Words in Chapter: 4175
Written: May 10-13, 2015
Current Characters: Mike, Jeremy, Fritz, Porfirio, Mr. Fazbear, Freddy, Goldie, Chica, Bonnie, Mangle, Foxy, Chelsea
Warnings: Humanized. Mild suggestive content.
AN: Sorry, my friends, for the delay. If this isn't the chapter you were hoping to see, I apologize, as this is where the characters led. Thank you to all who have stuck with me so far.


Mike tried not to feel nervous, tried to ignore the butterflies dancing in his stomach and his sweaty palms. He clutched the gift he'd gotten for his date under his elbow, reassuring himself that everything was going to turn out just fine.

He'd spent the morning getting ready; he grabbed a shower, dried his hair and tried to get it to stay in a somewhat presentable state, picked out some dark jeans and a red tee without any stains, paced the hall trying to come up with enough things to say to keep the conversation going. But as the lengthy practice session with the mirror dragged on, he reminded himself that it was just Foxy. Then promptly realized he had no idea what to expect with the man, seeing as the others had only suggested things they had done with Foxy in the past themselves, and that wasn't all that helpful in these circumstances.

He'd left his apartment early in an attempt to dodge most of the traffic, stopping by the flower shop on the way to get a bundle of pink tulips. Just having the bouquet reassured him, for it was something he could hold without worrying about the stains his sweaty hands were probably leaving on things.

He snapped his gum as he finally reached the apartment building, tossing it in the garbage as soon as he stepped through the door. He strolled down the hall, knocking lightly on Foxy's door, stepping back and rocking on his heels until Foxy came to the door.

He held the flowers out and said, "For Mangle."

Foxy laughed, taking the flowers to get a vase for them and some water, and from the depth of the apartment Mike heard the other occupant giggle as well. He stood in the entryway to wait, and waved to Mangle when caught sight of her sitting in the hall. She smiled at him.

"You're early," she teased.

"It's 12:05."

"That's still early." She rolled forward then clasped her hands in lap. Her eyes went to the other thing in his grasp, a delicate eyebrow lifting in question, to which Mike jerked his head toward the kitchen, and for a second they listened to the running water until it shut off and Foxy returned to the room. He set the vase of tulips on the coffee table, moving aside a couple things to make room.

"Here, Fox, this is for you," Mike said, handing over the gift. The tall man seemed a little surprised, but he eased the tape off the brown paper carefully, setting aside what he took off. When he got the thing free he flipped it over in his hands, and Mike got a sharp toothed grin that was more than a little contagious. He was pulled closer by the redhead who leaned down to close the distance. Mike's eyes started to close as his lips nearly brushed against Foxy's.

Only the kiss he expected didn't happen. Mangle prevented it, whether or not it was on purpose was the one thing Mike wasn't sure about though he figured it wasn't an accident, by suddenly calling her brother's name. He pulled back, turning to acknowledge his sister while Mike tried to get his racing heart back under control.

He watched the exchange distantly, barely registering anything beyond the fact that Foxy was happily showing off the book Mike had given him. He felt like he was being submerged in water, with the Harrisons on the dry land he wanted to be on but couldn't get to. He shook his head, and managed to get his mind to focus again on what they were saying as Foxy put down the book and took his arm, long fingers curling around the thinnest part of Mike's arm.

"Let's go. Marg's right, we're running late," Foxy said. The shorter man simply blinked up at him, having missed the earlier conversation and as such having no idea what he was referring to. He got an eye roll and a tug toward the door. He let himself be pulled along, as it gave him time to collect and reorder his thoughts once more.

Foxy pulled him to the bus stop where they waited for about ten minutes for the bus. It was hot and crowded, but Foxy weaved his way through the crowd of standing passengers to get to the open seats in the back, pulling Mike with. They slid into the open two-seater bench, neither minding the way it made them sit hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. Unfortunately for Mike, he was sitting to his Foxy's right and the redhead had left his prosthetic at home. He didn't mind all that much, but it made it impossible for him to give into the desire to take the other man's hand. He settled for placing a hand on Foxy's knee.

Their ride was a little shorter than Mike expected, even though he knew the city well enough, but he suspected it was because he was relishing the warmth he could feel through Foxy's good pants. He thought his companion looked cute, his unruly red locks swept back and brushed out to keep them from falling into his eyes. His shirt, a pale almost faded ruby, made his hair seem even more vibrant than it was naturally, and his yellow eyes shine.

His observations had kept him from realizing they were nearing their stop, though Mike had little to no idea where they were going to begin with, until Foxy was insisting that he get up before the bus started moving without letting them off. He was forced to let go of Foxy's knee, and was once more disappointed to be kept on Foxy's right as they headed toward the movie theater.

