Bond of Brothers - Part 7

Gerald didn’t get any sleep that night. After Kristian eventually went back to bed, he lay awake on the couch, staring into the darkness. He’d resisted the urge to finish himself off with Kris snuggled up against him and lightly snoring, although it had been a struggle. After an hour or so, he’d gently nudged the fawn awake, returned his underwear and prodded him back to bed. And then he’d finished himself off, into a towel borrowed from the laundry hamper, which he’d then also used to mop up Kristian’s mess from the mezzanine floor.

The poor fawn had been so pent up, and his relief had been so palpable and immediate that it got Gerald thinking. If Kris really needed someone to get off with, as he usually did with Dieter, would Gerald have the strength to refuse him? Would another refusal end up causing him any harm? Or, indeed, would beating off with Kris cause the kid even more harm than denying him? Gerald was his biological father, after all, and such things between fathers and their offspring were wrong on so many levels... but it made Gerald’s cock strain with arousal at the very thought of entertaining such a taboo.

He was up early in the morning, and went downstairs to put coffee on and cook breakfast. He felt a small pang of anxiety when he heard hoofsteps moving around upstairs, worried that the previous night’s incident would be written across his chest like a neon sign for Bruno to see and discern. 

“M-morning, Uncle Gerry...” came a small, sleepy voice. 

Gerald’s relief left him as a sigh, and he turned to face Kristian. 

“Morning, Kris. I’m making crepes, you want some?”

“Uncle Gerry? I...” he faltered.

“It’s okay buddy, what’s wrong?”

“About last night...”

“Kris, if you want me to completely forget that happened, consider it done.”

Kristian seemed to relax slightly, and nodded. Gerald’s heart sank. 

“Alright. I... this is the last time I’ll ever mention it if that’s what you want. But... you seem far more relaxed, you clearly needed that.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I didn’t realise how crabby I was being.”

Gerald chuckled. “That tends to happen when you’re that backed up. Look... don’t take this the wrong way, but... if you need to do it, don’t hesitate to come out, alright? I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. And I’d... I’d enjoy your company, if you take my meaning.”

Kristian’s ears flushed pink, and he squirmed slightly, adjusting the crotch of his pyjama pants. Gerald’s eyes flicked downward, and his anxiety fled, to be replaced by a knowing half-smile. 

“Yeah, me too,” Kris replied.

“Me three!”

Both Gerald and Kristian all but leapt out of their skins as Bruno appeared between them, clapping them both firmly on the shoulders and looking back and forth between his brother and his son. “What are we talking about?”

“Just morning wood, dad,” Kris lied, looking up at Bruno with wide, innocent eyes. 

“Ahh, yep. Gotcha. We’re all guys, it happens.”

“Ain’t that the truth. Whole house reeks of it,” Gerald rolled his eyes, flipping a crepe out of his frypan onto a plate, and pouring another helping of batter.

“At least breakfast doesn’t smell like a house full of dicks,” Bruno commented with a throaty chuckle, moving past Gerald to the kitchen bench, where he began slicing strawberries. 

Dieter joined them a few minutes later, his hair and half of his face pressed flat by his pillow. Knuckling sleepily at his eyes, he stumbled into the kitchen and hauled himself up onto a stool beside his twin brother. “Why’s everyone up so early?” He complained.

“I smelt crepes,” Bruno shrugged. 

“I was awake anyway,” Gerald replied, simultaneously.

“I needed a piss,” Kris ventured.

“Fuck. Forgot about that,” Dieter muttered, gasping and surging to his hooves to rush past the kitchen to the downstairs bathroom. 

Bruno chuckled, and Kris shook his head. “How could he possibly forget that?”

Bruno and Gerald exchanged a glance, and the two older males shared a smirk. “It... happens,” Bruno muttered.

“No it doesn’t, what are you talking about?”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing,” Bruno leaned over to ruffle Kristian’s hair with a strawberry-smelling hand, and the fawn snorted.

The four stags ate crepes and drank coffee together, and the conversation between them was quiet and comfortable. Bruno seemed to detect there’d been a shift in the relationship between his sons and Gerald, but he wasn’t suspicious, nor did he ask any awkward questions. If anything, he was happy to see a little more openness permeating their family - to him, it seemed that things were starting to stabilise at last, and Gerald was earning his place with them. 

Dieter and Kristian left for school shortly after eight in the morning, almost an hour after breakfast, and once they were alone in the house together, Bruno turned to his brother and embraced him. Gerald gasped and stiffened briefly, but quickly relaxed, and hugged back. 

“What’s that for?” He asked.

“Do I need a reason?” Bruno retorted, squeezing fondly for a minute before releasing the younger stag. “Just wanted you to know I really appreciate everything you’re doing, I don’t want you to feel like we’re taking you for granted.”

Gerald blushed, and flattened his ears briefly. “Don’t mention it, Bruno. I’m worried about you though, you’re working your ass off at the moment. You’re an old fart, you’re gonna give yourself a stroke if you don’t slow down a bit.”

There wasn’t a hint of a smile on Gerald’s lips, but his prickly humour covered genuine concern, and Bruno snorted. “You little fucker, I’m strong as a minotaur! Forty is the new thirty, you know.”

“So I’m told. Usually by forty year olds with beer guts and cracked hooves who wish they were thirty again,” Gerald smirked. 

“Hey hey hey, do you see a beer gut here?” Bruno lifted his shirt, exposing his torso. 

He wasn’t sculpted the way he’d been in his youth, and he was a little thicker around the middle than Gerald, but he was strong. There was barely any visceral fat on Bruno, it just seemed like all of his muscle groups had fused into one amorphous, fuzzy mass over the years. Gerald stared. His hands, of their own accord, made their way to his brother’s midriff, resting on either flank in a distinctly unbrotherly fashion. 

“Fuck, it’s been a while, huh?” he murmured, eyes lifting to meet Bruno’s. 

“Sure has. Steady on there, cowboy, I gotta get my ass to work,” Bruno chuckled, dropping his shirt over Gerald’s hands, which lingered in place.

“I haven’t bothered to ask you, Bruno, how’s your love life?” Gerald asked abruptly. 

“What love life?” He replied instantly. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but raising twins sort of precludes anything like that from happening, Gerry. Nah nah, I don’t mean that as a slight on you.”

Bruno hugged his brother again as Gerald’s eyes dropped, the younger buck seeming on the cusp of saying something self-deprecating.

“I’m here now, Bruno. If you need me to take over some parenting, like, properly, I’m happy to. You need a life.”

“No I don’t. The boys are my life, Gerry. They bring me so much joy and happiness, I don’t need anything else. I don’t even know if I could manage it, you know? There was a short time where I resented you pretty hard for turning my life upside down, but that was years ago. I tried dating again more recently, once the twins grew up enough to be able to look after themselves a little. But you know what?”

“No, what?”

“The whole time I was on a date, all I wanted to do was come home to them.”

“You’re shitting me, right?”

