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Everything's a little fuzzy. If I stop and think about it I'm not really sure quite how long I've been here. Long enough that we're leaving. The bar is closing. Jack giggles and shoves me lightly towards the exit.

"God Tyler, you are such a fucking lightweight," he says. Zachary laughs and gives me a pat on the back.

"Well it was great meeting you Tyler. See you next week then, yeah?"

"Yeah, I'll be there."

Half two. It must be half two. That's when the bar closes. I should get home and see him. I should... heh.

"You too Jack," Jack nods at him. "Bye then you two. Don't make a mess."

"We're just going for coffee," Jack says indignantly.

"Coffee? That's what you kids call it these days?"

"Fuck you Zachary, we're the same age."

The zebra just smiles, shakes his head and walks off with a wave once we're outside.

Everybody else went home an hour ago. Two hours ago?

"You're not too repulsed by our little band of misfits then?" Jack asks me once we're alone.

"Hell no. You're all great fun." I assure him, following his footsteps as he leads me to the nearest twenty-four-hour fast food place. We're getting coffee. We're just getting coffee. I'm not tired anyway.

"Hey your story sounds really interesting, send me over what you have ready so far when you get the chance. I'd love to give it a read through and give you some feedback."

"Heh, well okay, at some point. Just make sure to be gentle, it's my first."

Jack stops walking, I look at him quizzically and he stares back wide eyed.

"You're a virgin?"

"Oh, oh, no, no, it's, uh, I meant that it's my first try at a full length novel."

His expression fades back into his regular contented confidence, he wears an amused grin and winks at me.

"Oh, I know exactly what you meant." He starts walking again and by the time I know what's happening I'm lagging a few paces behind. He sways his hips and tail from side to side slowly with every step, it's the perfect way to walk if you want to show off your ass. "You just look cute when you're caught off guard."

"You sly bastard."

I can't keep my eyes away from his butt. I don't want an erection in public. I don't want an erection in public. Fuck.

I do my best to stare at the pavement, but my eyes keep wandering back up to his rear as it bobs up and down, back and forth...

"Just keeping you on your toes," he says. He looks over his shoulder, traces my line of sight to his ass and he grins. "If I have to be gentle then the same goes for you."

"Huh?"

My heart is pounding. I'm just going for a coffee. With a new friend. Just a coffee. I'm not tired.

It's more than that and you know it.

Just a coffee.

Close your eyes and you can see him lying there, butt naked, begging for you to fuck him. Open them and you're staring at his ass.

About that erection in public thing...

Just a coffee?

I zip up my coat and put my paws in my pockets, doing my best to push the coat down over my bulge.

"I mean when I send you one of my short stories. Be gentle."

"Ah... that's what you meant."

"We're here." Jack says, ignoring my comment and dragging me into the fast food place. He sits me at a free table.

It's not exactly hard to find a free table considering the place is almost empty, which is not so crazy considering the time. Jack says he'll go and get us a coffee each. I insist on paying for the both of us, he insists I stay sat down. Instead of arguing I hand him a note and tell him I'll have a latte. He nods and goes up to the counter.

Deep breath.

What time is it exactly? I check my phone. 2:40. I have to get back before he wakes up. That'll be about seven. Plenty of time.

Plenty of time for what exactly? Having sex with this guy I barely know? Completely devaluing my long term relationship on one stupid night?

Ruining my whole life?

I'm just having a coffee.

Yeah.

A coffee.

Fuck.

I close my eyes and lean back in the chair. I run a paw over my face and sigh in exasperation. That buzzed, tipsy feeling is wearing off a little and the tightness in my jeans fades. Hopefully the coffee should help wake my brain up too.

Jack's back with our drinks before I can set my worried mind to rest, although seeing his tranquil smile admittedly helps quiet my thoughts and calms me down a little. He sits opposite me, passes over my latte and blows at his drink to cool it down. His eyes sweep across me slowly: chest, arms, paws, neck, face, mouth, eyes, ears, nose. He takes it all in.

"So when you're not writing or wandering the streets aimlessly, or ordering water in bars, what do you get up to?" He takes a sip of his drink, grimaces, places it on the table and says. "Too hot, I shouldn't have done that. Now I've burnt my tongue. I hate when that happens."

"Yeah that's always a pain in the ass. You have to learn patience, young Jack," I say, doing my best to avoid his question.

"Young Jack? I'm twenty-two, you can't be much older than me. If you are you look damn good for your age." He lifts the cup to his mouth again, stops himself, frowns down at the liquid and looks back up to me. "You look pretty damn good either way to be honest."

"Ah, so you're a great liar too, I'll remember that along with all your other skills." I say with a conspiratorial grin. Jack laughs and shakes his head. "I'm twenty-five by the way, and you don't look too bad for your age either."

