Disorder Ch 01

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.

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"We'll be caught if we go for this one..."

Soren frowned and hung back, his eyes darting from one side to the other as sirens rang down the city streets, although they were not, at least for the moment, directed at the two miscreants at work. The young man, Soren, however, was not so much 'at work' as he was trying to persuade a long-time friend from doing just what he considered to be his work. Charles stalked around his chosen target on the side street - really, it was almost as if they wanted it to be stolen - the wheel trims gleaming and the paintwork absolutely immaculate.

A beast of a car...just not the current year's range, which was a pity. Smirking, Charles admired it, although he would have to make his move sooner or later and not just enjoy the smooth hide of the animal locked up in the bonds of a Lamborghini that purred without moving a single inch. He perhaps should have been a little more clued up on a car that he wanted to steal, if only temporarily, before taking it for a spin, as he could not tell the model, but he crooned to it all the same as he ran a hand over the smooth line of the roof.

"Yeah, baby..."

Not his usual style but it had just the effect of making Soren jump and twitch, amusing in itself to see a man with more brawn and bulk on his body than him set so anxious but such a simple thing. Soren worked out but he had a day job and work that would have been seen as respectable to most, even if he did seem to like hanging out with just the wrong crowds at the end of the day. Maybe Charles with his long, dark hair and blazing eyes made him feel like he was living another life, if but for a time. Maybe he thought it was more the life for him than an otherwise dull existence. Time could very well tell on that count but it would not tell during the course of that particular day.

Besides, Charles had some rubber to burn.

"Come on, now," Soren said, pressing the matter as he brushed his hair out of his eyes, the dirty-blonde strands getting a little bit too long (he may well put it back into a buzz-cut soon). "You've had your fun. If we're going to damn well do this, let's find another less obvious car, alright? It's too big, too obvious... You know someone will be looking for this!"

But it wasn't the fact that someone would be looking for the Lambo if it went missing that Charles had in mind but the idea that everyone would be looking at him. Of course, it was late afternoon on a holiday day and there were not many around to begin with even as a winter chill nipped at the air. Snow was yet to come in New York, although they hadn't had all that many truly bad winters in comparison to the rest of the country and, of course, other states better positioned for cold snaps to bite and take hold. Yet the time was quiet and he could just about imagine that he was on a track, taking advantage of life good and proper, the wheel cool and slick beneath his hands, gloves gripping firmly. Imagining it, his smirk deepened and he cast Soren a wink, his slim frame, at least, suited for the light car and just how he imagined it would handle. Soon, he would know for himself too.

"Psh, you worry too much!" Charles rolled his eyes, a hand comfortably on the hood of the Lambo; one could have been mistaken for thinking that he owned it himself. "And what's the point in not having a little fun from time to time?"

Soren shifted his weight anxiously, rubbing the stubble on his chin - a late afternoon shadow of blonde that could not be swept away or hidden, no matter how carefully he tried to shave. He was rarely unshaven, though Charles did so like to make fun of him for it if he ever did let his appearance slip even in a so-called 'manly' and 'masculine' regard. That was just one of the things that kept him smart and primed, always on spec and looking as suave as he, at least somewhat, hoped to appear.

That didn't stop him from combing his fingers through his hair, swallowing hard and giving every appearance of being a much younger man, inexperienced in the ways of life even if his career, admittedly, was off to a good start. He could do so many things but there was always a sense of something missing in his life, as was the case for so many other young men in the city too, so it was hardly as if he found himself the odd one out, struggling to seat himself in a reality of his choosing. But, perhaps, running with the wrong crowd wasn't going to get him there, even if Charles never once failed to add a slice of variety to his otherwise simple life. Maybe that was all he was really after: the sense of feeling something, anything at all.

But that was too much to go into as he gulped and paced, eyes wide and snapping from one end of the road to the other, taking note of the few passers-by who didn't seem to have anything better to do on a national holiday. No, no... They could find another car, a safer car, not one like that!

