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Jiffy

Chapter 4

Joel

“We need to talk."

The four most dreaded words in any relationship - both current and previous. Having been on the receiving end of those words more than once, Joel knew all too well how dreadful and anxiety-inducing they could be. Somehow, the fact that Liam had sent along visual evidence made it so much worse.

“What does he want!?" Shaw exclaimed, staring at the phone and its screen.

Lightning-fast, Joel reached out and yanked the device out of Shaw's paws, holding it away from the bear. Shaw instinctively scrambled for it but Amos was suddenly there, catching the panicked ursine in a tight grip.

“Easy there, buddy," rumbled the dragon. “Your eggs are getting overcooked."

Shaw blinked a few times and then glanced over to the electric stove where his scrambled eggs were starting to gain the consistency of rubber. Panic re-entered his eyes and those cute little green orbs darted back and forth between the stove and his pilfered phone. Joel kept the phone away, backing off a few steps just to be sure he wasn't about to be pounced upon.

“He… He saw those posts," Shaw whimpered, hanging his head low. Then, there was a flash of frustration in his eyes and his lips peeled back in a snarl. “What? Is he stalking me now?"

Joel reviewed the contents of the message. The picture came from the official JACKED account. Unless Liam was somehow capable of scanning every picture on the internet for anyone vaguely resembling the green-eyed, bespectacled polar bear in front of him, then there was no way the bear's ex could have been stalking Shaw.

No, there's a more likely answer.

“I don't think he was hunting you down," he said, holding up the phone for Shaw to see but still outside of reach. “This looks like it was taken from someone else's phone. Maybe Killian's. It was uploaded to the bar's account. The more likely answer is that since he lives around here, I'm guessing, he was cruising the gay hotspots and saw it on our page."

“That's worse!" Shaw cried, slumping forward. Amos caught him, propping the bear up and holding him up into a tight hug. The bear sobbed into the dragon's broad, bowling ball shoulders. “I haven't answered him since the breakup and now he sees me celebrating 'Fratboy Fridays' at JACKED! He must think I'm such a slut!"

“No one is calling you a slut," Amos cooed, rubbing Shaw's back gently. “We don't know what he wants to talk about."

“What else could he want to talk about?"

Drawing on his bartending experience, Joel said, “Could be that he's happy that you found someone and moved on." His statement stunned Shaw and brought the bear's eyes up to meet him. Offering an encouraging smile, he went on. “Maybe he wants to apologize. Could be that he just wants his shit back." Holding up the phone and waving it lightly in the air, he finished with, “It's easy to assume the worst in people. But you don't know what you don't know. So don't freak out just yet."

Desperation flickered through Shaw's expression. “You don't know Liam like I do!" The bear reached up, gripping the sides of his head with his paws and digging his claws into his fur. “He has this… uncanny ability to see through the truths in people's intentions! He's just really intuitive! I bet he knows that I'm on the rebound! That's why he sent me this!"

Joel raised a finger. “Firstly, ouch." He turned on the sass to ten and, with a limp-wristed wave said, “I don't mind being the rebound but you don't have to say it aloud. Secondly, let the fucker stew. He made it clear he didn't want anything to do with you. That you weren't enough for him. Take it from a bartender." He made a slicing motion through the air. “You've got to know when you got to cut someone off."

“Yeah, little buddy," chimed in Amos. “Talk to him to get the closure you need. I mean, did you actually say you were broken up?" Shaw's brow furrowed and he lowered his gaze, deep in thought. The bear's features twisted a few times as he clearly fought through the painful memories of that awful evening. Then Joel felt Amos' gaze upon him. “Did you define your relationship?"

Ouch. Low blow, Coach.

Joel threw the dragon a look that told him this was not the time to go digging a hole and defining borders with Shaw. The bear clearly needed all the company he could get to make it through this breakup. If Liam had indeed made off with the entirety of the bear's friend group, then Shaw was going to enter this conversation outnumbered and outgunned. Given that Shaw had also adopted the hermit lifestyle for two weeks, Liam had all the opportunity to sow discord and lies throughout his friends to turn them against the polar bear.

Shaw would need reinforcements.

That gives me an idea…

He turned the phone back to himself and began tapping away at the keys. The tip-tap noises the phone made as he keyed in his response brought Shaw out of his reverie.

“Wait…" blurted the bear. “What are you doing? What are you saying?"

“I'm asking him where he wants to meet," Joel responded curtly and with a matter-of-factly tone.

“What!? No!" Again Shaw tried to lunge for him but this time, Amos did nothing to hold him back. The bulky dragon clearly did not approve. Joel, however, was quite quick despite his bulk. He danced around the bear and shuffled to the other side of the kitchen island. “Give me back my phone! This is an invasion of my privacy!"

There was a soft, musical swooping noise that came with him sending the message. It only took a second before Liam responded.

“You're not going into this alone," said the bull, typing out an response. “He wants to meet today at a place called Chupacabra Cafe today. I'm saying you meet him Tuesday."

Shaw paused. “Why Tuesday?"

“So you can take control," Amos supplied, arms folded and a smirk thrown in Joel's direction. “He contacted you telling you to meet where and when he wants. He's being dominating. Bro, it's like you caught the spy in your territory and then they tell you to meet on their soil to talk surrender. You've got to show some balls and take control."

“But I go back to work tomorrow…"

Joel beamed. “Even better. So we meet after work." He tapped out the response.

Shaw collapsed against the kitchen counter, one paw against his chest and the other clutching his head. “I… I can't do this. I can't face him. Not… Not until I've cleaned out my bedroom!"

Amos moved in and held him tightly. Even though they were both naked, there was nothing erotic about the scene. Shaw was hyperventilating.

“You're not going in alone," Joel said, piqued Amos interest. “And no, I'm not sending in the titan-sized dragon bodybuilder-slash-bouncer in with you to intimidate him."

No… That'd be an obvious overcompensation. Liam seems like the kind of guy that would pounce on that.

“You're not?" Amos asked, catching Shaw's attention.

“No."

That swooping noise came again. It was quite telling that Liam took a few minutes to respond as opposed to his instantaneous response to the previous question.

“Tuesday at six," he declared, tapping out a response. “And I'm sending Killian along with you."

“Why Killian?" Shaw asked, his breathing starting to slow.

“Because the picture he sent you was clearly a selfie," he answered. “It's under the hashtag 'sipselfie', you know. So it would make sense. If Liam suspects that you're on the rebound and knocking back the drinks that you never partook in while with him and he is as intuitive as you say, then having the guy whose selfie this is with you to help explain things will set him straight." He held out the phone back to Shaw. “You're not on the rebound. You're recovering from the hurt he put you through. He made you feed inadequate. That you weren't enough. So now you're trying to be more." He tilted his head slightly. “Am I right?"

Shaw reached out, grasping the phone gently in both his paws like he was taking the holy Eucharist. “I… I guess…"

“You haven't found a new boyfriend or anything like that," Joel continued. “After two weeks of recovery from the my-shit that he put you through, you are cleaning yourself up and moving on. And he should too."

The bull's tail flicked through the air in pride as he slipped in that little hint of what their relationship really was and even threw Amos a pointed look. The dragon rolled his eyes.

Shaw took a moment to regard the phone before lowering it onto the counter. “You're right…" Then firmer, he announced, “You're right!" Lifting his head to glare at Joel, he said, “He was the one that cheated on me. He doesn't get to control me!"

Proud of his progress, Joel gave a nod before turning back towards the oven. His eyes fell on the pan of eggs which were now awfully overcooked. It would be like eating a mouthful of rubber now or, worse case, dough. “How about you two sit down and I'll take care of breakfast. It'll be ready in a jiffy."

“But I -" began Shaw.

Amos wrapped a thick arm around the bear's shoulders and used that same movement to reach down and pull the phone away. “Don't worry, little buddy. I'll make sure you stay away from this cancer and keep your mind on something else." Just to prove his point, his other hand reached around Shaw's belly and snuck down to his groin. The bear was instantly alert and his cheeks turning that adorable shade of pink.

Shaw even squeaked a little.

“Something you should know about Coach Amos over there," Joel said, removing the pan of overcooked eggs from the stove top. “No matter how little sleep or how drunk you get him the previous night, he is always ready to go every morning. If you don't take him to the gym, he's going to drag you into bed for his own personal 'workout'."

The polar bear's blush began to spread throughout his body and his paws lifted up like he was surrendering. Knowing Amos, the bear was probably having a rising erection pressing up against his ass at that moment.

“Come on, my cute cola," rumbled Amos, nuzzling the bear's neck. “You said you wanted to get in shape. How about we 'warm up'?"

“Uhm…" Shaw stammered. “Oh… Okay…"

Joel turned his back to the two, a little smile on his face. It would have been a bigger smile were it not for the strange gravity that was tugging down at the corners of his lips. This… strange sensation of dissatisfaction. Like he was still missing something about this story.

All his previous hookups had all ended the same. They would fuck a few times and either drift apart or remain friends but his hookup would find that special 'someone'. These relationships would last a month at most, a week at the very least. But after the third time he slept with a guy, he was feeling satisfied. Not in a terrible sociopathic way that he had gotten his dick wet and now was ready to discard the guy for someone else. More like his curiosity was sated and now he was ready to move on from the purely physical part of the relationship to something more emotional. He was there to support his hookup into finding someone else and he loved it when they found that someone. It was both liberating for him and satisfying that he had played the part of a bartender to the best of his abilities.

But this thing with Shaw…

It's different…

He couldn't tell if he wanted to sleep with the bear more, to lick every part of his body, to nibble on his neck, to suffocate himself into the bear's ass or hold the bear in his arms or to keep helping push back against Liam.

What he could tell was that this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

The TV behind him had switched on and he could hear the two men watching some Youtube videos. He cooked up some eggs, bacon and toast. Thankfully, it seemed that as part of the cleaning frenzy the previous day, Amos had convinced Shaw to go shopping and restock his fridge and pantry. He could tell it was under Amos' influence because everything there was geared to be as nutritious while having as little calories as possible. Thinks like low fat milk, yogurt, fresh fruits and multivitamins. Shaw did not strike him as the guy that would have cared about any of that. There were a few cans of Mountain Dew at the far back of the fridge, almost completely hidden from view.

There was something about the collection, though, that gave Joel an idea.

Half an hour later, breakfast - or in this case, more of a brunch - was ready and he gathered the men at the kitchen counter.

Shaw immediately paused when he saw the glass filled with a deep red juice with ice, some form of powdered pepper around the rim and a celery stick.

“Is that…?" he began.

“A Virgin Bloody Mary," responded Joel proudly. “You didn't have any vodka so I made do." He winked at Shaw. “I figured I'd take a different approach to finding 'your drink'. Let's start with the virgin kind and if you like it, then we'll got to the 'sinful' version."

Shaw smiled a little. “So you're 'corrupting' me?"

Joel leaned down, one arm against the kitchen counter like he was back at the bar ready to serve a customer while asking, 'What're you having?'

“I'm opening your mind to new experiences."

The bear shrugged, picked up the tomato-juice-based drink, used the celery stick to stir it and then took a sip. He immediately squeezed his eyes shut and pursed his lips.

Joel's heart sank. “That's a 'no' then?"

Shaw coughed a few times and set down the drink, trying to force a smile. “It's… It's… interesting."

“It's like drinking a spicy, cold bolognese," Amos grunted, taking a little sip himself. “Without the meat, thank god." The dragon set down his own glass. “Dude, just give me the tomato juice. None of this fancy shit."

“You don't get a vote," Joel snarled.

Shaw coughed a little, his eyes tearing up a little. “It's… Uhm… A little spicy too."

“Too much cayenne," the bull sighed. He puffed out his chest. “I swear, Shaw, I am going to find you a drink you will love!"

“Just give me soda," offered the bear weakly. “That'll be enough for me."

“No!" Joel barked, slamming a fist into the table. “There is a drink out there for you! I will find it!"

The bear just smiled at him, both challenging him and comforting him at the same time.

“Thanks, Joel. I hope you do."

In that instant, there was a little flutter of satisfaction - of wholeness - that filled the older bull's chest.

And he wanted more.

