Touch of Silver

Story by K.M. Hirosaki on SoFurry

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"Touch of Silver"

by K.M. Hirosaki ([email protected])

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is copyright © 2008 K.M. Hirosaki. Kyell Gold and Kit Silver appear with the expressed permission of their respective, real-world selves. Also, Kyell totally put me up to this. I swear.


Kit Silver had heard that the dry Chevali air was supposed to be absolute murder on his luxurious white pelt. He'd made an offhand attempt to account for this when getting ready for the game, but now that he was sitting up in the stands, exposed to the elements while watching the Firebirds lose to the Millenport Dragons, he realized that he hadn't accounted for it enough.

By contrast, the red fox sitting next to him still looked fantastic, in that special way that he always did. Though still technically early autumn, it was just cool enough for him to get away with wearing his little leather jacket, the one that so nicely accentuated his small, lithe body, and into which he dipped occasionally to pull out his tiny notebook and jot something down. Once or twice, Kit had tried to sneak a surreptitious glance at what the fox might have been writing, but the book had always disappeared back into the jacket pocket before the wolf could get a clear look.

He wanted to poke the fox, to remind him that he wasn't supposed to be doing any writing while the two of them were on this little trip of theirs together, but Kit supposed he could let something as simple as notetaking slide, at least for now. Besides, he'd warned the fox beforehand, and he was sure there wouldn't be any trouble.

Really, though, aside from that idle curiosity, it wasn't the notebook that was holding Kit's attention. No, that was pretty evenly split between the football game and the fox. Once of the nice things about football was that it came with built-in downtime, allowing one to shift gears back and forth between focusing on the game and on present company. The other nice thing about football was that, when the crowd was all worked up and fixated on an intense play, it means that folks were less likely to notice the fox's tail swish over to the left and brush gently against the wolf's own for just a moment or two.

Actually, the occasional tail-touch aside, Kit was happy that no one seemed to have noticed him yet. Doubtless, someone would recognize him before the end of the day, but not right now. Not just yet. The respite was a nice one. Anything to help him better enjoy football and his fox.

"Yeah, they're not going to pull this off," the fox said, eyes firmly locked on the field.

"Who isn't?" Kit asked with a smile. "The Firebirds or the Dragons?"

"Who do you think?" the fox replied, rolling his eyes. It was a silly question to have asked, on the surface, since it was Kit who'd decided that they fly down for the weekend to see Chevali play at home, but Kit did so like some of the reactions he could get when teasing the fox the way he did.

Leaning back on his paws, Kit said, "It's still only the third. It could go either way." A three-point lead was hardly insurmountable, after all.

"Chevali's defense is going to blow it for them," the fox said. "You can tell that they're already starting to get off their game."

The big white wolf nudged the little fox in the side. "You don't have any hope for them at all?" he asked.

"Not unless the Dragons manage to blow it somehow, no."

Kit clicked his tongue and looked back out onto the field at the next play. The Dragons had just rushed for a minimal gain. "I'll make you a bet."

"A bet for what?"

"I bet you that by the end of this quarter, Chevali returns either a punt or an interception for a touchdown."

Maybe it was the tone of the wolf's voice. Maybe it was the faint curl of a smirk he had. Or maybe it was the glimmer in his eye. Kit wouldn't be sure exactly what it was, but something had caught the fox's attention, and he now had his own smirk, his own glimmer in his eye. "And what are we betting?" the fox asked.

"Let's just bet."

"Well, what are the stakes?" the fox asked. His attention was nowhere near the game, now.

The wolf leaned back. "Let's just leave that out of the equation for now," he said. "Keep things a bit more interesting."

"With you," the fox said, "I'm not sure if I need things to be more interesting than they already are." He turned and gazed back out over the field. "But sure. You're on."

Kit Silver smiled and turned his own attention back toward the game.

And so it was, a mere three players later, that the Dragons' quarterback (a dashing young wolf whose good looks could have been rival to Kit's own when he was that age) threw a bullet of a pass that was picked off by a coyote who ran it back a full sixty yards for a touchdown--a touchdown that caused Kit's muzzle to twist into a broad grin just as it caused the fox's to drop.

"See?" the wolf said, slapping the fox on the shoulder. "Have a little faith."

The fox's mouth was still agape as he looked back and forth between the field and his companion. He attempted to start a question no fewer than three times, but each time just turned his head in the other direction. Finally, once his jaw was back in place and his tail had gone still, he asked, "Okay. What do you win?"

"You can tell me later," Kit said, smacking the fox's shoulder again, their tails touching one more time.

It was the fourth quarter, then, when Kyell got up the gumption to bring the matter of the bet back up again.

"Seriously," he said, a complete, unprompted non sequitur, "you could not have known that would happen."

"I never said I did," Kit replied. "It was just a bet."

"Yeah, but what are the odds?"

Kit chuckled. "The odds that one of the two entirely possible things I bet you might happen would happen?" He grinned at the fox. "You tell me."

"I just want to know why you're not more surprised," Kyell said.

At that, Kit leaned in close to Kyell, the suddenness of his movement making the fox go visibly tense. With the wolf's wider muzzle nearly pressed against the base of the fox's big, perked-up ear, he murmured, "Is that your way of insinuating that I'm not supposed to think I'm as clever as a fox?"

In total, the wolf hadn't been leaning in for more than a few seconds, but even still, he could sense the lovely shiver that overcame Kyell's body. He had to resist the urge to lick at the rim of the fox's ear, but cleverness aside, the stands at a football game weren't the place for that kind of affection.

