Impure - Chapter Twenty-Three

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Chapter Twenty-Three

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“Who is this fucker?” Argos paced back and forth in his cabin, his hands balled up into fists, his teeth gnashing. “And who the fuck does he think he is, fucking with us like that?” The coyote whirled towards the sofa, where Rivi and Iosa both sat. He snapped his jaws. “Who the fuck does he think he’s fucking with?”

“Argos,” Iosa said, her voice measured, and calm. “Take a breath.”

Rivi rubbed his knees. “Y-yes, Argos.” He swallowed, his ears splayed. “Perhaps take several of them.”

Argos ignored them both in favor of pacing even faster. He gestured with a hand, growling through his teeth. “I’m taking plenty of fucking breaths!”

All the way back to their cabin, anger had steadily built inside him, filling in the cold, empty spaces left by his fleeing adrenaline. In the moment, he had been completely in control. There was no fear, no fury, no uncertainty. There was only the job. And the moment those lions arrived, Argos’s only job was protecting Rivi. But with the fight over, and the cheetah safe, now his emotions were pouring back in. As they neared the cabin, it had finally settled in on Argos that he had absolutely no idea who that black-maned lion was, or what he wanted.

And that left him deeply unsettled.

Argos was used to dealing in certainties. Go to this location. Complete this job. Capture one target, eliminate the other. Hide an explosive in a train car. Put a bullet in the head of a madman gearing up for war. Escape the country. Certainties. Argos did not always know why he was given a certain task, but he understood the details of it. Go here, do this, take that, deliver those. He knew who his contacts would be, who he would work with, where to claim the package, who his target was, who would try to stop him, and how many of them he’d be facing. Even being sent in against overwhelming odds, or instructed to eliminate an enemy operative of his own high-tier skillset, he generally knew what to expect.

But this was different. That lion already seemed to know far too much about the three of them. More unsettling still, the lion seemed to know exactly who he and Iosa were, and yet had zero qualms about going out of his way just to piss them off. That did not bode well. It made Argos feel as if for the first time in his life, he was the target of someone else’s mission.

Or was he? It was just as likely that whatever the lion wanted, it was Rivi he was after. That would have been his guess, at first. The lion obviously knew exactly who Rivi’s father was. And they’d been watching him long enough to see him take off his gloves to hold Argos’s hand. Though the lions hadn’t mentioned it, Argos could only assume they’d also taken photographic evidence, perhaps to blackmail the cheetah. The coyote spun on his heel, snarling again. If any such evidence existed, then Argos was going to find it, and make them choke on it. Then he’d toss them both off the fucking ship.

Still, Argos couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just about Rivi. He seemed to know far too much about Argos and Iosa’s recent activities to be only looking to enforce the feline’s so-called purity upon the Wandering Scholar. The bigger lion, he could believe, but that black-maned one? Argos was certain he had other, more nefarious motives. Hell, the way he’d just stood by and let Argos kick the shit out of his minion told Argos this wasn’t just about Rivi and his impurity. It was almost as if he was throwing the bigger lion out there as a sacrifice, just to watch how Argos handled him.

The coyote didn’t like it. It was exactly the sort of misdirection he’d throw out at someone like himself, as a twisted sort of reconnaissance. Show up unexpectedly, talk a big game, make them focus on the wrong things, and then get a look at him in a fight, to see how good he really was. Just the same, Argos thought, that was a lot of effort to go to, and a lot of talk about impurity, if all he wanted to was watch Argos fight. Then again, everything he’d said was somehow both casual, and calculated, as though every word out of his mouth was intended to get a specific reaction, or push the three of them into specific lines of thought. It was like the lion’s arrival was planned entirely to set the narrative, just so he could control it from here on out.

Argos already hated this goddamn lion. “This fucker!” He slammed his hand down against the table, rattling several cups. “I can’t stand not knowing who I’m dealing with. Especially when they know who I am.” He waved at the others. “Who we all are!”

Iosa held her hands up. “I don’t like it anymore than you, Argos. But right now-”

“I hate this fucker!” Argos hit the table again, harder this time. One of the cups fell over and rolled off the table, clattering across the floor. “I don’t know if he showed up just to scare poor Spots, or if he wanted to fuck with us! Or both! Which would make him a real fuckin’ dipshit, because I ain’t gonna let no one fuck with me like that! And I damn sure ain’t gonna let him get away with harassing my boyfriend!” Argos splayed his ears, glancing at Rivi. “Unofficial, I know. But either way, I’m gonna find this smarmy, overconfident dipshit, and I’m gonna wring some respect out of his fuckin’ neck!”

“Argos!” Iosa sharpened her voice, if only for a moment. “This isn’t productive. And all this rage isn’t good for you.”

“Y-yes, Argos.” Rivi whimpered, wringing his hands. “Please try to calm down. You’re starting to worry me.”

