Neon Shadows
Neon Shadows
By Kichigai Kitsune - 2010
Disclaimer: This story is gay, furry, erotic short story. It features homosexual sex between a sixteen-year-old and an older male - BOTH furries (non-human anthropomorphic creatures). It also features drug use, and underage drinking. If you are not legally allowed to read this, or think this material would be offensive, do not proceed beyond this disclaimer. Furthermore, this is a simple writing exercise just to get myself back into writing consistently after having some trouble staying motivated of late (and what's simpler and easier than stock-standard gay furry porn?) so don't expect the same sort of quality or depth as my usual work. Hell, don't even expect any sequels... though feel free to ask for some, if support for the idea is strong enough I'll consider it. ALL characters in here were thought up by myself on a lazy night of boredom; any resemblance to real humans, living or dead, as well as resemblance to any furry characters owned by others, is purely coincidental. I repeat: "Snow", "Smoke" and the others are NOT intended to be other people's fursonas being spliced into my story. They are MY characters, not someone else's, regardless of similarities-which would obviously not be intentional. (In other words, I do not know of a "Snow" or "Smoke" character.) Forgive the bland sexings. :3
The temperature was high. The music was loud. Hundreds of flailing limbs and shrill voices. Many furs availing themselves of drink, as varicolored bright lights dazzled and disoriented. It was perfect. Where he wanted to be. A silver fox weaved gracefully, like liquid, between the undulating crowd, darting smoothly between the unaware and dissipated. The pockets of the tight leather pants on his lithe legs were heavy, and the tastefully layered combination of black muscle-shirt and full-sleeved fishnet t-shirt were struggling to contain his joy, even if they appeared to be form-fitting to his lean torso. Despite his many glowing adornments - wristbands, glow-stick necklaces and more, covering him with all their piercing, enchanting iridescence- he knew he was moving unseen. He bumped into one rather attractive female leopard, wearing... almost nothing at all. She turned and looked at him with drug-addled eyes, giggling hysterically. "Heh, sorry," he said loudly, though he still had to wonder if she heard a thing over the repetitive, thudding bass and the effects of the ecstasy-and god knew what else. She giggled some more and gave him an inappropriately passionate hug, and brushed his shoulder-length, beaded, white hair aside to firmly kiss his nose. He responded, touching her briefly before winking a deep blue eye at her. Then he melted away into the crowd... his pockets heavier all of a sudden. He had to wonder why. The slender vulpine reached the bar, and he was fortunate enough to encounter a chair about to be vacated, and he pounced on it as quickly as possible, slipping onto the seat as soon as its previous occupier staggered to his paws and away. The nightclub was packed to bursting, and the fox had been having a blast; it was wonderful to be able to set himself on his backside for a moment. "How ya goin', Smoke?" he heard, and he looked up at the well-dressed bar-tender. The russet cercal leaned on the bar, careful to avoid getting any of the spilled, brightly colored cocktails on his pristine white shirt. Around his neck was a slim, rainbow-hued collar, and he grinned widely. "How's it goin', hon?" 'Smoke', the silver fox, returned the grin. "Oooh, just sweet, babe." "Hope you left them with enough to still buy a few drinks," breathed the cercal, barely audible over the incessant thumping of the music and incoherently grumbling of the patrons. "I don't think so, hot-stuff," Smoke said, his voice high and fluting. "I don't hang around to give them their change." The cercal shook his head disapprovingly. "How many d'ya hit?" "About twelve," responded Smoke modestly. "I keep getting distracted by the music. And yourself of course." "Don't try to flatter me, Smokey-buns. If you make too much of a scene tonight, things might get difficult. I won't be able to get you in again." The feline drew himself up and smiled winsomely. "That bein' said... what's your poison, sweetie?" Smoke pretended to think it over. "Oooh, I dunno. What're you thinkin'?" "How does a zombie sound?" "That sounds new and interesting!" "Exciting, isn't it?" The bartender chuckled lightly and went off to make the usual drink. Smoke took the opportunity to turn and take in the sight of the nightclub, properly this time. It was truly uncanny, he thought, just how much it looked like a writhing army of octopuses was trying to dance together. Although that