Fang, Hoof, Antler, Claw: Samiel's Encounter
Samiel rolled over again in the pleasantly-musky bed, looking out the window. Only two moons were in the sky, so it was after midnight, but Steve still wasn't back. It hadn't been that late when the big buck had left to go get Samiel's possessions from Jasper, who had been Samiel's boyfriend, and then, Samiel's rapist.
Rapist. Samiel whimpered and curled up, holding back tears. He was thankful to Steve for the place to rest, but all alone, in the dark, it was very hard to sleep. His mind kept wandering, and always seemed to settle down upon unhappy thoughts and fears. He kept his eyes squeezed shut and began naming the 25 Heirs, the mythical God-Kings every fawn learned about in the Temple. It was his own private calming ritual, and he had used it more today than he had the entire last year.
_First was Omelas who sacrificed all,
Second was Arak who sounded the call,
Third was Grim Ruros, who settled the laws,
Fourth was Tenedevon, who gave the Wolves pause..._
Samiel was so used to calming himself this way that before the Fifth Heir's name passed his lips he was already breathing evenly again, though no closer to sleep. He switched from his side to his stomach and nuzzled into the pillows, smelling the musky, virile odor of Steve and sighing happily. That's what he wanted, why he couldn't sleep. He felt vulnerable, alone. He wanted that big tawny buck back here so he could curl up against him and drift off to sleep feeling protected, just like Jasper had, on the good days...
Samiel grumbled. While he wouldn't miss class, it being the weekend, he was going to be lurching around like a zombie all day if he didn't get to sleep soon. And while drifting back to traumatic personal episodes of the day was certainly a barrel of fun (not), his nascent insomnia was one of several more pressing problems right now.
Like how he needed to pee.
Thankful that Steve didn't have a roommate to wake, Samiel rolled out of bed, flipped the light, and blinked as it flared briefly before burning out.
"Balls of the First Stag." Samiel cursed to no one in particular. He stepped over to where he remembered disrobing, first feeling about with his feet, and when that resulted in only carpet, he dropped to his hands and knees. Whether he had misremembered where he put his clothes, they had been moved, or had attained sentience and slithered out on their own didn't matter, he was alone in an unfamiliar room in the dark, naked, on a full bladder. He glanced around, the dim lunar light his only guide. While it might have been enough if he had been outside under trees, inside the room even his people's crepuscular nature was foiled. He stepped slowly towards what he hoped was a dresser, and was rewarded as his hand gripped a latch. He slid it open and felt over the cloth inside. Tight weave on a short, heavy cloth. Definitely a kilt. He took it and a holding brooch, hoping shirtlessness wouldn't be an issue just to get to the bathroom.
Looping the fabric about himself reinforced how big a size difference he and Steve had. He felt dwarfed, like a kid wearing his father's clothes to play at being a stag. Fortunately, that meant he had a lot of experience in just such an act and his hands wrapped and wove it deftly, setting the brooch in to pin it as if it were his own clothing. Grabbing the dormroom key on the table (that at least hadn't vanished), he stepped out the door.
The long hallway was much dimmer than it had been earlier. The light hadn't burnt out, the dorm had lost power. Emergency lights had clicked on and so the path was illuminated in muted reds and golds. No alarms or klaxons were sounding, so it wasn't an emergency.
His bladder, on the other hand...
Steve hadn't shown him the facilities on arrival, likely expecting to have been back before any issue presented itself, especially since according to the signs at the corners, Samiel was right near one. The sign at the end of one corner pointed to the door at the end, but Samiel had walked through it only to find an open-air garden. He turned around, re-entered, and peeked down the hall, already impatiently stamping in need. This hallway pointed him in the same direction, to the door. He grunted in frustration. He knew old tiger buildings basically had an outhouse among the garden, but anything in the last 50 years must have had at least a token bathroom for other cultures, especially given that tiger colleges had more foreigners than tigers. He was half-hunched at this point and was preparing to go piss in the bushes like some filthy barbarian wolf, when a hulking shadow opened the door to the garden, stepped to the side of the path, and began noisily emptying its bladder into the nearest shrub.
Samiel walked over, whatever trepidation at addressing a wolf late at night in an unfamiliar area while the lupine was defacing horticulture numbed beneath the buck's full bladder.
"E-excuse me, but-" The wolf had already whipped around, looked straight ahead (where Steve's eyes would have been), and then had looked down to the half-hunched little buck doing the bladder dance.