Could they get away with holding paws? Maybe. The crowd would get more distracted as the game got more exciting, but--no, best not to push it just yet.

"I would never insult your cleverness," Kyell said, his marked lack of defensiveness betraying at least part of his intent.

"But you still wouldn't place it on par with your own," Kit teased. "Even in the face of losing a bet."

Kyell scoffed. "Hey, you're the one who's making it sound like I shouldn't be surprised that it's a bet that I lost." He was always so cute when he was indignant.

"And you're the one who's obsessing. You're not fretting about the stakes, are you?"

That caused the fox to verbally stumble before forming another clear retort. "You mean the stakes that you didn't even set?"

"With you," the wolf said, "I know that I don't have to."

"Was that supposed to be an example of some of your cleverness?"

This was the point where a certain fox would get pushed down onto the mattress had the two of them been in a bedroom.

"Are you going to tell me that you don't already have something in mind?" Kit made sure that Kyell couldn't meet his eye after saying that.

The gambit worked; after another few seconds of failing to issue a comeback, Kyell said, "Double or nothing?"

The scoreboard now had the Firebirds up eight points over the Dragons, and there was less than a full quarter to go. The energy in the stands amidst the home team fans was close to tangible, the dry Chevali air taking on a somewhat electric aura that could nearly set one's fur on end all by itself. "Okay, give me a few more plays," Kit said, "and I'll think of something." He liked the idea of doubling stakes that hadn't even been set yet; it would force an extra bit of creativity on the fox's part.

Assuming, of course, that the fox was the one who'd end up having to pay up. But Kit wasn't worried about that.

What would the best way to do this be, though? A vague, nebulous bet like the last one would just cheapen the whole thing. For a true double-or-nothing scenario, it would have to be a bet worth making. It would need to be just right.

Finally, third down left the Firebirds short of where they needed to be, and they started to line up for a field goal. "I've got it," Kit said, nudging Kyell with his shoulder. "I bet you this is gonna be a fake field goal."

The fox turned his head sharply. "What?" he yipped. "What reason would they--"

"Hurry up, fox," the wolf whistled. "Play's about to go down."

Kyell's tail was lashing wickedly, which fueled Kit's sense of satisfaction prematurely, he knew. The fox wouldn't have much time to decide, though, and so he-- "Okay, fine, you're on," Kyell said.

No sooner had that last word escaped the fox's lips than the Firebirds sprung into action. Kit's eyes were less on the field and more on Kyell, watching the look on the fox's face turn from shock to disbelief to downright awe as Chevali pulled off the fake field goal. From what he could see out of the corner of his eye, Kit guessed that Millenport's defensive line was only marginally less caught off guard than the fox sitting next to him was.

Kyell stammered wordlessly. Kit just stealthily patted the fox on the butt while the other fans surrounding them were busy leaping to their feet and cheering. "Double or nothing, you said," he murmured into Kyell's ear, and this time he did lick it softly before joining in with the chorus of clapping and cheering that they were soon caught up in.

"I can't believe it," Kyell said. "My brain almost wants to refuse to believe it."

They were leaving the stadium, now. Chevali had handily maintained their fifteen-point lead, and the wave of euphoria and elation carried the fans out like they were all somehow lighter on their feet for what had just transpired.

Now was when they had the window of opportunity to hold paws and bump into one another affectionately as they strode out alongside the mass of the crowd.

"You'd better not tell me that you have qualms about paying up," Kit said.

Kyell slapped the back of the wolf's leg with his tail. "I'd pay extra to hear how you did it."

"You'd pay extra anyway," the wolf replied, his elbow gently nudging the fox back into place at this side.

"So, what, you're just--" Kyell came to a sudden stop, then, when he noticed that Kit had done the same.

A small group had formed a semicircle around them now that they'd made it out into the parking lot. There were four of them, total: a pair of vixens (probably sisters, from the look of them), a wolf in a Firebirds jersey who was taller and yet who looked younger than any of her companions, and a male badger who was more visibly shy than any of the rest.

It was the wolf girl who spoke first. "Oh my god," she said, holding her paws clasped in front of her chest, "are you...?"

"Kit Silver, yeah," Kit replied with a nod. "Hi." He extended a paw for the shaking.

The wolf girl took it, as did both of the vixens. The badger contented himself with a quick wave and a silently-mouthed, "Hey."

"Oh my god," the younger wolf repeated. "You in town for the Firebirds game?" she asked.

Kit turned and looked over at Kyell briefly, who had stepped slightly off to one side. "Mostly," he said, and then he turned his attention back to the small cluster of fans, trying to clandestinely scope out signs that the tiny crowd might grow.

One of the vixens piped up with, "D-Do you have time for autographs?" The girl who Kit guessed was her sister shot her a look that seemed split between chastising her for being so stupid and yet simultaneously holding out hope that something might come of her request.

"Oh, well, you see, I..."

Four heads turned as one as Kyell cleared his throat, interrupting both the wolf and his fans' attentions. The pair of vixens seemed to freeze in place, in mid-ebullience. The wolf girl's ears and tail drooped. The badger, already far more subdued, just let his eyes find some random spot on the pavement.

"Er, never mind," the vixen said. "You're probably real busy, huh?"

"Kind of," Kit replied. "I mean, not that I'm too busy, but I--"

"No, it's okay. We won't bother you," the wolf girl said. "It was great meeting you, Mr. Silver." She paused, then added, "And, like, go Chevali!" Kit heard Kyell chuckle behind him.

