The Really Gay Party
#55 of Hockey Hunk Season 5
Cover art by Frosted_Fur - thanks, Frosty!
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Good neeeeeeews everyone!
Phew, we are back in business. The muse was gone and I couldn't write anything, really, and now that I've slowly started the engine again, it's time to put the show back on the road, and that means that The Hockey Hunk is back to delighting us on Mondays and Fridays. I'm very glad to be back, and I still have so much to say, and guess what - next week, Hockey Hunk turns 3 years old! Who would have thought indeed! Amazing!
Now it's business as usual, though, and I hope you'll have a fun time reading, and I look forward to reading your comments on the chapter.
Also, I'd like to say that Tank Jaeger was joking the other day on his story
Filling the Void - Chapter Onethat he wants to post on Wednesdays so as to not to get trampled on by The Hockey Hunk, so I thought it'd be really nice to give him a shout-out, too - for those moments when you feel HH-deprived, check out Tank's work, it's well worth it, and I return to it often.
My thanks go to Hammerfist again for being my craft beer consultant and booze expert for this chapter. Thanks, dude, you've made Cobb even more Cobbtastic!
Have a wonderful read, people, I'm glad to be back, and do tell me how you liked the chapter!
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Peter
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It happened that instead of that delightfully bipolar individual of Jacob Holden, the door was opened by a suitably harrowed-looking Rory wearing what appeared to be a small garbage bag on his head and a Victor Holden, whom was trying to smile politely. Whether his own long-suffering appearance was due to seeing me or the general stress of trying to survive a social event with his brother, I was not sure, but I was willing not to let that damage me too much.
"Good evening," I said, "I suppose I am late, so I apologize for that."
"Hello!" the Doberman retorted. "Not at all. You're just in time for the food!"
"That is most excellent," I nodded my approval, "but Rowreeh, why are you wearing that on your head?"
Rory let out a grumbling rumble and poked the black thing on his head.
"You'll see what's in store for you soon enough, Peter," he responded.
Ominous. Interesting.
"I look forward to it," I replied. "May I come in?"
"Sure!" the Doberman replied.
"I'm sorry I don't shake paws," I murmured as I passed the two through the hall, smelling food and alcohol and a number of furs, some of familiar quality in fragrance, odor, and pheromone balance. Not that you though about that sort of a thing. You simply knew. High school health class.
"It is fine," I heard Victor speak somewhere behind him, but I was already underway into the room, dimly lit in a shade of curious red, which created somewhat warped images of furs milling about what looked like a massive food service, and there was a strange number of feather boas wrapped about them, even if you took into account that one of them was Doctor Nicholas Faye Junior, esquire, PhD, DD, RSVP, DDT, homosexual extraordinaire.
"OH HELLO! YOU'RE FINALLY HERE!"
Something very large and brown and black moved in the quasi-darkness my eyes simply getting used to, and the form emerged in greater detail, approaching with great strides.
I held my breath, and put my paws onto my sides, flat against my body. That way he could not shake them, and contaminate them even worse than the cab door handle could have.
"YOU ARE MOST WELCOME!" Jacob Holden panted into my ear. It was still itching when he finally took a step back and observed me with his absurd eyes that had been painted so that he looked like Cher with a muscular torso. Maybe that was her secret.
"Good evening," I said, "your décor?"
I waved my paw about, and got a lot of rapid nodding from the leather-pants-wearing man-child.
"Oh, I just thought I'd do something little to cheer things up!" he shrugged theatrically, in the way that says 'I spent hours doing it, please compliment me even if I belittle myself!'
"How nice," I said, "what are you going for exactly? Is it meant to be a photographic laboratory or...'the Hunt for Red October'?"
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The Doberman gave me a puzzled look, which appeared even more extraordinary than it probably usually would have thanks to the black paint frames around them. I could hear some shuffling from behind me, which likely meant that Rory and Victor were trying to come over to bodyguard me - while the idea of being squeezed between them was not entirely unappealing, I suspected it might be somewhat socially awkward, and hence I decided to stand my own ground and swept the air behind me with my tail to deter any protectors for now.
"Very nice," I smiled beneath my mask, "perfect for the creatures of the night who seem to be hanging out over there..."
I tilted my head to the right, to point towards Nicholas Faye and an unknown otter in their feathered glory. Jacob gave them a look and then laughed.
"Oh! OH! OH!"
