FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 26 The hotel room was an upgrade from his previous one. With three rooms and a kitchenette, it was almost on par with his university apartment. And this suite had a view of the beaches on the west side of San Francisco Bay and came with room service, which Adam made sure to point out included the staff. This was the type of place Paul never imagined setting foot in, let alone staying. But it had a definite golden cage vibe to it…not that he resisted being put up here. He was still working through how he felt about… How he felt, period. Paul hardly had time to consider what his other cousins might be like in bed, once Arnold left, that the procession started. Only two of them didn’t participate, and one was vocal in objecting to being kept from the golden stripped ass. Adam loudly pointed out where Paul’s car was now parked because of his poor driving skill. Arnold countered he wasn’t risking the loose lips that came with Adam’s gift while Paul was in the field. Being spoken as if he wasn’t standing next to them had made Paul irrationally angry. Which was a side effect of Arnold’s gift. Each of the gifts Paul had been granted came with its own side effect and was one more thing among the emotional noise that made it difficult to work out where he stood about how he’d obtained them. It wasn’t like it was his first time having sex with strangers. Henry had happily passed Paul around the guys who were part of the Minneapolis Sigma Theta Gamma frat, along with friends of theirs. But that time had come with years of implanted memories of Paul knowing all of them intimately. It was after Donal had brought layers of memory the bat had obfuscated in the process of giving him the one that fit whatever the moment called for, that Paul had to sit down and prioritize which ones he considered real or fabrications. Donal’s process hadn’t told Paul which memories were the real ones. They were all equally real. If he couldn’t find documentation of an event he remembered living through, he had to look at the emotional impact to make the decision. Unlike those memories he’d hadn’t cared for, and decided were fabrications, all of this was undeniably real. And it wasn’t over. He was going to continue having sex with guys he didn’t know since he’d have to grant his gift of dancing grace and lightness of feet to the men who were going to accompany him. Dancing, it had been decided while one of the brothers was granting Paul his gift, was Paul’s passion, and everything that came with it had been enhanced once he’d been initiated. Telling himself it was transactional didn’t help the way Arnold implied it would. It wasn’t like his decision to have sex with guys he’d taken the time to get to know had come after Paul sat down and analyzed the pros and cons. He’d tried the bar scene hook-up a time or two, and each time had ended with the lack of satisfaction in contrast to a night in bed with Thomas, or any of his friends back then. The body had been satisfied, but the rest of him? That was what had led to his rule of being able to dance with him before he’d considered taking a guy to bed. He sat on the bed, then let himself fall back and studied the white stucco ceiling. At least it wasn’t mirrored. That would just have been too much. So much so he couldn’t even find the humor he knew had to be in such a room having a mirrored ceiling. The size of the bed was already bordering on the ridiculous. As if his cousin were encouraging him to try to fill it with all the guys Paul was sexual with in the city. As if they were telling him to get used to it, because from now on, bed this large would be filled with guys he’d have to fuck. No. He wasn’t going to let them do that to him. They might use their gift to gouge the Society, but Paul wouldn’t take part in that. He didn’t require others to pay to receive something from him. And other than for this mission, he wouldn’t let his cousins use him that way. They could sell their gifts, but they wouldn’t be selling his. He ignored the knocking at the door in favor of figuring out how he was going to explain his point of view about what he felt a gift was compared to how they used the word. When the knock repeated, he sighed and stood, closing the thick terry cloth bathrobe. It had felt appropriate after the shower, not that it had helped with the persistent feeling dirt was stuck in his fur. The shower, once his cousins were done with him, had done nothing to make that go away, and neither had this one. Maybe feeling dirty was just something he’d have to learn to live with. A look through the peephole showed no one. Couldn’t they have figured out they had the wrong room after that first knock? He was halfway to the bed when the knock came again. “I’m coming,” he snapped. He reached for the handle, only to see the gun in his hand. He glances at the bedside table where he’d put it, because no matter how natural it felt, he wasn’t keeping it under his pillow, and tried to recall picking it up. It, and the sense that the gun was the solution to every problem, were gifts from Alex. He put it behind his back and opened the door with his left hand. Whoever was bothering him better have a very good— The hallway was empty. He caught motion out the corner of his