City Nights
This is only my second ever submission, and it's not finished! Woohoo! I love to disappoint. If it gets any requests to be continued I'll go back and edit and finalize it but otherwise here's a kind-of-done chunk of something, maybe.
Ever since the tan fur along my back began to darken, which my dad had assured me was normal for any growing dingo pup (probably before slapping me on the ass and telling me to 'go play a sport for once, Ryan'), I've possessed a fantastic knack for fucking things up. Sometimes in grand, cataclysmic, single-action events that haunted me for years, while other times in a steadily building chain of fuck-ups that worked together in making me look terrible. This only begins as one of those stories.
I had always over-empathized with my older brother, Jackie. As a result of assigning him more sensitivity than he really ever possessed, I ended up treating him with extraordinary care and consideration. We hadn't been all that close recently, as I only saw him when I was passing through downtown or on holidays with the family. On nights like that, Christmas eve dinners and mother's day brunches, he would always be the center of attention. The bottomless well of quality laughter. Those were the words they had used at his eulogy, anyways. I think Dad had taken a long time writing them out to make it sound like everything was perfect before he was suddenly gone. For all his charisma, the one time he needed it most, Jackie couldn't get a single soul to pay attention to him. Massive heart attack on the sidewalk. Stepped over by pedestrians for five minutes before someone called an ambulance. Fucking bystander effect. Sometimes still, when I lay in bed at night, unable to sleep for even a second, I wonder what they'd say if it was me, the dreaded younger brother, instead. If they'd write it all out with the same amount of care. Or if they'd just say they barely saw me, because I was off on my own all the time. The idea was ridiculous, I know, but grief has a way of tearing the logical world around you away. It's like a psychedelic from hell.
The few weeks after that incident were pretty horrific. Not leaving the house, not leaving the bed, binge watching tv shows and drinking straight Kamchatka. The whole circuit. Very messy. It wasn't until some time later that I received the news that kicks this story off: Jackie had a will. And while he didn't leave a mysterious treasure map, or a hidden fortune, he left me something that was worth even more to a young adult. His apartment, payed off for months still, in the heart of downtown. Days later, late night arguments with my parents aside, I was in an Uber headed straight for his apartment complex with two suitcases of miscellaneous shit that I deemed necessary for moving in. I understood why my parents wouldn't want me to leave, but I was falling apart without an escape. A fresh start, and what felt to me like an entirely new life, was the first step to recovering in more ways than I knew.
The ride managed to stretch on forever despite the relatively short distance. Repetitive white suburbs and neatly placed, Homeowners-Association-approved patches of trees crawled by, begrudgingly giving way to the trodden expanse of the highway. Towering lamps along the median drew short lived streaks of synthetic yellow light across the windows and illuminated the inside of the car with each pass. At first I began to imagine them as colossal candles set up every few yards. Then, a phoenix resting in an inferno atop each wick, each of their heads swiveling to watch me pass. Suddenly, the open pathway of the interstate gave way to a labyrinth of unkempt buildings and uncomfortably cramped city blocks. Crowds sprung into life all around, populating the sidewalks and intersections under the steady glow of streetlights. Watching the masses of fur, scale, and feather marching from street to street captured my attention through the rest of the ride towards the center of town. I imagined I could slide right into those emotionless parades of daily monotony, perforated only by wild and exuberant nightlife. That word, nightlife, particularly enraptured me. Going out among the stars and angelic neon beacons after the day had died down, sharing abandonment of caution in exchange for a glimmer of excitement among strangers.
And so, after talking myself into it, I resolved to go out that very night just as my driver depressed the brakes, grunted noisily, and parked. I snapped to attention, handed him a wad of crumpled bills that would hardly serve as a tip, snatched my bags, and stepped out of the car. The apartment complex was as simple as it got: A rusted metal staircase that wormed back and forth between two red brick buildings. Jackie's apartment was on the top floor, the fourth, and I began to clamber up the noisy stairs as my Uber pulled away back into traffic behind me.
