Detour
Tom turned the phone over in his nimble fingers, blunt claws tracing along the shiny plastic casing. He'd just ignored the third call of the night from his roommate and he already knew what the voice mail would sound like. Harsh light from nearby streetlamps filtered through the park's trees onto the phone's display and he could make out through the glare that it was about midnight. He was off the paved path not only to spare his sensitive eyes but also because he preferred the feel of the grass under his bare feet.
The dark gray rat sighed and looked up to orient himself. Through the trees, he could see the hotel where he was ostensibly headed. He felt like if he squinted he could make out which room he was staying in for the duration of the convention. He wasn't ready to be back in that room just yet. His most recent reason for not going back was that he'd felt like taking the scenic route and detouring through the small park next to the hotel but he was rapidly running out of distractions.
A few blocks away, a science-fiction convention was settling into its usual nightlife routine of people setting up room parties while artists and writers and such hung out in one of the con's common areas to hang out with friends. Five minutes away from where he was standing, his roommate Dave was wondering why he was taking so long getting back. And right here, in the middle of this park at night, Tom was nearly losing his grip on the phone as its vibrations startled him. The rat sighed and flipped it open.
"Yeah?" he answered through clenched teeth.
"Where are you at?"
"Just trying to find a place to buy a drink," he lied, whiskers twitching as a cool summer breeze came by. "If the hotel thinks I'm feeding three bucks into their vending machines for a twenty-ouncer, they've got another thing coming."
"Okay, well, hurry back. I'm worried."
Tom rolled his eyes and he half-leaned half-sat against the armrest of one of the park's benches. His roommate had been trying to get into his pants all weekend because he didn't think Tom knew he was hoping to fuck his way to a break on his share of the bill. Sex with him wasn't out of the question, but he didn't need Dave's particular brand of clingy desperation right now. He especially didn't need it after what happened earlier.
"Tom, are you there?" the otter on the other end of the phone asked.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm here, sorry; a truck drove by, I was covering the microphone." He sighed and curled his furless pink tail around the armrest. "I'll be back in a few, okay?"
"Okay, be careful and hurry up."
Tom took a moment to clear out the previous messages and clapped the phone shut. He pocketed it and uncurled his tail from the bench. He considered the brightly lit path but instead pushed off into the shadows. He was walking away from the hotel, but he didn't care. At this point, he figured, he may as well find an all-night convenience store and buy that soda after all.
"Got a cigarette?"
Tom jumped. He didn't see the other rat up ahead, even with his white fur standing out against the trees. Tom's whiskers twitched with annoyance when he realized he was so lost in his thoughts he wouldn't have noticed him anyhow. The way things had been going, getting mugged would have perfectly punctuated the evening.
The other rat wore a dingy tank top and threadbare baggy jeans with what looked like a wallet chain hanging off the belt. Tom found himself moving subtly closer to get a better look, and silently hoped that the brownish-tan patches he saw in the other rat's fur were natural and not just poor hygiene. At the very least, the other rat's attire contrasted with his own clean convention t-shirt, messenger bag, and jean shorts.
"Dude, do you have a cigarette?" he repeated, sounding annoyed.
"Ah, no, sorry," Tom stammered out. "Don't smoke," he added as if he required a reason not to have a pack on his person.
"Can I get a couple of bucks to get a pack, then?" the other rat said, moving closer.
Tom could smell the reek of old cigarette smoke on him, and what may or may not have been stale beer on his shirt. He was briefly thankful to lack the sharp nose of a canid. As it was, his snout still wrinkled and he came very close to saying 'I'm not buying you cigarettes, asshole.'
"Man, I'd blow ya for a pack of cigarettes," the dingy white rat offered.
Tom almost physically recoiled and he barely fought back the urge to tell this guy off. The other rat paused, though, clearly reading 'back off' from Tom's ears and the position of his tail. Tom forced himself to relax as if to apologize.
"Look, this really isn't the night." He put some effort to add fatigue to his voice to get his message across.
"Convention not any fun this year?"
Tom looked down at himself. He still had a con badge hanging off the strap on his bag, just barely visible in the dim light. He suddenly felt self-conscious about having it visible this far from the convention center but didn't want to just take it off as a knee-jerk reaction. He wasn't ashamed of the convention by any means; he simply didn't feel the need to broadcast it in public.
"The convention's fine," Tom answered. "I just screwed some things up."
