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He’d called him beautiful once. Only once, but that was enough for Emneth to know where his lecherous father stood on the subject. He wasn’t about to let a parent usurp his boyfriend.

“’Ere, ‘ave another fifty.”

A bright red note was flashed his way and Sandy was left in a grateful awe.

“Oh Mr Goldhay, I couldn’t possibly.”

“Sure you can!” The fox grinned, slipping his wallet back into the pocket of his stone-wash jeans, “for being my handsome wing-wolf.”

There he goes again. Now, Sandy wasn’t sure quite how to take that; and the look on the cashier’s muzzle was just as precious. Was this a step-father, a much much older brother, a sugar-fox or just simply a dirty old tail? No matter the reason, Sandy reluctantly exchanged this extra pocket money and kept a genuflecting thanks going all morning after.

It was the start to a lads’ holiday. Yaxlea Goldhay and his eighteen-year old only cub Emneth, along with like-aged boyfriend Sandy Scott were headed to Tenerife for the week. Nothing huge or special; just a seven-day indulgence of sun, sand and sea. The Scotts were there bless ‘em; just to see off their youngest cub on his first holiday without them. Poor Sandy had a blushed muzzle with embarrassment as his mum tended to his tail, grooming it properly as it had been scruffed on the car ride over; oh gosh, and his flight bag got the treatment too, if only to check that her son had everything. His Dad, being Dad, was at it too, making positively sure that Sandy was fully prepared with one long list of all the essentials, barring only the kitchen sink!

“Geez, mum! I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” He murmured, trying desperately to usher them away.

“You absolutely must scent us if you need anything honey, OK?”

“OK OK!” And there was that loving nuzzle and kiss from his mother, “you can go now!”

She smiled wryly as his father patted him on the back, before they padded away towards the airport exit.

“You want me to tend to you like that?” Emneth slunk up to his side, taking a hold of that very lonely, empty wolven paw.

“Don’t tease me.” Sandy whimpered, trying to avoid being seen so red in the muzzle.

“You’re so adorable”

There was a twizzle of a footpaw and a deep kiss, before the pair resolved to join Yaxlea at the check-in desk to get their holiday off the ground.

It wasn’t only the love that existed between Emneth and Sandy that kept the two families on such friendly terms; it was a huge element of long-standing trust. The Scotts and the Goldhays had known each other for decades.

Yaxlea was a gruff, no-nonsense fox, born and bred on the fens of Peterborough. He was a vixen’s fox through and through; a beer-drinking, football-loving vulp with about as much grace as a ManU fan after an obligatory win. His nickname was ‘Yax the Axe’ for very obvious reasons; no one stood in his way.

‘ They’re all like trees to me, all fair game! I hit them hard enough, they fall’

See? He was a fox on a mission, tied in to his natural born cunning like no other. He’d grown up the eldest cub of a labourer and earth-builder, and followed in similar pawsteps to become a brick and clay merchant for the building industry. Sandy’s father, a wolf of similar heritage, had worked alongside him for nigh on thirty years.

Although Goldhay senior had a straight-speaking, conservative reputation, he was remarkably accepting. Most companies in the area still stood by long-defunct purity measures that allowed for the hiring of like-tails and blood alone; it wasn’t law, it was just stubbornness and fear. But not Yaxlea, hoo no! Whether it was by aim, design or accident to be different or just more socially inclusive, he took on any tail who worked hard; and this included those of grey fur from north of the border.

With success though came strains in family life, separating from Emneth’s mother when his cub was but eleven. Father and son lived in a townhouse on Priestgate after much anguish and wrangling over with whom and where the torn cub would decide to live.

Sandy on the other paw lived with his mum, dad and older brother on Essendyke in the Bretton area of the city, and had a very understanding, liberal family life. He hadn’t that much of a great time at school but, with a longstanding relationship with Emneth, he had found courage and stability both at home and in his newfound freedom. There were no queries or doubts or problems over his being gay, nor were Mr and Mrs Scott concerned that their son was dating a fox, a traditionally straying and promiscuous species with penchants for sly and under-pawed dealings. In fact, they had welcomed Emneth with open paws on the first instance that they knew, throwing a party for the high school sweethearts in celebration of the new addition to the Scott clan.

This was not to say that Yaxlea didn’t accept his son’s homosexuality nor his choice of partner; it just wasn’t spoken of as much, nor was it made the focus of family get-togethers. ‘Too many old, stuffy tails in this silly old bunch’, Yaxlea would say; and he was right. He just didn’t want to see Emneth - or Sandy for that matter - get hurt.

####

He still had one of those mini-cans of lager in his paw even as he padded off the plane. Yaxlea had taken full advantage of the free drinks on board, much to Emneth’s eternal sufferance.

His father wasn’t drunk or even merry; it was just, well... he couldn’t seem to keep his paws off the stuff even when they had company. Sandy was very understanding which his boyfriend took as being a very high and terribly cute form of tolerance; the young wuff never wanted to make a scene and was always out to impress the gruff, upstanding vulp that would more than likely be his father-in-law to be.

And they did seem to hit it off very well; a little too well for Emneth’s liking. He did feel as though he was being pushed out by his father. It was little things; the talking over him, the interruptions, ushering Sandy away to do or see something. There was also the night before when Sandy was dropped off by his parents; they’d wanted to be all in one place so that no one would miss the flight.

Yaxlea was eerily quiet, pondering his gaze up and down the wolf as though he were checking him out. He’d lean at the lads’ bedroom door – they’d settled on Emneth’s room since they needed some privacy – and watch as Sandy arranged his things and packed the last few bits and pieces into his suitcase.

Yaxlea would have to be shooed away by an embarrassed Emneth as the pair came to deciding underwear, tail dress , aromatic scents and deodorants for their trip. They sure as shoot didn’t want the advice of a mid-forties fox who was a blood relation to at least one tail in that room. He could be so fuckin’ creepy sometimes.

And oh yeah, the fact that the fat old fox had sat between the two lovers on the flight was just the tin lid, it really was! Emneth had kinda wanted to hold paws with Sandy and snuggle a little; he wasn’t the hugest fan of flying, and his wuffie always knew how to cheer him up.

But Yaxlea was unnervingly persuasive and dominant over his cub; perhaps it was a fox thing. Sandy wasn’t about to argue the toss; he never did. And consequently, that’s what made Emneth all the more frustrated. He had to admit that he wanted to see a bit more spunk in his mate, bit more ‘this is my time with my boyfriend, paws off!’ reaction.

“Well, s’nice to meet you again, stranger!” He sighed with frustration, catching hold of Sandy’s paw as he caught up with him off the plane.

“Sorry, s’jus’ ya’ Dad’s kinda....”

“Kinda overbearing?!”Emneth’s muzzle was trained ahead into the muggy island heat as they padded into the terminal building, the pair following behind the rather plump but tall form of his father; fuck, he stank of booze and musk already, “you can tell ‘im to get lost you know? He knows you and I are together.”

“I... I like your Dad, Em. I couldn’t ever say that to him.”

The fox sighed, his tail strung low and hovering bravely; he didn’t want to have an argument before they’d even set paw in the hotel. He felt Sandy lay his head on his shoulder, mewing apologetically.

“I love you.” It was a cute, muffled snuzzle that wandered into Emneth’s black-red left ear as they made their way through passport control, paws dabbing scent cards and documents to the readers.