"Oh my, mister Tyler, what a forward thing to say! 'Not too bad'? Why you're basically jerking off all over me already."

I half laugh, half snort which ultimately comes out as a sort of choking sound.

"I, uh..."

"Wasn't expecting me to say that?"

"Yeah."

"I was expecting you to say that." He blows at his drink again. "You're so innocent for your advanced years. Us youngsters have a bit of bite to us nowadays." He points at his coffee. "Do you think it's all right to sip now? I really don't want to burn my tongue again."

I test a sip from my latte and nod, it's just about right. Hot, but not searing.

"I can't help but feel like you're making fun of me." I say as Jack takes a long gulp from his drink.

"Oh, that's not it at all. I just like surprising you."

"Oh yeah. Something about me looking cute, you said."

"That's right. You make the cutest damn bewildered expression every time I say something you don't expect. It's fucking adorable." He hides a grin behind another gulp of his coffee. "So, anyway, you never answered my question. What do you get up to on a day to day basis?"

"Oh you mean apart from all the sex, drugs and rock and roll?" I say with a smile. He frowns. Makes a dissatisfied hum and takes another sip of coffee.

"Yeah, I mean apart from that bullshit reflective answer. It feels like whenever I ask you anything personal you do your best to ignore me." He disarms my defensive regiment of words with the light breeze of his mellow, suddenly disinterested, voice. "Tyler, I really want to get to know you. If you didn't want this, then why did you come for a coffee with me at two in the morning?" Good question. What exactly am I doing here? "You really do look cute when you're surprised. Sorry if I sounded harsh there, I just want to know the real you Tyler. You've pretty much been avoiding talking about yourself all night."

"Sorry. I guess it's in my nature to be evasive like that." I feel tense. My paws cup firmly around my drink and I hunch over the lacy strands of steam rising up from it.

"It's okay, I get it. It's not easy for everybody to open up." He takes another sip and looks thoughtfully into the window behind me. "But hey, I like what I've seen of you so far, and considering you're here I think you can say the same about me." His expression lifts and he looks me in the eyes. "I'm not one for pretense. I just want to know you a little better before inviting you home. I need a little more than just sexy otter writer before I can be happy letting you get your paws all over me." My ears stand on end and my body goes stiff. Jack giggles. "You are a mystery. One minute you're staring at my butt and the next you're petrified at the idea of having your paws all over me."

This is the moment of truth. You can tell him what's really going on and go home to your boyfriend, or make an excuse, get out of here and meet up with the group again next week, or...

Those closing walls, that quicksand, that inertia. That's what I've been living with. Making no effort to change anything won't help me. It can't. So...

He's hot, he's fun, he's got this enticing air of contentedness about him. Plus he's into me; he basically just offered me sex. Imagine for a moment if you were single. This would be the best night of your damn life. If...

It's that happiness, that sense of fulfillment, that idea of being in the right place at the right time that I've been searching for all these months. All my damn life. He's got it all. He' so in control that he can afford to be reckless and fun. Damn it, I can't believe I'm really thinking this. (Can I?) I want him.

You've got a boyfriend. You're happy together.

Happy?

Stable? Okay. Loving? Sure. Happy?

Sort of.

He hasn't ever wronged you. He hasn't ever done anything disrespectful to you. His only crime is not igniting your mind at every waking moment. Not being anything more than great.

You could be with him forever. Get married some day. Get a house. Live out your life and get along. There's nothing wrong with that. That's all right. That's great.

It's just not...

It's just, well, it's not...

It's not a plasma fire lighting up the sky and burning a hole through space and time from now until eternity.

It's not a star going supernova.

(What makes you think Jack will be any different?)

(What makes you think that what you're searching for even exists?)

(What makes you think that it isn't your fault that your relationship is only ever amazing? Never spectacular. Never enlightening. Never...)

What makes you think going home and changing nothing will do a damn thing to help you?

Isn't it better to strive for the improbable than settle on the ever there?

Or...

"It's not that." I reach across the table and rest a paw over one of his. Now it's Jack's turn to look surprised. "You're just so fucking perfect I can barely believe you're saying this stuff to me."

"Ooh, now that's a little better. Tell me then Tyler, what makes me perfect. And I'm not accepting any half assed answers."

"The way you look so happy and energized at every moment. This whole time since I met you I haven't seen you give off anything other than warmness. Even when you thought I was straight and got embarrassed, even when you got annoyed at me for not opening up, you never really lost your cool. You kept talking, stayed polite, didn't get distant. It's amazing. You're amazing."

He's speechless for a second. He taps a finger over his muzzle as his eyes search mine.

