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The Chameleon's First Time Sponsored by Lorvianne By Draconicon

Alex hadn't been feeling well for over a week, which was something of a first for the chameleon. Considering his hypochondriac family, sickness tended to stay away. Or was scared away, he wasn't sure which. Most of the other chameleons beat it out of each other so firmly that he was half-sure that people got better just to avoid the 'treatment' that came from being ill.

Thankfully, he was able to hide it at home, but as soon as he walked out of the apartment door on his way to school, it hit him like a load of bricks. Fever, fatigue, chills and hot flashes by turns; all of the cruddy feelings of a cold that had morphed into a flu, and then some. They left him sagging, his tongue lolling from his mouth as he didn't have the energy to coil it back inside. Every step sent a twinge up his spine, and every other step on the stairs made him want to just throw himself down and just make it stop.

Not that he would. His dad would hear, run him to the hospital, and then when he got back, his mom would throw him down the steps again just for making her worry so much.

So why was he going to school? Because if he stayed, it'd be the electric blanket turned up to cooking temperature, cold pads on his forehead and neck, and worse jammed down his throat. For all that he was suffering, he was not going to add to it by staying home and letting them find out that he was this screwed over.

Besides, he wanted to pick something up from the comic shop on the way home from school, and he couldn't do that if he didn't go.

The green-scaled chameleon trundled down the steps of the apartment building, wincing more and more the further down he went. At the halfway point, he paused to roll his tongue up and shove it back into his mouth, only for it to fall out again partway to the bottom floor. He left it that way, shaking his head.

As soon as he walked out the front door, it got worse. It must have been the sickness, because he was imagining things. Swearing that he could feel disgust and anger pouring over him from the people on the sidewalk and down at the bus stop. It was like a series of annoying, almost painful pokes right in the face as he walked over to the bench.

"Nnnngh," he groaned as he sat down, starting to shake his head only to stop as soon as the headache started. "Fuck..."

"Hey, shut up, freak."

The chameleon did as he was told, pulling his backpack around and resting it on his lap. Sure, it made his thighs ache a bit from the weight of it, but it was better than being completely unprotected in front. Sometimes, the bullies used this stop instead of the one a few blocks up the road, and...well, it never hurt to have a bit of armor.

He shuffled as the pair of jackals standing by the sign groaned, muttering to themselves about him.

"Who's he think he's kidding? Bet you that he's just trying to look like one of those heroes with a long tongue or something."

"Yeah, I mean, that's just fucking gross. He should put it away."

"And those eyes?"

"Jesus. Looks like some sort of mutant or something."

They were familiar comments, and ones that he was used to hearing on a daily basis. Ever since he had his first day in elementary school, they'd had stuff like that to say. His tongue, his eyes, the way that his tail curled up tight to his spine rather than being loose and wavy like other species: it was all subject to mockery and teasing.

It'd only gotten worse when he got into comics. Either it was the jocks that were more focused on their sports-teams than on their studies, or the other nerds that were jumping into the table-top and video game scene rather than the old classics, or just the average students that were more there for socializing than anything else. There were very few guys at school that were still interested in the old stuff.

Even with real heroes around...

Not that there were many. The nearest one in his state was up at the state capital, working to solve crime up there, but he'd seen the news reports over the last ten years or so. One hero, then ten, then a hundred across the country. The numbers were growing, and for him, comics were a way of 'studying' them and what they were supposed to be.

Alex shook his head, the chameleon burying his face into his bag. He felt like shit, and not just from the continued teasing from the jackals. He honestly felt like he was going to throw up soon.

Just...get to school, get to the toilets, throw up there...

His body told him that he didn't have that long. He might only have a minute or two, for that matter. Not long enough to get back inside, not long enough to get on the bus.

With his stomach rebelling, the chameleon glanced over his shoulder. There was an alley between the building he lived in and the apartment block next door. He could probably find a dumpster to puke behind, if he had to.

And he had to, as his stomach seized again. Wobbling to his feet, the chameleon stumbled around the bus stop. The jackals never stopped laughing.

"Wow, look at the big hero go. Where do you think he's off to?"

