Nocturnal
Title: Nocturnal
Characters: Quentin Kinley, Tyler Jordan Graham
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 5180
Notes: The inevitable Zootopia AU. I make no apologies. I had fun writing it.
zootopia AU
"You can't trust a fox." That sentence had haunted Quentin his whole life. Eventually, it became easier to live up to it than to fight it. No one believed him anyways, so why bother telling the truth? He kept his head down and his snout out of other mammals' business and told everyone what they wanted to hear until he lost track of what the truth was underneath all the lies and misdirection. The lies he was good at keeping track of, though.
It didn't really matter, he figured. No one paid any attention to him one way or another, so it didn't make a difference what he said. No one cared much about a poor fox cub from the bad part of the city, and by the time he was full-grown Quentin was used to being ignored at best and verbally abused most of the time anyone bothered to notice him. He got pushed around by everyone: prey mammals already looked down on predators, and even other predators didn't respect him. He'd internalized the prejudice enough that he didn't trust other foxes... he didn't even trust himself.
Quentin wasn't big on introspection, but he knew that something was wrong with him. He'd dated a vixen once and broke things off pretty quickly when she started talking about cubs before the third date, dated a cougar who treated him like garbage and a lynx who only wanted him for sex, both of whom he stayed with for much longer than it took him to realize he was being mistreated, and then after a couple of very disturbing dreams he decided that being single was better than being used, at least until he figured out what he wanted.
When he figured it out, though, he wished he hadn't. Bad enough that he wasn't satisfied dating foxes, bad enough that he crossed the species line at all, but when Quentin realized that he didn't even want to sleep with other predators, that was really the death knell on his sanity. Realizing that he was interested in male mammals wasn't the most problematic thing about it; the fact that he found himself daydreaming about hoof-tipped fingers around his throat every time he saw a handsome pair of antlers walk by was.
It wasn't healthy, he knew that. Interspecies attraction was hard enough. Crossing the predator/prey divide was even harder. And the fact that Quentin fantasized about ceding control to a bigger, stronger prey mammal would just have been a field day for any psychiatrist if he'd ever been willing to see one. It was bad, Quentin knew it was bad, bad enough that he really shouldn't ever do anything about it. That didn't stop him from trying, but trying only proved what a bad idea it was-- he had an oryx throw a drink in his face the first time he made a proposition. The second time he tried to be a little more discreet about it, but by the time what he meant settled into the antelope's head, the look of horror he got had him slinking away with his tail between his legs. The last time he'd gotten punched in the face by a very strong moose.
He knew it was bad. He knew he shouldn't do anything about it. But by the time the bruises healed under his fur from the moose's solid right hook, Quentin was heading back out to try his luck again, a little more angry and a whole lot less sober than the last time he'd tried it. He sat at the bar tipping back meowjitos and scanning the crowd idly, passing over perky ears and artfully styled fur, barely glancing at anyone his own size or smaller. After he'd been there for about an hour, he noticed a tall, slim deer come in and make his way to the bar, and Quentin couldn't help staring at the most perfect rack of antlers he'd ever seen in his life.
He tried to resist approaching the buck by getting another drink, but he couldn't stop himself from looking. The buck had come in alone, didn't talk to anyone but the bartender as he got a drink and turned his attention to the pawball game on the TV above the bar, leaving Quentin a perfect opportunity to observe him as he sipped a beer. He was absolutely gorgeous, dark brown eyes and a rumpled forelock and broad shoulders under his button-up shirt. Quentin glanced down to find an adorable fluff of tail-- a whitetail, then. Quentin had a particular weakness for whitetails, his favorite porn star was a really buff whitetail buck with an asymmetric rack and a lopsided smile. This buck’s antlers were perfectly symmetrical, almost elegant-looking despite how casually he was dressed. Quentin watched him for a while before going into the restroom to splash a little water on his face and ask himself if he was really ready to get rejected again. He had to try, though.
Quentin made his way back to the bar, trying to figure out how to break the ice. That fifth meowjito had put him over the line, though. He staggered as he reached the bar and bumped into the object of his attention, startling both of them. The buck turned around, gave him a slow up-and-down look, and cracked a smile. "You okay, buddy? You seem a little unbalanced."
"I'm fine," Quentin said, straightening up to his full height and scowling the rest of the way up at the deer. Not the most auspicious of beginnings; Quentin was defensive enough already and he felt like this was the wrong paw to start on.
"If you say so." The buck looked more amused than anything. "Want me to call you a cab?"
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Maybe you should."
"Maybe you should mind your own damn business.” Quentin winced internally. He just couldn’t be nice tonight, apparently.
"Dude, who stepped on your tail? Or are you just an angry drunk?"
"I said it's not your business."
"Fine, fine. You're the one who walked over here, you know. You're unfriendly." The buck gave him a pat on the shoulder and turned away, and Quentin stared at him through narrowed eyes until he turned back around. "Wow, it's like having a laser beam pointed at my back. What's your deal?"
"Who are you?"
"What do you care?"
"Just tell me."
"I'm TJ, okay? My name's TJ. Who are you, mister mean fox?"
"Quentin."
"Okay, Quentin, what's your problem with me? Did I do something wrong?"
"You didn't do anything," Quentin said, and TJ gave him a confused look. "I just... nothing. Never mind."
"Please let me call you a cab, you clearly should go home."
"I'm not going home alone again."
"Oh, you're on the prowl? I think there's a couple of other foxes out on the patio, you should go try your luck." Quentin didn't want to go try his luck on foxes; his tendency to fixate had already settled firmly on TJ. He wanted to try his luck right here. There was no polite way to ask if someone was deviant enough to consider interspecies romance. Quentin's options were discretion to the point of obscurity, or chancing a violent reaction if he was blatant.
"Not what I'm looking for," he said, and TJ shrugged.
"You seem confused."
"I'm not confused," Quentin said, and he hopped up on the bar stool next to TJ to knock a little distance off the height difference between them. "I like your antlers."
"Oh really," TJ said, and now he looked amused again. "Thanks. The velvet just came off for the year, literally just finished coming off today."
"Well, they look really nice."
"Thank you." TJ's smile was dazzlingly bright, and Quentin smiled back, a little hopelessly and helplessly, already far too intrigued by the handsome deer. "So you don't want to go home alone, you don't want to talk to foxes, and you've been eyeing me pretty hard..."
"Sorry."
