Guns 'N' Boners
fuck you
fuck me
fuck us all
fucking shut up
oh how i fucking hate you
why wont you run away with me because you fucking suck thats why fuck you....
"Ah!" Wolf sat up straight in bed. His cell phone politely informed him that it was eleven thirty at night. He'd gone to bed half an hour ago. Groaning, the lupine allowed himself to fall face-down out of bed and shuffle lazily towards his kitchen.
Maybe 'kitchen' was too strong of a word. There was a decrepit old fridge and freezer, but no other appliances. The fire pit that had cooked many-a-charred meal and boiled hundreds of pots of water waited expectantly in the far corner of the yellow room. Opening the fridge, for a beer, Wolf debated making himself something to eat. With disgust, he cast his good eye over the fire pit. Slowly, his vision focused on the Arwing parked in the hangar. It was visible through a hole in the floor. Suddenly, an image of the Great Fox popped up in his mind. He imagined boarding the ship, creeping into Star Fox's kitchen with a turkey in hand and... and...
A spot of weak flooring below him. Wolf gave himself a mental slap in the face. What was he thinking? He'd never even considered breaking into the Great Fox to cook before.
"I'm not breaking in. I have the security code."
Carefully, as if surrounded by landmines he approached the freezer and thrust open its dusty top. Sitting there, in all of its frozen splendor, was a six-inch steak just begging to be cooked in a hot, stainless steel convectional stove-top. Vaguely, Wolf considered that his desire to use his rivals' stove stemmed from the animosity he felt towards Falco at the moment.
That could be it...
(but I don't give a shit)
It was a good thing he didn't live with Panther and Leon, or Wolf would certainly be causing much suspicion amongst his teammates. He doubted the two of them even knew where he lived. The lupine recalled being asked once or twice... and telling them to piss off because it 'wasn't any of your business, y'hear?'
Cradling a fat steak in his lap, Wolf set his ship on autopilot, having memorized the path to the Great Fox after hundreds of trips there. Lylat was quiet, and for that reason, so was Star Fox. They just docked their cruiser above Lylat and floated there, waiting for some great cataclysm to befall the galaxy so the ship would jump back into action. So Star Fox could smile brightly for swooning teenagers and the vicious press. But for now, there was nothing going on in the world that an Arwing couldn't handle. Andross was dead. What could possibly go wrong?
As the Wolfen navigated itself along the chosen path, Wolf pulled the book he'd taken from the CRNC out from under his chair, giving a tiny moan of relief when the hard material was out from under his behind. It went without saying that the mercenary couldn't read as well as some of his peers. Sure, he could talk to his team mates about an assignment that had come in through a holo-text... but, a novel? He'd never had a reason to read a novel. Even Fox knew that his childhood wasn't filled with reading books. Wolf's education had been in the art of kicking ass.
Maybe, hopefully, the book didn't use big words or any fancy language. It was a gay interest romance book, how could it possibly be very wordy?
Cautiously, the lupine cracked open the book and scanned it as though it were instructions on how to dismantle a bomb. The first page looked simple enough. No secret codes... just words. Words he could read. But this was no good. He needed to get to the part of the book where the conflict was resolved. The table of contents indicated that chapter twenty-seven was entitled "A Decision Is Made".
"Gotta love those convenient titles," Wolf said aloud as he flipped to that page.
Ten minutes later, Wolf was twitching violently. The Star Wolf leader was trying very, very hard not to toss the book into the vacuum of space. Clenching it tightly in his paws, he tried to soothe himself.
It's okay. Let's just take it one word at a time. You're not stupid. You can do this.
Sighing miserably, he opened it up to chapter twenty-seven and tried again.
Falco Lombardi was wide awake. So awake. It made his eyes burn how awake he was. He turned onto his left side. Nothing. His right? Equally pointless. Laying on his stomach made him have to urinate... There was just no right way to sleep.
Grunting, he fumbled around in the dark for the remote and turned on the forty-two inch plasma he'd insisted on buying for his bedroom. Might as well enjoy the damn thing.
"Don't miss 'Kinky Lesbian Adventures', tonight on HBO..."
Click
"...you are not the father..."
Click
"...just a little dab, that's all you need!"
After flipping in this fashion for a while, Falco headed back to Kinky Lesbian Adventures. Fox wasn't around to yell at him for it. After all, it wasn't like he'd explicitly stated he was gay. Two very attractive blondes kissed eagerly as they tore off each other's bras. It appeared that he had tuned in just in time for the action. He could feel his little bird standing at attention.
As Wolf's ship pulled up to the Great Fox, a mechanical voice prompted him to give up the security code. Normally, he had to fish around the Wolfen to find the sheet of paper with the numbers written on it. He'd come here so many times though, that it was no longer necessary.