He lumbered away with remarkable speed for his size, and gave me an indeed equally remarkable view of his posterior while he crouched down to pick something from the couch. I could not even imagine what he had in mind before he quite abruptly returned hauling a plastic bag with him.
"Here, Peter, everyone gets to choose a boa or a cap!" he dug into the bag and pulled out examples of each.
I glanced over to the Rory hovering nearby. Jacob's latest behavior seemed to become more evident, now that I made the connection between the floppy hat on Rory's head and on Jacob's as well. I felt my tail already bristle at the idea of that boa, however. It seemed awfully prone to catching all sorts of things upon me.
"If you insist," I said, taking the offered flimsy black hat and placing it upon my crown. "How do I look?"
"Ridiculous," Rory chimed in.
I turned about and gave him a wink.
"Now we look the same!"
"And now you must meet everyone!" Cobb declared. "EVERYONE!"
Well...that's one way to do it...
"EVERYONE!" he slammed his paw down on my shoulder several times in his version of a pat pat pat. "HERE'S PETER!"
How amazingly subtle.
Rory
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Poor Peter. I wasn't sure whether he was ready for quite this much Cobbness. It was a bit hard to tell what he was thinking too, with his immensely calm voice and manner. He'd even accepted Cobb's ridiculous cap without a hitch. I just wanted him to be alright.
"Cheerio, Sinclair!"
That was Nicholas alright, toasting Peter's arrival with his pink welcome drink, feather rustling about his arm.
"Hiiii!" the otter by him replied, waving a paw towards the cougar. "How are you, darling?"
"I am excellent, thank you," the cougar replied, "I am Peter Sinclair."
"Demetrius!" the otter waved grandiosely.
"Hello," Peter replied, "Is that like Madonna? Cher? Christo?"
"If you want it to be, darling!" the otter replied cheerfully.
"How nice," Peter replied in a muffled murmur through the white mask.
"Oh come on Peter," Cobb was suddenly upon him again, tugging on his arm, "there's someone here who you definitely have to meet!"
The cougar had no choice but to be dragged towards the dining table where, possibly attempting to appear as small and insignificant as possible was the fox sitting with a massive plate of food in front of him and looking like he didn't know where to start with it. That is, until Cobb was suddenly there, hauling a cougar with him...
COBB
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"Oh Tate, look who's here!" I beamed as I waved my paw between the comfortably seated fox and the cougar standing next to me. "This is my good friend Peter! Peter, here is my very old best friend, Tate Michaels!"
Tate
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Cobb sure did a big fuss about this new guest coming in. A cougar he was, with a low voice and a pretty strange air to him, not only because he was wearing some kind of a...fancy dress? I don't know, his clothes seemed regular, but he had this mask on that looked like he'd dressed up already for the party...though I wasn't sure why. It wasn't anything fruity like these things everyone else was wearing, and I didn't know why they hadn't one on me too.
I barely got a breath in before the two were standing by the table where Cobb had put me to sit with the plate he had loaded up with food for me. Cobb's head was practically spinning with him looking at both me and the cougar in turn, and I heard from the whap whap whap against the leather of his...pants...that he was being really pleased about himself, too.
"Oh Tate, here's my friend Peter! Peter, this is my very old best friend Tate Michaels!"
Best friend now huh? I couldn't do anything but stare.
"Good evening," the cougar spoke, that white mask moving a little about. "Excuse me if I don't shake paws. A bad habit of mine."
Something freaky was going on there with him.
"Peter, Tate, Tate, Peter!" Cobb repeated the introductions.
"Hello," I said.
"Hello indeed," the cougar said.
"Let's get some food for you, Peter, and then you can sit down here and you two can have a great big chat!" Cobb said.
Peter
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Now that was laying it a bit thick, was it?
"There seems to be an awfully lot to eat, Jacob," I noted, glancing at the food setting.
"Anything you like!" the Doberman beamed. "Do you need any help? I can load you a plate if you like!"
"I don't let others touch my food," I said. "I presume everyone has used utensils for picking up the food from the service plates?"
"Of course," the Doberman said. "Of course!"
"Excellent," I said, "then perhaps I will be spared of salmonella."
He frowned, but I was already on my way.
"You'll also need a welcome drink!" the Doberman hollered. "I'll just pour one for you!"
"I'll only drink bottled stuff that is unopened until I open it," I said, "some sparkling water would be my preference, if you can. Alcohol is not good to me and nor is excessive sugar."
