He flopped down on the arm of the couch, beer bottle in hand, and went to take a sip when he discovered it was almost empty. He scowled at it briefly then drained its contents and stretched out his arm to place it on the table.

He sat back and leaned against the wall. The party hadn’t long started and already he was bored. He’d never been one for dancing music and finery; he’d rather go to a bar and listen to rock over a game of pool.

He scanned the room. There weren’t many people indoors, as the band was outside, and most had come in simply to warm up and freshen their drinks.

Just then Tristen came in with an armful of empty bottles and headed for the kitchen. Tallir grinned wryly. ‘Always the busy host’ he thought, shaking his head. Tristen ran himself off his feet most of the time, and why he couldn’t just sit back and enjoy his own party was beyond even Tallir. Though, he supposed, it was probably better to have something to do: Sitting around at a fancy party was incredibly dull, to him at least.

Tristen emerged with a tray of new bottles, dripping with condensation, fresh and cool, just out the fridge. It made Tallir fancy another himself, but it was best to stay sober, or Detra would undoubtedly talk him into something he’d regret. He sighed and sat forward. Detra never let him drink in peace anymore and it was beginning to grate. Not that while he was getting drunk Detra wasn’t his best friend in the world: buying him drinks, making him laugh; it was just that the boy was forever getting into trouble at bars, and- despite being a better fighter than most even when pissed- Tallir didn’t fancy another tussle with a bouncer just ‘cause Detra didn’t know that no meant no. He growled quietly to himself; not only was Detra infuriating at best, but he couldn’t keep his hands off anything in a short skirt.

Looking up he saw Aki talking to a tall dog-rathe with glasses, and she seemed to be flirting quite heavily. The Rathe smiled in return and lightly stroked her arm. Tallir grimaced at him; he seemed not at all like Aki’s type, and a little overweight as well, but then what was Aki’s type? He’d never seen her flirt like this before. Oh well, each to her own, he decided, and sat back against the wall once more.

Other than Aki he recognised few. Just who had invited these people? There were some Rathes, a couple wolves he’d seen before but hadn’t really met, and the rest were strangers.

After a few minutes, numbers indoors dwindled. There were three tall slender Rathe girls talking by the kitchen door, and he noticed Aki’s new interest spare a glance back at them as he returned to the festivities. Tal sighed judgingly, and hoped he didn’t cause Aki any trouble.

The giggling trio didn’t hold his attention for long, just long enough for him to notice their mini-skirts and worry what Detra would do about it later. There were another group of three by the front door, he noticed, and he turned to observe them. They weren’t all identical-looking like the first group by the kitchen. One was a short but curvaceous albino-rathe, one had wavy raven hair, and all three had long elegant dresses, but it was the third girl who caught his eye.

She had dark skin; impeccably smooth with a bronze glow in the dim light, beautiful white teeth with darling little fangs, and she was obviously a demi-rathe, as her jet hair was dotted with bright colour. It was pulled back high away from her pretty face, and cascaded down her neck in thick shiny black curls. But it was her eyes he couldn’t help but stare at; even from the side, they sparkled. She smiled and laughed at something, and shook her beautiful head, making her curls dance.

His eyes wandered from her dancing curls to her bare shoulders, her chest moving as she laughed, but held tight by her blue and black corset. Her long skirt was draped pleasingly over her long legs, and a long black-and-spotted tail with fluffy white under-fur curled absentmindedly across her thighs.

He suddenly noticed he was gaping at her, and had even leant in towards the group. He shifted uncomfortably and felt his face grow hot. He hadn’t looked at a girl with such intensity since... well, he’d rather not think about that. He’d been happily celibate for almost four years since then and had hardly a sexual thought in that time, so he couldn’t help but blush as the thought about kissing this lovely creature’s neck.

He was looking at the carpet like a schoolboy with a crush, and he scolded himself. ‘You are embarrassing yourself and being a bloody idiot in general. Look at the girl if you want to, nothing’s stopping you. Move on, for Rathém’s sake man.’

