F--- You, Billy Joel
The glass of milk stood on the counter, getting warm, as Rex moved packages around in the cupboard. The cookies had been right there at the front, but now they were nowhere in sight. Nor were they behind the crackers or the Rice-a-Roni boxes. Nor had Davy left them on the counter--Rex checked twice. He also looked in the cupboard where the spices were, in the refrigerator, and, finally, in the freezer. Tail lashing, the tiger stalked into the living room.
The cookies were not on the coffee table, nor on the end table. Nor were they on the chest of the plump pine marten sprawled out on the couch, his tongue sticking out of the end of his muzzle as his paws worked the controller and an army of simulated weasels charged a fort onscreen. "Gonna join me?" he said without taking his eyes from the screen.
"Where are the cookies?" Rex put his paws on his hips, decided that was too confrontational, folded his arms over his dress shirt, decided that was too closed-off, and hooked his thumbs into his jeans pockets. That was too casual, but fuck it.
"Uh, cupboard." Davy twisted the controller around, gunning down two virtual foxes. "Yeah! Fuck with me, will you?" he yelled at the screen.
"No, they're not." Davy's absorption in the video game was not all that cute, not now.
The weasel on the screen skittered into a corner. Davy switched views, looking for the red-furred enemy. "Come on, bitch, show that muzzle. Just peek around that corner and I'll fuck you up good. Sorry, hon. I guess I finished 'em."
Rex folded his arms, staring down at the pine marten. Davy gunned down the soldiers in an encampment and leapt into the space they'd occupied, looting the bodies. He ran through the game menu, then started looking for his next objective. Finally, Rex said, "You finished them."
"Yeah. Sorry." Davy ran to the next skirmish, scouting it out before choosing the entry point.
When it became obvious that that was all the marten was going to say, Rex broke into the stream of game noise that was the only sound in the room. "You couldn't get more?"
The screen burst bright red. A moment later, a "CONTINUE" dialog popped up. Davy dropped the controller in disgust. "Fucking foxes," he said, and looked up at Rex. "Hon, I said I was sorry. Look, you know if you leave cookies out I'll eat 'em."
"You don't have to eat all of them," Rex said. "There was half a package left."
"I couldn't stop." Davy stood, adjusted his shorts, and pulled his t-shirt down over his belly, somewhat ineffectively. "You know me. It's just how I am. You want me to go get more?"
"No," Rex growled. "Go ahead and..." He waved a paw at the screen. "I'll be right back."
"Okay." The marten stood on tiptoe to kiss the tiger's cheek, and Rex allowed him to. "I'll keep the war on for you."
Rex looked at the foxes milling about on the screen behind the red haze of death. "Can you change the enemy species? Steve's still a friend of mine."
"It's not because of Steve," Davy said, but his voice was sulky.
Bullshit, Rex wanted to say, but that would lead to the fourth iteration of the argument about using Death Camp to work out your frustration at your ex, and if he were going to get to the store before it closed and have time for cookies and milk and Death Camp before bed, he didn't have time for that. "Just change it," he said. "Lions. We don't know any lions."
He was halfway to the grocery store when the fuel light came on. "Fucking hell," he swore, slamming his fist into the steering wheel. He pulled into the gas station next to the store and filled up the tank, fuming. All the way through buying cookies (and orange juice, and bread, and a couple steaks for the weekend), he worked out what he would say when he got home. All the way back, in the car, he thought about what Davy would say back, and how he would counter it.
Was it fair to use the word 'disappointed'? After all, he'd known Davy for all of two hours before their first kiss, at that Christmas party where there'd been so many people. He'd seen Davy kissing someone else and asked afterwards if anyone could get in on that action, and Davy had planted a nice long one on him, tongue and all.
And he'd been so sweet on their dates, asking what kind of flowers Rex liked, making him a mix CD that Rex really liked. He was a hoot to play video games with, as passionate with a controller as he was in bed. When he'd said he needed a place to stay, Rex had hesitated, but not for long.
And of course, all of his prepared words caught in his throat as he put the groceries away. The sound of gunfire still came from the living room. Davy had called "Hi!" as he came in, and then nothing, and Rex wasn't in a mood to start an argument between rooms. So he put everything away, got his glass of milk from the refrigerator, and took two cookies into the living room.
At least Davy was still killing lions. "Sign in," the marten said, though Rex hadn't even sat down. "Lace and Omar usually sign in around this time. We can hit a mission with them and then get to bed."
Rex dipped his cookie in milk, holding it there long enough for it to absorb some moisture, then bit off the soaked end. "I don't feel like playing tonight," he said.
