Peanut Butter
"Hey, Mom, can I invite some company over?"
A completely innocuous question, but time halted for several moments as Emily turned and gazed down at her son, her arm frozen in the air, comb pulling at her light brown hair. In all the years the boy had been going to school, he had never once asked that a friend come to visit, and she had worried, despite his reassurances to the contrary, that he was not acclimating well with others. Her fears had been substantiated and reinforced a few years prior when her son had come home beaten by delinquent children and left crying, and yet again only a week and a half ago, redoubled by the recent bruise on the side of his snout. Her heart swelled with fear, anxiety and pride as she let herself breathe and time started to flow again.
"It's not a girl, is it?" she teased, nudging the smaller red panda with her elbow and smiling at him. Her jest was as much an attempt to steady her nerves as it was lighthearted fun.
"No, just my friend, Erii!"
When her son spoke, she let out a sigh of relief. In truth, she'd dreaded the day, a day since passed, when her son would reach puberty and start down the path of becoming an adult. Her greatest fear, one that kept her up at all odd hours of the night, was that her son would end up on the streets, a hoodlum, a delinquent. She worried he would give in to the pressure of those around him, people who didn't hold his best interest to heart. The world of sex, drugs and violence frightened her, and she'd tried her very best to keep him sheltered from the horrors of that world. She gazed at the mirror, focusing on her reflection as she listened to her son prattle on in that awkward, endearing way, catching only tidbits of relevant information. When had she grown so serious? She knew the answer, and fought to keep her muzzle from flinching.
"When's he coming over, this Erii?" she interrupted her son, mid-sentence, all too eager to break her train of thought. "Have you cleaned your room yet? You don't want your friend to see you living in a pigsty, do you?"
"Oh, um, I guess not!" her son squeaked before rushing into his room. In the bathroom where she stood, she could hear sounds of him shuffling his clothes around, and she allowed herself a moment to savor it. There was energy in his voice, something she'd not gotten to hear in a long time. Whoever this friend, this Erii, was, he must be someone pretty special to make her son willingly clean his room, something she'd never been able to do in over fourteen years.
Emily watched her reflection gaze back her. The past ten years had been rough on her, and though she'd not even turned thirty-four yet, she looked as her mother did when she was in her mid-forties. The past few years had seen her working two jobs; a medical assistant for a dingy emergency care clinic in the morning and a fast food waitress at night, and rest was something that continually eluded her. "It's okay," she whispered to herself, smiling. "It's worth it."
It was all for him, her shining star. No matter what the burden, she was happy, eager even, to conquer it for him, and she considered herself blessed that he had remained a sweet and loving boy. Whenever things got rough, all she'd have to do is remember his smiling face, and suddenly, she'd have the energy to make it through to the next day. Things could always be worse.
"Sweetie, do you want me to order a pizza for you?" Pizzas were expensive, but this was a special occasion. Emily forced herself not to think about it in terms of hours; a single large pizza would set her back two hours pre-tax, three hours post-tax. Today, she only worked six hours.
"No!" her son's light voice called back. "I can make somethin' in the kitchen! We still got peanut butter, right, Mom?"
"Have," Emily corrected. "Do we still have peanut butter, and yes, we do." If her son didn't want to spend extravagantly, she wasn't going to protest. She finished with her hair, smoothed the fur lining her cheeks and tucked her shirt into her pants, smoothing out any wrinkles. "I'm off to work, honey," she called out, pulling on an old jacket, grabbing her bag and looping it over her shoulder. "Be good and don't get into trouble, okay? Call the restaurant if you need something." She had full confidence those words were unnecessary. She was a very lucky woman to have such a wonderful, obedient child. She left the bathroom and stuck her head into her son's room. "Wow, I can see the floor," she joked, startling her son and causing him to fumble the pair of pants he was folding.
"Mom!" he protested, his cheeks flushed. "Don't do that!"
"I just wanted you to know I was heading out. I love you, Max," Emily said, reaching out and pulling the red panda close, kissing him on his forehead.
Max beamed up at her and wrapped his arms around her waist, squeezing for a quarter of a minute before reluctantly letting go. "Love you, too, Mom."
