The Trouble With Furries

by David Sharp

  Stina loudly set a couple of well vodka bottles on the desk. "Here are these." He gave Patrick a knowing look. "I'll leave the two of you alone to talk." Stina exited with a blast of disco.

  The music was muffled by the door when it closed. Daniel bit his lip and wished that he had not taken the blue pill earlier.

  Patrick folded his hands, then stood, and exhaled. "Chad is fired."

  "Fired...what? He was arrested, Patrick!"

  "He got himself into that mess, so that is his problem. You don't seem to care anyway."

  "I do care. I'm Xing...I took it before all of this and there ain't anything I can do about it until tomorrow."

  "It's all one big party."

  "Yeah, it's called Trade."

  "No need to argue, baby."

  Daniel laughed. "I'm not your baby."

  "I know."

  "It's been fun," Daniel said wistfully.

  "You don't love me?" Patrick tested the waters.

  Daniel paused and stared directly into Patrick's eyes. "No, I don't."

  "Go back to work." The color rose in Patrick's cheeks. "We'll talk about this when you get home."

  "Simple, huh," Daniel left it unspoken, snatched the bottles, and left Patrick to his own devices.

  *

  Back in the Studio 54 Party, Daniel felt lighter and relieved with a great weight off of his shoulders. The disco diva finished the seemingly never ending rendition of I Will Survive. Daniel found his bus tub on the floor, emptied it, and put the vodka bottles snugly inside.

  A stray hand snapped the waistband of his shorts. "Nice shorts."

  Daniel stopped and posed for the guy, then hurriedly returned to station seven.

  Eddie was enjoying a lull in the crowd. "What took you so long? I had to pour rum in the last guy's screwdriver."

  Daniel noticed the hunched guy at the bar. "I don't think he knows the difference."

  "True, are you alright?"

  "Chad got popped and I am single again. Other than that, everything is peachy keen."

  "The police are gone now." Eddie thought for a second, "You broke up with Pat?"

  "Sure did, right in the office."

  "You know you can always come home with me if you don't have a place to crash tonight."

  "We'll see." Daniel remembered the kiss in the ice room and it made him nervous of the jock.

  "Hey, will you watch the bar?" Eddie also remembered and did not want to go down that road.

  "What?" Daniel had never been asked before.

  "I'm going to dance. It's slow and I didn't wear this for nothing. Plus, I saw a couple of hot chicks down there and that's rare."

  "You would notice that. Go get you groove on, Eddie." Daniel was just as relieved at getting beyond the impasse.

  Daniel remembered all that he had seen when observing the other bartenders make drinks, and he was proud for getting it right. Time flew by, the effects of the blue pill receded, and the club cleared out. The trash was done. Daniel was alone at the bar doing a final wipe down when he saw a familiar chiseled face.

  Daniel muttered under his breath, "He'll do."

  Dean walked up to the bar. "You're done, right?"

  "I think so." Daniel was lost in Dean's blue green eyes.

  "Good, then you're coming with me."

  It felt like the ending of a strange fairy tale, with the fox gone, the wild beasts out of sight, and his sailor returned from the sea. Daniel gladly left everything behind and went with Dean.

  Chapter Twenty:

  In the following days Daniel forgot about his worries and was in love, or more likely lust. The animals were at bay for once. Dean's apartment was rigid and clean, Navy neat in efficiency. Daniel cooked, cleaned, and serviced his man in every way possible. The blue wolf was forgotten, out of mind, hanging in Patrick's closet. Trade too was forgotten.

  "No call, no show, no care," Daniel thought.

  Nothing mattered except for his sailor. The best moments happened in the shower. The hot torrent of water turned the skin red upon its touch. With his eyes closed, Daniel enjoyed those moments the best. A ritual of sensation began with the sound of the shower curtain sliding back followed by the heavy footsteps of Dean as he stepped into the tub. The magical coupling under the running water always put Daniel completely under the spell of Dean's blue green eyes. Those moments were pure ecstasy.

