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Gentlemen's Agreement

By: Rufus Quentin

For: SilverRat

As Rex lay in bed, awakening from too short and uncomfortable a sleep, he couldn't help but recall that weird short story they made him read in Freshman Seminar. He couldn't remember the name of the story or the guy who wrote it, but It had something to do with some dude by the name of Gregor Samsa, an odd detail he managed to retain, who wakes up turned into a bug. That was about as far as he read, the rest creeped him out too much. He remembered making the argument in class that the story was a metaphor for alcoholism, or some sort of substance abuse, and that the character, vis-à-vis, the author had just been "hung over". The professor didn't really buy the argument, but Rex still felt convinced that the character, the narrator, or the author, or whoever's voice it was, had to have been on something. Either way he could empathize with that Gregor Samsa guy, the same way he could every time he woke up hung over. This time wasn't the worst hang-over he ever had, but he still felt as if he'd been transformed into some monstrous and nameless vermin rolling around on its back on the top bunk in his dorm room, one with a railroad tie surgically implanted in its cranium.

From the moment he woke up, he knew it actually happened. He fooled around with his roommate last night and had the cum stains to prove it. He lay there naked, a little too sore and as a result a little too indifferent to do anything about it. The fur around his sheath and on his foot-paws was matted and stiff, and he knew exactly why. The sun was up, but he didn't know what time it was. He had no idea if Nate still slept, and dared not move on the off chance he was awake. He badly, badly wanted a shower.

The idiom "To make matters worse" seemed misapplied when it came to the fact that probably sooner than later he had to be up getting ready for that game against St. Thomas. Though he didn't exactly look forward to further purgatorying his body any time soon, that was hardly the worst matter. At least he didn't have to puke, but the fact that he wore Nate's jizz didn't exactly settle his stomach.

Eventually the door swung open, confirming the fact that Nate was awake, and that that it was far later than he realized, either way setting the switches for an awkward interaction. The jackrabbit, wearing nothing but a towel, entered the room. He banged the wooden post of the bunk bed with his fist, the same way he always did when Rex overslept. "Gotta get up," he said, as if nothing happened the night before.

Rex leaned over the edge of his bunk, catching a glimpse of Nate dropping his towel with a casualness as if this were a locker room, or worse, as if they were established mates. He'd seen the jackrabbit's butt before, but after last night's vivid performance, this display had nothing locker room about it. Yet he didn't really bother peeling his eyes away from those twin cheeks and that single tufted tail, either. "What time is it," Rex asked, licking his teeth to combat a case of dry mouth.

"8:30," said Nate, slipping on a fresh shirt before even reaching for boxers.

"Can ya' hand me my underwear?" Rex asked in a hushed tone, reminded of a time he played keep away with a one-night-stand over an equivalent clothing article, and instantly realized that was probably a douchebag move. Thankfully Nate interrupted his task and bent over, retrieving Rex's used trunks and sling-shotting them to the top bunk without an argument. Rex quickly slipped them up his legs, feeling a bit less vulnerable as the band snapped around his waist, putting at least some of the evidence of last night out of sight, but not out of mind.

Rex collapsed back onto his mattress, psyching himself up for the trip out of bed, and prioritizing what should come first, hygiene or hydration. He listened to Nate getting dressed and only moved once he felt certain that there would be no more surprise nudity. He achingly descended the ladder and stumbled onto the floor, sighing in a combination of soreness and aversion, feeling fur stiffly prickle between his toes and against his paw-pads.

"You need to hurry," Nate said, who since moved to his computer, browsing whatever at his desk.

Rex groaned in agreement, retrieving a bottle of sports drink from his mini-fridge. The feeling of the cool, sweet liquid pouring down his throat made him feel a percentage better, but it also fully brought him into the world and made him realize that at some point he'd have to deal with the consequences of last night. Did this warrant a talk, he asked himself, or should he just let this one slip into the archive of bad decisions and never speak of it again? This was a little bit different than bringing home a big girl, or someone else's girlfriend. Then there was the creeping realization that it wasn't all that bad, and that he, headache and nausea aside, didn't feel all that different from the morning before.

"Nate," Rex said. "About last night."

"I know. I was really freaking drunk. I'm sorry. Let's just put that behind us and carry on," the jackrabbit said in a monotone voice, not tearing his gaze away from his screen.

"Fair enough," Rex replied, finding it difficult to make eye contact. He reached for his towel and made his way to the co-ed showers. He wore his towel high around his waist to cover up some of the matted fur, and hoped he wouldn't run into anyone on the floor, or that he wouldn't leave too incriminating a scent trail. Luckily he managed to avoid anyone and washed away most of the evidence before someone else joined him in the adjacent shower stall.

He started feeling better after about three coats of body wash. Even his headache started going away. He leaned against the tile wall in his little shower booth and let the hot water peel down his fur. Something about long warm showers made them the perfect hang-over cure, as well as the treatment for debatable sexual decisions. Nate wasn't so bad. At least he was good-looking, objectively speaking of course. He liked the runner's body, the long torso, the strong legs, those large lapine foot-paws perfect for sinking into the dirt and making tracks. And damn, did he do a good job of giving head. Of course he should never think about it again. It actually felt pretty exciting, so wrong, so taboo, but fuck, when was the last time he'd gotten off so hard?

