Duke - Book 1: Alpha Rising (Chapter 2 of 8)
An erotic drama, with laughter and tears, his story will touch you, and have you touching yourself.
Two worlds collide as Duke has to tell his boyfriend Mike his secret, that not only can he change into a black German Shepherd, but also that the Irish Setter he brought home from his family vacation is actually his lover Rourke.
Rourke, a 'purist', his primitive people brutalized him for being gay. By becoming his 'Alpha', Duke rescued him, but to remain an 'Alpha' Duke has to lead a pack. The machinations of the 'purists' not only lead Duke to gather a pack, but also to take action that will have far-reaching ramifications.
For Duke to tell Mike his secret, they have to mate. Their love on the line, the real threat comes from within, as another competes for Duke's affection.
Animal experimentation, a knife-wielding homophobe, a local whore, and an ailing grandparent who has to pass along his gift of 'change' add to his troubles, but a hundred year old tortoise with a secret comes to his aide.
Love it or hate it, I'd appreciate your comments!
(Story begins here: http://www.sofurry.com/page/283568)
(Chapter 1 http://www.sofurry.com/page/283922)
** DUKE**
Book 1: Alpha Rising
by scavola
_____
CHAPTER 2
I snuck him back to the medical unit and groggily stumbled to our shelter. Dad and Grandpa, sitting outside, licked coffee from a bowl. As I rubbed my eyes, they chuckled.
"What," I asked, yawning.
"Son, you're a good-looking guy, but do you mind?"
"Sorry." Still naked, I changed and joined them.
Grandpa pushed the bowl my way. "Yesterday could have gone better." Here we go, I thought, the political ramifications of my ass-fucking Tor. "The council held a special session. The purists conceded Tor bit you and they're punishing him, as for what you did . . ."
"He started it!" I realized how juvenile I sounded.
Dad pawed my arm. "Let him finish."
"We explained to them that not only are you a 'tourist', but a homosexual." Grandpa chuckled. "Then we explained to them what a homosexual was. They accepted what you did as what homosexuals do."
I hate to say this, but purists are ignorant, and only know ignorant words, like faggot. Grandpa had to explain to them what homosexual meant, what it really meant, in that we 'tourists' weren't disgusted by it, even had no problem with it, accepting it.
"What about what they did to Rourke?" They had no problem trying to do to me what they brutalized Rourke for, but only if done in pain, not love.
Grandpa scoffed. "The council has opened an investigation."
Dad nuzzled my muzzle, stopping me from launching in to a tirade. "Nothing you do or say will make a difference at this point."
I kept my mouth shut, but he was wrong.
The council was made up of Alphas with substantial packs. The council members not only looked after their own, but also managed the retreat facilities and resources. The grounds had to be maintained and protected, and any incursions, even in the 'outside' world, dealt with. One of these Alphas was a purist, over his own pack of Irish Setters combined with a small pack of Beagles, Rourke's Alpha.
_____
Gathered at the arena, the purists and outsiders mingled again, the council in the center. One council member, an older mastiff, stooped, supported himself with a knotted natural wood cane. He peeked out from under sagging eyelids and in a slow bellow, almost a 'woof', announcing the winners of the games to roaring cheers, each sex, species, and age group, saving mine for last.
"Age fourteen to twenty-one male canines," he said, sighing, "Duke."
Grandpa explained that in the last round my challenger forfeited because he didn't want to get ass-fucked, what they now called the 'Duke hold'. The officials checked the rulebook; 'knotting' was a valid form of dominance. The crowd fell silent as I approached the council. I bowed to each one in turn, except Rourke's Alpha.
"Bow," he commanded.
"No," I replied, crossing my paws over my chest. "This is all because of what you did, what you did to Rourke, and what you did was wrong."
"What we did, our way!"
"Then your way needs to change."
"Who are you to say?" He thrust a paw at my chest, but I didn't flinch.
"I'm an Alpha," I said confidently.
He laughed. "If Alpha, where pack?"
He was right; I couldn't be an Alpha over just Rourke, and everyone knew. The laughter grew louder as I stormed off.
_____
"That could have gone better," Grandpa said.
"I'm proud of you son." Dad held a paw to my shoulder.