"Looks like he's going to do a body slam on Concrete Man."

"Heh, go on. Stay home, freak."

Alex did his best to ignore them, even as he had to drag his backpack along behind him. The 18-year-old struggled to keep his balance, but his guts were not making it easy. All he wanted to do was fall over, to flop out, and just...just pass out and not feel stuff for a while.

He leaned on the dumpster, having to slide along it to get to the far side. The chameleon gagged softly, biting off the first swell of puke -

"Heh, what do we have here?"

Pausing at the menacing voice, Alex slowly turned. He was shaking from head to toe from the suppressed nausea, having to use one hand on the dumpster to keep from curling into a ball, but his heart still had the energy to race when he saw the big bull with a knife in his hand. The hoofer stepped closer, holding a finger to his lips.

"Now, don't scream. You just hand me all your money, googly-eyes, and you can get outta here without a scratch."

"Mmmph..."

"Or I can cut you up until you give me what I want. Your choice. But I just sharpened this thing, so it's gonna hurt."

"A-actually...sharpened knives...h-hurt less," he said, even as his heart felt like it was going to burst through his chest. "Clean cuts. No tearing. Doesn't - oh god..."

He was pissing the big guy off. No surprise. He did that all the time without even thinking about it. Just bits of knowledge, undermining others without meaning to. Oh fuck, that knife was shiny. He could just about see his reflection in it as the bull took a step closer.

His eyes were going wild, one spinning around and looking straight behind him, looking for someone, anyone that might be around to help. Nobody. The jackals were still laughing, but they wouldn't come if he screamed. Nobody would.

"Now, why'd you go and say something like that?" the bull asked, the knife pressing lightly against the side of Alex's neck. "You want me to cut you, huh? You want me to make it hurt?"

"Ah...ah...please..."

All the huffing and puffing wasn't helping his stomach, and it was a race to see whether he'd faint or puke first. His heart was racing so hard that it felt like it was going to burst, and the chills turned to heat.

A very hot heat, as a matter of fact. He stared at the knife, and he swore he could feel something again. Something hot, like the anger that had been pouring off the jackals. Except this was worse. It was slick, foul, almost like he was tasting something downright evil.

It hurt, and it terrified him. The heat got worse, and the chameleon felt the sweat droplets breaking out everywhere, fear-sweat soaking him down his spine as he was pinned to the dumpster.

"Tell you what. I'll give ya a new red stripe for every few seconds you don't give me that wallet...and one right now for being a smart-ass. Just think about how you'll look, green, yellow...and red..."

The knife pressed against him again, the edge just starting to push, and the fear reached a fever pitch. Alex opened his mouth, trying and failing to scream, but the fear...the fear came rushing out of him all at once, like he was vibrating with it, like it was bursting out of him like heat from a star.

Just then, the bull grabbed at his chest, gasping, his eyes going wide. The greedy, angry look on his face turned to terror, and he spun on his heel. He made it one, two, three steps -

"Guh!"

And then tripped, falling on his back. The bull's chest...it wasn't...it wasn't moving. His heart...

Is he...

Alex couldn't finish the thought. His stomach finally burst through the fear, and he fell over, puking until he blacked out.

He woke up in the hospital, gasping for breath as soon as he opened his eyes. The knife flashed in his memory, and he grabbed for his throat, pressing his hands where the blade had rested.

It was sensitive, but not cut open. No blood, no injury. A few bumps and near-scratches, probably from when the bull had leaned into the cut, but not enough to break through. Alex whimpered, shivering as the looming bovine surged forward in his memories. Fearful, terrifying...

And who knew if he was still alive. If that part had been real, not a dream, then...

"Alex?"

At first, he thought it was a family member, but no. It was a doctor, a wolf in a white coat, red shirt, and jeans. The big canine walked over, gray fur fluffing up as he rested one hand on the hospital bed.

"Good to see you're finally awake. Now, do you remember what day it is?"

"Uh, um, Friday...Friday, right?"

"Yes, that's correct. Do you know where you are?"

"A...hospital?"

"That always was a stupid question, wasn't it? If you're not conscious when you're brought in, how are you supposed to know which one?"