Rex opened his eyes to find himself erect as hell again. "Damn it," he whispered, glad a thick vinyl curtain shielded him from being spotted, and glad most of his dirty thoughts were kept to himself. Still, getting a hard-on was a very bad sign, especially when he had to share a locker room with the entire team in a good two hours. If this popped up again, fuck. The decision to take care of it fell easy. The shower was a safe enough place to paw it, having become the regular spot for him to shed his excess libido when Nate was in the room.

He started to stroke himself, letting the rain of warm water aid in the pleasure of it. He tried to usher his thoughts away from the night before, to equally hazy and sometimes drunken romps with that semester's girlfriends, but somehow his fantasies careened out of control to porn, to the video from last night featuring that one dalmatian with a penchant for creampies, to the real life images of Nate's muzzle in his lap, and finally to the jackrabbit's throbbing cock between his foot-paws. Rex chastised himself every time his imagination full-circled to the blurry memories of warm rabbit muzzle around him and the scent of cum, but somehow his arousal remained unaffected by those digressions.

In the end, whether by choice or not, that became the fantasy he settled on as he edged himself to the plateau. His paw vigorously traveled his length, mimicking the feeling of the jackrabbit's tongue. He closed his eyes, visualizing Nate with him in the shower stall with his brown fur wet and dripping, bobbing along his length with the same enthusiasm he demonstrated for it the night before. Maybe, just maybe, the jackrabbit would be pawing himself off too, shooting his cum all over his paws. That did it. Rex bucked forward through his clenched paws and started throbbing. The hare sent his seed shooting forth into the imaginary rabbit's muzzle. In reality his sperm just arched and splattered over the floor tiles, swept down the drain by the continuous current of water.

Getting off again helped Rex feel physically better, even if it made his conscience worse, aware that what happened wasn't one of those things that he could easily shrug away. It had become a part of him now, like it or not. After an unusually long shower he walked back to the room, towel wrapped along his waist and his headache gone save for a dull throb. Nate seemed to have left in the meanwhile. A look at his alarm clock made him curse the decision to paw again. He quickly got dressed, popped two Advil with the remainder of sports drink, and shouldered his bag all as if in one fluid gesture. He made the race to the field his warm-up.

Luckily it was one of those days a persistent marine layer set in, the caliber of which meant it wouldn't really get bright out all day, and assured that everything would stay bathed in some foggy, dream-like light. Practice had already begun by the time he arrived and as a result, he had to endure a verbal battering from his coach for coming late, yet again. Nate was there, wrapping up his laps seemingly unaffected by yesterday's combination of beer, whiskey, and sperm. They made eye contact for the first time since "that event" across the field, a glance immediately regretted. Practice wrapped up uneventfully, even though Rex had a hard time getting into it, and drained most of his energy before the game even began.

The team from St. Thomas arrived on time, as did a few spectators. Soccer never really attracted the crowds like football or basketball could. There would be no cheerleaders, and the best media coverage they could expect was probably some journalism major from the school paper that drew the short straw, or disappointed the editor one too many times.

The game began after a dirge-like pledge of allegiance and unenthusiastic shaking of paws. Pennants were exchanged and the coin tossed, winning the ball for his team to start with. It took Rex about twenty minutes to get into the game enough to play pretty close to his normal ability. He had to endure a few embarrassing missed passes, got caught off sides, and faceplanted for no particular reason, the type of behavior that caused his team to narrowly miss an early lead. Nate wasn't faring that much better, but in the 40th minute he still managed to assist on his team's first goal and lead. It quickly became clear that the on-field chemistry that made him and Nate a feared or at least respected duo of wingbacks seemed absent for the duration of the game, much to the frustration of the coach. Rex made it through the half-time but coach substituted him in the 70th minute, something he rarely did to him or Nate. More through luck than skill Nate and the rest of the team managed to maintain their narrow lead, all the way through to the sloppy last ten minutes of the game.

"Fucking pussies," Gabe, the Brazilian born leopard and B-teamer said to him as he caught his breath while getting to work warming the bench. "We should be leading St. Thomas four to nil right now. Look at those faggots running around out there. Maybe if they wouldn't pound themselves in the ass before every game, they might be able to kick straight."

Being what they called a "millennial," Rex didn't have much sympathy for homophobic turns of phrase, and that was on a good day. Though he'd used the word pretty frequently back in his tween years, back when all matter of insults were fair game in exerting school-yard dominance. By high school, thanks to the influence of some progressively minded girlfriend, the word left his vocabulary entirely. Now the term "faggot" seemed to have a very dated quality to it, it still meant what it meant, but it sounded more like one of those old-timey swear words his grandfather used to belittle people he didn't agree with on the television set. Even though that whole gay thing seemed a bit weird, and up until yesterday very distant, hearing the term used by one of his peers in close to its original context struck oddly close to home and came across all the more grating. He could almost feel a mental fuse burn out.

"What you say?" Rex stood up, his fists involuntarily balling, a fury building the likes of which terrified him. The fur on his neck and back began to bristle. He could feel the claws on his feet and paws, dull as they were, unfurl themselves for action. Whiskers twitched, lifting his cheek and flashing white lapine incisors, implying a willingness to use them. Ears towered over the leopard, who still sat there, his expression turning into a look of surprised confusion. Whatever he got into last night probably didn't make him gay, he hoped, though it raised some suspicions about his roommate who gave head a little too readily and too well for Rex to call it an accident. He knew quite well that Nate wasn't a bad person, even if he was gay, or a faggot, to borrow the leopard's term. The word burnt more personal than usual, now that Rex had at least a toe in the direction it aimed to condemn, saying nothing for his roommate and possible best friend on campus, who still ran across the field playing more competently than he.

