Late Night Rehearsal [18+]
Riley's a gentle opossum who struggles to assert himself through his sexual needs. With the challenge of a job far beyond his comfort, he must learn to adapt to his fears...before the spotlight disappears.
Edited by wellifimust and Psydrosis
Thumbnail artwork by @SylvDaDeer on Twitter
Word count: 6,833
Content warning: Depiction of anxiety
Thump, thump, thump.
Riley struggled fitfully against the ropes as thunderous footsteps echoed off the stone walls of the jungle ruins. Adjacent to the chubby opossum, an infestation of overgrowth protruded from the architecture, depicting faded Mayan portraits of ancient battles and lost rituals. Paintings continued up to the ceiling where roots pierced holes in the lines, dropping grains of soil that scattered the floor before Riley's eyes.
A row of pillars supported the ceiling, though one in particular carried Riley's weight, binding him to a strangely pristine pair of jutting metal stakes. The rope restricting his wrists hung him, painfully, from a central stake on top, while a lower twine fastened his ankles to a bar on the back. Beyond the restriction of the opossum's limbs, a series of ropes strung under his chest with a pair below his wide belly, fastening him even tighter in the snug, black suit that gripped around his legs. The loud footsteps of his captors pounded louder, frightening him to mimic the stillness of the room's creepy statues.
A muscular grey triceratops burst into view, head-to-toe in a black-robed bandit costume with a silver pistol strapped to his waist, the only uncovered part of his body being a face wearing a wicked smile. He leaned in close, letting the smell of rancid sausage wash over Riley's wrinkled nose. "Ah! Look what the cat--or should I say, the rat!--dragged in!"
The other source of footsteps, a skinny red velociraptor, ambled up on Riley's opposite site. "Ehehehe!" he chortled--clearly the obnoxious henchman. "Yeah, rat! 'Cause you look it! Even more when we shoot you dead!"
Riley's voice broke out as a croak. "You'll never find the treasure, you fiends! Grotesque George will--"
The triceratops' palm abruptly slapped across Riley's face, faster and sharper than he could brace himself for. He gasped and met the velociraptor's arrogant gaze behind watering eyes as the triceratops continued his monologue.
"Doctor Chestnut..." his eyes sailed downwards, "heh, chest is right, you fat fuck!"
"Yeah, yeah!" the velociraptor chuckled, "You'll make a real good meal for us, trashbag!"
Riley's eyes widened, pupils dilating, as his throat tightened.
Thump, thump, thump.
"What do you say, shrimp?" the three-horned menace mocked in his velvety cadence. "You gonna give up the gold, or are we gonna bury you in here and pick the meat from your bones?" The pistol glimmered on his hip.
The opossum tried to breathe, but the ropes seemed to constrict his lungs. He forced himself to speak, but the words in his head came out wrong. "You aren't gonna..." Riley gulped down a dry mouth, "you can't do it!"
The triceratops goon studied him skeptically before his face contorted into a cheshire grin. "Sure, sure...we can't...but we will!"
"No..." Riley struggled in his restraints, gripping the rope around his wrist and yanking at it for dear life. "Help...I--" he heaved for air. The suit boiled him like he was sweating over an open flame. His eyes blurred over. "Get me off of this!"
The red velociraptor's eyes widened, and he shared a confused glance with the triceratops. "Uh..."
"Oh my god...I can't breathe," Riley muttered, shaking. Sharp pain prodded at his struggling wrists, which began to numb in panic.
"CUT!"
The T. rex director shot up from his chair, striding towards the trio alongside two, normally unseen wolves coordinating stunts. Cameras shut off, boom mics clapped as they shortened, and the effects crew ran to sweep away the dirt over hurried, hushed directions.
The T. rex flew up to the pillar, towering six-foot-three over Riley's average height, eyebrows creased in concern. "Honey, what's wrong?"
"I...I..." Riley's chest stung under the ropes where he trembled. "I can't breathe," he gasped.
The wolves were already busy untying the ropes behind the volatile opossum's back, so the velociraptor nodded towards the triceratops. "Wat! You get his feet, I'll get his arms."
The T. rex held up a muscular hand and rubbed it across the opossum's wet cheek fluff, trying to not catch fur under his wedding ring. "Riley," he comforted, in his deep Portuguese accent, "breathe, okay? In and out."
"I can't. I'm..." the ropes around his wrists fell, causing his arms to drop against his body. Riley gazed from the director's concern to his paws. "I'm..."
The velociraptor's hand was above Riley's head too now, rubbing into the fur between his ears. "Everything's okay, kid. You're all right."
Riley wiped along his muzzle with a freed paw. "I'm sorry," he croaked.
