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"Have you ever tried coke?"

"Well, it's a very popular soft drink so it'd be a bit odd if I hadn't."

Marty narrows his eyes and laughs a single, dry laugh. He picks up a bag of the white powder between two fingers and jiggles it back and forth in front of me.

"So the answer is no?"

"The answer is no," I confirm. I'm a mess of mixed emotion and muddled comprehension. I didn't expect to be so readily offered cocaine when I agreed to meet Marty today. A joint is one thing, a line is quite another.

When Marty called me this morning and told me we could meet earlier than he thought, that he'd even give me a lift down and that he had some fun ideas in mind, I thought he meant a little bit of green and maybe some bedroom fun. Cocaine didn't even register as a possibility.

"Hey, no need to look so scared. I'd never make you do anything you didn't want to." He says, leaning back in the armchair and cradling the small bag in the palm of his paw. He gives me a brief reassuring smile. I continue to dwell in my hesitation. He shrugs. "It was only an idea."

He picks up the box he took the powder out of in the first place.

"Wait," I blurt out instinctively.

I've never tried anything harder than weed before, I knew people in college that did and Adrian used to dabble, but I've always been pretty sheltered from it all. I try not to judge users as long as they aren't dependent or dangerous, but I've always stayed away from it myself. So why, when he's putting the damn stuff away, am I asking him to wait?

Marty's muzzle curls into a grin, he sets the box back on the side-table and wafts the little bag through the air.

"So, you want to try it after all." He speaks as though the decision were already made, his voice airy and self-assured as ever.

"I didn't realize you were into this kind of stuff," I say, self-conscious that I sound naive and infantile.

"Into it? Not particularly. I just like to have experiences that can ascend the dreariness of the everyday. I try things like this from time to time, I thought maybe you might want in." His tone is thoughtful and academic, not at all what I would expect from a junkie. I decide he probably isn't one, Ryan would have mentioned something like that to me, right? "I hope you don't think I'm some kind of junkie."

Why am I so damn easy to read?

"Of course not. I mean, you seem far too well put together for that."

"And now you're curious to give it a fair try?"

I take a moment to close my eyes and consider the question.

Do I, Kale Wool, want to snort a line of cocaine?

It doesn't help. I have no baseline context for the experience so the words are meaningless reverberations in my head. Fuck it. I could be making a mistake but, but it might be fun to try something new. I won't ever have to do it again. It's not like I'll get addicted from one snort, plus I don't really have the money to maintain it as a hobby regardless.

"Maybe I am," I say nonchalantly. He lets out another laugh and shrugs. "But you have a funny idea of what a first date should consist of."

"Ah, I'm sorry I haven't gone full normie like Ryan with a dinner date. Anyway, I would argue this is our second date."

"If you wanted to do something more exciting, I think there's probably a happy medium somewhere between dinner date and drug date."

"I'm not about half-measures."

"I'm learning that about you."

"Do you like that about me?"

When I met the two of them I thought Ryan a straightforward, brash type and Marty polite and introverted. First impressions can be deceiving or, in this case, completely useless.

"I think so," I say carefully, trying to be neutral. I like how forward and intense he, but it can be a little much at times. Offering me cocaine like it's no big deal? Okay, sure, but this is the upper edge of my limit. "So, do we do it now, or, uh, in a while?"

"Whenever you'd rather, I want you to feel comfortable."

"Is getting high right before your last performance a good idea?"

"The high is pretty short lasting with this stuff, I might be itching for a line but I can perform through that. I've performed through worse before."

I decide not to ask for details.

"Okay, all right then. Well, how about we chill out and chat for a little before diving in. I think I need to mentally prepare myself."

He frowns.

"And here I thought you were cool." He speaks dryly, shaking his head to affirm the mock-seriousness of his words.

"You said you love me the other day, and now I'm not even cool?"

"I'm not above loving uncool guys."

And then he's up, standing over me, pulling me out of my seat. Then we're face to face, our muzzles almost touching. I can't resist him and it seems he can't resist me either. Our muzzles part, our heads tilt and we lean in.

Every single time we kiss its a revelation. The way his paws cradle and stroke my body while his tongue tastes mine in perfectly prepared motions is unlike anything I've ever experienced. It's not luck, he's a damn expert.

Somehow he's unbuttoning my shirt and I'm okay with it. Then I'm doing the same to him. He pushes his fingers up through the fur on my chest until he's resting his paws on my shoulders. My own paws snake their way around his body and gravitate downwards, sliding into his pants and taking hold of his butt. I pull him in closer.

It's when he's unbuttoning my pants that I remember myself. Gently I deter him and we come apart.

"Something wrong?" He asks, his tone that of a disappointed cub.

"No, it's, I mean-" I cut myself off and make an unhappy grumbling sound. "Sex is great and all, and of course I want to fuck you, but this is like our first proper date where we can really get to know each other. I wanted to learn more about you and how the two of us might work together, not just fuck and get high."

He narrows his eyes and frowns momentarily, then sits in his armchair. He leans back and looks around the room, deep in thought. That's where I want to be: in his mind. I want to understand him and know what makes him tick. More than even Ryan, I find Marty an enigma.

I don't want to keep leading the two of them on, I want to make a decision about which one to pursue and which one to cut loose and I can't do that without knowing them. I hope I didn't fuck the whole date up just now, but I can't let myself be taken over by instinct when I have more pressing matters to attend to.

"You're right." He says. "Sorry about all that, I just get so excited around you."

I smile and wag my tail freely.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with that."

"Wagging your tail is only making you cuter. Anyway, as I was saying, you're right. We need to get to know each other if this is going to work out."

"I'm glad you agree. And, sorry for cutting you short there, I didn't mean anything by it."

He waves the apology away with a paw and a roll of his eyes.

"No problem, I was getting too frisky too fast." His easygoing composure returns and he cocks his head as he looks at me. "Tell me about yourself then Kale, what's your life like? What do I need to know about you?" I give him pretty much the same spiel I gave Ryan yesterday about my work and friends. He listens attentively and nods. Once I'm done he asks: "How is Adrian? I haven't spoken to him since the night we met. He seems like a good guy."

Caught off guard I hesitate more than I should.

"He's, uh-"

Marty capitalizes on my indecision.

"He had the hots for you didn't he?"

"Well, yeah, he did."

"To be honest I realized that the night we met. Before the evening was over I was certain you didn't feel the same way either."

"How did you know?" I ask, disarmed. Marty is an expert. Exactly what he's an expert at I'm unsure, but he is absolutely an expert.

"When you fucked him it was all about the physicality of it to you. When I first saw the two of you I thought you might be into him, but the way he came on so strong to you and you sort of just acquiesced... I don't want to come across as rude, but I saw it more as a pity fuck than love making."

I'm quiet as I ruminate on the otter's harsh words. I wasn't really conscious of my thought process at the time. I was a little high on weed, adrenaline and pure sex drive, but maybe Marty's right. Maybe that's all it was: a pity fuck for a desperate friend.

