Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2272851.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M, Other
  Fandom:
      Calvin_&_Hobbes
  Relationship:
      Calvin/Hobbes
  Character:
      Calvin_(Calvin_and_Hobbes), Hobbes_(Calvin_and_Hobbes)
  Additional Tags:
      Bestiality, Kinda, Friendship/Love, First_Time, Camping, Hand_Jobs, 16
      year_old_Calvin, Anthropomorphic, Podfic_Welcome
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-09-08 Words: 2863
****** No Tiger Left Behind ******
by queensusan
Summary
     What happened to Hobbes when Calvin grew up? This story explores
     their changing relationship as they age and how Calvin takes Hobbes
     with him into adulthood. *Calvin/Hobbes sexual relationship, please
     don't read if this idea offends you*
Notes
     This story is inspired by Random_Nexus' delightful Calvin/Hobbes
     series. Mine's not a part of her storyline and I think it stands on
     its own, but it was very inspired by her world and ideas. I was so
     intrigued by her series and she proposed questions in her story that
     stayed with me and sparked my imagination (as the very best stories
     do!). How did Calvin and Hobbes' relationship become sexual? How does
     Calvin reconcile Hobbes existence when others can't see him? How does
     he find a way to keep Hobbes a part of his life when the world can't
     understand a teenager with a stuffed animal? How did Hobbes' body
     change to become more humanoid? This is my interpretation of the
     answers to those questions.
  This work was inspired by
      Congratulatory_Pounce by Random_Nexus
"God, finally," Calvin moaned in relief as he and Hobbes collapsed down onto
the soft embrace of the sleeping bag. They had to lie close to fit comfortably
on it, even though he was sweating from his efforts to erect the tent in the
low, humid late summer air.
"We'd have finished ten minutes ago if you hadn't been such a bonehead," he
groused, recalling Hobbes' playful, unhelpful mood and how he'd done his best
to turn everything into a game as they'd set up their campsite for the weekend
on their own.
A reluctant smile tugged at Calvin's mouth and he felt the tension that had
been building up all week release from his shoulders a little. It felt like all
the time now the only thing he wanted to do was get away to the welcoming
isolation of the woods, where he could finally be alone with Hobbes. Be
himself.
Calvin felt the warm pad of a paw on his chin and his head was turned towards
his friend. He kept his eyes closed but he could feel the warm, moist kiss of
Hobbes' breath on his face.
"You're thinking again, Calvin. It looks painful."
Calvin cracked an eye open and shot Hobbes a narrow look, only to find Hobbes'
face contorted up bizarrely, mocking Calvin's painstaking cognitive function.
"Is thinking a crime?"
"It is when you think about what you're thinking about," Hobbes said simply,
and, expression falling, his paw slid down now to rest gently on Calvin's
throat. The tips of his claws brushed against Calvin's jaw, but it was
comforting, not threatening. He couldn't help burrowing a little into fingers,
so that his cheek was pressed against Hobbes' knuckles.
"I try not to," Calvin said, unable to look at Hobbes. But, oh, how much easier
it had been when he was six. Sixteen brought too much reality to his
relationship with his best friend.
Hobbes curled closer, bringing the other arm around now to press against
Calvin's thin chest. He nuzzled against Calvin's cheek, his whiskery face
tickling and making Calvin squirm and giggle. "Does this feel like a figment of
your imagination?" he asked, and then licked a broad stripe up Calvin's face.
Calvin made a show of protesting and trying to shove Hobbes off, but he only
put his arms firmly around his friend to hold him tightly. "Tiger slobber!" he
howled in mock disgust.
"You like it," Hobbes said airily and Calvin shivered a little, knowing it was
true Hobbes gave a few more licks and growls before pulling away far enough to
look in Calvin's face. "You're still thinking."
Calvin sighed and looked away, staring through the sides of the tent. "I
just... I know this is real, but... how?"
Hobbes gave the long sigh of someone who had been explaining a subject for many
years, and likely would be for many years yet. "We've gone over this,
Calvin..." he said wearily, but Calvin just looked back pleadingly at him.
