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"What'd you say his name was? Brandon?"

"Brent." Harley reached over and patted my leg, other paw remaining on the wheel with his muzzle directed forward. After the semester ended, things really seemed to wrap up and come together nicely: with the stress of finals no longer on our backs, I could almost literally sit back and watch the tension drain out of his muzzle, especially on days like this where we did nothing but wake up together, hang out for a bit, then do something and be done with our day. "Jeez. I never realized you had such trouble with names."

This time, we were coming back from the store with some stuff while we spent the weekend at his dad's place. A month and a half out of school, and I still hadn't gotten his name.

"So could I - could I just, like, call him Mr.-"

"Ha! No, no, no. He-" The coyote reached forward with that paw to turn the radio down. Outside the sun shone bright and warm, bathing everything in lovely white light... though it did mean that we both had to keep our visors down. Sun-staring isn't something I'd really want to make a habit out of. "-he's told me before, and I think you, too, over dinner that one night-"

"-when we went to Bready Or Not?"

"Yeah. Anyway, he's told both of us that-"

"You know, I really liked the soup I got there..."

"Will you let me finish what I'm saying?"

I leaned over and grinned widely at him. "Oh, come on. I know you're not into that. I always let you finish- ow! Hey! Don't hit me."

"It was a love tap."

"I think your claw scratched me..."

Harley glanced over a few times, towards the spot I rubbed at on my shoulder. "Ah. Jeez. I'm sorry. Do you - do you want me to kiss it?"

"No! Not while you're driving. Haven't we been over this?"

Then, he did one of his little playgrowls that we recently (read: within the past month) discovered really worked me up, if he did it right in my ear and especially right as we were climbing into bed to sleep. "Christ. As I was saying. He's told both of us that he wants you to think of him as family. You don't call your mom Mrs. Lane, do you? -Don't answer that. I know you don't. Same idea. He's not home often, so I figured we could take this chance to go and hang out with him, y'know?"

To tell the truth, we had talked about this before. If only I could tell all of the things that had already happened since the end of the semester and then start of the following... Mom finally pushed me to go and do something with myself, so I found an internship at the local branch of the library, that would later turn to a full position there. Then there was the path to get my license, start to finish in about two weeks after that, and then suddenly a nearby neighbor puts their car up for sale... and as per my urging, Harley went and got himself a job to give himself something to do with his time other than sit at home alone for days on end, or lounge around at my place. It was at the tea place in the mall - I think I've mentioned it before. He came home with promotional samples all the time, and though I never have been a fan of that kind of thing, there's just a certain kind of pleasure in seeing his tail wag and watching him unable to stop smiling and humming to himself when he makes a cup for both of us.

One time he spilled the water on me, and after a brief scramble and panic from him all throughout which I'd tried_to tell him that I was okay, he got a bit distracted with lapping the water out of my fur, the little movements of his tongue making me squirm and giggle. You can probably imagine what _that led to.

And then there was Mom. After I told her what all had happened and developed between us, Mom used to say no sleeping in the same bed... but then would never back it up or check on us. Just something she knew she had to say, though we all knew that we were adults, and we also all knew that we wouldn't be doing anything we hadn't already. She just didn't want to admit that, I don't think.

Eventually, she started asking when he'd be coming over next, what he'd like to have for dinner, if he'd like to go out to see a movie or something. I think she got lonely with the sudden change in routine: all the summers for all the years of my life before, I was there under that roof, always present. And then suddenly I'm gone for most of the day, sometimes earlier than she had to leave, sometimes later than she got back, sometimes on weekends too - since, of course, weekends are busy times for the library. She was just happy to see things in life moving along.

We all were. Something else, too: it had been a bit of an adventurous endeavor, one that neither of us really expected to come to anything, but after asking both of our parents if they'd be willing to put forward a little money to help us get started on renting an apartment closer to campus... well. Here, as we made our way to Harley's dad's house on a long weekend halfway through the second month of the semester, we each had another key dangling from our keychains.

