome with the desire to point at that lith, toned chest and shout to everyone who would listen that, I touched that! My ego was up in arms, the dark, primordial part of my brain urged me to tell the world, I'm dating that! Yes, you should be jealous!

Thankfully, all my body would consent to do was sit there, slack jawed and saucer eyed. Then he stood and my body went through a few addition reactions.

Trent slithered out of shirt, his hands were just as adept at unfastening his belt. I refuse to believe he didn't know exactly what he was doing when those hips shimmied and his pants hulaed down a set of thoroughly lickable legs in a manner that violated several laws of physics and decency. Now all that was left was that tantalizing bulge behind the dark blue boxers.

"Did, did you just strip in my living room?" I sputtered in disbelief.

Trent looked at the pile of clothes at his feet, then back to where I sat on the couch. "I suppose I did. Huh. Fancy that!"

"I... need to take a shower."

"Want me to join you?" Trent asked.

"Ye-no! No. Not yet." The reason why I was delaying the inevitable was lost to me, but I'm sure it was a good one at the time. "Yeah, a shower" I whispered, "a cold, cold shower."

I wandered off in a daze, letting my nightly routine guide me. This was going to take a lot of thinking. The bathroom door clicked shut. Against my better judgement, I stopped in front of the sink, looking into the mirror I habitually avoided.

Nope. Still the same Valmick. Still no clues why Trent was here.

A light went off in my head. Trent was here. My nightly routine involved air drying. I don't think either of us were ready for that sight.

I rebuttoned my shirt and exited, making for my room to collect the sleepwear I rarely used. The light was off but I was familiar enough with the layout to find the dresser.

"That was quick," came Trent's voice from out of the darkness.

I screamed at the unexpected company. "I thought you meant the couch!"

"It's ok, I checked and this should be fine for both of us."

He missed the point. "But-"

"Not tonight, hun. I'm exhausted."

I was at a loss for words. With a towel and pajamas slung over my arm, I made a hasty retreat, passing the bathroom and heading right for my phone. Then back to the bathroom where I called Dale, one of only four numbers in my contacts, and waited for him to pick up.

He answered. "Valmick, where are you? We're raiding Yogsutoth's Keep and need a healer, bad."

"Dale, forget the game. I need help. He's here!"

Over the line I heard the sound of the game logging off. I hope Dale knew how much I appreciated him. But given my propensity towards bottling my emotions, I doubted it. Great, more guilt for the pile.

"Ok," said Dale, "assuming you don't mean Yogsutoth is over for a cup of tea, can I guess you're talking about your office flirt?"

"Yes. He's in my bed."

Dale choked, coughing and gasping in a way that was only a shade away from from offending me. It was not that surprising!

"Trent? The wolf you watched that dirty movie with?"

Ok, maybe it was a little uncharacteristic of me to be in this sort of a predicament. "Yes. Trent. He came over to watch another movie and, well, he just invited himself to spend the night."

Dale managed to compose himself. "So, Trent's in your bed. Where the hell are you?"

"The bathroom. Calling you for advice."

"I can spot two things you're doing wrong already."

Through gritted teeth I hissed at him, "stop joking around! What do I do? I'm freaking out."

"Ok, ok, ok. Calm down. Deep breaths." The loud static pops of my deep breathing reverberated back to me from Dale's line. It gradually slowed. "Better, Valmick?"

I nodded before realizing he couldn't see me. "Yes. Better."

"Good. Do you have any condoms?"

"What? No! We're not having sex tonight. He just wants to sleep over."

"Really?"

"Really." What was so hard to believe?

Dale thought for a moment. I clutched my phone like it was the last doughnut in some sort of a dystopian doughnutless world.

"Ok, Valmick, I got it. You're going to listen to me without working yourself up into a panic, and then you'll do exactly what I tell you. Also without panicking. Understand?"

I started to nod again, then remembered, still on the phone. "Yes."

