FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Graham turned the knob on his door lock, then rested his head against the wood and sighed. Another day of work, come and gone, and far too many more between him and his next day off. The sound of the television in the next room was a far cry from the total silence that had greeted the mouse, for the months before his new roommate had shown up, but that didn't matter. The moment he was safely in his apartment, the familiar impulse to just... stop... overtook him. Eyes shut, round ears flat against his head, pince-nez glasses in one hand. Nothing but the gentle rise and fall of his breath and the dull ache of legs that still protested from the hours spent on his feet. He felt a pressure behind his forehead. Not a headache, but a weight. He focused on it, as he took another deliberate breath in, then out. In, then out.

The sound of a fictional gunshot, from the next room, broke him out from the trance that he would have been all too happy to stay in, at least for a few minutes longer. Turning his head, he watched the colors change from the light coming from the room to his right, blankly. Then, slipping his glasses back on, he took a few steps forward and leaned his head in to the living room. "Hey," he muttered. "I'm back."

"Yo." Jewel lifted her head up from the couch, and part of her serpentine neck followed. The rest of her long snake body hung on, around, and on the floor beside the couch. Lifting a hand from the belly pocket of her hoodie, she waved. "Cable's back up."

"I gathered," Graham replied, as he leaned against the wall. "Anything good on?"

Jewel snorted, dismissively. "It's cable."

"Right." The mouse looked at the bend Jewel's tail made, as it went over the arm onto the floor, and pointed. "Is that... are you comfortable, like that?"

"It's fine," Jewel said, with a shrug. "I've definitely crashed on shittier couches, before."

"All right. If you need anything, I can see about..."

"No, no, no, no... you're already doing me a solid." Graham did not really have a response to that, so for the most part, the conversation died. Jewel shifted, curling a part of her body to reveal one of the cushions. "You wanna take a seat?" she asked. "It's your couch, after all."

Graham sighed, looking down the hallway at his bed, before looking back into the living room. "Yeah, sure."

Navigating around and over Jewel's tail was more awkward than it should have been. The section that lay in front of the vacant seat was about as wide as his chest, and Graham was so concerned about stepping on something that he settled for an ungainly arcing tiptoe over it. Then, lifting his other leg, he did something halfway between a pirouette and a barely controlled fall into the seat, where he scooched out another millimeter or so of room for his hips between the couch arm and Jewel's body. A rogue angle in the bottom of the couch dug into his spine, with the maneuver, but for someone as tired as he was, the couch was otherwise comfortable. And warm. Very warm.

Jewel sighed, her body curling and settling around the mouse. "Nothing's really on, just so you know. They're doing another marathon of Civil Forfeiture."

"Man, Channel Six is always doing a marathon of Civil Forfeiture. Lemme guess: they're auctioning off some MeFeed flexer's car that they bought by running a pyramid scheme."

"Actually, it's a megachurch pastor's, and he got sent away for tax evasion."

"Oh, shit," Graham sat up, at that. "Don't hear that combo, every day."

For a few minutes, the two of them watched the show in relative silence. The continuing adventures of Micheal MacIntosh (or "Double Mack," as the show's intro tried desperately to get one to call him) as he tried to finally turn a profit by selling ill-gotten gains was every bit as vaguely, mildly entertaining as it had been about ten seasons ago. Jewel rested an elbow against the arm rest, cheek pressed against her fist, her eyes half-focused. Graham was pulled from the mildly entertaining proceedings when he felt the snake's coils absently flex against his hip.

He looked down just as the show changed to a bright, sunlit scene. The light from the television fell on Jewel's pink scales, where they caught and bounced in just the right way to reveal the subtle, rainbow-like shine that permeated her hide. Graham, despite himself, couldn't help but marvel at the sight. Even now, he could feel the heat from that muscular tail, as it draped itself over his toes. She didn't wear pants (or, whatever the equivalent would be, when one doesn't have legs), but really it was only now that the mouse was really aware of that. Seeing her stretched out like this, all natural and...

His ears perked up, as Jewel said something. "I'm sorry, what was that?" he asked.

Jewel kept staring at the screen as she repeated herself. "Got a job interview, apparently. The movie theater wants me to come in on Friday."

"Oh." Graham shook his head, looking back at the screen. "Okay. Did you need a ride? Depending on when it is..."

"Nah, it should be fine. Besides, pretty sure you're gonna be working. Just thought I oughta let you know."

"Right."

"And hey, if it all works out, then I can start looking for an apartment."

Graham sighed. "One thing at a time, all right? I already told you, you can stay here as long as you need to."

"Yeah, yeah..." Jewel looked to Graham, out of the corner of her eye, and smirked. "We both know you want me to get outta here, so you can start having your bachelor orgies, again."

The mouse shrugged, in feigned modesty. "Frankly, I'd just settle for being naked in my living room, again. But, what can I do? I got a lady in my house, after all."

Jewel snorted. "I am not that."

Graham had half a retort forming in his head, but before he could speak it, a sound from Jewel's sweater pocket pulled them both away from the conversation. A text message notification noise, from a phone. Then a second. Then a third.

Before he could think about whether he should say it, he found himself asking the obvious question: "Is that Hank, again?"

Jewel sighed, with a growl. "Either that, or my phone really wants to tell me about my data usage."

Another notification ping.

Graham asked the second most obvious question: "You haven't been responding to him, have you?"

"No, Graham. I haven't given him so much as a 'fuck off' since last week."

"Right. Sorry, I... I, uh..."

"It's fine. I'd block him, but honestly he's not even worth that much effort."

The phone didn't ping again, for a little while. After a few more commercials, it seemed as though they were clear to watch the rest of the episode in relative peace.

When the credits began to roll (only to be cut off by more advertisements), Graham stood up. "Right. I'm wiped, actually. Think I'm gonna turn in."

"Yup." Jewel sat up, groping around for wherever she left the remote. "You want I should turn this down, or...?"

"You're fine. Honestly, if there's one thing this apartment did well, it was insulation. Just, you know..." He grinned at Jewel, woflishly. "Keep the orgies to a dull roar, for my neighbors' sake."

Jewel grinned, right back. "No promises are made."

With that, Graham climbed over Jewel's tail, and stumbled his way out into the hallway, towards his room. Once she heard his door close, Jewel reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. Her thumb hesitated, over the screen, before swiping up to unlock the screen. She opened up her messenger app. Four more messages from the contact she had recently renamed "Fuckface."

_Yo

U over urself yet?

hey

respond already_

Jewel sighed. Setting the phone to silent, she locked the phone and put it back in her pocket. Then, laboriously, she rearranged her long coils around the couch into some kind of shape that sort of maybe was comfortable enough to consider sleeping in. She didn't sleep, however. Instead, she turned her head towards the screen, and settled in to watch yet another mildly entertaining episode of Civil Forfeiture.