Bond of Brothers - Part 4

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#4 of Bond of Brothers

Dieter and Kristian make a new friend, Jack the mule, who seems to have a dark past. But Bruno and his boys are overflowing with compassion, and in the midst of a wild winter storm, maybe Jack has found a way to begin to confront his demons.

I should include a trigger warning; this story contains references to physical and psychological trauma.


A dense mist blanketed most of Stillwater Cove, muffling any sounds and enveloping the little town in an almost otherworldly silence. Seven in the morning. It was still two weeks until the winter solstice, but a thick snow already carpeted the hills to the north and east of the town, and even beneath the sea fog, frost covered the roofs of the houses and made the footpaths treacherous.

His slow, deep breaths steaming in the still, frigid air, a lone figure on a heavily-laden bakfiets cargo bike laboured up the gradual, curving road into the old artisan district atop the ridge to the east of the town. Frost glistened on the stag's white, bony antlers, and he grunted rhythmically, powering the heavy trike up the hill. Abruptly, he burst out of the mist into icy cold, clear air, and he paused briefly, gazing back over the top of the millpond-smooth cloud. The sun cast a bright, but cold yellow glow across the array of old industrial buildings scattered haphazardly along the top of the ridge, each coated with a glittering rime of ice, sparkling like diamonds in the early morning sun. As he arrived at his workshop, Bruno huffed and brushed crystals of ice from his muzzle and chin, dismounting and hauling open the ancient wooden barn doors to wheel his trike inside the old building.

"Morning, Bruno!"

"Mornin, Sandro! You're here early, what's the occasion?" Bruno pulled the doors closed behind him to keep in the warmth from a small brazier in the middle of the warehouse, and quickly walked over to thaw his hands in its glow.

Alessandrowas a short, lithe kuvrahk in his middle years who shared Bruno's workspace for his own coffee roasting business. His passion for coffee was only matched by his passion for talking about it; one of those guys who's a brilliant salesman, but unintentionally so. His musical Spanish accent certainly didn't hurt, either.

"Oh this IS an occasion! You remember me talking about that honey-process microlot from Burundi? It's here! It arrived yesterday evening just after you left! It's incredible, I just couldn't wait any longer to start playing around with the roast, so I got here at six to get the machine warmed up!"

Bruno laughed at the little dragon's enthusiasm and nodded. "Yeah, you've been talking about it for weeks. White, almost translucent fruit, streaked with red. Isn't this the one they cultivated after finding it growing out of a cliff or something?"

"Yeah! It's an accidental cross-pollination and there are some crazy odds against it happening like this! A very happy accident - It sold at auction for nearly eighty times the cost of most other varietals. Good for everyone, really!"

"Eighty times? Eight zero?" Bruno's eyebrows rose.

"Yup! That's why I could only afford four sacks of green beans. It'll be a micro-batch, I'll have to sell it for about $90 a kilo just to cover costs."

"Geez, you'll have to hook me up with a few samples of that!"

"Of course, my friend! There will be experiments and not-quite-perfect samples, which I never sell - you're more than welcome to help me drink them!"

Clapping the little dragon firmly on the shoulder and nearly knocking him over, Bruno grinned and began unloading his cargo trike, hauling the pieces of storm-felled lumber into his storage area. It had been a walnut tree, and while it had been relatively young, it would provide timber enough for a variety of projects. The stag ran his callused hands over the exposed heartwood, feeling the vitality that had surged through it until just a couple of weeks ago with an almost spiritual empathy.

Bruno had built his business carefully; After years of manufacturing furniture and fitouts from conventionally-sourced wood, he had finally managed to build a solid customer base for one-off pieces made entirely from reclaimed and storm-felled timber. It suited him perfectly. As a forest creature, felling trees specifically to make furniture had always sat poorly with him, and finally he was able to work comfortably within his moral means. Bruno sat on a stout stool made from the bole of an elm tree, peering over the selection of timber laid out over his workbench, and sketching ideas into a ragged, dog-eared book with a gnarled stub of a pencil. It was going to be a good day.

*****

Dieter grinned toothily at his twin brother through the dense mist, his breath fogging as he made a comical foghorn sound; Kristian rolled his eyes and mimicked the noise, the twins riding their bikes towards the school with a little more trepidation than usual. At the very least, the slushy road made it much easier to skid, the boys doing so at every possible opportunity, leaning forward over their fixed-gear bikes and locking their legs.

The twins' ears pricked and two antlered heads turned towards the sound of a sudden grunt, and a loud crash, and with an exchanged glance they both headed for the sound.

"Hello? Are you alright?" Dieter called through the fog.

"Y-yeah... I think so..." came a muffled, deflated reply.

The twins dismounted as they arrived, and were met by a very embarrassed, muddy colt, just a couple of years older than themselves, and looking thoroughly miserable, wrapped up in a scarf, woolen hat and a coat several sizes too big for him.

"Dude, what happened?" Kristian asked, reaching a hand down to help the equine to his hooves. His ears were much larger than any other horse they'd seen, and it suddenly dawned on Kris that he was indeed not a horse at all, and nor a donkey, but a mule!

"I uh... I guess I was distracted... My tail...ow... y-yeah, my tail got caught in the back wheel," the mule boy stammered a bit, rubbing his head and swaying a little.

Dieter, meanwhile, had picked up the colt's bike and was examining it, huffing a little as he searched for damage. "Hmm... we don't have that issue!"

"You go to our school, dontcha?" Kristian asked, tilting his head a little. "I'm Kris, this is my brother Dieter."

"J-Jack... and yeah I do, I started a couple of years ago here. Um...is the bike okay? I'm n-not very good with stuff like that..."

Dieter chuckled a bit, ringing the colt's bell obnoxiously. "Yeah, it's fine! C'mon, you should ride with us! And hold yer tail up!"

Jack managed a nervous smile as a memory of his very first day in this town resurfaced, and clumsily re-mounted his bike, holding his tufted tail comically high as he wobbled out into the road again, flanked by the twins.

The trio arrived at school slightly late, and stripped off their damp winter coats and gloves as they dashed into the building, and Dieter gave a sharp, playful smack to his twin's butt as they parted ways for their first class, causing Jack to flush bright red and look away.

"Hey! You shit, you better watch it!" Kristian bleated ineffectually at his brother, and snorted, turning to Jack with a shrug. "I'll get him back..."

"I uh... wow. You guys get on pretty well huh?"

"I guess so! Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"Y-yeah...two... but they're m-much older and moved out years ago."

"Oh... don't you get lonely?"

The innocence of the young stag's question caught Jack off guard, and he started to reply a few times before furrowing his brow nervously.

