A New Family - Chapter 4

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#4 of A New Family (Yakuza, but Furry)

Marlo and his family celebrate... something. He isn't quite sure what.

In another time, long ago, Marlo meets Roxanne.


Tip of the day: BEWARE THE DUENDE. You'll be out waking in the street just minding you own business when a little duende will poke his head out and go mimimimimi and chase you with his stubby little arms and legs. If you encounter duende please report the incident to the proper duende authorities.


The room was filled with a low thrum as overhead lights struggled to stay on. An engine kicked itself awake from somewhere overhead and, in a moment's notice, the room got a few degrees cooler. Water from a distant faucet trickled to the beat of every fourth second.

"Moths fluttered helplessly against a large opaque window as they were attracted by a false moon."

Roxanne repeated the words in her head as she glanced from her journal to meet her captive audience of refrigerated beverages, air-tight cans of spam, and a select few snack choices. Over and over she thought of the moths, then turned her violet eyes and looked at them for a few seconds.

"Too wordy," she said to herself as she looked back down at her journal and -- a dozen crossed-out sentences met her, each one worse than the last. She sighed and added one more to the grave. "Fuck..."

DING.

She instinctively reached for a shelf just over her shoulder, the cramped space behind the register affording her very little room to move in. Her large hands dexterously found a rather specific carton of menthol cigarettes which were slammed down on the counter beside the cash register. Somewhere out of sight a fox rummaged through the beer cooler. Her eyes did not once leave her journal.

"Moths... window..." The words eluded her. Some frustrating part of her kept saying, just write. She wanted to take that little voice and crush it up real small.

Something clattered and crashed across the floor just loudly enough that Roxanne forced herself to look up and finally pay some attention. A lone bottle rolled into view from all the way at the end of the aisle directly across from where she sat. She stared at it for a few seconds then heard a voice call out from somewhere unseen:

"Sorry!"

The fox's voice was tired, hoarse, and just barely audible, but the apology was genuine enough for her. Roxanne shrugged and turned her attention back down to her writing as she leaned heavily against the counter, her left hand supporting the weight of her head. The words 'be more careful' formed in her throat but she very quickly lost herself back in her writing and expressed nothing but a short huff.

Helpless moths fluttered against a window as they chased a false moon.

Roxanne didn't look up as the fox finally shuffled up to her and began to set down two, three... at the very least a dozen bottles of beer. He could barely hold them all in his arms. She gave them all a quick glance, pushed the carton of cigarettes in his direction, and began to tap numbers into a calculator.

"Going to a party?" She casually asked, her attention squarely set on the numbers she was adding up. His lack of reply, save for a little huff that mirrored her own just moments ago, got her to look up.

The fox was usually all smiles and conversation, a lively expression almost always plastered on his face despite the late hours of the night. At times he'd speak with a comically expressive wave of his hands. He always made the effort of asking how she was doing despite her always giving him the short end of an answer.

Tonight wasn't one of those nights.

"When's the last time you got any sleep?" Roxanne bluntly asked as she started placing the first of the beer bottles into a plastic bag, one at a time to draw out the conversation. His lethargic, uncaring response and the dark swollen bags under his eyes was answer enough. "Uh... you sure you should be out partying tonight?"

The fox finally replied; his voice was as rough as he looked, as if he hadn't flexed his vocal chords in weeks. "Not a party."

That loud shirt he always seemed to wear was all disheveled and wrinkled, at some points even tattered, revealing a deep orange fur that matched that of his face. Roxanne was painfully aware of the lapel pin attached to the collar of his shirt but it'd never been a problem before. She just couldn't help but think...

"Long day at work, huh?" She put two more bottles in the bag. He didn't seem to be in any hurry.

"Something like that." The fox looked up at her for a moment -- their eyes met for the first time in what felt like days and Roxanne could see just how tired the guy was. He could barely stand on his own two feet.

"I get it," she lied, because she truly did not. "Hey, at least it's Friday!"

He laughed a hollow tune. "Don't get weekends off."

"Ah, right. Well..." Roxanne put the last bottle away and reached over the counter to hand him the bag, "... here's to a good night's rest, huh?"

The fox took a limp hold of the bag, reached into his pockets, and began to lazily dig for something. She gave him a quick shake of her head and a wave of her hand.

"Just take it, friend." The word came naturally to her. "You look like you need it."

But the fox either didn't listen or didn't care, and Roxanne repeating her own words didn't seem to get the point across. He just kept digging until, at last, he presented her a wrinkled and stained hundred dollar bill.

"Sorry," he began to apologize. "That's all I have."

"No, no, you're good. Just get me a second to get you some change and-"

"Nah." The fox smiled at her. It was reminiscent of their last interaction a few days ago, where he'd been more... alive. "Keep the change."

"Ah... thanks?"

DING.

Roxanne watched him go, his tail hanging limp between his legs, and after a few minutes turned her attention back to --

He forgot his cigarettes.

***

Now the three of them walked in-step with one another, both Yara and Caine making it painfully obvious that it wasn't comfortable to walk at Marlo's pace. He tried to move a little faster, and truthfully just wanted to be free of their awkwardly tight grasp of his arms, but the two hyenas didn't so much as give him an inch of space.

"Celebration!" They would call out when he began to protest, their voice dumb and high on life without so much as a drop of liquor to kick it into motion. It was something that he had expected out of his captain -- Caine struck him as the more laid back one of the two siblings. As for Yara?

Marlo looked up at her towering form and felt as if he were walking beside a complete stranger. If it wasn't for her scent, those distinct scars, and that familiar grin, then he wouldn't have even known her name. A switch had been flipped; some neurons in her brain were misfiring repeatedly. This jovial, friendly, familiar nature was almost entirely out-of-character.

He was judging again. They'd barely known each other for more than a day.

"Loosen up, tight ass!" Caine blurted out as the trio distanced themselves from Twenty-Four Hour Happy Bathhouse and turned into a busy, open intersection that led into the heart of Sairobi. Marlo didn't know where they were going or what they would do -- he felt like a marionette in their hands. "Yara! Where to?"

They were the center of attention out here in the open. Two massive hyenas dwarfing a reluctant-looking fox, holding him tight by the arms, parading him throughout the city. It must have looked like the world's most obvious shakedown. To Marlo's credit he gave everyone who passed by and stared his most disarming smile. Everything's okay.

One unlucky dog, his coat a shiny blonde, stared for a little too long. He quickly scampered off after being met by the simultaneous snarls of both Yara and Caine -- Marlo felt an awful need to shout out an apology for the poor guy.

"Bars," Yara was quick to reply and in an instant was dragging both Marlo and Caine along to her stride. "We need drinks!"

They didn't let him go until after the three of them had sat down at the closest place they could find, some small hole-in-the-wall with no sign out front that barely had room for the hyenas to squeeze in through. It wasn't built for them, obviously, but they couldn't care less. It was open, it had liquor; more than enough.

