Gold Standard

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Gold Standard Page 26

by Kyell Gold

“Hey, I met this guy at the gym, and he wants to take me to a club tomorrow night. If that’s okay.”

  Dylan looked up from the computer. “What club?”

  “I...don’t know. I mean, he didn’t specify.”

  Dylan tilted his head, ears flicking. “You don’t have to ask me. If you want to go, go.”

  Impulsively, Tobias said, “You want to come?”

  The panther shook his head slowly. “I got stuff to do here. Not really into the loud music and stuff, you know.”

  “Okay.” Tobias paused. “I might...I might be out pretty late.”

  “Okay. You want me to wait up?”

  “Oh, no. Well, I mean, if you want...” He trailed off. He wanted to say, “what for?” but that seemed rude, and Dylan was just being pleasant.

  The panther shrugged. “If I’m up, I guess.” He turned back to his computer, and Tobias thought that was it, but a couple minutes later, Dylan said, “I didn’t know you were into dancing.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Tobias looked up from his game. “Used to do it back home.”

  “You had clubs in Terrian?”

  Dylan still wasn’t looking at him, but Tobias shook his head anyway. “No, just with the family, you know? All of us together.”

  “Mm.” Dylan’s tail twitched. Tobias waited for him to say something, and finally he did. “Let me know how it is.”

  Tobias sighed. “Yeah,” he said. “I will.”

  There wasn’t an easy way to bring up the possibility of doing more than dancing, so Tobias just told himself that he wasn’t intending to “hook up,” though it was hard to stop his daydreams all through Friday. And when he met Marty outside Splitz, the music loud enough that it was hard to talk even in the street, he couldn’t take his eyes from the dark-shouldered fox’s light white vest, open to show off his fluffy chest ruff, and the tight black shorts, cut high enough that Tobias could see the bottom of a little triangle of white fur on the inner thigh.

  “You wear more clothes than that to the gym,” he couldn’t help saying as they stood in line.

  Marty grinned. “If you want to come back, I’ll have to take you shopping.”

  Tobias fingered his t-shirt, looked down at the jeans. “Is this bad?”

  “Nah, if you’re not looking to hook up. You’ll get pretty warm, so just remember to drink a lot of water. But you should be doing that anyway.”

  The bouncer, a six-and-a-half foot tall tiger, watched the gum-chewing vixen at the entrance take their money and smear something invisible on their wrist fur. Marty was already bouncing on the balls of his feet, his tail switching in time to the music as they walked in. Tobias’s long tail, too, undulated in time with the music, creating waves along it that distracted Marty as he turned to ask Tobias something.

  “That’s cool,” he said, snaking his arms to try to imitate the motion.

  Tobias stopped. He looked around, but didn’t see anyone else in the club who had as long a tail. All the other dancers just seemed to be hopping and bouncing, with short, fluffy tails. Marty’s was longer than anyone else’s—no, wait, there was a cougar, but he was facing Tobias, his tail hidden from view.

  “Hey,” Marty said, now hopping from one foot to the other and clapping his paws together. “First rule of the club is don’t worry what other people think of you. Unless you’re trying to hook up, but you’re not, so what do you care? Just let yourself go. Come on, I’ll help.”

  Still bouncing, he dragged Tobias over to the bar, bathed in purple light, where a white ferret’s glowing fur showed Tobias that the light was probably a UV. “Two Steamboats,” Marty said to the ferret, holding up two fingers.

  The ferret gave him a thumbs-up and continued serving the pair of bears standing beside them. Marty closed his eyes briefly, swinging his hips and still clapping his paws. “What’s a Steamboat?” Tobias asked.

  “Come on, feel the beat,” Marty said. “You’ll like the Steamboat. It’s fruity.”

  Tobias took a breath. Back home, growing up, they used to dance a lot, but the dances people were doing here were different. They were more jerky, except for a few who were dancing fluidly with glowing wristbands. He started tapping his foot to the throbbing beat, and let his body sway ever so gently from side to side.

