Nothing was ever truly peaceful in Hawaii, Reuben thought, not even when there were peace talks in progress. You’d think that deciding to give up the hunt for over 600 illegal genetic experiments would be an event worthy of a celebration, even a feast, but the morning had brought nothing but frustration. Since 6 a.m. Hamsterviel had been transferring calls between the Gantu's ship and Jumba’s newest secret laboratory while growing more and more agitated with every rejected offer. Not that he wasn’t a pain to deal with on a good day, but when he was agitated he was agitated.

	“This is all your fault, fish face!” Hamsterviel seethed. “If you had collected intelligence in a way that was intelligent, we would be making progress.”

	“Don’t yell at me,” Gantu shot back, stomping his way to the monitor where he jabbed an accusing finger in Hamsterviel's digitized face. “I’ve been doing everything I can, and we were supposed to be catching experiments. That was never part of my assignment.”

	That only made Hamsterviel angrier, and as Gantu thundered away again Reuben had to lunge to catch his jar of peanut butter before it toppled off the armrest to its untimely demise. He set it down with a sigh and rubbed his aching head, spinning his chair away from the morning's chaos.

	Things were actually less peaceful during peace talks, if anything – more like temper tantrum talks. Battle of the egos and war of the loud mouths. But he couldn’t blame them, especially not Gantu. With the kind of offers Hamsterviel was making things were going to go on for a long time yet. 

	“All I asked was for them to pay a respectable tribute of six measly human slaves a week,” Hamsterviel said. “A small price to pay for such a enormously beneficial alliance, no?”

	“I, uh…” Gantu hesitated.

	“Well?”

	“Yes! Yes, they should be grateful for the opportunity. Why, the nerve of the abomination and his Earthling friends.”

	“So… ?”

	“So?”

	“So go and make them grateful!” Hamsterviel shouted, his face contorted with rage. He slammed his fist down on his terminal, and the screen went dark.

	Reuben’s ears were still ringing when Gantu went to turn off the monitor. The last thing anyone wanted after arguing back and forth was to talk to each other, and after a moment’s hesitation he turned around.

	Oh, boy, here we go… Reuben thought.

	“You,” Gantu redirected Hamsterviel’s wrath with expert efficiency. “When was the last time you did any work around here? Go talk to the abomination. A token effort might at least get Hamsterviel off our backs.”

	“You want me to bring flowers or something?”

	“Do what you like. I have no time for your games today. I have to sit here and evaluate my life choices.” 

	“Okay,” Reuben said, slipping out of his chair and onto the floor with a thump. “You stay here and marinate in a rich misery sauce, and I’ll go.”

	The peanut butter was stashed safely away, and Reuben headed towards the door with Gantu still mumbling to himself.

	“Just go! Don’t make me say it a – what?” Gantu scratched his head as he looked around the empty room. "And bring ingredients for egg salad on your way back! I'm tired of salami."

	Yeah, yeah, Reuben mentally waved it off. What a picky eater.

	The summer air cleared his head of all the pent-up negativity as he walked. With the birds singing and the orchids turned upwards into the sun, it was hard to imagine things would go wrong for him - whatever it was he was trying to do. Reuben had no doubt that, with Hamsterviel's offers being what they were, a truce was light-years away.

	But Stitch was like him. Stitch wasn't just an alien, but an illegal alien genetic experiment with very specific capabilities - the closest in the line to Reuben.

	As the one and only experiment captured by Gantu, things could get a little lonely on board their home sweet star cruiser. Not that he’d ever been an outgoing guy (it just wasn’t in his programming, like salad or diet mayonnaise), but sometimes there was an irresistible urge to talk to someone who got it. The deep-in-your-gut feelings and ponderings of the life of an individual and the stuff of artificial creations, particularly of the mass-destruction variety. That was something neither aliens nor humans quite seemed to understand.

	Everything on Earth had its own special place that he was starting to become aware of as the months passed, while the experiments were just filling space wherever Lilo had thought they’d be useful. Even when they'd found their forever homes, they weren't birds, bees, or even coconuts. The ecosystem didn't want them.

	And Reuben? He sat on board the ship, alone except for his big, temperamental, lumbering friend.

	Stepping up onto the porch, he rang the doorbell and had several moments to think about that while it echoed throughout the house. With the curtains drawn and the view empty, it didn’t look like the family was home. Someone clattered and scrambled around noisily inside, but the door didn’t open. He rang it again.

	“N-no… no one home! Goodbye!” 

	Reuben recognized Stitch’s garbled English and sighed. “Hey, old buddy! It’s me, 625. Look, we gotta talk, so why don’t you just -”

	The door swung open so fast it slammed on its hinges. Stitch stood in the doorway looking furious, but whether it was at Reuben’s visit or at something else he couldn’t say.

	“ – open up.”

	Before he’d even said the words “peace treaty”, he knew Stitch was in a bad mood. Even though he moved to lean against the doorframe as if he hadn’t a care in the world, his normally bright, curious eyes had a hardness to them that suggested everything wasn’t as peachy as he’d have liked others to think. Reuben didn’t fancy being the one to tell him that Hamsterviel’s last furious hangup on the intergalactic telephone hadn’t really been his last, but he was a creature of integrity.

	“So, uh, I’m guessing you’re not in the mood to talk about that peace treaty?” he ventured.

	Stitch’s tired grimace was answer enough. Not that he could blame him when, from the sound of it, all of Hamsterviel’s offers had been utterly insane. They'd been at it for hours, with Stitch and Lilo being desperate to make some kind of a deal to ease the burden of competing with Gantu for Stitch’s missing cousins. It wasn’t that they hadn’t wanted a truce.

	“Eh. I don’t blame you,” Reuben said, waving the idea off. “I really just came here to get away from Gantu and see how things were going. You know, checking up and all that. Did Hamsterviel really offer you guys a place as his servants when he took over the galaxy?” He chuckled as he remembered Hamsterviel's rage.