"You don't have to apologize. I'm just trying to figure out what your deal is. Last time a predator looked at me that hard, I got beaten up after school. But I don't think you could beat me up if you tried."
"I'm not planning on trying," Quentin said. "I'm not that kind of predator."
"So what kind are you, then?"
"The curious kind, I guess." TJ's smile widened.
"I like curious folks. I'm a curious mammal too."
"How curious?"
"Curious enough," TJ said, and he brushed his fingers over Quentin's paw so quickly that Quentin half thought he imagined it until TJ added, "You could take me home and find out." Quentin's eyes widened, and TJ smirked, clearly pleased to have surprised him. "Unless I'm totally reading you wrong."
"You're... not," Quentin conceded. "But you're the first mammal to not."
"This'll be fun, then," TJ said brightly. "Want to let me call that cab now?"
"I live within walking distance," Quentin said. "Are you... actually serious about this?"
"Are you going to hurt me?"
"No."
"Are you secretly feral?"
"No!"
"So what's the worst that could happen? Come on. I've heard horror stories about fox housekeeping habits, I want to see if it's true."
"That's a pernicious stereotype."
"Doesn't mean it's not true."
"Do you believe everything people say about foxes?"
"Nah. I'm tweaking your tail. Why, how much of it is true?"
"You're just gonna have to find out for yourself," Quentin said, and he hopped off the barstool and headed out the door, walking fast so he didn't get immediately outpaced by the buck's longer legs.
"You don't have to run," TJ said, "but you look really good from the back so I'm not complaining." Quentin glanced over his shoulder to find brown eyes watching him with a surprising amount of warmth. "Are you always high strung?"
"Pretty much," Quentin said. "Are you always too easygoing?"
"Yeah, always. Gets me into trouble a lot."
"Might get you into trouble now, too."
"Don't threaten me with a good time," TJ said with a laugh, and Quentin's heart skipped a beat. "Trouble is my middle name. I'm not fazed." Quentin just walked a little faster, leading TJ up the stairs of his apartment building and into his small but neatly kept apartment. "Thrift store shopper?" TJ asked, looking around at the mismatched furniture.
"Curb scavenger," Quentin replied with a shrug. "Some of the stereotypes are true."
"I'm not judging," TJ said. "But I would like a little clarification of what exactly we think we're doing."
"Playing it by ear," Quentin said. "Ever have an interspecies affair before?"
"Ha, not hardly. I just broke up with my long-term doefriend today. I'm a little..." TJ wobbled a hand in the air. "Prone to making poor decisions right now."
"Oh, good. I'm a really poor decision to make."
"Why's that?"
"I've tried to do this before and every time I ended up getting my ass kicked instead," Quentin said. "So if you decide you're not into it, if you could do me the favor of not punching me on your way out I'd appreciate it."
"Not my style," TJ said. "Why, are you into something super weird? What's your thing?" He sat down on the couch and pulled Quentin to sit next to him, looking down at him with his brows arched. "Small predator complex? Feral roleplay? It's gotta be something weird if it makes mammals beat you up for asking for it."
"Feral-- no, definitely not that," Quentin said, and he looked up at the points of TJ's antlers instead of meeting his eyes, too nervous to directly watch his reaction. "I want you to treat me like prey," he said quietly, and TJ made an interested sound. "Like you're the predator and I'm the prey."
"I can see why other mammals didn't like it. Kinda archaic thinking," TJ said. "Let me guess, you have a thing for grazers."
"Not specifically, it's more like a thing about antlers," Quentin said. "The last mammal to get offended when I asked was a moose, he almost put me in the ER when he realized what I wanted. You... you seem nicer than that. Nicer, in general."
"A moose? How did you think that was gonna work out for you? You're on the petite side, you know."
"Don't remind me."
"At least we're from the same ecosystem," TJ said, a hint of a laugh in his voice. "All right. Come here, would you?" It didn't take much urging to get Quentin onto TJ's lap, and TJ pulled Quentin's tail around to stroke soft red fur. "I've never even thought about it before. Sleeping with a predator. Seems like asking for trouble."
"Trouble is your middle name," Quentin reminded him, and TJ grinned. "I'm not a threat to you. Even if I wanted to be one, I wouldn't be much of one. But that's not what I want."
"What do you want? Specifically, I mean? I don't... I've never looked at predator porn or anything. I don't think I've ever even heard of predator/prey porn, that's just... not done." He couldn't stop touching Quentin's tail, fingers scratching through fur, and Quentin sighed happily at the touch.
"You have to know where to look for it... but I've never been able to find even a picture of the way I want things," Quentin said. "I'm... kinda messed up, I guess. I'm unnatural. I want you to hold me down. Bite me. Um..." Quentin pressed a paw to the front of TJ's jeans, green eyes going heavy-lidded at the feel of him. "It might be a bad idea but I want you to fuck me."
"I don't want to hurt you," TJ said, full of concern underneath the lust that surged at Quentin's touch. "You're like half my size."
"That's the point," Quentin said. "Literally the entire point. All of that is the point. I want it to hurt. I want to feel like I'm in danger. You're not gonna do anything to me I don't actually want you to do. And you don't have to-- I mean, if that's not something you're comfortable doing, that's fine. If you'd rather do something less weird, that's fine. If you want to leave, you can."
"I don't want to leave," TJ said. "I am definitely not thinking about leaving. I'm too intrigued to bail now." He leaned down to nuzzle Quentin's throat, humming quietly. "I should warn you that I can't do mean. I just can't. I'm a nice mammal. But I'll pretend if you want me to."
"Whatever you do-- literally anything you do will be more than anyone's done for me before," Quentin said. "My bar is so low it's practically on the floor. You could do none of what I asked for and the fact that you're not leaving is still the best thing anyone's done for me."
"You haven't caught many breaks in your life, have you?" TJ asked, and Quentin gave him an ironic smirk.
"Even well-adjusted foxes don't catch many breaks. The unfortunate nature of the beast."
"I'm sorry," TJ said. His hands came up and he scratched Quentin right behind both ears, until Quentin shivered and closed his eyes and relaxed against TJ's chest. It was a simple pleasure, and TJ felt that starting simple was best. What Quentin wanted was complex and heavy-laden with layers of meaning it would be too easy to misconstrue, which wasn't to say that TJ wasn't willing to give it to him, but... it was obvious that the fox could use a little kindness in his life, and TJ's modus operandi was sweetness anyways. Better to work their way up to it, he felt.
