In His Rags
#32 of Roman Life
The rottie is all alone with his thoughts, back home.
Art by
Hey everyone!
I'm back from my holidays (unfortunately), which means I had time to write something, and this something is the new chapter of Roman Life! Change of PoV now, we are going to see how the rottie is faring so far. Hope you will like it and show it with a vote, a fave or a comment!
This time around, the story wasn't edited by
"You should take my offer and join me, Xena." The dark-furred panther purred sensually, circling around the warrior princess leather-clad.
"I will never join you, Marte. You don't have anything I want, I'm not the person I used to be." The tall wolfess growled at him with contempt and despite clear on her muzzle.
"That blonde scaredy cat changed you so much? The bloodthirsty Xena is still in that gorgeous body of yours, don't deny it." The god taunted her, his eyes full of desire and lust for the princes of Amphipolis.
"Olympia1is the most important fur to me, I won't exchange her for a mad deity!" Her growl grew louder, a paw darting to grab the chakram on her hip, her battle cry raising from her throat.
"You go girl." Ale cheered weakly, even waving a fist in the air just to be silly. After zapping aimlessly for the whole morning, he had settled for a summer re-re-re-re-rerun of Xena; the rottie liked the show, it was funny and silly and, at times, moving, plus it was one hundred times better than any of the crap in the other channels.
It was amusing to watch Lucy Lawless, or her stunt woman, jump and wave her sword around, fighting her archnemesis/lover/friend/stalker, enough to stop the restorer to do any heavy thinking. He had thought of writing some of the article he wanted to submit to the prof, but that would have taken too much concentration and strength for a Saturday; even playing at videogames would have been too much in his present state.
And so he was there, incollato alla televisione2, watching an episode for the fifth time in his life, and just staying as blank-minded as possible. The heat had increased after Luca had left their apartment, forcing him to lose his shirt and remaining buck naked from the cintola in sù3; the muscular canine had considered going all the way and be completely naked, as he often did, but decided it was the case.
An itch appeared as if summoned by those thoughts and his paw moved to scratch it by its own, going inside his boxers to relieve his tan-furred lowhangers of that bothering; the tips of the fingers brushed the underside of them, with a move that had become automatic with the years.
That simple stimulation of his balls stirred some life in his junk, enough to make ithe pointy tip poke from its hiding place; the rottie stopped the scratching with a snort, taking his paw back to rest on the couch, surely musk-smelling from being in contact with his naughty bits.
Luckily, Ale did that just in time to have just a semi, which withered quickly when his attention went back the show. That treacherous tube of flesh didn't deserve to get a good treatment, the one that five fingers could give to a male, not after its terrible performance of late.
That was the main reason he didn't go further than his shirt; laying naked on the couch would have lead to some naughtily funny times, and that was something he didn't want now. Ale didn't understand what was going on with him, his dick was all too eager to spring in action when alone, and hadn't difficulties to bring the creamy end; he had tested it once back from Clara, the morning after.
Why was he having such difficulties with the true action? It didn't make sense, not at all. The sheppie was marvelous, and for sure one of the best he had ever met in the act of lovemaking, but somehow... When they were at it, he lost steam and didn't seal the deal.
"Olympia, I thought I was going to lose you." The New Zealand she-wolf was saying on the screen, peering in the deep, blue eyes of a yellow cat, paws intertwined with those of the petite female.
"You won't ever lose me, Xena." The other answered, her lips just centimeters away from the long muzzle of the warrior princess.
Snorting, the rottweiler turned off the TV, the deliciously homoerotic subtext of the scene not being enough to chase away what a simple scratch had brought to his mind. That was the last thing he wanted, but he couldn't fight it now, all the doubts and fears plaguing his mind.
"Merda4!" He shouted to the air, one meaty arm covering his eyes in desperation. The situation he was living was so horrible, and the worst part was that Clara was surely hurt as badly as him by that. It had been two weeks since the problem had appeared, too long, especially for a new relationship.
"What if she leaves me?" The canine whined loudly. He didn't want that, he wasn't prepared for that, the German Shepherd was too special to be lost!
Ale needed to find the source of the problem and eradicate it before it did serious damages to what he had with his ragazza5. In his mind he replied their encounters, what they did, how he had felt, both the first times and the recent ones, comparing them and thinking about what was different.
But there was no difference, they were just the same, with only one, little, shameful detail. His feeling for Clara had remained the same, he was sure of it, so the cause wasn't to be searched there. The rottie thought about what he had thought about when, well, he pleasured himself, and...
"Maybe..." He muttered, thinking of the mental images he had used when he had dates with Federica, la zampa amica6. It was usual stuff, the one he always used when at it... Nothing strange, only what he loved when he searched after a happy release... Though he had veered to some fantasies in particular, and...