"I just want to go home."
Dad turned to Mom. "Dear?"
"I can't wait to take a long, luxurious bath," she said, smiling politely.
"Your absence will be noted at the feast," Grandpa muttered. I looked up to him wearily. "Don't worry about it." He gave me the first of many hugs as we said our goodbyes.
_____
No clothes waited for Rourke in the cabin, he changed as we dressed. He sniffed around a lot, becoming familiar with the outside world, not shying away from the car, instinctively going right for the tires. With a sigh of relief, he bounded in and settled in my lap.
I checked my phone to find a couple of missed calls from Dustin and a message from Mike. He just called to say he loved me; the song played in my head. Mike didn't expect me home until tomorrow so I'd be able to spend time with Rourke, help him get acclimated.
Rourke kept his head out the window the whole trip, taking in all the sights and smells. I did my best to point out things like farms, corner stores, gas stations. We lived in the country, so I didn't need to explain fast-food restaurants, malls, or skyscrapers.
Dark when we got home, Rourke jumped out, sniffing and pawing the asphalt. I patted my thigh and he followed us inside. In my room, he leapt on the bed, prancing. I told him the 'coast is clear', explained what the 'coast is clear' meant, and he unchanged. Rourke, naked, stretched out, enjoying the comfort of a mattress, sheets, and pillows.
After helping him take a shower, he fit in to a pair of baggy track pants and, barely, a hoodie. Before the bathroom mirror, I brushed his wet hair and he moaned, with a fanged grin. Behind him, seeing him 'citified', seeing us together in the 'outside' world, I kissed his shoulder.
Mom put Scout to bed and started her long, luxurious bath. Dad parked himself in his recliner in front of the television, a sports channel on mute, beer in hand. We joined him, us on the couch, Rourke cuddling up next to me.
"What do you think of our house Rourke?" asked Dad.
"Big," he said, sniffing, "and smell good."
"I'm glad you like it, this is your home now too."
"Dad, thank you." Rourke calling him 'dad' might be a problem.
"We're the Smiths," I said, "I'm Duke Smith, Dad would be Mr. Smith, and Mom would be Mrs. Smith."
"Rourke Smith?" he asked.
Again, calling him Rourke Smith might be a problem.
"Dad, he needs a name."
Dad studied him. "He looks Irish, O'Sullivan, O'Connor, or O'Reilly . . ."
"Rourke O'Reilly," I said. Rourke tried the name out, his face contorted. "Now what's his back story?"
"We'll say he's a friend of yours from college, but you'll need to explain him to Mike."
I took a deep breath. "Dad, I want to tell Mike about us."
"Finally," he said, smiling warmly, "you have my permission, but you need Grandpa's." We stood and hugged. "Congratulations, I'm happy for you." Releasing me, he patted my shoulders. "Why don't you two go out for a bit?" He winked, and then skipped upstairs.
Rourke, on the couch, resisted, but I pulled him up and helped him out of his clothes. Changing, I took him outside on all fours, showing him our yard and the woods. We playfully chased, nuzzled, sniffed, and licked each other, but didn't have sex.
_____
The next morning, Mom slammed cupboards and clattered dishes as she started breakfast, on purpose, as she opened the back door. "Hello Dustin," she greeted loudly. "Duke's upstairs, go wake him up."
"The coast is not clear," I whispered to Rourke.
When Dustin snuck in, I was under the covers with a dog. I expected him to pounce on me, as he always did, but he went right for Rourke. Sitting up, I cleared my throat not so subtly. He smiled, throwing himself on me, hugging me, and then went back to Rourke, Rourke's tail wagging.
I crawled out of bed to pee. When I came back, Rourke, lying in Dustin's lap, was getting his ears scratched. I knelt before Dustin, joining him in petting Rourke, and explained how I 'found' Rourke on our family vacation.
"While you're here, get undressed."
Not questioning it, he got up and stripped. He hesitated, pulling off his jeans, wearing briefs, too small and tattered. In my dresser, I had fresh packs of boxers; I tossed the smaller ones to him.
I'm not a 'fashionista' or anything, but I have a lot of clothes. Mom picked up things here and there and I got clothes as gifts. As a college guy, I wore just a few things all the time. Most of my clothes stayed home, in the closet.