“You such a soppy soft soul, you know that?!” The vulp turned and kissed his mate, before quickly nomming on the tip of that delicious velvet-grey ear, “nummy wuff is mine!”

“Mmm... all yours.” Sandy murmured happily, tightening his paw in Emneth’s as they wandered out of arrivals, basking in the atlantic sunshine.

####

“Hey, this ain’t ‘alf bad!” Yaxlea had lead the way into their fourth storey hotel room, sniffling and snuffling that curious muzzle this way and that; he may have been a dirty old fox on one level, but he was a stickler for cleanliness and proper vulpic hospitality, “hmmm, not bad at all.”

Emneth and Sandy wandered in paw-in-paw, the scents of fresh linen, sea shore and faint pool chlorine wafting into flight-tired muzzles. There was one huge front room, complete with sofa bed and TV, which gave access straight onto the balcony. Off to the right, down a small walkway, was the second bedroom with its own view over the hotel pool below. And the bathroom was awful posh. It had sparkling ceramic tail baths, and even a tail massager for ‘tired old waggers’ as Yaxlea was fond of saying.

Emneth nuzzled his boyfriend and ushered him down towards their room whilst his Dad slumped his case onto the sofa, paws delving back pockets for his fags. He padded out onto the tiled balcony, paws cupping the end of his muzzle so that the tepid breeze wouldn’t extinguish his poison. And now that broad greying muzzle was lost in thought, senses filled with cold fenestration, pool water and nicotine. He leant forward, gazing four floors down to the trail of damp tails swishing this way and that. Yaxlea had been here before; a struggling, lonely young fox cub hiding in the shadow of his brothers and father.

Tempted, haunted and bemused about his own scent and direction, he’d never known the likes of this kind of freedom until he saw lads his own age almost barefurred and splashing around in the swimming pool and the surf. He couldn’t have been above twelve years old, and he too had grown up without a mum; she’d left his abusive father when he was but a cub-in-paws. He’d never had the chance to speak up or speak out against his vehemently chauvinistic patriarch, to tell him how he really felt. Perhaps that was why his father had turned the rage he’d originally shown to his mother, against him; emotionally and sexually.

“Dad?”

No response; Yaxlea’s dark yellow eyes were lost in the whitewash and the glinting hotel panes.

“Hellooo? Great Earth to Dad!” Emneth came padding out into the sunshine.

“Hmm?”

“There’s just tobacco in that cigarette isn’t there?!” Emneth sniffed the air with a wry smile, “I’m just gonna’ grab some ice for the tail bath. I’ll be back in a sec.”

“Uh... sure. Sure thing.” Yaxlea watched his son walk away, “we’ll grab some dinner when you come back.”

There was an acknowledging paw in the air before that long tail swooshed away around the door frame, down towards the hotel reception. Yax bit his bottom lip, pondering over the stubby remnants of his fag before dabbing it to its death on the dimpled sill. He could smell Sandy from here; and they were alone again. Yaxlea had resolved that, ever since his own mate had left him, he would explore the rekindling of something special, something that he would never have been able to do when his father was alive. It contravened everything he grew up knowing and respecting. It went against vulpinity as he knew it; but fuck, did it feel good!

Paws to his pockets, he padded through the main room and stopped at the head of the little corridor, his muzzle twitching with bedclothes, deodorant... and wolf musk. He didn’t creep up or anything like that; it just felt like it. His heart was in his throat as he wandered slowly down to stand at his son’s bedroom door. It was only barely ajar, but it was angled to Sandy’s side of their bed. Fuck, he was naked. Yaxlea felt his sheath break instantly, swelling and pressing damp pink to the inside of his jeans; it was so deliciously painful.

All his mind could conjure was kneeling behind that handsome lupe and worshipping that young, tender rump.

‘Bet you fuckin smell good’, he muttered to himself, leaning to the wall and playing a paw through his own crotch.

That tail waft, that sheen of silver and hazel fur, those cute blackened footpaws; he was so fuckin’ sexy. Forbidden temptation, marked and taken temptation at that; this was his cub’s boyfriend he was drooling over. And now Sandy, his nose still diluted with the holiday excitement in his own tail and completely unaware of his admirer, slipped on a black y-back thong, comfy and perfectly shaped for those of long tails.

‘Oh fuck yeah, I’m so glad you brought that pair. Looks so good on you!’ Yaxlea was as near to undoing his fly as he could ever be, grunting and groaning quietly with the urge to just have him growing by the second.

And fuck Emneth! Sandy needed an experienced fox, not some pansy-ass half-male who was so paranoid it made your sheath itch.

‘That’s right. You just need big daddy fox to show you how it’s done. Damn it all, why do you have to be so fuckin’ se...’

“I’m back”

Yax hurriedly padded away out into the centre of the main room, rushing to be near his suitcase to feign unpacking; but he had left a trail in his wake.

And Emneth, being the fox he was, smelled it instantly. Crossing from main doorway to the little corridor, the damp, mild musk of excitement bounced about the walls. It was very faint, but it was very specific; specific to his Dad. There was a sly, perturbed look on Emneth’s muzzle as he could still detect that needy, vinegary aroma of horny fox; oh yeah, and the ‘shit-I-almost-got-caught’ embarrassment hovering over Yaxlea too.

He placed the metal ice bucket in the bathroom and, with a frown padded back down to his bedroom to be with Sandy.

His father slowly unzipped his case; and there was a grin slitting through that muzzle. The battle was most certainly on.

####

The musk bar at the hotel hadn’t gone unnoticed.

It was one of those very vulpine things, geared to traditionalists as much as fun and pleasure seekers. Essentially a drinking hole, it provided a sensory experience as well as thirst slaking. The bar had a plethora of exotic liquid musks from all corners of the isles and from all creeds. A dab of your favourite – you only needed a little – could be added to your choice of alcoholic drink or, if you were really adventurous, brave or a strange concoction of the two, you could have them neat in miniscule shot glasses. They were aperitifs to sultry, naughty nights, or just late evening pick-me-ups after a heavy meal. Yaxlea remarked on it as they padded by, out towards the hotel gates and the promenade.

“Gonna’ have to try that later. Care to join me?” Yaxlea nudged Sandy playfully making the wolf go all red.

The old fox had compared the drinking of neat musks to the ‘swallowing of a billion lemons whilst someone shoved a tail down your throat’. It was a hit not to be missed, because he also described the after effects and feeling inside as the ‘horniest you’d ever feel’. The latter was more than likely why he’d want them to try it; Sandy especially, bless ‘im.

The happy trio, summery in whites, blues and terracotta reds, settled on a little restaurant on the sea shore. Yaxlea got the drink order sorted whilst Emneth and Sandy perused the menu, huddled and snuggled in the glorious evening glow, the sun setting over the sea like a giant halved apricot. With the fizz and bubble of lager and lemonade now sat dripping on the table, Yaxlea made another move to thoroughly piss off his son.

“You head off to the bar and order for us, won’t you Em? I’m starved.” The vulp shuffled his chair round to Sandy’s side of their table; not snuggling or cuddling or anything, just within a tail’s bat of him.

“Well what do you want, Dad? I’m not clairvoyant.”

“Ah you know me! Couple o’ the big kebabs would be just fine, mate.”

Emneth rolled his eyes and, gathering the menu in both paws, reluctantly padded away to order, leaving his father alone again with his boyfriend.

