Deadlines: Hicktown Hearts Part 5 by BrigantineW < Submission

Keywords male 1214437, canine 195392, feline 154333, gay 152268, male/male 127933, tiger 39390, sfw 29689, romance 9221, labrador 2474, gay couple 2106, story progression 2049, gay relationships 2015, story series 1975

—
Knox
—

Birds chirping outside my window pulled me from the deepest sleep I'd had in, well, I don't really remember when. I cracked open one eye and immediately shut it again; the sun was blasting its rays through the tiniest crack in the curtain and hitting me square in the face. Grumbling to myself, I rolled over to wake Nick up. "Rise and shine—"

Oh. He wasn't there. I sighed heavily as my lips curved into a frown. Deep down, I knew it was unrealistic of me to expect him to stay, but he'd blown my mind last night, and I wanted to cuddle it out, damn it! I sat up, shrugging off the blanket that had somehow gotten draped over me, and pulled on a fresh pair of boxers. When I opened the bedroom door, though, two sensations hit me at the same time: something sizzled and popped in a pan, and freshly baked... I couldn't tell what it was, but it wafted through the air and tantalized my nose. Whatever it was, it smelled divine.

On quiet feet, I padded to my kitchen. I heard the clank of a pan, and the sizzling sound grew louder and louder as I walked over. Finally turning the corner, I found Nick, and my heart damn near stopped. Nick had a pair of wireless headphones on, his hips swaying to the beat of some music only he heard as he hummed along. The oven light was glowing, showing there was something baking, and the sausage was cooking filled the air with savory spice. The scene was entirely domestic, and it made warmth bloom in my chest.

What really got to me, though, was what Nick had decided to wear. A pair of dark green boxer-briefs hugged his hips as he swayed, the color popping against his curly golden fur. I wanted to tear them off with my teeth. He looked so much more appetizing than whatever he was cooking.

The thing that pushed it over the top was the shirt he was wearing. It was a fire-engine red sleeveless t-shirt of mine. I usually used it to work on my cars at home, and while it was clean, there were grease stains and little holes all over the thing. I only ever wore it around the house, and I usually kept it lying around so I could pull it on easily. My face flushed and my ears folded back as I remembered I hadn't washed it in a couple of weeks, but that didn't seem to have bothered Nick at all. He was practically swimming in the shirt, one shoulder almost hanging out, its loose fabric swaying in time to his music and draped over the base of his wagging tail.

I couldn't keep myself away any more, sneaking up behind him and wrapping my arms around his waist to pull him into me. Nick squeaked, damn near jumping out of his skin, before twisting around and bopping me on the nose with a wooden spoon. "Fuck you, Knox!" he said with a laugh as he pulled off his headphones. "How the hell didn't I hear you coming? You're, like, a million times bigger than I am. What gives?"

"I'm a cat. We're sneaky." I licked his cheek, running my rough tongue through the fluffy fur there before pressing a soft kiss to the same spot. "Whatcha makin'?"

Nick turned to stir the sausage crumbles in my big skillet. "Biscuits and gravy. Figured it was easy enough, and my dorm-mate back in college taught me a few tricks to make a perfect gravy." He wiggled in my arms, leaning back to rest his head against my chest. "Don't get used to it, though. This is like, the second-best thing I can cook."

"Well, it smells incredible." Dipping my head down to the cleft of his neck, I took a deep breath through my nose. "Mmm, and so do you, babe. Did you bring your own bathroom supplies? You've gotta tell me what you use that makes you smell all like peaches and cinnamon."

He looked up at me and blinked. "Uh, I don't? I mean, I brought my own stuff, but it's all unscented. Mom was allergic to the perfumes in most soaps, so I didn't bring anything smelly with me." I blinked back, and we stared at each other in silence for a minute before Nick glanced away, his ears drooping as his tail started wagging slowly. "You think I smell like peaches and cinnamon?"

I nodded. "You always have. Even when we were kids. It's always driven me crazy; I can pick you out in a crowd every time just by following my nose." With a squeeze to Nick's waist, I moved to pluck the spoon from his paw and stirred the sausage again. "I wonder why that is? This is about done, by the way."