"Oh...sorry...was that a bad thing to ask?" Kristian reached up and rested a conciliatory hand on Jack's shoulder.

Instantly, the colt sucked in a sharp breath and tensed up, pulling away from the touch and flattening his ears to his skull with a little equine squeal. Kris hurriedly pulled his hand back and stammered another apology, thinking he'd maybe touched Jack somewhere he was hurting after stacking his bike.

"N-no, no it's fine... I just...I d-don't...uh... t-touching me is...well...I just don't like it much," Jack muttered, gripping his muddy coat tightly in his arms, his eyes darting about nervously.

"Oh! That's okay! I'll remember that. C'mon, we should get to class... Which way are you goin?"

"Uh...Aw shit. Math. Really?" Jack sighed dejectedly and the two boys walked together for a little while, until Kristian reached his geography room.

"Okay, this is me! Hey, me an' Dieter hang out in the bike shed at lunch, you should come join us!"

Jack snorted and flushed bright red at the touch, and nodded dumbly to the younger boy, before trotting on towards the imminent doom of being late to math class, his gait somewhat stiff-legged and ungainly. Kristian watched him go for a moment, and shook his head before sucking in a few quick, sharp breaths, ruffling his hair and running the last three paces to the geography room to make it look as though he'd bolted all the way here from the bike racks, bursting in with a flurry of apologies and hurried excuses about snow and crashing.

*****

Dieter grinned smugly to himself as he sat in the back of his English class, his palm still stinging slightly from the strength of the smack he'd delivered his brother. His expression caught the attention of the red panda girl sitting beside him, and she raised a questioning eyebrow to him.

"S'ok, just thinkin' about my brother," Dieter whispered.

She nodded, but appeared a little confused, and soon returned her attention to the old stoat droning on about clauses. Dieter scrawled some notes into his book, but on the whole found the class to be profoundly dull. The twins' father had, among many other things, taught them to read and write from a very young age, and they were well above the expected level of literacy for boys of twelve years old.

"Amelie, could you please explain the function of a semicolon?"

The sharp, acidic tone of the teacher's voice made the panda girl jump slightly, and she stammered a little at being put on the spot, as every head in the class turned towards her.

"Psst...joining independent clauses..." Dieter whispered harshly out the corner of his mouth.

"Dieter, I wasn't asking you! Shush!"

"Sorry, miss."

"Amelie?"

"Ahh... A semicolon is used to join two closely related independent clauses within the same sentence, provided they are not already joined by a co-ordinating conjunction." she murmured, regurgitating the exact wording in the textbook.

"Perfect, thankyou! Dieter, you may or may not have noticed I've written three sentences on the board. Can you tell me which is incorrectly punctuated?" those glittering yellow eyes turned to the young stag, along with every head in the class.

Dieter cleared his throat, and considered for a moment, reading the sentences for the first time.

"Miss, technically only the first one is correct. The second uses a semicolon and a conjunction; in the third, the clauses are not closely related enough to justify being in the same sentence."

"'Closely enough related,' Dieter, but well done."

She always had to have the last word, Dieter mused to himself, trying his hardest not to smirk at his own smartassery. Amelie's shoulders shook slightly as she struggled to suppress laughter. As soon as the old stoat's back was turned, Dieter held up his hand and was met with a high-five from Amelie.

The rest of English class went with predictable dullness, and the moment the old brass bell was rung in the hall to announce the end of the period, the class erupted in a cacophony of sliding chairs and a susurration of voices. The hallway outside was a river of students, jostling and flowing from one room to another, and as Dieter left and turned to head to his next class, Amelie caught his elbow and grinned.

"Uh...thankyou for your 'elp. I was kind of stuck for a moment there," she smiled at him. Her voice carried a gentle French accent, and Dieter fumbled briefly for a reply.

"Y-you're welcome! She can be such a hardcase sometimes, there's no need to put us on the spot like that. You did well though, she loves hearing her textbook quoted back to her!"

"Mm. English is so much 'arder than Français, it's so...complex!"

"Oh, really? I suppose it is! I never really thought of it though," Dieter cleared his throat quietly, trying not to stare too much at Amelie. She was very, very pretty... "Uh...what class do you have next? I don't think we've ever sat together before..."

"No, we 'aven't! You are always right at the back of the room! I 'ave the same as you, now - l'histoire.'

Her accent sent a little chill up Dieter's spine. How had he never spoken to her before? The pair walked slowly together towards the history room, Amelie taking obvious delight in Dieter's sudden nervousness. Lunch was a long time off, yet for the first time in ages, Dieter didn't mind at all.

*****

By the time lunch eventually arrived, the dense fog had well and truly cleared, and the sun shone brilliantly, if coldly, hanging low in the sky. Clouds piled up ominously in the western sky, great towering monoliths of mashed potato shot through with streaks of purple and ringed with wispy strands of cirrus. Heavy snow was forecast for the late evening and into the following day. The patches of ground still in the shadow of the buildings still carried a thin layer of frost, and most students stayed inside the heated school buildings to eat.

All except three small figures, rugged up tightly in coats and scarves and hats, their breath lingering in the frigid air as they walked hastily out towards the bike shed, which was less a shed than it was a proper outbuilding.

Jack shivered as Dieter and Kristian ushered him into the shed, which was at least marginally warmer than it was outside. The twin deer boys seemed largely unfazed by the cold, and grinned playfully at Jack's obvious discomfort. The low sun streamed brightly in through the bike shed's small windows, glinting off the array of bikes lined up haphazardly against rows of racks. Against the back wall, well away from the draughty doorway, Dieter and Kristian had constructed a makeshift bench out of stacked wooden crates, and padded with old blankets, rags and so on. A fair few students and teachers alike used the bench as a sort of changing area, and thus it had been allowed to remain. The twins sat together on the bench and immediately began stuffing their faces with lunch, until after a moment Kristian looked up at Jack, who was still standing awkwardly a few paces away, looking around uncomfortably.

"Jack? What's up dude? Cmon, have a seat!" Kris nudged the mule's fetlock with his cloven hoof, shifting along the bench a little and patting the space between himself and Dieter.

Jack gulped a little but gingerly lowered his butt onto the bench, sitting on the edge of it with his back straight as an arrow, nibbling slowly on the edge of his sandwich. He shivered slightly, his nose running from the cold.

"You really feel the cold huh?" Dieter commented after a minute.

