Push You Down
"Revival"
Synmoni
A story of betrayal and love renewed.
This is my first ever furry story, so be nice, PLEASE!! *pouts cutely, bunny ears drooping* As long as you're nice, feedback is greatly appreciated. :-)
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Part 1:
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Prologue:
"You cannot be serious, Cresdev. Please tell me that you are joking?"
"I'm not. Go on. Please him as you would please me."
Shahaadra's heart falls. His long tail hangs limply behind him on the seat of the chair, touching the floor. He lowers his eyes, covering the drop of a tear with the movement. How could his mate-to-be, the one person he loves in the world, ask him to do for some stranger what they did together when they were alone? He had wondered about their love and whether or not it meant much to Cresdev, but never had he thought that Cresdev, as the dominant male in their relationship, would order him to please another male with his body.
Glancing up, Shahaadra looks into the eyes of the cream stallion whom they had just met. The stallion does not even flinch when he sees the pain in Shahaadra's eyes. He smirks. Shahaadra would not stand for this. If Cresdev felt so little for him that he would offer his body to another male, a male stallion who would undoubtedly tear his insides to shreds with his girth, then he didn't belong with him.
"No."
The stallion looks like he's been struck across the face and Cresdev seems to doubt what he has heard.
"I will not give myself to this sex-addicted beast simply because you tell me to." The stallion visibly winces at the cut. Shahaadra's voice thickens as he stares into his once-dominant partner's eyes.
"We are through. Do not expect to see me again."
Before Cresdev can say anything, Shahaadra turns and walks out of the bar and night club.
The stallion looks to Cresdev and shrugs. Cresdev does likewise, feeling no regret or compassion for Shahaadra. The young panther had been blind enough to believe that he loved him, and so Shahaadra had invited the pain. He would know better in the future. The loss of the stallion's money would hurt, but not much.
Grinning, Cresdev motions the stallion over and asks if he'd like to know what a wolf could do for him instead. Sitting next to Cresdev where Shahaadra had been sitting, the stallion smiles and nods, simultaneously sliding his forehoof along the wolf's upper thigh.
It was turning out to be an exciting night.
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Chapter 1:
Shahaadra barely makes it out the door before tears begin streaking out of his eyes, soaking the soft black fur of his face. His body is wracked with sobs as he leans against the wall beside the entrance to the bar with his paws on his knees. Passerby look at him curiously, some pityingly, but none interfere with the obviously miserable young panther.
Shahaadra slowly sinks to the ground, his strength leaving as the last few moments catch up to him. He buries his face in his forepaws, ashamed both at his stupidity and his falling apart like this in public.
The door next to him opens slowly, a red fox peering around the edge. After seeing Shahaadra sitting there, he steps out and tentatively kneels next to him, trying to decide how, and if, he could help.
Clearing his throat, the fox hesitates slightly, almost wishing he hadn't decided to help the distressed panther.
"Look, I . . . I saw what happened in there. Well, everybody did, I suppose. It was pretty obvious." Inwardly kicking himself for a fool, the fox takes a deep breath and trys again.
"What I mean to s . . ."
A growl catching in his throat, Shahaadra looks up at his new tormentor and says, "Just leave me alone!" His voice catches and he continues, "Can't you see that I've had enough already?"
Putting his head back in his paws, Shahaadra hopes that the red fox will leave him alone.
Glancing down at his own paws, the fox sighs and again wonders if he should just re-enter the bar. But the pain of the gorgeous panther tugs at his heart and demands that he at least try to help.
"Alright, I'll leave. But . . . but first I think you should know that, despite the pain and the feeling of betrayal, you did the right thing. Not many in your place would have had that kind of strength."
Shahaadra knows that the fox is trying to give him the emotional support that he needs, and he suddenly feels guilty for being so short with him.
'I'm hurt, but I shouldn't make others suffer for it.'
Shahaadra looks up at the fox and, using all of his will forces himself to hold in the tears and the turmoil, at least until he can get home.
