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The Perfect Pair

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Swimwear

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Ballsy Blaine

Graduation.

Some people would be ecstatic at the idea of finally leaving behind their studies and having some semblance of freedom. After being in school for nearly two decades, the average college student would be leaping at the thought of grabbing their diploma and never having to sit for another exam for the rest of their life.

But not Blaine Fluorite.

Graduation was just another sign that everyone else was moving on with their lives while he was still stuck being the partying fratboy. The long drive to Sohomo, Florida was a testament to that loneliness. Usually, he and his 'best friends' would rent out a bus or an RV and make the long trip down to the little-known Spring Break location. That was not the case this year and he found himself alone, roaring down the freeways in his bright yellow sports car.

Not that he minded.

Because who needs those fuckers, he thought bitterly.

Of course, the rational side of him brushed aside that bitterness. He couldn't really blame his friends. They were graduating and none of them had the safety net of being the son of a multi-millionaire. Asking them to fully rely on him - a 5'9'' athletic red fox who fully owned the trust-fund baby persona - was unreasonable. None of them were around just for his entertainment. They weren't his slaves.

And to prove it, he would have fun at this Spring Break all by himself.

He thought back to the phone conversation he had with Trent Russo about a week ago. He never gave a reason why he was arriving earlier than the rest of his usual posse or why he had insisted Russo finish cleaning the pool _before_he got there. It had all to do with his fragile pride. Even having Russo ask him why he was coming alone would be a painful bruise to his ego that he doubted he would recover from.

Not that it mattered. He'd maybe have to spend a week or so with the skinny orca's judgemental gaze before he'd be back off the college... back to college to face the reality of his friends graduating and leaving him behind while he remained a 'perpetual student leeching off his dad's money'.

Those were the exact words that his twin brother, Boris, used against him.

Unlike him, Boris had graduated a year ago from his double degree in mathematics and business. He was now one of the executives in their dad's accounting firm. As the elder twin, Boris had all these expectations put upon him while Blaine was left behind and neglected.

No... That's not fair, Blaine mentally sighed.

His father and Boris had both given him plenty of opportunity to catch up but he never put in the effort. Perhaps it was the crowd he hung out with or just his general attitude but for the longest time, he had believed he could coast on the millionaire slacker lifestyle that he had fostered. Too late did he realise that was not the case and the gap between him and Boris had grown exponentially. Now... he didn't see any reason to even try to catch up as any attempt would always be met with the caveat that he was just trying to live up to his dad or twin brother.

It was a painful place to be.

A loud ringing interrupted the hardcore metal song that was blaring in his air-conditioned car. With a flick of the receive button on the steering wheel, he answered the call.

"What up?" he grunted, hiking his chin upwards in greeting even though there was no one around to see it.

"Blaine, it's me."

That familiar condescending tone mixed with just the faintest edges of pity; hard not to realise it was his brother Boris.

"Whatdya want, Boris?" he sighed, slouching in his seat with one paw on the steering wheel.

"Lucian just told me that you're on your way to Sohomo. Heading down there a little early aren't you?"

Truth was, he had left about a day ago so good on Lucian for covering for a whole 24 hours. His dad didn't pay the personal assistant/butler enough.

"I was bored on campus. I dinna have any finals left an' I wasn't gonna spend my Spring Break in th' house doin' nothin'."

"Don't you have your economics final in about three hours?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. "I meant I dinna have any finals I cared 'bout."

He could almost hear Boris shaking his head over the phone. "Blaine, come on. Dad is running out of patience. He's not going to entertain your frivolous activities for very much longer. You've got to show him progress or at least some form of self-improvement or else he'll cut you off!"

It was the same threats, same punishments and the same lectures every single time. He had grown so tired of the same tirades that he had learned how to tune them out. The sign that told him that Sohomo was just about ten miles away was his queue to flick his attention back to his twin brother.

"Hey, sorry big bro," he interrupted. "Imma gonna haveta stop ya right there. The ol' girl is running out out gas and I gotta fill 'er up. Talk later."

"Wait!" Boris cried_. "Promise me you won't do anything crazy! Dad's really short-tempered right now and if you do anything to make this worse -"_

Blaine hung up. Strange as it was, he was actually grateful for the silence of his smooth-running car. He wasn't lying though. His tank was about a quarter full and if he knew anything about Spring Break, it was that everyone would start fuelling up as they left. Waiting in queues was never his style so he drove up to one of the few gas stations resting on the outskirts of Sohomo.

Though the small sea-side town wasn't well-known in terms of Spring Break destinations, it still attracted thousands of college students who were willing to spend their money somewhere away from the main locations and still get some time with friends. A few years ago, the number of attendees had actually reached ten thousand and Blaine enjoyed being crowned the Spring Break King because of the lavished party he hosted at his beach home.

Of course that got him a strong reprimand from his father as the house got trashed in the process but it was worth it.

Hope this year will be the same. Gotta make up for the guys ditching me.

As he parked his car next to one of the three gas pumps, he shook the thought from his mind again. There was no use blaming his friends for wanting to move on with their lives and become independent. If his dad did make good on his threat to disown him, he'd need his friends to rely on.

He stepped up to the pump and froze. The digital display, clean pumping machines and multiple selections of petrol was definitely something new. For the past five years since he'd been coming to Sohomo, the gas pumps had always been those old, manual pumps with the analog tickers that didn't take credit cards. The fact that he wouldn't even have to interact with the guy in the store itself was so shocking that he stood there for a good minute before shaking himself to act.

Why am I so surprised?

A full tank of gas later, he decided to head into the store itself just to grab some snacks. It was with some relief that the same, red, rundown store still stared at him. Nothing had changed _that_much, it seemed. Stepping into the air-conditioned store, the familiar red and white tiled floor greeted him as it had every year. With a smile and that confusion fading, he grabbed a few family-sized packs of snacks and drinks, bringing them to the counter one by one. The cashier wasn't present quite yet but as he began stacking them, he noticed the door to the back room opening.

When he returned with his last armful, he stopped and stared.

The grey-furred mouse standing on the other side of the bulletproof glass was tall, statuesque and looked so ripped that the red collared shirt he wore looked about ready to burst from across his chiselled pectorals and shred itself across his sculpted abdominals. The guy stood at least seven feet tall and had a big, easy smile that was slightly tainted by something wet and gooey hanging from the corner of his muzzle.

"Ya got something right there, bud," Blaine said, gesturing at his own cheek.

"Oh," the rodent replied, swiping the droplet away before licking it off without a second thought. "Thanks."

Must've been some sort of frosting.

"Hey, you're Blaine Fletcher, right?" the mouse said, grinning.

"Fluorite," he corrected. "Blaine Fluorite. I legally changed my name. An' yeah. Why?"

"Trent was talking about you." The mouse gestured at his own name tag. "Keith Day. Think you grab gas with us every year."

Blaine shrugged as he paid for his supplied. "Probably. You're like the only gas station on this side of town."

The mouse glanced over Blaine's shoulder at the car outside. "Smoking ride. Didn't think your friends would fit in there."

"They wouldn't." Blaine gruffly grabbed the plastic bags and turned to leave. "Thanks for the stuff. See you later."

As he stepped back out into the warm, spring sun, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong. Though he had feigned ignorance, he _did_recognise Keith Day. Last year when he had been here, Day was small - just about 5'7'' - skinny and with so little muscle definition that a gentle breeze would have blown him over. It was understandable that he packed on muscle - people could grow to be that stacked and chiselled in a year - but the height?

I must just be getting paranoid. Could be a lot of things. Maybe he was just standing on a stool.

Blaine shook the thought from his head and tossed his supplies into the trunk of his car. Tank full up, he drove towards the western side of town, commonly known as the 'rich side'.

The summer home in Sohomo, Florida wasn't exactly a five-star hotel but it served its purpose as a getaway from college with easy access to the beach and enough rooms that he could house all of his friends in it for the week that was Spring Break before heading back up to class. There was other similar houses along what one could consider as the 'wealthy district' of Sohomo but that very same district maybe had - at most - ten such homes. Sohomo wasn't very well known and as far as Blaine Fluorite was concerned, he was the only one that came from a wealthy family that made the trip over here to throw a Spring Break party. The other owners of the other homes and their kids only use their homes occasionally for other holidays.

Blaine had been tempted many times to go to Miami or some of the other more popular locations but Lucian Garrows - his father's personal assistant - had constantly insisted that he go to Sohomo. Maybe it was because this was Garrows' hometown or maybe it was because this was where their beach house was located. Either way, this was the tenth year in a row that the 25-year old fox was going to spend his Spring Break in Sohomo.

It was the first time that he'd be coming here ahead of his friends, however.

The reason for that was because his friends were cramming for their finals and wanted to take as much time as they could to study before hitting Spring Break. In previous years, they had never really cared for finals. It never really mattered. But this year, they were flagged to graduate.

And Blaine... well... Blaine had been in college for five years now. His twin brother, Boris, had already graduated. His best friends had stuck around for the same five years. They had barely passed their classes together, remained undecided together and went to Spring Break together.

But this year was different.

This year, they wanted to graduate.

And they were putting in the effort.

"Fuckin' assholes," Blaine cursed as he drove up in his bright-yellow sports car towards the steel gates of his summer home. "I'll show them," he scowled. "I'll throw them the bitching-est party ever and they'll remember who's on top and never want to leave."

The gates opened at his command and he drove all the way up the bright red driveway. Without a care for where he was parking, he settled right next to the red pickup truck that was set right in front of his doorstep.

Has to be Russo.

There had been some sort of mix-up with the express delivery of the summer home's keys to his pool cleaner. Trent Russo had always been a sort of... afterthought to Blaine. The guy was kind of annoying and was desperate to get out of Sohomo. Every year, Blaine would get him to clean the pool under the guise that it'd get him invited to the party. One of these years, he'd not invite Trent and proudly exclaim that the orca was only ever invited out of the pity. Maybe this would be the year.

Would be a good excuse given how Blaine had wanted his pool and Jacuzzi cleaned well before he arrived. He was looking forward to a soak in the hot tub after having driven long hours to get here.

Blaine stepped out his car and grumbled to himself.

"Naw, that's stupid," he mumbled. "I'm angry at those assholes not Russo." He recalled that very strange request from the orca about a week ago.

If he's stuck in this dead end town, maybe he'd be a better hang than the 'graduates'.

"Hell, might even share a chick between us," he chuckled.

Eager for some personal contact and conversation since the drive here had been fairly lonely, Blaine headed straight for the rear of the house. The tell-tale sound of water splashing about told him that Trent was hard at work.

"Hey Trent!" he bellowed as he rounded the corner to the pool. "Ya almost done, bruv? I'm -"

He stopped dead in his tracks.

The orca standing by the pool in nothing but a pair of board shorts with the word 'Trace' on the rim, was not the Trent Russo he was familiar with. The guy was a beast. Standing at least seven and a half feet tall, the orca was thick all over with muscle covered in a gentle layer of fat and body hair. One could easily mistake his rotund belly to be the sign of obesity but that was a deception. The orca's dark skin with a coppery tinge were stretched taut over a pair of pectorals that were distended just as far as his belly and when the light caught the white crest on his chest just right, it was possible to see the creases of abdominal muscles beneath all that body hair. Hell, the guy's thighs alone were like tree trunks complete with vines!

The orca looked up at him with bright, brown eyes. "Hey, Blaine! Sorry for the delay. The keys only arrived today."

Blaine had to do a double take. The voice definitely belonged to the Trent he knew only it was about an octave deeper. "Uhm... Trent?"

"And more!" Trent lifted a bicep, flexing it and immediately putting Blaine to shame. That mound was bigger than his head!

"What... Dude... what the fuck? What happened?"

The orca grinned broadly. "Simple. The Department happened. We joined up."

Blaine's left ear, the one with the diamond-stud earring, tilted off to the side in confusion. "The what?"