	"Ugh!” Stitch rubbed his forehead. “No good…”

	"Trust me, it wasn’t fun for us, either.”

	"Naga bootifa. Waste of time,” Stitch said. His shoulders slouched, but he perked up a moment later and offered a too-wide smile. “Oh! Want lemonade?”

	"I… uh…”

	Stitch bolted before he could answer, and the only thing left to do was to follow him inside. For a house that had been wrecked so many times, it was in pristine condition. No cracks in the walls were visible behind the bright floral wallpaper and, while it certainly looked lived-in, there was no sign of dirt or rubble. It must have been hard on Nani with two aliens, a kid, and a “dog” all under one roof.

	What’s this guy up to? Reuben wondered, inspecting a spot in the wall he remembered seeing obliterated by Gantu's ray gun. I expected this to be much harder. He should at least be suspicious. Anyone in their right mind would be. Unless…

	Unless Stitch wanted something, too.

	“Here, here!” Stitch beckoned him from the kitchen where the table was still decorated with tablecloth and various goods. 

	As he approached he could see dishes hastily piled in the sink and the chairs pulled out, suggesting the family had left in a hurry and left behind one disgruntled Stitch. A thick silence settled once the lemonade had been poured and distributed. Reuben sipped at his drink and tried to avoid the kind of awkward, fleeting eye contact that would suggest this visit was anything other than a casual drop-in. It had been so long since he'd had someone to have a real heart-to-heart with that he wasn't sure how to start. 

	Without something pitting them against each other there was a kind of mutual understanding between the two of them, consisting of Reuben’s natural friendliness and Stitch’s increasingly benevolent nature. Right now it worked, but tomorrow - maybe next week - they’d be back to their usual routine.

	Kind of takes the kick out of the moment, he thought, swirling his drink. In the silent room, the clatter of ice cubes in the glass seemed deafening. But it’s now or never…

	“So, uh, all things considered are you really happy here, man?” Reuben hoped he wasn’t pushing his luck with this. 

	“Yes,” Stitch growled, his ears flattening. “Lilo Ohana.”

	“Yeah, yeah, Kumbaya and all. I know,” Reuben said. He hesitated while he took the final slurp of lemonade. “But I mean, aren’t you lonely? You catch the experiments, and you send them off to work in some shop or something with screaming little snot-nosed kids. You pretend to be a dog with these humans – don’t look at me like that, I know what’s what – and you don’t ever want something that’s more, I don’t know, you?”

	Stitch raised an eyebrow, which wasn’t the answer he’d been hoping for. He didn't know what he'd been hoping to hear, come to think of it, but it was too late to stop now.

	“You don’t feel it?” Reuben continued, hearing the edge of nervousness in his own voice and hating it. “The yearning to be out among the stars instead of scraping sand out of your fur. Seeing the big, bright universe. Oh, and Centaurian space jelly. You’ve never had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich until you’ve had one with Centaurian space jelly.”

	“Oh! Alien stuff!” 

	“What alien stuff?” Reuben laughed. “You mean the spaceships?”

	A grin spread across Stitch’s face. “Alien stuff,” he repeated, and before Reuben could protest Stitch had pushed him back into one of the kitchen chairs.

	“Whoa, take it easy,” he protested. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

	Why did that sound like a promise?

	“Good,” Stitch purred. He paused and the next words came out stiffly, as if rehearsed. “You… look tense. Want foot rub?”

	A foot rub? Reuben was flabbergasted, but let Stitch’s hands encircle his feet and start working their magic. And where’d he learn lines like that, Pleakley’s daytime soaps? Nah, that can’t be it…

	Whether or not Stitch was a naturally charismatic fellow, he seemed to have found his calling with footrubs. Tension oozed away when he squeezed and kneaded at the base of those three plump toes, his thumbs finding all the right spots to press. His face as he worked was focused.

	 Despite Stitch's sharp claws, Reuben didn't feel so much as a scrape. He leaned back against the chair and watched as Stitch worked, fascinated. This wasn’t the kind of thing you saw on daytime television, but who complained about a free foot rub and a loving touch in a lonely world?

	Then Stitch's lips touched his toes, and it became an entirely different kind of loving. A kiss was planted at the tip of each one, and when he'd finished he began to lick the soles of Reuben's feet as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. Every time Stitch's tongue dragged itself from heel to toes he shivered at the sensation. Reuben wasn't all that ticklish, but if the heat he felt coursing through his body was any indication he was blushing. Furiously.

	The kitchen of all rooms in the house was no place for things to be getting this intense. Part of him wanted to stop; the other part didn't care who might see. Reuben’s eyes darted to the doorway into the living room, expecting Nani and the others to burst in at any moment and find them in this compromising and rather unflattering position. Stitch didn’t seem to have a care in the world as he moved to lavish attention on Reuben's other foot, but when a door slammed across the street Reuben decided he’d had about all his nerves could take.

	“I-I don’t think we should be doing this here,” he said, pulling his feet away from Stitch and sliding off the chair. “Isn’t everyone else going to be home soon?”

	“Naga,” Stitch said. “Stupid play. Boring. Pfah!” he crossed his arms, the reason for the others’ absence and his bad mood explained.

	No dogs in the theater, even in Hawaii. It made sense. A surge of sympathy welled up in his chest, and he reached out to embrace Stitch. “Hey, I’m sorry they left you behind,” he said. “At least you’ve still got me and the lemonade. How about I make us some nice, comforting grilled cheese?”

	"Taka, achi-baba. You're so warm."

	Stitch was leaning into him far too much for this hug to be family-friendly, he noticed. Reuben didn’t move away, and that was all the encouragement that was needed for Stitch to tilt his head up until his warm breath was wafting across Reuben’s face. Moments later, their lips touched. It was sweet, almost cloying. At first all he could think about was how he was supposed to be here negotiating - not kissing Stitch - but it felt good. More importantly, it felt right. 

	What Gantu and Hamsterviel didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, would it? Nah.

