Furzombie - a gay furry zombie apocalypse

Ow my head - Joshua

Ow, my head.

I drank way too much last night.

Groaning, I rolled over, expecting to see Sam in his bed. Instead, the mattress was empty. There was a folded piece of paper on his pillow. I reached out for it but misjudged the distance and gave up with a frustrated sigh.

Throwing the covers off, I dragged myself upright, my body still sluggish from the wine. I pulled on a pair of joggers, unable to locate my top I rubbed at my bleary eyes before snatching the note off the pillow.

Josh,

I've gone for breakfast. Sorry I couldn't wait; you looked peaceful, and we had to meet Ricky. I thought you could use the sleep anyway—you did drink quite a lot last night, and you were, quite drunk.

Sam x

The note crinkled in my hand as I shoved it into my pocket.

I was drunk, wasn't I?

A wave of panic settled in as I tried to piece together the fragments of last night. What did I do? I remembered stumbling into the room. I remembered Sam helping me undress and pulling the covers over me. Then... nothing. Just a hazy blur.

Knock, knock.

The sound jolted me, and I staggered to the door, catching my reflection in the mirror as I passed. My bare chest was pale, marked by faint lines from the crumpled sheets.

I opened the door slowly, expecting to see Sam, but instead, Ricky stood there. He pushed past me without waiting for an invitation.

"Hey, Josh. Glad I caught you alone," he said, his casual tone clashing with the assertiveness of his entrance.

I blinked at him, still trying to shake off the fog in my head. "Oh, hey. Sorry, I thought you were Sam."

"He's downstairs," Ricky said dismissively, turning to face me. "I just wanted to check in, see how you're doing, and... well, talk about something."

I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling suddenly exposed. "Uh, sure. What's up?"

"Well," he said, hesitating slightly, "it's about you staying here, you know, becoming a runner. Have you thought any more about it?"

"I was planning to talk it over with Sam," I said, my voice wary.

Ricky nodded, stepping closer. "Right, of course. But there's... another thing I wanted to ask you."

"What is it?" I asked, the unease in my stomach growing.

He hesitated for a beat, then took a step forward, his voice dropping. "It's a bit awkward, but I'll just come out and say it. Everyone has needs, right?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, my heart starting to race.

"Come on, Josh. Don't play dumb," he said, his lips curving into a smirk. "You're new here, and I can be a good friend to have. Do me a favour, and I'll do you one. Say...waive the 300 credits, get you a guaranteed spot here. No more running, no more risks. What do you say?"

It took a moment for his meaning to sink in. "I... I'm not sure I understand," I said, though my voice cracked.

Ricky's paw pressed against my chest, sliding down slowly. "I think you do," he said. "One night, Josh. That's all I'm asking. One night, and you're set. You'll never have to worry about surviving out there again."

I froze, my mind scrambling for a response. His hand gripped my waist, pulling me closer.

The door creaked open behind him, and my heart leapt. Sam stood in the doorway, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene. He didn't say a word—just turned and walked away.