"You must've seen them by now," Trent said, hiking a big, meaty thumb over his shoulder. "On the eastern side of town? The old warehouse district? The Department of Social-Political Economic Reform and Maintenance moved in and fixed the place up. It's now _the_hottest location in town. They were hiring so lots of people joined up."

Lots of people...?

"You mean like Keith Day at the gas station?"

Trent beamed. "Yep! They let us keep our old jobs while the town is still transitioning but once everyone has basically signed up who wants to, we'll get new jobs and other benefits."

Blaine's eyes drifted towards the board shorts that the orca wore and the rather obscene bulge that was barely kept within. Were it not for the fact that Trent was sweating and those shorts were slightly wet, he could have sworn the orca was stuffing his junk to make them look bigger. No one could possibly possess those melon-sized testicles which accompanied by the thick, arm-like sausage that sat flaccid and stretching the bright blue fabric.

"Benefits, huh?" he mused.

"Hell yeah!" Trent leaned on the long rake that he was using the clean the massive pool surrounded by chairs, tables, tropical plans and flanked by the beach-white pool house. "The pay is awesome. Not to mention we get to work and hang out with our friends and the rest of the town in a friendly environment." He lifted an arm, flexing that huge bicep again. "The health benefits are a big seller too."

"You must've been hitting the gym hard an' downing some serious steroids, man," Blaine said, shaking his head in disapproval. "Ya know that shit'll make your balls shrink."

Damnit, I'm sounding like dad and Boris.

"Don't think that's really a concern," Trent laughed, shamelessly cupping his massive package. "No one else in the town seems to mind either."

Remembering Keith Day, he tilted his head in curiosity. "Jus' how many of ya are there?"

There was a strange glint in Trent's green eyes, almost predatory-like and he could have sworn there was a flicker of inky blackness from the corner of those pupils. "Oh... about 90% of the town has signed up right about now. We've got to get the rest of the stragglers ready before Spring Break hits in a couple of days."

That made sense. If Sohomo was undergoing some sort of transition, it wouldn't do well to have any sort of construction or confusion going around when the only major source of income started rolling in a few days from now. Should those ten thousand party-hungry teens and college students come rushing in only to find parts of the beach closed off or supplies running low because of whatever the Department was doing, they were less likely to return the following year.

"Shouldn't've arrived early then," Blaine muttered, crossing his arms behind his head. "Everythin's prolly closed..."

"You could always go down to the Department district," Trent suggested. "It's basically a huge mall now."

"If I wanted to get blasted with government propaganda I would've joined the military like Boris suggested that one time." Blaine turned around and waved absently over his shoulder. "No thanks..." He started heading towards the side of the massive ten-bedroom house, particularly the west-facing patio that had the Jacuzzi and an unobstructed view of the sunset when the time came. "Is the hot tub cleaned up?"

"Yessir!" came the enthusiastic reply.

Trent was always efficient. A bit of a scatterbrain and naive but efficient. The orca did what he did well but he often had these stupid half-assed plans to get laid or get married off to leave town that was a source of amusement for Blaine and the rest of his 'bros'. Thinking back, it felt wrong to make fun of the pool cleaner's dreams. Not everyone was as fortunate as him.

... and it's those kinds of people that grow and leave smucks like me behind...

The big hot tub sitting on the wooden patio was perfectly clean and when he switched it on, the smell of clean, chlorinated water came pouring out. He entered the house while it filled, checking for any supplies. Naturally, there wasn't anything given that he was the only one that really used the house. At least there wasn't anything green and growing that was left over from the previous year. That had been a terrible surprise two years ago.

A shopping trip was necessary when the guys get here.

Maybe I'll check out that new government-sponsored mall that Trent was talking up.

By the time he got back to the deck, the hot tub was already mostly full. He stripped off his clothes which had been marinading in his sweat for the better part of the twelve-hour drive. His white polo shirt fell to the side, revealing a fairly athletic build covered in coppery-red fur with a soft, white belly. There was a big emphasis on his chest as he absolutely hated how his white fur grew so dense and thick that it often obscured the curvature of his pectorals. He stropped off his tan khakis to reveal the swim trunks beneath along with his somewhat neglected legs. Blaine hated leg days but he did them once a week anyway. His thighs were nowhere near as big or defined as his upper body - or Trent's for that matter - but at least he wasn't grossly out of proportion.

The newest additions that he was sure his dad and Boris would disagree with were the two barbell piercings that skewered his nipples. Again looking back at how his chest fluff often obscured his pec progress, he had gotten the nipple piercing to help show exactly where his chest was.

Blaine slipped into the bubbling waters, sighing softly in contentment as the hours of being seated in the same position melted away. He lightly ruffled his naturally blonde hair and swung his arms over the edge of the hot tub, just leaning back and enjoying the contrasting warm, salty breeze with the bubbling heat from the tub. Finally, he managed to get himself to relax.

That was a mistake.

There was no one else around which meant he was left alone with his thoughts; those very same thoughts that were often drowned out by the company of friends.

What am I gonna do?

An overwhelming feeling of dread began to creep up on him, causing his cheeks to burn and the insides of his ears to turn pink. Fears of loneliness flashed before his eyes alongside a horrible image of him coming to Spring Break for the next few years, all alone, surfing on his dad's hard earned money while all his friends had gone off to get jobs. Every year, he would make that lonesome drive, sit here alone, tub bubbling away and though he'd throw the biggest party on Sohomo, it would be a fleeing escape from a harsh reality based entirely on solitude.

Fuck me...

He grimaced and ran a wet paw over his face.

"Hey Blaine."

As quick as lightning, Blaine adopted the exasperated fratboy's persona again and gave Trent a half-lidded stare. "Whaaaaaat?" he groaned. "Can't ya see I'm tryin' ta relax here? I had to drive for twelve-fucking hours, you know?"

"Twelve hours?" Trent asked in his surprisingly deep rumble. "Doesn't your dad's company work out of Manhattan? Isn't that seventeen hours from here?"

"I broke up the trip, you dumb piece of shit," Blaine cussed. He instantly regretted his words. No one could discern that automatically. Most people would break up the trip into two legs of eight or so hours instead of driving non-stop for twelve-hours after the first leg of five because they couldn't stand the silence of sitting in a hotel alone.

"Oh right, right," Trent laughed, slapping his forehead lightly. "Just wanted to tell you the pool is done. Gonna head off now unless you need something else?"

Blaine was just about to tell the orca to fuck off when he stopped himself. Some company would be nice and Trent was already in a pair of board shorts.

"Ya wanna join me?" he said, gesturing at the hot tub. "This thing has plenty of space even for a big boy like you."

Trent laughed, patting his belly lightly. The flesh didn't vibrate. That was mostly muscle in that gut. "You sure you don't mind?"

"We're gonna be hangin' out when the party starts anyway, right? Might as well start now."

"True enough!"

Trent, carrying his bag of tools and chemicals, moved towards hot tub and mounted the steps to get in. Only then did Blaine fully get to appreciate the sheer size and hairiness of the beast in front of him. There had to be some symbolism in the fact that Trent was an orca - a literal whale - and Blaine, a fox, was dwarfed by the sheer size of his frame.

Blaine's muzzle was moving before he could even think about what he was saying. "Shit dude. How the fuck did you get so fuckin' huge in a year!"

Trent slipped into the tub. His mass was so immense some of the water spilt over the edge. "Just been a week, dude. That's when we joined the Department."

He couldn't believe his ears. A year, he could believe even if there was some extra height that was added which was impossible in and of itself. But just a week? "No fucking way!"

"Way." Trent beamed at him. "The Department's health benefits package are fucking awesome." The orca reached down with a meaty hand, massaging his own package through the board shorts. "Emphasis on 'package'."

Blaine pointed accusingly at the coppery-black orca. "Okay, you gotta tell me if there's some weird government experiment shit going on. We're friends, right? Friends tell each other this shit?"

Trent cocked an eyebrow at him. "Friends? Really? Thought this job was the only thing that got us an invitation to your party and you kept us around just for laughs."

The accusation stung hard because it was partially true. Still, Blaine couldn't stop himself from offering an involuntary denial. "No!" He averted his gaze. "Okay... So maybe... yes. But we've been hanging out for years now. That's got to mean something."

"One week every year for every five years. Not sure that's exactly a 'friendship'."

Blaine held up a paw. "Okay, okay. So maybe I didn't treat ya that well. But we can start now, right?" He regarded Trent pleadingly, a stupid, lopsided grin on his muzzle. "Ya wouldn't kidnap a multimillionaire's son an' mess 'im up, would ya?"

Trent was clearly enjoying this and the orca turned towards the coast. The sun cast rather stunning contours across his features, glinting off the stubble on his cheeks while also highlighting the strands of muscle all over his chest and shoulders.

"Don't worry. The Department doesn't forcibly recruit people." He held up four fingers. "We ask you four times if you wanna join. It gets harder every time to resist but it's always your choice. Besides..." He turned towards Trent with a smug look on his features. "... we wouldn't want to bring in a mooching trust fund baby who relies on a dad is just barely worth two million."

Blaine was instantly on the defensive, the heat in his ears and cheeks taking on a different context. "Hey! That's still two million more than ya'll evah make! And I ain't a mooch!"

That smug smirk on Trent's features instantly made him deflate. "Hang on..." mumbled the fox. "Were you... were ya negging me?"

"Don't think that was really negging. Wasn't complimenting you or anything. Just telling the truth."

Blaine's muzzle scrunched up in annoyance. "I should kick you out right now."

"Like you could," Trent laughed, giving him a sidelong glance.

Given the size difference, he certainly couldn't. There was no one around. No security. No posse to help him. Such a revelation hit him with the crushing realisation that he was pretty alone. Blaine visible deflated and sank a little into the bubbling waters.

"Fuck... So even the government won't take me..." he muttered.

There goes my one and only lifeline if dad and Boris disown me.

If a small-time branch in a place like Sohomo won't take me, who else would?

"Never said that," Trent said.

Blaine's ears perked up and he frowned at Trent. "But you just said..."

"... that we wouldn't want a mooching trust fund baby who relies on a dad that is barely worth two million," finished the burly orca. "So you just have to be someone who isn't that."

Blaine snorted derisively and looked down, taking into view his moderately athletic frame, the coppery red fur, his white crest on his chest and the black 'gloves' and 'socks' that covered his fur down from his wrists and ankles. "That's easy for you to say. I've spent my entire life tryin' ta be someone that ain't under my dad's shadow or that ain't jus' my twin's brother. Basically impossible 'cuz when they look at me, all they see is 'em."

"Maybe that's because you're always trying to be someone who isn't them."

He tilted an ear at the hairy orca. "Huh?"

Trent lifted a hand out of the water. "If we were to offer you a position at the Department, what would you say?"

Blaine scoffed, turning away immediately. "I'd say that my dad wud prolly have a field day. He'd shit his pants thinkin' I might rat him out or that he'd come under investigation fer somethin'. Boris would prolly use it as a way to run fer office or somethin'."

He got a light poke to his shoulder from the orca for htat. "That's exactly the problem," Trent said with a grin. "Everything you do, you're comparing to what they would or would not do. You should just say 'to hell with them' and just do whatever suits you. Don't even _think_about what they'd want or how it'll affect them. You've done enough of that already."

"Can anyone really be that selfish?"

"Aren't_you_ Blaine Fluorite?" mocked the hirsute orca. "The guy who purposefully changed his name from Fletcher because he wanted to distance himself from his dad and brother? The guy who has been attending college for nearly seven years because he couldn't decide what he wanted to be even though his brother graduated years earlier? They guy who makes the drive all the way to Sohomo and throws the craziest party in town? Why do you care?"

Blaine's lips turned upwards slightly. "I guess that's the thing. I sort of always cared."

"Are you sure you cared or were just scared?"

Anger flashed before his eyes and he immediately turned back towards the orca, fangs bared. "Whazzat!?"

