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The Simple Things

Chapter Twenty Four

By Roofles

“Richard.” I groaned, pushing the lug of a dog I called my boyfriend off me. The chocolate Labrador just turned back and flopped right back on top of me the second I let up on the pressure. He was a heavy guy and I grunted at the sudden impact of his weight against me. He nuzzled his head back against my bare fuzzy chest and shoulder, still facing the tv, and just gave a “murf” in reply.

“You havn't showered in days.” I grumbled, giving him another shove. Richard just went limp until I stopped and fell back once more against me.

“It's the weekend!” He whined pitifully, a sound I had learned was as fake as his excuse. “I dun wanna.” He groaned in protest, even louder twisting and grinding his back against me to get as comfy as he possibly could. Yet, even as he whined, his eyes conveniently never strayed too far from the screen and his hands never let go of the controller.

The days had come and gone quickly enough and from Summer, it became Fall. The weather was easing up and Richard, and his roommates, seemed to be able to relax far more than they had in the blistering heat of April. And it was showing.

He used to take showers just to cool off. We went to the pool and he'd doggie paddle from one side to the other happily. Now wasn't so much the case. The colder weather made me want to bundle up but already Richard's winter coat was coming in nicely. He'd fuss about it but he gladly took it as a perfect excuse to wear less and less clothing and to just stop taking showers all together.

Despite what he may say or what I'd like to believe, Richard body was far more animal than he or I would ever admit. As such, he himself didn't really become rank from the lack of showers as I would've. More so that his fur became a lot more... waxy. Rather than the downy softness I had come to know and love, it was rougher and had a… musk to it. Sounds odd, I know. But the smell is hard to miss when a two hundred plus pound canine is laying on top of you wearing nothing but baggy boxer briefs.

“It's easier for you.” Richard grumbled, scratching his scruffy chest with a hand as the game he was playing loaded. He turned those brownie soft eyes towards me and my heart melted at his blight, despite my best efforts. To press the issue further, he turned just enough to face me. Petting the side of my face with his hand now and moved just close enough for me to feel his breath against my lips.

“Fine.” I caved in pitifully as he rolled back around with a smirk and continued to play his game. I had to admit, he was right. I could take a five, ten minute shower tops and be good for the full day. It took Richard at least an hour to do the same amount of work. Otherwise he'd end up having that wet dog smell for the rest of the day. This seemed to be the lesser of two evils.

“Well you haven't been doing it for work either.” I noted, scratching at his chest now for him. He scooted a bit closer to me and I could hear the satisfied sigh escape him at my touch. It was relaxing, I'll admit, petting him like this and letting my mind just wander about.

“No one cares.” Richard just shrugged. “Timber positioned months ago that it wouldn't be mandatory unless it effected work.” Timber being one of the higher ups, a timber wolf by name and trade. I wasn't too surprised seeing as how the last time I caught the wolf in the break room, he was eating a flank. A deer flank, raw. Primal was sort of his gimmick.

“Still. I'd appreciate it.” I said, kissing the top of his head between his floppy ears. Those ears of his splayed out and I didn't need to see his face. I knew he was frowning. I continued to scratch over his bare chest and sides, letting that thick fur run through my fingers. The waxiness of it got onto them but I didn't really care too much.

“Only if you join me.” Richard finally agreed, not so slyly implicating something more.

“Do I have a choice?” I teased and he chuckled.

“Could give ya' that tongue bath instead.” He gave a panting grin at that.

A sight that took some time to become used to seeing. With his black lips, canine teeth and that long pink tongue… It just reminded me all the more that he was in fact, not exactly human.

Something that's been bothering me for some time now. With the recent election coming up, there seemed to be an ever growing divide between the two races. One candidate running on the grounds of fear and hate, using an extremely small portion of extremists to his advantage. A group that was responsible for a bombing of a luxury travel bus. All in the name of “equal rights.” The audacity not only the candidate had to use such a thing to his advantage but this group did as well was beyond me.

And to make matters worse, my family from back East was getting more involved in my life. “Worried for my well being,” my mother had said. Knowing the population of “furs” was far denser in the West than it was back home. If only she knew about the man in my arms right now…

Richard was always good on picking up when I was worried about something. He even paused his game to turn around to look at me. “Everything ok?” He asked in a soft voice, looking into my eyes with his own beautiful soft brown ones.

