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Ian sighed and rolled his shoulders. Nope, trying to change his sleep schedule hadn't helped that much, though the otter was a bit more of an experienced traveler now. Jet lag shouldn't hit him as hard as it had when he'd started college. Though flying was fucking exhausting, doubly so with all the hoops one had to jump through to go from America back to New Zealand.

First, relocating to college, getting in on a sport scholarship for swimming. Then traveling to compete in the Olympics. There were times he'd joked with his friends that he should take up backpacking, would get a more stable home then.

Moving back home was an ordeal though. Packing everything into suitcases that he needed, the rest being sold or crated. His folks would hold onto what he'd shipped home, but for now he was eager to hang out with his friends. They'd talked about arranging a welcome home party for him, which would be great. He couldn't wait to get back with them after the last few years. Organizing it had been a bit of an ordeal with everyone... well, having moved on in the last few years. "Move to another country, spend a few years in college, become an Olympic champion, and suddenly everything becomes difficult," Ian smirked to himself as he collected his suitcase.

Luckily, the airport wasn't too busy. Wasn't too surprising, considering the time of year and all. Plus he was away from the tourist hubs, which was good. He really, _really_didn't want to be recognized right now. He just wanted to get through customs, check; get his bags, check; and meet his friends outside. Which left only one thing.

"Where the fuck are they?" Ian looked up and down the road. A couple taxi drivers perked up hopefully, but slouched as he waved them off. He double checked his phone and...

It's dead.

"Fuck."

"Hey, I said I'm sorry," Martin put up his best grin. The sea lion leaned casually against the driver's door. "Lost track of time."

Ian was doing his best to put on a pouting face, though it was really hard with the sheer positive energy that radiated off the sea lion - plus it had been ages since he'd seen his friend. "Uh huh, and what is her name?" Ian flashed a knowing grin, "Or is it his name this time around? I've lost track." Martin had been through so many bedroom doors, it had become a joke, and then surpassed a joke to mundane banality.

"Their names are Molly and Nate, thank you very much. Should thank Molly cause she reminded me about picking you up. Especially since somebody..." he reached out to poke Ian's cheek, "...forgot to charge his phone."

He swatted the finger away, "I plugged it in, but I didn't know the port wasn't working. Fucking airlines, much as they charge think they'd keep charging ports up." A sigh. Still couldn't charge it cause the 12v port in the car was fucked as well. "Mhm, well, can't wait for the welcome home party. Got as much sleep as I could on the plane and upended my schedule back in the States." Shoulders rolled and back popped as the otter worked his frame out slowly. "Really can't wait to see Whitney again."

Martin' grin faltered just a bit, the barest twinge before jumping back. "Yeah man, got everyone lined up that can."

Ian's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, "What was that?"

"What was what?"

Eyes narrowed further. "That little frown when I said Whitney's name."

"Nothing, just been a while since I'd seen her, is all." Another twitch.

Now Ian felt that worry start to roll around, "Come on, man..."

A hand wave, "I'm sure it's nothing. Whitney's just been ghosting everyone for a..." he waved his hand, "...couple, few months. Said work was keeping her busy. She knows when the party is, sure she'll show." A moment of silence. "You're back, of course she's gonna show up."

"Yeah, I know."

Silence fell as Ian stared out the window. Yeah, he'd fallen out of touch with Whitney too. Kinda. She still texted him, but it was hard to get much of an answer beyond basic pleasantries. So there was that worry that had been gnawing at him. After everything they'd been through had Whitney moved on? He knew that studying abroad had been rough on him. He'd half-dated a few other ladies here and there. He and Whitney had talked about trying that - it'd been fun, but he'd kept it as just friends with those. She'd mentioned a guy here, a fella there, but she'd always been in the same state. Or at least he thought she was.

An elbow caught his side, "So... where is it?"

Ian blinked, "Huh?" It took him a few seconds before it clicked. "Oh yeah. It's in my bag," he thumbed back towards his suitcases. "I'll dig it out at your place. We are going to your place, right?"

"Ah yeah, got all settled in and got it all set up for everyone." Martin looked back towards the suitcase then at the road again. "If you want to catch a bit of a nap, I'll wake you when we get there."

He shook his head, "Nah, I sleep now, I'll probably be out for hours." Ian stretched slowly and winced as a couple sore muscles creaked. "Pulled enough all nighters that I can handle a party for a dozen hours."

"Or two!" Martin grinned.

Wasn't too much longer before the sea lion was pulling into a driveway and helping him into the house. He directed Ian back to a guest room and the shower - which, after most of a day in a plane, he felt all kinds of grimy. While Martin went to do... whatever it was that Martin did, Ian plugged his phone in, grabbed some clothes, and went for a shower.

The shower had always been a place to think, to let his mind roam through countless troubled thoughts and try to sort through them. At least his shower had been. This was a stranger shower. Nothing was where it should be, he couldn't enter The Zone to let his mind wander. Each time his mind started to drift to handle something, he'd bump into a bottle of shampoo, or some noise from the house would distract him, or worse. The hot water ran out.

Frustrated and betrayed, he cut the water and got out of the shower. A shower and fresh clothes did leave him feeling physically better, and it did help his mental state. Plus...

His gaze drifted to the box he'd brought into the shower with him. He couldn't help but smile as his fingers ran over the polished surface. Years of hard work. Doing his damnedest to split time between training and school and... Everything in the world. The otter breathed out a reverent sigh as he opened the box and stared down at the bronze medal.

Not just a bronze, but His Bronze. Sure, it wasn't a silver or a gold, but it was his. He'd placed third against the world's best at the Olympics. Whatever minor disappointment he'd felt was offset by that. He had stood toe to toe with giants and came in third. Sure, it had been rough, and there was the whole issue of which country he'd competed for. There'd been jokes back in University that he might have a rough time since he didn't represent 'Murica. Though most were just ecstatic to meet an actual Olympian.

And there were the girls.

So many just looking for that quick fling, to say they'd been with an Olympian. Get that bed cred. Hell, some of his friends had warned him about one that wanted some of that winner cash. Not that he would've gotten with her anyway - fun as crazy could be, she was a bit too much to even risk that.

Closing the lid, he slid the case under an arm and wandered into the house proper. "Heyy!" Martin called out, "There's the man of the hour!" The sea lion lounged against a counter. "Ian, this is Molly," he pointed towards an arctic fox with immaculately trimmed fur, "And Nate's gone to get some more beer cause Rog showed up early."

