FSE

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Striped Candy

Chapter Seven

By Roofles

It was another long practice as Lars headed into the team locker room. The panther was one of the last ones in, covered in mud and grime from the day. Practice had been particularly rough today, the assistant coach wanting them to focus on their cardio over everything else. Something the panther had never been that great at. Lars hated cardio, there was a reason why the panther ended up as a front lineman instead of one of the leaner, quicker wide receivers.

Arnie Bakesman walked past him with that thought in mind, the cheetah’s locker just a couple down from Lars’s own. He was a lean, fit creature that was one of the other “star players” on the team. His speed was unmatched, being a cheetah. Yet, his endurance suffered because of it. While able to outrun anyone on the other team. Arnie couldn’t stay in the game as long as the coaches wanted. Something the media seemed to have missed.

Arnie was still one of the star players for that speed and was front page worthy even if he only played in the last quarter to get the most of it. While someone like Lars was stuck playing throughout the game without even a mention in a side article.

It was only thanks to Congo, the brutish tiger who was still in the shower, that made such a player really stand out. The tiger could throw farther than anyone else on the team. It was a matched made in heaven as far as the sponsors were concerned, showcasing them along with that “damn lion.”

The back of the panther’s neck fur stood up hearing Reggie’s voice. A surprisingly loud shrill of a voice, coming from such a large guy.

Reggie had been one of the few players that had gotten out of the cardio, instead doing a photo shoot off to the side while the team busted their asses. Whenever the Sabers showed up in town the news media were soon to follow. Like vultures over a corpse.

“That brunette on channel thirty-four.” Reggie was talking about the news anchor who had shown up today. “Slutty bitch was about to pop out of her top!” The lion just laughed loudly. Several of the others on the team followed behind him, out of the showers, butt naked.

“Please, she has nothing on my gal.” Arnie the cheetah said, Lars hearing it from over the locker. “Great being home again, get some sweet sweet lovin. She can’t keep her hands off me!”

“Weren’t you with that cheerleader just the other day, before we flew back.” One of the other players asked. The cheetah just laughed.

“Hey, what she doesn’t know…” Arnie grin lewdly. “Not like she’d leave me, either.” He flexed.

“Please, she’s only with you as long as she gets that green.” Reggie just teased, making the cheetah feel like a fool; Arnie blushing under his yellow fur cheeks. The other players laughed at his expense. Laughing as long as Reggie did and only stopped after he did.

Even the panther was embarrassed for the cheetah, despite it all.

Lars sharp eyes looked over at them as they walked by again. And he thought he was the faggot here. Bunch of naked fanboys following the lion into the front locker area, reserved for the lion; while the panther was stuck in the far back next to the showers with the creaky door, broken hinge locker. Fawning over Reggie in a close confined space, pushing up against each other as they slapped each other asses. Standing just a bit too close as they worked themselves up talking about the anchor woman some more.

The panther peeled the sweating socks off his paws. They clung to them tightly, forming around his toes and he let out a low groan as he finally managed to get the last one off. There was white fuzz on his heavy black paws and the panther rubbed one of them with a hand, wishing he had the luxury of using that human again for it.

The two of them, Jeff and Lars, hadn’t seen each other after the fight. Jeff had texted him about picking up the jacket he had left and when the panther dropped by to get it, the coat was hanging off the doorknob of the apartment. Apparently, Jeff hadn’t even had the time to stick around to give it to him.

Lars took off his jersey, unsure why the team wore them during practice. It was supposed to keep up the team spirit or some nonsense, Lars wasn’t sure. It was a muddy mess now and the panther just looked at the number on the back. The number meant nothing to him as he crumbled the jersey up, holding it tightly. Wanting to just throw it on the ground and walk out.

Instead he just wiped the mud off it instead.

The panther slipped by without a sound, not even drawing the attention of any of the others on the team. Even as a hulking jungle cat Lars didn’t make a sound as his heavy paw steps led him into the showers to wash the hardships of the day away. There was a misconception about cats and water. Big cats, like Lars, loved the water and he enjoyed standing under the spray. Feeling it run through his fur and down between his legs, into the drain and away.