“Of course.” I lied and Richard could clearly see that there defiantly was something bugging me.

“Look, if it bugs you that much I'll go take a shower now.” He said with a soft whine, thinking it must've been something he's done. The sad face of his nearly broke my heart.

“No, no!” I quickly said. “It's not that. You're perfect.” I smiled and gave him a big hug. Squeezing a bit tighter than I normally would. He wrapped an arm around me and just accepted the hug, appreciating what I said. “You've done nothing wrong.” I muttered more for myself than for him. He returned the hug a bit stronger now, knowing something was up just wasn't sure what it was.

“You can talk to me, you know.” Richard said with that soft voice, holding the side of my whole face in one hand and looking into my eyes once more. Begging, pleading me to tell him about it.

What can I say? I'm an idiot. I'm a guy and was raised, as such, to be that way. To never show emotions or be vulnerable, that men don't cry. Or share their feelings. Or anything really.

Before I could even get a chance to answer, we were interrupted.

“What are you fags doing?” Max, a bull terrier and Richard's roommate said loudly as he came into the room. He normally did this to make sure he didn't walk in on us doing something perverse, again. Last time I was under the covers for nearly an hour after he walked in; having to keep my head between Richard's legs in sheer embarrassment, as if Max wasn't aware what we had been doing. Richard didn't mind one bit and I think Max stook around just long enough to make me feel even worse about it.

“We were about to fuck. Long and hard right there in your chair.” I rolled my eyes as Richard pulled back and we turned to face him. Max was territorial and didn't like people sniffing around his stuff, let alone his chair. At least we were friends, I think?

Max rolled his eyes, grinning widely with one side of his mouth as he shook his head. “I'd love to see that.” He chuckled darkly, cracking his neck now and popping both his shoulders. “I dare you. Just dare ya'.” Max looked like an ex-con. He was built like a tank and had enough scars that would've put most veterans to rest. If I or Richard were in prison, we'd defiantly be his bitch. Hell, we both already were basically.

I gave a halfhearted laugh and looked away, hoping I hadn't gone too far. Richard didn't even seem to notice, yet he was the one to save and turn off his game as Max got into his chair and let the bull terrier turn the news on.

“In recent news,” the female reporter started off nicely. “The horrible attack on Bus 111 has left several still in critical care and three dead. An unnamed assailant snapped after being harassed by another passenger. The cougar attacked the unharmed passenger with their claws and fangs, ending up attacking everyone that tried to stop him.”

I shuddered at the pictures that came up and quickly looked away. Just my luck, the very thing I was worried about happened to be the headline. And sure enough, the next thing that came on was the bigot himself that continued this campaign.

“If we don't send them back to where they belong!” The candidate started and a roar of a cheer followed these words from his own fanatical supporters. “Then more of these attacks will happen and good, American born citizens will be put in harms way.” Another cheer rose up and just as it did the TV was turned off.

All of his supports were humans. White, Christian born. Like myself, or I should be saying. My family. I had a huge fight with my brother before I left. Even not dating Richard at the time. The argument ended when I told him that a straight, white American male had nothing to complain about at all, about anything and that he was the most privileged from birth… He didn't take that well and, since then, we haven't spoken two words to each other.

“Games not on.” Max growled, pulling out his phone to undoubtedly check the schedule. He didn't even seem to notice what was on, or if he did showed no sign of it. Richard wasn't watching either and instead was just holding me tightly.

Richard had a habit to ignore the cruel reality of the world, not that I blamed him. He liked to live in the moment and didn't think about politics or the like. It made me feel as if I needed to be kept informed, for both our sake. Seeing as how they were not only trying to recall not only gay marriage but also inter-species marriage. Not that that was a concern for us, for a long long time. But the fact this candidate, and so many others, wanted to ban them from the states? It was a horrible joke that was becoming more and more real with each passing day, unless we did something about it.

I didn't say anything for some time as Max turned the tv back on and changed the channel. He was drinking his beer, enjoying the silence. Richard just closed his eyes, resting against me before turning back over, grinding his rear into my lap, and began watching the game in my arms.