Trent was unapologetic and just regarded him with that same smug smirk like he knew something that Blaine didn't - which wouldn't surprise him. Despite over five years of college, Blaine still had a lot to learn in general.

"You're just scared, dude. Scared that you'll screw up so bad one day that your dad will disown you and your brother won't be there to cover for you. Everything you've done so far isn't that bad. Hell, it's probably what anyone would consider was typical for a guy like you. But you've never done anything _really_bad. You haven't gotten anyone pregnant. You didn't invest in some pyramid scheme and bankrupt your dad. You didn't _kill_anyone. You've been playing it safe. You wanna really be someone outside of the Fletcher name? Stop being scared and _do_something that's all about you."

Blaine's anger faded and he gave Trent a bored, half-lidded stare. "An' whaddya suggest? Join the Department of SPERM?" He pointed accusingly at the orca. "Dun think I dinna notice that."

Trent grinned shamelessly. "Yeah. That isn't exactly anything the Department is trying to hide. But let me ask you this." He held up a fist. "What are you really after in your life? Job security?" He unfolded a finger. "Money?" Another finger went up. "Comfort?" And up when the third finger.

"Honestly?" Blaine looked off to the distance, watching the waves slowly lap onto the bland, sandy shore. "If I could keep partyin' like it was Spring Break all the time, I'd be happy." A bitter laugh left his muzzle as he dipped it downward, dejectedly. "I dun think SPERM would let me do that."

"What about a hot shot bartender or DJ?" came the almost instantaneous reply.

His ears perked up in surprise. That _was_one of the careers he had briefly considered a long time ago. It was set on the wayside when Boris won a distinguished award at school in mathematics and Blaine realised that serving drinks or playing music would pale in comparison to that so he tried to launch his own rap-music career. That obviously failed.

"Tried but failed."

"Failed because Boris did something better?"

He inched a little away from Trent. "Dude, you're scarin' me. You were never this... uh... insightful?"

Trent shrugged his massive, hairy shoulders. "We grew up."

Yeah... seems like everyone is doing the same.

"Right," he mumbled, deflating again. "An' ya think joinin' SPERM would help me grow up."

"Sure do." With a grin, Trent flexed a bicep, showing off that huge mass that he had apparently gained in just a little over a week. Blaine blushed at the sight and turned his gaze away though he wasn't sure exactly why.

"Right... So what's in it for me if I join?"

Trent lowered his arm, the huge, meaty mass resting just behind Blaine like a thick, muscular cushion. The fox flinched at first at the proximity but then settled against the crook of the orca's elbow. Those muscles were surprisingly soft to the touch.

"Apart from the health benefits, you'll get awesome pay, paid housing, a comfortable lifestyle and..." Trent lowered his voice. "... all the sex you want."

Blaine cocked an eyebrow. "Ya serious?"

"Only with guys though," Trent added, straightening. "When you join up, you basically turn gay."

The fox's jaw dropped in surprise and suddenly, he was a little uncomfortable being so close to the orca. Not that he was homophobic but over the fear that he might suddenly be turned against his will. "You're... You're gay now?"

Trent grinned brightly. "Yep." Suddenly, the burly orca stood up, pulling his arm away from Blaine. The absence of that furry cushion became very evident to the surprised fox. "See these board shorts?"

"The one that has 'Trace' on it?" Blaine replied, eyeing the words just hovering above Trent's wide ass and thick tail. "What about it?"

"Watch carefully."

There was a loud, wet, splashing noise like the waves of the ocean being disturbed. Somehow, it could be heard over the bubbles. Blaine watched with slack-jawed shock as the very board shorts that Trent indicated lost it's fabric-like consistency and became shiny and gooey, almost like syrup. That very same slime suddenly retreated, sliding in between Trent's ass cheeks and disappearing.

"What the fuck!?" Blaine exclaimed, rising out of the hot tub.

Then Trent turned towards him... and his jaw hit the floor.

The beast the orca had hanging between his legs was like a third leg! It was as thick as a beer can and over a foot long flaccid. The balls hanging behind it were as big as melons! His retreat alone was stopped by the impossibility of the penis before him.

"The Department is based entirely around a lifeform known as the P3 Symbiont," Trent said. "Part of the Perfect Pair Program. You get bonded with the symbiotic creature, in this case, we got merged with Trace. Your symbiont makes you bigger, stronger, smarter. But also makes you gay. The Program's mission is to curb overpopulation and turn unproductive towns like Sohomo into new powerhouses of economic and societal output."

"So they're brainwashing you to not make babies and become their robots!?"

Trent shook his head. "Naw, dude. We _chose_this. We made the choice to join the Department. It gave us a direction in life that we're finally happy with. Seriously, you remember all those hair-brained schemes we kept trying to pull to get out of this town?"

He did. One year, Trent had tried to open a food truck and serve his food at Spring Break. Not a bad idea only he had no idea how to cook let alone cook for a large number of people who were either drunk, high or both. The first night, he had barely managed to pull it together and was so exhausted by the second night that he didn't even bother bringing the truck around from that point forward.

"So you're telling me you don't want to leave the town anymore?" Blaine accused. "Hasn't that been your thing for the longest time?"

"That's because we didn't know what we really wanted," Trent answered confidently. "We were searching for meaning in our life. A direction_that we could commit to. Leaving the town was just a symptom. The _disease was our lack of purpose. Now we have it!"

"Oh yeah?" Blaine slowly lifted a leg, placing it on the edge of the hot tub in preparation for a quick escape. "And what's that, huh? Recruiting and infecting others?"

"We don't like to use 'infecting'. We're 'integrating' them."

"Same thing."

Trent obviously ignored that comment as he continued. "And no. We're not going to be one of the major integrators though we're free to help out if the opportunity arises." Puffing out his chest, Trent said, "We're gonna be fishing!"

Blaine stopped his retreat. The orca certainly had the build for that. "For... What exactly?"

Trent winked at him. "Sorry. Can't tell you much more unless you join. But the Department is looking to turn Sohomo into something more than just the Spring Break town it always has been. You know? The kind of town that only ever really sees business once a year for about two or three weeks?" Trent looked off to the distance, hands on his hips and a bright grin on his face. "I'm really going to make a difference in the world."

That would've been a good opportunity to escape. He wasn't sure exactly what the capabilities of this new and 'improved' Trent were but he hoped that the orca's bulk would slow his pursuit. Yet... when he looked at Trent Russo, there was a... a contentment in his stance. There was still that ambitious fire behind his eyes but there was this... aura about him that Blaine realised he wanted.

He's happy with himself... and he's not scared.

Hell, he wasn't scared of showing me his freaky ass symbiont... or his freakishly large cock and balls... Which, admittedly, are pretty cool...

"So you're still not being mind controlled?" Blaine asked. That was really a stupid question to ask but he still had to ask it.

Trent bobbed his head from side to side. "Trace is part of me know and we've got urges and desires that can't be ignored." He pointed at his chest. "We're classified as a Breaker and that means we produce gallons of cum and precum and we're constantly hot. Not a metaphorical 'hot' either. Check it out." He held out his hand and Trent gingerly touched his palm with two fingers. The fox recoiled almost instantly.

"Shit! You got a fever or something?"

"Nope. Breakers constantly increase in temperature until we cum or cool ourselves down somehow. It's just part of how we work. That's why we have to be near water."

Wow that's weird...

"And you're gay."

"Yep. Shamelessly." Trent stuck out his tongue with a giggle. "Trust me, it isn't so bad. The Department encourages you to fuck as much as you want. Hell, if you headed down to the Department mall right now, you'll probably see a lot of people fucking right out in the open. It's just how we are."

Damn... That's... That's kind of awesome.

To be free. To be able to just pull your pants down and fuck whoever you wanted without a care in the world... that actually sounded really nice. Weird... but nice.

"Why are you telling me this?" Blaine asked. "I could just as easily run away now n' call someone. Boris is still in New York n' if I call him, he'll come runnin'. You've seen the movies. Even if I get brainwashed, he's gonna know n' blow the lid on this whole operation."

"I don't want to scare you," Trent said, holding up a hand, "but who is he going to tell? The Program was authorised from the United States Government. By the President himself, the Senate and the House. Hell, why do you think there was a 'shipping mix up' that delayed the keys to your place arriving?"

Oh shit...

"Why me?" Blaine croaked, edging closer to the edge of the tub.

Strangely, Trent sat back down in the tub, spreading his arms over the rim. "Because in a couple of days, there's going to be a lot of guys that'll start flooding this place looking for somewhere to spend Spring Break and you throw the biggest party in town. It'd be _really_suspicious if every guy that came here suddenly wanted to stay because they got integrated. Some of them are gonna want to join. That's a fact. Most of them are going to be right here. Whether or not you join, we'll need your cooperation."

"You want me to jus' look th' other way so the government can brainwash my friends!?"

"It isn't brainwashing," Trent said patiently. "Like we said, we ask you four times if you want to join up. Yeah, it get harder and harder to refuse each time we ask but it's always your choice. Even when you get fully integrated, you're still in control. You're still you. I'm still Trent Russo. Just..." He reached down beneath the waters and groped his sac. "... more."

Blaine swallowed hard. This was a critical crossroads. The fate of thousands of Spring Breakers rested on his shoulders... though he had no doubt that the Department was very likely to throw some sort of huge 'grand opening party' at their mall that'd get more people infected if he didn't throw his party. Some part of him thought that it'd be great to get 'integrated' and when his friends came over, he'd integrate them and they'd be together forever...

... but that wouldn't be right.

Boris would likely be opposed to this; would likely spout some jargon about communism or government control. His dad would _definitely_be against it.

But why should I define myself by what they do and don't want?

Blaine closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Slowly, he sank back into the hot tub waters. "It's not enough."

"Pardon?" Trent asked.

"It's not enough," he repeated, opening his eyes again and locking them fiercely at Trent. "Yeah, I'd love to have a monster cock n' balls like you. Be as big as you. Fuck all the time and shit, a secure fun job like a bartender or DJ? That'd get me signed up in a heartbeat _if_you hadn't told me ta think 'bout bein' me n' not how my dad or Boris would think about it."

The orca laughed softly. "Well damn. That backfired." He gestured gently at Blaine. "So what else do you want?"

Moment of truth here, Fluorite...

"Two things," he said, holding up two fingers. "First, Boris is gonna come to my rescue no matter what I say or do. I want ya to make sure that he gets exactly the same choice. Even if I become a sex-crazed faggot, he needs ta make the same choice to join or not."

Trent waved away the comment. "You might want to change that. That's a given. We're not about forcing people into this."

"I don't care. He gets the same deal, okay?"

"It's your condition," Trent said with a shrug. "It's pointless but sure. Is the second one, your dad?"

"Fuck no. Hell, if I get to destroy my dad's ass with my own monster dick, sign me the fuck up." His eyes narrowed. "Naw, bro. What I want is you."

Trent's eyebrows rose and for the first time, he was sure he had caught the orca off guard. "Huh?"

"I'm not goin' through this alone," Blaine said firmly. "You were assigned ta 'integrate' me? Well fuck me. You're gonna be there every step o' the way n' beyond that."

The orca's eyes narrowed and he slowly swam towards Blaine, looming over him. "If you're suggesting that we be your slave..."

"What?" Blaine immediately turned his gaze away. "Hell no. I just..." He gulped loudly. "I just don't want to be alone, is all. Even if I get to fuck every guy on the streets... that's still..."

Before he could answer, he suddenly found a soft, wet beak pressing against his muzzle, a long tongue sliding between his teeth and dancing against his own. His cheeks burned and his heart leapt up to his throat for the briefest of moments. The kiss was fleeting but Blaine immediately needed more.

"You might want to change that one too," Trent whispered softly, his deep, rumbling voice stirring Blaine's chest like thunder. "Because you already have us."

"H - huh...?"

Trent sat down right next to Blaine, his arm once again wrapped around Blaine's shoulders but there was a sense of familiarity... and more.

