Remember Me?
Remember Me?
...by Kanga Liu
"Welcome to Cherry Street Café. What can I get for you?" asked the cashier on the other side of the counter. I looked up to see a tall, skinny coyote smiling back at me. My eyes then traveled to his nose piercing, a single silver ball sticking out from the left side of his snout, which was something I never saw on males before. Maybe it was a new trend. It did look good on him... definitely something I couldn't pull off. My face was way too masculine for something like that, whereas this coyote had a rather effeminate face with very soft, girly features. Like the way his long eyelashes curled at the tips, and the very narrow frame of his muzzle made him look pretty instead of handsome; if I hadn't known any better, I would have thought he was a very tall, lanky, gray-furred fox.
"A venti caramel macchiato with an extra shot of espresso and room, please..." I said, returning my gaze back to the e-mails popping up from the screen of my Blackberry. "And make sure you use soy milk, too. The last guy here couldn't get that right, and I ended up going to the hospital because I was throwing up every thirty seconds. Don't make the same mistake. Just ask the damn idiot who nearly poisoned me and he'll advise the same... If your boss even allows his ass to ever come back in this café, that is." The vibration I felt from my phone indicated that I just received a text message. Checking it, I saw that it was from Harris. Apparently he needed to borrow my accounting notes for the midterm in two weeks. Fat chance. I didn't even like the guy.
"Would that be all for you today?" said the coyote as he punched my order into the cash register.
"Well, a hug and a kiss wouldn't hurt," I said, typing up a lie about my notes being lost back to Harris. After sending the text message, I looked up to see a stunned expression plastered onto the poor coyote's face. "Lighten up, dude, it was just a joke."
"Oh... right," was all the canine said, his cheeks flushed a bright rouge color and showed easily through his light gray facial fur as I handed my credit card to him. He swiped it, gave it back to me with a copy of my receipt, and told me the wait would be about five minutes. Just as I started to walk away and wait at the other end of the room, I suddenly heard the coyote say, "You... really don't recognize me, do you?"
Those words made my ears twitch and I glanced back at the lanky creature, but this time I stared at him hard. I looked him up and down, my brain working furiously to come up with a name that matched the face I was looking at. I took in every detail of the coyote staring back at me, from his narrow snout to his white-tipped ears. From his ice-blue, round, saucer-shaped eyes to the patch of white fur around his neck. From his silky, light-gray fur that covered him from head to toe to the black king's crown tattoo etched onto his left wrist... which I found to be quite appealing for some reason.
I cocked my head to side and raised an eyebrow at him. Did I even know this guy? Apparently, my confusion was more obvious than the gravity holding me down to Earth because the gray coyote in the apron just sighed, clearly disappointed. "I'll have your coffee ready for you... and maybe it wouldn't hurt to talk to you for a minute. Would it? If... you're not busy, you know."
I stood there, almost as if I didn't hear the question. I wanted to tell the poor guy that I was in a rush... which wasn't a lie. I had work in about twenty minutes, and it was located about a good three bus stops away from here. If I was going to make it on time, I would have to book it to the nearest bus stop the minute I got my coffee. And plus, for all I knew, this guy was a complete stranger. He obviously had the wrong guy, because I couldn't recognize him--and I am pretty damn good at remembering other furs' faces, if I do say so myself. Unfortunately, the coyote took my silence as a "yes," because he just smiled back at me, and gave me a quick wink before turning around and disappearing into the back kitchen.
Waiting in place, not entirely sure of what just happened, my mind slipped back to the coyote's face... and that shiny, silver piercing on his nose. As quirky and strange as the coyote appeared to be, I had to admit: he was really cute.
***
Once the mysterious coyote came back out and handed me my drink, we walked over to a secluded table in one of the far back corners of the café and took a seat opposite from each other. For some odd reason, the place was entirely empty. Not a single other inhabitant was with us in this place. It was literally just the two of us.
Alone.
As we sat down, I could hear the strong wind outside whistling through the cracks around the enormous window beside us. Looking out, I saw that the day had become more dreary and gray than it was five minutes ago when I had stepped into this café. Checking the time on my phone, I realized that I was going to be a good ten minutes late if I didn't get up and leave now... which my brain was practically demanding me to do, but my body resisted. For some reason, I could not get up and leave this stranger behind. Some part inside of me wanted to stay seated and find out who this canid was. I guess this was more important to me than work, as well as more interesting. Much more interesting than filing away interview records of alcoholics and drug addicts, without a doubt.
"Mmmm," I murred after taking a sip of my coffee. "This tastes great."
"Thanks," he said, ears flat against the back of his head and cheeks turning that bright shade of red again. "I actually just started this job a few days ago, so I'm pretty new to the art of making coffee."