~~~***~~~
When a series of knocks echoed through the apartment, Max's heart jumped into his throat, and he fought to swallow it back down. His stomach churned and for a brief moment, he felt ill. "J-just a second," he hollered, slicing off the crust from the last of the four peanut butter sandwiches he'd prepared and arranged on a plate. He dumped the knife in the sink and carried the plate out into the living room, setting it on the coffee table, before heading over towards the door. With each step he took, it got harder to breathe, and he was breathless by the time his fingers twisted the bolt lock and pulled the door open, greeted by a blast of chilly air.
"So this is where you live, huh?" Max's cheeks flushed as they'd become accustomed to doing whenever he saw Erii. The piye dragon wore a tight fitting shirt with dark sleeves that came down to his forearms and equally tight black jeans and hightops. He stood casually, his arms resting behind his head, his posture slouched and lazy. "Gonna let me in or what? It's kinda cold out here."
In comparison, Max's clothes were a size too big and hung loosely from his body. His sleeves were bunched up, long enough that they'd otherwise cover his hands, and his t-shirt, made of cotton, had developed holes where baby moths had eaten through. His glasses had been twisted back into shape, the weak joints reinforced by glue, and the red panda pushed them back up as they tried to slide down his snout again. "Oh, yeah, sure, whatever. Come on in, Erii!" he said, trying not to sound half as excited as he really was, and yet, his voice still broke with his eagerness. He tried and failed to mimic Erii's relaxed stance, moving as rigidly as a robot in dire need of oil.
The dragon looked back over his shoulder, as if he were looking for someone, and after a moment's surveillance he seemed satisfied and stepped through. "Nice...uh... place, I guess," he said, forcing the compliment. A giant portrait of a red panda that looked a lot like Max if he were in the military hung on the wall right next to the door. "Who's this guy?" Erii asked. "Your dad or somethin'?"
"Uh huh," Max said, around the corner and out of sight. He was hunched over in front of the TV, twisting the knobs and adjusting the antenna, trying to pull up his favorite station. "I don't really remember much about him, though."
"Why? He jet out on ya or somethin'?"
"He died a long time ago...oh, hey, Erii!" Max peeked around the corner and smiled at the dragon. "I made some peanut butter sandwiches. They're on the table. Just take off your shoes so you don't track dirt in, okay?"
"Whatever, dude," Erii said, though he complied. He hunched over and unlaced and kicked off his sneakers, stretching out his toes. He followed Max into the living room and crashed on the sofa, splaying his arms out. "Ya cut the crusts off?" he asked, incredulously. "What are ya, seven?"
"I just thought you might like it," Max said sheepishly, sitting next to Erii, his paws crossed in his lap. His stomach churned with butterflies. Whenever his mom made sandwiches, she always cut off the crust. Her words echoed in his mind, and he repeated them in an almost inaudible mumble. "When you care about someone, you care about the food you make for them...."
"You're a dork," Erii chided playfully, reaching over and snagging one of the triangles. In truth, he'd always loved when the crust was removed, but he couldn't remember the last time someone had willingly made something for him out of anything but a sense of duty. "Not too bad," he said nonchalantly, draping his arm over Max's shoulder. The sandwich disappeared way too quickly, and so did the next two triangles he grabbed. "I mean, it's not like they're hard ta make, but they weren't that bad at all."
Max's cheeks flushed at the heavy-handed compliment. "I could make you some more if you wanted," he offered. There wasn't much bread left, and he'd have to make it last until his mom's next paycheck, but that wasn't too far away. He could go a few days without eating an after-school snack. When Erii shrugged his shoulders, the red panda stood up and went back into the kitchen. He paused by the sink, holding on to the countertop, his heart beating faster and faster. His cheeks were so flushed, they practically glowed. "You can do this," he whispered to himself, trying to settle his anxiety by focusing on washing and cleaning the previously used butter knife. "If he didn't wanna come, he wouldn't have, right? You're just hanging out. It's not a big deal."
