Their day in Adventure Bay started out as normal as any other...at least, for the PAW Patrol, it could best be described as 'normal'. They awoke from their slumber and spent the better half of the day, predominantly the morning and early afternoon, either playing or performing their duties...but when the day drifted further into the afternoon, the PAW Patrol was alerted to a person in need of rescue; specifically, Mayor Goodway, the governing representative of Adventure Bay. Naturally, the 6 brave anthropomorphic pups were on the case.

The issue was simple: Mayor Goodway had gone out onto the bay for one reason or another-- the actual semantics of the situation didn't matter. What did, however, was that the motor for her boat petered out as she was making her way across the boy, leaving her stranded out in the water with no way back to shore. It was there that the PAW Patrol came into play, and there was no better pup for the job than Zuma, whose speciality was water rescues. With a quick go-ahead from Ryder, Zuma was out in the water within minutes.

However, not all rescues go to plan, and it was an unfortunately common occurrence for the PAW Patrol members for things to go awry. Zuma made it out onto the water and towards Mayor Goodway without a hitch, and after a brief conversation that was intermingled with her tittering, relieved laughter, Zuma encouraged her to get on his hoverboat, which he frequently took out onto the water. It was Mayor Goodway's pet, Chickaletta, that proved to be the problem. The chicken was always somehow causing one issue or another, and that particular rescue was no exception, as was common in Adventure Bay; as Zuma was operating the hoverboat to hook it up to Mayor Goodway's craft so he could escort her back to shore, Chickaletta jumped from her seat inside her owner's purse and flapped at Zuma, blinding him and causing him to press the wrong controls on his hoverboat, kicking it into gear. Zuma was unable to get control of his hoverboat as it sped its way back to shore at a dangerous speed. He managed to swerve just before it hit the shore so that Mayor Goodway wouldn't be injured, but the underside of his vehicle connected with some rocks in the shallow parts of the water and tore the undercarriage asunder. Thankfully, however, everyone was safe.

With the aid of Ryder's coordination and Skye's aerial vehicle, the 'wreckage' of Zuma's hovercraft was taken back to The Lookout for repairs, which Rocky was in charge of. For a time, Zuma stood around with Ryder and spoke to Mayor Goodway before providing an essential debriefing at headquarters, at the very top of The Lookout. Once that was done, however, Ryder left Zuma to his own devices; the Brown Labrador felt a little guilty about getting Rocky to repair his boat, so he decided to pay him a visit-- one quick elevator ride down led him to the pup's workshop.

"Rocky, you down here?" Zuma called as he stepped out of the elevator, greeted to various metal tables lined with trash, recyclable materials and parts for vehicles, including panels of doors. The anthropomorphic pup, 5 years of age, reached up to ease his typical yellow helmet off of his head, setting it on a free space on a table nearby as he sheepishly wandered through the sea of parts. He didn't come into Rocky's workshop often, namely because he was a bit of a clean freak, and seeing how dirty it was made him just a little anxious. The cub adjusted himself in his orange jacket and pants, his back free of his pup pack, which he'd left upstairs. The boy tugged awkwardly at the collar around his neck, the hanging medal emblazoned with an anchor, the sign of his 'role' in the PAW Patrol, and he walked with a certain degree of apprehensiveness, peering around the corners as he walked.

Through the mess of parts and trash, Zuma spotted his hoverboat, eased up on one side through a thick metal jack. It was settled on the floor a step down from the other side of the workshop, with a large metal door on the far hand side that Zuma recalled led out around the back of the headquarters, aimed towards the bay-- if the smart pup had to guess, they must have towed it into the workshop when it had crashed onto the shore, and sure enough, Zuma spotted Rocky's alternative vehicle parked a short distance away, a thick chain trailing across the floor. A railing kept most of the two parts of the workshop separated, but Zuma rounded it to make his way down a pretty easy incline towards the floor below, where he spotted two grey-furred paws sticking out from beneath the damaged craft.

"Rocky?" Zuma spoke the cub's name again and from beneath the vehicle, he heard a yelp, causing the Labrador to jump. After a moment, and a clanging of metal against the concrete floor, the feet slid outwards along with the rest of the body, revealing Zuma's co-worker and friend. The grey and white-furred pup, 1 year Zuma's senior, rolled from the creeper board and got to his feet, and Zuma immediately noticed that Rocky was lacking his hat...and his pants. The 6-year-old bore only a set of green briefs, with yellow grim, and his typical sleeveless green jacket. The Labrador spotted the mixed-breed pup's pack nearby, leant against the wall, before his gaze fixed to Rocky again. A smirk crossed the 5-year-old's muzzle, and he suppressed a giggle.

