FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Disclaimer: This is a work of gay pornography featuring non-human characters. If it is illegal for you to read this or you find it distasteful, then please don't read it.

As a fun fact, I got about 10k+ words into another version of this story, all of it heavy plot and intrigue stuff, before deciding to throw it out and start over with this.

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Syrus flicked his eyes up as he heard the door of The Golden Gil across the street opening. He watched as three figures emerged from the inn, stepping out into the glow of the street lamps. Even as they started away through the crowded streets of Baguba Port, the three were easy to pick out. The bangaa's full torso was visible above the mostly-moogle crowd, and even the two nu mou were a good foot or so clear. The human resisted the urge to lean forward as he went over the descriptions in his head.

It was them. No doubt about it. He took a deep breath. The boring part of the job was done.

Syrus waited for the trio to disappear around the corner before he started forward, weaving through the crowd. He stepped into the alley adjacent to the inn, and moved along it. He stopped when he reached a downspout hanging down from the eaves. He eyed it, then pulled a hand out of his pocket. He laid his fingers against the copper, and let out an annoyed grunt at how cold it was.

"Well fuck," he muttered to himself. There was a time when he might have been able to just walk in through the front door of The Golden Gil, blend in with the few other humans in the crowds of airship crews, and then slipped upstairs while nobody was paying attention. That would have been much easier than what he had planned. That was before he'd gotten drunk one night and taken the bartender, Franz, upstairs, and well… he'd made a few miscalculations.

Besides, he had a deadline, and it wasn't smart to keep Tiamat waiting.

That left only one reliable, timely way to get up to the rooms on the second floor. Syrus sighed, then hooked his hands behind the downspout. He hopped up, and planted his feet against the wall. He started making his way up, running his hands up the back of the cool metal and digging the toes of his boots into depressions in the brickwork.

It wasn't a difficult climb, but the gradually encroaching cool numbness in his hands made him take it slow. Every now and again, he cast a glance over towards the street, but it was more out of habit than any real concern. He knew from experience that people rarely looked down alleys, and the odds were slim that anybody would even see him in the darkness.

By the time Syrus scrambled up onto the roof, his hands were numb from the cold. He shook them out, then blew on his fingers to warm them. He would need them for what came next. He walked along the roof, careful to not make any noise in the rooms below. The Golden Gil was laid out in a rectangular shape, with all of the rooms along the walls and a large courtyard in the centre. Syrus crouched down as he reached the inner edge of the roof, the sound of revelry echoing up from the courtyard down below. When he glanced over the edge, he could pick out dozens of gathered people, all sitting at their tables or standing by the bar. The whole space was lit by oil lamps, hoisted high on poles.

Syrus's eyes settled on the bar, and more specifically the moogle working behind that bar. He let out an annoyed sigh as he saw the cream-coloured fur, and that particular way the bartender was bouncing back and forth along the bar pouring and mixing drinks. Even from that height, Syrus could pick out the way the moogle's wings fluttered behind him as he moved, as though they were pushing him along faster. Of course Franz was working tonight. It would have been far too easy if he hadn't been.

Still, it shouldn't matter. Syrus was on the roof now, and the light of the oil lamps didn't reach up this high. He stepped closer to the edge, and glanced over and directly down. There were two levels of balconies going all around the walls of the courtyard, with staircases going back and forth between the two levels and the ground. Syrus slipped over the edge, onto the upper balcony, and crouched down beneath the banister. Completely hidden from sight, he moved along, glancing at the doors until he found one with '305' scrawled on it.

He moved to the door, still crouching, and reached up to try the handle. Locked. Not exactly a surprise, but it was always worth a try. Syrus reached into his pocket, and withdrew a small, fine hook and a narrow knife. He pressed his ear to the door, and closed his eyes. He had to actively ignore the noise of the revellers down below, and the occasional moments when Franz's voice echoed above the rest. Syrus carefully set to work on the lock.

It didn't take him long — maybe two minutes at the outside. He got that normal burst of satisfaction as he heard the click of the lock opening, and he leaned back from the door. He put his tools away, and then reached into another pocket in his carefully fitted grey pants. He pulled out a small pouch of dust, and laid a pinch of the stuff out on his palm. He leaned close to the doorjamb, then blew the dust over it.

The dust hung in the air for a few long moments — far longer than it ought to have. Then, it sparked a bright blue, just level with the knob where the door met the jamb. Syrus grinned to himself. Dispelling powder cost a fortune, but it always payed for itself many times over.

He was just tucking the pouch back into his pocket when he heard the footsteps, heavy on the stairs leading up to his balcony. He blinked, hoping for one moment that he'd made a mistake, and that the steps were moving away. But he knew better than that.

Syrus pressed forward, still crouched, and opened the door. He slid inside, and closed the door behind him as quickly and quietly as he could. He leaned against the door as it shut, and he pressed his ear to it, listening for the footsteps. His heartbeat was audible in his ears, thumping away.

