Boom! Heartshot
I wrote this while taking a break from All's Fair, between the hours of 3:16 am and 11:47 pm.
Warning: The characters are gay, and the story contains a little sexually explicit material. Counter-Warning: Said material is more of an aside, rather than anything anyone would get off to, so this isn't really a 'yiff story', per se.
Another warning: from a technical standpoint, this is kind of abysmal. I drastically overuse names, pronouns, and titles, the character voices are spotty, the characters themselves are abrupt, the plot is jumpy and sappy and predictable, the presentation is formulaic, there is almost more flashback than story, and I break the fourth wall so badly it might never get repaired. So why post at all if it's so awful? Because I like it anyway , and I want to know if others do too. Sometimes it's nice to write a happy ending.
I have a 3D Google Sketchup model of the house up at http://sketchup.google.com/3dwarehouse/details?mid=12ae1f93856a3578e26d8ce0200024fe&ct=mdsa, if you're interested.
By all means tell me what you think, whether it's good, bad, or indifferent. Thanks! Also, here's to uber-long forewords!
- Xi
Boom! Heartshot
or
The Prince and the Pauper
The tall, silver-furred bear softly opened the door just barely enough to admit himself and a single, tiny gust of frost-laden wind before shutting it just as softly. He - ah, but who is 'he'? Well, he was a young grizzly bear, quite lean for his kind, who looked to be in his early twenties - twenty-two to be precise, though in truth he would not even turn twenty-one for another three days. He had striking, glossy fur in every shade of silver from dark chrome on his muscular back and shoulders to near-white on his lower belly; it was a relic of his grandfather, a kindly old fox whom no one had known even could pass his recessive fur to a grandchild, and a bear at that. It was the only thing from his family that the bear cherished, or cared to brag about. His name was Lake, and almost everyone knew him as Mr. Forrest, but he always thought of himself as Ice, because that was what his boyfriend called him.
Yes, yes, but who is he? you ask, impatient already with the tale; and who is this boyfriend? and why should we care?
Well... he was a lot of things. He was a genius, educated at the finest schools, and by the finest tutors, that money could buy. Why, when he was only fourteen he started his first business, in the copper industry, and developed a new way of mining it that could have made him even richer than he was becoming already if he'd not condemned it as "artless" and had the only working prototype destroyed. When he was only a day older than sixteen he'd taken his parents to court and won full ownership of his business, emancipation, and a ten-million-dollar settlement to boot. He'd since turned that kind of money into pocket change.
He was flawless at everything he tried. He picked up professions the way others picked up coins on the street. He was a celebrity. Everyone fawned on him, hoping for a piece of his glory, and sometimes he tossed a little bit out to them, just to watch them grovel at his feet to lap it up. He spent his money with a carefree contempt that lost him millions upon millions and occasionally made him billions more. Small children loved him, older children feared him, teenagers wanted to be him, and all their parents hated him. He didn't care.
But, as he would be the first to tell you, this story isn't about him. It's about that boyfriend I mentioned, a lion of nineteen, poor, not terribly good in school, whose parents had had no choice but to send him off as soon as he turned eighteen without a penny to his name, to find his own way.
He found it to a dank little pub in the seedier part of town, exposing himself night after night to crowd after crowd of leering, drunken, faceless men and women who'd touched him, stuck little crumpled bills adorned with the faces of dead men into the string around his waist.
Until, one night, a silver bear in a white suit worth more than the entire pub had climbed onto the tiny 'stage' with the naked lion and coldly, imperiously offered twenty-one billion, three hundred thirty-five million, eighteen thousand twenty-eight dollars and forty-six cents if he would come to a house where he would see no one, speak to no one, write to no one, and dance for no one but the bear for a single year.
He accepted. What else could he do?
The bear had taken off his jacket and handed it to the lion, careful not to so much as brush paws, and ordered him to leave his other clothes there. The jacket had been soft, too big, long enough to cover him, and short enough to show that it was the only thing covering him. The bear had led him, blushing, into the street, had called a cab to the most expensive hotel in the city, had marched him straight through the center of the bright, crowded lobby to the elevator, had taken it to an empty suite on the top floor. Then he'd been told to shower for over an hour while the bear watched, until his skin was raw. The bear had not introduced himself, had not mentioned that he was the Lake Forrest, had not said anything, in fact, except to scrub harder, wash this part over, he'd missed a spot there.
The lion had obeyed. What else could he do?
