That Night at the Coliseum
Disclaimer, Bitches! If you ain't suppossed to look... _ DON'T FUCKIN' LOOK!!! _ Got it? If you do anyway, I'm not resposible. Bitches.
Author's note: This story is based upon the "Furry Wrestling" Interactive Stories on Writing.com and my characters. Note, this was written while I was still single, so I got my character a fictional boyfriend because he needed to get laid. All non-plot essential events mentioned are from the RP in which I play each character mentioned that is present day.
Tristan Hawthorne son of Jessica by Hearne, Matthias Amadeus Thesus Hawthorne, Cosmo Syn Hawthorne, Stevie, and others (c) Tristan Hawthorne. (Me)
Now for the SMUT!!!
"He's asleep." Tris pulled a tapestry over the doorway.. The room seemed to be in a castle. The stone floor was covered with a checkered rug. There was an entertainment center against one wall, computer desk against the other. On several of the walls were tapestries to keep in the heat. He pointed to the canopy bed in the corner were there was the outline of a sprawled figure lay. He pulled another tapestry across the room to separate the other side of the room from his large bed that he sat upon. His soft white fur contrasted the black pajama pants he wore. His massive hindpaws emerged from the black cloth, mirroring the pitch black pads. His furry chest was bare, lithe musculature showing through the fur. His ears fell down and rested on the bed behind him, on either side of his cottontail. The insides of his ears were as black as his pawpads. Along one arm was a silver pattern in his fur, an Asian dragon wrapping up from his wrist to the base of his neck. On his other arm was a red dyed label of XLII- followed by the symbol Omega, all a few inches down from his shoulder. His eyes were violet and their pupils were rhombic. As he spoke, he flashed white fangs sprouting from black gums. "What did you want to talk about, Math?"
Math sat, fuzzy legs akimbo, his veritable nest of tails laid out behind him, nine white fox brushes emerging from the back of the black boxers he was wearing. His eyes were oddly matched, one green, the other gold. In the white fur on his arm was the label, also in red, XLII-A. He sighed, as if building up his courage, "I want to know at least something from my past." Tris was about to object, but Math put his paw to Tris' black lips, "I know you think that if I find out what happened to me before we met, I might go off looking for vengeance or whatever, but I want to know how we met."
Tris blinked, "We were both held prisoner by Doctor Banard--"
Math looked stern, "We knew each other before that. I can tell from my first memories. You were so tender to me, even then. I fell in love with you immediately. I was nearly heartbroken when we were reunited and I found your memory had been wiped as well. Then, at the big Samhain ball, your sister shows up and restores your memory and then Stevie comes to your aid 'gainst her. Three more siblings show up at Yule. Now we have your family members in the dungeons, the east tower, and in our closet."
"Stevie likes it in there." Tris indicated the adjoining chamber-turned walk-in closet-turned bedroom.
"The point is your past found you and made you remember." Math tried to get back to his request.
"Technically, Riley did at Samhain." Tris pointed out. "In an attempt to get me to leave you." He indicated the veiled bed, "You have Cos to thank for keeping me from going mad during that fiasco."
' "Tris. Tell me." Math put a paw to Tris' cheek.
Tris sighed. "Well, this was back when I was the arrogant demigod my Father raised me to be. 1960's. '67, I think. The Beatles had just fallen apart and I had another spoke of the wheel before I had to meet up with Riley in Bangkok. I decided to head to Sri Lanka, where there was this world wide paranormal fighting league in Jaffna. Officially, it was a wrestling federation, but really, it was a coliseum of sorts. If you weren't eaten some way or another, you'd be totally humiliated at best, and be used as a sex aid at worse. It was just the type of place I would hang around to get prey. Remember, Father designated me as Hunter of Paranormal Beasts. I knew a telepath that worked on the staff there. When I was in town, he'd tell me who the fighters were and their weaknesses, then set me up in a fight with one of them. Anyway...