The coyote’s shoulders slumped. Some of the anger that had steadily built in him fled in a long, frustrated sigh. “Sorry, Spots. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Rivi quickly shook his head. “I’m not worried for me, Argos. I’m worried for you! I understand your anger, but you’re going to hurt your hand, if you keep punching that table.”

“Table’ll break before my hand does,” Argos said, forcing himself to unclench his fist. Only now did he realize how much his hand was aching.

Rivi giggled a little. “I find that rather hard to believe, Argos.”

“Yeah, well…” Argos rubbed his hand with the other. “You didn’t spend your young adult years punching trees and shit.”

The cheetah blinked. “Why would you punch trees?”

“Training.” Argos opened and closed his hand. “While you were training your brain to kick people’s asses with scholarly knowledge, I was trying my hands to be harder and stronger than whatever I hit with ‘em.”

Rivi leaned forward, his tail lashing. “So, you were punching trees?”

“Sure was.” Argos spread his fingers, staring down at his hands. Somewhere beneath the tan fur, scars and old calluses crisscrossed his knuckles. In some areas, the fur was paler, or thinner, where it never quite grew back right. “Part of my daily routine, back then. Probably not quite when you were studying, since I’m a few years older than you, but close enough.”

Rivi slowly turned towards Iosa. “Did he really punch trees?”

Iosa nodded once. “He sure did.” Her ears went back. “We all did, actually. There’s trees all around that place, covered with indentations from generations of trainees.”

The cheetah looked back and forth between them. “But wouldn’t that hurt?”

“Always did.” Argos rubbed the back of his hind. For a moment, he saw himself as a scrawny youth, stripped down to his shorts, tentatively smashing his fist into a tree. “Especially at first. Never broke mine, but some people did. Had to learn how to do it right.” In his mind, he watched himself age, filling out, growing taller, his knuckles blooded and scraped raw, but his strikes more decisive, until he could hit it over and over, all day long. “You get used to it, though. Pain’s transitory, Spots.”

Iosa patted the sofa. “Argos, come sit down. We’ll make room for you.”

The coyote shook his head. “Nah.” He folded his arms, then resumed his pacing. “I gotta figure out who this fucker is. Spots, if I bring some books out here, you gotta pretend you ain’t seen them, alright?”

The cheetah wrung his hands again. “I’ll happy keep your secrets, Argos but…” His ears went back. “May I speak my mind?”

Argos slowly turned back towards the cheetah. “Always, Spots.”

Rivi slowly straightened up. He took a breath, squaring his shoulders. “I think you need to let this go, for now.”

The coyote stared, his jaw hanging slightly open. “Spots, he threatened you. Maybe not literally, but the way he implied-”

“I’ve been threatened before, Argos.” Rivi’s voice was soft, yet it struck Argos like a hammer to the head. “All my life, people have threatened me for being impure. I was bullied, when I was younger, for not being like the other boys. I didn’t know how to hide my differences, yet.” Tears glimmered behind Rivi’s spectacles, and yet somehow, the cheetah’s voice remained strong, and clear. “They hit me, sometimes. When I was older, I was made to take atonements. For staring at the wrong male the wrong way, or whatever pathetic attempts at flirting, I might have tried. And so they hit me, too. Made me take my glasses off, and kneel down, so they could strike me across the muzzle.” A disgusted, humiliated sneer crept into Rivi’s words. “Just for being impure. Until one particular punishment, I couldn’t take it anymore.” Rivi slowly lifted his hand, his claws sliding free. “So I hit him back. With these.”

Argos’s eyes widened. With Rivi’s every word, the coyote’s aching heart cracked a little deeper. “Goddamn, Spots. I knew someone hurt you, but-”

“They brought my father in, after that.” Rivi swallowed hard. “To finish my atonement.” He glanced towards the neat stacks of newspapers arranged around the room. “That’s what I was thinking about the other morning. When I was ripping every mention of him out of the paper.”

Argos clenched his hands into fists again. “That piece of shit. If I ever-”

Rivi held his hand, a bittersweet smile parting his muzzle. “Let me finish, Argos.” He took a shaking breath. “When it was over, he…” Rivi’s gaze wandered around the room, as if suddenly unable to meet the coyote’s eyes. A few tears ran down his face, tracing the dark lines behind his muzzle. “He helped clean me up. And he told me two things.” Rivi lifted his spectacles, wiping his eyes. “One, that somewhere in his heart, he was proud of me for finally fighting back. And two…” He lowered his glasses back onto his muzzle. “That people like me? Impure people, he meant. That we shouldn’t fight back. Because it only ever makes things worse for us. And misguided as he was, I think he meant it as a means to protect me. Because he didn’t want me to keep getting hurt.” Rivi took another shuddering breath. “And then he pulled whatever strings he had to, to keep me out of jail. But he wasn’t minister yet, or even vice minister. I think he was afraid if it happened again, they’d look to make an example of me. Some of the vice police even threatened me, in secret.” The cheetah rubbed his muzzle between his hands. “So after that, I did everything I could to hide my impurity. I tried to fight it, to deny it, to keep my wandering thoughts in my head. To convince myself that I wasn’t impure, that I wasn’t something to be ashamed of.”