After an awkward pause "maybe" is all I can bring myself to say.

"I'm guessing you turned him down this week." He stares at nothing in particular while he speaks, as though considering the particulars of some complex mathematical equation. "I hope you two stay friends, you had a good chemistry."

"I hope so too. He didn't turn up to work on Friday, Eve let me know he said he'd be back on Monday. Hopefully we'll talk then. He said he was going to be busy all weekend too, so I couldn't meet up with him before then even if I wanted to. I really hope I haven't fucked things up between us." Marty nods curtly, frowns and presses a finger against the side of his muzzle. Curiosity gets the better of me: "is there something on your mind?"

"Well, it's only that-" He stops himself. "No, forget it."

"Go on, you can tell me Marty."

He pauses, considers me, then continues.

"Well, okay. But, let me preface this by saying I don't know Adrian as well as you. This is just my take."

"Okay, go on."

"Isn't Adrian being really unfair? He knows you better than anyone right? You turn him down and then he starts keeping you at bay, not even turning up to work. He says he can't even see you until Monday. He knows that's going to upset you, right? He knows that's going to make him stick in your mind like a catchy song. I think it's kind of manipulative of him to act like that. All you've done is be honest with a friend and now he's acting all dramatic and mysterious? It doesn't seem right to me."

Is that something Adrian would do? Would he really try and manipulate me like that?

Four separate thoughts appear in my mind and do battle. The first is what Ryan told to me yesterday about taking everything Marty says with a grain of salt. The second is Eve's recounting of the heartbreak she heard in Adrian's voice. That kind of genuine hurt can send a person to a dark place. The third are my own memories of Adrian, all the great times and moments we've shared together. The fourth is a simple question: What if Marty is right?

Ryan's warning could have been a mischievous move to help secure me as his plaything, Eve could have been projecting her own feelings onto Adrian's words and as for my memories of the guy, nobody is perfect and that goes for my favorite fox too. What if he really is doing all of this to fuck with me?

Damn it, I'm too trusting, the problem is I'm not sure who I should be trusting less. The last twenty-four hours have done more to fuck up my relatively stable worldview than any other time in my life since I lost my virginity.

"Even if that's the case, he's still my best friend." I say finally. Marty nods in a more genuine and understanding manner and leaves me to my thoughts for a moment. I do my best to shake off the worst of it and bring myself back to the present. "Enough of my drama, you're still quite the puzzle to me. You and Ryan both are to be honest."

Marty quickly regains his previous composure as he smirks in a manner more sly than I would have thought him capable. "The husky likes his privacy more than he lets on."

"I've been learning that." I stop and think for a moment. I don't know how Marty will react to the question but it's been nagging at me since yesterday and I need an answer. "Hey, Marty, what do you and Ryan do as your day jobs? Ryan said he wouldn't tell me until after I saw you for some reason."

"That's because we don't have day jobs."

He says it so casually that it takes me a while to process the information.

"Wait, what? How do you make money then?"

"We don't need to."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Marty sighs and shrugs before saying: "I don't know how wired in you are, but what if I told you my last name is Konroy. And yes, there is a relation."

"Wait, what? Konroy as in KE? Konroy Electric?" The questions come out before I really understand what I'm asking. He nods. Suddenly I'm picturing the brand's logo: a silhouette of an otter made up out of carefully curved bolts of lightning. It's not a company I have call to think of regularly, but it's one I'm aware of and they are a pretty damn large business.

"My father owns the whole thing, he's an incredibly wealthy man."

I feel dizzy. I wonder for a moment if in reality my life is the dream and when I go to sleep I'm really returning to the real world.

"What the fuck?" I exclaim through disbelieving laughter. "Is this another one of you and Ryan's bizarre pranks? What would the son of a multimillionaire be doing here, acting and asking out a nobody wolf like me?"

The myriad implications of the revelation swerve around my mind in manic spirals.

"I have to tell everyone I get close to eventually, so let me give you the brief version. My elder sister is in line to take over the business, don't worry there's no bad blood, I'm not interested anyway. No, my parents aren't particularly happy that my passion is acting on stage and not electronics but they're apathetic enough to leave me to it. Long story short I technically work for KE under some honorary title and that's where I get my stream of income from. I'd rather be independently financed and make acting a career, but I'm still fairly young and these things take time. I don't want my family connections to fast track me either, so I don't let them. It should be only about skill and determination. But yes, it helps that I have a lot of free time and disposable income. Yes, I'm a lucky bastard and feel free to refer to me as such."

The possible reality of his bizarre assertion begins to dawn on me. I have so many more questions.

"Are you for real?"

"Yes. I'm serious." He clearly knew I'd doubt him. After a brief moment of rummaging he pulls out some prepared documents from the draw of the side table: his driver's license with his full name on it, a photo of him with his father in front of their mansion - until now I didn't think I knew anybody who had even stepped foot in a mansion let alone lived in one - and an official-looking KE lanyard with a flattering mugshot of the otter adorned on it beside his name. The distinctively dark fur that Marty shares with his father is further proof, it's not the most important part but it helps the story coalesce and claim reality in my mind.

I guess that's all there is to it. He's telling the truth.

It seems like every time I think I understand things some new reality comes out of nowhere and punches right me in the face. Life is too complex to figure out, people are too intricate to understand and whenever you reach a new layer of comprehension the universe comes along with a fresh new set of challenges. Marty fucking Konroy, eh? What the hell am I supposed to do with that information? Was I supposed to see it coming or was it always meant to blindside me? Am I just being the gullible and unobservant, or was I never given the chance to figure this out to begin with?

"Fuck, you're for real." I say, my mind bursting with a million more questions. He nods as though it were all so simple. "What about Ryan though?"

"I recognized him as a kindred spirit the day I met him. Eventually I offered to share my lifestyle with him so we could both pursue our art without time and life being stolen from us by the dull doldrums of day-to-day work. He was eager to accept and here we are, living for our art, making a name for ourselves. To be more accurate, Ryan often has a couple of days of part-time work on, I really don't mind either way but it makes him feel better to contribute towards bills and such. Acting as the lead in this play isn't free work either, it's not like we survive solely off my father's business."

There's literally too much to think about, so I zero in on something I can understand.

"Living for your art? Hell that sounds great, and the two of you are good at it too. The reviews for your play have been excellent, that's why Adrian and I came to see it in the first place. It was jarring seeing the two of you up there when I didn't expect it, but you were both wonderful."

"Thank you, and we're pleased about the reception. Soon enough I think we'll land something more prestigious, perhaps a touring rendition of a classic." He has a joyful gleam in his eyes that warms me.

"You really love acting don't you?"

"More than anything."

"So why is a big shot like you interested in me?"

He shakes his head and laughs.

In the wordless moments his action affords me my brain tries and fails to comprehend this newest revelation. Well, if I can't fully grip what's going on, I may as well go along for the ride.

