Fear and Desire - Spirit of the Season
#6 of Fear and Desire
Well, I failed last year, but this year I've managed to put together a Christmas short story. In trying to come up with an idea, I decided to use the opportunity to give a little update to the world of my previous "full-length" tale 'Fear and Desire'.
Anyway - if you read F&D: I hope you enjoy this little add-on to it. If you're new to Sam's world: welcome, and I hope you enjoy it also!
Finally - I'd like to wish you all a very Merry Christmas. Enjoy it, whatever you get up to! :3
Fear and Desire:
Spirit of the Season
A soothing warmth washed over Sam as he pulled open the pub's tinsel-covered door, loud chatter and the sound of alcohol-fuelled Christmas cheer promptly filling his sharp, vulpine ears.
"Christ, it's good to be inside," Nick chuckled, unzipping his big winter coat and unwrapping his thick scarf. "I'm not a winter wolf."
"You've said," the red fox answered with a grin, pulling down the hood of his blue top. He began to scan the busy room, searching for the two friends he and Nick had agreed to meet up with.
"Sammy! Nick! 'bout bloody time you two got here!" Sam turned to find a familiar raccoon bounding toward them from across the pub, ringed tail bobbing while his pint of lager sloshed wildly. Resting atop his head sat a bright red, white bobbled Christmas hat. "Started to think you weren't gonna show!"
"Alright, Robbie?" He clasped his friend's paw enthusiastically, pulling the slightly taller raccoon into a friendly shoulder check. "It's only eight!"
"We've been here since half six!" Robbie retorted, his expressive paws almost sending the contents of his glass across the rowdy tavern's carpet.
"Wow, that's pretty late in the day for you guys to start drinkin'," Nick rumbled with a smirk, a lupine grin following at the look of mock disdain he'd won from the ringtail.
"It's Christmas Eve! Time for one last blowout... before New Year's at least... Oh, then, it's my twenty-first a few weeks later; that'll be a different level!" Robbie turned and walked back toward the crowded bar; dozens of regulars and unrecognisable patrons alike jostling for serving position. Their scents merged into a faint musk that wafted up to the pub's seasonally decorated rafters.
The raccoon stopped just short of the serving area, turning to face the pool table to his right. "Oi, Whiskers! Look who I found wandering by!"
"Fuck sake, Robbie," snarled the panther taking his shot, shanking it viciously to the point he barely made contact with the cueball. "You know how to pick your moments, doncha!?"
"Oh, bollocks. Ain't my fault you're useless, Cal."
The black cat loitered at the table, waiting for the husky he'd been playing against to successfully sink the eightball. He fixed up his immaculate brown leather jacket as he did so, trying not to look too annoyed at losing. With the black ball sunk and the game over, he took a moment to congratulate his opponent, slinking off straight after to join the young trio in the middle of the lively pub. "What you chatting about? I school your fuzzy tail whenever we have a game."
"Only in your dreams, mate," Robbie replied with a wide grin. He turned to look between Sam and Nick. "Right, now that we've all decided to get here, I'll go get the drinks in!"
The raccoon slipped off to the bar, swiftly downing the remnants of his pint in the process.
"He's still putting 'em away like a champion, I see," Nick snorted, standing tall above both the diminutive Sam and the six-foot panther, Callum.
"I don't know how he does it," the black cat snickered, watching the short, chubby raccoon sway into the drink-seeking crowd. "If drinking was an Olympic event, he'd take the gold every time." He glanced back to the tall, black wolf. "So, what graces us with your presence, Superstar? Not often the hallowed grounds of the Prince Alexander pub are so honoured lately."
Nick scoffed loudly, padding over to a free booth just inside the pub's red-and-green tinsel-covered front door. "Hey, y'know I'd love to come and have a few with you guys more often, but my new coach'd have something to say about it if I did."
"Football, football, football," Callum groaned, sliding into the seat opposite to the wolf. "That's all we get from you these days!"
Sam followed them, batting his bushy brush aside before settling down beside Nick. "How many of us can say they got scouted by a semi-pro team, Cal?"
