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Tap. Tap. Tap.

The drum of claws against wood sounded through the room. Ceaseless, but slow. Methodical and subconscious; the kind of habit formed early in life and one never grew out of.

The one, in this case, was an older white wolf. He failed to notice the soreness forming where claws met paws. That the time for lights out had come and gone. That the light of his candle dimmed against moonlight. Pressing matters concerned him.

Everyone understood how a situation could turn for the worst. That was the life for many members of the Order. Members got hurt. Members got scarred. Members died.

But why had things turned bad at home? An unlucky circumstance can destroy any situation, but this circumstance seemed so subtle. Poor in ways that undermined a select individual, not the entirety of The Order.

A free paw idly rubbed the embroidery on his uniform. The feel of the fabric affirmed him of who he was and knew his responsibility.

If there was one thing a captain should know, it was their unit; and if there was one thing Captain Garret knew, it was Unit-57H. The Captain could sing their praises, as well as their condemnations, but he preferred the former.

His unit wore their best qualities on their sleeve, but perhaps the problem laid therein.

Did it?

Ludwig's strongest trait was his compassion - all the motivation a medic needed. The bear cared for their patients with a certain conviction the rest of their unit tended to show on the battlefield. There were times this sympathy and dedication blinded them when nothing was amiss, yet that was an easy mistake to forgive. Even his lack of combative prowess - they were easy to outmaneuver and feint - was made up for by the fact that their primary duty and passion was field medicine.

Much of the life of Unit-57H was in Edwin. His boisterous personality was the sort that drew more attention than he realized - especially after it was too late. On more than one occasion had the Captain disciplined the tiger for forgetting their place. And yet, his cheerfulness and energy would be sorely missed if it disappeared. Even excluding the benefits of his athletic and combat proficiency, Captain Garret knew Unit-57H would lose more than a soldier with Edwin gone. They would lose a dear friend.

Sam was the epitome of dedication. He trained every day. He looked for every opportunity to make himself useful. At times this irked the team, for Sam observed them and stated their failings. There was a time when Captain Garret suspected all the coyote wanted was The Order's recognition. This was no longer the case. He observed his team for all their shortcomings, not to admonish them, but to improve them. It seemed to be compassion, in its own way.

And Resnick was some mix of Edwin's rash energy and Sam's unending conviction. The wolf wanted to move. He wanted to prove himself. And, in some ways, he did. Resnick had little social tact, but more than Edwin. They were observant, but less than Sam. Resnick stood out most with his stubbornness. They never gave up.

The problem laid not within the unit itself.

But something went amiss. Ever since Resnick passed out those few weeks ago, the wolf acted out of character. Or perhaps he acted too in character?

The wolf jittered throughout their mandatory medical leave, but The Captain assumed this was their cooped up energy. Resnick was an active sort, after all, and they longed for a way to move.

Not only that, but Captain Garret noticed a couple days ago a particular smell on Edwin; one that clued him that someone in their unit felt cooped up in a different way. The Captain, of course, had not been certain that Resnick was the partner of the affair until he tricked the wolf into an admission - that Resnick was prepared to believe Garret had the scent of their lust memorized said more about the young wolf's ability to jump to conclusions than the captain's deductive reasoning (and more than that, Resnick was terrible at hiding his erection).

Given what Captain Garret learned about the relationship between Resnick and Edwin, however, he made to encourage them. They were youthful, after all, but then Resnick turned that idea on its head.

Just as Resnick was interested in Edwin, so too were they interested in Garret. And the young wolf truly had looked like Garret's own partner from the past. Perhaps it was wrong for the Captain to indulge - to rile his subordinate with tales of his trysts and the satisfaction therein.

Resnick was interested, though. They both were, which Garret realized a little too late. He offered the younger wolf an ear and a voice, but they were brash and stubborn. Would they take it?

Or were they interested enough in Garret to make the approach - to admit to their most trusted authority figure some deeper desire - and ask for more?

The Order would not approve.

But there was something else Garret noticed about Resnick. It tugged at the corners of the younger wolf's expression. It made them hesitant to look their friends in the eye. It drove them away from the unit.

It was unlike the unit's other curiosities that were of no concern - Sam occasionally trained naked when he thought no one could see, which, while strange, was not something Captain Garret was about to address.

No, it was important that Resnick was scared, but of what?

Captain Garret originally surmised it must have been about passing out two weeks ago and what that meant for the tournament. The wolf wanted to prove themselves so dearly - so entirely. The Captain never would have blamed the wolf for being fatigued by the pressure they put on themselves, especially during an active conflict with the Red Eyes.

But why would they have passed out for two weeks?

'That must have surmised all their greatest concerns,' Garret once concluded.

But then whatever affair Resnick had with Edwin must have confused him further - far more than the professional observer noticed. It was far more common for soldiers to take certain comforts in each other than most units realized. For Resnick to be unaware of this, yet still be drawn to and take that comfort in his friend, the young wolf must have felt they crossed a line with The Order.

He tried to bottle it up.

But in the end, Captain Garret realized this too late. He thought it should be left to the devices of the young wolf for a time. The Captain should have intervened sooner since the worst was yet to come.

Yesterday, Resnick was found beaten and naked in the street. It struck something in Captain Garret unknown - a kind of pain and rage that brought out the worst in someone. And in that instance, Garret thought, not as a captain, but as Resnick's friend, he would do worse to whoever committed the assault.

But it was, in some way, a less horrific assault than Garret assumed. Resnick made no mention of the apparent 'mercenaries' abusing him that way, and certainly the Captain smelled nothing of the sort. But, again, he noticed the way Resnick withdrew. The young wolf kept something inside.

