Companions Chapter 31: Dysfunction Junction
#32 of Companions
[Companions Chapter 31]
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WARNING! The following text contains explicit adult subject matter. It is not intended for anyone under the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18, then you must stop reading now. The author has taken steps to ensure that this story does not appear in any subject-inappropriate or age-inappropriate forum. This version has been posted with the author's permission to Yiffstar.com.
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* _COMPANIONS_
* by Evoquus
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* (c) Copyright 2003, Evoquus, All rights reserved.
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* Feedback is appreciated: [email protected]
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Rating: NC-17 for explicit sex: M/M, Human-Stallion, Anal, Oral
Chapter 31: Dysfunction Junction
The first rays of another beautiful dawn set aglow the lazing tree tops of the picturesque land known to some as Hipponaur. This place was not on any map that one might obtain from a gas station, Triple-A, or the internet for that matter. And if perchance someone did happen to note the GPS coordinates of Equine Eden, then chances are that by the time the land of Hipponaur had been surveyed and mapped and fenced off with "US Government No Trespassing" signs, it would have moved on to another undisclosed location a hundred or so miles in some other undisclosed direction. The folks who lived here loved their privacy, and the only way to maintain their privacy was to not let anyone know that they lived here, and the only way to do that, was to not let anyone know that they lived at all.
For thousands of years this model worked as designed, but the encroachment of mankind in the last hundred has tested it, chipped away at it, analyzed its weaknesses, and like a horde of Argentine ants, infiltrated through the most imperceptible of cracks. Though, like ants, humans are a social lot, they are not very ant-like in one key respect: Should one happen across a freshly-baked blueberry pie cooling on an open windowsill, one is not likely to dash back home to tell the queen and her four million progeny of this fortuitous find; one is far more likely to sneak off with the booty and pig-out all alone with gluttonous abandon. Ironically, it is this self-indulgent nature of man, to hoard it all for himself, that has saved the race of Hipponaur from certain annihilation.
Fred McHenry had no idea in what direction Destiny's compass pointed, except that it was on the same bridle path as his Companion's. The Clydesdale known as Azgard was not an opportunity that knocked for Fred, for opportunities like Azgard simply did not ever happen, much less announce themselves. That Fortune chose to shower the man with such a priceless treasure was beyond the realm of possibility, and Fred would never insult the god of luck by taking his blessing for granted. He and Azgard would be one, today and tomorrow and the next day and the next, and Fred would show to all watching from above that this blessing was not wasted upon him. He asked for nothing more, other than to keep what had already been bestowed. Surely that was not asking too much, his left brain told his right, but his heart, whom neither half consulted, ached with the dull pang of guilt-ridden avarice.
At some time during the night, the unconscious man had crawled out of his sleeping bag and snuggled into the chest of his unconscious stallion, who had gently wrapped his tremendous head around him to keep him safe and warm inside a deteriorating tent that provided less and less shelter with each passing minute. That his bed had grown fur was an unexpected and no less delightful surprise that greeted him when he awoke, for it made his sleeping bag as obsolete as his tent.
He sighed happily into his horse and kissed the strong neck softly, not wanting to wake the gentle beast, his mate, his lover, his god that was reshaping him. The hidden world in which they lived was the equine equivalent of Mount Olympus, populated by divinities with the same human failings as man, and with just as much vanity, for they would never admit it. Fred loved them, admired them, would give his life to save any one of them, even Daniel Racher who wasn't truly Hipponaur, though he hoped he would never have to make that decision.
Yet, Fred also felt that he did not truly belong here. Perhaps the orthogonal course his life has just zigged was too overwhelming to comprehend in such a short period of time; that once he finished bonding with his mate, his heart might be more accepting of this destiny. Jeremiah seemed perfectly comfortable remaining in Hipponaur, and Daniel really had no other choice. But Fred was certain that his and Azgard's destiny forked in a different direction. If they met up with Hipponaur several miles ahead, so be it, but for now, he thought it best to steer his steed off the complacent path of his friends and blaze a new trail on their own.
Quietly, he escaped the confines of his mate and packed up his things to get an early start on the lengthy trip home. It wasn't long before the stallion noticed he was missing.
Azgard shimmied out of the tent and stood up to stretch, but instead of his normal morning cheer, he greeted his Companion with a worried, "Are you leaving?"
Fred smiled at him. "Not without you."
That cheered him up. "So am I to meet my in-laws after all?"
"That's the plan. But my parents' place is a long ways away, so we'd better get a-going."
"How can I help?"
The man chuckled at him. They both knew that his offer to assist with packing was as empty as a teenager's promise not to cum in his girlfriend's mouth.
"Just stand there and try not to look sexy. Otherwise, it'll slow me down."
"Okay," said the stud with loud a fart.
Fred burst out laughing at his loveable equine and stopped to give him a hug.
"Sorry, Companion," said Azgard. "I didn't think you would find that sexy."
"I guess I shouldn't make such impossible requests."
Fred's joviality attracted the unwanted attention of two souls out for an early morning trot. "Oh, crap," he grumbled, as Jeremiah and Parceph rode up.
"You leaving us, City-boy?"
Fred smiled up at him but failed to suppress a hint of disappointment that his plans for a clean getaway had been foiled. "Afraid so, Jerry."
"Hope it's not somethin' I said."
"No, no, it has nothing to do with you," he said, heaving his packs onto Azgard. "It's just that if I don't head back soon, the Warden's gonna call in the National Guard."
"Warden?"
"My ex."
"Oh."
Fred cinched the packs tight and tested their stability. "Is that comfortable?"
"It is tolerable, Companion," said Azgard.
"That was a really creepy campfire story, Jerry," said Fred, awkwardly trying to maintain polite conversation.
"Give ya nightmares?" grinned the young old man.
"Nah. The only nightmares I get have to do with daily life stress."
"Whassat?"
"You know, being naked in public, finding out your girlfriend is pregnant, getting caught with a horse and your pants down, that sort of thing."
Jeremiah scratched his head. "You call them nightmares? Hell, sounds like a pretty good barn raisin' to me."
"Yeah, well... heh-heh, I suppose it would."
Jeremiah slid off his mount. "Can I he'p ya out, Partner?"
"No thanks, I'm almost done. Though I'm not sure what to do with this tent. It's basically worthless."
"May I have it?" perked up Parceph.
"Whadaya want that torn-up ol' turd tarp for?"
"Are you kidding, Companion? It's great! Just think of all of the new ways we can debase ourselves."
"I cain't think of a one," said Jeremiah to his deviant mate.
"You're not trying very hard," said Parceph nosing his way in. He shimmied inside trying not to make things worse, then maneuvered about under the nylon until he found himself in a suitable position, pushing his butt through one of the rips and his mouth through another.
"We could play 'Glory Holelujah.' You have your choice of Glory Hole Number One, Glory Hole Number Two, or if you're feeling saucy, choose your own mystery hole in search of personal glory."
Jeremiah shook his head. "You are one hopeless hoss."
"If you want it, Parceph, it's yours," said Fred graciously.
"Woo-HOO!"
Fred grabbed onto the strapped packs and pulled himself onto Azgard's back. "Well, see ya Jerry, Parceph. Say good-bye to everybody for us."