"None of us, Sammy. That still don't mean we don't miss him being around here with the rest of the lads a little more."
"Aww, love you too," the wolf cooed mockingly, earning a playful flick of the v's from the panther's paw.
"Y'know, getting kicked off that old amateur team of yours was the best thing that ever happened to you. Not just because you've moved on to better things, but..."
"I didn't get kicked off. It was the off-season, and I left them after all that... stuff happened. Big difference."
"Right, right... Still, I'm glad that Jim guy got sent down for what he did to you two," Callum rumbled, peering out of the window above the booth. A light snow skittered down to the quiet city street, covering asphalt, parked cars and street furnishings alike with a dusting of white. The houses across the street meanwhile all glowed festively, their decorations shining brightly in the dark winter's night. "Hated that psycho Dobie prick from the first time I met him. Three years in prison for an unprovoked, drunken attack? 's gettin' off lightly as far as I'm concerned."
Both Sam and Nick went quiet, watching the brooding panther maintain his gaze out to the snowy street. It'd been six months since the events of that party; the party at which Sam felt compelled to come out to his oldest friend, Nick. The wolf hadn't taken it so well at first, the revelation more than a little shocking for him. To make matters worse, Jim, Nick's then-popular former team-captain had overheard their conversation. If not for his presence, things might have fared a lot better for the two old friends that night.
Instead, a vicious assault upon the little fox by the raging Doberman followed, one that would call upon Nick, still reeling from both Sam's announcement and his captain's explosive reaction, to belatedly come to his old friend's aid.
Before they parted ways later that evening, the pair made a pact: they would never reveal the true reason behind the attack to anyone that didn't already know about Sam's sexuality. That included good friends like Robbie and Callum, ensuring more secrets formed than had been broken that night.
"I still hate myself for what happened at that party," the wolf growled, his words low enough to be audible only to the canids at the table.
"What?"
"For not helping you sooner. For freezing and letting you get beaten to shit... I was a coward."
"We've been over this... I really don't know why Cal's bringing this up now," Sam muttered, looking to Nick. "Didn't we agree that that evening was just... a bad one. Real bad. You saved my tail in the end, and after everything was said and done, I forgave you. We made up, mate." A smile crept onto his muzzle. "Besides, he tried to bite a chunk outta your arm and slash you with a broken bottle when you fought him, remember? I'd say you suffered as well."
"It's not just that, though." Nick remained quiet, his ears folded to the blonde-streaked, black fur atop his head. "I just wish I'd taken your coming out better. I just..."
"I told you, Nick. I forgave you. Let's not live in the past."
Not even the boisterous, celebratory atmosphere filling the pub could penetrate the gloom enveloping the booth. At least, not until Robbie returned with the group's drinks.
"The fuck's wrong with you lot?" the raccoon sneered, placing the four pints of golden lager grouped in his paws upon the wooden table. "I leave you alone for a few minutes and you turn the place into a bloody morgue. Cheer up!"
Robbie's infectious squeaking seemed just the ticket to lift mood. The trio sat in the booth turned to him, their smiles slowly growing.
"That's better!" He passed out the tall glasses, sliding into the seat next to Callum. "Now, let's do this right. It's Christmas! Time to celebrate!"
Time flowed quickly for the gang of old high-school friends, as did copious amounts of alcohol. As drink after drink passed their lips, Nick's unpleasant revisit of the past faded; its memory evaporating into the sound of relentless chatter filling the heaving tavern. Everything began to feel right to Sam; sat safe in the warmth of his favourite pub, laughing and joking with his dearest friends. Still though, something more than just the table stood between himself and the pair across from his seat. A sense of frustration, similar to the one he'd experienced on the night of that party, creepingly developed with each sip of alcohol. The fox looked between Robbie and Callum, their bright, cheery faces a picture of contentment as they shared a joke. Would their happiness remain should Sam open himself up to them? Would they still be his friends should he confide in them about his sexuality, just like he'd done with Nick that evening six months ago? "Guys, I--"
"Oi, Sammy," Robbie slurred, the mask-like patch of black fur unable to hide his bloodshot, brown eyes. "Y'know... I've always wondered what made that Jim fella blow up like he did."