His body disagreed, and his paws shook as he spread peanut butter and apple jelly over white bread, covering every bit that he could. He took meticulous care not to spill anything, and he placed the slices of bread so they fit perfectly over each other. He wiped the knife clean again with a washrag then sliced the edges of the crust, trimming as lightly and evenly as he could, taking a deep breath to steady himself after each slice. He made another three sandwiches, using up what was left of the bread, and then sliced each sandwich in half, making as perfect a triangle as he could. He stuffed the crust trimmings into his mouth and then carried the cleaned plate back into the living room where the dragon awaited.
Erii had kicked back on the sofa, his feet on the coffee table. His eyes were fixated on the TV, his eyebrows pointed and furrowed in confusion. "What the fuck did'ja put on?" he asked.
The red panda sat beside him, the plate in his lap. "Oh, this is Red Dwarf! It's one of my favorite shows! It always comes on around this time!"
"But they're talking with that really weird accent. It's pretty dumb."
"Yeah, but this channel shows the BBC, so we get to see some things from the UK and stuff." Max grinned and started pointing out the characters. "So, that guy's Lister, he's the main character, and that one's name is Cat. He's like... um... if a cat turned human, I guess. That weird looking guy is Kryten, who's actually a robot. His head can detach and stuff! And that smeghead with the 'H' on his forehead is Rimmer. The 'H' stands for hologram, basically. It's a human show so all the characters are basically human."
Reaching over, Erii plucked one of the triangles and started munching on it, his eyes not leaving the screen. "What the hell does 'smeg' mean?"
"Um...." Max scratched his head. "I dunno, really. They just use it all the time and it's gotta be bad, right? Anyways, Lister was frozen in stasis for over three million years, so...." The red panda prattled on for another twenty minutes, explaining the intricacies of the plot and the interactions of the characters. His tail swayed as he spoke with enthusiasm, switching from the actual plot of the show to the behind-the-scenes history and makings of. Five was the minimum number of times he'd seen each episode, some a lot more than that. Red Dwarf was his absolute favorite show.
"Fuuuuuck...." Erii groaned, doing little to mask his boredom and accenting a yawn to make his point.
Max's muzzle snapped shut mid-sentence, and his heart started racing again. "I mean, this show's alright, I guess," he said, switching gears, his voice low and cautious. "I mean, this is just a rerun, so I guess we could watch something else if you don't like it."
"Fuckin' liar," the dragon said. He stretched out, an arm casually resting on Max's shoulder. His tail flopped lazily on the other side. "Look, dude, ya don't gotta try to impress me. You don't have to fuckin' lie about it. It's your show, I get that. Ya just don't have to fuckin' talk through the whole thing. Just lemme watch. I'm notta idiot. It's not like it has some super deep plot."
The chastisement stung, and Max folded his ears back, cradling his arms and staring at what remained of the peanut butter sandwiches he'd made. "I'm sorry," he said softly, his voice starting to break.
The shift in tone didn't go unnoticed. "Fuck, dude, don't start cryin' on me," Erii demanded, wrapping his arm around the red panda. "Seriously, why the fuck do ya apologize for shit? Ya didn't do anythin' wrong, so what the fuck?"
"I'm sorry, I just... I wanted to make sure you had a good time and stuff." Max slumped against the dragon. Somewhere, deep inside his mind, he couldn't believe he was here, lying against the very one whom he'd dreamed about. His burning cheeks started to ache, but he didn't feel close to crying anymore. His paws slipped around the lithe dragon's waist, and he found himself squeezing against the other boy. His glasses pressed uncomfortably against his face, but he didn't care. The closer to Erii he was, the better he felt.
Perhaps it was the dragon's scent that he found so soothing. He didn't dare call it familiar, though he desperately wanted to believe that was why he enjoyed it so much. For the sixth time in half as many weeks, he found himself immersed in Erii's scent; masculine, youthful, energetic. It permeated the air, filling his nostrils whenever he inhaled. His body tingled, and hopelessness he'd felt only seconds earlier quickly started to vanish.
"Not havin' a bad time," Erii said, a mischievous tone to his voice, and Max felt his shoulder being shaken. He looked up to see the dragon grinning at him. "Though, I'm kinda bored, tbh."
