The Right Thing
Copyright ｩ 2011 Veritas

It wasn't often that Brandon saw a boomer he didn't know.
Most of that was because he didn't live in a place where kangaroos and the like were in any way common. Those that did live around here, for the most part, were already familiar. And yet there one was that he couldn't remember seeing before - young, maybe just starting college; that'd explain him being a new face. He looked reasonably fit, as well as could be told given that their kind tended to be rather pear-shaped regardless. He had slate-grey fur and well-kept clothing.
He also looked rather wilted - slouching, ears drooping, a perfect picture of someone who was Not Having A Good Time - and he was scanning the club crowd with an expression somewhere between wistful and envious.
When the music turned to a slow number and the people on the dance floor started pairing up, that expression shifted decidedly toward envious.
A loner at a club, wishing he could be one of the couples... heartbreak, Brandon guessed. Or romantic issues of some kind, anyway. And there was something about the way this new boomer's gaze lingered... Brandon put that out of his mind. Whatever happened, happened; but here was a good-looking guy who didn't deserve to feel totally alone. Not on a nice early-autumn evening like this, especially.
Brandon waddled over; a crowded club was not a good place to go bounding about. The younger man didn't even glance Brandon's way as he pulled himself onto the next stool over.
“Hey,” Brandon said - gently, though the other boomer still started upright. “Sorry. Mind if I sit here? You looked like you could use some company.”
“Oh... sure, if you want,” the younger man said with a shrug. “I'm not really good company myself right now, though.”
“No, no,” Brandon laughed, “I'm the one who's supposed to be good company. You're the one who looks like you need it. I don't see other 'roos around very much, so I don't want to let one be lonely, mmm?”
“Oh. Uh... sorry.” The other ducked his head, ears canting back. “I, uh, guess I didn't really think that one through.”
“It's okay.” Brandon reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. When he didn't draw away, only tensed slightly, Brandon gave it a squeeze. “So what's your name, anyway? I'm Brandon, Brandon Macintosh.”
“Uh... I'm Eric Rufus. Um, nice to meet you?” Eric gave a crooked smile, though he didn't hold Brandon's gaze. “You're right about there not being many of us around.”
“Rufus, huh?” Brandon glanced down at his own rust-brown pelt. “You'd think that'd be my name. But enough of that.” He leaned in a little closer. “What's got you so down, Eric? Looking out at the people here like you are... girl trouble?”
He tensed under Brandon's fingers, just short of a flinch, and he looked down. His ears managed to get even more flushed. “Uh. N-not exactly.”
Brandon took a deep breath. It was kinda starting to look like his earlier suspicions were at least partly on the mark, but he had to do this gently. And show right off the bat that he wasn't flinging it as an accusation. “Boy trouble? I know how that goes.” There, tie it to himself and it wouldn't seem like a judgement, right?
“Wha - y-you do?” Eric blinked up at him.
“Sure.” Keep it matter of fact, he figured. Non-threatening. “And trying to find that one-in-ten who's even remotely eligible would be hard enough even if none of them were already taken, so... yeah. I know boy trouble, and it starts right from the first step, sometimes. But what's yours, exactly?”
“Well, I...” Eric sighed, looking down. “I... haven't exactly got that far yet.”
Maybe Brandon was being a bit too casual and chipper about it. “I'm listening,” he prompted, keeping his voice soft, his tone serious.
A few awkward moments passed. The crowd milled about; the club lights danced and flashed; the heavy beat pounded. Finally, Eric sighed again. “It's... my folks.”
Oh, damn.
It probably wasn't the smartest thing in the world. But hearing the pain in that admission, seeing it in Eric's features... Brandon didn't think. He just pulled the other boomer close, wrapping both arms around him.