“You ain’t nothing to be ashamed of,” Argos said, moving swiftly to the sofa. He bent forward to wrap Rivi in a hug. “You hear me, Spots?”

“I do.” Rivi’s arms slowly circled around him, hugging him back. “And I’m starting to believe it.” Rivi eased away, his red-gold eyes magnified by his spectacles and piercing into Argos. “Thanks to you. But that’s the point I wanted to make, before I…” The feline chuckled a little. “Wandered off into my own past. I have been threatened more times than I can count, Argos.” Rivi gently took Argos’s hands between his, squeezing it. “So who cares if that lion threatened me because I’m Impure? What he’s going to do, tell my father something he already knows about me? Threatening me, intimidating me, these things don’t make him special. They just make him an asshole.”

Argos barked laughter at Rivi’s unexpected profanity. He squeezed the cheetah’s hand in return. “He’s definitely that.”

“But he’s not worth all this anger, and obsession.” Rivi gently patted his hand. “He’s not worth bruising your fist on a table. He’s not worth the rage and worry he’s clearly put in you.”

“And he’s not worth the damn heart attack you’re gonna give yourself,” Iosa said. “Getting yourself all worked up after all the damn coffee and whiskey you’ve been pounding lately.”

The coyote grunted, his tail swishing. “I ain’t gonna have a damn heart attack. I’m fit as a fuckin’ dragon.”

Iosa crossed her arms. “A dragon who’s got the whiskey shakes, maybe.”

Argos glared at her. “I ain’t got the fuckin’ shakes. Spots, is my hand shaking?”

The cheetah shook his head. “No, it isn’t, but I don’t think she meant that literally. Iosa, may I ask you a slightly uncomfortable question?”

“Of course, Rivi.” Iosa leaned back against the sofa, draping her arm across it.

“Are you…” Rivi licked his nose, glancing towards the vixen. “Concerned about Argos’s well-being, lately? Especially his mental state?”

“Extremely.” Iosa gently patted the sofa cushion. “Please sit down, and try to relax, Argos.”

“That makes two of us then.” Rivi smiled, rubbing Argos’s hand. “We’re worried about you right now, Argos.”

Argos glanced back and forth between them, a frustrated growl rising up his throat. “You two have a fuckin’ chat, or something?”

“Yes,” Rivi said, his voice unusually firm. “About ten minutes ago, when we first got back to the room. And you started pacing around and snarling to yourself. Iosa quietly confided some of her worries. And now they’re my worries, too.” He glanced at the vixen and swallowed, then back up at Argos. The cheetah’s voice quavered slightly. “I hope you’re not angry with me for talking to her about that.”

“No, Spots,” Argos said, his shoulders sagging. “I ain’t angry at you at all.” He jerked his thumb at Iosa. “Furious with her, though.”

The vixen just rolled her eyes, chuckling. “What else is new?”

Rivi smiled up at him, releasing his hand. He brushed his fingers over the empty space between himself and the vixen. “Please, Argos. Sit down with us. Just try and relax. Alright?”

“Oh, very well.” Argos turned over, gesturing for Iosa to move aside. “Scoot over. I wanna sit with Spots.”

Iosa snorted as she made room for him. “Oh, I see how it is. I ask you to sit down twice, and you blow me off both times. But the cheetah asks, and you can’t plop your ass down on the sofa fast enough.”

Argos sat down between the two of them. “Does that really surprise you?”

“I suppose not.” Iosa patted his leg. “Deep breaths, Argos.” She glanced around him at the cheetah. “Help me out here, Rivi.”

Rivi watched what Iosa did, then hesitantly set his ungloved hand down upon Argos’s other knee. “Yes, Argos. Deep breaths. Try and calm yourself.”

Argos glanced down at Rivi’s hand, then leaned his head back against the sofa. “I’m sorry I worried you, Spots.” His tail thumped against the furniture, bumping Iosa. “You too, Iosa. Hell, I’m sorry I’m always worrying you lately.”

“It’s alright, Argos.” The vixen took his hand, and gently squeezed it. “As I told Rivi, I know the things we do don’t sit well, with you. And I know you don’t always deal with it, in a healthy way. And given recent…” She glanced at Rivi. “Events and discoveries, shall we say, this black-maned son of a bitch has shown up at the worst possible time. But letting the uncertainty and anger eat away at your mind isn’t going to help.” Iosa held up her free hand. “I know, it’s not that easy to dismiss those spiraling thoughts. But I promise you Argos, we’ll figure out who he is, what he’s after, and then we’ll do whatever we need to do to keep your boyfriend safe.”

