FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The rules are simple: Smile. Fake that smile better. Be kind. Make smalltalk. Don't show up until you are called. And if the clients are rude... SPIT. Spit all over their food. Spit till you are dehydrated. Well, that last one may not actually be a rule. But is certainly business standard.

Working in a fast food restaurant isn't a glamorous job. All the more if that restaurant happens to be the Chicken Palace. If I had any choice, I'd be right out of this roach nest. But let's face it, even a data entry position demands three years of verifiable experience, a degree in rocket science and a recommendation letter from the president. It's like if businesses didn't want employees at all. For a nineteen year old like me, this is the only way to go.

"Incoming table five!", Gus, the chef, slid the dishes on the counter and disappeared as a big black and white blur into the kitchen. Time to put those rules into practice.

"Chicken pot pie for the lady..." I'm sick of the word chicken. "Chicken Parmesan for the gentle fur..." The worst is that the owner doesn't let us use synonyms. Apparently 'rooster' and 'cock' are too suggestive and inaccurate, and I'm "an immature jerk". I can't believe I didn't quit right then. They sent me to wash dishes for the entire summer!

"... And Cheddar Volcano for the pup" Finally, some creativity in the menu. "There you go. Enjoy!". I made a quick reverence to the otter family and set my way to the Maitre d'.

"Norm, right in time! Take care of table twenty six, the customers are just sitting". I held my chin for a second, trying to remember where that was in my system. "The one with the view to the strip club?" I snapped my fingers.

"You've been a year here. When are you going to learn the table layout?", Telin frowned at me. "Go", the small feline shushed me.

When I reached the table I turned and squinted to a snickering Telin. Fuckin' cat. He always sends me the loving couples. Can't they spare the public show of affection? Makes me wanna puke rainbows. This close to Valentines day, it reminds I failed once more to score a partner.

"Good evening. My name is Norman, I'll be serving you tonight", I waited until the leopard and vixen broke their kiss to slide the menus on the table. They better tip off well if I have to stand this kind of behavior. With a fake smile, I left them to make their minds, although something tells me they will order chicken.

It's a good moment to stop by the kitchen and say hello to the pack. The staff consists of canines only. The panda hires them that way for their keen senses. I'm glad my bunny nose isn't that keen, with all the mixture of spices and that thick smell of grease, it must be quite an ordeal.

Dicing, chopping, slicing, the room has a rhythm of it's own. Hairnetted wolves go from one stove to another while Gus, the black and white ursine, digs his big wooden spoon in their preparations.

"Hey, Jared! What' up bruh? Any douchebag that thinks he has a palate send you a dish back, today?", I saluted the slim brown wolf.

"Ugh, don't even get me started... And what about you? You lazy ass! Shouldn't you be swinging that cotton ball around the tables?", Jared mocked me, hopping in front of his station. We have a love-hate relationship, ever since I caught him smoking weed on the parking lot. The arrangement works fine for both of us; I don't say he is a pothead and he turns the eye whenever I add my DNA to the customers' orders. Win-win.

I bent in a classic bunny stance and shook my rump before straightening back and showing the finger to Jared as I walked out of the kitchen.

***

"So... have you decided what you want?", I clasped my hands enthusiastically.

"Hmm... I can't make my mind. What do you recommend?", the leopard looked expectantly for my answer.

"Oh, the Japanese burrito is the hit right now. Nori algae, salmon and salted chicken, all seasoned with guacamole and a hint of wasabi. A truly culinary experience", Gus has no reserves in destroying two cultures to make a dish pop out.

"Ooohhh, I'll have that!", the spotted feline rubbed his paws. Yes, but guess what you're not getting, pal? Laid. You will be stuck on the toilet seat all night long. Mwahahaha.

I blinked away the malevolent smile that was forming on my lips and turned to the vixen. "And the lady?"

