Let's Play Musical Chairs
_ Let's Play Musical Chairs _
by K.M. Hirosaki ([email protected])
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story and all characters are copyright © 2011 K.M. Hirosaki, except for Kario Tojima, used here with permission.
Gareth isn't the kind of guy who you look at and think 'boyfriend material.' He's the kind of guy you look at and think 'drag-into-bed material.' Once you make eye contact with him, you know that you're both on the same page, too. You could tell he was easy, but that you also had to play by his rules.
That was the first thing I loved about Gareth.
So, yes, from the moment I first set eyes on him, I wanted to fuck him. More importantly, I knew that he wanted me to fuck him, too. Sluts who want to get fucked have a way of just telling you with their eyes, and Gareth was a coyote who wanted to get fucked.
Let me stress here that I don't use the word "slut" as an insult. Hell, I own a pride necklace that literally spells the word out; I wear it out to the clubs sometimes. I think of it as free advertising for people who can't read body language.
The look in Gareth's eyes wasn't the only clue that he and I were of a like mind, I'll admit. He wore a skimpy fishnet top and a pair of shorts that covered barely more than his ass and crotch. His ears sported an array of piercings that told the world that he was a total fag and wanted everyone to know it. That last trick was one that I'd resorted to, myself. A rainbow ladder is a great way to say, without uttering a word, how goddamn fabulous you are.
But I'm getting ahead of myself, and this isn't about me-well, okay, it's kind of about me, but mostly for now it's about Gareth. Well, Gareth and me. Let me explain.
We were in a sleazy gay nightclub and Gareth was dressed like a total slut. I was dressed like a total slut. We'd exchanged the look that let each other know that we were down to play the game. And Gareth had the attitude of a good Dungeon Master, the kind who actually wanted the players to win the fun game he'd created for them (and God, I promise that'll be the nerdiest reference I make in trying to tell this story).
The problem, though, was that someone else had gotten dibs on Gareth first. Now, this fellow hadn't gotten all the way into the coyote's pants yet, but I had nothing if not my own self-respect, and I decided to play fair, backing off to let things run their course. Now, okay, I don't always play fair, but hell, I had a fallback of my own in the form of this tall, slender fox who, just over an hour later, wound up pinning my sweet ringtail ass to the wall in the back hallway, making me forget all about Gareth for about seven whole minutes.
I don't know if the coyote knew I'd run off with someone else, and to this day I've never asked, but during those few minutes, Gareth had disappeared with the wolf (or was it a husky?) who had gotten to him before I did. For his sake, I hope he got fucked crosseyed, because that's what I was going to do to him and I'd hate to think that such a cute 'yote had to go unfulfilled.
What I didn't know, at the time, was that by not fucking Gareth that night, I changed the rules of the game. We weren't just playing a one-off convention game anymore; now we were committed to a long-running campaign, one that was going to require lots of leveling up and character development and-
Okay, no, that's the nerdiest reference I'm going to make in telling this story.
"Oh, wow, you're looking fancy tonight, Reylin," Gareth said, giving me a slow once-over. "Did you just get in from the opera or something?"
I was wearing a solid black half-shirt that showed off my pierced navel, a pair of denim cutoffs with nothing underneath, and a glittering necklace with a pair of interlocking 'male' symbols hanging from my neck. "Close. Wedding. I did my best to make sure I was nowhere near the bouquet when they threw it."
The coyote laughed at my little joke and leaned in a little closer to me. "God forbid." The club wasn't so loud that we couldn't hear each other, but we had to speak so that our voices cut through the noise. "You know, I can't ever see you settling down, but that's still a shame because I bet you'd look so pretty in a dress."
I snorted. "You wouldn't be the first person to say that," I replied. "But still, the day that I need to resort to crossdressing to get into bed with someone is the day I'll have officially lost my touch."
"Mmm. You'd probably be better off just going for someone else."
"Which has never been a problem before, I'll admit." I winked at him. "And I know you wouldn't need or even want me in a dress before you put out for me, cutey."
Gareth ran his tongue over his sharp little teeth. "I don't need or want you in much of anything. Speaking of which, I can't help but notice that you sauntered in through the front door all by yourself tonight."
"Oh, you scheming rascal. I'm so flattered that you were just sitting alone waiting for little ol' me. Are none of the big-dicked canines around tonight?" I made a show of looking around the club.
The coyote reached out and smacked me on the arm. "Oh, shut up," he said, and I could see the shadow of his tail wagging faster behind him. "But if you must know, I just realized earlier today that I've never actually sucked off a ringtail before, and I'm kind of keen to fix that."
My eyes widened, not (just) for show. "You're kidding. Weren't you telling me about that ringtail from back in college, the one that you said gave me a run for my money in terms of sheer, unadulterated gayness?"
"Who, Roddy?" Gareth's smile widened. "Oh, sure, he blew me. Twice, even. Never returned the favor, though."
"Gareth, Gareth. I thought you had better manners than that."
He held up a paw in protest. "Hey, I'm not saying I didn't get him off. I just didn't suck his dick."
"Oh. Well, that's okay, then." Which, hey, to be honest, I'm not so old-fashioned that I insist on keeping my scorecard one-for-one myself. I've had plenty of guys fuck me without my getting off, and vice-versa. "But hey, yeah, I'm totally okay with the 'you blowing me' thing, if that's what you're after."
No sooner had I said that than, out from the gyrating crowd on the dance floor, came this twinky little lion who made a beeline right for Gareth. Now, he was a real cutey, I'll admit; normally I'm not one for lions, but when they're the femmy, girly ones with the close-cropped manes and the perfect little bubble butts, then sure, I'm all about hitting that. And yeah, this was one of those kind of lions, but he came right up to Gareth and hugged him from behind in this sappy, affectionate way that didn't even involve grinding against the coyote's ass.