Shaw

Taking two weeks off was fairly common in the world of corporate America. Even those abrupt instances like when Shaw abruptly requested some spontaneous leave and ghosted everyone in the office. Not that he was really close to anyone there. However, it felt like he was back in kindergarten going to school for the first time. The comfort of home was calling to him even as he locked the door to his apartment. Every reason in the world unlock the door and return to the warm embrace of his couch and order some Thai food was the sweet call of the siren.

But just with Odysseus and the sirens, he steeled himself, allowed himself to listen to their song but ultimately turned his back to their call. He turned and strode down the steps of his apartment building, dressed in his suit with shiny dress shoes ready for another work day.

Public transport was hell. Since he lived moderately close to the city, there was no need for a car. Everything was within walking distance and anything else could be reached with a bus or one of the many light rails running through Golden Cliff. The city was not exactly one of those enormous towns as big as New York or even as remotely well-known as Las Vegas but it was populated enough that it had its own network of public transport.

As Shaw approached the bus stop at the corner of his street, he mused on the city's history. Located in coastal region of northern California, Golden Cliff got its name for the enormous cliff side facing the east. The city itself was positioned on the coast next to the Cliff and it was a big tourist attraction to sit on the marina during sunrise and watch the sunrise and its golden rays fall upon the sheer, white cliffs turning them a radiant gold. A few wealthy celebrities had houses up the slope leading to the cliffs but most of it was a protected national park.

The approach of his bus brought him away from his daydream and he stepped onto the vehicle. It was only a short twenty-minute ride to the closest stop to his work but would have taken much longer on foot. He briefly mused getting a bike but decided he needed to take baby-steps to his fitness journey first before he started committing to something so intense.

More and more people stepped into the bus with each stop, making him feel self-conscious due to his size. Scolding words about his weight flew through his mind. Even though he remained standing and there was a myriad of seats to select from, he kept expecting people to throw him foul looks for blocking the aisles or taking up too much space.

Then Joel's voice echoed in his head.

'You don't know what you don't know.'

Upon closer inspection, that teen tiger that briefly brushed up against him and took a seat in the back was too occupied with her phone to even pay him any mind. That elderly mole who sat quietly near the front didn't even look his way. The rough looking wolf who smelled too much of scent-masking body spray was looking out the window and trying to be moody.

None of them care.

Maybe I shouldn't either…?

His stop came.

Quietly and with his head down, he left the bus. Right there, just beyond the bus stop sign, on the same corner it had always been, was the Golden Cliff Realty office. Every day of work, he would get off at this very bus stop and see the office before going to work. At around five in the evening, he would wait in front of the very same store, his back to it as he waited for his ride home and anticipating jumping online to play some games, already tasting the Pad Thai on his tongue.

This time, however, it was different.

Should I buy a house?

The shadow of Liam whispered dark truths in his ear.

'You can't afford it.'

'It'll be a drain on your finances.'

'Do you know how much effort it would be to move?'

'It's such a risk.'

'Just stay where you are. It's easier.'

Then like a shining light against Liam's darkness, Joel, resting a hand on his shoulder.

'Look at what we did!' exclaimed the imaginary bull. 'I went back to college, met up and slept with five near-total strangers and then bought a business together! Life is worth it's risks!'

The bull leaned down towards his ears. His breath alone wafted through Shaw and banished the shade that was Liam who was clinging to his other ear.

'And if it doesn't work out, we'll be here to support you. Who knows? Maybe we can open it up as a second site for JACKED.'

Shaw smiled to himself and waved away the ghost of his friend. “I'll think on it," he told himself.

Then he turned and headed to work.

That anxiety returned and grew with every step he took towards the office. What would people think now that he was back? What would they say about his mysterious and abrupt disappearance? What kind of work did he miss out on? Would he be fired for the sudden way he just took two weeks off?

Passing through the rotating doors into the office was like stepping into the deepest, frozen depths of Hell. The mild temperature of the outdoors was instantly replaced by the chilling, artificial, air-conditioned landscape of atrium that was covered in faux-marble. He stepped past the reception desk, hit the elevator call button and waited awkwardly for a minute or so before the lift finally arrived. The lack of anyone else that he recognized only increased his stress and he began worrying about nightmare scenarios where the business had actually closed and he wasn't informed because he had been on leave.

Ding!

His stop.

The elevator doors peeled open and he stepped out into the offices of Cliffside Marketing. There was some relief that the sign was still there and he saw some people through the glass doors. As he approached the doors themselves and took out his badge, there was an instant where he feared that the moment he swiped, he would get a terrible error telling him that he had been fired and access was denied.

Ding!

Green light.

He let out the breath that he was holding, pulled open the glass doors and stepped through.

“Oh!" exclaimed the receptionist, a bright, cheer equine with wild, frizzy hair. “Welcome back, Shaw! We missed you!"

Did you really…?

“Thanks Marilyn," he greeted, offered an easy smile. “Good to be back."

She threw a frown his way. Fear and anxiety returned.

He reached for his face, patting his cheeks. “Is there something on his face?"

“No…" she commented, shaking her head and offering a smile. “It's just… I've never seen you smile like that before." Realizing how that sounded, she quickly ducked her head and waved him away. “Sorry, I know that sounds bad just… I don't know. You seem refreshed. Renewed. Like… like…"

“… a weight has been lifted off my shoulders," he whispered softly. Smiling back at the receptionist, he said, “Thanks, Marilyn. I appreciate that."

He turned and headed to the office towards his cubicle.

Corporate America could not have had a more 1990's style office. Cubicles with high, gray walls sat beside together in rows. Fluorescent lights buzzed above their heads keeping everything so well-illuminated that it would have been impossible to fall asleep. The smell of generic coffee was in the air and that awful anti-scent spray that left Shaw's nose stinging whenever he passed the dispensers. With so many kinds of people in the office, scents could mingle, after all.

The janitors and maintenance staff were just finishing up their morning sweep. The humming of vacuums that were specifically designed to suck up fur and hair echoed in the hall alongside the clacking of keyboards. It was just a little before nine in the morning meaning there were few meetings held though some of his coworkers were already going through their morning rounds for their project updates.

Shaw made his way to his cubicle, sat down, set his bag down and set down his work laptop, connecting it to the dock and two monitors he had.

Time to get to work.

He wasn't even half-an-hour into logging on and checking his emails when he got his first visitor.

“Hey Shaw! Welcome back!"

He turned towards the cheery gibbon holding a cup of coffee. Smiling back, Shaw said, “Thanks Ollie." That felt so dismissive so he decided to add, “Did you get the Stellarim account?"

There was a flash of… something behind the monkey's blue eyes like he was confused for a second before he said, “Naw. They decided to go with someone a little more… local. Said our offices are too far. Stupid South Californian fucks."

“Hey now," Shaw chuckled softly, turning back to his computer. “We've got a lot of clients from south California. Also, isn't Dorothy from SoCal?"

He got to his feet , turning to his left and peering over the cubicle walls. “Dorry," he said towards the parakeet with the bright, red, painted talons. “Aren't you from South California. Anaheim wasn't it?"

She jumped when she saw him, blinking in surprise. “Uhm… Right." A little smile touched her lips. “How did you know?"

“I remember you said you always take a yearly trip to Disney with your kids. In fact, isn't it around that time? Did you want me to take care of any of your things while you were gone?"

Her eyebrows rose. “You just got back, Shaw…"

“So I've got a little bit more bandwidth." He found himself winking at her much like Joel. “How about I set up a meeting with you and we can go over handover?"

Her smile grew broader. “You are a lifesaver, Shaw. You have no idea how hard it is to let go of the accounts here."

I feel that.

“Great. I'll put something in your calendar."

Then he turned back towards Ollie. “How about we catch up at lunch? Fill me in on all the things I missed while I was gone?"

The gibbon stared blatantly. “Okay… who are you and what have you done with the perpetually tired, slouching, flat cola that we know and love?"

Shaw frowned. “I slouch…?" He shook his head and struggled to find a way to respond. Drawing inspiration from Killian, he reached into his phone and flipped to his social media feed. “I guess you could say I had an 'awakening'." He turned it towards Ollie whose eyebrows lifted.

“Whoa! You went to JACKED!?" exclaimed the gibbon. Then he gave Shaw a curious look. “You know that's a guy's gay bar, right?"

Shaw lifted an eyebrow at him. “Yes. Why?"

“Just I never seen you there before."

Now his other eyebrow lifted. “Wait… you're…?"

Ollie beamed at him, turning his coffee mug towards Shaw so that he could see the words 'I -heart- Coffee' on it with the heart being colored in the rainbow pride flag. “What do you think?"

Oh wow… I… I never knew.

“Did you just figure it out or…?" Ollie began.

“Actually, I was in a three-year-long relationship with another guy," Shaw admitted, a little blush touching his cheeks.

The gibbon's features darkened. “Was? As in…?"

“Yeah," Shaw admitted.

Wait! Why am I confessing everything to my coworkers now!?

This is grossly inappropriate workplace behavior!

But there was no stopping the flood of words that came tumbling from his muzzle.

“That's kind of the reason I dropped off the map," he mumbled. “I caught him in bed with another guy. I… I sort of needed a few weeks to come to terms with everything."

Suddenly, Dorothy's gentle voice came from behind him, making him jump. “Oooh! You poor thing! Two weeks is not enough after a three year relationship." She looked down her red, bedazzled horn-rimmed glasses at him. “You two weren't married were you?"

“Living together but not married."

“Good. Because two weeks is not nearly enough time to settle divorce. Trust me." She waved at him with her feathered hands. “Listen, let's all go to lunch. Tell me all about this asshole. My treat."

Shaw beamed and laughed softly. “Thanks, Dorry. I appreciate it."

Ollie gently punched his shoulder. “Hey, from what I can tell you got off better from it. You seem…" He tilted his head to the side. “I dunno. Happier."

I guess I learned a little something from the guys after all.

He sat back down and began trawling through his emails once more. Over the course of the day, people came in and welcomed him back to the office. Greeting them back was met with such surprise that he had to wonder exactly what kind of person he was before then. Strangely, every time he interacted with someone, a little more color came into the world.

He stopped by someone's cubicle and chatted with them briefly. After he was told about their children, he noticed the crayon drawings on her cubicle walls, adding that little splash of color to the office. When he went up to get some coffee and encountered his manager, he told about how he went hiking with his family up the cliffs. That was when he noticed that the kitchen cabinets were this gorgeous mahogany red and there were some natural plants that were arranged all over the place to add a little more color. After he left a meeting, he noticed all the colorful charts and mock-ups of advertising campaigns he had various research avenues.

The office was not this concrete gray, apocalyptic landscape that he had seen it for the past year or so. It was bright, dynamic and a living organism.

And for the first time… in a long time, he was actually glad to be at work.

Joel

Monday morning started out just like every day for Joel.

He got up a little around ten in the morning after working at the bar the previous night. Made his bed, brewed some coffee and as he let it steep and develop flavor, he made himself a bowl of yogurt and fresh fruits - blueberries and strawberries were his favorite. Mondays were his turn to be on 'Kaiju Duty' so at eleven, he met Amos at the local gym. It was leg day. As a dragon, though, Amos had more muscles to work out so he while Joel was doing squats, leg presses, calf raises and leg extensions, Amos was doing wing lifts, tail curls and wing pulls.

Draconic pride was very real.

This made their workout last an hour and a half. Not that Joel minded. He was on his feet most of the night when he was working, rushing from one customer to another while brewing drinks with as showmanship as he could manage. That meant his legs had to be as strong as possible to support his weight while maintaining muscular endurance. By the time they finished, he didn't quite feel exhausted but he knew that by tomorrow, he would be feeling all the effort he put in.

Amos opted to shower at the gym but Joel decided to go back home. Gym showers were fun in porn-scenarios but he they were also communal showers. Not the most sanitary of places. Even though he wasn't the most clean of individuals especially after one of his hookups, he drew the line at gym showers. It all went back to middle school when, having just come to his sexuality, he was afraid of showing a protruding bovine boner towards his fellow classmates.

He still remembered his dad's words when the teachers complained about him refusing to shower with the other boys.

'What? Are you some kind of faggot!?'

Yep, that was Bart Rockham. Half of that old bull's vocabulary would be considered not-politically-correct at present and the other half would leave lasting impressions on a young Joel that would shape the bull's personality - mostly guiding him to do the opposite of whatever they intended.

Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and shout 'Yes, dad. I'm a goddamn faggot'.

Then Joel remembered how much he loved lauding his multi-man sexual and emotional relationship he had with the other guys at JACKED over his father.

Bitter beginning but sweet aftertaste.

Another reason Joel liked to shower at home is that he took cold showers. It was just something he read once. It was good for muscle recovery and another hold-over from unwanted teenage boners. Cold showers were a good way to kill a libido. He returned to his apartment, stripped off his sweaty clothes, placed them in his laundry hamper and then stepped into the shower.

Good thing cold showers didn't take long to 'warm up'. Though it still caused him to flinch when the freezing waters descended upon him, the bull quickly grew accustomed to it and was quickly so clean himself of the night's grime and the morning workout. With his body temperature dropping, he was quick in the shower.

Once out and dried, he took stock of what awaited him for the rest of the day. There wasn't much to do until work that evening. Checking his phone saw a few messages on the 'Council' chat. Cash was experimenting with a new appetizer he was making - Jalapeño poppers that were deep fried in panko flakes but with some sweet chilli sauce mixed with the cream cheese to give it an Asian flair. Eric was still at work but doing his usual thing of shooting them some memes. Amos was at the gym, obviously, and Killian was getting his 'beauty sleep'.

Dorian, though.

'Need some help with these deliveries. Who-The-Fuck ordered all this shit!?'

Joel checked the date. It was near the end of the month. Monthly deliveries were due. Dorian would have a lot of boxes to load. So he tapped a quick response.

'On my way, Duo. Give me 30.'

'Thanks man. Seriously, why the fuck do we need all these strawberries!?'

They all knew the answer to that. After Harry's very pink bachelor party, they had torn through their strawberry stash. Even though they didn't need to order nearly as much to compensate, they needed to restock. Dorian just liked to complain.

Five minutes later, he was dressed in some heavy denim jeans, a dark-green tanktop and brought some heavy gloves to avoid splinters and cuts. Then he was driving off in his truck back to the bar, arriving with another five minutes to spare. He parked behind the bar where a truck was already perched and Dorian was unpacking crate after crate of produce. Though they were predominantly a bar, Cash still served some top-quality food that he cooked on the day. Nothing was ever frozen.

A point of pride for the lion.

Joel got out of his truck and headed over. The stocky shark was carrying one milk crate on each shoulder, each one filled with gallons of milk jugs. “How's it looking?"

The big fish gave him a toothy grin. “If you hadn't come along, I'd still be here by opening." He jerked his head over his shoulder. “Head on in. We got some work to do."

Much like Erick, Dorian didn't have a 'secondary'. He worked solo though he knew that if he needed it, Erick could come over in a pinch. Cash had his kitchen staff, Joel had Valentino, Killian had his backup DJ - Rowan - and Amos had two other bouncers with him. Dorian was just one of those 'manly men' who claimed he could do everything himself and tended to do so. It was rare to get him to ask for help that he hadn't asked for previously. Joel wasn't sure if it was because the shark was proud or just like routine.

Might just be because he's the youngest out of us and eager tom prove himself even though he contributes just as much as anyone else.

More even.

Joel headed into the truck and stacked a few crates of produce on top of one another. Keeping all the learnings he had picked up from Amos and Dorian, he lifted with his legs and not his back. The stack of crates wasn't too heavy but he could see how it would take Dorian a while if he was doing this himself. Not to mention they would be charged by the delivery company for keeping the truck there for longer than expected.

After a few trips, he was sweating again and now he was starting to feel the soreness from his legs again. In retrospect, maybe leg day and delivery day did not compliment one another. But he didn't complain. The minute he did, Dorian would be on him like… like…

… like a shark smelling blood in the water.

At around two in the afternoon, they had the truck completely unpacked. The rabbit driver had stopped his grumbling about being late for other deliveries and after signing the manifesto, was off to his next shipment. It was about time for a break. The rest of the main crew - mostly Cash and Killian - would start arriving in an hour or so and they could help with the unpacking. They could then do their prep for a few hours before opening at 5:30 when people were generally starting to get off work.

It was all part of Killian's keen business sense. They could open for lunch but JACKED was a party bar - a place where gay guys could find sanctuary and be themselves amongst guys of all shapes and sizes. Profits would be minimal during the day as most people would have to run off back to their jobs. At around five in evening, though, as people were getting off work, they would open their doors and everyone was welcome to enjoy music, meals and men. Weekdays they usually closed at midnight but Fridays and Saturdays, they were open up until two in the morning - though the kitchen closed by midnight.

The hours were long but if there was one piece of advice that Joel had picked up from his father and actually taken to heart, it was that if he worked a job that he liked, he never really worked a day at all.

And he loved working at JACKED.

He and Dorian finished bringing the last of the produce into the kitchen. Joel grabbed some leftovers from the kitchen - specifically set out by Cash for them and never to be served to the customers - and heated them up. This was part of their 'meal prep' that Amos absolutely touted all the time. Today was a hearty fettuccine carbonara dish. How Cash managed to make a sauce that didn't curdle or clump up after reheating in the microwave was beyond him.

As he slurped up some of the noodles, he said, “That cat knows how to cook."

“I keep saying," Dorian said with his trademark toothy grin, his filed dentures flashing. “He should open an actual goddamn restaurant. He can hire a head chef here to keep things floating while he pushes his career as an actual chef."

“Yeah but you know he's allergic to ambition," Joel snickered. “Anything even remotely close to being seeing as 'super successful' that could make him a millionaire is like his Kryptonite."

“We all got our baggage. Most of it is daddy issues." Dorian's grin faded slightly as he toyed with some of the ham cubes in the pasta with his fork. “You know my brother is getting married."

“Which one?" Joel asked bitterly.

“Fucked if I know. I know I just got an invite and they called me 'Guppy' in it." Dorian rolled his eyes. “Wasn't even in an e-vite. They took the time to print out a goddamn, fine-printed letter and physically write 'To Guppy' on it. Pretty fancy calligraphy though."

Being the shortest of the JACKED boys, Dorian's venture into developing his body and amateur bodybuilding alongside Amos only made him look shorter than he really was. The rest of his family were 6-foot titans and took no pains to hide their heritage as sharks by wearing dentures that made their teeth appear flat. They were beasts. Intimidating beasts that moved in shivers - Joel recently learned that a group of sharks were called a 'shiver'. They often picked on Dorian for his short stature and even more now that he was jacked. Even though he could life two or three of his ten brothers with ease and probably pummel the rest into submission, they still treated him like a 'guppy'. His father was no help. 'Guppy' started with the patriarch of the Sloan family.

“Is this wedding actually going to stick?" Joel teased. “Or is your brother going to take after his old man, pump his cum into the chick until a son pops out and then divorce while adopting the son into his own household?"

“Dunno," answered Dorian with a shrug. “And frankly, I don't give a fuck. They can follow Atlantis Law all the want but we live in California. That shit is considered barbaric."

“We live in California," chastised Joel, “and that means we're also very respectful of other people's cultures. Just because your family follow a patriarchal hierarchy, doesn't mean they don't deserve the right to their culture."

The shark gave him a playful snarl. “Fuck you and fuck your social studies. My old man fucked twelve women, never married one of them and basically dumped them the minute they pumped out a son." He groaned again as he twisted some of the fettuccine around his fork. “Too bad that bastard has such potent sperm that each one of his kids is a man."

“Talk to my old man. In his eyes, you're not a man for liking cock in your ass."

Dorian gave him a smirk as he lifted his fork covered in carbonara. “Fuck me, man. If those two were ever in the same room, they'd kill each other." Then he grinned brightly. “Can we arrange a visit?"

Joel threw his head back and laughed. The minifridge behind the bar fell into view and he reached down, grabbing a few sodas as he did so, handing one to Dorian. “As much as I hate my dad's guts, I still love him. He's already at death's door. I don't want to give him that last push."

“Yeah…" sighed Dorian, cracking open the top of the soda. He held it up, offering a toast to the bull. “To our fucked up fathers."

Joel grinned. “And to the god that spited them enough for their bigotry that they gave them two of the biggest faggots on this side of Golden Cliff."

Shark lifted a scaly eyebrow at him and Joel had to apologize for the use of the 'f-word'. More of his upbringing coming out especially since no one ever used that word these days anymore. They clinked the lips of their sodas but before Joel could take a drink of his root beer, his phone let out a little, cute howl.

“That your cute cub?" Dorian teased.

“No," Joel laughed, lifting his phone and opening Howler. “Shaw has since been promoted from Howler Hookup to actually being in my contacts."

He had matched with a new guy. Surprising because he hadn't updated his 'ISO' - or In Search Of - in his profile since finding Shaw. He usually made a habit of changing that since every guy he found scratched an 'itch' for him at the time. After the hookup cycle eventually died, he would change his ISO. It kept his desires fresh and different. Sometimes he'd go back to the same kinds of guys after a few months or so but overall, he found himself entertained and meeting all different types of people.

“Ha!" he exclaimed, turning his phone to Doria. “Check him out. That ass is juicy as-fuck! A dolphin too. I wonder what I can do with that bottlenose."

When no response came from Dorian, he peered around his phone and saw the disapproving stare from the shark.

“What? You don't like me hooking up with a seafaring mammal?"

“No," Dorian growled. “Don't you think you're moving on a little too fast from Shaw?"

Joel flicked his ears and his tail thrashed a little. This was the same speech he had gotten from Killian and Amos only with slightly different seasonings. It was getting tiring and repetitive.

“Come on, man," Joel sighed, running his hand through his hair, having to avoid his horns. “You know by the third time I sleep with someone, I'm ready to move on. It's like having the same thing for breakfast, lunch and dinner on the same day! My palette needs a cleanse."

“Right but you usually don't sleep with a guy three nights in a row," Dorian countered, flicking a webbed finger in his direction. “You usually space things out over a couple of weeks. Use the time to savor the moments you have with the guy. But you steamrolled through this guy. You might've missed something."

Shit! There is something I forgot.

In the hurry to calm Shaw and make him a Bloody Mary, Joel had once again forgotten to define the relationship with the snow-white teddy bear. Though, considering how they had just had a threesome with Amos and the two were giggling and cuddling on the couch while he cooked them breakfast, it was pretty clear they weren't in a serious relationship.

… right?

No. He needed to clear the air to make sure there was nothing left to chance.

“I mean," Dorian continued, “I know we're JACKED and we typically promote the idea of guys being stacked and ripped but we're not that shitty. We like all guys and Shaw is cute! Not to mention have you seen his arms?"

Joel set down his fork, resting his elbow on the bar and propping his chin on the back of his hand. “I think it comes from all the games he plays. He's got some thick arms." Smirking at his friend and lover, he said, “What? Are you jealous that he had me between him and Amos, spit-roasted like a Hawaiian BBQ?"

“Fuck yeah!" barked Dorian, bearing his grin again. “You know I'm a sucker for guys with glasses!"

That he was. Dorian was always the kind to like intelligent people or at least perceptions of intelligence. Even when he hadn't started working out thanks to Amos' influence, he gravitated towards guys that were more on brainy than brawny. Of course, his tastes had evolved since then but there was still his penchant to find comfort in intellectuals.

Again, a holdover from his youth when he was the 'runt' of the sharks and he naturally gravitated towards more intelligent pursuits. Few would even think that Dorian had a triple Degree in music, mathematics and business and a Masters in business - all six guys had a bachelor's in business but only Dorian had a Masters. No one would ever expect the maintenance guy or the dude that got the shipments into the store to be that smart especially with how often Dorian swore.

“Maybe you'll get your turn," Joel said, turning the phone back to himself. “In the meantime, I'm curious what 'Blowhole2069' has to offer."

Dorian's webbed fingers gently rested on the top of his phone and forced it down. “Come on, Rocky. Can't you at least wait a week? If not for the cute cola, then at least for your image." The shark absently gestured at the bar floor with his other hand. “You know the guys here gossip like a bunch of middle-aged aunts. They all saw you leave with Shaw three times already. If you're suddenly with another guy after they know you hang around with a dude at least for a month, they're going to think you've gone from playboy to slut. Or are at least in heat."

That's a good point, I guess.

“Fuck I hate it when you're right," he sighed, lowering his phone and setting it on the table. “I guess I should at least wait until Shaw meets up with his ex."

