In the Jungle, the Mighty Jungle...
In the Jungle, Simba considers his past and his future, before the present comes rushing to meet him.
This story was written for Jem as their patreon commission for September. It contains M/F sex between consenting adults. :3
In the Jungle, the Mighty Jungle...
In the jungle, Simba was dreaming. His mane puffed out proudly even as he slept the night away, and though in his sleep he couldn't tell if Timon and Pumbaa were resting against his far larger body, he remained subconsciously still just in case they were. Thus the only giveaways to his state of un-restful slumber were more subtle clues. The flexing of his claws. The occasional flick of an ear not due to the sound of nocturnal bugs zipping past, the back and forth of the tip of his tail, but nothing more. Not a growl, not sound beyond the lion's tail gently tapping the soft leaf-litter below.
Within the dream, he didn't know he was dreaming of course. He rarely did, and on the occasions when he was aware that he was dreaming they were normally the kind where that knowledge did not help in the slightest. Dreams with ravines. With stampedes. With elephant graveyards, and large amber eyes, one of which crossed by a giant, bleeding scar. Dreams with roaring screams of terror, and of the dull, thick thud of body against rock.
This was not one of those dreams, and for that even subconsciously Simba was grateful. But at the same time there was still a part of himself which knew that this wasn't the world he lived in. A part of him that knew this wasn't where he was meant to be. At least, not any more.
"Head's up!"
Simba lifted his head from where he was taking a drink at the watering hole, and yowled loudly as a flying golden blur crashed into him, wrapping its forearms around his neck and dragging him with it into the water with a huge splash. He dragged himself to the surface, not difficult seeing as they landed in water only a few more inches deeper than he could stand in, and turned with a snarl towards the missile that had struck him. For a moment, shock registered upon his face. Pure wonder as he took in the sight of Nala. But then he was confused as to why he was shocked. Of course Nala was here. He saw her here every single day as the pride came down to take a drink in the late afternoon once the worst of the day's heat had passed.
Turning the snarl into a playful growl, the lion batted his paws against the water, setting off a small tidal wave that swamped the lioness as she floated, giggling in front of him. She gasped and snorted as the wave hit her, and then the fight was on. They splashed and flicked water off their limbs and tails as they ran back to the bank, Simba again feeling a momentary shock as he caught a glimpse of his reflection as they shook themselves dry upon the watering hole's edge, then once more wondering why he was surprised to see himself. His young, maneless, innocent cub self.
He looked up, up towards Pride Rock itself, and sure enough there was his father. His father, Mufasa. Alive, well, strong as ever. And behind him... no. There was no-one. No malevolent shadow. No darkness. No amber eyes and cruel grin. No whispered words.
"Run away, Simba. Run far away."
Instead he just felt something dull thudding against his side, looking around to see Nala head-butting him playfully.
"C'mon!"
She giggled again, digging her claws into the ground but only succeeding in digging herself an inch or two into the soft ground at the edge of the watering hole.
"C'moooooon! If we leave now, we can go hide in the tall grass. Avoid Zazu when he tries to bring us back to our parents!"
Simba grinned, and was about to nod eagerly when something made him stop. He paused mid-nod, turned sharply so Nala went flying past him as she was suddenly no longer driving herself into his side but instead pushing against thin air, and furrowed his brow even as she tumbled end over end, squealing with laughter before rolling onto her back and glancing at him playfully while still upside-down.
"I... I dunno if we should. S-stray away from the pride, I mean. Maybe... m-maybe Zazu knows what's best?"
Nala ran back up to Simba, concern etched across her face. She grabbed him by the cheeks with her forepaws and looked him dead in the eyes. She placed the back of one paw against his forehead to check his temperature, before finally, playfully batting him across the head. He yelped.
"Hey!"
His dear friend was still staring at him in absolute shock and terror though, so much so that he began to feel distinctly nervous.
"W-what?"
Nala shook her head.
"Simba. Y-you... you just said... that maybe Zazu knows what's best."
He blinked.
Nala blinked back.
A flicker of a smile crossed the male cub's muzzle.
