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Soren pulled up in his small car, letting the compact blue sedan coast into the parking spot. The broad shouldered tamaskan flicked the parking break and stood out of his car, casting a long shadow that was the same murky color as his blue merle fur. He flicked his tall pointed ears in irritation, trying to get his hair out of his eyes. "I really need a haircut," he muttered to himself. He cast bright blue eyes around, quickly locating the back entrance of the modest gallery affectionately called Droplets. His fur glistened in the late summer sun as his long tail swished behind him. Some days Soren actually disliked how distinctive he looked. It made all the girls hit on him, and he didn't like having to make excuses all the time. Maybe if he got his clothes one size smaller, and perhaps add more pink to his wardrobe. But Soren was never a fan of dressing fancy or effeminate. Such affectations could be dangerous these days.

Droplets was bustling. A low buzz of foppish and snobby people were all in flutter over the paintings on the walls. Not that Soren minded those people, as they generally payed well. Eli sure as hell needed to be paid well. The good news was that the place looked pretty busy for such a small venue. Soren didn't fancy his friend becoming a starving artist one year out of college. How cliché. But some success would also mean Eli's hard-ass dad might get off his back. That austere Serval seemed to take it as a personal insult that his son wasn't going to go into law school like he wanted, but Eli wasn't the type to be stuck in an office all day.

Soren's whole body tensed up as he was grabbed from behind and pulled into a one-armed hug. "Good to see you," said a familiar, slightly melodic voice.

"You know I hate it when you do that," grumbled Soren. "It makes my fur stand on end."

"Sorry," smiled Eli. "Not that it would matter to me. You came at the right time though. All the boring stuff out of the way. All the bidding is done, I gave my half-assed speech, I've chatted up my guests, and the curator here, Lisa, can take care of closing. All I need is a ride."

"I am your chauffeur tonight, as per usual," said Soren, lips twitching at the corners of his mouth.

"Guess what," said Eli, long tail swishing side to side. It was clear the feline was holding onto a bombshell he was itching to drop.

"...what," replied Soren, slightly bemused.

"Guess how much Afterimage sold for," said Eli. His face tried to remain neutral, but his green eyes sparkled with excitement.

"Wait," said Soren, "Wasn't that the abstract piece you thought was crap?"

"Yup," nodded Eli.

"I dunno," said Soren, evasively, not wanting to hurt his feelings by underestimating. "a couple hundred?"

"Nope," said Eli, happily. "Nearly six thousand! There was a bidding war!"

"You're shitting me," cried Soren.

"it was the highest paid piece sold off tonight, and Galexia and Vermillion went for nearly three thousand apiece as well!"

Soren hugged Eli, wrapping his arms tightly around his slim frame. "Damn," he said, "the people here have bad taste. You hated all three of those paintings. Still, how's that for a debut, eh? We need to celebrate this."

Eli smiled, "Wanna just go down to the Brass Lady, you know, Wynne's place? I don't want anything fancy."

"My car's out back," said Soren, jangling his keys. "Meet you there." Soren dawdled a bit, looking at the dreamscapes and abstracts that were beautifully weaved together by Eli's brush and pen, all selling (to his surprise) for more than two thousand dollars each, some even topping fivet thousand. The artist in him was envious of Eli. Part of him wondered if he'd have been more successful as a musician rather than a scientist, but he felt like he was in too far at Luscus now to change paths. A nagging voice in the back of the tamaskan's head kept him from focusing entirely on the paintings in front of him. "I shouldn't have hugged him like that. That was too intimate for just friends."

Soren walked out of the gallery to see Eli leaning on the hood of his little car, his suit jacket, tie, and dress shirt folder over his arms. The chromatic shades of the setting sun intensified the deep auburn of his fur. The way the somali-serval's flicking tail cast shadows over his glowing fur made the feline look as though he were made of fire. His thin arms were bare, and all the Fox had on now was his black dress slacks and a black tank top.

"You mind if I put these in your car," asked Eli, smiling and gesturing at this clothes, "I can't stand wearing stuff like this. It's too stifling."

"Sure," replied Soren, popping the trunk with his keys. "Get in. we'll be at Wynne's in a moment."

