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A long sigh left the captain. He leaned back in the driver’s seat, closing his eyes, feeling the cold winter night creep in without the heater running. The parking lot was dark, lit by a single lamppost towering over a faded crosswalk marked with a dented stop sign. Warriors opened his eyes, taking in the silence. He never anticipated the adjustment from life in Castle Town to life in Kokiri City to be so difficult. Warriors liked the sparse traffic and quiet neighborhoods, but he came to loathe the way the city shut down after 9 pm.
He was used to nightclubs and rooftop bars, live music playing until 2 am, parties which stretched to sunrise. Apartment windows would glitter in the night, traffic passing like stars far beneath the highrises. There were always drinks, always company, always strangers to go home with and numbers to put in his phone and never text again.
Castle Town was a city of adults, but Kokiri City was one of grownups. They had day jobs and children, family dinners, and strict bedtimes. The traffic lights went from red and green to flashing yellow, the intersections were deserted, the few apartment buildings were low and dark once the hour reached 11.
The only place Warriors knew was open that wasn’t a derelict watering hole was the Korkiri Village Value Theater. He’d been once or twice, unimpressed by it but not deterred from the passing distraction it offered. It was a squat building built the generation before and characterized only by its complete lack of anything. Beige in color, waterlogged movie posters dotting the exterior in scuffed plastic frames. The marquee burned a dark yellow, the shade of cigarette smoke, and some of the letters were black while others were red.
Warriors sighed, getting out of his car finally. It stuck out in the parking lot, a sleek luxury sedan parked in the middle of the lot with empty spaces stretching to either side. He pushed his hands in his pockets, head down as he strode towards the glass doors. The asphalt rose and fell, worn into divots from car ties and rainwater, cracked and patched in strange uneven blobs.
With his head down, Warriors didn’t notice a familiar pickup truck parked along the cement fence separating the movie theater lot from the laundromat. He didn’t spy a familiar silhouette smoking a cigarette in the shadows near the corner before entering to catch a show.
The captain grabbed the brass handle, opening the door. He stepped inside to a cold entryway, trapped between one set of doors and the next. The bottoms of his shoes were slick from the damp pavement outside and he streaked dirt and roadsalt over cracked tiles as he passed through the interior doors, over a black rug stained with gray footprints, and stepped into the lobby.
It was a large open space steeped in the scent of stale popcorn and old soda. Gray and black blobs of trampled gum marked the faded carpet, blending into a pattern of colorful flecks and ribbons. One crumpled traffic cone marked what Warriors hoped was a spill soaking into the floor. Past the carpet was an empty ticket stand with a chipped laminate face, beyond that, the concessions counter where one balding man hunched over a register with a secondhand novel.
Warriors reached the counter, barely glancing down at the display of dusty candy boxes. He looked at the showtime board instead, unfamiliar with any of the titles and going off ratings alone. This late, there were no PG showings left. His options were one PG-13 movie he assumed was a horror flick or an R-rated movie that was either a comedy or a thriller, though he wasn’t sure which.
The cashier looked up, sighing through his nose. “What’ll it be?” he asked.
Warriors shrugged. “Which one’s the emptiest?”
“Scarecrow 3.”
“That one then.”
The man raised a brow. “You sure?”
“Is it bad?”
“I’m not supposed to say.”
“I won’t tell.”
The cashier nodded. “Horrible.”
“That’ll do.”
“Alright,” the man said, “that’ll be 5 rupees. Do you have a rewards card—”
“I do,” a voice cut in behind Warriors. “Make it two.”
Warriors tensed. He swept a scowl over his shoulder, catching Twilight standing there behind him, the fresh smell of cigarette smoke clinging to the wolf.
“Are you stalking me?” Warriors snapped.
Twilight rolled his eyes. “Don’t flatter you’self. I like the Scarecrow movies.”
Warriors didn’t protest as Twilight tossed a creased paper movie rewards card onto the glass counter.
“We’ll take a small popcorn too,” Twilight said. “‘N a small Koro-Kola.” He nudged Warriors. “Want anythin’?”
Warriors gave Twilight a disgusted look. “No, thank you.”
Twilight shrugged. “Suit you’self.”
Twilight paid for the tickets, quietly shoving his rewards card back into his wallet. Warriors wondered how he would carry the popcorn and the soda one-handed, but he was quickly answered when Twilight forced the popcorn into Warriors’ hands instead.
