“What’d ya do that for?” The Ruff said, and pulled the overalls back up, “I can’t work without my overalls up.”

“But…but where’s your cock? What the fuck is this?”

The Ruff just looked at him, confused. “Cock?”

“Yeah, cock! A dick, a penis–what you fuck with. You fuck, right? Getting all hot and sweaty on the job site with those other big men, you get all horny, and you fuck. I know all about those construction zones, and what you all really do all day.”

The Ruff scratched his head, carefully to avoid displacing his hat, like he was trying to think. “Is…is that what they’re all doing? I don’t know, I just keep working, until my shift is over, then I take the hat off, and I’m done.”

Darren just stared at him, and then put his head in his hands.

“I’m starting to think you don’t actually have any work for me to do, so I’m gonna…go, I think,” the Ruff said, took off the hat, and after a moment, Trey was standing there like before.

He took one look at Darren’s shocked face, and started laughing. “There, see? I told you you’d be disappointed.”

“Are you telling me, that all this time, there hasn’t ever been a Ruff with a–with–” he paused, running his tongue around his mouth, “Why the hell can’t I say it?”

Trey shook his head, “Part of the deal. No one can talk about it.”

“But…but everyone always thought…”

“I think Abrahams started the tales as a bit of a joke, especially since no one can say anything about it. It’s weird. But no–Ruffs are all work and no play, literally. It makes for a pretty boring workday, believe me, especially when everyone around you is enjoying themselves.”

Darren just stared at him for a moment, and then sat down in a chair, head in his hands. “This…I can’t fucking believe it. All this time, all of the times I jacked off thinking about fucking Ruffs, and…”

Trey set the RuffHat back down on the table, “Don’t feel bad man, it’s not like you could have known.”

“You don’t fucking get it, I’ve been looking for one of these for…for fucking ever, and I thought I’d finally…” he looked over at Trey, “He did smell…so fucking good though…”

Trey nodded. “So, you still wanna go out? Cubsters, or maybe Sid’s Shack? I’ve had some good times there, if you don’t mind things getting rough.” Darren didn’t say anything in reply, and Trey walked over and set a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, come on, you aren’t the first guy to get duped by the thing. Don’t let it get to you. It’s just a damn practical joke.”

He sighed, “Yeah, Sid’s sounds good, I guess…still, it was a dream, you know?”

“Yeah, I do know. Truth hurts. But come on, let’s deal with it later, yeah? We can go be a couple fucks who don’t give a shit–and I could use some not giving a shit at the moment.”

A few hours later, the two of them burst back through the door of Trey’s apartment, looking rather different. Darren had opted for the biker brews–sampling a bit more than he’d been planning on, bulking up, clothes turned to leather, pushing Trey against the wall, wearing a ratty undershirt and smelling of ash and grease, trucker hat on his head, rubbing their guts together. It was good for a while, but when dawn came it faded, leaving Trey feeling…worse than before, somehow, and not just from swinging between bodies and minds. Darren was still sleeping beside him, and Trey couldn’t help but wonder if he would have ever come back to see him if he hadn’t had that RuffHat. Probably not. Why would he have wanted to? What could Trey have possibly offered him? What could he offer anyone? Willis had seen the truth, he supposed, that Trey was no one at all, just a lead weight holding him back with nothing to offer. It was like he’d been able to see Trey changing before he’d even noticed a thing about it himself. Maybe he wasn’t even really changing at all.

Even last night, as much fun as it had been…had it even been real? Had he and Darren really gotten to know each other any better? Within minutes of stepping into the bar, neither of them had been themselves anymore, after all. He felt closer to that biker, who was now gone with the dawn, than he did with the bear still sleeping in his bed, who’d replaced him. Could you ever really know anyone in the city? It felt like, more and more, like there was something surrounding Trey, separating him from everyone else–a force, or a screen, or clothes, and even when you got down to their skin, that wasn’t close enough. There was always something between him and everyone else, something impassable. All you got was what was on the surface, but what if you wanted more than that? He had to believe there was more than that…or else what was he? Just a doll for Darren to dress up at night, and ignore during the day?

The thought depressed him, and he rolled Darren out of bed and told him he needed to go. Darren seemed a bit lost himself, and Trey noticed him casting a few longing glances at the RuffHat still sitting on the table as he put his clothes back on and left. Trey found himself alone, and staring at the hat too. He should go to work. He should keep trying…but it all felt so hopeless now, like everything had been laid out in front of him, neatly, in the light of day. He’d been a fool to even imagine, for a moment, that anyone would want to be with him. Better to not inflict himself on anyone–better to stay here, eat, jack off, and stop pretending he was fit for anything more than that.