Tristan Hawthorne, Son of Hearne, sat in the risers of the old warehouse, only wearing a kilt with a sporran, surrounded by humans, demons, half angels, werebeasts, vampires, and giants. The only difference between him and the Tris of the present was he was lacking the tattoo labeling him Forty-two Omega. The entire crowd was watching the action in the large ring at the center of the warehouse. A large Lamia had just finished swallowing his sorcerer opponent whole, the bulge settling in the snake-like part of his body. The squat referee held up the Lamia's arm and yelled in Sinhalese into the dangling microphone, "Silverscales is the Winner!" Tristan smiled slightly. You did not see Lamias out of southern Nepal that often. He made a mental note to track down "Silverscales" after the night's fights. The Lamia slithered to the locker rooms. The referee grabbed the mike and began to announce the next fight. "In the Red Corner, The Thunder From Down Under, The Bastard of the Bush, The Aboriginal Original, and our Resident Demon Hunter, Digeridont!!!" Tristan blinked at the name, seeming anticlimactic after all those titles. A dark skinned human with dreadlocks in a large overcoat walked from the dressing room. He climbed in through the ropes of the pentagonal ring.
"Okay." Tris put his paws on either side of an imaginary box in front of Math, "Queue the 'Battle Without Honor or Humanity'"
Math closed his eyes, face forming a confused expression, before snapping open, "What?"
"You know. The song from Kill Bill when Ishii O-Ren is walking into the House of Blue Leaves with Gogo and the inner circle of the Crazy 88's with the crazy camera angles and stuff." Tris attempted to explain.
"I know which song you're talking about." Math sighed, "We went and saw it together." He looked at Tris, "This isn't some attempt to throw me off the story so you don't have to tell it, is it?"
"No. Listen...
A pale man was walking down the aisle wearing a Noh man mask. His white hair was trimmed short. He wore a traditional Japanese Fukama. The referee was saying something, but Tristan was not paying attention. The man reached the ring as the referee shouted, "Kokitsune Himetsu!!!" Tristan watched as the pale man bowed respectfully. The referee shouted again, "Ready? Fight!!!"
The dark man reached into his coat and pulled out twin bowie knives. He swung at the covered man. The man dodged deftly, the blades slicing only air. The dark man's dreadlocks swung out as he spun, both blades extended. The pale man jumped back, before yelling something in Japanese. The pale man ripped off his mask, revealing a white fox's face. He suddenly pulled off his outer clothing, revealing a white furred fox with nine tails emerging from his black kendo pants swaying behind him. "Behold a true Demon." The kitsune said with a smirk. Tristan watched as the battle progressed, the kitsune dodging every assault the aboriginal man threw. The kitsune pulled out two black fans, opening them. Silver blades emerged from the fabric.
The dark man stepped back. He flipped one blade to grab the tip. He threw the knife at the kitsune. He snapped his left fan shut on the knife, before flicking the fan toward the human, the knife spinning out and burying in his neck. He collapsed. The Kitsune looked melancholy at his victory. Tristan looked at the Kitsune. "Newt?" He said quietly.
*Ah. Tristan. I thought I felt your presence tonight.* The young psychic's voice filled Tristan's mind.
Who is this Kitsune? Tristan thought to Newt as the referee announced him the winner.
*Young Kitsune, by Kitsune standards. Not even to his first millennium.* The Kitsune started down the aisle toward the locker rooms. *Showed up a couple of weeks ago, beat everything that came at him. He even took out Titania. After every fight though, he seems a bit disappointed, as if he wanted to lose. Too damn good if you ask me...* The Kitsune was close enough for Tristan to scent the demon. *No one is really sure of his name.*
Kitsunes never give out their true names. That's part of their nature. Tristan stood up and walked along the bench to the stairs down the risers. He watched as the Kitsune walked by. That scent. Such melancholy for as young beast as himself. Tristan smiled. Perfect. Set me up with him tonight. Surprise performance...
"Wait. You stalked me?" Math pounced Tris playfully.
Tris giggled at this, "No. I set us up to fight."
"Difference?" Math nibbled at Tris' neck.
Tris murred. "One, I follow you for a long time before a private confrontation." He nipped at Math's neckfur, "The other has me rig a show so that we fight in a stylized manner for other's entertainment."
"Ah. So you are a voyeur..." Math grinned.
"There's a difference between a fight on stage and coupling in a park with your hostess's younger sisters watching." Tris smirked at Math.
"You liked that..." Math teased.
"If it weren't for your cloaking glamour, there would have been more than a few passing glances. You know we dropped our human forms..." Tris rolled up to straddle Math's chest, "Now, do you want to talk about your orgasm deprivation fetish, or am I going to finish telling you what you begged me to say?"
"How about I enact my ODF as it were, while you attempt to continue..." Math grinned slipping down toward the large lump in Tris' pajama pants.
"Math..." Tris sighed.