The ropes fell away from Riley's chubby torso and legs, allowing for the director and the wolves to safely help him to the ground. The triceratops stood up and sighed before marching to the studio's exit.
As the medical team closed in to treat Riley, the velociraptor stepped back and appraised the director. "Sorry 'bout that, Lou. Didn't mean to go overboard or anything."
Luiz rubbed a scaly hand over his eyes and clicked his tongue. "Not on you, Skinner," his rich voice grumbled, "Riley is inexperienced," he started, hesitating, and then shut his mouth.
"Watson decked 'im too hard," Skinner reasoned, "I saw 'im scared, I should've done something. I kept goin' and--"
"Thank you, Skinner," Luiz interrupted, with an unintentionally rough pat on the slim raptor's back.
The crowd broke up, revealing Riley standing with an older wolf at his side who peered up to the two dinosaurs. "No problem. You guys got water?"
"On it!" Skinner responded, snapping finger guns at Riley. "Don't worry about it kid, happens to the best of us!"
As Riley's eyes cleared, he glanced up at Luiz, who peered to the distance and scratched his chin. "Let's take a little break."
Luiz rested in the passenger seat, green scaled hands behind his head as he rambled with a carefree look down at Riley. "So...you know about the scene after the chase, right, sweetie?"
Riley idly nodded in reply and checked his mirrors, rear-view eclipsing a setting sun which cast an orange glow along the darkening expanse of the asphalt highway. Peering back to the road, he raised a white-furred paw to adjust his tinted pair of sunglasses before dropping it next to the other, holding both still on the wheel.
Luiz stared into the lush countryside of vibrant flora and lanky palm trees. "It was in the script, yeah. Where they've got George and Lily cornered in the catacombs with their guns up, and Skinner's character goes, 'Survival of the fittest, bitch!'" Luiz recounted, poorly mimicking the velociraptor's henchman voice, "and then George--my goodness, how did we get Ty Goodman to do this?--cries, 'No! It's time for you to go extinct!'"
Silence hung in the air before Riley realized he was supposed to answer. He nodded with a nonplussed, "Yeah."
The long-winded T. rex peeked at him before ducking behind the outstretched sun visor to gaze out at slower cars. "So I said to Mark, look: your one-liners are great--they're cheesy, I never told him that--and they'll sell toys, but I do not want to sell toys! I want to make art. You know what I'm saying?"
A truck hurriedly swerved across three lanes, forcing Riley to stomp on the breaks as it cut him off to catch its exit. The opossum's hand shot down and wavered over the horn, before he grit his teeth and replaced it on the wheel with a tight grip.
"Sweetie?" called the dinosaur's deep rustling voice, several seconds later.
"Oh, uh, yeah?"
"The movie, Darkness on the Oak Planet!" Luiz grumbled, with intensity creeping into his voice. "It means a lot to me, and these editors and their...their..." he groped at the air, searching for words, "corporate partners," he spat, as if it were a slur, "don't believe in authenticity! I'm all about authenticity! And you are, too!"
Riley blinked at the semi-circle sun before subconsciously recognizing a sign they flew past, noting their upcoming exit. "Yeah," he murmured.
"But I'm here to create film! They're here to sell a--a fucking product!" Luiz drummed his fingers together. "Big difference. Big difference. You know what I'm talking about?"
"Definitely." Riley's eyes were transfixed on the truck merging ahead of them.
"Riley."
"Uh huh?"
"You're in your head," Luiz noted, gruffly.
The preoccupied opossum knocked the turn signal with his pinky. Rhythmic clicking soon insulated the silence while he eased on the gas and pulled off of the highway. After maneuvering around a bend, Riley pulled up behind a pair of cars waiting at a red light intersection, suddenly noticing that Luiz was staring at him the whole time.
"Oh. Uh...sorry," Riley mumbled.
Luiz sighed and lifted both hands to snatch the sunglasses off his face, collapsing the frame and hooking them in his collar. "No, I mean...talk to me. Is it bothering you?"
"'It'? What's 'it'?" Riley asked. He clicked on his blinker again, edging up in the right turn lane as the frontmost vehicle rounded the corner.
Luiz's tone remained soft. "The scene--where you were tied up."
"It's fine." The steady clicking resumed behind Riley's voice. He nudged his sunglasses further up on his snout. "I'm fine," he added quickly.
Luiz grunted loud enough to draw Riley's face towards him, before he quickly gazed back at the road. "I doubt that."
Riley crept across the intersection, peered past a parallel truck, and flew into a quick turn. While picking up speed down a quiet connecting street, he let the statement drop into irrelevance.
The gravel remained in Luiz's voice. "So what happened, exactly?"
Riley turned onto a boulevard stocked with neon signs of soon-closing stores. He removed a paw from the wheel to tug his sunglasses off as he exhaled. "I dunno, I just freaked out."