With a series of awkward stops and starts, the micro-cluster of fans gravitated away from Kit and Kyell, dispersing back into the much larger crowd that was still pouring out of the stadium. That temporary obstacle out of his way, Kit started to walk faster, immediately feeling the fox fall into step alongside him, not protesting the accelerated pace one bit.

"Sorry about that," the wolf said, their rented car now in sight. "Looks like we should be clear to get out now, though."

"I'm actually surprised that no one else recognized you today," Kyell said as he circled around to the other side of the car, waiting for the wolf to unlock it. "You know, considering how popular and recognizable you apparently are."

Kit smiled at the fox and then opened his door. "Sometimes I'm lucky; sometimes I'm not," he said.

"Ah, but which of those times was this?" Kyell asked, wearing a smirk of his own as he climbed into the car as well. Kit didn't even try to resist the urge to lean over and give his fox a quick, tender kiss before getting the two of them out of there.

"Actually, I think I have an idea about why more people didn't notice me today," Kit said.

Kyell looked up at him as his paws worked at the wolf's fly. "And what's that?" he asked, already having scooted to the edge of the bed, looking like he was ready to slide off and drop to his knees any moment now (but Kit could be patient).

Hotel rooms were funny things. They never felt like home, really, but there were times like now when they still afforded a sense of intimacy and privacy, with just the tiniest threat that it might be broken.

"I blame you," the wolf said, ruffling the fox between his ears. He prided himself on being able to keep from sighing with relief as that pair of very practiced paws got his pants open. Kit could smell his own musk more strongly, now, and he smirked as he saw the fox's nose twitch just then, too.

Kyell slipped a paw into the opening of the wolf's pants. "Me? What did I do?" he asked. He started fumbling with the taut, bulging boxers in front of him, but he didn't have the best angle to see what he was doing.

"I think you're such a good-looking fox that people would pay more attention to you than to me." Kit had less success in stifling the groan he let out as Kyell finally did slip down onto his knees and got a more firm grip on his fat, full sheath.

"You think I'm that good-looking?" Kyell asked with a bright smile. His fingertips undid the little button at the front of the wolf's boxers, and he started trying to thread the wolf's dick out through it, but he was having a hard time getting it into position without bending the already quite firm shaft.

The wolf allowed a growl to slip into his voice. "I think you're pretty damn good-looking right now," he said, licking his own nose as kept a close eye on the fox, whose face was starting to get overtaken by concentration.

"Well, in that case," the fox murmured, "should you be blaming me or thanking me?" He gave up on trying to work with the too-small hole in the wolf's boxers, and instead just tugged the boxers down enough so that he could yank the thick shaft out directly.

Another growl escaped Kit's muzzle as he felt the waistband of his underpants pinch against the base of his shaft, but he couldn't bring himself to mind too much--not with the sight of his dick poking right out the front of his jeans, already drizzling, partly obscuring the slender fox's face. Would words ruin this? It was probably already a moment that was past ruining, the wolf reasoned, but he remained silent anyway.

Well, he remained silent for another second or two, at any rate, as he watched Kyell's muzzle come slowly, slowly, slowly into position, until just the very tip of the fox's wet, pink tongue gave the first of several featherlight tickles to the underside of his shaft. That first touch (the first touch was always the most special, even after so many times) resulted in the sort of happy sigh that Kit should have let out when Kyell had first gotten his pants open. There'd be plenty of time to catch up now, though.

Tiny licks turned into bigger licks--longer licks, more thorough licks--as the fox started to go to work. Technically, he was still teasing, and Kit knew that he'd go on with teasing for as long as he could (but not as long as might like before being unable to succumb to his own needs and urges). The fun part, for the time being, would be in seeing just how long this initial teasing period would last.

Kit had control of just about everything, after all, with the exception of Kyell himself. Oh, he might be in charge of the fox--especially as things stood right now--but that wasn't the same thing. The fox still had the element of surprise on his side. There was the question of whether the fox realized that, or if he realized it but didn't know how much of it he had, but that, too, was kind of thrilling for Kit.

That thrill, even if it might be a cheap one, made the sensation of a warm set of lips sliding down over the tip of his shaft feel even better. With Kyell trapped as he was in the narrow space between the bed and the wolf's body, it would be easy--trivial, even--for Kit to grab hold of the fox's head and take matters quite literally into his own paws, but again, that would be exerting too much control, and where would the fun be in that?

No, the fun was in letting his fox do the thing. The swipes of that lovely tongue got more urgent, pressed with more direct contact. Soon, there were kisses to follow, gentle pecks along the wolf's shaft, capped out with a quick suck right at the tip. That was the point where the two canids shared in the same moan of pleasure, and then the fox's head went down as the wolf's head went up.

This was one area where Kyell really shone. Kyell was the kind of fox who knew how to make a blowjob interesting, like it was something he hadn't done countless times before, like it was something that a wolf like Kit hadn't experienced countless times before, himself. That was skill: skill and beauty, the fox's head gliding slowly back and forth, his big, dark-furred ears canted just slightly in concentration, his lips forming just enough of a seal to provide suction and friction as they dragged along.

It was something Kit never tired of watching, either. His gaze was locked down at the fox, down there on his knees, working his snout with all his expertise. Sometimes Kyell would look up and they'd make eye contact; other times, there was just pure focus on the fox's part. In either case, Kyell's familiarity with what he was doing was unmistakable. Kit grabbed onto one of his fox's ears in appreciation, earning a soft squeak and quick, wet sputter for it.

