Aaron fumbled with his keys, and barely managed not to drop them onto the hallway floor. It took him three tries to get the key in right way up, his hand was shaking so hard.

What was the big deal? He kind of had to wonder. People did this sort of thing all the time, right?

Well, maybe people did, but he, Aaron, sure didn’t.

The mouse tossed a grin over his shoulder, one that he hoped wasn’t too obviously nervous. “It’s a bit of a mess,” he said as he turned the key over. “Sorry.”

The cause of his anxiety, six foot three of lean and wiry, sable-masked ferret, grinned back at him with what appeared to be total confidence. “I’m sure it’s not worse than my place,” Nathan replied.

“Well… okay,” Aaron said, and cursed himself for the awkward pause. He pushed the door open. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”

He’d left dishes to dry on the rack, a few spice jars here and there, and his boots were in some disarray on the mat, but the kitchen-and-foyer wasn’t as badly off as his memory and frantic imagination had tried to tell him. Once his guest was in and the door was locked, though, he hesitated. He’d always been the one the other guy invited home. Finding himself unexpectedly playing host, even if it was by his own breathless invitation, he was kind of at a loss.

Nathan wasn’t. His hands pressed against Aaron’s waist, and the mouse shivered and stiffened as they slid upward from there, up to his shoulders. “Hey, now,” the ferret whispered, hot breath washing over Aaron’s ear. “If someone comes home from a club with you after dancing like that, it’s not ’cause he wants to critique your decor. Silly boy.” He drew Aaron back toward himself, and a warm firmness at the small of the mouse’s back reminded him of the real reason for this.

Aaron shivered all over again.

He normally kept to guys like him – other mice, the smaller rats, guys about his size, though the ones he admired lacked his nervous temperament. He’d been surprised and flattered when the tall and fit ferret had come up to him by the bar, asked his name, and lead him back onto the dance floor; even more surprised the first time Nathan’s teeth had met the edge of his ear, the ferret’s palms on his waist but his fingers stretching a bit farther down. And when those hands had given up the pretence and cupped under his rear, drawing him up and close, to feel the heat in Nathan’s slacks against his own…

Well. He was no virgin, but his past encounters had all been more… sedate. Things had progressed when both he and the other guy had established they were comfortable with them doing so. Slow and steady.

Nathan wasn’t sedate, and he wasn’t slow. But his self-assurance, the very openness of his interest, was a steadiness of another sort. Nervous he was still, certainly; but as Nathan turned him around, dipping him with a hand against Aaron’s back where the swelling heat of his arousal had just been, that heat which now pressed against the mouse’s own surging erection again, as the ferret pressed into a deeper, far fiercer kiss than they’d permitted themselves on the dance floor…

His nerves didn’t matter. Nathan had enough confidence for them both. His hands felt weak and ineffectual, pawing at the ferret’s chest, but with those wiry arms around him, his own didn’t need to be strong.

A minute or so later, Nathan’s tongue drew back into his own muzzle, with one last lick over Aaron’s lips. “Bed?” he whispered.

Aaron swallowed and nodded. “Behind you,” he gasped.

Nathan straightened and glanced over his shoulder. One arm stayed around Aaron’s shoulders, half-leading, half-towing the mouse with him.

Worry rose again as he saw Nathan looking over the game posters on the bedroom wall, over the burly guys they featured, some of them showing a great deal of muscular build. He wondered if the ferret would comment on the sheer geekiness of it all.

But what Nathan said was, “Mm, you’ve got taste. Got a thing for the bigger guys, huh?”

Wolves and foxes. A wolverine. A couple bears. Cats, none smaller than a cheetah who was built something like Nathan himself – and that would be the most scantily dressed, dammit. And one of the most prone to fan art – he thought of his desktop and was very, very glad the computer was off. But maybe Nathan wouldn’t have minded seeing that cat wearing even less, arched in pleasure – he didn’t seem to mind anything he saw there.

