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The Perfect Pair

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Swimwear

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Boris the Beast

There was a lot of pressure being the eldest son of a multi-millionaire. Boris Fletcher knew this first hand and had come to the conclusion that it was his lot in life to succeed his father, Calvin. Calvin Fletcher was a very ambitious man that was just reaching his fifties. As a career driven fox with sharp business acumen and a frugal approach to his finances, he was lauded as one of the up-and-coming stars of the business world. An entrepreneur that made various smart investments and knew how to play both the market and politics, Calvin had amassed a fortune. At the same time, he was very apathetic towards anyone who didn't obey his rules or meet his demands.

This was especially evident in how he deal with his youngest son, Blaine.

When Blaine had legally changed his name from Fletcher to Fluorite, Calvin and rolled his eyes and been dismissive of it. The day Blaine came home having announced that he was still undecided on what he'd major in college and end up extending his stay in tertiary education, Calvin shrugged and threw money his way. Even as Blaine acted recklessly and trashed their beach home in Sohomo, Florida, Calvin just threw money his way, had it fixed and went on back to making more money.

Then there was this latest bout of rebellion.

Boris rubbed the bridge of his muzzle, fighting off the tension headache that he had been sporting for the a week or so ever since his conversation with Blaine. Their father had been disappointed that Blaine had opted not to sit for his semester finals and threw a few cold words at Boris to convey to his brother but then went right back to managing his assets. There was threats of disowning the younger brother and some harsh punishments but they both knew there wasn't really much they could do given Blaine was legally an adult. Calvin could cut him off from the family fund but that would only cause Blaine to lash out and be very controversial, potentially dragging their family name through the mud and costing them cash. Besides, Boris always knew that the only reason that their father even really tolerated Blaine's presence was because he was probably the only one that would pump out a kid any time soon.

Boris was far too much like his father to do that.

Way too much like dad, he mused miserably. Too focused on my career to really lie down, find a woman and pump out a kid.

He didn't even get to know his mother. Cruel as it may seem, Calvin decided to opt out of a traditional marriage or even a traditional impregnation and instead hired a surrogate. She was paid an exuberant amount of money, had been artificially inseminated and then had her sign a non-disclosure agreement. Neither of the twins got to know their mother though from what they were told from their various nannies, she was living a rather extravagant lifestyle somewhere in California. There had been some controversy back when they were first born about who their mother was with some people speculating it was a famous movie star, a politician or even another entrepreneur but none of it ever amounted to anything concrete.

As far as Boris knew, he didn't have a mother.

If their mother didn't look to contact them after twenty-five years, he didn't want anything to do with the woman. That left him with the sinking sensation that he and his father were alike. No interest in women, no desire to start a family and solely focused on his career.

Somewhere behind him, a child screamed. The plane's cabin echoed with the cry and it reverberated through his skull like someone had rung the bells of a clock tower in the middle of his brain. That tension headache grew more severe. The plane was cramped with the majority of its passengers being college students eager to go down to Florida to spend their Spring Break. There were a handful of adults as well.

Boris knew others of his age would be amongst those seeking some reprieve from the stresses of daily life but that was just not in the cards. At twenty-five, he already had his own businesses and ventures - linked to his father's company, of course - but they were under his name. It was his plan that by the time he reached thirty, he'd be a multi-millionaire just like his dad.

That is, of course, if he didn't spend more of his time trying to clean up after Blaine.

His mind went back to that moment when Blaine declared that not only was he not returning to college but that he was now gay_and had a boyfriend. Knowing his brother, this was a tremendously _stupid idea. He could already see the future. Six months to a year from now, their father's apathy will force Blaine to abandon this attention-grabbing stunt, he'll break his boyfriend's heart and then they'll be right back where they left off but all the effort that Boris had put in to smoothing the issue over would have gone to waste.

Wasting my time and my resources...

In retrospect, maybe he should have gone to Blaine a lot sooner than wait a week before doing anything. He had hoped against hope that within that week, his younger brother would come to his senses and decide to come back of his own accord. There was some part of him that chuckled at the idea of Blaine trying to lift his tail to his lover only to realise he hated the idea and that would lead him down the path for returning home.

But that didn't happen.

So it was time to interfere.

"Attention passengers," intoned the captain over the speakers. "We've begun our descent. We will be arriving in Orlando in about twenty minutes. Please return to your seats and fasten your seat belts. Thank you for flying with us."

There was still time to fire off a quick email before the stewards and stewardesses would make their way down the aisles and force them to switch off their devices. Laptop on the tray, he quickly compiled the email to Lucian Garrows, his father's personal assistant and also the guy who had basically been the caring father figure that the two boys had needed growing up.

At twenty years his senior, Lucian had moved from Sohomo and come to Manhattan to study. He got an internship with Calvin Fletcher and became the then-young business mogul's personal assistant. Lucian had been introduced to the twins when they were ten years old and from then on, had basically been part of the family.

If there was anyone that Blaine respected, it was Lucian.

"Hello Lucian," Boris began the email. Even to a personal family friend and using his personal email, he still was very formal. "I am on my way to fetch Blaine. If all goes according to plan, I will have retrieved him by tonight and will be back at home on the first flight tomorrow. I can book my own flights so no need to worry about that front. I would greatly appreciate it if you could keep dad occupied and deflect any questions he may have to my or Blaine's whereabouts. I will keep you appraised of the situation as it develops.

With thanks, Boris Fletcher."

He hit the send button, waited until there was nothing in his outbox and then closed his laptop, shoving it into the only thing he had brought with him - his leather briefcase. He didn't anticipate that he'd be long in Sohomo. All the arguments he had to convince Blaine to abandon this farce were already well planned and the slim, coppery-red fox with sharp, blue eyes was already prepared to fire them off one by one for when he met his brother.

That didn't stop the headache that creeping up from his muzzle towards his eyes, however. One key difference between him and Blaine was that he was forced to wear glasses. While his eyesight wasn't that bad, years of staring at computer screens, hunched over his desk and reading documents well into the night had made them somewhat necessary. He removed his square glasses briefly and pinched the space on his muzzle between his eyes.

God, this is going to be tough.

After a further twenty minutes, the plane had landed. It took another ten before they reached their gate. Another _five_before he actually got up and off the plane. Like his father, Boris believed in frugal decisions and he didn't see any reason to pay for a first class flight when he was just going to Florida to get his brother. On the other hand, it would have been cheaper to just drive down there but he didn't have the time. The trip would basically take an entire day and if he was missing for more than a couple of days, his father would be asking questions.

If Calvin Fletcher had learned that the only son that could potentially produce an heir had become gay - regardless of whether or not it was just a stunt to get attention - he might make do on his promises to disown Blaine. There was a good chance that he might not but Boris couldn't take that chance.

Boris loved his brother despite all of Blaine's faults.

He removed his glasses for a moment, letting the world become a little blurrier as he waiting in line at the car rental kiosk.

Jesus, Blaine, why did you have to pick being gay as this year's thing?

There was a lump in his throat and a heavy weight in his gut by the time he shuffled towards the kiosk, paid for the deposit and got the keys. The car he got was nothing too special, a grey sedan, which only reminded him of the day Blaine drove up in this bright yellow sports car. Their father didn't even bat an eyebrow; merely sighed and asked, 'How much?'

That's just our dynamic, I guess. Dad makes the money, I worry and Blaine gets into trouble. Our own, dysfunctional family.

Boris had to wonder exactly how long he could keep worrying, however. Everyone had their limits.

It was still a good hour-long drive before he ended up in the small town of Sohomo, Florida. A little longer because of traffic. Spring Break was upon them with the big week starting in just a few days and that meant that there was a lot of rowdy college students eager for some degree of relief from their studies. He had called up Blaine's college friends earlier in the week to ask if they were planning on bringing his brother back. Naturally, they had been equally shocked when Blaine had told them he was now gay and going to stay at Sohomo. A few of them theorised that this was Blaine's attempt to get back at them for ditching him in favour of their studies. They had promised Boris that they'd bring him back.

Of course that was four days ago and since then, no matter how many times Boris called, none of them answered. Even Blaine wasn't answering anymore. He was a little worried but knowing his brother and his friends, they were probably in the middle of a pre-Spring Break frenzy and didn't have the time or energy to be answering his calls.

It was during the drive and while he was caught in a moment of gridlock that he got an answer from Lucian.

"Hi Boris, you don't need to worry about your father. He's currently embroiled in some audits that will demand his attention. He'll be glad not to have to worry about you or your brother for a few days. Enjoy the sunshine and environment down there for a while longer. No need to rush home. I've cleared your calendar and will take care of any administrative things. I'll send you anything that needs addressing and is urgent. You wouldn't want to be around your father right now anyway. Take care, Lucian."

Good old Lucian. Always diving in front of danger for the boys especially when it came to their father's ire. Calvin could be mostly apathetic but even he had his limits. If there was an audit taking up his time, any distraction from it - especially one that would require some cash to cover up - he would very likely lash out in some way. A business man knew when to cut his losses from a venture and if Blaine's only lifeline had been the fact that he might produce an heir, then he was not going to cut the troublesome twin out of his life in the heat of the moment.

Of all the stupid things his brother had ever done, this was by far the worst.

Boris could only shake his head in disapproval as parked his car in front of the Fletcher beach home in Sohomo, Florida. It was the middle of the day and there was already a party in full swing. The music could be heard from several streets away and as he drew closer in the bland, grey sedan, the constant thrumming and drumming only caused his tension headache to get worse.

"Goddamnit, Blaine," he mumbled.

Stepping out of the car, he adjusted his red tie lightly, loosening it so as not to look like a total buzz kill. He had been to these parties before and while he had enjoyed himself back in the day, he was a grown man now; an adult with responsibilities. While Blaine may have had the luxury to go to Spring Break because he purposefully delayed his graduation by years, Boris had a company, reputation and their father to think of.

And now he's gone and decided he's gay just to spite dad...

It had been a long-standing assumption that if anyone_was ever to produce an heir to the Fletcher family name, it'd be Blaine first. Considering how much sex and girlfriends the younger of the twins had gone through, it was a foregone conclusion. Boris had purposefully avoided any sort of romantic entanglements as his first priority had _always been his career. Yes, it was somewhat irritating when his father would try and set him up with some socialite or heiress to further his own goals but it was never a persistent thing.

Now that Blaine had decided he would be gay, Boris knew that his father would start hounding him to pump out a kid. The last thing Boris wanted was to have a child out of social obligation and neglect it due to his responsibilities. That wouldn't be fair to the kid. Just as it wasn't fair that Blaine had thrown aside possibly the only thing that had kept him in their dad's good graces.

It's just another phase. Another attempt to rebel.

By Christmas, Blaine was probably going to come up with some other way to irritate their father and he would be breaking the heart of some guy that he had hooked up with. That was likely going to cause no end of controversy and Boris would have to be responsible for cleaning it up.

Probably a good thing I haven't told dad about this yet...

He grimaced at the thought of what his father would have to say about all this.

The front doors to the mansion were wide open and there were a few guys hanging out on the patio, shamelessly flirting and mostly dressed in little else than their swimwear. Little surprise really given Spring Break had just started. To Blaine's credit, he was committing to this 'I'm now gay' bit as there wasn't a single girl in sight.

Sighing to himself, he asked one of the attendees where he could find his brother. He was directed to the back of the house where the majority of the party was being held. It probably wasn't a good idea to go through the house for the moment. There were a lot of people and he didn't wan tot have to think about all the cleanup he'd have to do when he finally convinced Blaine to drop this charade.

So he made his way around the sides of the house to the source of the loud music. He plugged his ears and again asked one of the partygoers where he could find Blaine.

"You mean Trent's boyfriend?" the spry otter with the body of a supermodel asked. "He's over there serving drinks!"

Of course he is.

Following where the otter pointed, he fought the urge to call the man a liar. The only guy behind the bar was this _huge_bodybuilder. Right species but there was no way that could be his twin brother. Sure they had taken different paths in life and Blaine had always been a bit more athletic than Boris but the guy behind the bar wearing nothing but a rather revealing, deep red thong couldn't be his brother...?

Wait a second...

As he approached the bar, his jaw slowly dropped further open.

The fox behind the bar, standing about seven feet tall, was a titan amongst men; a walking anatomy chart pumped with testosterone and oozing masculinity. Every muscle was defined and pushed to their absolute limit, maybe even beyond. Boris had seen profession bodybuilders who would be green with jealousy at the sight of the vulpine's huge, taut pecs, pumpkin-sized arms and that perfectly symmetrical, hilly back.

More, the fox had a diamond stud earring in his left ear and piercing in each nipple, looking like there were huge, black door knockers hanging from each of his permanently erect nubs. The fox was so tall, in fact, that it was very easy to see the deep red thong he wore with the word 'Beef' drawn in bright gold letters vertically down the huge silhouette of his genitals. Nothing was left to the imagination with that garment.

