It was Sunday morning. Perfect time to sleep in, enjoy the lack of school... —and count the hours down until its inevitable return. And for one high-school junior, another 24 hours to steep in all his worst feelings.
The little suburban house was quiet, save for his mother tinkering around in the kitchen, tidying up about, and all the other things moms do. Only his room was left undisturbed.
Hours had passed, and still he lie there in the same spot, in the same bed. Plush, winter covers reached his shoulders, short, charcoal grey fur sprouting from under like a weed. Scarlet curls dangled down to his snout, framing his ears. Amid luscious hair, piercing red eyes stared sullenly at the wall.
The wall was nothing new—same, dappled texture, same, beige paint. It was easier on his eyes at least, than the window above, whose blinds seemed futile against the adamant morning.
Between the gaps, slivers of sunlight seeped through, scattering off the off-white carpet below and casting the room in a dim, soft glow.
“Lost..?” broached a young, boyish voice—calling him by his screen-name, his usual preference—hushed and hesitant, their desert-furred little snout peeking through a crack in the door. Silence compounded, and the door opened further. In tiptoed En, the little twelve-year-old fennec fox that never could just leave him alone.
“Go away...” the teen groaned. He’s supposed to be a high school junior—soon-to-be senior—not some little kid’s playmate. Least of all on a day like this... when old wounds bled new like a song’s scornful refrain.
En flinched, ears splayed low. Lost was kinda just... like that sometimes. But at least Lost’s mother was nice enough to keep inviting them back. “B-but I’m worried...” the little fox softly whined, “H-how come you’re all moody..? I mean... m-more than usual, heh...”
Lost just grumbled this time, snout tucked away under the covers, not a word for the tween even as they reached his bedside.
“Come on...” the kit insisted, warm chestnut eyes pleading the bat with knitted brows. “You’re... gonna miss out on double-xp...”
“Ugh...” the teen scoffed, tossing over to the other side of the bed and clutching the covers close. “Leave me alone, En.”
En let out a pitiful whine, cold words like shards of ice sticking their heart. “I’m sorry...” the kit whimpered. “B-but... you look really sad... Your mom said you were like this all day yesterday, too! A-and I... I just don’t wanna leave you all alone...” they murmured, kneeling dutifully by Lost’s bedside—minding the steadfast, invisible wall the teen kept up around his personal space—just cradling their head in their crossed arms as they tried not to cry.
“I’m fine,” the bat finally answered, and En could breathe again. For a second, Lost almost sounded normal, actually. But they knew him better than that.
“Fine...” the kit huffed with knitted brows and puffed out cheeks, a cute reflection of the bat’s contagious moodiness. “If you don’t wanna tell me then... th-then at least let me help. Please..?”
“Help what,” snapped the older boy.
“H-help you feel better,” En advanced, tail sweeping the woolly carpet below in a nervous back-and-forth. “I could um... get you some water—o-or hot cheetos? I could put on some music—Haken’s still like, your new thing right now, right? Or um... I could share some memes with you, or do your laundry, or brush your hair...”
“Brush my hair..?” Lost asked incredulously, shifting in his bed just a bit.
“S-sorry—” En squeaked, blushing just a bit, “—i-if that’s weird... I-I was just trying to think of other stuff I could do...”
“Just leave it, En...” the bat grumbled, his stubbornness soon finding its limit.
“B-but Losttttt..! P-pleeeease..?,” the kit whimpered in their most puppy-dog voice, “I really wanna help, I’ll do anything, please, just, let me help... please..?”
Lost shifted again. His heart ached hard enough without some stupid cub guilt-tripping him. Plus... En was actually kinda cute—in an annoying little brother kinda way. The small boy could be so obnoxiously sweet when they wanted to. He managed to avoid it this long by keeping a careful filter. That wasn’t so easy on days like this.
The bat let out a defeated sigh. Then a thought crept into his mind, primordial and nebulous, and only reluctantly coaxed into words.
Its roots reached far into darkness unexplored, far beyond the weathered eyes of his emotional mind. It seeped in with a coat of red flags and a siren’s voice. It would worry the bat, how much anxiety and excitement felt similar, but if En wanted an answer so bad, at least now the bat had one. “Fine,” he groaned, turning back around to face the fennec, “Lock the door...”
En’s ears shot straight up, tail wagging, face beaming with an eager smile. “Oh!” the kit chirped, nearly sprinting back to the door when they realized they needed to be quiet. The door crept shut then locked under careful paw, then they hurried back, careful not to make a sound despite excitement overflowing. “A-are...” the kit squeaked, before hushing their voice, “A-are we gonna cuddle?” already clambering into bed to join the older male.
“Shut it,” the bat hissed, his cheeks burning up at the sight of En’s shameless pursuit. “If you want it so bad, then yeah. We’ll cuddle. We’ll do that, and whatever else I want, too. No questions, no whining; your squeaky little maw stays shut the whole time until I’m done. That’s it. If you fuck up, you leave.”
En shivered. They thought getting scolded by Mom was bad, but this was way worse. The pointed language and harsh tone had them all shaken up, but then, Lost was wanting to cuddle, so that meant it was all okay, right?