Marty fucking Konroy, eh? Damn.

"Love comes in all forms Kale. I can't explain it, philosophers have been tackling the subject of love for as long as they've existed and they don't have any definite answers. But it can't be such a mystery to you, surely. I don't care about your money or your status, I care about you."

"Thank you, Marty. I'm happy to take the compliment, if a bit bewildered." I close my eyes and tap my forehead, trying to jar loose the thoughts stuck there. "How come you live in such a modest apartment if you're loaded?"

"I'm well off, but not loaded. The money I get from KE is essentially just an allowance. I could afford something bigger if I wanted, but you know what? After living through my youth in decadent luxury with a silver spoon sown into my muzzle I got rather sick of it."

"Getting sick of luxury? I can't even imagine that, but here you are. I guess it's the same sort of idea for your modest car?" He nods. "I suppose there is tedium to all walks of life. How come you didn't tell me until now? It's a pretty big deal."

"You hadn't asked a relevant question until now. That, and I don't want people to be interested in me for my money and connections. I want them to like me for me." There's a certain fragility to him as he talks. It possesses me to reach over and take hold of his paw.

I lean forward, lift the paw to my muzzle and kiss it softly. "Well, it worked, I like you for you. Money never came into it for a moment."

There's a sad sort of smile plastered across Marty's face as he responds. "But now it will. It always does."

Against my better judgment, thoughts have already crossed my mind. A boyfriend from the maw of money and power. A potential husband, one day. Fuck me, life would be so different if I was his. On top of that he dedicates himself to his art above all else, that's incredible to me. Maybe I could do the same, I could learn to act or draw or play music or write. I could be the kind of person I never even dreamed of being because it all felt so unrealistic until now. No wonder Ryan took him up on his offer and moved to the States with him.

But I can't let those factors take control. He doesn't want that. Marty is an intelligent, talented and passionate person who kisses like a literal God. Money is just a side note. The way he said 'it always does' sends a shiver all the way to the tip of my tail. It sounds like a reference to past betrayals, or people taking advantage of him, I just hope Ryan isn't one of the perpetrators.

I hope I won't be either.

"No. I care about you Marty or else I wouldn't be here. Remember when we got a little drunk and high the other day. I felt like I was on another planet with you. You told me you might love me and to be honest I was wondering if maybe I felt the same way about you. I had no idea about the money then, and it doesn't make a difference now. I care about you, not about all that peripheral bullshit."

Marty holds my paw tightly, I stand up and he pulls me to him, teasing me with the briefest bliss as he kisses me for but a moment.

"Thank you. It means a lot to hear that."

I should feel happiness, or at least some kind of satisfaction, but something else is still nagging at the edge of my mind. I spend a few seconds weighing up the pros and cons of bringing it up before tossing out my working and speaking up anyway.

"Something was on my mind. If we end up making the two of us official what will happen to Ryan? Short term it's no problem but, you know, since he's mostly living off your money what's he going to do?"

"You're such a sweetie." Marty says, beaming at me. "Don't worry about Ryan, I'll help him as much as he needs while he finds a job and place of his own. I have industry connections as well, I could land him something easy if he wanted it. He's probably too stubborn for all that though. Sometimes I think it pains him that he's living off my money."

"He got me to pay for dinner last night, I guess that's because he thought it would be a little much to pay for a date with a guy you're going out with using your money."

"Yeah, probably. I wouldn't have minded though. I get it."

"I hope this whole 'dating both flatmates' thing hasn't made things awkward between you two. I'm sorry if it has."

He considers me for a moment and I'm suddenly conscious that we're both still shirtless. He runs a finger up from navel to my neck and says: "Don't apologize for dating people who want to date you."

He leans in and bites my neck gently, sending shivering shock-waves ricocheting throughout my body.

"Marty," is all I manage to breath out.

"How long are you going to string us both along Kale?" He asks, pulling away from me with a conspiratorial grin. For such a personal and life affecting question he asks it with an odd air of ease and irreverence.

"It pains me to keep you on the line like this. I want to come to a decision after the weekend. I'll do some thinking and let you both know this week. Monday if I can. God, I sound like a robot when I put it like that."

"Do you have any preference right now?" Marty asks.

Right here right now I'd say he is my preference, but maybe that's because he's right in front of me in topless splendor. I've never dated an otter before and I've always thought they were hot, maybe now's the time. Those thick tails drive me kind of wild too.

My spoken words are more impartial than my internal dialogue: "I'm trying to leave that kind of thinking until I'm back home. Sorry, I know it's not fair on you. Can I be a goof and, how do I word this? I want to stay friends with both of you no matter what happens. Do you think that'll work?"

"I'm sure Ryan will stay friends with you when you're my boyfriend, yeah." He says, his words oozing confidence, his self-assured smile causing a flutter in my heart. Whether the confidence is natural, acted or bestowed upon him by the wealth he comes from I don't know. Despite it I'm honestly not sure what I'll decide, money and thick tails be damned. Ryan has a damn good tail too and he has a thicker ass. Okay, I should probably stop judging dateability via thickness levels. Dammit Kale, take this seriously. This isn't a fling, this could be for life.

"Are all otters this brash, or is it just you?"

"No other otters are quite like me." His voice drips with sex and I have the sudden desire to strip him down and fuck him right here. I could do it too but, whatever my dick tries to tell me, my brain doesn't want to rush things. Marty places a paw on the bulge in my pants and strokes it tentatively without even looking down. Maybe he really is psychic. "Somebody's excited."

"Sorry, it seems you have that effect on me" I say. "But we were talking. We'll have time for that later."

I gently pull away and return to my seat.

"I hope so." Once again his paws go to the packet of white powder. "Are you ready to have your mind blown yet?"

I hesitate, I wonder if this really is a good idea. Then again, I'm not dumb enough to think taking one line is going to turn me into a cocaine addict and even if I wake up groggy I've had rougher work nights before. I'll be fine.

Plus, my mind is already fried by today's revelations, what difference will one more step into madness make?

"Okay, I'm ready. Let's do it."

My heart beats at an increasing pace as Marty carefully sets out two lines of the powder on the glass-topped table in the center of the room. Marty Konroy, fuck, every time the name comes to mind it's a fresh slap to the face.

Maybe I'm in shock. Maybe all of this is a mistake, but as he looks up with a pleased grin, his preparations complete, I know it's too late to back down.

"Do you want to take the first go or should I?"

"Uh, could I see you do it first?" I ask and he nods. "How often do you and Ryan do this kind of thing anyway?"

"Ryan? Pretty much never. As for me, I don't know, I don't really keep track of it. My best guess is I'll dabble in something stronger than weed about once a month."

"You don't ever binge or feel addicted, or anything?"

"Not really, I like to think I have a lot of self control. Don't worry so much Kale, it'll be fun."

