Guns 'N' Boners

Indeed, it was a simple time. It was a better time. A time where there was no sneaking around. No hiding in bedrooms, bathroom stalls, or Kenny Chesney's tour bus...

Good God, weed was fun.

And yet, while the simple, better time might have been easier, the hard times were the most fun. The thrill of getting caught, the sneaking, Kenny Chesney's tour bus...

Weed was such fun.

Fox McCloud had never contemplated doing drugs before. In fact, he'd always been very opposed to them. He'd arrested people who killed their hookers during the heroin rush. His team had brought in those who robbed convenience stores with noses red from the pressures of sniffing cocaine. 'It was just pot,' Wolf had told him. 'It's better for you than cigarettes,' the hopeful lupine had added it. And so, afraid of being stuck in a rut, took his first hit. So sure, it made them hornier, and it made them act stupid, and it made them laugh for hours on end about absolutely nothing. No major damage. He'd never had fun with Falco like this. Not once that he could recall. Falco had that 'reformed badass' sense of fun. He knew how he used to have fun. Fox guessed that having less fun was the consequence of turning a new leaf.

Now Fox sat alone in his room, a joint held lazily between his two strongest points. It was a time of contemplation, worrying...

...and trying to forget about it.

That's why he sat there, doing something he never would have done before meeting Wolf. The vulpine was actually surprised that the weed was making him think clearer. There was a strong grasp present of the situation at hand. It was pretty dire. Catastrophic, even. It came with the fear that if a decision wasn't made soon, a tear could be ripped open in the very fabric of the universe.

"I want cookies."

Wolf had also introduced him to Oreos, a wondrous piece of magic that he was amazed he'd never had before. Fishing around in this bedside table, he found the bag and struggled to tear it out amongst the old photos, weaponry, and the ring that just fell on the floor.

He clutched the bag of cookies tightly, staring at the bomb that was now resting lazily on the steel floor. It stared back, smirking in a defiant matter.

I should crush it right now.

The ring was beautiful, he had to admit. Big, shiny, glittering stone. Solid gold band.

What wasn't to love about it? Why, who it was from, of course.

What a strange time be almost caught having an affair. Why would that idiot Falco give him a proposal like that when he had his secret lover hiding underneath his bed?

To be fair, Falco had no idea about what was hiding under the bed.

Still, what a jackass!

Carefully, as if handling hot flame, he scooped up the ring off the ground and dropped rather unceremoniously into his bedside table and slammed it shut. Even with the damned object out of his view, it was still lingering behind his eyelids.

(Close your eyes come on I dare you)

He stuffed and Oreo into his mouth, crushing it quickly with his sharp mandibles. Just then, he remembered what Wolf told him...

(Gotta open it and like the cream its better that way)

This was a useful piece of information, and yes, it was better that way. Even as the white cream slid down his throat, it occured to him that Wolf's instructions on how to eat an Oreo weren't the memory he was trying to conjure up. It had been pertaining to the 'relationship' they had. Affair. Whatever it wanted to known as. There was a vague recollection of taking a risky trip to a cafe one sunny day. They sat at an outdoors table, more to keep an eye out for Falco than anything.

"Wolf, this is making me extremely nervous."

"I just wanted to have lunch with you for once."

"I know, it's just..."

"Don't worry about it. We aren't gonna get caught. Can you just enjoy some food with me? Fucking please?"

Fox just sighed and poked miserably at the linguine he'd been brought.

One look at that face made Wolf's heart sink with guilt. It was a new feeling, one that the vulpine had brought out in him.

(Kindness patience compassion goodhearted)

"This whole Falco thing is really scaring isn't it..." Wolf looked down at his feet through the glass table.

"Yeah..."

"You know, you could just..." Wolf gulped down a nervous ball that had lodged itself in his throat. "...break up with him?"

Fox's head snapped up at that, a noodle caught between his lips. It was comical, but Wolf wasn't laughing. Fox noticed this, and sucked it into his mouth before speaking further.

"Wolf, I can't do it and you're aware of that."

"Well, why the hell not? Obviously you weren't supposed to be with him if you're sneaking around with me!"

"Shut up, Wolf! The only reason I'm even in public with you is because the press doesn't care what I do anymore!"

"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?"

"If people..." Fox looked around the public cafe, where people chatted aimably, paying them no mind. "If my team finds out what we're doing, what do you think that will mean for me? Especially concerning Falco!"