"That wasn't the answer I was expecting."

"Did I pass the test?"

"I want you naked in my bed right now if that's what you're asking."

"What?"

"I know that's what you were asking."

"You're mad."

"A mad genius."

"Why are you always right?"

"It's another one of my excellent qualities."

"Ah, you have so many It's hard to remember them all."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," he flutters his eyelids.

"Everywhere?" I ask, tiling my head and grinning.

"Well, almost everywhere." He clears his throat, sits up in his chair and takes another gulp of his coffee. "Let's get back to the original point. What do you get up to when you're not having coffee in a fast food restaurant at two AM? And no more bullshit answers if you want some of this." He gestures generally towards his whole body.

"Okay, okay..." I take a drink. It's getting close to empty already. Time moves fast. "I'll start with the obvious I suppose. I go to work, I don't do anything particularly interesting right now. Just working an office job with dreams of publishing a novel. On that note I spend a lot of my free time writing."

"What incredible revelations you're dealing me today Tyler." Jack says with a smirk.

"Hey, I said I'd start with the obvious. Anyway, moving on, hm... Well this is the issue really. There's not much more to me. I'm not the most exciting person in the world."

"Come on, that's no way to show off to a potential mate, is it?" His voice is laced with a playful purr.

"Well let's see... I read, I play video games, I chat with friends. Typical, slightly lonerish, writer stuff." I pause, and look into his eyes. "I'm not doing too well at this impressing you thing am I?"

He laughs, takes the last gulp of his coffee and shakes his head.

"You're doing fine, you don't need to be so self conscious. Now, tell me what games you're into, maybe we could play online together some time."

For a few more minutes, while I finish up my drink, we sit and chat about games, films and other normal day to day things. It's almost enough to make me forget what exactly I'm doing here and what time it is and who I'm with. It's not perfect escapism but it at least helps me relax.

I've made a series of choices that have led me here, whether they were the right decisions is something I'm not going to worry about quite yet. Future me can worry about that. Present me can stare at Jack and imagine him naked. Mm, much better.

"All right, that's enough." Jack says suddenly.

"What? That's enough what?"

"I got it. The little more I was talking about earlier." He beams at me and stands up, signalling for me to get up too. He heads towards the exit. I hurriedly stand and follow after him, totally bewildered.

"The little more? What does... Oh... Oh!" He pushes open the door and heads out into the dark and the cold, early morning air. I do my best to keep up. "You said you wanted to know me a little more before letting me, uh... get my paws all over you."

"Ah, so you have been paying attention, good otter."

His last words almost make me wag my tail; I have to mentally remind myself that I'm not a canine.

"So where are you taking us?"

"Back to my apartment. My flat mate will probably be in, but for the amount of times I've heard him fucking some girl in the middle of the night..." Jack half turns to me as he's walking, mimes a thrusting motion and an effeminate yelp. He laughs, turns back and keeps walking. "He isn't going to complain about us, don't worry."

"I'm surprised you aren't the one waking him up every night, I mean, have you seen your ass?"

"Are you calling me a slut?" He asks accusatorily. This time I see through it, no more being startled at every little provocative comment.

"Of course I am. You're taking me home with you after only a few hours aren't you?"

"You know me too well already. Heh, well I suppose it's mostly to do with the fact that I don't really have any gay friends. I'm not really a part of that gay scene, you know? It can be so hard to find a gay guy who wants a little more than just sex from you, when you don't even know where to look."

"You're assuming I'm in this for more than sex?"

"Hey, you met me by joining our writing group and you've already committed to meet up with us again. Plus you're awkward enough that I don't think you could handle a one night stand, and you care about writing enough that I don't think you'll want to stop going to our group. You're in this for more."

"You know me too well already." It's true. There's already this rapport between us that I so rarely develop with people. Something about him tears down the barriers I tend to set between me and the rest of the world. It's not just how sexy he is, or how funny, or how interesting, it's more... every moment I've spent with him has been vibrant, exciting.

"Well then, if you aren't against the idea then you can follow me home and see what two young men can find to do alone together in the middle of the night."

A strange feeling washes over me, it's as if my mind were split in two. It's like there's one version of me who's eagerly following the feline home and another that's sort of watching from third person in horror as the otter in front of him makes a joke out of the life he's created. But perhaps that life was already a joke.

Enough debating with myself.

Do whatever feels right.

Don't think about your life before tonight, or the consequences, or the feelings you're going to hurt. You have emotions of your own. You have a life of your own.

Damn it.

That's always been my problem: over thinking everything, making decisions based on technical merit over emotional want and need. There's so much more to life than safe. There's so much more to experience than secure.