Rivi coughed, peering around Argos. “Technically, we’re not actually…b-boy…” Rivi struggled to get the word out, then switched to another. “Courting. We’re not officially courting.”

“Close enough, as far as I’m concerned.” Iosa squeezed Argos’s hand again. Her touch was warm, and comforting. “Either way, we’ll keep you safe, Rivi.”

Rivi gently stroked Argos’s leg, his fingers trailing across the top of Argos’s thigh. “And yourselves, as well. Whoever he was, he certainly did not seem to fear the two of you, despite knowing who you worked for. So, I do hope you’ll take your own safety seriously, as well. Just in case.”

Argos shivered slightly, his fur bristling, as Rivi’s fingertips brushed across the inside of his thigh. He wondered if Rivi realized quite where his hand was drifting, or the effect it might have on him if he kept it up. Either way, he let the cheetah do as he pleased. Argos grit his teeth. “Oh, I’m taking him real seriously. And so will the Guild, if he really wants to fuck with us.”

“I have the utmost faith in your ability to determine his motives, and identity.” Rivi ran his hand back to Argos’s knee. “And to take the appropriate measures, thereof. But do try and let it go for a while, Argos. We have dinner plans, in a little while, and I want you to enjoy yourself.”

“Shit.” Argos sat up. “I forgot about that. When are we supposed to meet Calix again?”

“In a little over an hour,” Iosa said, leaning against Argos’s shoulder. “At the Brass Lantern. Unless you’d rather cancel that. We can always meet him another night.”

Rivi quickly shook his head. “Oh, not at all. Not unless Argos wants to cancel. Otherwise, I should think a nice dinner with my favorite people on the ship would be a lovely way to relax and forget about this afternoon’s unpleasantness.”

Argos grunted, glancing between them. “Nah, I don’t wanna cancel. I ain’t changing my plans on account of some shit-heel trying to put a scare into us. I’d rather spent the evening with my favorite people, too.” He smirked at Iosa. “And your brother, I guess.”

Iosa laughed. “Yes, unfortunately, he’ll also be there. Besides, you two will be busy gazing dreamily into one another’s eyes, and holding hands under the table.”

The coyote snorted. “I ain’t gazed dreamily at nothing in my life, and I ain’t about to start now.”

“Oh, please,” Iosa said. “If you were any more starry eyed when you looked at Rivi, the ship could navigate by you at night.”

Rivi giggled, his tail flicking. “I get that joke! Because mariners often navigate by the stars.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Argos waved them both off. “She’s very clever.”

“Shall I also expect the two of you to be passing notes back and forth.” Iosa mimed writing with a pencil. “Do you like me? Check yes or no.”

Argos ticked his finger in the air. “Check fuckin’ yes on that one.”

Rivi smiled, leaning against Argos’s arm. “I should also like to answer in the affirmative.”

“Yeah, I kinda noticed that when you took your glove off.” Argos turned to regard the cheetah, his tail soon draped across Iosa’s lap. “Which, I hope you understand how fuckin’ proud I am of you for that. I know that must have been terrifying for you.”

He stared down at Rivi’s hand. After a week of seeing him in golden gloves, it remained slightly surreal now to see his beige furred fingers, and their tiny black spots resting openly against his leg. Argos curled his hand across Rivi’s, watching his own tan-furred fingers entwining with the cheetahs, their pads touching. Rivi’s pads were warm, and ever so soft. He’d have told Rivi that the silken feel of his pads alone gave away his scholarly profession and penchant for gloves, but he feared the cheetah would feel insulted, or belittled.

“Hope my pads aren’t too rough, or calloused.” Argos gently squeezed the cheetah’s hand in his.

Rivi shook his head. “Not in the least. They’re perfect. I’m still…” He swallowed. “Adjusting, I think, to holding someone else’s hand. To touching their pads.”

“I can only imagine, Spots.” Argos lifted his free hand to cup Rivi’s cheek. “And I know I just told you this, but I’m so damn proud of you today. For so many things. For handling your business with the Press Officer. For collecting yourself after your first look into the empty Fractures. For finding the goddamn courage to face down your fears and do…” He squeezed his hand again to emphasize their union. “This. And for giving those fuckin’ lion assholes a piece of your damn mind.”

Rivi tilted his head into Argos’s touch, a little smile on his muzzle. “Thank you, Argos. I rather doubt I’d have ever managed any of those things, without your kindness, your support, and your acceptance of me this past week.” His eyes dropped, and his voice hardened, ever so slightly. “I don’t think I want to be ashamed, anymore. Of myself, I mean. Of who I am.”