Harley spun the wheel to turn onto his dad's street. Up until when we got the whole apartment thing settled, I'd ended up coming here more than a few more times, due to the pleasant and much-needed private time with this coyote that we couldn't afford when back at home with Mom. It really takes having some time apart - as in, each of us out at work all day on weekdays, and only seeing each other afterwards - to appreciate getting some time together, climbing into bed, waking up together...

...even if I usually did have to wipe his drool off my shoulder, chest, belly, or otherwise. We'd never made each other late, but we have gotten close a few times.

"We did get everything, right?" For a quick moment, he flashed bright green eyes over at me. "Milk, juice, ground beef, chips, those cookies you like..."

"Wait, you grabbed those?"

"What? You said you like them. So I got them."

"Aww." This time, it was my turn to pat his leg. He settled his paw down over mine and squeezed. "You're too sweet to me."

"Actually - actually, you have told me a few times that I'm a bit bitter, and need to cut back on the dairy..."

"Oh my God. Focus on driving."

However, Harley threw the car into park and pulled the key out, holding the button for a second longer so the trunk popped. Then, like so many other times, he turned and grinned at me. "We're here."

It had been a good few weeks since we'd last found the time and energy to come out here to visit, but the house still welcomed us after the coyote got the door open. Still had that quiet, cool shade hovering around inside, the faint mixed scent of one familiar coyote and one other slightly-less-familiar one, that kind of... warm, dry spice, you know? Maybe not. It's a bit hard to describe. This house still had everything that made me feel like it was another home of my own, and I guess in a way - and as Harley and his dad enforced - it was. Still is.

"Dad?" Harley called out into the quiet, broken by our footsteps on the tiled floor of the entryway and the unavoidable rustling of plastic bags hanging from our arms. I followed him into the kitchen close by, and rested everything on the granite countertop. "You here? It's me and Dan!..." Then, quieter and directed to me: "Maybe he's asleep. He _does_have to drive a long way to get home."

"You know-" Double-bagged milk, cookies shoved in with the chips, ground beef and a few other things... I pulled them out of the bags, and Harley distributed them to their proper areas. "I don't think you've ever explained to me just what it is that keeps him away from home all the time. I - thought I'd asked, but I never could find the right time..."

"Oh, yeah. Yeah." Milk in the fridge, juice also in the fridge, cereal in the pantry, cookies in the - wait, cookies don't go in the fridge. Harley caught his mistake right before he closed the door, and shot a sheepish grin my way. "He's, like... a contractor for a drilling and asbestos company, I think? They do some other stuff, too. But it keeps him jumping from site to site all around the place."

"Drilling and asbestos?"

"Yeah."

"The hell does that even mean?"

He shrugged. "Dude. Ya got me. That everything?"

"Yeah, I think so... now that you're here, what do you wanna do-"

But Harley had grabbed my wrist and started leading me out of the kitchen before I'd even finished. The way he walked, how his tail remained out behind him and tickled at the side of my belly with its swaying, how his ears stood upright... this was how he got whenever we ended up spending time apart from one another, like if I took a late shift or if one of his classes required him to stay after-hours.

Harley's work ethic had improved dramatically since the end of last semester, and everything that had happened leading up to there. Maybe it was just because I took all morning classes, so I was getting up at the same time every single morning, but - I don't think he's ever been late or missed one of his this semester, so far. Also, he's noticeably been putting in extra work and trying harder to get better grades and to make up for things he'd missed: when I first met him in history class those few months ago, he hadn't yet declared his major. Before the start of _this_semester, he'd put in the paperwork to switch to world history... and then after the second wave of exams, let me know that he was planning to take on geography for a double-major in the upcoming spring period. I couldn't put into words how proud I was of him.

