Crystal Nothings II: My Wings Angle Down - Fallen Lithium

Disclaimer: I own the character introduced in this chapter!


Dear Master and Crazy,

I need another transport set up as quickly as possible. Fox McCloud has abandoned the tournament without an official resignation and I would like to ensure that he properly removes himself from the listings. Please have the transport ready whenever it is available. Thank you.

Falco Lombardi

Falco stared at the letter he'd writeen tot he higher-ups. It seemed like a conceivable enough excuse to give him a transport. Somehow, the avian doubted the 'managers' would provide him what he needed just so he could chase his ex-boyfriend across dimensions like a cheesy romantic comedy.

Fox's favourite kind of movie, he thought with a sigh.

Pushing his desk chair backwards, Falco cringed slightly at the harsh scraping sound the legs made across the plush blue carpeting. As he walked down the hallways to the postal centre he stuffed the message into a small red envelope and sealed it tightly with...

"Shit. I'm a bird, I don't have any saliva."

Now what?


Wolf flipped through the latest issue of Playboy that he had swiped from Snake's room a few hours ago. His one eye lazily scanned the uninteresting articles and the even less appealing half-naked models that dotted every laminated page.

"God damn, don't they have one of these magazines for women? I'm dyin' here! Who gives two shits about these articles?!" Wolf growled.

Of course, his relentless bitching about the lack of eye-catching males to oggle over was a minor distraction to keep his mind away from the events that had transpired earlier.

He glanced at the clock next to his bed. Sickly green numbers informed Wolf that it was 8:37 P.M. Fox had left the tournament forever exactly four hours and fifty minutes ago. Not that he'd been counting the time or anything.

Wolf was about to give in and begin to read the articles that accompanied the scantily-clad females when there came a loud, incessant banging on his door.

Rolling his eye and growling deep in his trachea, he yelled, "Pikachu! Get out of here! I already told you, I don't want a goddamn lemon snow-cone!"

"It's not Pikachu. I need your spit, Wolf," the voice on the other side of the door cooed.

The statement was enough to shell-shock Wolf into silence. All he could croak out was, "...Eh, wot?"

Falco stepped in, carrying a somewhat important-looking red envelope in his left hand. Wolf relaxed visibly at the sight.

"Geez, Falco. If you wanted another kiss, you could've just said so," Wolf said with a cheeky grin. "You didn't offer me the most attractive request just then."

"Close your trap. I need your saliva to seal this envelope, idiot."

"Oh," Wolf purposely made his ears droop, pretending to look sad. "Awwww, come on Falco. I wanna make out with you againnnnn." The whine was just for good measure.

Rolling his eyes, Falco hissed. "Cut it out and just the seal the envelope okay? I can't drool."

"Fine." The lupine flicked his tongue out from behind has sharp jaws and slowly began to slather it tantalizingly over each crease of the package, simply to irritate Falco. Wolf sensed he was doing a good job as the pilot's foot began tapping against the floor rather impatiently.

After about five minutes of licking, smacking, and bandaging, the message was sealed and Falco was headed for the door, calling a disgruntled 'thanks' over his shoulder.

"Wait a minute, Falco. What's in that envelope anyway?"

"None of your business," and Falco departed.


The music pounded in his ears. Beats, rhythms, melodies, harmonies of the latest chart-topping dance hit. They all burned their way through the sensitive cartilage underneath his coarse fur and into his brain. It infected him. Filled with sensations of passion, energy, wild exuberance. And he couldn't control any of it.

It was wonderful. How he'd missed the Corneria club scene.

Tonight wasn't about control. Tonight wasn't about morals. To hell, the night wasn't even about thinking. The mansion, the isolation, the fighting, the drama. All of it was gone from his brain.

What it was about, this perfect night, was cutting loose, having fun, and not thinking about a damn thing.

Fox had always been subconscious about entering gay bars. He'd always been afraid of protests, riots, lynching. But none of that ever seemed to happen. And yet he always stayed away. Fox would go to straight bars, the mainstream clubs. Women would hit on him left on right. Rub his thighs with their hands. Kiss his ears. Lick the clothing that seperated them from his genitalia. They always had to be slutty women. None of them ever tried to talk to him. Just touching, stroking, caressing, kissing. It sickened him.

