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
Chapter 1: A Dinner Date
*
"Being a sex symbol is a heavy load to carry; especially when one is hurt, tired and bewildered."
~~ Marilyn Monroe
*
The restaurant looked expensive. Staring at the menu – written in actual Chinese, damnit – Bagheera felt inexorably lost in the nice restaurant with a bowl of some sort of soup in front of him while he tried to make sense of what he was staring at.
"Do you know what you want to order?" The waiter asked and Bagheera was about to say that no, he had no clue what he wanted to order, didn't they print menus in English here? But was cut off by Shere Khan. The tiger looked directly at the waiter, who was jotting down the order as Shere Khan gave it. In Chinese. Really, this was just embarrassing, the panther glared at his bowl of soup, as if it had commited a personal offense against him, jumping when a large paw covered his.
"Are you alright?" Shere Khan asked, looking concerned and Bagheera glared at him.
"No, I'm not alright, I have no clue what I'm doing spending my free day here with you of all people and on top of that you mock me by taking me to a place where I'm forced to rely on you for my food."
"Do you not trust me?"
"As far as I can throw you." Bagheera sneered, looking away and noting the small tea pot between them. He reached out and carefully poured the pale green liquid, sighing and cupping the hot china cup delicately in his clawed hands.
"I must be far lighter than I think." Shere Khan chuckled and Bagheera glared at him icily, taking a drink of his tea while Shere Khan lifted his spoonful of soup to his lips, at ease in an environment he was used to.
After a few minutes of silence Bagheera dared to voice a question that had burned him for a while.
"What languages do you speak?" Bagheera whispered and Shere Khan chuckled.
"Cantonese is my native tongue, I obviously speak English, some French, German and Spanish as well as Russian."
"Why?"
"Many of my business partners come from various countries and ethnic cultures, it is wise to know their traditions and languages in order to connect on a… more personal… level…" Bagheera noticed that the tiger was staring at him and blinked before realizing that he had been running his finger around the rim of his tea cup, drawing the tiger's gaze to his long fingers. Shere Khan blinked and straightened, clearing his throat. "Do you speak any languages?"
"Punjabi." Bagheera stated, frowning ever so slightly. "My father wished for me to have roots in my home culture so he had my speak Punjabi at home and English when outside."
"What religion do you practice?" Shere Khan asked, curious despite himself.
"I was born and raised Catholic but ceased to practice when I moved out of my father's home. You?"
"My mother was a devout Buddhist, I do not practice any religion."
Bagheera was interested in this tidbit of information.
"Why not?"
"I believe that God deserves to pass judgment on me based on my life as a whole, untainted by whether I spent it groveling in the dirt for his mercy and forgiveness."
Bagheera was silent as their food arrived, watching as Shere Khan tapped two of his fingers on the edge of the table in thanks when the waiter refilled their tea cups. Bagheera stared at the large meal before him. There was a large bowl of plain rice, two chop sticks placed to the side and several appetizers and entrees surrounding the edge of the rotating center of the table. The smells of spices and food filled him and he felt his stomach protest with the need for a decent meal. He rarely had actual food, paying the bills often coming first.
Bagheera served himself a little bit of everything, finding it somewhat disturbing that Shere Khan didn't serve himself, but watched the panther eat intently.
Bagheera was having slight difficulty with the chopsticks, frowning as he tried to pick up some of the sweet, sticky rice.
"It is absolutely amazing that an entire country doesn't starve." He murmured and Shere Khan smirked, reaching over and picking up a piece of chicken from Bagheera's plate, pressing it to his mouth.
"Here, open." Shere Khan smiled indulgently and Bagheera reeled backwards in disgust. He was not going to be fed like some cub. "It's either let me feed you or go hungry."
Bagheera felt his stomach twinge in protest before he sighed and opened his mouth, leaning forward to engulf the food in his warm cavern. Shere Khan smirked as he pulled the chopsticks away, taking a bite from his own plate before feeding the panther some food as well.
