Wonderful Tonight
#46 of Hockey Hunk Season 5
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Hello, and welcome to the Hockey Hunk!
It's Friday again, and I present to you the Friday chapter - and extra long tonight, too, just because.
I hope you'll enjoy reading this, and I look forward to your feedback! Also remember that all votes, fave and watches will help others to find these stories to enjoy as well, so remember that it all counts!
Now, have a fun read!
*
I bounced onto my pleasantly bare footpaws when the door intercom finally buzzed. My tail flapped behind me as I took the few strides needed to get to the panel and hit the button.
"Hello?" I asked, trying not to sound too excited.
"Let me in?" came his voice through the little panel.
"Sure, sure!" I hit the buzzer. "See you in a bit."
I released the button and did some further bouncing about. My visual sweep told me that the apartment was as neat as it could be. There was no trash lying about, no clothes strewn on the floor, the sheets were new, the pillows had been fluffed, I was fresh after a post-work shower and in good spirits and feeling excited...yes...in all the right ways. There was life in the boxers of Rory Gliese...hopeful life, now that we were finally beyond this stupid thing, I hoped. A week had passed and a phone call had dispelled further worries. Ugly words like syphilis and hepatitis were but a bad memory, as unpleasant as the needleprick that had been required to obtain the blood from my arm to make sure that I did not carry any of those horrible things. I was a good boy now. I was healthy.
I might have a chance of getting into Victor's pants, and I knew from...from a certain edge in his voice that he would be looking to do it, too. We hadn't really spoken about it but...but...our mutual assurances during our chats over the week were...just that. Assuring and assertive. A nice combination.
What a weird week it had been, anyway. Work was mad with so much stuff to do with this so-called training Marge insisted I was on, which she decided meant I should do the paperwork with her assistance, which had been...interesting, but at least she'd been relatively patient with me when she wasn't feeling like she was going to spill a plateful of Goggy into the toilet every 15 minutes. Sheesh, girls...oh well, I could deal with that. Work was alright. I'd even managed to chat with Mason without averting my eyes and wondering if he'd heard me talking about buttsex on the phone. There was nothing new about his behavior...still sneaking around with his headphones on, stil enthusiastic about lynxes, still muttering German phrases under his breath. I even asked him if he was on a language course and he just kinda muttered something and almost blushed...or so I thought. Maybe it was a secret thing he and Haakon did...it could've as well been Norwegian he was speaking under his breath, at least when I walked up to him while he was stocking the shelves and he didn't realize I was coming. He'd jumped and almost smacked my balls with his tail when he finally saw me there...
Ouch. Glad he landed on my thigh instead, and I gave him an awkward smile instead of an "UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMHPH!!!!"
Oh well.
That was fine.
Work was alright.
The same as always, but alright.
Victor...well, we were alright, I guess. Busy with work, and in Victor's case, trying to make sure that Cobb wouldn't go completely out of control with his big plans for some kind of an "occasion" he was planning to hold to cheer up his friend Tate, the one who had wanted Jacob Holden to be the Jack to his Ennis, I guess. The idea was oddly intriguing as it was hilarious...that is, Victor's painfully heterosexual brother getting...a fox of all furs, too. Perhaps it was cosmic fate, that. Somehow it wasn't hard to imagine that the brothers Holden had been eye catchers even when they were kids at high school...probably oozing with testosterone and muscles and providing quite the treat for any closeted boys. I'd ogled my share of the jocks in my time, I knew how it went...who was I going to blame? Poor guy Tate, though...but a little part of me was glad that at least it wasn't...that it wasn't Victor.
Yeah....I wasn't sure I'd be ready to deal with another bout of mostly inconsequential jealously in such a short period of time. My twinge of jealousy over Peter's surprise romp with Nicholas Gaye had left me feeling guilty enough. I had a Victor now, and Peter...Peter was Peter, and we'd always been...well...understanding of each other, that while we piqued each other (with variable intensity over the years), there was always the knowledge that we were not destined to be...it...whatever that famous thing was that created couples that lasted forever. I was sure that I'd never lose the ability to peck his forehead and tell him that I loved him but...guh...we always did it alright. Of course he'd never been alone like this, and not sad like this before, and...Nicholas...no matter what you can say about him, and who he is...even Peter had...almost uttered the word "desperate" in conjunction with his description of the circumstances that had led to their tryst.
Ugh...I didn't really want to think about that too much. I had a Victor coming up the stairs, and at any moment I'd be enclosed in warm hockey hunk arms and kissed and rumbled at and maybe he'd sniff my mane or play with it, and I could cop a feel of his butt and...
