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Bitter Almonds, Sweeter Sugar

By Coldstone

Pan's walk into work felt like almost nothing at all. The muggy air and burning sun were atrocious as usual, but every time they truly started to get to him he just reflected on his new status with Emily and they fell back into the background; not gone, but less annoying. This came with the side effect of making him giddy, however; he at least kept himself from grinning like an idiot, or skipping, or just giggling gleefully. He never really thought himself a giggler until that morning.

After Pan's arousal calmed down enough for them to untie (a feature that alarmed Emily at first despite explanations), they had a long, cuddly chat, followed by a cold, improvised sponge bath. They'd agree not to tell Tobias for now, in no small part because starting their relationship by fornicating in the storefront of the bakery would just cause endless problems, but it'd be easier to ease him into it if they went on a few more dates and made a more gradual show of the news. It'd also get them a chance to talk it over themselves and get a better understanding of each other and what they wanted.

That meant, when he thought about it afterwards, that she hadn't been expecting them to end up together. She'd legitimately invited him out to the movies to try and help him feel better about the week and because she liked him. They bounced off each other well as far as humor went, she wasn't allergic to his fur (always a plus), but dating a pokemon never seriously crossed her mind, which wasn't... necessarily bad. He'd obviously changed her mind on the subject, but even he agreed that 'getting kissed once and then getting fucked gainst the wall' wasn't usually how one made these sort of decisions while sober. He needed to find ways to build things up further so she didn't have second thoughts.

He still gave himself points for beating expectations, however.

Still, he reminded himself that with things changed, working around each other was potentially going to be much harder. Tobias usually worked the early part of the day, so his jokes couldn't go too far from their usual fair, no sneaking in a kiss, or two, or...

Yeah. He could definitely see why kissing and screwing right before a relationship made things complicated.

He arrived at the store and slipped inside, finding Emily behind the counter sliding in some trays of pastries. They both gave each other wide, telling smiles, though it seemed apparent they both had the same thoughts: try to keep it casual as usual.

“Morning, Emily."

“Good morning, Pan. Walk wasn't too wet?"

So far, so good, Pan gave her a nod as he patted his duffle bag. “Dry enough not to worry about muddy feet, muggy enough to still feel soggy. Feels like Oklahoma, or anywhere else it rains I suppose."

Phase one of 'Keep It Casual' seemed to be going well, though their grins still seemed a bit strong. Rather than try and balance it out further, it made more sense to go get changed into Lyle: at least then he could disguise his grinning behind a more serious face.

Before he could, Tobias came out from the back. “Morning Tobi—" WHAM!

The small, plastic bin full of mints slammed into his face, sending him staggering to the floor; Tobias's red, scowling face tightened, showing more teeth. “Sonuvabitch coming back here of all things!" He reached for another bin filled with plastic utensils. “Get out! GET OUT!"

The second bin came flying. Pan managed to block it with his duffle bag as it exploded in a shower of spoons. Shock at the sudden violence paralyzed him, but not Emily.

“What the hell, Dad! What are you doing!?" She grabbed at one of the bins before it became a projectile, and then the fight really began.

“Be quiet! I want him out of here!" Another bin went flying. This time a flutter of napkins littered the floor.

Suddenly I'm really glad I always used a duffle bag to carry my things!

“What is wrong with you!?" Emily shouted, grabbing the last bin. She swung them out of his reach as Tobias tried to snatch one, but he didn't seem ready to get physical with her. “Why are you attacking Pan?"

Tobias suddenly had a new outlet for his apparent rage, going from looking for a new thing to throw to vein pulsing, red-faced fury as he clenched his fists together in her direction. “YOU KNOW WHY! It's on the cameras from LAST BLOODY NIGHT!"

Oh.

Oh Shit.

He didn't have the complexion to pale, but Emily more than made up for him. “Oh God, the cameras..."

Having caught them both off guard with the revelation, Tobias used the opportunity to pick up something more dangerous than a plastic bin: a scale. Pan realized this before it went flying, but he just barely ducked out of the way before the metal casing crashed hard into the floor and shattered into several pieces, leaving a sizable dent.

“NO!" That was too far for her. Emily now threw one of the bins she's taken away at her father, getting him square in the chest and sending him staggering. She used that moment to look at Pan and point at the door. “Run! Now!"

Pan understood why, but if he ran, what would happen to her? He couldn't just leave her—

“Pan! Go! Please!" the other bin went flying. She didn't have any other safe things to throw to buy more time.

So he ran.