Jack nodded dumbly. As miserable as the cold made him, he wasn't about to leave. It was always nice to have new friends, even if they were younger than him. The few friends Jack had made when he first arrived in Stillwater Cove had since grown apart, and while Jack spoke to them individually while at school, they never hung out together in their own time any more. So Jack became lonely. Kristian's innocent query from that morning burned into the colt's mind, and he came to the conclusion that yes, he was indeed lonely a lot of the time. He did his best to just get on with things but he'd never been particularly good at initiating social contact with anyone - he had his father to thank for that, he knew, but how does a boy of thirteen articulate to his friends that his childhood was so filled with terror and psychological abuse that he feels he'll never be able to trust anyone ever again? His nervous shyness seemed to scare most people off fairly soon, or worse, convince them that Jack was not interested in their friendship. He missed the easy, often fiery dynamic between the two friends he'd made on his first day at this school. As much as he'd been a third wheel to an existing friendship, it had made the mule colt feel welcome and appreciated in a way he never had previously.

Jack's eyes almost bugged out of his head and he almost let out an equine squeal of surprise as he felt a warm body against his right side. Of course, Dieter didn't know about his sensitivity to touch. It frustrated him to no end; any physical contact from almost anyone, although especially from a friend, caused almost instant physical arousal. Jack was at a complete loss to explain that side effect, but it persisted, although the more prominent sensation was one of profound discomfort bordering on fear. And being a mule, the arousal part could be very embarrassing, and quite obvious, especially as puberty progressed and things Got Bigger.

Kristian noticed his brother's movement on Jack's other side, and hummed quietly, nonchalantly placing his hand on the colt's chest and pushing him back against the backrest of the bench, before gently snuggling in on his left side.

"We don't feel the cold as much! It's okay dude, relax! This is like, the oldest trick in the book," Dieter grinned, the slightly-older twin pressing against Jack's hip to impart some body heat to the frozen colt.

"I uh..."

"Dieter, he doesn't like to be touched..." Kristian muttered across to his brother.

"Oh! Why not?"

Jack went bright red and buried his muzzle into his lunch bag, hoping his heavy coat was voluminous enough to conceal the embarrassing erection now straining at the inside of his jeans. The twins seemed to be utterly oblivious to his state, for which he was thankful. At length, he began to relax a little, confident they would not notice. Focusing instead on suppressing the fear that made his heart flutter, he couldn't deny the warmth was nice.

"Uh... It's... It's okay, Kris. This is fine. Just uh... When I'm standing up, mostly... And where other people can see. It makes me...uncomfortable."

"Oh!" Kristian's muzzle cracked into a grin which caused Jack to recoil in worry that he'd worked out what he meant.

"Yeah, we're well used to touching and stuff," Dieter piped up. "Our dad is too. We sorta live in the kind of house where hugging and touching and stuff is totally normal, so I guess that's a thing."

Jack nodded and huffed quietly, surreptitiously squirming his hips to adjust himself. "O...oh... That's cool. I just live with my mum, and she doesn't really... Well she's not much into hugs. Or touches. At all."

"Oh, dude that sucks! We've just got dad. Well he's technically our uncle, not our dad, but he raised us, and we've actually never met our mother. But it's cool, living in an all-dudes house and that," Kristian shrugged a little.

"I haven't s-seen my dad for years..." Jack murmured.

A brief pause ensued, before two pairs of skinny arms encircled Jack from both sides, the twins hugging him tightly.

"It's okay dude, we understand. It's hard..." Dieter's arm was quite low across Jack's tummy, and the colt squirmed self consciously. "...but not as hard as you seem to be..."

"Aw fuck... I'm sorry! Don't...!" Jack wrestled his way free of the twins' hug and hunched over a little.

With the same charming innocence as he'd had that morning, Kristian tilted his head and peered at Jack's face. "Is that why you don't like being touched?"

Jack nodded, staring anxiously at his hooves. A quiet chuckle from Kristian made him perk his ears and peer nervously at him.

Dieter rolled his eyes a little and nudged Jack in the ribs on his other side. "Jack, don't worry! We're all dudes, right? Wood happens... Happens to us all the time when we hug and stuff. Don't feel bad for it!"

"...R-really?"

"Really," Kristian grinned, the buck unashamedly adjusting himself before taking another huge bite out of his sandwich and chewing noisily.

Jack's muzzle relaxed, and then split slowly into a broad grin. He leaned back again, rubbing his eyes in relief and sighing. "But still... D-don't hug me in p-public, okay?"

*****

At the end of the school day, Jack waited at the school doors for the twins to emerge, the only figure standing still in a heaving, tumultuous mass of students vying for their escape for the afternoon. Eventually he spotted two identical pairs of small antlers, and waved to catch their attention.

"Heya Jack! How's it hangin?" Kristian grinned toothily as the pair sauntered over to join him.

Dieter rolled his eyes and snorted, and Jack cleared his throat. "I uh... g-good, I suppose!"

A moment of silence stretched between them, before Dieter made a long, low trumpeting noise. "Awkward horn! Hey Jack, where do you live? Want us to ride with you to make sure you don't stack it again?"

"Uh...it's quite a long way... Over the hill, b-behind the workshop district."

"Oh! Dad works up there! Kris, we should totally go visit him at work! We haven't been to his workshop in ages! Probably too cold for treehouse stuff tonight, huh?" Dieter bent down to unchain his bike, rolling up the lock and stuffing it into his backpack as Kris did the same.

"Yeah! Dad lets us do our homework up there with him, then we all ride home together once he's finished work. I don't think he'll be late tonight, he never is on cold nights!" Kris tugged on his gloves, and tightened his scarf. "Fuck it's cold! I can't feel my balls!"

Dieter couldn't help but rise to that bait, stepping in smoothly to deliver a little tap to his twin brother's crotch. Instead of wincing, Kris just put his hands on his hips and gave his brother a bored stare, and an exaggerated yawn. "Told ya I couldn't feel em."

Jack's face was beet red in spite of the cold. He shuddered, and turned away to adjust his jeans in sympathy and retrieve his bike. Dieter and Kristian were already mounted up and riding in slow, lazy circles around the bike racks by the time Jack was ready to go, and the twins jostled Jack impatiently out of the school gates, and through the icy, cobbled streets towards the artisan district atop the ridge.

With a low rumble, thunder rippled through the evening sky, the menacing mass of stormclouds having moved to hang over the eerily still waters of Stillwater Cove. The little town, all snow-white roofs and golden windows, seemed unfazed by the looming threat. As the two young stags and Jack rode through the slippery streets, the first flakes of snow began to drift ominously downward from the heavy, muffling blanket of cloud overhead, and Dieter and Kristian exchanged a worried glance. Storms were known to hit this coastline hard and fast. As they rode, skittering across the cobbles of The Harrows and past the Cog & Cup on their way to the workshop district, the first heavy gusts of wind tore through the town, bringing with them an icy blast of sleet-loaded air. In minutes, the storm enveloped Stillwater Cove, obscuring the town entirely in a swirling maelstrom of ice and thunder.

