FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Good Enough--Side Story--First Date

Warren Makarov was, for the first time in a long time, completely confused and at a loss for words. Somewhere in his mind, he found himself questioning exactly what he was feeling right now, whether or not the feeling he working through him was love or just some childish crush. He was, after all, just a teenager. What did he know about love?

He sat beside a shy otter who seemed to be enamored by the snow, falling from the sky. Without a doubt, the otter loved the powdery, frozen flakes, the fragile-looking world it created and the beautiful sparkles from when they caught the light in just the right way. But even more than that, he was enjoying the lights, strung across the trees or windows or roofs, the decorations that left a warm, fuzzy feeling inside.

"So," the otter, James Noels, was saying, "what're your Christmas plans?"

"Don't have none," Warren answered simply.

"Why not?" James inquired. "You know, the school's got the holiday dance on Saturday."

"Not my scene."

"Well, I know somebody's bound to be throwing a party," James suggested. "Why not do that?"

"No, not really my thing. Not really into parties," Warren said dismissively. "Besides, I'll probably be pulling hours out of my tail at the store."

"Well, what about Christmas day? Or Christmas eve?" James inquired insistently.

"What do you have planned?" Warren interjected, double checking the times on the small paper he had printed out. The bus was running late.

James shrugged. "Well, I don't know yet. I know my mom's probably going to make her annual Christmas cake and my dad already had the Christmas tree sent."

"Sent? What does that mean?"

"Well, they said they might not make it home for the actual day," James explained nervously. "They're always busy but I understand. How much longer until the bus--?"

"Well, your sister's going to be home, right?" Warren interrupted.

"Well... yeah..."

"You hesitated," Warren noted. "You're not going to be alone on Christmas day, are you?"

"It doesn't really--Hey, there's the bus!" James said, pointing. Indeed, the city bus was in sight.

"James, do you want to--?"

"Come on! Let's go! I can't wait to see the lights downtown! They're probably going to be even better than last year!"

"We're not done talking about--"

"I promise we'll talk later," James insisted. "But right now, I'm too excited to see all the lights!"

---

When they arrived downtown, the crowd was already stiflingly large, the sun setting behind the skyline almost agonizingly slowly. A series of kiosks and food trucks surrounded the decorated tree, situated in the middle of the park and already decorated with lights and ornaments. Warren watched James eagerly move from one kiosk to another, his eyes alight with an exuberance that Warren enjoyed seeing and had only seen a few times before.

That was a look of pure happiness...

Then Warren felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and Warren jerked upright. It was a simple text from his father: I'll be out late. Food in fridge. Don't call me.

Of course, Warren thought irritably, you've got another booty call.

He didn't even bother to answer, but looked up, amazed to see that he had lost sight of James completely. A wash of panic rushed through him as he started to weave through the crowd, searching for the small otter in the crowd. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was mildly aware of the fact that the mayor had begun his obligatory "Happy Holidays" speech.

"James?" he called. "JAMES!"

No answer, but he doubted that James would even hear him anyway. He ran through the crowd, his heart beginning to rush as he searched. The crowd suddenly started to clap and a few seconds later, a wash of multicolored light drew Warren's attention to the tree, now illuminated brightly and powerfully. The crowd was cheering loudly and the choir on stage began to sing the first of their carols.

With a heavy sigh, Warren sat down on an empty bench a few minutes later, arms crossed as he eyed the crowd. How the hell could that little otter disappear so--?

"Hey."

James's voice behind him made him jump and he looked over his shoulder. James stood there, smiling, his arm extended over Warren's head. Warren followed his arm, to the mistletoe dangling from James's paw. At once, Warren's expression fell and he jumped up, away from the bench.

"Where'd you go?" he demanded.

"Just shopping around," James remarked shyly, hurriedly stuffing the plastic mistletoe into his coat pocket. "Got a few gifts for a few people. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Where'd you that plant?"

"It's fake," James said nervously. "One of the kiosk guys gave it to me for free. Said it'd help... Just forget it."

"It'd help what?"

"It'd help me get my first kiss," James sighed, looking away. "Just forget it. It wasn't a good idea." He looked around Warren. "Isn't the tree awesome? And the choir sounded amazing! I wish I could sing!"

"Well, you and I could sing with the crowd," Warren remarked playfully.

"No. The crowd may be a bit off-key, but I'm tone deaf," James chortled. As usual, he lifted his paw to cover his mouth as he started to laugh. But his laughter died away almost immediately when he saw the look on Warren's face. He dropped his paw. "I'm sorry. I know you hate it when I do that."

"I just don't get why you do it," Warren said. "Why're you so embarrassed by your gap?"

"For the same reason you're embarrassed by your dyslexia."

"Low blow, Jimmy," Warren scoffed, "but you don't care about me being dyslexic. Why would I care about your gap?"

James shrugged, smiling, looking down at the snow.

"And for the record, the tree looks great."

James's smile got wider.

---

"JAMES? Is that you?!"

"Yeah, Di," James yelled back into the house.

At once, his sister emerged from the rear of the house, from her bedroom. She dashed into the living room and plopped down on the couch, patting the spot beside her, inviting James to join her. He sat down and unwrapped his scarf, setting it on the table.