We played 'Dress up Dustin', trying on everything from formal to casual. He could wear my shirts, smaller in the shoulders. Smaller in the waist, he fit in to my old pants and jeans. Some things he liked, some things I liked him in, and Rourke barked his approval. A bag of stuff was packed for him to take home. The rest, in 'his' section of my closet, were here when he needed them.
Rourke had Dustin's old briefs in his mouth and Dustin grabbed them, which turned in to a game of tug of war, Rourke playfully growling, until they tore in half. Shaking my head, I headed downstairs for breakfast but Dustin stopped me. I hugged him; I thought he wanted a hug, but he pushed me away.
"What?" I asked. Still naked, I got dressed.
_____
We sat down to breakfast together, all of us but Scout. After being so free with changing this week, Mom kept him in his room, away from 'mixed company'. Mom made a special plate for Rourke, which she took to the laundry room so he could eat how he wanted to in privacy.
"We're having a family dinner tonight," Dad said, "that means you too Dustin."
"Thanks, I'll see." Most days his mom worked a full shift, some days she came home early, 'not feeling well'.
"This is quite a big deal," Mom said, politely, "Grandpa and Grandma Smith and the Holsteins are coming."
The Holsteins were, appropriately, the doctor and his wife.
"Your grandpa and the doctor will want to talk to Mike," Dad said.
"Are you sure about this?" Mom asked, again, politely.
"I've never been so sure of anything in my life." I smiled a big smile.
Dustin, shy, focused on his hearty breakfast.
_____
Outside, Rourke ran off to the back of the yard. I knew what he was up to, as a purist it's what he did. I'd show him how to use the toilet later.
"Duke," Dustin asked, "what was all that about?"
I wrapped my arms around him. "I'm going to ask Mike to marry me."
"Really?" he asked, looking up to me, "I didn't think you guys could get married."
"We can't legally, it's a family thing."
"That's why you're having a family dinner." I nodded. "Is it going to be a big wedding?"
I knew what he was asking, would it be a wedding like he saw on TV. "No, but if there's a ceremony, I want you to be my best man." That got me another 'really?' At 'our place', we stood together. "You know how much I love Mike."
"Yeah," he mumbled. He kicked his feet in the dirt; he hated this 'sappy' stuff.
"Can you picture me with anybody else?"
With a pounding of paws and the rustling of leaves, Rourke leapt in to the clearing and bounded on to me, knocking me down, showering me with kisses, well, licks.
"Should I be jealous?"
"Mike!" I scrambled out from under Rourke and in to Mike's arms.
"Whoa dude," he said, staggering, "I missed you too." As we kissed, we felt a snout in our crotches. "Who's this?" Mike asked, kneeling to Rourke.
"This is Rourke, and he's sort of ours."
Mike rolled his eyes. "Dude, seriously?"
"It's a long story; we have a lot to talk about."
"A talk about 'mystery week', must be big stuff." I smiled, Rourke barked. "Well, you'll never find out about my 'mystery week', Dustin is sworn to silence under penalty of noogies."
Dustin smiled. "He took me to dinner and a movie."
Mike flew at him, surprising him, getting him in a headlock. He rubbed Dustin's head with his knuckles until Dustin broke free, or tried to; they wrestled. I sat back, Rourke in my lap, watching my two guys go at it.
_____
The four of us horsed around, sorry Rourke. Rourke loved Dustin and Mike, and, I think, was happy to be out and for the first time have friends. Sometimes he interfered as Mike and I stole kisses; I'd have to talk him about that later, maybe when I showed him how to use the toilet.
Rourke and Dustin ran off to play, I hoped Rourke would be good and Dustin would keep his pants up. Mike and I sat with Dad; he gave us beers. Dad told Mike that Grandpa wanted to talk to him. Mike asked questions we couldn't answer. He didn't understand, but trusted me, Dad, and my whole family.
Speaking of the whole family, it wasn't just Grandpa and Grandma. My aunt came to the door bearing casserole, the twins busting through at her sides. Their dad pulled them back and had a little talk with them, probably to remind them they were in 'mixed company'.
