FSE

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_ The bright lights of the carnival swirled around us, blurred as all the sights and sounds were taken in at breakneck speed. The night could hardly be appreciated under the seemingly perpetual spotlight, and it was certainly enough for us to always have something to smile or laugh about._

_ Time seemed to slow only once. The ferris wheel. I knew it was a couple thing, but the folf had said he'd never ridden one. He also said he was afraid of heights, but would go for it if I'd ride it with him._

_ It wasn't a begrudging answer I gave him. It was an almost too eager yes, in fact. I don't think he noticed._

_ On top of the world, we hardly cared to look at anyone in particular. He pointed out the last dredges of sunlight just as they painted the last of the sunset for the evening before fading as well and leaving only faint light to the outside world._

_ In all the excitement, he turned to me once with this look in his eyes. Much more than just mismatched colors, I saw some sort of deep emotion. I remember being scared. Was it love in his eyes? Was it for me, or the day we'd had?_

_ It didn't last long. He eventually looked away with what I'd guess was a blush that I couldn't quiet make out. I filled the silence with yet more easy jokes, to which he responded half-heartedly._

_ I remember yawning almost immediately after getting off from that ride, and when Chris said he was fine going home, I was only sad for a little while. After all, I had to take home the gigantic stuffed fox he'd won me. I remember he grinned at me after winning that game; he said he'd been practicing so that someday he could impress someone._

_ The exchange hadn't meant anything to me at the time. Sure, I was impressed, but..._

That's not all he meant, was it?

I roll over in my bed, still hugging the huge plush fox. I can't sleep. Maybe I"m just too excited from the day we just had.

Maybe I just can't stop dreaming about him. I never have before, and I never wanted to either. We both had decided, so long ago, that we'd never be a couple thing. It's too complicated, or it's not something we're ready for.

But...aren't we? We're both mature, I think. Enough, anyways.

I know everything he likes, from his favorite restaurant to his favorite dish there, and which waiters he even likes to ogle while we're there. I remember feeling jealous about that too.

I know that he hasn't found someone his type, either. He is always talking about how he thinks that not enough people take him seriously when he says he's going to look into doing a lot of online art, and trying to make a career out of it. He says they always laugh or ask him if he's really convinced he can.

I...I always support him. Even when I tell him that the next date is no good for him, or that they'll only want sex. He's been okay with that before.

I sigh, staring at the ceiling of my room, past the spinning fan. The moonlight seems so bright outside that I can hardly stand lying down. I hug the fox to me again, and breathe in its scent again. It still has some semblance of the folf from when he won it for me, but more than that, it is a second sense reminder of the night we had.

How could he ride a ferris wheel with me and give me a stuff animal without thinking I'd... I gulp again. What am I going to do?

When I first got home, I did manage to sleep a little bit. I had a dream that our day extended a little while, going past the carnival and traveling back to his house. There, I finally came out with my feelings, which he reciprocated without hesitation.

From there we... Well, I mean, there's a lot of possibilities past there. I don't remember much more than a few blurs, but I do remember that the background never seemed to matter. It changed frequently, as though my dream was communicating how important we are to one another, despite all the places we could go.

I squeeze the fox again, tearing up a bit. There's absolutely no way I can just let this go. The two of us have been lonely too long, too long without people who care about us, too long without someone to hold closely.

It isn't a very well thought-out idea to decide on sneaking out, but I resolve into the idea that even I did text or call him, there's no guarantee I could say what I needed to, unable to see him. Or his eyes. It's easy to lie to a phone, but much less so to another face, one so carefree and devoid of judgement. I bite my lip, being careful as I get out of bed mostly to remain quiet. My parents wouldn't care as much about me leaving as the idea that I'd wake them so late into the night.

In fact, I bet they'd cheer me on if they knew I was finally taking charge, and about being with the friend of mine that they'd always loved, no less. I get dressed, but it's more in comfortable stuff than anything else, because I'm certainly not looking to impress at --watch glance-- 2 in the morning. Damn, it's late. Or early.

I sneak out of my window so that I don't set off the house alarm, thankful for claws that I can use for small amounts of leverage. I drop myself from that second floor window with a quiet landing, surprising myself for how tired I feel. There's nothing in my heart but a sore burning for admitting my feelings. Maybe I've felt this way for a while, and only tonight, after sincerely feeling like he already...likes me, do I come to this resolve that can't be shut down.

It doesn't take long for me to pad down the street to his house. He's only just moved into the place, but it's so close now that we spend a lot of time together. Sometimes I see unfamiliar cars parked in front, and the pangs of jealousy I feel pay no heed to rationality.

The night is decently well-lit, with the moon seeming almost huge in the sky. I can't see many stars, but I don't look for long anyway. My paws seem to be much better things to stare at while I try to compile these whirling thoughts into something that won't be creepy or overly attached.

I run out of time, approaching the side of his house where his window sits, the screen protection easy to move out of the way. We've done this before, long story short. What hasn't happened before is all of this... I sigh again. My heart feels like it pumps a little too hard, like a stress ball that forgets how to inflate again for a while. Never before had his window seemed so tall, or so narrow.

I grab a rock and throw it against his window, unsure if I could scramble up that wall again like I had so many times before. A second rock. I'm slowly getting more nervous, and the feeling has me on edge even more than I was already feeling.

I can't get myself to throw a third rock. Instead, I start to clamber up his shed, the first story easy to pass because of the small building. From there, on tiptoes, I reach up to his window and knock on the wall next to it.

A dim light comes up in his room, followed by the detachment of the screen on the inside of the window. He doesn't poke his head out.

When I clamber inside, he's waiting for me. Or, more accurately, he's laying on his back on his bed, an arm behind his back. He only looks at me fleetingly, shyly. I'm guessing he feels the same.

