FSE

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I love this place. It's had its humble beginnings, back in the days when I was one of four furs here. We'd open the place up every Thursday night, get everything set, make sure the drinks and the snacks were at the ready, and then sit and wait, hoping for a new face or two to wander their way in, only to eventually check our watches, realize it was time to close up, and begin our way back towards home. Or, more accurately for some of us, back to our parents' waiting minivans.

Attendance has picked up strongly since then, thankfully. Being the only place for gay teens to get together and party in 50 miles has a habit of doing that. The fact that we're sponsored by my school's Gay Straight Alliance gives parents some comfort - something they're often lacking in the months and years after little Jimmy and little Susie told them they were "one of those queer types". I'm glad I never had to go through that crap. Mom and Dad were always there for me. Hell, I think they probably knew it before I did. A wispy little Fox like me, always with a gaggle of girls by my side, gossiping about shopping and fashion. I was practically dripping in homosexuality. Which conjures up some mental images I'll stash away for later.

Now, that brings you right up to this moment here. This is the moment when, in looking out over the groups of furs out on the dance floor, or over at the snack table, or bunched up in the corners trying to blend in to the walls, I saw him walk in the door, and every strand of fur on my body stood on end.

What the hell is he doing here?

My brain just couldn't come up with an answer that wasn't horribly worrying. Here he was, one of the star athletes at my school, a tall, lanky cheetah with a body that most girls would faint over, walking into our little sanctuary. He stuck out immediately - in the swirl of tight jeans, bright colors, and bouncing tails, he strode in in what was practically his uniform - loose athletic shorts, of course in our school's colors, and a black wife-beater. He even had that smug little look on his face. His eyes were half-closed, as if he was just too cool to look at things, and a miniscule little grin that told you that he was better than you, and that every cell of his body knew it.

My tail stiffened up immediately, and every muscle in me tensed in a fight-or-flight response. He must be in here to ruin this place. My place. I walked over, stepping carefully through the swishing tails and swinging arms of the dance floor, and caught him just as he was surveying the crowd.

"Chris."

I gave him a look up and down, the scowl on my face readily apparent.

"Hey... you're in my math class, right? Mark?"

He seemed oblivious to all of the ways in which my body language was telling him to get out. And he didn't even have my name right.

"It's Max."

"Oh, Max. That's right. I'm not exactly the best with names."

He trailed off at the end, giving a half-hearted chuckle, and looked over to the mass of dancing bodies. I glared at him.

"So, Chris, what brings you here? You do know what this is, right?"

The judgmental tone practically dripped from my voice. God, I could be such a bitch when I wanted to be.

"Yeah, well, I guess you could say that's why I'm here."

Bullshit.

I thought about calling him on his obvious lie for a moment. There was no way this basketball player, a boy constantly hounded by the finest specimens of the female gender, could possibly be gay. But then, I remembered that if there was one person in here who could out-bitch me, it was Sarah. She helped start this whole shindig with me, and according to her, our whole point was to "be open and accepting to one and all". She'd kick my ass if I tossed him out.

I stood there for a moment, pondering my options. Breaking my concentration, a paw found its way to my shoulder. I turned to find Sarah, with an oddly cheery smile on her face, and her large rabbit ears perked up at full attention.

I knew that face well. That was the face she made when she was pissed beyond belief, and trying desperately not to fall into the "angry butch lesbian" stereotype.

"Everything okay Max?"

"Yeah, Sarah, everything's just fine."

"Good. You know, I think the snack table needs re-stocking. Come."

I know a command when I hear one. My tail drooped between my legs as I followed lock-step behind her. Suddenly, as if he knew the exact perfect timing to bother me the most, I heard a voice come from behind me.

"See you later Max."

He followed it up with one of his characteristic little chuckles, and padded off in the direction of the dancing.

The snack table decidedly did not need restocking, and Sarah's practically hissed words to me confirmed exactly what was going on.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Sarah, look, I know this guy--"

"Cut the crap. He's an athlete, you don't like him, and you want to kick him out."

Okay, if Sarah is good at one thing, it's reading me.

"No, I just wanted to--"

"Berate the guy about why he's here? Run a chance of destroying our school funding? You tell me."

She had a point. If the school ever got word that we were chasing away straight students - hell, any students - we'd have our funding cut quicker than... something that's very quick.

