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"Hello, lads."

Dieter and Kristian couldn't do much more than stare for a few long moments at the man who was - biologically at least - their father. There was no fanfare, no waxing lyrical about how good it was to finally meet, just a burning stare. It felt to Gerald as though there was an immediate familiarity between him and the twins, but an awkward one. Like shaking hands with your non-dominant hand.

Bruno, standing behind the twins, clapped a hand to each of the boys' shoulders and harrumphed as the microwave beeped in the kitchen. "Well, dinner's up. Dieter, would you set the table, please?"

Relieved to be given a task, Dieter nodded, and busied himself in the kitchen fetching plates and cutlery, while Bruno softly propelled Gerald towards the dinner table. Kristian seemed a lot less unsure about the newcomer than his brother was - fascinated, almost. Gerald couldn't help but notice how the fawn's eyes followed his every move, as if studying him for future reference. He was somewhat surprised when Kris sat right beside him at the dinner table, without being prompted at all. For a moment it was just the two of them, as Bruno fussed over dinner and Dieter clattered about in the drawers.

"I...really don't know what to say..." Gerald muttered to Kris.

The boy shrugged. "It's okay. Neither do we, I don't think. It'll get better."

"I hope so. Your dad's really good for letting me stay, I just rocked up without warning today."

"Why's that?"

"Well... things haven't gone awfully well for me. I am... I was... an actor, up in Frawic and all over Doregal. My contract... uh... expired, and I just never got another one."

Kris nodded, glancing up at the stag who'd sired him. "Why didn't you come sooner?"

"I... I don't know. I should have. I should've been here years ago, Kristian. I've missed so much," Gerald sighed. Somehow, it was a lot easier to talk to just one person than to the twins and his brother.

Kris didn't get a chance to formulate an answer to that, before Dieter and Bruno joined them at the table. Kris patted Gerald's shoulder reassuringly as he fell silent, and the four stags began eating. The dinner table conversation was difficult, to say the very least, and Bruno carried it more than anyone else. He talked about his day, asked the boys about school, and prompted them to fill in details for Uncle Gerry when he could.

As soon as dinner was finished, Gerald leapt to his hooves, and began clearing plates and cups from the table. Kris exchanged a glance with his twin brother across the table, and Dieter shrugged. With a frown, Kris followed Gerald into the kitchen.

"Hey... Sorry. Felt like... I dunno, that was awkward," Gerald apologised, stacking plates into Bruno's dishwasher.

"Yeah, it was," Kristian confirmed.

The fawn nearly jumped out of his skin and gave an obnoxious bleat when Bruno appeared behind him, clapping his enormous hands on his son's skinny shoulders. Bruno laughed, and ruffled Kristian's hair before moving to the fridge and rummaging through it.

"Alright... Dieter, Kristian, I think you boys still have homework to do, don't you?"

A duet of groans answered Bruno's question.

"Thought so. Here. Dessert, homework, upstairs."

Being furnished with chocolate pudding and sent upstairs was nothing unusual for Dieter and Kristian, but Bruno's tone caught them off guard. Flashing his adoptive father a baleful glare, Kris followed his twin up the stairs, pausing to wave to Gerald as he went, who waved back and gave a half-smile.

Bruno immediately regretted his authoritative tone, but he knew it would be water under the bridge and within an hour it would be forgotten. For reasons he couldn't quite place, something about Gerald's presence had him on-edge.

"So where are you sleeping tonight?" Bruno asked, leaning on the kitchen counter opposite Gerald, mugs of tea in their hands.

"Bruno, I'll sleep outside on the deck if that's what you want," Gerald replied instantly, lightening his words with a soft chuckle. He hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Bruno looked his brother over slowly. He was still struggling to believe he was actually here. It hadn't been the joyous reunion one might've expected from two brothers who'd not seen each other in more than a decade. A lot had changed. Even Gerald's scent was unfamiliar to Bruno these days - perhaps that was why he was so ill at ease. His own scent, contained within the bath robe and boxers Gerald wore, mingled with that particular odour of travel; harsh shampoo, diesel, sweat and fast food. It wasn't a comfortable mix.

"Well... we only have one spare bed, and it's a kids' trundle that lives under Dieter and Kristian's bed. I doubt you'd even fit on that. The alternative is the couch on the mezzanine," Bruno said.

Gerald snorted. "Then I guess I'm on the couch... wait, Dieter and Kristian's bed?"

Bruno stared at his brother for a long moment, trying to discern what he was saying.

"Do they not have their own beds?" Gerald persisted.

"Oh. Shit, of course, you wouldn't know. No, they don't. They share a queen-size, always have. I tried a few times to get them sleeping separately, even in the same room, but it's never worked."

"That's... interesting. Not in a weird way, just... I've never heard of that, since..."

Bruno's lips quirked into a smile.

"But we aren't twins," Gerald continued. "Us sharing a bed was out of necessity mostly, until our parents could afford another mattress."

"True enough, though as I recall, you still made nightly trips into my bed more or less until the day I moved out of home," Bruno prodded, his smile persisting.

Gerald's ears flushed bright pink, and the younger stag fidgeted. "I... liked being held by you," he murmured into his mug.

"Among other things."

"Yes... that too."

A long silence stretched between the two bucks, broken only by the soft, low-pitched ticking of the clock on the kitchen wall. A click and a hiss indicated the fridge compressor switching on.

"Dad? Uncle Gerry? Homework's all done, can we come back down?"

It was Kristian. The fawn was already in his pyjamas, just a pair of three-quarter length cotton pants with rocketships all over them, and he stood halfway down the stairs, bent down to see the two adult males through the railing.

Bruno chuckled, glad to have the tension between him and Gerald broken, and ushered his son down into the kitchen.

"Where's Dieter?"

"In the shower. I've already washed," the fawn replied, and indeed, his fur was soft and damp, and he looked like a dandelion seed.

"Alright. Tea? Cocoa?" Bruno offered, hugging the fawn and ruffling his hair. His antlers were growing in nicely, Bruno noted; they were each about the size of a thumb, now.

"Cocoa, please dad!"

Gerald couldn't help but smile, observing the more natural relationship between father and son. He supposed his imposition had rocked the boat more than he'd thought it would, and resolved that no matter what happened, he'd stay. As long as Bruno let him.

***

The remainder of that first evening was tentatively magical for Gerald. Kristian spent a good hour cuddled up to him on the couch, while Dieter did the same with Bruno. The TV was on, more to break the silence than anything else, and Gerald felt more comfortable than he had in years. So comfortable that he fell asleep, his head resting on the backrest of the couch and his mouth open.

Kristian caught Bruno's eye and giggled, and an exaggerated yawn from Bruno brought Gerald back to the present with a snort.

"Alright kiddos, I think that means it's bed time, hmm?"

"Aw c'mon Dad, it's only ten o'clock!" Dieter protested.

"I know, Deets - but Uncle Gerry will be sleeping on the couch here for at least a few nights until we can get a proper bed for him, so that means when he wants to go to sleep, you two should leave him in peace, alright?"

That was that. Bruno fetched a pillow and blanket for Gerald, and the four stags retired to their beds.