may just be because he's weird, he admitted. There had to be at least one-hundred-and-fifty furs in the club, and it could scarcely support two-thirds of that number comfortably. Smoke was a fairly headstrong, brash kid despite his apparent femininity, but the reason he truly liked to work nightclubs was that he was almost invisible. He could dress as crazily as he liked to, act as outrageously as he wanted to, and nobody seemed to really see him. Even if they did, he could lose them surprisingly easy for a fur of such an unusual breed. Also, he quite liked the music. The adorable bartender returned with the vivid cocktail, and Smoke took it gratefully. Almost immediately, he had downed a mouthful of the sweet, fruity drink through the supplied straw. "How're the others?" "Fine!" Smoke chortled. "Ooh, this is wonderful. You make these so well, babe." He drank again, before eyeing the cercal curiously. "Didn't Snow pay you yet?" "No, he did. Just wondering how you're all goin'! You've been so out of touch lately." Smoke finished the cocktail, replacing the tall glass on the bar's counter. "We're goin' as best we can. You know, hot-stuff, you're getting a cut tonight, too. I won't let them rip you off." The cercal's expressions became worried. "A-are they likely to try?" "Nope, but just in case. We don't steal from people who help us. Just... everyone else on the planet." Smoke giggled boyishly. "We have some limits, hon." The cercal recovered and leaned closer. "Oh, that's a disappointment," he whispered in a sultry voice. Smoke also leaned closer, until their noses touched sensually. "Outside the bedroom, that is." All of a sudden, a heavy paw crashed down on Smoke's shoulder, and he almost wilted under the pressure. He turned and beheld the unpleasant visage of an inebriated lion, his face framed by a rusty, unkempt mane that had been mutilated into dry, dirty dreadlocks. "Hey, you little faggy shit!" the lion growled, unsteady on his paws. "I see you touchin' my girl, then I come over here and see you fagging it up with this princess? You think you're gonna get away with this?" "Um," Smoke began, frowning in thought. "Yes?" "Wrong, fag." "You seem to like that word." The lion shook his head, smirking nastily. "Think I didn't see your pussy ass lifting my chick's cell? You're fuckin' dead. I'm gonna fuck you over so badly, shit-dick, the police will have to scrape you up just to haul your ass in." That changed things, Smoke ruefully admitted to himself. So, smiling right back at the lion, he slapped his paw right into the exposed groin before him, gripping the testicles as hard as he could, ripping them upwards viciously. The lion would've cried out in horror and agony, but something seemed to have stolen his voice. The horror and agony, most likely. "What, no drink first?" Smoke taunted lamely, before pushing the lion backwards. The huge brute stumbled backwards, clutching at his testicles. Smoke snatched up his empty glass, and easily tossed it the few feet to the lion's face. It spectacularly dashed itself into many sharp pieces on the big nose, and the burly feline howled in pain, clutching at his suddenly bloody face. In a single swift motion, the wiry Smoke lashed out with his left leg, and there was a sullen crack as his shin made contact with the lion's neck. The lion collapsed against the bar, and slid almost perfectly into one of the stools. A few patrons had turned at the sound and movement, but through the haze of their many drugs and drinks, their uncomprehending eyes just stared blankly at the slumped form of the lion. Smoke raised his paws innocently and smirked his derision. Under the impression the lion had fallen prey to his own consumptions, the few eyes that were looking their way turned back to whatever inanity they had been occupied with before. "Whoa..." the cercal squeaked. His eyes were quite possibly the only sober ones in the building, and there was no mistaking what he just saw. "I-I can't believe what I just saw. In l-leather too..." Giggling, Smoke winked, adjusting his fishnet shirt. "Then don't. Anyway... I should be off. If he knew what I was up to, his ho probably does too." He paused. "Ugh, and when a track I actually like comes on, too. Siiiigh." "Umm, alright. I-I'll catch you soon, Smokey." The bartender's eyes were dinner-plate width now. "I'm sorry if that caused you any trouble," the fox nodded at the unconscious feline. The cercal shrugged. "If he remembers anything when he wakes up, I'll be shocked. See you, tough guy." Smoke shook his head flirtatiously. "Tough? I'm mostly pretty soft, actually. Swing by, you can see for yourself." With that, he chortled delightedly and made his way to the exit, weaving and dodging once more.