Before I can get another word in, he's brandishing some kind of snorting straw - fuck, I don't even know what it's called - and he's inhaling the stuff in one eerily practiced motion. He straightens up and shakes his head in a brief, violent motion.

"Fuck yeah. Your go." He passes me a different straw thing and nods at the remaining line on the table. "Go, go, go."

It all happens so fast. I'm at the table, I'm snorting up the powder in a slightly more awkward manner than Marty had and then there's a half-second where I think it hasn't worked.

Then:

"This hits like a motherfucker!" I exclaim nonsensically.

"That's the fucking point you idiot." He's laughing, so am I.

God, this feels fucking insane. I feel better, stronger, taller. Fuck, no wonder this stuff is addictive.

"I think I want to punch a dinosaur."

"That's some serious speciesism." Marty says, all smiles and laughter. He grabs hold of me and pulls me down onto the shaggy carpet. Somehow he ends up straddling me, looming over from above. "Got you now."

My paws are already unbuttoning his pants.

"Actually, you've fallen into my trap. So I'm the one who has you."

"Hmm," He rolls off me and pulls off his pants and underwear at lightning speed. Before I know it he's got mine off too and my hard cock springs free right into his face. He's lying beside me now, his head level with my dick and his dick level with my face. This is amazing. This is life moving with perfect grace, like we're in some over-budget porno with Hollywood actors. What the fuck am I even thinking? Fuck it. "I think the truth is, we've got each other."

That's the last thing he says before my entire length is being made wet and warm in his muzzle. Everything is felt at ten times intensity. The sensation of his tongue and muzzle working at my cock is like one long, extended orgasm.

He's right, we have each other. I return the favor and open my muzzle to let his hard member in. He jerks his hips back and forth in my mouth and though I'm not as well practiced as he is, I manage to keep my head steady and not pull away despite feeling like I might gag at any time.

I do my best to follow his example. He moves his muzzle at an inverse pace to his hips, my cock is at it's deepest point in his muzzle while his is at it's most shallow in mine.

This fucking otter knows what he's doing. The world dissolves into a kaleidoscope of pure fluorescent color as I lose myself in pleasure.

Reality fades back into existence but life moves at hyper-speed. It can't be more than three minutes until I'm just about ready to plaster his throat in white. He can sense how close I am and pulls himself away just as a spurt of precum finds its way to the carpet.

"You horny fucker," he quips. I almost try to respond but then I remember his cock is still in my muzzle, so I come up for air first.

"This wasn't what I thought the cocaine experience would be like."

"First impressions can be deceiving," he states simply. "Then again, when I first saw you I though to myself: I'd like to fuck that sexy wolf. I don't feel any different now."

"We've fucked already Marty. Not that I'm saying we shouldn't do it again."

"When I say fuck," he grabs my butt, one cheek in each paw, and squeezes. Normally I wouldn't like that kind of groping, but right now it sends a jolt of pleasure right through me. Maybe it's the cocaine, maybe it's the adrenaline, maybe it's Marty, but whatever it is I'm enjoying his frisky paws today. "I meant getting on top of you and riding this ass, hard."

"Hey, hey, settle down. I do the topping, not the getting topped." I protest, keeping character for the moment.

"I wonder what makes you so firm on that stance," he licks the tip of my dick as he says the word firm to emphasize his point. His tongue feels borderline angelic. "What's your reason? Are you scared?"

The euphoria of the coke high loosens my tongue. Things I normally keep to myself tumble out of my muzzle freely.

"I think it's two things. First, I tried it a couple times years ago but I found it more uncomfortable than pleasurable. It's nice to be able to get the other guy off, but, well I guess that leads to my other point. I'm all about the whole getting-off part of sex and, to me, I kind of wonder what the point is if I'm not even gonna use my cock?"

"News flash, stud, you can get pleasure from things that aren't your dick." He pauses suddenly and taps his forehead, briefly in deep thought. "How about when we make out."

It's more of a command than a suggestion. He gets to his knees and pulls me to mine. I decide to take charge on a whim, knowing what he's about to do, so I'm the one who pulls him into the kiss. Moments later I'm on another planet where the atmosphere consists of sex and narcotics.

"Why do you always have to be right?" I ask.

"Hey, don't credit me with anything positive, I'm just trying to get on top of you."

Any other time, fuck, actually I don't know how I'd react to such a forward comment in a situation like this. Right now though, it gives me tingles.

"What makes you think you'll succeed in making me enjoy it where others failed?"

He just laughs.

"Have you met me? I'm Marty fucking Konroy and I'm the best."

I see no reason to disagree with him.

"Even if I wanted to I'm not, you know, properly prepared for something like that."

He waves a paw at the door to their shower room.

"We aren't in the middle of nowhere Kale. We have all the relevant amenities here."

I close my eyes in attempt to think, but my head is spinning so fast I start to lose balance. I can't believe I'm even considering this.

"You have some crazy talent for convincing me of insane things Marty. Dammit. I need think about this."

Instead of giving me time he changes the subject as though the previous conversation were a distant dream. "Your a big fan of ass, right?"

I can feel the high starting to wear off, but I'm still in the same ascended bubble as Marty for now so the jump between topics feels perfectly logical.

"If I had a slogan it would be: butt is the best."

"Decent slogan, but it could use some revisions. What about 'booty be the bomb', that has even more alliteration." We share a laugh, to us right now it's funnier than it has any right to be, whether due to the high, or the company, or the hard dicks I don't know. "Since you're such a fan how do you feel about rimming?"

"If guys want it I'll do it. It's pretty fucking hot when they're squirming and moaning on the end of my muzzle. Plus I can then use the excuse that my saliva is probably going to be enough lubricant."

"Does that excuse ever work?"

"Sometimes, yeah."

"Excellent. So, have you ever been rimmed yourself?"

"Never."

He shakes his head sadly.

"Kale, you are missing the fuck out. Even if you don't want to get fucked at least let me eat that fine wolf ass of yours."

My cock is still hard, eager and unfinished, pleading me for more action. My paw starts stroking it idly against the will of my conscious mind.

"I don't know, maybe I'd enjoy it, but I need to get off before I get ready for all that."

"A horny wolf like you can get off and still be ready for more, right?"

I nod eagerly. He pushes me back down.

"What are you planning?"

"I think you should lube me up, lover boy."

He kneels over me, positioning himself so his shapely butt is hovering over my muzzle. His thick otter tail waves back in forth in languid, mesmerizing motions above me.

"Yes sir."

"That's the spirit."

Nothing more needs to be said before my muzzle is between his cheeks and I'm lapping at his hole. I take hold of his hips and control his ever-escalating pleasure in the glorious remainder of our shared cocaine high. Every movement of my tongue elicits breathy gasps, moans and squeaks from the otter that directly correlate to my own second-hand pleasure at being in charge of him so completely.

