➤ ➤ ➤
"I'm so fucking sorry," I whimpered, clasping my paw over my mouth as I watched Ari plug up his left nostril with a bloody tissue, which was really just some rolled-up toilet paper we found in the bathroom stalls. I felt so embarrassed that I could fucking break down and cry hysterically.
"It's okay, Harvey," Ari chuckled as if it were no big deal, squeezing the tip of his nose and tilting his head back to stop the blood from gushing out.
We were alone in the bathroom together, but we could tell someone had just been here because of the smoke wafting in the air, likely the emissions of a blunt, a cigarette, or a vape pen someone was using. Ari stared at himself in the mirror and laughed at the sight, pushing the hair out of his face to get a clear picture.
"Fuck," I mumbled, noticing the blood stains on his beige-colored graphic t-shirt. I scrounged for more paper towels from the dispenser on the wall and soaked them in tap water using the sink in front of us. I grabbed his shirt and began to dab the towel against the stain, trying to wash the blood out. I was sweating bullets.
Ari removed the tissues from his nose and looked down at me. "That's not gonna work, you know," he attempted to notify me as I scrubbed harder, blotting and smudging the red stain, spreading it and making it look even worse.
"Jesus, oh—Oh, my God—Ari, I'm—" I stammered apprehensively, my hands jittering as I ditched the towel and began to rub my fingers into the shirt. I don't know why I thought that would work. "Oh, fuck..."
"Harvey, calm down, it's okay," Ari assured, tossing his bloody tissues into the nearest trash can.
"No, it's not okay, I—Fuck," I grumbled anxiously, only for Ari to firmly grab ahold of my wrists, stopping me from doing any more.
"Harvard," Ari stated sincerely, eyeing me with an intense glare. "It's okay."
I sighed and sunk my head low with shame. "I'm sorry, Arizona..."
"You don't have to keep saying it. It wasn't your fault." Ari smiled faintly, loosening his grip on my paws. He then grabbed the edges of the sink counter with his palms and lifted himself up onto it, sitting with his legs dangling over the edge. "Besides, I appreciated the gesture."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I might be going deaf, but I'm pretty sure I'm not blind," Ari smirked, slouching over with his paws fastened to the edge of the counter, his feet gently kicking back and forth. "...It looked to me like you were trying to kiss me back there."
Even though I probably—most definitely—broke his nose, he still looked hot as fuck, all roughed up and bloody and shit. There was something about him; that no matter what condition he was in, he would always look flawless. Or maybe that was just how I saw him.
"Uh, yeah..." I chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of my head. God, I act like such a fucking dork. To him, I probably looked like every socially awkward nerdy male love interest you'd see in those dumb teen romance fiction novels.
"I'm flattered," Ari spoke softly, staring at his paw as he scraped his nails together. "But, I'm a little confused, I thought you wanted to keep this thing a secret?"
I took a deep breath and crossed my arms. My eyes wandered around the room. "...I dunno what I was doing," I admitted, staring at his shoes as they gently swung back and forth. "I wasn't really... thinking straight. I guess the moment, just, came and..."
"...It felt right?"
I lifted my head up and looked at him. He was giving me that same, soft gaze; the one that could put all my fears to rest while also making me squirm with excitement, all at the same exact time. He was Medusa, and I, his newly-turned stone.
"Yeah..."
I stepped closer and joined him on the sink counter, sitting beside him. I could tell Ari appreciated the action with the way he reciprocated by leaning in ever so slightly, causing our shoulders to touch. My paws were clenched tightly onto the edges of the sink counter, seeing how close our hands were.
"It's weird," I continued, my eyes glued to our paws, resting on the counter within inches from one another. "...I've been so afraid of... people finding out about me, but... when I'm with you, it's like I don't care about any of that."
Ari was quiet for a moment. Then, I noticed his paw inching closer to mine.
"You're cute when you're nervous..." His pinky reached out and brushed up against my hand. "...but I like it when you're confident."
I watched, dazed and hypnotized, as Ari's paw gently folded over mine, his velvety, cotton-like grasp cloaking the entire backside of my hand. The prickly tips of his claws danced gently against my fur, giving me ticklish sensations. His fingers were practically beckoning me to give in. I turned my hand over and allowed Ari's paw to grab ahold of mine, our fingers interlocking and fitting together snugly.