"You speak Tenedevonian, little brother?" There was almost no accent.
Samiel's eyes widened a bit, either in surprise or as he felt his muscles spasm in protest. "Y-yes but-"
"Follow me, up the stairs!" The heavyset wolf was already halfway up a set of concrete stairs hidden by artistically-tended vines that camouflaged it into the background of greenery.
Samiel beat him to the top.
"Left door, stalls on the left, urinals on the right!"
Samiel burst into the dimly-lit bathroom, pirouetted to the right, and flipped the front of his kilt up, spraying the communal trough violently enough that he heard the wolf behind him bark softly in sympathy, or maybe admiration.
"Astura's Vengeful Left Tit, how much did you drink!?"
Samiel grunted, his knees feeling like they were about to buckle as he panted in relief. He rested his forearms against the cool tile above the trough.
"Didn't drink. Just a bad day with no breaks."
The universe, out of spite, chose that moment to turn the lights back on. Samiel and the wolf both flinched, grumbled, and slowly unsqueezed their eyes in the suddenly-brilliant bathroom. Samiel squeaked as he saw his lupine savior.
The wolf was big, for starters, about on par with Steve, but with a build that would be called "stocky" if he were actually short. He seemed about as wide as he was tall, and Samiel had to crane his neck to look him in the eye. Where Steve was muscular, but trim and toned, this wolf was heavyset, muscular. His back was dark metallic grey, a few degrees off from black, shading towards a lighter underside that ended at his lower muzzle, his entire hide scored over with small scars from fangs and knives. He had a shock of pale hair in a single messy braid, a similarly pale goatee on his muzzle, and his chest and armpit hair followed the same coloration. The thick bush on his broad pecs had a treasure trail that went down all his belly, then further to give a silvery halo about the large, dark lupine sheath and balls. Samiel blushed as he realized the wolf had been naked this entire time. Given the predatory grin the wolf was giving him, Samiel had been staring pretty hard. He decided to continue to do so.
The meaty sheath hung low, its weight enough to leave it swaying just with the wolf's breathing, though on a beast this size genitalia that big might be the norm, he suspected Steve and some of the bigger tigers on campus looked the same, though that meant the norm for this size of guy was about the size of Samiel's forearm. He gulped. The wolf's hungry gaze softened a bit.
"You alright little brother?" No wolf had any right to speak Tenedevonian that smoothly. Samiel nodded, pulling his arms off the wall above the urinal trough and hugging himself tightly.
"I am older brother. Thank you."
"Anything for a brother, but I need to disagree. Look at your arms."
Samiel did so, turning them over to the odd feeling of grittiness on his arms. He snorted in disgust as he saw. He tried to convince himself that the oily mixture smeared along where he had rested above the trough was just dirt, but he knew it was a lie, and the odor of multiple large males' urine was quickly making it a very unbelievable lie.
"Stripe-Beast cleaners don't touch this place, and many of the larger male stripe-beasts mark it to taunt those that use it. I didn't realize you had put your arms on the wall until the lights returned."
Not even the wolf calling tigers a name so archaic and insulting Samiel's grampa would have blanched was able salvage Samiel's mood. He gave a furious bellow and clenched his fists. The oily, urine-reeking mixture was all over his arms, and when he had hugged himself he had successfully worked the oily musk into the fur of his chest. Thank the Sun that he hadn't been wearing a shirt of Steve's! The wolf stood awkwardly, arms half-outstretched as if to console, but unwilling to cross the bridge to touc stranger. When Samiel finally lowered his hands, huffing in impotent fury, the wolf scratched the back of his own head sheepishly, and spoke Raoan, the tiger's local language.
"Um...I was of the showering already. Come with me?"
Samiel looked down and lowered his ears.
"I don't even have a towel."
"Be taking mine. I do not need it."
Samiel smiled. The wolf was pretty cute, even if he did mangle the language. It'd be rude to turn him down, he had been so helpful and caring about him, just like Steve. His mind stalled for a bit as he imagined Steve and this new lupine rescuer sandwiching him, his lithe cervine form smashed between two huge, muscled males, perhaps spitroasted between them as Steve forcefully mounted him like a doe and he choked around the equally-huge manhood of the wolf...he didn't realize anything was wrong until he noticed the wolf eyeing him curiously.
"Oh, thank you, I really appreciate that!" He turned around to find the showers and start disrobing so the wolf couldn't see his blush.