"Why doncha say it y'self?" scolded Jeremiah.
"Well... I would, but they're not here."
"Listen, City-boy, you go find 'em and bid farewell proper. They're your friends and you're gonna need 'em. And don't be a stranger."
Fred was taken aback by the acerbic tone of the normally genteel cowboy. "Is there something I should know, Jerry?"
"Probably."
He waited a short while longer for more details, and didn't really care at all when none were forthcoming. "In that case, do you think you could point us in the direction of my newfound friends so that I can bid farewell proper?"
"Sure thing. Be happy to join ya." Jeremiah hopped onto Parceph who was still admiring his haggard acquisition. The stallion was quite pleased to do this small favor for Fred.
As they trotted side-by-side, the silent tension between the men was broken by the comic relief of the chasm that separated their riding skills. Fred bounced all over Azgard, grasping both packs with white knuckles, while Jeremiah yawned and picked at his fingernails, riding bareback on his stallion as if he were a centaur.
"You ride very well," hiccuped Fred.
"Y'all get the hang of it after ridin' the same nag for a couple hunerd years. One good thing 'bout goin' bareback: no saddle, no sores. Try it nekkid sometime, less'n ya think it'll give ya nightmares."
"I will certainly consider it, once the blisters have all callused over."
Virtual Daniel and Rovaun were diligently devouring each other's saliva when the two men rode up.
"Good morning, Rovaun, Danny," said Fred.
Jeremiah dismounted and cleared his throat while glaring at Fred.
"What?"
"Ain't you forgettin' someone?"
Fred looked around but could see no one else in the near vicinity.
"Good morning, Jerry?"
"Not me, ya pie chucker!"
"Parceph?"
"Sweet dancin' 'dillos," he muttered, rolling his eyes.
"There's no one else here!"
"Then you best be getting y'self a new pair of specs 'cause the darlin' is standin' right in front of yer beak." He indicated the docile black mare.
"I said 'good morning' to Danny."
"Danny-boy is over THERE."
Fred heaved a sigh, partly out of frustration, but mostly out of tremendous relief that this stupidity was now over. "Good morning, DANIELLE," he said, with a double helping of syrup.
Daniel chuckled.
"Now was that so hard?"
Fred decided to ignore Jeremiah for the rest of his life. "Sorry to interrupt you two."
"That's all right, Fred," said Daniel. "We were just seeing how long we could kiss before someone interrupted us."
"Then y'all got a few decades to go b'fore you beat Flycatcher 'n me's record," boasted Jeremiah. Parceph smiled sadly to himself. He wished it was he who had made that record with his Companion, not some other-dimensional twin. Nevertheless, he raised his head and sighed happily. Records were made to be broken.
"Azgard and I are taking off. We just wanted to say good-bye."
"Whereabouts are you headed?"
"My parents have an orchard about fifty miles west. I can board Azgard there until we figure out how to swing the living arrangements."
"For some reason," said Azgard sarcastically, "my Companion is too embarrassed to let me stay in his apartment."
"Oh yes," countered Fred. "The place is so bourgeois. Curtains don't match the hand towels. Utensil drawer has only one slot for both salad AND dinner forks. I'd never hear the end of it."
"Heh-heh, well have a safe journey. I know you and Azgard will be very happy together."
"Thanks, Danny. The same to you."
"Oh, and Fred, please be careful in Man's world. I didn't last a week before humanity put a bullet in my chest."
"That was not your fault, Companion," said Rovaun.
"Does it really matter, Husband? The end result was the same."
"We'll be careful," said Fred, patting Azgard's neck. "He knows he's just a big ol' non-speaking horse once we hit the highway."
"We will take your advice seriously, Danny," said Azgard. "In any event, if my Companion should meet a fate similar to yours, I have already taken the necessary precautions to ensure his continued existence."
"Let's all hope it never comes to that," said Jeremiah ominously.
Daniel reached up to shake Fred's hand. "I hope you'll come back to visit."
"We will. Azgard's friends are here..." Fred turned to Jeremiah and bulged his eyes for emphasis. "... and so are mine."
Jeremiah nodded with a smile, thankful for the acknowledgement even though it was served with a super-sized side of sarcasm.
Daniel gave Azgard an affectionate embrace. "You promised me one hug per day for the rest of forever. I'm going to keep track of all the ones you owe me while you're away."
"And I promise to pay them back with interest, Danny," said the Clydesdale. "My Companion and I are very fortunate to have you as a friend."
"Thank you all for turning my life into an adventure," said Fred. "It's just too wonderful for words... and... I HATE good-bye speeches which is why I wanted to get the hell out of Dodge before dawn!"
"Git! Skeedaddle! Get along li'l dogie!" Jeremiah waved him off, giving him permission to leave.
"Okay we're out of here."
Azgard and Fred headed for the highway as everyone offered hearty well-wishes and waved good-bye. Jeremiah seemed especially concerned about their destiny.
"I sure wish he coulda stayed just a little longer," he said like a worried parent.
"The man's got a life."
"And whadaya call THIS, Danny-boy!?" Jeremiah spread his arms to embrace the land around them.
"This!?" laughed Daniel. "This isn't a life! This is the AFTER-life. And we made it Jerry, thank God."
Jeremiah frowned at him, but then lightened up and sighed at the distant rider returning to his purgatory.
"Fred's a smart guy, Jerry. He knows what's at stake if he gets careless. Plus he's got Azgard to look out for him."
"Yeah... I s'pose." Jeremiah smiled at Parceph and slapped his neck. "I saw you just now, an' I knowed what you is thinkin'!"
"And what would that be, dear Companion?" asked Parceph feigning ignorance.
"You want what Danny-boy was givin' that thar stud of his, only more of it!"
"Several decades more?" he whickered.
"Yep. We may's well git started." Jeremiah kissed him wetly on the lips. "That was a tiny li'l speck a seed. Let's make it sprout into a towerin' redwood."
Fred was in no real hurry to get home, but he was in a hurry to get away. He found Daniel and Jeremiah intimidating and not particularly useful as Hipponaur-bonded human role models. Daniel was an emotional landmine and Jeremiah, with his two hundred plus years of experience, seldom produced any pearls of wisdom worth pocketing. No, he convinced himself, he and Azgard were better off on their own. Fred patted his mount who diligently plodded the earth beneath them. The mammoth Clydesdale was gentler than any creature he had known, and equally as powerful. As long as they stayed together, they would be fine.
And as long as Azgard didn't speak.
But that was a misconception, because Hipponaurs didn't actually speak, vocally. They communed by transmitting their thoughts. Usually, only those that were bonded could "hear" them, and after a while, the brain adjusted so that it seemed like the Hipponaur voices were truly being heard by the ear. It was the human reply that always required a vocal response. If anything, it was Fred who had to be careful about speaking to Azgard, for only his side of the conversation could be recorded.
He marveled at how amazing it was to be able to read the thoughts of his mate, but there were still limitations - he could only receive what was intentionally sent. He wasn't receiving anything from Azgard at the moment, perhaps because the stallion wasn't thinking anything. However, people generally thought things all the time; it's almost impossible not to, even when sleeping. And then there was linking - an entirely different level of communication. Not just words, but images, sounds, sensations and emotions. That could be far more intimate than sex! The man smiled again at the adventure unfolding before him.