  *

  One night, Daniel was cooking a meatloaf in the oven while lying on a single bed in boxers and playing a Dungeons and Dragons adventure video game on Sega Genesis. He thought the graphics were good, much better than the Atari he had as a kid. His avatar was a mage and he struck the buttons with his fingers fiercely as he battled a wild beast through his robed character. His eyes drifted across the tidy efficiency apartment, calculating the neatness and the closet that had no animals hiding in it. Daniel's mage struck down the beast on the television and he collected spoils as he was leveled up on the game.

  In a short time, Daniel had lost his connection to his wild side and was completely domesticated. All of his belongings had been left behind in a whim when he walked out on his old life. Nothing he used was his, from the game he played to the clothes he wore. Daniel felt that he too was property of his alpha, and the idea comforted him. Dean had tamed him and he gladly took his place as a beta and settled into an isolated routine.

  The door unlocked and Daniel's eyes drifted again, this time to Dean as he walked inside. He felt his heart in his chest at the sight of his sailor like it was the first time he laid eyes on him.

  "What 'cha doing, baby?" Dean owned the space.

  "Playing D&D, I'm on level fifteen still. I can't find a way out. I know it has to be here, but I can't find it.

  "Let me see that," Dean tried to muscle in.

  "No, I want to find it myself," Daniel squirmed on top of the sheets.

  "Sure, you can have it your way," Dean clinched his jaw. "What's for dinner?"

  "There's a meatloaf in the oven," Daniel briefly glanced at his blond master, catching his blue green eyes. They were so like the ocean and just as hypnotic with their pull.

  "I'm starving right now and even that sounds good." Dean bent over and unstrapped his combat boots, tossing them into a corner.

  "Awe, you'll eat it," Daniel replied, distracted by his game quest.

  "I always do," Dean stood back up and stared at the screen. "Just let me show you how to get out of this part."

  "Hey, I'll find it. You already beat this game."

  "Damn right I did. I'm good that way." Dean walked purposefully in front of the screen, pausing to look over Daniel. Casually, he slid off his tight white t-shirt revealing a chiseled and toned body. Dean lifted his arms behind his head and stretched.

  Daniel shifted on the bed, losing focus on his mage, leaving it to walk in circles in the screen. He licked his lips and gazed at the faint blond hair of Dean's armpits. He was glad he was lying on his stomach at that moment.

  Daniel returned his attention to the game and the mage straightened out and ventured down a hallway to the cartoon-like outdoors of the game's matrix.

  Daniel heard the sound of a zipper and glanced at Dean in his bulging tighty whities. When Dean lay behind him, the warmth consumed him as it spread across his body like a warm flame. He knew what was going to happen next and tried to play the game despite that foreknowledge. The boxers were pulled away brusquely. The press of Dean's flesh on his flesh caused him to fumble the controller. More wild beasts attacked his avatar mage on the screen. Randomly, spells were cast and the staff was swung. Dean spat on his hand and Daniel dropped the controller in the middle of the fight. Rough hands turned Daniel's body to the side. Daniel closed his eyes and bit his lip as his pain threshold was passed. After the discomfort, everything was intensely warm, and it felt good.

  Daniel wanted to turn over and look into Dean's ocean eyes and feel his balls as he was being taken, but he was pinned to the bed. On the television screen, the beasts looked different t
o him. In fact, in his mind they looked like pixelated blue wolves. Daniel's mouth gaped at the sight of the animated pack. It was the first time he had even thought, consciously or otherwise, about furries. The image surprised him. He was sure that he had gotten past it, like a bad phase, and had put it away in some hidden place. But here being pounded by Dean, thoughts of fur returned. The pixelated pack devoured the mage, Daniel came, and the game was over. Dean's muscle bound body tensed as he climaxed and broke free. Daniel knew there would be no shower this time and rolled over to his side.

  The one thing that haunted him was that the animals were still in his head waiting in the dark for the right moment to pounce.

  *

  All good things come to an end. Daniel was still in shock from when Dean told him it was over. Out of the blue, Dean said he had to go back out to sea, back to the boat where the Navy called him to service. The plain talk shortly after, with Patrick on the phone, had been terse. But with the change of events, it was Daniel's only real option. So he had to tuck his tail between his legs and beg for a place to stay.