“Do me a favor f’r buyin’ you’s ticket,” Twilight huffed when he caught the captain’s look.
Warriors rolled his eyes. “I didn’t ask you to. In fact, had I known, I’d have chosen a different movie.”
“The other one sucks.”
“Worse than Scarecrow 3?”
Twilight nodded sagely.
Warriors wrinkled his nose in disgust. “How often do you come here?”
“I getta free ticket ev’ry Tuesday,” Twilight replied casually. “‘N aft’ I pay fer four movies, I get a fifth one free.”
“So too often, is what you’re telling me.”
“Well’n what’re you doin’ here?” Twilight snipped.
Warriors sighed, using his shoulder to open the theater door for himself and the rancher. “I couldn’t sleep,” he answered.
Stepping into the theater, they found it nearly empty. One young couple—teenaged, if Warriors had to guess—sat near the front. A group of four boys were in the middle, making a mess and snickering amongst themselves. One lone man was off to the side, hunched into a coat, seemingly asleep.
Twilight picked a spot near the back, giving them a buffer from any of the other people. Warriors hesitated, but then sighed, still carrying Twilight’s popcorn, and shuffled down the row after him. They sat in the middle of the row, Twilight putting his feet up on the chair in front of him. Warriors gingerly sat down, the seat creaking beneath him. The chairs were uncomfortable, cushions flattened with use, patched with duct tape, stained with the smell of popcorn and soda. A stale piece of sour straw candy was stuck to the floor beneath Warriors’ chair and something sticky gummed up the bottom of his boot.
Previews were already showing, the theater dark and only lit by the glow of the screen and a few dim aisle lights, several of which were out and one which flickered on and off. It was cool in the theater, enough so that Warriors stayed tucked into his coat. He was surprised when Twilight shrugged out of his duck jacket, but then again, Twilight always ran warm. Beneath the jacket, the wolf wore an old fishing sweater with a snag in the collar.
“Have you seen this one?” Warriors asked, voice low out of courtesy.
Twilight nodded. “Twice,” he answered as he shoved a handful of oily popcorn into his mouth.
Warriors crooked a brow. “Do you…like it?”
Twilight hummed. “Like’s a strong word. I don’ hate it ‘r nothin’. Ain’ as good as Scarecrow 2, no sir, but it ain’ s’bad as Corn Massacre 4 neither.”
Warriors paused, suddenly struck with the realization that he and Twilight lived in very separate worlds from each other. The captain never had time for movies before. He’d seen very few and the ones he had received high enough critical reception to warrant a ticket or rental. Always with friends, of course, never on his own. Suddenly, he worried that there would be a lot of blood in Scarecrow 3.
Warriors glanced over, somewhat surprised to see Twilight paying half a mind towards the previews dancing across the screen. He’d never pegged Twilight as someone for movies. As far as he was concerned, Twilight was a meathead who only ever watched hockey. Sometimes Twilight hinted at baseball too, but Warriors assumed that was because Rusl liked baseball.
Moreover, it was strange that Twilight was being so friendly to him. As Time predicted, Twilight had thawed as they got to know one another, but it was a slow creep. So slow, sometimes, that Warriors worried they’d gone backwards. Twilight at least tolerated Warriors’ presence in the office now, exchanged niceties in the mornings (only after his morning coffee and cigarette, of course, never before), and would even trust Warriors with the key to the supply closet.
It was weird that Twilight made his presence known at the theater, bought both their tickets, although Warriors presumed it was to get that free movie even faster, and sat beside him. Maybe Twilight was just that enthusiastic about Scarecrow 3. Or, maybe, Warriors hoped, Twilight was becoming a little less hostile.
“Mm, I wanna see that one,” Twilight said, nudging Warriors.
The captain was drawn from his thoughts in time to see some kind of monster lash out and grab a woman. Twilight jumped slightly at the sudden scare cut into the preview, but there was a stupid smile on his face. Clearly, he enjoyed it. It was the giddiest Warriors had ever seen Twilight, and the captain couldn’t help but smile himself.
The pale wash of the projector glow illuminated the rosy apples of Twilight’s cheeks, drew out his freckles, and made his missing front tooth that much more obvious. Twilight tipped the bag of popcorn towards Warriors. The captain hesitated, but then plucked a kernel from the top and savored the salty artificial butter flavor.