"Rocky, why are you...not wearing pants?" Not that Zuma didn't mind, but he was curious to know. Rocky paused on the spot and then looked down at himself, wiggling his toes against the floor.

"Oh! Uh..." The pup began, clearly unabashed by his half-nakedness. "Some water pooled in the tank and when I opened it up, it fell out! So I, uh, took off my pants."

"Ooooh..." Zuma understood immediately; Rocky hated water, to the point of a phobia, so it was understandable why he wouldn't want to wear wet clothes. The two exchanged a long glance that wasn't really meaningful, before Rocky turned and crouched back down, getting back onto the creeper board. For a moment the pup's vision was obscured, and Zuma briefly took a moment to stare, admiring Rocky's features, before he sat down beside the damaged vehicle, keeping the other boy company. For a moment, the two of them sat in silence...well, Zuma did-- Rocky was predominantly focused on fixing the undercarriage of Zuma's boat.

"Oh, can you pass me the socket wrench?" Rocky asked from beneath the vehicle, and Zuma turned to look for it, reaching out across the floor. He wasn't an expert in tools, so he picked one at random and turned to hand it over, placing it in the other pup's outstretched hand. Rocky curled his fingers around the tool and brought it beneath the boat. For a moment, there is complete silence, before it was quickly followed by a giggle. Zuma watched as Rocky pushed himself back out from beneath the vehicle once more.

"This is a spanner, silly?" He grinned, still laid down, and Zuma looked briefly flustered, rubbing the back of his head.

"Sorry, Rocky...which one is it?" The Labrador turned his head to look, and he heard Rocky giggle again. He didn't want to get too embarrassed, so he picked up another at random and turned to hand that one over instead, but Rocky simply shook his head, stifling a laugh. Zuma could tell from the boy's expression that it was the wrong one and his face soured, if only a little-- if anything, he was simply...a little enamoured by Rocky's boyish grin. The two of them had something of a blossoming relationship, though they hadn't really done much about it so far.

Zuma leant down, and Rocky watched him with a quizzical expression as the Labrador's muzzle came closer to his own. After a moment, the 5-year-old pecked his senior on the cheek and Rocky grinned even wider, his tail wagging beneath his short anthro body. The grey-furred pup was a hard boy to read, but Zuma was sure he'd got him figured out...for the most part.

"Thanks for fixing up my boat for me," Zuma sheepishly smiled. "I should give you a reward, right?"

"A reward...?" Rocky blinked, tilting his head to the side. "But you're my friend! Why would I need something in return?"

"Just go along with it," Zuma insisted. "Besides, I, um...think we could do more than just kiss."

"...Okay!" Rocky seemed eager to go along with it, though it was hard to tell if he was doing it simply for Zuma's sake or if he was genuinely interested. The Labrador tried not to think too much about it and instead lowered his head, kissing against Rocky's cheek again. The giggle that escaped Rocky's lips in response was cute and endearing, and it encouraged the 5-year-old to travel a bit further down. The two boys were noticeably inexperienced and strictly pre-pubescent, but that didn't mean that Zuma wasn't quite...well, horny; after all, all of them were a lot wiser than their years, for the most part.

"Um, Zuma..." Rocky tried to awkwardly get Zuma's attention as the brown Labrador drifted lower, brushing his muzzle across the front of Rocky's green jacket, his hand plucking at the zipper close to the cub's neck. He didn't want to kiss the jacket considering that it was a little dirty, but he did slowly pull down that zipper, parting the garment to reveal the 6-year-old's grey-furred stomach beneath. When Zuma's head travelled as far as the boy's crotch, he felt Rocky's hand against his hand, half-holding and half-stopping him. The Labrador glanced up at him out the corner of his eye and paused, raising his head for a moment.

"What's the matter, Rocky?" Zuma asked with a frown, and Rocky visibly winced, gritting his teeth.

"Isn't it, like...dirty?" He asked tentatively, and Zuma glanced down to the pup's briefs. Sure enough, whilst there was a pretty evident bulge, both Zuma's eyes and his sensitive nose could pick up the clear indication of...something, an aroma he didn't have the courage to identify, but knew what it was. Zuma squirmed in his half-laid seat, nervously gulping, before he spoke.

"I-I mean, yeah, but...I like it." He mumbled the last three words, as if he were ashamed for thinking it. Truthfully, it was something he indulged in secret-- being a neat freak made him have something of a kink for dirtier things, especially when they were out of his control...but there was no way he was going to let Rocky know that. At his words, the mixed-breed cub relented and let Zuma do as he liked, and the Labrador hesitated for a moment before lowering his head down, his muzzle hovering mere inches from Rocky's bulging, clothed crotch before he pressed his lips down to it.