"Hey, honey!" the lion cooed, sounding-well, pretty much as gay as I do. "I didn't know you were here tonight!"
He still couldn't see Gareth's face, and the coyote shot me a look that told me all I needed to know: he hadn't told the lion where he was tonight for a reason. But soon that expression of panic and dismay was replaced by a smile that I might not have even known was forced if I hadn't seen the exchange unfold with my own eyes. "Hey, Patrick," Gareth replied. "I thought you'd be studying for finals."
"On a Friday night? Oh, puh-leez. You should know me better than that, honey." The lion then gave Gareth a kiss on the cheek, and I wasn't sure if it was that or being called 'honey' twice in a row that made the coyote's fur bristle. "What are you up to?"
It was a stupid question to ask someone at a gay club, which meant that my impression of Patrick was starting pretty low and in no rush to get higher. Gareth just rolled with it, though. "Just figured I'd get some drinking and dancing in, you know?" He shifted, but had no success getting out of the lion's embrace. "This is my buddy Reylin," he said, nodding towards me.
Patrick leaned his muzzle over Gareth's shoulder. The lion regarded me with obvious disdain, his snout wrinkling up as he saw what I was wearing. He was clearly offended by my getup, which was ridiculous considering that Gareth was dressed just as sluttily, but hey, whatever. "Oh. Hi," he said.
I just smiled and held up a paw in a half-wave. I didn't bother saying "hi," because if I'd tried, I would have ended up blurting out "fuck off" instead, and I didn't want that. Not in front of Gareth. Yet.
Gareth turned around partway, the lion's arms still wrapped around him. "Hey, Patrick? You wanna go grab you and me a couple of drinks?" He held up a crisp bill that he must have fished out of his pocket while my attention had been focused on retaining a modicum of civility.
Patrick actually blinked before he looked at the money, then nodded with a smile. "Yeah, sure, of course," he said with a smile that matched the happy twisting of his tufted tail. "What do you want?"
"Just whatever you get. Something sweet." Gareth patted Patrick on the hip, and the lion finally disengaged, plucking the money from the coyote's fingers before slipping away in the general direction of the bar.
I looked back at Gareth and raised my eyebrow. "You're dating that guy?"
"Sort of." Gareth sighed. He never admitted to ever more than 'sort of' dating someone. The whole business confused me; his 'relationships' never lasted more than a few weeks, and he was clearly happier with and more interested in looking for no-strings-attached hookups, as evidenced by the fact that, hey, he'd just been trying to get his muzzle around my dick a minute ago.
I was polite enough to not tell Gareth what I thought of his latest fling with words, but I still told him with a roll of my eyes. "Is he at least good in the sack?"
"He's passable," Gareth said, and he sighed again. "I dunno. It's probably not going to work out, but I figure I might as well give it a shot."
"Yeah." I drew the word out nice and long, so that Gareth knew how much of an idiot I thought he was being.
He offered an apologetic smile. "I guess I just have a weakness for twinky little lion boys."
"Yeah, I don't see what's so great about them, myself," I said. "But hey, I mean, maybe you're right. Maybe it'll work out."
Gareth looked over towards the bar, then back at me. He frowned again. "I probably don't have time to drag you off into the bathroom and blow you before he gets back and wonders where I am, huh?"
"Probably not." My eyes drifted over towards the bathroom (I'm not sure whether it was subconscious or on purpose), and then I looked back at him.
He got what I was thinking and chuckled despite himself. "It would probably get rid of him."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." The coyote rubbed his temples and then shook his head. "But no. Tempting as that is, I can't be 'that guy.'" He reached out and patted me on the shoulder, stole a look down at my crotch, then shook his head once more. "Some other night?" he asked, his voice hopeful, his head tilting to one side.
I smiled. "Oh, some other night will definitely be doable."
"That's not all that will be doable."
I smirked and swatted the coyote on the ass. "Go. Find your lion before I get myself in trouble."
So, with that, Gareth left, and I made my way onto the dance floor in order to lose myself in the music and forget the raging hard-on I still had from the near-miss prospect of a coyote blowjob. The DJ was doing his job a little too well, though, throwing out beats that were a bit too, you know, fuck-worthy, and I just wound up getting myself more, well, wound up. It was extra frustrating because I knew that Gareth really wanted to just take me, drag me off someplace, and bury his muzzle in my crotch until I came down the back of his throat, and good god, that mental image just would not leave my head.
Also, sure, part of me was jealous that Gareth had time to date someone he didn't even like but didn't have time for me.
Okay, let me explain a little something about Gareth. I know I've gone over how he dresses and looks and acts like and is a huge slut. I know I've said that there's an unmistakable chemistry that we both feel for each other. But I don't think I've really gotten across just how insanely hot Gareth is.
When Gareth looks at you, his eyes promise you the sort of pleasure that you normally only expect out of very vivid fantasies and not real people. He makes you believe that that kind of pleasure is real and that he'll prove it to you if you just give him a shot. When he moves, whether it's on the dance floor or just walking down the sidewalk on the way to grab a coffee at two in the morning, he maintains this elegant poise that shows that he has perfect control over his body-and his body is perfect, too.
I've heard stories, too. Hell, with as many guys as Gareth and I both sleep with, it's inevitable that we have some crossover, and everyone I hear from says he's amazing. This one dingo says that Gareth got him off just using his lips and tongue without ever even opening his mouth all the way. I ran into this one meerkat (who I wound up fucking afterwards) who told me how Gareth met him in the main room of this one club, got his pants open, rode his dick all the way to climax and then got up and left without saying a single word the whole time.