As the panther looks up at him, the fox is hit with the vibrancy of the feline's emerald eyes. He has never seen such eyes before. Then, amazed at himself for thinking of the cat's looks at a time when that should be the last thing on his mind, he says, "Do you need a ride home? I'd be happy to give you a lift."
Taken aback by the unexpected and kind offer, Shahaadra trys to force a smile over the shocked expression on his face but only minimally succeeds. "You're," getting a catch in his voice from his very recent tears, "very kind to offer, but I don't think I should."
"Why not? You need help and I'm offering it to you. I'd feel slighted if you refused without first having some other means of transportation." Pausing a bit, aware that he may have been coming off a bit too aggressively, the fox continues. "Sorry. I don't mean to be forceful. I just want you to know that, should you need it, I am willing and able to help."
"Alright. I suppose I could use a ride."
"Good. My car is parked across the street. Do you need to do anything before we leave?"
A bitter tinge in his voice, "No. I'm done here."
Standing and offering his paw to Shahaadra, the handsome fox says, "The name's Colwyn."
Forcing a smile of gratitude, the black panther takes Colwyn's paw and replies, "Shahaadra."
Following Colwyn to his car, Shahaadra cannot help but think that his mysterious benefactor has a beautiful, bushy tail and an even more beautiful rear-end. Shahaadra then wonders if he might be asking for a repeat of his experiences with Cresdev. Shahaadra's body involuntarily shudders with now suppressed emotion. He had thought that he had found true love, and Cresdev had betrayed him.
Steeling himself, Shahaadra promises himself that he will never allow anyone to hurt him like that again. Ever.
They reach Colwyn's vehicle and Shahaadra gets in the proferred seat on the passenger side, feeling Colwyn's smile the entire time. The cushions in the car are a rich black leather and Shahaadra smiles in spite of himself.
'I like this fox's color choice.'
But, as the fox climbs into the driver's seat, Shahaadra loses his smile and he thinks of Cresdev. Despite what had been done to him, he still loves Cresdev, hates him, now, but loves him. The wolf had been the first person to show him any true kindness and had opened his eyes to the pleasures of the fur. They had everything going for them, but Cresdev had just thrown him away. Moisture begins to collect in Shahaadra's eyes again as Colwyn starts the car and begins driving.
Noticing the tears in the eyes of his beautiful and distraught passenger, Colwyn quickly thinks up a question to ask Shahaadra before he becomes too lost in grief. "So, Shahaadra. Where do you live?"
"Huh?"
"I'm taking you home, right?"
"Oh! Uh, yeah."
Wiping away the tears, Shahaadra realizes that he has nowhere to go: everything he owned was with Cresdev at his apartment and he didn't have the keys. Nor would Cresdev likely give him anything if he asked.
"I suppose you can drop me off in front of the North Station Den."
Surprised at the uncertainty in Shahaadra's voice, Colwyn asks, "You have a place, don't you? I mean, you're not planning on renting a den there?"
Colwyn doesn't know just how involved Shahaadra had been with that asshole, Cresdev, but if they had been living together, then Shahaadra wouldn't have much.
Shahaadra looks down at his paws in his lap. He didn't want to admit that he was indeed intending to rent a den, at least until he could get back on his feet. He didn't even have a job because Cresdev had insisted on paying for everything while they were together and refused to let Shahaadra work.
Since Shahaadra wasn't saying anything, Colwyn glances over at him while weaving past a really slow vehicle in front of him. "You're not paying for a room just becuse that jerk left you without anything. I take it you don't have a job, either?"
Shahaadra doesn't say anything and Colwyn takes that as an affirmative. "Alright. No complaints, I'm taking you to my den. It's in center-city and I have a few extra rooms. You can stay with me for as long as you need."
Jerking his head around sharply and swiveling his ears, Shahaadra looks at this fox who has been so kind to him. "No, I can't . . ."
"Now, you're staying with me. I don't want to hear any complaints from you."