Ian's ears perked, "Roger's here?"

Heavy arms wrapped around him from behind as the jack lifted the otter, "Course I am!" The kangaroo was even larger than Ian remembered, shirt straining over muscles. "Gor, look at you! Put on some muscle of your own, swimmer boy!"

Ian laughed and reached back to grab at the scruffy jack's head. "Put me down you fuck!"

Martin grinned. "Of course he did, you're picking up certified Bronze Medal Material. Now put him down before you break something."

"Right," Rog bounced Ian a couple more times before letting him down. Though he did give Ian a hearty slap on the back, the blow hard enough to make the otter stagger. "Don't think they make insurance to protect against being Roo'd."

Turning, he gave the jack a few playful punches. The amateur boxer rocked back on his tail and held up his arms, ducking and weaving as Ian swung at him. "They probably do have it. Give someone enough money and they'll insure anything." Ian ducked under a slow hook and countered with an equally slow uppercut, "How you been?"

"Good," Rog grunted through clenched teeth, rocking further back equally as slow. Actually going back far enough Ian jumped when the roo jerked back upright. "Bring anything fancy back from the games with ya?"

Ian remembered and opened the box up, turning it so they could all ooh and aah at the medal. "Got this, naturally, and..." he reached into a pocket and fished out a handful of Olympic branded condoms, "Got these from the dorms." He set them down on the counter. "More in my bags too."

Martin picked one up and wiggled his eyebrows at Molly, which she pulled a face at him for. Roger grabbed one, "Might be too small for me," he flashed a grin. "Too small for you too," he nudged Ian playfully. "Missed having ya around, Pal. Been missing Whit though. She hadn't gone to the gym with me in..." he scratched his head, "Good month."

Ian's smile twinged downward a bit, "Yeah, seems everyone has been losing track of her." He couldn't see the look that Martin was giving Roger, but he did see the roo give a silent _wut?_towards the seal lion. Ian pretended he didn't notice either exchange. "I'll give her a call once my phone's charged. Damn thing died on the plane and _someone's_car doesn't have a working charger."

Martin pointed back, "Should know it's koozed, what car have I had that wasn't? It's a tradition."

"Really wish it wasn't," Nate wandered in, the pukeko giving Martin a peck, "I'd call for your help, but..." the bird glanced back as a swarm of people wandered in. Some Ian knew, others were new people, and all were carrying something. Ian felt his smile wilt just a bit more. Figured Martin would've put the word out and had an open invitation. Well, there were plenty of people to talk with, drink with, and maybe take his mind off things.

He couldn't help but think of Whitney. Going around the party and talking with friends had helped, but there were enough strangers that it turned into noise. He could get a good chat on, but then someone would show up, wanting to see the medal, talk with a celebrity, or something. Sure, it was a distraction, but not a good one. It was the part of touring that he'd hated most - playing nice. Sure, they were fun at college, but he could always leave those when he wanted. Well, that and the sponsorship. They were good money and a good choice, but those were exhausting days. Who knew filming a thirty second commercial could take _days_to complete.

Finding a quiet spot was impossible too. Bedroom doors were closed, and each time he checked one, someone was using it. The bathroom was an option, but that would be a bit rude to tie that up for too long. Lots of people inside, even more outside, yep. He was trapped here.

"Hey," a hand came down on his shoulder. Ian winced, but put on his best, practiced smile.

And he froze.

Whitney smiled at him. "Been trying to call you. Thought I'd catch you at the airport, but... just voicemail." She brushed hair out from her face and looked him over. She looked like he'd remembered. Not that it had been all that long since he'd seen her. They'd been video chatting, sharing pictures, so on and so forth. None of that mattered though, just seeing her again made him smile. Which made her smile back. "So, you got a pa..."

Ian stepped in and kissed her, hard. Whitney went wide-eyed at the sudden kiss, but wrapped her arms around him. Not the cliché, throwing arms around his shoulders and pulling him in - no, this was a Whitney kiss. She grabbed a handful of his hair with one hand. Her other went under his shirt, and she wrenched him into a deeper kiss. The tug was enough to make him gasp, allowing her tongue to force its way past his lips. Not to be outdone, Ian grabbed handfuls of thigh and rear, lifting Whitney up.

His strength must have surprised her cause he felt the squeak, which only made her redouble her efforts - the otter's weight falling onto him as she leapt up and threw her legs around him. It was enough to make him stagger, Whitney catching them with a hand. She felt... a door. Feeling around, she found the knob and twisted while pushing at Ian. He pulled them upright just enough to let her open the door and fall into a closet.

One of them whipped the door shut, casting them into darkness. Not that either of them needed the light to continue their greeting. Or air, judging from how their tongues were trying to get as deep down the other's throat as possible.

Ian broke the kiss with a gasp, feeling one of Whitney's hands right on his lap. She let out a panting giggle before her mouth found his neck. Kissing and biting at his neck with playful growls. His belt came off with a nearly musical chime. Ian huffed at the bites and tightness as she fought to get his pants down. He'd return the favor, but both his hands were occupied with gripping her rear. So instead, he kept kneading her rump, feeling over and around the edges of her tail. She knew full well what he was going for and started to squirm. The skilled otter somehow getting her pants open as well.

Both gasped and shuddered as their scents practically filled the closet. There wasn't a lot of room, they were crowded in there alongside who knew what else. Neither cared.

Somehow, between the grasping hands and wiggling bodies, they managed to get their pants and underwear out of the way. Ian's cock pressed up against Whitney's pussy. Grinding into that soft fur there, feeling how warm and slick she already was. The curved shape of his length almost perfectly matching the curve of her own body. His breath caught in his throat as her fingers trailed down and teased his tip. Ever so lightly teasing his glans with the tips of her fingers. Each stroke brought a drop of precum from the male and a breathy shudder.

BANG! "Ah fuck would you watch out?"

The voice came through the closet door, reminding them just how many people were out there. Ian's back stiffened, ear turned towards the door. Whitney held her breath as well. Both waiting as something scraped outside the door and moved past.

"Should probably keep quiet."

"Yeah, don't want anyone interrupting..."

"Maybe we should find somewhere more private."

"Sounds like a smart idea."

