Gareth and Liam - Chapter 1
Many thanks to my friend Elle ( http://www.furaffinity.net/user/elazul/ ) who served as editor on this story. It's undoubtedly a stronger piece because of him so he deserves much of the credit there. Beyond that, this is the first in what we hope to be many in a series about the denizens of the as-yet unnamed town that this story takes place in. And what better way to begin than with a little setting and backstory leading into some delicious father/son fun? Enjoy!
On the morning before his 16th birthday, Liam lay nearly face-down into his oversized pillow, snoring out the last moments of slumber as the first rays of sunshine began creeping into his room. The warming light trickled through the blinds, up across the deep orange-colored fur on his back until it met his one visible eye. He stirred, mumbling quietly in his sleep and turned away from the light, muzzle buried snugly in his pillow. The sun's rays made their way across the shelves stuffed with books, a small bench covered with plants and other small articles, a series of clothes hangars with various coats and pants strewn lazily, and lastly, a stern-faced fur in the doorway. Gareth, the slumbering youth's father, had been watching him expectantly for a few moments but Liam remained still. Making a little face, Gareth padded over to his son's bed.
"Hey, Liam. You gotta get ready for school" his father's low voice rumbled over his head. No reaction. Gareth crouched down and leaned in close, repeating himself to make sure the boy heard him. This time, the young canid snorted quietly and took a deep breath, having awoken suddenly from his dream, and responded by clutching his pillow even tighter to his muzzle. His father was not particularly amused. "C'mon, fuzzy-butt, let's go!" he announced, grasping onto the youth's fluffy tail and side, firmly lifting his son to his knees. Liam groaned tiredly, finally releasing his grip on the pillow and looking up groggily into his father's eyes.
"Oh, please" his father said first, looking back at his son's expression. "You weren't even up that late."
"Yeah, but you don't know the dream I was having, dad" his son replied slowly, wiping the sleep crust from his eyes. "They're a lot more fun when you're sleeping."
"That may be so, but it's time to get going all the same, son. You've got important things to do today and I don't want any more late mornings, got it?" Liam knew he was right, and nodded in response. "Good. I'll have breakfast ready for you in twenty minutes, and..." Gareth trailed off for a moment, just noticing bits of broken twigs sticking out obviously in Liam's puffy chestfur. "...and you're gonna go clean that stuff off of you like you should have done after running around last night." Getting up off his haunches, the elder fur moved towards the door, swishing his tail before momentarily looking back. "You know, before going to bed." And with that, he continued through the door and down the hall, out of sight.
Liam adjusted himself on his bed, hanging his large black and white footpaws off the side, their unusual "sock"-like coloring contrasting the otherwise earth-toned fur. He yawned and stretched, trying to shake out the grogginess as best he could. His father's tone hadn't been harsh - only straightforward. "Besides," he thought to himself, "he's right anyway." He got to his feet and looked around for his morning robe, deliberately moving the scattered knick knacks on the floor out of the way as he searched. Spotting it kicked haphazardly under his bed, he crouched to retrieve it and paused, holding the handmade fabric in his paws for a moment. "That was one hell of a dream, though" he said to himself, and grinned with the memory.
After a moment, Liam emerged from the rear entrance to his house, blinking in the bright sunlight and hanging up his robe on the carved wooden pole just to the side of the door. Out back, he and his father had planted and arranged many large, leafy plants for some privacy a few summers ago, so Liam could be unclothed here without startling any passers-by. As the plants grew, they neatly wove themselves together until a thick, leafy canopy stood over fifteen feet tall. By this point, they had completely enclosed the small patch of land that made up the back yard, scarcely bigger than the house itself. Liam walked through the grass over to the special water reservoir his dad constructed up in the trees, built to catch water and enhanced with a unique soapy concoction they both would cook up every so often.
Liam stood under the wooden spout and pulled a nearby rope, releasing a burst of the tingly liquid onto his face and headfur. Just the previous year, Gareth discovered a special plant that when properly mixed, would warm the skin on contact. It was perfect for bathing, and Liam soon fell in love with the sensation and found himself missing it when he bathed away from home. Liam took his time letting the fragrant fluid warm him to his core, scrubbing through his thick pelt as the morning sun rose smoothly over the surrounding treetops.
Once all the stray particles were washed from his fur, Liam returned to the house and put on his morning robe. It was Liam's favorite article of clothing - he'd made it himself and designed the long tapered markings over the legs and torso to match his own, flowing gently up his body along with his well-developed musculature. He suddenly became aware of the smell pouring through the open back door, shaking him out of his thoughts - it was the unmistakable, savory aroma of goose-egg strata and basil. Quickly tying the robe around his waist he wiped his footpaws clean and hurried indoors, still damp and tingly from the special shower water.
The air got thicker with the rich scent as he arrived in the kitchen, finding his father's back toward him as he stood in front of the fire-place. Gareth was putting the finishing touches on the dish, puffing out a measured low-heat flame from his muzzle across the top to give it a touch of crispness. Gareth was a talented herbalist and he quickly found cooking to be to his liking as well, expanding his practice to include it after Liam's mother left when he was three. He found that his naturally-acute sense of smell worked wonders for helping make food taste just right, much in the same way it gave him advantages in telling the difference between two nearly identical plants.
Turning about to place the dish on the center of the breakfast table, he saw his nearly-dripping son standing in front of the hallway staring down the freshly-made meal. "Clean footpaws?" he asked, raising his brow.
"Yes, pop" Liam responded a little absentmindedly, moving towards the table with the same unbroken stare.
"Plates and utensils first, son" Gareth reminded him.
