Rupert made his way back towards the truck once he had finished and washed up. For a moment he admired the orange sun drifting low in the skies. 

Then he spotted Kyle back at the pickup. Kyle wasn’t alone. Two shorter furs were standing in front of Kyle, the younger boomer’s back to his father. As he approached, Rupert could identify the species. Two raccoons. They looked like siblings, one grade school aged, the other fourteen at oldest. 

Rupert puffed out his nostrils as he approached, heading straight toward the driver’s side door. 

“You good to get back on the road, bud?” Rupert asked as he passed. 

Kyle was sitting up on his tail, his feet free of the ground. His son quickly rocked forward and stood on his feet again, nodding. Inner ears were reddened, avoiding looking to his father. 

“Thanks mister! That was SO COOL!” the younger of the raccoons squeaked, smiling ear to ear. 

“Yeah, thanks dude. Sorry, he just… wouldn’t stop pestering me.” The older raccoon apologized, her tone half-curious. While she wouldn’t admit it, Rupert and Kyle were equally sure she had wanted to see too. 

“No problem! It is pretty cool right?” Kyle smiled down to the younger raccoon, then headed for the passenger side of the truck. He could hear the younger raccoon still talking excitedly to his sister. It was a little hard to hear exactly what, but he was certain ‘super tail’ was among it. 

When Kyle slid back into the seat, tucking his tail into its rest, he could feel his chest tightening. He pulled his seatbelt across and buckled it, then reached for the door. 

“Don’t forget your water.” 

Kyle flinched at Rupert’s voice. He was frozen for a moment. Then he quickly unbuckled and hopped back out of the truck, going to the side of the bed. A simple bungee release, open the cooler, grab, close, bungee-reattach, and he entered the cab with a cold bottle of water. 

Kyle buckled back in while Rupert turned the key. The truck backed out of their spot and started driving back towards the freeway. 

Rupert finally spoke up as they started to accelerate on the onramp. 

“I know you don’t need me to tell you how to act, but… Be careful alright?” Rupert was quiet, trying to be clear he wasn’t angry. It was hard to keep his tone, for fear of his son’s wellbeing. 

“Dad… It was just quick, and my legs were down. No one would have thought I was going to kick them.” He sighed, popping open the top of the water bottle. He took a sip and closed it, thumb toying at the cap after. 

“Besides… it’s not as bad as it used to be. It’s better to show that large boomers are nice and cool right?” Kyle mused. But his eyes were still on the water bottle cap, picking at it with his thumb’s claw tip. 

Rupert was silent for a little, getting up to speed and merging into the traffic. He sighed and rest his elbow on the door, cheek on his fist. His right arm steering as he glanced over to Kyle. 

“… I just worry about you. You could have gone to a more marsupial-friendly college.” Rupert lamented, cutting Kyle off as he tried to respond. “But I know that’s not what you wanted, and I’m proud of you for the choice you made. But a dad’s going to worry, yeah?” Rupert’s voice was elevated, over the wind whipping into the truck from both their windows. 

Kyle responded with a quiet ‘mmh’. He knew the world wasn’t the way it was when his father was growing up. But he also knew his dad still had a reason to be cautious these days. 

“Besides,” Rupert continued after a pause, sitting up from the window. He swapped arms, steering with his left, the right going to rest on and squeeze Kyle’s thigh. “You’re my only kid. What would I have if something happened to you?” 

He turned his head to smile at Kyle. Kyle reluctantly turned to meet his dad’s gaze. Those big, chocolate brown eyes so familiar. The eyes of his childhood protector. 

Kyle smiled, then turned back to the road. “You’d still have work. And the gym.”

Rupert snorted and rolled his eyes, returning to his position leaning against the window frame. 

“I’d never coach, watch boxing, or hell, pull on a pair of gloves again if I knew it’d make you safe. Boxing is just my career. You’re my joey.” Rupert’s eyes were on the road, but Kyle could see the honest smile on his muzzle. 

