Simba looked side to side, ears high, gauging the sounds of the night. He tried to keep in mind the hunting lessons his mother had taught him, but they were hard! It felt like the sound of his heart alone must be audible all the way back to the den.

But no, these were just the normal sounds of the African night, alive with the flutter and buzz of its many nocturnal lives. The pride was asleep, and he knew there was little chance of them rising before dawn. Nothing short of an elephant stampede through the actual cavern would rouse them.

Simba smiled to himself as he imagined that, ducking his head under the scrub brush that edged the pathways around Pride Rock, making his way towards the back of his home along a path mostly used by the cubs, because of its slim size. His nose twitched. He wasn’t the first to travel this path tonight.

The scent brought a wave of feelings with it, so strong that the cub stopped in his tracks for a moment, taking a series of deep breaths. He stole another glance over his shoulder.

Was he really going to do this?

Sure, the pride was deep asleep, but it really wasn’t unusual for someone to rise for a while to make water or to take a quick walk to help them fall back asleep. What if someone woke up and realized he was gone? What if they came looking for him? He really wasn’t supposed to be out of the cave at his hour, and he could get in trouble just for that. But if they discovered the real reason he was out…

Simba groaned and swung his tail nervously. Kings, what if Nala came looking for him? He peered into the night, taking in the world around him, awash in moonlight. He thought of his family, his pride, Nala…, and the visiting cub waiting for him. 

He had only met Malka a few times, and he had hated the other cub at first… He was arrogant and got way too cozy with Nala way too fast for the young prince’s comfort. But Simba had since learned that was mostly an act Malka put on. He was a lot like Simba, that way. Trying to make his way in a world that was often cruel to a young lion. Putting a bold face over his fear. 

Then they got to know each other better. They had gone through some things that brought them together and, since, they had become… well… More. He didn’t know what to call it. He still thought of Nala as his best friend, but Malka was different. Special in a way that he couldn’t quite put a label on. He shivered, thinking of the last time they had been alone together. The time when things started changing. The feeling of Malka’s muzzle between his legs…

The prince whined, realizing his body was remembering just as well, his shaft firming in his sheath. It was such an unexpected sensation, still, to have his body respond to something in his mind that way. But, then, it wasn’t just in his mind. It had been real.

The way they had kissed was real.

The way their bodies had pressed together was real.

The scent of Malka’s sheath and balls, and the way they had made him feel… 

It had all been real. 

And he wanted it again. That’s why he was awake at this Aiehu-cursed hour. It’s why he hadn’t slept even a tiny bit, waiting for the right moment to rise. The time they had discussed in whispered tones during the afternoon, giggling and teasing each other. Kissing when no one was looking. Touching each other in places and ways the pride would never approve of, until neither wanted to wait for the moon. 

“Come on. Be brave, Simba,” the cub scolded himself even as his claws scored nervously at the dirt beneath him. How could something he wanted so much scare him like this? It didn’t make sense! But the thoughts kept going. What if Malka wasn’t actually there? What if it was just an elaborate prank? What if, what if, what if…

“Ugh, the Makei are gonna eat me,” Simba cursed to himself, and stepped forward again, trying to hold his head high. Trying to be a prince. After all, Malka was just a cub. Simba had to set a good example!

He continued around the thin path, pressing himself to the wall of Pride Rock, until he neared his destination. He only knew because the trees growing below opened up a little in this spot. He knew up ahead, around a small bend, was a little enclave. Barely big enough for a few cubs to squeeze into together. Sometimes they used it to watch the stars on the rare nights their parents gave them permission to stay up. Usually special, meaningful days to the pride their shaman Rafiki would identify. They might sit there and watch stars fall from the sky, and tell each other stories about how shooting stars came to be, or look for the rare bright colored stars that Rafiki said were distant worlds.

“Simba? Is that you?” A whispered hiss of a voice came from the path, and Malka’s head popped out, dark ear tufts high. “You came! You really came!” the dark lion almost bounced down the path, throwing a one-armed hug around Simba’s neck.

“Heh, sure I came!” Simba laughed, nuzzling back, heart pounding at his friend’s enthusiasm. “I didn’t sleep at all. I just waited!”