"Could've fooled me," I said, smiling at him. I wanted him to feel more comfortable with me so that maybe he could just tell me who he was and get this over with. Or maybe... I was kind of hoping he would be comfortable enough to spend more time with me. Whatever it was that I wanted, I set aside my coffee and interlaced my fingers together in front of me on the tabletop. "So, I don't recognize you, huh? Are you sure you even recognize me?"
"If you're not Aaron Kay, then I apologize," he said, paying especially close attention to a speck of dirt stained on the center of the tabletop. "Huskies tend to be hard for me to tell apart. Especially the Alaskan ones." The two of us, then, just stared at each other for a moment, letting the words float around in the air between us. "I'm sorry! I hope that wasn't offensive!" he quickly added. Man, was this guy nervous. I could see the sweat glistening through the fur on his forehead.
I sat in place, a little taken aback. "Well, I'm glad that you can tell that I'm Alaskan... but what I really wanna know is... how did you know my name?"
At this, the coyote let a long relieved sigh. "I was actually a little worried that it might not have been you."
"That's nice," I said, leaning back in my chair. "I'll let you explain how you feel before answering my question. No pressure."
The coyote sheepishly looked away from me and back at the speck of dirt of the table. Rolling my eyes, I wiped it away with the sleeve of my coat. With nothing else to look at other than my face, the coyote averted his attention back to me. "Well," he started, a little cautiously--almost as if he was afraid that I was going to punch him in the face or something. "We did go to the same high school together."
That surprised me. "Really?" I asked, leaning across the table to examine his face closely. The coyote nervously tried scooting away, but I had him by the collar of his t-shirt before he could evade me--our snouts only a few whiskers apart. "I can't believe it. I remember everyone from high school. I was the school's vice-president. Were you at McTownsend for only a while and then move during the middle of the year? Because I might be able to recall you if you at least tell me what classes we had together."
"We... had biology together," he said, trying his best to not breathe too hard into my mouth which was only a few centimeters away from his. "And astronomy... and AP Spanish... and pre-calculus... and calculus... and AP calculus..."
"We... had that many classes together?" I asked in disbelief. I shook my head as I let go of his t-shirt and leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms. "All I can say is... sorry. I really don't remember you. I can't remember you for some reason."
"Well, I did lose a couple of pounds over the years," he said, patting his flat stomach. He, then, smiled at me... a smile that flashed me back in time. I knew who that smile belonged to. I knew someone who had that crooked smile, slanted slightly to the right and lips that pursed out a little bit like the way this coyote was doing right now.
That's when it hit me, like a meteorite falling from space at a hundred miles-per-hour. I suddenly forgot how to swallow and felt the air slowly seep out of my lungs. I sure hope he wasn't implying what I think he was. It may have been a farfetched guess, but I felt that I needed to have it either confirmed or denied. After taking a deep breath, I threw it out into the open: "Brett?"
The coyote just sat there, but I caught a smile start to widen across his muzzle. At this point, I just wanted to get up, run out of the café, and never look back... or come back ever again. But my body was being very disobedient today, because--once again--it refused to do what my brain was commanding it to do. I could literally hear my brain scream, "Get the fuck up and run! Get the hell out of here! NOW!!! It's fucking Brett_!"_ But, my body just stayed put. I felt like a gargoyle with a brain and a set of eyes, just looking back at the coyote I once had a very bad past with.
The coyote I thought I would never see again.
"Brett Dinnersfeld," I said, just to make sure I was talking to the right guy. Not some other Brett... which was a pathetic chance, I know, but a slight possibility nonetheless.
"You... actually remembered my name," he said, the confidence rising in his voice. He jumped in his seat excitedly and I rolled my eyes toward the heavens that have cursed me today. "It's been so long. I mean, look at you!"
I nodded, pretending to accept the compliment. "I should say the same to you." I took a long drink from my coffee before continuing with the conversation. Maybe I could finish this quickly and get the hell out of here. "You've lost... I mean..." I scrambled for the right words to describe what I was looking at. "You... you must have... you must have lost... like... a hundred... ummm..." I let out a deep breath, trying my best to appear relaxed. "You look great."
I wasn't lying. He did look great. So great compared to the last time I saw him back in senior year of high school.
"Thanks," he said, lowering his gaze bashfully. "Ever since I graduated from McTownsend, I felt that I needed some change. So I started swimming and running a mile every day. Still do. And I've never felt better."
