Sibirskaia: Blood & Water Part 6
(November 9th)
For the first time, this didn't feel like a stranger's home.
Mic had been here before, of course. He'd been here the night Hunter had moved in, in fact. And he'd been friends with Hunter long enough -- and Hunter had had reason to visit this place often enough -- that he'd seen it more than once. He'd eaten here. He'd slept here. But at the end of the day, this was still Stanley Jones's home...and no matter what Stan was to Hunter, he was still a stranger to Mic. He wasn't family. He wasn't Dot.
Today, though...Stan was gone. He was at work this Saturday, for what the hyena could only assume was some sort of emergency surgery. But he was probably wrong. After all, was Stanley even a surgeon?
Either way, it worked out for the best. Without Stan here, and with only Hunter to keep him company, this strange house finally felt welcoming and inviting. Finally felt familiar. And of course, more importantly than all of that...
...without Stanley here, they had their privacy.
And they would need it, too. Because, soon, Elliot would step through the door. Soon, they would retreat to Hunter's room. And, soon...
But this was a mistake. It was wrong. Elliot was wrong to suggest it. Hunter was wrong to agree. And Mic was wrong to be party to it. It was stupid. It was the single stupidest decision the hyena had ever allowed his libido to make. Or...thanks to last Sunday, the second stupidest.
But what was he to do? Turn down the chance at a threesome? Refuse a friend's request? Throw away the one chance Elliot had given him to hold on to two of his last three friends? It was stupid. It was wrong. It was a mistake.
But it was happening.
And in the living room the window of Stan's house...Hunter -- his best friend -- waited, watching in silence for the inevitably approaching car. For the face of a husky.
Mic looked on as the tiger squirmed and wrung his paws...rocked on his heels and popped his knuckles...sighed and shook. He watched him steel himself and wrestle with his composure. And from his seat on the couch, the hyena finally spoke up...hoping to offer Hunter some small comfort, even though he, himself, had none to share.
"You okay?"
The tiger twitched, but kept his eyes on the road, outside, "Why wouldn't I be?"
"I dunno. You just look..." Mic stood and approached, "...uneasy?"
And Hunter finally glanced at his friend, with a smirk, "And why wouldn't I be?" but only for a second, before turning back.
"Fair enough," the hyena returned the smile. "Wanna' talk about it?"
But Hunter simply shrugged in exasperation, "I just don't know what to expect, you know? I mean: we talked about it -- we talked about it A LOT, in fact -- and he explained his position on all of this, but I just..."
"You don't know if he's tellin' the truth?" Mic concluded...
...but the tiger argued, "Oh no. He's telling the truth! He REALLY believes this is a good idea. What I'm worried about...is that he might be wrong."
"You think he doesn't really understand what he's gettin' into? That he doesn't understand-"
"Himself," Hunter cut him short.
And Mic paused and considered how to continue. Because that made perfect sense, of course...but it didn't really answer his question, either.
"Well, are YOU okay?" the hyena pressed on. "Like...if he's right, and he IS okay after all o' this. Will you be? Do YOU want this?"
Hunter laughed and looked at his friend again, "Are you kidding me? Me, you, and Elliot together? I've dreamt of this! I just..." he took a breath and turned back to the window, "...I just don't want to regret it, y'know? It's not worth it if it hurts him. Or, rather..." he corrected himself, "...hurts him more."
"Do you think he'll really go through with it?"
But before the tiger could answer, "Well, we're about to find out."
The hyena shifted, assuming his friend's position at the window before the tiger could even reach the door. He heard the knob turn and the hinges creak, and he watched, outside, as the long-awaited sedan pull to a stop. He recognized the rabbit in the passenger seat: Stan's brother, Aaron. He'd met him before. And, though he'd never seen the husky behind the wheel, he knew enough to know it was William. Aaron's lover. Elliot's uncle.
And though Hunter was approaching the car, and Elliot was stepping out of the back door...Mic's eyes were on Will. He saw him slowly open his own door, he noticed the glower on his face, and he watched as he strode, with purpose, around the car.
He couldn't hear what came next, and he'd never been very adept at reading lips...but he didn't need to know the words to know what was being said. Hunter had cheated on Elliot. Elliot had cried and raged. William had seen it all.
And the elder husky was not pleased.
Hunter nodded and bowed his head. He showed his submission. He accepted his verbal punishment. And he barely flinched as the husky's paw rose. Certainly, he didn't expect to be struck...or at least Mic wouldn't have expected it. But nonetheless, when the paw rose, Hunter didn't shy away. He just stood, head bowed...
...as the older dog patted him on the shoulder.
And William smirked. He grinned, he shook his head, and he turned to leave. And judging from the look on his face, Hunter was just as surprised by the gesture as Mic. Elliot, however, was not. And with one final pointed finger, and a few stern words, William was back in his car and down the road.
And so Elliot and Hunter turned -- feet tapping, lips moving, and eyes on the path before them -- and marched back to the house, where Mic waited inside for the door to swing open.
And it did...
"...just gotta' give him some time," Elliot's voice preceded the husky, through the door. "He'll get over it: both him and my dad. I mean, they'll have to, right? I did!" He smiled at the Hyena as Hunter closed the door behind them, "Hey Mic!"
But despite the smile, Mic couldn't shake the feeling that he was watching a train wreck in slow motion, "Hey, Ell..."
"Look at you! You're nervous." With a wag of his brows, Elliot looked back and forth between his lover and their friend, "You two didn't get started without me, did you?"
And Hunter, as if a dog, nearly yelped: "What? No!"
"No-no-no!" Mic added. He knew this was a bad idea, "I haven't even been here long enough for that, and-"
"Relax. Relax. It was a joke," the husky stifled a laugh, clearly at their expense. "And either way: just so long as you saved some for me, we'd be cool. I mean, I can't have my initiation into the club stopped before it even starts, right?"
"Club?" Hunter asked...
...and Elliot nodded, "Yeah! You and all your, uhm...secret friends, or whatever." He motioned at the house...at their 'staging area' as it were, "This is how I join up, right?"
Was that what this was about? Was Elliot just doing this because he thought he had to? Just to make friends? "Y'know, if ya' just wanna' meet the guys, this isn't like a...requirement or anything," Mic assured him. "They'll be your friends even if ya' don't suck their dicks."
"Yeah. Maybe." The husky leaned in and nudged the hyena, with a wink, "But where's the fun in that?"
And Mic couldn't help but laugh. A voice inside told him not to believe it: told him it was all an act. Certainly, Elliot didn't really want this. Certainly, this was still a mistake...but the dog was playing the role well, nonetheless.
Hunter, though, pushed on: "I think what he means is: you don't have to do this if you don't want to. No one's making you, and you can turn back at any time."
"But I DO want to! Why the hell wouldn't I? I..." Elliot's smile faded, and he blinked as worry washed over his face, "...wait. You two want to, too, right? I mean...like...with me? M-me being here doesn't, like...ruin it or something, does it?"
And his tiger quickly waved his paws on protest, "Oh! No, hun! I didn't mean it like that, at all! Of course we do." He pointed at their hyena friend, "I mean: fuck! Mic's been begging me to drag you into this, for weeks."
"Well, then what's the problem?" Elliot asked more calmly...
...and Mic explained: "We just wanna' make sure you're okay, Elliot."
"Okay? I'm better than okay!" The husky smiled his widest, yet, "I brought cards!
Blood & Water Spots & Stripes
(November 7th)
"A threesome!? You want us to have a threesome with Mic?" Hunter repeated what he'd just heard, in startled disbelief...and certainly a good deal louder than he should have, for this locale. "Elliot...how is that supposed to fix anything?"
His boyfriend glanced around the school hall, ears reflexively pinned, "Well it...it's not."
