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Griff sailed to the ground, great wings flapping once as he swung onto his feet smoothly as a bird might. Brooklyn joined the beaked gargoyle a moment later, folding his wings around his chest like a cloak against the winter cold. "Excellent job keeping up, chap. Knew it wouldn't be a problem for Goliath's second."

Brooklyn glanced out on the London cityscape. They perched on top of an old apartment building built almost a century before. A recent snow covered everything but the ploughed roads in a white sheet. They ventured far to get here, crossing the city as Griff showed him the clan's normal patrol routes. The red-skinned gargoyle had been sent here to see how a different clan leader ran things. He would be here through the holiday, and the Christmas lights dotting several different buildings had him a bit nostalgic for New York. He'd miss the tree lighting ceremony, watching the ball drop. Little things they participated in on the rooftops of buildings, but he still felt a part of it.

London was strange by comparison. It lacked the towering skyscrapers that gave Brooklyn a thrilling sense of flight, the character and personality of the different boroughs, and, of course, his clan.

Griff, at least, was a charming and amicable sort. Brooklyn cleared his throat and said, "Thank you for showing me around."

"You'll know the streets in no time," Griff said with a friendly clap on the back. "We should return home--rather peckish at this hour."

"Wouldn't mind that. I need to go to the bathroom."

"Why, take a look about. Not to be crass friend, but there's no reason to be a prude about it."

"Excuse me?"

Griff gestured to the roof. "Feel free to color the snow anywhere you like."

"Uh, I'd rather not."

Griff cocked his head. "Why not? Have trouble when you have an audience?"

"I..." Brooklyn did not. It wasn't something any gargoyle was a stranger with. When you were on the other side of the city and far from home, you could not exactly walk into the nearest bodega or bar.

The roof had no cooling units or places to hide from Griff. It was true they were alone, but...

"Tell you what," Griff spun around and said to the city, "you go off and do your business. Really there's no need to be bashful, but if privacy is what you need, you will have it."

Brooklyn stared at the leader of the London clan. Like Brooklyn, he wore a belted loincloth, but also sported a biker's black leather vest. It had a patch on with the logo of a World War II air wing, vest straining across his broad back. His tail, a muddy green like the rest of him, was curled just above the snow. He wasn't quite Goliath big, but he was muscular and dashing, with a crop of blond hair that grew in like a mohawk. It blew in a sudden wind, and Brooklyn pulled a few loose strands of his white hair out of his eyes. "Alright, give me a second."

He would rather hold it, even if he'd be aching by the time they got back, but Brooklyn did not want Griff to think him any weirder already. Gargoyles typically lacked any sort of modesty around each other, but this one thing...

Brooklyn squatted in the snow a dozen paces away, loincloth to his knees and butt pushed out. By habit, he raised his tail to keep stray flecks of pee from hitting it. Brooklyn did not have the anatomy of his brothers: between his thighs nestled a soft, feminine sex with a patch of white pubes that matched the rest of his hair. The pair of pouting lips twitched in the cold before, with a sigh, Brooklyn began to release the tension in his bladder.

He glanced up at the night sky, closing his eyes and willing his body to finish quickly as possible.

"See mate! No troub--uh..."

Brooklyn's stream stopped. His whole body coiled with tension, as if to react to Griff would signal that the other gargoyle had really seen him. It made him nauseous. One thing for the guys in the clan to know about this, but the leader of another clan?

Griff reacted before Brooklyn did, clearing his throat and turning back to the city. "Well, didn't mean to scare you, chap. Finish up, won't you?"

Brooklyn couldn't. He got most of it out, and would be fine until they returned to the shop the London clan ran. He quickly buckled his loincloth back into place and faced Griff. The other gargoyle stood at attention, facing away and hands behind his back. Clearly, Brooklyn was not the only one embarrassed by this whole affair.

Realizing it would depend on him to reconcile this, he cleared his throat. "It's fine, really. I should have just told you."

"And I, uh, should have respected your privacy. I thought I'd just turn and show you there was nothing to be awkward about. Then your tail was raised and..."

Brooklyn cringed. "You saw everything."

Griff nodded.

"Well," Brooklyn forced a wry chuckle, "at least nothing else awkward can happen between us."

"I, erm, yes, quite."

Brooklyn took a few steps to Griff, wings unfurling. "Ready to go?"

"Give me a moment, will you? I still need to gather my senses."

Brooklyn had gotten close enough to notice Griff's loincloth looked unusually tight. "Oh."

The green gargoyle glanced over his shoulder. "Pardon?"

"I suppose there is one more awkward thing that can happen. Ain't there, Griff?"

His companion, slowly, turned slightly, wing coming down to hide a rather obvious erection. "I'm sorry, Brooklyn. I did not mean anything by it--it's just my own clanmates are so much older than me now, and this is the first time I've seen such a sight since--"

"Can I see it?"

Griff, normally full of bravado, started. "I-I'm sorry, what?"

Brooklyn smirked and stepped close. His friend's breath picked up. Brooklyn's preferences swung both ways, and he had to admit Griff was certainly an attractive gargoyle. He expected some sort of reaction of barely hid disgust, but arousal on the part of the other gargoyle? How could Brooklyn not take advantage? Especially when prospects in New York had only gotten slimmer with both Lexington and Broadway finding partners of their own.

