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Nick opened the door to his apartment and walked in with a heavy, tired sigh.

Another long day of work; a botched date with the girl of his dreams; another disappointing moment in his life. He kicked the door closed, which slammed a bit harder than was necessary, hung the keys on the wall-mounted key-holder, and proceeded to flop down face-first onto the couch, falling asleep as soon as he made contact with the cushions. The springs within the couch squeaked and cried out in protest from the sudden addition of weight, but it was in need of replacement anyway. The leather cushions were tattered and peeling, one of the latches to activate the leg rest was broken, and - as proven when Nick fell on the couch - the springs were starting to wear and show their age. The apartment itself wasn't any better, however. Peeling walls, stained carpet, and less-than-adequate kitchen space and plumbing; all of this he had to share with his newest roommate: his mom, Alison Wilde.

The middle-aged vixen was recently evicted from her home, the house that Nick was raised in, by a greedy bigot of a boar and had to find someplace else to live in for the time being. Until she found another house, of course. Thankfully, and like any good family member, Nick offered her his apartment to crash at until they could find the time to 'house hunt' for her. And while she appreciated the gesture, the longing feeling for Nick inside her prompted her to want to search for a place for the both of them to live in. Especially after she saw the state that Nick's apartment was in.

Said vixen emerged from the bathroom, her fur damp and steaming after a long, well-deserved hot shower, a towel wrapped around her rather scandalous body. She was in her forties, but had the figure of a twenty-something-year-old. To complement her curvaceous form and voluptuous hips that came with her age and very early motherhood, a pair of large, plump breasts hung from her chest, sagging a bit from age, but mostly from the sheer weight of them, and just enough to be appealing to a male's eyes. In Alison's current state - which was in a towel, as was mentioned earlier - the piece of cloth did little to keep the weighty jugs from spilling over at the top and showing just the very edge of her nipples, or cover the rest of her body.

When she lived alone, before and after Nick returned home with the news of his life being straightened out, Alison didn't have to worry about others invading the privacy of her home, as long as the windows were covered and were - along with the doors and other points of entry - locked. Here, however, in the hopefully-temporary home of her son, she had to be extra cautious with what she did and didn't wear whenever he was in the apartment in order to preserve her decency around her. But to her, 'decency' meant wearing, at the bare minimum, a tank top or bra and a pair of boxer shorts. In her eyes, Nick didn't seem to mind all that much.

In actuality, Nick was extremely bothered by his mother's sense of 'decency', or rather, her lack thereof. Everything she wore in the apartment whenever he was present was always revealing in some way. Despite this, however, Nick never complained. He couldn't find the heart to tell her that her choice of 'home clothing' was very inappropriate. Besides, why would he complain? Alison was certainly an attractive woman, with all the right curves and proportions. Nick sometimes found himself wondering how she was still single all this time, before pushing such thoughts away.

Alison stared at the tod dozing on the old couch, wearing his tropical-patterned shirt, red-blue tie, and brown khaki pants - not exactly the idea dating attire - and his face turned towards her. The vixen sighed and shook her head. 'He must be so tired', she thought to herself. Then she spun on her heel and went into the single bedroom, which she and Nick had to share, and got dressed in her 'minimalist' attire. A few minutes later, she emerged wearing a white tank top and a pair of blue plaid boxer shorts, her fur disheveled from a vigorous towel drying, but now no longer damp.

Nick was still fast asleep on the couch, but had changed his position so that he was on his back and had one leg draped over the edge of the couch and the other on the top of the backrest; he was practically manspreading. Without meaning to, of course.

Alison shook her head with a soft chuckle as she made her way towards him. She moved his legs back on the couch so that they were straight and not at an odd angle, then proceeded to lay on top of him. She came up to just underneath his chin, her large breasts squishing against his clothed chest, and her right leg draped over his left side. However, it did not go unnoticed like she thought.

The added weight from the vixen lying on top of Nick stirred him from his slumber and woke him up. But he did not move to push her off or reprimand her. Instead, he simply smacked his lips, wrapped both arms around her middle, and mumbled out a sleepy, "Hey mom."

Alison promptly smiled and nuzzled his neck and underneath his chin. "Hey yourself," she purred happily. "How was your date tonight?"

He let out a heavy sigh and a profound "Hmm." Alison frowned as her motherly instincts kicked in, telling her that something was very wrong. She sat up and gave him a concerned look.

"What happened? Was the food bad, or the service terrible?" she asked.

Nick, whose eyes were now open and looking up at Alison as she loomed over him, shook his head. "No," he said, before letting out another sigh and averting his gaze to the black twenty-five-inch television screen. "I, I mean, Judy, called it off as soon as I arrived at the restaurant and waited for her to show up."

Alison's eyes widened and she put a paw to her mouth. "What? Why?"

