Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

Three to Tango (Deante and Lasciel

It wasn't a mystery to her, either. She'd had a boyfriend in college who talked it up like it was the best thing since sliced bread (with her receiving, of course), and with some pressuring Amy had given it a shot. He hadn't been rough with her, but she had still found it uniquely unpleasant enough at the two-finger stage that she'd refused his whining and pleading to go any further. And after a good night's sleep, and a serious chat with her best friend, she'd dumped the asshole.

In contrast, Jonah had mentioned it, she'd declined and explained her prior experience, and that had been the end of it. Until now, though she would hardly count his proposal in the same vein at all.

"Um. Sure, I don't see why not. I don't think you need any stretching, though. But figuring out how to relax that, uh, that's probably important." Amy's fingers were long and slender, and she suspected he wouldn't have too hard of a time taking two or even three once he figured out how to unclench. And if he couldn't, well, that answered any further questions about exploring their current line of discussion. It wasn't a proposition that turned her on, but it didn't turn her off either and it felt like a logical progression towards her ultimate goal.

"We should probably read some how-to's on this to be sure, though." They'd watched porn together, but nothing educational on the subject. It would be a good first step. The porn could come in after, to get them back into the mood if their little exploration proved more upsetting to Jonah than they expected.

"And, uh, I should probably figure out what to do about these..." Raising one hand from the steering wheel she flexed her fingers, showing off the short non-retractable claws she kept filed to blunt but attractive points and painted a glossy ivory. They were good for back scratches and head scritches, and she knew how to be careful with herself, but the last thing they needed was an emergency room visit at the end of their exploration!



The answers to her unvoiced and voiced questions proved to be "three" and "nitrite gloves with cotton stuffed in the fingertips", and as they'd both expected it was less arousing and more awkward. Awkward, but intimate, as Amy stroked his lower back and tail and muttered encouraging words to help him relax his sphincter, and with an aggressive (probably excessive, but the snails said to use lots!) amount of lube and an equal quantity of patience she worked up to three fingers inside of him. They'd measured before starting, and three got them in the neighborhood of the average non-knotted circumference. That had been adventurous enough for them for one day.

Amy's next question was Jonah's as well: who. It left her scratching her ears, but it wasn't as if they needed to move immediately on the matter. It was far more important to find someone suitable than to find someone soon, and she didn't even know where to start. Her phone now had a few dating apps, but the joint profile she'd made for them had only gotten a few nibbles and some of the responses were...

A friend-of-a-friend seemed their most likely avenue. Someone they knew(ish) and had someone else to vouch for, and Amy's own social network of friends from hobby clubs and college was relatively vast even before counting in how Malia seemed to know absolutely everyone who'd ever so much as breathed in New Sparta. Figuring out who would be interested without causing drama or awkwardness was harder, but Amy felt up to the task. Her sleuthing skills weren't as good as Samantha Silvertail's, but they were still far better than average.

All of her worrying would prove to be for naught, though, as the perfect third would soon deliver himself right into their lap. Literally.
 
Intimate was certainly accurate. There are things married couples do after so long that go beyond the boundaries of most new relationships. That was how Jonah felt there. Not clenching was a challenge at first, but that was purely a reflex that had to be suppressed. Once he did, and had taken those digits, the experience was...interesting. Not pleasurable, yet, but intense. Especially when Amy tapped a tune out on his prostate. The jackal could understand how this might be pleasurable with the right mood. When she'd pulled out, he was left clencing several times, empty after being so full. The rest of the night was more cuddly than erotic, even if it left him invested in trying it for real.



The most mysterious and impressive part of dressing up wasn't necessarily seeing himself in the whole outfit That was nice, yes, but it was the makeup that blew back his ears. Cosmetics, plus his hair teased for that 40s-like glamour, left the feeling someone else regarded hm in the mirror. It wasn't too much either--ruby lipstick naturally, some eye shadow, but pencils or little bristles right up next to his eyes was too much for comfort, no matter Amy's reassurances. Jonah had also avoided heels--his ass didn't need it, but mainly because walking in them was dubbed "hard mode". Still the entire package was scrumptious. Regardless of the butterfly tempest in his stomach, he was elated. "I look awesome."

Even before the party, they had to share pics of their efforts with the internet. Amy's cosplay hit her social media and fan groups with more enthusiasm and good humor, with notes on how "tall the grass has gotten" and goodnaturedly revving up the fake-argument over #notopknot. TThere wasn't much of a fandom for Silvertail, just people who liked the books who hadn't quite organized, leaving Jonah with only a few comments on his social media, most more curious than impressed but fortunately nothing mean.

Amy carried the treats while a backup container sat in the car. What to bring was a challenge, as the invitation said no catering will be present (but alcohol is covered, thanks). Dip was likely too dangerous for a house full of costumes. Chips or cookies from a bakery felt low effort. Malia's parties were not the "hang out and watch a movie" or "play pictionary" so much as a murder mystery among the party goers or, like her last event where everyone got a card and the first to find all the suits of the same card won--no one was sure what "winning" would be, embarrassing or wonderful, but it turned out to be a spa day gift certificate. So Amy and Jonah opted for cake pops. The trick was figuring out how many to make, since how many would show was up in the air, and they ended up making two batches just in case. Jonah handled the first batch while Amy ran for emergency butter. The jackal liked cooking, but loathed cleaning.

Already a dozen-plus guests milled around Malia's patio and living room, everyone in costume so far. Sydney was a vintage Doctor When--no surprise there. The excellent Jagged Man costume was made less impactful given that Charlie had worn it the last two Halloweens. Someone playing on their phone was a perfect Nightingale, down to the properly coifed eartufts. "Hey Amy!" "Don't feed me to the gators!" "Who's the lady with you?" The latter, exaggeratedly hungry, nonetheless left Jonah putting off a furnace's blush, but he didn't falter. Seeing one of Amy's friends coming there way, he took the cake pops. "I'll drop these off and get you something to drink." It was very likely Malia had an actual bartender for the evening.
 
Amy's biggest regret was not being able to get Jonah to sit still to either give him mascara or, better, false-lashes. The look was almost perfect, and the jackal had naturally long lashes that were just a touch too pale and transparent that would've really popped if she could've gotten him to stop blinking for five seconds. But overall she was extremely pleased with the look, if a little surprised at how well he pulled it off. Feminine clothes now and then, but seeing the whole ensemble together?

Well, wearing a pile of stapled-together bath-mats wasn't the only reason the cheetah was left panting. (Though it was, by far, the primary one. Gods, this thing was warm!)

After pictures had been taken and posted, and some last-minute musing about the wisdom of wearing a walking sauna in the mist of summer, they loaded up with their sugary-sweet haul and headed off to Malia's. Jonah was driving, as only his costume granted him the necessary freedom-of-movement while Amy carefully cuddled two containers of cake pops lest they go flying. The trip was short and uneventful, and the car dutifully parked itself in a narrow sliver of curbside space after they'd gotten close enough for the cameras and AI to work things out.

Thankfully, despite the summer heat and humidity Malia's house was pleasantly cool and dry inside, the aircon no doubt turned up to max to accommodate so many warm bodies. The electric bill wouldn't be pretty but Amy was thankful for the climate all the same, none-too-subtly meandering over to stand atop one of the floor-based vents once they'd made their way inside. Shuffling the cake-pops to one arm she waved with her other paw at the familiar faces she saw and grinned as the complements came in. At the last, aimed very much at her husband, she turned to take in his response.

Blushing beneath his fur, visible at the eartips and towards his snout, but not upset. That was good, she hoped. She grinned at him and put her free arm over his shoulder, then blinked when he chose to take the cakepops from her rather than continue with her towards the kitchen.

Following his line-of-sight she sighted Sara approaching. The rabbit would want to talk extensively, and Amy didn't blame Jonah for making a quick exit. She'd gladly listen to her friend's wall-of-words if it meant she could continue standing over the aircon vent a little longer, and a cool drink from the kitchen would also help. Taking a half-step back to where she'd been she waved at Sara and Jonah could hear the two of them fall into familiar discussion of life and work as he squeezed around an oblivious couple chit-chatting just before the threshold to the kitchen.

