Fallen King - 2023
#1 of The Final Age
I guess it's a start for a personal story series I'm making. It will be called 'The Final Age' because I have finalized the setting two weeks ago.
All of these characters belong to me.
Despite this being the first story completed, it's actually the third chapter.
For the sneak peek: And don't worry, I can speak the 'ancient tongue' but I'm more fluent in English.
Fallen King
There was an animan deer hunched over on his seat. Arthur perused his mobile device, a flat rectangular glass with functional and moving lights. A disinterested glare from his face as he swiped left to reject several ignorant bachelors.
The reflection on his device showed a gray-furred deer, clearly masculine facial features with his rigid chin, narrow eyes, and the formation of a subtle goatee on the tip of his furred muzzle. But on the way to the immigration offices, from a distant window of a dress store he saw a doe that would fit into one of its wares. For he had fangs instead of antlers, such is his kind of deer subspecies from Inylsen.
That name still left a sour linger whenever he came across it. Most of it was his fault. Both the events that led to him leaving, and the reminder of what he did. All of which would be another story.
Now, however, it was finding love, and becoming someone else entirely. Someone who wasn't from that world, both he and the partner, though chances of finding the latter were slim. And they must not be a horse. They're the other part that was at fault. Luckily Earth didn't have a lot of it.
A backwater world, this place; lack of magical integration in their system, and technology so far behind, it only had physical holo-light as its best. It played to his favor at least, because he was able to find a job discrete enough to get by unnoticed, but not too complex that he couldn't do. He was a cashier at a food place.
Problem was he couldn't get paid unless he was a full citizen. And he had done things unbecoming of him; groveling to his employer for under-the-desk payment, and having to wait for nearly a year for his citizenship to be finalized. It was a grueling test of his patience, but here he was making sure to finish it once and for all.
He had sat and changed seats for the last three hours as the line slowly progressed. The room was bland with its cheap plastered walls, fake plants, and luminescent bulbs that flickered every ten seconds. Very synthetic bleach smell that stayed on the floors, or something rotten that lingered under the seats A lot of animen around him were antsy about it, muttering grievances about all of this lousiness. But some who did would walk by them all cheerful and relieved moments, having acquired citizenship.
Others would be unconscious, dragged by robotic security after the initial sounds of a scuffle. Something Arthur wouldn't admit that such a world taught him about perspective, and how there were worlds far worse than this.
Hopefully none of the knocked out people were his potential dates. Still on that dating app with little luck of anyone who'd be worth his time. Too many deers, and they kept messaging him thinking he was a lady. Arthur went back to his profile, a simple photo of himself posing in front of a blue-green statue depicting a lady in a toga held a torch up high, and held three books of sorts. On his page, below the photo, was a clear display of his sex, and a personal disclaimer that he was definitely a guy looking for another guy.
Then his phone buzzed like it always did when he received a potential match. This time it was a jackal who was clearly into men, and wanted to hook up with him while acknowledging that he was a guy.
The guy's name was Tuck, and his first message was, "Hey! Guessing from your profile you get mistakenly called a lady too, huh? Wanna groan about it over lunch? My treat :)"
That got Arthur's cotton ball tail wagging. He replied, "Sure. Just gotta do an errand today. Where do you want to eat?"
"Was thinking at an RnR." Tuck typed out.
"That is way out of my paygrade, y'know." Arthur answered honestly. Well, almost honestly. It was honest until he could claim his citizenship. And that would be before lunch at least.
"Aw, such a gentleman." Tuck answered. "Don't worry, I just want to leave a good first impression."
"Seeing as you didn't think I was a lady from the get go, I say you already have." Arthur stood up and sat another seat closer towards one of the many interviewing rooms.
"I'll be right back for now then, Arthur. Work calls." He said.
"Good luck. You can call me Arty."
"See ya Arty! :)"
That made Arthur smile, warmth sweltering in his chest. For almost a year only then did it feel like the tides turning. Small at the start, to then grow as he flourished in the world. And he didn't have to be alone for it any more. Could be just him, the room seemed brighter than when he entered it. Or the light bulb actually fixed itself.