As the doctor chuckled, Alex tried to smile. It was a shaky one, at best, but at least it came. And at least there was no googly-eyes jokes, yet.

"What happened? To me, I mean? And...and the bull..."

"He's in critical care. According to what we found on the scene, his heart nearly exploded. The worst heart attack that I've ever seen, frankly. What was going on?"

"I...he was mugging me, and..."

And then something happened. He'd gotten so scared, felt like he was about to die. That fear had been so strong that it was like it couldn't go anywhere else but out, and there'd only been one person around.

The face of terror, the way that the bull's eyes widened, the way his pupils had almost disappeared, the way that his breath had caught and his body shook before he'd turned and run: they were burned on Alex's brain. He couldn't forget it, couldn't think of anything else.

Did I...did I give him my fear?

But that...that was impossible. That was...

"So, you got lucky and your mugger had a heart attack. Well, that's something for the news."

"News?" Alex blinked. "What news?"

"Well, he was a prominent antiques dealer in town. Not that it means much to anyone not living here, but..." The doctor shrugged. "At any rate, the reporters are going to want to talk to you when you feel up to it."

"I'm not up to it. I'm not talking."

The idea of his face plastered over the TV...that would only attract more bullies, more people that wanted to make fun of him. Hell, if he could get to school again without someone threatening to flatten an eye to make him look normal after that, he'd be amazed.

"Well, that's your right. I'll tell them that you're not taking visitors yet."

"Thank you."

"As for you, you're doing surprisingly well. You were admitted with a 105 degree fever, you know."

"..."

"Why weren't you in the hospital already?"

"I didn't know it'd gotten that bad..."

"And the nausea? You were found with vomit hanging out of your mouth."

"I was dealing with it."

"Are you sure that you're alright, Alex? That is a lot for someone to be dealing with."

"...It's nothing. I'm fine."

"...Okay. But if you need to talk to someone, we do have counselors here."

"I'm fine. I swear, I'm fine. I just...I need time to think."

After telling the wolf the same thing in three different ways, the doctor finally left him alone. The chameleon leaned back on his hospital bed, looking down at his hands. An IV was in the back of one, and a heart-rate monitor was clipped to a finger on the other hand.

How bad was I? he wondered.

Bad enough that he noticed a difference now, he realized. He was no longer feeling like he was about to throw up, and he sure as hell didn't feel like he was in the grip of a fever any longer. Whatever had happened in the alley had taken away that feeling of being sick.

A part of him hoped that the hospital was responsible, but that...well, that didn't feel right. Particularly as he had been unconscious, unable to take pills, and he didn't feel the usual itch that meant that he would have had an injection somewhere. No, there was no way that the hospital had been responsible for making him better. He had done that himself, somehow...or had just worked the infection right out of his system.

The bull's face loomed out the darkness at him, and he shivered. If he had caused that...if he'd given that man a heart attack...

He fumbled at the side of the bed, hoping that - yes, they had. His bag was down there, and his comics too. He unzipped his backpack, pulled out one of the issues on a mentalist hero, and started reading. There was a lot of research to do.

#

Alex was kept in the hospital overnight. They'd wanted to keep him for observation, and it was...well, strange.

He swore that he kept dreaming, but every time that someone came in to check on him, he started feeling something from them. Usually, it was a fairly neutral, if slightly warm, feeling that he couldn't help but think of as compassion. Once, there'd been a feeling where a passing janitor looked at him and he felt the same anger and grossness that the jackals had been pushing out at the bus stop.

Weirdest, though, was a feeling of something just down the hall. He'd barely noticed it, at first, but when it kept poking at him while he was trying to sleep, the chameleon couldn't help but want to find out what it was. He got out of bed, walking down the hall, dragging his heart monitor with him, pulling his dressing gown shut as he did.

The closer he got to the feeling, the more warmth that he got from it. Not the compassionate warmth that he'd felt from most of the nurses, but more of a...a heated thing, something that burned rather than warmed. If the nurses were like a soft heater at his side, this was more like sitting next to a crackling fire.