“Good for you, Spots.” Argos leaned his head against the cheetah’s. “I kinda got that feeling when you held my hand in public. And when you yelled at those two scumbags, and told them to fuck off if they didn’t like you just cause you of who you were.”

“Not my exact words, but…” Rivi giggled a little. “It felt good to yell at them, just the same. Even knowing other people would hear my admission of impurity. It was…” The cheetah shrugged, and made a mewling noise. “Almost like some part of me was finally accepting myself. I know you told me I should demand acceptance from others, but...” Rivi put a hand against his chest. “I think I have to fully offer it to myself, first.”

“You do.” Argos stroked the back of Rivi’s neck, working his fingers through the fine fur. “And I know that’s hard, Spots. And I’m so goddamn proud of you for starting down that road.” He nuzzled the cheetah, then eased back. “I know, I know, broken record.”

Rivi smiled at him. “That’s alright.” He worked his own fingers into the thicker fur around Argos’s neck. “I like hearing that you’re proud of me.”

“Good, cause I’m gonna saying it.” Argos chuckled. “I shoulda been saying it all damn afternoon! Hell, we shoulda been celebrating this…” He squeezed Rivi’s hand again. “All afternoon, too!” A spark of fresh anger flickered to life in his heart. “But that goddamn piece of shit had to show up and ruin things! It’s like he was calculating his arrival just to ruin our happiness and-”

“Argos!” Iosa snatched his tail in her hands, painfully bending it. “You’re supposed to be relaxing now, not getting angry again, remember? Don’t make me put a kink in your tail.”

“Ow!” Argos squirmed in place, his ears back. “Alright, alright. I’ll try to relax. Now quit it!” Despite the pain, he managed a laugh. “I got enough kinks as it is!”

Iosa slowly released his tail, smoothing down its fur. “You’ve certainly developed one for shy cats with enormous spectacles, at least.”

“Spots ain’t a kink,” Argos said, still laughing. “Though, I think he’s got one for my tail. Which is another reason to not to mess with it.”

“Excuse me?” Rivi adjusted his glasses, staring at the coyote. “I have a what for your tail?”

“You heard me.” Argos smirked at him. “Or is that for canine style tails in general?”

Rivi crossed his arms, attempting to look gruff. His ears went back, and he glowered at the coyote. But between his oversized spectacles, and the grin that kept trying to keep across his muzzle, stern was about the last thing he looked. “I just find them fascinating, alright? Yours in particular, because of whom it’s attached too. But it’s not a k-” Rivi cleared his throat with a little growl. “It’s not a particular proclivity, that’s all.”

“I’m a little surprised he actually caught that.” Iosa turned away, her own fluffy, gray tail displayed. Rusty red fur tinged the bottom of it, while a black strip ran down its top. “Mine’s better, anyway.”

“I suspect I’d not have caught your entendre if I hadn’t spent so much time with Argos lately.” Rivi peered at her tail around the coyote. “Yours is quite nice, indeed. Though I must say, I do prefer Argos’s.”

“Hah!” Argos jabbed a finger towards Iosa’s muzzle. “In your face, fox! Coyote tails are the best.”

“If by best you mean, bristliest.” Iosa turned back towards them. “I can’t blame you for letting affection cloud your judgement, however.” She cupped a hand around her muzzle, pretending to pass on a secret. “Just don’t catch fleas from his tail.”

Argos growled. “My tail does not have fleas!”

Iosa made a show of looking at his tail, then back up at him. “Well, it used to. For that matter, so did the rest of you.”

“One time!” Argos shook a finger at her. “One time I had fleas, and you had them too! Hell, you probably gave ‘em to me.”

The cheetah stared at them both, his jaws agape. “Did you really contract parasites?”

“On a mission,” Argos said, his ears back. “Traveling through some real backwater shithole. Think we actually picked ‘em up in that shitty hotel we were stuck in. The important thing is, we both got treated and got rid of them as soon as-”

“Argos’s stuck around in his tail for weeks,” Iosa said, poking at his tail. “They’re probably still hiding in there, to this day.”

“At least I never picked up mange.” Argos grinned at the vixen. “Unlike someone we both know.”

Iosa rolled her eyes. “I never had mange. Don’t listen to him, Rivi. I once developed an unpleasant skin condition, caused by environmental-”

“She had mange. Fur falling out everywhere.” Argos danced his fingers up Iosa’s arm. “She looked like a patchwork quilt!”

Iosa slapped his hand away. “Say, Rivi. How’d you like to learn how to make your soon-to-be boyfriend really relax?”

Argos’s eyes went wide. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Iosa.”

A playful grin overtook the cheetah’s muzzle. “Well, we are attempting to convince him to stop thinking unpleasant thoughts. If there’s something more I could do to assist that, I’d be all for it.”

