The Hotel
The Hotel
by Harold Kirsch
Copyright 2005. This story involves Hawk, one of my characters, and is situated inside the original version of the story that became my sprawling Under the Devil's Eye series. Hopefully it makes sense. I was going to try to publish this but I think the thing I submitted to disappeared.
Peter sat in an overstuffed chair, facing out the hotel room window. He could see a neat brick building across the road, and to the upper right, the hotel's namesake tower. True to form, the carillon was playing the knock of ten. The cougar started to dig his nails into the arms of the chair. Maybe if I make a mess of this I'll be getting even. He stopped and put his hands in his lap. Maybe I need to grow up.
Sounds of showering came out of the bathroom, a steady hiss of water, an occasional baritone humming, splashes against tile, a clunk or two. A duffel bag sat next to one of the two full beds, a pair of tall black boots neatly up against the edge of the sash, a black leather jacket and pair of jeans folded on the other chair. They belonged to the wolf in the shower.
Four days prior, he'd found out that his brother had been kidnapped. The wolf showed up on his doorstep, and made Peter's burgeoning domestic troubles seem like small fry:
"Peter Marantz? Your brother's been kidnapped."
"It's your fault," he growled under his breath, staring at the bathroom door. Hawk. What a stupid name for a wolf. The showering stopped. A few moments later, the door opened and the wolf came out, clad in only a pair of black silk boxer shorts and a red towel draped around his neck, fur damp. The room was dark, and in the light from the bathroom, all the wolf really consisted of was a hulk of black and two yellow eyes.
"Did you need to piss or something?" the wolf said. Slack-jawed New York accent. He perked up an eyebrow. "Are you going to just stare at me?"
Peter looked out the window. He heard the wolf sigh to himself, rustle around behind, then crease down onto one of the gilded beds. The cougar looked over his shoulder. Hawk was about to light a cigar.
Hawk clicked the lighter, carefuly lit the end, then puffed. He leaned back against the headboard and made a cloud of smoke in the dim room. "Sorry. Do you mind? I'll stop if you..."
"I don't mind," Peter said, regarding the window again. "I don't mind," he whispered again. I don't fucking mind. What makes you think I would fucking mind if you just sit there and do whatever the fuck you want and ask me later? His claws dug into the top of the chair arms again, blunted claws making a faint 'zip'. "Why are you still here?"
Hawk looked up. "What do you mean?" Puff. "There's no magic portal to another dimension around here. There's that door-" Black finger pointing to the door to the hallway, marred by an emergency map, "And there's the one I just came out of."
"Didn't you get two rooms?" Peter hissed.
"This place is expensive, so I only got one room. There are two beds." Hawk said this without looking at the cougar.
Peter rubbed himself back against the chair to keep his hackles down. Thoughts bubbled through his head , moving from the shock of the wolf's announcement at his doorstep clear through to, "If it wasn't for that wolf, none of this would have happened." The cat had been simmering with a combination of fear, hatred, and numb stares for four days straight. The sheer weight of it cracked in him. "You only got one room! So after being cooped up in your damn truck we get to be cooped up in a hotel room? What are you, a sadist?"
Hawk puffed again. "I'm a masochistic sadist. I hurt myself by hurting other people." Hawk said this around the cigar as he tossed the lighter to the nightstand with a clack. The sound made Peter jump, cold running down his spine, followed by a wave of chest heaves. "I didn't even ask you to come along with me. Calm down."
Peter's ears turned red and his tail fluffed out, his body lurching out of the chair. His ears flipped back and he bristled under his clothes, the anger slowly turning back his mental years. He spun to face the bed, the wolf not even flinching an eartip.
"Liar! You asked me to come along!" Peter huffed over to the door and was about to open it, then stopped. He regarded Hawk, who was sitting in exactly the same position, looking in exactly the same direction as he had been for five minutes.
"If you walk out that door, you're going to have to hitchhike five-hundred miles. Now, I could go sleep in my truck, if that'd make you feel any better."
"Fuck you."
Hawk bared his fangs. "I didn't ask you to come with me, Peter. I asked you if you knew where your brother was. When I turned to leave after telling you what happened, you told me that you weren't letting some wolf like me go after your brother alone." The wolf puffed and hissed out two streams of smoke out either side of his muzzle. "And after all that crap for nothing, you won't even appreciate a nice place to sleep instead of some pay by the minute cunt trap." Hawk still said this without looking at Peter for more than a second, yellow eyes looking around the room, almost boredly.
