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Dads' Night In

©2021 Bruno Hirschkoff

Their eyes met across the crowded platform of the train station adjacent to the sprawling campus of the University of Rhocarn. In the endless ebb and flow of antlers, horns, ears and manes that flowed from train to platform, platform to train, theirs were the only two heads which remained still, each with their eyes fixed on the other. If either one of them had looked away, both knew, neither of them would have thought any more of it. A fleeting moment of false recognition, little more than a glimpse across an ocean both of heads, and of time. But neither looked away. Moments later, they were face to face.

"Tyler? Tyler Dodd?"

"Bruno Hirschkoff?"

Their combined, bellowing roar of delight, two grizzled men in their mid-forties who had not seen each other in a quarter of a century, echoed across the platform. They embraced powerfully, ignoring the curious stares they were attracting from passers-by. Only after a long, hearty embrace did they put some air between their bodies once more.

"Arahan's rancid nutsack, it's been...how fucking long, Bruno?"

"Twenty-six years. Right? We met at the '87 Retreat and..."

"...all the way through middle and high school, until you..."

"...apprenticed to my old man and you went inland to Frawic for college in '98."

For Bruno the elk stag and Tyler the bull, it was as if they'd never parted ways for more than a semester. They'd been the very best of friends all through their schooling--with the usual ups and downs experienced by all teenagers. Tyler's messy mop of chestnut hair that hung forward between his wide horns was streaked with silver. His brow was deeply furrowed and he had crows' feet around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. He had always been a solidly-built calf, and in adulthood nothing had changed--his belly was rotund and solid, but he wore his weight comfortably, with the width of his waist matched by the breadth of his chest. Bruno noted the wedding ring on his finger, and the subtle bleaching of the fur of his muzzle, ears and the tops of his forearms--indicative of years spent outdoors.

"It's good to see you again," Tyler rumbled, with the barest hint of a blush colouring the fine fur of his cheeks.

They both remembered how intimate their friendship had been, for many years. A smile tweaked at the corners of Bruno's lips. The elk stag, while he was the same age as Tyler, was far leaner and had grown a good ten inches taller--not including the vast antlers that grew like a forest of polished tines from his skull. He was, himself, gaining a little extra around the waist these days--even after a physically demanding career as a carpenter, age catches up with us all, in the end.

Bruno clapped a broad, callused hand on Tyler's shoulder. "We can't possibly part ways after meeting like this, by pure chance. Come on, let's get a beer. What brings you to this side of Rhocarn again after so long? I want to hear everything!"

"Would you believe me if I said I've just been to the U of R campus to see my son?"

"Hah! No way. What's his name? How old is he? What's his major? And what about _you, _what did you end up doing for all these years?" Bruno blurted.

"Uhm... Jalto. He's twenty, in his second year of Xeno-ecology. Real fancy stuff, I don't understand a jot of it. I ended up doing geological surveying; lots of field work. Spent a year in a research station way out east, on the Rift."

"Well that sounds real fancy to me, Tyler. I wouldn't know the first thing about geology. You uh... still married? If it's not rude of me to ask."

"I'm not, no... how did you...?"

"You're wearing a wedding band, but it's on the wrong hand."

"Shit. Is it that obvious?"

"Not especially. I notice these things. What's your poison? I'm buying."

The two men walked into a friendly looking bar and Bruno ordered drinks. The elk's head was swimming, but it had nothing to do with the alcohol he was yet to consume. Tyler's eyes were all over him, almost as if the bull couldn't quite believe he was really there, in the flesh. Bruno wasn't much better; he remembered Tyler as an awkward, stammering young bull with a lisp and a quick curiosity. Yet there he was, a heavyset, confident older man, with a son a year older than Bruno's adopted twins. Bruno set two mugs of ale down on the booth table Tyler had selected, and sat opposite his childhood friend.

"So what about you, Bruno? You've milked me for my story, what's yours? What's happened to you in the last twenty-six years?" Tyler asked, perhaps a little haltingly, as though he was selecting his words carefully.

Bruno grinned at the milking reference.

"Me? Carpenter. Apprenticed to my old man. You remember Ulrich, right?"

"Sure, is he... you know... still...?"

"Yeah yeah, he's still kicking. So's Mom. They're doing really well, enjoying retirement. They live down the coast to the south of Stillwater these days."

"I'm glad to hear it. Uh... family? Kids? Wife? Husband?"

Bruno chuckled. "Now _that's _a story. Don't worry, I won't tell it all at once. I adopted my brother's twin sons in '02, raised them on my own. Never married... not interested. Dieter and Kristian are my life. I reacted like I did to you tellin' me about Jalto, because I'm here to help Kristian settle into his first semester of his Bachelor of Film Production."

Tyler's eyes widened. "Oh, that's amazing! You'll have a film director in the family in no time!"