And Hunter did the same, suddenly thankful for how empty these halls were...and for how late they'd lingered for their fight, this Thursday afternoon, "But you just said..."
"I know what I said." The husky held up his paws as he explained, "But I just want to START with the threesome. I mean: cause it's perfect, right? It's you, and me, and your best friend! And not JUST your best friend, but the guy you've done more...sex stuffs with than anyone else in the world!"
Did Elliot really think that? "No, hun," Hunter corrected him, "that would be you. You know you were my first."
"Okay, maybe we've gone FARTHER. But have we done it as many times?" his boyfriend looked him in the eye as he asked. And Hunter couldn't exactly argue that, so Elliot continued: "Look: my point is that...I mean, yeah! I want this threesome. I think it's a good idea. I want to finally be able to do with Mic, what YOU'VE done with Mic. I wanna'...disarm the situation. I wanna' make it something we've both done, so we can make it a non issue, and...just move on."
"You wanna' do what I'VE done?" the tiger gulped at the sound of that. And -- although he was afraid to speak his mind -- after everything they'd said only moments earlier, in Mr. Callaway's room, this was no time to be evasive. "That makes it sound like you'd rather take him off to some rest room by yourself, than to have a threesome..."
"I thought about it," Elliot nodded, but just as quickly shook his head, "But it's better if you're there. It's better as a threesome. It NEEDS to be a threesome! Especially because this threesome...it isn't what I really want. It's just the beginning. What I really want -- where this is headed -- involves both of us." He took a breath, clearly readying himself -- and giving Hunter the chance to do the same -- for something big. "Because what I really want...is an open relationship."
But a thousand deep breaths couldn't have prepared Hunter for that.
He reeled. He stopped dead in his tracks. His own spit caught in his throat and he coughed. "What!?" An open relationship!? But only moments ago, right back upstairs in Mr. Callaway's room, Elliot had changed his mind. He'd kept the necklace. He'd decided to stay Hunter's boyfriend! Had he really flipped back so quickly? Had it all been some tease? "Elliot, I...I thought you changed your mind about...about..." limply, the cat motioning at the necklace around his boyfriend's neck.
And the husky stopped as well. He turned, and boldly -- publically -- placed his paws on his tiger's chest, "Calm down. I'm not leaving you. I said an open relationship. The key word, there, is 'relationship'! We'll still be together; it'll just be...different."
"I don't...I don't understand how this is supposed to..." Hunter shook his head and took a long, calming breath. He said he wasn't leaving. He said they would still be together. Hear him out. Let him explain. "Sorry. What I mean is: why?"
"I don't really understand it, myself, to be honest; I'm still figuring it all out. But I know it's right. And I know it's what I want." Elliot paused and looked around, spotting an old bench nearby and taking a seat. "Just...just bear with me, while I try and make sense of everything, okay? And I'll try to explain." With a grin, he beckoned his boyfriend to follow...
...and, gingerly, the tiger joined him, "Sure. Yeah..."
For a moment, there was a silence between them. A particularly eerie and unnatural silence, in fact, in what was normally such a packed and noisy hall. Hunter could barely contain himself, waiting for it to be broken...but once Elliot did speak, he pulled no punches.
"I envy you," he admitted. "And not just you. I envy Mic, and Donald, and all of your other friends. I envy my uncle, and my dad, and Aaron. I want to have the kind of fun that all of you guys got to have! I wanna' get my dick sucked by a friend in a park restroom, by surprise. I wanna' be at a party, and watch a friend get bent over and fucked in the basement, like it's nothing! I wanna' have a group of friends I can be that close with...to have fun with and make stories and memories with...with no strings attached, no pressure, no emotions, no worries about cheating or hurt feelings. Just...just getting to have fun and to be a kid! To explore, you know?" He turned and looked his cat in the eye, "You all got that, and...and I want it, too."
Hunter smiled, albeit uneasily, "All you had to do was ask, Elliot. Mic and I could bring you along to a party like that, whenever you like!" He shrugged and looked away, "I mean...you probably have the wrong idea, though. It doesn't happen every damn time we hang out, but-"
"No." the husky cut him short...
...and he looked back. "No?"
"No," his boyfriend repeated, eyes on the floor. "It's not the same if I need an escort. It's not the same if you have to be there protecting me, or watching over me...or allowing me to do it, only so long as you're involved. Then it's just me and you making plans to have threesomes, or foursomes, or orgies. And I'm not saying that's not fun, or something I wouldn't love to do...but it's not the same."
But Hunter couldn't pretend to understand, "It's not?"
"Of course not!" Elliot looked up again. "Because then it's still so damn serious and I'm still...tied down. There are still rules, and worries, and emotions I have to juggle. I mean..." he counted off on his fingers as he spoke, "is Hunter watching me? What if he doesn't approve of what I'm doing? Should I have asked before I did this or did that...or touched this guy or touched that guy? Will he let us come back and do it again, or have I ruined this experience for him? If we CAN do it again, then when will we be able to...?"
"So you're saying you want the spontaneity?" the tiger did his best to clarify. "You don't want me to HAVE to be there. You wanna' just be able to let things happen...when and how they do?"
And Elliot nodded, "Yeah! I just want it to feel relaxed and okay. I just want it to be fun!" And he paused again, before meeting his tiger's eyes, for what the cat immediately knew would be yet another confession: "And that's the problem Hunter. Because I love you...but I think I resent you."
"You resent me?" Hunter stared right back into those eyes, as he asked: "For what?"
"For being what's standing in the way of me doing this." The words hit the tiger like a fist to the chest, and judging from Elliot's next two words, he must have known they would. "I'm sorry. I know that sounds harsh. And I know it's not even the truth. But it's how I feel sometimes. Like...like if I wasn't tied down to you, then I could do it. And," he leaned back, eyes on the ceiling, "and to be honest, it was one of the biggest reasons those pictures hurt! Because here I am, wanting to do something like that...with Mic, with other guys at school, with my uncle, with..." he stopped short -- awkwardly -- before continuing, "...but I'm not! I'm being good and faithful. And I was okay with that, I really was! Because I love you. But then when you weren't doing the same, for me? When you still found a way to have that sort of fun, even though I couldn't?"
"I, uhm...yeah." Hunter couldn't deny it. He couldn't argue. That made more sense than anything else Elliot had said, upstairs or since. It rang truer than any other complaint the husky could levee...no matter how hurtful, lustful, or even petty it might sound. "...I think I know what you mean."
"Oh, I KNOW you know what I mean!" Elliot added emphatically. "Because I'm also worried that, if we don't do this, you'll resent ME, too!"
And the tiger shook his head immediately: "I would never!"
But Elliot didn't back down, "Wouldn't you? What if your friends wanted to hang out with you, and you had to turn them down so you wouldn't accidently cheat on me? Or what if you were already with them, and you had to watch them have fun, but you couldn't join in? How much of that could you deal with before -- on some level -- you started to resent me?"
"I don't know..." Hunter hated how much sense this was making...
"In fact, truth be told...you resent me for what happened with Mic, already." The husky barely took a breath, speaking too fast for his boyfriend to have the chance to deny: "You resent the fact that it wasn't more fun...because you had to worry about how I would feel, and then had to deal with me being hurt afterward. I'm right, aren't I?"
And Hunter winced and closed his eyes, hanging his head as he admitted: "You are."
"And, you know? I think that's okay!" Elliot sounded nearly jubilant. "It makes sense! It's not a nice feeling to have, but it's a natural one, right? I mean: it's a feeling I would have had, at least."
The tiger was reeling, still.
He hadn't stopped reeling since the words 'open relationship' had touched his ears, and every new blow had sent him teetering again. Elliot wanted a threesome. He wanted open relationship. He wanted to have the life that Hunter and the others had had. He wanted freedom. He resented Hunter. But above it all: he knew Hunter resented him back...
