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I broke up with him

What a thing to wake up to, right? I mean, other than the thing that had woken me up earlier in the night. After that I'd stayed awake (or, rather, been kept awake, by my own damn body) for a while longer, and when I rolled over and settled back down to sleep, the exhaustion hit me like a wave. I guess more like a wave as it retreated, tugging back on me, pulling me along no matter how hard I tried to go against it. Not that I necessarily wanted to: it was spring break and I didn't have a job. There was no reason for me to not get as much sweet sleep as I could.

Next time I opened my eyes was when the sun already shone through the window across the room, dulled and tinted by the drawn curtains. Heavy, hanging weight of sleepiness on my chest and my eyes, pleasant drowsy warmth... this was how breaks always went, and I'd have it no other way.

It took a while for Lexi's text to really register in my thoughts, though. After the late-morning time, that was the first thing I saw when I reached over and turned on my phone screen, but it didn't really... didn't really click until I'd rolled out of bed and gotten a new pair of jeans half-tugged up my legs. A few certain other things bumbled around in my head - such as the dull, stiff twitching that tented out my boxers, even though I'd already taken care of that the first time I woke up in the middle of the night - before that realization really took hold, though. When it did I swiped my phone back up, fly still unzipped, and worked out an answer.

I guess more of a response than an answer. A reaction.

"What? Are you serious? Are you ok?"

So many things happening at once... even though I kept my phone clutched in my paw, even though I would've felt if it vibrated again, I still ended up checking another four or five times before she got back to me. I hadn't paid attention to the timestamp of that first message, to be honest. While reading I lounged back in my desk chair, and reached over to turn my computer on.

Yeah. Started in at him right after I got home from meeting you yesterday. He, uh... I don't think he gets in arguments very often, which is pretty impressive considering how often he's wrong about things. Would you believe me if I told you I had to tell him things like three times before he acted like he heard me?

Whirr of the tower fan, beep of the monitor turning on, growing humming of the other fans and the disk drive... the screen took a few seconds to wake up after I gave the mouse a little wiggle. Thing was probably long overdue for an upgrade, but, like. Money, man.

I think the worst part is that he tried to act like all of this was news to him. Like I hadn't brought up these subjects with him before. Surprise, surprise: that just made me even more sure of one of my reasons.

Hell, the computer took about as long to wake up as I did. First thing I did once it came up was go over to take a look at my friends list, see if Tony was online. "What would that be?"

He's fucking immature! A boy likes another boy in the same, like, twenty feet as him. Oh waah, big deal. That's not the only thing, though. He kept on trying to make me out to be the bad guy. I didn't actually bring up the whole breaking-up thing until the end of the conversation.

"Was he at your place?"

No, I called him on the phone. I have to admit, I was scared, Matt. I knew that if we did it face to face, I wouldn't have been able to keep it up and finish it off like I really wanted.

'wanderchee is offline'. Dang. I'd have to send him a message when me and Lexi finished up here. And honestly - I had to give this vixen credit; I couldn't even bear that much when I broke up with Sasha, both times. I did both of those over text, and I remember stoically ignoring every time she tried to call me. Dick move? I mean... yeah, probably. I really feel like that wasn't unwarranted, though.

I'm at least relieved that he didn't try to argue when I finally told him, though. Knowing him, though, he's probably gonna try to get me back in a day or so.

Then in another, separate message:

Jesus. You're stronger than I ever thought, matt. How did you manage Sasha? I had a hard time just with this once, and he didn't even try to stop me.

"How are you feeling about it now? What are you gonna do if he does try to talk to you again?"

I'm gonna tell him no. I'm confident that I made the right choice in this, Matt. I already told Sandra and talked with her earlier... you can probably guess what she said. A whole lot of 'hell yeah, it's about fuckin time' and whatever. I'm worried I hurt her too, you know? By putting this shit off for so long.

"Yeah, but, like..." Here I bumped my head against the cushioned back of the chair and looked up towards the ceiling. Still the fan spun slowly overhead, sending little tickling eddies of cool air through my bare chestfur. I closed my eyes, licked my lips, swallowed... opened them again and looked back down to the screen. "How are you -feeling-?"