"I think he's more interested in acting, generally; he's already quite accomplished at basic videography. He took a story I wrote and turned it into a short film for his entrance exam. He's a real performer."

Tyler's ear flicked upward momentarily. Bruno took a long draught from his ale, and the two ungulates' eyes met again when their tankards hit the table. Tyler fidgeted.

"What's your situation right now, Tyler? Where are you staying? Have you got anyone waiting for you to get home, or commitments to keep?"

"Just an empty house," Tyler sighed. "My next field contract doesn't start for a month. Maybe I should..."

"Good. You're coming to my place. Dieter's staying with his uncle."

Bruno would brook no opposition. He and Tyler boarded the next train to Stillwater, and an hour later were walking through the picturesque coastal town in which they'd both grown up.

*

The front door of Bruno's house flew open with a thud and a crash. The elk dragged Tyler inside by his horns and the bull nudged the door shut with his butt. They hadn't come straight home. Indeed, by the time they began to fumble and grind their way through Bruno's house, darkness was falling across the west coast of Rhocarn. They'd walked from the train station to the Artisan District first, via the Market Square, filling in the blanks in each other's knowledge and getting reacquainted.

The day spent together walking through the ancient town of Stillwater was long and rich with shared recollections and long-held admissions. But it wasn't until Bruno took Tyler from his workshop in the Artisan District to the old treehouse he'd built for his twins in the woods behind it, that all the lingering social barriers--and any pretence of propriety--between the two men had finally begun crashing down.

Tyler's gaze was low, and in the dim light of the kitchen the bull could see the outline of Bruno's cock down the leg of his jeans. He leaned in, pressing his body against the stags and palming at the plump outline. Bruno grunted and backed up with a crash against the kitchen cabinets. Tyler groaned hornily.

"I can smell you from here," the bull grunted hoarsely.

"Likewise. It's gonna smell real manly in here before long. How about you get down there, huh?"

Tyler needed no prompting, although it took him a minute to get down onto the kitchen floor. Age had not been as kind to his knees as it had to Bruno's. Tyler adjusted himself and felt a weight settle on the top of his horned head. It was Bruno's hand. The stag's groin was at Tyler's eye level, and the bull could smell his cock through the sweat-laden denim of his very well-worn jeans. The crotch was loose and held wrinkles easily, even as the aged cotton held very little form at all. Tyler shuffed in closer and placed his hands at Bruno's hips. The stag gently pulled his head in closer, until he felt the bull's muzzle press firmly into the loose crotch of his jeans. The warmth of Bruno's cock transmitted through the threadbare cotton directly to Tyler's muzzle, and the bull groaned heatedly. He breathed deeply, filling his lungs over and over with the rich, earthy scent of Bruno's cock, filtered through denim covered in the elk's dried precum stains, accumulated over the course not just of today, but several days previous as well.

Tyler's ears flicked back and forth. It should not have been anywhere near as hot as it was, he thought. The combined scent of sweat, precum, general crotch-musk and a hint of urine came together into a heavy, dense potion that set Tyler's brain on fire. His cock ached and twitched in his chinos, harder than the bull had been in a long time. He fumbled and palmed at it in a way that, to Bruno, was distantly familiar. The elk's penis thickened steadily against Tyler's eager nuzzling, until he could see the subtle ridge of Bruno's head through the denim. He was clearly going commando, just the way he always used to. Tyler nuzzled heatedly at the thickening rod, pushing it side to side inside its fabric prison with his muzzle and sucking as much of that glorious, masculine scent into his lungs as he could. It was such a unique scent. He knew it wouldn't be the same once he got Bruno out of his jeans. It might be better. But the anticipation in itself was a special moment for Tyler.

Bruno gazed down at his old friend with a smirk on his muzzle. It was clear how much the bull was into this. There was no romance between them--there never had been. Nor was there any urgency for the low buzz of arousal between them to escalate. But...

"Not to break the mood," Bruno said, his voice low and husky, "but how about we head upstairs? Somewhere more comfortable."

Tyler's ear twitched. Was the elk proposing to bed him? The bull wrestled with a moment of indecision. Was he prepared for that? Was he even into it? Or was what he felt in those moments driven by a hormonal lust brought on by years of sexual solitude? His brows knitted together and he lingered on his knees, unwilling to give an immediate reply. The warmth of Bruno's penis against his face, separated by just a single threadbare layer of cotton, filled his mind with a horny fog--but did he really want to progress beyond that?

"What do you have in mind?" Tyler asked.

There must have been a note of apprehension in his voice, because Bruno replied without hesitation; "Nothing you're uncomfortable with. C'mon, I've been on my hooves all day, and this floor can't be doing your joints any favours."

Tyler couldn't argue with that. He grunted and, with one last lingering breath through Bruno's jeans, leaned back. He frowned, braced his hands on his thighs, and heaved upward.

