FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Dark and stormy nights are the things of storied clichés, but tonight was just one of those nights where you had to deal with it or else you'd never get home. At least, that was Jim's thoughts on the matter. The words that felt too disgruntled about the weather were drowned out in the rain and loud thunder as he drove down the back road towards his house. He'd have taken the freeway home, but the rain had already washed out nearly fifteen feet of the badly maintained freeway. Jim had always said that the incompetent morons in the government would never get around to fixing the holes in the road before the weather washed it away, and he hated to be right about this now.

He felt the tingling need in the back of his brain, tickling his skull as the neurons fired a bit back there, moving forward increasingly to his mouth before licking his bear muzzle a bit and reaching down to fumble with a cigar he kept between the seats. It was a bad habit, of course, and Jim had been trying his very best to get rid of it for the last thirty years or so, but damn it he loved the relaxation that they gave him. He felt that need creeping into his whole body, and he couldn't resist it.

The rain was so heavy that he couldn't even see over the steering wheel five feet or more even with his high beams on. He hoped that the rain would be generous enough to let him get home okay. Working all day, even a bit after he was expected to leave, was not unusual for him anymore. He rarely had any free time, and Jim blamed this lack of free time as the reason that he had not kicked his cigar habit, or his love for whiskey, and certainly it was the reason he hadn't lost more weight on his diet and exercise regime he'd set up. He was tired; exhausted really, as he felt like he'd been running a mile on his arms all day long. The bear was big and strong, of course, and he'd probably been able to lift one of those cars in the shop if he'd been twenty years younger, full of boundless energy and drive. Lately, however...

Jim found the cigar finally, putting it to his maw and searching his shirt pocket for the clipper he kept close at hand. He pushed the car lighter's button to get it warmed up, ready for his smoke now, and waited while he fished for the clipper. That one, luckily, didn't take too long to find, and he simply snipped it while he drove. In the thirty years or so that he'd been interested in cigars, he'd smoked for nearly all of that time period, and had thus gotten good at being able to light it with one paw, even while driving. The thought clicked in his head, and he chuckled a bit, his voice laden with a growling undertone, "You're too good at this, ya big, ol' bear."

The lighter clicked in its holder, ready to go, and Jim reached down to take it to light his cigar. When he realized that he would probably get soaked just cracking the window down, the logical restraint of his mind clicked into place, and he realized that it would be a better idea to just wait until he got home. He sighed a bit, feeling half of his brain screaming for it, and the other half badgering him to just simply wait. He let the lighter sit where it was, holstered in place, and then just put the cigar in his shirt pocket with the clipper. He'd wait. It would be easier that way. Maybe the radio would distract him from his need, the big bear thought to himself as he reached over to flick it on, the station set to a classical station, low in frequency on the dial, but high in content. The station itself was just a step below satellite radio with its incredibly long stretches of musical blocks. Sometimes, they played whole symphonies before cutting to commercial, and on holidays they played exclusively one particular artist all day. Jim was justified in relaxing as the tunes came through the speaker to his ears. It wasn't a cigar, but it was still relaxation.

There was a flash of lightning and Jim saw something on the side of the road, walking along it, head tucked down into a denim jacket. He slowed down next to the creature, feeling like he would just kill himself if he didn't stop to pick up the creature walking down the road in a storm like this. He honked the horn generously as he got close so that the creature would be able to know he was coming. He silently thanked the lightning for showing him this with its light; without it, he'd have probably sped past without even seeing the poor thing.

The denim-jacket-clad animal stopped, looked over at the car as it approached, staring down the headlights. Jim noticed it was a young wolf, no older than a pup really, if even that, but he was cold, soaked to the bone, and visibly shaking even from the inside of the car. He reached over, unlocked the passenger door, and the wolf looked at the door a bit confused. Jeez, Jim thought, just get in already. Get out of the rain so we can get you someplace warm and cozy.

He opened the door at last, clambering into the seat even as the door instantly became soaked. The wolf was a golden color, his underbelly black as the night, but he was sopping wet and visibly resisting the urge to shake himself dry inside the car. Jim couldn't help noticing the wolf didn't wear any shoes. That wasn't unusual for furries, many of them went shoeless in his shop and Jim himself went shoeless quite often, but the mud that reached almost halfway up his khaki colored cargo pants was quite unusual.