“Not a word of a lie. I was lying to myself more than anything, trying to convince myself that I was missing out on something by being a single dad. I’ve had a few casual hookups here and there, a few dates, but it all feels so disingenuous that I come away feeling rotten, every time. I’ve never had a second date.”

“I sure as hell didn’t see that coming.”

“You and me both, Gerry,” Bruno refilled his coffee mug, and lifted it to his muzzle. 

World’s Best Dad, the mug read. Gerald smiled. 

“It’s taken me a damned long time to figure it all out, Gerry,” Bruno continued. “I spent so many years stressing about why I didn’t feel any need to be in a relationship, or even to fuck the way most guys seem to be so desperate to do, that I completely overlooked the most important thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“To be happy. And I’m happy as a single dad. Truly.”

***

The conversation he’d had with Gerald played on Bruno’s mind for most of the day. For a buck who’d always assumed he was bisexual, coming to terms with asexuality had been a journey. Equally, Bruno wasn’t the type to define himself by only his sexual orientation, so until it was brought to his immediate attention it wasn’t something he tended to devote a lot of conscious thought to. 

As he dismounted his heavy cargo bike out the front of his workshop in the artisan district, Bruno turned and looked out over the town of Stillwater Cove below the hills, and was taken by surprise as a wave of intense satisfaction rolled over him. The noises of traditional light industry behind him mingled with birdsong and the occasional toot of a boat horn from the docks, and as his eyes scanned the pretty coastal town, the resonant ‘bong’ of the school bell signalled the start of Dieter and Kristian’s day. 

Although the backbone of his business was still woodworking, and something that Bruno took great pride in, the stag was nothing if not adaptable. Alessandro De Rosa, the coffee roaster he shared his workshop space with, had experienced a significant upturn in the preceding year, and had expanded his business beyond Stillwater Cove inland to Frawic, the state capital. Along with hiring several junior roasters and bringing his son in as a partner, Alessandro had started looking for an artisanal potter to make a range of crockery to supply his flagship cafes.

Bruno, after some thought, had offered to learn. 

“You’re not serious?” Sandro had initially reacted, the little dragon barely hiding his incredulity.

Less than three months later, Bruno had begun producing crockery of a standard that was at the very least, marketable. It was rustic and never quite perfectly symmetrical, but more than fit for purpose. 

Alessandro leaned on Bruno’s workbench, arms crossed over his apron as he watched the enormous stag turn coffee cups on his potter’s wheel. A smile quirked the corners of his lips, and his long, expressive tail swayed in a decidedly feline fashion. 

“Have you thought about getting certified as a potter, Bruno?” 

The stag chuckled, eyes flicking briefly up to Alessandro. “What, attend some vocational training course to get a piece of paper that says I can do what I can do?”

“Well...”

“If I was twenty, I would,” the stag continued, slowing the potter’s wheel with his bare hand and lifting another cup from its clay-spattered surface with a spatula. “But I’m not. I’m never going to need to prove to any employer or manager that I have the skills. Simply learning it is enough, for me.”

Splat.

Bruno worked the wheel up to speed again, dipped his clay-encrusted hands in a bucket of water and began turning another cup.

“Fair enough. How’s your family, is your brother still staying with you?”

Bruno chuckled. “Not much gets past you, does it? Yes, he’s still there. Honestly without him I probably wouldn’t have had the time to learn pottery, he’s earning his keep.”

“How are the boys with that?”

“Fine, I think. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I haven’t seen much of them lately, that’s all...”

Bruno grunted. It was true; Dieter and Kristian had always frequented the workshop after school, even if only briefly, and it had been some time since they’d visited. Scooping up another cup onto his spatula and transferring it to a firing tray full of identical cups, Bruno paused, letting the wheel spin to a slow stop. 

“Yeah, the dynamic has definitely changed. But I think it’s for the better, overall. On balance. Maybe.”

“You seem entirely uncertain of that.”

“Gerald’s definitely rocked the boat. He’s the boys’ biological father, did I ever mention that?”

“No, that definitely adds a layer of complexity,” Sandro harrumphed empathetically.

“Sure does. Still, they’ve taken a really mature attitude to it all; he’s Uncle Gerry to them, and I think everyone’s happy with that. Honestly I think the biggest upset this month has been Dieter getting into his first relationship. At least I think it’s a relationship. Kristian’s been very uh... high-strung, for a couple of weeks. The twins are virtually never apart, usually, but he’s been having a fair bit of time to himself lately and I think it’s been a shock to the system for him. Honestly I’m a bit unsure of how to approach that particular can of worms. I thought I’d have at least another couple of years before sex and relationships started being a feature of their lives.”

“Understandable. What about you though? You’ve spoken about your brother and your sons, but something’s subtly different about you too.”

“Okay, I correct my prior statement. Nothing gets past you, does it?”

Alessandro gave a coy half-smile, and sipped his coffee.

Bruno sighed, and looked up at the dragon. “I think Gerald reappearing out of nowhere has been the catalyst for me to look at myself in a new light,” he began, “I’ve... I’ve always thought there was something missing in my life, a partner, a significant other - a mother-figure for the boys.”

Alessandro pulled a stool across the brickwork floor, and perched upon it. 

“Gerald asked me this morning if I wanted him to take over more of the parenting, while I focus on my social and love life.”

“And...?”

“It’s been knocking around in my head for a few years, but today was the first time I’ve actually spoken it aloud to anyone but myself - I don’t need that. I’ve always told people I value friendship above romance, but I’ve never really been able to categorically say what that means. Pretty sure I’m ace, Sandro.”

“Ace?”

“Asexual.”

The dragon snorted, and seemed on the brink of incredulous laughter.

“No no, I’m serious. The boys aren’t my biological sons, and I’ve only ever had one relationship. We were still in high school, and it was very much hormonally driven. I caught up with her again about six months ago, and she seemed very keen to launch back into whatever it was we had when we were teenagers.”

“You seem less than enthused.”

“That’s the truth of it. I like her, I do, and at the time I was swept up in the moment and rolled along with it, but I was actively suppressing the need to walk away. Turning my life upside-down for the sake of a relationship terrifies me, Sandro. I used to think it was just because I’m old and stubborn, but I’m pretty certain now that there’s more to it than that.”

“Bruno, you’re the most sex-positive guy I think I’ve ever met, this doesn’t seem right!”

“True, but that doesn’t mean I want to do it, you know? I don’t feel the urge, I never have. Society’s always told me that’s how I ought to feel, that chasing tail is just what you do, and there’s something wrong with you if you don’t. But every time I’ve been in an intimate situation with someone, especially since the boys came along, it’s just felt entirely contrived and forced.”

“This is a big discovery for you, isn’t it? I respect that. Your kids come first, but don’t write yourself off just yet. I’m sure lots of people would leap at the chance to be with you.”

With that, Alessandro stood, and moved past Bruno back to his coffee roaster, patting the stag’s shoulder on his way. 

Bruno bristled. He’d never felt demeaned in quite the way Alessandro had just implied, and while he knew the dragon’s words came from a good place, they stuck in his throat. 

