Lyx keeps pushing for some spicy action. I reluctantly give in. We do all sorts of fun stuff, and then he goes down on me. After I blow my load, I cut him off—no way am I going further. Good old Lyx never forces me, so he just keeps begging. I shut him down flat. So he uses my hand to take care of himself instead.
I’m not totally heartless—I don’t always eat and run. Sometimes, when I’m in the mood, I let him go all the way. Yeah, maybe it’s selfish and cheap, but hey, men will be men.
But seriously, why does it take so long to get to the good part? Stop nibbling at my sides and just suck my cock already!
“Lyx…”
I can’t take it anymore, so I gently push his head down. His golden eyes meet mine, smirking like he can read my mind. Damn it. He glances at my crotch and asks, “Want me to suck you off, K?”
Aaaaaah! I scream internally. Oh my god. The smooth, gorgeous, actual Crown Prince just looked at my cock and asked if he could suck it. Amen.
I freeze as his breath teases my cock. He hovers just above it, staring at me, waiting for me to say the words.
Just do it already! Or—no, just DO IT!
“K?” His voice is low, husky. His hot breath sends shivers down my spine.
I sigh inwardly. Does desire always win over dignity? Is a horny man’s pride really so fragile that it crumbles at the mere thought of a blowjob?
“…Suck it.” I mutter, wanting to vanish into a mousehole. Lyx tilts his head. “Where, exactly, K?”
Oh, so we’re playing this game now? He’s waiting. Stubbornly. Like he’ll die before he moves.
Fine. You win, you pervert.
A man must always be dignified. I clench my fists and say, as regally as I can: “Suck my cock!”
…You’re dead after this.
***
Simon. Don’t you think men are such tragic creatures?
We live and die by our pride, yet we’ll toss it aside for a single blowjob. I hate to admit it, but it’s the truth. And as a man myself… men are pathetic.
I sigh, staring into the fireplace. Simon sighs beside me. Two friends, sitting side by side, just sighing into the void.
But last night? Divine.
Who knew such a sweet guy could work his tongue like that? He didn’t even need instructions—just knew exactly what to do. Sucking my cock with one hand rolling my balls, the other teasing my nipples. Multitasking genius. Just thinking about it makes me hard again. Yeah, no way I’m surviving tonight without begging for round two.
I chew on some chicken jerky, lost in the memory. “Haa…” Simon sighs again.
I glance at him. Poor guy. Here I am, getting premium head from my boyfriend, while he’s still a clueless virgin who can’t even talk to the girl he likes. Pathetic.
Lyx taught me something: not all men are created equal. Only those who’ve burned through the night with a lover truly understand what it means to be a man. By that standard, Simon’s just a big, muscular cherry boy.
I should probably feel bad for him. A friend’s misery is my joy, but as a fellow man… it hurts.
Do I really have to give up Julia for his sake? Could I actually let go of her perfect, pillowy chest?
Suddenly, I’ve got too much on my mind. My fur’s thinning. The Simon-Julia dilemma. None of it’s easy.
…Speaking of fur, is it better now? I’ve been loading up on nutrients for days. It should be improving by now. The ball is in two days—I need to look flawless.
I stand and check myself in the mirror. My whiskers? Impeccable, as always. Nose? Moist. Fangs? Sharp. Chest fur? Luxurious. I ooze charisma. I swish my tail, inspect my paws—flawless. My back fur, which Julia said was dull, now gleams. The high-protein jerky must be working. Two more days of feasting, and I’ll be radiant.
Thank god. If Julia hadn’t pointed it out, I’d have shown up to the ball looking like a scruffy mess. My pride would’ve taken a serious hit. Julia really is irreplaceable.
Meow…
Simon, does my fur look okay? I turn slowly in front of him. He glances at me, then sighs again. Normally, I’d smack him for ignoring me, but… too sad. I pat his shoulder instead. Cheer up, buddy. Not giving up Julia, though. Sorry.
My pep talk does nothing. His sighs just get louder.
I leave him behind and head for Lyx’s study. He hates being alone, and I hate leaving him alone. Even if I’m out having fun, I always rush back to him.
I stride gracefully—too gracefully—through the halls, feeling eyes on me from every direction. Humans stare. I’m used to attention, but today it’s annoying. I want to sprint to Lyx, but I can’t. If I slip up and someone sees me running to him like some lovesick kitten, my reputation is toast. I’m a cool, city cat, dammit.
…Oh. Duke Licht.
I pause. The old man is lurking in the middle of the hallway, craning his neck. He hasn’t spotted me yet—his eyesight’s terrible. He’s clearly waiting for Simon again. Used to lurk in the garden, but now that it’s winter, he’s moved indoors. Pathetic. If he misses Simon so much, why not just apologize and take him home?
“Oh! There you are.” He greets me warmly, peering past me for Simon. His shoulders slump when he doesn’t see him. Ugh. It reminds me of my grandpa, waiting for me. My heart twists.
I decide to give him a special treat. I rub my face against his calf, and he chuckles instantly. I gaze up and meow sweetly. Delighted, he scoops me up. His chest smells like… Grandpa.
I bury my nose in his robe. The scent, the rough pats on my back—it feels like Grandpa. I should go to Lyx, but… I don’t want to move.
Grandpa’s smell or Lyx? I hesitate.
The old man makes up my mind for me.
