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The Sapphire Pools

Humidity was heavy at the Grinko enclave. Sunlight flexed through the canopy. Droplets of water, displaced by the energy, were relieved of the burden of gravity, just as the very leaves they laid on were relieved of their presence. Despite the commonness of this phenomenon for the village folk, so much water in the air drove their typically tropical climate to a new heat: a frustratingly cloying form of weather celebrated by the liberation of shirts and the dipping of Grinko's many lakes.

Revered visitors had often called them the "Sapphire Pools" of the forest, boasting of their arcane qualities and the way they enhanced the mind. Mystics and mages alike made the weeks-long pilgrimage to the heart of the continent, curiosity or scepticism playing on their thoughts. Some even said the pools had called to them: not just any pool, but a particular one, augmented by the earthen scent of bark and swollen leaves.

Even within the two-hundred-strong population of Grinko there were those who regarded the Sapphire Pools religiously, but those were the exception; most residents enjoyed their symbiotic relationship with nature modestly, a culture of self-improvement and family prevalent instead. For them, self-improvement involved the honing of a profession: the weaving of reeds or cotton, the rearing of the river Ottlets to sustain the ecosystem, or travelling beyond the great green as a diplomat.

Lurky, however, built his body. Every second day, the brown bear would destroy his muscles. Sometimes, this involved the repeated lifting or throwing of current-smoothed boulders. Other times he remained in his den, listening to the howl of monsoon winds as his toned body endured its own storm. Week after week, month after month, year after year, the self-proclaimed Guardian of Grinko would tear his muscles down to rebuild them once again: stronger, smarter, and more defined than ever before.

At his insistence, he assisted those struggling with tasks in the village, building dams and repairing buildings as required, regardless of inexperience. He would learn. He would grow. He would protect the things most dear to him. With every task he completed, every muscle sharpened. The red fur of his markings, two on each side of his cheeks, and the muscle-squeezing curves around his biceps, triceps and pecs, emboldened. But he needed more.

Sweat trickled down the centre-line of his abdomen, adhering to the tone-bound route through his eight pack. His final set of pull-ups for the day, painstakingly completed on the doorway of his domicile, had left his body hungry for something else. The air was stifling today, though, and the pools were calling him. The thought of cooling his hot body while exercising against water-resistance made his nipples hard, anticipation of lactic acid and a new challenge spurring him along the route.

Everyone called the path "The Tributary," which seemed fitting, given that it was an often-travelled way towards the Sapphire Pools. Pebbles, softer than granite to the foot, paved the way, almost like a beach. Along its sides, which were four steps apart from one another, were smaller shrubs than the densest parts of the forest, glad for the opportunity to absorb the sunlight offered by The Tributary. At the same time, The Tributary served as a social highway, or small gathering place, for the families or friends or classes of children who felt they had earned the privilege of the pools pleasure.

The people he walked past he mostly recognised: a teacher, an elder, a counsellor and a doctor. They were Deer, Otters, Wolves and even fellow Bears, but Lurky felt no real draw to any of them. He preferred the solitude of his muscle den, pumping his cock with the machine-like strength of his arms as and when required. Men and women alike were shirtless: some fat, some thin, several toned or athletic - but nobody sported a body of muscles as devoted or powerful as Lurky's.

Being a bear granted him a naturally tall and stocky form, but his lifestyle and mantras of self-improvement had evolved him into an entirely new level of beast. As time went on, though, this felt less satisfying than it used to. If he was being honest, not that he had many close companions to be honest with, he would say that he felt lonely. He had single-handedly built his body into a fortress, but a fortress with nobody precious to protect served no purpose. Lurky narrowed his eyes and crushed his thumbs in his paws, his footsteps as loud as the grinding of his teeth.

In an act of stubbornness, Lurky waved off his old employer and her husband, who floated in one of the nearest pools with a group of laughing children nearby. He did feel lonely, he repeated to himself, but if he was going to be lonely then he was going to do it properly. His chest puffed out in defiance of his own emotions, as he powered along his path. He was beyond The Tributary now, pebbles replaced by less welcoming rocks and branches. Mice and small birds skittered away. He crushed all obstacles underfoot, but he never harmed an innocent being.