Nick twisted out of my grasp. With deft fingers, he picked up a chunk of butter and tossed it into the skillet before taking the spoon back from me with a huff. "You never paid attention in biology. They taught us this at like, the end of junior year." When the butter melted, he tossed in a little bowlful of flour that I hadn't seen and started stirring vigorously. "Predator species have powerful senses. Everyone has a unique scent, and it's different to every different person."

Now went in a big measuring cup of milk. Where had he found all these tools? I swear I didn't have all this stuff. "Like, my dad says mom smells like lavender, but I think she smells like freshly dried cotton sheets. And yeah, some of it is soaps and perfumes and body spray and stuff, but it's mostly biology."

"Huh." I let that marinate for a moment before plucking at the back of my old t-shirt. "Is that why you're wearing that gross old thing?"

Oho, that was it. His head dipped down, but his tail started going a thousand miles an hour. "You need to take a shower," Nick mumbled. "Go do that. Breakfast'll be ready when you get out."

I nipped at his exposed shoulder, growling in his ear. "Fine, but don't think you're getting out of this." He shivered deliciously against my chest, and turning to go, my tail pointedly brushed across his ass, which earned me a groan. I sauntered into the bathroom, quite pleased with myself, and turned on the water to let it heat.

Once it was steaming gently, I shucked off my underwear and stepped into the spray. I let the water stream down my body, enjoying the pressure of the massaging jet on the back of my neck and shoulders. Damn, I was glad I'd renovated the bathroom first. I soaked the rest of my fur before grabbing my body wash and lathered up to wash yesterday down the drain. I idly wondered what part of the house I should renovate next. The living room mostly just needed a ceiling fan, and my bedroom had too much stuff in it to work on. The kitchen...? Kitchen might work, I thought. Nick seems to like cooking. Bet he'd make some real tasty—

I froze, front half covered in foamy suds. Nick... It had only been like, three days, but I was already thinking like he was going to stay long term. Remembering that he was only here for the month was hard to do when we fit together so easily in my little home, in my cheap, lumpy mattress. When he slotted just right, burning hot, into my arms, making him look so small, so fragile. So... mine. And the painful thought hit me right in the chest, squeezing my heart in a vise.

One month didn't seem like enough. No, it definitely wasn't enough! My stupid ass had ruined this for ten fucking years, and now that I finally knew what I wanted, finally had Nick in my life again, we had a damn time limit?

The steam puffed in thick, foggy clouds around me, making it hard to breathe. That had to be why I was suddenly gasping for breath, right? And the shaking that made me drop the soap bottle was because I hadn't eaten, right?

Liar, my brain offered helpfully.

The skin beneath my fur itched from the suds sitting too long, so I turned to rinse them off, then let my head hang under the water, letting the heavy jets pound against me.

What was I even thinking? It wasn't like I'd ever had a shot at keeping him in my life, anyway. He was better than this town, better than the small-minded busybodies. He was better than Mavis deserved.

And he was better than me, too.

Mister big-city lawyer, with his fancy job, and his fancy apartment, and his fancy convertible. His big ol' fancy words, and his big ol' fancy dreams. "Face it, Knox," I mumbled, as my eyes burned—must've got soap in `em or something. "You'd only hold him back if he stayed."

But as much as my thoughts wanted to swirl around that sour, shadowy place they'd fallen into, I refused to stay there. Because Nick, like he did so many times these past few days, rose to the surface of my mind. His smiling face when I gave him those cookies. The way he looked to me for comfort when he'd fought with his parents, and the fact he'd fought them for me.

The way he tasted on my tongue when I kissed him the first time, and the power behind his tiny frame when he used his whole body to kiss me back.

Peaches and cinnamon, laying in my bed, using my chest as his pillow.

My whole body jolted as I shot upright, banging my head against the shower head. I cursed under my breath, rubbing the spot as I allowed myself a cautious smile. No way, Nicholas Southwell. That smile grew into a deep belly laugh, and I let a few tears slide down my cheeks to disappear into the already wet fur there. No way am I letting you go. Now that I have you, I'm never gonna let you go.

Not without a damn fight.

Hell, I'll fight this whole town for you. Damn the shop. Damn this house. Damn this small-ass town. I don't need any of it.

But I don't think I can do without you any more than I could do without breathing.

Nick, I'm coming for you, and I'm playing for keeps.