My apartment was a few doors down the hall at the top of the stairs. No one else was coming or going in the complex, and it made me feel like a thief sneaking in. Would they be expecting my brother, still, to be living here? Did they have some way of knowing he was gone? The landlord, at least, knew about the change of ownership, but it was doubtful he cared beyond whether it was paying him or not. An utterly plain red door stared back at me beneath the large gold number "412" on the wall. I set my bags down, jammed the key I had been given into the handle, and swung the door open.
It was minimal, to say the least, but I don't know what else I expected from my older brother. A small living area, half-kitchen and half-living space, was furnished with a couch and two chairs beside a knee-height coffee table, presumably doubling as a dinner table. A door led off to the left into the bedroom. Aptly named, at that, considering it fit a bed and virtually nothing else. The final feature of the apartment was a bathroom that was, shockingly, in pretty good condition. It had a shower-tub combination and there wasn't an overt presence of rust and mold, so I was pleasantly surprised. After a brief tour, unpacking my things and trying to familiarize myself with the new home, it became much more clear how Jackie had been able to pay the space off months ahead. It was efficient living, to put it lightly. With my meager two bags of possessions already strewn out across the place, I couldn't think of much else to do, so I began to get ready for a night on the town. A hot, thorough shower and some time freshening up led to twenty minutes of picking clothes, trying to figure out what would look nice and still fit in, before I finally stepped out of the apartment in a blue button-up with brown slacks.
The first night out strings together in my mind with the second, and fifth, and tenth, and so on. Each day I decomposed in the apartment, considering jobs, hobbies, and motivations. When night came, and the light crawled away behind the skyline like a dejected, lazy cat slinking off to its own devices, I broke out of my prepaid cage and went out seeking life. The streets were alive under the stars, crowds passing from party to party, bar to bar, mending deep wounds with shallow enjoyments, like children delighting over a sand castle even though they know the waves will soon sweep it away.
Of the few nights I remember from those early weeks, only one of them matters to me. The vast majority of them deposited me back in my own room, hungover or unreasonably high, with nothing to show for my efforts but another oncoming day of lethargy. The exception occurred on a cool Saturday evening, and started like any other: I wandered shortly, found a like-minded group of reckless party-goers, and shuffled in line from one location to the next. Also like any other, this one started with illicit behavior, mostly instigated by me. The exact details are blissfully foggy, but I distinctly remember gobbling entire edibles to the cheer of a full crowd. Unsurprisingly, there's a dark gap in my memory shortly after.
A few hours later, the crowds began to dwindle, individuals splitting off with called farewells at each new street. Soon the crowd had thinned to but a few lingering night owls. As I struggled to retrace my steps, fumbling with my phone before finding it dead, a needle of panic pricked my thoughts. Trying not to work myself up, dismissing it as mere tweakiness, I glanced around.
Nearer to the front of the group, a tall brown rabbit was saying his hearty goodbyes to all his new friends in the group. He had a lean build and a smile that was sweet and charming. Everyone in the group took to him, and I had to imagine he was a pretty quality person to come off as so likable. In hindsight, it was a silly way to judge someone, and could've ended seriously poorly for me. This is the one time my luck took a sharp turn for the better, though. When he waved his goodbyes, parting ways at an enormous empty intersection, I shuffled away from the group in his direction, my ears bent back with a twinge of nervousness.
"Uhm, hi, you're... what's your name again?" I began with unmatched eloquence.
The bunny shot me a warm sideways grin and stuck his paw out to me.
"Percy. You're Ryan, right? Everybody was cheering you on for those edibles."
I didn't know he had been around for that part. That means he had undoubtedly noticed me slumping around for the past few hours like I was disabled. My face began to burn and I laughed it off, taking his paw in mine.
"Yeah- that's me. I probably shouldn't have done that, which is what I was gonna ask about. Ah," I started glancing around at all the nearby buildings, still fighting back panic at the lack of an iota of familiarity, "I... have no idea where the fuck I am right now. I'm new around here. Could you point me in the direction of my apartment building?" He laughed, too, his paws moving to rest comfortably in the pockets of his thin red zip-up jacket.