Shrubs turned into trees, trees became unruly, and that unruly spill of sap and fruit and wild-flowers taunted him to go further, to find real quiet, where he could work his powerhouse of a body to the bone. He would shred himself into exhaustion, he promised, and away from frustration. The humidity of the day lit a fire in his heart. He was going to get what he wanted, no matter what.

He marched past a popular Ottlet habitat, their over-inflated mousey forms scurrying along the surface of the water before cannonballing under. The spherical shape of their chestnut fur buoyed them back up like a ball. Usually Lurky would socialise with the Ottlets, despite their friendly but feral demeanour, in the Home Pools near Grinko's centre. Today he felt different, though. He had no time for their bobbing, giggling calls. His legs moved faster, flattening the pools reeds. He strode. He jogged. He ran.

An urgency had caught in his chest: a physical feeling like a lump of lead, sinking down his chest to poison his gut. Everything felt wrong today. Branches lashed against his biceps and cheeks, pool after pool, Ottlet after Ottlet. His sprinting brought him close to each edge of the lakes, each pool with its own offering of wildlife and crisp colour, but every one struck the panic in his heart deeper.

Lurky's lungs throbbed in his chest, oxygen and carbon dioxide pumping in and out of his body like a capacity-running factory. His arms, angled at ninety degrees and aching from exertion, pistoned back and forth to maintain momentum. He spared no thought for his feet, glazed in cuts and grazes and leafage.

He could not go much longer. His body, despite the tuning of its physique, could not keep operating at this level. His brown eyes were wet with tears, for one reason or another. The calves swelling beneath his legs had reached their limit, the fur of his body slick with perspiration.

He had to push just a little further. As he came into another clearing, adrenaline kicked him into overdrive. In the centre of this small Sapphire Pool was the emerald fur of a face-down panther. Before he even processed what he was doing, Lurky launched his apoxy-worn body into the waters, displacing a splash of blue translucence.

"Are you alright? Hello? Can you hear me?" Lurky shook the man's shoulders, raising him in his arms. In return, the panther flailed his limbs, red-edged fur along his arms and legs struggling against Lurky's muscles. He coughed and spluttered and wheezed, his eyes darting open, revealing sky-blue irises with a scarlet outline fading inwards from their circumference.

"I_was_ alright," the drowning man said, now resigned to being hung over Lurky's shoulder.

Lurky sighed, squeezing out used air before swallowing in a paced breath. "What do you mean?"

The red-tipped ears and neck-fur of the panther ruffled. "I was floating."

"Floating?" Lurky said.

"Yes?"

"So, not drowning?" Lurky mused.

The panther laughed, relief apparent in his tone, as he pushed both of his paws against one of Lurky's shoulder-blades. "_Definitely_not drowning."

Lurky felt a flush flash upon his cheeks, glad that the panther's head faced past him. He chuckled, a crescendo of ridiculousness that built up from a machine-gun laugh. His swollen arms and legs loosened in the Sapphire Pool, its coolness washing away his anxiety.

"Thank god," Lurky said, "but why are you here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," the emerald panther replied. "I just felt like it. I felt a bit..."

" - lonely?"

The panther nodded.

"I know the feeling," Lurky said.

Both of them drooped in the water, propping one another up: Lurky's meaty shoulder acting as a float for the decidedly not-drowned loner, while the panther himself wrapped his paws around the back of his neck.

"I'm Lurky. Sorry for disturbing your floating."

That earned another snort from the panther. "And I'm Lyka," he trailed off. "Thank you for trying to save me." Lyka squeezed tufts of the bear's neck fur, muscles pushing between his fingers.

"Oh, you never know, maybe you_saved _me," Lurky said, pulling Lyka back to cradle him jokingly in his arms. He looked into his eyes, taken aback by the vivacity of his irises: the depth of those blues and the specks of those greens, shining together like a new type of jewel, all engraved within a stunning ruby setting. Lurky smiled, for the first time in a while, he thought, and pulled Lyka into a hug. "Thank you, Lyka."

It was Lyka's turn to blush now, as he wordlessly surrendered himself to the embrace. Lurky stroked down the reddish edge of his forearm, his body toned, he discovered, but petite in comparison to Lurky, who clasped Lyka's paws against his pectoral muscles. They were sturdier than Lyka expected, with a warmth pulsing beneath them, probably from the speed at which Lurky came hammering into the pool at. In contrast, his fur was soft: gentler than the smile of an Ottlet.

