The Prisoner's Release and Other Stories (19 page)

Indeed, his paw found a small pot after several seconds of groping. He brought it up to the bed and balanced it carefully in front of Mikka’s belly, wedging his arm back under the fox. With one paw, he stroked the fox’s member, enjoying the way it slid through his slick paw pads. Mikka was enjoying it too, if his reactions were any indication. In fact, Jonas stopped when the fox’s panting and his body’s tremors started to roughen. “Don’t finish without me,” he murmured in Mikka’s ear, and the fox made a small whimper in reply. His shaft was hard and dripping more than just oil as Jonas removed his paw, giving the already-thick knot a squeeze that made Mikka shiver again.

“
Just a second,” he murmured, and Mikka turned to lie on his back.

“
Let me?” The fox didn’t wait for an answer, but dipped his paw in the pot and then slid it over Jonas’s length.

“
Ohh…okay.” Jonas panted as the delicate paw moved up and down his member, far more than was necessary to get it slickened with oil. Mikka might not be an expert, but he certainly knew how to use his paws, with firm strokes and teasing touches of his blunt claws. A detached part of Jonas’s mind reflected on how useful it was to have claws made dull from an inability to retract them; had he tried what Mikka was doing, he would certainly draw blood. And even though his body was trembling with arousal, that part of his mind kept analyzing what Mikka was doing, figuring out the shortcomings, and appreciating the expertise.

There were few enough shortcomings, he had to admit. Mikka was lifting his shaft away from his body, using both paws to stroke the length and concentrating on the tip, and paying attention to when Jonas moaned or squirmed particularly hard. He came back to those places, and nibbled at Jonas’s chest fur and around his stomach, tickling pleasantly. Jonas shivered, listening to the analytical part of his mind tell him that pretty soon he’d better remove Mikka’s paw unless he wanted to get his stomach sticky.

Mikka grinned when he did, white teeth showing against his grey fur, and turned around without being told. Jonas dabbed some of the oil under the fox’s tail, pressing it up into the warm opening there and working his finger around. He would’ve teased Mikka longer, but he found that he badly wanted to get in there himself, and so he did, sliding in easily all the way up as he pulled the fox’s body against his.

“
Oh!” Mikka squeaked. Jonas reached around to stroke the fox’s member but found that Mikka was already taking care of that, stroking with quick whimpers, so Jonas just thrust in and out, closing his eyes and burying his nose in the fox’s warm fur.

“
Oh. Jonas. Oh. Ohhh.” Mikka was writhing now, bucking back against him, pulling Jonas along, and the cougar was pounding his hips hard into the fox now, feeling the muscles of the fox’s rear tighten and release, tighten and release, stroking his erection with each thrust, and when Mikka cried out in a series of staccato barks and Jonas felt and smelled the fox’s climax, it did not take him much longer. Mikka had barely started to relax when Jonas growled, thrust against him hard, pulling the slight body into him, and shuddered as he came.

“
Oh.” He pushed his head into the thick neck ruff, panting.

“
Mmm. You never came like that before.”

“
Mmm.”

A feather touch of claws brushed the back of his paw, and his arm. “I liked that. No, stay in.” Jonas had started to pull out, but Mikka pressed his rump back into Jonas’s hips. “I like it in.”

“
Okay.” His lust sated, Jonas was now very sleepy and fast returning to a state of confusion. He didn’t know what to say to Mikka now. After all their previous encounters, the fox had gotten dressed and left. Memories of Alexan surfaced again, but this time Jonas found them oddly comforting, a barrier to his doubts and nightmares. They softened the night and carried him into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

He woke with a sudden start, not sure why. The smell of sex had faded slightly, but he still had the uncomfortable feeling of having dozed off in one of the Jackal’s Staff rooms. Turning over, he saw Mikka sitting by the stove, wearing a black shirt and dark blue pants, his ears back and his eyes soft. If Jonas hadn’t been able to tell that Mikka was mourning Alexan’s death from the black shirt (and initially, in the disoriented just-awake state, he couldn’t), he could not mistake the shine of tears in the dark brown eyes.

“
Why didn’t you tell me, dear?” Mikka dabbed a handkerchief at his eyes.

“
I was afraid you’d be angry.”

“
Angry?” Mikka barked a laugh that had little humor behind it. “With you or with him?”

“
Who?”

“
Alexan.” Mikka sighed. “He never did take care of himself. Always reaching for the precipice and not really watching where his feet were. He could be so sweet and then he would just forget. I hoped you could take his rough periods and smooth them out, but maybe that was too tall a task for anyone to handle. I’m sorry, dear.” He placed a paw on Jonas’s arm. “I don’t mean to make you feel bad. There’s nothing you could have done.”

“
Who told you?”

“
Benton. He stopped by this morning to see how you were doing. He asked how I was handling it. I said, ‘Quite well, judging from his response.’” He chuckled softly and then had to dab at his eyes again. “That confused him.”

“
I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“
I understand. At least, I think I do. The family is burying him today, if you want to go.”

“
No.” He knew he should, but he couldn’t bear to face the family members he’d never met, and he knew the funeral would only bring up bad memories again.

Mikka looked surprised, and then disappointed. “All right. I’ll give you the landlords’ addresses again so you can go round to them today. Do come back tonight, though. I feel like I want to talk about him a little more. Nobody else really knew him like we did.”

Talk more about Alexan? Jonas couldn’t imagine anything he’d want to do less. He was still trying to adjust from the heated lovemaking of the night before to this somber and tearful remembrance. In a way, he was grateful for it, because it completely circumvented the potential awkwardness of the morning. It worried him too, though, because although he knew how to handle sex, death and mourning he had only a passing acquaintance with.