So, yeah, having Gareth offer to suck my dick only to be forced to renege so that he can make nice with some boy he'll probably stop seeing in less than a week kind of rankled me something fierce. I made my way through the dance floor and started grinding on the first coyote I saw.
He was cute enough. Nice-smelling fur and all, pretty decent dancer. I couldn't help thinking about how not-Gareth he was, though. I mean, it did the trick. Kind of. He dragged me out to his car, got me off with his paw before he could turn his muzzle on me, and so I ended up just blowing him instead. And that wasn't bad, either. I made a point to ask someone else later on what his name was.
"So Patrick and I split."
That didn't surprise me. What surprised me was that it had lasted a full two weeks longer than I'd expected it would. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," Gareth said over the phone. "Now that his semester's over, he asked if he could live with me for the summer."
I hissed quietly as a jolt of pleasure ran up my dick and into my lower abdomen. "Let me guess. You told him that wouldn't work out."
"I told him that wouldn't work out."
"Because of how you'd be bringing other guys home." My balls tightened and my long tail twisted back and forth atop my mattress.
Gareth sighed. "Because of how I'd be bringing other guys home." There was a pause, and then he added, "But hey, you should be flattered! He remembered you."
I curled my toes up and sucked in another tense breath. "Aw, he remembered me? Really?"
"Well, mostly. After I mentioned the whole 'other guys' thing, the first thing he asked was if I was talking about 'that faggoty cacomistle slut.'"
My bark of a laugh caused the warmth and suction around my cock to abate for a few seconds. "Aw, hey, at least he knew that I was a cacomistle and not a lemur."
"I know, right? So that's something." The coyote hummed a bit, as if debating his next words. "But hey, if he only knew. I kind of wish he was right about his scandalous assumption."
I agreed with a breathy gasp.
"Hey, so are you busy tonight?"
I looked down at the little skunk with his head between my thighs, his lips holding still at the very tip of my cock, his eyes locked on me in confusion. "Uh, yeah, kind of," I told Gareth. "How about tomorrow night?"
"Tomorrow night I go out of town for the weekend," Gareth said. Notes of frustration had crept into his voice, but only barely. "Camping trip."
"Is this the sort of camping trip where you spent three days getting fucked on your back in the grass?"
"Not even." The reason for his frustration got more obvious. "Anyhow, you ah, really do sound kind of busy. Should I let you go?"
The poor skunk didn't know what to do, so I set my paw on the back of his head and pushed down so that he knew he had my go-ahead to resume sucking me off. "Yeah, probably." I closed my eyes, relaxed, felt that tiny tongue flick against my flesh, and then muttered, "Besides, I don't want you to hear what it sounds like when I get off until you're here in person."
The coyote's laugh was almost too much for my phone to handle. "Holy shit, are you serious? You're not serious, are you?"
"I'll call you later, Gareth," I said, and then hung up, tossing my phone next to me before I smiled back at the cute skunk, who was already back to being engrossed by the task at hand.
A week later I was talking to my friend Kario, and he said he heard from this fox who heard from this river otter who heard from Gareth that the coyote did manage to get fucked on his camping trip. Not for three days straight, but at least once. Apparently he banged up his knee real good when he got shoved to the ground and mounted, but Gareth, bless the little trooper he is, went through with it anyway. The next morning he told his fellow campers that he'd tripped while taking a piss out in the woods. I wonder how many of them believed him.
Kario can be a snide little bitch sometimes, but he's decent people, deep down, and so I don't think he was making the story up just to get to me just because he knows I have the world's biggest boner for Gareth. No, he has better ways of getting to me, anyway. He's a panther, and a really good-looking one at that. Good-looking enough that I don't mind him being a bitch occasionally.
He's also a dancing instructor. And I mean real dancing, not the thing I do where I just move my body in time with music while grinding my crotch against someone's ass or vice versa. This one time he actually tried to show me some pointers, including this little spin-twirl thing where one person's all backed up against the other person's front, which sounds like it should be sexier than it was in practice, but I chalk that up to my being clumsy. Maybe just a little nervous. But only a little.
But anyway, there me and Kario were, at a not-quite-gentlemen's club, only half-watching this pair of weasel "waiters" making out on the serving floor as he told me about Gareth.
"So I heard he was dating this real clingy nutjob."
"Oh, god, Patrick? The lion?"
The panther shook his head. "No, this was some raccoon. Apparently he thought going on just one date implied some kind of exclusivity."
"With Gareth?" I laughed, then nodded to the half-naked mouse who brought me my bright green appletini. I kind of wished I could have watched him make out with one of the weasels, instead. Or maybe both of them. "So wait, when was this?"
Kario took his drink from the mouse, too. I couldn't tell what it was, but no doubt the panther would make me try it later and then force me to guess what was in it until he got bored with that game and just told me anyway. "I don't know, last week?"
"Didn't he just get back from a camping trip? How'd he start dating someone already?"
"Well, I mean, I heard about it last week." Kario took a sip of his drink and showed no obvious reaction to its taste. "I'm not sure when this was. And since when were you concerned with anyone's dating habits?"
"I'm not! It's just..." I tried to remember Gareth ever dating a raccoon. If it really had just been a one-night thing, then it had probably only been a "date" to the raccoon, and it's not like Gareth made sure to tell me about every last guy he screwed around with. "Was it a big deal or something?"
"Apparently he threw his drink in Gareth's face at some bar," Kario said. "I mean, you know Gareth better than I do, but I can't imagine that scene finished well."