"I wanted my fucking brother to be okay. What's wrong with that?" Peter, you're too old to start a fight like this. Besides, you were drawn to him just like your brother -
"Nothing. But you obviously have a problem with me-"
Peter didn't let up. "Of course I have a problem with you! If Jeffrey hadn't met you then none of this would have ever happened!" At least you can say it now.
Hawk just stared, cigar in paw, the other one resting on a lifted knee. He had a scowl across his face, the only other expression he ever seemed to use aside from a twisted snarling grin that made Peter's fur bristle. "Well. Isn't that strange. Because I'm pretty suer I didn't kidnap him."
Peter still stood, shoulders hunched up, the words entering his head and fighting with his own thoughts. Hawk was more than just a thing to put up with. He was a personification of everything Peter had worried Jeffrey would get into. He was a personification of someone who got what he wanted. Peter envied that. "But you..." the words weren't there.
Hawk shifted, casually using a black paw to keep his boxers from revealing anything. "Now once again, if you want to treat me like the biggest jerk on that planet, you can go right on ahead. But I think you really need to look at what is making you prickle out like someone stepped on your tail. For example, I may have helped your brother meet his-" Hawk made patronizing bunny-ears, "Kidnapper, ahem, but I'm also the one who decided to go save him."
Peter stared through the wall. Duh. Jeffrey met Hawk - or was it the other way around? Hawk knew Alzarre, the half-assed brain-fried maned wolf kidnapper. Just a game of connect the dots. But: "You know," the wolf said out of nowhere, in his truck, watching the road, "I never even told your brother about that club he wandered into, where that dumbass plucked him away from. "
"I..." Peter started, then choked, then started again. "I don't know what to say. I don't even know what's going on any more..." The cat was filled up with conflicting emotions; a half week of fear, betrayal, relief, and something else. The fear wasn't just in response to his brother's predicament; it kept on through the aborted ride home, shortened by the storms. The fear was purely because of Hawk. Behind that cold, furrowed-brow glare was... endless lust . Oh god, Petey, that can't be true. Grow up.
"Now look. It's too late to change what room we're in. That's my fault." The wolf chuckled with a snarl. "What was I thinking? Like I said, I'll go sleep in my truck if you want. Otherwise, there are two beds at opposite ends of this room. We'll both face the opposite way and sleep. I don't snore. I'm not imposing, except for this-" Hawk waved the cigar, "-And I'd appreciate it if you just kept your mouth shut about how much you don't like guys like me. If we have to be together, then we should at least be decent."
"Guys like you." The cat said, voice shrinking. He sat back down, his own minor hulk turning into the soft fluff of a kitten, on the inside.
Hawk puffed and sucked in from his nose, sighing out a cloud. "You don't approve of guys who fuck other guys. You said it's what got your brother in trouble. I've been through this kind of thing before."
"I never said that!" Hackles up again.
"Really? At some point in my truck, you said, 'if it wasn't for guys like you, then my brother wouldn't be tied up in some basement somewhere and tortured by a sorry excuse for a fox!'"
"That's not, that's... not what I meant." Peter felt the mewling, kitten version of himself take over, scared, desperately wanting to curl up somewhere and hide. The weight of the regression felt like it would collapse his chest. 30 years of being alive for nothing.
"Then what did you mean?" Hawk looked up at the ceiling.
Peter stood up again and paced. "I don't approve of... of what you did with Jeff. He told me everything.. I mean Jeff exaggerates a bit, and he's kind of paranoid, but-"
"I don't see where he got that from," Hawk snorted.
Peter bristled, then took a deep breath. "Look. Picking him up at some job he was doing, driving him part-way home, shoving him up against a tree and, and, shoving it in his face?" It. You mean, the wolf's big black cock. It's black, right? Everything else is. Peter paused at the thought, eyes going wide.
Hawk grunted and closed his eyes.
"I mean that was the worst. I guess the stuff at the junkyard, whatever, I mean he could have said no. But you blew a fucking load in his face and then cut part of his ear off and used the little hairs in it to....!" Peter inhaled hard. "You welded a black rose out of metal and put his fucking ear hairs in it AND GAVE IT TO HIM . Jesus fucking christ that's so fucking screwed up!" Peter's jaw trembled, ears out to the side. "What am I supposed to think about that? Jeffrey's always getting into crap, maybe it's just because he's a housecat, you know what they used to say. But I don't want him getting into that kind of crap!" Admit it, it'd be fun if it wasn't for the ear thing.