He didn't know if Tobias would actually chase after him, or what Emily would do. To fight back meant risking hurting either of them—not counting the damage already done. Less than a day, and they'd already been discovered. Less than twenty four hours, and all his plans for showing a worthwhile relationship dashed. Less than five things thrown at him, and he'd been the one to run...

The air it took to run took enough of his concentration to keep him from continuing the train of thought from that point on as he took a turn not part of his usual path. He ignored the looks, the confusions, the periodic honk of a car horn. The only thing that mattered was the thud of his feet against the ground and weaving around any obstacles.

Eventually, the pain in his side overcame even that, and he found himself panting and barely jogging as he tried to get just a little further, to some sort of sheltered space.

He found himself sitting at a bus station bench, not at all hidden, but at least sporting a little shade. Once he caught his breath, he could just put an illusion on himself so he didn't look like a Zoroark on the run.

But what about Emily? Did he risk calling her? Was she alright? Tobias didn't seem willing to do anything to her, but he had no idea if that changed with her fighting back.

His phone sat in his hand as he debated whether or not calling would make things worse. So when it came to life with Emily's name, he quickly answered. “Emily!?"

<"Pan?"> Noise filled the background, but nothing that sounded like Tobias or fighting.

“Yes. Are you okay!?"

<"I'm fine. Where are you?">

He glanced around to get his bearings. Ironically, he spotted the locale laundromat, still being renovated. “I'm at the bus stop right by the Laundromat. Why?"

<“Stay there. I'll see you in a minute.">

“Okay..."

It took more than a minute, but he'd expected that. The bakery van appeared and pulled up, Emily at the wheel and looking unharmed, if a bit red around the eyes and pale. She practically flung herself at him as he got up and approached, almost sending them both to the ground, but his legs held strong.

The fact she hugged him so fiercely made him want to hug her back even harder, but he held back, just enough. Eventually she let him go, looking him over with a small sniff. “Are you okay? I know he got you with that first one, but—"

“I'm fine." he gave her arm a gentle squeeze, smiling. “I was more worried about you when you told me to run and... I'm sorry. This is all my fault."

Why was he smiling? It felt so stupid now; you didn't smile at someone when you screwed up their life!

Emily shook her head, then gave him another firm hug. “No it's not. Maybe both our faults as far as the bakery goes, but not the rest." She motioned him towards the van as she tugged at his arm. “Get in. I need your help."

He nodded, and made his way around to get into the other side. A tiny, tiny voice in the back of his head began praying as he opened the door and slipped into the seat, looking into the back portion of the van.

Please don't be a body, please don't be a body, please don't be a body...

No body. The tiny voice let out a sigh of relief as he fastened his seatbelt and tried to think of what to say next. “Where are we going?"

“To my place." Emily answered.

“Why there? Won't we run into your dad?"

“Even if he decided to close up to clean the mess he made later, he'll have to walk home: He came with me in the van this morning." She seemed to be controlling her tone as she set the van into drive and started forward again. “That's plenty of time to get in, grab my stuff and go."

“Right..."

The drive continued in awkward silence, as well as much of the, well, 'raid' as Pan thought of it. Emily left him in the driver seat to watch out for her father, while she went inside and came back out several times with assorted suitcases and bags of her things. It felt like a lot to him, but at the same time, when he recounted, he realized it probably accounted for only a fraction of her possessions: mostly clothes, maybe some sentimental pieces, though one trash bag looked like it had been stuffed with books. Each one just made him wince more inside.

Finally, and the part that truly made his stomach uneasy, was when she took a few keys off the bundle he considered the 'work keys' and pocketed them, dropping the rest on a probable table beside the front door with an audible jangle.

Back in the driver seat, she drove off to... somewhere.

“Emily?"

“Yeah?" A response. A hopeful sign.

“This might be a stupid question, but what are you planning to do now?"

She didn't respond immediately. Her eyes were focused on the road, but the slight shifts in her expression hinted at her fighting back a few choice emotions as she debated her answer. Even her grip on the steering wheel seemed to tighten for a moment. “I don't know. A couple of my friends might let me sleep at their place on the short term. Maybe let me rent out a room. Worse case I at least got a fair bit of room here in the van."

“Please don't do that last one." He reached out and put a hand on her leg. “At the very least, come to me first. Hell, come stay at my place." The words came out in a rush. “I have no clue what you two said to each other after I ran, and I wasn't going to bring it up yet because it didn't seem like you were ready to talk, but I'm not going to just ignore what's going on. Even if you hate me, at least let me give you a place to sleep and try to help fix it somehow."

“What? No, I don't hate you! I thought humans couldn't live in Atlas Apartments?"