"There are three stages into the transformation," explained the hunky orca. "We change people through exchange of bodily fluids. The first stage involves us giving you a product that's infused with a bit of our precum. Ulric began my transformation when he gave me some sunscreen that had his precum in it."

"Ulric Webber? Your best friend?" He recalled the otter who had attended his parties every now and then. Webber wasn't a constant fixture like Trent, however.

"Yeah. In the second phase, you get directly exposed to my precum. Then in the third, my cum. It's more potent. But between phases two and three, there's an enforced break. We force you to wait until the next day before you enter stage three. That's because it gives you time to think. Time to yourself, to process everything that's happened and make an informed decision. You wanna know what happened during my break?"

Blaine cocked his head to the side. "What?"

Trent leaned towards his ears. "You send me that sex video."

His eyes went wide and his cheeks burned in embarrassment. "Oh shit... Dude, I was drunk and... not thinking straight and..."

Trent laughed softly, the vibrations from that massive chest reverberating through the water and gently massaging Blaine. "Dude, it was the sexiest thing we had ever seen. Though all our focus wasn't on the girl." He leaned down again, his lips just hovering over Blaine's ears and his breath tickling his fur. "It was on you."

His heart was pounding hard. Blaine had girlfriends before but he had never felt like this before. All those sexual partners had always been a sort of... status symbol to him. Misogynistic of him, yes, but the pressures of being a fratboy meant that he always had to have sex and have some sort of arm candy or else he'd have his masculinity questioned. This, however, this was differently.

There were butterflies in his stomach, his heart was beating like he had just sprinted a mile and - if his paws weren't underwater - his palms were sweating.

All he could manage was a fairly faint squeak.

"You helped us realise we liked guys," Trent continued. "And that we like it up the ass. We owe our transformation and all this, to you. So if you want us..." He leaned closer, his tongue snaking out a little and sliding up Blaine's ear, making the fox moan. "... you have us."

Blaine quivered, he couldn't deny that he was getting hard. "Ooooh shit..." Somehow, he managed to pull himself away from Trent's hypnotic words and hot touch. "... Fuck dude... You're layin' it on thick." He avoided looking at the orca for fear that he might fall in love. "... Ah... I just... I kinda meant that you'd always be there... That you wouldn't decide to just up and leave or... or... graduate and move on or something..."

"Is it so bad if we wanted you to be our mate?"

That made him turn towards the orca, his eyes wide in shock. "S - Seriously?"

"Fucking wouldn't be exclusively between us, of course. Sometimes, we Breakers just overheat so much we got to fuck to cool back down. But for us, you'd be the only one where fucking means something."

"W - What about Ulric?"

Trent glanced off to the side, a tinge of disappointment in his gaze. "Ulric and Gustav are more like our brother and dad. A hot fuck but hella-exciting when they're both in us at the same time but it's just that, you know? We love them but not in that way. You though..." He tilted his head to the side, almost pleading towards Blaine. "We know we haven't really been friends but you're the only other guy we really know and are close to. So.. What do you say?"

There was no denying the strange feeling in his chest. Blaine had never been with a guy but at the same time, no girl had ever been this earnest with him. It took him a second to realise why he felt this way.

Trent doesn't need my money or my body. He's got an amazing job, he can have all the sex he wants with far sexier men and he doesn't even need me converted...

... and yet he's still asking me to be his mate.

Even after all the times I've laughed at his back...

"I can't just fall in love with you," Blaine replied, stubbornly crossing his arms. "Yeah, we've known each other for years but it's only, like, two weeks every year for... I dunno, seven or eight years? That's nothing!"

Trent glanced away again, a light blush on his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his head. "Honestly, we weren't thinking of asking you to be our mate until way later."

"After I was fully in -" He stopped himself for second. "- integrated?"

The orca smiled lightly at him for the correction. "Way later. Our symbionts optimise our bodies and all its processes. This includes cellular reproduction. The program is still new but from what we've heard, we'll probably live to be well over a hundred and still look this good." Trent ran a few fingers down his hairy chest. "We figured we had to time to get to know you better and eventually become more than just work colleagues and friends but then you said you wanted us and..."

Blaine's heart immediately melted and he unfolded his arms. "Dude... That is so cheesy," he laughed softly.

So cheesy... but also honest... He's still... him.

"I can't promise that I'll feel the same way," the vulpine said, gently slapping the water with his paws. "But as long as you'll at least stay as my friend and be there when I need you, I'm in."

"Really?" Trent asked, his long, tail swaying excitedly and causing a few waves. "Sweet!"

Blaine, still nervous but nonetheless content with his decision, smiled. "So... I guess since we kissed I'm sort of on my way?"

"Sort of. Saliva kind of helps but it's mostly what comes from our cocks that begins the transformation."

"So... I got to suck you off?" He glanced beneath the waves at Trent's still-flaccid dick. "No offense dude, but I don't think I can take that. Not yet."

"Don't worry." Trent suddenly reached down towards his tool kit and pulled out what looked like to be a bag of bath salts. "This is what we were gonna use. It's some of our dehydrated precum restructured into bath salts. We were going to pour it in here after suggesting you looked stressed or something and then we'd fuck."

Blaine rolled his eyes at that. "Well fuck. Put that shit in!"

"Before we do..." The orca's green eyes locked with his intently. "Do you want to join the Department?"

That question's got to be a formality, I guess.

"Fuck yes!"

The burly orca grinned brightly, the sun glistening off his strong jawline and the stubble there. Blaine's heart skipped a beat again and he averted his gaze, brushing off the feeling likely to the chemicals that had probably started transforming him into one of these 'Breakers'. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Trent poured the entire contents of the big, blue bag into the hot tub. What tumbled out was a coarse, white powder that made the waters a little murky for a few moments before it eventually dissolved thanks to the churning bubbles. A pleasant sweet, musky smell emerged from the concoction, reminding him a little of the strong perfume one of his girlfriends once used - he couldn't remember which.

Blaine wiggled his black nose, sniffing the air as the pleasant aroma came from the mixture. "You know, baths are really kind of weird," he mused. "We're basically cooking ourselves in hot soup. We're even seasoning ourselves with salt!"

The orca gave him a lifted eyebrow. "Good point. Though anyone eating this soup would be in for a surprise." Trent sat back down, his sheer mass once again lifting the water level up.

The copper-red fox quivered a little. The tub's water remained quite warm and the bubbles proceeded to massage his frame. Perhaps it was a degree of anticipation for what was to come next or the fact that he felt a little overdressed now that Trent had retracted his symbiont into himself but he was starting to feel a little overheated.

"So... uh..." he began. "What's meant to happen? Are my shorts going to start talking to me or somethin'?"

Trent laughed softly, draping an arm around Blaine's shoulders and pulling him close. "C'mere."

The sudden proximity and the strength the burly orca displayed stirred that gently bubbling heat that was churning within Blaine's stomach. The butterflies in his stomach had caught on fire and were now flailing around, crashing into one another in a desperate attempt to try and put themselves out.

It's just the transformation. You're just scared.

Well... you can't be scared, Blaine. Not anymore.

"Tell us what you're feeling," Trent insisted.

Talking about feelings wasn't exactly a _manly_thing to do but he guessed that wasn't what Trent actually meant. "Nervous," he admitted. "Feels like I swallowed a bug zapper n' the butterflies in my stomach have caught on fire. Little overheated. Polly cuz' yer so close." Even as he said that, there was no desire to pull away from Trent. There was a comfort to be found in the orca's size and strength. "Little horny."

"Oh yeah?" Trent leaned down towards him, his breath wafting over Blaine's neck and causing a chill that ran down his spine. The contrasting sensations of the hot waters versus that cool breath caused his brain to short circuit with over-stimulation. It wasn't sure what to focus on and the moan that came from his muzzle was completely involuntary. When that long, flexible whale tongue danced up his neck, Blaine's toes curled in ecstasy. The fox voluntarily turned his head away, exposing his neck while biting his lower lip. Trent more than happily leaned closer towards the exposed neck, gently lipping at the soft, red fur and suckling on it tenderly.

"Okay...very horny now," Blaine admitted. "And hot..."

His vision was starting to blur from the heat. That hot bubbling sensation spread out from his stomach and to his chest like his blood was being heated within his veins and bubbling uncontrollably. He tried to shift in an attempt to cool himself off and the action became an involuntary thrust of his hips. The disturbance in the water caught his attention and he valiantly tried to refocus his gaze on his crotch. His attempt was immediately met with another advance of the fiery sensation, this time shooting towards his shoulders. Muscles immediately spasmed and his arms inadvertently reached out to grab whatever he could. His right paw seized the edge of the hot tub while his left grabbed Trent's meaty pectoral.

Holy shit... He is so big!

And that chest hair...

Perhaps it was instincts or just the fact that he hadn't had gotten off for a few days, but he ran his fingers through the orca's thick chest, fingers gliding across the dense, wet mat. His cock vibrated in approval. At an impressive seven inches long, his dick was tenting his shorts.

"Oh fuck..." he mumbled, lowering his right paw and starting to slide off his shorts. Trent's other hand reached down, grabbing the other side of his shorts and together, they removed the bothersome garment, letting it float away into the maelstrom of bubbles. Squirming a little more, the flash of heat travelled down towards his arms, compelling his fingers to gravitate towards cock. His fingers brushed up against something molten hot and instantly recoiled... until he realised that it was Trent's own, meaty digits.

He let out a soft gasp as the orca's hot hand closed around his modest cock. The grip was soft, gently and big enough that it enclosed his entire cock with frightening ease. The touch was electric; sending waves of energy coursing throughout Blaine's body and making him tilt his head back. Liquid fire surged down to his legs, making him absently lick and flail until his left leg found purchase against one of Trent's muscles - he assumed it was the calves. Desperate for any sort of way to keep himself from thrashing about, he instinctively curled both legs around Trent's, having to turn himself to face the orca.

That gesture alone caused their lips to meet. Inhibitions burned away in the churning violence of his overheated body and he dove into the kiss, sloppily flailing his tongue around in the wide, orca beak, body intertwined with the copper-black, hairy whale with eyes shut. Most of his other senses had shut off, his vision blurred and unseeing, his nostrils assailed by the thick, perfume-like scent of the corrupted bath salts and his skin afire with the burning sensation that assailed his body.

All the while, his cock ached and, in need of release, he grabbed the hand holding his member, pulling it upwards to begin stroking.

To his surprise, Trent broke the kiss and released his dick.

"We've got a better idea," rumbled the orca, suddenly rising. The absence of the whale's hot touch left Blaine surprisingly cold... until the heat of his body began to rise again within a second later. He whined, desperate for release and unashamedly jerking his meat beneath the waters.

Blaine's eyes went wide when Trent positioned himself on the other side of the hot tub, lifting his long, muscular tail and exposing that tight, pink pucker to him.

"We want you in us," Trent cooed. "Breed us like you bred that meerkat."

Blaine didn't need further prompting.

The overeager fox jumped to his feet, splashing about in the pool until he was right behind Trent. There was a brief chill that came from his body being exposed to the cool winds after having just emerged from a hot tub that was now only half-full of water. That was fleeing as he grabbed the orca's soft, muscled ass and inched his dick closer to the hot rear entrance. Blaine fell into a trance-like state, giving in fully to his body's whims.

Oh fuck... I'm going to fuck a guy... I'm gonna be... I'm gonna turn...

The moment the tip of his deep red cock touched the Trent's flesh, it was all over. Blaine was assaulted by a tsunami of fire. Trent's grip on his cock had sent crashing waves that had deprived him of his sensibilities but this... this had drowned him in ecstasy, forcing him to surrender his entire body to its baser instincts. A feral growl rose from his throat and he forcibly shoved his cock up to the knot deep into Trent. The orca let out a low grunt followed by a low moan as Blaine mercilessly pulled back out. Half a second later, he was driving his cock back in, desperate to ram his knot into the whale beneath him.