Hawk went wide-eyed. "Okay, that was kind of stupid." Pause. "It was really stupid. It was.. I just had to keep going. Follow through."
"Follow through! This isn't golf!" The anger was gone now, replaced completely by defeat and tingling horror.
"Peter. I saw your brother, and I knew right away what sort of thing he wanted. And I couldn't stop myself."
"You knew what he wanted! What kind of bull-shit is that!"
"It doesn't matter if I knew or just thought I knew, but I was right. Your brother likes guys like me. Guys who wear leather and smoke cigars and growl more than they laugh and who get their way because they pick people who don't stop them. I like guys like him who like guys like me. " Hawk's lips were curled back, nosepad pointed, fangs wet and his body about to pounce clear off the bed. "And I'm not as bad as I used to be. I'm trying to be better. For instance, I wanted to save him from possible certain doom. Ten years ago, I wouldn't have done that." The expression on Hawk's face said more, and Peter knew the look. He didn't like what it said.
"I just don't know if I approve of it." Peter's voice was small.
"You already said that."
"Dammnit, H..Hawk, I care about Jeff because someone has to. It was easier when my parents were around. He's scared of things, even things he likes, and being scared of them makes him, uh, do stupid stuff." This isn't about your brother, Petey. "And I wish he wouldn't do anything at all." Because you can't either.
"Look, Peter, Jeffrey is not stupid. He didn't get himself into this mess. I didn't get him into this mess even though I feel like I did and I know you think I did. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. You just got caught up in this because you care...." Hawk grunted again and tapped off a slug of ash. "Okay, it was just a big mistake. Just all around."
Peter held his body like it was going to melt and slide off the chair onto the floor, then started to turn green around the ears. He took off his jacket and shoes, then looked to the wolf, then to the bathroom, then the window, chair, and snorted. "I have to take a shit," he said, and scurried into the other room.
He shut the door and stared in the mirror. His body looked like he was going to throw up. Don't throw up. Don't cough up a hairball like a fucking kitten. Peter was a little over six even feet tall, compactly thick and almost stocky. He looked like a faintly out of shape slab of cougar, but felt like inside he was five years old and still spotted.
Think hard about why you don't like that wolf, Petey. Is it how he smells? Hawk smelled like leather, smoke, and sex. All the time, regardless of the time of day or what mood he was in. The truck ride forced Peter to try and disregard it - doesn't anyone notice he smells like that? Or is it how he looks - That was simple. The wolf looked angry, up to no good, callous, and cold. He talks like he can do whatever he wants. And obviously he can, or else he wouldn't drop everything to rescue some simple fuck of his from an idiot. Not like me. I just did it because I was between jobs and Vickie wasn't there.... but I don't like him!
Say it enough and it'll be true. This started with that cat, Petey. He kept staring into the mirror, then splashed his face with water, watching it drip off the fur. This started with Clyde. And nothing ever happened, and you hoped it wouldn't, just so you wouldn't feel guilty. You - Peter kept leaning towards the mirror - Wanted - His breath fogged the glass - Him.
Fine. I've had it. He sighed and walked out of the bathroom, getting an eyebrow-raise from Hawk. "False alarm. You know. Cramp." He got a rather startling grin from the wolf in return. "So, would you have left him alone if he told you to?" Peter said, collapsing on the other bed in a heap .
"I wish he had. I wish I'd done it anyway. I've been through a lot. I'm thirty five fucking years old. I moved away to get away from stuff like this. It followed me. Now I'm back and it's back too." Hawk coughed and set the cigar down in the ashtray, ears wilted. "I don't think you realize what it feels like to be someone like me. To like things like this. I don't know what it's like to go after girls... it's probably more romantic. I'm not the romantic type. It's hell to me. I'm just an animal."
"I think it's the same," Peter said quietly, after a few moments of silence. He watched a moth flit around against the inside of the window, trying to get at a street light. In the faint post-upset endorphine rush, he wanted to bound over and eat it. No moths, Petey!
"Hmm?" the wolf said, sliding down under his sheets across the room, clicking off the sole source of light next to his bed.
"Well, I'm married, mostly."
"Mostly?"
"I don't feel married right now. Vickie's always off on business trips lately. She's always gone. If I wanted to be single most of the time I'd find a buddy, you know? I wouldn't move in, get married, buy a house." Peter sat up, legs crossed, tail making curves on the sheets. He looked at nothing. "I think I... despite being married to a vixen, I think I really do know how you feel," he said. He said each word carefully.
"Somehow I doubt that." Hawk gave him a look that said the opposite.