Nala's eyes bulged, and as Simba burst out laughing he bolted past her, away from the watering hole and towards the long savannah grass on the far side of the watery pool.
"Oh you're gonna get it now!"
The lioness roared after him as she gave chase, giggling wildly.
They raced towards the long grass, pushing, shoving, nudging each other and laughing all the while. The closer the pair grew to the grass itself however, the pridelands around them seemed to grow hazy. They kept on running side by side, but it was as though they were running on the spot. They giggled, laughed, they nudged at each other a few more times, but then they were panting heavily as they ran faster and faster to try and get to the grass sooner, before Zazu or indeed one of their mothers could catch up and stop their play. They ran faster. Faster. Faster. And as they ran so fast their legs were practically a blur against the hazy earth beneath their thundering paws, Simba saw Nala beginning to change.
She grew longer. Leaner, yet more muscular too with the beat of her paws against the earth growing more firm and confident as power rather than simple lightness began to become present in every stride. He was growing too. He could feel tufts of thick, darker fur appearing around his once smooth furred face. He could feel himself swelling in size, even more so than Nala, and as he continued to run he saw his feet growing, spreading out as they drummed against the savannah like Rafiki with his drum on a rainy season night. As the world around them began to grow more solid again, they weren't cubs any more. Nor were they adults though. They were growing, but not yet grown. Simba stared at Nala as she ran alongside him, and though she looked unfamiliar in this form he couldn't help but think how... pretty she was. She glanced back at him. Their eyes met. They both looked away sharply, cheeks reddening as finally they leapt into the grass and...
...why had they come here?
They stopped. They lay down side by side as though preparing to stalk an antelope. Simba looked at Nala, Nala looked back at him, almost as confused as he was.
They'd come here to... play? To... get away from Zazu?
But... they weren't kids any more. They didn't play hunters now. When they hunted, it was real. When they fought, it was real.
It was nice, though. Being here. With just Nala. Just... her.
Simba shivered. Not because he was cold. In doing so he brushed up against Nala, and felt her tense sharply. Neither of them spoke. But, neither one of them moved, either. They remained there, resting side by side. Touching. Feeling the other lion's warmth.
Closing his eyes, Simba tried not to react. Tried not to do what he could feel was building inside him.
He failed, and just a few seconds later... he purred.
Nala's eyes bulged. She tensed again as though she was about to spring away from him in disgust. But, instead...
"I... I'm glad you're here, Simba."
She leaned against him a little harder. She giggled, laughed warmly as he purred again, looking every bit as humiliated as the first time.
"And... I'm glad you're glad I'm here, too."
Nala turned her head towards the male lion. She looked him up and down. At his tufty, sparse mane and body that wasn't quite grown or indeed still quite a cub. She opened her muzzle as though preparing to say something. She tensed yet again. She drew in a deep breath, and...
Simba licked her upon the cheek.
Just for a split-second.
Then he yelped as though having done so without even realising what he was doing, and promptly buried his head under his forelimbs as though that would somehow hide him from the consequences of his actions.
But the consequences caught up to him.
A nose pressed against the side of his neck. A gentle head-butt to make him pull his gaze away from the earth. And then... a lick on the side of his muzzle too, followed by a warm nuzzle, and a rumbling purr from the adolescent lioness.
His first kiss, as it were. Their first kiss.
Somewhere in his stomach he had that feeling again. The feeling that things weren't right, that things weren't like this. But, this time he pushed it away not because it made no sense, but because he didn't want it to make sense. He wanted this. He wanted to be a teenager, a teenager realising that his best friend was so much more than just his best friend. A prince in training, learning from his ageing but still strong, still reliable father. Putting his uncle Scar to shame with every passing day as he grew stronger and stronger while Scar grew weaker. Counting down the days till he could be king, and till Nala, his dearest friend, could be his queen.
But, for now... for now they were still young.
They were still growing up.
And for now, a lick on the cheek would be more than enough to change his whole world.
He nuzzled her back. He ran his tongue warmly, affectionately across her face, and he growled to her softly.
"Remember how when we were cubs, our mothers would talk about us ruling the Pridelands together some day?"