Kyle felt his chest swell for a moment. His heart speeding up again. Rupert had been a very affectionate father, always telling a young Kyle how much he was loved. But it had been a while, with the divorce and separation. Hearing his father be so honest and affectionate was edging in on overwhelming. 

Kyle quickly lifted his phone and resumed thumbing at the screen, aimlessly pushing between different apps and pages while his mind wandered. 

“Ru DiProto” Rupert responded when the hotel receptionist asked for his name. The equine- Kyle couldn’t identify beyond that- flipped through her registration book. A literal book. No computer in sight. 

“Roo? Your name is Roo?” she asked dubiously.

“Short for Rupert.” The older boomer responded with his best smile. It didn’t seem to comfort the equine as she looked up to him, then back down to the book. 

“Ah… Yes. Here you are.” She snorted her mane up out of her face, then started writing on the book.

“I am remiss to inform you we don’t have the room you requested.” She spoke while writing, “We were host to some… fraternity group last night, and a couple rooms are … not prepared for occupation. So there is not a double full-bed room available.” 

She looked back up, again snorting her mane out of her face. This time, she looked to Kyle. “Unfortunately, that leaves two options. A single queen bed, or double single beds.” She paused, looking from the tall kangaroo, to the even taller. “… I think one option. I am not sure the single beds would be… sufficient?”

Rupert snorted a laugh and nodded, “Half of us each would be on the floor.” He lifted an arm, dropping it over Kyle’s shoulders. The younger roo was pulled up against the older, tail pressing to the ground to keep balance. “The boy won’t die from sleeping next to his old man. Single queen is fine.” 

The receptionist’s deadpan expression remained unchanged. She nodded, then started writing in the book once again. 

“The manager will not be in until the morning, but in cases like these he is often rather generous. I can’t promise anything, but it’s likely he will offer a partial refund in the morning, if you can stay around until he’s here.” She looked up with the fakest, most customer service smile Kyle had ever seen. “Additionally, we offer a complimentary breakfast around move-in time for the dorms. That will be set up at six, and open ‘til ten, right over there.” She gestured to the opposite end of the reception area. 

“Wonderful! Thank you Kendra.” Rupert nodded, his arm leaving his son’s shoulders. The receptionist looked concerned and confused, not accounting for her name tag. As Ruperte took the keys- physical keys, not a key card- Kyle smiled, tapping his chest to the corresponding spot where the receptionist’s name tag was. She looked down, then rolled her eyes.

Kyle was nearly sure they had entered some sort of wormhole sending them back in time. Besides the lack of computer, the physical keys, the receptionist who seemed three decades out of place… there was even a long, spiraled, and tangled phone cord connecting the headset of a phone to its base. Something he hadn’t seen since he was a young joey.

Kyle took a moment to respond, offering little more than a quiet “Thanks!” before turning and following his father. Kyle was a bit stunned. After Rupert grabbed him, Kyle had spent a good minute pressed close. Near Rupert’s armpit. It was a big dose of boomer brand, and Kyle hadn’t exactly disliked it.

Kyle’s nares still felt the tingle from his father’s spicy scent. The long, hot ride hadn’t helped- or had helped, for a weirdo like Kyle. Kyle just hoped the receptionist hadn’t noticed. He had tried to keep up a poker face while he breathed it in, over, and over… and now he was hoping the strain in his shorts wouldn’t be noticed by his father. 

Luckily, Rupert sent Kyle to the room with the key. Rupert was going to pull the truck in close, so they could keep an eye through the hotel room’s window. Kyle was pushing his way into the room just as the truck approached. 

Inside the room was as dated as the reception area had been. Ugly wallpaper, paisley and floral patterns that belonged in a museum, and a genuine tube television. When his eyes landed on the bed, Kyle grunted in disapproval. ‘Queen’ was generous. He was half sure it was a full size bed and they had been lied to. 