It took the two furs less than fifteen minutes to get to the little tavern. The ride felt longer to Soren. Eli's excitement of his smash-hit show was palpable, manifesting in little tics and spastic finger drumming. Despite this, the canine could tell that even now the degree of Eli's success hadn't really sunk in. They slipped inside and seated themselves at a small table close to the music. It was fairly empty for a Friday night. A short lioness with a kind face brought them the first round without even asking what they wanted.

"Strawberry daiquiri and south pacific sangria," said Wynne, the bartender, sliding two glasses slick with perspiration across the dark maple table with a flourish. "And let me guess, buffalo chicken wrap and a Hawaiian BBQ pulled pork... and sweet potato fries."

"Wow," said Soren, smiling but his voice layered with sarcasm, "it's like you read our minds."

"It also helps that you both come here at least once a week," smiled the lioness. "the food will be right out."

"She's right," said Eli. "we do end up here a lot. We've been going here since my freshman year."

"it also helps that this po-dunk town has only two other places to eat," said Soren, but he wasn't complaining. The tiny Kansas town of Cavalier wasn't much to sneeze at, but the rent was cheap, the art college was a mile away, so friends were close by, and the lab he worked at wasn't too far of a drive.

For a moment they simply sat in silence, sipping on their sweet cocktails. "So this is it," smiled Soren. "Your big break, huh? How does it feel?"

"I don't want to get too excited just yet," said Eli as he sucked on his lime garnish. "This could just be lightning in a bottle."

"Normally I'm the one who's all doom and gloom," chuckled the canine. "Why don't we enjoy your success tonight. Here's to a good show." They raised their glasses together, clinking them merrily before taking a deep draught. They sat for a moment more before Soren stoop up, heading for the restrooms. Two females, a cockatoo and macaw, both with brilliant plumage that lit up the dark bar, sat gossiping at a booth.

"Check out that one over there," giggled the macaw. "That feline is drop-dead gorgeous."

"Are you completely oblivious Anne," groaned the other avian. "Or do you just have no gaydar at all? He came in with another male, anyway." The two birds caught Soren's eye has he passed their booth. They smiled mischievously as they appraised him.

"You're not bad either," smiled the one called Anne, a sensual trill to her voice.

Soren shook his head to clear it. He was afraid he looked like he was eavesdropping. The canine gave a slight smile, mumbling. "sorry ladies. Not tonight."

Soren stared at his reflection as he washed his hands. "Get a hold of yourself," he thought. "you cannot act so impulsively on gossip." But still, he couldn't get it out of his head. But he couldn't. He was just projecting. Sure, Eli was kinda swishy and on the effeminate side, but Soren knew a bull and a rhino, both rugby jocks. No one would've ever guessed they were dating just by looking at them. It wouldn't work even if he wasn't being hopelessly optimistic about his chances. Why would someone as graceful and beautiful as Eli go for a schluby, downtrodden burnout like him?

But still, if he didn't know any better, he swore that Eli was flirting with him. Slight winks, flips of the hair, and he normally didn't wear such skimpy shirts, but he swore he was trying to show off a bit in that tank, letting his chest tuft overflow out of the top and drawing attention to his tough and slender arms. The canine did his best to not stare. Eli was his friend, not a piece of meat.

The food came quicker than expected, but Soren had a feeling that Wynne moved them up in the queue for being regulars. Soren bit into his sandwich, savoring the pineapple salsa mixed into the stringy, sweet bbq pork. While he was chewing, he looked at Eli again. Perhaps his guess was correct. He was definitely showing off those arms of his. Tastefully shaggy, Soren would have called them. And really well toned. Eli did take time to look good.

The night went by rather fast. Eli was someone that Soren could talk with for hours. Their interests overlapped in just the right way so that their conversations were always engaging while their exposure and knowledge pool didn't completely overlap. They'd been ordering a lot too. Soren couldn't remember if he was on his third or his fourth glass of sangria. Or was it his fifth? And as the drinks came, he could definitely tell. Eli was acting rather intimate. He hugged him more than three times, and he kept squeezing his forearm and winking at him, tossing his semi-long hair out of his green eyes with a flick of his head.

