October Caption Challenge (12/31)
It was hard not to feel self conscious.
Taking selfies helped. Aaron usually took a couple before leaving, just to help psyche himself up. They weren’t…great photos, but it helped a little. He always felt a little silly going to Pigtown looking like this, dressed like he was going to some business conference or something, but he didn’t exactly have any of the gear that he saw a lot of guys wearing in the bar and the neighborhood. Why did he keep going back there? He knew he didn’t belong, but he wanted to. That was it, wasn’t it. He wanted to belong there, so badly, but he knew he never would, not really.
It didn’t stop him from going. He still went to the bars, to the shops, to the events. He went to see what he could have if he was less afraid, if he just…let go.
Maybe tonight would be different. Maybe he would do more than stand and stare, and then slip into the glory holes, and suck cocks where no one could see him, and then wake up back home, with no memory of how he had gotten there.
Then, he saw him–or rather, he was seen by him. That was more important.
A handsome muscle bear, smoking a cigar. He smelled of fresh musk and light beer. Aaron looked away, embarrassed, but the man came up to him and started talking to him, asking him how he’d been, like he was just an old friend, and they were getting reacquainted. Talking to him like he’d known him forever. Talking to Aaron like he belonged there.
It was only natural to drink a bit too much. And the more he drank, the harder it became to really focus on his fellow. He realized he didn’t quite know his name, that his face was just as slippery as all the things he was learning about him, but despite all of that, he still craved the acknowledgement, and so, it was only natural to bring him home. What happened after that, was less clear.
And then in the morning, things were much, much too clear.
Aaron woke to the smell of rough cigars and rancid musk–not the same as the man he’d met outside the bar, the man who had known him so well. He was already awake and had made himself coffee, smoking a cigar in a filthy undershirt he had not been wearing the night before. Aaron was sure of it, wasn’t he?
“Mornin’,” he said. The voice was right, almost.
“What…who are you?”
“Come on, after that nice time last night, pig, ya gonna pretend ya don’t even remember?”
He didn’t remember, did he? But looking back, all of the memories of that handsome bear were gone, replaced by this lout, this slob, this pig. How had he been so wrong?
“Gotta say pig, you were delicious. Best meal I’ve had in ages. Might as well give ya something yummy in return, eh? Ya want yer breakfast?”
“I want ya out of my apartment, is what I want,” Aaron said, but his voice–it was wrong too. And his arm, had he had those tattoos? And he was fatter, and…and what the fuck had happened to him? And to his apartment? His well kept two bedroom was just a filthy studio now, and from the sound outside, he wasn’t in the quiet suburban neighborhood from before.
“In a minute, piggy–come on now, drink up,” the man said, shoved his cock in Aaron’s mouth, and let loose a stream of piss. He choked on it, feeling it dribble down into his beard and the filthy bed below him, and it was…delicious. He tried to remember who he’d been, his job, his life, but it was…gone. This man, this shifter, had stolen it all from him, and left him with this. With that, the stranger left, leaving Aaron on his knees, horrified, with no clue what to do. And at night, his hunger led him back to the bar. He only lived a few blocks away now, and he had a gloryhole reserved for him. It was his place. He finally belonged, somewhere here. Even if most only knew him as a cundump or a urinal. It was something, at least. He could be happy with that.