The steps drew closer and closer, eventually reaching the door… and then going by. Syrus let out a long breath, and finally stood up straight. He turned to face the rest of the room, and gave it a quick look to steady himself.

"Alright… what did Tiamat want from here?"

He made his way over to the beds first. There were travelling bags laid out next to them, and he hefted up the first one he came across. He placed it on the bed for simplicity's sake, and then pulled it open.

He rooted through it for a bit, and at last pulled out a shirt. It was far too large, the cut too narrow in the stomach for a nu mou. Syrus doubted that a bangaa was carrying the powerful magical thing that Tiamat wanted. He set the bag back on the floor, and went over to the other bags.

He went through the other two travel bags as well, shifting clothing and books around. There was a small moneybag in one of them, but he ignored it. He had a bigger mark tonight. The other bag had a small bottle that briefly filled Syrus with hope. He popped the cork, and poured a drop out onto his finger tip. He gave a sniff, and his forehead creased. No, there was no damn way. He rubbed the slick stuff between two fingertips, and blinked. Lubricant. It was a bottle of lube.

Syrus returned the bottle to the bag, and stood up. Well, that was useless. Tiamat's agent had told him that he would know what he was looking for when he saw it; some sort of custom-built item of great magical power. He rubbed at his chin, then glanced over to the closet.

Opening it, he found what he would normally expect from wandering adventurers: along with a few traveling cloaks, there was a set of light armour and a blade for the bangaa, and some robes and rods for the nu mou.

His hands brushed over each of the rods, gently pushing them aside one at a time. There was probably magic on all of them, but nothing too remarkable. He'd seen other mages using similar rods in the past to enhance their powers.

He shifted one more out of the way, and then his hand stopped on the last rod. No, it was a bit long for a rod — this one was definitely a staff. Syrus raised an eyebrow, and pulled the length of polished black wood out of the cupboard. Barely visible, there was a pattern of diamonds engraved into the upper half of the staff, starting small and fine and getting larger as it approached the tip.

It certainly wasn't a normal mage staff, he knew that much. He'd never seen one like it before, and it was heavier than most staffs he'd held in the past. It was without a doubt the most remarkable thing in the room, so that meant it was probably—

The door opened.

Syrus turned, and froze in place as the sound of the revellers in the courtyard outside flooded into the room. The figure in the doorway was clearly a nu mou, and he was looking over his shoulder, calling to somebody. "I'm sure I left it in my bag, let me just—"

He turned to look into the room, and froze in place as well. There was a long, awful moment of silence.

"…well—" the nu mou began, and then Syrus charged forward.

The nu mou was quick on his feet, Syrus had to give him that. As soon as Syrus started moving, the nu mou raised a hand and called out a magical command. Pale blue light lanced out towards Syrus, and the human had to throw himself out to the side to dodge it.

Syrus rolled back up to his feet, the staff still clutched in his grip, and kept charging forward. He'd drawn a knife from his sleeve during his roll, and he raised it so that it flashed in the dim light coming in around the nu mou.

The nu mou got the message. He backed up, leaving more than enough room for Syrus to rush by. It wasn't until Syrus had stepped out onto the balcony that the nu mou yelled out, "Hey, that's my staff!"

Syrus ignored him, and kept tearing down the balcony. He came to an abrupt halt, arms pinwheeling, as he saw a towering mountain of bangaa muscle rush up the steps to block his path. The bangaa's hand was already on the hilt of his blade.

Syrus swallowed. A bangaa that big probably didn't even need a weapon to take him down. No, fighting him would be stupid, and trying to scrabble back up onto the roof would be equally stupid. So that left…

The bangaa got his blade out, then lunged out for Syrus. The human turned, grabbed onto the bannister ringing the balcony with the hand holding the knife, and hopped over it. He swung down and around, sending small jolts of pain up his forearm. He let go and dropped onto the balcony one level below. Then he was off running for the stairs again, trying to not feel too pleased with himself at the bangaa's frustrated yell.

He got down the stairs, and then he was in the open courtyard. Both the bangaa and the nu mou were yelling as they made their way down the stairs. The patrons at their tables were only just looking up, but all of them were moving too slowly to react. Syrus made a direct path towards the exit, going full tilt.

His eyes picked out another nu mou by the door — probably the third member of the group — readying to cast a spell. Syrus was high on adrenaline at this point, though. There was no way that one mage going to stop him. He watched the mage raise his hands, and pale blue light gathered in them. Syrus was already sidestepping as the mage pointed forward.

That was when he heard a sharp whistle, followed by a solid thunk and tug at the hem of his pants. He glanced down, and was stunned to find a knife stuck through the fabric of the hem of his pants, quivering as it stuck into the wood flooring of the deck.

He glanced up, and he had just enough time to mutter, "Well fuck," before the mage's spell washed over him. Then he was left frozen in place, not even blinking as he stared forward.

Everything was silent for a few moments as everybody stared at the human, frozen in place in the courtyard. Then, a raucous cheer arose from the patrons, and everybody returned to their drinking.

