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Cranberry Kiss

Panic. I think the first emotion the flitted through my brain was panic. Mark. That was a boy's name wasn't it? In a desperate attempt I filed through my brain roll-a-dex to find a lady Mark. Boy, boy, boy, boy.... yeah no. Definitely a male name. It barely even registered to me that Hale... Mark... Hailey? Had walked away to grab our drinks sitting at the counter. At least the shock that had registered on my, no doubt, contorted face wasn't one of an offensive nature. I was fairly certain at least.

Well that explains the flat chest. A little bit of the voice too. Wait, is this really my first train of thought after recovery? What about the outrage? This cat kissed me damn-it! Trickery about he-HIS gender is not appreciated. This is what betrayal feels like isn't it?

"Ya gonna stand there all night? Or ya gonna take a seat? There's a swishy drink in it for ya princess."

I mechanically sat down, following the lead of the object of my disorientation. Step one, step three paces to the left. Step two pull out chair. Step three aim buttox at chair and plant firmly. Finally the taste of sweet chocolate and bitter espresso played across my tongue and forced my tensed shut maw open.

"So... Mark."

"Dale"

"Hale?"

"Fire-crotch?"

"Boy."

"Boy."

"Okay..."

"Okay"

"So..."

"So?"

"Stop that. Seriously."

"Is this how ya always treat your dates?" My mind grinded to another halt. Next stop - extreme panic mode on the Daniel express.

"Date? No, no , no. Wait." I stopped to take a quick breath and point at myself as emphatically as possible, "I'm straight. Straight as an arrow. Straight as a ruler. Str-". I was cut off by his effervescent laugh. Just like before, even with my new found knowledge, it inexplicably warmed my chest. Still I huffed with annoyance and, hopefully, a lack of displayed embarrassment waiting for him to calm down.

"Oh god," he managed between gasping breaths, "s-straight as a RULER. Ahahahahaha! M-maybe one of those, oh lord, bendy ones?" He wiped a tear from right underneath his right eye, slightly smearing his dark mascara, but the jovial defiance in his sharp emerald gems had not vanished. Neither had that smirk I had enjoyed so much previously, except this time it was different. This time it was a HE damn it. "Even bendy rulers don't think they're straight princess."

I think my glare was working at half potency because of the stray lock of flaming red hair that broke half of my eye contact with him. I needed a haircut so I could get back to being my fierce self. Manly fierce, not lisp inducing fierce. Grrrrr.

"Why are you so convinced of my gayness?"

"I didn't say ya were gay." That gave me some pause, maybe I was misunderstanding what he was after. Although that kiss was a little hard to be mistaken about. Direct approach it is then.

"What are you saying then?"

"Flexible, little ruler, veeeeery flexible."

"I can't be 'flexible'. I've never been with a guy before." The predatory evolution of the light smirk to maniacal grin told me that was the wrong answer. He put both of his paws on the table and drew himself up and leaned heavily over the table, body pushing precariously against our coffee drinks. His black painted nails gently scratching on the finished wooden table and his black painted lips brought so very close to my left ear. I was frozen, stalk still in fear, perhaps, or maybe a little antici-

"We can fix that."

-pation. His warm breath on my sensitive ear made it flick, but his raspy tongue catching the tip made my breath hitch. I felt that tongue bring my ear firmly into his mouth where he bit down firmly on the tip, making my body shiver and my sandy fur stand on end.

"Easily," came from between his clenched teeth, in a low rumbling purr. Much deeper than I had ever heard from him previously. Definitely a male register. He pulled back and sat down as if nothing had happened at all. I remembered to breathe. "See? Flex-i-ble."

"That's not fair." I had to retaliate. Save some of my failing dignity, save some of my waning objections, save the face of my pure heterosexual visage. "My ears are sensitive." The culprits themselves plastering themselves against my canid skull.

"Oh? Are there any other unfair places princess?" I flinched. Hell yes there were other unfair places. Thinking before I spoke would behoove me in this situation though. I'm certain my poor ears would be abused at this point, and he didn't need to know all my other abusable... places.

"Nowhere. Just my ears. Thats it." I replied shortly and promptly. I just hoped my succinct answers would let him know that this wasn't going anywhere. My arrow like sexuality can and will hold, even if I couldn't even remember why we were here in the first place.