By the time they sat down Marlo was swimming in the powerful musk of their pheromones. Caine and Yara had distinctly familiar scents, one strong and possessive and earthy; the other overbearing, tart, bitter, and alluring. They caked his sinuses and lingered for so long that he couldn't quite tell which belonged to who, and for a long time it was all Marlo could really think about.

Three glasses were slammed down on the table by a small feline, her ears notched and pierced all the way up their spines to the very tips with silver and faux gold earrings. She had dark eyes and a darker coat of fur and dressed in nothing but a red revealing tank top and bright blue jeans.

Her small nose twitched as he looked at the three of them, her eyes darting from one hyena to the next before they settled on the fox. She smiled at him a little more than she had the other two, nodded her head in greeting, and bellowed out a strong, "I love your shirt!" over blaring music and lively conversations from strangers that didn't quite seem to mind the newcomers.

For a moment Marlo was drawn out of his stupor, a smile forming as he looked down at himself, then at her, and then at the empty glass she placed in front of him. A quick, "Thanks!" was all that Marlo could get out before Yara put a strong arm around his shoulders, and once again he drowned in her scent, eyes almost glazing over, tail twitching, ears falling flat, and a heat building up in his stomach that he couldn't just ignore.

He fell onto her side in an instant as she drew him in against her body, squeezing his head up against hard muscles pulled taut against her skin. Her fur was rough pinprick needles that poked through his soft coat and jabbed at the tender skin beneath. Marlo desperately wanted to scratch wherever she touched him.

"Isn't he great!" Yara screamed over the music -- she didn't have to try that hard, her natural tone already loud in itself. Her hand squeezed down on his right shoulder as claws dug into his shirt in an almost possessive nature.

Marlo, nervously, laughed and begged with his eyes for rescue. It went over the bartender's head.

"Introduce yourself to her," Caine teased in mock whisper, his words squirming all the way up to his brain and signaling a hard shiver that nearly rocked Marlo's teeth. "She likes ya."

"No, I -- uh..." The woman stared at him somewhat expectantly, a flirtatious little smile crossing her short and narrow muzzle. Marlo forced himself to stare at her eyes, only her eyes, and again stammered with a pitiful, "... Uh, you see, I-"

"His name's Marlo," Yara finished for him with another squeeze and another hard tug of his body against her, another dizzying wave of her scent fresh in his nostrils, "and he likes his drinks strong. Don't you?"

"Yeah," Caine snorted as he raised up two fingers, "double strong!"

If Roxanne were here...

"Well then," cooed the bartender as she shifted and turned to give Marlo a better look down the inside of her shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra -- Marlo barely caught the edge of her areola peeking from beneath her shirt; "You three behave yourselves and I'll treat you good."

... she'd be laughing her ass off.

Yara pinched his shoulder hard. Marlo jumped and stammered, "R-Right, thank you!"

"And so polite too," the bartender teased with a slight lick of her bottom lip. "I like that."

His hyena escorts cackled, their voices drowning out the rest of the bar.

***

Her boss wouldn't mind her closing up shop early. It was barely a formality to even stay open this late in the night. The one and only customer who ever came in to buy something in this sleepy neighborhood past midnight had already come and gone, and he was worrying her.

Roxanne knew better than to try and stick her nose in places where it didn't belong, or so she believed. Everything she was doing now went against her base instincts -- closing up her journal, putting on her thin dark-grey jacket, and trailing a scent that'd become all but familiar to her -- but it was damned if she did and damned if she didn't.

Her conscience wouldn't be able to handle knowing that something bad might happen to him. It was just a feeling, but that was more than enough to get her on her feet.

The fox was easy to find; he hadn't gone far. If it hadn't been his scent then it would have been a soft out-of-key humming that was just loud enough for her to follow. Roxanne stopped just short of coming up behind him and thought to herself -- what was his name?

They'd traded greetings once a few months back. He'd finally come up and said something like he hadn't actually introduced himself to her. She remembered him being a little nervous as he spoke, stumbling over his words as they liberally spilled out of his mouth. She also remembered not paying too much attention at the time.

A lack of interest. He was just a stranger back then.

Idiot.

"Hey!" Roxanne called out to the now-nameless fox that sat on the steps of a small apartment building. She kept her voice low to not bring attention to themselves and, hopefully, not frighten the fox, who was all but absorbed by his own two hands before her voice caught his attention.

With a wave of her hand she stepped out of the shadows and began a slow and careful walk in his direction. It almost resembled the stalking of a predator -- wolf hunting fox. She gave the fox her best smile but the blank look in his tired eyes killed it pretty quick.

The fox squinted and stared at a name tag that peeked from beneath her jacket. "Rox-Anne."

"Roxanne," she corrected. "Hey I know you come by the shop every so often and we chat but I don't think I ever got your name." Smooth. "You are...?"

"Marlo," he replied. "Can I help you?"

"Oh, right, you left these." She dug into the pocket of her jacket and presented to him the carton of cigarettes he'd left behind. "You always get these, right?"

"Wow, yeah." He did seem genuinely surprised. "Thank you, Roxanne. I... I gave you the last of my money?"

The uncertainty in his voice was almost adorable had it not been equal parts alarming. Roxanne nodded and observed him. He looked hollow under the dim lighting -- a husk.

"I'll settle for one of those," she pointed at one of the dozen bottles of beer. Two had already been opened and emptied. As she got closer she caught a whiff of it lingering with his breath; "if you're looking to thank me."

Marlo glanced down at the bag of bottles he'd carried with him. He seemed unsure. Roxanne crossed her arms tight under her breasts -- some bug fluttered against her bare right leg then was quickly swatted away with a strike of her tail.

"Or you're planning on drinking all that by yourself. Your liver can handle that?"

"Fuck you," Marlo snarled, his lips curling up to reveal a perfect set of pearly white teeth. His remorse was then instant as he visibly relaxed and stammered out an, "I-I'm sorry." As lifeless of an apology as she was going to get.

"You're fine," Roxanne said to him. She hadn't budged; his snappy little attitude didn't so much as move her. This wasn't him. She was running off instinct here, of course, but it usually never led her astray. "It was just a suggestion, Marlo, but I can go if you want to be alone. I'm just saying-" She allowed the pause to hold itself high over their heads as she waited for him to work up the courage and meet her violet eyes, "-you look like you could use some company."

Silence. Roxanne couldn't tell if Marlo was really mulling over her suggestion or if he'd simply lost himself somewhere deep in his thoughts. The silence, however, dragged on a little too long for her liking.

"I get it," she said with a sigh as she finally let her arms sag down to the sides of her hips. "Just be careful."

Her back now turned to him, Roxanne began her walk back to the convenience store -- she barely made it two steps before Marlo's desperate voice called out, "Roxanne!"

She instantly turned, her heels grinding against the gravel underfoot, and stared as he offered up a sealed bottle for her to take. His eyes were wide; he tried his best to give her his usual smile but it didn't succeed. Some would have called it a sadly pathetic sight, but she...

