(FB Story) The Lake

Edit: added some cover art! >:3 stealth edit: tweaked don’s face

So I've had a bit of free time on my hands lately, and I decided to try writing a fic like old times! I'm rusty af, lol. So this digs into Toffee's past relationship with Don, and how it began. This is back when Toffee still went by the name Tobias/Toby. Content Warning on this one! For references to sex, religiously-rooted homophobia, and uh....well, while it depicts a relationship between two consenting adults, there's still a definite power/experience imbalance in this that makes things kinda funky. Don is fun to write, but he's definitely creepy at times. Hope y'all like!

~~~

“I can’t.”

Toffee’s face falls. It’s the answer he’d expected, but he’d still been hopeful enough to try anyway. He’d come to visit his father’s office after Sunday service, bearing freshly-made sandwiches, hoping to catch the reverend in a good mood. 

But Merriweather held firm. “Oh stow the kicked puppy act, Toby. You’re an adult now. You don’t need yer daddy to drive you out to the lake for a weekend.” He scoffs, spewing crumbs across his desk. “You know how ta get there on yer own, son. Invite some friends, toast some marshmallows, get outta my hair for a couple days, cripes.”

“I could take some friends to the lake anytime.” Toffee folds his arms, then winces. He can hear the pout in his voice, and he opts to try again. His father has never been convinced by whining. 

“I want to go with you, pop. The trip is a tradition for us, remember? The last weekend of every September. I just think….it’s been a while." Merry raises an eyebrow, and Toffee feels his courage already begin to fail. "Since we've, uh, y’know, gotten the chance to talk. You’ve been busy with the church, and I’ve been busy with my studies, and I just…” He pauses, before settling on the truth. “I just…miss spending time with you, dad.”

Merry is not moved. His lip curls into a now-familiar sneer, and Toffee hates it, hates the man his father has become. “This may be news to you, Tobias, but you are not my only child. I have a baby at home. You really think it’d be fair a’ me to up and leave poor Maple all alone, with no help? Just to please you?”

You’ve never helped Maple a day in your life. Toffee has to bite back his impertinent snarl. He’d learned long ago that arguing with the reverend was an exercise in futility. “..Alright, pop.” He concedes with a sigh, gazing down at the carpet. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I was only thinking about myself.”

“Forgiven, Toby.” Merry waves his hand in dismissal, ever the magnanimous one. “It can’t be helped. I did right by you as a parent, but yer mother is the picture of self-absorbed. Whenever you bitch an’ moan about somethin’ foolish, I know it ain’t really you talkin’, my boy. That’s Ellie’s blood, takin’ control of you like a demon. ‘Elzebub, I call her.” He chuckled at his own joke, bumping a shoulder fondly against Toffee’s. “Well, give it enough time and we’ll exorcise her for good.”

Go fuck yourself. Toffee counts to ten in his mind, willing his fists to unclench. He feels black, bitter rage churning at the back of his throat like bile- and he quickly chokes it down, forcing a thin smile for his father. “....Hm.”

“I’ll take you some other time, son.” Merry jams his sandwich crust back in Toffee’s basket, cheerily dusts crumbs from his hands. Already, he’s turning back to his paperwork- and Toffee’s shoulders sink, knowing he’s been dismissed. “....Next year, for sure.” 

“Hey, uh-I could take the kid.”

Both men startle. Neither dog had noticed Donavan enter Merry’s office. Donavan, nonplussed, fixes the pair of them with his trademark golden grin. “I mean, I got nowhere ta be this weekend.” 

The leopard seal ambles inside the office with a rich, booming laugh, the sound instantly dominating the small space. He slaps a massive webbed hand down on Toffee’s shoulder, making him jump. “What’d’ya say, pup? Ya wanna get some manly outdoor bondin’ in with ol’ Don?”

“Ugh, Donavan, don’t.” Merry rolled his eyes. “Don’t be the kid’s pity-date.”

“Wha-It’s not a pity date!” Don puffed up, indignant, “The kid just said he wanted to spend time with you specifically, so I thought-”

“What, that you could swoop in and replace me?” Merry mocked. He came round his desk, stepping forward as Don stumbled back- and draped his own arm over Toffee’s shoulders. “The boy might be hard up for company, Don, but I doubt even he’d be keen to spend an entire weekend with you instead of his father-”

