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Ramsay Lakes stared up at an enormous pristine white building, the tall, muscular grey and black raccoon pulling back his black cap as his ringed tail swished behind him. It was twilight, a sliver of red sun barely visible behind the horizon and stars slowly starting to appear and twinkle in the darkened sky. With a deep breath, he heaved his broom onto his shoulder before walking forward, down the long cobblestone trail that connected front porch to the sidewalk outside.

Whoever owned the building, they were obviously well-to-do, something Ramsay was envious of, but he had to smile. This way, he might just get a good tip from the man of the house. Brushing his hand on his black cloak (a cloud of soot plumed from the action), he took off his hat and reached out to pull upon the cord that rang the bell inside the house. Patiently, he waited, his ears twitching as he heard footsteps coming down the stairs inside. There were two clicks on the door before it opened, revealing a short, slim rabbit, as pristine white as the building he lived in. From what Ramsay could tell, the rabbit was in his late teens or early twenties, and wearing a uniform for a private college Ramsay knew he could probably never have afforded.

The rabbit took one look at the chimney sweeper and he wrinkled his pink nose. Great, this is going to be one of those rich people. Keeping his smile on, white teeth contrasting greatly with the rest of his dark fur, he said, "'Ello, laddie. Ramsay Lakes, at yer service! Is yer father home?" he asked, his accent a rather thick mishmash of Irish and Cockney.

With his lip curled in a sneer, the rabbit shook his head. "No," he said condescendingly. "My parents are out to dinner and the servants are on vacation. Percival Brimley, the Sixth, and be thankful I'm even talking to you at all."

"So, yer, er... The man o' the 'ouse at the mo', then?" asked Ramsay, his smile starting to fade and his hopes of getting a tip dropping by the moment.

"Yes, I'm the man of the 'ouse," snarked Percival. "I'd appreciate that you use more consonants when you talk. What do you want?"

"Er, w-well," stammered Ramsay, lowering his broom, which was detached in several pieces, and were held together by leather twine, to show the rabbit. "I'm a chimney sweep, lad. Was jus' wonderin' if ya needed a sweepin'."

There was a few moments of silence as the rabbit's emerald green eyes fell upon the broom and considered it. Percival shrugged, pulling the door open so Ramsay could walk in. "Fine, come in. Make it quick, I don't know how much longer my parents are going to be gone."

Spirits rising again, the soot-covered raccoon lifting his broom again and wiping his boots on the welcome mat before walking in, though he paused a moment as his brown eyes took in the interior. "Impressive," he complimented.

"Yes, it is," agreed Percival, managing to make it sound condescending as he closed and locked the door again. "Don't need an Irish raccoon to tell me that. The fireplace is in Father's den, this way." The pure white rabbit lead Ramsay through the hallway next to the kitchen and into a large room with a high ceiling and a bookcase near a desk.

"Yer father work at a bank?" asked Ramsay curiously.

"No," answered Percival, his back to the raccoon as he walked towards the fireplace. Ramsay had trouble keeping his eyes off the rabbit's rear, which, along with his thighs, was the largest thing about Percival, besides his attitude. The fireplace had a large armchair in front of it with a small table to the side with an ashtray and cigar, which wasn't lit, and a book. Percival flopped into the chair, running his fingers down the arms before picking up his book and finding his place, waving vaguely at the mantle. "There you are, have at it," he said.

"Er," began Ramsay.

"Oh, God, what now?" demanded Percival, looking up from his book and sneering at the raccoon in his house. "Get to work, already! I graciously let you into my house to do a job, and you just stand there, stuttering like a buffoon! I swear, my father is going to-" But Ramsay didn't know, nor care what Mr. Brimley was going to do. He had had quite enough of this uppity little rich boy brat. In an instant, he dropped his broom on the carpet, and was looming over the much smaller rabbit, one hand gripping the arm of the chair while his index finger was pointing at Percival's nose.

"A few things, ya skinny, smarmy li'l spoiled brat," growled Ramsay, his voice dropping into a sinister hiss. "I don't know or care who yer father is, or what he does, or what he's goin' to do. If not him, I doubt yer mother taught you to treat your guests this way. I'm 'ere o' me own free will, trying to do a good deed, and you're talkin' down at me like I'm one o' yer servants. Now, 'ow does it feel, Percy?" The rabbit had been sinking in the chair the entire time Ramsay spoke, obviously terrified. By the time the raccoon finished, Percival looked like he'd shrunk even smaller than he already was.