“Soooo, how you likin’ it so far, Sandy?” Yaxlea sipped at his drink as he relaxed back in his chair, the tart sprinkle of alcohol refreshing his nose.

“Oh I... I love it Mr Goldhay. It’s... it’s real pretty.”

“You don’t have to be so formal ‘ere, mate. Call me Yaxlea. I want you to feel totally comfy on this trip.”

“Oh I... um... thank you, uh.. Yaxlea.” Sandy murmured and blushed, fondling a paw around his drink, eyes trailing after his boyfriend at the bar. He felt kinda nervous and lost without Emneth. He was but a cub at heart; very shy around other tails, even his mate-to-be’s father.

“And whilst I’ve got you, I want to let you know I’m serious.”

“Uhh... what? Wh.. what do you mean?”

“About the musk bar.” Yax sat up and smiled, “relax, mate. I’m not gonna’ bite, you know.”

Em came back; he’d made tracks to be back in his seat as soon as he could. There was something not quite right about how his father was acting.

“You done creepin’ ‘im out?!” The vulp sat to Sandy’s right, Yaxlea to the left and struck with the sunset on his grey-red fur.

“Cheeky! Me and Sandy were just chattin’ about the holiday.” That muzzle went back to the drink, cutting eyes hovering over the glass rim to see Emneth kiss Sandy on that cute little nose. It didn’t anger him. It was frustrating he had to admit.

The smells of frying meat, fish, onions and warm, sea-soaked sand pervaded everywhere; it was a wonderful end to the day. Delicious noms were had with gusto, Yaxlea making crude meat, skewer and sardine comparisons all evening through; and now Emneth had to admit that he was starting to relax a lot more, even chuckle at the joking. His Dad was a dirty old fucker, but he wasn’t a cheat or a tail usurper, especially not in light of the past and the fact that Sandy was his.

####

It must’ve been long gone ten when they made their way back to the hotel, a gleaming white towering hulk that struck out of a cove cut into the hill. Sandy and Emneth were paw-in-paw again, followed this time by Yaxlea who was, admittedly, a little worse for wear; but his eyes, nose and tail still worked. He wasn’t missing a second of any of this.

He had his right paw deep in that right pocket of his, the one with the hole at the bottom; played with his thick, musky sheath all the way back to their hotel room. Every which way he adjusted himself, he had to switch his dick back; made him so hard to think of having him. Couldn’t keep his eyes off that swaying wolven rump, wrapped up tonight in a pair of wonderfully transparent long white shorts. And there was that contented scent, wild and woody, so very different to any fox that he’d smelled before in private or public. Sure it was spliced with his son’s scent, a boring and general fox odour that made him baulk at the whole thought; but it was still something he wanted. Just a taste, a sniff, a single night alone; it’s all it would take. Yaxlea was sure that he would settle down for life after that, so long as he could have at least one shot at that tight ass. His mind juggled with the alcohol, the lethargy and the sexual craving, swaying his own tail higher and grasping at thoughts that were dirtier than he could ever have wished for.

Each thought made him growl under his breath at seeing Emneth and Sandy paw-in-paw. The whole thing was starting to make him angry; them kissing and snuzzling, being so damned affectionate.

The cute street lamps that lined the sea wall and walkway wandered off into the glow of a north-Atlantic night, strung down the shore like a necklace and giving the hillside trees gloriously dark and musty shadows in the humid dusk. It was so remarkably peaceful for a summer on the island; perhaps that was why Yax was so sure that this would be the perfect time to show the usually quiet and unassuming Sandy what being a member of the Goldhay earth was all about.

“So Sandy mate, you gonna join me?” The sly old fox caught sight of the musk bar as they padded towards the reception area.

“Oh I... umm”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. Get you ya’ first shot.”

“Dad? Dad, would you lay off please?!” Emneth had had enough; they were nicely full but tired, and ready to have a snuggle and a snooze. Poor Sandy didn’t have the ounce to say anything, “it’s bed time, OK?”

“Ah come on, it’s still early.” Yaxlea padded towards the luxurious array sat tucked into one corner of the hotel; it was all orange lit and warm. It looked very posh, “how ‘bout it?”

“I’ve already told ya’ Dad! We’re tired and ready for bed. If you want to, go right ahead.” Emneth had asked for their room key, and was now leant to the reception desk with an exhausted look on his muzzle, “knock yourself out, Dad, but we’re knackered.”

“Sandy?” Yax’s eyes, although a little on the sozzled side, looked as though they were on the edge of tears. It was almost heartbreaking.

“I... I... I’m sorry, Mr Goldhay.” There was a desperate blush and Sandy’s paw clung to Emneth’s tighter as he braved his first refusal.

Yaxlea’s maw soured, twitching and ticking almost in frustration.

“Fine!” The vulp shrugged and huffed, padding towards them before making to the hotel lift.

It was a mutter that made Sandy feel terribly awkward. Emneth on the other paw was used to his father’s alcohol driven temper. He just rolled his eyes and took his partner in tow for the very quiet ride to the fourth floor.

There was at least some late night football on the TV that’d keep Yaxlea in check. He was in a right foul old mood now, and just slumped himself to the sofa as soon as he got through the door, flicking his paw through the channels.

“You sleepy?” Em kissed the side of Sandy’s muzzle.

“Meh, kinda.” The wuff shrugged and smiled, before leaning his muzzle to whisper to his boyfriend, “not that tired.”

Wordless, excited scent was accompanied by their grinning at each other as they padded off to bed, the click of the door shutting echoing through the flat.

“You not all that sleepy huh?” Em pressed his body close, the room bathed in pale slate blue light and a warm ocean breeze, “perhaps foxie fox can help you with that.”

“Mmmm oh I hope so.” Sandy arched in his mate’s grip, feeling Emneth nibble and kiss gently at his throat.

He was pulled gently onto the bed, the pair falling together and just kissing and cuddling, paws roaming and stroking. The vulp had a good, desperate hold on the waistband of Sandy’s thong, whilst the wolf was intent on losing himself in the warmth and the attention and the smell of his mate’s tail; it was rising and rising, wagging a strong waft of sex up to his nose and riling him up.

“Ohhhh Em, that... that feels sooo good.”

“Mmmmm” The fox’s keen muzzle was exploring across Sandy’s bare chest, through all that soft grey-white fur, tinted with sweat and scent. He shuffled to clasp his teeth gently over the wuff’s left ear before nosing at the white inner, “’I’ve got a naughty idea.”

####

Yaxlea must’ve fallen asleep on the sofa. He snorted and shuffled awake, heaving himself to his footpaws with a pounding headache brewing between those velvety ears. The TV had switched to static snow as it was now just gone midnight; he couldn’t remember any of the football or the scores. Fuck it, it had all been in Spanish anyway!

The vulp wandered to the bathroom, flicking on the light with a deft paw.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell!” It was ever so bright on tender, post-drink nights.

He squinted in the harsh glow to find the paracetamol, and swallowed a couple to keep his thundering hangover in check come morning. The flat was real quiet; there wasn’t even the sound of shuffling, snuffling, sex or snoozing coming from his son’s bedroom. They really must’ve been tired after all. Well Sandy wasn’t goin’ anywhere; Yax would try it on another day.

He stretched and yawned as he came to the middle of the room again, eyes widened now with the bathroom in darkness once more. Yax resolved to have one last fag before turning in, whipping off his shirt in the stuffy night and padding out to the balcony, box and lighter in paw.