"You should write a book for fat people," I said, checking the time on my phone. I was officially twenty minutes late for work. I'm gonna have to call my boss once I get out. "Seriously. You're a television series waiting to happen. It could be called From Morbidly Obese to 100 Tons Lighter. Your diet will be the hottest topic on Daily Fur You. I mean, you could probably help Bear-O Collins be skinny."
At first, Brett just stared at me with eyes that could feed a family of eight, but after a few deadly, silently awkward seconds passed, he let out a series of thunderous, high-pitched laughter. Putting my Blackberry back into my coat pocket, I looked at him. Confused. Did he really just take my rude comment as a joke?
After a while, he stopped laughing. Gasping for air as if he had just been holding his breath underwater for hours, he gazed at me in a way that made me choke back my spit. He batted his unusually long eyelashes, which made me feel as if my insides were melting. A few deep gasps later, he was ready to speak again. "Wow, you still compare me to Bear-O Collins? The super fat comedian? It's so hard to believe that... you're still the same. After all these years, you still haven't changed."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Excuse me?"
"Same Aaron," he said, looking at me almost as if he was admiring me. "Same old Aaron Kay, mean as always. I thought people might have changed since high school, but you seem to prove that wrong, Aaron." My eyes remained narrow, daring him to go on. He just stared back at me, almost as if he was amused with where this was going. "I thought maybe you might have grown up a little, and look past the coyote I used to be in high school and see me as a whole new fur. I thought maybe I could be nice to you and be friends... you know..." His voice lowered to an almost inaudible tone. "... something I always wanted to be."
I felt the sound of cars outside fill the space that words could be occupying between us, but the two of us remained silent. My ears fell flat against my skull. The words may have been quiet in volume, but the impact of those words hit me like nothing has ever hurt me before. It almost felt as if a wave had just crashed into me, leaving me breathless and unconscious underwater. I had never... ever... ever thought of Brett as someone who wanted me to like him. Sure, I knew that he wanted me to stop treating him bad back in high school, but never have I considered that maybe he wanted me to be his friend. Never have I even considered Brett a living, breathing animal... with feelings... and the ability to cry. Actually, I should know that he is completely capable of crying. I saw him cry all the time.
I made him cry all the time.
I was in such a stunned state that I didn't even realize that I was still on Earth, sitting across from a guy I tormented every day in school.
"Well, that was fun," Brett said, getting up from his chair. Obviously done talking with me. "It's always nice to catch up with people. Anyways, I gotta get back to work."
Before he could turn away... before I knew what I was doing, I grabbed hold of his wrist. The one with the crown tattoo. The second he turned around to face me, I felt the tears start to trickle down my cheekbones and drip to the floor from my chin. I honestly had no idea what was going on with me, but I suddenly had this need to make it up to him. Everything up to him. I just wanted to hold his hand and take him back to the past in a time machine... and show him that I did change. That I did grow up. That I am different now, and nicer, and better. I wanted to show him that I did want to be his friend back then, and that I only did those things because I felt so insecure about myself... and felt that I always needed to prove to everybody that I was someone they thought was cool. I... just wanted to be liked.
I didn't... want to be the school's faggot.
But I knew that I couldn't go back in time with him. I knew that I couldn't change the things I have done to him in the past. I couldn't take back those times when I tripped him in class. I couldn't take back those times when I tossed his untouched lunch in the trash. I couldn't take back that awful prank I pulled on him, when I filled his car with dead fish that my friends and I had bought from Pike's Market. No, I couldn't. I couldn't take back any of the names I called him, the pain and damage I've daubed on him, the harassing jokes I made about him--none of those things could be rewound and undone. Sadly, what's past is past. And there was nothing that I or anybody or anything in this world... on this planet... can do to change that.
But, at that moment, with his wrist in my grip, I had an idea. Even though time travel was still yet to be invented, there was another way I could show how much I regret the things I have done to him in the past. Without even a second longer to reason with myself or rationalize about the actions I was about to make, I pulled him close... in a rough embrace...
... and softly met his muzzle with mine.
For a moment, time stopped... and I forgot the reason why the past, or the present, or the future even mattered, anymore. For a moment, it was just me and him. Aaron and Brett. Holding each other and making sure the other felt safe and warm from all of the chaos and cruelty this sad, terrible world was capable of creating. For a moment, I was a different Aaron, and he was a different Brett... two lonely people who have suddenly found each other after years and years of hard searching.
I can't believe it took me this long to realize that what I've always needed wasn't the popularity or the approval of the furs around me (furs who don't even matter in my life anymore), but this coyote who was right in front of my nose the entire time.
As much as I wanted this kiss to go on, the moment had to end. Slowly, our muzzles parted away from each other and we locked eyes. Judging from the smile slowly creeping across his muzzle, Brett was just as surprised by this unexpected gesture as I was.