"Thanks." The wolf mumbled shyly as he looked to close the door. Jim found a smile forming at the corner of his lips, unable to resist the wolf's kind word. "The rain is pretty strong tonight."

"Anytime," Jim replied as he started off down the road again. They would be home in a few minutes, but he was pretty sure that the wolf would be staying with him for at least the night to stay out of this weather. "So where are you headed off to in such bad weather, anyways?"

The wolf was silent. He just simply said, "Anywhere but home." The way his tone sounded made Jim think without a shadow of a doubt that this wolf probably didn't have a home. "I'm going your way, I guess."

"Well, that's fair. Actually," Jim said with a testing pause, to see if the wolf would look his way. He didn't yet, "it's great because I was taking you back to my place regardless. The weather's far too bad for me to be driving around. The freeway got washed out already, so it'd be best to just get home and not worry about travel until the rain is over." He still didn't have the wolf's face to look at, so he added, "It's a good thing too, I guess. I'd have missed you if not for that fact."

The wolf only let out a noise from his throat for an agreement, something not quite a growl or grunt, but more considerate. He still didn't look at the bear, and it was almost like a strip tease to Jim. He at least wanted to see the face of the hitchhiker he'd just picked up. "It is a good thing. So you live all the way out here?"

"I don't live all the way out here. It's just the only other road I know that will take me back to the suburbs." Jim said with a bit of a grunt in his voice that he didn't even realize he'd made until he thought back on it. The wolf was silent at that, "Do you live out that way?" He asked, testing to see if his suspicions were correct.

"No. I live nowhere."

"Pretty cold thing to say about your home," Jim said with a frown replacing the small smile he'd had just moments ago.

"You mistake me, then. I don't have a home anymore." When he said this, the bear cringed a bit, and he felt his gears grating when the wolf added, "Even in this day and age, homophobia is apparently more than enough reason to throw a pup like me out on the street. I don't even believe that it's a big deal, but you know how it is."

"No, I don't." He'd come out to his parents after he'd graduated high school, but he wasn't even gay. Not that it stopped people from assuming bisexual meant gay just because you were dating a guy. He'd settled the dispute once and for all about ten years back when he'd tried to settle down and get married to a nice lioness. That had lasted a couple of years, but his increasing work load had strained the marriage. The night he'd found out she was leaving, he'd been lucky enough to hold back his anger, but she had taken only her things and left his life entirely. He'd been on an abstinent stretch since then.

The wolf wasn't pleased to hear this. "Well, if you're going to bash me like they did, I'll just get out of the car-"

"You'll do no such thing because I'm not going to do any such thing." Jim growled a bit, asserting a bit of dominance in his voice. He almost felt like a parent scolding his child, something Jim had had with his lioness back in the middle of their relationship. That was one of the things she claimed as hers when she left. Now he never even saw the kid and any chance he got to see Grayson ended in either work blocking their time or his ex-wife refusing to uphold the custody agreement. He'd never say he hated his kid, nor would he disrespect Grayson for thinking lowly of him, which Jim was sure Grayson didn't, but he was also only seven and according to his mother, he didn't need a father yet. Which was complete bullshit but-

"All right. Well, thanks for the ride." The wolf interrupted, quickly quelling all of Jim's thoughts, "I'm Wolfie, by the way. Wolfie Braxton."

"Jim." He said with a short response. He never gave out his last name anymore, not when his ex-wife ran around dissing it wherever she could to whomever she could get to listen, "It's nice to meet you Wolfie."

"You too," Jim heard Wolfie respond as they finally turned off the dirt road onto the paved street that eventually ended in the cul-de-sac that was home for him. "So, Jim, you work anywhere around town? You seem familiar."

"Well," he replied with a bit of that smile returning. He'd not seen the wolf's face yet, but at least friendly conversation was being had now, "I'm a mechanic down at Fix 'N Go. You know where that is?" Wolfie gave that considerate grunting noise again, but he shook his head, "It's over on Forest Lane and just about a block from Lakeview." Wolfie didn't even react, "Been interested in cars all my life, probably been working there longer than you've been alive."