  The 1988 Mustang GTO came to a stop in front of the loft. Daniel put his arms around Dean's body and embraced him. Dean roughly kissed him in return and let Daniel rub the side of his shaved head, prolonging the moment, making it a real kiss.

  "When are you coming back?"

  "I don't know."

  Daniel swallowed, but his mouth was dry. Finding the words of need, his heart sank. "Will you call me?"

  "When I get back, I will find you, Daniel."

  "You promise?"

  "Sure - go on, now."

  "Okay - I...I'll see you around."

  "I said I would find you."

  "Take it easy, Dean."

  "You too, Daniel," Dean hugged Daniel close and strong. The contact was brief. He let go and gently, but firmly, pushed Daniel away.

  Daniel got out of the car, a duffel bag in hand. It held the original clothes he was wearing the night he left Trade and his whole world behind, along with some of Dean's clothes. The Mustang peeled out, leaving the loft and Daniel in a cloud of dust.

  The Montrose seemed deserted, but it was more likely a reflection of Daniel's state of mind. Absently, he reached into his pocket and caressed his wolf tail. The action brought him courage and he steeled himself for a confrontation.

  Amazed that the door key still worked, Daniel went into Patrick's loft. An overwhelming feeling of being a stranger in a familiar place swept over him. He set the duffel bag down in the middle of the floor, sighed, and walked up the spiral staircase.

  In the bedroom, Patrick was fixing his hair, slicking it back, getting ready for a night of bartending at Straps.

  "You look nice," Daniel broke the awkward moment.

  Patrick stared at him from the wall mirror. "This is probably a mistake."

  "Um, yeah...do you want me to go?"

  Patrick looked Daniel over, considering the options. "No, you can stay. You might be useful. But you are going to have to get another job."

  "Sure - thanks. I'll get my bag."

  "Put it in the guest room."

  "What? I thought you wanted me to stay."

  "The days of sharing my bed are over, buddy."

  Daniel's eyes darted to the closet and the blue wolf was gone. "Where's my stuff?"

  "You should have thought of that before you ran away."

  "My wolf - where is it?"

  "I put all of that crap in the guest room along with the letters from Chad."

  "Is he okay?"

  "Read them and find out. They were addressed to you so I didn't open them."

  Daniel sensed the anger rising in Patrick and backed off. "Cool, we'll talk later."

  "I'll be home late and not alone."

  "Sure, Patrick, whatever you say."

  Daniel turned tail and hurriedly made the steps down. Duffel bag in hand, he thought about bolting out of the front door but instead swallowed his pride and went to the guest room. The phantom image of the naked dancer sitting on a fire hydrant made him leery at the room's threshold.

  The inside of the guest room was small...much smaller than the master bedroom above. The bed seemed tainted and unkempt. A couple of framed posters of naked, male porn stars frolicking in the rain accented the otherwise barren walls, setting the tone of the room. The only other furnishings were a dresser and a full length body mirror. Daniel opened the closet and found his beloved blue wolf fur suit. Absently petting the fur, he could not believe he had been away a month with Dean, his sailor now on his way out to sea and lost to him once more.

  Daniel heard the slam of the front door and was glad that Patrick had left, taking the frostiness out of the air with his departure. Daniel set his bag on the bed and decided not to open it yet. Instead, he picked up the letters from Chad. Settling on the one with the oldest date, he tore open the envelope. Daniel ran a hand through his short hair, briefly glancing at his reflection. He read the letter aloud, hearing Chad's slightly country voice in his head.

  "Things never happen the way you expect them to, dude. I screwed up, but I guess the good thing is that it takes care of a warrant I needed to serve out. So I will be here a bit. I don't even know what they are going to charge me with yet. I hope you and Patrick are cool. Are my clothes and stuff still there? Come see me when you can. - Chad Bering SPN-1378534621"

  Daniel looked at the number at the end and somehow it made it more real. He set down the note as the images of his recent furry past with Chad seeped into his conscious thoughts. On impulse, he opened the second door of the double closet all of the way, relieved to see Chad's belongings inside, including the red fox suit. Daniel kicked a pair of his combat boots and found Chad's fox tail beside them. The fur made him feel better. He freed his wolf tail from one jeans pocket and dug into the other for his metal cock ring. In a zip and a tug, he put it on. Relieved, he attached the tail around his waist connecting it to the ring. A spin in front of the mirror brought a smile, but he felt the need to get out of the mentally suffocating loft to completely change his mood.