Luiz's blue eyes pierced his husband's glance. "About what? Do you know?"
"It was..." Riley waved a paw, sighing and sending away thoughts of the wicked grin and the sheen of the gun, "everything. I don't know if I'm cut out for this."
"Cut out for it?" Luiz repeated, causing Riley's ears to flick, "Querido! Your role isn't too big. No one really cares if you're off a step; I mean it."
"I know, but...I'm not an actor."
The perplexed dinosaur stared down at open hands. "Actor? What actor?" he asked. "Bullshit! I didn't want some Hollywood hack! I wanted my possum!"
"Well, that's great," Riley answered, pulling onto their home street. "I'm grateful, I really am! But..." he hesitated and tapped his paws on the wheel.
Luiz frowned. "What, do you need a rewrite? A scene rehearsal?"
The reluctant opossum located their house and prepared to corner into the driveway. He couldn't think of any other way to voice his demands. "Yeah, I'd like to rehearse."
"Good, good!" Luiz grinned, artificially-whitened teeth catching the glimmer of the sun. "We can do that tonight."
The garage slid open, allowing Riley to advance and park next to his old car. As he glanced down to switch gears, Luiz brought a cold hand up to his cheek, coaxing his amber eyes to meet his partner's. The mighty green dinosaur kissed him briefly on the mouth, before undoing his seatbelt and straining over to provide a hug.
"You're wonderful."
Clean, white-tiled floor ran from the front hall to an open living room, separated by wood-railed stairs. Mood music hummed from a stereo set under the TV, ultimately drowned out by the whir of a vacuum cleaner. Momentarily, it clicked off.
"Geez, you possums! Shedding worse than last year, even!"
Riley stood in the kitchen slicing tomatoes when he glanced back to see Luiz picking burgundy fur out of a matching rug. "Well, it's hotter than last year!"
Luiz wordlessly flicked the vacuum back on, interrupting the soft acoustic melody.
Facing away from the sound, Riley trimmed the tops of each fruit in succession, before grabbing the first one and slicing a broad circle through its interior pulp. While he followed suit with the rest, the humming of the vacuum cleaner stopped.
Luiz fiddled with the cleaner, plugging it back in outside of the kitchen, before the tall dinosaur emerged beside the kitchen bar. "So, how's work been?"
Riley furrowed his brow as he grabbed pawfuls of chopped onions and dumped them onto a heating, buttered pan covered in shredded spinach. "Hm?"
"Postal office, your delivery job."
"Oh, uh...it's good!" Riley scratched at the fur on the back of his neck. "Why do you ask?"
"We didn't get to eat together last night!" Luiz answered, grinning. "I couldn't even see you this morning!"
Riley stirred the spinach around idly while his husband approached to wrap a hand around his waist. "Ah! Well, we're picking up after the strike. Not everyone's back, though: Ian and Susie had a kid. You heard about that."
"Ian," Luiz echoed, scrunching his face like he just bit out of a lemon. "He still giving you shit?"
"More like, I dunno, trash-talk? He talks like a kid on a playground."
The muscular T. rex scoffed. "Should tell HR they hired one."
Riley's ears dropped. "I mean, I try not to take offense. It's his problem, not mine if I ignore it."
"Mmm, of course, but it's your problem when you're in his way. Reminds me of that ass who played the lead on Simpletwins a couple years ago, you remember that?"
"Chad Meszaros? The guy who was afraid of immigrants?" Riley sprinkled garlic powder over the skillet.
"Yeah." Luiz reached into a drawer and sought out his own tray, then ambled to the fridge and grabbed a container of mushrooms. He plugged the sink, turned on the tap, and dumped them in. "All I'm saying is that you should stick up for yourself!" he continued. "Gay jokes, fat jokes, doesn't matter."
"I don't really wanna cause trouble. Conflict's not my thing."
Luiz drew in a breath and let it out evenly. "I'm just saying."
"I know, it's just..." Riley turned around, fidgeting with his claws, "it's easier when you're the boss, not the guy who answers to him."
Luiz silently picked out the mushrooms. After a moment of consideration, he responded, "Everyone answers to someone. I just cast the ones with visions, who know how to carry them out. Those are the authentic ones."
The younger opossum busied himself aligning the tomatoes on a baking tray, then stared down at the pan filled with spinach. "You like that word today, don't you?"
"A little bit."
With the tomatoes stuffed, the mushrooms seasoned, and dinner roasting in the oven, the couple retreated to the living room to catch a documentary halfway through its runtime. Once their food finished, they were engrossed enough to wordlessly agree on eating from the loveseat in front of the TV.
Despite his shorter stature, Riley finished the meal first and leaned against his partner, who welcomed him with a broad arm over his shoulders.