"For sure. Know what street it's on or what it's called?" A white depiction of someone walking flickered into life on the panel above the crosswalk, and he gestured for me to follow him with a tilt of his head.
"Stuart Flats," I continued, skipping down off the curb and walking in stride with him across the street, "I think it's on Twelfth Street."
I turned my head to glance at him. The rabbit's grey fur glowed a dazzling red around its edges, backlit by the stop lights in the intersection, and his sharp blue eyes locked momentarily in min. He exhaled sharply in amusement and cracked a wide smile. Pulling a paw from his pocket, he pointed a thumb at his own chest.
"Well, that makes it pretty easy! I wouldn't mind walking you home. I do live there, after all."
"R-Really? That's great, as long as you don't mind escorting me, I mean."
"Oh, yeah, it's cool." He said with a dismissive wave of his paw before stuffing it back in his pocket. Suddenly, I was able to identify a feeling that had been welling up inside me. It started as a faint tightness in my chest, spreading outwards in waves, heating my face and making me feel weightless all over. I was infatuated with this bunny. It very well could have been the drugs, or his outwardly cool-headed demeanor, or just a projection of my gratitude that he was helping me home. Regardless of the cause, from the time I noticed it, it only grew.
We plodded along the sidewalk for a few more yards, the bottom of my sneakers occasionally scuffing hard and loud against the concrete. Percy broke the short silence.
"Actually, do you mind if we stop somewhere real quick? It's right on our way."
"Sure, I don't mind," I said, trying my best not to let this newfound admiration betray itself as awkwardness, "where we goin?"
"I have this little coffee place I try to go to every night like this. Owners are real nice, and they work way too hard to keep it open twenty-four seven. I won't make you sit down or anything, just gonna grab-and-go so you don't have to wait."
Once again I stole a sideways glance at him. Despite everything I'd seen that night of Percy being well-liked and comfortable with people, at that moment, he looked to me like a lonely soul. I imagined him making this walk all on his own so many nights before, silently progressing along each street, sipping coffee in the empty seating area of a cafe. My brain was already working my mouth before I could tell the infernal thing to think first.
"That sounds really good, actually. I'd sit down inside and have some with you, if you wanted." This seemed to make him think for a second, and he withdrew his phone to glance at its face briefly. I thought he was going to turn me down, wanting to get home and alone again as soon as he could.
"Yeah, for sure. It's pretty late, but that sounds nice to me."
There's a special kind of relief that comes with agreeing to spend more time around someone you think you like. It's like an agreement that both people enjoy the other and are committed to extending, even if by a little, the company they share. The feeling gave me a head rush of excitement, and by the time we had reached the cafe a few blocks later, we were lost in deep, meaningful conversation.
...
"Starship Troopers? Over Army of Darkness? Are you crazy?"
"Listen, man," Percy began as he suddenly turned right and opened the door to the cafe, stepping with it to the side and holding it for me, "Don't get me wrong. I love all the Evil Dead stuff too. But the giant CGI bugs and garbage writing make it the most B movie I've ever seen. No question." I walked past him into the shop, crossing the precipice of the humid darkness of night into air conditioned, illuminated bliss.
"I guess I can actually see what you mean... I'm still goin' with Army of Darkness, though, those skeletons just..." The amber lights above hummed contentedly, and the scent of baked goods and coffee seized my attention tyrannically, the display case staring back at me with what seemed to be an overflowing cornucopia of temptations. Within sat croissants that looked as buttery and flaky as all southern cooking combined, donuts shining under thick layers of glaze, and bagels with every manner of creative twist. I was reminded that I, too, was a baked good at that moment, and I meekly turned and waited for Percy to go first. He noticed my drifting attention and gave me a subtle, playful elbow in the ribs as he passed.
"Hiya, Karen!" The rabbit called out, resting on the counter with his elbows, leaning forward and looking into the obscured kitchen area. From around the corner came a dusty armadillo with tiny wireframe glasses set on the tip of her snout. She looked comically old, and held the signature loving smile of a grandmother as she entered the light of the restaurant area.