"Roma Roma Roma/ core de 'sta città...7" Ale jumped, ears flicking, when Venditti started to sing suddenly, a vibration coming from the pillows on his right side. His phone was there, flashing and moving, alerting him of an incoming call, trying its best to lure him into answering.
He didn't need to look at the tweeting device, buzzing and jumping on its pillow, to know who was the caller. That particular tune had been picked for her after she dared to do it, and had stayed ever since; the anthem of their shared soccer team, the pride of Rome, was the perfect love song for them.
He didn't move from his position, his arm, thrown in surprise, returning to shelter his eyes. Ale had no intention to answer the call, not after he had started thinking, and angsting, and feeling bad inside. His dark mood was bad enough when it afflicted only him, he didn't want to infect Clara too; it was probably a stupid logic, but right now his head had lost any logic to brooding, which was usually what fueled the worse of choices.
The phone quieted down just before the repetition of the chorus, going back to its slumber with a marring red mark on his screen, testament of a missed call. The restorer promised himself to call back as soon as his funk retreated, already thinking of an excuse why he hadn't picked up. Probably he could say he had put his cellulare8on silent mode without noticing, something that might be believable to some extend; or maybe that he was in the shower, or busy with Luca, or...
Sighing, he got himself up, deciding that he had been laying on the couch for way too long now. There was a sweat spot in the form of his back there to testify about him being a lazy fuck; that was kinda disgusting, even for him.
Ale padded to the kitchen, deciding it was way past time to get something refreshing down his throat, else he would die of perspiration. Even while he crossed the living room and entered the smaller cooking place, his thoughts trailed after him, never leaving and making a wreck of his mind.
The cool light of the fridge welcomed him once he opened it, his eyes leering inside its metallic bowels to find a fit drink for him. For an instant, just for one, the dark-coated dog considered grabbing the bottle of wine sitting besides the tap water-filled one, and gulping down what remained of the blood-red liquid.
Growling, he shook his head and reconsider. Was he really that in the dumps to drink himself witless? That would have been a very bad idea, and an immature one too. The rottie extended his arm angrily, his paw encircling another bottle, one containing orange juice, slamming the fridge shut and getting rid of the cap.
He drank the somewhat bitter scented juice directly from the source, not bothering to search for a glass. It was against etiquette, and impolite, but he didn't care, not when he was alone and without anyone watching him; plus, if he had something, Luca would catch it even without drinking his germs, thanks to living together.
That brief thought reminded him that his best friend should be way into his tour by now. He was probably having fun with those three youngsters, roaming Rome and looking at its beauty, while glossing over its uglier side. Ale knew that the lupo was capable of doing that, he had helped him preparing his tour some times; he himself would probably make a good guide, if only he hadn't a short temper with ignorant people....
The Rottweiler didn't regret his decision of staying home. He knew himself and he could master any cheerful mood at the moment, and a silent, brooding Ale made really bad company; it was a day for laughter and jokes, not for complains and sadness.
Besides, it would have meant walking a lot, and that was something he tried to avoid when the sun was so merciless. No one liked a smelly rottie, his shirt glued to his body by the sweat, at the point that he could have walked bare-chested for how useful it was.
Taking the bottle with him, having sipped its contents while lost in his train of thoughts, he padded out of the kitchen, feeling a bit more himself after replenishing his body liquids. Maybe now he was in the mood for playing a bit, though at what game he didn't know.
Going back to the living room, he walked directly to the shelf where their most precious treasure were stored, a long line of casings being lined up orderly. He didn't want his improving mood to be shoot down by a girl from Bangladesh, do his eyes went past the various Call of Duty to the rpg zone.
It was peering through the various Final Fantasies that his mind was struck by the perfect idea. He needed a game were he could mindlessly slain something, maybe going in caves to kill unfortunate undead Nordic mummies...
The decision was made, Skyrim was the game chosen for the day; he still needed to finish many quests, and leveling, and exploring, so it wouldn't even be boring for him! His stub wagging slightly, he searched for the familiar black and silver chasing, but as much as he did that, it was nowhere to be found.
"Giusto!" Ale exclaimed, just moment before he gave up. Luca had borrowed the game to his brother some months before, but knowing, Valerio, the young wolf had probably given it back after a few weeks. He wasn't the kind of fur to enjoy an rpg for long, after all.
It was likely that his lupo didn't put it back, just throwing it somewhere in his room; after all, he was well known for his rare moments of untidiness. The muscular restorer considered calling his friend, but that would mean bothering him for something too silly; he was enjoying the hike, after all, no reason to ruin it. Plus, he could send him a messaggio9if the game didn't turn out!
Having found his new resolution, the canine put down the bottle on the low table in front of the couch, making his way to the wolfish sancta sanctorum to extract the object of his desires and lust. He didn't feel bad for breaking in, he was sure that his roommate would have done just the same if he had been nei suoi panni10.
