**James & The Jock

Chapter IV**

Teamwork

James relished the winter; he loved the cold, the snow, the peace. He walked along the trail with his feet unshod, feeling the fresh fallen snow crunch between his cold toes. The weather had turned bitter a week after Halloween, snow arriving the end of the first week of November and building up steadily ever since. Ebonshadow was somewhere in Texas, busy going over the finances of some company he suspected was cooking the books, and so was too busy to do much more than text the occasional hug.

The young raccoon did not mind, he knew that Ebon's schedule was hectic. But what concerned him more was Erol, the athletic Gemsbok that had enraptured him with his kindness, love, and quite mind-blowing passion. Many of his sporting divisions were either in their state championship finals or busy scheduling their spring rotations, robbing them of much of their time together the pervious month, throwing their Friday night tutoring sessions into chaos. Due to the jock's hectic sporting schedules he was beginning to fall behind in his classes, a fact that was causing him no end of stress. As the semester's end neared, that only added to the stress. James wanted to help him, but he was limited to their hit-or-miss tutoring sessions which often segued into pleasant lovemaking trysts, due to the distance between their social status.

Erol could not risk acknowledging James, an unaffiliated scholarship student with limited funds, as so much as a friend, much less the Gemsbok's lover. To do so would create unrelenting derision for James, not only because Erol was a rich member of the DOG athletic frat, but thought of as the most straight eligible bachelor on campus. Even for the paragon of the sporting leagues being seen as gay would not go well socially.

And in college, social position was almost everything.

Standing at a bend in the path James gazed across the campus that sprawled out somewhat below him. The sun hand gone down hours before and the silver of the moon cast the campus in a pale, ghostly glow against the white snow. McMannon University wasn't the largest of campuses, but it took up a fair amount of the valley it nestled in. The city that supported it was kept well separate by a still-tick tract of forest, giving an illusion of academic isolation from the outside world. It reminded James of home at times, making him glad he had chosen to come here.

James was interrupted from his reverie by a shudder in the breast pocket of his red-and-black checkered logger's winter coat. That shudder was accompanied by a petulant sounding squeak; the default text message alert that came with his phone. He did not find any need in changing it. Fishing the cellular phone, a gift from Erol the previous month, and stroked the pad of his thumb across the matte black screen.

Text Message [From: Horns]

_ Help!_

James blinked at the unexpected page and rotated the phone to slide the keyboard out, quickly composing a reply.

_ [To: Horns]_

_ What's wrong?_

The reply came seconds later as he stood on the forest path staring at the glowing screen, oblivious of the snow spilling over his thickly furred toes.

Text Message [From: Horns]

_ Need help, can't finish assignment. Comp being a dick._

James chuffed, relieved that it was something so simple.

[To: Horns]

_ Where are you?_

Without waiting for the reply he knew would come quickly he turned and began trotting down the path back toward campus. If he was working on an assignment and the computer he was on did not want to cooperate meant that he was in a lab somewhere on the main campus, not in his frat house. The computer he had there positively blew James' mind away and Erol was its unequivocal master. The phone vibrated and chirped in his hands and he glanced at it without slowing his quick steps. He was not quite jogging, but moving far faster than a mere walk.

Text Message [From: Horns]

_ Drafting lab 7._

Which meant he was in the Wright building where they both had classes. That it was after eleven on a Tuesday evening, when their various assignments were always due on Wednesday, meant that he was having a very difficult time indeed. The Wright building would almost surely be all but vacant as even the janitorial staff usually finished by eight. Campus security would be the only others he would likely encounter, if they ducked in for warmth while walking their rounds on such a bitterly cold night.

[To: Horns]

_ Be there in ten. Don't kill the comp, K?_

Cutting off the path James struck a more direct route through the naked trees and bracken, paying no heed to the winter dry vines tugging at his careworn lumberman's coat or heavy woolen outer-leggings. He wore denim underneath those, and of course his dense winter pelt.

Text Message [From: Horns]

_ No promises. Been trying three hours, it just won't die! See you soon._

_ Thanks!_

While Erol was master of his own computer, the computers in the labs were used by dozens of students so there was no telling what was wrong with the one he was trying to use. James shrugged that off, he knew old computers. Heck, he and his family knew old pretty much anything, as buying things new was far too often beyond their financial means. Not that he had ever felt any lack simply due to being a shade from poor, living freely and well in the back woods, but after living among trust fund babies he felt its lack all the more keenly. Cutting across a snow whitened soccer field he climbed the opposite hill that backed the Butler musical studies building. From there it was only two more buildings before he arrived at Wright near the central quad.

Circling around to the front door he found the lobby dark but for security lighting. At least the door was unlocked. Like most of the buildings on campus, the Wright building was kept open at all hours to accommodate students cramming for late, or just late-night, assignments, though they naturally cut the lighting to a minimum. Any of the labs themselves would use a swipe-card system to keep out unauthorized visitors, but since that was keyed to his student card, it wouldn't be a problem. James cut left after wiping his feet off on the pads at the door. Lab seven was on the third floor, almost at the far end of the building, and James made his way there in record time.

Record time, considering he was not having to navigate his way during peak class hours. Most of the classrooms were dark, not even lit by the glow of computer displays. Through each of the other lab windows glowed a forest of LED lights like the night-eyes of alert nocturnal animals, watching all who passed. At the end of the hall light spilled out of one window to cast a rectangle of yellow on the floor. James gave a swipe of his card and pushed open the door, quietly sliding in.

