FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

This story was written for Nbowa as part of my patreon request days for March 2018. It contains M/M sex between consenting adults. :3

Game On

All through practice, every day this week, Bradley had been getting attitude from Desmond. Not just criticism, he could handle criticism if it was coming from someone who knew what the fuck they were talking about. But Des, he just kept going on and on about how the lion was too old for the game now. How he was getting slow, how if he was their age without years of experience on his side, he wouldn't be shit compared to any one of the team's younger players.

At first, Bradley let it slide. The tiger was talented, there was no doubting that. He had raw skill on the field, and it had gone to his head. Back on his high-school team he'd been the king of the castle. Drowning in all the attention he could take. But here, at college, he was just a newbie. A second stringer hungry for a chance to prove himself as something more, and frustrated that the team's star QB wasn't just gonna roll over and let him take some of the glory he was used to. Some attitude was to be expected, however frustrating it might have been.

But then... then Desmond started getting others involved. Bringing a whole group of the other freshman players with him whenever he came to spout off about Bradley or one of the other junior or senior year players. He never let his insults drift beyond the field of course, and when one of the other young players spoke up with some insult that had nothing to do with football, Des was quick to bring down his frustration on that player far more intensely and seriously than he had with any of the older guys. But the mocking, the teasing, the age jokes wore thin pretty damn fast. So much so that by the end of that next week of practice, Bradley was on the very brink of losing his cool and doing something less than professional to put the tiger in his place.

"Good pace, keep it up, Grandpa! Don't let the rheumatism get ya!"

Desmond jogged past Bradley, followed by several other snorting, chuckling freshmen as they ran laps during an endurance exercise. The words weren't anything new, but the playful slap to Bradley's ass which the lion received as those words rang in his ear and Desmond grinned while passing him by... that was the final straw.

After that run, they had catching drills.

Desmond ran back to intercept the first pass thrown to him... and cried out in shock as he was unexpectedly tackled to the ground the second the ball entered his grasp. He looked up, wheezing in unexpected shock at the impact, and stared through his helmet guard at Bradley, the lion's eyes gleaming and teeth bared playfully.

"You wanna be good as me, rookie? Gotta stay sharp! Always expect that tackle!"

Once might not have made much of an impact, but when Desmond got tackled to the ground as he went for his second catch, and his third, and fourth... people started to laugh. They watched as the tiger and his catching partner tried to find a spot around the field where Bradley couldn't wait in the wings then rush out to intercept. By the time more than half a dozen passes had been thrown and more than half a dozen passes had resulted in Desmond crashing to the ground at Bradley's behest, half the team was gathered around and watching in amusement as the rookie got put in his place. The tiger wouldn't give in though, snarling as over and over again he tried to dodge or avoid the QB, only to fail and tumble to the ground heavily once again.

"God fucking dammit!"

The tiger finally snarled as the coach blew the whistle for end of practice just seconds after he had been tackled to the ground one last time.

"Showers, everyone."

The older, stocky zebra coach yelled to the players, pointing at both Desmond and Bradley as they dragged themselves back to their feet.

"Except you two. You guys get the privilege of tidying up all the equipment today, because clearly the actual training I set for you wasn't enough to keep your focus."

Neither one of them tried to argue. It was one thing to bicker and fall out amongst themselves, but coach? Coach's word was fucking divine proclamation. Thus, for almost half an hour longer, they stalked across the field gathering balls and cleaning away markers. They didn't speak, just glaring across the field at one another while aware of coach's distant and continued gaze from the stands. Finally though, when the field was clear, he jerked a thumb towards the shower block one last time before turning and walking away, not even bothering with a lecture. They knew what the fuck the problem was, and it was down to them to solve it.

By the time Bradley and Desmond reached the locker rooms, they were silent and unoccupied. They remained quiet as the two men stripped down, peeling off their padding and the uniforms that accompanied them, both caked in grass-stains and grime from the repeated tackling that they had both partaken in. They glanced towards one another as they removed layer after layer of clothing until nothing remained, and with Bradley leading their naked forms stalked into the showers, again utterly devoid of life beyond the two of them.

The pipes creaked. The showers hissed into life, and after a brief moment of dousing the tiled floor beneath them with cold water, warm steam began to rise.

Bradley stepped under the water's flow, but didn't begin to wash. Didn't move at all as he stared at the wall with the water raining down over his lush mane, soaking through its plush fur and slowly beginning to weigh it down, to mat it against his face. He was tense, immobile as he heard damp footsteps padding through the room behind him. He heard a rumbling growl, and finally, he felt a pair of arms wrap around him from behind... and lips kiss him on the back of the neck.

"You got mad at me. Really, actually mad."

A clawed hand traced down the front of Bradley's chest, running through the fluffy fur upon his taut stomach and down until the claws retracted suddenly, and the fingers to which they were attached wrapped themselves around the currently soft, though still plump length of Bradley's cock. A deep growl escaped the lion, but it was immediately followed with a sigh.

"Yeah, I did. I am."

The hand on his cock began to squeeze. To stroke, and as a few more kisses were peppered across his shoulders and neck, Bradley felt his member beginning to swell in response to the tiger's fond touches. He was about to open his muzzle once more, to speak again, when Desmond did so instead.

"You were the one who said you wanted to be challenged. Who said you were tired of being treated like a god when you're just a guy. Made to feel like you were carrying the whole team on your back. You were the one who asked me to take you down a peg or two. To make people see that you're just another part of the team. Was that a lie? Did you... what? Did you say that to me so I'd humiliate myself trying to stand up to you?"

Bradley's eyes widened, and he turned sharply on the spot. His hands grasped urgently at the sides of the tiger's face, and he drew them close together, eye to eye, nose to nose.

"Hey. No. I wouldn't. I swear it. I... I just... look, I don't know, okay? I thought I wanted to be knocked of my pedestal. I thought I just wanted to be another member of the team, to take shit from other players just like everyone else. But... fuck. Fuck, I don't know. Maybe I do just wanna be worshipped and adored. Maybe I don't wanna have folks tell me when I'm wrong even when I know it myself. Maybe I'm already the kind of arrogant asshole player I fucking swore I'd never let myself turn into."

Desmond chuckled softly, leaning forward and kissing the lion gently upon the lips as warm water rained down around them. His hands slid over the other big cat's strong body, down his flanks and around to grip at the cheeks of his tight ass. Tugging the other male's hips forward slightly while rocking his own, their cocks, both rock hard by now, grazed against one another. Both men purred loudly.

"You aren't, trust me. I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't do shit for you if you weren't a kickass QB... and a good dude in general."

The lion's cheeks flushed beneath his lush fur, and he sighed, sagging slightly within the other man's embrace.

"Goddammit. How the hell do you always know just what to say? How to push my buttons... no matter what kind of buttons they are?"

Desmond grinned toothily, nuzzling against Bradley with intimate tenderness.

"Maybe god. Maybe luck. Maybe you just bring out the best in me. I never felt this way about any guy before you... and I hope to hell I never have a reason to feel it about any guy after you. Now... if that tired old body of yours hasn't broken a hip from tackling me all afternoon, old timer..."

Bradley growled in warning, but both men descended into teasing, playful laughter mere moments later. They kissed once again, and Desmond began to turn Bradley around on the spot even as he finished his sentence.

"...show me that ass of yours, and let's see what other buttons I can find to push."

By Jeeves

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