“Any other time and I’d be happy to, Isaac,” Lucian says, spinning his chair to face him. “But you know I stream on weekends.”


“I can’t control that my mother’s birthday is tomorrow.” Isaac advances, clearly enjoying the opportunity to look down at Lucian. “Canceling one stream won’t kill you.”


“No, but I’m really starting to take off. Can we do it earlier in the day?”


“My entire family’s going. We’re not rescheduling just so you can stream.”


“Well, how about I just meet your family on a different day? Like on a holiday.”


“That would be months from now.” Isaac hops onto Lucian’s lap, hanging off his neck. “How about you go tomorrow, and I'll let you carry me out of here, then rut me in another park, or movie theater, or whatever. You’ve been aching to scratch that exhibitionist itch again, haven’t you?”


“I have, but my stream starts in five–”


“Really? Fine, whatever.” Isaac springs out of Lucian’s lap, rolling the chair a couple feet. “I’ll just go without you!” He storms out of their bedroom, slamming the door shut, then also slamming the front door of the apartment.


Should he chase after him? Delaying today’s stream wouldn’t be a big deal, but maybe he should let him cool off. Besides, he has no idea what he would say. He doesn’t see why meeting his family is important, other than it’s the normal progression of relationships. His streaming is more important than checking something off a list, right?


He rolls his chair back to his desk, and sets everything up for his stream. When he goes live, Isaac is one of the first to join. He greets him by his username, but receives no response. He chooses to believe it’s because it’s a hassle to type on his phone. 


Halfway through the stream, a familiar flutter distracts him from his game. He smacks it, making sure it doesn’t cross into the camera’s view, which is enough time for him to die in the game. He says that a book nearly fell off a cock-eyed shelf–an excuse he uses so often that fans have sent him assemblable shelves to his PO box. 


It isn’t until the stream is over that he reads it. Heavens. Sometimes I think I need to enroll Lucian in Livestreamers Anonymous. I run off and he just streams. Oh, and here we go, he got another one of those letters. I hate when he reads those things. He should just burn them all. They make me feel–


He tosses the paper away, despite desperately wanting to continue. He thought the letters have been helping their relationship, since he can address issues Isaac is having before they can fester. But now he’ll have to navigate without them. How? He supposes he could give in and cancel tomorrow’s stream, but there’s a page filled with potentially more problems. If he reads it and talks to him about it, he’d know that he read that letter, and be mad at him. 


Figuring there’s only one other way to find out what’s on the letter, he texts Isaac he wants to talk. He responds that he’ll be back “soon.” What a useless word. That could either mean ten minutes, or ten hours. Well, he’ll have to come back to sleep. He can’t afford a hotel, and even if he finds a bus back to his city, he no longer has an apartment there. But maybe he could crash with his parents? Wherever they are.


The rising energy to fix things has to go somewhere. He jumps out of his chair and onto the floor, then starts doing push ups. Even as his arms tire, his energy remains. He shoots up and pads from the bedroom, to the living room, and to the kitchen. He considers cooking something, but it might be cold by the time Isaac is back. So he paces back and forth, rehearsing conversations in his head.


Thirty minutes later, he realizes it’s not helping. He collapses onto his bed and tries to think about other things: comments viewers said in chat, stuff he needs from the store, laundry, etcetera. When he runs out of things, he focuses on his breathing. He succeeds in relaxing himself more than he intends, and falls asleep.








*






For the first time in weeks, Lucian wakes without the warmth of another body against him. He finds comfort in Isaac’s smoky scent that has been ingrained in the room. The extent he hasn’t realized until now. He presses his nose into the sheets, but the scent weakens. Sniffing around, he concludes that the source is behind him, despite this being the side of the bed Isaac sleeps on.


He flips over to discover his partner curled up, using his long, fluffy tail as a pillow. Lucian never would have considered him returning and not cuddling up with him. Choosing to believe it’s because he was sleeping in an awkward position, he snuggles with him. He lays his head on the tip of that plush tail, right above Isaac’s head. Their orange fur blends together into a ball of fluff. 


Before he falls back to sleep, Isaac stirs. He tries to retract his tail, but it doesn’t budge. “Hey, get off.” He pushes on Lucian’s snout with little success. “I need to use the bathroom.”


“Comfy.”


“Okay, fine.” Isaac relaxes, slotting his muzzle under Lucian’s. “What’d the letter say?”


“Didn’t read past the part where you said you hate them.”


“Good. Are you still not going to the party today?”

“I could. I just don’t see what the big deal is.”


Isaac flops onto his other side to meet eyes, his tail still trapped. “I just want you to know a different side to me, and show you off to the people I love. Maybe you could even make friends with one of them; that would be cool.”