“Me too,” Malka whispered, his ears turning in a leonine blush. “I got away just like you said. I did once around the cave and no one noticed. I even came over towards the royal cavern, but I got nervous. I wanted to go in and get you so bad!”

“It’s okay, you did great,” Simba grinned. He looked at Malka, his heart beating loud in his chest. “Really… really…,”

Simba leaned forward and their lips met. The two were no strangers to kissing at this point, but still something electric passed between them. A shared current of desire arcing through their bodies, as if their spirit suddenly needed to be in the other’s body. Their muzzles opened in tandem, tongues touching.

They remained that way for a long moment that felt eternal, until Simba thought his fur was doubtlessly fluffed to twice its usual height. Malka began to stroke at his neck, making small growling sounds, and Simba broke the kiss with a gasp.

“Alright, alright… C’mon, cub… You’re gonna throw us off the Rock!” Simba grinned and Malka blushed again, looking to the side and downwards. Simba turned his friend’s muzzle pack and licked his nose, eyes gleaming in the moonlight. “Let’s go somewhere we can really get carried away,” he whispers.

Malka gulped and nodded twice, twisting in place and heading back the way he had come. Simba followed, eyes trained under Malka’s tail, licking his lips. When had he started having feelings like this about such mundane things? He couldn’t understand it, but the sight of Malka’s balls, tailhole, and full sheath made his head feel fuzzy like Rafiki’s medicine. He walked closer, boldly nipping along Malka’s flank. Taking in the musky, male scent of his hindquarters.

“If you don’t quit that, I’m gonna fall over right here,” Malka giggled, tail swinging under Simba’s chin. 

“Maybe I wouldn’t mind,” Simba growled back, surprising himself. Malka made a sound Simba couldn’t interpret, and his stride hitched for one moment before he continued on to the small observatory cavern. 

The two cubs slid off the trail together and out of sight, sitting together and looking out into the moonlit world beneath. From this vantage point, they could see all the way to the distant mountains. More savannah than they were likely to ever patrol stretched out before them, as if it were just a pounce away. The moon sat low in the sky, shining down over them. Inside the cave, it might as well have been daylight. 

“This is all gonna be yours,” Malka breathed.

“Heh. Someday,” Simba shrugged. “Most of it, anyway. Dad hasn’t told me what parts yet. I don’t think all of this is the Pridelands. I can see the mountains, maybe it’s your pride’s!”

“Hah, yeah right!” Malka snorted. “My sense of direction is bad, but it’s not that bad. As soon as you get to the mountains, everyone knows it’s not our territory. We don’t have a big pride like yours, you know. Mom doesn’t even like me to go into the mountain passes on my own. When I visit, Zazu always picks me up with a lioness, and mom takes me through the pass herself.”

“Maybe it is the Pridelands, then,” Simba shrugged. “We’ll be neighbors!”

“How about that, huh?” Malka leaned over, nuzzling into Simba’s neck, and the prince felt his fur fluffing up again. “We’d be right next to each other. All the time.”

“Sounds pretty good, huh?” Simba turned and nuzzled back.   “Yeah… Pretty good…” Malka met his muzzle in another kiss and, this time, Simba made no move to slide his paws away when they brushed down his neck. The prince growled low in his throat, pushing back, his tongue exploring Malka’s taste. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about last time,” Malka mewled around the kiss, one paw sliding down Simba’s chest. 

“Me either,” Simba agreed. “I pawed off for a month remembering it.”

“Oh Stars. Me too,” Malka blushed again. “As soon as Zazu delivered the message I was invited back I… I couldn’t help myself. I did it right in the daytime. Mom almost caught me. It was such a mess.”

“Haha! That sounds… hot,” Simba grinned toothily. 

“Embarrassing, more like.”

“Hot,” Simba countered, his voice low. He pushed back on Malka. “Lay down. I wanna give you more to remember.”

“M-me? You’re the prince!” Malka gasped, eyes wide. “You gotta be first! That’s, like… like… the rules!”

“When I’m king, that’ll be the first thing to go,” Simba grinned and pawed at Malka’s legs, almost tipping him over. The dark cub giggled and rolled onto his back, covering his muzzle with both paws as Simba spread his hindlegs wide, exposing him to the moonlight.

“I’m the prince, I can have whatever I want, right?” Simba gave a cocky grin, stroking down Malka’s belly with a soft touch.