"Percy! Nice to see you, dearest! My goodness you're out late tonight, I thought for sure you'd skipped us and gone to bed." The elderly woman chatted with him as she tapped away on the service computer.
We both ordered a decaf coffee. By the time we each had a steaming paper cup in our paws, carefully tip-toeing to a table in the middle, the armadillo had disappeared back into the privacy of the kitchen.
"This is a pretty neat little place. I can see why you're a regular here." I said before taking a tentative sip of my coffee. Percy sat across from me, unloading two packets of cream and sugar into his before following suit. He nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, it's pretty cozy. The food's really good, too. Especially if you have the munchies," he said with a snicker, lifting his cup to his smirk and sipping lightly.
"My stomach's fluttering way too much for a late night feast," I said, and he raised a single, impossibly smug eyebrow at me from across the table.
"Nervous about your good-looking date?" He said. Swiftly and decisively, I kicked him in the shin under the table, and we both broke into a brief fit of laughter.
"From the mountain of edibles, asshole!" I hissed low, trying to fight down a grin.
....
Our walk home was decorated by lighthearted and laughter-ridden conversation, our topics ranging from video games to music, occasionally drifting into snippets about our personal lives. From the moment we stepped out of the coffee shop to the time we were approaching our apartment building, there hadn't been a single significant lull in our chatter, not one awkward silence. Seizing the momentum before it was too late, I made a show of checking the time on my phone and spoke up.
"So... It's not nearly as late as I thought... Thought we had a lot more walking to do, honestly." I gulped and picked at the hem of my shirt. "Wanna come hang out in my apartment, for a bit? I'm still having fun."
I didn't even have time to brace myself for rejection before he replied.
"Hell yeah. I don't normally go to sleep for another hour or two anyway, and I'd rather hang out with you than channel surf sitcom reruns until my eyes roll back."
Oh, your eyes are gonna roll back.
I stomped the mental brakes, my entire stream of consciousness grinding to a halt, and tried to ignore the hot blush sticking to my cheeks. Brain scrambled, all alarms blaring, I tried to come up with something more reserved to say.
"I have a couple of better things to do than watch sitcoms," I began, and almost immediately, my blush grew. "Like-- I mean, I have a Gamecube with a little tv, and Netflix on my laptop. If you like... either of those things."
Percy's eyes didn't leave my face, even as I turned away, hoping my embarrassment didn't glow as bright as it felt.
"I do like those things." He said, finally. His voice was so level, calm, and smooth that he must have been teasing my sudden jumpiness. Perhaps playing his own hidden games.
[One fast heart-beating hour later]
Our last conversation had long since been overtaken by the white noise of the apartment, the rasping radiator and the steady buzz of the fan from the bedroom doing little to fill the silence.
"You know..." I began, my paws shaking in my lap, "Your apartment is a really long walk back. You could stay the night here, if you wanted." It was a long shot. His apartment was next door. I hoped he's just think it was a joke. It was the longest shot. I wasn't even entirely sure if Percy liked guys. I wasn't entirely sure if I liked guys. My heart hammered against the inside of my chest like a brick in the dryer. Ideally, if he didn't think about me that way, he wouldn't get the underlying implication at all and I'd be spared the embarrassment. He might think it was just a dumb, flat-falling joke.
I turned to him. Those icy blue eyes were already looking at me, and for the first time that night, I saw him flustered, his ears twitching once and his knee bouncing a little. I froze. He didn't make a move, either, not even responding to my offer. One part of me pleaded, urgent, to laugh it off, or to make a joke of some kind, or apologize.
The other part of me was yelling much less intelligent, sophisticated things. Slightly aided by a persistent high, fueled by the gaze of this rabbit, and encouraged by my own mantra of "Stop thinking! Do it! Do it, do it, do it,-" I turned and leaned towards him. Slowly, at first, my right paw depressing into the cushions by his legs as I drifted closer. He must've had the same battle in his head, because he began to lean into me at the same time, intentions suddenly rushing into actions. With our faces inches apart, his eyes fluttered closed, and I did the same. The touch of his warm lips against mine was the most spine-shiveringly fulfilling physical sensation that ever jumped from my flaring nerves into my muddled brain.