Gulping at the tone in Colwyn's voice, Shahaadra shakes his head and says timidly, "You hardly know me."
Realizing that his tone has scared his new friend, Colwyn says more gently, "You're right: I don't really know you, but I'm in a position to help someone who needs it and I see no reason not to give that help." Now grinning slightly, "Is there something I should know about you?"
Chuckling nervously despite himself, Shahaadra simply shakes his head. "No, I promise I'm legal." *
Letting out an amused bark of laughter, Colwyn's ears perk up and his grin turns into a genuine smile. "Excellent! Does that mean I can ravage you senseless?"
Forgetting his fear and his pain, Shahaadra finds himself relaxing in the company of this beautiful, hazel-eyed fox. 'Funny that I would notice that now.' Mentally shrugging it off, Shahaadra lets himself really smile, laughing lightly, his youthful tenor filling the car with new life. "Only if you successfuly get me pissed, first." **
Encouraged by Shahaadra's buoyant tone, Colwyn starts ticking off his claws, being careful of traffic. "Okay, then, let's see . . ." Ticking off one claw, "One, get Shahaadra home." Ticking off a second, "Two, get out the illegal C-nip." *** Smiling widely and ticking a third claw, watching Shahaadra laugh, "And three, ravage him senseless."
Shahaadra can't help it: the banter with his new friend, for friend he seems to be, is just what he needs, giving him a chance to forget about Cresdev for a bit. The pain is still there, but it seems distant somehow, almost like it had happened to someone else. He doesn't understand it, but he won't question the relief he now feels.
'It probably helps that I feel safe with him, for whatever reason.'
Colwyn pulls into a parking space, still smiling brightly at Shahaadra. He can't help admiring the amazingly pure light that shines in the panther's emerald orbs when he smiles.
"Let's go inside."
Colwyn gets out, Shahaadra following close behind. Center-city could be dangerous when one was alone, especially for someone like Shahaadra, who seemed to become the target of unwanted stares wherever he goes.
Walking up to an only slightly run-down apartment building, Colwyn opens the door and leads Shahaadra up a flight of stairs to the second landing. Turning off, Colwyn saunters over to the third door on the right, number 16, and pulls out his keys.
Shahaadra stops a little ways behind him, glancing around at the peeling, off-white paint on the walls and the horrid, lime-green woodwork edging the tiled floor.
Shahaadra, reminded of his bleak situation, feels a considerable drop in his spirits. This will be his home until he can save enough money to get his own place, and even then, he won't likely be able to find anything better that he could afford.
'Damn you, Cresdev! Why did I fall in love with you?'
Having expected Colwyn's apartment to reflect the rest of the building, Shahaadra is pleased when Colwyn opens the door to show a tastefully decorated combination living-dining area.
Dark mahogany side-tables are situated on either side of a black leather love-seat; a chair, obviously from the same set, has been placed off to the side. The dark furniture is nicely accented by the off-white carpeting. A nice-sized television takes the place of honor in the front of the room. A small, wrought-iron, glass-topped table is setting a few feet in front of it. Thick white candles sit on each table, the melted wax clearly indicating fairly common use.
Shahaadra steps inside, Colwyn closing the door behind him, and can now see a hallway leading off to the left, two doors on the right of the hall. Various framed photos and paintings finish off the hallway.
To his right, Shahaadra sees a second doorway leading to what is obviously a kitchen. It's small, but seems 'lived in.' That's a plus in Shahaadra's book since he loves to cook.
Colwyn gives Shahaadra a few moments to look around, picking up his mail from the day before. Quickly glancing through it, he drops it back down and looks up at his new den-mate.
"It's not much, but I've done what I can to make it more livable. The landlord is a college friend so he's given me a few liberties with the place."
Giving an appreciative, though shy, smile, Shahaadra says, "I think you've done a great job. Actually, I was a little worried when I saw the outside."
"Haha! Well, I'm glad to have disappointed you, then." Colwyn makes a sweeping gesture with his forearm, taking in the room and bowing dramatically. "My humble abode, now also your humble abode."