Apparently it was the right thing to do - or at least, not the wrong thing. Eric slumped against him, curling up a little and shivering, his cheek pressing against Brandon's shoulder. He wasn't crying loud enough to be audible over the music and the crowd, but it was plain enough that he needed that friendly shoulder. So Brandon just kept holding him, murmuring assurances over Eric's pinned back ears. It got better; Brandon himself was proof of that. So that was one promise he didn't mind making.
At length, Eric pulled back slightly, and Brandon let him go. The russet boomer's shirt was a bit damp at the shoulder; Eric glanced at that, then looked down. “S-sorry about that.”
“Hey...” Brandon recaptured Eric's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Least I could do. Don't worry about it. Still... want to talk about it? This isn't the best place for it, too noisy, but... I've got a room to myself, no nosey roommates to interrupt.”
Eric started to demur, but cut himself off. “M-maybe I should. Not really getting past it on my own.”
Down, boy, Brandon told himself as he turned to settle his tab. They were just going to talk, to get acquainted, that was it.
They got some of the talking done on the way to the bus stop, and over the course of the ride. Eric was indeed a student, just starting his first year in Statistics. His family wasn't very well off, but he had good enough grades to be pulling in enough scholarships to cover most of what his student loans didn't.
Which was good, because when his dad had been digging through his things - fetching his cell phone for him, Eric said, nothing more sinister - he'd found a gay not-quite-porn mag, started a shouting match, and somewhat literally thrown his oldest son out of the house.
So much for a pleasant weekend with the family.
Hearing that, Brandon was actually impressed that Eric was taking it so well. There was a mess of tension, doubt, and maybe a little self-hate under the surface - but that surface was no more than a little gloomy. In his shoes, Brandon would probably have been a wreck.
Off the bus, as they hopped along the campus trails, Brandon ventured, “I guess getting on with your life is the best thing you can do, huh? Show him that you don't need his support. And hope the rest of your family can bring him down at least enough to be civil.”
“Yeah. Things could be worse,” Eric said with a grimace. “I mean, they're gonna be tight... but I think I'll still be able to make it.” He sighed. “Especially since I won't need to worry about bus fare home.”
Pausing at the door, Brandon reached over to give the younger boomer's shoulder another squeeze. He didn't have anything to say to that, though. What could he say? Brandon's own folks had known he was gay before he did. Objections from a few aunts, uncles, and cousins were draining, but at least he had always had the support of his immediate family.
He put the fretting aside for a moment and pushed into the lobby.
Eric didn't live in Brandon's dorm, but just having a student card meant that checking in as a guest was a simple matter of swiping his ID, and that was just a fire safety thing. The security guard didn't even bat an eye as Brandon led him to the elevators.
“This place is a lot bigger than my dorm,” Eric observed, whistling at the number of buttons on the elevator panel, and raising his eyebrows when he saw how high Brandon reached. “Fire drills must be a pain, huh?”
“You're telling me,” Brandon sighed. Sixteenth floor. And stairwells really weren't well-suited to oversized kangaroo feet. He'd been lucky enough to avoid fire drills so far this year, but they'd been bad enough when he'd been on the fifth floor, hopping from one landing to the next with at most one or two intermediate steps. A bone-jarring descent that had been... and this was more than three times greater.
For now, though, there was the elevator.
“At least I've got a nice view,” he noted. “My room overlooks campus, not the city, so there should be a lot of green come spring.”
“I think I'd rather have the curtains closed, if it's all the same to you.” Eric shuddered. “I'm not normally scared of heights, but I think that'd be pushing it.”
That was fair. And though it was dark out now, the sun had been shining in the window when Brandon was last in, so the curtains were, in fact, drawn. So it was that Eric's response on walking in was just another low whistle.
“I think you could fit two of my room in here,” he said. “Maybe three. And I have to share it with someone else!”
“I'm sure not about to complain,” Brandon admitted, gesturing toward the easy chair and claiming the desk chair for himself. “So, uh... we kinda got more of the talking done on the way than I thought we would. Anything else on your mind?”