Syrus was left standing there, his muscles all locked up and eyes pointed forward. If he could have, he would have sighed in exasperation. The nu mou was walking over slowly, with patrons slapping him on the back and lifting glasses to him all the way. He looked a bit young for a time mage, and from the look on his face with each toast, he didn't know his way around a pub too well.

Syrus was interrupted from his inspection of the mage when he felt the knife in his pants' cuff being pulled free. A small hand patted him on the thigh, and an infuriating, familiar voice spoke from just next to him.

"Just couldn't stay away, could you, kupo?"

Franz stepped around in front of Syrus, letting the human see him. The moogle was like most of his kind; waist-high to a human, long rabbit ears, and a curious fluffy ball dangling from an antenna sticking from his head. Franz's fur was all a creamy off-white, and he kept it well-coiffed. The moogle was currently tossing his knife into the air, juggling it casually with one hand as he looked Syrus over. His batwings were still fluttering behind him.

Franz turned to look over at the nu mou as he drew closer. He caught his knife, and tapped the blade to his forehead in a mock salute. "That was a nice shot, kupo."

"Thank you for your help." The nu mou's eyes flicked back and forth between Syrus and Franz a few times. His hands were still partially raised, ready to cast if need be. "That knife was well-timed."

"Eh, don't mention it. I'm well acquainted with how he moves." In one of his more subtle moments, Franz shifted his grip from Syrus's thigh, and placed it firmly between Syrus's legs.

The nu mou raised his eyebrows, and his cheeks coloured a bit. Syrus wanted very badly to roll his eyes. I've seen what you keep in your bag, magic boy.

The nu mou introduced himself as Mathias, and he and Franz kept speaking. Syrus was only half-listening to them. He was focusing all of his efforts on pulling himself free from the paralysis. It wasn't the first time that a mage had locked him up like this, and in the past he'd found that if he willed himself hard enough, he could sometimes slip out of the spell. If he could just get the time to struggle and push against his bonds, then maybe he would--

A large hand fell on his shoulder, its grip like iron. A hissing voice spoke from behind Syrus, and his spirits fell. "You've recovered our new friend, Mathias."

"With some help." Mathias nodded at Franz, who had turned to look behind Syrus. The nu mou stepped over, and carefully pried the staff and the knife out of Syrus's hands. "Luke, meet Franz."

"A pleasure, kupo," the moogle said. He nodded over at Syrus. "Now while I'd love to leave him here as a trophy all evening, kupo, I think it might be prudent if we moved him back up to your room."

"I can oblige! I'm sure Cantor will be happy to speak with him." The hand on Syrus's shoulder moved down to grip his waist, another hand joining it. Luke, as his name appeared to be, lifted Syrus up with no difficulty, and put the rigid human over his shoulder. From this angle, Syrus could clearly identify the bangaa that he'd evaded earlier.

The trio marched their prisoner over to the steps, and started up. Partway up the stairs, the spell finally broke, and Syrus bent and draped over the bangaa's shoulder. Franz, who was a few steps behind Luke, glanced up at Syrus with a shit-eating grin. "Good morning beautiful, kupo."

Syrus rolled his eyes at him, but kept his mouth shut. Soon enough they reached the room, where the second nu mou, who appeared quite older, was waiting. He ushered the four of them inside, and closed the door behind them.

Luke carried Syrus through the room until he reached the beds. He dumped the human onto the nearest bed like a sac of potatoes, and then stood back, crossing his arms. Syrus wasn't sure whether the bangaa was relaxing or trying to look intimidating, but the bulging muscles along the lizard-man's forearms did the trick regardless.

The other three arranged themselves around the room. The younger nu mou, Mathias, was standing back by the cupboard, looking nervous and uncomfortable, but still alert. Franz, that infuriating grin still stuck on his face, was sitting on the edge of one of the other beds. He still had his throwing knife out, and was casually picking at his nails with it.

The older nu mou, who seemed to be the leader of the trio, stepped in past Luke, and positioned himself right in front of Syrus. Mathias had handed him back his staff, and he was looking it over carefully. He did this for a short while, the rest of the room silent but for the muffled sounds of the bar outside.

At length, the older nu mou seemed to be satisfied. He nodded, then glanced up at Syrus. Instead of the look of anger or rage that the human expected, the mage just raised an eyebrow, as though intrigued. He glanced over at Franz. "I assume that you know this human, Franz?" Great. The two of them were on a first name basis.

"Of course, kupo. His name's Syrus. He's a thief and a sweet-talker. Great lay, too." Franz shot an exaggeratedly sweet look over at Syrus, and the human rolled his eyes. Sure, tell everybody why don't you.

Much to Syrus's surprise, the nu mou didn't seem taken aback. He just cast a quick glance back and forth between Syrus and Franz. "Really? That good?"

"Oh, he's good. I mean, would've preferred if he hadn't walked off with my wallet the next morning, kupo, but I've had more expensive nights out that I've regretted more."