Neither moved. Ian's hips rocked just a little, grinding his manhood against Whitney's bare body. Her breath hitched. That little gasp followed by a lip bite. Even in the pitch black, he could picture it. Ian pressed to her, leaning in to bite her neck. Whitney huffed, shifting herself in retaliation. It took the barest touch of her fingers to guide him further down. His next teasing push turning into a breathless penetration for the pair.

Ian's teeth dug into her neck to keep from moaning out. Despite everything, it had been months since he'd been with anyone. Countless hours training, travel, competing, it took everything out of him. Now here he was, happily balls deep inside Whitney. Her warmth soaked his length and pressed about him from all sides. Nails dug into his shoulders as she arched, tail swinging up as she gave the barest bounce against his lap. Hardly anything, just enough to stir his cock inside her as her walls fluttered.

She buried her head into his shoulder and grunted, legs clenched tight about his core as she bounced. That spurred him on. The boar happily drawing back and giving another thrust, then another, each coming faster than the last. Hands groped about the dark, finding a box that she could perch on.

It was cramped, dark, stuffy, they were mere inches away from dozens of people, and neither cared. Any time either seemed like they were going to make a noise, the other was there. Silencing with a kiss, a shoulder, or even fingers. Though Ian wasn't sure how he felt about Whitney stroking his tongue and whispering, "Suck it, bitch," through excited pants. Which just made him nip at her fingers in return.

He wasn't going to last at this rate. Neither was she, judging from the way her hips lifted to his and the "Ian, I'm gonna..." she huffed before grabbing his head and pulling him into a kiss.

Now this he could get behind. Suckling on her tongue as she moaned her pleasures to him. Thighs squeezing his hips with each wave of her orgasm. Her tail cracked against the box she was on, threatening to knock it over. His fingers tightened against her hips, keeping her steady even as he pressed himself flush. It was everything he remembered and more. Any other time, he would have slowed down, teased her, make her flustered, but now? He was hot on her heels. Pressing himself balls deep in the sow as his orgasm found him an instant after hers.

Both held their breath, basking in the afterglow of the moment. Sharing sharp little gasps as their tongues lay against each other. Eyes lidded in pleasure as his sac lifted with each spray. The steady thump thump of his seed painting her walls.

"Ah shit," Whitney huffed and pushed at his chest. "Find a light, would ya?"

Ian groped about in the dark, "What?"

His fingers found a cord and pulled it, nearly blinding the pair. Whitney hissed under her breath, "Fuck fuck..." she looked about and grabbed a shirt. One of Martin's, from the size of it. "Shouldn't have done that..." she quickly started to wipe herself clean, muttering under her breath.

There was that worry again, "Whitney, what's the matter?" He reached out to touch her shoulder, but pulled up short as she shot him a look.

"It's..." she looked away, "It's nothing." She fixed him with a smile, "Hey, great to see you. One hell of a way to say welcome back home, hey?" Whitney hurriedly pulled her pants back up and fastened them. "I'll... Make sure the coast is clear."

And then she was gone, slipping out of the closet quickly.

It took Ian a few seconds to process everything that happened. Confusion. Hurt. Then anger. He went to rip the door open, before remembering that he was hanging in the breeze. Tuck, zip, and he was out the door.

He nearly bowled over Molly. The fox took a step back and blinked at him, then past him. "Didn't know you were in the closet. Martin will love to know you came out."

"D..." he stopped mid-question and wrinkled his nose at her. She grinned back at him. "As if Martin could handle me. Say, did you see Whitney come through here? We were just..." he thought. "Finding somewhere quiet to talk."

Her nose twitched, "Talk, mhmm." Molly thumbed over her shoulder. "She went to the bathroom. Anything I should be aware of in our closet?"

It was hard not to like her, with that easy tone and smile - though his attention was elsewhere. "Yeah, just tell Martin sorry about the shirt." He put on his best easy smile and moved closer to the bathroom door. Staying near and perking an ear as he heard someone moving around.

While he felt a bit awkward, standing outside the bathroom like that while people milled about. "You got next?" a possum asked.

"Nah, just waiting on a friend."

Took just a moment more before the door opened and Whitney came out. She glanced at Ian, looked away, then back with a smile. "Woof," she looked past him at the possum, "Someone else wrecked it, so pinch the nose."

"Great," droned the possum as he ambled past.

"So..." Whitney leaned against the wall.

Ian leaned against the wall beside her, "So."

"Sorry about not calling more."

They blinked at each other.

"You first."

"No, you first."

The otters wrinkled their noses at each other.

"Fucker," Whitney chuffed.

"Bitch," Ian grumbled.

The angry faces lasted a second before grins split their muzzles. Ian held his hand up, Whitney mirrored. "One, two, three... Fuck."

Ian grinned. "So, what's up with..." he motioned from the bathroom to the closet. "Y'know."

She waved her hand. "It's complicated. So what about you? Get back home and ignore my calls?"

"Phone died on the plane ride, and Martin's car is..."

"Martin's car," they chimed together, then grinned. It felt good to talk with Whitney again, but there was still something that was bothering Ian.

Ian angled his head. "So, been busy the last couple weeks?"

Whitney shrugged. "Just work, yanno. Plus you were doing all..." she waved her hand vaguely, "...that stuff, so didn't want to distract you too much with nudies of me. Especially if someone else saw your phone and got jealous." She covered a yawn with a hand. "Though I really just came around to say hi, just got off work. Walked right over." Even with her hand up, he could see that smile falter a hair. "Didn't expect you back so soon."

Ignoring it, he laughed and rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah. Swapped tickets and came a couple days early. Didn't want my folks monopolizing my time right off Would rather spend it with friends." His ear twitched. "If you'll give me a minute to grab my phone, wouldn't mind walking and talking."

"Um... Yeah. Sounds good."

She hesitated.

It was just the barest hint of hesitation. If someone didn't know her well, they wouldn't have noticed it. He knew Whitney pretty well, they'd been best buds for years. Be a pretty shitty friend if he couldn't read her - though he was also a couple years out of touch. Maybe he was overthinking things? He had noticed he did that a lot more after college.

He smiled. "Great, I'll grab my phone."

Whitney fell into step behind him as they wove through the assembled masses. Getting to his things was another task, since there was someone on the guest bed. "Don't mind me," he shielded his face. "Just grabbing my phone."