Blaine ploughed deep again, an explosion of fiery bliss shooting back into his body and sending him quivering in its wake. His balls slapped loudly against Trent's, the touch of the two symbionts together triggering a deep churning within Blaine's testicles. The already impressively sized golf-ball organs gurgled loudly as Blaine repeated another thrust. They inflated, ballooning out to strain his furry, white sac with their size. With their increased size came increased sexual drive and production. Precum was pouring out of his cock like a river and within moments, there was a steady stream of clear slime dripping from Trent's ass, brought out with every time Blaine pulled back to ram his dick back in.

A deep, frustrated growl rose from Blaine's chest as his next attempt got his knot to just inch into Trent's ass. That fiery frustration burned into his muscles. As his hackles rose, so too did his shoulders. Hard rigid muscles inflated across his back, his traps rising to form a gently slope towards his nape. Curves quickly appeared across his back with each thrust, flexing and relaxing rapidly with the rhythm. His grip on Trent's ass strengthened, chords of blue-green veins streaming out from the back of his paw and crawling up his forearms, connecting with similarly rising veins that rushed down from his ballooning shoulders.

The growl he emitted grew deeper and louder. His already defined chest stretched out, two rising mountains that grew to rapidly obscure his vision of Trent beneath him. His twin black nipples became like volcanoes of pleasure as his nipples piercings were pulled and pushed with his growth. Blaine's tongue fell out from between his lips as he was forced to take big, long, lung fulls of air to cool his rapidly heating body.

Half of his knot pushed into Trent but it was not enough. Something was holding back his body, keeping it from ejaculating even as he could feel his cum bubbling up from his balls and battering the walls of his resistances. A sensation like a rubber band being tightened within his thighs radiated heat up and down his legs. His thrusts grew more and more powerful as more strength was granted to his legs. Calves tightened, twin mounds of muscle pressing up against his shins which tapered down towards his ankles. Toes stretched, pulling his feet an extra shoe size larger between each thrust to avoid slipping.

"Ah fuck!" Blaine growled, fangs bared.

There was no stopping the tide anymore. His body had reached its limits and there was no strength left to hold back. His balls jostled, bumping up against his cock and, like a plug had been removed from a full bathtub, all the cum that had been stored there came flooding out in a sudden gush. Blaine let out a loud, long, gravelly groan as his searing cum came blasted out of his cock, the pressure of the blast stretching the walls of his dick up an extra two inches. He slammed his member one last time against Trent's ass but could only get half of his knot in before all the bubbling heat in his body was drained from every limb, coursing through his veins and then pooling into his cock.

Before he knew what was happening, his balls took all that heat, rapidly converted it into cum and sent it rocketing out of his dick in a second, much more powerful burst. His limbs exhausted, everything about Blaine except for his cock went limp; there was only the pleasure of release. He tilted his head back, falling into a cloud of bliss. But he didn't fall or hit his head on the tub. Instead, a long, muscular tail wrapped around him, holding him up and pinning him against the big, cushiony ass that he deposited all his seed into. Blaine, arms limp by his side, convulsed over and over again as he came over and over again. Not a single drop of cum fell into the water. Everything went right into Trent.

A soft choking noise escaped his lips by the time of his seventh shot. One last, empty burst filtered out of his dick before he gently patted Trent's ass, letting the orca know that he was spent. Slowly, Trent straightened, making Blaine moan from the shift. With all the gentleness of a lover, Trent slipped off Blaine's dick. The fox winced as the cold air touched his wet member. Trent's strong arms wrapped around him and he was lowered gently back into the tub. They both settled in again and the water splashed out a little as, once again, the tub was overfilled.

Blaine took a whole minute to register what had just happened.

"Holy shit..." he gasped. "If sex with guys was that good, I would've started fucking dudes a lot sooner."

"Not just any guy." Trent smirked at him while jabbing a thumb between those two, hair pecs. "Just those integrated into the Perfect Pair Program. Our symbionts make sure that we're always at our peak physical condition. That includes the tightness of our asses. We're always perpetually fresh to get fucked."

"Damn..." Trent shook his head absently and as he did so, managed to get a glimpse of his shoulders and arms. They were bigger. Much more defined. Definitely meatier. "Whoa... Did I... Did I just... grow?" He lifted those very same arms and flexed them. "Dude... I swear I'm bigger!"

Trent reached forward, running his big hands over Blaine's chest, particularly the valley between his pectorals. "Yeah. You definitely are. Looks like you're turning into a different kind of Breaker."

That piqued his interest. "There are different kinds? So I won't get to rock a dad-bod like you?"

"Don't think so." Trent patted his belly. There was no rippling of fat. The solid, rounded mound resisted his slap like it was made of steel. "We come in different shapes and sizes. Ulric and Gustav look like supermodels. You know, the kind that you see in magazines on the beach but rarely on the beach itself. But us...?" The orca laughed. "Well, you can imagine we're the dads of the beach."

"Not that I mind," Blaine said without thinking. He reached for Trent's belly, running his paws over it in circles. "I think there's just more of you to love." That made Trent blush and Blaine, after a second of realising what he had just said, did the same and turned away. "Uh... Sorry. I think it's the hormones or symbiont or some shit..."

"Maybe." Trent coughed and got up, the water-level rapidly dropping as he did so. In an instant, the familiar greenish goo came shooting out of his ass, wrapping around his legs and crotch in a single, smooth motion. Within moments, that goo solidified into those Trace's external appearance of board shorts. "You want to check out the Department mall?"

Is he asking me out on a date?

Would he even refuse if it was?

"You guys open this late?" Blaine asked, gesturing at the rapidly setting sun.

"Of course. We turned the old warehouse district into a sort of boardwalk. It's open pretty late. Come on. We'll show you."

Admittedly, he was curious to see what other changes the Department of SPERM had done to Sohomo. So he agreed. After drying off and fishing out some clothes from his car, he jumped into Trent's truck; the huge orca would not fit into his small, compact sports car. He found, much to his pride, that the shirts that would have fit snugly around his frame were now quite tight around the chest. The loose khakis now hugged his thighs rather tightly to the point of almost suffocating his junk. The greatest annoyance was that he now didn't have any shoes that could fit him. That didn't matter much since this was Sohomo and most people went around barefoot or barepaw anyway because it was a beach town.

If the Department mall was worth it's salt, it would have somewhere to sell shoes.

Thirty minutes later, they arrived at the what had used to be the warehouse district for Sohomo. Back in the day, Blaine used to hang out here with his friends and even Boris on occasion. There was something... alluring about the mystery and privacy granted by the old, abandoned buildings. But those days were gone.

"Well fuck me..." he breathed as he stepped onto the new, clean, white stone of the boardwalk.

It was like a miniature city had sprung up where the warehouses used to be. Brilliant, bright storefronts and glistening shops using a mix of modern and more conservative designs illuminated the entire walkway from one end to the other. It cast a brilliant light across onto the ocean. The boardwalk was naturally full of people, all men, and from what he could see, they were either fully integrated or on their way like him. Somehow, he could tell who was only partially converted from the mere fact that most of their clothing didn't fit well. Something caught his gaze, however.

"Hey, whazzat?" he asked, pointing off to the other end of the boardwalk. Unlike the rest of the buildings, there was a big, bulky structure that seemed rather out of place. There were what appeared to be rows upon rows of warehouses of some shape floating out in the ocean.

"Can't really tell you," admitted Trent. "Not until you're further along. But basically remember how I said the Department's goal is to curb overpopulation and make sure Sohomo has a strong economy all year around? That's for the second part."

"Makes sense, I guess. Looks unfinished."

"It's gonna be slow. We're still a long way away from when Sohomo is fully up and running. Until then..." Trent placed a hand against the small of his back and pushed him towards one of the bigger structures on the boardwalk. "Welcome to the Department mall!"

In front of him was an enormous, glass entrance to what could only be considered a large, indoor mall. On first glance, he could see that there were a myriad of shops and stores inside with hundreds if not at least a thousand people there. When he looked a little closer, however, it was clearly evident that a large number of people in the mall were having sex. The guy behind the front information desk was clearly getting a blow job just out of sight. There was a couple of guys giving one another a handjob right there out in the open and judging by the rustling in the bushes on one of the plant features, someone was fucking beneath the big palm tree.

"Holy shit..." he laughed. "You guys really do just drop your pants and fuck anywhere, don't you?"

"Are you complaining?"

"I'm honestly jealous. I wish I could do just that. Do whatever I want without having to care about how it'd look on my asshole of a dad and what my tight-ass brother would think."

A glance over at Trent and he caught that knowing smirk the orca was giving him.

"You know that if you join up, you'll get that kind of freedom."

Blaine sighed longingly. His cock was already stirring in his pants. "Yeah." He ran a paw through his blonde hair, trying to calm himself down. While it would be fun to take the next stage immediately, he wanted time to digest all this information first.

Distraction. I need a distraction.

"Hey, I've been wondering..." Glancing left and right, he frowned before turning back to Trent. "I'm assuming not everyone is here right now, right?"

"Right. There's still some people that need to be integrated and, of course, there are those that would prefer to spend the night in the privacy of their own home."

Damn... It's almost like Sohomo is becoming a nudist beach.

Ignoring that thought for the moment, Blaine said, "Sohomo never had this many people before Spring Break actually hit. Where'd all these guys come from?"

Trent let out a soft 'Ah' of understanding. "We're actually working with two neighbouring towns. Have you wondered what happens to all the women and to all the people who don't want to join but prefer to keep their memories?"

Blaine's brow creased as he stepped into the air conditioned mall. Part of him was relieved that there wasn't a suddenly blast of musk or pheromones in the air. He wasn't sure that he could keep it in his pants, so to speak if that happened.

"First of all, you dinna mention anythin about memories being messed with. But talk ta me 'bout the women. What's happenin' to them?"

Trent explained the Department and its female counterpart, the Office of Virtuous Unity and Maintenance was working in three cities. The Department worked in Sohomo and shipped the women to the town of Les Bien and vice versa. Similarly, both organisations worked in Aldermark to uplift it but without changing the people to be fused with the P3 Symbiont.

"The Department and Office are more open of their intentions in Aldermark than here," Trent said as they sat down at the food court. The smell of different cuisines invaded Blaine's nostrils and the young fox began salivating. Despite being a seaside town and Spring Break location, Sohomo was never very diverse. Most of the time, food was restricted to anything that was fried. As he looked around, he noticed sushi stores, ramen bars, Indian cuisines, New Orleans-inspired restaurants and British-style pubs.

"Whatdya mean?" he asked.

In Aldermark, both the Department and Office had open recruitment centres, seminars and visits from professionals within either organisation to talk about the program. Of course there were still parts of the program that were kept secret until the person was fully integrated but as they went through the steps, they were taken on tours to either of the two monogendered cities, given more information and eventually relocated. At the same time, those people from either Sohomo or Les Bien who refused to join the program were relocated to Aldermark or elsewhere should they want. The only caveat was that they needed their memories wiped to avoid exposing the Perfect Pair Program to the world.

"The Program is still pretty young and pretty controversial," Trent surmised. "Congress may have approved it but you can imagine what would happen if this sort of thing got out to the general public. Hell, even the world."

"What's so bad about it?" asked Blaine. "Everyone is getting to choose to join, right?"

"Yeah but there are organisations and countries out there that would hate us just on the basis of us being gay. Then there'd be those that'd say we're breeding supersoldiers because of how much stronger, faster and smarter we are. Not to mention we live longer and are basically resistant to most diseases."

Blaine did a double take. "What's that last part?"

Trent pointed down at his crotch. "Remember, we're bonded to another living being here. While we are up here doing all the day-to-day stuff and more complicated social interactions, our symbiont is down there regulating us down to the cellular level. Think of the P3 Symbiont like another brain devoted entirely to making sure we are fit, healthy and strong. We could get over the flu in an hour or so. We'll never get cancer because the symbiont ensures that cells always replicate and divide correctly. We're still going to age and even the Symbiont has limits but on the grand scheme of things, we're better than any ordinary fur."

