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Ugh, I can't deal with this fucking hangover right now, If Lee doesn't turn down that fucking television...

I'm gonna fucking lose it.

I threw a pillow at my roommate, a red fox named Lee. Lee was obsessed with some new CSI series that was apparently on every time of the day. My ocean blue eyes rolled in annoyance, as my pillow could do nothing to stop the fox from continuing his tv program.

God fucking dammit. I love fucking saying that, I feel so free saying it. God fucking dammit! Lee has given me such a hard time lately. Maybe he thinks messing with someone who's hungover most nights is a smart idea, but I wish I could tell him it's not.

Lee's green eyes connected with mine.

"How's my favorite dalmatian this morning?" He said with a cocky grin

I gave him a fake smile as I rolled out of bed and started getting dressed. Lee and I didn't sleep together- well I guess we technically did, but just as roommates. Our beds are several feet apart. I didn't bother with the morning pleasantries as I asked: "Where's the Advil?"

"That is your favorite question!" Lee shot up from his chair and put his paws on his hips, like a motherly vixen. He always acted like this, and he was the only one who found it funny. I fucking hated it.

I looked Lee in the eyes again, showing him that I was not in the mood.

He apparently didn't understand.

"You should have memorized where your pills are by now."

I waved a spotted paw at him, as I pulled a shirt over my slim torso.

"M' just fuckin' tell me where they're at..."

I started to notice a familiar scent around our room. That's because it was the scent of a fox, but it wasn't Lee's, not exactly, it was someone else's mixed with his.

"You know you're gonna die from alcohol poisoning-"

"I'm gonna die from your fucking blabber, if you don't shut the fuck up, and give me some Advil for this fucking headache I have, alright! Jesus Fucking Christ Lee!"

Lee stifled a laugh. "Don't take your lord's-"

"WHERE'S THE FUCKING ADVIL?"

The fox cowered away towards the blaring television, all this yelling was making my headache much worse. The throbbing in the back of my head was terrible. I'd already thrown up twice last night. Can't Lee just learn his fucking lesson? What lesson is that you ask?

THE ONE AND ONLY LESSON

Don't fuck with Blake (or anyone for that matter), when they're hungover.

Really, that's just common sense. Lee has none. Maybe he's mentally handicapped, sometimes I suspect he is. He acts like it at least.

"Blake," my thoughts whisper to me,

"Your nephew is autistic, assuming Lee is retarded is really offensive especially to Jerry."

"Fuck you," I whisper back.

Lee stood there dumbfound, not knowing what to do. His paws hung limply by his sides now, his green eyes moving frantically, to try and figure out what to say. I take back calling him retarded. He's not, if I wasn't so fucking wasted I'd say he's kind of cute. He's got a nice body, decent ass, good muzzle (at least that's what his girlfriend tells me), but he is so scared of me he probably couldn't handle me in a relationship.

I can't remember the last relationship I had with a guy that wasn't a one night stand.

Probably Cam?

No, not Cam.

Who's that husky I dated for like a year?

Yeah we were perfect together.

He had a really nice ass.

I have a really nice ass.

Shut up.

What's his name?

I forget about the Advil for a moment as I stand in a t-shirt and boxers in front of Lee. The red fox's tail twitches slightly left and right as he just stands there stupidly. I put a paw on my face, close my eyes, and snap two fingers on my left hand.

Before you say anything:

I know it's really weird, but that's what I do, when I'm really thinking.

Well, that and try not to let my erection show if I'm thinking about a hot guy (which is a majority of what I think about).

COME ON GODDAMNIT!

What's that husky's name?

Finn.

No, that was the border collie a year under me, he got close to Nick right before we broke-

NICK!

That's his name!

God, Nick, I dated him for almost a year, best ass in the junior class. At least that's what I thought. Most kids at our high school were stuck in their own little straight world.

I didn't realize how long I'd been standing there, or the fact that my cock had began to proceed out of my sheath until Lee noticed and spoke up. "I'm sorry, Blake, the Advil is in the bathroom cabinet."

I woke up from my memory of Nick's muzzle on my length, and looked down. My boxers were tented out.

Did I still love Nick that much?

Maybe it's the alcohol talking.

(Hey, Blake it's your liver calling, I'm gonna clock out five years from now, four if you keep on going with that Advil, ugh you're killing me).

I looked up awkwardly at Lee. Maybe this had happened before? Most likely not, the look on the fox's face was genuine. What emotion it was genuine of, I couldn't decipher, but Lee was undecidedly straight (If he wasn't I would have laid him at least twice, I'd changed my mind about his ass). I'd given him plenty of time to check out my ass, since i usually changed regardless of whether or not he was in the room.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you Lee."

"It's fine, you're hungover, and apparently aroused,"

"I better go wash up,"

"Am I really that good-looking Blake."

"You've got a nice ass, so yeah."

FUCK!

Why did I just say that?

Things are gonna be awkward for the next week at least.

I really gotta stay off the booze.

Or maybe just one beer a night,

Or two.

Maybe two beers and a shot of that Black Label stuff they just got.

"Blake, stop. Go to the bathroom. Do whatever you need to do."

"Ugh."