Brimming with a new purpose, I shut off the water and turned on the new fur dryer I'd had installed just a few months ago. Scrubbing at my fur with my fingers helped dry me faster, and I pulled my boxers back on before smoothing everything down and heading back to the kitchen. Cooked sausage and spicy gravy hit my nose the second I hit the hallway. "Smells great, Nick! Is it ready—"

The sight in my kitchen froze me right in my tracks. Nick was oblivious to the world around him, hips swaying to some upbeat song he was humming. Off-key, of course—Nick loved singing, even though he and everyone else knew he couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. The kitchen was a mess, too. Every mixing bowl I had was on the counters, along with a biscuit cutter I didn't even know I had. My one and only sheet pan rested on the table, filled with biscuits just a couple shades too dark to be golden brown. And to top it all off, a fine coating of flour coated just about everything I owned. The whole mess was wholesome as fuck. I let out a strangled noise when I tried to say something, causing Nick to jump and turn to face me.

"Oh, hey! You're finally out of the shower." He had a dusting of flour too, from his cheek all the way down his borrowed shirt, and the look on his face shook me to my core. His smile was different from any of the ones I'd ever seen before. This one was for me, and only me, new and powerful and full of easy comfort. Nick came up with a whole new expression just to show me he cared.

Holy fuck. That's it. I'm never letting you go. No-one else gets to see that smile.

It might actually kill me if they did.

If he noticed my slack-jawed expression, he was kind enough not to mention it. Actually, his ears were back, and he raised a claw to scratch at his cheek. "Umm, yeah... sorry for the mess. I had to look up a biscuit recipe on my phone, and I kinda exploded your kitchen. Don't worry though, I'll clean up after we—woah! Knox, what...?!"

One, two, three long steps, and I was in front of Nick, whirling him around to mold him to my chest as I slammed my lips against his in a claiming kiss. His arms flailed a bit before automatically wrapping around the back of my neck, letting me support him as he melted against me. I got a little aggressive with it too, if I'm honest, shoving my tongue into his muzzle with all the gentleness and tact of a wrecking ball. When I finally let him up for air, a deep, satisfied rumble boomed from my chest at the dazed and dopey grin I'd stuck him with.

"Doesn't matter," I growled. "It's perfect. Everything's perfect." Another quick peck, and then I gave his nose a little lick. "You're perfect, babe. Love you."

Nick rubbed a paw over his nose, wrinkling it as he chuckled. "Love you too, babe." It took him squirming for a minute before I remembered he was cooking, and I had to let him go. He flapped a hand at me. "G'wan, sit. Breakfast is basically ready. I'll bring you a plate."

My stomach growled, and I nodded silently as I hurried over and pulled out a chair, where a tall glass of orange juice and some silverware were waiting for me. A matching set lay opposite me on the table, and that warm, fuzzy, familiar feeling spread in my gut.

"No, Nick," I whispered, softly enough that I knew he wouldn't hear me. "I mean, I love you forever."

—
Nick
—

Well, I made way too many damn biscuits, and they were a little over-baked, but honestly? Not too bad, if I do say so myself. The gravy was damn near perfect—I'm not exaggerating when I say it was my best ever. Knox heaped on the praise as he scarfed down a pile biscuits drenched in rich creamy gravy, and I beamed as I worked on the identical, but smaller, plate I'd made for myself. Did you know smiling like a lunatic makes it hard to get food into your mouth? I didn't, but I do now.

Knox went back for seconds after I'd assured him I didn't need more. Okay, so I could've put away a couple more, but the man was literally twice my size. If I let myself eat as much as he did, I'd be round as a bowling ball.

So, I relaxed in my chair, sipping on the last of my juice, watching Knox eat. He was slower this time, taking small bites and savoring each one. My heart thumped wildly in my chest, and that stupid grin that had never left my face somehow grew even wider. God-damn, I love this man.

And that's what finally took the edge off my smile. Sure, I loved him; I didn't doubt that. Fuck, if I thought about it, I'd probably loved him all throughout high school, too, bullying be damned. But really, we only met partway through sophomore year, and we'd stopped being friends when we were seniors. Then I left, and I hadn't talked to him at all for ten years.