“I don't know,” Eric sighed. “I mean, I guess I'm just... numb, still. Don't know what to think about... the whole mess back home. More worried about just getting through the days... trying to have some kind of normal life.”
He put such heavy weight on “normal”... “You don't need to live life that much differently, you know?” he offered. “I mean, people don't normally guess by looking at me that I'm into guys. If I go out with a boy, we do pretty much like anyone else does on a date.”
“I guess.” Another sigh. “I just... I just don't know how to, well... do it.” Eric looked down. “How do you just... go up and ask someone like that?”
“If I knew an easy way, I'd use it myself, trust me,” Brandon said, shifting his chair a little closer to the other's. “But that's about it, I think. You've gotta be sure someone's available, that's nothing new... and that they're into guys, which guys approaching girls can be a little safer assuming. But in the end... it still comes down to asking the question.”
Eric leaned back in his chair. “Well, what about you?” he prompted, gesturing around the room. “Got anyone to share this palatial space with.”
Brandon's first response was to laugh. “I wish,” he said. “So maybe I'm not the best person to be taking... romantic advice from...”
His first instinct had been to assume Eric was just asking in general terms. They didn't really know each other, right? But maybe, just maybe...
He looked up. Eric was watching him... with a focus that was downright daunting.
Brandon swallowed. “Was that... making sure I'm available?”
Eric opened his mouth, closed it, and just nodded, looking down.
All those “cute guy in close proximity” feelings Brandon had been trying to push back  came crashing down on him with renewed force. He swallowed again.
Besides being cute, this guy was smart and obviously resilient, and what Brandon had heard suggested he was a good guy, too. Brandon did not want to screw this up.
“I, uh...” Dammit he was feeling dry all of a sudden. “I don't know how much we should commit to right now. I mean, you're holding up amazingly, but... you've got to be still hurting. That's... not really a good place to be charting out your future from.”
“How 'bout just the next night?” Eric asked, and though his voice was quiet, there was a yearning under it that made Brandon ache.
Especially in his shorts. But maybe he was projecting. “What... did you have in mind?”
“I don't know,” Eric exclaimed, hands clenching into fists. “But I do know my roommate was expecting me to be gone for the weekend, and... and I really don't want to tell him what's up. Especially not if he took the chance to bring his girlfriend there.”
Ouch. Yeah, Brandon could understand wanting to avoid that. “Well, it's not like I'd mind if you want to crash here. I don't really have anywhere but the bed that'd be comfortable, though, and,” he felt his ears burn, “I can't guarantee I'd keep my hands to myself in that case.”
“Brandon?” Again there was a husky longing in the younger man's voice. “I wouldn't want you to. I could really go for being held right now. And not,” he hurried to add, “just in an innocent, just-as-friends way.”
“Well, uh...” Brandon bit his lip. Sure, he'd been checking the guy out. Sure, he'd have been happy to sleep with the guy. But now... he really, really didn't want to screw up any chance they might have for something bigger. “Maybe we can try to go on an actual date sometime soon? Just a little thing, maybe I'll cook something here. It's a bit weird to get it on before the first date, but...”
“I'd like that,” Eric said, with the biggest, most earnest smile Brandon had yet seen on his face.
That smile was heartening. Brandon felt himself return it as he got up to his feet.
They met about halfway between their respective chairs. Eric was wide-eyed, trembling a little, anxious but eager; his fingertips brushed tentatively along Brandon's jaw as he leaned in.
Then their mouths met, and there wasn't much that was tentative at all. Clumsy, yes - Eric obviously wasn't used to kissing people, not that deep sort of kiss, and their noses bumped in the process. But once he settled into it, there was a hunger in him that was very gratifying. Especially when his hands started roaming down Brandon's body - not tugging at his clothes, not yet, but feeling all over him with an almost desperate urgency. Like the younger boomer wasn't quite convinced this was really happening, and needed that touch to be sure of it.