Near midnight, Eli yawned widely. "It's been a long day. I'd like to turn in soon." as he stood from the table, he staggered. Soren got to his feet too, but he could tell neither of them were fit to drive. He wasn't seeing double yet, and his walk was no steadier than Eli's. He dug his keys out of his pocket.

"Wynne, be a dear and drive my car to your place tonight," said the tamaskan, passing his keys to. "Neither of us will be driving tonight. My place is only about three miles from here anyway."

"Sure thing. Do you want me to call you a cab?" smiled Wynne. She lived so close to the Brass Lady that she walked to get to her bar. Soren declined her offer with a wave of his hand. "Get home safe, then. And you should hurry. It might rain tonight."

The two males walked together, a slight stagger to their steps, Eli put his arm around Soren, steadying himself, and smiling, a tad blearily. Soren had to admit to himself that he was enjoying the physical contact between them, but he shook himself a bit. "Don't make a move off of gossip," he repeated to himself. "Don't cross a line like that so rashly. It could completely ruin your friendship. You're just projecting because you're sad and alone and desperate."

Soren could have walked home from the Brass Lady in less than thirty minutes, but the two males took much longer at their befuddled pace. It didn't feel too long though, as they were having a good chat about music. Eli had spent the last thirty minutes squeeing about an electroswing artist called Jem Stone. Soren was glad that they got to his place now, as there was a rumble of thunder in the not-quite-so-distance.

Soren reached for his keys as they approached his little town home. He swore.

"Lemme guess," said Eli, a slight stumble to his words. "you gave all your keys to Wynne. Including the house key."

"Yeah," spat Soren, irritated with himself for such an obvious screw up. "And I don't keep a key under the mat. We need to go back and get my keys."

"C'mon," said Eli. "We can crash at my place instead. It's less than a mile from here. The Brass Lady is gonna close in a few minutes. Wynne will be home in bed before we get back."

A crack of thunder made both males jump as they began to make their way towards Eli's place. Not long after, rain started falling in thick sheets. It didn't take long for both of them to be soaked to the skin. Soren had a hard time seeing through the thick sheets of rain, but the alcohol in his system didn't help either. He hadn't had this much to drink in a long time. It took the pair nearly an hour to get to Eli's back door. The serval fumbled with his keys but managed to let them both in. Soren stood on the tile threshold, letting himself drip off as Eli returned with some towels.

"The Killers OK," queried Eli as he threw his iPhone on the dock.

Soren nodded. As they tried to get themselves to a state that resembled dry, Eli went and poured them two tall glasses of ice water. "Here," he said, putting a glass in Soren's hand. "drink up, or you'll regret waking up tomorrow."

Still dripping a bit, they sat down at Eli's little kitchen table, drinking and refilling their glasses, and continuing their chat about music. Eli got up a few minutes later. "I'll go get some blankets so you can crash on the couch."

"W-Wait," stammered Soren, getting up without thinking. There was a long silence. What was he doing right now?! "uh... before you go..." There was a pause as Soren attempted to string words together. Eli stood there, his hand on the back of his head, slightly awkwardly. They both took a step closer to each other.

"You ok, Soren?"

The tamaskan moved as though in a dream. He also wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or just reckless desire. He raised his hand to cup Eli's cheek, and then he found his muzzle met with the serval's. The kiss was pure bliss, the kind of kiss where the world seems to stop turning. After the longest second of the tamaskan's life, he forced himself to break away.

"Shit," swore Soren, more to himself than to Eli, staring at the floor, one arm scratching the back of his head out of anxiety and embarrassment. He was horrified by Eli's expression. He looked dumbstruck and he was holding a hand to where he had been kissed, slightly tracing his thin black lips, looking confused. "I-I-I shouldn't have done that. That completely crossed a line." More words were being said, but they were largely incoherent. Soren was too busy beating himself up inside his head to sufficiently apologize.

Then he looked up at Eli again. He was grinning. And then Eli dived at Soren. Each kiss was rapturous, and also very delicious. He could taste the strawberry and rum on Eli's breath and mouth as he kissed him, and hoped that Eli liked pineapples. Soren felt Eli's arms tug around his own shoulders, and they clutched their still-damp bodies against each other.