"Right!" Liam whirled around and gathered everything as quickly as possible, setting the table hastily as his father cut sections out of the steaming-hot dish and placed one on Liam's plate. By the time Gareth had served himself, Liam had already begun devouring his share.
"Easy, there," Gareth interrupted, "I know you're excited about your presentation today, but the sun rises no faster now than it does any other day." He stretched out a paw and planted it firmly on Liam's shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. "I made sure to wake you before it was too late. Take your time and enjoy it." Gareth smiled, nodding subtly toward his son's steaming plate.
"You're right, pops," said Liam, already slicing a much smaller bite and lifting it to his muzzle, letting the savory taste of egg and his father's specialized seasoning sink into his tongue. Yet, even at his slower pace, Liam finished his breakfast well before his father. The young fur let out a satisfied murr of appreciation and patted his toned belly, covering his muzzle from a sudden small belch. Liam got up from the table and placed his used kitchenware in the cleaning basin, peering through the large kitchen window to find the sun.
"Hey, pops?" He squinted upward, counting under his breath. Gareth turned in his seat but didn't respond, still working on a mouthful. "I think I should go get ready. Look at the sun." Liam's father tilted his head slightly and looked out the window, swallowing after a moment. Liam stepped closer and bowed, paws splayed slightly on his thighs. "May I leave the table to get dressed and gather my things?" Finished with his bite, the elder's face creased into a little smile and he nodded.
"Go on, son."
Liam gestured affirmatively with his head and stood up straight, spinning on his footpaw towards the hallway and moving hastily to his room. Closing the door behind him, he quickly rubbed out whatever remaining moisture he could into his robe and flung it onto his bed. He gathered up his school pouch and quickly checked its contents to ensure his homework was inside. Setting it aside, he reached into a box at the foot of his bed and pulled out a nice pair of shorts to wear, immediately jumping into them and buttoning up the back over his tail. Liam scanned the room for anything he might've missed and, finding nothing, cinched up the band of his pouch and hoisted it gently over his shoulder.
He hurried back down the hall, towards the kitchen and front entrance. His father was still finishing the last of his food, apparently lost in thought for the moment. Liam padded up behind him and kissed the back of his head. "I love you, dad. I'll seeya after school!" Starting toward the door, he turned back at the sound of his father's chair scooting away from the table.
Gareth padded over to his son, a certain softness in his eyes. "I love you too, my dear boy." His eyes darted momentarily to the pack slung over Liam's shoulder, and then back at his furry muzzle. "I know you'll do well. You're my son, and it's in your blood." Gareth bent slightly and planted a return kiss on his son's forehead. "I'll see you when you get back. Now, hurry and don't be late!" Grinning wide across his muzzle, Liam only nodded and continued through the door, shutting it quickly behind him and checking the sun once more. "I've got enough time," he murmured to himself as he looked up the path outside his house towards campus. In the distance, he saw a couple other young furs likely on their way to the same school. Liam leapt off the porch onto the cool grass still wet with morning dew, and jogged up the path towards the others.
Liam's classes that morning were mostly of the benign sort. Writing, history, and maths before lunch, and then next came the subject he'd spent the last month preparing for - herbalism. Today was a mid-term examination, creating a Class II potion, tincture, or cream mixture and demonstrating its effectiveness to the class. Liam's father being the specific fur he was gave him somewhat of a leg-up over his peers, but Gareth refused to lay one paw on his son's work and instead only answered questions for him. As with anything that requires complex paw-work, words will only get one so far. Liam had failed to properly handle his mixture several times, but had managed to perfect it just the night before. Now, he had only to demonstrate it to the class.
Liam arrived for class early, striding casually over to the earthen mound he favored for sitting on during class, setting his bag down next to it. He dropped roughly onto the grass and checked the three small glass dishes containing his work, making sure the lids were still tightly affixed and set them down at his feet. Finally, he fished out a small cork-sealed flask filled with water, placing it next to the rest of the items. Looking around the outdoor "classroom", Liam saw the other students begin slowly trickling in and setting up their own projects.
Potions seemed to be the most common choice, and that was no surprise. Liam knew that they were the easiest of the three to make, but he himself chose a selection of creams as he personally felt they were the most interesting. Hugging his knees to his chest, he rested his paws on his feet and waited for his best friend in the class, a chubby anthro squirrel boy named Omoro, to show up. The day was pleasantly cool, the air crisp and fresh, so he took the time to run over what he would say to the class in his head.
"Liam!" He jumped, his fur suddenly standing on end as the pudgy voice of that very squirrel suddenly punctured his thoughts. Steadying himself on the grass, he whipped his head toward his friend, coughing and shaking his head as he tried to cover for being startled. "Well geez, take a swig of your project already? Guess it didn't turn out too wel-," the squirrel paused mid-sentence as he noticed the items spread out between his friend's feet. He also noticed the mock-sour look developing on the canid's brow, causing him to laugh quietly under his breath and clear his throat, setting down his own things in the process.
Liam's expression suddenly broke into a smile, seeing what appeared to be a small tincture in the squirrel's paw as he settled his things to the side of his own mound of earth. "Hey! I thought you were were making the perfect version of your fur color potion - what's that you got there?" Omoro laughed and quickly tucked the small object away in his paw, looking over into Liam's dark, inquisitive eyes.
"Oh, I was, but I got tired of showing up to school every day as a different shade of the rainbow. One of the new custodians thought I was a sick polar bear last Monday, remember?" Liam snorted and covered his face with his paw, his body shaking as he chuckled in remembrance.