One of the party waved him off. Then stopped and looked. "Whoa hey, You're Ian. Aw man, I can't believe it!" The platypus sat up. "Hey, can I get a picture with you real quick?"

"Yeah, just real quick, was about to step outside for some air."

He caught Whitney rolling her eyes, but stepped aside as the pant-less platy hopped up to get a selfie with the Olympian. Something which left their partner rather annoyed, the feline hissing as the platypus tried to rejoin her. Ian grabbed his phone and hurried out, Whitney closing the door right as things were getting heated.

"Oof."

"Double oof," he agreed.

They made it all of a couple steps before someone else stopped them. "Oh hey, Mr. Olympic Swimmer!" Which started a chain reaction. Ian kept up that forced smile and pictures, trying his best to work his way towards the door.

"Hey man," Rog's voice whispered in his ear. "The fuck happened? Just saw Whitney storm out the door."

Ian jerked around. "What? Ah fuck, was trying to get out to chat with her." He eyed up his kangaroo friend as someone else approached with camera in hand. Then at the front door beyond them. "Hey, got a huge ask for you."

Rog's face twisted into a playful grin. "Say no more. Just don't call me your personal bouncer and we're cool." He swept Ian up in his arms and hummed, "I can be your hero, baby."

"I swear to fucking God..."

"Shhh," Roger stood proud. "Let me have this." He plowed his way through the crowd in a way that only the massive roo could. Which mostly involved walking forward and not stopping if someone didn't step aside quick enough. Thankfully, it wasn't too far to the door.

"I could have walked, you know."

Rog grinned. "I know, more fun my way." With that, he turned and went to apologize to the few people he'd bowled over.

Whitney was a ways down the street when Ian caught up. "Hey sorry about that. Still getting used to," he waved his hand back at the house.

"It's fine," came the somewhat hollow response. "I just had to get out." She shrugged and offered a bit of a smile. "Kinda fallen out of the party scene, you know. Martin's never known how to have a small get together anyway." She smothered another yawn as they kept walking.

Silence fell for a long moment as Ian fell into step beside her. "So," he uttered after several minutes. "What have you been up to?"

Whitney shrugged. "Working mostly, keeping my head above water. Got a gig as a swimming instructor down at the Center. Worked a couple other odd jobs here and there. Got my bike stolen a couple weeks ago, but... yanno. Nothing important. What about you, Mr Celebrity? Got any exciting job offers lined up now that you're home?"

"Not really. I've got some money set aside, so I figured I could take it easy for a month or two. Unwind after everything else." He felt uneasy. That was not something he was the least bit used to. Whitney had always been the one person he felt most at ease with. Didn't matter if they were watching movies, practicing, or fucking around. Was it something with him? With her? He felt like there was something there, an unseen wall that lay between them. Something that had dropped for a moment earlier, but was back up. "The folks aren't expecting me home for a few more days. Figured I could get settled and get over the jet lag and all that before then. Maybe even find a place to stay so I'm not shoved back into my old room."

"Heavens forbid."

Silence fell again. Ian glanced at Whitney, but she kept her focus ahead, staring down the road. She had a sullen look about her. He took a longer look, not the easiest thing on the mostly dark road. There was something about the way she was holding herself. Just a step away from him, hands in pockets, shoulders down.

"Hey, is there something wrong?"

"Why would anything be wrong? You're back now. It's all good now."

Anger flashed through him again. "What is your problem?"

Whitney spun on him, "My problem? My problem? You wanna know what my fucking problem is? Fine! I'll tell you what my fucking problem is. My problem is that I've been stuck here in bum-fuck nowhere, teaching snotty little assholes how to backstroke just so their mothers can come bitch at me because their precious little darling isn't the next Gold fucking Medalist already. My problem is that I've been working three goddamn jobs just so I can scrape up enough money to be able to take a couple weeks off and get something nice; then you just rock up early 'cause you can. I only just found out about this last minute thanks to Molly. Show up and you're surrounded by admirers who don't know who the fuck you are except you're so goddamn famous. Then the moment you see me, you look at me like I'm your last hope, grab me and give me a great fucking kiss, and then fuck me silly in a closet. And I'm an idiot cause I haven't kept up on the shot, so that was the riskiest thing I've done in literally... "

She took a breath, and her lip quivered, "You've been out there, going to college, winning a bronze medal nd getting famous, having all kinds of girls swoon over you, and I'm just..." another breath, this one breaking into a near sob. "Stuck here." Whitney angrily drove the palm of her hand into her eye to wipe at the tear there. "I'm just so... Tired..."

Ian stood there and stared at her. Stunned couldn't begin to sum up how he felt. He'd never in his life seen Whitney like this. Every ounce of anger he'd felt melted as his heart broke for her. He took a step towards her, but she turned away. "Now look at me, weeping away like some bitch little puss just waiting for a hero to sweep in and save the day."

He took another step towards her. Then carefully wrapped an arm around her and drew her back. His chin came to rest against her shoulder. "Hey. We both know you're too tough to be a damsel." She sobbed out what might have been a laugh. "And I'm no goddamn hero. Yeah, I worked my ass off to get where I am, but fuck me, you worked twice as hard and twice as long. I had to bust my ass just to keep up with you."

Whitney snorted, a wet, ugly sound. "Keep up with me? You were always five steps ahead and running."

"I had to be. Hey, I know I got lucky. Well off family. College fund all set up for me." He could feel the lump in his throat as his voice dropped. "I had to keep ahead so I make a better life for us. For you." She stilled and he nuzzled into her neck. "I love you, Whitney. I always have."

She tensed just a little, "Ian..." Then turned to look at him. "That's hella gay, loving your best friend?" Then she smiled and tried to laugh, but the sound was broken up by her sobs. "God, I am a fucking mess right now." She swiped at her eyes more and snorted some more. "Wouldn't be like this if I didn't just work a double."

"Hopefully it'll be the last you have to work." He gave her cheek a kiss and leaned in, bumping her nose with his. "I know better than to try and rescue you. You'd kick my ass. But fuck me, Whit. I'm offering you my hand. Let me help you up. Let's figure all this out together. Okay?"

Whitney hesitated again. Bowed her head a moment to think. "Okay..." It was quiet, barely even a whisper. "Okay. But if you turn misogynistic, I'm going to kick your ass."