***

As the days passed, the relationship between Gerald and the twins improved rapidly, and even Dieter eventually came to enjoy Gerald's company just as much as Kristian did. He was a gifted storyteller, and embellished his tales just bawdily enough to capture the attention of two twelve year old fawns, without crossing any lines. Not wishing to put any financial strain on his brother, Gerald insisted on remaining on the couch on the mezzanine for as long as it was needed - it was a long, deep, comfortable couch in any case, and was a damn sight more comfortable than any hotel mattress Gerald had laid on in the past decade.

Perhaps the best feature of having Gerald around was that Bruno could stop worrying about balancing work and home life; if he needed to stay later than usual at the workshop, Gerald made it abundantly clear that he'd pick up the boys from school, take them wherever they needed to go, watch their sport matches, cook dinner, clean the house... whatever he could do to make Bruno's life easier and, in some measure, pay him back for all that he'd done.

Gerald's relationship with his biological sons went from strength to strength, and it was barely a fortnight before he found himself having discussions with Kristian that he never, ever thought he'd have - the fawn trusted him enough to reveal the less mundane aspects of his relationship with his brother. It was just Kristian and Gerald sitting together on the back deck of the house at the time. Kris had just got home from school, alone, and had stomped through the house and sat down heavily beside his uncle.

"Where's your brother?" Gerald asked, immediately.

"I dunno. He didn't tell me!" Kris bleated, looking confused.

"Hey hey hey, don't worry!" Gerald rested an arm around Kris' shoulders. "I'm sure he's just out with his friends or something..."

Kris looked up at his uncle and sniffed loudly. "B-but Dieter's friends are my friends too, we do everything together. It's just like, since last week, suddenly he's spending all his time with Jack and... I'm..."

The fawn's words trailed off, and his ears were pegged back against his head as he spoke. It pained Gerald to see Kris obviously at such a loose end, and even though they'd only known each other two weeks, he felt a burgeoning responsibility to the twins.

Perhaps the sort of responsibility you might've felt if you'd raised them yourself, instead of falling on Bruno's charity. Gerald winced. As if it wasn't bad enough that most of the world would judge him harshly for his actions. He hardly needed his own brain to do it as well.

"Hm. You two haven't spent any time apart at all, have you?" Gerald mused, as much to himself as to Kris. The fawn was hugging his knees to his chest, and rested his chin on his arm to look over at his uncle. "You know... I'm happy to like... take Dieter's place for you, if you need it. I know it's not the same, but you guys are... how do I say this. You're approaching an age where..."

"Uncle Gerald, we know. Dad's already given us the talk," Kris rolled his eyes, and a hint of a smile passed his lips to see how awkwardly Gerald appeared to stumble around with his words.

"Oh god, no no! I mean you're at an age where you'll both probably start seeking some independence, both from each other and from Bruno and I. No matter how close you've always been. And it doesn't like... it doesn't make you any less close, just... divergent. But if you're not quite ready for that, I can... fill in for Dieter? Or something. I suck at this, can you tell?"

Kris seemed more confused than before, and a small silence stretched between he and Gerald.

"But... Uncle Gerald?"

"What's wrong?"

"We... uh... Dieter and I... we do everything together. _Everything,"_Kris emphasised that word, spelling it out with a knowing stare to his uncle.

"Well, yeah... so?"

Kris slapped his hand over his muzzle in frustration. "Dude, we sleep together, we eat together, we have the same friends, we share clothes, we shower together, we play on the same teams at school, we masturbate together and... s-sometimes... more..." the fawn blurted. He immediately regretted his outburst, and squirmed uncomfortably as Gerald's mouth dropped open, the older stag staring at the fawn like he'd just sprouted a second head.

"I... you... holy shit, Kris..." Gerald murmured, leaning back from Kristian in shock.

Kristian's eyes welled up, and the fawn looked momentarily as if he was expecting a physical blow to follow. He stood, shakily, and bolted upstairs. He slammed his bedroom door so hard that Gerald could feel it, and the older stag uttered a string of curses under his breath. How could he possibly have dealt with that so fucking poorly?

***

Jack's cheeks, ears and muzzle burned with the intensity of the mule colt's blush, and his heart was pounding in his skinny chest. This was the most excited he'd ever felt in his life, and it was only made better by how safe he felt. He and Dieter were in the fawns' treehouse together, their clothes strewn about the small, secluded space. Dieter was on his knees between Jack's thighs, with the mule colt's painfully erect penis bobbing softly in the tiny space between him and the fawn.

It had started fairly innocently. After the night Jack had spent with the twins in Bruno's workshop a few months prior, he and Dieter had developed a much, much closer friendship. Kristian had of course been present in that friendship, but recently things had taken a turn, and Dieter had started looking for any moment he could spend alone with the mule. Jack was entirely unused to such targeted attention from someone who wasn't a predator, so at first he'd been hesitant and nervous. But his confidence in himself had only grown since moving to Stillwater Cove, and he quickly found himself seeking Dieter's company too.

Dieter had made an excuse to Kristian that afternoon after school, and had sought Jack like a heat-seeking, furry missile. And there was no denying the explosiveness of their 'collision,' either. Hanging out in the treehouse together was something Dieter and Jack had only done once before, and while it had culminated in the two boys masturbating together, it had been somewhat awkward.

This afternoon's hangout was much more direct.

The moment Dieter had ascended to the treehouse, he'd begun to strip, and in a rush of excitement Jack had done the same. Before they were even inside, the two boys were naked together, their eyes rampant over each other's eager, fuzzy bodies.

Dieter giggled, and his eyes were fixed on Jack's crotch. The skinny mule boy displayed himself with more bravado than he ever had, and had the satisfaction of watching Dieter's penis plump up and stiffen, bobbing gently with the fawn's heartbeat, even as his own equine length dropped from his sheath. Jack's tail flagged a little as his prepuce folded back, allowing his pink and black equine member to fill out and rise, ending up jutting rigidly straight out from his crotch. A little over six inches, compared to Dieter's four.

The two boys stood and stared at each other for a long moment, silently, until Jack flexed his lower abdomen and slapped his equine penis firmly against his tummy. Dieter laughed, and playfully prodded and tugged Jack inside the treehouse, an enormous grin on his muzzle.

Jack brayed and flailed his arms as he tripped, and fell backwards with a grunt onto the pile of cushions and beanbags Dieter and Kristian had accumulated in the treehouse. Dieter stifled his laughter, and trotted forward to stand in front of Jack, his hands on his hips.

"You okay, buddy?"

"Y-yeah, of c-course!" Jack mumbled. His large, donkeyish ears swivelled and perked forward, and he couldn't help but stare at Dieter's crotch.

Dieter raised an eyebrow, and stepped closer. He was standing between Jack's spread legs, then, with his still hard penis right at the mule boy's eye level. "You like it?" he smirked, flexing his cock again and again, making it jump and bob around.

Jack's mouth was suddenly very dry, and his hands trembled just a little. He nodded, and Dieter stepped closer still, until the fawn's little member was barely a foot from Jack's hot-flushed muzzle. The mule could see every detail of it, and he suddenly realised that he'd never actually seen another penis so closely before. He swallowed heavily, and sat up a little straighter, examining it closely while Dieter put on a show for his benefit. The fawn turned side to side. He lifted up his cock, pushed it down, tugged and pulled on it, cupped his fuzzy little balls and finally, hunched over a little and gripped his shaft, stroking it firmly a few inches from Jack's muzzle.