"Charles... I know you gotta do what you gotta do...but this one is too much!"

Clicking his tongue rather dismissively up against the roof of his mouth, Charles checked the alarm. Too much to simply unlock the door from the inside, that one would take just a little more finesse... But he was always up for a challenge. And wasn't the very notion of having a challenge to take on just what made things all the more interesting in the end? Ah, anything simpler would have been boring!

"They wouldn't leave it out here if they cared about it," he said, as if that made the matter of stealing it, somehow, okay. "It won't take long. But these always have a little bit of a weak spot. Watch and learn, my friend, watch and learn..."

Soren didn't want to see what Charles was doing, fearing that, somehow, he would implicate himself in the act, even if he was, of course, already implicated. If they were caught, he'd well enough be an accomplice and, well, that would be that for him. Career, gone. Family...well, that side wouldn't matter all that much for him but it would most certainly screw up his career and the rest of his life. Maybe it was worth it. Either way, he kept his back to Charles, pretending he was some kind of lookout while the job was underway, although he wasn't much of one, when all was said and done.

"And...here...we...go!"

Putting a little dramatic flair on the last word, Charles pumped a closed fist triumphantly and opened the door, giving a little bow as if he was a performer who, at that very moment in time, was particularly pleased with his work. And, just like that, although Soren could not have said just how he did it (good lord, he didn't want to know...) the car was open, the leather interior scented so sweetly that it was very clear that it was a new vehicle. A new vehicle that someone would miss if it disappeared but that was hardly something that Charles would be all that bothered thinking about when he'd set his sights on something.

"And this..."

Of course, there would not solely an exterior deterrent to thieving the vehicle, oh no: there was far more at play than just that. A computer system required the key to be inserted or at least near but Charles had earlier boasted that he was proficient at that even as Soren tried, once again, to persuade him to find something else. Sure, a battered old pickup truck wasn't exactly the swankiest thing to take off for a quick joy ride but it was still something and something was, sometimes, all that they needed.

Yet not that time. Charles had his heart set on the Lambo and that's what he was going to get, cursing and muttering under his breath as he slipped up just a bit and let his facade fade. He was not truly as smooth and as slick as he professed to be but he still had a task at hand and waved Soren off dismissively as he mumbled something that could have been considered persuasive to a lesser soul.

"There we have it!"

Proudly, Charles slapped the dashboard and laughed, the sound echoing strangely outside the car as if he had deliberately managed to project his voice. Soren jumped and spat a swear that was most unlike him but there was little more to be done as his friend cheered himself on.

"Anti-theft... Pswah!" He spat derisively, although his lips curved up on one side into a salacious smirk, smug at his own prowess. "No job, no problem!"

Whatever that was supposed to mean (he was prone to coming out with lines that, while they sounded impressive, weren't always immediately clear in their meaning), the job was well enough one and whatever the owners had put onto the car to deter any thieves had not worked in the slightest. That was, however, just why Charles was so damn good at his chosen lifestyle, even if it really did go outside the bounds of the law. The engine rumbled into life like the snarl of a wild animal and Soren shook his head, hungry for the thrill but, perhaps, not the potential consequences of it.

"Get in, would you?"

Seemingly helpless to do anything else, Soren hustled around to the other side of the car and stumbled into the passenger side seat, folding up his long legs into a space that did not quite seem designed to fit him. The front seemed as sporty as most who just wanted a car for the weekend and for events, not exactly an everyday drive. However, the slick interior stretched out into the back, which proved to be rather roomier and, oddly, filled with belongings of the person who had left it there: unusual for such a car. Charles poked around for a bit as Soren tried to encourage him on - anything to get out of there quickly - turning over a bag in his hands and shrugging as he tossed it back where it belonged on the back seat.

"Sheesh, they got enough room in this thing?" Charles rolled his eyes. "Deceptive for a sports car... Ugh."