"It's only Lace and Omar." Davy didn't take his eyes from the screen. "Come on, we can take 'em without half trying. You can just follow me the whole time."
"I don't feel like playing at all."
"Okay. I'm gonna stay up and beat the crap out of Lace and Omar myself, then."
"Fine." Rex let the rest of the cookie hang in the milk. All the words from the car ride pushed and pushed at his head. The fact that Davy was just sprawled on the couch, that he couldn't pick up on the fact that Rex was upset and didn't seem to care, just made it worse.
"Hey," he snapped finally. "Next time you use the car, could you not leave it completely empty?"
"Oh." Davy looked up briefly. "Sorry. I just forgot, y'know?"
"You've forgotten like three times."
"Three times. So what's the big deal?"
"In two months!" The cookie crumbled in Rex's fingers. "Dammit!"
"Hey." Davy twisted the controller around again as his onscreen character jumped over a fence of razor wire. "If it was such a big deal, you should've said something."
"I did. The first two times." Rex threw the remaining cookie in his muzzle and crunched it savagely. He washed it down with the sludge of cookie and milk left in the glass while Davy kept shooting the lions in the grey uniforms.
"Look," Davy said, when the carnage was complete, "Lace and Omar just logged in. I'm gonna do one mission and then I'll come to bed, okay?"
"Sure." Rex took the glass back to the kitchen, shutting out the sound of the video game behind him, trying not to let his frustration get the better of him. He flexed his claws in and out, in and out, controlling his breathing until he was relaxing. Then he walked back to the bedroom and undressed, picking up his book from the bedside table to read.
An hour and a half later, he was woken by the creak and shift of the bed as Davy slid in beside him. The marten's arm fell across his chest, and when Rex opened his eyes, the gleam of Davy's eyes looked back at him. "I'm sorry about the car," Davy said. "I just forget. You know how I am."
"I know," Rex rumbled, trying to reorient himself. "I just...it's frustrating..."
"I really want this to work." Davy kissed Rex's nose. "You're so sweet for putting up with me."
"Yeah," Rex said. "I..."
Davy was already sliding a paw down Rex's stomach, curling between his legs to stroke gently. "I think it's working, right? We're learning how to live with each other. We're learning who we are, not just who we see on dates, right?"
His voice was soft, his paw firm. Rex was getting hard pretty fast. "Uh-huh." It was strange, though. When they'd first moved in together, they'd fucked a lot, mostly with each other, even. Davy had annoyed him those first couple weeks, but Rex had always been able to put it aside when they got in bed. But lately, lately, even when Davy's paw was sliding up and down his cock, even when the marten was on top and buried all the way inside Rex, somehow Rex found his mind going back to the overflowing garbage that sat for a whole day before Rex himself finally took it out. Or the empty gas tank. Or the fact that Rex had done all--ALL--the cooking since Davy moved in.
'You like doing it,' was what Davy said, when Rex asked if he wanted to do some cooking. And when Rex didn't seem happy with that, Davy added, 'and you're really good at it.'
Davy's paw wrapped warmly around Rex's cock. And still the thoughts wouldn't go away. Rex tried to focus on the feeling of the fingers, the little jolts as they slid over his barbs, the tingle with Davy's claws teasing his tip. He tried to lose himself in the rhythm of the up and down, the little surges of pleasure that throbbed and built in his groin, spreading up and down his legs and through his stomach.
"Feels like you're about ready." Davy licked his lips.
Part of Rex wanted to stop things right there, didn't want to let Davy do anything more for him. But that part of him wasn't fast enough, wasn't the part that was in control. It was the part that was sitting on the sidelines, dryly commenting, 'Go ahead and let him do it. He's only doing it because he enjoys it.'
Davy put his mouth around Rex's tip. The tiger closed his eyes.
Warm and wet and up and down, strokes of the tongue and strokes of the lips. Rex gasped, his tail curling and lashing against the bed. He stretched out his feet and inhaled deeply. Davy's paw pressed down on his stomach, so Rex tightened his muscles and pushed back. He opened his eyes and saw the glint of the pine marten's eye as Rex's cock disappeared into the short, dark muzzle.
Davy repositioned himself, straddling Rex's legs and cupping both paws around the base of his cock. His muzzle was surprisingly flexible, diving all the way down on Rex's shaft and then sucking slowly as he came back up. That was how Rex liked it, with the marten's tongue tracing and rubbing the barbs near his tip, but Davy had always been good at cocksucking, ever since they'd met. It wasn't something he'd cultivated to do what Rex liked.