"Remember it? I had Kaiden paint a picture of it in art class for his mid-term! You look great in oils, by the way." Omoro's eyes widened but Liam waved his paw listlessly, a silly grin plastered across his muzzle. "I'm just kidding!" He leaned over and playfully punched the squirrel's immense arm. "But seriously, I just thought your fur went back to normal because you finally got your Green Morphos levels down where they should be."
"Uh, that's Blue Morphos." Omoro squinted as he carefully studied Liam's poofy orange-and-cream colored muzzle. "And c'mon, you already know that, especially what with your dad practically being practically the king of herbalism around here." Liam just wiggled his head from side-to-side, smiling wryly. "Speaking of, I'll bet your project was a breeze, huh?" Omoro continued, spinning on his rump to face the canid.
Liam shook his head. "You know my dad didn't touch my homework. Answered a few questions, sure, but that just saved me some research time." He motioned towards the set of glass containers on the grass. "I got a little carried away as it is. And speaking of..." Liam pointed his muzzle toward the paw containing the small object Omoro had pulled out of his bag earlier. "...you never did tell what it is you made."
"Et tu, buddy. Any number of horrors could be in those things you got there. Gonna fill me in too?" The squirrel started moving closer to the little dishes, trying to discern their contents through the fogged glass.
"No way, that's a surprise!' Liam declared jovially, settling his big footpaws carefully over the little glassware collection.
"Well then, you'll just have to wait for it too." replied Omoro in a faux whine. He opened his muzzle to say something else, but a new silence in the room caused both conversing furs to look to the front area. Professor Queque, a lank, leafy creature had just made her way to the front of the class. A few feet behind her stood an enormous tree, its base at least thirty feet across. The tree was a sort of symbol of the entire community, its leaves and branches shading nearly every nearby building for half a mile. Needless to say, it was Kay's (as in, Queque's shortened nickname) ideal place to teach, being so much like a plant herself. The ground here was also especially fertile, as the planters of a simple oak discovered a hundred years ago when the tree simply refused to stop growing once it reached its normal height.
Kay laid her things on a desk woven out of sturdy, malleable plants and began her short introductory lecture. Given the nature of that day's proceedings, she spoke for only a few minutes before wishing her students good luck and began to call out names in random order. Neither Liam nor Omoro were among the first bunch, so they both sat quietly through a series of (mostly) shows of potion-work by the other students. A glass bubble potion here, a smoke breath potion there ("For those of us who would even want that sort of thing!" Omoro whispered to Liam), the students so far had all come up with something that at least served its intended purpose.
Finally, Liam was up next. Winking to Omoro, he climbed to his footpaws and scooped up his work and brought it to the front. He bowed slightly to the professor and politely asked if he may lay his things on her desk and was met with a smile and welcoming hand-motion. He set down two of the dishes as well as the flask of water, and carried the remainder with him as he stood and faced the class directly in front of the immense tree. Liam was 6'2" and incredibly well-built for his age, and yet as he settled himself and shook out his headfur, he looked strangely small for a moment.
"Hello everybody," he began with a polite nod to his audience, "I'm Liam, and I decided for my project to create iridescent fur paint!" An approving murmur from the crowd. "It's very popular around here, especially for certain rituals. Let's see how it turned out, shall we?" He grinned and unscrewed the container, revealing a thick paste that shimmered slightly in the thin stands of light that punctured through the canopy above. With a slightly exaggerated flourish of his arm, he dipped two padded pawfingers deep into the mixture and scooped some out. Pausing for a moment with his paw outstretched (so the professor could briefly gauge its consistency), he pressed his covered pawtips to his fluffy, dark beige chestfur and found his collarbone.
The class (and Omoro especially) "mmm"-ed appreciatively as he spread the substance downward in a circular motion, the thick trail shining in a dazzling array of shifting colors, just as it should. The substance dried to his fur quickly and began to blend in, again just as it should, while Liam reached for more and completed the circle around the left side of his chest. He briefly flitted a look at Omoro, almost too quick to see, as he went for one more dab of the creamy substance. This time, he drew only a small circle in the middle of the larger one on his chest, directly over his covered nipple.
Some of the boys in the class began giggling at the "accidental" boob Liam had ended up with on his chest, and it only took Kay a few moments to catch on. "Liam! We're not here to watch you draw breasts on yourself!"
"What..?" Liam asked, pretending to have just then noticed the apparent faux pas. "Oh, wait, I'm not finished!" he announced with another overzealous wave of his paw, getting a touch more of the stuff and drawing what amounted to a very lopsided smiley-face that ran off the side of his muscled torso. For effect, he crossed his arms and flexed his entire upper-body, showing off his bulk and proving the product's consistency was good enough to stay where he painted it. Kay, though still wearing an expression of moderate disapproval, was obviously quite impressed with his work and urged him to continue.
Stifling a laugh, Liam procured the second of three containers and began to explain it to the class as well. "And, um, speaking of ladies, I had some base left over from the first batch of paint, so I decided to try and make something else with it. Something a little different." He unscrewed the top, this time revealing a murky, dark red substance with a number of lumps in it. Rubbing off the last of the iridescent paint between his pawfingers, Liam scooped up some of the red paste, notably thinner than the last.
This time, he didn't pause before quickly scribbling in the shape of a lightning bolt on the other side of his broad chest. Almost immediately the lumps popped and bubbled, flaring up into a brilliant array of pink and blue pinpoints of light. Putting his arms behind his head, he simply shouted, "Sparkling fur paint!" and flexed once more, twisting his torso slightly so everyone could see the various sizes and random patterns it created in his fur. "Very popular with the ladies around that 'special' season, so I hear." The other students (and not to mention the professor) once again seemed delighted , and even gave a little round of applause. He grinned, not only because his work had obviously kept well overnight (just as he'd hoped), but also because of how much fun this was turning out to be.