"Azgard, are you able to link with me?" he asked, making his thoughts known to the Hipponaur that could not read his either.
"In all likelihood, Companion."
"Have you ever tried?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"It is unethical to link with someone without his prior knowledge and consent."
Fred snickered at Azgard's ethics. After all, the ethical stallion had raped his mouth when they first met.
"Did you think I wouldn't consent?"
"It is not that, Companion. I simply have not felt the need to link with you yet. It can be a very disturbing experience to the uninitiated."
"Disturbing... as in dangerous?"
"The link itself is not dangerous, but it can impair your judgement. In which case, depending on the information transmitted, you can become a danger to yourself."
"So, say if you were a bird that linked with me, I might then try to fly out of a tree?"
"Essentially that is the risk, but when we decide to link, you can be sure that I will keep the topic benign and harmless until you are better able to cope."
"Will I be able to link with you, too?"
"Someday, I believe so, but not necessarily to the same extent. Jeremiah can link with Parceph on a basic level. Linking is simply a higher form of communing, which is what we are already doing."
"But I still have to use my mouth."
"And you use it very well."
"Heh-heh, you're pretty talented with yours, too."
Azgard stopped and set down to let his rider dismount.
"What's up?"
"I have decided it is time to link with you."
Fred found himself filling with nervous anticipation, imagining that this was what it felt like to be a virgin bride on her wedding night. "Um... okay, what do I do?"
"Just sit down and relax."
With his heart drumming-rolling in his ears, Fred crossed his legs and sat down in front of the stallion, who whickered softly to calm the man's nerves. Then a mildly uncomfortable high-pitched whine built inside his head. Delivered on its carrier wave was an orchestrated suite of emotions, primarily dominated by love for his human mate and sexual excitement brought on by the unseen man that tickled his huge phallus with a tiny tongue. Fred snorted and thrust his groin forward trying to force his gargantuan cock down the miniscule throat of his invisible lover, but his much smaller real-life cock remained confined, straining painfully under his jeans. Grunting in rut, he tugged on his belt and ripped open his pants, dislocating the zipper on his fly. Azgard decided that was enough for now.
"Wh... what... no... don't stop!"
"Easy, Companion."
The heaving man fell forward on hands and knees with his pants halfway down his legs. After skydiving back down to Terra Firma, he reached into his briefs and re-adjusted the brass pipe.
"That was... intense."
"It is, Companion," winked his mate. "It is how I feel every time you use that mouth of yours."
Fred leered at his stud with eyes ablaze. "Azgard... I am so fucking horny right now."
"Say no more, Companion." The Clydesdale lifted his tale.
"You want it in the ass?"
"Why not."
Fred was not about to argue. He stepped out of his ripped pants and liberally spat in his hand to lube his member, then stood behind his lover. "Ready?"
"Are you?" asked the stallion with a smirk.
"Ready to fuck you senseless."
"Then fuck away!"
The whine returned, and Fred grew. And grew. And grew some more. Fred's new name was Chevrus. And Chevrus' horsecock was quite at home buried to the balls inside Azgard's ass. For eons he had admired the Clydesdale from afar, befriending him, dropping hints, some subtle, some not-so-subtle innuendo. He never imagined that the First Time with the magnificent stallion would find him on top. And now that he had made it to the top of the world, the view was overwhelming.
"You're pretty big for a Morgan, Chevrus," said Azgard, pumping up the smaller stallion's esteem.
"And you are unusually tight for a Clydesdale," grunted his delusional mate. "Could it be that you have extended me the honor of taking your virginity, dear Friend?"
"Please do not tell anyone else, Chevrus."
"Your secret is safe with me, Azgard. And I must tell you how flattered and truly honored I am to be your first. I shall be gentle."
Then, ever so gently, Fred, as Chevrus, savagely pounded away, snorting and grunting and foaming at the mouth. Words were one thing, actions were quite another. To be truly gentle would have been a supreme insult to the proud Clydesdale, insinuating not only that he was weak and incapable of withstanding the full sexual force of a fellow stallion, but that he was beneath the contempt of a lowly mare, who regularly received the same treatment. So Chevrus gave it his best, his hardest, his most masculine fuck he could muster, and hoped that Destiny would bless this union as the first of a lifetime of companionship with the stallion he so idolized.
With his hands dangling on either side in hoofed fists, Fred leaned forward over Azgard's rump and bit into his lower back to hold on. The Clydesdale endured the minor pain, because it was nothing like the real thing had felt ages ago.
"You would make an excellent bond mare," tactlessly growled Fred through his teeth.
"I am honored," replied Azgard, unlike the first time when Chevrus had let slip that comment. Though only an unintentional flippancy uttered in passion, it had shamed the bottom stallion into silence.
Suddenly feeling his heavy balls rise up, Fred held still to empty more gism in a single ejaculation than his entire life's output to date. "To your health," he snorted arrogantly, as if Azgard didn't have enough essence of his own. Detected the convulsing man's warm deposit, his Companion nickered in appreciation, then allowed the link to fade gently.
Fred woke up from his hallucination with a large fold of hairy flesh held tightly in his teeth. Though he desired to wallow in the warmth of a stallion climax, he was more concerned for the wound he had just inflicted. Closer examination revealed mild bruising, but no broken skin.
"I'm sorry, Azgard."
"Sorry?"
"For biting you."
"Don't be silly Companion. I would not be nearly so aroused, otherwise."
"Did you get off too just now?"
"No Companion. Chevrus was the only one who 'got off' that time, though he linked with me while doing it which is why I have his memory. I am happy to share it with you. You have now taken my virginity, too."
"But we're only half done," said Fred, pulling out his spent, but still-hard dick. "I insist on you taking mine, now."
"Companion?"
Fred bent over presenting himself to his mate. "Your turn."
"Are you sure this is wise, Companion?" said the stallion standing up to reveal the cannon muzzle that had just uncloaked.
"Holy shit," said Fred, terrified of it and wanting it even more. As a human, it simply wasn't possible, but as a virtual stallion, he reasoned, it might be less formidable. It was going to happen sometime, and now was as good a time as any. Better, in fact, because it was NOW. Such were the dangers of the link to the uninitiated.
"Yes, as much as will fit," said Fred emphatically. "This time, play your side of the link for me. I want to know what it felt like to lose your virginity."
What the man proposed was the precise peril that Azgard had forewarned, but the stud's desire to mate with him was just as strong as the man's desire to be mated. "Very well, Companion. This will hurt, and you will probably bleed, but you will survive and become stronger because of it." He hoped.
Azgard climbed over and positioned himself behind Fred who was on all fours. The whine in the man's head told him he had become a titanic Clydesdale with a relatively small Morgan penis pushing into his backside. He felt a few insignificant jets of precum warm him, but otherwise found it less than fulfilling.
"Is that the most you have to offer, Chevrus?" he thought to himself. "Perhaps you are the mare, here."
