FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

Edit: I was a twit and forgot to italicise some words.

A tortuous screech stabbed into Michael's ears as curtains were flung open. Clapping his hands over his ears, he retreated under the covers. Trying to hide from the light attempting to rip his eyes out of his skull. His head throbbing. Each and every sound was torture to him. The squeaking of the bed springs to the distant horns of cars. All of it torture. His stomach also twisting in on itself.

"Good arvo!" Rob's face twisted in a mischievous grin as he watched the mass under his covers curl up and groan louder in response to his voice. "Time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty."

"How the fuck are you so chipper?" Michael's voice muffled by the bundled up covers.

"I'm not a light weight like you."

As he wrapped the covers tighter over himself a tidal wave of thoughts and realisations slammed over Michael. What happened last night? Why was Rob there? This wasn't his bed. Tossing the covers off of himself, Squinting and wincing as the light from the window stabbed his eyes.

"Why am I in your home?"

"You were completely shitfaced and none of us knew where you lived," He sat down on the bed, handing Michael some ibuprofen and a cup of water. Michael winced from the springs protests as Rob sat down and swallowed down the tablets and water. "Also, according to Nikki and Alex, you were *my* responsibility for bringing you with us."

"Nikki?" asked Michael before realising that he was talking about NIkau. He chugged the rest of the water. It doing little to alleviate his cotton mouth. GIving the cup back he rubbed his face as he tried to remember what happened the previous night. He had trouble remembering after the third drink in. He remembered them laughing at his hiccoughs but that was all he could reliably remember up to. There were flashes of moments. A spilled drink, a taxi, a russet furred hand groping some...one. Michael froze, afraid of the answer to the question he would have to ask.

"Oh god. Did we...?" He couldn't bring himself to finish

"Oh, nonono. Nothing happened,"

Michael exhaled in relief, "Oh, thank Go-"

"Though not for a lack of trying from you."

"What?!" Michael snapped his head up to Rob before immediately grabbing his head in pain. "Ah, fuck. What'd I do?"

"What do you remember?"

"Groping someone. I think it was you," groaned the kelpie, "What else did I do?"

"It's fine. Don't worry yourself over it," getting up to leave he added, "Come on, get up. You should have a shower."

"No," Michael yanked him back down onto the bed looking at him with bloodshot eyes, the springs screeching into his ears as the dingo landed, "What else did I do?"

"Uh, well," he drummed his fingers on the bed, "You were very, uh, forward."

"Oh no," Michael flopped back and buried his head underneath the pillow, trying to hide from the shame of drunkenly hitting on the straight bloke next to him, "I'm a slutty drunk."

"It's fine," the dingo said, rubbing the sooking keplie's back.

Barely audible from under the pillow, Rob heard the kelpie whine, "It's not."

"It is, we've all done stupid shit when completely shitfaced" he comforted before adding, "Was that your first time getting drunk?"

"No," he said, muffled, "First black out."

"Oh, come on. Your black out isn't the most embarrassing I've seen," Chuckling and patting the still sooking canine back he continued, "You should've seen the aftermath of Nikki's first blackout, it was mine too. It was on his eighteenth and I promised to wait till then to drink with him. When we woke up the next day, he was wearing a pair of knickers and a bra."

Michael pushed himself up and looked at the dingo, the pillow still on his head, "Bullshit."

"It's true," he took the pillow of the disbelieving kelpie's head, "I still have the photo."

With that he bounced out of the room, quickly returning with his phone. Unlocking it and scrolling through it.

"Why are you telling me all this?"

Putting his phone down he answered, "Because you're acting like such a bloody great sook."

At that Michael laid back down, rolling over, his back to Rob. As he laid there pouting a phone slowly came down into his view. Revealing a picture of a passed out ram. His face dragging down the side of a couch and wearing a matching pair of lacy, red ladies underwear. Michael tried to suppress a laugh but a soft snort made its way through.

"You laughed," the laughing dingo poking him in the side, "Now you're cheered up."

Michael couldn't help but start laughing along with him before quickly stopping and grabbing his head.

Sitting up he asked, "Where's your bathroom?"

"Behind that door," he pointed to the closed door next to the open one going to the hallway, "There's an unopened tooth brush in the cabinet. You can use that. I'll leave a towel on the door."

"Thanks," getting up to shower his stomach finally had enough of him and Michael immediately dropped to the ground and grabbed the bucket left by the bed, an empty plastic bottle rolling away. Rob cringed at the sound of Michael hurling and coughing into the bucket.

"You good?" he asked as Michael finished.

Wiping his mouth he nodded and got up and shuffled into the bathroom.

Sitting under the shower's spray, Michael rested his head against the tile on the wall thinking about what Rob told him that he did, trying to remember the details, to no avail. The effect of thinking of it and the hot embrace of the water made his mind wander, imagining what could have happened. The water running down his back he imagined it as Rob leaning onto him, his tan furred arm reaching around, his cream furred hand rubbing Michael's skinny chest and drifting down. Past his belly and grabbing a hold of his throbbing arousal and starting to stroke.