The street was wet, cold and desolate. It was nothing like the beautiful, bright world Smoke had just left, and he felt downcast almost immediately upon exiting to this harsh reality. It didn't take him long at all to trudge to the steps of his apartment building, given that he lived only a few streets away. A few disgusting streets, where trashcans, not always upright, and vents spewed foul smelling steam into the cold night, and drunken yelling was oft heard in the distance. He unlocked the door and shoved it open, stepping into the disordered excuse of an apartment he called a home. The lights were on when he stepped in and shut the door. As he turned to look around, trying to decipher who was there, two shockingly strong paws grabbed him and shoved him almost contemptuously into the door. He was winded momentarily, and he got no chance to recover. He was suddenly pressed into the door by a huge, warm and shirtless frame; his skinny upper arms were clasped and pinned tightly to his torso. "Morning," the powerful white tiger growled in his ear. "Have fun?" Smoke almost placidly nuzzled his best friend's neck. "Tons." "Uh-huh. How many times did you hit on Timothy?" "Only a couple, Snow. Why?" The tiger chuckled and squeezed Smoke's tiny form to the brink of comfort. "Come on now. Don't you forget who you belong to, bitch." "Belong to?" Smoke chuckled and swiftly raised a knee. The impact with Snow's happy-sack was rather firm, but the six-foot-two muscle-bound feline didn't even flinch. He just laughed and pulled Smoke from the door, hurling him easily to the couch covered with clothes, CD cases and various other paraphernalia. "I see you still got some energy to work off," Snow said smoothly. "I'll be glad to oblige." Smoke's heart-rate went into overdrive, and he kicked off his shoes. In seconds, Snow was on him, holding him close, kissing him and touching him all over. Smoke didn't know about his mate's, but his own 'member' was starting to stiffen already. "You two are just disgusting," chided another voice, and they paused. "You can't wait five minutes." Sighing melodramatically, Smoke pushed the powerful Snow off him, and stood. He rounded the small gray couch to confront the wolf sitting on his customary beanbag, reading a novel and clutching a beer bottle in his free paw. "Ryan?" gasped Smoke, exaggeratedly shocked. "Why on EARTH are you still awake? Don't you have school tomorrow?" The wolf looked up at him, his eyes piercing behind his delicate glasses. He wore a white buttoned shirt and jeans-he was the brains of their operation, most certainly. "I have a better question," he deadpanned. "Why are you awake? Isn't it past your bed-time?" He barely had time to put down his book and beer before the lightweight Smoke dropped into his lap, encircling his neck with his silver-furred arms. "I'm a big boy now, Ryan. Don't have a bed-time." Ryan cocked an ear and smirked. "You are barely sixteen. I, for one, am not so sure your balls have dropped yet." "You could always check." The wolf burst out laughing, hugging Smoke's small frame tightly. "You're incorrigible." "And loving it. Whatever that means." Smoke smooched the wolf's black nose. "You're a little ecstatic tonight," muttered Ryan, wrinkling that nose. "From what I feel in your pockets, tonight was a successful endeavor." Smoke stood. "Either that," he chortled, "or I'm happy to see you." Suddenly, the vulpine teen found himself being lifted into the air by a pair of powerful paws. "Whoooaa!" He was easily deposited on the couch again, and Snow crawled back on top of him. "Don't think you can get away..." he murmured into his mate's ear, running a single paw down the teen's body. He undid the fly on the leather pants, sensually pulling them down and off Smoke's legs. Then he threw them at Ryan. "Count it out," he directed. "He shouldn't have had a chance to hide anything." Smoke rolled his eyes and sighed. "C'mon, Snow, I've done that, what, once?" "Yeah. Once or twice. That I know of. And you're saving up again for something, so I'm not trusting you." The powerful paw grasped Smoke's crotch through his black briefs and squeezed. "I think you're hot as hell, but not trustworthy." "What if I promise to never do it again, hmm?" Smoke leaned up to the big tiger's face, licking him once on the chin. "Will you believe me?" Snow retaliated with a full on muzzle-to-muzzle snog, kissing the teenage fox into silence, before drawing back with a wet suction sound. Their muzzles remained connected via a glittering thin tendril of saliva. "No. But you won't be doing it again anyway. Because if you do, I'll do something nasty to you. That you won't like." "That's gotta be pretty nasty..." breathed Smoke, wincing as Snow squeezed and massaged his testicles roughly. "Unh! C-careful!" The tiger shook his big head. "I'm going to put your ass back in its place," he growled seductively, smirking as a desperate Smoke tried to push his arm away. The kid was strong-much stronger than some would think, with his slender limbs wrapped in