The boys a few rows ahead of them quieted as the previews ended and the sound came up. Warriors heard the projector clicking in the screening room behind them, and then after a moment of darkness, the movie began. He glanced to the side, seeing that the lone man was still asleep. He looked ahead and saw the young couple were practically sitting on each other.
“Do I need to see the first two?” Warriors whispered, leaning in so Twilight would hear him.
The rancher shook his head. “Nah, these one’s ain’ real lore heavy. All’s you gotta know’s Mili Pere—she ain’ in this one—her character summon a demon in the firs’ one ‘n it lives in this scarecrow on this farm.”
Warriors nodded, knitting his brow. He wondered how that was supposed to work. Maybe he would watch the first two just out of curiosity. He didn’t know who Mili Pere was either, but the way Twilight said her name, Warriors assumed she was a regular actor in these sorts of movies.
Several minutes of characters creeping around the screen filled the theater. A shadow flicked in one frame, making Warriors gasp slightly, but his own jump was dwarfed by the rancher’s squeak. Twilight had seen this movie before, and if Warriors were to believe him, knew where all the scares were…
Warriors glanced over at Twilight. He had his popcorn in his lap, watching the movie through his fingers. Warriors felt some apprehension building up in his chest and then, suddenly, there was a spray of blood and a shrill scream as one of the characters was slaughtered. Warriors grimaced at the gore. The boys ahead of them snickered and heckled the actors on screen. The young couple was getting handsy with each other, and the man still slept.
“That part always gets me,” Twilight snickered sheepishly.
Warriors paused, glancing down when he felt it—Twilight’s hand clutching the captain’s bicep as if to steady himself. Warriors swallowed hard, forcing his gaze ahead though it was impossible to pay attention to the movie as a dark blush rose in his face.
“You’re squeezing me,” Warriors choked out.
Twilight paused, uncurling his fingers. “Sorry,” he mumbled, offering a meek smile.
Warriors cursed himself, his arm cold where the wolf’s touch had been just a moment before. Twilight’s soda was empty, the popcorn dwindling towards the bottom of the bag. Warriors took another piece, grimacing at the cold butter making the kernel mushy.
Another scare. Warriors flinched. Twilight turned into Warriors’ shoulder, grabbing onto his coat again with a wavering giggle. Twilight caught Warriors’ stare and moved to let go of him again, but instead, Warriors smiled and settled his arm over Twilight’s shoulders to keep him there.
Twilight said nothing, though his posture tensed. He clung to the captain for a moment more, his eyes darting between the screen and Warriors’ face. Warriors refused to look at Twilight—he could hardly stand the thought of it. He knew what expression Twilight had to be wearing just then. It was one of vulnerable surprise which cut through his usual scowl and brought out his round face and big eyes. Warriors had seen it before when he wiped paint from Twilight’s face without asking, when he caught him on the ice before he fell, when he recovered something from the floor Twilight dropped while juggling too much with his one hand.
It was the kind of look which forced Warriors to recall scraps of foggy dreams. Dreams about touching, about warm flesh, dreams of Twilight’s lips plucking at the captain’s skin, little whispers lost when he woke up.
Warriors grimaced, adjusting his legs. He felt a pinch in his trousers. The blush across his body made his coat stifling, especially with the living furnace hiding against his side, but Warriors had to leave it on because it was long enough to protect his dignity.
Some expository scene flashed across the movie screen. The boys had gotten bored. They were huddled low, crouched over each other’s phones, a faint whitish glow spotting the ceiling above them. The young couple were contained in one seat now, the girl on the boy’s lap, the two of them melting in the dark to look like one grotesque lump. The man was still asleep, his snoring was audible.
“You smell nice,” Twilight mumbled.
Warriors wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear it. He doubted Twilight meant to say it out loud. Still, he dared to look down. Twilight’s head rested on the captain’s shoulder. There was something in Twilight’s face just then which Warriors had never seen before. Desire.
Warriors rolled his shoulder, clearing his throat. Twilight stirred from his dirty thoughts. He hesitated, withdrawing from Warriors’ side—
“It’s alright,” Warriors said before he could stop himself. “I have cologne on.”
Twilight flapped his lips. “I’m sorry,” he squeaked, looking anywhere except the captain’s face. “I didn’t—”
Warriors smiled, relishing in the little bit of power he had over Twilight just then. “I don’t think you’ve ever complimented me before, Twi. You should say it again.”