Unlike that last response, this one took Lexi a while. In that space, I had time to open up my email, read through some update notes on the game me and Tony had played last night, checked my messages (which totaled to a whopping zero) on two other sites - and was just about to stand up to go rummage up something to eat when my phone vibrated again.

I feel good. I feel free. Like I could run two miles. Hey Matt, are you free tomorrow? Let's hang out. I'll treat us to dinner if you're up for it. I would've offered for today, but Sandra already said she's gonna take me out, and uh... well, I don't know how to say no to her. Actually I don't know if such a thing is possible.

That actually brought the smile back to my muzzle. All of that, from her actual answer to the invitation to the little thing about Sandra. The whole thing about Tyler still stung for me - it would for quite a while, I think; he'd been the only person I was comfortable with calling my best friend up until me and Lexi started to talk more, and that hadn't been until early last school year - but...

"I would, but me and Tony have plans tomorrow evening. We gotta finish up a group project." And certainly other things, I'm sure. I kept that part to myself; thinking about it brought back that same warm fluttering in my chest that kissing him had given me.

And everything else that was going on, all of these changes... all of that felt good. Damn good.

~ ~ ~

Turned out Tony had elected to spend today practicing before the big orchestra rehearsal coming up this weekend - and by 'elected' I mean 'was elected to', since reading through the texts he sent me later that afternoon, Ari showed up at his house alongside Ky and another tall, slim white fox, and told the cheetah that that's what they intended to do.

He told me about it in more detail over voice while we got back into another game that night. The fox's name was Elias, and he sat as first chair second violinist: he led many of the parts that ran counterpoint to Ky's solo, 'which explains why we brought him along', Ari had apparently said, with that big maned-wolf grin on his face. Hearing about Tony finding new friends and hanging out with them... that made me happy, too. I think I'd like to spend some time with all of them - or at least, I would, if I wasn't already certain I wouldn't fit in. You know how it is.

Dad came up at one point to let me know that dinner was ready, so I muted my mic and then brought up the whole "can Tony spend the night tomorrow" thing. Would be best if I just came out with it and asked instead of dwelling on it and just making myself even more nervous.

For a moment I wasn't sure if he'd respond seriously, or with a joke. He kind of leaned against the threshold of my bedroom door, one arm propped up above his head, whiskers angled forward in thought... and then after a second, his eyes fixed on me, though his muzzle remained pointing more towards my bed than towards me.

"You're an adult..." he began, and then paused with his lips pursed, to then spread into a brief grin. "And you can make your own decisions. At least, I hope you can. Anyway - if you think you're ready for that, Matt, I'm not gonna tell you no. Just... be careful and be safe, okay? And if you're not ready, there's always one of the other guest rooms-"

"Dad, I never said we'd be sleeping together..." Honestly, I was trying to avoid thinking about that, myself. Like I said before, thinking about Tony and tomorrow night brought up that same lovely warmth, but... beneath that warmth stirred a stiff, cold nervousness.

"Yeah, yeah. You're an eighteen-year-old boy. You're a high school senior. Whatever you choose to do between now and when you graduate college-" He lifted one finger, and raised his eyebrows at me- "-if you choose to go that route, is none of my business."

I swallowed, and straightened up a little bit. "So... can he...?"

Dad held my gaze for a few moments longer, squinting his eyes... and then shrugged. "Yeah, I don't have a problem with it. I like him; he's nice. Also, I don't think I really have to worry about you getting pregnant... I hope." He half-turned to leave, paw on the doorknob, but then stopped and leaned back just far enough to meet my eyes again. "Oh. Before I forget. College is something I wanna talk to you about sometime before your semester ends, so. Keep that in mind, pup."

"Okay, Dad." I reached forward to turn my mic back up, then paused. "Um - thank you."

"Yeah. No problem. You're my son; I want you to be happy." This time he pointed that finger at me, instead of up into the air. "Don't tell your mother I let you do this."

"She doesn't even know about - about..."

"Yeah, I bet."

That would be an interesting bridge to cross.

"Well." He drummed his fingers against the side of the door. "Like I said, dinner's ready. Eat down there or up here, whatever works for you. I have a show I wanna watch, and then I'm up early for work tomorrow, so I think I'll be heading to bed soon after. Keep me updated on Tony tomorrow, okay?"