"Let's not do this out here," he said. His voice was smooth and soft like butter. "Someone could walk in on us. Like my boss." He giggled at the thought. Such a cute giggle I never heard before, almost like I was tasting sugar for the first time.
Before I could understand what he was implying, Brett had me by the collar of my jacket and led me behind the coffee counter and toward the entrance to the back kitchen. I gulped the excess saliva in my mouth, too excited to think of any of the million rational reasons why we should not continue with what we were doing.
Once inside the kitchen, Brett locked the door and turned off the fluorescent lights dangling from the ceiling. The only source of light now came from a tiny window of a nearby wall a few good feet above our heads, so no one could watch us even if they tried. As soon as he was done inspecting the kitchen and saw that no one else was in the room with us, he untied his apron and threw it over his shoulder. Right when he was pulling off his t-shirt, I found my voice again.
"Wait, what if someone comes in to order some coffee?" I asked. My voice crackled a little because my throat was now starting to turn dry. It's funny how my mouth was making too much saliva a moment ago and then make none a second later.
Brett just looked at me, with those humongous, half-lidded eyes. I can't believe I never noticed how beautiful his eyes were in high school. "Don't worry. We'll hear the bell when someone comes in. I'll just change real quick and go out, but I doubt that'll happen." He slowly made his way toward me, his hips playfully swaying from side to side.
"Why's that?" I asked, backed up against the counter.
Brett practically ripped my coat off and started unraveling the thick black scarf wrapped around my neck. Probably best that he did, because my body was already heating up and slick with warm, musky sweat. As he did this, he put his muzzle close to the side of my face and whispered, "Because it's Monday." With a quick nibble on the tip of my ear, he pulled his face away and dove in for another kiss.
As our tongues wrestled around, the two of us pulled our pants off and, a second later, our underwear were gone, too. When removing my t-shirt, we had to break up our kiss to pull it over my head, but the minute we tossed it aside, we were exploring the inside of each other's muzzle again. Holding each other tightly, our claws practically dug into each other's skin. The pain was pure pleasure.
Separating from our kiss again, I saw Brett stare deeply into my eyes... as if he wasn't sure if this was really happening. For a moment, I debated whether this was a dream, too.
"I always knew you were..." Brett started, but averted his gaze from me when he found that he was uncomfortable finishing the sentence.
I just nodded.
"Is that why you treated others so bad?" he asked, and I felt the fur on the back of my neck bristle out.
After a long silence, I decided to answer his question: "Yes." And that's all I had to say. Before I could even look away in shame, Brett knelt down to my waist and kissed the tip of my solid-hard member. I could feel juices oozing from it already, but Brett's tongue lapped it up like a good little coyote, and even started licking inside the slit. Looking down, I saw his giant, saucer-shaped eyes looking back up at me--watching my every expression. Begging me for approval to continue.
I smiled back down at him, and that's when I felt him take my whole cock deep into his mouth. The tip of my penis felt the soft muscles in the back of his throat and I held his head in place to keep it back there. Without struggling against me, Brett slid his tongue back and forth along the underside of shaft, sending jolts of ecstasy throughout my body. About a minute ago, I was on Cloud 9. Now, I was on Cloud 10.
After a while, I let go of his head so he could go at his own rhythm. Like a pro, he bobbed his head back and forth, and kept in-sync with my thrusts. Every time I bucked my hips forward, his muzzle always met me halfway. Time went by as I slid my penis in and out of his slick muzzle until I couldn't take it, anymore. I wanted to put it inside somewhere else.
"Lie back on this counter," I ordered as I pulled my entire 8-inch cock out of Brett's muzzle, patting a spot on the countertop behind me.
With a single wink, he got up and obeyed my command. Compliantly, he lied on his back on top of the counter and spread his legs wide. Between his legs, I stared at the full length of his hard-on jutting out proudly up at me and decided to use it for leverage. Wrapping my paw around his dick, I aimed mine at the right angle outside of his tailhole and roughly shoved the entire length of it inside. He let out a high-pitched shriek, but as soon as I started stroking my paw up and down along his shaft, his pained screams turned into soft moans of pleasure.
The rest of the time was spent with me thrusting in and out... in and out... in and out of his tight entrance while he lied on his back with his tongue lolling halfway out the side of his grinning muzzle... keeping his eyes on me the entire time. Each time I pushed into him, the muscles around his anus clenched tightly around my cock like a vice. My whole body felt as if it was edging toward a coma, and as each passing second inched by, everything started feeling less and less real, and more and more like a peaceful delusion. This was almost too good to be true.