His friend was suddenly awake and every attentive. “Wait. What? He's going to see his ex!?"

“Tomorrow," Joel explained. “The asshole apparently saw the pictures Killian posted on our site with that hashtag he came up with on the spot. They included Shaw for the first few of them. So he sent Shaw a text basically asking to explain in person."

Dorian's eyes narrowed and his fists closed around the can, crunching it slightly without breaking it entirely. “Where does that whore get off demanding a meeting when he cheated on the poor little bear?"

“To be fair, it looked like he was trying to talk to Shaw since 'the event'." Just for emphasis, he placed those two words in air quotes. “But Shaw was just socially and mentally shutdown that he didn't respond. Liam wanted to meet yesterday but I told him to wait to tomorrow."

“You told him?"

Joel grinned and explained how he had hijacked Shaw's phone and responded to Liam on behalf of the hyperventilating bear. They were in agreement about the timing of the meeting.

“Do you think Shaw will be okay?" Dorian asked, genuinely concerned.

Smirking to himself and lifting his can of soda to his lips, Joel said, “Don't worry. I'm sending Killian with him."

The shark's eyebrows rose as a grin split across his face. “Well fuck me. You're sending the supermodel to make the ex jealous? Dude, that's evil."

“I'm a bartender. I don't care what people say they want. I just serve people what they deserve. If that's the cocktail they want or a shitty canned beer, doesn't matter." His eyes ran across the wall of alcohol and spirit bottles.

“It's my bar."

Shaw

Chupacabra Cafe was sort of a play on 'Latin-American Starbucks'. Predominantly a coffee store that sold a few pastries here and there, they prided themselves on brewing responsibly sourced coffee beans and mixing them with Latin-American fare. Churros and chocolate was one of their major selling points. In total opposition to Starbucks, the dominant color was red. The awnings over the open-air seating area were red, the table covers were a deep wine color and the floor was covered in a faux-brick tiles. Inside was well-lit and quite modern with lots of windows, seating areas and charging ports which was juxtaposed by bunches of hanging, dried chillies, painted images of cinnamon sticks, coffee beans and jugs of milk all over the bare, brick walls.

It was cozy and one of the few places that Shaw had visited every now and then with Liam early on in their relationship. In between meetings, small lunch dates and sometimes in the morning. Even though Shaw never really liked the taste of coffee nor drank it religiously, he still went on Liam's insistence. The saddest part was that he couldn't remember when he stopped going or why.

Did I say I didn't want to go a few times?

Did my work schedule just become too busy to take coffee breaks?

Did we just… drift apart?

A webbed paw suddenly fell on his shoulder and he immediately went rigid.

“You're staring, jefe," Killian said in his sultry Latin-American accent which blended easily with his Texas-like twang. “Come on. Where is he?"

Shaw gulped loudly before casting his gaze around the open-air seating area. Some furs were present with black fur but not the particular combination of black and white or that long, monochrome, banner-like tail with the white fur dyed a bright blue. He could usually find Liam by that streak of cerulean.

“He's not here yet."

Killian checked his watch - one of the only people Shaw knew that still wore watches. “I guess we are five minutes early. Let's go grab some drinks and find a seat."

Nodding numbly, Shaw followed this friendly near-stranger that he had only met once before into the cafe and up to the counter. Killian immediately caught people's attention. Not surprising considering handsome otter was dressed in a black, pure leather cut-off jacket that barely drifted below his plump pectorals which were clearly visible through the figure-hugging white shirt he wore underneath. That very same shirt was just short enough that if he moved in the right way, his belly button was visible and just the whispers of his washboard abdominals. On the back of the jacket was the design of a pair of spread, feathered wings made out of a reflective plastic material that would glimmer with rainbows. He wore a pair of baggy, black cargo pants with streaks of red running through them like someone had ripped through the fabric and left angry, crimson claw marks that were particularly focused around his perky ass. Strangely enough, the black, red and white kicks that he wore were the most inconspicuous of his clothing but they were easily the most expensive - even more pricey than his jacket.

With his outfit combined with the dark-brown hair that he had styled to have that natural 'just-got-out-of-bed' appearance, striking blue eyes and lean physique at a not-at-all intimidating 5'11', he naturally stood out. Compared to Shaw who had come right off work, dressed in his suit, pants and collared shirt, Killian was the rock star that had just stepped onto stage after the opening act had finished unsuccessfully hyping up the crowd. Shaw felt out of place being next to the gorgeous otter and, at the same time, extremely lucky to know the guy even if it was only peripherally.

“What can I get for you?" asked the possum at the counter. She looked tired. Given that it was already about six in the evening, she was probably either just starting her shift and bracing for a late night at work or ending a long day. Her voice was chipper and enthusiastic but her eyes were exhausted and her stance unmotivated.

Been there, Shaw thought to himself miserably.

“You look like you've had a day, chica," sighed Killian. He fished out a twenty and slipped it into the tip jar. “Here, just to see you through the end of your shift. As for me…" He made a show of putting his weight on his right foot then rubbing his chin as he examined the menu. “I'll have that dragonfruit and mango frappe." Killian then stepped aside and gestured towards Shaw. “And anything my hombre, wants."

Shaw forced a smile as he approached the counter. “I'll have a La -" He stopped himself. Coffee was not his preferred drink. His go-to order was a latte with a shot of caramel. Every time he had met with Liam's friends - because they were Liam's friends and never his own - he had always ordered a latte with a shot of caramel. It was the drink Liam had recommended to him the first time they had come here and he had confessed he never drank coffee.

But Liam isn't here.

“You know what?" he said, puffing out his chest. “I'll have a Mexican hot chocolate with the works. With the whipped cream and Tajin."

Killian made a show of reeling back and pressing a paw against his chest. “Oooh! Going for the gold, eh, jefe?" He fished out another twenty from his wallet and slipped it into the tip jar. “You might need this," he said, smiling a dazzling smile at the barista.

The possum threw back a grateful smile and rung them up. Killian paid and using his card and even added a little more of a tip on there. They found a seat not too far away indoors with Killian lounging on the booth while Shaw took up position on the chair next to him. A second chair remained for their inevitable confrontation.

“You know you tipped more than our drinks cost, right?" Shaw asked. “Don't tell me you're bisexual and wanted to hit that possum?"

Killian giggled softly and waved him away. That was when Shaw noticed that the otter's claws had been filed down to the point where they were not visible against his fingers. “Of course I do, jefe. That was all part of the plan."

“Plan?"

The mustelid nodded back towards the counter. “When you tip big in places like this and make it personal, you attract the attention of the staff. They're more likely to come to your aid."

Shaw rested a paw against the table, ready to get up and leave. “Are we in danger?"

Killian rested a paw over his, gesturing for him to remain seated. “Of course not, jefe. But if Liam decides to make a scene, who do you think the staff are more likely to side with?"

Damn… That's really clever.

A stark reminder that of all the people in JACKED, Killian was probably the most socially aware and likely had the most street smarts. Erick knew his way around technology and Joel could charm the pants off anyone - literally - but Killian would be the one that could make people dance to his tune without ever lifting a finger. The fact that #sipselfie was currently trending in his algorithm without him being tagged was quite telling.

The door to the cafe opened and a faint spring breeze brought with it a familiar scent of grapefruit fur shampoo - little sweet, little sour and a bit musky. Shaw didn't want to turn his whole body but there was no denying the pull of a three-year relationship. Still, he resisted and only his head turned, each of the vertebrae on his neck grinding against one another.

There was Liam.

Lean with enough of a square to his shoulders not to be mistaken for a twink. Even though he was a year older than Shaw - twenty-seven - he still looked like a teenager or someone who had just come straight out of college. Little chubby-cheeked, bright-eyed and with his black hair spiked up. That streak of blue that ran from his right temple, and down to the back of his neck was still there. Judging by the slight dampness of his fur, he had just showered. There was no mistaking the cerulean blue of his tail which waved a little upon seeing him.

A smile touched Liam's triangular muzzle, his pink nose deepening red slightly; a little quirk Shaw noticed about the skunk whenever he was genuinely happy. That smile vanished into an uncertain grimace, however, when he noticed Killian.

The skunk approached with great trepidation, his sharp, brown eyes darting from Shaw to Killian multiple times.

“Hey, babe," he greeted.

You do not get to call me that!

Shaw screamed those words internally but it never made it past his frontal lobe. “Starwaski," he greeted, using Liam's surname. He almost kicked himself there and then and certainly assaulting his own consciousness. Never once had he done that. Not even when they had first met! The blizzard that came from the cold greeting was so great that even Killian recoiled and the fur around his cheeks stood on end.

Liam hesitated then gestured at the free seat. “May I sit down?"

“It would be strange if you wanted to meet and only wanted to chat while standing," answered Shaw coldly. “Unless this is going to be brief then you can say your piece and go. We ordered drinks."

Killian had to step in and got to his feet, offering his paw. “Hi. I'm Killian. Killian Rivers. Nice to meet you."

Liam extended his paw and shook Killian's, seemingly glad to touch something warm. “I recognize you from the pictures. You're the DJ at JACKED?"

“DJ and co-owner actually." The otter sat back down and Liam did the same. It didn't pass Shaw's attention that the skunk shuffled his seat a little closer to Killian.

What? Afraid your ex might bite?

“Oh," Liam said, with a little smile on his muzzle. “I was wondering if I had mistaken the bear on the photo for my Shaw. Guess I was wrong."

Your Shaw? When was I yours when you and that Dalmatian where rolling around in my sheets!?

It was all Shaw could do not to blow up there and then. The floodgates had been opened with the angry sex had had unleashed on Joel in Amos' company. There was no closing them but it was killing him to keep his muzzle shut.

Killian rested one arm against the back of the booth, taking a relaxed stance and letting his tight shirt slide up just a little bit to show up the bottom row of his abdominals. “Yeah, a buddy of mine and another of the co-owners got to know him and we hung out on Friday. It was my idea to do the whole #SipSelfie thing. Got us a lot of views. Heard a few celebrities are even picking up on it. Mostly influencers but who knows? Maybe some Hollywood superstars might start doing it."

“You really think it'll get that far?" Liam responded with a clearly-forced smile. “Would be kind of crazy if they eventually pointed it all back to those first few photos."

Before Shaw could respond, Killian waved a paw absently through the air. “If it does get that big, it'll never come back down to us. The only people that will know that it ever came from our little bar are meme hunters." Again, he waved his paw. “Anyway, I'm glad that my little brainchild got you two to sit down. Now you can talk." He waved at them both. “So? Got something to say? Jefe?"

Shaw turned to Killian, his expression cold and his words icy. “I'll head this off," he began. “I know I was never the best of partners. I was inattentive. Obsessed with work. Gamed when I got home. Never spent time with you. I'll admit to that. I'm changing."

“Clearly," said Liam, his smile easing a little. “Going out to bars? Drinking alcohol?"

“Hooking up," Shaw added, stunning the skunk before his ex could take control of the conversation. “Remember that old profile we made for me on Howler all that time ago? Was meant to be a joke. Yeah, I got a match. Turned out to be his co-owner." He hiked a thumb at Killian. “It was a crazy few days."

A look of defeat crossed Liam's features and his shoulders visibly sagged. “I see…" The skunk took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “I had a moment of weakness."

“Was it the only moment of weakness?" Shaw asked quickly. Liam hesitated. Question answered. “How long?"

Liam grimaced, turning away. “Eight months."

“Puta madre…" breathed Killian. “How long have you two been together? Three years."

“About three, yeah," rumbled Shaw. “Was I really that bad?"

The skunk took a deep breath, lifting his head back and sighing. “I don't think we ever really… clicked."

“Excuse me?"

Liam finally turned to him, meeting his gaze. “Shaw, babe, you had your circle of friends and I had mine. Yours were all online and you never met them in person and mine were real people we hung out with. I would always bring you along but you'd always be off on your own, scrolling on your phone and barely participating."

The skunk tilted his head to the side, his tail bending in the opposite direction. “We didn't like the same things. Even this cafe. You didn't drink coffee. I saw how much you hated ordering… what was it…?" He put on a pitying smile. “A latte with a shot of caramel. You never finished those. You'd always just drink Mountain Dew. Not even water. You know you need water to survive, right?"