***

With the house empty once more but for himself, Gerald took his time cleaning up the breakfast dishes. Every time he thought about Kristian, his heart leapt in his chest, almost in the same way it had always done when he thought about Armand, the beautiful okapi boy with whom a single night of pleasure in Frawic had cost him his stage career. 

Draining the kitchen sink, Gerald dried his hands and began writing a list of groceries to buy. 

Always in the back of his mind was how Bruno would react if anything inappropriate happened between he and Kris. For the first time in his adult life, Gerald felt like he was home; he felt like he belonged and had something worth fighting for. The thought of screwing it up, throwing it to the gutter as he had so easily done in Frawic, terrified him. 

Keys. Phone. Money. Shopping bags. Testicles, spectacles, wallet & watch, Gerald’s mind recited, in his father’s angular Scordomnian accent. It had been years since such casual memories of Ulrich had come to him. That was another reunion that would have to happen soon, Gerald supposed. He hadn’t so much as contacted his parents in a decade. What a shithead you are, he told himself. With a grunt, he pulled shut the front door, and began walking towards the Old Quarter and its shops.

In almost equal measure, Gerald wasn’t sure that anything that was in his mind would amount to screwing up whatever sense of belonging he had in Bruno’s home. He was hardly about to rape his own kid. Not a chance. All he was offering to Kristian was an outlet for what was undeniably an exhibitionist streak in his young sexuality. The fawn’s inability to get off alone worried Gerald, and he resolved that if Kris ever did approach him with intent, he would discuss that openly with him. 

“Hi! What can we get for you today?”

Gerald started. He barely noticed he’d walked into a coffee shop, and the young Dragonkin girl behind the counter quirked an eyebrow at his obvious scatterbrain. 

“I uh... chai, please. Almond milk. Big.”

“Sounds like you could use a shot of coffee in that, too...”

“Sure, hit me.”

The dragon smirked, and Gerald found himself furnished with a veritable bucket of dirty-chai. Shit, how much did that cost? He grumbled quietly as he stepped back out of the cafe onto the narrow, cobbled street. Cog & Cup, read a faded sign hanging beside the door. 

This whole situation was sticking in Gerald’s mind like a stone in his hoof. Was he going out of his way to justify something that would amount to abusing Kristian? The better part of him knew that any sexual relations between an adult and a fawn would never be acceptable, not in the eyes of any modern society. But Bruno was incredibly open with the twins, wasn’t he? Pursing his lips, Gerald began to walk again.

Heading east from the Cog & Cup, Gerald emerged into The Harrows only moments later. The large, roughly hexagonal plaza was a nexus point for half a dozen pedestrian-only streets, and was surrounded by buildings that varied in age from a few centuries to almost a millennium. It simply oozed character and history, and was full of specialised retailers. Fruiterers, bakers, butchers - Gerald’s eye passed quickly over such shops - ice cream and confectionary shops, cafes and bars. Gerald made his rounds, filling his shopping bags with groceries, and made his way slowly back to the coast. He enjoyed coming to The Harrows. The crowds and the marketplace atmosphere reminded him of his childhood, a simpler time before... before Bruno started abusing you?

Gerald’s heart turned to an icicle, and he nearly dropped what was left of his chai. Why did his brain do that? 

Chuckling and making a joke with someone who’d noticed him stagger, Gerald gathered himself and continued walking. No, Bruno hadn’t abused him. Gerald had walked in on his older brother masturbating one night, and at first Bruno had been horrified. But it had piqued Gerald’s curiosity, and he’d snuck into Bruno’s bed every night for a week afterward, hoping to see it again. It had taken months, but Bruno had eventually opened up to his younger brother, and the pair had shared an uncharacteristically intimate relationship for a number of years, just the way Dieter and Kristian did at that moment. Or would, if Dieter could be convinced that he didn’t need to force himself to be exclusive with Jack. 

Gerald adjusted himself surreptitiously as he walked, aware that he’d given himself a semi thinking about the feeling of Bruno’s hand guiding his, the warm firmness of his shaft and the quiet, urgent grunting he made when he was close... Glancing down, Gerald muttered a curse. Through his tight-fitting jeans even he could clearly see the outline of his cock. He hurried on. Thinking of Bruno as asexual was difficult, given how voracious he and his brother had been as kids. But the more Gerald thought about it, the more Bruno’s words that morning made sense - the older stag had never tried to actually have sex with him, he’d almost never instigated any of their mutual jerk-off sessions, and had always seemed to enjoy the closeness of his brother more than anything else. Masturbating together had seemed little more than a simple biological urge, to Bruno at least.

The point was, Gerald supposed, that what anyone else would look at and immediately call abuse, was as far as he was concerned entirely instigated by himself. He’d been the one to approach Bruno over and over again, asking hushed questions and wanting to know ever more about the machinations of his pre-pubescent body. Bruno hadn’t abused Gerald, he’d done only what Gerald had asked of him. 

After all his mental hurdles and what felt like playing Twister with himself to justify his thoughts against his memories, Gerald couldn’t deny that the thought of jerking off with Kristian, or more, fired his lust and made his cock swell with anticipation. 

Gently, Gerald. Gently. 

***

Back home, Gerald put on some music and began unloading groceries into the pantry and refrigerator. Bright sunshine streamed into the house through the glass rear wall, and Gerald opened the bifold doors wide, and then moved around the house opening windows to get the warm sea breeze through the whole place. The last room he entered was the twins’ bedroom, and he grinned at the mess he found. 

Picking his way through the minefield of towels, underwear, toys and books, Gerald leaned over the stout wooden desk below the window to lift the blinds and open the window. Immediately, the pungent smell of adolescent buck began to ease, and Gerald made his way back through the mess, picking up a few obviously used items of clothing on the way and dropping them into the washing hamper in the hall.

A quick shower, and then lunch before some housework, Gerald decided. 

Expecting still to have the house to himself, Gerald emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, damp, scruffy and naked, scrubbing at his face with his towel.

“Hi, Uncle Gerry.”

Gerald bleated in shock, his left hoof slipping on the wooden floor and sending the buck crashing to the ground on his ass. 

Kristian started to laugh, and then coughed, and groaned. The fawn sounded dreadful. He stood from the mezzanine couch and trotted over to Gerald, holding out his hand. 

“Where the heck did you come from? Why aren’t you at school?” The naked stag finally managed, hurriedly covering his groin with his towel as he stood. 

“I started to feel really sick, and the nurse told me to go home. She said she didn’t want me to infect everyone,” the fawn replied, stuffily. 

“Ew. Well I sure as heck don’t want it.”

Kristian sniffed wetly, and shrugged.

Gerald sighed. 

“Alright. Let me get dressed, and we’ll uh... I don’t know, actually. Get you some medicine, perhaps? What’re your symptoms?”

“Just a headache.”

“Oh, is that all?”

“I was meant to have double math and computer tech this afternoon, I made it sound much worse than it is so I could come home.”

Indeed, a few more heavy snorts and a thick swallow later, which made Gerald’s stomach turn, Kristian sounded far better. 