"That's nice," Quentin murmured, rubbing his muzzle against TJ's chest. "You smell good, too."
"I was out working in a meadow today," TJ said, smiling when he realized that Quentin's bushy tail was wagging slowly with pleasure. "It was really relaxing. Sunshine and tall grass and all sorts of wildflowers all over the place."
"Sounds lovely," Quentin said dreamily, taking another deep breath with his nose pressed into TJ's fur. "Not so big on the sunshine, but it must be nice to get out of the city."
"Yeah, I prefer the night time, but it was good to get out in the sun for a little while. Gotta appreciate the summer, you know." TJ caught Quentin's tail mid-wag and stroked it from base to tip, hand full of fluffy fur. "I like your tail. It's very soft."
"You could pull it a little," Quentin suggested, and he let out a pleased yip when TJ did. "Oh, you're too sweet. I'm not going to be able to get you to hurt me, am I?"
"Are you in a rush?"
"We're both nocturnal. And the night's still pretty young."
"Then chill out and enjoy yourself," TJ said. "This is the first time I've touched a fox. I'm not speeding through it. You can touch me too, you know."
"I am touching you," Quentin said, but he lifted his head to meet TJ's gaze as he ran his paws down TJ's arms. "What do you like?"
"Oh, just about anything," TJ said carelessly. "Well. I don't know what predators do in bed, I guess. I'm assuming you watch a lot of prey porn if you've got a thing for antlers."
"You would probably be shocked by how much of it I watch," Quentin said dryly. "You have an absolutely gorgeous rack, by the way. Picture perfect." He reached up to run a paw along the branch of one antler and TJ ducked his head to let him do it.
"How'd you end up with an antler fetish, anyways? That's such an unlikely thing for a fox to fixate on."
"I wish I knew. Maybe because it used to be so tied to dominance... I don't know, I'm just screwed up."
"Well, you're not wrong," TJ said. "If we were still savage, I'd be fighting it out with other bucks for the prettiest does. And I like to think I'd win."
"What happened with your doefriend?" Quentin asked, and TJ winced. "I'm sorry, forget I asked."
"No, it's okay. She really, really wants fawns like right now and I'm not so sure that fatherhood is for me."
"I'm so familiar with that feeling."
"Really? You're not gay?"
"None of the females I've been with were good for me."
"What about the males you've been with?" Quentin put his paws on TJ's chest, smiling slightly.
"Haven't been with any, but I've got high hopes for this really handsome buck..."
"Oh, good," TJ said. "If you have no experience either then neither of us will know if we're really bad at it."
"Like I said... Anything at all you do is more than anyone's done for me before." TJ hummed quietly, ruffling the fur on the back of Quentin's neck the wrong way and then smoothing it out again. "I think you're too sweet to push me around like I want, but that's okay..." Quentin gasped when TJ stood up, lifting him easily.
"Which way's your bedroom?"
"Left." Quentin clung tightly to TJ, arms around his neck, and TJ whistled as he found the right door.
"This is not a fox-sized bed."
"I'm a restless sleeper," Quentin said, "and I only ever try to bring home mammals that are larger than me. It's mostly a product of wishful thinking." The bed was probably big enough for that moose Quentin had tried to proposition; it was more than enough space for a leggy whitetail and a skinny fox to roll around together. TJ wasn't interested in rolling around just yet. He settled on the bed with Quentin underneath him and almost laughed at the little whimper Quentin let out.
"You wanted to be held down?" he asked, catching Quentin's wrists and pinning his paws to the bed next to his head. Quentin struggled against his grip but couldn't break it, and when his paws went still his hips rose instead, making TJ realize how much he'd turned the fox on-- and how turned on he was himself.
"What are you going to do to me?" Quentin asked, voice gone throaty with arousal. TJ didn't answer, just kissed him sweetly, tongue tracing the points of Quentin's fangs curiously at first.
"You taste like catmint," TJ said, rubbing his muzzle against Quentin's when the kiss ended. "I didn't realize canines went for that."
"I was drinking meowjitos," Quentin admitted. "I got a taste for them when I was dating a lynx. They were all she ever drank."
"A fox who's tipsy on meowjitos and wants to get fucked by a stag," TJ said. "You're a rare beast, Quentin."
"I don't see you leaving," Quentin shot back, and TJ laughed.
"Are you kidding? You're fascinating. If I left, I'd spend the rest of my life wondering what it would have been like. I'd rather find out." He let go of Quentin's paws, but only long enough to pull the fox's shirt off and unbutton his own before gripping his wrists again. "What do you want me to do to you?"
"If you could bite..." Quentin didn't even finish the sentence before TJ nibbled gently at his shoulder, but the gasp Quentin made was an outsized reaction until TJ realized how close the points of his antlers were to Quentin's head. He made to move back but froze when Quentin said, "Wait! No, please, that's -- that's perfect, threaten me with them?"
"I don't feel very threatening," TJ said, but he turned his head until the sharpest point of his left antler traced the soft white underside of Quentin's neck. "I could probably hurt you a lot right now, though," he said thoughtfully, pressing down a little harder. "I don't think of them as weapons. I put a lot of effort into making them look nice, but I've never even been in a fight since I was a fawn. I could probably do some damage if I wanted to." He regretted that he couldn't see Quentin's face as he talked, but the sounds the fox was making went straight to TJ's cock, quiet whimpers and one drawn-out moan when TJ let go of his wrists and settled a hand between Quentin's legs instead, finding him so turned on that his pants were damp where he strained against them. "That's an interesting thought. Not much you can do to me like this, is there? You've got claws and fangs, but I could fuck you up pretty badly right now before you could even try to draw blood. What do you think?"
"TJ, please..." TJ lifted his head to discover Quentin so far gone in arousal that the emerald of his eyes was almost all pupil. He tipped his head back further, baring his throat. "Please fuck me," he begged, and TJ kissed him once, hard, bit at his throat, not hard, and reared back on his knees to flip Quentin facedown and peel his pants down and off. As soon as he wasn't laying on it, Quentin's tail started wagging hard, not like TJ had any difficulty telling how delighted he was. Quentin clawed his way to the head of the bed and dug under a pillow to find a bottle of lube and pitch it back to TJ. “Please,” he said again, and TJ couldn't get out of his own jeans fast enough.
“I've never done this before,” he said, catching Quentin's tail in one hand and holding it still at the center of his back. “What do I do so I don't hurt you?”