"Mmm... yeah..." the fawn murmured. His eyes were drawn down to Jack's crotch, then, and he grinned to see the mule gingerly, very slowly stroking himself. His cock was harder than Dieter had ever seen it, flared and throbbing eagerly.

"My turn!" the fawn suddenly announced. "I wanna see yours real close, too."

Jack brayed, and released his cock - he wasn't about to tell Dieter, but he'd been moments away from cumming, just from the barest of touches and the closeness of the fawn. So when Dieter suddenly dropped down onto his knees between his hooves, and shuffled around to bring his muzzle bare inches from Jack's straining erection, the mule bit his lip painfully and dug his fingers into his palms to distract himself. Jack's ears perked forward, and the mule boy giggled, his heart racing to have Dieter examine him so closely... he could hardly wait for things to progress to the next stage, to masturbate with the fawn!

Dieter, however, had other ideas.

"Mmh. I love how like, different yours is," he commented thoughtfully, and then grinned naughtily up at Jack. "I wanna do more than just look at it..."

"I... Y-you wanna jerk off together?" Jack suggested, hopefully.

Dieter shook his head, and before Jack could say anything more, the fawn's hand gripped around the leathery base of his penis, causing Jack to give an equine squeal and involuntarily buck his hips upward through Dieter's grip. The fawn giggled, and began to stroke the mule, staring closely at every reaction, every twitch and throb that pulsed through Jack's body from his attention. Jack's glans flared almost instantly, filling out still further and inflating to a broad, shiny mushroom atop his slender shaft. Dieter groaned in arousal, his eyes fixed on it, and Jack let out a shaky moan in kind.

"Nnnh... That's so hot... I wanna lick it..." Dieter murmured, his voice thick and hoarse with arousal.

Jack squealed again, but then pushed his hips subtly upwards, hoping against hope that Dieter would actually do it... he'd never felt anyone lick him before, but nothing could prepare him for how it actually felt. Dieter knew how sensitive Jack could be, but he wasn't prepared, either. The fawn's hand squeezed softly around Jack's medial ring, and he angled the mule's penis towards his muzzle. He could feel the heat rising from it, and his lungs were full of the earthy musk of adolescent mule. It was a scent at once familiar, since it clung to Jack at all times, and much, much stronger than he'd ever experienced it. He wanted to rub himself up against the mule, to grind and buck and get covered in that scent, and to leave his own in Jack's fur, too.

With a shaky breath, Dieter dragged his hand up to just behind the flared head of Jack's penis, and parted his lips. His tongue grazed delicately over the dome of the mule's glans, and his hand slid back down to his base. A low moan left Dieter's lips, and he circled his tongue around the rim of Jack's flare.

"Ohh ffffu...." Jack whimpered.

Heat rushed through his body, and the mule brayed loudly. His balls tightened and his whole body shook, and he grunted rhythmically as he orgasmed right onto Dieter's face. Being a mule, and sterile as a result, Jack's cum was sparse and watery-clear, and pulsed and spattered weakly forth to cover Dieter's lips and chin, and run down onto his hand. Dieter squeezed the mule's pulsing cock firmly, rolling and sliding his lips and tongue lewdly all around Jack's glans, pumping his hand slowly and rhythmically while the mule ejaculated.

"Oh gosh... s-sorry, I c-c-couldn't..." Jack stammered.

"Uh-uh, that was fucking hot, Jackie," Dieter replied, huskily.

With a grunt, Dieter surged up over Jack, kneeling over the mule boy's chest and gripping his own achingly hard penis in his hand, the same hand that was coated in Jack's cum. Jack's ears perked, and he gazed up at Dieter's face, before down into his friend's crotch, watching the fawn frantically masturbating inches from his muzzle.

"Nnnh, I'm gonna cum on your muzzle..." Dieter announced, hornily.

Jack grinned.

"O-only on it? Not in it?" he quipped, with uncharacteristic confidence.

Dieter's ears pricked forward, and his stroking faltered.

Jack's hands raised to the fawn's buttocks, and he gripped his friend's rump firmly, urging him to move up just a little closer. Dieter complied, and the head of his small, humanoid penis nudged the mule's fuzzy lips. Jack nuzzled playfully at Dieter's penis, and then opened his mouth, taking almost all of Dieter's length between soft, tactile lips and pressing his broad, flat tongue along the underside of the fawn's tip.

Dieter nearly turned inside out.

"J-Jack... ahh..." he murmured, panting and huffing quietly and fondling the mule's ears. His hips flexed, and Dieter pushed his penis subtly deeper into Jack's muzzle, and drew back. In and out.

Jack met his movements, mirroring them with movements of his muzzle. As Dieter pulled back, so did he. And as Dieter pushed in, he pushed his muzzle firmly into the fawn's crotch, and flickered his tongue against his frenulum. Never before had Jack done anything that had turned him on so much, and even though he'd only just ejaculated moments earlier, his right hand dropped to his groin again, and the mule masturbated as he sucked his friend's penis.

Dieter barely lasted thirty seconds, although that was twenty-five seconds longer than Jack had lasted. The fawn's eyes were closed, and his head tipped back, while he rocked his hips and Jack worked his muzzle on his straining cock. He managed an "Oh fuck, here it comes," at the very last second, before shoving his penis firmly into Jack's muzzle.

The mule pushed his snout into Dieter's crotch, his own breathing heavy and irregular as he masturbated himself quickly to a second orgasm, a few little shots of watery seed erupting through his hand as Dieter's cock throbbed against his tongue. The fawn's load was much heavier than usual - a rush of thin, salty shots spritzed urgently over Jack's tongue, far more than his usual one or two drops. For Dieter, though, the focus of his attention was on how good Jack's muzzle felt, and once his orgasm passed, he pulled back gingerly, giggling down at the mule and flattening his ears.

"Sorry Jackie... I got a bit carried away," he murmured.

"N-n-no, don't be! Th-that was so hot I c-came again..." Jack mumbled. He rolled Dieter's cum around on his tongue, speaking awkwardly around it. Ah, what the heck, he thought. Swallowing heavily, he flashed Dieter a sheepish grin.

The fawn clambered off of his friend, and collapsed onto his back beside him, glancing down at the mule's glistening shaft as they both slowly softened.

"Hey Jack?"

"Mm?"

"Does this make us like... gay, or something?"

Jack burst out laughing, a dorky, braying laugh, and Dieter couldn't help but join in. The two boys laughed and giggled until they cried, and as they calmed down, laying on a pile of cushions in the treehouse, all alone, Jack's hand moved across to brush Dieter's, and their fingers entwined.

Their eyes met, and Jack squeezed Dieter's hand. Dieter's other hand moved to cup Jack's cheek, and the fawn clambered on top of the mule once again, but this time it was to kiss him. Their lips brushed together, awkwardly, but with tenderness and passion, and Jack found himself for the first time ever, not the slightest bit uncomfortable with being touched.

"Well?" Dieter murmured.

"If... if this is g-gay, then I'm the gayest b-boy in the world," Jack giggled.

"Nuh uh. I am!"

"The g-gayest boys,"

"I think I love you, Jack."

***

"Hey Kris?"

Gerald knocked gently a few times on the twins' bedroom door, before opening it and stepping inside. Kris was sitting with his back to the door, at a desk beneath the wide, west-facing window that overlooked the ocean.