"Shit. Fuck. Ow!"

"What?"

"Knees. You're damned right. Fucking arthritis, help me up, would ya?"

Bruno couldn't suppress his laughter. It was good natured though, and Tyler eventually staggered to his hooves with Bruno's help. The bull eventually saw the humour in it as well, and offered a throaty chuckle.

"Look at us," Bruno jibed. "Two old farts pretending to be virile young men again. Come on. Can you manage the stairs?"

"Of course I can," blustered Tyler.

"Sure, sure. I'll get you an anti-inflammatory..."

"Might kill the erection," Tyler chuckled.

Bruno glanced into the bull's crotch, to where the firm ridge of his erection bore a sizeable wet spot where he'd leaked into his chinos.

"I don't remember you being much of a precum guy," Bruno observed. For some reason, the sight of Tyler's obvious arousal thickened the elk's penis even more than the bull's worship of his scent. He adjusted himself openly, pointing his cock towards his right hip.

"I never used to be. Started taking supplements for prostate health and... that was a side effect. Can't say I mind it."

"Me neither. Hah, my son Kristian took supplements for a while, too, although he took them specifically for the precum production."

Tyler's eyes widened. "You... know that? He told you?"

"Yup. Showed me, too. My boys and I have quite an open relationship. It's always just been the three of us around the house, although my brother dropped in for a while too. In an all-male household like this I didn't want us all to be sneaking around hiding stuff from each other."

"Arahan's balls, that's far more arousing than it should be."

"You're telling me," Bruno smirked. "You're... not as straight as you always used to claim to be, are you?"

"No shit, Bruno. I'd say I'm fifty-fifty, just took me a while to come to terms with it. We grew up in a different time."

"That's for sure. How're your knees, can you walk yet?"

"Of course I fucking can, I'm waiting for you!"

"Sure, sure..."

"Lead the way, coatrack."

Bruno groped Tyler's slimy bulge roughly as he pushed off the kitchen counter, pressing his body tightly to the bull's far more than was necessary to simply walk past him. Tyler groaned and shoved his hips forward, then returned fire with a hearty grapple of the elk's tight, toned butt.

"Damn, you've kept in good shape," Tyler mumbled.

He got an even better view of Bruno's hindquarters moments later, as the elk stag led him up the stairs to the mezzanine lounge above the kitchen. He knew he was looking, too--at least, Tyler assumed as much, given the way he flagged his tail.

"I've tried to stay healthy," Bruno said over his shoulder. "Helps with the libido."

"Can't say I've ever struggled in that regard, I'm still an every-day kinda guy," Tyler chuckled.

"I recall you being far more than that!"

"Right back atcha, mister 'I bet I can cum quicker than you!'"

Bruno laughed and turned to face Tyler at the top of the stairs. The portly bull was forcing himself not to appear out of breath. It wasn't the climb that had caused his heart rate to spike, though, and Bruno was not in much better shape.

"Still with me there?" Bruno rumbled, stepping in close and cupping a palm to Tyler's crotch once the bull moved away from the top of the stairs.

The mezzanine lounge was small and cozy, dominated by Bruno's old quarter-circle couch around a small table of the stag's own construction, and an old entertainment unit against the wall opposite.

Tyler groaned quietly. "Wilted a little but... keep doing that and... yeah, there it is..."

"I can feel that," Bruno breathed.

He squeezed Tyler's cock through his chinos, exhaling warmly across his old friend's ear. Tyler's hands moved tentatively at first to the elk's waist, and then around behind him to the tail-clasp of his jeans. Bruno felt the pop-stud release and thumbed over the slimy patch at the tip of Tyler's cock, causing the bull to shudder and flex.

"Are we gonna show each other our dicks, or what?" Tyler grunted. "It's been twenty-six years since I saw it..."

Bruno's lips tweaked upwards into a slow, dirty smile, and a warm chuckle vibrated forth against Tyler's ear. The elk's hand tightened briefly around the bull's cock, causing Tyler to grunt from the stimulation and rock his hips subtly into his old friend's grip. Tyler's question had struck a chord with Bruno, reminding him of the way he had been when they were curious and excitable adolescents together. Over the course of those moments, the elk stag's cock thickened and firmed up once again in his jeans, such that when he stepped back from Tyler, the bull's eye was drawn to the obvious swelling.

"I'd ask if you need a handful of lotion, but..." Bruno smirked, eyeing the stain in Tyler's pants.

"Ahh, yeah, I don't think I need it," the bull grinned deviously.

