The Roommates

This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially. These stories have been public for some time, but I am slowly uploading my back catalogue of stories currently.

This story does not contain sexual intercourse.

*****

At any time of day, The One Stop Coffee Shop was full to the brim with customers; every fur passing by seemed to have a few minutes spare to sit and drink or grab a take-away cup on the go. The ever-changing atmosphere and clientele was one of the reasons that Tazmania, a young zebra-donkey hybrid, loved this particular coffee shop, despite there being several other options nearby. Racing through a cold deluge of summer rain, she sprinted into the coffee shop, skidding to a halt scarcely in time to avoid bumping into a well-dressed business fur in a suit and tie. Far from being dressed to impress, Taz was outfitted comfortably in royal blue three-quarter length trousers, a plain grey t-shirt and a loose, aquamarine, hooded sweatshirt in one of the larger sizes. She was not the thinnest of furs, truth be told, and, unlike some, was not proud of her curves. When given the choice, she would always choose to conceal her body beneath layers of clothing even throughout the usually warm summer months.

Sweeping the hood back from her muzzle, the zedonk clopped noisily over to the ever-present notice board, wincing at the clamour that her hooves made upon the smooth floor. Pulling a carefully folded square of paper from her pocket, she held it up and unfolded it along the smooth creases, helping herself to a spare, red pin from the cork board. She pinned her small, hastily written notice right in the centre, surreptitiously moving a couple of other notes for cleaning services to make room for hers, although she hoped that nobody would notice her sly move.

She pressed the corners of the note flat and, satisfied, trotted to the counter, intending to grab something to drink while she was there; there were some things in life that a girl just could not pass by when opportunity presented itself.

"Hey, Taz," a lion with a dark brown mane greeted her from behind the counter as he wiped down the surface, soaking up one of many accidental coffee spills. "How're you doing?"

"All right, Dave, thanks," she said, leaning forward and scanning over the special coffees of the day. "And you? Anything been happening?"

"Not really," he chuckled. "Same old: work, work, work and home again. What can I get for you?"

"Raspberry iced tea, please."

"Iced tea? From a coffee shop?" Dave teased.

Taz smiled self-consciously, tapping the fingers of one paw absent-mindedly against the back of other one, ears perked forward eagerly at the prospect of getting one of her favourite drinks. Half-turning as he added ice to her drink, Dave glanced over at the notice board, which was partially obscured by bustling customers, many of which left empty cups and crumpled napkins on their tables; he sighed, contemplating making a sweep around the room to clear said tables, though he did not think that he should not have to work harder to make laziness tidy.

"What did you put up over there?" He asked, nodding towards the notice board.

"Sarah's moving out," Taz said, her ears drooping. "She's moving in with that boyfriend of hers, the husky. More power to her, I say, but I don't know how she can do it when she's only been with him for a couple of months. It's so, so...strange."

"Ah, well, furs in love and all that," Dave waved off the behaviour, clearly in the same camp as Taz on this subject. "Sorry to hear that you're without a roommate though. With the amunt of furs that go through here from day to day, I'm sure you'll pick up a new one before long. Just hope they're not crazy like that damn billy goat you had before."

Grimacing, Taz inclined her head in agreement. The billy goat, which Dave was referring to, was a peculiar, old roommate that she had briefly taken in for under a single month. He had walked in on her in the shower several times, claiming that he had 'not realised' that the room was occupied, whined for a share of her dinner every night, never bought his own groceries and took great pains to touch her inappropriately, which was ultimately the deal breaker in Taz' mind. Unnerved and afraid of the molestation, Taz had evicted him swiftly with the help of the police and the couple of friends that had witnessed his leery behaviour. She could not be gladder to be rid of the weird creature who had not had a kind word for anyone and paws for anything female.

"Are you working the afternoon shift?" Dave placed her iced tea beside her paw, tapping the amount into the till.

"Yep," she said with a small sigh. "The surgery calls, receptionist duty as per usual, ugh. Got to go home to change before I head over."

"Ah, shame," he said sympathetically as she took her cup and placed the payment in his palm, along with a fair tip. "Take care and stop by again soon, okay?"