With that, Fred took the initiative and impaled himself on twelve inches of Clydesdale cock. Had he been in his right mind, he would have passed out from the ripping pain of a ruptured colon. But as a virginal Clydesdale, he delighted in the minor but intimate penetration, gliding up and down the bloody phallus as if it were no more substantial than a soft rubber pencil eraser.
Azgard was aware of the damage to his mate, but he believed it was not life-threatening. Fred had already assimilated a significant amount of essence, so he could take more punishment than the average human. And now that the Clydesdale's Primitive had been vanquished, he could stand still and allow the man to take as much or as little as he pleased. The First Time with Chevrus had been enjoyable, even though Azgard had not climaxed. Fred was now enjoying it too, rocking back and forth, voluntarily choosing to tear up his own innards in the process. For so many species, such was the power of the mating instinct. Azgard began to flare at that thought, and Fred "Ahhh'ed" as more tissue deliciously split open to allow deeper penetration.
"You're pretty big for a Morgan, Chevrus," cooed Fred. He pushed himself back further and further, squirming his ass to devour more yummy horsecock from the rear. His mangled guts pushed into Azgard's flared tip, which was all that was necessary to trigger the stallion and anoint the man furiously from within. Fortunately for the fatally-injured fellow, the stud had plenty of first aid to cure him. The moment the healing flood hit his bloodstream, Fred tripped into hyperspace, and the link no longer held his interest.
Several minutes later, he awoke from his galactic journey with Hipponaur essence flowing freely in his veins once again, and a colossal crowned cock purposely plugging its only escape route.
"What hap... OOOooowwwwww!"
"Please hold still, Companion."
"Azgard, you're hurting me!"
"And now I am healing you. The longer you rest, the quicker you will recover."
Lying on his stomach, Fred felt as if there was a large rock underneath him. Shifting his weight, he reached under to remove it, but discovered it was inside his abdomen.
"Oh my... Azgard, is that you?"
"Yes, Companion."
Reaching back further he felt a familiar warm and thick tube of horseflesh disappearing into his ass. A pained grin spread across his face. "We did it! We're one!"
"Yes we are," whickered the proud stallion.
"I just mated with a full-grown Clydesdale," mused Fred, finding the idea uncommonly relaxing. "That wasn't so bad."
"It only gets better. You will be able to travel in an hour or two. I will disengage shortly."
"Take your time Companion," sighed Fred happily, resting his head on his arms. "I can't think of any other place I'd rather be right now, nor any other place I'd rather have your horsecock. Feel free to leave it in as long as you like. Even take a leak in there if you need to. I just wish I could link with you to share what I'm feeling."
"Someday, Companion," beamed his mate.
"Swear to Hipponaur," said the man drifting into sated unconsciousness, "that you will never pull your cock out of my ass."
The stallion bent down and curled his head underneath to nuzzle the cheek of his drowsy mate.
"I swear, Companion."
When Fred awoke, Azgard was kneeling on top of him supporting his own weight, much of his flaccid penis still inserted. Fred stretched and yawned, and delicately probed his tender abdomen. The rock inside had deflated, but he still felt gloriously full of Clydesdale.
"You kept your promise," said Fred cheerfully.
"It was an oath, Companion, and of course I kept it."
"Well, I was only kidding. You can pull out, now."
"With all due respect, I cannot. You asked me to swear to Hipponaur, which I have done. The oath is everlasting."
Fred had no room to move under the stallion, and he started to worry just the teensiest bit that the Clydesdale was serious. "Come on, Azgard, lighten up."
"If I lighten up, then I might accidentally pull myself out."
"Are you saying we have to stay joined like this forever!?"
"Quite possibly... Unless you insist that I destroy my honor."
"No... I'm not insisting that, yet," said Fred, trying to figure a way out of this ridiculous predicament.
"Perhaps you should be more careful with what you wish for."
"Yeah," muttered Fred, "that's helpful... What if I have to take a crap?"
"I do not know, Companion. I did not think that far ahead."
"Oh Christ!" he cried. "I really didn't mean for you to swear an oath! Isn't there something we can do?"
"There is one thing," said Azgard, sitting up, "but it is extremely risky."
"What is it? Tell me!" he pleaded.
"Instead of me pulling out of you," the stallion said with a deadly foreboding, "you could try to pull yourself off of me. But PLEASE, Companion, please be careful!"
"Okay," said Fred, psyching himself up for the delicate maneuver. He carefully crawled forward, feeling Azgard easily slide out of him. In seconds, he was completely free of the stallion's limp member, which retracted immediately. The naked man stood up in triumph.
"Whew!" he grinned with a sigh of relief. "That was easy! Why was that so risky?"
"Because you probably don't think the whole tease is as amusing as I do," smirked the stallion.
Fred's grin faded rather rapidly. "You jackass!" he said, punching Azgard in the chest.
"Ow. That hurt."
The man tried to be steamed, but found it impossible, so he kissed the owie he had just made. "You only hurt the ones you love."
"That is a terrible motto, Companion. Shall we continue the journey?"
After dressing, Fred climbed aboard his lover, secretly flattered to be teased, but also hoping that in the future his stallion would show some restraint, because quite frankly, he hated it.
"I am truly looking forward to meeting your relatives, Companion."
Fred cringed, mostly because his kin embarrassed him. "Just promise that you won't judge me by my blood relations. My parents insist that I wasn't adopted, but that doesn't stop me from asking."
Azgard, chuckled. "I promise, Companion. I have a second cousin that I hope you never meet. And you already met Rovaun's son, Bouceph. You wouldn't judge Rovaun harshly because of Bouceph's abhorrent behavior."
"But that was really Garson in Bouceph's body."
"Yes, and believe me, it was an improvement."
"Yowza... Well, I have a cousin that I hope you never meet, too, but you probably will, 'cause he's staying at my parents' house. Kirk is the most immature sniveling stuck-up rich spoiled brat mama's boy..."
"Please, Companion, don't hold back."
"Both he and my hoity-toity Aunt deserve each other."
"I can't wait to meet them."
"Then there's my younger brother Doug, who, instead of getting a job, decided to turn his Chevy dump truck into a purple-flamed lowrider and cruise up and down the dirt roads of a farm town. Not a whole lot of money in it, but I think he finds a dime or a quarter every now and then whenever he pulls over to re-attach his bumper."
"He sounds like fun, too. And your parents?"
"They're probably the most normal of the lot, but I'm kinda worried about 'em."
"How so?"
"Oh, you know, they just don't ever have anything nice to say to each other."
"That is a shame... I think you are nice."
Fred snickered and patted his horse. "You don't have to worry about saying nice things to me, Companion. We will never split up."
"Yay!"
Then Fred found himself hoping it wasn't too late to say, "And I think you're nice, too... in case you were wondering."
Azgard whickered happily.
They headed west when they reached the highway. Fred stuck out his hitchhiking thumb from atop his stallion. It was a long shot that anyone heading west with room for a man and his Clydesdale would stop, but it couldn't hurt, and in any case, all they really needed was a phone, which they would surely come across in a few miles.
As it turned out, someone did stop.
"Howdy," said the highway patrolman exiting his cruiser.
"Hi," said Fred, sliding off his mount. "Was I speeding?"