He saw Erol after circling around a huge diorama of a bridge designed by a student the previous year that was featured in a competition for some Midwestern city's river crossing. The Gemsbok was seated in front of a very large LCD display, flanked by towering storage arrays, muttering angrily at the drafting mainframe. There were only five such computers in the architectural building, one in each lab, and were well known for being cantankerous. Despite the modern oversized LCD it was nearly a decade old, and showing the irritability of such old age. On the screen was Erol's assignment; a structural failure analysis of a hotel's parking garage.

James winced inwardly; he'd done that assignment already, during his second semester the previous year. Finding the failures and their cause was an utter nightmare mostly because they were so screamingly obvious that most students discounted their first impressions as incorrect. Padding quietly across the empty lab on his naked pawpads he watched Erol raise one hand and very delicately, but with frustrated wontedness, poke a key. A status window popped up in the center of the display, progress bar slowly crawling until it reached about forty percent, then abruptly failed.

"Bitch." Erol snorted, flipping his middle finger irritably at the screen before reaching for his phone and checking it again. James' last message was on the screen. "C'mon J, where are you?" he sighed, then yawned. Smiling, the raccoon stepped up behind Erol's chair and rested his hands upon the broad, muscular shoulders covered in the soft plushness of an overpriced hand-knit sweater.

"Right here, Erol." He churred softly. Erol, wrung tense by whatever failure the computer was throwing at him, jerked at the unexpected touch, almost giving the raccoon behind him a poke with his silver-capped, short cropped horns. He turned his head and smiled, letting out a whickering sigh that sounded all-too-equine.

"Damn, J." He chuckled throatily and swivelled the chair around to give the much smaller raccoon a crushing hug. "You scared the shit out of me."

Churring humorously James returned the hug, working his hands up and down Erol's broad, solid back. "Sorry. I was just feeling jealous." He leaned in to rub his bewhiskered nose against the gemsbok's own. Even in the chair Erol was almost as tall as he was. Tall scalloped ears pricked forward in surprise and Erol's gentle brown eyes widened.

"Huh? Jealous?" he asked, leaning back in surprise.

"Mmmhmm." James chided as he pecked that broad nose with a kiss, "I heard you call someone a bitch, and, well," he grinned widely at the gemsbok's confusion, "I thought I was your bitch."

With a snort of laughter Erol leaned back and gave him a gentle shove in the center of James' chest. "Huh, devil you might be, but bitch you are not." He chuckled warmly and waved an arm back toward the computer. "Took me six hours just to compile that gods be damned assignment, alone since Retann had to run home for the next week or so. Now it won't print."

While Erol turned the chair back and slid it back in front of the computer James stepped up beside him. "Retann? Your lab partner? What happened to her?"

"Death in the family; grandfather I think. With travel, funeral, and all she won't be back until sometime during exams. So I was left with this half done and too busy with the athletic department and getting hammered by midterm and final assignments to really get onto it." Stretching his jaw wide with a deep yawn, Erol rubbed his hand up and over his long face. "Between this, 315, and an essay I had to finish for my English elective, I've been up almost forty hours straight."

"Let me guess; it's due tomorrow. At least you got it finished." James scanned the chaos of blueprints and three dimensional stress analysis readings to see if there were any flaws. A couple, mere annotation errors, stood out. He waved his paw over them, "A couple of minor edits and you'll be done. Want me to review it for you?" He shrugged out of his heavy coat and draped it over a nearby chair.

"James, it's not your assignment. All I need to do is get it printed." Erol patted his leg gently, then turned and looked up at him. "Heck, you're not even in this course."

With a smile James slid over and settled on Erol's thigh, wending his tail around his lower back and draping an arm across the gemsbok's broad, strong shoulder. "Of course not, I did this last year, second semester, under Brahnski; on my own."

"This is a third year course. How'd you manage that, James?"

"Well, I figured being a po' ol' scholarship student 'n all," he drawled in a false backwoods hick accent, "that I'd try and cram as much as I could into each year so I could finish the degree earlier and not have to worry as much about having to pay off the later years." He let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Since we engineers have to take six credits a semester as opposed to the usual five, it turned out to be a stteeuupppid idea. The first year wasn't too bad, as I stacked it with bird-course electives, but I quickly found out in second year that with all the required engineering courses, that that kind of workload will destroy you. At least with the jump on third-year material, it made getting a position as tutor much easier." He concluded, smiling gladly over at Erol. "Let's review?"

And so they did, though it only took a brief half hour. Before she had been forced to leave school Retann and Erol had crunched through the lion's share of the work. Erol had refined and finished it with commendably few errors. Once James helped Erol work out a few minor details and one laughable flaw concerning a single length of reinforced cement, they saved the written report and sent the revised blueprints to the plotter to be printed.

That, of course, failed miserably. "See!?" Erol groaned as the print spool progress reached forty percent and abruptly died. James chuffed and shrugged.

"Oh, lord of the overpriced computer, how little you know." James quipped merrily as he slid off Erol's leg and pushed him back from the desk. Dropping to his knees he ducked under the desk, tail pluming in the air behind him as he rummaged underneath it. Under the desk, behind the operational end of the machine, it was a hodgepodge of zip-tied cables that would give an experienced electrician pause. James had to root around to find out what cables were what. Erol watched curiously at first, then as the minutes passed his eyes shifted away from James' work to somewhat closer bits of the raccoon.