Amid his own exultant state he notices my desire and goes back to servicing me with his muzzle as I pleasure him with mine. His pre leaks onto my chest as his mouth warms my cock and my tongue continues to elate him. I know I'm going to cum before having the chance to fuck him if I let him keep working at me like this, but trapped inside this heady state of joy I realize there's nothing wrong with that.

Somewhere in the haze of pure sexual gratification I start to fill his muzzle with a thick load of seed. Heightened by circumstance my orgasm extends into the stars and I exist on another, higher plane of existence while I plaster the back of his throat with spurt upon spurt of cum. This, right here, is perfection. Even better, the high plays the seconds out across glorious centuries that I get to live through in decadent luxury.

Once I'm done, and the kinky bastard has swallowed it all, we lay side by side panting as the world melts back into dull shades of gray.

I feel uneasy all of a sudden and I frown.

The words come out before I even give myself permission to say them.

"Do you have enough for another line each?"

It's not some kind of addiction it's desire, plain and simple.

Marty kisses the side of my muzzle. "easily."

We help one another to our feet and embrace lazily. Everything seems so much less important now, is this what life is normally like or is this just the comedown?

"You know more about this drug stuff than I do, should we wait a while or take more now?"

He drags a finger along the length of my spent cock and stares into my eyes.

"I was wondering if you might want to visit the shower room first," he suggests. The idea elicits simultaneous excitement and anxiety from me, leaving me speechless. He seems to read the indecision on my face. "Or we could just chill and chat for a bit while you make up your mind."

I nod. "Let's go with the second one."

He returns the nod, then shrugs. "Since we're getting to know each other, is there anything you wanted to ask me?"

Sick of thinking, I ask the first thing that comes to mind.

"What's it like being an otter so far away from natural bodies of water?"

Marty finds humor in my question and laughs before answering.

"It's fine, I swim at pools when I can but it's not like I'll die if I don't swim. To be honest, the one big thing I miss about the family mansion are the indoor pools." I don't fail to notice his pluralization while he stares wistfully at nothing, perhaps visualizing his old home.

A more pertinent question raises itself in my mind.

"Can I ask you something else?"

"Of course."

I'm about to speak when an idea comes to me and I abruptly stand, head into his and Ryan's shared bedroom and look around for a particular item.

"This isn't what I was going to ask, but now that I'm in here I'm wondering what you and Ryan will do about the shared bed if you decide to go all monogamous with me."

"Eh, I can get a second bed or sleep on the sofa or something. It's no big deal."

I nod absently, disinterested in the answer now that I've found what I was looking for. I take it from the top of the wardrobe where I'd first seen it all that time ago. Fuck, it was only a little over a week ago, yet somehow it feels more like a year.

I bring the framed picture back to Marty and show him, it's the photograph of him and Ryan that I saw when I first came here. The look of appreciation, contentment and desire that covers Marty's face inside the frame is matched only by his live expression as he stares at the picture. A tinge of melancholy infects his features.

"You and Ryan. You're so close. I feel like all this relationship stuff has driven a wedge between you and I wonder if I'm the one driving it home."

He turns away from the photo and his features grow dark.

"Me and Ryan are still close, but if we're further apart than we used to be it's about the two of us, not you. Ryan is... no, never mind."

"Go on, tell me."

"You know that night you met him, when I fucked up and walked in when I wasn't supposed to?"

"How could I forget?"

"He seemed to take it really personally, as though I'd tried to fuck up his night on purpose. He's always been a little paranoid, but I didn't expect that. I don't want to come across as insensitive, but... no, seriously, never mind."

"People seem to like keeping secrets from me lately," I say reflecting on my conversations with Ryan and Eve from yesterday.

"It's Ryan's way," he says, half reading my mind. His composure falters as doubt hits him. "Do you really want to know?" I nod. "I promise this isn't personal."

"Stop worrying, I trust you."

He frowns and takes the photo from my paws. Without looking at it, he places it face down on the table.

"Okay Kale. I was going to say that this whole thing with you is weird for Ryan. He never usually follows up with people after a night clubbing, no matter how attractive they are, it's just not his way. That's not all either, the way he was talking about you when he told me he was going to see you again, it made me think he was doing it all to get back at me for fucking up his night."

I let the words wash over me and sink in. Deeper and deeper into this convoluted mess I go.

"You busting in on us doesn't deserve such an extreme response, surely. Plus why would following things up with me even piss you off in the first place?"

"At the time I was still in to him. He knew that and didn't feel the same. He knew he could dangle that fact in front of me and hurt me with it. That's when I started to realize I've been chasing the wrong guy. But apart from that, well, Ryan doesn't look at the world in a normal way. You might think how he handled it was manipulative and overblown, but to him it's just another act. Like a part in a play. He wanted a reaction from me, that's all it was."

The tender honesty I had experienced from Ryan yesterday is at odds with Marty's words. How do I separate the facts from the fiction? How do I reconcile two incomplete stories into a complete truth?

"If it was a mistake for you to come into the apartment at all, what was that huge argument about? I get that it was an act, but you drew it out, if I recall correctly. There was a lot of please-let-me-in-Ryan. Surely if you knew it would piss him off you wouldn't do that."

He frowns and nods slowly.

"Well, it's two things. One: I wanted it to be realistic. I thought doing that might help appease him to be honest. The second thing is I didn't realize he'd take it quite so hard in the first place, I thought it might be fun for us to ham things up like that."

Everything seems to fit together, but I can't wrap my head around the particulars.

"But after all that you ended up arguing, right? So why were you there the next time me and Ryan ended up seeing each other?"

"He contacted you pretty suddenly, right?"

"Right, it was after your play."

"That's right. We argued after the performance, I think he sort of initiated that date with you to one-up me. He started going on about having a threesome with his new wolf he'd met, he got out his phone and started writing a text, using you to piss me off. He knew it would make me jealous and uncomfortable."

"Then why did you play along?"

"He's an adult and I wasn't about to start telling him what he should or shouldn't do. I tried to take the high road, stay calm and go along with it. You might wonder why he'd pick a fight when I'm funding his lifestyle, but we know each other too well and have done for too long for that to matter."

"So you think this dating stuff with me started because he was pissed off at you for walking in on us? That's a bit hard to believe. I know Ryan isn't your standard everyday guy, but that kind of reaction seems a little much even by his standards."

"Well, you're right, it would be an overreaction if that was all it was about. I'll put it this way, that event was the trigger, but not the underlying cause. There have been some, uh, difficulties between us recently. I don't really feel comfortable talking more about all that right now, but yeah, there's more to it."

The trigger? I remember Ryan crying, my knot still buried in him, as Marty left the apartment after their argument. At first I doubted my own actions and wondered what the hell I was doing there. When Ryan told me it was all an act I thought he was fucked up, but it intrigued the hell out of me too. Now Marty's telling me a third truth. If that was the triggering event from a larger context were his tears real? Was he pissed off and despairing at his roommate fucking him over like that? That doesn't seem quite right to me. It's like I have a jigsaw with all the pieces advertised, but none of them actually fit together.