He was losing ground. The blue flames of his anger he had felt was being doused by this suffocating wave of pity.

“I tried," Liam pleaded. “Really, I did. That's why I kept inviting you to the clubs or dinner with my friends. Why I kept insisting we meet for lunch or when you had breaks." He reached out, gripping Shaw's hands. His palms were so warm. “I even tried setting up the D&D night with us and my buddies but it just never took off. I tried so many times to reach out to you but nothing I ever did sparked your interest. You were always either 'too tired', 'too busy' or consumed by your games."

Liam's paws slipped away from his. “Eventually… I got tired of trying. I… I looked to someone else to be with that would…"

“Click?" Shaw whispered softly.

His ex only nodded.

The worst part was… all of this was true. Liam did try all those things. Shaw remembered those outings at the club. They were always too loud for him and he was never a good dancer so he just left early. The dinners were awkward for him because he would always feel like the odd, deflated wheel as Liam and his friends would chat away at topics he had no knowledge of. That D&D night actually seemed really interesting but it involved improv which he was terrible at and he only ever just rolled and declared attacks. Eventually, the group disbanded as they all grew bored.

Liam had tried.

What had he tried to maintain their relationship?

The barista suddenly shouted Killian's name.

“Be right back," declared the otter, rising to his feet. He gestured at the two. “Continue."

Liam flashed him a quick smile before turning to Shaw. “Hearing about how you were suddenly going to bars and hooking up with people made me wonder if you had changed." His eyes shone. “Have you?"

Shaw's eyes and resolved wavered. He had changed. He was still changing. Hooking up with Joel - a complete stranger - after getting incredibly drunk was something he had never done before and wasn't even on his bucket list. Chillingly, he would do it again at a heartbeat. Then there was Amos. He never knew he loved big, muscular men before but the dragon just pushed buttons that he never knew he had.

“I have," he admitted.

Liam's features brightened. The skunk reached out again, gently clasping his paws. “Then… you think we can make this work?"

Killian returned, setting down Shaw's drink on front of him while holding his own. Strangely, Killian had removed the lid of the cup. This ensured that the spicy aroma of the hot chocolate wafted through the air coupled with the full view of the whipped cream topped with the crimson flakes of tajin.

Seeing it and the way Killian was looking at him made something just click inside of him.

He pulled his paws away from Liam, surprising his ex.

“I have changed," he repeated. “You hurt me, Liam. That made me change. Made me what to be someone that you would approve of. But then the guys at JACKED showed me that I don't have to do that unless I want to. That I shouldn't change to be with someone and that I should be happy with who I am first before I start looking for ways to be happy with someone else."

Shaw picked up his hot chocolate and took a sip from it, eyes still on Liam. Immediately, he gagged and set it down, eyes watering a little.

“Are you okay?" Liam asked, suddenly concerned.

“Yeah," he coughed. “Just breathed in some tajin." Offering a little smile for the first time in their conversation, he said, “Sometimes the things we try don't work out. That's okay. But relationships aren't transactional."

Hearing the words that he, himself, had uttered caused Liam to recoil.

“Just because I didn't like going out with your friends, doesn't mean that it's a black mark against our relationship. Even though D&D night died out, doesn't diminish what we had." Then his features hardened. “Clubbing and going to bars may not have been my thing and I'm not sure they even are now…" He glanced over to Killian. “No offense."

The otter waved absently, rudder-like tail slapping the booth's cushions beside him. “All good, jefe." The thumping of the mustelid's tail were war drums that were urging Shaw to press the offensive.

He was gaining ground again.

“But the thing that is ruined our relationship is that you didn't talk to me about how you felt," Shaw continued. “I told you I didn't like any of those things. You still kept insisting before eventually leaving me out. I wouldn't have minded if you hung out with your friends. I played games all night with mine. But when you start holding that against me, grading me and our relationship because I liked to do what I wanted and never asking me to change instead going behind my back and getting your dick sucked by someone else then you messed things up."

Liam recoiled and a combative edge entered his eyes. “So you're allowed to change at your own pace and I'm just meant to be infinitely patient? You didn't talk to me either!"

“Because there was nothing to talk about," answered Shaw hotly. “I was…" There was a word on the tip of his tongue for how he had felt during their three years together. 'Happy' was far from it. “… satisfied with your relationship. I thought everything was okay. I was happy to work my nine-to-five job. I was happy to provide everything for us and I was happy with what we had. I had nothing to complain about except those times you tried to force me to fit your definition of a perfect boyfriend."

Shaw shook his head and leaned back, pulling further away from Liam. “I read once that no relationship is perfect. The odds of you finding your perfect match are literally eight-billion to one. The best you can do is find someone close and you'll eventually shape one another until you fit." He lowered his gaze, green eyes on the cup of hot chocolate in his paw. “Maybe I would have changed into what you would have wanted me to be. But you weren't listening to what I wanted to become. You never tried any of my games. You never tried to meet any of my friends. It was always with your friends."

“What you call your 'friends' were just a bunch of random loners online. You had never met them in person."

Killian looked like he was about to intervene but Shaw gave him a sharp look and then turned back towards his ex.

“You're right," he said evenly. “And it took your betrayal to make me realize that. Maybe if we had met them in person, things would be different. Maybe you could have told me in a different way than cheating on me. Guess we'll never know."

People were starting to take notice especially as Liam grew more flustered. His air of pity and blame shifting was fading. In its place was the vulnerable, scared artisinal sandwich maker who was afraid of any form of accountability.

“I was trying to help you, babe," Liam pleaded. “You said it yourself. You just went to work, came home, played games and just ordered food most of the time! I mean, you put on more than just a few pounds since we first met."

“Don't bring weight into this, pendejo."

“Shut up, Juan," snapped Liam.

A spark of anger erupted in Shaw, reigniting the flame that had earlier been doused by Liam's blast of false-compassion. That fire exploded but refocused into a blade that Shaw used to cut through the skinny skunk's 'empathy'.

Everything he said was just a way to shift blame to me.

To make him seem like the victim.

Like he put in all that effort, spent all that time, and I was just too stubborn to reciprocate so that he had no choice but to cheat.

Shaw shook his head physically, catching Liam and Killian's attention before the two could start something. His gaze was cold, piercing. Liam visibly recoiled from him.

“I recognized my mistakes," he said firmly. “I am trying to change. I really am. I recognize that and own it. But the difference between us is that I know where my fault lies. Nothing you've said so far give me assurance that you would not cheat again if, down the line, I don't follow the road you want me to take or I become someone you don't like."

Liam's eyes widened. “I would never do that, babe! Never again!"

Shaw offered a soft, bitter smile and shook his head. “Sorry. I just don't believe you." Nodding towards his drink. “I guess sometimes we just try things and no matter how much we try to like them, we'll never actually love them. Three years is hard to let go of but if I've learned anything in these past two weeks, holding onto something that's dead will just spread the rot to you until it eats you up and you end up withering away."

He pushed the hot chocolate away from him and towards Liam.

“We tried. We learned from it. At least I know I did. I hope you did too." Lifting his gaze to look at the ceiling so he could tear his gaze away from Liam's even for a moment. “I don't think I ever gave you anything you really wanted. At least not recently. I locked myself off. Didn't tell you want I wanted and we never had a real conversation. So I think we should just end it here. Part ways. Maybe remain friends. But we're officially exes."

It felt good to finally have that definition. For the past two weeks, he had been hovering in that limbo of whether or not they had actually broken up. He had just demanded Liam leave and hadn't even changed the locks. At any given time, the skunk could have come back in since he had the keys.

But now…

Now I've finally closed that door.

Liam suddenly stood, putting himself in Shaw's line-of-sight. For the briefest of moments, he saw the fury in the skunk's eyes before it was cloaked once more in that mask of Gandhi-like-serenity.

“I'm glad we at least starting to talk again," he said stiffly. “I know the wounds are still a little raw. When you're ready, you have my number. Let's talk again." His eyes darted towards Killian. “Maybe next time without an audience."

“Sad to say he's probably going to be bringing a few friends along, hombre," exclaimed Killian. “Your boy has been very social."

Just the way Killian said that last sentence made Shaw avert his gaze, letting a blush creep up his cheeks. Liam saw thing and Shaw realized his mistake. The skunk's eyes darted between the two multiple times before his mask fell for all of a second as he scowled. When he slipped on his facade again, he couldn't manage any more than a neutral, impassive look.

“I'll talk to you later then, Shaw. We still have a lot to discuss."

Then he turned and made to leave.

But before he did, Killian lifted his cup and shouted, “Later, Starwaski!"

Shaw was glad he had turned around at that point so that he could flash the otter a broad grin and Liam couldn't see it.

Joel

Tuesdays traditionally was JACKED's slowest day of the week. The week was just beginning, people had just gotten over Mondayitis and it was too early in the week to wake up drunk or late to work because of a hangover.

That was the perfect opportunity for Cash to experiment with his dishes.

'Taste Tester Tuesdays' they called it.

Just as every restaurant had specials on every day of the week, JACKED promoted an 'experiment' on Tuesdays. It was much cheaper than anything else on the menu and came with a free beer because there was no telling if the dish would be good or even passable. Cash did his best to make sure what he made was at least edible but occasionally, he would get that little gremlin-gleam in his eye and come up with something absolutely horrible.

Joel shuddered at the memory of the steamed octopus and tuna encased in lime gelatin dish that he called 'Feline Fantasy'. Apparently, it was inspired from several dishes during the Great Depression when encasing things in gelatin was a thing.

If a dish was popular enough, it would go on the regular menu.

There were voting boxes next to the bar and exit just for people to influence JACKED's menu.

Thankfully, tonight's dish was the gorgeous Jalapeño Poppers with an Asian flair to them. They were extremely popular and the bartending bull found himself salivating a little seeing so many people having them. The perfect bar food to go with drinks.

It was a challenge for him as well.

Mixing the perfect cocktail to go with the experimental appetizer for different people kept him on his toes. A challenge he absolutely enjoyed. One of the many thrills of working at JACKED.

He served a tired office worker who loved the poppers but was a little conscious about the fried content. A strawberry and basil margarita. The guy absolutely loved it, complimenting how refreshing it was compared to the spicy and heavy nature of the poppers. There was a small group of women who were a little on the rowdy side and they were feeding each other the poppers, taking selfies and bringing up the energy in the bar. He made them a bright, colorful Mai Tai. Perfect for those photo opportunities. They squeed in delight when he handed it to them.

I still got it.

Charged with confidence, the bull danced to the beat the DJ was pumping through the speakers. It was Killian's day off - one of the reasons he had asked the otter to accompany Shaw. Thinking of the otter reminded him of Shaw's encounter with his ex.

He served a few beers to some people and then checked his phone. It was already eleven in the evening. Almost time to close for the weekday. Still no word from Shaw. Or Killian for that matter. They were supposed to meet with Liam at around 6 PM. That was five hours ago.

Did something happen?

Nightmare scenarios of Liam stalking and attacking the duo flashed before his mind. This was not the first time a jilted lover had attacked one of the JACKED guys - once again, the Stalker Incident came to mind.

No, he thought, shaking the thought from his mind. We would've been told if that had happened. Besides, after the Stalker Incident, we all too self-defense classes.

Killian would never be knocked down by a twink like Liam.

Unless Liam brought a gun?

Another nightmare scenario flooded his mind but again, he pushed it out of his mind. The skunk did not seem that violent and he had no idea that Killain would be there with Shaw. It would have taken him by surprise. Not to mention they had decided to meet somewhere public. If there was some sort of shooting event, it would have been all over the news.

Just to be sure, Joel checked his news feeds.

Nothing.

“You've got customers waiting, Rocky!"

He jumped and lifted his gaze to see Cash dropping off a few more poppers in front of some guests at the bar. Flashing the lion a bright smile, he tucked his phone away and ran his hands down his apron.

“Be there in a jiffy," he said, winking at the group in front of him. Within a half a minute, he had them all served and even chatted with them a little to make up for his inattentiveness.

Dancing between customers, he found himself busy at the bar for another thirty minutes. With closing time within an hour, the crowds were starting to thin. Another glance at his phone.

Still nothing.

The DJ had finished his set for the night and was packing up. With no new orders coming in for the moment, Joel left the bar and padded up to the husky.