She nodded, blushing.
"Remember how dumb we always thought that was?"
Again Nala nodded, laughing as she did so. Simba laughed too, but as they stared one another in the eye a little longer, that laughter trailed abruptly off.
It wasn't so dumb any more, nor was it funny.
"Simba..."
"Nala, I..."
They began to speak, but before they could say a single word more to one another, the blur surrounded them yet again. They both seemed to notice it this time, and sat bolt upright on their haunches. Nervously they looked around, moving to stand back to back, circling around one another protectively while keeping a careful lookout. It wasn't from outwith that the changes came though, just as before. They came from within.
Simba snarled as he lunged forward, digging his fore-claws into the earth below and raking them back through the ground as Nala watched him begin to grow again. Muscles grew more defined upon his frame, particularly the forward half. His mane grew thicker, lush and rich, amber brown just like his father before him. His muzzle grew more defined, his teeth bigger, longer, sharper. His eyes mellowed. His smile softened. He was growing up. No... he was grown up.
And so was she. Before Simba's eyes Nala had already changed from cub to adolescent, and now she was growing into a woman. Sleek yet powerful. A huntress of the savannah. Her body looked like it could glide silently through even the most loud, obnoxiously rustling grass. Like it could take down a whole herd of wildebeest on its own. Her claws. Her teeth. Her haunches. Her hips. Her... Simba growled as he shook his head. This woman before him, she had changed so much in the years since they were cubs. And now he knew, now he was certain it had indeed been years. The grassland blurred more and more until it was gone, until there was only a dark haze surrounding himself and Nala, now a fully grown lion and lioness, powerful, muscular, each handsome and beautiful in their own right.
Reality faded back in, and Simba growled in delight as he realised where they were.
The jungle. His home.
Except, now he wasn't the only lion to find himself here. Now Nala was here too. Something about this felt strange, felt weird as it had felt weird for him to find his dreaming self back at the watering hole. But... it was a different kind of weird. Not like it was all made up, but like despite this not truly making sense, it still felt... real. As though it were fact, or, as though it would soon be.
He gasped as he felt something thud into the side of his body, and turned to see Nala with her head lowered, butting into his shoulder with a playful twinkle in her eyes.
Turning towards her, he growled and lowered his head to hers. They rubbed noses, they licked one another's faces without the pathetic embarrassment they'd felt as teenagers so long ago. How could they ever have felt bad for wanting to kiss one another? How could they ever have felt as though they were only friends.
Simba purred loudly as Nala slunk down the side of his body, rubbing herself from head to tail against him on the way. How could he ever have seen her as anything but what she was, his future Queen, and the most important lion to ever enter his life.
"I... I miss you so much, Nala..."
He growled to her tenderly, but winced as she looked at him in confusion, eyes wide and worried.
"Simba. I'm right here. I've always been right here."
He nodded. He knew that, and yet... why did it feel like he was seeing her for the first time? Like as much as he knew it was her, he barely recognised her compared to when they'd seen one another as children each and every day.
Shaking his head, he rushed forward and nuzzled her again, licked her again. She was real. She was here. He could taste her. Smell her. He could feel her as she rubbed against him again, her whole body tense, trembling. Just like in the grass. Just like before she'd kissed him for the first time.
Their first time.
Their first ever.
He looked at her. At that gorgeous lioness. At his best friend and most beloved Queen to be.
He growled lovingly as he had countless times before, but... now, there was something more to that growl. A deeper, rasping sound that wasn't just love. It was more piercing, more potent than just love. More urgent, more wild, more... lustful.
He sprang upon Nala, and she roared not in pain or anger or shock, but in rapture. He could practically hear the unspoken word that accompanied that roar.
'Finally!'
He pinned her. Just as she had always pinned him when they wrestled as cubs. He stared deep, passionately down into her eyes. A look that said only one thing, a look that she couldn't possibly misunderstand.
Nala whimpered. She nodded. She rolled over beneath him.
He hunched over her. His weight on her back. His teeth against her neck, her throat. She didn't flinch. She trusted him, absolutely.