“You better not get in trouble for this, Kris. Uh... do you mind? All my clothes are out here,” Gerald said, pointing to the old chest of drawers that Bruno had moved out of his bedroom to house Gerald’s meagre personal belongings.

Kristian’s ears flushed pink. “I don’t mind,” he replied.

Memories of the previous night flooded Gerald’s consciousness. Kristian standing in the hallway, desperately tugging himself to the sight of Gerald doing the same. The scent of Kristian’s wet dream filling his nostrils from the pair of used briefs laid over his face. Gerald felt blood rushing to his groin, and hurriedly moved past the young fawn to the dresser, letting his towel drop and quickly pulling on a pair of boxer briefs and then his jeans. 

Kristian was staring. Gerald met his gaze as he turned back to the fawn, and gently propelled him down to the kitchen with a hand on his back. 

Two aspirin and a mug of tea later, and the two stags returned to the mezzanine lounge. Kris was genuinely sick, although mildly so, and Gerald didn’t want him doing anything that might worsen his symptoms. He sent a text to Bruno to let him know what was happening, and then sat down beside Kristian, bundling up his duvet and putting it on the floor alongside the sofa.

“Maybe you should put your pyjamas on, Kris? It’ll be more comfortable, and if you get sleepy later you won’t have to change,” Gerry suggested. 

“Good idea. You should too. Those look tight,” Kris observed, pointing to Gerald’s jeans. 

The kid was right, and Gerald relented. As Kris trotted off to his bedroom, Gerald quickly shoved his jeans off again and replaced them with a pair of elastic waisted cotton pants, although he remained shirtless. It was a warm day, after all.

Kristian smiled happily upon seeing that Gerald had changed, and bounced onto the sofa happily in an old t-shirt and his rocketship pyjama bottoms, immediately wriggling over to press up against Gerald, cuddling into him. Gerald was a little unsure at first of what to do, but soon relaxed, resting his arm around the fawn and gently caressing his shoulder with the other.

“Did you need to do anything today?” Kris mumbled into Gerald’s shower-fresh chest.

“Not really. I’ve already been shopping.”

“Good.”

“Why?”

“This is nice. Don’t want you to go.”

A wave of affection ran through Gerald, and he squeezed the fawn tightly in his arms, and planted a kiss between his ears, which drew a soft bleat of protest from Kristian.

The gentle crash of waves on the beach, the call of seagulls and the distant, muffled sounds of the town were incredibly relaxing, and Gerald suddenly realised it had actually been a long time since he just... stopped, listened, and did nothing for a while. Against his side, Kristian squirmed, turning and stretching his legs out in front of him with a yawn. Something seemed to be on the fawn’s mind, the way he kept shifting and restlessly moving. 

“Y’alright, kid?” Gerald murmured after a while. 

Kris nodded, hesitantly. 

“Sure? It’s okay, you can tell me.”

The fawn took a deep breath, held it a moment. “This morning... you said you’d... uh... enjoy my company for... things?”

Gerald’s heart went ba-THUMP.

“Yes, I did. And you said the same back.”

“Uhm...”

“Do you want to?” Gerald asked, forcing his voice to stay calm.

Kristian blushed brightly, squirming against Gerald’s side and nodding. There was a small, but not quite obvious tent in his pyjama bottoms, and a rapidly growing, matching tent in Gerald’s.

“My tip keeps sticking to my undies,” Kris mumbled, squirming in his seat and palming at the little tent in his pyjamas. “Feels all tickly when I move it...”

“Well that’s a sure sign you should take them off, isn’t it?” Gerald suggested. Damn, did he just say that aloud?

The fawn nodded, and raised his butt off the sofa, thumbs hooking into the hips of his pyjama bottoms. They came off first, all the way, to be kicked aside. Kristian’s tighty-whities were sharply tented with the fawn’s youthful erection, and a couple of little wet spots told of where his tip had stuck and been moved.

Gerald gazed down into Kristian’s lap, an ear swivelling forward curiously, and pushed down his cotton pants as well. His grey boxer briefs were seamless and very comfortable, with the added condition that they clung to him and left little to the imagination. Kristian stared unashamedly at the older male’s straining underwear, and swallowed thickly, palming at himself excitedly.

“Together, ready? 3...2...1...” Gerald prompted. 

The two bucks exposed themselves, pushing their underwear to mid-thigh, and leaning back to look at each other.

“Huh, you guys ended up gettin’ cut too,” Gerald observed. “When did that happen? I certainly didn’t do that, did I?”

“Nah. We were like... eight, I think?” Kris said, pushing his small, very stiff penis outward with a thumb to its base.

“Skin too tight?”

“Something like that. Dad told us about it and how he had his operation and let us choose. But like... getting stiffies hurt like hell before, so this is better.”

“Wow. Really tight, then. I was done at birth, pre-emptively I think. Bruno was done when he was quite a bit older, so I think your grandpa got me done as a fawn to prevent the headache later - literally, heh.”

Gerald chuckled, his fingers idly brushing the speckled fur of Kristian’s shoulder as the fawn nestled into his side, both males silently contemplating each other’s endowment in the bright, daylit privacy of the mezzanine lounge. 

“Is your head sensitive?” Gerald asked, after a minute. 

Kris nodded, looking up at Gerald’s face. “Mmhm.”

“Where’s the most sensitive bits?”

Kris thought for a moment, looking back down at his stubbornly stiff penis. “Uh... here...” he pointed to his frenulum, “and around the line, and um... the edge of the head. But it’s all kinda sensitive, I can make it cum jus’ by rubbing the head into my tummy.”

“Can you cum without any lotion or anything?”

“Yeah, dad bought us some lotion a while ago, but I don’t need it. Feels nice, but it’s icky to clean up.”

“Yeah, I agree. Lotion can be noisy too, if you’re vigorous,” Gerald smirked. 

Kristian giggled, and nodded. 

“Yours is really big,” the fawn observed, staring at Gerald’s solid seven inches, and the heavy, plump balls beneath it. He surrounded himself with a hand, almost completely engulfing his penis - which was not much bigger than Gerald’s thumb - in his fist.

Gerald let out a huff, and did the same, pulling back on his shaft skin and grinding up into his grip, his glans becoming swollen and smooth, a thick droplet of precum appearing at its tip and rolling ponderously down over his fingers. “Aww, it’s not that big. Does your size worry you?” 

The fawn shrugged, and gave his penis a few quick, excitable tugs. 

“Size isn’t everything, Kris, and I think yours looks really hot.”

“It... it does?” 
“Mmhm. I like how it points right at your face when you let go of it, and how smooth the head is, and how neat the operation was. Look at mine, it’s all wonky!” Gerald chuckled, moving his penis around to show Kris. His scar was indeed quite asymmetrical, and Kris seemed to gain a little more confidence from Gerald’s compliments. 

The fawn jutted his hips up a little, staring into Gerald’s groin as he pressed his glans into his belly fur with two fingers, rubbing his frenulum firmly. 