"You don't have to take it, you know," Soren cut in, trying to stall things even as he, inadvertently, heightened the risk that they would get caught, the longer that they found themselves dallying. "It's a laugh, right, you're not really going to do that..."

Of course, Soren would not say what Charles already knew, although it could have well enough have been said to be part of their dynamic by that point in their odd friendship. He would not play the part of the driver, the instigator, but there was nothing like the thrill of speeding through streets and tunnels alike for the drive of escalating a car up to shocking heights of speed. Oh, Soren did not need to feel the wind through his hair or anything like that, just the drive of the road whipping by him, hot beneath their tyres as two souls laughed recklessly, throwing dire caution to the wind.

And that was just why he went out with Charles each and every time he said he had something to do, even though he didn't really want to get into trouble with the law. There was so much going on and one man could not help but be a part of it, in just one little way, even if he would draw the line at some of Charles' more illicit activities.

A joy ride, however, when the car would be dumped somewhere obvious for the owner to retrieve? That was something else entirely and something that Soren could well and truly get behind, even if he needed, for the sake of his own sanity and mental wellbeing, to make it seem as if he was against it every last step of the way. It would not be long, however, until the wheels were turning and any thoughts of saying 'no' fell absolutely by the wayside.

"Let's get this show on the road!" Charles crowed, bumping a tune out on the steering wheel with his palms. "Fuck yeah! This is what I'm talking about!"

And the game was on. The engine rumbled to life, more of a snarl than a purr - as if it was trying to announce its presence to the world around. Soren cringed even as his breath caught, leaning all the way back into his seat, preparing for the launch. Charles was nothing but a speed freak and, well, that time would soon see itself to be no different at all.

The engine revved, Charles taking no time at all to get a feel for the car before peeling off down the street in a screech of tyres that had to be heard. But no one who ran out after them was going to be able to catch them as the joy rider slammed his foot down, head thrown back and laughing as he twisted and wove his way down the streets as if he owned the road. Paying no attention to traffic laws or one-way streets, Charles shrieked and called out for the sheer, reckless joy of it, hair whipping about his face as the windows rolled down.

Soren, perhaps, should have slunk back into the seat as he took them out on the fastest joy ride, yet, although each and every illicit round felt like the best one yet, reaching every fresh heights of ecstasy in a way that did not involve sex at all, which was strange in itself. There was something to be said for adrenaline getting the better of a person and the effect it had on one's body, although there was little thought that could be given to it in the heat of the moment, adrenaline up and pumping.

Shouting something that Soren did not catch, Charles fiddled with the stereo system, still going at top speed as the sidewalk flashed past, traffic lights meaning nothing to a man who felt that he was above the law. The radio blared and he mouthed a curse, slamming the heel of his hand into it repeatedly as if the leather glove, a cutting red and black, would be more dextrous than his too pale, too slender fingers.

One tune after the other until, finally, he found whatever station it was that he'd been looking for and hollered, cranking it up until the very car itself seemed to be vibrating. Taking the corners at speed, he took whatever route he pleased, treating the car and the road so violently for the raw thrill of it that the belongings of the man who owned the car (well, they looked at least vaguely to be masculine) slid about the back seat as if they would going to fly out entirely. A backpack of some sort, the odd, leather thing that Charles had thrown back into place before, slapped up against the window like an animal striving to make a hasty bid for freedom, but neither noticed as Soren's fingers dug deeper and deeper into the leather seat, a point of pressure-pain shooting up into his hand. But he was too far gone to heed or take note of it. It was all about the thrill of the ride, forgetting everything just for the cause of a little while of complete and absolute ecstasy.

With the bass pumping, everything ramped up, the late afternoon sunshine cast down the streets as the first flicker of sunset pricked off the skyscrapers. Down at street level, there was nothing of a horizon to be seen but they had their own scenery to do, carving a route through the city that they would make their own. It may have been a national holiday but if it was one for spending time with family, Soren could not think of anyone better to spend it with than Charles.

