Who wants to marry a macro stud? part 3
#3 of who wants to marry a macro stud?
Lance walked with a great weight upon his shoulders. Apologising, finding the words to express how truly meaningful Darryl had made every moment.
These were just the starting thoughts of his trepidition as he entered the elevator with the little striped fox curiously looking up from his place at the unicorns' side.
Wisely, the vulpine said nothing as Lance sorted his thoughts and pruned them for all the precious words and love he desired more than anything in the world to convey to his injured love and dearest of mates.
Not so long ago, they had shared a starlit night together on the beach, water sucking on their feet as light twinkled in diamond-like splendor. It was the beautiful natural times such as those which made the unicorn regret any nasty things he could have said or did.
"I need to forget." Lance declared, his saphire eyes heavy with grief.
He found his finger drawing close to the button for the top floor of the hotel and pushed it.
"Can I come?" Foxie whispered.
Lance steeled himself in such a serious pained manner as he looked down at the vulpine, unable to believe that the little fox was trying to intrude in his personal life. "Can you take away all this hurt inside of me?" He sneered, tears starting down his downy white cheekbones.
"Can you?"
It was such a direct question, Lance stopped, dumbfounded.
Above, the long bass of the music thumped on the walls like an angry giant as Lance closed his eyes and lost himself in the music. The lyrics from the song "Fly Away" by 4 strings entered his mind if only to briefly tease him with his previous bliss.
And then the doors opened, and the unfiltered sound flooded his ears like the thunderclaps of a Summer storm. The powerful beats almost threatened to smash him back with a wall of sound. It was amazing, rapture, glory...
Loneliness.
He fell to his knees and began to cry, a useless pile of horseflesh as the fox watched nearby with concern in his eyes.
It was pointless to be here!
There was no more love or joy in the world of music; without a partner to dance with, this was a world of derelict emptiness.
"Come on, Lance...let's go...they're all staring at you..." Foxie declared, trying vainly to lift up the giant equine with his small body.
"And I don't care! My world is empty without him!"
He was too busy with his pain, that he barely saw some unknown figure cut a swath through the crowded patrons. If it was Alice, he would surely ram his horn in the liars' throat as if a dagger!...
But instead came the dog--the security guard who humiliated him the other night and started this whole mess.
"What's the problem here?" He asked in such an obvious stupid way as if he were blind.
Lance droned them out as he focused on the music; wrapping the words and rhythm of it about him like a grieving dirge played at a funeral.
"My friend isn't feeling well. I'm trying to get him back to his--my room. Could you just keep everyone out of the way as I guide him back into the elevator?"
It should have been easy. Should have been the simplest task in the world; get a friend into an elevator only eight feet away.
But it was nearly impossible with his muscles, and Lance Alot's bulk. It would have been mission impossible if a few of the random dancers didn't volunteer to help get the grieving fool into the lift and back to his senses.
While Foxie was grateful his room was nearby the elevator, he didn't not relish the task of exhausting himself nearly to death just to get the sad sack of 'corn into his room.
Lance shook his withers as the music left his ears in a fading echo until it finally left him as if a butterfly floating away.
The scene that greeted him was almost disturbing; he was in someone else's room. Now that it happened twice already, he wondered if that was some sort of odd chance of fate.
"Yeah. It was fate that I'd meet an asshole who'd wreck my relationship with my beloved." He scowled as quietly as he could.
But clasped a hand over his muzzle when he realized he wasn't alone...
In fact...
"SURPRISE!!!"
He was far from alone as the room erupted with that same unanimous cheer. It was probably a mistake to meditate on his pain and ignore everything around him.
"What...what time is it?" Lance asked, looking at two dozen or so fuzzy faces of different smaller furries, mostly vulpines and wolves.
"Time for YIFFING!" They unanimously declared.
That sounded somewhat familiar, but not at all appropriate for a chaste unicorn. "I...Wait...What?!!" Lance stammered out, crawling towards the door and realized he had been blocked off by two of them.
"No yiffing today, thank you. I'm devoted to someone else." He declared, even as they pushed and pulled him rudely toward a couch in the ad hoc livingroom; a VCR paused with one blurred image on the screen.
As he was herded closer, He finally realized it was him. It was one of the early episodes of "The Yiffing Girl."
And he shuddered as it finally crashed down on him--the couch couldn't sink him lower if it tried. He had blown up on his mate for being unfaithful once, where early in his career, he was far from pure or celibate. It didn't matter if he had done that before meeting Darryl, it was out in the open and written across his heart like a brand; Lance was just as dirty as he accused his mate of being.
When that violent truth wrenched into his being like a spear through his still-beating heart, his only recourse, his only choice was to apologise and go begging back unto Darryl as undignified as possible until the human saw into his sincerity.
But he could not leave; no, not yet. That would be too light a punishment. Foxie wanted to revisit his hell over and over with what he and his friends dubbed 'Lance Alot Appreciation Night'.
Instead, he sat and watched his feats of rape and infidelity with Darryl glimmering gloriously in his mind like a candle shaded from the wind.