Dale cleared his throat. "Valmick, I know you. I may not be gay, but I can understand what Trent sees in you. I know you don't see it in yourself, but there are furs who like you for you. Don't think you need to change or do anything you wouldn't normally do. He likes what makes you Valmick. He likes you. Remember that.

"Now you're gonna hang up, you're gonna join your boyfriend in your bed, and you're gonna relax like this is something fun and easy. Got it?"

"Yes," this time I remembered I was on the phone.

"Good. Now hang up and be the awesome dragon you always are."

Deep breath. "Right." I pulled the phone away from my ear, my thumb hovering over the disconnect. In a flash it was back to my ear, "Dale?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you." I hung up before things got too sweet. A new sense of confidence coursed through me as I quickly put on pajamas that I couldn't quite remember why I even owned, seeing as I rarely slept in anything more than a light sheet, even in winter. At some point in the past I must have had the foresight that I would have occasion for modest sleepwear. Good job, past-me.

My confidence ebbed the second my hand reached the doorknob. Be myself, that was the plan. I burst from the bathroom, heading directly to my bedroom before I could remember how little I liked myself.

Into my bedroom, the metaphoric lion's den... or wolf's den if I was being less metaphoric. It was dark and I'd left my phone and its perfect for this situation nightlight on an end table in the hall. I paused and let my eyes adjust to the dim light from the half open door. I heard the soft nasally buzz of Trent's quiet snores. I can not explain why, but I found that little quirk of his - that most would be annoyed by - so endearing. Like, my boyfriend was so at ease in my bed, he could let himself completely relax.

I wanted that kind of a feeling. I moved through the dark, able to pick out the edge of the bed, and peeled back the light cover.

"Mick? That you?" his voice rough with sleep.

"Yes, Trent. I'm here."

"Oh, good," he said with a stretch. "I was afraid you might have run away again."

"I won't run."

I heard his hand thump the mattress, guiding me to where he wanted me to be... where I wanted to be. I slid in next to him, finding his back to me.

"Give me your arm," Trent said.

I rolled over, letting him take it. He pulled my arm over him like another blanket, easing into me until he was curled with as much of himself pressed against me as was physically possible.

"There," sleep bringing his voice down to a whisper, "now I'm sure."

I was speechless for a long time. Afraid what thoughts might manifest if I did anything but concentrate on the feel of Trent. His warmth, his softness, the rhythm of breathing. My heart ached with emotions I couldn't understand.

"Trent?" I whispered.

Nothing but his soft snores.

"I... think I'm falling for you, too." Just before sleep overtook me, I thought I felt his hand squeeze mine.

***

The shrill chirp of my alarm clock brought me out of one of the best sleeps of my life. I tried to lift my arm to smash the blasted thing but something was holding it down. It all came flooding back and I realized it wasn't a pillow I was holding onto.

"Trent," I said softly and pulled my arm.

The wolf mumbled something in protest and locked his arm over mine.

"You have to let go. That alarm is driving me nuts."

He growled but the hold on my limb loosened to where I could slip out. I rolled on my back and slapped blindly at my nightstand until I hit the clock. Much better. Now I could think. I raised my arms to wipe the sleep from my eyes.

Strange, I thought, only one arm was listening. I looked and saw that at some point during the night my other arm ended up under Trent. Now it was numb. I sighed and gave the dead arm a tug that freed it, leaving me with a most unpleasant sensation of pins and needles as blood began to flow again.

Trent was also unhappy about my other arm now being away from him, growling again to the point where I might have been worried he was getting ready to bite if I didn't know him. I rolled back over to spoon with him some more. The growls morphed into a chuckle.

"What?" I asked.

"You enjoy me being here."

"Maybe I do. But what does that hav-" my throat tightened. I was hard. And I poking against his furry butt. "Oh gods!" I scooted away, mortified.

This just had him laughing louder. "I can take care of that for you." He spun over and we lay face to face. Even just waking up he could pull off this hot, disheveled, flirty look. I, on the other hand, probably looked like a lighthouse tinted red. He took my breath away. "You are so fucking cute," he cooed.