I was the proud partner with Mike at my side. We greeted the family together, and Mike was as charming as ever. My aunt just smiled, holding the large tray, insisting she 'had it' after multiple offers to take it from her.
"I thought you might need some help," she said, behind me.
"Does everybody know?" Mom asked.
"All right," Dad called out, "guys outside, women in the kitchen." He ushered us out.
"Should Mike stay with us?" my aunt asked. I wasn't sure how to take that.
"Actually, I'm the cook." I smiled, my aunt chuckled knowingly, Mom sighed, and Grandma did what grandmas do, she pinched my cheeks.
Eight of us guys, we paired off for some soccer. We liked soccer, all feet, no hands. Mike, Grandpa, Dad, and I versus Dustin, the twins, and their dad, Rourke played both sides, chasing after whoever had the ball.
I was glad Dustin got along with the twins; he didn't really have any friends his age. His mom would find a reason to object, but as he was getting older, he was getting more freedom. Having a phone was the first step and soon, if he ever passed the test, he'd be driving.
He spent more time with them at dinner, relegated to the 'kiddies' table' with their mom and Grandma. When I looked over, normally quite shy, he was carrying on with everyone, as my aunt was nosy and Grandma, well, did what grandmas do. Rourke, after finishing his plate in the laundry room, stayed at his side because that table was more fun.
The 'adult table' was quite serious as they tried to talk in front of Mike. Grandpa and Dad sat at the heads of the table. Mike and I sat together. Dr. and Mrs. Holstein had joined us and, unchanged, were an average, if not good-looking, couple. Mom and the twin's dad rounded out the table.
A conversation on 'tourists' versus 'purists' was disguised as 'us' versus 'them'. A conversation on inter-species discrimination had each species coded with a nationality, we being 'Americans', racists, or in this case, speciests, I'm not sure that's a word, were 'Canadians', and bovines, for some reason, were 'Mexicans'. They must have thought they were clever but I found out later Mike was able to follow along.
They decided 'the talk' would happen before dessert, whether it went well or not, it was better to end the night with pie. As Mike, Grandpa, and Doctor Holstein entered the den, sliding the doors shut behind them, Dad explained that the doctor would serve as a witness. While Grandpa, as Alpha, had say, Dr. Holstein, impartially, had to concur. This was serious stuff; there would even be a report to the council.
I was a nervous wreck, had to be alone, so I went to my room. The boys, including Rourke, were more than happy to watch sports. With a soft knock on the door, the perfect person came to sit with me, Grandma.
"Hello love," she greeted, shutting the door behind her. "I'm so excited for you, but this must be nerve-racking. I expect the best but even so, it wouldn't be the end of the world. You and Mike would still be together."
"But I would never be able tell him about us."
She sat next to me. "You haven't told him for, how long have you been together, fifteen years?"
"But I need to tell him so much, about what happened, about Rourke."
Grandma dismissed my concern with a wave of her hand. "Rourke will be fine; he's enjoying himself. If it becomes too much for him, or too much for you and Mike, he could always come stay with us at the farm."
"You'd do that?"
"Of course love." She reached in to the sleeve of her sweater, grabbing me a tissue. "See, everything will be fine."
Still, I sobbed. "Grandma, why does Mom hate me?"
"Oh my dear boy," she said, drawing my head to her shoulder as I cried. "You're mother's too much like your grandfather," she said, pounding her fist on the bed as she rattled off, "structure, order, rules." She sighed. "She tries so hard for everything to be perfect. Not me, I could give a hoot if I have dust bunnies on the floor, laundry piled up, expired leftovers in the freezer, or . . ."
"If you had a gay son," I said, blubbering.
"Your mother just doesn't understand that if the square peg doesn't fit in the round hole, who cares?" She patted my arm. "After that awful fight, when you didn't come back, she was so concerned she made her mother and I go with her to find you."
"She did?" I never considered who tucked us in.
"Yes, so don't you worry love, everything will be just fine."
_____
As the doors to the den parted, there was laughing. Mike stepped out, Grandpa slapping him on the back; Dr. Holstein gave me a smile. Unofficial and still a big secret, dessert turned in to a celebration, and everyone joined in the good mood. I'd never enjoyed pie more.