Pan opened his mouth to refute that, only to realize that she was right. “Okay that's... a valid problem, but that's only if you move in, right now you're just visiting and happen to be staying over!"

“I don't know Pan, that stretch might just get you in trouble. We don't need both of us losing our places at the same time..."

She had a fair point in that, but now that he'd offered, he didn't plan on backing down. “There's nothing wrong with you staying at least a couple nights while we figure this out." He gave her leg a gentle squeeze. “I'm already at risk of losing my place if I don't get a new job eventually, so it's not exactly a problem."

Emily grimaced, but said nothing. They'd slowed down for a red light and had nothing to do but wait, her thumb tapping the steering wheel as she mulled it over...

The turn signal flicked on.

“Okay. You win. I just hope you're right about this."

---

As much as Pan wanted to head straight to his apartment, he knew Emily would fret over her stay until they had a real answer to the legality, so they drove around to the actual front entrance of the complex.

After Emily changed into a more casual outfit. Driving around in her work uniform was one thing, but walking around in it would just look really out of place. The van gave her plenty of space to change, even as Pan tried his best not to peek in the mirror.

They passed a number of pokemon as they approached the front desk; some leaving, some returning, others heading down other hallways. Emily looked a little surprised at how many there were, but to him this was normal: This many pokemon concentrated in one area made it easy to socialize, and from what he'd picked up in his time there, some of them had even turned their apartments into miniature 'parks' or improvised arcades; something to do with several water types commandeering the pool at one point as a place to just use water attacks all day and everyone complaining. Now, the pool actually got used mostly like a pool, and they had an activity board for signing up for things like 'water balloon fights' or 'Pikmin Fighter Tournaments.'

The front desk seemed unoccupied: a nice, wide berth of short, smooth, curved wall which sank into a tabletop, followed by the space an attendant would naturally be in. Three separate chairs occupied this space, though only one had anything on it, and it looked more like a giant, shiny pillow with black spots than anything else. To the far side sat a set of rolling steps, intended for use by shorter aspiring tenants, while other odds and ends on the desk included a mounted magnifying glass of alarming size, a pokemon-friendly keyboard and mouse, and a projector aimed at the wall behind the desk.

Pan focused on the call bell at the center of the front desk, adjacent to a small sign: If sleeping, please chime bell only once per second. Thank You! He placed a claw over the small button and became the rhythm, the brisk, humming vibration of dinging making his ears tickle. Emily read the sign as he did this, frowning. “Who sleeps in the middle of their shift and leaves a sign like this—"

The pillow shuddered and grew, sprouting several round-ended branches as the spotted cover burst open with a light buzz and flurry of movement. Emily jumped back with a yelp, which made him jump in turn. He stopped ringing the bell and waited patiently as the Ledian finished its stretch with a great big yawn.

“I'm up. I'm up~" The deep, buggy voice hummed, shiny blue spheres of internalized facets focusing on the both of them. “Sorry if I spooked you. You look spooked." The ledian let out a tiny snicker.

Pan gave him a quick wave. “Good morning, Clive! We have a few questions for you about apartment policies."

Clive's attention turned to him, or rather, he swiveled his seat in his general direction; the ledian also pulled a small cup with a straw into view. It suddenly sprang to life, a faint hum as the bottom of it started whirling into a vortex, stirring up the contents as well as the straw. This lasted a few seconds before abruptly stopping. “Policy questions? I might have to pull out the manual. What's up?" He picked up the cup and sucked on the straw for a moment, seeming to relish the taste. “Oh. Right. Would either of you like some sugar water?"

“Sugar water?" Emily finally spoke up, sounding a little bewildered and eyes round confusion. Pan realized he hadn't considered whether or not she might be afraid of bug types, though nothing he could think of in their time together suggested otherwise.

“I like sugar." Clive took another sip from the straw as his feelers twitched happily. “Lots of bugs and pokemon do, but especially bugs."

Emily's lip twitched into a smirk, which eased some of Pan's worries, but he needed them back on focus. “This is Emily," he gestured towards her as part of the obvious introduction, “Short version is she needs a place to stay for a little bit, but I'm not sure how long. I know it's probably not an issue if she was just spending the night, but is it against the rules or something, since this is a place for pokemon?"

Clive looked between the two of them, sipping more thoughtfully at this drink... until the straw began to gargle loudly. Clive seemed satisfied with that, however, and put the cup aside, hopping over to one of the other chairs with a flutter of his wing. Emily jumped again, but this time without the yelp. “Doesn't she have a human home? I was kind of expecting you to be moving in with her when I saw you two together. She smells like the same sugar you usually do."