Trey sighed, and started getting out of his clothes.

“Hey wait, what are you doing?” Darren asked.

“You don’t get it–have you ever even been around a real Ruff before? Have you even been a Ruff?”

“I can’t say I’ve had the privilege, no, but for me, I’ve always been a lot more interested in being with one than being one.”

“That’s not…look, I understand the appeal, I really do, there’s always been a whole thing about them, but I’m not just going to be your little…fantasy thing, for you.”

“It’s your fantasy too, or else why are you putting it on everyday?” Darren said, “Not like it’s working, I mean, look at yourself.”

“I fucking know that,” Trey said, “You think I can’t fucking see that?” He started getting out of his work clothes, “Get the fuck out, this is such a fucking waste of my fucking time.”

“Oh yeah?” Darren said, “and what are you gonna do instead? Sit in here and feel sorry for yourself, if you feel fucking anything at all?” He sighed, and sat down on the bed. “Look, we…don’t know each other, I get that. I don’t have any right to tell you what to do, or who to be, but I just…you were so much…fun that night, and in the morning, I could see how miserable you were, but you don’t have to be. Maybe you’re right, maybe it won’t work, but then we could always try something else. So what do you say, you wanna have a bit of fun? Or do you just want to be miserable?”

Trey sighed, and looked at the Ruffhat in his hands, and down at himself, already mostly dressed. “I’m not…opposed to going out somewhere. We could go to Cubsters again, or something a little rougher if you want, but this…this isn’t going to work how you think it’s going to work.”

“You mean it’s not going to turn you into the hulking, muscular, hairy construction worker of my deepest fantasies?” Darren said, and Trey chuckled.

“Fine, you know what? You wouldn’t believe me even  if I could tell you, so how about I just show you instead? I’ll put it on, you’ll see what I’m talking about, and then we’ll take it off, have a chuckle, and figure out something else to do instead.”

Trey took a deep breath, and set the RuffHat on his head, and the last thing he remembered seeing clearly was the pure glee on Darren’s face, and then the familiar sensation of pleasant, happy dumb settled over his mind like a fog. The hat was on; it was time for work, right? But around him…this wasn’t a place for work, right? It wasn’t even the time for work–it was dark out. Not morning dark, not get a cup of coffee and get to work dark. Night dark. Sleep dark.

Darren just watched the change sweeping through Trey’s body, from the head down to his feet. He’d…heard about these before. Hell, he’d even known a few guys who’d owned one at one point or another, but they’d passed them along or lost them in the course of a Change, as things go. The face–it was still Trey’s face, mostly, but as the hat went on him, there were small shifts in him. His jaw grew more angular, his eyes sank back into a heavier brow, a thick stubble grew in across his cheeks, and became a full beard in a matter of moments. The rest of his body followed suit, remaining similar, but taking on new characteristics. Broader shoulders, even as he shrank slightly, losing a few inches in height, giving him a thick silhouette. More hair filled in, not that all of it was easy to see, but from the coating across his shoulders under the straps of his overalls, he likely had quite the pelt…but just like everyone had always told him–it was the smell that was most divine.

Sawdust, fresh sweat, gravel, the heat of the sun. It was all there, and it was so divine. All of him was so divine. “So…uh…ya got some work for me to do ‘round here?” he said. “I, uh, don’t really see any tah do, but I’d be happy tah–”

Before the Ruff could say anything else, Darren moved in closer and kissed him, and for one magical moment everything was exactly how he imagined it, and then the Ruff sputtered and shoved him away.

“What the hell’d you do that for?” the Ruff said, wiping his lips.

Darren just looked at him in confusion. “Because…because you’re sexy as all hell, man, what’s wrong with you?”

The Ruff just shook his head. “No, see, I do work–that’s what I’m for. You…you have some work? I could, uh, hammer things, or carry some stuff, or, well, you know, things like that! I’m real good at it. There has to be some work, or else, why am I here?”

“Work?” Darren said, “I get it–yeah, I know some work for you to do, for sure.” He stepped close again, and undid the clasps on the Ruff’s overalls before he could stop him, and reached for the Ruff’s cock, only to find…nothing. Confused, he looked down and saw that where the Ruff’s cock and balls should have been, there was…nothing. Just a dense patch of hair, and nothing else.