"Don't go," Marlo finally admitted as he nudged the bottle a little higher in the air, "please."

***

A wild chorus of drunken revelry chanted in the background as they worshiped her. Her. Their nightlife champion. A sea of bodies surrounded Yara: wolves, jackals, and cats. Her brother. Her fox.

The bartender girl who'd taken a liking to Marlo sat back on a raised table at the center of the group all doe-eyed and nervous as Yara loomed over her prey and held on tight to either of her shoulders. The girl's shirt had been lost to the crowd a long time ago; her small pert breasts teased an audience all too eager to cop a feel and have a taste. The bartender moved her arms and squeezed her breasts a little tighter -- a shot glass full of tequila barely held to her cleavage.

"You hold very still now," Yara muttered as she dipped her head so the two were eye level with one another. "Don't want to spill a drop."

"R-Right," the poor girl replied, instinct telling her to get as far away from this hyena as possible. And yet she remained still, locked in Yara's rough embrace as the hyena's head dipped lower still. "O-Oh!" A large flat tongue fell across her collarbone then began its slow descent down between her breasts, until Yara's chin brushed against the brim of that shot glass.

The bartender could barely contain her excited moan. Legs eagerly wrapped themselves around Yara to pull her in closer.

Yara wrapped her lips around the rim of the glass and held herself there as her hands came down from around the little cat's shoulders so they could slide down her slim and eager body. Control was as intoxicating as the liquor itself. Yara barely made the effort to lift the glass as she nuzzled her snout between the girl's breasts and rounded her hands around her back and to her thighs.

With a dramatic flair that only she could quite put on, Yara craned her head back as far as she could, the shot glass held perfectly between her lips, its contents swirling down into the seemingly endless void. She was a serpent, her hunger insatiable.

Before the girl could even think of hopping back behind the bar, Yara dipped her head low and again found her perch between the girl's breasts, this time laying her tongue flat across one small and exceptionally hard dark nipple.

The bartender's eyes went wide and hands clawed at Yara's shirt as her breast was sucked into the hyena's maw, a soft and wet tongue lashing against her nipple like a whip as teeth nipped her skin and foreign hands sank further between the valley of her thighs. She closed her eyes and allowed that amazon of a hyena to sink into her, the only words that left her mouth being a simple, "God, yes."

Yara's cue to stop the teasing -- if it could even be called that at this point -- and pull off her tit with a satisfyingly loud pop that both embarrassed the bartender and boosted Yara's own confidence. She stared at the girl right in the eyes and grinned as the burn of liquor spread from her throat to the depths of her stomach and warmed every inch of her thrumming body.

"Good girl," she said with a gentle pat of the bartender's cheek. "What's your name?"

"Claire," the bartender replied with a huff as she squirmed in her captor's arms. "And you...?"

Yara turned around, flatly ignoring Claire's question, and pointed a finger right at Marlo, who'd been standing idly by with a bottle of beer in hand, watching the show from a safe distance. Marlo stumbled back but the hand of a stranger pressed hard against his lower back and held him in place.

It was the liquor doing the thinking, but that look on his face made her want to swallow him whole. A nervous and excited anxiousness -- he was finally easing up a little.

"You're next, fox!"

***

Roxanne laughed, loudly, the echoes of it bouncing off the walls and traveling far down the narrow empty streets. A stray foot knocked over an empty bottle of beer.

"You're the drunk one!" Marlo exclaimed as he paced back and forth in front of her. His long and unkempt orange fur swished with every step and turn he took.

"No, no, no," Roxanne denied with a smile as she dismissed his remarks with a wave of her hand. She could barely feel it. As for him? "Hurry up!"

"Fine, fine. Hold on -- wait, no, you can't record-"

"Oh, I'm definitely recording this." Roxanne snickered, her phone held steady in one hand as she zoomed in on the fox and hit the record button. "Hop to it! One foot."

Marlo grumbled something under his breath, more than likely a complaint, but he still did exactly as he was told. He steadied himself with both arms, leaned the weight of his body heavy on his right leg, and slowly began to bend his left leg backwards until the heel of his shoe tapped against his rear.

"S-See?" Marlo stammered. Roxanne could have blown on his face and toppled him over. "Sober as a bee!"

"Nobody says that."

"I say that."

"Well, as impressive as that was," Roxanne stood, one hand still holding the phone steady and the other holding tight to a now-empty bottle of beer, "still not convinced."

"Hey, what are you-"

She hushed him and gently placed the bottle of beer between his triangular ears which twitched as her fingers brushed up against them. The bottle sat flat on top of his head. Roxanne waited a moment to make sure it held steady, then backed off and whistled.

"Wooow. Look at you!"

"Will you stop recording?" Marlo pleaded as he continued to stand on one leg while now balancing the bottle over his head. "Please?"

"Fine. But I'm keeping the video."

"Roxanne!"

"Blackmail!" Roxanne exclaimed joyfully as she put her phone away and sat back at the steps of the apartments. "You can relax now, clown. I'm still cutting you off."

"Come on," Marlo whined. "One more?"

Roxanne rolled her eyes although a smile played on her lips. "God help me with you... fine, but last one!"

"Last one!" Marlo echoed as he hopped over and sat down beside her.

She sidled up to him, the side of her body lightly touching his, and presented Marlo with his prize. The fox, thankfully, didn't try to pull away. In this cold night the heat of their bodies was comforting.

"Last one," Roxanne repeated as she raised her own bottle and clicked it with his.

One more. It wouldn't hurt.

"Cheers!"

***

A flurry of hands grabbed on to Marlo the moment that Yara had called him out, both eliciting a surprised yelp out of Marlo while garnering an annoyed yell of his captain who immediately began to berate the drunken rabble as he struggled to push them away.

"Back off! Hey, hands off! A-Alright, easy there!" It was Caine now who held on to Marlo, one hand placed firmly right between his ears as he used his body as a moving wall that nobody dared to even approach. For once, Marlo was glad for Caine's lack of personal space. "You good, fox?"

"Sure!" Marlo screamed over the music and the shouting as Caine stumbled back into him, gifting Marlo with a faceful of his captain's tail. "Hey, uh -- wait, wait!"

"Up and over!" Caine joyfully exclaimed he effortlessly lifted Marlo like a bagful of groceries. All Marlo could see and feel was tail, large and bushy and rough against his face -- it swatted him repeatedly as he was cradled further under Caine's arm and pressed tighter into his hip. It was fucking embarrassing. "Comfortable?"

"No!" Marlo screamed as he struggled to hold on to anything that would keep him steady as he was hauled around the bar by that lumbering brute, who in response only heaved him closer to his own body with nothing but an abrupt grunt. "Christ! Please, put me down!"

Laughter was the only response he got, a loud and rumbling echo that he felt first as a deep set of vibrations layered one after the other before it turned into this insane cackling that threatened to give him hearing damage.