Anyway. As we passed through the living room, the quiet droning rumble of his dad snoring on the couch repeatedly lifted up into the air, pinched off, started up again. It made me chuckle, honestly: I couldn't help but imagine Harley in that same place and pose in like twenty years (though I still have no real idea how old his father is), muzzle leaned back with maw open and pink tongue half-hanging out, tail limp beside him... but of course, the present Harley continued tugging me along, and soon we'd made our way into the hallway and, from there, towards his bedroom at the end.

There was his bedroom, door standing ajar, and the bathroom right next to it. From the hallway you could see the wall mirror above the sink, white countertop with a shiny chrome faucet. There was no rug, and the curtain had been drawn in front of the shower. With the light turned off, the only illumination to see by came in through the rooms on either side of the hallway, filtering in alongside the threshold at a bit of an angle...

Harley brought me into his bedroom, and closed the door behind us. We'd stopped off at the apartment before coming out here, and had dropped all of our school stuff off back there; still, though, it brought some kind of nostalgia to be here again and see everything exactly as it had been last semester. Felt like so long ago when it had hardly been six months.

He settled his paws on my hips and leaned in close, touching his nose to mine so that I could feel his gentle, warm exhalations of breath, tickling through my whiskers and the fur of my muzzle. Before he started speaking, he closed the distance between our lips in a quick peck, and smiled. Oh, how I wanted to tug him right back against me, and stretch that kiss on for longer... but, we'd get another chance soon enough.

"God," he drawled, with another kiss. His paws made their way up along my sides, briefly lifting my shirt before he rested his arms around my shoulders. "How long's it been? Six - seven months?"

"Seven... I think." With those arms around me and Harley grinding his hips forward against mine, I had no choice but to follow his silent urging and make my way back towards the bed, until the edge of the mattress touched against the backs of my legs. The coyote remained in front of my for a moment, before a little bit of force on my shoulders pushed me down. "I've gotta take Calculus 2 next semester. I need to be sure I can still count."

"Seven months. That's not very long, is it?"

I brought my paws up to start fiddling with the fly of his pants, just in front of my muzzle... but before I could get too far, Harley had lowered his down to assist me. Already I could feel the sweet heat emanating from his body through the fabric, and when first his jeans fell away, with his boxer-briefs to follow... I looked up at him, I leaned in, I touched my nose to the warm fur at the base of his shaft. "It took Acceleron_seven months to come out with its first patch, and _that felt like it took forever."

"Hey." Gentle paw on the back of my head, as I'd felt so many times before. A slow, soft inhalation, tasting this coyote's musk, bringing it in... and, of course, I could feel my own pants tighten. Every nuzzle, each touch of my nose or lips along the underside of his length, resulted in a tightening of that paw on my head and a little buck forward of his hips. "Are you complaining?"

"Maybe it was a bad comparison. Is this_what you wanted so much to show me?" One paw lifted up underneath his hanging sack, the other at the base of his shaft - and I pressed my lips up against the rim of his foreskin, warm and slightly slick with arousal. Just as always, it was easy to slide my tongue in underneath that skin, to swirl it around and bring his taste into my maw alongside his scent, and to feel him tense up underneath the attention. "'Cause, babe, I've seen _this before." Then, I licked my lips, and started to slowly stroke him.

Harley bucked his hips forward into my paw against my rhythm, quickly coming to his full arousal - with his twitching and steady throbbing, the natural movement of his foreskin even underneath my fingers. It was damn hard to keep myself from just diving back down onto him.

"I repeat - are you complaining?" Above me, he flicked his tongue out across his lips, and then spread his legs to come a little closer to me. In response, I leaned back over the mattress a little, and he braced one knee up on the bed next to me... once we'd gotten a little distracted when getting ready for school, and he ended up bent over me with both of his paws braced against the wall behind my head, while he fiercely thrust into my muzzle and then ended up emptying his load right into the back of my throat. He apologized afterwards, but - well. I hadn't told him that on those nights where he had to stay home later, I ended up pawing off while thinking back to that time.

