By Chance Take 2
by Fur and Fantasy
NC-17 for M/M
full contents and notes located at the bottom of the file

'By Chance' by Sophie Ellis-Bextor

Take this down, Turn it around
I am water underneath a bridge
So? What do I know?
Getting here must be a privilidge

Do say something meaningful, if at all
Just to fill the air. Or,
Belive I adore you, love me if you dare.
By chance, when I turn out the light,
I'm finding the right line
By chance, I may put this to right
Not in the rest of this lifetime

Let it ride, always inside,
Isn't worth the indecision I hide,
So, nowhere to go,
Stimulating no illusions

I should say something pivitol,
Belittle how you let me down,
Or, believe I adore you,
Love you if I dare.
By chance, when I turn out the light,
I'm finding the right line
By chance, I may put this to right
Not in the rest of this lifetime

Look at you going places
See two faces
I know which to trace
I would be holding my breath,
but things will stay the same, won't they?

Oh I know.


Jake Clawson was well into his drinking before he finally found what he was looking for in an unremarkable dive of a bar in a part of MegaKat City that had never been good, and now was considered downright uninhabitable. Sitting at the bar was a gold tabby with thick chocolate stripes, a brick of a build and near the six-six mark quietly getting himself plastered.

Though dull and a bit grimy, the big tom appealed to a part of the lean, charcoal and caramel tortuous shell tom that Jake usually didn't let surface. But tonight, on the fifth anniversary of that explanation that had gone so horribly wrong, he let himself find a surrogate to sate the growing lust in his soul before it consumed him again.

"Interested in making a hundred bucks, tabby?" Jake got right to the point as he leaned against the bar, his own bottle in hand.

"No-one's got that much money to throw around," the kat retorted without even looking at Jake, his breath reeking of alcohol. "Go bug someone else."

A soft chuckle escaped Jake's throat as he licked his whiskers. "I pay well for what I want," he rumbled with a rather lewd look for the other tom as half the amount flicked in front of the tabby's face just long enough to be recognized.

"And what do you want?" the tabby asked, his eyes following the cash back into Jake's pocket.

"Your body, till morning." He answered easily.

"For a hundred bucks?" The tabby didn't seem to believe it. "That, and all the drink I can keep down."

"No cash if you pass out." Jake regarded him sharply.

The tabby chuckled softly. "Works either way," he said with a shrug. "I'll start with Atomics. Line 'em up."

"Mix half a fifth." Jake instructed calmly. "To go."

The barkeep nodded and set about it, taking a little while to prepare quite so much of the potent drink. When he was done he set it down on the bar in front of Jake, and was handed the cash for it without a pause.

"Come on tabby," Jake picked up the bottle and headed out.

The tabby drowned the remains of his drink in one swallow, then slipped of the barstool to follow along behind the bottle Jake was carrying.


The tabby had no problem drinking Jake's booze, and he certainly had an appetite for it. By the time they'd gotten back to the hotel room Jake had rented he was almost through the bottle of Atomic, his head hanging at an odd angle.

"So whatta'ya want?" The tabby asked, his words slurred by the alcohol. It took him three tries to undo the button on his jeans. "Lick y'r ass, drink y'r piss? 'Bangers really get off on that crap."

Jake shook his head with a soft chuckle as he stripped with much greater ease. "I'm going to fuck you." He rumbled, already fairly turned on despite the situation being less than he could hope for.

"S're," The tabby slurred, finishing off the bottle and tossing it aside. He threw himself face down across the bed, legs spread wide apart and his tail flicked to one side.

The sight drew a deep, hungry rumble from the lean black and brown tortuous shell tom who joined the tabby with more grace, running appreciative hands along heavily muscled legs and up to the firm, rounded ass before he leaned forward to sink himself into the willing, if extremely drunk, body under him with a low moan as his mind found other places to be with a slightly cleaner tabby that looked and even smelled so much like this one.

The tabby gave a soft grunt as Jake pierced him, the walls of his passage instinctively clamping down around the intrusion even in his advanced state of drunkenness, drawing a much deeper moan from the tom above him as a slow, even thrusting pace was set up and Jake closed his eyes, letting the fantasy take over all but the most rudimentary awareness of the real world around him.

The gripping, pulsing passage around his cock yielded to his thrusting hips, letting him drive deeper and deeper into the body beneath him. In his mind the tabby might have smiled and encouraged him on to greater pleasures, but the body in the bed with him lay still as he fucked it, silent except for the occasional soft grunt as Jake's cock touched something deep inside.

Limp or willing in reality, it didn't take long for the fantasy to push Jake over the edge, his last moan from deep in his body a word as the fantasy pushed the enveloped into reality.

The ecstatic moan seemed to evoke more response out of the tabby that the entire time Jake had had his cock inside him, an incoherent grumble coming forth as Jake's seed spurted into his body. As the orgasm passed, Jake relaxed limply against the tabby's back, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the feel of being deep inside the tabby and relaxed across his back.