Malia's kitchen was as expansive as any other room in the extroverted badger's house, with a wrap-around counter that partitioned the prep area from the dining area, two ovens, an extra-large dish washer and refrigerator and a restaurant-quality six-burner stove and an industrial microwave mounted into the cabinetry. True to Jonah's expectations there was a bartender, who had partitioned off the interior of the three-sides-of-a-square the counter formed as their work-space. A bowl of alcoholic punch was set out on the dining table as well, plus an array of treats brought by the various guests of the party laid out with different levels of presentation from "cookies on a paper plate" to "hand-decorated petit fours". Jonah and Amy's cake pops were in the upper third of the scale, and there was room for them next to some deviled eggs.

While the living room was hardwood-and-rugs the kitchen and dining area was tile, amplifying the steady click, click, click of someone approaching in dangerously high heels.

"And here I was, thinkin' all detectives were gruff and rugged fellas'," quoted a quiet baritone from above and behind him. The opening remark of the latest Silvertail novel was easy to recognize, though possibly not what Jonah expected to hear from a guest of one of Malia's parties. It wasn't that the socialite's friends weren't avid readers, too, but the fandom just wasn't large enough that any of her guests were likely members. At least out of the friends Jonah had met before, nobody was familiar with the works. But the voice that addressed him wasn't familiar, either.

"So tell me, what's a good lookin' jackal like you doing in a run-down place like this?" This line was a more common hook for Silvertail, muttered by many an antagonist just before something exciting happened.

He'd come around the back of the table, towering more than a foot over Jonah's head in sparkling red heels, coming to stop with both silk-gloved paws resting on the table and his butt against the edge, back slightly arched and head tilted back to emphasize the lean lines of his long body and the svelte fit of the glittering red dress with a plunging neckline and a slit up one side that came up to his thigh. His natural mane, teased and styled, helped fill out the revealing dress's cups, though in a nod to practicality transparent spaghetti straps had been added to the otherwise strapless piece to help hold everything in-place. But even if his chest was a little lacking, he certainly had the waist and hips to pull the look off, and his long long legs balanced in those glittering heels like he'd been born with them.

"Cat got your tongue?" He asked, finally turning from his profile silhouette to really look at Jonah as he gave up on quoting. Unlike the jackal he'd gone for a full face of make-up, false lashes and heavy liner adding an additional feminine touch to his already somewhat androgynous face, while blush and shadow and dark red lip-paint and long dark hair waxed a dark red and carefully coiffed helped sell the sexed-up Jennifer Hare look. He licked his painted muzzle and flicked an ear at the jackal, giving his best bedroom eyes.
 
"Cheetahs were meant for a dry heat" was an oft-uttered phrase among Amy's family, in general questioning whose idea down the line it was to move somewhere with humidity. Granted so were jackals and Jonah didn't enjoy the sticky weather either, but he'd moved here for work. Good thing she was a cheetah--some poor arctic fox attempting this would likely give herself heat stroke.

For just a moment Jonah marveled at the hostess's kitchen, coveting all that glorious counter space. Their own kitchen, with lovely granite countertops and the wonder that was a garbage disposal, lacked real elbow room. He stopped gawking and opened the cake pop container, making sure to put the lid under the container so that it didn't get misplaced and then swallowed by the house, and set them up by the delived eggs and...were those dumplings or pastries? Jonah chewed. Dumplings it was then.

From the bartender he requested one of Amy's usuals, while getting himself a pina colada, in the mood for something exotic. Never liking the taste of alcohol, Jonah always went with frilly mixed drinks and liqueurs, hard ciders and the like. The mouse in uniform gave a nod and went about the order with quick precision.

It was there the heeled speaker caught him, the quote turning his ears back before his head followed suit. While the quote had come unexpected, he was answering with the character's usual line. "Keeping my no...se...clean..." The simple statement stumbled when he caught sight of the man behind him. The jackal's mouth hung a little open before closing like a trap. It was hypnotic looking at those legs. They almost seemed unnatural, and your eyes juts wanted to make them fit the frame they went with, and that left him staring up and down and up and down, and then back to that face and hair and...

And now he'd been caught standing there staring, and this fey creature expected a response. To that last question, he answered, "No, she's in, uh--" Jonah meant to point in the living room's direction, but was turned wrong and wound up just indicating the fridge, so he slowly turned, lost in his orientation of the house.

Either intentionally coming to his rescue or having impeccable timing, the bartender said, "Your drinks." Jonah scooped them up without looking, without even noticing the mouse, just uttering a "Thank you", and tugged one up to his muzzle to use as any excuse to delay, taking a drink. And coughed in surprise. What he'd gotten was not a pull of coconut and pineapple.
 
Last edited:
Well that was quite the reaction. He raised a brow and gave Jonah an amused look as he waited for the other canid to remember how to breathe.

Then again, Dave would admit to himself he'd gone a little over-the-top with his costume. It had been a while since he'd lived somewhere with friends he'd felt comfortable cross-dressing around, though Malia's party was guaranteed to be a safe and friendly space where he could be his very-extra self. And he'd taken full advantage of the situation, false lashes and letting his hair down, and feeling further even emboldened by seeing another cross-player in the first hour! Now if only he could figure out why the jackal looked a little familiar.

"You alright there, Silvertail?" He asked, pushing off from the table and taking a few steps closer. Their difference in height became even more apparent the closer he strode, and boy did the maned wolf know how to swing those hips with every stride. "You look like you've lost your way." He leaned past Jonah to plant one paw on the counter and looked up at the bartender.

"Could you make another long island, darlin'? I'm feeling mighty thirsty." He'd dropped the Jennifer Hare affectation and the slightest hint of an accent colored his words. As the mouse obliged his request he took another step towards the counter, then twisted to put his back against hit and lean as he had against the table. Grinning down at Jonah he continued on in the prior voice, "so, did I hit the mark? Would you believe me if I told you, I'm not bad i'm just drawn that way?" He batted his lashes and looked hopeful. Then he offered a paw, though with both of Jonah's occupied he couldn't exactly shake, and put it back on the counter behind him. "I'm Dave, by the way."
 
While already intimidated, the height from those heels left Jonah even more overwhelmed. The only thing keeping it from triggering his instincts of a scary threat was just how excited the jackal was. Those hips, those eyes, that expression. Thankfully the full force of Dave's attention shifted off of himthe maned wolf less looming and more a tall drink of water, allowing Jonah to finally take a breath and shake off the impression of a deer in a spotlight.

"Sorry, I was...uh...surprised anyone recognized the costume." While it was true, even the dumpolings could tell that was a lame cover. He took a sip of the right drink this time. Calm down.

Jonah had an answer prepared, kind of. In the mirror he'd rehearsed a few lines, with the appropriate visual cues. While he hadn't anticipated this exact situation, it at least mercifully gave him something to fall back on. Already looking up at Dave, he dipped his muzzle down and emphasized those eyes big and wide, peering up soulfully. "I don't know anything about that. I'm a good girl." Just a little earnestness and a hint of BS underneath. Silvertail had been trying to clean up her act, to fade into the background of normalcy, but life just kept dragging her back into intrigue and temptation.

It was the offer to shake that reminded him he held two cups. "Nice meeting you. I'm Jonah. And I need to...deliver these," he added, lifting them up. And with that he left as quickly as he could.

Which was not really that fast, what with trying to not spill two drinks and walking in a skirt with a rager of a hardon. The idea of an erection in this outfit had crossed his mind, but he hadn't worried about it, simply going with some tight underwear and leaving things up to the skills honed as a teen--you learn how to manage concealment when a stiff breeze can make you flag. But that was all about posture, angling it the right way, things not doable when walking. Rather than hunch forward like his back ached, he went with the tride and true tail-across-the-front. Better to look like he spilled something in his lap than he'd hurt something.

"Amy!" He barked her name nearly fifteen feet away, and quickly stepped up beside her. "Your drink!" Pressing the cup into his wife's fingers, he touched a cool nose against her ear and panted with urgency, "There's a really hot guy in the kitchen." The tone mirrored his eyes: the panic-excitement of I have no idea what to do, help.
 