The day was long over and the other players were already heading out, leaving only a few stragglers behind. Lars didn’t even notice the tiger in the corner until he turned the shower off, planning to head out himself finally. Lars hadn’t wanted to bump into any of the others after today, unsure he’d be able to keep his frustrations in check.

He even had half a mind to rub one out right there and then if he hadn’t spotted the flash of orange from the corner of his eye.

At the far end of the showers was Congo, the large tiger leaning against the side wall just staring at the tiled floor beneath him. The water continued to cascade down from above, hitting him square in the face, his broad head and shoulders soaked through as the football player just stood there. Naked and wet in the corner of the showers, alone.

Lars wasn’t in the mood for whatever was going on and figured he was just as sore and tired as the panther was. It had been a long day. His whole body ached. The coach didn’t let any of them leave until all of them finish, making the others (most the others) continue until the rest caught up. Which only made those who finished early, like Lars, hate the others on the team.

Great teambuilding exercise….

“We’re only as strong as our weakest link!” The coach had said. The fat asshole taking a seat after the long day himself. The heavy set lynx was coming into his years and couldn’t even stay on his feet throughout some of the longer games. There was a reason the assistant coach Chen, a caracal, was taking up all the slack.

Everyone on the team knew Chen was going to be taking the job by next year. It wasn’t official yet, but the old lynx was on his last legs. It was because of this Lars was convinced why he had become a total dick, practically abusing the team in practice. Spite.

Well, save for Reggie. The lion always ended up heading into the coach’s office half way into the game and the speculations going on didn’t seem to bother anyone else on the team. Which only annoyed Lars more. There wasn’t anyone on the team that didn’t see Reggie as some kind of saint, as if the lion had somehow pulled them single handedly from the bottom of the bracket. And thus, could do no wrong.

Lars just shook his head, dressing quickly, and heading out without a single word to anyone. There was no one here he could talk too. And as he got into his jaguar car, he knew there was no one around that would bother to listen either.

It was late and Lars ended up in a sleazy bar a few blocks from the stadium. He didn’t care, just sulking at the bar as he ordered a double tequila shooters with a lime spritzer. The panther licked the salt on the brim, sucked on the lime and took a shot. He then proceeded to suck the extra lime, lick the salt and take a shot. Just to mix things up in his boredom.

“Another.” He motioned without looking at the bartender.

Lars flipped his phone out, looking it over. Wondering if he should text someone. Jeff’s name came up and his thumb hovered over the call button, then decided against it. As he was now, what point was there in calling him. The human didn’t give two shits about some front lineman. A meaningless number panther.

“Another!” He said louder, with a bit of a growl. He shook his head. His gut gurgling as the alcohol landed in an empty stomach. Lars really needed to eat something. They weren’t allowed to eat during practice and other than breakfast, lunch and second breakfast he hadn’t really eaten today. “Never drink on an empty stomach, son.” Lars grumbled bitterly to himself, recalling his father’s words. It had been the last thing the old man had said to him before leaving him and his mother.

One sharp nail tapped the counter as he turned the shot glass upside down and slammed it onto the napkin that was provided for each. He shook his head before laughing loudly.

“Let me tell ya, about my day. Ya’ son of a bitch.” Lars just began loudly in the nearly empty bar. “First the ass hat of a coach, fucking dumbass. Can’t even stay on his two paws for more than five minutes without getting winded.” The panther took a drink of the lime spritzer to clear his pallet before order whatever the special was. He needed something in his stomach or whatever poor soul he crossed on his way home would be his next meal.

The panther only got more rambunctious as he drank, going on about the shitty day he had. Just letting out some much needed frustration, venting about it all to a skunk who could care less about it all. Still, the panther had money and kept ordering and he couldn’t turn down such a good costumer; it hadn’t been the first time some washed up loser came in and puked their problems on the bartender’s lap. It was practically in the job description for such a joint.

“Just shut up already!” It hadn’t been the skunk to say this, it was the bulldog at the other end of the bar. The canine wasn’t alone, him and his friend were watching one of the old box TV’s hung up on the wall. The basketball game from today was replaying.

“What did you say, drool face?” Lars glared daggers at the two, the cat’s nails digging into the counter.