"I uh... I'm sorry for how I reacted before."

"It's fine," Kris shrugged, replying without turning around.

Gerald pursed his lips, and stepped into the bedroom, moving around to sit on the edge of the boys' messy bed behind Kris.

"No, it's not. You told me about something that was really bothering you, you revealed a secret and I reacted with... shock? Repulsion? Something like that. It really wasn't what it seemed."

Kris slowly turned around to face his uncle, and sniffed.

"What do you mean? The stuff me an' Deets do together isn't normal, I know that."

"No, sure, but I made you feel like it was a really bad thing, didn't I?" Gerald gazed into the fawn's eyes, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

"Well... you... I guess anyone would react the way you did if they found out I jerk off with my brother," Kris shrugged. "I'd just... Dad's so accepting of everything, and he did warn us not to tell people about it, but I slipped and I wasn't prepared."

Gerald reached out, and softly rested a hand on Kris' shoulder. "You're really wise beyond your years, you know that?"

Kristian shrugged.

"And uh... there's another reason why I feel so bad about how I reacted," Gerald continued, his voice dropping a little.

Kristian looked up into his uncle's face, but remained silent.

"What you and Dieter do together... is... familiar. Bruno... your dad and I... when we were fawns, we used to... I used to... uh..."

Kristian leaned forward slightly. "It's okay, I won't tell anyone."

Gerald smiled at the fawn's reassurance. "When I was... probably a few years younger than you, actually, I used to sneak into Bruno's room at night. At first I did it because I was having nightmares and he'd let me sleep with him. As we got older, though... well... One night, I walked in and found Bruno masturbating, one thing led to another and he ended up teaching me what he was doing and why."

Kristian's mouth had fallen open, and he stared at his uncle. It was hard to imagine Gerald as a fawn, let alone the mountain of stoic calmness that was Bruno.

"I guess he was fourteen or so then, I was only seven. That uhm... continued, for quite a long time. I went looking for it. I pretended to have nightmares so we could play secret games at night."

"Did you ever get in trouble for it?" Kris asked.

"I didn't, no. We only stopped doing it when he moved out, but... he was my first. My first... everything. We did everything you can imagine together. So really, Kris, don't take my reaction to heart. I was just surprised, not disgusted in the slightest!"

Kristian giggled softly, his mood having elevated significantly. He felt like he and Gerald had shared the most intimate parts of their lives, their deepest secrets, even if those secrets were hardly private among their immediate family. Gerald was in two minds about it. Kristian was an adorable boy, full of vigour and enthusiasm and joy. He reminded him of himself when he'd been ten or eleven years old. And being his biological son, he saw Kristian almost as if he were looking into a mirror, and felt like he knew the fawn more than either of them would be likely to accept. It was hard for Gerald to miss the way Kristian's eyes dropped to his crotch when he stood up, and his heart skipped a beat. It skipped another beat when Gerald realised that he was anything but soft, but he resisted the urge to hide it. He softly hugged Kris against his hip with one hand, ruffling his hair with the other.

"Huh, your antlers are coming in nicely," he commented, idly fondling the velvety nubs buried in Kris' hair, eliciting a snort from the fawn. "Aright kiddo, I'll let you get back to your homework. I think I just heard someone get home, anyway, so I'd better get out of your room. Just... don't mention this to your dad, okay?" Gerald turned to retreat.

A quick glance over his shoulder as he left resulted in a moment of eye contact with Kristian, and Gerald flashed him a cocky grin before retreating downstairs.

"Oh hey Dieter!" Gerald called, waving to the other fawn as he attempted to sneak into the house as quietly as he could.

Dieter froze, and blushed hotly.

"How's Jack?"

"ShhhH! H-how did..."

"It's okay, dude, your dad's not home. And you know he wouldn't judge you for anything, right? Kris mentioned you'd been spending time with a kid called Jack lately, so I just put two and two together."

Gerald gave what he hoped was a sympathetic shrug in response to Dieter's horror at his activities being so transparent, and the fawn snorted, before bounding upstairs. Dieter's reaction made the nature of his friendship with Jack painfully obvious, although Gerald knew it would hurt Bruno's feelings to see his son being secretive about a relationship. With a shrug, Gerald went back to cooking dinner. He was following one of Bruno's many recipes, and before long dinner was served. Moments later Bruno arrived home from the workshop, covered in sawdust and sweat. The older stag let out an appreciative groan as he smelt dinner, and without thinking stepped forward and hugged his younger brother.

"Hey HEY, wh... watch the apron, man! I... okay, okay..." Gerald protested, squirming in Bruno's arms.

Bruno's scent enveloped him like a miasma, and suddenly Gerald found himself struggling to remain decent. The reek of sawdust and sweat, tempered by machine oil and linseed struck an odd chord in Gerald's head, somewhere between the smell of their father Ulrich, and the more sensual scents he associated with his brother. Just as he gave up struggling and leaned into the hug, Bruno released him, and flashed a wink before clomping noisily through to the dining table. He threw himself heavily into a chair, leaning back and downing one, two, three glasses of water.

"Geez Dad, are you alright?" Dieter muttered, moving to sit beside Bruno.

Bruno belched loudly, and nodded, brushing a bit of sawdust out of his ear. "Yeah kiddo, I'm fine. Finished up a big project today, and delivered it. Just tired. But it sure is nice to be bringing in some extra cash while Uncle Gerry's around."

Gerald, sitting opposite Bruno, flattened his ears and blushed beneath his fur, busying himself with serving up dinner for the four of them to distract himself from the lingering scent of Bruno, and the view of his brother's crotch he had from his vantage point. Several weeks of only relieving himself in quick, urgent sessions in the shower were taking their toll on a buck more used to taking his time. In spite of the distractions, Gerald found himself hard as a rock at the dinner table as his mind replayed some of the more visceral of his experiences with his older brother from all those years ago.

"Uncle Gerry?"

Gerald jumped, brought back to reality by Kristian's hand on his shoulder.

"Pass the salt, please?"

It looked like it was going to be a long evening.

***

As it turned out, Gerald wasn't the only one to be struggling with his urges. Later that night, as Dieter and Kristian lay in bed together in the darkness, Kris turned to face his twin, softly nudging his muzzle up against Dieter's shoulder.

"Hey.. hey Deets? I've got a stiffy... wanna do it?"

Dieter groaned, not even opening his eyes. "Ugh, no... I don't think I could even if I wanted to. Me an' Jack did it like four times today."

"What? How?"

"Once at lunch. Once in the library in the afternoon. Twice more at the treehouse after school," Dieter mumbled, his voice thick with fatigue.

Kris' heart skipped a beat, and he felt a lump rising in his throat, lifting his hand away from the hard bulge in his briefs.

"And you didn't invite me to any of them?"

Dieter was silent for several long moments, and then, "S-sorry Kris. Me an' Jack are kind of... a thing, you know? I think we're dating."

Kristian sniffed wetly, and rolled onto his side to face away from his brother. He knew Dieter and Jack were getting along super well, but that was like a kick in the nuts, it came out of nowhere. His erection forgotten, Kris lay awake for some time, until he heard his brother snoring behind him. Sleep wasn't going to be easy.