Jack was terrified. He rode slowly and hunched forward over his handlebars, with Dieter ahead of him and Kristian behind. The road they were on was newer than the cobbles of the old town, and not as slippery, but it was steep. It switchbacked its way up the face of the low hills that bounded the town, on top of which the workshop district sat. The icy wind plucked and buffeted the three boys as they labored up the hill. With an effort, Kristian came up alongside Jack, and gave the colt what he hoped would be a reassuring smile.

"Not much further! Just around that corner at the top of this hill!" he shouted over the wind.

*****

Bruno peered out of the little crooked workshop window at the gathering dusk outside. Heavy storm brewing. The sky had that particular brownish pallour, an unexpected warmth and a dense, heavy stillness that promised that he would awaken the following morning to drifts of snow piled against his front door - if not sooner. The stag was sitting on a high stool, of course one he'd made himself, with his back to the little pot-bellied coal brazier in the centre of the workshop. Alessandro had already shut down and left for the evening, and Bruno took the opportunity to make himself a pot of that amazing coffee the kuvrahk had been raving about that morning.

It was even better than he'd been anticipating; whenever a coffee roaster spruiks a new bean, it's usually an overstatement, but not in this instance. Bruno held the rustic clay mug below his muzzle, just letting the warmth of the bright, almost amber-red brew soak into his hands as the steam rose around his snout. His eyes fluttered closed, and what little stress there was in his day evaporated with the rich, fruity aroma of the honey-process brew. Outside, with an alarming suddenness, the storm hit, and Bruno grunted, sucking in a sharp, shocked breath. He should've left sooner. Pulling out his phone, the enormous stag tapped out a message to his sons, telling them he might not make it home tonight if the snow was too bad, and to make sure they locked the doors and stayed warm inside.

Bruno was jolted from his thoughts only minutes later by the sound of the workshop door opening, accompanied by an icy blast of air and a flurry of snowflakes. Not two, but three boys stepped into the workshop, shivering and shaking with the cold, all three of them with frost around their noses and mouths, hands grappling with frozen bicycles like numb claws.

"Deets! Kris! Oh god, you rode up here?!" Bruno rumbled, rising to his hooves and setting his mug down to rush over, closing the door behind the three boys and ushering them rapidly across to the brazier. "Why didn't you go straight home from school? Didn't you see how close the storm was? And who's this?"

Bruno's concern made his voice gruff and probably a little unwelcoming, because Jack shied away, shrinking towards the door. "I...I sh-should... g-g-g-get home..." he stammered, the mule's teeth chattering helplessly. Dieter and Kristian rushed forward, their hooves skidding a little on the brickwork floor, to pull Jack away from the door, towards the warmth.

"Like hell you're going back out into that muck, kiddo! What's your name?" Bruno placed a huge hand on Jack's shoulder, propelling the colt towards the brazier and opening the door with a thick glove to allow the golden, molten heat within to pour out. He lifted a chunk of coal with the glove, tossing it into the tiny inferno.

"Dad, this is Jack... He lives east of the workshop district so we said we'd ride with him and stop here to say hi on the way by! He stacked his bike this morning on the way to school, so we wanted to make sure he was safe. And now it's stupid cold out," Dieter explained, as the twins removed their scarves and coats, thawing out their shivering bodies by the heat of the fire. Outside, the wind picked up steadily, becoming a constant, howling scream that rattled the door and window, sending little flurries beneath into the warmth of the workshop.

"I see... Well it's nice to meet you Jack. I'm Bruno, I'm the twins' dad. Don't worry if I seemed scary there at first, I was just worried... seems like it's too cold for anyone to be going anywhere tonight," the big buck's voice lowered and softened, and he smiled at Jack. "This storm escalated quickly! I'm glad I brought a pile of blankets and pillows and food up here this morning! Jack, I think you should contact your parents, tell them you won't be able to get home unless they come and pick you up, alright? You can let them speak to me if you need to."

The mule, for his part, was too frozen even to be embarrassed by being touched, and as his shivering gradually eased, he pried his gloves away from his hands, and winced in pain as bloodflow started to return to his fingers. "I...I... th-thanks, Bruno. Um..." his eyes darted around between the three stags, all of whom were staring at him. "W-what? Oh... Wh-where's your bathroom?"

"Right over there, buddy," Bruno pointed to the back corner of the workshop.

It was a small, no-frills bathroom, with a very simple shower, a hand-wash trough and a toilet, and nothing more. Not even a curtain surrounded the shower. And on top of the bathroom, a wooden platform rested, with a balustrade surrounding it, upon which Bruno had a comfy couch, an electric space heater and a few beanbags arranged, for nights just like this one where the weather was just too foul to consider heading home for the night. And being above ground level, it was of course warmer up there than down on the workshop floor, even with its brazier. Given that he didn't own a vehicle besides his cargo trike and a bicycle, it was always good to remain prepared for these eventualities.

*

After a brief look around the workshop, Jack made his way rather hastily to the bathroom, his gait a little stiff-legged as his bladder gave him an undeniable sign of its need to be drained. Once alone in the bathroom, the mule unzipped his heavy winter coat and pulled his sweater and shirt up, tucking them beneath his chin in a habitual manner he'd had since childhood.

To his abject horror, Jack's still cold fingers fumbled with the zipper of his pants, finding it frozen solid. A desperate little whimper passed the colt's lips, and his hoof-tipped fingers slipped again and again. The equine boy could feel his sheath swelling already in his jeans, his prepuce slipping back to expose the flaccid length of his penis even as his bladder screamed at him to release... His fingers scrabbled hopelessly with the frozen zipper, and he bounced on his hooves to try and give himself an extra second... just a second or two... to yank his zipper down and free himself!

Jack's cheeks burned with shame and embarrassment at the same moment as warmth bloomed against his inner thigh. There wasn't a thing he could do to stop it, whether it was just the cold or not. His heart hammered in his chest, and as his urine soaked through the blue denim of his jeans, dripping out of the ankle seam over his hoof and onto the bathroom floor, the zipper of his jeans finally gave way, melted by his stream. Jack shoved his pants down roughly. He glared angrily at his equine genitals, tears spilling from his eyes over his flushed cheeks as he aimed the rest of his stream into the bowl of the toilet. Why did such shit things always happen to him? His mind flashed back unbidden to a memory he thought he'd stashed away beneath the floorboards of his childhood, of his father raging at a tiny five-year-old foal who'd woken up with wet pyjamas. The fierce beating that had followed had etched a deep-seated fear in the tiny equine's mind, one which he'd hoped he'd filled with happier memories since then.