That failure to take any turning offered up to me, that inertia, that's what's been driving me crazy. That's the cause of this displacement, this dissatisfaction. This could be a chance to break free.

"So how close by do you live then?" I ask.

"Only a few blocks away, I'm pretty central," he says, looking over his shoulder at me. "How about you, how far away do you live?"

I wave noncommittally in the direction of my home and stammer out a response.

"Oh not so far, maybe about, uh, thirty minutes walk."

"Maybe you could take me round there next time. I wonder what you get up to all on your own."

All I can respond with is nervous laughter.

Maybe I haven't thought this through. What exactly could the future look like between us? I can't keep lying to him, lying to my boyfriend, lying to myself that it's all going to be all right.

Stop it. Stop over thinking this.

But...

No. Stop it.

"Ooh, do I sense sheepishness in that laughter. I bet you're a real slob."

"Well, I'm not too bad. I keep everything in a decent state."

"Ah, so it's something else. Is it that you have have draws stuffed full of fetish gear?" He asks offhandedly.

"No! What?"

"That's a shame." He laughs. It's such a gorgeous sound. Full to the brim with beams of warmth and a bright light. He makes the night feel like a Summer's day. "We're here."

He stops us outside an apartment block, and after fumbling for his keys, he lets me in with a sweeping arm motion that made it seem as if he were unveiling the most anticipated hot-new-thing of the year. I follow him up a staircase to his apartment where he slows down a little to take this second unveiling a little more slowly; sidling up to the door and slipping his key in slowly, glancing over his shoulder at me with a look that exudes a delightful mix of well earned confidence and childish excitement.

He bends over while he starts to turn the key, which he turns as slowly as he can manage, gently swaying his ass and wagging his tail as he does so. I'd be a lying if I said I'm paying attention to the key. I'd also be lying if I said I wasn't getting hard all over again.

Fuck, I'm horny. I want to give in to that feeling. Hell, I need to. No more over-thinking.

I take firm hold of his hips and grind my crotch against his ass, he pushes back into me and lets out a pleasured little moan.

"Ah, so you have some spark in you after all? I knew it." He finishes unlocking the door and pushes it open, turning around swiftly and physically pulling me inside, shoving me against his hallway's wall. He puts a finger to his muzzle and leans over to pull the door closed before settling his attention firmly on me.

He reaches his arms around me, pulling himself in close, his paws at my butt. Our mouths open against each other, our tongues collide and converse in their own subtle language of dance. We explore one another and taste one another in a moment of uninterrupted passion.

When he does pull back it's only for a second. Jack wisely uses that time to wrench his shirt off and throw it haphazardly to the ground. He comes back for more. My paws wander over his body. Feeling his chest, his back, his headfur, his ears, his ass, his crotch, his tail. Mid kiss I realize I'm being pulled through the apartment, soon enough we're in his bedroom.

Somewhere, moments later, in a haze of sex driven emotion and instinct I find myself lying on Jack's bed. He pulls away again, this time his tongue doesn't join mine quite so readily. I already miss it.

He crawls back a pace or two atop his mattress and works at my belt. I throw off my coat and shirt and stare at the feline. His bare chest rises and falls at a fast, adrenaline fueled pace as he stares at my quickly descending jeans. His paw is at my underwear covered cock in no time. He strokes at my hard shaft and lets out a satisfied hum at getting what he wants.

He kneels up and looks at me, shoving his own jeans down and wriggling them off while on top of the bed. Somehow he makes the awkward motion look natural, as if the universe itself were conspiring to make him look like the most incredibly sexy and serene being in existence.

"You don't know how much I needed this. Hanging out with nerdy straight people for most of my spare time didn't do much for my sex life. Who would have guessed?" He says, climbing over me, his bare body against mine, our only clothing left on us is our underwear, feeling one another's hard cock pressed against each other.

"Hey, it worked out eventually." I whisper softly into his ear. I slip a paw into his underwear and squeeze one of his perfectly shaped buttcheeks. He lets out a little squeak and opens his muzzle around mine once again. Fuck. That feeling comes rushing back. If I could live in this kiss forever you can fucking bet your life I would.

I bring my other paw down to try and wrench off his underwear. Jack comes up for air and giggles, then gets off the bed, ready for the reveal of that gorgeous cock and ass I've been daydreaming about for the last few hours, if you can call it daydreaming at this hour. My breathing is short. I feel more excited than I've felt in years, and just a little anxious.

He completes his nakedness with one smooth motion. His cock springs up with a pearl of precum already forming at its tip; it's a mouthwatering sight. Before I can fully take in the beauty that's in front of me, and commit it directly to memory, his paws reach my underwear, tearing them from my body with a voracious hunger.