The heat came with more than just a physical sensation, too. It felt a bit like it was...like it was pulling at him, like some gripping hand dragging at him from...from places better left unmentioned.

Alex followed it to one of the nurses' break rooms, and after a moment's hesitation, he peeked around the doorway.

His eyes just about bugged out of their sockets - and for a chameleon, that was quite a feat - as he took in the view of a fox and a horse having...relations. The horse was on his knees, one hand around the fox's cock and the other further down, while the fox had both his hands on the stallion's head, driving him up and down, up and down.

And it was then that he realized that the feeling he was getting was pulsing, throbbing to the beat of that bouncing head. Alex pulled his head back into the hallway, covering his mouth so he wouldn't pant in shock.

Despite himself, he couldn't help but turn one eye to look around the doorframe again. They were speeding up, the fox leaning back, his eyes closed as the horse bobbed his head all the faster. Every so often, the horse would pull back enough to show off the fox's sheath, his tapered tip, his knot.

Oh, that knot. He blushed worse than ever as he realized that he was staring at it, unable to help himself. He had never just stared at someone doing this before, and it was a whole new experience.

The more he watched, the hornier he felt, and it wasn't just because of how...deviant it was. It was like the feeling in the air was sinking into him, pushed further and further into his own loins. That lust, that horniness -

The lightbulb moment that came after was enough to keep him from grabbing the hard-on rising in his hospital gown, though not enough to slow it down or keep it from dripping. Alex muffled a gasp of understanding into his hand, pulling his eye back around.

Holy shit. I'm...I'm feeling their emotions!

He hustled away, trying to keep quiet, but in his hurry he couldn't be sure that he was. All he knew was that he needed to get back in bed before someone found him, before someone realized what he was doing.

All the while, he was trying to think it through, comparing everything that he'd gone through in the last twenty-four hours to that idea.

It has to be, right? he thought. I mean, the jackals at the bus stop? I thought I was just imagining it, but what if they were really feeling that sort of...

Well, that was a bit of a downer. There'd always been some part of him that had hoped that he was only imagining all the hate that came his way, but now that he had a way to feel it for sure...

Well, um, well...I felt the bull...

Yes, there'd been something very, very nasty there. He remembered that; under the anger and the fear, there'd been something slick and greasy, too, something that made him feel a little sick to sense. Then there'd been the fear, and only the fear.

Alex gulped, feeling a bit of a return of the nausea. No time for that. He had to think.

And here, in the hospital. It was more reliable the further from the incident they'd gotten. He'd been able to feel the compassion of the nurses, and that...that one janitor who'd hated him, in a way, for some reason. Hopefully it was just a bad mood. And then...

Then the guys in the break room...

He blushed as he realized that he could still feel them, their arousal unabated as they continued to go at it. If anything, they seemed to be feeling even stronger, like they had only just gotten started.

Alex's cock was throbbing hard in his hospital gown, and he groaned under his breath as he felt it getting stiffer with every throb from down the hall. It was like that pressure, that arousal, that lust, was filling him up as much as it was them. Was that how this worked? Would he be like some sort of emotional polygraph, or -

The sound of footsteps in the hall kicked him out of his frantic thoughts. He was supposed to be asleep, and if he didn't want another interview, he needed to pretend that he was still out of it. Biting his lips, hoping that the heart-rate monitor didn't give him away, the chameleon closed his eyes and turned his head to the side.

A few seconds later, the footsteps got louder, and he could feel someone walking into the room. Whatever power this was, it was getting stronger. This time, it was someone nice, someone that felt compassion, who felt a bit giggly, too. Maybe a little drunk?

He braced himself, waiting for that particular feeling to transfer, but thankfully, it didn't. The drunk feeling must have been more physical than emotional.

Instead, he felt the nurse's hand on his shoulder, giving him a slight poke to see if he was awake. Alex managed to keep from responding, and the nurse chuckled.

"Sleepyhead..."

The nurse was definitely a guy by the voice, and he blushed slightly in his sleep. Not enough for it to spread or leave him pink from head to toe, but enough for it to start sliding along his cheeks and up towards his face. He hoped that the nurse didn't notice -

Fuck!