It wasn't quite damp, but there was a scent there, atop that twitching mound...Zuma's attentive canine nostrils-- not as sensitive as Chase's, for sure-- could pick up the scent of pee...faint, but there nonetheless. A shudder rolled through Zuma's body as the aroma, the cocktail of scents that made up Rocky's musk...he wasn't nearly as 'dirty' as the pup claimed to be; in fact, he was on the fine line between too much and too little. With a quiet sigh the Labrador opened his muzzle and stuck out his tongue, pressing it to the other boy's slightly pee-stained briefs, and the warmth and dampness of his tongue seeped through the fabric. Zuma could hear Rocky groan his approval, sheepish and faint yet distinctly aroused, and the mere thought turned him on.

"Z-Zuma, that, uh...feels nice!" Rocky sounded cheery, but stuttered a little, a clear indication of his arousal. Zuma slowly started to lap with his tongue, dragging down and up that bulge, enjoying the way it twitched under his tongue. There was no real taste nor twang to the briefs despite the scent, though Zuma wouldn't have necessarily minded-- regardless, all he could taste was the warm fabric itself, and as he dragged his tongue up to the waistband of Rocky's briefs, he felt the pup's hand on top of his brown-furred head, his digits curling against his fur. Zuma wasted no time in dipping his head further down again, running his mouth down the length of that cock until he reached the tiny plumpness of his friend's balls. He lingered there no longer than a handful of moments before moving back up to trail his tongue along the length of the cock once more. He couldn't get enough of it-- it wasn't even Rocky's quiet, innocent moans of pleasure or that twitching cock beneath his tongue that he enjoyed the most, but that faintly musky aroma that filled his nostrils and made his loins tingle.

Zuma enjoyed himself, but he could only continue it for so long. Even as he licked, he could tell that Rocky didn't want it to end either, but in Zuma's opinion, it was quite one-sided. After a few more moments of fervent nuzzling and licking, he raised himself up, meeting Rocky's gaze. The grey-furred pup half-scowled, half-grinned, visibly disappointed that he stopped, yet eagerly anticipating what came next. He watched as Zuma leant up and slid across Rocky's body, swinging a leg over so he was effectively straddling the older boy, his crotch pressed down into Rocky's one. Unlike the mixed-breed cub, Zuma was still wearing his pants, but that didn't mean Rocky couldn't feel the obvious bulge coming from the boy's loins, pressed down to Rocky's own fervently throbbing arousal.

"Do you like this, too?" Zuma asked tentatively, his hands planted firmly on Rocky's clothed front. He was aware that his palms were pressing against oily patches on the pup's vest, but he didn't care-- he could wash them later, and if anything, the dirtiness of it actually turned him on a bit. Rocky beamed up at Zuma, clearly content and happy, and his hands reached up to instinctively hold onto Zuma's hips, his fingers squeezing a bit. The 6-year-old feverishly nodded, his smile wide, and slowly the Labrador reached up to pull at the zipper of Rocky's vest, slowly parting it to reveal the pup's naked chest beneath, as grey as the rest of him. Zuma sank his hands into that open space and pressed his hands directly to Rocky's body. He was warm and inviting; Zuma couldn't stop himself from touching, and judging from the 6-year-old's grinning expression, he didn't seem to mind.

Zuma eventually lowered his hands further, withdrawing them from Rocky's body so he could tug his zipper down all the way, until the jacket parted completely to reveal Rocky's front...but in the end, that wasn't Zuma's goal. Instead, his hands drifted lower until they met with his own hips, curling them inwards until he reached the button of his pants. Rocky stared down with a particularly intense gaze as Zuma started to undress, but he only went so far as to pop the button and yank down the zipper-- enough for him to slip his trousers over his hips, that is. He did just that, briefly changing his straddling position and stretching his legs out so he could shimmy the pants down. With his own briefs visible, yellow in colour with black trim, Rocky's hands reaffirmed their position on the Labrador's hips and they roamed downwards, mostly following what felt good to him and what Zuma seemed to like. The 5-year-old kicked the trousers off his feet and tugged his legs back up again so he could sit back down.

It was there, at that moment, that Zuma became aware of just how close their cocks were. He and Rocky hadn't done anything like this before-- they've kissed, sure, and they've cuddled quite a lot, but they've never gotten this far. Zuma experimentally rolls his hips down and kneads his crotch against Rocky's own, and the 6-year-old curls his fingers against Zuma's boyish ass, squeezing with his digits and gently pushing up against the cub's crotch in turn. The two of them moaned, quiet and gentle, almost roughly at the same time, and Zuma was encouraged by Rocky's approving noises; he rolled his hips down against the pup's crotch as he slid his hands back up, at first putting them on Rocky's chest before quickly sliding them apart and pressing them on the concrete either side of him, leaning himself further down.

