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Prologue

The Carnal District, Upper Portdam’s little secret, sat snugly hidden beneath the shadows of the city’s tallest skyscrapers and once abandoned textile factories-turned-apartments near the center of the city proper. A single, long street stretching east to west, it was no secret where it got its name - if one were to simply look up at the various storefronts and businesses that were there, ranging from bars and gambling halls to full blown porn theaters, strip clubs, and adult toy stores. If you wanted it, you could find it here, and probably would if you were persistent or driven enough to go looking through the alleyways or into darkened back rooms that stunk of sweat and sex. This was the place the self-righteous would condemn on Sunday mornings after having secretly spent their Saturday nights here.

Patrons of all persuasions and identities could find themselves their greatest fantasies made real at The Fairy Tail. Situated nearer the western end of the street, it was part strip club, part escort service that offered companions from one end of the spectrum to the other, boasting high energy shows in front, and more private encounters in the rear rooms. Next door was The Hoard, selling toys of every shape and size for those lonely nights, or when the real deal kept letting you down or couldn’t quite scratch that itch. And finally, Swampwater, the District’s only restaurant and, perhaps more importantly around 8 PM when the restaurant-side closed, the District’s only bar.

All in all, the District wasn’t without its various troubles, be those drugs, muggings, or assaults, but to those who lived there, from the apartments above the businesses, to the boxes in the alleyways it was still their home. After all, no place was perfect - and for some, where better to live than with those who shared your struggles… or your vices?

1. Towels?

The sour odor of burnt coffee and nicotine filled the kitchen and had started leaking out into the rest of the apartment. Jet sat at the kitchen table, the side of his head resting against the window to his right as he watched the cars zipping this way and that, up and down the street below him. His hands absently fiddled with his mug, sliding it left, then right, then left again. A sip, then a drag from his cigarette, over and over, his morning routine… if morning was Tuesday at 2 PM.

Hasn’t changed since I was seventeen, he thought, smiling to himself, his eyes drifting to follow each car as it darted along. He stretched, arching his back and extending his arms above his head, “And I don’t see any reason to change it today, either.”

Movement to his left caught Jet’s attention as the large, older, black wolf Rakkarth stumbled into the kitchen, still wiping the sleep from his eyes.

Leaning forward, Jet set his chin on his hands, tilting his head to the side, letting out a faux-surprised gasp, “Well, good morning, sleepyhead,” he said like one would say to a toddler. “I was beginning to think you were just going to sleep the whoooooole day away!”

“Just because you got up an hour ago don’t make you hot shit,” the wolf spat back, glowering over his shoulder at the shark, his hazel eyes piercing Jet from behind thin rimmed glasses. He poured himself a cup of coffee and stepped to the table opposite the shark.

Jet smiled widely, sharp teeth glimmering in the midday sun filtering through the window. “Well then, how is daddy-”

Thwack! Rakkarth brandished a rolled up towel and beaned Jet on the side of his head. The wolf dropped into his chair and downed the mug of coffee, now lukewarm. He set the mug down with a loud thud.

“I told you stop calling me that, Jet.”

“Aww, I’m sorry dad-”

Thwack. The wolf looked blankly at Jet, eyes blinking slowly, as if asking Are we done now?

Jet rubbed the side of his head, glaring at Rakkarth, “So why d-” Jet’s hands shot up as Rakkarth raised the rolled up towel again, “Do you have a fuckin’ towel? You expecting some kind of mess?” Jet paused for a moment, smirking, “We could make one.”

“Shut up. Your god damn messes are why this is our last towel.”

Thwack.

“Remind me, Jet, why do you take them to work?”

Jet shrugged, shutting his eyes and huffing, “I can’t help it if the johns just,” he made a fist and shook it up and down, “cum fucking everywhere sometimes.”

“Why do you throw them away after?” Rakkarth asked incredulously, reaching his hands out as though he wanted to grab the shark and just start shaking him. “Why don’t you,” he picked up the towel, “bring them home,” thwack, “and wash them, dumb ass?”