It's all so much to take in: the implications, the possibilities. I can't get a fucking break from this mental bombardment, can I?

"So when we met you two in the bar, and we ended up heading back here, that was all Ryan's plan to hurt you?"

"Basically. Remember, when Ryan saw Adrian he got awfully flirty very quickly. I don't want to hurt your feeling but at the time I don't think any of it was about you. He likes to take control of situations and Adrian was a rogue element, he had to convince him more than the rest of us."

"Please tell me this whole conversation is all some drug induced hallucination."

"Unfortunately not. The funny thing is Ryan's plan backfired. Meeting you and Adrian changed me. I saw in Adrian a reflection of myself, somebody lusting after a person who doesn't want them back. And then I saw in you, in our moments in the bedroom smoking and talking and sharing that kiss, I saw somebody I wanted to go further with. Ryan tried to hurt me, but he opened my eyes."

I didn't think any of this was simple to begin with, but now I'm realizing it goes far deeper than I could have imagined. All the swirling lies and half-truths are starting to get to me.

"So, if you're right about all this, what do you think Ryan is playing at now? He went out with me yesterday and he seemed pretty genuine, he even opened up to me a bit."

"Maybe he's figured out that you're not so bad after all or maybe he's keeping it up to spite me. I really don't know."

I need to see the husky again and set things straight. Then again both of these guys are accomplished actors and I'm bad at detecting liars in the first place, if one of them is lying to me then how would I even know about it?

I feel like I'm in a no-win scenario.

"If there's all this tension between you, why do you still let him live here?"

"We're still friends," he says, shaking his head. "And that won't change, no matter what happens between us. I guess you and Adrian are the same."

I remember the fox's words, him saying that no matter what happened he'd be there for me when I need me. Then I think about the way he's dragged himself into seclusion this weekend. Maybe he just needs space, or maybe Marty is right and he's trying to manipulate me, or maybe he doesn't want anything to do with me anymore. My head hurts.

"I hope so."

Marty can read the turmoil on my face. He hugs me so tenderly it's as though we've been lovers for years and he knows exactly how to make me feel safe and warm and loved all at once.

We stay still in silence for a few moments as the world continues to drag itself ever onward. I want to blast all these worries and doubts away. I want another line.

I think about what Marty offered regarding me freshening up and then doing a line before sex. It's a whole lot of new experiences all at once, and I'm not sure if I'll like any of them, but it sounds fucking intense and intense is what I need right now.

"I think I'll head to your shower." I say. Marty lets go of me and shoots me an are-you-sure kind of look before his features straighten when he realizes that I'm not backing down.

"That sounds good to me."

He taps my butt as I walk past and he blows a cheesy whistle.

"I would normally say something like: don't get any ideas. But given the circumstances..." I shrug, he laughs and then I'm in the shower room. I close the door behind me and suddenly I'm alone.

I turn on the shower and the pattering sound of water soothes my mind. I lose myself in the mechanical motions of preparation, doing my best to avoid thinking. Still, some unwanted thoughts slip through.

What is Ryan playing at? Is Marty just exaggerating and giving me a biased perspective? Both him and Ryan have potential reason to want to badmouth the other. I need to talk to Ryan again. This is all so fucked up. At least for now I can get high, get fucked and forget about the rest of it.

So, I'm excited about getting fucked? This is new.

Soon enough I'm shaking off the worst from the shower of the water and toweling myself down. As I walk out I'm greeted by the sight of Marty sat down, stroking his hard dick and staring at me.

"Fresh out and squeaky clean. Are you still up for this? I'm not about to force my way on top of you."

My eyes drift to the table and I see he already has two lines and the snorting straws set out neatly. A strange sensation passes through me, a kind of melting pot of dread and excitement. I make mistakes often and I'm conscious this might be another one, but then again I'm probably overthinking it. If there's anything I want to stop doing right now it's overthinking things.

"Fuck it, let's do it." I say, toweling myself down one last time. After, I hold the towel up, wondering where it should go, Marty signals for me to drape it over the radiator so I follow his command. I'm still a bit damp, but getting completely dry in just a few minutes without a full body heater is pretty much impossible with fur of my length, maybe Marty could manage it.

A flash of anxiety passes over me. Am I sure I'm ready for this? Oh hell, I'm more worried than I thought I'd be. It shouldn't really surprise me, I haven't been fucked in quite some time. It's at moments like these that I wish I could channel my inner Eve and listen to her sage advice. She always seems to know exactly what to do.

"Fuck it? That's a good answer." Marty goes to the table and raises his cocaine snorting straw thing, I join him silently and he passes one over for me. "How about we do it at the same time?" I nod my head. He counts down from three to one with his fingers. Then: "Go!"

We both snort our lines in one constant motion and then lift up, wide eyed and flinching.

"Fuck me!" I exclaim.

"Fuck yes, of course I will," he says. I didn't mean it in that way, but I see no reason to correct him.

The world ignites itself in a glorious blaze. This is going to be fun. All the anxiety I had felt disappears almost instantaneously.

"Be gentle," I say, because it sounds like the kind of thing I'm supposed to say. He laughs low and drags me through to the bedroom.

I'm lying face up on the bed and then he's on his knees, muzzle between my legs.

"I wouldn't worry. Tongues generally are quite gentle." He takes hold of my rump and squeezes. I have to admit, it's kind of nice, even if it's something I'm not too used to. He nudges my tail and I move it away it in the same way I've seen other guys do for me so many times before. There's something exhilarating about finally being in the opposite position. "You've still got a bit of a damp dog smell and feel to you but, to be honest, I kind of like it."

"You kinky bast-" my breath is stolen as his tongue finds the edge of my hole. I'm instantly transported to a world of cascading pleasure as his tongue traces slow circles. Now I'm the one moaning in pleasure as another guy teases me, readying me for more. I experience a sense of pleasure more complete and overwhelming than I've ever felt before. Why the hell didn't I try this earlier?

It's as though my mind is expanding exponentially as I succumb to the primitive pleasure centers of my brain, soon enough the whole universe will be within my grasp.

And there it is.

I cradle it all in my paws and turn it over, examining every little detail and then...

And then there's an explosion of color. A rainbow pulsating through a billion different shades every second. I've found a state higher than bliss.

Something hits me, a memory. A train with no stops. I'm too late. It's that bewildering, disconcerting dream I couldn't make sense of. What am I doing? Am I wasting time? Am I missing something important? The drug must be messing with me.

Using a great deal of effort I center myself mentally and push the thoughts aside. Now is not the time.

I find myself back in the present, and after the seconds it takes me to completely clear my mind I find myself again enraptured by Marty's skilled muzzle as he laps at my tailhole, sending twitches, shivers and moans reverberating throughout the entirety of my being.