He wasn't going anywhere, that laughter said to him, and with an awkward swig of his beer Marlo resigned himself to be nothing but another weight for Caine to lug around.

At least his captain was enjoying himself.

It was just a minute or so, but being manhandled like that felt to Marlo like an eternity. The constant thump and shake of his captain's heavy steps rattled his teeth. Only when Caine had put him down, roughly, on top of a table toward the back of the bar was Marlo able to finally close his eyes and breathe.

Hyena musk wafted up through his nostrils as his captain put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in to examine Marlo. That scent didn't help keep the room from spinning behind closed eyelids -- a telltale tilt told him that he should probably lay off the drinking for a while. Just how much had he had?

"Are you okay?" Caine asked him with a surprising amount of care in his voice as the hand that was on his shoulder came around to take a grip of the underside of his chin. Caine tried to be gentle, he really did, but the man didn't seem to know his own strength. Marlo gritted his teeth as he felt his captain's claws dig into flesh a little too tightly for his comfort. "I didn't think they'd jump you like that."

"I'm fine," Marlo began to say. He couldn't help the way it came off -- snappy and annoyed. His tone of voice almost made him believe that the next thing he should have done was swat Caine's hand away, but instead Marlo just held perfectly still, if not leaning into that touch slightly. Every part of him was worried that one false move would dig Caine's sharp claws into his throat. "Really. You don't have to..."

"You seemed mad," Caine cut off after a heavy alcohol-infused huff of air into Marlo's face. The fox finally opened his eyes after he felt like the room wouldn't spin on him some more and found himself face-to-face with his captain, big worried eyes matching a large nose just inches from his own. Caine tilted his head a little as he glanced around the right side of Marlo's head and then amended: "You seem mad."

"I-I'm not," Marlo began, some part of him confused, another part of him glad. "Really. I'm just not used to being carried around like that." Roxanne would beg the differ. "And... I think I'm drunk."

"Nah. Not to my standards, you're not!" His standards. Marlo dreaded the thought -- a smile began to creep up along his muzzle. "Not until you can barely walk. You're just tipsy right now. We need to fix that."

"I'm not sure that's a-"

"Perfect idea?" Marlo nodded. Now his captain's hand fell between his ears; Caine had unknowingly found Marlo's sweet spot. The fox wanted to fucking scream. "Nah, it's a good idea."

"O-Okay, and captain?"

"Hm?" Caine grin was ear-to-ear wide.

"About my tone earlier. I meant no disrespect." His voice dipped low. "I'm sorry."

Caine, for a short minute, simply stared at Marlo. He was pretty easy to read -- bewilderment, dawning realization, and then some slight annoyance that quickly gave way to a friendly and somewhat calming demeanor.

"You think I'm Kitsuragi or something?" Caine shook his head and left Marlo with a parting scratch between his ears. Marlo very nearly purred. "My ego's not that fragile, Butcher. Oh... guess I can't call you that anymore."

Finally.

"Sorry to disappoint."

"It's not me you should be apologizing to." Caine finally backed off -- Marlo found himself missing the warmth and the scent. It was the alcohol. It was the alcohol. His captain whistled, like an explosion in such a small bar, and called Yara over with a loud bellow and an exaggerated swing of his arm.

His matriarch had been sitting at a booth, her arms spread behind herself and one leg crossed over the other, merely observing everything and everyone around her with a somewhat pleased look about her face. When Caine called her over that look turned into predatory delight. Marlo, again, could barely recognize her from the same hyena that had terrified him, easily lied to Samara Imani, and judged him for being nothing like what she'd expected.

In the end, she was nothing like what he expected either. Pangs of guilt began to rear their ugly fangs somewhere inside his chest.

"Apologize to her."

***

Roxanne had met three different people tonight.

Marlo A was an overworked, exhausted, and self-destructive fox with a rather weak sting of aggressiveness and indifference underlying his every word. His eyes had this glazed-over expression which matched a solemn look on his face. This Marlo liked to put up walls but was quick to give in to her requests. This Marlo liked to drink.

Marlo B was fun Marlo. He was loud and expressive and so easy to read. She felt like she could poke and prod and toy with him all she wanted while knowing full well that he'd do the same back to her. This Marlo loved to laugh -- it's the Marlo she'd met a dozen times before whenever he stopped by during her night shift. This Marlo also liked to drink.

Marlo C was the embodiment of a silently brooding teenager in the body of an adult, but even that wasn't quite a fair judgment of character. This was the Marlo that enjoyed sitting in long minutes of silence as he stared up at the stars and thought to himself... Roxanne couldn't even begin to imagine what was going through his mind. His calm and pensive exterior concealed a series of barbed wire walls miles high. Roxanne didn't quite know how to talk to him. This Marlo also liked to smoke.

"You don't mind, right?" Marlo asked only after he'd lit one of the cigarettes and put his lighter away.

She shook her head and gave the fox the space he needed. She had been the one to pull away from him. He needed the room to breathe -- for a second, before he took his first drag of the cigarette, he'd looked like he was about to choke on his own air.

"I used to think these things made me look cool," Marlo mused hunched over stared down at a lit cigarette held limp between his index and middle fingers.

"You miss the memo or something?" Roxanne joked. "Cigarettes stopped being cool in, like, the 90s."

"Ah, shit," Marlo whispered as he brought it up to his lips and took another long drag that almost made him start coughing. "Guess I shouldn't have dropped out of school."

"What, you're not a lawyer or something?" Roxanne replied, her voice light and airy so it was clear that she was making a joke. "Here I thought you had a fancy degree hanging off your wall."

Marlo laughed, his voice dry and somewhat unamused, but he still played along regardless. "Oh yeah, because the constant midnight run for a carton of cigs and a gallon of milk is the embodiment of wealth."

He brought the cigarette up to his lips but didn't inhale, simply letting it sit there nestled against his teeth. It's almost like he was trying to be dramatic on purpose.

Its soft glow against his fur was oddly comforting. Roxanne couldn't keep herself from staring.

"Here I was thinking that you did that just to come see me." Her large black tail swatted his. Marlo glanced at her and finally smiled. So she wasn't far off the mark.

"If that's what you want to believe."

"Look me in the eyes and tell me I'm wrong." Marlo did not. He just kept that sly little smile. "Well, anyway, you seem to be doing pretty good for yourself."

Then came a displeased groan, as if he'd swallowed something that his body refused to retch back up. Roxanne knew that what she'd said hadn't sat well with him but she didn't try to take it back. Marlo C could talk for himself.

And he did, minutes later, after he'd choked on the cigarette's fumes and looked up at the cloudy night sky. His voice was shaky, he didn't try to hide it, and with every word came an agitated twitch of his ears.

"I could be doing a lot better."