While waiting for his turn, he read into the state of things. It was far enough from his already-discrete home that he had never seen it appear in an article once. They all decided to stay their way. Especially against an ever changing universe. This just in, for example, scientists from a similar-sounding world called 'Aereath' had made landfall on Thear; the center of literally everything. Knowing that that was what tied their existence down went against all forms of teaching and scripture from Inylsen, and he would be branded a heretic.
Arthur continued reading up on the findings. It was theoretically an inhabitable world, but energy deposits made artificial growth nearly instantaneous. Anyone who had dreams there would see a common vision, the article stated. He whispered to himself, "A winged reptile of darkened silver?" Followed by artistic renditions of a lizard that depicted the more common grim reaper, but with silvery robes instead of black cloth.
His train of thought paused when Tuck messaged him. With a lit-up face, both from the notification and his mood, he read the message.
"What'cha up to, Arty? :3"
"Getting some paperwork done." He replied, not technically false. The vagueness gave him a sense of calm, knowing that he was already paid illegally and didn't want to compromise himself further.
"Hah, same TwT" Tuck answered. Arthur thought he was very expressive, found it cute and maybe should do it himself too. "Hopefully it's not too bad. Just typing it down, right?"
"Not exactly. Have to write it."
"Ah, that kind of paperwork. New job?" Tuck wondered.
It was getting too close for comfort, and he hoped he wouldn't reply after, "Kinda, yeah."
"Congrats! I hope it goes well! O:"
Arthur sighed in relief, and his position started to move again. The seat was next to the door of his immigration processing, a simple brown door with a palm plant in a vase beside it. It looked alive, judging by some of the withered leaves. Definitely needed sunlight. And it made him look around if there was such a spot for it. There wasn't.
"Be right back now, work calls!" Tuck said.
"Hope it goes well on your end! :D" Arthur replied, and went back to reading the article. It went from the findings and more towards the whole political jargon involved. A lot of research monopolization, blockades, and leveraging. The tiny amount of respect that he had for the Aereatheans today shriveled into being despised. Galaxies of scientific communities protested against such a movement, while Aereath and their selected benefactors dismissed such sentiments, while hinting large findings.
A very unpleasant carrot and stick approach, feeding on his curiosity. Would he have sided with them back then? An impossible question now that he thought about it. He switched to the next article, about the history of Earth. A quick conquest of an already weakened human race, after the fall of 'God', humanity's champion. Enslavement, a quick era of prosperity, followed by its plunge into obscurity of being in an underdeveloped galaxy, and forgotten by those far more advanced. He heard this place being called an S-tier political refuge when he first came here. It echoed in his mind each day, and that moment was the daily reminder.
But the last few weeks, days that he got closer to securing his citizenship lingered a trillion credit question: "Should he, the fallen king, return to Inylsen?" And he shut off his phone, looking over his reflection on it. The face of a guilty man, a traitor because his heart answered no at a question he shouldn't have asked. A cold sweat dripped down onto the screen, and he wiped it twice. While mid-wipe, he saw himself donning a three-pronged crown, with treated fur, and an upperwear adorned in purple. Before returning to his shaggy outlook, and wearing a cheap yellow nylon long-sleeve, with a torn shirt underneath it.
He took a deep breath. A question to answer when he's obtained a trillion credits. Even then, it was not the kind of wealth he'd achieve in one lifetime. Why bother? And so began an internal argument, with the call home as a sense of duty that beckoned to his lineage. Whereas of his own interest, that the former would call selfish, ill-advised returning to the people who shunned him for being a cowardly king despite all the effort he made to stand up against the age of redundancies.
A deeper sigh quieted them down, pausing this bickering for home. Or to fill the gap when business went slow. Plus he didn't want to burden a date with his nonsense. He reread exchanges earlier, filling a joy he needed because someone saw him for someone he wasn't, a lady, and an exiled royalty.
One more sigh and he was ready. But the current immigrant was still not done, so he went over Tuck's profile to pass the time.
Tuck Alvarez presented himself as a jackal in a very slim pink jacket in his profile photo. His fur a blend of gray and brown, the latter more prominent to his front. His interests were simple living, exploring, and going to parties on Friday nights.
Maybe another date in two days would be nice. This time it would be his treat.
The profile went on to talk about how Tuck wanted someone who loved to live life and have fun. Go around Earth, and maybe the moon too. His dream was to explore Saturn and visit its rings.