"Tell me about it," the other rat said with a strange look. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and tapped one out, putting it between his lips and lighting it. Tom politely passed on the opportunity to call attention to the white rat's apparent abundance of cigarettes but made a mental note all the same.
He seriously considered heading back to the safety of the paved road and its annoying bright lights. He didn't know where this was headed but he wasn't quite scared enough to flee yet. He might have taken off, if not for the fact that the strange rat looked like his comment was not at all rhetorical.
"Seriously, tell me," the stranger said insistently, flicking some ash off his cigarette. "Some things you can only tell a stranger and there ain't no priest or bartender handy."
"Okay," Tom sighed as the other rat moved closer.
"This is the last night of the convention; everyone's going home tomorrow." Tom tried his best to ignore the cigarette smell but his muzzle involuntarily wrinkled. "I picked up this girl last night -- okay, well, 'picked up' is too strong a phrase. I met a girl at a dance last night. A squirrel; little on the heavy side, but proportioned just right and with a smile bright enough to dust a vampire."
The other rat smirked at the metaphor, the cherry at the tip of his shrinking cigarette twitching in the darkness with the movement of his lips. Tom reflexively cursed his exposed nerdiness and sighed. He was wearing loose shorts, but thinking of the girl was already causing a reaction in his sheath. He slid a hand into his pocket to subtly adjust it, trying to distract himself via the story.
"Anyhow, she gets me out onto the dance floor. I can't dance for shit, she's not exactly a professional, but we have fun and that's what matters, right?" Tom paused. "Yeah, I know, I know how that sounds."
"Hey, I'm just here to listen," the other rat said, offering the open end of the pack.
"I'm good, thanks," Tom politely waved away. "But we have a good time. We dance for about 30 or 45 minutes before we take a break. We head out, find a spot in the corner of the hotel corridor, and just talk for an hour. Two hours. Just... connecting."
Tom's full sheath wasn't abating, and he took a moment to adjust it some more and silently cursed himself for bringing up his memory of the good times with the girl in question. A subject change was out of the question, though; he felt like he was stuck on the wrong stretch of road with no turnoffs. The strange white rat wasn't giving any indication that he noticed anything wrong despite Tom's lack of subtlety.
"You've had those moments, right?" Tom asked. "You meet someone, get to know them, and everything just feels right for a while. And then, at the end of the night, you go your separate ways and it's only later you realize you didn't get their name or phone number and it hits you what a dumbass you are."
The other rat put his finished cigarette out against the nearby tree and nodded sympathetically. It was only now that Tom noticed his demeanor had changed; he wasn't the scummy hustler or random street bum any more. Well, okay, he was still a little scummy. There was something different in his dark eyes now, like playing up the 'skeezy street rat' image was a game that he was done with.
"Well, there are a few thousand people here at the convention, but it's still a pretty small world. Earlier tonight I ran into her again, in kind of a common area where folks were just hanging out and drawing. She's an artist."
"And she had someone with her? Boyfriend or something?" the unnamed white rat asked with a classic 'ain't that just the way' smirk.
"No, actually," Tom admitted. "Just a few friends at the table. I spent a few minutes trying to wedge my way into the conversation. There were folks at that table who'd merely seen my name in blog post comments who said 'hi' and had a welcoming smile for me."
Tom didn't pause in his recollection of what happened but between sentences he saw the other rat's face fall as he became a passenger on this dark and lonely highway.
"I spent about a half-hour trying to talk to her, trying to get her attention, to try and pick that connection back up. I barely got a wave and a smile and a 'how are ya doing' that she didn't wait for the answer for."
Tom sighed and reached up to rub his eyes. He wasn't crying nor was he pretending he wasn't crying. But they burned like he was going to. And on top of that, he couldn't help but squirm a bit. The fullness of his sheath was still raging and his previous attempts to adjust himself for propriety's sake hadn't done anything but aggravate an itch that now demanded scratching. He knew he shouldn't have gone three days without jerking off before the con.
"Dude, that's rough," the other rat said, glancing down at his pack of cigarettes like he was considering another one. "You alone at the con, nobody to help ya deal with that?"
"I've got a roommate, but he's more concerned with getting off and seeing if he can cut a break on the hotel room than making sure I feel better."
"Well, I'm not sure I know ya well enough to hug ya," the other rat said as he put the pack away. "And I ain't gonna pretend you want me to anyways, I can tell you don't like the smoke. But I can at least offer you this."