"I'm leaning for the vegan salad. Are the vegetables grown in farms that use natural fertilizer?" Dude, you brought a vegan to the Chicken Palace? Like, she must be really into you.

"I'll ask the cook", I retreated with my fake smile. Customers can't have enough of those.

***

And, as I expected, couples paid off better than families. Guess what fur leaves as the most tipped tonight? No, not me. Ashley got the bigger profit. But girls always get more than guys, they just rub their boobs and tails all over the customer's face and voilà, fifty percent tip. I'm still the best paid waiter, though.

After having dinner with the rest of the staff, I shuffled to my car and drove off excited. That's perhaps the only thing I do like about my job, we are like a big family. Sitting on that long table we joke and laugh and talk about life in general. Even Gus allows himself to relax and forget he pays our wages. Chef and manager; I honestly don't know how he handles it. Maybe it's the wine, he chugs down an entire bottle per night.

Anyways, I jumped off my car and entered the two story house. "Hi mom, hi dad", I shouted from halfway to the second floor. I changed clothes on my empty room and ran down the stairs with my gym bag on hand. "Bye mom, bye dad", I slammed the door shut after hearing their confused response. While driving, I looked myself in the back mirror, grooming my messy yellow fur. This has to be my night. A week ago I answered a Craigslist ad from a fur that needed a roommate and now I'm going to see him.

Ever since my sister moved to college I just can't stand my parents crap about how a perfect daughter she is and how I should do something with my life. Well, not everyone can get a scholarship on Harevard for being a cheerleader... and sleeping with one of the judges - whether mom and dad want to accept it or not. Where do they think she gets all those expensive clothes? Denial, denial.

So, I have my hopes up for this apartment. I need a calm place where I can think what I want. I finished highschool a year ago. I couldn't make it into any scholarship and my parents can't afford to pay my studies, we already have one mortgage. I attended community college for a semester before taking both shifts in the restaurant. I didn't feel connected. It was just studying and going home. I was so hyped with the parties and frats. Commuting isn't what I expected. It's... disappointing. Even more when I know my sister is getting all that, effortless.

Perhaps I'm too pretentious. I should go back to community college and obtain an associate degree. Yeah, that could save me lots of bucks. And then, I can switch to a Uni to pursue a bachelor degree. But... I lose the freshmen years. I start as an awkward outsider a-and... sigh. This isn't the time for an existential crisis.

I finally arrived to the address.

The neighborhood looks good so far, no shady characters wandering around. I check once more no food leftovers are trapped in my enormous incisive and proceed to push my ears into the red hoodie. A quick sprint under the rain and I'm standing in front of the intercom. Apartment 3B. I push the button.

"Hello?", a distorted voice answers.

"Hi, I'm Norman. We spoke on the phone. I'm here for the roommate ad", for some reason I gestured a phone with my hand.

"Right. Come in", the door buzzed.

***

"Hey, bunny! Are you still with me?", the dingo waved a paw.

"Sorry. I'm still awed by how nice this apartment is", and the building too. Classic brick facade, no cracks in the wall, no crack heads in the hall, working elevators. Pretty. Damn. Fine.

"Yeah, and frigging expensive", he tapped the clipboard with his pen. "Okay, let's continue. FPS or RPG?"

"Depends of the game", I calmly replied.

"Good answer. Last one asked me if I was talking about military weapons", with a snort, Marcus ticked another box in his checklist. The guy seems a bit too organized in my sincere opinion. Apparently, I'm the third fur to show up for the ad.

"Next question might be uncomfortable. But I have to ask", he warned, in a more serious tone.

"Are you gay?". Whooooa. Way too personal! I blinked and made an effort to bring my eyebrows down from the ceiling.

"Straight as an arrow", I knocked the coffee table.

"Oh", the dingo seemed disappointed. "Do you have a problem with homosexuals?", he frowned, almost menacing. I knew there had to be a catch.