Playfully he reached out and caught the raccoon's tail in one hand and stroked it. James paused briefly and then grinned back at him from beneath the desk before returning his attention to the spaghetti factory tangle of cables. Leaning forward in the chair Erol's thick fingers played lightly down the length of the raccoon's lush tail, gently rubbing about the root just where he knew James enjoyed the most. "Hey, hey, I'm working here!" James argued from beneath the desk. His tail lifted of its own accord anyway and Erol lipped playfully at the soft warmth of it, envious as always. He chortled at the raccoon's exhortations and continue to rub the root of his tail, then shifted his hands to teasingly rub the young engineering student's rump.

"You are." The gemsbok commented blandly, drawing his hands slowly down the back of James' heavy woolen outer leggings. Through them, the denim, and the raccoon's incredibly lush winter coat it was difficult to define the legs within. "And a nice view it is, your work."

James grunted and twisted about adroitly under the desk to tinker with a couple of cables. "Uhph, that's my tail, not my work." He groused in good humor.

"Split the difference then?" Erol asked cleverly with a nod and a grin, then brought one hand up between James' legs and gave his heavily clothed crotch a fondle, "I could always work your tail." James chirruped in surprise, his tail twitching up to swat the gemsbok's broad muzzle. Erol laughed and drew his hand away. "Though it'd look a damn shade better without all these clothes."

"I bet." James puffed through his whiskers. He finally found the cord he was looking for and pulled it out of the plug. "Printer powered off?" he asked and glanced back while he rested on his elbows and knees to see if his efforts would prove fruitful.

"It's off," Erol replied, sparing the bedeviled machine a quick glance. With one hand he continued to tease the raccoon's clad rump, vaguely curious what James was up to while he idly toyed with the simple, large button above James' tailroot. It popped loose all too easily. James could only roll his eyes at the buck's antics and continue to swat at his muzzle with his tailtip.

Giving the printer a good thirty seconds without power, then adding another thirty and a few good shivers as Erol's fingers caressed the very underside of his tail, James plugged the ancient beast back in. Several sharp beeps from above the desk reached his pricked-up ears. "Right, try it now."

Erol reluctantly pulled away from his play and hit the buttons. "It's going... it's going... looks like you saved the day, my boy!" Erol crowed triumphantly. "Where did you learn that trick?"

"One of the TA's showed me last year," James replied as he worked himself out of the tangle of wires.

Above him, Erol frowned and let out a tired, tortured groan, slumping back in his chair. "Oh my freaking gods."

Twisting about under the desk James looked up awkwardly from beneath the desk, "What?" He chuffed and then shifted his glance and blinked. Slowly a smile drew across his muzzle, his ears pricking up, as he stared at the buck's crotch a few inches away.

"This thing's been fucked all day; there are five projects to print!"

Without tearing his gaze away from Erol's crotch James leaned forward slightly, "Five?" he asked in feigned surprise. He didn't care how many there were to print, he had other ideas.

"Yeah, and mine is the las - awwfuck!" Erol yelped as he felt the raccoon's muzzle drive into his groin and the pointed prick of his surprisingly sharp canines catch his sheath through the thick material of his slacks. It was far from an uncomfortable bite, but it was certainly surprising. He grasped the desk and looked down to see James grinning up at him mischievously, his muzzle locked onto the crotch of the gemsbok's pants, bared white teeth gleaming. "You're a damn tease, J." He snorted.

Releasing Erol's sheath James chirruped a laugh and replaced the pinch of his muzzle with a warm rub of his nimble hands. The button and zipper of Erol's pants were no contest under his dexterous touch and within moments the athlete's sheath stood exposed from the open fly of his slacks. James shoved his shirt out of the way and pushed his muzzle back into Erol's groin, snuffling noisily as he took in the exotic spiciness of his musk. "Who says I'm teasing." He churred coyly, teasing the tip of his narrow tongue up the short, silky smooth fur of Erol's sheath to the heavier tuft at its tip.

Erol's ears twitched madly and he looked around in self conscious suspicion of exposure, "Mmmh, damn, J, that's nice." One large hand gently ruffled between James' ears while the raccoon dipped his head to the nadir of Erol's fly and nuzzled his sheath slowly, eyes half closed in coquettish pleasure. Tilting his head slightly he smiled up with one dark brown eye, nibbling lightly from the base of that heavy velvet sheath to its tip once more.

"Could be even more nice, I think." Teasing the tuft of longer hair James circled the tip, tasting the sharper, subtly bitter musk of the buck's natural sheath musk. Erol could only sigh happily and nod, "Mmmhhh, that it could. Wait there a second." Pushing back he stood and trotted across the classroom toward the door. A moment later the room was plunged into darkness but for the glow of the drafting computer's huge display. Returning, Erol sank back down into the chair and smiled at the silver striped shadow hidden under the desk.

"Where were we?" He asked playfully as he stroked one of the raccoon's thick cheekruffs. With a smile James answered his question by leaning forward, his hands coming to rest on Erol's wide spread knees, and nosed at the tip of his sheath again, teasing the exposed hint of pink that was beginning to peek from within.

"Right here?" James churred softly as he nosed through the tuft at his sheath tip, his lips lightly wrapping about it, and dropped his head to slip an inch of Erol's tapered tip into his muzzle. The larger student let out a deep, rolling groan at the warmer sensation of his lover's muzzle accepting him directly from his sheath. Deftly the raccoon's narrow tongue flitted and darted about his tip and he slid his hands upward, catching at the waist of the buck's pants to pull at them. Shifting in his chair, his length pressing deeper and drawing back in James' steady muzzle as he did, Erol helped him draw the warm, thick material downward.