"Tee Bee Aitch?" Max asked, confused, repeating the letters.
"To be honest, whatever." Erii shook his head, trying to ignore the fact that Max didn't know the simple acronym. His grabbed Max's other shoulder and started pushing the boy backwards, his tail whipping around like a cat ready to pounce. "So what, huh?" he asked, his hand tracing down Max's belly until it reached the edge of his shirt. His fingers curled around the fabric, lifting it up and exposing the red panda's dark brown fur. They traced through the thick, luscious fur, drawing an airy gasp from Max. "How're ya gonna entertain me?"
"E-entert..." Max stammered, but his words left him as Erii's hand snaked higher and higher, over his ribs, up his chest, until his shirt was pulled up and over his head. His mind waged war with itself; right here, right now, on the very same couch that his mother slept on just a few hour ago? He wanted it so badly, and yet, it felt so wrong. "I'unno about this..." he whimpered, his arms hanging over the armrest of the sofa, bound still by his bunched up shirt. He gazed up at Erii, the dragon's crystal blue eyes glinting with desire.
Erii crawled forward, straddling the other boy, his hands on Max's chest. "What? Not in the mood?" he asked coyly, grinding his hips against the other boy.
"Erii...." A sensation stronger than any Max had ever felt before rocked his body, radiating from his groin, rolling from the tips of his paws, up his calves and thighs and out to his fingertips. So strong was this feeling that his whole body began to ache. His pants tented painfully, encouraged by the dragon's escalating motions, and only seconds had passed before the first hints of dampness began to seep through, staining the denim around his zipper. He writhed underneath his friend, glasses fogged from the heat rising from his muzzle. "Ah, Erii," Max whined, shuffling his legs together. "W-would you--"
His words were stolen from him suddenly and without warning when Erii reached down, cupped his muzzle with his hand and locked lips with him. For a fraction of a second, Max's mind shattered; so shocked was he that at first, he laid there, motionless, unable to comprehend what was happening, but when Erii started to pull away, Max's pushed back, looping his arms over Erii's neck and keeping the dragon from moving away. Their lips pressed firmly against each other, breaking only for sparse moments before coming back together again until Erii's long tongue began to ease its way into Max's muzzle. The tongue, an eager explorer, searched the whole of the red panda's maw, brushing against his teeth, grazing and wrestling with his tongue and teasing the roof of his mouth until Max head to retreat, fighting a wave of giggles that erupted from him. As the laughter died down, Erii looked down at the red panda, pulling his glasses free from his snout and tossing them haphazardly on the coffee table. Max squinted by habit, though he was nearsighted and could still see the dragon clearly.
Amidst his peaking arousal, another emotion filled Max's chest. He opened his mouth, words on the tip of his tongue, but yet, he could not say them. As Erii shifted from his mouth to his neck, nibbling lightly and drawing ever more moans from the red panda, a single pervasive question floated in his mind. 'Why?' Why couldn't he ask? Why couldn't he tell the dragon what he felt? Was it not time yet? How long did he have to wait? Did Erii feel the same? He came, didn't he? That has to stand for something, right?
"Heh, ya make funny sounds," Erii teased, nipping Max a bit harder to prove his point. When his squeaks started turning into moans, the dragon slipped his hand down, unfastening the button to Max's jeans and exposing the red panda's absolutely soaked briefs, resting his fingers at the apex of the tented fabric. He twirled his fingers around, rubbing the cotton against the unseen flesh underneath, and the louder Max moaned and the more violently he writhed, the more aggressive Erii's contrectations. Deftly, he parted folds of the fabric, and Max gasped when finally, his malehood slipped through and stood proudly, the foreskin pulled back slightly, and thick shimmering fluid oozing freely from his tip.
Erii's fingers curled around Max's shaft, eliciting yet another moan from the boy. He gripped firmly, but didn't squeeze, and after just two pumps, Max's toes had curled, and he'd slipped his arms out of his shirt, his wrists pressed against his chest. The red panda's eyes were squeezed shut as he tried his best to fend off the building pressure. "H-hold, up, Erii..." he squealed, panting and pushing at Erii's chest.