"What?" said the leopard, infuriatingly oblivious to his transgression.

"Cool it Heinemann," the coach said, taking note of the brewing altercation. "You're gonna want to sit down now. You know the code of conduct."

"Sorry," Rex said. "Been playing like shit today. More angry at myself than anyone else."

"I can see that. Next weekend you better not come in hung over and late. One more fuck-up and don't bother showing up at all."

Rex sat down, the fur on his neck subsiding and his ears resuming their half-droop. "Sorry," he repeated to the leopard, who clearly had no idea what just happened. "You really got to stop saying faggot. I've got a friend who's gay and it bothers me."

"What? Ohh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way."

"It's cool," Rex said, still feeling the bite of the word curiously strong. "Just a poor word choice. But yea. We suck today. Look at Michalski out there. Can't do shit. And Rodriguez, fucker needs to try to not hand the ball over to the opposite team. The only one carrying his on weight out there is the goalie, and I still think he's half asleep."

The leopard chuckled, albeit with a tinge of nervousness. "Yea man," he agreed, turning his attention back at the game, just as five minutes of overtime was announced. "Fuck," he concluded.

Fortunately overtime ran as lackluster as the rest of the second half. They pulled off a meager one-nil which didn't feel like victory to take pride in. Had it been any other team and they would have been slaughtered. St. Thomas was supposed to be one of those easy teams full of choir-boy papists who you could easily rack up points on, which would have been valuable had they made it to the state championship. Instead, FUBAR. Missed opportunities galore, for both sides.

Rex padded home alone, following the so-called walk off shame he stumbled down drunk a little over twelve hours prior, having chosen to avoid the possibly awkward shower and locker-room session. The leopard's comment still rang in his ears, stinging as if knowingly, and maliciously plucked from a vast pantheon of good insults to burn him like no other word could. It felt as if the word applied directly to him, as if it branded a six letter mark into his flesh, legible for all to see haloed in an outline of singed fur. Perhaps it did apply to him. He let himself do something he shouldn't. Perhaps he was one of them now. Is that why he felt so mad? Would the comment even have bothered him if he landed one of those girls last night, or just kept from pawing off. Would he have just laughed and reiterated, "Yea, that faggot from the other team needs to choke on a choad." Probably.

The circular track of thinking and self-deprecation followed him for the rest of the day and into the next week. He avoided Nate, preferring instead the seclusion of one of the basement study rooms for every available moment. He went AWOL on facebook, cloistered himself with his in-box of tardy assignments, and simply sank into the part hype-focused, part mindless slaughter of Call of Duty. Sometime, probably a week later, he blipped back onto the social network grid. He realized at some point that no rumor mill chewed the cud of what happened in 315 Sherborne Hall on the night of the 20th. He didn't feel like prancing out in rainbows and assless chaps, nor did a horde of pitch-fork wielding puritans bang at the door with threats of violence in the name of Christ. Everyone treated him the same, and most surprisingly, he felt the same. With an eventual shrug he dismissed what happened to the pile of sexual mistakes, and in the great scheme of things, getting a little bit of head from a guy ranked pretty low on his list of regrets. It certainly could have been worse.

He spoke with Nate again on the week anniversary of "that night," not about what happened, but about soccer. Both rabbits unanimously decided to watch the game Borussia Dortmund versus Arsenal game, though Nate, perhaps in spirit of reconciliation, offered to go to the Theta Kai party. Sure, there would have been women there, Rex agreed, but Theta's reputation for dull parties, poor music, and attracting less than comely women made the game seem more interesting. Rex failed to mention to feeling of trepidation brewing at the thought of going out again, only to return empty-pawed to the same conditions that allowed "it" to happen. It turned out the trepidation persisted anyway. They sat, amiably enough, in the exact same spot where things turned weird. This time Nate's laptop streamed soccer in from some European time-zone with some accented voice doing the announcing. Rex considered himself a subscriber to the masculine technique of communicating through interpersonal conflicts, by pretending they never existed. When that method failed, one could always discuss the matter through an estranged example in a typical male fashion.

"I think Svankmeijer made a mistake in joining Borussia." Rex said.

"Why do you think that?"

"Do you see how he's acting? He looks really uncomfortable out there. Should'a stayed with Hertha."

"I think he's handling it quite well. He's getting more field time with Dortmund anyway, and a hell of a lot more passes. Yea, he's got some confidence issues, but those will be resolved as soon as he gets to know his team, and finds his niche in the new dynamic."

"If you say so, but I think there's a lot more going on than him getting used to new turf. You see right there? Passed over and out of his league. It's not that he's not a competent player; he is, look at his record. He led in assists for the last two years, and has a respectable number of career goals, including international matches. He'd be able to carry on that record if he stayed where he was. Maybe he'd be able to handle Bayern, they are consistently strong, but Dortmund, no way, too different a coach and culture."

"He's in a better league now. Herta is going nowhere, they're practically second tier. If he kept with them he'd be out of the Bundesliga altogether in a few years, playing for some sorry old recreational league. I'm telling you, all he needs is confidence and he'll fit right in."

"What about his detractors? A lot of people are critical of the move."

"Who?"

"The media."

"What media?"

"I read some article about it. Plus don't you hear it in the announcer's voice? Every time Svankmeijer's in command of the ball, the guy brings up some old fact critical of him. It's like they don't want him there."

"He's English, of course he's going to badmouth Dortmund. Especially after what happened back in '10. You're paranoid."