"I feel like that bug over there. By the window." The wolf didn't move to look. Peter tried again. "There's this moth that's flying around and it can't get outside, but there's a light out there. It flew in here and now it can't have its little moment of bug zen."
"Does being weird run in your family, or is a cat thing?" Hawk groused. If you knew what I was talking about, wolf...
Peter ignored the snipe. "Is that what it's like? For you?"
"For me what?"
"Liking guys."
Dead silence, save for the rush of the air-conditioner. Then, "Peter, you're not so angry any more, are you?"
"I'm kind of .... you freak me out. You make me think about what my brother thinks about, and then I think about whether or not I want to think about that kind of stuff too."
"You think too much."
"Hawk, or whatever your name is, I had a stupid point with that moth analogy. When I was 15, something happened." As Peter said this, the wolf rolled back over, propped himself up on a pillow. The cat now had a rapt audience. "Oh Jesus. At summer camp.." Peter sighed. "I was in a cabin with this big tiger named Clyde. Among other people, but the other guys were always sneaking off to get high or try to get girls. Clyde's bed was next to mine. I'd always try to sleep early, he'd always be up reading.
"One night, I found out what he was reading. I couldn't sleep for whatever reason, and so I looked over. I have really good eyesight, so I tried to read some of it through this little crack in the blankets. He'd taken the cover off a science fiction novel and put it on some really filthy porn. Like Park Rangers and Motorcycle Cops and all that."
Hawk had a look on his face like he was trying to fight a grin. It made him look like a curious wild animal.
"Obviously it wasn't girl porn. I didn't really care much. Who cares? Well, someone must've, or else he wouldn't have hid it. Anyway, so he's reading porn. But who reads porn? No, he looked around, listened carefully, and then pulled back the sheets, then his boxer shorts. And started jerking off.
"So I watched. I'd never seen another guy jerk off, so it was kind of hard to look away. Besides, I didn't think he could see me. He was huge, real big, thick, not really long. You know, sizable. And I just had to look at it.. he was so quiet about it, biting on his paw to keep from roaring, licking up the mess he spouted all over his arm...
Peter felt cold water run down his back. "And then he turned over, facing my way, and gave me this afterglow-smug 'I see you!' kind of look. I freaked out. I swear I almost peed myself. After a few moments he licked his lips and rolled over. Then I timed it and rolled over too, and eventually went to sleep."
"Did anything ever happen?" Hawk said, stretching slowly, unable to stifle a crack or two from his joints.
"No, I mean we didn't go to the same school, so I never saw him after that really. He didn't really live too close. He never really let on that it happened, besides joshing me around." " Hey Petey! Wanna go f'r a swim?" I'm terrified of water. He just wanted me to cling onto him afterwards.
"Mmmhmm."
Peter looked at the wolf awkwardly, then got out of bed and stripped his pants off, facing away. He got back into bed, clad only in boxer shorts, facing the door, heart pounding in his ears.
"You know, that's pretty funny," Hawk said, rolling back over, then sitting up in the faint light.
"I guess so. It's like some cheap porn novel. Or maybe the letter column in Penthouse. "Dear Penthouse, the mailgirl came today and gave me two jugs of milk! Wink Wink.""
"Let me finish, cat." Hawk growled, adding a chuckle. " It's funny because Clyde told me that story too."
Peter made the unmistakable sound of a cat about to cough up a hairball.
"Well, I went to Lainsville High with Clyde, and we used to fuck around. Literally. He just told me one night, while were drunk or stoned or both, or something else.. I don't remember."
Peter let out a wilted yowl. "This is so embarassing..."
"He said he'd listen each night to see if you were jerking off too-"
"Stop it, stop it..." Peter said, tailtip thwapping at the bed. He hopped out again, stood up and scratched at his back, paced over to where his things were, paced back to the bed, then stopped dead in the middle of the floor. He looked over his shoulder at the black wolf, then hunched up his back.
"Are you going to throw up?"
"No. Uh H.. uh... "
"Spit or swallow, cat."
"Hawk, what the hell does Jeff like about you?" What the hell kind of question is that? "You're just a wolf. I mean, you're a grumpy black wolf who drives a big truck. Is that it? He just likes gruff macho guys? He's had other grumpy wolves as friends and he never fucked them. I want to.. I want to see what kinds of things he sees, because I just have to know.."
"Huh?" Hawk whispered.
"Like, how you dress. I mean I've seen guys like that, I went to that Dawnrazor place you all hung out at. But... well.. I just... I just want to." There's no getting out of this, Petey.