The generic paintings that hung on the hotel room walls, the wallpaper itself, and even the too-firm bed may all as well have disappeared by this point. The lack of a romantic setting didn't matter, here, because as far as Kit was concerned, this was his own little world, a world that began with the top of his head and ended with the white-furred tip of the bushy tail that even now was continuing to swish and flick behind the oh-so-attentive fox's backside.

That tail was like some kind of devious metronome, setting a pace all its own that didn't at all match up with the simultaneous back-and-forth movements of Kyell's muzzle, preventing Kit from slipping into any kind of hypnotic trance, forcing him to stay alert, forcing him to pay attention to each bit of attention. The wolf bit his lip and tongue, letting a grunt slip out as a bit of tightness flared right behind the base of his shaft, a fresh surge of drizzle meeting the fox's tongue, right at the back, deep within his muzzle.

As if that new kick of arousal were some kind of cue, Kyell opened his eyes again and tilted his gaze upwards. His lips got looser, allowing his tongue more deliberate freedom to move as his warm paw reached up and grabbed Kit's still-growing knot. There was a playful squeeze, a swelling to accompany it, then another squeeze and yet another swelling to follow.

The muzzle-and-paw combination sent Kit's arousal into overdrive. Just because it wasn't a new sensation didn't make it any less amazing, and if the wolf were already lost here in this nondescript hotel room in Chevali, it certainly didn't prevent him from getting lost in his own lust, too. The urge to buck and thrust was overwhelming. There was a part of him that wanted to smack the fox's paw away so that he could grab hold of his own knot, squeeze nice and tight, and pump roughly in between those soft, pretty lips until he'd left them dripping, messily glazed with sloppy strands of white.

But no. He'd play fair. He let Kyell control the tugging and tweaking of his knot, let Kyell control just how he'd move his muzzle, sometimes letting his lips and tongue linger near the tip of the wolf's shaft, sometimes wrapping themselves in place further down so that he could twist and corkscrew with that pretty snout of his with just enough back and forth friction that it would take a force of nature bigger and more powerful than Kit Silver himself to resist outright and keep himself from--

--and the sheer force with which Kit slammed right into climax seemingly translated all the way down his spine, to his groin, out through his cock and right into Kyell's muzzle, where it struck the back of the fox's throat so hard that it made him cough and choke and pull back in surprise. So little seemed to ever catch Kyell by surprise, really, but only the smallest fraction of Kit's preoccupied consciousness could take any real glee in that, because the rest of him was so overwhelmed in the best of all possible ways.

Though the fox had pulled back, he hadn't pulled back completely, and after the initial (feral, unleashed, almost violent) shock had subsided, he'd been able to catch up, both to himself and to Kit, and had managed not to let anything spill out from his lips, except for perhaps that one tiny line of dampness that clung to one corner of his muzzle, which Kit couldn't be sure wasn't just drool from earlier.

The tension had broken.

For a moment that might well have been frozen, there was just the sight of Kyell, down on his knees, fingers wrapped gently around the wolf's bulging knot, lips remaining smoothly in place around the veined contours of the dick they'd been so lovingly servicing.

The tension had broken, and along with that came a brief break in any real perception at all.

"So, where were we again?" Kyell asked.

"Back before you were sucking me off?" Kit asked in return.

The fox smirked. "Back before the hotel room," he said. "Where I happened to end up sucking you off."

"I don't think that just 'happens,' fox," the wolf replied, trumping Kyell's smirk with one of his own. "Not with you, and not with me, either."

"Okay, I'll give you that."

"Of course you will," Kit said. "And I know that doesn't count as your payment for our bet."

"Of course," Kyell agreed. "I don't need an excuse to get you off." He tilted his head back and nosed the wolf's jaw. "But yes, the bet. That reminds me."

Kit raised an eyebrow. "Of what you think the stakes are worth?"

"Of what happened after the game, when we were leaving," Kyell said. "You getting stopped for being famous."

The wolf chuckled. "You were so cute," he said, ruffling the fox's head. "Trying to be all defensive and possessive."

Kyell grunted and brushed Kit's paw away, but only after the wolf was done teasing his fur. "Right, right," he said as he reached up to rearrange where he'd been tousled. "And here I'm supposed to be the distractingly-handsome fox?"

"Fine, so there are some things I can't blame you for," Kit said, drawing Kyell into a closer hug, kissing him on the cheek. "And I certainly don't blame you for what happened back there."

"I'm not jealous." Kyell's murmur was muffled as he nuzzled back against the wolf's cheek for a moment. "Just so you know."

That made Kit chuckle. "Jealous of vixens?" he said. "No, I'd wager not." He considered possibly palming and groping Kyell's crotch, but wasn't sure if that would be appropriate where they were (and at this point, it was hard to tell where they were).

There was a brief pause, and then Kyell asked, "Do you like it? Like, being famous and all?"

"I don't know if I'd say I'm 'famous,'" Kit replied. "Not as famous as I used to be, apparently."

"You don't need to change the details to rationalize things. I just wonder how it makes you feel," the fox said. "Having people you don't know come up to you who have this impression that they already know you."

The wolf hummed to himself. "It can be nice at times," he said. "But you know I don't enjoy their attention nearly as much as I enjoy yours." He allowed himself to relish the brief tingle he felt in his sheath at his so-recent memory.

"You'd better not enjoy anyone's attention as much as mine," Kyell quipped, his bright little eyes sparkling with playful mischief as he took the opportunity to smack Kit quickly on the butt.

"I think you have enough evidence to know that that's the case," the wolf replied. His tail was wagging openly, now.

Kyell tapped a blunt claw up between Kit's eyes, eliciting a quiet 'woof' in response. "Well, I can't read your mind," the fox said.

