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The Drive

Chapter 5 of "Full Transfer"

by H. A. Kirsch

Copyright 2015

---

A week went by after the party, with no contact from Dary.

Leo didn't push it for the first few days. Then he decided he was too weird for the dashing dog. Dary was practically a dream come true: literally tall, literally dark, obviously handsome, fashionable and fetishy, confident but not jerky... or maybe he was just like every other Male Stereotype. Leo really had no idea. He had never had a boyfriend.

The fox made excuses for the bed gravity. Charging felt too good. The tickle from the wireless charger, a sensation meant mostly to let him know it was working, turned into pleasant reinforcement when mixed with the warmth of a few soft blankets. His power cells had long since topped off, but that didn't stop the charger from trying again and again every time he rolled back onto the antenna mat. The intermittent "I'm done!" tickles just prompted him to roll over.

After the accident and before Davidson Biotechnology, Leo's sex life consisted of fantasy and prostate massage. Sexual release was an accomplishment, and one that he had to deal with all by himself.

After receiving his cybernetic cock, sex turned bizzare. Now he could easily have it with other people, but those people were horrified, even if 'those people' had only been one other person who wasn't one of Leo's doctors.

Dary was a breath of fresh air! And now, he was nowhere to be seen.

The charger tickled and Leo sat up in bed. This is stupid. I should do something. What to do on a day off?

The garden.

There was always that.

---

Gardening held strange interest for Leo. He had the feel for nurturing plants, but he never believed it. The end result was perpetual amazement that something actually grew out of a seed or a clipping or a perennial root.

Leo's neighbor, Mark, sat on his own front porch and simply watched things go by. People, cars, birds. After nearly half an hour, the coyote piped up. "Hey, what're you doing? It's almost winter."

"Planting bulbs," Leo said, and looked up. He had just made a divot in his garden soil, and held a tulip bulb in one hand. One black rubber-gloved hand. At first, he'd worried that Mark or someone else would think it odd that he wore chemical gloves while gardening. He kept excuses in his head, mostly revolving around his cybernetics. "You do it this time of year. I think it's so animals don't dig them up and eat them. Squirrels and stuff like that." The real reason he wore the gloves was that he loved feeling them on his hands, seeing them on his hands. He dropped the bulb into the hole and kept plungering.

"Huh."

"What's got you outside today? It's kind of dreary. Not good for sitting on your porch," Leo said. He'd learned to make idle conversation with Mark whenever possible.

"Fresh air. Finished a big project and I'm sick of staring at the wall. Also, my girlfriend's almost done with softball and she's walking over." He verbally capitalized every letter of "girlfriend" as he gestured to the nearby playing field.

A conspicuously loud car roared down the street, turned into the parking lot, and rowled its way into a parking spot. Leo ignored it, figuring it was one of the neighbors. The guy was a newspaper reporter and reviewed cars. "A girlfriend, huh? Wow. That's a good cha-"

"Hey, you can't park there, that's a reserved spot," Mark interrupted, stood up, and waved frantically at the guy who parked in the spot anyway. It was numbered, to match Leo's condo address. The car was absurdly fancy, low to the ground and sporty, and bore the four-rings Audi logo on the front. Out stepped Dary.

"Leo, I'm surprised," the dog smiled. "I never pictured you with green thumbs."

Leo felt the same shaking surprise that most are familiar with. Instead of cold pouring down his back, he instantly heated up into his ears so thoroughly that he had to wiggle them in the cool autumn air. "Yeah, I like gardening." The fox demonstrated the digger and the bag of lily bulbs he was feeding into the holes. Then he absently tossed them aside.

Dary stood in a long frock coat, gleaming field riding boots, black dress gloves, and a red sandstone scarf. His pants were wool riding pants with a burnished leather seat. He looked fancy and dapper and old fashioned and So Good. Then he smiled again.

Leo, on the other hand, wore a dumpy old sweatshirt with a Ford Mustang pony on it in fading Performance Blue, a pair of dark-kneed ratty jeans, and old tennis shoes. At the smile from Dary, he looked down, eyes cast to the pavement. No, to the dog's gleaming lace-ankle field boots. His cock heated up between his legs and he looked over to the side, happening upon the tough and angular black fog lamp of a fantastic car. "Wait a minute, I thought you have a little Miata, don't you? What's with the supercar?"