Shahaadra smiles at Colwyn's cheeky grin and looks down at the carpet, his amusement fading. Softly, concealed pain evident in his voice, he whispers, "Thank you."
Colwyn loses his grin and becomes serious; stepping closer to the panther, Colwyn replies, "It's no problem, Shahaadra. Forget about why you're here . . . Just, well . . . just know that you are here and have fun. You know, kinda like we're room-mates at college."
Carefully considering this panther for whom he feels a strong sense of protectiveness, Colwyn adds, "C'mon. I'll show you around." He offers his paw to him.
Sniffing a little, Shahaadra looks up and grins wanly at Colwyn. Reaching out to grasp the fox's paw, Shahaadra accepts Colwyn's imaginary setting and nods. Then, smiling more fully, he says, "Alright roomy. I cook the meals."
Smiling, Colwyn nods back, squeezing the panther's paw slightly. Colwyn lets go, dropping his own paw back to his side.
"Good, because my cooking has been likened to damp cardboard already, and eating a properly cooked meal should be a treat."
Shahaadra takes in the comment and says, "Okay. Um . . . I suppose I should do the shopping then, too, huh?"
Shahaadra doesn't fully understand why, but he's beginning to really like this: his life has taken on something of a drama.
'Certainly, it's more exciting now than it was with Cresdev. I didn't realize it before, but I was always walking on egg-shells around him. Maybe this is a good thing.' Then, hating himself for thinking it, 'I still want you to love me, Cresdev. I wish that you had loved me."
Colwyn is about to reply when Shahaadra's eyes become unfocused, the panther losing himself in his thoughts. Colwyn isn't sure if he should interrupt, but just as he decides and steps forward to touch the panther's arm in an attempt to get his attention, Shahaadra shakes himself slightly and, looking up, smiles sheepishly at Colwyn.
"Sorry. I'm still catching up to everything that's happened."
Colwyn smiles reassuringly.
"S'okay. Why don't we call it a day? I don't have a lot of space here right now, but you can sleep on the couch for tonight. Tomorrow, I'll clean out the extra room and set you up in there. Sound good?"
Shahaadra nods gratefully.
Colwyn continues, pointing over Shahaadra's shoulder, "Okay. The bathroom door is over there, in the corner. Feel free to use the towels and what-not in there. Oh! If you decide to take a shower, be careful of the hot-water valve - it's touchy. I'll get some extra covers and coffee ready for when you're done."
Shahaadra nods again, mumbles a quiet thank you and turns to where Colwyn had been pointing. He sees the door and heads over, intent on getting out of his party-clothes. Shahaadra feels oddly grateful to Colwyn for taking control and telling him what needs to be done - it's been a while since he'd had the freedom to make his own decisions, having relied on Cresdev, and Shahaadra didn't quite trust himself to know what to do and when to do it anymore.
Colwyn watches as the young panther makes his way to the bathroom, concern for his friend apparent in his posture. As Shahaadra steps into the bathroom, Colwyn turns and pads to the large, walk-in closet across from the bedrooms to get the covers and pillow for the couch.
Shahaadra closes the door behind himself, noting the black, silver, and gold decor of the small bathroom. Dropping his gaze for an instant, he turns to the mirror and looks at himself critically.
Returning to the main room, Colwyn quickly tucks in the inner sides of the sheet and blanket beneath the cushions and places the pillow at one end. He then glances at the bathroom door before heading into the kitchen to prepare the promised coffee.
In the mirror, Shahaadra's bloodshot emerald eyes gaze back to him, his cheek-fur flattened and slick from his tears. Shahaadra realizes that he will have matts there if he doesn't get cleaned before it dries.
Shaking his head ruefully, Shahaadra continues his self-inspection: his dark green, silk dress-shirt appears rumpled, his black leather pants are sticking to his legs uncomfortably.
'It's amazing how quickly one can look like Hell, just from emotions. Spirits,**** I look horrible.'