_____
Dustin and the twins had their phones out, exchanging numbers. Their mother, no casserole, hands free, gave both Mike and I a kiss goodnight; the twins gave us hugs. Dr. and Mrs. Holstein shook our hands, smiling. Grandma, as grandmas do, pinched our cheeks and told us to make sure we were eating well at college; we were looking thin. Grandpa took both of us in a big hug, smacking our backs. Mom started cleaning as soon as Dad shut the door.
Mike, Dustin, and I headed out back, Rourke at our heels.
"Did you have fun tonight?" I asked.
"Yeah," Dustin said, grinning, "I didn't know you had cousins, or that they'd be cool."
"Hey, I'm cool."
"Dustin," his mom called, in a raspy screech, he bolted.
We stayed hidden so she wouldn't see us 'guys he shouldn't be hanging around with'. Rourke looked to Dustin longingly, pacing, but I tapped my thigh and he followed. We sat in the clearing.
"Tell me," I said.
"Where would I start?" Mike shook his head. "They asked a lot of hypothetical questions."
"You like hypothetical questions."
"I told them the one you asked me; about if you were a dog," he said, grinning, "they got a laugh out of that." I'm sure they did. "Dude," he said, taking my hand, "something's going on. Since you came back, things feel different. Whatever it is, we'll get through it together." He smiled. "I think I was able to convince them of that."
"I know you did, my master debater."
"Speaking of that . . ."
He slid his hands down the back of my pants. Leaning forward, he forced me to the ground, crawling over me. His tongue penetrated my mouth as he'd soon penetrate me, sneaking in at first with quick flicks, teasing me, and then plunging.
He took my breath away, as only he could. He had me over him, laid back on my elbows, feet planted in the dirt. I thrust my hips up and down, the right amount of grip and release as I rode him.
"Dude," he sighed, swelling, his warm fluid filling me.
I let it drip out of me, on to him, making him slick, and then dropped myself to his lap; I gasped, squirting his smooth chest. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Rourke laying nearby, panting quietly, I'd forgotten he was there.
_____
"I watched Duke mate." Rourke grinned, his fanged grin.
Unchanged, I had him on the toilet. He sat for a while now, intent on seeing magic as the poop 'disappeared'. I brushed my teeth; one more thing I'd have to show him.
"Get used to it," I said, spitting, "we do that a lot."
Rourke slumped, sorrowful, but relaxed, pooped. He leapt from the toilet. "No magic," he said, watching the turd settle in the bowl.
"Not yet," I said, taking him by the shoulders, "sit back down."
I showed him toilet paper. A novice toilet paper user, he used wads, but got the job done. He stood and watched in awe as I flushed and, well, you know what happened.
We went to bed, him by my side.
"Duke," he whispered, "what about Rourke?"
"What do you mean, what about Rourke?"
He rolled over, tenting the sheet. It made sense; living 'changed' must have left little opportunity for hands-on experience, he'd be a humper. Unfortunately, Mr. Humpy was in my room at school, for, um, sentimental reasons. Oh well, just one more thing I'd have to show him . . .
*****
Scout was back at the table for breakfast but obviously not happy about being stuck in his room yesterday. Collar off, in just a diaper, the little guy squirmed, refusing to eat. Mom patiently held out a spoonful of creamed banana.
"Did you enjoy meeting the family Rourke?" Dad asked.
"Yes Mr. Smith. I love Mr. Smith, I love Mrs. Smith, I love Scout, I love Dustin, I love Mike . . ."
He rattled off the list, everybody, even including Dr. and Mrs. Holstein, but Dad noted an exception. "Not Duke?"
"No Duke." He growled playfully. "Mike."
Dad chuckled. "And do you like the 'outside' world?"
"I stay in house, I eat good food, I sleep with Duke," he said, patting my shoulder, "Duke show me toilet and jerk off."
Dad choked on his coffee. "I'm glad you enjoy it, living in the outside world, not the, well, and the other thing." He shuddered as creamy slop hit him in the face.
Scout squealed with glee as Mom sighed. Dad ran his finger through the mess and sucked on it, making yummy noises. The serious look Scout had turned desperate as he reached out for another spoonful with grabby hands.