Hobbes sighed. "I'm real, Calvin, because you made me real. I exist because you
brought me into existence. Without you I'd be a stuffed animal, but with you
I'm alive. You gave me life."
Calvin wanted to believe Hobbes, with everything in his heart, but reality had
a way of turning his faith into fear, and the older he grew the more difficult
it had become to ignore. "But... you know that makes you sound like you're part
of my imagination. I still don't understand it, Hobbes."
Hobbes stroked his furry thumb over Calvin's throat lovingly. "You're special,
Calvin. You can do things other kids can't. You've got more power in here," he
said, gently knocking a knuckle against Calvin's temple, "than the President of
the United States has in his whole government. You could have created anything,
if you'd put your mind to it, but you chose me. You needed me, and I needed
you. As long as you still want me, I will live. If you stop needing me, I'll
cease to exist."
"NO!" said Calvin sharply, sitting up a little in fear. "No, please, Hobbes,"
he begged, fingers flying out to grip into Hobbes' short fur. "I'll never stop
wanting you. I can't live without you, either."
Hobbes gathered him up into a warm, furry embrace and they comforted each
other. Niggling doubts surfaced again, though, as they always did. Having,
perhaps, the world's most unique imagination also meant that it was difficult
for Calvin to turn it off. But then, Hobbes had always been the steadying one
in their friendship. "But..." he said after a while. "It's like you're my
slave, then, Hobbes. Do you even want to be here? Wouldn't you rather be... I
dunno, in Africa, chasing zebras? Am I stopping you from doing what you want?
If I made you, are you even capable of wanting what I don't want? Are you me?"
Hobbes gave a warm, deep chuckle that shifted his shoulders under Calvin's
arms. "Calvin, use that brain of yours for once. I often want things you don't
want, don't I? Think how boring our lives would have been if we'd always
agreed. I've told you. You created me, but you made me a unique entity. I'm
part of you in a way , but I'm my own being. I have thoughts and feelings that
are not yours or yours to control. I exist. You are my creator, not my master.
And I'm using my independence to inform you that there is no other place in the
world I'd rather be than in this tent with you."
"So you're... like my son? My brother?"
Hobbes had to bend double to laugh now. "Oh, you can go boil your head if you
think I'm calling you 'Dad.'"
Calvin shoved his shoulder and lay back down.
Hobbes, incredibly perceptive as always, leaned onto his elbow and watched
Calvin knowingly. "You're looking for holes in my reasoning already. You're
wondering why I look like a stuffed animal to everyone else, if I truly exist.
You're wondering if you really are crazy and this entire conversation is you
talking to yourself. Here, I can prove it. I know something you don't know."
Every fiber of himself wanted to believe Hobbes was real. He'd even be
satisfied if he was imagining it, if only he could keep Hobbes by his side
forever without fear of him disappearing, but the uncertainty of not knowing
was slowly driving him more insane than usual, and it only got worse as they
got older. “What?”
"Your Mom saw me in your backpack. You left the can opener on the counter and
she opened it up to put it inside when you were putting your shoes on, and she
saw me. She's seen me in your backpack for a while now, though I never told
you. At first she thought it was cute, but you're sixteen now. She's beginning
to be worried by how much time you spend alone with just a 'stuffed animal'- or
so she thinks. She and your Dad are happy that you've matured so much in other
ways, but they're finding it difficult to believe your unwillingness to
socialize with other children is healthy. I think they're considering therapy."
Calvin sat up straight in alarm. "Therapy!" he yelped. "Hobbes! Why didn't you
say anything sooner? I could have been sneakier."
"I'm sorry, Calvin," Hobbes said sadly. "I was selfish. I didn't want you to
stop spending time with me."
Calvin's eyes narrowed. "I'll never let them keep us apart," he snarled, his
imagination firing up immediately as he began to plan. They could run away-
catch a train heading to Colorado and live in a cave, wearing loin cloths and
cooking rabbits Hobbes would catch over a fire.