In the days that followed, it became more and more apparent to Kris that, at least for the foreseeable future, Dieter wouldn't want to masturbate with him anymore. And for a fawn whose entire sexual experience to date had involved his twin brother, the effects of that were profound. Two nights passed, and Kris was starting to feel the effects of the sudden lack of release. He lay in bed beside his brother, wide awake and staring at the ceiling. He was hard as a rock, so aroused that his lower abdomen felt all tingly and his muscles kept tensing and quivering of their own accord, even the light pressure of the sheets against the front of his briefs causing him to throb and his heart to race.

But when he pushed his briefs down and filled his right hand with lotion to relieve the pressure, the slick noises and rhythmic motion woke Dieter, and his brother complained so insistently that Kristian was forced to stop, his slippery cock aching for release.

Masturbating in bed was out of the question, then. Kris tried it everywhere - in the shower, on the toilet, even at school, but it seemed that he couldn't find the privacy to do it anywhere. Between school, sports practice, and with Uncle Gerry sleeping on the sofa on the mezzanine just outside their bedroom, sneaking downstairs at night seemed too risky.

So, after five days he stopped trying, and focused instead on suppressing his urges. For a fawn of twelve years old though, that was easier said than done.

Kristian was painfully aware of his penis at every moment of every day. He was hard all the time. Taking a piss made him hard. Even the thought of taking a piss gave him an erection, and it seemed to the fawn that it was constantly rising or falling, and his frustration was making him snappy and irritable. He and Dieter still did most things together; they still rode to school together in the mornings, still shared clothes and still went to their treehouse together most afternoons.

But these days, instead of being for naughty pursuits, the treehouse was where the twins did their homework.

And only until Jack arrived, if he did.

"Ugh, I just... I don't understand algebra at all, dude," Kris complained, sitting cross-legged in the treehouse opposite his brother, his chin in his hands. His math book was open in his lap, and he tapped at the spidery figures and equations with his pencil. "What the heck is X meant to be, anyway?"

"It's the unknown, Kris! X could be anything, it's what you're trying to find out," Dieter explained, somewhat exasperatedly. "Here, look. In this one, X is 2. Here it's 1. And in this one, X is the same as Y, and Y is 3. Make sense?"

Kris furrowed his brow and bleated in confusion. "Ugh, why don't they just say that, then?"

"Because then they'd be giving you the answers!"

"But... ahh, whatever. I need a piss."

Kris shoved his book out of his lap and stood up. Even before he made it to the door of the treehouse, he was getting an erection, and his full bladder only exacerbated the pressure in his loins. He moved to the railing surrounding the edge of the treehouse platform, where he and Dieter always stood when they peed off the edge into the branches below. He wrestled with the belt of his jeans, and then with the button and fly... they were new pants, and the buttons were stiff. His fingers slipped and fumbled again and again, trying to get them open in time. His hard penis strained against the denim, and Kris bleated softly in sudden panic as he felt hot urine starting to rise along his member, in spite of how hard he was trying to clench.

He just barely shoved his jeans down before a little squirt of urine erupted into his grey briefs, darkening the fabric alarmingly. Kris swore and his eyes blurred with tears momentarily as he tugged his briefs down as well, and stood with his achingly erect penis between two of the wooden rails. His stream arced high, and splattered amongst the leaves of the ancient oak, and even as it finished, he hadn't softened even a tiny bit.

There was no way he could pull his briefs back on, either, not wet as they were.

Awkwardly, Kris pulled off his jeans and briefs over his hooves, and pulled his jeans back on.

"Uh... dude, what're you doing?" Dieter asked, peering out of the treehouse.

Kristian flattened his ears and gave his brother a frustrated bleat. "It... I couldn't get my pants off in time because I'm so fucking hard all the time, Deets!" Kris held up his stained briefs, and snorted. "I really, really need to do it, dude!"

Dieter scowled softly, and seemed like he was about to capitulate and join his brother - or at least not complain if Kris cranked it there in the treehouse with him. But at that moment, a familiar bray came from the ground beneath the treehouse, and Dieter surged upward to greet Jack. But not before he and Kristian exchanged a glance. No words were exchanged between the brothers, but Kristian knew that he was expected to leave, to give Jack and Dieter their space.

Kris passed Jack on his way out, and gave a half-hearted wave to the mule, before climbing down from the treehouse. He was still hard when he got to the ground, but the urge to masturbate had passed.

***

Gerald hummed softly to himself as he moved about the Hirschkoff house, gathering up clothes and towels to wash. The actual laundry hamper itself was mostly full of Bruno's clothes; the twins tended to let their dirty laundry accumulate wherever it fell, be that in the bathroom, their bedroom, the hallway in between, or anywhere else. As he was loading his brother's clothes into the washing machine, then, Gerald was a little surprised to find a much smaller pair of grey briefs in amongst Bruno's gear. They had the faintest vestiges of warmth still on them, along with a significant patch of dampness at the front, up near the waistband.

Gerald recoiled at first, but then separated the balled-up garment and lifted it. Kristian had arrived home not long ago, so these were obviously his. Tentatively, Gerald sniffed them. He felt like an utter creep for doing so, but only for a split second. The tang of urine met his nostrils, and in spite of himself Gerald felt blood running to his loins. The stain wasn't big enough to suggest that Kristian had wet himself. An accident, then. Gerald let out a little grunt of sympathy for the fawn, and tossed his briefs into the machine.

Kristian stood in the bathroom, wearing only a fresh pair of white briefs. The fawn gazed at himself in the mirror, turning this way and that. He was stiff, of course - it seemed to be almost permanently so, these days. The better part of a week without any relief was taking its toll. He needed to pee again, and he palmed roughly at the rigid, cottony tent, pushing it down and watching it flick back up again, as stiff as ever.

Pushing his briefs down, Kristian tried to force his penis to point at the toilet bowl, but it was no use. He just couldn't force it down that far. He tried sitting down. That didn't work, either, and his cock stared angrily right back up at him. With a snort of frustration, he stood beside the shower cubicle instead, leaning on its edges and finally releasing, sending a thin, stuttering stream arcing up into the air to run down the far wall. A quick blast of the shower head washed it away, and Kris turned back towards the mirror.

Surely he could jerk off real quick, just to relieve a bit of pressure?

His penis bobbed softly with his heartbeat, the shiny, purple cherry of his glans swollen and smooth. The skin behind it was smooth and dry, pulled tight by the strength of his erection, and the fawn rolled his hips, pushing his aching arousal upward and flexing it. His ears perked as a droplet of clear fluid blossomed from his tip, and rolled ponderously down to stretch to the floor between his hooves. That was new. He smeared it around his bare glans with his palm, and shivered.

His tail flicked upward as he bent forward to search for lotion, or soap, or anything slippery to fill his hand with.

Coconut oil?

That would do, he supposed. Why there was coconut oil in the bathroom didn't occur to him.

Two hoof-tipped fingers dipped into a jar filled with similar marks, and Kris melted the oil in his palm before smearing it along his cock. A quiet moan rose in his throat and emerged as a shaky bleat of pleasure. His left hand gripped the edge of the cabinet, holding him up as his right hand began to twist and tug and slide along his penis. The heat, the slickness and friction was better than anything he'd ever felt, or so it seemed, and his mouth fell open as he watched himself masturbate in the mirror. He was slow and gentle - it felt much more sensitive than usual, almost painfully so, and he delighted in the sight of his penis so swollen and hard.