"Oh. Okay..." Math sighed.
"Hey, kid." The Kitsune turned as an official looking demon tapped him on the shoulder.
"What?" The Kitsune had been halfway through changing into street clothing.
"Your next fight's been changed." The demon said, attempting to be discreet as he checked the Japanese spirit's physique out.
"In what way?" The Kitsune looked annoyed as the demon's eyes hit his crotch.
"You'll be fighting me, for one." Tristan Hawthorne stood in the doorway. He walked toward the Kitsune, "Koniichiwa, Kokitsune." He nodded formally.
"And to whom do I owe this pleasure?" The Kitsune looked Tristan up and down incredulously, as did most upon meeting the lepine demigod. He inhaled the sweet scent of prey that was starting to invade his nostrils. As he looked, his eyes locked on Tristan's leg musculature, then moving up, lingered on the lump behind the sporran, before scanning his lithe, yet undefined midsection, hints of musculature under the fur, black nipples standing out against his white fur. Finally his gaze landed upon the face, violet eyes with oddly rhombic pupils, black lips and nose, and the white fangs in his mouth. At this the Kitsune blinked. "Odd."
Tristan saw where the Kitsune was looking, "I am a predator in the form of prey, yes." He smiled, emphasizing the fangs. "I usually don't tell preds that. Feel privileged for the warning. I am Tristan Hawthorne, Thirteenth Child of Jessica by Hearne, the Horned Hunter."
"Wow." Math blinked, stroking Tris' ear idly. They had repositioned so that Tris was lying between Math's legs on a cushion of his tails.
"What?" Tris looked up at Math.
"You were an arrogant bastard..." Math grinned.
"And what am I now?" Tris grinned back, reaching up and tickling Math's sides.
Math fell back giggling, Tris following him up, turning over for a better reach. Math grinned as Tris stopped, "A fucking hot bastard who is occasionally considerate."
"Okay that does it." Tris feigned sternness. He grabbed Math around the waist, placed his lips on Math's flat belly, and blew hard. Math giggled, struggling to get away. Tris came up for air, "Now who has to take it back?"
"Would you get over tha--ahahaahahahihihihihie..." Tris bent down and blew a sloppy rude noise on Math's belly again. "I gihihihihihihihihive... Uncle! Uncle!"
"Semantics, Math, Semantics..." Tris slipped his paw under the waistband of Math's boxers, starting to grope as his mouth came down for another assault.
"I fucking take it back!" Math cried. Tris started the assault anyway. "What (Hehehehe) are you (hihihihi) doing--" Tris' paw grasped in Math's pants, "Ungghh. I took it back..."
Tris smiled, while groping, "So did I, but you kept on until I said it right."
"I DID!" Math shouted indignantly.
"I don't remember the expletive being part of the deal..." Tris grinned, starting to pull Math's boxers down.
"I take it back."
"Good." Tris reassumed his former position, "You're learning. Now, where was I?"
"In the Red corner!" The referee shouted into the mike, "The only predatory hare on the planet! Said to be the last of thirteen children of the Celtic God Hearne! His name means 'Inescapable Despair'. We know at least that half is true! He'll reel you in, then spit you out, if you're lucky! The one, the only, TRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!"
Tristan flipped over the ropes with little effort. He looked over at the referee, who was reading the intro off of a card. Newt? Remind me to make you re-write my intro upon threat of ingestion, 'K?
*Ummmm... Okay...*
Tristan looked over to the other entrance as the doors opened. The referee started the other intro, "In the Blue Corner! A young upcoming spirit from the east. At 1.85 meters to the ear, 172 pounds, he's the strongest, fastest, and toughest new fighter this season! This Fox of the rising sun has never been defeated!"
Tristan's eyes narrowed, Of course he's never been defeated. He's here isn't he? His writer's worse than mine...
"OOOOOOOOOOJIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKOOOOOOOOORRRRRIIII!!!" The ref pointed to the Kitsune in the spotlight walking down the aisle. He was now in a traditional blue and green Japanese suit. Tristan smiled, Smart. Changes his name every round.
"Ojikori" arrived at the ring and slinked up under the ropes. He looked at Tristan as if still trying to unfold his enigma. Tristan was secretly doing the same. "FIGHT!"
"Don't tell me." Math grinned. He put a paw on either side of his mouth in a funnel, "MORTAL KOMBAT!" He shouted theatrically before humming the tune of the theme.