Her tail flicked up, around and over his. His hips rocked forwards, instinct driving him. There was a heat. A heat between his legs that he had never known before. And she felt it too, he knew she did.
Simba growled wordlessly, and Nala mewled back, though in that instant it could so easily have been the other way around considering how terrified Simba felt.
He pressed himself against Nala, and she snarled. She arched her back. She trembled as he pushed himself forward again. And again. He could see her claws flexing, digging into the leaf litter. Was it pain? Was he hurting her? He slowed his hips, and instantly the lioness howled back at him.
"D-don't stop!"
Her voice was so strained. So thick and deep and rich with... god, the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He loved making Nala laugh. Making her giggle and snort like when he pulled faces at Zazu when they were young. But this... this was a beauty, a wonder awakened from within his beloved lioness that he had never before known. He surged forward harder, faster. He snarled and nuzzled at her all at once, and felt her writhe, thrash beneath him in turn, mewling and snarling giddily once again.
"Simba! D-don't ever... don't ever stop!"
She begged.
"Don't let this end. Don't let me go, Simba. Never let me go, p-promise me!"
He roared, the jungle echoing with the sound of his passion and his promise.
"Never, Nala! I'll never lose you. N-not ever, ever again. I..."
But... even as he spoke those words, he realised their meaning. Never again.
Never again.
He wouldn't lose her again, because... he had already lost her.
Because of Scar.
Because of Mufasa.
Because of... everything!
Simba roared once more, but Nala didn't answer him. She opened her muzzle to let loose another bliss-stricken cry, to beg him not to let her go, to never let this moment end, but instead all the lion could hear was a distant, echoing voice. Not screaming his name, not howling in pleasure.
Singing.
He could hear singing. His head span, so many feelings, so many sensations and sensory inputs at once. He tried to focus on Nala, but the more he tried to think about her the less he could feel, and the more all he could do was hear that song echoing through the jungle.
In the jungle. The mighty jungle. In the jungle, the lion slept, and he dreamed, and... finally, with a snarl of pleasure, of shock, of dismay as he realised in that instant that he was dreaming, Simba jerked violently awake.
*********
Huffing, growling, Simba's cheeks flushed as he looked down the length of his body, awakening upon his back to find his cock protruding rich and red from its sheath, and streaks of his own hot cum glistening upon his belly. He shuddered as he recalled the dream before it could fade. Nala. God, he hadn't thought of her in so long. He hadn't let himself. But now... now he wondered if she truly was that beautiful, and he rued the fact he would probably never know.
He didn't have time to linger upon that sorrow however, for a moment later he was glancing nervously around to make sure that neither Timon or Pumbaa were around to see his embarrassing situation. Carefully, quickly he cleaned himself off with his tongue, blushing as he tried not to linger on just how good he tasted, or to remind himself just how easy it was for his head to slide own between his legs and his lips to close around his cock until he... well...
The lion blushed and shuddered happily. Slimy yet satisfying indeed... was the only thought that crossed his mind in that moment.
"...in the jungle, the mighty jungle..."
Simba glanced up from cleaning himself free of his cum as he heard gentle singing drifting through the trees. Well, it wasn't that gentle really, nothing Timon ever did was ever gentle. Still, he chuckled.
"...the lion sleeps tonight."
Not any more, he doesn't.
The singing faded away for a brief while, and Simba resumed cleaning himself. The dream was already fading from his mind, and much as he would have liked to cling to it a little longer, that was probably for the best. Provocative, sexy dreams aside, it did him little good to think of the past. Of Nala. Of the life he could have had.
He was better off here. Better off without responsibilities, without thinking of one day being King, or even a mate to someone. He had his friends. He had no worries.
Hakuna mata-
An ear splitting scream erupted from Pumbaa somewhere in the distance, causing Simba to lose his train of thought and sit bolt upright, claws extending instinctively, hackles raising. His ears twitched, he rose up onto all fours, primed and ready to run as he heard the cracking of branches and the sound of loud, warthog-like scuffling. He heard Timon's voice, faint and unintelligible, and then...
" SHE'S GONNA EAT ME!"
By Jeeves
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