“Substitution! Ash, come out! You need a breather,” yelled Coach, monitoring another game of whack-bat. Thankfully it was the last one for the day.
Ash hustled over to the sidelines. “What? I’m out? What? I still feel good, Coach. Let me finish this eighth.” He wasn’t sure why he was taken out when he was doing just fine as a twig runner.
Coach wasn’t having it. “No, come on. Step out. Step out. Let’s go.” Ash reluctantly took his place beside him while Kristofferson went to bat.
“Am I getting better, Coach?” asked Ash, eager for any kind of positive feedback.
“Well, you sure as cuss aren’t getting any worse,” said Coach.
“Really? Think I could end up being as good as my dad if I keep practicing?” Ash failed to process Coach’s less than enthusiastic remark.
“Your dad? Your dad was probably the best whack-bat plater we ever had in this school. You don’t want to have to compare yourself to that.”
“No, but I think I have some of the same raw, natural talent, don’t you?”
“You’re improving. Let’s put it like that.” Coach didn’t want to get this kit’s hopes up and ended the conversation there. Besides, how did this black sheep come from a guy who was the whack-bat MVP for so many fox-years? 
Both of them turned to watch the game at paw. Beaver was on the mound and Kristofferson was at bat. He smacked that pinecone with such poise and form that Coach hadn’t seen in quite some time. As each player ran around doing their task, Kristofferson made his way back and asked for his score to be divided by nine. Coach cheered.
“That’s the first time this kid’s ever swung a whack-bat? H really is your father’s nephew, isn’t he?”
Ash was still in awe of how his cousin performed. He could but only stare at the field and respond, “Not by blood. He’s from my mother’s side.” He spat out of habit and saw Agnes standing some ways away holding a sign that simply read “K!”, presumably for Kristofferson. Ash asked her what it stood for and she tried to lie by saying it was for “pep”. She then told him that they were going steady which only frustrated Ash more.
Ash went back to his place by the sidelines next to Coach and ended up not playing for the rest of the period. As Coach called for the game to be over and told everyone to get clean, he called Kristofferson over to compliment his performance. Ash noticed this from the locker room entrance and spat again. Bullcuss. The final school bell chime was heard in the field and that meant the day was over. Ash figured he had no rush to get home and ideally neither did Kristofferson. However, it seemed that Kristofferson had something planned tonight that he wasn’t telling him.
Ash made his way to a stall for some relief. He wanted to wait until the other boys were gone so he didn’t have to deal with them. He also wanted to get Kristofferson alone so they could talk about some things. The juice Coach always kept in the portable cooler made its way through Ash’s system faster than usual so he figured it was better to let it out now than waiting to do it at home or behind a bush. The din of his classmates made it difficult to relax his bladder but he finally did it. As Ash looked through the crack of the stall door, he could just make out Kristofferson washing his paws in just his underwear, bending over just slightly to present the curve of his rump. It wasn’t much, since he still had some growing to do, but Ash thought about placing his paws on those cheeks and venerating them in some way. The thought of licking any part of the hole grossed him out completely but maybe a smooch on each cheek might do the trick. It wasn’t before long that he realized his urine missed the bowl and splashed a little on his white pants. He quickly fixed that and finished peeing. One look at the stains could easily pass as water from the sink and that was the story he would tell should anyone ask. 
Ash left the stall and noticed he was the only one left in the locker room. He washed up and grabbed his stuff from the locker. It made sense that since physical education was the last class of the day, he could just store the books he needed for the weekend’s homework there instead of walking back to his actual locker and then doubling back for home. As he left, he saw Kristofferson talking to Agnes. The mere sight of these two together meant another chance to spit.
“C’mon Kristofferson, let’s go,” said Ash, nearly pulling his cousin’s arm off in the process.
“But.”
“C’mon.”
“Okay, well, goodbye Agnes. Have a good weekend.”
“You too, Kristofferson,” said Agnes.
They walked in silence for a few minutes before Kristofferson said something.