"Ah, growing into the role, aren't we? A-heh heh," Luiz chuckled. Riley grumbled into his chest as he slid his cutlery onto the plate before resting back, cradling his husband with both arms. "So, how about the Riptide, huh? You hear on the radio? Eight million a year for Gutiérrez!"
Riley's ears flicked as he nestled into the T. rex. "Saw it in the newspaper. That's, uh...that's crazy."
Luiz gazed thoughtfully past the TV, drumming his fingers on Riley's shoulder. "I guess it is, isn't it?" He shrugged. "They make way more overseas. It's hard to compare."
"Hm. Why do they come here, then?"
"Less competition here...less spotlight too." Luiz scratched his chin. "Might be nice for them."
The movement of the T. rex's arm further buried Riley's snout in his partner's pecs, which he openly accepted with little more than a content, muffled sigh.
Luiz ran a paw over the opossum's headfur, petting it down. "I know a couple guys in the business--managers. Same thing for them: nice to come here, find their passion for football...or soccer, as you might say."
The blissful opossum got about thirty-percent of that. "Mm-hmm."
"Kind of like a pre-retirement, actually. Leave the country, coach here when you're my age. Or if you are a player, hit your ripe old thirties and get reassigned."
Riley slipped out of the embrace and popped his head up, haziness filling his amber eyes. "Thirties? You mean even I have a shot?" he joked.
The colossal T. rex crossed his legs and let his arms hang behind the couch as he cast a smug eye at his short chubby husband. "Maybe if you trained...and learned the rules!"
"Aw, seems pretty easy!" Riley drew his legs up onto the couch. "I've seen it on TV; you just kick the ball around!"
"Mhm? And do you watch the game, or the guys?"
Riley's muzzle shot open, and then drooped with his ears. "...Both."
Luiz raised an eyebrow. "You got a thing for soccer players?"
"Uh..." Riley attempted to feign disinterest through a small shrug, "the uniforms are all right..."
"Yeah? Any crushes? You know their names?"
Riley pretended to ponder that question. "There's, uh...that Veron guy. He's hella cute."
His partner snorted. "Ha! You and your reptiles!"
"Hmph. Sue me."
"Yeah?" Luiz leaned across the couch, flexing his glamour muscles as he hulked over Riley. "You sure you wanna take on this case?"
A breath caught in Riley's throat. This was only a bit less mean than the macho T. rex goading him like this on long distance video calls: then he had to masturbate alone. "Uh huh."
"You like your hunks? How about this one?" He grabbed the hardness poking at his shorts, voice turning sultry underneath a confident smirk. "Who can't wait to stuff his cute, needy possum?"
Riley's nostrils flared as he glanced between the package and Luiz's grin. In an instant, the older man leaned forward and smothered his muzzle in a kiss.
Luiz dropped Riley onto their bed, where the submissive opossum fell back into crimson sheets and smiled, eyeing his husband unbuttoning his shirt and unzipping his shorts. With an upper body flex, Luiz grinned down at his idle viewing. "Well?"
Riley huffed and mirrored the action with his shirt, then unbuckling his belt and wiggling the shorts down. While Luiz made sure to pick off his socks, Riley left them alone, letting his arms flop above his head while his penis hugged the bottom of his belly. Finally naked, he trailed a paw up his burgundy-furred side to his white, fluffy chest, letting it rest on one of his pecs: sagging and doughy compared to the tight pair of his former construction worker husband.
The glance back up cut short as two-hundred twenty pounds of dinosaur pounced on him, forcing a squeak, before the two locked muzzles and held pose for a boundless moment.
"Y'taste like spinach," Riley panted as they broke away.
Luiz's eyelids lowered, capturing Riley in a saucy gaze. "You too."
The two drew into another kiss. Luiz snaked his paws behind Riley's back while the opossum strung an arm back over the buff dinosaur's shoulder. It wasn't until those travelling hands found Riley's rear that he broke from the kiss. "Hey, wait."
"Huh? What?" Luiz blinked.
Riley opened his maw, then clammed it and thought for a second.
"What is it? You not ready?"
"I want..." a careful look of concentration graced his face, "I want you to tie me up."
The idea knocked around Luiz's head before his eyebrows flew up. "You? I...sure! Eh...with what?"
"Duct tape. It's in the laundry room."
"Woah, okay, Mister Dominate! Right away!" Luiz slid back off the bed and strode out of the room, smiling as he turned.
Riley lay still on the bed, one arm near the headboard, the other dropped onto his chest. As the steps receded downstairs, he called, "You know where it is?"
More steps. A distant door opened. "...No."
"It's in a container! Third cupboard! Middle shelf, I think!"