Jet snatched the towel out of Rakkarth’s hand and flung it over into the living room. It hit the couch with a dull thump. He stared at it for a moment and sniffed softly, rubbing his nose with his wrist and glancing down at it. His tongue absently touched the inside of his lower lip, as if checking there, too.

Shaking his head, Jet snapped back to reality. “Really, Rakk? You know, when I said you could ride my ass, this isn’t what I fuckin’ meant! Over towels, of all things?”

Rakkarth pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes and groaning. “It’s the principle of the matter, Jet. You don’t just throw something away because the mess might be ‘too much of a pain in the ass’ to deal with. Besides, you try being covered with this much fur and have one, single towel to dry off with.”

Jet leaned back in the chair, shrugging and scoffing. “I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand? It’s not a difficult concept,” Rakkarth raised a hand, looking over his glasses at the shark. “Jet stop throwing away the shit Rakkarth buys. Jet brings home towel. Jet washes towel. Jet puts-”

The shark waved his hand dismissively, “No, no, I mean how come, if you’re going to try and impart such wisdom upon me, like, I don’t know, a uh,” he snapped his fingers, “Father figure - yeah, that’s it - that I can’t call you-”

Rakkarth slammed his fist on the table, “Shut up! Replace my god damn towels, Jet, when you go out today before work. Okay?”

Pausing for a moment, Jet’s gaze drifted to the couch, then back to the wolf. He hopped up, bending forward, one hand dropping to his hip. He brought the other upwards, kissed his fingertips and then tapped Rakkarth’s nose.

“Okay, okay. You win, babe.”

He stood up straight and sauntered into the living room, scooping up the towel that, in a way, he felt started this entire dumb, stupid ass argument. He threw it over his shoulder and continued on his way. Rakkarth watched him, eyes narrowing, waiting for the next punchline or snide remark, but instead the shark simply disappeared around the corner and down the hallway without a word, arms crossed behind his head as he went, grinning the entire time.

After a bit of peace and quiet, Rakkarth’s ears twitched as he heard a quick squeak, followed by the distinctive hiss and pattering of the shower turning on. Nodding to himself, he lit a cigarette and took a long drag.

That was the only towel. Rakkarth coughed suddenly, sputtering smoke from his mouth and nostrils. He slammed his fist on the table. “Mother fucker.”

* * *

Jet slipped into the bathroom and shut the door, locking it. He turned the shower on and waited for the water to warm up, tossing the towel onto the counter and sliding his white tank top upwards and off, throwing it onto his designated clothes basket. It was barely visible at this point, buried beneath the gargantuan pile of at least three weeks worth of dirty clothes. Rakkarth’s sat empty beside it.

More shit I gotta do or get bitched out for, he thought, sighing and running his fingers through his hair.

He turned his head and caught himself in the mirror. “Well, hello,” he said, smirking and winking, strutting closer. He leaned forward, “Come here often?”

A pause, and then he snickered, rolling his eyes at himself. He turned to the side and looked at himself again, as one sometimes does, flexing his arms though they weren’t particularly impressive, and sucking in his gut. He turned away from the mirror and looked back at his reflection facing away from him, suddenly growing still. He quickly averted his gaze, scowling and yanking his boxer shorts off and hurrying into the shower He jerked the curtain closed behind him and, when he was finally alone, secured in that small space, he let out a relieved sigh. Jet stood there, motionless for a long while, simply letting the hot water drum against his skin, head tilted upwards, eyes shut, shoulders slack and drooping.

“Fuck,” he whispered, reaching a hand up to rub the back of his neck. He sighed and smirked, his other hand finding more interesting places to explore, sliding down his stomach to his crotch, his cock throbbing gently in the steam, balls hanging heavily between his legs.