"I know. I just... there's no good reason for him to be here."

Sarah looked at me for a moment, sighing softly.

"I know, Max, but we can't help that. All we can hope for is that he won't start too much trouble while he's here, and that we can do enough damage control tomorrow morning to keep him from outing every fur here."

In saying those words, Sarah confirmed that her fears matched mine. A new face is fine, even a straight one, but when that face has a pair of eyes that are finding their way around the room, there's a very good possibility that those two eyes are going to fall upon someone who isn't out yet. Someone with a mean streak could easily use that as their ticket to blackmail gold, or worse, a wonderfully simple way to destroy some poor soul's social and home life. It's a scary thought.

"Max, don't panic. Maybe he's just here to hit on some lesbians."

Sarah walked away after giving me a gentle pat on the shoulder. It was about as reassuring as she had ever been. My brain took this as the perfect opportunity to freak out. My head was spinning, my pulse was quick, and I couldn't even be persuaded to dance by this deliciously cute guy who hit on me. I grabbed and quickly gulped down a cup of soda, flicking my eyes around the room, trying to follow Chris's every step.

I finally realized, a few minutes into my combined pout/glare session, that this was going nowhere. I sighed softly, turned around, and began a little meander over to the corner where I usually situate myself to oversee the whole place.

About halfway there, a paw suddenly grabbed my shoulder.

"Sarah, it's fine, I'm done pouting now."

And then came that damn chuckle. I spun around, whipping my tail behind me, ready to give this little fucker the sternest talking-to that he had ever experienced.

And then his muzzle touched mine.

My eyes closed. My paw worked its way up to the back of his neck, locking our muzzles together. I felt his paws wrap up over my shoulders and around my back. His tongue pushed past my lips, my free hand found its way down to his lower back, and I felt his hips press against mine.

The kiss ended as suddenly as it had begun. My eyes shot open, the warm reassurance of his muzzle against mine gone. He just looked at me with those half-closed brown eyes of his, that same confident grin sliding across his muzzle. I couldn't decide whether I wanted to slap that grin off his face, or tackle him to the ground and have my way with him. Perhaps a little bit of both.

"Well, that was cool."

Words failed me. His paw gently rubbed at my shoulder. I took a deep breath in, and hoped that my brain would soon recover from the state of utter shock it was in. After what felt like an eternity, I finally re-found my voice.

"I didn't know you were..."

"Yeah, I mean, I don't make a big deal of it. You know how the guys on the team would be."

"Oh."

"You're pretty cute when you're all flustered, you know?"

I couldn't help but blush and tuck my tail between my legs. As much as my brain wanted me to hate this jock who had previously ruined my evening, and who had now broken my brain, my instincts were kicking in, and there was little I could do in protest. He looked me square in the eyes, his grin getting a little wider.

"Follow me."

I was putty in his paws as he gently led me towards the gym's wide double-doors.

"I should... I should tell Sarah I'm stepping out."

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind you being gone for a moment."

His paw led me out of the spacious room before I could raise any more protest. He led me down a hallway, turning abruptly, opening a door, and ushering me in. It took a moment for my shell-shocked brain to realize where he had led me, and another moment beyond that to realize the one and only reason he had taken me here.

I was in the locker room. And he wanted to have sex with me. I pulled away from him, and he turned back to me.

"Chris, what were you bringing me here for?"

The grin quickly disappeared from his muzzle. He took a moment to respond.

"Well... I just..."

He looked down at the ground between his feet, his veneer of confidence having abruptly faded. My confidence suddenly returned, and all the pent-up frustration and worry about what Chris had been doing in my little world came out.

"You were taking me to have sex with you. You thought I'd be an easy lay, didn't you? Just another slut to get your rocks off with, and then walk away from when it would be most convenient?"

"No, I--"

"Then why were you taking me to the locker room? Why, in all of your effortless confidence, did you need to drag me away from everyone else?"

"I don't know."

He looked almost pitiful, having slumped against a nearby locker. He looked a lot less intimidating when he wasn't standing his straightest, and when that grin wasn't on his face. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, clearly collecting his thoughts, and turned to me. His eyes, no longer half-closed, told the whole story.

"Look, I'm not as good at this as you."

"As good at what? Being gay? It's kinda a thing you are or you aren't."