He was still hard as a rock, and turned on, to boot. The blush got worse, turning a little red, particularly as the horny guys down the hall hadn't stopped. He could still feel them. They were going at it hard, and it was making his dick stiffer, harder, more and more eager...

Hell, it was making him more and more eager. The more that he felt, the less he liked this part of the power, and he wanted nothing more than to get rid of all the horny before the nurse realized that he was pitching a tent.

It grew and grew until he felt it bleeding out, and as soon as he felt the lust leaving him, the chameleon did what he could to try and throw the rest of it out where it was oozing from him. As he did, he felt his arousal evening out, no longer on the rise -

"Mmmm..."

Except that he had forgotten that there was someone around to receive the lust. Just like there'd been someone around to receive the fear.

Oh shit, shit, shit...

He had to look. He had to know. Wincing slightly, Alex opened one eye just a sliver.

At his side stood a nurse, alright. Dressed in a blue scrubs, the mouse was looking over him with increasingly red cheeks and a growing bulge. He could see it, only a foot away from his head. The more that he pushed, the more that the bleeding arousal hit the mouse, and the harder that the rodent got.

"Mmmm, what a cutie," the mouse whispered. "I really shouldn't do this, but...mmmph..."

The rodent's gloved hand slid under the chameleon's blanket, and he felt it grab his hard-on. It was cool and warm at the same time, and he huffed softly in his 'sleep.' What little arousal he'd managed to bleed out suddenly didn't seem like much, and his own lust was going right back up.

Don't make a sound, don't make a sound, don't make a sound...

Yet, for all his best efforts to stay quiet, the mouse didn't seem to care. All that seemed to matter to him was his grip on Alex's dick, which got firmer and tighter as the seconds wore on. The mouse turned to lean over him, stroking slowly, another gloved hand sliding under the blanket as the chameleon's arousal got stronger.

"Mmmm, you are a big guy, aren't you?" the mouse whispered. "I mean, not like, big, but...I can't believe I'm doing this. This is sooooo wrong, but...Why are you so hot like this?"

Oh, this was wrong alright, but the only way that he could think of to stop it was to open his eyes and tell the mouse to stop. And even then, would that be enough? He was bleeding horniness into the other man to the point where the nurse had given upon all common sense and rules. It was like...like he just didn't care anymore, like the lust was all he felt.

No, not all. There was still that gentle compassion, and...and there was that warmth, that gentleness shaping it. It meant that he didn't have to worry about being rolled over and fucked, at least. That was out of the question.

But how much more he could take before he had to 'wake up' and put an end to it? This was -

"Mmmph..."

The mouse had opened up his scrubs, pulling out his own cock. One gloved hand went back to it, while the other -

Ah!

It took everything that Alex had not to moan right then and there. His cock was cupped at the head, the sensitive tip held tight in the mouse's grasp. It was rubbed, squeezed, teased, the slippery glove grinding on the head of his shaft again and again. It was pushing him right to the edge of his endurance, polishing his shaft, shining the head.

"Mmm, come on...let me see...I want to see you cum...I want - mmmm..."

The mouse moaned, and Alex belatedly realized that he had just pushed out another pulse of lust in a vain attempt to cool off. His nurse turned, looking into the hallway, and then turned back to the 'sleeping' chameleon.

"If anyone catches me...But you're so..." The mouse moaned. "Oh, fuck it...this'll be our little secret..."

The benefit of being a chameleon was that he could track the nurse anywhere that he went in the room, and with only a pinhole of an eye at the end of the stalk, it was impossible to tell if his eyes were open or closed. He watched the mouse go to the end of the hospital bed, then flick up his blankets. The chameleon's dick was finally exposed to open air, the mouse's hand gripping right at the base.

"Can't believe I'm doing this to a patient...this is...so wrong...but so...hot...I'm just...taking care of him..."

Hearing the nurse rationalizing what he was doing to himself shouldn't have been a good thing, but he couldn't help it. He moaned softly.