Then we're both free from our clothing and he gets back onto the bed, then on top of me, straddling my chest, kneeling over me. His firm cock lays along my lower belly and his ass hovers teasingly close to my hard member.

"I know you can't wait to get in there," he says, wiggling his butt just above my dick, lightly brushing the tip of my cock every few motions. It feels so incredibly sensual it's driving me crazy in anticipation. "But first..." His voice trails off, he brings a paw up behind my head and lifts it up a little so that I'm staring at his cock. "I think I deserve some service."

I stare up into his eyes and he meets my gaze unwaveringly. He's serious.

There's the little voice in the back of my mind; this irritating feeling that...

But the feline's right: he deserves some service and I'm not about to decline. I'm hard and horny as hell. I lick my muzzle, ready to taste his cock. The feline repositions himself over me so that his dick is less than an inch away from my mouth. I taste his tip with an adventurous tongue cleaning it from a glistening drop of precum.

Jack exhales and gives off a satisfied hum as I take his whole cock into my muzzle and get to work. His paw is at the back of my head guiding my movements as I glide back and forth on his dick. My tongue does it's best to explore his member, to taste and tease every part of it.

He tastes so different than my b...

Not the right time.

Jack rocks his hips against my maw, letting out the cutest little grunts I've ever heard as he goes at it. I barely need to move my head any more as the feline fucks my muzzle hard, all I have to do is stay steady and work my tongue overtime. At times I have to concentrate to fight back my gag reflex, but I'm in love with every moment. It's been so long since I've been through this exploration, passion and excitement with somebody. Oh fuck I missed this.

From his jagged breathing and rapidly loudening moans I can tell he's getting close. I grab his ass with both paws, causing him to let out a little squeak and break pace mid thrust, if only for a moment. He stares down at me, panting in pleasure and he manages to form a sentence between exasperated breaths.

"This where you thought you'd be at three thirty AM?" He pauses a moment. "I'll take your cock-mouthed silence for an absolutely. Fuck I'm glad I met you. You give a better blow job than you look like you would, and you look like you'd give a damn good blowjob." His voice fades away as he becomes engrossed in his movements and we lose ourselves to the pleasure of the moment.

I taste a little spurt of the feline's precum and it sends a shudder of delight through my body. I want to drink a full load of it so damn much. I squeeze his buttcheeks again to cheer him on as he pumps his cock down my throat, his thrusting speeds up and I just lay back and take his dick like the good fag I am.

"Oh, Tyler..." His voice is uneven and erratic, he can barely contain or control his body or emotions. "I'm gonna..."

His thrusts become jerky, losing their steady pace but retaining all the same passion and force. Another thrust. God, his cock tastes good. Another thrust. Another. Then, with a moan of absolute triumph and bliss Jack is filling my muzzle with thick spurts of his cum.

I make sure not to let a single drop of it go to waste, tasting it and savoring it as he pumps my mouth full, only swallowing once his cock has completely finished with its glorious climax. Fuck, he tastes good. With my mouth still wrapped around his member I give every part of it a thorough clean with my well practised tongue before finally letting him slip his cock free. I take a well earned, deep breath of fresh air.

"Damn Tyler..." Jack says alongside heavy panting that kind of makes him sound like a canine, the juxtaposition can't help but make me smile. "You know your way around a dick."

"I'm glad I could be of some decent service at least." I say. He giggles and I give a quick slap to his ass. He makes a gorgeous little yelp, then pushes my paws off his rump and repositions himself further down the bed, so that his ass is once again hovering just over my cock. My paws move to his hips. "My turn to see your skills in action."

"Ooh, I hope I can impress. Just give me a minute to catch my breath." He says, I smile and nod. I can wait, even if my dick is yelling at me to just hurry up and get in there.

In the momentary quiet of Jack's recovery there's a creaking sound outside the room, then pawsteps coming closer and closer towards it. They stop just outside the door.

Jack leans down, then puts a paw either side of my head so that he's on all fours with his ass up in the air and his emerald eyes are looking down into mine. He whispers: "It's my housemate... Don't worry, he just likes being the center of attention. He'll moan about the sex, I'll remind him he's a hypocrite and he'll go to sleep with headphones on." I manage to keep my volume down, but I have to laugh at that. "He's just a drama queen really, he likes making his presence felt."

A voice, groggy from sleep, yet somehow still boisterous and mischievous drifts in from beyond the door. "Oh please don't stop on my account. You know I love to listen to your buttfucking."

"Ha, the buttfucking hasn't even begun." Jack retorts, then his eyes dart to me and he licks the tip of my nose between thoughts. "Oh, and I swear you're getting gayer by the day."

There's something about that...

