FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The sight of the house sent a rush of warmth through Scott's body despite a chill in the air. The place looked like something pulled from a Hallmark movie. A lively evergreen wreath adorned the bright red front door, and golden lights lined the gutters, a blanket of new snow making them look soft and fuzzy. Through the living room window, a Christmas tree stood tall, its bushy branches full of trinkets and decades-old ornaments.

The corgi paused at the end of the driveway, taking it in sight. It wasn't his childhood home, but it was where his family lived. Adrian and Lance, or Pop and Chef as Scott called them, had bought the place only a few months ago, but they had made quick work of turning the neglected house into a welcoming home.

Scott began his ascent up the snow covered driveway, the weight of his duffel bag threatening to tip him ass over teakettle. He made it only a few steps before the front door swung open and a German Shepherd rushed out, already decked out in layers of winter clothing.

“Hold on there Scott, I'm coming!" Pop shouted. His face was sandwiched between a heavy knitted scarf and wool beanie. The shepherd's grin seemed to split his face in two, and his wagging tail swept snow from the ground behind him as he made his way to Scott.

The pair met halfway in a crushing hug. The corgi's back audibly cracked under the shepherd's eager embrace. The heavy scent of pine clung to the shepherd, likely from a long battle of getting the tree set up.

“Don't squish him!" Chef called from the doorway. The Great Dane leaned casually against the door frame, wearing a tank top and checkered red pajamas. His towering frame filled the empty space.

Pop finally loosened his hold on Scott and helped the corgi lug his things into the house.

“Welcome home, kiddo," Chef said, pulling the corgi into a hug that was just as firm as Pop's, although a little more awkward due to the difference in their height. The behemoth of the dane practically had to fold himself over for the hug.

“Okay, okay, you're smothering me," Scott managed, laughing as he wriggled free.

“Sorry, we're just happy to see you," said Chef.

“You're looking good," said Pop. He began peeling off his winter layers, leaving himself in a pair of checkered pajamas that matched his husband's. Tufts of bronze and chocolate fur stuck out over the waistband. Pop clapped Scott on the back, looking down with pride.

“He's been going at it all day; stringing lights, wrestling the tree, wrapping presents," Chef said, nodding at Pop. “He's had- what, three cups of coffee?"

“Four," Pop admitted with a bark of laughter. “And our lovely Chef has been cooking all day of course. We won't have to lift a paw tomorrow with all the leftovers. “

“Well, I figure I'll still cook french toast for breakfast tomorrow. And the day after that is Christmas, so I want to make a big dinner."

“Anyway, there's a pot of corn chowder on the stove that's big enough to feed the town. How about you get settled in and join us for dinner?"

Scott wasted no time in getting comfy. He dropped his bag off in the guest room that Pop and Chef had permanently reserved for him. His bed was neatly made, a tin of Christmas cookies sat on the dresser, and neatly folded red checkered pajamas sat on the bed. His dads had thought of everything. It had always been like this, ever since they had adopted Scott as a pre-teen. Ever since Scott came into their lives, they'd made certain that he was a part of every vacation, every family gathering, every important milestone. He was treated just like a biological son would have been, if not better. Now, as Scott put on his matching set of pajamas, that familiar sense of belonging settled deep in his heart.

The dining table was set with steaming bowls of clam chowder, crispy triangles of grilled cheese, and roasted vegetables at each seat. As usual, Scott's portion was the most generous. It felt good to be fussed over.

The trio took their seats and eagerly dug into the meal.

“So," Pop began between spoonfuls of chowder. The shepherd's tail lightly tapped between the legs of the chair. His ears perked in the corgi's direction. “How were your first college finals?"

“They were tough, but I passed them all," Scott replied. “Literature just about kicked my butt though. I basically had to write an entire essay in like, an hour."

“Aww, I bet you nailed it. You've always been a natural writer, even when you were a kid. Remember that paper you wrote on The Great Gatsby in high school? I still have it around here somewhere."

Scott laughed. “Are you saying I peaked as a high school freshman?"

“Sometimes I forget you're not a kid anymore," Chef chimed in. His deep voice always seemed to rumble right into Scott's chest, even when the tone was light and playful. The grilled cheese triangles were tiny in his large hands. “I think it's the ears that do it. I always thought you would grow into your ears, but they just kept growing with you."

Scott looked down at his plate, a shy smile spreading across his face. He'd always been proud of his big expressive ears.

