He Doesn't Love You (unfinished)
Original story by Foxpaws Zupe, rewritten in my style at his request...all else belongs solely to him!
He Doesn't Love You (unfinished)
words ©2007 Whyte Yoté
story © unknown
FEEDBACK always welcome to: [email protected]
His baked Alaska was sitting in front of him, uneaten. It was getting cold, but Derrick paid as much attention to it as he would a discarded old paint can. He smelled it, and it was likely one of the most enticing aromas he'd smelled all evening, but he was having trouble getting around to digging in. Instead, Derrick was watching the delicate paws of the fox across from him as they worked the knife and fork within them, cutting a piece of Dulce de Leche cheesecake into small bites before eating each one. Before the next forkful could get to Tyler's muzzle, the otter reached out and touched his fingertips to the black paw.
"I love you."
The way the fox stopped dead in the middle of whatever he was doing, no matter what he was doing, when he heard those three words--it had a comical sense to it, as if Tyler were an actor in a romantic comedy and he knew what points at which his audience was supposed to laugh. He almost dropped the fork onto his plate; one end of it just barely tinked against the shiny white ceramic. A lot happened simultaneously: his ears twitched backwards, he looked downward and a furious blush spread underneath his already bright cheekfur. It was always a mystery to Derrick how Tyler could be so humble when accepting comments like that. Maybe it was what the otter had been suspecting for the past couple of months. Maybe he was dead wrong. Maybe he didn't know as much as he thought he knew.
Either way, Tyler didn't show any sign of uneasiness other than slight embarrassment. Derrick did shit like this often. He was rich enough to be able to live very comfortably for the rest of his life, and from looking at him people wouldn't think he was the kind of person who needed to compensate for something, but money didn't necessarily mean security. In fact, it was quite the opposite; the more the otter spent on his fox, the more he felt he needed to show he wasn't throwing cash around to keep Tyler at his side. The vulpine was special to him, and he wanted to make sure he knew it.
Dinner at fancy restaurants like this were romantic, but the real love came with the random moments of day-to-day life with Tyler. There were long evenings spent next to the hearth in the Great Room, backs to the flames and Rachmaninov piped from the walls. Weekend mornings, most of the time, were reserved for lackadaisical spooning and dozing as the sun crept over the horizon and into the French doors to welcome them to a new day. After all this time, clandestine kisses given and taken in a darkened movie theatre still made the otter's hackles stand on end, and those were the moments when he felt most contented and in control of his life. Tyler gave him security to a point, and while he couldn't make up for the rest, he could ignore it most of the time.
Tyler's paw closed around the otter's, over the bread basket, and finally the fox's grey-green eyes met his own. "I love you too." It was simple, and expected, but Derrick felt tingles all the way to the tip of his tail...and other places. The rest of the vulpine's muzzle flushed out, his neck poofed up, and he turned to the side abruptly, exhaling softly. He, too, was hesitant to accept verbal affection of any kind, but he was just a shy fox. Derrick was boisterous and outgoing, but he had his own issues.
As Tyler let the otter's paw go, he seemed to relax a little; he'd been squirmy all night so far. As a rule, the fox was high-strung and a little self-conscious. That didn't necessarily mean agoraphobia, more like he paid attention to his appearance a little closer than others. Then again, gay foxes will be gay foxes. Tyler put another dainty bite of cheesecake into his muzzle after blowing Derrick a dainty kiss, his long ebony hair falling loosely over bright russet fur shining even in the low glow of candlelight in the most expensive restaurant in town.
The subtle differences between him and Tyler were what attracted them to each other, Derrick mused as he watched his boyfriend carefully consume his dessert. That he tended to wear clothes slightly too tight for his slender frame hardly bothered the otter; truthfully, he got a morbid sense of reverse schadenfreude catching other peoples' ogling stares as they walked the boulevard. Derrick's own sense of casual bespoke style lent grace and obviousness to his status. He didn't have to look like a million bucks, but he did like to look nice. The only sign of true vanity was the Rolex on his right wrist. The piece wasn't suited to him, but it was all about impression. Appearance for the sake of same and all that.
Derrick smiled, and had to keep himself from smiling too widely. He'd just felt the rush of disbelief he sometimes experienced when things seemed to be going too perfectly, too...too right. Every time this happened the otter waited for something to come and spoil the moment. Thankfully, such a thing had not yet occurred. His ears perked at the soft music from above; Salieri had started to play. It was as if the moment needed to be accentuated enough. Tyler's foot gently rubbed against the otter's heel; it was Derrick's turn to blush now, so he went to finishing his own dessert.
It was near on nine o'clock when they were done, which was just fine by both males. Having a nice dinner out, they'd found, was more about taking time to forget the day, and life in general, and enjoy the things they liked to do together. Food was one of their shared passions. Derrick a gastronomist, Tyler a sous-chef; evenings out more than likely were to end in deep critical discussions about flavor and palate and the like. Tonight, though, both fox and otter had been quieter, and while the silence was golden it was a bit unsettling as well.
After letting Tyler finish at his own pace, Derrick took care of the check and gathered their coats before leading him out of the restaurant to the chilly night outside. Diners shot the couple looks, both of interest and mild disgust. The city was big, but it did little to dilute some people's discomfort for the lifestyles of others. Still, Derrick felt a perverse satisfaction in tucking the fox tighter into his side and nuzzling his cheek as they exited. Bigots, they would just have to live with the sight.
For April, snow was rare but not unheard of, and it dusted the street just lightly enough to be noticeable without actually sticking to the ground. Little flakes here and there hit Derrick's nose, though. Tyler hemmed and hawed for a moment before remembering in which direction they had parked, and they had no sooner than started walking when someone uttered four short but powerful words:
"He doesn't love you."
4/14/07