Jack trembled, his knees weak and tears spilling over his cheeks to be angrily cuffed away on his sleeve. He squeezed and shook out his last few drops, and flushed, pulling up his wet jeans and crinkling his muzzle at the acrid stench of himself.

*

"You boys alright?" Bruno asked once Jack had dashed off to the bathroom, rounding on his sons and squatting down with a grunt to examine them, to their chagrin.

"Yeah we're fine dad! We don't feel the cold as much," Dieter shrugged.

"I still can't feel my balls, but whatever..."

Bruno raised an eyebrow. "Do I need to ask?"

"Not really..." Kris winced, rummaging in his pants for a moment. "S'okay, they're there."

Dieter just cackled facetiously, and wriggled his eyebrows at his twin.

"Huh. Alright. I don't need to know. So tell me about Jack. He's a mule, right? He seems so nervous!"

As he spoke, Bruno meandered across to Alessandro's kitchen, where a glistening array of coffee-making apparatus was lined up along a bench Bruno had built, like some kind of glittering chemistry set. Without considering the time of day, he set up some of Sandro's coffee, making a pot for the boys. Anything to warm them up. Outside, the wind howled against the ancient workshop, and Bruno glanced up at the roof. As sure as he was that it would remain intact, there was always a shadow of a doubt in his mind when the weather got this bad, this suddenly.

Dieter and Kristian followed their father, the twin boys having stripped off their outer layers of clothing now. The warmth of the workshop after the biting cold outside was making them sleepy, and there was a lot of eye-rubbing and yawning going on.

Bruno handed each of them a small cup of coffee, and leaned on the bench.

"Huh. Yeah. Jack seems cool," Dieter murmured into his cup.

"We only met him today for the first time," Kris shrugged softly. "He's really really really uncomfortable with being touched, at all. Makes him..." Kris's lips quirked into a grin, and he held up a hand, slowly unfurling one finger until it pointed upwards towards his father.

Bruno chuckled softly. "Has the same effect on you two, doesn't it? Why's he anything unusual?"

"Mostly cos he doesn't like it! I don't think he gets any affection at home," Dieter mused with a maturity that contrasted with his youth in a way that made Bruno's heart swell.

"Hmm. Well I hope you haven't been teasing him about it. Maybe he comes from a home where it's treated as a really bad thing," Bruno suggested, his voice gentle but authoritative.

The boys exchanged a glance, and looked back up to their father, just as Jack, with a pitiful little bray, emerged from the bathroom, the entire right leg of his jeans soaked through.

"Boys, give him space. Don't embarrass him. Why dontcha look through the fridge for me, see if you can get some dinner started for all of us?" Bruno murmured, gently propelling his sons away from the poor colt.

"I... I'm s-so-so sorry..." Jack whimpered, sniffling back tears, his eyes flickering furtively up to Bruno's as the big stag approached him.

Jack seemed to be expecting Bruno to lash out, to be angry, to hit him, even. So when Bruno's arms just wrapped around the poor mule, he gave a shocked, equine squeal, and went limp, shivering gently in the stag's embrace. Very gently, Bruno urged Jack back into the bathroom, and shut the door behind them. There was a small, almost insignificant puddle on the floor in front of the toilet, but aside from that the bathroom was spotless, and Bruno sighed softly.

"What happened?" he asked gently, releasing Jack from the hug, and quietly observing the way the awkward teenager immediately hunched forward, hands covering his groin. It really did happen that readily, and that easily.

"I... M-my zipper froze... I couldn't get it down in time, I'm so sorry Bruno! I promise it won't h-happen aga..."

Bruno cut the poor colt off with a gently finger to his lips, and gazed into Jack's brimming eyes. "Hey. Easy. Eeeeeasy. It's alright. I'm not angry. These things happen, it's not your fault. Is this something you'd get in a lot of trouble for at home?"

Jack just nodded dumbly, sniffling noisily and shifting uncomfortably on his hooves.

Bruno just observed the colt for a moment, and nodded. "Alright. Well... you're safe here. Nothing bad will happen, I promise. I'm sure I've got a spare pair of sweatpants around here you can wear tonight, but you should get out of those jeans and take a quick shower, okay? Should help you warm up, too."

Jack's ears flattened to his skull, the colt finding the huge male's gentle generosity so unexpectedly foreign that he had few words. "S-sweatpants?" he managed. "Ohh... I... um..."

Bruno chuckled warmly. "Don't worry if you pitch a tent in them. We're all dudes, it happens. This is a very safe space, Jack. Dieter and Kristian mentioned you don't like being touched because you come from a family where hugs aren't given. We're... kinda the opposite of that. If it gets too much for you just say so, but please, please don't feel like you need to be ashamed of your body's reactions."

With that, Bruno flashed Jack a wink and a warm, fatherly smile, and left the colt alone in the bathroom again, rummaging around to find him a towel and the promised sweatpants, which he knocked and deposited with a hand over his eyes a moment later. Of course he peeked between his fingers, but Jack had his back turned, the colt's shyness beyond anything Bruno had ever seen before. He was an attractive enough kid, for sure. He seemed around thirteen or so, maybe a little less, and his crippling shyness made him seem younger still. His pelt was a unique colour, a pale, honeycomb yellow. In that briefest of glimpses, Bruno noticed the faint Jerusalem cross on Jack's back, and the boy's well-shaped muscles as the hot water of the simple shower cascaded over his body, matting his pelt to his skin.

Closing the door silently, Bruno returned to his twins, who were working together to make dinner for all four of them. At that moment, the sound of a ringing phone came from Jack's backpack, which was still near the brazier where it had fallen. Bruno stepped over to it, and rummaged until he found the battered old iphone. Incoming call from Mum.

He slid the accept call slider and lifted Jack's phone to his ear.

"JACK! Where the HELL are you, you get home this instant or...or..."

"Hello, I'm Bruno Hirschkoff - don't panic, it's alright, Jack is safe," The moment he opened his mouth Bruno slapped his free hand over his face, certain that his deep, grumbling voice on the other end of a teenager's phone would cause a total panic.

Silence, for a moment, and an unmistakably donkeyish squeal, followed by a gasp. "...Wait, Bruno Hirschkoff? Oh my lord, thank goodness, I thought my Jackie had been kidnapped for a moment there! Is he with you? It's Annabelle, Annabelle Frost."

Annabelle Frost. His accountant?! Jack was her son?

...Jack Frost?!

"Oh! Hahah, what a coincidence! How've you been, Belle? Yes, it's me. Jack's here with me and my two boys, I'm just at my workshop in the artisan district. My two met Jack today and escorted him up here intending for him to then continue home on his own, but the storm caught them," Bruno leaned against his workbench, and Dieter and Kristian exchanged a glance. Living in a small town has its perks, and its downsides, and sometimes it's just fucking weird.