"Blaine?" he yelled over the noise as he pushed to the front of the crowd. "Blaine!? Is that you?"

The fox caught his gaze, cornflower blue eyes shining. "Hey! Boris! You made it!"

Holy shit... it is him.

"What...? Huh?" was all he could manage.

'Blaine' waved at someone. "Someone cover for us! This is our brother!"

Boris knew his brother had never been good with grammar or vocabulary but he could have sworn Blaine had referred to himself using plurals.

The fox moved out from behind the bar - a new addition to the backyard - and gestured for Boris to follow him to a quieter location indoors. He was glad for the relative quiet as they entered the mansion. The moment they did, Blaine caught him in a tight hug. It was like being compressed by huge ball bearings and Boris let out a soft squeak.

"Oh! Sorry!" Blaine chuckled, releasing him. "Don't know our own strength."

Boris had to collect his thoughts for thirty seconds before he could manage to say anything. "What... What happened to you?"

Blaine beamed at him bright, flexing both his arms and showing off those impossibly mountainous muscles. "We finally found our calling with the Department!"

"The what?"

"It's a branch of the government dedicated to uplifting small towns like Sohomo into becoming huge, self-sustaining cities that will contribute more to the economy than just paying taxes and bringing in votes! It's called the Department of Socio-Political Economic Reform and Maintenance!"

Having had to be involved in a lot of his father's business practices, Boris had to learn about various government branches especially when it involved economics. This 'Department' had eluded him. Little wonder considering how the acronym for their was literally 'DSPERM' or maybe even 'DOSPERM' if one were counting the 'of'.

"And you decided to drop everything just to become like a spokesperson for the Department?"

Blaine folded his ears back and let out a laugh. "Oh hell no. We're not nearly as good looking enough to be a model like some of the other guys!"

Says you, Boris thought with a light blush on his cheeks. Damn...

"We're just going to be serving up drinks! A bartender! Everyone who works at the Department all need to take the edge off and we'll be more than happy to help them!"

Boris let Blaine's atrocious grammar fall by the wayside as he processed everything his brother was saying. "So instead of following through with your college-level education, you're pursuing a career as a bartender?" He let out a faint sigh of frustration, rubbing his muzzle to ease the tension headache which had started wracking his brain again. "Couldn't you at least own the bar instead? It'd at least look better to dad."

"Oh yeah, we're totally buying the bar," Blaine replied with a grin. "But that's a little ways down the road. Still gotta make it through Spring Break first! That's when the big celebration is gonna happen!"

"Big celebration?" Boris repeated. "You mean this..." He gestured at the party going on around them. "... isn't big enough? You know any bigger and you're going to trash the place. Remember what happened last time that happened? Dad wasn't very happy."

"Dad isn't going to be happy no matter what we do, Boris," said Blaine. "All he cares about is making money and making sure he does it himself. He doesn't trust us and so long as there's something in it for him, he's not going to ever care what we do."

That was the perfect path into Blaine's first argument. "Let's be honest, Blaine, the only reason dad is even tolerant of you right now is the fact that you're probably the best chance he will get to having a grandson. I mean, I'm probably going to end up the same path as him with the artificial insemination and a surrogate. I'm just too busy to devote resources into an actual relationship." He gestured with both paws at Blaine, his fingers pointing from his brother's bare paws to his head, stopping only briefly at his clearly artificially modified crotch. "But all this? The whole 'homosexual' thing? You're burning that bridge. The moment he hears about this, you're out the door."

"So you haven't told him then."

That would normally have caught anyone off guard but Boris was prepared for it. "No. I love you, Blaine. You're my brother. I don't want you throwing aside your future and family because of this."

He expected push back, resistance, outrage. The line of argument he had planned for was along the lines of 'What future?' or 'What family?' What he didn't expect was Blaine regarding him with a pitying look and a soft sigh. The huge, bodybuilding fox rested an enormous paw on his shoulders, that massive appendage enough to consume his entire shoulder and even slide up across his neck.

"Bro, we're so sorry."

All his arguments fell and crumbled like a house of cards. He brushed aside Blaine's arm and took a step back. "Sorry? For what? And what is with this 'we' business? You've never been the best at grammar but you've never been this atrocious!"

Blaine regarded him with calm features, eyebrows lifted slightly in pity. "You've lived yer entire life thinkin' there was no other way but ta dance to dad's tune. Everyone 'round ya expected ya to be like dad, to inherit his estate and carry on the Fletcher legacy 'cuz yer the eldest son. We're really sorry that all that pressure fell on ya. If anythin' we should've picked up some o' th' slack. We can't turn back time n' start now so we hope ya can at least be happy with yer lot in life n' let us be happy in ours."

His jaw fell open slightly in surprise. From his experiences, Blaine had always been selfish, egocentric and reckless. These words - even though they were severely butchered - were compassionate, insightful and heartfelt.

"Did the Department tell you to say that to me?" Boris asked defensively.

"Naw. We asked them to make sure that you were as far from this as possible. Can't help it if you came 'ere of yer own accord."

"Of course I'd come for you! You're my brother!" Frustration was rising from his gut and bubbling up his chest. That tension headache was getting worse and he lifted a paw. "I... I need to sit down. I've been fighting this headache since I left Manhattan."

"Here," Blaine said, guiding him towards the lounge room. The mansion itself was empty. All the merriment was taking place outside. It was up for debate whether or not this was some conscious decision on Blaine's part to avoid the ire of their father.

"I think I need a drink," he sighed. "They give you these small cups of water on the plane and it's barely enough to keep you hydrated."

"You prolly dun want anything in the house right now," Blaine commented.

"Has someone already spiked the water?" he mocked. "Just tap water is fine."

"Funny you should mention that..." Blaine got up and entered the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a glass of water right from the tap.

"Why is that?" Blaine asked, taking the cup with thanks.

"Because most of the stuff we're servin' here today is from the Department n' that contains the stuff that'll make ya into one o' us."

Of all the nonsense he had heard thus far, that was the one that really made him scratch his head and wonder if he was in some sort of alternate reality.

"I'm sorry. Could you run that by me again?"

In the most serious tone that he had ever adopted, Blaine straightened and clapped his massive paws on his equally massive knees. "Alright. Here's the truth. If ya were havin' any doubts that we're yer brother, we'll settle it now. But we gotta ask ya to promise you'll at least hear us out all the way. Okay?"

Boris took another sip of water before setting the glass on the nearby coffee table. "I've spent years listening to your bullshit and cleaning up your messes. The sooner you tell me everything, the sooner I can get to work fixing..." He gestured at his brother, once again lingering at that very pronounced package. "... all of this."

His bodybuilder brother gave him a faint smile. "Then 'ere it is." Blaine took a deep breath, his huge chest rising like to slat of steel. "The Department is changin' Sohomo. It's not gonna be jus' a Spring Break town anymore. We're rebuildin' the infrastructure, the system and everythin' about it. We're keepin' it's identity, o'course but more than anythin', it's not just gonna be a dead end town where kids get born from some drunken fling, get stuck here n' wait for the two or three weeks a year when they're remembered by the rest o' the world."

"That does seem like a bleak existence." Blaine shot him a withering look and Boris lifted his paws in surrender. "Sorry. No interruptions."

"If ya go out towards the told warehouse district, ya'll see that we're building power plants down there. All ecologically friendly. There is a huge thermoelectric power plant bein' built, tidal generators and there'll be a wind farm out in the ocean. Guys here are bein' trained on how to maintain them. Farms are bein' built on the outskirts of town. All sustainable. We're doin' the same with fish farms n' even pearl farms. When Spring Break officially kicks off in a few days, Sohomo will enter the next phase of its development. It'll be the last Spring Break fer this town."

That's nice and all but where do you fit in this, Blaine?

Sensing his question, his brother said, "Lots of new jobs are being around Sohomo. Someone needs to get people their drinks."

"So bartender," Boris sighed, unable to stay his silence. "You're the youngest son of a multimillionaire and you want to be a bartender."

"Ferget the first part. We just want to be a bartender because it's our calling. You know we liked getting drunk and partying. Owning a bar, socialisin', hearin' people's stories n' chattin' them up? That's us."

He couldn't deny that did indeed scream typical Blaine Fluorite. Of the two of them, Blaine had always had the most friends, the biggest social circles and the most well-liked. Boris' 'friends' were always just those that preferred to hang out with Blaine and just got to know him by extension. They wouldn't shed a tear were he to disappear off the map. The only other people he knew really well was Lucian Garrows and his father and they were family.

Did I really put too much effort in my career that I neglected my social life?

"Okay, okay," Boris said, holding up his paws. "Say I give you the benefit of the doubt. A government funded redevelopment project sounds like a fantastic opportunity. You're going into a profession that you're clearly made for and would fit with your unique skills." He grimaced and shook his head at his younger brother. "But what about this whole being gay thing? Is that really true or are you just saying that to get back at dad?"

Blaine glanced away.

Got him. This is how I get him to come back home.

He was back on track now. A weaknesses in Blaine's armour had been found. Now it was time to make his way through it then tear apart all of Blaine's other arguments from there. Boris was already planning his route through the conversation and was regaining confidence when Blaine, once again, said something that totally disarmed him.

"For once, it really isn't about dad."

Uh... what?

"Come again?" Boris asked.

Blaine locked gazes with him, his gentle, familiar features looking so alien mounted on that hunch-like neck that was practically consumed by his traps. "Tell us something. Why did you automatically assume that being gay was about what dad wanted?"

For a second, he struggled for the answer. "Because that's clearly what this is. You've had so many girlfriends before. Your sexual escapades are a constant source of scandal and every girl you've been with has always had to be paid off to keep her mouth shut. You also know full well that the only reason dad even tolerates this is because there's a chance you might break a condom or go bareback one day and end up impregnating a girl. Then he wouldn't have to pay for a surrogate or the entire process of artificially getting a grandson."

"Has it ever occurred to you that there's a reason that none of our girlfriends ever lasted?"

Just how many times is he going to throw a curve ball at me like this!?

"Please don't tell me you're running with that argument," he groaned. "I'll concede that, in my opinion, most of the women you've dated were... uhm..."

"Hos?"

"To put it mildly," Boris mumbled. "I just think that if you stop trying to catch the eye of ever girl who is willing to spread her legs for you, then you'll find someone who is actually decent. Someone who matches you perfectly."

"And what happens if that someone just happens to have a penis between their legs?"

He gave his brother an exasperated stare. "Is that really what you've found?"

"Trent gets us. We just vibe with him. He's lovin', compassionate, patient and, yes, a demon in the sack."

Trent Russo.

Boris only had the pleasure of meeting Trent once or twice a few years ago. He remembered the orca being like an overeager puppy who was more than happy to dump everything he had as long as it would get him out of Sohomo. Lucian had hired him to clean their pools and as Boris recalled, the guy was a little air-headed and naive. The man that his brother was describing sounded disciplined and mature. Though someone could change in the span of several years, he couldn't imagine Trent changing that much. He followed his brother's gaze out into the backyard and he noticed the tall, hirsute orca dressed in nothing but a pair of green board shorts socialising with others, a beer in a huge, meaty hand.

That can't be Trent...

Though as he once again traced the imaginary line between his brother's blue eyes and the orca's bright green, there was no doubt that was the guy that Blaine had fallen in love with. On a physical level, it was understandable. Trent had this very big 'daddy' vibe going on. Definitely someone who one could rest on and sleep against those plump pectorals and rounded belly while strong, warm arms held him tightly. It was not hard to believe that someone like that could be loving, compassionate and patient; kind of like a teddy bear.

The final nail on the coffin was when Trent turned towards them and gave a little wave with Blaine waving back.

That's him alright.

Then Trent did the strangest thing that had Boris' heart skipping a beat. He pulled a slightly shorter otter with the body of a beach side model towards him and the two shared a passionate kiss.

"Is that really the kind of guy that you're 'vibing' with?" Boris asked scathingly. "He caught your gaze and then kisses another guy two seconds later!"

"That's Ulric," Blaine responded. "He's basically Trent's brother. The three of us fuck all the time."

He recoiled in surprise, giving his brother a strange look caught between disgust and jealousy. It was like the right side of his face was twisted up in revulsion while the other was curled in envy. "You've got to be kidding me!"

"The society the Department is buildin' ain't like what yer used ta, Boris," Blaine explained. "Th' idea of monogamy, marriage n' th' pressure on havin' kids or makin' a family is all bullshit. Relics of a past that may 'ave worked two or three hundred years ago but ain't gonna work now when we're killin' the Earth n' eatin' ourselves out of house and home."

There was that tension headache again. Hearing his brother talking about a 'society' was adding credence to the theory he had somehow stepped into an alternate reality and was now in some sort of Twilight Zone.

"And this society involves people openly kissing one another in public despite the fact that they're in a committed relationship?"