Now here he was. Men and only men. What he liked, obviously. This damn song was forcing his hips into action, swinging him about on the dance floor, almost in a ghostly way. He knew his hands were high in the air, and he didn't know how to bring them down. Nor did he wish to know. Rocking his body every which way, Fox knew he was getting stares. And he craved it. Craved the feel of hungry eyes drifting up and down his body, wishing... wishing oh so badly to get him into bed.

Of course, this put him in something of a quandary. He hated it when the slutty women touched him, but he loved it when the perverted men eye-balled him. At least the perverted men attempted some form of cheesy pick-ups and conversation before luring them into sexual encounters. See how it can get confusing?

With seizure-worthy lights pounding his retinas, and a new song pumping his eardrums, he almost didn't hear the voice whispering, "Hey," into his already preoccupied mind space.

Fox turned to face the addresser and grinned, his teeth glinting in the artificial light. Oh yes, tonight was going to be fun.

"Buy you a drink?" the newcomer asked.

"Didn't even have to ask," Fox replied coolly. Casually, he allowed the man to take his hand, almost in a possessive manner, and lead to him to the bar off of the dance floor, taking the time to examine his new 'friend.'

The man was a dog. Not a pure-bred wolf, but obviously a mixed-breed dog. He was wearing a T-shirt advertising the name of some dance place he'd never heard of, and tight (God, so tight) leather pants, clearly advertising a perfectly shaped ass. Seriously, Fox couldn't think of an ass he'd ever seen that was so perfect as the one before him.

His fur was a light, golden colour, almost yellow. The dog's ears were sharp and angled and his bulging biceps and washboard abs threatened to burst thorugh his shirt. His jaw was firmly set and he had a short snout, informing all those around of the confidence and superiority his demeanor held. The best part of it all? Those piercing green eyes that reminded him of the Zoness Sea at dusk.

"I likey," Fox whispered. "I likey, very much." Fox couldn't help but think a certain dog he'd met at a bar in Corneria City was going to get extremely lucky tonight. Who knew, maybe Fox would keep him until tomorrow?

"So what's your name, sexy?"

"Dreyfus," the dog told him, waving a hand for the bar-tender.

"Sounds hot," Fox grinned. "I'm Fox."

Dreyfus smiled, showing of a set of pearly whites that could make stars in the outside night yellow with jealously. "Nice to make your accquaintance, Fox. So what brings you to The Deepthroat tonight?"

"Needed to get away." The vulpine shrugged casually. "Too much drama in my life. You?" Dreyfus stared at the ceiling thoughtfully.

"You could say that."

Two beers were placed in front of them, and Fox had the first one down before his companion could even blink. "Wow, that bad huh?"

Burping loudly enough to turn a few heads, Fox could only nod. "I just need an escape." Suddenly, he narrowed his eyes, and a huskiness he didn't know he could manage creeped into his tone. "Are you gonna be my escape... Dreyfus?"


"Ugh," Fox moaned slightly as he was slammed up against the wall of the dog's dark apartment entryway, with the dog himself running his lips anywhere they could reach while holding him up.

Fox didn't bother to slow them down. Their hips slammed together, painfully hard erections caressing each other right where the feeling counted. Each animal's lips were covered shamelessly in drool as they kissed as hard as they were thrusting.

They were lost in each other tastes, touches, and scents; blind, deaf, and dumb to anything else that was going on in the world.

One particularly hard thrust on the part of Dreyfus was enough to make Fox scream into the neck where he'd been biting. "Dreyfus," he hissed into the dog's fur. "Your bedroom. Now."

Naturally, he was quick to obey. The bedroom door was nearly thrown off of its hinges as it was swung open in despeartion. Clothes fell to the carpet in an enormous puddle around the mattress as the couple practically dove into it, the springs creaking in protest.

Fox took a free moment to examine Dreyfus in all of his naked glory. He looked even more gorgeous without any clothes to cover up his intimate areas, which were currently harder than steel.

"God, Dreyfus... you're so hot."

"Thanks, Fox. I was going to say the same thing about you," the dog retorted with a seductive smile.

The vulpine's hips bucked on instant as his new partner began to gingerly lick and suck on the nubs on his chest with an urgency. Moans and tiny gasps escaped his throat and he writhed against the sheets uncontrollably.