Well that was as quick an exit as Dave had ever seen anyone make, and the sudden defensive curl of the jackal's tail around his front made him even more worried he'd misstepped. He'd just been having some playful fun! He looked over at the bartender with a sheepish expression, though the mouse's own look was unreadable as he presented the maned wolf with a long island.

Why does the name Jonah sound so familiar...

He took the drink in one silk-clad paw, returned to resting against the counter-top, and took a long sip. Finally, he turned back to the mouse and in his best Jennifer Hare voice said:

"You don't know how hard it is being a wolf looking the way I do."

---

Amy's ears perked at the sound of her name, and her tail thumped against the inside of her cloak as it tried to stand up straight. Was something wrong? But Jonah looked alright; it was easy enough to spot him coming over over the rest of the small crowd.

Sara had stopped talking when she saw Amy's distraction and looked over as well. The plump mink was short enough that she had to look up at Jonah, and had been half-craning her neck to keep her conversation up with the cheetah. She smiled and waved at the jackal as he came up and practically shoved a cup into Amy's waiting hand, recognizing him as Amy's husband from the picture she'd shared on her social media earlier that afternoon.

"Jonah, you look so cute!" She squealed, though her complement fell on mostly deaf ears. Amy's attention was entirely on Jonah, and she crouched slightly as he brought his muzzle up to whisper to her.

A heartbeat later Amy turned back to Sara and smiled, though clearly the cheetah was a little distracted. "He does, doesn't he... er, can we continue our conversation in a moment?"

"Oh, yeah, I kinda' need to hit the restroom, I'll be back in a few!" Sara agreed without complaint, and headed to the stairs.

Amy looked down at Jonah and realized for the first time he had his tail wrapped 'round his front. Well that was an interesting sign, and gave new meaning to his description of really hot. But who the hell could he be talking about? Amy didn't know everyone in Malia's social circle by name, but she knew most of the faces. A few likely candidates came up, but they were all as familiar to Jonah as they were to her, so why all the fluster and vagueness?

"Well, did you introduce yourself?" She finally asked, adjusting her cloak as she did so she could hug a comforting arm around his waist. Or maybe it was to prevent him from running away as she leaned in to whisper, far more suggestively, "is he the reason you're walking around at half-mast?"

---

The he that Jonah and Amy were discussing in hushed tones chose that moment to pop his head out from the kitchen. He meant to go apologize - he had come on a little strong there, he supposed - but when he caught sight of Jonah-nee-Silvertail it was his turn to look like a deer-in-the-spotlight.

Oh shit Amy is going to kill me!

Dave, unlike Sara, hadn't checked social media before heading out for the party from the extended-stay hotel he was currently calling "home" while the stuff he called Home made it's way across the country. Neither Amy nor any of the rest of his friends from college who he knew would be at Malia's party, besides Malia himself of course, even knew he was in town yet. He'd made a post on his own social media about a month ago remarking on his "grand move" from the southwest back up to the northeast, but even he himself hadn't thought he'd be arriving for another week. But the cruise he was supposed to be on had gotten cut short by a bad norovirus outbreak, and while the travel company was wiling to change the date of his connecting flight in deference to the problem they hadn't been willing to change the destination.

Some frantic thrift-store shopping and Malia's help had gotten him the outfit and the makeup, and a trip to the drugstore had filled in the gaps. Anyone who knew him - and plenty of folks like Amy and Sara and Tim (who hadn't arrived yet) - would recognize him despite (or because of) the getup; he'd been even more flamboyant in his college days. He'd come in through the patio rather than the front door with the intent of ambushing unsuspecting friends but had captured poor Jonah in his trap instead, and Amy was not going to be happy that he'd sent the poor jackal running!

Well, sulking in the kitchen wouldn't do him any more good. He pulled the rest of his body 'round the archway and headed off towards one soon-to-be-irate, he was sure, cheetah, and a jackal who he hoped wouldn't run away a second time.

---

Amy only had to turn her head slightly to resolve the smear of sparkling red in the corner of her eye into the long and leggy shape of a familiar college friend. It took her brain another few moments to catch up and realize exactly who she was looking at, because her brain stubbornly asserted that Dave was still across the country and wouldn't be here for another week.

But then her thoughts caught up with her eyes, and suddenly everything clicked.

She glanced down at Jonah, just to be sure, then back up at an apologetic-looking Dave who'd winced when the cheetah looked away. Clearly he thought he'd scared Jonah off... which was, she would admit, entirely possible. Dave could be a bit much at times, and given how he was dressed she was sure he'd turned the heat up to eleven today.

"Dave!" She greeted, reaching out with her other paw to grab him across the shoulders and pull him down into a hug. "You sneaky, sneaky wolf, telling everyone you wouldn't be in town for another week!" That cheerful greeting seemed to knock the wolf out of whatever mood he'd been in, and he grinned crookedly back at her when she finally let him up. "This is my husband, Jonah," she added, gesturing at the jackal.

"I, uh, yeah we met." Dave replied, without any of his earlier bravado. But he regained his confidence quickly as he went on. "I was asking him what he thought of my getup, I didn't realize I was holding him back from bringing you your drink otherwise I would've escorted him myself!" He asserted with a wink towards Jonah.

"Well I think it's amazing, and you're still better in heels than I'll ever be." Amy replied with a laugh, then glanced at Jonah. "So, what do you think of his outfit, dear?"
 
"Oh thank you," he said to Sara without really turning to her. Normally he wouldn't stiff her--despite having to fight to get a word in edgewise, Amy's friend was sweet-and-endearingly-oblivious--but his attention was on Amy, on the hope that she would protect him from the vivid maned wolf--or facilitate more. So when she all but said "and?", he swallowed the urge to whine.

And then like some sparkly ghost, the tall tasty treat was behind him again. This time though Jonah had the cheetah's arm around him like an anchor, and he took a deep breath through his nose. Then another. This was no different than being around a highly attractive girl. No different. Except women didn't flirt at him like that.

Then Amy was pulling the other guy in close.

Wait what? That's the fabled Dave? Finally turning his head to try and stare through the caricature at the man beneath. And here he'd bolted like a startled bird. He couldn't give such a poor impression to Amy's BBF, especially now that Dave was here. The idea that he was being rude, or at least putting the other man off gave the jackal a needed slap.

Turning his head up to meet those heavily mascara'd eyes, he smiled shyly. "You own that look. Really. And I can tell you practiced the voice and...given what she's told me about you, I shouldn't be surprised." Making an effort to sound friendly and warm, Jonah couldn't keep a little bit of admiring heat out of his expression. Putting on a welcoming show meant his tail sweeping back to a more neutral position--which also for several long moments exposed the partial excitement pressing against his skirt. At least his ears weren't still flushed. "Although you'd probably need some balloons to fill the dress out accurately."
 
Dave caught the change in Jonah's demeanor as Amy introduced them, and he realized that the jackal had been just as confused as he was. Both of them, apparently, had been confused by the other's cross-dressing. And the maned wolf would readily admit that Amy's husband looked like a delicious snack as he was, though he certainly wasn't going to say that now! While he'd never had any qualms about flirting with and hitting on anything that walked upright, he had learned that some men and women took offense to too much flirting with their partner. And while Amy wasn't the jealous type, he did not want to give the cheetah any difficulty in keeping both her husband and him in the same room in the future.

Too bad, though. His ass looked fantastic in that skirt, and--

He caught his thoughts wandering and pulled them back on-track with force, licking his muzzle again without thinking about it.

"So I hear my reputation proceeds me! Amy, what terrible things have you been telling your partner about me?" He asked with feigned offense.

"Just a few college stories. Don't worry, I didn't tell him about the goldfish." Amy replied with a knowing look that made the wolf swallow nervously. True to her word Jonah hadn't every heard any stories featuring a goldfish from her, though she'd told him plenty other tales from her younger and stupider years.