"No. But you are a fox," Kit said. "I know how clever you guys can be." His large paw grabbed hold of Kyell's hip and squeezed. "But come on," he added. "We should be moving on."

"Do you even know where you're going?" Kyell asked.

Chevali was long behind them, now, and they were back home, back to normal, everyday familiarity. "What, don't you trust me?" Kit asked as he led the way, his paws stomping along the pavement.

"I trust you," the fox replied. "I'm just curious where we're going."

"You'll see," Kit said. "And remember, you still owe me from back at the football game."

Kyell had to walk faster, now, to keep up. "I haven't forgotten," he said. "That doesn't mean I can't still ask questions."

"Don't worry," Kit said, stopping short all of a sudden, making the fox bump into his side. "This has nothing to do with our bet anyway. Not yet." He turned to watch Kyell look up to see where he'd stopped.

"An old-fashioned soda fountain?" the fox asked, blinking several times as if expecting the sight before him to disappear. "And just when did this open up?"

Kit shrugged, already beginning to head inside. "Not too long ago, I guess," he said. "Why, does that matter? Should I have mentioned it before?"

"You didn't have to, I guess," Kyell said as he followed along. "It might have been nice to have at least let me know it was here."

Stuffing his paws into his jacket pockets, Kit surveyed the oversized menu board. "Oh, come on," he said. "How often do I ever get to surprise you?"

"Calling a fake field goal right before it happens? That doesn't count as a surprise?"

"Fine. How often do I get to completely surprise you?"

Kyell chuckled. "Fine, fine. Fair enough." He leaned in against the wolf's side and lifted up onto tiptoe, following along with him to read the menu board together. "What did you want to get?"

"We could split a milkshake," Kit suggested.

"Can you get away with that?" the fox asked. "I mean, the famous Kit Silver, splitting a milkshake with another handsome guy in public?"

Kit turned and gave the fox a casual once-over. "I could just order you an ice cream cone and watch you eat it all nice and slow." As he finished saying it, the wolf tweaked the end of the fox's chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"Is that what you want to cash your bet in for?" Kyell replied, adding a playful nip toward the wolf's paw as it pulled away. "Because if you really want me to--"

"I'll tone down the 'famous' thing," Kit said.

"I'm not telling you that you can't be famous."

Kit grinned. "That doesn't mean that you want me to be."

"Does what I want play into this at all?" Kyell asked.

"It does in that I can't control what you want," Kit replied. "I have to figure that out for myself. Which is part of the fun."

Kyell waggled his eyebrows. "You know some of what I want, I'm sure."

"Some," Kit agreed, taking his turn to lick his lips coyly back at the fox. "But I'm guessing that part of it also involves me not being famous."

"Only if you didn't mind," Kyell said. "It'd make it easier for the story to focus on me being your fox and you being my wolf."

No, Kit couldn't control what Kyell wanted, but in the grand scheme of things, he could at least acquiesce to that--if only a little. "All right. The famous thing is out," the wolf said.

"You really don't mind?"

The wolf gave the fox a super-quick pat on the butt. "I don't mind as long as you're having fun, still."

Kyell leaned into Kit's side again. "Did you still want to watch me eat an ice cream all nice and slow in order to make it up to you?"

"Oh, you don't need to owe me anything else, I promise. And besides..." The wolf brought his muzzle closer to Kyell's ear. "You've already shown me what your muzzle can do."

The little fellow working the ice cream counter was another red fox, both shorter and younger than Kyell, with just the sort of bright-eyed, adorable enthusiasm that Kit thought might make the older fox jealous. Without making his sidelong glance back at Kyell too obvious, the wolf ordered up a large vanilla milkshake to share between the two of them, then trotted along to a corner booth.

"So why the sudden sweet, romantic gesture?" Kyell asked. He sneakily rubbed his toes against one of Kit's ankles under the table.

"Do I need a reason?" the wolf said, returning the teasing with his own foot. "Aside from the obvious, I mean?"

Kyell chuckled, and then murmured, "To a lot of people, 'the obvious' would be you getting me back into bed and energetically mounting me."

"Technically, you weren't in the bed earlier," Kit pointed out. "And if I really wanted to fuck you, I could just take you into the bathroom now and fuck you there."

It was at that moment, of course, that the other fox appeared at their table with their milkshake. His ears were canted back, and he showed just enough signs of a blush that there was no way he hadn't heard at least the very last part of that exchange. He murmured a quiet something that Kit didn't quite pick up, then scampered back for the counter.

In the wake of that untimely interruption, Kyell looked more nervous than he did embarrassed. "Are you going to do that?" he asked.

"Are you afraid that I might?" Kit clamped his lips down around the extra-wide straw.

"I'm just not sure what you can get away with."

"What I can get away with, or what I think can get away with?"

"Are those two things even different, right now?" Kyell asked.

Kit then offered his fox a reassuring smile. "I know I can't get away with making you do something you don't want to," he said. "Besides, you know I'm not going to wreck a romantic scene like this for you."

All of Kyell's anxiety fell away at once as his snout broke into another vulpine smirk. "Even if it'd be really hot?"

That response both amused and aroused Kit. "Tempting," he murmured with a smirk of his own, "but nah. Anything we did here would logically have to involve that other little fox back there stumbling upon us and probably getting involved." He narrowed his eyes and fixed them on Kyell's. "And we don't want other people to get 'ideas,' now, do we?"