"Not at all", I shook my head. "Everyfur is free to do whatever they want with their body, as long as they don't get me involved". Did I mention that the place has a view to the park?

"Fair enough", he let out after a long time staring at me.

"Could you wait a moment?", he moved to the kitchen's island where he thoughtfully reviewed the two page checklist.

I waited more than nervous for his decision. This is the dream flat. Every now and then I would have to stop my leg from frenziedly tapping the floor in a feral fashion. I shifted from one position to another in that couch while Marcus looked at me and then back to the sheet of paper. If I could squeeze the armrest any further, then I would have to face that uncomfortable question: "what is a black hole doing in the middle of the living room?"

"You did pretty well in the debrief, and besides, the others were smokers. Plus, we are awfully close to rent day and that can dig a hole in my finances. So... welcome to our place, roomie", the dingo extended a paw with a smile on his face.

"Yes!", I would have liked to come off as more nonchalant than the roof high jump I gave.

"Here. Your set", Mark slid the keys on the countertop. "Bring your stuff whenever you are ready".

"Uhm... now is okay? Got everything in the car", I smiled innocently.

"Okaaay, somefur is really optimistic", the dingo arched an eyebrow. "Let's go. I'll help you", he motioned me to the door.

***

Monday. Best day of the week! Well, for me. It's my day off. Marcus left early in the morning, said he had college or something - though it could have been collage. I'm not sure. I groaned a response and continued sleeping in the bare mattress -no bedsheets, no covers. I dropped dead there, after texting my parents that I got an apartment. Mom replied with a "Congrats, darling! Come home. We'll help you pack", followed by "Oh my god, your room is empty?! Why would you do that?!!! DO YOU HATE US, NORMAN?!!!". Dad, on the other paw, just sent a thumbs up smiley.

Marcus couldn't understand how or why did I crammed all that furniture in my car. I will admit It was pretty full, even the passenger seat had boxes piled up. Points for the dingo; he didn't complain that "mysteriously" his boxes were the heavier ones. Five trips on the elevator and we parted to our rooms.

And now I find myself searching for the light switch like a blind fur, bumping and kicking boxes in the process. Damn clown-sized hindpaws.

There.

Hmm... I need to do something with the walls, pink is definitely not my color. Also, the lack of a lock makes the door kind of pointless.

Back to the living room, slash kitchen, slash computer room, slash -no, that's it, I proceeded to check what Marcus has on the fridge. Huh? A post it on the door. "Be back at noon. Don't eat the pizza, is probably a week old. Cereal's on the top cabinet, last door to the right", it read. I wonder how long until I grow tired of these.

Opening the fridge, I found *drums roll* a pizza box (so unexpected), a milk bottle (half empty), some eggs, a cucumber -conspicuously close to a bottle of lube (Ew, ew, ew!), and bananas. The later were tempting, but they always seem to make me more hungry than I already am. Benedict eggs will be. After a year surrounded by cooks, you can't simply settle with cereal.

It took sometime to find where the dingo keeps his pans, but soon I was enjoying my meal, watching the birds fly from one tree to another, their sing still reaching my keen ears from between the street's daily noise.

Making a good impression the first day matters, that's why I cleaned after myself. With the previous leads, I wasn't surprised to find out that Marcus has more cleaning products than food in the fridge. OCDingo, no doubt of it.

Okay, time to unpack. And what better place to start than my glorious gaming rig? Oh, yeah. It left a dent in my finances but was damn worth it. Good thing that the desk-slash-library is big enough to accommodate both my PC and his laptop. Now, just one thing missing... _my padded chair. _

***

"One more turn aaand... there. That should do it". I tend to speak out loud a lot when I'm alone. In retrospective, I should have packed some screwdrivers. I hope the scissor-adjusted seat holds itself together long enough, until I can properly tighten it.

*ding*, my phone chimed. A new message from Victoria. "Dying to meet you", read the text hovering over a picture of the doe changing her hair color to an electric blue. A simple and all-purpose "LOL" later and my cellphone was back on the table.