	Two pairs of arms wound themselves around him and wove their fingers through tufts of his yellow fur, and he kissed Stitch with a passion he didn't know he had in him. He squeezed the smaller alien against him, reveling in the feel of someone familiar and the feel of Stitch’s tongue insistently trying to slip into his mouth. 

	Not the type to take it slow. Why am I not surprised?

	All too happy to do a little exploring, Reuben parted his lips and let it happen. Again, he was struck by how unexpectedly natural it felt. The long, alien tongue teasing against his own, the lithe body in his arms, and the way Stitch drove himself into his mouth almost possessively hit the spot like nothing else had the past few weeks. Stitch's hands moved to his shoulders, and he let out a satisfied sigh.

	He was vaguely conscious of backing up out of the kitchen with Stitch still on top of him, barely noticing the soft creak of the floor as they made their way out of the kitchen. Neither of them needed to say the word “privacy” out loud. The door to Jumba’s latest secret laboratory creaked open and they practically tumbled inside. It was hazardous, but that was the least of their concerns. 

	It was as if he was driven by some deeper, biological urge than not tripping over stray anti-matter guns. Or maybe it was just the way Stitch moved against him in a way that was positively erotic, grinding his hips and his growing erection against Reuben’s plump belly. Every now and then it gave him a little poke in the groin as if trying to coax him out, and he would feel the smooth softness of Stitch’s balls dragging across his thigh. He slipped a hand down to cup them and drew a moan out of Stitch with the way his thick, rough fingers kneaded at them. The sound sent  shivers down his spine.

	Reuben’s other hand joined the first and wrapped itself around Stitch's cock, causing him to gasp. When fully erect it was long and slender with the head tapering to a rounded point, and Reuben could trace his thumb over the dull ridges along the underside that were suspiciously similar to the barbs on his back. He hoped he’d never learn anything about that particular feature, but the night was still young.

	Struck by a sudden compulsion to see how the two of them measured up, Reuben reached for his own erection. Several quick pumps later he was firm and throbbing between his fingers, a hint of pre starting show at the tip.

	If there was one thing he had always liked about himself, it was the heaviness of his own thick cock in his hands. Especially when compared to Stitch he was short and stout, with a fat head that no lover would be able to ignore. That was what they’d call “getting plowed”, for sure.

	Stitch smirked.

	“Hey, you’re bigger but I’m thicker. Don’t look so smug,” Reuben waved it off. “Some people like that, you know.”

	Stitch chuckled and reached for him, drawing their erections together. “Ih. Miki miki!”

	Warm flesh met warm flesh, and Reuben bit his lip to repress a groan. With Stitch’s paw squeezing them together, he could feel the slow pulse of blood coursing through his erection and the heat wafting off his body. There was a friction between them as they slowly thrust together that only served to arouse him further, and he was sure Stitch could feel it, too. It wasn't anything like kissing, cuddling, or even hand-holding, but just feeling Stitch’s reactions was surprisingly intimate.

	That was one thing they could both agree on: the little things. Every time he thrust his hips into Stitch’s hand and felt himself pressed between a palm and another hard, throbbing cock, he heard Stitch sigh, too. He was beginning to think he had a weakness for the sensual pleasures not covered in any of his programming schematics.

	Reuben laid a hand over the fingers greedily trying to stroke them both at once. His brain felt as hot and as pulsating as the hard-on he had for Stitch, and whatever reservations he might have had earlier had vanished. There was only one thing on his mind now.

	He leaned in to kiss him again and felt Stitch’s lips seeking out his own. The other experiment was smiling one of those smiles he always got before the mayhem started. Reuben only had a moment to be suspicious of what that translated to in a situation like this before Stitch’s hands were on the back of his head and pushing him down until he was face to face with the very cock he’d been teasing. 

	Wasn’t there an old Earth saying about messing with the bull and getting the horns? It served him right, he supposed. 

	Reuben opened his mouth to let Stitch make the first thrust into his mouth, and was awash in the rich smell of fur pressed against his nostrils, salty pre smearing across his tongue, and a faint but growing musk that stirred something imperceptible in his belly. It was something between a simple masculine sweat and the earthy Hawaiian sands Stitch was always running through that was more complex than either of those things combined. Enticed, he ran his tongue over the narrow head  of Stitch's cock and was rewarded with a husky groan.

	Restraint wasn't one of the virtues the little blue guy was known for, and Reuben had to brace himself with his hands on Stitch's hips. With every thrust he swirled his tongue around the warm flesh and felt the ridges tickling across the top of his tongue when he stopped just to slurp at it. When he bobbed his head down low, the tip just reached the back of his throat. 

	Stitch's hands went to the back of Reuben's head and held him there with his round nose buried in the aroma of arousal and alien male musk. "Don't stop," he moaned, though Reuben couldn't have stopped if he'd wanted to. "Ooh!"

	There was only the subtle twitch of Stitch’s cock and one last, hard thrust as a warning before he orgasmed. The next thing Reuben knew, thick strings of hot, salty seed was coating his tongue and he was struggling to hold his breath and swallow it all. He knew it was over when Stitch sighed and loosened his grip, purring his name.

	Reuben pulled back with a final slurp, sat back on his heels, and looked up to see Stitch smirking again. He wiped his mouth, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious about his eagerness to have someone's junk rammed down his throat. "What? Can't a guy enjoy trying new things now and then?"

	"New things?" Stitch asked, far from done with him. His cock might have gone soft for now, but his mind was still full of ideas. "Yeah! I show you."

	He got behind Reuben and pushed him forward until he was kneeling on all fours. When Stitch's hands grasped his asscheeks, he was curious enough to glance behind him. "What, uh, exactly are you planning, Stitch?"

	"Just try it! Feels good."

	Another thing he'd seen on a channel never meant to be viewed by innocent eyes, Reuben supposed. What could it be now?

