A/N: This story is about anthropomorphic animals or furries. All characters have both animal and human traits. If that is not your vibe you have been warned.
The best place in Raidal to look for a quick and dirty hook-up was the Glacier-- a tiny gay bar on the east end of the city. With no other weekend plans, that was Jack's destination on a Friday night in October.
Jack had grown tired of the dating apps he tried. He found little fun in chatting up guys for five days at a time just to get some dick. It took too long with dating apps, and if he went to the seedier ones, half the men there spoke like bots and ghosted him in minutes.
He preferred a face-to-face stranger, with no names or real-life information shared between them. Nothing but hot and heavy sex in a bathroom or back alley. The Glacier was somewhere he could find that.
It was almost 10:00 PM according to the alarm clock on his nightstand. The anthro deer stood in front of a mirror checking himself out for the tenth time. He wore a pair of distressed black jeans that hugged his ass and let his fluffy white tail hang out from the back. The loose denim was cinched tight around his waist with a studded leather belt. His shirt was a mesh button-up tucked into his shirt. Through the fine black mesh, one could see his nipple rings.
Jack had showered earlier that day, and after an hour of deliberating over his outfit, his hair and fur were almost completely dry. He reached up and tossed back the mess of clay-red curls on his head. His shoulder-length hair spilled in waves around the base of his antlers. Eight points jutted proudly into the air from the top of his head encircled and accented with gold jewelry.
He spun around once more and flipped his tail up to check out his butt. Still round and perky.
Satisfied, he threw a jacket on and put a few packets of lube and a condom into the pocket. His phone and wallet went into his jeans, and his keys hooked on one of his belt loops.
Jack ordered a taxi on his phone and went downstairs to wait for it. His apartment building was a twenty-minute walk from the Glacier, but he preferred to ride in a car on cold nights like tonight.
He sat down on the steps of his building. The app told him his driver was eleven minutes away. That was long enough for him to smoke a cigarette, so he pulled one from the breast pocket of his jacket. He lit it with the matchbox he kept in there as well. The first drag of smoke sent him coughing into his elbow, but the second warmed him right up. He perched the cigarette between his index and middle fingers and put his elbows on his knees.
Between puffing out clouds of smoke, he inhaled the cold fall air. He kept his ears pinned back against the breeze and his head down to avoid catching any attention. There were hardly any anthros to pay attention to him in the first place though. The sidewalk was littered with leaves, cigarette butts, and beer cans. Two cats walked down the sidewalk away from him, and a lone dog leaned against a lamppost across the street.
His part of town was far from clean, the biggest issue with getting anyone to come over. As soon as a potential date heard he lived on the lower east side of the city they usually ghosted him.
He liked the place, though most other people called his neighborhood trashy. It was what he could afford.
Jack smoked two-thirds of his cigarette before his taxi arrived. When the small brown car pulled up, he sighed and got to his feet. He stubbed out the remaining tobacco and tossed it into a nearby overflowing trash can. The passenger side window rolled down.
"You Mr. Yates?" A feminine cockatoo with a heavy smoky eye and a low-cut shirt leaned over the center console and showed her phone to him. On her screen was the taxi confirmation number, which matched the one on his phone.
"That's me," he nodded.
"Get in the back," she said, gesturing with her thumb to the back seat. He did as directed.
Her car smelled like ash and Cheerios, an odd combination until he noticed the small booster seat on the opposite side of the car. The cockatoo tapped something into her phone and set it on her dashboard.
"Do you mind if I smoke, Mr. Yates?"
"Ah, no. Go ahead," he nodded.
The driver stuck a white stick of tobacco in her mouth and flicked her lighter to light it. Once it burst to life, she put the car in drive and pulled off of the curb. Jack put his seatbelt on and leaned against the door.
The drive was shorter than the time he spent waiting, and soon the taxi pulled off to the side of the road again.
"Total is 6.58 credits," she rasped as she blew smoke out the open window.
Jack's phone pinged in agreement. He opened the app again and paid her through its payment options. He left a tip to round up to eight credits. Once she waved him off, he got out of the car.
The Glacier was still a walk away, though that was hardly the taxi's fault. The bar was nestled in an alley inaccessible to any car. He had to pass the bar's dumpster to begin his trek to the entrance. The alleyway reeked of smoke and piss, and it was easy to see why. Anthros smoking all manner of legal and illegal substances lined the walls. Some drunkards leaned against the buildings as well, a few with their pants undone to release a stream of urine against the wall.
The dirty atmosphere sent a chill of excitement through the buck. He hadn't come here in two years, and it was no different than when he had left. Anthros were so loose here and minded their own business. Everyone had fun in their way here-- be it smoking pot or sucking someone off behind a dumpster.
Jack kept to the boards and broken pallets that kind strangers had laid down to help folks stay out of the puddles that accumulated here. He nodded silent greetings to the friendlier animals in the alleyway.
He came to a metal door that had once been painted black, pulled down the handle, and wrenched it open Past the door was a dimly lit hall and a wood stairwell. He bounded up the steps to reach the second floor.
From the hallway, he could hear the pulsing music and drunken voices. A bouncer in a leather jacket stood outside the door at the end of the hall. He only looked up once Jack had gotten within arm's reach. Jack opened his wallet and offered his I.D. to the bear, who inspected it for a moment and handed it back with an affirmative grunt and nod. He had permission to enter.
It felt like entering another world when Jack passed through the door into the Glacier. The interior was dim, lit mostly by the neon signs along the walls. The bar on the right side of the room was packed with anthros, the three bartenders slinging drinks at breakneck speeds to keep up with the thirsty crowd.
On the other side of the room was what Jack considered the lounge. Three leather booths lined the wall, and there were several wooden bistro tables between them and the tile dance floor. Many of the seats on that side were filled with older men in leather who sipped on beer and hard liquor. Men were grinding on each other in the booths and sharing dirty secrets under the loud music between drinks.
Those men were Jack's prime target. He knew the leather daddies could give him a good romp with no strings attached, and they had plenty of experience.