"What's better, Boris? Bein' comfortable in your relationship that yer okay with sleeping with other people n' trustin' yer partner will always be with ya in th' end or bein' contractually bound ta force love to one guy n' never trustin' them with other people?"

"You're twisting the situation to suit your own argument. Marriage and a relationship is built on mutual trust. If you truly love someone, you won't need to sleep around."

"But who are ya puttin that trust on? Yer partner or yerself?"

Boris opened his muzzle to give an instinctive response but found himself choking on something. It was a lump in his throat that he just could not get around. He turned away instead and let out a loud cough.

"Look," Blaine said calmly, resting his huge paw on Boris' knee. "We dun expect ya ta understand. It's new. It's a different kind o' thinkin'. But we're honestly happy here."

Boris took a deep breath and let it out in a soft whistle through his nostrils. The headache was bringing up a lot of frustration and maybe even a little bit of resentment in him.

Why does Blaine get to be happy and I don't? Why does his always get to do whatever he wants and I'm stuck cleaning up his mess?

"Happy," he growled softly. "You're happy. Well that's all fine and dandy for you, Blaine, but where does leave the rest of us? If your track record has anything to say, this is going to blow up in your face and I'll have to clean it up. Again." He jumped to his feet, pointing an accusing finger at the unnaturally muscular fox. "If you care so little about dad, Lucian or me, then by all means, go gay, move here to Sohomo and sign up with some government agency that I've never heard of. Just don't expect me to come running when you cry for help."

Blaine's serenity was both incredibly disturbing and vexing at the same time.

"You're jus' tryin' ta get a reaction out o' us," accused his brother. "Ya want us ta get up, yell, stomp 'round n' rant on about how much pressure dad puts on us." Blaine shook his head sadly. "That's not us anymore, Boris. We've changed."

Clearly... Though I don't know if it's for the better.

"What do you want from me, Blaine?" Boris pleaded, pinching his muzzle again.

"Let us ask you this," countered his suddenly beefy brother. "What did you want from us?"

He frowned and silently cursed yet another curve ball that was thrown at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Did ya expect us to be in college forever? Did ya want to always come to our rescue every time we screwed up? Did ya think that, one day, we were gonna get some girl knocked up and come swoopin' in ta save the day? Was the kid gonna be the heir dad wanted? What'd happen to us? Or did ya hope we'd someday jus' learn ta grow up n' be like you or dad?"

The rapid fire assault of questions felt like he was under a withering barrage of gunfire. Boris sat back down and slumped into the couch. "I don't know... I really don't..."

"Ya liked bein' the hero," Blaine said gently. "Ya loved the idea o' comin' ta our rescue n' being the big brother that shielded us from dad. We told ya that we're sorry for puttin' all the pressure of bein' the heir to dad's legacy. Part o' that is cleanin' up after us because it wouldn't have been much o' a legacy if we screwed it up. So we're taking ourselves outta the equation. Ya dun have to take care o' us anymore, Boris."

Grimacing, Boris placed his paws over his face, shielding himself from the world around him. "What if... What if I never wanted to be the heir?"

For the first time, he sensed genuine shock from his brother's words. "Huh?"

He lifted his paws, clenching them into claws and holding them above his head. "My first memory that I can clearly recall is being told that I am Boris Fletcher, eldest son to Calvin Fletcher, and one day everything my dad built will be mine. That fucking memory keeps repeating over and over in my head every minute of every day. I've built my entire life to not only securing dad's legacy but also advancing it so that when I do inherit it, it'll be incredible! But no one ever asked me if that's what I wanted."

"Then why didya keep doin' what you were doin' if ya dun want it?"

Again, his paws fell on his face, almost slapping his eyes. "Because what else could I do? I'm so scared that one day, I'll wake up, dad will disown me or he'll suddenly realise that he's wasted his life and then I'll be left with nothing. What could I do then?"

"So it's fear..."

"Yeah." He sighed heavily. "Fear. Fear that I'll do something that'll disqualify me from getting a comfortable life. Fear that one day, I'm going to wake up a grey, old fox and realise I've wasted my life." Boris let his paws slump to his sides, his eyes gazing up at the ceiling. "I keep thinking that dad is going to retire soon, that he'll have some epiphany that'll give me control of the company or something else and then I'll finally be able to do everything that I wanted to do."

"Oh yeah?" Blaine laughed softly. "Like what?"

Boris let himself give a childish grin. "I wanna own Disney World."

"Duuuuude..."

"I know, I know," laughed the slim fox. "Dad is rich but not that rich. Maybe at least rent it out for a whole day or a weekend or something."

"What else?" Blaine pressed, giving him a light nudge with his knuckles.

Boris closed his eyes and dug deep into his most childish desires; those things he had never gotten to fulfil because of all the obligations he had possessed. "I want to go to Vegas. Not to gamble or anything. I hate that. Maybe go see a show or just see what it's like. I want to take a trip up the west coast. See the Grand Canyon, the redwoods, all that stuff. I want to swim in the Great Barrier Reef, walk up the Great Wall, go to the Eiffel Tower, spend a night in an actual castle and see the Pyramids. I want to see the Aurora Borealis and see a meteor shower. Sometimes, I just want to go far away from all the city lights, sit down on some grass and stare at the stars."

Boris groaned and shook his head. "But I can't do that."

"Why not?"

He straightened and tugged at his suit jacket to pull out any of the creases. "You know why."

"No. We don't." The piercing stare he got from his brother was chilling in that it seemed to stare right into his soul. "Boris, ya've lived yer life dancing ta dad's tune. Yer scared that he'll leave ya with nothin' and chances are, the bastard will do jus' that when he croaks because that's just the kind of guy he is. He'll prolly give ya a bit o' money, send ya on yer way and donate everything else to the Church or charity thinkin' he can buy his way into Heaven."

That does sound like something he'd do...

"Yer workin' yerself to th' bone fer nothin'," Blaine pressed. "It's time ta look fer somethin' else 'cuz yer headin' head-first inta a dead end."

Boris shrugged helplessly, his voice dripping with weariness. "I don't think there's anywhere else I can go. I'm two seconds from hitting that brick wall. All I can do is either commit to the crash in the hopes of ploughing through or jump out and get caught in the explosion to leave nothing but a bloody smear."

Blaine gave him a brilliant smile and told him to wait for a moment. The huge fox jumped up with surprising spryness and dashed out of the lounge room. He returned a second later with two bottles of beer. One he handed to Boris. "Even dead ends can be turned inta highways. Look at Sohomo. It was a dead end town only good for one thing but now...?" He spread his huge arms wide, making Boris smile.

"I suppose you're testament to that too," he mumbled, popping the cap off the beer. He lifted it towards his lips but Blaine grabbed his paw, preventing him from drinking.

"Before ya drink that," said his brother gravely. "We've gotta tell ya. That drink will start th' process into turnin' ya into a guy like us. Maybe not exactly the same but it's basically like yer signing a contract fer an internship with the Department. Ya can always bail out. We'll be asking ya four times if ya wanna join up and ya can always say 'no' at anytime. It gets harder every time we ask though."

Boris laughed softly and lowered the bottle. "What? Is this beer laced with some sort of government-created drug that'll make me gay?"

Blaine didn't say anything causing his jaw to drop.

"No way..." gasped the elder brother. "Are you fucking serious!?"

Blaine nodded gravely. "Boris, the Department's mission is ta find a way to stop overpopulation n' all o' it's consequences. Sohomo was basically 'mistake county'. People would get drunk, fuck without a condom n' then that's another mouth ta feed. Abortion was too divisive. The only solution was..."

"To make everyone gay instead," Boris growled fiercely, his hackles raised. "That's a violation of our freedom of choice! Our rights!"

"Ya sure? Like we said, we give ya a chance ta back out anytime n' even when yer in, ya can still abandon ship any time ya want. It ain't permanent."

"But... but... but this is mind control! It's not fair!"

"What isn't fair?"

Boris gestured at his brother incredulously. "That! This! All of this! It's not fair that the government funds your lifestyle! It's not fair that you get to be a bartender! It's not fair that you get to fuck around with anyone you like in what is basically a gay man's paradise! It's not fair that you get to be gay!"

Blaine tilted his head slightly and Boris realised he had just said something that he should not have.

"Whatdya mean we 'get ta be gay'?" His eyes narrowed slightly. "Boris... are... are you...?"

The eldest brother sighed heavily and slumped back into his chair. "Fuck..." He ran a paw down his face and regarded the bottle of beer in his other paw. "... You asked me if I ever considered there was a reason why none of your girlfriend ever stuck around. Well..." He locked gazes with his brother. "... did it ever occur to you there's a reason I've never had a girlfriend even though I know it'd make dad jizz his pants?"

Blaine's eyes widened in shock and he immediately sat back down right next to his brother, holding the smaller of the twins tight. "Oh fuck us... Boris... We... We never knew. We're sorry!"

Boris laughed miserably into his brother's thick pectorals. "Yeah well... I was pretty good at hiding it. I realised early on that if I pretended I was basically dad's clone, everyone would just assume I'd go down the very same path. Hell, you know what I think?"

"What?"

"Dad's gay too."

Blaine recoiled in surprise. "No shit."

"I'm not kidding!" he laughed. "I think dad grew up in the environment where being gay would mean you would never be successful. So he hid his sexuality and worked like crazy. Then, like he, he used work as an excuse for not being in a relationship, both homosexual and heterosexual. But people just assumed he was straight on default. Says a lot about our society..."

"It makes sense..." mumbled Blaine. "Dad paid a surrogate and had us. He never even touched a woman. Fuck... Wonder if he's still a virgin."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Boris sighed, pushing away from his brother. "But... yeah. I'm gay." He gave his brother a wry smile. "I've known for a long while. Hell, one of the reasons I stopped going to Spring Break with you was because I was scared I'd get drunk and end up sleeping with a guy. I was scared that would be the final nail in the coffin that'd get me thrown out."

His brother gave him a sorrowful, apologetic look. "Dude... you should've told us."

"Would you have listened? Would you have cared?"

"Fuck yeah, we would have! Yer our brother, Boris. If dad decides to toss you out for bein' you, then he's a fucking hypocrite because he ain't letting himself be himself!"

"Yeah well... he's got all the money so it's not like I have much of a choice..."

"You always have a choice," insisted Blaine. He pointed at the beer in Boris' paws. "You were scared that dad will kick you out and ya'll be left with nothin'. You've spent years cleanin' up our mess and lookin' after me. So it's our turn to look after you. We'll get ya into the Department. Ya'll get the job ya've always wanted, ya'll have a comfortable life right 'ere with me n' fuck dad! Whatdya say?"

Boris regarded the bottle in his paw. There was a siren song being sung from it. The temptation was there. Could he just leave behind everything that he had worked on for the past few years for this? Was it better to live in denial with financial security or at the mercy of a government willing to brainwash them for pseudo-freedom?

"And you're saying I could always back out?" he asked.

"Yeah. Doesn't happen much though."

Boris sighed and lifted the bottle. "Well... Even if it's just for Spring Break. Why the hell not?"

Blaine grinned at him. "So you wanna join the Department?"

"Yeah... for now." His eyes fell on the bottle and he offered his brother a lopsided smile. "So how does this work? I take a drink and suddenly I become big and buff and want dick up my ass?"

"Not that ya didn't want the latter already, right?" laughed Blaine. "But naw. What happens is different. Some background. We're called Breakers."

"Is that because your cocks could break any normal man?"

"Just shut up and listen," answered his brother with another light nudge with his knuckles. "Every member o' the Department is joined with their partnering symbiont, an artificially created being that turns you into the perfect or ideal person ya always wanted ta be." He pointed down at his crotch. "My symbiont is called Beef. Ya kept askin' why we kept talking in the plural. That's cuz we ain't just talkin' fer us. We're talking for Blaine and Beef."

Boris fought down his disgust again and tried to keep an open mind. "So there's some sort of... parasite in here that'll make me gay and built?" Before his brother could chastise him, he said, "Not a bad way to go to be honest."

Blaine smiled faintly. "Yeah, it ain't that simple. The P3 Symbiont isn't a thinkin' being. It's more like... some pre-programed primal urges that drive ya to do certain things like fuck guys, suck cock and all that shit. It don't force ya to integrate others inta the Department. Yer still you. But just a better you."

"I see that. You've never looked better, Blaine. Or happier." Boris sighed and held the bottle in both his paws. "I guess I'm still a little hesitant. I can't help shake the feeling that the government is trying to control you and make us all gay zombies for some nefarious reason." He laughed softly and waved a paw over his head. "There are all these apocalyptic scenarios going through my head. Like what if someday the symbionts gain sentience and start turning us into their gay zombies? What if the government suddenly decides that they don't want us anymore and triggers some sort of kill switch?"

