FSE

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6

Nomac sulked behind his espresso machines--Old Bessie I and II--and fiddled with the strings of his apron. The hulking, brew-spitting monstrosities blocked his few of any customers standing just on the other side of the counter, and he was glad about that. Well, not glad: appreciative. He hadn't slept; his muzzle was aching from being punched; and he had a headache that wouldn't go away. He knew he looked a mess, but he always looked a mess. He didn't want anyone to see him as much as he didn't want to see anyone.

"Hi there, what can I get for you today?"

The coyote tightened his apron, straightened his "You're being served by: Mac" badge, and flicked a cold gaze toward the cash register. His friend Matthias, a swarthy and muscly saber-tooth, was punching the orders this morning. Customer service wasn't really Mac's thing, and that's why he was always the one to make the drinks. He was good at it--fast. He liked the smell of the coffee grounds and syrups much more than attempting to strain his nonexistent peppy-muscles for a measly 30 cent upsell. Smiling? No way. He was more inclined to spew a "fuck off" than a "how may I help you?" The people who came in his workplace often deserved such a greeting. For instance...

His tail flicked at his ankles. A badger in a three-piece suit and toting a briefcase stood puffed up at the counter. Nomac knew his type: pomp and arrogant. The guy eyed the menu on the back wall and, without even acknowledging Matti standing eagerly at attention, spat out an order as if it had been preordained, like the big cat should have just known. He then pulled out his fucking phone and attempted to mentally block out the world around him. The coyote sneered. Matti told the guy his total and he reluctantly paid. The cat made the slightest physical contact when handing the badger's VISA back and the guy curled his lip as if disgusted. Ugh! Tainted by a laboring, minimum wage earning commoner! I shall have this hand removed at once!

_ Go fuck yourself,_ Nomac thought.

"Have a great day," Matti purred, scooting a cup down the counter for Nomac, smiling and brandishing his fearsome canines.

The badger just walked off without a reply. Nomac growled deep in his chest. Courtesy: what was it to anyone anymore? Damn, ungrateful customers. He snatched the cup and glanced at the name written on it: Walter. Wondrous name, Walter; it meant "commander of the army," Nomac recalled. He didn't know how he knew that, probably read it somewhere, but he knew he would have deserted if Walter were his commanding officer. He eyed the badger through the gap between Old Bessie I and II as he made his drink, resenting his attitude. He then realized he was suffering from a similar mental state as Walter and ignored the guy completely.

He always spent too much time and energy watching the people who came through the café, put too much effort in finding some fault in their character. It was a terrible habit, kind of creepy, but it passed the time. Not all of the people had sticks shoved up their asses, though. There were a few Nomac thoroughly enjoyed seeing every day, which surprised even him. And, of the seven other café employees at Albrecht Brothers bookstore, he dare not complain about getting to work with Matthias. They were friends outside of work (they had classes together at AU, and he was the singer in Vaughn's rock band thing so he came to their apartment a lot), but Nomac never tired of ogling the hunky feline. He was gay, too, but the big cat understood Nomac on a deeper level. They got along, and Mac didn't get tired of having him around like he did with most other furs. Well, for the most part. Matti did have his...quirks.

The coyote's ears flicked as there came a tapping from the register, then humming, then whistling. This was the escalating of the storm that was Matthias' bubbly, jubilant--and musical--personality. Nomac called it the "Fuji-Matti scale," FM-0, FM-1, FM-2, etc. Soon he'd be singing to himself (FM-3), and then he'd sing to no one in particular (FM-4). Nomac rolled his eyes as he finished up Walter's drink and Matti's whistling and beat on the counter strengthened. He risked getting an eyeful of the feline, because--even though he had rhythm and pitch--he had an even better body. And he liked to dance. Behind the counter. With much wiggling of the hips and bouncing of the butt. A nice butt. The dancing was FM-5, because Matti tended to make a winding path of destruction with his gyrating. Still, fun to watch. Nomac could stand to see some of that delicious destruction after last night.

Nomac finished the drink, slapped it down and bellowed "WALTER." But, apparently, Walter was too engrossed in a heated phone conversation to retrieve his coffee, leaning against the condiment bar with an air of condescension.

_ Whatever,_ Nomac thought. Back to butts. Well, back to asses. Nomac had a few questions to ask about Vaughn. Him and Matthias were close, after all.