Sighing deeply with that first puff, his eyes trailed after the smoke as it dispersed into the starry night time. He hung his paws, fag between the fingers of the right, over the edge of the wall, enjoying the cool stillness of the hotel in the wee hours. But it was only as he looked down and across that he saw a pair of tails swimming in the pool.

He dragged on his cigarette again, eyes fixated on the couple in the water, splashing about and giggling and having fun after-hours. It was Emneth and Sandy. They must’ve crept out of their room and slunk down to the pool for a midnight swim. Their shorts and underwear lay strewn on the dimpled walkway that surrounded the water as they floated and played about. The pool was barely lit but for a weak old floodlight; but that was perfect. It gave them as much privacy in their rebellion as they needed, as much as it gave Yaxlea a beautifully uninterrupted view of the subject of his lust.

With just the wall between him and the drop, the old fox quickly stubbed out his cigarette and unbelted his trousers. He slipped out of his boxer shorts, allowing his black-red tail to spring higher with excitement; fuck, he wished he could have had a musk bottle to smell right now. It’d get ‘im off so fuckin’ hard.

A growl rose in his throat as he saw the pair swim barefurred, the length of Sandy’s tail sodden and floating behind him; that gorgeous slender body, that ass. He was so perfect. The lovers’ playful time seem to mellow as they swam to a darker corner of the pool, overhung by a drooping palm; but they were still beautifully visible, especially by nose. Yaxlea spread his legs before spitting into his right paw and peeling back his sheath, feeling his thick cock grow harder and harder in his aching grip.

“Fuckin’ yes!” He murmured between grit teeth as he saw them swim away, sniffing the air and realising that there was a definite reason for them trying to hide.

A soft rolling moan started to smoke up from the water, and Yaxlea could see why; he was lovin’ every minute of this. It was just too perfect. Emneth had swam up behind Sandy and ushered him to face the wall of the pool. That cute little grey tail was above the water line now, and the fox’s hips were flush to that tight backside, shivering and shuddering as they made purposeful thrusts. The swash of the water, the whimpers for more just made the sexed scent rising all the more potent. Sandy wasn’t able to contain himself, leaning back into his boyfriend’s paws as he was mated, surrendering to each fleshy throb that filled him over and over and over.

“That’s it, fuck ‘im, fuck ‘im hard!” Yaxlea growled, throwing his own head back as he pawed off furiously, smelling his own dirty, needy scent drift up to his nose.

Emneth adjusted himself, pushing himself closer and angling deeper, bringing his own tail out of the water as he crossed closer and closer to heaven. The drip from sabred hairs and the quickening swash of hips moving frantically underwater mixed with the bright red smell of the pair on the edge of ecstasy, their groans and pleasantly surprised yips getting ever louder.

“G’won my son! Get in there!” Yaxlea wanted to be there, right next to Sandy as he came; he wanted to kiss him, feeling how it felt to be fucked by a Goldhay.

And it was just too much. Seeing and smelling and hearing the pair as they climaxed sent Yaxlea over the edge too. Sandy’s desperate yelp coincided with Emneth’s pleasured groan, and that was all Yax needed. He stifled himself with a bit lip as he spurted a hot, thick yellowed load up against the balcony wall, feeling his tail rise and fall as he came.

As the moment passed and the pleasure subsided, Yaxlea licked his own sticky paw clean, grinning and still fantasising as his thick musky cock drooped with full knot towards the tiles.

Now he wanted him more than ever.

####

The middle and later end of the week was filled with long strolls in the old towns that dotted the hillside, along with wanders along the stretch of rather crowded beach. One had to be careful where you were padding; didn’t want to step on anyone’s sun-tanning tail.

The flip side of all the happy wagging, red scent, and all that contented nomming in very posh restaurants was that Yaxlea had been rumbled on more than one occasion; and now Emneth was just about at the end of his tether. There was the time he caught him ogling Sandy’s rump and tail, all beautifully speedo-clad, as they swam in the sea. That lead to a very public argument which had the poor wolf in tears and made him feel ever so awkward.

There was also the afternoon of their last day when they had stopped at a quaint little tail-dressers shop in the tiny fishing village of ‘El Rabo’. Yaxlea had been all over him for paws sake, ushering Sandy to the tiny changing cubicle to try on all manner of colourful, flowery tail ribbons and wraps.

It was just the look on his muzzle, that cross between intrigue, lust and need. Emneth knew what was up even before he looked at his father’s maw; he could smell it on his tail.

“I can’t believe you, you know that?!” Emneth muttered out of the corner of his muzzle, between grit teeth and a smile.

He was stood on the cobbles of the street that ran alongside the little shop, watching as his father helped Sandy try on the plethora of wares; just made him angrier.

“What? What have I done?”

“Oh you know very well what you’re doin’, you old perv!”

Yaxlea held his long pink tongue between his teeth, slinging a sly sideward gaze at his son.

“Just tryin’ to make you boys’ holiday fun, s’all!”

“Yeah, well you can do me and Sandy a huge favour, and keep your paws off. We’ve already had one bust up over it, and I swear I won’t shrug at ‘avin another if you don’t leave ‘im alone!”

But Yaxlea, being Yaxlea, just grinned again and padded closer to Sandy to help him check out his cute grey tail in the long mirror. The wuff had noticed what was going on; he wasn’t sure why or how Emneth could even imagine that he hadn’t realised. He hated being kept out of the loop, especially when he was the topic of conversation and apparently some sort of toy to be fought over.

The sun hadn’t quit when they got back to the hotel by six; and that wasn’t the only thing that hadn’t stopped.

“I swear, you keep that filthy dick in your shorts and that tail stapled to your backside, or we’re gonna’ have words, alright?!!”

“Honey, please. It’s OK, really.” Sandy was stuck in the middle again, desperately seeking resolution; it was their holiday after all, and this was just spoiling it all.

Yax had made yet another pass at Sandy as they strolled through the hotel gates towards the reception, and now father and son were squaring off near the pool.

“Hey, hey, calm the fuck down will ya’! I’m not doin’ this in public with you again, so just chill!” His father held both paws out as if to push Emneth away, “I’m just gettin’ to know Sandy that’s all.”

“In public?! Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?! You’ve been jumping under my boyfriend’s tail all week. On the beach, in town, every fuckin’ where we go!”

“Honey? Em, please just calm down!” Poor Sandy was desperately trying to get his mate’s attention amidst the shouting ; but it was to no avail.

“I’m not doing anything of the sort. If anything, you’ve been the one with the sore tail since we arrived!”

“Cos’ my dirty fuck of a father can’t keep his paws off what doesn’t belong to him.”

“Hey!” The wolf again tried to interrupt, taking offence to being referred to as a possession.

“I’ll mark ‘im right now if you wanna’ get technical, Dad!” Emneth was still going, muzzle ridged in anger and a paw shuffling under his shorts.

“Foxy? Please, can we just not do this!?” Sandy pleaded, his tail wagging slower and lower; and all those colourful ribbons turned about its thin grey volume seemed such a piteous waste now. The bad scent and arguing were ruining the day; again!

Yaxlea shook his head before padding around the pair and heading over in the direction of the musk bar. Emneth on the paw just huffed and snarled righteously, gripping Sandy’s paw tight and storming away, beating Yax to the reception desk.

“I... I guess I’m... that’s all I am to you.”