He was so consumed in the moment that he didn't hear hoofsteps coming up the stairs, and almost fell over when Gerald knocked on the bathroom door.

"Hey Kris? You okay buddy? I heard some noises..."

Kristian's hooves scrabbled on the tiled floor, and he bleated loudly. "YES! Yes. I-I'm fine, Uncle Gerry, don't worry!"

"Okay, I won't come in. Dieter and your dad just got home, though, and dinner's ready!"

Kristian felt heat pricking at the corners of his eyes, and angrily cuffed away a tear of sheer frustration. Was he ever going to be able to get off?

***

At 4.15am the next morning, Kristian's body made that decision on his behalf. Dieter was fast asleep, curled up in a ball with his back to Kristian, who was sleeping on his stomach, one leg raised and his cheek pillowed on his arm. He'd had an erection when he went to sleep, of course, but even the few moments of masturbation he'd managed in the bathroom earlier seemed to have cooled his jets a tiny bit.

Kris was dreaming about Gerald, oddly enough - he was a handsome buck, in his own way, almost like a younger version of Bruno. In his dream, Gerald was doing very normal things - cooking, cleaning, helping him with his homework - but his hands were all over the fawn. For some reason, in his dream, Gerald felt the need to be touching Kristian all over his body, communicating with touch rather than words. The moment Kristian turned to look into the older stag's face, he only saw the back of Gerald's head, and felt his hands move away. And the next time he looked, it wasn't Gerald at all, but Bruno. Or Dieter. Or even Jack.

It was such a bizarre dream, but all Kristian wanted was to feel their hands all over him, to be touched and caressed and held. And then he looked once more, and this time he saw Gerald's face. His uncle's eyes were shut, but he could see right through his eyelids, and the moment he did, Gerald's hand fell down into his crotch, and touched his achingly stiff penis.

The tiniest touch. Kristian was slammed into full consciousness the very instant Gerald's dream-hand touched him, and his body convulsed and shuddered on the bed as the familiar rhythm and pulse of orgasm rocked him, spilling a week's worth of seed into his already damp briefs. He flipped over onto his back, and pushed down the blankets and his PJ pants in confusion, watching as the white fabric of his briefs became translucent with cum. That had never happened before!

As quietly as he could, Kristian clambered out of bed onto shaky hooves, and peeled off his briefs. He used the back of them to clean off his cock, which was _finally_starting to go soft on its own, and pulled on a fresh pair.

The sticky pair found their way into the laundry hamper, and Kris slid back into bed for the last couple of hours of sleep.

The next night, it happened again - although after the eruption of the first time, Kristian's second wet dream didn't wake him at all, and when he got up in the morning - hard, as always - he found his underwear stuck to him with a half-dried crust of nocturnal emission. He turned to his twin brother and nudged him.

"Hey Deets... has this ever happened to you?"

Kris was hard as a rock, and Dieter raised an eyebrow. "What, you've got a stiffy?"

"N-no, I mean... I... I keep cumming in my sleep..."

"Ohh! Wow, those are really wet," Dieter bent forward a little to inspect his twin brother's damp briefs, and as he did so Kristian's heart jumped in his chest. Maybe he and Dieter would finally be able to masturbate together again!

"Mmhm. You shoulda seen yesterday's... I hadn't cum in a whole week and they were soaked!" Kris snorted.

He peeled his sticky briefs down and away from his erection, flexing it a couple of times in his brother's direction. As Dieter straightened and looked away, Kris had the satisfaction of seeing his brother hard, as well, tenting up the front of his briefs. It had been a while.

"Deets? Why can't we do it together any more? You get off all the time still with Jack and I can't. It's not fair!"

Dieter flattened his ears to his head, and sighed. "Me an' Jack are dating, Kris! You can't do stuff with someone else when you're dating someone."

The way Dieter put it made it sound black and white, and Kris shrugged.

"Why can't you just do it by yourself?" Dieter persisted.

"I've tried, Deets! All the times I could do it are when I'm with you! At the treehouse, here at home... and with Uncle Gerald here I can't even do it when you're out with Jack!" Kris bleated, frustration making his voice break. "I mean... I could, I guess, but he keeps interrupting me every time I try..."

Dieter nodded, although he seemed confused and unsure how to respond. He pulled on his clothes in silence, and then; "Do it now? I'll watch. I can't join in, though."

Kristian huffed, and shook his head. "Nah. Not the same, sorry Deets. Thanks though. I'll try again this afternoon or something. At least cumming in my sleep means I won't be as desperate all day. Maybe I should ask Dad about it."

Kristian tossed another pair of cum-soaked underwear into the laundry hamper, and pulled on fresh ones, ready for another day of relentless boyhood erections.

***

By 9am, Gerald had the house to himself, as usual. He had nowhere in particular he needed to be, so he didn't bother changing out of the borrowed sweatpants he'd slept in. He tugged open the waistband and bent forward, sniffing. Yep, they'd do for another day.

The subtle stink of the washing hamper told him he wasn't off the hook, though, and once he'd cleared up the breakfast dishes, he headed upstairs to straighten the twins' bedroom at least a little, and make up a full load of dirty clothes. His breath left him in a snort as he stood in Dieter and Kristian's bedroom doorway. Evidently neither of them had discovered girls yet, he caught himself thinking as his eye roved across the bomb site of dirty clothes, discarded towels and crumpled sheets.

Grumbling to himself, he began on the far side of the room, gathering up clothes to fill the washing machine. Each item he raised to his snout first, sniff-testing as he did with his own. No point in wasting time and water washing clean clothes. Everything he 'tested' smelt like stag-fawn. No surprise there. It was a soft, musty kind of smell, like damp fur and autumn leaves, but much more concentrated than it was through the rest of the house.

With a double arm load of dirty washing, Gerald dumped it into the hamper and carried the large wicker basket downstairs to the laundry room. He was in a sort of half-aware state by then, the routine of mundane tasks allowing his mind to wander.

Hand. Into hamper. Grab. Shove into machine drum. Repeat.

Squish.

Gerald's eyes flew open and he recoiled slightly as his fingers found something cold and slimy in the bottom of the hamper.

"Oh gross. What the fuck...?"

His initial disgust faded though, when the offending garment turned out to be a small pair of briefs - clearly one of the boys, and stuffed into the bottom of the hamper just like the pair he'd found days earlier. He lifted them up gingerly by the waistband. Just a pair of tightly-whities, but pale blue. Typical boys' undies. The stain was on the front, and the moment he saw it, Gerald knew exactly what it was, and it wasn't piss. It was dark and slimy up near the waistband, and had dried to a white crust around its edges. He plunged his hand into the hamper again and... voila. He pulled free another pair, similarly stained, and obviously fresher... those ones were still warm.

Gerald swallowed thickly, feeling a rush of blood to the groin, and lifted the fresher of the two cum-soaked underwear to his nose, sniffing gently. His cock surged to erection at the scent.

Hurriedly, Gerald loaded the rest of the clothes into the washing machine, including the pair of stained briefs that were obviously yesterday's. All except the still-warm ones. Gerald looked down at the obscene tent he was pitching in his brother's sweats, and then at the inch-wide, slimy stain on the crotch and waistband of the briefs in his hand. He thumbed at it, smearing it between his fingers, and after a moment of self-loathing, tentatively licked his fingers.

