FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

September 1967

Tracy waited patiently as Roy unlocked the apartment. He followed the big bear through the door, “Thanks so much for letting me spend the… Whoa!!! This place is huge!"

Roy seemed a bit embarrassed. “Well, a bear needs room to spread out. You should have seen my first apartment. It was a tiny studio. The bedroom was so small, I barely had enough space to squeeze between my dresser and my bed."

Tracy took it all in from the doorway. The living room was indeed huge, dominated by a sunken floor in the center. Three sides of the pit area were rimmed with comfortable-looking seats, forming a U-shape. The wall on the open end of the U was paneled in wood accented by natural stone, including a stone fireplace. That wall also featured a built-in television set and several bookshelves. All of the wood surfaces were stained a warm color that looked about as one might expect from a bear. The seats and carpeting were a relaxing forest green. Centered above the pit hung a contemporary chandelier, looking more like a mobile than a lighting fixture. A hi-fi stereo cabinet sat to one side. Curious, Tracy opened the lid.

“Albums are on the shelves underneath." Roy offered, “Put something on, if you want."

Tracy opened the cabinet door and found a sizable collection of LPs. Roy clearly had a taste for classical music with a few jazz and blues albums thrown in for good measure. There was no sign of rock and roll which was all O.B.R.R. ever played on the stereo in Tracy's apartment. He said, “I think I'd prefer a little quiet. Besides, I wouldn't know what to play."

“You kids!" Roy winked at Tracy in a playful way. “I'm going to have to introduce you to some real music. Hey, can I get you anything? I've got some wine. I even have some tea bags…"

“Yeah, some hot tea would be great. Thanks, Roy."

Roy disappeared into the kitchen. Tracy could hear the sound of water filling a teapot, followed by an exclamation from Roy, “Oh, crud! I just remembered. I'm out of sugar. Is honey okay?"

“Yes, thank you."

“So polite," said Roy as he passed through the living room, “Hey, excuse me for a minute while I change clothes."

“Take your time," replied Tracy as he wandered over to inspect the items adorning Roy's shelves. There was a small collection of books that included a cookbook, a travel guide to Europe, several spy novels, and a thick electronics parts catalog. There was a baseball that bore an illegibly scrawled autograph sitting beside a worn baseball glove. There was a trio of carved wooden figures: a feral elephant, rhino, and giraffe. On the next shelf, a set of three matching frames was impossible to ignore. One contained a First Class Radio Operator's license. The other two held photographs.

Tracy inspected the first photo. It was a black-and-white candid of a bear couple whom Tracy could only guess were Roy's parents. They were apparently at some kind of gala. Roy's dad (yes, the eyes were unmistakably the same as Roy's) was wearing a shirt and tie with pleated pants while his mom wore a low-cut party dress. The two of them were laughing and embracing each other in an exaggerated hug. Behind them, on a dance floor, couples of varying species were frozen in a timeless Lindy Hop. Beyond the dancers, a double row of musicians, led by a squat panda, could be seen behind a set of old-fashioned band stands emblazoned with the letters GG.

The second photo was a studio portrait, also in black and white. From the photo, a proud-looking lynx dressed in a neatly pressed military uniform smiled back at Tracy. His cap tipped slightly, emphasizing a cocky, devil-may-care appearance. A dog tag, hanging from a chain, was draped over a corner of the frame.

Roy emerged from the bedroom wearing pajamas and pulling a thick bathrobe around his shoulders. He tied the belt around his ample waist as he walked over to join Tracy at the bookshelves. Tracy pointed to the photo of the bear couple. “Mom and dad?" he asked.

Tracy's host smiled with pride, “Yeah. That was taken at a New Year's party, 1931, if I remember correctly. Of all the photos I have of them, this will always be my favorite. They look so happy and so much in love. Mama loves dancing and Papa loves music, so they went out as often as they could afford it. They only dance the slow numbers these days."

“Sure looks like they're having fun. So, who's the lynx in this one?" Tracy tapped the other photo.

“That's my best friend, Marco. We grew up together, went to school together. He convinced me to join our high school swim team. Scratched the hell out of this one weasel who made fun of me for being the slowest on the squad." Roy gently touched the dog tag hanging from the frame. “I was drafted by the Army. Marco, he enlisted. He…" The bear's voice cracked slightly, “he didn't come back."

Tracy put a paw on his friend's shoulder, “Roy, I'm so sorry. He sounds like a great guy."

“Yeah, he was very special to me." Roy seemed about to add something more, but was interrupted by a whistling sound from the kitchen, “Hey! Tea's ready. Come on and fix yours. I'm bound to put in too much honey for your taste. Sarah, down at the diner, always jokes that I like a little tea in my honey. She's not entirely wrong about that."

