by Zakarrie C
After a last little butt, Jack pulled back and did a wink before swiping a big slurpy lick across Jimjams’ nose. Then the scoundrel turned tail and did scarpering with a wuff. “C’mon!” in any language.
Jimjams’ tongue did lolling in a laugh as he set off after Jack. Scampering with four legs was such a head rush that his foxy self forgot to do concentrating…and may not have noticed that Jack had done stopping. At the garden gate, which caused a sort of crashing into it. A tad.
“Oh fuck…” Jack gruffed. It was most oddsome; Jimjams could not only understand Jack’s sounds, he could…do hearing feelings too. At the same time. It wasn’t like talking human, it was…a language of emotion. Far more fascinating than word-wafflish. Infinitely more intimate.
Jack whimpered when he did snuffling the top of Jimjams’ head. Once he seemed satisfied that nothing was amiss, Jack nudged him again with a huff that declared; “You daft pillock”.
Phin very deliberately glanced down at his own legs, then did regarding Jack’s shorter ones before lifting his tufty brows with a wuffle. “You want to try fandangling these, there’s toomuch of them”.
Jack snorted a chuckle as he did butting Jimjams again, before springing away sharpish. Oooh… Jimjams threw his weight forwards, a wee bit wibbly, but Jack dodged and did whipping around to come at Jimjams from the side, knocking him off his feet. Down he went; legs akimbo, taking Jack with him in a tangle of limbs. Jack had no sooner shot straight back up than done pouncing atop Jimjams for a scramble about in the grass. An exhilarating rough ‘n’ tumble scuffle of snuffs ‘n’ huffs, nipping teeth and flying fur. Intoxicating.
But best…most magical of all? It felt a very lot like four-play to Phin.
69. Jack
The smells saturating the night air had never seemed so heady, but all were eclipsed by the sylvan, cassia-steeped scent that had stolen Jack’s heart. How he’d longed for this moment…fearing it might never come. That he might never find Him, despite some inner certainty insisting that He was out there…somewhere…waiting for Jack to claim him as his own.
Even the breeze seemed to bow to the magnificence of the moment. Jack heard, felt, PJ’s whimper of want thrill through his veins as he turned…to face the destiny Jake had sworn they did not deserve. So, so, sure that fate itself would turn its back on him in disgust; a despair Jack had been drowning in for two years…but the purgatory of waiting was over.
PJ…beyond beautiful…and those eyes; breath-taking when worn by his human self. Now? They were hypnotic, as eternal as they were enchanting. A brown so deep it bled into black, even as it burned amber flame. Like tumbling into molten magma.
There was no trace of regret in PJ’s scent, only love…longing…lust. A happiness as pure, unsullied as his soul. It didn’t matter which form Jake was wearing, just as Jack had known…but Jake was quite capable of miring even the most hopeful of hearts in misery. Particularly on those dark, dread, wallowing-in-whiskey days, when it was like trying to keep a flicker of hope aflame in a boggy marsh. It hadn’t taken Jack long to realise that the only way of dealing with Mr Mope in that sort of mood, was to snap him out of it. Literally. Jake had been surprised that Jack hadn’t done so earlier, but their form had never mattered as much as Jake was hell-bent on believing.
Nevertheless, if he’d convinced himself it mattered, then of course it did, by default. Even if it didn’t. So…letting him spend some time with ‘PJ’ before Jack claimed Phin as their own had felt important. Necessary. Good grief, he was hard work. The fact that Jack’s very own black dog stomped about on two legs had not escaped his notice…
…Nor had the realisation that PJ was still taller than him. What the—? Jack should, by rights, be taller, surely? He’d sired PJ. Someone, somewhere, had a very twisted sense of humour. Bestowing a black-dog human and a half-giraffe mate on Jack really was excessive.
And you wonder why I get so pissed off?
You might have a point.
Hallefuckinglujah.
Are they truly toomuch, or…
As hot as hell?