Gerald was measured and deliberate with his strokes, showing off to the fawn as much as he was getting off to watching him. His hand moved with rhythmic, firm strokes, a slight twist every now and then coaxing precum to flow from his tip. He never touched his glans, except to swipe up precum and wipe it off on his thigh. “I prefer it dry,” he explained, when Kris asked him why. “Using the precum makes it sticky, I don’t make enough of it to use it like lotion!”

Kris giggled, and at that, the fawn suddenly bounced to his hooves, and darted off into his bedroom. He returned moments later with an almost-empty pump bottle of lotion, and offered it to Gerald.   “Here, let me,” the fawn said, squeezing a few generous pumps into Gerald’s hand. 

“Th...that’s enough, thanks Kris,” Gerry replied, smearing the slick white lotion all over his shaft.

Focusing much more on his glans now, Gerald’s technique changed, a firm, rhythmic twist around his head eliciting a sigh of pleasure from the older stag, and an occasional shudder. His eyes remained focused on Kristian, though, and the fawn was all too happy to oblige, gripping himself with two fingers and a thumb and tugging his shaft skin up against the back edge of his glans in rapid, staccato rhythm. 

“Mm, good... you really like showing off, huh?”

“Mmhm... ffffuck... I’m g-g-gonna...”

“Shit, already?”

Kris bleated, his thighs shaking and his strokes getting even less rhythmic. He grunted as he orgasmed, a little squirt of watery, clear fluid spritzing up onto his tummy, followed by a slightly opaque drool over his thumb. 

Gerald almost went into meltdown. His strokes increased in intensity, the lotion coating his cock squelching slickly as he quickly worked himself to climax over the sight of the fawn getting off right beside him. He groaned, long and low, his head falling back against the backrest of the sofa when he finally came. He was vaguely aware of Kristian giving a shocked bleat, his was too carried away to notice as he covered himself in thick, gooey streaks of white. 

When he finally came through his orgasm, Kris was kneeling beside him on the sofa, still erect, his mouth open in amazement. “Whoa,” the fawn said, emphatically. “You cum so much! I’ve never seen anyone do that much!”

Gerald sighed happily, and ruffled the fawn’s headfur. “Well... uh... that was a little above-average, I’ll admit. I’ve... been looking forward to doing it with you.”

“Really? Me too! W-we should do it again!”

Gerald laughed. “You go for it, kiddo - I need half an hour to recharge, but I’m happy to watch. Here, do you want some lotion? I’ve got plenty to spare...”

Gerald held up his right hand, still sticky and slick with all the lotion Kris had given him. Kris perked his ears, and nodded, kneeling up and jutting his hips forward, his stiff, slightly reddened little penis pointing right at Gerald’s face. The older stag swallowed heavily, and reached over with his right hand. Resting his left on Kristian’s butt, he surrounded the fawn’s penis with his lotiony palm, forming a loose fist that completely engulfed it. Kris was very hard, still, and Gerald felt his own arousal surging once again at how eager the fawn was - how stiff he felt, and how small and tight and warm he was. His skin had very little movement, which surprised Gerald. He twisted and squeezed and softly milked Kristian’s cock, the lotion making soft, slick noises as he massaged the little shaft. Kristian groaned quietly, leaning against Gerald’s side heavily and pushing his hips eagerly into his biological father’s grip. 

When Gerald let go, Kris gave a bleat of protest, grabbing his wrist and pushing his dick right back into Gerald’s hand. “D-don’t stop... Please. F-feels really nice...”

Gerald raised an eyebrow and looked up into Kristian’s face, but obliged, allowing Kris to set the pace with his hips, and only varying the tightness of his fist. He could feel the fawn’s penis twitching occasionally, and his own was shamelessly hard over it. 

“I’m glad... I never expected this to happen... it’s really hot,” Gerald murmured, carefully lowering his muzzle to press his snout into Kristian’s chest, exhaling hotly through his downy fur over a nipple. Kris grabbed onto Gerald’s antlers, and thrust his hips roughly into his fist in response. 

Minutes passed, with Gerald massaging the fawn’s penis and buttocks, and teasing his nipples with his fuzzy lips, until with a squeaky, high-pitched little bleat, Kristian convulsed, all but collapsing against Gerald as his penis gave a flurry of rapid, fluttery little throbs. 

“Mmh. Good lad. Heh, I think that one was dry,” Gerald murmured, after a moment of silence. He tenderly milked his finger and thumb along Kristian’s penis, and looked down. The tiniest drop of clear fluid clung to his tip, barely discernable among the remnants of the second-hand lotion. Kristian couldn’t find the words to reply, and his muzzle and ears were burning with a blush beneath his fur. 

“You okay?” Gerald asked, wiping his hand on his thigh and ruffling Kristian’s hair with his left hand. 

Kris sank down into the sofa again. “Are you gonna get in trouble?” He asked in a very small voice.

“This is where I’m meant to say something truly creepy like ‘only if we get caught - this is our little secret,’ isn’t it?” Gerald said, lightheartedly. “I could get in big trouble, yes. I’m your father, technically. This shouldn’t happen, but it did, and we both enjoyed it.”

A short silence followed.

“Does that mean we can’t do it again?”

“Of course we can,” Gerald grinned, “Just don’t mention it to anyone, yeah?”

Wow, smooth, he jibed at himself.

***

“Bruno?” Gerald began, lingering in his older brother’s bedroom doorway later that evening.

“You okay, Gerry?”

“Sort of. Yes, I’m fine, but something’s ahh... come to my attention, that I think you should hear.”

“Alright...”

“Downstairs?”

“Can I put some pants on?”

Gerald smirked. “If you must.”

With the twins in bed, Gerald wanted his conversation with Bruno to be out of their earshot - Dieter certainly didn’t need to hear that whatever was coming had come from anywhere except Bruno.

“What’s on your mind, Gerry? You’re more awkward than an erection on a diving board.”

Gerald snorted. “It’s about the boys. It’s... a sensitive topic.”

“Alright.”

Bruno’s demeanour didn’t change even the tiniest bit. That was reassuring, at least. 

“Ahh... Okay, I’ll just come out with it. Since Dieter and Jack started considering themselves a couple, Kristian’s been very much excluded from any kind of intimacy with his brother, which is something he relies on to... ahem.”

Bruno’s eyebrows did raise at that. “I was... not expecting that to be the topic. I hadn’t realised that either, or that they confided in you. I noticed Kris was a bit more touchy than usual lately, and Dieter’s been withdrawn, but I figured that was the puberty freight train starting to rumble down the tracks.”

Gerry shook his head. “No, it’s definitely not that... I mean ahh... perhaps,” he said. “But ahh... Kris told me the other day that Dieter thinks that being in a relationship with Jack means he and Kris can’t play together any more. It’s causing friction between the boys. Frankly I’m surprised you haven’t noticed.”

“I see. And you think this situation may need some guidance?” Bruno said, raising an eyebrow as Gerald all but physically squirmed under his gaze.

“I do.”

“Alright. I’ll talk to Dieter next chance I get. And in the meantime... Gerry?”

“Yeah?”

“Try not to do anything more than jerking off with Kris, hmm?”