eye, and before he turned his head, Thomas was in front of him. With a curse, Paul slammed the door shut on his best friend. What the fuck was he doing here? How the fuck did he even know where he was holed up? He was too damned dangerous to be around at the moment, and Thomas fucking well knew that! He rested his head against the door and tried to calm the anger. At least Thomas was on the other side— The whistle of appreciation had him whirling around, gun up and flicking the safety off. Thomas closed his mouth on what he’d been about to say, but didn’t look as worried as someone with a gun pointed at his face should, as far as Paul was concerned. “What the fuck are you doing in here?” he demanded. “Don’t you think there’s a reason I’m keeping my distance from everyone I know?” The idea he should punctuate the statement with a shot popped up, and Paul had a hard time coming up with why that was a bad idea. A terrible idea. He lowered the gun. “I could have fucking shot you!” “When did you become gun-happy?” Thomas asked in too calm a tone. “After Alex fucked me. Now get yourself back out of here before you turn into a sex maniac I have to fuck!” “I did not know that happened if one of them fucked you.” Thomas reached under his shirt’s collar and pulled a leather medallion out. “It’s too late for him,” a faint high pitch voice said. “He’s already a sex maniac.” Roland poked his head out of the breast pocket. “Magical protection made by Denton Brislow himself,” Thomas said. “So you know it’s better than anything you’re putting out.” Roland let out a shrill whistle, and with a roll of the eyes, Thomas took him out of the pocket and placed him on the edge of the bed “Fine. It still doesn’t answer my question. What are you doing here?” “Checking in on my best friend,” the rat replied. “Being told ‘I’m fine’ mechanically over the phone didn’t inspire confidence.” Thomas looked Paul over critically. “How are you doing? I mean, really doing?” “I’m…” he sighed. “I’m hanging in there.” He tried to decide what to do with the gun. It had a holster, but that was in the box the gun had come in. He hadn’t expected to need it until they were on their way. Letting go once he placed it back on the kitchenette table was hard. Far too hard. And as he stepped away, its lack was too apparent. Arnold told him he’d get used to the impulses over time, and Paul hoped it meant sooner rather than later. “They gave me what they call the combat package,” Paul said, “and it comes with a bunch of side effects.” “Madoc’s never waved a gun around,” Roland said, full size again, naked, and turned to face Paul. Hi spread his legs invitingly and Paul wished someone would come up with clothing that shrank along with his friend. “Maybe he’d gotten used to it by the time you move here.” Paul barely kept himself from snapping. “And how about you cover up?” “Nope.” And before Paul had a response, he was pushed against the door, Roland kissing him. Paul found himself too busy deciding if he should deck the rat, shove him away, or bend him over, to do anything in response to the heat and neediness in it. Roland backed away with a loud protest, Thomas pulling him by the nape of the neck and slapping another leather medallion against his chest. “Wear your damned protection. We’re not here to fall victim to Paul’s inadvertent influence.” Paul tied his bathrobe closed again, then moved the front to cover his erection, which had been poking the sides away. “That was all me,” Roland said. “No,” Thomas said, “you know what it—” “I still want to bone him,” the rat cut him off, waving the medallion in his face. “Even with this ‘protecting me’. Paul’s hot; what’d you expect?” Thomas sighed. “Self-restraint would be nice.” “Oh, that’s rich,” his brother replied with a snort. “Coming from Mister ‘can’t wait until we’re in the privacy of the locker room before putting his hands down my pants’.” Thomas’s ears folded back, and Paul chuckled. “But I’m serious. I didn’t feel anything coming from him, and wouldn’t I want him to bone me if it was him doing it?” Thomas’s ears were up, then forward in curiosity. “Don’t,” Paul warned as his best friend pulled the medallion over his head. Thomas dropped it on the bed and looked at Paul. “Okay. I want sex with you, but no more so than usual. Like Roland said. You are hot.” “So we can fuck now?” Roland asked. “I’d rather not,” Paul said, more forcefully than he intended. “And I am fine.” “You don’t want to have sex with us?” Roland asked in disbelief. “Your best friend and his brother. And you claim to be fine?” “Rol,” Paul said, fighting the exasperation. “I was fucked by five guys who seem to think that the harder they pounded my ass, the better it was for me. Five guys I don’t actually know,” he added as the rat opened his mouth. That subdued Roland. “You said the combat package,” Thomas said. “That was only three of them for Madoc.” “Albert and Aiden didn’t want to be left out. I’m not singing, and he pretty much sauntered out of the room afterward, so I’m pretty sure all he did was fuck me. I haven’t been around anything resembling art, and Albert was tired afterward, but I don’t know about him.” “How about I give you an update on what’s been happening, then?” “Please.” Paul opened the fridge and instead of the usual hotel fare