"I wouldn't expect any less from you. Gotta take me to task." He smiled and wiped her cheek with a finger. She smiled up at him, nuzzling into his hands. Then slowly leaned up towards him, whiskers brushing as they leaned in for a kiss.

Honk!

They jumped at the car horn, Ian's cheeks flushing as he realized they were still in the middle of the road. Whitney, however...

"Hey! We're having a moment here!"

Another long blast of the horn, "GET OUT OF THE ROAD!"

"Oh you want me out of the road? I'll get out of the road!" Ian had to grab her to keep Whitney from kicking the car. Shouting an apology to the driver as he hauled her out of the street.

Whitney had a studio apartment just a couple miles from Martin's home, and a short walk from the center. "It ain't much," she muttered as she strode through the apartment towards her bed. "Certainly not what your five-star ass is used to." She tried for her usual playful tone, but he could just hear the weariness.

It really wasn't. Kitchenette blended into a living space right. An ancient couch practically butted against Whitney's bed. Her TV sat on a plank between two milk crates. The only doors lead outside, to the bathroom, and out onto what he had to assume was a balcony.

"I like it," he offered up. Attention shifting to Whitney as she shuffled towards her bed, already shedding her clothes. "View's pretty good too."

A snorted laugh, "Pervert." Though it didn't stop her from flagging her tail at him as she bent forward. Wiggling her rear slowly as she undressed. "I," she started, throwing clothes down into a hamper, "am going to take a shower." Whitney stalled for a moment and glanced back at him. "I'd want you there, but..." There was that flash of something.

Ian put on an easy smile, "Hey, it's okay." He thought a moment as she straightened. "Why don't I go grab my bag while you shower?"

"Yeah, sounds good." She fished her pants back out and dug her keys out, tossing them to Ian. "Don't get lost, Bronze Boy."

Getting his bags were easy. A call to Martin got him Nate, who got him Rog, who met him just a ways down the road with his bags and a ride back to Whitney's complex. Back up in her apartment, Ian found a single light on in the kitchenette. The bathroom door was open and air was still humid. A quick look showed a lump in the shadows of the bed. Quietly, he locked up and undressed. Didn't know if she always left the light on or not. So he left it on and padded across the room.

"Turn off the light. Ain't made of money."

The reply was sleep-muzzed and came from the lump. "Okay," he chuckled and clicked the light off. Undressing and making his way across the apartment in the dark. Which meant a slow shuffling before he bumped into the bed.

Whitney lay with her back to him as he slid under the covers. Part of him wanted to slide up behind her. Spoon her. Maybe get a little frisky. The soft breathing and confrontation made the choice for him, not to mention just how tired he was feeling. So instead, he got himself settled and yawned. Eyes drifting closed as the very long day caught up to him.

Though it couldn't keep the smile from his face as Whitney turned and draped herself against him. He turned and kissed her head, breathing in the shower fresh scent.

Whitney was slow to drag herself from sleep. There was that moment of weary panic as she saw light creeping around her blanket cocoon. A panic that settled as she remembered that she didn't have to get up. The otter sow groaned and shifted under the blankets, feeling blindly about as the memory of cuddling up with Ian surfaced.

"Good morning," came the soft voice. Not in the bed with her, but close.

"Morning," she groaned as she peeled the blankets back catching a whiff of something delicious smelling.

Ian was in her kitchenette busying himself with cooking. "Look at you, being all domestic," she groaned as she rolled around to look at him. Not wanting to leave her comfortable cocoon just yet. Plus it gave her a chance to really look at him now. He had a pair of shorts and a shirt on. Fur still damp from a shower. He looked good. Really good. Even from here, she could see he'd put on a fair bit of muscle from the last time she'd seen him. She knew he was stronger after last night. Her cheeks flushed at that memory. How good it had felt to have him pin her to a wall, almost forcing himself on her. She hadn't seen that type of hunger from him before and it had been thrilling.

He flashed a grin, "What can I say? College life then training. Either eat junk or learn to cook a few things. Not five star, but I do make a mean frittata. Woke up early and thought this would be nice." He slid the meal onto a plate. "So I jogged down to the store and picked up a few things."

A flash of embarrassment. He must have seen just how bare her fridge was. Working what she did meant many of her meals were either pre-made or instant. The last few months had been grueling, but maybe it'd be worth it. "Yeah," she started. "I hadn't had the chance to go shopping this week. Figured I'd ask the neighbors for milk if I needed. Let him fantasize about it being one of those pornos he watches too fucking loud." She slid out from the blankets finally, not caring that she was naked. Nothing Ian hadn't seen before. Though while he was looking at the stove, she did grab a box from her nightstand and palmed it before dropping onto the couch.

Ian watched her closely as she got up. He hadn't really had a chance to see her naked last night. Now he couldn't help but stare at her. Now he could see the weariness, the bags under her eyes. Her hair was still in her favorite style - shaved down on one side, long on the other and dyed a vibrant blue. Though the blue was growing out, her roots getting long. Her sleek swimmer's body had gained a little more curve to it. Not as lean and mean as she had been, but certainly not overweight by any stretch. Might have something to do with the crates of instant noodles adorning her cabinets, and the take away containers left in her fridge.

"Well I just picked up a few staples. Eggs, milk, bread." He moved over to her as she dropped to the couch. Swinging the plate low, he wiggled his eyebrows, "Sausage."

"Careful with your huevos there," she took the plate and held it as he settled with her. "Just the one?"

"I might have already gorged myself on one. Plus..." he plucked a bit from her plate. "I can always steal a bite when you're distracted."

"You know, I'd really hate to stab you so soon after you get back." Whitney brandished the fork threateningly before digging into the meal. It was certainly loads better than fast food. Probably one of the best meals she'd had in months. She stuffed another mouthful before starting, "Oh yeah," came the eggy exclamation. "Should show you around." Chewing this time, she pointed around the apartment, "Bed, kitchen, bathroom, balcony, closet, and... That's it."

Ian's ears perked, "I hadn't checked the balcony yet." Whitney waited for him to stand up before giving his ass a slap hard enough that the male jumped with a yelp. He shot her a look, rubbing his backside as she grinned. "Cheeky."

"Damn right. Also holy hell, buns of steel much? 'Bout broke my hand on that ass." She hesitated as he went towards the curtains. "Hey, Ian?" He stilled and looked at her. "So last night when I..." she ground her teeth for a moment. Sighed. She looked down and poked at her meal. "Did you mean it? Were you really offering me your hand?"