"You gonna lie there all night?" the tabby asked eventually. "I need to take a piss."

"Sure." Jake consented and pulled out, rolling to his side on the bed to watch the drunken tom. His gait was awkward as he crossed the room, perhaps not surprising for someone who was so drunk and had just taken it up the ass. He didn't bother to close the bathroom door once he'd gone through, so Jake could hear it as he emptied his bladder, clearing away at least some portion of all the drinking he'd done that night.

Eventually the sounds of the tabby revealing himself came to an end and the tom himself reappeared, staggering back over to sit on the bed. He didn't say anything, just sitting there hunched in on himself and waiting for Jake.

"Something wrong tabby?" Jake regarded him curiously, even as the voice in his head screaming at him to get the hell out of the room grew louder and louder even each passing heartbeat.

The grimy golden fur moved in a non-committal shrug. "I know you didn't pay me a hundred bucks to fuck me once."

"No, I paid for the night, just like I said." Jake rumbled. "You're not very doable sitting on the edge of the bed, even if you could get it up that drunk."

The tabby nodded and stretched out on the bed again, blocks of muscle catching Jake's eye as they moved beneath his fur. "Do whatever you like."

The dark tom moved over his bedmate's body, pinning him if there had been a weight advantage. "What's your name, tabby?"

"Chance," the larger kat admitted softly. "But you knew that already. How long have you been watching me?" Despite the nature of the questions there was no hostility in the tabby's tone. In fact there wasn't much of anything in it at all.

"Holy ... krud." The lean tom stammered. "Furlong. You're Chance Furlong, aren't you?"

"If this is some fucking joke it isn't funny," the tabby grumbled. "I want my money."

"You'll get your hundred." Jake said softly. "Guess I should be glad you're still alive."

"You're not that big," Chance snorted in derision. "I've taken a lot worse."

That got a slightly hysterical laugh from the smaller tom. "Damn, Kat. You always did have a one track mind."

"Whatever," Furlong said with a shrug, settling himself back down on the bed.

Jake just shook his head and got up to pull his clothes on, taking the cash from one pocket and dropping it on the dresser. "Take care of yourself buddy. The room's good for three days."

"What the hell?" It took the tabby much longer than it should have to pull himself up into a sitting position. "What the fuck is going on?"

"We knew each other in another life." Jake said quietly. "I never forgot."

"Religious whackjob," the tabby muttered, reaching for the money. "I'm keeping this. No refunds."

"I gave praying up when I lost my pilot." He shook his head and walked to the door. "Never did any good anyway."

"Boo Hoo," the tabby muttered as Jake left. "Everyone's got a sob story."


Two weeks, and Patrik Celest couldn't stand the extra moodiness of his gunner anymore and began hunting down just what the hell had happened to the money Jake had spent on his 'Anniversary' outing.

He wasn't expecting what he found, though by the time the tabby came into the dirty one room pit he called home, the petite black and white longfur realized he should have guessed.

Chance was drunk, predictably enough, so much so that he didn't see Rik leaning in the corner until he turned the light on. The expression on his face was almost comical, transfixed in the dim flickering light of the naked bulb.

Neither said anything for a long, tense moment as Patrik sized up the tabby, and Chance worked through his shock.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Chance demanded, his voice dropping to a hostile growl.

"Trying to find out what the hell happened to my gunner." Patrik's young, light voice answered easily, though there was a cold edge of hatred in it. "You've definitely degraded since you abandoned him." There was a strange note of approval in the words.

"He's probably out whoring somewhere," Chance replied, ignoring the last comment. "What's it got to do with me?"

"You're the one who got paid to let him fantasize for a while." The fluffy Kat shrugged. "Or at least, you got the money. I wasn't sure it was you, but things make a lot more sense now."

"I haven't seen him," Chance growled. "And I really don't wanna see you."

"No," the small Kat smiled dangerously. "But he saw you, and fucked you, and you've still got a price on your head, you know."

"Horay for you, winning the tabby lottery," Chance walked right past the smaller kat to the fridge and pulled a beer out. "That'll buy you about a zillion sticks of bubblegum."

"Oh, I won't be collecting." Patrik chuckled. "Unlike you, I care what will happen to Jake because of my actions. And he obviously doesn't want to see you dead."

"Well I don't know where he is, or what he wants." Chance said impatiently. "Why don't you stop bugging me and go find him?"

"I know where he is, I was trying to find out what happened to him two weeks ago." The small tom rolled his crystal blue eyes expressively. "You were there."

"So was he, asshole." Chance didn't even try to hide his hostility. "Go ask him."

"Five hundred must have bought him an interesting time." Patrik smirked.

"The deal was for one hundred," Chance snarled. "And that's about a tenth of what it'll cost to put you back together if you piss me off any more."

Patrik shook his head and turned to leave through the door. "I will never understand why you chose this over him. Enjoy your life, Chance, if you can call this living."

Chance didn't reply, just sinking down onto his couch as the door closed and raising another bottle to his lips.