Michael let go of his cock, reaching up and twisted the shower knob over to the cold water. He stood up and started soaping himself up, avoiding touching his cock for too long as it wilted under the cold water.

Rinsing himself off, turning the water and shaking the water off him he got out of the shower. Putting his hand out the door, feeling for the towel, pulling it in and closing the door. He rubbed himself dry as best he could, not wanting to use a hair dryer with his head still throbbing. Finishing up in the bathroom, fur still slightly wet, he got dressed and headed into the living room.

Rob's apartment was a lot better looking than Michael's, a soft, flat grey carpet covered his floor, stopping at the brown tiles that made up the kitchen. A corner kitchen with varnished wood cabinets and island topped with granite benchtops. A navy blue corner couch was arranged to act as a wall for the rest of the living room. A glass coffee table with fitness magazines sat in the middle of the area the couch made and a large tv cabinet stood against the wall with a large LED T.V, Michael wasn't sure how large it was but it was at least around sixty-five inches and the glass doored cabinets containing trophies, a signed football and pictures of Rob with his family, team and friends.

"Think fast."

Michael caught with both hands the sports drink Rob tossed at him. "Good, you still remember how to catch. Try sipping it this time."

"What?"

"Oh, you told us that you played footy in high school," he passed Michael some more ibuprofen to replace the tablets he threw up.

"Thanks," he swallowed the tablets, chasing them down with some of the drink. "I only remember up to the hiccoughing."

"You told us that before that, Squeaker." he said before laughing and shaking his head, "You really don't remember anything from last night."

"Oh," Michael's ears drooped as he realised his memory of the previous night was worse than he thought, "Don't call me that."

"Alright," he conceded, "Bluey it is then. Ya hungry?"

"No," Michael answered, stomach grumbling. Rob raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," he admitted and Rob handed him a packet of plain, salted crackers. Nibbling the crackers and sipping the drink he sat down on the couch watching what Rob had streaming on the T.V, a science fiction show with avian aliens and spaceships, waiting for the tablets to kick in. As he was watching Michael thought of something.

"Rob."

"Hm?"

"On Nikau's eighteenth, were you wearing any knickers?"

He laughed, "Oh no, can't say for sure if I did anything stupid the night before, but I only woke up in normal clothes hating the world. Like you, this morning."

"How many people know that Nikau wore knickers?"

"Just me and him," he said before adding, "And now you. Don't tell him I told you. Okay?"

"I won't," Promised Michael, laughing, "How come you don't have a hangover right now?"

"I made sure to drink plenty of water before going to bed."

Remembering to do that as well next time he went to the pub Michael leant back into the couch finishing his drink and watched the show. He'd never seen the show before and he liked it. It was an 'adventure of the week' kind of show, visiting new planets or space stations each episode. Michael laughed with Rob whenever he cracked jokes about the characters and the show's world.

A few episodes later, with the tablets taking away the worst of the headache he got up telling Rob, "I've intruded long enough and it's already getting late in the afternoon, I should head back to the pub to pick up my car."

Getting up with him he replied, "Let me sneak you out back."

"Sneak me out?"

"Yeah, uh, if any paparazzi see you leaving my apartment doing what looks like a walk of shame they're gonna to start spinning rumours. Don't want to drag ya into that crap."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, don't want them spreading rumours that you're gay."

"Eheh, yeah..." Rob scratched the back of his head an awkward silence falling on them as they headed down to the ground floor.

In the elevator Michael stood behind Rob rocking on his feet, his head barely making it up to the taller Dingo's shoulder blades. A thought floated at the back of his head, a question he felt he should ask himself or someone but each time he tried to focus on it it would fade before returning as he focused something else, particularly anything involving the dingo in front of him. Eventually the doors dinged open and Rob hurried him out of the foyer to a back exit, looking over his shoulder for any paparazzi that may see them.

As Rob opened a door to a back alley Michael broke the silence hanging between them by piping up, bashfully "Uh, Robbo?" Robbo turned around to look at him, smiling at being called that, "Thanks for taking care of me."

His smile faded as he gave Michael an odd look before it quickly returned wider than before and he pulled him into a rough hug, patting his back. The kelpie's face held against the dingo's muscular chest, "Anytime."

Reluctantly pulling out of the hug Michael said his goodbyes, Robbo closing the door behind him as the kelpie came out of the alleyway to wave down a taxi.

***

"Fuck,"

Michael stood looking at the tickets on his car, down the block from the Harvest Inn.

"At least I can afford to pay them now at least," pulling the tickets off and getting into his car he put them into the glove box. Starting his car, merging into traffic and almost immediately getting stuck in it. He thumped his head onto the steering wheel and groaned.