The showers were behind the urinals, a long semi-communal row, the line that turned the bathroom from a sideways "F" to a sideways "E". Unlike the urinals, these looked to have been kept in slightly better condition, if only because of the water itself. Along one side there were heavily-supported wooden benches that Samiel suspected doubled as shelves for stuff, confirmed as the wolf placed the towel down and unpacked the soap contained therein. Samiel followed suit, removing his kilt and putting it nearby. Now it was his turn to be stared at.
He didn't mind at all, he was proud of his body, even if his rack was just a few points. He was a smaller buck, willowy and ruddy, lacking the mass and musculature of a bigger deer, and replacing it with a toned whipcord of a build, supple until one tried to break it. His coloration was quite pronounced, his neck ruff and shoulders brick-red, shading to ochre down his flanks, his underside a soft layering of rust-on-russet-on-cream that a lover could spend hours delineating. His neck and chest ruffs were small, but very pronounced given the contrast between the coppery ruff and the dusty white of his belly below, brightening to a crisp white on his rump and tail. His own sheath, half-swollen from his fantasies, still couldn't compete against a guy twice his size, but he certainly held his own among normal-sized bucks. His nuts and sheath were the same warm off-white as his belly, a soft halo of ruddy pubic fur outlining them. He turned around to face the wolf, grinning and expecting him to blush away. The wolf just licked his chops and smiled. Samiel blushed and flattened his ears: wolf wins round.
"Can we wash now?" He was already moving to turn on the water, looking back at Samiel with a smile.
Samiel nodded, stepping arms-first into the pleasantly-hot water as it rinsed a goodly amount off right there. The wolf applied stripes of some shampoo down each forearm, and Samiel sniffed it as he began sudsing them together, noting the smoky odors of spices and smoke that wolves preferred for perfumes. The wolf was busily undoing his braid as he grinned.
"Need help?" While his tone and face were mild, his eagerly lashing tail betrayed any claim of neutrality on the matter. Samiel allowed himself to smile, his own tail flicking up and down a bit nervously at the thought of those heavy paws on his body.
"Yes please." He turned to brace himself against the half-wall separating each shower. He thought they had been smaller, but it had just been the wolf looming over them and making them seem smaller. He flicked his tail nervously at the feeling of a huge, muscled predator reaching out to rub his exposed flanks, simultaneously excited and scared from the primal feelings it evoked, though his sheath just felt like it swelled more at the fear. He decided to try some small talk.
"How'd your Tenedevonian get so good? And no offense, but why is your Raoan so bad? Given the campus I'd think it'd be the opposite." He nearly flinched as the meaty paws descended on his back, as hot and strong as he had imagined. They began sudsing more of the smoky soap in a slow massage about his shoulders, spreading it around and downwards. Samiel lifted his nose and scented the air, something slightly off, though he couldn't place it.
"My father taught me. I know some languages: Tenedevonian, Karran, Ryoshan...and then I come to a Raoan college. My Raoan is not very good yet, I know more than I can speak, so I do classes...slowly. I try to speak it when I can, to get better." Samiel shivered as he felt the powerful, clawed hands encircle his chest, the whole of that predatory bulk moving in closer as it scrubbed the grimy piss-stink from his chest. One paw absently brushed a nipple and Samiel felt it stiffen eagerly, his back arching a bit as the wolf toyed with him. "Also, when I...become excited, it gets hard to speak Raoan." Even over the hot water, Samiel felt the hot breath in his ear and squeaked gently.
"Are...are you having trouble speaking it?" Those powerful paws worked down, rubbing powerfully against his taut belly and circling claws gently about his navel. Samiel moaned softly as sharp teeth gently gripped his ear, sending a thrill up spine and cock simultaneously.
"Just a bit, little deer." The wolf snarled softly from around his grip, reaching further down to begin scrubbing Samiel's inner thighs, moving towards his package. The ruddy little buck grunted softly in desire even as he pushed the paws away from his rapidly unfolding erection.
"You've g-gotten the stink off..." he scented the air, moaning softly as he turned around. "I should wash you now." He stared at the erection bobbing in front of his face. It was bigger than he had judged from sheath size, shinily black, and shaped differently than his, thicker with a knot at the bottom. The entire apparatus throbbed slowly with animal desire. The wolf said nothing, handing him the shampoo bottle and placing his hands behind his head. Samiel sniffed and realized the odor getting him riled up was the sweaty aroma of a powerful, healthy adult male predator. His knees quaked a little in desire.
