Burdens - Chapter 30: Illusion
#30 of Burdens
:T
Chapter 30: Illusion
The fox woke up again. Light had not necessarily been streaming into the room, but there was definitely a bright glow from the blinds that made him keep his eyes closed. He tried to remember what had happened the day prior, but it was merely bits and pieces.
He felt behind him, having had the wolf hold him being the last thing he recalled, but he felt nothing. He rolled over and saw no trace of the wolf. He figured he was eating or helping with his family. He sighed and sat up.
His body ached from the prior day. He looked around the room, checking to see if he merely missed the wolf, but he did not, at least not in that sense. He looked at where he slept, and there was no trace of the wolf having laid with him, no evidence to even suggest such an event. He wondered if he was merely a dream.
It left him with a sense of yearning that he could not dismiss. He reminisced. He accepted that he did not mind so much the physical contact, even welcomed it, but it was not normal. He was not supposed to feel that way about someone he hardly knew, much less another guy that was so different. He grumbled and stood up. His legs felt like jelly and pain.
He heard shuffling from the kitchen and assumed what he had guessed was correct. He wandered out in that direction. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes all the while, then he heard small clattering of cereal being poured into a bowl.
He looked over and saw the younger wolf making breakfast for himself. He struggled with the milk container, so the fox walked over and helped him with it.
He asked, "Hey, where's your brother?"
"He's in the backyard. He always is on Sunday," the wolf replied. He thanked him and gave his leg a hug and wandered off to go eat his food. The fox shrugged it off and made his way to the backyard.
There was the wolf, atop the grass, doing push-ups. Roger made his way to him, sat down and said, "Hey. Thought you just liked playing ball?"
Hunter stopped for a moment and gave a soft laugh. "Yeah, I guess, but that doesn't mean I can't be good at it." He resumed his push-ups.
It was a fairly bright day. The fox watched him rise and fall. After a few moments he asked, "How many have you done so far?"
The wolf stopped, propped on his arms. "A couple hundred.... I think. I don't keep count. I just do it until I feel it's enough."
Roger was somewhat surprised by the number. Yet, it seemed believable, judging by how the wolf kept pushing. He seemed to be somewhat tired, but there was no real strain in his motions. He was like a machine, doing the same motions over and over.
He stopped and flopped on the ground. He looked at the fox and wagged his tail. He informed him that he was done, having completed what he wanted to do for the day, most of it having been done before the fox had even woken.
Hunter sat up on his knees and let out a large breath. He looked at the fox and asked, "Hey, could you help me stretch?"
Roger felt his face flush slightly, but responded, "S-sure. How do I do that?"
The wolf gestured for him to stand up while also doing the same. He then gave him his arm, told him to push on it, and waited. The fox gently grasped around where his wrist was, and pushed.
"Come on, you can go a bit harder than that," the wolf remarked, smiling. Roger pushed a bit harder, and the wolf twisted a bit. His face seemed to be still, almost focused, and then he pushed even harder, almost pushing the fox away, who struggled to stand his ground.
Then came time for the other arm. Maintaining his position was drawing his attention from any lewd thoughts. After the arm stretches, the wolf fell to the floor gently, and then began stretching on his own, no longer requiring much aid, except when he went to touch his toes.
He had asked the fox to push on his back, but not too hard. Roger had seemed uncertain, but did as he was told. He was hesitant, but he truly felt eager, almost too much so. He laid his paws on the rear of the wolf's shoulders and pushed. It felt warm, and he gripped his shoulders softly as he pushed, taking the opportunity to feel them.
He felt the wolf's back pop a few times as he did so, which snapped his attention back to the task at hand. He pushed harder until the wolf told him that it was just hard enough. At that point, the wolf was just grabbing onto his feet. The fox could feel the heat emanate off him and could smell the wolf, much more defined than the day prior.
He almost got lost in his scent. Just about when he was to lose his awareness did the wolf speak up, signaling to him to release him. He did so slowly, so as not to injure the wolf.
After a few more stretches, they returned to the room. Roger looked at his jumble of blankets on the floor and began to fold them and put them aside. He still wondered whether or not the events of the night prior actually occurred, and he wanted to ask, but could not think of a proper way to do so, or even if it was an appropriate question to ask.
He still saw no evidence of it ever happening, but really what evidence could he possibly hope to find? He was no forensic investigator, he would not find a stray hair on his blanket. Even if he did, it belonged to the wolf, and it happened to be in the wolf's room; it would prove nothing. The only way to really prove it would be to ask and confirm, but he could not figure out the best way to bring up such a thing to discuss.
The wolf had taken to his books, trying to study what they had learned before. He seemed to be putting in more of an effort than before, but he still had much work to do. Roger looked through his other books and discerned just what he would have to study in the coming months.
Months. He thought about it and took notice that this was merely the only first weekend they had to study together. They had at least an academic semester more to do so, and if the wolf was still serious about them being friends, then probably longer. He did not mind being around him anymore, he actually liked it, if not because it was a change of pace, but also because he was slowly growing attached. He recognized the thought and cast it aside, though. It was not time for that.
He put the books on his lap and sighed. The wolf looked over and asked, "What's wrong?"
The fox paused for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to ask what he really wanted to ask. The position did not bug him so much as the uncertainty. It plagued his mind, that his reality could merely be a dream. He spoke lowly, saying at first, "Well, um...."
He trailed off, but the wolf merely gave a puzzled expression. It was a gesture to prompt him, he was sure, so he figured he would honor it.
"Well, I've got a question for you," he said.
The wolf nodded. "Yeah, what's up?"
Roger looked away for a moment, but then went back to looking at the book covers. He figured he'd finally ask, even if he did not have a proper way to do so.
"Were you, um... last night, this morning, whenever it was, but uh..." he began. The wolf's expression did not change.
"Were you holding me?" he finally asked.