He looked back at her as her two companions rose and sauntered back towards the party, and his eyes didn’t stray from her. She watched them go with a certain sadness in her smile that betrayed she enjoyed the company of others, and her eyes drifted from them to her surroundings. She looked about her with that mild curiosity inherent to felines, and he grinned at her. His smile faded as time slowed down and her perfect face turned towards him, and those glittering azure sapphires met his eyes.

She seemed a little startled, and smiled self-consciously, glancing away then back. He grinned at her with a mix of affection and amusement and tilted his head to one side. Well, he could either continue to stare at her, or he could ‘get over it’ and speak to her. He wasn’t even sure which when he got to his feet, his legs shaking a lot less that he’d expected, and walked over to her.

She said goodbye to the girls as they went outside to dance. Palowin had never been one for crowds and noise, but she did love meeting people, and she loved to dance. Not so much shaking about by a bonfire, but real dancing: dances with steps, choreography, requiring skill and grace, dances to be learned. Her eyes distractedly wandered round the room, taking in the calming blue of the walls and the tranquillity of the room. It was reasonably quiet back here, she could hear the band yes but it wasn’t blaring. It was also a pleasant temperature; it was too cold outside for her to have worn a corset, which she’d realised soon after arriving.

Then she found his eyes.

Two translucent drops of green amber stared back at her from a short distance away. They belonged to a gorgeous upper class albino-rathe, tall and pale with a face like chiselled marble. His hair was tied back, but a few stray strands of platinum fell over his fine face. She smiled and looked away, embarrassed, and when she looked again, she saw his eyes smiling back and felt a little flutter in her chest. He grinned in a beautifully sly way, and rose from the couch. My he was tall, and so handsome, and had a couple buttons undone at the top of his baggy black shirt, she noticed with a slight blush, hinting at a flat alabaster chest.

He walked over, his strides lacking some of their usual confidence, and sat down in a chair beside hers.

“Hi, I’m Tallir.”

He offered a long-fingered and exquisitely clawed hand, and she shook it.

He couldn’t stop looking in her eyes as he took her hand, with its small palm, long delicately tapered-fingers and beautifully polished French-tipped nails, though he couldn’t fail to notice the refined movement in her wrist.

“Palowinetna, but call me Palowin, please.”

He smiled knowingly: her name meant ‘white fluffy tail’

“I can certainly see where you get your name from, Palowin.”

She felt a familiar flutter as he said her name for the first time, and nearly got lost in his eyes. She realised then that she was still holding his hand.

“And I can see where you get yours,” she retorted, lifting his hand with hers and nodding to his claws, before releasing her grip.

--Yeah, so stuff happens, they go to bed. I apologise for the gap but this is only an extract. Next morning:--

Detra stirred discontentedly, trying to stay in the blissful warm darkness of sleep. Eventually though, he was merely lying awake with his eyes closed. He grimaced, defeated, and opened his eyes. The dawn light stung and he was forced to close them again; funny how he felt more awake in the morning with his eyes shut than closed, he thought. He blinked rapidly, adjusting to the morning. His room was dimly lit in a pinky-orange glow, and hazy rays of morning sun stretched some distance across his room only to fall lazily on the floor. ‘Not unlike myself in a few minutes,’ he joked, but he was too sleepy to smile at his fun.

He looked out the nearest window at the sky as it grew ever blue in wake of the dawn. A draft filtered in and he could smell another crisp, clear- and cold- morning. He had to admit, even he liked Ravendale. He was always first to complain about the temperature- it was often a lot cooler than he was used to- but there was hardly a cloud in the sky and it rarely rained. He liked that about the place; like most Rathes, he hated the rain.

He stretched and rolled over. Despite the amount of pretty tail at the party last night, he hadn’t been able to talk a single one into bed, and had woken up alone- as always. But Detra was never discouraged in this plight: No use dwelling on it, maybe he’d fair better next time.