Kyell took the straw in between two fingers, swirled it closer to him, and took a long, slow sip from the milkshake. "If they're your ideas, they might be dangerous," he said. "As I think you've amply demonstrated."

"Hey, your ideas are plenty dangerous, themselves."

"Yes, but those don't involve me." The fox's lips were curled in the shadow of a clever grin as they again wrapped around the straw once more.

Kit brushed his foot against Kyell's again, again enjoying the lack of any need to be subtle at this juncture. "Which is why I'm glad you're going along with me on this one," he said.

"You seem surprised," Kyell said as he flopped down onto the couch, "that I'd trust you enough to go along with an idea of yours."

Kit joined the fox on the couch, sitting close, but not so close. "Well, my ideas aren't as good as your ideas."

"Nobody's ideas are perfect," Kyell said, and then he rubbed a bare foot up against the wolf's thigh. "I'm not sure there is such a thing as a perfect idea, to be honest."

The wolf looked over at the fox as he absentmindedly brushed that foot. "Did we leave the soda fountain too soon?" he asked. "Should we have stayed longer?"

"I liked the soda fountain," Kyell insisted. "It was cute. But you were right: after the romantic tension broke, it was going to be hard to get it back."

"You don't blame me for that, do you?" Kit asked.

The fox shook his head. "It was plenty romantic at the beginning," he said. "Besides, it's not like you need to worry about me not being crazy for you."

At that, Kit reached out, grabbed hold of one of Kyell's arms, and pulled the fox bodily up into his lap and locked muzzles with him for a quick yet passionate kiss. "If I was worried about that," he murmured to the fox, "we wouldn't be doing any of this, now, would we?"

Smiling and getting comfy in his new position, Kyell draped his arms around the wolf's neck and broad shoulders, tail wagging briskly behind him. "I certainly like where 'this' is going."

"You knew I couldn't hold out forever," Kit growled before nudging the fox's head down with his muzzle so that he could get at one of those lovely ears with his lips and tongue.

Mustering the words out through a breathy gasp of his own, the fox replied, "Hey, you already got off once; how do you think I feel?"

Kit shifted his knees, propping the fox up a little higher so that he had room enough to reach down and grope him between the thighs. "Not as hard as I was expecting," he teased.

Kyell was, of course, at least somewhat hard already, and he was rapidly getting more so as he squirmed accommodatingly against the wolf's big paw. "Trust me," he muttered, tucking his snout in against the side of Kit's throat, "I'm not going to do anything to defy your expectations."

"Perfect," Kit said, lapping at the fox's cheek a few times before starting fidget with the finicky belt buckle under his fingers. "That means I've got it all under control."

"Don't push it," Kyell grunted, but his voice was quiet, weak, and not exactly convincing. What was more convincing was the whine he let out when Kit deliberately slowed down his efforts to get the fox's pants open. Grinning at the sight of that unevenly-lashing tail, the wolf rubbed the side of his thumb up and down the ridge formed by the vulpine's trapped sheath, delighting in the more urgent squirming coming from those hips.

Kit began to chuckle at how wound up he'd gotten his fox. "I'm gonna get you back for this," Kyell growled, but again, his voice was tinged with a resigned, submissive sound.

"Sure you will," the wolf said. "But not until after we're done with this." Then, both to be nice and because his own arousal wasn't going to wait much longer, either, he pulled Kyell's belt free and tugged his zipper down with less patience.

The air was filled with a warm gasp and the scent of fox musk. Dampness had soaked through the front of Kyell's underwear, and Kit brushed his thumb over that spot as he kissed the fox on the nose. "You're still wearing that jacket, huh?" the wolf said, hooking his paws onto either side of it. "I should probably get rid of that."

And so Kyell leaned back as he let Kit peel that jacket off of his arms, his toned, slender torso on perfect display for the wolf, his tented underpants sticking out from the split-aside flaps of his fly. It was a mental image that Kit knew he'd want to revisit later, which wasn't going to be a problem. His paws grabbed the fox under the arms, then, holding and squeezing tight, pulling him close once more so that the two of them could kiss again.

It was like Kyell had been waiting for days to unleash all his pent-up passion on the wolf. He let out a hungry snarl as he seized his lover's muzzle in his own, tongues intertwining, paws and claws tracing and trailing over familiar territory. His whole body writhed in Kit's hold, in Kit's lap, and it felt like he was a bundle of tension and energy that might explode out of its vulpine shell at any moment.

But again, there some things that were still under Kit's control, and he was going to make sure that this was one of them.

Yanking Kyell's arms up, Kit made sure to get the fox's shirt off, next, and then let his fingers lavishly stroke and curl through that wonderful, soft fur that had been hidden underneath. Both Kyell's breathing and heartbeat got faster, and his tail began to smack against the armrest of the couch over and over without abandon. With a growl, Kit brought his muzzle in to the crook of the fox's throat, his lips and teeth practically attacking the spot where the shoulder met the neck. He could feel both the fox's pounding pulse as well as the drawn-out groan against his tongue.

"So," Kit asked, beginning to lay the fox out onto his back, down there on the sofa cushions, "at this point, is it more poignant and romantic to pick you up and carry you off to bed, or do we just continue here and--"

"If you even try to put off fucking me any longer," Kyell interrupted, but before he could finish his full statement, Kit cut him off with another kiss as he bent down over the fox. As they locked muzzles once more, Kit's paws started to work Kyell's open pants down past his hips and over his thighs, making sure to drag the underwear with them. The kiss then broke soon thereafter, and Kyell let out a yip as his legs were turned up at nearly a right angle to the couch, pants and underpants yanked free of his ankles and tossed onto the floor to be forgotten.