The simple thought had already been enough to slowly arouse him, but as his fingers curled around his erection and began pumping, his mind flew off to far away places. He jerked himself quickly, squeezing his cock, twisting his hand as it passed over his shaft. His legs trembled and grew weak, toes curling, sharp claws scratching at the shower floor. He stopped suddenly, balls aching, begging, his manhood standing at full attention, throbbing, pre-cum leaking and dripping down, swirling down the drain. He opened his eyes just a bit, and looked down, licking his lips. He peeked out from behind the shower curtain.

2:37 PM, plenty of time, he thought and grabbed the shower head. It was one of those you could aim and direct. He pointed it at the wall beneath it in order to keep it running, and not have it spray all over him as he lay down in the shower, back reclining on the far wall, legs spread. His erection lay across his stomach, leaking more precum onto himself. He spread it around with his palm, then returned to his ministrations. He brought his free hand up to his mouth, spitting onto his fore and middle fingers and slipped them between his legs and up inside himself, clenching his teeth as he worked them in and out in rhythm with his strokes, pressing against his sweet spot. His chest rose and fell rapidly as his breathing grew shallow and excited as he neared the finish line, balls drawn up into tight rocks against his crotch, erection swollen and throbbing, gushing pre now, ass clenched tightly around his fingers.

With a loud gasp, he arched his back, throwing his head back, eyes turned upwards in ecstasy, toes curling and uncurling, ears flat against his head, blushing as he exploded in his hand, the warmth of his orgasm rocketing through every muscle in his body, thick loads of his cum splattering onto his stomach and chest, the musk of his seed filling his nose. He released himself, cock flopping down onto his belly with a wet slap, and lay there, panting, eyes shut, head turned to the side. Jet laughed softly to himself, looking down as his cock dribbled out its final load, giving himself one final, slow stroke. He licked the back of his thumb where some of his seed had landed, tasting himself.

After a few minutes, he stood up shakily, bracing himself against the shower wall and turned the shower head back to its normal position to wash himself off and finish his bathing.

Five minutes later, he sat on the edge of his bed, nearly naked save for the pair of boxers he’d managed to find, towel-drying his hair, pausing every few moments to take a drag from the cigarette he had lit up and set in the ashtray on his nightstand. Next to the door sat a garbage bag filled with his dirty clothes from the bathroom, ready for the laundromat. He tossed the towel in with them once his hair was acceptably damp and slipped into a pair of shorts and another tank top, and finally a simple, plain black leather collar he just liked to wear for no particular reason. He stood in front of the mirror putting his small, silver hoop earrings, one for each ear, in and saw Rakkarth appear in his doorway.

The large wolf leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, looking down at the garbage bag and nudging it with his foot.

“What the hell is this?”

“Dirty clothes, thought it was about time,” Jet responded, fighting with the second earring, “If I can just get this god damn thing - there, finally. What, did you think it was, a body or something?” He smiled, turning to face his roommate. “And yes, Rakk, the towel is in there too, thanks for letting me use the last one. You’re so thoughtful!” He winked.

Rakkarth rolled his eyes and scowled, and then his face softened a bit. “Buy some more, please? Heaven knows between the two of us, you’re the one who makes bank.”

Jet waved his hand dismissively, “I got it, I got it. Don’t worry,” He paused and stepped over to Rakkarth’s side, placing his arm across the wolf’s broad shoulders, tapping the wolf’s chest with his other hand as he spoke each word: “More towels for my big, wolfy,” and finally on Rakkarth’s nose with his forefinger, “Daddy.”

The wolf growled and gently shrugged Jet’s arm off, his elbow bumping Jet’s ribs. The shark suddenly recoiled and clutched his side, clenching his teeth as he sucked in a sharp breath.

Rakkarth stepped forward suddenly, “I didn’t do it that hard… are you okay?” He reached out, but stepped back as Jet withdrew from him, the shark looking at him warily from the corner of his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Towels. Got it,” Jet said quietly and swiped his wallet off the dresser. He scooped the bag of clothes up, sliding past Rakkarth and heading out the door without stopping.