"Maybe you're rubbing off on me. Seriously though it's half three in the morning, just saying. Next time come back here and fuck earlier. You know I'm at work tomorrow. Okay this may be a little hypocritical, but... Anyway you two enjoy yourselves, I'm gonna go back to bed and listen to music. On high volume. With headphones."

Maybe I've heard that, no, I've definitely heard that...

The pawsteps start up again as Jack's housemate shuffles back across the hallway to his own room.

Hell, I've definitely heard his voice before today, but where?

"Hm. Less arguing than I thought, he really must be tired." Jack giggles, his attention returns to me. He gets back on his knees and looks down from above. "I'm not though."

His housemate's door opens and closes with an unhurried thud. I hesitate on my response.

I know him. The housemate. I know that voice.

"Something wrong?" Jack asks after a few seconds of my quiet distractedness.

"Oh, it's just..."

Fuck.

Oh fuck...

I know who it is.

It's a work friend of... of my boyfriend's. I've seen him at social gatherings a few times. Had a couple conversations with him. Decent guy. He really gets along with...

Fuck. What the fuck am I doing? No. Seriously. What the fuck am I doing?

My breathing speeds up, becomes shallower. I'm beginning to panic. I do all I can to suppress it, to try and concentrate on anything else other than... Other than what the fuck I'm doing right now. Oh god.

Deep breath.

"Yeah, uh... Jack?"

"What is it Tyler?" His expression changes, he's frowning. He looks worried, no, that's not quite right, he looks weary. As if in the back of his mind he was expecting everything to somehow go wrong from the beginning.

"I, uh..." I what? What the hell am I doing here? What the fuck have I done? I don't even really know Jack and I gave him a blowjob. I can still taste his cum. What the fuck am I doing? I scrunch my eyes closed.

How could I ever possibly think...? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Shit, Tyler, what's up?" He moves off of me, lays beside me and lays an arm over me softly, lightly brushing his tail down my side.

Tell him the truth. Let him judge you for the scum you are. Then he'll tell his flat mate, and he will tell... And you'll deserve every fucking thing that comes your way.

No. Come on. You made a mistake. A really fucking awful mistake. Just get up, make an excuse, walk away and do your best to forget this ever happened.

What about the writing group? It was really helping, meeting people and spending time with a group of them that you could actually relate to. What about... What about Jack? He's gorgeous, he's alluring, he's funny, his cum tastes great, he likes you and...

My mind feels like it's tearing itself apart.

It's wrong. All of this is wrong. You can't do this shit. You can't devalue somebody just because you're feeling a little depressed. Fuck. You can't devalue somebody you're supposed to be in love with.

I need to work all of this out. None of this impulsive bullshit. I need to get out of here and go home. If I don't tell anybody else I need to tell him... He needs to know I made this mistake. Then I can move on from there.

My stomach churns. I feel tense. I can feel every damning second wash over me like a barrage of tidal waves. I need to speak before all that's left of me is rubble.

"Jack..." Fuck. I can feel my racing heartbeat. I can hear it too.. Jack's unreasonably cute, worried expression doesn't make me feel a damn bit better. I almost feel like I'm about to throw up. "I just realized I can't stay."

"What, why? Did my housemate take you out of the mood? He won't intrude again I guaran-"

"That's not it. It' only that..." I run a paw through my headfur and close my eyes. Stay calm. You fucked up. Just get out of here and think about the rest later. "I just remembered I have a job interview in, fuck, it must be less than six hours by now. I need to get home." Every word is a lie. It makes me feel uneasy, dirty, wrong. This whole fucking situation does. This isn't like me. What's gotten into me?

"Oh shit." Jack says, frowning deeper now. His expression is resigned, disappointed. I can't tell if he believes my story or not, but at least he's not questioning it up front. After a second a glint of hope returns to his eyes, and he adorns a playful grin. "You could sleep here if you like, seems like a waste of time trudging back home at this point, especially considering tonight was just starting to get interesting." He shrugs. "But if you want every moment of sleep you can get, just say the word and we don't have to do anything else. This is only our first night together, we have plenty of time to explore."

Our first night together? The world goes cold. Suddenly I'm suppressing a shiver. I've wormed my way into a position where whatever I do next I'm hurting somebody. I've lead somebody on. Somebody that I care about.

Perhaps sensing my hesitation Jack continues on. "As for a change of clothes, you can jot home when you wake up or borrow something from my housemate. Okay it's not the most practical idea in the world, but it has some advantages, I'm sure you'd agree." It occurs to me that I should probably laugh, so I do. It's soft and short lived, but Jack seems satisfied. Looking into his wide, accepting, cheerful eyes makes me feel even more awful. I don't know what I want any more, but what I've done here is wrong. That little fact is hitting me hardest of all. This whole night extended from a bullshit pretense. I need to leave.