Wow... So basically immortality in exchange for government service and becoming gay...

... sounds like a deal with the devil.

But when the devil was so charming and handsome, it was difficult to refuse.

Blaine turned his gaze away, blushing lightly under his coppery fur. "I might be lookin' into this a little too much but would this really stop overpopulation?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that overpopulation is caused because people keep poppin' out babies faster than they can die, right? If the P3 Symbiont makes ya live longer, jus' because you ain't fuckin' n' impregnatin' some chick, doesn't mean everyone else is gonna stop. Hell, you'd be takin' up resources that could be given ta the next generation." He grumbled at himself and ruffled his own hair. "Ah ferget it... I ain't good with this shit."

Trent laughed and reached forward, gently gripping his wrist and lowering his paw. "No. You're right. That is a concern for the Department which is why they aren't just turning us into long-lived supermen and women. They're making sure we have jobs that can keep producing and being useful members of society. We'll basically be capable of working up until the day we die. Yeah we can retire but we'll basically be hardwired to do something productive."

The orca jerked his rounded chin towards the exit. "The Jocks up in Utah basically have to constantly keep active. They can't really sit still except when they fuck and fuck really good. It's hard for them to sleep because of it. It's almost a compulsive need." Then he placed a big, coppery-black hand against his chest. "For us Breakers, we overheat. We need to constantly find some way to keep cool or cum because our bodies naturally produce a lot of heat."

Blaine tilted his head to one side and then the other. "Huh... I guess that means you'd have to do somethin' to keep yourself cool... But even if you reach retirement, how are ya supposed ta be a functionin' member o' society if all ya do is produce heat?" Before Trent could answer verbally, Blaine saw the knowing smirk and held up his paw. "I know, I know. Can't tell me until I get deeper. Sure."

He slapped his paws on the table. "Fuck... I'm thirsty."

Trent, still dressed in only his board shorts, stood up from the table. "Another thing about us Breakers. We need to drink a _lot_of water. We produce gallons of cum and because we keep overheating, hydration is key. I'll get you something."

The orca turned and left. Blaine watched the hunky man go, unable to keep his eyes off that ass. He pulled away from his staring contest with those bouncing glutes a full minute later when Trent reached a vending machine.

"Fuck me..." he mumbled to himself. "It is hard..."

He wasn't just talking about his ordeal struggling with his sexuality or identity either. Ever since Trent had touched him, he had gotten rock hard and was leaking into his khakis. Given their tan colouration and the fabric, it was very evident that he was aroused. Willing himself to go soft didn't work because everywhere he looked, there were subtle signs of people having sex.

Two tables away, a calico was giving a doberman a footjob under the table while they were both trying to pretend nothing was happening by texting rapidly; probably texting one another their expressions. Over by a store front that exclusively served soups, a tall giraffe was standing suspiciously close to a shark that was only a head smaller with the former gyrating his hips constantly. Then there were those guys in the bushes still at it...

... then he realised he shouldn't be embarrassed.

None of the others were.

Why should he?

Trent came back a moment later with a bottle of water. "Don't worry. It's not tainted or anything."

"Thanks," Blaine said, popping open the cap of the bottle. "Hey, if people dun really care if ya have sex out in the open or not, why is everyone trying to pretend they're not or at least tryin' not ta get caught?"

The orca shrugged. "It's kinda a game. Guess there's something exciting about fucking out in the open but making it not so obvious. Of course some people put more effort to it than others. Trust me, if you go to the main Department facility, the head office so to speak, there's no trying. You want to fuck, just ask and someone will go down on you."

"I'm gonna admit," Blaine laughed. "That sounds amazin'. Not carin' what others say. Not livin' by someone else's expectations or in another's shadow..." His tone turned serious as he regarded Trent. "But seriously speakin'... is that what you want? Ya said ya wanted to be my boyfriend."

"Not boyfriend. Our mate." Trent crossed his arms and leaned back into the metal chair which groaned beneath his size and strength. "And honestly, we don't expect that what we want and what you want will automatically line up."

"What?" he asked, confused. "How can you expect to live the rest of your long life with someone if you're not compatible?"

"Because it doesn't work that way. There's no such thing as two pieces of the puzzle automatically fitting with one another in this crazy world of ours. If it does, that's just damn lucky. You make the relationship work. The both of you. You _both_change over time and grow into one another. If you end up looking back at your relationship ten years into the future and realise the guy you're with isn't the same guy you married and then breaking up because of it, you're a fucking dumb asshole. No one stays the same for ten years. Everyone changes."

Everyone changes...

"Damnit," Blaine laughed, turning his gaze away and blushing lightly. "There you go again, being the wise dad."

Trent scratched his scruffy beard. "We've got to earn this somehow, right?"

They shared a laugh and, not the first time that evening his heart skipped a beat.

Is this...? Really...?

"Should we get out of here?" he asked, slinging an arm over his chair. "I think I've seen all I can see without going to the next step."

The orca waggled an eyebrow at him. "There's one more thing we'd like to show you before then."

Blaine paused for a second, once again digesting everything he had been told. "Oh yeah? What?"

Trent rose and gently took his paw. "Come on."

Though Blaine was used to being the one leading the group, there was something... romantic about being dragged by the paw by a big, buff, hairy orca through the crowded mall. Yes there were subtle signs of sex here and there and he was pretty sure that the mall cops were just playing the role because it was their fantasy to 'arrest' someone only to 'punish' them in the back rooms, but this was still very nice. The mall was also fairly large, bigger than anything in Sohomo by far. Spanning five expansive levels and built like a triangle, there were stores all around the edges of the mall while the inner face of the triangle was mostly for courtyards, food courts and smaller pop-up stores.

He was amazed at the culture and diversity that flashed before him. Stores and products he had never expected he'd see in this one-note town flashed before his eyes. There was a disproportionate amount of swim, ocean or aquatic-based stores, though never one of the same kind. An aquarium store complete with exotic fish stood right next to a snorkeling and diver's store. A surf store was across the way from a large beachwear outlet. No designer brands or truly recognisable names were placed anywhere. No doubt those corporations wouldn't want anything to do with what the Department was doing or just plain didn't know. Merit had to be given to the fact that the Department was making Sohomo independent with its own identity and small businesses.

Maybe it's going back to the idea of small businesses making the backbone of the economy.

"I've gotta ask," he began, pulling ahead so he wasn't trailing behind Trent. "I know a lotta guys came from either Les Bien or Aldermark seems like if they could all set up shop like they did here, they would've already. Why didn't they do that before?"

Trent shrugged his big, bowling ball shoulders. "Could be a lot of things. Finances. Opportunity or they were never really taught." He pointed towards a store that looked like a jewellery store focused on pearls. "Gary over there was always taught to be the macho type of guy but he loved pearls - it's his birthstone. He started a pearl farm. It'll take years before he starts making his own pearls so right now, he's getting pearls from elsewhere and putting them into jewellery he makes himself. He sells a lot of that on the internet and through the Department."

"Damn... you guys must have plans for this sort of stuff for years."

"If all goes to plan, it'll be for generations. We are trying to make sure that we don't all die from overconsumption of resources and overpopulation, after all."

"And the Department taught Gary how to make the jewellery?"

"Yep! It was his dream to do something with pearls and the Department gave him the resources to do so!"

Wow... If you've got the motivation, you get the freedom to do what you want.

It was only then did he realise that he was still holding onto Trent's hand. He was just about to let go when they stopped. His jaw dropped at the sign before him.

"Ya've gotta be fuckin' shittin' me."

"Nope," Trent laughed, waving a hand at the board. "Like we said, Breakers have got to keep cool all the time. What better way to do that than public baths."

Blaine recoiled. "But that's just... just weird."

"Come on, is it really?" Trent began dragging him into the facility which looked like it took up all five levels with an entrance per level and had a a sort of Greco-Roman style facade. "You must be feeling it by now. Don't you need to cool off?"

He was. Even the drink he had downed hadn't been enough to cool him off. His fingers intertwined with Trent's didn't help. Heat radiating from the orca seemed to trigger his own cells into becoming excited and producing their own fire. It didn't help that his cock was _still_very much erect and leaking, creating another source of that fiery, bubbling sensation in his veins.

"I do... But..." He lifted his gaze at the enormous bathhouse structure. "This just feels weird..."

"Don't you jump into hot tubs with your friends all the time? This isn't that different. Just someone else is heating the water for you and waiting on you hand and foot." Trent tugged him closer towards the door, turning slightly and giving him a smile. "You'll like it. Trust us."

Maybe it was just how those Grecian columns framed his face, the gentle light of sunset streaming in from the glass rooftop of the structure or the gentle salty musk that the orca emitted but Blaine's heart skipped a beat again and all he could muster was a soft, 'Okay'.

The interior of the facility was built much like a spa. Everything was clean, brightly lit and there was a strong, floral scent in the air. Naturally, there were two muscular guys at the counter dressed in tight-fitting shirts. They had compact, lean builds without a shred of body fat. Apart from the fact that they were seven feet tall, Blaine guessed he was about their size. That begged the question of exactly what he was turning into if they were already fully integrated and he wasn't as rotund as Trent.

"Welcome!" one of the guys said, heading over with a tablet. "Would you want a public bath or private?"

"Let's go for private just for the two of us," Trent responded, giving Blaine a light nudge. "An introduction package, please."

"Our please. Please, follow us."

The man gestured and led them towards a locker room where they were instructed to take off their clothing and put on the offered bathrobes. Apparently, in here there was a sort of dress code. Trent retracted his symbiont into himself, letting his mammoth member hang out nice and loose before hiding it behind the long, fluffy, seafoam green bathrobes. Blaine tried not to stare as he peeled off his tight clothing and donned a matching robe himself.

When they were dressed, their host led them down a long hallway. Only the sound of calm, soothing music could be heard. Something told him the walls were soundproof to offer some modicum of privacy. As tempted as he was to peek through one of the many doors, he was focused on the butterflies that were dancing around in his stomach and the heat that was quickly permeating his system.

They entered one of the rooms which was covered from floor to ceiling in dark brown wood. A floor-level bath surrounded by rocks sat before them. The water was still and clear.

"Please, enjoy your stay," their host said before leaving.

"We don't have a time limit or anything?" Blaine asked.

"Not for the intro package," Trent replied, shrugging off his bathrobe. "For other packages, we got other treatments like massages, oils and a happy ending if you want but since you're not fully in the program just yet, we get all the time in the world. We know that people adjust at different rates so we've got to be patient."

The orca slipped into the pool in one, smooth movement that was contrary to his hairy bulk. Blaine gulped and took off his own robe. As he moved to enter the pool, Trent held up a hand.

"Hold up, dude. Gotta wait for the water to warm up."

He frowned. "The water isn't warm already?" he asked, dipping a toe into the pool.

Holy shit! That's freezing!

"We told you, we Breakers gotta cool down," answered the orca. "Our bodies start to overheat and sometimes, the best way to cool down is to get an ice-cold bath. Eventually, our body heat will seep into the waters and heat it up."

"That's really fucked up. And inconvenient."

"Part of being this hot." Trent flexed both his arms, making Blaine blushed. "Literally. Just give me a minute and the water should be good."

After about two minutes, Trent invited him into the water. It was still fairly cool as opposed to the hot tub but it was bearable. Submerging himself into the waters was simply heavenly. The roiling heat that had consumed his body ebbed, all that heat and energy seeping out of his flesh and fur and melding with the water. Even his raging hard on began to ebb as he sank down into his shoulders beneath the water.

"Fuck..." he moaned softly. "I needed this..."

"We all end up needing something like it," said Trent. "It's part of our lives now. Plus all this energy doesn't go to waste."

He cocked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Pointing at the water, Trent said, "We all produce a _lot_of heat and all of the tubs that we Breakers use here in Sohomo are linked up to some form of thermoelectric generator. When we soak in these tubs to cool off, that heat goes through the generator and helps power Sohomo."