"You're technically right," the dog said, and stuck his blacked out hand into his coat pocket. The car chirped and flashed its lights, windows flickering to steel white and opaque. "It's not my car. I need to use the bathroom. Come in with me." The dark, angular dog walked to the condo's front door and went right in.

"This also isn't your house. Dary? Dary!" The fox scurried after the beauceron, following in and shutting the door. He immediately took his work shoes off, but Dary did no such thing. The dog strode right into the guest bathroom as if he owned it, leaving Leo out in the living room. Leo huffed, hot-eared, and stormed into the bedroom. A few minutes later, he emerged in a pair of sultry black leather boot cut jeans, a yellow spandex undershirt, and a fiery black and red camp shirt featuring repetitive Escher beasts that could only be characterized as mixed-martial-arts stallions. On his feet: black leather cowboy boots, simple and with a slight curve up at the squared toe.

Dary emerged after a rather loud closed door piss, gloves tucked in one of his coat's epaulets, tawny hands peppering a hand towel. "Do I hear boot heels? Are you wearing- Oh." Dary stared over at the fox, an explosion of both sexual leather and searing color. "I thought you were going to put up a fuss out there just now. You looked so indignant. So mad, like you couldn't stand what happened a week ago, and you still can't. Can you stand it now? Can you forgive me?" The dog folded the towel and set it back, then took his gloves down from his coat epaulet. Leo followed them with his slitted eyes. Dary noticed, and gestured along with the final word, a dismissive slow swish.

Leo's eyes followed. "No one says indignant anymore. I figured... that I should go do something, with you, because. And well, you have a fancy car, so I should put on something fancy!" The fox walked forward, heels clopping against the wood floor, and embraced Dary. His ears were back all the way, heart pounding.

Dary reached around the fox's back and gently held him, stroking with a newly-gloved hand. Leo deflated with an inordinately pleased huff. "What a great idea, considering I came here to surprise you and whisk you off somewhere. Is that shirt covered in..."

"Horses," Leo said, tucking his muzzle down in. Then he slid his hands down the peppery slate front of Dary's coat and unbuttoned it. Underneath, the shirt that Dary had been wearing almost as part of a uniform every time he came to see Leo. Black leather, polo cut, buttoned up the neck. Leo spread his hands over it. "Oh my god. I've turned into a slut. Look at me, all grabby-hands..."

"A slut wouldn't just be standing there. Come on," the dog said, disengaging from Leo and heading for the front door. He simply strode outside, as if absolutely confident that the fox would follow him.

Leo did. Outside, Dary had his hand clutching the car's keyfob. He held it up for someone. Leo shut the door and turned to see the dog talking to Mark.

"Want to see something neat? That car looks pretty strange there, like it has no windows," Dary said, then pushed a button. The fancy car burbled and the windows faded from opaque to transparent "Surprise."

"Holy shit, Leo, is this your guy?" Mark said, completely attempting to humiliate Leo with his overdone stage whisper. The coyote grinned almost in a snarl.

The fox swallowed. "Mark, meet Dary. Dary, that's Mark. He paints for a living or something."

"Mark, can I see your baseball bat? I used to play softball," Dary said, stepping up to the coyote, suddenly alert with seemingly honest enthusiasm. Mark shrugged and handed over the bat, just as Leo came up to him.

"You're a total ass! You know that?" Leo hissed. Mark only giggled and turned away to share the private moment. "Yes, that's my 'man'," the fox added after a long moment.

"Like I said inside, Leo, this isn't my car," Dary said, and both fox and coyote turned his way. Both of them yanked their arms up and let out a two-tone canid yelp as Dary heaved the bat up and swung it right for one of the sleek supercar's darkened windows. It hit with a terrific bang and bounced off, window shuddering slightly as if it were almost elastic. The beauceron actually lost grip of the bat as it flew back and launched himself in a twisting jump after it, jaw catching the taped handle, gloved hands rocketing up and wrapping around it. He twisted again and came down with a bang on the pavement, body saving the aluminum slugger from smashing Mark's adjacent car window by about an inch.