Richard held my hand tightly the hold time and wouldn't let go as he watched the game, joking every now and then with Max and getting angry when their team fumbled the ball. The black labrador had pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over us.

At some point Richard managed to lay on his back on the couch, holding me on top of him. It was surprisingly comfier than the couch itself. Every now and then he'd pet the side of my leg with his foot, nuzzling at me with his whiskery muzzle. Petting over my back with a hand and flexing as he gave me another hug.

I've known long by now how needy Richard could be. Physical contact was almost a must with him. It seemed to be a canine thing, I can't speak for any other species. Max even, every now and then, would make some sort of physical contact. Just a touch here, a hug there. Nothing spectacular or worth writing home about. Just some needed contact. Richard had been holding back since the day I met him and the closer we got, the closer he became.

I can't remember the last time I took a shower without him there or nearby, brushing his teeth. He'd follow me around the house as I did laundry or chores. Just smiling and wagging his tail without a care in the world. Like a puppy dog.

Max was far more independent and only ever tell me to tag along with him when he headed out, not liking to go shopping by himself. Richard would of course tag along as well. Even once, Richard was butt naked. Sitting around the house playing some hand held game. At the prospect of going out, he was up and ready within the minute.

One thing I've learned in my many years of dating. People do change. When you become official, when your actually dating. Things do change despite what others may say. With friends you can joke around all you like. With that someone special? Not so much. Things are touchier, more real. Little things can set one off.

The last time me and Richard actually fought was over just this. His neediness. I didn't mean much by it, just that he'd back off a bit and do his own thing. He never asked to really do something. “Whatever you want.” Was his most common reply. Where to go to eat? Or which movie to see? Or what park we were going too? Richard just wanted to do what I wanted to do and it bugged me, still does. I wanted him to be more independent, I wanted to do what he did but that just wasn't the case.

The last time this came up Richard actually got angry. The first I've ever actually seen of him. He even growled at me, a first in itself. “Hi! I'm Richard, I'm needy. Go figure!” He had thrown his hands in the air and stomped off, only to come back two seconds later to apologize.

During those hot summer nights, Richard wouldn't let go. He'd sleep at the very edge of the bed, on my side, just so he could be close. It couldn't have been comfortable, or safe. Yet he chose to do it just to be close. It was a catch 22 basically. All he wanted was to make me happy but he couldn't with how he did things.

This is where things begun to really change. The closer we got, the more he wanted to just be there with me. And I was a guy, I needed some space every now and then and Richard tried to oblige. Tried, being the key word. He just couldn't in the end, when given the option.

And why did this bother so much? Well other than needing my space every now and then. This principle didn't just apply to us being alone. Outside, in public or at work Richard would want to hold hands, to hug, to be next to me. He'd sit on the same side of the table, playing footsie with me the whole time. He'd nuzzle the side of my face whenever he felt like it, no matter where we were. Kissing could be awkward enough with that large snout of his, in the middle of work or a crowded restaurant was something else.

Something I just wasn't ready for. Which was something I had to deal with, overcome. Funny how things worked. When your single you only want someone. And when your together, all you wanted was some space. Distance. And yet Richard would nuzzle his way into my life despite all this.

The worse part was, I didn't exactly have anyone to talk to about this. I had… Max? And that was about it. Patch, a dalmatian and other roommate to Richard, wasn't the most attentive. He wasn't a bad guy but if it wasn't about him the spotted dog would lose interest quickly. I didn't have my best friends here, I just had Richard. And I couldn't possibly talk to him about this, that'd be sane! That'd be rational and you just weren't rational when you were in love.

I had my nose in the crook of his arm and despite it all, I did enjoy his scent. The feel of him. The sound of his heart beating against the side of my cheek. Just the way his chest rose and fell steadily with the sound of his breaths. The way he'd wiggle his nose and shake his whiskers when he was trying to “play it cool,” and not show just how happy he was to be here with me.

I was in love with my best friend, that was suppose to be the dream right? Then why was this all so complicated. If I were a dog, like him, would it be easier? Such thoughts were all I had as I finally gave in and took that nap I had been trying to resist this whole time. Sleeping on Richard was like sleeping on a breathing, snoring, farting, musky, groping cloud.