He glanced at the large posters displaying the movies currently being shown. He dismissed the romantic comedy that most of the people in the lineup for tickets seemed to be excited for, but when he found the poster for the latest thriller he couldn't help but grin. He hadn't noticed that Foxy had been watching him until they reached the desk themselves and the ex-entertainer requested tickets for the very movie Mike had been curious about. He continued to be stunned as he pulled out his wallet and paid for the tickets, and later a big bag of popcorn to share.

He followed Foxy up the stairs in their theater as his date chose the seats, two in the center of an upper row so they could see the whole movie without getting a crick in their necks, Foxy explained. He didn't mind, carrying the popcorn and munching on a couple pieces as they walked. He let his date sit before doing the same, holding the bag so the other man could reach without trouble. He let his hand rest on Foxy's knee.

"So what are we doing after the movie?" He asked, his eyes on the screen as the first few commercials started. He ate a couple more pieces.

"Impatient, aren't you, lad? Not satisfied to simply wait and enjoy the film?" Foxy teased. He set his hand over the one on his knee with a grin, his good eye sparkling. Mike just laughed.

"I don't think I'll be watching much of the movie," he said.

A couple of girls squeezed past them down to grab their own seats, cutting off any response Foxy may have had planned, so he tightened his grip on Mike's hand affectionately. They kept quiet as the lights came down, and the last few commercials ended. Mike started to smile to himself as the movie started, and he hardly noticed when Foxy's hand moved to rest on the arm of the seat.

Mike thoroughly enjoyed the movie, oblivious to when his companion started to jump and gasp at the action within it. Poor Foxy couldn't keep himself from flinching in fear, digging his nails into the armrest. He pulled back further into his seat as the action built to a climax, stress building in his chest and making it hard to breathe through the hand crushing his lungs. The film's antagonist, a man driven crazy by witnessing the death of his pregnant wife, slashed through the flimsy attempts to barricade the door made by the protagonist, a young male college student who had just moved to the neighbourhood. He cornered the kid, knife raised to strike. The look in the bigger man's eyes was one Foxy could have sworn mirrored Porfirio's when he threatened him in that coffee shop.

His knee jerked as the stalker stabbed the student in the chest, thick trails of blood making their way down the pristine white shirt as the boy died. The sudden movement pulled Mike's eyes from the gore on the screen to Foxy's pale, terrified face. He reached up, gently turning the vulpine man's face to get a better look at the wide-eyed look of terror and to get him to stop looking at the screen. He could feel how shallow Foxy's breathing really was, and a stab of guilt hit him in the chest. He leaned over and raised his voice enough to be heard over the dying moans coming from the speakers around them.

"Do you want to leave?"

Foxy shook his head. "It's almost over."

No matter what Mike said after that, Foxy wouldn't respond. He was relieved, at least, that as the movie wound to its grim end, the tall man seemed to recover from the scare. They held hands as the credits started to roll and the chatting teens went back through the row to get out. Mike turned in his seat to get a better look at his companion who offered him more of a smile, already looking a lot better than earlier.

"You didn't like the movie?" Mike asked curiously. He wasn't surprised when his question got an affectionate eye roll coupled with a wider, relaxed smile.

"I would have been fine with a romance movie," Foxy replied. He flicked a piece of popcorn at the shorter man when he snorted.

"You're a dork, Fox."

They left the theater with Mike, once again, on the wrong side and regretting not paying. They strolled through the park nearby, and after a few minutes Foxy was back to normal, a light smile gracing his face as they walked.

They walked down a path that stretched through a crowded park. They stopped a safe distance away to watch, and when Mike glanced up at his date, there was a fond look in those golden eyes he loved so much. He was able to tug on him a few times to get him walking again after a moment.

"Do you have a lot of experience working with kids?" he asked. Foxy shrugged a bit.

"I didn't babysit much as a teenager, most people were smart enough not to ask me to watch their children. Not that I'd hurt them, I was just… aggressive."

"What do you mean?"

"I was a troublemaker, I got into fights all the time, and I was known for it."

They stopped again at a bench and they sat together, Foxy stretching his long legs out in front of himself, pressing his wrist against his scarred eye a little with a sigh. A dog rushed past them after a ball that bounced down the concrete path.

"What changed?" Mike asked to break the silence. He watched something close to wry amusement cross the man's face.

"I lost my friends," Foxy replied. He cast his eye to the clouds. "I'd had them all my life, but after the accident I was struggling and I took it out on them. It was my fault that Goldie ended up leaving to protect Freddy. I was hurting them all, and she stopped it, when I should have been the one to leave. You… you didn't see it, Mike. I was a monster."

Mike's expression softened and he turned his date to hold his face gently. He frowned at the other man, understanding in his blue eyes as tears welled up in gold.