“I can’t hear the announcers!” The canine growled back, drool slurping down from his hanging jowels and onto the counter. He quickly wiped it up, ignoring it after. “And it’s a glandular problem…”

“It’s ok man,” the bull terrier sitting next to him consoled his friend. “We’ve all been there.” He nodded, taking a moment of silence for the condition.

“Why do people always have to,” the bull terrier slurped his lips. “Have to mention it?”

Lars just rolled his eyes and went back to the chilly dog he had gotten. It was terrible, his stomach growling even louder as he forced every bite down. It was still better than nothing as he finished another drink.

The panther eyes looked over at the two dogs, then at the TV. The game had been from the other day and he recalled the score. For reasons his drunk mind couldn’t comprehend, he got up. Paid his bill and headed over there.

“Lynsk shoots a three pointer at the end.” Lars burped loudly, breath reeking of booze as he pointed at the screen between the two dogs. “Win the game in the last ten seconds.” The panther just laughed.

“Dude, the fuck is wrong with you!” The bull terrier got up at that, the more reasonable of the two unable to hold back after such a spoiler. “What kind of sick fuck does that!”

“I was waiting all god damn fucking day for this game!” The pit bull said, spraying a bit of spittle as he spoke.

Lars snarled at that, wiping his face off. “Say it, don’t spray it. Dog.” The panther just bared his fangs at the two smaller males.

“Outside!” The bartender got involved soon after one of the glasses were thrown against the wall. “I will skunk this whole place up, I warn you!” He threatened loudly. The three drunks seemed to be able to comprehend that much to stumble out into the alleyway and away from lethal skunk butt.

“Look, we can work this out. Just apologize.” The bull terrier tried to reason out. His friend wasn’t of such level head. Lars was the one to throw the first punch though.

The bull terrier went down hard, caught off guard. His reflexes dulled by the booze in his system. The pit bull didn’t miss a beat, waiting for a reason to jump the panther as it was. Shoving Lars right back into the wall and working on the panther’s gut with three swift punches. One right, one left and followed up with another right before Lars could collect himself. For a small guy, the pit bull had a lot of weight behind each punch.

Lars had to hold back from puking as one hit connected, hard, to his side. The panther’s nails sprung out and he had to clench his hand into a fist, nails digging into his own pad pads, as he brought it down on the pit bull’s head. It took three more hits to get the dog off him.

A fight was one thing. It was common grounds for different species to get involved in such things. As long as a human wasn’t involved, the media didn’t seem to give two shits about it. Or the police. So long as claws, horns or other natural defensives weren’t used. Then the lawyers would get involved and even if it was self-defense, the more “wounded” party seemed to always win the case.

Lars could taste blood as the other dog got involved. The panther spat to the side ducking under another drunken punch, grabbing the pit bull with one hand and practically tossing the smaller male into his friends.

The world spun for several seconds after that and Lars had to blink his eyes several time to reorient things.

“All ya’ fuckers got?!” Lars just laughed, wincing as he stood tall. Trying not to let the pain in his side show. Practice combined with that last punch had left him sore, his whole body hurting. Lars took a step forward, tail lashing quickly behind him. Teeth showing, fur standing up and the panther’s heavy chest rising and falling with each exerting breath he took.

“Dude’s fucking crazy.” The bull terrier helped his friend up and the two dogs tucked tail.

“Come back ya’ fucking pussies!” Lars shouted, stumbling as the alleyway they were in began to spin. He held the wall for support and soon enough hurled out his guts. The chili dogs somehow tasted worse the second time around. “Cowards…” Lars wiped his lips on the back of his arm. “Damnit,” he groaned holding the wall for guidance as he made his way out. Back towards where he thought he roughly parked.

The panther ended up crashing in his car for the night. There was no point going home to the hotel rented out for the team and after the day he had he just didn’t have it in him. Unlike the other players, he didn’t ever bother getting a place in town. Instead, sending most the money he earned, far less than some players, home to his family.

They had a deal with several of the local companies, getting endorsed by them. Lars never felt right getting things for free and ended up just getting his own place, away from any of the other players. At the moment he couldn’t recall where it was at. Or where exactly he was at.