"You shouldn't be on the road."
"Yeah, I know... It's kind of a long story. I'm just trying to get home."
"Is this your horse?" the cop said, admiring the Clydesdale from all angles. "He sure is a beaut."
"Yes he is," bragged Fred. "...And, yes he is... mine... that is. Heh."
The cop looked up at him, unsmiling as cops do, then continued the inspection of the perfect equine. He lifted Azgard's mane and ran his fingers close to the skin, then examined the other side as well, seemingly unsatisfied. Then he stood back and took in the whole profile.
"Mind if I look in his mouth?" he asked more like a command than a request.
"No... not at all."
The cop turned out Azgard's lips briefly then let him go and patted his neck. The stallion lowered his head and pretended to graze.
"It looks like you know horses," said Fred nervously, though he wasn't sure where the jitters were coming from.
"May I see some identification, please."
"Sure." Fred handed over his driver's license. "Is... Is something wrong?"
"I hope not."
The Law returned to his car and typed into his computer for a couple of minutes then came out again.
"The trouble I'm having, Mr. McHenry, is that I find you out here all by yourself riding what has to be a very expensive purebred stallion, who has not one single identifying mark upon him, no brands, no freeze marks, no tattoos. Now fortunately for you, no one is missing a Clydesdale at the moment, so I'm wondering if you can convince me to let you go."
"If you have a cell phone," said Fred thinking fast, "I can clear this all up."
"You have someone who can bring his papers?"
"Uh, no, but I can prove he has identification. He has an ID chip injected under the skin. His number is 630321835."
The cop chuckled. "I don't even remember my own dang zip code."
"He's very special to me," said Fred with a sparkle.
The cop picked up on that immediately. He removed his glasses and said with his own sparkle, "I have a special horse, too."
"Really? What kind?"
"She's a black and white paint mare named Bridgett."
"Oh," said Fred nodding, imagining the cop naked behind her. There was something in his eyes that made a connection, he thought. Maybe it was just because of their shared interest in equines, though Fred had no idea to what degree that interest was shared. Nevertheless, when the cop smiled at him, his heart fibrillated.
"Here you go, Fred," he said, handing him his cell phone. "I'm Mark, by the way."
Fred thought for the briefest moment that this guy was hitting on him, but then shook it off. It was Azgard, he told himself. All horse folk become first name acquaintances whenever a horse is around.
Fred punched in the number of his coworker at the clinic.
"Erica? It's Fred... Yeah, I'm fine... Oh, Sheez [dammit!]... No - thanks, I'll handle it... Yeah... Hey, I need to ask a really big favor. Can you bring the truck and the trailer and pick me up? I'm on the highway about five miles east of Harrington's... I have my horse with me... The big one... While you were on vacation... And I also need you to bring the portable rice scanner... No the other one... Yeah, that... Erica, just bring it. Thanks! I owe you one... Okay three. Bye."
Fred handed the phone back. "She'll be here in about an hour."
"Good," said the cop.
"You don't have to wait around," Fred said nervously. "I'm sure you have things to do."
"No, I don't mind. It's kind of a slow day, really."
The cop smiled politely at him. Fred decided to concentrate on being friendly instead of nervous, and he hoped to God that he could get out of this mess.
"Fred... do you mind if I call you Fred?"
"No. Please."
"I know I make you nervous. It happens all the time. Just relax. We'll have this all sorted out."
Fred sighed and tried to relax, but knew it was never going to happen, because the scanner that Erica was bringing probably would not read a chip that didn't exist.
"What's your horse's name?"
"Azgard."
The cop studied the stallion. "He looks like an Azgard. Do you show him?"
"No."
"No??" The man who knew horses found that hard to believe.
"Well... not anymore. He looks good, but... he has asthma."
Azgard wheezed on cue.
"Oh... that's a shame."
"Yeah."
The cop stared at Fred in that terribly uncomfortable, warm flirtatious fashion. Fred stared back at him and then overtly leered in jest.
The uniform chuckled and broke eye contact. "Sorry, I didn't mean to stare. It's just that you remind me of someone."
"I get that a lot."
"I'll bet. Do you know Daniel Racher?"
Lightning struck Fred's spine, and he could tell his pupils went completely black hearing that name come out of the mouth of law enforcement. Azgard stopped grazing, but kept his head down.
"No, should I?"
The cop instantly lost his sparkle. "When most people truthfully answer a question like that, Mr. McHenry, the response is usually a simple 'Yes' - or - 'No.'" He reached behind and pulled out his handcuffs. "Against the car, please."
"But..."
"Hands on the car, please!"
The cop grabbed him under the armpit and dragged him to the hood of his car, forcing him to bend over while cuffing his hands behind his back.
"Spread 'em" he commanded, kicking at Fred's feet. The shackled man complied, widening his stance.
"More!"
Fred did as he was told. "Look, this really isn't necessary."
"Of course not," said the cop as he patted him down, "I just do this for fun."
He grabbed Fred's bound wrists and pulled them down lower, then leaned into him, pinning him to the car while he reached forward to search his pockets. The tight cotton fabric that pushed into Fred's hand was inexplicably warm and hard, and got warmer and harder as it rubbed erotically against him. Azgard raised up to assess the situation but didn't know what to do. The cop continued to pat at Fred's sleeves and chest, but wasn't being very thorough with the upper body search. The lower body was a completely different story. His obvious erection continued to rub hard against Fred's palms. It made no sense unless this was just a power kick that the cop got off on.
"Yeah, we're having fun, now." The cop straightened up and put his hands on the Fred's waist, pulling him back against his groin. This was not what the police did on TV.
Fred took a deep breath and then took a deeper risk by taking the initiative. He felt for the cop's zipper and pulled it down. Then he reached inside and set the little cop free, and in doing so, he won his own parole.
"Oh, yeahhh," hissed the uniform passionately, "you catch on quick." While Fred jerked him off, the cop kissed the back of his neck and whispered, "You're so fucking hot! I'm gonna do a cavity search, okay?"
"Okay," whimpered Fred, scared out of his wits.
By this time, Azgard had figured out exactly what to do. Watch men have sex.
The cop pulled away and unbuckled Fred's pants, bringing them down below his knees. Then he massaged his buttocks through his briefs.
Fred couldn't see Azgard from his position, nor could he decide whether or not the stallion should intervene. He felt cool air on his butt cheeks as the cop slowly exposed them to the elements. Then the cool air turned hot and humid.
"Nice ass!" he breathed onto them.
Fred felt two hands spread his mounds apart. He braced for a fat cock to plunge between them, but instead, felt a warm squirming tongue dig in deep. The hand on Fred's right butt cheek reached around to his exposed cock and squeezed it, teased it, encouraged it to grow, which remarkably, it did.
"Mmmmm" moaned the cop, swirling around inside the sphincter. "Mmm-mmm-MMMMMMmmmmm!" He pulled out and stood up again still slowly jerking off Fred from behind. Then he slid his cock between Fred's legs and whispered, "Goddamn, your ass is awesome! I've got to fuck it. I've got to fuck your delicious ass. I got condoms in the car. Is that okay, Lover? Can I fuck your extremely fuckable hole?"
"No!"