Bruno's fingers deftly popped the button of his jeans, loosening the waistband. Then he slowly lowered his fly. Tyler stared. It was clear the bull was looking for a show, and Bruno was only too happy to oblige him after such a protracted absence. With his buttons open front and rear, Bruno could untuck his shirt and unbutton it, revealing the dense trail of silver-speckled mahogany fur that extended from his mane, over his chest and down his solid abdomen. He was solid muscle--mostly. His belly was getting a little soft with age, but it only added to the appeal of his physique, for Tyler. Between the open flaps of his jeans, the dense fur continued southwards and thickened to frame the base of his manhood.

Tyler swallowed thickly. He stepped in and slid his hands around Bruno's chest inside his shirt, pushing the garment off over his shoulders. Then his hands fell, perhaps a little greedily, to the open fly of Bruno's jeans. The elk let Tyler explore, but stopped him before he could shuck down his pants entirely. By then, they were being held up by little more than his half-erect penis.

"Uh-uh. You don't get to see any further than my scar until you take a few layers off, Tyler."

Tyler snorted. "You act as if you _want _to see me naked."

"Should I not?"

"Well... you can see me perfectly clearly. I'm not exactly carved of marble, you know."

"I can, as you say, see that." Bruno's hands came to rest on either side of Tyler's soft tummy, then slid up over his chest to his shoulders, and down his back. "This isn't some stupid reality TV dating show, I'm not here to judge your appearance. Get comfy, get horny, and let's do stuff."

"I'm... at least one of those things already, Bruno."

"Yes, I can smell your dick from here."

"Or is that yours?"

"No, it's definitely... hmm..." Bruno paused, sniffing the humid, heavy air between them. "Both. Yeah, it's both."

Tyler laughed, and Bruno took the opportunity to pop the buttons of the bull's shirt, one by one, until neither of the pair were wearing more than their pants. Bruno's fingers made quick work of Tyler's button and fly. Unlike Bruno, the bull was wearing underwear, so to level the playing field, Bruno relieved him of his chinos. The elk fell into an easy squat and winked up at Tyler. It took some effort, with how erect Tyler was, but the stag managed to separate the bull's pants from his underwear and slide the former down to his hooves. He took a long moment to simply stare at the precum-soaked ridge in Tyler's white boxer briefs, flaring his nostrils to capture the dense, fresh aroma of his old friend's precum. The soaked, clinging cotton left nothing to Bruno's imagination, but then, it was nothing he hadn't seen hundreds of times before. Somehow, their youthful familiarity stole nothing from the excitement of the moment--it was like reading an old book with new-found maturity.

"Nngh... fuck... Bruno..." Tyler croaked.

The bull's cock flexed visibly an inch from Bruno's muzzle. The stag grinned up at him, and when he rose to his hooves once again, his jeans remained on the floor.

"Oops," he smirked.

Tyler's eyes fell to Bruno's groin and a guttural moan escaped him at the sight of the elk's half-erect penis, bobbing slowly upward now that it was freed from his clothing. Automatically, he reached for it, and Bruno allowed him to. The bull's fingers were softer than Bruno's own. He hefted the tightly circumcised, age-weathered weight of Bruno's cock, exploring it with his touch. Both men were breathing heavily in their gradually mounting arousal. Bruno reached out to Tyler's waist and teased his thumbs around the waistband of the bull's underwear.

"Time to free the beast?" he ventured.

Tyler nodded breathlessly. In that moment he was a horny teenager again, and Bruno was not much better.

The elk stag was fully erect, at last. A solid seven and a half inches stood proud from his groin. Tyler palmed and fumbled the rigid flesh heatedly, allowing his palm to glide across Bruno's dry, velvety skin. He allowed Tyler to explore for a moment, observing the furious blush that coloured his friend's cheeks and muzzle, and to hear his shaky breathing.

"Puberty was a lot kinder to you than it was to me," Tyler mumbled.

"Oh don't be so self-deprecating!" Bruno chuckled. "You're a handsome guy. You don't have to measure yourself against other people all the time."

"Easy for you to say, you've got a pornstar cock," Tyler grunted.

Bruno snorted. "I mean... thanks? I think? I wouldn't mind a little more skin movement, but you gotta work with what you have, right? Now c'mere."

The elk took a few steps backward and sat on the edge of the couch. He beckoned Tyler forward, and the bull approached. His rotund belly was at Bruno's eye level. Bruno's hands settled on his hips once again, and this time when his thumbs slid beneath Tyler's waistband, it was not to tease his friend. He peeled the slimy cotton away from Tyler's cock and, with his eyes turned upward, rolled the garment down the bull's thighs. He could smell Tyler's cock strongly, hunched forward as he was with his hands at the bull's fetlocks and his snout at his belly button.

Finally, he looked down. Tyler's cock twitched stiffly, pointing straight out at Bruno with a thick rope of precum stringing down from beneath his bare glans to the mess he'd left in his boxer briefs. Tyler was, like Bruno, circumcised; but his cut had always been a fair bit more moderate than the elk's. Age and his body type had caused his pubic mound to thicken over the years, which had loosened the skin of his shaft still more, such that even as erect as he was, Tyler had a ridge of loose skin behind his glans.