Then he moaned loudly as his dick was sucked right into a warm, willing mouth, the first time that Alex had ever had someone touch him like that. His hands tensed up and his toes curled at the end of the bed, and it only got worse as the mouse started sucking him off in earnest.

Every time he felt those lips sliding down his cock, he swore he was going to cum. His cock was sliding along something so warm, so wet, a tongue that seemed to caress every inch of his shaft on the way down. Gloved fingers fondled his balls, pulling them down, and then letting them rise again.

Nnngh...oh...oh...

Genetics had given him balls and an outward dick rather than the assets that some males on his father's side had, and he was thankful for that now. He never knew that the extra flesh to play with would make it so enjoyable.

But...

But this was...

His other eye flicked down to the pile of comics. Even as that wonderful mouth bounced up and down his cock, he could see the cover art of Trenton Telepath, a panther that had gained the power of mind control but used it to fight crime rather than become a criminal. There were always morals in each comic, and he remembered Trenton's.

Never use your powers for gain. Always use them for the betterment of others.

He couldn't...he couldn't just lay here and enjoy it. Alex had to say something. Had to...do something...

Say something!

"Mmmph..."

"Shhh, shhh." The mouse pulled back, stroking him before giving the head of his cock another lick. "Don't make too much noise, cutie. If someone sees me...come on...come for Ron. Come for Ron."

The mouse went right back to sucking him again, and it was too much. Alex whimper-moaned as he came, shooting his load down the other man's throat. As he arched his back, shooting his load, he felt all the lust in him just...pulse. Not ooze, not bleed away, but pulse.

Not only did Ron moan under him, splutting softly as he came hands-free, but the whole floor was suddenly filled with the sound of moaning. He could hear the sounds of orgasms from across the hall and up and down it, and Alex went wide-eyed as he felt all that lust come rushing back, hitting him again.

"NNNNNGH!"

He moaned as he came again, half-drowning the mouse between his legs, and once more the rush of pleasure echoed through the floor, up and down around him. And once more, it rebounded, catching him at the edge of his last orgasm, and carrying him forward again!

"NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGAAAAAAAAAH!"

Three orgasms in a row. Three. Each one more powerful than the last, and he could feel Ron gasping against his crotch, the mouse desperately pulling back...or was it pushing forward? It was hard to tell, particularly as the last pulse was the strongest yet, shooting outwards across the entire hospital.

The return wave knocked him out before he could cum again, and it knocked him out hard.

The next morning, there was not a confident face in the hospital. Every single man and woman that Alex saw as he walked himself down to the release desk was red-faced, whether they were a patient or an employee. Nobody looked anything less than utterly embarrassed, and even the ones that looked vaguely better off seemed to be more shamefully happy than anything else.

In his case, he could not believe what had happened. He had let everything get completely out of control. If he had powers now - and he damn well seemed to - then he needed to be a lot better at maintaining control of a situation...

If he could...

If he didn't just slump back into the nothingness of comics that he'd come from.

The thought was enough to leave him hunched over as he approached the desk. The woman on the other side didn't even have the warmth of the nurses coming off her. All she had was a feeling of impatience, of boredom, of annoyance. General annoyance; he was starting to pick up on the subtleties between them, he realized.

That wasn't the only thing, either. He was starting to pull in information from everyone around him, not just the one that was right in front of him. It was a constant pressure of feelings and emotions from all sides, slowly growing the more that he stayed still. When there were walls between him and them, it was a bit better, but not by much.

"And looks like you're all signed out. You're free to go."

"Thanks."

"Oh, by the way. Your doctor said that the reporters will be calling you sometime tonight. He put out orders that you weren't to be disturbed until the evening, but that was the most he could give you."

"...Thanks."

"Off you go."

He nodded at the skunk woman, turning to leave. Putting the lobby behind him helped immensely, as he was no longer surrounded by stationary, emotional people, but...

But now that he was free, what was he supposed to do?

Who was he supposed to tell?

What did you do when you gained super-powers, and they just felt so freaking dumb?

Dumb, but dangerous, he reminded himself, the bull's face popping into his mind again. Dumb, but dangerous. You...you have to figure this out. Or someone's going to get hurt.

The End