Yeah, I quickly huffed into my paw and sniffed the residue to make sure my muzzle didn't stink, and deemed it was alright, and paced around the kitchen again, and stretched, tail included, and hoped that Victor would be in a good mood. Surely getting a clean bill of health on a comprehensive STD panel was something...the knowledge we hadn't accidentally hurt one another when things went awry with the prophylactics. I had prepared for that too with a quick trip to the pharmacy section during my latest supermarket visit, too, by the purchase of a brand new packet of Ursoplus Catnip Contour Extra Fit Feline condoms as well as a packet of Ursoplus Feelgood Hound Extra Safe Reservoirs with a suggestive picture of a hunky Great Dane on the printed picture on the top which I presumed would call both guys and girls to do the deed with him. Armed with these and lube...all stashed modestly into a box under the bed, because I wasn't sure Victor would appreciate being presented with the sight of an anal sex repertoire all over the bedspread, for example, and...well...maybe it'd be nice to set a bit of a mood...maybe romantic...we could chat and drink coffee or soda and maybe just cuddle...celebrate youth and happiness and...well...
There was a knock on the door, and Rory Junior gave an appreciate twitch against my boxers as I shuffled quickly over to the door to release the logs and let the dogs in.
Wuff, wuff, wuff-wu-wuff...
Ahem...sorry.
There was a lot of scent, and there was a lot of Victor, filling in my very small entry space -
...okay, yeah, well, we had to get further in, soon, because I was paws-on and there wasn't really much room there to do any of that cuddling I had hoped to kick things off with, but I managed to kick the door shut and drag him into the room and pull him into a hug and press my muzzle onto his chest while his paws held onto me and I breathed in his scent.
This was nice. This was what was meant to be good now. And it was. Doberman musk, shampoo, man...Victor....paws under my mane like I had hoped...a peck...a proper kiss, too...my tail doing a whole recital of a prime number behind me, likely, while we kept it up, with lots of body contact.
"Well hello," I managed to speak rather breathily after a minute or so.
Victor gave me a smile that seemed somewhat tired, but it was there. He patted my back and my shoulders, rubbed them a bit, and I rumbled, and smiled, too.
"Hello."
What a difference does a week make...so much time to think and feel and worry and wonder. Now we were here and...and it was alright.
"Long day?" I asked.
"Extremely, he said, "I hope you don't have any highlight pens here. I ha to look through about two dozen different ones and I got a headache from the fumes."
I snuffled at the idea, and he was smiling too, looking down to me from his bit of a height difference, through his cute glasses.
"None," I promised solemnly, "at least nowhere in sight. I've cleaned."
I removed a paw briefly from his hip to gesticulate at the apartment before I put the paw quickly back there, and gave his muscled hip an appreciative squeeze. He rumbled a bit, and smiled, and flicked his tall, uninjured ear in approval.
"It's nice," he said," nice and peaceful."
I smiled a bit tentatively.
"Your brother still running the show at home?" I asked.
Victor shook his head.
"I don't know where he gets the energy...or the ideas," he rumbled," he wakes up at six to do stuff...browse the internet for more ideas, or try a recipe or work out, whatever reason that is, but I've heard him going at the exercise bike..."
I raised my brow.
"You've got an exercise bike?"
Victor chuckled.
"Well that spare room is meant to be kind of a home gym when it's not a guest room...yeah...I've got a bike there."
I wondered if it was there because he genuinely wanted it to not be an eyesore in the rest of the place or whether it'd been bought with good intentions but then stashed away once the interest waned, but I decided to spare that quip for a suitable occasion...maybe while complimenting Victor's thighs for their solid beefiness.
"Nice," I smiled instead.
"I think I've managed to shoot down most of the worst ideas...," he said, "he almost relocated the party to some spa in downtown...."
I snuffled, and wanted to kick myself for the idea of a bathrobe-clad Victor with cucumber slices over his eyes.
"Not a good idea, I suspect, considering the guest list," I rumbled, "It was hard enough to convince Peter to come. Do you think your friend Tate would've come?"
Victor grimaced.
"I think the guy has problems with every place, let alone some place where you're expected to strip down or something," he replied, carrying on our in-cuddle talk.
Well, while stripping down sounded like an excellent idea, I had to admit...yes...he had a point.
"I know," I said, "hence why I'm glad it's held at your place. At least Peter has been there before and didn't bleach out his fur afterwards."
As far as I know, but that was also true. He'd also agreed to coming to the party after only a little bit of convincing...relatively speaking...
...
...
"Dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun duuuun duuun duuun dun dun duuunuuun..." Peter was singing something that vaguely sounded like the theme tune of the show by the time I returned to the living room.
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"Well...that was something," I said.
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Peter rumbled and studied my approach with keen eyes.
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"You don't look freaked out enough for that call to have been about a false negative..." he stated.