“Y-yeah,” Malka agreed.

“Watch me,” Simba dipped his head, taking Malka’s shaft into his muzzle in one careful gulp. The brown cub’s black eyes opened wide, sparkling in the moonlight, and he made a desperate, soundless little pawing gesture as if he were trying to swim.

Simba’s nose filled with Malka’s scent. It slid right into its place in his memory as if it had never left, and his muzzle flooded with tastes he had dreamed about day after day for a full moon. He had practiced in his mind, pawing himself and imagining different ways to pleasure his friend. They had only done this a few times. The first time was during Malka’s last visit. It had started as a joke between them. A dare. 

“You’ve… oh you’ve gotten better,” Malka huffed, biting his lower lip and putting a paw on Simba’s head. “How’d you get so much better?”

“I practiced in my head,” Simba murred around his muzzlefull of cock. “I figure I gotta get real good, if I’m gonna keep you from letting Nala do it instead.”

Malka made a sound halfway between a laugh and a groan, covering his eyes. It was an old joke between them. Their relationship had started with jealousy over Nala’s attention and neither had entirely let it go. Their first kiss was preceded by jokes that the other boy wanted it so bad because Nala wouldn’t let them kiss her. The first time they pawed each other, they joked they were just doing it because Nala was busy and didn’t want to be seen with their friend wandering around pathetically with his cock hanging out.

By the end of their last visit, the joke had changed without either boy saying anything. Teasing no longer precipitated their play. It just happened.

“I… I just want this. With you.” Malka whimpered, paw stroking along Simba’s ear, which perked in his paw. Simba looked up, meeting Malka’s gaze in mild surprise. They both definitely wanted Nala to do this! Or at least that’s what he had assumed…

Malka saw his confusion, but the boy just mrowled, looking back at Simba, ears flipping. Malka took a deep breath, then blurted “I want you to mate me after this, Simba!” Simba’s ears shot straight up and he paused halfway down Malka’s shaft, muzzle opening in surprise. 

“You… what?”

Malka’s ears were straight back, and he put one paw back over his nose.

“I want you to mate me,” he said again, voice barely audible even in the quiet of their small lair. “You know… Like you would Nala.”

Simba lifted his head, trying to process that. Malka continued hurriedly in the silence. 

“I thought about it a lot after last time. I mean… Kind of a lot.” He pawed at his own chestfur self-consciously. “At first I wasn’t sure ‘cause, I mean, I know we were kind of playing around… I guessed maybe you might not want to after all… But I was thinking about it and I don’t like anyone else more than you. So I told myself I’d tell you if I saw you again. No matter what.”

“What about Nala?” Simba asked, feeling relieved just to find his voice.

Malka shrugged, looking out the cave into the night. “I dunno. I like Nala.” He stared out then back to Simba at last. “I’m not asking you not to mate with her, if you want. I know that’s not my place. You’re a prince and all. I’m just saying… I want you to mate me. Too.”

“Don’t you want to mate with her? I mean… I thought…”

Malka smiled, ducking his muzzle down shyly into his chestfur. “I mean… I would. Sure. But only if you were okay with it. And, well… If I have to pick, I’d pick you.”

Simba sat, head spinning. He knew mating other males wasn’t that uncommon, really. At least for adults. He’d heard his dad talk about it, even. It wasn’t that, it was the idea of Malka choosing him over Nala that knocked him on his tail. They’d been fighting–for real or in jest–over her since the day they met! 

“I– I’m really sorry if I ruined everything,” Malka said in a soft, miserable voice. 

Simba looked up, then shook his head and stepped over Malka, nuzzling his friend with soft, affectionate chuffs. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he said, “I just needed a second to think. You’re so special to me, I don’t even know where to put it all in my heart. When you say things like all that… I gotta find room for it!” 

Malka made a relieved sound, half sob and half chuckle. “I practiced saying that to you over and over the entire trip here, you know,” he giggled. “It all sounded way better in my head, I promise.”

“It was perfect,” Simba giggled, sliding his paw down to his friend’s softening erection. Feeling it respond to his touch, hardening against his pawpads. 

“So…?” Malka looked up at him earnestly.

“I’d love to mate with you,” Simba chuffed, bumping his forehead to Malka’s. “We’ll figure it out. Somehow.”