"Thanks for the offer, really, but I need to get home. I'm so sorry about this, I must seem so awkward..."

"No, it's fine." He says. His every kind word and his caring, assuring tone of voice makes me want to break down into tears. "You just got a little carried away, it's no crime."

Hell. If I'm not careful I really am going to cry.

Yeah, that's right.

I'll feel sorry for myself, as if I'm the one who's been wronged.

"Thanks Jack, for everything." I pause, wonder what else to say, can't think of anything and instead get up off the bed and locate my clothes.

"Ah, it's fine." He says after a moment, he's sat on the edge of the bed at this point, watching me get dressed. From his body language - the stiff movements, the way that at one point he opens and closes his mouth without saying a word - he seems conflicted. He must be disappointed, yet he's not entirely demoralized. He doesn't look heartbroken or anything, just... sad. I feel awful. "I was looking forward to it, but I'm sure there'll be time for that in the future." He smiles, evidently deciding that he'd like to end tonight as positively as possible, and he purrs.

It's amazing how he can return to that complete warmth and energy that attracted me in the first place at a moment's notice. The sound of his purr is so delicate and contented that, despite everything, it makes my heart flutter. Am I really this weak? Well, judging from tonight I'd answer with a resounding yes.

How am I even supposed to respond to him? Lie? Tell the truth? I honestly can't figure out which one is worse right now. Come to think of it, what is the truth? What do I want? That old inertia propelling me forever onward through mediocrity and a dreadful sense of paradise lost. Wasting my potential every moment I spend doing something I don't love, being with somebody I don't love, just because it would be too hard to admit to myself that the life I've been living is not enough.

Or is that just the paranoid ramblings of somebody who spends too much time inside, and inside his own head? My partner brings me happiness and strength and I lash out and say it's not enough, he has to solve all my life problems too. He has to burn like a star going nova every moment of his existence. But who really does that? Honestly? We all have those moments of darkness. We all live in that space where our true potential is just outside of the event horizon, but we're already past the point of no return and being pulled everlastingly towards the black hole.

We sit in our private places silently thinking, over and over, about how much better we should and could be. Our minds lurking in those dark places between self defeating hatred and thoughtless rage, never truly coming into the light and burning with it; or if we do, we do it only for a moment.

Fuck this.

Whether this is some revelation or rehashed realization, I'm not sure it even matters. We make mistake after mistake in an endless loop hoping one of them will accidentally push us towards the path of progress. Or we don't change a damn thing and become contented with our meager, unfulfilled existence. Or is that just me?

You burn bright, you burn out, or you never burn at all. That's the way I see it. That's all there is to it. Or is that just me?

Is all of this just me? The fucked up lazy, cheating failure I am. (You can't think like that.)

This whole night is just a reaction to dissatisfaction. If I want to burn bright (and I do) then where do I go from here? The only question I was ever really asking is the question I can't answer.

And then I'm fully dressed and I haven't said a word to him.

He's gone back to frowning. Fuck. I feel so terrible for him. From his perspective I'm being cold and distant with no provocation. I must look like a real bastard. And I am.

"Sorry. My mind's wandering a little. I can't believe I let this interview sneak up on me like that. I'm such an idiot." I say, shaking my head. Hoping he'll buy it. I somehow doubt it.

He puts on a muted smile that's tinged with a little cynicism, although somehow he has still has an air of acceptance about him. Through everything I can't take my eyes off his naked body, even now. (Even now?) He points over to his bedroom door, gets up and walks me over to it.

"Oh!" He says, twisting around, then hurrying across the room, bending down to show off his shapely butt and scrabbling to pick up his phone which had fallen to the floor in a heap of his clothes.

"You're doing well at tempting me to stay." I say without really thinking. The words just come out of my mouth before I can consciously decide whether or not to say them. Regret sets in immediately. Not that I wouldn't love to stick my cock deep into that... Fuck. Fuck. I'm hard all over again. No.

All this thinking, all this philosophizing: at times it's just idle small talk compared to that primal, instinctive urge for sex, closeness and togetherness. It's like my mind and body are entirely separate entities with very different desires that somehow occupy the same space.

He stands up brandishing his phone with a significantly brightened expression as if it were the transition between deep twilight and a Summer's morning. So, he does love the teasing. Not that it matters. I don't even know if I'm going to see him again.

Even imagining that I might never see him again scares the living hell out of me. I'm so totally fucked. What exactly was I trying to achieve here? To alienate myself from my friends and from my lover? Or did I really see something different in Jack? Something better?