Resnick was scared and perhaps the world proved he was right to be.

Garret may not be the perfect ear, but he could listen. He knew Resnick was brash, but also the ways they were cautious - they were the ones who seemingly doused themselves in soap to keep their affair hidden, after all.

In the oncoming days, he hoped the subordinate would learn how his captain stayed in his office later than usual.

He hoped that there could be a quiet knock on his door and that the Captain could tell them to come in.

And that Garret could listen to everything.

...

But what if Resnick wanted intimacy? That was one question Captain Garret continued to struggle with.

The Order would absolutely not approve.

Should a commanding officer take part with his unit? It happened to the old wolf when he was younger, but that was a different place and time. But again, if Resnick struggled over this and needed someone to teach him his vigor was natural and delightful—

The room suddenly went black. Or had it been for a few seconds? Either way, the candle blew out and Garret was left with blue moonlight and sore paws. In the darkness of the room, he glanced over his claws. Difficult to see, yet he looked regardless. Unsatisfied, he dropped his paws to his lap.

“Oh."

A certain twitch between his legs caught his attention. The memories of a time long since past left their mark, apparently.

The gray wolf.

The sex.

The connection.

Resnick.

Did he actually look like them, or was that an older wolf's lust searching for a new outlet? As his body twitched, Garret suspected the latter. His tip tried to rise.

It was the same in the bath. For a moment then, the older wolf felt his body alive, but it passed.

But here it was again for the thought of Resnick's body.

It was uncommon, but Captain Garret had physically trained with them. Felt the fruits of their labor - the ways their bodies grew and took shape. With his own admittedly wide roster of partners, he would be hard-pressed to choose a tryst from any of them, and yet...

A gentle rub against his manhood drew out a long moan.

The older wolf was far from celibate, but he usually handled this sort of urge with grace. Instead, a gentle rub became a firm grab. His length thickened, all despite the layers of clothes. He toyed with his sheathe - played with his grip and the pace in how he rubbed his growing bulge.

Horny, but far from interested in being caught with a mess of pre, he unfastened the lace of his trousers. Or tried to, that is. He fumbled with the knot in the dark, but was too interested in getting to his knot to stop. Once, twice, three times his sore claws slipped from the damnable lace. When he finally loosened the knot enough to pull it undone, he sighed with relief.

Next, the lacing of his undergarment... which he quickly and unceremoniously shoved to his knees.

The shape of his package was barely noticeable in the moonlight. He looked over the tip protruding from his sheathe, normally a deep red but now just another dark shape. A sizable one, if Garret felt particularly prideful, but then again he had seen Sam naked. With a dejected sigh, his eyes traced further down his legs, to the undergarment he might have ripped with a shove.

“...This really is going to be a problem, isn't it?"

Despite his reservations, he leaned back in his chair. With eyes closed, he gripped his sheathe in both paws. The reaction was immediate. Another long sigh escaped him as his body tensed. Somehow, he felt as if the pleasure coursed from head to toe.

But what he felt most of all as he touched himself was the hardening in his sheathe and a certain emptiness. The old wolf only bottomed a few times, as he preferred to top, yet there was something instinctive in him. A sort of urge to try it again with a certain young gray wolf who needed a little courage.

Curiously, he dipped a finger below his balls to rub his taint. That same tenseness and pleasure drew a gasp, but at least he withheld his moan this time. More interesting, the reaction was stronger than he expected. Was his body going through some kind of change? He teased himself there again, though this time he tightened the grip on his sheathe to enhance it.

The results were electric, and quiet panting filled the office as Garret rubbed over himself with fervor.

His length protruded from his sheathe, leaking warm fluid over his paw. The slickness made stroking easier, but his paw ran up and down his cock at a limited pace. He was old enough to know he wanted the moment to last. Then again, he was old enough for his climax to take a while.

His pace increased, as did his panting.

As his mind loosened in the throes of pleasure, certain ideas permeated.

The thought of Resnick, nervous as he was, asking Garret to sexually engage him was a certain kind of thrill. Or perhaps it was the thought of the younger wolf asking for any sexual favor. Something naughty? Something nurturing? Hard to say, as the old wolf was unfamiliar with this new feeling.

An imagined young wolf stood in front of the desk. He doffed his gear for the captain. They waited for an order, an affirmation, an inclination. But Garret would act. He would kiss them, tease them, show them how good it could be to enjoy their youth.

Garret's knot pulsed in his sheathe. The finish was nearing, but his imaginations were incomplete. He tugged his cock and pushed his sheathe at the same time to get his most sensitive part in the open air.

Resnick would look good bent over the desk, thanking the captain.

His cock stood as a rigid spire.

Resnick would look fantastic on Captain's bed, laying on his back.

The entire length was slick, easy to stroke.

Resnick would look good in the hay—

“No!"

Garret's paws left his body so quickly that the finger against his taint scratched his thigh as he pulled it away. He absolutely needed to draw the line. Whatever he felt for Resnick, he would not use it to fetishize - to project his own youth on the young wolf at his most vulnerable.

His nose wrinkled at the smell of blood. His eyes even teared slightly at the stinging pain on his thigh. Would a good captain be so careless?

This kind of unhealthy fixation was the kind The Order frowned upon.

Garret sighed. He stood, pulled his garments up over his straining length and the stinging scratch, and walked to the door.

The scent of the candle would cover up the worst of his temptations, he knew how to hide unclean underwear, and he knew how to sneak a bit of gauze from Ludwig's stores.

As for the urge itself, Captain Garret would wait until he knew what he needed to do.

If Resnick approached Garret on their own, he would deal with what they wanted. Possibly his own urges as well, but those would not be forced. They would never be.

What else could he do? Resnick deserved better.