It was a warmer night, almost too warm for a suit.
Nikolai walked regardless, too wound up from the day to take a taxi and risk a conversation. Besides, his apartment in Garden Towers wasn’t far enough from the financial district to justify the expense. Even if the expense was hardly pocket change.
He could use the exercise. Too much time on a computer wasn’t healthy, and with the market and paperwork all digital, he spent most of the day sitting down.
It was a nice night.
The streetlights had just come on, the sky darkened to a dim blue. Here in the city, it was impossible to see the stars, but Mother was probably enjoying the cloudless spring night at the estate.
Crickets chirped in the hedges and potted plants, growing silent when he passed by. A few birds still sat on wires, but they were quiet. Nikolai could hear the low hum of distant traffic. A slight breeze in the air carried the scent of food; no doubt someone cooking with a window open.
His stomach rumbled. Nikolai’s building wasn’t far off, but a snack wouldn’t ruin his appetite.
He kept a few options in his bag anyway.
Niko stopped to fish out a granola bar.
A sudden crash came from the alley. He dropped the bar.
Nikolai looked into the dark alleyway, wary. A metal dumpster lid was swinging, no doubt it had banged against its metal side.
A shadow moved, fast, scrambling out of the dumpster.
A raccoon? Some sort of animal-
Nikolai grabbed his phone, turning on the flashlight.
Eyes reflected the light back at him, but it was no raccoon.
A foxboy- teenage? Adult?- stared, frozen. A rotten chicken carcass in its mouth.
It- he- was filthy and had no clothes. Naked and streaked with grime.
Bones jutted through his skin, and Nikolai could see every frantic pulse of his ribs as he breathed. His collarbones seemed ready to burst through.
The foxboy was trembling, black fur puffed and ears swiveled back. Tail between his legs. The white tip was gray.
Fear, Nikolai knew. There was no growling.
It was like seeing a stray bearded dragon or parrot or tiger.
Because surely this was a pet. Foxboys were far too rare, far too exotic to be anything but.
He didn’t even know it was legal to own one in the city.
Well. The poor thing wasn’t owned now. No collar. Unfed.
“Hey there,” he finally managed to choke out. “You want something to eat?”
Ears perked forward.
Nikolai slowly, without taking his eyes off the animal, bent down to pick up his granola bar.
He stayed crouched low, squatting.
“Here you are.”
He held out the bar.
The foxboy’s pupils grew wide. He dropped the carcass, thank God, and darted forward.
He snatched the bar and retreated. Sat in front of his previous prize, the chicken, guarding it.
At first, Nikolai worried about the wrapper, but no. The foxboy ripped it with ragged and broken claws and shoveled the food in so fast it would have choked a less determined creature.
Nikolai searched his bag. He was sure he had an apple too, and yes there it was.
He offered it, palm open.
The foxboy’s fur was less puffy now, his ears forward and tail happily swishing.
“You’re a pet, aren’t you?” he asked softly as the animal approached slower, eyes on the apple and nose twitching. He didn’t answer, focused on the singular mission of eating.
Now that he was closer, Nikolai still couldn’t tell how old he was. He didn’t have experience with such things. He was small, but didn’t have the figure of a child, but that just could be his boniness.
“Were you left here?” he asked. It was rhetorical. No one accidentally lost such a distinctive animal for so long without looking. Not to such a degree that their lost pet was this sick.
The smell was awful too- stank of rot and sweat and possibly urine-
The foxboy had finished the apple, core and all, and looked up at Nikolai for more.
He didn’t have more food on him, but he held out his hand, palm down and relaxed.
The foxboy carefully sniffed at his knuckles, tongue flicking out to give his hand a little lick.
Oh, he was precious. Even in this state, Nikolai could tell he was adorable.
Nikolai slowly moved to pet the animal between the ears. His dark fur was so soft, despite that it was oily and greasy. Only God knew how long it had been since he’d been washed.
The foxboy leaned into the touch, pressing so hard he nearly fell over.
“You want to come home with me?” Niko asked.
A pause. The tip of the creature’s tail flicked.
“I’ve got food,” he coaxed.
That was the magic phrase, because the foxboy headbutted his hand, rubbing his cheek on it.
Message received.
___________________
The puzzle was getting the foxboy inside.
He followed well enough, but he was nude and Nikolai was pretty sure it was either illegal to own a foxboy without a license, or it was against his lease, or both.
Maybe he could sneak him up to the tenth floor unnoticed. He prayed silently as he coaxed the animal inside, through the lobby, and to the elevator.
No one was downstairs, and the elevator was already on the first floor.
He pressed the button, the gray steel doors sliding open.
“Come on,” he said, stepping through.
The foxboy did not follow.
Shit.
Nikolai held down the open door button.
The foxboy’s fur was standing on end again, and he peered into the elevator.
Nerves.
“I know, but it will take us upstairs to my home.”
The tail curled up between the foxboy's legs.
“That’s where dinner is,” he pleaded.
The foxboy ducked his head, lowering himself to a crawl as he slinked inside.
Nikolai felt bad- he did- but ten flights of stairs was not a journey worth the risk.
The doors closed.
The elevator began to move.
The foxboy scrambled to a corner, making himself small against the wall.
Whines poured from him like crying, his eyes darting, pupils tiny in a sea of blue.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Nikolai reassured him, but it was futile.
He reached over to pet him, but the foxboy flinched.
Touch from a stranger wasn't going to help.
Instead, Nikolai felt for his keys and hoped no one else needed the lift.