Twilight scowled, annoyed. He huffed, puffing his cheeks childishly. Warriors tried not to squirm over the look. The captain drew in a breath through his nose, forced to unbutton his coat against the warmth.
“Aincha hot?” Twilight asked curiously.
Warriors shook his head, but it was hardly convincing.
“Plenty’a open seats,” Twilight murmured thoughtfully. “Y’could jus’ set it nex’ t’ ya.”
Warriors bit his lip. “I—it’s—”
“Here,” Twilight offered.
The rancher reached for the bag of popcorn in Warriors’ lap. The captain’s eyes widened. Twilight snatched the glossy paper bag, putting just enough pressure down that Warriors had to duck his head and bite back a moan so that it only escaped as a wet little gasp. Twilight froze, worried suddenly.
“You okay?” Twilight asked. “You gone be sick?”
Warriors shook his head, ears burning. “I-I’m fine.”
“C’mon, take your coat off—it’ll help.”
“Twilight, it’s—”
Twilight opened Warriors’ coat all the way. It was dark, but Warriors could see in Twilight’s deer-eyed stare that he saw what Warriors meant to hide nonetheless. Twilight struggled to find words. He clamped his lips shut, blinked once, and then nodded quickly, retreating to his seat.
“I’m sorry,” Warriors whined miserably.
Twilight shook his head shyly, saying nothing.
“You know how it is,” Warriors tried to cover. “It just…happens.”
Twilight fussed, drumming his fingers on his own thigh. There was some frustrated look on his face, the one Warriors was so used to seeing on him. Twilight glanced over, discerning something about Warriors, searching the captain intently.
“I c’n help,” Twilight said finally.
Warriors’ mind crashed to a halt. He choked on the air, biting his tongue. “Wh-what?”
Twilight gestured to the erection straining against Warriors’ tight pants. “If you want,” he grumbled, clearly embarrassed.
Flummoxed, Warriors was at a loss for words. Here was Twilight who, even if he hated Warriors less than before, still hated Warriors. Twilight who wouldn’t speak to him right away in the mornings. Twilight who rolled his eyes and scoffed and made a fuss about working alone rather than working with the captain. And here, now, Twilight was offering to what? Get Warriors off? In a movie theater?
All of the blood rushed to Warriors’ dick in that moment. Rational thought be damned—he wanted Twilight to be the one who satisfied him. Saying nothing, Warriors only adjusted his hips forward, spreading his knees apart. He hid his mouth behind his fist, pointedly looking away from Twilight. The invitation was clear. Twilight cleaned his popcorn stained fingers on a flimsy paper napkin before he reached over the plastic armrest.
Warriors closed his eyes, face hot with humiliation. The pressure on his cock released—Twilight had unzipped his pants. A callused hand reached into Warriors’ underwear through the gap in the front, coarse fingers blindly feeling the length of the firm cock in the dark. And then, those same fingers wrapped around Warriors’ dick and began to stroke.
Warriors let out a haggard breath through his nose, biting down on his knuckle to keep quiet. Twilight’s hand felt smaller than it looked and it moved in sure, strong pumps. Surely only having the one hand made it considerably stronger than most, and the rancher’s rhythm was steady and powerful.
Since coming to Kokiri City, Warriors had found company as quickly as he always did. A few married couples, a handful of older women, a couple of older men too, occasionally someone his own age. But none of them had been like this because he didn’t know them. Warriors didn’t know what they liked to eat for lunch, which teams they rooted for, what pisswater beer they preferred. He didn’t know whether or not they were good with children or gave stray kittens flea baths in the breakroom sink. Whether or not those acquaintances had any work ethic was of no concern to Warriors, and he didn’t know if what they showed him was only a mask hiding something much more precious underneath.
A hot sigh escaped Warriors, a low noise riding on it. He clamped his hand over his mouth to muffle the sound, his brow pinched and eyes screwed shut tight. Arousal coursed through his body, making his thighs clench and ears throb. The sounds of the cheap horror movie on screen were distant, as if coming from another room.
Warriors was consumed by all those idle thoughts and lost dreams he’d written off over the last few months. The glimpses of Twilight in the shower, sightings of his body in the locker room mirror, that sweet coveted smile Warriors had been privy too only once or twice before which he craved so desperately because it made his stomach turn and knees buckle and—
“Ah,” the captain breathed out, opening his eyes.