“Have you decided on a major yet?" Pop leaned forward, his eyes bright with interest.

The corgi shook his head. “Not yet. Nothing's really clicked. I like Biology, but…"

“Well, you've got plenty of time to figure it out. Don't let anyone rush you. Explore, try different things, see what feels right. That's what I did. I don't think I decided on a major til I was a junior." said the shepherd.

“And how's Hartley?" the dane asked, tilting his head.

The mere mention of his boyfriend's name brought a grin to Scott's muzzle and a blush across his cheeks. “He's good. Really good. He passed all his classes this semester too."

“And he's treating you well?" Chef asked, keeping his gaze steady. It was just like him to be concerned. Scott didn't mind.

“Always. He's a total sweetheart. And he's protective of me, just like you two. Some guy called us 'fags' in the store the other day, and Hartley scared him so bad, I thought the guy was gonna have a heart attack!" Scott laughed at the memory. His dads laughed too. “He's almost too perfect, y'know? He's way out of my league. Half the time, I have no idea what I'm doing."

Both Pop and Chef paused their meals, listening intently. Pop set down his spoon and rested his hand on Scott's.

“Don't talk like that," the shepherd said firmly. “You're a catch. Hartley's the lucky one."

“I dunno. He's been in other relationships before. He knows what he's doing. And he makes it so easy to be with him, but there's still so much I don't know. Like the first time we-" Scott caught himself, remembering he was talking to his parents. They may have been easygoing and open, but they were still his parents, and Scott wasn't eager to get into the details of his sex life with them. “There's just… a lot I'm still figuring out."

Pop didn't push it, although he looked like he wanted to ask more questions. “You know, Scott, I still feel that way sometimes," His eyes flicked to Chef, who returned a warm and knowing smile. “There aren't any 'leagues' in life, not really. You don't have to understand how or why someone loves you, you just have to trust that they do. And if you treat each other well, that's all that matters."

Scott nodded, letting the words sink in. What Pop had said made sense, but… Could Scott really make up for his lack of experience?There was so much that could go wrong because of Scott not knowing how to be in a relationship.

Later that night, Scott lay in bed, staring at the window beside him. Specks of snow collected on the glass and melted into driplets and traced slim trails downward, gathering mass as they went. The earlier conversation had comforted him somewhat, but anxieties still flurried in his mind.

A soft knock on the door made the corgi's heart leap into his throat.

“Scott? You awake?" Pop's hushed voice cut through the stillness of the house.

Scott sat up, his blanket falling around his lap. “Yeah. Uh… What's up?"

The door cracked open just enough for Adrian's head to peek in. His fur was tousled and slightly damp from his nightly shower.

“Chef and I were wondering if you'd be up for a late-night chat. If you're not too tired," Pop said.

The corgi hesitated, but nodded and hopped out of bed. A late-night chat? Like anyone, Scott dreaded the phrase 'we need to talk'. The phrase almost always indicated something serious. Usually it meant someone was in trouble. Scott trailed behind the shepherd to the master bedroom.

The master bedroom was cozy just like the rest of the house. Soft yellow hued lamps on the nightstands lit the room. A pair of puffy armchairs sat by the window, angled toward the king sized bed in the middle of the room. Chef sat comfortably in an armchair with one leg crossed over the other and his hands rested in his lap.

Pop motioned toward the bed for Scott to sit. The corgi did so, sitting stiffly on the edge while Pop took up residence in the other armchair. Scott felt ridiculous with all of them sitting there in matching pajama bottoms. He remembered sitting in these exact same positions as a kid after he got caught stealing a Grand Theft Auto game.

“Am I in trouble?" Scott blurted out.

“What? No no no," Pop said, his tone softer than usual. “Nothing like that. Chef and I were just talking about what you said earlier. About Hartley and what you said about not knowing what you're doing."

“Oh. I didn't mean to make a big deal out of it," Scott's ears flattened. He looked down at his hands, fidgeting his fingers together.

“You didn't. But you're eighteen, this is important stuff," said Pop.

Chef sat still with a patient smile, looking between his husband and adopted son.

Pop continued. “We gave you the birds-and-the-bees talk when you were younger, but that was all hypothetical. It doesn't really cover the practical aspects, right? The physical stuff."

The corgi's face burned boiling hot. It didn't matter that Pop and Chef weren't his biological parents, it was still mortifying to broach this subject matter with them. He searched for something to say, coming up short. “So…: He trailed off.