"You look good for a bear, then." Wolfie said, and even though he meant it sincerely, Jim could easily see that, the words sounded a bit underhanded, "Most bears I know or have met... well, over forty they go downhill kind of fast."

"Most of them probably don't work out like I do." Jim thought to toss in a cheeky joke, "I like lifting the cars myself and fixing them with one paw behind my back." Some days, it did feel like that.

"Ha ha," Wolfie laughed a short bit and he looked over at the bear for the first time. Jim got a good look at his face under the halogen streetlamps as they passed by them. "You are funny." Wolfie's face, however, was anything but funny. Golden fur didn't hide the massively swollen nose or the fully-closed black eye he had. Blood had been washed away by the torrent of rain, but Jim was certain Wolfie had been bleeding earlier from those hits.

With deep concern, he asked, "Did your parents do that to you before you got kicked out?" Wolfie, flush with embarrassment, turned away and sighed. Jim shook his head a bit as he saw the cul-de-sac appear up ahead. The rain was lessening a little, but it could have also been the reduction in speed of the car as they slowed too, "Homophobes with violent tendencies. I don't see how anyone can have a kid that they don't love just because of one thing, one 'flaw' their kid has. It's an outrage."

"And they are in the right because they're the parents." Wolfie said with a dismally despairing tone in his voice. He sounded ready to cry.

"I think that you're not totally wrong about that. It sure seems like the court system takes the parents over the kids in most cases. However," Jim cleared his throat and then continued, "I think they don't look very kindly on physical abuse like you have suffered. I'd take them to the end of the world if it meant justice."

"Yeah, well I'm broke and homeless. I couldn't afford a lawyer if I walked into Schuler and Sons and begged on paw and knee." Wolfie almost sounded snappy, but Jim was able to forgive him, considering the circumstances. Jim was a very firm, very tough bear, but he knew how to be fair, how to be reasonable. Grayson hated his father when he punished him but he was the best dad in the world any other time. Typical for any seven year-old, but it always made Jim smile when Grayson did too.

"I don't mind going up there with you. We'll get down on paw and knee together." Jim smiled, hoping that it would make Wolfie smile too.

"You wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't I?"

"You just met me." Wolfie said, protesting a bit, "You have no reason to do that kind of thing."

"I took you off the road back there in the middle of a hellish downpour." Jim noted, "I could have just as easily dumped you out of the car by now if I didn't care enough to take you to a warm home."

Wolfie nodded once, but only once, and then frowned, "Fair enough. All right, you win. But I still don't think you'd actually do it."

"You'll be surprised what this ol' bear is capable of." Jim chuckled as they arrived in the driveway of Jim's classic Americana-style house. It was one of those near-stereotypical two-story houses. Small front lawn that led to a covered front porch, wooded siding painted a placid blue, and modest windows to let in just enough light during the daytime. Wolfie was unimpressed by the house; it wasn't very impressive, but it was cozy, comfortable, and homely. To be honest, it was much more inviting than the last house he'd lived in.

"After you," Jim said once they'd reached the front porch. Just from the short walk from the car to the front door, which was held open by Jim for Wolfie, both were soaked in the torrential downpour.

Wolfie blushed a bit and smiled, allowing himself to enter the big bear's house ahead of his host politely. The inside of the house was remarkably unordinary except for a few notable items like the aged wood décor and the clear Bruins fan that Jim was with his supporting memorabilia located throughout the house. There was even a commemorative helmet sitting on the fireplace mantle, something that Wolfie momentarily distracted himself with to make sure it was truly authentic, though he never touched the helmet himself.

"So what do you think?" Jim asked as he entered, closing the door behind him and looking around the den himself as he dried himself of as best as he could with a hanging jacket by the door. He didn't care how soaked the jacket got; he was going to have to change clothes into something drier anyways.

"It's homely." Wolfie said in that tone that would have sounded insulting if not for the fact his intentions were genuinely complimentary. He looked back at the old bear and smiled a bit. "I'm surprised we've never met before. You live on the same side of town as me. I'm... well I was over on Apple Road."