"I..."

"Falco gives me stability, and I love him but I hate being with him so much. Don't you think I wish that I could be with you instead? But for the sake of my team, I have to be with Falco."

"So, I'm just a side dish?" Wolf asked, sounding almost calm.

"Pretty much."

Wolf grabbed his paw.

In the present, a chill ran down Fox's spine. This was the moment. This was what he needed to hear.

(If you ever need me or Falco finds out about us or whatever and you need to go I'll run to the ends of the universe with you)

Cheesy though it sounded, it gave the vulpine a weird sense of comfort. As if he had x-ray vision, he looked at the sneering ring that was hiding in the bedside table. That ring meant a life of stability, calm, relative comfort.

(disgust sex-less marriage disdain divorce team destruction meaningless conversation)

Falco paced restlessly in his room, straining his ears, hoping, praying, Fox would come and tell him 'YES!' Then they would hug and kiss and fuck and his life was shaping up to be perfect. He couldn't contain his excitement for that wonderful life that was on its way.

There it was! Fox's acceptance... in form of footsteps!

"...I'm just saying, that tournament was stupid... Fox definitely should have won!"

"No doubt, I bet that Samus chick was on steroids or something."

"I doubt that. For someone on steroids, she's got nice..."

The voices of Peppy and Slippy faded off in the opposite direction they came. Falco resisted a deep growl that was forming in his throat. Damn it! When was that vulpine going to come tell him 'yes'?

His feeling of elation was starting to descend. He became more and more worried as the wall clock moved past noon. Fox wasn't having second thoughts was he? Did he even have first thoughts...?

"Hell, yeah! Of course he had first thoughts," the bird said aloud to no one but himself. "He... he loves me!"

Falco's own words did little to assure him. He could go and and ask... but that might just scare him. But if he was going to tell him yes, he should have told him by now, right? Fucking hell, this was going to drive him crazy. Time to chill out. Time to calm the fuck down. Nothing was going wrong. His perfect life was on track. But, just to make sure...

Falco went to the desk at the other side of the room and produced a key from the inside of the jacket. He looked around nervously, as if a prying eye would be hiding in the walls, watching what he was about to do. He reached for the top drawer of the desk and stuck the key in the electromagnetic lock. He waited for a moment, and a tiny mechanical voice spoke: KEY IDENTIFIED. PLEASE PRESENT PASSWORD. If anyone knew about this, they might call Falco strange for putting this kind of security on a desk drawer lock, but he had to keep what was in here secret. Even from Fox.

"There's no glitter in the gutter," Falco said aloud, recalling a song that Fox had described as his favourite.

PASSWORD ACCEPTED. INITIATING EYE AND PHALLIC SCAN.

Falco let his hand float lazily in front of the keyhole's eye. A red beam traced everything from his fingerprints to the birthmark on the bottom of his palm, top to bottom, left to right. The light went yellow, and the paranoid freak pulled his pants down. The yellow light now swept over his penis, creating a warming sensation he'd learned to stop popping boners to.

EYE AND PHALLIC SCAN COMPLETE. ACCESS GRANTED.

The tedious security measures completed, the drawer slid open, revealing nothing except one little orange bottle. Double checking for potential spies, he reached in and pulled the little packet of pills.

They were placebos. Why was he hiding a mere bottle of sugar pills?

The little white pills were not actually placebos. It was an extra security measure Falco had placed in addition to the key, password, eye, and phallic scan. Inside the bottle were Prozac tablets, recommended by the therapist that nobody knew he saw.

Lately, he'd been feeling a lot happier. He was making a lot of money doing a job he loved, and he had a loving boyfriend, and he was getting married. However, his concerns about Fox's disposition concerning marriage (I might not be getting married) had got him all riled up, and he popped two Prozac into his mouth.

He was supposed to have stopped taking these two years ago.

Falco had begun seeing his therapist after the Sauria incident. He'd quit Star Fox sometime prior, but after hearing about the danger everyone was in, he'd rushed into action. After Falco had officially rejoined, depression had set in. He missed his space delinquent friends, but he'd wanted to be with Fox even more.

Long story short, here he was, taking long expired Prozac. Here he was, metaphorically spreading open his arms to welcome to the warm, fuzzy feeling. The false happiness he'd come to appreciate so much. Might he be feeling better? Yes, yes he did. He imagined he was standing in a pond surrounded by hundreds of his beautiful Fox, wearing his ring and smiling at him.