"Not everythin's gotta be planned, ya know. We dun have to be ten steps ahead all th' time. But if ya still want comfort to that..." Blaine held up a finger. "We've got a counterpart for women. The Office of Virtuous Unity and Maintenance. They're doing the same thing but with chicks. Only they have the formula that can forcibly part us with our Symbionts an' we've got the same for theirs. If we step outta line or if they do the same, we can stop 'em. As fer th' government, ya dun have ta worry. We've got it on good authority that a lot o' the top brass are already party of this thing, both genders, and they occupy lots of the democracy from governors, senators, representatives and even the administration."

Blaine winked at him. "In fact, have ya seen our President? We kinda think it started with 'im and his wife but that's jus' a guess. Besides, if the government suddenly decides that we're obsolete and kills us off, what do ya think will happen?"

"We die," Boris answered simply.

"Naw, dude. The Department and Office are very wide spread and have been uplifting towns like this fer a while. The towns impacted provide a shit tonne of revenue and is one of the main reasons the economy is doing so well and our national debt is finally going down. If the government suddenly decides to kill us all off, that'll be millions of deaths and a lot of money lost." Blaine grinned brightly. "We're already part o' the system, dude! It'll be just like cutting out yer own stomach or heart jus' cuz ya read some online bullshit that yer body didn't need it anymore or that it'll help ya lose weight!"

That analogy made him laugh. On some level, he genuinely believed that there would be some idiot out there who would fall for the reason that if you didn't have a stomach to digest food and make it into fat, you'd never gain weight. Naturally, that would extend to the administration and governing bodies of the country. Someone, somewhere would believe the P3 Symbionts were an abomination and try to destroy them.

But I can't keep living in fear of that.

Dad lived in fear of being looked down upon for being gay and he's backed himself into this loveless, isolationist corner.

I don't want to be like that.

"You know what?" he said, gripping the bottle more tightly. "You're right. If I keeping fretting over what could happen, I'll never get anywhere. I need to think about what I want and what's right in front of me right now." He smiled at his brother gratefully. "And right now, my very hot brother is here offering me a chance of a lifetime. I'm taking it."

With that, Boris lifted the beer to his lips and took a mouthful. He almost gagged instantly but manged to force the brew down.

"Oh god..." he grimaced. "That's awful. Why is it... malty and salty at the same time!?"

Blaine grinned sheepishly. "That's 'cuz we Breakers infect others through bodily fluids and that's been infused with our precum. The steps ya eventually go through would be ta drink some more o' that, drink a guy's precum directly and then his cum. Sorry 'bout th' taste, though. It's still kind of experimental."

"If we're you're going to turn me through bodily fluids, couldn't you just spit in my drink or kiss me?" he grimaced, holding out the bottle at arm's length.

"Ya want us to kiss you?"

Boris' cheeks began to burn with embarrassment and he immediately sought to change the subject. "Do you have anything else I can drink?"

Blaine got up, offering his huge paw to his brother. "Sure. Let's go to the bar."

Taking his brother's offered paw, he was lifted off the couch. That tension headache was thankfully subsiding a little though he wasn't sure if that was because of the beer or the symbiont that was growing inside of him. Leaving the semi-privacy of the mansion exposed him to the blaring music again and that only intensified the headache, losing what ground he had gained. Thankfully, it wasn't that far to the bar and as Blaine occupied the back again, his brother pulled out a shot glass and poured some bright green liquid into it.

"Here ya go!" exclaimed Blaine, having to raise his voice to be heard. "This is highly experimental! It's a watermelon schnapps!"

Watermelon, huh?

"I'm not usually into shots but..." He grabbed the glass and toasted to his brother. "What the hell?" Tipping his head back, he downed the bright grew brew and was instantly hit with a very distinct flavour of watermelon. Nothing too sweet but quite mellow. The only time he actually felt the burn was when it was sliding down his throat. That headache ebbed in favour of the faint throbbing of heat that was swelling in his throat.

"Wow..." he coughed faintly. "That's actually really good."

"Glad ya think so! Have another!"

Blaine poured him another shot but he refrained for the moment before taking it. Though he picked up the glass, he turned around and cast his gaze at the party around him. Everyone in attendance had some form of garment that had a name on it. Given what had happened to Blaine, he guessed that these were their symbionts. As he looked a little closer, however, he realised that more than a few people were engaging in some for sexual activity.

Two guys were in the pool, the bigger one resting against the corner while the smaller of the two was sitting on his lap. By the clear blush on the latter's features and the fact that their hips were gyrating ever so subtly, it was evident what they were doing. Two guys dancing not too far away had their very erect dicks pressing up against one another, grinding into each other while eyeing each other seductively like the world's most obscene game of gay chicken. When he tried to look away from the very obviously large dicks, he caught sight of Blaine's fellow bartender getting a blowjob underneath the bar.

Oh wow...

Boris gulped loudly, that burning sensation spreading out from his throat and crawling up to his cheeks. He quickly downed the next shot, trying to focus on something else apart from what was obviously a not-so-subtle display of homosexuality. Having never been into any sort of gay gathering before or even openly acknowledging his sexuality, he was unsure what to do. The shot went down as well as the other, spreading that warmth further from his throat down his chest and towards his belly.

His eyes gravitated back towards where the bartender was getting a blowjob like his gaze was caught in some sort of rainbow tractor beam of cock. Following that muzzle sliding up and down what seemed like an impossibly huge cock stirred something primal inside of him. More than anything, he wanted to know what it was like...

That instinct caused him to lick his lips. Blaine must have taken that as some sort of signal because before he knew it, there was another shot of infected watermelon schnapps in his paws. He regarded it with surprise for a moment then looked to his brother who was just smiling at him knowingly. With a nod, swallowed the sweet brew and set the shot glass down. That fire had seeped down from his stomach down to his balls. His other paw instinctively reached down and cupped his package, adjusting them. That little movement caused blood to rush towards his cock, bringing him to full mast within moments. Boris but his lower lip, unable to keep himself from staring at the scene that was occurring just a few feet away from him.

Fuck... that's so hot...

His paws were moving automatically of their own accord and he was downing another shot before he could stop himself. A soft moan left his muzzle. The fire that had been raging all over his body coursed through his veins, pouring like pure, liquid alcohol from his stomach, down towards his legs and making his knees weak. Sweat began soaking into his fur, seeping into his clean, pressed shirt and starting to stain his jacket.

Two gentle paws gripped the shoulders of his suit jacket and he glanced over his shoulder to find that they belonged to Blaine.

"Let's take that off, 'kay bro?" said Blaine. "You're lookin' hot."

Unsure if that was a compliment to his appearance or just an observation, Boris could only let out a whimper and whine as Blaine's powerful paws moved around his waist and began to unbutton the garment. Once all three buttons were undone, he happily shrugged off the sweat-soaked garment. He wasn't sure where Blaine put it but he didn't care. What he was more interested in was watching as the balls of the other bartender seemed to swell and engorge as a waterfall of precum and drool slipped out of the receiver's muzzle.

His glass was suddenly refilled and entirely without thinking, he was dipping the glass towards his muzzle and downing its contents. The furnace in his stomach intensified, flaring out like a full-blown inferno that had him panting aggressively. The corners of his vision blurred as sweat dripped into his eyes. He barely registered when Blaine had moved around the bar and was suddenly in front of him. By the time he turned, he found his own twin brother's lips pressed against his own.

The big, burly fox was tender, gentle, and loving. His tongue snaked out into Boris' muzzle, sliding up and down the cavern of fangs and tongue, exploring an area that was so strangely familiar and yet tantalisingly forbidden. Boris instinctively made to push his brother away but his body quivered when his paws touched those firm, burning muscles. He could not help but run his thumb across the striations of Blaine's pectorals like he was strumming the strings of a guitar. His paws formed into fists, barely able to clutch onto any fur there as Blaine's pelt was stretched so thin across his engorged muscles. The moan that left his muzzle was entirely involuntary and he felt it echo within Blaine's massive chest.

His brother broke the prohibited kiss but those lips didn't wander too far. They gently pressed up against Boris' neck, the slightest peck sending a wave of arousal and stimulation through his body. It was like someone placing a block of ice on a red hot grill. The ice naturally melted but the sudden drop in temperature caused ever muscle and vein to sizzle. Blaine made a trail of kisses and licks down his neck, bolts of stimulating lightning rocketing through Boris' body to make him twitch and convulse. His moan was interrupted by rough chokes and gasps.

He bore his chest, subconsciously pleading to be released from the confines of his collared shirt. Blaine was happy to oblige, his fangs gently nudging his left collar to unfold before gripping the button. At the same time, his brother's paws moved towards the lowest of the buttons and began unfastening it. Almost at the same time, both buttons came undone and it was like a flood of heat came surging out with his exposed skin. Boris let out gasp of relief only to squirm and moan when Blaine's lips gently kissed the base of his neck. There was no other move he could make but to tilt his head back and let out a soft moan. Totally subconsciously, his other paw reached out, grabbed the glass which had miraculously been refilled and he took the other shot.

Boris' mind swam in a dizzying spiral of euphoria. All the cares of the world were forgotten. All that mattered at that moment was where Blaine's lips were and as his brother unfastened another pair of buttons, he convulsed, inadvertently thrusting his crotch towards Blaine. His arousal was in dire need of attention and he couldn't help but find stimulation in the sensation of brushing his hard cock against Blaine's equally hard thighs. So he did it again just as Blaine unfastened another button. His brother's lips licked his chest, the saliva oddly cooling to him and making his eyelids flutter and his body melt.

All strength was being drained out of his legs, burned by the titanic inferno that was raging in him and focusing entirely on his cock. Twin suns burned in his sac, devouring everything about his body until he was left with nothing but a gooey mush in his brother's arms. As Blaine's lips navigated towards his stomach, his whimered and gasped. His massive brother's paws gently seized his rump, squeezing the bony rear and keeping him standing against the bar.

Then Blaine reached his crotch. On an impulse, Boris thrust and his dick - still confined by his pants - brushed up against his brother's muzzle. It was impossible to resist what happened next because he wanted it to happen.

Blaine expertly unfastened his belt with his teeth alone and after that, it was very simple to undo the elder fox's pants. A pair of briefs, covered in heavy sweat and musky need was revealed, tented to the familiar seven inches of erect foxhood that leaked like a faucet. Blaine nosed Boris' crotch, wiggling his muzzle into the folds of the undergarment until he seized the tip of Boris' cock in his muzzle. The relatively cool touch of his brother's muzzle sent fresh waves of pleasure all over Boris' body, compelling him to thrust all seven inches into the offered mouth. Blaine didn't even flinch and Boris had to wonder how often he had gone down on others who were bigger.

Those thoughts were pushed aside when the raging inferno in his pants seemed to oppose the cooling touch of Blaine's muzzle. It erupted like a volcano, fighting to keep his body afire with pleasure and lust. Blaine seemed to sense this and slobbered all over his dick, that tongue of his performing mind-blowing gymnastics up and down his cock like a circus acrobat closing the show.

The two opposing forces fought a overwhelming reverse tug-of-war. His balls would surge forward, sending bubbling cum shooting towards the tip of his cock but then Blaine would slide his tongue past his muzzle and curl just underneath Boris' balls, the soothing touch pulling the drive out of that thrust. Then his balls would churn, thrashing violently in his briefs to push away that tongue. Blaine would counter but giving a series of powerful sucks, drawing the tight vacuum of his lips from the base of Boris' dick and dragging it across all seven inches before diving back down. Boris' cock spasmed, thrashing like a wild horse being mounted. Blaine held on doggedly and pushed his tongue against the base of Boris' dick, pushing into the sheath that had receded and coaxing the knot to inflate.

His body predictably reacted. Blood began pooling into the base of his cock, his knot swelling in size and straining the fabric of his briefs which was already stretched thanks to Blaine's muzzle. Some part of him worried that this was far too public, that he - Boris Fletcher - could not be caught getting a blow job in public. What if someone had a phone and was recording? What if this got all the way back to his dad? With the blood rushing to his crotch however, his brain was losing precious resources those thoughts were quickly overtaken with the need to cum. The raging twin suns of his balls burned away everything else.

Perhaps it was that final submission or maybe it was the fact that his knot had fully inflated but at that moment, Boris' symbiont began it's work.

His tortured balls seemed to realise that its current capacity could not fight against Blaine's expert tonguemanship. So, it had to get bigger. They gurgled loudly, the huge reservoir of cum inside doubling in size and pushing up against the walls of his sac. His testicles rapidly inflated, going from the size of walnuts to the size of lemons within seconds. Boris had to clutch onto the bar behind him for support as the pressure to cum became absolutely overwhelming. The tightness in his briefs only added to the sensation. A tearing noise filled his ears and when he glanced down, he could see the obscene bulge of his package pushing at the fabric of his underwear, starting to tear them to reveal the strained, white, fluffy sac beneath.

Boris could only let out a faint whimper before the his testicles attacked Blaine, using their newfound strength and mass to push against his brother's slick muzzle. But Blaine was not so easily outdone; he had taken Trent many times before, after all. Hiding a smirk, Blaine clamped down on Boris' dick before gyrating his head forward, sliding up and down the cock with an increasing pace. The rapid movements disrupted the flow of hot cum.