Were we moving too fast? Hell, I'd only been in town three days, and I'd basically moved in and started playing house. I enjoyed being domestic with him, sure, and I liked the way he said `I love you' with his eyes and his lips and his body, not just his words. And it was a real big ego boost that the sight of naked, scrawny old me made him harder'n nails. I'd never even realized it was possible for someone to leak that much...

It had been so easy to slip into this new life with Knox. Maybe too easy. I set my glass down and shifted in my seat, the worn-out padding on the chair suddenly uncomfortable, my skin a little too tight. That darn tiger set my heart on fire, made my nerves sing, made me weak at the knees at the mere sight of him.

Three days. Is that enough to tell if this'll last?

This is moving so fast. Is this going to be forever? Or just a fun, extended vacation? What does he want from this?

Shit. What do I want from this?

I wasn't entirely certain, but the one thing I knew was that I wanted to be here for him, like he was there for me back in high school. Like he'd been there for me now, with my busted car, and taking me in after my parents flipped. Whether he wants a friend, or a fuckbuddy, or a real, lasting relationship, I'll take whatever he gives me. But it's definitely new to him, so I've got to slow it down. No, it's worse than that - I have to let Knox set the pace on this thing.

It's going to kill me if he doesn't choose me in the end.

I had less than a month to figure it out, and suddenly staring down the barrel of that deadline tied my stomach in complicated knots. The last remaining bite of biscuit on my plate squidged around, growing cold as I nudged it with my fork.

Should I say something to Knox? He's been pretty easygoing, but if he's not already doubting... well, us, it might only make him doubt things too, and that might blow this entire relationship before it even really starts. But if I don't tell him, I think I need to tell someone, at least. But who? The only other person I could even sort of call a friend is Clark, and I literally just broke his heart. But—

A shadow fell over my bowed head, and I jumped, looking up to see Knox looming over me from behind. Two massive mitts came to rest on my shoulders, where he squeezed and rubbed my tense muscles. It was quite effective at driving all thoughts from my brain, and I sank against him with a very undignified moan. "Shit, Knox, that's... ooh, right there..."

He chuckled, a deep, rough rumble, and continued kneading me for a few more minutes before sliding his paws up to my cheeks and tilting my head back. Then he bent down, lowered his face to mine, and kissed me. It was a bit weird, making out with him all upside-down like that, but Knox's slow, sweet lips danced with mine, and I lost myself, tasting the warm breakfast spices on his tongue. When he stopped to let me up for air, there was a fond sparkle in his eyes that made me glad I was sitting down, because it would've turned my legs to jelly.

"I gotta go into the shop for a bit, babe. Theres some paperwork I have to do, and I need to pick up that contract if you're going to take a look at it." Knox's thumbs rubbed tenderly over my cheekbones a few times before he shifted, patting me on the head before standing up. "You gonna make it home alone today?"

"Uh..." It took some rapid blinking and a couple shakes of my head to bring my love-drunk brain back online. "Oh. Yeah, I should be good. There's plenty of food, I have my laptop, and I don't have to go anywhere." I thought for a moment. "Oh! What're you going to wear to the reunion tonight? Want me to iron something for you?"

Knox let out a deep belly laugh. I swear it shook the house, it was so loud. "Nick, I don't even own an iron, let alone have any clothes it'd be worth using it on. I was just gonna wear a flannel—one with sleeves, but I'll roll them up—and some jeans. If ya really want, chuck 'em in the dryer for like, fifteen minutes. That'll knock out the worst wrinkles."

"Note to self," I snarked at him, "buy my uncultured, backwater, hick tiger an iron."

He laughed again as I pushed out the chair to stand. When I turned to face him, he was grinning like he'd won some kind of prize. Grabbing me by my too-big, borrowed shirt, Knox yanked me forward and hugged me so tight I think I felt some bones pop. "Damn right I'm your tiger," he whispered in my ear. "And don't you go on forgetting that."

Even as I nuzzled into that oh-so-soft puff of white chest fur (seriously, I needed to get in his shower and see what products he was using), I felt a clench of doubt creeping back into the pit of my stomach. Did he understand what he was saying? Know how much I wanted to be out with him, walking the city hand in hand, cuddling together on a picnic blanket in the park? I wanted to be a couple, damn it, but I couldn't tell him that, because what if he doesn't? He says he loves me now, but what if he changes his mind?

What if I upended - no, ruined his life here in Mavis for something that isn't even `until death do us part'?