"I'm paranoid?"

"Yea! Shut up and deal with it. Svankmeijer is a competent player who did well in Herta, but, like it or not, he plays for Dortmund now. And he does a pretty good job of it. Look at that passing sequence from five minutes ago. If he were just two steps ahead, it would have turned into a goal. Case in point, if he just trusted in his new team a little more, he'd be an awesome player. National team caliber. Oh, and nice footwork last week. Had only seen that in videos, didn't think it would work so well in person."

"Wait, what?"

"I always figured they were just acting, didn't expect to actually get off with it so quick."

Rex blinked at Nate, his mouth opened, but he just sat there at a loss for words.

"What?" Nate said, turning back to the game. "Just saying, I'll have to remember that little maneuver."

Rex watched Nate resting back nonchalantly and scrambled to find which reaction to toss his way. The lining of his long ears reddened in a combination of anger and powerlessness. The guy he sat next to was the only one on earth who knew the full extent of what happened seven days earlier, including the details concerning the full on participation of one said bunny. Had he been just a little more hot-headed a little bit of violence would have been appropriate, but no, having recently ceased being a teenager and knowing the damage the jackrabbit's knowledge could inflict made him shrink back into his seat.

"Wouldn't mind to try it again to be honest," Nate stated.

"And if I don't comply?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're not going to blackmail me are you?" said Rex, a genuine doe-eyed fear making the hare appear like a diminutive version of himself, too timid for even a little girl's tea-party.

"A lot of good that would do. I don't think enough people care to make it worth my while. I'm just saying cuz you're obviously having a hard time processing what happened. I hoped we didn't need to, but it looks like we gotta talk."

"What happened?"

"I got a little drunk and got carried away. Normally I only give head to guys I feel a connection with."

"Are you?"

"Gay? No. You've walked in on me often enough to know better."

"What the fuck? I'm confused."

"Labels don't really work for me. You know? If you need one, you can call me bi, I guess, but to me that sounds like an exaggeration."

"But you've slept with guys?"

"Never gone that far. I've given head before, mostly to a few guys back in high school, but that's pretty much the extent of it. I do kinda like it, especially if it's on my terms, then again I have an oral fixation in all regards."

"Doesn't that still make you gay? You know, if you want to?"

"No."

"Fuck."

"See, this is why talking about it is pointless. I knew you wouldn't understand. Sorry I dragged you into this."

"Na, It's cool man. I respect you. It's not like I think there's anything wrong with it. It's just a bit of a surprise."

"Good! And finally, gold star for you! I respect you too. There. Now tell me, I'm asking because I'm curious. Was it really that bad?"

The hare felt his ears flush again, this time with a rather acute warmth stemming from the well-targeted question. Rex shrugged. "Well, let's put it this way. If you were a girl, I'd have begged for your number."

"It's a good thing you won't need to call me then."

"What do you mean?"

"Okay. I got a proposition for you. This dry spell we're in is kinda affecting me too, and it's not just because I have to listen to you complain about how blue your balls are every fucking weekend. In truth I had a lot of fun last Friday, save for the hangover. It kind of reminded me what I was missing in just focusing on women. I'm willing to break my cardinal rule of only fooling around with people I want to be with in the long run. It can be whatever you want. Oral, some pawing, or that interesting maneuver you taught me last week. I've never really been one for more than that, but I'm willing to try it at least once. What do you say?"

Rex stared lop eared at the jackrabbit on the other end of the bed. A reply wasn't anywhere in his vocabulary. Since fight never came across as a good enough option, flight began to seem appropriate, if only gravity were on his side. He felt his own weight fetter him to the sheets, and his body stiffened as if petrified, including that little part of himself he really wished wouldn't. That telling stir within his sheath, the one he felt pretty sure Nate couldn't see or sense, informed him at least, and quite clearly for that matter, that that part of himself he'd sought to shutter all week did indeed exist. Nate's proposition, he felt loath to admit, didn't come across as all that daft.

"You don't have to answer me now, or ever. Oh look, Arsenal scored." Nate said, directing his attention back at the screen that had gone ignored in the last few yet crucial minutes of playtime, and in doing so changing the subject.

Rex focused on the computer more or less dumbfounded, biding his time with his renewed attention to gameplay, or at least pretending that the game did in fact absorb his attention. In truth he could hardly follow the figures running up and down the screen. The fact that his preferred team was tied in the fourth quarter of the game only added to his anxiety. Nate would probably want an answer by the end of the game, or at least so he feared. The chance of overtime was real, but that would only buy him circa another thirty minutes plus breaks, and even if the game went to penalty kicks, which he would normally dread, the time would come when he would have to make up his mind. He realized then and there the fact that he had not automatically decided on the sanest response didn't bode well for the way he would eventually sway.

Arsenal's goal in the eighty-first minute came with mixed emotions. On one side his team led by a point, on the other it practically eliminated the chance of overtime, given the German's tendency to panic and fall into disorganization when behind in the final moments of a game. That knowledge didn't abate the nail-biting and gnashing of teeth, the root cause of such was the am I, am I not obsession resurgent from the past seven days. The ref awarded him three more painful minutes of overtime, the quickest three in the history of soccer, and then it was decided.

"Okay," Rex said no sooner did the deciding whistle blow, anticipating Nate's follow-up question.

"Okay what?"

"Okay, I'll do it."

"That was fast."