_____
Rourke jerked his head in the direction of Dustin's house. We could hear the raspy screeches from Dustin's mother as she slammed the front door, her car door, and then the roar of the engine as she tore down the road. I gave Rourke a nod and he bounded off.
I waited a while longer than expected, sitting at the base of the huge old maple, listening to the faint murmur of the nearby stream. Dustin stomped heavily and clumsily as he and Rourke stepped in to the clearing. He was wearing the same clothes from yesterday. It looked like, with bags under his eyes, if he had slept, he'd slept in them.
"Is everything all right?" He didn't look at me, focused on petting Rourke. "What happened?" I sat up next to him.
"She was mad because I ate at your house yesterday. I told her your dad invited me and your whole family was over . . ."
"But?" Tears welled in his eyes as he hesitated. "You can tell me."
"She said she didn't care, she didn't want me anywhere around you because you'd make me gay." He wiped his cheek. "She said she'd rather have a dead son than a gay son."
"I'm sorry," I said, holding back the rage, she was, after all, his mother, "I'm sorry she feels that way."
"Don't be," he said, rubbing his eyes, "you know how she gets." When she's been drinking is what he meant.
"Come on, I'll make you breakfast."
"Really?" he asked, looking up to me.
"Either I will or Mom will," I said, getting up, "come on."
"I probably stink."
"You do, but you can take a shower."
He laughed and chased after me as I ran to the house, Rourke nipping at our heels. Upstairs in my room, he kicked off his shoes and dropped his jeans and boxers but left his shirt on as he stepped in to the bathroom, which I found odd. While I waited on the bed, Rourke went with him and would tell me later that Dustin had marks on his back, as if he'd been beaten.
_____
Mike pulled up at noon, honking. The noise was new to Rourke and he ran to the door, barking. I kissed Mom, Dad, and Scout goodbye, and we headed out.
I cracked the window for Rourke in the back seat. Holding Mike's hand I glanced his way each time I started to but couldn't talk, losing my nerve. Instead, I turned on the radio, Mike singing, Rourke howling.
When we got home, well, Mike wanted his lost week back. Nonstop, Rourke got frustrated, whining and pawing at the bedroom door. I wrote out Mike a handful of 'I.O.U.'s, literally, opened the door, and Rourke bounded on to the bed.
"I'm sorry, big guy," Mike said, scratching Rourke's chest. "This must be a lot for you, your new home."
I tapped my thigh and Rourke followed. I took him to each room, both of them, to show him around. Plain white walls, the small house was sparsely but nicely furnished. The kitchenette had older but well cared for appliances and a dark wood cafe table and chairs. The living area had the huge flat screen on an entertainment center on one wall, loaded with our electronic gadgets, phones and chargers, media players, a docking station for Mike's laptop, etc. The couch sat along the other wall, a large cream-covered futon in a solid dark wood frame.
"Dude," Mike called, "are you talking to the dog?"
"First of all, 'the dog' has a name," I said, leaning against the door jamb, "second of all, he may not understand what I'm saying but he understands my intent, and my intent is to make him comfortable." I jerked, from a wet nose up my ass.
"Come," said Mike, patting the bed.
We whooped/barked and leapt on the bed, before him on our knees/hind legs, arms/paws in the begging position, panting.
"Dude, not the dog thing again." He shook his head. "Fine," he said, patting our heads, "you're both good boys." He got up on his knees. "Now lay down and I'll rub your belly."
Rourke and I both fell over, stretched out to either side of Mike.
"Not you," Mike said. Rourke whimpered, so, with a 'whatever', Mike scratched our bellies, slow and hard. "While I've got you here, do you want to talk?"
"I love you," I said, Rourke 'woofed'.
"Dude, seriously? All this build up about a big life-changing secret and that's it, you love me?" He scoffed. "Tell me something I don't know."
I closed my eyes as he scratched lower; I think Rourke did the same.
"I'm serious," I said, yawning.
"Dude, you're serious, worried, even scared. So relax, whatever it is, we'll get through it together." He stopped scratching; we were both asleep. "They do take after their owners," he said, sliding in between us.