Ears perked at the odd phrasing, "Yeah." He came back over and half-knelt before her. "Every word. You've been my driving force for so long. You mean so much to me, Whitney. I want to help you in whatever way you want me to."

She looked away. Worried her lip a little as he knelt there. Then smiled. "Good." She unceremoniously tossed a box at him, "Cause I busted my ass for that."

Ian fumbled with the box, nearly dropping it. Curious, he cracked the lid open and...

"You absolute bitch!" Ian barked and laughed the words at the same time. "Here I was going to give us a few days, make sure things are all good, and then I was going to ask you; but noooo." He was grinning ear to ear as he ran his fingers over the ring in the box.

Whitney was playing it too cool, but she was an absolute bundle of nerves, "So it's a yes then?" she tried to keep her wavering voice calm.

Lurching to his feet, he stormed over to his bags and dug out a box of his own. "Damn right it is, you impatient trollop!" Baseball throwing the box into the couch beside her. Neither otter could keep the smile off their face or the tears from their cheeks.

"Well excuse me, not my fault I was just faster than you." She took a bite of her breakfast. "Not like I'm the only one in this world quicker than you."

Ian gasped and put a hand on his chest in mock hurt, "Was that a shot at my medal? Why I've never been so insulted in the last five minutes!" He knew she was kidding about that. She'd gotten a text to him faster than his own parents had, congratulating him. Though her message of holy fucking shit! was the best.

"Maybe it was," she finished her meal. "What you gonna do about it?"

"Storm off in a dramatic fashion!"

He did his best huff and pushed past the curtains, "How do you unlock this... Nevermind, I got it." The balcony door slid open, letting in a breeze.

Whitney grinned after him. Then picked up the velvet box, running her fingers over the surface before cracking it open. She wasn't one for jewelry, rings especially. Webbed fingers made it hard, but Ian was traditional in some ways. It's why she'd gotten him a ring. He had gotten her a bracelet. Something practical to wear, but with a lovely pattern shaped into it. Far fancier than what she'd gotten him. Not that it mattered, as she saw him wistfully rubbing the band. She'd have sold herself on the street if it meant him having that look on his face.

Putting the box and plate aside, she moved out to join him on the balcony. Not really caring that she was utterly naked. Hers wasn't a corner apartment, and there was no building facing it. She'd gotten lucky to get a beach-facing apartment. Which coming out, seeing Ian framed in the morning sun, was enough to take anyone's breath away.

Not to be outdone, she leaned against the railing with a sigh. "You know, I forgot how good the view is out here."

He moved beside her and gave her hip a playful bump. "Even better with you here."

"Fucking flirt."

The otters leaned against each other. Whitney nuzzling into the corner of his neck, Ian rubbing his chin against her hair. "Mhmm." He planted a kiss. "So we good?"

Whitney let her tail slide against his. "We good."

Ian chuckled quietly. "So, I gave you a great fucking kiss?"

She wrinkled her muzzle. "First kiss I'd had since the last one you gave me." Though she did turn her head towards him. Breathing out a gasp as his hand snuck around to tease her bare breast. "Are we getting naughty?"

He hummed out an affirmative that was almost a growl.

"In public?"

Ian gave her neck a little bite. "I don't see any people, do you? Besides," he trailed off as his hands explored her thighs. The boar stepped behind her slowly, stroking her thighs, drawing her against him, grinding into her backside. "Last night was kinda hot, wasn't it? Going at it in the closet. People just feet away from us." She shifted as he pressed to her, feeling his growing erection through his shorts. All it took was a push and she had his pants coming down. "Trying not to get caught..."

"Mmmph," she grunted as she bit her bottom lip. "When did you get naughty like that?" Whitney huffed, "Last I remember, kinkiest thing you wanted was to knock me up." She slowly stepped her feet apart, tail sliding over his side. A gasp rang out as his fingers framed her pussy, teasing her with the very tips of his nails.

"That..." he huffed quietly, using his fingers to draw her back against him. Happily grinding his raging erection against her shapely ass. "Was you, little miss lets-risk-it."

Whitney looked back at him, hair falling over her eye as she smirked. "Well then, let's. Your risk of being caught, and my risk of..." she leaned forward and placed her hands on the railing. "Let's really go for it." Their first time had been a game. A stupid, risky game that nothing came of. The second time was even more risky, but she'd stacked the deck. She'd still been on her birth control, but hadn't told him. Now? Well, she hadn't had the time or energy to go get it up to date. Just thinking about it made butterflies dance in her stomach and her cheeks flush hot.

Then hotter still as Ian lined up with her. "Why not?" he said almost too casually. "We're in this together now. Fully committed. In for a penny."

"In for a p..." She had to bite the word off as he hammered into her, slick walls clenching hard around his cock as the male jostled her forward. "Pounding!" she gasped, trying to keep her voice low. Even if they were harder to spot, if she started crying out, someone would probably look.

His heart jumped as he felt Whitney around him again. The way her hips wiggled into his, how she felt around him, and that cute, flushed expression of hers. His cock twitched in her, more than eager to do what came naturally. She shoved back as he ground against her, every bit as eager as he was. Both riding the emotional high from moments ago, and neither ready to slow down.

Nails dug into her thighs as he leaned forward, fucking her like a wild animal. Thrusts sharp and shallow, body clapping off her rear. Whitney arched, panting with each thrust. Slamming her hips back into his as hard as she dared, holding onto the railing for support. Damn good thing they'd reinforced them lately, especially as Ian started to hammer her harder. The steady, dull clap of his hips off hers competing with the distant sound of waves crashing off the beach.

"Harder."

Whitney hissed the word between clenched teeth, Ian being more than happy to oblige. One hand gliding along her hip and digging his fingers into her thigh, the other roaming up her front. Around a breast, grabbing it and pulling her back into his neck thrust - the sheer force of his next making their bodies clap sharply off each other. She had to stuff her wrist into her mouth and bite down to hold the yelp back. Yet her hips only drove into his lap with more force.

Ian growled, "You like that?" He was breathing harder now, his sac already starting to twitch. Fuck, this was hot. This was hotter than hot. Public sex had always been one of those things in his regular porn watching rotation. Pretty sure every guy looked it up at least once. But to be here, on a balcony, balls deep in Whitney, all while he could see people wandering below? He leaned forward to give her shoulder a bite. Eyes darting down to look at the path below. Not a lot of people, but if one of them so much as looked up, they'd probably see the pair. It was almost too much for him.