...and he was really okay with that? "So, you're not mad about it?"
"I dunno. No?" Elliot shrugged. "I probably should be, but I'm not. I mean: I'm still a bit hurt and angry about all of this, in general, you know? But I'm trying to understand. I'm trying to fix it. I'm trying to put myself in your shoes. And..." he laughed, "...and I'm surprised at how easy that really is."
Somehow -- even if only because of Elliot's own heightened mood -- Hunter felt himself smile, "What do you mean?"
"I mean that I've been tempted, too, Hunter. Very tempted. And more than once." The husky paused in thought, and his cat wondered if he was thinking of any one person in particular, "And I barely controlled myself. And in the situation you were in? With how bad things are for you, right now? It's no surprise that you couldn't."
But Hunter just shook his head, "Like you said: that's no excuse."
"Maybe not. But it's a fact," Elliot argued. "And how long until it happens again? And I mean with EITHER ONE of us. How long until you're alone with Donald or Mic and something bad happens, again? How long until Aaron and my dad leave me alone with Will, and we do something stupid? How long until I can't handle all these little sneak peeks, unexpected interruptions, and errant whiffs of musk, and..." he paused, looking the cat dead in the eye, yet again, "...and do more than just LEER at my dad?"
Nothing...
No deep thoughts. No mental images. No metaphorical fist to the chest or the jaw. The tiger didn't reel. He didn't consider the implications of what Elliot had said. He didn't try and piece it together as he would later...to wondering if this was all part of Elliot's plan to climb into his own father's pants. He didn't wonder how it might affect him. He wasn't disgusted or mad...or even amused or aroused. All he did was replay those two words in his head...
...and then out loud, "You...your dad?"
"Surprised?" Elliot flashed a timid smile. "It's not exactly the first time I've said something..."
"I...I thought you were just joking." But, then again, with Elliot's past with Will...why should he be surprised?
"Well..." the husky's paw nervously tapped the floor, "that's what today's about, right? Being honest?"
"Yeah. I'd say so..."
"Are you okay?" Elliot bent, putting himself back in view of Hunter's wandering eyes...
...and the tiger locked his lover in his sights, "With how you feel about your dad?"
"For starters."
"I, uhm..." he couldn't believe what he was about to say. He couldn't believe it was the truth. But, amidst everything else -- in the face of cheating and death, near break ups and open relationships, trials and uprooted lives, shattered privacy and school wide ridicule -- this just didn't matter. "...I think I AM."
Elliot's tensed shoulders dropped and his timid smile turned hopeful, "And the rest?"
"I don't know, Elliot," Hunter shook his head. "I mean: it makes sense, I guess? I get your point. I know what you mean, and why you think this is a good idea. I just..."
"It still sounds like I'm leaving you?" the husky asked...
...and Hunter agreed, "Round about."
There, in the surprising privacy of an empty school hallway -- though privacy was far and away a lost cause for them both -- Elliot turned and took his lover's paw. And Hunter squeezed it and felt a tear sting his eye. Just minutes earlier, upstairs, he'd thought even this -- just holding his lover's paw -- was something he might never do again...
"I love you, Hunter. That hasn't changed, and it still won't," Elliot lifted the paw and kissed it. "And I know you love me, too."
"I do."
"So then, to you..." the husky leaned in, nearly nose-to-nose, "is our relationship just about sex?"
"Of course not!" Hunter protested.
"Then how does it hurt us, if we share that one part of what we have with other people? What's wrong with us having a little bit of fun somewhere else? I mean: does it really take away from any other part of our relationship?" Elliot shook his head with a sigh, "I'm not gonna' fall in love with Will. You're not gonna' fall in love with Mic. We'll still...we'll still belong to one another! I'll still love you, and you'll still love me...no matter what we do with anyone else."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Well...you and Mic & Donald were playing around LONG before I showed up. And you aren't dating either of them, yet. So why would that change, now? And the same goes for me and Will!"
The tiger chuckled, "Yeah, I guess."
"I mean it, Hunter," Elliot leaned in. Their noses touched. And his voice dropped to barely above a whisper, "No matter what happens with them, or anyone else, you'll still be the one I want to hold when I fall asleep at night. You'll still be the one I go to movies with...and imagine romantic dinners I can't afford with!"
Though hesitant to act like this in public, after everything else that had happened, Hunter happily added: "You'll still be the one I lie with, under the stars, at my grandmother's old farmhouse."
"The one I call my boyfriend when I talk to my dad. The one my family knows." The husky sparked a devilish grin, "The one I piss off our classmates with, by going to some stupid dance..."
"The one I kiss, and hug, and nuzzle ..." and nuzzle, Hunter did, against his lover's cold nose, "...just because I can?"
In return, Elliot planted a single kiss on his lips, "And we will still be together long after all of our stupid, little playmates are gone."
And with that, his monochrome lover stood, and pulled the tiger by a paw, to join him. So many voices in the orange cat's head screamed as he stood. This was wrong. This was stupid. This was a mistake. Elliot was wrong. It would fail. It would split them up. They weren't ready for anything so risky...
...but in this moment, it felt right: too right to argue. It was what Elliot wanted. And Hunter would give it to him.
And as they stood face-to-face, the husky squeezed his paw, again, "You're mine. I'm yours. And this does not change that."
"Will we really be okay?" Hunter checked once more.
"We will," Elliot smiled. And they turned and padded as one, continuing on their way toward the front doors of the school, only yards away, "But the first step to getting there...is standing on the other side of this door."
And they made their walk those few short yards, paw in paw, and they pushed open the doors to the bright afternoon before them: to the sight of a wolf marching away from the school steps in a rage...a white folf scurrying quickly out of sight...and the terrified and familiar face of a hyena...
"H-hey Elliot..."
~
(November 9th)
Two days later, though, that face was far from terrified.
It was still more than a little nervous, of course, but this Saturday evening, on this bed, that face had turned hopeful, lustful...and even predatory. While the face of the tiger to its left was almost proud:
"I've gotta' give it to you, Ell," Hunter nodded with a smile. "This is definitely new. I mean: Donald always wanted us to, but as weird as it sounds...strip poker is something we've never actually done, before."
"Speak for yourself," Mic contended...
...but the tiger argued, "Doing it with your cousins, when you're a cub, doesn't count."
"It counts plenty!"
And Hunter just shook his head and turned his attention back to his canid lover, "Well, I'VE never done it before, at least."
Of course, Elliot appreciated the praise. It was nice to know that Hunter was so proud of his choice of...entertainment for the evening. But, unfortunately, it was also quite unintentionally embarrassing.
"Yeah..." Elliot began hesitantly, "...tonight might not really change that."
"Huh?" his tiger tilted his head...
...and he explained: "I, uhm...I don't really know how to play poker."
On cue, Hunter let out a booming laugh. It was the only full laugh he had: one which Elliot had been forced to learn, long ago, might not be quite so uproarious -- or in this case, derisive -- as it sounds. But to the tiger's right, Mic met the admission with a far more obviously mocking roll of his eyes.
"Hey!" the husky barked, jumping to his own defense. "I get the basics, at least. It's just all that complicated stuff about...calling, and raising, and folding, and bluffing. That stuff confuses me." He scratched nervously at his neck as he looked down at the unboxed cards, "So...I mean...it might not really count as 'poker.' But I figured we could just play a stripped down version, instead."
"Stripped down?" Hunter repeated with a chuckle...
...and Mic joined in, "Well, yeah! That's kinda' the idea, isn't it?"
And truth be told: Elliot prized this most of all. Perhaps even more than what was to come. This sort of joking and teasing? This playful banter? He imagined, after all, that this was how it was with the other guys, too. With Donald, and with all the other imagined faces to which he couldn't even assign names. And as he looked around at himself and his two friends, sitting in a circle there on Hunter's bed...he knew that THAT was all he really wanted:
To be one of the guys.