Why was he obsessing over this? Why couldn't he just enjoy a simple blow job? His breath came faster. Davy's paws pressed in gently, adding just enough tightness for his agile tongue to flick past, to make Rex's barbs stand up so his lips rubbed against them, to build that urgency in him, that need to push himself off the bed into that muzzle, the tight curl of his fingers around the pillow behind his head.
And finally, the crest of passion, the arch of hips and the moan through clenched teeth, the feel of his cock pulsing into Davy's waiting mouth, the marten sealing his lips around Rex and sucking, and the tension singing in his muscles, going on and on. The warmth, as the tension faded. The smell of Davy's own musky arousal mingled with Rex's.
He scooted up to Rex's stomach, sliding his rear over Rex's erection and bringing his own prominently up to Rex's nose. "Turnabout?" Davy said.
Rex wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and go to sleep. The doubts about Davy, in abeyance for the brief period of climax, were returning in force. But he reached out and closed his fingers around the hardness in front of him. "Sure," he said, and opened his muzzle, leaning his head forward.
It always seemed to go this way, that there would be an incident and then two days without one, two days when Rex felt that things really were working. He and Davy played video games, they went out to eat, they fucked, and that was pretty much all Davy seemed to want out of life. For a few days, it was enough for Rex, too. By that Friday night, though, the tiger found his tail tip twitching constantly, waiting for the next thing Davy would do wrong. It got to the point where he was mad at himself, telling himself to get the fuck over it and relax already.
Friday night was going to be okay, because there was a party, and they were going together. They would see friends, they would have some drinks, and they would leave together. There were no expectations for Davy to disappoint. Rex was the one who would be driving, and so he had to moderate his drinking, and that meant Davy would, because Davy wouldn't drink more than Rex did. It would be fun, a chance for him to relax and let go, a chance to be Davy's boyfriend in public.
Davy's moving in had been not so much a "let's be boyfriends" but more of a "my lease is expiring and we've been dating steadily for a while," and their friends knew that. Rex knew the marten didn't want to be exclusive yet, and he was fine with that. His last relationship had been open, and the time he'd fooled around with someone else hadn't screwed anything up any more than when his ex had fooled around.
Exclusivity, Rex thought, was a place you found yourself and not a place you set out to find. If you were happy with each other and didn't feel the need to date outside, more power to you. But if, say, you liked tying up your partner, and your boyfriend didn't like being tied up, well, he understood that once in a while you could go tie up someone else. And if he was in the mood, he would come watch.
He didn't have any illusions that Davy was getting to that exclusivity place, but he felt they were closer than they had been when the marten had moved in. So he made sure to have Davy on his arm when they walked into Donny's place, and he stayed by Davy's side as they walked around to their friends. Davy was at his best when being social, and with a rum and Coke in his paw, Rex relaxed and enjoyed himself too. Even when Davy ran off to talk to Lace about their Death Camp missions. Rex kept an eye on the marten while talking local relationship drama with Teddy, a badger he'd known for years. Later, while making plans to see a movie the next day with Cilian and his boyfriend, Davy ran up to the four of them. Before Rex could ask about the movie, the pine marten grabbed him and pulled him into a corner.
"Steve is here," he said, almost splashing his half-full martini glass onto Rex.
Rex looked over the heads of the other partygoers, but didn't see the large black ears of any fox. "Where?"
"In the bathroom, I think. Or one of the bedrooms. I don't know, I smelled him on the couch and then I saw him, and...Rex, I can't deal with this right now. I want to go."
Rex rubbed his temples. "Okay. I'm getting a bit of a headache anyway. It's been a long week. But look, Donny makes killer rum and Cokes. Give me like half an hour." He mimed the relative proportions of the rum and the Coke.
"Can't we get someone else to drive? We could walk over to the coffee shop."
"Hey." Rex put his paws on Davy's shoulders. The way they felt just slightly uneven told him that he definitely needed to wait before driving. "Just settle down. You're with me now, and he's not going to try anything."
"I know he won't try anything," Davy said. "I just don't want him to start in on me."
"Then stay away from him." Rex saw the fox now, coming in from a bedroom to get a drink refill.
"I told him I was moving out," Davy whined. "And that was over a year ago. He keeps going on about it."
"You want me to talk to him?" Rex pulled Davy against him.
The marten nestled against his chest. "You said he doesn't want to talk to you about me."
"If he's bothering you, I'll make him."
Davy patted his chest, and didn't say anything. Rex went on. "He's not a really good friend. I mean, I've only seen him once or twice since you moved in. You're more important than he is."
The marten shook his head. "You're right. I'll just avoid him. But don't let me drink any more, 'kay?"
"Sure." Rex hugged Davy and kissed his ear, feeling protective. It was nice to have Davy depending on him.