“I’d love to, actually.”

Both men snap to Toffee in surprise. Merry gawks at his son, slack-jawed, and Toffee drinks in the sight. Strolling over as casually as he can manage, he loops his arm through Donavan’s. “You’re busy, pop, you said so yourself. I think it’s sweet of Don to offer to fill in.” Toffee smiles brightly, as innocent as he can manage, “This way, we won’t even need you.”

He leaves, taking care not to glance back at his flabbergasted father. As he drags Don out of the office, he tries not to cringe at the other man’s disbelieving laughter, terrible toothy grin so wide it threatens to split his face.

~~

The weather is lovely out on the lake, but it always is this time of year. As Don’s truck crunches along the dry shore, Toffee breathes in the surrounding forest air, thick with the scent of pine and ripe blackberries. It’s lovely. It should be lovely.

If only the company were better.

Throughout the entire drive there, Don had blasted crusty hard rock on his truck’s tinny speakers, leaving Toffee’s ears ringing. He’d gotten into a loud argument with the owner of the local tackle shop, as he insisted on sampling a taste from each and every bucket of fishing bait. As they unloaded the truck and unpacked the gear, he’d made a juvenile joke about “pitching the tent” that’d left Toffee rolling his eyes, idly wondering how far of a trek it’d be back to civilization. 

At least now, there was peace. Armed with enough fishing bait to choke a trout, Don had cheerily set out to catch dinner. Toffee had left him there at the shore with his pole, opting to peel off his shirt and go for a swim. He floated lazily on his back, enjoying the gentle lap of glittering lake water against him, the way the afternoon sun warmed his coat. The stillness of it all was heavenly, and with a sigh, he remembered why he so loved to visit the lake every year.

….Actually, it was a little too still. 

Toffee opened his eyes to glance back to shore- and startled when he realized Donavan was gone. All that remained of him was his fishing pole, the bait buckets and overpriced tackle lying abandoned in the sand.

“....Don?”

There was no response. The lake was silent, save only for the gentle drone of cicadas and the sound of rippling water.

Toffee bolted upright, treading water. “Donavan?”

Was that a tremor of fear in his voice? Of course not, he certainly wasn’t afraid. Don was his father’s oldest friend. Toffee knew the man could be a little sleazy, sure, but he certainly wouldn’t abandon him all alone in the woods, not with nightfall approaching in just a couple short hours-

“BOO!”

Don burst from underneath the waves in an explosion of lake water, and Toffee shrieked. 

As the air rang with Don’s idiotic laughter, Toffee flushed bright pink, scowling. “Not funny.”

“No? I thought it was hilarious.” Don grinned wide, not so much as flinching when Toffee grumpily slung water in his face. “I knew you’d be more fun to hunt than the trout.”

“You….hunt trout?” 

“Huh. Yeah, I guess I could.” Don mused. “Other seals like to do open water hunting, catchin’ fish with their own teeth and claws, eatin’ em fresh. They say the thrill’s in the pursuit. The chase. Never really been my thing, but I get it, I guess."

He swam in a lazy ring around Toffee, and Toffee found he couldn’t take his eyes off him. Don sliced through the water with ease, showcasing a grace Toffee had never known him to have on land. He watched the glisten of Don’s sleek, spotted, waterproof coat, his hair plastered to his face and neck. He watched the alien way Don’s nostrils sealed shut every time he dipped his head below the waves. Toffee had never before noticed the way their bodies truly differed, the way Don’s form was perfectly adapted for this foreign environment, quite literally built for power and speed underwater. Toffee suddenly felt quite frail in comparison, as he clumsily treaded water with his own thin limbs. 

Don’s head broke the surface again, and Toffee watched the way water dripped from his whiskers, jewel-like droplets sliding almost playfully down his muscled arms, his broad shoulders, his wide, strong chest-

With a start, he noticed that Don had noticed him watching, and he flushed even darker, grumbling. But Don only laughed- too loud, always too loud- and struck a pose. “I know, I’m a sight to behold in th’ water! Seals are pretty majestic when we swim, ain’t we?” He flopped onto his back, deliberately sending a small tidal wave of lake water Toffee’s way. “I could do this all day!”