Shifting forward on his knees James rose up a little further as Erol's arousal grew, his long shaft thickening rapidly in the raccoon's muzzle. He churred happily, always delighted by that feel of arousal growing for him, in his muzzle, the subtle bitterness of the Jock's sheath muted by the musky taste of his flesh. There was a soft, whispering thump beside him as the buck's sweater joined his slacks on the floor. A moment later Erol's hands settled upon his shoulder's and gently stroked them as more and more of the buck's flesh slipped free of its bodily confines. There was no way for James to take the whole of it in his muzzle, but Erol never pressed the issue. He fondly recalled how much James was able to take of him on the hillside a few weeks before. That, itself, only furthered his own arousal as he hissed and groaned.

He wanted a chance to do it again, but his chaotic schedule had not afforded him the opportunity to get James alone in private long enough for them to re-visit that delightful exchange. He was satisfied beyond words, though, to have the handsome young raccoon's muzzle favoring him with its delightful, amazingly skillful, warmth. He felt his body temperature rising in time with his arousal and watched his young lover, his fellow paramour deep in the closet of their own shared homosexuality, take inch after inch of his thickening length.

"Don't choke yourself, love." He whikkered softly, half laughing as James plunged his muzzle down surprisingly far. He felt the sudden twitching contraction of the raccoon's throat against his flared tip slightly before James backed off completely with a gasp to grin up at him.

"Mmmhh, but there's so much to enjoy." He churred, licking his whiskers while he held the buck's emergent erection with his hands. His thumbs lightly rubbed along the underside in a very unique manner that James alone had ever discovered pleased the muscularly toned buck. Lowering his muzzle James dipped his tapered nose down to nuzzle at Erol's large balls, rolling them lightly across its bridge a few moments as James savored his musk again. Lightly his tongue stroked each, for they were far too large for him to take into his muzzle, caressing them with its delicate touch. His whiskers followed, lightly brushing their round contours as he slid his muzzle up one side of their weighty mass and then the other. All the while his hands slowly stroked up and down Erol's length, coaxing it fully out of his sheath before he rose up on his knees again to draw his tongue firmly but slowly upward from its root to the tip once more.

"I'd hate to explain how a lovely raccoon choked to death under the desk, handsome." Erol smiled, hissing a breath through his nose as James took his tip once more into the narrow confines of his muzzle. His tongue found all of those tender spots with deft alacrity, coaxing soft moans and deep sighs from the shuddering buck. Just when Erol felt that he could not take any more of James' skillful caresses the raccoon would shift his attention, kissing his way back down to the root of Erol's girth and nuzzling his tense orbs afresh. For long minutes James rose and fell, taking more than a full handspan of Erol's length into his muzzle to torture it with his facile tongue and then dropping down to his orbs again. Erol whined, feeling his seed churning and rushing to fulfill its needy release, but time and time again James denied that release with the skill of a master cocksucker.

At that point the printer, apparently feeling neglected during all of this, rudely demanded their attention with a series of sharp, irritating beeps.

"Plotter's out of paper." James commented laconically as his tongue swirled once more about Erol's flared tip, suckling lightly at a dollop of clear preseminal fluid pooling upon it. Erol blinked, ears twitching, and the raccoon had to repeat himself, giggling, before Erol even understood what he was saying. "If you want your assignment done for old one-eye in the morning you need to replace the roll." James slipped Erol into his muzzle again and the buck almost lost what that meant in the sudden flash of intense pleasure.

Clutching at James' shoulders spastically he pushed the raccoon back with shuddering urgency and lurched the chair back so violently it toppled over. Casting about, wholly unable to grasp the geography of the room through his haze of wordless arousal and the lack of overhead lights, he staggered, his cock waving in the air, while James laughed madly under the desk. "Over there, big boy." The raccoon pointed. Erol lurched around to stare at the huge plotting table, eyes refusing to focus for a few seconds, and lunged toward it. "Damn... damn machine." He snorted, somewhere between laughter and weeping as he pleasure was interrupted.

He fetched up against it, barely shifting his hips before his erection slapped painfully against some sharp edge or another, and looked around manically. It took him several moments to locate the roller tray and another minute to figure out how to open it in the dark. Tearing the last bit of paper away he hastily rolled it onto the receiving roller and jerked that one out to drop it into a nearby rack. Keeping his hips well back, long tufted tail lashing back and forth in the agitation of his interrupted arousal, he hauled out an empty roll and fumbled it into the feed tray. Leaning against the machine he forced himself to breathe a couple of times before he made the complicated attempt to feed the fresh paper under the plotting arm and tape it to the empty roll.

Victorious at completing the task in a rutting high he slapped the lids back down and stabbed the paper feed button.

Nothing happened.

He stabbed it again, more firmly, as a light touch slid its way around his hips. At first he didn't understand what the touch was, his focus on getting the stupid plotter back online. A warm brush of fur against his naked rump scattered his thoughts, his tail reflexively tucking. The realization that James must have doffed his clothes before coming up behind him fled under the sensation of the raccoon's fingers. Gently that touch shifted from his hip, tracing slowly back to grasp his tail, rubbing just below its root and causing it to flex upward with a twitch. The other hand, James' hand, reached around and pressed a different button, the printer merrily whirring and clunking at the touch, the raccoon chuckling softly all the while. A playful wave toward the print button told him it was ready to resume.