"C'mon, cum for me," the dragon said with a smirk, ignoring the warning.
Despite his best efforts, Max couldn't stave it off. "W-wait, Erii!" he pleaded, even as his balls tucked in and he felt a rush moving through his loins. The dragon tightened his grip, pressing his palm against the base of the shaft and kneading into it, partially restricting his urethra, and the result of the building pressure when he finally released was a shot of cum that soared over Max's head and splattered against the carpet. The following jets were exceptionally powerful as well, catching the red panda's neck and chest before settling down to pool on his navel. All the while, Erii kept his hold, milking out additional jets until all that remained was a string of cum trailing from his tip.
Max panted, laying there soaked in his own seed. For the first time ever in the throes of his afterglow, all he felt was guilt. When he started to sit up, Erii recoiled. "Hey, hey, watch the shirt, dude!" He said. "My favorite shirt so I'm tryin' not to get it dirty."
"Sorry..." Max mumbled, gingerly maneuvering himself as he stood. Most of the cum had absorbed into his fur, but some still threatened to roll from the pool on his belly. He tried his best to keep it from dripping on to the sofa. "I... I gotta clean up, okay? I'll be right back." Without waiting for a response from the dragon, Max hurried away, trying not to focus on his thoughts until he was in the safety and confinement of his tiny bathroom.
He looked up through squinting eyes at his reflection, seeing himself through the same mirror that his mother had looked at. He wanted to say something mean to himself, but no words came to him. He tried so hard to put what he was feeling into words that he could throw at himself, but all he could feel was just bad. Guilty and bad. Turning on the hot water faucet, he waited a few minutes for the water heater to kick on and then ran a facecloth through the warm stream. He took the cloth and washed himself, leaving his fur damp and curly.
"Ugh, I suck..." he finally said to berate himself. The least he could do was try to be a good host for Erii, even if he was a total failure at being a good son. He left the bathroom after zipping back up and refastening his pants, but when he reached the living room, Erii was gone. "E-Erii," he said, softly, his face faltering immediately. He scrambled to the coffee table, groping for his glasses, and had reached the front door by the time he'd fumbled them on to his muzzle.
"Erii, where are you?" he called out, tears rolling down his cheeks. From his perch on the third floor, he could see to both ends of the apartment complex, an assortment of ugly cream-colored building with maroon roofs in dire need of a paint job. The only activity he could see were those jackals that sat on the hood of that old off-white sedan. The streets were barren, otherwise, the grass along the sidewalks still lightly dusted from yesterday's snow. Max swallowed and wiped his eyes and nose, but the tears kept coming. "This isn't really happening, is it?" he asked himself bitterly, starting to shiver though not due to the cold. "This is all I deserve? No 'Goodbye'? No, 'C'ya, later'? Nothing?" He gritted his teeth, fighting back the urge to just scream.
He turned back inside, his face sullen and dark, his tail dragging along the ground. He walked past the painting of his father without even looking at it, an action he performed instinctively now. He walked by the television, flicking it off as the lyrics of Red Dwarf sung to the tune of "I'm all alone, more or less." He walked past the coffee table where one half of a peanut butter sandwich remained, growing stale as it sat out, wasted. He walked by the stain on the carpet where his cum had started to set. What did it matter if his mom saw it? What did anything even matter anymore?
Max trudged, dragging his feet, into his room, where he saw Erii stretched out on his bed, nose buried in that green sketchbook that had once been damaged. The dragon snapped up, and upon seeing Max's shocked expression and tear-stained cheeks, cursed, "Fuck!" and immediately scrambled back away from the sketchbook as if it were on fire, and instead sat at the foot of the bed, his legs hanging off. "Fuck, fuck, dude, sorry! I got bored waitin' so I just thought I'd check your room out."
"I... I thought," Max stammered, taking his steps closer towards the dragon as if Erii were a rabbit and would bolt if any sudden movements were made. He sniffled, but even though he couldn't stop the tears from flowing, he wasn't sad anymore. Relief overwhelmed him, and he crawled on to his bed, sitting next to Erii, his head leaning against the dragon's shoulder. "I thought you left...."