She and Dave had been close friends through college, though nothing she'd ever said implied either of them had an interest in anything more than friendship with one-another. Dave was far too energetic and, at times, nervous, to be Amy's type, while Dave's own preferences ran towards the male and the canid. But they'd gotten along like a house on fire and that had lead to a great deal of what Amy would summarize as "shenanigans", including crashing more than a few parties by having Dave cross-dress and the two of them appear as two unattached women.

Dave looked back to Jonah, hoping he wouldn't press the point about the goldfish as he went on. "Well, anyway, balloons would give you entirely the wrong shape. When you're a broke college kid trying to put together a convincing ensemble what you want are water-filled condoms. They get the proper jiggle." He pressed the empty cups of his dress up and together over his mane and shook his torso slightly for emphasis. "I have something better made of silicone these days but it's still a few days away on a truck with the rest of my stuff." He added wistfully.

"So, as a professional-level hobbyist, how'd we do?" Amy asked, drawing Dave's attention only to direct it back at Jonah. She spread both paws as if she was presenting a work of art to the wolf.

Of course, that direct invitation to ogle was too good an invitation to pass up, and Dave made a show of looking the jackal up-and-down consideringly. "Oh, I think you two did a fine job here. He looks good enough to eat," he purred, the last escaping from him before he remembered that just moments ago he'd sworn to not hit on the jackal any more. But a quick glance out the corner of his eye suggested Amy didn't look displeased.

"Dave!" Sara's excited squeal carried across the room, and moments later a miniature mustelid missile bounded into the wolf's side, wrapping short but powerful arms around him. "Holy shit what are you doing here? I thought you didn't get here for another week! Amy, why didn't you tell me?" She asked, throwing an accusatory glance at the cheetah.

"I found out literally two minutes ago," Amy remarked in her defense, putting both paws up. "He was hiding in the kitchen, like one of those fookin' cunts from the easterlands!" She dropped momentarily into the rough accent of Jennah Grass and hitched her shoulders to make her cloak bounce. Sara giggled, Dave laughed, and then the latter spread both paws in a conciliatory gesture.

"I'll talk, I'll talk, no need for the gators!" And then he began to explain the unfortunate set of circumstances which had led him to arrive a week early, including his foreshortened cruise and the trouble with the airlines after.
 
"Don't worry. It's not like there's any gazpacho here." Jonah brought up one of Amy's more self-depricating stories of her own embarrassments. He could tease too.

But knowing this was Dave also brought to mind that the maned wolf wasn't just gorgeous but quite gay. This left Jonah's tail not sure if it wanted to be up or down, and his skirt was even more uncomfortable. At least now he could practice a little bit of that concealment, tilting his hips and leaning subtly forward, putting one thigh in front of the other to break the flat plane of his front. The mention of silicone cups raised Jonah's brows and swiveled his ears. How invested was the other canid in it? Passing to get into a party was one thing, but was he trying to genuinely pass? As far as the jackal knew, Dave was still male identified.

That contemplation and scrutiny left him so open when Amy dragged him back into the spotlight. All he could do was smile again, a warm flush creeping up his ears under the hungry gaze, and the playful insinuation of the maned wolf's teeth all over him had Jonah squirming in his stockings. This was a flashback to junior high all over again, an awkward Jonah paralyzed in the presence of anything remotely feminine.

Rarely was he more thankful for Sara and her exuberance to crash a conversation. Blissful breathing room. It gave him a needed bit of space to remember how he'd dealt with that crippling uncertainty, and what had helped him going forward: ignore how attractive someone is. Act like it doesn't matter. Because she wasn't likely going to go out with him anyhow. While his dad had a few things to say about marriage, he only had one nugget on romance: "If you look at everyone like a potential date, they'll see you as someone after a date. Be a friend--and not one just waiting around for it to turn into something. Still, friends can become more, or friends know other singles and can pair you up. You'll find someone, but it'll go a lot smoother if you just let it happen."

Learning to be a friend without angling for more took a little longer to sink in, but Jonah could definitively say that his life was better with having female friends. Among other things, it meant in a relationship with a girl, he could hang out with her like anyone else, and get along with her social circle without being the odd wheel.

Thus he made the immense effort to ignore the pulse rushing through him and the excitement and the butterflies. So what if the maned wolf was pretty and stirred desires, nothing was going to happen. Instead of looking at Dave, Jonah listened. Hell, he even wanted to ask about cruises--an idea Amy had about a vacation--but the stories of dysentery were outputting.

At some point Charlie in his spooky costume wandered over, clearly having seen Dave at a flattering angle and not realized the mane wolf was a girl until he started listening. The gazelle's expression fell but he remained, then broke in on a brief anecdote about the horrors of shady moving companies.

"Something's missing," Jonah finally said. "Usually Malia has some sort of game or 'event' planned for these things, but so far I haven't heard anything."
 
As far as Dave knew he was still male-identifying as well, but that didn't mean he didn't like to have some fun with it sometimes. His dabbling in drag in college years had turned into a full-on hobby in the years after, and a fitted-and-dyed chest piece had proven surprisingly affordable once he'd gone looking. And not closing himself off from the, in his opinion, far sexier set of costuming options for parties and conventions was definitely a plus. Females in fiction got to be sexy in very different ways than males did.

Something he'd said had given Jonah pause, but Dave wasn't given a chance to consider further as Sara stole the show.

Standing next to Dave the mink looked comically short, not even coming up to his shoulder in her short go-go boots and space-age mini-dress identifying her as a crew member from the original Space Walk series. And that was with the beehive hair-style giving her several more inches of "height"! But that hadn't stopped her from dragging the wolf halfway down to the ground in her exuberance, before finally letting him up so he could explain himself.

A gazelle he didn't recognize wandered over as well, one of Malia's local friends he assumed. There was another of those pauses, different than Jonah's and a little more disappointed by his measure. That bit was familiar enough to Dave, and when he was done speaking he flashed Charlie an apologetic smile. His attention returned to the jackal though as he seized on the lull in conversation to give voice to the same concern that had been nagging at him while he'd lurked in the kitchen.

"Malia's missing," Amy clarified, gesturing at the room and the sliding doors through which the deck was exposed. "Anyone seen her, yet?"

Dave shook his head, as did Sara, and then Charlie, too. That was odd given the badger's usual desire for attention, though Amy didn't consider it out-of-the-question that she was playing some sort of game whose set-up involved her absence. Or maybe her costume was proving troublesome?

"She was being real secretive about where she'd be when I was schemin' with her about my entrance." Dave admitted, clicking the blunt claws of his paws against one-another as he pondered.

"How much do you want to bet we're already playing whatever game she has for the evening?" Sara asked the collective, quirking one bushy brow.
 
"I like your costume," Jonah whispered to Sara in a moment's distraction. "Set masers to stunning." Had the mink went with chrome-and-silver, she could've possibly been a pulpy Star Amazon, but the Space Walk dress wasn't reflective, instead color coded to her crew placement, and she didn't have a "ray gun". But certainly the rack for it.

"Maybe that has something to do with it." Charlie pointed a knife-y finger at the coffee table. Next to the entertainment remote was a little sign reading "You Need Music". Either that hadn't been there ten minutes ago, or everyone had simply ignored it until now. The lack of music was odd.

Several of them wandered over to the table and inspected the remote, which was far, far needlessly complicated. But the two buttons had helpful little stickers on them, with a 1 and a 2. Jonah, shrugging, pressed the 1 and the stereo lit up with a chirp and a swirl of lights. Number 2 brought the speakers on with a slight crackle-pop of either a record player or old timey radi- an announcer in old fashioned radio talk announced, "Listeners, be wary! The Sexy Aliens have landed and are spreading, fast! Their pheromones are turning everyone into lusty feral lunatics."

"Oh no. This is from that musical."

A second voice came on behind it, more recognizable as Malia, mimicking the same 30s voice-over. "The only way to protect yourselves is to get underground. Find a bomb shelter, a mine shaft, a root cellar or your own basement. Hurry before you too are overtaken by the extra-terrestrial orgy."

Then the first notes of "Aroused Alien Advance" from The Rocky Sci-Fi Picture Show started up.

Sara covered her face and laughed at the same time.

Charlie coughed. "No matter what, I am not singing."