Hallucinations were perhaps the only bad side effect.

Wolf's phone was vibrating on the floor next to the piece of crap he called a mattress.

"Unhf..." he groaned. Who the hell was calling him at twelve thirty in the afternoon? Didn't they know he was asleep until at least two? Flailing his arm lazily, he felt it brush his phone and he hoisted it up as if it were a two hundred pound weight. His good eye squinted as he read the caller ID.

THAT guy
555-2222

"Fox, what is it?" he grumbled as it flipped open.

"Video phone, Wolf. I can see the wax in your ears," came the reply.

Hard as it were to make himself angry at Fox, he begrudgingly turned the phone so he was staring into that blinding screen.

(I'm glad you called)

"Hey there, sleepyhead!" he said, sounding strangely chipper.

"Fox, have you been smokin' up?" Wolf asked with a tired grin.

"...Yes. Why?"

"There had to be a reason you are so happy, after booting me out last night."

"Right, right. I'm sorry about that," Fox said guiltily, giving a shy smile. "Something... intense, to say the least, happened."

Wolf notched an eyebrow. He was curious as to what had made his lover send him crawling back to his abandoned space station of a home in the dark sky.

(I really don't wanna know)

(really)

"Well..." Fox began quietly. The vulpine looked almost scared, as if Wolf would reach through the phone and throttle him.

(I have to tell him)

(He doesn't have to tell me)

(He has to know)

(I really don't wanna know)

"Falco proposed to me last night," he spat, immediately looking at something at the wall that was evidently very interesting. "Huh," he said. "That spider is freakishly large."

Fox made a point of not looking at Wolf's stunned expression. His one eye was wide, pupils dilated, and his mouth hung slightly agape. "H-he... he what?!"

"I haven't answered him yet!" Fox cut in quickly, returning his face to the screen. "I swear! I've been in my room all morning!"

Wolf wasn't impressed. His world had just been rocked and he hadn't even gotten a full twelve hour sleep yet. A lone claw scratched an itch on his furry neck absently. What was he supposed to say?

(Don't marry him you can not you are mine)

He very well couldn't tell his lover not to marry Falco. Fox himself had told him he was just a side dish. The other man. A spicy garden salad he bit into when the turkey wasn't looking. He had no right to...

(Don't)

"Wolf...?"

(lose me)

"Please say something. I'm really confused right now," Fox whispered. Wolf's silence was deafening. He was desperate for his lover's help.

"What, what, do you, erm... What do you want?"

"I.." Fox trailed off. What did he want?

(stability safety friendship a team fun excitement rough sex Wolf)

He wanted things that both Wolf and Falco could give him, but he also wanted things that neither of them could provide with a gun to their heads. Falco was the stability, safety, friendship of his team. Wolf was fun, excitement, rough sex.

He was Wolf. The vulpine didn't know which outweighed the other.

"I'm not sure."

"Well that doesn't help!" Wolf snapped. His fur stood on end. He was just so angry.

(wanted to cry again)

"I don't want to be the previews in some shitty romantic comedy. I'm not the Wedding Singer. If you marry Falco... I'm not sneaking around with you if you're going to commit your life to that fucking bird."

"I know..."

"Tell me soon, please."

"I will," Fox conceded. Wolf's face vanished from the screen, and the screen read: Call Ended

Wolf tossed his phone down in the exact same spot he'd found it. A rectangular dent had formed in the carpeting over the many years of not having a desk, or bedside table, or anything of the sort. Dingy drapes hung on one of the windows, and suspicious stains covered various points on flowery wallpaper. A cell phone and Wolf's own body were the only signs that sentient life still inhabited this dead place.

Without hope of getting back to sleep after that ordeal, the lupine hoisted himself out of bed and picked something out of a nearby hamper that looked and smelled clean. He was royally pissed about this proposal, but there were things even a former murderer had to do.

Star Wolf arrived at the convention three hours later.

"Do we seriously have to do this?" groaned Leon. "This is Panther's thing!"

"Yes!" the cat snapped. "You two promised me you would come to the Cornerian Romance Novels Convention! I must find the perfect quote to steal so I can say it to my dear Krystal."

"Why did we promise this again?" Leon asked his leader.

"..."

"Oi! Boss, you in there?"