"Stripped down as in: simplified," he explained in as condescending a tone as he could muster.
"Okay," Hunter nodded. "So, what did you have in mind, then?"
"Well, I thought..." the husky shook his paws out and readied himself for his explanation. "Like, we'll each make our bets: the item of clothing we're putting on the line. Then we deal, and everyone gets their paw -- their five cards -- and gets the chance to trade out however many they don't like." He paused and winced, wondering if that step had its own term, and if he'd just opened himself up to more ridicule for not knowing it, "Uhm...trade? Exchange? Replace? Is there a special word for that, in poker?"
But Mic just shook his head, "Maybe? But not that I know of."
And that, thankfully, washed away Elliot's nerves immediately. For a moment there, he'd begun to worry that Mic was some sort of card shark! "Well, either way: everyone gets their chance to do that, and then we'll just play our paws! No fancy betting stuff -- no one calls, or raises, or folds, or whatever -- we just play our paws and see who wins!"
"And the clothes?" Hunter asked. "Does the one who has the worst paw lose his clothes? Or does the winner choose who loses something?"
"I, uhm...actually, I thought we could treat more like a real bet." Elliot hummed softly, hoping to do his best to explain: "Like, when there's money involved, everyone who loses the paw, loses whatever money they put on the line, right? It all goes to the winner. So in this, everyone but the winner loses whatever clothes they bet!"
"That'll make for a quick game," Hunter noted.
"But what about the winner?" Mic asked. "Does he get to put anything back on?"
"No," Elliot answered...
...but Hunter offered his own explanation as to why: "Because that would make for too LONG of a game!"
"Of course!" their hyena friend chuckled.
"But does it make sense?" Elliot asked hopefully, and turned to Mic in particular. "Like...is that right?"
Still chuckling, his friend nodded, "Close enough." And he tilted his head, "But ya' know everything else, right? Like...which paws beat what?"
The husky felt himself blush, "Mostly?"
And again, Mic rolled his eyes, "If we run into any trouble, I'll help."
"Wait!" Hunter interjected. "Why? So you can lie about it, and cheat?"
"Why would I wanna' cheat? I wanna' be naked JUST as much as I want the two o' you naked," the hyena argued. "You must not understand the point o' the game!"
"Yeah, yeah," Hunter crossed his arms stubbornly. "Fair enough."
"So are we ready?" Elliot asked, smiling ear to ear.
"I am if you are," Hunter nodded...
...and to his right, Mic simply snatched up the deck of cards and began to shuffle, "And just in case it comes up, kiddos...aces are high."
Shamelessly, Elliot asked: "Aren't they always?"
And Mic suppressed a laugh to answer: "No."
"Oh..." Though embarrassed, the husky moved right along: "Well, uhm, what are we betting on the first paw?"
"Why don't we start slow," Hunter suggested, "and all just bet our shirts?"
"I'm okay with that." Mic winked as he shuffled, "I DO like bein' teased!"
And Elliot nodded happily, "Yeah! Me, too."
"Let's do it, then!" the hyena proclaimed as he cut the cards and immediately went about dealing the first paw.
Elliot watched as the cards slid weightlessly across Hunter's comforter, before he quickly collected his five. And when he had, there in his paws were a two, a five, an eight, a ten, and an ace. It took him a moment -- a longer moment than he would have liked to admit -- to realize that he had nothing. But at least he had an ace, right? And it was high, so that had to count for something, didn't it?
And so he looked around at his lover and their friend, curious as to just how they felt about their own paws. Hunter was excited, clearly, and made no attempt to hide it. And Mic, meanwhile, was nearly emotionless.
Hey! Was that what they call a poker face?
"You first," Mic spoke up, jarring Elliot from his thoughts...
...and it took the dog a second to realize what he was being asked to do. He had to trade out cards, now, didn't he? So he looked at his paw and wracked his brain for what to do. And then he remembered one set in particular. He couldn't remember the name...but wasn't having all of the top cards -- ten, jack, queen, king, and ace -- one of the better paws? And he had a ten and an ace already! So maybe, if he was REALLY lucky...
"Three!" he chirped hopefully, and dropped the two, five, and eight onto the bed. But, unfortunately, the jack, three, and nine which were soon cluttering his paw, immediately dashed his hopes. He still had nothing...
And Mic moved right along, "Hunter?"
"One," the tiger dropped a single card and collected its replacement. And if the look on his face before had been 'excitement', then the one that took its place now was pure, unadulterated bliss.
"And I'll take two..." Mic muttered to himself, and exchanged his cards. But before Elliot could gauge his reaction...
"Okay!" Hunter piped up. "What do we have?"
"Nothing," Elliot sighed, as he displayed his useless paw...
...and Mic fanned out his own, with a wide, proud smile, "Three of a kind!"
But Hunter, meanwhile, could barely contain himself as he asked all-too-innocently: "And...this is a straight, right?"
The tiger looked Mic right in the eye, and watched in clear and undeniable glee as his friend's smile faded away before the cards could even be played. And then, one-by-one, he laid them out -- a three, a four, a five, a six, and a seven -- each one curling the hyena's lip just a little more...
...before he finally growled in frustration. "That IS a straight. And yes!" he snapped, "before you ask: it beats three of a kind."
"Ha-ha!" Hunter threw up his paws in celebration, jarring the springs, rocking the bed, and nearly scattering the cards, before he pointed at his lover and their friend. "I've won your shirts! Paw 'em over!"
Elliot was the first to move.
But it wasn't because he was more eager, and he was certain -- from what he knew of Mic -- that it wasn't because he was less shy, either. As best he could tell...it was simply because Mic had a bigger problem with losing than he did. He was just too damn competitive and too damn stubborn, to move too quickly.
And so, Elliot gripped the tail of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head in one swift movement, exposing his soft, white underbelly before he tossed the cotton swath over his tiger's head with a laugh. And then he turned to watch Mic do much the same. But even as the hyena's shirt, too, sailed through the air and landed, draped, over Hunter's still smiling face...
...Elliot's eyes sat locked. He wasn't watching that flying shirt, or Hunter getting hit by it. He was watching Mic. He was scanning his friend's torso. His dull brown fur. His flat stomach and the barely noticeable musculature of his chest. And his spots! He knew he had them on his arms, but he had no idea they were everywhere else, too!
He might as well have been a leopard.
Mic snapped his fingers at the dog, though, to catch his attention. "Second paw?" he asked as he held up the deck.
But it was Hunter, tossing their shirts aside, who responded, "Wait. You're dealing again?"
And Mic asked: "Does anyone else know how to shuffle?" And -- met with nothing but silence and averted glances -- he went right along shuffling, yet again. "I didn't think so! So what are we bettin' this time?"
To that, the tiger puffed up his chest in pride, "Well, thanks to my mad skills, you boys don't really have any choice but to bet your pants! So, even though I still have a shirt, how about I show solidarity and do the same?"
And Elliot definitely liked the sound of that: "Pants all around?"
"Pants all around!" Mic nodded happily, and quickly began to deal their second paw...
This time, things went a bit differently. Hunter's look of elation was nowhere to be seen. In fact, he looked down right worried. And Mic's poker face was gone, just the same: replaced with a thoughtful, furrowed brow. Elliot, meanwhile, had actually been dealt a slightly useful paw! Two eights, a jack, a six, and a nine!
He had two eights! Two of a kind! Or was that called a pair?
And after a pause, Mic broke free of his own thoughts to snap the husky free of his, "Elliot? You're up!"
"Three."