The horny highway patrolman winced like he had been slapped in the face. "What?"
Fred twisted around to face the man who still gripped his love handle. "I said, 'No!'"
"But I thought..."
The confounded cop backed away, his exposed erection screaming, "Hey! You're going the wrong way!" Then he dropped his head in profound humiliation and hurriedly zipped up. "Oh Geez-usss..." He stared regretfully at Fred, wondering how this could have happened, replaying the events that led up to it and finding no answers. He clenched his jaw wondering what he should do, but there was really nothing to do but take a deep breath and take a deeper risk. He uncuffed Fred.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. McHenry. I completely misread you."
"I'll say," said Fred, rubbing his wrists. He pulled up his own pants.
"It's just that... the way you looked at me... and... I thought it was... I'm not a rape... Oh hell! I could lose everything..."
Azgard returned to grazing, disappointed that the show had been cancelled.
"Don't worry about it," said Fred, hoping the cop would now leave. "No real harm done. Besides, I only need to wash my hands. You however..." he snickered.
The cop heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Mr. McHenry." Then he curled his upper lip to inhale his own mustache. "And as a constant reminder of your graciousness, I promise not to wash this broom for a month."
"Enjoy it while it lasts," chuckled Fred. "Out of curiosity, what signal did I give you to make you believe I wanted to play cops and rubbers?"
The cop looked at Azgard for a moment and then shook his head. "I don't know. But it seems to me that you could have said 'No' a lot sooner than you did, which tells me I wasn't that far off."
Fred turned red. "Okay I confess. I have always had a secret thing for men in uniform."
"There you go!" smiled the cop. "And that is a good color on you."
Fred turned redder. The cop reached into his pocket and started writing something.
"There's no way you're giving me a ticket!"
"Nope. Something much more valuable." He handed him his business card with a number scrawled across it.
"What's this?"
"That, Mr. McHenry is a 'Get Out Of Jail For Almost Free' card. If you find yourself in any minor trouble in this county, you give me a call and I'll fix it."
"Almost free?"
"It'll cost you a dinner... on me, unless you order lobster or something ridiculous. Just give me an honest chance to make a better second impression, that's all I'm asking."
Fred shook his head, amazed at his good fortune. "Do you do this to everyone you pull over?"
The cop frowned. "Just what kind of a guy do you think I am?"
"Sniff your mustache."
"Heh-heh, point taken."
Fred held out his hand to tell the cop bye-bye. "So Mark, it was a... weird... pleasure."
The cop shook it with that same warm smile. Then he let go, put on his cop glasses, and stood there, still refusing to leave. Then Erica showed up sooner than expected.
"Fred!" she gasped. "He's absolutely beautiful! Where did you get him?"
Fred winced. "I'll tell you later. Did you bring the scanner?"
"I brought them both. I don't think..."
"Thanks, Erica."
Fred grabbed the electronic wand and powered it up. He showed that the display read all zeros.
"What was your horse's ID number again?"
"630321835."
The cop scribbled it down. Erica heard that number and immediately started biting her nails. With a dramatic flair, Fred waved the wand over Azgard's neck, then proudly showed the readout.
"How 'bout that!" said the cop. "Right on the money. Say, do you mind if I try it?"
"Uh, sure." Fred zeroed it and handed it to him. "The chip is implanted in his neck here. Just wave it over that spot."
The cop did so, and the same number appeared. "Miracles of modern technology," he said, impressed.
Fred held his hand out to retrieve the wand. The cop zeroed it and handed it back but then seized it just before Fred could grab it. Then the man with a badge and a gun and a funky mustache grinned from ear to ear as he waved the wand in front of his own groin.
"Well whadaya know?" the cop said in mock surprise. "630321835. This thing thinks I'm your Clydesdale. Or maybe it's just really impressed by my horsedick."
Erica whimpered. Fred closed his eyes and sighed - he was so busted. The cop just stood there slapping the wand lightly in his hand, patiently awaiting an explanation.
"All right," said Fred, acknowledging that he was totally screwed.
"Shall I pick you up around seven?"
"What?" His eyes shot open. The cop was wearing that smile again.
"Aren't you gonna use that card now?"
"Uh... SURE!" he blurted, willing to do anything to stay out of jail. "...But I'm about forty-five miles away and I don't have a car."
"No problem. I do."
Fred wrote down his parents' address and phone number. "Just dinner, right? That's all I'm obligated for."
"That's all," said the cop getting back into his cruiser. "But I hope not," he winked. He pulled away waving good-bye and then sped down the road, spinning his lights like a peacock.
"What the hell were you thinking!" shouted Erica. "You could have gotten ME arrested too!"
"That wouldn't have happened."
"The HELL it wouldn't! And just where did you get that horse?"
"Erica, he's mine."
"Don't lie to me. You don't have a horse."
"You don't know everything about me. I just got him."
"Then why did you lie to the cops?"
"Because I can't prove it, okay? I lost the paperwork."
"Oh, that's just great."
"Look, it's no big deal. I'll get him registered and that'll be the end of it. Chill out! You sound just like Sharon."
Erica calmed down, realizing she did sound just like that bitch. "I'm sorry, Fred. I've had a really lousy week. Sharon's been calling twice a day for you."
Fred loaded Azgard into the trailer. "You'll be safe in here until we get to my parents'. Shouldn't be more than an hour."
Erica giggled at him. Catching himself, he patted Azgard's rump. "At-a-boy!"
Erica started up the truck just as Fred closed the passenger door, then they all hit the road. It took twelve seconds of conversational silence for Fred to say, "I'm breaking up with Sharon."
His coworker rolled her eyes, for now she was doomed to hear all about it from both sides.
"And I'll tell her to stop calling you," he said.
"Thank you. I'm not your marriage counselor."
"I know. Thanks for dealing with her neuroses so affably."
"I told Kyle I was coming to get you. There's a good chance Sharon knows you're back."
"Then the sooner we get the unpleasantries over with, the better."
Erica nodded. The sooner Sharon was out of her life, the better as well.
"I'm sorry it didn't work out between the two of you," she lied politely. "I hear you wandered the lonely wilderness to get your head together."
"Yep."
"And did you?"
"Yep."
"Which... I guess is why you're breaking up."
"Yep."
"You know she's not going to go down without a fight."
"I know."
"It might be a whole lot easier if you just marry her."
Fred looked at Erica, and then they both cracked up.
Returning to the veterinary clinic, Fred followed his coworker inside to ask the boss if he could borrow the company truck and trailer for a while. He wasn't entirely sure that his parents would be thrilled about a Clydesdale altering the pristine ambiance of their orchard, in which case, the wheels would be necessary to transport his mate to some other boarding facility (that met with the stallion's approval).
"Sure, you can use it, no problem," said Kyle, agreeably.
"Thanks boss," said Fred, turning to leave.
"Because I need you to go out to Templeton's first thing tomorrow morning and bring in one of their studs."
Fred furled his eyebrows. "Uh... I'm kinda still on vacation."
"Oh... no problem. Then I guess you'd better leave the keys with Erica."
Fred sighed and glared at him. "You're such a prick, Kyle," he said with a politically correct smirk.