“I hate to get you right back in the truck, but…” Rupert rumbled as he pushed into the hotel room, putting both their suitcases inside; Rupert’s small, Kyle’s the largest possible. 

Kyle chuffed as he watched. He had struggled, just a little, with his own suitcase. His dad had moved it around effortlessly. One-handed.

“I’m starved. You want to go get food? Or you want to relax and I can bring food back?” Rupert rumbled, stretching upward. He couldn’t even go in full stretch, his head already near the ceiling when only on half his footpaw. 

“… Yeah I’ll go.” Kyle chuffed, looking around the room. “Not much to do here, can’t even stretch right… Bet that telly is black and white too.” 

Rupert had a gruff chuckle, “I wouldn’t be surprised. But it was cheap. Let’s go see what’s around.” 

Kyle followed his father out of the hotel. After he pulled the door closed, he couldn’t help but finally get a good stretch in. Going up onto his toes and the balls of his feet, tail out and back, arms stretching up and out. His muscles gave that warm burn of moving after so long stuck in the same position. 

He groaned, falling back down onto his heels, the tread of his sneakers giving a distinct ‘thump’. Only then did Kyle notice the housecat a few doors down. They were exiting their room with their ice bucket. They had frozen, now staring, an expression of shock at how enormous Kyle suddenly was when at his full extent. 

“… Sorry!” Kyle offered, hurrying into the truck. Even as they pulled out, the cat’s eyes tracked them, all the way to the exit of the parking lot. Rupert had seen what happened, and was laughing heartily. “At least it wasn’t me, they might have crapped their pants.” Kyle joined in, imagining how much more frightened the cat would have been.

The best they could find was a few chain fast food places. They settled into one, glad to see the dining area was open. Off the road, Kyle could finally down soda and not have to worry about an early pit stop disturbing his father. Of course, Kyle knew Rupert wouldn’t mind, but Rupert wasn’t intimidating to just other species. 

“Don’t think I’ve had this since… I last went with you.” Rupert noted, eyeing the burger he’d taken a bit from. 

“You don’t do fast food much?” Kyle asked, already three bites into his chana masala burger. He was happy his favorite chain was open; one that didn’t skimp on the flavor or spice for their herbivore options. 

“Not really.” Rupert mused, taking another bite. After he swallowed, he got a big smile, recollecting, “I remember… When you were little, you loved this place. Their little joey bag meals with those awful toys you’d break the same day.” 

Kyle chuckled around his food, swallowing quickly to respond. “Yup. And you and mom would only do it on rare, special occasions… then we’d do it more often on my visits.” A big smile spread across his muzzle, recollecting those special trips.

Rupert nodded, equally enjoying the memories of the good times as Kyle grew up.

“Well, when I did take you Nicole would always give me an earful when we got back.” Rupert said, setting his burger down. He absently thumbed over his muzzle, at his whiskers and the area where fur mostly obscured his scars. 

“Yeah, that sucked. Man, mom and Paul are so anal about what we eat. There was never good food in that house.” Kyle grumbled. Kyle was no stranger to the freshman fifteen. He was trimming it down now, and almost back to his original weight, but the freedom to control his diet once he was in college was one of the most treasured aspects. 

“And you were a little brat about it sometimes too, you know.” Rupert teased with a grin. “When I wouldn’t take you for fast food, you got so upset. Even when I’d cook your favorites. What a kick to the balls. I spent the week prepping and making your favorite lasagna, with the special garlic bread… and you threw a tantrum.”

Kyle’s forehead was in his hand, staring down at the table, before Rupert had gotten halfway into the story. It was a memory that came back and haunted Kyle frequently.

“I am so, so sorry. Man I was a little shit.” Kyle mumbled. Many of the memories between the divorce, and college, were bitter sweet at best.