I met this deer through that "Timber" app and we have been chatting around since a few days now. She's the strongest chance I have of getting a date for Valentine's. Which is quite sad. I don't think I'm into her at all. The whole goth thing, with the heavy make up, dark clothes and excessive piercings ain't my cup of tea. But hell, its been a long and dry season for my carrot. Speaking of which, I should probably keep unpacking.

Oh, look! What's this? A bottle of paw lotion and a box of tissues? How'd these two got together? -Heh, heh, heh. You are coming right next to the computer. Just one thing left. Let me see:

"Bar deodorant?" Not what I'm looking for, but certainly could use some right now.

*Sniff* *Sniff* -Yeah, definitely.

What else? "Self stirring mug". Nope, still not what I want.

Keep digging. "Ah, finally", my ultra bass HQ Headphones. German brand. No 'Beads' marketing bullshit. I almost feel ashamed of what I'm using them for. Almost.

The familiar home screen of YiffHub lits before me. An extensive grid of videos tailored to my user profile and more than prolific search history. I hit the "random" button and let it buffer while I take off my clothes. They are not getting jizzed until I bring my wardrobe back from home.

When I sit back, a flick's already playing. "Dirty and broke", I read the title while spreading my big foot paws over the desktop. "Two vixens come back to their apartment from a yoga class to discover that their shower isn't working. Short on cash and buried in debt, what are they willing to do to get a good lathing?" Oh, such an original plot. I bet it even won an Ass Scar Award.

With a wide grin, I spurt some lotion onto my paw and hit play.

***

Wow. Look at that flexibility. Those yoga classes sure are paying off. I can even forgive the plumber trying to fix a leak with a hammer, or the fact that his toolbox's content consisted solely of dildos. With each stroke to my meat those little details become background noise, making room to the pair of bubble butts bouncing on the lion's lap. I feel the orgasm building up inside me. I've been delaying it for countless and delicious minutes, just waiting for the best scene. But they seem to step up the game every time. Hell, that toolbox had more toys than Santa's sack. Realization hits when the two wide-opened muzzles align eagerly under the lion's cock. This is the last shot.

Fuck it. I pump furiously and go still, letting it spray all over me like a geyser. Nothing a quick shower can't fix. I still have an hour before... Oh, crap. I got carried away. The movie hit the two hour count. Its NOON. I rode the last spasming jolts of my orgasm in complete panic. Who the fuck makes a two hour porn flick anymore?! And WHY am I still fapping at this! The dingo, he could be here at any moment. I have to...

FUCK. I felt a hot breath on my shoulder and abruptly pushed back on my seat, to look behind me. The backrest fell apart and I almost hit the ground with it, if I hadn't gripped the armrests with all my strength. There is just one part of my plan to save me from a concussion that I didn't consider, and that was that it left my rabbithood completely exposed before a luring Marcus.

"Dude, WHAT THE FUCK! How long have you been there?!", I covered my crotch with sticky hands. The blushing and aroused dingo didn't answer the question.

"Great. Now I need to touch myself", he muttered instead, leaving the Chinese food bag he brought on the table and taking the hand lotion with him.

"Wait...", I cried out, but he had already closed the bathroom door. "Are you fapping on the porn... or on ME?", I finished with a low, affected voice.

***

Twenty four, six, three. Those accounted for the floor tiles, cabinet doors and power outlets in the kitchen area. Why does that matter? I don't know; I just couldn't look at the dingo. I had to wash my fur in the kitchen sink because a certain someone decided to lock himself in the bathroom. Sigh. At least he bought lunch. Not that I'm particularly hungry, I had breakfast just two hours ago. But it's a nice gesture.

"So, you're done for the day?", I broke the silence. There go fifteen long minutes of avoiding eye contact and pretending nothing happened.