"Will do, Dave. Have a good one," she called, stepping away from the counter and making her way through the crowd.

Heading out the door, she sipped at the cool drink, ducking her head into the rain and hoping that it would not be too busy at the surgery, though that was likely to be a futile hope. The afternoon surgery was always packed with coughing, sniffling and whining furs along with the quietly sick ones, who sat with their muzzles bowed, waiting and conserving energy until their names were called. Snorting and tugging her hood back up over her head, Taz walked into the slanting wall of rain, drink cradled close to her body.

She did not notice the llama darting into the coffee shop as the door swung closed, the slender fur squeezing in through the small gap with a hair's breadth to spare. Behind her ran an equally slim mouse girl, toned as if she jogged or took part in some light, regular exercise. As if she had been forgetful of the unpredictable weather, the llama wore a shockingly tiny pair of hot pink shorts and a sleeveless grey tank top with a bright motive splashed across the front. In her ears were two large, gold hoops and, unusually, there was also a hoop serving as a nose piercing. Her body was partially revealed by her scant clothing, with her light brown fur ruffled and the cream underbelly, forearms and lower legs darkened from the downpour. She stared around the coffee shop with her sharp blue eyes before flopping into a recently vacated seat by the window and dropping her muzzle on to her upturned palm.

Her mouse friend, dressed in similar but darker attire, sat opposite her, scraping the chair back inconsiderately over the linoleum. A frazzled waiter ran up to take their order - two large coffees, one with cream, one without, both with sugar and milk, thank you - and dashed away as frantically, tripping over his own feet as he tried to serve the customers that were sitting down in the coffee shop; only take-away customers went to the counter in The One Stop Coffee Shop.

"Jeezuz," the mouse breathed, whiskers twitching. "It is freaking heaving in here! Sure you don't want to get take-away, Olive?"

"Yeah," Olive answered, her ears drooping. "My legs are killing after running. I never seem to get any fitter or used to it, whatever I do. Besides...do you wanna go back out in that right now?" She jerked her thumb at the rain and, as if to emphasise her point, a roll of thunder pealed out, encouraging the few furs outside to quicken their steps.

They chatted while they waited for their coffee, making several complaints about the weather and comments on some of the younger male furs that were ordering coffee. The mouse rubbed her paws together, blowing on them to warm up the pale grey fur while she chattered about a boyfriend, who she said was taking her out dancing that night, just the two of them. In the midst of this, Dave the lion padded over with a smile and a flirty wink for Olive, placing their coffees lightly upon the table. When he had departed, Olive slumped back in her seat, cradling her coffee between two white paws.

"How's the living situation going anyway?" The mouse asked, sipping her coffee with a soft murmur of approval.

"Not good," Olive groaned, looking down at the table, which was dotted with breadcrumbs; her friend sat back and surveyed her, glancing at her freshly painted fingernails.

"Spill."

"I can't believe I'm being kicked out," the llama moaned all of a sudden into her coffee. "She's such a bitch and she's left me with a freaking week to find somewhere to live. How fair is that? I'm gonna be out on the streets at this rate!"

"She's kicking you out!" The mouse gaped in shock, her slim tail twitching frantically.

"Yeah," Olive continued. "You know my ex, that jerk-off of a wolf? He kept coming round the flat, sprayed graffiti, screamed and hollered for me in the middle of the night, tried to break the door down, smashed things...did no end of shit. Tracey was able to get rid of me in the end because I was causing a disturbance and was a danger." This last word she accentuated by making quotation marks with her fingers, a look of disgust upon her muzzle.

"Well, at least he won't follow you to your new place, will he?" The mouse asked, shivering a bit. "He was horrible - I don't know why you couldn't see it when you were dating that freak."

"I bloody hope not," Olive sighed. "If I had anywhere to go, that is."

"Don't they put up notices like that in here?" Her friend questioned, glancing around.

"Like what?"

"Ads for roommates, silly!" The mouse squeaked impatiently.

"Oh, right, roommate ads," Olive muttered. Her thoughts had been on her ex-boyfriend.

"Duh!"