My phone started buzzing on the counter, alerting me to a phone call. Knox moved to pull away. "Oh, you should get that - "

I battened on with all the strength my arms could muster. When I spoke, I hated the way there was a slight tremble in my words. "No. Please, would you... please hold me? For just a minute more?"

Knox stiffened oddly at my request, but quickly moved to wrap me up in his beefy arms again. He lingered, giving me way more than just the minute I asked for, but when my phone buzzed again, he gently, kindly, pushed me away. "Go check your phone. I gotta get dressed and head in anyway." With a friendly shove, he pushed me toward the kitchen. "There'll be more cuddles later. Promise."

"Yeah," I whispered. "Yeah, okay." I turned to watch him go, the massive man's built shoulders and ass swaying in time with each step. Damn, that tiger is fine...

My phone buzzed a third time, and with a sigh, I finally picked it up. My eyes widened when I saw three missed texts from - Dad?!

Dad: Nick, you around?

Dad: Nick, you need to answer me.

Dad: We need to talk.

My tongue went numb. Had something happened to mom? No, surely he'd have called me if it was that urgent. But why the texts? Why wouldn't dad just call, if he wanted to talk? And for that matter, why now?

Knox came back into the kitchen to give me a peck on the cheek before he headed out, and I heard that old truck roar to life when he started it. I still had my phone in one paw, and I stared at it like if I just glared hard enough, it might start making some damn sense. Since that wasn't getting me anywhere, I tapped the screen and swiped with my thumb to create a reply.

Me: Hey, Dad. What's up?

—
Knox
—

The drive to the shop was even shorter than usual. I mean, it still took fifteen minutes, but it flew by because I had a certain golden-furred canine locked into my thoughts, still wearing my old shirt and covered in flour. Shit, just thinking about him made my heart thump away, and a warm fuzzy glow filled me to bursting inside. I swear I was floating as I hopped out of my truck and walked the few feet to the back door.

If I hadn't had my head in the clouds, I'd have noticed that every single one of my employees parked outside.

I opened the door, and it chimed, and five pairs of eyes swiveled from the coffeepot to lock onto me. They let me get inside, at least, before they swarmed me like ants on an ice cream cone.

Casey, the loudmouth coon hound, punched me in the shoulder. "Damn, son, I knew tigers liked marking their territory, but in public? Dude!"

I chuckled weakly. "Marking my... Nick? It's not like that, man, I - "

"And I can't believe you proposed to him?! In the middle of Nancy's?!"

That came from Hank, my tire guy. My face heated, and if it weren't for the fact he looked so damn concerned, I'd have thought he was giving me shit. "W-What? I didn't propose to him! What the fuck?"

More questions flooded in, so thick and fast that I couldn't even really respond to any of them. Were the walls always so small in here? And why was it so fucking hot? Was the A/C broken? I was sweating bullets over here, not to mention that it was getting kinda hard to breathe.

Holy fuck.

Why can't I breathe?!

"Okay, guys, ease up!" A clear, strong voice cut through the crowd, all eyes swiveling to him. Marcus. "Bossman's got shit to do, and so do y'all. We open in thirty. Get your shit together!"

There was a lot of angry grumbling, but the guys let Marcus grab me by the elbow and haul my ass into the office. He all but threw me into my torn-up swivel chair, and opened my mini-fridge to pull out two bottles of ice-cold water before cracking one open and handing it to me. "Breathe, boss. You're all right. Just breathe."

I panted, trying to get my bearings. What the hell was going on with me? My heart rate was calming down, and the sweat that had soaked me was going clammy. "That..." I swallowed. Hard. "That fuckin' sucked."

"They're just excited," Marcus said soothingly. "And a little worried about you. They're good guys, though. We've all got your back."

"Excited?" Swiping the back of my paw across my forehead, I dove into my desk for the stack of takeout napkins I kept there and used a pawful to mop at the back of my neck. "Excited for what? To tell everyone that I fell for the kid I used to bully? The one who grew up smart, and funny, and hot as fuck, and... and got a whole god-damn law degree, and came back to—" I choked, my mind racing. To what, exactly? He'd come back for the reunion, but why? It definitely wasn't for me, that's for damn sure.

Fuck. What are we even doing?