Erol spastically stabbed the button and the plotting arm lurched to life. At that moment James' slight weight, in comparison to Erol's own taller bulk, shoved against his rump and pushed him forward. He grasped either end of the machine, momentarily at a loss as to how he should react, his thoughts scattered like so many autumn leaves in a gale. The light touch rubbing beneath the root of his tail was delightfully tantalizing; the last person back there was the ferret Dustin almost two years ago, and it was never like that. This was positively making him melt. When James' free hand reached around to take up his slowly flagging length he snorted a deep sigh and smiled broadly.

"You are such a damn tease." He snorted once more, his head bowed, chin to chest, rump thrust back against James' midriff. "And don't you dare stop, that feels marvelous."

"Does it?" James crooned from behind him, continuing to rub about the root of his tail, the fur at the back of his fingers ever so lightly caressing the tight anal ring. Slowly his other hand stroked up and down Erol's length, re-awakening the rigidity that had been lost during his battle with the plotter.

"Oh yes." Erol nodded against his own chest, staring down at the blinking LED lights on the plotter's activity panel. The machine whirred and growled, print heads turning random lines into a readable blueprint swiftly, quite oblivious to the arousal taking place above it. "Where did you learn that?"

"Ebon." James churred. Slowly his massaging fingertips shifted from Erol's tail to his tense anal ring, circling slowly, tracing it with his incredibly tactile fingers as if mapping it out in the dark by that touch alone. Erol's back arched as he groaned softly, pushing more firmly back against the raccoon behind him, then jerkily thrust forward as James' thumb teasingly caressed the underside of his flared cock tip.

"Did he?" Erol whikkered breathlessly, not sure which way his hips wanted to go; forward into the gentle coaxing of his cock or backward against the delightfully light touch against his asshole. "Remind me to get that wolf a bottle of wine." He laughed, then sighed, his cock twitching at an especially arousing touch of the fingers upon his length. "Fuck, make it a whole damned case." He felt James shift a little behind him, fur against his rump rather than the wool he had expected. Soft fur, warm and thick, upon a strong frame; underneath all of that fur James was well built owing to the exertions of his life rather than any athletic endeavors.

"I'll be sure to tell him you approve." James' voice churred throatily behind him, but lower. Erol almost looked back but froze at an altogether different touch under his uplifted tail; a tickle, feather light and enigmatic. It was not until he felt the warm caress of a breath upon his flesh did he realize that it was the touch of whiskers. James was under his tail!

Erol almost tucked his tail at that realization but the angular muzzle beneath it, those whiskers tantalizingly tickling his sensitive flesh, kept it fixed in its upraised flag. When he put his muzzle under James' tail, back on the hillside after their off-road ride, he had known what he was doing. This was new to James; new, and for some considered taboo even among other gays. "James," he whispered, suddenly unsure.

"Mmmh, shh." The raccoon admonished gently, his breath alternately cool and then warm as James' examining muzzle caressed the gemsbok's muscular rump. Erol shuddered and held still, the gentle hand continuing to stroke his erection though more toward its thick root. Swallowing he leaned his weight against the whirring plotter. The heavy machine's legs groaned alarmingly. The tickling touch of whiskers became a damp warmth, just beneath Erol's tail, from the very base of the root and upward a few inches, eliciting a delighted gasp from the buck. His cock jerked of its own accord at the inquisitive warmth. "Nice," James commented.

It was musky, James found, quite more so and differently so than the gemsbok's balls, but it was not as unpleasant as he would have expected. Raccoons had renal glands that could be quite startlingly unpleasant at certain times, he well knew, but there were no hints of such about Erol's rump. His natural spicy musk seemed more concentrated under his dark, black tailroot, but that only tantalized him to examine more; to taste. That was altogether different, but again not unpleasantly so. He could not easily put a name to the musky, earthy spiciness but he found himself taking another slow stroke with his tongue, and another, each one causing Erol to shudder with a restrained jerk.

He could only smile as each slow lick caused his lover to twitch and shudder. If it was such a simple thing he found, then could find no reason not to do it. The smell may have been stronger, but it was also more arousing in its way, and the taste was just as he might have expected; musky and exciting in an obscure way. Before he met Erol he never would have thought of putting his tongue under anyone's tail, much less what he was going to do next.

Erol's anal ring was a muscular bulge just beneath his tail, not a smooth depression as James' own was, and he found his licks slowly making their way closer of their own accord. It was as if he were merely following his tongue, not guiding it, so when his first lick circled that twitching ring of powerful muscles he simply went with it. The musky, pungent taste was all the more powerful, with a bouquet that defied easy definition. Again, while carnal beyond what he would have ever thought of himself doing, it was not unpleasant in the least. At that first slow caress Erol let out a deep, throaty groan. His legs shuddered, knees almost buckling, while the legs of the plotter squealed under the abuse.

Shifting his weight Erol moved away from the machine before it failed under his. James sat back on his hocks and smiled, waiting to see where Erol would stagger to. The buck only moved over to the window near the machine to lean against the deep, stout sill. "Damn, J." He gasped as he looked back over his shoulder, "Just... wow." Now better supported, the gemsbok spread his legs wide and hiked up his tail in an inviting manner. "Now, where were we, hon?" he asked warmly back over his shoulder with a broad grin, dark eyes gleaming in the diffuse light from beyond the window.

Grinning at the buck's shaky approbation James shifted over as well, smiling up at the buck's dark gaze for a moment even as he lowered his head toward Erol's rump again to nibble at the side of the thin, muscular tail.