“Oh, there is!” Iosa pushed Argos up against Rivi. “Normally, I’d suggest you let him drape himself across your lap, first. But I realize that may be a bit too much for you, just yet. Leaning up against you is fine.”

Argos grunted, but offered little resistance. He reclined against the cheetah’s arm, enjoying Rivi’s warmth and steadying presence. “You don’t gotta listen to her, Spots. She’s just trying to embarrass me--mmrrrhhhh…” Argos’s words melted into an indecipherable murmur when Iosa’s fingers stroked his throat. They smoothed down the thick, silken fur there, ruffled it back up, and then smoothed it once more. Argos tilted his head back, allowing her more access, his body going half limp against Rivi. “Yeah, okay… that’s nice.”

“And that’s all there is to it.” She rubbed the coyote’s throat a little more. “Pet his throat like this, and he really just turns into a big, melty pup.”

Rivi giggled, his ears perked. “Aww, that’s adorable. The big, strong secret policeman has a secret weakness.” He glanced at Iosa. “Does he enjoy it even more, if he’s sprawled out?”

Iosa shrugged. “It’ll make him even more relaxed that way, at least.”

“Well, if it’s to help him relax, then we shall spare no expense.” Rivi picked up a small cushion, and placed it across his lap. “This should prove an adequate barrier.” He curled his arm around the coyote’s shoulders. “Argos, would you like to put your head in my lap, now?”

“Is that a trick question?” Argos allowed the cheetah to guide his head down, until it was laying comfortably against the gold-tasseled pillow. He smirked up at Rivi. “Is that cushion meant for our benefit, or mine?”

Rivi splayed his ears, glancing away. “The cushion is in hopes of preventing an embarrassing situation from, uhm…” He swallowed. “Developing.”

Argos only chuckled. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’d had my head in someone’s lap while they were unsheathed.”

Rivi made an embarrassed little squeaking noise, squirming beneath Argos. The way he wriggled around left the coyote wondering if that situation he’d mentioned had already started to develop. But before he could consider teasing the cheetah, Rivi was already petting his throat. The cheetah’s soft pads brushed against the silken fur there, roaming up and down. The sensations left Argos first shivering, then going limp against the other two. Embarrassing as he might find it, having his throat stroked that way really did help him relax.

“Aww, fuck it.” Argos stretched himself out until he was thoroughly draped across both Rivi and Iosa. His head and shoulders were on the cushion, with his head tilted back and leaned against Rivi’s lower belly. His lower body rested across Iosa’s lap, with his feet draped over the arm of the sofa just beyond her. He wriggled in, and then gave an unabashed, happy sigh. “You may now pet the coyote.”

“If you insist,” Rivi said, giggling. He stroked Argos’s throat with one hand, his ears with the other. “How’s this?”

Argos’s eyes drifted half-shut, even as he smiled up at the cheetah. “Fuckin’ magic, Spots. Gonna put me to sleep.”

Iosa gently unbuttoned the bottom three buttons of Argos’s shirt, exposing his pale gray belly fur. “He likes his belly rubbed, too.” She set her hand against Argos’s stomach, gently tracing slow circles through his fur. “You know, like a human’s hound.”

Argos lifted one hand to flash her a rude gesture. “Fuck you too, Iosa.”

“Shush now, little hound. No barking.” She kept rubbing his belly in a circle, ruffling the fur. “Only happiness and relaxation.”

The coyote sighed. Humiliating as he might find her jokes, he had to admit, her touch was heavenly. Almost as much as Rivi’s. He nuzzled at the cheetah’s stomach, his head back nearly as far as it would go. Rivi’s hand roamed all the way from the tip of his chin, down to the collar of his shirt, and back again. Argos watched him through slitted eyes. An innocent sort of wonderment spread across the cheetah’s face, and shone in his red-gold eyes.

It was easy enough for Argos to guess the sorts of things Rivi must be thinking. He imagined the cheetah could scarcely believe he was actually doing this. Snuggling so openly with someone he cared for. Who cared for him. Petting another male, as if Argos was his long and dearly beloved. The coyote wondered if Rivi had ever truly wished for a moment like this to find him, or if he’d felt it easier not to think about it. Not to long for something he was forbidden from ever knowing. Now, by the unpredictable virtues of blind luck, Rivi had stumbled into someone who wanted him to know, and experience all those wonderful things, with whoever the cheetah goddamn wanted.

Rivi looked as if struggled to comprehend that those were his hands ruffling the coyote’s fur. That it was someone else’s warmth and silken-softness against his pads. That he was actually cuddling and petting the person who, for all intents and purposes, was swiftly becoming his boyfriend. And there were no vice police about to burst in. No scowling, derisive priest here to slap him for daring to indulge in the sins of love, and affection. Only two people who felt as he did, who believed in acceptance.