Eventually, the knot around the base of my tool had grown to the size of an apple, and with every passing thrust, the closer I was to blowing up all over the place. However, I only wanted to blow up inside of the coyote crazy enough to be sharing the same room as me. After all I put him through, here he was now... lying on his back, letting me penetrate him. Letting me be the one on top of him.
Letting me fuck him.
The very thought had pushed me to my peak. Before I felt the first ounce of my load shoot out, I bent over him and bit into the side of his neck. Sinking my teeth deep into his skin, I squeezed my full-sized knot past his tight hole and let out a muffled growl as I exploded inside of his rectum. Buried all the way back to where his prostate was, I felt blasts of my cum spurt out of my pulsating cock in ferocious waves and every subsequent episode grew weaker and weaker.
After a while, my penis was drained dry and my warm doggy juices started to drip out of the edges of Brett's tailhole. As my mind regained a little bit of its consciousness back, I also felt a warm creamy liquid sticking to the fur of my stomach and chest. Judging from the hazy look on the face of the coyote lying beneath me, and his subsiding erection, Brett had reached his orgasm as well. I must have been too lost in my own climax to notice. Breathing hard, we both waited for about fifteen minutes for my knot to die out. Still gulping air as if I had just run a twenty-mile marathon, I lazily pulled my gun out of its holster and stood in front of him. Naked, sweaty, and sticky. That was it. It was over.
Just like that, I felt like being in a dream to being in a dark empty kitchen. Cold. In front of Brett Dinnersfeld. A kid I used to pick on. Even after making out, touching each other, penetrating him, and even cumming inside of him, I still couldn't believe any of this. I just couldn't believe what had just happened.
A few more quiet minutes went by, and Brett finally had the energy to get off from the counter and stand before me. Without saying a single word, he smiled at me. Not a cheesy kind of smile, but a smile without showing any teeth. A genuine smile. His crooked smile that I knew all too well, yet not too much at all.
"I always knew we'd be friends someday," he said, wrapping his arms around my neck.
For a while, we just stood there, gazing into each other's eyes, our softening penises brushing against each other. For just a while, I forgot that a new, skinnier, better-looking Brett was standing in front of me. Just from staring into those eyes, I recognized them. The eyes that always had tears in them. I recognized them now. And, for a second, I pictured the geeky, overweight Brett in front of me. The Brett I knew years ago.
And my vision became blurry as tears began to well up.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice radiating with concern. "Was... was it something that I did? You... you regret doing this with me, don't you? You hate me again."
"I... don't regret anything--" I said through clenched teeth, trying my best to keep myself under control. "--other than the way I treated you back then." At this point, the waterworks were just getting started. The tears were no longer under my control, but under my guilt's. As I continued to sob like a little pup with a scraped knee, I felt Brett pull me close... his chest pressed against mine. "I'm so, so, so, so sorry, Brett," I cried, my words somewhat muffled by the shoulder I was crying into. "You didn't deserve to be treated the way you were."
Brett just caressed the back of my neck, his muzzle close enough to my ear for me to hear every word he was whispering to me, "Aaron, it's okay. I forgive you. You have nothing to be sorry about. You only picked on me because you felt like you had to prove to other people you were normal."
"And that's the thing," I said as I lifted my face away from Brett's shoulder to look him square in the eye. "I wasn't. I was a fake. And... I should have been treated the same way."
"No," Brett said, no longer smiling. He had his eyes locked onto mine and said with as much firmness as he could, "You don't deserve to be treated the way I was. No one does. And as for being normal?" The smile started to form on Brett's face again, and his eyes twinkled like a million stars. "Who gets to decide what normal is? Right now, we're in each other's arms and not a single thing in this world can change the way we feel about each other." Brett, then, pushed his snout forward and rubbed it against mine--nuzzling me like no one ever has. Like the loving, caring, fragile person he always was. "If this isn't normal..." He lapped up a tear trickling down my cheek with his rough tongue. "Then I'm not so sure I give a damn if I am."
It took a while for me to register those words, but once I did, I smiled the biggest, brightest smile I have shown in a long time. It wasn't the fake smile I put on back when I was in high school, because I truly wasn't happy then. I wasn't happy, because I tried so hard to fit in... pretending to be something I was not: normal. Right now, I could feel this pure feeling of joy filling up my chest as I thought about the two of us together. It would be Aaron and Brett, two rebels who would be taking on this world.
Taking on the world together.
There have been no wiser words ever said to me than the ones that the coyote embracing me has just said. I can't believe I never had the heart to get the chance to know this wonderful, beautiful, refreshingly quirky side of him. And for once in my life, I saw a downside of fitting in with the crowd.