Roy led the way into the kitchen. It was as neat and spotless as the living room. The bear's apartment was proving to be nothing like the stereotypical bachelor pad that Tracy always imagined. Roy opened a cabinet, took out two large mugs, and handed them to Tracy. “Spoons in there," he said, pointing out a drawer. Then he fished a pair of tea bags from a tin on the counter. Tracy retrieved a pair of spoons and was pouring steaming water into the mugs. He looked up to see Roy extract from another cabinet the largest jar of honey he'd ever seen in his life.

Roy wasn't kidding about liking a little tea with his honey. He poured some of the water from his mug into the sink to make room. Tracy watched, open mouthed, as Roy scooped in spoonful after spoonful of the stuff. He finished with one final spoonful directly into his maw.

“I'm a bear. What can I say?" he said with a sticky grin.

Tracy scooped one modest spoonful into his mug then, before Roy could replace the lid, scooped a huge spoonful into his own mouth. “I'm a coyote. What can I say?" he said as he licked honey from his whiskers.

Roy let out a huge belly laugh and threw his arms around Tracy in a hug. “Well, for that, you're an honorary bear tonight!"

The friends returned to the living room and chatted over their tea. Roy told stories of growing up with Marco: Of sleep-overs and building tents in the living room with chairs and blankets. Of playing hide-and-seek among the clothing racks in his dad's store. Of riding bicycles through Chicago's streets and alleyways. Of their shared love of swimming.

For his part, Tracy told stories of traveling the country with his family: Of games played in the back seat of the family station wagon with his twin brother, Terry. Of school lessons taught by his mom while their father was off working one of the odd jobs he always managed to find when they needed money. Of swimming in a lake and sitting around a campfire at night while he and Terry laughed and howled in a poor imitation of their feral coyote cousins.

But mostly, Tracy listened. He could feel the deep emotion within Roy as the bear talked about his friendship with Marco. There was something going on inside of Roy that Tracy had never seen before in the brief time since they first met. The coyote was content to sip his tea as Roy spoke. He was aware of a physical attraction toward the bear growing within him over the past few weeks. Now, this warm, sensitive aspect of Roy's character was pulling at Tracy's heart strings. He found himself yearning for another hug from Roy like the one he'd gotten earlier in the kitchen.

Time passed. Roy looked up at the wall clock and drained the last from his mug. “Getting pretty late. I hope you don't mind, but I like to read a little before I go to sleep."

“Oh, man!" Tracy slapped his palm to his forehead, “I didn't grab anything to sleep in before we left my place. No toothbrush either."

Roy rose to his feet. “Well, I can't do anything about the toothbrush, but I've got an old pajama top that I've kind of outgrown." He patted his belly. “I doubt the pants would fit, but the top should work. It might be just a little long."

Tracy looked dubious. “If you say so." He followed Roy into the bedroom where the bear was already rummaging through his dresser drawers. “Here you go!" Roy placed a neatly folded, navy blue pajama top into the coyote's arms. “Bathroom is thataway."

Tracy disappeared into the bathroom. Roy could make out the unmistakable sound of the young coyote urinating, then water running, followed by the rustling sounds of Tracy undressing. “Ummm, I'm not so sure about this," said Tracy as he emerged from the bathroom.

Roy clapped a hand over his muzzle, “Oh, oh my." The pajama top was certainly long enough. The bottom edge hung to Tracy's knees. Tracy tried cuffing up the sleeves but they still extended past the tips of his fingers. Proportioned for someone much larger, the neck opening barely managed to hang onto the coyote's narrow shoulders. Tracy and Roy simultaneously burst into laughter.

“I've slept in tents that weren't this big," giggled Tracy.

Roy wiped tears of laughter from his eyes, “You'd think a clothier would do better. See why I always measure when I'm fitting somebody?"

Tracy unbuttoned the top and handed it back to Roy. “It's okay. I'm fine just sleeping in my underwear."

Roy considered the coyote standing before him, wearing only his briefs. His eyes lingered for a moment then he cleared his throat and turned away with some embarrassment, “Well, let me get you some blankets and a pillow. The couch is pretty comfortable, but you might get chilly out there."

His arms full, Tracy headed back into the living room. “Thanks again, Big Bear. And goodnight."

“Sleep tight." Roy called to him.