A bit too much? Ah, to hell with it! Blood pumping, Soren yelled, the incoherent words whipped away by the wind as he lost himself in the moment, punching Charles arm and grinning like a man taken by madness itself. Tyres screeched on tarmac as he treated the vehicle as roughly as he may have done a one night stand, only there for a quick wham, bam, no thank you, ma'am, both men hollering as if they had been taken and lost to themselves, shop windows and colourful overhangs for buildings that would not come back to life again until the holiday was good and done with.

But just because the city was sleeping, for one of the rare, rare times, didn't mean that they had to hold back from living life in the meantime too, Charles spinning the wheel crazily as he whipped down a side street, tearing up shreds of paper in his wake. Just what had that been left by - a recycling truck? Ah, that was no matter to them even as the paper streamed behind as if they were leaving a trail of confetti to herald their passing, fingers clenched and knuckles white in the baring of teeth. For there was nothing to living with one's head in the sand, buried under piles of paperwork when there was so much sheer, raw fun to be had at the same time.

Maybe that was what it was all about. Maybe it was something else entirely but their shouts mingled, rising to a crescendo over the roar of the engine, the cries of pedestrians as they ducked into more populated areas of the city, less touristy, blurring into one mess of confusion. Not everyone, after all, was locked away at home with their families for the holiday and that was just where the risk ramped up, eyes following the Lambo with a certain kind of hunger as it cut a decisive blue streak down the main street, although it was by no means still the designated 'main' street of the city itself.

Times changed. Better to keep the wheels moving, always turning, scream and shout and bellow out the joy of the moment above all else. What else did they, after all, have to live for?

No... No. That was something too deep for the moment, too far for two lost souls to contemplate when even their words were ripped away from them. Soren cried out and shoved Charles' shoulder as a flash of blue lights cut across them up ahead - an unhappy accident that could very well cost them all that they had gained so far.

"Watch out!"

But it was too late. Even as Charles cursed and veered off manically down a side street, taking out a trash can in the process, the sirens rang out, their path tracked and followed by those who, really, had little else better to do on such a quiet day. The side street narrowed sharply but Charles wasn't about to let up as he screeched into a handbrake turn at the junction, uncaring of any traffic that may or may not have been there. Although Soren clutched at the seat, Charles didn't even notice the delivery cyclist who shot off to the side, wide-eyed and gaping as he narrowly was missed. For he was just a passive player in a joy ride that did not concern him as sunset glanced off the skyscrapers, slanting down to the lowly mortals walking down below on a day that surely should have been designated for rest and relaxation.

But the more pressing matter at hand was the blare of sirens following them, the cops racing and speeding as the first was joined by a second, the blue and white of their cars stark against even a colourful display in a florist window, only lit up as the lights, automatically, came on at the tail end of the day. The city would never truly sleep, after all, and the lights would not be switched off merely because it was a quiet day, street lamps flicking on one by one even as neon and luminescent strips denoted adverts and locations and everything else that anyone could possibly want or need to find in the big city.

Swearing, Charles slammed his hand into the wheel and snarled out a curse, lips twisted as if he was on the edge of screwing up his lips to spit, although that would have been a bit beyond him to be so crude in such a vehicle. After all, he'd chosen it for its style and class even if he would have preferred a slicker, sportier model still - maybe one of the ones from the current year. Glancing up coolly at the cops in the rear view mirror, lights flashing and glancing off store windows, he adjusted the wrist strap of one of his gloves, tightening it just a little with the deft finger and thumb of his left hand.

Well? It wasn't as if he was going to just pull over and play dead for them!

"Damn!"

Soren tried to shout in reply that the cops were on their tail but all that came out was a laugh, which was, in itself, better than, quite clearly simply stating the obvious. The tyres gripped and Charles clenched his teeth in a savage sort of grin, haring off down the road, a route laid out in his head that only he knew. The day was getting old in the tooth and there was only so far, he was sure, that the police would be willing to follow them. But he hadn't succumbed to them as yet and he had no inclination in his bones or his body to do so anytime soon.