of candy bars, sodas and bottled water, he looked at a selection of beer bottles in the door with names he didn’t recognize. Packages of meats and cheeses were on the shelves. “The Chamber’s upped their assault.” Thomas accepted the bottle Paul handed him. “Going after the Society allies Grant left staves with. It’s left them pretty damned mad.” Paul handed Roland another bottle before taking his and the packages of meat and cheeses to the counter, where the bread box revealed it contained a loaf. He cut slices, and Roland piled meats and chesses on one. “They’re mad Grant pulled them into this?” Paul asked, echoing Arnold’s comment. “Some. Most are pissed the Chamber’s unreasonable about all this. Attacking instead of negotiating.” Thomas accepted the trencher Paul handed him. “Grant’s worried it means they’re closer to the end game than Wassa thought they’d be. After all, if you’re about to kill all the gods, you don’t worry about pissing off a few followers here and there.” Paul took a bite of his quickly assembled sandwich and sipped the beer. It wasn’t bad. “Tell him about Wuhan,” Roland said, exchanging bottle with his brother after a sip. “She claimed the staff that was with the Xu.” Thomas drank from the new bottle and shrugged. “I thought those already part of a faction couldn’t handle the staves.” “She’s Guan,” Roland said, “not Convent.” He reached for Thomas’s bottle again after a long swallow, but his brother moved it out of reach. “And now, she’s a Practitioner with a kick-ass Amazonian staff. She was already an Amazon, so it makes sense.” He sucked the neck of the bottle and moved it in and out, tilting an ear. Thomas rolled his eyes, but his pants tented. “You’ll meet her. She’d coming to El Salvador with us.” Roland took the bottle out of his mouth. “We’re going to watch Grant reforge fucking Excalibur.” “He and Wassa have worked out what they need.” “And it’s in El Salvador?” Paul asked. “It’s there or Iceland, but we know the Chamber has the dormant volcano there under watch. So we’re going to Lake Ilopango.” He teleported next to Paul and out of reach of his brother. “Just drink yours.” “Okay, I’m lost. What’s the common denominator between a volcano and a lake? And either of those to Excalibur?” “You’re tastes better,” Roland pouted, then he grinned. “Can I suck yours from you, Paul?” “Just ask, instead.” Paul offered his bottle to the younger rat, who took it reluctantly and handed his to Paul. “You remember Wassa’s story about that first ceremony the Chamber did?” Thomas asked. “That was in Iceland and Grant thought that triggered the dark ages, which was caused by more than one volcano exploding. Ilopango was that other volcano. It’s a lake now.” Paul shook his head at the unreality of it. “And you’re going there so Grant can reforge the actual Excalibur.” And Thomas was talking about it as if it was no stranger than going for a Sunday walk in the park. “I was hoping you’d come too,” Thomas said. “Even without the upgrades you’ve received, you were with us when Wassa was freed and when she told us the story. It feels right that you be there when Excalibur is remade.” Would his cousins even let him refuse if that had been his intention? He took a long swallow of the beer and smiled at Roland, who hadn’t touch his after one sip. He’d lost out on this one, and he was eying Thomas’s again. Paul gave him what was left and slapped his ass on the way to his jacket hanging by the door. He found the unnamed entry Arnold had added to phone and tapped it. “Royal Security,” a man answered. “How can I help you, Mister Heeran?” Paul heard indistinct conversations in the background. “I’m sorry,” Paul said, surprised someone he’d never spoken to before knew his name. “Who are you?” “My name is Ernest. I am Royal Security’s administrator. I will be your contact point.” “Oh, okay. I was told to call this number with any development. I’m going to—” “Denver,” Thomas hurried to say. “Give me a minute.” Paul looked at Thomas expectantly as he muted his phone. “Everyone’s in Denver still working out the details. If you need to come back here before we head to El Salvador, we need to make this room my landing spot. The stadium is…errr… not a good idea right now.” “Mister Self-Control,” Roland said with a smirk, resting his muzzle on his brother’s shoulder and unbuttoning his shirt. Paul unmuted the phone. “We’re leaving for Denver in…” Roland raised five fingers. “One hour.” The rat rolled his eyes and returned the hand to undressing his brother. “I’ll be there while details are worked out and then I’ll be back in the hotel room, but I’ll call you as soon as I have information. Oh, I’ll be traveling by—” “I am aware, Mister Heeran,” the man said. “I will ensure the list of personnel qualified for this operation is ready by then so you can make the selection, and they will have your combat uniform when they meet you at the assigned location.” “Err,” Paul said as both brothers put their hands on him, pushing the robe apart. “That’s—” He swallowed at the hand that closed on his cock. “—fine.” He disconnected and moaned in response to Thomas sucking on his nipple. “I hope this is okay,” Roland said, nipping his neck as he stroked him. Paul groaned. This was perfect. He needed to have sex with friends after those strangers.