Their lips parted in answer, words on the tip of their tongue, then cut off by a squeak. Right. They closed their mouth and just silently nodded instead. Then they turned around and shuffled up closer to Lost, sliding over his one wing, strong underneath, as the other quickly draped over them. The curve of their back slid right into place, held steady by the larger male’s chest and abs pressed snug against them.
Their eyes closed, a shuddery little sigh falling from their lips, barely able to contain the sudden swell of giddy warmth inside them. They’d only done it once or twice, but when the kit sunk into that warm, moody embrace, it felt like coming home after a long trip, and so much better at the same time. It felt familiar in the best possible way, like a kid’s favorite blanket—and one that was heated, and weighted, and softer than anything else.
And for a moment, all the kit’s concerns melted away. To this little middle-schooler, who’d only just recently had so much as an inkling of sex ed, it might as well have been magic.
Lost sighed, too. He was so close, the tip of his snout nudging the kit’s ear, his breath like hot steam in the cub’s fur. The entire mood had seemed to shift with just a little touch, and En felt it, smiling a little wider, that subtle reassurance feeling every bit as wonderful as the warm wings wrapped around them, as Lost’s body relaxed all around En.
Fur melded fur, seconds turned to minutes, as the kit settled in with just a hint of blush.
It felt really nice. Just, being able to help at all. It felt... special, to help the cool, oft-distant bat.
It felt special to be this close, too. Cuddling was their thing, just for them—no one else did that with En; no one else knew how much they liked it. No one else cuddled Lost, either—at least, they wouldn’t think so. Did he know anyone else like that? Would the teen still cuddle them if he did?
He was obviously good at it—even when they were mostly just lying there, not moving or touching, bat wrapped around them all gentle and tight at the same time, just a little squeeze here or there to remind them he was there. But especially when his wings would roam just a little, his nose brushing idly about the kit’s ear, jaw... neck.
All En could do, on the other hand, was just lie there soaking in all the warmth and attention. Sometimes they ventured a little nuzzle here or there—if it wasn’t too awkward to reach—but they didn’t know what they were doing. Not really. After all, this was only their second or third time now—with Lost or anyone else. Those anxious nerves teased at the back of their mind, but it all washed away when the kit remembered how good it felt, and noticed the little signs of Lost’s appreciation, too.
They just wondered why Lost was so cagey about it.
Once in bed, the bat seemed totally fine holding and touching and nuzzling the kit. But whenever En might ask for it, the bat just brushed them off like it was nonsense. For all the times they’d wanted and thought about it, it seemed only Lost was allowed to initiate. At best, they could hope for stealing a quick little hug here or there—but only as long as Lost didn’t think someone would notice.
Nowhere else was better for that than here in Lost’s room. It was his sanctuary, rarely disturbed even by his mother—even on more worrying days like this—and even then never without at least knocking first.
That was a big part of why En liked it here so much... This was the place Lost was most comfortable. The only place where he’d allow the kit to see this deep into the normally closed-off teen bat.
The only place Lost felt comfortable enough to do something like this.
He clung to the cub shamelessly, knowing no one would see them, holding them like a little kid does their teddy bear. For just that moment, this little fennec was all his, and he relished every second of it without question. But he did feel shame, lurking somewhere deep down. Normally he wouldn’t fight it or avoid it. He’d just let its tendrils drag him down, with darkness seeping into every bit of fur, push away everyone else lest it spill over and leave a bat-shaped scar.
Not today.
He’d sunk hours into that already, and now other feelings competed for attention. Like the peaceful warmth that cradled his breath, coaxed along by the soft little body snug against his chest. Or the flimsy bit of oversized ear that brushed against his snout, soft downy fur caressing his nose and clouding over with warm breath. Or the warm, blissful shiver that danced along his skin and raised his fur all over just a bit, as that familiar scent set in.
It surprised him, the comfort he felt in En’s scent alone. He always—or at least ever since he could call himself a teenager—thought of cubs as gross, and he still did. But En was different.
Even back then, when they’d first met. When En was just barely double digits, and Lost still went along with his mom to whatever work function was going on.
He’d caught sight of the kit stuffing their face at the snack table and scoffed, but as much as the kit seemed to overestimate the size of their mouth... at least it stayed closed when chewing, and at least they knew how to use a napkin. It made him feel surprisingly tolerant when the tiny, obviously younger fox approached him to hang out while all the adults did their adult stuff. And the more they talked, the more he noticed how neat and tidy their fur looked—tail, too—and surprisingly so for a boy their age, so nicely brushed and well-taken care of.
And now, he knew they smelled clean, too.
It was soft, comforting. Just a hint of conditioner, and just beneath, the fennec’s own natural, boyish scent, mild and warm. Pressure built at En’s back then fell, slow and steady, that starkly adolescent male chest pressing against it, bigger, more robust, a comforting feeling to the still-dainty little kit. With Lost’s nose nestled into place along En’s neck, just under their ear, each breath brought more of En’s scent, almost as soothing as the warmth between his wings, bundled up so soft and small.
Lost squeezed the kit close, gently at first, then a little more possessively, and it brought a shy little hum out of En, in a hushed, delicate voice. Butterflies swept the bat’s chest at just the sound. He let out a shaky little sigh, then pressed in closer, his hips connecting with En’s more firmly. Why did the kit have to be so god-damn cute..?