When he pulls away it all feels too soon, but the truth is I've lost track of all time and therefore have no basis on which to make that assertion.

"That should be enough lube for you right?" He asks with a borderline cocky smirk. He's using my own line against me, I almost want to let is slide but...

"I think some real lube might help. I haven't done anything like this in a long, long time."

He nods a reassuring nod and leans down to kiss me for a tantalizing moment. In seconds he's back to teasing my hole, but this time with lubed up fingers. A new rush of exhilaration pulses through me as I face exactly what I'm about to be doing. It's exciting and a little scary. Me, bottoming? it feels unreal.

Then we're all ready and he has my legs in the air, his cock poised in position.

"Don't worry Kale, I will honestly be gen-"

My phone rings and cuts him off. Bad timing. I should have put the damn thing on silent but instead it's buzzing and bleeping out from the living room, still inside the pocket of my pants.

"Fuck, sorry. We can just ignore it."

Marty sighs and shakes his head.

"It's okay. I'll grab it so you can put it on silent or turn it off." He leaves and a degree of annoyance builds inside of me. I'm here trying to have fun and enjoy my weekend and somebody rudely interrupts me at the worst possible moment. Eve knows I'm busy, Adrian said he wouldn't talk to me until Monday, so who is it? Marty comes back through, clutching the phone as it rings for a final time. "It's Adrian apparently. I thought he wasn't talking to you this weekend."

"So did I." Marty passes me the phone. I stare at the missed call notification for a few seconds before setting my phone to silent. "He's got balls to cut me out like that and then call me out of the blue when he should know I'm going to be busy."

"Maybe he's doing it on purpose, to make you think of him and ruin your time with Ryan or I?" His expression shifts quickly to one of discomfort and his eyes dart sideways. "Sorry, I shouldn't say that, I'm making assumptions."

It's an assumption but it doesn't strike me as a necessarily false one. In the middle of my high I feel above it all, looking down at the whole scene from far up in the clouds. Surely Adrian knew I would be busy today.

"He's been acting weird lately, I don't know what's got into him."

"He still wants you, clearly." Marty delivers the words flatly, not giving away his opinion on the matter.

"But Eve and I made it clear to him that I'm not interested." Marty doesn't have a complete context for the situation, in a way he's an outsider to my relationship with Adrian, but still I need somebody to bounce my thoughts off.

"He seems to believe he still has a chance. I don't know, maybe I'm wrong, but you've made it clear you don't want him so if he's going to act like this maybe you should just be blunt with him."

I hesitate and stare at my phone again. It starts vibrating as I receive a second call, silently this time. Of course it's Adrian again. I cancel the call and send him a text telling him to leave me alone, that I'm busy spending time with Marty and then I turn the phone off completely.

"Done," I say passing the phone back to him. He forms a wide, approving smile and nods, then places the phone on the bedside table. "Now then, son of a millionaire, you better start riding me soon while the cocaine's still going to my head."

"That sounds like a plan to me."

We're right back in position seconds later, and despite the high and the head rush I'm still a little scared. It's too late for that though. I scrunch my eyes shut as he enters me and I let the expected uncomfortable feeling of being filled settle over me. I breathe slow and steady. This is what I wanted. He's deep inside me and there are too many feelings to focus on. I'm reaching my limit.

"Wait there." I blurt out.

"Oh, okay," he lets out a grunt. "This feels fucking amazing though."

He holds steady and I give myself some time to get used to it all. The sensation of pain and discomfort lessens as I start to acclimatize myself both mentally and physically. I open my eyes to find him staring down at me with an expression of pure dreamlike content. I smile.

It's surreal, like an out of body experience. Surely I should be up there, not down here.

"Okay, okay. Go ahead, but go slow."

His motions elicit a chain reaction of new feelings and emotions that burst forth in relentless succession. It's too much to take in or quantify so I let it all consume me as he rides my rear amid our shared, intoxicating high.

Thrust after thrust after thrust I lose myself and find myself a dozen times over. All my senses are firing at two-hundred percent. I feel everything with a sense of crisp certainty and precision that cements the whole scene into my mind.

Damn, I'm being fucked by a hot otter.

Putting it so plainly somehow intensifies the whole experience. It's something simple and sexy, something everyday, yet it's something entirely new to me.

Due to my anxiety and the barrage of confusing, conflicting feelings my cock started the encounter off sheathed, but with each passing thrust it pokes its way out a little further until my hard cock is bouncing up and down off my chest as Marty rams me.

Regaining some mental and physical control I have my tail find its way to his and wrap around it as it had on the night of our first kiss. He laughs and beams a confident grin as he slows his pace.

"Beginning to enjoy it all?" He indicates my hard, twitching cock.

"You noticed?"

"Do you know what the best thing about fucking a top is?" He doesn't wait for me to answer. "They always have a tight ass."

Before I can laugh or retort he's railing me with twice the speed and intensity as before and I become nothing more than a mess of moans of mixed emotion.

Aside from the discomfort stemming from my lack of practice, I can't quite tell whether I'm feeling pleasure, lust or simply pure exhilaration. Whatever the truth is I'm not complaining. Maybe I'll reconsider once I see how sore I am in the morning. Silently I'm thankful to Marty for the relatively vanilla sexual experience; one simple position and good old thrusting is all I wanted, I don't think I could deal with much more than that right now.

All other sound is blotted out by our cocktail of panting, grunting and moaning. It strikes me that Ryan and Adrian are going to be jealous about this. More than anything I'm surprised that Marty, of all three of them, is the one who found his way on top of me. He seemed the least mischievous of them to me, clearly I was wrong.

By the way his motions gain urgency and power I know he's getting close. I grip the bed tight and do my best to stay steady through Marty's relentless rutting.

I feel the sheen of the world start to dissipate as the euphoria from the cocaine winds itself down. By force of will alone I manage to maintain my grasp on the shimmering sensation of the high for a little longer.

Marty lets out an especially guttural grunt, leans down and locks our muzzles in a kiss as he thrusts his cock hard, all the way inside of me. He moans softly into my muzzle as we taste each other in a perfect moment, our tails wound tightly together leaving us joined at three different points. His whole body twitches with his final half-thrusts as he shoots his seed inside of me. It's a complete overload of physical and mental input. I'm helpless to do anything other than accept it all and give in to him.

Amid our kiss and the petering moments of his orgasm I hear the apartment door open. My mind is too flooded with thought to properly comprehend what that means. Moments later when I see Ryan, standing outside the room staring at us with an open muzzle, the implications coalesce into tangible reality.

Marty pulls out of the kiss and turns to his flatmate.

"Hi Ryan," he says chirpily with a waving paw, cock still deep inside of me. "Time really does fly."

"What the fuck is going on? We have to get ready for the performance and you're high off your head riding the damn wolf. You said he'd be gone before I got back and instead I find you on top of him?"

Marty looks down at me and then back up to Ryan.

"Yeah, that about describes it."

