Daze Of Our Lies

Written by MadDogAirPirate
Illustrated by Weaselgrease and Mikachutuhonen

To tell the truth, Weylen wasn't much into football. He didn't see the point of it. Running the risk of injury for a game, when it seemed so likely in football, was not him. Maybe it was because he was so small, not just for his species, but, well, for most species. In a game where size and muscle mattered, he just felt out of place. Even watching.

Coach Ichitro was in immediate contrast. While Weylen was watching tentatively from the bleachers, the bat stood on his feet, as close to getting on the field as he possibly could be without actually being there.

"That was intentional grounding! C'mon, ref! You have eyes, use 'em! He threw that to the ground like your mom's phone number!" Fists clenched, he resisted the urge to charge onto the field, but already, the acting coach had enough. Weasel wheeled around from the sidelines.

"Ichitro, what the hell are you doing? You wanna get thrown out? Again?"

"He's blind!" the bat countered to his assistant coach. "Why didn't you challenge the ruling?"

"You said you'd leave this to me," the mustelid reminded him mildly. "Why aren't you?"

"I am!" the bat pushed back. "The principal said I couldn't coach six days of the week. But I'm a spectator."

"Then spectate," Weasel snapped acidly. "We're up by thirteen points. Relax."

The bat's eyes widened as he realized what was going on. While Weasel was dealing with him, he watched the quarterback of the Charlotte High Varmints lob a quick pass right past the tackles and the line of scrimmage.

"Damn it! Someone stop him!" Ichitro was almost frothing. He really got into it when he was down on- or near- the field. But it didn't matter. The receiver had bolted up the field, out of everyone's reach. The spectators erupted in a mix of cheers and roars of outrage, more the latter. It was a home game, after all.

Weasel glanced back. "Well, we're up by seven points. Or maybe six."

"Maybe if you paid more atten-" Ichitro began.

"How can I do that with you distracting me?" It was clear enough that the bat was beginning to grate on Weasel. "Now sit down, damn it. You're supposed to be having fun with Weylen."

The bat glanced behind him at the diminuitive wolf, who now sensed he had two pairs of eyes on him. Weylen glanced down self-consciously.

"Sorry," he muttered, even though he wasn't facing Weasel. "Sometimes I forget what's going on."

Weasel gripped him on the shoulder, but then shoved him toward the bleachers before turning around to focus once again on the game. Ichitro, meanwhile, caught his balance again and took a seat next to the student.

"Least we're still up," the lean coach remarked in an attempt to smooth over a conversation that hadn't been happening with Weylen. A few seconds later, though, Charlotte had landed the extra point, and that did make Ichitro wince.

"Hey coach? How'd you know Mr. D would be calling?" It had been something more on the wolf's mind than the game itself.

"Because he's a pain in the ass with a conscience. ... I just kinda knew, kiddo." Ichitro leaned back on the bleacher behind him and braced himself with both of his arms. "He's got a good heart and a lotta baggage. Which he really needs to let go of."

"After he gets here, you wanna go get some dinner?" the teen suggested.

His question was met with a raised eyebrow. "And miss the rest of the game?" the gym coach asked, incredulous. He sprang from his seat instantly, eyes locked on the kickoff. Ace, the athletic pride of the extensive Weasel family, had received the ball and was sprinting up the field.

"Go! GO!" The bat cupped his hands to his muzzle to make his voice travel better as he took a few steps toward the field again.

Ichitro's eyes were so glued to the field he didn't even notice it as Darwyn had made his way over to the bleachers, grabbing the seat next to Weylen. Amidst the roar of the crowd, the dingo's greeting almost went unrecognized. The young wolf smiled. The roar had died down slightly as Ace was finally brought down on the ten yard line of Charlotte, just short of a touchdown.

As the excitement of the crowd continued, Ichitro stepped back a few times. "Well, fuck me senseless," he remarked, pleased, and sat down... on his occupied seat.

The bat was just as surprised as Darwyn was. But what was more, Ichitro knew who and what he'd sat on. "Good to know your equipment's working," he quipped slyly.

Darwyn had known he was sporting wood. He just hadn't expected to be sat upon so suddenly. With a slightly pained expression, the dingo snapped, "do you mind?"

The bat got up and grinned, turning around. "Hey. You're the one who took my seat. More ways than one," he added.

The science teacher felt his face flush, so much that he was sure it had to be showing through his tawny orange fur. "I did no such...- I'm sor...- how dare-"

As Darwyn stammered a response, Ichitro glanced over at Weylen. "I think I broke your science teacher."

"Just sit down!" Darwyn belted out, crossing one leg over the other to somehow mask that he was aroused.

Ichitro shrugged, but did so, placing am arm around Darwyn's shoulder, immediately making the dingo uncomfortable.

"I can help with that, you know." Ichitro remarked with a raised eyebrow.

It was actually Weylen who burst out laughing at that, a fact which caught both adults off guard.

"Anyway," the science teacher deflected quickly, "I wanted to thank you for inviting me today. For a while I wasn't sure where we stood, if everything was okay."

The small wolf smiled in response. "I know you meant well Mr. D. Everything was just weirding me out, overloading me for a bit. But the party was great. Helped me get my mind off stuff for a bit and realize... things weren't as bad as I was making 'em out to be."

Ichitro, by this point, had his eyes back on the field.

The dingo nodded. "You're a smart kid, Weylen. Sometimes I probably don't give you enough credit."

Weylen peered down at the bleachers, but he kept the smile. "I set up reservations for us at Chervil's. You, me, and Coach. Figured it might be a good thing to just...." He didn't complete the thought, but it registered well enough.

That bit of news did jar Darwyn, though. "Chervil's? The Italian place?" he asked.

Even Ichitro glanced over. "That's a swanky place. You sure?"

"I can't let you do that," Darwyn decided emphatically. "You don't have to pay me back. Sure as heck not by taking me to dinner at some place like that."

"Well," Weylen cut in, "it's going to happen."

Ichitro exchanged a glance with Darwyn, but after a moment he smiled. "Yeah, herbal tea's right, Weylen. Don't you know, adults are only allowed to buy something expensive for kids. It can never happen the other way." That clearly caught Darwyn flat-footed, and he glared at Ichitro. The bat continued anyway, "When are you gonna get it through your head? Weylen's sixteen. He can do stuff for himself. He's not a kid."

There was a pause, but then Weylen cut through it. "Yeah I am." No smile on his face now, he looked right at the bat.

Ichitro blinked, now caught off guard, himself. "What?" He furrowed his brow.

"I don't mean I'm some kind of infant," Weylen clarified. "But I'm just getting used to the idea that... that I can do this stuff! It's great. But it's kinda scary. ... I am a kid, coach. At least, I'm not all the way an adult, yet."

Darwyn placed a hand on Weylen's shoulder. "That's the thing. So, are you sure you want to spend a bunch of money on dinner?"

Weylen nodded. "Yeah. I want to talk with both of you guys. Sometimes I feel like you're fighting with each other because of me, and it makes me all uncomfortable." He twiddled his thumbs, watching them as he did so.

Darwyn squeezed the shoulder more tightly. "I have to say, I'm... surprised. Impressed. I'm not used to you speaking so directly or... taking charge, I guess. Where'd this come from?"

---------------------

It had begun early that morning.

"Dad?" Weylen poked his head into his father's bedroom. Jarvis had made it all the way to his bed, suggesting that it was likely an easier night for the firefighter. Even so, he was planted face down on the bed, one of his toned arms draped off the side. He collected his fingers into a ball before rolling over to face his son, who was clutching his backpack as he peered through the doorway.

"You didn't make me breakfast, did you?" Jarvis checked, yawning as he sat up to see what this was about.

"No sir," Weylen responded. "I kinda wanted to talk about curfew tonight since you're not gonna be here. You said midnight on weekends. That means Friday, right?"

The older wolf hadn't given it direct thought. "Yeah, means Friday. You already have plans?"

Weylen shrugged. "I had someone I was thinking I was gonna hang out with, yeah."

"That Alex kid? Or Ben?"

Weylen glanced off to the side. "Nah. ... Hey Dad? I know you said you wanted me to focus on my schoolwork and all, but I can... date and stuff, right?"

"Date?" Jarvis asked, a bit taken aback as he planted his feet on the floor, fixing to get up. He just had his underwear on, which was pretty standard for him.

"Kinda the way you do." Weylen put it out there, boldly, but instantly regretted it. Was he saying too much?

"You mean get together with someone, do some stuff? Weylen, I told you, it's not a good idea at your age. I want you to keep to your schoolwork." Jarvis stood up, stretching as he looked at his son. "I don't want you to get focused on that. If it doesn't go right, it can really throw you off. I want you to keep your head on straight. Somebody from school?"

Weylen wasn't sure if he wanted to talk about just who it was, so he nodded. "I think I can keep my head on straight. I won't let it get in the way of school or anything."

Jarvis considered it for a moment. "You're not planning on doing something tonight? That why you're asking about midnight curfew?"

"I don't know," Weylen replied honestly. "It'd just make me feel better if I got your approval."

"Not just like that!" Jarvis remarked, a little too snappishly. He realized it almost immediately by the wince on Weylen's face. "You don't just... get together on the fly and do stuff."

"You do," Weylen pointed out.

Torn between the impertinence and the truth of Weylen's statement, Jarvis took a deep breath. "I'm a little wiser and more experienced. You know the way you need to practice and all with someone, learn to drive, before you're allowed to just get out on the road?"

The teen nodded.

"You need to ease into it. There's no rush for this stuff, I'm telling you. Otherwise, you're gonna be a wreck." Jarvis yawned again, likely wishing he wasn't having this conversation so early in the morning.

"Well, that's kinda what I'm asking about. Practice. How do I... get something like that?" Weylen questioned. "If I'm not supposed to date?"

Jarvis sighed. "You're right. Still, especially for you. You need to get to know the person, trust them. You have anyone like that?"

"I- I think so," the adolescent lupine managed.

"The important thing," Jarvis went on, "is to make sure you define what you're looking for, and you don't try to do things you're just not ready for. Sometimes it's hard to know. Because you want to do them. But if thinking about them makes you more scared than anything else, it's probably too much. And you can't let anyone push you into doing anything."

