Hold Me
#59 of Hockey Hunk Season 4
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Hello, folks!
This is the Wednesday special chapter I wanted to do - things got a bit hectic due to the crash of the site and stuff, but I'm glad we're back, so here's something little to commemorate that, and make things feel a bit more normal...well...maybe abnormal, in a way, since I only rarely post Wednesday chapters...but I suppose this is as good an occasion as any! *chuckle*
I've reposted the Monday chapter here, too, so if you would like to go and leave a small comment there, too, I would be grateful. Losing all those comments feels quite bad for me, because I value your feedback so much.
Hope you'll like the read, and I hope you'll comment, vote and fave - all feedback is always enjoyed, and it will, of course, help others to find these stories to enjoy as well.
Cheers!
*
The trample of paws alerted me at first. I barely had time to mobilize my eyes from the happenings of Downton Abbey on TV before I saw the lion, rushing towards me at an alarming speed, moving without control, it seemed, in a mood I knew to be potentially one of Rowreeh's foulest.
I only had to glimpse him to know.
He was heavy and he was hot, and he was close, and I tensed until I wasn't bothered, and I put my arms around him and held the shaking wreck of a lion close, listening to him with my body, the trembles and the tension, and the breaths that ruffled my own soft-layered furs...
I let him be. Sometimes it was best not to push him. I didn't know what was going on now, but I'd learn soon enough. That was part of the dance we did. We had to give each other time and space, room to...to breathe.
It's the most beautiful thing, and it's the distasteful thing my heart has to bear.
The show was running its end credits by the time Rory leaned back from me, and distastefully brushed his muzzle and eyes onto the sleeve of his shirt. I almost reached for the box of wet antiseptic towelettes that was always on the little table by the couch, but held my paw back. Weren't tears supposed to be sterile?
He blinked, and looked away from me, ears flat, ruffled mane, a limp tail, all signs of a distraught cat, and possibly shamed, too.
I rubbed my paw across his back.
"Talk if you can," I whispered.
He took several deep, shoulder-rising breaths, loud and trembling, before he relaxed again, head still hung, crashed on the couch and avoiding my eye with diligence. I kept my paw on the small of his back, above the base of his tail.
"Oh, shit..." the lion grumbled.
"What'd I do now?"
So what? I need to get mine out of this, too, so why not?
Rory gave me a broody, red-eyed glance, and I almost went for the wipes again. Those might sting a little, though. The other box for tissues. The foot-operated trashcan for the disposal.
"If it was you..." the lion buried his face in his palms.
"I can't help unless you tell me," I notified as he kept that position up for an extraordinary long time.
It took a few moments for him to calm himself down enough to tell. He rambled on about a video, about that tiger again, that Mist-person whom he had kissed and which had set in motion the gay drama machine that was that Doberman with his even gayer brother. What he saw in those two besides the sex, I wasn't sure, but...well. That was Rowreeh. Sometimes the sex was enough to start things off. I would've been a hypocrite if I'd spoken otherwise.
He talked about a lot of things. He didn't seem much happier once it was all out.
"Sounds like he said some really powerful stuff then, Rowreeh," I kept rubbing his back, to test out just how bad he was.
Rory huffed.
"I feel like such a shit," he said, "I feel like a total loser for what I am."
"You're nothing but yourself."
"I'm a joke," Rory opined.
"I must've missed the punchline because I kinda lost the plot around the 'A lion walks into a bookstore and hides his homosexuality from his co-workers, ending into non-hilarious situations of nervous breakdown', so I'm sorry."
Rory gave me an unimpressed look. I responded in kind.
"What does it matter what that tiger says? "I suggested, rubbing the firmness of a vertebra, along the line that narrowed towards his tail, under the thick fur.
Rory's ears spoke first.
"Because he said almost everything I used to feel...and...still do," the lion swallowed heavily and then snuffled, making his whiskers shake.
"About what?"
"About being different," he glanced at me sideways, still sitting down hunched, "about not knowing who I was...about keeping it away from everyone...being too afraid to...oh, God..."
"I don't think He will help you now," I suggested. "Though I did pray with Jacob Holden that you'd survive your operation..."
Another curious look from Rowreeh. His ears were talking a lot more than his muzzle, once again.
"Yeah," I patted his back, "long story. Back to yours, though."
"I feel like such an asshole for acting like I did," Rory replied in another of his long, patent huffs," I couldn't even bring myself to tell him that I didn't...that I was with someone...and..."
"So you're not saying that he made that video only to get back at you for being a closeted bastard asshole tiger-cheating lion?" damn that felt nice to say.
Rory snuffled.
"This is real life, not The Bold and the Beautiful," Rory suggested.
I chuckled.
"If this was The Bold and the Beautiful, I'd probably be currently in a hot tub with a millionaire fashion designer instead of listening to you mope on."
Grunt.
"Oh, Rowreeh, what's wrong with you?" I asked him.
"I didn't even properly apologize," he said. "I didn't even...I didn't even...tell him how sorry I was, not really...not in my own words...I..."
"Does it matter?"
"Of course it does," Rory snorted, "I'm such a failure..."
"Quit with this failure business," I said. "It is highly unappealing to me, and it reminds me all too much of the time after Graham and after the magazine..."
Rory tensed again, and I knew that I'd smacked a sore spot. I wasn't afraid to, but it seemed like I should spare him a few, at least today.
"This is a different time now," I said, "things are very different. Life is very different."
"I'm still me."
"To a degree, yes," I snuffled, agreeing that there were still parts of him that were...there. The rest had undergone quite the few changes over the years.
"I feel like I've lost something," Rory replied. "Something..."
"Something like...something like..." I tried, clicking my tongue," some part of you that'd feel gleeful over the chance of doing something like that tiger did."
Rory shook his head.
"He wants to be a role model. That's not me."
"Maybe you could be," I proposed.
"I don't want to be," Rory huffed again.
"It's not easy," I said.
We look at each other, and I smiled a little.
*
Thank you for reading!
Hope you had a fine time with my story once again, and I do hope you'll comment, vote and fave - all feedback is always appreciated, and will help others to find these stories to enjoy as well!
See you on Friday with the regular HH slot!
Cheerio!