Erol whikkered a throaty groan again and leaned forward to rest his brow against the winter cold glass, his breath leaving a fan of white fog on the glass. James nibbled along one side of the buck's tail, which twitched off toward the opposite side to expose the dark, glistening pucker of his strong anal ring again, but James was not done with his teasing nibbles. Leaning over he nosed under Erol's tail once more, nibbling the opposite side only to cause it to flag to the other side before James' attention shifted under it once more. Nosing upward against it he employed the sharp edges of his foreteeth along its underside once more, gently caressing the flesh while the aroused musk of the buck, his buck, intensified considerably.

Slowly he let his playful teasing drift back down to that musky, hot ring of naked flesh once more, kissing first, and then tracing it with his tongue. He circled it first, then drew the width of his tongue across it in a slow, firm lick, teasing the dimpled center with the tip of his tongue as he did. Erol quaked and shuddered, moaning as he clutched the sill of the window desperately. The thick pane of tinted glass fogged up around his head as he panted heavily against it.

Erol's legs failed him, despite all of their indefatigable stamina, and he slowly sank to his knees, drawing James' head down as he did. "You're killing me, love, just... just killing me." Erol whined, at his wits end, and very nearly at the end of his own ability to withstand that lovely teasing before he made a complete mess of the floor and wall in front of him. James chortled softly and gave his twitching ring one last kiss.

Slowly he shifted closer, reaching around Erol's waist to hug him tightly, the soft fur of his stomach pressing against the buck's twitching rump. James felt his own erection resting against the back of Erol's thigh and smiled, but he was also quaking of his own. This path was, as the first visit to Erol's flat at the top of the DOG frat house, entirely new to him. The excitement was almost more powerful than his own arousal. Sweeping his tail around he raked his fingers through it about half way along its length, catching the slim package he had nested in it while Erol was struggling with the plotter and pulled it from the deep fur. Still leaning against Erol's rump he reached around with his free hand and traced his fingertips upward along the buck's throbbing length, causing it to twitch and slap noisily against Erol's muscular abs. That, too, caused him to smile as he caught a corner of the condom wrapper between his teeth and tore it open.

While he gripped and stroked Erol's erection he fumbled the condom on, carefully sliding it down his own length as he stood. With the buck on his knees his solid rump was only slightly below James' hips when he stood. The condom was pre-lubricated, he only hoped it would be sufficient with the addition of his saliva. Shifting his hips he let his erection slide downward along one side of Erol's tail. "Horns, love," he suddenly found he could say no more, his chest abruptly seizing and stealing his words away. He could only bow his head forward and rest it between the buck's shoulder blades.

"Gods, please." Erol snorted heavily as he reached back with one hand to trace James' own erection much as the raccoon's fingers caressed his own. "Please, J, yes." Guided by the buck's urgent, gentle, shaking hand James felt his tip rub against the gemsbok's powerful ring. Raising his head he found Erol looking back over his shoulder, one arm bent across the sill of the window. His dark eyes were wide and his expression needy. A smile twitched at the corners of his muzzle at the warm, gentle feel of the raccoon sliding his slender length into the cleft of his muscular rump.

Biting his lower lip, unable to find words, James shuddered and nodded. This was it, he thought, the last step from his old sexual identity and the new one he found he enjoyed far more. With a smile he held Erol's limpid gaze as he slowly leaned his hips forward against the tight resistance of the buck's ass. At first it twitched and denied the pressure of James' flared tip but almost immediately that resistance melted away. His tip eased inward, the pressure of even Erol's relaxed ring almost too much to surmount, but his flared tip slipped beyond that hot caress. James' muzzle dropped open in profound surprise from the intense rush of pleasure capturing the first few inches of his length. Erol's mouth dropped open similarly and he grunted softly with his own pleasure. The buck's tall, scalloped ears folded back and he dropped his bow to the cool glass in front of him. The condom provided nothing in the way of limiting the unbelievable sensation of that tight heat accepting him.

Erol's ass and a girl's vagina were as different as night and day, despite what James had ever heard in the past. It relaxed and grasped, pulled and pushed against him in ways he had never felt before. Even as he sank slowly inward that comparison was blown out of his mind, as with any other thought that attempted to cohere within his brain. One hand clutched at Erol's erection while the other dug at his hips as the buck pressed back, his head dropping forward again to rest against the windows, steel tipped horns skirling across the glass as Erol panted heavily.

James did not pull back, his weight slowly pressing forward into the yielding pressure of Erol's intense heat. His natural body temperature was higher than James' own and that, itself, almost drove the young raccoon over the edge before he could even complete that first thrust. Only once the fur of his hips came to rest against Erol's broad, muscular rump did he stop and gasp for breath, unable to do anything more for fear of his own legs buckling. He wanted to tell Erol how wonderful it felt, but all that escaped his muzzle was a strangled chirp somewhere between gasp and hiccup. Erol murmured pleased approbations and flexed his abdominal muscles.

The result of that trick caused the bucks inner muscles to clench and ripple around him, simultaneously trying to pull him deeper and push him out. James chirped in surprise, head snapping up and shoulders tensing at the powerful sensation, his hips jerking back a few inches and then driving forward again with every ounce of strength his shuddering legs could provide. Erol grunted and hummed affirmatively as he accepted that rough thrust, relaxing the tight grasp of his anal ring as James found himself jerking back again, further, only to thrust forward again even harder.