It takes Lucian a while to understand the words, like he’s deciphering the practices of a culture he knows nothing about. “I wouldn’t have ever considered that you simply love your family. I’ve cut mine off, so it seems strange to me. Of course I’ll go if it means that much to you.”


“Good. Now would you please…” Isaac tries once more to tug his tail free. 

Lucian lets his tail go, but before Isaac gets away, he wraps an arm around him. “One last thing, do you really hate the letters?”

“No. They got us together after all. This is why I hate you reading the new ones. Any passing thought gets taken seriously. It’s suffocating, having to watch what I think.”

“Sorry.” Lucian’s ears flatten. “Every time one appears, I know there’s some kind of issue, and I just want to fix it.”


“I get that.” Isaac scritches Lucian’s ears until they raise. “But can you trust me to come to you when I’ve thought it through?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Every time you read one without me saying it’s okay, I want you to reveal something extremely embarrassing about yourself. Give me one right now.”

One particular thing jumps to mind, but that’s the last thing Lucian will confess. “But you just made the rule.”

“You’ve pillaged my thoughts for how long again? A year? It’s only fair.”

“I’m sorry, okay? Just let it go.” Lucian flips onto his stomach, burying his face in the bed. Why can’t he think of anything else? Like some stupid thing he did as a cub? 


“Ooooh. Never seen you like this. Spit it out.”


Without raising his head, Lucian responds, “Promise you won’t get weird about it?”

“Promise.”

So he doesn’t have to raise his voice, Lucian lays his muzzle facing the headboard. “You know how I’m really into scents and stuff? Well, a lot of things spread scent, but one thing does it the best, you know?” He flicks his eyes over to Isaac, who nods.

“Why didn’t you say this when we were talking about our kinks?”

“People call me gross just for bringing it up.”

“I’ll admit it’s unappealing, but I’m willing to try doing it on you.”


“You’re sure? You don’t have to.”

“You let me try the wax thing.” Isaac has to uncross his legs to take his briefs off, the only clothes he wore. “It’s only fair.”

“Alright!” Lucian rolls onto his back and strips as fast as he can. 


The moment he finishes, Isaac climbs atop him, holding his own sheath. “So I just do it?”

“Don’t try to, just relax.”


“Okay.” Isaac closes his eyes and breathes deeply.

After a few seconds, Lucian caresses Isaac’s thighs. “Does this help?”

“Kinda. Oh, it’s happening.” Golden drops dribble from his protruding tip onto Lucian’s sheath. The warmth and yellow spread through the orange fur. Isaac sighs relievedly as the dripping turns into a proper stream, soaking Lucian’s sheath and strengthening up his torso. Lucian takes over aiming as it almost strays off him. The sheets are beyond help with inevitable splatter, but he hopes to save the mattress. Once his fur is drenched and his scent is lost under the acridity, he arcs the piss up to his neck, then his mouth. He only gets a little before the stream weakens down his form. He resists spitting out the bitter, salty liquid, and swallows. While unpleasant, accepting the mark inside and out makes him shudder. He sits up, placing the shaft on his snout and smearing the last of his piss on his nose.


Opening his eyes, Isaac says, “Wow, that was,” he wrinkles his nose, “something.” He reaches toward the wet wolfhood, but hesitates to touch it. “Usually it takes a bit longer to get your knot out.”


Lucian nods, struggling to form words when every breath is full of the stinging scent of piss. His own scent is undetectable, except for the musk of his leaking cock.

“Hand me the lube, Wolfy,” Isaac commands.

Lucian fumbles with the headboard cabinet behind him, and retrieves the bottle. After squirting some in Isaac’s outstretched paw, he waits with bated breath for that paw to reach its destination. He prefers to top so his musk will compete less with the mark, but knows he’s not the one making decisions this time. His dom’s paw nears his own semi-erection, then passes it, fumbling with his backside. Lucian wants to help, but he can’t reach any better, so he slathers his cock and discards the bottle. The vanilla scent distracts from the heady piss, urging him to sheathe himself immediately. 


“Okay,” Isaac says as he takes his paw from behind himself and adjusts his position. “Line it up. And remember, no thrusting till I say it’s okay.”


Lucian hastily obeys. He holds himself against that wrinkle of flesh, until it spreads over his tip. They share a gasp, the taper easing the penetration. Isaac pauses where the thickness increases. Lucian’s instincts go wild with a tight hole to bury his knot being only a thrust away. His fear of hurting and disobeying his dom holds him back. He focuses on the warmth, which reminds him of the piss that sprayed on his shaft. That thought, and the pervading scent of it, has him shooting pre into Isaac, slickening his insides even more.


As Isaac resumes, the tingling pleasure builds as his knot gets closer and closer to finding its home. But Isaac stills right before reaching his knot. Lucian whines. Resisting its swelling is already a challenge, and there’s no way he could force it into someone this small, even partially inflated.