Erii shrugged him off and frowned. "What the fuck? Why the hell would I leave?"
Max wilted. "I thought, maybe, you didn't wanna be here."
"Goddammit, Max," Erii cursed. "I swear to god, you're so fuckin' stupid sometimes! I mean, fuck, yeah, I was fuckin' around with ya at first, and ya know, maybe I'm not the most 'trustworthy' guy or whatever, but... I mean, it's not like I don't have fun hangin' with ya. You really think I'm just gonna ditch ya when you're fuckin' around in the bathroom?"
"I... I'unno... maybe?" In truth, Max felt horrible. Chris's words, even now, crawled to the forefront of his mind. Did he trust Erii? He wanted to, but what if this was some elaborate setup?
"Geeze, fuck you, too, dude...."
"No, Erii, I'm sorry," Max said, holding on to the dragon's arm when he started to slide off the bed. "It's just... I don't know. I feel... I don't really know how to explain it, but... I thought you'd left me and I couldn't stop crying, and--"
"Fuck! Seriously, dude, stop with the cryin' bullshit! Ya know how big of a boner kill it is?"
"Pretty big?"
"Yeah, pretty big!" Erii confirmed, ruffling Max's head. "It's a huge downer, so how 'boutcha lay off it for a while, kay?" The piye dragon tugged the red panda close and kissed his forehead.
"Erii, I..." Max started to say, but he was silenced by Erii clamping down on his muzzle with his claw.
"Max. Shut up."
Erii let go of Max's muzzle, but when the red panda opened his mouth to protest, he was interrupted, yet again, by another kiss. This one was different than the last, though. Erii's tongue did the same things, sliding, teasing, but the feel was different. It wasn't an overflowing lust that addled his mind like every other time before. There was relief, comfort, and a plethora of other feelings that he didn't know words for, but could only describe them as 'good'. Max liked this. He liked it a lot. The red panda fell backwards, forced down by Erii's advancement. The dragon didn't straddle him, though; instead, he wrapped his arms around Max and tugged the red panda into an embrace. They laid side by side, their tongues wrestling playfully, their tails joining the tussle and intertwining.
It wasn't until Max felt something incredibly rigid grinding against him that he finally looked down to see that one of Erii's pants legs had become defined by a thick almost bulbous rod. The boy reached down, running his fingertips along the outline and Erii moaned into his lips. "I thought you lost your boner," he said with a grin after minutes of teasing.
"Fuck you, you're good at bringing it back," Erii countered in between kisses. "What're ya gonna do to fix it?"
Max's cheeks flushed, but he didn't respond. Instead, he ducked down, working Erii's belt free and exposing that thick purple shafted, pink-tipped cock. His muzzle watered; how many times had he gotten to taste his friend in the past month? Each time was better than the last, and this time was no different. He drew his tongue across the dragon's head, lapping at the sweet pre that beaded at the tip. Erii's three knots had already started to define themselves, and experience had shown that no matter how hard he tried, he could not get Erii off with oral alone.
Oral, though, was not at the forefront of his mind. After only a few moment of service, Max backed away and kicked off his pants and pre-soaked briefs. He turned, presenting himself with his tail hiked in the air. "W-would this fix it?" he asked, looking over his shoulder.
Erii sopped up two of his fingers and answered Max's question by pressing them against his sphincter. His rump, virgin not even two months prior, had loosened considerably, enough that Erii's fingers slipped through without too much resistance. "Fuck yeah, it would," the dragon said with a smirk, withdrawing his fingers and grabbing Max's hips. The head of his cock, blunt as it was and followed by an even thicker shaft, slid between the red panda's cheeks and pressed against his loosened ring, the bare amount of remaining slobber serving as lube. Max gritted his teeth and braced himself, his hands clenching the sheets tightly. Erii pushed forward, spreading him open and sliding inch after inch into him, the first knot, acorn-sized, slipping into his rectum and grinding against his prostate. Max's own shaft, spent from orgasm not even an hour prior, sprung back to life, rigid and drooling between his legs.