Shahaadra runs his claws through his head-fur, sighing deeply. He begins unbuttoning his shirt, starting at the top. His sleek, toned chest slowly comes into view. The pure black of his fur is interrupted by a dark gray, star-shaped mark above his right pectoral.
Shahaadra silently muses whether or not his mother would be proud of him as he shucks his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. His paws move to the silver chain he's using as a belt and unhook it, leaving the rest in the loops of his pants. He unsnaps the four buttons and pushes the pants down his muscled thighs, his fur smoothing as the material is pulled away.
Kicking off his trainers, Shahaadra finishes peeling the tight pants off his body, dropping them to the floor with his shirt.
Looking into the mirror again, Shahaadra decides that his mother would not be proud of what he's made of his life: she would have wanted him to make something worthwhile of himself, something memorable.
Feeling a deep and old sadness envelop him, Shahaadra drops his gaze and turns to the shower stall, quickly turning the hot water to full-blast. The roar of the water hitting the stall covers the sound of the ragged breaths Shahaadra is forcing himself to take. He steps back and finishes stripping, adding his silk green boxers to the pile on the floor.
Wanting to lose himself in the water's soothing caress as he'd done countless times when he was a kitten in attempts to sooth his often bruised muscles, Shahaadra turns on the cold water and, without reducing the pressure, steps under the still-steaming water. His body is wracked by a sob he can't hold back any longer, his tears of pain and loss mixing unheeded with the scalding water.
As the cold water starts to cool the spray, Shahaadra's tensed muscles sag, his tears stopping slowly as he collects himself.
Murmuring to himself, "He's gone, I'm safe. He's gone, I'm safe. I'm safe . . . I'm safe." Shahaadra's voice becomes sofer and softer until his lips are barely moving, the words coming out as a low humming sound. Shahaadra breathes in deeply and exhales heavily, calming down. Leaning forward and resting his forehead against the shower wall, Shahaadra mentally berates himself for losing his control, for letting his childhood memories overcome him.
'Spirits, I'm pathetic.'
Pushing away from the wall, Shahaadra picks up the lavender-scented shampoo and washes his fur thoroughly, scrubbing away the hardships of the day and leaving his fur sleek and shiny.
As he finishes rinsing off, Shahaadra turns off the water and steps into the adjacent dryer stall, flicking the switch as he goes. Hot air blows out of the wall-mounted nozels at a downward angle, smoothing out and drying the ruffled fur. Shahaadra closes his eyes and relaxes under the air massage, letting his thoughts drift to his benefactor and den-mate, Colwyn. He can't hold back the smile that the thought procures.
'What luck that my life would crumble apart only to have the pieces caught and glued back together by a complete stranger . . . a complete, beautiful, stranger.'
Suddenly, the hardships of the day catch up to him, the dryer-induced relaxation and the exhaustion working to put him to sleep right there. As quickly as possible for his now sluggish muscles, Shahaadra shuts off the dryer and steps out, reaching to his boxers.
After neatly stumbling into them, Shahaadra gathers the rest of his clothes in a bundle and leaves the bathroom, only sub-consciously noting that he should brush his teeth. Not even realising it, Shahaadra mumbles out loud, "I don't have a toothbrush."
Colwyn, who had just left the kitchen with two mugs of coffee, looks at the awkwardly moving panther and quickly sets the mugs down on an end-table and crosses over to Shahaadra. Reaching out, Colwyn places a paw on Shahaadra's upper arm and grabs his clothes with the other.
"Here, let's get you to the couch - you look like you're falling asleep on your feet."
Shahaadra looks into Colwyn's hazel gaze and nods, smiling wearily as the fox leads him to the prepared couch and gently pushes him onto it. Shahaadra relaxes into the soft cushions, suddenly finding it very hard to keep his eyes open. Consciously forcing himself to stay awake and at least give his thanks to Colwyn again and, maybe, even crawl under the covers before falling asleep. Shahaadra glances up at the patiently smiling fox and smiles in return.