That had immediately jarred thoughts of Riley in the locker room. Weylen clutched his backpack a little tighter.

That didn't escape Jarvis's notice, either. "Hold on a minute," the wolf remarked, his tone deepening. "You don't mean to tell me you've already done something?"

"There's this guy who wants me to do stuff," Weylen blurted out, more in an attempt to avoid directly answering something he did not want to talk about with his father yet.

"Guy, huh?" Jarvis remarked pointedly. "Can't say I'm totally surprised. But all the more, you can't let 'em push you to doing what you're not ready for."

"It's... kinda hard for me, Dad. I wanna be nice, and I want him to like me." Weylen knew by now he was outright masking some of the information. He was talking about more than one person, here, but a lot of the same stuff applied.

"You're already on the wrong track," Jarvis interjected gruffly. "You're thinking someone's not gonna like you if you don't do exactly what they want." Jarvis approached Weylen, placing his arm on the farther side of the doorway to prop himself up while he talked to his son. "You can't be a slave to something like that. It doesn't matter what you do. You're gonna have people that like you and people that don't like you. But the minute you submit to doing whatever the hell they want out of fear they won't like you, you don't have your free will anymore. You have to set up who you are and what you want. If you don't do that, people are gonna tell you who you are and what you want. And it's not you anymore. ... You get me?"

Hearing this stuff was always a little difficult to just take as if it was the same thing, given that Jarvis was just looming before him in the doorway. His father was so much bigger than him, and Weylen wasn't sure he was going to be doing much more growing. So even as he was nearing adulthood, he just felt like his father didn't really get what it was like, being of small stature. "I don't wanna do exactly what they want," Weylen clarified. "I kinda want to do some stuff too."

"If you decide to do stuff," the older, larger wolf stated, "you be in control. And no fucking. Uh, penetration, I mean." The wolf explained, "that's advanced stuff and you're a beginner. A lot of stuff can go wrong there if you just jump in without a thought. That's not permission to do other stuff," Jarvis immediately corrected. "I just... know how it is. I've met this guy by now, right?"

He wasn't quite sure how to answer it, but in any case, his father had met all of the folks in question. "Yeah, Dad."

"Makes me feel a little better. Just no fucking. You've got to really, really trust someone for that. That day sure as hell isn't today."

Weylen nodded. "I just don't wanna be seen as not being nice."

"Let me tell you something Weylen. Setting up boundaries, being clear about what you want, what you will or won't do... that doesn't mean you're not nice. And don't let anyone ever tell you different. If you want people to respect you, you have to."

--------------------

"I talked with my Dad," Weylen explained to Darwyn's question. "He kinda advised me that if I was going to do anything with anyone, I had to let people know where I stood."

Darwyn nodded somberly, somehow wondering if he was going to come across bad news today. He said nothing for the moment, however.

"At any rate, if we don't get going, we're gonna be late." The young wolf looked off at Ichitro, whose focus was back on the game. "Is it okay if we go?"

"Go?" Ichitro remarked without taking his eyes off the field. "There's a whole other half to play. We can eat in an hour, can't we?"

Weasel had been trying to keep out of the conversation, but that comment brought him right back into it. His tail had started to bristle, and he reeled to face Ichitro before slamming his clipboard down into the grass with a muted thud. It was still enough to make the bat jump.

"You are supposed to be here to show Weylen a good time. You're going to that restaurant. Now."

The coach knew from Weasel's tone suggested that he was in trouble, but even so, he protested. "Hey, you're the one who said you didn't want me going off with him earlier."

"That was earlier," the mustelid seethed. "Darwyn's here now and I trust he'd keep you from doing anything that would cause me to wring your neck."

The crowd had erupted to life, mixed mostly with angry boos and catcalls. Weasel turned around just in time to see what they were seeing. Charlotte had intercepted a second time, but fortunately he'd been brought down halfway up the field.

"Maybe you should keep your eye on the-" Ichitro started in a mocking taunt, but his assistant coach was in no mood.

"Go. Now."

-------------------------

It was only a ten minute drive from the school to Chervil's. Even though Weylen rode with Ichitro, most of it was spent in silence. The bat seemed fine with it, either way.

The parking lot and very landscape of the restaurant immediately spelled out just what kind of place it was. Carved stone fountains shot water in symmetrical perfection just out front. A luxurious garden was fenced in along its sides, boasting the fresh herbs and vegetables that were sometimes used inside. Cast iron tables lined the forefront of Chervil's, though they remained empty at the moment. The neon marquee sign lit up the restaurant's name in green and red-hued cursive that overlapped just next to each other.

As much as Ichitro was a believer that people should be able to do whatever the hell they wanted, within reason, even he questioned the wisdom of a high school kid dropping whatever this place would cost on a dinner. The two of them climbed out of Ichitro's truck just as Darwyn pulled into the adjacent space.

"You ever been here?" Ichitro called over to the dingo as the science teacher got out of his car.

"Once," he admitted. "Weylen, are you sure you don't want to just grab some pizza somewhere else?"

Weylen nodded. He was the first one in as the two teachers followed behind him. A greeter pulled the door open, though the fox did raise his eyebrow as the three passed. Behind the desk was a tuxedo-clad rat, his white fur an immediate contrast to his attire. Possessing an amused smile, he leaned over the counter and peered down at the shorter Weylen. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"We have a reservation. Wolf." His tone was very matter-of-fact. Everything about this situation was making Darwyn uncomfortable, though Ichitro was bearing it with a bit more humor.

"I see. First name?"

"Weylen."

Seeing the match on his reservation, along with the correct number of dining guests, the rat nodded. "Party of three. Very amusing having your, uh... child do this for you," the rat commented in Darwyn's direction.

"Regrettably he's not our child," Darwyn corrected. "And I believe he made these reservations himself."

The rat stiffened, trying to figure this out. "I took reservations all day today. I assure you, if a child had placed them, I would have remembered. Is this some kind of gag?" The frown on his face suggested he was not amused.

"My father placed them," Weylen explained. "But they're for us."

He nodded. "Very well. At least you're with adults. Right this way." His disdain was rather palpable as he led the three off toward their table. It was early enough that only a handful of diners were present. Even so, the rat led the three of them off to the side, away from the others. "Your waiter will be with you shortly."

"He's so stuffy I'm amazed he can breathe through that upturned nose," Ichitro muttered with his own contempt. "Where does he get off treating Weylen like that?"

"Well, it's probably not a common occurrence, or even one at all, that someone as young as he makes a reservation," Darwyn suggested, as he fixed to study the menu. It was hard for the teacher not to decry the expensive prices.

"So what? He's a paying customer."

"They don't know that. He hasn't paid yet," Darwyn retorted.

"It's okay." Weylen's voice was much milder than either of theirs. "It's not the first time someone's overlooked me or they didn't wanna give me due credit. Actually this works great. Gives us the privacy I wanted so I could talk with you guys about some stuff."

Whatever mild irritation the two had evaporated. Both pairs of eyes were on Weylen.

"I just wanted to kind of... let you both know that I think you're great teachers. So I don't want you to worry about me." Weylen glanced over at his science teacher. "I know Coach wanted to just give me a chance to, you know. Do stuff. And I liked doing it. I never felt like I was being forced or anything. But people get all weird about me and sex stuff because I'm just sixteen. So now I don't know what I should do." There it was. Out there for the both of them.

"Well," Darwyn began cautiously, "sex isn't the kind of thing you should be rushing into." Ichitro raised an eyebrow, but let the dingo speak. "But it's not... wrong."

"Feels wrong," Weylen murmured, going back to playing with his napkin. "First I thought the thing with Coach wasn't right. So I had a chance to do it with a guy my age, but I got in trouble for that. Then I tried doing it with the guy who was trying to rescue me from it all."

"Shit, Weylen," Ichitro expressed. "No wonder you're all mixed up. Sex really is one of those things that people have strong opinions over. When you should be doing it. When you shouldn't. You are never gonna make all those people out there happy, whether you do it or not."

"I wanna do it," Weylen sought to clarify. "Just I don't wanna be treated like a bad person if I do. Or have anyone else treated like a bad person if I do."

"That's partly why your sex life is your business," Ichitro assured. "But you just want it to be safe and not hurt someone. Sometimes, you're gonna have the best of intentions, but it still won't work out. People wanna have sex. Then they change their minds. Or people really wanna do it, but they regret it afterward. Or they love it and they just want more. Or they want it but they're too worried." Ichitro peered over at Darwyn, who immediately caught the look.

"What?" the dingo demanded in irritation.

"You're probably old enough for example that coming to the game with that raging hard-on wasn't just a spontaneous happening."

Darwyn felt embarrassed immediately. "I didn't mean anything by it, so get off my case."

"Point is," Ichitro added brusquely, "you can't fix other people's hangups usually, and someone's gonna have some." He peered right at Darwyn. "Why not just come out with it. You'd like to have sex with Weylen. You're just afraid to."

That caught both Weylen and Darwyn off guard. Weylen looked confused and peered at Darwyn to verify that. As for Darwyn, he knew he was put on the spot. He'd never addressed the issue head-on with the wolf, and now, no matter what answer he gave, it would shape everything.

"Teacher-student guidelines. Doesn't matter." Darwyn glanced about him, making doubly sure no one was overhearing this conversation.

Ichitro seized upon that and kept pushing. "And if those guidelines weren't there and Weylen wanted to?"

Darwyn just felt put on the spot. And why the hell was Ichitro pushing, on this? What gave him the right? "Even so," he seethed. "Probably not. He's young."

"Young's got shit to do with it. You think enough of yourself you wouldn't do him wrong."

"And that's exactly why I can't," the adult canine countered. "Even if I did have those intentions. His father wouldn't likely approve, and nor would anyone else if they found out. It'd have to be in secret. What kind of romantic life is that, in secret?" Darwyn scanned the room. "Where the hell is our waiter?" he asked in irritation. Anything to avoid further discussion.

There was no waiter, though, and Ichitro wasn't done. "You said the 'r' word. There's more than arousal going on."