“Huh?” The fox turned seeing Sandy stood on the brink of tears, twizzling a footpaw shyly; and that felt awful. Just to see what he’d done, how he’d affected the one he loved. It was utterly heartbreaking.

“I’m just a thing, an object. Something that you own.” Poor wuff felt the tears drip down his muzzle, hot and copious on flustered, tanned fur.

Out of his father’s overwhelming musk and, what he saw as emotional blackmail, Emneth realised that he’d overstepped the mark. He’d already snapped at the receptionist to get them their key, and was ready to put up paws with anyone else who dared even make eye contact with Sandy.

“Oh Sandy, I’m sorry baby.”

But his wolf shunned the open paws and cuddle, padding off towards the lift alone.

“Baby, please!” The fox reached out a paw to touch his boyfriend’s shoulder; but Sandy flinched and screwed up his eyes, “I’m sorry, I never meant it to come out like that. Really I... I’m really sorry.”

A brave grey muzzle rose up to gaze at the brushed-steel semi-mirror of the lift doors, sniffling as he did so.

“I... I just don’t want anyone to come between us, that’s all.” Emneth persisted feeling his own eyes start to break into tears.”

There was still little reaction, Sandy not turning to look at him only expectant of the lift arriving to take them to bed. Once there, he padded forward into the empty box, his maw trembling as he couldn’t stem the crying; he couldn’t help but fall to bits.

“I love wuff-wuff” Emneth sidled over, laying his head on Sandy’s shoulder to snuffle and nuzzle the side of the lupe’s warm, sweaty neck, the fur musky, tired and fraught.

It did break Sandy’s muzzle into a smile, tears drying and soft mews of forgiveness starting to rise from aching hearts. But even as Emneth turned to kiss him and just before the lift doors closed, his dark yellow eyes were slanted off to meet Yaxlea’s. There was a hiss and a growl in his voice as he evolved out of this one quiet moment with his boyfriend.

There was no reaction, just the scrape and dull pad of footpaws across the hallway and the shunking shut of the lift door. With them gone, Yaxlea fondled a paw to his right pocket to find purchase on his wallet; and now the musk bar was in his sights, and the smell of something so deliciously spiteful lay heavy in his nostrils.

That pending thought of betrayal, of taking that wolf as his own was so irresistible. He’d teach that sweet tail how good sex really was with a vulp. None of that soppy, romantic lovemakin’ shit. He’d had it up to here with that when his wife was in the house. A good, rough, hard fuck is what Sandy needed. A lot more than that limp-pawed, uber-protective subby cub could ever give ‘im.

####

Yaxlea had padded up to the room a while later, bringing with him a trio of coke cans fresh from the lobby dispenser. It was a half-treat, half-apology aimed at his son; well at least, that’s what he wanted it to look like. Emneth hadn’t seen that his father had slipped a sleeping pill or two into his drink before he took it in paw.

They had eaten earlier and were now just wiling away the time on the sofa, catching up with the football. Sandy and Emneth were snuggled to one end, whilst Yaxlea was left alone at the other, footpaws resting on the little coffee table. It couldn’t have been barely ten o’clock when, during another break for adverts, Emneth yawned and stretched.

“You tired Em?”

“Mmmhm. I think I’m gonna’ head off to bed.”

Sandy nuzzled him lovingly, stroking and kissing that long, seductive brush as he got to his paws.

“You comin’?”

“Nah, I’m not really tired, foxy. I’ll stay up a little longer. You go and warm up the bed.”

“Love you.” Em leant down and lingered a kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead, making him blush.

“’Night, Em!” Yax murmured with a smile, wandering the lukewarm dregs of his drink to a thirsty gulp.

His son didn’t respond, just smiling vaguely before padding off to their bedroom.

Nothing much was said in the first instance, Sandy offering to grab a little more drink from the hallway machine a few moments later. The flick of aluminium can tongues and thankful sighs settled boyfriend and father-in-law in to the second half of the game.

“Listen Sandy, I think I owe you an apology.” The older vulp heaved himself to shuffle on the sofa, turning to face the wolf, “I never meant to bring anything between you two. I mean, I love you man! Both o’ ya’! I would never, ever want you to feel uncomfortable or any shit like that. I’m not like that.”

“No no it’s OK, Mr Goldhay. It’s not a big deal.” Sandy slurped at his drink, fondling the can between both paws as he held his stare away towards the carpeted floor, “Em just gets real protective of me, and I guess he’s a little... well, not embarrassed, just... wants to act the big fox in front of his Dad. S’cool. I mean, I don’t have a problem with it. I love ‘im.”

“Oh I know you do, my boy. And I’d be the first to admit that I’m thankful that you’re so level-tailed. He needed someone handsome and sensible to rein ‘im in!”

There was a pair of smiles, before silence drew them back to the action on the pitch.

“Oh hey, I... I stopped by the musk bar tonight before I came up.” Yax shuffled around in his pocket for the tiny bottle, “ah, there we go. Care to ‘ave a try?”

“Well I...”

“Mmm I know, Mum’s the word!” The vulp tapped the side of his muzzle and smiled wryly, before offering the little dab of male musk to his nervous company, “I won’t tell ‘im. Besides, you’d like it. Goes great with a cool drink.”

Not wanting to disappoint, Sandy popped his half-full can down on the sofa arm and took a dab from the bottle, crossing it under his nose.

“Whoa!”

“Good innit?!”

“Wow... uh, my goodness that’s... potent!”

“You could say that, young wuff.” And now Yaxlea was dabbing it to his right paw and sniffing deeply, eyes cutting towards Sandy, watching the youngster enjoy the scent, “’ere, have another.”

Sandy hesitated, blinking his eyes and feeling wonderfully dizzy; and now he really did want another go. He took a harder hit this time, mixing it quickly with his fast-fading coke, the bubbles more fizzy on his tongue, the sensations in his muzzle heightened; the tension in his slender sheath building and filling him out, and tenting his shorts.

Sandy had closed his eyes to enjoy the sensation, only to open them seconds later to see Yaxlea snuffling his muzzle up his right arm, scraping and nuzzling the bare fur.

“Fuck, you smell good.” The old vulp moaned and murred, his right paw deep in his own shorts and rubbing himself frantically.

“What... what are you doing?” Sandy jumped to his footpaws.

Yaxlea sat back up with pinned ears, playing a thoughtful paw over the now empty musk bottle.

“I’m... I’m sorry, mate. I never meant to scare you.”

“I... I can’t Mr Goldhay, I really can’t!”

“I know.” Yaxlea got up and stood muzzle to muzzle with Sandy, “I... I guess I’m trying too hard. Far too hard in all the wrong places right now.”

“Huh?”

Yax padded away to the balcony and the stuffy night air, trying to keep himself in check; he couldn’t be seen as weak, an emotional, torn wreck that desperately wanted something he could never really have.

“Well what the fuck would I know anyway?!” He shrugged, head down and stare lost in the hotel courtyard below, “I’ve eaten pussy all my life, so how the fuck did I think I would fare with a young, attractive male wolf?!”

Sandy padded nervously out to join him, leaning on the sill and placing a comforting paw around the fox’s slumped shoulders.

“I was like you, all those years ago. But it was never done, not in a million fuckin’ years was it done, talked about, praised or accepted.” There were tears in Yaxlea’s eyes now as he shook his head, his tail low and wreaking of regret, “and all I wanted was a boyfriend of my own. Couldn’t ‘ave it. Had to fuck a vixen and be tied the rest o’ my stinkin’ life.”