As time for his presentation was running short, he quickly ran back over to the desk and retrieved both the third container and the flask of water. Turning to the class again, he motioned to his now quite-ridiculous looking chest. "I made this last stuff mostly out of necessity. I figured it might be nice to be able to clean up without having to take a shower, so..." He paused, opening the final container which appeared to contain a dingy grey mixture almost thick enough to be clay. Getting a pinch in his pawtips, he slid it over the still-shining lightning bolt on his chest. As his paw passed over it, the color and light disappeared immediately and left behind only a dark streak. He repeated the procedure with the slightly-askew smiley face and continued, "...you neutralize the paint with this stuff, and then it washes right out!" Popping the cork, he emptied the flask over his chest until all that remained of the paint was a slowly dissolving puddle of grey goo at his feet.
Turning to the professor, he added, "I promise it won't hurt the grass, Kay." Facing the class a final time, he bowed politely and thanked them for their attention and patience. They applauded generously as he gathered up his things from the professor's desk and returned to his place next to the squirrel. As Liam sat down, Omoro could only offer a high-five which he was all too happy to reciprocate.
Liam sat quietly through the next set of presentations, still waiting for Omoro to be called. His head was swimming with good feelings and he opted to revel in it just a little. He hugged his knees to his chest again and felt the cool earth and soft grass between his bare toes, nodding and clapping for the presenters when appropriate. In his head spun a million thoughts. He couldn't wait to share his creations with his friends. He couldn't wait to see what Omoro had come up with. And... he couldn't wait to tell his father. Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine it. "Pop makes stuff for me every single day," he thought to himself. "Now he'll see I can give a little back."
"Omoro, you're next!"
Liam came to as he heard his friend's name called, eagerly patting his back and telling him to go for it. Omoro's presentation was rather less flashy than the canid's, but what he had created was nonetheless very impressive - a taste-changing tincture. As he demonstrated, all one needs to do is break off a small piece and sprinkle it on any food and it'll make it taste (in his specific case) rich and savory. "Its uses are many," he said at one point. "For example, getting your little brothers to shut up about eating their vegetables. Or at least, my little brothers!" Liam smiled knowingly at the comment. Not only had he been present for one of the alluded-to veggie temper tantrums, he was genuinely impressed at Omoro's skill. It's one thing to get food to change its taste, but after experiencing a sample Brussels sprout Omoro handed out, getting it to taste this good was entirely another. After concluding his speech, the squirrel danced a little jig before flopping down next to Liam, who gave him a playful whump of congratulation with his tail.
"Good job, bud." Liam whispered to him, smiling. A goofy, pleased grin was his response.
The rest of the day went about as smoothly as possible for Liam. On his way out of class, Queque shook his paw approvingly, saying she was looking forward to seeing what he could conjure next. Then on his way to the next, Liam got the expected gaggle of girls begging him to make them more sparkling fur paint in various other colors, and he promised he'd try. Even Omoro admitted he'd love to have some of the iridescent paint for an upcoming family event, to which Liam offered him the remainder from his demonstration when he came to his birthday gathering the following day. Most of all, he just wanted to get home to show his work to his father.
Finally, the school day came to an end. Almost immediately, the campus grounds flooded with students eagerly rushing home for the weekend. At the end of the day, Liam was caught up speaking with his fitness professor, so the grounds were mostly empty as he sped through the quad to get on the path home. He was still busy putting a few last things into his pouch and didn't notice the fur staring at him as he approached the well-trodden road. The busy canid tugged the pouch strings shut and slung it over his shoulder just as he got within earshot of the onlooker, who suddenly called out to him.
"Hey. You." The tone was unexpectedly chilly. Liam turned to face the voice's owner and ended up staring down the long, pointed muzzle of a slim and sharply-featured furry creature. As their eyes met, the other's ears flattened slightly as he raised his muzzle upward to look directly at Liam. Confused by the challenging stare, Liam worked his face into an odd little smile and attempted to greet the stranger.
"Hi, there. Erm, what's up?" The badger-like fur's little nose twitched, but he did not speak for a moment. Liam thought it looked like he was trying to steel himself for something.
"I... just wanted you to know..." he began haltingly, his high voice sounding strained, "...that I know all about the stunt you pulled in Kay's class." Liam looked completely perplexed, and now a little startled too. He didn't think he'd ever seen this boy before, so he studied the other fur's narrow face before speaking. His tan fur and dark brown eye markings did seem a smidge familiar.
"What... are you talking about?" He began, still trying to think.
"Your dad made you that stuff, and I'm here to make you admit it." His dark little eyes narrowed as he took a step toward Liam, pointing a long, slender claw at his chest. "Everyone else in class had to try, so the least you can do is not pretend like you're innocent." With each word that left his muzzle, he appeared to get more and more angry. Liam unconsciously leaned away from the younger fur and swallowed, unsure of how to handle the confrontation.
Deciding it wasn't worth arguing over, Liam started to turn away and said, "I'm sorry you think that, but I really need to get home." A paw shot up at blinding speed and dug deep into his chestfur with its oversized claws, halting him. Liam immediately grabbed at the other fur's wrist and gripped it tightly, his expression instantly transforming into a mask of anger. Baring his teeth, he started toward his attacker and snarled. "Don't. Touch me." The words sounded electric in Liam's ears, and he stared unblinking into the smaller fur's pupilless eyes.