There was no way he could get the arms, and maybe on his tiptoes could get the big beast's armpits, so he settled for scrubbing the heavily-muscled chest, feeling a little guilty for washing off the odor exciting him so, like throwing away a plate of his favorite food. Still, unlike Samiel the wolf really had intended to shower and so the limber buck kept up his bargain.
At least until his chest bumped into the erection. He looked down, the imposing package aimed upwards and outwards, bobbing up and down slightly with the wolf's happy panting. Samiel gazed up at the magnificent brute towering over him, eyes shut, as ignorantly happy for the chest- and belly-rubs as others might be from sex, and decided to give in to what both he and the wolf clearly wanted. He bent down, and extended his thick cervine tongue on a long, smooth lick of the wolfcock before him. He and the wolf both moaned in pleasure, the dark meat before him pulsing and dumping a slimy dollop of pre over his muzzle. Samiel mirrored the wolf, licking his own chops, lupine pre saltier and slightly spicy, its slick richness filling his mouth. He flattened his ears and snorted softly, opening his mouth wide and slowly taking in the happily snarling wolf's length. This earned him a happy groan and a steady grip on his antler, slowly pulling him deeper as his jaws stretched to accommodate the girthy meat before him.
He needed the help, he realized. He was used to deer dick, which on guys like Jasper and Steve was just as big, but less thick and longer. His gag reflex had long ago been trained into oblivion, but he'd never had to open his mouth so wide before. He half-kneeled to get into a better position, the wolf snarling softly in pleasure as he tugged Samiel inexorably onto his cock. After a while all Samiel could do was keep his jaw relaxed, and depend on the gripped antler and the copious salt-sweet pre to give him any forward progress. It was actually a relief to feel the tip pressing insistently against the back of his throat and he eagerly gulped at it, letting it bulge out his throat a little as the wolf groaned, gripping the other antler and pushing in harder.
Samiel softly grunted as the wolf leered down at him proudly, his discomfort warring with his eager drooling over the thick plug of meat stretching his jaw. The wolf's pre was filling his mouth alongside his salivation, and he felt it drip from his mouth, his lips unable to make a good seal. He ground his tongue against the underside, lashing it wildly and feeling the wolf shake and twitch, woofing happy words in some language. Gingerly, he began bobbing upon it, stretching himself to work down the final few inches, the grip on his antlers lazy and relaxed, letting him take the lead. He lifted his hands to begin stroking the muscled inner thighs, the heat palpable through the wet fur intense enough that Samiel felt himself itch slightly with sweat. With a slightly pained huff he worked the last inch down his gullet, and was rewarding by burying his nose in the hot, musky pubes surrounding the sheathtip. He felt his antlers tug forward a little farther as the wolf above him snarled in lust, pushing forward lewdly.
"You have a nice mouth. Practice a lot?"
Samiel nodded demurely. Jasper was nowhere near this big, but he had been rough and demanding. Plus, if he could take this wolf, he could take Steve, and that thought set his cervine erection aching with excitement. He was so lost in the fantasy of reliving this experience with Steve added in that he missed what the wolf was talking about. Something about trying for more. He cupped the huge, darkly-furred balls in both his hands fondly, a nut per hand, snorting happily over the package, his exhalation turning into a soft squeal of surprise as the hands on his antlers turned to iron and he felt the black wolfhood he had been gulping at slide most of the way out, the wolf's strength and pre coordinating to empty the small buck in a heartbeat.
Within a second heartbeat the slimy wolfhood had filled his mouth again and Samiel groaned, surprisingly capable of taking it. His eyes widened as he felt the whole stiff package work into his mouth and back down his throat before he could react, a hard gulp spasming around the rod of flesh and making the wolf snarl in pleasure. He happily began plowing Samiel's mouth, and Samiel looked up at the predatory, commanding snarl plastered on the lupine face above him.
Inexplicably, it aroused him all the more. This was the best of both worlds, all the cruelty and control of Jasper with none of the broken promises or hearts. This wolf was using him as roughly as Jasper did, and all Samiel could think about was the fact that he could stop at any time and go cuddle up with Steve. This wolf was using him like Jasper used him, and Samiel did love that. Jasper had been right all along, Samiel needed a big, strong male in control.
And damn these guys seemed like a better choice than Jasper.