Bruno's muzzle split into a wide grin when he felt Tyler's hand come to rest tentatively on his head between his antlers. The bull was shaking visibly, he was so turned on. His belly heaved with his deep, rapid breaths. The elk leaned in and carefully pressed his muzzle in against the side of Tyler's base, inhaling the subtle musk of his friend's pubic fur deeply. What was less subtle was the streak of precum the bull's cock launched against Bruno's cheek as he did so.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Bruno murmured.

"Twenty-six y..."

"No, I mean, since you got your rocks off. With or without a partner."

"Oh, uh... yeah. Little over a week."

"So much for being an every-day guy."

"Hey, I was deliberately saving it, it feels better when you back it up a b...fffuck!"

Tyler's words were cut short as Bruno's hand moved first to cup Tyler's full, hefty balls, and then curled around his cock. His rough, callused hand smeared the bull's precum along the length of his shaft, surrounding it in slimy warmth. His legs shook, visibly tensing, and Bruno felt his friend's fingers curl, digging into his hair. Abruptly, the elk felt Tyler's hips jerk slightly, and a rush of heat splattered his cheek. Then another, and another. Tyler's cock pulsed in his gentle grip.

"Oh, fuck..." Bruno breathed.

He tenderly stroked his old friend through his premature ejaculation, allowing Tyler to empty himself exactly as he was, without recoiling or interrupting the unexpected rush. Cum filled his hand and dripped onto the rug between their hooves, and Tyler was leaning heavily on Bruno. When his climax passed, the elk gave him a minute to gather his thoughts, holding his wilting penis in his hand still.

"Oh by Lakesh's barnacle-encrusted cunt... Bruno, I'm so sorry, I didn't... it just... I couldn't..." Tyler stammered, his voice thick with gruff embarrassment.

"Hey, don't sweat it, Tyler. I take that as quite a compliment. Apologies if I ruined your build-up, though."

Bruno shuffled back and leant against the backrest of the couch. The elk's penis throbbed between his thighs, rising like a monument above his loose, low-hanging fruit. The stretch in his balls made his shaft look even bigger than it was.

"Uh, should I get you a towel or..."

"Nope. Got that covered, don't you worry," Bruno chuckled. "Sit your ass down already, would you? Relax. It's completely alright!"

With his cheeks and muzzle burning in embarrassment still, Tyler complied. The couch jolted under him as he fell into it, a few feet away from Bruno. The stag leaned over the armrest and produced a clearly well-used towel from beneath the couch, with which he wiped his hand and cheek.

"Hmm. Decent load," he observed.

"Thanks," Tyler grunted. The bull gestured vaguely at Bruno's erection. "Do you want me to... you know..."

"Nope. Not until you're into it again. As I said, nothing that makes you uncomfortable. And I know from experience that being asked to get someone off moments after you've blown your wad is one of the most uncomfortable things."

Tyler exhaled in a rush, obviously relieved. He'd softened completely and took the towel when Bruno offered it, using it to mop up a few errant drips of semen from his cock, to prevent it from staining the couch. The two men sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, during which time Bruno's erection gradually subsided, until it hung loosely over his balls, almost down to the cushion he sat on.

"Tell me more about Jalto?" Bruno prompted, turning to face Tyler.

"What about him?"

"Oh, anything. I didn't even know you had a son until this morning. What's he like? How's your relationship with him?"

"Huh. I uh. He was kind of an unexpected blessing, you know? Merta and I... we didn't think we could even have a calf, so we weren't... careful, you know?"

"I think that's more common than any of us know. My brother was just the same, which is why he's a full ten years younger'n me. Mom and dad thought the old candle had guttered, but obviously not. I... can't say _entirely _from experience, but I imagine it's the most incredible blessing."

Tyler chuckled, after a moment's consideration. "You know, you're right. We were scared shitless at first. We were not prepared to raise a calf. We lived in a one-bedroom flat in Amelsbörg. We had to turn our lives upside down to accommodate him, but... yeah, when he arrived, it all made sense. He became the focus. Our reason for everything. I imagine it was much the same with your twins, right?"

"You can say that again, although the surprise factor was probably even more pronounced for me, since I was and always have been single."

"Wait, always? Have you never...?"

"I'm asexual, Tyler. Not that you'd know it," Bruno grinned.

Tyler's mind whirled. "But you just... we... I... oh fuck, this isn't like, totally wrong for you, is it?"

"Tyler, Tyler, easy! Easy. No. You're fine. This is fine. C'mon, we jerked off together hundreds of times, this is no different to that. Being asexual is a fluid and changeable thing and doesn't mean I don't have a libido. It just means I don't have the urge to bury my bone in your backyard."

Tyler grunted. "Kinda glad about that, that's always been a one-way street."