“So, we want you to have a safe space to learn about these things. If Hartley is that for you, then that's wonderful. But, if you need someone that's not your boyfriend, we can be that for you."

Scott swallowed hard. He looked down at the floor. He could feel his dad's eyes boring holes into him.

“We don't want to embarrass you or overstep," Pop continued. “But believe it or not, we were both young gay men at one point too. We remember how hard it was to learn these things. Hell, I think it took me about a dozen blowjobs before I stopped using my teeth."

Lance grimaced in response. “I had to break him of that habit real quick."

A tangle of nerves stirred inside Scott. He weighed his answer carefully. The suggestion his dads seemed to be making was beyond mortifying. Were they really asking if Scott wanted to have sex with them? Their logic did make sense. If there was anyone that Scott trusted, anyone that would help him learn without fear or judgement, it was them.

For the first time in his life, Scott eyed his dads as potential sexual partners. He'd heard them fucking plenty of times before. In their last house, they shared a wall, and every so often the corgi could hear the bed frame thumping against it. Although it didn't bother him, it never occurred to him to join the fun.

“If we… did this, what do we uh… do?" Scott asked lamely.

“Well, we've got a couple options. Chef tends to top, except on my birthday. So I figure he'd be the best teacher for that. And I tend to bottom, so I could show you the ropes on that. Do you have a preference? Anything you want to practice?" Pop asked.

“I think… I like topping more." Scott said. “Although… I have a knotted dildo I use every once in a while."

“Okay, good!" the shepherd said with a warm grin. “We can definitely work with that. And ya know, that's like what I've always said. The best tops know what it's like to take some dick. What do you like about topping?"

“I guess I like how it feels. It's almost like a runner's high after a few minutes. Oh, and I like how Hartley looks from the back, with his butt on me," Scott ignored the blood rushing to his face. Despite the embarrassment, it was oddly freeing to talk with his dads like this.

“You think Hartley's ass is nice? You should try Pop's," Chef teased. Pop swatted him on the arm.

“Don't be like that Chef. I'm sure Hartley's is great. But that does bring us to my next point, which is that if you're game, you could take my butt for a spin and have Chef give you some pointers."

“I… yes," said the corgi.

“You sure kiddo?" asked the dane. “We'll always be here for you no matter what you choose. There's no pressure."

Scott believed them. If nothing else, they had always been truthful. If the corgi said no and pretended this conversation never happened, he knew the older dogs would be there for him all the same. Their offer was invaluable. The chance to practice his sexual prowess, and learn from a couple older gays with at least 45 years of combined experience. Hartley would be so impressed by his new tricks.

“I want to," Scott said firmly.

The older dogs nodded and looked at each other with matched smiles.

“Okay then. Just remember; if you want to stop at any moment, tell us. No safewords or anything like that tonight. If you say no, then that is written in stone and we stop immediately. Understood?" said the shepherd as the dane nodded along.

The corgi nodded also in understanding.

The shepherd continued. “Here's the game plan. I'm gonna hop up on the bed and get into whatever position is comfiest for you. Doggystyle might be the most convenient, but it's up to you. And then Chef is going to coach you through the rest. After we're done, you're welcome to stay with us for the night, or you can head back to your room. And then tomorrow we'll-"

“Wait," Scott said. Pop quieted himself immediately. “You said the best tops know how to bottom."

“I did say that. Why do you ask?"

“I was wondering if maybe…" the corgi bit his cheek, ashamed to even say it. He directed his eyes at Chef, then down to his fabric covered crotch. The older dogs looked at each other.

“Kiddo, I'm not exactly small. I wouldn't want to hurt you. It might be best to start with something smaller. Pop mentioned he'd be happy to top you as well tonight."

A vision of Chef's cock popped into Scott's mind. Once, a few years ago, the corgi had accidentally snuck up on the dane after a shower. The dane was attempting to make a quick nude egress from bathroom to bedroom. Instead, the corgi bumped into the soaking wet dane, the dane's flaccid, dripping shaft smacking right onto Scott's furry belly. They had hurriedly apologized to each other and made their ways back to their rooms. The image of that hefty canine shaft stayed in the corgi's mind, even after all these years. “It's okay, I shouldn't have asked."

“No, you're right. If this helps you, then we should do it. It might be better that way anyways. That way we're all included," said Pop. “Chef?"

A series of microexpressions flickered across Chef's face. Worry, deep thought, and finally, stoic acceptance. “Alright. But you have to tell us if it's too much."