Something thudded on the ground. Its contents rustled around noisily. "Ah! Found it! Scissors, too?"
Riley stared into the spinning blades of the ceiling fan, grinning. "Not if your teeth are sharp!"
His smirk grew wider as he barely registered a grunted response. The box slid in and the door swung shut.
Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.
Luiz rounded the corner and slumped his nude body against the doorframe, swinging a half-roll of duct tape around his index finger. "Eager?" he asked, staring at Riley's persisting erection.
Riley dropped a paw on his crotch, pulling down his foreskin and bobbing his hardness back and forth between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting a growl from his lover.
"That is my job," Luiz rumbled, strutting to the end of the bed and leaning forward, hands on the mattress. "Paws up."
The buoyed opossum obeyed, lining up his wrists above his head, allowing Luiz to crawl above him and wrap over the white fur, peeling off the grey tape.
"Hope my fur doesn't come off," Riley muttered, staring into the curves of Luiz's chest.
"Not supposed to. But, ah! Maybe it should; save me from vacuuming, hm?"
"Shut up."
Luiz chuckled quietly and finished his wrapping, pulling the roll further and letting it dangle loose under Riley's raised arms. "How's this, sweetie? Too tight? Just right?"
Riley tested it by attempting to separate his wrists and finding it a bit tighter than he expected. Pretty uncomfortable, too, but he couldn't back down. "It's fine."
"Good, good." Luiz was silent for a second before he piped up. "Hey, can I tie them to the headboard?"
Riley sniffed in the masculine, dinosaurian scent. "Sure, if you wanna clean it up later."
His partner guided the tied wrists up to an opening near the top of the headboard. Snaking the roll horizontally through the crack, he wound it around and continued to circle it back over itself numerous times. "That comfortable too?" Luiz glanced down and caught Riley's eye as he nodded. Satisfied, he dropped his head down to the remaining tape strung between the headboard and roll, biting ineffectively before finding purchase and snapping it.
The restrained opossum craned his head up. "Havin' trouble?"
"Don't make me tie up your muzzle," Luiz grunted. He gestured below the bulk of Riley's belly. "How about feet?"
"Uh...yeah! Why not?"
With this new permission, Luiz proceeded to crawl back on the bed and mirror his taping over Riley's ankles, continuing it around his soles. However, he didn't have a footboard to work with, leaving the legs still loose.
"You got cute feet," Luiz noted idly as he finished.
"Uh huh."
Silently, the hulking T. rex pointed to Riley's thighs, receiving a nodded response prompting him to wrap them together too. He bit through the tape in one clean bite, then stood up straight and stretched his back with a grunt. "How's this?"
Riley peered down at his legs and tested the restraints: feet were bound tight like his wrists, though he figured he could loosen his thighs if he tried hard enough. "All good!"
"Great!" Luiz grinned, gazing at an erection propped up by pink balls. "So I'll go and lubricate," he planned, emphasizing the word jovially, "and then we can--"
"Wait," Riley interjected, "put one over my eyes, too!"
"Hm?"
"With the tape. Blindfold me!" he demanded.
Luiz eyed Riley dubiously, then glanced back at the roll and shrugged. "Didn't think you'd like it, but...whatever you say!"
"I'm uh..." Riley swayed his outstretched shoulders, attempting to emulate his own shrug, "feeling experimental today."
Luiz peeled an eight-inch strip and tore it with his claws. "All right," he called, preparing to plaster it over Riley's face, "lights out!"
The visual of the room vanished as the tape pressed over his eyes, securing once Luiz lightly pressed down the edges and allowed his head to drop back.
"Treat me like...uh..." Riley's heart thudded slowly yet forcefully as his ears flicked. "Treat me like Doctor Chestnut."
A second passed. "What?"
Operating without vision helped Riley locate his husband's scent. "Y'know, like, go by the script!"
"Like the..."
"Of your movie!" Riley grinned wide, feeling the edges of the tape rise with his cheeks. "We can practice my lines!"
After a moment, the rough voice brightened like a lightbulb. "Nossa! Let me just...I'll be right back."
Steps retreated out of the room and trailed downstairs. Riley heard the faint sound of a zipper, followed by the shuffling of papers. After another moment of searching, Luiz stomped back upstairs and marched into the bedroom.
"Here, er...let me find..." he flipped through pages loudly.
Riley fidgeted as he waited, testing the tape again before leaving it alone.
"Ah! Got it! Erm..." Luiz cleared his throat and began an attempt at a poor Brooklyn accent. "Well, well, well! Look what the cat--or should I say, the rat!--dragged in!"
The still opossum peered into the darkness. After several seconds of delay, his eyebrows fell. "Sweetie, it's still your line."