  If he just focused on the beat, he could almost imagine his father pounding on the porch, his brother and the families next door dancing off the Sunday pot luck. He hadn’t thought of home in years, mostly because of the way he’d left it, and remembering the feeling of dancing brought back a startling liberty with it. He curled his tail around the bar rail, and then uncurled it, letting it sway back and forth. Both feet got into it, and just then, the glowing white ferret plunked down two glasses on the bar.

  “I got this one,” Marty said, “you get the next.”

  “Deal.” Tobias clinked his glass against Marty’s and brought it to his nose while the fox drank. He caught the flavor of banana, strongly, over the familiar smell of rum. Orange and cherry followed them when he took a gulp, and then the rum overwhelmed them all. “Wow,” he said, looking down.

  Marty’d already finished his. “No hurry,” he said, “but finish up so we can go dance.”

  Tobias looked again at the drink and then at the fox. He gave him a quick grin and brought the glass to his mouth.

  The dance floor was a wild mass of chaos, a hundred different kinds of musk and flashing lights of every color. Marty let go of Tobias’s paw at what seemed like a random spot on the floor and started swinging his hips again, more aggressively than he had at the bar. Tobias looked around and saw as many different dance styles as people, and almost as many different kinds of dress. Next to them were two female pine martens, spandex tops stretched tightly across their ample chests, with matching hip-huggers shimmering under the rainbow lights. They slapped paws while dancing, as if their matching outfits weren’t enough to show they were together. To his other side, a white tiger, almost a photo-negative of Dylan, was dancing so jerkily that Tobias thought at first he must be completely drunk, until he pulled out a phone and tapped out a text message with more coordination than any drunk person could manage. The phone wasn’t the only conspicuous bulge in his shorts when he slid it back in place.

  “Hey.” Marty punched him on the shoulder. “You can look, just don’t stare.” He had to yell over the music. “Have fun dancing.”

  “Right.” Tobias felt a warmth in his cheeks and a different warmth in his stomach, where the drink was sitting very comfortably. The former faded while the other spread to his legs and arms, and since nobody seemed to notice he was staring or even care what he was doing, he started to dance. “Hey,” he called to Marty, and waved at his nose. “Don’t the smells bother you?”

  Marty’s smile widened. He just curled his tongue around his lips and lifted his muzzle, inhaling visibly. Tobias laughed. It didn’t bother him, but he wondered what the fox and his sensitive nose made of it. He must like it, because he looked very much in his element.

  Once it was clear Tobias was having fun, he expected Marty to move away and circulate, but the fox seemed happy staying where he was. Other dancers flowed around them, but Tobias didn’t stare overtly, except at the striking arctic fox, moving with serpentine grace, whose only concession to propriety was a small gold pouch that strained to enclose his sheath. Tobias couldn’t help staring at his abs and legs, rippling under short shaved fur, but it didn’t seem to matter, because the fox was traveling in a small cloud of staring dancers, male and female both. Tobias turned back to Marty and saw the fox grinning. “Don’t worry,” Marty shouted over the music. “Nobody else can look like that.”

  “Too flashy for me,” Tobias responded, but that wasn’t true for everyone. In the short time he was near them, Tobias saw a black panther and a large tigress both dance their way up to the white fox, gain his attention for a few seconds, and then get left behind as he danced on. He shook his head and grinned, clapping his paws together to the beat and hopping more vigorou
sly, more carefree in the certainty that nobody within twenty feet of the arctic fox was looking at anyone else.

  “You look fine,” Marty said. Tobias gave the dark-maned fox a thumbs-up to show that he appreciated the reassurance. Marty himself looked pretty good. He too shaved close on his arms and stomach (though not as close as the arctic fox), but left his shoulders and the mane on the back of his neck long and fluffy. Tobias wondered why he hadn’t noticed the fox’s rear before, or the way his hips moved invitingly, or why he hadn’t appreciated the power in those paws when Marty’d helped him with his exercises months ago.

  Somewhere in between his second and third Steamboat, Tobias realized that he was going to go home with Marty and have sex. The realization was as liberating as the passage of the arctic fox had been to his dancing—with the outcome of the night settled, he didn’t have to worry about it. He could just let himself go. The memories of home faded, the dance floor and club becoming its own experience, allowing Tobias to get lost in the music. After his fourth drink, his body felt tingly, aching for a touch, so he rubbed his paws along his sides. And that felt good, so he rubbed them down his thighs, too. Marty was echoing his dancing, and perhaps the music had slowed, or Tobias’s perceptions had speeded up, because the fox seemed to be swaying rather than swinging, stepping rather than hopping.