"So we're looking for the basement door, I guess?" Jonah pursed his lips. "Anyone know where that is?"

Syndey piped up from across the room, "I think it's in the kitchen!" And sure enough, there was a door in the kitchen, with a big combination lock on it. Something else had changed as well; the bartender was wearing green deely boppers, yet somehow managing to maintain professional nonchalance. Then in in a tone that reeked of 'I am contractually obligated to do this' read from a notecard. "I have become a lust zombie and cannot aid you. Except with alcohol."
 
"Awww, thanks!" Sara squeaked in reply to Jonah while Charlie inspected the remote. The smile that split her muzzle was like a ray of sudden sunshine.

Amy was distracted by the inspection of the table, squinting at it from her stubborn spot atop the aircon vent. She remained where she was while others inspected it further, trying to lean forwards without really moving in a vain attempt to get better involved. Dave gave her an odd look, and she gestured down to where her cloak almost made a full circle around her boot-enclad feet, puffed out slightly from the positive pressure of the vent.

"It's a mite bit warmer than the western swamps here," she added, earning an understanding chuckle from her friend.

A swirl of lights and a sudden crackle of sound drew both cat and wolf's attention as Jonah activated the afternoon's entertainment. Amy groaned while Dave cackled in glee; both friends held vastly different opinions on The Rocky Sci-Fi Picture Show and just how many times it needed to be screened on a weekly basis. And the latter now suddenly understood why Malia had gently encouraged him away from his original idea of a last-minute Prof. Rind-S-Wurst. (Though he idly wondered whether he would've gotten the same rise out of that adorable jackal in the corset and fishnet...)

Dave followed the collective into the kitchen, eyeing the poor mouse and failing to keep his composure as he delivered his lines. "And aid me you shall, good barkeep! I'll have another long island, please," he requested as he elegantly sashayed into the kitchen, leaving the other party-goers to work on the extra-terrestrial-orgy situation. That included Sara, who took one glance at the combination lock and immediately started ransacking every cabinet in reach (which wasn't too many, given her height), looking for clues.

With a new drink in-hand (though he didn't remember finishing the first one; maybe he'd set it down and lost it?), Dave made his way back to the living room. Though other party-goers had returned, conducting searches of their surroundings in a far more civilized fashion than Sara, they were still in relative privacy over by the aircon vent. With everyone's attention otherwise focused elsewhere, the tall and sparkly man leaned in to speak quietly to his friend.

"I, uh, didn't recognize Jonah earlier and I'm realizing I might've, uh, scared him a little. I just sort of assumed he was some local friend of Malia's, and, erm--" He lapsed into silence as he realized he wasn't sure what he meant to say next. Maybe he should've been apologizing to Jonah, but he knew Amy and suspected she'd be the far more displeased of the two. After all, Jonah didn't know him, that was the crux of his mistake.

"Dave." Amy started, looking (slightly) up at the embarrassed wolf, expression flat. "Were you hitting on my husband?"

Dave had the good sense to look terrified. Amy could be downright terrifying when she wanted to be, the effect that much stronger for how sweet and easy-going she otherwise was. Despite having several inches of height on her he seemed to shrink to below her gaze, ears going flat against his skull as his tail tucked involuntarily between those long, long legs.

But the angry hiss or thunderous glare never came. Instead Amy laughed, and clapped a paw to Dave's shoulder.

"Oh my god you should've seen your face. I know you can come on a little strong, and Jonah can be easily flustered sometimes, I wouldn't worry about it at all." And then her smile grew devious as she leaned in to whisper in the wolf's ear. "In fact, if you're interested in continuing..."

Now it was Dave's turn to look scandalized, though the paw pressed to his heaving bosom and fluttering eyelashes was perhaps a bit over-the-top. "A good girl like me? Why, I'd never..!" He glanced back towards the ongoing hunt through the living room, but Jonah wasn't in earshot. Still, he stepped a little closer to be sure. "Do you want to see your darlin' blush a little harder?"

"As I said. Only if you're interested." Amy replied with additional emphasis.

That left Dave blinking as he worked through what the cheetah meant. Surely she couldn't mean-- but his thoughts were interrupted by an insistent Sara grabbing his wrist and dragging him towards the kitchen.

"Don't mind me, just need to borrow some tall!" She told Amy before marching off with Dave. It wasn't as if the wolf had a choice - when Sara wanted to go somewhere you went, or at least, the body part she had a hold of did!
 
Last edited:
Before the moues started mixing the drink, he put out a bowl with fobs in front of Dave. "Keys please." The only thing Malia took more seriously than the "play along" rule was no driving intoxicated. She knew whose cars were fully automated and whose weren't. Space upstairs was set aside for anyone looking to sleep it off. For sleep only, a thing that needed to be spelled out after the infamous New Years Eve party involving a pair of rabbit brothers and a too-tipsy Sydney.

Then Dave was back in the kitchen, although this time for non-refreshment purposes. Sure enough, those long limbs proved useful because on top of the fridge was a piece of paper. Sara excitedly read it. "'Among the bodice ripping of Love's Rage, Chapter One is found on what page?' Books! Where's her books?" The procession led into another room, and the not-so-invested could hear Jonah say, "Is this the first number of the combination, because this is chapter one?"

The next twenty or so minutes went like that. A clue dug out from between the couch cushions leading behind the bathroom mirror, and a final one under the patio table led to the bottom of a bowl of grapes.

Finally the lock popped, and everyone filed downstairs into the dark. At least, briefly dark, before the lights revved up, exposing a small stage, with a backlit badger in Full Prof. Rind-S-Wurst post-transformation, corset, stockings and posable tentacles alike. The music started up. "The karaoke mothership has finally landed, my little fleshpuppets. Line up to sing if you want. After you have beheld..." The first lyrics of "Sextra-Terrestrial Transvestite" started going. While not the best singer, Malia did know spectacle, and had clearly rehearsed the moves if not the vocals.

Afterwards she handed the mic to the Nightengale-dressed feline, who so far had been mysteriously quiet and unnamed, who was skimming boy band titles. "Took you all long enough, I was down here in the dark, alone, so long. Everyone having a good time? Jonah! I don't know who you're supposed to be but you look so good I won't ask for refences. You and Dave need to double on something. And--oof." Malia gave the hugging Sara a one-armed squeeze, while using the other to turn a tentacle enough, tickling the mink's forehead, which earned an amused 'ack'. "Amy, I sense you're melting in that. It is cooler down here but let's get you something with ice."

With Malia the social whirlwind unleashed, Jonah drifted to the outskirts, listening. He eyed the karaoke stage contemplatively. What songs did he know well enough to pull off?
 
Dave had only raised both paws and shrugged at the barkeep. "I took a cab." He knew better than to plan on driving home from one of Malia's parties, and his car would be arriving along with the rest of his things in a week.

When he returned to the kitchen again, in Sara's grasp, he noted that at least one fob had ended up in the bowl. Then his attention was drawn upwards to where the mink was pointing, and lo and behold there was something up there, a slip he could just see the edge of. He'd barely gotten it down when it was seized from him, and so the game continued...

Amy was beginning to get a little bored, and with a cool drink at-hand she was feeling a little less overheated then when they'd arrived. But the crowd was moving fast and energetically enough that she was hesitant to enter the fray. Instead she turned her thoughts inward, pondering Jonah's response to Dave... and Dave's response to Jonah.

Was there something there worth pushing on? She knew each of them well enough and long enough to recognize that spark of interest each had shown for the other. If anything, the odd cat out was her. Dave was, as far as she knew, gay as the day was long. Jonah clearly wasn't, though her read of the situation was that he'd prefer something where she took a more back-seat role while whatever third they found ran the show. Which was entirely fine by her, she supposed. It wasn't as if the cheetah felt any jealousy over the idea. But that didn't mean she wanted to be absent, and she had no idea how her friend would react to a proposal that put her squarely in-the-room, nor how Jonah would feel about getting fucked by a friend of his wife's from a time before they'd known each other, while said wife looked on.

Well, you could always try talking to them.