“It's... complicated." He and Emily shared an awkward glance. “Also, what do you mean she smells like the same sugar?"

Apparently finding the right book, Clive dropped it open on the counter and started skimming down the words with a mitt-like hand. “Lots of bugs smell and taste things differently from not-bugs." Another hand gestured up to his head, where the feelers now wiggled more actively. “Even right now, I can smell... some lettuce, milk, lots of different sugars, chicken eggs, pepper and... lots of stuff! One of you had a salad, with 'The Ranch' dressing? The other one probably had eggs and cereal. Unless someone left their door open and is cooking eggs right now."

Seeing as Pan had such a salad this morning and from the surprised look on Emily's face, the guess had been spot on. “Can all pokemon do that?" She sounded a little alarmed.

“Some better than others, but it's not as impressive as it sounds." Clive snickered delightfully. “Milk sugar smells different. Cereal sugar smells different. I really like ranch dressing smell. Chicken Egg smell and pepper wasn't as strong before I took a nap. I'm just good at guessing smells. Almost all pokemon smell tricks are just tricks."

Emily looked less alarmed now and more thoughtful. “Just tricks, huh..."

“Anyways," Clive tapped the page before him, “Nothing wrong with a human living here with a pokémon tenant. We've had pokémon move here with their trainers before, if not for very long. That said, if she's staying longer than fourteen days, it would be appropriate to add her to the lease."

Pan thought of the several bags of things now sitting in the van. Carrying them through the lobby, or even the side entrance he usually used would probably be noticed one way or another. “...Is there any way to just write her in under me and skip most of that for now?"

Clive looked between the two of them, feelers twitching again and with a small frown. He sighed as he shut the book, then flitter back to the center seat closer to them. “Tell me what's going on." His tone turned serious. “She doesn't smell dangerous, but I'm not supposed to 'cheat' without finding out what's going, and human stuff is hard to guess at."

So, they told him, slightly modified to them now dating and Tobias not liking it, versus them getting caught on camera.

“Does he know where you two are, or that Pan lives here at Atlas?"

“I'm pretty sure he's still cleaning up the store, since we didn't see him when I packed my things..." Emily managed to choke out, eyes watering and face scrunching up a little. “His address is on his application. It wouldn't be hard to check."

“Do you have a picture of him?"

Emily opened up her phone and swiped through her gallery, presenting a picture Pan recognized from the break room of the two together.

Clive took it all in and nodded. “Right. Here's what I'll do: She can bring her stuff in, I won't ask her to sign anything for now, but at least one of you needs a job before the next rent check: I can put off collecting on you for a little bit, but if I do more than that I might lose my job. If she stays after the next renting period, she definitely needs to go onto the lease. If anyone asks, it's all worked out. I can't let others think I can do this all the time, because I can't." he slid the keyboard closer and began tapping at it. “I'll get you a second key for her and a sticker for the van car, but to be honest you should probably try and drop that back off. Humans are fussy about cars. If he shows up here... it depends what he does. If he smells dangerous, I may have to call the police. It would be better if that didn't happen."

Pan let out a sigh of relief, as did Emily, albeit more chokingly. “I owe you a lifetime of sugar, Clive. Thank you."

“I prefer it in the shape of cookies, or other tasty things." Clive replied, the serious tone lightening. “But please, focus on yourselves first. If you're having trouble getting work in town I might know some tenants who can help. Don't go foraging alone either; the local wildlife might not appreciate strangers."

Emily abruptly reached over the desk and gave Clive a tight hug, surprising everyone. “We'll keep that in mind, Thank you too, Clive."

Clive chittered appreciatively and hugged her back. He had four arms to hold her with, so it was a good solid hug.

The most critical bags—the ones with Emily's clothes and necessities—came up first. The ramps that served in place of stairs made the process much less tedious. It was just as well they hadn't tried sneaking up first; the traffic of pokemon coming and going seemed surprisingly high, making Pan wonder if they had some sort of event going on. No one gave them a single strange look, however, which made him wonder if more humans visit than he realized.

He pushed open the door of his apartment and they both rolled everything inside. The best parking spot for the suitcases ended up directly behind the couch, eating up a surprising amount of room, but once they were in he turned to Emily and gave her a sheepish smile. “Welp, here we are." Various ideas of something clever to say cycled through his mind, but none of them could really compete with the circumstances. “Apologies if it smells too much like pokemon. I can't exactly control that part, but I'm pretty sure we can pick up some deodorizer."

Emily smiled at that, stepping in closer and wrapping her arms around him. “It smells fine." She squeezed tight and rested her head on his shoulder. “This means a lot to me. Thank you so much."