	He shivered as he felt Stitch’s tongue leave a wet trail across the backs of his thighs and thought he had an idea what he might be thinking. Reuben might have been modest, but he wasn't naive. He'd heard of things like rimming before. The tongue teased and prodded around his buttocks, beneath his bob-tail, and across his balls – everywhere but his sensitive tailhole. He waited patiently, barely daring to breathe. Propped up on all fours with nothing but the dark windows of the laboratory in sight and the night sky beyond, he felt as though he was at Stitch’s mercy.

	Finally, he felt a wetness at his entrance before being spread wide by the other experiment’s monstrous tongue. As flexible as his body was this hadn’t been in the blueprints, and he let out a gasp.

	Aah, shit! He cursed mentally and gritted his teeth.

	The tongue may have been enormous, but it was still made of soft, pliable, and slimy flesh, and Reuben could feel it yielding as he clenched around it. Not that it changed the sheer size of it as it twisted and thrust its way into deeper and deeper into him, opening him wide in a way that was both tender and savage at once. Huskily, he choked on the words as they came out.

	“Oh, Stitch… damn, I had no idea.” 

	No idea that something like this could feel so good, at least when it was Stitch? Yeah, that must have been it.

	Occupied, Stitch didn’t respond. He didn’t have to say how delighted he was that he’d found someone who was open-minded to his preferences, not when they both knew on some strange, unspoken wavelength that they’d been having the same problem. In some ways, Earth was a very welcoming place. In others, not so much. No human would have been able to take his tongue sliding in and out of them or his claws digging into their rear.

	Why not return the favor? The thought came to him out of the blue, just one more daring new idea whirling around in his lust-addled brain. He could be making Stitch moan and squirm right now, too, and that was something he could listen to all night.

	Twisting around he was able to grab one of stitch’s legs and drag him, still firmly attached to his hindquarters, around  so that the bottom half of his body was splayed out before him. If he remembered right, this was what Earthlings called the “sixty-nine” technique. Not that he was well-versed in late-night channels or anything.

	When he pulled Stitch’s legs apart, he found the little pink pucker beneath his quivering tail. Poking his tongue out between his lips, he could see the broad, flat tip of it that - somehow - he was going to fit inside. Not for the first time tonight, he had thickness on his side and he hoped he’d give his new lover a surprise.

	The first touches were tentative, just the tip of his tongue teasing against the hole and watching Stitch’s reactions. He swayed his hips. He shuffled his feet. He twitched his tail. Everything to show his impatience. Reuben lingered with his tongue just starting to squeeze past the tight rung of muscle and enjoyed the show for a moment, with every breath bringing the tantalizing aroma of Stitch’s privates to his nostrils. Whatever strange scents he'd walked into around town while snooping around in the back rooms, alien arousal was much, much stronger.

	Well, here goes nothing, he thought.

	There was more resistance than he expected, and every push drew a groan from Stitch. He could feel the warm body clenching and unclenching around his tongue, seeming to mold itself to the shape of his tongue as he worked his way in. Not only was there the generous lubrication of his own saliva, but Stitch was unexpectedly slick - another advantage of their bizarre genetic makeup. Not for the first time, Jumba’s programming had more uses than just carnage. Reuben smirked. If only he could see them now.

	While Reuben’s tongue squished and slorped its way into Stitch’s tight hole, muffled sounds of pleasure could be heard from his own rear. He could only guess that meant he was doing something right. Not that Stitch could speak clearly with his face still firmly against Reuben’s buttocks, but he was pretty sure he could make out “more” and a word in Tantalog he recognized as “gimme”.

	What’s that, tough guy? he thought with a smile. Oh, you’re lucky my mouth is busy.
	
	He began to thrust his tongue slowly in and out of Stitch's ass, intending to tease him all the way to another orgasm in return for getting him into this big, sticky mess of a night. He heard a pleased purr, and then Stitch's tongue began to thrust into him, too, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Here and there it would slip out just to circle around before dipping in again, and every time it did Reuben was a little closer to being the first one to cum. All his remaining willpower was bent on not reaching down between his legs and quickly stroking himself to sweet release.

	He didn't need to. Stitch's hand crept along his thigh, briefly fondled his balls, and then wrapped around his shaft. Within moments Reuben's hips were moving against his hand and it was only a minute before he hit his peak. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to stop teasing his tongue deeper and deeper into Stitch, all while thick jets of cum splattered across his stomach and dribbled down onto the hardwood floor. 

	Stitch pulled away and stood up, leaving Reuben light-headed from the force of his orgasm and panting where he sat. A few lines of Reuben's seed were drying in his fur, but he wasn't ready to clean up. In fact, he was hard again and eyeing Reuben like an all-you-can-eat buffet.

	"Whew," Reuben panted. "Hold on, I need a minute. Where do you get all this energy from, anyway?"

	"No matter," Stitch said cheerfully. "Not done yet!" He bent over one of the terminal control panels on the far wall and looked back at Reuben as if to insist that he get up, get hard, and get over there.

	And he was probably going to get his way.

	When Stitch was leaning on the terminal with his elbows out and his bare ass in the air, how could he resist? Stitch was damn sexy when he wanted to be, and he knew it. Reuben could feel his body gearing itself up for another round as he crossed the room.

	Maybe after this, they’d see what delights they could find in Jumba’s closet. There was more than one way to use a molecular vibrator.

	Stitch looked up when Reuben planted his arms on either side of him and smiled. There was definitely a cuteness to him despite his mischievous nature, as there was to all the experiments. Big eyes, soft fur, long ears.. all the usual culprits.

	Reuben leaned in and planted a kiss on Stitch's head. "You sure are cute. I'm going to enjoy pounding you into this terminal," he teased. He let his cock drag across the backs of Stitch’s thighs, pre dribbling out onto the fur, as he ground his hips against him. 

	Stitch eyed the size of his package, having been stuffed with his tongue already. A lewd eyebrow wiggle was Reuben’s only response.