"T...That does feel good." Zuma sheepishly grinned and watched as Rocky lidded his gaze a little, his muzzle parted and his breathing slow and heavy. He flexed his fingers a little more against Zuma's hips and sighed as Zuma started in on a rhythm of gentle gyrations, his crotch slowly rubbing and smearing against Rocky's own slightly dirty briefs. The most pleasurable thing about it was the way their cocks so easily lined up in their underwear, the undersides of their lengths rubbing tenderly against one another in a way that satisfied them both, yet somehow left them wanting more.

Neither of them really had to say anything, or vocalise how they felt-- with it being their first time doing this sort of thing, both of them were a little clumsy and perhaps a little too into it, but they were purely following instinct and what felt good alone. Zuma took most of the lead, and Rocky was the kind of pup who just followed the younger boy's lead. The more that Zuma rolled his hips the more that Rocky seemed to enjoy it, and he soon began panting, closing his eyes and visibly relishing the feeling of their bulges rubbing together. Zuma's loins tingled with each fervent grind of his hips until his own gentle groans of pleasure became heavier and heavier. He slowly leant more and more forwards, until his muzzle was inches from Rocky's own-- it wasn't his intention to get so close, but his body was aching with the physical exertion of their sex, his hips eager for more but his muscles aching for rest. In the spur of the moment, Zuma pushed his head down, catching Rocky by surprise when his lips met with the older pup's own.

Rocky's eyes widened, but he didn't make any complaints-- in fact, he even leant into it and sighed quietly as the Labrador's muzzle pressed firmly, in the most innocent of kisses. This wasn't their first and wouldn't be the last either, but the two of them were too clumsy and inexperienced to do much else other than enjoy the feeling of their lips together. The kiss was enough to make their little tails wag, and Zuma continued to roll his hips, pressing down and quivering slightly at the tender feeling of pleasure that spread across his loins and up his spine. Rocky's own gentle huffs of delight were growing more intense, shifting into eager, pleasured whimpers as they rubbed and pressed together harder and harder. Neither of them would last much longer, that was for sure.

Suddenly, Zuma shuddered and pushed down, groaning hard against Rocky's lips, his nostrils filled with the scent of...well, the pup beneath him. He shifted his once gyrating movements into harsh and short little humps as the pleasure became too much to bear. The 5-year-old parted their kiss and gritted his teeth, arching his back and a retrained grunt escaped his young muzzle. Between them, his bulge twitched and throbbed, before the Labrador suddenly and abruptly relaxed, ecstasy washing over his system as he orgasmed. Beneath him, Rocky shifted and pushed up with his hips, half-huffing and half-grunting as his hands vaguely ran up Zuma's back and across his jacket. He looked flustered, but not quite finished as Zuma was, but the Labrador felt as if all his strength had left him; he flopped down onto the 6-year-old and the grey-furred pup instinctively wrapped his arms around him, giggling into his neck.

"C'mon Zuma, wake up!" Rocky laughed, grunting again as he squirmed beneath him, trying to cum in his own way. He eventually found the right spot to gyrate his hips and started to huff with greater intensity, strengthening his grip as he spread his legs apart, forcing Zuma further up, just a little. A few moments later, Rocky trembled and loosened significantly, sighing against the Labrador's neck as Zuma quietly hugged down against Rocky's body, breathing in his scent. He could feel Rocky's little twitching cock against his own, signifying his own climax; it was warm and vivid, and somehow incredibly alluring.

The two of them lay there, panting quietly, both basking in the warm feeling of their orgasm. Neither of them knew what to say...but ultimately, they didn't have to say anything. After a moment, Zuma rolled and slid himself off Rocky's body and flopped onto his back, revealing the visibly damp stains that covered the front of both their underwears. Whilst Rocky seemed content to be messy, Zuma couldn't help but feel like he needed a bath, or something similar. He turned his head to look at Rocky, and the other pup looked at him out the corner of his eye, a wide smile on his face. Before the Labrador could speak, however, a sound came from behind him, and to his side.

"Pups, report to the briefing room," Ryder's voice came through the intercom of both Zuma's pup-pack, and from Rocky's to the side. "We've got a BIG problem!"

The two boys exchanged a glance and their faces look flushed, before Zuma pulled himself into a sitting position. He looked down at his sticky briefs again and grimaced.

No time to change-- they had people to save!