He resignedly drew back the covers with a little groan and sat on the edge of the bed. He let his head droop and rested his arms on his thighs, collecting himself. After a moment he sat upright and inhaled deeply, ruffling his hair into a neater position and getting to his feet. He picked his jeans up off the floor and shook them off. After carefully zipping them closed he grabbed a tank top from a pile of clothes at the foot of his bed. He sniffed it quickly and evidently decided it was wearable, as he struggled into it while making his way quickly to the door.

He stepped quietly into the hall and pulled his top down properly before closing the door. He padded along the corridor, making a beeline for the kitchen. What a mess, he noted of the living room as he passed.

Someone had at least attempted to tidy the kitchen, probably Tristen. Empty bottles had been collected in a cardboard box by the sink and most of the left over food had been covered over and either left on the worktops or stacked in the fridge. Detra opened the fridge and bent down to peer into it, nosing around and pushing plates aside until he found something appealing. He pulled out a tray of cold pizza and peeled back the cling film. He cocked his head at it in a dog-like way. Ok, maybe ‘appealing’ was too strong a word, and he kicked the fridge shut. He threw the cling film away and quickly warmed it in the microwave, watching the it rotate through the glass with a childish impatience and curiosity.

He took the tray and flopped down into Tristen’s leather chair. As he half-heartedly chewed Tallir emerged from his room. ‘Topless as usual,’ he remarked to himself and sighed, ‘I may not be popular round here but at least I have some decency.’

“Morning.” Detra said as Tal approached, though a mouthful of pizza.

“Morning.” Tallir replied, not looking at Detra but instead opening the towel cupboard and taking one.

“Good night?” Detra asked as he swallowed.

“Mm.”

Detra could see he was just looking to answer quickly and leave, and so didn’t inquire further. He went back to his pizza and watched Tallir tread heavily out the back door to the river. Tallir wasn’t the best conversationalist before a shower, infact, he was just as likely to maul Detra’s face as say ‘Morning’. He took another bite, and nudged a few empty bottles on the coffee table aside so he could put his feet up. After another slice he heard a door open down the hall. He wondered who it could be; even he and Tallir weren’t usually up this early, although they were often the first up. He glanced up the hall and stopped mid-chew.

Out of Tallir’s room stepped a dark-skinned beauty with long tousled hair, occasionally dotted with colour. Despite the fact that she was a demi-rathe, he still found himself looking her up and down. She turned from the door and tip toed down the hall. She stopped dead when she noticed him staring.

“Oh, hi,” she smiled shyly, trying to pull Tallir’s shirt down lower over her long and nicely shaped legs, only serving to show more cleavage, which of course Detra had no objection to.

The shirt was even baggier on her than it was on Tallir, but Detra could still discern her wonderfully well-rounded figure- not that she was overweight; far from it. Still, Detra wasn’t usually one for curvy girls, or tall girls, or cats for that matter- he liked them short, slim and canine- but he just had to admit, Tallir had certainly bagged a pretty one.

“Um… pizza?” he offered, mouth slightly full again.

She giggled coyly, and stepped over to take a slice.

“Uh, well, have a seat,” he smiled, and gestured to the sofa.

She sat and adjusted the shirt to cover her modesty most effectively, pressing her legs together. Detra wondered with an interested smirk if it was because she was wearing only Tallir’s shirt, but he’d better not ask. For one, she could get offended, and for two, if Tallir found out, Detra could lose an eye.

She looked about the room and nibbled her pizza in a way that said she was hungry, but well-mannered. Detra watched her and wondered if she was higher class than just a demi-rathe. This however would, of course, make her a half-breed. Half cat, half dog, he wondered, and observed her body looking for more physical clues. Naturally though, looking at her body was a distraction in itself, and he decided to leave it for now.

“So, um, you and Tallir?”

“Well, as you can guess.” She gestured somewhat modestly to the shirt, and Detra nodded his approval.

“Oh, and I’m Detra by the way,” he said, reaching over to shake her hand.

“Palowin,” she replied, leaning forward.