Yeah, he was gonna need to use these.

With the house empty, no one likely to return until at least midday, and nowhere to be, Gerald finally had the time to relax and enjoy himself. He left the washing machine door open, and took those slimy briefs upstairs.

Oh he was going to be a complete pervert.

Stepping into the boys' room, he lay down on the queensize bed they shared, and pulled one of the pillows down alongside him. It was roughly the size of a stag-fawn's torso, and as he closed his eyes he imagined it to be Kris. He was fairly sure it was Kris messing up his undies at night - he'd seemed unusually agitated this week. Gerald grunted as he shoved down his sweatpants to mid-thigh, baring his rigid cock and draping the stained briefs over it. He gripped himself through them, locating the cum-stain over his glans and rubbing it over himself.

Fuck, this was quite the escalation. Three weeks ago he'd never met his sons. Two and a half weeks ago they met for the first time, and called him Uncle. Now, after a couple of poignant conversations with Kristian, here he was laying on his sons' bed, masturbating with what he assumed to be Kristian's wet dream.

Just the thought of that rapid degeneration of their relationship made Gerald arch his hips and grind roughly through his hand into Kris' briefs. His own precum oozed forth, mixing with the fawn's cum, and Gerald wrapped the stained briefs more tightly around his cock. He began to wonder if the boys were intact, or circumcised like he and his brother. Either way seemed equally hot to Gerald as he slowly, firmly pumped at his member, the friction of the soft, slimy cotton on his glans making him shudder in arousal.

He lay there for a good hour and a half, edging himself into Kristian's underwear until they were soaked more with his own than the fawn's fluids. And to finish it off, he added his own seed to the crotch, his back arching and hips grinding through his hand as he ejaculated into his son's wet dream, his other hand cupping the head of his cock and smearing his cum around, mitigating the mess and concentrating it inside the thoroughly used briefs.

Once he'd come down from the best orgasm he'd had in... years, probably, Gerald loaded the drenched briefs into the washing machine to wash away his sins. At the last minute he paused, and retrieved the other pair of cum-soaked briefs. Those ones were much wetter than the ones he'd just used had been, and he kept those for later.

Water rushed into the washing machine drum, and Gerald grunted to himself, tucking the stained underwear under the couch for use later that night.

***

Kristian rolled his hips gently. He was sitting in the back row of his geography class, giving absolutely none of his attention to the monotonous droning of Mr Jordison. His workbook was open in front of him, a blank page staring right back at him as he twirled his pen around his fingers. His left hand was in his lap, grinding down onto his achingly hard cock through his clothes. He'd lost count of how many erections he'd had that day. More than once he'd had to waddle awkwardly from one class to the next when it refused to soften even a little. He was looking forward to going home, and kept looking up at the clock on the wall.

His disinterest didn't go unnoticed, however.

"Alright you lot, let's call that a day. By Thursday I want you all to have read Chapter 8, and know the significance of the hydrological cycle," Jordison sighed as the end of day bell sounded.

Twenty-five sixth-graders surged to their feet at once, and in the resultant explosion of noise Kristian completely missed the geography teacher's finger pointing right at him. As he walked past, books clutched over his groin, he gave a shocked bleat as a hand grabbed his shirt collar, yanking him back.

"OW! Fuck off, Gordon you bastard! ...Oh shit."

Kris' heart dropped into his stomach like a stone as he spun around, fist raised, to see not Gordon the class bully, but Mr Jordison.

"Kristian, I was going to ask if you were alright," Jordison said acidly. The elk's voice, typically dull and monotonous, was curt and clipped. "But I think you've just earned yourself detention for that outburst. You knew it was me."

Kristian groaned, and slumped.

"Sorry, Mr Jordison," Kris mumbled. "I wasn't paying attention, I thought you were Gordon, really I did."

"And that excuses such an explosion?"

Kris shrugged.

"There's no place for violence here, or anywhere. You of all people should know that, Kristian. Your father..."

Kris zoned out once again as Jordison launched into a lecture about how philanthropic Bruno had always been, what a gentle man he was, and how he couldn't understand where the urge to lash out physically could've come from. As he spoke, Kris could feel himself softening in his pants, at the very least, leaving a sticky patch on the inside of his briefs that he could feel himself thoroughly glued to. It itched, and he longed to peel the fabric off his tip, but he couldn't.

"May I go to the bathroom before detention?" He ventured, interrupting Jordison's monologue.

The elk paused, his nostrils flaring and his eyes narrowing. "Alright. But I'll be waiting outside for you, so you don't make a run for it."

"Have I ever?" Kris countered, more snappily than he'd intended to.

"That's enough. March!"

Kris stood at the urinal, and stared down at himself. His stream arced onto the stainless steel before him, and he stood with his hooves well apart to save them from splashback. As his stream sputtered and died, he gripped his cock with thumb and forefinger, shaking out the last couple of drips and milking along his length to squeeze it dry.

"Aw fuck," he muttered, a tiny twinge of pleasure from his frenulum causing his penis to surge rapidly to erection, filling out and pointing rigidly at the rancid urinal.

With a groan, Kristian stuffed it back into his underwear, washed his hands, and stepped back out of the bathroom to serve his detention. No chance he was going to get home in time to crank one out before Dieter got there.

***

Later that night, as Kristian explained to Bruno why he'd got another detention - the third in less than a month - Gerald caught himself sympathising with the fawn. It was obvious, to him at least, that his arrival had caused some upset within this tight-knit trio of bucks. A tiny germ of guilt at his earlier transgression gnawed at his gut, and he couldn't help but wonder if Kris being so pent-up was making him aggressive. Unlikely, he concluded, it was more likely to be a bit of separation anxiety, a feeling of loss as his twin brother spent less time with him.

"Alright. I believe you, Kris, even if Jordison doesn't. Has Gordon been acting up more than usual lately?" Bruno rumbled.

"Kinda. It's not bad, Dad, really. I'm just... jumpy, at the moment."

"Hmm. Alright. I'm worried about you, both of you," Bruno stated, his eyes lifting to Dieter as well. "Deets, you know I'm more than happy for you and Jack. He's a good kid, if a little vulnerable and needy. You're good for him. But please don't neglect your brother entirely, alright? I'd love to see the three of you hanging out together a little more."

"B-but..."

"Dieter, as you get older, it'll make more sense. All I'll say now is that when a relationship is new and shiny it consumes your every waking moment; everything revolves around the relationship. But for a relationship to work long-term, you've got to be best friends _first,_and lovers second."

Dieter flushed bright pink, his ears flattening.

"Not tryna tell you how to do your stuff, Deets, just concerned that you don't shut your brother out entirely from your life. Okay?"

"Yeah dad."

"Good lads. Get yourself some cocoa, and forget your homework. I'll write you notes if you need them."

Dieter and Kristian exchanged a glance, and the mood between the four stags lightened noticeably. Bruno had a way of identifying and diffusing any friction within his family with little more than his presence and a few poignant observations, and it had worked once more. Dieter rested an arm around Kristian's shoulders, and the twins went upstairs together, cocoa in their hands.