"You have this... spark that lights up in you. I see it when you're playing music. In your eyes," his fond, gentle voice tenderly graced my ear, like maple syrup pouring over a sugar-coated pancake. "I wanna see more of it."
Ari tilted his head to look up at me, our eyes meeting. There was a clear method to his seduction; every subtle movement of his was precisely calculated and carried out. He was so smooth with his strategic flirting that I could barely pick up on his discreet tactics. He's experienced; he knows exactly how to pry me open by the cracks.
Ari lifted his paw and touched the side of my face, his fingertips grazing my chin. Unable to resist the pleasurable stimulation it provoked, I moved into it, allowing my head to rest firmly in his grasp. Once he had me in place, he situated his paw firmly against my neck and leaned in, touching his lips to mine.
Every kiss we shared felt like the first. They all took hold and birthed the same, jittery sensation of lovestruck excitement within my core. I could feel my tail begin to wag eagerly, causing my entire body to tremble.
"Calm down, psycho," Ari cracked in a light whisper, petting my tail with his soothing touch. "Hold still."
"Sorry," I exhaled heavily and shakily, only for my breath to be caught in his mouth as he kissed me once again.
Ari clutched me by the waist and pulled himself closer, his hands running free all along my torso and the cotton shirt that I wore over it. My shy paws cautiously inched their way onto Ari's legs and slowly crawled up to his hips, feeling the rough, frayed denim material of his tight, skinny jeans. My fingers slid through the belt loops of his pants once they had reached his waist. Ari's paws were on their own mission, grabbing me gently by the shoulders whilst his thumbs stroked my collarbones. I was beginning to notice how much he cherished physical touch as a way of showing affection.
Soft, delicate smacks and pops could be heard coming from our lips as they carefully meshed together. The kiss was simple and sweet; there was no hurry or rush to it. With one last audible petite smooch, Ari and I parted mouths and backed away slowly. Our eyes met yet again, and instead of filling the silence with words, we just stared at one another and smiled. Ari bit his lip and reached for my forehead, pushing back a rogue strand of hair to keep it out of my eyes.
"When..." I began, only for my voice to trail off. Ari raised an eyebrow and gave me an intrigued look that seemed to say, 'Go ahead'. I cleared my throat and tried again: "...When you first found out you were... gay, were you ever afraid of what people would think?"
Ari's eyes went rogue and wandered about as he contemplated my ask. He then shrugged. "I find myself to be pretty insensitive towards other people's thoughts and opinions of me."
Overcome with envy, I wondered: "How?"
Ari sucked his teeth and exhaled drearily, his eyes still meandering about. "I grew up in a lot of different homes. And with a lot of different people. No person was ever in my life long enough for me to care about how they saw me. Until now, of course."
"But the things people would say about you..." My paw gripped the edge of the counter with resentment. "That didn't... hurt?"
Ari hesitated before responding.
"Are you afraid they'll say the same things about you?"
His eyes targeted mine, and all of a sudden, I felt strapped to the hot seat. It was now my turn to hesitate.
Ari processed my silence and assumed it as my answer. "...Is that why you hide? Do you not wanna be seen with me?"
"No, no, it's not that," I blurted out, shaking my head and waving my paws desperately. "It's nothing about you. Well, not entirely. I don't know what it is."
"Hm. Maybe you're internally homophobic."
Hearing those words come out of his mouth elicited an emphatic scoff from me, followed by some buoyant chuckles and snorts. "What? No! I'm..." I then noticed the unamused expression on his face and quickly realized he meant it sincerely. "But... I'm not... That's not even—How is that possible?"
"It is possible, I've seen it," Ari nodded his head, much to my disbelief. "Gay people can be homophobic. I've met way too many gay guys who hate the idea of being a homosexual so much that they create this imaginary stereotypical image of homosexuality in their heads and do everything in their power to avoid it."
"B-But, I'm not against homosexuality."
"I've seen it in openly gay men, too," Ari digressed. "The only guys they're into are the usual tough, masculine, deep-voiced, able-bodied studs who have muscles upon muscles and call every person they meet 'bro', and not the ones who are actually expressive of their sexuality," he explained, mockingly squaring up with his fists to imitate the men he described. "Closeted gay men are like that, too, they chase and prey on women as a way to convince themselves that they aren't secretly into men, which they clearly are."
"How do you know all this?"