"Wait, you--" The nu mou stopped halfway through rounding on Syrus, then blinked. "Oh, I do apologize. I haven't introduced myself. Name's Cantor. Now, you stole his wallet after spending the night with him!?"

Syrus blinked. This was not how he'd expected this interrogation to go. He was able to keep his wits about him enough to respond, though. "I mean... I'm a thief? It's literally my job."

"Have you never heard that saying about mixing business and pleasure?" Cantor's voice sounded more chiding than angry at this point. Mathias, still standing back from the others, drew himself up to speak. Cantor pointed over at the younger nu mou without looking at him, and muttered, "Not now, Mathias. I'm making a point."

"A hypocritical one."

Cantor reached up to knead at his forehead. Syrus just stared at the two of them, now entirely off-balance. At length, the human cleared his throat, and muttered, "So... getting back to the bit where I stole your staff..."

"Ah, yes, thank you. Do you have any idea what this is?" Cantor waved the tip of the staff under Syrus's nose. The human tried to pull his head away, eying it uncomfortably.

"Yeah. Some weird magic instrument thing you built."

Cantor blinked, and out of the corner of his eye, Syrus saw Mathias and Luke do the same. A great, yawning pit of dread opened up in his guts as the older nu mou pulled the staff back, eying it. "Wait, what? This old thing?"

"It's not a powerful magical tool you built yourself?" Syrus ignored the sound of Franz chuckling to himself. The moogle appeared to have figured it out, too.

"Oh heavens no. This is just a walking stick."

Syrus blanched, and Franz began guffawing uproariously. The human stammered out, "But- but then why did you make such a big deal about it when I took it!?"

"Because a dear friend made it for me many years ago." Cantor said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It was Syrus's turn to knead at his forehead as the nu mou went on. "It's quite emotionally valuable to me."

"But then what the hell did Tiamat want me to steal from you!?" Syrus heard Franz's laughter cut out abruptly at the sound of that name. Syrus didn't have to look to know that the moogle was staring at him now, aghast. Fuck it. Syrus had already failed; revealing his employer wouldn't make that big of a difference at this point. "I went through all of your stuff. There was nothing else of note. What was this unique magical power that Tiamat needed so badly?"

Cantor was still eying him, though every now and again he cast a look over at Franz's horrified face. When he spoke, he addressed his question to the moogle. "Who is Tiamat?"

"She's the leader of a local crime syndicate," the moogle replied. He hadn't looked away from Syrus. "They do all sorts of things, from smuggling, to petty theft, all the way up to assassinations, kupo. Syrus, you took a job from fucking Tiamat?"

"It payed well and it sounded simple enough." The human shrugged helplessly.

"What was it that this Tiamat wanted you to find?" Cantor had pulled his staff back, and was tapping it against his chin as he thought. "Did she give you any details?"

Syrus considered refusing to answer for a few moments, but eventually just shrugged. Franz knew it as well as he did; he'd fucked up on a job for Tiamat. He didn't have much to lose at this point. "She said you'd made some sort of powerful magical item. Apparently something that people can use to change how they look?"

Syrus was going to go on, but he stopped when Luke, the so-far stoic and quiet bangaa, snorted. Syrus shot him a look, but the bangaa was just shaking his head, concealing a grin. Syrus glanced back over to Cantor as the nu mou began speaking.

"Oh dear. It appears that there has been a slight misunderstanding." Did the nu mou look... sheepish? "You see, I don't use a magical item for that spell. It's just something that I taught myself. And I somehow don't think it works... quite how she hopes."

"...Oh." Syrus blinked. He could feel Franz's eyes on him. So he'd been fucked from the start. "Well that's... shit."

"Oh cheer up. Don't worry, I'm not going to report this to the guard or anything."

"It's not the guard that he's worried about, kupo." Franz was still eying Syrus uneasily. "It's Tiamat. People who fail her have a tendency of, er... vanishing."

It took the two nu mou and the bangaa a moment to understand the full meaning of Franz's words. Then, all three gave a start at once, and all eyes in the room turned to Syrus.

"Ah. I see. So it's, er, that kind of crime syndicate." Cantor's hands came together and rubbed over one another. Syrus ignored him. He was staring forward, trying to count up how many favours people owed him. If he could get out of town and far enough from Baguba Port before Tiamat realized that he wasn't coming back, then maybe he could-- "Well, there's always the obvious solution."

Syrus blinked, and glanced up at Cantor. The older nu mou was grinning, now. Behind him, Luke and Mathias were both shooting him incredulous looks.

"Tiamat is going to be looking for a human of your description named Syrus. The, er, 'concealment' spell I know provides a somewhat permanent disguise." To Syrus and Franz's questioning looks, he said, "by permanent, I of course mean irreversible. And by disguise, I mean, a, um... complete physical transformation into another species?"

Everything was very quiet for a few moments. Then Syrus muttered, "Excuse me?"