"No. Math, do you want me to finish this?" Tris was trying not to laugh.
"You're right. Finish." Math said as one of his tails started to stroke across Tris' chest in a petting motion. Tris made a purring noise that sounded strangely bestial. He smiled, continuing.
The Kitsune and Tristan circled around each other. Tris suddenly dropped to one handpaw as his hindpaws swung at the Kitsune's. He jumped to avoid it as Tristan continued around pushing off with his paw, landing facing away from the Kitsune. He jumped, flipping backwards, landing behind the Kitsune and grabbing beneath his arms. The Kitsune flipped backward to have his arms pinning Tristan's arms. Tristan's hindpaws shot between the Kitsune's, hooking behind them and pulling them forward, dropping his head toward the ground. A few centimeters above the ground they stopped short. The Kitsune had a grin on his face. Tristan grinned as they started pushing down toward the mat. The Kitsune's brow furrowed as they started to float back upward. Tristan suddenly spun forward into a front flip. The Kitsune released Tristan's arms flipping backward. Tristan landed in a crouch. The Kitsune flipped higher up the air, righting himself. He floated down gracefully, his tails spread out to help with his decent. Tristan nodded, smirking. The kitsune seemed slightly flattered, but tried to stay focused. He pulled stilettos out of his sleeves. Tristan bit down on his finger. A drop of black blood fell and sizzled on the canvass below. The Kitsune's eyes widened as Tristan swung his paw in and arc, black blood pouring from the cut and forming a veritable katana. He grabbed it out of midair, spinning it experimentally, "This'll do." The wound on his paw healed without a scar. The Kitsune flipped one of the stilettos to the blade, grabbing it between two fingers. He threw it end over end at Tristan's head. Tristan turned the blade in his paw, deflecting the stiletto. It buried in an observer's chest, who screamed made a death rattle, bled from his mouth, and then fell over. The kitsune threw the other one. Tristan deflected it toward him this time. The kitsune dodged supernaturally, the tip grazing one arm, red blood starting to seep through his white fur. "Sorry bout that. Couldn't be helped. Do you have any more weapons I should know about?" Tristan smiled, his blood blade slowly changing shape to resemble a broadsword made of obsidian.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" The Kitsune grinned back. He gestured toward Tristan. Tristan caught the dart, before dropping it to the mat, landing sticking up slightly. Tristan looked carefully at the Kitsune's wrists. Each had a ring of darts attached to an armlet.
Tristan mumbled something in Gaelic, gesturing at the Kitsune. The Kitsune's sleeves tore apart, the weapons hidden there flying toward Tristan. They stopped in front of him. He let them fall to the mat. "Now I know." He tossed his katana of blood to the side. It melted back to liquid in midair and landed on the dead audience member, dissolving his body completely, as if had never been there, the Tanuki in the next seat scooting away from the seat that had stopped melting halfway through the process. Tristan stepped over the pile of weapons. "Now... Are we going to actually fight?"
"Possibly." The Kitsune grabbed his belt and tied it to one of the turnbuckles of the pentagonal ring. Tristan narrowed his eyes. The Kitsune suddenly spun across the ring, not at Tristan, but to his left, toward one of the two turnbuckles behind him, the canvas bursting into flames in a trail behind him from the friction of his paws spinning along, his belt streaming behind him. He hit the turnbuckle and spun toward the one to Tristan's right. Tristan turned, seeing that the belt had attached to that turnbuckle. And then to the next, the Kitsune spinning to the one to Tristan's left. Tristan turned to run out of the center of the ring. The Kitsune spun right in front of him, causing him to jump back. The Kitsune finally stopped tying the last bit of his belt to the first turnbuckle, a pentacle formed from the fabric and the burns on the canvas. "You see, Tristan," The Kitsune smiled walking up to Tristan on the other side of one of the belts, "I did a bit of research on you after you flaunted yourself so flagrantly in the locker rooms. Twenty years ago you almost lost to a witch because you let go of her after having come in contact with the pentacle pendant around her neck. It seemed to diminish your powers, even give you physical pain, as reported by several witnesses of that match."
Math grinned, "Heh. Hubris is a wonderful cause for downfall."
Tris sighed, "Don't push it Math. You might not get your 'Phukbani' tonight..." Math gasped and Tris grinned evilly.
"You wouldn't dare!" Math clinged to Tris' arm.