He nodded anyway, and Mikka smiled at him. “Go ahead and get dressed. You can wash in back again if you want to, but cover yourself. The boys are downstairs.”

“
Thanks.”

“
I’ll see you tonight, kitten.” Mikka climbed down the stairs.

Jonas sniffed himself and decided to wash. The cold water woke him up further; he scrubbed his fur, shook, and dried off quickly. The silk clothes didn’t protect him from the wind, but at least the workshop was warm.

Mikka had given him three names and approximate directions to find them. All were close by, ostensibly so Jonas wouldn’t get lost, but Jonas suspected ulterior motives on the grey fox’s part. The previous night had been nice, but looking back on it, Jonas wasn’t at all sure that it was something he wanted to repeat. How long would it be before Mikka started asking him for other favors too? Did he really care for him, or did he just think he was something pretty, like his shirts and pants, that he wanted to have around? In either case, could Jonas be sure he wouldn’t betray him somehow? He didn’t love the fox, but he was beginning to like him, and he didn’t want to see him hurt.

So he started with the furthest of the three landlords, working in reverse order from the instructions Mikka had forced him to repeat twice. The first (or last) of the three owned a building on River View Drive, which had probably been aptly named before the proliferation of buildings on its east side. But Jonas could smell the river, standing on the front stoop, and it was a pleasant smell. The Jackal’s Staff had been close enough to the river that the smell had been a constant background, but so ingrained into the surroundings that Jonas hadn’t even realized he’d missed it until now.

A well-dressed wolf in white shirt and red vest opened the door, adjusting the spectacles on his muzzle to peer at Jonas. “Yes?”

Jonas bowed and extended a paw. “My name is Jonas. Mikka sent me to ask about renting a room from you.”

“
Renting?” The wolf looked him up and down. “What’s happened to your family?”

“
I’m not a noble.” Jonas wondered if he should just open conversations with that.

The wolf’s ear’s flicked. “I’ve got no rooms, son. Give Mikka my regards.” He closed the door before Jonas could answer.

Backtracking towards Mikka’s shop, Jonas walked in circles three times before he found the second address. The river smell was just noticeable here when the wind was right, but the street was not a large promenade; rather, it was part of a small square that was set back from Denning Street. Mikka had told him to look for Chrillich Square off Denning Street, but there was no sign on the square and so Jonas had walked past it twice before realizing that there were no other squares in the neighborhood.

He found the number 5 affixed to a two-story brick building with bright blue wood trim. The shutters were blue as well, but a darker blue, and so was the wooden porch he walked up on to approach the door. Jonas knocked, and then sat on the bench, looking at the well-swept floor and the bright shine on the windows.

He didn’t hear the door open, but he saw the black-and-white flash as a skunk’s muzzle appeared in the doorway. It found him immediately and a female voice said, “Yes?”

Jonas stood quickly. “Mikka told me to come see you about a room.”

She scanned him up and down, and he prepared his ritual denial, but she just gave a small ‘hmph’ and nodded. “C’mon in.”

He followed her into a tidy room and shut the door behind himself. The skunk's bosoms nearly bounced out of her linen blouse as she spun her ponderous weight around to face him, brushing aside the mop of black and white fur between her ears so she could see him clearly. Her eyes were black, but caught the light and danced with it, so that even when she was looking at him sternly, as she was now, there was a playful air about her.

The distinctive smell didn’t bother Jonas much; it reminded him of Alexan’s, only stronger and less vulpine. Several jasmine plants blooming by the window helped make the odor tolerable, and the skunk obviously kept a clean house. The small room he had entered held two chairs and a large stuffed sofa, and a clean rug with a simple pattern in the center of the floor.

“
My name’s Hazel,” the skunk said. “What’s yours?”

“
I’m Jonas.”

“
Good. Now we got that outta the way. The room is three gold a month. You keep it clean, you don’t have guests without askin’ me, and I don’t come in the room ‘less you say so. You got an outhouse, and my boy will carry hot water up to you every morning. I do laundry once a week. You give me yours, I do it. You don’t, I don’t. I don’t come lookin’ for it, is what I mean. Gaiadays the house has dinner. You can come or not. You want me to cook for you other nights, it’s another five silver a month. “ She cocked her head at him. “Still interested?”

Jonas smiled. “I’d need to talk about the guest thing. What if I had customers, rather than guests?”

“
Friend of Mikka, it doesn’t surprise me you sellin’ something. What’s your line?”

“
What?”

“
What do you sell?” she asked patiently.

“
Oh. Well…me.”

Now she folded her arms and he thought he detected a smile in the black fur of her muzzle. “You going to be whoring outta my house, boy?”

Her manner put him at ease in a way that, he was surprised to find, reminded him of Tally’s. “Yes, ma’am.” He managed his best grin.

“
And what is my incentive for letting this activity go on?”

“
A portion of every customer’s payment.” She didn’t react, so he said, “Or I could pay more monthly rent.”

“
Hmm.” She brought one large paw up to stroke her muzzle. “Let me see the goods.”

“
What?”

“
I need to make a business decision. Got to have all the information.” She sat down on the sofa and waved downwards with her paw. “Take your trousers off, boy.”

Jonas moved a paw hesitantly to the fastenings of his pants. “Go on,” Hazel said. “I promise I won’t touch.”

How could it hurt? Even if she were just doing it out of interest, he didn’t really care. And he liked her, and he was sure the playful gleam in her eyes was friendly. He undid the knots and let his trousers fall to the floor.

“
Mmm.” Her gaze lingered on his sheath. “Nice. You know how to use that, I guess.”

“
Four years working for a house.” Technically, three plus half a year “working” for Alexan.