FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

“F-Fuck…Oh, fuck, that…was so…"

“Mmm," I agreed with a purr.

“You're the best, Luke…You're the…best…mmmm."

It all started with a smile. The same sleepy, satisfied, post-afterglow smile he wore that night as we lay naked on a filthy bed.

One of us had destroyed the alarm clock. It had to be either sunrise or sunset from the way golden lights trickled through the dusty window blinds. Devon felt so warm and comforting as he nuzzled and purred against my bare chest. Our tails entwined as I recalled the sex we had not too long ago. My ass still felt sore, and I bet his did too, but he still wore that tired smile. The same one that made me realize…

The year was 1980. Born and raised in the Midwest together before making our way to Manhattan City, Devon and I didn't just frequent the underground punk scene. We lived it, almost 24/7. We used to be two cats raised in a conservative household, Devon growing up in the suburbs of Lakertown and I in a town so small that nobody knew it's name beyond the limits. We met on our way to the East Coast, discovered the thrills of cocaine and marijuana together, and even joined our first punk-fueled hotel orgies before eventually fucking each other's brains out. The more we hung out together and frequented the same gigs and illegal dens, The more we got to know each other and the more I began to fall in love with that tabby cat and his warm amber eyes that started to become bloodshot. As they say, the rest is history.

My mind went to dark and very blurry places throughout 1980. It got to the point where I didn't even know the day or even the month. The only way I could tell any point of reference of time was when the bars closed or sunlight started to hurt our eyes as we wandered the streets, trying to either find our next fix or keep up with the latest band about to perform a gig. Often, it was in a sketchy bar or forgotten alleyway filled with junkies and degenerates like us.

Devon and I've been doing what we did for a little over a few years. They were starting to take its toll. What we did was incredibly fun, but at the same time, I dreaded imagining us ten or twenty years in the future. We would likely resemble those old hippies who never gave up on the vibes of Woodstock. or the aged hooker or two that refused to realize they were no longer wanted by everybody.

“Dev?"

“Mmm?"

“Devon?"

“Mmmmwhat?"

“Do you," I began to ask, “Do you…feel happy?"

“Hmmm, hehe, you certainly helped me feel that way, fuckface," he snickered, burying his whiskers against my nape. “Why? You're going on a sudden drop? I got another fatty in my pants pocket somewhere…"

“I'm good, I'm good," I assured the tabby. “I'm just…thinking."

“About what?"

I shrugged. “About the future, I guess…"

“Lame," he scoffed, audibly trilling. “The Straight and Narrow Man doesn't give us a future. They want us to 'grow up' and get married to bitches, shackled to a dozen kids…" Tabby yawned, “who'll all die in wars. Force us to work unfuckable hours in stuffy shirts and ties. That's the normie's future."

“True," I mused, but didn't concede. “But that doesn't need to be our future."

Devon perked an ear. “Our future?" he laughed. “You're acting like a total homo…"

“We literally came inside each other's asses a few hours ago," I reminded him with a chuckle. “And the night…day…morning…night—whatever, before that. And the whatever before that, dude…We're total fuckin' queers, dude."

“Mmm, and that's why I tolerate you the most outta all the fuckheads out there," he teased, then leaned up to lick my chin repeatedly. He paused to say, “Luke, I think I love you…" before resuming.

I grew stiff, not just below the belt. Placing a paw on his cheek, I guided him to touch his nose with mine. Our whiskers and bad breath caressed like fog. The effects of the afterglow and concoction of drugs in my system still overwhelmed my senses, but I could still understand the words we exchanged.

“You love me?"

“I think so."

“I think," came the moment of truth for me. “I think I do too. No homo."

He cackled, then sighed, smiling that same smile I fell in love with. “No homo…" he muttered, then pressed his nose to mine as our lips finally touched. “No homo."

Devon and I rarely ever kissed. We mostly ever did the year I've been seeing the act in order to piss off a offended Christian walking down the street or to release tension during a very euphoric son playing at a gig. Never before did I kiss him with affection or passion. Not until that very moment.

When we parted for sweet oxygen, I was the first to say, “Do you wonder about the future? Your future? Not the future of the Normies or the Man?"

“Sometimes," He confessed after a long and reflective moment. “Depresses me like a ton of shit…What…is the point if all we're gonna do the rest of our lives is working to work into an early grave?"

We sat up a little straighter and leaned against the back of the bedframe. Devon seemed to grasp my twitchy body for warmth and stability as we stared at the ugly and peeling wallpaper. Silence stretched out for what felt like another long night. My nose faintly caught the width of dried seed and all the piss from the bathroom on the other side of the apartment. Or was it a motel room? They blended together after all while.

Finally, I managed to form a cohesive sentence through the thick haze.

“Dev, we don't need to do office work or shit like that," I pointed out. “Shit, did I ever tell you about my daddy?"

“Quadrillions of times," he said.

“I'm afraid of turning into a hateful bitter square like him," I said. “Promised myself I'd never just a foot in an office building for as long as I lived. Still intend to keep that promise. This ain't something we can do forever though, Devon…"

“Why not?" He argued, “Parties are the best!"

“This even our place?" I asked waywardly. “I don't remember having a mirror on my nightstand…"

“It's Ty's place," Devon remarked. “He's the cheetah that's been bending over for his stepdad's uncle. Or is it his stepdad he's bending over for and his uncle that owns this building? Huh…"

My eyes fell on Devon as he noticed himself—noticed us, a male tabby cat and mixed breed made of mocha—lying naked on a bedframe that no longer had sheets over the mattress. A few unconscious mammals leaned sleepily in different corners of the bedroom. One of them had pissed themselves. However, Devon was more distracted by the tabby staring back at him in the large mirror, like he were a feline he no longer recognized. He stared at him like a complete stranger that left him opening and closing his maw like a codfish.

Devon sat back. For once, I witnessed a mix of emotions I've never seen on him before.

“Dev," I spoke up. He didn't answer. “Dev? What's wrong?"

“I'm hungry," he suddenly replied. “Luke, do ya…do ya wanna take a shower together? Find our clothes after? Go out and like…have a dinner date or whatever? I think I need..I need coffee."

“I'm…Sure, Dev," I answered. “Yeah, maybe coffee's a good idea."

I slowly got to my feet with him as we steadily sauntered inside the nearest unoccupied bathroom. Our tails would tiredly sway and then entwine while occasionally brushing against the dried cum leaking down the backs of our legs.

Devon yawned again, almost slumping against the wall tiles of the shower. I thankfully caught him and helped the tabby thoroughly shampoo his fur. Neither of us cared that it belonged to a female's bottle or that it smelled like girly lilac.

Yawning deeply, I also commented, “Yeah. Maybe we do need coffee."

“Think there's a diner that serves pancakes this hour?" he asked.

“We can look," I suggested. “And I hope there's bacon too."

It would likely be a diner open that served all different meals throughout the day, whether it was sunrise or sunset that just happened. Whatever the case, Devon and I didn't find her so I was getting into the groove of things as we showered, simply helping clean each other up and exchange blind kisses they made me feel giddy. God, I did love him. He loved me. We loved each other.

Maybe we did have a future. It wouldn't be like the ones our heterosexual mothers and fathers had, let alone wanted for us, but it would be our own. We would figure it out.

As we dried off our fur and eventually started searching for our clothes on the floor, the handsome tabby that stole my heart kept smiling at me. I smiled back. I was looking forward to the conversation, once Devon and I sobered up at the diner.