He didn't know how sound of a strategy it was. Perhaps he should have kept the jack. It was high enough, right? But he didn't. He dropped everything but his pair of eights, in the hopes of getting anything nice to go with them. And, to his amazement, he did! A useless four and pair of twos!
He had two pair now! Was that a good enough paw? Could actually win with it?
Meanwhile, Mic moved along: "Hunter?"
"Three..." the tiger grumbled with a sigh, and looked no more pleased with his replacements than with the cards he'd dropped.
"And, y'know what?" Mic added after a long moment of deliberation, "I'll ALSO take three!"
And despite the look of pure elation that washed over the hyena's face as he surveyed his new cards, Elliot remained jubilant and confident in his paw. "Let's see 'em!" he yelped happily as he slapped his eights & twos down onto the bed before them. "Two pair! That's a thing, right?"
"That it is, pup!" Mic nodded with a proud and friendly smile...but a smile which turned, quickly, to an impish smirk, "But, uhm...mine's bigger than yours." And with a wink, he displayed his own: two queens and two threes.
"Damn-it!" the husky barked...
...and the tiger to his right simply huffed, "You win," as he played his pair of fives.
"Then let's see them panties, boys!" Mic snapped his fingers and pointed -- one paw for each -- at the husky to his right and the tiger to his left.
And again, Elliot made the first move. Now, though, that was for a very different reason. Hunter's competitiveness wouldn't hold him back like Mic's had. Oh no. This time Elliot WAS the more eager of the two! This was quickly becoming serious. But not quickly enough for him...
So the husky stood and rocked the bed...and before he even reached for the button, he knew they could see his tent. He blushed. He wondered if they were nearly as excited as he was. He wondered if they would make fun of him for it. And he twitched at the thought of being so exposed and so vulnerable...as he unbuttoned, unzipped, and flashed his bright white -- and already stretched and dampened -- briefs to the leering eyes of his tiger and their hyena.
And as he tossed the pants aside and sat back down, he considered covering himself for a moment. He considered sitting in a way that he would be less...conspicuous. But instead, he spread his legs, with a wide and proud -- albeit blushing -- smile.
And he let them stare.
Especially Mic.
The hyena's eyes were soon drawn away, though, when the bed shook again, as Hunter stood to do the same. He unbuttoned. He unzipped. And they dropped to his ankles to expose his orange and black striped legs, his white inner thighs...and his bulge.
But that was all it was. A bulge. It was round, it was large, and it was stretching its cotton confinement as far and tight as it could. But it was only a bulge...not a tent. Hunter -- at least thus far -- wasn't even close to as excited as his husky...and a small part of Elliot wondered why.
But most of him simply noticed the boxer briefs.
Tight gray cotton hugged his tiger's bulge and the highest part of his muscular thighs. Boxer briefs! They were the husky's favorite. Hunter had always preferred looser boxers -- said they were more comfortable -- but Elliot had begged him time and again for something tighter. For this in particular. And here they were, clinging to those bright, striped thighs, and that soft, delicious bulge, only feet away...
Hunter had worn them for him!
Yet again, Mic spoke up and drew the dog back to reality, "Somebody's in trouble. This could be a bad paw for you."
He smiled, eyes on Elliot's tented briefs before he motioned around the group. And sure enough, he was right. Hunter still had his shirt. And Mic still had his pants. But all Elliot had left to lose was his underwear. He really wasn't doing so well.
Or was he?
"Ready for paw number three?" Mic asked. And, when his two friends simply nodded, he began to shuffle once more, "Looks like there's no show o' solidarity this time around, kiddos. Everyone'll just have to bet whatever they can." And a few quick shuffles later, he went right about dealing, "Pants."
"Underwear," Elliot, of course, had no choice...
...but Hunter did. "Underwear."
Elliot froze. The dealer froze. And -- in some weird way -- Elliot almost expected a dealt card to freeze, too, mid-air. Underwear? He'd chosen underwear when he could have just put his shirt on the line? Was he that eager to show off? Or was he being nice?
Was he making sure Elliot wasn't the only one in danger of being exposed?
With a whimper, Mic finished dealing, "Oh God, I hope I win this paw!"
The three boys gathered up their cards. And just like with the first paw, Elliot spent longer than he would have liked to admit, looking through his cards to figure out what he did or didn't have. An ace, a two, a seven, a six, and an eight? Nothing!
Except...wait! No! Six, seven, & eight? That's only two cards away from...what did they call it earlier? A straight! What else did he need? A four and a five? A nine and a ten? It probably wasn't likely. But it was definitely worth a chance!
Mic let out a long, disappointed sigh, "...okay." So much for that poker face of his. "Elliot?"
"Two."
Elliot prayed in silence as his replacements were dealt, and he even bit his lip as he slipped them into his paw. Would it work? Had it worked? A five and a nine? A five and a nine! It worked! Five, six, seven, eight, nine! He had his straight!
And, as the husky did his best not to celebrate out loud, Mic turned to the tiger, "Hunter?"
"Uhm...two?" he asked, his face showing almost as little emotion as Mic had shown in previous paws. The slightest hint of disappointment, though, still slipped through, at the sight of his replacements.
"And...fuck it! I'm takin' four," the hyena exclaimed, before trading out almost his entire paw...only to look even MORE disappointed after he did. "Damn! I really wanted to win this one, too!" He dropped his cards immediately. "I got nothin'."
Elliot, meanwhile, was nearly bouncing beside him, and couldn't wait a moment longer, "I got a straight! I got a straight!" He played his cards with a proud, toothy smile, "I finally won, right? Did I finally win?"
"Seriously? Am I really the first one showing off my bits tonight?" Hunter hung his head as he, too, played his paw: three twos, and two jacks. "And I was off to such a good start with that first paw, too. I thought I was gonna' be on a roll..."
straight away, the tiger's thumbs dug into the waistband of his tight, gray underwear. But before he'd even pulled the elastic away from his fur...
"Wait!" Mic halted him.
"Huh?"
"Elliot didn't win," he explained...
...and the husky blinked, "I...I didn't?"
"But he got a straight," Hunter argued. "And you said a straight beats three of a kind."
The hyena nodded, "It does. But that's not three of a kind." He pointed at Hunter's cards, "A three of a kind and a pair...is a full house."
"And..." Hunter's thumbs slowly withdrew from his waistband, "...a full house? That beats a straight."
"By a bit, yeah," Mic laughed...
...as Elliot let out a long groan, "I lost again?"
"Don't feel so bad. So did I," the hyena pointed out, with a affable grin as he began to unbutton and unzip.
"Yeah...but you're only losing your pants."
"True," Mic winked, and then went about tugging off those pants without even bothering to stand up.
Elliot, of course, couldn't give the display quite the attention it deserved. He was just too preoccupied with what he was about to have to do. But, still, he was far from blind to it! He saw those spotted leg and their boxers come into view. He saw the colorful silken pattern stretched and distorted by its tent. And he felt his eyes widen as he wondered about the monster beneath, which was big enough to make a tent that size.
And then he turned his eyes to Hunter, hoping to gage his reaction as well. Which was a simple task, it turned out, thanks to the tiger's own suddenly prominent and leaking bulge. It wasn't a tent to match Mic's, but it was there, nonetheless.
And for a moment...Elliot's fears came rushing back...
This was wrong. This was stupid. This was a mistake. Hunter and Mic agreed too easily. They liked one another too much. What if he never got the chance to enjoy this open relationship, but had given them the freedom to do so whenever they pleased? What if they only agreed to this threesome because they wanted to fool around with one ANOTHER? What if the only reason Hunter was finally tented...was because he could finally see more of Mic?
But it was only a moment. And he pushed it aside.