tight muscle-but he was nothing to Snow, and he knew that. He liked that. Ryan coughed politely to get their attention. "Ahem. We have six thousand dollars in cash, and little Smokey managed to get us a few hundred dollars worth of various electronic equipment. Mostly cell-phones." Squeezing even harder now, grasping one of Smoke's wrists to keep it out of the way, Snow chuckled. "Would you say he did well, then?" "Well enough." The vulpine squirmed, his expression pained now. "Shit! L-leggo, Snow! Seriously. That really hurts." "Lego? I thought you were a big boy now." Snow chuckled and relented. "Let's see how grown-up you really are." He tugged the form-fitting underwear down and off the fox, eliciting a gasp from him. Smoke grinned and spread his legs. "You aren't gonna go at it and leave me wearing all this, are you?" "Does it matter?" Snow chuckled. Nonetheless, he ran his paws down Smoke's slender leg, before removing both of his socks. "There. The tops are just too cute." Smoke kicked him playfully. "Cute?" he protested, pouting. "I thought they were bad-ass." "There's nothing bad about your ass." They heard Ryan groaning loudly. "But your jokes on the other hand..." he complained, standing. "I'm going to bed, now that you're back. I don't think I can handle listening to your infantile attempts to sweet-talk one another." Smoke giggled cheerfully. "You're just upset because you don't have a dick in you." Rather than issuing a counter-retort, Ryan left the messy living room, closing the door to his bedroom firmly. Snow chuckled lightly, before wrapping his arms around Smoke and hugging the teen tightly. "Well, I thought he'd at least stay around for the show." The fox returned the embrace. "He's right, you know. Your one-liners suck." "Not as much as you do." "See what I mean?" The pair snickered, but Smoke was silenced by another intrusive kiss. Their tongues interlocked, and Snow slipped a paw to the back of his much smaller mate's head, holding him firmly in place as he intrepidly explored the already familiar interior of the fox's warm, wet muzzle. Smoke whimpered, submitting utterly as he was wont to. Once more, Snow broke away, smiling tenderly down at his partner. "You did real well," he grumbled. "I'm proud of ya." "Heh." Smoke shrugged modestly. "I've been a pickpocket my whole life. All you did was teach me how to kick people." Snow raised an eyebrow. "And took you in. And got you in on this little operation. Or did you forget all that?" "I'm pretty good at forgetting debts." The tiger shook his head. He started to remove the glow-sticks and related adornments from the fox's frame. "Nah, no you ain't. Or else you wouldn't be here." The teen reached out and encircled his much larger friend's neck, insistently pulling him down. "Okay, you got me." Once more they kissed. This time, a large tiger paw descended to the exposed vulpine's groin, tenderly massaging around that area, finding a particular soft, warm object and stroking teasingly. So close to his fox-boy, Snow could hear his breathing increase in rapidity, and those smaller paws clutched pawfuls of his striped fur. In moments, the teen's member was rigid and he was gasping quietly into Snow's muzzle. Once again, the tiger broke the kiss and looked down at Smoke's flushed, desperate face. "You're the gayest creature I've ever met," he observed flatly. "That a bad thing?" groaned the fox, squirming and looking up at his partner pleadingly. "I see making you go without for a few weeks has made you even hornier than before-somehow. I guess it's an effective reward." Snow nuzzled into the crook of Smoke's neck. "Made you do a good job at the club. Think we should do it that way again?" Smoke whined pathetically, once again clutching at Snow's back. "God, no! It was hell! I can't take anymore!" Still with his muzzle buried into the fox's warm neck, Snow shook his head. "I don't think so, kid. I think you like it. I think it... gave you a little incentive. So... tonight I'll reward you, but the rules are still in place. No touching yourself. Nothing like that. Not until I say so." The fox whimpered. "Damn it..." Firm and invasive, Snow's paws travelled all over the silver-gray fur of his mate. Smoke closed his eyes and obligingly spread out, giving him completely free access. His eyes shot open once more when a paw slipped between his legs, over his downy scrotum and pressed firmly against the fox's backside. "Ah!" "What's back here?" chortled Snow, lightly prodding at the hole he found there. Smoke's back arched off the couch, and he whimpered. "Oh, you seem to like this. Or really hate it." While Smoke's back was arched, and his hips thrust into the air, Snow slipped his big muzzle over the prominent erection that had been waggling at him. It wasn't particularly large, belong as it did to the young, slender fox, and it was soft, tasty in his muzzle. Smoke immediately let out a shuddering cry and collapsed to the couch, moaning as one side was engulfed by Snow's experienced, hot muzzle, the other assailed