"Do I sound like your mother yet?"

"Lee," I paused and drew a heavy booze swollen breath in for dramatic effect.

"You always sound like my mother."

I pull the shower plastic shower curtain back and step in. I have my paw on the showerhead when I realize I'm still dressed and the door is ajar. I silently curse my own drunkenness and strip, simultaneously kicking the door closed.

The hot shower shocks some of the booze out of me. I throw up as soon as I'm out of the shower. I managed to make it to the toilet before things got too bad. The sludgy alcoholic bile swirled in the bowl as I flushed it. I'm still surprised how many guys I can lay, even with all my drinking.

They're probably pitying you, you're dick isn't that good.

You drink every fucking day,

Just a fucking faggot, at a fucking faggot bar every night, looking for some ass.

"Did I just call myself a faggot?" I asked myself aloud, Lee was probably wondering what the fuck I was going on about, if he was even still here. Sometimes I wonder if the fox is just making his vixen up.

Is her name left hand or right hand?

My throat feels burned and I know my throat is sour.

Nothing that lots of listerine and ice water can fix.

I realize the raging want in my cock has disappeared. I would be too tired to go out tonight if I jacked off this early in the morning. Thinking of the time, I wrap a towel around my waist and stepped out.

Lee is nowhere to be found. "Good, he slipped out." I said to myself. I walked over to my nightstand and grabbed my iphone. The brightness shocks me enough to realize that all the blinds to our room are shut and the lights are off.

"Fuck!"

12:09PM

****************

10:09PM

Before I drink I like to give some guys a taste. You know rub up on a few hot guys at the local gay club/bar, get them all warm and tingly from their head too their toes. Giving them the tacit promise that they can get under my tail or vice versa, if they only ask. Then I go and have a couple fingers of bourbon, or whatever the special is. My plan usually works by then. One or two guys walk over, I eye the one who's got the better features and looks like he would suit me. I down one more finger of bourbon, then I dance with that guy for several minutes, actually grinding on him. Sometimes it's the same guy from last week, sometimes it's not. I never do the same guy twice in a week, trust me, relationships and I don't get along.

Right now, I'm on guy number three, a ripped lynx. Seriously this guy is jacked, no way I'm topping him, I honestly don't even think I want to. My brief glimpses at his ass give me positive feelings, but I would rather have him on top.

I'm grinding against him now, I look up briefly to see his brown eyes flicker around the club, hopefully he's not checking out other guys-

Turns out he is.

In walked a knockout Doberman, absolutely gorgeous ass, I didn't even have to see it to know it was true.

I followed the lynx's eyes and knew they must be more than friends. I couldn't make out what the feline said to me over the throbbing music, but soon enough he was walking toward the doberman, who was sporting a fishnet shirt, that showed off his chiseled torso.

Bourbon Time

Maybe my parents should have named me Whiskey instead of Blake, they obviously should have seen my alcoholism coming. Whiskey sounds really fucking american.

"Scotch, neat." I surprise myself with that order.

Gotta spice things up, maybe they'll be someone nice, extra special tonight.

I down the scotch fast, giving a quiet "ah" after it burns on down my gullet. I feel a warmth in my toes now. Two people down I see a really attractive familiar husky. Trying to jog my memory, I dance my way through the crowded bar, the floor throbbing beneath my paws, from the music.

Those blue eyes look back into mine and I know who it is instantly.

"Nick?" I say as I take the empty barstool next to him.

The husky doesn't hear me, but turns his head briefly when I sit down. His eyes light up. He puts a paw on my shoulder.

"Blake?" He yells.

I hope he likes the tanktop and jeans I'm wearing, a bit basic compared to what I used to wear in high school.

************

11:47 PM

I can't believe he let me lay him that quick. I slide into him as he lays on his chest. We're at his place. Memories flood me as I start slowly pushing myself further inside him. Nick just lies there. He told me lying on his chest was his one condition. I gladly accepted. I think it makes for a better lay.

He moans along with me, but doesn't say anything else. Then again, neither do I. What's to say? We are just two guys, having a one night stand, (a fucking awesome one night stand). Nick still remains the best guy I've ever slept with. Its his eyes, they can be so mischievous and seductive if he uses them right, and of course, he has an amazing ass.

I haven't felt this good with a guy in at least a year. He's so tight, something I've missed. He's the master of the moan as well. He has it at a high-pitched, yet, still-masculine frequency, that makes my throbbing cock fill further with joy.

I climax into him, as we both take in heavy breaths, I prepared for the husky to climax, thrusting lightly. When Nick tightens around me I moan loud, not even faking it, pull out, and collapse onto his red-furred back, still messy, our scents mingling in the air of his room. We both lie there on his bed panting. It's dark as I lie there next to the husky I used to love.

Eventually he breaks the silence.

"My boyfriend is gonna be pissed." He breaths out as he starts to get up.

"Oh shit." My eyes followed the husky as he went to the bathroom to clean up.

I tried to coax him to let me shower with him, knocking fervently on his door.

"God fucking dammit!"

*************

THE NEXT DAY

6:30AM

The alarm rings. That ring I dread, the beeping from hell.

Time to start the cycle over again.