His body was quite beyond his mind, which of its own could not think coherently enough to take control of his lust. Slipping his hand from Erol's hip he rested it against the buck's stomach just above his drawn sheath. His other hand continued to stroke Erol's erection, in time with his impassioned, urgent thrusts. Much to his own surprise James did not climax as immediately as he ever had with his old girlfriend; the sensations were just that different, the intensity far deeper and the tight pressure enwrapping him far too strong to let him go over the limit immediately.

Erol bucked forward into the stroking of that hand, his erection twitching and jerking, throbbing thick in the raccoon's diminutive grasp, then shoved back to meet each of the raccoon's thrust. Furry hips met furry rump with muffled thuds with each drive of James' girth deep inside his large, athletic partner.

Lover; mate. More than a mere partner, but college life was all too chaotic. What would become of them as time worked its slow torture could not be said, but what they shared here and now was something that James knew he would never forget unto his venerable old age. He churred and chirped, gasping and groaning each time Erol tightened and stroked his thrusts, and felt himself quickly building to his release.

It could not be forestalled, there was no simple pulling out and letting it pass. It was far longer, though, than any sharing he had ever enjoyed before. Raccoons, he knew, had little stamina in the actual mating act, a fact he had accepted of himself long ago. But with Erol he could enjoy it; the heat and grasp and smooth slickness of Erol's body embracing him. Suddenly he felt Erol's cock jerk powerfully in his hand. The buck let out a throaty cry and crashed his head firmly against the window, causing the entire pane to shudder, and his body convulsing around James in mid-thrust with an intensity the raccoon simply could not withstand.

Even as he felt the warm, slick heat of Erol's climax spilling across the back of his fingers James felt his own orgasm burn through his own loins. He cried out, shrill to Erol's baritone, and slammed himself fully into the buck as his cock jerked and spasmed through a mind-numbing release.

Together they slumped, spent, Erol reaching back to catch James before he fell on the bonelessly spent raccoon. For several breathlessly, ecstatically long minutes both remained as they were; joined in their carnal union, until James' spent length slipped free of the buck's warmth. The raccoon fell back to sit on his heels and gasped heavily, giggling softly to himself.

Lifting his ears Erol turned himself to sit back against the wall. The window above him was white-hazed by the buck's panting breath and smudged, standing out starkly against the otherwise clear windows to each side. "Hmmm?" he breathed softly as he reached out to touch the side of James' muzzle.

"That's it." James half-giggled, half moaned, and pressed his muzzle into Erol's thick, large fingers. "I've gone all the way, there's no turning back now."

Erol blinked in curiosity, "Regrets?" he whikkered softly.

Raising his head James met his gaze, their eyes both dark in the shadows, and shook his head slowly, "Not a one." He affirmed with a smile. "It's going to make studying for exams so much harder, with memories of tonight running through my head."

The gemsbok athlete cracked a smile and slid his fingers down the raccoon's dense chest fur, resting on his hips. "To say nothing of the Christmas break afterwards. You going home to your family?"

Moving forward on his knees James settled between Erol's splayed thighs to lean back against the solidity of his broad chest. "It's two trains, a bus, and a long drive to get there, almost a full day one way. But it's the only chance I'll have before summer." Erol always flew home for the holiday with his family and James had to admit he was envious of that more expedient and costly method. He heaved a contented sigh and wriggled up against the gemsbok. Erol's fingers found his tail and a smile spread on his lips as Erol's fingers stroked along it. "I seldom get a chance to visit except on longer breaks or summer."

In this case, he was somewhat afraid, too. What if his family sensed a change in him, some hint that he had chosen a male over a female to share his intimacy? Despite living down the road from a pair of unabashedly gay moose he was not sure how they would take his being gay or, at the very least, bisexual. That was something else to worry about in the future; for now, he thrust those thoughts from his mind and just focused on being cradled in the warm arms of his lover

Erol dipped his muzzle to brush his lips at the tips of James' ears, "I'm going to miss you too." Sliding one hand down James' warm, furry stomach the buck gave his short sheath a teasing caress with his fingertips. "We'll have to enjoy a nice meal and reunion when I get back."

James grunted softly and smiled at the coquettish tickle of his sheath and pressed the root of his tail against Erol's own much more stout sheath, "I am looking forward to that." He craned his head up to give the buck's lips a touch with his own, sharing a soft, lingering kiss. "Which first, though? Reunion, or dinner?" he chortled, "Plotter's done."

"So it is." Erol observed with a smile of his own as he spared the thrice-damned machine a glance before returning it to James. "Reunion, dinner, another reunion, I am thinking."

"Oh, that does sound delightful."

---

At seven in the morning the first of the instructors made their way into the building and began opening up their various classrooms and labs for the day's courses. One such entered Drafting lab number seven but stopped abruptly at the door as if physically struck. For a moment he looked around, tilting his head to survey the room, and grumbled to himself. Lifting his acute nose slightly the aged canine sniffed the air, then chuffed in surprise, and sniffed again only to let out a disgusted snort.

Crossing the classroom he pushed open two of the clerestory windows above the larger windows and walked out, leaving the door open. It would get cold in the lab, but by the time the first drafting class arrived at nine it would have aired out.