"Wow, he actually threw his drink in his face?" I took a long sip from my appletini, then just kind of looked at it for a while. "Who actually does that?"
"This douchebag raccoon, evidently."
"Wow, Gareth really knows how to pick the winners."
"Are you jealous?"
"What, of Gareth getting a drink thrown in his face?"
"No, of him dating someone who's not you."
I balked, then flicked my ears back, my piercings jingling. "Like you said yourself, since when do I care about anyone's dating habits?"
"Since you can't stop asking me about Gareth and who he's dating."
I felt my hackles raise, but I willed them down, and decided to vent my frustration constructively. I tried to imagine some starry-eyed raccoon, probably a college kid, backpack slung over one shoulder as he traipsed into the local gay bar, all excited to see his new fling, only for his face to fall as he saw Gareth pressing some other raccoon against the bar, their muzzles locked in the sort of hot, passionate kiss that you only see in movies (or maybe in porno). The kid drops his bag, brings a paw to his muzzle and gasps in shock, and Gareth just turns to him, smirking all cocky-like, with a look in his eye that just says, "What are you, an idiot?"
"I just don't understand Gareth's standards, sometimes," I said.
"Look who's talking."
I snorted. "Hey, I have standards."
"Sure, if 'male' and 'alive' count as standards."
"My standards are higher than that and you know it," I said. "Usually." I took another big gulp from my martini glass. "Being drunk and out for an easy lay doesn't count."
"In that case, I'm not sure what to judge you against." Kario did a good job of making sure I only barely saw his playful smirk behind his own glass.
I kicked him in the shin with my toes. "Fuck you. I've always been sober when I've been with you."
"You were drunk that one time."
"Yeah, but all I did was blow you. That doesn't count as getting laid."
"Doesn't it?"
"Not for the purposes of this argument it doesn't." I drained the rest of my appletini. It sucked that I had to change the rules in order to win the game, but without that as an option I think Kario would end up winning every time. "But speaking of standards, have you and Gareth ever had sex?"
Kario looked me right in the eye. "You know I'm not going to tell you the answer to that."
"Aw, come on. I just want to know." The mouse waiter walked by again, his whiplike tail drawing my eyes right to his ass.
The panther held out his glass for me. "Here, take a sip of this and tell me what you think is in it."
"So the good news is that I can dance again," Gareth said, extending his leg all the way out, demonstrating his ability to bend at the knee without any discomfort of difficulty. "Oh, and I guess it's good news that there isn't any permanent damage to my knee, too."
"I imagine you'd be devastated if you were saddled by some kind of permanent injury that made it harder for you to suck cock."
The badger sitting next to me choked on his beer, and Gareth shot me a warning look. Reason being that we were in a sports bar just off campus, not at one of our usual gay clubs, and I guess he was wary about me fagging up the place.
"The bad news," the coyote said, using his voice like a lasso to rein me back in, "is that I can't go out dancing this weekend."
A holler went up through the bar, and Gareth snapped his head up to the television to see what he'd just missed. There was a basketball game on, but I was probably the one person in the whole place who couldn't have told you what two teams were playing.
A sports bar right near the college was not, as you can imagine, my ideal place to be spending an evening. I wouldn't have been in there at all if I hadn't spotted Gareth through the window, sitting there at the bar is in his green-and-white sports jersey (and again, if you had asked before going inside what sport it was even for, I'd have had no clue). Needless to say, it piqued my curiosity, and I had to go inside to see what the deal was.
"Come out dancing with me tonight, then," I told him, giving his paw a gentle, playfully pleading tug. I was wearing the black leather vest and matching pants I had bought myself just a couple days before, and this was my first night debuting the ensemble. I'd been on my way to the bus stop to hit up the clubs downtown when I'd walked by and seen Gareth. "It'll be fun."
"Rey, it's only the second quarter." The coyote picked up his beer bottle and took a long swig as his eyes left my face and went back to the TV for a few seconds.
I sighed. I didn't know how long basketball games lasted, only that they went on a lot longer than the clocks said they did. "Can we leave at halftime then?" I asked. "We should still have time to catch a bus downtown and get some clubbing in."
"It's Game Six. I'm not leaving at halftime."
"Why, what's so important about Game Six?"
The badger who'd choked on his beer earlier did so again, and Gareth rolled his eyes at me. "It means if we lose, it's all over and we go home." He explained it like I was a six-year-old, which made my ears level in irritation.
"Since when are you even into basketball anyway?" Just the sight of him drinking a beer and wearing a basketball jersey went against everything I knew about the little party-'yote.
I thought Gareth was going to snort in derision or something, but he just laughed and smiled. "Since, like, always?" he said. "I do have hobbies other than dancing."
"Yeah, but basketball?" I asked. "I never hear you talk about sports."
"That's because you're usually talking to me about... other things." His own ears splayed as he caught himself before blurting out anything more lewd and embarrassing. Leaning in closer, he lowered his voice and said, "There's more to me than fishnet tops and getting laid by people I barely know."
My long tail bristled. "I more than barely know y-"
The crowd let out a big, collective cheer again, and Gareth nearly dropped his beer as he fumbled his paws, set it down, and then set about clapping and whistling his approval. "Holy shit, did you just see that?" he asked.
I set one elbow onto the bar and rested my chin in my palm. "No," I murmured. The big hubbub had died down, so I waved the bartender over.
He was this tall gray fox who, even as he sidled on over to me, kept his attention on the game. "What'll it be, boss?" he asked, and only then did his eyes widen as he appeared to first notice how I was dressed.
"Just a beer."