"The past's the past," he said wisely. "You're nothing like that now, and you've made up for what you've done. If my opinion counts, and I think it does to you at least, I think you're perfect the way you are, Pharaoh."

Tears were starting to run down Foxy's cheeks, and a moment later he was pulling Mike into his arms, burying his face in the younger's shoulder. Mike's eyes widened a little, but he didn't push him away, instead holding him until he was calmer, running his hand over the bony back.

They stayed on that bench for a while, until the sky was starting to darken. Mke played with a few strands of the wild red hair Foxy had tried, and failed, to wrestle into being straight and pinned back with a ribbon he'd stolen from Mangle. His attempts to get it under control couldn't keep all of it from misbehaving, and a few long pieces had sprung free and fell near the side of his face.

"So what kinds of movie do you like?" Mike asked, to redirect his attention. "You didn't like that thriller much. Does it have something to do with that car from last Thursday? Is it still hanging around your building?"

"I'll watch just about anything, so long as it's entertaining." He ignored the way the server started to smile at him. "I watch history documentaries. Not something most people would find entertaining. I don't get to watch very many movies."

"History documentaries on pirates?"

"I like more than just pirates," he replied indignantly, a twinkle in his eye and a smirk on his lips. He stood up, helping up his date as he did. He started back toward the street, and the bus stop, linking an arm through Mike's. A couple children gossiped when they saw the men, but he just smiled at them. "I'm sure you've got your own favorite topics, lad. Mine just happens to be pirates. But I like history, in general."

"Did you study it while you were in college?"

Foxy shook his head. "Just in high school. I took every course on it I could."

"What about after school activities? What did you like to do?" Mike pressed. He smiled when he got a curious little smile.

"You haven't given me a chance to ask anything about you," Foxy pointed out. Mike shrugged, pulling him to the bus stop to wait there. He let his hands rest on the curve of Foxy's hips, tilting his head back just enough to meet those yellow eyes.

"My life's not interesting. Good parents, I'm an only child, my parents sent me to university, so I'm working to try to pay off my debts without their help. I've had awful luck with the ladies, and the only interesting thing to happen to me besides the number of bike crashes I've been in is the job I got at Freddy's. And I hardly cared about it until… I met you."

Foxy drew him closer, sliding his hand up to his neck to hold him, something softening in his face that made him seem younger. He brought their lips close, making Mike's breath catch in anticipation.

He dug his nails into her hips, making her groan as her back hit the wall. She licked her lips. her eyes hungry as she pulled him close by his tie, almost devouring his lips in a desperate kiss. She started to undo the buttons of his shirt, careful not to leave marks on his skin as she worked. He was lost in the feeling of her warm hands on the curve of his shoulder and her tongue in his mouth.

Foxy paused, so close to Mike that all he could smell was the shorter man's distinct smell. His heart was racing in his chest, and he part of him knew it wasn't just excitement. He let their noses come to be touching, trying to force himself to breathe.

"They can't know," he whispered, already starting to force the sparkling strap of her dress down her shoulder to expose more of her flawless skin. His hand trailed down the side of her neck and he leaned in to kiss along it. She tried to bite back a moan, clawing at his hips a little to keep herself quiet.

"I won't leave marks," she whispered breathily.

"M-Mike…" he whispered, and it was Mike who pulled away, gently turning the man's chin to get him to look at him. "I-I… I'm sorry, I-"

"Foxy, we can take this slowly. At a pace you're comfortable with. I'm fine taking things at your speed."

He pulled Foxy to sit on the bench to wait, and the man rested his head on Mike's shoulder in an appreciative gesture. He let his eyes slip closed until he heard the bus come to a stop. They climbed on, taking their usual seats and sticking to silence until they reached Freddy Fazbear's restaurant. They were directed to a table almost immediately upon entering, and to Mike's surprise they were served by a server, not one of the entertainers.

Their waitress was a girl Mike could remember talking to only once or twice in the past, during his conversations with the many other servers before he'd become friends with the entertainers. She was one strongly opposed to the behaviors of their better paid coworkers, a loud voice in the dim cry for equality in their place of work. She'd seemed to assume that her good looks, for she had all the slight frame women envied, the big, helpless looking chocolate eyes, the tanned skin and light hair, would help her cozy up to the boss himself and get him to remove the importance of the entertainers. He'd heard from Jeremy that she'd tried it once before and was shot down by Freddy.

She'd started to spread rumors about the man, and the worst, if Mike could remember correctly, was about Freddy having a secret affair with one of the female employees who had gotten fired just before Mike was hired on, and she claimed that this affair was why the other girl was fired and why Freddy was so against having a romantic life. While at the time Mike had rolled his eyes at the whole ordeal, it had really gotten to Freddy, another server told him later. The only reason she hadn't gotten fired, so he'd heard, was the interference of the senior Mr. Fazbear.