This was the right decision. This was for the best. This was that he wanted. His tiger and their hyena didn't agree too easily. Of course they liked each other, but they liked him, too. Hunter, in fact, loved him. If he didn't get the chance to enjoy being open, it would be his own fault for not trying hard enough. And, if it came to it, Hunter would agree to end all of this, at the drop of a hat. And they DID want him here! Mic had been begging to fool around with him for weeks! And as for this? The sight before him? So what if Mic was the one who finally made Hunter hard?
After all: how many times had Elliot been hard from looking at his own father?
And so...it was only a moment. And he pushed it aside.
Not a moment too soon, either, before Hunter spoke up, "Come on, Ell! This was your idea, hun. You can't back out, now!" The tiger leaned back, his striped legs spread out, and his soggy tent on display, "You owe us a show..."
And, of course, Elliot didn't argue. He didn't even speak. It was true, after all: he DID owe them a show. And so he stood -- uneasy upon the springy bed -- and he watched their eyes rise, as he rose. He hooked his waistband, just as Hunter had done moments before, and he peeled off the damp, white cotton.
Slowly, he rolled it down his hips, lifting and pulling outward to let his rigid, sticky, marble-red shaft peek free. It twitched in the air...its knot engorged but trapped, still, inside the sheath, and its tip dry from the cotton, but already oozing out more and more droplets of pre to remoisten the flesh...
And he rolled his briefs farther and farther down, exposing his bright white sack, and pushing the twisted cotton down his legs until they'd inched past his thighs and could fall on their own. But he knew, despite keeping his own eyes on the task at paw, that Hunter and Mic were NOT looking at his briefs.
And he loved the feeling!
He loved being exposed and stared at. Loved being the center of attention, and knowing that he had become -- even if only for the moment -- the evening's entertainment. He was embarrassed and exposed. Vulnerable and tense. Frightened and overjoyed!
And he wondered what it would be like in the future. Tonight, he knew they were all in this together. He knew they, too, would be nude, soon enough. And he wondered what it would be like if he DIDN'T know. How would he handle his fear with friends less familiar? With someone who might not join him...or who was simply looking to humiliate him or play some prank. Would that fear be exhilarating? Would he be able to cope it if it went wrong?
And why was the mere thought making him harder by the second?
With his briefs kicked aside, he stood proud and burning red, looking down at his boyfriend and their friend, and watched their eyes scan his entire frame, shoulder to toe. Hunter's tent had grown, lifting and folding the shirt he still hadn't lost, hanging above it.
See? He knew the tiger wasn't just reacting to Mic.
And as for Mic?
True to brazen form, he was already shamelessly groping himself through his boxers -- his last bit of clothing -- as he spoke up, "Well I guess that's it for the game."
"Told you it'd be fast," Hunter reminded the hyena...
...who quickly added, "So, what should we do with our husky now that he's lost?"
Elliot, though, put a stop to that immediately. "Whoa! This game isn't over, yet," he smiled. "I still get one more paw!"
"How do you figure?" Hunter arched an eyebrow.
"It'll be like my...last chance round." Elliot explained: "if I win, I get to put something back on, and both of you lose your underwear!"
"Hey!" Mic argued, "You said the winner didn't get to put anything back on."
"More importantly," Hunter added, "our underwear? I still have a shirt I could take off, first!"
And just like that, Mic was suddenly on Elliot's side, "Oh, come on, Hunter! But you were so brave last paw!"
"Yeah!" Elliot agreed. "You're not turning into a big pussy...cat on us, are you?"
"Fine!" Hunter gave in, but pointed a finger up at his husky, "But what if you lose your little 'last chance round'?"
Mic's brow furrowed, and he turned his eyes on the dog, as well, "Hey! Yeah! You don't have any clothes left to bet."
But Elliot just grinned back, "I'll suck the winner's dick!"
"Shuffle. Now," Hunter turned and demanded...
...but Mic was already picking up the cards as he spoke, "Already on it."
And the hyena shuffled his quickest, yet...so much so, that Elliot had barely sat back down before he was dealing, again. No one spoke. They simply took their cards and pressed along. And Elliot, on the very first deal, already found himself with four of a kind!
There in his fingers were all four fours! This was the very paw he would have killed for just minutes earlier. But now? This round? He'd known before he even saw his cards...
...that he intended to lose.
So before Mic could even ask, Elliot dropped two of those fours to the bed with a barely contained smile, "Two." And to his perverse delight...they were replaced with a king and a queen.
Perfect! One of them would be sure to beat him, now...
"Three." Not waiting for Mic to ask him, either, Hunter confidently flung down his old cards and collected the new. And a smirk lit upon his muzzle at the sight of the completed paw...
...while Mic, as always, traded out his own, "...and two." But the instant they were in his fingers, he drew in a breath and recoiled. He eyes shot wide. His jaw fell slack. And the cards nearly bent in his grasp.
Hunter was smiling. Mic was stunned. And Elliot felt himself flex and leak at the sight. There was no question, now. They would beat his meager, little pair. One of them would win! One of them would have him by his ears, soon enough. One of them would breed his muzzle while the other watched.
And he honestly didn't care which...
So he smiled and licked his lips as he played the paw: "Two of a kind."
And to his right, Hunter flashed a huge, white, and predatory gin, "THREE of a kind!" And as his three sixes hit the bed, Elliot could have sworn he saw the cat's tent jump.
But, unfortunately for Hunter -- and for his writhing tent -- Mic still hadn't played his paw. And so they both turned their eyes upon the tremoring and grinning hyena. They both watched his arm drop, and his cards fan out across the bed...
...as he spoke in a muted rasp: disbelief mingling with lustful elation. "Flush..." the cards lay in no real sequence, but they were all spades, "...I win."
Mic's eyes, sharp but unsure, were motionless, locked on Elliot's. Elliot himself, though, looked away. He looked to Hunter, where expected to find protest...expected a demand of proof. The tiger had accused Mic, already, of potentially lying about the paws: of cheating. And Elliot expected, now if ever, would be that time. He expected Hunter to dispute the ruling.
But he did not.
He must have known enough to know that the hyena was telling the truth. His flush beat Hunter's sixes. Mic had won the husky's muzzle. And so, instead, all his tiger could do was shift his eyes from the hyena's throbbing tent to his lover's damp, open mouth...and back again. And Elliot imagined what Hunter must have imagined: the image of the two together. The image of Mic slipping in between those lips...
So he turned. There was no protest. So there was no reason to wait. He turned, he gathered and stacked the cards, and he pushed them aside. The stack fell...but he didn't correct it. He only needed it out of his way, after all, not neatly arranged.
And Mic's eyes finally broke away as the husky crawled across the bed. They flitted back and forth, again and again, from Elliot's nude, crawling form, to Hunter, where he sat by the headboard. Mic was nervous. He was worried. And no matter how much he wanted it, he was uneasy doing it here and now, right in front of the tiger.
Elliot knew. And it would have been easy to pretend he didn't care how the hyena felt...but that would have been a lie. He did care. He cared very much about the fact that his friend was anxious, scared, and on edge. But the truth was: he liked it.
He loved watching Mic squirm.
"You know..." the husky growled softly, as he stopped before the hyena, "I can't do this if you don't get up."
"Right!" Mic blinked and shook his head, as if coming out of a trance. "Right..." he repeated, shooting Hunter one last glance, before inching backward and standing up at the side of the bed.
He was jittery, and he was nervous, but he was expectant. Notably one part of him, in particular. And that part swung there before the husky's muzzle, moving with the beat of his friend's heart, and hanging high over the edge of the bed.
Knelt there on the mattress, Elliot looked over that spotted frame, from his head to where his legs disappeared behind bed's edge. He could see what Hunter saw in him. He could see the attraction. But what he REALLY wanted to see still lay behind the silk. And so the dog took hold of the waistband, ready to tug it down and take his prize.