"Do you really want to see what Jeffrey liked in me?" Hawk sighed, one hand on the sheets.
Peter nodded. Hawk was not a tiger at all, but he was suddenly the closest thing to getting what Peter had started to dream about after that night fifteen years before.
Hawk shrugged and stood up, plucked his still-lit cigar out of the ashtray, and hauled his duffel bag onto a chair. The wolf dug inside, Peter craning his neck to see. All the cat saw in the city light from outside was black.
Hawk faced away and dropped his boxer shorts, then turned around. "Okay, here we go. This is the base model wolf. Please note the fact that I don't have an erection. This is called self-control. This is unusual, apparently, because people assume I am horny every minute of the day like any other guy."
Peter drew his knees up and nodded, cracked a little smile. He tried not to look at the black, uncircumcised shaft that hung down quite artfully over the wolf's balls. It wasn't very lupine at all.
Hawk bent down and pulled something out of his bag, "I'm carrying all this stuff with me because, well, I don't really know. Always be prepared." The something was a leather vest. Smooth, glossy, simple. He slid it on, attaching the front together with chains. It looked too small, or made to fit with a wide opening under the chains, showing off his stomach. "I couldn't wear this for a while. I gave up being a lewd asshole and got a little fat. I'm a luxurious crab-ass of a wolf. Got back in shape over the last few months." To impress my brother?
Hawk was definitely not fat at the moment. He stood around six and a half feet tall, typical lupine with the sloping sides, narrow waist compared to his broad shoulders, not musclebound but not particularly scrawny.
The next thing Hawk pulled out were a pair of heavy leather chaps. The hardware clanked a bit, making the cat's ears prick up forward. The wolf stepped into them, the hide clinging to his legs. Definitely not utilitarian motorcycle chaps. He zipped them down the leg, then pulled out two more things. A pair of boots, tall and proper like English riding boots. He tugged them on, deftly folding the back of the chaps around his ankle before stepping into each shaft. The look was seamless, perfect. Impressively lean and black.
Next up was a pair of police gloves that looked like they were painted onto Hawk's hands, claws bared at the tips. The wolf flexed after putting each on, a little creak of leather. Peter shrank back.
Final touch, heavy black gauntlets that went up to the wolf's elbows, studded with short spikes and chains. They clicked and tapped whenever he moved. Hawk stood and arched up his shoulders, bared his fangs a little, and cracked his knuckles one at a time.
Peter stared, brow furrowing up, slowly making himself seem smaller. His ears reddened. I hate feeling like this. I'm not a house cat. I shouldn't get scared so fast. " I, uh, I see why they call you Hawk."
"Actually, I made up the name on the spot because I didn't want to tell some fox my name." The wolf strutted over to his bed, withdrew his cigar from the ashtray and lodged it in his teeth. "So, do you like, dislike?"
"I.... I think you're really scary like that. I'm not kidding. Holy shit, if you came up on me in an alleyway, I'd just piss myself." Petey, you're not scared. You have a fucking hard-on right now.
"Hmmph." A few puffs, cigar coming out into the wolf's gloved paw, smoke seeping out around fangs. "I don't know... you have this look in your eyes, Peter. It's creepy. Your brother gets the same way. This scared, confused, excited look. And the way you act sometimes, a little twitchy? It reminds me of him. I don't want to.....I don't know if I want to be reminded of that right now."
"Yeah, p-people say that." Peter relaxed with a tremble, let the sheets move down a bit. "I mean, he's all housecat, and I look.. I guess I have a bit of that in me, but mostly cougar. We don't look alike, but. Yeah. It makes me feel like a kitten again sometimes. I mean, not even a cub.. a kitten."
Hawk came over and stood at the foot of the bed. "You don't look so hot. Do you want me to take all this off or something?"
Peter stared. He looked Hawk up and down. His muzzle parted, then closed.
"Fine, that's a yes." Hawk turned to walk away. Peter sat up and grabbed the wolf by the wrist, the fur down his arms pricking up with a creep as he felt leather and metal. Hawk looked over his shoulder.
At that moment, the air conditioner clicked off with a dying rattle, turning the room essentially silent. Hawk slowly turned back to face the bed, standing at the corner, wrist still held by the cat's thick paw. Even if the room hadn't gone silent, Peter wouldn't have known - all he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears. I've fought with this for the last ... almost fifteen years. I might as well. I don't have much else left to lose.