  “Another one?” Tobias yelled, pointing at the bar.

  Marty shook his head and pointed at the exit. Tobias’s tail shivered, his heart skipping a beat. The warmth of four drinks all poured into his groin. He nodded.

  They made their way through the crowd of dancers, out into the dark street. Marty was panting heavily, and Tobias could feel the stickiness of sweat all through his fur. “You’re lucky,” Marty gasped. “God, can’t close my mouth.” His tongue was dripping.

  “Good,” Tobias said, and before he could change his mind, he stepped up to Marty and kissed him.

  He’d grabbed the fox’s muzzle and planted his mouth across the open lips, and Marty responded immediately. He tasted like orange and cherry, and rum, and fox. Different from Dylan, warmer and more exotic. And when he pulled the fox to him, he felt the hardness of his arousal, something else he hadn’t felt for years. Marty’s paws slid down and cupped Tobias’s rear, tongue flicking against the lemur’s. Tobias’s heart raced. His tail swung around to brush the back of Marty’s legs.

  Then the fox pulled away and took a step back, resting a paw on Tobias’s shoulder. He smacked his lips. “Hey,” he said, his voice muffled by the residue of the club music in Tobias’s ears. “Let’s get you something to drink.”

  That wasn’t quite the response Tobias had expected. He paused and then nodded, curling his tail down by his legs. He wasn’t staggering, he noticed, so he wasn’t that drunk. Sure, he was drunk, but the world wasn’t spinning, and all in all, it just felt very pleasant and free. Marty’s rejection, though, had started to let nagging worries creep in. He started to apologize, but Marty was smiling and walking along with a springy step, so there didn’t seem to be a need for it.

  Marty led him to a gas station, where he grabbed a couple huge bottles of Powerade and handed one to Tobias. “Tastes like crap, but it’s good for you,” he said. “Hangover’s worse if you’ve been dancing.” He downed a good quarter of his bottle in one long drink, and when he set it down, he wasn’t panting so hard. “Hate it when my mouth’s all sweaty.”

  Tobias took a drink, and it really did feel good, even though the night air was cooling him down considerably. His cock still felt hot. “It wasn’t so bad,” he said boldly.

  Marty’s ears flicked. “You have a good time tonight?”

  “Yeah.” Tobias took another drink.

  “Good.” Marty clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, I’ll walk you to the bus.”

  “No, I drove.” Tobias slapped his pocket for the car keys.

  Marty shook his head. “You ain’t driving like that.”

  “I’m fine,” Tobias insisted.

  “Do I have to take your keys?”

  “Okay.” Tobias leaned closer. “How close is your place?”

  Marty laughed. “You clear this with your boyfriend?”

  “It’s none of his business,” Tobias said. “If he wanted me, he could touch me once in a while.”

  He was surprised at how easily the words came out. Marty’s eyes softened. “Come on, there’s a diner not too far. Let’s get some coffee.”

  Okay, so maybe he wasn’t going to have sex with Marty tonight. But this might actually be better. “Hell yes,” Tobias said.

  The diner was called “Grant’s,” and it smelled like all 24-hour diners smelled, of eggs and toast with an undertone of deli meat. They sat away from the few other patrons, shared a plate of fries with coffee, and Tobias told Marty about Dylan. How things had been so good when he’d moved from the tropical country of Terrian; how Dylan had been there for him, filling the void left by his family; how they’d slowly settled into a rut and slowly just stopped having sex.

  “How long?”

  “Oh...” Tobias counted backwards in his head. “Three years? There was one night when we tried, but he wasn’t really into it.” God, he’d almost forgotten about that night. It had been so awkward, and afterwards he’d felt so ashamed of pressuring Dylan into the blow job that he’d lain awake the rest of the night. Now, with the buzz of alcohol in his mind, it seemed as though it had happened to someone else.

  “Years?” Marty’s ears went flat. “Oh, Tobe. That’s not right.”