"Ow, fuck, Erii..." Max groaned, squeezing his eyes tightly shut as the dragon's second knot, bigger than a walnut, slipped in. He couldn't stop the curses from leaving his lip, and it wasn't until Erii's third knot started to press against him that he arched his back and let out a cross between a yelp and a moan. Drool poured from the corners of his muzzle as freely as pre from his shaft. The dragon withdrew and moved into a rhythm of thrusting to the tune of Max's huffs and whimpers, growing increasingly more aggressive with each plunge. The bed squeaked in protest.
"Doin' okay down there?" Erii asked, slowing his thrusts just a little. When Max shook his head and started pressing back against him, the dragon grinned and went from simply holding Max's hips to gripping the fur. "Want more, huh?" he asked playfully. Max nodded with a little more enthusiasm, and Erii's grinned turned positively devilish. "So... want me to wreck this ass?"
"Uh...uh huh..." came a small whimper, muffled by Max burying his head in a pillow, but the sound was all Erii needed to go wild. He slammed his hips forward, sinking the entire length of his cock into Max's ass, the red panda's hips slapping against his own with enough force to make a muffled clap. Max screamed into the pillow as Erii pulled out and then slammed back in, each knot swelling and growing firmer.
"Ah, fuck, I love your ass!" Erii howled, fucking with reckless abandon until finally his third knot slipped through and simply couldn't be pulled out again, tying them together. Instead, he grabbed Max's head with one hand and his shoulder with the other and began digging in as deep as he could, as hard and fast as he could. His breath grew unsteady, his grinding erratic, and finally, he buried himself as deep into Max's ass as he could, unloading jet after hot creamy jet into the red panda. He released his hold on Max's hair and fur and fell over him, wrapping his arms around the other boy, falling over on his side and taking Max with him.
Max couldn't have resisted, even if he had wanted to. He lay there, his body radiating heat, panting and whimpering. Other than a light tingling in his rump, something that was certain to bloom into an aching posterior later, all Max could feel inside him was warmth. His cock has gone flaccid, the sensations from his rear too much for the rest of his body to comprehend. His mouth didn't work for anything other than panting and the occasional whimper, so the two laid together in silence.
"Think I should try and pull out?" Erii asked after the windows had grown dark.
He knew Erii had to go home. The less his mom knew about the dragon, the better off everything would be. He didn't want to be forced to lie, especially to his mom. He'd already have to tell her what they did, exempting certain details of course. She would judge him harshly, as he'd known her to do in the past, usually for his own benefit, but not this time. He didn't want to risk it. None of those reasons could change one simple fact.
He didn't want Erii to leave.
"Nah, just... just stay... just stay here for a few... more... minutes," he murmured, closing his eyes. Five minutes. What was the harm in a little five minute nap?
~~~***~~~
"Hola, Ms. C! Staying warm?"
Emily nodded to the jackal sitting on the roof of the white sedan. "Hola, Daniel. Where's Mateo and Matias? Aren't you cold? You've barely got anything on!" Despite the nearly freezing temperature, the jackal was wearing only a pair of shorts and lights from the apartments revealed hints of a gold necklace peeking through his fur. Smoke curled from the light cigarette he held between his fingers. Emily clutched a crumpled fast food bag and folded her arms, bouncing and rocking on her heels to keep warm. "I don't know how you do it."
"Oh, the cold doesn't affect me much," Daniel said with a smirk. "Those other pussies are inside, but I come from Vermont. This is nothing."
"That's a fair bit aways. Do you want one? Just a ninty-nine cent crunchy taco," Emily asked, offering up the bag. When Daniel shook his head, Emily headed for the stairs, her shoes crunching on the compacted snow. She took each step slowly, a paw on the rail just in case. The landlords and other tenants were usually good about keeping the stairs free of ice, but she knew better than to take chances. She simply couldn't afford an accident right now. She ascended two flights of stairs over the course of the same number of minutes and finally reached her door.
The door was ajar.
Emily's heart stopped.