That's what he meant when he said Sohomo would be turned into a sort of powerhouse.

It's going to become a literal house of electrical power.

"That can't produce a lot of power."

"It doesn't," replied Trent with a shrug, "but it helps offset some of our energy needs. Of course, there are _other_plans that are in place that'll keep the money flowing into Sohomo."

Those warehouse-like structures out in the ocean. Were they... tidal generators? Was the Department planning on turning this once little-known Spring Break location into a major energy production city? The green energy sources wouldn't produce any waste that would destroy the idyllic beaches and they were far enough away that they wouldn't interfere with the daily lives of the more commercial side of town.

The more he thought about it, the more he got excited about the idea. He envisioned some fantastic, tall, ecologically friendly towers with an unobstructed view of the beach. Everything was powered by environmentally-friendly generators coupled with the heat produced by the overly sexual Breakers. It would be a self-sufficient town that could even sell its energy off to other cities or states earning it wealth. All the while, it's population would be well under control as no one would be having any kids and only people who wanted to be part of the program would be admitted into the town. The fact that Sohomo was also fairly far away from most other cities ensured that it would have some degree of privacy.

Then there would be the tourism.

Imagine if they made like an artificial reef or something. People would flock to see that shit.

Not to mention all the hot guys that would be meandering throughout the town.

"Holy shit..." he gasped softly while his cheeks were flushed with arousal. "Sohomo is going to be amazin'..."

"That's the plan!" Trent laughed with a bright grin on his face. That smile faded slightly as he locked gazes with Blaine. "So... What do you think? Do you want to be part of that? Do you want to join the Department?"

Blaine paused for about half a second. A thousand thoughts flew through his mind. Most of them was out of concern for his brother. His father could go to hell for all he cared but Boris would no doubt come looking for him. If the town became the powerhouse that Trent promised, maybe Boris would even join up. The goody-goody fox was always the moral compass to his father's more unscrupulous business practises.

"Yeah," he answered firmly, "I definitely do."

"Good," Trent responded with a cheeky grin. "Because we've been leaking like a fucking faucet into the water all this time."

He glanced down at the once-clear waters which had now turned a little murky. Part of him should have been disgusted that he was now swimming in scented water mixed with Trent's precum but he was strangely excited instead. Laughing softly, he splashed Trent for not waiting until he had given the confirmation and paddled up to the orca, cock completely stiff and shamelessly rubbing it against Trent's flank.

"Give me that sweet ass," he growled, reaching behind Trent and squeezing the sizable rump.

"Yessir," answered the orca with a soft growl of his own.

The water shifted as the massive orca paddled towards the edge of the pool. His huge tail rose from the waters, raining down a few droplets onto Blaine. The fully aroused fox swam forward, gripping the long, muscular appendage with both arms. His cock gravitated towards that tight orca ass, memories of the heated session that had occurred just over an hour ago propelling his hips forward. Just as Trent promised, the orca was as tight as ever, forcing both of them to grunt in exertion.

That boiling sensation once more flooded his veins, his balls churning as they marinated in the soup that was infused with Trent's precum. His thrusts were rewarded with a bloated sensation pulsating from his testicles; each thrust intensified the feeling until he could feel those very same orbs pressing up against the walls of his sac, begging to be released. The heat radiated out from his scrotum, seeping into his prostate. The boiling sensations pumped into the sensitive organ, making him gasp and kicking its production into overdrive. Within moments, he was leaking his own juices into the water around him.

Wet slapping noises echoed in the private bath as he drove inch after pleasurable inch into Trent's ass. The fire within him intensified with each fevered pump and as it grew, so did the length of his cock. Blaine pushed another inch of cock into Trent but at the same time, the veins along the base of his dick pulsed and the deep red member pushed a little further away from him, adding an extra inch length-wise and about a quarter inch in width. He growled in frustration, remembering how he had found some difficulty pushing his knot into Trent the first time.

His thrusts grew more desperate. Some primal instinct demanded that he bury his dick - knot and all - right into Trent and cum. Perhaps in response to that demand, his roiling blood flooded into his thighs. This was accompanied by a loud gurgling noise as his thighs throbbed and surged, hard cuts appearing between each muscle group along his quads. His hamstrings tightened, all fat being voraciously consumed by the growing muscles. The back of his thighs looked like there were taut suspension bridges holding up his knees. Each calf muscle ballooned out to the sides only to be stretched as his shins lengthened, giving him a little extra height. His toes crackled and popped, widening his stance while they spread out to sizes that no normal fur would ever be able to attain.

With the sudden increase in mass for his legs, Blaine was able to add much more force into each of his thrusts. He hilted right into to orca beneath him until his knot started to inflate. A grunt left his thickening throat as that familiar obstacle began barring his entrance into his lover. Holding onto the long, muscular tail for leverage, he rammed his cock into the orca with all his might. Trent groaned as his ass stretched to accommodate just a fraction of the bulbous base.

Blaine whimpered in frustration. That noise quickly turned into a moan of pleasure as the deep, chiselled cuts of his abdominals began sucking away all traces of fat from his stomach. At the same time, his abs swelled, rising like eight perfectly shaped buns that were being baked in the warm embrace of an oven. A perfectly defined Apollo's Belt framed his lower abdominals while his lats flared out at his sides, leading the eye to the upper half. His nipples tingled with pleasure once more with the rapid expansion of his pectorals. Not only were his nipples now pointing directly down but they were forced to point in opposite directions due to the sheer size of each pectoral. Coal could get lost in the crevasse of his pecs and come out as diamonds. The thick white, furry crest that he had always found annoying was stretched thin by the sheer expanse of the mounds, his white fur almost becoming like a skin-tight vest that barely clung to his torso.

Muscles bulged all over his arms. Thick, scalloped shoulders pushed up against his red flesh, growing so big that his traps had to inflate to accommodate just to become proportionate, almost swallowing his neck up entirely. The heat travelled down his back like a wave; a wave of growth and muscles. He flexed his shoulders, the valley of his spine deepening as his back took on a vague semblance to a walnut with all of it's hard, symmetrical ridges and mounds. His biceps swelled, glistening with wet fur and sweat and decorated by a lattice of veins that travelled like a road map all the way down his forearms and into the back of his paws. He released his grip on the tail for the briefest of moments, allowing his fingers to lengthen and his palms to broaden before he grasped Trent's tail one more time with all his might.

He let out a ferocious roar and slammed his hips forward with all his might. The push managed to get his knot about three-quarters of the way in before an opposing force sent his molten seed rocketing up his dick and flooding out of his newly lengthened 14-inch dick. Something told him that he just could not let a single drop of his precious cum go to waste so he grit his fangs, held onto the offered tail with all his might and pushed forward even as all the force of his ejaculating cock tried to eject him out of Trent's ass.

The first blast came as a surprise but it was the second and the subsequent ones that were the most problematic. Each blast became more and more powerful than the last. His overactive prostate and jostling testicles fired compelling his body to fire stronger and stronger loads like the traitors were testing him. But Blaine doggedly held on; fighting against the storm of overwhelming pleasure until his body gave out.

The last blast of cum shot from his dick and he staggered back. A soft moan left his muzzle as he slipped out of Trent with a loud pop. Drawing on the same strength that he had used to fight against the torrent of ecstasy, he managed to keep standing, holding a paw against his head to keep the room from spinning. The sheer size of his new paw stunned him, shaking him back towards the spectrum of consciousness to stare at the massive appendage which could crush a melon with frightening ease.

"Oh shit... is... Izzat my paw?" He gasped and hovered his fingers over his throat. "Izzat my voice?"

His light tenor had dropped down to a baritone, one that reverberated through his chest and rumbled the otherwise still water.

"Is sure is," chuckled Trent, straightening in the water. The orca turned to face him, striding over. They were almost the same height with Blaine's nose hovering just around Trent's collarbone. "Wow. Looks like you're going to be one of those beach bodybuilders. That's _very_hot."

Grinning with pride, Blaine lifted his arm, flexing the muscles there. The thick, vascular bulge was just as big as Trent's and far leaner. Just to compare, Trent did the same.

"Fuck... If this is how I'm now, imagine what I'm gonna be when I'm fully integrated!" Blaine's tail was wagging happily in the water. "Fuck! We gotta fuck again. Let me suck your dick!"

Trent, showing infinite patience, held up his paw. "You know the rules. It's time for your break."

"Goddamit..." Blaine's shoulders slouched. "Guess ya can't bend the rules fer me this one time, eh?"

Trent pulled him into a hug, resting his chin atop Blaine's head. Despite being far leaner and far more muscular than Trent, the orca was bigger in terms of sheer mass. One could argue that Trent had the raw strength to outstrip him, perhaps as a power lifter while he was more of a bodybuilder, more focused on sculpting his body and looking good than actual strength. "As much as we want this badly, we've got to be patient. We don't want you to look back on this moment years from now and regret it."

Part of him wanted to immediately declare that he wouldn't regret his decision, that he wanted this so badly_._

Then the rational part of him countered.

This is a life-changing decision. There's no going back after this. Can't be thinking with my cock on this one.

With a sigh, he extracted himself from Trent's arms and offered the orca a sad smile. "Yer right. It'd be easier if this thing wasn't so fucking hard." He pointed at his monster cock. It was fairly girthy and certainly longer than any normal fur's but it wasn't as thick as Trent's. Much like their sizes now, Trent was just barely longer but much wider.

"We warned you. It does get harder every time we ask you to join."

Blaine rolled his eyes and nudged the hairy orca. "Dad jokes? Really?"

"We've got the look, right?"

That, he had to agree with and that wasn't a bad thing. "Come on. Let's actually get cleaned up a little."

Trent called over their bath host who migrated them to a much cleaner bath. They passed another couple who were completely in the nude with one of the pair sporting a rather pronounced erection. It was then that Blaine realised that he had forgotten his bathrobes in the previous room... and decided he didn't care. He shamelessly eyed the two, licked his lips and asked Trent if they could invite the duo over for some fun when he was fully changed. The orca beamed at the suggestion and congratulated him for accepting the new norm.

After they fully got cleaned, the sun had well and truly set. Trent left the baths first and came back with some modest clothing for Blaine consisting of a rather tight razorback yellow tank top and some shorts. Both garments seemed a few sizes too small for him which he guessed was the intention. With his nipples pointing outward and downward, there was no hiding the permanently engorged nubs pierced by the seemingly minuscule dumbbell piercings.

I wonder if I should get these changed out with something bigger.

The shorts could barely make it a quarter of the way down his thighs and with his flaccid dick now hanging at ten inches, there was little room to move. Every stride he took caused his cock to slid poke out one of the legs. Again, he found that he didn't care. As he strode back through the mall, paw intertwined with Trent's, he could understand the thrill and rush that came with flashing having his junk feature so prominently and yet not _quite_as exposed. He never thought he would be aroused by exhibitionism and yet here he was, huffing in pride with every stare he caught from a mall-goer or when he caught someone fucking subtly.

The cool night air greeted them as they stepped back onto the boardwalk which was just as busy as when they first arrived. There were a few shapes down by the beach that he was fairly sure were people enjoying a lovemaking session under the stars. They headed back to Trent's truck and the orca drove him back to the large, lonely mansion.

"Meet us at dawn tomorrow at the pier," Trent told him. "We'll pick things up then."

"Looking forward to it, stud," Blaine replied.

Dawn was several hours away and that left him with a lot of time on his hands. Sleep seemed an impossibility as his heart fluttered with longing and excitement as Trent drove off. Never before had he realised just how big and empty his mansion was.

Not going to be alone for much longer, he thought excitedly.

Blaine hurried up to his bedroom located on the second floor and switched on the lights. There was a full body mirror there and he excitedly began examining his new physique in the mirror. 'Bodybuilder' was one term he would use to describe his features and another would probably be 'Muscle God'. He never saw very many fox bodybuilders and he wondered if that was a profession he should start taking up.