“Whatever.” Toffee groused, wringing out his sodden ears. “I imagine swimming’s easy when you’ve got that big beer keg to help keep you afloat.” He jabbed playfully at Don’s gut.

“Ack, I’m wounded!” Don clutched his belly in mock offense, but he didn’t quite manage to hide his amused snort. “.....Say, what’s got you so prickly today, pup?”

“I am not prickly.” Toffee scowled, “And don’t call me pup.”

“Oh?” Don cocked his head. “Then how come I heard you tell a guy at youth group that he would- and I quote- ‘burn in the fiery pit for all eternity’ if he “succumbed to the temptation of the flesh’? Kinda intense there, bud.”

Toffee felt his cheeks darken, and sunk into the water to hide them. “You do a lot of lurking in the church, don’t you?” He muttered. “Do you make a habit of spying on me?”

“Hey, I just like to keep afloat a’ things, kid.” Don punctuated this by folding his arms behind his head, floating comfortably on his back.

Toffee looked downward, into the water. “I didn’t mean to frighten him. I just….He’s got his first girlfriend, and I didn’t want him to be led astray, do something he can’t take back. They can do whatever they want after they’re married.” He huffed. “....Pop says that sexual immorality is a demon that must be fought with every weapon at our disposal.”

“Sure…..but it’s your dad sayin’ that. Not like he’s got much room to talk when it comes to keepin’ pure.”

Toffee snorted a laugh- then winced. “....Yeah.”

He heard the sloshing of water as Don swam closer, then felt Don’s hands gently grip both his shoulders. “Hey, I’m serious, Tobias. I volunteered to drive you out here ‘cause I’ve been worried about you. What happened? You were so full a’ life growin’ up, and now I hardly ever see you smile.”

What happened? Oh, nothing, nothing at all really. My dad only fucked my best friend and blew up all our lives for no reason, that’s all.

“Mm.” Toffee said.

“You know what I think?” Don squeezed his shoulders, trying to coax Toffee into making eye contact, “I think you hold everybody to an impossible moral standard. Yourself included. You wanna be good so bad, for God, for your dad. It's like you're so scared of sinning that you're afraid to start living. It's no way to exist, son." Don pressed on. "We’re all flawed, Toby, we all sin. You don’t think the Almighty knows that? That's why he forgives us. Each and every one of us is worthy of the Almighty’s grace, his mercy, his love, his forgiveness. You included.” Don’s brows knit together, a rare look of concern on his face. “....You know that, right, kid?”

Toffee scoffed at that, but he didn’t move away. The world seemed to fall away, bit by bit, until all that seemed to exist was the gentle rock of the waves against his body, and the weight and warmth of Don’s palms on his shoulders. The moment stretched on, heavy with meaning- Toffee found himself at a loss at how to respond to a version of Donavan that could actually manage sincerity.

“....Don.” He settled on, at last, “....Don’t you still need to catch dinner?”

Don laughed, shaking water loose from his whiskers. “I got it covered, kid, don’t worry. Now ol’ Donny boy may be too fat to chase after these fast little fish, but lemme show you a trick."

He placed a hand under the water for a long moment, and kept perfectly still. "I’ve found that if you’re patient enough….”- They both watched as a fat rainbow trout slowly ventured close to inspect his palm. Before Toffee could blink, Don had ripped it clear out of the water, the fish thrashing and gasping in his grip. “The prey comes to you.”

Try though he might, Toffee couldn’t pretend he wasn’t impressed. He gave a round of applause that was only half-sarcastic, rolling his eyes as Don gave a pleased, theatrical bow. Then, in a single cheery, unceremonious motion, Don raised the struggling trout to his maw- and neatly bit off its head. 

Toffee screeched again, at the horrifying squelch sound it’d made, the way the fish’s body continued to twitch, at the river of blood running down Don’s chin- but Don only chuckled, muffled through his mouthful.“....Huh. Why’d I even bring a pole?”

“I’m hitchhiking home!” 

“Kid, no!” Don swam after Toffee as he furiously paddled back to shore, tossing the fish aside. “It’s dangerous! Yer dad’ll have my head on a platter!”

“Don’t talk about heads, you freak!”

“Was it the fish? You not in the mood for trout? I could fry up some perch instead! Hey, come back! What’re ya hungry for?”

“Nothing ever again!”

“I brought hotdogs!”

“Agh!”