Ari raised his arms into an awkward shrug, but not one of confusion, instead, more matter-of-fact. "I've seen it all. I've come to understand it so well that I can, sorta, tell when a guy is hiding their sexuality." Ari then went quiet for a second, his mind venturing elsewhere. "...Corey was like that."
My eyes awkwardly shifted from him, to the sink counter, and then back to him. "Corey Baxter?"
"...He would never look at my face," Ari reminisced, ineptly fumbling with his collar. "He would always pretend I was his ex-girlfriend. When we... did things, he'd act violently and angrily, almost like he was mad at himself for enjoying it... and was taking it out on me."
"...I'm not like that."
"I know you're not."
"I'm not homophobic."
"You're conflicted," Ari diagnosed, his finger still hanging onto the rim of his collar. "I get it. You don't know why or how. I know that feeling. I used to question where it came from. I didn't grow up surrounded by homosexuality, there was nothing like that to influence me. So I just began to believe it was just the way my brain was wired. It's just how my mind is programmed."
"...How are you so confident with yourself?" I wondered, scratching my forehead and shaking my head. "With your sexuality?"
Ari shrugged yet again. "Same story. Grew up in a constantly shifting environment, all I had was myself to depend on. I am who I am. And that's no one else's problem but mine."
"...I want that."
Ari's brows furrowed suspiciously. "My confidence or my childhood? Because trust me, you do not want the second option."
"I want your freedom. Your liberty. I want to be proud of myself the way you are," I stated earnestly, only for Ari's face to wilt with embarrassment.
"Hey... I never said I was proud of myself."
Hearing that from him delivered quite a shock. "But... you're always so... carefree, and... self-assured, and—"
"—Pride and carelessness are two different things. It's easy to confuse them, they're both shown in very similar ways," Ari explained, teaching me a valuable lesson. "Don't make me your role model, Harvey. I've fucked up, hard. I'm not proud of what I've done."
At least you had the courage to go out and do those things, my inner voice grumbled.
"...I just want to stop feeling all this fear," I mumbled apprehensively, my head sinking, crestfallen.
Ari reached for my chin again and picked my head right back up. He leaned in close and flashed that warm, reassuring grin, relieving me of my depressed state.
"...Then stop thinking. Just kiss me."
That single statement turned me on like a light switch. I could feel my entire nervous system instantly surge and grow tense with titillation, all because of three simple words. I didn't think it was possible for a certain body part of mine to go hard so lightning fast, but that was just the effect Ari had on me. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I'd easily go on hands and knees if tempted with just one measly kiss from the one, the only, Arizona Sundance.
With a smile plastered on my face, I leaned forward and landed, mouth-first, right into Ari. As our lips pressed together, Ari's paws coddled my neck as my hands tightly gripped the sides of his torso. The two of us latched onto one another like bunnies, unable to hold back.
Now, don't forget, I'm still no expert at kissing, but Ari didn't seem to care. He took the lead and did most of the work, which I felt slightly guilty about, but luckily, Ari was into being the one in charge, so it all technically worked out.
Until— "Oh, shit," Ari blurted out, jumping back and covering his nose with his paw. "Hang on..."
Concerned, I looked on in horror as a few drops of blood re-emerged from his broken nose and began to drip down the side of his snout. The tiny droplets traveled down his lips and hit his beige graphic t-shirt once again, staining it red. Ari cupped his paw underneath his chin to catch the blood from spreading any further.
"Fuck..." I grumbled and reached for more paper towels as Ari began to titter and giggle. I handed him a large wad of tissues and watched with deep regret as Ari cleaned himself up for the second time. "I'm sorry about your shirt... this is all my fault."
"Don't worry about it," Ari brushed it off, shifting his body on the sink counter so he could get a good look at himself in the mirror behind him. He pinched the chest region of his shirt and held it up flat to see the front design. "I actually think it makes Lesley look more badass."
The t-shirt graphic was a vintage portrait of prestige 1960s pop singer Lesley Gore, taken straight from the album cover artwork of one of her earlier records. Her face was now painted with blood, reminiscent of something straight out of a cult-classic horror flick. Ari and I laughed, admiring the "artistic" way we had just permanently ruined a good shirt.
That was when the door to the bathroom swung open and in walked Eden, followed by Rian. "What are you two lovebirds cackling about?" She teased, approaching us by the sink counter and holding out an item in her hand for Ari to take. "Try this, Ari."