"Just listen, okay, Math?" Tris looked down, "And stop humping my leg."
Tristan glared and struck out to punch the Kitsune in the face. As his paw crosses over the belt, it burst into black flame. "FUCK!" He drew back his arm and put out the flames. His arm was burnt black. The Kitsune decked Tristan in his distracted state. He landed inches from the burn mark across the small space he occupied. He got up, rubbing his jaw. "You know... The only reason it's a barrier is that there are two congruent symbols..." He unsheathed a claw and swiftly sliced the belt, before sucking on his claw to relieve the pain. He pounced onto the Kitsune, clearing the burns on the ground as the belt fell away, losing its power. He attempted to pin him, but the Kitsune pushed him not over his head, but to the side. Tristan landed on the burns. He cried out in agony. He got up and on his back his fur was singed black where he had touched the pentacle. The Kitsune grabbed the end of the belt holding his Kilt on. He pulled, the Kilt unfurling from around his form, leaving him naked. "That's it." Tristan's eyes crackled, glowing with crimson energy enveloping his entire eye, removing any indication of the pupils or the whites. His long ears slowly floated upward, as if in a weightless environment. Slowly, he lifted off the ground, the air starting to revolve around his form as his paws formed fists, one with white energy the other seeping darkness. His legs slammed themselves together. His eyes suddenly became pure black, then white save his pupils, then black except for his irises, then the whites of his eyes reappeared with the black ring around his iris remaining. His shadow from the many lights each looked to be an Ahnk. The black and white energy swirled around him, twisting down to form an epilepsy inducing vortex, pulling all the air in the chamber toward it. The Kitsune braced himself, his clothing ripping from the objects and members of the crowd being sucked in before flying up past Tristan, whose eyes were locked upon him, and landing back in the audience. Soon all of the Kitsunes clothes were fluttering out over the audience and he was slowly being drawn toward the vortex, his many tails increasing his drag. He had dug into the canvas with his hindclaws and was making trails. After a few more seconds he slipped on the burn, flying up into the Vortex, spinning up. The vortex dispersed as Tristan reached forward and grabbed the Kitsune out of the air. He yawned his mouth open and his muzzle extended as his fangs grew and his other teeth sharpened. His black forked tongue shot out and wrapped around the Kitsune's neck and dragged him into the gaping maw to his shoulders. The Kitsune struggled, only succeeding in cutting himself on Tristan's teeth. Tristan closed his maw on the Kitsune and jerked his head back, bucking his head up while opening his mouth wider, causing the Kitsune to slip into the unnatural jaws to his waist. The surviving audience was in tumultuous cheers. Although Tristan's neck bulged with his meal, the bulge diminished and vanished at his sternum. The kitsune wasn't being digested due to the fact that his tails and legs were still moving about, albeit weakly. Tristan grabbed the Kitsune's legs and pushed them up, jerking his head again, pulling the Kitsune in until only his calves and the tips of his tails. He let the rest of the Kitsune just slide in from gravity with his jaws as wide as possible. As soon as the large vulpine paws were in his mouth, he slammed his jaws shut dramatically with a loud crash. His muzzle almost immediately shrank to its normal Lepine size as he made a resounding exaggerated gulp, the bulge disappearing completely. He licked his lips as he descended slowly. As he landed he let out a large belch, just for show, comprised of the air he had swallowed with his opponent, leaving enough to keep the Kitsune conscious to witness his digestion.
The Referee walked up to him and raised his paw. "The winner and still undefeated, Tristan Hawthorne!"
Math blinked. "You ate me on our first encounter."
Tris rolled his eyes. "I ate everything I got near back then."
Math tweaked. "Is the story almost over? I'm getting too horny over here..."
Tris grinned down at Math's boxers. "You aren't big enough yet..."
Math glared, "Hey. Just finish the story!"
Tristan awoke feeling someone kicking his stomach. "Why haven't you died..." He moaned, having not opened his eyes.
"I have already, bastard!" Tristan's eyes snapped open, bright green, to see the Kitsune standing naked next to his hotel room bed, winding up to kick his stomach again.
Tristan blocked. "What the fuck? I digested you!"
"And your acids don't even hurt, fucker!" The Kitsune seethed and pulled away his footpad. "Just a tingle, then no feeling at all. That's no death! Where's the crushing muscles? Where's the fiery pain?" He turned and stormed to the door. "You are the wuss's way out. For all your teeth, you're practically harmless."