Samiel threw himself into the wolf's abuse eagerly, keeping his jaws relaxed as his head was tugged to just the right position to satisfy. He curled his tongue around the meat pounding into his mouth, rubbing furiously to earn rough snorts and barks of pleasure, his own erection aching at the excitement and lust he felt. His hands encircled the powerfully muscled legs of the beast above him, gripping the firm ass for stabilization as his muzzle jerked about with its reaming, each withdrawal drooling another messy load of pre into his mouth, smoky and bitter and primal, the odor of a predator making his heart race. When he could, he lapped eagerly at the veiny meat, eyes shut in pleasure as the speed increased.
Samiel was used to deer dick, and so he was quite surprised when the wolf above him orgasmed with almost no warning, the only signs at all being his hefty balls drawing up as the low snarl grew louder and rougher, and there suddenly being several more, extra-thick inches of wolfcock bumping against his muzzle. He gasped in fright at the thought the wolf would demand he take the fresh meat in also, but as rough as the wolf was, he was sane, and Jasper was relieved to see the knotty bulge not even impact his face anymore. Then the wolf came.
The short relief at avoiding extra cock was ended by the geyser of gooey, boiling wolfspunk exploding down his throat as the cock's owner howled above him. Samiel tried to gasp and struggle, but with the antlers grabbed tight all he could do was grind his face against the bulge and thank the Sun that the cock was past his airhole and he needn't worry about choking. His throat, already bulging with cock, pulsed slowly in time with the waves of the wolf's orgasm, and as the wolf died down he felt the thick meat, not even half-flaccid, sliding back up, trailing the stringy seed.
Samiel got two mouthfuls of the bitter, salty cream, the first enough to swell his cheeks wide with the wolf's load, and the second enough to make him splutter and let half of it run down his chest, the hot water swiftly rinsing it away. The wolf and deer eyed each other, both panting, one throbbing painfully and the other throbbing contentedly. One couldn't speak, the other didn't know what to say. It was Samiel's dick and the wolf's mouth that worked first.
"Here, I owe you."
Samiel moaned gently as powerful hands lifted him up and laid him astride the wolf's half-flaccid cock, the black meat perking up as Samiel's inner thighs touched it. With one arm gripping him tight against the broad chest, Samiel grunted as he felt a hand stroke his red, achingly erect length, his balls bifurcating around the dark lupine cock he was on. Slowly, the free paw grabbed Samiel's cock and the wolf's own dark erection, squeezing them together, and begin slowly jacking them both.
It didn't take long at all, Samiel writhing and moaning in the tight grip as he frotted himself slimy against the already-refreshed wolfhood. With as little warning as Samiel had been given earlier, the small buck stiffened and moaned, most of his semen arcing over to hit the half-wall in front of them, and the rest pooling hotly onto the lupine erection he was grinding against. Samiel hid his face in the crook of the predator's arm, lost in release and nuzzling the hot flesh that was responsible for his orgasm.
Samiel's cock and his body descended at about equal speeds, both resting against the side of the wolf, who resumed washing himself, only his erection showing his state of mind as they touched in silence. Samiel smiled, stroking the black meat playfully as he ground his own returning erection against the hot, wet thigh of his lupine partner.
"I never did catch your name, did I?"
The wolf grunted, turning his back to Samiel with frightening speed.
"His name is Kits." Steven was standing, arms crossed with a fierce glare on both of them. Kits was none too pleased either, eyes narrowed and tail flat. "And he's a treacherous, backbiting asshole who's only after you to hurt me."
Samiel awkwardly stepped slightly aside from Kits, looking up at the big wolf accusingly. Kits looked down at him, unblinking.
"Is this true?" Samiel pressed. Kits shook his head mutely, baring his teeth in frustration as he tried to defend himself.
"No, I like you. Why steal you? I know not of his claim." Kits jerked a thumb back at the snorting, sweat-spiked stag trying to ignite his nemesis through will alone.
"He's playing dumb, Samiel. He speaks like that to gain sympathy. You should hear him in the locker room!" Samiel was close enough to hear the squeak of tooth on tooth as Kits grit his teeth, conflicted over whether this entire evening had been an opportunistic ruse to cleave him and Steven, or an awkward coincidence. Kits had seemed too nice to have had ulterior motives, and Steve had never even been mentioned.
But Kits was a wolf.
Samiel walked over to Steve, ears flat and eyes upturned apologetically. Steve grunted, satisfied, never taking his eyes off Kits.
"Sunforsaken butt-sniffer. You try and take everything, don't you? Talesia, Siohrr, Waskei, you tossed dirt to Rohein for the newspaper, talked Coach into changing the starting lineup, and tried to take Samiel from me! Anything you can't have, you defile!" Samiel backed up, surprised by the stag's venom.