When he finally got to his own apartment, having taken almost as long getting back as it took to get to the pub and sunset arriving, he looked at the inside of his own apartment. It was smaller and noticeably cheaper than Robbo's, a linoleum covered floor, a simple kitchenette against the far wall, a second hand 3 seat couch in the living room section of the apartment and a twenty-four inch TV on a simple 3 cabinet TV cabinet.

Sighing he tossed his keys onto his particle board coffee table and plopped down onto the couch and turned on his TV, deciding to put on the sci-fi show he watched at Robbo's. But it wasn't grabbing him like it did back at Robbo's. Thinking it was bad episodes he switched to the ones he watched with Robbo, but they had the same problem. It just couldn't keep his attention.

Giving up on the show he put a microwave dinner in the microwave. Lounging on his couch and pulling the coffee table up to the couch to set his food on it, he switched over to a popcorn action flick and ate his dinner, turned his brain off and enjoyed the movie.

Not used to waking up so late in the day, it felt that the time for him to go to bed snuck up on him quickly. Turning off the TV he dragged himself off the couch and made his way to bed. He lay there waiting for sleep to take but it refused to. He knew that he had to wake up early for work tomorrow, especially with the Rugby season starting in a few weeks so practice will start getting more intense for the team and that would mean more work for him and he knew he'll have to be well rested for it.

Resolving to use a trick he used he slid his underwear down his legs and thought back to his first and only time with a guy, a black and white flecked bull arab in the back of his car after their school formal. Michael lay there naked on the faux leather car seats, nervous, looking up at the bull arab above him on all fours. He leant his head down to Michaels neck, giving it soft nipping bites, making him moan and expose his neck more. Alternating between biting and kissing his neck he started rubbing his chest before moving his black and white furred hand down, grabbing hold of his leaking cock and stroking with a firmer and more experienced cream furred hand than what Michael remembered. Gasping and softly thrusting into the hand he reached over and brought the dingo's head up from his neck and kissed him.

Michael pulled his hand away and rubbed his forehead, his cock leaking in disagreement as he tried to get back on track and remember back to his first time. But each time he tried it would derail and involve Robbo. He would try fantasizing about being caught and dominated against an acacia by a lion in the African savannah before it would shift to the bush against a paperback tree with the tall and muscular dingo. He tried a more gentle fantasy with a fox in a shower but that was quickly hijacked and replaced with the dingo rutting him in the locker room showers.

Giving up he lay back in bed, ignoring his twitching arousal he pulled his underwear back up and stuffed his cock into them and decided to suck it up and lie in bed till he fell asleep. As he laid on his bed, eyes closed, waiting for sleep to eventually take him his neglected dick tried to get his attention. Each throb in his underwear, every leaking drop of pre chipped away at his resolve.

Eventually the rest of his body began betraying him. It started when his legs started squeezing against thighs against his bulge, then his hips started softly grinding against his mattress before his resolve finally shattered as his hand drifted down and groped himself through his underwear as he ground. Releasing a whining moan he threw off the sheets from on him, pulled his underwear off and fell back into the fantasy he tried so hard to avoid.

He was back in Robbo's apartment on all fours on his bed, invitingly swaying his hips at the dingo. A cream hand rested against the kelpie's side before gripping him and pulling him towards the dingo. His other hand shoved against Michael's shoulders, pushing his chest against the bed as the dingo's cock ground between the russet furred cheeks.

With his face in his pillows and rear in the air, Michael pulled some lube out of his bedside table and slicked up both his cock and fingers. One hand went to his cock and the other went behind him to his swaying rear. The finger massaging his tailhole.

He bit the pillows in both fantasy and real life as his rear was speared by the imaginary dingo and his fingers pushed in, zeroing in straight to his prostate and forcing out a moan into his pillows. As the imaginary Robbo started thrusting Michael matched in real life his strokes and presses against his prostate, each press making a shock of pleasure to lance up his spine.

Bucking into his hand and squeezing his fingers his tongue fell out of his mouth onto the pillow as he started panting. Robbo in his mind's eye leant over him, the dingo pressing his thick pecs into the smaller Kelpie's back and grabbed his shoulder in a mating bite. Letting out an embarrassingly slutty moan he clamped down hard onto his fingers and came. Like a gun he shot into his sheets, three, four, five times. Thrusting into his hands for each one.

Coming down from his high he immediately felt a huge pang of regret at fantasizing about Robbo, his friend. His straight friend. He shuffled off the bed, wiping the lube from his hands and spent cock. He took the sheets of his bed and stuffed them into his laundry basket to wash at another time. As he put fresh sheets on he promised himself to not pine for the dingo, knowing that it wouldn't end well for either party.

As he fell into bed he finally felt sleep start to take him. It was when his eyes started closing he finally realized what the question was that has been bothering him since he woke up that afternoon.

Why did Robbo take him to his apartment instead of making him stay at the inn?