Trey didn’t go out again for the next few days. In fact, it was difficult to even find the energy and gumption to get up in the morning and go to work. He was spiraling down further and further into himself, into whatever and whoever he was Changing into, putting on more weight, looking at more porn, jacking off more and more–enjoying his own company, and the company of his computer more than anything else. He was close to giving in, and he could feel it, that thin membrane between one self and the next, when you slide from becoming someone into an uncoming, and lastly a final retreat away from a set of memories that you can no longer relate to, except as ghosts. He thought about Willis, though. He found some old pictures of him on his hard drive, more than…he remembered having before, and he found himself jacking off to those over and over, jacking off to him even as his memories of being with him were fading, finding it a comfort that now he was just an image. Flat. Now, he could finally be exactly what Trey wanted him to be, and nothing else. Nothing complicated.

He found the little note from Darren a couple days later, stuck to the fridge, when Trey decided to finally try and cook something for himself, rather than just ordering something in again. It had a phone number, and a suggestion that they go out again sometime (as themselves or as someone else), but Trey assumed it was just a polite gesture, but not a serious proposition, at least until he got a knock on the door late one evening, while he was busy at the computer, masturbating again. He simply assumed it was some food he’d ordered, and forgotten about ordering, cleaned himself up a bit and tucked his dick back into his underwear, and answered the door.

He didn’t recognize Darren at first, not because he’d done anything to change, but just because Trey had been in such a hurry that morning he hadn’t really bothered taking stock of the man he’d ended up going home with. He was older, somewhere in that middle age valley most men in the city settle into, a little pudgy, with a round face and square goatee. He had no food with him, and so, Trey had no real idea why this stranger had knocked on his door.

“Looks like someone could use another night out,” Darren said. “You doing ok?”

Trey just looked at him another moment, until it finally occurred to him who this must be. “Darren…right? Uh…why are you…here?”

Darren shrugged, “Well, you didn’t call or text, and I was nearby, and wanted to…see how you were doing.”

Trey found that difficult to believe.

“You, uh, need some company?” Darren asked.

Trey just gave him a side eye. “I’m, uh…not really expecting company, or anything,” he looked down at himself, at his rather slobbish, gross self at the moment, and then back at Darren. “Why are you really here?”

Darren sighed, “Look, I’ve been there man, most of us have been. You…obviously don’t want to be doing this to yourself, or you wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of getting a damn RuffHat. But you can’t do it alone, right? You need some company, someone who can break you out of your self-sorry rut. If you don’t want help, or even some company, if you just want to keep jacking off in there until you don’t want to do anything else, fine.”

It sounded rather final, and a bit harsh, but Darren didn’t turn around and go. He just stood there, until it was clear he was going to make Trey do the dirty work of telling him to leave, but he honestly was glad to see someone else’s face, and the fact that Darren had come all the way here to see him was touching. “I’m not doing anything else, I suppose, so come on in.”

Darren shook his head, “Nah, why don’t we go out?”

Trey heaved a sigh, “Look, I…I had a nice time, before, but that’s not something I usually do. It makes me…seasick, bouncing around like that.”

“Well you’re never going to be someone different that this if you don’t go out and be someone,” Darren said, “Look, I had an idea. Just give me one night with you, and if you don’t enjoy it, you don’t have to do it ever again, and you can just keep being…this, if that’s really what you’d rather be doing.”

Trey didn’t have anything else to do, and so he stepped aside and Darren entered, looked around the place, before finding some of Trey’s work clothes on the floor, and told him to put those on. Trey didn’t get it. “I thought you wanted to go out somewhere?” he asked.

“Just humor me, come on.”

So Trey humored him, though they didn’t fit particularly well on his chubbier frame, since he’d bought them more for when he had his RuffHat on–and that was when it clicked. “Hold on, you just want to get me into the RuffHat, is that what this is all about?”

“What? No…I mean…alright, fine, you got me, but you have to admit it’s a good idea, right?” Darren said, “That’s what those hats do after all, the more you wear it, the burlier you get, right? You just haven’t been wearing it enough, obviously.”

With that, Trey didn’t say anything else, he just pulled on some socks and work boots, and then left Darren to his own devices in his place, and hurried down to the street so he could get to work at the construction site, hard hat in hand.