"Drey... omigod Dreyyyyy...!!"

"Foxx..." Dreyfus moaned, equally loudly. "Fox, j-jeez. Lord I wanna pound your hot ass into this mattress."

"Do it," Fox hissed viciously, needing to feel the dog touching him again. "Fuck me, Drey."

He smiled and accepted the invitation by sucking on his own finger lightly. "Ready?" he asked, holding his dripping digit.

White was all that the vulpne's retinas could process as the entrace slammed him full force. After the second and thrid fingers joined in, he was screaming at the top of his lungs, pushing into the invading forces hungrily. "Agh, my Gods... Drey, take out those damn fingers... I need your..." Fox trailed off before the appendange in question was vocalized.

Dreyfus wasted no time in fufilling the wishes, and he feverently began rummaging around in a drawer next to bed.

"Sweet mother of fuck, Dreyfus?! What the hell are you doing?"

"Condom," the dog panted.

"Fuck the condom! Get your ass over here and do me."

For a brief moment, the apartment owner was actually a little bit frightened at how vicious and desperate the fox seemed to be. But that fear turned to arousal in an instant as Fox wrapped his legs around the muscled waist and looked into his eyes. "I'm waiting," he said.

Time to go, Dreyfus thought with excitement.

A pained cry filled the room as it began.

"...Fox? Are you okay?"

"Yes," Fox replied smoothly, still panting slightly. "I... It's been a whlie. Just give me a couple of minutes."

"..."

"..."

"...Move?"

"Move."

So he moved. Moans, grunts and cries of unbridled passion, lust, and pleasure filled the still air of the bedroom as fox and dog mingled, releasing all of the pent up sexual and physical frustration.

"Ugngha... fucking pound me harder." Dreyfus complied, forcing his way into his new lover with as much force as he could muster.

"Ahhaaa... ohhhh."

"Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes uhhh yes!"

"No," Dreyfus cried as he moved faster and faster. "I can feel it... Fox, I'm gonna--"

"Just wait," Fox groaned, "I'm almost there too. Just go just go go just goo..."

With one final, halting scream of intense satisfaction, they came together, Dreyfus releasing his essence inside of the fox underneath him. The cries seemed to echo in the dark room and spiral into nothing as the duo lay in the throes of sexual revolution.

The vulpine just smiled in comfort at the warmth of what was on his stomach and inside of him.

"Mmmmmm, Fox," Dreyfus muttered as he leaned down and kissed him gently. "That was fucking amazing."

"Oh, I know it, Falco."

They both froze in the realization of what was just said. Horror crossed Fox's previously contented facial features

"No, Dreyfus. Please, I'm sorry, that wasn't--"

"Fox..." Dreyfus looked more upset than anything, and immeadiately pulled out of him, letting him whimper at the loss of the feeling inside of him. "Why... why did you do that? Who is Falco?"

"Don't worry," Fox immeadiately jumped up, cringing a tad at the pain in his backside and threw his arms around the dog. "Please just forget I said anything. Remember at the bar... when I told you about all the drama in my life?"

Eyes misting up with the coming of tears, Dreyfus just nodded against the vulpine's arms.

"That name is the cause of it all. Dreyfus, please forgive me. I guess he still won't leave me alone."

"But the name means nothing to you now right? Just you and me right now, yeah?"

Fox nodded and smiled. "Yes, and again -- I'm so sorry. You were amazing tonight. You. Not him."

Comforted, Dreyfus just grinned and pushed him down onto the bed again. "Thank God. I was scared that I wasn't good enough. How about we get some sleep, hmmm?"

"Sleep? Good sir, you haven't met Fox McCloud."

Totally missing the last name, the dog laughed and cuddled closer to him. "Really? Well I'd like to get to know him a bit better."


But even as they settled down from the thrid go around, Fox's now sex-free mind was clouded by thougths of the blue-feathered avian he'd betrayed by going to a sleezy gay bar called The Deepthroat.


A/N: Again, I was gonna make it longer, but that's a lot to take in for one chapter. I originally didn't want to write the sex scene, but in order for that last bit to have maximum impact, I kind of knew I had to write what lead up to it. Sorry if that offended anyone! Please review!