~~~

An hour later, the sun had begun to sink low on the horizon. Don, true to his credit, had indeed brought a pack of cheap hot dogs, and they weren’t half bad roasted in the campfire and downed with a handful of greasy potato chips. Don managed to win Toffee’s (begrudging) forgiveness with a surprise pack of store-brought marshmallows. They sat on a log toasting them over the fire to perfect gooeyness, before savoring them between graham crackers and chocolate.

It was nice. It reminded Toffee of many years ago, back when he and his family would embark on their annual autumn lake trip. His sister would regale them with spooky stories before bed, his dad would provide accompanying dramatic shadow puppets against their tent wall- cryptids and varmints and murderers with hooks for hands. Toffee would put on a brave face through it all, and then his mother would secretly hold his hand afterward, when he’d be too scared to sleep.

Toffee sighed. He’d never realized how much he’d miss it.

“You’re lookin’ awful blue, kid.” He was shaken from his thoughts by Don rummaging inside the cooler. “You old enough for a beer?”

Toffee shook his head. “I’m only twenty.”

The beer bottle hissed as Don popped off the top, and he offered it to Toffee with a sly wink. “Hey, I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“....No thank you.”

Don shrugged, and brought the bottle to his own mouth. “Suit yourself.”

Quiet fell between them, the night still and empty save for the crackle of the campfire. Toffee peered into the dwindling flames, lost in thought.

“That’s not what’s waiting for you, you know.”

Toffee’s ear twitched at that. “Huh?”

“The fire, I mean.” Don scratched at his jaw, yawning. “Nobody’s doomed to burn for eternity just cause they got up to a lil premarital hanky-panky with their girlfriend or contemplated havin’ a beer.”

Toffee’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know?”

“Welllllll.” Don mused, “To be honest, I don’t think an all-powerful divine creator woulda zapped us into existence, surrounded by all these earthly temptations, and not expected us to indulge a little. Food, booze, sex….those are some of the greatest pleasures in life, son. What’s the harm in livin’ a little? Just say a little prayer afterward an’ be forgiven.”  He finished, waving his hand.

“That is a gross oversimplification of-!” Toffee’s sputtered, gobsmacked at Don’s callousness. “How can you say that? You, an authority figure within the church! That is not how penance and redemption works!” 

Don only raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by Toffee’s yipping fit. “And who are you to say?” He countered, “Isn’t the Almighty all-knowing, all-loving, all-forgiving? Does he not see the sin in your heart long before you’ve even thought to act on it? How do you know you haven’t already been forgiven?”

“I-!” Toffee paused, furious, fumbling for an answer that wouldn’t come. “I just haven’t. It doesn’t work that way, Don.”

“Do you think your dad’s goin’ to hell, Tobias?”

“What? Of course not!” Toffee surged to his feet, outraged at the very implication. “Pop is a good man, a holy man, he’s done immeasurable good for the community, he’s-”

“Broken the holy covenant of marriage, broken your poor Ma’s heart, dumped his kids for a new baby- which he conceived out of wedlock, by the way.” Don hummed, listing each point off on his fingers. “And that’s just the stuff you know about.”

“....He is forgiven.” Toffee insisted, balling his hands into fists. “He is.”

“But not you.”

“.....Shut up, Don.” Toffee slumped back down on the log, suddenly feeling exhausted.

“Rules for me, not for thee.” Don snorted. “Yer a tough nut to crack, kid. But I think if you were really so concerned with stayin’ virtuous an’ pure, you’d go off an’ be a monk or something. As it stands, I think you like sittin’ around an’ feelin’ bad about yourself. Sorry to break it to ya, kid, but wallowin’ in misery won’t keep those secret homo thoughts in your head at bay forever. Eventually, somethin’s gotta give.”

Toffee bristled at that, every hair on his body pricking upright. “For the last time, I’m not-”

“Not gay, sure, whatever. That why you were gawkin’ at me like an addled owl back in the lake? You’re not nearly as subtle as you think, kid.”