"I--eh--oh! A-hem! Heh, heh! Yeah, rat! 'Cause you look it! Even more when we shoot you dead!" this impression grumbled lower, closer to Luiz's own voice.
Riley breathed deep through his chest, before shouting into the darkness, "You'll never find the treasure, fiends! Grotesque George will surely--gah!"
Luiz shoved a palm into Riley's nethers, hooking his thumb under the balls and dragging the foreskin down between two outstretched fingers. "Doctor Chestnut," he continued, shifting his paw to wrap it around Riley's penis and pump slowly, simultaneously breaking character. "Heh...nuts? I'll say!"
A switch to his other voice. "Yeah, yeah! You will make a real good meal for us, ballsack!"
Riley made a face under the blindfold. He couldn't tell if it formed a grin or a pained grimace after Luiz's attempt at dirty talk. "No! You wouldn't do that!".
The scaly hand stopped stroking. "Riley, you're stepping over my lines!"
"Oh, sorry!" Riley atoned, waiting until Luiz kept pleasuring his member before arguing, "Well...you went off-script! I only memorized my cues!"
"Amateurs..." Luiz sighed, squeezing and evoking a squeak from the bound opossum. "What do you say, shrimp? You going to give up the gold, or are we going to bury you in here and pick the meat from your bones!?"
The unseen stimulation drove Riley's legs to shake and his arms to squirm below their restraints. "You...you wouldn't do that!" he huffed, affecting desperation.
"Sure, sure...we wouldn't..." recited Luiz, who, a moment later, dropped his weight on Riley, forcing a grunt as his scent grew sharper in his husband's nose. A whisper came, right into Riley's ear, "...But we will..."
Riley tilted his head towards the source of the noise, faintly groaning as Luiz's cock frotted against his in a large, stroking hand. "Whatever you do," he snarled, half-acting as much as he leaned back and enjoyed the warmth spreading through his groin, "I'll never sell out my friends!"
Somewhere in the back of the room, pages shuffled as they collided with the wooden floor. Luiz's other arm strung behind Riley's raised shoulders, lifting his torso up and connecting his muzzle into a kiss, holding it as the shared masturbation caused both to grunt into each other's tongues.
Riley writhed in the kiss, groaning as he approached orgasm. The darkness--the uncertainty of what would happen next, coupled with the control of an older, bolder, handsome lover pinning him down--kept his heart pounding for another reason than fear.
When they broke the kiss, Luiz pulled his hands back and repositioned them to grip Riley's bulging love handles. "Hm hm!" he snickered. "And what if I shot a load in your mouth?"
The bed shifted around Riley as Luiz moved, ending in position with something poking at his muzzle. When he obeyed and opened it, in came his husband's erection, salty as he licked along the glans.
"I am already close," Luiz warned, returning to his normal inflection, "it might not--mmh!--it might not be too long..."
Riley grunted back a response, concentrated on accommodating the shaft in his muzzle when he couldn't position himself comfortably with its source.
His husband quickly thrust forward, filling the chubby opossum maw with most of his seven inches before he immediately began humping. A hand landed on Riley's head, patting his fur as the dick bobbed in and out of his mouth. He took it as a sign, keeping his teeth out of the way, laying his tongue down, letting the member vacillate across it. Following his thrusting, the shaft slid out of Riley's muzzle.
"Oh, sweetheart," Luiz croaked, "you're so cute..."
Seed sprayed his face: splashing up his snout, painting the tape, and dribbling down his muzzle in volleys of one, two, three, and then a fourth little dribble against his chin. He held his maw ajar, obedient for his next command.
There was a tissue pulled. It didn't wipe across his face. "This would be a great position to tickle you," Luiz panted.
Riley took a second to respond, fading back into the moment. "That's not in the script."
Low chuckling followed, and then a weight lifted off his chest, disturbing the mattress as it moved away. He flinched as a cold, scaly hand landed on his neglected penis. "Let's take care of you, then."
Slow pumping followed, mirroring the previous routine, causing Riley to reel at his bonds. His muzzle made a noise that he didn't recognize: some kind of inarticulate groan culminating in his tongue lolling out, spreading over seed dripping from the side of his chin. As his husband sped up, he found himself clenching his fists and squirming his toes, which was the only movement he could make that wouldn't disrupt the handjob. The next hand came down to stroke through his belly fur.
"Nrgh," Riley mustered, "gosh..."
Luiz tightened his grip, completing full strokes of the foreskin around the shaft, up to where it slipped closed over a head drenched with its own lubrication.
Pressure filled throughout Riley's shaft: a familiar pleasure typically coupled with the eye candy of a hunky magazine, or his own partner's body in the flesh. He wasn't one to close his eyes during climax, though he never thought of restricting his movement too.