_____
The next morning, wanting to spend some time with Rourke in his new home, I asked Mike to take notes for me. He made me fill out more 'I.O.U.'s, and headed off to class.
"The coast is clear," I said; Rourke cocked his head. "You can change."
"Coast clear," he said, unchanging, stretching, and pouncing on me, showering me with kisses. "Duke, thank you!"
"I thought you'd be mad at me for not telling him yet."
"I love Duke, Duke love Mike, I love Mike."
I didn't want him to get the wrong idea. "You can't."
He pulled away. "No love Duke, no love Mike, no love Rourke."
"Rourke," I said, grabbing his shoulder, but he shrugged off my hand. He whimpered softly, looking about, trying to find his place in the world. Overly sensitive, maybe even feeling guilty for having slept with him, I was being a dick. "Rourke, I'm sorry," I said, him letting me hug him, "but Mike is my mate."
"I know," he mumbled, "not stupid."
Pressed against him, between his frailty and my remorse, I wanted to linger but 'mystery week' was over; he'd have to settle for lots of hugs and kisses, and a hand job in the shower.
_____
Class, with a lab, being only six hours long, didn't give us too much time. I showed him how to turn on the TV and flip channels, how to use the phone, my number programmed, in case of emergency, how to open and eat various foods; fortunately, he didn't care if they were warm. On all fours, I showed him around outside, the neighborhood. We spent the rest of the time naming the things around the house as part of his education.
Mike came home to find me on the couch, stretched out over Rourke.
"Dude, for some reason, you in all that fur, that's hot." He dropped his keys, his laptop, and his clothes. "Either that, or I'm just a horny little fucker."
Not wanting to neglect Rourke, he only used two 'I.O.U.'s. As we did most days, we slipped in to running shorts and shoes and went, go figure, for a run. We didn't have a leash but brought Rourke; I told Mike he was well trained. As we ran, he gave me the highlights from class, two more students dropped, as the professor was a dick. I went on and on about what a good boy Rourke was, and how well he was acclimating.
"And you found him at your families' cabin in the woods?" he asked, panting, as, back home, we headed inside.
"Yeah, about that . . ."
"Like I said last night, relax, whatever it is, we'll get through it together." In the bathroom, he turned on the shower. "Dude, that's right, you fell asleep."
"It's not my fault you used six 'I.O.U.'s."
I handed him my shorts, he rinsed them and his, hanging them to dry. We stepped in to the shower, lathering each other up. His smooth, hairless body slippery in the water, my hairy body required a little more scrubbing. Rourke sat outside, watching.
I sighed. "It's just a big can of worms."
"I like worms." He fondled mine.
"Are you cashing in an 'I.O.U.'?"
"No," he said, dropping it. Rinsing, he furrowed his brow. "Dude, why do I have all these 'I.O.U.'s and you don't have any?"
"You're a horny little fucker," I said with a grin as we stepped out of the shower.
We toweled each other off. He rubbed moisturizer over his arms, chest, and thighs while I did his back; he hated dry skin.
"Here's the plan," he said, cleaning his hands on me, "fuck, homework, fuck, dinner, fuck, talk, fuck, sleep."
"I'll try to keep up." I grabbed his little ass as we headed to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us.
_____
The sex, well, was with Mike, so couldn't be better. We combined 'homework, fuck, and dinner', snacking while studying and groping each other under the table, which I'm sure Rourke enjoyed watching. Getting anxious as 'the talk' drew closer, the after-dinner sex was all about trying to get me to relax, lots of kissing. After, Mike opened the door and Rourke joined us, curling up on the bed.
"Dude, take a deep breath," Mike said, holding my hands, "I've know you've had a secret your whole life."
"It was never mine to tell."
"But now you can?" Mike furrowed his brow. "Dude, all these years you went on these 'family vacations', what's different now, did something happen?" I nodded. "You're okay and you're family's okay, the only difference is Rourke."
"This involves him."
To free Rourke, I had to tell Mike a secret so big that reports would be made to the council, and, as Dad explained, there'd be probation. I tried, I really did, but how do you start a conversation like this? Mumbling like an idiot, everywhere I started, every approach I took unraveled, fell apart, as I cried.
"Dude," Mike pleaded, "just fucking say it!"