Now Darwyn felt really trapped. Weylen seemed rather surprised too, keeping that same mixture of shock and curiosity plastered on his face. "... Yeah. And that would never fly. Understand, what I'm about to tell you should not leave this table. ... When I was Weylen's, age, I got a chance to get involved with my high school coach. Big wolf. Coach Packer. The sex was... I liked it, I suppose, but I felt used, afterward. Especially when I caught him banging another student."

"Wait a minute. Banging? So when you say sex-" Ichitro checked. Darwyn's somber nod said it all. "Well," the bat remarked, folding his arms. "That explains a hell of a lot. A therapist could have a field day with that."

"You're not a therapist," Darwyn denied flatly.

"I'm not a therapist by choice," Ichitro countered cryptically, before he explained. "I trained for being a psychiatrist before I changed to education. I could have finished, but for a lot of people the help wasn't coming at the right time."

Darwyn had a lot to say to that, but he caught a glimpse of an olive-skinned anole who looked to have on all of a tuxedo's outfit minus the overcoat. The lizard was carrying three menus. "Hello, I'm Lewis, and I will be your server this afternoon." He quickly offered one to each of the three.

"About time," Ichitro sounded flatly. "We've been waiting here over fifteen minutes, and this place isn't packed."

"I do apologize. Let me get you some bruschetta, complementary, while you look over the menus. I will be back in a few minutes."

Darwyn waited until the waiter had headed off before he picked up the conversation. The moment's break had given him a chance to reflect on Ichitro's charge. "Anyway, that's probably why I was so hard on you," he explained to Ichitro.

"I've got news for you," the bat snapped curtly. "I don't know what the hell happened to you back then, and if it wasn't pleasant, I'm sorry. But I really do think a lot of Weylen. I'm not banging him," he remarked, loudly enough that Darwyn glanced around to make sure no one had heard it, "and I'm not banging any other student."

"Indeed not," the dingo agreed. "Just his father."

Weylen looked downright uncomfortable. "I think I need to use the bathroom." He got up, but Ichitro caught his arm.

"If you really do, that's fine. But if it's because of this... we can just keep it simple here. Darwyn and I both like you. If you feel like either of us has used you or anything like that... we should know that." Ichitro raised an eyebrow in Weylen's direction.

Weylen shook his head. "I don't feel that. But could we not talk about... you and my dad?" the wolf asked hopefully.

Ichitro nodded, putting his arm back on the table. "I've got an idea. We're all friends here. What say we just enjoy dinner, huh?"

Darwyn sighed. "You're right." Apparently pressing this wouldn't be good for anyone at the moment.

Despite an uncomfortable air that lingered on for another few moments, soon the topic turned to high school sports, to science, and to Weylen's birthday party. Weylen really seemed to enjoy the change to levity, and the two adults picked up on it. A half hour later, the food had arrived, and the smells of marinara sauce and cheese wafted across the table as each tended to their entrees. It had begun to feel like a fun time.

"You couldn't possibly have been a quiet kid," Darwyn challenged. "You're the most outspoken guy I know."

"No, really," the coach assured. "I didn't want to say anything, ever, that might upset someone or get me into trouble. I was kinda... well, like you, Weylen."

The wolf perked up at that. "Really?"

"Really. I guess I got jaded when I went through college practicum. Like I said before, I was studying to become a therapist. But what I got for clients were people who wanted assurance they didn't have any problems, or to fix the problems of their kid. I can't count how many parents trotted a kid in, age nine, ten, who wasn't paying attention and always wanted to play outside. Like that was an actual problem! But no. They wanted medication to fix their children's behavior. It was easier than dealing with the child and putting the time into the relationship."

Darwyn followed along, but then he had to ask. "So the change?"

"Oh, that. One day, I had this woman. Her kid wasn't paying attention to the school lessons and was just drawing or passing notes or staring out the window. This kid was really smart. You could tell by talking. The mom insisted he had attention deficit disorder. But when I talked with him, he focused just fine. Mom insisted that I didn't know what I was talking about when he didn't support the diagnosis. Finally, the kid spoke up, and said, 'mom, it's cause I have a girlfriend now, and she's more interesting than history class'. Not only did the mom start laying into her son about how awful he was for putting his mother through all that worry instead of saying something, but she still insisted his mind must not be working right, and she wanted medication for it. Downright demanded it of me." Ichitro took a breath, finding himself a little irritated just reliving the story. "Never mind that I'm a practicum student, so I can't do it. Which I pointed out. But then she used that to insist I didn't know what I was talking about on attention deficit disorder. Demanded I point her to a 'real' therapist."

The two listened in rapt silence.

"So I didn't waste any words, and my polite demeanor had vanished. And I told the mother that she wasn't listening to her son, which was why he never told her anything. And when he did, it was like an invitation to be punished, because he wasn't acting like the perfect angel she'd expected. That raising children was meant to have challenges as kids grew, and that if she wasn't prepared to accept that she was going to screw up her kid. ... The kid, who was probably like thirteen, turns to his mom, and says, 'exactly, mom. Anything I tell you is a reason to chew me out. And you always assume that someone else has to step in and fix me.' Like I said, really bright kid. But mom got on my case about how I'd turned my son against her, she'd make a complaint, see to it I never got a license as a therapist. You know. The usual empty threats." Ichitro shrugged. "I realized, people needed to hear it, sometimes. Being nice, polite, hey, that's great. But if you're just not facing reality because it's inconvenient to you, it's only gonna hurt the people around you. And these parents, some of the clients I got... they just couldn't face that they needed to change their way of thinking. That their kid was healthy, relatively speaking, but that their parenting style threatened to upset that."

"Is that why you became a teacher?" Weylen queried, curious.

"Well, partly," the bat admitted. "I also like teaching kids. I find they're more receptive than some of their bullheaded parents. But, ultimately, I'm finding both. Parents willing to listen. Kids who are just as delusional as their parents."

"Uh, do either of you want dessert?" Weylen asked.

Ichitro opened his mouth, and from his wide-eyed look, Darwyn could tell what he was up to. "Don't even. He means food."

"Here's what I don't get,"Ichitro remarked, continuing without missing a beat even as he changed the subject. "You really like Weylen, right, scientryst?"

The odd wording threw Darwyn off even more than the question itself. "Sci- what?"

"Hear me out," Ichitro expounded. "You give Weylen a key, console him, buy him some gaming system. The kid decided he wanted to give you something in return. And from the fit of your pants at the game earlier, I can tell you, you've got an interest. Maybe even right now," he suggested, ducking his head under the table to peek.

Darwyn cupped his hand over his crotch reflexively, even though he didn't have an erection at the moment. "Hey!"

"So you got what you wanted. Why didn't you accept?" the bat questioned.

Weylen's eyes were on Darwyn, as clearly he wanted an answer to that question too.

Darwyn stared at his mostly empty plate. "I guess," he offered, "I was still worried I was gonna screw him up if I did. I remembered the look the coach got when he got together with me... and my blood was pumping, and I felt how badly I wanted it. I wanted to. But I wanted Weylen to not have any regrets more. I wasn't sure if it was the right time for it." He glanced over at the young student.

Weylen fiddled with his fork, twisting it around as he thought of what he wanted to say to that. "Mr. D?"

Darwyn eyed Weylen attentively.

"I really did want to, that day," the wolf explained. "I didn't want to... you know, make you my boyfriend or anything I guess. But you were really nice to me, and I thought we might enjoy it."

"I know, Weylen," the teacher responded with a touch of weariness, given all the time he'd thought about this matter himself. "But I don't want you to think sex is something you offer back whenever someone does something nice to you."

"I didn't feel obligated or anything," Weylen countered. He shrugged.

"If you ask me," the bat interjected. "You're getting way too hung up on the whole thing. You want to," he pointed out, gesturing at Weylen, "and you want to," he added, indicating Darwyn. "It doesn't have to be weird or mean anything more than you want it to."

Darwyn folded his arms. "That's how you work, bat. It's not how everyone does."

"Some people do stuff like that," Ichitro pushed. "They decide, they want the sex, and that's it. They go on with their lives. And they don't eat quarts of ice cream or write sad poems afterward." He got up from the table. "Now, I'm not sure how you feel on it all, Weylen. But you asked at one point if we ever could again, and my answer's still the same. You want to, some time, you come find me. We're not in a relationship or anything either. But if you're okay with it and you're not gonna fall apart if the next time we get together is the last time we get together, then."

"You're not leaving, are you?" Darwyn asked, since the coach had stood up.

"Me? No. I gotta take a leak," he explained. "Chat s'more til I get back."

Both pairs of eyes followed Ichitro as he started down the row of booths to take the hallway into the bathroom. The moment felt a little awkward, with neither saying anything.

"Weylen?" Darwyn finally broke the silence.

"Yeah?"

"If we ever did, you'd be okay with it? You don't think it would mess you up or anything?" the science teacher asked tentatively.

Weylen adjusted his glasses as he thought it over. "I know I really did want to that day, and I kinda still do. We could try it, right?"

Darwyn still couldn't bring himself to give a definitive answer. "I'll think on it, okay? If everything feels right, maybe."

Weylen nodded. "Okay." He peered over at the bathroom, contemplating for a moment before he slid off his seat. "I'll be right back." With that said, he headed off to the rest room to follow Ichitro. It left Darwyn a little baffled.

The walls were laden in seafoam tile, and the space had the faint smell of oranges. Ichitro glanced up, one of his hands still holding his cock steady while he fired into the pronounced white of the urinal. "Too much iced tea?" the bat asked with a simper.

Weylen's eyes were right where Ichitro expected them to be: looking at the end of his cock that was protruding from his sheath. Weylen took his eyes off for only a moment to glance back at the door and make sure it was shut. "I was wondering. You know how you said we could do it again and it wouldn't mean anything?"

Ichitro had stopped urinating, with a few short spurts spilling out as he gave himself a shake. "Yeah, wasn't more than five minutes ago. ... You know that offer's open, but it's got to be the right time. Darwyn's out there. If we started up in here, think of what he'd be thinking. What kind of message it would say to him." He turned to Weylen, though he kept himself exposed and didn't zip up his fly. The teen could at least get a nice look, he figured. "I learned that when I got busy at your house. Not a good idea to leave someone hanging."

Weylen nodded, eyes still very much on one place. He really wanted to, but the coach was right. "... Could I just give it a lick?"