Ari took the item and stared at it, discovering that, in his hands, he was holding a tampon. "Wait, you want me to—"
"—In your nose, yeah," Eden instructed as Rian stood beside her, squinting to get a good look at the damage I had done to Ari's face. "Leave it in there for a few minutes. Just take it out when you're ready to go on."
"Hm. This is peculiar," Ari shrugged, unplugging the paper towels I had given him from his nose and inserting the tampon.
"You doin' okay, Ari? Will you be able to play?" Rian asked as he took the bloody napkins from him and tossed them into the trash. "You didn't do permanent damage to his nose, did you, Harvey?"
"Shut up," I groused.
"Yeah, I can still do it," Ari assured easily and without uncertainty. Christ, was there anything he couldn't do? "I might bleed all over the drumset, though."
"It'll be badass," I chuckled, dusting off his shoulders as a way to encourage him—as if he needed the motivation.
Eden covered her mouth, trying her best not to laugh, but we could all hear the indiscreet snickering coming from her direction. She was clearly laughing at Ari and the comedic sight of the tampon string, hanging loose from his left nostril.
"What?" Ari questioned her, crossing his arms defensively, flaunting the bloody tampon proudly.
"Nothing, just..." She giggled, struggling to hold up a straight finger to point at Ari's nose.
"Wow, really?" Ari glared at her, shaking his head and pouting humorously.
"Sorry, you look great, you look great..." Lightheaded, Eden caught her breath and wiped away a tear from her eye, clearing her throat in the process. She reached for Ari's head and began to dizzily pet and ruffle his hair, still woozy from all the laughing.
Ari rolled his eyes and laughed, blowing out air through his nostrils—or, singular nostril. "You look great, too, babe," he complimented in return, grabbing the collar of her jacket and flirtatiously tugging on it.
I had to admit, she did look great (as usual). Eden was dressed in a thin white crop top, black denim shorts, and a blue, puffy, oversized, vintage Motorsports jacket. The outfit worked really well on her, as did any other type of clothing. She was, undoubtedly, the prettiest girl I've ever met. Rian paled in comparison, standing right beside her in his black shirt and pants. But then, I began to realize how less attracted I was to Eden as a person than I was to her appearance. Something I could've easily mistaken for romantic attraction back in March.
"Aw, shut up, babe," Eden jokingly flirted back, curling a loose strand of Ari's calico hair around her finger like a hair roller. Now that I know the full picture, I cannot believe I used to think they were dating. They're both so gay.
"...Ooookay, so," Rian awkwardly butted in, "we're up next. Come out whenever you're ready, Ari."
"See you out there, sexy bitch," Eden teased, seductively brushing her fingers against Ari's shoulder and dragging them down his arm as she stepped away from us.
"Bye, Mommy," Ari called out as Eden and Rian made their exit, though the sound of Eden's witch-cackling could still be heard from the hallway outside.
"...Wow," I spoke with bulged-out eyes, stunned and bewildered by everything I had just witnessed. "Remind me to never get between you two."
"I dunno, maybe you'd be into that," Ari smirked, hopping off the sink counter.
"...What does that mean?" I asked, sitting with my legs crossed as I watched Ari stretch and bend his limbs, kicking back into shape in preparation for our performance.
"Nothin'," Ari taunted with a playful tone of voice, facing his back to me as he reached his arms over his head, stretching out his body even more.
His shirt lifted a little as a result, and while I intended to avert my eyes, I found myself drawn to the sight of him. It was like he was unintentionally giving me a tiny peek below the surface. I could see the faint pattern of his fur, as well as some of his back muscles, as well as the tight, flexible waistband of his briefs. They were black and gray and sported the clothing brand's signature logo all around. He began to side-eye me from over his shoulder, a provocative and alluring splendor radiating from his sultry gaze.
Oh, Jesus...
"Mmh," he grunted slightly and lowered his arms, the sliver between his jeans and his shirt closing back up, much to my disappointment. He turned and faced the bathroom door and proceeded to walk out, only to glance over at me once more with fond, easy eyes.
Did he do all that on purpose..?
"Coming along, Northwest?" he called out after me, exiting the room and disappearing into the hallway, his fluffy tail following suit and leaving a heated impression on me. "Don't just sit there and drool..."