And he had no problem staying where he was for the night, if it wasn’t for the cop across the street giving him a look. The human could barely see the panther, shrouded by the night in the dark parking lot. It would be only a matter of time until he came over though to check out the suspicious feline.

Lars wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone, let alone a cop…

And Lars called a good half hour later, using the phone in the jail. “Hey…”

“Lars, is that you?” Jeff sat up in the middle of the night. He turned the side lamp on, stifling a yawn as he blinked sleep from his eyes. “W-what time is it? Is everything ok?”

“Well…” The panther ended up admitting, dancing around the question until his time was almost up.

Jeff showed up at the police station nearly a half hour later. Lars had been stubborn until the end, not giving until after the police officer came snooping around. Half-blinding the drunk panther with his flashlight before ending up hauling the feline in after resisting arrest; or at least resisting the cop trying to get him to leave.

“Whatever happened to letting sleeping Panthers lie?” The panther shook his head following one of the other officers out from the back cell and towards the front to finish the paperwork. “And you won’t press charges…?” Lars ended up asking the clerk a bit stunned. After the day he was having he was surprised Jeff even picked up the phone.

“Usually just a night stay,” the tomcat behind the desk said. The feline was taken by the panther and wouldn’t stop staring at Lars’s chest and other well defined physical form. “But well, I pulled a few strings.” The tomcat slid Lars’s things back to him as the panther came around to the front. “I left something extra, in your wallet.” The tomcat purred in no more than a whisper as Lars took his things and left.

Looking over his shoulder once.

Lars opened his wallet up to find a folded up naked picture of the tomcat in what looked to be a harness; his number was scrawled on the bottom. The panther gave one final look over his shoulder to the skinny little twig of a feline still purring at him. Nothing but skin, bone and fur. Lars shuddered at the thought.

“Lars.” Jeff greeted him as the panther finally came out front. The human was waiting for a fight to start when he saw the feline again. Instead, the panther was trying to hide the bruised lip and cut up cheek. Jeff found himself running over with concern. “Shit, what happened to you?” He reached up.

The panther gave a low hiss at that, looking away. “It’s nothing.” Jeff still used his sleeve to try to clean the panther’s dried, caked blood on the side of that muzzle.

“You got into a fight?” Jeff tried to keep his voice down as the two quickly exited the police station, Lars not wanting to be seen by anyone there and get recognized. He was a bit disappointed no one other than the only feline in the station did however.

Just a numbered frontline man… that’s all he was. Nameless. No one even knew his Jersey number…

“It wasn’t like that.” Lars tried to explain as he went for the driver seat.

Jeff laughed at that, getting a look from Lars. “I’m driving.” The human just said, making it clear this wasn’t up for debate.

“I’m fine.” Lars tried again. The alarm on the car went off and the cat jumped, fur standing on end as his nails sprung out. It beeped twice and the alarm went off.

“Yeah. No. Not happening.” Jeff just laughed, his face relaxed as he touched the panther’s arm. “Lars, you called me.” Jeff just reminded the panther, making sure the feline knew exactly what position he was in here whether he liked it or not.

The panther couldn’t argue with that, ears folding back as he growled low to himself. He had to swallow his pride and get into the passenger seat. The panther lowered the seat back, pretending to sleep as Jeff drove them home. The car wasn’t designed for the feline and Lars was uncomfortable during the whole ride.

“Middle of the night and you’re afraid to be seen in a passenger seat?” Jeff tried to help Lars up the stairs to his apartment. The very stairs they had fooled around underneath. “Or is it just because a human was driving?” Jeff offered instead as Lars pushed past him heading up without accepting his help again.

“I don’t need your help.” Lars just said with a growl as Jeff caught up with him trying to help again.

“Yet, you called me.” Jeff just brought up, yet again. It was the cause for their very first fight. Lars had a terrible habit of accepting help from others.

The large panther stopped at that, looking down at him. His eyes seemed to glow in the dark of the stairs, turning into slits as he showed just the tip of his teeth. Jeff ignored him and walked right past. That made the panther’s tail flick.

They walked the rest of the way in silence and right into the apartment.

“You can sleep on the sofa.” Jeff pointed to it as he walked by, tossing his coat onto the back of it without a care in the world, heading into the kitchen.