“Get your fingers slippery and put one in me… figure out how many fingers I need before I can take you.” Quentin yipped quietly when TJ pressed the first finger in. “Oh that's good. Mm. One of yours is like two of mine.”
“Well, I am just about twice your size,” TJ said, and Quentin’s tail wagged so hard TJ lost his grip on it.
“Believe me, I know,” Quentin said. “I'm acutely aware.” TJ caught Quentin's tail again, this time holding it between his muzzle and his shoulder, gratuitously burying his face in the soft brush of Quentin's bushy tail as he pushed another finger into Quentin's body as gently as he could. “Oh my god, TJ!”
“You're so tight… I'm afraid I'm going to hurt you if I do any more,” TJ said, and Quentin whined at the back of his throat.
“I don't care, I want it to hurt. It'll still feel good even if it hurts. Come on, please…” Quentin arched his back, reaching back with one paw to stroke TJ's muzzle. “Please. I'm begging you.”
“You don't have to beg,” TJ said, kissing Quentin's fingertips. “If you're sure that's what you want….”
“I'm going to cry if you don't.”
“Oh, stop. You might cry if I do.”
“Tears of joy, maybe.” Quentin wiggled his rump a little to encourage TJ to keep moving his fingers. “I don't want you to hold anything back. Rut me like you want to keep me forever.”
“I’d definitely hurt you if I did that,” TJ said, slowly working a third finger into Quentin. “I think you don’t know what deer are like on the rut.”
“You’re so wrong,” Quentin said, “I told you you had no idea how much porn I watch, that’s my favorite. Strong bucks out of their minds with passion.”
“You’re not a buck,” TJ reminded him, biting gently at his tail. “You’re a cute little masochistic fox who doesn’t actually know what he can handle, and I’m not going to be the one to break you.”
“I’m not cute.”
“You’re so cute. You’re cute from the tips of your ears to the end of your tail.” TJ nuzzled against Quentin’s tail as he eased his fingers out slowly to a low whine from the fox. “I might want to keep you, though. I like the thought of it. Having a sexy little fox on speed dial.” He moved to cover Quentin’s body with his own, laughing softly at the way Quentin pushed up onto his paws to rise and meet him. “What do you think? You want to be mine?” He teased the tip of his cock over Quentin’s entrance, just too little pressure to push in.
“Don’t toy with me,” Quentin growled, reaching up to prick his claws against TJ’s shoulder. “Yes. I might. But you don’t really.”
“Maybe I do,” TJ said, and Quentin’s only response was a howl of pleasure when TJ stopped teasing and took him in one slow, sweet thrust. TJ had to hold still when he bottomed out, shivering from how good it felt, and he nuzzled the top of Quentin's head, kissing his flattened ears. Quentin’s tail wrapped around TJ’s waist and the fox panted as he adjusted to getting exactly what he’d wanted.
“Touch me,” Quentin said, and TJ caressed a hand down the cream-colored fur of Quentin’s chest and belly before wrapping a hand around his cock. “Oh my god. Yeah, please.”
“So good…” TJ barely moved at first, but Quentin had no patience for careful handling, rocking forward and then back again with another yip. “Stop rushing,” TJ said, and Quentin shook his head.
“Stop wasting time,” he shot back, and TJ bit at the edge of one pulled back ear and made Quentin shudder with pleasure.
“Bossy little thing, aren’t you?”
“Stop calling me little.”
“Are you trying to annoy me into getting rough with you?” TJ asked with a laugh, and Quentin snorted and shifted underneath him.
“Will it work?”
“No.”
“Then that’s not what I’m doing. Come on, I’m not delicate, put your tail into it.”
“You’re so pushy. Can’t you just enjoy it?” TJ moved his hand a little faster, but kept his hips moving slowly. Quentin whined and dropped his head against his crossed arms, giving in gracelessly to the pace TJ set, and TJ nipped the back of his neck playfully. “You can’t blame me for wanting to savor this, can you?”
“I could…” Quentin yelped when TJ withdrew almost completely and thrust back in to the hilt in one smooth motion. “Fuck! Yeah, like that!” TJ had been planning on teasing him for a little while longer, but that thrust felt so good that he gave Quentin what he wanted after that, not being rough but being very enthusiastic about keeping the fox pinned to the bed and panting with pleasure underneath him.
Neither of them was experienced at this, and it was too good to last very long. Quentin lost control first, quickly overwhelmed by the fulfillment of his fantasy, and his climax drew out TJ’s a moment later, the buck tipping them both to one side so he wouldn’t crush Quentin underneath him. Quentin wriggled slightly, but TJ didn’t let go, cuddling him close in the afterglow, and Quentin settled down with a sigh and tipped his head back against TJ’s chest. “How was that?” TJ asked, nuzzling Quentin between his flattened ears.
“Go ahead and put me on your speed dial,” Quentin said, sounding dazed. “Cause I’m willing to do that again literally any time you want to.” He curled his fingers around TJ’s wrist, looking down at their hands. “Unless you were joking about that.”
“I’m not going to make you a booty call,” TJ said, stroking Quentin’s chest. “Unless that’s all you want.”
“What else could you possibly want from me?”
“I’d like to get to know you. I’m not really the hit-it-and-quit-it type.”
“We can’t date,” Quentin said, going very still in TJ’s arms. “We’d-- you’d never live it down. I don’t really care about my reputation but you probably do about yours.”
“A little notoriety might be good for me,” TJ said, sounding amused. “I can think of worse things for people to know me for than being in a relationship with a fox. Why, are you a terrible boyfriend? You do seem pretty demanding.”
“I’m not a very good one, according to my exes. But all my exes were pretty awful, so their word isn’t very good, either. I’m… I’m pretty weird.”
“We’ve established that fact already. I’m pretty weird too.”
“What are you like in a relationship?” TJ laughed and kissed the top of Quentin’s head again.
“Laid-back. Affectionate. Kind of a romantic. I like to make someone happy unless it’s at the expense of my own happiness.”
“You made me really happy tonight,” Quentin said softly. “Thank you for that.”
“I’d keep doing it if you wanted me to.”
“I wish you would.”
“Yeah? Then I will. Here, look at me…” When Quentin turned around, TJ kissed him, lazy with satisfaction. “Does that mean I can spend the night?”
“You want to?”
“I like to cuddle,” TJ said, “and if I stay then we can do something else tonight. Still lots of nighttime left, and like you said, we’re both nocturnal.”