It's impossible to say how long that first kiss lasted. The feeling of his mouth pressed forwards, engaging mine, his head tilting just perfectly to the side as we drew inexorably closer. That first glowing-hot meeting point between us spread outwards as we kept pressing forwards: First, it was just a brush of his paw along my side. His legs scooting towards me, pressing into mine, and then draping over mine. Like magnets, we had drawn too close, and all efforts to keep from meeting completely were futile. Percy pulled himself all the way up onto the cushions, and I did the same. We broke the kiss finally, eyes meeting and beaming a mixture of realization and affection to one another.
He moved forwards first this time, crawling over me, wiggling in between my legs and laying himself over my body. My paws flew up to his cheeks, heart positively vibrating, and I kissed him again. This time it was different: It wasn't experimental or uncertain. There were no feelings hanging in the air over our heads like phantoms. Our feelings were against each other, warm and soft and groping, bodies mushing together like two differently colored lumps of clay mashed and swirled up.
My body, from legs to lips, met his in a hard rubbing motion over and over as we shared tongues and pleasure in the shadows of my stuffy apartment. Limbs working with minds of their own, I felt him everywhere I possibly could. My ankles and calves rubbed up and down past his as he pressed onwards, my back hitting the arm of the couch. Any surprise at the motion was overwhelmed by the inferno of lust clouding my awareness, and if anything, I began to meet his sloppy kissing with even more abandon. Our thighs and crotches ground together, my paws felt down the musculature of his chest, and he broke from the kiss in order to lick ferally at my neck. The action, so raw and true, flooded my mind with cloudiness and made me groan.
It was the most noise either of us had made in fifteen or twenty minutes, and it brought our minds back to the present just long enough for clarity to beg its chance at an appearance. Percy stopped, pulling away from me. My eyes snapped open and desperate desire screwed my face into a pout. I hadn't even realized they were closed. Air brushed over and cooled the patches of fur he had been licking at, making them so much colder than the heat of his mouth. The rabbit was staring down at me with a half-grin, but I could tell there was something wrong.
"Are you sure about this...?" He began, his eyebrows low with concern, "You're high after all, and this is really only the first time we-" "Percy," I cut him off, sitting up enough to lean into his chest, placing my right paw flat on his lower belly, "... Lose the shirt."
To my ultimate satisfaction, he got the message and complied. The thin cloth was up and over his head in a flash, and my paws leapt up to explore new territory. I felt across his chest, his fur short and silky, his muscles firm but mostly flat and hidden. It made me drool a little. He must've noticed because I felt his paw tilting my chin up, and he cut my gawking short by rejoining our muzzles.
Our tongues met again, coiling against one another, holding nothing back. It made me inhale so sharply that I had to pull back just to catch my breath. I used the opportunity to lose my own shirt. When we met again, half-cuddling and half-grinding, we made out with a positively feral disregard for anything else in the world. Our fur was hot against one another, our paws silky and electric in their dirty wandering, and our hearts knocked out messages to one another between our chests. It wasn't long before his muzzle dipped again, and before I even felt where it was wandering to, my body surged with heat, my legs wrapping around his waist with a mind of their own and bringing our lower bodies oh-so-snugly together. I felt the heat between his legs against mine and groaned again; He didn't give me a break, and suddenly I felt a wet heat across my right nipple, swiping and probing in little circles and long, flat presses. My groan reverberated into another, paws flying to his head and rubbing at the base of his ears while he licked me where I had never been licked before.
The fire within me was crackling and roaring now. My skin was tingling, my ears ringing, and my heart doing all manner of gold-level olympic flips and dives. With uncharacteristic boldness, I decided I had to give it an outlet, even as nice as laying back and having it fed was. Wrapping an arm around his lower back and pressing at his chest with the other, I toppled him back on the couch, this time taking the top spot. My eyes cracked open to gauge his reaction and I found him staring back, half lidded, no signs of protest in sight. He looked mildly amused at the motion, like he was entertained by the idea of seeing where I'd go next.