While Isaac rises up the shaft, he says, “If you think you deserve a tie, you’ll need to show me how good you are.”


“But I am being g–Nevermind, I see.” Lucian reaches for the half-erection bobbing in front him. He would usually be at full-mast by now. A thumb teasing the tip fixes that, as well as rolling his balls around in the sac. 


Isaac pauses with only the tip inside him, then descends once more, matching the pace of the paw stroking him. Each time, he stops before the knot can enter. Lucian’s instincts will not accept this. He won’t hurt him, and he knows Isaac will love it once he feels that wonderful stretching. He’ll be a good boy by giving his dom what he wants before he has to ask.


When he thrusts, his knot finds its warm haven. But before it locks inside, Isaac raises his hips, glaring down at him. “That was very naughty, Wolfy.” He presses Lucian’s hips back down and holds them there. “No more fucking till you prove you’re still a good boy.”


“I am! I am! I just got carried away.” Lucian resumes stroking the thick shaft before him, adding twists of his wrist to vary the sensation, and a thumb teasing over the tip. Pre quickly coats the length, creating a nice wet sound. Especially as Isaac humps into his paw, which bounces the cock inside him around. Cradling the swinging balls, Lucian squeezes lightly. Isaac cries out, trembling, and on the verge of falling backwards. Lucian stabilizes him with an arm, while the dick in his paw throbs. Angling it to his face, he closes his eyes, and accepts the seed across his muzzle. The musk is almost as strong as the piss. Unlike other scents, it is a welcome addition, because they are both distinctly Isaac, both his mark. A particularly powerful jet seeps through his lips. The slightly sweet, musky flavor is far tastier. The rest of the load dribbles onto his torso and his paw. 


He thinks to lick it off, but he can’t enjoy himself too much. Combined with the clenching on his shaft, his knot threatens to swell, ending any chance at tying. He caresses up and down Isaac’s back until he looks down at him, then puts on his best puppy dog eyes.


“Not till you get me hard again. Then I’ll know for sure you’re a good boy.” His shaft has already shrunk into his sheath. Pulling it back, Lucian fits the flaccid length into his paw. He massages the tip in his palm, which he has learned is the most sensitive area for red pandas. The length quickly grows and pokes out of the other end of his paw. “Good Wolfy. Now thrust for me.”


“Gladly!” Lucian’s paws travel to Isaac’s hips then tugs them down in time with his own. Finally, warm walls hug his knot, and it swells. Heartbeat by heartbeat, his knot spreads the tunnel wider, making the hug tighter and tighter.

“Holy fuck! I always forget just how massive it is.” Isaac tosses his head back, stroking himself. “That doesn’t mean you can stop thrusting, Wolfy.”


To force himself deeper inside, Lucian has to use all of his strength in his arms and hips. His lover jerks himself off faster, moaning louder after each centimeter of progress. They reach a crescendo when the knot reaches as deep as it can, and again, Isaac almost falls backwards. Lucian encourages him to collapse forwards instead, his dick pulsating between them. Lucian’s coat is so soaked that he doesn’t feel the spurting on his fur; only smells the magnifying musk of it.


As Isaac continues coming, he rhythmically clamps down on the wolfhood. That throws Lucian into a world of pure ecstasy, and he pops like a cork, erupting into his lover. His knot keeps his seed locked inside as he fills deeper and deeper recesses. Even its scent can’t escape, which leaves only Isaac’s piss and cum. The marks blend together into an intoxicating, acrid musk. He tastes it when he breathes through his mouth, making him pant feverishly. 


Isaac’s walls relax, and the cock inside him slows its pumping without the stimulation. He tries to rise, but soon gives up and rests in the embrace. Lucian’s orgasm lingers, his lover’s tunnel tight regardless of how much he relaxes. The cozy weight atop him, and the evidence of his pleasure in his fur, helps him float longer as well. It’s rare for Isaac to come twice, since he’s the type to pass out shortly after. Him enjoying this sexual exploration as much as Lucian makes him feel silly for keeping his kink a secret.


“Are you almost done, Lucian? I wanna wash off.”


“Not in the slightest. You know how long it takes. What’s the rush?”

“I’m not sure how much longer I can stand the smell.” Isaac attempts to wiggle out of the embrace again. “Especially this close to it.”


“Sorry.” Lucian lets go of his partner, allowing him to sit up as much as he can while tied. “You don’t like it?”

“Not really. Seeing you get excited got me excited, but the smell kept taking me out of it.”

“I see.” This was some of the best sex they’ve ever had, and there will never be a repeat. Yet what brings the ache in his breast is that he didn’t notice Isaac’s displeasure. How could he be so out of tune with him?


Once his strength has mostly returned, Lucian awkwardly shuffles to the end of the bed with Isaac still tied to him. He stands, holding him as far out as possible, and says, “Let’s take a shower, a real one.”