"Will do." I gave him a smile, and he gladly and easily returned it. With that I turned back to the game, and flicked my mic back on. "Sorry about that. That was Dad... I just asked if you could stay the night tomorrow."

The cheetah had continued playing while we spoke, which meant that I sat on the clear opposite side of the map from him and had to rush to catch up. When I found him, he had his character just running around in circles. "And what did he say?"

That sort-of nervousness I mentioned earlier? That was still there, but softer, quieter. More distant. Like when you're sitting with your paws towards the blazing fireplace, though the end of your tail is still aware of the winter storm blowing outside. But that's fine, since as long as you're near that fire, the storm is just an afterthought, something that only digs at your thoughts if you intentionally seek it out.

"He said sure."

Sounded like Tony was sitting near his own proverbial fire, too. I could almost see the sparkles in his eyes, the perk in his ears and whiskers, the way his sharp little cat-teeth showed in his grin. "Ohh! Wonderful. I will tell Mamá. She enjoys you, and I think she likes your dad, too..."

~ ~ ~

Unsurprisingly, that night turned out to be another where, no matter how I tried and in which position I ended up, sleep still evaded me, lingering just out of reach so I could feel its presence but couldn't quite wrap it around me. All those thoughts and scenarios coming back and mingling in my mind, stirring in my head, mixing together and filling me with a mixture of sweet, pleasant warmth and dry nervousness... I think it was four different times that I picked up my phone in preparation to send a message to someone, only to then be unable to decide who.

And when morning finally did come, time still felt to stretch out a bit. What first woke me up was the sound of Dad closing the door behind him early in the morning when he left for work; then it was the big garbage truck passing by on the road outside about an hour and a half later; and then the air-conditioning as it turned on tugged a door to slam shut down the hall; and then an empty stomach finally stirred me into actually getting up and doing something, right around noon.

Four PM. That was the time me and Tony had agreed upon. That would give us time to hang out beforehand, time to scrounge something up for dinner... a little time to ourselves before Dad got home. Too bad it would take forever to get to four in the afternoon, though. After putting together what could pass for a high schooler's breakfast, I still remained in the kitchen and floated around from fridge to pantry to cupboard to fridge under the guise of planning something for dinner tonight, but in reality, no thoughts of that sort occupied my head.

Can you blame me? Tony seemed busy again, or maybe he'd just stayed up too late and as such had slept in, so there was... nothing really for me to do for a while. Nothing that I really wanted to do, I mean. Sure, I still had a little bit of homework for my other classes, and plenty of games on my computer, but... none of that particularly appealed to me. There were other things that claimed my attention. I tried for Lexi, too, but not even she seemed to be around.

Still, though. I knew that that homework wasn't going to do itself, and any sort of progress would be progress enough, and that was a good thing. So I spread that out across my desk and tried to chisel away at it, checking my phone what felt like every forty seconds to see if the time had changed, if another minute had passed, maybe two. If Tony had responded.

Eventually he did, around one. And it felt like his message was what kicked time back into gear, to make it continue at its original pace. With music playing at a low volume from my music speakers and grabbing my phone every now and then to talk to Tony - to my boyfriend - I actually ended up finishing the assignment, which meant that other than the astronomy project, I had no other real responsibilities for school during this break. And that last one should get finished later tonight.

Should. Probably would. Though it'd just been, what, two days ago that I last saw him, my arms still itched to wrap around him, my shoulder tickled with the desire to feel his nose against it, my lips...

Ugh. It was gonna be a long three hours. Once the clock down in the corner of my computer screen ticked over to 4:00, I got hit with a sudden restless desire to stand up and walk around. I went downstairs, I came back upstairs, I went into the bathroom but didn't do anything, I walked into Dad's room, went back into the bathroom because I'd left the light on, wandered back downstairs...

My phone, held close in my paw, vibrated. I am on my way c: *nuzzles* He didn't really live that far, away, right? I'd driven him home just Tuesday night. I wondered if he'd come with a backpack, or just the clothes on his back, or some other things... we hadn't really discussed what his sleeping situation would be, but part of me thought that he had as good an idea of what would happen as I did.