One of those times was twice in a period of, like, twenty minutes. It was just - having his musk rich on my muzzle and nose, feeling the energy and urgency in his body with every thrust, his twitching girth on my tongue and slick foreskin rolling back and forth against the roof of my mouth-

Harley's paw against my shoulder to push me down onto my back took me out of my thoughts, though, and next thing I knew, it was he who was working at the fly of my pants. I lifted up against that paw - and he pressed it right back down against me, making me squirm and pull in a small breath.

"And, no, it's not. I wanted to try something new with you."

Something - new? My mind ran through about thirteen different possibilities. He hadn't discovered my download history, had he? There were still some things that I hadn't yet found the confidence to tell him about... a little yip of surprise worked its way out of my mouth once he yanked my pants down, and pulled me closer to the edge of the bed so that my legs and tail hung off. Then, he knelt down between my legs, and I fully expected him to lean in and run his nose and tongue up along me, to return the favor. However, instead-

-instead, he lifted that nose of his up underneath my sack, took a gentle breath, and then let it out over my tailhole. Warm, gentle exhalation tickling along sensitive skin and short fur, enough to make me shiver and grip at the covers underneath me...

"Harley..."

But he wasn't listening. I could feel him take another breath, and then part his lips to speak - but instead of that, he leaned in and, just like with my muzzle in our kiss, closed that distance. This time, though, it was lips to ridged flesh, tongue gently working against me, slickening me up, dragging over my tailhole. He kept one paw on my rump to keep me spread for his easy access, while the other yanked at my pants to get them off my ankles... and, then, the coyote just pressed his muzzle more firmly up into me, enough to lift me up off the edge a little bit.

The digging pressure of his tongue against and under the rim of my tailhole squeezed a few panting moans out of me, even despite myself. This wasn't the first time I'd had someone bury their tongue under my tail, but Harley... maybe it was just that I loved him so much, or because he was just so good with that tongue, but - my legs wrapped themselves around his shoulders and pulled him up closer to me, so I could grind back against him.

I could feel the churning of his jaw while he worked that tongue against me, repeatedly pressing a little bit further into me, then coming back to drag up along the outside of my tailhole again, and again... I won't lie, I'd definitely thought about doing this to _him_before, and I'd fantasized it. Got close one time, too, when he bent over the side of our bed back at the apartment and hiked his tail for me... if it weren't for him reaching back and tugging my hips forward, I certainly would have fit my muzzle up beneath his tail, just as he did to me now, and set to work. Actually, it was kind of weird that we hadn't done this 'til now...

Whenever he moved back to catch a breath - I could feel that, too, hot panting breaths out against my already-slickened rump, fur matted with hungry saliva. He was being careful at first, seeing how far he could bury his tongue before I clenched around him in response, testing just how much attention I could handle... but of course just as I fell into the rhythm of it, he did, too, and let go of his inhibitions. Then, he had both of his paws on my rump, thumbs close to the rim of my tailhole under his lips to spread me for him, to make it easier for him - while I ran one of my own paws down my body, tensed and throbbed against my arm, took myself in my fingers and started to stroke... he'd already started to make me leak pre, out into the fur of my lower belly. Usually that didn't happen until he'd hilted his length in me.

But, to be clear, I _wasn't_complaining.

How long had he been thinking of this...? I couldn't help but think of him a half-hour ago or so when we were wandering back and forth through the aisles of the grocery store, holding paws, tails brushing against one another... and then, imagining him thinking of yanking my pants down and shoving his muzzle up underneath my tail, setting his tongue up against me, swirling it over the rim of my tailhole, curling it down along the back of my sack as he did now, keeping it moving while he caught his breath... before too long, the coyote had lifted one of his paws away from my rump to squeeze and stroke the base of my shaft under my eager pawing.