“Really?” Malka’s ears perked.

“Yeah! Really!” Simba gave the cub his best confident grin. “We can still both go after Nala, too. Why not? It’s just fun, right?” Simba dropped his head and stroked Malka a few times, giving him a mischievous look. “Who knows, maybe she’s into it?” Malka laughed at that, giggling and covering his muzzle.

“She’ll be so jealous she’ll hop right under you!” 

“I’ll suck your cock and then next thing you know she’ll want a turn!”

Both boys laughed, tickled by the idea of their inverted rivalry getting under Nala’s fur.

When their laughter settled into titters, Simba leaned down and kissed Malka on the muzzle, enjoying the feeling of his friend’s surprise turning into relaxed acceptance, his paw sliding easily up and down Malka’s wetted shaft. 

“So… Can I make you cum first or what?” Simba chuffed.

Malka nodded twice, ears low and shy.

“Please,” he breathed.

—--------

“About time,” the prince teased, bumping Malka’s muzzle with his own. Malka giggled, then gasped as Simba took one step back and lowered his broad muzzle over the tip of Malka’s cock again. His touch was light, but to Malka it felt all-enveloping, as if all the anticipation in his body had been drawn to the surface of his skin all at once, tingling like sweat below his fur. Simba’s teeth caught on the cub’s young barbs, scraping them lightly until Malka made a high, keening sound that filled their small cave, and he clapped both paws over his muzzle.

“Don’t,” Simba grinned up at him, nibbling along the boy’s sheath. “No one will hear us, and I like hearing you. Go ahead and make noise. That was hot.”

“Mmmph, are you sure?” Malka whimpered, back arching, hindpaws kneading in the air as Simba suckled him back down. 

“Pahsitive” Simba mumbled around the cub’s cock. 

“But I can’t… I can’t… MMPPH!” Malka squealed again loudly, and had to push his paws onto the cave floor to keep from moving them to his mouth. “Stay quiet!” he finished. “It’s too good, Simba! Ahhhhh!”

“Gonna cum for me?” Simba growled with a smile, licking long over Malka’s shaft. 

“Oh Kings… Yes! MMmmmmffff! Simba, please I can’t….”

“Uh-uh. The prince says you gotta roar for everyone if you’re gonna feed him your cum. Are you up for it, Malka? Gonna let the pride hear how good another boy gets you off? Gonna let Nala hear?”

“Oooooh Simba,” Malka groaned, lifting his paw and putting it on the back of Simba’s head. “You… You….”

“Prince.”

“Jerk!”

Simba grinned at that and slid his muzzle up and down Malka’s shaft in long, smooth strokes, one paw teasing up the boy’s tail until the tips of his pawtoes brushed against Malka’s undertail. Sliding on the part just below his tailhole, where the tail hid a sensitive cluster of nerves. Malka’s eyes shot wide open.

“Ohhhhh Simba! That’s….!”  Simba chuffed deep in his throat, the rumbly sensation vibrating along Malka’s shaft. His paw crept closer, the fur brushing Malka’s ass. Teasing it.

“Simba, I’m gonna cum! rrrrARRRRRrr! I’m gonna cum in your muzzle, Simba. Ah! Ah, your muzzle is perfect! The best! I can’t… aaaRRRRRRRRRGHH!”

Malka’s body shuddered and contracted, his words cutting off into a long, wheezing gasp of a roar as he came so hard it squeezed all the breath from his body. He put both paws on Simba’s head, squeezing at his ears as if his life depended on it, kicking at the air like a drowning beast. When he could draw breath again, he gasped a high, almost girlish squeal that rang in the small cave.

Simba, meanwhile, pushed his muzzle deep into his friend’s fur. He had practiced this in his head, and was determined to get it right. He closed his muzzle tight over Malka’s sheath, tongue spread wide to cup the cub’s shaft as it began to leap. He took one deep breath, holding it, and suckled hard as a starving cub at its mother’s teat. His world became the scent of Malka’s groin, the sounds of his friend’s pleasure echoing around him, the buzz in his ears from holding his breath; and then, at last, the taste of Malka’s seed. It poured into his muzzle, harder than he had imagined. He almost choked immediately, but by luck most of the barrage was deflected against his tongue to coalesce and swirl around his sealed lips. The taste and flavor followed. Salty, musky, male, growing and evolving as the liquid gathered in his muzzle, a tide rising higher and higher until he wondered if it would explode from his muzzle all at once, like a broken dam.