And, then, there was the worry about him, too. He had a bit of trouble trusting people - I could see that. He'd told me that. Especially people that he had an interest in. What if he didn't really want to sleep together, what if my dream the other night - still I shivered to think about it, a sweet, indulgent shiver - was just that, and nothing more? Hell - what if he didn't feel the same interest for me that I did for him?

Goddammit. And to think I was the one who'd never looked at another boy like this before. Things, feelings like this had never happened with Sasha, never with anyone else I might've liked.

Should I start cooking something? I hadn't asked if he'd eaten yet. Maybe I should look around and dig up the other controller to the gaming console my brother left here when he moved out, or... I guess I should check the weather to see if these clear skies will hold out long enough for us to go on a walk around the neighborhood, or maybe we c-

Doorbell rang. Somehow I'd made my way into the kitchen downstairs and now stood with one paw on the side of the pantry door - the door itself, not the handle - with my eyes scanning through the shelves but seeing nothing there. Breathe in, breathe out; there was nothing different about. Tony was just coming over to hang out.

Only then, though, did I realize that I hadn't put a shirt on since waking up. Oh God. Wasn't enough time to sprint upstairs, find something, tumble back downstairs... so instead I just strode over to the front door in the next room, breathed in again, reached out to open it...

...and staggered backwards with the force of Tony's body jumping forward against my own, arms quickly and easily wrapping themselves around my shoulders and tugging me tight against him. "Hello, Matt," he purred, and ran his nose up a few times along the fur of my neck. Before my mind could throw any more complaints or worries at me, my body had taken over to mirror that hug, arms coming up around his back, paws squeezing his slim body, muzzle angling down to nuzzle at his cheek. Out of the corner of my eyes, already half-closed, his mom's car started to pull away; I thought I could see her grinning as she watched.

Once the sound of the engine faded, the two of us were left there, still halfway in and halfway out of the house. Tony fell back onto his feet out of the hug, though kept his arms where they had drifted around my waist; bright amber-orange eyes, sparkling like the sun, followed my muzzle when I pulled back out of my nosing into his neck, and in that moment all of my worries seemed distant and insignificant.

Also in that moment, I felt the intense want to kiss him again. I think he knew; I might've given that away in the tightening of my arms around him, the twitching of my whiskers, how I licked my lips. The cheetah watched me for a moment longer, kind of rhythmically drummed his fingerpads against my bare lower back, gave me a little squeeze... and then leaned in to start that kiss, seal it, finish it, soft and gentle, not quite the hungry indulgent passion that we'd shared when I dropped him off the other day.

But still just as nice. Maybe even more so.

When we finally fell back from that, and it felt like it went on for quite a while, we both had on this kind of... kind of embarrassed yet confident smile, and I could feel the blush in my ears as much as see it in his.

"So, um..." Our paws each drifted down away from the other's body, until our fingers intertwined between us. Warm fur, warmer fingerpads, tight grip. My heart thumped in my chest. "It's not quite dark out yet. Do you wanna - like, look around for something to eat? To cook?"

The cheetah's ears perked up. "Do you have meat?"

"There's beef in the freezer-"

"What about peppers?"

"I think so."

"Cheese?"

"Yeah, lots - do you have an-"

"An idea!" He bounced on his feet, and grinned at me. "Come on. Let's cook. When is your dad coming home?..."

~ ~ ~

As much as Ms. Amador had said that Tony stays away from doing anything useful in the kitchen, he sure seemed to know his way around his cuisine. Maybe he just wanted to impress me, to cook for me and give me something I enjoyed, like I did for him when he came over earlier in the week. The two of us floated back and forth around the kitchen, from the sink to the stove to the fridge to the counter and back, myself under his guidance and instruction and him just kind of poking his black-leather nose into the various pantries and cupboards and looking around at what we had to work with.

By the time Dad got home we were almost done, and the look on his face was one I hadn't seen since my brother Lee showed up for a surprise visit two years ago. Tony guided the older dingo over to the table, paws on his arms to push him in the right direction. Now, we didn't have the proper, 'traditional' fajita-serving platter like they always bring out at Mexican restaurants (Tony rolled his eyes at me when I said this), but like... we had plates, and that was good enough. Plenty of tortillas from earlier in the week, some of the leftover cheese from the enchiladas, some other things.