That was one thing Arthur wanted, though not specifically Saturn's rings. Exploration, and relishing in it. Maybe he could make it happen and more, but he ought to be careful because he hadn't met the guy yet. Something he should've told himself way earlier, but hey, better late than never.
Speak of the purple horse, Tuck messaged, "Almost lunch! :D wha'cha wanna hava fora luncha?"
"RnR has hotdogs, right?" Arthur answered, and the door opened followed by the sound of a beep from the inside. A bear walked out all peppy and smug, holding a certificate in his right hand, and strutted down the hall. He was eager to be that guy.
"Right." Tuck said. "There's just one more thing to do at work and I'll see ya there, okay?"
Arthur got up, wallet with his money and confirmation receipt ready to show. Leaving Tuck one more message before he became an Earthean, "I'll see you too :3" And sent as he stepped into the office.
The beep came from the interviewer's phone. A jackal whose fur was gray and brown, the latter more prominent on the front side of things. There was a silent pause, interrupted by the door sliding to a close.
"Would it be weird that I imagined you to be one of my interviewees?" Tuck said in a mix of astonishment and giddiness. He stood up and went over to shake Arthur's hand. The jackal didn't look the part as an immigration officer; simple casual wear with a jacket that had his I.D.
"Never crossed my mind, honestly." There was a smile as he shook, a worry beneath it that his reply wasn't as cheesy. So he had to save it, "Was too busy thinking of a jackal in a cafe that I couldn't afford."
It was a good answer, with Tuck tugging him over to the chair in front of a desk which he himself sat on. "Now how about we have a special interview? Get to know each other my dear deer." His fingers tickled the giggling deer's chin. His own tail swished across a mostly empty desk, save for the paperwork and a lamp as its paperweight on the edge.
Arthur's cotton ball wagged against the cushion, smiling as he saw the jackal's eyes. Unassumed, enthusiastic, and optimistic. "Alright, so how should this start?"
"Tell me your name, and where you're from," Tuck said. "We'll start with that."
"I'm Arthur Liaseon, drifter." Simply put, and correct. Hopefully it was enough.
"Lost your homeworld?" Tuck reached out and held his shoulder, a shift from eagerness to sympathy that the deer had not been shown at all.
A tear welled down Arthur's eye, which seemed to affirm Tuck's assumptions. But he told him in a truthful quivering, "Exiled. So in a way, yeah. I lost my homeworld." His internal voices argued in the midst of all this, agreeing that they were truly dead to him, that he should no longer return. Made him shed more tears. But the counter to it was that he should return to save them.
Tuck offered his handkerchief, "What did you do?" A stern tone, worried for a different reason. He added, "If we find out you're an escaping criminal then we have no choice but to deport you."
"No!" He answered instantaneously, surprising the jackal who leaned back and shielded himself with an arm. Arthur had given off the wrong impression, but he had gotten this far already. Composing himself, hunched down, surprised that Tuck hadn't kicked him out yet, even offering that handkerchief still. He eventually took and wiped his muzzle with. When he felt ready, and by that it was more tears pouring out of his eyes, he said, "I was forced to leave because I had a different belief. That the Three Suns were not the center of the universe." And he clarified further, "Which were our deities. Inylsen, where I'm from, doesn't want modernity, even though the old ways were sapping our lands dry. We had too many mouths to feed, the horses gave us too many mouths to feed. And I insisted on visiting the stars."
"Were you a scientist?" Tuck tilted his head.
"A king." Arthur answered, already knowing that having blurted out such information was extremely foolish of him. To the only person who even gave a damn about it as well. "Fuck." He said, harshly to himself. "I'm gonna get deported, aren't I?"
There was a very deep sigh from the jackal who got up and sat behind his desk eyeing the jittering deer. He glanced over his paperwork, then over to his phone where he asked about Arthur's home. "Inylsen? Spell please?"
"I-n-y-l-sen." He felt each syllable was a guillotine dropping on his future here. His future, period. The trillion credit question receiving the cheapest answer out there. Already foresaw, akin to how the prophets would do, in an orb of water where he saw his mangled self paraded on the Plateau of Gold and Purple. Desecrated by the horses, and their descendants. The deer kind being reviled for centuries to come.