"You saw mine. Only fair I see yours as well." Brooklyn nudged the wing aside and could tell, by the outline in the loincloth, that Griff was a good size. The bigger, beaked gargoyle seemed incapable of action as Brooklyn knelt down in the snow, face level with that bulge. Griff sucked in a breath when red fingers undid his belt. The loincloth fell and before Brooklyn was a large cock, green fleshed like the rest of Griff. Foreskin wrapped around most of the erect, bulbous head, which was a deep yellow almost matching his beak. His balls were pulled a little tight from the cold, left side of the scrotum sagging deeper, each nut the size of an egg. Brooklyn's nostrils flared as the meaty, musky scent of male arousal filled his nose. He licked his lips and grabbed the shaft at its base. "You know, Griff, best if we take care of this here rather than wait till we get back home."

Griff gasped as his naughty red companion nuzzled into his sack. Tongue licked his scrotum, sliding between the heavy nuts, soaking up the salt and masculine flavor before reaching the base of Griff's cock. Brooklyn practically purred as he rubbed his beaked muzzle against it, the weighty flesh peeling back and precum leaking from the tip. His dark eyes met Griff's as his beak came to the tip of the shaft. Brooklyn closed his maw around it, and both males moaned. Brooklyn reached beneath his loincloth, cunt leaking, and began to rub his inflamed lips while he nourished the bigger male's pent up tool.

The contrast between crisp winter air and hot, wet maw could not be overstated. For Griff, it heightened the pleasure of Brooklyn's sudden blowjob. He had liked Brooklyn from the start, but gods he never expect things to move this quickly. Still, he could not dream of protesting. His hand rested in that mane of silver hair, almost digging claws into his partner's scalp. He pumped his hips, and Brooklyn gagged when cock knocked the back of his throat. However, Griff did not let up, for Brooklyn moaned deeply again, fingering himself inside his loincloth now.

His snatch burned with need, pussy hot and stoked just by getting used by the virile male standing over him. Brooklyn had a guilty pleasure for servicing bigger, stronger gargoyles, and Griff was no exception. He swallowed around the male's meaty tool, sure to suck as his beaked muzzle bounced off his partner's waist. His pussy leaked nectar into his loincloth, three fingers now burrowed inside himself, probing, rubbing, raking his tender spots to give him more pleasure in this sudden, desperate rendezvous. Brooklyn would have been content with letting Griff breed his maw full of seed, but the bigger gargoyle threw him off suddenly.

A snarl, both males now in the snow. Griff pinned Brooklyn on his back who, first baring teeth, then laughed when he felt hands tear at his loincloth.

"You want me, clan leader?"

"I'm going to fuck you," Griff growled. "I'm going to make you my personal toy."

"Mmm, promises promises," Brooklyn teased just to get Griff worked up further. The other male gave up on the belt and shredded the loincloth with his claws.

"Yes," Griff said, cock tip now rubbing blindly against Brooklyn's mound. The bigger male rolled his hips, but his dick humped harmlessly across red hips and flat abdomen.

"Come on stud, show me," Brooklyn said, reaching down and squeezing the spit-wet shaft. He lined it up, eyes locked with Griff's. "Show me," he urged.

Griff did. Brooklyn moaned when that fat prick split his pussy open. His walls felt thick veins along it, that bulbous head slamming to his cervix. Griff snarled, claws digging furrows through the snow into the roof as he began to rut Brooklyn, who hooked his ankles over the tail of his practically feral partner. Griff snarled, biting down on Brooklyn's shoulder hard enough to draw blood while his balls slapped his partner's muscular, red ass. The sound of their sex could be heard on the streets below, Brooklyn moaning loud and rakishly for his clan leader. His claws dug into the other male's back as Griff gave him a proper breeding.

Cock pounded in and out his sopping cunt, stirring up heat and longing. Nectar spilled around the shaft each time it pulled back from those rosy red lips. Brooklyn's abused sexy was now puffy and swollen from use, clit smashed against Griff's crotch on every full thrust. And as Griff continued, his rhythm became less feral, and he released Brooklyn's shoulder.

He huffed into his partner's ear, hips still churning, but slowing to a torturous pace. Griff, gasping, asked, "Is... Is it safe to cum inside you?"

"N-no, f-fuck."

"The-then let go of me," Griff said, meaning the leg-lock Brooklyn had on him.

"I don't care," Brooklyn urged, feeling hot as he said it. His breeding kink told him he needed to feel fertile seed pooling in his belly.

"B-Brooklyn, I ah, won't last..."

"Fucking cum in me, stud," Brooklyn purred, hugging Griff tight. "You want me to be yours? Then, hah, claim me."

"Fuck, Brooklyn, I..."

"That's it," Brooklyn whined, the tension and pleasure reaching a boiling point for both. The agonizing pace of that cock stirring in and out his cunny had him hotter than he'd been in a long time. "Cum for me clan leader."

"Brooklyn!" Griff groaned and hilted inside his partner. Brooklyn moaned weakly, release washing through his body in a pleasurable haze while thick, virile gargoyle cum spilled inside him. His practically felt his cervix throbbing as cock flexed and jerked against it, warming seed filling his vent till, with each clench of those balls and quiver of his inflamed lips, pearly white strands leaked out of his snatch.

"Fuck..." Griff breathed, still cumming, "Fuck Brooklyn, I..."

"Mmm, don't worry about it, stud," Brooklyn said; the balm of afterglow made each new pump of seed another shudder of pleasure through him. He added, "Still have enough time to make it home and fuck again before the sun comes up."

"Mmm, would that it never come up."

"Hehe, there will be many nights to come."

Griff stroked Brooklyn's hair before nuzzling his cheek, whispering, "There most certainly will be, if I have anything to say about it.