A few beams of pale-gold evening sunlight slipped around the blinds. They cast Rivi in vibrant hues that left his beige fur looking radiant, and gold. His red-gold eyes glowed like embers, uncertain with their own place in the world. Bright reflections danced across the lenses of his spectacles. When he smiled down at Argos, a shy, but delighted smile, Argos could scarcely recall every seeing someone look so…

“Beautiful.” The coyote lifted his arm, gently stroking Rivi’s cheek. “You’re beautiful, Spots. Inside, and out. I hope you know that.”

Rivi swallowed, glancing away, his smile growing even as his voice faltered. “Th-thank you.”

Nearby, Iosa gently wriggled out from beneath Argos. She lifted his legs and slipped around them, then settled them back against the couch. “I should get back to my own cabin and get changed before dinner. I’ll see you two down there soon, alright?”

Argos waved at her. “Yeah, see you in a bit, mangey fox.”

“Later, flea-bitten coyote.” Iosa turned and gave Rivi a little bow. “And lovely cheetah, who should be very proud of himself after today. You two have an hour or so, but it’s alright if you’re late.” She walked to the door, and gave the two of them one final wave before departing.

Rivi peered down at Argos. “Is this an especially formal restaurant, Argos? Do we also need to change our clothes?”

Argos chuckled, shaking his head. “She ain’t worried about that.” Argos brushed his fingers down Rivi’s neck, ruffling the thin fur. “She’s just giving us a little time together, before dinner.”

“Oh?” Rivi tilted his head. “Why would she…” Then his eyes widened. “Ooooh. I’m not sure I’m quite ready for…” He gulped. “For that.”

The coyote laughed a little more. Rivi’s naivety was adorable. “Nah, we ain’t doing that, Spots. At least, not till you’re ready. And even then, we’re gonna start real slow, and I’m just gonna…” A smirk parted his narrow muzzle. “Well, you’ll find out, but suffice it to say, you’re gonna have a real nice night.”

Rivi chirruped lovely, musical giggles. “I’m starting to feel glad I put this pillow between us?”

“Oh yeah?” Argos wriggled against the pillow, shifting it back and forth. “Is that helping?”

Rivi shuddered, a little whimper escaping. “That’s one way to describe it.”

Argos only grinned. He didn’t want to tease the feline too much. Even as they drew closer to one another, he did not want to impinge on Rivi’s personal boundaries. It was clear now the cheetah was working to slowly, deliberately pull down the walls he’d long built around himself, and his desires. Argos had no intention to bring down those walls any faster than Rivi was ready for. Not by so much as a single brick. Only Rivi knew what his own comfort level was, and only Rivi could decide when the time was right to take things further.

There was one thing that Argos could do, however.

The coyote slowly sat back up. He turned towards Rivi, reaching out to gently cradle his head in a hand. “You really are beautiful, Spots.”

Rivi leaned his head into the coyote’s touch, another shy smile on his muzzle. “Am I?” He put his hand over Argos’s. “I thought I was handsome. Which is it?”

“It’s both,” Argos said, gently rubbing his ear. “A beautiful cheetah, a handsome scholar, an adorable feline, a brilliant wordsmith. I could go on, but I think you get the idea.”

Rivi rubbed Argos’s hand. “I think that’s more compliments in a row than anyone’s ever given me.” The inside of his ears flushed scarlet.

“And not near as many as you deserved.” Argos curled his fingers around Rivi’s. “So, we’re in private now.”

Rivi gulped, his eyes slightly widening. “I-I suppose we are.”

“Would this be a proper venue for a respectable gentleman to ask a certain question?” Argos straightened himself up, shoulders back. “Not that I’m anything close to a gentleman, but for you, I’m doing my best.”

Rivi squeezed the coyote’s fingers. “Y-you’re every bit a gentleman, and we’re very happy to have you in our life right now, aren’t we?” He licked his nose, giggling. “We are certainly are, Rivi!” Then he blinked. “And now I’m doing that again. I think it happens more when I’m nervous, sometimes.”

“I think it’s cute.” Argos squeezed Rivi’s hand. “If it helps, I’m nervous too.”

Rivi giggled, shaking his head. “I sincerely doubt that.”

But he was. All at once, Argos’s heart hammered against his sternum. It raced faster now than it did even when he’d been kicking the hell out of that arrogant lion. His stomach lurched, twisting in on itself. Argos’s mouth went dry. He worked his tongue around his muzzle, trying to moisten it. There was nothing in him that expected Rivi to say no. And yet, the idea of asking the cheetah to by his boyfriend was suddenly and immense and terrifying ordeal. Argos felt like an awkward youth, about to ask his first crush to the local dance hall.

“Rivi,” Argos said, forcing himself to speak. “M-may I…”

“He really is nervous, Rivi!” The cheetah’s eyes went wide, and his jaws hung halfway open. “Do we really have that much of an effect on him?”