Semen shot up to his chest and painted the curve of his belly, powerful and scorching despite his soft, whimpering moans. The seed on his tongue filled his thoughts with Luiz's humping, then to images of several guys stroking him, petting him, pulling his arms and legs tight to the pole in the depths of the ruins. His legs twitched as the last of his semen landed, leaving him relaxed and sighing in the descent of his afterglow.
"Very good..." purred Luiz, who had not yet removed his other hand from Riley's gut.
"Y...y-ah!" Riley cried, jerking away as pain shot around his eyes, followed by the sight of warm bedroom light reflecting off of Luiz's grin, illuminating the white wall and brown shelves behind it.
The frivolous T. rex held up a strip of grey tape, attached with strands of clean white fur. "That was good for a little waxing!"
Riley blinked. "What!? Did I..." he tried to drop his arm down to feel his face, instead painfully shaking his elbow under the wrist restraint, "ow! My fur, is it--"
"Grahahaha! Relax, you are fine!" Luiz popped out a pair of scissors raising them to cut through the tape wrapping Riley's paws. "And I made sure to grab scissors. Didn't plan ahead for this, did you?"
"I..." Riley narrowed his eyes. "Shut up."
Luiz carefully maneuvered the scissors into a small opening between the wrists, snipping through to the other side, then peeling tape off a grimacing, fist-clenched Riley. As the grey stripped away, the blended fur between the burgundy of his arms and white of his hands sprung up, ruffled, leaving a mark of its presence on the tape like a message scribbled on the door of a bathroom stall. Once the binding came undone, he raised his arms away, stretching them, as Luiz cut through the tape fastened to the bed frame.
Loosening the feet was a simpler task, with fur thinner around his ankles providing less resistance to the pull of the tape. Luiz followed by cutting through the tape binding his thighs: the easiest to peel, though the most painful for a wincing opossum.
"Y'know, I was just thinking I wanted to do this again," Riley commented, brushing through his thighs to inspect for lost fur. "Now? I'm not so sure."
The scissors clanked on the night table, stuck to a big round wad of discarded tape. Luiz's eyes softened as they met Riley's. "How about ropes? Might make our rehearsal more authentic."
Riley's laugh bounced from deep within his chest, bubbling up as he hopped forward and clung to his husband, rubbing a damp-furred belly against clean, scaly abs. With only the noise of the fan suffusing the room, they held each other in a comforting, satisfied stillness.
"This good?"
Riley's eyes scanned over the careful sculpting of the temple walls. Though not constructed out of actual ziggurat, they finely mimicked it from the one perspective that mattered: the side captured within each meticulous shot.
"Kid? This good?"
His gaze shot up from the walls, fixating on the peering face of the wolf tying his wrist restraints. "Yeah, uh..." he responded, shaking his arms back and forth to test them, "all good!"
The old wolf grunted and descended the step ladder, half-stumbling on the bottom stair but catching himself on the pillar.
"Hey, hey!" The other wolf's head popped into his vision from below. This one, younger than his companion, bounced out of his squat and clapped his hands. "How's that? Ankles tight? No falling? Comforta--well, comfy as you can be?"
Another test: this one to ensure that he wouldn't fall flat on his face. "I'm good. Thanks, Chris!" Riley nodded.
"Right. Right, right, right! Tell me, if you need anything--"
"Hey, look, kid," the old wolf cut in, eyeing Riley dubiously, "this job? Simple. We get it. Everyone gets a little freaked out, okay? Just roll with it, y'know? We got a lot of shootin' to do today."
The big opossum's ears fell askew. "Uh huh..."
Chris checked the ropes over his torso and shot a thumbs up. "Great? Great. Just give a holler if it flies south!"
"Will do!" Riley answered while the wolves retreated behind the cameras. He waited for several seconds, adjusting to the restraints, before his attention slipped to the conversation of his two co-actors loafing around on set.
"...I dunno, we can ask him if it really goes off the rails," answered Skinner in a hushed voice, reaching down to adjust one of his boots.
Watson's voice projected a bit further. "I just think he's a little biased, right? Even beyond his whole thing about VFX." His tone picked up an edge. "If it doesn't work out, no big deal. I wouldn't think worse of either of 'em."
"Yeah, 'course, no big deal."
The triceratops scratched a claw against his chin. "You think I'm an asshole for saying so?"
"No, no! Not at all!" Skinner glanced around, briefly catching Riley's stare before the door to the studio swung open with the presence of a towering T. rex, coffee cup in hand.
"You two!" Luiz pointed at the shorter pair of dinosaurs across the room and shouted over the noise. "Makeup on? All set?" Thumbs up from several crew members, as well as a curt nod from Skinner. His eyes scanned over his husband. "Great! Feeling good, Riley?"