"I-I'm... I'm sorry," squeaked Percival, and Ramsay, satisfied, straightened up and took a breath before letting it out again.

"I was jus' goin' to explain that we need some sheets, to cover the floor and nearby furniture," he said, speaking as calmly as possible.

"Why?" Percival asked timidly as he slowly sat up more properly in his father's chair, not noticing the large handprint on the arm. This time, he simply sounded curious.

Well, looks like we're gettin' somewhere finally, thought Ramsay as he took another breath. "Because, while I'm cleanin', soot is goin' to fall and get pretty much everywhere. I'm sure daddy wouldn't appreciate soot gettin' all over his floor and chair." Ramsay's voice took a condescending edge by accident and he immediately regretted it.

Percival frowned. "I apologized, you don't have to keep treating me like dirt," he snapped, jumping to his feet and stepping right up to the much taller raccoon and shoving his finger in his face.

Ramsay grabbed the offending wrist and pulled it away, his ears flattening to his skull as he started to loom over the rabbit again, Percival immediately starting to cower and shrink in on himself once more. The raccoon stopped, closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting Percival go. "Yer right, I shouldn't 'ave said that. Look, I can leave-"

"No..." Percival was staring at his wrist with a very odd expression, where a print of soot had been left by Ramsay's hand. After a few moments of silence, he looked up at Ramsay again with that same look that Ramsay couldn't quite read. Oddly, he was blushing. "Er, I'll get the sheets. Please, wait here."

Five minutes later, the floor and Mr. Brimley's chair were covered, and Ramsay was kneeling on the floor in front of the opening to the fireplace, pushing the circular brush up little by little by attaching the different segments as it went. Percival was standing slightly hunched to Ramsay's side, palms on his knees, having still not cleaned the soot the raccoon had left on his arm.

"So, why aren't you cleaning from the bottom up?" asked Percival, watching as a little soot fell onto the white sheets, his cotton tail wiggling slightly.

"Goin' from top to bottom makes sure I'm gettin' it all," explained Ramsay. He'd been asked this question before, usually by children, but often enough by older people that he didn't mind it too much. "If I start at the bottom and go up, by the time I get up to the top, the soot that's higher up will fall onto the walls further down, and I'd have to start over again. This way, I'm gettin' from the top down and it's less likely I'll miss any."

"That makes sense," said Percival, and he sounded genuine. Ramsay was surprised by the sudden change in attitude from condescending to curious. Not that he was complaining. Percival lowered to his knees, palms on his thighs as he watched, sitting a bit closer to Ramsay once the last segment was attached to the broom.

Ramsay couldn't help but find it strange how Percival's emerald eyes glimmered as the soot fell onto Ramsay's hands, arms, and the sheet below them. "How often do you get this chimney cleaned?" asked Ramsay, trying to make casual conversation.

"I've never seen it get cleaned before," admitted Percival. "I'm... Not usually allowed in here. This is the first time I've had the house to myself in a long time. I imagine Father usually hires sweeps to clean it, and I don't know how often."

"Well, yer supposed to get it cleaned about once every week or so," explained Ramsay as a particularly large cloud of soot and smoke expanded from the fireplace. "Seems it's been neglected for a while." Percival didn't say anything for a while after that, and when Ramsay looked at him, he saw the rabbit was biting his lip, running his white hand through the soot on the sheet and looking at it with that same very odd expression. Ramsay shifted slightly, letting out a soft cough as he brought the broom slowly further down as he cleaned, placing his attention upon the fireplace.

A few minutes later, Percival stood and walked away, Ramsay assuming that the rabbit had gone to get a drink or something, so he continued to work, more and more soot falling onto the sheet-covered floor. After a little while, and thinking idly that Percival had been gone a long time, Ramsay looked over his shoulder, and blinked at what he saw.

His father's chair still covered by a sheet, Percival had left many hand prints all over it, and at one point had taken his shirt and shoes off, and now there was a print on his chest as well, with a trail leading down, where his hand had started to sink under his waistband. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing heavily, biting his lip as he tugged his pants open, letting a pink shaft pop out so he could stain it, too.