“Hey Cole," he greeted. “Did you hear from Killian today?"

The canine with the peach-red hair and bright red headphones hanging around his neck nodded. “Yeah. He said that he wouldn't be able to make it tonight. Told me to tell you to tell Cash to save him some of the poppers."

So Killian couldn't even make it to the bar. Even on their days off, they would make an appearance in bar most of time. If Cash's experimental - and highly popular appetizer - couldn't attract the otter, then something would have really caught his attention.

“When did he ask that?" he asked.

Cole shrugged. “About an hour ago. What time is it?"

“It's eleven-thirty, dude."

“Yeah. About an hour ago." The husky wiped his forehead with the back of his paws. “I've got to go. I've got a wedding I'm DJ'ing tomorrow." He pointed a finger gun at Joel. “Remember those poppers for the Killer, yeah?"

Joel threw him a thumbs up and then returned to the bar.

Killian had talked to Cole an hour ago. That suggested that he was at least alive and well. Unless someone had kidnapped him and was masquerading as him.

Again, he shook the apocalyptic plots from his head.

When midnight hit, he rang the bell for last call. A few people ordered some drinks for the road and he happily gave it to them. Everyone was gone by twelve-fifteen. That left him to start cleaning the bar and doing his nightly ritual to make sure everything was ready for tomorrow's run.

He pulled apart some of the drink dispensers and their grating and brought them to the back towards the kitchen for cleaning. Cash had closed the kitchen an hour earlier and he was in the process of doing inventory and cleaning as well.

“How did we do tonight?" Joel asked, setting the grates in the enormous sink in the back to be washed.

The lion flashed him a grin as he took the hose-like faucet and began rinsing the stainless steel with hot water. “Pretty damn good. Those poppers were a hit. Amos is gathering the votes now. I'm sure we'll have a new addition to the menu."

“I feel that," he laughed. “People were thirsty!" He held up his hand. Cash slapped a paw against his palm.

After a few seconds, Cash said, “You were a little distracted tonight. Something on your mind?"

Busted.

Not in the mood to once again be lectured about Shaw, Joel shrugged and said, “I just needed to think about what would go good with a cheesy, spicy, sweet appetizer. Different people have different palettes and I was running myself fucking ragged trying to figure out what would go well with an Asian-American fusion appetizer!"

That was clearly a lie and Cash knew it. But Joel also knew his best friends intimately. An obvious lie would be picked apart. Which meant he just had to have a second more convincing lie ready.

“Bitch, don't bullshit me," Cash growled playfully. “I've eaten your ass so I know when you're feeding me a whole lot of crap. What's really bothering you?"

That was when Joel fished out his phone and opened Howler. “I matched with this guy earlier today."

Cash's features twisted into a disapproving grimace. “'Blowhole2069'? Points for the body. Love the tattoo. Goes well with his skin. But he loses merit for that handle." The lion's blue eyes drifted to Joel. “But don't you think this is a little soon after Shaw?"

This he was prepared for. After all, he had already had a 'trial run' with Dorian earlier in the day.

“From what I hear, Shaw had a good time with Killian. He confronted his ex and they're hanging out with each other. Probably debriefing, if you know what I mean." He waggled his eyebrows at Cash who pushed him away playfully. “Besides, you know me. I've got to get me some strange." He slapped Cash's chest with the back of his hands. “Experimentation in the spice of life, right? It's why we have Taste Tester Tuesdays."

The taller lion was quiet for a second before shrugging and turning back to his cleaning. “I guess you know you better than I do. Just seems to me that Shaw actually made you do something wild and outside of your routine."

Joel recoiled, a little offended. “Routine? What routine?"

“You know. Fuck a guy a couple of times, get to know them, learn they have baggage and then we all help the guy carry that baggage for a few weeks before you move on to the next guy."

The bull narrowed his gaze and threw his hands up into the air. “Well excuse me for being the revolving door that makes you all the fucking bellboys to this goddamn hotel!"

Cash was surprised by his sudden reaction and he immediately regretted his outburst. “I didn't mean that was a bad thing. You have good tastes. We make lots of friends from the guys you introduce us to." He grinned, flashing his predatory fangs. “They're all really fun." Then he threw a concerned look at Joel. “Something else is bothering you, isn't it?"

Damnit…

Joel let out a long sigh and leaned against the sink. “I guess I was a little worried about Shaw." Waving his phone, he said, “I kind of expected him to text me the minute the meeting with his ex was over. I'm invested in the kid. I think we all are."

“That's usually how it turns out," Cash chuckled. “None of your hookups ever end with just a hookup. They become friends, fuck buddies and regular attendees at our JACKED Jack-Off."

“Am I really that much of a whore?" Joel asked, offering a pitiable smile.

“More like our first line of defense," the lion responded, bumping shoulders with him as their head chef had to use both his paws to detail clean the grates in the sink. “You're worried about Shaw."

“I was just afraid of another 'Stalker Incident'."

“Killian is with him and you know he can kick ass."

“I know."

Cash's keen eyes rested on him. “But you still wanted him to tell you how things went, huh?"

Joel didn't respond, knowing full well that the intuitive lion knew what his answer would be.

Cash finished washing the dishes and flicked his wrists, dusting the sink with the remnants of water from his fingertips. “Seems to me you've still got some unfinished business with Shaw. Something else you want from him."

“The funny thing is I know exactly what that is," he said firmly. “I still have to find the guy a drink he likes!"

“Seriously?" The lion straightened and gave him a quizzical stare. “It's taken you this long? You've brought him here… what? Three times now? You haven't found him anything he likes?" Cash gestured in the direction of the bar's floor. “You were on fire out there! You didn't even get a day to think about what kind of drink would go along with my poppers and you left everyone happy out there!"

Points to Cash. Out of everyone else, he didn't consistently point out that Valentino was a better bartender than him.

“It's frustrating," Joel admitted, ruffling his own hair. “The guy has never drunk alcohol but seems super sensitive to it. Even drinks that don't have a lot of alcohol he doesn't like! I've tried the really posh stuff like whiskey and rum. Even tried making him a Bloody Mary. He doesn't like any of them."

Cash tilted his head to the side. “Then maybe take a different approach? Start of with stuff he does like and go from there?"

Joel tilted his head a little, recalling many comments Shaw and Amos had made about the copious amounts of Mountain Dew in the polar bear's apartment.

Huh… that's a good point. I might be able to make a Moscow Mule with Mountain Dew_._

There was a little howl that came from his exposed phone. It was Blowhole2069. Ballsy to reach out after they had matched and Joel had yet to swipe for confirmation.

'Hey,' began the dolphin with the shredded abdominals. 'I saw we matched earlier today and wanted to say you look like a fine slice of beef. A5.'

Joel couldn't help but smile at that. Corny and classic. The number of times he'd been compared to fine cuts of meat was far too many. Flattery was a surefire way to garnish points from him.

'You're damn hot too,' he responded. 'Love your tats. And your abs. I'd cut my tongue on them if I licked them.'

'Whatchu doing tomorrow? You up to really make it a 'hump day'?'

Without warning, the phone screen was snatched from him by a pair of semi-wet paws. Cash was giving him a critical stare.

“What?" Joel responded, offering a helpless shrug. “I'm looking for Shaw's drink not his ass. I can still cruise."

“That's fine," Cash responded. “I'm the last person you want to preach to about fucking around. I'm a lion, after all. But just think about the optics about this." He waved the phone in Joel's direction. “You're clearly still interested in Shaw. He's barely known us for a week. If you start fucking around while still showing some interest in the cola, you're going to give the bar a bad name."

That was exactly what Dorian said.

Though I had promised him I wouldn't do anything about Blowhole2069 until today after Shaw met up with Liam…

“I suppose I've just got to find Shaw's drink fast, then," he said, snatching his phone back.

“Don't treat this like a chore, man," grumbled Cash, turning back to his cleaning. “Shaw seems like a nice guy. I'd like to keep him around."

“Only because he hasn't tried your poppers yet."

Cash tilted his head back and stuck out his tongue at Joel while giving him a swish of his tail just for good measure. Taking that as a sign, Joel turned back to his Howler message and let out a little sigh.

'Kind of busy this week. I'll message you when I'm free.'

Shaw

Killian had one of the fancier apartments and was located on the Promenade - a stretch of land along the beach filled with boutique stores and restaurants. One of the most expensive places to live in the small city not only because of its convenience but also because the roads were well-maintained, the sidewalks were made out of patterned and colored tiles and it was just a short hop to the beach.

The otter lived in a large third-story apartment. Though technically capable of having three bedrooms, Killian had converted one of the bedrooms into his 'mixing studio' where he could experiment with his music sets. The second bedroom was a guest bedroom and he naturally had the master bedroom. Plenty of natural light came in from the floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the ocean. The apartment was just one floor taller than the other buildings around it so he had a mostly unobstructed view of the beach and the sunrise when it came. His kitchen was a stainless steel monstrosity; meticulous, enormous and apparently barely seeing use.

“I usually don't cook," admitted the otter, peeling off his jacket and setting it in a closet beside the door. “Normally, I just mooch off one of the guys or go out."

“Sounds familiar," Shaw mumbled softly as he took off his shoes.

“You don't have to do that," said the otter, gesturing at the wooden floorboards. “I don't mind."

Shaw removed his shoes anyway. “Sorry. It's just sort of habit. Asian upbringing, you know. We have to take off our shoes when indoors."

“You do you!" Killian answered happily, leaving the door to the closet open where there was a shoe rack. Shaw deposited his shoes and followed the handsome otter to the lounge set.

An enormous flat screen dominated the far wall - home theater-sized. The couches and sofa set were made of a comfortable, cloud-like material that Shaw recognized as anti-static fabric. A god-send for species with thick fur like him.

Killian homed in on a particular seat of the sectional - the chaise. He immediately parked himself there, reclining on the long cushion and curled both his arms behind his head.

Shaw stood awkwardly a good distance away. The sectional could easily fit five people and there were two large recliners that could house an additional two. Considering the size of the JACKED guys, he guessed that Killian often entertained. Part of him wondered which one was Joel's seat.

“Take a seat anywhere," said the otter, grabbing a remote and flicking it at the screen.

“Right," mumbled Shaw awkwardly. The glow of the television and Netflix's red logo masked his approached. He parked himself one section away from Killian but immediately regretted it.

There was something lodged in the base of the seat, pushing up against his tail. Grimacing softly, he reached back, grabbed what felt like a handle and pulled it out.

His features immediately dropped… just like his jaw.

What he held was a bright purple double-ended dildo.

Killian's eyes were just as wide as his.

“Que va! Benedict!" The otter snatched the pleasure device from Shaw and shoved it in between two cushions, out of sight. “_I swear I didn't plant that! _Puta madre… Dorian or Amos probably left it here…"

Shaw regarded his paw for a second and slowly began to push it away from himself like he could see a virus making its way up his limb. “You… You guys just leave your toys at each other's places…?"

“Those two do," sighed Killian, getting up and moving to the kitchen. He returned a second later with some sanitizer. “Amos is clumsy and leaves his shit everywhere. Dorian has a collection of these. He even names them. If this was his - and I think it is - it's probably Benedict."

Taking some of the sanitizer for himself and rubbing it through his paws, Shaw repeated the name. “Benedict?"

“As in Benedict Arnold. Famous backstabber. I think he thought he was being muy creative naming the purple, double-ended dick that. Though he changed it's name to be 'Benedict Cuminbatches' for… well… because the puta thinks he's clever." Killian fished out his phone and began angrily texting. He spoke as he texted. “Who the fuck buried their fucking two-ended fuck-stick in my couch!?"

Killian then threw an apologetic look at Shaw before sitting back down. “Lo siento, jefe. I don't want you thinking I'm sort of slut just…" He offered a cheeky smile and gestured towards the TV screen. “… We sometimes do Netflix and Chill over here. I got the space."

Deciding to shift the conversation away from the now-hidden sex toy, he said, “Yeah. This place is huge! How can you afford it?"

A look of relief crossed the otter's handsome features and he visibly relaxed. “We make decent money at JACKED but I'm the bar's DJ. Yeah, I'm a co-owner too but to afford this place…" He waved a webbed paw around him. “… I got to do a little bit extra."

“Extra as in…?"