Rex felt that rush of warmth again, the rush of embarrassment. He agreed to something he knew he shouldn't have. Something he couldn't predict the scope of, though something certainly same-sex, Yet the words could never be unsaid.

"I didn't really expect you to get back to me that fast, or even in the affirmative. I hate to amend my offer, but I'm saying that, well, if we strike out at a party, we just take care of things like last time. Worked out for both of us didn't it?" Nate said, watching the game coverage transition to post-game analysis without a hint of eye contact. "I don't know if I'm always going to be in the mood for it."

"Definitely, definitely," Rex stammered, nodding in instant agreement. "We can only do anything as a last resort. Gotta give it our all out there and only look into other options as if all else fails."

"Agreed," Nate said.

"Agreed." Rex repeated.

"So what about tonight? Parties are pretty much dead by now."

"Didn't really go out there and give it our all, did we?"

"I guess not."

"So what do we do now?"

"Feel like doing something?"

"Like what."

"What do you feel like?"

Rex shrugged.

"Should I bring up another video?"

"I guess that's okay," Rex said with a pretty good idea of what he was getting into. He felt his sheath throb again at the prospect of potential action and chastised himself, thinking, "down boy."

Without speaking Nate clicked his way out of the inane game analysis window and into his reliable porn folder. A video popped up without much in the way of consultation, one taking place in a classroom setting. A buck sat a desk trying his best to look professorial. The words "Ontology recapitulates Phylogeny" stood cleverly written in chalk behind him, perhaps in an attempt to lend authenticity to the scenario before ensuing sex scene distracted from whatever cerebral context the producers sought to facilitate. Soon a buxom young doe came hopping through the door in search of some tutelage. It didn't take long for clothing to hit the floor.

Just as fur began to fill the screen Nate got up and began to strip himself. He wordlessly tugged his shirt over his shoulders, cautious not to catch it one of the many piercings and gauges on his long loping ears. He fiddled with his belt and tail-strap, tugged his jeans off his hips, and pulled his foot-paws out the legs one by one with a casualness as if he were about to take a shower. The jackrabbit's butt and tuft of a tail came into view, clad in loose fitting red-striped boxers. Those too slid to the floor without much performance, leaving the jackrabbit naked save for the brown tones in his fur. The bed shook a bit as the bare bunny fell back into the bed beside Rex, his paw moving imminently beside his own sheath.

Rex cast a glance over at his nude bunk-mate and sighed. Neither made eye contact or even acknowledged the other's existence, in a far more formal repeat of the previous week. Rex, feeling overdressed, got up and lost his own clothes. His heart raced like it would after the first party after summer vacation, when he managed to bed the first girl after months of doing without. He felt the pressure grow within his own boxers, and an uncharacteristic shyness upon noticing the rather pronounced tenting happening there. He paused a moment with his fingers already under the elastic, psyching himself up for that last revealing gesture and where it may lead. He closed his eyes slipped off his underwear, only blinking open once beside Nate on the bed, sporting a few inches of pink in nothing but the black and white patches of fur.

"Damn," said Nate, casting a glance over at his friend, breaking his silence to take note of the hare's arousal. The jackrabbit's paw moved to his sheath and began to thumb the light brown fuzz in a practiced way. It didn't take long for the jackrabbit's pink tip to slip from his sheath-slit, and grow under the caress of his paw-pads. Another moment longer and both sat there, paws racing along their lengths, repeating the experience of a week before, only without the influence of alcohol to use as an excuse. Nate kept the room light on, assuring an element of stark reality remained, and that no detail needed to go missing in obscurity.

"Let's do it this way," Nate said as the video got to the good parts. "Here," he continued, getting up and directing Rex to lay lengthwise on the dorm-room twin bed. Both shuffled around, until Nate scooted in close beside Rex leaving very hardly any room between them on the narrow mattress. The laptop came to rest at the foot of their bed, just beyond their foot-paws. Rex could feel the fur of the naked, male jackrabbit brush against his hip and elbow in a weird reminder of what they were doing. "You want to try this," the jackrabbit said, nodding at the hare's fully erect cock.

Before Rex could answer Nate reached out and took hold of Rex's firm rabbit cock. The hare opened his lips to protest, but then remembered that this was precisely what he agreed to, and as the first strokes ran his length, it felt pretty damn good even if there was a guy behind the action. He watched Nate's paw travel his length, applying the occasional squeeze around base and tip. The jackrabbit watched along with the hare, taking note of the first droplet of pre successfully rubbed from Rex's cock-tip. They made eye contact that same second. Nate seemed at very least content, save for a nod down at his own lap in motion that implied otherwise. The jackrabbit's cock stood there, firm as ever, a bead of pre glistening from his pee-slit. Rex knew what he had to do, but gave himself a moment to show that he needed to muster up the courage to follow through. He then reached out and took hold of the jackrabbit's arousal, giving it the first tentative tugs as would his own. Rex bucked up on instinct in reaction to the phantom tingle of pleasure, but Nate, and not his own paw functioned as the source. The jackrabbit sighed a bit in response and shifted where he lay, making himself comfortable for the mutual paw-job.

Both rabbits pretended to concentrate on the video at the end of the bed, relying on an assumed etiquette of contact and reaction, while concurrently edging each other towards climax. Rex cast the occasional glance into the jackrabbit's lap in breach of said protocols. Even while his brain processed the fact that he held another guy's hard-on in his paw, he still clung to the little wisp of perhaps necessary cognitive dissonance to ease the transition into whatever label one could apply to assisted masturbation. His thumb occasionally swept over the jackrabbit's cock-tip, directing the slickness of lapine pre down the rest of his shaft. By the time the movie got into its final scenes, Rex's paw, both pads and fur, along with the entirety of Nate's cock were wet with said slickness, rendering each stroke smooth and swift as if aided by a top brand of lube. The hare found himself accommodating the ever more frequent buck and equally eager full body response from Nate as well.

