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7.

It was a dream come true. Mick and I were halfway into spending our whole weekend fucking like proverbial feral bunnies. I'll admit, Mick is not as... experienced, as many of my previous partners, but he is a trainable dragon. And what he lacks in experience, he more than makes up for in enthusiasm.

Over the course of our Saturday, we've managed to screw in every room of his apartment. It was a conscious effort on my part. Maybe it was a throwback to my lupine ancestors, but I felt the need to mark his place with our lovemaking, not that I worried about interlopers wandering in to steal my dragon, but I wanted Mick to have constant reassurance that he wasn't imagining this whole thing. I worried a little that he was still in a state of disbelief.

By the time we go back to work, I assure you, he will know it's all real.

I lazed on Mick's couch, absently watching a baseball game and trying to decide if a closet counted as a room, and what sex act we could perform in such a narrow space when Mick came back from the kitchen with two cups of soda.

"Thanks, hun," I smiled. I liked baseball, but watching Mick's expressive body was so much more entertaining. He set his cup down and I was treated to the slight frown, the one that curled more of the left side of his firm, kissable lips, giving just a tantalizing peek at his cute pointy teeth, and topped off with the adorable hint of a crease between his eyebrows. Eighth favorite expression in Trent's yet to be published Guidebook to Mick's Hottest Faces.

"I should tidy up a bit," he declared, looking at the spotless living room.

"Tidy, what? I'm the dirtiest thing in your apartment and you already made me shower this morning."

Trent rolled his eyes exasperatedly - sixth favorite expression - and bent over, coming back up with my shirt and pants. He folded them and walked toward his room, but stopped. "Did you want to charge your phone? I've got lots of different charger cables."

I had zero intention of letting our weekend lovefest get interrupted, but I hope he could see that from the way I'd made no attempt at putting on more clothes than the underwear I was currently lounging in. "Sure. It's probably dead by now."

He tried to pass me my folded pants so I could retrieve the phone from its pocket but I just stretched and yawned, casually flexing just to cloud his thoughts a little so he'd be more agreeable.

"Uhh..."

It worked. "Just assume, Mick, that you can touch anything in my pants," I told him in a throaty growl.

"One day I'll build up a tolerance to your sexiness, and then I'll be able to tell the difference between you being coy, and you being lazy." He fished through my jeans and pulled out my phone. Mick had a set of drawers next to his computer set up. In the bottom one were an assortment of cords, all bundled nicely and secured with twist ties. God, he was organized.

"You've got some messages," he pointed out.

I didn't care. "They'll wait."

"Twenty-seven." My phone pinged. "Twenty-eight," he corrected.

Fuck. That was a lot for one night, even for me. With the greatest of reluctance, I got off the couch and walked to where Mick was standing with my plugged in phone. "Well, who are they from?"

Mick shrugged. "I don't know your passcode."

I took the phone from him a thumbed the screen. "Don't use one. I can never seem to remember it if I set it."

"You can't remember a four digit number?" he chided in the background.

"Oh shit." It was nothing good. He looked at me with concern. Not to be overly dramatic, but his concern was finally appropriate. "My parents are trying to call me."

***

"Is that all?" Mick asked flippantly.

"Is that all? Mick, you have no idea how...how... meddling, they can be!"

"Aren't all parents?"

I refused to dignify that with a response.

Mick persisted. "Twenty-eight messages. They appear worried. Maybe you should call them back?"

"No." I said it much more harshly than I meant.

"Sorry," Mick said quietly.

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright, Trent. I understand. I'm sorry I said anything."

"Mick-"

"It's none of my business." He started walking. I don't know where he planned to go in this small apartment, but I wasn't about to let him get far.

"Mick! Please. I didn't mean to..." I tried to figure out what the fuck I did, "snap?"

"You didn't snap. I'm just an idiot. You don't want some stranger involved in your personal life. Completely understandable."

"Stranger?" that stung. "I- We slept together! I fuckin' lo- I just wanted to spare you the drama infused bullshit that comes with my family. Not forever, but I didn't want to scare you off until you could see I wasn't like them."