The opportunity came then for Detra to discretely look down her shirt, but in her humility she had put her other hand over her chest to hold the shirt in place. Well, maybe he’d get a better look once she relaxed.

“Has he been by here? I woke up and, he-, he wasn’t there.”

She sounded concerned, and Detra guessed a few guys had loved her and left her before. Poor thing. He felt a little sorry for her. Maybe he should say something, to cushion the blow before she got the brush off… No, best leave it. Tallir would be back soon anyways, so not long til she’d be sent packing.

“Um, yeah. He went outside a little while ago to shower.”

“Outside?” She raised her eyebrows.

“There’s a waterfall; he’s odd like that.” Detra shrugged.

“Oh… Well, um, I don’t wanna sound all girly here but, did he say anything about me?” she asked self-consciously.

Now he had to say something.

“Listen, um, Palowin was it?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Well… I just don’t think you should get your hopes up. You know what young Rathes can be like and all, and a guy like Tallir must have girls trailing him wherever he goes, and…”

She nodded slowly. Detra knew that look. It said “same old story”.

“I can see I’m not telling you anything new, I just thought a bit of a heads up might help.”

She smiled at him, sadly but genuinely, and Detra was caught a little off guard by her beauty. He even forgot all about trying to look down her shirt.

“That’s very… considerate, of you.”

There was a moment of silence before footsteps could be heard on the ramp outside, and they both looked to the door. Tallir stepped in, towelling his hair as he went.

“Oh, Palowin, you’re up.”

“Yeah, I-, I’ll leave in a second.”

“Hm. You sure? You don’t want breakfast or anything?”

“Oh it’s ok, I’ve had something.”

Detra lifted the tray helpfully.

“I’ll just grab my clothes and be on my way,” she said, and got up.

“…Alright.” Tallir said, and she moved quickly down the hall.

“What was that about?” Tallir asked, watching her as she closed his door behind her.

“Dunno, maybe she’s just, in a rush?”

Tallir was too distracted to notice Detra’s obvious lie. He just stared at his bedroom door and thought hard.

“Do you think it was… me?” he asked, more to himself than to Detra.

‘It has… ‘been a while’,’ he thought, ‘Maybe, well… What if I-? Did I, do something wrong? Was it something I did physically or, did I just give the wrong impression by not talking much afterwards?’

Detra had never seen doubt on Tallir’s face before. He’d always seemed so confident- though cocky, smug and arrogant were the widely preferred terms- and Detra had sort of looked up to him for it. Tallir was almost his hero, as well as his friend, and Detra had never felt the elder of the two.

He had to tell him.

“Well, dude, I sorta, um…”

Tallir turned his head slowly, and looked daggers at him.

“What, did you do?” His tone was a threat, so Detra knew he had better spit it out.

“Well, I may have, hinted, at the prospect that, you, weren’t looking for a relationship…?”

Detra found himself receding into the chair under Tallir’s deadly glare.

Just then Palowin emerged in her dress and rustled quietly down the hall, making them both look up.

Tal turned on Detra and whispered “I’ll deal with you shortly,” then he moved to join Palowin as she reached the front door.

“Palowin wait, I-“

“Oh it’s ok, you don’t have to say anything,” she said, trying to sound as casual as possible, “we had a great night, really, so I’ll just go and not ruin it with a lot of talk.”

Her heart sank with every word. They had had a great night, but oh how she didn’t want it to end there. She looked up at him. He was so handsome. His hair looked even better down, and even though it was wet and clung together in damp strands, it still flowed perfectly straight past his shoulders. His strong shoulders, she sighed, his strong arms that had held her, his graceful hands that had so gently caressed her skin, his flat chest and long slender torso that she had been pressed against but a few hours ago. She darted back to his eyes; such an alluring shade of green, and they had turned to gold in the candlelight of his bedroom. And his lips, which she had loved to kiss. Loved. The word hit her with a strange clarity. Was she in-?