"Thats ok," he took a deep drink of his black drink, merely making it appear as another make-up accessory adorning his body, "we can explore. I'll help you discover all sorts of unfair places." Dry. That was the only sensation I could feel anywhere. The dry charged heat that creates static flew up my spine, the dry excitation that runs through one's mouth at the prospect of thrilling events, and the dried river of thoughts I once had blanked white hot through my mind.

I tried to fix one of those varying types of dry with the sweet bite of my mocha. It didn't really help. He wanted to... explore.

"Paw," he demanded from me. Needless to say I was hesitant. I knew this cat was just going to continue to torture me in that bittersweet sort of way. Just like my mocha, I loved the sweet sensations, but thats not what made me need it. The bitter bite at the end is what really sent tingles up my spine. Too much bite and I couldn't handle the bitterness, too little and it was just sweet and flat. These feelings he was giving me were as dangerous as my drink, was the bite of him being male enough to make me need these sweet feelings? Not just want -something I could resist- but need. What if I couldn't stop?

"It won't hurt," he prodded. He held his paw in the air waiting for me to place mine in his.

"That's not what I'm afraid of," I whispered. I didn't even know if he could hear me but, apparently he did.

"I just want to check something, my last boyfriend didn't even like it." Well if someone who was gay didn't like it then I definitely wouldn't like it right? I needed to prove this wasn't going anywhere. At least to prove it to myself at this point. I was in need of convincing. Slowly, ever so slowly, I placed my light brown paw in his white one. His digits worked softly curling my pinky, ring, and then middle digits under my palm. He brought my index finger towards his mouth.

Ah I see where this is going. It was warm, moist and mildly stimulating. Something nice, but I could definitely do without it. Honestly I couldn't believe he was putting someone's hand in his mouth, I mean he doesn't know where thats-

It was then his teeth began to put gentle pressure on my digit. I liked it. I mocha liked it. I barely even heard my own light whine, although with how dilated my pupils probably were I doubted he even needed that hint. The return of his predatory grin and slight increase in pressure told me he was delighted. His tongue pressed against my padded finger as it was slowly drawn out of his mouth, gently scraping against his teeth. The spike in my arousal was almost painful. I had to voice the only thoughts in my head that were not focused on my other head.

"N-not. Gay." My finger was cold now that it wasn't in his mouth, leaving me in desperate need to place other things in his mouth. This need was dangerous, I had to fight it, but I was struggling to maintain coherent thought.

"I know."

"But-"

"Flexible"

The 'yeah' I replied with was breathy and unintended.

Just like that my arrow like sexuality splintered. I wanted him. In ways no man should ever want another man and my ego couldn't take it. I crumbled under the pressure and cried like a baby.

I don't quite remember when he pulled us over to one of those ripped pleather couches. Nor when he pulled me into his thin arms and let me cry into his black tube top. The lack of mammary tissue had the unfortunate side effect of reminding me of his maleness and started another bout of tears.

It probably looked entirely too humorous to any onlookers. A 6' 1" 190 pound coyote crying in the arms of what had to have been a 5' 6" 140 pound, fairly androgynous, diamond eye. At least he hadn't left me. Not like she had done. At least he waited for me to collect my thoughts. She hadn't been that sympathetic. He waited for my tears to stop flowing, and only trickle. She had just encouraged the increase in flow.

"So..." he started after some indeterminate amount of time. It certainly felt like a very long time. How late was it anyway? I know I walked into the bar at 7:30.

"Wanna tell me what that was about? Never had someone cry on me from pushing a few of those buttons before." Ahhh, that's right. Everclear. Thats why we were here wasn't it? I had forgotten, but only at the surface it seemed.

"Lady problems," I whispered.

"That doesn't tell me a whole heck of a lot." I sat up to look him in the eyes. I couldn't do this laying on his chest, but I could do this. I needed it. A different kind of release than the one he had been previously offering.

"Did you know that some women's magazines have tests in them?" I started in slow measured words. Trying not to reflect on how I used to do so well at taking tests in school.

"Ummmm, no, not really." His smirk was gone, the playful edge in his eyes was gone too. I simultaneously wanted them back and was relieved they were gone. His face just didn't look like him without them, but he seemed to be taking this seriously. Something I appreciated.

"Well they do. They have all sorts of tests in them. From 'do you wear the right color of make-up' to 'how good are you at pleasing your man' they have all kinds of tests."