Toffee went so red he felt it, blood flooding his cheeks hot enough to burn. “I-I wasn’t.” He managed, rather lamely.

Don shrugged, jabbing at the campfire with a stray branch. “So ya got a good look at my tits, big deal. And lookit that, no thunderbolt of holy wrath came crashing down from the heavens to turn ya into ash. I don’t think God cares, kid. If the guy can forgive Merry friggin’ Meadowsweet, I figure there ain’t much else he can’t forgive. You lived. It’s fine, Toby, I promise.”

“No it’s not!” Toffee shook his head violently, bitter tears welling up. “It’s not, Donavan! It’s wrong, it’s vile, Dad says-”

“You really think you’re the first person to have these kinda feelings?” Don argued. “You know how many church folk come to me frettin’ over this exact same thing? Young, old, rich, poor- the people you think of as so good and chaste- you think they haven't done the things you only dream about? Hell, you think I haven’t experimented a little? Get a grip, kid-”

Toffee freezes at that, both ears perking up. “You?”

“Well, uh- I mean…” Don rubbed at his neck, suddenly sheepish. “...Yeah. Maybe a little. In college, back before I met yer dad and fell in with the church. Make no mistake, Donny loves the ladies! And the ladies love yours truly. But…..don’t get the wrong idea, son. I may be a man of god, but I’m not some stiff.” He slicked back his hair, trying to look cool- and failing miserably- “I partied.”

Toffee rolled his eyes, but smiled a little, despite himself. “Sure, grandpa.” He offered Don an indulgent, patronizing single pat on the shoulder. “You partied.”

Don leaned over to flick his ear, making Toffee yip. “Rude. But yeah, the point is, I did. After all, variety is the spice of life! And samplin’ all that extra, uh, flavor, when I was younger, helped shape me into the man I am today. There’s a reason why Merry keeps me around, kid. I’m not a kickass counselor because I go around handing out scripture quotes and phony platitudes. I’m a kickass counselor because I can meet people where they’re at, full honesty, no judgement. I’m cultured.” He boasted, “Just sayin’, if you wanna help people conquer their vices, it doesn't hurt to have experience on the matter.”

Toffee frowned. “Is a representative of the church really and truly encouraging me to sin? For the experience points?” He taunted, “For ‘personal growth’?”

“Cripes, kid, no.” Don heaved a massive, frustrated sigh. “I’m encouragin’ you to live. Climb down off that godly pedestal for a second and join the rest of us mortals.” He gestured toward the lake, chuckling lightly. “Come on in! The water’s fine.”

Toffee didn’t respond, slipping instead into sullen silence. He turned Don’s words over in his head for a long moment, listening as Don tossed his empty beer bottle back in the cooler, humming an inane rock & roll song. What a confounding, obnoxious man.

The fire had begun burning low, and for the first time that night, he grew aware of the chill of the air. He shivered, miserably wrapping his arms around his knees.

Don noticed, and patted the log beside himself. “...Hey, uh. It’s warmer over here, y’know.”

Toffee said nothing, and for a moment Don wondered if he’d heard. He was surprised, however, when Toffee picked himself up, and tentatively settled down next to Don. Close, but not touching.

“Attaboy.” Don praised, and Toffee ducked his head, pretending to ignore him. He clapped a hand down on Toffee’s shoulder- as he often did- except this time, he didn’t pull his hand back. Instead he wrapped his arm around Toffee’s shoulder, and drew him close.

It was warm, Toffee noted. To his own surprise, he felt his tail thump against Don- just once- content.

“Listen, son…” Donavan’s voice was quiet, but urgent. “Your daddy may be a preacher, but he doesn’t speak for the Almighty. You’re a good kid, Toby. Doesn’t matter if he doesn’t see it. The right people will.”

"....How do you know?" Toffee whispered, not trusting his own voice.

Don hesitated for a moment- then hugged Toffee close, resting his chin atop the younger man's head. "Easy. 'Cause I do."

What is this feeling…?

Toffee felt a sudden flush of something warm within him, a soft, wistful emotion he couldn’t quite name. He leaned closer against Don, hiding his face against him- and was grateful when Don didn’t pull away. He could feel the steady thrum of the other man’s heartbeat, the unyielding solidness of his body- and he realized he’d be perfectly content to fall asleep right here.