Nate waited until the tail end of the fuck-sequence on screen to give in to Rex's efforts, namely the internal, the pull out and subsequent creampie he and Rex shared an affinity for. As the buck on screen stepped aside and the camera zoomed in for a close-up of the doe-rabbit's vagina in time to capture the thick white ooze of twelve-pointer cum from her loosened lips, Nate decided it was his turn as well. The jackrabbit beside him grew tense, his breathing tellingly erratic, his hips flexed in a desperate series of bucks before freezing at the pinnacle of an upward thrust, bringing his cock to bear in the hope that Rex come through with the last needed strokes. He did, devoting his attention to his bunkmate and vigorously applying the required swift tip-to-base tugs. Rex's fist swept down Nate's sheath and squeezed the very base of his cock in the same way he would his own, as he felt the maleness in his paw jerk in the inevitable sequence of pulses.

The jackrabbit half panted, half grunted some deep sound and whispered an expletive to wooden panels of the top bunk. Nate's paw tried its best to mimic the feeling he was getting from Rex, but as his climax took over his paw grew more and more distracted until tension wrought his body and brought his pawing to a standstill. Meanwhile Rex's attention split between the footage of the oddly delicious looking mess between the female rabbit's legs on screen, and the real life mess taking place beside him. The first jets of rabbit cum arching from Nate's cock-tip onto his belly in viscous splashes won out. Rex watched the substantial streaks of ejaculate accumulate across Nate's lower belly and pubic fur. The jackrabbit's throbs tapered into a languid ooze that simply ran from his tip and caught in the fur on the back of his paw.

Nate fell into refractory mode for a few minutes, sinking into the sheets with a relaxed smile on his muzzle. His whiskers twitched indicative of some inward amusement. Rex felt heat radiate off his friend in a way that almost made him uncomfortable. He still held onto the jackrabbit's slick and softening cock while he got barely a tug. He let go and took a look at his hand. The fur between his pads was matted and soaked and his leathery pads glistened in a coat of pre. A few threads of Nate's semen webbed between his fingers. He breathed in the scent of it. Rex wasn't quite sure if he should feel disgust or what. Last week could have been shelved away as an accident. It sort of just happened to him anyway. This time he came back for more on his own accord, wacked a guy off, and this time totally sober. As the semen seeped into his fur, so did the realization that he had to own this one.

"Hey," he said to the dozing jackrabbit, "what about my turn?"

"Sorry," replied Nate, "just dozing. Been holding that one in for a while now. Needed it." The jackrabbit repositioned himself slightly, devoting his complete attention to his side of the bargain. "Here," he said, after just a few strokes. Nate quickly brought his muzzle down into Rex's lap, taking the hare's pre-slick cock back between his lips without even a second's hesitation.

"The fuck," Rex said, clearly not expecting things to go that far this fast. Sure, it'd already happened before, but he was drunk and a little too tired to put up much of a fuss about it. That and he'd had a week to process things. Now, seeing his friend at it again had the same surreal weirdness to it as before, even without the aid of alcohol. He tried fidgeting away, but one could get only so far from guy with incisors so close to one's cock. The video faded to credits and black, leaving Rex with nothing to watch save for the back of his friend's head bobbing in his lap, and the rest of his naked body curled up against his. Second and third thoughts gave way to resignation. The great job Nate did kind of helped.

This time it became clear what hidden talents the Jackrabbit harbored. Soon Rex's fidgeting didn't stem from trying to get away, but from the complete bliss within Nate's muzzle. The other week Nate was pretty drunk. He must have been a little tired too. That and whatever alcohol Rex consumed probably deadened some of the sensitivity. What felt good then, felt indescribable now, and quickly got him to his personal edge.

"Do that thing you did with your paws last week," Nate spoke, panting heavily as he took a brief reprieve from Rex's throbbing cock.

"What," said Rex, drawn out of his happy place.

"That little maneuver, the thing you did with your foot-paws. I really liked that." Nate continued, throwing his leg over Rex as he got into roughly the same position as before, his arousal dangling between his legs nearly as stiff as before.

As Rex had little room to argue, he wordlessly agreed. He tried his best to find the same angling he had before, bringing his foot-paw's to the jackrabbit's length. He quickly realized it seemed a little trickier than he remembered, let alone stroke with his paws, but he experimented his way into a motion that appeared to work for both bunnies. Nate went back to work, slipping Rex's wet cock back into his mouth. The constant movement of Nate's tongue along his shaft didn't really help Rex's concentration either.

The jackrabbit's tongue never stayed put for more than a few seconds, it caressed pretty much every curve and detail of lapine length, making it hard for Rex to even visualize what was happening inside his roommate's muzzle. Nate's paw played along too, gripping the base of the hare's cock with just enough pressure to keep him from cumming that instant. His fingertips also showed no signs of hesitation when it came to dipping into the inside of his sheath and wiggling around down there in a maneuver he had to be clairvoyant to know he liked. Rex found himself squirming, writhing under the intense pleasure, unable to control the odd buck sending his cock-tip to the back of Nate's throat.