I couldn't quite read the look on the fox's face, but Gareth's sigh explained it well enough. "Did you have something more specific in mind?" the bartender asked.
My eyes flicked around behind the bar, trying to catch sight of anything that suggested something to order. "Uh, light beer?"
That seemed to satisfy the bartender, though I could tell I'd still done something wrong. Gareth rubbed his own paw in his face. "I'm going to take a stab in the dark here and say that you don't come to places like this very often, do you, Reylin?"
"Well, I figured that this isn't the kind of place to order a Cosmo."
"And you're right about that," Gareth said. "But have you really never ordered a beer before?"
"I don't like beer," I said, which was of course the moment that the bartender came back to set my drink down in front of me. I tried to flash him an appreciative smile, but he'd already gone back to watching the game.
Gareth reached out and patted me on the shoulder. "Look, Reylin, if you want to sit here and hang out, I'm cool with that. But I am going to be watching the game, so if that's going to bore you, you might want to just try to catch that bus of yours."
"I can still fit in here." Sure, a skinny ringtail sporting rainbow earrings and wrapped in skin-tight leather. I took a sip of the beer. God, did that leave a lot to be desired. I'd choked down worse, though. "And hey, maybe after the game, if you-if we win, I can, you know, help you celebrate."
"Reylin," Gareth repeated, his voice firmer. "After the game, I have to study for an exam tomorrow."
Now it was my turn to choke on my beer. "Exam?" I asked. "Wait, you're still in college?"
"Uh, yeah," the coyote said. "Did you really not know that?"
My tail went limp and my stomach churned awkwardly. "I guess not," I said. "I mean, you just seemed older and... more mature than that, I guess?"
He let out a very 'coyote' laugh. "Mature? Me?" He downed the rest of his beer and smacked the empty bottle down against the bar. "Please, if I were mature, I'd be graduating in two weeks and not stuck taking a summer session."
How had I missed the fact that Gareth was still a college student? I mean, I know the guys he claimed to only 'sort of' date often wound up being college kids, but I guess I'd always just taken that as a sign that he liked them a couple years younger than himself. It was hard to imagine slutty, frisky, party-till-three-in-the-morning Gareth going to class and living a normal college life.
Which, okay, maybe that fit in a bit better with the knowledge that he wasn't graduating on time, but still. Overall it was a big shock to my system.
"Look, I... I think maybe I should just get going," I said. "Go Game Six, and stuff." When I pushed myself off of my stool, a few heads turned toward me, initially surprised that anyone would be leaving so early until they saw that, no, it was just me.
Gareth frowned a little. "Okay," he said. "Maybe next week, after finals, we can go dancing together, yeah?"
"Yeah," I said, and for the first time since I'd met him, I wasn't sure of what Gareth obviously wanted.
I walked around the bar and headed for the exit. Most of the attention was off of me and back on the game, but one pair of eyes was still following me.
Sitting near one corner, with a better view of me than of the television, was a young, gray-furred husky, wearing a basketball jersey identical to Gareth's. As soon as I caught him looking at me, he turned away, but instead of looking at the game, he looked at his beer, as if he were ashamed of himself.
My tongue ran itself over my teeth almost on its own accord. This, I thought to myself, was something I could deal with. Hell, I knew a bi-curious college kid when I saw one.
The husky was, predictably, mortified when I sat next to him. Tempted or not, he didn't want to be seen with the obvious faggot. I was just glad that the big central bar meant that Gareth couldn't see that I was still here.
"So," I said as I set both my elbows atop the husky's little table and leaned forward to speak for his ears only, "would you be able to explain to me how basketball works?" My eyes locked with his, and I gave my upper lip a quick lick before lowering my voice quieter still. "Because if you do, I will totally give you a blowjob."
The husky's eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped in disbelief. He looked around real quick, as if afraid someone might have heard my offer, but even before he said anything, I knew I had him just by seeing him swallow the lump in his throat.
We won Game Six, and so to celebrate I went home with my cute basketball tutor and let him fuck me in the ass. I mean, I started off by blowing him, like I promised, but he was a couple beers in by that point and it was clear that he was really turned on by the idea of experimenting with another guy, so who was I to say no?
I mean, he wasn't drunk. Given how rock-hard he was the whole time he was plowing me from behind, he was certainly sober enough.
Regardless of how much of his decision to fuck another guy was fueled by lowered inhibitions, come the next morning, my continued presence was making things awkward. Oh, the husky was polite enough and all, but I didn't really believe that a guy like him would put early morning classes on his schedule, and so I was polite back and left while he was in the shower.
I'd never done the walk of shame while wearing skin-tight leather before. Which, now that I think about it, is really kind of surprising.
But wow, when had been the last time I'd had sex in a college dorm room? Or hell, even been in one at all? It was only a few years ago for me, but college felt so long ago, and I felt so disconnected from it. Was Gareth really still a part of this world?
I couldn't figure out why I was obsessing over Gareth still being in college. After all, he was still Gareth, right? His being a student didn't change all the other things I'd ever known about him. I mean, I had no idea how long he'd been the kind of coyote I'd known him as, but he seemed so natural in the role he played, so carefree and so much like it was this intrinsic part of who he was.
But he had also seemed so natural back at the sports bar, wearing a basketball jersey and drinking beers while watching a game. That wasn't the Gareth I knew at all. That version of Gareth was nothing like me, hanging out in a crowd of people who were nothing like me. A crowd of people that he could disappear into and I couldn't. A crowd of people that made the usually unflappable Reylin Saticoy feel uncomfortable.
Yeah, well, I'd still managed to get laid amidst that crowd. So I hadn't lost my touch. That was something.