"And..." he waited for me to continue. My breathing had increased in pace slightly, but I was determined to continue. I wasn't in the danger zone of frustration yet.

"My girlfriend," I hitched, no that wasn't right, "m-my ex. She loves them. Really takes the answers they give to heart." I could tell he was judging her a little bit from the slight shift his eyes gave. I know too many eye-rollers to not see the tell of an intercepted roll. He was being polite... How unlike him. "It's ok, I used to make fun of her for them all the time."

"How long were you two a thing?"

"Umm, 3 years this," I had to take a deep breath, "this July."

"So..."

"Apparently there's an interesting test she took." A light of disbelief and understanding flashed across his eyes.

"No... Tell me the bitch ain't that dumb."

"'How to know you have a good boyfriend' is what I believe the test was. Apparently I failed." He snorted trying unsuccessfully to cover a laugh and I shot him a glare. "It's not funny!" I practically shouted, earning a glance from the bored wolf lady at the counter, "I fucking love her!". All this earned me was an unbridled fit of laughter that could not be apparently contained. He laughed and laughed until my anger had mostly dissipated. I guess it was a silly reason to dump such a serious relationship, but that's what made it hurt all the more.

"So," he started after calming himself down, "I gotta ask. What made ya fail?"

I frowned. Unfortunately this had always been an ever so slight insecurity of mine, as I already knew I wasn't the most... "I scored a 4 in masculinity."

He smirked, and the playfulness was back. It was kind of nice to have his face back to normal, it was nice to have him back to normal. "I guess that's not too bad princess."

"It was out of 50." The nickname was getting to be grating though. Especially coming from someone whom I believed to be a woman a mere couple hours ago.

"Well it could a been worse..."

"She said the 4 were pity points in the first place."

"Well bitch can choke on a dick and die then," he said it so happily I was shocked for a moment. Who says that about someone they've never met? About someone I loved... The past tense made me a bit uncomfortable. Should I be angry with him? I know I'm angry at her, there's no doubting that. I kept silent, just uncertain of how to respond to his smiling demeanor.

"So does that mean you're on the open market?" Was he.... Serious? I had been dumped from a long term relationship less than twelve hours ago. I wasn't exactly in a state to be going head long into another disaster. A male disaster no less.

"Uh... I guess..." Why not? I was feeling dangerous.

"Cool, then I can take advantage of the princess in her emotionally compromised state." I glared at him at half power once again. I really needed a haircut. Right now though I was so tired. It had been a long day and I still needed to grab clothes and check into a motel for the night. My place - our place was occupied by a female I didn't want to particularly interact with at the moment.

"Not tonight," I said softly. A little worried that the trust I had in this relative stranger had been misplaced. Would not being able to get into my pants, something that I was already having trouble wrapping my mind around, be a switch? Would now not being able to get what he wanted be enough for him to abandon me?

"That means you're free tomorrow night then. It's a date."

"What?"

"I'll pick ya up at around 7. Dinner. Movie. It'll be some fun shit." I didn't know what to say. He had been pretty nice, even if a little rough. The kiss was nice. The kiss was very nice. If I was honest too he was still a 9. I didn't even have to justify being attracted to him even though he didn't have much in the way of a chest.

"Okay. It's a date then." I kind of felt like a contract had been sealed. A good paw-shake was in order. Decision made, check. What I wasn't quite prepared for was another kiss, to seal this special kind of contract I was sure. Still quite aggressive, and even though the taste was more powerfully coffee, I could still sense a bit of the cranberries and liquor on his tongue from earlier. This time I was aware the fur kissing me was a he. He still left me breathless.

"So princess, what's the plan tonight?" I didn't know if he was asking because of some ulterior motive or because he was interested. Was he asking if I wanted to sleep with him right now? What was the point of the date then if he just wanted to throw me in the sack tonight? I was too drained to make conjecture.

"Honest?"

"Honest." He did say he wanted honesty.

"I need to go back and pick up my car from the bar, drive home, get a change of clothes, and find a place to sleep for the night." He looked contemplative for a moment and pulled out his phone, grimaced, and put it away.

"Hate to break it to ya but the lot is probably packed tight right now. I doubt ya can get your car out. Right now is peak hours afterall." I rested my forehead against my paws and groaned. Why did I think getting drunk would solve my problems? How did people solve problems by getting drunk? I've heard it's a popular technique.