"Hey, Matti," Nomac said, wiping off the steamer nozzle with a damp towel then swiping his hair out of his face. He gently rubbed his eyes, pretty sure that they were partially blackened by Vaughn's punch, and stifled a yawn. If he didn't know Matti as well as he did he would've slapped his cheeks to rosy them a bit, but that was a bit much. He wasn't trying to sleep with the big cat, wasn't trying to make an impression. He'd tried that a long time ago, but Vaughn had deemed the saber-tooth of limits_._

He swallowed another yawn and looked at Matti flicking his hips and short tail, muscles bunching and coiling beneath his apron, black polo and pants. The big cat was in stage FM-4, but the storm immediately subsided as he turned and grinned at Nomac. The coyote motioned for him to come over. Matti glanced to see if anyone was in line or appeared to be headed their way (all clear), then bounced over.

Matti stood a good six inches taller than Mac, and he bent over and jabbed a thumb to the right. "Can you believe that ass-hat?" he grunted, referring to the badger-commander. "Go eat a dick." He sniffed. "Preferably mine. I'd make a bitch out of him." His dagger-like canines glinted, curving down past his chin.

And that's why Nomac and the feline got along so well. They were both deviants in their own ways.

"No you wouldn't make him your bitch," Nomac said curtly.

Matti cocked an eyebrow, his mottled ears flicking. "Would too."

Nomac chuckled. "Honey, you can get as big as you want, but you know--at the end of the day--you like to take it up the ass." He watched the feline passively after that, crossing his wiry arms.

Matti couldn't hide his blush, but after a minute of stillness he shrugged and grinned. "Yeah, you're right."

"I know how to spot my own people," Nomac said, leaning against Bessie II.

"Oh, come on," the big cat whined. "You and me? We're not swishy."

"Don't have to be swishy to like it in the butt." He then tilted his head to the side, tail swaying, imagining Matti's ass bobbing before his eyes. "And you're swishier than you think, kitty-cat."

Matti began to retort (the two of them could argue about conflicts in the homosexual lifestyle until the sun rose and fell), but Nomac pinched the feline's mouth closed, fingers on his triangular nose and thumb under his chin.

"Not now." He released the cat's lethal jaws. "Tell me things."

"Okay. First off--" Bravely, he reached out his paws and ran them down Nomac's sides. The coyote immediately tensed. The fur on his neck hackled. After being berated about his figure last night, he was still incredibly touchy in the "don't be touchy" department. "You're too flippin' skinny," Matti said. He then tugged on Mac's apron strings and loosened them. "Don't tie your apron so damn tight if you're trying to hide that fact."

Nomac took a breath and shoved the feline's wandering paws away. "That's not what I meant."

Matthias didn't smile. "I know."

Nomac paused and squinted at the cat. "You talked to Vaughn didn't you?" He then growled and turned away as Matti's face became sympathetic. That was all he needed to know. His tail batted the big cat's knees. "That asshole."

"Don't be that way, Mac. He's just being a hardass because he's worried about you."

"He punched me in the face!"

That had been louder than Nomac anticipated. Matti held up a "Shush!" finger as customers sitting in the café looked toward them. He then pulled Nomac into the back through two swinging doors, standing half in the threshold so he could keep an eye on the register.

His eyes were wide when he spoke. "He hit you?"

Nomac's muzzle rippled as he pointed toward his slightly swollen nose and the bruises under his eyes. "Hello? You think I just woke up like this?"

"Your fur hides it, Mac." The feline glanced to the nonexistent line of customers then back to Mac. He crossed his arms. "He didn't tell me that he hit you."

"Are you surprised?"

Matti shrugged. "Well, yeah." He chuckled dryly. "You must have taken him to a whole new level of pissed."

Nomac shook his head and shifted his weight from one leg to the other. "When did you talk to him?"

The feline looked away awkwardly. "Uh, like, this morning."

"You've got to be kidding."

Matti held up his meaty paws defensively. "He just wanted to make sure you got here alright."

"What," Nomac barked. "Was he afraid I might pass out on the way here from a brain hemorrhage? From being socked? The fucker..."

"Mac," Matti sighed, placing his paws on the coyote's shoulders. "Just--"

"Just what?" he growled. He felt his heartbeat quickening and his hands felt clammy. He shoved Matti's paws away again and left moisture on the cat's fur. "Calm down?" He felt dizzy.

"Yes," Matti said sharply. "Please. I'm not picking a fight with you. You need to cool off."

Nomac went rigid. Then Matti watched as the coyote turned, padded quickly to the walk-in freezer where the frozen sweets from the bake case were stored, opened the door with a FFFFSSHPOP, and promptly stepped inside and shut himself in.

Matthias rolled his eyes. "Christ. That's not what I meant." He glanced over his shoulder where a friendly looking rabbit couple waved from the counter, their five kids hopping around the bake case excitedly. He smiled awkwardly at them, looked back toward the freezer, and then went to take their orders.

