While Mason and Chris’s parents busied themselves in the living room, Jake and Chris cleaned up in the kitchen, handling the numerous plates, platters, and pie pans that had accumulated over the course of the meal. Chris kept his ears peeled for the occasional whisp of conversation from the other room, his dad’s gruff, good-natured rumble nearly inaudible over the sound of the garbage disposal, while Mason’s bright laughter rose above the noise and brought a warm smile to Chris’s face, even it was all he could hear from where he was standing.
“Mmm? What’re you smiling at, big bro?” Jake asked with a sly smirk stretching across his canine muzzle. That smirk was the most ‘Jake’ expression Chris could imagine; even if his brother had been a trout instead of a fox, Chris could pick him out of a police lineup with that cheeky grin alone.
“Smile? Me?” Chris retorted, forcing his face into a dour, exaggerated frown in an instant. Jake let out a sharp, yipping laugh that trailed off in the end before returning to the dishes.
The laugh… That’s new. Guess that’s how foxes laugh? Chris thought to himself. Dunno what a reindeer’s laugh sounds like, but knowing my dad I won’t have a chance to find out.
Before long, the dishes were stacked to dry on the counter, the silverware put away, and the leftover pie chilling in the fridge for the inevitable midnight snacking. Chris tried not to look too eager to get back to Mason, calmly drying his hands on a kitchen towel, only to catch a glimpse of his hand once again. Before dinner, the nail had looked a bit darker, but not anything that was worrying. But now…
Each finger now sported a thick, dark nail at the end, smooth and rounded at the end, and the fingers themselves were… swollen? No, they were unmistakably thicker, but they didn’t feel bruised or tender at all. They were just bigger, stronger-looking, thicker, and with a dusting of deep brown fuzz beginning to sprout along his knuckles and down the back of his hands. In fact, they looked-
Chris dropped the towel in the sink and rushed out of the kitchen to the living room, while Jake let out another quiet fox laugh. “Jeez, at least try to be subtle…” he sighed as he followed after, his big bushy tail wagging mischievously behind him.
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“Well, ma’am, I’d better get back to the old house,” Mason was saying apologetically as Chris walked in with Jake behind him. “I was going to put down some new wallpaper before bed, and I need to get the glue mixed up, so…”
The husky’s voice trailed off as he spotted Chris, his gently curved tail wagging happily at the sight of the other man. Chris walked up and put on a hand gently on Mason’s shoulder, piping up with, “Heading home? Want me to walk you back? I need a little exercise to burn off all that food, so if you want?”
A rhythmic thump-thump of the husky’s excited tail against his leg was all the answer that Chris needed, but more to the point Chris was worried about what was happening to himself and wanted a moment alone with the closest thing to a doctor he could find at short notice.
“You’re sure, dear? You should take it easy after everything…” Carol started to say, only for her husband to interrupt with, “Oh, let the boy go. I trust Mason to look after him, either way.”
Chris’s mother shot her husband a sharp look, only to sigh a moment later and get a knowing look on her pointed muzzle and say, “Fine. Just try to be back before morning.”
“T-thanks, mom…” Chris replied, suddenly feeling like he was back in school, asking permission to stay over at a friend’s house.
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As they stepped out into the chilly evening, Mason in a light jacket and with bare paws padding over the light snow while Chris was bundled up tight in a heavy winter coat, they walked mostly in silence. The street Chris’s family home was on joined up with the town’s main street, where groups of carolers were marching up and down singing at the tops of their lungs for the passers-by. Chris shivered as a frigid breeze blew past him and Mason, sweeping up a trail of snow that blew straight into his face, and without thinking he found himself leaning in closer to Mason, the big canine’s thick fur creating an aura of warmth that practically radiated off of him.
“You’re that cold? I mean, it’s not so bad. Not as bad as that blizzard a couple years back,” Mason asked cheerfully, shaking the snow stuck to his furry face and letting his pink tongue loll out a bit.
“I-i-it’s… f-freezing…” Chris replied through chattering teeth as he pulled his coat tighter around himself. “Almost makes me wish I h-had a thick coat like you…”
Chris had meant it as a joke, of course, but obviously a joke meant only for himself, given that none of the animal-people here in town seemed to think there was anything strange about Chris being the only human. Did they even see him as a human? Did that word even mean anything here, or did they just see him as some kind of balding monkey?
Mason, clearly, didn’t quite get the joke. He cocked his head to the side in a distinctly dog-like fashion, one ear wiggling curiously. “Huh? For real? I always thought guys like you had a pretty dense coat? Not a lot of fluff, sure, but definitely warm enough for a night like this?” Mason queried, then his eyes twinkled knowingly and he added, “Ah… Oh, I get 'ya. Probably don’t get nights this cold in the city, right? Probably keep your coat clipped short, too. That’s probably what’s in style these days…”
Before Chris could even ask what the hell Mason was talking about, the other man reached over and put a big, warm paw around Chris’s shoulder and pulled him right up against him, the husky’s soft fur pressing right up against Chris’s cheek. Mason reached into one of the pockets of his jacket and fished out a small bottle of amber liquid and offered it up to Chris with a charming smile.
“Figured I’d bring along a little present besides that cider, just in case your mom offered eggnog,” Mason added helpfully as Chris absentmindedly untwisted the screw top and took a sip of the overly-sweet, bottom-shelf brandy. His mind was racing, but thanks to the hot dude cuddling up with him and the hot alcohol sitting in the bottom of his stomach he was at least managing to chase away the chill of the evening a bit. “Uhh, it’s actually a misconception that drinking booze will warm you up, just so you know.”
“Yeah, I know,” Chris replied shakily, taking another swig before offering it up to Mason with a nervous smile. “In that case, how long ‘til we’re back at your place?”
Chris could feel Mason’s tail thumping again at that, and the husky muttered something that sounded like “just another block or two”. Mason awkwardly tightened his grip around Chris’s shoulder, convincing himself he simply didn’t want his friend to feel the chill, letting the other man’s head rest against him gently but making sure not to accidentally let the short, velvet-covered protrusions on the sides of Chris’s head poke him too hard as they walked quietly back toward the big mansion at the end of the wooded street.