Only afterwards had the bear asked his name: Jamie Archilègo. Only after that had he introduced himself, as simply Lake. That had been the first time that, under his breath, Jamie said he was "more like ice than water."
Then Ice had left, locking the door behind him, and had only come back three days later to take Jamie to this house. It was smaller than he could have made it, plainer, yet beautiful, perched on a cliff with a stunning view of the ocean, paint still drying on the walls, enormous semi-landscaped grounds - and a ten-foot wall along the border. The house had not existed three days earlier.
And that was why Ice was now so careful opening the door: he didn't want the chill morning wind to wake his sleeping dancer.
The bedroom was not far, just past the kitchen and living room. Ice made his way hesitantly across the hardwood and peeked in through the open doorway. A small, blissful smile touched his lips when he saw his lion sprawled on the bed, golden mane spread over the snow-white pillows and shining in the bright sunlight. The entire house boasted enormous, shutterless windows, their blatant disregard for privacy emphasizing its absolute isolation.
He caressed one cheek, almost too lightly to be felt. "Good morning, beautiful," he whispered.
Jamie opened his bright blue eyes, saw Ice, and smiled heartwrenchingly. "You're back," he answered.
"You know I can't stay away long," Ice replied, getting under the single sheet but studiously avoiding physical contact while his clothes warmed. The lion promptly eliminated that consideration by pushing the bear to his back and straddling him, resting his forearms on Ice's chest to prop himself up. Except for a slight shiver and a sudden swelling in both their groins, neither commented.
"You used to," Jamie teased instead. "It used to be exactly one hour a week, to the minute. You'd come, you'd watch, you'd leave. Sometimes you'd skip; once I went a whole month with nothing but the birds for company, and then you came back acting like nothing hap -"
"Yeah, yeah," Ice interrupted, laughing at Jamie's fake pout and resting his paws on the lion's hips. "I'm a mean, curmudgeonly old slave driver who's too weak these days to even abuse my victims properly." He lifted his head and licked is boyfriend's nose playfully before extricating himself from under him. "Now I'll go get breakfast started while you bemoan your sad, sorry fate."
Perhaps a minute after he left the bear heard a roar from the other room. He jumped, startled, but didn't have to wait long for an explanation. A few seconds later Jamie strolled out, still panting and holding himself while white seed stained his chest and belly and dripped from his tip.
"Good Lord," Ice laughed while the lion swaggered over with a decidedly unapologetic grin on his muzzle, "you got that out in, what, thirty seconds flat?"
"It's easy," Jamie replied, sitting right up on the counter between the bear and the sink and starting to wash himself. "All I have to do is remember you're here again and - boom! headshot." He grinned. "Don't worry; I could go again right away right away if you wanted."
Ice gazed back at his lion, his paws moving without him to soft boiled some eggs while bread fried on the other burner. "Heartshot," he murmured, his voice betraying none of the worship in his eyes.
Then he shook himself. "There is a bathroom for that, you know," he said tartly.
"Sure, but you like to watch." Jamie chuckled and glanced pointedly down at the significant bulge in the bear's pants. "You sure I can't get you to do more?"
"You know I won't," Ice answered, pulling a small cross from under shirt and displaying it.
"That's just not fair, you know. I've never even seen you."
"You poor thing."
"Bet you're tiny."
"I am not!"
Jamie laughed, and Ice leaned over and up to silence him with a kiss. They parted a moment later, slightly out of breath. "Well... maybe not," the lion relented. "But I wish that whole bloody 'no sex before marriage' deal had been left out. I tell you what, your God is making me one frustrated little kitty."
"One frustrated, stunning, horny little kitty," Ice laughed, lightly kissing the underside of Jamie's muzzle. "Anyway, breakfast is ready."
The first ten or fifteen minutes of the meal were always quiet, as neither had a small appetite. The eggs were followed by hot cereal, then by tangelos before Ice swallowed, bit his lip, and spoke, nervously fingering something in his pocket.
"Although, there's a reasonably simple solution." While Jamie tilted his head curiously, the silver bear moved around the table, pulled a small black velvet box from his pocket, and knelt at his dancer's feet.
"Will you marry me?" Ice asked, trying to pour all the love he'd felt since the day he'd met this incredible person into those four simple words. He opened the box to reveal a ring, white gold with diamonds.
The lion's eyes went wide as saucers, and he slid out of his seat to kneel in front of the bear. He touched the box for a moment, almost afraid it would vanish, then moved to the paws holding it. "Yes," he whispered, holding those paws to his chest.