"Oh right? Um... do you need me to come and pick him up or anything? What happens later?" Annabelle still sounded worried.

Thinking for a moment about Jack's soaked jeans and how he'd explain that without revealing the colt's accident, Bruno worded his reply carefully. "Belle, this storm is really, really bad. I wouldn't want to think of anyone out walking or riding or even driving in this lot, it's just too dangerous. We're warm and dry and safe here, and there's blankets and comfortable places for all of us to sleep right here in the workshop. Jack'll be fine here with us until tomorrow, if you're alright with that."

Annabelle went silent, and Bruno was momentarily afraid she'd abjectly refuse, and come to collect her son there and then. "Okay. I trust you, Bruno. The school has been calling all parents this afternoon, there's no school tomorrow because of the storm. Don't suppose they have your workshop number."

"No, you're right, there's no phone in the workshop!" Bruno chuckled. "Thankyou for that. Good to know. Stay warm, Belle, we'll be just fine here."

With that, Bruno ended the call, and slipped Jack's phone back into his backpack just as the bathroom door opened, admitting a damp, steamy, scruffy colt back into the workshop space, scrubbing at his mane with his towel as he awkwardly held up the way-too-big sweatpants with his other hand. Bruno smiled softly at Jack, and rejoined Dieter and Kristian in the kitchen, waiting for Jack to join them.

"Th-thanks for the pants, Bruno," the colt muttered shyly. He tried letting go of them, but they immediately began to sink down over his hips, so he grabbed them with a grunt, his towel falling to the floor.

Dieter bent down and picked up the damp towel with a soft giggle, winking to Jack. "Won't matter once we're sitting down, don't worry!"

"Also there should be a waistcord in there somewhere Jack, just pull em tight and tie them up!" Bruno suggested, "Feeling a little better now? I often shower here before I head home after work, the water pressure here is actually better than it is at home!"

"Y-yeah, much better! Um.. w-what should I... do about...m-my pants?" Jack stammered, fumbling around inside the waistband of the baggy sweatpants and eventually finding the ends of the drawcord, pulling it tight and tying an awkward knot in it.

"Oh, don't worry about those! Um... Your mum called, so I answered it. Don't worry, it's fine. She's my accountant, we know each other already! Small world huh? She's alright with you staying here with us tonight, so there's no rush to get you home. So I would suggest, maybe we wash your jeans and underwear and dry them on the brazier?"

Jack's face flushed bright red at having his accident discussed in such a blasé manner, although he didn't protest at having a steaming bowl of fragrant, peppery orange soup and thick-cut bread shoved into his hands by Kristian, nor at being softly shepherded up the stairs to the lounge platform on top of the bathroom by the twins. Today had been such a rollercoaster of emotions for the poor mule, he was utterly exhausted. So he didn't even find it within himself to protest when, after turning on the little electric heater, Dieter and Kristian snuggled up on either side of their new friend as they had in the bike shed at school, the three boys eating in comfortable, safe quietness as the wind whipped and howled against the sturdy workshop building. Jack even managed a shy giggle as his body reacted in a painfully familiar way to such close contact, instead of his usual flee-and-hide response.

The twins gave the tented sweatpants a cursory glance, and both of them chuckled and Dieter even briefly shoved down the front of his pants to show off his red briefs, complete with matching tent, but for now, nothing further was said, and the three boys ate their warm soup in comfort.

Bruno joined them some minutes later, after cleaning up the last traces of Jack's embarrassing incident and hand-washing the colt's jeans and boxers in the large trough of a sink in the bathroom. The stag had left the teenager's clothing hanging above the sink to drain out the worst of the water, and joined the three boys up in the workshop lounge.

His heart swelled and thumped in his chest with pride at seeing Jack so overtly comfortable with Dieter and Kristian nestled in on either side of him. The tent in his sweatpants was overt and, Bruno supposed, more trouble than it was worth to hide, and he was pleased to see Jack not stressing himself out over it. His mind couldn't help but consider the colt's home situation. Annabelle, as far as he could tell, was a forthright and gentle woman, often brusque but never uncaring, and certainly not capable of causing such lingering trauma in her son's mind. So Jack's father must have some role to play there. Jack's immediate response to accidentally wetting himself had been painful to observe, and a little spark of anger ignited in Bruno's heart to see it, aimed at the man who, it would seem, had beaten such fear of reprisal into his son.

There was a tiny, ancient television with bunny-ear aerials and a chunky wooden frame up in the workshop lounge, too, and once he'd finished eating his soup, Kristian stood up to turn it on, giggling quietly and very subtly jutting his hips forward to show Jack that... yeah, it happens. The colt blushed, and flickered his ears back, his eyes darting across to Bruno, who just smiled warmly.

"See? I toldya Jack, this is a safe space. Nothing bad's gonna happen here," Bruno murmured quietly, sitting in a deep armchair across from the sofa occupied by the three boys.

"Safe with us, buddy," Dieter echoed, hugging tightly around Jack's waist and resting his head on the colt's shoulder, eliciting a little squeak and a squirm from him, and a little throb from Jack Junior.

With the TV tuned to a grainy, shaky image of some motor racing, Kristian returned to his brother and the mule, plopping his butt down beside Jack again and lifting his hooves up onto the sofa beneath him, curling up and resting against the colt's side. It was such a natural thing for him to do - typically it would be Bruno sitting where Jack was at that moment, and the only natural thing the colt felt he could do was lift his arm. He did so tentatively, resting one arm around each of the fawns, who bleated happily and snuggled into him all the tighter.

Bruno stood, and collected the boys' soup bowls, carrying them all downstairs again to wash up. He took the opportunity to hang Jack's pants and underwear over the brazier to dry. They were cheap clothes, and well-worn. Annabelle evidently wasn't doing as well for herself as she made her clients believe. Jack was her only dependent these days, and Bruno knew well enough that the rent on the east side of town was low compared to down by the coast. The buck frowned, and rummaged for a moment through a small chest of drawers to find a needle and thread. Bruno had always been the kind of man who felt obliged to fix things he could see were in need of repair, so it took him only a few minutes to patch up a couple of small holes in Jack's jeans. He wouldn't mention it, but it gave him a feeling of satisfaction to have it done.

Upstairs, Dieter watched their father head down, and turned to Jack, resting his head lightly on the colt's shoulder with a quiet giggle. "Does yours really get hard every time someone touches you?" he asked.

