VULPES

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“Never did I think you’d make such a mistake!”

Vulpes’ eyes were water logged, tears soaked his eyelashes, fur and cheeks. But through his wavering vision, he had never seen has dad so angry.

He reeled those thoughts in yet again, shutting down the replay of the scene in his mind. But it seemed no more in his control than the destination of the bus that smoothly carried him along. Padded seats, adequate A/C, and a gentle hum of the tires on the road encouraged the mind to lull on the long trip. To everyone else, that must have been a pleasure. It left Vulpes feeling hollow.

The gray fox sat in a deserted section of seating. Less than five filled out the rest of the long bus. None wanted to converse. Vulpes hunched in his little corner, eyes glazed over, feeling dull pain that strangled his guts while he tried to ignore it. His mind kept sinking into wander, random images cycled in and out in a loose train of thought.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Thanks.”

It was Markus Long. A tall, thin wolf that liked to dye his fur purple. He went by “Shado” most of the time instead of his real name. Perhaps a statement of rebellion.

“Your body is fucking chiseled, man. Like that David statue or something”

“Ha, ha! Thanks, Shado.”

Shado’s big hands eagerly unzipped Vulpes’ jeans and tugged at the seams. Vulpes wiggled to assist the wolf sliding the pants off his hips. He blushed fiercely as Shado’s hands explored the muscles of his body.

“You work out?”

“Only a lot of martial arts.”

Shado grunted in response, more drooling at the sight than thinking now. His hands ended their curious exploration and began to focus the wolf’s true desires.

“You should have had better judgement!” His dad’s eyes were filled with rage under some sort of indescribable control. He was one part feral beast and one part civilized furkind. Barely.

Vulpes shook his head violently, gritting his teeth against the pain that shot through his gut anew. The thought-train halted with the rattling, and he was again here and now. The hum of the bus slowly filtered through his triangular ears and the ever-long trail of country side rolled by with leisurely change. He hunched another inch or so, resting his elbows on his knees. A minute or two later, his eyes were again glazed over.

“Oh, you’re a cute one!” Shado’s fingers pinched a roll of jeans and skin on Vulpes’ rear.

Vulpes spun away from his locker and batted the hand away. “What the hell?”

“I bet you’re straight.” The wolf had frowned. “All the good ones are.”

“Hey!”

“Except you, Taka.” The roll of Shado’s eyes made the comment seem less than ingenuous. The wolf was trailed by a few other furs. Taka, the one who cried “hey,” was a lemur dressed tightly and often made fun of for his flamboyance.

“Well, I am straight.” Vulpes replied, a foot falling back into a more mobile stance. His gaze occasionally flickered to the clique, centered around the purple wolf, as they regarded the vulpine Shado had singled out.

“Well, straighties can come too.” Shado reached out with a slip paper. “We want it packed.”

Vulpes cautiously took the slip read the invitation.

“Be there, cutie.” Shado winked and lead his clique away.

Parents gone. Beer here. Be there.

“Catchy.” Vulpes mouthed to himself as he examined the address and slipped the sheet into his pocket. Unlikely he’d go. Unlikely, but he did anyways.

He sighed. A deep breath, an audible exhale as the pain inside took a turn off of stress and went nose deep into regret. Vulpes straightened his back and rested his long chin in one hand. The scenery was almost painfully bright in the sun. Only a year ago had Shado given him that invitation, but the difference in knowledge was vast. It was that lack of knowledge that led him to that party, and to that purple wolf.

Shado’s grin was unmistakable as Vulpes approached, slipping his way around the pulsating crowd, bouncing to the music. Ears folded flat to his skull shut out the noise. He had to lean over and yell. “Can we talk somewhere?”

The wolf just nodded and took him upstairs to a room he unlocked with a key and locked behind him. The sound was muffled here. Loud still, but tolerable. Vulpes finally relaxed his ears and breathed a sigh of relief.

Shado turned on the light and bounced onto a small, twinsized bed against the wall. This must have been his room. Patting the mattress next to him, he was the first to speak. “What’s the deal?”

Taking the chance to trust, Vulpes took the offered seat. “I just wanted to ask you a few questions. About your . . .” The word did not come easy. “ . . . liking guys.”

The gleam in Shado’s eyes told Vulpes how transparent he was. “Ask away.”

“How’d it come around? When did you know?”

“Ever since puberty. I just never felt excited about girls. Then one day, I saw a half naked guy and dayum.”

“Ahh, I see.” Vulpes nodded, losing eye contact as he internalized this information.

“Experimenting?”

“Oh, no. No, not at all. Don’t want to get deep.”

“Oh, shame.” Shado looked disappointed, but it washed through him in a flash and he let one of his long arms ensnare Vulpes’ waist.

Vulpes looked down at it, an uncomfortable feeling came over him. But he did not turn it away. Vulpes felt powerless to pull away, shrinking down internally like a mouse. No, not powerless. He had always wanted to share this burden of his, and Shado so far was his best chance. His best resource.

“There is only one way to know for sure.” Shado closed the distance between them so they touched thigh to thigh.

But Vulpes turned away his head and did not let the imminent kiss progress. “I-I think I already know, now. I think I like women still. And men.” He only whispered the last two words.

“But you have doubts. No one really likes both. I can help you find out who you really love.” Then a hand reached for the vulpine’s shirt.

Damnit, damnit, damnit, don’t do it. But he had done it. Shado had stripped off his clothes and set him on all fours. With a little lube, Shado had humped Vulpes like a dog, pounding away. At the time, there was some pleasure. But as a memory, there was none. Shado left the job half finished to drink and party. But it was the following schoolday that cemented the memory.

“Hey, Shado, hey!”

The wolf turned around, he didn’t smile. “Hey, Vulpes.”

“Hey, just wanted to get your phone number before next class. There is more I want to talk about.”

“Maybe later.” Shado turned to keep walking.

“Wait, let me give you mine, and you can just call me.” Vulpes took out a pad and pencil, scribbling in the first few digits.

“Later, Vulpes.” Shado stopped the writing, pressing his hand against the paper, then turned to leave. “See ya.” He mumbled as he all but jogged away.

Even now he couldn’t think of a time his stomach sank lower. It was physical, like he was just struck in the belly, vaguely wanting to throw up, or not to breath, to double over and clutch at the unusual pain that stopped everything. He stood there in shock, turmoil winding around inside him, sinking and sinking deeper into tissue until, like a geyser, all he felt surface was anger. A rage-like, tortured anger. A wronged, revenging pressure that blew blood up, pounding through his skull. He must have slammed his locker a few times that day. He couldn’t remember.

The worst was yet to come.