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­It was a few weeks before the winter holidays when I came across the first obstacle in trying to avoid them.

James decided it would be a good time to ask me a question when I had him halfway in my muzzle.

"Oh, I want you to come to my family's house for the holidays." I mournfully slid off his impressive tiger cock, ignoring the rivulets of spit and pre that stained the front of my muzzle and raised an eyebrow.

"Your family's house? You mean like in Connecticut?" I asked him, confusion easily and regrettably breaking the mood. I squeezed his pink shaft wistfully before sitting up to look him in the eyes. He was a pretty attractive white tiger, with just enough muscles to seem toned without being overly bulky. Just the kind of guy I like. I guess that's why I had snagged him in my bed first chance I got.

"No, Vermont," he said, looking cross that I hadn't bothered to remember where he was from. Like there was a huge difference between the two, anyway.

"So you want me to come to Vermont with you?" I was trying to understand where he was coming from and failing horribly. "Why?"

James squirmed and looked away in embarrassment. "I dunno," he said. "We're close, right?"

"Close," I repeated, getting up and sliding some boxers on. "I guess. We've been just about as close as two guys can get..." I trailed off at the memory of just how close before snapping back to reality. "But we're not together, James, you know that." I sighed as he started blushing. Biggest downside to having creamy white fur was that when you were flustered, it was easy to see.

"Well, I know that," he grumbled. "But, I dunno. We're close enough that it wouldn't be weird or anything, right?"

"I dunno," I said slowly. Everything about this spoke of a subtle undercurrent of hidden meanings, and I wasn't liking any of it. That weird little panic flight-or-fight mode started to kick in and I suddenly wanted to get out. As I stood up to get dressed, a thought occurred to me. "How exactly are you planning on introducing me? Your friend you sometimes fuck?"

"No!" he exclaimed, the blush back full force. I grinned, glad I could fluster him enough to keep the mood light and to take the pressure off myself. "Just. Y'know. A friend."

I sighed, pulling on my shirt. "I dunno James..."

"Well, Bethel, just think about it."

"Alright," I said, as I slid on my jacket.

"I'll be leaving soon," James called after me as I opened the door and closed it behind me.

I stepped outside to the cold Boston winter. Even with all of my brown-and-white Australian shepherd fur and a thick winter coat, I still shivered a bit. It always seemed to get colder and colder every year, and the thick flurry of snow that was falling down wasn't helping my mood at all. I started walking from James' house aimlessly, heading in the general direction of home. I wasn't too keen to head back there, either. Living alone, while it has it uses, can get...well, pretty lonely.

As I walked down the sidewalk, I glanced at the shops that lined the streets. The town was already decked out for the holidays. You know, the kind of gaudy display that's supposed to promote peace and good will towards your fellow peers and all the kind of homely nonsense I had fled from Georgia to escape.

Maybe I should backtrack a bit. When your family are the kind of people that name their son Bethlehem, like the biblical town, and then act all shocked and disappointed with their devoutly Christian-raised boy comes out -and what a big surprise!--togetherness and unity and good will your fellow person aren't really things at the forefront of your mind. I still get weekly calls from my mom telling me she prays every day that I would "see the light" or some nonsense.

So it's especially around the holidays that I just hate all the references to my name, and the witty observation that it's the same as the birthplace of a religious figure. Like I haven't heard that before.

Before I knew it I was already at my front door, shivering, and in an altogether worse mood. James's invitation threw off my entire holiday regimen of sucking as much cock as possible and drowning myself in as much alcohol as possible. James was a sweet guy--really--but I can't help but feel like if I accept his invitation I would be agreeing to a whole mess of unspoken things. I definitely wasn't looking for anything serious, at least for the time being.

I put my coat up at the door, looking around at my apartment. It was pretty sparsely decorated and always felt empty. I'm not one for home decoration, and it's not like I spend a huge amount of time here anyway. Just sleep and the occasional drunken, grope-y tumble. By then, they're too drunk and too horny to really care if the space is really ambient or not. And I guess that works for me too.

I flopped onto my bed and immediately curled up, too cold to do anything useful. I could make some coffee, but that sounds like it takes a little bit of effort. Instead, I curled up tighter and tried not to think about James and his question, and why it had bothered me so much. I mean, James seemed to have no problem in bringing in a very noticeably gay dog to a holiday dinner with his family.

I groaned, pressing my muzzle into the pillow, and tried not to think what it might or might not mean.

---

Roxy's is this chic little coffee store a street over from my apartment. It's where I go to unwind and attempt to drown myself in coffee that is black, black, black like the bottom of my soul. The baristas all knew me by name, and especially knew what mood I was in based on my coffee orders. Today was extra black, no sugar. I really wanted to taste like I was dying.

Just as I was contemplating leaving and going to find somewhere else to think and brood over the holiday season, Jodi -a collie, and the girl who makes the best lattes on this side of the country--sits down and gives me a stern look.

"What?" I asked, ears folding back in displeasure. She rolled her eyes and flicked my nose. I yelped in surprise as she started to stand up.

"Well," she said. "I was going to ask you how you were doing, and if you needed moral support. But now I think I'll go find someone else to shower with my compassion."

"Fine," I said, staring back at my coffee, swirling it around with a straw. I really wasn't in any mood for her games.

"Alright, now I'm curious. What's got you down, B?" Jodi sat back down and looked at me directly. I avoided her gaze.

"This guy asked me to go with him to meet his parents for the holidays," I grumbled.

"Oh honey," she said. "Oh sweetie. Can we pretend like you're not a twelve year old girl?"