"Thank you . . . for everything, Colwyn. I . . . that is, I'm . . . grateful." By the end of his halting speech, Shahaadra is nearly whispering and he finds himself in a full-blown blush: his ears are flat against his head, his whiskers pulled back and down, and his traitorous nose turning a darker-than-usual shade of pink, the color creeping along his muzzle.
Unable to help himself, his concerns temporarily mitigated, Colwyn bursts out laughing, spluttering with his attempts to keep his amusement hidden.
Shahaadra tries to scowl, or, at least, frown, at his oh-so-obviously amused companion, but Colwyn's laughter is contagious and Shahaadra can feel a grin easing up the corners of his mouth. His almost-scowl then transforms into a full smile as Colwyn loses his ability to stand and collapses into the chair next to the couch, dropping the forgotten clothes to the floor.
Colwyn knows that Shahaadra isn't exactly amused by his laughter, but he really can't help it, especially when the panther, despite himself, grins as well, the blush which started this entire fit only now starting to recede. Using an unprecedented amount of willpower, Colwyn brings his laughter under control and smirks misheviously at Shahaadra, who seems a bit sheepish, his ears flicking every so often.
Quietly, "No thanks is necessary, Shadra . . . just cook my meals." Colwyn's smirk turns into a shit-eating grin when Shahaadra laughs lightly, the blush of a moment before fading completely.
Shahaadra's laughter becomes a chuckle as he feels some of the exhaustion lift from his shoulders to be replaced by simple tiredness, the emotional baggage seeming a little less important in the humor of the moment.
'How can he make me feel so alive, this fox who was a stranger only an hour ago? I feel lighter just by being with him.'
"Well, in that case, the thanks is entirely unnecessary but given anyway."
Colwyn nods at the almost pleading seriousness in Shahaadra's eyes and voice, his need to somehow make his gratitude known coloring his actions.
"Accepted . . . Now, you should get to sleep. I think I'm going to call it a night as well."
Truly feeling hopeful for the second time that night despite everything, Shahaadra smiles again, nods, and lifts up the sheets to slide underneath. The leather of the couch makes the unique shifting sounds that Shahaadra has always liked about leather.
Colwyn gets out of the chair and picks up both the discarded clothes and the abandoned mugs as he watches Shahaadra getting comfortable. Turning around he heads to the kitchen, intent on dropping off the undrunk coffee so that he can get to bed as well.
As he listens to Colwyn's leaving the room, Shahaadra finds his eyes drooping again, all the tension of the day quickly bearing him into the oblivion of a deep, healing sleep.
When Colwyn returns to the living area, he looks to the couch and notices that Shahaadra's eyes are already closed, his face relaxed and smooth in sleep. He smiles to himself and quietly pads to the bathroom to prepare for bed, dropping off the panther's clothes on top of the pile in the hamper there. Preparing for sleep quickly, Colwyn moves again through the living room and enters his bedchamber. After stripping and climbing under the covers, he, like Shahaadra, easily drifts into slumber.
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Notes:
* This comment refers to the legal age of prostitutes, that being 16 (Don't hit me! *cowers* Different culture, different mores and values.)
** In this context, 'pissed' refers to being 'drunk out of your mind.' ;-)
*** C-nip, short for Catnip, a very obviously powerful drug for those of the felidae family.
**** The religious beliefs of the majority very loosely revolve around the belief in the existence of spirits who exist around everyone in their daily lives. A common exclamation (or expletive, depending upon the one to whom one speaks) is 'Spirits!'
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Tell me what you think - suggestions are always welcome. I admit that I'm a slow writer and I've only just started the next few chapters, so that means that it'll be a while before I update, but it also means that any really good ideas have a chance of being used in the storyline (understand, I'll list the name of anyone whose idea I use).
I want "Revival" to be a loooong tale, but I'll need Your help to keep me on top of it, so please send me your thoughts.
TBC . . .