Well, that was a sort of touch that Brandon was only too willing to answer. And Eric arched under his hands with a moan that sent a tingle from where it slipped into Brandon's mouth, down his spine, and right into his balls.
By the time the kiss parted, Eric was looking rather breathless. He was shaking harder, too, but even if he'd closed his eyes Brandon would've known it was not hesitation, but the reverse, that made the younger man tremble.
“Easy there,” Brandon murmured over Eric's lips, smiling and pulling his own shirt up. “We've got all night, yeah? All weekend, even. No need to rush things along too much.”
“S-sorry,” Eric stammered, but he was grinning. As Brandon lifted his shirt off, Eric's fingers followed its hem upwards, combing through russet fur. And when he tossed his shirt aside and reached down for the other boomer's, he could see, lower down, a very promising swell in Eric's shorts.
He licked his lips. Maybe they were going a little fast, but hell, he was going to enjoy every step of the way.
He wound up behind Eric as he finished stripping down, and though the other boomer glanced over his shoulder, he didn't turn around to look lower down. When Brandon reached around him for his belt, he just clutched at his arms and leaned back against him, moaning out loud.
And when he had belt and fly loose and reached in to find warm flesh, Eric bucked and cried out against him, so tense that Brandon almost thought he was going to come on the spot.
Maybe he almost did. But when the moment passed and Brandon got his shorts out of the way, the only moisture to be found on his rigid flesh or on Brandon's own fingers was slick and clear.
They sat on the edge of Brandon's bed, and finally Eric turned toward him, trembling fingers coming to rest on the tip of Brandon's own cock, sliding down along its curving length, right down to where his balls draped over it. The grey boomer swallowed. “Whoa,” he breathed. “I probably sound really silly, but this is... wow.”
“It's okay,” Brandon purred, running his own fingers along the underside of the other youth's length. “I remember how it felt the first time I got to touch someone else's cock. It's... kinda that moment when you can actually say to yourself that you're not a virgin anymore, huh?”
 Eric blinked, his fingers pausing. “Never thought of it like that...” He stroked up toward Brandon's tip again. “Thought I'd have to at least come first, I guess.”
“That,” Brandon sighed, “can be arranged.” He wrapped his fingers around, sliding down the other boomer's shaft, then up it again, pumping it steadily. “Still sexual experience either way, yeah?”
“Oh, God,” Eric whimpered in reply. He gripped Brandon's cock in turn, and though he was far more hesitant about stroking, the way he quivered under Brandon's touch and clung to his shoulder was pretty pleasing in itself.
Of course, it was even more so about a minute of mutual fondling later, when Eric bucked up, whimpering, panting hard and fast, sticky spunk pulsing over Brandon's fingers and running down his own length.
In the wake of it, he slumped, still panting at first, but quickly steadying. His head pressed down against Brandon's shoulder, and he let out a heavy sigh. “That was nice,” he breathed, fingers sliding along Brandon's shaft again. “But... but what about you?”
“We've got the weekend, like I said,” Brandon chuckled. “Don't worry, it's still early. Give you some time, and maybe you'll be ready for a little something else, yeah?”
“Oh, God, I hope so.” Eric's free hand came up to Brandon's jaw, tilting his head toward the other boomer's for a soft kiss. “Still... thanks,” he murmured, smiling. “That was really nice.”
“I'm in full agreement there,” Brandon chuckled, nuzzling into Eric's palm. “Feeling good so far, then?”
“Yeah.” Eric's arm wound around Brandon's shoulders, and he leaned his head against the older boomer's shoulder. “It's... not wrong, right? It's just people who don't like things changing that...”
“I'm not even gonna try to explain those attitudes,” Brandon sighed. “But I've talked to some good people about it, and they all said that no, it's not wrong. It's okay.”