Or rather...ready to give Mic HIS.
But before he'd even moved the elastic band more than an inch, a thought crossed his mind. "Underwear," he commanded, abrupt and direct, his eyes jerking to face the tiger by the pillows.
And Hunter was jolted, caught off guard, "Huh? What?"
"Your underwear," his boyfriend repeated, paw still gripping the elastic. "You lost the paw, too, and you agreed to put them on the line. So the rules say that I can't show you Mic," he tugged down ever so slightly on the silk, revealing the barest inch of the fur below his waist, "until he gets to see you."
But it was Mic, not Hunter, who protested, "I really don't mind."
"Hey!" Elliot looked up through a playful grin, "Rules are rules."
And as the hyena whined aloud...
...the tiger chuckled, "That eager to see me?"
"Oh, that's not what he's eager for," Elliot corrected him...
...and turned back to see Hunter already at work shimmying free of his gray cotton prison. He tugged and twisted, leaned back and kicked his feet, clearly in no mood to put on a show. And Elliot was fine with that. The show was HIS job, after all, not Hunter's.
And as soon as the boxers were off, and his lover's rigid, red, barbed shaft was exposed, Elliot turned back to the task at paw. He wanted to savor the moment. He wanted to take his time revealing what would only be the third cock, other than his own, that he had ever seen this close...ever touched, and smelled, and tasted.
But he didn't. Watching his boyfriend and their hyena strip throughout the game -- and stripping for them just the same -- had teased him enough. And he knew that Mic would agree.
And so he pulled the boxers out and down, hooking the waist under the hyena's ample brown sack, and releasing the towering beast beneath. The glistening monument of flesh put his own to shame. It put Hunter's, Will's, and his father's to shame, in fact. And the scent set his mouth to drool. But amidst it all, he had to stifle a laugh. No one wants someone's first reaction at seeing their dick to be laughter. But it was just so hard to contain...
...because -- black and pink splotched -- even IT was spotted.
He grasped his friend's hips and leaned in, tongue flicking out and exploring the shaft from its tip to its base. It was a tart and powerful taste, to match a sharp and potent smell. Was it better than Hunter? Than Will? Did it matter? It was new! And, tonight, it was his.
And so he trailed his tongue up and down the flesh. And he felt Mic wobble in his grasp. He nuzzled the furry sack and rubbed himself against the shaft, smearing its leaking fluids into the fur of his cheek. And he felt the hyena grab hold of his shoulders. He wedged his nose between those balls and the silk anchored beneath, bathing himself in the scent. And he felt his friend pull him close. He finally took it into his mouth, ravenous and deep, letting it slide across his tongue and tickle his throat. And he felt two paws grip his ears.
Soon enough, there was a rhythm: Mic pulling those ears as the husky dived in, and shuddering as he pulled away. Soon, Elliot felt the flared head pushing into his throat, and saw the hips drawing ever closer to -- though still so far from -- tapping his nose. And soon...
...Elliot pulled away completely.
There was resistance of course. But, with a long, quivering whine, Mic did let him go. And the husky grinned as he licked his lips. He wanted to torture him. He wanted to tease him and edge him along. He wanted to make him beg. He wanted to put him through every last moment, right there in front of their audience. And he wanted to watch the hyena twist in the wind.
And so, his paw gripping that spotted shaft, he dropped his muzzle low. He nuzzled those balls yet again, and turned his eyes upon his audience. First upon the stiff, red flesh between his legs, then up across the shirt he'd never lost to the game, and finally to his face. But when he saw that face, it gave him pause.
The look. Those drooping lids, and that sullen mouth. The sudden averted gaze as Elliot's eyes met his. He was hurt. All this time, Elliot had been so focused on the hyena -- so focused on making their friend uncomfortable for his own entertainment -- that he'd completely forgotten how any of this might make his lover feel. He was so enjoying watching Mic worry that this might bother Hunter...that he didn't stop to think that it might ACTUALLY bother Hunter.
And so he stopped, and lifted his head, "Hun? Are you okay?" But despite his concern, his paw never left the hyena's shaft.
"I'll, uhm..." Hunter stammered to answer, "I'm fine."
"No you're not," Elliot shook his head...
...and the tiger, at first, looked poised to deny, "I just..." But quickly lowered his shoulders and asked: "Look, it's okay if it's a yes, but...is this like...revenge?"
"Revenge?" Elliot recoiled.
"This," Hunter pointed at the scene. "Me having to watch this. Are you...?" He paused and shrugged, "It feels like you're trying to punish me or something. Making me just sit here, uninvolved, and watch you do something with someone else? It's like you're trying to get back at me."
Gently, Mic pull back and the husky finally let go of his shaft...
"Is it bothering you that much to see this?" Elliot asked. "I didn't think that it..."
To his side, the hyena began to pull his boxers back up, but-
"No!" Hunter answered...
...end Elliot quickly grabbed hold of the silk to stop their friend from covering himself, "No?"
"It's not like...it's not the act itself. I don't mind that," the tiger explained. "I agreed to the open relationship thing, and even if I hadn't...this is a threesome and I'm here. But, just...the thought that you might be doing this out of spite. The thought that you're still upset...and that something like this could be used for-"
"No," Elliot stopped him. "This is just him collecting his winnings, Hunter." To punctuate himself, he took hold of the spotted flesh once more, "Nothing else. I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm not angry. And I'm NOT doing this out of spite."
"Are you sure?"
The husky nodded, "If it's bothering you, we can stop this right now and laugh at Mic for being blue balled..."
"Hey!" Mic complained.
"Or..." Elliot calmed the hyena with a gentle stroke. But his eyes remained on his lover...and on the tiger's still rigid and twitching meat, "...you can get up, come over here, and see if Mic'll be nice enough to share his winnings."
Above him, Mic whispered, again and again, repeating: "Oh, please say yes..."
...while Hunter smiled a hopeful smile, "Really?"
"Really."
And so Hunter slipped from the bed, stood, and joined them at Mic's side.
Elliot was in heaven! He'd dreamed of this. He'd prayed for this. He'd masturbated to this time and again. It wasn't always these two cocks in particular, of course. It wasn't even always limited to just TWO, in fact. But having these two males standing over him, with their leaking dicks inches from his face? It was everything he'd ever dreamed.
Their scents mingled in his nose, as his paw took hold of his boyfriend's sticky, barbed rod. He stroked them both, there, one in each paw, and his eyelids fluttered closed. His world became a blur. All he could smell was them. All he could think was how they wanted him. How he was theirs. How he would be used and abused. And how he would make them cum...
He could still taste Mic on his lips when Hunter slipped into his muzzle. There were fingers on his head, forcing him down -- he didn't know whose -- and Mic swelled in his stroking paw. He bobbed there for a time, before pulling away to nuzzle and lick...to paint himself in his lover's pre, before taking the hyena in again. And as he sucked and stroked, three paws were in his head fur, now, pushing him on. And he let them. It burrowed into his throat. He gagged. He couldn't breathe. But he let them. And as Mic's groin pressed against his nose, he felt Hunter grinding against his cheek.
He had to pull back. He had to breathe. And of course, he had to turn his attention to the insistent shaft against his face...
And so it continued: on and on. First one, then the other. Each of them fucked his throat. Each told him what a great job he was doing, both for themselves and for their friend. And neither one went a moment without attention. When one was on his tongue and in his throat, the other was in his paw. And even, for a moment, both of their heads were forced in between his lips, fighting with one another -- and with his tongue -- for position.
But soon, it changed. His arms grew tired, and he found himself holding their hips just to keep himself from falling. And so, when Mic rammed his throat and Hunter's paw was in his hair, pushing him down...it was MIC's paw that was stroking Hunter! And when the tiger's pre was dripping onto Elliot's tongue, that tiger returned the favor, and took the hyena into HIS palm...