Characters: Quentin Kinley, Tyler Jordan Graham
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 5180
Notes: The inevitable Zootopia AU. I make no apologies. I had fun writing it.
zootopia AU
"You can't trust a fox." That sentence had haunted Quentin his whole life. Eventually, it became easier to live up to it than to fight it. No one believed him anyways, so why bother telling the truth? He kept his head down and his snout out of other mammals' business and told everyone what they wanted to hear until he lost track of what the truth was underneath all the lies and misdirection. The lies he was good at keeping track of, though.
It didn't really matter, he figured. No one paid any attention to him one way or another, so it didn't make a difference what he said. No one cared much about a poor fox cub from the bad part of the city, and by the time he was full-grown Quentin was used to being ignored at best and verbally abused most of the time anyone bothered to notice him. He got pushed around by everyone: prey mammals already looked down on predators, and even other predators didn't respect him. He'd internalized the prejudice enough that he didn't trust other foxes... he didn't even trust himself.
Quentin wasn't big on introspection, but he knew that something was wrong with him. He'd dated a vixen once and broke things off pretty quickly when she started talking about cubs before the third date, dated a cougar who treated him like garbage and a lynx who only wanted him for sex, both of whom he stayed with for much longer than it took him to realize he was being mistreated, and then after a couple of very disturbing dreams he decided that being single was better than being used, at least until he figured out what he wanted.
When he figured it out, though, he wished he hadn't. Bad enough that he wasn't satisfied dating foxes, bad enough that he crossed the species line at all, but when Quentin realized that he didn't even want to sleep with other predators, that was really the death knell on his sanity. Realizing that he was interested in male mammals wasn't the most problematic thing about it; the fact that he found himself daydreaming about hoof-tipped fingers around his throat every time he saw a handsome pair of antlers walk by was.
It wasn't healthy, he knew that. Interspecies attraction was hard enough. Crossing the predator/prey divide was even harder. And the fact that Quentin fantasized about ceding control to a bigger, stronger prey mammal would just have been a field day for any psychiatrist if he'd ever been willing to see one. It was bad, Quentin knew it was bad, bad enough that he really shouldn't ever do anything about it. That didn't stop him from trying, but trying only proved what a bad idea it was-- he had an oryx throw a drink in his face the first time he made a proposition. The second time he tried to be a little more discreet about it, but by the time what he meant settled into the antelope's head, the look of horror he got had him slinking away with his tail between his legs. The last time he'd gotten punched in the face by a very strong moose.
He knew it was bad. He knew he shouldn't do anything about it. But by the time the bruises healed under his fur from the moose's solid right hook, Quentin was heading back out to try his luck again, a little more angry and a whole lot less sober than the last time he'd tried it. He sat at the bar tipping back meowjitos and scanning the crowd idly, passing over perky ears and artfully styled fur, barely glancing at anyone his own size or smaller. After he'd been there for about an hour, he noticed a tall, slim deer come in and make his way to the bar, and Quentin couldn't help staring at the most perfect rack of antlers he'd ever seen in his life.
He tried to resist approaching the buck by getting another drink, but he couldn't stop himself from looking. The buck had come in alone, didn't talk to anyone but the bartender as he got a drink and turned his attention to the pawball game on the TV above the bar, leaving Quentin a perfect opportunity to observe him as he sipped a beer. He was absolutely gorgeous, dark brown eyes and a rumpled forelock and broad shoulders under his button-up shirt. Quentin glanced down to find an adorable fluff of tail-- a whitetail, then. Quentin had a particular weakness for whitetails, his favorite porn star was a really buff whitetail buck with an asymmetric rack and a lopsided smile. This buck’s antlers were perfectly symmetrical, almost elegant-looking despite how casually he was dressed. Quentin watched him for a while before going into the restroom to splash a little water on his face and ask himself if he was really ready to get rejected again. He had to try, though.
Quentin made his way back to the bar, trying to figure out how to break the ice. That fifth meowjito had put him over the line, though. He staggered as he reached the bar and bumped into the object of his attention, startling both of them. The buck turned around, gave him a slow up-and-down look, and cracked a smile. "You okay, buddy? You seem a little unbalanced."
"I'm fine," Quentin said, straightening up to his full height and scowling the rest of the way up at the deer. Not the most auspicious of beginnings; Quentin was defensive enough already and he felt like this was the wrong paw to start on.
"If you say so." The buck looked more amused than anything. "Want me to call you a cab?"
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Maybe you should."
"Maybe you should mind your own damn business.” Quentin winced internally. He just couldn’t be nice tonight, apparently.
"Dude, who stepped on your tail? Or are you just an angry drunk?"
"I said it's not your business."
"Fine, fine. You're the one who walked over here, you know. You're unfriendly." The buck gave him a pat on the shoulder and turned away, and Quentin stared at him through narrowed eyes until he turned back around. "Wow, it's like having a laser beam pointed at my back. What's your deal?"
"Who are you?"
"What do you care?"
"Just tell me."
"I'm TJ, okay? My name's TJ. Who are you, mister mean fox?"
"Quentin."
"Okay, Quentin, what's your problem with me? Did I do something wrong?"
"You didn't do anything," Quentin said, and TJ gave him a confused look. "I just... nothing. Never mind."
"Please let me call you a cab, you clearly should go home."
"I'm not going home alone again."
"Oh, you're on the prowl? I think there's a couple of other foxes out on the patio, you should go try your luck." Quentin didn't want to go try his luck on foxes; his tendency to fixate had already settled firmly on TJ. He wanted to try his luck right here. There was no polite way to ask if someone was deviant enough to consider interspecies romance. Quentin's options were discretion to the point of obscurity, or chancing a violent reaction if he was blatant.
"Not what I'm looking for," he said, and TJ shrugged.
"You seem confused."
"I'm not confused," Quentin said, and he hopped up on the bar stool next to TJ to knock a little distance off the height difference between them. "I like your antlers."
"Oh really," TJ said, and now he looked amused again. "Thanks. The velvet just came off for the year, literally just finished coming off today."
"Well, they look really nice."
"Thank you." TJ's smile was dazzlingly bright, and Quentin smiled back, a little hopelessly and helplessly, already far too intrigued by the handsome deer. "So you don't want to go home alone, you don't want to talk to foxes, and you've been eyeing me pretty hard..."
"Sorry."