Lars tail lashed to the other side, gritting his teeth. He had a bad headache from it all and was still starving. And now he was stuck on the sofa. He wasn’t sure why he was complaining, it was better than a jail cell. Lars just figured he needed to complain about something right now.

Jeff showed up the next second with a bag of ice in hand with some ibuprofen in the other.

“Take, uh…” Jeff had to read the bottle for the right dose for the panther and got out several pills. “This many, and put this on your face.”

Lars just looked at him.

“I don’t care.” Jeff said as if the panther had said something. “Just put it on your dumb face, take the pills and I’ll make you something to eat…” And just headed back into the kitchen.

Lars grumbled without a word, going around to sit on the couch and swallowed the pills in one large gulp. He just kept his head between his legs, sitting on the edge of the sofa without saying a word trying to make the world stop spinning.

He flinched as he felt the cold press of the ice pack against his face, looking over at Jeff who had come back over.

“It’ll take a bit for the oven to warm up… unless you want cold cereal instead.” He chuckled lightly. Lars didn’t say anything. “You don’t have to tell me about what happened. I won’t ask again.” He kept the ice pack against the panther’s swollen face. “You can at least let me help.”

“I won’t say thank you.” Lars growled back, not even looking over at him.

“I never said you needed too.” Jeff just gave a shrug in reply. “Doesn’t mean you can’t let someone help you out.”

“I’m not a pity case.” Lars pushed the bag away, giving him a bloodshot glare before looking back down at his feet.

“When did I say you were?” Jeff frowned at that, wanting to smack the panther over the head. He knew better than to aggravate him any more than Lars already was. “I came to help you tonight because I wanted too, nothing more. You were a friend in need.”

“Wasn’t in need. Only have been a single,” Lars winced holding the side of his head. Taking a moment. “Single night. At most…. In jail.” Lars finished with, frowning at the very thought.

“Right…” Jeff tried not to roll his eyes at that.

“I’ll pay you back for bail.” Lars finally just said as Jeff tossed the ice pack back and forth in his hands, thinking it all over. As if trying to decide how long he actually needed to stay in this apartment.

“There’s no obligation for you too.” Jeff didn’t want to mention that it had been the last cash he had in his bank for the week until payday.

“Shouldn’t have called in the first place…” Lars just grumbled bitterly, looking to the side once more. Feeling nauseous.

“Then, why did you?” Jeff just asked flat out. “Why call me? Why not… someone on the team! For example. Or family? Or, well, anyone!” Jeff had to keep his voice down, it was the middle of the night still. He had been woken up by Lars, who he hadn’t heard from in days, weeks now and Jeff had an early morning tomorrow.

Lars ear twitched, muzzle lifting up, tail lashing to the other side and before he knew what, Lars was yelling back at him. “Because who would fucking care!” And the panther snarled each and every word he said. “WHO would care? No one! The manager would rip up my contract the second he found out!”

“What about the team?” Jeff just pressed the issue.

“Who? Reggie?” And Lars laughed at that, regretting it as he nearly curled over and hurl at the pain and nausea that immediately followed it. Lars had to take a seat, head between his legs again until the apartment stopped spinning, yet again. Lars was getting sick, ironically, of this all already. Just wanted to crash hard and wake up for another shitty day. “Or that damn tiger?”

“You don’t even know Bruce!” Jeff wanted to wring the panther’s neck at that getting up this time himself.

“What?” Lars looked over at him. “I was talking about Congo.” The panther frowned though, recalling THAT tiger now.

“The fullback on the Sabers?” Jeff had to think it over, trying to recall which guy he was.

“Yeah. The guy with his fucking jersey hanging up, in your god damn room!” Lars groaned holding his head as he pointed right down the hall towards Jeff’s bedroom.

Jeff blinked at that. The jersey Bruce had gotten for the human during the first game they had gone too together was indeed hanging up on the wall in his room. It was one of his prize possessions after all. An actual signed jersey.

“Why does the jersey matter?” Jeff just tried to ask, to understand. Missing it altogether.