	Grasping his shaft in his hand, he directed it beneath Stitch’s raised tail. The head pressed into his slick, loosened hole, and with his hands braced on the terminal he pushed in until he heard Stitch suck in his breath. The thickness of it, if not the length, was giving even this teased tailhole a stretch. 

	“Now who’s got the nicer equipment, eh?” Reuben chuckled. “Try to relax. There’s more where that came from.”

	“Ah, geez," Stitch murmured. “Meanie. Ow - !”

	Reuben had grasped Stitch’s ears in his fist and given them a tug. The first time it had been playful, but that didn’t mean the next one would be. 

	“What was that?” he said. 

	“Grr.” Stitch rolled his eyes.

	Rocking against Stitch’s tight little ass felt fantastic. His body was practically massaging Reuben's cock as he began to thrust into him, clenching and unclenching as it worked to adjust itself to his considerable girth. Claws scrabbled against the dim terminal buttons as his hips began to buck and twist, and Reuben gave those ears another yank for good measure. Stitch's wavering moan was his reward.

	From this angle, he was able to watch his cock disappearing into the other experiment with every thrust, buried up to the tuft of dark yellow fur at the base. The image alone seemed to make the sensation ten times as intense, watching himself sinking in only to pull out and see his glistening pink flesh smeared with pre and Stitch’s natural lubrication. 

	Leaning over the terminal, he let his arms support his weight as he began to pound away.  With his face inches from Stitch’s ears he could feel the warmth of him pressed against his chest, and every time he gasped he knew Stitch heard it as well as felt it. Soon his tongue was lolling out of his mouth and was raising his ass into the air to meet Reuben's thrusts every time, lost in bliss. Maybe a good pounding now and then was all it really took to keep him under control and out of trouble.

	If only, Reuben thought. I’d better make the most of this while it lasts, because after tonight it’s back to the same old, same old.

	Unfortunately, the beginnings of his next orgasm were creeping up on him all too soon and the night was no longer young. He just couldn't hold himself back around Stitch. The terminal was starting to rattle with the force of his movements, but if there was one good thing to count on it was Stitch’s grunts and gasps every time that massive cock was crammed into him. Reuben’s thickness was proving too much for him to handle, after all.

	He sighed into Stitch's ear, hoping his ragged breath and the sound of his own pleasure would push him over the edge. Stitch’s arms stretched out and one of his claws hit The Big Green Button in the center of the terminal. Reuben wasn’t sure how Jumba’s setup worked, but a big, shiny button was never a good thing – not even a green one. Not that he was going to stop with his balls pulsing and Stitch's body quivering beneath him.

	Ah, I just hope it’s not recording, he thought. He squinted through the sweat dripping down off his brow. Unless…

	There was the sound of a dial tone, so faint that he thought Stitch must have hit the volume, too. He drew in a breath. 

	Let them listen, something whispered. Maybe I’ll get a little credit for having damaged Jumba’s reputation, if nothing else.

	Reuben couldn’t see from this angle whose name and number was displayed on the glowing screen above, but he couldn't imagine it was a friend to him or to Hamsterviel. Maybe it was the United Galactic Federation or their stuffy grand councilwoman. 

	He was huffing and puffing in earnest now, and Stitch’s moans drowned out the voice that answered after an ominous click! of the recipient answering. Reuben could hear the sound of his hips smacking against Stitch’s ass and the scrabbling of claws on the cold metal, and wondered if whoever was on the other end could hear it, too. 

	Would they know the sound of two illegal genetic experiments getting it on when they heard it? The thought honestly turned him on a little. They may have been over there listening attentively to him turning Stitch into a mess, holding their breath with their ear against the receiver for any hint of sound. They may have been -

	A voice emanated from the speakers, if from a distance. “What is the meaning of this unfunniest of funny little jokes, Jumba? Where is... what? What is this?”

	Reuben had just enough sense left to say a little prayer for when he got back to the ship. Not even the voice of Hamsterviel made a difference, and Stitch certainly didn't hear or care as orgasm took him and he let out a pleading noise. Reuben slipped his arms around his waist so that he could pound him doggystyle with every last inch he had until Stitch cried out, his voice thick with lust. A few seconds later he felt strings of warm seed dripping down the terminal and smearing across his legs as he fought to keep them propped up.

	Hamsterviel wasn’t talking anymore. That was one more thing for Reuben to worry about. His eyes flicked up to the screen, but all he could see was a mass of white and he didn’t dare to say anything. 

	Does he even see us? He’s gotta hear this at least. What’s he waiting for?

	Perhaps his ears were only imagining it, but he thought he heard a soft panting coming from the speakers. It was barely audible through the sound of his pulse pounding in his ears and his own heavy breathing, but his ears were sharp even now. The last thought that crossed his mind before he came was, could Hamsterviel really be pleasuring himself to this right now?

	It would have to wait. Stitch’s warmth was welcoming and it pulled him down, down into a deeply primal place that had him groaning out loud as his seed left him in several short spurts. He barely felt the flesh around him as his cock throbbed and pulsed, his body trying to pump out as much as possible. He squeezed Stitch's asscheeks in his hands and rode it out, but as heavenly as it was, it was over all too soon and was left sucking in deep breaths of air to steady himself.

	“Aww, yeah. That’s the spot,” he said. It slipped out and he immediately wondered why he’d said it and damned himself.

	“Is it, now?” Hamsterviel hissed. However quiet he may have been moments before, he was now furious. Pushing himself back, Reuben looked up to see Hamsterviel's face twisting into a storm of emotion.

	“Uh-oh,” Stitch said.

	Uh-oh was the understatement of the century.

	Hamsterviel watched them with one eyebrow cocked, daring him to say anything smart-alecky. Reuben didn't. Instead, he quickly removed himself from Stitch and helped the other experiment, sore ass and all, to stand up and face their co-creator’s wrath.

	“Oh, so this is how Gantu has you doing things!”

	“N-no.” Reuben shook his hands. “Look, I’m not gonna say it wasn’t what it looked like...”