Somehow, Argos doubted Rivi meant to say any of that aloud. And so, Argos pretended as if he hadn’t heard the cheetah speaking his thoughts to the world. Instead, he focused on steadying himself. He took two slow, deep breaths, until he was ready to try again.

“Rivi.” Argos took the cheetah’s hand between both of his. His voice was soft, subdued, and still more nervous than he’d anticipated. “May I court you?”

Rivi froze. Even his breath caught. Even though they both knew what question was coming, hearing it spoken aloud by the coyote must have nearly fried something in the poor cheetah’s brain. When he finally took another breath, Rivi worked his muzzle in silence, his eyes wide and ears flat. Argos patiently held his hand, even as every passing second was its own agonizing eternity. The longer it took for Rivi to reply, the more doubt crept into Argos’s sleep-deprived, guilt-ridden mind.

Maybe, he thought, Rivi would say no, after all. A heavy weight pressed against his chest at the idea. Anticipating the question was one thing. But hearing it actually posed was something else entirely. Perhaps the weight of it proved a heavier burden than Rivi expected. Maybe it was hitting him now, that what Argos was asking him to do was strictly forbidden amongst his people. The cheetah might have realized, when the moment finally arrived, that it was just too much to ask. It was in his own best self-interest to turn Argos down. And that, Argos knew, would be that.

“Yes!” When Rivi found his voice, it came out not as a trembling whisper, but a happy, declarative cry. “Yes! Yes, Argos, you may!” It sounded as if Rivi had been waiting his entire damn life just to hear someone ask him that very question. The simple, shocked, disbelieving joy that filled the cheetah’s voice was almost as heartbreaking as his pained admissions, earlier. Argos doubted Rivi had ever truly allowed himself to believe that someone would love him. The cheetah sniffled, swallowed, and then tried to calm himself. “You may court me.”

Argos gave a happy sigh, beaming. “Oh, thank fuck. I thought you were gonna say no, for a second.” Only now did the weight ease from his chest. He lifted his hands, and found they were trembling. He cradled Rivi’s head. “Then from now on, Mister Rivimiralous, you are officially my boyfriend.”

Rivi shivered, mewling in excited delight. “S-say that again.”

“You’re my boyfriend, Rivi.” Argos gently stroked Rivi’s ears, then smoothed his fur with thumbs. “And I’m your boyfriend. We can be as discrete, or as public, as you’re comfortable with.”

The cheetah lifted a hand, gently stroking Argos’s arm. “Say it one more time?”

“You’re my boyfrie-”

And then Rivi kissed him.

Argos went wide-eyed as the cheetah’s muzzle pressed to his. That was just about the very last thing he expected the cheetah to do. The act caught him so completely off guard that he almost didn’t kiss Rivi back. Almost. He caressed the back of the cheetah’s head, his hand sliding down Rivi’s neck as their muzzles pressed together. Rivi’s kiss lingered only for moments, his maw ever so slightly parted as if he wasn’t sure how far he dared to go. Argos returned it, kissing him back, just before Rivi eased a few inches away.

“S-sorry,” Rivi said, giggling. “I’ve been…thinking about doing that.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, Spots.” Argos leaned forward to offer Rivi another kiss, but kept it just as brief. He wasn’t sure how comfortable Rivi was with the idea, or the act yet. “I can only imagine how many impulses you’ve resisted, how many moments you’ve been hoping for.” He rubbed Rivi’s neck up and down, ruffling and smoothing his fur. “Besides, if I didn’t want you kissing me, I wouldn’t have asked you out.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Rivi rested his forehead against Argos’s. “I just…never thought someone would call me that, before. And I just…” He took a shaky breath, his voice breaking. A few tears ran the black streaks of his face. “Had to prove to myself it’s real. That you were real. That this is real.”

“It’s real, Spots.” Argos curled his arms around the cheetah, hugging him tight. “It’s real.”

Rivi hugged him back. He shifted his glasses up atop his head, then buried his face against Argos’s chest. His shoulders shook as a quiet sob escaped him. “I-I’m sorry, Argos. I’m crying into your shirt!”

“Don’t worry about it, Spots.” He held the cheetah close, stroking his head. “You alright?”

Rivi managed a nod, murmuring against him. “Just…overwhelmed. Happy! But overwhelmed.”

“I understand.” Argos leaned back against the sofa, gently tugging Rivi with him. “Let it all out, Spots. We got all the time in the world, now.”

Yet, in the back of his mind, Argos already dreaded the truth.

They didn’t.

Someday, this voyage would end, and they would have to say goodbye. Argos already knew it was going to break the both of them.

But for now, at least, they had time. They had each other.

And Argos intended to make the most of every goddamn second he had with Rivi.