I'll always wake up so confused each time I have that dream of you... "I... Hi, Chris." I want to go straight for my point, but I'm struggling. I sit on the foot of his bed.

He smiles softly, his tail, laying next to him, taps once. It reminds me of a cat's tail that way. "Hey, kitty. Couldn't sleep?"

I shake my head. "How'd you know?"

He sighs and lays back again. One tail tap. Two tail tap. "I couldn't either. I--"

"I had a dream about you," we both say at the same time, but my confession is much closer to a complete blurt-out. We blush horribly, but he seems much more composed. He resigns to staring at the ceiling. Tail tap.

Things stay silent for a while. Eventually, I admit, "There's too much of that still in my head bouncing around and keeping me up. I only fell asleep a little while when I first got home."

He nods, his eyes following mine whenever I talk, but mine frequently darting about anxiously. I can only barely see his faint blush under the dim light of a small lamp, but it's enough for me to tell that he's feeling pretty close to the same. Since when was I the braver one? Ears still swiveling and pink, I quietly say, "I'll always wake up so confused, each time I have that dream of you, so if you dreamt of me too..."

He smiles and finishes for me. "Does that mean we had the same dream?" I feel my heartbeat thudding in my head, blurring the room with each pulse of blood. Distorting everything except that which I focus on, everything but Chris's eyes. The green and blue hues look back into my eyes for a long time, and I'm not sure what other times in my life I've felt the same stomach flipping as I do now. "Do you want to test that theory?"

Nothing else he could've said would throw me into so much confusion or conflict so quickly. Does he mean more than I do? Did we not dream of the same thing? My cheeks glow progressively brighter until he frowns and corrects himself, "Let me rephrase that. You dreamt of me, and I dreamt of you. Dreams are supposed to be...wish fulfillment, right?" Sitting up, he whispers, "So what are you wishing for?"

He pats the side of the bed he clears by sweeping his tail over the other side. When I go to move, I'm distracted enough to think little of the paw that finds my shoulder until, when I look, his muzzle meets mine. My thoughts, in fast succession, follow this sort of idea:

_ Oh my god! Why is he...he's kissing me! This is what I wanted when I came over here, I guess. My heart puts on the rapid beating, shaking my whole being. Are lips always this soft? Are mine? His lips taste like--_

Then, he slowly pulls away, eyes keyed into mine. That was probably three seconds. While I could continue to my spot as designated by him, I choose a better place. I nervously crawl closer until I'm sitting in his lap, my legs opposite of his. I'm so fixated on his face that I hardly realize that he looks about as confused but as eager as I do.

"I don't know why we didn't do this sooner," he whispers, looking almost sad not to have kissed me in the past. His eyes glimmer.

I don't trust words for the time being, so instead I lean forward and kiss him again, just briefly. Why haven't kisses been so simple but so...great, in the past? Fuzz gathers in my soul and blurs everything, muting sounds outside and amplifying all I touch. There's no way to explain why I feel this great kissing him. He almost tastes like--

I'm thwarted yet again, but this time by myself, hoping not to seem too far into this already. When I pull away this time, I don't go far. I hold my nose against his, and look again into his eyes. There's an intensity of emotion I feel swelling in me, but I don't shy away from it. I see it mirrored in the folf, and I almost say something before he grabs my shoulders to pull me close again.

I hardly notice that he pulls me over him as I close my eyes to kiss him again. I guess with these things, there's no diminishing returns. I want to stop, but I can't until I find out what that taste is! My chest feels warm and undistinguished, as though I lose my heartbeat. If my heart burst, these final moments will be the best I could have ever not imagined, but only dreamed.

We stay interlocked a while longer this, allowing paws to wander and low sounds to rumble in our chests, especially as he makes odd wolf-fox sounds of approval that I answer with simple purring. My paws make it under his shirt, but I can hardly memorize any detail when I'm so busy enraptured with his soft lips, still puzzling over why I can't get over this feeling.

Faintly I register everything around us, hoping to remember the whole scene as more than just a dream, the sound of crickets chirping softly outside answered by slow symphonies of wind rustling the trees in his backyard.

I make some sort of odd muffled sound when one his paws negotiates a gentle caressing of my left ear, and then I melt into even more purrs than I had before, eventually afraid (and then too far-gone to care) of waking up the neighborhood with an earthquake between my heart and my approval.

I feel the folf start to lift my shirt from where it was resting, and I'm jolted by a guilty panic. Pulling my muzzle away, I huff, "N-not yet! Please...c-can we just..." His eyes had opened to hear my plea, but as always, remained neutral. He smiles and kisses my nose once, reassuring me.

His paws close together around my back, and while I was initially afraid of flattening him, he encourages me to rest atop him, only occasional, gentle kisses marking the passage of time.

Finally, I can feel that exhaustion creeping back in on me. The folf manages to get a light sheet over the both of us, but I can hardly shiver for as long as I'm so close to him. Neither of us ask what this means about us. It's not something that could be answered so easily.

I look into his eyes, yawning after I promise, "I'll never leave."

His small smile, full of hope on that promise, and sincerity to keep up his end, warms me again, also reminding me where my heart is, finally. "I'll never leave."

The last thing I remember feeling are his calm breaths over my ears, holding me so close.

---

Okay, guilty confession time. It was very very very very very very very hard to not end this in a way that would be very one-off. I originally planned for it all to be a dream, and that that would be the point, only that Max would be a lucid dreamer who coincidentally confessed this to his biggest crush and had those feelings reciprocated. I couldn't bring myself to do that.

That said, look out for these guys! They're cute, but if I follow every song that I'd want to write about, there's going to be some roller-coaster riding in the future! I'll let you decide what I mean by that.

Leave a comment/fave/watch if you like! Thanks!