"I knew you'd see it my way," nodded his boss, perfectly comfortable sniping with his employees. "Welcome back. I hope you had a nice nature encounter thingy."
"I did," he said proudly. "It changed my life."
"Great. Now get out of here. You're kinda still on vacation."
"Okay. Thanks for the truck."
Whistling a cheery tune, Fred left the clinic on a high note, considering the minor errand to be a fair exchange for the truck rental. But his ditty ended on a sour note when he saw Sharon leaning against the horse trailer, waiting for him in a pose that must have taken a full minute to get just right.
"Well, well, well. You brought your girlfriend home with you."
"I don't have time for this," he said, checking the trailer to make sure she hadn't sabotaged it.
"Fred... you're sick. You need help."
He spun his hands around his ears. "Every time you flap your yap, you say the same thing. It's time to change the tape."
"What's the point if you won't listen?"
"Look," he said, stopping to make himself perfectly clear. "It's over between us."
[Gasp!] "No way!"
"I'm calling it quits. I don't want to be with you anymore. We're through. Finito."
"You can't just throw away a two-year relationship like that!"
"Why not?" he said, resuming his inspection.
"Because intelligent mature people WORK OUT their differences. They don't just run away from their problems like... like heroin addicts."
"Look at me, Sharon. I have only one problem. And I'm running away from it."
He climbed into the truck and slammed the door, then drove away from his problem that stood there gaping as road dust sprayed her in the face.
"Crazy bitch," he muttered. "Gawd, I'm so glad I didn't get her pregnant."
The rest of the trip to Fred's parents' farm was peacefully uneventful. Driving around the perimeter, he pulled up next to a service shed that housed a couple of old tractors.
"Welcome to Dysfunction Junction," he told Azgard setting him loose. "Now remember, just act like an ordinary horse."
"And you act like a man who doesn't commune with one," the stallion reminded.
"Okay." He kissed him anyway. "Love you."
"What shall I do, Companion?"
"Do what horses do."
"By that, I presume you do not wish me to startle at the slightest provocation and run off down the road."
"No of course not."
"Then I suggest you give this dumb ol' horse a reason to stick around."
Fred scratched his head. "I see your point... I know!"
He led the stallion behind the shed where a leaking irrigation system kept the ground moist and abundant with tall green grass. "A reason to stick around," he asserted, ushering his mate to the bountiful buffet. Azgard didn't need an invitation to get started.
"That ought to make a good first impression. My Dad hates mowing this area 'cause it's so hard to maneuver the tractor. Oh... also, if you have to unload, do it next to the compost heap over there, but not IN the compost, okay?"
"Understood," he said, grazing contentedly. After a while, he raised up to ask why his Companion was still staring at him. "Is there something else?"
"No," Fred grinned. "I just love watching you."
Azgard swallowed his cud, then said with a sexy leer, "No one ELSE is watching, Companion."
Fred leapt to him and kissed him long, wet, and deep, until both of them snorted in rut. Fred's face, neck, and hair were plastered with wonderful horsey slime, and he would have it no other way. This was what made him happy. He wasn't sick. He didn't need help. This was his new life and he didn't care what anyone thought about it, and he didn't care if anyone saw him doing it, which of course someone did.
"What the hell are you doing!"
Fred let go of Azgard with a start, then wiped his face with his dirty shirt, smearing grime from one side to the other.
"Hi Dad."
"You're french-kissing a horse?"
"Is that what it looked like?" he said nervously.
"Quite frankly, YES!" said his father in disgust.
"Perfect," grinned Fred. Then he patted Azgard. "Good boy."
"Son, you need a girlfriend," said his father sounding like he had lost all hope in the lad.
"That's just it, Dad," said Fred in confidence. "I want to break up with Sharon because I've found someone else, but you know how she is - she won't ever break up with me unless I'm a totally lost cause."
His father leaned forward and squinted to follow the logic.
"So I'm training Azgard here to make it look like I'm in love with him. When she sees us together, then hopefully she'll run screaming in the opposite direction."
His father straightened up and then grinned proudly. "Heh-heh-heh, that is brilliant, son."
"Thought you'd like it."
They patted each other on the back and headed for the house.
"I'm glad you're finally dumping that PSYCHO-analyst. Your mom and me were so worried you were blinded by tits. And 'course then there's no way we could ever impose our disfavor. Would've been the surest way to find out you'd eloped."
"You are wise beyond your years, Pop." Fred patted him again.
"So when do we meet this new girlfriend of yours?" asked his father.
"Soon... I hope you like her."
"I'm sure we will. Big tits?"
"Dad!"
"Never mind," his father chuckled.
Fred tried to change the subject. "How are you and Mom doing?"
"Oh, gettin' along as usual. So... a Clydesdale, eh?"
"Is it okay if I keep him here a while? He's got no place to go."
"I don't see a problem with that, just so long as you take care of him."
"Really?? Thanks!" Fred couldn't believe his father's unexpected generosity.
"And you fix everything he breaks."
"Okay."
"And you replace everything he wrecks."
"Not a problem. He's really well-behaved. Dad, he's the best thing that's ever happened to me."
His father smiled at him. "I can tell this new girlfriend of yours has made a world of difference."
Fred thought he might have read something from his father's expression, but just in case there was nothing there, he maintained the minor sex change in pronouns. "She and I are perfect together. I've never been so in love, and I know she feels the same about me."
His father nodded with a 'yep' in his rosy cheeks. "I still remember what that felt like," the elder reminisced. It was a touching thing to say, but Fred wished he hadn't used the past tense.
"Frederick, what a nice surprise," said his mother greeting him at the door.
"There's more surprises in back," said his father, "about twenty-six hundred pounds of 'em."
His mother ignored the father's jabbering and doted on the elder son, since of the two boys, he was the only one likely to make a name for himself.
"Where did you just come from," sneered his younger sibling. "Manure patrol?"
"How nice to see you, too, Dog."
"Your brother does have a point," said Aunt Rosie, delicately holding a finger to her nose.
"We just got back from a camping trip. And yes, I need a shower and I need to do laundry if that's okay."
"Who is 'we?'" interrogated Doug.
"Me and... Sharon," Fred stammered, fixing the slip-up.
His mother looked perplexed. "Sharon's been calling for you non-stop since Monday, Dear."
Fred sighed. It didn't take very long to get caught in a lie. Fortunately this one wouldn't be too difficult to weasel-word. "All right. It was just me. I'm breaking up with her."
"Oh dear," said his mother, pretending to feel badly for her son.
"It's about time, Doofus," said Doug tactfully.
"Shut up, Dog."
The father's only comment was a raised eyebrow.
"Lydia, are there fresh towels for young Frederick in the bath?" asked Aunt Rosie, with her usual aristocratic flair.
"Yes, ROSE," said Fred's mother in exaggerated supplication to her sister, using 'Rose' synonymously with 'Your Royal Highness,' though her sarcasm was a tad too subtle.
"Where's my cousin?" asked Fred, gleefully prolonging his all-out offensive on Aunt Rosie's aggravated olfactory nerves.
"Captain Kirk hasn't left your room since he got here," said Doug.
"My little prince is suffering terribly from the local allergens," said the Queen.