"Trent, relax," he put his hands on my bare shoulders. "I'm not mad or anything. But after three dates, you clearly decided I'm not the kinda scaly you'd want to mix in with your family. I knew it. It's why we only meet at my place, why I'm never asked to drive you home, and... well, I don't have a third thing, but I'm sure you do."

My jaw dropped. "Three dates? What the fuck happened to this being our first! And- Holy hell! Do you see what's happening. They haven't even said a word, and already their venomous fangs have sunk into the veins of our relationship."

Mick stopped pulling away. He pressed his finger and a thumb to his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Trent. I overreacted. Just, this whole relationship thing is so new to me, and I am really bad at pretty much everything social. Can we pretend the last few minutes never happened?"

I threw my arms around him, only now noticing how fast my heart had been racing. Without letting go of him I starting dialing back my parents. I hit the speakerphone button and the dial tone filled the silence.

"What are you doing?" Mick asked.

"Taking a bullet out of this particularly tiresome gun. Use your safe-word if you need me to hang up."

"Safe-word? We never discu-"

"Hello?" the nagging voice of my mom cut him off.

"Hi. I'm not dead in a ditch, or tripping on the goofballs, so, we good here?" My finger hovered over the disconnect, itching to push down before this got worse.

"No, we are not good here!" She had the nerve to sound offended. "Where are you? Your father and I were worried sick."

I started to roll my eyes, but on the upswing I caught Mick's disapproving gaze.

My mother continued to dig my hole deeper. "Do you remember what we talked about? If you didn't shape up and sto-"

My turn to interrupt. "I remember! And I assure you, I am perfectly fine."

"Perfectly fine?" her voice was getting shriller. Not a good sign. "You can't go on spending all night in those Godforsaken clubs doing who knows what! You swore up and down that after you moved back home this sort of behaviour would stop."

My unoccupied hand slapped across my eyes. What the hell was I thinking? Could I really have imagined this stupid display of openness would really put Mick at ease?

"You didn't tell them where you'd be?" Mick whispered accusingly.

"Who is that?" the life sucking harpy on the other end of the line asked. I opened my mouth to say something that I'm sure I would have regretted, but thankfully my boyfriend was starting to find his confidence.

"Uh, Valmick Fosttorn. I, um, I'm your son's..."

_Fuck._He wasn't going to say it. "My boyfriend, Mom. I am with my boyfriend." Call me paranoid, or call me psychic, but I could feel the judgement oozing through carrier waves.

"Mrs. Adlin?" Mick spoke again, "I'm sorry we're meeting like this, but I promise you Trent is safe as can be."

The line was silent for a moment. A blissful moment that ended too soon. "I wish I could believe that, but I really have no idea who the hell you are."

"Do you have a social media account?" Mick was undeterred. "I maintain a profile on all of the major ones, and I dare say, they are ninety-nine percent accurate and up to date."

I had to take my hand away from my eyes just to figure out if he was being serious. Bless his dragony heart, he was. I think my mom was trying to figure that out on her end of the line too.

"Trent?"

"Yeah, Mom."

"We're worried." The venom was gone. Now it felt like she was injecting me with the far more potent guilt-serum.

"I know. But don't be. I'm not a pup anymore. I just wanted to spend some time with Mick."

That heavy sigh of the put upon parent. "Supper, Sunday? You can... invite your... boyfriend. I think I can talk your father out of doing any drastic, but he is quite mad at your sudden disappearance."

I looked to Mick. He was nodding enthusiastically, no idea of the briar patch he was about to wade into. "We'll be there."

Not one for sentimentality, she hung up and it was just me and Mick again.

"She seems nice," Mick inexplicably observed.

"Were we listening to the same call?"

Mick gave me a sheepish half smile. "It must be nice to have someone to worry about you."

I mumbled an unenthusiastic agreement. I hated looking like an unreasonable fur. What this situation need was a quick diversion. "How'd you like a blowjob?"