"You look like you could have tonight... What'd you plan on doing with those, anyway?" She tapped one of the empty glass bottles with the tip of her shoe, knocking it over in the process. The two of them had gone through most of the bottles by now -- only a handful remained, and neither had the stomach to finish them off. Roxanne wasn't feeling it much, but she could tell that Marlo was one or two bottles away from wasted. "Work shit on you so hard that you wanted to kill your liver?"

"Ah... something like that."

"You... wanna talk about it?"

"Not particularly," came a quick and melancholy reply, not snappy like he'd been earlier on. Marlo quickly doubled back, however. Roxanne found the look in his eyes almost endearing; afraid he'd wronged her with his words. "Maybe. I don't know. It depends."

"Hey, it's fine." She gave him her best smile -- it looked like he needed that. "You tell me in your own time, hm?"

"You'd be that patient?"

"Only if you want to keep talking to me after tonight." Marlo stuck his cigarette to the ground, smashing the burning end into the pavement before grinding it down with the heel of his shoe. "And I mean more than just coming by the shop every few nights to throw me a smile -- your fridge must be full of milk by now."

"Jesus, was I that obvious?" He'd relaxed a little more; his tail still curled around to his lap. Marlo idly stroked it as a small chuckle escaped his throat.

"Just obvious enough."

"You should've said something."

Roxanne took the initiative and once again sidled up to Marlo's body. He didn't try to move away, didn't fight her off. Even sitting down he was smaller than her. Instead, Marlo leaned against her shoulder and hummed, content, comfortable, and safe. "Ever heard of making the first move?"

"Hah! You got me there."

She reached for his hand -- his fur was annoyingly soft. Roxanne wanted to bury herself in it. Marlo stared for a second and then took her hand in his. Hers swallowed his whole. His skin was cold.

"Not how I expected tonight to turn out."

"Better than what you had in mind?" She asked him.

"Much better."

***

Turns out that in the commotion immediately following Yara's announcement someone had indeed gotten a good scratch on him. The rush of adrenaline, Caine's manhandling and ministrations, and the unexpected one-to-one he had with his Captain had distracted Marlo enough to not take notice.

Yara was the one who pointed it out, her senses obviously sharper than those of her brother, and her quick glance over of the fox more thorough than the minutes that Caine had spent on him.

Marlo nursed the open wound near the back of his neck while taking a careful sip of a shot glass of liquor that Yara had brought him. "Drink it," she'd commanded of him as she shoved the glass into his hands. Marlo, reluctant to say no to her, did as he was told.

"You really didn't see that, Caine?" She asked her brother as the two crouched alongside Marlo to get a better look at the wound. "What were you feeling him up for?"

"Just, you know, looking. Making sure he was okay."

"Right. Would've let him bleed to death had I not been here."

"It's not that bad!"

"It's bad."

"I..." Caine stammered. "He seemed fine."

"He that distracting?" Yara jabbed her brother in the ribs. "What, you got the hots for the fox or something?" Caine had nothing to say. The two acted as if Marlo wasn't even there. "This shit killed the mood. I'm up for someplace quieter. Caine?"

"I'll handle the tab," Caine muttered as his hand came up to pat Marlo near the back of the head. "Be right back."

Relatively alone now, with alcohol the only form of courage Marlo could muster, he caught the attention of his matriarch with a quick, "Boss?"

Her eyes were now on him - he had the floor.

"Why did you do what you did?"

"Where?"

"At Imani's office. Lying to her that I-"

"That's business talk," Yara snapped. Her attention shifted away from him. "We can talk about it tomorrow."

"Okay," Marlo replied, somewhat satisfied and unsatisfied with the answer, "tomorrow."

The three were out the door in minutes. Claire almost made them promise to come back -- Yara and Caine simply walked out the door but Marlo, at least compelled to give the girl some kind of answer, turned as he stepped out and yelled out that they'd be back soon.

Whenever soon was.

It was a little easier to walk alongside the two of them now that Marlo was more than a few drinks in. Staring eyes no longer seemed like much of a concern. His focus was placed solely on staying steady on his own two feet and keeping pace with the taller yeens who no longer made an effort of walking at his pace.

"This way," Caine muttered, and the three dipped into a quieter alley. "This place I found a few days ago should do the trick."

Sairobi was small if you knew which way to go, and Caine had clearly learned his way around town. In the span of minutes the three of them were standing outside a small and quiet lounge in a strip of road that had a few dozen others all crammed against one another. It's simple sign out front caught Marlo's eyes -- he almost reached for Yara.

"I... I know another place. Better place. It'll be fun!"

"Huh... What's wrong with this place?"

"It's..." Marlo froze. He couldn't come up with a good lie. Too quiet? That's exactly what they were looking for.

"I like this place," Caine continued after a moment. "Come on, I'll get first round." And before Marlo could protest, Caine had disappeared through the front door.

"Coming?" Yara asked, impatience starting to show.

"Y-Yeah. Be right there!"

"... okay." Then she disappeared into the lounge.

Leaving just Marlo to stand outside Bar Classico as overwhelming memories began to flood his thoughts.

Coincidence and karma could eat his fucking ass.

11:17 PM: [Rox.]

11:20 PM: [Please fucking answer me Roxanne.]

11:21 PM: [Hey! What's up?

On your way home?]

11:22 PM: [How soon can you come out to Sairobi?]

11:22 PM: [What's wrong?]

11:23 PM: [How soon?]

11:23 PM: [Next train out. What's wrong?]

11:24 PM: [Bar Classico is where we'll meet. I'll explain it to you later. Just come here.

Please.]

11:26 PM: [Walking to the station now.]

11:27 PM: [You're the fucking best.]

11:28 PM: [I want you to tell me what's going on tonight. Deal?]

11:28PM: [Deal.]

11:43 PM: [About to board the train.]

"MARLO!" Yara's voice bellowed out from within the lounge. "GET THE FUCK IN HERE!"

11:44 PM: [Expect hyenas.]

***

Roxanne had him on her lap.

She didn't know when it happened, how it happened, or why it happened, but Marlo had somehow found himself straddling her lap while admiring the sheer physicality of her body with a sort of breathlessness to him that matched her own. His hands had come around the thick coat of fur on her neck while her own hands exploited his position and groped his ass with an increasingly desperate roughness.

It wasn't enough that she was freely feeling him up and that he was practically grinding down against her groin like a bitch in heat, but now he had to go and nip on the underside of her jaw like some submissive--

"You're big," Marlo whispered to her as he nuzzled into the fur of her neck and allowed his teeth to find their mark against skin. Not a slight against her weight but deference to her size, as if that in itself were enough to get him off.

Roxanne tilted her head a little to the side, allowing him a moan as she felt teeth against her neck all the while she firmly squeezed his ass just below his fluttering tail. There was enough there for her to grab; thick in all the right spots.

"And you're warm," Marlo continued as he pulled back and returned to worshiping her lower jaw. Each tender nip and lick was met with a resounding growl of approval from Roxanne. "Burning hot."

