Stray Dog Strut
The kit fox yawned, nosing gently into the throat of the maned wolf to laid next to him, arm holding him in a loving embrace. He carefully unwound his legs from his beloved stilt-legged fox and stood, giving a long, lazy stretch that made his shoulders and back pop. With a quick rubbing of sleep from his eyes, he set about his morning routine. The fact that he even had one said something about the vulpine, being more nocturnal in nature. He went to the bathroom and reached into his cabinet. His paw hovered over one bottle for a moment before he passed it up... He wasn't feeling particularly anxious today... But the other bottle he took up and opened, dumping out a single green and white capsule... He'd need to get a refill, today.
The fox popped his pill before stooping down to drink from the tap and wiping his mouth as he stood to stare into his own chocolaty gaze. His paws moved idly, smoothing down sleep tousled grey fur along his arms, but he stopped immediately as his fingertips found near identical bald patches in the crooks of each. Large ears pinned back as he closed his eyes and shook his head.
The fox hissed a bit as the needle sank into his flesh. He drew the plunger back a bit, watching his blood register and mix with the yellowish liquid inside before emptying the contents into his bloodstream.
Toby, the aforementioned fox shook his head hard, making the three rings in his right ear jingle as his jaw clenched hard enough to make his teeth grind audibly. That was two years ago, just before Jace had found him, and he didn't want to relive it, but without it, he wouldn't have found the love of his life... Heroin, a lover and a murderer, and a part of his life that would follow him for the rest of it.
The fox, now living in on Venice Beach, south of Santa Monica on Pacific Avenue, didn't look like one that would be interest in drugs of any kind, even if you saw him sitting on the second floor balcony of his and his partner's little surf shop in a pair of board shorts, smoking a cigarette, but that wasn't the beginning of his story, Heroin. No, it was the middle of it, maybe.
You see, at the tender age of sixteen, after already having served as the saving grace for his older brother through any number of blood and marrow transfusions, the young fox couldn't help anymore... It wasn't for lack of want, though. He'd caught Mono from his first ever boyfriend, and reacted to it rather poorly. His throat was raw, and his temperature spiked, and upon a visit to the doctor, it was discovered that it had cause not just his liver, but his heart to swell, the latter of which being rather negative, as the virus also caused his heart rate to jump.
Toby was left out of commission for the better part of two weeks, a time in which his brother's condition worsened to the point that it was no longer an 'if' he would die, but a 'when'. It took another week of a sixteen year old crying at his bedside.
His parents had been very supportive when he'd come out, allowing him to be honest without ramifications. That seemed to change when his brother passed. They both became very distant from the small fox, and once or twice, they'd even placed blame on him for his brother's death. Looking back on it, though, he'd just interpreted their words that way. Not that he was in much a state of mind to interpret anything. He was utterly broken. He blamed himself. His brother, while not getting better, wasn't getting worse, because of him... And then, that resource was gone just long enough for his dear sibling's compromised immune system to fall to some pathogen.
Like the stupid kid he really was, Toby began to seek out ways to make the hurt stop. He'd find someone to buy him alcohol... Until he got his own fake. That didn't quite work, though, so he moved on, buying marijuana from a few guys at school, but again, this didn't do what he wanted. He experimented for a while with other drugs, but it wasn't until he graduated from high school and moved to California with a friend that he found his Persian princess. Heroin made everything go away. Everything. His savings, his friends, his home, and the hurt: they were all gone, but in his mind, the latter was enough to forgive the others.
For a year, he was strung out, living out of homeless shelters and doing what he could to earn enough money for some clean needles and a fix. People paid well for shorter, more petite guys, it turns out.
That was how Toby and Jace met. At this point, the smallish, big eared fox had been selling himself to buy his China White or his Persian. He hated himself. He'd OD'd three times that year, and died twice from it. Temporarily. The first time, it was only a minor over dose, he figured. He'd awoke in a dumpster and hurt everywhere.
You see, when you OD, your body shuts down, and rebooting mind and muscle isn't an easy thing.
The second time was three months later, only a day before the love of his life found him. He'd been a day or so without is junk, and couldn't hold steady, so he had someone else shoot up for him, and according to what he was told, as soon as he pulled his tie-off loose, his pupils dilated and his eyes glazed over. The pink that marked the quick of his nails turned blue, and he curled into a ball. He woke up in an ambulance with a heavy duty needle buried in his chest. Adrenaline... right to the heart.
The EMT... A Siamese cat, if he recalled, said he should be dead. So? He already felt dead. What did he do? He walked out of the hospital that night, or, snuck out, scored, shot up, and passed out.
He woke up with what looked like a fox, a really tall one, nudging his side with a bare paw. His dark bangs hung in his face as he helped the smaller fox up, and took him home.
Toby'd done this before. A little sex, a couple of twenties, and another baggie and new rigs. Not this time, though. The maned wolf, he found out, took him home and bathed him and gave him a pair of brightly colored board shorts and a wife beater from the surf shop he owned and lived above.
The next few days were hell. Toby was detoxing. His body hated him. His stomach cramped and his intestines refused to function. Not that it was much of an issue, though. He couldn't keep anything down to digest. He hardly slept, and a constant stream of toxic-waste-sweat poured from his body. A week of constant pain and discomfort, intermixed with fitful sleep and repeated escape attempts is what it took for the Kit Fox to get over the worst of his withdrawals. Cleaning up is dirty work, after all.