Tom had to stifle a moan as rodentine fingers, like his own but not too much like his own, suddenly closed around the tent in his shorts. Part of him wanted to just shove this other rat away and take off, head back to the room and jerk off in the shower. When he considered that option his toes curled like his body was gripping the earth and wouldn't let go. Blunt toe claws staked their claim in the grass and dirt beneath his feet and he reached out to grab the tree for support.
That hand shifted against Tom's erection, finding the outline of it in his pants and rubbing the fabric of his underwear against it. Tom hissed as he forgot to ask himself why he was letting a stranger grope him. His arm wobbled like it couldn't support him and he half-pulled away so he could lean back against the tree.
The other rat leaned in and nibbled at his neck while fingers unsnapped and unzipped his jean shorts to squeeze his emerging erection through his boxers. The tent in his boxers was topped with a wet spot as his eager dick dripped and throbbed from the attention. Elastic rubbed against his sensitive tip as the underwear was pulled down enough to expose his unsheathing member. Flexible, delicate fingers eased his sheath the rest of the way back and Tom whimpered from the dual sensations of a cool breeze on his cock and warm breath on his neck.
That strange rat's other hand moved to cup and roll Tom's balls as he began to slowly stroke up and down his length. Tom wasn't huge by any stretch of the imagination, but he was comfortable enough with his size that he could just enjoy the feeling of those fingers without worrying what the other guy thought about him. His tail half-curled around the side of the tree as he leaned against it, groaning while his length was expertly squeezed and stroked.
He glanced at the complete stranger who was jerking him off and the expression on his muzzle was clearly asking if Tom was enjoying this. The only answer he could muster was a wide grin and closed eyes. Caught up in the moment, he relaxed and offered the other rat a few moments of genuine trust. The other rat caressed his needy length and when Tom noticed that he was only feeling one set of those talented fingers he cracked an eye open and saw the rat's other hand down his own jeans.
Tom's shorts, by this point, were only held up by the snap that hooked up over his tail. He leaned back against the tree, gripping the bark with his claws. Flexible fingers stroked over his throbbing, dripping length and he lost himself in the pleasure of the moment.
The other rat's grip shifted and Tom didn't think anything of it until those fingers moved away and were replaced with a warm, wet muzzle. His eyes shot open with surprise and his tail suddenly jerked and lashed against the side of the tree. He let out a loud groan despite the two rats' almost public interaction and his hips jerked towards that welcoming mouth.
Teeth grazed the top of his length while a wet tongue bathed and lapped at the underside. He let out a hiss and a whimper as more of his pre dripped into that unfamiliar but oh-so-nice mouth. His eyes were open but he was so overwhelmed he couldn't clearly see anything as this strange white rat brought him up to the edge. He was beyond coherent speech but all the same he felt the need to warn the other rat he was getting close.
Without warning he felt the shock of cool air on his cock again, all the more striking now that it was wet. Tom looked down and was still shaking too much to clearly ask what was wrong. He simply stammered and saw the other rat remove something from a foil wrapper. A latex ring kissed the tip of his cock moments before that muzzle darted in to let him feel those talented lips and tongue roll a condom down over his hard dick.
His member was enveloped again in the warm mouth, feeling the tongue through the latex sheath on his cock. The other rat pulled his head off of Tom's cock and nodded to himself with approval.
"God, who are you?" Tom gasped, his fur standing on end.
"Name's Kurt; now shut up for a sec," the other rat quickly said.
Kurt stood up, his jeans dropping to his ankles, and he turned around to lean back against Tom. Tom was pushed back against the tree and his nose was filled with the other rat's scent. Kurt smelled of cigarettes, sure, but now Tom got a whiff of a spicy scent underneath. It was an earthy aroma, like a seasoning rack had spilled and not been cleaned up properly.
Tom realized that the boozy smell of the other rat's shirt had been imagined based solely on his appearance. Thoughts of apology, more emotion than coherent thought, passed through his head. His brief flash of guilt was chased away by the feeling of fingers gripping his hard cock.
"I'll finish you off in a sec," Kurt said, leaning firmly back against him. "But I get this first."
If Tom had any complaints, he was unable to voice them before he felt his latex-wrapped cock guided up under the other rat's tail. Kurt let out a satisfied hiss, pushing back against him with the smooth motion of someone clearly used to this sort of thing. The tight, heated grip welcomed him and the other rat's hand reached back to grab his shoulder.