Nathan growled, tugging at Aaron’s shirt. His hands, moments ago so sure and steady, fumbled with the buttons now. He ground against Aaron, drove him back a step toward the bed and followed right along with, and when Aaron stumbled and sat on the edge of the bed, Nathan hunkered down with him, staying body to body as he tugged at Aaron’s shirt. It was all the mouse could do to tug Nathan’s black tee out of his slacks and slip his hands up under it, running his fingers through the coarse fur and feeling the tension in the muscle underneath.

Nathan finally got the hang of the buttons after the third one, and Aaron found his front exposed with exhilarating speed. The ferret’s hands slid up to his shoulders and pushed him flat against the bed, and he himself sat up straight, surveying his prize and licking his lips.

Aaron shivered again. He ate little enough and walked around enough that he stayed slender, but he wasn’t exactly an athlete. But the naked want on the ferret’s muzzle was just this side of hunger.

The ferret shifted, and a pair of thumps heralded, most likely, his sandals being slipped off and kicked aside. His hands spent a few moments roaming about Aaron’s chest and stomach and sides, fingers splayed, claws making the lightest contact with the skin underneath, and he squirmed. His hard-on felt like it was straining to burst out of his jeans.

Nathan stood up straight, tugging at his own clothes with a frustrated growl. His shirt came up and off his body in one gloriously fluid motion, tossed to one side. He tugged his belt open, and paused with his fingers on his fly, dark eyes gleaming as they found Aaron’s own. “Lube?” he growled.

Aaron swallowed. He had a good-sized bottle, sure… packed away with his toys. “Right,” he gasped. He started to roll onto his side, to head for the drawer, but a hand on his chest forced him back down. He gave up, and pointed. “Bottom drawer.”

Nathan leaned in and gave a nip to his ear – no grazing pass of teeth, this; Aaron felt their points pricking at thin skin, though they didn’t pierce it. “Stay there,” the ferret hissed. He almost lunged for the drawer Aaron had pointed out, hauling it open, glancing over the contents without even a blink, and seizing the bottle.

While he was doing that, Aaron managed to slip off his shoes. He started to reach for his belt, but found himself pausing, looking up at Nathan as he stood; the ferret grinned, and favoured him with a brief nod.

Aaron had never, ever wriggled out of his pants and boxers faster. When he started to sit up so he could get his shirt the rest of the way off, the ferret held up a finger. “Leave that,” he said, grinning. “It looks good like that.”

The mouse swallowed, and nodded back. Nathan himself was wonderfully naked, as rigidly aroused as Aaron himself. What had felt so big and hot and intimidating when concealed by clothing wasn’t so bad; maybe slightly bigger than Aaron’s own, but no more, despite the foot of height that separated them.

And then it was pressed against his own, and Nathan’s breath was hot on his muzzle, his hand curling around each length of flesh – his own pink, Aaron’s pitch-black like every other piece of him. “You’ve been holding out,” Nathan breathed over his jaw, teeth worrying at the fur there, working down toward his throat. “The way you hold yourself, I’d have been glad to find a four-incher I could get my hand right around. This…”

He lifted his head, and sat up, and grinned. When he was sure he had Aaron’s full attention, he held up a pair of square packages – his own, not the brand Aaron kept a half-dozen of – gave them a shake, and dropped one of them onto the slate-grey sheets. “For later,” he hissed. The other he tore open, extracting the contents with careful precision. A drop of lube on the inside, and he rolled the rubber onto his length with that same deliberate caution.

Aaron squirmed, his toes splaying from anticipation alone.

When Nathan had smeared a light coat of lube over his own covered length, he started to bend down. He eased his shoulders under Aaron’s knees as the mouse lifted them up; he splayed one hand on Aaron’s chest, for balance or to keep him flat or both; the other one, the one that had smeared the lube on, cradled his length. His glans nudged Aaron’s balls; from the way he rocked there a moment, it was far from accidental. And from there he trailed down.