“I will," Scott said solemnly.

Chef lifted to his feet. He shimmied his pajamas down to the floor, revealing a thick brindle sheath above a huge set of balls that hung neatly beneath. Covering it all was a patch of thick black pubic fur. The very tip of Chef's cockhead poked out of its sheath.

He grinned and approached Scott. The size difference was much more apparent as the dane loomed over the corgi. Scott backed up on the bed, following his cue. Chef helped pull his pajamas off. The dane's aventurine colored eyes held something beyond love and reverence for Scott now, something the corgi had never seen. At least not directed at him. If he had to put it into words, it was dominance.

The dane climbed over top of the corgi, pushing Scott's legs to either side around him. He eyed the entirety of Scott's body, and began exploring with touch as well. He stroked the length of the corgi's arms from shoulders to fingertips, leaving trails of goosebumps. Then he scratched the corgi's wheat blond head, paying extra attention to the space behind the ears. Scott melted into the attentive touch, barely noticing the sensation of the dane's thick canine shaft growing in the crevice between his inner thigh and sheath. He only noticed when Chef gave a gentle thrust and poked his belly with the pointy tip. The dane was both a grower and a shower, with his erect length at least eight inches long. The pair enjoyed the closeness for a time, growing more confident in their intimacy. Pop sat on the other edge of the bed, watching, but careful not to disturb the pair.

“Are you ready, kiddo?" asked Chef softly.

Scott nodded. Chef looked at Pop, who already had a bottle of lube at the ready.

“Alright," Chef said. “First lesson. You can't have enough lube."

The dane spurted a copious amount of lube on his fingers and spread it around his fingers with a thumb. He reached between their legs to find his son's tight hole. He kept his eyes on Scott as he spread it around the corgi's ass cheeks, and then pressed a single finger slowly inside. With a grunt, Scott found himself tensing up, biting his lip, and digging his fingers into the bed sheets. Chef paused, letting the corgi work through the discomfort. Then he continued.

Chef's thick middle finger worked its way deeper inside Scott's tunnel until the other knuckles pressed on either side of his taint and the underside of his scrotum. Just the dane's middle finger hilted inside him made Scott question whether or not he really did prefer topping.

Chef watched Scott's every reaction, as did Pop from across the bed. The corgi felt whimpers and whines pull from his lungs as his dad slipped in a second, then a third finger, adding a slight thrusting motion to loosen him up. His back arched, and he found himself trying desperately to spear his ass more and more on his dad's fingers, trying to match their rhythm. Scott's manhood barely left its sheath, but despite that, a pool of precum gathered inside and leaked over the brim onto Scott's tummy. Chef had a smug grin on his face. He knew what he was doing, and he did it with gentle efficiency.

“Now, you feel this?" asked Chef, wriggling his fingers in the corgi's passage, scratching that special spot and shooting jolts of pleasure along the fibers of Scott's very core. “That's your prostate. It's like a g-spot for guys. Seems like yours is pretty sensitive."

Scott could only whine in response. He was paralyzed by those exploring fingers. The dane's lips curled into a wider smile.

“Pay attention to your partner too; obviously your prostate is a pleasure point for you, but everyone is different. Some guys like their nipples. Or their feet. Or even their ears." said the dane, grazing his fingers against each body part to demonstrate. He slipped his fingers out to trace once more around the smaller dog's now pliable entrance. “And some guys…" Chef shifted his hips to point his engorged maleness at the slick pucker in front of it. “Some guys need more than just fingers to rile them up."

“Like I said, can't have enough lube," said Chef, exaggeratedly pooling more lubricant onto his fingers and coating it on his shaft. “Start slow…"

The dane's wet cock head pressed itself relentlessly into the corgi's sphincter, pushing through the pressure even as Scott instinctively clenched. The corgi bit his lip. He didn't realize how hard he was gripping the bed sheets until Pop took his hand and squeezed it. Scott squeezed back as the first several inches of his dad's fat cock entered him.

Chef was slow, and paused periodically so Scott could adjust. His paws tenderly held into Scott's inner thighs. He pulled out, dragging the corgi's hole with it, and experimentally bucked forward. The corgi grunted, but showed no signs of pain.

“God, we're really doing this, aren't we?" asked Scott, the full gravity of the situation hitting him. His dad was inside him. Raw. While his other dad watched. Even if it was just for educational purposes, this was real and intimate.

“We sure are, kiddo," Chef chuckled. “How do you feel?"