The door wasn't locked, so he opened it with just a push, the somewhat small room welcoming him in without protest. It reflected Luca's personality, being a good combination of ordered chaos, like some bags he used to carry books and student papers on the floor, but no dirty clothes in sight. His table was a mess of things, but even if they didn't appear to be ordered, he knew that the wolf would panic if someone dared to change them of place.
Knowing that, the canine was careful to put back what he lifted in his quest, considering the desk the best place where to find the game; it could have been hidden under some documents from weeks, from all he knew. Aside from the usual mess of keys and fogli11of various nature, there was no trace of Skyrim, which moved the search to the rest of the room.
His eyes went up, past the photos hanged on the wall above the desk, to the shelves full of books and knickknacks . Ale lingered one second on a particular one, an old one depicting him and Luca in front of the Colloseo, one sunny afternoon of late September.
It was selfie, even if it had been taken way before the term was born, the wolf hanging the camero to take the photo, while his other arm was around his shoulder, in a friendly manner. He knew already knew he was gay, but surely he wasn't weirded out by that contact, like with Carlo; it had been nothing sexual in that embrace.
He took the photo from the wall, still gazing it with a smile, remembering those times. They had been nineteen, fresh out of liceo12, just starting the university but still not overcome by it; they had met the first day of lesson thanks to the tiger, though it had taken some days before they went out together.
The picture was their memento of that day, when they had gone to Via del Corso and walked until they reached the Colloseo. His big footpaws were screaming once he was back home, but the discomfort had been worth, since that was the day they really become friends.
The smile plastered on his muzzle resisted once he put back the photo in its rightful place, chasing away the bad thoughts and fears, a warm fire setting in his heart. He didn't know why such a little thing caused it, but that was the truth, and the rottie went back to his search, though the familiar case didn't seem to be up the shelves.
"Uhm, maybe he put it in the comodino...13" Ale wondered loudly, moving to the nightstand. He excluded the wardrobe because it would have been a weird place to stock videogames; the fact he wasn't eager to handle Luca's underwear and clothes played a good role in the decision, he admitted to himself.
Obviously it wasn't on the top of it, since the small light left only enough space for the books his friend was reading at the moment. They were quite hefty at that, too, considering the love the wolf had for verbose fiction; seeing them reminded him to buy an ereader of some kind for Christmas, else Luca would develop thicker arms that his by reading the stuff.
The first drawer hold some random stuff, medicines and tissues, an old watch, stuff that might be useful to have near in case they were needed during night time. In that, it was similar to his own nightstand, unsurprisingly enough.
The second one held some photos albums, aged from the look of them, the most recent dating to the lupo's high school years from the look of them. Ale couldn't resist and open one, a young, awkward looking version of his friend staring back at him, all gaunt from the growth sprout, he was sure. It was clearly Luca, of that there was no doubt, he looked just younger and... maybe sadder.
His curiosity was satisfied after growing through that album and looking at the evolution of the wolf, only one last drawer left to search. The rottweiler was almost sure the game wasn't there, and that it would be just a waste of time.
"Non c'è due senza tre14!" He exclaimed joyefully, pulling open the thing and looking at his contents. There was a bottle of some clear liquid, and some black Dvd cases, it seemed to him, but over them there were two tube of plastic, one black and one red, though they were not cylindrical, but in some odd shapes...
His paw acted without being commanded to, grabbing the bigger one and taking him up for a close inspection; it had one pointy end, and it curved down until it got suddenly wider to the other, a suction cup finishing under the somewhat round ball... What it could be...
"Fuck!" The rottie cursed when, finally, he realized what the object hovering just a few centimeters away from his muzzle was, quickly putting it back and closing the drawer with a loud bang. The blush felt hot on his cheeks, discovering such an intimate detail of Luca's life so embarrassing for the canine.
Was it normal do hide a... dildo in a drawing? Did his friend really shoved that up his...? The sudden questions made him feel weirdly, all over, in his mind, in his body; the rottie couldn't know what to think, how to think....
DRIIIIIIN DRIIIIIIN DRIIIIIIN
Translation:
1) In the Italian dub, Gabrielle, Xena's companion, was renamed with a true Greek name.
2) Glued to the television.
3) From the waist upwards.
4) Shit!
5) Girlfriend.
6) Federica the friend paw. It's a bad, bad pun, based on the fact the name Federica rhymes somewhat with "amica", which means friend.
7) "Roma, Roma, Roma/ heart of this city". Part of the official anthem of the AS Roma soccer team, Roma Roma, sung by Antonello Venditti.
8) Cellphone
9) Text.
10) In his rags. It's the Italian way of saying "being in his/her shoes".
11) Papers.
12) High school.
13) Nightstand.
14) There is no two without three. Italian equivalent of "Third time is a charm".