Ramsay's pulse quickened, and he felt his black pants begin to get tighter by the moment. He sat frozen to the spot as the rabbit stroked himself, not yet noticing that Ramsay was staring, his toes curling as he squeezed the sensitive flesh. At that moment, he opened his eyes, and froze. "Ramsay!" he yelped, his thighs coming together and his hands covering himself as he sat up. He was embarrassed, timid, and absolutely adorable. "I-I... I didn't think..."

Ramsay let go of the broom and stood up. He wasn't thinking either as he walked slowly over to Percival, who was once again shrinking in on himself. Ramsay's larger, stronger hand pressed upon Percival's belly once he was close enough, the rabbit blinking curiously until the hand was lifted, leaving an almost perfect print. The result was immediate, Percival taking in a sharp gasp and curling his toes into the sheet on the floor. Percival's green eyes rose to Ramsay's dark face, and the raccoon, saying nothing, reached down and unbuttoned his pants, pulling open the fly.

The tower of flesh was a dark, almost dull red, had a very good length to it and oddly thick. It had a slight curve a few inches near the tip, not nearly as much as the usual raccoon. Most unusually, it had a glans with tiny, soft barbs on the top. With shaking, black stained hands, Percival reached up, wrapping long, thin fingers around the thick shaft, sitting up in the chair to look at it, his breath catching in his throat. "Before ya ask," said Ramsay, using his brief moment of clarity, "me father was a Maine Coon. I mostly take after me mother, except in a few places."

Percival bit his bottom lip once more, fingers sliding up and down the thick shaft. "I wasn't asking," he said softly, his white cotton tail wiggling as his green eyes looked up at Ramsay as he leaned forward, flicking his tongue at the tip. It was obvious that Percival had never done something like this, and had Ramsay not seen the rabbit looking at him with a lusty look of reverence, the raccoon would have stopped it all right there. They both wanted it, they both needed it.

Despite his inexperience, Percival was doing better than most virgins, Ramsay thought, not that he had sex with a lot of virgins. If only. Percival pressed his lips to the tip, slowly spreading them as he pushed forward, his moan vibrating around the firm flesh and making Ramsay groan. The raccoon reached out, hooking his fingers behind Percival's neck, and it was obvious that the rabbit knew exactly what that meant. The mere thought of getting a handprint was getting him excited now, and inch by inch, the flesh was buried in Percival's mouth, though it was obvious it was only going so far, his hand serving to slide up and down what part of the shaft he could reach as he bobbed his head up and down, making it glisten in the dim lighting all around them.

Percival's eyes very nearly rolled back in his head, tasting the salty pre touch his tongue for the first time. "God, Percival..."

The rabbit grunted, pulling and panting heavily. "Call me Percy," he said, his hand serving to smear his saliva across the whole length. When Ramsay said nothing, he gave the shaft a squeeze to get the larger male's attention. "Do it. Call me Percy, Ramsay."

Ramsay blinked, then pushed Percival's head down, his mouth going deeper than before. "Suck it better, Percy," he hissed, and though Percival's eyes widened in surprise at first, they glazed over immediately after, his cotton tail wiggling madly as the tip tickled at his throat. "Not deep enough, Percy," grunted Ramsay, bucking his hips forward. With a single gag, Percival gulped down the thick shaft the best he could, gripping at Ramsay's black coat, his body writhing slightly as his lips went past the halfway point and his chin very nearly touched Ramsay's sac before he started to push back, his eyes starting to water.

Ramsay let go, blinking as Percival pulled away, taking in a gasp and panting heavily again, before letting out a cough or two. Saliva bridged the gap between the tip of Ramsay's shaft and his bottom lip, and he was staring at it, his breathing heavy. "Are you okay, Percy?"

Percival nodded, his hand sliding up and down again and looking up at Ramsay before biting his lip. "It's slick enough now, right?" he asked softly. Ramsay's breath caught in his throat now, and he stared down at those eyes. Percival finally let the raccoon go, turning his back on him and pulling his knees up onto the chair, hands gripping the back, the rabbit looked over his shoulder at Ramsay's hands, then over to the fireplace, and the sheet nearest to it where a pile of soot was resting, and finally back to Ramsay's face.

The raccoon understood, turning away and walking over to the fireplace, briefly crouching down to press his hands into the soot pile to dirty them again, then stood up, turning just in time to watch Percival pull his waistband down over the curve of his plump rear, presenting his bare, clean white rump to the raccoon. Well, it wasn't going to be clean for long.