Rupert waved his paw dismissively, chuckling, “You were acting out from the split. Don’t worry about it. I couldn’t be happier or prouder of how you turned out.” Rupert was half muffled as he cleaned his muzzle with a napkin. The older boomer had already finished his burger, and was nearing polishing off his fries. He pointed a fry at Kyle, “And I just wish we had been better for you. That’s my only regret.” Before he chomped the fry down. 

Kyle’s ears were red again. He chomped down half the remaining burger, keeping his muzzle too full to talk. They ate in silence for a couple minutes, Kyle finishing up his meal. He started pushing around ketchup with his last fry. He was berating himself for every second of silence. How he should speak up. 

He bit his tongue between his flat teeth, internally berating himself. Just say it! 

He couldn’t look up. But he managed to muster the courage to say, “Don’t regret anything. You did great. I wouldn’t have turned out to be the coolest roo on campus otherwise, right?” 

Rupert looked surprised. He smiled and nodded, “Exactly.”

They made it back to the hotel without a hassle. Kyle felt so much better after having finally saying it, he hardly paid attention to the trip. 

“I’m pretty beat after that drive. You mind if I go right to bed? The earlier we get you moved in, the earlier I’ll get home.” Rupert absently asked, pulling out his toiletries kit. His suitcase was far smaller than Kyle’s, just a night bag to change the next day and head home. Kyle had the harder task of rummaging through a huge suitcase, full of the clothes he’d need for a full school year. 

“Sounds good to me. I’m pretty tired, and I don’t want you getting in an accident or anything. Besides, I think my friends and I are doing lunch tomorrow.” Kyle chuffed, only then realizing that his bathroom kit was in his backpack. He pulled it out, looking up to see his dad brushing his teeth, head peeked out of the bathroom. 

“Nicole got into the accidents, not me. Four before the divorce… sheesh.” He rolled his eyes, ducking back into the bathroom after. “At least only one totaled the car. And she wasn’t at fault. Supposedly.”

 Kyle couldn’t help a grin. And two more minor accidents, between the divorce and him heading to college, Kyle silently added. Maybe with a touch too much satisfaction at his mother’s expense. 

Kyle was about to join his father, but the bathroom door shut and locked. Kyle flopped down on the bed instead, checking his phone once more. Not a spot of WiFi to be detected, but he had a signal at least. A couple text messages had come in, all from friends who had made it to campus that day. Complaints about their new rooms, excitement for lunch the next day, excitement at being free from family once more. A couple questions about how his trip was going with his dad, and remorse he would have to stay the night in the hotel room. 

Taking into account the last couple hours, Kyle had to say how it wasn’t bad. Not too awkward, and nice to catch up with his dad. 

Disbelief and accusations that Kyle was dead and his dad was texting for him flew. Kyle snorted, setting his phone up to charge as he heard the bathroom door open. 

“Thought you were going to shower?” Kyle asked, not having heard one run. 

“Nah, tomorrow. I’m hittin’ the wall. I was up real early for some work before I picked you up.” Rupert rumbled, sitting on the bed, opposite the side Kyle had been. 

“Gotchya. I’m still more of a morning shower boomer anyway.” Kyle mumbled, watching as his dad started to loosen his boots. 

“Ya always were. And always making us late, with how long you’d be in there.” Rupert chuffed teasingly, glancing back at Kyle. Kyle’s eyes snapped from his father’s enormous, socked foot to meet his eyes. 

“Hey, I wanted my fur to look good! I’m not nearly as bad as I used to be.” Kyle protested, slipping into the bathroom after. His ears were red when he looked in the mirror, thinking back to how he’d often masturbate in the shower. Sometimes a couple times. Far higher priority than whatever he and his father were going to go do, at that age. 

Kyle got to brushing his teeth, then checking his face fur and ears. He wasn’t lying about wanting his fur looking good. He’d always been a bit obsessed with making sure his fur was all properly brushed and that he didn’t have any mussed patches or cow licks. In a large part thanks to Rupert; his father had taken him for a fur trimming three times a year since he was young. Ironic… Was it really irony? Rupert mused for a moment, brushing at his ears. Whatever it was, it seemed silly to be so obsessed with silky, properly laying fur when he was so hungry for the sweat and smell of … of another dude.