Twilight’s hand lingered, staying in Warriors’ pants as the captain’s cock twitched, burbling out a few more drops of cum as the orgasm faded. Sweat and heat clung to the captain’s cheeks and neck, he lifted his eyes to see Twilight was looking at the movie, not at him. It stung a little, but then Warriors glanced down and caught the shine of his fresh hot semen coating the rancher’s fingers.
Twilight drew his hand out, fingers open, cum stretching and dripping between them. He paused, clearly dancing without any direction for a moment. Warriors’ eyes widened in realization. With his only hand covered in the captain’s cum, Twilight was too shy to grab at the napkins. Warriors wrestled a few of the thin napkins open, wiping Twilight’s fingers himself. The cum was still warm and wet, disintegrating the tissues almost immediately. So Warriors used more of the napkins, wiping and balling until it was all gone, until only the smell lingered. Once the movie was over, the captain figured they’d wash their hands and be done with it.
Warriors stamped at his damp cock with the last of the napkins before he zipped up his pants. He glanced over, hesitating to thank Twilight, but brashly, the rancher stood up and wedged himself over Warriors lap, beelining for the door. He tripped, barely caught himself, and scrambled to recover as Warriors stood to help.
Warriors hurried after Twilight, following him to the bathroom. Twilight moved fast, clearly trying to ignore the captain. He shut himself in a bathroom stall, unmoving as Warriors used the side of his fist to knock on the metal door.
“Are you alright?” Warriors asked.
“M-mhm,” Twilight managed.
“I—I’m sorry, Twilight. Thank you. I didn’t mean—”
Warriors heard the lock unlatch. The door fell open. Twilight stood with his head down and shoulders hunched, face flamingo pink and his eyes refusing to look up at the captain. If Warriors hadn’t cum already, he’d have been rock hard again just then. Twilight’s own dick was obvious against the front of his jeans. He hugged his thighs together, as if trying to hide it.
“You don’t need to be embarrassed,” Warriors said, unable to keep himself from laughing at the absurdity of the night. “You just jerked me off, after all.”
Twilight winced. “I shouldn’a—I mean I jus’ shoulda—”
“Twilight,” Warriors said quietly, reaching out.
Twilight drew away, but not entirely as Warriors slid his hand against the rancher’s cheek. His blush was warm to the touch. Warriors could see something like anxiety burning in Twilight’s eyes and the rancher looked like he was on the verge of crying.
“Do you want my help?” Warriors asked gently.
Twilight dithered. “Y-you don’t gotta—”
“Well, I owe you, don’t I?”
Twilight grimaced. “I-I dunno.”
“I won’t touch you if you’d rather I didn’t—”
“I want you to,” Twilight confessed in a hiss.
Warriors froze, failing to comprehend the admission. Twilight was standing there before him, shy and horny, confessing that he wanted Warriors to help. The captain opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t find the words. His eyes moved down to the wolf’s erection still caught in his pants. Somehow, though, Warriors couldn’t find the strength. Something in him resisted.
Twilight’s words said one thing, but his voice said another. He still wouldn’t look at the captain, his shoulders drawn up and hand clenched into a fist. Despite his desire, it was clear Twilight wasn’t ready to face it.
“I, ahem, I’ll keep our seats,” Warriors managed. “Do you want a refill?”
Twilight’s eyes darted up, searching Warriors.
“Your soda. I’ll get it while you…do what you need.”
Twilight melted somewhat, closing his eyes as a sigh left his nose. If he was disappointed, it didn’t show in the relief he displayed instead. He nodded wordlessly. Warriors nodded too, leaving the wolf behind in the bathroom stall.
The captain heard the bite of Twilight’s fly being unzipped. Before he heard anything else, he washed his hands in the sink, used the noisy air dryer, and then went out to the lobby again for fresh napkins and a second cup of soda.
Left in the bathroom, Twilight sat on the edge of the toilet. He let out a sigh, dropping his chin to his chest, his fly open, he stared through the gap in his boxers to the hard erection peeking through the fabric.
“Why’d you do that?” Twilight hissed at himself.
Still, he took his dick in hand, beginning to jerk off. Warriors wanton pants rang in Twilight’s ears, the way the captain had bit into his hand to keep quiet, that look of desperate need on his face when he was close to finishing. Twilight’s palm could still feel that soft, firm tissue in his hand, hot and alive and pulsing. The smell of Warriors’ cum, the feeling of it on his fingers. If Twilight had less shame, he’d have been on his knees sucking the captain’s cock instead.