The fur bared his many sharp teeth at the canid, the edges of his muzzle twitching with adrenaline. "I knew you were a cheater," he spat out, just as Liam began to lift the paw away from his chest. It barely moved an inch before rage overcame the shorter fur and he slashed furiously at Liam's body, ripping large tufts of fur out of his flesh. Liam staggered backward and dropped his school bag as he clasped a paw onto the gashes over his ribs. Fresh blood wet his pawtips, his muzzle grimacing as fiery pain spread from the thick gouges. Looking back up he saw the angry creature in mid-lunge, grappling onto him with frightening speed.
Liam's fur bristled, his instincts kicking in before his mind could. Before the invading paws could get a solid grip on him, Liam's elbow struck the side of the fur's head with a startling crack, dislodging him. The aggressor careened off of Liam's body, landing dazed and shaky onto his feet before his view smashed painfully into the grass. Breathing heavily, thin curls of smoke puffing out his nostrils, Liam kept the other's head pressed into the ground with his bloody paw while keeping the rest of him pinned with his knee. Clearing his head to speak, Liam leaned in and growled through gritted teeth, "Leave. Or I'll do worse." The struggling fur only barked aggressively so Liam pounded the smaller fur's skull into the turf, fingers tightly gripped in his head-scruff. "Leave! Don't keep trying to fight me!" he roared, the furious pitch seeming to stain the air for a moment.
Shaken and defeated, the kid went limp under Liam who paused only briefly before releasing him. As he scrambled to his feet, Liam steeled himself to retaliate if necessary, ignoring the four gashes in his chest which still bled profusely. The boy had apparently had enough, for he simply pushed himself up, shook out his pelt, and trod off away from Liam's road home. He never looked in Liam's direction again. Trembling from the adrenaline rush, Liam tried to catch his breath and looked down at himself tosurvey the damage.
Those claws had done some damage, but Liam decided it didn't look like anything to worry about for now. Much of his chest-fluff would conceal the damage once he washed it off, and he knew pop would have something to ease the pain as well. Once he watched the last of that striped brown tail disappear into the distant trees, Liam took a deep breath and knelt to pick up his dropped sack. Pain shot through his chest again as his injured flesh contorted, making him wince and clutch at it again. Liam shook it off and swiftly checked inside the pouch to see if its contents had been damaged. Finding everything more or less in its place, he carefully lifted it up over his shoulder and started down the path home.
Liam briskly wiped his footpaws clean outside his front door, eager to take care of his injuries as soon as possible. As he pushed the door open, he saw his father sitting at his work bench, nose-deep in some weeds. He'd barely padded over to the table and set down his things before his father turned around to greet him. Concern immediately flooded Gareth's features as he saw his son covered in blood, immediately dropping his work and rushing over to help. "My gods Liam, what happened?"
Liam faltered at first, still rather confused and troubled by the violent encounter. "Some boy... one of my juniors at school, attacked me on the way home." Gareth searched his son's eyes as he spoke, nodding briefly before moving on to examine the bloody remnants of the fight. Feeling the urge to elucidate, Liam continued, "Before he did this, he said he thought I cheated in Herbalism class. Ack, dad!" The elder fur had begun prodding around the area, trying to feel the extent of his son's cuts.
"You have a lot of fur here and I need to feel how bad it is." His voice rumbled softly with concern as he pressed here and there into his son's firm chest. "And besides, that's nonsense," he added flatly.
"I know, pops. He didn't even want an explanation, just an apology." As Liam spoke, he felt his father's aged pawpads pressing more gently into him, having more or less deduced the extent of his wound. There was something about the deftness and care behind his motions that swiftly disarmed Liam's worries for the moment. That's when he realized he'd been smiling the entire time.
Gareth stood once more, grumping quietly under his breath. "It looks to me like he owes you one." He clasped his paw onto his son's shoulder, catching notice of the unmistakable smile spread across his muzzle. As Liam met his father's slightly-worn eyes with his own, the mature canid tilted his head and idly scritched his chinfur. "You don't seem too bothered by it now," he remarked, unable to stop himself from returning a version of that same smile.
"Not with you here, dad" Liam said, making a little face. Gareth just shook his head and rolled his eyes playfully, leaning in to kiss the young fur's nose and fuzzle his headfur affectionately.
"Come back to my room, we'll get you cleaned up in there." Gareth stood to his full height (just a few inches taller than Liam) and led his son toward the hallway. Liam snatched his pouch from the table as he passed, still feeling that curiously pleasant sensation with his father's broad paw splayed on the small of his back. Their footfalls caused the hallway floor to creak as they passed through it, the quiet noises seeming more acute to Liam in that moment. Gareth pushed the door open to his bedroom once they reached it, golden light pouring in through the door from the handmade skylight. "So," he intoned, gently pushing his son inside, "Tell me about the rest of your day."
Liam ran to his father's tall, lengthy bed and set his school things down at the foot of it, laying back deliberately and started to go over the day's events. As he talked, Gareth gathered a small variety of plants and mixing tools and began cooking a strong healing salve over a second small work bench he kept in his room. The young fur spoke effusively, waving his arms toward the ceiling as though completely oblivious to the pain in his chest while his father worked the ingredients together in a small bowl. Finally, Gareth carried the large tree stump that served as his stool next to where his excited son lay, bringing with him the bowl of smooth-smelling paste and began working it into his paws.
