Chapter Twenty-One

Theo

I was supremely appreciative for the suggestion of staying in the city the night before, especially since I wasn’t quite sure what time we had fallen into our respective beds, but was damned unimpressed with the 8:00 a.m. wake-up reminder from my phone, insisting that we needed to get to the parade route.

Robbie was ridiculous in his constitution, springing out of bed as if he hadn’t been just as snookered as I was the night before. After a quick shower he raced out to get me some java while I pulled my hungover ass together. He and Abi came in (after he made sure I was decent), all bubbly and talkative. I groaned their way, snatching the joe from him.

“That was the best party ever!” Abi grinned. “And Charleen and the rest of the girls all agreed to come to the wedding.”

“Umm, Abs. Don’t you think you should maybe clear it with Jason before you invite a bunch of drag queens to crash your wedding?” I asked, reveling in the jolt of caffeine.

“Drag queens?” Abi hesitated. Her perplexed look left me breathless from laughter.

Once I collected myself, I asked, “Abs, we gotta go. You going to be cool here?”

“Nah, I’m going to go check out the city a little, then hang on the parade route. Robbie told me you guys generally come back for a nap, so maybe we can all meet up at, what? Six o’clock to get some dinner before we hit the club?”

Her energy was obnoxious.

★

The cool morning air tickled across my face as I completed setting up the sound board. I pulled the brown faux-fur coat around myself and snorted at the image I must have been striking. Glancing up from my sunken area in the middle of the float, I noted that it really was like I was in a manmade bear cave surrounded by a fake forest. There was even a bed of soft green shag carpet that served as grass and little papier-mâché wildflowers sprinkled throughout. Chuck had gone out of his way this year, having designed the float to have four huge trees where the “bear cubs” were going to perch and represent Grizzly’s, the oldest gay bar in San Francisco. Chuck and Bob gave thousands each year to LGBTQ centers throughout the city and had marched with the likes of Milk back in the day. Chuck was on several activist committees and as such enjoyed the ability to have an annual float in the parade, and for it to be as garish as he wanted.

My eyes came to rest on an unamused Robbie, who was standing between two of the trees, paws on his hips, with a headband that was askew holding two slightly lopsided soft brown ears sticking out of his hair. I tilted my head to realize that the stuffed bear paws were attached on top of gloves and took in the skintight brown jockstrap and boots that had paws affixed to them.

“I don’t want to do it,” he complained quietly.

I had been busying myself with the musical lineup and sound system and hadn’t really been paying attention as Robbie had been ushered away into the dressing area with several others from the club. I blinked at Robbie’s state of undress and glanced around to see all the other young men climbing onto the float, arguing about what positions they wanted to take up on the trees. All wore the same “costume.”

“Umm, what happened to the shorts?” I asked, my eyes drifting back to his package. When Chuck had called to secure my volunteer services for the parade, again, he had invited Robbie and told me the theme and attire.

“No shorts, just this!” he stage-whispered, gesturing to his crotch. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my chubby bartender friend climbing up a tree, an obvious tail peeking out of his cheeks. I took a deep breath to try to quash the sudden blood rushing from my big head into the little one.

“Looks good,” I said without thinking. “Are you wearing…?” I found myself lecherously glancing back at the men, wondering if all of them were wearing plugs, before shaking my head and training my attention back on Robbie. I bit my lip and fixed a concerned frown so as not to smile at the fact that he was adorable. And oh, so sexy.

His eyes narrowed with irritation. What made matters worse was the tapping of his paw on the ground.

“I mean, what’s wrong, sugar?” I climbed up from my station and wrapped my arms around him, glancing down over his shoulder and only mildly disappointed to find a bare ass sans tail displayed between two brown straps.

“I don’t want to wear a tail…in public like this,” he whispered.

I failed to hide my grin. “So, you’d wear one in private for me?” That earned me a smack on the chest.

“They’re not making you wear this ridiculousness,” he protested.

I pointed to the ears that they had attached to my headset.