After closing the freezer door, Nomac promptly sat on an unopened box of peanut butter cookies and breathed in and out, over and over. The negative-degree air stung his nasal passages and throat, and soon the tips of his fingers were stiff and throbbing as if they'd been smashed by a hammer. His chest expanded rapidly as he looked around, counting the boxes of things and cataloguing them as a means of calming himself, like when he climbed the stairs of his apartment building. He screamed the things in his head as he tallied them: 2 boxes of chocolate chip cookies, 2 oatmeal-raisins, 1 sugar, 3 peanut butter! His paws were trembling. He wrapped his arms around himself as he felt a pang of anguish and fear and guilt writhing inside like motion sickness. 5 containers of blueberry muffins, 4 chocolate cupcakes, 4 vanilla! The feeling worked its way into his throat and he whimpered aloud. Pressure built in his skull and made his head swim. 2 chocolate cheesecakes, 2 classic, 1 red velvet!

And then he broke.

He knew what sadness was, but this was worse than that. He didn't know where it came from--somewhere deep, deep down inside him he guessed, where no light shown and there was only shadow--but it balled in his chest and burst forth like a vomiting heave.

He thought he'd been angry. Hadn't he been angry not moments before? Angry at Vaughn? Matthias? But for what?

Fat tears plopped onto the freezer floor and froze seconds later. Nomac couldn't breathe through the sobs.

Why had he been angry? He didn't see how he could have been now. Where'd this clarity come from? Vaughn was just worried and he'd treated him like shit; he'd gotten pissed at Matthias for simply showing concern. Nomac thought, I'm a fucking wreck. Then he thought, I hate this. What the fuck is wrong with me?

He coughed as an especially cold breath irritated his throat. The sobs stopped. Just as quickly as it began, the fit ended. He sat on his cookies and stared at the tiny disks of frozen tears around his feet, in shock of what had just happened to him. The sadness was numbed. No, not sadness.

Sorrow.

But it was still there. It was a weight in the pit of stomach and in his chest, in the very heart of his consciousness. It made him uneasy. It felt like it was crouching, ready to spring back at a moment's notice and tear him apart again.

That scared him.

Then the freezer door opened. Matthias was bathed in fluorescent light as he smiled softly down at the coyote. Nomac took a breath, and feeling returned to him.

"Better now?" the big cat asked.

Nomac nodded. He did feel better now that he thought about it.

"Good." Matti rubbed the back of his head, ruffling his mottled mane. "And, you know, I'm s--"

Nomac rose, wiping his eyes delicately. "Don't say it. You know how I despise apologies."

The big cat nodded. "Alright. But, you know, I am--regardless."

"Okay, okay." He attempted to shove past Matti, but the saber-tooth blocked the freezer door. Nomac stood with his paw on the cat's robust chest. The warmth coming from him was unbelievably pleasant under his palm. Nomac gazed into his friend's equally warm face. "Let me out." He patted Matti's right pec. "Work to do and stuff."

"I know," the tiger said, flexing his chest just because. "First, though."

And he grabbed Nomac and squeezed him in a hug. The coyote just grunted as his cold, skinny body absorbed the heat from warm, hunky tiger body. Goose bumps rose across his skin; why, he wasn't sure. He could guess, though, since he'd pitched a tent. As much as he liked being smooshed against a guy like Matti, he also found it--at that very moment--incredibly awkward seeing as he was being shown some decent affection for once from an honest person. An upright person. That made his erection upright, too, right? Metaphorically?

Polite chubbies: those could happen.

Matti let him go and stepped back. He then looked down and smirked, running a thumb down his left, curving canine. "Aww. I didn't know I could have that effect on you."

Nomac tried to flatten the bulge in his apron to no success. "Shut up, you're off limits."

"You sure you're alright?"

"Fine." The coyote looked up, tail swaying. He actually grinned. "For now."

The big cat seemed content with that. He pointed behind Nomac. "Well, bring your peanut butter cookie-bench. Some rabbits and their kids just cleaned us out and we need to bake." He then turned and walked off, wiggling his butt way too giddily, but he stopped at the door. "And we're going to have a talk after work. You're riding with me to school," he said.

"Okay," Nomac groaned, not really that upset about having a babysitter. He watched until the cat went out through the swinging doors, and then he smoothed his crotch area once more and picked up the box of cookies. He masked his emotions as best as he could, but it was hard. The customers would just have to live with his smile. He huffed and got a more secure grip on the cookie box and inwardly cursed rabbit children everywhere just because he felt like it.