Liam stopped relaying his story only when he felt his father's paws press into his injured chest, the gently-worn pads conveying an immediate absence of pain. The sensation startled Liam, partly because of how instantaneous it was and also because that same sense of care and power seemed to grow even more overwhelming, flowing freely from his father's pawtips into his body. Swallowing carefully, he looked up into Gareth's focused expression and slowly relaxed on the bed, trying to remember where he had left off. His father, meanwhile, simply held his paws in place and waited for the medicine to take its full effect, eventually making eye contact with Liam and seeing the same goofy smile stuck on his face again.
Seeing his father look toward him seemed to jog Liam's memory, so he continued where he had left off which happened to be his observation on how many potions the other students had created. As Liam spoke, he could feel his words vibrating into his father's gentle paws, and nearly yipped once Gareth began lightly massaging the last of the concoction into his chest. Liam couldn't recall anything his father had done in the past feeling quite this good, and just before he revealed to his father the first paint he made, another powerful sensation building deep in his gut, giving his next words a haughty edge.
"...iridescent paint," he finished, looking into his father's eyes. Gareth smiled proudly and nodded, heartily patting his son's side now that the salve had all been worked in. At once, Liam felt himself blushing red and silently thanked the gods for the thick orange fur covering his cheeks.
"Well, let's see it," Gareth said simply, still smiling as he looked down toward his son's footpaws and the pouch. Without thinking, Liam quickly sat up and un-cinched the pouch, noticing that the pain from his wounds had already lessened considerably. Thankfully all the glass containers had remained undamaged, having resided in one of the side pockets. He fished out the first one and opened it, outstretching his paw toward his father's muzzle so he could examine it.
Gareth looked at it only for a moment before pushing the stump away and lifting himself up onto the bed, sitting just in front of his son's paw. Gingerly, he dipped his pawtips into the container, wetting them and rubbing the substance between his fingers and thumb to feel its consistency. The corner of his muzzle curled up for a moment before he gracefully pressed his fingers onto his other arm and began drawing a glyph. Liam watched his father's carefully-measured movements and felt as if he were appreciating them for the very first time. "He's so quick!" Liam thought to himself, watching the symbol rapidly taking shape before his eyes. It wasn't one he recognized, so when his father finished and held his arm out, Liam looked a little puzzled.
Gareth noticed the expression. "It means 'Remember your Gifts', son." The way he had said "son" made the feeling in Liam's gut intensify, his breathing becoming slightly restricted. He knew what, or rather who, his father had been thinking of as he painted it. Liam let down his paw and scooted closer to his father on his knees and was suddenly overtaken by his parent's muscular arms. They lifted him off the bed and set him sideways over the larger canid's lap before completely enveloping him in a warm embrace of fur, muscle, and love.
"D-daaad!" Liam cried out, laughing a little as he instinctively tried to return the embrace. Gareth's aged chestfur ended up pressing against the side of Liam's muzzle, who had just managed to get one arm around his father's waist and simply dug his other paw into the elder's similarly-thick chest fluff. For a moment, all Liam focused on was the clear, steady pounding of his father's heartbeat radiating through his pawpads. They held onto each other for many intense moments, a lump in Liam's throat preventing him from speaking and Gareth simply content to hold his son dearly to him, inadvertently smearing the not-yet dried calligraphy between them.
Something about the way things had happened, the way his father's capable arms felt around him, the particular twinge of strong masculine scent emanating from their bodies, and the ever-increasing pressure in his gut completely took over Liam's senses. Without thinking, he pulled himself up to the mature canid's muzzle and pressed his own to it, beginning a deep kiss. In hindsight, Liam wasn't quite sure where he intended to have made the gesture, but now that he'd locked muzzles with his father there was no going back. Gareth's eyes shot open, his grip tightening around the boy, but made no effort to push his son away. Rather, having apparently been overcome by the same force, he waited but a moment and pushed his muzzle back into his son's, eyes closing passionately as he let his own feelings defeat any logical objections. Allowing his muzzle to part, he sent his broad tongue flitting against his son's closed mouth, twisting his muzzle gently against it.
The pressure deep in the young fur's stomach snapped, and began flooding directly into his loins, the loose-fitting shorts clasped around his waist becoming far too tight, far too quickly. Liam's breath came in hot, staccato puffs against his father's snout as a wave of hormones washed over him. Gareth's heart beat ever-quicker under his son's paw, which now clenched passionately into the cream-colored fluff. Liam's muzzle opened to accept his father's probing tongue, his own inexperienced one batting at it uncertainly as both furs rumbled out a deep murr into eachother's maws.
Four paws began fumbling at the bodies held in their loving embrace, Liam's gentle and exploratory, Gareth's strong and precise. Before long, Liam was forced to adjust himself to where he straddled his father's legs, blushing furiously as he felt his trapped erection slipping free of its sheath and pressing against the inside of his shorts, the obvious bulge bumping into the adult canid's toned tummy. He yipped pleasurably and jumped, breaking the kiss and letting his weight fall to his father's lap where he discovered a similarly-sized bulge tenting Gareth's work trousers.
Panting and gasping quietly, Liam fumbled to speak. "Um, dad...! I.. I was.. I just.." was all he could manage before two large, capable paws rested on his shoulders, squeezing affectionately. His father's expression toward him was gentle, gazing deep into Liam's dark, questioning eyes.
"My beautiful son..." Gareth huffed, barely above a whisper, sliding his paws centerward over Liam's shoulders. They looked at one another for a long moment before Gareth slowly leaned his muzzle back toward his son's, this time only rubbing noses with the panting, horny youth. "I... think I understand, dear boy," he rumbled comfortingly, the unusual pause in his speech sticking out to Liam's ears.