He asked Davy about the movie, and the marten said that it was fine, and then waved excitedly at someone else across the room. "I'll see you in a minute, hon," he said, kissing Rex on the nose, ducking out and weaving through the party, calling, "Johnathan, you lovely creature, where have you been?"
Rex stared after Davy, then shook his head. He made his way to one of the couches, where he ran into a skunk he hadn't seen in a while. They caught up, discussed the latest "Doctor Who" series, and by the time the skunk said, "I'm gonna go get another drink, you want something?" Rex realized that his head was pretty clear.
"Nah," he said. "Actually, my boyfriend wants to go, and I have to drive."
"Davy, right?"
Rex nodded, already scanning the party for the marten. "If you see him, tell him I'm looking for him," he asked as the skunk went off to the bar.
The skunk paused, and then turned around. "He's, uh. Right there."
He pointed. Rex frowned, looking past a coyote, a rat, and a fox. "Where?"
Before the skunk could reply, Rex noticed that the fox was kissing someone. He took a step, already knowing what he would see before he was the sinuous brown body pressed against the fox.
They didn't notice him staring, but other people did. The rat reached out tentatively to tap Davy on the shoulder, but Davy took no notice. Nor did the fox, who, Rex saw now, was Steve. Davy had a drink in one paw, half-finished, in a highball glass.
They were not stopping, not coming up for air even though a small circle had cleared around them. The spectacle was embarrassing, humiliating, and why was he even standing here watching it? Rex spun and stalked toward the exit. "Someone make sure he gets home okay," he snarled in the general direction of the skunk.
"Hey, Rex, don't--"
He ignored the skunk's call and stalked out the front door, down the stairs, to his car, where he sat in front of the steering wheel and stared out at the street. Someone would tell Davy, someone would see how mad he'd been, and Davy would come running down. He'd had another drink, he'd confronted Steve, they'd started kissing. It wasn't his fault. That was just the way he was.
His ears burned. Davy's boyfriend. What a laugh. He'd known, hadn't he, somewhere deep inside, that that wasn't real. It wasn't even that Davy was kissing his ex. It was...it was that on top of everything else. Davy would never belong to anyone but Davy. He was the way he was, and he wasn't going to change.
Rex hit the steering wheel with his fist. Any minute now.
The door flew open. He looked up and saw a rabbit he didn't know stumble out, totter two steps, and then throw up in the gutter.
When he got home, he set about very methodically doing what needed to be done, resisting the urge to shred any of Davy's clothes. He set them all in boxes by the door, along with all the other things he could find.
In the middle of it, his cell phone rang with a number marked 'STEVE.' Rex held it in his paw, considering it for several seconds before he picked up the call.
The fox didn't sound drunk. "Rex? Hey. Um. Look, um. Davy's here, and..." There was a sound of claws scratching through fur. "You guys are open, right? That's what he said."
"Yeah." Rex kept his voice as calm as he could. "Thanks for checking."
"Oh, sure, um. I would've checked before, but, you know, things go kinda fast with him. That's how he is. But he doesn't lie, you know."
"No. He doesn't." Rex exhaled. "Are you driving him home?"
"I can't. I mean, I just walked to Donny's place. Can you...?"
"Get someone else there to take him home."
Rex was about to hang up, but Steve's voice came through, more worried. "Uh, Rex? There's just us here."
Rex frowned at his phone. "Isn't Donny there? It's his place."
"Oh, uh. No. We're--oh, jeez, I'm sorry. We're at my place."
The tiger stared at the wall of his apartment, then mashed his thumb against the END CALL button. He dropped the phone onto his couch and went into his bedroom to go to sleep.
He moved the boxes into the hall in the morning, knowing that he had at least until noon. Sure enough, at 1:30, a timid knocking broke through his "Call of Order" game. He paused it and went to stand next to the door.
"Hey," Davy's voice said. "Rexy. I'm really sorry, hon. But you know, Steve gave me a drink, and then I ended up with another one, and you know how I am when I'm drunk. I was just repressing a lot of things, and...I got it out of my system..."
Rex closed his eyes and didn't answer. After a moment, Davy said, "Hon, why...why's all my stuff out in the hall? Please let me in, okay?"
"Sorry." Rex's throat was rough. "If I let you in, I'll...I'll let you stay. And I can't do that. You're...you're not good for me, Davy. I can't live with you any more."
He expected Davy to cry, but the marten came back angry. "Not good for you? Rexy, I'm the best thing that's ever happened to you. Come on, did Steve tell you to do this? Does he want me back? I told him, I'm with you now."
Rex straightened and took a step away from the door. "No, Davy," he said. "Nobody told me to do this. It's just the way I am."