“Well, you’re separated aren’t you?”

“Don’t matter. I still have her scent in my nostrils and her naggin’ in my ear about paws only knows what.”

Sandy felt ever so helpless. He patted Yaxlea’s back once more, before hesitating and leaning forward to gently nuzzle that broad grey-red muzzle. He smelled of cigarettes, alcohol and musk; there was that fatherly scent too, strong and aged.

His attention got the fox smilin’ again, turning out of his lingered stare and holding a paw to the wuff’s right shoulder.

“You’re alright mate, you are! You’re a good lad. And I’m sorry for all this.”

“No no, it’s OK. Really.”

But damnation, there was something on Yax’s paw; it was soaked. He’d poured musk all over it and deliberately lain it comfortingly on Sandy’s shoulder.

And now a hot, cutting grin came at the young wuff; it was something sinful that bubbled behind those golden vulpine eyes. That scent of home, strength and maturity was driving him crazy. Yaxlea’s was an aroma that was more irresistibly sly than he’d ever experienced; and Sandy wanted it.

The wolf leaned forward again suddenly, and this time kissed Yaxlea full on, a deep muzzle-to-muzzle angle that had the vulp’s eyes wide with surprise.

“I want it” He murmured, murring into that thick maw before dropping to his knees in front of Yaxlea.

He physically pushed the fox back against the wall, and yanked his shorts down, diving the bridge of his muzzle under those heavy bollocks. A broad paw stroked his head as he inhaled and then ran his tongue up Yaxlea’s length, revelling in drawing out thick fox dick from an unwashed sheath.

“Smell good?”

“Uh huh” Sandy moaned before teasing a kiss to the bevelled raw tip, and swallowing his muzzle over the top.

“You’ve wanted this cock, ‘aven’t ya’?”

And now it was just a stifled whimper. Eyes met and growls of need sang together as Yaxlea ushered his young lover to his paws, and span him round, flushing his front to Sandy’s back.

“You’ve no idea how much I’ve wanted to lift your tail and fuck you.” The vulp rested his muzzle on the wolf’s right shoulder and whispered, murmured and snarled, whilst his paws relieved Sandy of his shorts. The hit of needy wolf, of day-old scent and fecund, wild male soared into Yax’s head as he pressed his aching member between those cute grey-furred buttocks; that tail, that damp rope of purest sex, was pinned high and wonderfully within biting distance.

A sodden syrupy phlegm drizzled onto his cock tip, spat from Yaxlea’s drooling muzzle, lubricating him for the taking of this gorgeous lad.

“I knew you’d be up for this. I knew you were gaggin’ for it, you little slut! I’m done with you teasin’, paradin’ around in front of me in thongs and speedos and fuck knows what else...”

“Fuck me, please. Please, I want it!” Sandy interrupted him, he just couldn’t take it. There was a high scent in his nose and a musk that he couldn’t resist; he needed relief so bad.

Caudal, anal, sexual ecstasy.

He pushed his hips back, inching Yaxlea’s member into him and crying out to be violated. Yax snarled as he hilted himself inside Sandy, grunting and groaning as he slipped in and out fast and hard, gripping a paw around the wolf’s shivering tail like a pet’s lead.

“I would’ve fuckin’ eaten that thong off o’ you the other day,” Yaxlea leaned close again, his hips and rump rolling mercilessly into that tight haven, “strip... tongue that hole.... then fuck you... hard!”

Each word was punctuated with a thrust, deep and sure and so so close to tying already. The growls got louder, paw pads got clammier and grips looser on fur, tail and wall such was the sore pleasure of the hammering each was takin’. Yaxlea could barely believe his luck, and Sandy was so high there wasn’t a pupil in his head.

“You ready for this, wolf boy?!”

“Do it to me... make .... ma.... ohh fuck... make me cum. Cum inside me!” Sandy’s voice was jilted and rocked by the sudden thrusting of Yaxlea’s body.

“Oh god.... oh fuck.... nnnnggghhhhh! Here,... here it comes!” Yax spread his legs and dug deeper, pummelling the young wolf with everything he had, slipping half-knots in and out of him with ease before the flesh and the mind just imploded.

The flick of Sandy’s tail as he spattered the wall with watery spunk, sent a spray of liquid sweat and scent zipping across the balcony, showering Yaxlea’s muzzle and shooting a thin stain across the windows. The sweat, Sandy’s dirty, aromatic pleasure, and that unwashed tail was just all too much for the old fox to take and he screamed out loud as he let go, holding himself to the knot to unload his bollocks into that tight ass. He shook and shivered, feeling every throb squeezed and hugged by Sandy’s spasming innards.

The warmth, the damp, the dripping, sweet effluence that stank so gorgeously to high fuckin’ heaven; it was all testament to Yaxlea having achieved what he wanted, awkwardly stood there panting hard in his come down and locked to the backside of his son’s boyfriend.

Sandy was marked and marked thoroughly.

The vulp leaned forward to whisper.

“Mmm... mine.”

Sandy just stayed quiet.

####

The shower he’d had nor the guilty snuggling he’d done since crawling into bed next to an all-out Emneth, was going to be anywhere near enough to cover it up come morning; and it all kicked off real early.

“Where the fuck is ‘e? Dad? Dad, where are you you sick motherfucker?” The young fox stormed out of the bedroom totally barefurred and snarling; he could still smell Yaxlea’s musk and cum deep in his nostrils. He fuckin’ stank! All he’d done was roll over to spoon his boyfriend, before hovering his muzzle in sleepy dawn kisses lower than the wolf’s tender grey waist line; and it was only then that he had smelled something distinct and disgusting.

“What’s got a tooth hold on your tail?” Yax was stood there in a pair of grubby boxer shorts, folding away his clothes into his case; and the room still smelled of the betrayal all these hours later.

“You fuckin’ well know what’s up!” Emneth prodded his nose to face off with his father, teeth dripping and grit in anger, “you can never keep your paws off what’s mine!”

The older vulp just smiled briefly and turned, focussing on putting away shirts and shorts.

“Be a good cub and go pack, hmm?” Yaxlea turned back, grinning evilly, “keep goin’ like this, and you’ll spoil the holiday.”

Emneth huffed and stormed off, pushing past a distraught Sandy who was stood clutching a towel about himself in the hallway and whimpering that he was ‘so so sorry’, over and over and over. Fuck it was starting to piss him off! Neither boyfriend nor father were in the best books; and this didn’t change throughout the entire journey home. A trio of tails that sat together whilst sailing into the sun, now lay strewn across the aircraft and mingled with stranger’s scents. Emneth wanted nothing to do with either of them; and it was no good Sandy coming up to him half a dozen times mid flight to try and say sorry. It got thoroughly repetitive and irritating after a while.

He had, in the midst of drowning his sorrows in a flow of red wine and spirit miniatures, said something to Sandy that he would probably later regret, because on the last round of apologising, the wolf burst into tears and dashed back to his seat. Em had been too drunk to remember what he’d said or done. He couldn’t care less anymore.

The fox couldn’t see the wood for the trees come landing time, staggering off and padding quickly out of the arrivals area, wandering or rather stumbling past a highly bemused Mr and Mrs Scott. He didn’t say anything to them; just scowled briefly and slunk out the doors to the taxi rank.