"Y-you do?" Liam stammered, pushing back against his father's nuzzle, their nearly-twin bulges occasionally nudging one another, causing little grunts to escape from each fur's throat from the contact. The big canid smiled, subtly pulling Liam closer and urging his legs around his waist. Liam obliged, footpaws sliding over the covers behind his father's rump and clenching in pleasure as his crotch ground fully into the bigger male's, now completely unable to avoid it.
Gareth licked the side of his son's muzzle, carefully grooming him for a moment before responding. "You're fast becoming a mature adult, and we share a bond unlike any other. And, frankly.." his grizzled face creased into another warm smile. "...I had almost begun to wonder if you were developing these feelings at all." Liam shot him a playfully-irritated look, forgetting for a moment where he was.
"Of course I have! It's not like-" his voice was cut off as a distracted moan escaped his muzzle, a result of his father's large paws having found their way on top of the bulge in his shorts, their powerful weight causing intense, unfamiliar pleasure to flow throughout Liam's body. Forgetting what he was going to say, he took a moment to look down at his father's paws, then back up to his face, and opened his muzzle to speak one more time.
"Please," he whispered, "Open it, daddy."
The words had hardly left his muzzle ("Daddy?" Liam's mind asked itself) before Gareth had undone his son's shorts, the thick, eight-inch length immediately pressing into his father's stomach as it was freed. The black-skinned length slid upward on Gareth's tummy, leaving a sticky trail of his potent preseed in its wake. It throbbed hotly against the slightly-coarser fur a moment before Gareth gingerly wrapped both his paws around the entire length of it. Liam's toes gripped the sheets tightly as his first sensations of genuine sexual contact tore through him, bracing himself on his father's body as he began to hump upward into the paws that held him.
Gareth chuckled quietly at his son's enthusiasm, but as his own length uncomfortably begged to be released, he was forced to set the young pup on the covers to free himself. Liam hastily kicked off his shorts and made sure to move his school things off to the floor, not wanting them to get in the way. Gareth, meanwhile, stood and removed his only article of clothing in one smooth motion and climbed next to his son, showing off his own impressive and similarly-colored length. Liam crawled forward to examine his father's sizable erection, its owner thrusting it forward gently until it bumped into Liam's nose.
The musk in the room was now completely intoxicating to both randy furs, completely eliminating any sense of unease either of them felt. Liam eagerly began to explore the first cock besides his own he'd ever seen. His father's neatly-trimmed sheath sat snugly beneath a large puff of off-white crotchfur, much like his own. The long, ebony length jutted straight out from his body, a slight bend in the middle resulting in the pre-slick tip pointing proudly upward, wobbling with every strong beat of the fur's pounding heart. Everything about it and the rest of him, Liam felt, was a vision of masculinity, of absolute maleness.
Liam's searching paws first landed on either side of the pulsing member, Gareth simply holding himself steady and murring responsively as he watched his son discover his most private area. Liam slid his thumbs along his father's wide underchannel, working his way back to the oblong-shaped testicles that hung freely between his powerful legs. As his pawtips first met the large orbs, Gareth uncontrollably groaned appreciatively, spreading his legs a little more. From the way he reacted, Liam wondered just exactly how long it had been since anyone had touched him. He suddenly felt proud of himself, thinking about how special it was for his father's next time to end up being with him, here and now.
Liam carefully moved even closer, cupping his father's sizable balls in both paws, feeling their heft resting against his pawpads. Literally everything about this fur, he came to see, was so eerily similar to himself, and that realization gave Liam an idea. Still massaging those low-hanging orbs, he moved his other paw over to push the dark length against his cheekfur, happily murring and nuzzling against it as he took in more of his father's rich scent through his overstimulated nose. And then, after just one more delicious moment, his other paw left those heavy balls and now encircled the base of the hot length so near his muzzle, right where it jutted free of the fuzzy sheath.
Applying a little pressure, Liam tugged the sheath up the base of his father's cock as far as it would go. At the first tug, Gareth's legs wobbled and he was forced to put his paws onto his son to steady himself, grunting in surprise from how good it felt. Liam never lost a beat, starting up a firm rhythm of short strokes over the thick, veiny base, the first hints of his father's swelling knot beginning to form. Liam knew from his own experiences how intensely pleasureful it felt, and the huffing and grunting coming from Gareth's visibly-lusty muzzle told him his father worked the same way. It wasn't long before the mature canid's knot had swelled to a point where further tugs were impossible, so Liam released the sheath and instead worked his paws over that impressive ball of flesh he'd encouraged to form.
Liam's youth was on full display as his own immature knot had nearly fully formed without any stimulation for minutes, drizzling a gooey river of precum onto his legfur, sitting the way he was. Gareth had contented himself to simply rubbing his son's headfur and ears up 'till then, and when Liam's motions paused for a moment to try something else, the older fur stopped him. "Wait," he murrumbled, smoothly pushing his son down onto his back, "let me take it from here, boy."
Liam's head swam with a million intense feelings as he followed his father's lead, nodding and laying back with his legs spread wide as he idly poked and squeezed at his tensely-knotted cock. Gareth kneel-walked between Liam's legs, stopping only when his legs brushed up against the underside of his son's spread thighs. Gareth looked over his son's well-proportioned, naked body and churred loudly, shaking his fluffy chestfur with its vibrations. Then, in one smooth motion, he lifted both Liam's knees and angled his hips down to press his mushroom-shaped cockhead directly onto the base of Liam's cock, thrusting past his scrunched-up sheath and up along the knotted shaft.