Soren slowly moved his hands from Eli's shoulders to his face, feeling the sharp angles of the others face, and how Eli tilted his head up with each kiss to make up for being a few inches shorter than him. The tamaskan ran his fingers through Eli's semi-long hair that drooped over his emerald eyes, across the damp fur on his cheeks, tracing his pointed yet ears, still never missing a kiss as he held serval's face.

Soren tensed up a bit as he felt Eli's hands, slender and gentle, slowly tracing his spine. They worked their way down to the hem of his soaked polo. Soft, damp hands dug into the fur on the canine's back. They slowly began to work their way back up, bringing the shirt with it. Eli broke away from Soren's hands and kiss, and smiled mischievously as he coaxed the shirt past Soren's head.

The canine then reciprocated, rolling the black tank top off of Eli's soaked chest. Soren admired Eli's gorgeous body. His reddish pelt glowed like a dying ember in the dark apartment. He had slender, toned chest, and a tuft of soft fur in the center of his chest. Soren felt downright chubby by comparison. When he got the garment off, Eli's smile was even wider. Soren felt Eli slowly steering them towards the back of the apartment.

The last vestiges of Soren's rationality tugged at his thoughts. "This must be a dream," He thought. But Eli's slender fingers felt so real as they dug into his fur. And how could he imagine the fruity taste of their one-too-many drinks on their lips? And the clink of metal that announced their belts hitting the floor was certainly real.

The tamaskan beheld Eli's naked body on a messy bed. The feminine feline was captivating, the curves of his body calling out like a siren's song. Soren leaned over the other male's body, steadying himself by grabbing Eli firmly by the waist. Eli squirmed under the canine's grip, his tail curling between his legs. The cat clearly didn't mind a more aggressive approach. Soren began bump and grind their bodies together as he resumed kissing at the cat's chest. The scent and taste of Eli's fur was as unique as it was enticing: it was faintly sweet yet tinged with the salty-spicy tang of a muted but masculine musk.

By now the two males were utterly lost in a dreamscape of lust and alcohol. The residual booze in their system inhibited their ability to get it up, but Soren used that as an excuse to explore every inch of Eli's body. His hands and lips traveled over every curve, every faintly etched line, every strand of soft fur, doing his best to pay attention to how the feline responded.

After several minutes of kissing and groping, Eli's member emerged from its sheath. The feline was well endowed, which juxtaposed his otherwise feminine physique. Soren took it in his mouth without hesitation. He ran his tongue along the shaft, feeling the small barbs tickle his mouth as he tasted the other male. Soren made sure every inch of Eli was warm and wet from his muzzle. Thanks to their numerous drinks, it took a long time for Eli to reach full hardness, but the canine didn't mind the opportunity to take his time. The feline's lithe body trembled under Soren's lips, and the tamaskan dug his fingers into the other's fur, bracing themselves against the bed as Eli gasped and moaned into his pillows.

Soren felt the feline approach his climax. His lips were wrapped around the top half of Eli's shaft. He could feel it throb, pushing back against his muzzle as he serviced. One of his hands gently ran up and down the length exposed to the air. The tamaskan increased the speed of his strokes as Eli moaned louder. His slender chest rose and fell faster and faster, his back arched, and his fingers dug tracks in the sheets. Soren himself shuddered as Eli's long tail flicked frantically, brushing against the canine's erection. The tamaskan was unsure if the action was deliberate, but it intensified the excitement the canine always felt when giving head.

After what felt like blissful minutes, Eli thrust his hips once. Soren's lips kissed the serval's pelvis as the first spurt of hot seed filled his mouth. The taste was a pleasing, a mix of musk and salt tinged with sweetness. The canine swallowed and let Eli's member flop against his belly with a heavy, wet slap. He marveled again at how such a feminine male carried such a hefty organ.

Soren's own erection throbbed, as if chastising him for neglecting his own pleasure. He looked up, drinking in the serval's body until he locked eyes with Eli. His hair was tangled, no longer smoothly falling over his eyes. He was smiling hazily, caught between the buzz of the liquor and his afterglow, but his emerald eyes had an inviting gleam to them. A slim, spotted finger beckoned the tamaskan, who took the invitation eagerly. He pressed his lips against the feline's body, kissing his way up from hips to belly, chest to shoulders, neck to his sweet, black lips. Eli's tongue pressed into Soren's maw.