"You and me both. But anyway. Jalto. Merta. What happened? Can I ask that?"

From butt-sex to family without even taking a breath. Tyler blinked a few times, processing the sudden change of topic.

"Sure you can. Uh. Merta and I were married for fifteen years, until Jalto was ten. We just... drifted apart, you know? We're still friends, I guess. We see each other fairly regularly. Used to, anyway, I don't know if that'll happen now Jalto's in college, now that the whole shared custody thing is over with."

"Sorry 'bout that, Tyler. People change. I get that. Work?"

"Yeah, I was away a lot."

"She felt like she didn't know you anymore, felt like the flame was gone and you were burying yourself in work to avoid the difficult questions. You still wear that ring, but it's on the wrong hand. Your love for her never died, but these things only work when they're a two-way street."

"You're a perceptive old bastard, aren't you?"

"Sorry, didn't mean to pry."

"You're not. You're absolutely spot-on."

Bruno leaned across and clapped a hand on Tyler's shoulder. "I've heard that before. I'll be right back, I need a piss."

Tyler's eyes flicked to Bruno's groin, and then to his buttocks, as the elk stood and meandered down the hallway to the bathroom. He was so comfortable in his nudity, Tyler found himself thinking. A pang of jealousy flitted through the bull's mind. Bruno didn't even shut the bathroom door, nor did he attempt to piss quietly. He belched noisily as he returned, and offered Tyler a warm smile.

"Can I get you a beer or anything, Tyler?"

"Uh, sure, that would be... uh, Bruno? You've got a drip, there."

The bull tossed Bruno his cum-rag, and Bruno glanced down to where an errant drop of piss hung ponderously from his dangling tip.

"Nice, thanks for lettin' me know," Bruno chuckled. He dabbed at it, and tossed the towel playfully at Tyler's face.

The bull feigned disgust, but as Bruno plodded down the stairs to fetch them some drinks, he found himself eyeing the stained piece of cloth. He could smell it clearly. It reeked of elk cum, even though it clearly got washed routinely. Slouching down in his seat a little, Tyler lifted the towel to his muzzle and inhaled deeply through it. His own scent clung to it, of course, but Bruno's was far stronger. Concentrated. He located the drop of urine the stag had just added to the towel and, after a moment of indecision, pressed the tiny wet spot right against his nose. It was rich with masculinity. Fresh and musty, at the same time. Blood flowed into the bull's groin afresh, and while he didn't get completely erect, a fresh drool of precum welled up along his manhood. He swiped it up with the towel, then returned it to his muzzle.

"What... oh," Bruno's words died on his lips and the elk couldn't suppress a throaty laugh.

_How did he climb the stairs so quietly?! _Tyler thought. He flung the towel away from his face as though it had spontaneously combusted and covered his half-erection with an open hand.

"After how hard you got over smelling me through my jeans, I don't think it's any surprise you're into... manly scents," Bruno laughed. He sat down heavily right next to the bull and passed him a beer.

Their bottles clinked, and the two men drank silently for a moment.

"You probably think I'm some depraved musk slut," Tyler grunted.

"Musk slut... I like that. Catchy. But no, I don't. Would it matter if I did? Just means I know a button of yours I can press! I like pressing buttons."

Tyler drank another long swig of beer. Bruno laid a casual arm along the backrest of the couch behind his old friend and, almost as an automatic response, Tyler leaned into the elk. The subtle, not unpleasant scent of the stag's sweat caught Tyler's attention. It was painfully obvious that Bruno knew, and Tyler knew he knew. But it didn't matter. There were no mind games. Just two middle-aged dads drinking beer and hanging out naked with a crusty towel on the couch beside them. And pressing buttons. It wasn't long before Tyler found himself slouching down and angling his muzzle to capture more of the subtle scents that rose from his old friend, and Bruno facilitated him however he could. Given the strength of his erection from earlier and the subsequent lack of release, the elk's cock rose and fell several times in that short time. Tyler watched it curiously.

"Enjoying the view?" Bruno asked quietly, his voice a soft rumble in Tyler's ear.

The bull grunted appreciatively. "Of course. I uh... I don't mind if you want to crank it, you were pretty hard earlier before I jumped the gun."

"I was. You know, you don't have to beat around the bush if you want to watch me masturbate. I'm pretty open about that kinda stuff," as he spoke, Bruno rose to erection again, and this time it stayed.

Tyler inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with Bruno's various bodily scents again, and stared at the softly twitching spire rising from his friend's groin. His stare was all the confirmation Bruno needed, even if Tyler's cock hadn't been hardening again, too. The stag reclaimed his arm from behind Tyler, and slouched down in the couch with his legs spread in front of him. His callused hand surrounded his shaft, delivering a firm squeeze that made his glans flare and deepen in colour. Tyler swallowed thickly. Almost without conscious thought, the bull echoed his old friend's position, displaying himself with equal lack of self-consciousness. A soft upward squeeze against the base of his glans caused a thick drool of precum to spill over and string onto his belly.