"Why have I never seen you before?" Lurky wondered, exploring the hues and tones of Lyka's eyes.

Lyka tilted his head, fingers trailing the dome of those pecs. "Well, I'm a pirate," he said, "A traveller. The crew couldn't bear this heat, being inland, so we postponed our journey. I'm not sure why, since I've been gone for a long, long time, but I decided to come back," he bounced his paws off Lurky's chest to punctuate his point, "To Grenko."

"Oh, wow," Lurky said, impressed by the exotic history. He steadied Lyka's mid-section by holding his hips, even though both men's feet rested on the bottom of the pool. Since it had settled, the Sapphire Pool had reached just under chest height with liquid, light bending enough to let one another see the shape of their lower bodies. "You're naked," he pointed out, eye-contact unbroken.

"You're not naked," Lyka gushed, "Isn't that the unusual thing, or have I been gone for too long?" He floated inches closer to Lurky, embarrassed at the thought of such a fit bear judging his body, or worse: seeing the hard, pink tip pointing from his sheath.

Lurky glanced to the side of the pool, where a pile of leather armour, daggers and bows sat. His own plait shorts, drenched fibre-to-fibre in the lake, felt very uncomfortable, like a sock in a wet shoe. "No, no: you're right," he conceded, the chocolate brown of his eyes melting at the warmth of Lyka's personality.

He reached down, untying the cord of his shorts, glad that he had chosen not to wear loincloth today. Lurky gulped, feeling a hardness between his own legs, which shot a fluttering into his chest. The internal strain of his muscles and the change of temperature had made him careless, and now the exposed inches of his cock almost brushed against this stranger. Lyka did not _feel_a stranger, though, which confused him.

Lyka's vibrant fur took his breath away, and his eyes - god, those eyes: so sweet, so precious, so delectable. Those honey-red cups held a pool of their own rippled teal, like the waves of a tide, but still, like a watercolour painting. Even within those waves, sea-foam pearls shone, an emerald several measures darker than his fur, yet somehow many times more beautiful. Meeting Lyka like this, in what felt like their own private bubble of Grinko, stirred something frighteningly potent within each shell of his muscles.

So aroused by one another's presence, neither Lurky nor Lyka noticed that the sky had deepened and the pool grew lighter, refracting light like a crystal rather than water, offering a perfect view of one another's body. Neither of them wanted to admit their attraction, but neither of them had to: the heavy girth of their erections had already been united for minutes.

Lyka's ballsack, coaxed against Lurky's by the comfort of the pool, were plump with longing. Now that he was so close to Lurky's eyes, he realized that there was so much more to see. The mid-ring of his iris was more of a milk chocolate, while inwards-to-outwards flecks of oak-like darkness told a story of hard work. Lyka could see Lurky in his youth, muscles still forming, yet toned, as he swung an axe again and again, splitting the wood necessary for a construction that he hoped, once and for all, he could feel content with.

He saw the dedication instilled within the bear, each muscle born not from vanity, but the pursuit of purpose: job after job, employer after employer, plan after plan - all were memories glossed with success, but dim when placed beside the hole in his heart. 'The Guardian of Grinko,' he called himself, but his efforts felt misguided. Despite being land-locked within the enclave, Lyka could tell that he felt lost at sea.

Lurky cupped a paw around Lyka's cheek, tracing his markings with a thumb. The pool swayed now, its water swirling with the tides of an ocean. Lyka had no real family to speak of, instead filling his life with adventures. Each chartered course was a new chapter, or series, of events that sought out 'home.' Just like the arrows fired from his bows, he travelled in an arc: his flight steered by water and wind, but never hitting its target. Monsters had been slain and bounties earned, but there were some things that could neither be fought nor bought. Sure, his travelling companions were swell, but some loneliness requires more.

As Lurky held the emerald panther, his eyes began to glow. Inside the whirlpool the lake had become, the browns and blacks and hazel smudges of his irises swirled clockwise. They both knew why they came today: it went beyond coincidence. The Guardian of Grinko and the Sailor of the Seas were two restless souls, united.