Her thoughts were cut short as those lips formed a little smile. His hand went to her chin and lifted her face to his. He kissed her and she melted into him, feeling her breath leave her body. Their lips parted slowly, and he touched her nose with his, then he said with such softness

“Palowin, I would love to see you again.”

Her spirits lifted.

“Really?” she breathed.

“Yes. Ignore whatever Detra said to you, he is an absolute moron I assure you.”

She smiled into his eyes and remembered their night. It had been so passionate and tender; the way he’d looked at her hadn’t been with fleeting lust, but with a fondness and respect that made the experience all the sweeter. How could she have doubted him? Of course he hadn’t intended on just one night. Perhaps he hadn’t even intended on that night, it had all happened so fast. But once he shut his bedroom door and locked it behind him, everything became slow motion. There had been only the candles and the fireplace for light, and everything had a soft surreal golden glow. The way they’d undressed each other, the length of their kisses, the entire night was captured frame-by-frame in her mind. Never before had she been… worshiped, like that… like a goddess.

She blushed a little as she snapped back to reality, but Tallir grinned shrewdly down at her as though he knew exactly what she’d been thinking. He kissed her again, but a little harder, his hands moving to her hips, and she did the same. He was making a point that this wasn’t just one night, while at the same time promising more nights, and the thought left her a little breathless and giddy.

She smiled widely as their lips parted and grasped for the door handle. After a few failed attempts to feel it out, she had to tear herself away from his eyes and take hold of it properly.

“Well, you know where I am,” he smiled, “come round anytime, I’ll treat you to dinner or something.”

She still felt a little flighty, but managed a sincere “I’d like that.”

She looked in his eyes for a few moments more, before she turned to open the door and stepped outside.

“Well, bye,”

“Bye.” And he kissed her a quick final time, enjoying the little swoon she sighed as she closed the door.

He stood there smiling for a moment, before turning to see Detra peering anxiously over the top of the chair, and his face turned once more to steel.

“uh-oh,” Detra winced.

“You.” It didn’t take him more than a few quick strides to reach Detra, who couldn’t scramble out of the chair fast enough before Tallir yanked his collar with both hands and pulled him up so they were face-to-face.

“Don’t you EVER make any more stereotypical assumptions about me. I may be upper class but I do NOT go round screwing random chicks just ‘cause I can.”

He gave Detra a disgusted shove as he released him, making him fall back into the chair with an “Oomf!”

Tallir dropped onto the sofa where Palowin had been sitting and folded his arms, stewing bitterly. Detra re-arranged his top, but couldn’t help but feel he’d gotten off incredibly light. He looked at Tallir. Tallir wasn’t looking at him. He was staring fixedly out the back door. Was Tallir being, huffy, with him? Detra stared at him disbelievingly. He wasn’t mad that Detra had made him doubt himself or nearly lost him a girlfriend or even that he’d upset Palowin; he was hurt that Detra would think such a thing about him.

“Dude, I’m sorry. It was a stupid thing of me to assume, but, you know, looking like you do… I just, never met a rathe who didn’t enjoy a one-night-stand.”

“Well, now you have.”

Tallir continued to sulk.

Detra leaned forward and tried to redeem himself.

“She is pretty cute, you know, for a cat.”

Tallir smiled, but still didn’t look at him.

“This the first time since that girl who broke your heart?”

Tal paused for a moment, then nodded grimly; the memory obviously still pained him.

“So, this was a pretty big deal for you?”

“Mm.”

“Sorry I was such a jerk.”

“It’s ok.” He sighed.

“So, how long had it been? You know, since the last ‘time’?”

“About four years.”

“Four years!” Detra laughed, “You sure you still know where everything goes?”

That made Tallir look at him alright, and Detra raised his hands.

“Sorry again.”

Tallir turned away slowly, his eyes lingering on Detra in a threatening way.

They sat in silence for a moment before Detra remarked “Damn.”

“What?”

“I didn’t get a good look down her top after all.”

Now Tallir really did look like he was going to hit him, and Detra sank fearfully into the chair again.

“Um… pizza?”