The sudden touch of Marcus' paw on my forearm made me jump. He flinched, but kept a small smile on his face. "I hope that someday, I find someone who stirs me up as much as this Nick guy does you. You're losing your damn mind." He gave me a couple of reassuring pats. "The guys are buyin' into the rumor mill, that's all. I'll get them to calm down, but why don't you tell me the real story, hey?"

So I sagged into my chair, put my head in my hands, and let it all out. How Nick was so pissed at me to begin with, how he wanted nothing to do with me. How I'd begged him to give me a chance. The cookies and our drunken first kiss. All the other kisses I'd stolen after that, the times he held me together when everything was falling apart, the fear that I was going to lose him after this month was up.

And my decision to fight a losing battle for the only man I'd ever loved.

Fuck it, I loved him. It wasn't just something I'd been saying in the heat of the moment; I loved him. I loved his laugh, his smile, the way he felt in my arms. Needed him, like I needed food, or water, or even air. I'd never felt this way about anyone before, and it came on hard and fast and unexpectedly, a freefall off a rope swing with the lake fast approaching.

"What do I do?" I whispered to Marcus, tears misting my eyes.

He shrugged. "I dunno, man. You're like, ten years older than me, you think I have answers you don't?"

I barked out a wet laugh. "Well, you're no help."

Marcus leaned in to clap me on the shoulder. "Never said I was!" Then he leaned back and let out a long sigh. "Have you, like, talked to him about any of this?"

I shook my head quickly. "No! I can't do that! If he doesn't feel the same way, I'll just lose him even faster - ow!"

The stoat flicked me on the nose. "This isn't some cheap movie. Actual people talk about their actual problems with each other. I'm not the one you oughta be telling all this to!" And he met my eyes meaningfully.

I just stared at him numbly. Deep down, I knew he was right.

But not today. I'm not ready to do it today...

We both jumped when my phone buzzed. I pulled it out, grateful for the distraction until I saw who the text was from. "Fuck," I muttered. "It's Nick."

"Well, open it!" Marcus didn't wait for me, though, snatching my phone from my hand and swiping into the message. I lunged across my desk, knocking over a coffee mug full of pens trying to get it back, but he laughed and danced backward out of my reach. "He says, `Lunch, Suzy's, one'. Ooh, cryptic!" His thumbs danced as he tapped out a reply for me.

I stalked around my desk and plucked it away, but he'd already sent the message.

Me: "Meet you there. Need to talk."

"You bastard," I growled, but before I throttled him, another messaged buzzed in.

Nick: "Yeah, we do."

My stomach sank. "Fuck. What does that mean?!"

Marcus bopped me on the nose, making me sneeze. "It means you two need to talk. Like grown-ups. So meet him for lunch, bossman. It's not as hard as you're making it out to be."

I gaped at him. "But... but I..."

"Nope!" The stoat raised a paw in front of my muzzle. "You're going to lunch with your boyfriend, and you're going to tell him all your scary little insecurities, and he's going to laugh and cry and fall into your arms, and then you're going to live happily ever after."

That made me blink. "It's that easy?"

He nodded. "The big mouse movie conglomerate wouldn't lie to me, would they?" He punched me on the shoulder. "So it's probably gonna be a little harder than that, yeah. But tell me this..." He stretched up on his tiptoes to look me square in the eyes. "Is he worth it?"

My brain conjured an image of Nick from this morning, dancing and singing while he cooked breakfast in my kitchen, carefree and relaxed in a space that we shared, the air smelling like sausage and biscuits and him.

Peaches and cinnamon.

"Yeah," I whispered. "Yeah, he's worth it."

—

He's worth it, I reminded myself, checking my hair in the rearview mirror. I'd been sitting in the parking lot at Suzy's for about five minutes, waiting for the clock to read exactly one on the dot to go inside. I glanced at my flannel that I'd worn under my coveralls and picked a few pieces of lint off it.

Was I going crazy? Definitely. Was that knowledge helpful? Not really.

The clock ticked over, and I climbed out of the truck, my limbs moving stiffly as I trudged toward the familiar door. It really hadn't changed since we were kids - hell, if I looked closely, I swear the dent I'd made in the doorframe after graduation was still there, from when I banged the edge of the last trophy I'd ever won into it.

This place had a lot of history. Mine, and Nick's too.