"I used to pass that way on my route to work before they put the freeway in." Jim said with a bit of a dismissive, if agreeable tone. "Now then, would you like some dry clothes or some warm soup, pup?" Jim hadn't even realized he'd said the last word until he saw Wolfie's tail wag happily.

"Sure." He said with a smile still plastered to his face, "I'd love something warm to drink too. I mean, if that's ok." Wolfie added after a moment, "Thanks again for all of this."

"It's no problem. I'm happy to make you feel safe and at home, given the circumstances." Jim said with a happy smile to match Wolfie's. He had a feeling things were going to be amazing between the two of them, and part of his brain told him that Wolfie wouldn't be leaving tonight, or even tomorrow. Wolfie would be staying for some time. And Jim was okay with that.

Jim woke up every morning as he always did, bright and early, and stretched a bit feeling his body groggily trying to catch up with his mind's alertness, though to be fair neither wanted to leave the bed any. The night had been good to Wolfie, Jim had made sure of that, as he'd been fed, showered, and his wounds tended to, all while Jim relaxed with a cigar and some whiskey, something Jim found that the wolf actually liked watching him do. He'd encouraged Jim more than once to just keep smoking and drinking, more than he would have allowed himself had Wolfie not been there last night. The effects were a bit obvious; he wasn't drunkenly hung over, but his belly seemed snugger to the night shirt he wore. He'd have to seriously work that off after Wolfie left.

He smelled pancakes or waffles wafting to him from downstairs. The rich, floury, buttery smell combined in his nose to make the bear climb out of the safety of his bed and trudge downstairs to see what was going on. Surely Wolfie wasn't cooking him breakfast? He'd hoped that he wasn't at least. That would put Jim at a serious disadvantage socially because he would then feel obligated to do another good deed for his guest.

Sure enough, down in the kitchen as he expected, Wolfie was finishing up a mountainous stack of pancakes, finding his syrup (Jim always went with the genuinely expensive stuff because it lasted longer being real maple syrup and not some high fructose rip-off) up in one of the cabinets and getting it down. Coffee had not been made, but there was some orange juice sitting in a glass on the table where Jim took a seat.

"What's all this now?" Jim asked, nearly startling the wolf as he jumped and turned around with a gasp. Jim chuckled deep in his chest, a growling rumbling sound as he added, "Oh, and good morning to you."

"Good morning Jim." Wolfie replied as he blushed, feeling like he'd been caught in the act of something devious. "I was just making breakfast for you so that you could see how gracious I was for what you did last night for me."

"Smells fucking delicious," Jim nodded agreeably. Wolfie's blush only stained more of his face a dark crimson, "No sausage or bacon though?"

Wolfie shook his head, "Would you believe me if I said you didn't have any?"

"That's ridiculous. I always have-" and then Jim remembered his diet plan had made him throw those meats off his grocery list so he would more easily lose some of the weight he'd been packing on. At the time, Jim had agreed that the greasy meats had been a number one cause of his gut being so large; he enjoyed his morning meaty breakfast as much as the next bear and then some more. "Oh, I forgot I stopped buying it when I went on my diet."

"It's okay Jim. Just sit down and have yourself some breakfast while I clean up." Wolfie set the syrup by the plate of pancakes, stacked nearly to Jim's face. Jim assumed Wolfie had just used the whole box of pancake mix, and even though Jim was a hefty bear, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to eat all of this in one go. Wolfie was already busy scrubbing dishes clean as Jim stared down at his food and contemplated eating it. "I wanted to surprise you, but I guess I'm not as subtle as I want to be, huh?"

"It's quite all right, Wolfie. I'm surprised enough." Jim took a sip of his juice and felt his head spin immediately. Was there booze in his drink? He never had booze at breakfast. Before he could speak though, his belly roared loudly for more to fill it, food or drink, as one sip of a tequila sunrise wouldn't be enough to start the day. He patted his belly, noticing how bloated it felt, and cautiously began to dig into the food.