After dinner the sun had just barely started to roll down past the horizon and turn the sky that pretty sherbert swathe of orange, pink, and lavender. Dad eyed us after we cleaned up - we stood close together but held off on holding paws or hugging or really doing anything too extravagant like that in front of him; Tony was shy, and I sure as hell wasn't quite that confident yet - and pursed his lips as if he wanted to say something, but then changed his mind and waved us off. During dinner we'd spoken about school and this weird little astronomy assignment ("it's so weird! It takes so little effort, and feels like some kind of half-baked idea just to give us something to do, and to force us into a group project"), so he just muttered something about that and waved us off, heading back towards the living room to lounge in his favorite chair. One of his shows came out with a new episode every Thursday evening.

Me and Tony looked at each other, and without a word entwined our fingers again. Now that pleasant warmth I'd felt when he first got here and turned into a kind of humid tepidity, the kind of warmth from a pool of stagnant water left beneath the gaze of the sun. Nervousness. That's what that was. Beneath the bright smile, the excited bouncing, the animation from when he was cooking, sour nervousness bubbled beneath. I knew that feeling, where you get all of this... energy, so to say, from all of the feelings bouncing and battling inside of your heart and your head. Hell, that was the same energy that pulsed through me that one night outside of his house, when all of this had started.

Well. When it had formally, officially started. We each knew that it had really started, for both us, quite a while ago. With that first day I saw him before class, and helped him find his rooms. That was when, I think.

So, seeing and feeling him nervous like this, him repeatedly adjusting the grip of his paw around mine, I led him over towards the back door, unlocked it, and stepped out into the still-mostly-warm air of early evening, him close behind me. It'd still be a while before the stars came out, and even then, a while longer before we could document and compare them to other other measurements, but still. It was nice out here.

The door closed behind us. A gentle breeze blew, bringing with it an almost-coolness that rustled through fur and tickled whiskers, and then was gone with only a few dropped leaves to show that it had been. I let my paw drop from his, and instead shifted both of mine down his sides, stroking his short, soft fur through his shirt, and feeling the way his body relaxed and responded in turn.

"Are you okay?" I said, and tilted my head. He avoided my eyes, his looking like liquid drops of tonight's sky concentrated and refined into glittering glass. "You were doing great when you got here, but then after dinner, you all of a sudden clammed up. I can - I can feel that you're nervous, you know..."

At this last, he gave a little jump, as if I'd startled him. Those eyes flicked up to mine, held my gaze, dropped away again. His little pink tongue flitted out over his lips. "I cannot help it. Matt, I... I got hurt last time I liked a boy."

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"That is what he said, too. I cannot help it, I just... I am thinking about something else, and then all of a sudden those thoughts come crashing in, and I cannot think about anything else. I have been scared of liking someone new ever since then, and that... does not make it any better."

"Tony..." I swallowed, and this time slid my paws up beneath his shirt, directly along and against his fur. That made him shiver, and with the movement, a little whiff of his scent, dry and gentle, tickled at my nose. "If you're... scared of getting into a relationship, I won't force you. I - I like you a lot. I really do. But I don't wanna force you to d-"

"No." His paw settled against my chest, and pressed firmly. "I want to. Do you know the one thing that has helped me fight off those thoughts, recently?"

"No..."

His fingers tightened a little bit, claws just barely, barely catching onto my shirt, without pricking into my fur and skin beneath. "You. I have liked you like nobody else. Not since that first boy. Maybe more. It is just - it is a silly, stupid thing, my... my, ah..."

"Insecurity?"

"Perhaps. My fear." Suddenly, his ears splayed to the sides, and he dodged eye contact again. "I am afraid of the dark, too..."

"I have a night light-"

"But. It is you, Matt." Sunset to sunrise, sparkle of sunlight across cool water... that paw on my chest relaxed, and came around towards my back. "I think about him, and that hurts, and I can feel the anxiousness close in around me. I... used to cry, at night. I would hug my little lobo and cry, because he had hurt me, and I was scared that everyone else I liked would do the same. That I would never find someone I could hug like that. But then I think of you, and... you have shown me nothing like that, nothing that would make me worry. Nothing that should make me worry. In fact, you bring me... ah..."

The cheetah flexed his free arm. I blinked. "Strength?"