“Nothing bad." He grinned broadly at Shaw. “Just a couple of gigs for celebrities. We got a few of them living up in the Cliffs. A few got married or want to throw parties when they are in town and I just pushed my brand really hard. Got in with one of them and they spread the word." The otter batted his eyes in an effeminate way. “Not to mention they love the idea of hiring a local gay DJ."

Shaw mulled the words for a few moments. “Doesn't it seem a little… weird that they're kind of hiring you for your sexual orientation?"

A thoughtful expression crossed the otter's features for a moment, emphasized by the dull glow of various shows and their previews being displayed on the TV. “There are people out there that only see others by their sexuality. Then there are advocates going out and saying that they're more than just gay, straight, bi, curious or whatever." His turned his gaze to Shaw. “But that's really unfair to those people who decide to make their sexuality part of their personality."

Those words hit like a blunt instrument right into Shaw's guts, pushing the wind out of his lungs. A flush of shame touched his cheeks.

Killian shuffled over and rested a paw on his knee. “Aw, don't feel bad, big cola. I'm not saying that I'm just gay. But I'm not going to correct people for thinking I'm fabulous." Just for emphasis, he did the sassy-finger-snap. “Just remember that making people act the way you want goes both ways."

Shaw let out a short laugh. “After what happened today with Liam, you'd think I would've have learned that."

“Some lessons take more than one class." The otter suddenly leaned forward and gave Shaw's nose a little peck - nothing more than a brief touch - but it radiated throughout the bear's body and left him feeling warm and safe.

Turning away with his cheeks burning, Shaw said, “Thanks for your help back there, by the way. I don't think I could've done it without you."

Killian waved a paw absently at him before shuffling back. Then, the otter abruptly laid down, resting his head on Shaw's belly. “Don't mention it. Your ex is a gaslighting, selfish pendejo."

“Gaslightning…?"

The otter look up at him. “You didn't get that?"

Thinking back on the conversation they had just a few hours ago, he did recall how Liam had made him the problem. His ex had tried to act like the valiant hero - that he was trying to improve Shaw - and that their breakup was a result of Shaw refusing to change. That it was his fault that Liam cheated.

At the time, he hadn't really identified it as gaslighting. Now that he put a name to the technique a myriad of emotions and questions flashed through his mind.

Did Liam know what he was doing? Did he come up with that speech in the two days since he texted me? Does he genuinely believe that he isn't at fault here?

“That son-of-a-bitch…" he growled softly.

Killian patted his thigh gently. “Easy there, big cola. It's over now. You showed your fangs and he backed off. Honestly, I think you let him off easy."

“Seems like it…"

Maybe I should call him.

But what will I say? 'Did you try to gaslight me a few hours ago at the cafe?'

“Let's not let that pendejo ruin our night. We had a nice dinner and now we're relaxing and digesting."

Shaw let out a soft chuckle, his big belly causing Killian to bounce a little and the otter to let out a little giggle. “Yeah. Never would've thought I'd find Chicago-style pizza here of all places."

“You've never been to this part of town?"

Sad at it was to admit, Shaw had limited himself to about a two mile-radius from his home and work. Anything beyond that was too inconvenient. The Promenade was at least ten miles from either location so he had never visited even though he knew it existed.

“No," he admitted. “I've lived in Golden Cliff for about five years now and never once came here."

“You're not a local?"

“Originally from San Diego. Moved up here for work." Shaw tilted his head to the side as he recalled the memories. “Right after I graduated from college with my degree in marketing and communication, I sent out job applications everywhere. At least everywhere within the state. Where I work right now gave me a decent offer so I took it." He gave himself a little chuckle and ran his paws through his dark hair. “Wow… I was twenty-one then."

“Don't rub it in!" laughed Killian. “I'm almost thirty!"

He grinned down at the otter. “Not even thirty and already co-owning your own bar. That's pretty damn impressive." Then his gaze grew distant and his smile eased slightly into a tight grimace. “Wish I had that kind of courage."

Killian pushed off his belly lightly and straightened, stretching one arm into the air. “Courage is overrated. Brave men die trying to do something stupid because they think it'll make them look more macho or for their legacy or some shit." Giving Shaw a side-eye and a confident smirk, he said, “What you need is the intelligent approach. Weigh the risks and rewards. The chances of success and the impact of failure. If that doesn't work, then stack the deck in your favor."

Those sounded similar to the lectures he got from his marketing professors nearly half a decade ago. Marketing was all about making the most impact with what you had. It would be impossible to reach everyone so the goal was not to get 100% participation rating. It was to get as much people as possible with as little blow-back as possible.

A brightness returning to his muzzle, Shaw said, “Is that how you got JACKED to be so popular?"

The otter offered a shameless shrug and cute tilt of the head. “Maybe. But really, the guys give me a lot to work with. I just make sure they shine in the best light."

Pressing his fingers against his own chest, Killian proudly said, “You've got to know how to spin even the worst situations in a good way."

Grinning a little, Shaw said, “You mean like the fact that I don't like alcohol and held my cocktail like I was right out of a cartoon?"

“Exactly!" Killian exclaimed, beaming brightly, his handsome features glimmering in the light of the television. Holding a paw to the side, and glancing at it, he said, “How do you turn the biggest klutz in your group but who also happens to be the biggest guy into an attraction? Talk about how our bodybuilding bouncer might just 'fall for you'. I made a whole event once a month where guys could try to knock Amos over and those that do get free drinks for the rest of the night!"

Then he held out his other paw, giving it another glance. “How about our notoriously slutty bartender? How do you turn Joel from this guy who is known for some easy tail to a respectable attraction for the bar?" Killian then clapped his webbed paws together with a bright smile. “Start a campaign that guarantees that he will find a drink you'll like and if he doesn't, you get to sleep with him!"

Shaw's features fell.

Killian let out a bright, cheery laugh, reached out and slapped his shoulder lightly. “I'm kidding! I would never whore my hombres like that. I ain't no pimp." Then there was a little glimmer in the otter's eyes telling Shaw that he had just fallen into the otters trap. “But you've got eyes for our bull bartender, don't you?"

A blush crept up the polar bear's cheeks and he immediately looked away. “I… well… He's nice… and hot but…" Killian drew closer so he was forced to avert his gaze upwards to avoid the otter locking eyes with him. “… I got to admit, being with Amos kind of… 'awakened' something in me."

“Ooooooh?" cooed Killian, leaning even closer.

Embarrassment quickly forced a sheepish grin to crawl across his face. “I… I never thought I'd be attracted to big, muscled guys. My parents were kind of proud of me being a little 'average'. You saw Liam. I was with a guy like him for three years. Someone as big… ripped and…" He swallowed loudly. “… vascular as Amos just…"

Shaw involuntarily shuddered.

The handsome otter pulled back, giggling to himself. “Awww. You've got the Splits."

He threw Killian a puzzled look. “The what?"

Waving absently through the air, Killian said, “It's just this 'phenomenon' the JACKED guys see in our partners once they start hanging out or even sleeping with the others." He held up a finger. “You got into JACKED and our little circle because of one guy." Then he began raising other fingers. “But when you heard that we're in a sort-of-open-polyamorous relationship with each one, you kind of got squeamish." Then he spread his paws wide. “But when you started seeing what the others are like, their different bodies, their scents, their personalities and dicks well… you start asking questions."

Shaw's throat began to close. There was no denying that there were questions bouncing around in the back of his head. Questions about himself. His taste in men. His definition of a relationship.

“Questions like am I a top or a bottom?" Killian prompted. “Do I like skinny guys or big guys? Is it possible to love more than one person in that way?"

It was frightening how accurate Killian's words were. How often did he give this speech to people he slept with? How many guys went through the JACKED circle?

“Questions like have I ever tried out a double-edged-dildo?"

Shaw was immediately snapped back to the present and out of his own reverie. He was suddenly very aware of the Killian lounging back against the couch, legs spread in such a way that his bulge was clearly visible in the light of the television and his shirt rode up enough to reveal his amazingly ripped abdominals. The otter's eyes were half-closed, a sultry smile on his handsome muzzle while his defined and supermodel features were perfectly illuminated in dim light of the apartment.

Just seeming him like that stirred a desire deep inside Shaw - a hunger to be sated. Something in the primal version of the bear reminded him that he hadn't gotten off since Saturday when he had had that threesome with Amos and Joel.

It had been three days and he was throbbing for more.

“No…" Shaw mumbled.

Killian's eyebrows lifted slightly. “No you haven't tried a double-edged-dildo or no you don't want to give little Benedict a try?"

The polar bear swallowed loudly, forcing that knot that had formed in his throat down. “No, I've never tried that kind of… toy." He held up his paws. “Just to be clear, I've bottomed before! Liam would say that I would crush him with my weight so when he did get intimate, he was usually on top! Or we'd jack each other off… just…"

Another lump was quickly forming in the back of his throat so he had to say his piece quickly.

“I just feel weird that Joel isn't here."

Killian dropped the bedroom-eyes and gave him a little smile. “I guess it just comes right back to weighing the pros and cons, eh, jefe? Joel likes to cruise. Not going to lie, he might already be getting a few hits on Howler. You met him on a hookup app. You're right off a breakup. Are you looking for a relationship?"

Perhaps the only good question out of the ones that Killian had plucked straight out of his mind. Was he looking to date Joel? How could he when Amos had opened his eyes to a whole world of juicy, muscular men? Not that Joel wasn't fit in his own way but Amos was clearly a bodybuilder. Then there was Erick who had more mass than Amos - albeit not as lean - and was also a gamer. Then, right across from him was this handsome underwear model that was offering to try out Benedict with him.

Shaw closed his eyes, digging deep. Searching for an answer. Any answer. In the dark depths of his subconscious that had been polluted by Liam's gaslighting, a crippling breakup and a depression barely kept in check by videogames and fast food heavy with salt, he found the glimmer of something.

Not quite an answer but… something.

“I don't know," he admitted.

Killian tilted his head curiously.

“I just don't know," Shaw repeated, opening his eyes and looking the otter in the eyes. “I don't know if I want to be exclusive to Joel. I don't know if he wants to be exclusive. I don't even know if I want to be 'exclusive' to anyone after getting a glimpse of this amazing network you guys have."

The moment those words left his muzzle, that knot in his throat immediately eased. A weight lifted from his shoulders. Relief washed over him. For a moment, he looked at Killian with a confused look… then he let out a soft chuckle.

“I genuinely don't know what I want and that's okay," he said with a smile. “Because it means I give myself permission to find out without someone like Liam telling me what I want."

The otter's features brightened. “And if there's anything I can teach you tonight, jefe, it's that it's okay not to have the answers to the questions you have. You'll find them eventually."

Letting out another sigh of relief, Shaw slumped into the couch, staring absently at the ceiling. “Yeah… Yeah, it's okay not to have the answers. And it's okay to experiment." He draped one forearm over his forehead. “I tried things out with Liam. Tried answering questions about myself. I got the wrong answer. And that's fine. Now I'm trying something else."

“There you go," Killian laughed cheerily.

Glancing over to the otter, he smiled and said, “Thanks, man. Like I said, I don't think I could've done this without you. You're like my own personal cheer squad."

The otter puffed out his chest proudly. “It's what I do. I build up the hype!"

Shaw straightened, resting his paws on his needs. “Maybe you did your job a little too well." When Killian gave him a quizzical look, he pointed between his legs at his own throbbing bulge that was straining against his slacks. “I think I'd like to try out Benedict after all."

“Really?" Killian asked. Clearly he was trying to contain his excitement because despite the calm way he asked the question, his thick, rudder-like tail slapped the sofa eagerly.

“Since we're in the mood of answering questions," he said, shrugging. “I've got one we can answer right now."

The otter practically bolted upright and reached behind him, plucking Benedict from where he had hidden it between the cushions. “Let me give him a quick wash and then we can get started. Can you grab the lube?"

Killian was off heading to the kitchen to clean the toy. Shaw asked where the lubricant was and was directed to the space beneath the chaise. The bear pulled aside the cushion and was surprised to find a stash of different lubricants in there.

“Uhm… Which one do I use…?" he asked.

“Benedict is a big silicone puta. So grab anything that isn't silicone-based."

“Really…? I thought that would be the best thing to do…?"