"I was thinking..." Wolfie began as he finished up the dishes and turned back to Jim, "Where do you keep your cigars? You might like one after you finish eating. I always heard that smoking after a big meal eases digestion and reduces bloating."

Jim chuckled again, forking a big piece of the first pancake into his maw and chewing it down, swallowing before he moaned a bit with pleasure. These pancakes were so fluffy and thick! It was like heaven on Earth. How the hell did Wolfie know how to make them so good? "Wow, this is... this is really good." He exclaimed with no hint of surprise in his voice, "Thank you Wolfie."

"No problem." He took a seat at the table, his big puppy dog eyes seeming to just pop out of his head, wanting attention or approval for something he did and getting it now as he watched Jim eat. "You didn't tell me where the cigars are though. I think one will do you nicely after you finish eating."

"They're in the humidor in the den. You saw me with it last night." Jim explained, ravenously tearing through the pancake stack now. Had he been animated like a cartoon character, the whole stack would appear to be a waterfall flowing upwards into his maw, punctuated occasionally by the hard drink he sipped from to help gulp the fluffy pancakes down. He couldn't stop himself, and even as his logical brain told him to stop so that he could stay with his diet, he felt a different part of his brain tell it no, fuck off, this is my choice. When he looked back up to look at his guest, he saw the humidor sitting on the table about a foot ahead of his plate, staring at him longingly as the top had been opened, all of his cigar pleading to be smoked. Jim's brain felt funny due to the drink, but he knew he wouldn't be able to resist just one this morning, even though he never smoked this early. He wanted his habits controlled, not addictive.

Regardless of his thoughts, in almost no time flat Jim had reached the end of his stack of pancakes and the bottom of his glass, but he felt very bloated inside. He reached over to grab a cigar, going through the motions to prepare it and then light it, and no sooner was the thick, acrid smoke in his maw, settling smoothly on his tongue and relaxing him deeper than he usually was in the morning, than he felt Wolfie's paws at his gut, rubbing and massaging a bit to help the bloated feeling dissipate. Jim growled happily in response, letting out a thick cloud of cigar smoke into the air as he looked down.

His gut had distended greatly, he realized, almost as if everything he'd eaten had instantly converted to fat, and it sagged low in his lap, soft and not as firm as he'd always maintained it. Jim couldn't believe how the belly he'd known for years had changed in just one meal almost as if by magic. The pecs he had sagged lower onto his stomach, and even his usually defined arms and legs, from what he could now see of them, seemed softer too. He was faintly aware of a double chin behind his beardfur. Somehow, though, he couldn't stop himself from smoking the cigar, and almost alarmingly, the logical part of his brain that screamed for this to all stop and to go back on his diet died with each breath of smoke he let from his maw.

Wolfie kept rubbing softly at his gut, and Jim patted his head a bit, an almost paternal patting gesture, as he put the cigar in the corner of his maw, "You planned for this didn't you?" He asked as he growled down at the wolf.

Wolfie simply nodded a bit and wagged his tail, "I've been looking for a big guy for a while. A bear of a man, if you will. One who will rescue me from my life, then make him bigger and lazier, and then let him do the same to me. I knew it as soon as I saw you last night Jim. I wanted you to be that bear. And now, well, it looks like we're on our way."

Jim wasn't sure how to feel about all of this, but regardless he did like it. Hell, he loved feeling heavier, softer all over, and he sure loved smoking and drinking as much as he had been lately. He felt Wolfie's words ringing true a bit in his own head; he could be like a Papa Bear to this wolf, who was already orphaned by his parents as it was, and he liked the thoughts even more.

"What do you say, Jim? Want to be my big, fat, lazy Papa Bear and teach me everything you know?" Wolfie asked as he smiled a bit, those puppy dog eyes irresistible. Even if Jim had wanted to find an argument to say no at this point, he couldn't when he saw those eyes.

"Sure, pup. I'll be your Papa Bear." He growled out around his cigar, loving the smoke as it clouded around him and Wolfie, "On one condition, though."

Wolfie's tail wagged eagerly and Jim saw he would be willing to do anything, "Yes, Papa Bear?"

Jim could only smile a bit as he let out a drag from his cigar, "You get to do a lot more cooking from now on."