The word quivered in the air for a moment, then Ice flung his arms around his boyfriend and pulled him into the most passionate kiss he'd ever allowed himself. Jamie growled with pleasure and returned it with interest.
Some time later the pair separated again, gazing at each other. Both started to speak, then stopped, knowing that words would have been superfluous.
Eventually, by mutual accord, they stood and walked side by side into the living room and turned to look out at the ocean. "So when can we do it?" Jamie asked at length, resting his head on the bear's shoulder.
"I'd hoped we could do it three days from now, if that's all right. Otherwise, it could be ready any time past an hour from now."
"No, three days would be wonderful." He took a breath. "Can... can I invite my parents?"
He needn't have worried. "Of course. This can be as big or as small as you want it to be, love." Now it was the bear's turn to hesitate. "That is also the last day of our agreement. When it's over, where would you like to go?"
The lion blinked. Had it really been a whole year? He'd stopped keeping track, somewhere. "Oh. I... couldn't we just live here?"
Ice looked at him, startled. "Wha - yes, certainly. I just - thought you'd hate this place."
"I thought I would, too, when I got here," Jamie responded softly after a pause, still looking out over the water. "But... you've given me everything I ever wanted here. Hell, if I asked for Italian food you'd fly in chefs and ingredients so I'd eat fresh. It - it's not a prison, anymore. Plus -" here he stopped to turn and lick the bear's cheek. "- I fell in love here... So once I can have visitors again, maybe go on vacation sometimes, why would I ever want to live anywhere else?"
Ice stared at his boyfriend, then suddenly pulled him into a tight embrace. "God I love you," he whispered into the lion's mane. Jamie just hugged him back until the bear let go. "So," Ice said in a lighter voice, sliding open the glass wall to the deck, "w-would you maybe like to dance with me, instead of for me, this time?"
A slow, ecstatic grin spread across Jamie's muzzle. "Just let me get some clothes so I don't freeze," he said and rushed to the bedroom.
Ice smiled after him, then sighed and walked slowly to the kitchen. Now was as good a time as any, he supposed. Pushing one thumb into the wall next to the front door, a section popped out to reveal a small, hidden chamber. Inside were two two-by-three-inch photographs and two solid-gold-and-ruby rings. He took the rings out, shut the compartment, and meandered out to the deck, thinking.
He had been seventeen, fey, free, just coming into the prime of his wealth and talent. She had been an intelligent, charming, attractive young Irish setter. He'd fallen for her, wooed her, bought her anything she wanted, catered to every demand she made. He'd stretched forth his paw and bent the law to marry her at seventeen, had halved his wealth with her, had fathered twins on her. And only then had he found out that she'd lied every time she said she loved him.
Their divorce had been swift, public, and final. He had not seen her since.
That was near three years ago. He kept tabs on the twins; those were the two photographs. Their names were Rain and Cloud. The marriage had been so short that the court denied even visitation rights to his then-unborn children.
He still intended to contact them, when they were older - if for no other reason than to make sure they were okay and close that breach. But he'd had no way to plan how, or even if, he'd be able to do the same for the rent in his heart that their mother's betrayal had torn open.
Jamie had done that for the bear, forced him to first see that beauty in another person once again; then, slowly, forced him to admit to himself that he loved his dancer more than anything in the world. And now Jamie had helped him take the last step, into trusting and committing to it one more time.
Ice suddenly shook his head. Here he was maundering about an old marriage when he had an impossibly gorgeous lion just stepping out of the bedroom. He took one last look at the rings in his paw, then tossed them lightly over the cliff, far enough out that the tide would catch them at the bottom, and turned back towards the house.
His mouth dropped open as the lion stepped shyly onto the deck. He'd elected to wear a pair of socks to keep his feet warm - and one too-big white suit jacket. "H-how do I look?" he asked nervously, blushing.
The bear didn't answer, per se. Instead he walked slowly over and bowed formally. Catching on, Jamie bowed back. "May I have this dance?" he asked.
The silver bear smiled euphorically and nodded. Because, after all, what else he could do?
Then billionaire Ice Lake Forrest gently took his fiancé's waist in on arm and his outstretched paw in the other and they started revolving slowly on the spot. "I must be the happiest man alive," he whispered wonderingly into that golden mane.
His dancer smiled in absolute contentment. "Only if there's room on the podium for two."