Work, in the city, was an odd endeavour, and it certainly wasn’t for everyone, or even for most. After all, what was there to labor for, in a city where everyone could have what they needed at any moment? The city provided everything you might need–everything but a purpose, but most men could find ways to manage that inconvenience. Still, work did have a certain appeal, to a certain kind of character. For some, play felt so much more rewarding after a day of work, while for others, work became a kind of service, something they could provide for their own innate pleasures, or perhaps for the pleasure of a master. Some others desired it merely as a way to fill time, something to provide a rhythm to the endless cycle of change, something they could use to entertain themselves while they waited for a better reason to come along, as reasons had a way of doing, eventually.

But Trey wasn’t working for purpose, or for pleasure, or for service, his was a more…desperate measure, and much of that had to do with the hard hat he held in his hand, better known as a RuffHat, as they had been branded years ago, when, as Darren had said, the old craftsman Abrahams had first manufactured them. He had been an odd craftsman–most bears who crafted artifacts found pleasure in creating things that brought about a rather instant effect, but Abrahams advocated the particular pleasures of a slower, more deliberate process. He claimed a Change lasted longer for two reasons–first, if you wanted it, and second, if you earned it. So, he sought to give people ways to earn them.

Trey caught a bus, checked the clock again, and if he ignored the growl in his gut, he could almost convince himself all of this had turned out alright, and he really wasn’t running all that late. The bus moved out of downtown and towards an outlying sector of the city where much of the…rougher work happened in the city–the docks, the warehouses, the factories. He was headed for Construction Zone #5, where he worked as a grunt worker, building a new factory, or a new warehouse, or a new dock–it hardly mattered. Everything in the city was always changing anyway, and buildings and their purpose were no exception. When they finished, Zone #5 would move elsewhere, possibly tearing down some other, now derelict building, just to give the men something to do. Trey tried not to think about it, it was easier to not think about whether there was meaning in process with no resolution. Better bears then him had driven themselves nearly mad trying to reason their way to the meaning of the city and everyone’s place within it. Better to just exist. Better to stay in the moment.

He got off the bus and made his way towards the zone. The streets were full of men, most of them on the way to the same sorts of jobs he was going to, and all of them looking like they…belonged here. It only seemed to heighten what he’d been losing all of these last few months. Why was he even doing this? He’d been lying to Darren earlier, telling him this was something new he’d been doing, working with the RuffHat. He’d had this job for almost two months, and the only thing the hat had done for him was slow down what was happening to him. It seemed like an old joke somehow, that the hat was refusing to help him, most likely because his own guilt and insecurity was holding him back. He knew he didn’t deserve anything other than what he was sliding towards, and secretly, he was wondering if he might want it, as well. He should give it up, and just give in. It would be…so much easier, at least. He’d enjoy it too–giving into a Change always felt so satisfying, and maybe he’d finally be able to forget about Willis, and quit being haunted by all of this…but he didn’t want to be that–this loser. This pervert, this slob, this waste. He hadn’t been good to anyone, he could admit that, but he didn’t deserve this–no one did.

He slowed down as he got to the zone, and ducked into the nearby alley, where he prefered to change. Everyone in the zone knew he was a Ruff, but he…hated changing in front of them, he preferred arriving and leaving as the person working, without having to admit who he really was–without having to admit this wasn’t working at all. After all, Ruff’s commanded a certain inherent respect. It meant someone was working to improve themselves, and Ruffs were usually the hardest workers on any zone, when one showed up. It was…humiliating, in its own way. With a deep breath, he put the hat on his head, and felt it wash down over him. He leaned into the brick to steady himself, looking down at his body, watching his frame fill out the overalls, hair covering his arms and shoulders, his mind slowing down to a relative crawl–but a happy crawl. He was going to work. He liked working. He liked lifting things, and hammering, and carrying stuff, and he was good at it! He was a Ruff, after all, and that’s what Ruffs were most good at in the whole world. The Ruff grinned, wiped a thick hand across his heavy, tanned brow, and realized he needed to hurry. He was running late, and he’d feel real bad if he was late for the job–a good Ruff was never late. They worked hard, all the way to quitting time, and then they were done, and took off the hat, and then the Ruff could go away knowing he had done a good job until the next day, when he would get to work again.