Peter shifted position, moving up to the corner, paws shaking. He let go, lifting his fingers to feel over Hawk's maleness. The cat leaned in, sniffed at the swelling arousal as it slipped free of the black flesh covering it. It was so large he wasn't sure what to do, staring at it for a moment, fingerpads tracing the shape, comparing it to his own. He nosed against the head, then licked out against it. A paw closed at his shoulder, the other moving through his headfur. He helplessly opened his mouth, tongue slithering out around the musky, sweaty flesh.
Hawk let out one word, a shuddering, whispered, "God."
Peter really didn't know exactly what he should and shouldn't do, so he just carefully let his tongue move along the underside of the wolf's swollen glans, lips pushing along flesh, the inside of his fangs just barely dragged along. Hawk didn't push him away, so he tried to suck. He could manage it, but it made a lewd slurp and he flatted his ears. The wolf's cock was the only thing that existed for a few moments, taking up Peter's entire perspective on the world, a rod of flesh that barely fit inside his maw.
It wasn't bad at all. Peter was so insanely curious that the fear that had driven him moments earlier was just somewhere else. And hadn't he thought about this for years? The taste was slightly bitter, earthy, salty, the smell musky and sweaty. The cat instinctively held onto the base of Hawk's wolfhood, squeezing and pushing back a little. He felt the foreskin slip back inside his mouth, the wolf hissing out a breath between his teeth. Peter kept moving, the shaft sliding along his tongue until he felt it bump at the back of his throat. He tightened up, but didn't choke. Never had much of a gag reflex, I guess . He shifted and tilted his head to the side and suddenly felt the whole thing push down into his throat. He swallowed a few times, the wolf's paws digging into his shoulders.
The cat tried to breath and panicked for a second as he couldn't, drawing back and gasping through his nose. He let his teeth drag on the flesh, drawing back and tugging the wolf's foreskin up over the head. He pulled off, looking at the barely hooded member, then took it in again. He pulled back at the base, fooling with it, pulling the skin back, then dragging outwards again. It felt disarmingly erotic, the flesh moving against his tongue, and it made the wolf groan with a feral, lustful snarl. Peter imagined the wolf's teeth bared, dripping with spit, and it made him mew, the sound thankfully muffled. Obviously Hawk enjoyed what was being done to him, salty fluid pooling on the cat's tongue, dripping down over his chin with his own spit.
Peter figured out how do the trick with the foreskin and his teeth without using his paw, and for lack of a better place to put it, moved both around back. His pads slid along smooth leather, then off onto fur, grasping at the wolf's rump. Hawk growled and tightened his grip, which the half-cougar assumed was a good thing. He tried to suck again, the noise still a wet slurp, but the wolf was breathing heavy enough to make leather creak and cover up the sound.
Without much warning, Hawk made a sort of coughing bark and his seed flooded Peter's maw, the cat swallowing hard. It was a horrible spicy, salty torrent and he panicked, gulping and then pulling away and to the side. The rest of it spurted, then dripped, onto the bedspread. Hawk looked strained and relaxed at the same time, leaning over. He stood up abruptly and stalked over to the window, cranking it open. A cold breeze blew in, stifling the air conditioning a few seconds after it started.
Peter crawled under the covers and hid himself up, heart thundering so hard it nearly rocked him back and forth. He tried to relax, tried to sleep, tried to fade out.
The cougar didn't fall asleep. He worked his tongue in his mouth, tasting the spicy musk that was leftover, trying to wash it away. He conspicuously didn't move, remaining completely motionless. In his head, there was only buzzing noise. He was erect, and the sensation started to gnaw at him, grow painful, an ache moving into his gut. He tried to sort out how he felt, finally arriving at the drowning conclusion that he should ... explore more.
He silently sat up, looked over at the wolf by the window. Hawk was still staring out, tail moving now and then, one paw holding up on his other shoulder, the other set of gloved fingers resting on the sill. Even from behind, the wolf looked anxious.
Peter crept out of bed and padded over, making exactly no sound. He was about two feet from Hawk when the wolf turned his head around enough to see out of the corner of his eye.
"Do you think I can't see you creeping up on me? I hope it's not to stab me in the back."
"Hawk?"
"Normally, I like it when people call me that. Not now."
Peter flatted his ears. "Did I do something wrong?"
"I don't know. Did you?" The wolf said, turning around, leaning on the windowsill. Anyone passing by would have gotten a view of a wolf's bare ass framed in black leather.
"What, you mean my wife? I don't care. And if she cared, she wouldn't have just excused herself after I told her what happened with Jeffrey. Long distance. To europe. For an extra week." Peter chuckled with a hiss, moving closer.