Tate
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What was this guy...some kind of a health fanatic? Was there nothing he wanted to eat or drink here? Sure all this could be a bit of a shock, but if he was Cobb's friend...how many gay guys did he know anyway, without being gay?
How could he be so obvious so as not to realize I...
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Buh. This was probably a bad idea. Should've just gently declined and...I don't know. This party was getting weird...
Victor
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"Well seems that everyone is in now, then," I said to Rory who lingered by my side, observing the goings-on, "unless my brother has decided on even further surprise guests..."
"Yeah," the lion said, "bring on the male strippers..."
My ears bounced a little.
"You'd need some more eye candy huh?" I smiled a little, and patted the small of his back, quite sure that Cobb would not see. "Me not enough?"
The lion gave me a look and smiled, and returned the secret touch, as boldly as I did, near the base of my tail. I flicked it, and just about caught his thumb, or so I thought, going by instinct only.
"And there's Cobb too..." I knew that was laying it on a bit thick, but I suppose my brother deserved that, after this spectacle he had staged so far.
"Don't go there," Rory's mane seemed to bristle.
I winked.
Nicholas
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"...and here, chicken wings, and here is a pot of delicious sauce..."
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"...oh I don't think I can take that, it's been in the open air for a while..."
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How kind of this Jacob, to tend for poor Sinclair like this. He seemed to have a heart of gold as much as buns of leather-clad steel, too.
"Demetrius, dear," I spoke to the otter who was holding a bottle of beer with a picture of a golden dragon on it, "isn't there a splendid word in your language that is most descriptive...say...callipygian?"
Dear Demetrius glanced up to me from the bottle he was fondling ever so tenderly, glimpsed the mounds of joy that formed the allegedly straight canine's backside, and then to me.
"Quite right!" he smiled, eyes flashing with delight.
"Oh I would say," I purred.
COBB
"What're you guys talking here?" I asked when I had made sure that Peter was putting on enough cuts onto his plate. "Oh and you've found the Gulden Drake!"
"Oh, I have!" the otter sounded really pleased, and that was great, it made me smile! "This is a rather nifty beer you've got here, dude!"
"Thanks!" I grinned. "That was really expensive but I think it's worth it!"
"Oh, I'm sure," the otter said. "Now if I only found the bottle opener..."
"Oh, damn!" I wanted to smack my head with my paw. "Gotcha..."
I hurried over to the other side of the counter and dug into one of Victor's awfully messy kitchen drawers.
"Well it must be here..."
Demetrius
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"...told you..." Nicholas slurred from my side, as both of us admired the sight of that sleek brown back that melted into black leather that flared most pleasantly.
"Definitely callipygian, " I replied happily.
"Definitely."
He got up, then, hiding himself in the process, though with a shiny bottle opener in his paw.
"Oh here it is!" he declared. "And why are you guys talking about Mary Poppins here? Is it something gay guys like talking about? It's been soooo long since I saw that one, I must've been a cub..."
"Oh really?" Nicholas leaned in, looking very interested.
Victor
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"Do you think we should save my brother from your friends?" I nudged my muzzle towards the sight of my brother being cornered between the kitchen counter and the kitchen island by the two feather boa-wearing furs.
"As long as he doesn't start hitting them because they're hitting on him, I think we should let him be," Rory replied from my side, looking well-humored, eyes glinting and all, even under the rim of his ridiculous cap.
I gave the three another glance, now watching how the otter was wrestling a bottle opener from Cobb's over-zealous paw.
"If we all gang up on him, we might able to wrestle him onto the floor if it comes to that," I said.
"Don't give them ideas," Rory poked my side gently.
I chuckled.
"I don't think they need any further ideas," I mused, looking at the unfolding play again. My gaze also crossed past Tate, who was sitting only near to the kitchen counter where everything was happening, with my brother's incident with the two feather boa sisters and with Peter suspiciously putting food onto his plate, that still left the fox sitting on the table with his overflowing plate and simply staring into the air in front of him.
Damn. That probably wasn't what Cobb had in mind when this was supposed to be a fun small evening with food and drink and lots of chatting...
"Let's go and chat with Tate," I rumbled into Rory's ear quickly, "otherwise he's gonna just slink out of here or something."
"Sure," he said, with a small smile, as we headed over from the sitting section to the dining area.
"...and here, Mister Faye, how about you try the...the Spotted Cow! It's got a fruity note to it!"