It sounded real. It felt real. Pan closed his eyes and relished in that feeling of contact. Even as her shoulders shuddered a little and he felt the faint dampness of tears on his neck, he knew they still had something together, and that would be their support.

“We'll get through this. I promise."

She sniffed heavily. The shudders lessened a little. “Worse case, you'll have to teach me how to not pick poisonous berries."

“Nah, we'll have to ask Clive. I don't know squat about what's not safe to eat, just how to cook tasty things."

That got a small chuckle out of her. She loosened her grip and pulled back, looking at him more directly. “This is gonna take a lot of getting used to, I think. I was worried hugging Clive was pushing a boundary or something. Is he... actually a he? I can't actually tell so I'm kinda going by the name and voice right now."

“Yeah, that's actually a pretty common problem, even for pokemon. Pretty sure Clive is male though. I think you can use antenna length to tell, but don't quote me on that."

He guided her around the couch and sat down, settling her into his lap with her back against his chest. With his arms now gently wrapped around her midsection, he nuzzled the side of her neck and hugged, trying his best to comfort her. Having her this close and holding her gave him a sense of completeness, and from the way she sank into him and squeezed at his hands, the same seemed true for her as well. “Should I ask what happened after I left?"

She grumbled at that, but let out a sharp exhale at the end. “I'd say no, but I should really say yes." She turned her face to his and pressed it close. “Short short version: He thought you forced or tricked me into it. I said you didn't, but he was still mad."

“Because I'm a pokemon, I'm guessing."

A tiny nod. “Probably. Truth? I'm still kind of wrapping my head around it too, but I thought I'd have more time to really process it. That's part of what makes all this scary right now. I'm sorry."

He nosed her forehead and kissed it. “To be fair, apart from just sex, a lot of pokemon would probably find it odd that I was interested in you. Plus, I kinda figured your dad was the 'Don't date my daughter; I got a shotgun' type of person, so really, this is pretty on point with that."

“Yeah, I suppose he fits the trope pretty well. Fuck." Another exhale. “Anyways. More yelling, I got tired with it, so I ran out too. He didn't exactly throw me out, but... I don't think I could live with being around him with things as they are."

Dampness dripped onto his face, her voice trembling near the end. His arms squeezed her a little tighter, while she curled up closer. “Well, that's better than what I was thinking happened. Still bad, but could be worse. He might call you in a few days apologizing, and you might still have a job."

“You make it sound like you definitely don't have one in that scenario."

“Well, I did have my way with his daughter on camera. You might not be able to sleep with him to cover it up, but I, on the other hand..."

One of Emily's hands sank into his fur, feeling around. He thought it was just another part of the closeness they were sharing, until she found his nipple, grab, and twisted. He jumped in surprise and pain. “Gaaaaaaooow! OW! What's that for!?"

“Absolutely terrible joke, even if it was technically funny." She'd let up briefly when she answered, but immediately after she gave another twist, causing him to buck and flail, trying to dislodge her hand but not actually let her go.

“Owowowowow! I yield! I yield! No more crude jokes about your father, I swear!"

The torture stopped, and the hand removed. Pan rubbed gently at the source of pain while groaning. “I'm dating a friggin titty twister. Fuck."

“You started it."

“And you finished it. Clearly I'm going to have to make a list of rules so you don't try to twist something more sensitive."

“Sounds like a good idea" With a satisfied smile, she turned his muzzle toward her and pressed their lips together. A slow, gentle kiss that made the ache in his chest a little less. “Should we go get the rest of the bags?"

“In a minute. You're comfy, and I'm hoping to get another kiss before I say something that might get me pinched."

---

Emily awoke to a strange, yet familiar smell. It tickled her nose, and eventually she realized why: hair. She tried exhaling to get it out of the way, only to find it poking the inside of her nostril as soon as she stopped. Turning her head didn't help much either; she only ran into more of it. She tried brushing her hair back next, reluctant to release her hold on...

Now her eyes opened, though it did little to help. The faint glow from the alarm clock illuminated shapes or made outlines, but the window and its blinds beckoned only further darkness. The clock showed it early in the morning, yet too soon for dawn.

The strange smell told her she wasn't in her room. The bed felt different, and the fuzzy, warm figure beside her seemed strange and unfamiliar, yet she didn't want to let it go. She did her best with the outline provided by the clock to try and decipher it. There were arms, some parts thinner and others thicker, and things she could only call spikes for fingers. The other way showed a pointed nose, where a soft, thankfully subtle snore slipped out. She could feel the breath moving in and out of the chest. The hair she'd woken up to flowed from its head in alarming volume, which explained not being able to escape it.