***

Fifteen minutes later and Mick was sitting on his couch, sweaty and pantsless as I licked lazily at his spent cock. I always loved when I got to play with a cock after they cum. They get a little extra sensitive and I can tease out the kind of moans Mick was giving me. Half pleading for the rough tongue to stop its ticklish slurping, and half demanding that the sweet agony continue. One of the few times I liked being in control. Plus, my victims were usually too exhausted to swat me away, no matter how annoying I got.

"Ohh, Trent, you are amazing," Mick bleated as my tongue probed into the crease of his thick uncut draconic dick. "B-but I think we need to stop. If you make me cum one more time, I think I risk dehydration."

I had him right where I wanted him. My head resting comfortably on the pillow of his thigh, I flicked my tongue, trilling along the veiny underside. Too tired or too polite to resist physically, Mick groaned for me to stop.

"I'll stop, but first you have to promise me something."

"Anything," he managed the strength to run his fingers through my hair. "Anything, but you're not getting out of seeing your parents tomorrow."

Ah, fuck. "We could sell that tv, get enough money for a couple of cross country bus tickets - maybe sell your car so we can buy a candy bar to split on the ride - and be well on our way to starting a new life before Dad can hire the first bounty hunter."

"Another dig at my car," Mick said with mock surprise and indignation. "I don't see you complaining about the rusty steed when we're motoring on a date."

I growled, but Mick already knew me too well to be intimidated by my lupine ferocity. "Alright," I gave that reptilian pleasure stick one more kiss then hopped onto the couch. "So what do you normally do on a Saturday night?"

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. I think it'll be awhile before you're ready for another round-"

"Gods, yes," Mick protectively grabbed his overworked equipment.

"What did you do for fun before you met me?"

"You've seen the sort of movies I watch..." he kept thinking, "I play this game, Fantasy Action Planet. It's a pretty popular massively multiplayer online role-playing game."

Normally, the thought of watching someone play video games all evening would send my brain into standby mode, but this was Mick. I could watch him watching paint dry and still be riveted. "Sounds good. Let me watch you F.A.P."

"Heh, the preferred abbreviation is actually Fan.A.P. for obvious reasons."

I was giggling uncontrollably by this point. "Yeah, they wish."

"Anyway," Mick rolled his eyes, "I was thinking you might want to play too. I have a laptop."

Obviously, I agreed. Not only did I consider myself a pretty decent recreational gamer - you should see me play Flappy Bat on my phone - but this weekend was all about cementing my status as a pleasure bringer in the eyes of Mick. If he wanted to chase after pixelated gold coins, I would be right there beside him.

Turns out, F.A.P.ing is a fair bit more complicated than playing Flappy Bat. Mick set me up a free account and we spent an hour turning a nondescript digital fur of questionable species into a decent facsimile of yours truly.

"Almost done," Mick assured me. "What class do you want to play as?"

"Proletariat." Mick didn't find that as funny as I would have thought. "Ok, which one gets to hit things with a sword?"

A flurry of clicks. "They all have the ability, but I'll assume you want to be a knight."

"Fuck yeah! Let's do this."

"Just a second." More typing and clicking. "Username?"

I considered that for a moment. "Wolfy?"

Mick's fingers clacking. "Taken."

"Wolfy1?"

Typing. "Also taken."

I will spare you the excruciating details, because I'm a benevolent knight, sworn to protect furs from evil and excessive tedium, or some shit, but my little digital me was eventually dubbed Wolfy8357. And now we were ready to kick some ass. Mick slipped a headset over my ears.

"Mick, we're in the same room. Are these necessary?"

"They're not for us," he said as he settled onto the couch and plugged a pair into his laptop, "I want to introduce you to someone."

Symphonic music sounded as a loading screen filled Mick's huge desktop monitor. I was actually getting into the whole fantasy aspect. Ready to smite an evil army, in my shining armour while rescuing my dragon-in-distress, and then taking him to my castle for a proper deflowering. Then the game loaded.

"Aww, Mick, I think Wolfy8357 is homeless!" Instead of shining armour, I was wearing tattered rags, and rather than the intimidating gleaming sword I had a dull dagger. Well, that was disappointing.