***

It was almost midnight. The house was dark and silent, save for the usual array of gentle domestic noises - soft snoring came from Bruno's bedroom, the clock on the mezzanine ticked quietly, and the refrigerator hummed in the kitchen downstairs.

Kristian's eyes opened, and he rolled over in bed. He wasn't sure at first why he'd woken up, until he stretched, and a pang of pressure from his bladder gave him a reason. He lay there for a few minutes, staring into the darkness, wondering if he could possibly hang on until morning. His hand fell to his groin, and found his penis predictably stiff, tenting up his briefs under the covers. Dieter was sound asleep, with his back to his brother, and Kris allowed himself to flip his erection out above his waistband, his hand surrounding it for a few tentative strokes. It throbbed heavily, the waistband pulling his skin tight, and he rubbed his dry, bare glans along the downy fur on his inner forearm. A shiver ran up his spine.

Shit.

There was no way he was going to be able to ignore his bladder. It had started to ache.

Slowly, gingerly, Kris swung his legs out of bed and stood. He wobbled for a moment, and then groped his way to the door and out into the hallway, his cock still jutting up past his waistband.

Typically, Kristian couldn't use the toilet when he was hard, since it pointed right up at his face. So with practiced routine, he stood in front of the shower stall instead, pushed his briefs down to mid thigh and simply let fly, knuckling his sleepy eyes as his stream arced high and flowed down the far wall of the shower and down the drain.

Once he was done, he chased it with the detachable shower head, rinsing it down the drain, and tucked himself away to go back to bed, flicking off the bathroom light and waiting a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness so he didn't fall and wake everyone up. As he stepped silently out into the hallway once again, he paused, and his ears swivelled. From his left, Bruno's snoring filtered out from his bedroom door, which was slightly ajar as always. But from his right, Kris detected a different sound. Instead of Uncle Gerald snoring, or the slow rhythmic breaths of deep sleep, he heard a gentle, rapid squishing noise, and shuddering, more urgent breathing.

As his pupils dilated gradually, Kris crept closer to the mezzanine where Gerald was still sleeping on the couch. The hallway opened out onto the mezzanine a few metres away from the couch, and Gerald's antlers were pointing right at Kris, hanging over the armrest of the couch. Gerald was quite definitely not asleep.

Ears swivelling, Kristian's mouth dropped open in shock as he realised what Gerald was doing. He could just barely make out the rhythmic up and down motion of his hand on his penis, the tiny red LED of the TV reflecting very slightly on the older buck's glistening flesh.

His other hand was on his muzzle, elbow bent, and Kris's heart skipped a beat, adrenaline flooding his system momentarily as he recognised the pair of briefs Gerald was holding to his muzzle as his own. He could see the wet stain even in the near-total darkness, and it was painfully obvious that Gerald was masturbating over the briefs Kris had messed up in his sleep.

Kristian's cock ached and throbbed. The fawn knew there was no way he could resist. He shoved his briefs down to expose himself, and gripped his stiff penis, squeezing it roughly in his fist and tugging on it with frantic urgency. It had been so long since he'd properly masturbated, so long since he'd ejaculated intentionally... there was no going back once he'd begun.

He felt warmth welling up along his turgid four inches as he stroked, his fist bumping against the ridge of his glans rapidly and repeatedly. Precum spilled wetly over his fingers, and Kris pursed his lips, breathing heavily through his nose as his eager, impulsive masturbation smeared his own slickness over his glans and shaft. He barely noticed the slick, squishing noises his hand began to make as more and more precum lubricated his fist. It just felt too good, too intense for anything to interrupt him.

Kristian fondled his balls with his free hand, tugging and rolling them in his palm as he rolled his hips slowly and firmly through his rapidly-pumping fist. His fingers were slick enough by then to stroke all the way over his helmet, and he failed to notice that he wasn't being anywhere near as stealthy as he'd need to be to get away with it. Gerald was still stroking his cock, grinding his hips up through his hand, and Kristian could make out the shape of his penis now. Much like his own, of course, only larger. It was shiny, and Gerald let out a low groan of pleasure as he suddenly edged, a ponderous drool of something wet and gooey running down his shaft and over his fingers. He breathed deeply through Kristian's cum-stained briefs, twisting his hand around his shaft and obviously enjoying himself thoroughly.

The sudden edge was too much for Kristian. After over a week of not being able to masturbate normally, he was pent up beyond even his own ability to recognise. His entire body tingled, and his cock felt like it was on fire, but in the best possible way. It burned with need, with desire, and he'd never felt anything like it. All rational thought had been shut off, shelved, playing second-fiddle to this visceral, primal need the fawn now felt. His hand squeezed and twisted like Gerald's, the fawn copying the older buck's motion but much faster, with a greater level or urgency, and when he saw precum oozing over Gerald's fingers, Kris gasped loudly and grunted, his hips convulsing violently. A huge, hot, wet spurt of cum erupted through his fist, and then another, and another. More than he'd ever ejaculated before. It splattered onto the floor in front of him several feet away, landing closer to Gerald than to Kristian. The fawn squeaked and convulsed and shook and squirted all over, humping urgently and violently through his hand. It seemed to go on forever, and his cum hit the floor audibly.

Gerald's eyes flew open, and the older buck initially made a move towards hiding himself, hiding his indiscretions, but as soon as he tilted his head back and saw the state of the fawn in the hallway a few feet away, he reconsidered, and instead simply enjoyed the view while it lasted. Kris was really going for it, pumping his cock like his life depended on it, and cum was erupting through his fist in messy, splattering shots.

When the most intense orgasm Kristian had ever felt finally began to ease off, and some capacity for rational thought returned to the fawn, he opened his eyes, and found himself staring straight into Gerald's. The two bucks maintained eye contact for a long, silent minute, before Gerald slowly, ever so slowly, swivelled himself around to sit up on the couch. The darkness was a blessing, because it hid the grin Gerald could barely contain. Kris, however, was mortified, frozen in place, hand around his cock.

"Kris?" Gerald whispered.

Silence.

"Kris, that was really, really hot."

More silence, and then; "...I'm sorry. I couldn't stop myself."

"Shhh, it's alright. Don't be sorry. Wanna talk about it?"

Gerald's cock ached with how close he'd been to blowing his load, but on every conceivable level, it meant so much more to the buck when Kris gingerly shuffled forward and sat on the couch beside him.

"Did you steal my undies?" The fawn whispered, a hint of a chuckle in his voice. He sounded so relieved, so much less tense and snappy than he had all week.

Gerald nodded, then vocalised it. "Uh huh. Found the sticky ones in the wash. Wet dreams?"

"Is that when you cum in your sleep?"

"Uh huh."

"Uh huh. Twice."

"Damn. Hope you don't mind, I found both pairs."

"Nah."

"Good."

Gerald's arm found its way around Kristian's shoulders, and there was a moment's silence as the fawn snuggled into his side. Neither of them made any attempt to cover themselves, and Gerald was just as hard as he'd been earlier.

"Uncle Gerry?"

"Yeah kiddo?"

"Did you cum yet?"

Gerald gave a low chuckle. "Nope. Not important."

Kristian squirmed around for a moment, and Gerald gasped in shock as he suddenly felt something soft and warm land on his penis. Kristian's underwear. Kris grinned into the darkness, and snuggled back up into the older buck.

"There. You might need them."

***