The young fur cried out suddenly, scrunching his eyes shut and gasping excitedly at the feeling, overwhelmed by his father's smooth thrust over his pleasure spot. Gareth could feel the muscles in Liam's legs tensing in his paws as those footpaws curled intensely and rhythmically, settling himself to repeat the motion all along his son's cock. His hips worked sure and true, grinding his thick cockhead through space between his son's tightening nutsac, then to the base of his sheath, and then gliding off the fist-sized knot that visibly throbbed with each stroke.
Liam could barely interpret all the sensations separately from one another, grunting and crying out as they spread through his body faster and faster. Gareth knew exactly what he was doing, humping and grinding his entire member over his son's, pulling back only once his balls lay across Liam's and naturally increasing in speed as his libido climbed higher. Haughtily, his voice strained with effort, he grunted out to his son, "I want you to cum for me, son. Cum for poppa."
Liam could scarcely prevent himself from doing so as it was. Rich precum flowed freely onto his stomach, the muscles standing out clearly and creating thick rivulets that shook with each thrust of his father's hips. On a whim, the elder canid lifted one of Liam's legs, bringing the tensed-up footpaw to his muzzle and dug his nose under the clenched toes, giving the sole a passionate kiss, nuzzling and licking at the wet spot he made. It was too much for Liam and his muscles tensed as hard as they could, unable to hold back any longer.
The smaller canid's balls churned, pulled tight around the base of his sheath as the flow of precum wetting his belly turned thick and white, drooling out a thick glob a moment before the powerful contractions started. "G-gods!" Liam groaned out, his legs kicking down hard in his father's paws as he began to cum, each burst painting hot, white lines of canid spunk onto his chest and muzzle. Gareth quickly changed his motions, jabbing his cock's thick crown into the pulsing underchannel of his orgasming offspring, feeling each new expulsion of teenage sperm as it fired through.
Gareth, despite all his years of practice and control, had still only just managed to keep from cumming first. When he saw his son's muzzle frozen open in sexual bliss, and one powerful jet of spunk land on his tongue, he lost all restraint. He pressed his nose roughly into Liam's spasming footpaw, uncontrollably lapping at it as his first musky load of seed spat audibly onto Liam's pulsing ballsack. "Liam!" he uttered lustily, muffled by the oversized footpaw, as his hips jerked forward and came a second time, covering his son's obsidian cock meat with pearly-white ejaculate.
They both grunted out the remainder of their peaks, Gareth's groin white and sticky with his own seed as he humped through and over his son's privates, Liam simply letting the pleasure wash over him, pushing his padded footpaw against his father's face. Soon, the only audible noise was of Gareth's fervent making out with the footpaw pressed into his snout and the wet, sticky sounds of his spent shaft gliding through a river of his own sperm that covered his son's cock. At last, the older fur's stamina waned, so he let the other leg in his paws drop to the bed as he playfully nuzzled the one in front of him. At last, he he lowered it slightly to kiss the twitching digits and curl his tongue between them, savoring the surprisingly clean flavor, and gently let it down on the bed.
As focus returned to his eyes, Gareth surveyed the mess they'd made. Almost immediately, he began laughing - hard. Liam's entire front was absolutely covered in two generations of Vanderholt seed, and the spent fur had clearly not yet recovered from the experience. His chest rose and fell quickly as he needfully drew in oxygen, his cum-stained tongue sticking out carelessly. Gareth covered his muzzle as his laugh turned into a chuckle and patted the exhausted young fur's side, carefully stepping over his body and back onto the floor.
Liam finally stirred, turning his head toward his father and smiled tiredly. He started trying to get up and found his muscles more unresponsive than they'd been in a long time. Falling back, he instead opted to look down at himself, lolling his muzzle lazily downward. Puddles of semen had gathered and stuck together his fur everywhere he looked, and and his knot hadn't even begun to deflate so his fat length still bobbed over his tummy in rhythm with his heartbeat. He watched it for a few moments, tensing it and watching it flop around a little in response, giggling quietly to himself at the dumb little exercise. Gareth followed his son's eyes and shook his head, snorting a little.
Leaning over the boy, he said, "It's time to get you cleaned up, silly pup." With that, he gathered him up under the legs and shoulders and lifted him easily off the covers. Liam almost wanted to protest, but something about that particular moment made a little childhood regression feel normal. Gareth settled Liam in his arms, letting his son's rump brush against his still-hard member a couple times before he turned around and carefully made his way out of the room to the private back yard. As he padded under the overhead water spout, he gave Liam's body a little squeeze and kissed him on the cheek.
"My beautiful son."
Gareth let Liam down gently, the young pup still a little wobbly so he reached out to hold onto his father for support. At once, the special warming spring water flowed down over his head and streamed down his front, already beginning to loosen the semen and dried blood from his coat. Together, they washed all of eachother's bodies, still getting used to being able to touch all of the other fur without inhibition. Liam's private area needed the most work, and his father relished in getting another opportunity to run his paws over all of his son. And, almost like a mirror image of that morning, the sun set gracefully through the trees over the bathing furs, amber rays pouring through the branches until nightfall was upon them.
As the crickets and other night creatures began to perform their nightly rituals, the pair of tired furs dried off and returned to Gareth's room. Never bothering to put on their clothes again, Liam hopped up on the bed again, swinging his footpaws off the side while Gareth started putting up the nighttime window blinds. Once the room was sufficiently darkened, Liam's father climbed up on the bed beside his son and pulled him into an enveloping, warm embrace. Before long, they both laid on their sides and talked in hushed tones, the only other sound a soft rasping from pawpads gently running through fur. As the nighttime ambiance began to fill the room, two voices became one, and one gave way to nothing, their breathing synchronized as slumber finally relieved them of their senses.