"Yes, I'm taking few classes. I'm six months behind on my loan's payments, mostly due to this place's rent. I can't afford it any longer. I'm prioritizing work and getting that payment schedule back on track. You would usually find me serving sandwiches at this hour; but since It's my day off on the coffee shop, I'm going to take some pictures on the park"

"Some pictures?", I inquired while chewing some rice.

"I am a photographer. Well, photographer in progress. That's what I study. I make some extra cash taking pictures in weddings and selling stock photos online, but my main income is still from Tzarbucks.", he shrugged.

"I'm currently working on a series depicting the effect of the four seasons on the park and the furs that visit it everyday. You know, just to add something to my portfolio. Wanna see?", his eyes seemed to spark when he talked about his hobby. I wish I'd found something to be so passionate about.

"Oh, uhm... sure".

Marcus rushed into his room, his tail swishing uncontrollably. He came back in the blink of an eye, carrying a heavy box. He put it on the table and took off the lid to reveal a bunch of binders piled up.

I reached to grab one and was about to open it when he ripped it off my hands.

"Not that one!", he pressed the album to his chest. Okay, that's the one with the dickpics, I get it. No need to make it so obvious.

"Sorry. It's personal. Just... give me a minute. Feel free to check the others", he pouted and took it back to his room.

Confused by the situation, I shrugged and began to peek into his work. The pictures were amazing. He had a shot of feral birds building their nest while sun rays went through it. This other one, in black and white, taken from behind, showed an old tiger sitting on a bench, frozen in time as he read the same page of a newspaper while a blur of furs walked before him. How long must've that taken to capture?

I snorted at another picture, taken on winter. Out of focus, was a raccoon cub covering his eyes with an arm as he leaned against a tree. Before him, a trail of footsteps extended in the snow, leading to some bushes not too far away. The image gained sharpness to center on a big orange tail with a characteristic white tip protruding behind the bushes. You're gonna get busted little fox! Can't help but laugh picturing the cub's disappointment.

The smile still lasted in my face when Marcus came back. "This is fantastic. You got real talent", I tapped his album. Not without noticing his bloodshot eyes. Was he crying back there? Maybe he's ashamed of taking so many dickpics. The least I know the better.

"Thanks", the dingo smiled as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Like I said before, I'm going to the park. So, if you wanna drop in, you're welcome". He shrugged.

"Oh, right. I uhmm... was actually gonna get the rest of my stuff from my parents house. I would probably bother you, anyway. I've been told I'm annoyingly chatty. Trust me, you're better off without this unstoppable maw around", I pointed to my face while still masticating. Yep, I have a bad habit of talking with my mouth full.

"Well, I guess I'll see you later then", he grabbed his backpack and a tripod.

"Mhm~", I nodded, swallowing down the last of my meal.

Marcus was turning the door knob when my neurons made a connection.

"Wait!", I slid off my stool.

"Mom and dad. They'll probably wanna see the place. You mind if I bring them tonight?"

"Sure. I'll be glad to meet your... No. Hold on. They don't have a problem with gay furs, right?", he looked down, sliding his hands into his coat's pockets.

"Dude, I wasn't going to bring that up. Your private life ain't my business", I shook my paws in front of my chest. "Though, I would really appreciate if you don't mention it either. I don't wanna give the wrong impression, ya know".

"Of course I won't bring it up. I don't go around greeting people like: Hey, I'm Marcus. Photographer, barista, GAY". I know he was being serious, but the snicker was uncontainable.

"I just want to know upfront if that's ever going to be a problem", the dingo pouted.

I shook my head and assured him he had nothing to worry about. My parents are pretty open minded. Hell, I even think mum secretly wishes I was gay so she can play the "cool supportive mother" in front of her friends.

"Good", Marcus breathed relieved. "I hope they don't mind Mondays is naked night", he said while closing the apartment's door.

My jaw dropped.

Two seconds later the door opened back, letting Marcus's smiling face in.