"Huh? Oh... damn it. I was drifting... sorry. You were saying something about... like, like a puppet show or... something?"

"Never mind."

The CRNC was as to be expected: filled with doting, mostly middle-aged divorced women. They wandered from booth to booth like droves, oohing and aahing at famous romance novelists reading passages from their novels and explaining the thematic elements. Wolf couldn't help but notice that some of the writers at this convention were strikingly handsome. Leon had always said, "Anyone who writes romance novels is undoubtedly a huge nerd who masturbates to anime porn."

Nobody here looked like they were into that sort of thing, but, then again, you never know everything about a man's private life. As Panther darted into the crowds, Leon and Wolf wandered aimlessly around, snickering at old ladies trying to co-erce some of the writers into having sex with them.

"...I don't have any teeth you know. That drives men wild..."

(Disgusting)

"...and then, I would cover you in..."

(Intriguing)

"...ten years ago I was a Playguy centerfold!"

"Woah, now!" Leon cried. "You're on your own, buddy. I got me a centerfold to seduce." With that, the lizard was gone. Wolf had never figured him to be one for relationships, but he supposed everyone needed some every once in a while.

A bright red banner in the back of the enormous building caught Wolf's eye: Gay Interest. He was certainly interested and - after making sure his team mates weren't watching - slid into the gay territory.

Here, it was even more crowded than in the rest of the convention, although now there were lots and lots of extremely effeminate men. Wolf found himself thinking about how glad he was Fox wasn't like most of these guys.

(could be more submissive though)

A heavy twitch ran through the lupine's body as he resisted the urge to throw a punch at a hand that had found its way onto his rear end. Walking along, he found a booth that was almost empty. Figuring it would be a while before he found the rest of Star Wolf, he made his way over to it casually.

"Hi there!" a (extremely) good-looking dog greeted him.

"Hey..." Wolf said nervously. There was a large poster behind the author that read 'You Married My Side Dish'. Needless to say, the lupine was already hooked. He wanted to ask for a copy of the book, but his reading skills were... finite.

"Could you tell me a bit about your book?" Wolf asked him.

The man smiled enthusiastically. "Sure thing," he replied.

The author of 'You Married My Side Dish' launched into the story of two lovers who worked at the same company, during a time when homosexuality was punishable by murder and jail time. He explained how a gay rights activist came and swept one of the lovers off of his feet and proposed to him two years later.

"So... the guy just left his lover?" Wolf asked.

"Well, no! The lover became something of a 'side-dish' so to speak. The swept man wanted to preserve what he had with the abandoned one, so he kept sneaking around with him."

"Did he marry the activist?" Wolf was trying to avoid sounding like a rabid romance freak, but this guy might have valuable advice for him.

The author smiled, this time a wary grin. "Well, I can't tell you that. But here," he reachd under his desk and pulled a leather-bound

(rather thick must be wordy)

novel.

"Please take it," he said.

"Oh... uh... thanks," Wolf said gruffly. He turned on his heel with the novel under his arm.

"Hey, wait!" the author shouted. Wolf stopped dead and turned back to him. The writer was holding a small piece of paper with some numbers scrawled on it.

"My name is Darix Hannel. Give me a call and let me know what you thought of it."

"Uh, sure," Wolf replied nervously. He grabbed Darix's number and ran off before anything else could be said.

Just as he was stuffing the novel under his chair, the rest of Star Wolf arrived in the parking lot.

"Wolf!" Leon called.

(shit)

"'Bout fuckin' time you two got back," Wolf grumbled, trying to sound angry. "How'd it go with Ms. Middle-Aged-Ex-Centerfold?" he added smartly.

"Hahaha," laughed the torturist sarcastically, saying nothing more as he climbed into the cockpit of his Wolfen.

Panther stalked up to him, looking rather triumphant. "Baby," he said. "your heart is the only hole for my key."

Wolf made a face. "That was fucking shit."

The cat's face crumpled. "But..." he muttered. "That book was the Lylat Times #1 Bestseller!"

"They always are, aren't they?" Wolf climbed into his own ship, feeling the hardness of the book under his ass. "Come on, let's just get the fuck out of here. I'm going have to wash the smell of dentures off of my coat."

His team's ships hummed quietly before taking an abrupt jolt out of the CRNC lot. As they took off into space, he looked back at the building that housed Darix Hannel and carefully touched the book under his chair.