Ramsay walked over, slowly, and when he was close, he very carefully grabbed hold of both cheeks of Percival's rear, so that the perfect prints would be made on them. Lining the tip up the best he could, squeezing the two cheeks together, he pushed forward. Both males grunted, Percival's eyes clenching tight. The rabbit's tailhole wasn't giving way, and after about half a minute of the tip of his shaft doing everything but penetrate, Ramsay realized the problem. "Percy, relax," he said. "Yer clenchin'."

Percival opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder, blushing again before taking a deep breath. It seemed to do the trick; this time, the tip finally managed to enter, the barbs raking across Percival's insides and making the rabbit take in a sharp, heavy gasp. Ramsay let out an intense growl, his fingers digging into Percival's flesh as he pushed forward, inch by inch, he filled the much smaller rabbit. He couldn't even imagine what Percival was thinking. Probably that he was getting dirty on the inside, and Ramsay couldn't decide whether he should be flattered or offended if that was the case.

While the curve of Ramsay's shaft was only slight, it was enough, the tip spearing right into Percival's prostate before moving on as the raccoon kept going. Finally, he neared his base, but didn't go all the way. He had soot all over his pants and coat, and while it was falling in a fine mist upon Percival's backside and making it look as if someone were grinding fresh pepper onto the white of a fried egg, he didn't want just a bit black spot on Percival's rear, he wanted to just leave the two handprints.

"Fffuck..." Percival's white ears had fallen limp upon his back, eyes closed tighter than before, while Ramsay's ears perked up.

"Is that a request, lad?" asked the raccoon, removing his right hand from Percival's rear and reaching out to grab hold of the rabbit's ears, tugging his head back as he jerked his hips suddenly.

"Nngh!" was Percival's answer, his fluffy cotton tail wiggling above the thick flesh spreading him wide. Ramsay couldn't help but grin, and so he began properly pumping his hips back and forth. The tightness of the rabbit was almost painful, veins popping up where the puckered hole was clenched around him. It was a wonder he still had circulation. Percival bounced under the raccoon's slow, but powerful thrusts, the smaller rabbit gripping at the sheet on the chair as his back arched and his head was pulled back by Ramsay's grip on his ears.

Ramsay let out a soft hiss, leaning forward. He pulled Percival's head to one side so that his neck was more exposed. The rabbit let out a gasp as he felt the raccoon mix's sandpaper tongue rake across his flesh through his fur before he bit down upon his shoulder. It wasn't too hard, just enough to take hold, and Percival clenched briefly around Ramsay again before taking a shaking breath to make himself relax again. It didn't work, but that wasn't stopping Ramsay now.

Ramsay didn't know how long he was thrusting into this rabbit, who was steadily becoming more vocal by the moment, eyes rolling back in his head, but he was getting incredibly close, and judging by Percival's grip upon his own shaft, it was a wonder he hadn't popped long before now. Suddenly, Percival let out a loud yelp, his back slamming against Ramsay's chest and sending a cloud of soot flying on either side of them as ropes of thick cream splashed onto the sheet below them, leaving streaks over the handprints that Percival had left.

The resulting squeeze around finally sent Ramsay over the edge himself, his grip around Percival's ears and rear tightening and his sac contracting as he filled the white rabbit, the sheer thickness of his shaft making sure barely a drop escaped. Ramsay removed his hand from Percival's rear and pressed it firmly upon his back, pushing the rabbit's chest into the couch as his hips jerked forward with each pulse of his shaft filling Percival even more.

With a final, heavy groan, Ramsay pulled away, his shaft still rock hard, the barbs flared a little and raking along Percival's insides before it was finally pulled free, and, panting heavily, he stepped back. Percival was twitching, collapsed over the back of the chair, his backside leaking thick globs of white cream down his thighs, where the waistband of his pants rested halfway. His mouth was hanging slightly open and his eyes were glazed over, dulled from the haze that was no doubt clouding his thoughts. Everywhere on his body, but most prevalently on his butt cheeks and back, were large, black handprints where Ramsay had grabbed him or otherwise touched him.

They were silent for a long few moments, Ramsay's shaft slowly started to soften and hang out of his fly, still leaking from the tip as Percival slowly recovered. Finally, the rabbit spoke. "Y-you'd better finish..." Ramsay blinked as Percival slowly straightened up, wincing and looking over his shoulder with glittering green eyes before he pointed over to the fireplace. "Father will be home soon... It would be difficult to explain this to him."