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"That's not funny," I complained.
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"I know. "my cougar concluded. "I just watched a moment of awkward bickering about Lady Mary's rights to using her vagina for recreational purposes, I'm allowed to be catty."
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"Peter..." I gave him a fait warning, I thought.
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"Rowreeh..." he answered sweetly.
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"Well aren't you sweet..." I said as much.
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"Sweet as the Dowager's tea, I assure you. With a hint of lemon and a lot of acerbic wit on top."
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I failed to see how that was sweet, and I couldn't remember if the Dowager was the really old lady dressed like a Harry Potter character or the one who was apparently called "Cousin Isabella".
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"Humph," I commented.
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"So? If it wasn't the clap, what is it?" Peter asked in his inimitable style.
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"Well...uh...well..." I tried.
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"Is it crabs?"
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Oh for the love of...
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"Oh give up, Peter!" I exclaimed.
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"Good," he mused, " I don't have to fumigate the place, then, or burn the sheets."
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"Harrumph," my tail twitched as I looked at him, "Can I sit down?"
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"Please! Your water is still there by the lamp," he pointed out the bottle.
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"Thanks," I mumbled, settling onto the couch.
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"So?" Peter raised his brow once I was settled. " Do I have to pout to hear what it is that made you have that face again?"
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"What face?" I asked.
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"Just that one, that...that when you look like you swallowed a jalapeno and keep thinking what the fuck you just did," he grinned.
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"Interestingly put," I said while trying to wipe any faces off my muzzle.
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"I have my moments," Peter leaned back on the couch, luxuriating a bit, like a proper cat." I'm also kinda bored after watching this for the third time now, so I wouldn't mind hearing the gossip."
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"Well..."I started, "it's...Cobb..."
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"That delightful brute!" Peter chuckled.
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Whut?
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"Yes...yeah...well..."
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"Don't scratch, you'll shed hair and skin all over the couch!" Peter chastised me quickly.
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"You've got it in a couch-sized condom and there's a dustbuster within my paw's reach, can I just for once indulge in my nervous tic?" I said without stopping my nervous scratching.
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"Well that's fair," Peter said. "This time."
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"Victor says that Cobb wants to hold a party for that guy Tate...you know...the kiss guy..."
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"The idea is forever etched in my memory," Peter replied.
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"Anyway...Cobb now wants Victor to invite every gay guy he knows in town, apparently, and I'm invited, of course, and so are you, and any gay guys we know who might come in. Preferably eligible bachelors, Victor said that Cobb said."
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Peter stared into the very air in front of him for a moment before he blinked, and his paw, despite his earlier remarks to me, went to scratch his arm.
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"So he turns the guy down and then tries to set up an orgy for him?"
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I cringed.
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"Don't...just don't go there," I sighed, my ears drooping while I found out that I was quite unable to stop scratching my neck while I wondered where this was going, "I'm just saying...that it's there."
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"What is?"
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"Well..." I waved my spare paw quickly between us, "You know...invitation..."
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"I want mine on paw-pressed lavender-coloured mulberry paper in Japanese calligraphy and with a sprinkling of rose water," he stated in a voice I suspected might've been an attempt at affecting the high tones of Nicholas Faye's manner of eloquence.
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I took my phone out of my pocket and offered it to him, well knowing he'd never touch such a filthy item, but it was still worth it.
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"Cobb's on speed dial," I said, "I'm sure he'll be delighted about the idea. I bet he'd buy it if you tell him that all invitations to all gay parties must be delivered like that."
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Peter gave my phone a poisonous look and I pocketed it quickly before he'd decide to spray one of his xenomorph-grade disinfectants onto it.
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"I'm sure. He seems a simple soul."
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I studied him carefully before I spoke again, unsure what he was thinking.
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"Do you want to come?" I asked. "I'm sure Cobb insists but...but we can try to resist..."
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"Hmmm...to watch your friend Jacob make a total ass of himself...and embarrass you and his brother and everyone else, multiple times..."
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"You don't have to come if - "
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He lifted a paw to silence me, and I did, swallowing it quickly.
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"As long as there's no excessive hugging and he won't try to pair me up with anyone."
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My ears drooped.
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"I fear that there might be a bit of both going on," I said, "with his fox friend and all seemingly in need of action..."
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Cobb couldn't be thinking that...right...he was just pulling on all strings...inviting furs of homosexual tendencies that he felt comfortable with...or at least he would act politely towards to, I hoped...that was surely why he'd invited Peter...knowing what kind of a life Peter led here, even if he only knew very few things...he might still get ideas. He might...make seating arrangements.
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"I am ready to face up to the challenge," Peter replied to me, sounding almost too casual.