That's right: Pan. This was Pan's apartment, his bed, and her new home.

Because she'd run away from the old one...

Or better to say she'd fled from the old one? Her brain sluggishly reminded her about the previous day, while also telling her the reason for her waking up: bathroom.

Carefully, she slipped herself free from Pan's arms. They'd managed to fall asleep that way, though she couldn't help but feel a little warmer for it; the consequence of Oklahoma plus body heat. Thank goodness she'd at least stripped down to one of her thinner nightgowns. Last night she'd been exhausted from all the stress and activity, but after that...

One problem at a time, Emily reminded herself: bathroom.

One careful step at a time, she navigated to the door and gently turned the knob. The hinges only squeaked softly if she took it slow, and a backwards glance to the silhouette on the bed showed it peaceful. She mostly closed it behind her, hoping to muffle any extra noise while minimizing more on her return. Now in the living room again, the smell from before became less potent, but still present: Pokemon. Pan had apologized about it when she first came here, talking about doing something about if it bothered her, and she had told him it was fine.

In reality, it bothered her quite a bit, not because she found it offensive, but because it reminded her just how different everything had changed. Yet she found his scent up close comfortable, whereas the general presence did the opposite. She first noticed it when they'd arrived at Atlas, with it getting stronger as she went deeper into the personal life of a pokemon

Stupid. A stupid and contradictory reaction. No matter how many times she pointed that out, however, her brain still complained.

At least she could pee in relative peace: Pan actually did keep a scented deodorizer in there, well worn but reliable. The tile also felt nice and cool on her feet if she kept them to the sides off the little rug around the basin.

DId Pan relieve himself standing up, like a human man? Did he lean on the sink and lift his leg up, using expert marksmanship? Or, like those silly youtube videos of life hacks, did he simply let it out while in the shower, with no one to judge him? Another stupid brain moment, reminding her just how little she really knew about pokemon, or just some other things in general. Was this because she'd lived all her life with her dad, learning to be a baker and not striving for more things, or was she just that unimaginative?

A small part of her mind reminded her that thinking didn't work best after just waking up. She certainly didn't feel stupid around Pan, with the silly jokes or banter, and she didn't normally feel that way around her friends, unless they were talking about some college course or something related to their own jobs. That usually had to do with Stacy; she was the math wiz of the group. Emily had her own hobbies too!

Knowing a lot about pokemon just wasn't one of them.

She placed her face in her hands. What would her friends say once they learned about her dating a pokemon? That she'd already done it with him? She tried to recall what conversations they'd have that would suggest their reactions. She didn't think they were against the whole Liberation thing, but not remembering something more definitive frustrated her!

God, what was she going to do?

God: there came another awkward hurdle. She wouldn't be going to church this Sunday. No reason to risk somehow getting into an all out fight with her father there of all places. The Lord and Savior would have to settle with a beside-the-bed or something this time. Hopefully they wouldn't take too much offense to that, or if she forgot.

“It's too early in the morning to be worrying about this..."

She flushed, washed her hands, gave herself a good long look in the mirror, and decided that the answer to her current problems was more sleep. If she remembered, she could talk to Pan about all this. She seemed to recall him saying they should at least have the weekend to themselves to process everything that'd happen, and figure out anything else she needed she might have forgotten at home.

Sneaking back into the bedroom, everything felt darker after having her eyes adjust to the bathroom lighting. The glow and the window and clock gave her a guiding point, and once she found the edge of the bed with her leg, she carefully shuffled around and adjusted the angle of the blinds to let in a little more night light.

Pan still slept, though he'd shifted onto his back at some point since she'd left. His dark fur made everything hard to discern in the gloom, but the added glow from the window now illuminated enough to make him out with some detail. His mane, with its glorious reds and splash of black, draped over the edge of the bed, the greenish blue (or was it blueish green?) bead resting on the floor. His upper chest and forearms were a sea of thick fur, the former just a bit darker, but they just felt more voluminous when you took in the amount of detail still visible in the shorter fur of his torso. She couldn't help but be a little envious of how flat his belly looked, already knowing that her fingers would still sink a little into the fur, and stroking it would probably wake him up with ticklish delight if she didn't take care...

Then came the guilty pleasure farther south. The same short, envy-inducing contours of body and fur carried here too. When they'd gone to bed, Pan had stripped down to only a jockstrap, a detail she'd both appreciated and regretted. The green material that made up most of the pouch and some of the edge work seemed to reflect the light especially well, and how she knew he'd turned over in his sleep even before she'd adjusted the window blinds. If he had turned the opposite way, she'd be treated to a backside that begged to be held in your hands, almost completely uncovered.. Admittedly, part of that illusion might have been because of the leg fur; Like his forearms, they were much fluffier, almost like thigh-length stockings, if just a bit longer and ridiculously feathered at the top.

