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White Chocolate Mocha: Chapter 6

"I am so sorry for this!" I say as I wipe my face with a napkin. I feel absolutely humiliated. I feel angry, but most of all, I feel sad. I try to think up something to explain to the fox sitting beside me why I just got drenched by a mediocre beer. Nothing particularly comes to mind. Luckily, instead of saying anything to make me feel worse, he just starts laughing.

"Jealous bitches, am I right?" He almost makes me punch him. I get as far as clenching my fist before I realize he didn't mean any harm by it. "It's fine, how about we reschedule this for another time? Maybe next week?" I graciously accept and apologize again. He extends his paw and I shake it. "Good, I'll call you." He pays his tab and leaves. I quickly do the same so I can get home and clean up.

By the time I shower up and get ready for bed, my mind hasn't been quiet. I hate how he hasn't left my mind since I first saw him. He has plagued every corner of my mind, and yet, I can't seem to say that.

I never thought my life would come to this. I had everything planned out. I did well in college, I had a business, and a job I loved. But everything has changed since then. My barista uniform is in my closet, collecting dust now.

As a kid, I always thought that things would go perfectly. I thought that everything would go as it has been, up until a few months ago. I have always wanted to help people for a living. While it's not as noble as joining the Peace Corps or improving the quality of life for baby hyenas in the south, I thought I had a decent dream. Practicality was the biggest thing behind my motivations. It was practical. It isn't hard to make a life serving people and making their lives easier. Although in reality that amounted to helping them wake up in the morning and stay up at night, I was proud. I couldn't say the same for my parents. I often wonder where I get my practicality from since my parents have always had the highest hopes for me. 'Hope' isn't the proper term. More along the lines of expectations. I was the youngest in the family and as such my parents held the whole, "we had several tries with your brothers and sisters, so we must have raised you right." I can't argue with that. They did raise me right. I wish they could see that. Instead they only see the fact that I'm not a doctor or lawyer or some other profession that they would be able to brag about. Instead they get to say, "Oh, Rey, yeah, he's a small business owner." Well, was a small business owner. I've never been able to explain to them that I'm happy. My parents, like every child's parents, have always said they just wanted me to be successful. But they can't seem to get into their heads that I am successful, in my own way. I just don't have a nine-to-five job and live with a white picket fence, a wife and pups.

When I brought home my first girlfriend, they were so excited. They wouldn't let go of the "the two of you would have such perfect pups!" line. And they were right, we would have had pretty great cubs, but we didn't work out. The spark that I thought we had, was gone before long and my parents would not let me live it down, neither would my siblings. They wouldn't let me live down how hot she was. I didn't understand it. Why was everyone so obsessed with how they looked? I guess there was more to it than I thought at the time. As one might expect, randomly breaking up with your super-hot girlfriend because there 'wasn't a spark' at that age, brought upon some ridicule. Especially from my older brothers. Although the teasing seemed just mean at the time, I found it to be constructive. Calling me 'gay' opened me up to a new world. I had always thought that I would date girls, and I did. Even after breaking up with my first girlfriend, I had several more throughout high school and even in college. I even dated a girl just last year. They all ended when I realized that I just wasn't feeling anything special with them. Sure, the sex was fun, I loved it, but it was missing something, a spark. No matter who she was, she just couldn't give me that feeling in my chest that made me feel all warm and fuzzy.

That was when I realized that my brothers might have been right. In their teasing, they gave me the strength to realize it. Since they were teasing about it, it didn't seem like too much of a jump to actually consider it. While I did have some doubts of myself, thinking it was actually just a phase, like almost every gay person's parents say, I knew that women and I just didn't work, no matter how much I wanted it to, and believe me, I wanted it to, more than anything in the world. Once I realized that women would not give me the happiness I wanted, I knew it was time to give the innate attraction I had always had to men a try. My first gay experience probably wasn't very typical seeing as I pretty much took the first guy at the local gay bar home, fucked him raw like an idiot, thinking pregnancy was the biggest concern of sex, then had him leave. Thank goodness he was clean and was kind enough to warn me of the dangers of unprotected gay sex. Sex with this guy was easy, hell, it was better than easy, it was downright amazing, but still no spark. I knew it was because I didn't actually have any feelings for him, but it was a bit disheartening still. From that moment on, I'd been a sort of man whore, sticking my pole in any tailhole I could get it into. I justified myself that it was just ensuring that I wasn't going through a phase, and making sure that it wasn't just that one guy who made it feel good, but that one guy turned into five guys, turned into ten.