"What part of me exactly?" She finally asked as she pushed him up against her body with a hard press of her hands against his cheeks, eliciting from the fox a desperately quick yip and approving whimper. "Come on Marlo, I know you can feel it."

To further prove the point, Roxanne pressed her hips up against Marlo's ass and watched, amused, as the fox squirmed and did his best to press down against what they both knew was her straining cock, now barely contained by denim shorts she'd been wearing all night.

"Answer me, you goddamned slut."

It didn't feel wrong to think it. It didn't feel wrong to say it. Dirty talk came naturally to her -- an extension of how she felt, what she wanted, and hopefully what her partner wanted to hear. It excited her, made her cock throb as hard as Marlo's ass did. That little whimper of his as she called him that, the way he paused and really hammered down home on the bulge of her shorts, told her that he'd loved it too.

When's the last time someone called him that?

"Every part of you," Marlo finally replied as he tightened his hold around Roxanne's neck. "Your... your arms. Your neck. Your chest. Your... head?" He smirked at her.

Roxanne answered with a firm swat of his ass that had the fox reeling before he once again settled on her lap. "You're being silly." She couldn't keep some amusement from her voice even though she tried. Marlo brought it out of her. "Hey, pretty sure it doesn't even need to be said at this point, but you're okay with this?"

They were both definitely not sober. They were both absolutely not in their right minds. And...

"With me?"

Now Marlo was the one who swatted her -- having no access to her ass meant that her face would do. It was a light touch; his claws barely left a trace on her fur. Just enough for him to say, don't be an idiot.

Before Roxanne could even say a word in reply she was met with a forceful press of the tip of his muzzle against her own, his hands pressing down on her shoulders so he could ride up along her body just to reach her lips. His tongue lapped at her teeth and, when she accepted it into her own mouth, she found it to be soft and warm and addictingly... heavy? A foreign weight that did not at all feel unwelcome in her mouth.

Her hands dragged up from his ass to his hips, her grip holding him tightly in place as she massaged her tongue against his own and then sucked on the muscle for one hot and sweaty minute.

She could feel the heat of her own body now. Roxanne burned everything that she touched.

"How's that for making a first move?" He was panting, breathless, his eyes wide and a little disoriented. Little dribbles of saliva clung to the fur along his chin. His saliva and hers.

Roxanne growled loudly. She felt his heart hammering against her hands, against her chest. Her maw came around his, teeth digging around his nose and over his mouth, her tongue forcing its way into him and pushing deep as it wrestled down Marlo's tongue and explored every nook and cranny she could find. When Marlo struggled she only held tighter, when he gagged at her intruding tongue some predatory instinct took over and threatened to have her squeeze down with her teeth. And when he moaned she rewarded the fox with with a tightening of her grip and a resounding snarl that echoed deep into the depths of his own body.

And yet it wasn't enough. Even with his body tight against hers, her tongue flat atop of his, and his silent slutty begging edging her on, Roxanne yet didn't have enough. She wanted more. She needed more of him.

"Take them off," Roxanne said to him as she struggled to eke out whatever small ounce of pleasure she could get from grinding Marlo's ass against her engorged member. "Take... take your pants off."

Marlo, still left in a stupor from that aggressive kiss the wolf had laid out on him, barely managed to murmur a, "What?" He could barely process her words but was quick to react as one hand came down from his waist to between his thighs.

"You're hard as a rock -- how do you think I feel right now? Take your pants off and undo mine. Now."

"W-Wait," Marlo stammered, cutting himself off with a long, drawn-out moan escaped his throat. He pressed up against her hand and almost relented to her request. "M-My apartment. Upstairs."

"Out here," Roxanne demanded. She rubbed his erection over his jeans a little harder. Already she could feel the dew of his precum staining his clothes. Hers were in no better shape either.

"Inside," Marlo protested as he pushed back from her a little bit -- not much, he still needed to feel her hand against his cock and had no intention of getting off her own flesh either. "Someone might-"

"Then let them fucking watch. I want you, Marlo. Now."

Marlo began to protest; her response was the start of a dangerous growl that momentarily shushed the smaller fox, though didn't quite deter him. He again pressed into her, found his teeth nipping her lower jaw. Roxanne was starting to love how that felt.

"Come inside," Marlo began, his voice low and sultry, "and I'll let you do anything you want."

"Anything?"

He didn't hesitate. "Anything."

Never had Roxanne's strength held so steady and true as it did now, when she lifted both herself and Marlo in one tight swing of her body that had her on her feet and him gripping tight to the scruff of her neck as the poor fox blabbered some complaint.

It's what he wanted.

"Lead me there," she almost shouted.

Marlo's apartment was small, dark, and somewhat cramped. Perfect for just the one person. Roxanne didn't give herself the time to have a look around and really take in the sights -- she kicked the door shut behind herself and found the first place she could comfortably take Marlo in: his couch.

Roxanne unceremoniously dropped him on his stomach, grabbed his hips, and lifted his rear until he was practically bent over for her. When he glanced back at her all he would see was the look of a predator sizing up her prey. Hunger. Insatiable lust. A wolf ready to pounce on her fox.

"Hey," Marlo whispered. That tone of voice snapped Roxanne from the trance-like stare she had of his swishing tail and slowly wiggling hips. That tempting prize of an ass could wait a second. "Rox?"

Rox... "Yeah?"

"I've... uh..."

Her raised brow and small smile urged him to go on.

"Just be gentle, at least? I've, uh, never done this before."

"Never?"

Marlo laughed, raised his tail, and started undoing the buttons of his pants. "Is that so hard to -- oh!" Roxanne grabbed the hem of his jeans and tugged them down hard once she'd realized that Marlo had undone the zipper, and along with them the underwear beneath. His now exposed position left Marlo whimpering, and yet instinct dictated that he press his face down against the couch and arch his back so Roxanne would get as best a view of his ass as she could.

"You have got," her hands fell on his cheeks, soft and pliable beneath her fingers. Marlo's legs spread a little at the same time as she'd spread his ass, revealing for her his tight and small entrance that clenched for a moment under her intense stare; "the most perfect ass..."

"You don't have to say that," Marlo moaned as he felt her breath hot against his exposed hole.

"I definitely do," Roxanne replied as one hand came around his leg to take a firm yet also gentle hold of his cock that, until now, had sat neglected by both him and her. He moaned and twitched in her grasp as she slowly began to pump him while teasing his sensitive head with the claw of her thumb. "You're nervous."

"I think... hah, fuck... Rox. That feels good."

"I know it does -- are you nervous?"

"A little bit," Marlo admitted.

"That's okay." She stopped stroking him. A desperate whine almost made her start again. "It'll be okay. I'll take care of you."

"R-Right, of course." Marlo sucked in a loud breath of air. "What now?"

"Now you just lay there." She'd started undoing her own pants -- the bulging strain against her shorts was unbearable. Marlo didn't see it, didn't have to see it, but a part of her wanted him to turn around and take in the length of her heavy cock. Roxanne cradled her balls in one hand as the other held tight to her turgid shaft, finally open to the elements and at full mast. "Let me do all the work."