Not that he was the only one enjoying it. Public sex did have that thrill, but Whitney felt a strange churning in her gut as Ian fucked her raw. They'd had sex plenty of time over the years. Phone sex, sexting, a sneaky blowjob in the bathroom at his parent's house; pretty much the usual. Each time it felt like there had been something he'd been holding back, restrained just out of reach. Now here she was, bent over her balcony, staring down at the foot path, and she was just holding back from squealing as he fucked her.

Fingers wove through her hair and pulled. Whitney winced and gasped, back arching. Ian's teeth found her ear and nipped it. The boar just managing to gasp out, "Gonna cum..."

She had to practically shove her hand into her mouth to muffle her scream. Her thighs shook as she came harder than she had in years. Ian tightened his grip as she thrashed, pulling her that much tighter to him. Not that he was going to last much longer. A couple more strokes, if you could call those bare grinds a stroke, and he was against her. Mouth buried into her shoulder with a "Mmmph!" as he filled her.

Her mind played with her. Filling her head with that pornographic thought of his seed spraying against her walls. Of countless Olympic level sperm swimming their way deeper into her, racing for the chance to find her eggs. Of reaching their destination and assaulting an egg, pushing through, and...

Teeth dug into Whitney's knuckles as she nearly collapsed back against him, her eyes rolling about as she panted. She knew that wasn't how it happened. That it would take hours, days, before anything might come of it. Yet the mental image lay there, making her stomach burn with that long-denied fantasy of hers. Their first time had been luck that she hadn't wound up pregnant. After that... well she might have been on the shot then. Now it was au naturel. The intent was there with both of them. She could only roll her head to look at Ian as he fixed her with a dumb smile of his own. They leaned in close and lips brushed in a kiss.

"So what do you want to do?" Whitney was sprawled across Ian. The pair of them in a somewhat awkward heap on the bed. They'd been savoring the afterglow of their outdoor romp, and been enjoying some aftercare.

"Well," Ian mused and checked his phone. It had been pinging at him for the last bit. "Rog did want to hang out with both of us. Get our lunch on." His voice was slow, tone lazy. "We can always grab a movie too." Whitney's ear twitched at that. "Should get out or we'll be here all day."

"You say that like it's a problem." She stretched and groaned. "Mmm, hadn't been to one in a while."

He planted a kiss on her head. "Then why don't we go? Get some food, go to whatever tickles our fancy. His fingers danced up her spine in a way that made her shiver. "Maybe even go for a swim later."

Whitney heaved a sigh. "Gawds, fine." Her tone carrying mock frustration. "Let me shower then we'll meet Rog for some food." She rolled off the bed and got up, "And don't even think of joining me, or we'll be here all day." She threw back at him with a smirk.

In all honesty, she had expected him to join her. They could both use a scrub after their rut, plus another one never hurt. She was surprised he didn't slide in with her. Even more surprised to come back and finding him dozing on the bed. The otter male sprawled out, phone resting in his hand, and snoring quietly.

She grinned and sashayed over to the bed. Oh so quietly pulling herself onto it ."Hey Ian," she whispered, "you awake?" Just a bare snore. Poor guy was worn out from everything that had been going on. Travel, the party, last night, and then this morning. She should really let him sleep some. Let Rog know that Ian was down for the count and might not be up until later.

Though it seemed a part of him was up.

As she leaned over him, she couldn't help but notice the male's sizable swell. "Oh," she purred, "what's this?" Whitney cupped his bulge and massaged it through his shorts. "Now," she mused to herself, "what sort of dream are you having?" Each stroke met with a throb of his hidden manhood. Didn't take more than a couple seconds before he was straining at his shorts. A strain that she was all too eager to release. Peeling his pants down with all the care she could muster.

They'd done this sort of play many times in the past. One would wake up to find the other excited, and then, well, have fun. The game was all in trying to see how far they could take it before the other woke. It was something she was pretty good at, though it helped that Ian was such a heavy sleeper.

"Ahhhommm..." she hummed as she slipped his raging erection into her mouth. The lovely, manly taste of it filling her maw. A pleased hum shook through her jaws and shuddered down his cock as she bobbed her head slowly. Even that first stroke enough to reward her with a healthy shot of his precum - something she gladly swallowed before taking him further.

Her hands weren't idle either. While one kept her propped up, the other slipped between her leg, casually teasing herself. Excitement building quickly as she huffed around him.

"Nnnng..."

Whitney froze as Ian stirred. Two fingers framing her pussy, a third teasing her clit, and her mouth halfway down his cock. He muttered something else in his slumber, rolled his head, and snorted. Only when his half-snoring resumed did she pick up again. Head bobbing steadily as her tongue danced over his delicious curve. Savoring every pulse of his shaft, each shot of precum. Even that heady musk that came with him being a mustelid. She relished in every moment of it.

The point wasn't to get him off. That would be all too easy. No, the game had to have some more to it. A risk that would make the game all worth it.

In a smooth motion, she pulled up and licked her lips. Ever so casually straddling her sleeping partner. She let her weight come down on his lap. Breath hitching in her throat as she pressed her pussy against his cock. Grinding into the slumbering Ian slowly. Letting her excitement coat his. Not for long. Just a few seconds before she rocked forward and lined him up. Biting her teeth to hold back her moan as she sank down on his length.

Whitney grinned and planted her knees on either side of Ian's sleeping form. Bracing her hands on either side of his head, she arched her back, and slowly began to ride him. Huffing at the feel of him in her. Savoring the feel of her partner sliding into her depths. It was enough to put a smile on her face, biting her lip to keep back the moan as she casually rolled her hips. Not wanting to wake Ian up. He'd had a long trip, and she knew just how much it sucked to be jet lagged. She was just helping him relax some more.

Hands grabbed her shoulders and wrenched her over. Whitney squeaked at the sudden motion, caught off guard enough that Ian was able to roll so he was on top. "Sneaky little..." he trailed off as he shifted and grabbed one of her legs. In between one thrust and the next, he had her knee pressed up towards her shoulder. "Coming after me while I'm dozing?" Another thrust, and her other leg was pinned between their chests.