I had no doubt that he could feel my enjoyment, too, in little squeezes and clenches around his tongue, and the pressure of my grinding down against his muzzle. It was like - like little muscle shivers all throughout my body, the kind that you feel in your arms right after a workout where you might've pushed yourself a little too hard (which I only knew of because, over the summer, this same damn coyote had urged me to come to the campus rec center with him) except all over, rippling out from each plunge of his tongue. There was the same hot, stretching feeling that I'd become so familiar with after riding him down into the mattress, or feeling him sink into me from behind, or having him pound me into the floor, though this time from his tongue pushing its way into me, reaching as far as he could with his lips firm against my rim.

Everything else had left my mind: worry about his father in the living room at the end of the hall; thoughts about what we'd do for dinner; wondering which movie we'd watch tonight, and what we'd do tomorrow. There was just - broad, slick tongue working its way underneath my tail, keeping me stretched and slick, curling and pressing in all the right places; just his paw massaging my sack and the base of my cock while my own moved quickly over my length, the combination of all of these working me up closer and closer to my peak-

"Ah- ah-"

Right at the last moment, Harley wrapped his paws around my thighs and pulled me as firmly to him as he could - and I hardly had time to tug my shirt up over my chest before I bucked up into the air once, twice, a third time, spurting out across my own belly. Between my legs I could feel the coyote swallow down his slick saliva and then slide his tongue out of me, warm wet slickness of that same drool coming with it. That shivering still shook through my whole body, strong enough that it robbed me of the energy to sit up... but Harley stood up and leaned over me instead, his own still-hard cock twitching against my drained sack, as he leaned down to lick my cheek. I could smell my own musk in his fur.

"I would fuck you right here - God knows you're lubed up enough, but..." And then I got the long, deep kiss I was hoping for, his tongue slick with mixed saliva and arousal. I tugged his head closer to me with a tired paw on his neck, and held him to me for a moment longer as our tongues worked at one another, teased at each other, almost made me want to go again. Harley swallowed and panted gently once we _did_break apart. "...y'know. There's Dad in the next room, and this bed squeaks somethin' crazy..."

So, after lying there for another few moments with his weight and warmth pressing down against me, we both stood up - and I gave his hard cock a good squeeze, which made him grasp on to me a little more firmly - and tried to get ourselves to look like we hadn't just done anything suspicious, and made our way back down the hallway. The coyote and I shared a glance when we saw that the chair his dad had fallen asleep in was no longer occupied... but then shortly heard the rattling of silverware in the kitchen.

Harley gave my paw a squeeze. "Dad?"

Then, that same smooth, cool voice I'd heard by now so many times before: "Oh! Boys! I was wondering when you got back. I guess I - guess I fell asleep... so, what do you say we - get dinner started, and then pop in our movie?" He turned and grinned at us once we'd rounded the corner, his tall ears and whiskers relaxed. If anything, Brent had only appeared to get younger as the months passed: no longer did he have the bags beneath his eyes, the wrinkles at the edges of his mouth. His tail swayed behind him. "What do you wanna watch?"

I felt another squeeze to my paw, and Harley's tail brushed against my leg. "I was thinking - man, what's the name... the one with the kid, who turns out to be the old guy, and he's, like..."

Here, I leaned against his shoulder. His dad's smile widened. "And he turns out to be God or whatever? What's that line of his - and I am Lord and King over my domain, meticulously hand-crafted through the expanse of eternity by your kind?"

"Yeah! Yeah. Seen it before, would love to see it again."

Brent cleared his throat, and then turned back to what he was doing with the stove. "Sure, sounds good. Hey - Danny, could you grab me the salt? It should be - ah, you know where it is..."

Even without saying the name, I recognized the movie that Harley had in mind. It would be the same one that we'd watched (okay, half-watched) that first time he spent the night at my house, when we both discovered how the other felt... hard to believe that that wasn't even a full year ago. Sometimes I did feel like we'd advanced rather quickly in our relationship, but, like... I don't know. Take it as it goes, I guess.

And I loved the way that things were going now.