The Ruff stepped out of the alley and hurried down to the zone, apologized to the foreman waiting for him for being late, and then got to work. Work was the best, wasn’t it? Nothing could satisfy a man like work. The Ruff could feel the apprehension inside him, which he was holding at bay for the moment, and it made him a bit sad, as he started hauling some bags of cement over to where some men were working on the foundation. Still, he’d work as hard as he could–it was all he knew how to do. There wasn’t anything more to being a Ruff than that, after all.

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.”

Trey didn’t want to admit it, but he was miserable. He hadn’t always been miserable, after all, he hadn’t even always been…himself, just like everyone in the city. But he couldn’t remember ever being so tired of himself, in such a very long time, and he didn’t even think he’d been…this for very long. He was in front of the mirror again, wishing he wasn’t, looking at himself, looking at everything he…detested about himself, about this self. He hated being young, he hated his pudgy gut and thin arms. He wanted to be hairier, he wanted to bald a little, he wanted…he didn’t want this, but he didn’t know what he could want instead. He lived in a city where he could be anyone, anyone other than this, and yet, he didn’t want to be…anyone else. He didn’t know what he wanted, and that made everything so much worse.

He had work in the morning, and he knew he shouldn’t go out, but he wanted to anyway, because he knew if he laid down, he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Instead, he would just think about everything else, about everyone else, about himself, and how he wished he could be anyone else, and wondering how everyone else managed to be happy, and wondering most of all if he’d ever be happy again, and wondering how long he was going to be alone, now, because most of all, he’d lie in bed thinking about Willis.

Because that’s what hurt the worst, that he was alone. So many men in the city, so many men he wanted, and…none of them seemed to want him at all. Because all of this wasn’t even really about him, he supposed, it was about Willis. It would have been easier, he supposed, if Willis had Changed, when he’d left. That would have been easier. Trey would have loved to have something to blame other than himself, but as it was, he had nothing else, and he knew it. It was his fault. He’d been so…content. Everything had seemed so easy–that, or he’d been too lazy to notice the growing rifts between them. Willis had been pulling away, but Trey assured himself he would always be there–until he was wasn’t. And when he was gone, Trey didn’t know what to do anymore.

It had been a blow, he could admit that now. He’d been so…happy as himself, but he hadn’t ever bothered to notice how much he’d needed someone else with him, until they were gone. And slowly, he found himself Changing. He lost the age, he lost the confidence, he lost the gusto and fur and muscle. He lost everything, and without it, who was he, really? He was just a loser. He was this loser, and secretly, he wondered if this was who he’d been this entire time, even with Willis, if Willis had been the magic in him all along. He knew he needed to apologize, he knew that he needed to acknowledge that he’d been shitty…but he couldn’t face him like this. There wasn’t any other option though, he knew that, but he had to be…honest, right?

So he knew he should sleep, and he knew this was a bad idea, but he got dressed and made his way through the streets to Cubsters, where he knew Willis would be, because that’s where Willis always was, these days. Walking through the streets was its own torture, mostly because he felt like he was invisible. Like, nothing he was now, was going to be enough for any of the men around him. He got the side-eye at the bar from the bouncer–he wasn’t really a bear, and he wasn’t really a cub, but he got waved in anyway. He didn’t feel like he deserved to be there though. Once he was inside, all of his insecurities come roaring back, all over again. He didn’t belong here, he should be back in his room. He could watch some porn and jack off a few times–that always made him feel better. He shook that urge off, knowing it wouldn’t end well, and then pushed through the crowd of young, sweaty cubs shaking and dancing to the throbbing music. It had always been infectious, the few times he’d come here before, but now, it just felt…loud and uncomfortable. He’d rather just be home, stroking off, feeling shitty about himself stroking off and…maybe ordering in a few pizzas…

He ordered himself something mild. He needed to stay…normal, if he was going to do this right. He staked out a table on the upper floor, where he could scan the crowd and look for his ex, and try and script something out in his head that would make…sense. But why was he even here, anyway? What was he hoping to get out of this? Did…he want to get Willis back, or was he just trying to get himself back? He couldn’t even really remember who he’d been before all of this, and he could feel it all slipping away even faster. But he did like watching, didn’t he? Yeah, he definitely liked watching guys fuck, hell, he liked it more than fucking…didn’t he? It was the kind of thing a loser like him would enjoy. He slipped a hand into his shorts, seeing a cub get bent over a pool table down below, another guy coming behind him to fuck him…but he pulled his eyes away. He wasn’t here for that. He was here to apologize, he was here to try and…stop this from happening to him.