Finally, after an eternity watching the numbers tick up, the doors opened.
The foxboy darted out.
Why was he so fast-
Nikolai went after him, and luckily the animal had frozen in the hall.
Still low on the ground, ears moving on a swivel. Was he confused? Never used an elevator before, probably.
It must seem like magic to him.
Nikolai could see dark letters on the nape of the foxboy’s neck, but there was no time.
“Come on, food this way,” he said, putting a gentle hand on the creature’s shoulder. He guided him to his apartment, praising him.
“Good boy,” he breathed. “Just a moment.”
He ushered the foxboy in, closing and locking the door tight.
Nikolai had promised there would be food. He tossed his bag aside. Better to fulfill that sooner than later, or there might be a problem. He didn’t know this animal.
He fetched a bowl and grabbed what fruit he had.
“Here.”
The foxboy didn’t even wait until the bowl was fully on the floor before shoving his face into the blueberries.
“I’m going to cook now,” he told him. “Then I’ll give you more.”
The letters were more visible now. They sat just below where his fur began.
Nikolai craned his neck to read them at a better angle. They were tattooed on. Perhaps the previous owners didn’t like collars?
At least it wasn’t a brand.
Juno, they read.
Nikolai let Juno eat as he got out a pan.
Then he paused.
What could foxboys eat?
Juno’s teeth- from what he’d seen of them- were not the same as human teeth.
He pulled out his phone. Thank God for google.
The list was large enough that feeding him wouldn’t be too much of an issue. It boiled down to ‘no spices’, ‘light salt’, ‘no chocolate’, and ‘less processed’.
More than he expected.
Nikolai had picked out a steak for himself earlier that week, and luckily the package came with two.
He set water to boil in a pot as he chopped potatoes. Usually, he’d heavily salt the water for taste, but not this time.
He’d make his own, seasoned food, after cooking the plain meal for Juno.
Once the potatoes were fork tender, he drained them and let them cool on a plate before searing a steak.
He added a bare amount of salt. It didn’t take long until it was rare. A little too rare for him, but that’s what was advised.
Nikolai added the steak to the plate, and cut it up for his new buddy.
He turned and jumped.
Juno was staring up at him, silently, barely a foot away.
“How long have you been there?” he asked. He only got a few blinks in response.
Weren’t foxboys supposed to talk?
He shook it off before going over to switch the empty bowl for the dinner. Nikolai rinsed the dish and filled it with clean cool water.
Honestly, he should have offered water first.
Juno was chowing down, but slower. Good.
Nikolai fixed his own dinner, and turned on the television. He sat on the couch.
The smell coming off of Juno mixed in an unpleasant way with the scent of a cooked meal.
Nikolai wrinkled his nose as he ate.
“You need a bath,” he told Juno. The foxboy was on all fours still, lowered with his tail wagging. His genitals were hanging.
Nikolai looked away, face hot.
“Clothes too,” he said aloud, focusing on his show.
___________________
Showering Juno wasn’t as hard as he thought it might be.
Juno sat on the tile, still and well-behaved as Nikolai worked a second round of shampoo into his fur.
Gray water, an improvement from black, swirled into the drain. The soap wasn’t even lathering, which meant a substantial amount of grime.
Nikolai was only in his boxers, having given up any pretense of staying clean himself.
“You’re being very patient,” he told Juno. “Thank you.”
Juno made an odd little sound, something nearly akin to a bird. A sort of… warble.
But he didn’t move, and maybe that was just a nice little sound.
Nikolai could see a lot of googling in his future.
The easy part was Juno’s fur-less skin, but his tail took ages to get clean, and the top of his head was no better.
He washed Juno’s ears the best he could (after researching how) with a damp cloth.
“At least you didn’t have fleas,” he told Juno. “We’re all done.”
Nikolai toweled Juno’s sopping wet fur the best he could.
“Do you want me to use a hair dryer?” he asked. The towels were just not enough.
In response, Juno shook like a dog, spraying droplets everywhere. Nikolai threw up his hands.
“Juno, please,” he laughed. “Alright, I get it. No more.”
Juno chirped and clicked at him, and smiled in a very human way.
Nikolai couldn’t be mad at him. He was too cute.
“Well, I’m going to shower. I’ll be out soon.”
___________________
Nikolai changed into his pajamas after washing up. It was early, but he was just worn out.
Juno wasn’t on the couch like he expected. He was curled up on the rug, tail neatly tucked into him.
“You want to sit on the couch, sweetheart? It’s allowed, promise.”
Juno’s head lifted, unsure.
“You don’t have to. I just thought you’d be more comfortable.”
Juno laid back down.
Oh well.
Nikolai grabbed his laptop and searched foxboy clothing.
There were a few promising results. Socks with the fronts open to allow for claws, trousers with slits for tails. A skirt or two with the same feature.
Shirts were all cutesy patterns, but there was nothing preventing Juno from wearing a normal, fairly priced shirt.
He ordered a pajama set too.
It was the underwear that made him pause.
Why were they all jockstraps?
He flushed, and switched tabs to get away from the pictures.
It made sense, unfortunately. Easier to accommodate for a tail if there was no true fabric to get in the way.
Nikolai ordered the underwear.
___________________
He put Juno to bed after a snack; the foxboy’s tummy bulging from fullness.
Juno still didn’t want the couch, so Nikolai gave him a pillow and draped him in a blanket. A large pet bed was added to the shopping list.
He considered taking off work tomorrow, but it was a friday. They’d have all weekend to figure things out.