His jaw grew sore. His fur dried and matted. He panted and whined. And by the time they came, he could barely hold himself up. Hunter pumped Mic's massive shaft, while Mic teased his. And Elliot's arms had fallen near limp, as he watched them swell in one another's paws.
Mic fired first, a white rope exploding from his tip and splattering the husky's shoulder and cheek. And Elliot turned, catching the second volley from mid air in his open maw, as Hunter thrust that spotted shaft in his paw, plunging it forward, into his boyfriend's lips. Elliot obeyed his tiger's silent command, and felt the hyena spasm and fill his muzzle. He swallowed it all.
And as he felt another set of streams splash against his ear, his neck, and his chest -- as he felt his lover, from Mic's paw, unload into his fur at the mere sight of him swallowing their friend's load -- he could take no more.
And he erupted. He hadn't touched himself once, and neither had they. He had heard about this. He had read about it. But he'd never believed it. Never once had he came paws-free. Never once had anything turned him on so much that he simply spilled his load. But tonight he did. Again and again his knotted shaft flexed and bounced, sending line after line of thick white cum out along the bed, the floor beside it, and -- as he would soon learn -- Mic's legs.
The hyena slipped free of his muzzle, and Elliot collapsed, falling back, sticky, stained, and tired, onto the stack of cards. But he didn't care. Mic didn't say a word, but he followed suit: toppling beside the dog and burying his face in his fluffy cheek, where he groaned and panted, as he lapped up Hunter's...deposit.
Elliot giggled.
And slowly, Hunter climbed in beside them, as well, to breathlessly ask, "You really are okay, aren't you?"
"I really am," the husky nodded, craning his neck to Mic's rooting and licking. "So..." he smiled, "...when do I get to meet Donald?"
~
Just an average night.
So far, that was all this Saturday had been for Aaron Jones: a nice, relaxing night on the town with his lover. With William Masters. They'd dropped Elliot off with Hunter. They'd had a meal. They'd seen a movie. And their next stop was home, to retire to the comfort of their shared apartment...their shared bed.
Not long ago -- almost more recently than the rabbit could even believe, himself -- the activities of his 'average nights' had been something quite different. Something more akin to the activities they'd left Elliot to, only hours ago. And if he had known what'd become of Elliot, Hunter, and their hyena friend, behind Stanley's closed doors...
...it wouldn't have affected his night at all.
He may have been nostalgic, of course. Who wouldn't? But jealous? Envious? No. No cloud of regret would have hung over his evening. He wouldn't have spent it resenting his lover, or wishing for a return to happier, freer days. He had had those times. And he had had his fill. And, though they were fun, he had chosen his new life. He was happy...because he had the one thing he wanted:
Will.
And now, free of their car, past the stairs, and pushing through the door to their apartment, Will pressed on with this evening's debate: "I promise you: the book was better."
But Aaron just rolled his eyes as he closed the door behind them, "How could it have been better? It still starred a kid, right?" He shrugged and tossed his jacket aside, "I just don't like action movies about little kids..."
"He wasn't exactly 'little'."
"Younger than Elliot..."
And the dog chuckled in his adorably condescending way: "His actor's a little older, actually!"
But from the living room, Kristoff's voice joined the fray, "Just give it up, Aaron. You'll never convince him." The elder husky stood and stretched, to greet his returning brother and his leporid lover, "And you should learn to get used to this, too. He'll be taking you to see this 'young adult' crap, forever!"
"Hey!" William protested...
...but his elder brother just waved him off, "Oh, be offended later! I have much more important things to talk about than some sci-fi movie." He laughed softly through an open smile, "Robyn is already at it again!"
Will arched an eyebrow, "And why is that a reason to smile?"
"Because it's getting to the point that it's fucking ludicrous!" Kris threw up his paws as he padded toward the kitchen, with his brother and Aaron not far behind. "I mean, really. It's laughable: pathetic even. If she keeps this up, she's going to make an idiot out of herself."
"What's she doing, now?" the younger dog asked...
"She's turned her guns on YOU!"
...and he recoiled, from the finger suddenly in his face, "Me?"
"Yeah!" Kristoff laughed aloud. "She realized that she couldn't convince anyone that I'd raped my son, so now she's claiming that YOU did! And on top of that, she's claiming that...this house is unsafe because you and Aaron are in a gay relationship, or whatever." He shook his head, speaking through a continued muted laugh as he fished a drink from the fridge, "Anyone with half a brain can see she's just grasping at straws, at this point."
Clearly, Kris was beside himself. Finally, every bit of seriousness this situation had once held -- every bit of sober threat it had carried -- was lost on him. Lost, as he'd said moments before, to how ludicrous it had all become.
And as Aaron looked on, he understood why. He imagined it was the healthiest response, and -- given what Kristoff did and did not know -- the most sensible. But Aaron wasn't just watching Kris. He was also watching the blank and terrified expression overtaking his boyfriend's face.
And so, the rabbit spoke up, "Uhm...how can she even do that?"
"Huh?" Kristoff turned to face him...
...and Aaron explained: "Like, I mean...is this even allowed? Doesn't making a new accusation like this undermine her old one? Isn't there some point at which they have to tell her no?"
"Oh! But, that's the best part, Aaron," the husky declared with enthusiasm. "She's claiming that she has some sort of 'proof,' now! Evidence that me or Will actually did something to him.
"Proof!?" William yelped.
And Aaron felt himself rock back -- felt himself reel and teeter -- but not nearly as much as he could SEE that his lover had. Proof? Proof was the last word they needed to hear. Accusations were one thing. Inquiries were another. But evidence? Proof? For William and Aaron...that was a far more dangerous word.
"H-how exactly is this good news?" the rabbit asked, since he knew his lover could not.
"Because we're innocent!" Kris exclaimed. "Nothing has happened, at all. So whatever 'proof' she thinks she has, won't do anything but exonerate us! Especially once we find out what her 'proof' is, and we and Elliot can defend against it." He took a sip of his newly gotten drink and leaned back against the counter, "It's good news, because it means that ALL of this will be over soon, and we can finally prove that she's just full of shit! Once this is done...no one will ever listen to her, again."
But not everyone in the room was so sure. Because not everyone in the room was innocent. For one of them, exoneration was the last thing evidence should hope to bring. Kris, of course, had no idea. But Aaron and Will knew better. Knew the truth.
And as their 'average night' crumbled around them, Kristoff continued: "She doesn't know it...but we've already won."
~
And Sibirskaia continues...
* This particular chapter (and the rest of Sibirskaia) was written entirely by Oloroso Rhone. But it was based on characters and story lines I created jointly with my friend Phil Anthro Pist
If you'd like to go say hi to Phil, he's got an account on here at http://phil-anthro-pist.sofurry.com/
*
And you were all so damn convinced that Elliot had made a stupid decision! I dunno. Seems to have worked out pretty well for him so far... ^__^
But either way...
The second arc of Sibirskaia ends here.
These six chapters have been Act 1 of Sibirskaia. Blood & Water: these chapters have been about family and friends, and what those people -- and those words -- mean to our cast. And it ends on this.
Hunter's only remaining family are his friends: Stanley, Elliot, and Mic. And Elliot's family is being stretched to its limits. With Robyn's constant accusations, how much longer can they keep this all together?
...especially now that she's turned those accusations on the one person who's actually guilty.
Join me on the road to finding out in Sibirskaia Chapter 11: Part 1 of 5 of "No More Lies"
Anyway, thanks for reading!
I welcome any feedback. Comment or PM me here, or email me at theottercoon[at]gmail.com
And if you enjoyed this chapter, and want to support my efforts to write more, I welcome any donations you would be willing to give
See you around for the next 20 chapters of Sibirskaia!