"Thank you." Tuck answered monotonously and read up on the world. From time to time he would glance over the deer.
Arthur would see old paintings through the jackal's phone. It was his portrayal as king. Remembering the daunting hours he posed for it instead of communicating with the alien worlds of Palluvians and the Bathoertians. He still believed that his advisor insisted on finishing it, that way he would give up this path of innovation.
When he saw the paintings of a silver-furred horse in that three pronged crown and purple robes, Arthur's heart sank. In a similar but coincidental motion that Tuck had put the phone down. "Arthur," he got the deer's attention. "Do you want to go back to Inylsen?"
"No, not yet." And there it was, the answer. He looked up to see sorrowful eyes on the jackal. "Please don't deport me. I don't want to go back," Arthur muttered.
"I'm not. I just wanted to make sure." Tuck went around on the other side, and sat on the desk while holding Arthur's shoulder again. "But what did you mean by 'yet'?"
It was Arthur's lineage, his pride as Inylsenian royalty, that answered on his behalf. His tone then was exhausted, defeated, but eager for retribution, "I want to save my people before the world eats itself to death." The fur on his muzzle was scruffier, and had been dried of tears. Folding the handkerchief and placing it on the table, he exchanged a relieved gaze with Tuck who received his answer well.
"You're gonna need a lot of bravado, and low-end jobs to do that y'know." Tuck pocketed his handkerchief. "And you certainly need more than a date to help you recover from all that." He winked.
It was Arthur's turn to be astonished, giddiness filling him as he wondered how someone would react in such a manner. "Is it because this place is what one would say an 's-tier political refuge'?"
"Mhm. Your story's not new" Tuck said.
It hurt Arthur for a moment, but it retorted the thought of perspective earlier.
The jackal went on, "This isn't the first time I've had someone tell me of them being an exile. Not from a fantasy world, a medieval one, and from religion. Though, first time for someone from Inylsen, and someone who's really cute. Mostly grumpy guys and some hags. Like, man. I'll tell ya during our date."
"Isn't that confidential stuff though?" Arthur glanced around for cameras, or recording devices and tools, which there were none.
"Again, your story's not new. A few change of names, and you could be someone from Hallor, or even Aerth. Arty, it's no big deal." Tuck held both his shoulders this time, a gentle squeeze to ease the deer. "And you certainly express more desire to right things than my previous interviewees."
That gave him a sense of self respect, holding one of the jackal's arms and squeezed it too. "Thanks." He smiled. But a realization kicked in, "Hopefully this interaction doesn't interfere with your professionalism."
"Nope," he moved his body upright once more, giggling. "I still have to charge you, and you have to take the oath." Tuck showed his paw, gesturing at the deer for the cash. "Pay up. And no, no discounts."
"Of course of course," Arthur got his wallet from his pants pocket, fished out an orange 100-credit bill, and placed it on the empty paw. He returned the wallet but Tuck's paw was still out there.
"It's a hundred and twenty?" Tuck repeated the gesture.
The deer fetched his wallet to see if he had any bills or coins left while his mind went back and wondered where the extra money had gone. It wouldn't have mattered nonetheless because he'd still be short of having to pay it. Another cold sweat as he exchanged looks with Tuck who was disappointed, but humored by it. Arthur explained, "I can pay you back once I get my citizenship. Because..."
"Job can't pay you in full unless you're a citizen? Fair." Tuck got his wallet out and added a twenty alongside the hundred credit bill.
"Holy shit, thank you. I'll pay you back this Friday." Arthur said enthused, standing up with his arms raised in victory as his tail fluffed and wagged.
"Literally or in the form of drinks?" Tuck leaned behindand stuffed the money inside a drawer. He smiled when he glanced back to the deer, tail wagging at the proposal.
"Drinks. It'll be on me." Arthur smiled.
"A second date, I like the sound of that. I drink mocktails though if that's fine with you." Tuck smoothened the dried out fur on Arthur's muzzle, a finger brushed over his fang that revealed a gentle pink amidst the gray fur.
"I'm not much of a drinker myself." Arthur said, holding the hand that held him. Warm, sincere, yet firm. Something he hadn't felt in a long while, or if at all. All those years of leading people into the light, they only seduced him back to the dark. And under the limelight of a fluorescent bulb was the heaven that he wanted. Tuck had beautiful dark brown eyes.