After a long moment, Don chose to puncture the silence with a question.

“What’s the furthest you’ve ever gone with a man?”

Toffee froze.

But Don’s fingers continued to gently thread through his hair. “...Just curious, is all.”

Toffee cleared his throat, forcing his voice not to wobble. “….How far have you?”

Don turned and aimed a lazy smirk at him, a look that made Toffee’s already-pounding pulse accelerate tenfold, like a train about to derail. “I asked you first, kid.”

Toffee swallowed. His mouth had gone dry. "I....I haven't done anything."

“Never?” Don barked out a laugh. "Yeesh." 

Face beet red, Toffee jerked upright to shove at him. “Fuck you!”

“I’m just sayin’!” Don held up his hands to feebly defend himself, still choking with laughter. “For as miserable as you’ve been over yer whole queer crisis, I thought you would’ve at least kissed a guy.”

“It’s. A. Sin.” Toffee hissed, “....And besides, there’s nobody I’d even want to….do that with. It’s a small town, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Well,” Don teased, “If you do ever manage to mess around with a guy, just make sure it’s somebody ya trust. Somebody who cares about you.”

Toffee said nothing for a moment, playing with a loose thread on his shirt. “....Obviously.”

“Someone who can keep a secret.” Don’s hand began to wander, sliding off Toffee’s shoulder, down his side. It caressed over his hip, then settled heavily on the younger man’s thigh. “Understand?”

Oh.

Toffee blinked down at the hand on his leg, hoping Don couldn’t hear the frantic jackhammer of his heartbeat, thudding hard enough in his chest to make his entire body quake. The cold autumn air suddenly felt dizzyingly hot. He clenched his hands, determined to steady them.

“....Someone experienced.” Toffee breathed, hardly believing his own nerve. “I suppose I'd want, um....s-someone experienced. Right?”

“Very experienced.” Don squeezed Toffee’s leg, sending a sharp jolt of heat up through Toffee’s belly. “Somebody who could teach you a couple things.”

Toffee's breathing sounded spasmodic to his own ears, panicky and loud. He willed himself to calm down. “But how would I know they’d….want me?”

He was answered by the warm huff of Don’s laughter against his nape, and the graze of very sharp teeth. “I think you already know.”

"And what....w-what, um, would he want to teach me, exactly?"

"Depends.” Came Don's voice, a low, rich rumble that made Toffee shiver. One of his hands had slunk underneath Toffee's shirt, claws tracing the trail of dark belly fur. "On what you’re up for learning." 

Toffee drew in a shaky breath. "....And if I asked you to stop?"

Don paused, and for a moment seemed almost to pout- but he withdrew his hands. "...Then I'd stop."

"And if, ah..." Toffee bit his lip. “ .....If I wanted....more?"

Don chuckled, showing his fangs, and Toffee’s breath hitched at the phantom sensation of them raking against his neck. “Hey, the ball's in your court, sport.” 

Toffee stood. 

Don watched him patiently, hungrily, pupils glinting red in the firelight. He watched Toffee hesitate for a moment, uncertain- before the younger man crawled into Don’s lap, moving to straddle him. Toffee could feel the heat emanating from the other man, could feel how much Don wanted it, wanted him- and the thought was enough to tip Toffee over the edge.

"...Then I want more."

"Demanding" came Don's answer, but even as he said it Toffee felt his strong hands move to grip him hard, ducking under his shirt, into his waistband- rough, exciting, electrifying, each touch igniting sparks beneath Toffee’s skin. 

What’s the harm in living a little?

Just say 

a little prayer after 

and be-

“Oh fuck.” Toffee whines low in his throat, rolling his hips. It’s sickening, really, how right it all feels, at how perfectly their bodies slot together, the way Donavan's claws feel digging into his shoulders, trailing down his chest, splitting open the buttons of his shirt, tongue and teeth rasping insistently against his throat, scraping, biting- god-

The first time he kisses Donavan, the other man tastes of blood.

 It’s intoxicating.

A stray breeze blows in from off the lake, rolling through their camp site. With no more than a whisper, the dwindling embers of the fire are extinguished. Together, the pair sink slowly, deeply, into the still, black night.