"What the hell was that! What the hell! You almost smashed my car!" Mark barked, ruff up, ears to the sides, voice high.

"I almost smashed mine, too. This is a hardened Audi R8 GT. You can shoot an RPG at the side window and it will just crackle, maybe dent in the side armor a bit. If someone decides to come investigate, they'll get fried by the high-voltage discharge deterrents in the door handles." Dary handed the bat back over. "And if that fails... then you roast them with the flamethrowers. Those are disabled in America."

Mark barely took the bat. He just stared. "Are you talking shit?"

"No, I got a new side job. I get to sell these to rich people." Dary snapped a prick-eared grin and chirped the doors popped. He got in, and Leo followed. The fox shrugged and slinked inside, then shut the door.

Dary pushed a button and the car rumbled to life. He pulled out and took off, prompting Leo to immediately cling to the suicide handle on the door. Far from reckless, but amazingly fast, as well as sharply swerved to round the ends of the parking lot speed bumps with only one side of a thump. Out on the condo road, the dog stepped on it and sent both occupants back against the seats. He ratcheted through the gears, then blared a downshift around onto the main highway. "That was a little dramatic, wasn't it?" Dary finally said, as they purred around towards the hills. "Your friend definitely looked indignant." The dog bolstered his shoulders up and flashed a grin as he delivered the connecting joke.

Leo was too busy watching the scenery flick by to really remember how Mark had just looked. The baseball bat. "This is your job? You get to smash an expensive car?"

"Five hundred thousand dollars. This one just gets the baseball bat treatment, we have a few test mules to take heavier stuff. They get refitted. That costs as much as the car does. Can you even imagine the people who would buy this car? That's a gas engine," the dog said, and downshifted like he was cocking a shotgun, then stood on the accelerator. The car hammered forward with the hissing roar of a supercharged V-10. "It has pistons. It costs more to pay for the EPA tax fee than it does to buy a BMW hybrid."

The country road wound into a state park, past a sign that indicated ROAD CLOSED and DETOUR with a right arrow. "Uh, I'm not sure we should be going in here."

Dary laughed it off. "I've been through here a few times already. One of the guys in the department, the guy who got me the job, he's friends with the road crews that were doing work back in here. It's all open and clear, they're just not opening it until Monday." He guided the car onto the road and the engine snarled as they tore up onto the winding drive. "Besides, the cops come here to drive the shit out of cars to let off steam. I know a few cops. Most of them aren't into uniforms when having sex."

Leo patted his leatherclad lap, intent on distracting himself from the impromptu rally stage. Then he realized his e-kit was nowhere to be seen.. He scooted his feet around in the footwells, flipped open every scarce cubbyhole, even peeked in the glovebox. No sign of the hip-pack that he usually - had to - carry around. "Dary, I forgot something."

"Mmm?" The dog growled, winding the car around an actual switchback with a faint grind of traction loss. They were going close to thirty miles an hour - twice the posted 15mph - and rocketed up to sixty before carving around and into a valley.

"My bag, I forgot to bring it along," the fox whined, frazzling himself until his tail thickened, and his ruff stuck out of his black shirt collar. "Shit. Shit!"

"What's so important in it?"

"It's... it's in case something happens!" the fox hissed.

"To what?" Dary asked, eyes flickering back and forth as he wound the car up and around and through the state park.

"My.. my parts! My arms! Legs? You know?" Leo squawked, clawing around in the racing seats. "Come on, stop for a bit or something."

"There isn't-"

"Find somewhere and stop," Leo hissed, ashy muzzle wrinkled back to display angry rows of teeth.

Dary rounded the next corner and slid into a scenic turnout, then stopped. "Leo, I don't think you brought it. Was it a fannypack? You took that inside-"

"I need that stuff, Dary, I need it," Leo whimpered, clutching at anything that came within reach of his hands, settling on the seat belt. "In case, I don't know, in case something, I just," the fox blubbered, eyes wide but staring blankly down at the center console.

Dary turned, sharp ears quivering and swept back. "Leo." He grasped at the fox's arm. The vulpine gave his black hand no more attention than he gave anything else in the car, head flicking around as if he were suddenly going through chemical withdrawal. Dary simply held on. "We're closer to Davidson's clinic than we are to your house. If you called them to let them know we were coming, if something happened, I could get you there before you had a chance to tell them your name."