The bat chuckled, the very act of laughter actually shaking his body a bit so that his cocktip jostled about. "It wouldn't stop at a lick; we both know that." He tucked himself back into his pants, pulling up his zipper. "C'mon. That stiff is probably counting the seconds as we speak." He started for the door, but stopped once he reached out for the handle. "But Weylen, don't give up on him just because he's a little uncertain. He's just got to move past some stuff."

The young wolf nodded. "Okay. Tomorrow's Saturday," he pointed out. "I'm not doing anything," he hinted.

"Let's take this one day at a time, huh?" the bat offered with a smile, giving a playful shove to angle the hopeful student toward the door.

-------------

"Well, this was a nicer meal than I'm used to getting," Ichitro commented saucily, "and by nicer, I mean more expensive." He got up from the booth, brushing a few crumbs off him as he did so.

"What are you talking about?" the dingo asked. "You didn't pay a dime of it."

Ichitro offered a thin smile. "You know what I mean." After the wolf had sidled out of the booth, he patted Weylen on the back. "Thanks for the meal. Next time a burger's fine. But I need to get going, I've got to get some exercise tonight. ... You okay with taking Weylen home, science diet?"

That threw the other teacher off. "Take him home? Sure. His, right?" Trying to cover up his awkwardness, he jumped subjects. "And would it kill you to just call me by my name?"

"You never know," the bat countered. "It very well could. I'm not taking any chances."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Have a good night, you two," the coach offered. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Darwyn raised his eyebrows. "Well, that doesn't rule out much."

Weylen wasn't sure what to make of that. He wasn't sure why, but he would have rather have had Ichitro drive him home that night.

Darwyn stood up, glancing toward the door as Ichitro left. "Well, shall we go?"

The young wolf nodded.

Getting into Darwyn's car had become an act of familiarity to him, but it still didn't feel as... well, exciting as getting into Ichitro's truck. The restaurant wasn't terribly far from his home, and the wolf spent most of the short drive giving directions to the dingo. When the car was on the home stretch, Weylen realized that Darwyn had driven him about, but he'd never given him a ride home.

Pulling into the driveway, Darwyn eased his car to a stop before glancing at Weylen. No other car was there, so the dingo presumed Weylen's father wasn't home.

"Thank you so much for the meal," Darwyn offered as he kept the engine running.

"You wouldn't wanna... come in for a bit, would you?" the teen asked hopefully.

The dingo had expected this. "Weylen," he began uncertainly, "I do want to come in. But I don't think I'm going to. We both know your father wouldn't approve." He scratched the back of his head self-consciously. "I'm just starting to believe you, that you'd be okay with it just being a sexual thing. ... But I'm not sure I would."

Weylen glanced at his feet, but nodded.

"Now, that might change one day. Maybe even one day soon. I just... it has to feel right to me. ... Back when I got the chance to spend time with my coach, Coach Packer, I remember that feeling. You know, after you come off your first time, and you see him with somebody else. You feel so mixed up, and just wish it could be you with him instead. I'm betting that's how you felt."

Weylen peered over at Darwyn. "I guess, yeah."

"That's why it's best if I wait. I'm not sure if I can keep it as just sex, no strings attached. And until I'm sure." He leaned over and wrapped his arms around the wolf in a hug. It caught Weylen by surprise, and Darwyn's seat belt restrained him from the full motion he wanted.

Weylen just basked in it before undoing his seat belt. "Okay. But so long as you know I wanna."

"I know. But I still think if you do this with anyone, it should be with someone you love and trust completely." Darwyn smiled.

Weylen nodded, then got out of the car and headed for his door. Once he'd unlocked and opened it, the dingo pulled out of the driveway.

The young wolf realized as he came into the house that he'd left his backpack at school. He'd worry about the homework he hadn't done yet once morning came.

--------------

Weylen wasn't sure when he'd fallen asleep or how long he'd been in bed, but the sensation of light hitting his face was something that he did perceive.

"Hey."

The wolf rolled over and glanced at his doorway. "Mm?" The light was coming from the hallway, shining around a large figure.

Jarvis stood there in his work garb. Rubber boots stopped just short of his knee. His pants were a faint yellow, but smeared with old traces of soot. He must have already taken off the jacket. The suspenders were slung off his shoulders, hanging at his sides. The father was occupied undoing the suspenders to remove them entirely and let them drop to the ground. All he had on his upper body at this point was a faded white tank top.

"Just had a conversation with your coach. He told me about what you two did last week."

Weylen felt a little rush of fear hit him, but Jarvis leaned against the side of the door frame, grinning. "Don't worry. I'm not mad at you. My fault for not taking care of it myself."

Weylen studied his father's face; he was trying to get a better sense of whether Jarvis was actually angry. It didn't seem like it. "So I'm not in trouble?" he asked apprehensively.

"No," the larger wolf answered him sharply. "But that doesn't mean I don't have to take care of this so it doesn't happen again." The large frame of his father took up most of the doorway, with some of the light from the hallway illuminating just enough for Weylen to see his father crook his finger, beckoning Weylen. "Get outta bed."

The young wolf found his glasses on the nightstand and put them on so that he could see better. No doubt about it; that was his father calling him over. Jarvis leaned against the side of the doorframe so that he could pull one of his boots off. After tossing it into the hallway behind him with a clunk, he did the same with the other one. Weylen, meanwhile, wasn't sure what this was about. He stopped a few feet short of his father. "Dad?"

"C'mere."

Weylen approached gingerly. He was in his dad's space now; the young wolf only came up to Jarvis's chest. It just served as a reminder how much bigger his dad was than he was. The bespectacled wolf gazed up with a hint of concern remaining.

"I taught you wrong, before. Sex isn't just something you do with anyone whenever you feel like it. You gotta do it right. With the right person."

He felt Jarvis's larger hand grab him by the wrist and pull it toward him until it brushed against the crotch of his father's trousers. He felt something pushing against them from the other side. Weylen was still looking up at his father, as his dad had often made it a point for Weylen to be looking at him when he was talking. This was startling enough that the wide-eyed wolf had to ask again. "Dad?"

"Unzip it." The father let the wrist go.

Weylen glanced down at the sight of what was clearly Jarvis's cock throbbing inside his trousers. The pants looked much like any other pair of slacks; they were just thicker and the material felt a little more like rubber than cloth. He hesitated. Disobeying his father was something he just didn't do unless it was in small ways likely to escape his notice.

"I said, unzip it." The tone had gone from a direction to a command.

Weylen reached out to grasp the zipper and pull it down slowly. It sounded with a low whir, and the pinkish red flesh of Jarvis's cock all but spilled out as soon as it had room. It hung there, ominously, half-erect, though with each blood-pulsed throb it seemed to be firming up further.

"You sucked that bat's dick, right? Well, if it comes that easy to you then you can suck mine. We're gonna take care of this in-family." Jarvis was so matter-of-fact about it, as if it was the most rational thing in the world.

The teen wolf glanced up. "Dad-"

"The next time you open your mouth, it'd better be to blow me." Weylen felt the back of his head enveloped by the grip of his father's large hand. It tightened just enough so that Weylen knew he meant business, but not so much that it hurt. Just like the day he'd been found out, all he could see was the throbbing thickness and length, protruding from his dad's pants. The smaller canine still hadn't opened his mouth, but his father's insistent hand was pushing him toward it so that the illusion of option all but vanished.

Eyes on the length, all he could do was open up and watch as his father's cock angled into his mouth while his head pushed forward. The tip had already started lubricating, and that was the first thing Weylen experienced: the taste of his father's pre as his warm length docked inside his son's maw.

It felt strange, to Weylen. He was used to doing as his father said, but he'd never asked him to do anything like this before. Was it to educate him? To remind him of his place? ... Was he drunk? No thought or doubt could really answer it for him.

"If you can do it for the bat...." Looming above him, Weylen could see his father's gaze bearing down on him. His brows were furrowed tightly. The grip on the back of the young wolf's head loosened and became more of an insistent pat to get going.

Was he really going to do this?

The younger wolf closed his eyes. He leaned a bit closer, cupping his mouth tighter around the length. It was just like with Ichitro, he told himself. Plus, didn't he want to? When would he get another chance? He did love his father more than anyone else. He got down onto one knee. It felt easier that way.

'Just let it happen.' The thought seemed to carry his concerns away. Every passing second felt like a further surrender. Why not? His dad was allowing it. Encouraging it.

"Thaaat's better." The throaty approval of his father resonated above him, coming out in guttural, heavy breaths as he leaned against the doorframe to Weylen's room. Jarvis clenched his fists as he closed his own eyes for now. "You have done this before."

The inflection in his voice seemed to voice approval, and that was really what allowed Weylen to shake off the last of his concerns. He'd always found his father to be hot, ever since he started figuring out what he was attracted to. The younger wolf reached a paw up to cup the base of Jarvis's cock, right where it emerged from the sheath. Even now, it was pulsing, swelling, allowing for more of the length to slide out, especially with the young wolf's grip. Weylen ran his pink tongue along the fleshy length of his father's dick, the warmth from his tongue dwarfed by the heat resonating from Jarvis's flesh.

Weylen could feel his father buckin his hips forward, wanting to get more of his cock into the smaller wolf's mouth. When he almost knocked Weylen over, Jarvis reached down and pulled his son up after grabbing him under one of his arms. "Back against the bed." He pushed forward, pulling the lupine forward as he went.

Weylen pulled off the cock for just a moment, but his father insistently goaded his mouth back on. Instead, the two of them staggered, Weylen bent over as he ambled uneasily backwards, until his back found the foot of his bed. The smaller wolf allowed himself to be pushed toward the floor, so that he was in a seated position. His head rested against the cushy material of his mattress, which was helpful. The more his father got going, the more insistent he became.

Weylen could feel it as his father bucked into him, driving the full length of his cock at this point into his muzzle and smacking Jarvis's balls against Weylen's chin. He found he had less control over the speed as the firefighter started thrusting. One good one knocked Weylen's head back enough that his glasses tilted off his muzzle and dropped to the rug.

"Leave it."

Weylen had already started reaching with his one free hand to get them, but he stopped as soon as he got the command.