Scott grinned widely and looked bashfully away. “It's uh… really good."

“Good," Pop said, squeezing Scott's hand. “We only want what's best for you."

Chef rode Scott a little faster, his grunt and Scott's moans joining together in a symphony. Pop lay beside Scott, holding his hand and lovingly scratching his ears. He had to move as the dane hunched over and planted his hands on either side of the corgi. The dane added more force into the downwards motions. Their bodies rubbed together, the dane's stubbly grey fur against the corgi's dense fluff, the bigger male taking just as much pleasure as he gave. The dane watched his son take his sturdy thrusts with stern yet caring eyes.

“That's it… such a good boy. Your Hartley is a lucky man," Chef grunted. He placed a palm on the side of Scott's face, brushing the corgi's cheek with a thumb.

The warm canine erection filled Scott entirely, pressing against his organs and making space for itself deep inside the younger dog's body. The only way to measure time was by counting his dad's deep pumps. The bigger dog's knot began bumping at his rim. The pair were fully in sync, the fat cock's pulses matching the corgi's heartbeat.

The thrusts grew jerkier. Even a man as practiced as Chef tended to lose control at the grip of a young male's body. The dane's knot swelled and bounced against Scott, who wrapped his legs around his father in an effort to egg him on further. As much as Scott wanted it, the knot was just too big. And his dad didn't force it. Scott's own cock poked further out. He reached to grab it with his free hand, but the dane stopped him and pinned it to the bed.

“Don't let your bottom cum too fast if you want another round," Chef panted. Sweat dripped from his brow onto the sheets above the corgi, along with a thin line of drool from his jowls.

The colors of the dane's speckled green eyes, the dark grey fur, that tuxedo black nose all faded together as Scott was lost in hormones. The corgi's head sunk back against the bed as he surrendered his body in the most vulnerable way. Chef slammed his maleness inside his son once last time, easing up just before the knot was able to pop inside. Instead, the knot bore down on the corgi's asshole, begging for entry. The rest of his dad's cock spasmed and throbbed inside, filling the corgi's guts. Potent dane cum leaked endlessly into Scott, a slimy mess making its home inside. His dad's heavy ball sack rested on top of his nubby tail.

The dane kissed his son on the forehead, and gracefully extracted his penis, leaving a gushing flow of warm seed trailing behind. Scott panted, his nerves awash in an afterglow of pleasure. His dads moved to either side of him, caressing his pecs and precum covered stomach.

“How're you feeling, kiddo?" asked Pop after a moment.

“Ready for my next lesson," Scott grinned up at his dads, who looked at each other with delighted grins. Pop quickly assumed the position at the end of the bed, laying on his back like Scott had done earlier. Scott followed suit, standing above Pop.

The shepherd looked healthy for a man in his late thirties. He was somewhat top heavy, with a wide set chest and sturdy pecs. His belly was a little pudgy, like Scott's. Most notably, his canine sheath perked openly from his crotch. His bushy tail draped over the side of the bed, revealing a picture perfect pink tail hole. Despite the extra weight, he had fairly defined glutes under a heavy coat of fur. It was strange, to say the least, standing over his father like this.

Chef found his place as well, opting to stand behind Scott, slight to the side so he could see the action without interfering. He had to squat down to speak into Scott's ear.

“Alright, let's start the same way we did," said Chef. “Plenty of lube," He spurted a glob of lube onto Scott's fingers. It was unexpectedly cold, but it warmed up quickly. It felt different than what Scott usually used. Slicker, less oily.

“Ready?" Chef asked his husband, who returned a half grin and a nod. The shepherd was uncharacteristically quiet, like he knew his place was as a test subject rather than an actual lover. Chef nudged Scott.

The corgi dipped two fingers underneath his dad's tail, hearing the shepherd inhale sharply and wince in response. Oops, he realized. Chef had only started with one finger. Pop took the fingers with no further complaint. The muscled ring flexed around Scott's digits, warm and wet.

“See if you can find his prostate. It's a few inches in, right at the top. Pop goes wild when you play with it," said Chef. Scott rotated his fingers around, searching along the shepherd's inner walls. It was soft and inviting, but he didn't feel it. He furrowed his brows. He wanted to make his dad feel good.

“Here, follow me," said Chef, sensing the corgi's trouble. He lubed his fingers, and slipped them inside underneath Scott's. The shepherd's ring stretched tighter to accommodate both dog's fingers. Chef guided Scott's digits another inch in, where he felt a firm spot underneath the velvety walls. A grunt from Pop told Scott it was the right spot. Chef let out a short chuckle. “There you go, you weren't deep enough."