That night we headed out to the Ball and Chain, a bar the gang liked to go too. Though it wasn't technically a leather club, most the canines inside were dressed that way. Then again the pit bull behind the counter was wearing a ball gag. Like everyone else in the bar, he also had a collar on. He went the extra mile though and an unmanned leash connected to it. He also had both his nipples pierced, with a vest on, spiked wrist bands and with a bulge that might even put Richard to shame.

At the chocolate labrador's request, I was wearing a collar with his name on it. A shirt belonging to him. A his old thong like undies. I didn't ask and he spent an hour before we actually left whining for me to at least try them on… and once I did? “Welp, you're already wearing 'em.” Was Richard's response and ended up wrestling me into submission so I couldn't take them off. I'm not sure how he pinned me down, in doggie style. One of Richard's skills I suppose.

“Yo, Richie!” The bartender said, mixing up a drink with his hand. The pit bull beamed widely, showing one too many teeth, and turned towards me. “So this your master?” At first I thought he was joking.

“Yes.” Richard said.

“No.” I said quickly at the same time, blushing already. The pit bull sniffed a few times, figured I was lying and went back to Richard. I'm not sure when the chocolate Labrador had managed to slip not only a leash on himself but wrapped the end of it around my wrist.

“The usual?” The gray fur pit bull asked.

“Make it a double.” Richard just replied holding up two fingers. “Put it on my tab.”

“Of course.” The other dog just chuckled.

I was too embarrased to watch him make the drinks, spied Max giving me a wave from the corner and quickly moved over to join him, letting Richard's leash drop down by his side. As if I was still holding it though, the chocolate labrador followed along giving people to our left and right a greeting. He had no shame, an I envied that of him.

As an agreement we would go out as often as we could instead of being cooped up inside. Now that the heat wave had finally passed it seemed like a great idea. Unfortunately I wasn't from here and still knew very little of the area. As such it was Max and Richard who had to come up with ideas and places to go and because of this they were somewhat biased.

“Here you are, sugar.” A foxie little terrier said dropping off a plate of french fries covered in what looked like chili, a couple of hamburgers and two pink froo froo drinks and a cold beer for Max. The terrier battered his eyes at me and stayed a little longer than I thought was necessary.

Max spun the whole tray around so the french fries were in front of him. While it was common courtesy to try and not eat with ones mouth open, this didn't seem to apply to Max who went to town on those fried potato wedges.

“What is this?” I asked as Richard offered me some from his portion. I took a fry and sniffed the topping; it was some sort of gravy soaked bread crumb, meat mesh that I hadn't seen before.

“Pedigree,” Richard just said taking the fry I had picked up in his whole muzzle and suckling on my fingers in the process. He gave me a wide grin as I frowned at him.

“Isn't that like a brand of dog food?” I muttered in a whisper towards the chocolate labrador who only scooted closer.

“The best!” He assured me. And I laughed. I looked at him, then at Max and my smile slowly began to fade away.

I had seen in their cabinet several cans of the stuff. They even had a huge bag of the dry stuff. I never actually thought it was for consumption. I had just assumed it was for a… dog… I had never seen.

Richard had complained about money from time to time and Max had gotten angry that there was “another mouth to feed” in the house. I never thought it had gotten it to the point where can dog food was an actual option.

Then again, looking around. I could see that Richard and Max wasn't the only canine enjoying their meal. I guess I was the odd one out.

I still refused when he offered me some once more, saying I had only come for the drinks and with a laugh and a lie told him I had eaten before I had come over anyways. Richard quirked an eyebrow at that, the gears in his brain turning just enough to realize that I had stayed over last night and that we hadn't really had anything today other than some cereal. Thankfully Max once more interrupted us, a habit of his as it seemed, and I gladly jumped at the offer to play a game of pool.

“Loser buys next round.” Max just challenged and I jumped on the chance to get my ass whooped by him if it meant not having to lie to Richard anymore.

I used to play pool in my college days and I wasn't no rookie at it. I even could hit the ball from behind my back, showing off a bit for the crowd that had gathered around. I even accepted the beer, half drunk mind you, from Max to quench my thirst as the game heated up as we went into round three.