Yaxlea was gonna’ be driving home alone to an empty house; fuck him! Em would seek sage and comfort in the paws of his mum. Sandy on the other paw was ever so quiet when he came padding through those airport doors, gazing around sadly, trying to find trace of his boyfriend.

He hugged his mum all rather solemnly, eyes and nose lingering after that trail of alcohol-riddled scent that was the fox whose heart he’d broken.

“Everything OK, honey? You don’t sound or smell so happy.” Mrs Scott leaned out of their cuddle and stroked her son’s slender white muzzle.

“Too much sun and good times, Susan.” Yaxlea came up behind Sandy and answered the question for him, grinning boyishly as he squeezed a paw to the wolf’s shoulder, “ain’t that right, kiddo?!”

“Yeah.” Sandy murmured, smiling bravely but briefly, still utterly lost in thought.

####

The Summer had given way to Autumn before Emneth plucked up the courage to seek out some answers from his naive and cruelly deceptive mate-to-be.

He’d left the matter of his evidently bisexual father in the very capable paws of his mother; she’d delighted in giving Yaxlea a piece of her mind. Em just spent that time in tears, wiling away grey rainy days atop a cold duvet in his birth home, an earth but a few miles from his father’s residence. He could still smell his father’s pleasure on his boyfriend’s rump, tail and matted into his belly fur. It was fuckin’ gross.

But self-pity and blue scent aside, he had resolved come the turn of the leaves and having a renewed feeling of motherly-assisted bravery, that he’d pad over to Sandy’s work and confront him about what had happened.

The young wuff worked as a waiter in a small cafe in the city centre called ‘The Gates’. Busy and bustling during the summer, everything was quieter now with the loss of the tourists to their home earths. Sandy loved it as the little half-subterranean cafe was in the shadow of the cathedral, a splendid awe-inspiring sight that he’d said he never grew tired of; and besides, it kept him dreaming. It was where he’d said he’d want to marry Emneth someday.

The fox couldn’t bear to think any more along those lines. It just brought up a horrid mix of tears and anger that was hard to hold back.

The city weather was grey and rain-soaked, Emneth padding his way past the coffee shops and department stores with that musty smell of damp fur and cold, wet concrete deep in his nose. Footpaws transferred from the chewing-gum marked pavements to the nostalgic slipperiness of the cobble stones that lead up towards the cathedral; and his dark yellow eyes burnt all the brighter now. Sure he needed answers, but he also had to admit that he just wanted to see him again; see that bright smile, that cute tail, feel that sweet breath on his muzzle. He guessed that perhaps he’d forgiven Sandy at an instant all those weeks ago; he just couldn’t bear to be without him, and was prepared to work on what they had. Em really wanted it to work.

Paws in pockets, he slunk under the lychgate and out into the courtyard, tall vulpine ears full of the echoes of dripping masonry and tearful ivy that shuddered in the unforgiving October shower; and now his heart sunk.

The cafe was off to his left, the outside tables cowering under their colourful umbrellas, all alone in the rain but for one brave soul. It was Yaxlea, sat there in his long leather rain coat with tail flopped over a neighbouring chair for dryness and comfort. Emneth growled under his breath before padding the last few yards over towards the tables, garnering nothing more than a wry grin from his father as he came to sit opposite him. Yaxlea was supping gently from a fresh cup of coffee, both paws cupped about its heated sides, the wisps wandering off into the afternoon air like ribbon vapour trails from the crushed engine of that muzzle-warming caffeine.

“Didn’t think I was in your good books.” Yaxlea murmured, sighing happily with another gulp of coffee.

“You’re not.” Emneth looked up and snarled as he adjusted his jacket about himself, trying to keep dry, “neither of you are. I’m... I just wanted to see Sandy that’s all.”

Yax just carried on drinking with that irritating smirk on his muzzle. It had been like a race; he was here first, and he was gonna’ claim his prize once Sandy came by to top up his drink. There was a carrier bag at his footpaws too. It was full of something or other; Emneth couldn’t make it out. He just sat there trying not to focus on his father, staring off into the rain shower and the gloom, awaiting the appearance of the same tail.

Neither had to wait very long; but Sandy wasn’t so thrilled to see either of them, let alone both at the same fucking table. He had emerged from the subterranean kitchens, bathed in a gorgeous warm glow, to check to see if any customers had taken seats out in the rain. With an aching heart and a deep, brave sigh, he padded up the stone steps and towards the table.

“You... you guys need anythin’?” Sandy murmured with drooped ears, busying himself with his notepad and apron to avoid as much eye-contact as possible.

No sooner had he appeared, Emneth had got to his paws almost in respect; but the wolf paid no notice. Yaxlea on the other paw stayed where he was, pushing the empty coffee cup over towards Sandy, leering a stare at the wuff’s smart uniform. It was only now that his son realised that the cup was of another brand; he hadn’t got to Sandy first at all. He’d been waiting in the rain just like him.

“Just a large black coffee for me, mate.” Yax played his tongue between his teeth, grinning at Sandy as the poor boy desperately tried to scribble it down as quickly as possible and make it away in one emotional piece, “and when you’ve got a second, I’d be honoured if you could sit down on me... I mean, sit down with me. Got somethin’ for ya’...cutie!”

Freudian slip or not, that was the last straw for Emneth.

“Oh for paws sake, would you leave ‘im alone?!” The fox, paws propped to the back of his chair, leant in and hissed at his father.

“Ha! Why don’t you make me?!”

“Just shut that fuckin’ muzzle will ya’, before I shut it for you!”

“Bring it, pencil sheath!” Yaxlea shuffled his chair back, scraping against the stone, leaning over to meet his son’s snarl, “you wanna’ fight over ‘im, let’s go!”

“Why don’t you go back to eatin’pussy, old fox!”

“Yeah? Well if I hadn’t done that to your mother, you wouldn’t be ’ere, sunshine!”

“You made me, brought me up, so now leave me the fuck alone! I’m a grown fox for fuck sake! Sandy’s mine.”

“Can’t make ‘im cum like I can, boy!”

“Oh for paws sake, you really are a piece o...”

“Shut up!! Just shut up!” Sandy snapped, stamping his right footpaw and slinging his notepad to the wet stone. Emneth and Yaxlea fell silent, suspended in their argument over the white plastic table, tails swaying out into the rain having forgotten all that was around them.

Emneth was closest and turned to try and rescue what they had.

“Sandy baby, please I...”

“No, you can shut the fuck up! I’ve had it up to here with both of you.” The wolf, his muzzle soaked in the rain, bore his teeth and snarled like he’d never done before, “I’m done! I don’t want either of you, OK?”

“Wuffy please?”

“Don’t you fuckin’ wuffy me!” Sandy turned, growling at Emneth and not letting those now dulled yellow eyes out of his own cutting vision; this was his turn at last, “you’re so fucking paranoid and controlling. You never ever let me do my own thing or trust me around anyone. I don’t... I don’t want you near me anymore.”

A self-righteous feel-good scent hit the air, coming from over the table. Yaxlea’s narcissistic grin said it all; but he was to be sorely mistaken as Sandy’s keen nose was picking it all up.