Twilight grunted as he came, shooting his load over the side of his hand. It splattered against the faded stall door, slowly dripping down over the dents and scrapes. Twilight took a long moment to catch his breath, leaning his forehead into the side of the stall.
His face was hot, sweat gathered beneath his knees and dampened his pits. When he licked his lips, he could taste the butter from the popcorn on them still, and the salt stung the tip of his tongue enough to bring him back to the present.
Twilight had sworn off casual relationships. He fell too hard too fast, and it never ended well. Either they left or he pushed them out. The wolf had resigned himself to solitude, but then Warriors—beautiful, captivating, charming Warriors—had slipped into his life with as much grace as the captain executed in his footwork.
Twilight was humiliated, his thoughts clearing as his cock began to soften again. He sniffed, balling up thin toilet paper to wipe the cum from the stall door. All he could ever do was make himself useful, and Twilight was desperate to be useful. He was only glad Warriors hadn’t praised him for the little favor, else Twilight would have been putty in the captain’s hands.
Anxiety began to nibble at him. Would Warriors think Twilight was easy? Would he think Twilight had very little respect for himself? Would the captain think Twilight was trashy?
In the lobby, Warriors stared at the self-serve soda fountain. The cashier had vanished from the concessions counter, so the captain couldn’t ask him to pull up the order. It dawned on Warriors, frustratingly, that he knew very little about Twilight, including what soda he’d been drinking. Warriors felt terrible for not paying attention in hindsight. Twilight had been so receptive to the captain’s needs, and yet Warriors couldn’t even recall what drink the man had ordered.
Warriors dropped his head to his shoulder with a tired sigh. He’d only intended to let his eyes glaze over in the theater before he drove home and inevitably failed to sleep despite the outing. Instead, he found himself stressing over what horrible sugary rot Twilight liked to guzzle down. The thought of Twilight swallowing anything made Warriors’ ears hot. Quickly, the captain picked a soda at random and thrust the cup against the lever.
When Warriors returned, Twilight had his seat again. Clearly he’d been worked up enough that it was quick and painless and he was peering at the movie though it was obvious his mind was somewhere else. Warriors joined Twilight again, sitting next to him. Twilight barely looked over as the captain put the paper cup in the holder at the end of the armrest between them.
“It was Hydroblast, right?” Warriors asked hopefully.
Twilight glanced down at the cup. “Cola,” he replied.
Warriors fretted. “Sorry, I’ll get—”
“S’okay,” Twilight whispered. He took a sip anyway, ruminating on the taste.
The air between them was awkward. Warriors wasn’t sure what to say. Instead, he forced his attention onto the last 30 minutes of the movie rather than focusing on how badly he wished Twilight would hide against his arm again. He’d missed most of it, being lost in his own head and then in his pleasure, but it didn’t seem to make a difference. He vaguely recognized the characters as they were picked off one by one. Twilight continued to startle at nearly every scare, but he kept a white-knuckled grasp on the armrest rather than dare reach for Warriors again. The boys were watching now, leering and hooting at every death. The young couple was gone. The man was still asleep.
The credits rolled. The lights came up. The credits ran out. The theater emptied. Twilight and Warriors still sat in their seats, even as the late staff came in with their brooms.
“I suppose we should leave,” Warriors said. “I’d imagine they want to close.”
Twilight glanced over, nodding after a moment. Twilight tossed the last of the popcorn in the open trash bag on a janitor’s cart as they passed, though he kept the half-full cup in hand. At the doors, the men shrugged into their coats. Twilight rested the drink on the edge of a pot hosting a rubber fern as he fought with his sleeve, using his mouth to hold the collar of his coat in place.
It was the first time Warriors had really watched Twilight. He knew the wolf had a penchant for holding things between his teeth. For the first time, it dawned on Warriors that it was a substitute for all 10 fingers.
“Can I help?” Warriors asked.
“I got it,” Twilight grunted, voice muffled through the fabric in his mouth.
Still, Warriors grasped the back of the canvas coat and tugged it, helping the seam of the sleeve over Twilight’s shoulder. Twilight looked down, his cheeks faintly pink.
“...thanks,” Twilight murmured.
Warriors smiled. “You need only ask.”
