{"sf1_id":1406546,"sf2_id":"3egOKzwe","title":"The Brittle Unbreakables - chapter 9","author":"Cieran","words":399,"posted_at":"2019-01-11T16:04:07.000Z","tags":["Barefoot","Constriction","Friendship","Human","Hypnosis","Jackal","M/M","Male","Male/Male","Mind Control","Paw","Romance","Snake","coiling"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1406546-the-brittle-unbreakables-chapter-9","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/3egOKzwe","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/2b/90/2b901235-6a80-4e23-bb56-e740f7a24a75","description":"Imported from SF2 with no description.","content":"\"Look into my eyes, Oman.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Go with it.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Hn.\" Oman obeyed, and met his friend's eyes head on, the only way he knew how. The fighter's eyes were as they'd always been, steely, violent, defiant. There was, in Oman, always the essence of a cornered animal.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nThat was about to change.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nZeboul's eyes were elliptical and silvery, most of the time. The more Oman looked, the more he saw impurities in the silver: traces of many colours.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nSome seemed to be iridescent reflections of the light hitting them from above. (The sun was oddly warm for eight.)\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nSome seemed to be pigment hidden in the silver - flecks of blue and red.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nThey weren't, though, because Oman realised they weren't silver anymore. As Zeboul moved, Oman's movements followed his eyes.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nThey didn't follow his eyes in order to keep focused. His focus was tethered, by something, and he moved with Zeboul's motions without meaning to.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd his challenging eyes softened, for the first time in a long time.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe world sank into humid violet, and shifted, slowly, between the colours of the rainbow. The rest of the world than colour was Zeboul and Oman, just the two of them.\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nZeboul saw Oman's eyes soften - and slacken - and half-lid.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nOman's anger began to evaporate.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe hadn't even known he had felt angry, or defensive.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe hadn't known he'd looked challenging. That was just how you looked at people.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nBut not now.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nFor a long, long time - close to an hour - they sat like that, eye to eye, Oman sinking into Zeboul's hold.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"You've got a possessive streak,\" Zeboul whispered into the silence between them. \"I can work with that. We can belong to each other, if you want.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nWhatever was holding Oman's composure together broke, and his jaw went slack, his eyes wide and needful.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nInnocent.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Forever, just like in a story. Or as long as you like.\" He smiled widely - even laughed a little.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nOman had never accepted anyone laughing at him before, but he heard and felt love in it, here.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nZeboul took the human's hands in his, and led him deeper.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nThey would continue their exploration of each other's bodies later.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nFor now, this was enough.","series":{"name":"Garland City - The Brittle Unbreakables","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1406544-the-brittle-unbreakables-chapter-8.json"}}