She let out a soft sigh as she placed her hand on her cheek. All this detail soaking in, admiring the rise and fall of his belly, the bulge of that green pouch; she'd never get back to sleep at this rate. Small wonder with such deviant thoughts.

If she couldn't sleep, she could at least do a little more research, right?

Right.

Carefully, she picked up the bedsheet still covering his feet and pushed it the rest of the way off—They'd opted against it in favor of trying not to overheat. Now exposed, Emily took in the fearsome looking spikes and wondered how they hadn't stabbed her when they were cuddled together earlier. They were similar to his fingers (or rather, claws), with a semi glossy sheen like her fingernails, yet solid, unyielding...

At least until she took a chance at carefully running a finger over them. Still fearsome, she realized that their size also made them blunter than expected. They could still poke or scratch, but at worse she'd only get an awkward scrape unless they somehow managed to kick each other. Her finger brushed past to the thickened sole below—Pan didn't have pads the way she'd expected like on some pokemon, and they blended in so well with his fur she wouldn't have realized otherwise—and made his whole foot twitch, shifting just a little and curling his toes. Did they actually bend? Maybe they did; Pan seemed a lot more dexterous than she would have thought for having claws for fingers...

She couldn't help but grin at herself when she considered some sort of little socks to lessen the chance of awkward poking and they evolved into adorable little patterns that would surely have gotten her a glare for the indignity. She might still be able to talk him into some when actual cold weather blew in, however...

Pulling away from the introspection of the sole, she finally brought herself to the real temptation of exploration. Ever so slowly, she slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of the jockstrap and spread them around to try and spread the tension as evenly as possible. She needed it high enough to get over the bulge in front, while also not putting too much pressure on the rest of his body...

The fluffy thighs tickled her hands, but much to her delight, she got the jockstrap far enough down to expose the tip of his sheath. Carefully extracting her hands and some patient tugging at the base of the pouch let her slide them down even further, the elastic much more forgiving than she thought! Now they laid on the floor, and her gaze traveled back up to where it'd started.

This made the third time of witnessing Pan's nakedness, but the first to really look at it at leisure. The sheath made it seem like the penis trapped within had to be enormous, but as her fingers sank into the soft fur covering it, she felt the faint twitch of life, the firmness of shape, and found the ease of which the sheath revealed a familiar tip. Politeness dictated to not stare at moments like this, when a pokemon might be doing their business, or simply be 'excited' for some reason, but here, politeness didn't exist; she stared shamelessly, and touched, and experimented.

His shaft did not slide out so much as the sheath slid back. It didn't grow longer, but it did get bigger. The extra lump at the very base, half hidden within the sheath, she knew did that even more so. She held the pink, veiny spire aloft in the dim light of the window and watched as it seeped out glistening wetness, now having a better idea of the answer to her earlier question in the bathroom. She knew about the glistening wetness too, of course; even Sex Ed covered this, as did the internet and some of the stories she'd (albeit of human men, usually).

And, like those stories, like the internet, she knew what she wanted to try next.

Off came her nightgown. She now wore nothing but her underwear as she tilted his shaft upward again. Pan still slept on, though in all her playing with his body, there had been several deeper breaths, faint rumbles, even a few small thrusts of his hips. Said hips gave another small push up into her grasp and helped slide his bulging base against her palm. She squeezed it gently between her fingers, feeling its warmth and throbs, and smiled in satisfaction. She cupped his balls in her other hand to roll around to show her appreciation to his cooperation, meanwhile leaning over and opening wide.

She knew to mind her teeth, but much like when they first kissed, she needed to learn as she went. She didn't want to wake him yet—even if now probably would have been the best time to get caught—but she wanted to do a good job for him as much as herself. Her tongue became an obvious choice to use, feeling around and trying whatever she could with it; flicking the tip, swirling, caressing, things she didn't even have words to describe, but she found ways to use her lips as well, even the top of her mouth. Some of her actions earned another small push of the hips, and she felt the swell of the base in her grasp as well as the rest of him.

But she still had to go deeper.

She'd never thought to test her gag reflex before—not for something like this anyways. She carefully slid down further, testing the point of discomfort, pulling back after a point. She nearly gagged twice, once from an unexpected thrust surprising her, the other because she'd tried holding it for too long, but she quickly caught on.

