Vixen (boyxboy)

[17] Duty.

     Crow was too engrossed picking at his claws to react any way at Vixen's words. He remained sitting on the floor, half of him in darkness due to the angle of the pale sun ray.

     His lack of response made Vixen's weak, sore muscles convulse spontaneously. The view of his lover would sometimes get blurry, but blinking the tears away put him back in focus looking the very same way, as though he was a statue.

     Vixen pulled up his boxers and fixed his t-shirt, then brushed away the hair from his eyes. "Please answer my question..." he whispered hoarsely.

     Only Crow's eyes moved, half of them lost behind his bangs. "You asked nothing."

     "Have you done this before?"

     The man returned his gaze to his hand but lower, inspecting the veins on his wrist. "Yes." he traced one down. It was the last movement Vixen saw clearly before his eyes welled up.

     If he were sober he wouldn't have acted like a crybaby. There's been decades since they had been on speaking terms and Crow was an adult, but it was surprisingly hard on him.

     The reason is, Crow had proved him wrong on many past assumptions: apparently he'd never stopped loving Vixen and he had a legitimate explanation for all of his murders. It made Vixen forget all of the beliefs he's had previously, but turns out one remained.

     Crow has had someone in his life. Perhaps still had? And so a series of what ifs worked its way along Vixen's blood flow, numbing and shaking every organ it passed.

     "Who?"

     Crow's head finally moved upon hearing the broken voice. His lips parted and he leaned aside as to catch Vixen's gaze.

     The pale, bony hand reached for Vixen and before it got to his cheek, Vixen held it and pulled it to his face himself.

     Crow swiftly scooted closer and cupped his other cheek, both thumbs moving about. They weren't wiping the tears, they were seemingly feeling them.

     "Someone." he murmured faintly. "Does not feel pleasant, does it?" his words were slow and his voice rusty as always.

     Vixen sniffled ridiculously, taking the time to process Crow's slurred words.

     "Hmm?"

     Crow nodded, his eyes distant. "I had shed tears myself as I observed you fool around."

     A sob broke out of Vixen's throat. "I did it out of distress- I never glanced back at a single man! But you- only one, there was one and he meant something!" he cried, placing his hands over Crow's and bowing his head. "Who?"

     Crow hunched down and groaned near Vixen's ear. "Cry some more and then I'll tell."

     Vixen's hands were suddenly onto his cheeks, for Crow had slid away to reach for a third bottle of wine. He shoved a claw in the cork and flicked it away with a squeak.

     Vixen was covering his face with the back of his hands, looking about to sink into his own lap.

     "It's not fair..." he whined. "Did you love him?"

     Crow looked at him from the corner of his eyes, gulping wine. He tilted the bottle down and sucked in his lips before letting them out wet and reddish.

     His eyebrows knitted a little and he glanced at the rim of the bottle, circling it with a finger before letting it down and approaching Vixen once again.