"Not now," Nick grumbled, the wolf far less intoxicated with his slower drinking pace. "What happened to it being 'time to celebrate'?"
"We are celebrating," the raccoon murmured back. "I'm just curious is all. He'd always acted the wideboy prick the few times I saw him... but that, I never saw coming."
"Ain't much of a story to tell," Sam replied, rubbing his sleepy, hazel eyes. "I try not to think too much about it."
"He was a violent headcase. We had a falling out. That's it," Nick stated shortly, sliding down in his seat.
"Damn, Nick!" Callum yelled, volume control a little unstable with the four pints of lager he'd taken in since they'd all sat at the table. "You can tell you don't really drink no more!"
"You've only had a few and you're mullered already!? Disgraceful," Robbie roared, swaying on his seat. "Sammy, go get the next round in!"
Sam stood up, grateful for the break in conversation. His willingness to come out to his two friends had subsided for now at least. On tentative paws, he strode across the tavern. It'd grown far quieter since his arrival a few hours back, with most having headed home for the evening.
Tinsel, baubles and even a row of modest Christmas lights adorned the area behind the bar. Only the blaring of festive cheese from the stereo was missing from the whole theme, something Sam found difficult to be too upset about.
With a slight stumble, he arrived at the quiet bar. A £20 note flapped in his outstretched paw, prompting the landlord of the pub, a big brown bear, standing beside the pumps to turn to him.
"Ye alright, Sammy?" he gruffed in his thick, Scottish accent, walking to where the far smaller fox stood waiting. "Looks like ye lads 'avin fun tonight."
"Hey, Ally," Sam slurred. "Yeah, having a good time, cheers."
"Wha' can ah get fae ye?"
"Same again, please. Four Peerebooms."
"Sorry lad, ye cannae 'ave that."
"Why? I'm fine." He shook his head vigorously, pulling himself up to stand taller in an effort to appear more sober. "Not too drunk, see?"
The bear gestured over to the clock with a smile, its hands giving the time as a quarter past eleven. Below, a chalkboard sign read, 'Xmas Eve Celebration - 11pm until close: Shots or GTFO.'
Sam blinked, processing the board with his drunken mind. "Okay... four shots of... whatever's good."
"Sound." Ally grinned, turning to retrieve a bottle of tequila from the shelving at the back of the bar. "Good tae see ye in the holiday spirit, big man!"
"And a variety of other spirits it seems," Sam snorted, watching the big bear fill four shot glasses. "So, tequila's festive now?"
"Anything's festive if ye put yir mind tae it." Ally finished pouring and took the fox's cash, shooting him a wide grin. "I can wrap some tinsel roond the glasses if ye like?"
He grinned back. "Think I'll cope without. Cheers."
Another hour passed before Ally loudly called for "Last orders a' tha bar", by which point the four friends had all become worse for wear.
Wisely, Nick had stopped after one shot, whereas Sam, Robbie and Callum had continued on with a couple more apiece.
"I think... Robbie's done for the evening," Sam rumbled, words slipping uncertainly from his mouth. He reached out toward the dozing raccoon sprawled out over the table; the quietest the excitable ringtail had been all evening. The fox gripped the white bauble dangling from the end of Robbie's red christmas hat, pulling it until the festive headwear covered his friend's eyes. That in turn won a chorus of drunken laughter from both Nick and Callum.
"It's good we know how to quieten him down, ain't it?" the panther smirked, his words as slurred as Sam's. "Shame it ain't exactly cheap."
"Worth it, though," Nick snickered, rubbing his temples with thumb and index finger. "Oh, my head's proper mashed. Haven't drunk this much in months."
"Lightweight," Callum scoffed. He opened his mouth to continue, interrupted by the sight of a young vixen barmaid sauntering toward their booth. "Cop a load, lads. She must be new."
The busty young barmaid leaned over the table, carefully collecting the numerous empty glasses littering it. She even shook Robbie's last shot glass free; the raccoon still gripping it tight as he snoozed.