"My spell. It, uh, well..." Cantor shrugged, and then gestured over at Mathias, who immediately blushed. "My student Mathias? One of the most gifted human black mages at the university in Cadoan. Luke here was a particularly talented human fighter from a desert tribe. All it takes is a bit of magic and some biological matter, and we can do something similar for you."

Syrus sat back on the bed, staring at the trio in front of him and trying to decide whether or not they were insane. Both Mathias and Luke had sheepish looks on their faces at this point, and neither was making eye contact with him. Insane. They were definitely insane.

But, well... what did he have to lose?

"Fine, you know what? Let's go for it. Work your magic on me." The human shrugged. "What's the worst that could happen?"

Cantor clapped his hands together. "Excellent. Now, the one thing we still need is the biological matter." He hesitated, and then glanced over at Franz. "I figure that... well, seeing as the two of you have already, well... you may as well provide the, er... biological matter."

Both Syrus and Franz stared at Cantor for a bit, not fully processing. It clicked for both of them at seemingly the same moment, because they suddenly looked at each other.

"I call top, kupo."

"Bullshit."

"You got to be on top last time!"

"Because I'm literally over twice your size."

"Oh please, kupo, I'm more than enough moogle to handle you."

"It's not a pride thing, it's relative mass!"

"More like somebody being too much a wuss to actually try taking it."

"Actually," Cantor said, and both Syrus and Franz turned to look at him, "for the spell to work, Franz is going to have to be on top." He shrugged, then glanced to Syrus. "Sorry."

Franz shot a devilish look over at Syrus. The human just glared back at him, eyes narrowed as he considered for a few moments. At length, he shook his head and muttered, "Fuck it, fine. I'm probably going to get gutted in a back alley anyways, so why not?"

"That's the spirit!" Cantor clapped his hands together, then hesitated. "Sort of. A bit more nihilistic than normal, but it'll do."

"It'll certainly do for me, kupo." Franz had hopped down from the bed he was sitting on, and was walking towards Syrus's bed. He'd sheathed his knife, and was reaching down to the buckle of his belt. "Are you lot going to just watch?"

"I have to be here to cast the spell, naturally," Cantor said. His words were somewhat diminished by how he was rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "I hope you don't mind. Mathias, Luke?"

"Nope!" Mathias was still kneading at his forehead. The younger nu mou started towards the door. "I've seen it before."

"Never with a moogle!"

"Don't care! I wanted a nice night out in Baguba. Luke, you coming?"

"Yes. I assume you have this under control, Master Cantor?"

"Oh, most certainly! Have fun! Luke, try to not get your tail caught in any more doors!"

"It was one time..."

The bangaa followed the younger nu mou out, shaking his head. Syrus's attention was drawn away from them when Franz hopped up onto the bed. The moogle's belt was unbuckled, and he was beginning to work his pants down. "It's too bad, kupo. I don't mind an audience."

Syrus stared as the moogle parted the front of his pants. His eyes wandered over the creamy off-white fur, down between the moogle's bared thighs. It wasn't the first time he'd seen that cock, and Franz was far from the only moogle he'd ever fucked. Still, it felt... odd.

"What's wrong, kupo?" Franz had worked his pants off by this point, leaving him in just the long-sleeved shirt and vest he wore for bartending. He placed a hand on Syrus's chest, and raised an eyebrow at him. "I wouldn't have pegged you as 'shy' after last time."

"Last time there wasn't a perverted old nu mou watching."

"You know I can help things along if need be," Cantor said in a voice that he probably thought was helpful. "I know a spell or two that could--"

"No need, kupo." With that, Franz's gently stroking hand on Syrus's chest pushed harder against him. It wasn't rough, but it was enough to press Syrus's back into the bed, his legs hanging over the edge. Before Syrus could react, Franz had stepped over him, straddling him. The moogle's weight came down onto his chest, keeping him pressed firmly into the covers.

Franz's hand cupped up under Syrus's chin, and guided his gaze up. At the same time, the moogle leaned forward and pressed his lips to the human's.

Syrus tensed for a moment in surprise. The moogle had been pretty damn forward last time, too. Syrus was still thinking about the odd situation, and the nu mou he'd just met who was watching them, and how fucked he was as soon as Tiamat learned about his fuck up. He was tense, but Franz was insistent. After a few moments of the moogle's warm fur brushing against his face, and the taste of Franz's tongue and breath in his mouth, he melted back, groaning. He returned the kiss, and Franz bobbed his head, almost as though he was nodding in approval.

Syrus had to lift his arms to slide them out from between Franz's straddling knees. He brought them up, and laid his hands against the moogle's shoulders, kneading at them. The warmth and weight of the moogle pressed in against the upper half of his body, making him yearn for more of it to cover him. The moogle finally broke the kiss and pulled back, just looking Syrus in the eye. The human met his gaze, both of them panting to catch their breaths.