Most of the room turned to look at the bound opossum, so he threw on his best concealing grin. "Ready to go!"
With a returned nod, the overhead lighting shut off, leaving the free-standing studio lights to shine alone, illuminating Riley and the background. The studio chatter hushed while Watson and Skinner advanced past Riley's pillar and into the backdrop: the latter winking as he passed.
Some more shuffling sounded in the darkness, followed by the raccoon manning one of the cameras calling, "Rolling!" and a lemur trodding in front of him.
"Scene one-H, take two..." the lemur snapped the slate closed and backed away.
Thump...thump...thump.
Riley balanced a deep breath, calming his nerves and loosening his muscles.
Luiz appeared in the darkness behind the camera, eyes glowing in the refracted light, reminding Riley to peer back into the temple wall. "And...action!"
Silence enveloped the studio, apart from the crumbling of dirt from the rafters like grains of sand in an hourglass. Right on cue, a series of loud stomps carried from the stone floor and echoed upon the walls, magnified by the shadows of the two captors growing in the nearby light.
A grey triceratops marched into Riley's view, eyeing him with scorn, facing him head-on, and leaning in close. "Ahaha! Look what the cat--or should I say, the rat!--dragged in!"
The red velociraptor ambled up beside him. "Ehehe! Yeah, rat!" A look of concern crossed his muzzle, gazing at Riley, before he wiped it away. "'Cause you look it! Even more when we shoot you dead!"
"You'll never find the treasure, you fiends!" Riley spat, with all the steel he could muster, "Grotesque George will surely stop--"
He shifted his head to the side, leaning with the incoming slap in a manner he hoped would seem convincing with proper effects. After a moment, he managed to glare back, affecting a snarl.
"Doctor Chestnut...heh!" Watson scoffed. "Chest is right, you fat fuck!"
"Yeah, yeah!" Skinner chortled, slapping his paws together. "You'll make a reeeeal good meal for us, trashbag!"
"What do you say, shrimp? You gonna give up the gold, or do we gotta bury you in here and pick the meat straight from your bones!?"
Riley maintained his scowl. The next line came effortlessly. "You wouldn't dare!"
"Sure, sure, we wouldn't...but we will!"
The furious opossum stared through him, allowing an arduous breath to pass through his nostrils. Through the tension, he heard the beep of a camera off to the periphery, outside of the boom mic's range. "No matter what you do, I'll never sell out my friends!"
"Hm!" Watson snorted and wrinkled his nose in disgust. In a quick motion, the pistol flew off of his belt and jutted pointed steel against the bottom of Riley's muzzle. "And what if I shot a bullet in your brain? Think you'd give us answers then!?"
Skinner cleared his throat, attracting the attention of both captor and captured. "Uh, boss? You shoot him there, he's dead!"
The big triceratops threw on a dumb look, mockingly, beating a scaled hand against his stiff horns. "You think I don't know that? You think I got a brain like this rat!?"
"Uh, uh..." Skinner glanced nervously from Riley to Watson.
"What about it, bucko? Think I don't know what I'm doing?"
Skinner's eyes were shot wide in true, unadulterated terror. "The...the temple!" He flung his head around in panic before meeting his partner's gaze. "I think it's giving out!"
"And...cut!"
The fear covering the lanky velociraptor's face melted into an honest grin. "Hell yeah! Nailed that!"
The aloof Watson didn't match his grin, but the corners of his mouth curved up when he glanced back at Riley.
Luiz cleared his throat from behind the cameras. "Ty's in next scene! We'll edit the shaking in later! Skinner?"
He spun around and nodded. "Yeah, boss?"
"Decent delivery, a bit flat in the middle: need more emotion in there, less hesitance. Bit of a throwaway. Watson?"
"Mhm?"
"Good diction, all right on the body language." Luiz idly tapped his fingers together. "Bit more strong-arming in the next shot, okay? Bit more power on the slap, too." Two of those fingers connected and pointed at his husband. "And Riley?"
A natural smile spread across Riley's face as he raised his head.
"Bit less intensity. Bit more struggling. Keep it up, after that!" He nodded once, and in the glow leaking out the side of a nearby light, Riley caught his wink. "Let's roll the next take!"
Skinner clapped before retreating to the back of the set once more, with Watson trailing close behind him. Riley turned his eyes back to the careful sculpted walls as the lemur crept back in front of the camera.
The ropes held him tight--even uncomfortably in his position against the post. However, the chubby opossum found a content grin crossing his face when he glanced back at his husband. Right there, in front of the camera, cloaked entirely under layers of rope wound under the bulk of his gut, an erection strained at the crotch of his suit.
"Starting take three..."
Riley closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the post. When the slate snapped shut, his eyes shot open.
"Action!"