The next task was to get him to a doctor. Jace took him to a local clinic. Much to Toby's luck, even after a year of needles and prostitution, he was disease free. And even better... His track marks were healing, though he doubted the fur would return in the crooks of his elbows.
It had been two years since all of this, and here the fox sat, watching the sun rise over the ocean and the smoke curl from his cigarette. His unoccupied paw moved north, touching against the small silver ring in his nostril, then up again, to the spot on his left ear where he had a heart tattooed. It matched Jace's. Kind of.
Jace, being the man's man that he is, had, instead of simply tattooing the flesh of his ear, had the a heart shaped chuck of flesh punched out. It healed cleanly, leaving a hole you could see though, in the same shape. Both modifications had been done at the same time.
Toby's thoughts were interrupted by a pair of long arms wrapping around him from behind. He yelped a bit through as he exhaled his last drag, purely out of surprise. He thought his big guy was still asleep. He was sneaky for six-foot-four.
Tossing his cigarette away, Toby made a pleased noise as he pushed back into that cream-and-rust chest, making himself at home in his boy's lap. The area between his ears was met with loving licks and kisses, which made the smaller fox murr happily, until he yelped again as those arms squeezed down on him and he was lifted into the air and carried back to the plush bed that the pair shared. Jace laid him down softly and pressed his large paws into the mattress on either side of the fox's shoulders, and soon enough, his long muzzle met his lover's in a tender embrace. His tongue danced over the smaller creature's lips as grey furred paws stroked over his narrow rib cage, his claws combing through the fur, until they moved down to his flat belly and further south, tugging on the waist band of the wolfish fellow's sweats.
Jace broke away with a grin and stood, backing away from Toby, who offered a soft whine, only to be met with a tossed condom hitting him in the nose. That elicited a little smirk from the fox as he watched his boyfriend and savior tug off those sweats, exposing a little bit of morning wood.
Tody took the hint and stood, going to his beloved and kneeling down, his pierced nose pressing gently to the base of that thick sheath. He nuzzled it gently as his paws fondled the heavy orbs that hung below, making that familiar shaft swell from its silky-furred holster, until it stood at full mast, a thick eight inches with a generous knot at the very bottom. He kissed the tip, which already leaked pre-cum, and licked his lips before tearing the rubber open and slowly rolling it down his lover's penis, and stretched it over the slight bulge that would soon lock him and Jace together.
Once his task was complete, he stood, pressing himself close to the stilt-legged fox and kissed him warmly, one arm around his slim waist, and the other pushing down his own shorts, until they fell, and the backs of his legs hit their bed. He laid back slowly, only to roll over to retrieve a tube of lubricant from his nightstand. Or so he thought. He yelped yet again, out of surprise, as strong paws wrapped around his hips, and a cold nose pressed under his tail, brought into a beautiful contrast with the warm tongue that followed.
The maned wolf did this now and then, forgoing traditional lubricant, and instead using his tongue to do the job, as well as loosen Toby up for his entry. His tongue worked over the tender ring of muscle firmly, the slight texture of his tongue tugging at the flesh gently before he worked the tip inside, where it wiggled and swirled, making the little grey fox moan and writhe.
These sessions usually went on for a few minutes, and today was no different. It didn't matter, though. They always served to get Toby leaking pre into the sheets and throbbing almost painfully. The smaller creature gave a relieved sigh as a paw wrapped around him, lifting his hips into the air, supported by his knees as another curled around his member and squeezed it gently, earning his partner a grunt, followed by a screwing shut of eyes and pinning back of ears as the maned wolf's tapered tip pressed inside.
There was always a bit of struggle for the first few inches of his lover's shaft. It stretched him wide, but he never seemed to loosen. Soon enough, though, the larger man was rocking his hips carefully, working his member in slowly, inch after inch, until his swelling knot pressed under Toby's tail.
The pair panted, just out of sync as Jace continued stroking his boyfriend's shaft, kissing and licking at the nape of his neck as he slowly withdrew, only to caresfully push back inside. He was a gentle lover, never wanting to see his partner harmed, physically or emotionally. It was enough, though, that slow withdraw and re-sheathing in that warm vice that was Toby's body. He stroked in time, down to his lover's throbbing knot every time he hilted, and all the way up, rubbing over that tender crown as he withdrew.
The pair continued for some time, despite the ringing doorbell from the shop below and the angry sounding pounding at the door. This was no quickie to be interrupted. The pair was making love, and they weren't about to let someone come between them, especially as Jace forced his still growing, latex covered knot into Toby's rear and began rolling his hips languidly, making his shaft grind over Toby's prostate.
It didn't take long for the little fox to finish, between the firm pressure on the gland deep inside him, and the pulsing grip at massaged his knot. He splattered the grey sheets with his milky white seed. The spasm made his innards ripple around his lover's shaft, squeezing and milking it, until the maned wolf could last no longer, filling the condom he wore before wrapping both arms securely around Toby's waist and rolling over. After all, nobody wanted to lay in the wet spot.
The pair stayed that way for some time, with Toby impaled on Jace's swollen knot. Not that he minded. He liked cuddling in close with his big boy. After a while, though, that bulb of flesh did shrink, and the pair parted, pulling on their respective pants before wandering downstairs, Toby more carefully than Jace, for obvious reasons, leaving their spent condom tied off in the trash can upstairs. Before they opened the door, they shared a smile and another warm kiss.
"I love you, Foxie. Happy anniversary."
"I love you, too, you tall bastard. And there are many to come."
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Please comment. This is the first I've written in some time, and I'm feeling kind of rusty.