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Rory
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Why did I imagine Cobb breaking that bottle and using the newly jagged bottle as an improvised weapon against the incoming pink horde...
"Hi, Tate, how's it going?" Victor rumbled, deep and friendly to the fox sitting there and looking quite small and...I don't know...indecisive.
His ears jumped and he looked almost scared at being talked to...hell, I suppose even I'd be scared, perhaps, in such a situation...but at least he didn't scurry away.
"Hey," the fox said.
"Hi!" I smiled extra broadly. "Are you comfortable?"
"Sure, sure," he replied, sounding almost dismissive, "thanks for everything."
"Is the food alright?" Victor asked. "Looks like my brother has you loaded!"
"It's really too much..." the fox stared at his plate.
Weren't foxes supposed to be cheerful? They always were on cartoons...or villains...but I guess you can't have one without another. I never read about a sad fox...but I suppose real foxes aren't cartoon characters. Then again, maybe I was a horrible racist even thinking about that. The cheerful fox stereotypes...the token fox...damn...
"Well you don't have to eat it all, of course" Victor said, "I'm ballooning up because he keeps feeding me so much...heh..."
He patted his stomach cheerfully, and that both sounded and looked really fun...stare-worthy...
"I guess you already met everyone, then?" I tried to continue the conversation before it was irreparably ruined.
"Yeah, sure."
"Including me!" Peter chimed in, being only two yards away and well aware of our exchange. "Remember to keep me a seat there, I need somewhere to put this plate down, there's no way I'm eating with my fingers! Ohhh Jaaaacob!"
COBB
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"...and it's a very nice malty taste with a hint of corn...and oh, oh yes, Peter, of course!" I called out for the cougar. "What is it?"
"Could I have a fork and a knife please, I'd prefer to eat with utensils even if you meant this as a finger buffet. I can't eat with my hands."
Hmm...poor guy...that's most of the fun!
"Oh, sure!" I called. "Excuse me, Deuterium, I have to go and help Peter."
"I'll give you a helping paw any time," the otter winked.
Hmmm...creepy...better not turn my ass towards him, he might get ideas...yes...where did...yes...that drawer...snap...snap...then turn about, to face...oh damn, the lion...why does Rory have such gay friends?
"Could you pass me the plate of wieners please?" the lion said. "I'd like a top up for my plate!"
"Sure, sure!" I grabbed the plate onto my paw and placed it into his vicinity before I moved over towards Peter. "Here...where do you want these?"
He looked at the fork and knife in my paw and flicked his ears.
"You touched them," he said.
"Uh...yes?"
"Can you give me another pair but take them out with a napkin, please?" he said. "I don't deal well with things other furs have touched before me, especially if they're going into my muzzle."
Uhhh...
"Yeah, sure," I said, abandoning the utensils to the table with a clatter.
Tate
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That guy has some problems...and why did those two queers have to be all over Cobb? He didn't want anything like that...he didn't like queers...especially queer foxes...why would he like a poofy lion and a fag of an otter to pay any attention to him?
"It's such a nice weather outside," Victor's boyfriend said.
I picked a piece of cucumber from the plate and popped it into my muzzle.
"It is," I said, "barbeque weather, I guess."
"Hah," the lion said. "I bet my dad is trying to light that old thing up on our backyard..."
"I THINK WE NEED A BIT OF MUSIC NOW!"
I turned to look over to the right and noticed that Cobb had gone over to where the TV was, and there was also a small stereo set, and he was tapping the controls on it.
"MUSIC!" Cobb announced.
Some kind of a guitar riff...then a harmonica....?
Rory
"...there's a loving in your eyes all the way..."
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Cobb...no...
Victor
"...if I listened to your lies would you say..."
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COBB...
Peter
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"...I'm a man...without conviction..."
"...man...without conviction..."
Nicholas
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"...I'm a man...who doesn't know..."
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Well, I'll be!
Demetrius
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"...how to sell a contradiction..."
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It seems to be party time! And this beer is so nice.
COBB
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"karma karma karma karma karma chameleon..."
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"KARMA KARMA KARMA KARMA KARMA CHAMELEEEON...YOU COME AND GOOO..."
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Song link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JmcA9LIIXWw
Thank you for reading! I hope to hear your comments, and I'll see you again on Monday for the next chapter! I hope you had a nice time, and I see you soon!
Cheerio!