Kyle was still brushing himself as he heard Rupert speaking. He leaned toward the door, but realized it wasn’t for him. His dad was talking on the phone. He went back to brushing, taking his shirt off, brushing his torso, then his legs. A good brush before bed always meant it was easier to brush in the morning. 

Kyle exited the bathroom, turning off the light. He found his father still on the phone, now dressed only in socks and a pair of mostly white, sweaty, briefs. Rupert chattered something Kyle couldn’t understand. His father never raised Kyle to be bilingual- he’d be better off not knowing, Rupert said- but he could certainly recognize when Rupert was cussing. 

“Fine. I’ll talk to him. I’m going now, I need sleep.” Rupert lowered his phone and hung up while whoever was on the end was responding.

Kyle didn’t even try to understand. He was a bit busy savoring the visual feast before him. At the ‘click’, he turned and headed to his backpack. He replaced his toiletries kit, then undressed himself. 

“Fun work stuff, huh?” Kyle asked, his back to his father as he pushed his shorts down and off. That left him in his boxer briefs and socks, matching his father. He folded the shorts, and his shirt he took off in the bathroom, and pushed them into his backpack, far from his clean clothes. 

“Always. Uzela isn’t going to make weight, so they wanted Charlie to step in so they didn’t have to cancel the match. But he’d have to cut too much and he’s not ready. I said I’d ask Charlie, but…” Rupert trailed off, plugging his phone in. 

“But Charlie would say yes and get his ass kicked?” Kyle offered, double checking everything, then peeking out the curtains at the truck. They had secured everything, and not much out there was really worth stealing. But it didn’t hurt to look. 

“He’d get his tail ripped off and turned inside out. Uzela is a monster and borderline fighting dirty. And Charlie’s got a big fight in a couple months.” Rupert chuffed, pushing the comforter down the bed until it hung off the foot. He lifted the sheet, flopped into the bed, and pulled the sheet back down over him. 

“The kid’s just too greedy.” Rupert grumbled. 

“Good thing he has a cool coach who knows better?” Kyle offered. He stood by the side of the bed awkwardly. His father’s heels hung off the end of the bed, and he was definitely taking up at least half the bed. Steeling his nerves, Kyle lifted the sheet. As he slipped into the bed, he was hit by another strong waft of his dad’s scent. Luckily, Rupert turned off the light, hiding anything other than titanic kangaroo feet that might be tenting the sheet. 

“Yeah. He couldn’t do better.” Rupert boasted, smiling to himself. “I’ll wake you up after I nab breakfast tomorrow. You’re drinking coffee these days right?” 

Kyle could feel his father speaking. Their sides and arms were against one another, and Kyle still had his other arm hanging off the side of the bed. And Rupert’s deep voice resonated through the bed itself. 

“Yup. Lots of cream and sugar.” 

Rupert laughed, the bed moving with it. “Candy that looks like coffee, and some breakfast. Can do.” 

Kyle knew he would. All of Kyle’s life, his father had the uncanny ability to wake up exactly when needed, without an alarm. Which was nice. Kyle wouldn’t have the jarring scream of his phone wake him tomorrow. One last reprieve before college would have him on a strict early-morning schedule. 

Kyle lay there. Eyes closed, trying to sleep. His mind racing and tripping over itself, tumbling through so many messed up thoughts. That he could smell his dad, so strongly. That his dad felt so hot against his arm. About that little peek he stole earlier, how hung his father was, what he’d wished he could do. 

Rupert had immediately gone to breathing slow, deep, a faint snore every few breaths. The older kangaroo was like a light. Flip a switch and he was off. Another uncanny ability Kyle was jealous of. 

Kyle lifted his arm, squished uncomfortably against his father. He rested it back down, atop Rupert’s. The bulkier arm flexed, Rupert’s hand closing a little, before going still once more. 