---

Two weeks later, final exams

Professor Zimmerman glowered at his class of students, one large hand upon a stack of assignments submitted for his examination grading. His thumb tapped irritably on the stack as he glared balefully at the silent room. Those that he favoured with his right eye shuddered atavistically; the eye was milky white and surrounded by streaks of white fur; scars left over from some calamity. Few had favourable words to say about the short tempered, acerbic old german shepherd, but all said that when it came to his field of study none could compare. Lazily he scratched under his own chin with one hand before speaking.

"Right, well. I'm pleased to say that all groups completed their final assignments, mostly on time for once. The class average was a 72, and while there were only a handful out-right failures," he glared at a small pack of hyenas who returned his dirty glare in kind, "the rest of you managed to pass. While acceptable for a third-year mid-term assignment, I must say I am disappointed that only two of you managed to get 90s." He thumped the nearest stack of papers for emphasis. "I'm expecting better on this exam. Remember people; we have actual building standards in this country. See your TA to pick up your assignment after you hand in your exam. You have two hours beginning now."

Erol sat mid-way up the auditorium and flipped open his copy of the exam at the same time as his fellow students. He did not actively dislike the snappy old dog, but did hold him in a high degree of respect. A favourable grade from his course would put him well on the way to becoming a successful architect, when he was finally done with his sports career.

The material was more complicated as opposed to difficult. Erol certainly knew what to do; it was just a matter of the proper work in the proper manner, which took time. He just snorted and shook his head at the few who left less than half an hour in. Just accepted their failure, he guessed.

Eventually, though, it was done, checked and looking good. He went to the front of the silent auditorium to give it to the Teacher's Assistant and get his assignment.

"Yeah, uh, hey, Erol," the tom cat TA stammered. Erol frowned as the cat's tortoise-shell colored ears folded down on his head. "I, uh, don't actually have your assignment. The professor says that he wants to speak to you about it, he didn't tell me why."

Erol, brow furrowing, just nodded and moved off to the side. Where he had once been contemplating catching a few of his frat brothers for lunch, now his stomach was an open pit into which all his thoughts had sunk. He knew that the assignment was good; his work and Retann's was solid and with the one exception, the changes James made were minor. He didn't know what the old dog wanted to talk to him about, but he doubted it was anything good.

"Ah, yes, Mister Adewailu," came the soft growl of the shepherd, a slight European accent tingeing it. Erol's head snapped around, ears backed, to lock eyes with the one-eyed dog. "You and I need to have a few words." Zimmerman tilted his head, beckoning to the main door. He gave Erol a moment before turning his back to the apprehensive gemsbok and heading out. The old dog was waiting for the young buck outside. Incongruously the brow above his ruined right eye raised curiously before bringing around the long submission tube that contained the blueprints for Erol's assignment. The written summary, which would normally be stuffed in the tube as well, was wrapped around the outside. "An, hmm, interesting piece of work you have here. Too bad it's not all your own."

Erol swallowed. "It was a group -" he started but stammered into silence when the professor continued speaking.

"I don't mean Miss Evans. I can tell her work, just as I can tell yours. I mean someone else." He pulled off the summary report, handing it to Erol and indicating the highlighted section. "This part, here, stands out from the rest of the piece. While correct, is clearly not a product the rest of your analysis, and seems crammed almost as an afterthought, in a very inelegant fashion at that."

"Sir, I - " Erol began and stuttered into silence when the shepherd's preternatural scowl hardened even further.

"It is also not unique to your work," Zimmerman growled. Erol's stomach dropped even further. Was that what the old dog was trying to get him on? Plagerism? "I've seen this before. It was shown to me last year, by Professor Brahnski, who seemed in ordinarily pleased that one of his students -- a second-year none the less -- could come up with it, besting the students in my own class. Given the weak marks of your fellow engineers, it stood out all the more."

"Professor, I asked James Masters to help me with my work." Erol offered levelly. When Zimmerman didn't say anything, he tired to continue. "He's been tutoring me for a few months, and when my lab partner was forced to take a leave of absence due to -"

"I know quite well why Miss Evans left my class, Mister Adewailu." Zimmerman barked, flipping the report closed. "That being the case, it is understandable that you would ask your tutor to review it for you. Every one of his little particular twists of equation were simply corrections for your own failings, Mister Adewailu, and I did take them into account when I graded your work. Had you asked me, I would have approved his involvement."

Erol's jaw worked for a few seconds as he digested the professor's irritable diatribe and, at length, his head tilted in confusion, "Then, Sir, I -"

"You're not so witless as half of the other student in this class, Mister Adewailu. Where as they seem to get by on almost rote memorization and taking the easy way, with you there is at least the spark of creativity and daring." He thumped the tube against Erol's chest, his way of handing it off, the written report held in his other hand. Erol quickly took both. "You just need to actually apply yourself to it. If not for your pointless fascination with running, jumping, and other such activities you would rival your tutor, Mister Masters, in this material." He stepped back and watched as Erol looked over the cover of the report, watching the gemsbok's eyes widen when he saw the red-circled 92 at the top of the page. "As such, Erol, that is the mark of your own merit. If you had produced that whole report on your own, it could easily have been a 97. But I am going to tell you - and this goes for both of you - one thing here and now. And I want you to take it to heart."

"Sir," Erol huffed with soft incredulity, still mystified.

Zimmerman leaned forward and glared with his baleful ruined eye at both of them, "If you two ever use a lab after hours again, make gods be damned sure you air it out before you leave."

Erol blinked, taken aback, and he felt his jaw hanging wide.

Zimmerman grinned, shot him a wink with his ruined eye, and walked out of the hall chuckling jovially to himself, the still-stunned gemsbok left in his wake.