"There is a Chinese story about Heaven and Hell concerning chopsticks." Shere Khan stated after he had taken another bite of his food and fed Bagheera some as well. "A man travelled to Hell and found a long table spread out with a glorious banquet, all who sat at the table had a pair of ten foot long chop sticks to eat with. Yet all who sat at the table were miserable and starved, because they could not feed themselves with such large chopsticks." Shere Khan smiled as Bagheera listened intently, opening his mouth automatically when the tiger lifted the chopsticks towards him. Shere Khan chuckled and took the bite of food for himself, teasing the panther before feeding him again.
"This same man travelled to Heaven. In Heaven there was an identical banquet laid out and at each seat was a pair of ten foot chopsticks, but each person at that table was content and well fed. Do you know why?"
"Because they ate with their hands?" Bagheera murmured sourly as he was fed once more. Shere Khan chuckled low in his throat.
"No, because each person fed the person across from him using his chopsticks." Shere Khan cupped Bagheera's chin and stared into golden eyes. "The people in Hell starved because they thought only of themselves. The people in Heaven, on the other hand, they benefited from one another by compromising with each other."
Bagheera glared at the tiger, and Shere Khan licked the tip of his chopsticks. Bagheera's mouth fell open and he made a sound of frustration, grabbing his chopsticks and stabbing them upright into his bowl. There was silence in the restaurant for a moment as Bagheera stalked out of the restaurant and Shere Khan smirked before putting down a hundred dollar bill and walking out of the restaurant.
"Taxi!" Bagheera snarled as another yellow cab drove past him, sighing and staring down the street. Another cab came by and Bagheera grabbed the door before it had even fully stopped, pulling it open. He was just about to close the door when an enormous paw grabbed it and yanked it open.
"This won't be necessary." Shere Khan stated smoothly, flicking the door closed after he had safely pulled Bagheera out.
"You bastard, let me go!" Bagheera shrieked and Shere Khan chuckled as he half dragged the panther to his black Mercedes Benz McLaren, the butterfly doors slamming closed after he was secured in his seat. The door opened on the driver's side and the large tiger slid in, buckling himself in and starting the engine while he pulled out one of his cigars and lighting it, and pulled smoothly out of the parking place.
Bagheera refused to look away from the window the entire trip and when the car finally stopped in front of his apartment he opened the door and fairly tore his buckle off. He was grateful to get away from the smell of smoke and Shere Khan.
"What, no goodnight kiss?" Bagheera froze and turned to Shere Khan, expression positively scandalized. After a moment the tiger leaned over and cupped his face, pulling him into a long, slow kiss. Bagheera moaned and his hand raised in reaction to the passionate touch, curling around Shere Khan's neck. He suddenly remembered that he hated this male and his hand snapped back over his shoulder and came forward in a bruising slap.
Shere Khan had the decency to look shocked when he jerked back, eyes wide as he stared at the panther.
"You bastard." Bagheera spat before slamming the door in the tiger's face. He stalked up the stairs to his apartment, slamming the door closed before walking to the small bathroom, pulling out the chipped medicine cabinet and setting it on the sink, reaching into the insulated wall to grab hold of an aluminum foil package.
He held the thin packet to his face and inhaled sharply before placing it on the floor, replacing the cabinet and grabbing the LSD. He walked into his living room and sat on the couch, carefully unwrapping the foil envelope and staring at the neat gray-white squares within.
It didn't take a second thought for the panther to pick up one of the 500 micrgram squares and pop it into his mouth, sinking into the couch and letting the drug dissolve in his mouth. After a few moments his body shuddered as his vision distorted and the room tilted, his eyes glazing as he breathed deeply. He stared into space, and to his horror, a pair of sultry golden eyes stared back from a strong, masculine face.
Not even in his drug-enduced hallucinations could he escape Shere Khan.
*