"I, uh, should I drive you to your place so you can get ready for work?" He looked at me like I was asking him if plants ever got an itch.

"No... I can just wear what I did yesterday," he said with a smirk.

He knew about my fastidious nature and was just doing that to annoy me. "At least go take a shower and comb your hair."

The smirk widened. "That's right, Mick. Order your dirty wolfy around." He stuck his tongue out and I nearly went out of my mind. Doing what I do best, I gasped like a fish out of water and pulled a pillow over my face. I felt Trent's weight leave the bed, and from the doorway he called back, "I know it goes without saying and you're fixated on Friday, but if you feel like joining me, I'll leave the door unlocked."

"Friday," I moaned into my pillow as the substandard plumbing began to shudder and screech when Trent started the shower. Friday. I had a little over twenty-four hours to figure out how to make a magical, unforgettable first date experience for under forty dollars, and with absolutely no experience as to what a date entailed.

No pressure there!

***

After fixing Trent the finest breakfast I could muster - generic cereal in milk two days from its expiration - and going through my morning grooming routine, we headed off to work.

My car took four tries to get going, but once it did we blew through the city streets at speeds of up to twenty. I got the distinct impression Trent found my driving both hilarious and terrifying. One moment he was cracking up over a hot-rodding elderly llama zipping past us in an electric scooter on the sidewalk, and the next he was muttering prayers as the finicky brakes gave out while navigating a busy intersection. I found myself in the novel position of reassuring the wolf for once.

"Don't worry, Trent. The worst is over." I pumped the brakes, producing a high pitched squeal. "And see, the brakes are back. I told you that rarely ever happens."

He winced at the sound. "Next time, I drive."

"Ha ha," I said without a trace of humor. "That is not happening." Aside from the questionable insurance that barely covered even my driving, no one drives my baby but me.

We made it to the parking structure and as I got out I could hear Trent whining again. "What now?"

He shrugged, flipping back his long hair and smoothing his wrinkled shirt. "I can't believe I'm showing up at a job early. If this doesn't prove how committed I am to our relationship, nothing will."

We laughed and for the first time in a long time I was feeling comfortable in my scales. Trent had an effect on me that I didn't want to lose. It made me all the more determined to make our first date something special.

***

An hour into my day's work I was hit in the head with a wad of paper. I sighed, knowing exactly where this was going. Leaning around the monitor I was greeted with Trent doing the same.

"I'm bored. Let's go make out."

A day ago and that might have had me spiraling into self loathing and fear. But the me from a day ago hadn't slept with that cosmically fine, walking wet dream of a wolf. Well, maybe not slept with in the carnal sense, but slept with in a literal sense, and that was really just as good... for now.

"No," I said firmly.

"C'mon. You know you want to."

Ugh. He was right. But I wanted to keep my job too. I thought it over for a bit until a cunning plan came to mind. It was my turn to shoot Trent a mischievous look.

"What?" he asked as I jumped out of my chair and rounded the desks. I pulled his chair out, spinning him to face me. He started to stand but I halted him with a finger pressed to his chest.

It was exhilarating to see him practically quiver with want and to know I was the object of his lust. Exhilarating to the point of disbelief. I shoved those thoughts out of the way, faking a confidence I didn't feel. "This is how it is going to work." I picked three files from his shockingly messy desk. "You enter these, and you get a kiss. Not before."

I stared at his throat as he gulped. His eyes wide.

Did I do this right? Doubt made and ugly return. Who am I to demand anything? For goodness' sake, I should just be grateful he lets me share an office with him. Valmick, you idiot!

Trent's jaw opened. He moaned. "Ohh, I don't think I can last until Friday." And with that he snatched up one of the manila folders, his fingers stabbing at the keys with a determination I'd never seen in him.