"Whoa, Steve, it's okay. I'm not...defiled. You're getting way more upset than you have to be."
Steve was snorting and pawing the tile, wild-eyed and panting, not reacting to anything but the target of his ire. Kits stood in the hot water, looking grimly at a guy who had the motive and means to play cat's-cradle with his intestines. Well, grimly and happily both. He wanted this fight too. Samiel snapped.
"That's it! Both of you, stop it!" He swung a punch into Steve's tricep, his inexperience and small size meaning it wouldn't even bruise, but it caused Steve to snap over and look dumbly at the other deer in the room.
"Steve, I believed you at first, but there's no way you're being reasonable. I think you both need to calm down! And making Kits defend himself in Raoan is stupid, he's been stumbling over it all night, and he speaks our language! Why aren't you taking advantage of that? Sun above, you were complaining earlier tonight that you only hear Tenedevonian at the Temple!" Samiel had had it, and was quite happy to let it be known. Kits smiled at his sour-faced nemesis, savoring him getting a dressing-down. Samiel turned, snorting and wild-eyed to match Steve at his worst.
"And you! I don't think tonight was intentional, but I can tell you've been working to aggravate him! Stop that! Why are you fighting? You have so much in common! You're literally on the same team! You should be working together! Working out together! Sharing class notes!" Samiel nearly shouted "Sharing me!" at the top of his lungs, but he gasped inwards, mortified, and when he had finally reassured himself that he hadn't said it, the fire had gone out of his recriminations. He turned to Steve, looking up at the big buck respectfully, ears laying flat.
"Steve, I really like you. You rescued me when no one else would. You're strong, brave, kind, and you're a leader I want to follow. Jasper said I needed a real man to keep me in place, and...he was right. I do need that, but I need it on my own terms, something that I give, not something others take. I gave it to Kits tonight, and I'm not going to ask for it back. Instead...I'd rather give it to you, too."
Steve bashfully flicked an ear, looking down past Samiel to the tile.
"You know, when I was up against Jasper, he said you were a little whore, that you'd sleep with the first guy you'd see. I made a pretty speech about how you were your own buck, no matter how we played at owning you, and it was your right to do so. He was right, you are a little whore...and I'm glad I was being honest when I said that was your right. You sleeping with that one-" he jerked his chin at the wolf, who had returned to washing himself while the couple talked; "-sure makes me unhappy, but I'll stand up to anyone who says you shouldn't...including me." He gently locked antlers, then lips with the small, ruddy buck. "Thank you."
Samiel blushed, white tail twitching a bit as he felt his sheath swell, taking his time in breaking either contact. After a while, he turned to the rinsing wolf.
"Big brother?" He spoke in Tenedevonian.
"Yes, little brother?" He didn't stop shampooing himself.
"Thank you for tonight. I would enjoy doing it again."
"As would I." His voice dropped until Samiel could barely hear him over the water. "Though I think you want us both together, don't you little brother?"
Samiel blushed, the heat of his embarrassment hotter than the steaming water nearby. Kits spoke up before Samiel could defend himself.
"You are always welcome in my room. I am one floor above Steve, directly atop. Come in at any hour."
Samiel nodded. "Thank you, big brother."
"Take the towel. I can shake off in the garden."
Samiel nodded again, walking over and grabbing something that felt like it would be more in place as a bed sheet than a towel, snuggled up to Steve, and the pair began walking out. Just before they turned the corner, Samiel made one of the few lupine hand-signals he knew, "Three-way", and stroking Steve's lower back, right above the big buck's flicking tail. Kits waved his hands in a complex reply Samiel had no clue over, and then they were alone.
The walk back through the garden as Samiel was gently toweled off by Steve was quiet. Samiel had enough questions to keep the big buck up all night, and had no intention of such cruelty. Steven was a bit more curious.
"Why did Kits sign 'That's not enough people'?"
Samiel shrugged, hiding his blush. "I don't know, I think he's hot, but he's a wolf. They're weird."
Steve nodded, sitting down in bed and removing his pants.
Samiel snuggled up against the muskily-sweaty buck, inhaling deep and shutting his eyes.
"Speaking of weird, when I got back, your clothes were pinning open the front door to the dorms. Didn't you take those off in here?"
Samiel grunted softly, feigning sleep. It had been a long night, and he refused to let it get longer.