“Because you never asked for mine!” Lars glared at him. Tired, worn out, beaten up, drunk and bailed from prison. Tonight, was just not his night. “We were together for how long… and you never even asked…”

Jeff had to take another moment on that. “I… I didn’t think…”

“I had one in my car.” Lars just spat to the side, not caring anymore. “Was just waiting for you to ask. So, you could hang mine up in your room too… signed it and just,” the panther shook his head. “Just forget it. I’m out of here.”

“Lars, wait. Wait.” Jeff stood up. The panther didn’t get far. “Fucking shit, Lars just stop it!” Jeff finally just shouted. The panther was holding the wall. “For fuck sake, just enough! You always do this. Every damn time something came up you would just, “oh forget about it”, and march off! Or take off your pants…” Jeff had to admit. “You can’t just do that. You can’t just walk out or distract from the real issues.”

“Well it’s clear you don’t want me here.” Lars just snarled back.

“Then why did I pick you up? Why did I call a tow truck to pick up your car so nothing happened to it? Wake up in the middle of the night and go down to the police station in my bathrobe and slippers to get you!” Jeff tried not to yell back and failed. His face was a bit red, one hand clenched painfully tight as he was panting, worked up from it all.

Lars just growled, not meeting those eyes.

“Because you said… you need me.” Jeff shoulders faltered and he slouched a bit, unable to make eye contact with the panther either. “Maybe not in those words, just… you did. For once. For once since we’ve been together, you asked me for help. For once!” Jeff tried to stress as if to explain why he didn’t ask for the panther’s jersey or even to bring it up. He didn’t even know Lars’s jersey number. Which only made him feel more ashamed for ignoring something the panther had clearly been wanting to give him.

Lars looked over at him, the two not saying anything for a time.

“I’ll put the chicken tenders in for you.” Jeff just said giving him something to say, something to do as he headed into the kitchen to do just that. “Relax,” he called from the kitchen. “They aren’t seasoned. No additional anything. Raw, natural chicken. Just cooked enough that it’s not pink in the middle.” Jeff came around the corner putting the oven mitt down on the counter. “Just the way you like.” He added with a bit of a smirk, recalling the panther complain about it the first time he made them for the feline.

Lars didn’t say much at that, just going back to sitting on the sofa. Then lounging out over it with a low groan, tossing an arm over his face an just laying back waiting for dinner. His nose twitched and he lifted his arm up the next second as he felt Jeff rub over one of his legs.

The panther watched as Jeff rubbed one leg, then the other. Down to his big paws. Lars groaned at that, resting back and trying not to enjoy it as his tired, needy paws finally got the rubs they had been craving. It had been an exceedingly rough day for him and the musk coming off the panther told Jeff enough of that; even after the locker room shower the panther had taken.

The strong earthy scent made Jeff wrinkle his nose as he looked up at the panther’s face.

“I’m sorry.” Jeff said, always the emotional one. Lars didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at him. One ear batted and Jeff knew the panther had at least heard him. “I didn’t… ask for your jersey because I was, well, afraid frankly…”

The panther opened his eyes at that looking down at him.

“I didn’t want you to think that I was just… dating you,” Jeff struggled with the word unsure if they had been dating or not. “Dating you just because you were on the team. And that I was just using you to get something , like tickets to the games or jerseys or well anything… because I was a fan and you were a player.” Jeff stopped at that looking at one of the big paws he had been rubbing. “Or that I was just even hanging out with you because you were on the team.” Jeff tried not to let the tears show.

“Because you were…” Lars said, reading Jeff’s face.

The human shook his head. “It wasn’t like that!” He said a bit too loud, taking a moment to calm down. “It’s not like that. It was just a… happy bonus, on top of it all. You were great. And fun. We had a lot more in common than you’d ever admit,” Jeff chuckled lightly. “The fact you were a Sabers player was just… the cherry on top of the cake.”

Lars didn’t say too much about that. About any of it as he lay there staring up at the ceiling now as Jeff just continued to rub his paws and over his sore, tired legs. The panther groaned softly as his eyes closed.

It was only when Jeff stopped did Lars sit up, watching the human go to check on the food before coming back a good five minutes later with said food. The human set it down on the small coffee table in front of the sofa and joined Lars on it as the panther sat up to eat.

Jeff crossed his arms in his lap.

