Caffeine and Cuddles: Latte and Oliver # 1
More Furry Smut and Strange-Cute Fetishes by 2020 KeenYeen

“You know, I think you’d make a better art thief.” said a feminine, but monotone voice as another stroke of the paintbrush left the raccoon boy holding it sighing with disappointment. 

He turned around, putting his hands on his hips, and in the process brushing his paintbrush all over his left pant leg, “Oh, and what makes you say that?” he asked with some indignance, staring at the black jeans and tank top clad possum girl who was sitting on his bed, legs crossed, leaned back. 

The possum girl leaned forwards a little and tapped the right side of her head with a playful grin, and half-lidded eyes. “The mask?” she said, then leaned back on the bed once more, ruffling his covers. 

“I can’t help that I was boring with a dashingly roguish face, Latte~” he said, faking smugness with a smile.

“Is that what he calls it?” asked the opossum girl as she fell back on the covers and laughed. 

Oliver’s smile turned to a small frown as she made fun of him, something that Latte caught as she rolled over a little, curling up on his sheets to watch him. Catching his eye, she tilted her head into the covers a little, “Awe, don’t look at me like tha~at.” 

Oliver turned away and sighed, lifting his paintbrush and palette again to start making new strokes on the canvas. “I’ve been trying to improve.” he told her, “I really have, but it feels like it’s just so slow.” 

Latte watched with her soft, purple eyes, and eventually frowned as well. Pushing herself up from the bed, she then stood and approached Oliver from behind, and nabbed the beret right off his head. Oliver turned and was about to protest, but found Latte’s hands cupping the side of his face to squish his cheeks together.

“I need it back.”

“Yurf nawft leabin’ are yu?” he asked, his ears drooping at the thought. 

The opossum girl shook her head and smiled, “No, but I think you need a break. Come outside with me. Let’s go to the roof!” she suggested with a smile, though her eyes remained as inexpressive as ever despite it. “Put that stuff down and let’s go!” she said impatiently. 

A few minutes later they were bursting through the door to the roof of their apartment complex and out into the cold night air. Laughing, Latte tried to shut the door behind her to slow Oliver down, then put her foot at the base of it to hold him in. 

“Don’t come in, I’m naked!” Latte barked at the door, giggling as he tried to push against the door, which she had effectively barred and could not be moved from. Her ears perked as he called back. 

“Oh if only. Now I HAVE to get through.” he said, “Better moooove~!”

Latte laughed and took off running across the rooftop, away from the door. “You’re a scoundrel!” she quipped, heading for one of the many piles of junk on the roof which had been arranged in various manners to simulate couches or tents by the various residents of the complex. 

Oliver burst through the door and looked around. 

“Big shower!” he called out, seeing that Latte had hidden herself, “I had no idea~!”

A small chuckle came from somewhere across the treated, flat roofing of the building, which barely reflected any of the bright moonlight that night, thanks to its grainy texture; Like shingles, but only if the whole roof was a giant one. Oliver moved across the moonlit surface, his eyes glowing in the dark, a smile on his face. Behind him he heard a spraycan fall over, rolling across the floor. He lunged, moving to where it had fallen, and checked behind the pile of boxes which it had been closest to, leaning on them as he peered around the edge. 

Nothing!

Another giggle, this time behind him, saw him turn around and rush towards one of the old, makeshift tents which had been set up by another tenant for some time, made of chain link fence and a tarp. He had no idea how he got that stuff up there. Rushing over, he pushed aside the tarp as it moved subtly, only to find that it had been the wind. 

“Try agai~in!” she called. 

“What if I don’t?” he asked, laughing, “What if I just leave you up here?”

“Well you’d be a spoilsport!”

Oliver put his hands on his hips and thought deeply, staring at the ground and tapping his foot. She was a better hider than he was! She had always been better than he was at hiding.

“I can’t find her… but maybe I can trick her…” he considered. “If I go where she isn’t…”

Oliver looked around, and spotting a length of weed-eater wire which had been left atop a giant spool that someone had set up as a table near the tent, developed a plan.

Meanwhile, Latte snickered quietly, and watched him from behind a pallet of bricks that had been set under a scaffold. Realizing he wasn’t coming her way though, she became curious, and peered out from her hiding place to see him tinkering with something. 

“What’s that trash panda up to…?” she whispered quietly, but before she could get a good look, he moved out of her field of view. Craning her neck, she still could not see him, and he seemed to have disappeared among the junk and makeshift shacks, just like she had. She knew he was a worse hider than she was… and so she crept among the junk, lifting her legs carefully, and reaching out to stabilize herself as she went, sure to avoid touching anything that might give her position away by accident. Still, she did not see him! Perplexed, she crept along some more, then spotted a chair move as if of its own accord. He had given his position away. Now that she knew where he was, she smiled. He’d never find her if she knew, and made a dash for a new place, behind a bench. 