"How'd it go?" she asked excitedly. "Did you kiss him? Did he kiss you?" Her eyes went wide. "Did you give him the gift? Did he--"

"I couldn't kiss him," James admitted quietly. "I couldn't even play it off as a joke." He pulled out the plastic mistletoe from his coat pocket. "Here. It didn't work."

She looked dejected. "Did you at least give him your gift?"

He shook his head. "I didn't even take it with me to give him. I doubt he'll like it."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll come around."

"Yeah, right," James grumbled. He stood up and stalked back to his bedroom.

---

"The fuck's wrong with you?" Mr. Makarov asked dismissively the next morning as his son sauntered into the kitchen. Warren glanced over at his father, mildly disgusted by his open robe and the milk dripping slightly out of his the side of his mouth. Mr. Makarov wiped it away with the back of his paw. "You not get any pussy last night?"

Rolling his eyes, Warren began to pour cereal into a bowl. "Where's the milk?"

"Fridge. Where'd you go last night anyway?"

Warren retrieved the milk and exhaled sharply. "Downtown. Me and a friend went to see the tree lighting."

"Oh. Nice date?"

"Went okay, I guess."

"You end with a kiss or a BJ?"

"Neither," Warren answered. "Not every date needs to end with sex, Dad."

"Probably why you're still a virgin."

"How'd your date go?" Warren quipped.

"I wasn't on a date," Mr. Makarov said. "Went to see your mom last night."

Warren paused, looking back at his father with amazement. "Why?"

"Because, believe it or not, I love your mother. I'm still in love with your mom." Mr. Makarov exhaled sadly. "Look, Warren, I don't expect you to get why we broke up. Hell, I don't fully get it myself. But I know when I fucked up."

"Is she coming home?"

"Is she here now?"

Warren shook his head.

"She's over me," Mr. Makarov explained, "but it can't be helped."

Warren swallowed thickly, his appetite suddenly disappearing. Then the doorbell rang and Warren hurried to answer it. He pulled the door open, but his excitement quickly vanished when he saw James Noels standing there, shivering slightly.

"What're you doing here so early?" Warren wondered. Then, he said, "Come in."

James crossed the threshold and turned to speak. "Good morning. I was just stopping by to... Are you okay?"

"Yeah, good."

"Who's at the door?!" Mr. Makarov yelled from the kitchen.

"Just a friend from school," Warren called back.

"Okay!"

"Would you like to go for a walk with me?" James asked suddenly.

Warren scowled. "You just came in after shivering your tail off and you want to go for a walk?"

"There's something... I need to talk to you!"

Warren jerked in amazement at the boldness in James's voice. "About what? Want to talk in my room?"

"... Okay..."

Warren led him back into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. James seated himself on the bed, surveying the room curiously. He pointed towards a bass guitar on its stand, intrigued.

"Is that a Pawser bass?" he wondered.

Warren smiled. "Yeah. Always preferred Pawsers. They just felt natural. So, what's the deal?"

"I was wondering if you would want to go out with me..." James's voice fell into an inaudible level, his head lowering to look at the floor.

"What?"

"I asked if you were busy on Christmas day," James said.

"I've actually been meaning to talk to you about that," Warren stated. "What're you going to be doing on Christmas? Where are you parents? They are coming home for--?"

"Can we not have this conversation?"

"Well, are you going to be alone on Christmas?" Warren questioned.

"I'll have my sister, but my parents have to work," James said. "What about you? Did your parents patch things up?"

Warren bit his lip before saying, "What'd you come here for?"

"I was just hoping we could hang out a bit," James murmured. "Do you have to work today?"

"Around two o'clock," Warren stated, eyes narrowing. "What'd you really want to--?"

"Well, what time do you take your break?"

"Around six, but--"

"Okay," James said, jumping up. "I'll stop by the store around six. I'll bring you lunch!" And he made his way towards the door, but Warren stepped in front of him. "Uh... Er... Hi?"

"Dude, what'd you really want to ask me? Just spit it out," Warren demanded irritably.

James looked down and reached into his pocket. "Well, are you busy on Christmas?"

"Not really. Why?"

"I was wondering if you'd want to spend time with me."

"Yeah, sure, dude. You know I wouldn't mind--"

"Not as friends," James explained. "Maybe... on a..." He swallowed and shook his head. "Please let me leave."

"Not until you tell me what you want to say."

"Well..." James reached into his pocket. "My parents got me these tickets for BlackTail and--"

"BlackTail the band?!" Warren gasped. "You got tickets?!"

"Yes... and I was hoping you would go with me..."

"YES! Dude, they're fucking awesome! When's the show? I'll be there!"

"It's on Christmas," James said, "and I was hoping you'd go with me--"

"Oh, hell yeah!"

"--on a date," James finished.

There was a brief moment of silence between them and in the small second of Warren's surprise, James had made a move towards the door, only to be stopped when Warren gripped his wrist. He looked away, ashamed by his suggestion, only to be surprised when Warren gripped his chin lightly, turning his face so that they were looking at each other.

"You still like me that way, don't you?"