It was the third game, final ending (so to be speak) and it took a skip, a hop and a very lucky curve shot to make the eight ball in.

“And that's how it's done!” I said loudly, tossing the pool stick onto the table. I got a loud cheer from Richard and before I could catch my breath was whisked up into the air, spun around and kissed fully on the lips from the chocolate labrador.

So of course I was red from my face down to my toes, but it didn't end there. Richard congratulated me with the kiss, then laid me back on the pool table. He pulled my shirt up which made my voice go far higher than it ever had before, “Richard!”

Then he poured his fuzzy navel over navel and went to town licking, slurping and lapping it up. I tried to stop him of course but at some point Max had gotten on the other side, pulled my head back and began pouring drinks down my throat. I don't know where the fuck he got the bottles from but they had those spouts on the end and Max, being a sore loser (or a very good one?), tipped them all the way up until they both were practically empty.

Richard pulled me up just as quickly and once more before I could stop him, kissed me roughly enough to force the slice of lime he had in his muzzle into my own. I had done Tequila shooters before but never like this.

Richard moved me quick enough, pulling me off the pool table and back to our own. My head was spinning and all I recalled was two other dogs resetting up the pool table as if nothing had just happened.

“Damn,” I could only say as my thoughts blurred around inside my skull like they were on power wash. “What would you have done if I lost?” I somehow managed to ask, probably not so coherently as I thought I did.

“You would've had to done it to Max.” The pit bull said, bringing us another round of drinks. He gave me a wink at that.

Max snorted but he never did actually say no to the prospect. I liked to think I was beginning to rub off on him, in the good way.

“It's Sunday.” Max clarified, as if that was actually explaining anything. “Figured Richard would treat ya',” was all he finished with as if he had somehow been talking about himself. Not that Richard seemed to mine.

“I can't believe you did that.” I blushed, half joking with him about and half pissed off as hell. I wasn't one to be the center of attention, even if just walking into this place stinking of Richard wasn't enough. I liked to float along without being ignored or notice. How it always worked at work, well how it used too anyways. I both playfully and meaningfully punched him in his shoulder. Richard barely seemed to feel it; with the state I was in? Just glad I hit the real one.

We stayed there for some time, long enough for me to get over the state I was in anyways. “Still can't believe you did that.” I was joking about it now as I playfully nudged him in the side as we walked out of the bar and towards Max's old truck.

It was at this time we noticed the graffiti. Across the alleyway, sprawled over the wall, in massive letters was only a couple of words. It said enough, though.

“ GO BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME FROM!” And, much to my horror, there was a dead animal in front of it. It's own blood had been used.

I tried not to throw up, looking away. “We s-should call the cops!” I began, earnestly, reaching into my pocket for my phone. Max caught my arm.

“Not like they'd come.” He just grunted. “Be back in a sec'.” He finished, turning around to head back inside. No doubt to inform the bartender about what happened.

“But...” I tried to say but it was Richard of all people to cut me off. He just smiled, turning me away.

“There's a small, cute little yogurt shop open until 3.” Richard began in a hollow tone. He forced himself to keep smiling. “It tastes just like ice cream! Can't even tell the difference.” He kept going on to say. “With sprinkles, strawberries and cookie dough.”

“Richard,” I tried to say but was cut off once more.

“Alex.” He said loudly, catching me off guard. Richard was tense, I could tell. His hands were clenched tightly into fist and the fur on his back was standing up. I've never seen him like this. Ever, before. His jowls quivered and for a second he flashed teeth. “This isn't the first time. Or last.” He just said frankly. And his fur deflated and his shoulders slouched.

“...” I wanted to say more on it but knew it wasn't my place. “This yogurt place,” I offered then. As fake a smile as had been on Richard's face. “Does it also sell fudge.” I teased a bit knowing Richard aversion to chocolate.

“The best.” Richard just teased back, nudging my arm and the two of us headed down the alley away. I could hear people come out of the bar, some very loud cuss words coming form the bartender followed. Max joined us shortly and just as quiet as we had been before we drove off to get yogurt and no one said anything else about what had happened not even five minutes ago…