Oh yes. Shut up for a bit now, I’m busy.
I’d better be able to feel this, or I’m going to be very hacked off. Just sayin’.
If you shut your steak hole, you’ll soon find out.
Humans…who’d have em? Jack thought all of this in the blink of an eye it took to inhale a lungful of scintillating scent. 100% Proof Pure PJ. If Jack was a cartoon creature, then his eyes would have done swirling like whirlpools just before he swooned flat on his back on the grass. Splayed like a jackal-skin rug.
PJ did not flinch from Jack (as Jake still half-feared he might. The loon would be better served by concerning himself with his sanity) when he nudged their noses together. This was only polite after all; it would have been rather forward to just jump him. Most uncourtly behaviour, Jack deserved a rosette for gallantry at the very least. Particularly when the waves of want radiating from PJ—echoing through Jack—suggested he wouldn’t find this unseemly in the slightest. In fact, his pulse rate accelerated to such a pace it was a miracle PJ managed to hold still. Jack leaned in close to nuzzle a silken cheek; fur so soft, its scent as alluring as it was intoxicating. It also transferred itself to his own fur, so he would be able to wear it, carry it with him wherever he went. A thought not even Jake could be embarrassed about, because PJ had felt exactly the same when he’d snuffled their human self, and they knew it. A truth so affirming that Jack couldn’t resist swiping a rather luxuriant lick across PJ’s face with a wink before springing away and scampering off.
“C’mon!” he called over his shoulder and felt an answering rush of exhilaration thrill through PJ as he set off in hot pursuit. If only, he’d stopped just as sharpish…which was Jack’s fault. He should have taken better care to warn PJ he was about to slam the brakes on, but really…since when had running headfirst into a gate been a fine way to come to a halt? Or bouncing off the wall at the bottom of the stairs, for that matter?
Jack was going to need eyes up his arse. A thought that wasn’t going to help him focus on safety matters, that much was certain.
“Oh hell…” he whined, sniffing at PJ’s head. Jack may have known he wasn’t bleeding, but the injury itself had intensified the need to be close, to comfort him, keep him safe. “You daft pillock,” he heard himself gruff.
Jack suspected that he would prefer Jake before he realised that voicing his views was possible. Quite why that hadn’t been bloody obvious in the first place was unfathomable. PJ stared down at his (excessive) legs before turning those magnificent eyes on his own (perfectly proportional) limbs. His implication obvious, even before he huffed:
“You want to try fandangling these. There’s toomuch of them.” PJ’s expression was priceless, too adorable to resist…butting him and springing away.
Flirting, ’fess up.
That would be uncouth. Courting him.
Uncouth? Unlike say…the eyes up his arse focusing issue?
Said snark paled into insignificance when those stargazy eyes lit up like sparklers and PJ leapt at Jack with a joyful woof. He dodged to take PJ out from the flank, leaving impossible legs skittering frantically in an effort to stay on all paws, but it was Bambi-on-ice time again as down PJ went, swiping Jack’s legs from beneath him on the way. Jack scrambled straight back up and threw himself forwards to roll them over in the grass, tussling in an ecstatic tumble of touch, tongues, teeth and furry friction. Two words hammering out a heartbeat in his head; mine-mate…mimate …mimate.
“PJ…” he panted. “Moors…”
The anticipation that blazed through PJ’s being when he scrambled to his paws was as breath snatching as their scuffle had been. Jack launched himself at the gate, arching through the air to land lightly on the scrubby path before shooting off into the trees. He knew PJ was following, he could hear, smell, feel his presence fast catching up, there was no need to check.
The dash to the moors was effervescence itself. It was bliss
to indulge the simple joy of finally being free to run with the fur ruffling wind, to revel in the exhilarating pulse of power through his body and feel the earth beneath his paws. Best of all, to be running with PJ at his side…to share this night with his mate…at last. To feel the rapturous rush that wasn’t his own—incalculably intense all the same—staggering, even as an echo thrilling through Jack. Toomuch for one person to endure alone.