James nodded shyly.

"I've been thinking recently that maybe I might be liking you too."

"You don't have to lie about it," James said. "I promise I'll give you your ticket and you can go to the show."

"Well, you're coming with me, right?"

"... Do you want me to?"

"Yeah," Warren answered. "I do."

---

"That... That was fucking epic," Warren breathed, his voice hoarse from cheering. He was making his way out towards the parking lot among the massive crowd, where James's sister waited for them patiently, no doubt enjoying her boyfriend's company.

"I'm glad you liked it," James said.

"Liked it? I fucking loved it!" Warren answered. He wrapped his arm around James. "I can't thank you enough for inviting me! You are just amazing!"

He moved to pull James into a hug, but James stepped back. "I don't think I'm so great. Just me. But there's something else I want to give you."

"Something else? I have something I want to give you too, but--"

"Me first, if you don't mind," James insisted. He walked faster and soon, with Warren close behind, they arrived at his sister's car. James knocked on the trunk's lid once, twice before his sister opened it from inside. James reached inside and pulled out a wrapped package, smiling. "This is for you. Merry Christmas."

Warren was struck dumb as he started to unwrap the package. His jaw dropped and he was hardly able to comprehend what he was seeing. Was this real?

"This... Is this a new bass?"

"Yep. A Pawser bass with your name over the neck," James explained. "And I also made sure that they included the best strings in the--"

"How could you afford this? These aren't cheap in the slightest and you even had it--I don't know what to say... James..."

"You don't have to say anything. It's just a Christmas present," James answered. "And you don't have to get me anything. I just really enjoyed being here with you."

"Well, I could try something," Warren said. He set the new bass back into the trunk delicately before pulling something out of his coat pocket. He dangled it between them and smiled as James's eyes found it--mistletoe. "So, do you want--"

James lunged forward, kissing Warren's lips with a passion and energy that seemed so unlike him. In his excitement, Warren nearly toppled over, but he quickly caught himself, returning the kiss and deepening it, his arms wrapping around James, enjoying the feeling of being so close to the otter.

My otter.

When he pulled back, he was smiling. "So, do you still like me?"

"I do."

"Do you want to be my boyfriend?"

"I do."

"I want to be your boyfriend too..."

"Really?"

"I do."

The sound of the horn broke into the moment, causing them both to jump in surprise.

"Can you two hurry up? I'm burning gas in here!"

"Way to ruin a moment, Diane!" Warren yelled.

"I can still leave you here!" Diane called back.

Warren rolled his eyes. "She just wrecked our moment. Are you going to let her get away with that?"

"I don't mind," James said. "I mean, this just might be my best Christmas ever. Even without my parents, at least I got you."

"I've got you too," Warren replied, "and the day's not over yet. I still have to give you my present."

"Where is it?"

"Back at my place. You wanna see it?"

James nodded eagerly as he jumped in the car, pulling Warren in behind him.

---

"Dad?!" Warren called hesitantly as he entered the house. There was no reply, as he expected, as his father's car was not in the driveway. "Guess he's not home," he murmured to himself. "Follow me. And Dad's got some food and stuff in the kitchen if you want something," he added to Diane and her boyfriend Eric.

They shrugged and walked off. Warren led James back into his bedroom, closing the door behind them. He took his new bass out of its case, placing it gingerly on its stand. After staring at it lovingly, he ducked into his closet, mumbling irritably as he dug his way to the back with James peering over his shoulder, eager to let a look.

"Sit down, you'll get your present," Warren said kindly.

"What is it?" James asked nervously, eager.

"Sit down," Warren remarked. "Just hold on!"

James looked dejected as he seated himself on the bed, arms crossed in a petulant display. When Warren pulled a large box from the closet, he turned to face James and immediately scowled.

"Dude, I just wanted you to keep calm. Don't be sad."

"What is it?" James inquired. "Just tell me! I hate suspense!"

Warren set the box on James's lap. "It's not as great as the bass you got me, but..."

James wasn't listening anymore. He tore into the box, leaving Warren speechless at the eager look on his boyfriend's face. (Boyfriend; he was getting used to it and liking it.) Soon, James was holding a new snare drum on his lap, his eyes wide as he looked carefully at the signature.

"Was this signed by...? Is this signature real?!"

Warren reached down, chortling. He picked up a paper, holding it out for James to look at. "Certificate of authenticity. Yes, it was signed by Will Hunt."

James set the snare down and stood up, hugging Warren lovingly, his head resting on the mouse's chest. Warren hugged him back, smiling.

"I know it's not the same as getting a whole new kit, but--"

"I don't care! I love it," James said. He pulled back a bit and looked into those eyes. They had become somehow softer since they'd first met. And he liked that look, a look that he felt was for him. He was about to kiss Warren when the door opened suddenly and they jumped apart. Diane studied them curiously before speaking.

"Are we allowed to eat that ham?"

"I don't care," Warren answered. "Can we have some privacy?"

"No," she answered, stepping away and leaving the door wide open.

Warren huffed. "Your sister's weird."

"So am I," James remarked. "Don't you like weird?"

Warren kissed James's forehead. "I do."