“Not the same,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Besides, you get a coat!”

“Sugar, you don’t have to wear anything you’re not comfortable with. Don’t even have to dance on the float. Baby, you can stick in the DJ booth with me the whole time if you want.” I laughed lightly, kissing his pout until he responded.

“I’m being silly, aren’t I? All of them are doing it…” He glanced at the float behind me, and I forced myself to keep from turning.

“Not at all.” I rolled my thumb over his soft scruff but refrained from telling him that his unshaven look added to his naked bear cub outfit. “You want to go back and get dressed?”

He seemed to consider for a few moments, then shook his head. “No. But I don’t want to wear a tail like that.”

“Then don’t. Come on, let’s find you a branch to hang from.” I boosted him so that he was sitting in a low-hanging branch. “No one will be able to tell that you’re a tailless bear cub.” I laughed, running my hands up both of his legs and passing my thumb over the jock to make him grouse again. He leaned down and took my face in both of his hands. When he kissed me, his fang nicked my tongue, sending a jolt of arousal straight to my dick.

“Get a room,” one of the other cub-dancers jeered.

I staggered back to see Robbie’s eyes sparkling with mischief, my blood working to bolster his confidence. I chuckled when he winked and returned to my station.

Every year the parade seems longer, the crowds larger, the festivities more intense. People came from all over the world to celebrate in San Francisco, and it warmed my heart each year to be part of the celebration of love, diversity, and inclusion. The city was crackling with energy as it always is around this time, but this year was different for me in many ways. It was the first year I actually had a boyfriend. The only time I was in love. It was the first time that all the posters and T-shirts that people held and wore seemed to mean something: that I had rights. I had never really thought about it before. I had never considered that people could hold me back, certainly not with their intolerance and ignorance. But don’t they, though? The moron evangelist or fundamentalist or whatever other-ist in bum-fuck middle of the country telling everyone that someone like me is going to their hell because I’m engaging in their idea of sin, then passing legislation against me… These are things I don’t dwell on, don’t give any more of my time to than a passing thought, certainly none of my energy or emotion. But now I had Robbie. Someone to fight for. Someone to lose. I drank some water and glanced over at him sipping his champagne with one hand and waving to the crowd with the other. He grinned as he occasionally tossed out a headband with bear ears and a Grizzly’s logo on them.

It was ridiculous how one’s life can change so significantly in one short year. I went from the eternal bachelor who spent Pride getting as much ass as possible to having a boyfriend for crying out loud. From thinking myself impervious to all that touchy-feely bullshit to actually wanting to embrace it. Robbie saw me staring and flashed me that grin that was only ever directed at me. It felt great that he seemed to be a little bit back to himself. I thought the pressure of the whole Command thing was getting to him, but after he got a handle on it, he seemed more relaxed. Or perhaps just at peace.

I didn’t see Abi on the route, but that wasn’t saying much considering I was pretty focused on the soundboards and only occasionally checking to see if my man was enjoying himself. Robbie had lightened up and seemed to really get into being on the float. He kept his ass flat on the branch, but swung his legs in time with the music, waved, and accepted refills of champagne from Bob who made his rounds.

Afterward we barely made it back to the hotel before I had to have a piece of him.

He giggled as I bull-rushed him onto the bed. “Bit me just before the parade?” I growled, nibbling his throat and licking his Adam’s apple.

He gave an unapologetic and drunken snort and pushed me up, smiling at me with fangs fully extended. Holy hell but the thrill that rushed through me at the sight of that.

“Sorry, not sorry,” he sang out, his eyes flashing a supernatural emerald.

Suddenly I was on my back with Robbie straddling me, my breath momentarily caught as I was reminded that the man could be much stronger than I was when he wanted to be. I smirked up at him and enjoyed the rise and fall of his pecs and abs as my hands took a self-guided tour.

“Feeling more confident, sugar?” I asked softly, pressing my arousal up against his package as he ground into me.

He hissed low in my ear, the champagne-slurred tone sultry. “Oh, yesss.”