Twilight rolled his eyes, chewing on the end of the straw as they pushed the doors open, stepping into the brisk night. The wind had come up while they were inside and it bit with a damp edge. Warriors flinched from the cold, hunkering down into the collar of his wool coat to hide. Twilight strolled down the front sidewalk, tucking himself away on a short cement wall where the wind was broken by a thick hedge.
The rancher set aside his drink, digging into his coat pocket for a paper carton of cigarettes. He tapped one out, taking it between his teeth to hold it while he put the carton away. When he withdrew his hand again, he had a metal flip-top lighter. He ducked his head towards the side of the building. Warriors watched a dim orange flame dance, illuminating Twilight’s freckled face, before the end of the cigarette took with a scarlet glow.
“You’re still here,” Twilight said briefly.
Warriors stirred, lifting his eyes away from Twilight’s chapped lips. “Ah, yes.”
The captain was overly aware of himself then. He wasn’t sure why he’d followed Twilight into the dark corner of the lot. He should have simply walked to his car, shivered while the heater began to work, and then driven home and left behind the surreal events of his evening.
Instead, Warriors sat down on the short wall beside Twilight. The rancher paid him a passing glance, but then tipped his head back to blow smoke through his nose and up into the night.
“Like I said,” Warriors admitted, “I couldn’t sleep. I don’t think I can sleep now either.”
Twilight closed his eyes, humming softly. “Why’s that?”
Warriors shrugged. “I’ve never been good at sleeping. Even now, I just…lay awake. Stare at the ceiling.”
“You worried ‘bout som’thin’?” Twilight asked.
Warriors glanced over, frowning softly. “Since when do you care?”
Twilight paused, withdrawing some. Warriors cursed himself for asking so directly.
The captain shook his head. “I don’t know,” Warriors answered after a moment. “Maybe.” He stared into the distance, watching one letter on the side of the grocery store across the street flicker on and off. “What if I never skate again?”
“Plen’y else t’ do,” Twilight answered.
“Not for me. All I’ve ever done is skate.” He looked down, knitting his brow. “And back home—I mean in Castle Town—people are waiting for me.”
“Ganon?” Twilight guessed.
Warriors shrugged, nodding. “Sure, but Artie and Lana and…and Cia.”
“Cia?”
“My…” Warriors struggled to come up with the word. “My girlfriend,” he said finally.
Twilight flicked his gaze over, blowing more smoke through his nose. “Didn’ know you gotta girlfriend,” he said. “Though I s’pose y’oughta.”
“Why’s that?”
“You’re the sort that would. Handsome ‘n smart ‘n people like ya.”
Warriors snorted. “Hardly.” His smiled faded. “Listen, Twi, about tonight—”
“I’s just helpin’ you out,” Twilight waved off. “Don’ think nothin’ of it.”
Warriors nodded. “Fine. I promise I’m not usually like this.”
“Yeah?” Twilight asked, laying on his back.
“Are you?”
“What?”
Warriors gestured vaguely. “Well, I mean, do you normally beat off people in movie theaters?”
“More oft’ than I care to ‘mit,” Twilight lied, covering his eyes with his arm.
“...oh,” Warriors said.
Twilight ignored the captain’s tone. The disappointment in it. Of course Warriors thought very little of Twilight. Of course he had a girlfriend waiting on him. Twilight needed Warriors to play it cool, to not feed his stupid crush more than he already had.
“Oughta get goin’,” Twilight said, kicking at Warriors lightly. “S’cold. You got a press release thing t’morrow, yeah?”
Warriors nodded, standing up. He would’ve liked to sit there a little longer, enjoying this strange soft side of Twilight. But it was clear the wolf had enough of Warriors for the night and was pushing him away again. Inexplicably, some part of Warriors hurt at the thought that this was routine for Twilight, that it had meant nothing, that Warriors wasn’t the first and he wouldn’t be the last. A tiny nagging jealousy, a dash of heartbreak.
“Good night, Twilight.”
“Mhm.”
Warriors sighed, shoving his hands in his coat. He turned and walked back to his car, leaving the rancher behind on that little wall. When Warriors turned the ignition over, he glanced up to see Twilight was opening the door to his own truck. The cab lights in the truck came on for just a moment, and then as they darkened, the foggy headlights came to life.
Warriors rested his forehead on the steering wheel. “Let it go,” he told himself.