"Sprung a leak, again?" Bruno grunted.

"Plenty more where that came from."

"Spare me a bit? Lotion's in the bedroom."

Tyler gave an appreciatively horny groan and pumped his cock a few times, then a few more. It was a furtive, staccato cadence that Bruno instantly remembered from their innumerable youthful sessions that had played out just like this. After a few more pumps, Tyler milked upward along his urethra again and captured the resultant drool in his left palm. Twice more he repeated the process while Bruno watched on, squeezing firmly behind his glans and producing a small droplet of his own, which clung to his tip like a dewdrop.

Then Tyler held out his hand. Bruno released his cock, grabbed Tyler's wrist, and guided the bull's hand to his cock. Tyler gasped in shock at first, but Bruno's grin urged him on. His slimy, slick palm and fingers curled around Bruno's dry shaft, lubricating the stag with Tyler's precum. Bruno's hand, meanwhile, wandered over Tyler's thigh and, as its destination became obvious, he released his own cock. Tyler's hand twisted around Bruno's cock, corkscrewing up and down over the stag's larger, much tighter member, and Bruno took Tyler's in his own grip once again as he had done only half an hour previously.

"Not gonna pop again if I do this?" Bruno teased.

"Nnnh," Tyler replied.

Bruno flexed and rolled his hips upward into Tyler's grasp. The slickness of his friend's precum, smeared along his rigid cock by Tyler's hand, was an intimacy Bruno had not experienced in a long while. The bull was good--his rhythm on Bruno's cock almost perfectly matched the way he'd have been treating it himself. Every upward stroke tightened around his head, and every downward gave a little twist around the narrow band of his scar. Bruno, meanwhile, was not attempting to emulate Tyler's masturbation style. He allowed the bull's precum to lubricate his hand, twisting and stroking his friend's cock slowly and firmly.

"You can... hff... go a little harder if you want, Bruno," Tyler prompted him.

"Oh? Not too sensitive?"

"Bruno, I've been beating the shit out of this thing for nearly forty years, it needs a bit of friction!"

"Could've fooled me," Bruno grinned.

Tyler flashed him a glare, and had the satisfaction of hearing the elk gasp when he twisted his hand especially hard around his glans. But instead of wincing at the roughness, Bruno thrust his hips upward into it, and Tyler's cock flexed and twitched in response. Bruno indulged the bull, and began to stroke his friend harder. His hand was quickly slick with precum, and over the minutes that followed they switched cocks several times, sharing Tyler's natural lubricant between them. The buildup was slow, deliberately so. Neither Bruno nor Tyler felt any urgency to 'get there;' this was all about enjoying the moment and sharing sensations. But as time passed and the rich, salty musk of horny ungulate rose around them like a cloud, their mutual and shared masturbation became steadily more eager. Their breathing became ragged and hoarse only for hands to cease and groans of frustration to be uttered, then a laugh shared and stroking resumed.

"Hey," Bruno said breathlessly, after another teasing pause.

"Yeah?"

"If you'd kept going another five seconds..."

Tyler's eyes focused on Bruno's, then fell to the elk's straining cock twitching wetly in his hand. "Oh... want me to?"

Bruno didn't reply, but his hand never stopped its steady, rhythmic pace on Tyler's cock. The bull groaned softly and his gaze faltered. He took that as a 'yes.'

Tentatively, Tyler brought his other hand up to Bruno's chest. The elk gave a soft grunt of approval at the spread of Tyler's fingers over his pectoral, parting the dense fur in search of a nipple. Subtly, he pushed his chest outward and leaned over to moan breathily into Tyler's ear. He was so close. His heavy balls, which had been bouncing loosely for most of their mutual play, clenched up tightly beneath his rigid shaft, and his hips gyrated and rolled almost of their own accord, driving his slick manhood through Tyler's pumping fist. Bruno's rhythm on his friend's cock faltered when the bull finally lit his fuse.

"Don't stop!" Bruno grunted. "Towel!"

Tyler obliged, sparing the hand on Bruno's chest momentarily to furnish him with the 'special times' towel. Bruno gripped it, and did his best to maintain his pace of stroking to Tyler's cock.