Gerald’s heart skipped several beats, enough that Bruno was forced to step in and catch him as he slumped against the kitchen counter. “Okay, okay, breathe. Just breathe. It’s alright.”

“How in the hell did you know? It only happened once, and only today.”

“You think I don’t know the scent of my own kids? I could suddenly smell Kristian really strongly in the hallway and on the mezzanine, not just in his bedroom. And you’re an incredibly bad liar. Two and two, Gerry. It’s alright, I’m not angry. I presume Kris instigated it, he’s tried the same with me. I just have to trust that you have some self-control.”

***

The next morning, Bruno pulled Kristian aside as the twins were leaving for school, and asked him to come to the workshop that afternoon, instead of coming straight home. Kris seemed momentarily afraid, and Bruno had reassured him he wasn’t in any trouble for anything at all, which seemed to relax him at least a little. 

Kris obliged, and rode his bike alongside Dieter as far as the treehouse. Dieter seemed uncomfortable, and when they arrived at the edge of the woodland, Jack was already there waiting. The mule looked up and saw both twins coming, and gave Kristian a self-conscious wave, which the fawn returned with a grin. “Have fun, you two...” he teased, before turning to cycle into the Artisan District towards Bruno’s shop.

When he arrived, Bruno was out the front of the workshop waiting, whittling an offcut piece of timber with a viciously sharp blade. 

“Hey dad!”

“Hey Kris. How was your day?” Bruno began, standing and hugging the fawn tightly until he squirmed and pulled away.

“Good, I guess. 	Is this about Uncle Gerry? Is he in trouble for something?”

Bruno hummed. Kris could obviously tell that he knew. The old buck’s concern flared briefly, and he ushered Kristian to the bench he’d been sitting on, perching on it himself with enough room to spare. “No, it’s not about Gerry, although it’s because of him I need to talk to you. And to Dieter, too.”

“Oh...”

Bruno sighed. “Kristian, this has been worrying me for a while, so I’ll cut right to the chase. You seem to need someone with you to be able to masturbate, am I right? Like, you really struggle to get off on your own.”

Kris struggled with the suddenness of that for a moment, thought about it, and nodded. “Mm. I just can’t um... cum, I don’t know why, it just... won’t happen. Me an’ Dieter used to do it all the time and it was fine, but then he and Jack started dating and he said he didn’t wanna do it any more.”

“And now you’re at a loose end, and sharing a room with your brother is suddenly awkward.”

Kris nodded again.

“Well... Dieter seems very secretive about Jack, almost like he thinks no one knows. That could be because he’s embarrassed about it for some reason. Which he shouldn’t be, not at all.”

“What do you mean? You’re right though, they’re both at the treehouse right now, and any time I’m there with Dieter and Jack arrives, Dieter makes me leave.”

“Kris, there’s no reason why you and Deets can’t still do stuff together, with or without Jack. You’re young, and I get the feeling from Dieter that he’s forcing himself to only do things with Jack, and it’s not sitting well with him. Maybe all he needs is to hear someone explain to him that it doesn’t have to be like that.”

Kris frowned in concentration. “So like... you think me an’ Dieter an’ Jack should do stuff together? All three of us?”

“If all three of you are okay with it, there’s no reason why not. And I’m worried that you not having that outlet might lead to you getting into some... compromising situations, whether with Gerry or not.”

Kristian shrunk down beside Bruno, and looked up at his father with flattened ears. “You... you know?”

“Aye, I may be old but I’ve got a good nose,” Bruno chuckled, throwing what he hoped was a reassuring arm around his son. “Don’t worry. I miss how open and frank we all used to be together before Gerry came along, there’s really no reason for us to all be secretive and scared of each other finding stuff out. As long as no one’s getting hurt, no one’s forcing anyone to do anything and it’s all fun and healthy, I don’t have any problem with it. I’ve spoken to Gerry already about boundaries. But I do think you should be doing stuff with Dieter and Jack, or other kids your age, not with your uncle.”

“I understand,” Kris mumbled.

“Hey.”

“Mm?”

“I love you, alright?” Bruno gently cupped Kristian’s chin, tilting the fawn’s head up to meet his gaze. “It’s far better that all this is out in the open, and not happening in secret behind closed doors. All I want is for everyone to be happy and healthy. Being secretive isn’t healthy, and as you’ve found out it leads to some situations that have to be secret. And that’s never good, even if it feels like fun at the time.”

“Ugh, but Dieter won’t want to hear from me that he should let me join in with him and Jack.”

Bruno chuckled, and ruffled Kris’ hair. “Don’t worry. I’ll have a quiet chat with him at some stage. All in good time. Come on, let’s get some hot chocolate on the way home.”

***

Knowing that Bruno knew, Gerald and Kristian became at least a little more open about their taboo relationship in the following days. Gerald was careful not to take it any further than mutual masturbation, and as always the vast majority of his attention was on Kristian, with the older buck brushing off the fawn’s offers of reciprocity. With Dieter and Jack at the treehouse and Bruno at work, Kris came straight home from school each afternoon for the rest of that week, to where he and Gerald could have a solid two hours to themselves before anyone else got home. They masturbated, came together, showered together, cuddled on the sofa, and a couple of nights even slept together, when Jack managed to convince his mother to allow him to sleep over at the Hirschkoff house. That night, Dieter and Jack shared the twins’ bed, obviously, and Bruno opted to take the sofa for himself, allowing Kris and Gerald to sleep in his bed. 

A lot of orgasms happened in the Hirschkoff house on those nights. A lot of sheets and towels needed washing the following day. And for most of that time, barely a thread of clothing was worn. 

It seemed to Bruno that even without overtly talking to Dieter, the simple act of calling out the secrecy pervading his family had helped immeasurably. Even Jack - the painfully shy, cowering colt - seemed to have more confidence in their house than any other time Bruno had ever met him. He had laughed aloud the first time he’d seen Jack strutting boldly - by his standard, anyway - around the mezzanine in only his fur. 

“H-hey, don’t l-laugh! D-d-d-dieter dared me!” The mule had protested to Bruno, while Dieter leant in their bedroom door, just as naked as his boyfriend.

It was a Friday night, and Jack and Bruno had worked together to convince Annabelle to let her son stay with them for the weekend, or as much of it as he was comfortable with. 

Around bedtime, while Gerald and Kristian were sharing a shower - to ‘conserve water,’ they said - Bruno tapped lightly on the twins’ bedroom door, and opened it slowly. Jack and Dieter were on the bed together reading a comic, and Dieter looked over at his father. 

“What’s up, dad?”

“Lads, can I have a quick chat about something?”

Jack whimpered. 

“It’s nothing bad, don’t worry.”

Without waiting for a reply, Bruno shut the door behind him, and moved to sit on the edge of the twins’ bed beside Jack, who shuffled across slightly and laid the comic book over his bare groin.

“Don’t worry Jackie, I’ve seen enough of it these last two nights that hiding it’s a bit of a moot point,” he observed drily. “Look, it’s about Kris. And about you two as well. I’m sure you’ve noticed, Dieter, that Kris has been pretty cranky lately. Do you know why that is?”