The moogle raised an eyebrow, and Syrus felt him shifting above him. One knee left the bed, and Syrus's voice caught in his throat as the moogle's footpaw brushed against the now obvious bulge in his pants. The small footpaw just pressed against it at first, giving Syrus just enough pressure to let him know it was there. Then that foot began shoving harder, more firmly. Syrus tensed, his forehead creasing as that paw dragged up and down, sending jolts of pleasure through him, even through his clothing.

Syrus closed his eyes during one particularly hard stroke, breathing out sharply through his nose. He felt the warm weight on his chest shifting, and the paw pulled away from his crotch. He opened his eyes again, and Franz was right in front of him. The moogle was kneeling with his knees straddling Syrus's chest, placing his crotch right on level with Syrus's head.

Franz was just finishing tugging off his vest and undershirt. He tossed them aside, leaving the creamy white fur of his chest and belly bared. Syrus leaned forward and buried his face in the warm fluff, nuzzling at the lean muscles underneath. Franz's nimble paws ran through Syrus's short hair, and Syrus lost himself in the warmth and the vaguely animal scent of the moogle's fur.

At length, the hands running through Syrus's hair came to a halt on his forehead. They pressed gently, and Syrus pulled away, panting for breath. He glanced up, and his eyes met Franz's. The moogle was panting, too, a hint of red showing through his white fur. The moogle nodded downwards, to his bared member. "Be my guest, kupo."

Syrus let his eyes follow the moogle's gesture down, and the human swallowed. Franz's member was inches from Syrus's face. The last time the two of them had fucked, Franz was... well, he was good. Syrus was far from inexperienced, but he spent a lot more time on top than he did bottoming. Still...

He leaned forward slowly, the moogle's scent only growing stronger as he got closer. Syrus opened his mouth, and just like that the heat of Franz's member entered him. The human closed his lips around the shaft, and felt the moogle tense above him. Syrus started bobbing, letting his lips drag along the length. It was short, compared to a human, but plenty thick enough to make up for it.

Franz's fingers returned to Syrus's hair, and the human felt them tensing as he worked at the shaft. Franz's breaths were already heavy, and his head was tilted forward. Every now and again he let out a moaned, "kupo." Whenever his hips bucked, Syrus felt it in his entire torso; the thighs shifting on either side of his chest, the moogle's midriff pressing to his forehead, hips bucking against his face. It was never uncomfortable; Syrus could take him easily.

The next few thrusts were harder, the moogle angling himself to press the tip of his member against Syrus's tongue. As he did, Syrus's eyes rolled back as the taste of the moogle grew stronger. He knew pre when he tasted it. He slid his tongue along that head, guiding the drops of pre to the back of his throat.

By this point, both the moogle and the human had forgotten all about the nu mou watching them. They didn't notice as he began whispering under his breath, and a pale blue light began dancing along his fingertips.

It took a few moments for Syrus to notice that anything was happening. He was too lost in the rhythmic sensation of pressing into those thrusts. His eyes were clenched shut at this point as he focused on meeting the moogle's pace. There was a heat building in him, starting in his throat and sinking deep into his chest and stomach, but he ignored it for now. Franz's breath was coming heavier, and his grip on the human's head was getting tighter. His handpaws ran along the human's scalp, encouraging him. They slid down to the human's ears, and stroked over them. They went further than either the human or the nu mou were expecting.

Both of them blinked, and froze. Syrus glanced up, his lips halfway down Franz's cock. He met the moogle's gaze, and the two of them stared at each other for a long moment. It was Franz who let his fingers move, and rub up along the human's ears to find the slightly pointed tips, a good inch longer than they should have been.

Franz's hands stopped there, resting on the points of Syrus's ears. They hadn't broken eye contact, yet, and both of them were still tense. At length, the moogle raised an eyebrow down at the human.

Syrus took a few deep breaths in through his nose, letting the hot air blast back out over the moogle's belly and crotch. Then, he nodded ever so slightly, and slid his head forward again, running his lips over the moogle's cock. Franz clenched his eyes shut, and let out a groan. He could feel the slight quiver running through the human's body, so he held his hips back from bucking too hard.

Syrus, for his part, kept suckling and rocking his head. He could still taste the drops of pre, and he forced himself to swallow them down, adding to the heat building in his guts. He was nervous, but he tried to push through that with the heat of Franz's body overtop of him. He started noticing things - small things, really. There was a brief, rough itchiness under his clothes. It made him uncomfortable for a moment, but then it began to fade.

This confused him until he shifted his position. He'd been mostly laying flat before, but it was beginning to feel like he was craning his neck to keep at a level with Franz's dick. Syrus got his elbows under him, and lifted his torso up a bit, and that was when he noticed that his clothes felt... off. They'd been perfectly fitted to him before - designed to be tight and allow freedom of movement. Now they were loose, probably a size or two too big for him. He kept bobbing his head along that shaft for a few seconds before he realized what that meant.

He might have reacted more strongly at that point, but Franz's hands suddenly went from his twitching, itchy ears to the back of his head. Syrus's eyes widened as he felt Franz beginning to buck harder, his grip getting tighter on his head. The moogle's voice was rough.