While that was a slight exaggeration, they were both sitting in a six-hundred horsepower sports car. Leo squeezed his eyes shut. "I need some air." He wrenched out of the grip and popped the door open, then climbed out. Dary followed immediately, rushing around the front of the car to grab Leo as the fox swooned and stumbled. "No, no, I'm okay, it's just that thing's so damn low to the ground! I'm not sick or anything, Dary! I'm just, I need that stuff. I always have it with me. Always. Always always. I even took it to that costume thing!"

The dog sighed and let go of Leo, trusting the fox to walk around. He wandered over to the heavy series of logs that served to demarcate the edge of the turnout. Below them was a verdant valley, thick with evergreen and deciduous trees. A good portion of the latter had exploded into color, matching with the rest of the hilly pass. If the road hadn't been closed, there would be a constant purr of leaf-peepers. Instead, they were completely alone for miles upon miles.

Leo did not deserve to be trusted. He immediately went right over to the edge, stopped only by one of the heavy logs. The land was deceptive, already arcing downwards. The logs were more like benches; any vehicle careening their way would be in a bad place. Down below, there were no indications that anyone had gone over the edge.

Dary rushed up behind the fox and grabbed onto him. "Leo, what're you doing?"

"Almost losing my balance," the vulpine whined, arching his back into Dary. The two wrestled for a moment, before the dog steered him to one of the higher logs and sat him down.

"Are you insane? You looked like you were going to bolt right over the edge!"

Leo sat and listened to the blood rush into his ears. He hadn't meant... he didn't... "I'm sorry. I just went crazy. I need that stuff with me all the time." He almost cried, then warmed back up as Dary sat with him.

"Maybe we should go somewhere that isn't on the edge of a foothill," the dog said, and patted at Leo's back. "Like over there. Nice little picnic area." The dog pointed to another turnout just slightly up the road. Leo just looked at his hand.

After a long sigh, the fox got up and started off in that direction. Dary kept a close march, and the pair sat down at one of the picnic tables. "I probably should have asked if you were afraid of cars, or... something," Dary said, losing his words and simply holding his arm around Leo's shoulders.

The fox kept expecting to see a car come around the bend, but there was no traffic for miles. He gradually relaxed. "Dary, I'm different, I'm not a regular person, I can't just... I can't just eat and drink and sleep and have sex and go on with my life. I have parts like your car over there has parts, I have to take care of them, I have to be careful with them..."

The dog chuckled, but kept his eyes wide, alert. "I have to be careful with all of my parts, too. Everyone does. I can't go trying to run off the side of a cliff; that'd break everything."

Leo looked up. "But it's not the same."

"I think it is."

Then you don't understand, Leo thought, and imagined a repeat of what happened the previous week. Just go. But where would Leo go if Dary left? He would be stranded on the mountain. He would have to fend for himself. He would have to chase down birds and hunker down in caves and-

Dary sat behind the fox and gently rubbed him from sternum to the top of his belt buckle, through his shirt. "You need to relax. You're so tense. Nothing's going to happen up here. I'm here."

Leo tried to relax, but now he couldn't for a completely different reason. Dary was playing to his interests. The stroking wasn't just affectionate - the dog's gloved hands quickly found their way to bare fox fur, teasing the centerline that triggered the canid submission response. One of them broke off to pet over the top of the fox's bare, black hand. "Okay."

"You're not relaxed."

"You're... you're teasing me."

"I'm doing no such thing," Dary said, and stroked up past the fox's clavicle to his neck, up to feel under the chin with fine Italian driving leather.

Leo took his hand and put it in his lap; Dary's overarching hand came with it. Then Leo gently scooted his fingers out of the way and Dary let his settle against the sultry, fresh black leather of the fox's new pants. The dog immediately began stroking the curved bulge that strained into the leather. The fox went to squirm, but Dary adjusted his grip, other arm coming around outside the fox's elbow and pinning that one to his chest. The other one tangled up with Dary's groping limb. His heart leaped up into his throat. "Please make me cum, Sir."