"A king that doesn't fancy wine at all?" Tuck gazed into Arthur's. These fallen king's eyes were light brown. "Maybe because you wanted beer?"
Arthur shook his head because either drink had bad taste. And he smiled when Tuck did too. This went well thus far, all that's left would be the oath. "So I get to recite it now, right?"
"Nope." Tuck answered with a hint of deviousness with that grin and narrowing eyes.
"But I thought-" Arthur's lips were pressed by the jackal's fingers, before the tip of his muzzle was caressed in a very intimate manner. Four under his chin, and his thumb stroked the tip of his nose, the scent of money was very strong. A gentle tug tilted his head downward where he noticed a twitching bulge on the jackal's jeans. "I..." The pink was more pronounced, intensifying itself into a beet red.
The jackal was embarrassed himself, tail curling upwards with furred cheeks of nearly the same color. "I've, uh, never gotten this far. And I was wondering if you're alright with it."
"I'm okay with it." Arthur closed the gap between his nose and Tuck's urge, eliciting a moan from him. He was rewarded with head strokes, and an encirclement on his forehead where antlers would be. "I come with fangs, not antlers," he said.
"Cool," Tuck unbuttoned his pants with one hand, and tugged each side with it. "Always wanted to do it here. And don't worry, I've done two hour interviews. It's only been forty five minutes."
It was that long already? Arthur's eyes widened thinking it had been less. Enough time for him to enjoy what the jackal was packing, and he could definitely smell the sweat of having to sit by in a poorly insulated room. A good long whiff of a very erotic scent. The kind that he had read and watched, but never experienced it genuinely. He pressed his nose against it, and could tell that it was girthy. Instinct had his hands crawl up on Tuck's slender legs and thighs, one of them encroached on the jackal's shaft.
Tuck's breathing intensified as his fingers closed in, making pleasured noises when the deer's index finger brushed over the tip that was half the length of his thigh. A moan followed when he felt the soft pressure from the fabric, with thorough squeezing.
Because Arthur could not believe how well-endowed this jackal was. Even if the pants had gone down halfway under the desk top, hanging from his heels, where he could see the coffee-colored cock leaking pre on his left thigh with delighted throbs. "May I?" Arthur's hands already at the underwear's garter, tugging it prematurely.
"Mhm," Tuck leaned backwards, both hands standing behind as he would let the fantasy deer do his magic. "It's all yours."
Arthur tugged it down slowly, as his own shaft bulged itself against his jeans. The jackal's dick was eager to right itself out of the underwear, having a slight upper right curve at full mast. His eyes followed its foreskinned tip bobbing on its release, clear fluid dribbling down its base with strands swinging in the motion. The smell was stronger, trancing him to get down to it. "Thank you." He said, the tip of his nose bumping against Tuck's cock.
"Ah," Tuck let out a noise, tail wagging more behind. He was about to make a remark, but he'd rather let the deer do as he pleased.
He gave it a lick from half its base all the way to its tip. Very salty, yet his mesmerized state made it taste so sweet. Leaned back, he admired it once more; throbbing to full mast that he could see its dickhead peeking, as more pre oozed out. Tuck was a squirter of sorts. Below it were plumpy furred sacs that he caressed, making the jackal suppress his own moan, changing its tone as his fingers juggled these dark brown fluffy orbs.
"Mmmmph," the jackal above moved to caress the back of his head, fingers going behind his ears. While another set of fingers traced behind his head going downward.
Arthur below let out a warm exhale against Tuck's shaft, musk circulating around him as tingles relaxed him in a manner unfelt before. There would've been hearts for eyes as he looked up, admiring the jackal who definitely pleased him.
"Good job so far, Arty," Tuck said warmly as another hand caressed the deer's other cheek while leading it to his tip. And it bounced at the deer's sudden lick of it, jolting his legs that nearly bounced if not for Arthur who had been knelt against it.
Arthur upped the ante, lapping at the bouncing tip like a mutt before gently tugging on the foreskin with his lips. He glanced upwards at a very eager Tuck who was leaned back while gripped to the edge of his desk.
The deer took a deep breath of jackal musk as his lips slid around Tuck's throbbing cock. His tongue felt his skin folded backwards as he took the entire length in one go.