"All characters start out as destitute newcomers to the realm. Hang on, I'll teleport to you." Mick's voice echoed through my headphones.

I looked around, digitally, and it was impressive. The detailing in the squalor really made me believe my character could get the plague. I watched a steady flow of new players spawning around the town square. Several spun in a circle and one started yelling through a fuzzy mic, "how the fuck do you jump? I'm trapped in this fucking fountain!" while splashing around in the ankle deep water.

With a gaudy flash, a pale-blue robed scaly stood next to the indigent Wolfy8357.

"Here," Mick's character said. And my inventory filled with a bronze set of armor, a flashy sword and a few hundred pieces of gold.

"Right on! Wolfy8357's got himself a sugar daddy."

"Can't let my boyfriend meet a guildmate dressed in rags now, can I?"

"That's right," I squinted at the name displayed over Mick's avatar, "Lord VF. Oh, I am so gonna start calling you m'lord next time you're fucking me."

"Heh... You know we're on a public channel and others can hear us."

"Kinky little voyeurs," I laughed. And with that, a new loading screen appeared. "What happened?"

"Teleporting us to meet Dale."

"Who's Dale?"

Mick was quiet for a moment. "I guess he's my best friend after you. If you're going to introduce me to those closest to you, it's only right that I take you to meet the closet thing I have to family."

Oh my God. That was the saddest, most touching thing I'd ever heard. If I didn't want to let Mick down by making a bad first impression on his friend, I would have tossed off my headset and snuggled him until he knew he'd always have me. And I mean always. At this point, even if our relationship crashed in a meth-fueled disaster of epic proportions, I was willing to swear on the life of my Nana and to his scaly gods, that I'd always be there for him. No matter what.

The screen loaded and I was looking at a horned fur in the kind of shiny armour I was originally expecting to have. He was poking a giant feral rat with a glowing sword. Sir Roxxor Goat. Nice username.

He spun at our arrival.

"Valmick! Buddy! I was getting worried. The guild was going to put out a search party for you. It's been like two days since you logged in. Tell me you finally sealed the deal with that wolf you're sweet on."

I turned in my chair to give my blushing dragon a wicked grin.

"Uh, Dale, I'd like you to meet Trent." Somehow he made his avatar motion to mine.

"Hi," I spoke into the headset's mic.

"Oh," Dale didn't need to animate his avatar for me to know he was regretting his last sentence.

"And, yes, Mick did seal the deal and then some."

"That's great," Dale recovered quick. "Hey, Valmick, turn on your webcam and let me get a look at the wolf that stole away Fan.A.P.'s greatest cleric." He hastily added, "that is, if you both aren't... you know... getting it on. I don't need to see that."

I turned around again and gave Mick a thumbs up. As he made his way from the couch he put his hand over his headset's mic. "Dale's hopelessly straight, but he's still really cool."

"Hey! I heard that," Dale informed us with, pretending to take offence.

Mick clicked something and the top half of the screen split into two boxes. In one, Mick and I were were staring back at ourselves, in the other was Dale. The goat looked to be about my age, his hair shaggy and thick, and his fur an off-white shade with a deep black stripe running from the tip of his nose to his black hair. Two stubby horns poked through his mop. We eyed each other up.

"So. Trent." He smiled.

"That's me."

"Valmick says you two work together?"

"Yes. In the same office, if you can believe it."

A shrill chiming sounded from Mick's bedroom. "My phone," the dragon said. "Wonder who it is. I'm talking to half the furs I know." He excused himself to quickly check on who was calling.

"Hurry back, Valmick," Dale said cheerily, craning his head like he could watch the dragon leave through the screen. Seconds after he was sure Mick was gone, his demeanor darkened. He motioned me closer to the monitor. "Alright, Trent, you seem like a decent fur," his voice dropping to a harsh whisper, "I'm hoping I got the right read on you. But if you hurt my friend in any way, I will beat the hell out of you. Don't think I'm joking either. And I don't know if Valmick said anything, but I'm studying to become a lawyer. So, if you damage Valmick, I won't just kick your ass... I'll sue you!"