Patrik sighed and played the message on his mate's line, both shocked, dismayed and utterly resigned to hear it.

"Jake," the voice was unmistakable. It was also drunken, and wretched. "Stay away from me. I'm ... crap. I'm a cheap, dirty whore, and you don't want to be around me. Just stay up on the hill and stop coming down here. It'll be easier."

"And he has never taken the easy path, you fucking bastard." The petite tom fumed as he transferred a copy to a disk and went about erasing all traces of the call from the system before going to deliver the message to Jake.


"Hi, Chance." Jake's voice was low in the darkness of the room where the tabby had passed out watching TV. The reply could barely be called a moan, if it had actually been a reply at all. Chance's eyes were glazed over, staring blankly at the TV while a half-empty bottle hung from his fingers.

Jake shook his head and found a reasonably comfortable spot out of the tabby's reach to wait for him to sober up enough to talk. It was a long wait, but Jake was a patient kat. Eventually Chance began to move, another half-moan escaping through his lips. Then there was a sudden, uncoordinated scramble as he bent himself over the side of the couch and vomited onto the floor.

The dark tom watched and let a soft sigh out, but otherwise didn't attempt to catch the tabby's attention yet. Chance slumped back into the couch, muttering something that might have been a swearword as he lifted the bottle back up to his lips.

"Do I have to put that out of your reach?" Jake's voice was softly affectionate, as well as sad.

Chance drank deeply, despite his words, didn't even turn towards him. "Y'r not here. Y'r never here." The tabby was barely comprehensible, leaning back into the couch and closing his eyes. His free hand came to rest on his stomach, as if that could settle it.

Jake shook his head and stood, easily claiming the bottle and moving it away before setting back to wait. Chance's objection probably had words, but Jake couldn't make anything out beyond Chance's indignant tone.

"Give't back," the tabby insisted, only a little more comprehensibly.

"No." Jake said softly. "You can have it back when you can take it."

The challenge brought Chance up off the couch, but his ambition well outstripped his ability and he ended up face down on the floor. He struggled desperately to get up again, but even his best effort could only bring him up to his hands and knees. In the end he slumped back onto the floor, lying there like a corpse.

"And I thought I let my life get fucked up." Jake shook his head and relaxed back to wait, knowing he couldn't move the brick of muscle.

"S'all shit," the tabby agreed as he lay there.

"So are you looking to get out?" Jake asked uncertainly.

"Le'me 'lone," The tabby groused quietly, dragging himself slowly across the floor and behind the couch. "Y'r not here."

With a curious look until he spotted the mattress between couch and wall, Jake shrugged did a quick sweep to remove available liquor to the far side of the room before he settled back, field dozing until the tabby decided to actually wake up.

It was well into the next day when Chance, moaning much more loudly this time, poked his head out from behind the couch, wrinkling his nose at the smell of his own vomit.

"You coherent yet?" Jake asked quietly, watching from across the room from a beaten up padded chair.

"What the fuck are you doing here? I thought you were a ... one of those things."

"Hallucination?" Jake offered quietly, watching the tabby. "No, not this time. You called me. Did you really think I wouldn't come when you put yourself in that much danger just to reach me?"

"One of them," he agreed, picking up a bottle and making a small disappointed noise when he found it empty. "I don't remember calling you."

"Well, you did." Jake shrugged.

"Well forget it," Chance told him. "Frankly the less I have to do with your lot the better."

"Little late for that, buddy." Jake murmured. "You called, I'm here, and I'm not leaving without knowing why."

"I don't remember," Chance said, frustrated. "Ask that smart-ass kitten of yours. He knows better than everyone, maybe he's got the answer."

"Rik?" Jake cocked his head. "He probably does, really. But you're the one who wanted to see me."

"No, I didn't." Chance said bluntly, turning towards the smaller tom. "You're the second last person in the entire world I want to see, and I've had to put up with his attitude too. I hate what you did to me, I hate the people you work for, and I hate you. Get out."

Jake shook his head before he stood and walked to the door. "I hear from you again, you won't get rid of me so easily." He promised before shutting the door behind him.

By Chance Take 2

NC-17 for M/M
Het Level is None
Slash Level is Slash Smut Level is High
Femslash Level is None
Herm Level is None

18 KB, Story is Closed-Unfinished, Series is Closed-Unfinished
Written October 16, 2003 by Rauhnee Ranshanka and Vorex

Setting: Cathedral, SWAT Kats

Primary Races: Kat

Contents: Furry. Slash (M/M). DarkFic, Prostitution

Pairings: Jake Clawson/Chance Furlong, Jake Clawson/Patrik Celest

Blurb: Vorex wants a recovery story where Jake and Chance make up after a 'Secrets Too Deep' or 'Razor's New Edge' like scenario. It failed miserably.

Disclaimer: All things taken directly from the sources listed under 'Fandoms' belong to the owners of those shows. No harm is intended and we're definitely not making any money. Now, the things we created are ours, and if you see 'Non-FanFic' up there, it's probably all ours.

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