Kyle took a slow, deep breath. Dry grass, cooled and dried sweat, and the spice of a mature boomer. He let the breath out slowly, rolling his head to the side, one eye peeking at the clock. 

He had been there an hour. Just laying back, eyes closed, unable to sleep. Despite all his exhaustion, despite all the work he’d be doing moving into a dorm in the morning. But his heart was thumping harder than it should be. His throat felt tight. Because of what was so close. What he was so capable of doing. That the heavy nuts, damp sheath, and slick shaft he had peeked at earlier were easily within reach. 

Kyle’s shaft had been uncomfortably pressed to his boxer briefs for nearly the entire hour. He could feel that he’d soaked them through. Another ‘blessing’, that he was a real leaker when he got horny. 

Kyle stretched his legs, flexing and pointing his feet. Both his arms stretched, fists clenching tight, his shaft flexing and pushing against the confinement of his underwear. As he relaxed back, he sighed softly. 

Not a response from Rupert, who was snoring steadily away. Even when Kyle’s hand rested back down atop Rupert’s. After a few minutes of listening to steady snoring, Kyle peeked at the clock again. 

An hour and fifteen minutes. Of racing mind, a stiff cock, and the omnipresence of his father. The heat, the smell, the feel… he couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

Kyle’s throat tightened, his heart beating faster. He suddenly felt so cold all over. He lifted his hand, just to test. It slid under the sheet, then gently rest back down on Rupert’s stomach. The touch was slow, gently, gradually adding weight, until his hand rest entirely on Rupert’s stomach. 

Not the slightest reaction. Steady, deep breathing. Uninterrupted snoring. Not the slightest movement of arm, leg or tail. 

Kyle’s hand roamed up and down a little, just a few inches. Feeling his father’s fat-softened gut, plush, but hiding powerful muscles.

Still no response. 

Rupert’s fur was coarser than Kyle’s. Age was probably a contributor, but Kyle guessed it was more to do with his fur care routine. Along with keeping his fur so properly brushed, kyle tended to have a couple extra steps of conditioning and coat softener. Such things were getting more common, but Kyle was sure his dad wasn’t part of that ‘metro’ culture. 

Kyle’s hand lifted, until it was only gently brushing against the fur. Then it migrated downward. Slowly, finger tips moving closer and closer to his goal. The belly fur gave away to fur that was thicker. Rupert’s happy trail. 

Kyle’s throat felt choked as he peeked an eye open. Fingertips drifted lower, lower, through that damp trail of fur. Rupert still snored, his eyes closed. Kyle closed his eye again, swallowing as his fingers brushed against the elastic hem of Rupert’s briefs. 

Despite the heat of his father, the warm room, the sheet over them, Kyle’s hands felt so cold. All of him. A chill that was running along his skin, immune to the warmth of his fur. His heart thudded so hard in his chest he could feel and hear each pulse in his ears. 

His fingers edged past the elastic band, finding soft cotton beyond. Once he found purchase, Kyle proceeded slowly. At first, his fingertips. They traveled forward, so there was more room for his hand. Then his palm touched. 

He was holding it. All of what would fit. His father’s sac was pressed against his palm and wrists. His fingers wrapped over the edge, beyond the precipice of those orbs, resting against the wet cotton covering his father’s sheath. 

Kyle’s heart was pounding even harder. His cheeks were flushed, his shaft flexing. The heat was wonderful against his palm. The cotton still damp with sweat from the day. His two middle fingers rubbed against the thick stump of his father’s sheath, the opening having seeped fluids to make the cotton wetter, slick to the touch. With a slight pressure, he could feel the tip of his father’s shaft peeking free. His palm shifted toward himself, feeling how one of those boomer orbs filled the majority of it. 

“Mmh… Ya having some sorta dream over there Kyle?” Rupert’s robust voice hit like an explosion to Kyle’s ears.