Hobbes pushed his knee gently. "Stop, Calvin. They're only doing what they
think is best. They love you and want you to be a healthy adult."
Hobbes had always been the wise one. Calvin put his head in his hands and
thought desperately. He couldn't go to therapy! What if they did something to
his head, made him unable to do things with his mind that he could now? What if
he lost Hobbes? "What do I do?"
Hobbes sat up and faced Calvin, his expression unusually sober. "I've been
thinking about this for a while and I have a plan. You're sixteen. In just two
years you'll be eighteen. We'll get our own place and we'll be able to spend
all our time together. We won't have to hide. But now you've got to... do some
pretending. You're good at that."
His spirits soared, as they always did when the two of them plotted. With
Hobbes nothing felt impossible. "What kind of pretending?"
"You need a girlfriend," Hobbes said firmly, and Calvin's shoulders slumped.
"A girlfriend?" he wailed. A little part of him was still not sure girls didn't
have cooties.
Hobbes rolled his eyes. He'd always been more interested in the female sex than
Calvin had been, though all Calvin had ever heard of his experience had been
some vague allusions to smooching in the even vaguer period of time before
they'd met. Calvin wasn't even entirely certain Hobbes had technically existed
before he'd created him, for that matter, though Hobbes claimed to have had
many experiences in that mysterious pre-Calvin time. It made his brain hurt to
think about it.
"Yes, calm down, a girlfriend. A pretend girlfriend, mind. Take her out to a
movie on the weekends, take her to prom, give her a smooch on her porch when
you drop her off home. That sort of thing."
Calvin stared at Hobbes unhappily. "A smooch?" he groaned. "Is that all, or do
I have to do more?"
Suddenly Hobbes' bright black eyes flashed dangerously, reminding Calvin that
though these days he looked as much like a man as a tiger, he still had the
spirit of a wild animal when roused. "No!" he said sharply. "Kissing, that's
all. And whatever you do, you can't fall in love with her. You always have to
remember that you're doing this for a reason."
Before Calvin could do more than lean away from Hobbes' unexpected ferocity,
Hobbes pushed forward with his arms on either side of Calvin's hips so that he
was suddenly nose to nose with Calvin. "I'm yours, Calvin, but it goes both
ways. That means you're mine too."
Calvin's heart was beating at triple the normal rate now. Hobbes' body heat was
pressing around him and his eyes flicked down to his mouth. "Hobbes?" he asked
shakily, and to his surprise Hobbes moved in a little closer. Unconsciously his
hands rose to touch Hobbes' chest, to feel the muscles under his layer of
smooth, short fur.
"Calvin," Hobbes said in a low growl. "Why do you think I look like this? Why
do think my appearance has changed over the years, as you've changed?"
It was true, Calvin knew. When he'd been a child Hobbes had been a living
version of a stuffed tiger, cuddly and mostly nonthreatening, appropriate for a
six year old. As he'd aged Hobbes had grown more ferocious, more like a real
tiger when Calvin had found all things terrible and fierce cool. As he'd moved
past childhood and into adolescence Hobbes had undergone his most startling
change of all, his body morphing from tiger and into some strange hybrid of man
and beast, like a human skeleton with a tiger skin stretched over it. His face
was still tigerish and he had claws, fur and a tail, but his frame was
humanoid. It should have been awkward and repulsive, but it wasn't. Calvin
thought Hobbes embodied the best of both species, with his lithe, muscular
physique and tawny, beautiful fur.
They hadn't discussed the whys and wherefores of his transformation in depth.
Mostly Calvin had just appreciated Hobbes as he was without questioning why.
Now he had no answer to Hobbes' question.
"Because this is what you want me to look like," Hobbes said with satisfaction,
his sharp teeth closing swiftly around the words. "This is what you desire.
And, if I may be so bold to say so, I really can't blame you. You have
excellent taste."
"Hobbes," Calvin breathed, and he knew his face was flaming red with alarm and
reluctant arousal. A part of him, a part he did his best to ignore every day,
did desire Hobbes, in a way that didn't feel wrong but did feel new and
uncomfortable.