"Max!" she said in a choked scream that came out little louder than a strained whisper. She bolted into darkness, her eyes not having enough time to adjust from the outside. The bag of tacos fell to the floor, completely forgotten. She fumbled around on the wall, groping for a light switch, having forgotten their placement in her panic. When the ceiling lights finally flickered on, she bolted straight towards Max's room. The door was open, and she immediately stuck her head through, her son's names right on her lips.
On her lips they stayed, her breath stolen away in an instant. Her son lay there, asleep on his side, perfectly alive and well. She could recognize his faint snoring, almost like that of a melodic buzz. His tail was draped over his waist, but she could easily recognize that that he was completely naked. His glasses caught the glare of the light coming from the living, giving him an almost sinister and melodramatic appearance.
Her relief was quickly, and rudely, shoved to the side by the unfamiliar figure whose arm was draped over Max's body. At first she thought it some sort of reptile, if not for the fact that the arm, and apparently the rest of its body was covered in white fur and gray spots. She could see shocks of blue, the figure's hair and tail she presumed. Was this the Erii that Max had been so excited to see?
Emily started moving closer, intent on rousing the two when Erii suddenly shifted, and her son moaned. Did that mean...? Emily swallowed and flexed her paws, measuring her breathing. What did this mean?
Her cheeks flushed, and her forehead grew warm. Her breathing intensified. What did this mean? Anger. She felt so much anger. Who was this creature? What did he do to her precious son? He had to go! She wouldn't allow him close to her son anymore. Her eyes narrowed and she curled her paws into fists. She'd throw him out if she had to. She'd pack and move, anything to keep Max safe from this creature's toxic thoughts and seductions. He must have been the reason Max got hurt. She didn't know how, didn't know how to explain that, and she didn't want to explain it. It felt good to blame him. She started to reach forward.
Her paw was only centimeters away from Erii's shoulder when Max shuffled and let out a low mewl. Emily glanced down to see her son smiling in his sleep. His glasses were being crushed against his snout. "Max, you just fixed those," she said, smiling despite everything around her. She pulled the glasses from her son's face, folded them and set them on the desk where they belonged. The quilt that Max had covered his bed with had been knocked on the floor, probably by... it didn't matter. She knelt and picked it up, drawing the quilt over the sleeping boys. She kissed Max's forehead then left, closing the door behind her.
"Come on, Emily, you can do better than this," she scolded herself, picking up the fallen bag of tacos and shutting the front door, locking the deadbolt. She sank against the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. She counted her breaths, going up to fifty before she even let her thoughts wander towards the most obvious topic of contention.
"There's a boy... in your home... probably screwing your son," she said as objectively as she could, but it didn't help. What was she supposed to do? Should she call the police and claim he raped Max? "Emily, calm down," she told herself. "Breathe. Just... breathe." She'd seen her son's expression. He was happy. Very happy. This Erii must be something special. Well, of course, her son wouldn't just let anyone...
Emily cupped her paw over her forehead. Every thought led to a more disturbing thought. Situations and scenarios that she'd never envisioned flashed through her mind. She'd always thought Max would experiment someday, but had always feared it would be with a girl. She didn't want her son's life ruined by the chances and risks carried by such behavior, but for him to be with a guy instead? That had never even occurred to her. "What am I supposed to do? What?"
She stared up at the ceiling, praying that it would give her answers. She smirked moments later. "It's a ceiling," she told herself. "A ceiling is going to do exactly what a ceiling does."
"Should I talk to him," she asked herself. "Maybe he'll resent that. Maybe I should wait for him to talk to me? What if he doesn't? Should I leave an opening for him?"
Her thoughts continued to harry her, assaulting her from every direction. 'He looked so happy.' 'I'm supposed to protect him.' 'He can't be with a guy, it's just not....' 'What if he's picked on at school because....' 'He's old enough to know what he wants.' 'He has a friend.'
"I can't deal with this right now," the red panda said after her thoughts ran their course. She picked herself up and trudged to her room, flicking off light switches and leaving darkness behind her. When she reached her bed, she fell face-forward, without having even changed from her work clothes. She closed her eyes, but try as she might, she could not force the thoughts from her mind. They became a cacophony, a roar that kept her from sleeping. She rolled on to her back and stared up at the darkness.
"Looks like another restless night...."