She growled up at him, trying to hide the moan as Ian got her in a proper mating press. Using his weight to keep her legs pinned even as he slammed her into the bed. "Wh-what was I suppo..." she had to bite her lip and take a breath as he rolled his hips just so. "Supposed to do, just leave you there?"

"Maybe," he play-growled back at her. "Cause now..." he leaned in to nip her lips, pressing his head between her legs. Ian didn't stop, using his swimmer's physique to slam into her. The impact of his hips on hers enough to drive the breath from her lungs. Yet she stubbornly tried to hold onto the lazy attitude. His voice dropped deeper, "Now daddy's gonna breed his girl."

That made Whitney writhe, and not in a sensual way. "Daddy? Ew!" she tried to roll, but Ian pinned her that much tighter. "I no longer consent to this!" Yet even in her play-fight, she still pressed up with her tail, giving her that much more leverage as he hammered down into her.

Ian grinned savagely at her, "Would you rather call me Step-Bro?"

"Okay, that was just that one time!" She gasped as one hand shot between her thighs, playing with her clit in quick, devious circles. "Ah... ah... and only 'cause you were watching that stuck porn." Fuck! He was starting to hit all her buttons at once. The hard pounds, pinning her to the bed, really grinding his sac against her, and his mouth... He wasn't just teasing her, but he was planting little bites and kisses on her anywhere he could reach. With the position she was in, that meant that he was covering her legs, neck, breasts, and more in those love bites. And his fingers... those fucking fingers were bringing her to a quick finish. Didn't take too long before his skilled digits had her arching and panting under him. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing her peak.

Ian knew, though. "Uh huh," he huffed, shifting to plant his hands on her legs. Further folding his lover in half as he leaned back. "You know," he grunted, really starting to roll his hips. "I never imagined you to have a submissive streak like this." He jerked his hips to the side, then higher up. Using the shape of his length to really work her over. "Pin you down and make you cum in seconds." He leaned forward again, planting her ankles near her ears. Whitney's core ached, but not too bad. She'd always been flexible, and yoga was easy to keep up with. "Should I call you my..." he leaned down to bite her ear, "Princess?"

"Ah...mmmph... fuck you."

She tried to bite at his neck, but the boar was too quick. He caught her mouth with his and pinned her, forcing his tongue deep into her mouth. Deep enough that Whitney nearly gagged on it. Her body heaving as much as it could in his hold.

Though maybe that was because he was fucking her right from one orgasm into another.

It was all she could do just to kiss him back. Putting up that last bit of token resistance as she felt his thrusts grow shallow and fast. Railing her with a wild savagery she'd only imagined from her longtime friend. Her thighs quaked and tail cracked off the bed as he managed to squeeze a second peak out of her. Eyes fluttering as the sow arched into her partner. Whitney grabbing at the bed, his shoulders, anything she could.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her eyes rolled back as she felt it. That wonderful spray of his seed painting her deepest reaches, filling her up. She was keenly aware of the feel of his sac against her tail. How it would lift and jump with each spurt. How his cock twitched, rolling inside her. Then that raw, unadulterated heat of virile otter seed pooling inside her nethers.

Ian broke the kiss slowly and smiled down at her. His panting grin met with a blushing smile. "Bronze medal. Two person race and still came third." That earned him a swat. "I deserved that. Keep those legs up for a sec." Even as she grabbed her own ankles, he kept a hand on her leg to help keep them up. Whitney craned her head, feeling his spunk start leaking from her. Ian grinned, grabbed his phone, and snapped a picture of her. "Hey!" she yelped, huffing as he dropped his phone and casually swept his seed up with a finger. "Better not share that," she grumbled at him. Shivering at the feel of Ian casually scooping his seed back into her.

"Oh I won't," he churred. "Well, aside from sending it to Roger and posting it on Daddy's Princess dot com so..."

Whitney threw him off the bed, only to follow him a second later. "I'll show you fucking Princess!"

"Sorry we're late." Ian grinned, Whitney's ring laced through a necklace he proudly wore, and his arm draped around her back. She had her arm around him as well, though her hand was firmly tucked into his back pocket so she could rub him. Her other swung freely, the otter trying to keep from looking at the bracelet every two seconds, and failing.

The roo grinned broadly, "Ey, it's alright. Figured you two would be going at it like rabbits." He banged his foot off the table a few times with a broad grin. "Especially with that picture you sent earlier. Didn't think you were one for sharing, Whit."

Her ears went scarlet. "I didn't..." she wheeled on Ian and venom dripped from the singular, "You."

Ian was sporting his best too-innocent look. "What? I told you what I was doing, and my phone was out of reach." He stepped around the glaring Whitney and pulled her chair out. "Should really change your pin."

She swept in close and growled into his ear. "I am going to make you pay in the best way possible." Before dropping into the seat for him. "And you," she pointed at Roger, "Delete that... and you can't just say 'fuck like rabbits', it's rude."

"It's alright," a new voice piped up, somewhat chipper and almost sing-song. A female rabbit swept in with a smile, her caramel coat almost shining in the afternoon light. "I told him he could say that, especially after I make him beg me for release." The rabbit grinned. "I'm Sheryl, and you must be Ian. Heard so much about you from these two delinquents."

He took her offered hand and shook it before taking his seat. "So you're the legendary Sheryl. Never thought I'd see someone tie Rog down."

Ears perked as she sipped her drin., "Tie him down? Well," there was a playful smile. "I'd say I didn't put a ring on it, but I have." She laughed, a rather bubbly sound, as Roger blushed all the brighter. "Though I really shouldn't tease him like that, it's too easy." Her eyes darted over them and lit up. "Ooh, what is this I see?" she changed the subject quickly.

Thankful, Rog followed her gaze. "Yoooo. You two finally decide to go all the way?" He looked from Ian's necklace to Whitney's bracelet and back. "So who got it first?"

"She did, popped the question while I was giving her breakfast."

"My dude!" Roger and Whitney high-fived over the table. "Figured you two would be late, so went ahead and ordered."

Ian grinned. "Just figured we'd be late?" He hadn't been able to stop smiling since they'd gotten dressed. Seeing Whitney with the bracelet, and feeling the weight of the ring around his neck? Did make him lament his webbed fingers.

"Well yeah, it's you two." Rog grinned, "So what are you planning today? Gym? Go back home and..." he caught a glance from Sheryl that made him clear his throat. "Relax?"