"Gonna, uh, kupo... Do you want to, um...?"

In response, Syrus slid his arms around Franz's hips, and pushed himself forward harder. Franz shuddereed against the changing human, and he drove his shaft in along Syrus's tongue a few more times. Then, he yelped out a sharp, "Kupo!"

Syrus clenched his eyes shut, and focused on the throbbing heat of the cock in his mouth as it gave a hard jerk. Cum spattered into his mouth, and he swallowed it down on instinct. As soon as he did, the heat inside of him intensified a hundredfold, making his whole body shake. He grunted as he felt the cock seem to push deeper into his mouth, almost reaching his throat as it spurted again.

This time, he could actually feel himself getting shorter as he swallowed the cum. It was disorienting, though it probably would have been worse if he'd been standing. His head slipped back as his torso got shorter, letting Franz's spent cock slide through his lips. It was almost as though the head caught just inside Syrus's lips, though, as the changing man's face pulled out into an ever-so-slight muzzle. Then Syrus fell back against the bed, chest heaving, eyes wide as the heat kept rolling through his body.

If he was expecting a break, he didn't get one. Franz was on him a moment later, the moogle still panting from his orgasm. Franz lay his body across Syrus's, and pressed his lips to the changing human's. Syrus was assaulted by the twin feelings of Franz's seemingly much larger body, and the oddness of kissing with a mouth that wasn't a shape that he recognized. He just lay back and let the feelings wash over him, accompanied by that continuing heat pounding through his body.

If Franz was winded after his climax, it didn't show. He pulled away from kissing Syrus, and then he was sliding off of the changing, shrinking man. The moogle took Syrus's shoulder, and then lifted his torso until the shrinking man was sitting up.

Syrus felt the moogle sitting on the bed behind him, and then moogle's hands were reaching around him. One rubbed up under his now comically-large shirt, stroking over his stomach and making him groan. The other slipped under the loose waistband of his pants, and closed around his cock. Syrus's breath caught in his throat as the moogle's nimble fingers slid over his shaft, and he couldn't hold back the bucking of his hips. Everything was so sensitive!

The moogle kept working over his shaft, making Syrus gasp and writhe back against him. At the same time, Franz's free hand began lifting the seemingly enormous shirt off of Syrus's body, having no trouble slipping it over his head and tossing it away. Syrus glanced down at himself, and was stunned to see soft white fur covering his heaving chest and stomach. With the shirt out of the way, he was also able to see just how loosely his pants were hanging off of him. Every time Franz's hand stroked upwards, it lifted the waistband enough to show him his hips, thighs, and cock.

Syrus watched, his chest heaving, eyes bleary, as each of those strokes up and down seemed to get a bit... shorter. It didn't take him long to recognize that his shaft was shrinking; it seemed to be getting shorter faster than it was narrower, making the shaft look a bit chubby in the moogle's hand. It wasn't until Franz's free hand came down and cupped around his thigh, and then pulled back that Syrus realized that the rest of his body had continued shrinking, too. Franz had no trouble pulling Syrus back up onto his lap; the two must have been almost the same size at this point. With his hips and rump elevated, Syrus gave a few kicks to his pants, letting the loose things slide free.

Franz nuzzled at the back of Syrus's head, running his muzzle through Syrus's fur as he kept stroking at him. Syrus was having a hard time keeping up - the heat that was suffusing his body hadn't let up, and his cock felt like it was going to explode from all of the stimulation. Just when he thought he could take no more, that heat pounding through his veins flowed away from his extremities, and away from that pit in his guts. Instead, the last of it pooled in his upper back, and at the very top of his head.

It was his back that he felt first. The heat pushed and pushed at twin points just in from his shoulder blades, until the flesh seemed to yield and flow outwards with the heat. Syrus gasped for air, eyes wide as the soft fur of his back was broken up by the smooth, leathery skin of a pair of growths sliding out of his back. Their coming wasn't gradual; it was sharp and sudden, and then the two new limbs gave small shakes to free themselves. Syrus could feel their weight on his back; more than that, he could feel the webbed skin stretched tight between long, narrow fingers as they buffeted at the air for the first time. Wings. He had fucking wings. Tiny, probably like any moogle's wings, but they sure as hell felt big when compared to their absence moments before.

This left only the heat building at the tip of his head. He leaned back, moaning openly. Franz's hand began stroking slower, harder. His muzzle moved from the back of Syrus's head to the base of one of his long ears, nuzzling at the fur. The heat kept building and building in Syrus's head, until it began pressing out. At first it was just a sensitive nub, but soon it pressed out further: a narrow length of antenna, sensitive in the air of the room. As it pushed out further, the very tip seemed to almost inflate outwards, first as a small bulb, but soon taking on the definite shape of a fluffy ball. Syrus could feel the slight, buoyant weight of the ball there, dangling on the end of the antenna.