by his talented, teasing fingers. The vulpine's ears flattened and he tensed up. "Oh man!" he wailed inanely. Snow slurped and sucked, while a single digit began to slowly penetrate the fox's tail-hole. Predictably, Smoke gasped, but caught between the muzzle and the paw in his backside, he had nowhere to go. When the tiger's finger and claw slipped inside of him, Smoke yelped aloud. It immediately sought out his neglected prostate, wriggling its way around inside him until it found the sensitive node. The teenage fox knew he couldn't handle much more already. So, naturally, Snow knew to stop and look up at the fox's face, alight with consternation. "Getting ahead of the program, Smokey?" he asked coolly, kneading at his mate's prostate briefly. "I think I gotta punish you for that. At least a little." "Shit!" squeaked Smoke, reaching down unthinkingly to grasp at his own penis. Snow grabbed the wrist, then the other, and held them both over Smoke's head. The teen squirmed restlessly, his expression looking truly desperate now. "Is it a punishment if you get what you want?" Snow murmured, grasping both the fox's wrists in one paw loosely, then reaching under the couch for something with his free paw. "Let's find out." In moments, he had wrapped and locked the cuffs around Smoke's skinny wrists, and the teen closed his eyes, groaning in some bizarre ambivalent mixture of dismay and excitement. A thin chain was easily looped through the D-rings of the cuffs, and Snow attached it to something at the bottom of the couch, beyond the armrest above Smoke's head. He had used the chain to connect Smoke's wrists... to his three-hundred-pound barbell that he kept on the floor. As dangerous as it was to leave them lying around in this mess, they made for convenient attachment points for things like this... and Smoke had absolutely zero chance of moving them an inch. Smoke gave a perfunctory tug on the chain. He tried his best, but even as his toned body tensed and struggled impressively, the tiger's weights were as immovable as a mountain to him, as always. "You'll hurt yourself, sweetie," taunted Snow. "Delicate snowflakes like you shouldn't try to lift weights." "Screw you," replied Smoke, grinning playfully. Snow chuckled, and straightened his playmate out on the couch, so the fox was stretched out neatly. "I don't think so, Smokey." He lifted the black t-shirt on Smoke's body, and prodded his navel through the fish-net undershirt. "Gonna make sure you're nice and rewarded for your work before you even get to consider having a turn." "Well, are you gonna talk about it, or get to it, brawny?" enquired Smoke, trying to make his voice sound polite and confident but he was shaking already. Snow had deprived him of everything in the last few weeks, just because the depraved muscle-building tiger liked to see Smoke at his weakest: begging for release and submissive to his every whim. Despite the clearly provocative taunting, that is. Rolling his eyes, Snow mounted the teen, pinning his slender frame easily to the soft couch. "Neither, babe." He positioned his paws in the slight recessions of Smoke's underarms. "You ready to wake the neighbors?" "Oh shit!!" squealed Smoke, trying once again to bring his arms down, but thwarted utterly by the extreme weight he was attached to. "No, no, no! Don't you do that! Don't you do that, Snow! Please!" Snow shrugged. "You keep opening your trap like that. If I do this, you'll not be able to keep your trap shut, so we can get it all out of your system before we start the main event. It sounds fine to me." "B-but that's because you're crazy!" The teen wriggled uselessly beneath the two-hundred and fifty-odd pound frame of his playmate. His own weight was scarcely more than half of Snow's. It felt like he was being held down by the weight of a car. "No, no, d-don't do-WAH!! Hahaheeheeheee-STOOOOP!" Snow assaulted the teen's armpits viciously, experiencing a thrill of excitement shudder through him as the fox struggled helplessly to fend him off. He moved down to the prominent ribcage, careful not to damage the fishnet t-shirt, but still trying to drive the younger thief insane. Screeching with incessant laughter and trying in vain to kick his legs, Smoke strained and squirmed, but avoiding those paws was just impossible. He was helpless. "Staaaaahaahahap!" he bawled, his eyes flooding with tears now. "I'll stop! I'll stop! I promise! Hahahaaa!" His throat was getting sore already; the effect of the shouting at the nightclub, and the smoke and alcohol. In one sinuous movement, Snow slid down Smoke's body, and quickly engulfed the very stiff, very sensitive pole he found down there. Smoke gasped in delight, but it was short lived. Snow reached up and started to attack his tense, lithe stomach with his claws. The hysterical laughter resumed. Snow didn't stop until he realized Smoke was trembling and seemed to be having issues breathing - almost ten minutes later. He then got off the teen, kneeling by him. One paw took Smoke's erection in its grasp, pumping