Almost as if to verify, Weylen looked up at the frame of his father. He was panting now, his grip on both of his son's shoulders as he continued to thrust forward. The broad shoulders, the muscled arms and fairly defined chest, the slight paunch that lined below it. No doubt, it was his father.

Jarvis was gazing down at him again, huffing him as he watched himself drive his cock into Weylen's mouth. "That's it. Yeah... open up. Open up for Dad." As soon as he did, Weylen could feel the difference as Jarvis was able to bear down from his angle to get all the way back into his mouth. Each jab, Weylen could feel the cock press against the back of his mouth, right on the opening to his throat. After a few more thrusts, Jarvis slowed the pace down and just started pushing. That secondary impact was a steady one now, the head of Jarvis's cock pushing against the opening of Weylen's throat.

Weylen could already feel it giving way a bit, and he'd remembered some what to do, with Ichitro and with Riley. He swallowed, and he could feel it as the flap pulled open, allowing for the cock to push farther in. Welcomed by the ring of muscles at the top of Weylen's throat, the head of Jarvis's cock began to slide down, kneaded by Weylen's esophagus.

The grip he had on his father's cock tightened. Jarvis's dick was in his throat. The firefighter's balls dangled just an inch in front of Weylen, another immediate reminder of what was going down. There was no going back now. Not by this point.

He could feel Jarvis trying to pull his cock back, but his throat was fighting to keep it where it was. The suction seemed to be just what he was after, because despite not being to pull out very much, he instead opted to try pushing back in. His thrusts were barely perceptible, showing more on his body frame than on the length itself, held in place. Each was definitely causing Jarvis's testicles to sway back and forth.

"Enough of this foreplay." With a strong pull and a bit of a pop, Jarvis withdrew from Weylen's mouth, a bit to his surprise. "Get on your bed."

Weylen got to his feet, peering at his father before sitting on the edge of his bed. He could feel what he knew had been going on. He had a wet spot on his underwear, the only thing he was wearing, and his own erection seemed to be threatening to tear through the fabric. Thinking back to his prior times, Weylen wondered if Jarvis was about to return the favor.

"Back. Lie down."

As soon as Weylen backed up, using his arms and legs to crawl backward so that he was on the back in the middle of his bed, he noticed that his dad was climbing onto the bed too. Planting his large right foot first, he then propelled forward, his left arm keeping him balanced as he started to position himself over Weylen. The father slumped onto his knees before bringing his other arm forward to plant itself on the other side of Weylen.

It had all seemed to happen in a few seconds, but it took longer than that for it to really dawn on Weylen that his father, hard as a rock, was positioned over him. His cock angled downward, but would pull upward with each pulse of hot circulation that ran through him before the cock bobbed back down again. Jarvis seemed to be waiting for something, but when it failed to happen, he straightened up, grabbing Weylen by both his ankles and pulling them upward.

"You pull 'em off or I will."

His underwear. Oh! The wolf uneasily fumbled with his underwear, pulling them off his own erection and sliding the pair down his thighs. Jarvis let go of one of Weylen's ankles just long enough to grab them and pull them off, the rest of the way, adjusting his grip as he did so.

Jarvis tossed the pair aside. Re-establishing the grip on Weylen's ankle, he pulled the trunk of Weylen's body toward him a bit before pushing his ankles forward, folding the wolf somewhat in half and leaving Weylen's ass in the air. He could see Jarvis leaning his head down. The smaller wolf was pretty sure he knew what was coming. He closed his eyes, waiting for it.

Jarvis didn't hit the region he thought he would. No mouth wrapped around his cock. The firefighter was lower down... more toward the back. The warmth of his tongue hit the young lupine's sphincter.

Weylen thought for sure he'd have tensed up at something like this, but instead, he relaxed. The tongue delved into him. He could feel it massaging into him. He gripped his bedspread. It was new territory for him. He'd remembered reading about stuff like this in sex ed. Was he ready?

The tongue withdrew, and as Weylen opened his eyes, he saw that his father was closing some of the distance between the two of them, while keeping Weylen's ankles held tight. Jarvis loomed a bit ominously over his son, while Weylen tried to figure out what was going on.

"Dad?"

"I'm gonna show you how wolves really have sex."

Weylen glanced down along his body. His ass was still in the air, held up some from the bed, and what he felt pressing on his opening at this point was clearly not a tongue. More solid, harder. Wait. Was that... it had to be.

Jarvis was going to fuck him.

Too surprised to say much of anything, he felt it as the hot length pushed into him, the confines of the small wolf's anus almost automatically bearing down as it did so. Even so, no amount of squeezing could have ever stopped what was entering. Jarvis breathed throatily above him as he buried his length, pushing in despite some signs of discomfort and surprise on Weylen's face. Weylen had gritted his teeth. There was no stopping it. His smaller, thinner legs fidgeted about some, but as Jarvis had him held fast by the ankles, he couldn't have gotten away if he'd wanted to. There were seconds when he did... and yet seconds when he did not.

Jarvis was leaning in, and he could feel the warmth of his breath against his face. No alcohol. He seemed to be buried to the hilt, and could push in no further. Weylen didn't think he could imagine being occupied like this.

"Grip yer bed, and try to keep loose, so it doesn't hurt."

That was all that Weylen got, before Jarvis withdrew halfway and reversed so that he could begin his violation of his son. He was losing his virginity to his dad, he remembered thinking. Any thoughts beyond that became interrupted, quickly, by the hot length of dick pushing into him, as he wavered between trying to accept it and trying to push it out.

Weylen could feel both the bump of Jarvis's knot and the furred smack of his balls each time he reached the crest of penetration, each moment making a bit of a wet smack into the smaller one.

His dad. It still seemed so unreal. His dad was fucking him. His dick. His dick was in him, right now. Weylen could feel the wetness of pre running off of his own length, and though he tried to squirm, he kept finding he couldn't get far. He was at his dad's mercy.

And yet... and yet it felt better than anything he'd ever felt. Deep within him, he felt something convulse, something he was only vaguely aware he'd ever had. Weylen groaned, curling his toes in an almost involuntary response. Everything seemed involuntary.

"Huff... oh yeah... get ready!" The knot pushed against him, and he felt like he couldn't deny it any more.

"Ohhhh yeeeeeah...." He was only vaguely aware of those words before he felt it. The knot had pushed into him, and it could no longer get out. His father locked into him, Weylen could feel a wet stream, almost as if someone were peeing into him, but this was warmer, thicker... and it would stop for a brief second before more impacted.

His father's ejaculation into him was more than he could handle. His own cock had been tingling, almost distantly, separate from himself, but now it was clear enough it was him, and he was going to shoot. Weylen shot semen all over him, but it didn't launch far. Somehow it seemed to remain settled on his own groin. More and more flowed, creating a hot, sticky mess on his groin area. He was distantly aware of it.

His eyes opened. Disoriented, he became aware his light wasn't really on. The room was pretty dark yet. His dad wasn't there. No one was there. He tried to make sense of it all, peering around the room. He found he could move freely. While he felt strange, everywhere down below, his cock coming down from the euphoria of his ejaculation, and even his insides seeming to settle down, having been worked up, almost receptive... it still took him a moment to piece it together.

-------------

He was in his underwear, which was now pasted with the warm, wet contents of ejaculation. A dream. He'd just had a wet, wet dream.

It just left him all the more unsure of what to make of it. Was that a good dream? A nightmare? The sheer embarrassment at everyone knowing seemed to be what had woken him up. But what was more, it left him wondering... was that what he wanted?

No. Weylen had to admit, he found his dad attractive. He had for years... but even more attractive than his figure was his strength of personality. Weylen didn't really see any sign his dad thought of him like that. Asking about it would only cause him to die of embarrassment.

The sunlight was just beginning to light the shaded window, and a glance at his alarm clock confirmed that it was still very early. 6:34 am. It was Saturday.

Just to be absolutely sure it was a dream, Weylen wandered out into the hallway to see if his father had come home. The bed was made. The wolf remembered that his father had been scheduled until 6am. He crept down the stairs, and as he did so, he saw the telltale pile of discarded clothes in the foyer. When Jarvis was really tired from work, drunk, or both, he usually stripped down as soon as he came in and collapsed on the couch in his den.

Apparently today, Jarvis was in fine form, because he'd only managed to dive over the arm of the couch, so that his upper body was resting pretty comfortably on the plush surface, but his waist and lower body were splayed limply over the side. Only Jarvis's feet were on the floor, though he could be hardly said to be standing. Weylen marveled at how he could sleep like that.

What was more, his dad was only in his underwear. The occasional rumble told the wolf that his father was asleep, even if he was facing into the couch.

Weylen edged closer to his father, the young wolf wary that he might wake up. He became more and more assured, though, that Jarvis was out, by this point. He'd learned to read into the different levels of snoring. The son couldn't help himself. He got down on his knees, then sprawled onto his side so that he could crawl into the tented opening between the couch and the lower half of Jarvis's body.

The underwear was in the way, but he could see the outline of his father's bulge clearly enough. He was pretty sure the large wolf was partly aroused, or at least unsheathed a bit.

What if he just... did it? Mouthed him like he had in the dream? It had a certain dirty appeal. ... But no. He probably wasn't so out of it that he wouldn't wake up. What followed would probably be awkward, if not hostile.

He loved his dad. That was actually why he wanted not to have sex with him. The whole feeling was just odd... topsy turvy from how Weylen usually felt. Didn't Darwyn say that loving someone would make the most sense for having sex?

A brief rumble escaped the slumbering wolf, and that was enough to jar Weylen to scoot out of there and sneak from the room. Sex and love seemed simple, but together, they ended up so complicated.

--------------

Monday came around way too quickly for any student's taste. Then again, Weylen was hoping to spend some more time with Ichitro, even if he didn't have gym or sex ed today. He was too thrown, on Saturday, to call and ask. Now what he wasn't sure of, though, was how he'd get a chance to.

Things just didn't seem to line up for that. About the only opportunity he expected to have was lunch. History was dragging on, and he'd heard way too much about the Articles of Confederation, the Constitution, and their differences. Weylen wanted out.

"Weylen?"