Eventually she did make her way over to a couch, sitting down with care as to not crush her cloak. A quiet rustle of paper drew her attention, leading Amy to pull out one of the numerous clues Malia had hidden about her expansive home. Sara took it from her just as quickly, but with an excited squeak and a smile so wide she couldn't really be mad at the mink. And Amy was content to watch the chaos unfold around her, rather than be at the center of it, anyway.

Soon enough the last clue was revealed and the whole group encouraged to head down towards the basement, Amy joining other stragglers who'd been hanging out on the patio or in the foyer rather than assist in the hunt. With a bulker costume than some she brought up the rear, pupils widening to reflective pools in the dark. Dave was towards the front, though he did have to take the stairs carefully on account of his costume. Jonah had made a better choice than him in at least one way, wearing such sensible flats!

Many pairs of shining eyes narrowed their pupils to sudden slits with pained hisses as the room suddenly lit up, revealing Malia and her costume and scene. Dave was among those blinded, and he blinked away spots of color as Malia delivered her monologue. Automatically he followed up with the call-backs to Sextra-Terrestrial Transvestite, though quietly, as he finished making his way down the steps and into the miniature discotheque.

"A duet, you say?" he asked with a grin as a friend of Malia's he didn't recognized finished making her selection and looked to hand the binder off. The wolf cheerfully relieved her of it and began his own perusal of the titles, moving to lean against a support beam in a pose that was as much for the purpose of the audience as to take some stress off his feet.

Amy was the last down the stairs, having just finished her drink and already feeling the heat catching up with her. But the basement was cooler, for now at least, and with her cloak open she didn't feel quite as overwhelmed as she had upstairs. Maybe she would just take it off entirely, gators be damned.

"This is quite the spectacle!" The cheetah declared when Malia finally made her way over, wrapping an arm around the shorter badger to pull her into a side-hug that didn't risk crushing a tentacle. "First Dave, now this, do you have any other surprises you're hiding from us?" Her question was meant as rhetoric, and she didn't press her friend for an answer as she moved on to engage with other party-goers. Everyone had to be greeted, of course, and Amy knew they'd get a chance to chat later. She instead scanned the crowd for her husband, whose name she'd heard come up at the beginning of Malia's spiel, and found him drifting on the outskirts.

"Well, Sara is going to pick King's Idiosyncratic Melody, and Charlie's probably going to pick something by Fugacity, hm... what were you thinking of? Better pick soon because," she looked up and over at the sound of clicking heels, "I think Dave will choose for you otherwise."

"You familiar with Darlin' it's Cold Out There?" Having foisted the binder on Sara (though he was as confident as Amy was in what the mink's choice would be) he approached with one arm free to slide over the jackal's shoulders. The other held his second drink, which he nursed far more slowly than the first. "I mean, Samantha Smith would totally fit the part perfectly, flirting-but-not-ready-to-admit-she-wants-it, don't you agree?" He turned briefly to Amy, who nodded with a grin.

"You can always drop it an octave if you're not feeling the falsetto," the cheetah added in encouragement, before Jonah could say no. Giving her best kitty-cat eyes, she added a quiet but drawn-out "puh-leeeeeeeeeeeeease?"
 
Last edited:
"If I did I wouldn't tell youuu," Malia sing-songed. "But since I don't, I'll admit my sleeves are empty of cards." She made a show of presenting her lack of sleeves even. Then she was off, Sydney now caught up in her attentions.

It was Jonah's turn to be captured. "Wait, I have to?" he mimed his horror, which was a poor imitation to the anxiety he was showing earlier. Making a fool of himself was all well and good when everyone was in on it, and everyone was giving it a go, bad or no. Then Dave was there, and the jackal was then caught in the middle. Warm wolf and warmer cheetah sandwiching him, and his ears naturally began to pinken. "Holiday songs already? Isn't it um, early for those?"

A lousy argument, because he was gonna do it, even before the big cat eyes came out. To disarm Amy's gaze, he gave her nose a kiss, and then an exaggerated sigh up at Dave. "Alright. Let's do this. Just um, physically claustrophobic as the lyrics are, okay?"

Then conversation was then difficult as the poppy break-up song revved up. It was short and sweet and not bad. And then the two boys were up, looking for the second mic. "On the speaker!" The call from Malia at the stairs was a life-saver, and the pair took their places.

The song went on like a plan. Dave pursuing Jonah around the small stage, the jackal squirming around and out of grasp, sometimes just so he could get a better look at the lyrics screen. Dave was, of course, Dave. Jonah didn't have the wolf's chops's, but his problem was timing, sometimes tredding on the tail end of Dave's line, or pausing to just wait for his turn rather than keep the act going, or delayed just a little too much--which left him hurrying to finish the line, or Dave's next one being a little off. The sort of things that a rehearsal would've ironed out, but as it was live added to the humorous cat-and-mouse of the song, up until Jonah wrapped an arm around Dave's neck, molded to his side, and as the song dwindled, cooed into the mic, "I guess it's warm in here..."

"Woo!' Sara cheered, both pleased with the performance and excited to go next. Jonah peeled off Dave--without looking up at the wolf--and passed his mic before climbing down to join Amy again.

"There," Jonah said to her with a tired laugh, "Happy? Or would you rather have some of the cold out there?" He wanted to give her a hug, but not till the cloak came off! He peeked over his shoulder towards Dave. He'd been too caught up in focusing on the performance to pay attention to the wolf, and then after that little ad-libbed ending he'd gotten the hell outta there, but now he was curious if Dave would 'get him back' for it somehow.
 
Amy wasn't sure if her husband was embarrassed or feeling... something else, and looking down would've been a little too obvious. She lost her chance anyway when Jonah kissed her nose, which made her sniff and shake her head reflexively. At least both boys looked happy with the arrangement. Had Dave caught his flush?

One song later and the boys were on the move, leaving Amy to lash her tail beneath her cloak in intrigued anxiety as they searched for the second mic, then took the stage. But Dave carried the show with all the aplomb she expected from her college friend, hamming it up and looking ready to eat the jackal as he leaned into his lines and grinned at the crowd. By the end Jonah even seemed to get the hang of it, wrapping an arm up around Dave (and that did involve some contortion on the latter's part), letting them duet into their mics on the shared last line.

She was clapping before she even realized her paws had been moving, and grinning from ear-to-ear. The anxious thrashing of her tail had become a slow, sinuous wiggle of amusement and delight, and when her husband yielded over the mic to a bouncing Sara she reached out an arm to embrace his waist and pull him snug at the side. With the cloak on hugging would've been an awkward and overly-warm proposition.

"Oh, don't pretend like you didn't enjoy that." Amy teased, and it was her turn to kiss him, this time lightly just in front of the spot between his ears. "But I think we could both use something cold to drink." Her own beverage was gone, sucked down to ice cubed which were melting too slow to give her something cool to wet her tongue with to keep her from panting. "And I think I may want to ditch my cloak upstairs for a hot minute."

Dave hadn't followed, caught up in conversation with another party-goer who'd been impressed by his obvious skill in heels. But he did catch the jackal's gaze as he peeked over his wife's shoulder, and replied with a wink and a lick of his chops while his conversation partner was busy looking down at his shoes as he demonstrated his balance on one foot.

Though facing the wrong way to see, the cheetah had a strong suspicion of what had caused Jonah to pause again. Pulling him by the waist towards the stairs she added in an amused whisper, "come on, you can flirt more with him later."

When they'd made their way back to the kitchen she gave the mouse a smile and asked for a Molly Church (grenadine and lemon-lime soda with a candied cherry). One drink was enough for her, as a carnivore with all the ability to digest alcohol of a... well, of a cat. It wasn't even that she'd get particularly drunk, so much as sick, and with all the tasty treats in the kitchen she preferred to spend the finite carbohydrate capacity of her stomach on something a little more satisfying. Plus she wanted her head firmly on her shoulders should an opportunity present itself to give either of the boys a little nudge. She didn't expect for anything to actually happen at or after the party, but Amy knew the value of optimism and proactivity.

"Enjoying the party so far?" Amy asked when they'd both had their drinks, meandering towards the living room in search of a place to discard and leave her cloak for the time being. She'd gotten all the compliments she'd been looking for anyway, and while good cosplay came at a price heat exhaustion wasn't one she was willing to pay. "And the company...?" She added with a flicked ear and a half-grin, stirring her drink with her straw.
 