"You don't have to apologize. I'm just trying to figure out what your deal is. Last time a predator looked at me that hard, I got beaten up after school. But I don't think you could beat me up if you tried."
"I'm not planning on trying," Quentin said. "I'm not that kind of predator."
"So what kind are you, then?"
"The curious kind, I guess." TJ's smile widened.
"I like curious folks. I'm a curious mammal too."
"How curious?"
"Curious enough," TJ said, and he brushed his fingers over Quentin's paw so quickly that Quentin half thought he imagined it until TJ added, "You could take me home and find out." Quentin's eyes widened, and TJ smirked, clearly pleased to have surprised him. "Unless I'm totally reading you wrong."
"You're... not," Quentin conceded. "But you're the first mammal to not."
"This'll be fun, then," TJ said brightly. "Want to let me call that cab now?"
"I live within walking distance," Quentin said. "Are you... actually serious about this?"
"Are you going to hurt me?"
"No."
"Are you secretly feral?"
"No!"
"So what's the worst that could happen? Come on. I've heard horror stories about fox housekeeping habits, I want to see if it's true."
"That's a pernicious stereotype."
"Doesn't mean it's not true."
"Do you believe everything people say about foxes?"
"Nah. I'm tweaking your tail. Why, how much of it is true?"
"You're just gonna have to find out for yourself," Quentin said, and he hopped off the barstool and headed out the door, walking fast so he didn't get immediately outpaced by the buck's longer legs.
"You don't have to run," TJ said, "but you look really good from the back so I'm not complaining." Quentin glanced over his shoulder to find brown eyes watching him with a surprising amount of warmth. "Are you always high strung?"
"Pretty much," Quentin said. "Are you always too easygoing?"
"Yeah, always. Gets me into trouble a lot."
"Might get you into trouble now, too."
"Don't threaten me with a good time," TJ said with a laugh, and Quentin's heart skipped a beat. "Trouble is my middle name. I'm not fazed." Quentin just walked a little faster, leading TJ up the stairs of his apartment building and into his small but neatly kept apartment. "Thrift store shopper?" TJ asked, looking around at the mismatched furniture.
"Curb scavenger," Quentin replied with a shrug. "Some of the stereotypes are true."
"I'm not judging," TJ said. "But I would like a little clarification of what exactly we think we're doing."
"Playing it by ear," Quentin said. "Ever have an interspecies affair before?"
"Ha, not hardly. I just broke up with my long-term doefriend today. I'm a little..." TJ wobbled a hand in the air. "Prone to making poor decisions right now."
"Oh, good. I'm a really poor decision to make."
"Why's that?"
"I've tried to do this before and every time I ended up getting my ass kicked instead," Quentin said. "So if you decide you're not into it, if you could do me the favor of not punching me on your way out I'd appreciate it."
"Not my style," TJ said. "Why, are you into something super weird? What's your thing?" He sat down on the couch and pulled Quentin to sit next to him, looking down at him with his brows arched. "Small predator complex? Feral roleplay? It's gotta be something weird if it makes mammals beat you up for asking for it."
"Feral-- no, definitely not that," Quentin said, and he looked up at the points of TJ's antlers instead of meeting his eyes, too nervous to directly watch his reaction. "I want you to treat me like prey," he said quietly, and TJ made an interested sound. "Like you're the predator and I'm the prey."
"I can see why other mammals didn't like it. Kinda archaic thinking," TJ said. "Let me guess, you have a thing for grazers."
"Not specifically, it's more like a thing about antlers," Quentin said. "The last mammal to get offended when I asked was a moose, he almost put me in the ER when he realized what I wanted. You... you seem nicer than that. Nicer, in general."
"A moose? How did you think that was gonna work out for you? You're on the petite side, you know."
"Don't remind me."
"At least we're from the same ecosystem," TJ said, a hint of a laugh in his voice. "All right. Come here, would you?" It didn't take much urging to get Quentin onto TJ's lap, and TJ pulled Quentin's tail around to stroke soft red fur. "I've never even thought about it before. Sleeping with a predator. Seems like asking for trouble."
"Trouble is your middle name," Quentin reminded him, and TJ grinned. "I'm not a threat to you. Even if I wanted to be one, I wouldn't be much of one. But that's not what I want."
"What do you want? Specifically, I mean? I don't... I've never looked at predator porn or anything. I don't think I've ever even heard of predator/prey porn, that's just... not done." He couldn't stop touching Quentin's tail, fingers scratching through fur, and Quentin sighed happily at the touch.
"You have to know where to look for it... but I've never been able to find even a picture of the way I want things," Quentin said. "I'm... kinda messed up, I guess. I'm unnatural. I want you to hold me down. Bite me. Um..." Quentin pressed a paw to the front of TJ's jeans, green eyes going heavy-lidded at the feel of him. "It might be a bad idea but I want you to fuck me."
"I don't want to hurt you," TJ said, full of concern underneath the lust that surged at Quentin's touch. "You're like half my size."
"That's the point," Quentin said. "Literally the entire point. All of that is the point. I want it to hurt. I want to feel like I'm in danger. You're not gonna do anything to me I don't actually want you to do. And you don't have to-- I mean, if that's not something you're comfortable doing, that's fine. If you'd rather do something less weird, that's fine. If you want to leave, you can."
"I don't want to leave," TJ said. "I am definitely not thinking about leaving. I'm too intrigued to bail now." He leaned down to nuzzle Quentin's throat, humming quietly. "I should warn you that I can't do mean. I just can't. I'm a nice mammal. But I'll pretend if you want me to."
"Whatever you do-- literally anything you do will be more than anyone's done for me before," Quentin said. "My bar is so low it's practically on the floor. You could do none of what I asked for and the fact that you're not leaving is still the best thing anyone's done for me."
"You haven't caught many breaks in your life, have you?" TJ asked, and Quentin gave him an ironic smirk.
"Even well-adjusted foxes don't catch many breaks. The unfortunate nature of the beast."
"I'm sorry," TJ said. His hands came up and he scratched Quentin right behind both ears, until Quentin shivered and closed his eyes and relaxed against TJ's chest. It was a simple pleasure, and TJ felt that starting simple was best. What Quentin wanted was complex and heavy-laden with layers of meaning it would be too easy to misconstrue, which wasn't to say that TJ wasn't willing to give it to him, but... it was obvious that the fox could use a little kindness in his life, and TJ's modus operandi was sweetness anyways. Better to work their way up to it, he felt.