The need for release became overwhelming. Boris couldn't take it anymore. He needed to cum so badly but Blaine's expertise in pleasuring men was holding him down. In a moment of clarity, he realised there was only one way he could find the release he needed.

Slamming the shot glass against the bar, he shouted, "Give me another!"

Within seconds, the bartender who was in the midst of his own session, expertly poured him another shot, all the way to the brim. Boris didn't care if he spilled any on himself. He just brought it to his lips and practically breathed the entire shot in one gasp. The effect was like ramming a tanker truck filled with highly volatile gasoline right into a raging forest fire.

Boris' eyes boggled, going wide as saucers. The shot burned a blazing trail down his throat, shooting past his lungs, down to his stomach and made a beeline directly to his balls. He could feel the fireball travelling through his body until it slammed into his cock and-

Rrrrrrip!

His member simply exploded in size. His already impressive knot ballooned out, becoming the third lemon in the basket of his briefs. That was one lemon too many and the garment fell to pieces, exploding in a flurry of white, sweat-soaked cloth. No longer confined, his cock shot forward, diving right into Blaine's muzzle and throat like a bathysphere into the depths of the abyss. The explosion send all the cum that had been pooling in his balls rocketing up his dark red member, barrelling up the ten inches of cock that he now wielded and shot a torrent of cum right into his brother's throat.

Boris arched his back, his face twisted in a mixture of euphoric pleasure and blissful release. His claws dug into the bar, his hips thrust wildly into Blaine's muzzle and his balls jostled, happily jumping and pumping as it was finally able to unleash its payload. For his part, Blaine drank every drop, experting never letting a single teaspoon fall to the ground; just like he had been trained. Shot after glorious shot fired out from Boris, the world becoming a blur of colours and tingling warmth all that tension, all that stress just seemed to flood out of him.

Even his headache was completely gone.

Boris lumped against the bar when his six and final shot fired the last of his ball's contents. His vision slowly returned to him and he grimaced when Blaine gave his dick one last lick to clean him up. Mind swimming, he desperately didn't want to even think about the idea that he has just face-fucked his brother. As hot as it seemed, that was still technically incest. Maybe the government would eventually try and push aside that old stigma especially since there was no risk of producing babies involved but there was still a part of him that didn't think it was right. Another part was telling him to just forget that for now and just enjoy the afterglow.

But I can't... I've got to address it before it gets out of hand...

"Oh hell..." he mumbled softly, struggling to his feet. "Blaine... I... I uhm..."

His next words were muffled by Blaine's muzzle, interlocking with his own like two perfect puzzle pieces; little surprise given they were twins. Whatever part of him was opposed to the idea of having sex with his brother melted away into those large, firm muscles. He wrapped his arms around Blaine's broad shoulders, loving the idea that he found it difficult to find purchase against the mountainous back, and dove into the kiss.

He wasn't sure how long he was doing the tongue tango with his brother but it was not long enough. Boris was the one that broke the kiss this time, gasping for breath.

"We love you, Boris," Blaine said softly.

That was when he caught sight of his brother's eyes. The sclera were completely black. While his irises were that same, bright cornflower blue, it was the sudden darkness that caught him off-guard.

"Blaine... Your eyes."

For a second, his brother blinked and then chuckled softly. "Oh right. Hang on." He glanced off to the left and then the darkness retreated back into the corners of his eyes, black tendrils seemingly releasing his irises and sinking away. "It happens when we're really into it and we get in synch with our symbiont. We think the researchers say it's when we need more control over our body for more delicate stuff."

"Delicate?" he laughed softly. "Blaine, you were anything but delicate with my dick..." It felt very strange referring to his brother and his dick in the same sentence. That reminded him of his still-erect member hanging between his legs. A glance around reminded him he was surrounded by hundreds of other gay men and his cock was just hanging out there. Trying to fight for some dignity, he bent down and pulled up his pants... only to grunt in frustration when they wouldn't fit around his balls. "Fuck..."

"Let's get you somethin' that'll fit," Blaine chuckled.

He glanced at the twenty or so feet it'd take to get from the bar to the house and whimpered. Without warning, the floor was swept out form under him and he suddenly found himself being carried by Blaine's strong arms.

"Blaine! What the hell!?" he cried.

"Seemed like ya dinna want to walk all th' way there." Blaine winked slyly at him. "Plus, we get to do this." As his much bigger brother took a step forward, Blaine's muzzle pressed up against the erect cock just a few inches from him, making Boris quiver and moan.

"N - N - no fair..."

Boris flushed and floundered, gripping Blaine's shoulders tightly. Mercifully, with Blaine's long, muscled legs, the trip to the sliding glass door was short. There, he was allowed to stand on his own two feet and hurry back into the relatively quiet mansion. No one was inside so he headed up the stairs to the one room that had been his so long ago. Blaine followed him like a big, muscled shadow.

The room was just as he had left it. The last time he had been here was four years ago when he was still twenty-one. It was his graduation year and Blaine had 'kidnapped' him to spend one last Spring Break before he left to join their father's company. There was still that awful boy band poster that he had been obsessed with over his wall. A shelf filled with large, muscular action figures and a full-sized model of a barbarian from a famous videogame series stood on the far corner. An ancient desktop sat on a corner desk right next to a balcony that oversaw the backyard. The walls and glass were well made so no noise from downstairs could be heard.

Looking at those action figures, the posters and remembering the contents of that desktop, he wondered how he had gone for so long without being outed as gay. He still remembered lying in bed at night, eyeing the muscles of his statue and drifting off to sleep dreaming that he was in those strong arms after a long battle, ironically being carried much like how Blaine had carried him. There were bits of fanfiction that he had penned on that desktop involving such scenarios and he recalled having to force himself to avoid writing some sort of romance between his Mary Sue character and the hunky barbarian.

God... I was so stupid...

Still naked but with his boner subsiding, he padded towards the bed and sat down. "You know, it's really weird," he confessed. "Being back here, looking back at who I was, who I tried not to be... If I were to go back in time now, you know what I'd do?"

Blaine, staying respectful distance away by the door, cocked his head to the side. "What?"

"I'd bend him over like you just did and make him suck my dick, telling him that the little shit loves this and to stop hiding from everyone and himself." Boris laughed softly and ran his paws through his hair. "What's horrible is that I'm already thinking about ways to twist this to my favour. Like if I were to come out right now, I'd be able to tell the world that it's all as part of our company's push for diversity and inclusion. I could just imagine all the money we'd rake with my doing speeches and the good publicity we'd get. I could even write a book about it! Hell, maybe I could even run for public office on that platform."

His paws slumped by his sides. "But... that... that just feels like what I'm doing now; building defences to justify my flaws." He looked up at his brother pleadingly. "What is wrong with me?"

"Nothin's wrong," answered Blaine.

"Are you kidding me? I just had sex with my little brother! My twin brother!"

"Was it good?"

He gave Blaine a sour look. "Of course it was good. You've got to teach me how you do that thing with your tongue, by the way."

A knowing smirk crawled onto the bigger fox's features. "Does that mean you're going to stay gay now?"

"Of course it does," he huffed. "Not only because it feels good and freeing now that I've at least shared my secret with you but because I'm already in the process of convincing myself that it's good for business!" He dug his claws into his scalp and let out a frustrated cry. "But that's the worst part! I just keep thinking and thinking and thinking about it! There's this part of me that's afraid at one point or another, something is going to come up and I'm going to convince myself through logic and reasoning that I was never gay in the first place, it was just a phase and I was just deprived for attention! Maybe the only reason I feel that I'm gay is because I'm basically a clone of dad and I'm pretty damn sure he's gay too! Or that the only reason I'm gay is because you're gay now or that I'm gay because I'm fairly sure it's like the forbidden fruit and it is so hot right now to -"

Once again, he was interrupted by Blaine's muzzle pressing against his own and he melted against those massive muscles. A soft moan escaped his lips and he pushed himself against the hunky fox right in front of him. Blaine's sheer weight pushed him down onto the bed, the titan looming over him like a tent made out of muscles covered in red and white fur.

Blaine broke the kiss, his cool breath wafting down upon his brother. "Listen," he rumbled, "if it wus jus' you in the world. No one else n' nothin' else matters. Would ya stand on top of the highest mountain n' tell the universe ya were gay?"

"After a kiss like that?" chuckled Boris. "Yeah. I would."

"Then nothin' else matters. Not me. Not dad. Not the company. Even if ya leave here without a symbiont, so long as yer comfortable with who you are, that'd be a win. Isn't that all that matters?"

Boris' brow furrowed and he stared past Blaine's big traps at the boy band poster that hung over his bed. Out of respect, Blaine rolled to the side, occupying most of the bed. His enormous brother had to drape an arm behind his head just so that they could both fit.

"So even if I don't join the Department, you'll be happy for me?"

"We'd help ya out. You've spent most of yer life fixin' my screw-ups. If ya want to be the one messin' up n' going to bang every guy up and down the East Coast, we'll help ya out. We can tell ya which areas are Department-controlled, teach ya how to suck dick or take it up the ass, whatever ya want." Blaine grinned brightly at him. "It ain't 'bout yan joining the Department. It's 'bout you bein' you."

Boris laughed softly, crossing his arms behind his head and consequently resting them against Blaine's beefy forearms. "I guess that helps. Knowing that I'll have a safety net even if dad disowns me is pretty good."

"Fuck bro, we'd sick the Department on dad. We both know he ain't on the up-and-up. If we goes 'bout slanderin' ya or makin' yer life a living hell, we got your back!"

Lifting a paw, he waved away the offer. "It's a nice thought but dad worked hard to get where he is even if some of that work is shady. Just like you'd respect my decisions, I'll respect his."

"Fair 'nuff."

A long sigh escaped his lips as he looked down at his flaccid cock. The sheath had snuck back over his member though given how big and thick it was now, about an inch of his deep red dick was permanently poking out. "So if I decide not to join, do I get to keep this baby?"

Blaine shamelessly reached over and gave his dick a squeeze, pushing out another inch. Boris didn't resist and gave a little moan of appreciation.

"Sorry, bro. The process goes that if ya wanna quit, the Office gives ya a serum n' you have a literal mind-blowing orgasm. Ya ferget everythin' 'bout the Department, the P3 Symbiont n' become highly suggestible. Ya give us the life ya want n' we'll make it happen."

"Huh... So I basically get a fresh start?"

"Basically, yeah."

"What happens to by Symbiont?"

"We'll find 'im another home. There are other guys out there that get integrated that way."

"Oh. Makes sense." Boris shifted in the bend, resting on his side and facing his brother. "What about... you and me?"

"What 'bout us? If ya want to remember us, that'll be a thing."

"No... I meant more about... you know... us being brothers and..." A flustered head was rising in his cheeks again. "... and me wanting to fuck you really badly."

To his credit, Blaine didn't let go of his brother's dick. "If ya end up fergettin' 'bout the Department 'fraid that it'll be like we never met. We integrate through bodily fluids remember? There's gonna be a risk that if we pretend that we ain't brothers n' we occasionally fuck during your coast-to-coast fuckfest, ya might still get a symbiont again."

"I... wasn't talking about that," Boris mumbled. "I was talking about if I were to join the Department... would they turn a blind eye to us... you know... having 'fun' together?"

Blaine suddenly threw his head back and let out a fit of riotous laughter. Boris immediately regretted asking and almost curled up into a foetal position. Unfortunately, with his brother's paw still tightly on his cock, it was like he was wrapping himself around that meaty arm.

"Izzat one o' yer fantasies?" asked Blaine.

"M... Maybe... Honestly, I've always found huge, muscular guys like you... confusing. You'll never hear me disparage anyone who spends a lot of time on their body or maintains their physique. I've always admired them and have always been tempted to touch muscles like these..." He gently ran his paws over Blaine's massive chest before sliding his fingers down to those abs that could cut steel. "... I don't think I'd ever want a body like it... but the idea of curling up next to someone with such a body every night, waking up to the sun's ray cresting over these mountains... watching the muscles move during a workout... It gets me excited."

"I can tell."

The entirety of white fur on the fox's body turned pink with a blush. No denying that his cock was emerging once more from his sheath.

"Ya know, there are other guys that with bodies like mine around Sohomo," Blaine suggested.

"Yeah but... You'll be the one that turned me, right? That's something special. I was... I was kind of hoping that the Department would still let us fuck around a bit."

"What makes ya think they would mind?"

"Uh... It's illegal and they are part of the government," he answered with a sarcastic edge.

Blaine pressed their noses together. "Get up. Let us show you somethin'."

Still with only the remnants of his briefs and his open, collared shirt, he rose from the bed. Blaine beckoned him over to the balcony where the titanic fox easily rested an arm against the top of the door frame. With the other paw, Blaine pointed at two otters that could have looked like brothers. Both were in the water and passionately making out. He was _fairly_sure that the one with slightly grey temples was inside the younger one.