No longer. Every fibre of Jack’s being exalted in the physical exertion, free at last, liberated from the fathomless agony of human love…confounding creatures. Complicating everything. It was as pure and simple as spring water. Jack was PJ’s. PJ was his. It was binding, absolute, as inescapable as it was irrevocable…and as eternal as those enchanting eyes.
Every beat of Jack’s heart was pounding with raw, primal need. A lust too feral for the veneer of civility Jake clung to. Stripped back to the bone-deep desire to claim PJ as his own…to imprint himself indelibly: heart, mind, body, soul. Mate… Mine.
70. PJ
Running…running with the fur-ruffling wind, paws pounding a heartbeat tattoo. Jack…glorious in full-flow; his glossy coat rippling over lean muscle and sinewy strength, Starlite eyes luminous in the darklight.
It only took a few minutes to do scampering up to the moors. His legs might have been a bit lollopy, but they sure did speeding along with nary a care for the uphill incline. Jimjams felt sure he could do skittering up the side of a mountain without getting puffed out, unless he p’raps had a mishap and did falling off a ledge on the way to the summit.
“Y’okay?” Jack wuffed, tongue lolling in a big grin as they did bounding over some standing stones marking the edge of the moor.
“Yeah…” Their gazes locked; twinned in topaz—amber and blue—twinkling with anticipation. Jack radiated exhilaration after their run, exuding scents so luscious, Jimjams longed to do lapping them. His whole self was so full of fizzy static, he could scarce do waiting…a thought swiftly usurped by a flash of fear that made PJ’s heart do stuttering with a surge of panic.
“What’s wrong…?” The tinny tang of concern tainted Jack’s niff when he skidded to a halt.
“I’m just…worried you’ll be disappointed, after waiting so long.” PJ panted, stones skittering hither ’n’ thither when he did jamming the brakes on.
“PJ…” Jack did nudging Jimjams’ face with his nose. “That’s impossible. You know I’ve never done this, so I can’t say for sure but, you’re…mine. How could it not be right?”
“Jack…please do making me yours…properly.” PJ made his gaze as imploring as possible, hoping it might do expressing what was too much for words, but Jack knew how he felt. Speech sounds were superfluous.
“Grrrr…” Jack’s low rumble of thunder noise made Jimjams feel a smidge squiffy when his temperature did spiking as if it was shrieking scarlet. Jack’s scent intensified; growing richer, stronger, so laden with musk that the squiffiness soared to punch drunk.
“Jack…”
“Mine…” he growled when he started to do slinking along the length of PJ’s body in a scintillating slither of fur on fur. Once he’d done prowling that side, Jack did a hairpin bend around his Jimjam bum to brush along his left flank. When Jack drew level, he did ghosting his nose across PJ’s ear. “I love you,” he breathed. The joy that did coursing through PJ’s body was so staggering it might have been too much for his human self to do containing.
Phin had believed he’d done hallucinating Jake’s words in his hazy half-rememberings before finally surrendering to the shift. So sure, they’d been far too impossible to be true. A lingering conviction that made Jimjams do telling Jack; “You must be very bonkers, but I still love you too.”
“Then lie down…” Jack bade him, bedazzling blues agleam with mischief in mind.
Blimey. Jimjams’ eyeballs all but did falling out of his head. The flash of lust that flared through his system sent all four legs so wibbly they almost followed orders before PJ could do folding them up to lower himself to the scrubby grass.
This had never even done crossing Phin’s mind; so jam-packed with pervy possibilities it was staggering that Jack had pulled off such a feat. Jimjams might be new to all this but try as he might, he could only rustle up one reason for Jack telling him to do lying down.