Panting softly, she settled against the chest-high wall that went all around the edge of the building, and smiled. Safe again. 

“Come here often?” 

Latte almost jumped clean out of her little black tank top! Heart in her throat she almost scampered away, but it was Oliver’s voice she’d heard! Catching herself, she laughed and looked over at him. That raccoon had the biggest, dumbest smile on his face. 

“You’re learning!” she laughed, which turned his smile into a grin, “But you’ve still got a long way to go!”

“Why’s that?” he asked, tilting his head as she pushed up against the wall to get into a crouching position.

“Because…” she said, stabilizing herself, “AMBUSH!” and then tackled him out from behind two 40 gallon rain-drums that they’d ended up behind.

Oliver and Latte rolled out onto the open, dusty roof’s open space again, with Latte pinning him down. Oliver huffed, then reached up and stole the opossum girls’ beret right off her head, and held it ‘up’ above his head, with Latte swiping and missing for it as she attempted to maintain her straddling position overtop him. 

“Hey!” she yelped, laughing, “Give it back, my ears will get cold!”

“You have a long way to go!” he mocked, holding it further away to one side, then the other as she reached for it.

Latte reached out, waving her arm at it, until she eventually fell forwards and smooshed Oliver’s grey and black-masked face with her tank-topped chest. 

“... Somfon’s noft wurring a bra t’day.” he commented beneath her.

Latte rolled her eyes, grasped the hat, and leaned back up to sit atop his thighs once more, proud and tall. Bringing the cap high above her head, she gingerly brought it back down, tilted her head up and to the side as if to dismiss him, and then placed it on her head. 

“And it’ll be the LAST time you’ll get to feel them tonight!” she said, lowering her hands to her black, jean-clad hips. 

Oliver’s ears drooped a little as she held that pose for a moment, only for her to crack a smile that slowly widened as she opened her eyes again to stare down at him. 

“... unless you go back inside and get a blanket for us.” she said.

Oliver nodded and the wide-eyed gaze she was so familiar with returned. He was always boyish that way. Childish in his expressions and even his manners occasionally, but ever so full of wonder and direction when he put his mind to it. A free spirit, with passion. She loved it. 

Latte lifted herself off of him and shooed him away. “Go on, before I freeze to death out here!” she laughed, huge, wispy clouds of steam escaping her lips. Oliver scrambled up to his feet, and turned around, then headed for the roof entrance to go back down. Walking around a bit herself, she sought out a long, orange cord and bent down, but stopped just in time to see Oliver turn around at the door. 

Then he smiled, but it wasn’t the usual one. It was subtle. A ‘wow, I can’t believe I caught that/’ kind of smile. Just a little, and with a slight rise of the eyebrows. Of course she knew...he was looking at her ass. She’d bent over. It didn’t take a genius to know, and as he turned away, she shook her head and almost called him out on it. 

“I’ve never seen him look at me like that…” she muttered, her heart slightly fluttering in her chest, “... Maybe I imagined it…?”

She ran the memory over in her head again, then a few more times for good measure. She shook her head. 

“Nope… It was real... !”

Something about it excited her, but it was difficult to put into words. Like silent flattery, with a hint of subtle dirtiness. It was exciting! Maybe he was becoming a man? A real… man…? Latte caught herself. Oliver WAS a man, just… not the kind of man her parents wanted for her. She frowned. 

“I can’t let their attitude towards them hurt my perception of him.” she recited in her head, and reached down to plug that cord she had been after moments before into the wall. “He’s a good man, and he’s got potential. I just know it.”

Standing back up to her full height, Latte put her hands on her hips and looked around at the lights which had come on as a result. Christmas lights, construction lamps, and cheap bulb fixtures had been strung all across the roof, added to, taken down, moved, and modified for almost as long as the building had existed. It showed. There were lights above her that were older than she was. Or at least there were strings of which that were. She smiled.

It was a far cry from what she was used to, thinking back to all those times she had sat at the dinner table ‘just so,’ to times where she had to wear dresses she didn’t like, to talk to people she wasn’t fond of. All the dinner dates her parents had set up with guys she had no interest in because they only ever talked business, and had nothing she found interesting to them. Rolling her eyes at her own memories, she heard the sound of that ancient door back down into the warmth of the building squeal and scrape, and turned her gaze back to it.