"You wouldn't be offended if I said I couldn't see the two of us dating, right?"
Kario slid his warm, black paw along my chest and used it to tug me closer back to him. "Not really," he agreed, voice low and rumbling. "I think you'd be too high-maintenance for me."
"I think I'm too high-maintenance for anyone."
My eyes drifted up to one of the photo portraits hanging on my bedroom wall. This one featured a tall and gorgeous white-furred wolf. He was completely naked, standing with his hips turned so that you could only see the barest hint of his sheath. Still, that was enough to give a good enough idea of how big it was.
"Besides," Kario said, "why would I need to date you and dote on you when I know you'll let me pin your tail to your bed anytime I like anyway?"
I chuckled as I rolled over to look at the panther. If I'd had the lights off, he would have been effectively invisible against my smooth black sheets. "See, exactly," I said, stroking my fingertips down his chest. There was still a pleasant, tingling soreness under my tail. "That's what I can't figure out about Gareth."
Kario snorted and touched my own chest before shoving me over onto my back. "Has anyone ever told you you're like a broken record sometimes?"
"I guess I bob my head up and down like a needle sometimes."
"Doesn't work as well if you don't break up your pace a little."
"Except for when you get right close to the end."
The panther rolled his eyes and play-smacked me on the chest. "You know, some guys would find it awkward to lie in bed and talk about other guys after having sex."
"We just covered how we're not dating."
"Doesn't mean I want your mind wandering when we're together." He tapped me on the nose, making me go momentarily cross-eyed. "You weren't thinking of Gareth a minute ago, were you?"
"No way," I replied. "I'm sure Gareth's dick is nowhere near as big as yours."
Kario grinned. "Flattery doesn't get you as far when I've already finished fucking you. But thanks."
"Speaking of which," I muttered, rolling back onto my side and stroking the outside of the panther's black-furred thigh, "you gonna be ready for round two soon?"
"Eventually. Tell me about this thing with Gareth."
I looked the cat in the eye. "You just told me not to."
"I told you some guys might find it awkward. I find it more awkward that this is bugging you so much, so just get it off your chest."
My eyes wandered up and down Kario's naked body, then back over the picture of the naked wolf on the wall, and then down at my own stomach. I hooked a fingertip into my navel and took a deep breath to calm myself. "It's just making me feel weird. Or maybe it's making me feel old. I don't know."
"Aren't you like twenty-five?"
"That's not the point. I'm older than Gareth. Besides, how old are you?"
"You know I'm not going to answer that."
I sighed. "Yeah, I know," I said. "Still, that three or four years between the real world and college add up a lot."
The panther squeezed my leg. "So you simultaneously feel like he's both less mature than you and more mature than you?"
"I didn't say that."
"Of course you didn't," Kario said. "Because if you'd done that you'd have realized that what you're saying doesn't make any sense."
"I..." My teeth bit into my lip. "Well, I mean, what if he is on the cusp of some big life change?"
"Is that really any of your business?"
"It is if I'm going to sleep with him," I said. "Like, what if this whole 'trying to date people' thing is his way of trying to get himself ready for the real world after his wild college phase is over?"
My mattress shifted as Kario propped himself up onto one elbow and looked down at me. "Your problem has nothing to do with Gareth being in college. Or about him graduating or 'big life differences' or any of that."
That made me prop myself up as well. "All right, then, smart guy. What does my problem have to do with?"
"I don't even know if it's a problem," Kario said. "Well, except in that you don't seem to have realized what your own deal is, yet."
"And you have?"
"That's the obvious part. That's the part where you're interested in Gareth."
My ears began to twitch. "Of course I'm interested in him. He's a cute gay coyote and I really want to nail him. Why wouldn't I be interested in him?"
The panther rolled his eyes. "You're interested in him on a level that involves more than just slutty, casual sex," he said. "Which, yes, I guess I can see where that would maybe shock you."
"Whoa, hey, no." Now I was sitting completely upright. "I never said anything about wanting to date him or-"
"You don't shut up about him dating. And you're upset with yourself because you've been trying to get to know him better as a person and somehow missed something as obvious as him being a college student."
My tongue tripped over itself, which was fine because I didn't even know what I was going to say. Yeah, Kario had a point in that I'd started to think about Gareth as a pretty good friend and all, and maybe I'd been assuming that we were closer than we really were.
And maybe I didn't want to assume to much. Maybe I did want to be closer to him. I mean, not necessarily dating, but... something.
"He and I have a lot in common," I said. "You know, dancing, partying, drinking, sleeping around. I don't think it's wrong to like someone for that."
"Maybe he doesn't think so, either," Kario said. "And maybe you shouldn't assume what he wants without actually talking to him about it."
"Come on, I didn't mean-"
"Shush. Talk to Gareth later." A big, warm fingertip pressed my lips shut.
I tried to speak around that fingertip anyway. "But I just-"
"Are you going to talk to him?"
I held still for a couple more seconds, and Kario eventually took his finger away from my muzzle. "Yes, I'm going to call him," I said. "It feels like cheating, just calling him up and asking him to get together."
Kario chuckled. "Isn't that what you did to me tonight?"
"You're different," I said. "You and I are already fucking."
"And maybe you and he will be down with that soon enough, too." The panther set a paw on my hip and patted firmly. "But okay, enough about coyotes. Roll yourself over onto your belly for me again."
It took me two days of obsessing to actually get up the nerve to call Gareth. What if Kario was wrong? What if by daring to admit that I was interested in getting to know him outside of a nightclub or bedroom after I had balked at his own interests back on the night of Game Six, I just ended up driving him off?