Once PJ had done just that and rolled onto his side, Jack bent to nudge his left hind leg—resting atop his right—aside with his nose. That didn’t seem sufficient, so Jimjams shifted it a mite more, swinging it butterfly wings wide, which p’raps looked a smidge flagrant, it must be admitted. Ah well, having inhibitions had never been his very best thing and turning furry certainly hadn’t bestowed any on him. A bit of a no brainer when he was now scampering about, letting it all hang out with a fancy-free cock.
Streewth…When Jack dipped his head to do snuffling, it sent huffles of breath wafting across the shiny pink lollipop impression he was sporting. It was looking doubtful whether it would ever do fitting back inside his furry foreskin again. Jack didn’t seem to mind either way, as he promptly swiped it with a lick so luxuriant, Jimjams did jolting about three foot off the ground. It sure felt that way, even though he hadn’t done measuring.
It was a sluice of moist heat so brain-blitzing, his brain seemed torn between blowing up and doing melting out of his ears. Lap-lap-lappity-lap. Zonk. He wasn’t going to last five seconds, unless he did bursting into flames before those had elapsed. Jimjams’ whimpery noises sounded as if someone had done treading on his tail…but even those were drowned out by the slurp-fest lavished on his not-so-private parts.
“Jack…stop…” PJ gasped, when he couldn’t do holding on any longer.
“Noooo…” he slurred, somehow.
Jimjams was past caring about anything, let alone shapeshifter speechifying. Jack was slurping his cock. He was going to do combusting. All too soon. Now, in fact.
“Ahwwooo!” Jimjams p’raps let rip with that racket when the heavens did exploding in a starburst cascade of white-light-heat and a blitz of bliss barnstormed his body.
Ooohhh…When PJ did prising his lids apart, he had to blink the hazy daze away before he could do focusing. On Jack. Just inches away; the blue ablaze with such staggering want, it could prob’ly do willing the world to stop turning. He also looked an itty bit…spattered, as if he’d been decorated with silvery trails of tinsel strands. Oops.
“Y’okay?” Okay…? Other than feeling a very lot like his own charred corpse, Jimjams had never felt so fiiine. Although he wasn’t sure whether his legs would ever do working again.
“Hmmm…” PJ sighed, letting his tongue do lolling out and his eyes roll back in his head.
“You sure you’re not disappointed?” The topaz twinkled knowingly as Jack wuffed a chuckle.
“I just…Was worried I might do letting you down.”
“Impossible…” When Jack did nudging their noses together, he whiffed so strongly of Phin’s foxy self that a wave of warm wonderment shimmered through his afterglow.
“Jack, can I do sl—?”
“Later…” Jake interrupted, his gaze agleam with dark promise when he added “Now…I intend to make you mine.”
71. Jack
Nothing Jake had experienced as a jackal made Jack expect mating to feel less sublime than human sex with Phin, when his senses had been enhanced in every way. Not least when Jack knew that the deed he’d done to PJ felt mind-blowing. Well, really, who could resist when gifted with a spine which made such ministrations possible? And no hands? Nor sex for that matter, in either form, for two whole years?
“Y’okay?” Jack asked when PJ’s eyelashes fluttered open, revealing adorably dazed eyes. Possibly the most superfluous question ever uttered.
Fishing.
Courteous.
“Hmmm…” PJ indulged in another roadkill impression, except this one looked rather more ‘jackal with the jammy dodger’.
“You sure you’re not disappointed?” he chuckled.
&nbs
p; Definitely fishing.
Pointing out that he need not worry, whatsoever.
“Okay…” His bashful expression was the most beguiling of all. “I just…was worried I might do letting you down.”
“Impossible,” Jack assured him, nuzzling PJ’s nose…wishing he was equipped with a pair of lips like Jake’s when he found himself longing to kiss him. He’d never wished he could do something human before; Jake had been too hell bent on segregating ‘them’ as separate entities. Was Jake allowing the boundaries to blur, or was it happening despite himself? He was too wound up to even attempt untangling this latest batshit brain burp.