The open teasing Dave shot him left the jackal squirming again, especially because he was caught looking. Which was probably why, when Amy gave him a nudge, his "I wasn't flirting!" was squeakier and louder than necessary.

He opted for ice water. The exertion and excitement had him feeling hot and light headed. Not much a drinker already, he was still buzzed. Despite the light dinner they had before coming--you never know what food will be at a party--he started picking at the offerings, still chewing as they meandered into the living room. A few guests still remained upstairs, those uninterested in singing, or--like poor Amadi the fennec--had ears too sensitive for the loud music.

"Fun, it's fun. Hopefully now that you've gotten that heating pad off of you, we can get you to do more than just stand on a vent." Deflection, deflection. Because, looking over his shoulder, Jonah lowered his voice--an unnecessary act- -and said, "Does Dave do that with everyone, or is it cause he likes me?" The jackal's eyes were big, his ears forward and rosey, sounding every bit of a tween girl.

Then, looking at his wife, Jonah's brain jumped tracks and he studied her more intently. Thinking about someone else helped him think about his own actions. "How should I be...responding?" Not simply 'he makes me feel this way, what do I do about that' to one of 'How does Amy want me to act here?' Were Dave a woman, Jonah would have a stronger sense of how to act: not flirting back, and trying to find a nice way to get her to stop. Not simply to spare Amy seeing it, but even in general, he didn't want to create that kind of space with someone because of the mixed messages, the bad feelings, of just overall trouble that can come from being more than friendly. Best to nip it before it ever started.

This though was so very different. Not only because of the Discussions they've had on the topic, but it was Dave, one of her closest friends. Yet he got the sense Amy was angling for something. She'd been far too chipper and amused, a discouragement wasn't on the horizon. Then what was she thinking here? Did she know this was just Dave being playful, or was there more?
 
The cheetah couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, and knew better than to subject others to her "yowling". But Amy recognized a deflection when she heard one, and swallowed her dry remark about her karaoke skills.

"Ah..." Dave had always been prone to flirt with anyone with a pulse that walked on two legs, but even if they hadn't had their little chat she would've known better. There was flirting, and there was hitting on, and the two of them had been involved in enough shenanigans (even if they hadn't been intimate shenanigans) for her to know which was which out of the wolf. Nor would he have apologized to her if he hadn't had some intent behind his words. Dave wasn't a home-wrecker.

"Honestly, that's only a question you can really answer." Amy finally declared after some thought. Her tail had gone still enough to indicate some sense of discomfort or anxiety, though not for the reasons Jonah likely feared. Fears she was quick to quash, "er, what I'm struggling with here is how much I should encourage you, because I don't want to push you towards something you don't want. But to try to read-between-the-lines of your question, I think he would be receptive and..." That flash of anxiety had disappeared, replaced by something akin to excitement. "I certainly wouldn't mind."

And Amy knew Dave wouldn't, either. The wolf had an ego fit for a lion, and he thoroughly enjoyed having it stroked. That metaphor, of course, brought all sorts of inappropriate images to her mind of what other kinds of stroking Jonah could do, and then it was her turn to feel her eartips redden. But more to the point, Dave knew that she and Jonah were married, so he couldn't get too wrong an idea of what any flirting back from the jackal meant. Especially not if she pulled him aside to explain a little more thoroughly.

"...nor should you feel like I'm putting you up to a decision here and now." She added after a contemplative pause.
 
A flash of a smile, both relieved and excited and demurely flushed. "Don't worry. It's not discomfort, I'm...tongue-tied around him is all. I'm not sure if I should try to come back as strong, or pretend to ignore it, or..." He waved in an 'I don't know' manner. He glanced towards the kitchen (and thus the basement).

All his efforts of 'seduction' had occurred slowly, after knowing them and getting a feel for how they were, then raising the temperature over time. Any sort of overt sexual banter had come afterwards. Nothing as bold as this.

Looking back to the cheetah he made eye contact, a grin climbing across his muzzle. "Or if I should wait till we've got him at home before turning up the heat. Because...he flips all the right switches," Jonah said with a pant. "And no, I don't want him to come over tonight. Soon though." Going from 'sure let's look for someone' to 'grab the lube' in a single day was a little too fast. (That is, when he stopped to think about it; had Amy and Dave dragged him into a closet an hour ago, the jackal would have probably melted in the best of ways.)

"That is...if you think he'd be into it?" After all, this could just be Dave being a tease. And even if he was into Jonah, the presence of Amy (either in the room, or it being her) might put him off the idea. Then the jackal's eyes narrowed in good-natured suspicion. "Or have you already asked?"[/I]
 
Amy shook her head, still smiling. "I think if you tried to come back as strong as Dave comes on you'd explode out of sheer embarrassment, my love." The wolf was something else in that regard, and she'd not yet met anyone else with the intersection of charisma and balls-of-adamantium he had to be the person he was. She would've been envious if it didn't sound so damned exhausting. Likely he was sashaying around downstairs as they spoke, coaxing someone nervous up on stage and giving their self-confidence the boost they needed to shine, and then moving onto his next victim to make them smile a little wider about their costume or hairstyle or something else they'd done.

She'd been about to suggest a milder, flirt back and don't overthink it, but Jonah beat her to the punch with his own suggestion. It was the answer to the question she hadn't quite asked, though she wasn't complaining about having the information. That confirmation made her relax considerably, shoulders slouching down from where they'd crawled up to keep her cheeks company. Had she really been that nervous?

Yes, apparently.

"God, no, first of all the bedroom is a mess and second of all I know better than to spring that on either of you." She shook her head again, denying her own private fantasies of grabbing both boys by the scruff and flinging them into one of Malia's spare bedrooms. Approximately nobody, their host included, would appreciate that plan. "I... have not yet asked him the important questions. I thought I'd give him a few days to settle in, maybe let his stuff catch up with him, before dropping the idea in his lap." Amy reached up to scratch her ears anxiously and added, "I think he'd be into you, but I... am less sure how he'd react to two-and-a-view-some, you know?"

As far as she knew Dave was gold-star gay, a Kinsey-6 with absolutely zero sexual interest in women. Not that her proposal involved the two of them touching more than incidentally. Nor was she particularly interested in him either, except as a collaborator. But it still was something. Something awkward to ask and explain. Talking to Jonah was one thing, because she knew the jackal wouldn't ever hold it against her, but it had been several years since she and Dave had been properly close. Maybe he'd take offence?

You're letting your anxiety drive where your rationality should be. Amy knew that but it didn't stop the nervous flutter from rising in her chest.

"Er, anyway, I do intend to ask. Just not today. In the meanwhile I really wouldn't overthink your response, short of telling him to go away or something. I think he was having as much fun terrorizing you in the kitchen as he did with you on stage." Talking about the two of them was much easier than envisioning herself involved in the process, and helped bring her anxiety back down to it's usual background level. "So, shall we head back downstairs and see what happens?"
 
Leaning in, Jonah gave her a kiss. It was short and sweet, and then quick and warm, a quick spark. She'd eased his nerves and he wanted to return the favor, as well as let her know his excitement. Nervous as he was, it still had him cranked up with all kinds of thoughts. And it wouldn't be possible without such an understanding partner. After pulling away, he stroked down her arms and gave those paws a squeeze before tugging her towards the kitchen. "Sure. C'mon. And you don't even have to sing." He went down the stairs eager to bump into the wolf now. Eager and butterfly-stomached, like he was about to get on stage.

On stage Sara was bouncing around squeaking to "Girls Are Just Gonna Have Fun". A perfect fit. Jonah went back up stairs and got her some water, because that much exuberance she was going to fall over afterwards. Malia was holdng court. Dave looked like he was the only one waiting for the mic to free up, and Jonah headed in that direction.