But he succeeded. Malka lay back, limp, just as Simba was beginning to weigh the merits of hacking up the massive load in his muzzle versus passing out. Simba’s heart hammered. He had imagined something like this over and over, the last season, but knew deep down that he’d never expected it to go so perfectly. And now he was faced with the very escalation he had planned over and over fitting perfectly into his reality, and with that perfection came a wave of doubt. What if Malka was disgusted by him? What if he didn’t want to do more, now that he’d cum? What if, what if, what if…

Simba let his eyes lift, watching Malka laying there as if sleeping. But when Simba’s motions slowed, Malka’s eyes opened, and he smiled. His paws slid down Simba’s head a little, relaxing their grasp on his ears.

“My prince…”, Malka whispered. 

Simba’s heart fluttered a little. He wasn’t Malka’s prince. Not really. Malka’s pride held no political ties with the Pridelanders. But he knew Malka meant it, deep down, in a way that made politics and titles a petty afterthought. 

He had been born a prince. But Malka had chosen to call him his prince. And that meant more than anything to him, right now.

Without a second thought, Simba rose to his feet and lunged forward over Malka’s body, wrapping him into a full-body hug. He pushed his muzzle to the other boy’s, and it was Malka that pushed his lips open. A gush of still warm lion seed spilled over their tongues, their teeth, their chins. Malka’s paws wrapped around Simba as well, pulling him down on top of himself, making out as cum slid and splashed between them, swapping muzzles with each thrust of the boys’ tongues.

Simba was straddled awkwardly over his friend, legs spread wide to accommodate Malka in their hug. He realized how close they were when he felt Malka’s shaft twitching against his own. Still spilling seed into his bellyfur, and he ground down against his friend, gasping at the sensation of their cocks aligning against each other.

“I want to mate you,” Simba gasped, the words escaping without thought, followed by a blush that seemed to radiate from the center of his being.

“I want you to fuck me,” Malka growled back, his claws teasing through the fur of Simba’s back. The naughty word caught Simba by surprise, and he shivered. He had the sudden urge to look around and make sure no adults had heard, and he laughed a coughing chuff at the absurdity of it. Malka tugged at his ear, not seeming to mind at all.

“I want you to fuck me so good you never need to think about Nala under you again.” Simba sat up a little at that, taking in Malka’s expression. Determination, lust, and a vigor for life radiated from the boy with a power that took his breath away. 

Malka put a paw on Simba’s chest, as if sensing the warring thoughts and feelings swirling through his friend. “I wanna be with you whenever I can. Anytime you need it, you’ll have me. I wanna be your lion.” His claws slid out, cutting Simba off as he opened his mouth. “I know it can’t be. Not always. Not now, anyway. But can we pretend for tonight, Simba? I want to give it to you so well that when you do mate with the girls–and we know you will someday–well… You think of me.”

Simba let a slow smile spread over his muzzle, and he leaned down, kissing Malka’s muzzle again. Letting the scent and taste of Malka’s seed flow over his tongue, rebounding between their tongues. Malka murred softly into the kiss.

“That way, when I’m with my pride and imagining you back here doing your duty, I won’t be jealous. I’ll just be happy, imagining… us.” Malka smiled a little and bumped Simba’s nose with his own.

“I think we’re gonna get to do this a lot more times before ‘my duty’ takes over, you know,” Simba laughed.

“I hope so!” Malka grinned back, undisguised delight on his face.

Simba stepped back, looking out at the bright moon hanging high in the sky. In that moment, it seemed so far away, just like his future as king of the Pridelands. Almost fantasy, but not. It was out there, real and waiting. A chapter of life he couldn’t even imagine right now and, though a part of him yearned daily to be the king, he found he didn’t really want to imagine it. He just wanted this, right now. Whatever was happening in this little cave, with Malka. That would be enough.

He turned back and put his paw on Malka’s chest.

“No girl’s ever gonna take your place, Malka,” he said solemnly. “Not Nala, not nobody. Okay? I want you to be my lion too. I’m gonna think about you always and forever, whether I’m mating or not. Whether I’m king or not. Got it?” 

