City of Bears: The Skin Between (Part 2)

He kept scanning the crowd, and told himself he’d give it another half an hour before he abandoned the venture, went home, jacked off a few times, and fell asleep. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified when Willis finally walked through the door of the club, but the dial went to terrified and ashamed when he saw Willis head for a group of other cubs and start making out with…all of them. This had been a mistake. This whole thing had been such a terrible, terrible idea, and he knew that, but what had he really imagined might happen? How was this ever going to end, between that handsome fucker he’d lost and the loser he could feel himself becoming every moment? He should just leave. Not even this would last forever, he knew that, but it was worse to admit that he deserved it. He went downstairs, but didn’t head for the door. Instead he went to the bar, and ordered something strong. He chugged it, and when it was gone, he didn’t know who he was, and that was exactly who he wanted to be–anyone other than who he was slowly becoming.

He could be someone else, he could be this person. In one of the mirrored walls, he checked himself out, and he looked…good. He looked like a handsome cub, manly but soft in all the right places, down and desperate to be fucked. He’d get Willis back like this, wouldn’t he? Isn’t this what he wanted now? It’s who he was with at least, Trey could do this, he could be whoever Willis wanted him to be. He didn’t want to be anyone without him, he didn’t want to be a loser, he didn’t want to deal with that ever again. But as he crossed the dance floor, he forgot about Willis too. He forgot about everything except for how hot he was, and how the music was throbbing in his heart, and in his cock, and every cub around him smelled fantastic, and so he danced, and passed from man to man, losing himself in them, losing himself as best he could, and whenever the feeling started to fade, he went back to the bar and got another drink, and just kept going. From moment to moment, he could finally feel connected again. Connected when he looked in a cub’s dazed eyes, seeing the reflection on his own in the depths, the heat of his lips. He pushed hard against them, pulled them tight, trying to meet every point of his skin with theirs, but it didn’t last. They were always pulled away, or pushed themselves away, and he spun to someone else. Then, when the drinks started to fade, because the night was winding down into dawn, he went from clinging to drinks to clinging to whoever was nearby–the world spinning until everything was fading away, and then it was morning, he was in his bed, his head was pounding, but worst of all, he was late for work.

“Fuck, god fucking damn it…” Trey fumbled for his phone on the nightstand, and ended up nearly tumbling out entirely, catching himself with a hand on the floor, next to a set of underwear he didn’t recognize as his own. His arm gave way, and he tumbled the rest of the way out of the bed and onto the floor, with a thud and another string of curse words, loud enough to wake the bear in the bed with him.

Trey stood up, rubbing his shoulder where he whacked it, and looked at the stranger under the covers who had been sleeping with him, looking over at him blearily. “Uh, Hey, “ the man said, “You, uh, you alright?”

Trey looked around them, at the state of his apartment, at the state of himself, at the state of his whole reality slowly deteriorating into something he loathed, and all he felt was a deep, hopeless, shame. “I…sorry, I was sexier last night, I know,” he muttered, “and I hate to just…kick you out, but I have to get to work.”

The bear smirked, “No worries, I wasn’t quite myself last night either, but we had some fun, right? Or, at least, I did,” he stretched, and swung his arms over the side of the bed and stood up. The man was right–he wasn’t the chubby little cub Trey had taken home with him from the bar, in the same way Trey hadn’t been the swaggering cocky fireplug of a top eager to stuff the chubby boy’s holes. “It’s nice getting out of your own skin on occasion–you seem like a fellow who knows what I mean. The name’s Darren by the way, don’t think we exchanged pleasantries last night.”

“I…look, that…it was nice, but I really need to get going, I’m running really late,” Trey said, and pulled on a dirty workshirt and pulled up a pair of overalls. Darren watched him with a confused look on his face.

“Never much one for work, myself…but you don’t strike me as the sort of guy who’d be working in something like that.”

“It’s complicated,” Trey said, “It…I mean, can you just go? I’m sorry to just kick you out, but it’s been…a weird few days,” Trey said, but noticed Darren wasn’t looking at him, he was looking at the table, where a hard hat was resting.

“Is that…what I think that is?”

Trey heaved a sigh.

“You’ve got a RuffHat?” Darren said, and he couldn’t quite contain his glee, “Holy fuck, no wonder you’re so eager to get to work, I fucking would be too!” he shook his head, “How the hell did you get into that anyway? That shit is hard to find, ever since the Boutique disappeared when Old Abrahams Changed finally.”

“Friend of a friend. It’s not as exciting as you think, trust me.”

Feeling self-conscious, Trey walked over to the table and picked the hat up, and Darren just stared at him. “Well, put it on, I won’t bite.”

“I don’t put it on until I get to the site, it’s…otherwise I can have a hard time getting there.”

Darren was looking at him again, sizing him up more, “I thought they were supposed to, you know, have…certain effects.”

“I haven’t been at it for very long.”

Darren just looked at him again, a bit longer, and then shrugged. “Fine, don’t show off for me, sexy.”

“Trust me, it isn’t as sexy as you think. Reality is always a little disappointing.”

“Well maybe we should test that out sometime.”

Trey looked at the clock, and hissed a sigh, “I have to get going, alright? There’s…some food in the fridge if you’re hungry, just lock the door on the way out.”

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