"Ho-holy sh-" Tuck panted, hand gripped against the back of Arthur's head. He had him stay in place for a moment as the deer's tongue lulled around in surprise and service. "I didn't..." he tried not to shout it out as lust overwhelmed him. His body heat flared in passionate ecstasy, "I didn't think you'd go take the whole thing...". He panted. "...Arty. Fuck."
The sudden motion certainly caught him offguard, and was surprised that Tuck was surprised he could take his entire length in one gulp. Thinking about it now, with the tip bumping against the back of his throat and his nose being tickled by the jackal's crotch fur, he was impressed with himself. The other thing that comics had taught him was incorporating more tongue play that shuddered his partner's body, which in turn made him shiver giddily.
Tuck looked down, watching him lean back as his saliva-slathered dick came into view, its foreskin pulled back. Slobber mixed with pre oozing down on his underwear. And Arthur stroking him off spread it on the front and rear parts of it, and some on the deer's jacket too.
Arthur took half of it back in, while the other he stroked in a ring of his index and thumb. His other paw massaged the jackal's nuts, feeling it tense and sway to its heftiness. And his head bobbed, matching the strokes, while Tuck purred with a hand going under his shirt and rubbing his own nipple.
Motions like this went on for another five minutes with Arthur trying out a few more techniques he picked up. The deer's tongue circled around the glans, half buried into the skin. Tuck's pants had been put aside, with his foot pressing itself against his partner's bulge time and again.
Arthur shuddered but did not relent as his head bobbing took up the entire length every two seconds. His lungs must've been filled with musk because his entire body was on fire. The salty taste of Tuck's shaft, intensified by his cock being massaged. Moaning, his mouth acting as a vibrator that brought the jackal closer to the edge.
Tuck huffed, chuckled under his breath as his back arched behind. "I'm getting close here Arty," he said with gritted teeth. His left leg raised in the motion that he was about to shoot, while his right foot side-stroked the deer faster. He rested on his elbow while both hands were inside his shirt, pinching his nipples as his entire body neared a state of euphoria.
Arthur bobbed his head a few more times, and gave Tuck's nuts a gentle caressed squeeze as he deepthroated the entire length. It bounced so much in his mouth but he didn't want to make a mess for either of them. He curved his tongue and twirled the tip around his cock that struggled itself free. But it relaxed within moments, followed by a sequence of moans as cum started hitting the back of his throat.
The jackal hissed out as the melting sensation of lust with a hint of budding love awashed all over him. "Cumming..." he sighed out as the rest of his body relaxed. His right foot could feel an expanding wet spot on the deer's jeans.
Arthur had gone the way of the jackal himself, feeling one of his thighs coated in sticky warmth, while he kept gulping down jackal seed. He slid his head backwards, slurping halfway through to get a taste of his male-milk. It was salty, sticky, and very warm. Suckling on it until the erection had gone down, as did his own too. Although his body was still hot, his legs stiffened and exhausted from having cum himself, though a bit embarrassed by the dark spot on his pants' left thigh. He sat back down on the chair, the afterglow caressing him all over still. "Can you hold my cheeks again?" He dizzily glanced at the jackal sitting back up and putting his pants on without the bother of tucking his shirt in.
"Of course," after Tuck sorted himself, he walked with unbuttoned shoes and held both deer's cheeks. "Was that your first time?"
Arthur cleared his throat, his own breath smelled of dick and cum but his reply wouldn't be as appropriate. He said, "With someone I like very much, yeah."
The jackal moved his arms under the deer's lifting him up into a tight embrace. "Oh Arty, oh..." His body vibrated in purrs as his paws traced along the deer's back.
"I...." Arthur embraced him tightly too, resting his chin on the jackal. He felt his own heart thumping, almost in sync with Tuck's too. Something crumbled within him then and there, letting him bawl louder for a quick moment.
Tuck patted his back, hushing him even though it wasn't his intent. A long trace of his paw from the back of his head all the way down to the base of his tail. The deer calmed himself after, sniffling to a calm.
"Thanks, Tuck." He leaned back all blushy, looking at those smoky quartz eyes.
"Of course, Arty. Thanks for fulfilling a fantasy." Tuck smirked at him, giggling.