Tracy struggled to get comfortable. True, the couch was soft enough, but the vinyl seat under him was a little too hot and the air above him a little too cold. Tracy liked to sleep curled up, on his side. Here, it was impossible to do so without some part of him hanging over the edge. The ticking of Roy's wall clock seemed incredibly loud in the silence of the night. Terry loved the sound of a clock and even slept with one under his pillow but, unlike his twin, Tracy found it nothing but annoying.

After twenty minutes, Roy's silhouette appeared in the bedroom doorway. “Everything okay out here? I heard you thrashing around."

“Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you," apologized Tracy, “but I just can't seem to get comfortable."

Roy flipped on the light switch. “Look, uh, maybe we can just share my bed, if you're okay with that I mean. I, uh…" his voice trailed off.

“You mean it? I mean, are you sure?"

“Sure, I'm sure. Come on." Roy beckoned with one paw and turned back to the bed. He was sitting on the edge as Tracy entered the room. Once again, Roy found himself staring as Tracy rounded the bed to the other side. He quickly pulled the covers over his lap. It was some time since he'd last slept with another male. Although he hadn't thought of Tracy in a sexual way prior to this, there was no denying that the lean, young coyote, stripped down to his briefs, was an arousing sight.

Tracy slipped under the covers as Roy turned off the bedside lamp. The linens were a higher quality than he was used to sleeping on and he ran his finger pads over the sheet, feeling the cool smoothness. The bed heaved slightly as Roy found a comfortable position. Tracy settled in too. In his mind, he replayed the way Roy spoke of his parents and Marco earlier that evening. It was no wonder that the bear was so nice to him. He clearly had a kind and passionate heart. As he nodded off to sleep, Tracy found himself wishing again that he was confident enough to return the hug Roy gave him in the kitchen.

• + +

In his dream, Roy was standing before the door to his very first apartment, a studio that was far too small for someone of his stature and bulk. But it was cheap and it was his! As he fumbled for his door key, Roy looked down to see that he was wearing only a t-shirt and a still-dripping swim suit. Behind him came the staccato of toenails drumming on the tile hallway floor. Even after all the years that had passed, he still recognized that rhythm and Roy felt a lump swelling in his throat.

“Something wrong, Big Bear?"

Dream-Roy blinked tears from his eyes and somehow managed to insert the key into the lock. As the door swung open, he turned back and found himself looking straight into the golden-green eyes of a lithe, similarly dressed lynx.

“It's been so long…" Roy finally managed to say.

“Tell me about it," said Marco as he squeezed past Roy, “the stupid mesh in this suit is chafing me like hell! And I need to wash this chlorine out of my fur before I turn white." Marco turned to face Roy, “Something is wrong. What is it?"

“No, no, everything is perfect. Let's shower out that pool water." Dream-Roy took hold of the bottom of Marco's t-shirt and tugged it up and over the feline's head. As he did so, he noticed Marco's army dog tag hanging in front of the broad, silver chest. “Wait… This isn't… This shouldn't be here… Not yet…" Roy reached out to touch the cool metal of the tag, tracing the serial number he knew by heart. His eyes filled with tears again as he looked up. But this time it wasn't Marco's face, it was Tracy who looked back at him.

“Shhhh," hushed Dream-Tracy, “You were right. Everything is perfect." The coyote leaned forward to tenderly kiss the tears which were now flowing freely over Roy's cheek.

With a deep sob, Roy opened his eyes. Tracy was still in front of him, his back to the bear, curled up in almost a fetal position, sleeping like, well, sleeping like a dog. In the quiet of his room, Roy could hear a teardrop fall onto his pillow. He moved closer to Tracy, taking great care not to wake the young coyote. At last, with his nose buried in the ruff of Tracy's neck, Roy closed his eyes and breathed, “Forgive me, Marco".

As his mind surrendered once more to sleep, Roy could hear Marco's voice whisper on the night wind, “There is nothing to forgive."

+

Tracy was four years old again. And he was not. In his dream state, he was part of the scene, both a giggling pup and an observer, detached, but somehow feeling everything his four-year-old self felt.

They were in one of the inexpensive motel rooms that often served as their temporary home as Tracy and his family tooled around the country in their 1937 Ford Deluxe. If the weather was warm enough, they'd stop at a campground and tent under the stars. When it was warm, but rainy, they most often slept in the back of the station wagon. But when it was cold enough, Dad would dip into the reserve of money he'd earned in prior months and rent a motel room. Tracy loved camping the best, but the motels were a special treat.