She shook her head, and laughed as she brought her right hand up against her cheek and bent over a little. 

“You overdid it!” she called to Oliver, who had come back up with probably the biggest pile of blankets that she had ever seen in his arms.

Latte jogged over to him and put a hand on one of his arms. “Let me help…” she said softly, and stared into his eyes. For a moment, she was stunned. They always danced in a way that took the lights around them and made his already spectacularly bright gaze turn into an aurora of color. She felt her heart skip again. The innocence had returned to his face, no trace of that odd, hungry gaze from before, but she could have stared into those depths forever. 

“My arms are getting tired.” she heard him say, as Oliver smiled back at her. “... Let’s go set these up so we can see the city.”

She shook her head, “... I have a better idea… Let’s… go back inside. I want to show you something. I think you’ll like it. Take these back, and meet me at the shower.” she instructed. 

Bewildered, Oliver nodded and huffed a little. 

“Just a little longer… you little bandit…” Latte thought to herself as she held the door open for him and then followed him down. 

Oliver carried all the blankets back down into his bedroom. He was a little miffed, sure, but not enough to be mad. More than anything, he was curious. 

“What could she want to show me in the -shower-?” he asked, just as a flash of dirty images flooded his mind. He blushed a little, and looked around at the room he lived in. It was clean, with old, scratched wooden floors. He had a big, wide bed. It had been there when he arrived, and he’d replaced the mattress with a lot of effort. It took up most of the room, which was his entire living space. No closet, so he hung what few clothes he had on a makeshift rack that had been there when he moved in. Lastly, had set aside a small corner of the place not for a television or computer, but a miniature art studio, where he painted almost constantly. He frowned. 

“My paintings never make more than enough to eat and buy more paint and canvas…” sighed the raccoon. “She always hangs out with me, but I…”

More dirty thoughts filled his mind. The way she’d bent over earlier! Gosh! And her smile? The way her voice rang when she sang songs while he painted? Maybe they weren’t the dirtiest thoughts, but just seeing her gave him a rock-hard stiffy and he couldn’t help it! She had beautiful eyes, a calm personality, and he loved the way she just… stared at him. It would have been a lie to say that he hadn’t imagined her naked and in his bed. 

Or that he would have loved to paint on her body. Not that he would ever tell her! Not now. Instead, he just turned away from his paintings and headed back out into the hall. The whole place had an air of majesty about it. Beautiful, but worn, modlings and wall cut-ins made the place look like it had been a hotel of some rapport in the past, and the occasional old chair and side table with fresh flowers added to the idea. That and the long, somewhat dusty carpets that were placed the entire distance of each hallway. Some were threadbare in places. Thankfully there was a shower on his floor, so he did not have to look long for Latte, who was waiting outside the shower rooms with a small bag. As he looked at her, she blushed, and looked away, as if she were carrying some big secret.

“So you… you came…” she said nervously.

Oliver nodded and smiled, “Yeah… why wouldn’t I?” he asked. 

Latte remained silent for a moment, her long, pink tail flicking nervously, “... I… Um. Never mind. Come on, let’s go inside.”

“Together?” he asked, somewhat perplexed. 

“Yes together!” she said, a little too loudly, then heaved in a deep breath that made her breasts rise beneath the loose fabric of her tank top. She frowned, bit her lip and shook her head, then grabbed him by the wrist. “Come on before I freak out and change my mind, okay!?” she asked, and forced him into the shower room.

Inside the aquamarine and white tiled walls of the shower room, Latte pulled him as far away from the door as she could, passing stall after stall, until they were at the very back. She peered inside the cubicle there, shook her head, and then pulled him into the second one. Oliver blushed and remained silent. 

“Come on… take of your clothes!” she almost whined at him, “... I can’t do this if the shower’s not on…!”

“We don’t have any towels!” he commented, “... Lemme go get mine…”

Latte grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back in. “No!” she hissed and then spun him around. “Stay. I don’t care. Just stay!” Then she kissed him square on the lips.

Oliver had never experienced anything like this before with her. A kiss! His heart soared along with hers for just the briefest of moments, before he took a leap of faith… and reached behind her to pull at the small of her back to force her closer. She arose into him pressing her warm middle into him. Latte could feel his length beneath his pants. Flattering for sure, and exactly what she wanted, right up there with the way he was taking her breath away. She reached back, and grasped his arm, and pulled it away from her back  as she parted with his lips. 

“Lower…” she said breathlessly, and guided his hand down to her rear.

For Oliver, this was a dream come true. If only he knew what else was to come.