I think that's the reason why I freaked out with Dylan. He was the first guy who I actually had a date with and it killed me knowing that I took him home and fucked him just like he was another of my one night stands. The thing that really got me was the fact that it didn't feel the same. It felt different and that scared me. I was scared that he was the turning point. The point where gay sex wasn't right to me anymore. While it felt amazing, I hated myself for rushing him into it. When we woke up the morning after, I couldn't quite pull myself together, I was so freaked out. I'd never woken up with another guy in my bed, let alone one looking so adorable nuzzled against my chest. I dashed out of bed and busied myself with making coffee. As soon as I got the chance, I used the meeting I had later that day with my financial advisor to get him out so I could think things over.

The meeting was one of those heartbreaking meetings where nobody knows what to say, since there isn't much to say. "You have to sell the coffee shop." That was all the badger needed to tell me. He gave me the numbers, he gave me an alternative career idea, he gave me his comfort, and none of it mattered. The coffee shop had been my dream, my life, and in one quick moment, it was taken away. He told me what I did wrong with the business, but I was only half listening. I couldn't get over how fast things were moving. I got a decent amount for the shop, enough to pay off my remaining debt from it and a couple months of rent. Although I knew how much of a pain it would be, I decided that I wanted to go to my parents' house. I spent a few days there, just to get my head on straight. My parents weren't very supportive either. They just kept telling me about how they said it was going to happen. It persisted my whole visit so by the time I decided to leave, it wasn't much of tough decision. When I came back to the city I found myself a job at the bank doing some menial tasks. It has been good. It pays enough for me to pay rent and eat. I guess that's all I really need right now. If I want anything else in my life, I'll just have to downsize.

With my whole life changed around me, I'd been feeling lost. I just didn't realize how lost I was until last night. I've never been one to give up on something I wanted. What's happened to me? I want what I want and nothing keeps me from getting what I want. I'm a good fur, and I deserve what good furs get, the love of their life. He made me feel so good, being around him, what am I doing letting that get away. I need to resurrect myself. These past couple of months I've been walking around like a zombie without purpose, I need to go get that purpose. With a purposeful leap, I jumped out of the bed that I had been lying in for an hour or so, and rushed to get ready. I gave no cares anymore, caution to the wind. I was going to get what I wanted, and that was that cute little shiba inu. He was going to be mine, I'm not taking no for an answer. I quickly showered, trimmed my facial fur a bit, combed my hair, put on some musk cologne, put on my favorite clothes, and marched out the door. Before long I was at his door.

*Knock knock knock*

I waited for a moment, no response. I tried again.

*Knock knock knock*

After a few seconds I heard footsteps coming to the door, they stopped short of opening it. I could see a shadow blocking the peephole. There was silence. Neither of us moved for what felt like forever. That shiba inu on the other side of the door probably feeling so much, I just wish this door wasn't between us so I could hold him tight and make right what I've wronged.

"Dylan..." I said softly, trying to get a sympathetic ear from him. His shadow didn't budge. "Dylan, I'm sorry-" I was going to start explaining myself through the door before it flung open and an enraged Dylan appeared behind it.

"Damn right you're sorry!" he barked out at me.

"Dylan, I-"

"No! Don't you dare try to make up some bullshit excuse! You're an asshole, that's all there is to it."

"Dyl-"

"How can you live with yourself? How can you just leave me hanging like that? I thought you were something special."

"Yo-"

"I thought you were different."

"I-"

"I thought you wouldn't hurt me like all the rest, I thought you be the one to finally show me how to love, but you fucked up, you fucked up bad. I don't even give a shit anymore if I die alone. At least I'll know that I wasn't fucked over by another guy like you!" He was almost screaming at this point, his fur getting matted in tears. I was being cautious, afraid that any movement could set him off, but that's all gone now, he's gone off. He's given me everything that he has been holding in for the past few months. He didn't deserve this. I raise a paw to his face and he flinches at first, but then he stops. I wipe the tears off his fur and look into his eyes. He stares deeply into mine and continues crying. My heart is wrenching seeing this. I've got this painful hole in my chest that needs to be filled. I wrap my arms around him and pull him into my chest. He begins sobbing. His deep breaths move my body along with him.

"I'm sorry," I whisper into his splayed ears, "I'm sorry for what I did. I know, I had no right to treat you like that and I regret it more than anything. That night that I spent with you was the best night ever and I'm sorry I threw it away. You don't deserve to be treated like that. Youre an amazing fur and I'd really like to make up for what I've done. I don't expect you to care, but I really felt something for you that night, I was just overwhelmed with everything going on. You deserve more than being put last, and I want to have the chance to put you first, if you'll let me." He looked up to me with his brilliant chocolate brown eyes. His eyes were still watery but his tears have subsided.

"I need you here."

"I'm here."

"I need you to stay here, I need you to not disappear. When things get tough, you can't just run out on things. You have to be willing to commit. I don't think I could handle another guy walking out on me. "

"I'll be right here Dylan, I'm not going anywhere."