The young wolf shook off his train of thought as soon as he heard his name. Eyes wide, Weylen peered at Mr. Tomar in front of the class.

"I asked if you can give me another difference between the Articles of Confederation and the Constitution."

Weylen struggled to remember. "Two houses of Congress?"

"Very good," the rat professor commended. "Again, a major focus was on states' power and making sure that the larger, more populous states wouldn't invalidate the smaller ones. Now-" he continued, before the shrill ring of the bell cut him off. "Your homework, since we didn't cover it all, will be to list the ten amendments in the Bill of Rights, and then pick one to elaborate upon its significance. Be ready to discuss it tomorrow."

Weylen took just long enough to jot down the assignment before throwing his book and pen into his backpack. He hurried into the hallway, planning to detour for the gym to talk with Ichitro.

He didn't get very far. "Weylen." The taller form of Riley intercepted his path. Weylen stopped just short of colliding with him. "I need a favor, mate."

Even with the recent invite to Weylen's birthday party, this interaction was unusual. Riley usually made it a point to insult and deride Weylen whenever other students were around. Whether it was only a means to keep his standing among the cool students or something more, Weylen wasn't sure. But right now, plenty of others were around, so this earnest moment felt out of place.

"Favor?"

"Yeah," Riley went on. "I need to see my dad after school. I really want ya to come with me."

From the recent talks the two had, Weylen knew that things with Riley and his dad had been rocky. They used to have a pretty good relationship, but it had turned. Riley admitted to Weylen that he'd been telling his mother that he didn't want to go over to his father's flat, but his father kept insisting that he had a right to see Riley. His mother's response was typical: negligent, absent-minded encouragement to visit his dad, without paying any attention to what Riley really wanted.

"Wait," Weylen murmured, sifting through the memory of their recent talk. "I thought you didn't wanna go to your father's-"

"I don't. But I wanna wrestle, and I need parent's permission. Mum already made clear she ain't signing it. It'll be easier if I go with someone. I'll make an excuse so we don't gotta stay."

The smaller wolf smiled slightly. "I don't work today. I guess I could, if it's not gonna take long."

"I don't aim on it," the kangaroo remarked darkly. "So after Mr. D's class."

Weylen nodded as Riley walked off without another word, almost as if wanting to lose the perception the conversation had ever happened.

Weylen thought of what he knew of Riley's parents. It was odd. Ms. Marse was always exceedingly nice to Weylen. Weylen did notice, though, that she never paid a second thought to Riley. It was something that grated on the adolescent kangaroo. 'It's because I ain't smart, an' I remind her of dad. He's no shinin' star either.' Weylen had never met Rufus, however.

Unfortunately, that conversation had left him little time to get out of the halls before he would be out of place. At least if he made it to the gym, he'd not have to explain his lack of a hall pass. The bell sounded just as he entered the locker room.

It was unnerving, turning the corner. Weylen wasn't sure if they were juniors or seniors, but they were older than him, all in the locker room, a few partway through changing. As much as the canine might have wanted to sneak a peek, embarrassment quickly won out, as he turned his head away and tried to go back around the corner.

"Weylen?"

The assistant coach's voice froze him in his tracks. He knew he couldn't just leave, now.

"Guys, c'mon, hurry up and get changed. You know Coach will mark you absent if you're not out there in five minutes." His voice lowered as he stepped around the corner. "Weylen, is something wrong?"

The wolf felt silly for a moment... but then again, Weasel might just be the right one to talk to about a few things. "I was kinda hoping to talk with, uh."

"Ichitro's already out there and he's got a class to teach. Anything I can help with?"

The student nodded a bit thickly. "Uh, but...."

Weasel smiled slightly in tacit understanding. "C'mon, step into the office."

Weylen didn't glance toward the locker room, and he made it a point to hurry in. Weasel shut the door behind them, and he even drew the blind on the office door's window.

"So, what's on your mind?" the assistant coach asked, leaning against the desk. Weylen opted to take the seat in front of it.

"I kinda... had a few things I'd wanted to talk about with Ichitro. But you could help too. I had this... this dream."

"'Bout him?" Weasel asked, inclining his head in the general direction of where he expected Ichitro to be.

Weylen shook his head. "Nah. But it was an adult dream. About my dad."

Weasel glanced down at some papers on the desk. "Ah, one of those."

The pupil peered over. "It's not bad?"

Weasel shrugged. "People usually don't control the content of their dreams. It's a mix of whatever you're worried about, whatever you experienced recently, what you were last thinking of... a lot of things. And it's usually driven by emotions, basic urges, or both. So no, it's not bad."

Weylen glanced back at the door, wanting to make doubly sure they were alone and had privacy. "I'm not sure what to think about it. I mean, I like my dad. More than anyone."

Weasel shrugged again. "Sure."

"And I know I've been wanting to... you know, get together with someone badly. But I don't know about with him."

"All this is sounding fine to me," Weasel reassured.

"It is?"

"Yeah," he confirmed. "You love your dad. You recognize that it'd be kinda weird to have sex with your dad. So what's the problem?"

Weylen wasn't sure if he could bring it up, but he did anyway. "I'm kinda... attracted to my dad. I don't- it doesn't mean I want to-" he backpedaled.

Weasel could only smile. "Hey. The fact that you have the sense to recognize that not everyone that gives you a boner is a good opportunity for sex already makes me feel better. Don't worry. I get what you mean. I'm usually worried Ichitro's not giving you all the information you need."

The wolf blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Ever notice in sex ed, how Coach goes greatly into detail about the physical risks of sex? But when it comes to the emotional risks of sex, he acknowledges them, usually dismisses it as a problem only some people have, and just quickly throws in a word of caution. ... Then, once class is over, when he's with you, he seems ready to get dirty, as if he doesn't even recognize what he'd just said in class." Weasel shook his head. "He keeps trying to tell me that what he does with you is fine."

Now Weylen was feeling uncomfortable for an entirely different reason. "Is-isn't it?"

Weasel sighed in response. "Not really, between a teacher and student. Especially if they're figuring themselves out. He treats you as if you're just like him. Same carefree attitude, no hangups. And he can't know that yet."

The wolf grunted. "So... who am I like, if I'm not like him?"

Weasel grinned, leaning across the desk to fuzzle the hair on Weylen's head. "You're like Weylen! That's the point. You can't be expected to react exactly like anyone else."

Weylen returned a wan smile, trying to give the impression that it made him feel better than it actually did.

"The point is, you need to do what feels right, to Weylen. ...So!" Weasel interjected into the silence. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Riley asked me to go with him after school."

The darkened expression washed over Weasel at once. It was clear enough Weasel did not think well of Riley given recent events. "Go where?"

"His dad's."

"So his dad is going to be there?" Weasel cross-examined.

"I think so," Weylen commented, definitely picking up on the contradiction of Weasel's personality now. "You don't think I should?"

"I don't trust you alone with Riley," he said simply.

"Riley's fine," contended the wolf. "We've been talking a lot this week. You don't know him as well as you think you do."

Weasel shook his head. "I walked in on enough to be very cautious, and frankly, I'm surprised you're not more so."

"I thought I'm Weylen, capable of making my own decisions, not expected to react like anyone else," he pushed back defensively. "So why is it you don't think much of it when I say Riley's fine?"

"You're too sweet, Weylen." There it was, out in the open. "And people like Riley prey on that. You've got to watch yourself. Him," he remarked, thumbing toward the gymnasium to indicate Ichitro, "I know he's got a good heart. Riley...." Weasel shook his head again. "Think about it. Some of the worst lies are the ones we tell ourselves, in silence. You know what he tried to do."

That was enough for him. Weylen got up. "Yeah, thanks. I need to get going."

Weasel had picked up that he'd clearly offended the wolf, standing up along with him and putting both hands up toward the teenager, "I'm sorry. You're right. Please, just give me one more moment to explain."

It gave Weylen enough pause to stop moving. He said nothing.

Weasel's expression was of intense concern, "You are Weylen. You're one of the sharpest students I know. If there was anyone I'd trust with anything, it's you. But the last thing I want to see or hear is that someone took advantage of you. That's the only reason I've spoken this way. I would have a very hard time with it if I ever heard you got hurt. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I wasn't able to be there for you because you didn't want to come to me."

Weylen looked terribly uncomfortable, but he couldn't find it in him to move yet.

Weasel added, "I wasn't trying to write Riley off as this bad kid. The truth is I don't know, so I shouldn't make it sound as if I do. I'll keep my opinion in check more and be more receptive. I want you to feel you can bring anything to me. I'll help where I can, and only if you want me to. Even if it's just listening and nothing else. That's my guarantee to you."

Weylen had a hard time looking back at Weasel, but he finally responded, "I really need to get to class."

Weasel nodded and didn't push the issue. "You'll need a hall pass."

Weylen felt a little trapped by that. "Alright."

Weasel wrote it out in silence, and just watched as the pupil hurried out of the office after receiving it.

-------------

When science class had ended, Weylen offered a warm goodbye to Darwyn, but Riley was pretty insistent upon the two of them setting off. As students got lost in the chatter and slams of locker doors, the wolf sought to keep up with Riley, who apparently didn't want to have it look like Weylen was actually walking with him.

The lupine realized that he should probably have gotten his math textbook from his locker before setting off, but there was no time, if he wanted to keep up with Riley. The brisk pace only lasted the first few blocks from school. After that, Riley actually turned and waited for Weylen to catch up.

The two were headed in a direction that was nearly opposite Weylen's house. While Weylen lived in the across the river and in the woods in the west of town, Riley lived in the north section, and so did his father.

"We gotta make this quick, too, because mum's gonna be home in an hour or so," Riley explained, once again picking up the pace.

The trek went right through the downtown, amid flashing crosswalks, red lights, and heavier traffic as they passed by the shops, businesses, and eateries of the mid-sized town. On they went, for almost two miles.

Weylen knew when they didn't take the roads to the east that they were heading into the poorer north section. A collection of apartments and shanties lined the base of the north hills. Most of the individuals worked in the coal mines or logging camp to the north. This was very much a blue-collar area, redneck and a little isolated. The string of businesses had faded into a stretch of empty stretch along the road, with nothing more than a gas station and convenience store as a sign of commercial interest. The houses came first, little more than single-story box houses with faded paint and gravel or dirt driveways.