The high crashes down around me and the beginning stages of panic start to worm their way inside my psyche. I really lost track of time here, it seems Marty did too. I feel like I should say something but my throat is glued shut.

Marty pulls out of me abruptly, causing a physical shock that's only lessened by all the other kinds of shock and confusion I'm already experiencing. He walks naked to the bedroom door and leans against the door frame with a bare shoulder. He stares at Ryan with arms crossed.

My head hurts.

"I get it. You're jealous because I won our little bet about who'd get on top of him first." Marty says, his tone playful and sarcastic, but honed with a sharpness that I hadn't heard from him before.

I stagger up to sitting position.

"Are you kidding? I'm pissed because you're high before the performance and you lied about being done with your date by the time I got home. What's your problem? Not to mention that it's a little fucking rude to put the poor wolf into this compromising position. I bet you didn't tell him I'd be home by now did you?"

They continue to talk about me in third person. Instinctively I get to me feet, still naked, ready to leave at the soonest possible opportunity. Things are getting awkward fast. I don't know what to say, or even if I should say anything at all, so I stay quiet.

"Hey, Ryan, you're overreacting. We just got carried away and I completely lost track of the time that's all." He reaches out towards the husky, but Ryan quickly brushes his paw away.

Ryan catches my eye, frowns, and then furrows his brow in Marty's direction.

"Yeah, this is all a complete accident. You didn't fucking start shooting your cum inside him the moment I got in - exactly when I said I'd be home - on purpose or anything now did you? And for fuck's sake move, you're blocking his way. He clearly wants to get his damn clothes on."

Marty shifts abruptly and I stand frozen for a moment in total information overload. I need to take this one second at a time. First off I need to leave the room, but it feels like I'm forgetting something. I look around, but nothing catches my eye so I continue into the living room and pick up my clothe from where they were strewn across the floor.

"Oh come on Ryan, now you're just being paranoid. I was high and fucking a hot wolf and here you are, crediting me with planning to present you with this exact scene at the moment you got home. Isn't it more likely that you're jealous and taking it out on me?"

It's like I'm not even here. I'm starting to feel a little sick.

I kind of want another line and I kind of never want to use anything more intense than cigarettes ever again.

Ryan growls at Marty and I flinch. I've never heard him growl in anger before, it's rare to hear anybody growl like that outside of movies and over-long family gatherings.

"Marty," his tone is hard and at threat of bursting with barely restrained anger. "You can be a real cunt sometimes."

Right now I can barely follow the conversation. My head still isn't on straight. Thankfully my pants are on instead, which is more immediately useful to me.

"I think you're overreacting Ryan. I'll be ready in time, don't worry."

"Yes, you will be," he says, visibly struggling to avoid an outburst. He turns to me again and flicks his tail to one side. "I'm sorry about all this Kale. You don't need our conflict in your life."

"You're right, he doesn't, and he wouldn't have to deal with it if you didn't make such a fuss."

Ryan stares daggers at the otter then, without another word, he stomps into the bedroom and slams the door behind him.

Marty opens his mouth and closes it. His whole face droops. For a few seconds he seems lost inside himself.

He looks at me, forces a weak smile and mouths the words 'drama queen', pointing his thumb back at the slammed door.

I'm finally fully dressed and it's only now that I find my voice.

"Well, I guess I'll be off then," I say.

My words and placid tone are ridiculous given the context, but I have no idea what else to say.

"Sorry about all that Kale, we really shouldn't have dragged you into our argument."

I hold up open paws.

"Hey don't worry, it's fine."

I don't know if I actually believe that, but I can't find better words.

Marty considers something, takes a step towards me and talks so softly there's no chance of being overheard: "you see what I mean about him though. He's inventing ways to be mad at me. Maybe I lost my cool a bit there, and I'm sorry for that, but he's trying to show me up in front of you and take the high ground. I don't want to- Uh, look. He's not a bad guy, but he has a vindictive streak."

My head spins, it all seems to make sense but none of this quite feels real. I file his words away for later processing. Right now I'm not really sure of anything.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Hey, I hope this didn't ruin our date. I've honestly had an amazing time getting to know you and, well, getting to do some other things with you too."

He winks, then goes in for a final kiss. Even now I can't resist. In the dull comedown of the high and the uneasiness of the friends' argument I thought it wouldn't excite me, but somehow he still manages to. His muzzle is magic, it must be. I'm already longing to explore it again by the time he's waving goodbye.

"I'll text or call soon, that's if you don't get in touch first of course."

"Okay, that sounds good."

I'm still lost in a mountain of questions and considerations.

"I would offer you a lift but I've really got to get ready."

He smiles a confident smile, seemingly unaffected by his argument. He wishes me a good evening and nods as he closes the door behind me.

Life's a blur until I'm home. The only thing that's clear to me is that my ass is sore, my throbbing head is angry at me for making it deal with weird chemicals and I really need to smoke.

I chain smoke three cigarettes on the journey home and thankfully they help calm my mind, if only for a little while.

I collapse on my bed as soon as I'm in and spend a few minutes gathering myself in closed-eye darkness.

So Ryan is just using me to get back at Marty? Or at least that's how it started. Adrian might be acting manipulatively to engender some kind of sympathy from me too. I'm not sure if replying to his calls the way I did was the right decision, but it's done now. What about Marty? Was he trying to piss off Ryan at the end there? To what end? To make it more confusing, Ryan implied yesterday that I shouldn't trust everything Marty says. I think.

Wait, but if Ryan is using me to get to Marty then that could be part of his plan. But if Ryan was right about Marty then...

Oh, fuck it. I'm going nowhere fast with this circular thinking. I need some time to let it all sink in, this speculation can wait until morning, or longer. For now I need a rational voice, I should text Eve and see if she's free.

I feel for my phone in my pocket and dread builds in my stomach. For fuck's sake. I left it at Ryan and Marty's. I thought I'd forgot something. Damn it. I can't get it today unless I go after their performance, but with all the tension between them I'd rather not see them again so soon.

My life is slowly going further and further off the rails. Hell, maybe I'm overreacting. The problem is I don't know how to properly process anything that happened today. He's Marty fucking Konroy? Oh and I took coke and got fucked.

Somehow those little details are just the tip of the iceberg.

My mind races.

Maybe it's an aftereffect of the drugs, but it feels to me like nothing makes sense.

It's not late enough for me to go to sleep, but right now there's nothing else I'd rather do. I want to stop thinking.

It's been a full week since the husky hooked me in with that damn tail of his. It's been a full week since I met Ryan and Marty and my life got flipped over and fucked hard. So much has happened so quickly that I'm losing track. Everything seemed so simple and sexy and now I'm falling deeper and deeper into some sort of endless pit of uncertainty. It seems like my life is turning into a mess of raised tails and tales razed.

Hours tumble past in a pointless daze of consideration and confusion.

Somehow all I can think when I finally drift to sleep is: I miss my fox.