Tyler picked up the pace again, bodily pumping Bruno's full length with deep, rapid strokes. Finally, a fingertip bumped the elk's right nipple. The barest contact, a mere brush of a finger over and around the sensitive peak set Bruno's dopamine receptors on fire. He sucked in a sharp breath and held it, gritting his teeth, and then released it in a guttural moan. His hips convulsed. Tyler felt the hard, rhythmic throb of orgasm flutter to life in his hand. Bruno hurriedly threw the towel down on his abdomen, and Tyler aimed the stag's cock straight upward, pumping rapidly up against the back of his glans. A heavy shudder wracked Bruno's frame and a geyser of cum erupted from him, arcing high and splattering onto the towel. Then another, and another; each spurt was a messy, split-stream eruption that sprinkled Tyler's arm, the elk's thighs and the lucky towel with his virile offering. Bruno's eyes were closed and he was breathing hard, riding the waves of his orgasm. His hand, while it had lost its rhythm, kept hold of Tyler's penis. The bull took the opportunity to shove his hips through Bruno's fist, stimulating himself to the sight of his old friend ejaculating all over himself.

Bruno had barely begun to surface from his climax when Tyler gasped loudly and groaned.

"Quick, gimme the towel!" he grunted.

Bruno could barely function. He plucked at the sticky towel. His fingers slipped on his own emissions. The towel dropped. Tyler moaned throatily and Bruno could feel the bull thrusting eagerly into his fist. He clumsily attempted to match his pace, and finally managed to get the towel beneath Tyler's cock just as the bull started to cum for the second time. His ejaculation was far less powerful than Bruno's, but was still plentiful. Bruno held the damp towel under his tip, milking Tyler's shaft forward between his thighs into it.

Both men remained there in situ in the aftermath of their peaks for several long minuted. The towel, thoroughly wet and soaked through with their shared seed, lay in the crumpled heap across Tyler's thigh. Their respective erections subsided gradually and eventually, Bruno reached forward to pick up their half-consumed beers from the coffee table.

"Cheers," he said simply, clinking bottles with his friend and taking a mouthful. "You alright?"

Tyler grunted. "Yeah, I uh... it's been a long time since I went off twice in such quick succession."

Bruno chuckled. "I'll take that as another compliment."

"I thought you might."

"We ought to think about dinner. Takeout? What do you fancy?"

"Are you going to put pants on to greet the delivery boy?"

"Of course not," Bruno grinned.

*

Dieter awoke early. He could never sleep in when he stayed at his Uncle Gerald's apartment in the centre of town; it was part of the reason why he did so as often as he did. It granted him the time to move at his own pace, lingering over his morning coffee before he made his way up to the Artisan District, to the workshop that for many years had been solely Bruno's.

Before heading to the workshop, though, Dieter called in to his favourite patisserie, a characterful establishment called the Cog & Cup, to pick up pastries for breakfast for himself and Bruno. After seeing his other son Kristian off to college the previous day, Dieter wanted to make sure his dad was alright, rattling around the house on his own for the first time in years.

Dieter crept out of Gerald's apartment without waking him. Dawn was just barely breaking, but already there was a muffled suggestion of activity buzzing around Stillwater Cove's Old Quarter. As much as he loved a good sleep-in, Dieter adored the feeling of being out and about so early. The suns had just cleared the hills east of the town when he arrived at his childhood home at the beach.

Without a second thought, Dieter opened the door, holding the bag containing his pastries in his mouth. He froze upon hearing two voices from the kitchen, and soft laughter. He sniffed the air. Coffee. And... something else, too. Something musty.

"Hey Dad!" Dieter called warily.

"Fuck, shit, arse!"

There was a flurry of heavy hoof-steps and the sound of a door slamming. It was an unfamiliar voice.

"Uh, morning, Deets," came Bruno's voice.

Dieter walked along the short hallway into the kitchen. His father stood leaning on the kitchen counter, cradling a mug of coffee. He was stark naked. Dieter snorted and averted his eyes, but it was nothing he hadn't seen dozens of times before.

"Who's... there's someone else here, isn't there? It smells... manly... in here."

Bruno chuckled. "Coffee?"

"Sure, thanks. Who is it?"

"Ahh..." Bruno cleared his throat. "Old friend."

"Right... and I presume, then, that he's balls-out naked as well, probably with dick juice in his fur and hiding in the pantry?"

Bruno swung the pantry door open without so much as a second's hesitation. And there was Tyler, all of him, holding a cornflakes packet over himself; an attempt to grapple at even the vaguest modicum of decency.

Their eyes met, and the bull blustered gruffly, gesticulating at Bruno.

"We ran into each other at the RU campus station," Bruno explained calmly, pouring Dieter a mug of coffee. "After twenty-six years, we had a lot of catching up to do, so we had a uh... a Dads' night in!"

"So I see. Should've told me," Dieter said. "I'd have picked up three pastries instead of just two." To Tyler; "Hi, I'm Dieter. I'm his kid. One of them."

Tyler's mouth opened and closed several times, and the bull dropped his cornflakes when Dieter greeted him with a firm handshake. The younger stag's eyes flicked downwards and he chuckled quietly, an almost perfect facsimile of his father's voice.

"If I'd known you'd be that pleased to meet me, I'd have worn something nicer..."

#