I walked back to my desk. Tomorrow was so close. It was a feeling halfway between the last day of school and my execution date. I put aside my work - I was so far ahead I only felt a slight pang of guilt - and took out my phone. I had an almost working copy of my app on there. The concept behind it was that it could predict the places you'd need to go or would like to go. Given my previous journeys, maybe it could at least point me in the right direction for our date.

I typed date into the query box.

The results were puzzling to say the least. The map was marked on the corner of First Avenue. Not one of the businesses, the actual corner. Why would it suggest... Oh my gods! I nearly dropped my phone. My stupid, half finished, app just recommend I pick up a prostitute!

I switched off my phone, angry and wondering how that was even possible. I'd need to spend hours going over my coding and tweaking algorithms. A smile crept across my lips. That would have been the highlight of my Friday night before Trent barged his way into my life.

This date just had to be special.

***

My mind flitted between my work and my problem until a tapping on my shoulder startled me. "Trent! Stop sneaking up on me."

"I'm sorry," he said, but you could tell he didn't mean it. "I finished the work." He clasped his hands behind his back with an air of smug satisfaction.

I looked at the clock. "I thought that would have at least taken you until lunch."

"You'd be amazed what I can do with the right motivation."

"Clearly." I stood up, looking everywhere but his eyes. "I think I owe you a kiss?" For some reason that came out as a question, like I needed constant reminders that I wasn't in a deep coma having the most wonderful dream.

"Yes. You do." Trent launched himself at me. His hands locked behind my head, keeping me from backing away. I watched his head tilt and his mouth drift open, closer and closer. I caught the faintest hint of his warm breath before our lips locked.

My experience with kissing, much like everything else, was limited. I went off of the kiss, our first kiss, from last night. That, and my instincts. My instincts screamed for me to breath Trent as the oxygen he was becoming to me.

I sucked in, feeling his tongue invade me. I ran mine over his, feeling the rough sandy top and the smooth veiny underside in all its hot spongy glory. I groaned, deep, tasting my boyfriend. Without realizing it, I'd switched from pulling back, to a full on assault.

This was my boyfriend. And I wanted him. Our lips pressed so hard they hurt but still I kept our mouths sealed together, his moans, his taste, his very breath mingling with mine. We parted with a sloppy sounding smack, both gasping for air.

Trent perched himself on the edge of my desk. I collapsed into the office chair. I don't think either one of us knew what to say. I know I didn't.

"Mick... That was amazing." His dreamy smile saying more than his words could.

I nodded. My eyes leered of their own volition. His lips looked puffy. "That didn't hurt, did it? I never lost control like that."

"You need to start losing control more often. I mean... wow." His tongue slipped out, licking his lips like he was looking for any of me that was left behind. "Again?" his eyebrows rose.

I wanted to, more than anything. But if we started again, I would not stop. "No, Trent. We're at work. This isn't the place I want our first time to be. Enter in some more files and I might have cooled down enough for another kiss."

His long eyelashes fluttered, then he looked to the clock. "What can I get for one file before lunch."

Insatiable. "I'll let you kiss my hand," I joked.

Trent nodded. "I'll take it." He jumped off my desk, running for his and leaving me surprised. I was kidding... but if he would be satisfied, and work would get done, who was I to object?

***

While Trent was getting things done for the first time ever, I was in no condition to do much of anything. I came to the conclusion it did not matter where we went on our first date as long as we were together, and it ended in a bed.

I'm going to have to buy condoms. And lube. And... is there anything else? That was the drawback of pornographic movies being the foundation of my sexual knowledge. I loved watching a fur get tied up, but is it appropriate to bring rope into play after dinner, or is that just something that happens in the movies?

Time sped by in a haze of could-bes and might-happens. Two minutes before we were given our lunch break, Trent was tripping over himself to get to my side of the desks.

"Finished," he exhaled.

"Really?"

"Do you wanna check?"

He impressed me. "No, no. I trust you. I didn't think you'd do it."

He smirked, "I told you I can get shit done as long as I'm given the right motivation." His eyes trailed down my arm, stopping at my hand.