"See those two?" Blaine asked. "Gustav and Ulric Russo. Father and son. They fuck all the time. Almost could call them a couple. Hell, they even love it when you let them double penetrate you. Being sandwiched between two supermodel otters is a fuckin' dream." Then, Blaine pointed at where a group of lizards were crowding near the back of the yard. From a distance, it was hard to tell that they were completely naked save for their pale-pink cocks. There were five of them with two giving the other three blowjobs. "Those are the Fitzgeralds. One dad, four sons. They're gonna be running one of the hotels around this place. It's a family business and ya can tell they're really close."

Boris frowned slightly. "I don't know if I stepped into a porno or should make a comment about expecting this sort of stuff given we're in a southern state."

Blaine gave him another knuckle-nudge. "Bro, yer not listenin'. The Department don't care who ya fuck. The only real risk of incest is that stuff that's screwin' up yer genes could get magnified when ya fuck n' pop out a kid if th' mother is related to ya. Incest is 'forbidden'" - he made air quotes - "because of shit ingrained into us from religion. But here in the Department, when ya get merged with yer symbiont, you ain't just the X and Y chromosomes yer parents gave ya. Yer more. Those 'flaws' ain't there no more. Hell, genetically, we ain't yer brother."

That made him tilt his head. "Wait... really?"

Blaine turned to him, placing his fists against his hips and flexing. "Bro, we're seven feet tall and built like a tank. Apart from our eye, fur and hair colour, we look nothin' alike."

That's true...

"So the only thing defining you as my brother is..."

"A piece of paper," Blaine finished with a nod. "And our history. But somethin' tells us that's exactly what turns you the fuck on."

He glanced away with a faint chuckle. "You know I don't make friends very often and I'm that awkward introvert while you've always been the popular extrovert. I'll be patient and maybe I'll find someone that could be a partner to me like Trent is to you but... in the meantime... do you think...?"

Blaine wrapped an arm around his shoulder, bringing him close. "Bro, we're happy to always be there for ya. Everyone in the Department is like family."

"Don't say that," he laughed, pushing his brother away. "You'll make me want to sleep with each and every one of them."

"Dayum! You're a kinky little fuck, aintcha!?" Blaine sat back down on the bed, patting the space between him. "What else turns ya on."

His cheeks burning once more but at the same time, his exposed cock throbbing with need, he turned away and scratched his cheek ruffs absently as if that would relieve some of the heat that was building there. "Well... I once saw this video of this super-muscular guy in a sixty-nine with another guy. It came up on my feed totally by accident..."

"But you totally saved it and sneak a peak every now and then, dontcha?"

Boris wrung his paws together in embarrassment. "Yeah... I kept trying to reason it was all me looking at what to look out for and to note how ridiculous something like that would be. That these guys are clearly actors and that would never really happen in real life."

"Dunno 'bout that." Blaine gripped his massive package hidden by that tantalising thong. "We know Breakers can be pretty fuckin' big but our bodies have changed ta th' point where we can take these two-foot-long monsters in on either end."

"Well... it's not an ordinary sixty-nine... See, the bigger guy was standing, he grabbed the smaller one, flipped him upside down and..."

His brother's eyes glistened with curiosity. "Ooooh! Gotcha. Well, ya gotta know, yer prolly not gonna be able to take us until yer mostly on the way to completin' yer integration."

Instinctively, he regarded Blaine's package and said, "I can take that."

"No. No ya can't."

To emphasise his point, the thong cupping Blaine's genitals suddenly seemed to liquefy, transforming into a sort of elastic rubber. The substance moved on its own, peeling away tantalisingly from Blaine's cock, unleashing the monster it had been hiding. Somehow, the substance - Blaine's Symbiont, Beef - had been hiding the true size of the fox's genitals. Like peeling away the wrapping of a gift, Boris watched it utter awe as bands of goo slipped away from the curve of Blaine's member, the flaccid, furry dick flopping down towards his knees at a frightening fourteen inches long flaccid with balls the size of footballs to boot. He didn't notice where the goo went because Boris had already reached out and grabbed that furry tube, running his fingers up and down its length to make sure that it was real.

"Holy shit..."

"And that's us soft," chuckled Blaine. "Believe it or not, our subspecies have actually got the second smallest dicks amongst the Breakers."

"There are subspecies...?" Boris asked, his throat going dry. He suddenly felt very thirsty. The heat coursing through his veins from both his crotch and cheeks was spreading and again, it was quickly sapping him of strength. Something told him that to replenish his strength, he'd have to suck that dick.

"If yer bein' technical," said his brother with a dismissive wave. "P3 Symbionts come in different subspecies. Ya've got Jocks who are way bigger in terms of muscle mass than even me but dun have cocks or balls as big. Breakers generally ain't as big muscle-wise as Jocks but we've got cocks that are bigger. Then there are the Suits - or so we've heard - who could almost pass fer normal except that they're_really_ tall. Like eight feet tall minimum."

"Fuck..." Boris mumbled, swallowing in an attempt to wet his parched throat. That failed and he found his muzzle gravitating towards his brother's cock.

"Yeah and amongst each subspecies are more subspecies. Usually ya can tell 'em apart from th' underwear they wear, the shape their symbiont takes. Ya saw Ulric and Gustav, right? They got speedos. They generally look like supermodels but have the biggest cocks out of all o' us. Trent is the biggest in sheer mass but he ain't as ripped as us and his cock ain't as long as ours but is fuckin' thick. His symbiont, Trace, takes th' shape of board shorts. Then there's us..."

"Basically beach bodybuilder," he drooled, leaning so close that he could smell his brother's earthy musk. "Kind of an average between the speedos and dad builds?"

"Kinda."

Had he been focused on anything but the stiffening cock in his paws, he would have noticed that Blaine's eyes had been consumed with an inky blackness, leaving only the bright blue irises.

"So... you think I'll turn out like you?" Boris asked. A response was not necessary. He buried his muzzle into his brother's thick, blonde crotch fur, taking in the strong scent of masculinity and sex. There was a smell of other men on there and his own cock spasmed in excitement that he could not only taste his brother directly but indirectly all the other guys he had been with.

And I might get to taste those guys directly too...

"Maybe, maybe not," chuckled Blaine. "Prolly not though. When we were on yer stage, we were already packin' the muscle. Trent was already getting sum girth too. Might be turning into a speedo-guy too or somethin' else. It ain't an exact science. Like we said, yer symbiont makes ya the best physical version of yerself. It ain't jus' about messing with yer genetics ta make work out all the kinks in yer DNA. It's 'bout what you see as the ideal version of you."

Probably for the best. I don't want to be a muscle beast like Blaine.

I want to be fucked by a muscle beast.

That realisation, that moment of self-awareness and acknowledgement, was enough to break down the chains that had been holding Boris back. He finally opened his muzzle, grasping the long cock in his muzzle and letting his tongue roll out, tasting the furry sheath before him. A vibrant heat emanated from the fleshy tube, adding its waves of heat to the fires that were burning against his cheeks. The two fires joined, creating a raging inferno and with their combined power, they reached down his throat, surged past his abdomen and reached for his crotch. At the same time, the twin stars of his balls had reignited and the simultaneously unleashed a solar flare of arousal and fire up his cock and towards the finger of flame running down his spine. The two lances of flame inched towards one another. The intelligence part of Boris' brain likened it to The Creation of Adam, that iconic scene within the Sistine Chapel where God was just one the verge of granting life to Adam.

But just like in the painting, they weren't_quite_ touching and it frustrated him.

Thankfully, his brother provided the solution. Blaine's sheathe was receding, the white, furry tube sliding back to reveal the pointed cock head that had become swollen and engorged. Boris was instinctively drawn towards the tip. As the sheath pulled back, so too did he trace his tongue up the member. Within moments, his tongue left the warm touch of the sheath and instead pressed against the molten, slick flesh of his brother's cock. A loud moan rose from his throat, his glasses starting to fog up with his panting and huffing.

He didn't need to see, however.

He knew exactly where he was going by touch and taste alone.

His body quivered when a drop of precum dripped out from Blaine's swollen dick only to be caught by his tongue. The twin flares inches closer to one another, swirling just over his navel. Patience had always been one of Boris' virtues but this was not something he could wait for.

Blaine had other ideas, however. His brother grabbed the back of his head and gently pulled him away. Boris instinctively grasped for the monster cock, trying to angle it towards him and whimpering for it like a pup in need of his bottle.

"Boris," his brother said evenly, catching his attention. The gaze of those dark eyes shocked him back into some semblance of intellectual thought. "If ya do this, yer takin' the next step ta becomin' a Breaker. Ya sure ya want that? Ya sure ya want ta join the Department?"

Boris Fletcher struggled with the question... for about thirty seconds.

"Yes! God yes!"

Blaine smiled at him and swung his legs over so that the massive fox was resting on his back. Then, he grabbed the back of his knees, lifting his legs into the air and exposing his ass for his brother.

"Then if yer sure, ya'll fuck me. This is th' world ya'll be enterin'."

Again, Boris hesitated. Thirty seconds of doubt. Thirty seconds of questioning whether or not it was right to fuck his brother even though, genetically, they were no longer siblings. Thirty seconds of wondering what his future would be with the Department instead of under his dad's shadow.

For the last five seconds of that time, he had a flash of inspiration; almost like a dream even though his eyes were open. He was waking up next to a huge, muscular fox, his partner's features blurred with anonymity. Rings were wrapped around their fingers. He kissed his partner and husband awake. They were both hard and they fucked to wake up. Then he made breakfast and he got fucked when his husband pounced at him from behind. The pancakes were a little burnt so they decided to just grab something out as they went to work. They had to shower first. He fucked his husband as revenge for burning breakfast.

They went to work, dressed in suits with their symbionts hidden by their garments. Those suits didn't last long because as soon as they got to work, they fucked the security guard between them. Naturally, they worked in different branches of the Department but they'd see each other for lunch. He sat at his desk, caught the eye of the sexy tiger in desk over. They had a webinar to attend so they gave each other handjobs under the desk while they listened to some stats. He went down on the tiger after the meeting was over to clean up.

At lunch, he and his partner met up with Trent and Blaine over at a local cafe. They fucked before they ate, then they ate some food off one another's hunky bodies and fucked again. He had a meeting with his boss which led to some more sex, this time against the window and his cum smeared the entire wall with white. The window washer was confused but was invited inside to clean it up. Naturally, that ended in a threesome. If he was going to clean up the window anyway, might as well make a mess.

Before he went home for the day, he bent over the security guard and ploughed him hard for a job well done. He blew his partner on their drive home - 15 minutes was more than enough - and then they had dinner. This time, he was given some privacy to make sure the food was served well. They ate it in a pool while watching TV. Then they frotted and came in the water before going down to sleep. Halfway through the night, his partner stuffed him, giving him the most pleasurable dream ever.

Boris was brought back to reality and he looked down at his brother who was eagerly awaiting his response.

"Wow..." was all he could manage before he grabbed his brother's calves and drove his dick into the awaiting ass. All it destiny, fate or whatever else, but his cock gravitated towards that hole, drawn in by some ineffable force. Blaine's ass was just as hot as his cock and the moment their flesh touched, those two spires of flame finally collided with one another. A supernova of fire, energy and virility exploded from the contact.

Boris threw his head back, letting a primal roar; something he would never have dared enact when he was the suit-wearing yes-man that he had always been. There was a sense of relief, freedom and joy that erupted from every fibre of his being both metaphorically and physically. He willingly gave himself to the primal urges that had taken over his body, leaning into every thrust of his hips, breathing every molecule of masculine scent that wafted into his nostrils and even going so far as to lean towards his brother's foot and run his tongue up its left from sole to big toe.

Years of sexual repression and denial all came out in thunderous storm; a mix of a hurricane's primal strength with the suddenness of a volcanic eruption. He greedily devoured Blaine's big toe, suckling on it, eyes rolling into the back of his head as his lashed his tongue between the toes and slurped up against his brother' footpads. With another thrust, he turned towards his brother's other foot, burying his nose against it and taking in that scent. He rubbed his cheek against it, adoring the sensation of Blaine's toes curling against his muzzle before he drove both feet together and clamped his muzzle against both toes. The gesture compressed his brother's legs and ass around his dick, causing him to shudder in ecstasy. All that pleasure roiled down towards his cock. Nowhere near ready to cum just yet, his member surged forward, digging deeper into Blaine who moaned, unable to do anything against the savage beast atop him.

A ferocious growl left his throat. The time for an appetiser was done. It was time for the main course. Boris threw his brother's legs aside, his eyes levelled on his prize - that gargantuan rod of fox meat drooling precious precum all over Blaine's chiselled chest. He grabbed it with both paws, tilting it towards himself. Every thrust buried him deeper into his brother and brought a fresh little geyser from precum from the spire of meat. With a lick of his lips, he wrapped his muzzle around the cock and thrust.