All other details of the living room were soon forgotten as well, since Kit now only needed to focus on the fact that he had a naked fox here on the couch with him. The sight of him was gorgeous, just like it always was, but familiarity didn't make it any less special--or any less beautiful. Still fully clothed, for his own part, Kit started to work at getting his belt buckle open, and he was actually surprised (not for the first time in the last however-long) that Kyell decided to lean back and just watch instead of helping out. The pair of canids just exchanged grins, though, neither taking any issue with the other, and soon, the scent of wolf musk was pervading the air as well, not entirely overpowering Kyell's scent, which by now already had Kit well entranced in a willing allure.

With some more squirming, Kit's pants were partway down his thighs, along with his boxers. The wolf licked his lips in satisfaction when he saw Kyell's ears flick just ever so slightly backwards at the sight of his sheath, along with half of his cock already poking free of it. Pretending to brandish it threateningly, Kit grabbed hold of it by the base, rolling his sheath back as the heat of the moment got him stiff and eager with little trouble.

There were no words exchanged; the look in Kyell's eyes told Kit that he was ready, ready for the wolf to part his legs, wrap them around himself, and get into a more dominant (and more convenient) position atop him. The tip of the wolf's leaking shaft teased and tickled at the fox's balls, just as the tips of his fingers teased and tickled along the fox's length. There was again a needy whine, and while there were still no words, that didn't mean that there wasn't still begging.

Kit nudged his way lower, and Kyell, left only with the leverage that the wolf afforded him, did all he could to assist with that. Soon (soon enough), the wolf's hard, thick length was rubbing down in between the fox's thighs, the wet tip leaving a damp, visible trail in the narrow strip of fur that led all the way down to the root of that bushy tail. There were still decisions for Kit to make, but the more subtle ramifications of each of them were blurring away, and he was close to deciding that minute differences no longer mattered, at this point.

Kyell seemed to think similarly; the agonizing closeness to a full-on mating was visibly driving him at least partially crazy with a sort of lust that Kit treasured. It wasn't as if the wolf didn't have his own needs, either, and the sight of his own plump pink shaft contrasted against the soft white that lined the inside of Kyell's thighs was making a pretty convincing argument as to what he should do next.

One question that still lingered in Kit's mind was how much control he had over how strongly Kyell's body would react to his insistence. That part wasn't entirely clear. He got himself into position, though, his tip nestled up in between the fox's balls and tail, and he looked his lover in the eye.

Both of them were biting their lips, at least a little, and that was enough to put Kit at ease. He squeezed Kyell's hip with one paw, then slid his fingers down along the outside of that thigh as he started to push, using just his own natural lubrication to work his way inside. The air of the room was pierced by the fox's ensuing gasp, which was immediately followed by Kit just pushing harder.

"Oh, God," the fox groaned, grabbing hold of the wolf's arm and wrist. "You're so lucky I'm letting you get away with this." The jibe lost force, though, as Kit continued to work his way in, still steadily, but more slowly, now, not wanting to push his luck, not sure how far his luck would even extend.

A combination of slickness, practice, and that same luck and degree of control soon had Kit's cock stuffed more than just a few inches deep into the fox beneath him. For a few seconds, he didn't even need to push his way deeper, able to just keep still and milk pleasure from the way that Kyell squirmed and wriggled beneath him, the fox's snug little rear passage creating a lovely bit of smooth friction just from that. Patience, though, quickly became a fading virtue, and so Kit bent along his spine and dipped down to catch up Kyell's muzzle in his own, earning a two-toned, double-staged squeak as he plunged his tongue into his fox's muzzle while simultaneously plunging his shaft deeper into his rump.

Kit wasn't sure whether it was Kyell who pulled away from the kiss, or if it was himself, but whatever the case, the separation of muzzles made the fox's head and shoulders jerk back, which in turn made his hips and lower body push up, right up against the wolf's lap. It felt to Kit as if he'd thrust on his own accord, but the stillness in his own hips created a dissonance in his brain, and that made the shock of the sensation even more pleasurable.

Reaffirming his grip on Kyell's hips, Kit pushed down, forcing them down into the cushion beneath. Bearing his weight into his arms and holding the fox in place, the wolf then thrust downward, getting an inch or so deeper than before. The next thrust got him even deeper and made the fox cry out a little harder. There was some element of discomfort, yes, but that wasn't the bulk of what rung in the wolf's ears--no, what Kit heard most were the sounds of a fox who was getting just what he wanted.

Well, not just what he wanted; not quite yet. For that, Kit needed to thrust a little harder (like so), needed to push a bit deeper (he bit his lip as his put more force behind his hips), needed to get the right bit of twist into his movements (like the kind right there, the kind that made the fox's eyes roll up into the back of his head a little).

Since Kyell's hips were pinned to the sofa now, there was no need for Kit to continue using his paws to hold them there, which allowed him to slide those paws up, following the fox's sides, feeling the quivering and trembling beneath his fingers. The wolf was bent down almost far enough for them to kiss, but he didn't close that gap yet, preferring to watch the fox's whiskers flutter back in the wake of his warm breath blowing down on them. Hints of gold appeared and disappeared with a flicker due to Kyell's eyelids' inability to keep still.

The fox's face disappeared from easy view entirely, then, when he tilted his head back as Kit lifted his legs back up. The wolf looked down the length of his own body, down at his own shaft, watching as it sank into the fox's tight rear, pulled back into view, and then did the same again, and then again, and--

Kit screwed his eyes shut and blocked out the outside world so that he could just revel in the moment. He didn't need to keep his eyes open to know what Kyell looked like right now, his smaller, more elegant body shuddering underneath him as he fucked the fox--as he made love to the fox, snarling with lust and with passion, and when he did open his eyes again, it was like the colors and the textures of everything surrounding the fox had become more real.