“You know I was talking to Agnes before you rudely interrupted me. She said she told you we were going steady.”
“Yeah, I heard. Not sure why you two even bother to use that term. You could just say ‘We’re dating’ and leave it at that.”
“Why are you so interested in my relationship with her? You’re starting to sound possessive of her. Besides, I heard that remark you made to her about being disloyal and you still haven’t apologized to her.”
“She’ll get over it. Besides, something tells me you’re hiding something.”
Kristofferson sighed. “If this is about spending time with you, we already do that at home. I’m not sure what you’re getting at but I think Agnes is a nice girl and I want to get to know her better.”
“It’s not that. It’s about the food increase. You notice how we suddenly have a bunch of squabs just sitting in the pantry? Not even stored in an icebox. Just sitting there at room temperature? That seems pretty odd.”
“I suppose so.”
“Has my dad told you anything about this?” Ash felt he was close to an answer.
“He talked to me this morning. He said something about having me tag along with Kylie to possibly look at Bean’s property. He wasn’t specific on what else would happen but said that I should do my meditation outside and then follow them shortly after.”
“But you’ll be back, right? You know Bean has a history and you might be captured.” Ash wasn’t near ready to admit that he wanted to spend some intimate time with his cousin but he figured that question was harmless enough. Also, why didn’t dad ask him to come along, his own flesh and blood? Why Kristofferson? Was dad ashamed of his offspring? Ash didn’t blame him entirely. He was too “different” to fit in with any group at home or at school.
“Yeah, I’ll be back but I’m not sure why you’re so worried.” Cuss, Kristofferson was onto him.
“I mean, it’d be a shame if Agnes was suddenly widowed.”
“Widowed? Ash, I’m not married to Agnes. We’re just going steady.”
“Dating.”
“Whatever.”
They arrived at their home, each going their separate ways. Ash went back to the bedroom and was too frustrated to focus on getting homework done. Time to jack it. He hustled up into his bunk and immediately plunged his paw down his pants, not even bothering to take off his clothes. He closed his eyes and got to work.
It didn’t take long for him to remember Kristofferson’s shape from the locker room. Oh cuss, what a shape. He imagined standing behind him and pulling them down. Turn him around and embrace him, sliding his paws down his back and onto his rump, giving them a little squeeze. What if Ash was on his back and Kristofferson did the job of grinding away? That could work.
It’s a shame Ash wasn’t born with a vagina because then he could let his cousin take him from the front. He felt like he was practically there with what he considered was a pitiful excuse for an organ. For now, he saw Kristofferson raise Ash’s legs so that he could enter his tailhole. This method wasn’t covered in that lecture but this might be another way to get pleasure down there. Could he take it, whatever length it was? He wasn’t sure. It might take a bit of work but if it meant being happy, then it would be worth it.
Ash’s strokes weren’t really strokes in the usual sense but rather some stiff tugs. He tried his best not to punch his balls but that took a little practice. Speaking of which, he slipped his other paw into his pants just to feel how full they were. One and then the other, each heavy from the last session. Kristofferson’s should be just as heavy, if not a little more. Ash wouldn’t mind see his cousin’s cock paint him if it meant multiple ropes. The energy that it’d take to produce a load like that would wear him out. It might not be worth cleaning up if it meant resting with him and telling him how well he did. Even some soft kisses.
Cuss, he was very close now. There was no time to take off his pants or boxers. First rope spat out, then the second and third. The stain grew larger with each rope and it stopped. Unfortunately, this stain completely spread across the crotch area on his pants. There was no way he could cover this up, especially with dinner starting soon. A quick change would do it. He tossed off his bottom clothes and swapped them for clean ones. Hopefully mom would have a fresh load of clothes sooner than later because this was his last clean pair. He grabbed the one sports trophy he ever received, albeit it was one from several fox-years ago. Why? Ash felt like his family wasn’t taking him seriously and this trophy should remind them that he is an athlete and most definitely a man regardless of his size and behavior. Nothing should convince them otherwise.