"Then how come you can step out there every Thursday night and lead your followers like Moses in the desert, and yet I walk in there, get weird glances from every guy around, and the only way I can get someone to actually talk to me is to go to you and kiss you?"

"Nobody knows you yet. For all we knew, you were just coming tonight so you could get some blackmail material for somebody you didn't like. Hell, I'm not convinced yet that that wasn't your plan all along."

"Why would I do that? I'm the one who has everything to lose!"

"Oh come on. You, having something to lose."

"I'd be the butt of every joke in the locker room before every game. My friends would suddenly be worried that I was hitting on them, and abandon me. My parents are crazy religious. Every Sunday, off to church. Dad keeps telling me to remember to do 'God's work'. I have a hell of a lot to lose."

His eyes were beginning to shimmer with the beginnings of tears.

"And now, for the first time in my life, when I finally thought that maybe I had gotten through to somebody, somebody attractive, and nice, and comfortable in their own skin, he tells me that he thinks I'm only coming to a gay event to blackmail somebody."

He turned around and walked down an aisle between two rows of lockers. I heard the rattle of something hitting one of the locker doors. I turned the corner after him, stopping as I saw him leaning his head against a locker door.

"Chris, I... I'm sorry. You just have to understand that I'm protective of my friends. Some of those people are right where you are. And I see you walking in, filled with confidence, and... I just made an assumption. I know it was wrong, but how was I to know?"

He sniffled against the brightly painted metal, his look becoming less emotive with every moment.

"It's not your fault. You should get back to everyone."

"I'm not going to leave you here like this."

He stood up straight and looked right at me, closing his eyes halfway, relaxing his shoulders back, and letting the grin come back to his muzzle.

"See, I'm fine. Go back."

I could see his tail nervously twitching between his legs.

"Chris, I didn't mean to be an ass. I'm sorry. At least let me be nice to you. It's the least I can do, considering the crap I put you through tonight."

He sat down on one of the hard wooden benches, his tail curling up beside him. As I began walking over towards him, he put his face in his paws and began to softly cry. I sat down next to him, wrapping one of my arms around his shoulders. He leaned into me, his soft fur rubbing against mine.

"I'm sorry I ruined your night, Max."

"You didn't ruin my night. I'm sorry I ruined yours."

"It's okay," he said, his voice muffled through his paws.

I stroked my paw up and down his back, feeling his breathing begin to slow, and his sobbing fade.

"You really thought I looked cute?"

He sprung upwards, pulling his paws from his face and looking me in the eyes.

"Of course I think you're cute! You're everything I've wanted to be! Confident, comfortable, relaxed, in-charge."

"I would say that you're all those things too, kitty. You and your friends practically run this school."

"That's all just put on though. It's what everyone wants me to be."

"You seem to enjoy it enough."

"Do I really look like someone who's happy with his life?"

On consideration of his current state, I supposed he didn't quite. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him into a hug. His arms found their way around my shoulders, and his muzzle tucked perfectly into my neck.

"Thank you."

His whispered words were almost so faint that I couldn't make them out, but the squeeze he gave my shoulders at the end of them told me I had heard correctly. He gently pulled away from me, looking a little less forlorn.

"I'd like to do something for you."

"Chris, you don't have to do anything for me."

"But I want to. I've screwed up everything else tonight. I at least want to do one thing right."

I sighed softly. For the umpteenth time this night, my better judgment told me that I shouldn't, but as I looked into his big, brown eyes, eyes which had clearly seen a much harder life than mine, I couldn't deny him this one request.

"Okay. I guess that's alright."

He didn't need any more convincing. Before I could even start to say anything more, he had leaned in and planted another intoxicatingly good kiss on my muzzle. His arms wrapped around me tightly, as I ran a paw through his headfur. He gently broke the kiss, swooping down effortlessly to kiss my neck. He was truly going to be a gifted lover, once he found himself a boyfriend.

One of his paws found its way to the base of my tail, scritching at it gently as he kissed his way down my shirt, working his way slowly and gently down my chest. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, letting out a low, almost inaudible moan. He clearly picked up on it, however, stroking at my tail with a new vigor.