And then…

The first push was sudden – not too sharp, not rough, but Aaron cried out as the ferret’s crown spread him open. He gasped for breath for the next few seconds, shaking. Nathan paused there, though he was breathing hard himself.

He didn’t move any further until Aaron had focused on him again – but once he did, he slid right in, smoother than silk, filling the mouse in one fluid motion. He pressed in close and snug, his arm bending, letting himself down toward Aaron again as its partner braced against the sheets. Teeth grazed Aaron’s throat as the ferret ground against his rump.

And then he started thrusting.

It was all Aaron could do to wrap his arms and legs around the ferret and cling for dear life. Muscle shifted under his fingers as Nathan drove back and forth, stuffing him again and again.

“Fuck, yeah,” Nathan hissed over his throat, slamming in deep and grinding against him. “Mm, for you, babe…” He growled, tilting his head to nip at the side of Aaron’s neck, and started jackhammering into him again, faster still. “God – once won’t be enough!”

Aaron just held on, some distant part of him amazed that he hadn’t already made a sticky mess on Nathan’s stomach. The ferret wasn’t pressing tight enough against his front to do more than brush his bare flesh with fur, and the light touch would have been maddening on its own; combined with the churning under his tail, all he could do was squirm – and hang on. Again and again Nathan’s piston plunged into him; faster and faster came the ferret’s breath over his throat. The taller male wasn’t holding back in the least – no, he was rushing toward his pleasure, and Aaron shivered to feel it rising in him, to know all of those little cues were building toward the inexorable conclusion.

He knew exactly when it was going to happen, yet when Nathan shuddered and lurched against him, ramming in balls-deep and staying there, rocking, his breath quick and hot over Aaron’s neck as his cock jerked under the mouse’s tail, it was still an amazing thrill. His fingers slid over Nathan’s shoulders, feeling the quivering tension of the ferret’s climax.

And then it was done, and Nathan was sliding out of him, leaving him empty – and still thoroughly rigid himself. The ferret slid the rubber off, wadded it up, and after a glance around, reached over to drop it in the trash. “Goddamn,” he breathed, grinning down at Aaron. “You feel awesome, little guy.”

Aaron felt his ears heat and flush; they tried to flick back, and, thanks to the bed, didn’t make much progress. Swallowing, he reached up to slide his fingertips along Nathan’s jaw. “What’s next?” he panted, and shivered as an image presented itself. “God. If you nailed me to the bed as hard as you did me there…”

“Well, that depends,” Nathan purred. He flowed onto the bed, dragging Aaron along with him to lie along rather than across it. His length was still stubbornly rigid, despite his climax; he snatched up the other condom, fingering its wrapper. He glanced down at Aaron, and grinned. “Can you keep it up in a guy? Get off?”

Aaron blushed that much harder. “W-well, yeah,” he stammered. His thoughts strayed for just a moment to Jason, the tiny white mouse who’d introduced him to that particular pleasure, and treated him to it now and then over the years; then he forced them back to the taller male beside him in the present. “But -“

“Good.” The condom wrapper tapped his lips, shutting him up. Again Nathan tore it open; again he deftly pulled the rubber out; again he applied a bit of lube to make pulling it off easier.

And then his left fingers curled around the base of Aaron’s length, holding it up and away from his fur, for the right hand to set the rubber against his glans; a little finger curled under his shaft, and the left hand moved up to pinch the tip, and the right peeled the rubber onto Aaron’s ebon length.

He squeaked, and squirmed, and even bucked up into those stroking fingers, but somehow he didn’t come. He stared up at the ferret’s grinning muzzle, and swallowed. “W-what do you want me to do?” he gasped. There was no way he could match the fucking he’d just been given, no way at all –

“Do?” Nathan swung over him, knees against his waist, and grinned down. “Oh, I’ll still be doing the work on this one, little man.” He eased himself lower, tail flagged out of the way behind him. “All I really expect you to do is moan – and pump your spunk into that rubber, of course.”