It's going to have a little more in a moment, I told myself. I'm gonna tell him. Swear I'm gonna tell him...

I repeated it like a mantra as I walked in. Suzy's was busy, just finishing up the lunch rush, and the clink of dishes, the buzz of conversations, and the aroma of greasy fried foods soothed my jangling nerves. Suzy looked up from her podium where she tapped away at a tablet, the only modern convenience she'd ever let herself have. Those sharp eyes met mine, and for the first time in my life, her eyes softened when she looked at me.

Her voice was warm and soothing, too, which was even more unsettling. "Back corner. Your guy's usual booth," she whispered, jerking her chin in that direction.

I nodded, teeth on edge and more than a little creeped out. Suzy was generally polite, but she wasn't nice. I sidled toward the back of the restaurant, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I saw Nick first, sitting in the far booth with his arms folded across his chest and wearing the dirtiest scowl I'd ever seen. His eyes met mine, and his face brightened somewhat, but then someone I hadn't noticed sitting across from him turned to face me.

Fuck. I froze in my tracks, torn between jumping to protect Nick and turning tail to run.

"M-M-Mr. Southwell, sir?" I stammered, the breath rushing out of me like I got kicked in the stomach.

He just pointed to the seat next to Nick. "Sit down, son." The tone of voice he used was flat and stern, and left no room for argument.

I swallowed hard, feeling for all the world like I was eighteen and not twenty-eight as I plunked my ass down next to my golden-furred love. We stared at each other, Mr. Southwell's eyes calculating, my back stiff as a board and my shoulders up around my ears. My tail twitched behind me like a thing possessed.

He frowned, letting out a huff as he set his paws on the table.

"We'd best have a chat about you and my boy, Knox. Now."

—
Nick
—

How the hell did I get here?

My dad texted me this morning saying we needed to talk. That was fine, and kinda fair after I basically up and left them after the fight over Knox.

Meet at Suzy's for lunch. Yeah, I could manage that.

Bring Knox. And those words had sunk like lead into my belly. I didn't dare hope my parents had come around, not yet. Was he just going to try breaking us up again?

I might've had my doubts, but I wasn't about to let Knox go without a fight. Not yet, anyway.

So when he leveled that look at Knox, the one that said, `You're in big trouble, kid,' and growled at him, well. My hackles went up, and I growled right back.

"Knock it off, dad. We didn't have to be here. Be nice, or get out."

That only made his frown deepen. He continued his stare-down with Knox, who shifted uncomfortably as Dad addressed me. "Nicky, this is important. Stay quiet and - "

Memories flashed back to me of Mom and Dad doing damage control after my coming out. I remembered all the times they told me to just, 'stay quiet, let Mom and Dad do all the talking.' And it occurred to me then just how much of my story I'd let them write for me.

And it pissed me off.

Slamming my paws on the table, I made the three tall glasses of lemonade he'd ordered jump and wobble precariously. "I'm not gonna stay out of it! You're treating me like a child, and you're treating Knox like a villain, and I will not let you do that!"

Until Knox reached under the table to squeeze my knee, I hadn't even realized I was panting in rage. I let myself relax against his side. "Nick, it's okay," he said, voice low and rumbly in a way that made me shiver. "He doesn't know me. Not yet, anyway. And I, uh, kinda expected this." Knox squared his shoulders, keeping his rough paw on my knee as he faced down the grizzled, wiry farmer that was my father. "Mr. Southwell, I—"

"Richard," he muttered. Knox fumbled at that, stuttering to a halt. Dad looked away, scratching at one cheek with a claw. "You're grown. An adult. You can call me Richard."

"T-thanks." Knox took another deep breath, betraying his inner nerves. "Richard. I'm sorry. I treated Nick something awful in the past, but a lot has changed for me. For us. Can I... no. I want to show you that."

Dad snorted. "You think this is enough to convince me you've changed? This little play you're puttin' on here? Playing house with my son?" Knox flinched, and something inside me winced with him. "You're no good for him. And what's he supposed to do now? Come back to Mavis, after he fought so hard to get out the first time? Or are you going to move back with him?" He scoffed. "What happens once you get him out of your system, huh?" Dad leaned in and glowered at my man. "What happens when you break his heart a second time, you little shit?"