Rex almost forgot he was looking at a guy bobbing eagerly in his lap. He recognized the face, the fur, the pattern of gauges, rings, and industrials studding both the jackrabbit's ears to the point they bowed under the weight of them all. Then there was the fact he held a cock in his footpaws, again. He shook his head, as if that would pull him out of a dream, but no. He sat there, watching it all, wondering what to do with his paws. In a final moment of giving in, he reached out and caressed Nate's scalp between the ears. It wasn't the romantic kind of caress, god no. Just the "that'll do, good job boy" pet he'd learned from porn and bestowed onto a couple of women destined to become one-night-stands.

The little gesture one could call "thoughtful" made a big difference. Nate unleashed a previously undisclosed maneuver with his tongue and let his thumb slide over the base of his cock, as is if triggering some erotic version of a tai-chi pressure point sequence. Whatever he did sent Rex buckling forward, an irrepressible orgasmic pressure building at the base of his cock. The fur-raising pleasure grew as if he'd saved up for weeks. Rex gasped, arching his hips to the point he hilted the jackrabbit's muzzle. His cock began throbbing, casting away that pressure in wave after blissful wave.

Nate accommodated his roommate's rather intense, yet expected reaction. His nose pressed deep into Rex's pubic fur, where he simply paused for the duration of the hare's climax. Only his tongue kept moving, curled around that throbbing bunny-cock as wave after wave of Rex's cum pulsed into his mouth. Rex squirmed in the sheets, losing his grip on Nate's cock for the moment. He found himself panting on his roommate's bed, flushed with heat and surrounded in the sultry scent of semen. His cock pulsed with the final, weaker jerks and softened. He clearly heard Nate swallow more than once. He'd once heard being gay referred to as living with your best friend, except with awesome sex involved. He had to chuckle at the astuteness of the comparison, even if the label still bothered him.

"How was that?" Nate panted, upon letting Rex's softening cock slip from his muzzle. A smile curled on his lips. The fur around his nose and cheeks was wet with his own saliva and probably some trace fluids.

"Good," Rex said concisely but in complete honesty. "How many guys have you been with to learn all that?"

"Beside you, two."

"Damn, just three? How'd you get so good."

"I've been called gifted."

"I'll say."

"You're falling behind," Nate said, leaning up to the point his ears touched the panels of the bunk above him. He quickly pointed to his maleness. He looked completely aroused again and had the pre-droplets to confirm it. "Here," he said, "I can tell it's getting a little awkward for you. Besides the position you're in makes it kinda tough to do what you're doing." Nate's naked form came to rest at the opposite end of the bed. He made himself comfortable with an extra pillow. He sat directly opposite Rex with his legs parallel. His erect cock pointed upward just a few inches away from Rex's foot-paws. "This should be easier."

"You still want me to do it?"

"Hell yea," he said in a melodic tone, his head cocked in a rather sassy you're-not-gonna-get-away-that-easy look.

Rex nodded ambivalently and brought his foot-paws back to the jackrabbit's firm pink length, figuring he'd already gone this far before. His paws clasped Nate's length far less awkwardly than before, allowing his powerful leg muscles to easily stroke the firm rod of rabbit flesh. He could already feel Nate's pre coat his toe-pads with that rather unique natural slickness. It didn't take very long for the stuff to make his movement fluid, allowing the ridges of Nate's tip and his warm hard shaft to smoothly slide along his pads, which in judging from the jackrabbit's expression felt pretty damn good.

Nate, apparently not wanting to leave Rex out, brought his own paws to the hare's lap. Rex's dick never really resheathed itself. Instead the half-masted chub hung there, leaking an after-trickle of sperm and pre onto his black-furred sheath. Nate's toes immediately began to massage that member, brushing balls and sheath in a way Rex could learn from. Between watching Nate's cock slip through his two-tone foot-paws, and the jackrabbit's hazel-furred counterparts dexterously massaging the sensitive bits in his lap triggered the renewed blood flow to that region and had him hard again in minutes. His pre already began to stain the jackrabbit's auburn paw-fur. He began to huff as the refractory period wore off and he could feel the urge to cum again building deep inside his loins.

Nate began to lend a helping paw, holding Rex by the ankles as his cock quickly slipped through the hare's pre-slick paw-pads. He could tell Nate got closer by the minute. He remembered the feeling of Nate throbbing in his foot-paws, and the alcohol-eroded image of the jackrabbit's cum webbing his toes. If he remembered correctly, he enjoyed to have that slickness there, recalling the squish between them on the short climb up to his bunk at the end of the night. Rex still didn't feel sure what he should think of the whole paw thing Nate seemed so fascinated about. It did feel good, he gave him that, and it had him nice and hard too. He guessed he had a lot in common with this one, Nate. He guessed, though he hated to admit it, the whole paw thing counted among all the other interests they shared. The line of thinking made him eager to cum again, and mark his friend's paws in a good amount of bunny ejaculate, the same way he'd have his marked. The knowledge that he'd have his creamed in a matter of moments made him look forward to the inevitable.