Marlo could probably smell the scent of her sex. It was the way he raised his tail a little higher and spread his legs some more, both presenting himself and inviting her in. For someone so inexperienced he really did know just how to get her going.

"Let me," Roxanne repeated as she got down on her knees, her hands spreading Marlo's ass again, "do all of the work."

His fumbling words were quieted as she let her tongue fall flat under his tail, just over his hole, his breathing as heavy as hers while claws dug into pillows and into flesh to rip at gentle and tender fabric. No more words. Let actions do the talking.

Action -- Marlo moaned her name as she dragged her tongue down from the base of his tail to the fringe of her prize, a hole so tight that Roxanne barely imagined getting her tongue past the entrance. She lapped over his hole as if it were life-essential water, drew circles around the ring with the tip of her tongue, and teased the fox with a gentle pressure against his entrance that would have had him believe she was ready to penetrate him.

His mild complaints for her to "Slow down" were betrayed by his body pushing back against her face, as if to further indulge Roxanne in the object of her desires. As much ass as she could ever want. She closed her eyes and held him tight against her face, suddenly unwilling to let her prize go.

Her breath shortened and her lungs burned. Buried deep into his rear, Roxanne could barely get a gasp in before she continued to slobber and drool over Marlo's asshole. It was those sounds he was making -- pure music to her ears. She could have done this all night, longing to just stay trapped between his legs to lick away at the fox's new found weakness.

Marlo's body trembled under Roxanne's hands, his tail thrashing wildly against her head as he barely managed out a weak, "Fuck, Rox! Just... please!"

She grinned, her ears flat and a devious smile across her muzzle as she pulled back to marvel at her work. Even in the dark she could see the glistening trail of saliva that ran from his sphincter to his balls. His body rose and fell with every panting breath he took. Marlo hardly even managed to hold himself in place.

"You're having fun," Roxanne teased as he spared a glance back at her. He had nothing to show but a burning desire in his eyes that she was all too eager to sate. She was gone before he could get a good look at her.

"Where..." Marlo took a deep breath, steadied himself. Roxanne was nothing but a flash of black fur -- there one second, gone the next. He could still feel the sting of her palms against his ass, those sharp claws pushing into his hips, and a hot wet tongue massaging his puckered ass. "Roxanne...?"

"You stay right there!" She called out to him from somewhere else in his apartment. His bedroom? Marlo closed his eyes and sighed, the ass-upward position he was in growing comfortable by the minute as he loosely tried to follow her footsteps. "Just getting a few things."

"... sure."

She returned, condom in one hand and coconut oil in the other. It'll do. It wasn't like she'd planned for this from the start. She was lucky enough to find these lying around his apartment.

Marlo seemed cognizant of her presence, his body attracted to the warmth of hers. She could hear the beating of his heart from here, heavy and hard despite the minutes she'd given him for a break. She loved that.

"Alright, boy," Roxanne murmured as she ripped the condom from its packaging and carefully began to glide it over her erection. This was it -- anticipation killed her almost as much as it did him. "Tell me you're ready."

"I'm ready," Marlo huffed as he opened his eyes and stared. Some part of him truly wasn't ready for it -- the wolf had animal written all over her face, especially so when she started massaging herself with some of that oil that she'd found. The wet schlick of her hand rolling and gliding over the surface of her cock made him twitch again. He could almost smell the precum that'd been pooling beneath his own leaking tip. "Remember..."

"Gentle," Roxanne promised, "I know. Just..." she stepped up behind Marlo. One hand grabbed on to the base of his tail, using that to tug him a little closer to the edge of the sofa as the other nudged her own dick downward a little, the tip of her engorged head now aimed perfectly at his asshole; "... remember to relax."

"Right, right." Marlo breathed. He tried to relax -- the hold on his tail wasn't helping. The way she twisted and turned him to her desires excited him too much. He couldn't help but whimper and clench as the tip of her cock grazed the fur of his ass. "Fuck..."

"Easy, Marlo," Roxanne whispered, her voice low and soothing. "Not gonna hurt you. I promise, this will feel good."

"Promise?"

"The moment it doesn't, tell me and I'll stop. Okay?"

"O-Okay."

"But," she planted one knee on the sofa and held the weight of her body with the other leg -- that got her low enough to really get close to his puckered hole now. Nowhere for him to go. No place to run or hide. Some savage part of her really wanted to fuck him into the dirt; "I'm telling you now, you're gonna love this."

Action.

Her entrance was a tight, if at first uncomfortable, fit. Roxanne wasn't used to this; wasn't used to him. Tight and virgin asshole. So spoiled she'd been with partners before that she'd almost forgotten what it was like to take someone for their first time. Almost.

He wasn't relaxed. The hold on his tail wasn't helping. Instinct told her not to let go but a drive to find his own comfort had her place her hand somewhere a little more practical: the side of his hip, right by that perfect ass of his. She rubbed gently there, stroking his fur, murmuring sweet words that were genuine to her and, hopefully, meant something to him.

"You're doing good, Marlo."

She tried again, a little more oil this time to make her entrance easier on him, and found to her satisfaction that his hole was finally starting to give in. It wasn't a predatory battering of his entrance but a gentle glide that had her easily press into him until, finally, the bell end of her cock had completely disappeared into his depths.

"Oh... fuck you're tight."

"S-Shut up, Rox..."

"It feels so... fucking... good..." Her hips twitched forward, a little fast and too hard for Marlo who'd stifled a yelp as her cock sank a few inches deeper into his ass. She could feel his sphincter squeezing down on her shaft as the muscles inside rippled in some confused massage at the foreign intruder. "Holy hell almighty..."

Marlo whimpered her name, "Roxanne," as he struggled to both pull away from her while also bringing her deeper into him. "Stop saying shit like that."

"But it's true," Roxanne praised as she started drawing her hips back, slowly. She loved the sight of her own hard length slowly coming into view until only her sensitive head was left barely at the cusp of his entrance. Marlo tightened up even more there, as if consciously or subconsciously he wasn't ready to let her go. "You're perfect."

Again she bucked her hips, reinserting everything that had already been inside him while driving in another inch. He released a content sigh as he was filled out more -- Marlo very nearly had taken her full length. Every muscle burned and begged for her to drive herself home.

"Does it hurt?" She asked him. Marlo's reply was a shake of his head and a deep, satisfied hum. "Good. See? I told you." She brought her hand back up to the base of his tail and, gently, she took hold of it again, used it to bring him closer, and at the same time pressed up against him as the last few inches of her cock were slowly stuffed into his ass. Her balls pressed against his. A deep, burning warmth encircled her shaft. She closed her eyes and throbbed deep inside him, squeezing hard against every little sensitive spot that her cock could reach.