The look on Pop's face was more powerful than any pheromones could have been. The corgi pumped his fingers in and out, using his new knowledge to work over his dad's prostate with increasing precision. The shepherd threw his head back in bliss, his hole loosening around his son's fingers. It was a look of pure, filthy lust.

“Now like I said, this won't work on every guy. But try it on Hartley next time you see him, I'm sure he'll love it," said the dane. “You ready to show Pop who's boss?"

Scott hesitated, caught in a moment of indecision. He'd already taken one dad's dick up his still dripping ass. Why not finish the job by filling his other dad up?

Lube. Line himself into position. The corgi's eyes settled on the shepherd's willing body. Their eyes met. Scott reached down to grip the base of his shaft and angle it to greet the older dog's tail hole.

It went in just a quarter inch at a time, bringing gasps from Pop. Scott placed his hands on the shepherd's thighs as he began rocking his hips to and fro in short strokes. With each one, Scott felt his cock pulse a jet of precum into the shepherd' passage, which flexed around his length. Soon enough, he was able to slide up to the knot. The corgi's cock was, of course, smaller than what Pop was used to, but he wouldn't have been able to tell by the fervent moans Pop let loose.

“That's it, find a good rhythm," said Chef, still standing close. The dane's hands trailed along the corgi's body, encouraging him to keep going. The dane's wet dick pressed against the corgi's back, reminding him of the claiming he'd received minutes before. Scott made a mental note to ask Pop how long it took to tighten back up after getting fucked by the dane.

Scott groaned. He leaned over Pop, finding that his face only reached the shepherd's bush of chest fur. The change in position caused the corgi's penis to angle slightly upwards, where the older dog's prostate was. It bumped and grazed against it, making the shepherd writhe underneath. Chef sat down and watched, whispering encouragements to Scott.

The corgi increased his pace, finding his cock to be much more sensitive after being neglected until now. His balls began to tighten as they slapped against his dad's ass. Both males grunted and moaned. Scott nestled his face into his dad's chest and felt a hand on the back of his head. His cock throbbed harder and harder, bringing blood to his fully grown knot, which began to pop erratically in and out of his dad.

“Mmph, I'm gonna-" Scott stammered out.

“Go ahead"

“Fill 'em up kiddo"

Scott forced his hard ball of flesh inside one more time with an audible squelch, sealing himself tightly to his father. The shepherd's snug hole squeezed around the corgi's length, milking it dry. His orgasm immersed his entire body as his balls pumped jet after jet of thick corgi cream inside. His dad hugged him in a tight embrace, with Scott readily relaxed into. He kept working his cock back and forth, trying to prolong the climax as long as possible until he's fully emptied himself inside.

Minutes of afterglow later, Scott popped himself out without much fuss. A gradual ooze of jizz followed his cock tip.

The trio collapsed onto the bed with Scott in the middle, spent from their family bonding. Chef pulled the corgi into a little spoon position, not minding the cummy mess his own cock had created on the corgi's backside. Pop lay in front tenderly brushing the side of Scott's body with a thoughtful look on his face.

Scott shifted on the bed, suddenly uncomfortable with the post orgasm realization that he'd fucked not just one, but both of his dads.

“Look Scott," Pop started. “Hartley's with you because you're you. He doesn't care if you're a little inexperienced. And even if you are, you've got nothing to worry about if we're judging by tonight's performance."

Chef squeezed the corgi from behind in agreement. “Tell us what you're thinking, pup."

“I guess…" said Scott, attempting to string together the jumble of thoughts flying around his hormone addled mind. “I'm glad we did this. Even though my ass hurts like hell."

“Trust me kiddo, you'll get used to it eventually," said Pop.

“You mean-" Scott's eyes shot up in

“No reason this has to be a one time thing. Besides, we need at least one reason to keep you coming home for Christmas," Chef teased. Like Scott needed any other reason beside the pure love he felt from his dads.

“Oh- speaking of Christmas, can Hartley come over for Christmas dinner? He says his family is usually in bed by six, so he wouldn't miss anything at home," said Scott.

His dads laughed. “Of course, Scott. Might be a good chance to practice what you learned," said Pop. Scott blushed, although he knew any sense of decent he had held around his dads was now tarnished.

The family nestled together, sharing in each other's warmth for the rest of the night.