"That was a joke, by the way", he grinned and finally took off.

***

As I drove to my parent's, I kept looping through the morning events. _Great way of starting your first day in the apartment, fapping in front of your gay roommate. Fucking grade-A. _

I take a moment to look at the front of the house. More specifically, my room's window. Happiness surrounds me. My life is finally starting. No matter what I study, no matter what I do, it's my decision. I'm in control. I let go of the handwheel that I was squeezing so enthusiastically and enter the house wide smiled.

"Hi mom!", I jumped and gave her a tight hug before she could scold me for moving out so abruptly.

"You have to see the place. It's amazing!"

"Oh, Norm. I can't believe you are moving out already. You grew so fast!", she started weeping.

"Mooom. You don't have to get all sentimental! I'm a ten minutes car ride away", I rolled my eyes.

"Where's dad, by the way?", I expected to find him watching some game on the couch. Like I always do since they gave him that medical leave.

"Upstairs. He's taking some measures in your room. He wants to see if he can fit a pool table in there"

"A pool table?! Why didn't he buy one when I was still living here? That's so unfair!" Mom chuckled but I didn't see what was so funny. Not cool, dad. Not cool.

I gathered the rest of my clothes from my room while giving a disapproving glance to my father as he kept taking measures. It's the first time I see him excited about anything in years. Mom asked what I thought of my roommate. I was about to answer her when she interrupted me, holding her phone screen in front of my face.

"Your sister is coming to visit us this weekend!", she cheered and disappeared typing along the way.

_Damn Vivian. It's always about her. _

As I aimed for the front door with my bag full of clothes, my dear mother asked the inevitable question: "Norm, When are we going to meet your new place? I'm not getting any sleep until I'm sure you are not living in some roach-infested methlab".

"Seriously? You think I would like to live in a place like that?!"

"Norman, you dropped college. I don't know what to expect anymore". Argh! She likes to twist the knife on that open wound!

Sigh.

"Tonight. At seven, I guess? I have to check with my roommate first", I'd already done that, but the more I delay this, the more time I get with the apartment all to myself.

***

"Grow up, asshole! Playing children's games?! Get a job, you fucking loser!", the lady's voice nearly deafened me through the headphones -if she can even be called lady with that mouth. I may have made her nine years old son cry. It's not my fault that he took it so personally when I called him a "worthless piece of shit". But, really, everything needs context. Like morning sex, for example. It is arguably the best thing to wake up to. Right? _Except when you're in prison. _

So, for context's sake, we where in the middle of a three hour quest of Chaos Realm: Ascension Protocol, just about to beat this big boss fight. All he had to do was keep our mana buffed and the healing aura coming. I could train an ant to do it. It's literally just pressing two buttons.

How was I supposed to know the kid is special? Damn, it killed my mood... and my avatar.

Just as I muted the waterfall of insults coming from furLord776's mother, the door clicked. I slid the headphones down and turned to see Marcus slowly pushing the door open with the tripod while covering his eyes with his free paw.

"Norm, you came back? Is it safe to come in?", he yelled.

Thank goodness he wasn't watching, my cheeks burned with shame.

"Uhm.. Yeah?", I helped him with the tripod.

"You play C.R.A.P too? That's great! We can team up and -Sonuva... How did you get those jet propulsion boots?! They are so frigging awesome!", Marcus almost slammed his face against my monitor trying to admire every pixel that made those boots.

"I have contacts", I grinned.

"Perhaps I need to get some contacts", the dingo pondered, rubbing his chin while still keeping his muzzle pressed to the screen.

"Whats that smell?", Marcus wrinkled his nose.

"Bought some provisions on the way back, I'm making a stew", I pointed to the boiling pot.

"Y-you know how to cook? I'm going to eat homemade food? No more ramen and takeout?!", Marcus's maw gaped in awe, his tail wagging frantically.

"Yep."