But, I reminded myself, relying on the planets to align so that we'd have enough time to ourselves to even sneak a quick blowjob hadn't worked at all so far. Waiting for the time that we'd be able to have a decent conversation seemed like a dumb move.
So I poured myself a bottle of leftover Sauvignon Blanc from the night before, jerked off so that I wouldn't let myself think with my hormones, and called the coyote up.
He answered on the fourth ring. I almost thought he wasn't going to pick up at all. "Hello?" he asked. There was definite disorientation in his voice.
"It's Reylin. Hi." Fuck, why was it so hard to come up with something to say? I talked up random strangers all the time and it wasn't half this weird. "Hey, I was wondering if you were free to get, like, dinner or coffee or something."
There was a long pause. Then I heard quiet giggling. "You sound like you're asking me out."
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why'd I listen to that stupid panther? "What, me? No. No way, I just-I mean, it's just, it's not like that. I just want to hang out and I know you're super-busy and so I thought I'd try to schedule something definite instead of just hoping I'd run into you."
"Geez, man, calm down. And take a breath. I'm just teasing you." I heard the coyote take a sip of something and then smack his lips. "But yeah, no, I'm busy tonight. Sorry."
"Studying?" I asked Shit, two weeks ago I'd have ribbed on him and probably accused him of being too busy fucking someone else. Which would have been hot and probably true, and if he'd denied it, I'd have assumed it was true anyway because of how hot an image it was. Now I wasn't sure if him fucking someone else would wound me or not.
But he just said, "Yeah, studying. My last finals are both in two days and I've, uh, kind of slacked off this semester. So I need to make sure I do extra-well on them."
"Oh. Oh, well, that's okay." I looked at my empty wineglass. "I guess that means you won't be out dancing tomorrow, either?"
"Sorry," the coyote replied. "I can try to find out who else on campus is going and recommend some guys for you to hit on, though."
Was this the brush-off, then? "Look, if you're just after a slutty hookup, I can point you in the right direction, but I'm after something more serious" No, no. Gareth didn't play mindgames and I knew it. But I was paranoid nevertheless. "That's okay. I might take a week off, too."
"Are you okay?"
"Huh? Yeah, fine."
"Is this about last week at the bar?" he asked. "Because if you feel like you need to make it up to me, it's cool. I don't mind that you're not into basketball. I still like you."
"I like you too."
There was another pause there, and I could only imagine that Gareth was smiling a big, proud, coyote smile. "How about next week?" he asked. "After finals are done. We can hang out and celebrate."
"Celebrate, huh?" Oh, it took every shred of my willpower to keep from making some lewd comment. "Yeah, all right. Let's do that."
"All right. I'll call you in a couple of days." And then he hung up.
It took me a few more seconds before I felt relief at his not having said, "It's a date."
That being said, when we did meet up, it was pretty much a date. At least going by most definitions of the word.
I remembered this one time, a couple months back, where Gareth mentioned being into scotch, or wanting to get into scotch, or something, and since I knew now that he was on a college student's budget, I told him I'd treat him to some drinks down at the bar at this one really classy hotel downtown. It wasn't terribly exclusive or anything, but it necessitated my wearing something other than shorts that showed off my ass and crotch, so by my standards it was dressing up.
Gareth actually wore a tie. It was a strange sight, but the purple suited the patterns of his fur really well, somehow, and it made him look handsome. Older. Not like a senior in college.
"So congratulations," I said, holding up my glass to him. "On, like, almost-graduating, or something."
The coyote smiled. "It's cool. We get our own special deadbeat ceremony and everything." He raised his glass and clinked it against mine.
I took a tiny sip. Honestly, scotch is usually a bit too harsh for me, but I was willing to put it up with it for...well, for Gareth.
And we just talked, like two normal people sharing drinks and enjoying each other's company. I told him about how things were going with my work, and he told me about school and college life. I still couldn't tell why four years felt like forever ago to me, but hearing Gareth tell me about frat parties and trips on spring break and this one particularly epic GSU festival weekend ("Got laid three times in as many days by three different guys.") made me feel nostalgic, even though my life wasn't really anything like that.
"And your friends in school are cool with you being gay and stuff?" I asked.
"It's college. If I can't find enough people who are open-minded, I'm doing it wrong." The coyote looked over the scotch list for a second drink. "Besides, I'm not all 'in your face' gay all over campus."
"You're certainly very fabulous and open whenever I see you."
One eye rose up from the tiny list and fixed on my face. "Yes, but that's where I'm in my element," he said. "Besides, why do you think I have sex in the back rooms of clubs and stuff? I'm not about to bring some strange guy back to my dorm room. I don't think my roommate would appreciate it, for one."
I giggled into my own glass of scotch, thinking about the poor, flustered husky I'd picked up. He hadn't had a dorm roommate, near as I could tell. "Well, I mean, it's cool that you get to do what you like to do."
"And who I like to do. Don't forget that." He winked, then looked back down at the list in his paws and frowned. "Hey, um, look at number seventeen. It's kind of pricey, but are you cool with that?"
Number seventeen was pricey. "Go for it," I told the coyote. "Consider this an early graduation present."
"I'm sure I'll get something out of you later." He adjusted his tie and the collar of his shirt, then signaled for the waiter. "Hopefully something more than a card."
He was skirting the edge since we were in a public place, I could tell. But I was okay playing that game with him. Especially since I was paying. "Depends on how well you behave. And how well you do in this summer session of yours."
Gareth laughed and smiled. "Oh, please," he said, waving a paw. "You're not my dad. And you're not my daddy."
"You're damn right I'm not. You'd be way too expensive."