Just as his legs started to feel tired from the odd positioning, Nate bucked up and gave him what he'd been expecting. He suddenly felt the familiar throbs, the rhythmic and somehow very arousing pulse against his soft paw-pads. Rex's gaze darted down the bed, catching view of the first of many bursts of Nate's cum. The jackrabbit's viscous white seed shot forth, only to rain back down on his foot-paws in a thick pattering of warmth. His paws clasped Nate as tight as he could, and deftly stroked the bunny's jerking shaft, sparing him his toe-claws in a way intended to win his bunkmate's praise. He could already feel the unique slickness of sperm ooze between his paws and Nate's twitching shaft. The warmth seeped into the fur between his toes, making the last strokes all the more fluid and squishy. Nate gasped as he had earlier, the very masculine tone he'd typically only overhear during Nate's most vigorous lays, the kind he'd brag about for weeks. Rex sighed too, a little bit relieved and strangely pleased to feel the tickle of semen over his toes.

After only a brief lapse in concentration, and equally short recuperative moment, Nate consolidated his efforts on Rex. The hare huffed as the jackrabbit's swift movements built up the throbbing pressure at the root of his cock. He stared, panting through slightly open lips at the pink dome of his cock-tip as it appeared and reappeared between the tufts of brown fur on the jackrabbit's broader and more dexterous paws. A growing amount of pre stained the soft fuzz a darker shade around Nate's soft and equally slick paw-pads. Rex soon found his plateau and thrust along with the skillful movements, watching with a great deal of satisfaction as his fluids marked his roommate.

Even as he huffed himself closer to climax, Rex's foot-paws tirelessly continued to massage Nate's softening length. The slick, softening bunny-cock passed between his messy paw-pads with recently added lapine semen functioning as a perfect lube. Even if the cum wasn't his, and even if the feeling of it squish between his toes struck him as oddly invasive, the sight of it came across as intensely intriguing. The warm slippery feeling permeating his fur down to the skin, the growing craving to exact revenge, and the realization that what they were up to could definitely be classified as fun, quickly got him to the edge. Just as the fuzz on the bottom of Nate's feet brushed that very sensitive part of him, and he again felt that first little shift that just needed a little something extra to work, Rex rushed and grabbed Nate's paws, holding them together around his throbbing dick as he thrust his way to a final, draining orgasm.

Rex buckled forward and gasped, his eyes blurring over and closing as orgasmic throb became his one sole focus. He came with the satisfaction of knowing there would be a pleasant mess on Nate's paws as soon as he reopened them. The hare bucked in tune with his jets of seed, thrusting though the paws curled around his slick erection, draining what essence he had left into the fur of Nate's paws. He didn't cum as much as before, but it was more than enough to leave more than a few white streaks of his own product across the jackrabbit's toes. He sighed, blinking clarity back into his gaze, watching the last translucent trickle ooze down his length and catch in Nate's tawny fur. The rest webbed between the jackrabbit's toes and his softening cock in a very delicious way.

Both bunnies lay there for a while at the limits of their youthful, lapine stamina, simply appreciating the mess they made of each other's bodies. Their paws continued to idly play in the warm sticky disarray of each other's laps, the matted tufts fur, sticky threads of semen, and the glistening pink of cock and paw-pad. Neither spoke a word, though they did occasional tickle a chuckle out of each other. The playfulness, along with the exhaustion of their activities, put Rex oddly at ease, as if all were merely a modestly more advanced replay of a more innocent period of his life.

Rex's paws took and massaged one of Nate's foot-paws, rubbing cum around his pads and purposefully into the fur between them. Some of the more superficial streaks of his sperm coated Nate in a way to where it only then started to seep into his fur. He thought of the video from earlier and their shared interest in creampies. When he was younger he always felt a temptation to bury his muzzle in such a mess tongue first, but it was one of those things that had a bit of a gay stigma to it on the count of all that cum. While he was loath to compare a foot-paw to a vagina, the craving he felt was the same. He lifted Nate's paw, identified a rather thick streak of his own semen, closed his eyes and tried not to think. His tongue passed over the tufts of fur between Nate's pads, and over one of them directly, taking with it the flavor of his cum into his muzzle.

For the first time ever he tasted his own cum in what he decided was an overambitious experiment. He stuck his tongue out and quickly tried to purge the flavor from his mouth. Nate on the other hand looked on his roommate with an expression of pleasant surprise. Even his normally weighed down ears perked.

"Dude, did you just lick cum off my foot-paw?"

"Yea," Rex admitted, knowing fair well he couldn't deny it.

"Fuck," said Nate. "Nice. I always wanted to do that but could never bring myself to it."

"There's always now," Rex said.

"Another time perhaps. There are some things even I need to psyche myself up for."

"So we're probably gonna do this again sometime."

"If you want. This was pretty fun. Of course we need to hit the dating scene again."

"Of course. We should probably find a date before we do anything like this again."

"Yea," Nate agreed. "Don't want this to go too far."

"Agreed."

"Now what?"

"I'm probably gonna shower," said Nate.

"Yea..." said Rex, noting the extent of the matted fur around his crotch and belly.

With that the jackrabbit got up, slapped the laptop shut and relocated over to his desk, leaving a few cummy paw-prints in his wake. Rex sat there a little bit disappointed. He'd gotten off twice but something felt missing. He did miss those dirty naked cuddles after sex, but the idea of himself all snuggled up to Nate still didn't sit well. All in all he felt a little used and confused, the same way he did before, but there existed a certain peace in knowing that it really didn't feel that bad. Wasn't he still the same bunny as before? It was just play, after all. All over campus guys were heading to bed single and un-laid. Whatever happened, he had the advantage of being drained tonight in a way far more interactive than twenty minutes of "me-time" and a porno. There was something cool in that. Based on their agreement, it everything would remain between them and no one else would know, his reputation was safe.

Gentleman's Agreement © Rufus Quentin

Characters & Idea © SilverRat