"No. Close."

"...Confidence?"

"Confidence! You bring me confidence. You make me feel... comfortable. And it feels... so nice to let that happen. To let all of that worry go away, and just enjoy the way you make me feel." His whiskers twitched forward. "And then I come home, or I go to bed, and you are not there. And the worry creeps back in."

My ears perked. "Can I do something to promise that I won't hurt you?"

And when he looked at me, it brought the same lovely warmth as opening the door and pushing my muzzle out into the light of a warm spring day. "How do you intend to do that, perrito?"

Jeez. Talk about confidence. Wow. That actually knocked me off-guard, and it took me a few seconds to fumble around for what it was I'd wanted to say. "I - well, I mean... I can do something for you that you can always think back to, whenever you're worried or scared..."

He raised his eyebrows, quiet appreciative amusement sparkling in his gaze. Even though from where I stood I could see the flickering of the TV through one of the living room windows, it felt like this cheetah and myself were in our own world. Just us, and the gentle breeze, and the deepening sunset. "Mm?"

"Well..." And I licked my lips, and swallowed, and looked between his eyes. Then I slid my paws out from beneath his shirt, twiddled them at his hips... and brought them up, only to then lower them back down around his shoulders, and keep them draped loosely there. With me settling into that position, his arms relaxed around my waist, and he half-tiled his muzzle.

I touched my nose to his forehead, moved it down to his nose, let out a light exhalation that made his whiskers twitch, and from there we just... melted into each other, arms tightening around the other, lips first brushing, then locking, then releasing, then locking again.

I didn't think. It wasn't thought that guided my actions then; I just followed what it was that my body felt, what everything else told me to do. I tilted my head, parted my lips, curled my tongue in against his, tightened my arms around his shoulders... I brought one paw up the back of his head, dug my fingers into his fur at the base of one of his ears, let an unintentional shiver rack my body with his fingers kneading into the small of my back. His paws held my waist tight, and pulled me against him - and then it was a different kind of want and tension that rippled up through me.

Undeniable hot, firm stiffness at the front of his pants, just beneath the fly of his jeans, pressed twitching against my own. One of his paws came up to caress my muzzle, while the other remained tight on my hip to hold me there as he grinded forward against me; I traced my fingers over his paw on my cheek, and let my other drift down to the center of his back, then from there to his side. Had to save my breathing for the spaces between the individual kisses, since there was no room to otherwise.

The door jiggled gently on its hinges as Tony's back bumped against it, and pushed a light huff out from his nose. I swallowed, licked my lips in another break between the kisses, briefly met his eyes... and dove back in, one paw now braced against the wood of the door above and to the side of his head, hips grinding and working against him. I could feel the intense heat of his groin against mine, the way that every one of our little thrusts made him twitch and throb. The rest of the world fell away; it was just the two of us, and this door - this wall - I had him pressed against.

His paw had fallen from my cheek, to my shoulder, to my chest, and still I followed it with my own, squeezing around his fingers. Sharp little cat teeth nipped at my upper lip, gently scraped across my tongue; the breaths he took between our kisses came out as panting huffs, each one with a little bit more voice behind it, a little bit more of a moan; that paw turned, squeezed around mine, mirrored what he'd been doing to me on himself. Warmth of his body through his shirt, grain of his fur, smooth and thick and soft... and the slight, slight stiffness of muscles, of abs from his soccer days. He had me slide my paw further down, down his belly, over the waistband and button of his pants... and settled me around the bulge of his hard shaft, twitching, hot, hard. He didn't have to make me squeeze him; I did that on my own.

Orange eyes fluttered open, shadowed by the dim light; I drew out of the kiss once more to swallow, slickness of hungry saliva both mine and his heavy on my tongue, and shifted to adjust my position - but the cheetah took the opportunity and, with his other paw, seized my wrist above him, grabbed my hip, spun me around-

-and pinned me down against the mattress beneath us, his legs tight around my thighs, his muzzle just barely visible in the green glow from the nightlight across the room, and showing a strength and determination of expression that I'd never seen before. Dad had gone to bed about an hour and a half ago, and the two of us had retreated into my room to finish up our assignment and put on a movie to watch.

We'd gotten a bit distracted, though.