Jack blushed, and nodded silently, his largely unrestrained penis giving an involuntary twitch and a flex inside the soft sweatpants borrowed from Bruno, a little streak of wetness darkening the pale grey, fleecy fabric from the inside. "Y-yeah. It's so embarrassing... I dunno why. Like... you know... how it feels when you rub the tip of your c-cock, right? I um... I get that same feeling whenever anyone touches me, anywhere on my body... it's almost painful, so bad!"

"Whoa, really?" Kris perked up his ears and squirmed a little against Jack's side. "That's kinda cool, but it must be hella annoying. D'you think it'd get better if you got LOTS of hugs and stuff?"

Dieter snorted quietly with laughter, and shuffled around, stuffing a hand down the front of his own jeans to tug and adjust himself briefly. "Gah, now I'm hard too. And we're probably all gonna be hard all night if we all have to sleep up here together!"

Kristian made a subtly horny little noise, shoving the front of his pants down - but not his briefs. He flexed a few times, making the rigid little tent in his tight briefs bounce and jump, before pulling his pants back up to cover it. "Uh huh. I've had a stiffy since we got up here!"

Jack's nostrils flared at that, and the mule gave a soft huff, squirming a little and feeling his heart race a little. Turning to Dieter, he stammered; "Um... do you guys... ya know... mass... debate?"

Dieter looked up into Jack's eyes for a moment, a slow grin parting his lips. "Do we masturbate? Uh... yeah, duh! Don't you?"

Jack was about to formulate a response, but at that moment the sound of Bruno's heavy hoofsteps on the wooden stairs cut through his consciousness, so he just nodded and stifled a quiet giggle. He was really starting to feel comfortable with Dieter and Kristian.

Bruno had filled a bowl with candy and sweets, being careful to avoid the chocolate coffee beans Alessandro was so fond of, and thumped steadily back upstairs. Handing the bowl with a little wink to Jack, who, with his arms still around the twins, could only blush in embarrassment as Bruno rested the bowl in his lap, the enormous buck took his seat in his armchair again, and sighed. "Well... I checked the weather forecast. Looks like we're definitely going to be spending the night here, since we all only have bicycles to get around on. The city's grounded all public transport too and issued a warning for people not to drive unless absolutely necessary until midday tomorrow. Sounds like it'll be a wild night."

"Um... where are we gonna sleep, dad?" Dieter asked, looking around at the collection of beanbags and couches around them. The workshop lounge was comfortable enough for one person to sleep in, maybe two at a pinch, but four?

Bruno leaned forward, reaching into Jack's lap and grinning like a child at the mule as he rummaged through the bowl of sweets. Munching thoughtfully on a handful of licorice sticks, he glanced around. "Well... I think we'll all have to stay up here, if that's alright with you lot. I'm happy to sleep right here with a hoofstool, and if you stack up enough cushions and stuff I'm sure the three of you can sleep on that sofa..."

As the evening progressed, and the storm continued unabated outside, Bruno was the first to doze. Before he could properly fall asleep, he made one more trip downstairs, to fetch blankets and whatever else he could find to keep them warm in case the power went out. He turned off the lights and carried a workshop stool upstairs, arranging a cushion on it and positioning it such that with his armchair reclined he could lie almost flat. It was about the best he could manage, and it was comfortable enough. The three boys, meanwhile, had stacked up beanbags and cushions against the big sofa so that the three of them could lie down side by side with their legs on the cushions, each with his own blanket. Dieter and Kristian slept side by side, giving Jack the most room. With the lights dimmed, the boys soon heard low, rhythmic snoring coming from their father, and exchanged a glance and a giggle.

"Mmmf. Jeans are so uncomfortable," Dieter whispered, shuffling around beneath his blanket. With much kicking and flailing, he tugged his pants off, and laid back with a sigh of relaxation. Kris did the same moments later, and Jack swallowed heavily. The sweatpants he was wearing were Bruno's, and he'd already made a mess of his own jeans... thinking of other things that might come out of his penis, the colt untied the drawcord. Just in case.

"G'night Jackie," Kris whispered into Jack's ear, giving the colt a soft hug and pressing briefly up against his side.

Jack covered his mouth to stop from making a sound as he surged yet again to erection - although by the feel of it, Kris was already there, a small, stiff tent prodding Jack's thigh. The colt pretended not to notice, although with a little surge of naughty excitement he did lift the waistband of his sweatpants, exposing the dappled pinkish-brown, blunt tip of his erection and trapping it between his belly and waistband as Kris pulled back again, although not very far. His hips gave an involuntary little grind upwards and he flared a little, his mind travelling to what the twins looked like down below. One of his hands rested on his half-exposed penis, just holding it and lightly brushing his thumb side to side across his semi-flared, sensitive tip, his eyes slowly fluttering closed of their own accord.

Several minutes passed, and the twins beside him made not a single sound, so Jack assumed they were asleep.

His mind racing, the colt's hand crept ever so slowly across the small space between himself and Kristian. A fraction of an inch at a time. The moment his fingertips contacted soft fur, he froze, ears swiveling around to ensure the fawn still slept. Ever upwards his hand travelled, until it found the lower hem of Kristian's underwear. He was wearing briefs, it seemed. Smooth ones. Jack subtly pushed the waistband of Bruno's sweatpants down and tucked it beneath his balls, using his other hand to gently squeeze and rub himself back to erection yet again, as if he ever needed to put any effort into that.

Swallowing heavily, Jack's hand raised a little, and he delicately pressed his palm against Kristian's crotch. The deer was soft, and Jack was ever so slightly disappointed, until he felt it swell. He was getting a stiffy, right there in Jack's hand! The mule bit his lip and tried his best to calm his breathing, his fingertips tweaking gently at the swelling penis inside that smooth fabric. Within moments Kristian was erect, and Jack could feel the outline of his penis beneath the tightly stretched fabric of his briefs.

"Hey Jaaaaack... whatcha doin..."

The colt froze. The words were whispered in the quietest little breath right against his ear, and he trembled just slightly, his hand falling away.

"S'ok, keep going..." Kris whispered, subtly pushing his briefs down underneath the blanket, and finding Jack's wrist to guide the colt's hand back to his now exposed penis. "Feels nice..."

Jack's heart was hammering so hard in his chest he felt sure Bruno would be able to hear it across the room, but the stag continued snoring, and behind Kristian, Dieter's quieter, lighter snores confirmed it was only him and Kristian awake. Jack's leg kicked out softly and he huffed as he felt Kristian's hand on his chest, the young stag shuffling a little closer to his new friend.

"I... S-sorry..." he whispered back to Kris.

"Don't be," the stag responded without a moment's hesitation, the boys' voices the barest of whispers even within the constant howl of the blizzard outside. "Can I touch yours?"