One burst of precum was all it took. Another little eruption burst within his head, exploding and sending his eyes rolling wildly in pleasure. Muscles all over his body quaked. His throat jostled as he swallowed that first gulp and as it passed his neck, his traps swelled, rising up like two suspension bridges crossing the gap between his shoulders and his neck.

Another gulp and his shoulders broadened, pulling away from his neck a little while almost swelling up into two, visible mounds. One more mouthful and his collarbone pressed up against his flesh, protruding in tandem with his inflating chest. He swallowed again and his back broadened, the sweat-soaked collared shirt that he was still wearing groaned as his slim physique widened into a very visible V-shape. Bands of torn fabric tore across his back and shoulders but the shirt didn't quite tear just yet.

Boris' thirst for the precum intensified and he thrust harder and faster into his brother, his knot quickly inflating and proving a frustrating obstacle against the tight ass. The benefit was that with each movement, he was rewarded by another blast of precum. The correlation was quickly formed so he ploughed harder and harder, pumping more and more of that slick, salty liquid into himself.

Soft crackling could be heard across his spine as it lengthened. The hem of his shirt which had to be tucked into his pants rose, crawling up the hardened abdominals which were quickly forming and complimented by an Apollo's belt that led seductively towards the cock that was being buried over and over again into the fox beneath him. The thighs that were giving him the power for each thrust thickened, widening and ballooning along with his calves. Raw strength was added to his movements and with a triumphant roar, he shoved his knot right into his brother. Blaine arched his back, letting out a yowl of pleasure as the throbbing dick brushed up against his prostate.

But it wasn't yet time to cum.

Boris's pace only intensified even as the pressure in his balls started to mount to critical levels. Blaine's legs curled around his new, bigger neck, pulling him closer towards that throbbing cock. There was no doubt or hesitation anymore despite the monumental size of the cock in front of him. He still took as much of it as he could, getting down about halfway before he had to stop. With some effort, he would no doubt be able to suck himself off with ease.

More and more of Blaine's infectious precum poured down his throat but he was done with the foreplay. He wanted the real thing. With his muzzle firmly buried in the cock, he released it from his grip and reached for those two handlebars that here protruding from Blaine's chest.

His brother's dark eyes boggled.

"N - No! W - Wait!"

There was no stopping the beast. Boris grabbed them, hooking a finger through each and gave them a firm tug. Blaine's back arched, his face twisted into a grimace of pleasure, teeth gnashed and muzzle scrunched up. Hot precum rocketed up those huge football-sized balls to the point that Boris could actually see the mount of fluid as it made its way up the two-foot long pole before it came pouring down his throat.

Boris was not prepared.

The flood of cum was like trying to swallow the ocean. It came rushing at his muzzle at such speed that he was forced to gag and splutter. A lot of it came spilling out of his muzzle while some shot up his nostrils and came spurting out in a gush. He fought against it, though; a beast never backs down. The second blast he was prepared for and swallowed as much as he could.

Like fertiliser to a plant, the precum triggered a different kind of growth in him. His short-cropped blonde hair, always styled to look youthful, spiky and to distinguish himself from his father, lengthened. It gained a sort of sun-bleached appearance; perfect for the beach life; and tumbled past his jaws, even obscuring his view a little. A little bit of blonde stubble peppered his jaws and cheek, not enough to form a beard but would catch the light in just the right way. A similar growth appeared across his newly formed pectorals, only visible upon closer inspection. Thicker hairs appears across his forearms and legs, almost making it look like he had a golden aura around his limbs.

When the third shot of precum arrived, he could no longer hold on.

His balls jostled. Now the size of baseballs, they slapped against his dick and unleashed their payload almost in revenge against Blaine's bombardment. Hot semen poured out of his foot-long member, sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing into Boris. His entire body convulsed with his burst, his jaw going slack. Every drop of energy was spent pushing his cum out of his body causing his grip around his brother's nipples to slacked and the hard cock in his muzzle to drop aside. Thankfully, Blaine's legs around his frame kept him in position. His conscious mind shut down, swimming in a sea of pleasure while his subconscious continued to drink the rich, salty precum that poured down his throat.

He came once, twice, three times and all the way up to eight before his body could produce no more. All the strength left him and Boris Fletcher slumped forward. Blaine had to take command and roll them both to the side, still straddling his brother's hips while Boris' cock continued to pulsate within the bigger fox. Boris' eyes fluttered shut, drifting off into slumber.

Blaine smiled at his brother and gently brushed aside the long, blonde fringed away from the firm, chiselled features. He smiled when he saw the starting of a very handsome cleft chin; something he didn't possess. More and more, they were pulling away from being genetically brothers but, in some way, they were closer than ever.

It was an hour later when Boris' knot finally deflated and Blaine was able to wiggle himself off his brother's cock. The movements stirred the elder brother from his sleep though, still drowsy from the mind blowing sex, all Boris could do was seize his retreating brother's arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" Boris growled playfully.

Blaine smiled down at him and leaned down, kissing his brother's forehead lightly. "Get some sleep, bro. Part of th' process is ta wait until the next day. Get some time away from the mind-blowing sex to make sure ya know whatcha want. We'll be back tomorrow."

With that, Boris released his brother and Blaine happily wrapped Boris in a fresh blanket.

Through the night, Boris dreamed; dreamed of a fantastical reality where he had never grown up with all the expectations his father had forced upon him and was free to grow up however he wanted. It was intoxicating, it was perfect and it was exactly what he wanted.

The dream, however, was interrupted by the blaring light of the morning sun and a loud ringing.

Groaning, he swiped at the alarm clock... only to remember that this was a day and age when alarm clocks were integrated into phones. The loud clattering on the ground made him groan as it only woke him up further. Rousing from his slumber, he peered down at the phone that was loudly declaring Lucian was calling him.

Boris swiped it off the ground and angrily hit the 'accept' button.

"What?" he spat.

"Boris! Thank god!" Lucian exclaimed. "Where have you been? I've been trying to call you all day!"

"Take it easy, Lucian," he mumbled, shielding his eyes from the sun. It took him a second to piece together what had happened the previous night. He was sure he came up to the room without pants so Blaine or someone else must have deposited his phone on the bedside table sometime during the night. "I've been at the beach house with Blaine."

"Are you on your way back? Did you convince Blaine to drop this whole 'gay thing'?"

The way Lucian phrased it greatly irritated him. "It's not a 'thing', Lucian. It's who Blaine is. In fact, it's who I am."

"What? What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I'm gay. I always have been. Hell, you know what? I've spent my life trying to be like dad and the fact that I ended up gay probably means that dad is gay too."

Lucian groaned loudly. "Look... Your dad found out about Blaine. He found out about you going after him. He's usually apathetic but something about Blaine declaring himself gay just... I don't know. It set him off."

Probably because, somewhere, deep down, he's realised that we're getting to live the life he's never gotten to live.

"So?" Boris asked hotly. He got up from his bed, the smell of sweat, sex and semen still in the air. In fact, when he looked down at the sheets, he could tell that he had some rather voluminous emissions the previous night. He turned towards the full-body mirror standing a short distance away and grinned at himself. He liked the lean, fit fox with the wavy blonde hair and stubble staring back at him. Such a difference from the uptight, cookie-cutter suit that he had been just a night ago. He didn't even need his glasses anymore. He could see himself perfectly in the mirror and loved the look.

"So?" Lucian repeated incredulously. "Boris, he's pissed_! He 's genuinely threatened to cut you_ both _off. I've never seen him like this before!"_

"That's because he's never faced anything like this before," he answered calmly. Now that his mental faculties were returning, he was starting to regain his with and the edge to his voice. "Or maybe he has except he's always been far too scared to face it head on and has either thrown money at it to make it go away or force himself to work so that he wouldn't have to think about it."

"Boris..."

Sighing softly and wiping away the sleep from his eyes, he said in a calm, even manner,"Look Lucian, Blaine helped me realise that I'm a gay man and that I've been living my life scared of what might happen if I were ever to earn dad's disapproval or get kicked out of the family. He also helped me realise that this world is full of opportunities and dad's way isn't the only way to go. I am strong, independent and have a great network of friends and family who will support me when I fall. Unlike dad who has always been emotionally distance and will just throw money at anything in the hopes it'll go away. I hope you'll understand."

There was a pause on the other end.

"Looks, let's talk about this first, okay? You, me and Blaine. I can be on the next flight down and we can sort this out."

He glanced out the balcony window. The backyard had been cleaned up of all the mess from the previous night. Only Blaine remained currently soaking in the pool.

"You better hurry over then," Boris said with a knowing smirk. "Spring Break is just around the corner."

With that, he hung up and, still wearing his torn and ragged shirt from the previous night, every button undone, he headed back down the stairs to the backyard. Every step was with purpose, a renewed sense of identity and the conviction of someone who had just gotten a new lease on life and eager to get started. The swagger he possessed was natural, elegant and was akin to the slow-motion strides of a good beach movie to highlight the hunk that got everyone's loins stirring. He personally couldn't wait to grow out his hair a little longer.

He emerged from the house, waving the phone in his paws absently. "You'll never guess who that was."

Blaine regarded him curiously, one ear bent. "Dad?"

"Lucian. Apparently, dad found out about you coming out as gay and is pissed. Lucian is probably going to come here and try to convince us to go back with him." He grinned hungrily. "Think we can turn him"

His brother lifted a paw at him, pulling his fantasies of fucking his surrogate father to a halt. "Hey bro, we don't turn people. We ask 'em if they want to join, give 'em a taste and dun force anythin' upon them."

With a shrug, he padded over to the pool. Just looking at his brother's massive frame started that raging inferno that was building in his body. A good thing too since his morning wood was still very much unattended. "Yeah well, Lucian has been working for dad for years. Not to sound mean, but he's been dad's personal assistant for twenty years. He desperately needs a change in his otherwise dead end job."

"We can offer it to him, bro. We ain't forcin'."

"I know, I know. Won't stop me from being really convincing though." Boris made a show of trying to pull his collar shut, an impossible feat because of his wide shoulders and much thicker neck. "All those days spent in the boardroom trying to get people to buy in to my projects won't go to waste." He eyed his brother, particularly that thong that hid the prize and key to his ascension. "Speaking of which... Aren't you going to ask me if I want to join the Department?"

Blaine laughed and swam towards the edge of the pool. His brother lifted himself out of the pool with frightening ease, the soaked fur highlighting every muscle in his sculpted body. There was a hypnotic effect to watching one droplet of chlorinated water run down from Blaine's broad, mountainous shoulders, down his collarbone, over his massive pectorals, just avoid those huge, plump, pierced nipples and disappear into the valleys of his abdominal muscles. Boris was completely caught off-guard when his brother's arms wrapped around him as he was completely mesmerised by the body before him. Their muzzles met and this time, there was no hesitation. He dove straight for the kiss, happily trying to bury his erect member into those abs.

The beefier fox broke the kiss only to ask a single question. "Do I hafta?"

Then they were kissing again. Boris reached up to the back of his brother's head, fingers raking through the blonde hair there and gently tugging at it to break the kiss again. "Ask it," he growled playfully.

"Do you..." The question was interrupted by another passionate kiss, this one lasting a full ten seconds. Without missing his queue, Blaine broke the kiss and said continued. "... want to join..." Another kiss and this time, Boris pushed his tongue deeper than ever, intertwining his muzzle with Blaine's and eliciting a deep moan. Blaine barely had enough strength to break the kiss before finishing his question. "... the Department...?"

Grinning, Boris leaned towards his brother's left ear, the one with the diamond stud earring. He nibbled on it lightly, tugging at the earring and making his brother whimper and squirm. "Yes," he half-whispered, half-growled.

"Fuck it," grunted Blaine. "We've been waitin' for this since last night!"

Suddenly, Blaine's huge paws grabbed his waist. Those huge muscles were put to good use as Boris was lifted a good foot off the air and the world suddenly turned upside down. It took a second for Boris to realise that his fantasy was coming true. Now upside down and supported by Blaine's huge arms alone, his muzzle was pushed right up against Beef. He felt the thong twist and liquefy, the symbiont grazing his muzzle lightly as of to give it's own gentle welcome to the broader family that was the Department. It slipped away, sliding between Blaine's ass cheeks and merging with his brother while that monster of a cock was left to quickly rise. Boris hungrily gobbled the beast into his muzzle, adoring the sensation of the throbbing member emerging from that fluffy, white sheath and driving deeper and deeper into his muzzle. The first shot of precum ignited the fire within him, starting his own fountain of precum oozing from his dick.

Then Blaine's breath brushed against his member and the second part of his fantasy quickly came true. The sensation of his member being enclosed in his brother's muzzle complete with that dexterous tongue. He almost blew his load there and then but he held back, wanting to prolong this experience for as long as possible. The warm, salty spray of precum pouring into his mouth made that difficult but he somehow held on. He had to close his eyes, focus all his senses on his sense of taste and touch.