I darted in to kiss him, firm and sloppy, my tongue making sure to get its fair share of action too. Before he could fully reciprocate, and before we got trapped in that dangerously sensational embrace again, I drew back and began to slide myself down his body. I laid kisses on his bare fur like the dashes of a trail on a treasure map: First, starting just below the curve of his jaw, working down his neck and past his collarbone. I alternated fast, light pecks and heated smooches all the way down his chest, zigzagging and wandering. His smell, tantalizing and distinct, swam in my head. I got lost in the lead up and nearly forgot where my head was going until my lips met the barrier between his pants and his belly fur. His breathing was heavy, the kissing laying him back like a tranquilizer. He laid a paw down between my ears, adorning them and the top of my head with little scratches and gentle, methodical circular rubbing. It was heavenly, and it fueled me even further.
My snout pressed down right between his legs, finding a hot resistance buried there, pressing back against the other side of the fabric. I kissed at it, rubbed my face on it, and licked at it as it grew ever more restless on the other side, until a great uncomfortable-looking lump covered in wet spots rose from the middle of his pants. Neither of us could take it a single second longer: We met eyes for a flash, both panting up a storm, the room long since melted away from around us. My shaky fingers flicked his fly open and began to tug his pants and underwear down all in one motion, impatient and rushed, my lust betraying my carefulness.
Just like that, he was finally there before me, long enough for a hand and a half and as thick as a great juicy sausage. I really did drool, that time, a few dribbles escaping off my tongue and plopping down onto his sac. He jumped a little, his shaft doing the same, the skin all over it tightening and swelling for just a half second before relaxing again. It looked like he might say something when I decided my eyes had done enough feasting.
I leaned in close enough for my face to rub right into his balls, his scent so heavy here, and lifted them with a wet lick. A deep, hearty groan was the only encouragement I needed to continue bathing him, licking him all over his thick sack and along the insides of his thighs before using my long tongue to guide his balls into my mouth. As gently as I could, I suckled on them, my tongue sliding across their tightening surface. He groaned again, higher, his legs tensing a little. Huffing, a grin splitting my face as I slowly pulled back, I touched the tip of my tongue to the underside of his member with minimal pressure. Sliding up, adding force as I went along, I licked across the weakly twitching rod. It tasted like he smelled. At that, I really lost control, head dipping all the way forward and pursing my lips around his tip. God, it was hot. The warmth against the front and inside of my mouth was like a tiny fleshy furnace. I relaxed, pulled my cheeks and tongue in to envelop his length, and started to move my head in little bobs.
His manhood rubbed all over the inside of my mouth, leaving fat streaks of pre against my tastebuds, sliding and slipping its warmth into equally warm crevices. It was heaven for me. I could feel his pleasure, his satisfaction, tensing up in his balls, pulsing through his hard dick, smearing out over the inside of my muzzle. As soon as I had started, it seemed, the sensation escalated, his hips jerking up in little hops as he grew ever harder. In a crescendo of whimpering moans, he exploded in my mouth, tensing up firmly and firing out huge thick ropes of his taste in time with the elated, long pulses of his tool.
I drank it with insatiable greed, eyes rolling back from the sensation it offered just sliding down my throat, and he simply kept pumping. After what seemed like an eternity, his length hilted in my mouth, stuffing my throat and rubbing his nuts on my chin, he slid back all at once with a great sigh. I half-groaned and half-gasped, breathing normally again for the first time in too long, and immediately rued the feeling of emptiness he left. I wanted to engulf him all over again, seize his nuts and pull his cum out with my tongue, and I reached out to do it when he suddenly grabbed my wrists.
Before I knew what was going on, I was on my back again, wrists pinned up above my head on the couch armrest. A hot breath exploded out right against my neck and I shuddered hard. Percy was against me- on top of me- now, pinning my arms up and sitting in my lap. I was about to make a nervous quip when another hot breath blew out against the base of my neck, preceding a soft erotic bite.