"That's nice," Quentin murmured, rubbing his muzzle against TJ's chest. "You smell good, too."
"I was out working in a meadow today," TJ said, smiling when he realized that Quentin's bushy tail was wagging slowly with pleasure. "It was really relaxing. Sunshine and tall grass and all sorts of wildflowers all over the place."
"Sounds lovely," Quentin said dreamily, taking another deep breath with his nose pressed into TJ's fur. "Not so big on the sunshine, but it must be nice to get out of the city."
"Yeah, I prefer the night time, but it was good to get out in the sun for a little while. Gotta appreciate the summer, you know." TJ caught Quentin's tail mid-wag and stroked it from base to tip, hand full of fluffy fur. "I like your tail. It's very soft."
"You could pull it a little," Quentin suggested, and he let out a pleased yip when TJ did. "Oh, you're too sweet. I'm not going to be able to get you to hurt me, am I?"
"Are you in a rush?"
"We're both nocturnal. And the night's still pretty young."
"Then chill out and enjoy yourself," TJ said. "This is the first time I've touched a fox. I'm not speeding through it. You can touch me too, you know."
"I am touching you," Quentin said, but he lifted his head to meet TJ's gaze as he ran his paws down TJ's arms. "What do you like?"
"Oh, just about anything," TJ said carelessly. "Well. I don't know what predators do in bed, I guess. I'm assuming you watch a lot of prey porn if you've got a thing for antlers."
"You would probably be shocked by how much of it I watch," Quentin said dryly. "You have an absolutely gorgeous rack, by the way. Picture perfect." He reached up to run a paw along the branch of one antler and TJ ducked his head to let him do it.
"How'd you end up with an antler fetish, anyways? That's such an unlikely thing for a fox to fixate on."
"I wish I knew. Maybe because it used to be so tied to dominance... I don't know, I'm just screwed up."
"Well, you're not wrong," TJ said. "If we were still savage, I'd be fighting it out with other bucks for the prettiest does. And I like to think I'd win."
"What happened with your doefriend?" Quentin asked, and TJ winced. "I'm sorry, forget I asked."
"No, it's okay. She really, really wants fawns like right now and I'm not so sure that fatherhood is for me."
"I'm so familiar with that feeling."
"Really? You're not gay?"
"None of the females I've been with were good for me."
"What about the males you've been with?" Quentin put his paws on TJ's chest, smiling slightly.
"Haven't been with any, but I've got high hopes for this really handsome buck..."
"Oh, good," TJ said. "If you have no experience either then neither of us will know if we're really bad at it."
"Like I said... Anything at all you do is more than anyone's done for me before." TJ hummed quietly, ruffling the fur on the back of Quentin's neck the wrong way and then smoothing it out again. "I think you're too sweet to push me around like I want, but that's okay..." Quentin gasped when TJ stood up, lifting him easily.
"Which way's your bedroom?"
"Left." Quentin clung tightly to TJ, arms around his neck, and TJ whistled as he found the right door.
"This is not a fox-sized bed."
"I'm a restless sleeper," Quentin said, "and I only ever try to bring home mammals that are larger than me. It's mostly a product of wishful thinking." The bed was probably big enough for that moose Quentin had tried to proposition; it was more than enough space for a leggy whitetail and a skinny fox to roll around together. TJ wasn't interested in rolling around just yet. He settled on the bed with Quentin underneath him and almost laughed at the little whimper Quentin let out.
"You wanted to be held down?" he asked, catching Quentin's wrists and pinning his paws to the bed next to his head. Quentin struggled against his grip but couldn't break it, and when his paws went still his hips rose instead, making TJ realize how much he'd turned the fox on-- and how turned on he was himself.
"What are you going to do to me?" Quentin asked, voice gone throaty with arousal. TJ didn't answer, just kissed him sweetly, tongue tracing the points of Quentin's fangs curiously at first.
"You taste like catmint," TJ said, rubbing his muzzle against Quentin's when the kiss ended. "I didn't realize canines went for that."
"I was drinking meowjitos," Quentin admitted. "I got a taste for them when I was dating a lynx. They were all she ever drank."
"A fox who's tipsy on meowjitos and wants to get fucked by a stag," TJ said. "You're a rare beast, Quentin."
"I don't see you leaving," Quentin shot back, and TJ laughed.
"Are you kidding? You're fascinating. If I left, I'd spend the rest of my life wondering what it would have been like. I'd rather find out." He let go of Quentin's paws, but only long enough to pull the fox's shirt off and unbutton his own before gripping his wrists again. "What do you want me to do to you?"
"If you could bite..." Quentin didn't even finish the sentence before TJ nibbled gently at his shoulder, but the gasp Quentin made was an outsized reaction until TJ realized how close the points of his antlers were to Quentin's head. He made to move back but froze when Quentin said, "Wait! No, please, that's -- that's perfect, threaten me with them?"
"I don't feel very threatening," TJ said, but he turned his head until the sharpest point of his left antler traced the soft white underside of Quentin's neck. "I could probably hurt you a lot right now, though," he said thoughtfully, pressing down a little harder. "I don't think of them as weapons. I put a lot of effort into making them look nice, but I've never even been in a fight since I was a fawn. I could probably do some damage if I wanted to." He regretted that he couldn't see Quentin's face as he talked, but the sounds the fox was making went straight to TJ's cock, quiet whimpers and one drawn-out moan when TJ let go of his wrists and settled a hand between Quentin's legs instead, finding him so turned on that his pants were damp where he strained against them. "That's an interesting thought. Not much you can do to me like this, is there? You've got claws and fangs, but I could fuck you up pretty badly right now before you could even try to draw blood. What do you think?"
"TJ, please..." TJ lifted his head to discover Quentin so far gone in arousal that the emerald of his eyes was almost all pupil. He tipped his head back further, baring his throat. "Please fuck me," he begged, and TJ kissed him once, hard, bit at his throat, not hard, and reared back on his knees to flip Quentin facedown and peel his pants down and off. As soon as he wasn't laying on it, Quentin's tail started wagging hard, not like TJ had any difficulty telling how delighted he was. Quentin clawed his way to the head of the bed and dug under a pillow to find a bottle of lube and pitch it back to TJ. “Please,” he said again, and TJ couldn't get out of his own jeans fast enough.
“I've never done this before,” he said, catching Quentin's tail in one hand and holding it still at the center of his back. “What do I do so I don't hurt you?”