“Bruce and I slept together.” He abruptly just admitted.

Lars stopped with one chicken tender half way in his muzzle. His teeth snapped it clean in two as he munched it into mulch as he looked over. “Why tell me that?”

“Because. You deserve to know…” Jeff just told the truth.

“I see…” Lars ate another one whole, licking his fingers off. “How was he…”

“Not as good as you.” Jeff just chuckled lightly. “But that wasn’t why I slept with him.”

“Thought you said he was asexual or whatever.” Lars cut in, a growl creeping into his voice as he ripped apart another chicken tender.

“Well… he is. It was just physical more than well, anything else. I guess?” Jeff shrugged a shoulder, then sighed. “I love him.”

Lars muzzle twitched at that. “I see…”

“He’s just… yeah.” Jeff kept his hands folded in his lap. “I’m sorry, I didn’t really know I did until, well yeah…”

“Yeah, it was rather clear to the rest of us.” Lars said a bit bitterly.

“We’re like together now, but not… it’s complicated?” Jeff just shook his head. “Nothing in life is simple.” The human looked over at him. “And I’m sorry for what happened, with us.”

Lars didn’t say anything to that.

“You were being a close-minded dick that wouldn’t talk to me.” Jeff brought up, trying to almost lighten the mood with a joke. Lars didn’t even crack a smile at that. “And, just… I wasn’t trying to figure this all out myself.”

“I don’t like him.” Lars finally just said.

“What?”

“He’s all wrong for you.” Lars just growled now.

“How?”

“Well, the obvious fact he’d never be able to satisfy you.” Lars gestured over at the bedroom.

“Like you could?” Jeff did smile at that as the panther finally break his cold exterior to let a smile slip past.

“Well…”

Jeff put a hand on his thigh. Rubbing it lightly. “You were always good in the bedroom, yeah.”

“Only good?” Lars added with a playful growl.

“Ok, you were the only man to ever make me orgasm three times in one night! Are you happy now?” Jeff laughed.

“A little.” Lars looked down at the hand on his thigh. “Jeff…”

“I’m sorry.” Jeff just said once more, looking at the panther.

“I am too…” Lars choked out himself.

“It’d be nice to, like… start fresh.” Jeff said hopefully but knew better.

“Well, I rather not have you forget about our lusty fun loving nights of hot, steaming, claw scratching nights…” Lars left it open ended as he adjusted himself, grunting a bit. “Fuck, can’t believe you’re getting me worked up.”

“I think you’re getting yourself worked up, bud.” Jeff chuckled lightly. “If you like, you can sleep in my room tonight.”

“Where would you sleep?” Lars asked stupidly looking at him. Jeff gave him a look. “Oh… What about that tiger…”

“Well.” Jeff got up with a stretch as he cleaned up the plates. “It is an open relationship.” He added with a wink heading into the kitchen before towards the bedroom.

The panther followed behind at that.

“And, uh, he won’t mind…” Lars was already taking his pants off as the bedroom door shut behind him.

“Bruce and I have an… agreement.” Jeff only shrugged looking at Lars, over that firm chest and down before back up. He smirked though. “I said sleep, not sleep with.”

Lars frowned a bit at that.

“We’re reconnecting, can’t just jump into the sack.”

“Well, we could actually…” Lars just argued instead.

“Lars, come on. You were in prison!”

“Jail, actually. It’s different.”

Jeff rolled his eyes. “Semantics or uh whatever.” He chuckled at that and took a seat on the bed.

“You fucking cock tease.” Lars just growled in annoyance. “I’m all bent up and you just…”

“Bathroom is first door on the right.” Jeff told him as if the panther hadn’t been here before. “Try not to use any of my roomies socks, he gets pissed when I do that.” Jeff just teased further with a smirk.

Lars glared at him before just stripped his shirt off and stomping over. Siting on one side of the bed, the whole shifting at the weight before laying down.

“I can’t promise I won’t rape you in the morning.” The panther snarled a bit closing his eyes.

“Good night to you too, dude.” Jeff turned off the light sliding under the sheets and moving over next to the panther. Lars grumbled at that, easing onto his back. Then felt Jeff kiss his cheek. “Good night Lars, I’m glad your ok…”