Instinct pushed the deer to go for the kiss, but he was stopped by the jackal's index finger.
"Okay dickbreath, maybe not after sucking me off." He pinched his side, making the gray fur stand with a sound of yip from the deer's lips. "I'll buy you a choco mint drink, okay?"
"Ha! Sure." Arthur smiled, and received a consolation kiss on the cheek nonetheless. "I still have to recite the oath, right?"
The oath wasn't too deep nor specific with its wording. It's a simple allegiance to Earth and its 'development'. But he felt like something would be done in regards to it. Just a notion. And he found it unconventional to recite it after a guy he just sucked, with every pronunciation of 's' seeping out his dick breath.
After all that, Tuck handed him a physical certificate of Arthur's citizenship. Something for show because there were digital legitimacies to the system at the very least. He then said, "I'll just submit the paperwork and dosh to management, tidy myself up a bit, and see you at the RnR, okay? When you're out of immigration, head right three blocks down. Reserve us a seat, and try not to speak too close to the waiters, okay?"
"Hah, yeah." Arthur wagged his tail upon reading the certificate. It said: 'Under the authority of Head Immigration Kerrigan Malifax, I hereby declare Arthur Liaseon a citizen of Earth.' An ear-to-ear grin on his face. "Thank you so much, Tuck."
"Okay deer-y, get us a seat before others would take it." He tapped at the button of his shirt, "And hide that wetspot of yours. I could smell it from here."
Arthur immediately unbuttoned and untucked his shirt, tying the former around his waist in a manner that hid his messied thigh. "Good point."
Tuck went past him and waited by the door, "Do you want to do it again some time?"
He followed, folding in the certificate, "Yeah, as long as we don't get caught."
"No promises." Tuck opened the door and strutted out confidently going to the left.
Arthur could smell his own musk, and the scent of deer and jackal escaping the room. His cheeks were pink, and rather than getting curious eyes, he jogged out trying to pass it off as excitement by raising the certificate in the air with his other paw holding onto his tied up shirt.
Thankfully, rather than gawks and raised brows that hinted at his debauchery, he got envious stares and eyerolls that he was all too familiar with.
He was outside the office, the building behind him a lowly structure of five floors with a white cemented exterior with balconies on all except the ground. Along the street were buildings of similar nature, and with altering design. Latter of which were bricked buildings that served as housing for the more fortunate denizens. The sidewalks were cracked, and have been for at least five years, and roads of fresh asphalt with dated cars driving on top of them. There were the occasional flying cars that flew overhead, and beyond it would be a turbine aircraft that flew under an artificial sky. It had an artificial sun, but at night it would have an artificial moon with artificial stars.
This was Earth, and he was a part of it now.
Three blocks going to the right, and through a stream of people going into the lunch rush, he was lucky to have found a seat for two in the RnR cafe. It was your typical coffee shop with pseudo-wooden material, hipster benches without back support yet had arm rest, and slanted-legged tables with an almost flat surface; there were holes on both right hand sides which would be its cup holders.
Despite the cheapness it felt being inside, a quick glance of the menu showed items that were farther out of his pay grade than he thought. Coffee, sandwiches, soups, cakes, and pastries that were three times the price of the fast food joint further down the planet's crust. And they all looked like half the portions normally served too.
"Hey Arty," Tuck joined him way sooner than he expected. He urged him to scoot over so he could sit beside. The jackal leaned his head on the deer's shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.
Arthur felt his nose twitch against his fur, "Hey Tuck." A smile after saying his name, tail wagging against the empty space where a backrest should be.
"I should get you breath mints next time as well." He wrapped an arm around while going over the menu too. "But a drink should be enough." The other hand placed his work jacket on his lap.
"Yeah, but this place is expensive." The deer still couldn't believe that a hotdog was about 180 credits, but it came with chips and a salad. One in his area would've been about 30 credits.
"My treat, my deary deer dear." Tuck kissed him on the cheek again and signaled a waiter.
A white-furred lion came by to take their orders. Tuck did all of it for them, his own orders were a small meat pie, an alien frappe with close ties to chocolate. And for Arthur, it was the hotdog with chips and salad, and a choco-mint frappe. He also made a request for the drinks to be first ASAP, nudging at the deer making him blush. Making an excuse of how thirsty he was.