As that cock drove deeper and deeper into him and as Blaine ravished his member, the fire within intensified. It roiled like a fiery tempest that ebbed and flowed, an ocean ablaze and roiling with the tides. This followed the pace of his to-and-fro with Blaine. His brother, who was totally in control, lifted him up and consequently pulling back from his fully-erect member. This had the same effect for him as his lips were dragged along the length of Blaine's own still-hardening cock. Then, Blaine's lips would hilt down to his dick and subsequently, he would deep-throat the member, a fresh shot of precum spiralling into his throat and into his stomach. The twin sensations had his toes curling and it was all he could do to wrap his arms around his brother's massive thighs, holding onto them for dear life.

The cock he sucked grew bigger and bigger, driving further and further into him with every repetition. His balls jostled, brought closer and closer to the edge with each thrust, aided by gravity. He could barely hold on even as his head swam due to his upside down positioning. Pressed up against his brother's huge, muscled body, gripping the raw masculinity that the fox gave, every fantasy of his was fulfilled...

... and he wanted more.

He wanted more sessions like this. He wanted more men to have such sessions with. He wanted to learn about different positions, taste other men, fuck in different places and feed the starved beast that had gone so long without a single scrap of relief.

This was what he wanted.

And what he wanted was to cum.

He felt his knot inflate, felt Blaine wrap his muzzle around it and gave it the slightest nibble.

That was enough for him.

His claws dug into his brother's thigh thighs, barely making a dent in the iron-like hamstrings. His balls tightened and his cock spasmed. The fire within him rushed towards his cock, draining everything from his entire body and causing every muscle, every limb and every bone to seize up. Just like the previous night, his whole body seemed committed to the orgasm but this time, he had a new resolution.

It's just the first fuck of the morning! No way am I going to pass out where there's so much more ass to have!

Using his brother's strength as motivation and inspiration, he remained fully conscious even as every cell in his body seemed to throw his cum and his symbiont out of his balls, through his dick and right into Blaine's waiting muzzle. Blaine took every drop, never letting a single one fall to the ground as his prize shot through his body to be greeted by his own symbiont. Beef and the thus-far unnamed symbiont entangled with one another, dancing a tango of joy and affection before being sent down to Blaine's massive balls and propelled up the enormous cock that Boris had someone managed to take most of.

The rush of hot seed blasted into the elder brother, somehow reigniting the fire within him. It was like getting shot by adrenaline and testosterone at the same time. The weariness of afterglow seemed to immediately fade away, burned to ashes by the intensity of a supernova. There was so much energy that his current body couldn't take it. The shirt that was just barely hanging over his shoulders even upside down suddenly let out a rrrrrip in protest. The already weakened seams tore across his back, mountainous muscles emerging from the fabric as the garment was split completely in half. It couldn't fully fall off his frame, however, as his ballooning shoulders and forearms quickly caught them. His arms likewise lengthened to keep him in proportion, the sleeves riding halfway up his forearms and getting stuck there no matter how much they protested. Along with the new size came a degree of flexibility and more of the mammoth of meat that he was swallowing to side further down his throat. He found his muzzle buried against his brother's crotch, stretching himself to the limit. Something told him this would be the new norm and that stirred his excitement.

That blazing inferno was suddenly drained down towards his crotch again. Before he could even register the fact that he was having another full-body orgasm, his balls were jostling and blasting his cum and his symbiont right back into Blaine's muzzle. Boris convulsed, his eyes rolled into the back of his head with every fibre of his being becoming embroiled in a sea of pleasure. Again, Beef and Boris' symbiont met, again they danced and again information was exchanged. As before, there was another blast of cum from Blaine's dick and Boris was shocked away by the need to swallow. Not a single drop fell onto the ground even though it meant that his body would once again be ravaged by a fire as intense as an exploding star.

Boris mentally screamed in pleasure, unable to vocally do so as he was dedicated to drinking every last drop his brother gave him. The explosion of heat, arousal and mass surged throughout his chest, pushing his pectorals out to fit his new, broadened back. His abdominals seized up, muscles appearing like six, broad cushions that led the eye towards his cock. Flames of passion coursed through his femoral artery and spread out from there like wildfire. His thighs thickened, forcing Blaine to adjust his grip as the ballooned out with a few thick, bluish-green veins gracing the inside of his thighs. Toes curled and uncurled in pleasure, each repetition causing them to stretch out further and further, his foot broadening in response while his calves grew to support them. Each pair of calf muscles grew so plump and thick that they almost looked like two hearts pressed against his shins.

Then came his third and final full-body orgasm. Even though there was a steady stream of cum pumping out of his balls, this one was certainly the biggest and Boris held on for what he knew would be the explosive finale. He could feel all the heat in his body pool towards his testicles. With his physique so much bigger, there was much for energy to contain and his lemon-sized balls couldn't hold it all. It almost felt like they were going to burst until they started to inflate, stretching his white, furry sac. The right one bulged out, growing to the size of a dish plate and pressing up against Blaine's muzzle like a big, spherical pillow filled with cum. The second quickly followed, eclipsing the morning sun and hugging Blaine completely in their mass.

But it wasn't enough.

There was just a little bit of energy left and that one last drop, that last burst, was enough to push his balls to their limits and force the dam to break. His hot seed blasted out of his dick with such force and power that it stretched the spongy organ, to burst forward, driving deeper into Blaine' muzzle. It easily filled the broader fox's gullet, fitting perfectly like it was always meant to be there. In the same way, Boris found his own lips locking into place with Blaine's dick, taking knot and all. The two foxes fitting together, Boris' body spasmed and he unleashed his symbiont in its final trip outside of his body before he would be bonded with it forever.

There was one last exchange, one last dance and then one last ejaculation and Boris swallowed his symbiont, feeling it twist and writhe within him. Yet... he didn't feel complete, not yet. He suckled on the last bits of cum, that exhaustion threatening to overwhelm him. Blaine seemed to sense this and slowly pulled themselves apart, making sure that their lips were still wrapped around one another's dicks up until the moment they fulled parted.

Gently, Blaine flipped his brother back around. There was a moment of vertigo as Boris found his feet once again on the ground. This was accompanied by the surrealism that he now had a cock that was long enough that it was resting right between his pectorals. He wondered how _anyone_could swallow that whole but then he remembered that Blaine was now very much not a normal fox.

"I'm... not done?" he asked, regarded his brother in confusion.

Blaine placed a paw on his new, meaty shoulder; the appendage no longer consuming the scalloped muscle entirely. "We told ya we'd ask ya ta join four times. We've asked three. Now, with yer head clear n' everythin', we're gonna ask one last time."

Boris looked down at his cock. He could _feel_his symbiont churning in his gargantuan balls, waiting for his response. He could still turn back. He felt what it was like to be gay. Yes, he enjoyed it but this was all just one, long dream. It might be time to wake up and return to reality.

No... this is my reality now.

This is our reality.

"Do ya wanna join the Department?" Blaine asked.

He beamed at his brother.

"Of course we do."

He leaned down, wrapping his lips around the tip of his cock like he was kissing his own symbiont. Naturally, his partner leapt up to kiss him in return...

... and become one with him.

*****

Spring Break was in full swing. Getting down to Sohomo, Florida had been a trial for most of the trip. The roads going out of Orlando were packed with college students eager for their reprieve but as soon as he was out of the gridlock, Lucian Garrows, had a mostly straight shot all the way to the distant, relatively unknown seaside town. The 45-year-old dragon with green and yellow scales was not used to driving more than an hour to get anywhere. After he had left Sohomo all those years ago, he had left behind a life of road trips, lazy beach days and partying. He had to grow up.

He never thought he'd go back to that town after his parents had moved to some retirement village somewhere else in the state. But here was, driving to retrieve his employer's sons both of whom had decided that they were now gay and would be moving to Sohomo permanently. Clearly neither of them were thinking this through. 'Spring Break Fever' as they say; that delusion and drive to ensure Spring Break never ended. Both Blaine and Boris were caught up in the appeal of Spring Break - and Sohomo for whatever reason - and they were doing whatever they could to keep it going.

Unfortunately, Lucian above anyone else knew what a trap that was. Sohomo put on a show for Spring Break but after that, it was totally dead and boring. It was one of the reasons he had left the town and made himself into the personal assistant of a multimillionaire. Yes, it wasn't exactly the most exciting but it was still something better than what he could have gotten in Sohomo.

"Come on, guys," he groaned to himself, running a large, clawed hand over his broad, square muzzle. His back ached from being in the car for too long and that, in turn, caused a bit of discomfort in his wings. Folded behind his back, the small and somewhat atrophied because of years living in the cramped confines of New York City and never really paying attention to all that advice doctors gave dragons to keep exercising their wings. Being in his mid forties didn't help either. The bright red, fiery mane he possessed was cut short and just fell back about a little past his ears. Normally, it'd grow all the way down his back and just ending right above his tail but he had to keep himself professional and a long mane was often considered somewhat unkempt in the professional workplace; kind of like how there was this unspoken rule that guys had to been clean shaven in the professional workplace or at least keep their beards well maintained.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he finally saw the town in the distance. There was the same gas station that seemed unchanged after nearly twenty years, the same church steeple and the same old eastern boardwalk where most of the shops were.

But then there was the western boardwalk.

He had heard that over a decade ago, a hurricane had torn apart the western district which had been filled with rotting warehouses. Sohomo never fixed it up. Though he had never seen the devastation, he had assumed it would've looked like a sort of haunted pier. Instead, what he was greeted by was a huge, glistening, ritzy white boardwalk filled with modern and artisanal shops and products. The church steeple had once been the tallest building in all of Sohomo but it was now dwarfed by a multi-storey shopping mall.

"What the...?" he gasped.

One thing about these changes was that there was ample parking. The problem about it being Spring Break is that most of that parking was occupied. Thankfully, he found a spot a little far from the mall. As he stepped out of his rented car, mesmerised by the changes, his phone rang.

It was Calvin Fletcher, his employer.

Calvin didn't even bother waiting for a second ring. He hung up a second later knowing full well that anyone who saw that he had called would be compelled to call him back. Naturally, Calvin understood that he wouldn't get a call back immediately. As long as the receiver knew, that would be enough.

Lucian glanced from his phone to the mall.

Boris and Blaine can wait. I've got to check this out myself.

The dragon dressed in a somewhat sweaty and uncomfortable navy blue suit headed towards the boardwalk, utterly amazed at the transformation. It didn't slip past his attention that everyone around him was a very attractive guy wearing little more than their undergarments. He grimaced when he saw a bodybuilder striding past him wearing nothing but a thong.

Damn... is Sohomo finally embracing the 'homo' in it's name.

It wouldn't surprise him as a gimmick to attract more people and thus revenue. Judging by the crowds, it was working. The mall itself was already filled and as he took a step back to take it all in, he could not help but gawk. All his attention was on the massive, modern structure. So much so that he wasn't paying attention to the floor beneath him as he kept walking backwards to take in the structure that went against everything he remembered of his hometown.

He reached the end of the pier and took another step back.

The world suddenly tilted backwards and a few guys turned in time to shout at him. But it was too late. He was falling backwards and -

SPLASH!

... into the water.

His heart immediately began racing. Winged dragons were not meant for swimming. Back in high school that some bullies would push him into the pool and laugh as he _literally_drowned before the teachers rescued him.

Oh shit... This is the end!

I'm going to drown in my own hometown! This is fucking karma for leaving!

Then, strong arms wrapped around his chest and pulled him back towards the surface. He gasped a sweet lungful of air.

"Push your wings against your back!" came a shout from an oddly familiar and yet different voice. "Stop kicking and paddling. Leave it all to me!"

His eyes stinging from the salty water and drawing on those experiences from high school, he let himself float along as his rescuer brought him to the shore. Lucian scrambled up the sand, coughing and spluttering while a crowd had gathered to applaud him. He lifted his head to regard his rescuer... and gawked.

"B - B - Boris?"

The fox beamed at him. "Lucian! Hey! Welcome back!"

He gazed at his employer's son from head to toe. This couldn't be Boris Fletcher. This hunk was tall - at least seven feet tall - trim without being malnourished and muscular without being one of those bodybuilders. Every muscle was functional and brought to mind... a lifeguard. Boris was also wearing a sleeveless swimsuit that cut off at his muscular thighs and left nothing to the imagination in terms of his enormous package. The name 'Beast' was written in bold letters across his chest. The boy's face was framed by long, golden, sun-bleached locks that tumbled down just at his shoulders. There was even a rather handsome cleft chin that accentuated his ruggedness and made him look like he had stepped right out of a romance novel.

"You... You can't be Boris Fletcher...?"

The fox beamed at him and offered his paw to the confused dragon. "Of course we are. We've joined the Department!"