	“Spare me! I am no fool, experiment 625,” Hamsterviel shouted. “You minions have been sneaking around like the sneaky little rats you are and negotiating the easy way while I have been doing all the work, as usual.”

	“But -”

	“Pilot, turn this ship around at once.” Hamsterviel turned from the screen. “I’m going to teach my smart-alecky little creations a lesson they won’t soon forget.”

	“Uh, sir Hamsterwheel?”

	“Hamsterviel!”

	Reuben and Stitch both held their breath as the pilot's voice continued over the phone, originating from someplace offscreen.

	“Sir, sorry, sir. It’s just... even at our current speed, we won’t be able to make it to Earth any sooner than a week. Although, we should really be going to Galaxion 5 like we were supposed to…”

	“Silence! You,” Hamsterviel pointed at Stitch, “will utilize Jumba’s teleporter to bring me there. I’m sure you know how to operate it. I will come there right now.”

	Reuben’s first instinct was to obediently move towards the tall, foreboding teleporter pod in the corner of the room. Halfway across, he hesitated and turned back to the screen. “What exactly are you planning, if I might ask? I-I mean I’m sure we’re all very sorry that things haven’t been working out so far.”

	“Now!” Hamsterviel’s voice, even on the low volume setting of the terminal, seemed to reverberate throughout the room.

	Stitch, still sated and floating in post-orgasmic bliss, was watching him curiously as he grappled with the decision. He didn’t look angry. Whatever had happened between them just now, they still weren’t on the same side. It really hadn’t been a negotiation.

	A button here, a lever there, and soon the teleporter pod began to glow. Reuben nervously fiddled with his hands while he waited.

	Hamsterviel disappeared from the screen into the depths of the ship only to reappear in a flash of light on the landing pad looking as cross as ever. However, there was one not-so-small difference: Hamsterviel was fully erect.

	That answered a lot of questions, and he now had a few guesses as to what their punishment was going to be.

	Standing before him at roughly Reuben’s own height, Hamsterviel had his arms crossed over an erection that towered up from his groin and dwarfed both his and Stitch’s in size and girth. Veiny and throbbing, it was the product of obvious genetic experimentation, something that he knew when he saw, confirming his suspicions that not everything that had gone on in the laboratory all those years ago had been purely scientific.

	“Hmph. Good,” Hamsterviel said. “You seem to know what’s best for you.”

	What Hamsterviel did next, though, had nothing to do with his cock. He climbed into Jumba’s overstuffed laboratory chair, lowered it until he was on eye level with the two experiments, and sat back with his feet sticking out in front of him. “You two,” he pointed first at Reuben and then at Stitch, “are to cease your lollygagging and your humping to attend to your creator. Now!”

	He wiggled his toes impatiently while they both looked on in astonishment.

	“A-attend to you?” Reuben stalled. “Well, I left all my supplies on the ship, but I suppose there might be something for peanut butter and jelly downstairs.”

	He’d expected kinky, but not this kinky. Hamsterviel was his boss, and a boss who'd undergone genetic experimentation of questionable legal status on his junk at that. What innocence was left to lose, though?

	Boy, this day just gets weirder and weirder, he sighed. Here I am almost wishing I’d just had a normal day. Freaky.

	Reuben crossed the room to the chair, but Stitch wasn’t a fan of Hamsterviel’s bossy tone. “Ah, naga! Jumba creator,” he spat, crossing his arms.

	There was something in his own tone that was defiant, but not too defiant. Something told Reuben that this situation wasn’t about to come to blows the way so many others had, and that in itself spoke volumes. Hamsterviel merely crossed his arms and leaned back, confident that he would get his way.

	When Reuben knelt down he received an approving nod. Hamsterviel's feet were slender and elongated, with soft pink pawpads that had clearly been gently tended to over the years, true to their owner’s fussy nature. Reuben had seen him wearing a facemask complete with cucumbers over the eyes on more than one occasion, but he’d never have guessed that he was vain about his feet. Surprise, surprise.

	“Well?” Hamsterviel pressed.

	“You, uh, want me to rub ’em, sir?” Reuben ventured. He was aware of being watched by Stitch, and guessed that they were both experiencing the same inner conflict. Maybe that was what Hamsterviel wanted.

	Hamsterviel frowned. “No, I want you to make a sandwich out of them! Get rubbing!”

	Taking the right paw into his hands, Reuben began to slide his hands up and down, feeling the luxurious white fur. When he pressed his thumbs against the pads and began to knead at them he was reminded of velvet. The faint smell of Hamstervil’s moisturizer and shampoo reached his nostrils, and he had to admit it wasn't all that bad.

	Foot rubs were always made out to be the gift that nobody wanted to give, but there was nothing unpleasant about these dainty digits. He tried to avoid making eye contact, sure that he would only start blushing if he did and wound up admitting by the look on his face that he wasn’t finding this punishment to be altogether unpleasant. Hamsterviel's gaze felt like it was burning into him as he worked, and that only made it harder. Whether this was intended to be merely a show of dominance or not, Hamsterviel’s orders weren’t so laughable when he was lounging, legs splayed and cock erect, in a fancy chair in front of you.

	Finding Reuben’s performance acceptable for now, Hamsterviel turned his attention to Stitch and motioned to him with a curl of his finger. He wouldn’t be satisfied until the both of them were kneeling at his feet.

	“Oh, experiment 626, one of my feetsy-feets is not being attended to,” he crooned. “I’m only going to say this once, so join your little friend here and pay your respects.”

	There was a brief, thoughtful hesitation before he complied. Stitch knelt beside him, and when the both of them began to rub they thought this would be it. Give him what he wanted, and that would be it.

	But Hamsterviel wasn’t satisfied. He never was.

	“Oh, you know something,” Hamsterviel touched a finger to his chin. “I’m having an idea, experiment 626.”