What she couldn't fit she let her fingers play over, what she did teased her taste buds with a simple-yet-enticing flavor. Each thrust his sleeping form opt to give her became a stroke of encouragement, and when that knot grew alarmingly large—had this really what'd been in her that night?—she realized what came next and pulled back.

The entire thing throbbed and jumped, held in place by her hand and lips. A gush of seed cascaded over her tongue and the roof of her mouth. She nursed that tip a bit, not going too far as another pulse added more, then another, and another. She'd remembered how much had seemed to be in there last time and prepared herself to swallow, and she did, a squishy, slushy warmth of strange-yet-familiar flavor. Even more came out, her hands and mouth continuing to nurse it for another swallow.

When she finished she eased it free from her mouth with a faint slurp, then licked at a small oozing dollop she spotted—

It jerked, and a fresh strand got her right in the face. She felt it streak up her forehead and into her hair. She pulled back, almost swearing out loud. Carefully opening her eye that'd almost gotten shot into, she witnessed the next seemingly random spurt, this one also getting her face, if missing her eyes; why was he still cumming!?

Back into her mouth it went, the few, periodic pulses getting swallowed down again. Like before when she thought it done she let it back out, only for it to let out another shot that either got onto her face, or neck, chest, or just Pan's crotch. Sneaking off to clean her face would be one thing, but how was she supposed to clean him up!?

As a last resort, she stuck her finger over the tip. No longer able to escape, she swore it twitched and throbbed harder, but at least it couldn't spray everywhere... at least not until she let her finger move ever so slightly off angle, and a backed up volley gushed all over her wrist and his fur, just like she'd been trying to avoid.

“Fuck." She finally swore under her breath.

“Fuck is definitely one way to put it."

She froze. Glancing back towards the shadow of his face and saw the reflective glint of his eyes, and possibly a smirk, but that could have just been the red splotches at his cheeks. “Good morning?"

“It's a bit early for a good morning, but I will still say it's pretty good." He sounded tired, but thankfully not upset.

“How long have you been awake?"

“I think a little after you pulled my jockstrap down. Little fuzzy, given I thought I was dreaming at first. I didn't want to startle you, and I guess I was curious about how far you'd go."

In that moment of exposure, her finger slipped again. Another concentration of held back lust shot onto her hand and his belly fur, making her huff and abruptly put her mouth on to get the next burst. She couldn't talk that way, however, and now feeling extra embarrassed at getting caught, she slipped back off with a pop and let out her frustration about it. “Why does this keep shooting!?"

Pan's face definitely had a grin on it now, so much so his cheeks started to bulge out, before bursting out with laughter.

“Don't laugh! It's your dick! You should know how to turn it off!" She flushed with embarrassment and annoyance, if mostly the first. “What'd I do wrong?"

His laughter didn't stop, though he clearly tried to get it back under control, even as he continued to dribble and spurt on himself. “That's normal," he finally managed between a few chuckles. “For me anyways. Works differently for some."

She didn't understand that at all, and he must have noticed that as he instead gestured her closer. She obliged, and soon found herself cozying up beside him, one arm draped around her side, and the other holding her arm out in front of him. He started licking along all the spots she'd gotten his spunk on. His warm, damp tongue slithered over her skin with provocative ability, and she found herself wondering if he was being very deliberate in showing that off.

“I guess that means you're not a spitter."

“Nor are you," he countered, then playfully nibbled her hand. “Though technically part of me is spitting right now."

She elected not to pinch him for the smartassery. “It's making a mess."

Her hand now clean, he released it, which allowed her to snuggle up more comfortably to him as he proceeded to lick her face clean as well. “That's what it's good for, and that's why I take showers and wash the sheets now and then."

The tongue across her face felt adorable and horrible. Adorable, because it reminded her of a mother grooming her children with various pokemon, and horrible, because of the faint whiffs of his breath that came along with it. Then again, she shared that same breath when they kissed, so with a bit of retrospect, she decided it wasn't that horrible. Especially when she considered where she'd had her mouth just recently. “I'll keep a box of water balloons around for next time, then."

She got another small chuckle out of him, then found his lips pressing to hers as he leaned in. The fur on his chest tickled against her breasts, warming her up in more ways than once. “There's another option, if you don't want to practice your oral skills some more. To help contain the mess I mean."

The sly look on his face, and the soft caress of careful claw tips along her side, were enough of a clue to what he meant, and she rather liked the suggestion. “In that case, I have just one more question."

“Do tell."

She pushed herself up and over him, legs straddling his hips so she rested on his front. She could feel the twitch of his length as it brushed against the inside of her thigh, marking part of it with his continued release.

“Tell me about those brownies from the other day."

---

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