Over the sound of rushing water from the sink, Killian said, “Cono. You've got a lot to learn." The sound of water abruptly ended and the otter returned, reaching past Shaw and plucking out a bottle. “Silicone lube will actually break down silicone-based sex toys. Water-based ones are the best here. Not to mention I don't want to do laundry."

“Oh… Okay…" mumbled Shaw, feeling a sense of awkwardness creep into him.

Killian gave him those bedroom eyes again and sauntered past him to take up position on the chaise again. As he did so, the otter's long tail slid across his back, drifting up his shoulder and brushing against his cheek. Shaw felt a tingle all throughout his body which focused and collected in his crotch, urging him forward.

The desire only increased as Killian unbuttoned his cargo shorts and began pulling them off, revealing his shapely ass hidden beneath a pair of bright, teal trunks. The tent in his pant was only getting more painful to contain especially because he was wearing very formal slacks which were designed to hide the bulge as much as possible.

Following his host's lead, he proceeded to unbuckle his belt but found himself struggling to find the latch. Soft, brown paws glided up down his arms, quickly taking over. Killian's muzzle pressed against his crotch, rubbing into his erect penis through the fabric and only stirring him more. The otter, expertly unbuttoned his pants, guiding them down his thighs in a slow, intimate manner while continuing to nuzzle his cock through the briefs that remained.

The otter's paws released his pants once he had brought them past his knees. This now enabled Killian to focus on the briefs that sat before him and his prize.

“Oh, you are big," cooed the mustelid in a low, sultry voice. Shaw felt the DJ hook two fingers past the elastic of his briefs, pull them away from his waist and then dip them over his erect cock. A wave of relief washed over him now that his member was fully free.

“Really big," gasped Killian. “Babe, if you were going to date Joel, I'm going to insist I have this…" For emphasis, he grabbed Shaw's dick, making the polar bear gasp. “… in me at least once a week."

“That… That could be a… a… ah!"

His own gasp escaped his muzzle. The soft and wet interior of the otter's short muzzle wrapped around his dick. Killian didn't have the advantage of Joel's long and dexterous tongue but with his shorter muzzle, he was able to form a very firm vacuum and a powerful suction that immediately had Shaw on the tip of his toes, bending into Killian's throat like the otter was sucking out his soul from his dick.

The powerful seal of the otter's muzzle was released with a loud pop and he eased Shaw back to reality with a few gentle strokes of his paw.

“Come on, jefe." Shaw felt something thick slap against his calves and he could only guess that it was Benedict. “Let's get on the couch."

Still a little dazed from the outrageous sensation that Killian had exposed him to, he stumbled clumsily onto the couch. He got on all fours just like when he had been with Liam but stopped.

They were using an entirely different toy. He had no idea what position he was meant to be in.

“Uhm… How are we…?" he began.

The sound of that lube bottle being squeezed filled the lounge room and he looked behind him. Killian was already on the move, disappearing behind him and just barely out of his line of sight.

“Just relax, jefe. I got this."

He braced himself, inadvertently clenching his ass as he felt the tip of that artificial penis gently press up against his sensitive hole. The lube was warm, making it a little easier. Recalling the many times that Liam had mounted him, he relaxed his ass, took a deep breath and allowed Killian to take control.

There was a little pause… then the tip of the dildo slipped away from his ass… down towards his perineum. The shock of having something brush up against the sensitive flesh made him bite his lower lip. Tingles of sensual pleasure and anticipation ran up his stomach, making the fur on his hackles rise. A little whimper left his muzzle and he squeezed his eyes shut halfway.

This was very different from when Liam fucked him. Liam attacked him. There was barely any foreplay. Maybe some kissing. Light nippleplay but then after that, it was straight to to ass. Killian was… pleasuring him. Being attentive to him. Making sure he had fun.

Oh my god… is… is this what it feels like!?

Benedict's tip brushed against his balls, making his cock spasm and spray a few droplets of precum onto the couch. Killian expertly traced a few circles around each testicle, drawing the infinity sign a few times against his furry balls. Shaw quivered in delight, keeping back more and more whimpers.

Please… I can't take it… Put it in me!

Despite his thoughts, he wanted the sensations to keep going.

When Killian's breath brushed up against his hole, he straightened and let out a gasp.

“You're safe with me, jefe," Killian assured gently, every word wafting into his ass and making his shake. “Relax."

Shaw closed his eyes and lowered his head against the cushions, bowing in reverence to this master of sexual stimulation. Killian slipped Benedict between the bears balls, pressing it up against the thick, erect penis. In the mean time, he pushed his nose against Shaw's ass, taking a deep breath and making the bear perform a full-body shudder.

The otter gently began sliding the double-edged-dildo back and forth, frotting against Shaw's erect cock. With each gesture, he pushed his tongue against the bear's hole back and forth. Each kiss of that tongue was a warm, piercing pulse of pleasure. It injected shots of heat throughout his entire body, melting the icy guard that he kept that had been built up from years of rough sex, emotionless sex with Liam.

“Please…" he pleaded. “Put it in me… please…"

He felt Killian smile and the otter leaned down, his tongue gracing Shaw's balls. The warm embrace of that muzzle brought a longer whimper from the polar bear. Then, Killian dragged his tongue up from the ursine testicles, across the sensitive perineum, over the loosened hole and finally up the base of the bear's tail. Every inch he traveled made Shaw lift his head in surprise, his green eyes wide like he had just awakened from a dream.

When Killian's tongue left his body, Shaw came down from heaven, moaning loudly.

“Now you're ready," Killian announced. “Get on your back, jefe."

Caught in the sexual haze - and the realization that the underside of his short tail was extremely pleasurable and a newly discovered erogenous zone - Shaw complied. He rolled onto his back, spreading his legs wide, holding his hamstrings in his paws and offering himself to the mercies of the otter.

Killian smiled at him gently and crawled on top of him. Their lips met. At first, he was a little hesitant to kiss someone who had literately just eaten his ass but then he remembered that bidets were standard in modern America these days. Furry species needed to have very clean asses or else they could literally be carrying waste around in their asses. Secure in this knowledge, he dove into the kiss.

The otter's kisses were softer, more sensual than Joel's passionate and intrusive ones that led with his flexible tongue. He wasn't sure if he preferred one over the other. They were both great and - just as he had recently concluded - it was okay not to know.

He released his legs, allowing them to curl around the half-naked otter over him. Heat from their two bodies collected between them. This compelled him to reach up and grab the hem of the otter's shirt and slowly peel it off. They had to break their passionate but gentle kissing to remove it from Killian's torso but the moment Shaw tossed it aside, their muzzled were meshing again.

Then he felt Benedict press up against his hole again.

This time, he was ready. He relaxed and allowed the first inch to enter him without difficulty. That feeling of being penetrated brought back old sensations and there would have been some irony in the fact that these were the same sensations he got from Liam's dick in him. Comparing the skunk's lovemaking to an inanimate plastic cock would have made him laugh were it not for the gentle and attentive otter wielding that very same cock.

That made all the difference.

Killian was patient. He eased Benedict into Shaw. The minute he felt a little bit of resistance, he waited a second or two before pulling it out and then trying again. Each inch buried into Shaw was a firework of pleasure that burned away those terrible memories. His cock ached and after the third inch or so, he could start feeling it pressing up against his prostate.

Then the kissing ended.

Killian straightened, confusing Shaw for a second. Then the bear remembered that this was a double-sided-dildo.

Oh boy… Here we go.

The otter teasingly shimmied out of his teal trunks and tossed them towards Shaw. He probably expected the bear to throw them aside. Primal Shaw picked up the underwear and pressed them up against his nose, taking in the salty and slightly floral scent of the otter.

“Oh, you like that, jefe?" asked Killian, a smirk on his features.

“I dooooo…" moaned the bear, taking another deep breath from the discarded trunks.

“Then let's see if you like this."

Killian rested on his back and gently slipped his legs past Shaw's. He gently cradled the bear's belly as he reached between them and gripped Benedict's haft. With an expertise that Shaw had never seen before, Killian guided the other end of the dildo into himself.

He's done this before!

I mean… duh. It was in his apartment.

Shaw couldn't pull on that mental threat for much longer as the sensations of Killian impaling himself reverberated down Benedict and into Shaw's own ass. The bear grunted. With every inch that Killian drove into himself, they came closer and closer together.

The touch of those strong legs around his waist only complimented the gesture. He gently grasped Killian's calves and pulled. The otter let out a cute little squeak as the force of the motion not only pulled him closer but also pushed the dildo deeper into him. It was the same for Shaw and the bear let out a heavy grunt as another inch drove itself into him, pressing up against his prostate.

Killian's warm paws grabbed Shaw's ankles and for a brief moment, they locked gazes.

A moment of understanding.

A moment to brace themselves for the inevitable burst of lust.

A moment that passed.

Both men pulled. Shaw moaned loudly while Killian let out a gasp. Another inch into both of them. Their cocked throbbed. Precum spurted out of Shaw's dick and onto his button-up office shirt. He barely had enough time to think about the consequences of staining his shirt before he was pulling again.

Killian was momentarily taken aback by the motion but did his own pulling a second later. Another inch and another moment of utter bliss. He could feel the heat radiating out of their balls which were so close now. The otter's tail thumped at the couch beneath them, acting as a little countdown to their next pull. On the tenth thump…

“Fuck!" Killian cried.

“Uuuuuurf!" grunted Shaw, eyes squeezed shut. The motion of the pull sent a waft of his own musk mixed with Killian's into his nostrils. Pheromones or just outright lust drove him into a hungry insanity.

He wanted more.

Shaw waited until the tenth thump of that tail and then pulled again. Their asses slapped together and his cock spasmed in joy.

Then he realized there was nowhere else to pull.

Good thing Killian was there to guide him. The otter expertly released Shaw's legs and gripped the couch. Using that as leverage, he pulled himself back, pulling the dildo out of both of them.

They locked gazes again and again, there was a moment of understanding.

Shaw, who still had a firm grip around Killian's calves, pulled, slapping their asses together and burying Benedict firmly between them. Both men howled in ecstasy.

Now they knew what they were doing.

With his paws still firmly against the couch, Killian pushed. Shaw gripped the dildo with his ass, savoring every second as its silicone veins dragged out of his sensitive flesh. Then, he pulled, impaling himself and Killian on Benedict.

Killian pushed.

Shaw pulled.

Push and pull.

They worked themselves into a quick rhythm, huffing and grunting as their cocks continued to bounce against their stomachs and slather precum all over their chests.

The pressure of pleasure was building inside Shaw's balls. Intense pheromones filled the air, clouding his mind and only making him want more. In one of the moments when he pulled Killian against him, he grabbed the otter's left foot and pressed it against his nose, taking a strong whiff of the other man's scent. Killian let out a fluttering whine as a result and basked in the sensation a moment before doing his part in their dance.

The next time he pulled, Shaw ran his tongue over the balls of Killian's feet. The otter roiled in pleasure, his other foot gliding down Shaw's sizable belly in thanks for the sensual kiss.

Push and pull.

As those feet came within range again, Shaw took the leap and placed Killian's toes in his muzzle, suckling on them, driving his tongue between them and making the otter squirm. Feeling his sexual partner react so positively to his actions was both liberating and immensely satisfying.

It made him feel… wanted.

Even more when Killian's other foot gently rubbed his cheek.

Push and pull.

Over and over again they worked Benedict between them. Every time Killian's feet came within range, he adored them, worshiped them, enjoying their taste, smell and heat while simultaneously reveling in Killian's reactions.

“Oh fuck, jefe!" Killian cried. “You're gonna make me cum!"

Push and pull.

Push and pull.

Push and pull!

Killian suddenly let out a cry, arching his back and extending his toes as much as they could. Shaw couldn't see but he heard the splatter of cum on the couch and grinned to himself in satisfaction. He grabbed Killian's foot and pushed it against his muzzle, drawing past his lips and suckling on them. At the same time, with his now free paw, he reached down towards his own cock. He didn't need to stroke more than a few times before his own dick rocketed with joy.

A fireworks display of cum erupted from his member, a celebration of one thing: satisfaction. Sexual satisfaction from this act and satisfaction in the knowledge that he had genuinely made someone else ejaculate.

For that moment, Shaw Feng was satisfied with himself.