Very probably Aaron cried out as Nathan impaled himself on the mouse’s length. His throat was sore when he opened his eyes again, and he was panting. Nathan’s body was arched over him, hands on Aaron’s chest, the ferret’s dark eyes lidded in pleasure.

Aaron’s trembling fingers found the ferret’s wrists, and slid up from them. Nathan groaned, rising up an inch or so, then letting himself sink down – a shallow stirring of his hips. He was so snug and warm around the mouse’s length, even through the rubber, that Aaron could only wonder how he hadn’t hit his climax already. But he hadn’t, so he made the most of it; felt his way upward, Nathan curling down so Aaron could reach his shoulders and move on to his chest. They wriggled against one another, and soon the ferret was panting just as hard as he was, hot breaths mingling, washing over one another’s muzzles. They weren’t close enough to kiss, not even to make a light touch of tongues, not by far, but for now the feel of Nathan’s breath was just as good.

The rhythm was Nathan’s, but it lulled Aaron into an easy pleasure. All he had to do was squirm, and the stirring of his cock made Nathan grunt and shove that much harder against him. The ferret might have been using him as a sex toy for all the contact they had above the shoulders, but the pleasure he took in doing so was intoxicating itself.

Aaron knew he wouldn’t last long, even with the rubber in the way; he could feel his balls aching already, could feel the pressure building inside him. But he tried his best to service the lean stud riding him, to probe deep under the ferret’s tail. When his hand found Nathan’s length, slightly slick with pre and the traces of the lube he’d put in his own rubber, the ferret gasped, shoving forward.

“Fuck, yeah,” the taller man hissed, head tossing. “Oh, yeah. Stroke it, babe, that’s it…”

It was awkward. The angle was strange, and the way the pair of them thrust against each other kept messing up his stroke. But he tried, and Nathan didn’t complain; his groans were as far from complaint as anything the mouse had ever heard, and spurred his own pleasure on that much faster.

It was a race, now. Not that either of them could lose, exactly, whichever of them came first – but they rushed toward that moment together. And then Nathan shuddered, slumping over him and cupping a hand behind his head, lifting it up to nip at the side of his neck, and slick, musky cream spilt over Aaron’s fingers from that jerking pink shaft.

The rich scent made something snap in him. Finally, he arched up, a long, keening moan working through his tight throat as he pumped at long last into the waiting rubber.

The dizzying whirl of climax faded. The world was not distant, as the afterglow so often made it for him; in fact he felt hyper-aware as the ferret lifted off of him and drew the rubber free, and very aware indeed of the aching emptiness beside him when Nathan leaned away to toss the thing in the trash with the first, and the wrappers, and to put the bottle of lube more gently on the nightstand.

He propped himself up on one arm, gazing down at Aaron with a wistful expression on his conical muzzle. Aaron shivered. He’d only asked Nathan to come in for a few hours, to do in private what they couldn’t at the club; now he swallowed and anxiously wished he hadn’t put it that way.

“Hey…” The ferret’s muzzle found one of his ears, even as it tried to pin back, and held it between his lips for a moment; then he whispered into it, “Mind if I stay the night?”

Aaron blinked. It took him a moment to parse what he’d heard, then another to confirm he’d actually heard that. He’d been dreaming it. Had to have been.

Right?

But no, he hadn’t. Nathan was still right there, a new eagerness in his eyes, softer than the one with which he’d stripped Aaron down earlier.

Aaron couldn’t say the thought that actually came to mind; that he didn’t want the ferret to go, ever, that the void left by his body if he’d left would’ve nagged at the mouse all night. All he could manage to actually say was a much milder “That’d be great.”

But maybe Nathan understood anyway.

The nights were still warm. Nathan eased him away from the spot they’d just coupled on, pushed him onto his side, and slid up behind him. His body was warm against Aaron’s back, his breath hotter still on the back of the mouse’s neck; for a moment, sharp teeth touched his scruff, and a possessive arm draped over his side.

For the night, at least, Aaron was his.

And Aaron couldn’t think of anything more soothing, more right.