Dieter shrugged. “I dunno. I miss him though. We used to have so much in common and lately he’s just been... I dunno. Annoying?”

“Since you two started dating, yes?”

Dieter nodded, and Jack looked nervously back and forth between father and son.

“He feels left out,” Bruno said, simply. “Kris tells me he can’t do stuff on his own, if you know what I mean. I know that’s not strictly healthy and in time, he needs to learn to please himself, but right now he’s at a loose end because he misses playing with you so much. Both of you, Jack, I know you and Kris have experimented a bit, before you and Deets were a thing.”

The two boys exchanged a glance, as yet unable to tell where this was going.

“I guess my point is, that a relationship like yours, or any relationship, doesn’t necessarily have to be exclusive.”

“Exclusive?” Dieter asked.

“That means that you two only do stuff with each other. No one else.”

“But isn’t that what you do when you’re dating someone? If you play around with anyone else, isn’t that bad?” The fawn asked.

“Only if you do it in secret, without the other person’s permission, or if one of you is uncomfortable with it happening. Do you see where I’m taking this? If both of you are comfortable with Kristian being involved in your relationship sexually in some measure, there’s no rule that says you can’t do that.”

Jack looked over at Dieter, who was processing this information. He’d never thought of it that way before. The sound of running water in the bathroom stopped at that point, and the squeal of the shower door opening and closing followed.

“You boys are young, relationships at your age shouldn’t be complicated or difficult. Do what feels good, do what feels right, and always talk with each other about it. And you know you can always ask me anything, still, right? Not just about the mechanics of your bodies either, I’m always here to offer a fresh set of eyes on emotional and romantic stuff too, okay?”

“Sure. Thanks, Dad,” Dieter murmured, with a smile. 

Bruno stood, and left the boys alone.

Gerry, Bruno and Kris were sitting on the mezzanine lounge together a short while later, Bruno between them, and the only one of the three wearing a thread of clothing. It was the sort of casual nudity Bruno had always loved, comfortable and easy. So when Jack came tottering out of the bedroom - still naked - Bruno couldn’t help but smile at the mule’s confidence. 

“Hey K-kris?”

“Yeah Jackie?”

“Um... D-d-d-do you wanna c-c-come and read c-comics with us?”

Kristian’s ears perked up so sharply it was like Christmas, and the fawn leapt to his hooves and threw himself into Jack’s arms, hugging the mule tight and almost bowling him over. Bruno’s heart almost exploded with happiness, and he slung an arm around Gerald’s shoulders, the two older brothers watching as the youngsters disappeared back into the bedroom, chatting away as if they’d not seen each other in a month. 

Which, Bruno supposed, was exactly the case, on some level.

***

“You know, without you, that would never have been possible,” Bruno murmured to his younger brother once they were alone. 

“Aw shucks, stop it, you’re gonna make me blush,” Gerald replied acidly, pinching Bruno’s thigh and eliciting a grunt from the older buck. 

“Only speaking the truth. I wouldn’t have picked up on the nuances of their emotional baggage without you getting so close to Kris as you did. Speaking of, did you have fun?”

Gerald huffed. “Yes. God I feel like such a creep, though. I just let it happen, I wanted it so bad and I just did it, you know?”

“How far did you go?”

“Not far. Although I daresay that there isn’t a single straight buck in this whole damn house. Kris just wants to stare at my dick while he jerks off, mostly, although he gets off way quicker if I’m doing it too. Shoulda seen his face the first time he saw me cum,” Gerald chuckled, slowly finding his way into telling his brother some stuff that, were Bruno anyone else, would probably see him dead.

“That all sounds eminently familiar, Gerry.”

“It does, doesn’t it? I... wait, are you hard?”

“So are you.”

“Shit.”

A moment of silence followed, with Bruno and Gerald, brothers, sizing each other up in a way they’d not done since Gerald had been Kristian’s age.

“Fuck it. Wanna crank one out together?” Bruno asked, finally. 

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Bruno shucked his sweatpants down his legs and kicked them off, in exactly the same way Kris had done only a few days prior, sitting in the same spot. 

Father and son, Gerald’s brain went. My brother and my... nephew. In the same week.

Bruno’s grizzled, middle-aged body was anything but smooth, not compared to Kris at least, but where Gerald felt a sort of protectiveness over Kris, to Bruno, all he wanted to do was drop to his knees and service him like a good boy. Bruno’s cock was throbbing at attention, jutting from a forest of dark fur. 

“No.”

Bruno’s command was simple, but it was enough, and it wasn’t until then that Gerald realised he actually had been halfway onto his knees, ready to swallow his brother’s cock. 

“Sorry, but no. Keep it simple. Let’s just jerk off together.”

“Sure, anything. Sorry,” Gerald muttered, climbing back onto the sofa and leaning over the arm to where Kristian’s lotion was still stashed.

Bruno let out a chuckle as he recognised the bottle. 

“Shit, that was almost full this time last week,” he quipped. “You two have really given it a nudge.”

“All me, Bruno. Kris doesn’t usually use it.”

“Really? I seem to remember you not liking it much when you were a fawn, either. Too slippery?”

“Too noisy, more like. What about you?”

“I can get off dry, but it’s much better with lotion. Here,” Bruno held out his hand, and Gerald obliged with a generous pump of the...

“Schlick’s Original Dick Lo...fucken hell Bruno. You made this label didn’t you?” Gerald suddenly said, reading the bottle for the first time. 

Bruno burst out laughing, and smeared the lotion wetly along his shaft, making it glisten and flex. “Hey, it was easier to do that than explain to the boys directly what it was for!”

Gerald grunted, watching his brother’s calloused, thick-fingered hand as it twisted and pumped along his shaft, and joined in moments later with a handful of lotion of his own. With Bruno using his left, and Gerry his right, the two stags were leaning against each other in the dim light, the only sounds for the next few minutes a chorus of happy grunts and heavy breathing, accompanied by the unmistakeable sounds of Schlick’s Original Dick Lotion. 

Bruno edged first. 

The older buck grunted and let go of himself abruptly, rolling his hips as his cock flexed and pulsed, a thick ooze of cum spilling and sliding down his shaft. 

“Nnnh, fuck...” Gerald murmured, watching closely and milking his fist against the back of his glans in response, his leg trembling as he only just barely avoided his own climax, a watery squirt of precum streaking his thigh. “Hey Bruno? If you’re... okay with it?”

“Huh?”

“Cum on me?”

Bruno exhaled softly. “But you just showered.”

“I know. I want to smell like you.”

“Perv.”

“Do it. Go on. All over me. Make me your cum rag.”

“I hope you didn’t speak to my son that way.”

“Fucking... of course I didn’t, the kid can barely cum!”

The two stags lapsed back into grunting, horny silence for a few moments longer, until Bruno suddenly surged to his hooves and knelt across his brother’s lap, milking his rigid cock only inches from Gerald’s chest. 