Eric sighed as well, and just kept leaning against him. After a few moments, Brandon got him to shift all the way onto the bed, and stretched out beside him, feet planted to either side of his tail. At first, Eric just curled in against his side. Soon enough, though, the hand that was splayed over Brandon's chest roamed a little, and slid down over his stomach, and then a bit lower still.
The caress over his balls drew from Brandon another sigh; the stroke along his still-rigid shaft, base to tip, a deeper groan. And then Eric sat up beside him, gazing downward, and bit his lip.
“Hey, um...” Eric flashed a nervous smile. “There's more stuff guys do with each other, right?”
Brandon couldn't help but blink. Every time he thought Eric was on the verge of succumbing to what had happened to him, the younger man just... picked himself right back up. “Well, yeah,” he said, and then he felt Eric shifting down beside him. Chuckling, he brought a hand up to rub behind Eric's ears. “If you're after what I think you are... take it easy, huh? And don't be surprised if it doesn't get me off. It's not nearly as easy as porn makes it look.”
“Oh.” Those ears tilted back under Brandon's fingers, a little flushed. “Uh... thanks. It, um... still feels good, doesn't it?”
“Sure can,” Brandon sighed, running his fingers along the edge of one ear. “Just take it slow and mind your teeth.”
Flushing harder still, Eric nevertheless continued to shuffle down over the sheets. He swung his leg over, settling his knees in between Brandon's own, right against base of the older boomer's tail. His fingers wrapped around Brandon's waiting length.
And then, after one last timid glance up at him, Eric lowered his head and took a lick.
It was... nice. Not the best blowjob he'd ever got, maybe, but there was no way he was going to say that out loud to someone doing it for the first time. And it was good enough to get him to melt against the sheets, letting a deep moan rise in his throat and slip free.
It wasn't going to get him off, no. He'd been right about that. But it was still bliss. And if Eric wasn't exactly adventurous, if even when he slid his muzzle down over Brandon's length he didn't go far, well, that just meant he never went too far and needed to back off.  He nursed on Brandon's cock, and licked at it, and sometimes pulled off and stroked it a few times before getting his mouth right down against it again.
All the while something warm and firm made a reappearance against Brandon's tail.
That hardness, and Eric's eagerness, might have actually got him off in a while, too; but Eric's attentions were starting to flag, and when Brandon nudged his shoulder upwards, the younger boomer's jaws worked a few times. Definitely starting to get sore.
Well, that meant it was time to move on.
“That was really nice,” Brandon praised. “I mean, okay, I've had a couple guys do it to me before, but... I dunno quite how to say this. You really felt like you meant it. Like you really wanted me to feel good.”
“Well...” Still flushed, Eric shrugged. “You sounded... really hot, like that.”
“I think I know what you mean. But you don't want it to just stop there, do you?” He grinned, cupping his hand under Eric's jaw. “You want me to get off, yeah?”
Somehow managing to flush harder, Eric nevertheless nodded vigorously.
“Well... how far do you want to go?” Brandon asked. “If you, well, want to go all the way... there's something we might be able to do together that we wouldn't with most others around here.”
“Oh?” Curiosity pushed past embarrassment, and Eric gave him a quizzical look.
Brandon chuckled, reaching down. “Because in most races, this,” he tapped the root of his cock, “is up here, instead.” His fingertip circled around his balls and came to rest just above them. “C'mon, we're gonna need more room for this than there is on the bed.”
Confused but intrigued, Eric followed him, watched him pull a blanket out of the closet, and helped him lay it on the floor. It was a bit excessive, really - it could probably cover a king-size bed. But that meant that even folded double for extra thickness, it still presented quite a large space to lie on.
When Brandon pulled out a bottle of lube, Eric swallowed. “You, uh... you want to... do it, right?” Despite the hesitation, there was still that thrilling note of eagerness in his voice.
“That's right,” Brandon confirmed. “Unless you don't think you're ready, or interested, or...”
“No, no,” Eric blurted. “I am. I just... uh, who's gonna be... well... on top?”