Security Code Accepted. Opening Hangar Bay Doors.
Steak under his arm, he hopped out of his Wolfen and crept towards the elevator that lead up to the bridge. He silently prayed that Peppy or Slippy wasn't awake doing some late-night scouting at the controls. Falco would be sleeping like a log, no doubt. Wolf chose not to think about what Fox would look like right now. He didn't need the distraction of picturing the Star Fox leader naked.
Despite the fact that his steak was uncooked, the smell of the freshly fried meat wafted into his nostrils. Half-dreaming, Wolf took a quick look around the control deck. It was empty. R.O.B., the ship's navigator, was shut-down - asleep, maybe - in the far corner. Sighing in relief, he headed down the memorized path which he knew lead to the ship's kitchen.
A convection oven had never looked so beautiful. Even in the darkness (too risky to turn the light on), it seemed to shine. An angel in the world of culinary goodness. A well thought-out and flawless plan of passive revenge.
"One might think me slightly maniacal," Wolf said aloud, surprising even himself with his choice of vocabulary. "Fuck 'em," he added more gruffly. "I can have one goddamn good meal. I deserve it." Carefully, as if the slightest click of the dial would alert one of the Great Fox's sleepers, he turned the stove's largest burner to the required temperature. While waiting, he decided it was time to root around in the team's fridge.
"Falco's gotta keep beer in here somewhere," he mumbled as he pushed aside cartons of orange juice, organic cabbage, bacon (pigma dengar), milk. "Clever bastard." The alcohol was carefully hidden behind an industrial-sized tub of yogurt. Who the hell eats yogurt these days? Who?!
Just as he popped the tab on the bottle, a sizzling from the pan informed him that the pre-heating process was complete. He unraveled the steak as if it were a holy object and basked in the sizzle as it slapped the pan.
(life is good life is hard life is fun)
"Wolf?!"
The lupine's hairs immediately stood on end. Thankfully, he managed to resist the urge to jump so high in shock that his head would slam into the ceiling.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Jesus, Fox. Thank god it's you," Wolf breathed, the adrenaline from fear seeping out of him. "You scared the shit out of me."
Fox didn't respond, just raised an eyebrow and slowly moved towards the stove. "Are you... Are you c-cooking? Here...?"
The circuits that connected the lupine's brain to his mouth seemed to short out. He stared dumbly between the frying meat and Fox's heavily confused stare.
"Yyyyyes?" he replied as if it were a question.
"Oh..." Fox sounded strangely calm. "But, uh... wh-why are you doing it here? And not at your place?"
Again, the good eye flailed desperately between his food (which smelled sooooo good) and his food. "Well... you know, I, uh... don't have an oven at home so..."
"What if you got caught by someone besides me? What if one of my teammates came in here and saw you?" The tiniest hint of anger was starting to enter Fox's voice.
"I know, I know... Fox, I'm sorry. This was dumb. I just haven't had a real meal in so long that I..."
The vulpine took a deep breath to calm himself. He could at least take solace in the fact that he'd caught him instead of Slippy or Peppy. Or even worse, Falco Lombardi. Wolf was still rambling, but Fox had lost track about eight stammered "I"'s ago.
"Look," he interrupted, cutting off his lover. "this isn't that big of a deal. Just come to my room."
Sighing in relief, Wolf nodded while motioning over to the pan, which made a very confusing head gesture. "S-sure, just let me finish cooking this."
Fox just rolled his eyes in response. "Fine. Whatever. Just hurry it up before someone else comes down."
Were those voices coming from the ship's kitchen? Falco temporarily turned his attention away from the kinky lesbians to turn an ear down to the Great Fox's source of nourishment. The sound was faint, but it was reminiscent of voices. Then again, it could've just been the kinky lesbians, because he sure as hell wasn't even listening to what they were saying as they touched each other.
"...before someone else comes down."
So there were people downstairs. He sincerely hoped Slippy wasn't trying his hand at cooking again. The Great Fox was inexplicably unequipped with a fire extinguisher, and the VFD had not been at all pleased the last time they had paid a visit.
"Must be time for damage control," the avian sighed as he tossed his blankets aside. His feet hit the cold floor and sent a shiver through his spine. Why was Fox the only one on the team who got carpeting? Perhaps Falco would call up a meeting tomorrow and raise the issue. Slippy and Peppy would surely agree with him.
For now, it was time to put a stop this insanity. Fully aware that he was still erect, he threw on what he liked to call his "Baggy Robe" and started for the kitchen.