It stretched further and further, the antenna soon forming a gradual, bobbing arc. Syrus's eyes crossed to look up at it, and he might have commented on it if Franz hadn't drawn his attention away. The moogle suddenly leaned forward, his hot breath blasting across Syrus's tall ear. He nibbled along the edge of that ear, and all of a sudden, his fingers came to a stop at the base of Syrus's cock. Syrus moaned and bucked his hips, his shaft throbbing in the moogle's motionless grip.

Franz let him struggle like that for a long couple seconds, and then hissed into Syrus's ear. "Cum for me, kupo."

His hand moved, and he gave a few more powerful strokes. Syrus cried out, and writhed against the other moogle's body, and he came. His small wings buffeted Franz's chest as every lean muscle in his much smaller body tensed at once. His hips gave a few hard jerks, and then his cum spattered across the bedsheets in a spurt. Syrus cried out again as a second spurt came, smaller than the first, followed by a third and final one. Franz kept stroking at him, drawing out his orgasm, but Syrus was spent.

He collapsed backwards, letting the entirety of his weight fall against Franz's chest. The other moogle let out a small, "Oof!", but he lay back gently under the new weight. The two of them just lay on the bed for a few long moments, both of them catching their breaths.

"Well!" Syrus gave a start, and he felt Franz tense underneath him at the sound of the voice. They both glanced up, and only then did either of them remember that they'd had an audience. Cantor was standing back, the older nu mou looking sheepish at having startled them. "That was... certainly quite a performance!"

Syrus blanched, and then reached down to cover himself up, suddenly embarrassed. Hell, what was the point, the nu mou had just watched him suck somebody off. Still, Syrus was appreciative when Franz tossed him one of the pillows from the bed. He tried to ignore how big it felt as he covered himself with it, then shot Cantor a look. "Glad to hear that you enjoyed it, kupo."

Syrus blinked as the small sound slipped out of his mouth, and he tried to ignore the grin that flashed across Cantor's face. Beside him, Franz muttered, "So that is a biological thing, kupo. I always wondered that."

"Oh shut up, kupo." Syrus tensed. It had come out without him even thinking about it; he might not have noticed that he'd said it if Franz hadn't shot him a triumphant look right afterwards.

"How are you feeling?" Cantor had stepped a bit closer. He was keeping a respectful distance, but Syrus could tell that he wanted to come over and examine him. "I mean, I've never seen any negative side effects to this spell, but I'm always curious..."

Syrus shot him a look, and considered for a moment. Then, he muttered, "Uh... is there a mirror in here, kupo?"

Cantor raised an eyebrow, but gestured over to a full length mirror on the wall. Syrus gulped, then pushed the pillow to the side. He moved to the edge of the bed, passing over his old clothes, and then slid to the ground.

As his feet touched, he had to grab the bed for support. Everything was... bigger. Taller than he remembered. It was disorienting in a way that he wasn't ready for.

"Everything alright?"

Syrus glanced up at Cantor as the nu mou approached... and then kept looking up. The nu mou was almost twice his height now. He wasn't sure his eyes could get any wider as he looked up at him, mouth dropping open. It took him a few moments to reply. "...kupo."

"Oh yeah." Franz had come over, lying belly down on the bed with his head hanging over the side. His wings were flicking lazily on his back as he shot Syrus a look. "You're going to find yourself basically at crotch height with everybody now, kupo. I wouldn't stress about it; turns out you've got a good mouth on you. Might just be more convenient."

Syrus glared over at the other moogle, but Franz just grinned back. Syrus rolled his eyes, and then walked forward. He slipped past Cantor, trying to ignore the fact that his face only came up to about the nu mou's stomach now. He made his way over to the mirror, and then stared into it at his reflection.

A slim moogle with pearly white fur stared back at him. Syrus's musculature had always been toned, but the change in species seemed to have taken that further. His tall white ears flicked as he looked himself over, from his toes to the red, fluffy ball hanging from his antenna. He hesitated for only moment before turning around, and glancing over his shoulder at the reflection of his leathery bat wings and his pert rump.

"So, kupo?" Franz's voice drifted over from the bed. "Thoughts?"

"My first thought is that I'm going to need to borrow some clothes from you, kupo." Syrus reached up to rub at the back of his head, and wound up bumping against the base of his ear. He tried to ignore the feeling as he went on. "After that... I mean, it's a good disguise, but I probably shouldn't stay in Baguba. Wouldn't want Tiamat hearing about me disappearing, then some moogle named 'Syrus' showing up, and putting two and two together, kupo."

"You're welcome to come with us," Cantor piped up. He waited a long moment, then inclined his head. "I can promise plenty of crotches at your eye level."

Syrus glared at the nu mou from across the room. Cantor had a perfectly sweet and innocent look on his face, and Franz was shooting him a delighted grin. Syrus planted his fists firmly on his hips, and looked up at the nu mou, matching his gaze.

Then he shrugged. "You know what, kupo? Sign me up."