Nick scoffed, forcing a smile before letting it falter into a saddened frown. "Ask her boyfriend. He might be able to explain why."

Alison nearly gasped. "No. She did not just dump my son!" She narrowed her eyes and grabbed ahold of Nick's shirt, startling the tod. "Who did she leave you for? Another fox? A buck? Who, Nicky? Who?"

Nick put up his paws and placed them on her forearms, calming her down only slightly. "It doesn't matter anymore, mom. We obviously weren't meant for each other, okay? I'll be fine. Heartbroken, yes, but otherwise fine." He pushed her arms away, forcing her to release him. Alison let out a sigh and bowed her head.

"I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean to overreact. It's just," she looked up at him with her emerald-green eyes, the eyes that Nick had inherited. "How could she just up and leave you like that? I thought the two of you clicked?"

He shrugged indifferently. "I thought so, too. But, apparently not. Apparently, she was going behind my back with some bunny buck." He snorted and shook his head. "Some friend, huh?"

Alison couldn't believe her ears. Her son, as attractive and charming as he is, and able to get a girl without even trying, was dumped by the girl of his dreams; the girl who had helped set him straight on the right path; the girl who had brought him home to his mother. And she left him? For another buck?? After two months of dating??? It irked Alison. In fact, it frustrated her. How could Judy do that? She told him she loved him, and they acted like the perfect couple. The frustration ebbed away into sadness. Maybe too perfect, her mind echoed solemnly, watching the distant expression etched into her son's features. She hated to see him like this, so broken and hopeless. It reminded her of...that night. She laid back down on his chest and closed her eyes, shuddering violently as the memories played behind her eyelids:

Her nine-year-old son, clad in his mint-condition scout uniform, had come home after their first meeting, way past when they were supposed to be released. She was about to scold him for being late before embracing him in a mama-bear-hug, when she saw the disheveled stained fur, his bloodshot eyes, and the sound of sniffling that reached her ears. Being a 22-year-old mother was difficult for Alison, but she made it work, despite all the ups and downs that came with a teen pregnancy and motherhood. And in the nine years that she'd been his mother, after finishing middle school, graduating early from high school, and skipping college, she picked up a few 'skills', if one could call them. One of them being the innate 'mother's radar', where the maternal parent could almost always pick up something that was troubling their child; she knew that something had happened to her little Nicky. She had approached the distraught kit, knelt down to his height, and held out her arms.

He slowly walked towards her, taking off his uniform one piece at a time, until he reached the pair of white boxer shorts. He left those on as he was pulled into a comforting embrace from Alison. The tears started to run again, and he didn't hold them back like he did when he ran away from those...those...those monsters. His small form began to shake and shiver with every sob he let out, all the while Alison carried him to his bedroom and laid down on his bed, cradling him in her arms and holding him close to her. She could smell the scent of metal and leather in her son's fur. That was when she realized what happened: they had muzzled him.

In her mind, she struggled with what to say to him. That it was okay? That he should just move on? No. What those kids did to him, was unacceptable. It made her angry. Those kids' parents were teaching them to muzzle other kids, particularly predators? Particularly foxes? All because there were labelled as shifty, untrustworthy creatures? What could she say, then? Well, a couple things came to mind:

"I'm sorry you had to suffer through this. I'm sorry that I couldn't prepare you for the horrors of the world, the evil that lingers within the hearts of hateful and spiteful people. I'm sorry that I failed you as a mother. I'm sorry..."

But those words never left her mouth. Instead, it was the words that he would live by for the rest of his life: "Never let them see they get to you. Ever."

Then, it was all over. The memory faded, and she returned to the present day, where her little Nicky was in her arms once more, never to leave them or her again. She sighed, not in despair, or sorrow, but in content. Happiness. Joy. All of that trouble was worth it in the long run. She had raised a handsome young tod, whom she loved with all her heart, and who reciprocated that love back to her. The sigh did not go unnoticed by her half-asleep son. But she didn't care. She hadn't intended it to be as such. "Better?" he said, almost mumbling, but still comprehensible.

Alison smiled and hummed, her eyes still closed as she buried her muzzle into the chest fluff poking out from the collar of his tropical shirt. Her paws clutched at the fabric on the front and she nuzzled the chest fluff before moving up to his neck and under his chin. Nick let out a low chuckle and held her tighter, almost similar to the way she did that fateful night. But all of those negative thoughts and memories were left behind as Alison basked in her son's embrace. That was all that she needed to be happy. And Nick knew that.

The thirty-three-year-old tod also knew the heartache and pain that he had caused her when he left her as soon as he finished high school. Packing up whatever possessions he had, he up and walked out of the house and her life supposedly for good. That is, until he met Judy Hopps. After being set straight by the no-nonsense, headstrong bunny cop - the thought of her made his throat tighten - he returned to Alison soon after leaving the rabbit in the hospital.