At this, Brandon stretched out on the blanket - not as comfortable as the bed, no, but better than falling off the edge of it. He grinned up at the other youth, pushing down on the base of his cock until it was pointing right down along his tail; a stretch, but not an uncomfortable one. “How 'bout both of us?”
Confused, Eric nonetheless answered Brandon's beckoning gesture, shivering and bucking into Brandon's lube-slick fingers. And he lay down on the bed at Brandon's direction, too, facing the other way - both in terms of which way his head was pointing, and which way his chest was. He held himself down like Brandon had done, and after making sure the stretch wasn't uncomfortable for him, either, Brandon gave his own cock a few slippery strokes and started to ease in closer.
It was awkward. They had to get their legs around each other, and their tails weren't inconsiderable barriers either. But from the first moment Brandon felt the slim tip of Eric's curving, tapered cock pressing under the root of his, it was so worth it.
Eric was a big boy, too. Brandon must have pushed an inch or so onto that rigid spire before his own tip nudged under Eric's tail. Push down a bit harder on his cock to get it in just the right place, and...
“Oh, God,” Eric whimpered.
Brandon strained to look down at Eric, though the position didn't really give him a good look at the other boomer's expression. “If you need me to stop...”
“Oh, God, no,” came the suddenly vehement reply.
Well. If Eric didn't mind having Brandon slip into him, that was fine. In fact, that was delightful. Because Brandon didn't want to stop until every hot inch of that curvy length was buried inside him. He squirmed his way down, each motion making that cock stir under his tail, making his own cock slip about in the other youth's snug tunnel. And even once they were rump to rump, he strained to push just a little closer, to push in a little deeper, to draw just a tiny bit more of that heat into him.
In that position, they couldn't do much more than squirm against each other, but that was really all they needed. With their cocks bent down as far as they were, each motion delivered a firm stroke right along the entire topside of each shaft. Even when the intensity was enough to make Brandon flinch, that sudden motion just made it surge higher and higher. And then a massive rush swept through him, and he was gasping for each breath, and his cock was bucking in the other boomer's hot body, and his spunk was rushing down it, pumping out of him...
Even as the rush faded, Eric in turn bit back a cry, panting hard and fast. His cock lurched deep under Brandon's tail, and liquid heat seeped into the older man in turn.
As their breaths slowed toward normal, Brandon had enough presence of mind to pull out and off. Even that squirming withdrawal, quick as it was, was almost too intense to bear; but then it was done, and Brandon half-led, half-tugged the other boomer back to the bed. They sprawled atop it again, this time with Eric on his side and Brandon behind him, one hand spread over the grey fur of Eric's chest, right over his slowing heart.
At length, Eric took a deep breath. “Wow,” he sighed. “When was the first time you did that?”
“Just now,” admitted Brandon, with a soft chuckle. “Heard from a guy I know online that he pulled it off, and I've been wanting to try it ever since.”
Eric laughed a little as well, stroking over Brandon's fingers. “Tell him thanks next time you get in touch with him, huh? That was... wow.”
“No kidding.” Brandon squeezed close against Eric's back. “No lie, I don't think I've ever come so hard in my life until right then.”
They shared a chuckle, and drifted off into the gentle silence of afterglow. Silence that, after a time, went contemplative.
Then contemplation turned to worry. Would Eric still enjoy having done this, come morning? Or would the hateful things he'd been told have time to take root and sour the whole thing? Would he think it was wrong?
Should they have done this at all, before getting that mess sorted out?
In the minutes that followed, as Eric's breaths took on the staccato rhythm of crying, as tears dampened his fur, Brandon's fretting started to take firmer hold.
But through it all, until the spasms ebbed and his breathing settled into the gentle swells of sleep, Eric never once let go of Brandon's hand.
And so long as Eric wanted his company, Brandon had no intention of letting go, either.
Whoever might say otherwise... this was the right thing to do. It couldn't be anything else.