And Fred's mother grew tired of hearing that, too. "Our allergens are so much more plebian than those a hundred and thirty miles south."
"Well, they are," Aunt Rosie retorted, therefore it was true.
"Fred brought his horse with him."
"You got a horse?" sneered Doug, obviously disagreeing with his brother's priorities.
"Yes," Fred replied proudly. "And his muffler doesn't fall off when he hits a pothole."
"So? Who needs a muffler?"
"You do!" said his mother. "Where is your horse, Dear?" she brightened to Fred.
"Out back. Wanna see him?"
"Of course," said his mother. "We all do."
Aunt Rosie held her tongue, but followed the others begrudgingly to view the livestock. It was, after all, the pride of the underprivileged.
The gentle Clydesdale grazed benignly behind the shed, just as instructed. As the crowd approached from around the corner, he couldn't help but raise up and stand in stately repose to make his best impression. Fred snickered to himself.
His mother gasped at the sight of the grand stallion. "He's beautiful, Fred!"
"He's big," said his monosyllabic brother.
Aunt Rosie said nothing, but was obviously taken by the stallion's presence, despite her attempts to act otherwise.
Azgard had never seen so many humans up close before, and he studied them all with non-equine-like fascination. Hands were upon him from all sides, reverently touching and rubbing as if he were some religious artifact that contained divine transference.
"Cool horse," said another voice joining them.
"Kirk-darling, what are you doing out of bed?" reprimanded Aunt Rosie.
"Aw Mom," said the twenty-five-year-old going on eight, "I'm bored. Can I ride him?"
"No," said Fred.
Aunt Rosie gave her older nephew a stern glare. Fred didn't care if he had just overstepped his bounds.
"I don't think so," she explained to her son so matronly. "Your cousin has only just acquired the beast, Dear. And this breed is happiest in front of a plow, not on a polo field."
Fred smiled politely, allowing the insult to flow off his back.
"Aw!!" The disgruntled man-child trudged up to the stallion and patted him as if he were at a petting zoo.
Fred beamed as the innate power that radiated from his mate transformed the whining elite into envious true believers.
"I want a horse," said Kirk.
"Absolutely NOT!" gasped his Aunt.
"Aw!!!"
"He really is magnificent, Fred," said his mother sincerely.
"Thanks. I hope it's okay if I keep him here for a while."
"Oh," she said, suddenly having doubts.
"You won't even know he's here. I promise!"
"I find that difficult to believe," said Aunt Rosie, her finger at her nose again.
"He can stay downwind at the back of the orchard," said Fred. "And you can see he's already trained."
"I... guess that will be all right," she said, consulting her husband.
"It will be fine, Lydia," he replied.
Doug patted Fred on the back.
"What's that for?" asked Fred.
"Nothing," shrugged Doug. "Nice horse."
"Oh... thanks."
"I'm famished," said Fred's father, slapping his belly. "When's lunch?"
"Lunch has been ready for twenty minutes, Dear."
"Great. Then let's all eat and let Azgard enjoy his in peace."
"Excellent," said Fred. "I'm dang tired of trail mix."
Aunt Rosie faked a quaint cough at him while switching fingers at her nose.
"Uh, maybe you should clean yourself up, first," said Doug, uncommonly quick on the uptake. "You can wear some of my clothes."
"Thanks," smirked Fred, not exactly overjoyed to play 'grunge dress-up,' but it was better than being naked in public.
The others went back inside while Fred stayed behind with his mate.
"Well, whadaya think?" he asked the horse.
"About your relatives? I have had insufficient time to develop an opinion, but my first impression of them is not quite the dismal family portrait you had painted."
"Yeah I know. I expected my parents to flip out about you staying here."
"They obviously recognize your good taste in horse flesh."
"And that's the best impression you'll ever have of Dog, Jerk, and Aunt Nosie."
"I'm sure it will fade."
"Yeah," he chuckled. "Well, enjoy your lunch." Fred pecked him on the cheek.
"You too, Companion."
Fred insisted that everyone get started with their meal while he went upstairs to shower. When he finished, there was a fresh towel and a set of clothes neatly folded for him just outside the shower door. It surprised and humiliated him to think that his mother had stealthily entered the bathroom while he shampooed behind glass that never obscured as much as it should have. When his father had remodeled the bathroom, he had selected a frosted glass enclosure based solely on aesthetics, not realizing at the time that once it got wet, it became perfectly transparent.
"She probably kept her head down," he assured himself as he toweled off and dressed. Though he was two inches taller than his brother, the clothes fit adequately, and it was nice to wear something clean again. He had expected to be donning frayed cutoffs and an old Motley Crue T-shirt fashioned with cigarette holes, but instead, his mother had set out trousers and a tasteful long-sleeved print.
When he came down to join the others, most were just finishing up lunch, but there was plenty of chicken, peas, and mashed potatoes for him to engorge. Only the blueberry pie had been completely devoured.
"Shucks," he said. "Where's Kirk?"
"In his room," said Doug. "Eating his third piece of pie."
"I'm sorry, Dear," said his mother. "I forgot how much you like it."
"No complaints from me, Mom," he cheered, pulling out the chair next to Doug. "The rest of the spread looks great."
"Whoa, careful," said his brother, reaching under the table. He pulled out a perfect slice of blueberry pie and set it in front of Fred. "I rescued a piece," he winked.
Fred was aghast. "Well, thanks, Bro." He slapped him on the back, then sat down and started piling his plate. Doug passed him the peas.
"That shirt looks good on you."
Fred raised his eyebrows at him. "Did you leave it out for me?"
"Uh-huh. I said you could wear my clothes. I hope you didn't leave yours in the bathroom."
"Um... I did, now that you mention it. But I opened the window."
"Then that's one room we won't have to fumigate."
Fred couldn't stop staring at his brother. Doug leaned away from him. "Hey, I ain't doing your laundry!"
The elder brother chuckled and started in on lunch.
Doug dabbed his mouth and hands daintily with his napkin, making Fred snort at the blatant social commentary, then stood up to leave. "Well I gotta go. Good to see ya, Froederick," he teased. It was a name he jabbed him with ever since they first saw the movie "Young Frankenstein."
"It's nice to know that some things will never change," said Fred, holding out his hand to shake his brother's. "Where you off to?"
"To the graveyard," he replied, then he glared at his mother. "Evidently I need a muffler."
"I only suggested it, Dear," she said innocently.
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, leaving the house.
"Did you tell him to get a muffler?" asked Fred.
"You were the one who brought it up," she said defensively.
"I shall check on my son," said Aunt Rosie, now that someone who technically counted as host left the table.
Fred waited for her to leave then leaned forward to discuss his brother with his parents. "Is Doug on any medication?"
"Not that I know of," gasped his mother in alarm. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, it's just that he's always such a creep... and now he seems downright... considerate."
His parents sat up to reflect.
"He was very polite at the table," remarked Fred's father, but not giving it much credence.
"We all have to grow up sometime, Dear," said his mother.
"Well, it's about time," said Fred, stabbing his peas.
[End of _COMPANIONS_ Chapter 31: Dysfunction Junction]
[Next in series: Chapter 32: Growing Pains]