My jaw still hung slack as Mick trotted back to my side. "Dale, why are you calling me?"

The goat gave a look of surprise and shifted, leaving the frame for a moment. "Hah, look at that. I butt-dialed you!"

We all laughed, Mick being the only one to do so genuinely. "So, yeah," Mick continued, "my two best friends, meeting. I can't really tell if this is awkward, but I'm hoping you two have something in common."

I closed my mouth, processing what just happened. "I like this goat," I declared. Anyone that protective of my Mick was alright with me. "A law career, you say?" picking up where his threats left off.

***

Mick, Dale and I talked and played the surprisingly addictive game long into the night. It turns out, the goat and me do have common interests outside of Mick. We're both into baseball and delighted in boring Mick out of his mind with talk of stats and why we were both better suited to be running a team than any of the idiots who managed to wrangle themselves a sweet gig like head coach. I even met a few other of their guildmates. Or should I say our guildmates, as somehow I let Mick and my new pal talk me into becoming a perspective member of the Guild of Ominous Gamers. I have nothing against geeking out, but if Jody got wind of this, I would never hear the end of it.

Speaking of Jody, I decided to give the fennec a call the next day while Mick was taking a long ice-cold Sunday afternoon shower before the dreaded dinner at my parents house. He picked up on the first ring.

"Trent, you magnificent slut! Are you still with Mick?" he asked happily.

"Yeah- Wait. How did you-"

"I stopped by the house yesterday and got the full story from Alex."

"How does my brother know what's going on?"

"Your folks were having a rather vocal discussion about an impending soiree, and he overheard it."

I rubbed my head in frustration. "Then I guess you know why I'm calling."

"Of course, Trent!" he chirped, "but as honored as I am, I think you should take Mick as your date. It seems more appropriate."

"Jody," I growled.

"Kidding, kidding, kidding. You came to me seeking my unimpeachable wisdom."

"Don't sound so smug. Nana doesn't have a cellphone."

"Still puts me in the top two wisest furs. Now what could possibly be worrying your pretty lil' head? Anyone who can put up with your snoring for two consecutive nights will have no problem tolerating your..." he grasped for a polite descriptor, but apparently gave up the search. I do not blame him. "...parents."

"I don't snore. And this is serious. He- he doesn't know the kinda tax-bracket my family's in, and money is a really touchy subject with him."

"How is that even an issue? Your relationship's like a slice of hot cherry pie. Finding out your folks are loaded is like the cook asking if you want a scoop of ice cream on it. No one can have a problem with Trent a la mode."

"You don't understand him. He got super uncomfortable when I tried to split a sandwich with him. He made me let him pay for his half. We couldn't even date until payday so he could treat me. Meeting my family will be like stabbing him in the back. I can't do this to him! What the fuck was I thinking? Everything was going so perfectly! Why the hell did I call them!"

"Trent! _"_ Jody shouted over my shouts. "_ Calm yourself this instant!_" Jody was a switch, willing to play dom or sub, and while we have fucked occasionally, we always decided we were better off as just friends. So the sex was casual, mainly for stress relief, never getting into the serious roleplay stuff we both sought at the clubs. And that is why hearing that little fennec bring out his metaphoric claws and order me with more force than a stick of dynamite... it was enough to shock me into silence out of sheer surprise.

"There, there, now," he said, going back to his normal, soothing, bubbly self. "No sense getting worked up. You aren't the worrying kind... which means you are really, really, into this dragon." Well, obviously, I refrained from interjecting. "Now, Mick's money fixation is his issue, and one he needs to deal with. You are not your parents, and unless he's a fool, completely unworthy of wolf like you, he'll already know that. It might be a little painful for him - and you - to confront this, but, dammit, any relationship that has you this neurotic is worth fighting for. Explain to him the situation, and show him it doesn't change who you are. He will understand."

Will he understand? I might not be giving my dragon enough credit. He's smart and our feelings are real. I think the biggest issue he might have is me not sharing all this with him until tonight. I owed him my trust. I think I needed to confess my concerns to Mick. Get everything into the open so it doesn't fester.