"I got your number down earlier." Oh fuck. He gestures his phone towards me, turning it so that I can see the screen. It's set to a page displaying his own contact number. "You never took mine down so here you go. Hey, send me a text after your interview and tell me how it goes."

I can't just say no. I mean, I can, but, I can't, you know? Fuck. All I wanted to do was break this inertia, do something different. I didn't want to eviscerate everything I had been before and leave my life in ruins. I take out my phone and take down his number. Every key push is a stab in my boyfriend's back.

I have to get home. (After I take down this number). Damn everything. This isn't like me. (Isn't it? Who exactly are you? Do you even know?) I save him as a contact. He looks up at me hopefully, unsure at what to make of my sudden departure, but happy that I've at least been cooperative.

"So, uh..." I start and fail to finish.

"So, uh, I'll see you soon," he says, teasingly copying my sheepish tone.

I nod at him and do my best to not look completely and utterly lost, torn and borderline depressed. I shove my phone back in my pocket and turn to leave, opening his bedroom door. Taking a step out. Another. My heartbeat is deafening me.

"Bye," I croak out, only half turning my head so that I can't even really see him as I exit his life and push him out of mine. (Forever?)

He doesn't respond, at least for a moment, but I hear the light pitter-patter of his footfalls as he trails behind me while I walk over to the apartment's entrance. (Exit.)

"Hey, Tyler?" He says eventually. His voice is airy, ponderous, innocent.

By now I'm at the door, my paws are at the handle and locking mechanism, ready to turn and let me out of this madness I plunged myself into.

"Yeah?"

"I know there's a lot you're not telling me." He says the words with a sense of dry assertiveness that betrays his perception and confidence at once; as if what he was saying were so obvious that it was barely even worth mentioning.

"Oh?"

"I can see it in the way you hold yourself, the way you look at me, the way you speak. There's a darkness behind it all. A kind of... sadness and insecurity."

I let out a short, dark laugh.

"Am I really so dreadfully obvious to figure out?" I turn to look at him fully now

"It's easy to recognize something you've seen in yourself before. If you're depressed, or there's something terrible happening to you personally or to somebody you care about, or if you feel like you're not in control of your life... I've been there Tyler. I'm not saying I'm some miracle worker, or even an expert really. I'm just... I guess what I'm saying is that I want to help. I want to see you again. I want to be with you again."

I can't take this. Oh god I don't want to cry. I don't deserve to feel sorry for myself.

Oh god. I fucking love him.

Oh god. I'm complete fucking cheating scum.

"Jack."

"Yes?"

For the first time since I've met him he looks vulnerable. He's visibly shaking with the personal significance of what he's said and with the power of what all of this means to him. He looks scared, unsure of himself. He's wondering whether he said the right thing, did the right thing or fucked it all up. I want to hold him in my arms and never let him go. I want to tell him everything: tell him how amazing he is, how everything he just said brought me even closer to him, how his eyes sparkle in a different and yet equally beautiful way whenever he's in a different kind of light. I want to say so much and to do so much with him. And yet, for all of that, for everything...

"I have to go."

I turn the handle, pull the door open, step through and swing it closed behind me without another word. I'm finding it hard to breathe. I need air. I half walk, half run down the corridor, down the stairs and out of the building. It's like the whole world is closing in on me all over again. Fuck.

Claustrophobia. I'm off the rails and into the cell. No more inertia. No more destination. No more anything.

I take deep breath after deep breath of the freezing morning air.

Fuck this.

What have I done?

I have to get home. To see him.

Maybe if I get in bed and pretend I never left, then it could be like none of this ever happened. He doesn't need to know. Oh god.

More breathing. My head is in my paws. I'm slumped against the outside wall of Jack's apartment building. He must hate me.

What the fuck did any of this even achieve?

Maybe the moral of the story is that I'm an unredeemable bastard, and that's all there is to it.

As if. As if I could go home to him and pretend none of this ever happened. As if. As if I could live with myself after this. As if I could live with the lies. As if. (As if?)

More breathing.

I'm walking home now.

Step by step and second by second ever closer to that decision.

What do I do now?

Truth or lie? Long term lover or momentary fling?

Burn bright? Burn out? Or never burn at all?

All this philosophy, ethics and ponderous bullshit all boils down to that one basic question:

What do I do now?

When I'm slipping my own key into my own lock and stepping into my own home I still don't have an answer.

When I'm climbing into bed next to him I still don't have an answer.

When he stirs from his sleep just enough to whisper that he loves me...

That's when I start crying.

I'm quiet at first. I don't want to disturb him any more. I can't. I get back up and leave the room, head into our bathroom and stare at an otter's face in the mirror, before really letting it out. Oh god.

When my phone starts ringing and I look at the screen...

And it's Jack...

And...

And...

...

Oh god.