	Though he glanced up, Stitch didn’t stop rubbing. His expert fingers continued to stroke and press, the sharp claws never once leaving a scratch or a scrape on the tender pawpads. Hamsterviel wouldn't have let him forget it if he did.

	“Hmm,” Hamsterviel sighed, clearly enjoying making them wait. He tapped his chin and rolled his eyes. “What was it that I was thinking… ah! There it is. Why don’t you try licking them?”

	“Licking?” Stitch asked.

	“Yes, licking! Get to it.”

	Stitch’s tongue was dragged along the soles of Hamsterviel’s foot while their punisher giggled and squirmed in his chair. It wound itself between the toes and left warm, sticky trails of saliva clinging between them as they wiggled and stretched. There was the hint of a smile on his face suggesting that he didn't think attending to their co-creator's feet was such a bad punishment, either.

	Reuben didn’t wait for Hamsterviel to order him to start licking, too. He stuck out his tongue and dragged it from heel to toes, feeling the luxuriously pampered fur tickling along his tastebuds as he did. This time Hamsterviel really did let out a snort of laughter and his toes curled around Reuben’s tongue as he lapped.

	The pawpads were soft and had a neutral taste he couldn’t quite place. He wasn't sure what he'd expected feet to taste like before this, but it was nothing as raunchy as what was usually associated with them. Hamsterviel only smelled like clean, shampooed fur and the faint metallic smell that always seemed to linger in spacefaring vessels no matter how lived-in they were.

	Next to him he heard Stitch groaning. He was about to ask if he really liked being punished by licking someone’s feet that much when he looked over and saw that Hamsterviel was up to no good. He’d snuck the foot down between Stitch’s thighs, where he was currently giving him a sly footjob. With his chin in his hand and the seat tilted back, he watched as Stitch fought to keep still while those slender toes slid up and down his growing erection.

	“You like them, 626?” Hamsterviel asked. “I take very good care of them, as I do all of my wondrous self. Tell me how nice you think they are.”

	“Very nice,” Stitch replied, his hips starting to move in tandem. “So smooth. Ooh…”

	Hamsterviel wasn’t the only one who couldn’t take his eyes off Stitch. While Reuben had already gotten a taste of just how surprising he could be, the latest transformation from headstrong rebel into kneeling footslave was like something out of a dream - or a porno. Everything he’d experienced before today pointed to him being the menace he’d been created to be beneath the new tricks he'd learned, but he supposed everyone had secrets. Some of them just got tired of the life they lived in the eyes of their families and the public eye.

	With his eyes closed and his chest slowly rising and falling, he looked different. Erotic, even. One of Stitch's hands rose to his chest and gently combed through his fur as he sighed, as if he were imagining being touched. 

	Definitely erotic, he confirmed.

	There was something thrilling about seeing him with his guard down, and about this whole out-of-context affair between three people who normally wouldn’t stand to be in the same room together. It was so wrong, it was right. He could feel himself getting hard again, thinking of all the ways in which either of them might give Stitch another little push.

	“You’re enjoying this too much,” Hamsterviel chuckled, eyes flashing lewdly. “I’m not here to please you.”

	Reuben and Stitch exchanged worried glances.

	“No,” he continued. “I’m not. And I have yet to punish you, experiment 625, for sneakily sneaking behind my back and starting without me.”

	“You’re still upset about that? Oh, boy….”

	“Yes, I am still upset!” Hamsterviel’s fist slammed on the armrest, his temper ignited. “Did you think I would just forget?”

	“N-no, of course not…”

	“Just for that, I will devise a special punishment,” Hamsterviel growled. His eyes darted around the room to the various devices, thingamajigs, and doohickeys with which he might torment them before settling on Stitch. “You! Come here. He can watch while I have my way with you.”

	Stitch shook his head defiantly. "Naga! Foot rubbing is best punishment."

	“No? You don’t want to put on a show for our little friend who was caught sleeping with the enemy?”

	“Eh, a show?” Stitch looked curious now, with that playful spark back in his eyes. “Hmm. Reuben watch?”

	“Yes, he gets to watch since he clearly likes to do so so much and you are a glutton for punishment, having turned down all of my generous offers today. Now come.” Hamsterviel reached down between his legs and wrapped his hand around his cock, beginning to stroke himself. Hints of thick, gooey pre dribbled out from the head and ran down the length, making it glisten tantalizingly in the dim light of the laboratory.

	After glancing at Reuben, Stitch climbed onto the chair and precariously straddled Hamsterviel's lap. His own erection was half the size of the veiny monstrosity prodding at his tailhole, and even after taking Reuben it looked like it was going to be a real stretch.

	Hamsterviel gave an approving nod, and pointed at Reuben. "You are to watch only, not touch."

	"But sir..."

	"Yourself! You are not to touch yourself in any way."

	Reuben nodded. “Of course, sir. I’ve been a bad boy.”

	He received a stern look for that one, but Hamsterviel was too busy positioning himself to scold him. With both hands on Stitch's hips, he gave a stern command. "Sit, you."

	Not that Reuben didn’t agree with the bigger is better philosophy, but he had no idea how Stitch was going to manage. The way Stitch was looking at it, he wasn’t sure, either. Thick globs of pre continued to ooze from the head, and if the genetic experimentation Hamsterviel had performed on himself had done this to a mere hard-on the big finish could only be a sight to behold. The head alone made Stitch moan when it finally popped inside, and there were still several inches to take.

	Thank goodness the little guy’s elastic, Reuben thought. If he can hold a whole dinner table’s worth of food, maybe he’ll find the space for this.

	Teeth gritted, Stitch tried to ease himself down on top of Hamsterviel and take things slow. Hamsterviel wasn’t having it.

	“Hurry up, you,” he said. “Don’t make me wait!”

	Stitch growled. But he looked back at Reuben, sitting back with his hands at his sides, and his expression changed. “Okay.” With his hands on Hamsterviel's chest and a moan rumbling in his throat, he pushed himself down until only the furry white balls were visible beneath him. 
	