The sidewalk had stopped, and instead it had been been replaced by worn stretches of bare dirt flanked on either side by grasses. It abruptly gave the impression that this stretch of road was not cared for as well as the commercial area to the south.

Weylen couldn't help but think about how far he was getting from his house. His place was in the woods, but it was nestled on a stretch of a long road surrounded by lots of trees. This stretch, even for being fairly close to the town center, felt neglected more than away from it all.

"Hey," Riley commented as they approached a pair of streets that flanked off to the left from this road. "Whatcha lookin' at?" The kangaroo had noticed Weylen's eyes wandering.

"Nothing," Weylen deflected. "I just haven't been down this way before."

"Yeah, real beautious landscape, right? Funny thing is they've offered to lay sidewalks to this place twice, and both times the folks here told 'em no. They like it this way."

"So where's your dad live?" the wolf asked.

Riley pointed to the second street on the left. "He's at the end of this one. The street ain't too long, just like eight houses." The larger kangaroo scratched his head. "Listen, we're here to get the form signed and then we're out."

Weylen nodded in understanding. "Okay."

"If my dad starts asking ya stuff, just lemme answer. Sometimes he's kinda particular, especially if he's had a few."

The teenage canine grunted in recognition, but all the more he found himself wondering about Riley's father. The kangaroo ranged all over when talking about him: pride, fear, avoidance, contempt, respect.

Each house was its own eclectic blend of redneck property. The first was surrounded by a fence so high you couldn't see inside it. The second had three cars parked on its small front lawn, tire treads tearing up any chance of stable lawn. The third had so many tacky fence and lawn ornaments littering it that it took the focus off the dilapidated condition of the front of the house. The fourth was entirely overgrown with weeds, with only a walkway cutting from the driveway to the screened porch. By then, the oddity had worn off, and the student instead looked ahead to see Riley's father's house.

"That it?" Weylen asked, pointing.

"Yeah," Riley admitted with mild embarrassment. The house was a fair length away from the road, with a dirt driveway that distanced it. Even so, inside the chain-link fence that surrounded the property appeared to be a sea of something.

"Are those... cans?" Weylen asked as they reached the driveway.

"Yeah, beer cans. Dad's makin' some kinda' moat of, uh, accomplishment. Don't ask. C'mon."

Weylen didn't ask, but as he got onto the property, he got a better sense of what was going on. The entire outside edge of the yard had a pit, some two feet deep, and it was half-filled with empties. Weylen tried not to pay it much mind, but it proved harder than he thought.

The front porch looked to be self-made, or perhaps just poorly constructed. The wood used wasn't polished or even finished. It looked almost as if someone had cut the wood and constructed the porch himself. It even gave way, slightly, as Weylen stepped upon it, despite the thick pieces used to construct its surface. Right in front of the two was a screened breezeway, with just a few simple benches, a side table, and what looked to be a mini-fridge inside it.

"C'mon." Riley had a key to the place, and he unlocked the door to the breezeway.

"Is he home?" Weylen asked, glancing about. There was no vehicle in the driveway.

"S'posed ta be," he assured.

"Does he drive?"

"Dad rides a motorcycle most times. He's got a car in the shop right now, I think."

Still, Weylen saw neither of those. There were tire tracks all over the dirt driveway, some which wrapped around the house. Riley led Weylen into the breezeway. Even with the open air wafting through it, there was the distinct smell of liquor here. He'd become familiar enough with it from Jarvis.

Riley headed over to the door that led into the true interior of the house. As soon as he inserted the key and started to turn it, a bellow came from inside.

"RILEY? 'Zat you?"

The voice was deep, loud, and with an accent thicker than the one Riley had. His had been tempered somewhat, interacting with the others at school.

"Yeah, dad. Got a classmate with me!" Riley sent through the door.

"Well, fuck, thanks fer sayin'. Otherwise woulda had me apricots out. In."

Riley glanced at Weylen before opening the door. He headed in first.

Weylen had come across scenes somewhat like the interior of the house in his own. When his father had been drinking after a rough night, there would be a handful of bottles strewn about on the table and floor, along with his clothes. This was a complete and utter extension of that, had Weylen never cleaned up and let it take over the house. To the right was the living room. There were items of clothing strewn everywhere. Jeans, underwear, undershirts, socks, t-shirts. They were scattered about the living room, on the floor, and on every surface but the couch and coffee table, the latter of which was covered in a sea of beer cans and a few rum bottles. To the left, the beer cans and alcohol boxes mingled with a stack of pizza boxes and a bunch of glasses, on the kitchen table, on the counter, really on any surface that had room.

Riley's father was hard to miss despite the clutter. He walked in from the next room, but remained in the doorway, looming. Everything about being here had an eerie parallel to Weylen's house. Riley's father didn't seem to care what others thought of his living space or how he presented himself, much like Weylen's father did. Even so, something about it felt dictinctly different.

Perhaps it was the fact that Weylen knew his father and felt comfortable around him. Riley's father, Rufus was a bit of an unknown. True, Riley had talked about him, but his doing so had just made the large kangaroo even more of an unknown. Riley would switch off on whether he was speaking well or poorly of his dad.

The sienna-furred kangaroo was large, too. With the exception of Whittaker Bruin, Jarvis had been one of the tallest adults Weylen knew. Rufus didn't come close to matching Whittaker's size, but he was still easily several inches taller than the wolf's parent. Rufus had a thick build like Jarvis, but where the big wolf had a somewhat toned abdomen beneath his barrel chest, Rufus instead had a discernible gut. The imposing kangaroo wasn't what someone would just write off as fat; that would give the wrong impression. Years of mining and heavy lifting had given him a defined chest and shoulders, but he still had a roll of belly fat concentrated around his front. His biceps were just as brawny, and noticeably thicker than his forearms. Truthfully, every body part of his seemed an overt reminder of his size.

The underwear did little for modesty or decorum either. The slightly discolored white underwear merely covered his obvious erection, and did not so much contain it. Weylen tried his best not to stare as the pulsation running through Rufus's endowment actually created visible movement. A wet dot already marked a reminder just where the tip of it pressed, as if the tented shape wasn't enough. His testicles were further reminders of his anatomy, draping atop his length in the confined space. Below that, his thick legs blocked a good bit of the doorway before they tapered below his knees. His more slender calves only seemed to make his very large feet all the bigger, jutting out in front of him.

In an effort not to stare rudely elsewhere, Weylen forced himself to look up at Rufus's face. His muzzle sported unkempt fur all about, varied in length and suggesting that he just didn't care that much for good grooming. He had a moustache, but unlike a few of the teachers or adults Weylen knew, Rufus's didn't connect below his nose, and instead ran thickly back on each side of his muzzle.

Even looking him in the eye felt a bit of a challenge to Weylen. He was glad when Riley broke the silence.

"Dad, you're not workin' today?"

Rufus grinned slightly in response. "Not til tomorrow. Fancy you stoppin' by. ... For the first time in three weeks." There was an ominous weight to his words.

"Yeah," the younger marsupial agreed dodgily. "Sorry about that, dad, been meanin' to visit. School's keepin' me busy. In fact," he continued, with increasing speed to get his lie out, "me'n Weylen have a science project to get to, and he can't stay long. I just had this permission slip I need signed. Wrestlin' team," he explained. "Mum doesn't think I can handle it, so I figure I could get you to. You know how good I am."

Rufus's eyebrow had just seemed to go up higher the longer that Riley kept talking.

"You came over here... to get me to sign a school form... when yer mum told ya no, and you haven't been by fer three weeks. Yer not even stayin'."

Riley wasn't the smoothest of talkers. "It's like I said, Weylen-" he began, before his father cut him off.

"After that talk we had last time, too. Apparently I didn't drill the lesson in good enough, if yer tryin' to play me against yer mum. You remember my lesson on bein' a man?"

"Dad, c'mon," Riley diverted. "I got a fr- uh, classmate over."

"I was gonna say," Rufus remarked. "I'm kinda surprised you brought the scrawny wolf over after the way you talked about him last time. This must be the jackpot to you, seein' me like this, 'ey?" He peered down at Weylen.

The focus on him made the lupine increasingly uncomfortable, especially given how it had come up. He said nothing.

"Dad, stuff's changed. We get on now."

"Well, maybe I'd know that if you'd have stopped by and didn't avoid me three weeks, I'd know that. All the same, mate, enjoy the view." He leaned against the doorway. "You seriously want me to sign that form against 'er wishes? You'n I know how it'll turn out. All fer it now, you'll give it a burl, but in a few weeks, it's balls up, you bail out."

"I'm not gonna quit," Riley reassured.

"Too right yer not, because I'm not signin'. Yer mum is still tryin' to shut me out of seein' ya, and you want me to go against her wishes. It's disrespectful, Riley; I didn't bring ya up like that." Rufus took a step out from the doorway. "Be a man about things at least. Now, you gonna stay over, tonight? You told me you were gonna be over the two weekends a month, and I only saw ya once in the first week. September ends tomorrow."

Weylen could tell by the look in Riley's eyes that he felt trapped.

"Tell you what," Rufus said. "You stay tonight, make your case. If I think you have balls enough to stick with it, I'll sign the bloody form."

Riley grunted. "Yeah, all right dad, I'll stay."

Rufus nodded. "That's more like it. What about him?"

Weylen felt the focus of attention on him again.

"Nah," Riley decided. "He's got to get goin'."

"Might be fer the best. You owe me some father-son time," Rufus pointed out.

"It's all right Weylen. We'll, uh... the science project, we can do it tomorrow."

The young wolf had no idea what was going on, but it was clear enough he was being asked to go. "Oh. Okay. I'll see you tomorrow at school, Riley."

A moment later, he was on the screened-in porch, the door shut behind him. It had been so weird. It felt a lot less comfortable than when he was at his own house. He wondered if other kids felt as out of place when the visited. Riley's dad didn't seem so bad, Weylen thought. Whenever Riley had spoken about him, it felt like he spoke warmly of him, then just didn't want to talk about it any more.

The muffled voices of Riley and his father jarred Weylen into realizing he was still on the porch. Riley had asked him to come along for a reason, to act as an excuse so that he wouldn't have to stay. Had that changed? Was Riley okay?

