Furry High (furry 'coming of age' story) R18+

10

The place was booming with sound. Kids were screaming in joy from the playground, sweaty employees called out orders impatiently. And customers shoved god-knows-what into their mouths without a care in the world.

I looked for a table at the entrance, but the otter walked ahead and sat down at a table that a fur was already occupying.
A fur who happened to be a border collie with more than enough muscle.
A fur, who ticked all the boxes belonging to a neat little rapist I knew.

"Hey, Southy. " Adrian said with a little wave.

I turned straight the fuck around and walked out the door, but after a series of frantic footsteps, a paw on my shoulder stopped me.
"No, please!" The otter cried.

His paw felt like fire on my shoulder, so I turned around slapped him firm across the face. He fell down a stack of bricks onto the pavement.

I shook out my paw with a grunt, massaged the burning sensation away from my shoulder and kept on walking away.
I didn't care if I had to walk the whole 45 minutes home, as long as it got me away from that dickhead inside.

But it was the words of the otter behind me that stopped me dead in my tracks.
"They'll kill me!"

I cursed under my breath and turned around.
"H...h-Who?"

The otter had loose tears on his cheeks, and a bloody good red mark on his left cheek.
"The furs who owned the weed you smoked last week."

I felt my blood go cold.
"W-What, like some f...f-furs at the campfire?"

"No..." He said, tears falling free at this point.
"No, no no no.... These aren't some highschool-pups, Skim."

I hesitated.

"Can we please just talk about this? That's all I want to do." He cried. He reached out a shaky paw and clutched at the dead cigarette I had knocked from his mouth.
"Please..."

"What's your name?" I asked abruptly.

He stood up slowly.
"Hunter."

"Huh... H-Hunter, these furs you're talking about..." I put some thought into how I'd say it: "Did they h-hurt you?"

He looked down at the pavement.
Cars zoomed past in the motorway, furs on their way to work, trying to provide something for their families. Trying to 'stay-afloat'.

The otter sniffled a set of fresh tears,
and nodded his head.

I peered into the shop and saw Adrian waiting for us the table. A young man, he was. A handsome one too.
"F-Fuck..." I muttered.
I looked back at Hunter before I turned around and yelled out in a full meltdown, kicking at rocks in the car park through a fit of rage.
"FUCK!"

He could only watch, chin quivering - you know how it goes.

"Fuh, f-fine I'll fucking talk..."

He chuckled with relief.
"Thank you."

If there was ever a moment where I looked like a cowboy in my life, it would have been when I busted through the doors of Burger Palace that day.
I'm talkin' the real deal: busting open the automatic doors with two paws, legs spread, nonexistent revolver rattling in my waist.

Adrian, oh Adrian... This town ain't big enough for the two of us...

I sat down opposite the sheep-dog with a thud.
He grinned stupidly.
"I've missed you."

I snickered, my eyes trickling with pent-up anger.
"That makes one of us."

The otter wiped his face, lit up his smoke and sat down too.
He looked around with wonder.
"Do you know what I find weird about places like this?"