The two males grabbed at each other again, grappling on the bed as their muzzles remained locked. Eli's hands ran up and down Soren's back, while the canine cupped his lover's face. They ground their hips together. Soren felt Eli's semi-hard member rub against the valley where the two bulbs of his knot met, making the canine's tail quiver. Even as Soren ran his tongue against the inside of Eli's muzzle, he waited for Eli's sign he wanted more. It was only after several hot and heavy minutes that a cool, metallic tube was pressed into Soren's hands.

The canine finally broke from Eli's muzzle as he accepted the can of lubricant. He covered his fingers with the cool, slick substance before pressing them against the ring of Eli's tailhole. He traced the rim of his entrance before slowly sliding inside of the serval, knuckle by knuckle. The other hand ran up his lithe midriff. Soren felt the other male tremble under his fingers, tail twitching erratically as the tamaskan slid past the second knuckle.

Soren continued his ministrations until he felt no friction. He withdrew his fingers and ran his hands down to Eli's knees, slowly lifting them skywards as leaned to press their chests together. But it was Eli who grasped Soren's face in his slim fingers, pulling them together and whispering in the other's ear. "I want you tonight... I want all of you, Soren." The words were soft, slow, and sensual, as if they drifted from his mouth. Their muzzles met again as the tamaskan pressed his tip into Eli's warm, wet entrance.

The acts of foreplay and of pleasuring Eli left the tamaskan's body itching with anticipation. His length throbbed as it was wrapped by the serval's entrance, the sensation amplified by expert clenching. His knot had fully formed long before Soren had finished with his muzzle, and the tamaskan rolled his hips, teasing the tie that was to come. He pressed his face into Eli's collarbones, kissing and nipping around the feline's slender shoulders as he began a slow, measured pace.

The heavy slap of Soren's knot against Eli's body was soon drowned out by the two male's huffs and gasps. Each thrust seemed to cause their breaths to grow so heavy they couldn't continue their kisses. Sorer dug his fingers into Eli's velvety chest tuft, feeling how the feline's heartbeats and breathing slowly matched each other. Meanwhile the serval's hands and feet entwined around Soren's arched back, beckoning their bodies to become one.

The tamaskan increased his pace, progressing to a raw, almost savage pace. Each impact of Soren's hips shook the feline on his creaky bed, and Eli had to brace himself by grasping the headboard. Eli's gasps were punctuated by moans growing ever louder. Soren's knot throbbed, but the night's indulgences were inhibiting him from reaching a full climax, no matter how hard he ravished the beautiful male beneath him.

But as their carnal act continued, words escaped from Eli's muzzle, now husky with lust. "More, Soren! Take me! Make me yours!" It was the aura of primal pleasure emanating from the feline that inspired Soren to press his knot against Eli's tailhole. He pressed it inside until his full ten inches was enveloped by a warm tunnel and joined their bodies tail to hip. The canine felt his knot throb and swell inside Eli's gorgeous body as hot seed rushed forth. Eli's back arched skyward, accentuating every curve and line on his lithe body as he moaned his loudest. The warm stickiness that covered both of their chests told Soren that he'd brought the serval to his second orgasm of the night.

As his peak subsided, Soren's limbs failed him, and he flopped heavily onto Eli's chest. The tamaskan quickly pulled the two males onto their sides, feeling self-conscious about their differences in weight and afraid to smother the other male. His knot was still inside Eli, occasionally throbbing as the feline continued to squeeze his body around it. The serval was smiling playfully as they gazed into each others eyes. Soren found Eli's emerald green eyes entrancing, and they seemed to glow in the dark bedroom, but the tamaskan's gaze was drawn most to the sweet, slender, black lips that he'd recently grown so acquainted with. Suddenly, Eli leaned in for another kiss, as if he knew what the other male had been thinking about.

Soren shifted themselves on the bed again and ran a hand over Eli's sloping waist and hips. "A-are you comfortable," stuttered the canine, suddenly self-conscious after their act was completed.

Eli smiled as his hands caressed Soren's pointed muzzle. He wriggled his rump again, clearly intent on teasing the canine's member to stop the knot from going down. "Very. I seem to be stuck on you though... not that I mind," giggled Eli. "You were really... good." Eli's sentences had returned to their sensual drawl, slightly slurred by the haze of alcohol and afterglow. His brilliant eyes drooped, and the feline nestled his cheek firmly against Soren's shoulders.