Tristan sat dumbfounded as the Kitsune slammed the door of his hotel room and he could hear the heavy footfalls degrade into desperate running. He thought he even heard crying.
"And that's the end of our first meeting, and time for me to make you beg for release..." Tris grabbed Math's boxers and pulled them of, revealing his throbbing red vulpine member. Tris latched onto only the head and began to suckle slowly. Math tried to hump into Tris' maw but Tris grabbed his hips and pressed them to the bed before wagging a finger at him.
Math whimpered, "You fucker. Ennngh... Let me fuckin' cum, dammit..."
Tris detached only to grin evilly. He then slowly traced his tongue up Math's vulpine cock, from his fleshy knot to his pointed head, and latched back onto the head. Math cried out, teetering on the edge. Tris pulled back and grabbed Math's paws to keep him from jacking himself to orgasm. "Oh, no you don't..." He leaned down to be millimeters from the head and gently blew out his breath onto the shaft. Math squirmed. "See, Math, I'm always on top. Even when I'm being a cocksucker."
This had obviously been a previous argument, because Math's eyes snapped open and he pulled free from Tris' grasp and grabbed his waistband, yanking it down over the massive bulge there. Tris' cock flopped out, nearly hard, but not quite. Math grinned, "Let's test that theory, shall we? Bend over."
"What?" Tris blinked. "With the way I teased you, you'll get off before you hilt."
"Just do it." Math nearly growled. Tris decided to humor him and turned betting on his paws and knees, showing off his firm rump to his boyfriend. Math leaned over and licked under Tris' tail.
Tris gasped, "Oh, you evil bastard!" His cock was instantly hard, pointing forward at the sheets between Tris' paws. Math only giggled and licked again. Tris grinned and ground his ass back against Math's tongue and Math's nose slipped into Tris' tailhole. Tris giggled, flexing his ass. Math grabbed Tris' hips and started to push the rest of his muzzle into his boyfriend's anus, causing him to gasp, "What the fuck are you doing?!?" Math's only reply was to start licking directly against the wall of Tris' colon behind which the prostate sat, throbbing. Tris' cock spasmed and leaked pre copiously.
Thirteen feet away, Cosmo tried to sleep while his guardians fucked noisily.
Five feet away, Stevie slept regardless of outside stimuli.
Tris forced himself foreword to get Math's face out of him. "Ass Bandit!"
Math grinned and gave a fake spaghetti western accent, "I sure held up yer caboose, dint I?"
Tris grinned, turning over, his black cock throbbing. "Well as long as you stole my ass... Take it."
Math grinned wider and scooted forward, aligning his bright red cock against Tris' stretched tailhole. After a moment of nothing but the sound of lustful panting, he pushed forward, spearing Tris' ass with the pointed head. Math smiled and pushed in all the way to his knot. "Mmmmmm... Bunny Ass."
Tris blinked and pushed Math over, getting on top of him, using his weight to pop the knot past his ring, "That's Hare to you, foxy." He squeezed the cock in his as and began to bounce on it, riding Math for all he was worth. After all their teasing it only took a minute until they both cried out and Tris felt a warmth surge up inside him as Math felt Tris' cum rain down upon him.
A couple seconds later, Tris was lying on top of Math, nuzzling him lovingly in afterglow. Math was content, tied to his lover via his knot. Math was the first to speak. "Y'know... I think I remember that..."
"What?" Tris licked Math's neck gently.
"That night at the Coliseum." Math smiled slightly, "It feels right, somehow."
"That's amazing." Tris said, looking up, "I made it up on the spot."
Math glared down at Tris, "You little bastard..."
Tris grinned, "You know you love it."
"I know. That's why your cock is still intact right now." Math licked Tris' face.
Tris smiled, resting his head under Math's chin, "Someday, I'll tell you everything."
"I'll hold you to that, Tris..." Math sighed, dozing off. Soon they were both asleep.
Cosmo got up and slipped over to the closet, stepping over Stevie's sleeping form, and searched the journals that Tris had had him painstakingly organize. He found the book that was the sixties and flipped through it. There, taking up the last twenty pages, was an even more in depth description of the events Tris had described that night. Cosmo sighed and shook his head.
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So, if you want to flame me about my improper use of japanese culture, ask me questions about how confusing all this crap is, or just want to yammer, click on my name at the top. That gets you to my mail. Generally. If it doesn't, not my fault.