Lyka's ice-blue eyes thawed and stirred, while his body felt like melting. Without the chirp of birds or bugs, the moment shared was silent. Memories crossed between their minds like lucid, waking dreams. "L-... Lurky?" Lyka whispered, his muzzle brushing the other's.

"Lyka..." he moaned in reply, their cocks throbbing combined. He stared into those eyes, making the blues ripple, and gripped Lyka close. "Call me Daddy."

With tears forming from joy, Lyka collapsed into his daddy. From their shared dream experience, he learned how Grinko families formed: other than biological means, it was always the pools that chose. It was fated, Lyka realized, ever since he was born. This strange, hunky bear was meant to be his dad all along.

"Daddy... Daddy..." he cried, his tears diluting his irises instead of running down his face. They were greenish-blue, like a potion, mixing to cure the ailment he always knew his heart held.

"My son," Lurky declared, his voice raising up to a growl. As he looked to Lyka's eyes and it finally sunk in, his chest began to purr. He cradled his boy in biceps that he had spent almost his entire life crafting, his cock pounding hard and his nipples taut as he realized that it was all for this moment. All for his son.

Upon hearing those magic words for the first time in his life, Lyka's pupils widened. The Sapphire Pool spun faster now, while his thoughts became truly open. He offered them up to his newfound dad, grateful to be in this place. If Lurky had not tried to save him, or if the weather had been different, even slightly, then he never would have found him. It was so soon, he knew, but already he could tell that this was where he belonged: cradled in the arms of his shredded daddy, his guardian. This was home.

Lyka looked expectantly at his dad, his pupils semi-vacant. The warming core of his man's eyes made him want to do anything and everything ever required of him.

"Son," Lurky purred, his gaze momentarily hardening, "Suck my pecs."

Lyka became acutely aware of his pent-up cock, eight inches of twitching flesh oozing pre-cum up between them. Without a thought, he obeyed his daddy's wish, wrapping his lips over the left nipple, then the right, torn between choosing a favourite. His tongue trailed down those muscles, to which daddy groaned, meaning he was happy. No matter how hard he sucked or licked, he could not break through their hardness. As daddy's paw crushed his face into the chest he even used his teeth, trying to find weakness in his muscle-armour, whimpering like a bitch when he found none.

In such proximity to his hunk, Lyka's knees weakened. A new scent took hold. Now that he was so close, sucking on pectoral muscles like a needy puppy, the sheer potency of Lurky's musk made itself known. Dried sweat, all over his body but mainly from his oaksters, cascaded around Lyka's muzzle like a twister of perfume. It dominated his nostrils, pushing inside him like a heavy drug. It was administered with the utmost of affection, Lurky's perfect body grinding up against him, seeping into his bloodstream and loosening his hole.

"Good boy," Lurky said, half compliment, half command. "Breathe it in. Let me inside. Look at me. Good. That's my sweet, sexy, son." His paw guided Lyka along the contour of his left pec, all the way along to his armpit. Lurky buried his son's muzzle deep in the crevice, forcing every breath he took to be one dictated by his musk. "You belong to me, now. Forever."

Lyka felt like he was floating. Not in the water, which swayed from side to side, but in his thoughts. His daddy's eyes waved him closer like a flag in the wind, colours and contrasts colliding in a kaleidoscope of commands. His musk, as mouth-watering as his muscles themselves, induced the rawest of heats inside his loins, making him desperate for an ever deeper flavour: for their bond to be consummated.

"Dadd-..."

"Shh, Lyka. Shh. Don't you dare open your mouth unless it's to suck my cock."

Lyka whimpered, eyes rolling back in his head. His daddy's paws lurked underwater, like a shark circling prey. Before his intoxicated mental-state could understand what was happening, Lurky's paws crushed his entire ass. Each finger punctured the roundness of his arse-cheeks to massage the deep muscles of his thighs, kneading him like putty. Lyka tried to moan aloud but his alpha's command repressed it to a lusty whine.