"You don't have to call me Sir, fox," Dary said, voice heavy and whispered as he pushed his snout near the end of Leo's ear. "But I like it."

Leo squirmed backwards against Dary's lap, and the dog returned the favor, but focused on opening Leo's fly. The fox closed his eyes and kept nuzzling at the gloved hand that roamed all over his face. Dary slowly turned his glove-fetish petting into a firm grasp around the vulpine's snout, palm up under the chin to cover it over and stop the fox from uttering anything more than a grunt.

"Leo, I want you to watch."

"Nrrh," the fox groaned, finally getting one arm to try and pry Dary's off. When the dog relented on his grip, Leo reversed and pushed the hand back into place.

"I want you to watch. Can you do that while you're nuzzling my hand?"

"Mmrrh," Leo groaned, intentionally making only a vague sound, and shook his head.

Dary pulled and Leo strained back, but let the dog win. He opened his eyes, and saw precum glistening around his pisshole as the dog gently milked his foreskin. More and more welled up, and soon the dog's glove leather was gliding over the actual surface.

Not flesh. Surface. Leo thought about it and his heart skipped a beat again. But it was so good - surface. Not flesh. Surface. So good, so leathery, so - not flesh. Not flesh.

Oh fuck it, Leo groaned, and kicked the thought from his head. He was left with the toe-curling overstimulation that Dary's fingers gave him as they pulled over his bare cockhead, fingers pausing to stroke one around the inside of the fox's cock hood. The fox stomped his feet and Dary's booted legs came forward, trapping against the outsides of the vulpine's cowboy boots.

Leo yelped into the hand clutched over his mouth, lips squeezing and pulling at the leather as his balls drew up and creamy gouts of sperm pumped from his cockhead. Dary directed a few of them at the edge of the table bench, and sent one hurling out a good few feet onto the grass. The rest puddled down Leo's cockhead and collected around the dog's thumb. Dary withdrew his hand and let the mess slide into his palm. Leo grabbed for the dog's hand and eagerly licked it up.

"That was unexpected," Dary said, then wriggled his slightly damp but clean fingers around. "But I bet you feel better."

"It's not like having a good cry or something," Leo pouted, but stretched back against the dog. He grunted and stood up, cock still hanging out of his leather pants. Where he had felt the cold, sweaty claws of paranoia over something as simple as leaving his emergency sack at home, he now felt the warm ignorance of post-orgasm.

"Aren't you going to finish me?" Dary said, leaning one fist on the table.

Leo turned around and grinned. "You're not serious. I'll finish you in private."

"You don't know me that well yet. I used to be a dominant. People paid me to put them in their place. I could be very serious."

"But you're not. I know that much. You're not really very serious. You just look serious. You look like a hotter, leatherier version of Dr. Who."

"It's the scarf, isn't it?" Dary said, resting a hand on Leo's shoulder. The view was quite nice, as the state park stretched out in front of them and left most of the trappings of civilization squished off to the far left. "Also, it's actually just the Doctor. He doesn't have a name. Hey look, they're doing something with that old quarry finally," Dary interrupted himself.

"Huh?"

"Over there," the dog pointed. "I drive past there sometimes, when I'm out for fun. In a car. Driving. That kind of fun," he quickly added. Leo didn't seem to mind what Dary had said, so the dog continued. "It was abandoned in the second collapse when I was a kid. I used to go play over there for fun, actually, until it turned kind of nasty and graffiti-laden and 'fun' stopped being make believe."

"I used to play make-believe."

"What'd you make believe?" Dary said, and pulled Leo into a back hug. The fox reached up and wrapped his hands around Dary's sleeves, then just settled.

"A lot of stuff. I wanted to be, I don't know, some guy in some old heroic sort of thing. Like a cartoon I used to watch. He had a sexy outfit, and he was just really gorgeous. I think I wanted him but didn't know what that meant at the time, so I assumed I wanted to be him." Leo left out a considerable part of what he would make-believe. If he hadn't just orgasmed, he'd have risen up again.

"I used to want to be in the army. I wanted to capture guys and tie them up."

Leo turned around and looked up. "Really?"