Jack nodded, then remembered it was dark. "Yeah... Careful... I s-sometimes cum suddenly..."

Kristian's ears perked at that and he grinned in the darkness, allowing his hand to slowly travel down Jack's chest. He was expecting to find a tent in some sweatpants, so when his fingertips bumped against an exposed, erect equine penis he gasped softly, burying his muzzle in Jack's neck to stifle his giggle. The colt's hand squeezed around Kris's penis lightly, and the stag pushed his hips forward, sliding his short, circumcised member through Jack's fingers as his own curled experimentally around his friend's erection.

"Yours is different," he whispered, his gentle, faltering grip mapping out the shape of Jack's penis. "Big... and your head's real thick..."

"Y-yeah... and it gets b-bigger too... feel this!" Jack breathed excitedly, guiding Kristian's hand up to curl around his glans and giving a firm, extended clench, and a little push upward. Jack could feel Kristian's excitement throb and pulse firmly in his hand as the mule deliberately flared in his new friend's grip, his glans broadening and swelling outward, becoming smooth, firm and spongy.

"Whoa!" Kris exclaimed, perhaps a little too loudly.

Both boys froze as Bruno snorted loudly and shifted in his sleep, and Jack slapped a hand over his muzzle to hold back a nervous, excited laugh. He swallowed thickly, and flexed his erection again in Kristian's hand, to feel the stag flex his right back at him! Jack squeezed, and experimentally ran his fingertips over Kristian's glans, finding a little drop of slipperiness at its tip, which he slid around the buck's head with his thumb.

"N-no one has ever um... made mine cum before..." Jack murmured, almost silently, into Kristian's ear, his breath warm and a little shaky, and his words elicited a firm squeeze from Kristian and an excited wriggle.

"Really? C-can I? Me an' Deets do it to each other sometimes but mostly we rub our own..." Kris murmured right back.

"Mmhm! Ooh... it...it's so much less embarrassing in the dark!" Jack giggled ever so quietly, turning very slightly towards Kristian. "J-just um... m-move your hand up and down... uh... over my ring... that bit, yeah!"

With the mule's gentle instruction, Kris quickly found the equine's medial ring, and curled his hand around it, giving a firm squeeze. Jack was really hard! It was long, much longer than his or Dieter's, but slenderer, aside from that flared, mushroom tip. Kris was more than a little bit jealous of that. The mule's body trembled beneath their blankets, and he breathed softly and shallowly, as Kristian found a rhythm. His stroking was awkward, being that he was using his off-hand, but with concentration he found a cadence that seemed to make Jack arch and push his hips upwards.

In a cacophony of hushed giggles and gently flailing legs, and heated little breaths, Kristian and Jack masturbated each other with Dieter and Bruno asleep only a few feet away, as the storm of the century howled with rage and plucked at the heavy shingles of the workshop roof. Here, inside, in warmth and mutual exhibition, Jack felt properly safe for the first time... ever, he suddenly realised.

His thoughts were derailed as Kristian increased his pace, the mule's hand holding Kristian's penis against his velvety soft tummy fur and rubbing up and down, side to side across the fawn's frenulum, as Kris had instructed him to do... that was how Kris did it himself if he wanted to be stealthy!

"Oh! I'm gonna... w-what... h-how are we gonna clean up?!" Jack suddenly asked in a moment of desperation.

But it was too late by then. The familiar, tightening heat and pressure of his orgasm had built beyond his ability to control, and Jack bit his fist painfully to stifle a bray of pleasure, as Kristian's hand brought the colt easily and quickly to orgasm, the rhythmic throb of his flared penis accompanied by a little flurry of sticky, warm streaks onto his tummy.

Kris made a strangled little noise as he felt his friend throb and pulse like that, knowing exactly what was happening beneath the blanket! He nudged Jack's hand away from his own straining member, instead opting to press firmly up against the colt and vigorously hump his thigh for the last few moments of his buildup. Holding Jack's penis in his hand, and panting lewdly into the mule's ear, Kris exhaled shakily, and shuddered, a little splash of warmth soaking through Jack's pelt to his skin beneath.

*

Dawn made barely a mark on the world the next morning.

The very slight lightening of the sky came late, and made a feeble attempt to break through the dense blanket of cloud and snow, if only to illuminate the wreckage the storm had left. Even for a town well prepared for wild weather blowing in off the vastness of the ocean, the previous night had taken a toll.

Dieter woke first, roused by a desperation from his bladder. The fawn rolled to his hooves as quietly as he could, noticing with a gasp the way Jack and Kristian were entangled, the colt's sweatpants on the ground beside the sofa along with Kristian's underwear... Blushing brightly, Dieter crept downstairs and into the bathroom.

"Ugh! Dammit... morning stiffies..." he bleated to himself in the mirror, his morning erection jutting rigidly upward out of his groin as he pushed his underwear down, staring him right in the face.

With an impish little grin, Dieter stood right in the middle of the bathroom, and put his hands on his hips. Legs apart, he jutted his hips forward... and released. It took a while, but once his stream began there was no stopping it. He aimed it at the shower, watching it arc upwards into the air and down to the ground, swirling around the floor drain some eight feet from where he stood.

Of course Dieter had forgotten to close the door. Bruno came downstairs moments after Dieter, mostly asleep still, and barged right in without checking. Dieter bleated loudly and hunched, and Bruno just stared.

"I...D-dad! Um... b-boner... wouldn't go down..." Dieter explained hurriedly, his stream slowly easing, causing him to need to shuffle forward to ensure it didn't make a mess of the whole bathroom floor.

"Mmhm. You act like I should be shocked," Bruno replied, his voice thick and heavy with sleep. "I live with you, remember?"

With that, the older stag unfastened his jeans and dropped them, his own morning erection bouncing free. Dieter almost turned inside out, and he tugged up his underwear once again, openly staring as Bruno mirrored what he'd just caught his son doing, standing with his hands on his hips to allow his morning stream to arc high, splattering against the shower wall.

Once done, he shook himself off, and stepped in to turn on the shower to rinse their transgressions away, flashing a grin at Dieter.

"It's rude to stare, Deets... I gather you noticed what Jack and Kris got up to last night too?" Bruno smirked.

"Well yeah... I kinda wish I'd been awake for that!" Dieter replied after a moment, glaring down at his still raging erection tenting out the front of his briefs.

Bruno's, meanwhile, had receded, and he tucked himself neatly away with a wink. "Well I'm going to be down here for quite a long time preparing breakfast, so... if you want to go upstairs and take care of yourself, I promise I won't barge in."

Dieter just grinned cheekily, and darted out of the bathroom and back upstairs, to where Jack was just beginning to wake up, in more ways than one...

***