Jody broke into my internal monologue. "Oh. Scene over, pup. You may speak."

"Shut up, you tiny, annoying fur," I laughed, "you aren't nearly as intimidating as you think. But I'll admit, that is some quality advice."

"Nana-quality advice?" he asked hopefully.

"Well, she wouldn't have yelled at me, but yup. Thanks for the assist, Jody."

"Anytime, Trent. I'll see ya later."

As soon as Jody hung up Mick finished his shower and my rush to tell him about my family slowed to more leisurely pace. I mean, maybe the meal would be called off. Miracles do happen, right? No need to tell him everything this second.

"Trent, go take a shower before we go. And I'll need an address for the GPS when you have a moment."

Double fuck. I could put off the address while the miracle manifests itself, but the shower might be tougher. "Mick, I showered yesterday."

"And since then, we've worked up quite a sweat," he called as he dashed from the bathroom to his bedroom. "Even I can smell the sex on you. And I don't have the canine senses your parents have. I want to make a good impression and show that I can be trusted to take care of you."

"Damn your adorable innocence. I can't say no to you when you're all cute like that."

"Good to know."

***

The two of us sat quietly in the parking garage. Mick was wearing the best clothes he had, and I was in the jeans I wore Friday and the white work shirt I'd brought along in the event things went perfect and I spent the weekend. Almost worked too.

"Trent?"

"Yeah?"

"I still need an address. Unless you don't want-"

Not this discussion again. "I just want you to know, no matter what happens, I'm nothing like my parents."

"What if things go good? What if I like them?"

"Just, please don't judge me by whatever happens." I waited until Mick promised, then mumbled the address for him to type into his map app.

"Oh," he gasped.

I cringed, terrified that he'd make a snap judgement. "I really meant to tell you. Don't be mad."

"It's no big deal. I've just never driven my car that far in one go. But I'll think she make it."

My racing heart started to slow. He was talking about the distance, not the neighborhood. I let out a long slow breath while he coaxed his car to life. We made it a few blocks before he asked the inevitable.

"What are they like? Your family."

Oh, that is such a tricky question. "Um... my sister and her family will probably be there. Ursie will be cool, and her mate, Floyd, will love you because he won't be the only non-wolf at the table. He thinks he's a musician, but don't ask him how it's going.

Wes will be the big asshole in the room. He might tease you, and I might end up kicking him in the nuts. But don't worry about it. I know how to handle him.

My youngest brother, Alex, could be there too. If he hasn't handcuffed himself to a bulldozer. He might not speak to you, but he's just being shy, not rude."

Mick nodded. "Ursie and Floyd. Don't ask how it's going. Wes... the wolf you kick in the nuts. Alex, the shy one. Got it." We got out of the dense downtown traffic and Mick's car struggled to a reasonable speed. "Any tips for dealing with your parents?"

"Yes. Avoidance. Let's turn around, go back to your place and watch some porn." Mick did not dignify that suggestion with a response. Another heavy sigh. "Mom is a part time financial analyst, when she's bored with playing the socialite. Dad owns a few grocery stores." The silence that ensued was worse than any outburst I feared.

"Really?" he asked after a time.

"Yeah."

"I see."

I could hear the gears in his head grinding their way to the wrong conclusion. "They're stifling, Mick. They don't like who I am and they think by cutting off the money and forcing me to move back home they can make me change."

"I... see," he repeated. "Trent, I don't know how this is going to go, and I don't want to do anything to embarrass you, or do anything to strain things with your parents. I want to support you in the best way that I can. And if that means you want me to turn around, I will. I can even call them and say my car broke down so they don't think you had anything to do with our absence. If it's as bad as you say, you can stay with me for as long as you want. It's not much, but anything I can offer is yours. So, what do you want me to to do?"

"Kiss me."

Mick started to question my response, but with my lightning fast reflexes, I stole the kiss I was after. He sputtered at me. Something about how his car was dangerous enough while parked and I shouldn't have done that no matter how empty the roads were. But the ear to ear grin told a different story.

I guess Mick wasn't the only one of us to need a little reminder of what we had in each other.