His muzzle eventually made it to my belt, and his paw reluctantly gave up my tail. His paws quickly and simply undid my belt, unbuttoned my jeans, and unzipped the fly. As he pulled my jeans down slightly, he revealed my boxers, already showing a wet spot of pre at the tip of a rather large bulge. I blushed, and he looked up at me with a truly genuine smile.

I leaned down, pulling his muzzle up to mine with a paw, and locked lips with him again. I gently broke the kiss, and he returned dutifully to his work, sliding my boxers down a few inches, revealing my cock. He gazed at it for a few moments, as if admiring a beautiful yet strange piece of art, before gently wrapping one of his large paws around it.

I bucked my hips up at the touch. He looked up at me, smiling broadly, and began to stroke me up and down, his soft pawpads teasing every nerve. He leaned up and kissed me again, letting me slip my tongue into his hot muzzle. He continued to pleasure me, gently, softly, and with more care than I had ever seen him put into anything in his life.

He slid his body down again, bringing his nose to the tip of my cock, breathing in my vulpine musk. My paw gently stroked the back of his head as he reached out his tongue and gave me a soft lick. His tongue was like nothing I had ever experienced before. The gentle roughness of it was enough to make me thrust up towards his muzzle. He took one more deep breath of my musk, and slid my cock between his lips. The feeling was amazing - his hot muzzle enveloping my shaft, his tongue wrapping its way around it, and a gentle purr coming from deep in his throat vibrating my most sensitive parts.

He began to bob his muzzle up and down, encouraged by my own soft moans, and the paw I kept on the back of his head. I could feel him swallow, no doubt tasting my pre on his tongue. I closed my eyes, and just let myself enjoy the feeling.

His pace began to speed up as he felt my knot forming at the base of my shaft. His paw began softly stroking around my knot, gently exploring its shape. The soft touches teased me beyond belief, and I was soon thrusting my cock up into his muzzle, making hushed grunts and groans as his rough tongue slid over every sensitive inch of me. He finally squeezed his paw tight around my knot, feeling it swell within his grip. I bucked my hips up into his muzzle one final time, and let out a long, deep moan as I felt rope after rope of hot, sticky seed shoot into his muzzle.

I opened my eyes, panting softly, my body still recovering from what must have been the most incredible orgasm of my life. He slid his muzzle off of my cock gently, and sat up, bringing his nose to mine.

"Did I do a good job?"

He looked at me with those big brown eyes once more, a soft, genuine smile spread across his face, and the slightest hints of my seed at the corners of his muzzle. I could think of no way to possibly express in words how wonderful that had been, so I simply leaned in and pressed my nose to his.

After a few minutes of my afterglow gently fading, I realized that we must have been gone from the gym for close to half an hour. I remembered Sarah, and could instantly picture the rabbit pacing back and forth, ready to issue me the worthiest of tongue-lashings.

"We should probably go back. Sarah's going to kill me."

His eyes looked down, almost as if he was ashamed.

"What we did tonight was wonderful, I hope we can do it again soon, Chris."

I pulled his muzzle back up with a finger, and leaned in for a quick kiss. As I pulled back, he stood up, and I followed. He turned to me, a content smile across his muzzle, and pulled out his phone.

"What's your number?"

We traded numbers, and I zipped up my jeans. I looked over at him, only to catch the tail end of him half-closing his eyes, and putting that grin back onto his muzzle.

"You know how obnoxious you look when you do that, right?"

"Yeah, yeah I do."

"Just making sure."

We walked back into the gym, only to find that most of the furs had already headed for home. Chris said goodbye to me in his now obviously put-on nonchalant manner, and headed for the door.

I turned around and my vision immediately filled with one pissed-off lesbian rabbit.

"YOU FUCKED HIM!"

"Sarah, calm down."

"YOU TOTALLY FUCKED HIM!"

"Sarah, if you don't calm down, I won't tell you details."

Sarah huffed, crossed her arms across her chest, and then glared at me.

"Fine. But you owe me dinner or something. I had to put up with so much crap while you were gone."

"Deal."

She turned around and walked over to the snack table, and began to pack up what was left after the evening's grazing.

I slid my paw into my pocket, pulling out my phone. As I did, it buzzed with a text message.

"U free tuesday?"

---

Hope you enjoyed it! If you did, leave a comment. Comments and favs were what inspired me to keep writing this stuff, so keep them coming if you like what you're reading.