He let out a sigh as the brief memory fluttered away and he returned his mother's nuzzling, brushing his muzzle across the top of her head and in between her ears. "I can tell," he said, now fully awake, then sat up a bit to get a better look at her. Alison propped herself up on Nick's chest with her forearms, a half-lidded gaze fixed on him and a cool smile touching her lips. "I'm glad you're feeling better. But you always get so affectionate and touchy-feely with me every now and then," he said, flexing the first two digits on his left paw.

Alison rolled her eyes, but didn't lose her current expression. "You know me, sweetheart. I'm your mother, and mothers always get affectionate towards their children. They love them very much." She scooted up his body a little more until her face was level with his. "And I love you more than anything in this world, Nicholas." She leaned forward and down and pecked the tod on the side of his muzzle before nuzzling him again. "You mean everything to me, and I'm never going to let you go again." She felt one of his paws slide up and down her back in a comforting manner and she finished her statement with the closing of her eyes. "Ever."

---

After spending about thirty minutes or so on the couch in each other's embrace, rubbing and nuzzling one another, Alison finally set her son free from her restrictive hold on him and let him off of the couch. She asked him if he wanted something to eat, and he kindly declined, stating that he had lost his appetite after his botched date with Judy. Alison only shrugged and said that it was his loss for missing her home cooking that he always enjoyed. That did the trick, but he said that wanted to change before preparation for dinner began. She smiled and nodded. With that, he rushed off into the single bedroom and closed the door behind him. Or, at least he thought he did.

In his rush to change out of his 'date attire', Alison caught a glimpse of her son's well-toned body, courtesy of the police academy and his exercise routine in the morning that he sometimes brought her along for. A lump formed in her throat as she watched her son practically and unwittingly stripped in front of her. Then the pants came off, and Alison gasped, putting her paws to her mouth. The sound was loud enough for Nick to catch it and look over at her, and their eyes widened almost simultaneously. The vixen kept glancing down at the sizable bulge in his boxers, no doubt evidence of his hybrid heritage. After a long moment of awkward silence, Alison quickly darted away out of view and into the kitchen, while Nick just stared at the spot where she once stood, attempting to comprehend what had just happened. He then shook his head and got into his pajamas, which consisted of just a pair of basketball shorts, and then walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, where Alison was scrubbing furiously at a pan that she had obviously taken out of the cabinet to get her mind off of their 'encounter'.

He came up beside her and cleared his throat, unintentionally startling her. "Hey," he said, placing a paw on her shoulder. "You okay? Did I scar you for life with the sight of my junk?"

Alison managed a small laugh before shaking head. "No, no. Just...I just...The door was open and I got distracted by the result of what the academy did for you and, well, I stared at you for a bit longer than I am allowed to. Which is not at all."

Nick chuckled and pulled her into a hug, wrapping both of his arms under armpits and around her back. "It's okay. It didn't bother me as much as it should, but it doesn't matter anymore. It's over and done with, in the past, whatever." He pulled back slightly and looked down at her, and she up at him. "Now, what do you say we make some lasagna or something? Just the two of us. Like we used to back in the good old days?"

Momentarily forgetting what just happened mere minutes ago, Alison smiled and nodded. "Okay." Nick mirrored her smile, his emerald-green eyes reflecting her own emerald-green eyes, before leaning forward and pressing his lips on the tip of her nose, making her giggle softly.

"Great," he said after pulling away from the kiss and the hug. "Let's get cooking."

For the remainder of the night, Nick and Alison went at it in the kitchen, dancing back and forth as they prepared their 'dinner for two', passing ingredients and spices to each other and taking turns stirring and mixing, until it was ready to be cooked in the oven. Once it was done about fifteen minutes later, they sat on the couch and munched away on their spinach lasagna, eyes fixed on the flickering television screen of some comedy sitcom, their sides touching, and their tails entwined with one another. At one point, they both snuck glances at each other, smiled, then returned to the television. Except Alison. Her gaze was fixed on the tod who had grown from a poor, insignificant kit with a teenage mom, to a responsible, handsome and attractive tod.

But then the memory of the two of them staring silently at each other, with her eyes unable to tear themselves away from the shapely outline of his sheath and balls that was compressed painfully by his boxer briefs, came back to her, and she was forced to look away from him, her face burning. After dinner was finished, Nick did the dishes and retired to the bedroom. Or rather, he was about to when he noticed his mother's downcast expression. He wondered if it anything to do with his birth father, or what happened just before dinner; the latter was probably the most likely. He was about to approach her and give her a few reassuring words, but he stopped himself, thought against it, and disappeared inside the bedroom.

Alison tilted her head up enough just in time to see her son walk into the darkness, then sighed as she buried her head into her paws, her thoughts a befuddled mess. What's happening to me?