"What am I gonna do?" The flash of silver bouncing up and down just in front of me brought my head out from beneath my paws for just a moment. I have to say the smiling face did wonders for my psyche.

"Well I can knock at least two of ya problems out. How bad ya need new clothes?" I took a sniff check and sneezed lightly. I wish I could say I wouldn't be rank in a few hours, but that would've been a lie as dirty as the shirt on my back.

"It's necessary." A smirk and another toss of his keys up and caught on their travel down before he pocketed them and stood. Motioning for me to do the same.

"Oooooooh. I get to find out where your castle is then don't I princess?" I finished off my mocha and followed him out of the building back to the death defying monstrosity. At the moment, chocolate had nothing on the taste of cranberries.

The drive was just the thing I really needed to really get my blood pumping. Nothing like hitting a pedestrian, or 'really just tapping' as Hale had put it, on the way home to pump some adrenaline through you. Although he had handled talking to the drunken lion so smoothly it made me concerned about the amount of practice he has had in a situation like that. It's not often you can 'bump' someone and get off with a 'no harm no foul' attitude.

Despite that detour we still made it to my apartment by 12:37. I told Hale - I had been informed to call him that during all skirt wearing moments - just to wait in the truck and I'd be right back. Two shakes of a yote tail. I really believed it too when I had run upstairs and opened the door. The busty blonde golden retriever waiting for me in the living room however, was not something I was expecting. I was so sure she'd be off picking up another guy.

"Where were you?" The audible click at the end of her sentence told me she was mad. She never closed her maw that roughly unless she was angry. Usually with me.

"Out." I couldn't help but want to make her see my masculinity. The man code told me to puff up and let her see what kind of testosterone filled activities I had been up to. "Got a drink."

She snorted, "that shirt has a few too many holes for wine. Where did you really go?" Was I really that predictable? I did love a good port but still.

"I went to a bar." I have no idea why I felt the need to answer to her. We had almost three years of little to no conflict, so was our relationship really only as stable as a magazine quiz? That's the only bump it took to make us fall apart?

Her eyes rolled in such an exaggerated fashion I had the familiar thought of them getting stuck that way. I knew from experience that they wouldn't. "Which bar then?"

"Six Merry Murderesses." I'm not backing down. Not this time. Not like every other time. There was a beat of time before she responded this time. Somethings wrong.

"You mean the gay goth bar?" the quizzical look she gave me told me she was telling me the truth. She was really confused, and I was really embarrassed, so I brushed by her to get into our room. Shuffling through our drawers I started pulling out a change of clothes to take with me. I'd grab all my stuff later. "So you prove you're a man by going to a gay bar huh?"

She was laughing at me. Looking down on me. I wasn't going to rise to her bait though. I was just going to grab a shirt to go with the pants I had gotten and leave. "Find a real man to take care of you there?" she prodded. Shirt, check, I whipped around and gave her as much fire as I could muster. Not that she could see it from the other room.

"So what if I did?" I don't know if she was shocked at my response, or if she was angry I answered at all.

"You can't just fucking bat for the other team because you're not a real man Daniel. It doesn't work like that."

"Who says it can't work like that Samantha? Maybe it does." I was walking out of our bedroom and she faced me, standing in front of the door out of our apartment. She was defying me to leave.

"I kissed a boy and I liked it huh? This isn't a fucking Katy Perry song Dale. Get over yourself." I was tired, and angry. So done with her just trying to hurt me. I didn't even know what I had done wrong in the first place. Maybe there was something, somewhere, but now she was done trying. She was done with this relationship and just wanted to make herself feel better. There was no going back.

"So what if I did huh? What's wrong with kissing a boy and liking it?" I could think of several things wrong with it. Several objections, and hundreds of reasons why I should just stay and forgive her. Try to get her to forgive me. Have her forget whatever it is I seemed to have done wrong. I could forget the crazy cat in the car and stay with this woman. Society would be happier. I wouldn't be though. I was already missing my hit of mocha. That bitter sweetness that came with every kiss he gave me.

"What?" she snorted derisively at me, "he taste like cherry chapstick?"

"No," I forced my way past her and grabbed the front door. Opened it and turned to face her. I had to face her too, the one I used to love. Just to tell her once, only to let her know before giving the door a satisfactory slam - "he tastes like cranberries."