  “That’s why I was going to the gym,” Tobias said, emboldened by the four Steamboats.

  “‘Coming’ in the gym was the problem.”

  It took Tobias a second to realize that Marty was making a joke. The humor broke through the absurdity of it, making him grin, which made Marty smile in return. “I know, it was stupid, I just...”

  “Nah, to be honest, I figured. I mean, there must be something going on at home if you had to jerk off in the showers there. Either that or you’re just so turned on by muscles that you couldn’t hold it in, but you don’t really seem like that type.”

  “I like some muscles.” Tobias ignored the stare from the jaguar two tables over and looked pointedly at Marty’s shoulder.

  “Is your boyfriend in shape?”

  He waved a paw. “He stopped going to the gym years ago.” But the mention of Dylan brought back some tension, killing the relaxation the alcohol had brought. Or maybe that was the coffee. He wanted another drink from the bar, but all he had was the coffee, so he took another drink.

  Marty lifted his coffee cup as well. “Why don’t you just DTMFA?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Dump the motherfucker already.”

  Tobias inhaled the smell of his coffee. It was weak and crappy, but right now it was just perfect. “Because...well, where would I go?”

  Marty shrugged. “Anywhere’s better, right?”

  “Well...” Tobias looked out the window at the street. It was one in the morning, and still people were walking by: a bear couple, a porcupine. “It’s not that bad. I mean, he was cool with me going out tonight. We both like video games and stuff. If we could just get the sex thing sorted out.”

  Marty rubbed his muzzle. “You think he’d be okay with you messing around with other people?”

  “What, like cheating on him?”

  The fox’s dark shoulders shrugged. “If you ask him first, is it cheating?”

  “I don’t know...”

  “Well, if you’re not getting what you want from him, he can’t expect you to just go without, can he?”

  Of course, that was exactly what Dylan had been doing. Or had he? “He’s not like that.” Tobias looked into Marty’s eyes. “I mean, he was willing to try, but it was just so...ugh.”

  “He doesn’t have to say it out loud,” Marty said. “He can make it uncomfortable for you. And it sounds like he is.”

  “Yeah, but he doesn’t mean it...I don’t think.” Under Marty
’s gaze, Tobias rubbed the black mask over his eyes and sighed.

  “I’m not coming on to you,” Marty said. “I told you, I’m not into the whole relationship thing. But I hate to see a friend unhappy. Haven’t any of your other friends told you that?”

  “Most of my other friends are Dylan’s friends,” Tobias said. “I can’t really talk to them about him.”

  Marty exhaled and leaned across the table. “At least,” he said, “you should talk to him. Don’t let him shut you down. He owes you that.”

  Between the coffee and the Powerade, and the time elapsed, Tobias wasn’t even buzzed any more when he walked in the door of their apartment at quarter to three in the morning. He realized as he saw the blue glow of Dylan’s computer screen that he had no idea when Dylan regularly went to bed any more. Had the panther just stayed up for him or not? He wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

  Tobias locked the door behind him and stood looking at the empty living room. Maybe Dylan was out, had taken advantage of Tobias’s absence to go to a friend’s house for a movie night. Or maybe he’d run out for a quick fast food fix, which was more likely since he’d left his computer on.

  The toilet flushed. Or, Tobias thought, maybe he was just using the bathroom. He waited in the living room as Dylan came down the hall, ears and muzzle up. “Thought I heard the door,” he said. “How was it?”

  “Pretty good.” Tobias stifled a yawn. “I’m gonna head to bed. You?”

  Dylan’s eyes slid away from his. He gestured at the computer. “I’m kinda in the middle of something.”

  Tobias sighed. “Okay.” He walked slowly toward the hallway, then stopped and turned around. “How about if I stay up for a bit?”

  Dylan was already seated at his desk. He shrugged. “Sure.”

  “I mean,” Tobias said, “can we talk for a bit?”

  He saw the panther’s shoulders slump. Dylan spun his chair around and settled his paws in his lap, his tail curled around the base of his chair. “What’s up?”

  Tobias flopped down in the small loveseat, draping his tail along the cushions and his arm over the armrest. “Are you bored with me?”

 

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