“Get your fingers slippery and put one in me… figure out how many fingers I need before I can take you.” Quentin yipped quietly when TJ pressed the first finger in. “Oh that's good. Mm. One of yours is like two of mine.”
“Well, I am just about twice your size,” TJ said, and Quentin’s tail wagged so hard TJ lost his grip on it.
“Believe me, I know,” Quentin said. “I'm acutely aware.” TJ caught Quentin's tail again, this time holding it between his muzzle and his shoulder, gratuitously burying his face in the soft brush of Quentin's bushy tail as he pushed another finger into Quentin's body as gently as he could. “Oh my god, TJ!”
“You're so tight… I'm afraid I'm going to hurt you if I do any more,” TJ said, and Quentin whined at the back of his throat.
“I don't care, I want it to hurt. It'll still feel good even if it hurts. Come on, please…” Quentin arched his back, reaching back with one paw to stroke TJ's muzzle. “Please. I'm begging you.”
“You don't have to beg,” TJ said, kissing Quentin's fingertips. “If you're sure that's what you want….”
“I'm going to cry if you don't.”
“Oh, stop. You might cry if I do.”
“Tears of joy, maybe.” Quentin wiggled his rump a little to encourage TJ to keep moving his fingers. “I don't want you to hold anything back. Rut me like you want to keep me forever.”
“I’d definitely hurt you if I did that,” TJ said, slowly working a third finger into Quentin. “I think you don’t know what deer are like on the rut.”
“You’re so wrong,” Quentin said, “I told you you had no idea how much porn I watch, that’s my favorite. Strong bucks out of their minds with passion.”
“You’re not a buck,” TJ reminded him, biting gently at his tail. “You’re a cute little masochistic fox who doesn’t actually know what he can handle, and I’m not going to be the one to break you.”
“I’m not cute.”
“You’re so cute. You’re cute from the tips of your ears to the end of your tail.” TJ nuzzled against Quentin’s tail as he eased his fingers out slowly to a low whine from the fox. “I might want to keep you, though. I like the thought of it. Having a sexy little fox on speed dial.” He moved to cover Quentin’s body with his own, laughing softly at the way Quentin pushed up onto his paws to rise and meet him. “What do you think? You want to be mine?” He teased the tip of his cock over Quentin’s entrance, just too little pressure to push in.
“Don’t toy with me,” Quentin growled, reaching up to prick his claws against TJ’s shoulder. “Yes. I might. But you don’t really.”
“Maybe I do,” TJ said, and Quentin’s only response was a howl of pleasure when TJ stopped teasing and took him in one slow, sweet thrust. TJ had to hold still when he bottomed out, shivering from how good it felt, and he nuzzled the top of Quentin's head, kissing his flattened ears. Quentin’s tail wrapped around TJ’s waist and the fox panted as he adjusted to getting exactly what he’d wanted.
“Touch me,” Quentin said, and TJ caressed a hand down the cream-colored fur of Quentin’s chest and belly before wrapping a hand around his cock. “Oh my god. Yeah, please.”
“So good…” TJ barely moved at first, but Quentin had no patience for careful handling, rocking forward and then back again with another yip. “Stop rushing,” TJ said, and Quentin shook his head.
“Stop wasting time,” he shot back, and TJ bit at the edge of one pulled back ear and made Quentin shudder with pleasure.
“Bossy little thing, aren’t you?”
“Stop calling me little.”
“Are you trying to annoy me into getting rough with you?” TJ asked with a laugh, and Quentin snorted and shifted underneath him.
“Will it work?”
“No.”
“Then that’s not what I’m doing. Come on, I’m not delicate, put your tail into it.”
“You’re so pushy. Can’t you just enjoy it?” TJ moved his hand a little faster, but kept his hips moving slowly. Quentin whined and dropped his head against his crossed arms, giving in gracelessly to the pace TJ set, and TJ nipped the back of his neck playfully. “You can’t blame me for wanting to savor this, can you?”
“I could…” Quentin yelped when TJ withdrew almost completely and thrust back in to the hilt in one smooth motion. “Fuck! Yeah, like that!” TJ had been planning on teasing him for a little while longer, but that thrust felt so good that he gave Quentin what he wanted after that, not being rough but being very enthusiastic about keeping the fox pinned to the bed and panting with pleasure underneath him.
Neither of them was experienced at this, and it was too good to last very long. Quentin lost control first, quickly overwhelmed by the fulfillment of his fantasy, and his climax drew out TJ’s a moment later, the buck tipping them both to one side so he wouldn’t crush Quentin underneath him. Quentin wriggled slightly, but TJ didn’t let go, cuddling him close in the afterglow, and Quentin settled down with a sigh and tipped his head back against TJ’s chest. “How was that?” TJ asked, nuzzling Quentin between his flattened ears.
“Go ahead and put me on your speed dial,” Quentin said, sounding dazed. “Cause I’m willing to do that again literally any time you want to.” He curled his fingers around TJ’s wrist, looking down at their hands. “Unless you were joking about that.”
“I’m not going to make you a booty call,” TJ said, stroking Quentin’s chest. “Unless that’s all you want.”
“What else could you possibly want from me?”
“I’d like to get to know you. I’m not really the hit-it-and-quit-it type.”
“We can’t date,” Quentin said, going very still in TJ’s arms. “We’d-- you’d never live it down. I don’t really care about my reputation but you probably do about yours.”
“A little notoriety might be good for me,” TJ said, sounding amused. “I can think of worse things for people to know me for than being in a relationship with a fox. Why, are you a terrible boyfriend? You do seem pretty demanding.”
“I’m not a very good one, according to my exes. But all my exes were pretty awful, so their word isn’t very good, either. I’m… I’m pretty weird.”
“We’ve established that fact already. I’m pretty weird too.”
“What are you like in a relationship?” TJ laughed and kissed the top of Quentin’s head again.
“Laid-back. Affectionate. Kind of a romantic. I like to make someone happy unless it’s at the expense of my own happiness.”
“You made me really happy tonight,” Quentin said softly. “Thank you for that.”
“I’d keep doing it if you wanted me to.”
“I wish you would.”
“Yeah? Then I will. Here, look at me…” When Quentin turned around, TJ kissed him, lazy with satisfaction. “Does that mean I can spend the night?”
“You want to?”
“I like to cuddle,” TJ said, “and if I stay then we can do something else tonight. Still lots of nighttime left, and like you said, we’re both nocturnal.”