All the while, Sam witnessed both Callum and Nick shamelessly ogle the large curves of her chest, their inhibitions clearly dulled by drink. Once she'd turned to walk away, the fox prepared for the inevitable.
"Did you see the pair on her, Sammy?" the panther purred. "Bet that's the sorta vixen you dream about at night."
"Yeah..." Sam's alcoholic haze cleared a little, turning away before reeling off a mechanical, almost automated response. "She's proper fit. Would totally do her."
He turned to Nick, the wolf's yellow eyes shining back at him as he sat slumped against the wall with a face full of sympathy.
"Oh, would you?" Callum beamed, leaning in closer. "Go talk to her."
"Eh?"
"Go on, Sammy. You're young, free and single."
"Not tonight..." Sam looked away, watching the half-dozen other patrons still present prepare to head home. "I ain't feeling all that tonight."
"Come on, don't be a wuss."
"Leave it out, Cal," Nick rumbled, getting a glance from the panther's glazed over, emerald eyes.
"What? I'm just chatting about girls, is all."
"I get that, but Sammy clearly ain't up for all that tonight."
"What are you, his mother?"
"Do one, Cal," the wolf grumbled, a hint of annoyance present beneath his otherwise cheerful tone.
"Alright, alright." Callum frowned, picking up on the undertone in Nick's words. "Fuck sake, Nicky. I'm just tryin' to psyche him up, get him to chat to a girl for once."
"I get you, but--"
"We do this every time we're here, and not just to Sammy, don't you remember? We did it even before you went off to become the next... Dirk van Vossen, football star."
"I wish," Nick snorted. "Surprised you know who that is. Anyway, don't be jealous of my talented paws."
"Yeah..." The panther leered at the vixen barmaid as she disappeared behind the bar. "Bet that's what she'd say to Sammy."
"Stop it, Cal," Sam muttered, rubbing his eyes with exhaustion from both the drinking and his friend's playful taunting.
"What, you too? C'mon, ya know I'm kidding about."
His black-tipped ears began to droop as he peered back to Nick. This time, the wolf's warm smile comforted him. It told him he'd be there for him if need be.
Sam zoned out, thinking back to the night of the party. He'd told Nick about his sexuality because he wanted to make things easier, because he couldn't keep it all bottled up inside any longer. Six months on, that same feeling had started within him all over again; alcohol fuelling it to give the fox a level of bravery he'd have struggled to attain otherwise.
"Guys..." Callum placed his elbow upon the table, head resting within his upturned paw. "I'm not being funny, but... I listen to you, watch you keep looking at each other... I feel like I'm missing something here." The panther's words had become far clearer, his intoxication seemingly fading with the weight of the situation, much like Sam's had done.
The fox lowered his head, taking a moment to gather his courage and peer up at his friend. "That's 'cause you are, mate." Callum didn't answer. He merely sat there, watching Sam take a deep breath. "The reason I ain't looking to chase that barmaid... I wanna tell you... I'm gay."
"That's it! Naw more drinks," Ally called out, his booming voice filling the near-deserted tavern. "Ye dinnae have tae go home, but ye nae staying here,"
Silence descended upon the booth meanwhile, the rumbling of Robbie's drunken snoring the only exception. Even within the familiar surroundings of his favourite pub, sat around a table with his friends, an incredible sensation of claustrophobic discomfort sideswiped Sam. So much so, he came close to slipping out from the booth, darting to the door and rushing all the way home. What followed suggested that going with his gut may have been a good call.
"No way... Fuck that!" Callum roared, prompting the fox to cower down in his seat.
Sam remembered that party and the beating he'd sustained from Jim, fearing that dark day from his past could be about to repeat itself. Tension gripped him, squeezing ever stronger until he'd begun gasping for breath. 'No... please, not again.'
He looked up in horror, only to find the panther grinning over toward the bar. "Ally, stop being boring! I need four more shots here before you chuck us all out!" He looked back to Sam. "It's a celebration after all."
Sam swallowed, the tightness within his chest quickly easing. He felt Nick's big paw pat him on the back, finding a wide lupine grin once he turned to him.