Their knots frotted to and fro throughout the ritual, getting harder, pulsing like soul-bound sonar. Lyka did not know how much he could take. Lurky knew exactly how much more he _would_take, as he lifted the entirety of his son's weight against gravity and in opposition to buoyancy. With Lyka's inert form anchored to his muscles, Lurky pull him on top of him: mounting him atop a vessel of sheer power. As a natural response, his rump quivering in anticipation, Lyka raised his legs and grasped frantically at Daddy's biceps, obediently sliding his tongue up and down the crevice between those pecs.

A yelp snuck from Lyka's lips as the tip of Lurky's penis pressed his entrance. Minutes ago he had been relaxing, lonely, in the depths of the forest, but that all seemed laughable now. In fact, his entire life so far felt like one big joke: an interlude between being born and meeting his true daddy. He had killed krakens, silenced sirens and cooked carnivorous plants, but never before had he felt so simultaneously powerless and proud than this very moment in time, where his hole parted aside to let Lurky enter inch by water-slick inch.

Throb by throb, flex by flex, whimper by whimper, a father bred his son. Lyka looked up, admiration in his eyes, only to be met by the dark, dominant swirls of his dad's hypnotic gaze. "Scream for me, bitch," Lurky said.

Lyka cast his head back, irises displaced, to declare his pleasure to the heavens. As the knotted base of Lurky's cock marked the seventh inch inside him, the world seemed to spin. The sky was the colour of the Sapphire Pools, and the grass the colour of tree bark. Blues turned to greys turned to browns turned to purples, Lyka's senses inverting and reverting and bending to the will of his daddy and the arcane geyser they bathed in.

He had always been colour blind, but as the colour of his dad's eyes deepened and split and multiplied and saturated, Lyka could feel the very way his brain worked rewire. Musk and pleasure and thrusts and screams re-programmed everything he had ever been and declared what would forever come: Daddy. Daddy would come. Over and over, again and again, mindless repetition of sexing and breeding and safe beds of muscle, protecting Lyka from the beasts he would once hunt in a past life, and fending off the loneliness.

He could not take much more. But he had to. Daddy willed it.

Lost in the depths of Lurky's love, Lyka's ring stretched further. "Nearly there," Daddy told him, panting and biting and gripping. The enormous knot of cock slammed inside him, mashing against his prostate, and Lyka thought he was going to cum - but he did not, because in that moment Daddy sunk his teeth, every possible inch of enamel, into Lyka's sweet, sweet shoulder-blade. Incisors and canines struck deeply inside, immediately drawing blood, but the pain became pleasure like the grass became blue instead of brown, and his entire vision faded white - or was it black? He could not think. He was Daddy's muscle-loving pirate slut and this is where he belonged now.

Lurky drank his son's wound with fervour, his tongue matching the thrusts of his hips. The mark had been made, the contract completed. Before an eternity of protecting his son could be secured, there was one thing left to do. He growled, rumbling into his son's puncture, travelling downstream to his heart. With every muscle he had ever empowered, his entire cock strained against Lyka's insides.

"Oh fuck," Lyka screamed, "Oh Daddy... Daddy... Daddy!" an audible plume of semen shot from his cock, sniping through the water to spray against Lurky's abs. Wave after wave of immutable ecstasy ricocheted up from the heat of his ass to the back of his throat to his swirling eyes and all the way back down to the loaded bow of his cock, painting everything in sight and even the powers invisible with enough strings to make a fletcher blush.

Holding Lyka in place with only his teeth, Lurky's own climax unleashed inside his son. There were no cum-shots, but a cum-stream, and an ear-piercing howl. His balls and seminal vesicles emptied in an internal hose-down of every inch of every part of Lyka's ass and mind. Every thought and every corner of his rectum filled and strained but swallowed the cum, so much volume pushing back his knot - but his knot had swollen to twice its size, only increasing their pleasure: upping the pressure and therefore the cum flow, in an endless feedback loop of daddy-son bliss.

They were connected now: physically, mentally, spiritually. Through knot and cum and dreams and desires and the power of the Sapphire Pools, bear and panther had become father and son, and would forever be bound by duty. An afterglow shone like a light in his eyes, as Lyka collapsed unconscious. Lurky held him safe and close, his knot still stuck inside him.

Just like his knot, Lurky thought, they were attached and irremovable. He smiled: a smile that would last a lifetime. But, also, just like his knot, he thought, this was exactly where they belonged.