languorously. "I think that was enough..." he whispered, gently rubbing the small chest before him. The fox groaned at him wordlessly. Chortling, Snow grasped Smoke's ankles and pulled his legs upwards, taking up position at the teen's backside. He allowed Smoke's shins to rest on his wide shoulders as he undid his own khakis. The fly was undone and his own rock-hard penis sprang out. Snow pressed his member to Smoke's smaller one, and firmly massaged them both. He smirked archly at the fox, who was watching him intently. "Do you want this, Smokey-baby?" he asked huskily. Smoke, naturally, nodded eagerly, pulling his legs upward even further. "Y-yes," he whispered. Snow was many things. A thief, a brawler, a bit of a jerk... but he was not an inconsiderate lover. He withdrew a condom from the pockets of the pants around his thighs. He ripped open the packet and had it sheathing his cock in seconds-a speed born of practice. The slick, plastic sheathed member nudged at Smoke's tail-hole, and the fox whined expectantly. With a firm shove, the tip entered, and Smoke gasped his delight, his teen cock twitching reflexively. Snow held one of the fox's legs, and leaned forward, slowly inching himself deeper and deeper into the warm delight of Smoke's body. It took only a minute or so to fully hilt his eight inch member in the fox's backside, and Smoke was whimpering and writhing gently all throughout. The hard rod embedded in his butt pressed right up against his prostate, and the lubricated condom made even the slightest movements a joy. That being said... Smoke would've honestly preferred something a little more slippery than just the condom itself. But it was obvious now that what he wanted and what was about to take place only coincided due to pure luck-he couldn't stop Snow now. Snow began to buck, slowly at first. He pushed his weight downwards, keeping Smoke as still as possible, hampering the fox's instinctive squirming born of excitement. The humping gained in speed and intensity, steadily slipping the tiger's large cock in and out, in and out... "S-Snoooow!" the vulpine wailed softly, closing his eyes and groaning meekly. A response wasn't necessary. Snow plowed away, slipping a paw around Smoke's upraised thigh to encircle the teen's penis, in desperate need of attention by this point. He begun to masturbate the little thief to the rhythm of his own humping. It only took a few minutes, with Smoke obviously holding on, resisting it to the best of his ability, before the teenager was rocked by a mind-breaking ecstasy. Denied for so long, the expert dual stimulation delivered him an orgasm like none he'd had before; he would've screamed aloud, but he couldn't find his voice. His body tensed and his back tried to arch, foiled by Snow's position atop of him. It seemed like a dam had broken within him, and appropriately, he came. The liquid shot right up, narrowly avoiding splattering into Snow's face, before arcing downward to land Smoke's fishnet covered belly. Seeing his playmate lose it, Snow did too, and he doubled over, shuddering and gasping. Together they stayed on the couch, trying to catch their breath, and, especially in Smoke's case, to recover from the incredible intensity of the feelings that moments before had overtaken their senses. It was not long later that a phone started to ring. Mildly embarrassed-which Smoke took note of, since it was so rare- Snow pulled his cell phone from his pants pocket. The same pocket from which he'd retrieved the condom. "Hello?" he mumbled, keeping his voice from shaking as best he could. Smoke closed his eyes and groaned, suddenly tired. That wicked tiredness that overwhelmed him after an orgasm had just descended upon him like a warm, tingly comforter. Snow didn't move from his position as he chatted on the phone; indeed, he didn't even remove his dick, which was oddly enough still quite stiff. But Smoke didn't mind-they may appear to be an odd couple, but the pair of them truly appreciated one another, and closeness was always good. It made a wonderful counterpoint to the violence and coercion that defined their relationship at first glance. Snow hung up, and smiled at the lethargic teen. "Guess what?" he rumbled, lightly rubbing Smoke's leg. "Whaaaat?" "Timothy is coming around soon..." Snow leaned down, sniffing and ultimately licking once at Smoke's soiled tummy. "And I think he wants to hold you to your word." Smoke's ears slowly perked. "R-really?" "Yeah. But there's one problem..." Snow chuckled. "I think I'd like to get a piece of him too." "That's just fine, honey," Smoke said broadly. "That's just fine. Now can you let me up?" "Are you kidding? You're not finished yet, little one." The fox sighed and rolled his eyes, still panting. "Ugh, a thief's life is so hard." "Not half as hard as you are still." "... Remember what I said about your one-liners? Didn't we cover this?" And he was silenced by a kiss...
--- THE END!
This is my apology for the huge delay between now and my last update! Love you all. -- Kichigai Kitsune