"This is great. It all makes sense now." Callum reached across to place his own paw upon the short fox's shoulder. "That took some bollocks did that, Sammy, but I'm glad you told me."
"You... you're welcome."
"Oi, Robbie. Wake up." He nudged the sleeping raccoon until he stirred and sat upright. "You owe me a tenner."
"What?" Sam muttered with a furrowed brow.
Callum grinned. "I bloody knew it." Even in his drunken state, the panther had the wherewithal to tone down his voice before continuing. "I had a feeling you weren't into girls, mate. You can only point out so many fitties and not get a response before you start wondering."
"Huh?" Robbie reacted belatedly, fluffy red hat still covering his face as he slumped against the panther. "'s going on? Is it my round?"
"Robbie! Sammy's only gone and come out to us."
The raccoon slowly corrected his headwear with a vacant expression. He blinked twice before lifting his arm to offer out a triumphant thumbs-up. "'s cool, mate." With a final blink of his puffy, red eyes, Robbie fell back into his drink-fuelled slumber.
"So," Callum sat back in his seat, beaming away. "Is there a special someone we should know about?"
Sam could sense his cheeks warming. "Uh, no... not at the moment."
"Ah well, just means you're still young, free and single, don't it?"
He chuckled in response, nodding gently. "S'pose it does, yeah."
"Wait a tick," Callum rumbled, frowning at the raccoon snoozing ever louder against his arm before glancing to Nick across the table. "You're taking this pretty well, all sittin' there in silence. Like... you're not even a little shocked?"
"Ah..." The wolf's ears splayed out just a little. "I... already knew."
"Eh? Since when?"
"Six months ago. He told me at Tony's party... right before Jim beat him up."
"Wait, so... that's why he...?"
Sam nodded slowly. "He overheard me telling Nick... That's why he gave me a kicking."
The panther growled, looking to the fox with steely eyes. "Now I'm double glad he's doing time. Evil fucker. If I ever see him again..."
Sam smiled a little, once again turning to the wolf beside him. There was far more to this story, of course, but he didn't feel the need to reveal it. Nick had gone a long way to making up for his initial reaction to his friend's coming out by saving him from Jim's clutches that night. Tonight, by offering his quiet support as the fox came out to Callum and Robbie, he'd gone that little bit further.
"Listen," Callum leaned forward again, gripping Sam's shoulder tighter this time. "We're all mates here, no matter what. I want you to know that this don't change nothing between us."
"He's right," Nick stated, wrapping his big arm around the slight fox. "No matter what."
"That drunken fuzzball included," Callum added, peering down to the snoring raccoon still huddled against him with scoffed laughter.
"Thanks, guys," Sam squeaked, his eyes beginning to water from the sheer sense of relief. "It... means a lot."
A tray of shots slapped down upon the table, pulling those conscious toward its carrier.
"Aww, ah feel like I'm missin' oot," Ally chuckled with a smile. "On the hoose, lads. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Ally." The trio replied in sync, lifting their shots from the tray as the bear padded back to the bar.
"Merry... Merry Christmas," Robbie grunted, stirring from his slumber once more.
"You gonna join us?" Callum chuckled, handing the raccoon his drink.
"Fuck yeah."
They looked to each other with earnest smiles, clinking their shot glasses together.
"To Sammy," Nick stated, pulling the smaller fox closer.
"To all us guys," Sam replied.
"To tequila," Robbie slurred, giggling uncontrollably.
"To the upcoming walk back home to the estate with this soppy mess in tow." Callum snorted, poking at the jovial raccoon's side.
They downed the tequila shots with a collective wince, slamming their empty glasses to the table in unison.
In this moment, the gang of four felt closer to one another than at any other time in their lives. Rather than shatter their friendship, as Sam had so sickeningly feared, his revelation had in fact succeeded in reinforcing it more than he could have ever imagined.
He sat back in the company of his friends and closed his eyes, smiling as the liquor's soothing warmth coursed through him. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt at peace. He felt true contentment. With their unquestioned support, Nick, Callum and Robbie had all given Sam the best Christmas gift he could have ever hoped for.