The close call had lessened her desire to interfere, but she still vocalized her dislike of the system outside the earshot of any of her non-server coworkers. Even so, she greeted both Mike and Foxy with a smile and led them to a table near the middle of the restaurant so they could clearly see the stage.

The lights were dimmed, for the band and Goldie were just getting into position to start their show as Mike and Foxy got seated. The families around them were whispering, eager to see the performance, while Mike wondered what it would be like to see it from their perspective instead of an employee's. He took Foxy's hand, watching Bonnie idly check his guitar as Freddy unhooked his microphone from its stand. Goldie moved to the front of the stage, surveying the crowd with a grin.

"Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's," she called cheerfully. "I'm Gold, the better bear."

From behind her Freddy put in, "There is no better bear, Goldie! We're both great!"

"Sure, if you say so, Freddy," she said with an eye roll and a smile. "So, I was talking with the cooks earlier, and they told me that some food's gone missing. I wonder who took it. Was it you, Chica?"

"Wasn't me!" she chirped lightly, resting one fist on her hip, lifting her cupcake a little higher so the audience got a better look at the little pink iced treat. The googly eyes spun. "I just have this!"

"What about you, Bonnie?"

"Nope! I was busy tuning my guitar!" Bonnie played a riff to prove his point, and so Goldie turned her attention to the last member of their band, who was still busy tinkering with the microphone. He looked up as Goldie stopped to stand beside him.

"What about you, Freddy? It does look like you've been getting into the honey lately," she joked, poking at his stomach playfully. He batted away her hand with an annoyed look he couldn't quite hold.

The four paused when a child, a little boy who was up near the stage to get a better look at the entertainers among a few other young children, piped up from his spot, his voice being picked up by one of the microphones set up for the audience when the kids wanted to sing along.

"You're bigger than he is!"

The four on stage exchanged looks as Goldie's face went red, one hand coming to rest on her belly subconsciously as the others started to laugh. A horrified mother came up to collect the child, but none of the entertainers scolded him for he was so young he didn't know better. Freddy put one large hand on his sister's shoulder, trying not to join his friends in laughing at her expression. She glared up at him, then looked over her shoulder at Chica, covering the small microphone pinned to her jacket so the audience wouldn't catch her words.

"This'll be you one day," she pointed out. Both Bonnie and Chica froze, a blush blossoming in their cheeks as they looked to each other almost shyly. Freddy just smirked. He motioned for Bonnie to start playing a song, and the rabbit entertainer obliged, starting one of the better songs they played during the day, in Mike's opinion.

The server leaned back in his seat as those working wandered through the tables almost lazily, for the customers didn't want to be interrupted when they were listening to the entertainers sing. He smiled when Foxy took his hand. He leaned over to be heard.

"How much of that is scripted?"

"That conversation? None of it. They barely script anything anymore, they usually just come up with it on the spot to keep it interesting," Foxy answered.

"What about Jeremy?"

"They would have given him a script to follow and they'll stick to it to help him get used to it. At least, that's what I think they'll do. Speaking of, where is Jeremy?"

"He texted me this morning and told me one of the other servers was attacked or something, and a key was taken."

"A key...?" Foxy muttered. He pulled his hand back to dig out his phone,checking it for messages and finding none. He left it on the table to avoid making Mike feel like he didn't want to be there. He kept quiet as the band transitioned to their next song, complete with more teasing and jokes from the entertainers on stage.

He let his eye roam the dark room and his heart stop when he caught sight of a long set of ears poking out around a corner. Bonnie was on stage, and there were no other entertainers that wore rabbit ears. He went to get Mike's attention, but he noticed that the young man was distracted by the show and when he looked back to the hall the ears were gone.

He tried to keep his mind off it as the last song wound to its end and the band dismounted the stage. He watched Goldie, catching her gaze over the heads of the other people scattered around the room. She made her way back toward the change room, and he turned back toward his date who had ordered for them during the show at some point.

"That was better than listening to it while working," Mike said. He watched Foxy's mouth twist up into a smile that looked almost uncomfortable. He frowned a little, taking in just how tired the redhead looked, and as much as he wanted to he couldn't just play it off as a trick of the light. "Oh, man, this didn't turn out well, did it? You look like you're miserable, and everything has gone wrong..."

"Mike," Foxy interrupted, resting his hand over Mike's, a more natural smile gracing his face. "I've had fun. And I didn't expect it to be perfect."

His words seemed to reassure the server, for Mike relaxed and he laced his fingers with Foxy's for a moment before releasing him so they could eat as their meals arrived.

It was partway through their meal when Foxy's phone buzzed with a text. He said a quick apology for the rude behavior, saying he needed to check it just in case it was his sister, and checked his phone. He expected Goldie's name to flash on his screen. What he didn't expect were the words.

'Save me.'