After a moment, Ramsay nodded, pushing his now soft shaft into his pants again before closing his pants. "Yer right... I... Right." The raccoon turned and stepped back over to the fireplace, but couldn't help occasionally looking over his shoulder as he finished up to watch Percival slowly and carefully pull his pants back up that round butt to make sure he didn't smear the soot, and also pull his uniform jacket over his head. Other than the spots on his face, wrist and ears, he was looking just as he did when Ramsay had first walked in, though with a considerably different twinkle in his eye as he watched Ramsay finish off.

Finally, Ramsay was done. After gathering up all the sheets, and, with Percival's help, putting them all into the washroom, Ramsay began to gather up his broom as the door in the living room opened. Percival, who was trying to brush off the handprint Ramsay had left out of the arm of his father's chair, hurried out of the den.

Ramsay put a rush on it himself, tying up all the segments of his broom and heaving them onto his shoulder before walking down the hall towards the living room. "...and we just put the sheets in the wash, Father," Percival was saying to whom Ramsay could only assume was his parents. Mr. Brimley could have been Percival's older brother; He was taller and looked stronger, but they were almost identical, down to the same shade of emerald green eyes that regarded Ramsay for a few moments. Mrs. Brimley, on the other hand, was a dark tan hare. Both of them were very well-dressed, the female lapine wearing a little black dress and high heels.

Ramsay immediately whipped off his cap respectfully as Mr. Brimley turned to look at the raccoon. "I was jus' leavin', sir," said Ramsay.

"Have you been paid?" asked Mr. Brimley, his face splitting into a merry smile as he extended a white hand. Ramsay hesitated before grasping it and shaking.

"Er, it's no trouble, sir," stuttered Ramsay.

"Good, then you can leave," huffed Mrs. Brimley with a frown as she pulled off her heels, her upper lip curling as if she'd just smelled something rotten and looked to Percival. "Look at him, Percy, he's filthy!"

Ramsay's ears drooped as he released Mr. Brimley's hand, the older rabbit regarding his son for a moment as Percival blushed. Mr. Brimley reached into his back pocket, removing a wallet and sifting through it. "Will thirty pounds be suitable, young man?" asked Mr. Brimley, his eyes twinkling jovially. Mrs. Brimley threw her hands into the air and stalked off as the white rabbit placed a few notes into Ramsay's palm. "Don't mind my wife, Mr...?"

"Er, Ramsay, sir. Ramsay Lakes." Ramsay stared at the money in his hand as Mr. Brimley clapped him on the shoulder, sending a cloud of soot rising and turning his palm black.

"Well, Mr. Lakes, thank you for kindly cleaning my chimney." Mr. Brimley leaned in, whispering. "Ginerva isn't fond of... Well, you saw her." He looked apologetic as he patted Ramsay's shoulder before straightening up. "And on behalf of my wife, I apologize."

Ramsay shook his head. "I'm used to it, sir." Mr. Brimley laughed, and Percival smiled at his father as the older rabbit placed his hand on Ramsay's back, leading him to the door.

"Well, I don't mean to kick you out, but it is very late, Mr. Lakes," said Mr. Brimley, and Ramsay smiled, placing his cap back on his head as he walked out the door.

"Just a moment, Ramsay," said Percival suddenly, pulling his father aside and whispering into his long ear. Ramsay blinked and stood as he watched them converse in hushed voices. Mr. Brimley let out a laugh, ruffling up Percival's scalp between his ears and leaving a large black smudge as he turned to Ramsay.

"How would you like to come back once every week or so to clean the chimney?" asked Mr. Brimley, winking at his son before turning to Ramsay again. "I'll have to settle it with my wife, but you'll be paid, of course."

Ramsay's mouth fell slightly open and the tip of his ringed tail ticked back and forth. Could he really be that lucky? "I-I don't want to cause any trouble, sir..."

"Nonsense! I won't take no for an answer, Mr. Lakes." The taller rabbit smiled, gave Ramsay a respectful nod, and slowly closed the door. The last thing Ramsay saw was Percival's eyes, which were watching the raccoon hungrily, and he swore he could spot the rabbit's pink tongue running across his lips.

Ramsay stood rooted to the spot for a few moments, stuffing the notes into his pocket before he turned, a smile playing across his lips. Yes, he thought, he might just take Mr. Brimley up on that offer...