"Where have you been my entire adulthood?", he hugged me.

"Okay, enough hugging!", I had to push him back after the time I considered adequate for a bro-hug had passed and he started breathing on my neck.

"Now... I think a salad would do great before the stew. I have my eyes set on a cucumber in the fridge, I bought some tomatoes and celery. Mhm~"

"Not the cucumber!", he started and I laughed internally.

"I... uhm... I'm saving that. I keep a strict diet." Pfft! Sure, I bet it includes bananas.

"No salad then. I'm gonna move the pot from the fire, anyway. My folk should be arriving at any moment."

***

My parents visit went better than I expected. For once mom didn't embarrass me in public, and after a quick glance to my room -and some snickering- dad offered me an old paint can he keeps in the garage, which I thankfully accepted.

With my parents gone, we sat for dinner. I never saw a fur so happy for a meal. Marcus literally licked the bowl clean; his third one.

"Oh, man. I'm so full", the dingo rubbed his strained belly.

"Finally! I thought you were gonna eat the whole table too!", I chuckled.

"Heh. Sorry. I usually have manners, but it was so tasty I couldn't hold back", Marcus scratched the back of his head.

"Rejoice all you want. You are doing the dishes", I smirked.

"No prob. There are worst chores than that", Marcus shrugged.

"Oh, no. There aren't. I've spent an entire summer doing dishes back at the 'Palace. I'm done with it for life"

"Really? You think that's bad? In Tzarbucks we rotate chores constantly. That includes cleaning the restrooms. Ever had to unclog a toilet after a bear used it?", Marcus winced.

"Ewww! Okay, you win. That's disgusting", I shivered just to think of it.

I watched Marcus work from above my notebook's screen as I browsed through furbook's shallow publications. His quirks were so amusing you could grab a bucket of popcorn and be entertained all day.

First, he ordered the items by size. Starting with the utensils, he submerged them into the steamy water of the sink. One by one he took them out and scrubbed each curve and gap with his soapy sponge. He then held it close to the light and examine it thoroughly. It then went one of two ways: either the utensil passed his inspection and was ready to be set aside; or it was submerged again and the process repeated.

Once everything was rinsed and drying, he spent a considerable time rinsing the sponge itself. Oh, but it doesn't end there, because now he had to clean the sink. And then a second sponge appeared -of course! Who in their sane mind would use the same sponge, right? Right..

Clearly, the second sponge had to be rinsed as well.

When he was done, Marcus turned to find me with my lips curled and trembling, barely holding back a giggle.

"What's so funny?", he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

"You are", I bursted into laughter. Marcus grinned and came to me with his tail swishing from side to side.

"This isn't staying like this", he said while taking off his shirt. For a moment I thought he wanted to fight. But soon I was corrected as he stretched his T-shirt over a chair, revealing a stain of water where his belly had pressed against the sink. He changed into a new one and turned to me defiantly.

"Come on, log into C.R.A.P. I'm going to erase that smile from your pretty face. Let's see if you're laughing when I beat the hell out of your paladin." Did I heard wrong or he said pretty face?

We played for an hour before going to sleep. To my displeasure, he won two out of three matches. And I won the last just because I jabbed his ribs... aaand I may have pressed his power button. Yes, I'm a sore looser.

In the coziness of my bed, I found myself staring blankly into the ceiling. A wide grin crossed my face. The apartment is great and I like Marcus, I think we can be good friends. Valentine's in two days and I already secured a date with Victoria. You'd think that would be keeping me up, but nah. I'm pretty calm about it. It is this image of Marcus' bare torso constantly flashing in my mind and the weird boner that comes with it that has me worried. Pretty face... The words kept echoing in the back of my head. Why do I care if he thinks I'm pretty?

Dammit. I cannot afford a confused cock just before a date. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and opened Yiffhub.

"Titjob", I typed. "That's it. Good boy. Now you can get as hard as you want", I motivated my dick.