By the time he reached the wolf, Sara's song ended, and she hopped off the stage with a laugh and a huff. Jonah passed the water to her. "You looked like you might need this." "Thanks!" She took a strong pull. "And I need some sugar." "No...no you don't," the jackal reassured her. Then his attention shifted to Dave and he flashed a feigned hurt look. "Going up without me? I'm devastated. I'll just have to stand here and look at you."
 
Of all the replies he could've given Amy hadn't expected Jonah to simply kiss her. But it was what she needed, a reminder that no matter how much she tied her own stomach in knots over the whole idea that he was on-board and right there with her. Looking forwards to it, even, though the cheetah still couldn't be sure how much of his enthusiasm was caught from her, and how much was entirely his own. It was one thing to fantasize, but an entirely different thing to take steps to bring that fantasy into reality. Still, as anxious as she could be, Amy was not a cat who shied away from a challenge. And managing the three of them into a shape that left everyone satisfied, and with no feelings hurt, would she suspected be a challenge.

She grinned down at him as he pulled her along and chuckled at his remark. "Oh I don't know. Maybe if you two cause me enough grief I'll grab the mic just to get back at you."

If she could ever wrestle it from Sara, that was. Wasn't this the mink's second song, and she was pretty sure not everyone else had gotten a turn first. Nobody seemed upset, however, and the only other person queued was Dave who certainly already had his turn, so it was possible that just nobody else had wanted to go. In Amy's opinion that was for the best, because if she was to be totally honest she generally loathed karaoke. Jonah enjoyed it, so she suffered it, but...

Oh, where had her husband gone? Up the stairs, she could see, at an angle that revealed quite a bit of the jackal's very cute butt. Her eyes weren't the only ones that followed.

Are you staying or going, Silvertail? Dave felt a moment of concern at Jonah's sudden re-departure, worried by how both wife-and-husband had disappeared upstairs and worried more that the latter had removed himself again moments later. But a glance at Amy only got him a knowing smile, so he tried to not feel too awkward as he waited for Sara to ricochet into the ceiling or something.

Jonah did return, and when the wolf saw the water he passed off to Sara he felt silly for having worried at all. But what did that look from Amy mean?

"Depends on what kind of sugar she's asking for," Dave added in with a grin and an exaggerated lick of his chops that sent the mink giggling. He glanced at Jonah and tried to look bashful. "Well, miss Silvertail, I do hear you're quite good at lookin'." The innocent act dropped and he leaned in a little closer and dropped his voice. "Maybe you'll even find somethin' you like."

With a grin and a flick of his tail he sashayed onto the stage, and plucked the mic from where Sara had left it on the karaoke machine.

His song of choice was a pop song five years out of vogue, the vocals carrying themes of female independence and sexuality which had at the time debuted with a music video with some questionable themes. Spunky and sexy, even if Dave couldn't shake his hips like the gazelle who'd originally performed it he still put his best into the act, and the side slit in his dress let him squat down impressively low to shake his tail at the appropriate line. He twirled and strutted and held an impressive falsetto which only cracked on the last line, a little too high even for his skills.

By the end he was panting, but wore a pleased-looking grin as he licked his dry muzzle and hopped down from the stage.

Sara had wandered off in pursuit of something shiny (literally; Charlie had found a miniature disco ball and a flashlight and was trying to find somewhere to hang it up), leaving Jonah easy prey for the maned wolf as he meandered back in his direction.

"You do make 'devastation' look delicious, darlin'." He remarked as he moved alongside Jonah to lean against the wall. Though Dave tried to look casual, it was clear he needed a few moments to properly catch his breath. It had been a hot minute since he'd flipped his tail quite like that, and in heels no less!
 
At the moment the karaoke line was merely delayed. Sydney needed a bathroom break first, Charlie was caught in a conversation, that girl wanted to once-over lyrics on her phone, that guy was skimming the book in indecision, that other girl was not intoxicated enough, and the death metal red panda hadn't yet built up the nerve to do it in front of others. Sara and Dave were both the only enthusiastic and ready of the bunch.

The jackal paid attention to Dave's performance. While it might've been out of vogue, the song clung to life in one of the three playlists Amy used in the car. As music (and not an alluring video), it lacked a catchy chorus but the lyrics were clever and saucy enough to earn a grin. There was a sort've trill at the end of one of the stanzas that Jonah always listened for, having liked that bit, but the song never repeated it. Jonah paid attention to see if Dave could hit the accompanying note. Then he burst into laughter at the squat-and-wag, not having expected that out of the wolf.

For his efforts Dave found the jackal giving the bright, dancing eyes and wide canine smile of someone highly entertained--he wasn't just attracted and enticed, Jonah was impressed and amused. "I see why Amy likes you so much. You're shameless." The anxious cat seemed to gravitate to those who brought 110% without any self-consciousness, like Sara. He'd heard quite a bit of the shenanigans involved in those college days, but now he could imagine Dave having to do a little bit of coaxing and prodding to get her second-guessing spots in gear.

Jonah was still nervous, but instead of ignoring it, now he was trying to play. Whatever happened--if Dave was into him or not, if it went anywhere--didn't matter right now, all they could do was just tease eachother. It felt overwhelming but nice to have someone he was attracted to throwing so much charged attention at him, earnest or not. So far Jonah hadn't seen Dave licking chops over anyone else, and for a moment, it left Jonah feeling special. Wanted. That sense of pursuit was flattering. The trouble was his mind kept taking that to its conclusions and that was exciting him again.

Now the queue for the mic was building, which meant conversation was going to be harder. Jonah decided to use this to his advantage. "You know, since you're drawn so bad, maybe you can give me a little artistic advice." The music started up, but wasn't too loud yet. "Because here I am, having seen something I like. And I don't know what to do with it." He flashed Dave a toothy grin of his own, just as the music got in full swing.

He was hoping to leave the wolf stewing on that through the song, but realized possibly too late that the canine-on-stilts would just lean in real close and reply. Uh oh.
 
"Shameless doesn't cover the half of it," Dave replied with a pleased expression. He was halfway sure he was going to throw a damned ankle up there, but it had been worth it for the look on the jackal's face. Even if he hadn't worked out what Amy intended he enjoyed the attention and praise from her husband on it's own merits. Flirting and showing-off was fun without an end goal, twice as much when the other participant was also clearly having a good time. And he had permission, even if he didn't know what it meant, which helped to quash the nervous twist in his gut that would've otherwise come along with hitting on a man he knew was taken and assumed to be (mostly) straight.

Finally someone who wasn't Sara or him had stepped up to take the mic, and he wanted to sigh in relief. He enjoyed showing off but there was only so much karaoke the wolf had in his long, lean body. His attention on Jonah aside, he'd been hoping his over-the-top performances would encourage some of the more skeptical party-goers to jump in. Amy wouldn't, he knew, because the cheetah thought she had the singing talent of a failing pair of brake pads (she wasn't wrong, but Dave knew karaoke was about the spunk rather than the scales). But he knew a few other of the guests from college, and knew that some of them just needed an example and a nudge (and maybe some alcohol) to get going.

He pushed off of the wall as the silence lingered, feeling a bit steadier on his feet and very much in need of something cool to drink. But Jonah's words made him pause and turn to face the shorter Jackal, looking curious.

Curiosity became intrigue, which itself turned to excitement as the jackal grinned up at him. Undercut with a flash of uncertainty as the other man realized he'd cornered himself. Water could wait.

Was this what Amy meant by "interested"?

He didn't just lean in, he planted one paw against the wall to loom, and between their height difference and the heels he wore Jonah had to crane his neck to keep from staring into his cleavage-styled-mane. The other was on his cocked hip, exposing even more one long ombré leg through the slit in the side of his glittering dress. The barest edge of the waistband of a dance belt peeked out from how the slit hiked up. That explained the lack of awkward outlines even when he'd leaned back and pushed his hips out earlier in the clinging dress, or why he'd been able to shake his tail without fear of any wardrobe malfunctions up on the stage.

"Well from one gal to another," he purred in his natural baritone, not bothering with the falsetto. It sounded a little silly in his head, and his throat was getting irritated from the effort. "When I see something I like, I take it. If everyone's going to think you're bad no matter what you do, then there's no harm in fulfillin' their expectations every once in a while."
 
Back
Top Bottom