Soren found himself locked in the embrace of the other male. His nose was pressed into Eli's hair, and it's naturally sweet scent was laced with the sweat and musk of sex. The tamaskan couldn't resist kissing the top of the serval's head, but as Eli's breathing slowed, Soren resisted the urge, not wanting to disturb him. The whole encounter felt surreal to the canine. This was Eli in his arms. This was Eli in his arms. His good friend, now a wildly successful art sensation, and his only confidant in this midwest wasteland. It was Eli whom he tasted on his own tongue, and it was Eli that he was tied with. This had to be a dream, but even if it was, it had been the best dream Soren had dreamed in a while.

A single ray of sunlight woke up Soren as it slipped through the blinds and onto his face. He didn't open his eyes, shutting them tighter as the light slipped through his slightly cracked eyelids. "I'm in my bed at home," he thought. "it was just a childish dream. I am on favorite pillow right now, it's nice, and warm, and soft, and... breathing?" Soren sat bolt upright in the bed, flinging away the hand that was resting on his shoulder as he did so.

Eli stretched and yawned, but his eyes glimmered with an attentiveness that implied he'd been awake for a while. "And good morning to you too, babydoll." The otherwise childish pet name made Soren blush in a mix of embarrassment, yet also pleasure. A tinge of trepidation entered the feline's voice as he tentatively held Soren's hand. "Is everything allright, Soren?"

"...So it wasn't a dream..." whispered Soren, more to himself than anything. He looked at the clock out of awkwardness, but he didn't stop holding Eli's hand. It was after one o'clock in the afternoon.

Eli sat up a bit. "is that... a bad thing," he asked, his voice quavering with something like hope.

Soren responded with a muzzle locking kiss, and both men fell back to the bed. After an age and a half, they broke apart. "No," was all Soren said before moving back and laying his cheek back on Eli's soft chest tuft, his hand resting on the serval's soft-furred, sharp-angled face, the other arm around his shoulders. Eli locked Soren in a tight embrace, strong enough that it almost hurt. And they lay there together, neither feeling any urge to move. As much as Soren enjoyed the sex of the previous night, it was this closeness, this embrace, that brought the tamaskan the most pleasure.

After a while, Soren broke the silence, gazing into Eli's beautiful face. "Eli... can I see you again, sometime?" Despite the intimacy of the situation, he felt awkward, like an intruder into this personal moment in Eli's life where he did not belong.

A wry half-smile broke Eli's muzzle. "Soren, we see each other all the time."

"You know what I mean, Eli," said Soren, his face falling a little. This was too much to hope for. "Can I... Can I take you to dinner, maybe? Or see a play together... or-"

Eli cut the canine off, placing a finger over his lips. "Soren... I think you'd make a wonderful boyfriend, if that's what you want."

Soren smiled, nuzzling Eli. The heady scent of their bodies still lingered from the previous night. It was an enticing aroma. "Can I make you some breakfast, Eli?"

"That sounds nice," mumbled the feline, happily returning Soren's affections in kind. "I should probably shower first. I bet I smell scuzzy." They sat up together, even as Eli rested his head on Soren's shoulder.

As the feline left the bed, he stretched ostentatiously, arching his back and curling his tail as laced his fingers behind his head. Soren couldn't help but watch, entranced as if he was witnessing a work of art. Eli winked playfully, clearly pleased at how spellbound Soren was. "I'd offer for you to join me, but my shower is cramped when I'm by myself." His hips swayed alluringly as the feline left for the bathroom, continuing to show off for Soren. He turned around and beamed back at the tamaskan. "I'll see you soon, sweetie."

The use of another pet name made Soren glow again. He could feel the white fur around his muzzle glowing red, and his heart fluttered. He felt like he had, once long ago when he was still in high school. He gazed at the closed door, filled with a sudden longing to barge in and bring Eli back into his arms again. He instead sat, feeling where his fur was ruffled by Eli's cheek resting against him in the night. Oddly enough, his muzzle felt... off... stiff, almost. But then again, it had been a long time since he'd smiled this much.