Chapter Text
Yafya is a simple horse. He has simple needs.
He needs justice for all, equal quality of life for carnivores and herbivores alike. The highest grade carrots.
Right now, he simply needs his coffee.
It's February and the city is frozen solid, cars buried in recognizable shapes under coats of snow.
Yafya, not living too far, thought it might not be so bad to walk. Fun, even.
He was dead wrong.
In the ten minutes it takes him to walk to the coffee shop he's sure his mane has frozen solid in icy, stiff tendrils.
The warm air that wafts over his face as he yanks the door open is more than welcome.
There's a line, but he's willing to wait if it means he can continue soaking up the heat.
He snatches off his hat, burying it in the large pocket of his coat and shaking the snow out of his mane.
Satisfied for the moment he sways with the rhythm of the line, eventually making it to the front and giving his order.
He saunters over to the pick up area, standing among the various animals all as eager as him to receive their beverage. Looking down, he shoves a hand into the expanse of his pocket, feeling around for his phone-
"Yaf?"
He whips his head up so fast his mane tosses over his shoulder, nearly curling into his mouth.
He stares, briefly stupefied.
Standing before him is none other than Gosha, managing to look handsome in a large coat, scaly hands shoved deep into his pockets.
"Gosha." He hears himself say.
"It's great to see you! How have you been?" He proceeds warmly, undeterred by Yafya's loss for words.
Yafya collects himself best he can, neutralizing his expression. Gosha's smile is so bright it stings. Yafya can hardly breathe.
"I'm okay." He's proud of how level he sounds, almost formal.
"How are things?" He asks tightly, nearly grinding his teeth at the likelihood that he'll have to hear about his wife, his family. His life without Yafya in it.
Gosha's expression doesn't fall, per say. Komodo's are unreadable at best and have a wicked poker face at worst. You'd only see it if you knew him. How sadness weighs between the press of his lips.
"Things have …been quiet." He seems to settle for these terms, shrugging lightly. "My grandson Legoshi is off at Cherryton for school. I'm volunteering at the Nursery for Mixed-Species Children. Other than that ..." His expression pinches minutely. "Not much."
Huh, Yafya muses. No mention of his wife? Yafya knows he has a daughter. He doesn't press for now, curious despite himself but not stable enough for the heft of a conversation of that nature.
“Well, that sounds-”
“Grande cappuccino, two pumps of classic, extra dry!” Exclaims the tiger from behind the counter, placing his to-go cup at the pick up counter.
Yafya pauses mid sentence, glaring towards the back of the retreating tiger.
Gosha presses his lips together, barely containing his amusement.
Yafya excuses himself briefly, fetching the cup before returning to Gosha’s side.
“You waiting on anything?” Yafya asks, looking him over. He’s only got the strap of a bag looped around one shoulder, down his chest.
Yafya looks good for his age but…
Gosha has aged very well-
No, stop it. He chastises inwardly, huffing. Not again.
“Earth to Yaf.” Gosha sings gently, teasing. His smile is too familiar, self satisfied in a way that used to earn him a shove from Yafya.
Used to. Yafya’s throat burns.
“I was um …” He rasps, throat suddenly dry as he cards a hand through his mane, tugging gently at the ends. “I was just picking up a drink. Got a lot of work to do. Solitary Beastar and all.” He looks down towards his shoes, unable to stomach whatever expression Gosha must be wearing.
“I understand, Yaf.” He murmurs lowly, like he’s apologizing for something else. Yaf can hear the smile has left his lips. Fuck. “Let me walk you out?”
They step outside, the quiet like a barrier between them.
Fuck, why does he always screw things up between them? Sure, Gosha did it first but Yafya? Yafya keeps doing it.
Gosha looks out over the expanse of the street, the many cars lining it in various stages of buried under the snowfall.
“Where’d you park?” He questions, turning towards Yafya who cradles his drink in one hand, the other buried in his pocket.
“Oh, I walked.” He drops casually, stilling a second after the words leave his mouth.
“Yaf.” He admonishes immediately, the ridges above his eyes creased down with worry. “You’ll catch a cold walking around in this."
“I’ll be fine. They don’t say healthy as a horse for no reason, Gosha.” He snorts, looking down the length of the street that will lead him back towards-
“Let me take you home.” He proposes suddenly, smiling at the goodness of his own idea.
Yafya stills, hesitant.
He can’t do this. He won’t survive it a second time.
Gosha watches him, raising the ridges above his eyes convincingly.
Yafya huffs, blowing a tendril out of his face. “Fine, okay? One ride. Where’s your car?"
Gosha parked under a street lamp, the yellow glow bouncing off the thin layer of snow coating his windshield. It’s a simple black vehicle, green interior iridescent in a similar fashion suiting Gosha’s scales.
Not quite like the real thing, though.
Yafya huffs, breath visible as they approach the passenger side. “Don’t expect a thank you since you’re basically kidnapping me."
Gosha laughs because of course he does. He was never put off by Yafya’s sour demeanor.
Gosha reaches forward, pulling at the handle, cheeks dimpling under the weight of his smile. “Kidnapping, huh?” He opens the door. “Well, in that case. Since I’m lookin’ at at least fifteen years time. I might as well keep you, hm?
Yafya blinks, mouth falling open. His face is suddenly so much warmer-
Gosha, hand still poised on the handle, winks at him.
Yafya all but shoves into the car, situating himself fussily into the seat, buckling the belt with a huff.
Gosha hums, pleased, closing the door gently behind him and walking around to the driver side.
He hops in, grinning wildly, and for a moment Yafya feels like nothing ever changed.
“Just-” He glares towards Gosha without heat, arms crossing over his chest. “Just drive the car.”
“Yes sir.” He appeases in that low tone, sounding too contented for Yafya’s comfort.
He buckles in, foot on the break, and puts the car in drive.