The old bedsheet that acted as a curtain to the windows into the interior of the house did have an open gap. Curiosity got the better of him. He was fully aware he could walk away and head home, but doing so felt... not quite right. Riley had made pretty clear that he wanted to go before he was talked into staying.

Weylen figured out quickly he was able to hear the conversation from out here.

"You mind tellin' me why you ain't been around?"

"Come off it, dad."

"You come off it, Riley. Quit bein' dodgy."

"So I didn't come home for a few weeks."

"And you show up when you need a form signed. What's this about?"

Riley didn't provide an answer.

"'Ey. You dodgin' me, then?"

"Dad-"

"Out with it."

"It's weird, all right?" Riley snapped.

"What d'ya mean, weird?"

"What happened."

"Fer shit's sake. There's nothin' weird about it. It's a Sambia tradition. My dad did it ta me."

Riley was silent.

"Look. It doesn't make ya a homo. It's a transition of manhood. In order to become a man, you need to absorb 'is essence. You wanna be a man, right? Riley?"

"...Yeah."

"Then man up, ya bogan."

Weylen wasn't really ready for what followed. Rufus settled onto the couch, opting to push the coffee table at its foot off to the side, knocking a bottle off as he did so. The wolf found it hard not to gawk. Tucking his thumb into his underwear, he allowed his erection to spring out. In most ways it looked like Riley's, likely about the same length. However, it was notably thicker, throbbing against his beer gut as he sprawled his legs out in front of the open space.

The canine silently cursed as Riley blocked his view, and he waited impatiently for him to get out of the way. The wolf realized, though, that Riley wasn't doing that. His friend got down on his knees. Weylen leaned to the side to get a better view just in time to see Riley's closed eyes and open mouth.

Riley engulfed the thicker cock. Weylen watched in breathless awe as the tough bully kangaroo who dominated him began to blow his father. Rufus was showing control in the situation, too, grasping the teen's head and directing his pace to his liking.

Weylen felt frozen to the spot. Riley had talked about how something had happened with his father, but he'd never gotten really specific. Did he mean this?

Rufus's sizable feet sprawled forward, one on each side of the smaller kangaroo. Just watching someone else entirely blow another adult was... amazing. He'd never really watched much porn, growing up. He didn't dare with his father. He'd seen his dad, but even that was different. This was a stranger, having sex with someone he knew. It was hard to know where that registered.

It wasn't tough to know, physically. Weylen could feel himself getting hard, within his pants. He fought the urge to undo them and start jacking to the scene. What would Riley think of something like that?

Weylen glanced up a bit, and that was when he realized. Rufus's eyes were locked on him, right where Weylen was peeking in through the window. All the while, Rufus wore a lopsided smirk. Wide-eyed with a mixture of fear and adrenaline, the wolf felt even more frozen than before.

"'Atta boy, son. Suck me off like you wanna suck that wolf." Rufus's eyes were locked on Weylen's. As much as part of him wanted to bolt, Weylen just couldn't.

Riley started to lift his head off, and he pulled off just enough to start a protest before Rufus yanked the kangaroo's mouth back onto his cock, causing Riley to sputter for a second while he tried to readjust to the warm length pressed against the back of his mouth.

"'Ey. What'd I say about leavin' jobs unfinished?" he barked at the teen. Rufus slouched a bit, stretching his legs out even further, flexing his long toes.

His eyes never left Weylen. They just burned into him. Rufus licked his lips and huffed out a heavy breath as Riley continued to bob over his length.

"Tighter." Rufus closed his eyes just for a second, and Weylen saw the large kangaroo shudder as Riley continued to bob his head into his dad's groin and belly. "Awww, that's the stuff. Now yer learnin' how to blow."

Weylen had gotten so excited that the tip of his cock had actually found its way out of the top of his shorts, dripping presemen onto his fur. He was aware of it, and yet he almost felt detached from himself, as if he couldn't reconcile that this was going on.

"You ain't got a girl yet," Rufus pointed out to his son. "And you ain't broken anyone's seal yet, 'ey, Riley?"

Weylen couldn't fathom it. Rufus was motionining with the crook of his finger on his free hand. He was beckoning Weylen to come in.

Was this happening? Weylen dared not go. What would Riley think?

It took a handful of quiet seconds before Rufus realized Weylen wasn't coming in. "No?" The wolf wasn't sure who that was in reference to. "All right." Rufus traced a hand down Riley's front until it came to rest on his son's belly. He started to tear right through Riley's shirt, the audible rip just another jarring event of these intense moments. Riley looked uncomfortable, and for a second he started to straighten up, before his father leaned down.

"Don't even think about it," he growled in a low voice. "Undo yer trousers. Show me what yer hidin'."

Riley grudgingly got up off his knees, still held onto his father's length while he stumbled a bit to take one leg out of his trousers, then the other. Weylen couldn't see Riley's front, but the dad answered what the visiting lupine expected was the case.

"Hard-on again, 'ey fella? Clear enough you got some manhood in ya. Just not enough, though, is it, son?" Riley grunted something. "No backtalk," the large barrel-chested kangaroo snapped. "Underwear down."

Riley obeyed. He pulled his underwear down awkwardly with one hand to about his knees.

"Hold it there. Keep 'em at yer knees, boyo. And get back on 'em, too."

Weylen watched as Riley complied. The wolf couldn't help it. His own cock was uncomfortably pushing against his pants. He had to undo the clasp. That's what he told himself.

"Well," Rufus remarked while he continued to look over his son at the peering wolf, "seems the first dose of manhood didn't take, Riley, if ya ain't bagged anyone yet by rootin' em. Mouth off."

Riley complied, sliding off his father's length. He was grateful for the moment's rest.

"You got a thing fer the wolf, don't ya? Yer a homo."

Riley squirmed a bit in front of his father. "Dad-"

"S'all right, Riley," Rufus muttered. "Sometimes it takes more'n one go ta transfer manhood." The kangaroo stood up, looming over his teenage son, left in nothing but his underwear wrapped at his knees. As he took a step toward the window, Weylen finally found the courage- or perhaps fear- to move. He ducked.

"Dad, what're you doin'?"

"On the couch, son. This dose is gonna take."

"... Dad, hold on-"

"Shut it. Keep like that."

"Dad-" Riley tried again.

There was a deep chuckle. "Relax, boyo. You like what we're doin. Look at you, hard as a rock. The first dose was top- down. This one I'm gonna plant closer to where it needs to be."

"Da-dad. You said homos do this."

"Ain't a homo if yer the topper, Riley. Remember that. And this? It's just an injection 'a manhood."

"But I-"

"...Fer the last time, Riley. Yer dad knows what's good for ya."

Weylen peered up again at the window. He couldn't see much of Riley, who was now on his back on the couch. Most of what he saw was the large frame of Rufus, his well-defined back and rear framing around his thick tail.

But tucked under each of his thick arms were one of Riley's calves. Riley's underwear was stretched tight, so much that it seemed like it just might rip under the strain.

The teenage kangaroo inhaled sharply. "Da-"

"Just relax, Riley, let yer dad pop yer cherry. I'll be the only one that ever does. Don't make ya a homo at all."

Weylen peered from the very corner, and he was able to see a bit more. He couldn't see Riley's face between the underwear and his father's thick body.

But that thick cock, that thick cock of someone a total stranger to him until today, was pushing into Riley as the teen squirmed, toes and calves fidgeting about as he strained to take it.

"If ya quit resistin', it'll feel better," the father barked.

"It's too-" Riley started again, but his father took a pillow from the side of the couch and planted it against Riley's face a bit.

"Damn it, if yer gonna be a pillow biter about this, here. But it's gettin' done."

Weylen could only watch in a mix of arousal, shame, and concern, rationalization, and condemnation as Rufus started thrusting his thickness into the tough teen Weylen knew. Every exit showed a sheen of bodily fluids lubricating the dad's cock. Deep grunts mixed with the occasional assurance this was for Riley's good, only to be broken up by dirty talk from Rufus.

But at the same time, Weylen was able to catch the glistening, throbbing length of Riley jotting straight up from his prone position on his back. And Weylen was just as excited by it all.

Riley tossed his head to push the pillow away. "Dad... it feels weird... it ting-nnngh. Dad, I... it feels good," he admitted finally.

"That's my boy," Rufus remarked in a throaty encouragement. "You gonna come over for more doses of manhood?"

"Yeah," Riley agreed, hastily. "Dad, shit, this ain't wrong, is it?"

"No," Rufus assured just as hastily, thrusting harder, watching his son build.

"I'm gonna, I'm gonna lose- shiiiiiit."

Riley's ejaculation launched straight up so that it was hard to miss, settling on his belly and chest as his front orgasm matched the one going on deep within him.

"Ain't gay if I do it, Riley, it's in the family. Fuck, I'm gonna cream inside ya soon."

Riley could only watch in a haze of waning double orgasm as his father continued to finish running his thick cock through his son's interior.

Weylen had never touched his cock that hour, aside from a quick brush to undo a button. But in a rush of endorphins, he realized he was jizzing against the wall of Riley's father's house.

Rufus had more stamina and pacing, continuing to fuck away even as the second teen's orgasm waned, looking down at his trousers which were also quite marked with white wolf fluids, pasting over the rest of the material which itself darkened in wetness.

"YEAHHHH. Ohhh, FUCK." Rufus was not quiet in the least, unabashed in his activity. It only led Weylen to glance outside the porch, but no one was around. Thankfully. It wasn't quite dark yet. He'd been on the porch the whole time. Thankfully most of his body was below the windows to the outside.

Weylen heard Riley speak again. "Dad... it started to feel... it okay if I liked it?"

"You're supposed to like the business end of a dick," Rufus remarked. "Still best if I'm the only one who gives it to ya like that. Cleaner," the large kangaroo concluded brusquely.

Riley grunted.

"Besides," Rufus said with a grin, pulling himself out of his son and jutting a thumb at the window. "It's fun to watch, too. Ask that wolf friend of yours."

There was no doubt about it, either. Riley glanced at the window and saw Weylen, standing there, while his shorts were coated in his own jizz.