	Hamsterviel grinned, pulled out, and thrust himself back into Stitch with a lewd grunt. Stitch gasped and tried to brace himself for the pounding of his life, hands twisting into the fur of his chest.

	Watching Hamsterviel stretching Stitch wide and doing nothing was harder than he thought. When Stitch started to bounce on his lap in earnest, one hand between his legs and stroking his own cock, Reuben realized he couldn't just sit idly by and commit this to memory for another night. What Gantu and Hamsterviel hadn’t known had come back to bite him in the ass, but he thought of himself as an optimist when he decided that – this time – what Hamsterviel didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

	Who was paying attention to old Reuben right now, anyway?

	He had to suck in his bulging belly to reach, but with that done he was able to curl up into a semi-ball and close his lips around the head of his own aching need. Every human male’s dream; an experiment’s first trick. Stitch was the experienced one when it came to using the innate powers that Reuben, the last in line before him, shared by nature, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t give himself a good blowjob now and then if he really wanted to. Right now, there was nothing in the world he wanted more.

	Reuben knew there wasn’t much time for him or for Hamsterviel. The salty taste of his own pre coated his tongue as he worked himself lower still, applying suction as he went and stroking himself with the flat top of his tongue. A thousand times better than jerking off, as always. The real fantastic part was being able to look up and still see beneath Stitch’s bobbing tail.

	The pink of Hamsterviel’s cock was disappearing and reappearing into Stitch with lewd, sticky sounds worthy of the tag “alien stuff”. He’d never seen anything like it. Pre had begun to pool between his thighs where it wasn’t smeared across Stitch’s buttocks, and as Reuben watched he though could see the first spurts of Hamsterviel’s seed spurting out as orgasm hit him. 

	Hamsterviel's nails dug into Stitch's hips, and with his face scrunched he slammed his hips upwards until only his small, furry balls were still visible and pulsating. He gave short, quick thrusts until he'd roughly emptied himself into the squirming Stitch. Sure enough, rivulets of cum were seeping out from Stitch's tender tailhole, the experiment simply unable to take all that plus cock.

	Holding that scene in his head, Reuben squeezed his eyes shut, shuddered, and felt his own orgasm overpower him. He quickly swallowed the evidence and wiped the corners of his mouth.

	Stitch murmured something unintelligible, and moments later his hips began to spasm, causing even more of Hamsterviel's cum to dribble out. A few short spurts of his own seed were spattered across Hamsterviel's stomach and chest while their co-creator smirked, but it was nothing compared to the gloppy mess oozing out around his tailhole. He looked spent. Blissful, but spent.

	Reuben sat up and tried to look innocent, hoping Hamsterviel wouldn't comment on his drooping erection. He didn't.

	Instead, he pushed Stitch off of him and hopped down from the chair. He casually glanced at his groin, smeared with what looked like a threesome's worth of fluids. "Yes, well, I'm sure my assistant will have something for this."

	With one hand on his rear, Stitch cursed and tried to inspect himself. The poor little guy was so sore he could barely stand up, but it made Reuben a little more motivated to leave Gantu's ship when space aliens weren't the only crazy thing happening in Hawaii. He could stand to see that again, for sure.

	Hamsterviel didn’t intend to stay to help clean up. He gave a leery look to the thick globules of sperm covering the fine hardwood floor, sniffed, and slammed his fist on one of the telepod’s buttons. It whirred to life.

	“I hope you two have learned your lesson,” he said. “I won’t hesitate to be back if you so rudely disrespect my offers again.” He stepped into the light of the telepod and vanished without so much as a backwards glance.

	"Hey, I'll help you clean up. Don't worry," Reuben said.

	Stitch was too tired to express his gratitude with anything more than a groan before flopping to the floor.

	Jumba's closets and drawers were, unsurprisingly, either locked or filled with half-finished horrors, so Reuben took the mop from the closet and lugged it down the hall. He was too tired to worry about the occasional splash when the real spillage had yet to be mopped up. When he returned, he found Stitch at the terminal and the call history undergoing a thorough wipe. Digital evidence was evidence, too.

	"You'd better take a wash, too," Reuben said as he began to swab at the floor. He pointed to Stitch's tousled and sticky fur. "Hamsterviel really did a number on you."

	"Water bad," Stitch hissed, ears flattening. He pointed to the window. "Hurry home. Almost time!"

	"Alright, alright," he replied. "Not like I'll be the one in trouble if anyone here knows what dried alien jizz looks like."

	The sound of a car engine approached from the front of the house, and Stitch jumped out of Jumba's chair. "Naga! Go! Sorry," he said. He seemed genuinely apologetic as he shooed Reuben towards the window. "Thanks for alien stuff."

	Stitch had the courtesy to yank the window open for him, and the cool air of a Hawaiian summer night blew in over the thick, almost sour scent of sex lingering in the air. That was something no human could miss, let alone another alien. For Stitch's sake, he hoped it would be enough.

	"Okay," he said, huffing and puffing as he tried to hoist himself over the ledge. "You take care, okay?"

	"Okay," Stitch promised. He gave him a small wave, shoved the mop unceremoniously into a closet where it rattled and clattered to the floor, and bolted out the door. The sound of his scrabbling claws was audible all the way to the end of the hall.

	Reuben didn't know what he was planning, but he hoped he wasn't going to try to play it smooth with an attitude like that. His folks may have been a bit loony, but they weren't stupid. He allowed himself a wistful pause, then mentally wished this peaceful and rather enlightening evening goodbye before heaving himself out the window. Maybe someday when there really was an end to the battles, they'd have another one of these peace talks. Maybe sooner, if they were lucky.

	He heard the front door slam just as his feet landed on the roofing, and Nani's concerned voice echoed throughout the house.

	"Stitch! What is that smell? What have you been up to while we were gone? I hope you didn't make a mess, because it is way too late to clean this place again."

	"Ah, no worry. Just alien stuff," Stitch replied. "No big deal."