Giving the rodent an exasperated look, Olive stood and squeezed through the crowd, glaring at the furs that had the audacity to jab elbows against her. Well, it was their fault for being in the way and unwilling to move, she thought as she came up to the notice board. She folded her arms across her chest and huffed, casually looking over the notices, more for show than anything else as she did not expect to find anything suitable listed there. Many of them were for places far out of her price range - she was working as a waitress until she could find something more suitable - but there was one that caught her eye, wedged between two advertisements for cleaning services.

Ripping the note off the board and leaving the pin, along with a corner of the paper, secured to the cork, she read through it several times, her eyes screwed up as she tried to decipher the small scrawl. Her ears perked up as she read and her eyes brightened, some element of enthusiasm returning to her defeated form. Reaching into her pocket, Olive pulled out her mobile phone and dialled the number on the ad.

*

"There," Taz huffed, heaving a large cardboard box with a rip down the side on to the floor. "I think that's the last of them. Is that the last of them?"

As out of breath as Taz, Olive collapsed on to the bare mattress of her new bed, her chest rising and falling sharply as she sought to regain her lost breath. Looking around, she took a mentally tally of the boxes.

"I damn well hope so," she grumbled. "How did I get so much stuff?"

"Beats me," Taz grinned, rubbing the back of her head.

"Don't worry," Olive groaned, sitting upright again. "I checked when I was down there. What you brought up now was everything that was left. I told the driver that he could go when you got that last box."

She swung her legs off the thick mattress and stood up, stretching out her arms above her head. Taz was suddenly struck by how slender the llama was, at least in comparison to her, and she glanced down at her own body, wrinkling her nose faintly in distaste. She wished that she could ask Olive how she stayed so slim, but she had a feeling that it would be rude to ask her so soon; there would be plenty of time for more personal questions when they had gotten to know each other better.

"Do you want help unpacking?" Taz asked instead.

With a tired nod from Olive, Taz pulled a box closer to her, heaping the clothes from it on to the bed. Olive followed her lead and grabbed pawfuls of the clothes, beginning to stack them haphazardly into the chest of drawers (there had been no wardrobe hangars left behind by Taz' old roommate). They worked together quickly in relative quiet, Taz not paying much attention to the clothes that she was handling until, after a fairly great volume, she became painfully aware of the vast difference between Olive's clothes and hers. Whereas Taz felt most comfortable in loose clothes, preferably in dark or muted shades, Olive seemed to go for anything bright and in styles that Taz would brand 'daring'. Certainly not the things that her wardrobe was made up of! Although the zedonk could not help but feel slightly envious of Olive's style, as erratic and bold as it may be.

"I wish I could keep up with the trends," Taz said at last in an admiring tone as she held up a fashionably cut dress.

"Oh, we can soon fix that," Olive replied quickly, casting a critical eye over Taz' ensemble. "I don't need to unpack all of this today."

Unsure of where this exchange was going, Taz nodded wordlessly and busied herself with a box of make-up, laying the confusing pile of implements - not knowing the intended use of the majority - on the bed beside Olive. Fix that? What did she mean? She did not have to wait long to find out.

"I mean," Olive went on. "I haven't been shopping in a few days, so there's clearly going to be something new in Outfit that I need, and I need to stop by Hooves, Paws and Claws for new shoes."

"Uh...new shoes?" Catching on, Taz' eyes strayed to the heap of footwear in the base of the wardrobe. How could she have so many? "You seem to have quite a few already, but I wouldn't really know how many pairs are necessary - you've seen that I don't wear them."

"But why not?" Olive questioned, her ears flicking forward curiously. "You can never have too many pairs!"

"Oh, really, I just find them a bother - "

Taz was cut off thankfully by the Olive's phone buzzing into life, some dance track blaring out of the tiny, pink speakers at full volume. Grimacing, she held up one finger towards Taz and groped along the mattress for it, the number appearing as "unknown" on the little screen.

"Hang on a sec, okay?" She muttered, trotting out of the room and into the kitchen. "Hi? Who is this?"