  Daniel dug into his pockets again, and finding his wallet, he searched its contents. Numbers of strangers on various cards and napkins, the two twenties Dean had given him, and some coins filled the main compartment. Under his identification card, he found Wesley's number. A like mind, another furry (one that worked at a fur store no less) would take his mind off of things. Maybe he could ask about a job.

  The phone was in the kitchen. Daniel punched in the seven digits and nervously waited for a voice or a recording.

  "Hello," Wesley answered on the third ring.

  Daniel imagined a giant koala speaking into the receiver. "Hey, this is Daniel. Do you remember me? I bought the blue wolf."

  *

  Daniel walked through the neighborhood. Patrick's borrowed Walkman not skipping was a small miracle of technology on the uneven terrain. Depeche Mode's Shake the Disease soothed the way to Wesley's apartment. The Montrose was a gay ghetto: a little seedy, but all of the bars and shops for queers were quite comforting. It was the one place in Houston where it was less likely to get bashed. Although it was not impossible, it was improbable to be bullied on one's own turf with safety in numbers, the safety of the pack. Daniel found the garage apartment off of Hyde Park Boulevard, down a few numbers on Hopkins Street.

  "Here goes nothing," Daniel said out loud as he walked up the gravel drive.

  Wesley, an awkward blond on first glance, bouncily answered the door. He was a little nelly in his mannerisms, but Daniel found him quite fetching with his charm and dazzling blue eyes.

  "I wasn't expecting you so soon."

  "I guess it was closer than I thought."

  "Come on in, sexy." Wesley gave Daniel a big, too long, hug.

  "Whoa, down boy." Daniel commented to both Wesley and the small dog that was jumping on his leg.

  "Katie, get down, girl. Go lay on the couch."

  The small hyper dog, a mix of Terrier and something
else, amazingly obeyed. Daniel stepped inside, surprised that the apartment was a complete garage conversion with two full stories, all very quaint but with a gay pizazz.

  "I like your place. It's much bigger than I expected."

  "Thanks. Come upstairs with me. I was folding laundry and listening to the radio.

  Daniel followed Wesley up the narrow stairs. Madonna gained timber at the top of the rise singing Rain. Daniel was at a loss for words and quietly watched Wesley fold clothes on his bed.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing is wrong."

  "I'll bet." Wesley got in Daniel's face.

  Before Daniel could respond, they were kissing. Wesley ran a hand under Daniel's white t-shirt, feeling his happy trail.

  Daniel pulled away. "I'm sorry."

  "I thought that's what you came over for."

  "I can't do this."

  "You know this is not the first time this has happened to me." Wesley was dejected.

  "No, you're cool. I have a lot on my mind." Daniel let out the truth, "I just need a friend."

  "Why am I always the friend type?"

  "Look, you are a furry and I need a furry friend."

  "Fine, let's start over. Hi, my name is Wesley. I am a koala."

  Daniel laughed. "And I am the big bad wolf. Maybe one day we can dress up and play, just not today."

  "Oh, wait a minute. I need to make something clear: I don't mess around in the fur suits."

  "Why not?" Daniel queried in surprise. "It is so hot. You can totally lose yourself and be something else."

  "I like the escapism, but when I have sex, I want to see who I am with and be with their real body."

  "Hell, Wesley, I don't want to be a mascot. I like being freaky."

  "Maybe we are wrong for each other, but if we are going to be friends, then I will show you another side to furry fandom one day."

  "Oh yeah, I would like to see that," Daniel said sarcastically.

  "One day, when you are ready."

  "Whatever, I just like what I like." Daniel shook off the defensiveness and added, "Are you saying you have never had sex in a fur suit?"

  Wesley folded a shirt over again. "I have tried it, but I want to be able to wear my suit in public with pride."

  "I see. Maybe I made a mistake coming over here."