As if Hobbes could read his mind, his eyes grew heavy and his tiger mouth
curled up into a human smile. "Calvin," he purred, and it sent pleasure
straight down from his ears to his cock. Calvin's head tipped back and his eyes
closed unconsciously. "I know you think about me when you touch yourself."
Calvin moaned and shook his head a little, but he couldn't deny it. He'd been
masturbating covertly under the blankets for years now after Hobbes had fallen
asleep, and though he'd known there was a good chance his friend had overheard
him sometimes, in an unusual show of respect Hobbes had never mentioned it. It
had been one activity the two of them never shared, and as far as Calvin was
aware Hobbes had no sexuality of his own, beyond occasional misty eyes over
'babes.' But that hadn't stopped Calvin from dreaming of Hobbes, of his
graceful body and smooth skin. He imagined touching Hobbes in places he never
did, between his legs where his testicles hung proudly below the sheathed shaft
of his prick.
"I lie awake and listen to you, imagining it was my hand on you instead. How
you'd whimper and moan in my ear and pull my fur. I think about fucking you,
pushing your legs wide and sinking right into your little hole until you scream
my name."
"Hobbes!" he gasped in shock, but he was panting now and the hands he'd pressed
to Hobbes' chest were grasping and kneading desperately. His hips were jerking
and trembling against his will. Hobbes was so close to him. "Hobbes, yes," he
whined, beyond caring what was real or right, caring only about right now.
Hobbes was on him in an instant, clever fingers pushing and yanking his clothes
down and aside so he could climb over and cover his slim, bare body with his
larger, muscular frame. Calvin's legs spread instinctively so that his thighs
clamped around Hobbes' warm sides. The fur was smooth but when Hobbes moved
between his tender thighs it rubbed and tickled. Hobbes buried his face in
Calvin's shoulder, licking and biting softly at his skin while his hips thrust
down against him. Calvin was startled and delighted to feel a slick, hard prick
pressing up against his own cock.
"Hobbes," he gasped, and wrapped his legs snugly around his waist so his could
pull him closer. "I didn't know you could-" he said, but trailed off,
uncharacteristically shy.
"Oh yes," Hobbes purred and gave Calvin what he wanted, shifting to thrust
smoothly down onto him and sending fireworks of pleasure shooting out in
trembling pulses from his groin. "Just never in front of you. I thought you
were too young."
Calvin moaned and thrust up to meet his friend. "And now?"
"Now you're just right," Hobbes murmured and reached a hand down between them.
The soft, warm pads of his paws snugged around his cock, claws carefully
hidden, and within two smooth pumps of his wrist Calvin was crying out and
coming, head thrown back and mouth parted in shocked pleasure.
Calvin fell limp afterward, shuddering in the aftershocks while Hobbes stroked
him gently through it. When Calvin cracked open an eye he found Hobbes above
him, looking as pleased and smug as it was possible for him to look. His prick
was still hard and red, glistening with pre-cum between his thighs. Although
his testicles and the sheath were lightly furred, the wet looking cock that
stood out proudly was smooth and thick. The head was a little longer and more
tapered than a human's but it was similar enough Calvin felt confident he knew
how to please it. Calvin's palms itched to touch, but he wasn't sure if he was
allowed.
Hobbes solved the problem by grasping Calvin's limp wrist and bringing his hand
to his cock. It was all the encouragement he needed. He threw himself into it,
pumping his tight fist over Hobbes until the tiger was shivering and contorting
in a feline fashion, writhing with pleasure. His breath was hot against
Calvin's temple, his sharp teeth bared around his gasps. When he came he did so
with a roar that was part human and part animal and it sent thrills of arousal
that reverberated through Calvin.
"I thought you wanted to fuck me," Calvin said when Hobbes had collapsed back
on top of him, his lean, muscular body quivering and heaving with his breaths.
Already Calvin's young cock was stirring, getting ready to go again.
Hobbes gave a long, growling groan. "That and more," he said, part threat, part
promise, and all love.
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