Realizing the stream of dribble that was pouring from my lip, I instantly shot up and wiped my mouth, severely humiliated.
➤ ➤ ➤
"Hello, everyone," I spoke fluidly into the microphone, hearing my voice channeling out through the speakers on either side of me. I stood before the crowded lobby, filled to the brim with tireless, caffeinated high schoolers and horny, drugged-up college students, all pent up and ready for the sweet release of energy that would come when the music eventually started up. "How we all doin' tonight?"
The crowd cheered in unison, holding up their fists and their drinks. Somehow, I was able to see everyone, even while standing on this small—only slightly elevated—makeshift stage in the dimly lit lobby: Right smack in the center of the room, you had the vivacious mosh pit, swarming with sweaty bodies and wild, carefree energy. Along the walls stood the parents, guarding the art and watching the show unfold in front of them. Near the back, I could see many familiar faces—Fiona snapping pictures with her camera—that one parent, Beau, whispering to some other parent, likely about us—those school girls from earlier, recording us with their iPhones, probably to post on their Instagram stories or whatever to save to their boring highlights—and last, but certainly not least, Levi in the corner by the merch table.
"This is our band..." I announced, awkwardly gesturing towards the rest of my bandmates onstage, who were still busy prepping and setting up their instruments as I stalled on the mic. "Um, we're'The Heartstrings'."
"HELL YEAH!" Some drunk guy in the middle of the pit shouted, prompting a few scattered whoops and cheers from the audience, who appeared to be just as lost as we were.
"Um... Yeah! So," I abruptly cleared my throat, causing the microphone feedback to ring loudly, irritating the eardrums of everyone in the room. "Sorry—So, anyway, we've got a great show for you tonight... Again, thank you, Jared, for inviting us to be a part of this—" I clasped my paws together as a gesture of thanks, holding them out to Jared, who stood to the side, nodding back politely. "—We really appreciate the recognition and the space you've given us—all of us—to perform real, live music, and... well, we really hope you guys enjoy what we have to offer. If not, then..." I shrugged and lazily tossed my arms in the air, making the crowd laugh. "...I dunno, thanks for coming anyway."
People continued to clap and cheer us on. It was good to have support coming in from every direction.
"Sooo..." I stepped away from the mic and looked back at my band members—Eden right behind me with her microphone in hand, Rian to the left of her with his bass, Ari sitting in front of his drumset, back in the very middle, and Torrence to the right with his guitar—and nodded at each of them, seeking their permission to carry on with our secretly planned surprise. They all grinned and nodded back, granting me their approval. I returned to the microphone and spoke: "Before we begin, we'd actually like to recognize someone very important in this room..."
I pointed my finger out to the fox standing by the merch table, directing everyone's attention to Levi, who was currently preoccupied with biting his nails. Everyone in the room turned their heads and stared at him, catching him off guard. He picked his head up and looked around spastically, frightened by the sudden spotlight we'd placed on him.
"This is Levi, our very good friend... and manager, technically," I introduced as Levi stood there, dumbfounded, gawking openly at his newfound audience. "And... it's his birthday tomorrow. So, what I'd like for us all to do, together, is to wish him a happy birthday. And sing him the birthday song."
People in the crowd began to shout out different celebratory phrases, such as the usual 'Happy birthday!' and 'Congratulations!' and all that. I held my fingertips against the strings of my guitar in the formation of a G chord, the first note of the classic birthday sing-along song.
"Alright, everyone, all together!" I began, pointing at Ari, who then clicked his drumsticks in conjunction, cueing us all in. "Three, two, one!"
Ari, Rian, Torrence, and I all played our own special arrangement of the birthday song with our instruments as everyone in the room sang in unison:
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Levi... Happy birthday to you!"
Levi hugged his arms around himself and pouted emotionally, looking around at the immense support being thrown at him from all angles. It looked like he was on the brink of tears. Everyone clapped and cheered for him; the closest people to him patted him on the back and blessed him with sweet, wishful messages. He held his hand to his heart and, even though he was all the way on the other side of the room, I could tell he was saying 'thank you' over and over, endlessly grateful. He then looked at us onstage and mouthed the phrase once more: 'Thank you'.
We all nodded back at him.
"Alright, let's get this thing started," I cheered energetically into the mic, getting the crowd all riled up and ready to mosh. I couldn't wait to see how they'd react to our music.
Tonight is gonna be fun. I just know it.