The wolf sighed and turned away again. Peter crept closer, fingerpads reaching out and brushing against leather over the wolf's shoulders. Hawk sucked in a breath with a faint creak. The cat leaned in and sniffed; the hide smelled like musk, warm dust, and wolf. Peter swallowed and let his fingers play down the sides, then around the wolf's chest, his tented boxers moving the wolf's tail aside.
"If you think you're going to put that there, you're mistaken," Hawk growled.
Peter ignored the threat. "I've never felt a guy like this before," he whispered, nuzzling the back of the wolf's vest, then the back of the neck.
Gloved fingers grabbed onto his wrist and pulled Peter around to the side of the wolf. With no warning, teeth bit into the back of his scruff, making the cat stiffen up. "You're going to go five feet back to your right, and take off your boxers."
Stunned, the cat did as instructed, shakily dropping them, then slumping down to one knee, trying to get his head as low to the ground as possible. His body prickled with waves of numb. He looked up, breathing heavily, to see his own reflection in a full length mirror. Standing behind him was Hawk, hands looking like they deserved weapons.
"You wanted to know what your brother likes?" The wolf growled. He didn't have to say the next phrase. "You get to find out."
The cougar had an obvious conflict; freak out and run away, or go headlong into whatever it was Hawk was planning on doing. Considering it was probably what Peter had wanted the big, farm-cat tiger to do in countless dreams... he wasn't running anywhere.
"Stand up. I don't feel like crouching down there behind you like a dog," the lupine spat, and grabbed Peter by the arm. The wolf was strong enough to heft the cat up and walk him straight at the mirror, plunking him up against it. "Come on, hold onto the wall or something."
Peter's cheek mashed against the mirror, seeing a view of most of the room and most of the wolf behind him. The wolf was rummaging around in his duffel bag, pulling out something small and inconsequential, a smooth metal ring a little narrower than a slim beer bottle. "It helps me stay up after I get off," Hawk said, morosely holding up the item before tugging his cock and balls through it. The end result had the wolf's orbs framed out nicely by silver, the black length becoming turgid as the wolf stalked back up. Hawk slowly jerked himself off, milking his length until the end was glistening.
"Oh god," Peter breathed, fogging the mirror.
"Have you ever been fucked before?"
"Yeah, uh, Vicky would do it with one of her toys sometimes, uh, while she sucked me off."
"Huh." Hawk paused. "Well. This shouldn't be a surprise, then."
The wolf's fingers stroked around Peter's tailbase, the cat letting out a long mewl as his haunches lifted, tail flipping out of the way. Despite the fear of having a leather-clad black wolf wielding a sizable cock behind him, Peter was looking forward to having something shoved into his asshole. Oh shit, I can't believe I've thought about this for fifteen years , he thought, as Hawk adopted a porn-star stance and something wet bumped his tailring. Peter squeezed his eyes shut; Hawk moved forward with a protracted squeak of leather, and pain started to burn into the cat's bowels.
"Relax," Hawk growled almost under his breath, seizing the cougar by the scruff. Peter's body went stiff, his tailhole going slack. The wolf pushed in with a sigh and split him apart. Peter let out a loud chirp. "What the hell was that? Am I fucking a bird?" the wolf snorted.
Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck come on Petey don't make noises, or- The thought was interrupted by a memory. "Haha, Petey, come on, do it! do it! mew like a little kitten! haha! Petey sounds like a mouse, doesn't he! Hey little mousie, want some cheese?" Experiencing it firsthand was bad enough; being reminded of it while a wolf slowly tore his way into the cat's mostly-virgin hole was the most humiliating thing Peter ever had experienced. I hate feeling like this , he thought, forehead bumped against the glass, staring down at his own erection mashed against the surface, a clear bead of pre-seed making its way down to the floor.
The sensation of filling up reached a point where Peter was overfilled, and his claws scratched at the wall. Hawk immediately pulled himself back until the cat started to shake from the length's imminent withdrawal.
"Do you like it?"
"I don't know."
Hawk stayed exactly still, his flared head about to get pushed free. "Is that a yes or a no?"
"It's not a no. Put it back, put it back," Peter rowled, and squeaked again when the wolf pushed in with a heavy thrust. Hawk let go of the scruff and bore down on the cat's shoulders.
"Can you see it?"
"Uhhhh what?" Peter huffed, trying to look over his shoulder. Hawk grabbed tighter and hefted the cat away from the wall, shoving him over to the side, against a dresser.