Dary nodded. "I'm really into bondage. I told you that. You _know_. Look what trouble it's caused me, too. Come on," the dog said, and started back to the car. Leo followed along and climbed in after the car was 'turned on' and became more than just a glistening black shape.

"What do you mean, caused trouble?" Leo said, buckling in. As soon as he was fixed in place, Dary took off. The car's leather interior filled up with the V-10 roar of the engine just behind his head. This time, Leo didn't feel worried about Dary's driving skills. The roar of the engine, the growl and then hiss and then squawk of tires losing grip around turns became just something. The only real reminder that he was experiencing something exciting was the occasional sideways buck when Dary came off a turn just right. The windshield started to spackle with drizzle, and the wipers flicked it away.

"Hmm?'

"You just said that your bondage interests caused you trouble."

"Not the bad kind. If I hadn't sprung it on you, would you have... told me?"

Leo sat up a little, only to get pushed back when Dary took a straight piece of road to speed up. "Of course."

"Really? I think that it's about fifty-fifty. Maybe you would have caved."

"What the hell?" Leo fidgeted in place, ears hot as Dary pushed his buttons.

"If I was completely wrong, you wouldn't be defensive," Dary said, not looking at Leo, not looking at any part of the fox, eyes fixated on the road, flicking around. He dove the car into a turn and jostled the steering wheel, and the view outside spun around as the car took the corner in a full four-wheel drift. The car rounded one of the last switchbacks and headed onto the exit to leave the park, trees flicking by, wet leaves dashed off the dashboard just like raindrops.

"Maybe you're right," Leo sighed. "I'm not just saying that because you're a tough leather dog who used to take money to tie people up or whatever. Isn't that prostitution?"

"What's wrong with prostitution? And technically, it wasn't, because I wasn't licensed as a companion. I didn't take chances. I literally just tied people up, humiliated them, degraded them, ordered them around. I don't think I'm cut out for it. I tried to get into it after I got back from the middle east, thinking that maybe I'd learned something about being assertive-"

"Wait, huh? What? Middle east?"

"I was a physical security agent for a 'private security contractor'," Dary said, and used two gloved fingers on each hand to bunny-ear the air above the steering wheel. "Well, it's the same company I work for now, just a different division. They changed their name to Xandross after that whole mess. It's kind of a funny story, if you laugh at stories about greed and corruption and crap like that. Now that I think about it, I'll probably end up flying back over there to drop one of these bad boys-" Dary knocked on the car's dashboard, "Out of a C-130 on a parachute to impress some oil baron and his harem."

"That sounds exciting. Was it like the army?"

"No. It wasn't like tying businessmen up, either. You know how some people are good at things, but they don't really enjoy them? That's what it was like. I don't like being in charge of people. I like playing at it, sometimes. Not all the time. Not for a job."

"You like being in charge of me."

"I said I like it sometimes," Dary retorted. "Ooh, look."

Leo looked around. The country road leading out of the state park met up with one of the rural highways through a spiral interchange like a superhighway. The fox didn't think much of it, although it looked glaringly industrial in the middle of what were essentially old growth woods. "It's a road."

"I don't really like this car. It's too fancy. It's computerized. It's very well computerized, but when I gun it and downshift and kick the wheel around, a bunch of shit happens somewhere in this thing's guts and it does some fancy maneuver. It's like playing a really realistic videogame. But. You can still do this. Hold on."

Leo held onto the suicide handle on the door and was suddenly thankful for the racing leather seats that cupped him on three sides. "Wait, aren't you going a little-"

Dary came up to the start of the spiral down-ramp and stabbed the nose of the car right into it, then bucked the wheel outside and gunned the engine. The exhaust burbled and growled, and inertia jammed Leo into the side of the seat. The world rotated again, but this time, it just kept going, followed by the howl of the tires on pavement. They drifted the entire ramp and went almost sideways out onto the highway, jerked back in line. Dary gave the wheel a leather-gloved slap. "I can't believe I did that! I could never do that in my car. Way too dangerous. But that was fun. That's movie driving."

"You know," Leo said, panting slightly. The pavement was wet, and as he looked back, he could see some mist created from the overheated tires and the cold rain drifting away from the on ramp. "I didn't know you were into cars."

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