The zedonk tried not to listen to the conversation at first as her mind was mostly occupied by the thought of being dragged out shopping. She giggled at what her close friend Tania, a bay mare, would say if she turned up at one of their outings dressed in a fluorescent miniskirt and halter top - not that Olive's wardrobe was anything so garish, it was simply an amusing thought. She mused over the clothes for a few minutes, half-listening to the murmur of the llama's voice from down the short hallway but raised her head when Olive's voice escalated sharply.

"You don't have any say whatsoever in anything I do!" Olive shouted (presumably into the phone) from the kitchen. "Who the hell do you think you are, phoning me up like this? You've caused enough shit for me! Why can't you just fuck off already and leave me well enough alone!"

Setting the clothes down, Taz edged towards the open door, poking her muzzle into the hallway. The kitchen door was also open; Taz supposed that Olive must have forgotten to swing it shut in the upset, though she could not understand who was on the phone to her and why they were angering her so. The zedonk was never one to engage in conflict willingly and the mere sound of it reminded her of all the arguments that she had strived to avoid as a foal in her parent's house: that time had been far from pleasant. She felt a guilty pang in her chest as she realised that she was eavesdropping on her new roommate within hours of first meeting her and Taz made as if to withdraw into the bedroom. However, the next shriek of words from Olive stopped her in her tracks, ears pricked attentively.

"No, no - I won't tell you where I am! Oh, why? Why? So you can come around and get me kicked out of another place? You're an ex for a reason, arsehole, and if you call me again, I'll call the police and file for harassment! You got that all right?"

Ex-boyfriend...forced to leave her previous home...personal troubles... The pieces of the puzzle fell into place for Taz and she frowned deeply, wondering if she should anticipate a similar kind of nuisance. What sort of weirdo would go after a femfur after they had broken up? Although she felt unease stirring in her chest, Taz was acutely aware of the fact that she did not know the whole story, only snippets, and could not make any judgements...even if her thoughts would run away with her.

I don't have much luck with the roommate game, she thought with a sigh. I don't want to have to call the police on some crazy guy, jeez.

"Leave me alone!" Olive finally screamed at an ear-splitting pitch. "I won't tell you who she is and I want nothing more to do with you - ever! I never want to hear from you or about you again and you can drop dead for all I care! Now, goodbye!"

If she could have slammed the phone down, Olive would have, but being matters as they were with her petite mobile phone, she merely huffed loudly and stalked back into her bedroom where Taz sat, striving to look as if she had heard nothing, nothing at all. Without speaking, the llama pawed through the make-up pile listlessly, selecting a random cylinder of mascara and adding a flirty flick to her eyelashes with a couple of effortless, practiced strokes.

"Are you...okay?" Taz asked tentatively and Olive paused, collecting herself before flashing a bright smile.

"Oh, of course I'm fine, that's sweet of you to ask," she replied, looking genuinely surprised and happy to have been asked. "It was nothing - I guess you heard all of that?"

"Well, I heard some of it," the zedonk admitted cautiously, her tail twitching against her leg. "I was unpacking."

Pursing her lips, Olive gave a half-shrug as if to say "what can I do?" and continued adding a light layer of make-up to her face, stylishly outlining her eyes with a complimentary, dark brown eyeliner that brought out the delicate shades of brown and cream in her fur.

"Come on, let's go," Olive said abruptly, snatching up her handbag from the bedside table.

"What? Now? Don't you want to finish unpacking?" Taz asked, surprised by her abrupt change, though she chanced that she saw tears pricking at the corners of Olive's lightly glistening eyes.

"Okay," Taz said hesitantly. "I'll get my coat and bag."

*

"I'm not so sure about this," Taz murmured, her arms piled high with clothes seemingly picked at random off the racks, although Olive assured her that there was method in her madness.

The llama had said barely a word to Taz as they walked to the shopping centre, an awkward silence hanging over them. Unused to situations like this, Taz tried to begin a conversation several times, but Olive shrugged her off and only deemed to supply short, one or two word answers in return, which swiftly discouraged Taz. However, Olive came to life once in the shopping district and, besides making an assortment of eclectic purchases for herself, insisted that Taz try on a variety of different clothes, including several flowing skirts that Taz certainly would not have selected if she had been on her own.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Olive breezed as she ushered Taz into the dressing room. "You need to update your wardrobe. You have no trouble paying for them, right?"