Malka’s ears sat up so high they quivered, and he put his paws on Simba’s.

“Got it,” he nodded.

“Besides, I’m not the only one who’s gonna mate girls sometimes!” Simba laughed, pushing on Malka playfully. “You’re gonna mate plenty. You’re a stud!”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Malka blushed a little at that then looked up, his eyes a little hooded. “But I know they can’t do what you’re gonna do with me,” he purred.

Simba’s breath caught, but he nuzzled in tight, his lips brushing against Malka’s. Their whiskers intertwined. “What am I going to do with you?” he growled softly.

Malka tensed, pushing back against Simba’s muzzle, their breath hot between their lips. He lifted a hindpaw, sliding it between Simba’s legs and feeling how hard the prince was. He knew he was just as hard, even after just cumming.

“You’re gonna mount me,” Malka said in a breath that barely held words. He pushed again, his pawtoes spreading around Simba’s shaft. Stroking along it. “You’re gonna put this inside me.”

“Am I?” Simba murred, pushing himself against Malka’s paw. The other boy nodded slowly. 

“Mm-hmm”, he answered, his lips parting for Simba’s tongue to explore. Simba huffed and lifted his own leg, kicking Malka’s aside. The two boys fell together, feeling their balls, sheaths, and cocks sliding against one another as they pulled each other tight in a carnal embrace.

Malka put his paws around Simba, pulling him down tighter and moaning a little. “You’re gonna tryta breed me,” Malka whimpered. “Pin me down and give me all the royal seed that’s supposed to be for the lionesses.”

“It’s yours tonight, Malka,” Simba growled, nibbling up his friend’s neck.

“You’re… really hard!” Malka gasped. He could feel Simba’s shaft slipping against his own and into his bellyfur, leaving a slick trail there. 

“‘Cause I really wanna fuck you,” Simba hissed.

“Do it,” Malka growled back. “Please!”

Simba broke their muzzling kiss and laughed. “I wanna too, but I think we gotta get you ready first. I’ve heard it's as hard for boys as for girls out of season, and you know it’s a crime to even try that, unless the lioness wants it.

“Well…” Malka’s ears flipped up and down in embarrassment. “I did practice. At home. Some. I think I’m pretty ready.” 

“How’d you do that?” Simba asked, cocking his head.

“Well, I just, you know…” Malka lifted a paw, suckling one pawtoe into his mouth, while looking at Simba. His whole face was radiating embarrassment, but he spread his legs while Simba stepped back and watched. “Kind like this…” he said softly after had suckled his pawtoe for a while. The cub slid his paw down under his creamy orange balls, pushing it up against his own tailpucker. He gasped softly, and then sighed as his pawtoe slipped inside himself. “Ohh!”

“Whooooaaaa…” Simba ducked his head to look closer. “You did that so easy! What’s it feel like?”

“It feels… mmm… really good,” Malka said, ears still low in a blush. “But it didn’t feel… rrr… as good at first. I had to do it a bunch of times before it would go in like this. At first it felt kinda like I had to poop all the time, but once I got used to it I… Well… I started imagining you doing it and…” Malka’s paw began to move up and down, pushing in deeper then pulling nearly out, Simba watching in amazement as his friend’s tailhole expanded and stretched before his eyes. He could see Malka’s cock twitching with the movements, the tip glistening with precum. It was obvious the cub was enjoying it. 

“I can… Can even do two pawtoes… If I try hard and get really wet,” Malka said.

“Wet like this?” Simba murred, pushing his muzzle to Malka’s paw. Licking around it liberally. Nipping at each pawtoe in passing, then sliding his tongue all around the pawtoe inside Malka’s ass. 

“OHH! Oh my stars!” Malka gasped, kicking and sitting half up. “Oh that feels so good!”

“Mrrr!” Simba commented, pushing his tongue firmly over Malka’s rump from tail all the way up underneath his balls. 

“Oh, I can feel it… I can definitely… OHhhh!”

Simba watched in amazement as a second pawtoe pushed, beginning to slip into the boy’s stretched tailhole. Exposing even more for him to lick at as it went. The pure taste of Malka’s body flowed over his tongue, musky and sweaty.