"Look in the fucking mirror and watch me fuck you," Hawk snapped. The wolf was drooling from his fangs, a fleck of it falling off down onto the cat's back. Peter looked and saw it, almost ten inches, then almost nothing visible, then again, then again.
He started to tense up and couldn't stand it, the rush of climax coming over him. He fought and clenched painfully around the wolf, and pain erupted through his arm as Hawk twisted it behind his back. The cat bucked off Hawk's shaft and nearly flipped the dresser over. "HOLY SHIT!" He grabbed up a candlestick and prepared to leap at the wolf. "You better fucking-"
"Did you shoot?"
Peter blinked. He looked down at his drooping cock. "Uh, what? What the fuck no! You fucking tried to break my arm!"
"But you didn't get off. I don't want you getting off before me. Get over there, on the bed, and lie down. On your back."
Peter, against every shred of judgement he had, went over and did what the wolf asked a second time. The wolf clomped up and grabbed Peter's ankles the moment the cat had sat down, tilting him backwards, legs splayed.
The cougar was wide-eyed as he watched Hawk bear down on him, tilting the legs further and further back until the wolf's wet cock was in perfect alignment, then pushing in again. Unlike the first time, there was only the indescribable feeling of girth sliding inside. Peter's jaw hung open and he made a series of chirping yowls.
"Everyone's going to hear you, cat. And everyone's going to know what's going on in here."
Peter's ears turned red inside, his erection slapping his belly, first silently, then with a wetter and wetter sound as his fur soaked in with preseed. The wolf was slow and steady, yet somehow punishingly hard with his thrusts. His teeth were bared, that awful smirking grin showing through now and then. Peter reached for his own aching member and was swatted away by leather.
"No. I get to do that," Hawk snarled, wrapping his fingers around the cat's shaft. Peter stared numbly at the black, glossy hide pumping along his cock, the wolf's balls as they smacked up against him, the beast's tortured lustful expression. "Hrrrrrrgh. For someone who gets pegged by his bitch's own dildo, you're tighter than I would have thought."
Peter looked away, meekly holding his legs, face burning so hot he thought his fur would start to smoke. Hawk wasn't just rough, but immensely rude. Just when Peter thought the wolf was going to shut up - "You look just like your brother did, when I fucked him."
Don't say that, don't say that, don't say that don't say that don't say that!!!!!!!!!!
The humiliation burned so hard that Peter felt like he was going to climax and then went past it, his shaft turning into a rod of the weirdest, most urgent pain. Half-consciously, he was tightening up inside, desperately trying to stave off his own climax. The tighter he got, the rougher Hawk lurched into him, and the more he felt that thing pressing against his best spot inside. White oozed out of the pink cone of his cockhead, the cat groaning and making a weird growling sort of whistle. Hawk's face suddenly became so enraged that Peter swore he saw the wolf's breath in the chill of the room, the thrusts kicking him right at his limit. Hawk suddenly stopped, his paw tight around the cougar's maleness.
Peter went off. He made no sound at all, a copious and wet mass of seed spurting out of his shaft, matting his bellyfur down, going as high as his chest. The pangs subsided, and he looked dumbly at the wolf's seed-flecked leather-clad paw. Hawk lifted it to pull it away, but Peter got ahold first. He pulled it forward and slowly, silently licked the remains away.
Hawk stared, then pulled his paw back and clenched his fist hard enough to crack the knuckles. The wolf then turned and stalked over to the other bed, turning away and hurridly ridding himself of all the gear, while Peter lay and stared at the ceiling.
Without words, the wolf took up in his bed and lay still. Peter fell asleep without realizing.
He woke up before Hawk, looking over to see the wolf still asleep, breathing slowly, tail moving now and then. Poor thing.
The cat crept out of one bed and into the other, careful not to disturb Hawk. He gently slid a paw into the wolf's fur, stroking. No response. He dug his nails down in, the lupine growling softly and arching his back. Then a bark.
"You. What the hell do you think you're doing?" He grabbed Peter's wrist.
"I'm just being affectionate."
"Don't." Hawk sat up. "Get out of my bed."
Stunned, not to mention half-asleep, Peter blinked and backed away. He promptly fell to the floor with a thud, staring up at the wolf leaning over the edge. "I'm sorry."
"We're going to get dressed, get in my truck, and get on the road. I'm going to drop you off at your house. Then, I'm going to turn around and pretend this never happened. Is that what you want?"
Peter thought for a moment, then smiled on the inside. "Yes."
Unlike the wolf, he didn't try to forget.