After the lion had written it down and left, Arthur said, "That was a Palluvian lion, y'know."
"I've heard them maybe once, but it was like a trivia question in a game show." Tuck looked on at the lion passing the order to the baristas. "What's special about them?"
"Magical roars, and they can only do self defense." Arthur sighed, reminiscing of the insightful stellar-calls he had with one before. "Many moons before I was exiled, I used to share information about our own kind to them, and they to us. They shared to us new ways of metallurgy for stronger yet lighter armor. I passed to them charts of very distant stars, all the way to what is now known as Thear."
Tuck whispered, "I'll say, you're the least posh and very agrarian king I've ever met."
"'Become another to endure the other.'" Arthur quoted the proverb of an old feline king. He told it himself when he got here over and over, besides being a royal refugee.
"Well, if it's any comfort for you, you don't have to hide yourself from me. Just don't be the typical kingly ass and we'll get along just fine." Tuck's body shifted close, his hand much closer to the deer's still wet crotch.
"Y-yeah, I-" Arthur gulped as he felt experienced fingers clasping his thighs. The squishing motion brought out the musk, and he felt himself get hard. This time though, his shaft became erect in the other direction, and he gulped again.
"I bet you don't want to make a mess of your pants again, huh?" Tuck goaded, feeling him up. Fingers swirled around the tip of the bulge and it twitched against his touch.
"N-no," Arthur panted. "C'mon, we're in public."
"Don't worry," Tuck unzipped it, his digits massaging the deer's underwear. "We're not gonna get caught."
In a quick breath, his dick was out underneath the table. Exposed to the cafe's cool air, it throbbed like crazy as it permeated a strong musk. He moved a tied sleeve under it so pre wouldn't get onto the floor. His eyes darted to Tuck's lap, the jacket folded enough with his body leaned forward enough to hide their little game.
Arthur felt at ease, but the handiwork kept him on edge and he wasn't even close yet. The waiter, however, closed in on them with their drinks but Tuck twirled his finger around his foreskin and he gritted his teeth to suppress a moan.
"Let's see how well you can keep up." Tuck whispered, before turning to the waiter. "Ah, our drinks." He then gestured to the deer, "My friend here says you're from Palluvia. Is that true?"
Arthur put both arms on the table, feigning focus to not make a scene. Who knows how long he had to keep this up.
****
A week later...
A griffin animan, rare sight on Earth, walked into the cafe. Arthur could tell from the glowing necklace that hid their rather large wings. And the larger the figure, so would their wings. He was chubby but wore a hoodie to hide it, despite the artificial weather being set to spring. Cargo pants, and a beanie too, but he did not feel uncomfortable nor sweated.
"So Arty," Tuck caught him mid analysis, "where do you think that griffin is from?"
It would've been out of the Milky Way. And the tell would usually be the wings but it's hidden, though the magic used in the necklace meant he was somewhere closer to Hallor, maybe Rauthia. "Rauthic griffin methinks. Cuz of that necklace." Arthur whispered, not wanting to get his attention. "Why was he here?" He asked himself. It was near polar opposites of the universe too.
After the griffin had made his order, he took his phone out and made a call. Tuck was already satisfied and took a sip of a colorful fruit-like drink that he insisted was a form of coffee. Rainbow color caffeine with a hint of stardustmeg. A weird nutmeg.
Arthur on the other hand took a sip of hot choco mint, wondering what that Rauthic griffin's backstory would be to seek refuge here.
"Napansin na niya ako." The griffin said. "Bilis niya nalaman kung saan ako galing."
Only Arthur was surprised. Enough for his fur to stand, and nearly choking on his drink. Tuck reached out and held his wrists asking, "What's wrong?"
"Too hot," he excused. Coughing to fake it. It convinced Tuck at least. But that griffin spoke in an ancient tongue older than his world. Side-eyeing him while focusing on his drink. The griffin was staring at the menu, pointing at a coffee-gelatin beverage.
"Nandito rin yung pusa. Silang dalawa. Tatlo pero dalawa lang sa kanila ang mahalaga. Yung pusa at ang usa." The griffin chuckled. "Oo nga no, ayus yun. Yung pusa at yung usa."