It was even colder in the hall. Maybe he would have to petition for full carpeting. Now that would raise some complaints: "That's too expensive", "We don't have time for that", "Slippy might get stuck!", "If Slippy cooks again, we'll be really screwed with carpeting!"
The voices were becoming clearer. Now he completely recognized the voice of his fiancee-to-be, Fox. He couldn't quite stick a feather on the other one though... Falco was very perplexed to discover that there were no lights on. Was the toad trying to cook in his sleep? Good thing Fox had noticed because that would have been--
"Oh, shit."
(disastrous)
Something snapped in the avian's mind. He was not even close to sure what to make of this.
Wolf O'Donnell - one of his team's greatest arch-enemies - was standing in front of their stove, with some kind of meat cooking on it. Worse, he was holding his fiancee (to be) in his arms.
"Wolf..." Falco said darkly. "Let him go. No one has to get hurt." He was silently thankful that the Baggy Robe also housed a small pistol he liked to have handy, for those just in case situations. "Please don't hurt him."
Wolf snorted and released the 'prisoner', who didn't move from his position. "What the hell? I wasn't going to hurt him."
"Well excuse me," Falco replied as he slowly traced the pattern of the gun. "You have to understand that I would jump to conclusions when my leader is being held by someone such as yourself."
"Falco..." Fox whispered, mimicking the other man's method of speech. "Calm down. I know this has gotta be confusing for you, but just let me explain."
"Explain what?"
Hoping for some form of guidance, Fox nervously turned to the lupine, who just gave him a blank stare in return. Grimacing in disgust, he turned his attention to an increasingly upset Falco.
"Wolf and I are... ummm..."
"Come on!" hissed the bird. "I'm getting pissed off now! Somebody better speak the fuck up!" Fox couldn't help but gasp as his... boyfriend(?) drew the hidden gun, training it on Wolf.
His eyes burned with rage and his hands trembled slightly. It is also worth noting that his erection had dissipated completely.
Wolf was a tightly coiled cobra. Not doing anything to draw the bird's bullets, but ready to pounce. His heart was pounding resolutely. All he could feel was fierce instinct to protect Fox, even at the cost of his own llife. It was a feeling he had encountered before, during the Apariod invasion...
"Falco, why are you doing this...?" Fox asked him quietly.
"I-I don't know!" Falco responded loudly, almost screaming. "I don't fucking know okay? But I'm going to do something even stupider unless somebody tells me what this is!"
Cracks were already forming in the fragile mind of Falco Lombardi. The water was loose. He twitched and fired a warning shot as Wolf moved, standing up straight, doing his best to look dignified.
"Fox and I have been fucking behind your back."
The object of Wolf's statement immediately clenched his eyes shut. That was too blunt. This was bad, he should've spoken before--
"W-what?"
No one responded to the stammer. All three of them were dead silent. Little sparks of rage, fear, confusion, and most of all, sadness fettered through the room. Fox had nightmares about this. He knew that this was how it was all going to end. By somebody getting caught.
Wolf spoke up again, ignoring Falco completely. "Fox, I'm sorry. This is my fault. If I hadn't come here we wouldn't be getting caught." He turned his back to the two of them. "Damn it, the steak burned. Ah hell, it's trash now."
Nonchalantly, as if he were cooking the three of them dinner, he carefully removed the meat and tossed it in the garbage disposal. He could feel the laser aim of the gun on his back as he carried the pan to the sink and drained the grease, wincing at the steamy hiss it gave.
"How..." Falco began, choking on his next question. "How long? How long has this... this..."
"About three months now," was the lupine's casual reply. He placed the used pan back on top of the stove so it wouldn't burn anything. Anyone knew he couldn't afford to pay for those kinds of repairs. "In fact, we met up at that nice cafe in Corneria's South End. We made arrangements while you were bleedin' the lizard."
Bleedin' the what?
The gun shook even more violently, and the ruined dam that was Falco's brain only broke further. "You... Fox.. We were getting married, damn it!"
Fox sighed. The spotlight was on him now. He didn't want to have to drop this A-bomb now, but he didn't have a choice.
"No, we weren't, Falco," he said quietly, trying to keep the bird's gaze. "We never were." A huge grin broke across Wolf's face.
"You're turning him down?" he asked, sounding somewhat gleeful.
"Y-you, you are turning me down?"
"I'm sorry, but... yeah."
That did it. The final stone that held the works together exploded, and the water flowed freely, corroding any sense that Falco had left. He felt like he was watching the scene from above them as the gun fired, hitting his leader square in the knee. From the ceiling, he just watched silently as Fox screamed in pain and hit the floor. Watched as Wolf rushed to him and began screaming obscenities at his body.
And still, he looked on his own body stalked out of the room, apparently satisfied with committing nothing more than a minor injury.