Dream-Tracy watched his younger self and his twin brother Terry bouncing on the motel room's one double bed, laughing like hyenas. Dad was sitting on the floor in his boxers watching “Studio Wrestling" on the motel's black-and-white television. Tracy and Terry were also in their underwear: matching briefs that Dad called their “tighty-whiteys". But here, in this place, the briefs were wrestling trunks and the bed was the boys' ring as they mimicked the moves of the heavyweights on the snowy TV screen.

Mom walked out of the bathroom, leaving the light on and the door open a crack so the boys could find it if they woke up in the middle of the night. She was wearing the short, loose-fitting night clothes that she called a “shift". That word always cracked the boys up and when she said it, they would begin making car-engine sounds while pretending to shift gears until the entire family burst into laughter.

Dream-Tracy and Mom studied the scene in the motel room for a few minutes. Tracy knew what was coming. It had played out countless times over the years before this moment and would continue to do so right up to their last night together before his family left him behind in Chicago.

“Dogpile!" called Mom.

“Eeeeeeeee!" squealed the pups in unison.

_Dad immediately sprawled belly down across the floor and braced himself for what was to come. “Dogpile! Dogpile!" shouted his sons as they tumbled off the bed and onto his back. “Dogpile!" called Mom once more as she flipped off the room light and carefully threw herself across the furry mass of wiggling males on the floor. _

“Dogpile! Dogpile!" The laughing and squirming soon turned to cuddles as the combined warmth of their bodies worked its magic.

“Why isn't it a coyote pile?" Pup-Tracy asked through a yawn.

“Because it's a dogpile," replied Dad.

Dream-Tracy smiled and echoed, “Because it's a dogpile."

“It's a dogpile," murmured Tracy as his eyes opened. It was the middle of the night and he instinctively looked for the crack of the bathroom door. Had Mom forgotten to leave the light on? Tracy was confused for a moment. He was sleeping in his underwear, his “tighty-whiteys", but he felt older, not four years old any more. Yes, there was a pile of fur behind him and over him, but it smelled wrong.

With a slow dawn of realization, Tracy knew where he was. He was 21 years old again and sleeping in Roy's bed. The furry arm draped over him belonged to the bear who had scooted over to spoon with Tracy sometime after the two of them fell asleep. Dogpile? Bearpile? “Every bit as good," thought Tracy as he snuggled back against Roy's belly. He found himself drifting off to sleep once more as the combined warmth of their bodies worked its magic.

+

Roy woke again. There was no dream this time. Tracy was still snuggled tight against his chest. While they slept, Tracy had taken the bear's big paw in his own. Moonlight shown through the window, revealing a faint hint of pink in Tracy's ears. Roy took a chance and placed a light kiss on the one nearest his muzzle. In his sleep, the coyote inhaled deeply and squeezed Roy's paw. Roy pressed his hand to Tracy's chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath. The short, soft fur there felt better than the finest silk in his shop. He could feel the nub of one of Tracy's nipples under his fingertips. With a few subconscious humps against the canine's tail, Roy dozed once more.

+

Some time later, Tracy opened his eyes. He could hear Roy breathing deeply in his sleep. The two of them were still spooning and he could feel Roy's bearhood pressed firmly to his backside. Even through the layers of Roy's pajamas and his own briefs, Tracy could tell that the bear was fully erect. With that knowledge, his own penis began to unsheath itself. Tracy slipped his paw under the waistband of his tighty-whiteys. He didn't dare wake Roy and, not wanting to make a mess in the only underwear available for the next day, Tracy risked only a few strokes before sighing and willing himself back to sleep.

• + +

Morning light illuminated the room when Roy woke this time. Something seemed out of place, but he couldn't put his finger on it right away. It finally occurred to him that he was alone in bed. His heart sank. Tracy must have slipped out and caught a bus back to his own neighborhood. With a feeling of disappointment deeper than he thought possible, Roy sighed, rolled out of bed, and made his way to the bathroom. It took only a moment for him to realize that the pants hanging on the doorknob were not his own. With a whoop of joy, he dashed out of the bathroom and on out of the bedroom. Sweet smells of cooking caught his nose and led him to the kitchen. Tracy, still clad in nothing but his briefs turned from the stove and smiled. “I hope you're hungry, because I think I've scrambled enough eggs for an entire pack of bears."

Roy beamed, “I'm starved. And for the record, we don't travel in packs. It's a sleuth of bears."

“Thank you for that bit of trivia. And thank you again for letting me spend the night," Tracy said as he scooped eggs from the frying pan onto a pair of plates, “I thought that cooking breakfast was the least I could do to repay you."

Roy carried the plates to the small dining alcove. “This is perfect, more than I expected and better than I deserve." He pulled out a chair for Tracy, “Come on and sit down. There are some things I want to tell you…"