"With as much money as you must spend pampering yourself? Yeah, probably." He leaned in to place his order with the rabbit waitress, who smiled and nodded and disappeared. Turning his gaze back to me, the coyote smiled more honestly. "Seriously, Reylin. Thank you for this."
"It's the least I can do."
"Not really." Gareth scooted to the edge of his seat and leaned closer to me. "You know you don't need to do anything fancy if you just want to spend time with me."
I pretended to take another sip of my own scotch. I was going to need to make it last. "Is it weird that I might want to do something nicer than just hang out at a nightclub?" Then, quieter, I added, "Whether we end up in a back room somewhere or not?"
"Can I tell you something, actually?" Gareth leaned in closer still, his tail smacking against the back of his chair a few times. "C'mere." He motioned with a paw for me to lean in, too.
I did. He locked his eyes right on me. "So the other day, there was this party back on campus," he murmured, "and there was this cute ringtail who kinda reminded me of you."
"Uh-huh?"
"Uh-huh." There was a certain eagerness to his slight nod. "He's one of the GSU guys, even. And I totally had this window opportunity where I totally could have blown him."
The waitress chose that exact moment to return, and though Gareth was keeping his voice down, it was clear from the look on her face as she set the scotch on the table that she'd heard him anyway. Gareth smiled at her as he picked up his glass and sat back to lounge in his chair. "I didn't do it, though," he said, speaking in his normal tone of voice as the waitress shuffled off.
I tried to keep the innate curiosity out of my voice as best I could. "How come?"
"Because I thought of you," the coyote said before he tried the expensive scotch and made a face before exhaling in pleasure. "And I figure, after what I said to you a few weeks ago, I need to save myself for you."
While that was a nice (and hot) sentiment, my smile faltered. "Okay, so seriously, what's the deal?" I asked. "You play all hard-to-get until I make the slightest suggestion that I might like you, and now you're suddenly making it all about sex?"
"Who says I don't like you?" The coyote set his drink down. "And when did I say it was all about sex?"
The glass of scotch in my paw was now a lot more inviting. I took a large sip to help make up for lost time. "It's just what you said and how you said it. It came across as really-"
"Slutty?" Gareth crossed one leg over the other. "Yeah, that was kind of the point. Last time I checked, you found that kind of hot."
"Well, yes." And it was also hot that he was being so blunt about it now.
The coyote swirled the amber liquid around in its glass. "Well, I like you and I want to do hot things for you."
I polished off the rest of my own drink. "But see, that's where I'm confused," I said. "When you say that you like me-"
"Wow, you really haven't been on a date with somebody in a long time, have you?" He leaned forward again and relaxed out of his haughty, cocksure posture. "Relax, man. We're having some drinks and you're being really nice to me. Like I said, I know you know you don't need to spend money on me to get me to suck your dick."
On instinct, I looked to see where the waitress was, but she was nowhere to be seen. Good. "Is that why you think I'm doing this?"
"I think you're doing this because you like me." He held out the glass of scotch. "And I'm flirting back because I like you, too. Here, try this."
Expensive or not, I knew I wouldn't properly appreciate the scotch. I took a sip anyway. To me, it just tasted like burning. I handed it back. "So if I said I wasn't sure how serious I wanted this to get, would you still come home with me?"
"Oh, honey, it's so cute to see you like this." Even mocking me, the coyote's smile was nice and handsome. "Liking someone and wanting to have sex with someone aren't mutually exclusive things, you know. I think you may have forgotten that somewhere along the way."
My big ears filled up with a deep, throbbing blush. "You're right," I said. "I'm not used to this. And I'm not sure whether my liking you is motivated just by my wanting to sleep with you, or if that's part of it but not all of it, or if there's something else that-"
"So then just go for it," Gareth said. "You've already taken me out on a nice date. Afterwards, you can tell me how nice a time you had and then we can see each other again sometime. It's not that complicated."
The tingle of scotch remained on my tongue. "Well, what about our... hobbies?" Gareth might have been willing to speak plainly in a classy joint like this, but in my current emotional state, I couldn't bring myself to do the same. "I don't know if I'm ready for anything exclusive."
The coyote snorted. "That's cool, because I know I'm not." His whiskers twitched as he took a sniff of his glass, but he didn't sip again. "And let's be honest: for the time being, neither of us would enjoy not being slutty."
I cracked a smile. "Collegiate stress-relief?" I asked.
"Hey, is it too much to believe that I just like to fuck for fucking's sake?"
Even in the collared shirt, slacks, and tie, it was easy to imagine Gareth in a fishnet top and a pair of skimpy shorts. "That's too too much to believe at all."
"Good." The coyote polished off the rest of his drink, stood up, and offered me a paw. "Come on."
"Are we going somewhere?"
"We'd better be going back to your place," he said. "The universe has cockblocked us way too many times already."
I took Gareth's paw and stood up. Then I pulled out my wallet and threw some bills down on the table. I'd left way too much of a tip, but I didn't feel like waiting for the waitress to bring me some change. "You sure that's not the scotch talking, little guy?"
"As if you'd say no even if it were."
"You've got me there." I squeezed his paw, and then, against my better judgment, I kissed him on the cheek.
It felt nice, though. And the way he smiled at me afterwards felt even nicer. "C'mon," he muttered more quietly, slender muzzle near my ear. "Let's get going before I get banned from a five-star hotel for getting caught jerking you off in the bathroom."
I reeled the coyote in closer by his necktie, then I smacked him on the backside and pushed him past me, towards the door. His tail wagged eagerly as he flounced along, looking just once over his shoulder to make sure I was on his heels.
God, I was going to fuck him so hard.