"I can't," I said, sobbing, "I can't!"
Rourke whimpered, scrambling about on the bed.
"I love you dude," Mike said, tears welling in his eyes, "whatever it is, we'll get through it together."
Mike told me again what he'd been telling me over and over. Dad was proud of me and even Grandpa gave me the okay. What more did I need? Eventually, it came out as a whimper.
"Dude, seriously," he said quietly, dropping his head to mine, "All this time, I've known you since you were five, ever think you might have slipped up once or twice?" He pulled me close, laughing. "Dude, I know."
_____
When we were about ten, he told me, I changed during a sleepover. In our early teens, I changed the first time we, well, you know. He never said anything because I'd kept it a secret.
"It was probably better that you didn't, there're rules." We sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee, a long night ahead of us. "You could have given me a hint though."
"Dude, seriously? If you were a dog we'd be together . . ."
Now that he mentioned it, he said I liked it 'doggie-style', he'd give me a 'bone' as a 'treat', threatened to have me 'fixed', called me his 'bitch', I'm not sure that one counts, but the list went on and on, and there was this time with a leash . . .
"You're right, I'm a big idiot."
Rourke paced at the back door, he had to go out.
"Use the toilet," Mike called.
"Fine, Rourke, use the toilet." Rourke hurried off.
"Dude," Mike said quietly, "you slept with him."
"It's a long story."
"Tell me the short version then."
"He was tortured for a year, beaten, and raped and it was my fault."
He sighed. "Do you love him?"
"He knows about us . . ."
"That's not what I asked," he said sternly. His brow furrowed, I could tell he was thinking, but not what.
"This is just until he gets adjusted, gets a job, or meets someone."
"Dude," he said, "that could take years."
"He can go to Grandpa and Grandma's farm."
"Just like that?" he asked, I nodded.
Whimpering from the bathroom, 'fuck', I cursed, Mike said 'dude'. Rourke was in the tub, now unchanged, his head buried in his knees, crying. I knelt on the floor and rubbed his back soothingly.
"I love Duke, I love Mike," he wailed, "no Grandpa farm, I be good!"
Him in this state, I had no choice; I got in the tub with him.
Mike stood in the bathroom doorway looking, well; I can't say how he looked. The love of his life, his lover of fifteen years, held another man in the tub, consoling him. Mike, a thinker, wouldn't take it at face value, but still, my heart skipped a beat.
Rourke held me holding Mike, stretched out in the tub, and no, the tub wasn't big. We got to know each other or, as Mike and I already did and I'd told Rourke all about us, specifically Rourke and me.
I noticed an improvement in Rourke's English already, stringing together sentences of four to five words. He told Mike how we met, how I helped him, the reaction from his pack, but not the torture, how I helped him again, how he helped me, ending with me bringing him home, teaching him how to use the toilet and, well, let's just say it was a good thing we were already in the tub.
It was also a good thing we didn't have class on Tuesdays. The time we got to bed would have been time to go to school. By the time we got up, it was late afternoon. As we went about what was left of our day, I can't say I was too happy that Mike was taking everything so well.
Mike was strong, strong in his convictions; I had no doubt of his love for me. Me, well, I cry a lot. I'll admit, while happy we were all getting along, every time they touched I felt a pang of jealousy. I think Mike noticed and the little fucker did it just to piss me off.
Mike loved running his fingers through Rourke's thick fur, even curling up on top of him to relax. Mike rested his head on Rourke's shoulder, an arm curled around his chest, a leg kicked around him, Rourke's tail swaying lazily between his legs, fair skin nestled in waves of copper. Mike was right, there's something sexy about seeing a man lying on all that fur.
_____
So that was it, we all got along. We slept together, woke, and showered together. Mike and I went to school and Rourke watched TV, to learn English, and he kept the place clean, which was nice of him. After school we'd run, after buying Rourke his first pair of running shoes, yeah, his face lit up and we got lots of kisses for that. We'd shower again and did homework with Rourke at the table practicing reading and writing. After, we piled in bed and had wild and crazy man-beast sex until we passed out.
_____
And we lived happily ever after . . .
TO BE CONTINUED
(Chapter 3 http://www.sofurry.com/page/284712/)