My grip tightened on the armrest, I became self conscious once more. But a deal was a deal, and I wanted Trent to touch me again. I kicked away from the desk, the wheels of the chair giving a rusty squeak. With an imperial grace I summoned out of nowhere, I stretched out my hand.

Trent played right into my stupid attempt at roleplay, dropping to one knee and cupping my hand in his. He brought it to his muzzle, rubbing the back of my hand against the stiff short hairs along his jaw. He looked up at me and no words were need. All composure on my part was gone the second those devastating lips pressed to my knuckle.

"Ohh God. I want to fuck you, so badly!" I moaned out.

Trent gaped at me, his smirk returning. "Mick! I've never heard you cuss before."

"I've never felt an urge like this before," I blushed. "I swear sometimes. But I save it for emphasis."

He laughed warmly. "You are so cool. I've never met anyone like you."

I bit my tongue to quell a giggle. "Is that a good thing?"

"I'm on my knee, working my fucking ass off just for the chance to kiss your hand. You tell me."

"Oh..." So this is what it feels like to have your breath stolen. "T-Trent. Let's forget the date tomorrow and go back to my place tonight. I'm ready."

A wetter kiss found the soft scales between my knuckles. "Hun, you've damn near driven me crazy. I wanted you by the end of our first day we met." That wicked smile. "I'm going to wait until after the proper date you promised me. Take these next few hours to see what you've been putting me through these past weeks."

My jaw dropped open. That vexing wolf! "If you weren't as mouth watering as you are..."

He laughed and stood, still holding my hand in his, and pulled me to my feet. "Let's get some food. You get cranky when you're hungry."

I get cranky when I'm horny, too. But it was impossible to hold anything against him. Especially if this is really how I'd been making him feel for so long. I might even deserve this.

Yet I still planned on giving that tease a little payback.

***

I spent the rest of the work day in a fog of electric intensity. We both knew the temptations of Trent spending the night again would be too much, so he kissed me goodbye and ran for his bus, and I drove through the heart of New Abilon by myself. I wasn't as depressed as you'd think, I had a mission. A list of supplies needed to be filled before tomorrow and I just hoped the rest of my money would be enough to cover it.

Coming to a red light I pulled out my phone. Despite somehow recommending I engage in an illegal act, I still had faith in my app. The traffic was crawling with the furs leaving work, giving me time to try out one of the functions I'd struggled to nail down. Voice control. Once I had that perfected I was sure my app would be able to compete with the big boys.

Keeping my eyes on the red light, I thumbed open my app. "Mappy," I said to activate its voice recognition element. It was important to note that Mappy was only a placeholder until I worked out a more marketable name to sell it under.

I waited for the app to ding.

Nothing.

"Mappy," I said louder. It wasn't my app's fault. I could only afford a used phone. The mic was not entirely reliable. "Mappy!"

Ding!

"Sex shop." Ideally, Mappy would search for what the user tells it. I stared intently at the phone in my lap. Ex-props? I was given a list of nearby auction houses that might deal in film memorabilia.

"Sex shop," I tried again, louder. Again I was directed to auction houses. "Sex shop... Sssex. Shop." I enunciated, nearing a shout. My patience wore thin as my phone's mic continued to twist my words. "Sex shop! Sexshopsexshopsexshop!" I screamed.

I looked up to check the light, out of the corner of my eye I saw the driver in the car next to me. A zebra, his tie hinting at a fur of white collar employment. He was shaking his head at me. On the other side a gnu looked positively horrified, behind her, her two young children had their faces pressed to the window, maniacally twisted as they pointed and laughed.

From their perspective, I was shouting at my penis...

"No!" I frantically felt the need to explain as the zebra's window rolled up. "It's my phone! I- I have this date tomorrow and this-" His car sped off, leaving me blushing more that a little. Then the horns started blaring. I looked up to see the light was now green. Believe me, if I would have tried to drive after the gnu to prove to her that I'm not crazy, it would have had the opposite effect. That's a lesson I've learned the hard way.

My date prep was off to a stellar start.