And that made my gut clench. Knox had been trying so damn hard. He took me on a date, held me at night, and he'd claimed me in front of God and everybody. Was that enough?

He's opened up so much. It's been beautiful, seeing him bloom in front of my eyes. Can I really let him go?

I looked up at Knox, who sat - jaw clenched, eyes fixed on my dad - as he said unflinchingly, "You won't have to worry about me if I break his heart a second time. I don't think I'd survive it if I did." Knox's paw left my knee as he snaked his arm around my shoulders and squeezed me possessively.

A tear leaked from my eye when he kissed the top of my head and whispered, "I barely made it the first time."

Knox just sat there, breathing into the top of my head, my hair fluttering as he exhaled. Dad sank back into the booth and let out a gusty sigh. "You boys always were damn cute together."

That made my ears perk up. "Dad? What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "Me n' Connie used to have a bet going on when you two were gonna get together. Oh, don't look so surprised," Dad grumbled. "It was as sure as the changing of the leaves in fall. You were obsessed with the boy, and he just hadn't figured it out yet."

I blinked. "Who won the bet, then?"

Dad laughed then, a full belly laugh that shook the table and startled me and Knox. "Old Mrs. Wyrdmott! I owe her a bushel of our apples and twenty bucks."

Knox gaped at my dad. "Mrs. Wyrdmott? She knew too?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Few of our friends did. Sorry, by the way, kid," Dad said, reaching out and ruffling Knox's hair like my boyfriend was a rowdy teenager still. "I was pretty pissed at you. Still am, honestly. But Nicky's got a good head on his shoulders. Connie's gonna be a tougher nut to crack, but I'll talk to her." He flagged down Veronica, the server who helped us on our first date. "Let's get you boys some food, okay? I'm dyin' for Suzy's pot roast lunch platter."

The emotional whiplash had me reeling. I stared at the table while Dad ordered, and he let Knox order us two of the same. I was vaguely aware of them chatting, Knox's tone gradually becoming less stilted and more conversational as he and Dad just shot the shit together.

"Dad?" I whispered, still staring down at the formica tabletop.

"Huh? What's up, champ?" The food arrived right at that moment, Veronica and a young female otter I didn't recognize setting plates and refills of lemonade in front of us.

Do I want an audience for this?

Fuck it. If Knox can be brave enough to claim me in front of the whole town...

"Dad, I love him," I blurted out, snapping my eyes to my father as I hugged Knox close with an arm around his waist. "Yeah, things are still new, and I don't know how this ends, but I wanna fuckin' try." I turned my gaze upward to Knox, who looked down at me like I was something precious, something to treasure, to cherish. "Knox, I want to figure this all out. I want us to work. And we're in the middle of Suzy's and it's not the right time and I sound like a crazy person, but—"

Knox shut me up with a hot, demanding kiss to my lips. I whimpered, pressing up into him and throwing my arms around his thick neck to keep him close.

"You know I want that too, baby," Knox murmured when we broke apart. "I want that so fuckin' bad."

"Really? In front of my pot roast?" Both of us jumped, falling back to reality as we turned to face my dad, who wore a smirk. "You kids sure didn't get to fuck it out of your systems when you were in high school—"

"Dad! What the fuck?!"

"—but can you stop sucking face long enough to eat lunch, maybe?" My ears and cheeks were blazing at being called out, but Knox just laughed awkwardly and rubbed at the back of his neck. I turned to see Veronica and the otter girl blushing and whispering excitedly, with the otter tapping away at her cellphone.

I untwisted myself from around my massive tiger to look at the pot roast piled high on two scoops of mashed potatoes and swimming in gravy with a side of garlicky green beans.

"Yeah, dad." I took my spoon and fished up a bite. "Lunch with you and Knox."

My dad and my boyfriend sharing a meal together with me.

Why did that make me so fucking happy?

Whatever. I don't care about the whys and hows. This right here is something special.

Thank God I get to have this. I've waited ten long years for something this good, this right.

Knox's shoulder bumped against mine, and I looked up to see the man I love grinning down at me.

There were green beans in his teeth. When he leaned in to kiss me, I savored him on my tongue.

Yes, even the garlic.

My God.

I hope this never ends.

—
To Be Continued...
—

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Deadlines: Hicktown Hearts Part 5

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