“And you...” The wolf turned and leant down, propping his paws to the table and pushing Yax back into his seat, “Emneth’s right about one thing. You really are a dirty old fucker! I won’t deny it; that night was fun. But it’s only because you drugged me up so I wouldn’t resist. I don’t want you, I never did and never will. I’m so far out of your league, it’s not even funny! You did wreck what little I had left, just cos’ your mind was in ya’ sheath.”

Yaxlea’s muzzle was stunned. There was little anyone could say if they were honest. Sandy just brushed off the raindrops from his apron and picked up what he had thrown down.

“Don’t call me, come lookin’ for me or anything cos’ I’m not interested. Oh, and you can fuckin’ swivel for ya’ coffee! I want you both outta’ here. Now!”

“But... but baby, I...” Emneth was trying his best, big red-black ears pinning back in submission.

“Now!”

Sandy shrugged off a comforting paw with a swipe of his own, before padding off back to the kitchen in floods of tears.

“Wow.” Yaxlea murmured to himself, eyes widening with surprise as he got up, plastic bag in paw, “I guess that’s a ‘no’ then?!”

Emneth was just left standing there, gazing over at the steps down to the cafe kitchens, his nose lingering after the trail of that one sweet little wolf who had once made him feel so complete. He suddenly felt so alone.

“Em? Emneth, you comin’?” His father had padded out into the courtyard and was looking back at that tearful muzzle.

The vulp shook his head and closed his eyes before solemnly making his way out onto the cobbles; it would be a long and painful walk home.

“Heh, guess ya’ gotta’ give it to ‘im. Finally found ‘is bollocks!” Yaxlea was so matter-of-fact about it all; the brushed-off attitude was so grating.

“Dad, please!” Em murmured, holding a paw to his head and screwing up his eyes. His whole body ached, ears to tail and back again. And the rain just came down harder, merciless on bare footpaws and fur, making him shiver and shudder under the thin layer of his coat.

“Hey come on, take mine!” Yax stopped and, putting the carrier bag down between his paws, started taking off his heavy winter jacket to give to his son.

“I don’t fuckin’ need your charity.” The vulp snarled in reply, eyes curtained by his damp head fur that drooped down in auburn sabres, “I just wanna go home!”

“I know you do mate, but come on. You’re gonna’ catch ya’ death walking through the city like that. Take it, come on! Please?”

Emneth stopped and sighed; you couldn’t see whether there were tears there, or whether it was just the rain. And now the pair were stranded apart in the grey and the gloom, like broken pawns in the downpour.

“Look, if it means anything, I’m sorry for what I did OK?” Yaxlea’s shoulders slumped, paws gripping at his coat and fur gradually getting soaked, “I took a chance at the wrong time with the wrong tail. And for that I’m sorry. I really truly am.”

There was no reply at first, nor did his son turn to face him. Yax tentatively padded forward and carefully draped his only-cub into his coat; and there was that soft, unmistakeable mew. Emneth couldn’t help it. It was the scent of home, of warm earth walls and food, of good company and familiar aromas... the scent of a father who he knew, deep down, was indeed sorry for what he’d done.

“There’s the game on Sky this afternoon. Spurs-Arsenal... should be good! Got some beer in the house too.” Yaxlea was trying his best, paws now squeezing gently to his son’s shoulders, “I... I don’t want to have to watch it alone knowing you’re out here drowning your sorrows and freezing ya’ tail off.”

Still nothing, just a panting train of breath fizzling out against the city masonry, roads and bitter bitumen beat.

“I miss having you in the house Emneth, I really do. Come home with me mate, please? You can have a nice hot shower, and you can get comfy whilst I get us some dinner. Then you can watch the match with your old dad hm? Beds all made and there’s plenty of your clean clothes still at my place.”

A paw reached back, breaking out of the young fox’s stare and making contact with that wilting olive branch.

“OK” Emneth murmured, looking back into that deep golden stare with a smile, “let... let me scent Mum first. I wanna let ‘er know where I’m gonna’ be.”

“That’s my boy!” Yaxlea nosed his son lovingly before picking up that crumpled plastic bag and wrapping a proud paw about Em’s shoulders, re-starting their walk back through the city.

####

“’s it on yet?” Emneth came padding down the stairs, lush blue towel about his waist as he dried his ears and head fur with another.

“Give it a couple o’ minutes. Should be after this ad break.” Yaxlea was through in the kitchen getting the evening meal ready.

The house was deliciously warm, gazing out onto the city centre from a posh side-street draped in autumnal drizzle. It was a great feeling to be home.

“Your clothes are on the sofa, mate.”

“Cheers Dad.”

Emneth slunk into some comfy attire, before curling up on the couch, footpaws bent to the knee and tail draped to dry off over the paw-rest. The heat of the shower combined beautifully with the earthen cosiness of the house, rich orange glows that came from the table lamps and sconces giving it a hearth-like quality, almost cavernous; and the aromas, my goodness. Dinner sure did smell good! Wet, soaped-fur and day-old musk were giving way to roast chicken and rich creamy sauces that would make any fox’s tummy rumble.

With muzzles happily nomming, senses inhaling that mix of rich contentment and hoppy lager, father and son were settled in front of the TV for the night. Mum had scented and said that, as much as she didn’t believe a single word that came from Yaxlea’s muzzle – or at least, that would be a censored version of what was on Emneth’s 4pawz - she was happy to hear that the two males in her life had made peace.

“You want another?” Yaxlea made to get up, shaking his empty at his son.

“I’ll get ‘em.”

The older vulp smiled as Emneth padded off to grab a couple more cans, flumping back down and popping the belt on his trousers to ease digestion. The match had reached half-time, the sounds of the crowd, the pundits and the adverts filling the house now; you could almost smell the turf and the Deep Heat with the stadium surround-sound Yaxlea had had built in to the TV.

As Emneth came through and handed his father his drink from over the back of the couch, his right footpaw came into contact with something soft; it was that carrier bag. He leant down and picked it up before wandering back to the sofa chair, curling back up and delving in.

“What was in ‘ere anyway?” He giggled as he wandered a paw inside.

“Ahh, not much my boy.” Yaxlea cracked his can and took a first loud slurp, “I’d just bought a couple of pairs of new undies and a musk bottle for Sandy. You can ‘ave ‘em if you want.”

“Ewwwwww Dad!!” Emneth quickly recoiled and almost flung the bag away; but he couldn’t help but giggle, shaking his head as he kept the unwanted gifts in his lap, scrunched in their plastic home.

Yaxlea just grinned, knocking back another gulp. Randy sod!

The game got back underway, and father and cub were back to yelling at the screen, correcting every decision, and scrutinising all movers and shakers that took to the pitch. It wasn’t home without tails at unnerving and unpredictable angles as someone or other was closing in on goal. Em wondered how he did without it all; the scent, the fun and the bond he shared with the fox who had, in all truth, been a wonderful role-model and support his whole life through.

And sure, the beer was having an effect and the warmth of home was seductive; but Emneth had to admit that, as the last few minutes of live football crept up on them, his paw was sneakily back inside that bag. Those undies were real sporty and skimpy, just the kind he loved. Perfect size too. And that musk bottle felt so warm and tempting. The liquid eked between rim and seal to tempt and tease whomever had it in their paws; expensive, rich and irresistible.

The fox smiled softly, slipping the underwear and aphrodisiac back into the bag.

“You OK mate?” Yaxlea had noticed his son go all quiet.

“Uh.... yeah. Sorry, yeah I’m... I’m good, Dad.”

Emneth blushed; and it was then that their eyes met.