"Can we pretend like you're not a bitch?" I snapped back at her, suddenly irritated. It's not like I barge in and insult her when she's upset over something.

"Alright, fine," she said, defeated. "So what is the big deal, anyway?"

"It's a lot to agree to."

"It's dinner!"

"With family."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Didn't you ever have anyone meet your family?"

I scoffed at that. "And subject them to another rousing attempt to pray the gay away?"

She gave me a look that said she clearly didn't believe me. I held up my paws in defense. "Crazy Bible thumping gay-bashers."

"Alright, alright," she said, waving her paw at me in dismissal. "So you think Christmas dinner is too much to agree to. Why are you really upset about this?"

I squirmed, trying to avoid saying it. I knew Jodi and I knew that if she was truly curious, I wouldn't be able to change the topic.

"I don't want him to get the wrong idea," I said. It was true; I didn't want him to think it was an invitation for anything beyond friends. I wasn't ready for commitment right now. Unless you call a weekly booty call a commitment. It wasn't the whole reason, though, and I could tell Jodi understood that.

"And the other reason you don't want to go?"

"Because...I've...ruined enough families," I said hesitantly. I went back to staring at my coffee and wishing desperately I had made the leap to drown myself in it.

"Ohh, I get it now," she said. I cringed, waiting for her jokes. "This guy isn't out to his parents, is he?"

I shrugged. I didn't really know. "I guess not."

"You're worried about messing him up and making him hate the holidays as much as you do." It wasn't a question, and I could tell Jodi knew she was right.

"In a sort of after-school special way, yeah," I mumbled sheepishly.

"You know," said Jodi. "Bethlehem was turned from a small nobody town into a beacon of hope. Maybe this guy wants you to be his beacon of hope over the holidays."

I rolled my eyes. "I can't believe you just said that. That is the cheesiest thing I have ever heard."

She glared at me, and I couldn't help but break a smile. "I'm going to pretend to hear you said 'romantic' instead."

"Sure," I said, downing the rest of my coffee. It had cooled down and just felt lukewarm and bitter. "Just like you're pretending not to be a bitch." I was glad the serious moment was over between us, and I ended up being pretty glad she had come over.

"But seriously, B. I know you hate the holidays, but do you really want to spend it alone?" My ears fell as I thought about it. No, I really didn't want to be alone. I knew that was my only option unless I went with James. Everyone else would be too busy with family or vacation and I would spend the time hating the holidays and hating myself.

"This guy--" Jodi started.

"--James--" I corrected.

"--James, then. This James guy seems to care about you enough to not want you to spend your holidays alone. No one should."

"But..." I started, ears folding back. She didn't understand, and it wasn't something I could relate to her. She didn't understand how lonely alienation was and how I wanted to avoid that for anyone else.

"Alright, B. Do whatever."

I slumped out of the shop, suddenly wanting nothing to do with it. If I wanted to be judged, I can go back to my cozy room and judge myself. It was the sort of ritual a guy like me could really appreciate.

My feet moved without really knowing where I was going. I passed by the shops again, even my apartment, and kept on moving sort of listlessly. My mind was somewhere else, back to those wistful times at home that seemed to be so golden.

I pretend sometimes like my excommunication from my family doesn't bother me. They made their choice to kick out their only son. I didn't want James to go through that, too. I might not like him like a boyfriend, but no one deserves what I've gone through.

But did I really want to be alone? Looking around, I could see all the couples around me. Clutching at each other, strolling down the street without a care in the world. I sighed heavily, my tail falling listlessly by my legs. I could always call someone in my book, but I doubt anyone would be up for anything more than a quick booty call...

"Hey, Bethel!"

I snapped up and saw James walking down in the other direction towards me. He was clutching some multicolored bags that probably had some Christmas gifts in them. He made his way over to me.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked.

"Walking," I said simply.

"Well, listen, I have to wrap these gifts before I leave. Did....uh...you think about my offer at all?" he asked. He looked too hopefully, and I sighed. Did he have to make this so hard?

"Look, James...I don't think..." I started.

James cut across me. "Hey, Bethel, listen. I'm not asking us to be boyfriends or nothing like that. Just...I know you'll be alone for the holidays..."

"That's not true!" I blushed in embarrassment and in slight anger.

"Oh?" he said, surprised. "What plans do you have? You were complaining the other day about not finding anything to do."

"I have...things planned?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Things...?"

I sighed in defeat. "Alright. Nothing."

"So why not come with me?"

"But..." I whimpered. "Your family. What if they found out you're gay and end up hating you like mine did?"

He blinked, clearly not expecting that. "They already know about that."

I nearly choked. I had been so worried the entire time. "They do?"

"Of course. Was that the only reason you didn't want to come?"

"Well..." I muttered. "That, and I didn't want you getting the wrong idea."

"Listen, Bethel. You're sweet. And you got a killer muzzle. But I doubt we'd work out as boyfriends."

"Yeah," I said, deflated. "You're probably right."

"So come help me with these presents, and we'll go have a nice Christmas dinner."

I was still sort of out of it when he grabbed my paw and started dragging me down the street. "Come on!" he shouted. I gave up and smiled, running down the street with him.

fin.

A/N: I'm not going to lie, this entire story was an excuse to call something "The Tail Star of Bethlehem" even though the actual story has little to do with tail stars at all. Mostly this has been an exercise in getting myself to stop being lazy and write, and a little bit of a first person narration practice. I hope you guys enjoyed it either way, and as always feel free to rate, comment, and let me know what you liked or hated about it. Til next time!