Now, the wolf was more aware of the plushness of the cushions beneath his legs, and not just of the plushness of the fox's fur. He payed more attention to the soft, muted brown of the couch that served as a backdrop for the brighter, autumnal colors of the fox's pelt, finding that that hue balanced well with the chocolately brown-black and fiery russet and occasional sprinkle of gold. There were more smells, too: the faint hints of the morning's pot of coffee wafting in from the kitchen, the lived-in, blurred-together canid scent that emanated from the furniture, and, of course, the more piercing, more immediate musk of both a fox and a wolf tickling nostrils and taste buds alike.

Kit's thrusts took on a more rolling, rhythmic nature, the fox gasping and squeaking and sometimes even whimpering as the wolf took him. One of Kit's paws teased and stroked Kyell's muzzle while the other checked on the fox's shaft, finding it already quite hard, quite leaky, with the knot approaching fullness more and more with each jerk of the wolf's own hips. He gave that knot a squeeze, then just stroked and petted the shaft itself with a lighter touch, intentionally breaking pace and cadence with that of his thrusting, and soon his own knot was swelling as well, starting to bump and kiss against the root of the fox's tail.

With his feet and toes curling up on either side of Kit's head, Kyell let his muzzle hang open as he just breathed and gasped and rode it out. The wolf worked his knot a little bit harder with each new, more urgent thrust. Now was when he knew he needed to concentrate less, needed to just go with instinct, to forget pesky details again and just do what came natural. Now was when he decided to lose himself in the fox's eyes again--well, when he could catch them--and just breathed, breathed and let himself go on autopilot, until the squeaks became moans, the moans became groans, and the groans became squeaks all over again and the wolf was inside.

Kyell suddenly snatched one of Kit's wrists in his paw, then yanked his arm down between his legs, practically forcing the wolf to grab hold of his knot. Chuckling through a gasp of arousal, the wolf was only too happy to oblige, squeezing hard and simulating a tie for the fox's benefit, hoping to give them both something resembling the same sensation. It wouldn't be quite the same, Kit knew, but that wouldn't matter for very long, and true to his predictions, a few firm tugs at that knot were enough to Kyell to make a mess of himself, white streaks splattering the white fur of his undersides, seeming to disappear where they landed.

Kit grabbed Kyell's torso up into his arms and pulled him close. He kissed and mouthed at the crook of the fox's neck again as he growled and grunted and bucked his hips in a series of jerking half-thrusts, his nicely-trapped shaft never making it back very far. That tight seal kept things nicely contained as the wolf came nice and hard, holding the smaller canid's form as tight as he could against his shuddering frame as he emptied himself, physically and cathartically, and kept that hold a little longer than he needed to before ultimately collapsing atop his fox right there on the couch.

"That was wonderful," Kyell murmured into Kit's ear, sometime later, the wolf not sure just how long.

"Was it enough?" Kit asked, nosing into the vulpine's cheek. He could still smell the musk of arousal, though it had faded somewhat in the undetermined interim.

The fox licked the corner of Kit's mouth. "When are you ever not enough for me?"

"You know what I mean," the wolf chuckled.

"And you know what I mean. That was just fine."

"Even the whole 'famous Kit Silver' thing?"

One of Kyell's fingers poked underneath Kit's ribs. "Trust me," the fox said. "I derailed that for your own good. You don't want to be too famous."

"Foxes are supposed to be cleverer than wolves," Kit said. "That's why I keep you around."

"That's not the only reason," Kyell replied, wriggling his hips around the wolf's cock--apparently, they were still tied, which came as another surprise to Kit.

Humming with contentment, the wolf snuggled closer to the fox again. "I still feel like I could have done a little better."

"I'm telling you, you did fine," Kyell insisted.

"The details weren't all there," the wolf pointed out. "Nothing went anywhere. It could have been so much better."

"Don't worry about the individual details," Kyell said. "The overall experience was still really nice."

"Thanks to you helping me out with course-corrections."

A hint of a guilty smile appeared on the fox's muzzle. "Hey, there was only a little bit of that," he said. "I didn't want to ruin what was fun for you."

"You're what's fun for me," Kit said with a nuzzle.

For a while, Kyell said nothing, though Kit swore he could hear the sounds of the gears working inside the fox's head as he lay there and thought. With a poke from his nose, then, Kyell said, "Well, since you won your bet, I could let you have another turn."

Kit laughed. "I'm not sure I've got another turn in me right now," he said, wiggling his own hips, finding that the tie had begun to ease up a bit.

"Not like that," Kyell said with a giggle. "I mean, like, another turn at this whole thing."

Double or nothing. That's what the fox had said.

In the growing dark, Kit looked into Kyell's eyes. "Are you sure?" he asked, both hopeful and anxious. "You're better at this sort of thing than I am."

"I'm sure," Kyell said. "And honestly, you're not as bad as you think. I still can't figure out how you did what you did back at the football game."

Kit chuckled and kissed his fox on the nose. "That's driving you crazy, isn't it?"

"Are you going to tell me?"

"I could. If you win another bet." He pressed his nose hard against the fox's. "But even if you do, do you really want to ruin the magic?"

There was still just enough light left for Kit to see Kyell's little smile. The wolf decided that it was okay to let things fade to black after that.