“I gotta stop, Simba!” Malka moaned. “I gotta stop, or I’m gonna cum again!”

Simba looked up around his friend’s paw, an eager mischievous grin on his muzzle. “Do it, honeytree,” he murred, trying out the leonine term of endearment. “Don’t stop. Think of me on top of you.” His muzzle returned to Malka’s rump, licking and lapping. Finding the gaps between Malka’s pawtoes to tease the very rim of the other boy’s insides.

“S-s-simba!” Malka moaned. He lifted his legs high, holding onto one as his paw moved back and forth within himself. “Oh fuuuuuuuuck. Ahhhhhh!”

Simba could feel Malka's tailhole clamped down on his fingers. Could feel his rump pulsating on his tongue as the boy came for him without so much as touching his cock. He lifted his head to watch, grinning gleefully as Malka’s cock twitched and spurted a second stream of lion cum over the boy’s exposed belly.

“Mmmm, yeah you’re a stud alright,” Simba murred, dipping his muzzle to his friend’s cock and licking from tip to tummy, lapping up Malka’s mess. “That’s two right in a row! You’re gonna have litters coming out your ears when the girls notice.” 

“Oh Kings,” Malka whined, leaning back as his orgasm stopped, finally pulling his fingers out of his rump. He was breathing heavily, barely aware enough to stroke a paw over Simba’s head.  Simba giggled and nuzzled up from Malka’s belly to lick his chin.

“Still want more?” he winked.

Malka opened one eye and grinned. “From you? ‘Till Kilamanjaro crumbles,” he murred, licking back at Simba’s nose.

Simba bumped Malka’s muzzle with his and stepped back. “Well you’re definitely ready. Wow,” he nuzzled at Malka’s tailhole, which was gaping open. “I can see inside a little, even!”

“Is… is it nasty?” Malka groaned, still a bit dazed.

“No, it’s kinda cool,” Simba said, making Malka jump as he pushed his tongue against the insides. “Ah! Ohhhh that feels… Good and weird. I don’t think I’m ready for more of that yet!”

Simba grinned and stepped back, watching Malka roll himself over with the effort of a waking hippo. “Worn out?” he teased.

“Juuuuust a little,” Malka admitted with a smile. “But I’m not done yet. I’m not done till you are! And you’re…. Very not done,” he gestured his nose between Simba’s legs, and the prince lifted one to look back on himself. He’d rarely seen himself so far out of his sheath.

“Whoa… Am I growing or was it always this big?” he commented.

“Always was,” Malka giggled. “You just didn’t notice. Imagine once you grow up!”

“My dad’s is huge,” Simba noted. “He’s bigger than me when he’s barely out of his sheath. Imagine when he’s really hard.” Simba made a face. “I don’t know if that’s sexy or disturbing, actually.”

“I’d rather think about you for now,” Malka winked.

“You’re not gonna imagine my dad instead?” Simba teased, and Malka laughed. 

“He is amazing,” Malka admitted. “But I dunno. I guess I’m a one lion kind of guy.”

Simba lowered his leg and walked over to nuzzle under Malka’s chin. The moon had risen higher, and her light washed over them in a soft brilliant glow. 

“C’mere,” Malka whispered at last, walking to the edge of the play den. Simba followed, looking out over Africa in the night.

“All this is gonna be yours,” Malka reminded him.

“Mhmm,” Simba murred non-commentally, nuzzling his friend’s neck instead. 

“All of this,” Malka repeated, lowering himself to his belly over the threshold. Simba opened his eyes, heart beating hard as Malka lowered himself, lifting his tail aside and raising his rump like a lioness in heat. The boy’s eyes, usually so dark they seemed like voids, glinted in the moonlight with hints of opalescent, scintillating colors and patterns. Hints of greens and blues and oranges all together, invisible in any other light. He lay with his body half out on the path, in the open night air. 

Simba looked around the corner. With his eyes so well adjusted to the night, and the moon now so high, he could see almost all the way back down the trail to the Pride Rock entrance. He looked back at Malka, who just blinked, waiting. Simba smiled and leaned down, rubbing his whiskers through his friend’s. 

“I’d like it here,” Malka said softly. “I don’t mind if others see. I wanna be yours. I want them to know.”