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"Are you sure?" I heard myself asking before I managed.
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"I don't need to be chaperoned," he said, "I'm sad, not psychotic."
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Well he had a point...but the natural urge to fold my arms around him and shoo anyone else away was hard to resist, sometimes. Especially now, thinking how he'd let that other lion into that very same space and...and...presumably done...stuff.
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"Well I'll be there of course," I said.
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"As Victor's date," Peter noted, "a fact from which I'm sure Jacob will not let anyone to escape from."
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I...almost found my tongue slipping and telling him that maybe he should invite Nicholas along if he wanted a date for himself, but I kept it back. I almost had to bite on my tongue to do so. There was no point to get more upset about this. It was just something I couldn't help. Too much had happened...too many things...too many furs...events...too many tears, that I just couldn't stop caring.
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"Yeah," I nodded, resigned to my fate.
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"I shall manage, then," he said.
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"So you think you might come?" I asked, wondering just how big the guest list might actually already be.
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"I think I might," he replied. "Will you pass on the news or shall I do it myself? I do have Jacob's number."
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"I'm not sure if it's a good idea to call right away," I said, unable to stop myself from imagining Victor finishing up duct-taping Cobb into a chair in an attempt to stop him from stealing Victor's phone in the hopes of finding a list of gay guys there he could invite in behind poor Victor's back(side). "Things might be a bit tense there."
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"Do I presume correct that Victor doesn't like the idea?"
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"Maybe he's just thinking about how our last dinner party turned out," I stated, remembering well the copious amounts of food, embarrassing homophobic comments from Cobb, and Ace Ventura.
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And that was before we almost died in a car crash, but that wasn't Cobb's fault.
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"He should relax a bit," Peter said, "not many guys would take all that effort to make furs uncomfortable by trying to make them comfortable_. Jacob seems like a good guy wanting to help his friend out like that."_
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I let out a nervous giggle.
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"How come you managed to describe the natural force that is Jacob Holden so perfectly with so few words?" I mused.
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"I did meet him," he said ominously, "he gave me a hug."
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"Will you forgive him?" I smiled.
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"Possibly...if the food is good, and won't make my stomach upset," he said, "my pills have been making it a bit uneasy recently."
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I frowned a little, as the hanging cloud of illness once again threatened to break into a shower above us...but I decided that I would not let it.
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"I'm sure he'll be trusted to make the blandest salad possible for the most sensitive of tummies," I smiled.
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"I am curious, though, I must admit," he said, "It's been so much fun hearing you rave on about him, it's about time I experienced a good dose of him when he's not hung over or drying tears from his big, soulful eyes."
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I snuffled.
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"Yeah."
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"Fancy another episode?"
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"I think I'll probably have to be getting home soon," I noted, knowing the time, "Work tomorrow."
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"Indeed," Peter rumbled.
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...
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...
I nuzzled Victor's neck and chin, quickly, muzzling my way towards his lips, still holding his hips in my paws. He was wearing nice pants...pants suitable to wear with a suit...though he was just wearing a comfortable shirt...I liked that...two top buttons open and all...such an attractive lopsided V of dark chest fur visible.
"Let's humour Cobb," I rumbled happily, "let's cheer your friend. He deserves it after having his heart broken by your brother. You don't have to worry about me."
Victor harrumphed, but he laughed, and gave my ass a swat, which made my tail jump, but not unpleasantly at all. He continued the teasing by licking my nosepad, just once, which was almost as strange a feeling as the sting of his paw on my butt.
"Let's not talk about it," he rumbled, "I want to relax."
Macro-managing Cobb's micromanaging of every detail of his gay party was probably as much a job as his day job of managing...pens...and I was more than determined to provide him with some sort of a treat to remember...wipe away every awkward memory and replace them with nicer ones.
"Me too," I said, "a lot."
It was easy to relax...yes...even with my belly fluttering a bit, and my paws rubbing up and down a few inches on Victor's sides...not exactly touching his butt but not too far away from it, either, feeling his shape and warmth. His own paws were heavy and nice on my back, which was another comfortable presence. He wanted to touch me...I hoped to touch him a lot more tonight.
"Are you in a hurry?" I asked, knowing I sounded hopeful...and that I knew that I had probably made that question before...I didn't want to come off as pushy or...maybe...well...anything that might give him the wrong idea, now that our self-imposed quarantine on intimacy had been lifted....or was about to.
"Nope," Victor smirked...a good, confident smile, that.
"That's great," I said.
His chin fuzz tickled so good.
*
Thank you for reading my story! I hope you had an interesting time reading, and I look forward to your comments. Also remember that all votes, faves and watches will help others to find these stories to enjoy and read as well!
See you on Monday! Best to you all!
Cheerio!