They began to move, like dancing, using the tree trunk behind them for support as the two of them rocked together beneath the tree. Their tails excitedly whipped against each other's legs as they squirmed and moved together. Kurt visibly shivered from the feeling of Tom's warm breath on the back of his neck. Even though Tom couldn't clearly see what Kurt was doing, the repetitive motions of his partner's arm were unmistakable as he stroked himself. It wasn't long before the other rat let out a long, low whimper and a hiss before he tensed up around Tom's cock. The darker-furred rat, thanks to his night vision, could see a load of cum that went far enough to enter his line of sight.
Kurt let out a shudder and a satisfied moan before sliding forward off of Tom's shaft. Tom gasped and almost lost his balance. Miraculously, he had remained on the edge the whole time without going over. The white rat turned to face him, a smoldering look in his eyes, and pushed Tom back up against the tree.
Kurt pressed his muzzle to Tom's, kissing him deeply, still riding a combination of afterglow and adrenaline. Tom could taste his own cock and precum on the other rat's tongue and was only dimly aware that fingers were pulling the condom off of his shaft. The kiss broke, and Kurt wordlessly sank onto his knees before taking Tom back into his muzzle.
The dark gray rat, having been on the verge of exploding for most of this time already, wasn't going to last much longer. He reached down with both hands and stroked and rubbed at Kurt's ears, grunting and whimpering as that muzzle bobbed over his throbbing cock. His toes curled into the earth as he finally came with a loud squeak. He felt like a wave breaking on the shore when his cum surged hot and eager into the white-furred muzzle.
He panted with high-pitched, wheezing gasps as he felt Kurt's lips and tongue sucking and licking him clean as his balls emptied into that warm mouth. The strange rat fully drained him, coaxing out everything Tom had to offer and then some. His legs wobbled a bit but he shifted his tail to help keep his balance.
"Holy crap," Tom hissed, panting and looking down as Kurt was tugging his boxers back up and tucking him back into them with an almost dainty touch.
"Feeling better?" the white rat said, panting softly.
Tom nodded as the two of them pulled their pants up and dusted themselves off. Tom grabbed his messenger bag, not even remembering setting it down, and looked around as he suddenly felt exposed. Kurt was still clearly worked up, but forced some nonchalance into his movements as he dug out his cigarettes and lit one. He again offered one to Tom and it was politely waved away.
"I should probably go," Tom said after a second, a tone of regret in his voice. "My roommate's waiting."
"Hey, chill out, man, we both had a good time." Kurt shook his head. "Now you've had a fun convention."
Tom chuckled at that, digging out his cell phone.
"Can I get your number or email or something?"
Kurt rolled his eyes.
"I appreciate the thought, and you're cute and all, but you're not my usual type," he said.
"What is your usual type?" Tom asked, ears drooping slightly.
"Older guys who like sleazy hustler-lookin' bois." He winked. "But I think you're ready to get back to your convention anyways. It's annual, right?
"Yeah."
"Not my usual type but still cute. I'll see ya next year and we'll see what happens."
Kurt waved with the hand holding the cigarette, the orange cherry leaving a little afterimage in Tom's night vision. He casually strolled off and despite his lighter fur vanished into the shadows. Tom resisted the urge to chase after him and backed towards the well-lit path, opening up the cell phone to check his messages.
"Hey there, son," a deep voice came from his left.
A coyote in a uniform was approaching him from downwind, and Tom had missed his approach. He had a radio in one hand and a flashlight in the other. His gaze briefly but noticeably flicked to Tom's con badge. His nose wrinkled as he caught the collection of scents coming off of Tom but he may have chalked it up to 'con funk' rather than assuming lewd behavior.
"You know this park's closed, right?" he asked, eyeing Tom warily.
"Actually, I didn't," Tom truthfully admitted, flushing beneath his cheekfur. "I've had kind of a rough night, just trying to sort where I can get a drink and maybe a bite to eat this late and took a bit of a detour."
The officer relaxed some when he realized Tom wasn't drunk or going to talk back to him. He gestured and led Tom over to the nearest exit to the park. The coyote then pointed down the street with the flashlight.
"You go three blocks down, there's a 24-hour convenience store. Try not to take any more detours, you got it?"
"Sure, sure thing," Tom said with a nod before glancing down that way. "Thanks for understanding, and sorry I bothered ya."
The cop wished him a nice night before Tom took off, now actually feeling the bite of hunger. With a smirk, he half-considered buying a pack of cigarettes on the off-chance he ran into Kurt on the way back to the hotel. After all, he felt like he owed him.
Maybe, Tom thought, I can pay that debt next year.