“You cum on me, I’ll throw your scrawny ass in the sea,” Bruno growled, feeling Gerald’s hand pumping his cock dangerously close to his butt. 

Gerald couldn’t respond, even if he wanted to. He was lost in his lust, watching his older brother milk his drooling cock, edging himself ever closer to orgasm. With his free hand, Gerald gripped Bruno’s butt, kneading the firm globe of muscle to prevent his brother from pulling away. His mouth was open, and Bruno’s aim was true. His first spurt, thick and gooey, splattered across Gerald’s lips and nose and over his tongue. The second streaked his chest, and the third, and the fourth, and then Bruno moved downward, mashing the head of his cock against Gerald’s, coating the younger buck’s glans with the remnants of his climax. 

That was more than enough to set Gerry off, and he groaned gutturally as his whole body shook, hips bucking roughly upward against Bruno’s cock as he launched a few half-assed shots of cum onto his own belly. 

The two stags remained in position for some time, coming down from a mutual orgasm that was unlike anything they’d experienced in their adult lives. 

***

Kristian launched himself onto the bed excitedly as Jack closed the door behind them, and Dieter bleated in protest as he was bounced by his twin’s arrival. 

Jack sat down a little more delicately, and slid himself onto the bed alongside Kristian, shuffling across to press against him. That elicited a look of surprise from Kris, which Jack responded to by poking his tongue out. 

“Kris, I'm sorry,” Dieter said, suddenly. 

“For what?”

“For shutting you out. I thought… dating someone meant you weren't allowed to do anything with anyone else, like ever!”

Kris paused a moment. “So dad talked to you too?”

“Yeah, to both of us. Jack an' me have been talking too, and um… we miss you.”

“Ahh shit. I don’t wanna break up your thing though,” Kris mumbled, squirming around and glancing over at Jack. The mule, predictably enough, was hard a a rock from the physical contact, but for the first time Kris had known, he didn’t seem the slightest bit freaked out by it. 

“You won't,” Jack said. “We b-b-both want you to d-do stuff with us, don’t we Deets?”

“Yup. And not just dick stuff either.”

“We d-d-d-do that a lot though...”

By that stage, Kristian had an erection as well. “That suits me just fine, I got some catching up to do!”

“But Kris, seriously, I want us to be the way we used to be,” Dieter persisted, grabbing Kristian’s arm to drag his attention away from Jack’s penis. 

“Me too Deets! You guys are my best friends, it’s gonna be great to get to hang out with you again.”

Dieter turned onto his side and hugged his twin brother, and Jack, after a moment’s hesitation, did the same from behind as Kris turned his back to the mule. Kristian bleated, eyes going wide as he felt the firm warmth of Jack’s erection pressed to his butt. 

“Great, now I’m getting hard again, too,” Dieter muttered, almost a complaint, as his penis twitched steadily to erection, bumping and sliding against his twin’s. 

“Th-that’s n-n-never a bad thing,” Jack stuttered, the mule flexing against Kristian’s butt, and boldly pressing a hand down between the twin brothers to awkwardly fumble and grope the two identical stiffies he found. “We’re like, never g-g-g-gonna ever be soft, are we?”

Kris grinned at Dieter, and arched his back to push his butt back against Jack, and had the pleasure of hearing the mule gasp in shock, and feel his equine cock flare against the base of his tail. 

“Ugh, so are you guys gonna masturbate already or do I have to do it myself?” Kris bleated with a laugh. Rolling onto his back between Dieter and Jack, he glanced back and forth between the two of them, and pressed two fingers firmly against his frenulum, rubbing his glans into his belly fur. 

“I dunno if I can cum again,” Dieter protested, giving his own a few half-hearted tugs and wincing at its painful sensitivity. 

“I c-c-can!”

“That’s a given, Jack! You cum more often than anyone else in the world, I swear,” Dieter rolled his eyes. “I’ve already cum four times today, but Jackie’s up to...what, eight?”

“N-n-nine...” the mule corrected. He wrapped his hand around his small equine penis, tugging firmly downward on his shaft to tighten the skin, and flexed, making his broad mushroom glans flare and drip precum onto his belly. 

“Shit... does anything come out any more?” Kris asked, his breathing picking up a little as he tugged and stroked himself, eyes glued to the mule’s flare. 

“S-sorta!” Jack squeaked, rolling his hips and pumping his medial ring, just once. “It g-g-goes bounce-bounce like always, b-b-but it doesn’t squirt, it just d-d-drips a bit. Look, I’ll show you!”

Jack adjusted his hand slightly, so that he could grip and tug his medial ring up and down his shaft. He shut his eyes, briefly, and then opened them again to watch Kristian. It only took the mule half a minute or so to cum, and when he did, he grit his teeth to hold in a bray of pleasure as his penis throbbed visibly half a dozen times, just a single watery droplet working its way free and dribbling onto his belly. 

“NNngh. T-t-ten!” He announced, grinning over at Dieter. 

“That’s...wow...” Kris breathed, the fawn eagerly tugging at his own cock at the sight. 

At that moment all three boys’ attention was drawn by urgent whispering, raised voices outside, on the mezzanine, and Kris stopped to listen. 

“...all over me. Make me your cum rag.”

“I hope you didn’t speak to my son that way.”

“Fucking... of course I didn’t, the kid can barely cum!”

“What are they talking about...?” Dieter whispered. 

Kristian had almost turned inside out between them, such was his embarrassment. Dieter blinked a few times as thoughts processed inside his mind. 

“Did you... jerk off with Uncle Gerry?!” He suddenly demanded. 

“...yes,” Kris mumbled. 

“Really?”

“Yes. Don’t look at me like that Deets! I... I had a stiffy all the time and I couldn’t do it with you and... um... I caught Uncle Gerry doing it and couldn’t hold it in and he caught me... and then we um... we talked about it and...ended up...”

Dieter snorted with laughter, and Jack hushed him hurriedly. All three boys could hear grunting, it sure seemed like Bruno and Gerald weren’t discussing the weather!

“C’mon, I gotta see this,” Dieter grinned, clambering over Jack and Kris to sneak out into the hallway.

***

“That was...” Gerry began, breathlessly.

“I...” Bruno couldn’t find words.

“That was super hot,” said Kristian.   Bruno and Gerry’s eyes flared open, and both stags’ heads whipped around towards the hallway, their antlers clacking together loudly to the sudden realisation they’d had an audience.

Kristian, Dieter and Jack all stood in the hallway. All three of them were hard, and as Bruno and Gerry watched, Jack slapped his flared equine penis meatily against his belly, sending a little spritz of precum onto the floor. Kris was calmly, casually stroking himself, and Dieter stood with his arms folded, his cock bobbing gently with his heartbeat.

“How... how long...” Bruno groaned. 

“Long enough, Dad,” Dieter replied, grinning. 

“Well... now none of us have any secrets left, do we?” Gerald muttered.

“Oh this was never a secret,” Kris replied, airily. “You just thought it was.”

“No point in having secrets,” Dieter added. 

All four stags turned to Jack as the colt took a breath to speak.

“W-we’re all g-g-guys, after all!”