It was bliss a thousand times over. She could feel his toes curling against the soles of his feet as they pressed against her legs. His soft fur tickled the insides of her thighs. Roxanne rocked her hips -- a trial run -- and found his receptive moaning encouragement enough to do so again.

Slow, steady, with a rhythm and pace that two found comfortable and pleasurable. Despite her prior urges she was content with this, something gentle and kind and easy. Not the wet smack of her groin against his ass but a soothing grinding of skin against skin that had her almost always fully submerged in all of him.

In scent. In body. In mind.

"Yes. Like that.... Like that!" His voice grew a little louder, more confident in the pleasure he felt. As if he were finally allowing himself to enjoy the simple complexity of it. New, unexpected, somewhat undeserved, but so worthwhile. That's what it sounded like to Roxanne. She was happy to give it all to him. "Don't stop, Rox."

She didn't want to, she wouldn't have if she'd been in full control of her own body but this... him... too tight. Too good. She sped up a little, feeling his muscles clench harder against her cock as her own balls began to tighten up with every slow stroke into his ass.

"I can't," she breathlessly exclaimed as the pressure in her groin welled up like overflowing water. "Too fucking good... Christ, Marlo, you're so fucking tight!"

"Just... a little more." He stroked himself now, to the same pace as she was driving into his ass, eyes closed as he briefly imagined the roles reversed before fully submerging himself in what was. Him under her. Her over him. At full loss of control over his own actions. Vulnerable and open and trusting.

Roxanne pressed harder into the fox, driving his face further into the couch, the weight of her body nearly fully on top of his now. For a moment she didn't care -- she chased the high of her climax with quickening fervor until, finally...

It struck her hard, more so than it ever had before. A tidal wave. Pressure built up then, suddenly, released in one go. She brought herself out then hilted Marlo in one sweeping motion, the action being the last drop of water that caused the dam to break.

With every deep, hard throb she fell further and further on top of his body, her teeth finding the clump of flesh and fur that they could latch on to. Sweet nectar to her lips. A moth that'd finally found her moon. The only way things would have been better is if they'd done without the rubber but this... this was perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

She held him in her arms, held his throat in her teeth that dug and scratched and begged to draw blood as she emptied her balls as far deep inside him as she could get, wishing that he could actually feel her hot cum filling his insides.

Next time.

That couch became the bed to their panting, sweaty bodies -- her bed, because Marlo had quickly found himself laying on top of her as her cock slowly, teasingly, eased out of is well-fucked hole. That little whimper of his made her reach up and scratch between his ears as his head found itself cradled between her soft breasts.

If he could hear the beating of her heart then he made no mention of it, though neither did she of his. She just held him, cradled him, the weight of his body not a bother but rather a true comfort that she wasn't ready to give up just yet. Marlo could have stayed there, laying on top of her, the rest of the night and she'd been happy.

Silence, as comfortable as it was, soon grew bothersome. Too quiet. Too still. She shifted a little bit, not quite nudging him enough to get Marlo off of her, and continued to scratch between his ears while remarking, "Good, right?"

Marlo took a sharp breath, turned his head a little to glance up at the underside of his chin, and nodded. For a moment that was answer enough for him but, quickly, he realized that Roxanne deserved more than that.

"Better than good," he said to her as a soft moan left him. She figured that he could probably still feel a dull, wonderful ache where she'd once been. "You're amazing."

"I can't take all the credit," she replied, her voice light. "You're a natural."

"A natural at taking dick up his ass?" His reply was obnoxiously quick -- her grin more so.

"Yes. That. Sure." She lightly flicked at one of his ears. "Thanks for trusting me."

"You say that like -- ah..." She heard it before she saw it, his deflating voice. Then his ears fell, his body curled a little into itself. Marlo almost looked like he wanted to jump off of her. "Well, ah... I just remembered something, since we're talking about that."

"Talking about...?"

"Trust."

"Oh. Well, okay?" She didn't let him go -- he wasn't getting away that quickly. But a thousand things crossed her mind. "Marlo, am I going to hate this?"

"Maybe," he replied as he started trying to squirm out of her grasp.

"Can't you just tell me?"

"I could," he finally broke free, but only because she allowed it. Roxanne sat up a little and watched as he scampered off to his bedroom with a bit of an awkward step -- Marlo gave her a worried glance before he disappeared. "Better if I show you."

"Okay..."

And then moments later he was back with something small held tight in his hands. She didn't get a good look at it before Marlo sat at the edge of the sofa with shoulders hunched, eyes down, and his tail wrapped around his lap.

Marlo C was back.

"So I like you," he said rather effortlessly as Roxanne rested a hand on his shoulder. He didn't flight, to her delight, and leaned into her touch. "I guess that much is obvious, right? Not like we'd be here now if -- Hah... I like you, and I have liked you for a while. But if you hadn't come to me tonight then I probably wouldn't have come to you. Ever."

"Oh." Admittedly, Roxanne didn't really know what to say. "That's... something."

"Yeah! Isn't it?"

"So what's the problem, then?"

"You're a good person."

Roxanne laughed, although even that felt a little forced. Some part of her desperately though this was a joke -- she also knew this was real. And so her laughter died when Marlo did not react.

"Like, you're annoyingly, overwhelmingly good." He grabbed her hand, turned it around, and put his over hers. Something fell into the palm of her hand that she wasn't allowed to see until after he'd pulled his hand back. It was a small lapel pin, all polished and flawless. She thought she'd recognized the logo on it but couldn't quite pin it down. Familiarly strange. "Tonight proved it to me more so."

"This is...?"

"The Imani Family crest, based out of Sairobi." Realization dawned on her. Marlo saw it flat on her face. "You're a good woman. I'm not a good man."

The silence was now painfully obvious.

"My induction ceremony was a few nights ago."

She didn't look at him, just studied that pin.

"Truthfully I shouldn't even be telling you this..."

"And how did that go?"

"They gave me the pin and put me to work -- haven't been able to rest till today. The plan, originally, was to come to you, buy the beer, tell you I'd got a promotion, and hope you'd celebrate with me."

She thought back to how she'd found him. "That didn't look like much of a celebration."

"No. Not really. It's..." Marlo shrugged. "It was a long shot. Today wasn't great either. I guess I wasn't happy."

"So leave."

"Hm?"

She nearly tossed the pin away but remembered the sort of importance he'd put on it. Roxanne instead let it slip into his hands. "Leave."

"I can't."

Two words said it all. He was there for life. It wasn't the kind of job somebody simply left, not without repercussions.

"You made tonight incredible," Marlo began to explain, "but I couldn't let you walk out that door without you knowing who I was."

Having said that, Marlo tested the waters and leaned against her. Roxanne embraced him, then brought him back up to where he belonged, cradled against her own body.

The fox sighed, closed his eyes, then muttered again, "You're a good woman."

"And you're a good man," Roxanne replied as she stroked his fur and held him close. Even if you don't see it. "Remember what I said before, 'Mo?"

"Hm?"

"I'll take care of you. I meant it."