AN: Okay, this is going to be like my really big, thought out thing so I hope it meets some standards. A few words of defense before I begin, though.
1) I do not own any of the characters. Bagheera and Shere Khan are property of Kipling and the Jungle Book. Disney came up with the character design for Shere Khan and Bagheera from Jungle Book but I'm using Shere Khan's design from Tailspin as a basis for him here and coming up with my own Bagheera design.
2) The characters are anthro/furries, meaning they look like animals and have animal features but they walk on two legs - er, paws? - and wear clothing.
3) I'm sorry for ruining your childhood but don't spam me for this! Flames and content criticisms are not welcome but suggestions, constructive criticisms, comments on the story itself and other things like that are welcome. Flames will be used to toast marshmellows to make s'mores.
4) THIS IS A SLASH STORY. IF YOU DO NOT LIKE SLASH THEN DON'T READ IT. I'M NOT IN THE MOOD TO BE SCREAMED AT BECAUSE OF HOMOPHOBES READING A GAY STORY!
5) That's pretty much it! Comments are love, please enjoy, I make no money off of this because I am poor as dirt and can't pay the royalty fees.
Tango
Prologue: And All the Men and Women…
*
"All of the World is a Stage;
And all the Men and Women, Merely Players…"
~~William Shakespeare
*
Bagheera slid through the concrete jungle like a dark succubus creeping upon a victim, nothing but seductive curves and satin soft fur that gleamed like watered silk in the moonlight. Twin golden orbs watched the world around him, ears flicking back and forward gently as he crept through the darkness he knew so intimately.
He soon came upon the apartment complex he resided in, a decrepit old haunt that should have long ago been condemned by the city but still remained upright. The rent was cheap and the residence even cheaper as they strutted around, femmes flaunting their bodies and males offering small whiffs of crack cocaine or marijuana. Cigarette smoke choked the halls and clung to clothing along with the scents of waste and decay, musk and sweat. It was a cess pool of the dregs of society, but Bagheera could find little else that he could afford.
He came upon the door to his home and fumbled with the lock, sighing in annoyance when the lock stuck again and he had to slam his side into the broad door to get it open. As soon as he did he felt a thick hand slam into his shoulders, sending him stumbling into his home, collapsing over the side of the couch in an undignified way. He turned to snarl at whoever had attacked him when he heard the click of the lock and laid eyes upon his temporary captor.
A tiger, as large as any demon sent from the depths of the netherworld and with fur the color of flames and charcoal, stood within his home, his pristine white suit brilliant against the peeling brown walls stained with fluids that Bagheera couldn't begin to fathom. The tiger was like a god in here, larger than the panther by sheer height alone, muscle mass making him positively monstrous. His thick jaw and amber eyes made him look even more dominating, making Bagheera feel so much more helpless and insignificant than he felt comfortable feeling.
"It's a wonder you can live in such conditions." The smooth, deep voice that tolled like a bell and rumbled like a rock slide seemed to caress Bagheera far more intimately than any lover ever could, sending vibrations through his flesh and into his bones. This particular tiger had that effect on people in general.
"Get out." Bagheera stated, standing up straighter and allowing his tail to lash angrily. The tiger was loosening his black silk tie, shucking his suit coat and tossing it over the back of the couch, pinning Bagheera against the piece of furniture, the panther gasping in alarm and pressing his hands against the broad chest. "Get off of me!" He demanded, trying to struggle away, stopping when thick claws rested against his lower back.
"Must we really go through this." The tiger asked with a sigh. "We both know that my patience and graciousness are lacking. Save yourself the pain and submit."
"Get out of my home!"
"Would you prefer I take you out into the hall with the low-lifes watching?"
Bagheera stilled immediately at that, eyes wide and round as saucers.
"You wouldn't." He gapped and the tiger gave him a deadpanned stare.
"I will have you any way I want, Bagheera." The panther shuddered at the way the larger male rolled his name in his mouth, making it sound like a seductive thing of beauty. He gasped as the tiger slid his palms down into his pants, pushing the tight leader down and squeezing the pert arse firmly. Bagheera gasped and shuddered, his left leg curling around the thick waist, amazed at how everything about the tiger was so large compared to his own sleek, slender form. And how he could convince the panther's own body to betray him by mere touch alone.
A large paw slid down Bagheera's arse to grasp his thigh firmly, the panther reaching down between them to undo the button and zipper to fashionable white slacks, releasing the tiger's thick length, his own arousal pressing into the heat of the powerful body, his legs quaking as he was maneuvered to laying on the couch, pinned as he was mounted by the tiger, gasping and moaning breathlessly at the sensation and emotions. Feelings he shouldn't feel for the tiger.
"Say my name… Let the world know who your master is…" The voice whispered and Bagheera choked out the name, jerking when the tiger latched onto his throat. "Louder."
"Sh-shere… K-khan…" The panther managed and the tiger jerked forward, harder and faster.
"Louder!"
"Sssshere Kh-khan!"
"Louder!"
"Shere Khan!"
"Louder!"
"SHERE KHAN!"
The tiger roared as he came, the panther shuddering and closing his eyes, trying to ignore the rising need for release as the larger male finished. Tears leaked from his eyes and he turned his head so that the larger cat wouldn't see them.
Shere Khan sighed and rested against the panther, stroking his face gently, frowning at the tears. He glanced down and smirked at the aching arousal pressed to his stomach.
"Do you need something, Bagheera?"
The panther shuddered and refused to look at the tiger, his hands clenching on the expensive shirt covering the tiger's chest.
"No?" A calloused, strong paw slid down the flat, slender stomach and grasped Bagheera's aching length, pumping him slowly, causing the panther to arch and gasp, shame making him look away and cover his face. Shere Khan growled and pinned the slender wrists with one large paw, staring down into the pained face.
"Look at me, Bagheera."
The smaller feline obeyed, opening his eyes and staring up into amber depths, seeing his own pleasure shot face in their glittering depths. He gasped and arched, coming sharply and coating himself and the larger male with his essence.
"Que je t'aime, mon cher." Shere Khan whispered and Bagheera shuddered, pushing him away and stumbling to right himself, adjusting his thick dreadlocks and zipping up his pants, avoiding the gaze of the larger tiger, sprawled across the couch as if he owned it, his crotch exposed and looking the picture of powerful lust.
"Are you quite finished? I'm not an on call whore." Bagheera stated tersely, turning to glare at the larger male, trying to keep his gaze from travelling to the area between athlete's thighs.
"Are you free tomorrow evening?" Bagheera scowled at the question. It was his day off and the tiger knew it.
"Why do you even ask?"
"Then you'll be available for dinner around six?" Bagheera stared at the tiger. "I'll pick you up then." Shere Khan smirked, standing and adjusting himself, concealing himself and picking up his jacket, looking every bit the respectable gentleman the public saw him as while Bagheera sat looking every bit a debauched whore.
"Now wait one moment!" Bagheera shouted, jerking to his feet but falling back immediately when the door closed and he knew that he would never catch the tiger, much less convince him to leave him alone. Bagheera sat for a few moments before snarling and tearing off his clothes, throwing them onto the floor and stalking to his bathroom, turning on the shower and stepping directly into the icy cold spray, the water slowly warming as he stood, pressing his forehead into the corner, the water pelting his back and shoulders, clensing him of the tiger's scent. A scent of Havana cigars and sharp, spicy cologne and just of MALE. It marked him, soiled him and showed the world that he belonged to the suave, razor-like businessman.
Bagheera made a sound of disgust and grabbed a bar of soap, scrubbing at himself and trying desperately to get the feeling of strong paws off of his skin along with the smell.
*