“Okay,” Simba said simply. Consequences were the farthest thing from his mind as he took in the sight of his friend–his boyfriend, he suddenly realized–waiting for him.

Simba stepped over Malka with equal eagerness and care, and a shudder ran from his nose to tail, as if Malka’s fur was attracting his own. Tingles ran through his body, and he felt Malka shifting beneath him, adjusting to fill the space between his legs. 

“Oh, Malka,” Simba breathed into the open night. He lowered himself, hugging his friend’s body to his own. Pushing his hips against Malka’s until he felt them firm against the other boy’s. Feel his lifted tail against his hips, and the firm warmth of Malka’s undertail. His cock slid over Malka’s balls, pushing up and coming to rest along the boy’s tail, barbs running over his still-wet puckerflesh.

Simba took in a deep breath, the scent colored with the evening wind and the anxious, heady need in Malka’s sweat. He pushed his nose along Malka’s back, from shoulder blades up to the loose fur on his nape, tasting and scenting. 

“Simba…” Malka breathed. 

At that, Simba readjusted himself and felt as his tip found Malka’s tailhole, lodging against it. Simba’s teeth found Malka’s flesh, grabbing his nape. He didn’t know what made him do it, but it felt so right that a shudder ran through his whole body. Malka made a wordless sound that washed over Simba like an aphrodisiac, and before he even though of what he was doing, he pushed forward and entered his friend for the first time.

They lay together for what felt like a whole night. Pushed together. Connected. Breathing in sync, every movement like choreography of a dance they were created to perform. Each feeling, hearing, the beating of the other’s heart like it was their own. 

Where one stopped and the other began became a mystery neither had any wish to solve.

When one of them moved, the other did as well. Neither would ever remember the individual actions. Perhaps Malka leaned back against Simba. Perhaps Simba adjusted his weight. It didn’t matter. To the two cubs, they were one. All either knew was that when the long moment passed, they found each other in eager, pleasurable motion as their dance became one of vigor. 

The two breathed loudly into the cool evening, each experiencing brand new sensations and pleasures. Simba’s forelegs held tight around Malka’s body, pushing himself needfully and deep into his friend. Malka felt his rump rising and falling, tiny motions he wasn’t even controlling, but somehow timed perfectly to Simba’s increasing thrusts, pulling the prince’s shaft back and forth within himself. 

Small sounds from the two began to join the night symphony. First small mewls, then groans, then gasps; each more eloquent than words. Praise and thanks and need all went unspoken and understood. 

“I-I’m going to…” Were the first words, ringing out of the cave with startling clarity, though neither felt surprised. It felt like part of the choir. Part of the backing to their dance that had always been and always must be.

“Please,” Malka gasped, lifting his head minutely to press under Simba’s chin. 

“I love you, Malka.”

“I love you, Simba.” The words joined the tapestry of sound woven around the pair, elevating their senses. Signaling the crescendo. 

The sounds that followed were wordless cries of joy, echoing over the plains below. Becoming part of the night. Simba’s gasps and cries rose and fell as his instincts told him to roar his claim. In his heart, the boy roared such that the moon could hear, and that was what Malka always remembered afterwards. 

He roared back: “Yes!”, though he somehow knew afterwards that he never actually spoke the words. The cub pushed back, feeling Simba’s claws pushing and scrabbling on the rock floor as he came like never before. Held himself in place and let Simba gasp and claw and tug and push, wanting every bit of the Prince’s energy against and within. He called his pleasure out with Simba, roaring his joy for all to hear.

For a long, long while, the two were one again. Time slowed, the night paused in place, and the universe found its center.

Time began again with a small exhale of breath, and Simba’s body relaxing over Malka’s. Resting on him like deadweight, until Malka rolled to the side and Simba tumbled next to him, wrapping a paw around his partner. 

Malka made a small cry as Simba’s cock pulled from within him, but that too felt like part of the dance. One last perfect thing. The two lay together, bodies entwined in the moonlight, enshrouded in each other’s heat. Feeling each other breathing in labored tandem. 

“I love you, Simba,” Malka whispered.

“I love you,” Simba breathed back.

The two boys lay like that, drifting together into a peaceful sleep like they had never known. The night continued around them, but they knew only each other and so, all their needs, desires, and hopes fulfilled, they slept.