No... the Department would probably want to keep it on the down low for now. Maybe later.

His mind went back to the idea Trent has proposed - a bartender or a DJ. When he had tried to kick off his rap career, it had become very evident that he had no sense of rhythm or was possibly tone deaf. So DJ was probably not the best of ideas.

But a bartender...

The idea of standing behind a bar, dancing to the music around him as he served up some drinks infused with his cum, watching people transform and then fucking them in the back excited him. His swollen muscles heated up, his cock stirring in his shorts. Imagining himself in that fantastical setting, he wiped his brow with the hem of his tank top, revealing the sculpted abs. In his mind's eye, there was a crowd of people there who instantly became much thirstier when they saw the body that could cut diamonds. Someone shouted for him to take off his shirt and he gladly obliged, tossing it into the crowd.

Then he was dancing, pretending to serve drinks as he did so.

Maybe I could be a part time stripper too...

The fantasy was abruptly interrupted by a loud ringing sound.

Just as his cock had gotten fully hard.

With a groan, he headed over to the phone parked right beside his large, king-sized bed.

I'm gonna have to replace this bed. It's not gonna fit both Trent and I.

He snatched the phone from the receiver and barked out a hot blooded, "Yeah? What?"

"Blaine! Thank god!"

His twin brother's voice brought him back from his rage and fantasy. "Boris. Whyda sound like you've run a fuckin' marathon? What happened?"

"I've been trying to call you for hours! Why didn't you pick up your phone?"

His phone...?

Thinking back, he last remembered having placed his phone on the floor by the hot tub with the rest of his clothes that would no longer fit him. It hadn't been on his person for hours. A quick glance at the digital display on the phone revealed that there were over ten messages waiting. Boris must have been calling him and the house's landline for a while.

"I wuz busy with friends," he answered. "Nothin' ta worry 'bout." He lay back into his bed, one thick arm behind his head. His cock spurted in excitement when he realised that he couldn't fully move his arm behind him anymore.

Loss of flexibility due to engorged muscles? Hot.

"Your friends are still finishing their finals and have been studying non-stop," came the exasperated sigh.

"I've got friends here in Sohomo."

"What? Like who?"

"You remember Trent Russo? Him."

"You mean the poor orca that you bully into cleaning your pools and then secretly make fun of as some 'southern yokel'?"

Looking back at the person he had been, Blaine was happy Trent had changed him. That person was disgusting; a coward and a bully who couldn't face his own faults and did everything in his power to prolong a fantasy that was doomed to fade and even willing to drag others down with him.

I've different now, he thought firmly.

"Yeah. Trent and I really hit it off. I just... I just never really saw him like that until now."

There was a pause on the other end. "Wait... What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I've in love with Trent Russo and that he and I are boyfriends."

Boris groaned on the other side of the phone. "Blaine, if you're just trying to get back at me and dad, this is being a little extra. You're going to hurt a guy's heart by doing this."

"For once, Boris, this isn't about you or dad," Blaine said firmly. "You can tell dad that he can disown me, sue me or charge me for every penny I ever cost him. I don't care. I'm moving to Sohomo permanently. There's nothing you can do to convince me otherwise."

"What!? Are you crazy? Why? Just for some guy?"

"He just isn't some guy, Boris," he answered calmly. "Trent really opened my eyes. He helped realise that I've been living in your and dad's shadow not because you cast big ones but because I've been scared to step out and get burned. Well, no more. I'm my own man now. I hope, one day, you can be too."

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean -?"

He hung up and immediately disconnected the phone from the socket, cutting off all contact from his brother. Perhaps Boris would make the drive down here but he would wait a couple of days. His brother was the patient sort and would likely hope that Blaine would 'come to his senses' after a few days of being without their dad's funds.

Boy is he in for a surprise.

Blaine, content with his decisions, leaned back into the bed and just stared at the ceiling with a content look on his face. His eyes shut and he was once again in that bar, serving drinks, dancing to the music and with lights flashing all around him. He wiggled out of his shorts, letting his fully erect fourteen-inch monster slap against his abs and leak pre all over his chest. No one was wearing any pants in the bar. Everyone was just letting their members go hard, spray pre and cum everywhere while their hot pieces of meat slapped against one another or found an ass or muzzle to fuck. No one cared if you were naked, hard, soft, ripped, rotund, hairy or smooth. Everyone in the bar just loved being with one another.

And that's when he realised.

The Department was more than just an organisation or some social revolution.

... it's a family. A big, symbiotic family.

Everyone had the opportunity to become someone better and as they did so, they put some of their effort into bettering the town and the Department as a whole. No one was forcing them to go cool off and provide thermoelectric energy for the town. No one was coercing them to build tidal generators or use green alternative sources of power. They wanted to because it made them better people. Just as the P3 Symbionts had a symbiotic relationship with their hosts, so too did the hosts have a symbiotic relationship with the Department. The Department likewise had a similar tie with the Office.

It's all about symbiosis...

And through it all, Blaine realised that he had another symbiotic relationship as well...

... that with Trent 'Trace' Russo.

His fantasy was invaded by the big, hairy orca who came wrapped his huge, hairy arms around him from behind. That prickly stubble brushed against his cheeks and their lips collided. Trent's fat cock found its way into his ass almost as if it had a mind of its own, causing Blaine to moan and squirm. His mind exploded with pleasure as he opened himself to his lover, his mate and his progenitor.

Back in reality, Blaine thrust his hips into the air. His claws were dug into the sheets around him. Without any help from his paws whatsoever, his cock immediately began spraying thick ropes of cum. The stream was explosive, long and had him squirming as the scene in his mind played on repeat. Cum splattered all over his muzzle and the headboard of his bed. His eyes were glued shut as the fantasy continued over and over again, his dream come true.

Hours passed and Blaine continued to be wracked by orgasm after orgasm every minute or so without end. The impossible amount of seed he produced was soaked his sheets and leaked into the carpeted floor, flooding his room with the scent of his masculinity and musk. Halfway through the night, his fledgling symbiont realised that he was running out of energy and seed so it rapidly adapted. Tired testicles were suddenly injected with an enormous amount of hormones and testosterone, surging outward to become like big, hairy baseballs. His cock flared out, unleashing another blast of cum as it stretched up to a monstrous sixteen inches.

Over and over, his cock spewed more and more cum until the dawns light began streaming in from the windows. Realising what the time was, Blaine rolled off his bed, grimacing as his cum-covered frame dripped his warm seed all over the floor. His dick let out one last blast of seed before he waddled towards the door.

There was no time to get changed or shower.

Gotta meet Trent.

Still dripping with seed, he looked a little like some sort of gooey monster that had emerged from a swamp made entirely of semen. None of that mattered, however. In an almost hypnotic trance, he jumped into his car, staining the leather seats with his seed and filling the vehicle with his musk. It only took fifteen minutes to get to the marina. He didn't need guidance to know which ship to go to even though there were several fishing trawlers docked. Clearly the Department wanted to revitalise the fishing industry in Sohomo.

The ship was called the 'Big Whale' and was the same coppery-black colour as Trent's skin. He headed up the gangway and found the orca standing by the door into the depths of the ship dressed in nothing but his board shorts.

"We're glad you came," Trent said.

"I came," Blaine laughed softly, still slightly drunk from the afterglow. "A lot."

Trent turned, gesturing him to follow. "Come on down. We've got to show you something."

Excited and prepared to say 'yes' to the inevitable question, Blaine, fully nude and still stinking of sex, followed his mate down into the depths of the ship. What surprised him was that the ship was in no way cramped. Given the size of most of the Department members, it would have to be extra-large and for someone as wide as Trent, that was a necessity. Trent was able to stride down the clean, white halls with ease. The walls were polished and even decorated with pictures. The floors were like wooden floorboards. It almost reminded him of a luxury yacht than an actual working man's ship.

Trent led him to what could only be the captain's room and he gawked. It might as well have been a state room in a cruise liner. It was big, the floors were covered in lush carpet, there were velvety drapes over the broad windows and the furniture - albeit bolted down - were plush and looked extremely comfortable. What caught his attention was the large hot tub at the centre of the room filled with thick, viscous, white liquid.

"Is that...?" Blaine asked, moving towards the tub.

"Yes," Trent replied. "Our cum. It's part of the process. First is the heavily diluted exposure to our precum. Then direct contact with our precum... and finally..." Trent's big arms wrapped around his waist, his scruffy stubbly brushing up against Blaine's left cheek just like in his fantasy. "... you get direct contact with our cum." The hunky orca's breath wafted into his ear. "So there's really only one last thing to ask..."

"Yes," Blaine said immediately.

"You didn't let us ask it yet," came the chortling reply.

"Still yes."

Trent rolled his eyes. "Do you want to join the Department?"

As an answer, he turned towards the orca, pressing their lips together and pushing his tongue into the soft beak, dancing with that long flexible tongue. He broke the kiss and took the first step into the pool of orca cum. "Yes."

Without waiting, Blaine placed his foot into the hot pool. It was like he had stepped directly into molten manliness and his body was eager to swallow it up. A jolt of fiery electricity erupted from his foot, veins streaming up the length of the appendage and only barely stopping at his calves. He grunted, stretching his toes as far as they could. Every cell in his body drank up the substance like it was air, absorbing the nutrients it provided into themselves, causing rapid multiplication and growth. The sudden mass of his foot and calves compelled him to dunk the other foot in and he was not going to resist the primal urge.

Blaine stood in the pool of cum, slowly stepping down the submerged steps. Each step he took bathed his flesh in more of the nutrient slurry, giving rise to that same bubbling sensation that crept up from his calves, to his thighs. He had to adjust his stance because his thighs were just so big that they were permanently going to be rubbing against one another unless he did walked with a swagger. Hard, sculpted muscles pushed up against his coppery fur only broken by the plump, pulsating veins that looked like vines along thick tree trunks.

He took another step forward and his balls sank into the pool.

The moment his balls touched the goo, he let out a soft whimper, his cock spasming and adding some of his own imperfect semen into the mixture. His balls churned, drinking up the cum like the roots of a thirsty plant. Within seconds, they were blossoming into huge orange-sized orbs, sinking into the slurry and changing their production from slime built to carry genetic material to the nutrient slurry that Trent and the others bonded with the P3 Symbiont were designed to produce. None of them would ever be able to produce children, at least not while they were bonded. His testicles had been transformed into factories built exclusively for integration and maintenance of his own body.

Another step and his base of his cock dipped into the substance.

His knot immediately swelled up, becoming just as big as his two testicles combined. His member surged upwards, rising towards his chest and just passing his nipples when he pressed it directly against his chest. With a smirk, he grabbed the throbbing, deep red member, running his fingers along the protruding veins up and down its shaft. He tilted it slightly, brushing the hot tip against his pierced left nipple. A moan escaped his lips as the molten seed drooled over his sensitive nub. He couldn't help but do the same to the other nipple, instinctively flexing his pecs as the white goo dripped off his engorged, pierced tips.

One more step and his stomach convulsed. Hardened abdominals flexed and pushed past the limits of a normal fur. They hardened and swelled, looking like a pair of pillars supporting the roof that was his pectorals. His bellybutton all but disappeared within their valleys.

Blaine couldn't wait any longer.

Taking a deep breath, he dove into the pool, submerging himself entirely. His entire body tensed, expelling all the growth and potential that had been building deep inside him like he was experiencing a full-body orgasm. All the muscles along his back seized up, tightening into new sizes; traps, lats and deltoids nearly doubled in size, swallowing up his neck until he was left with the impression he had a permanent hunch because of just how meaty his back was. His chest ballooned out, obscuring his lower body with their sheer mass should he ever find the flexibility to look straight down. Arms that had once been the same size as Trent's inflated, becoming like basketballs attached to paws that could crush and bend metal with ease.

The fox rose once more from the pool. He threw his head back, flexed his enormous back and swung his arms to his sides, letting out a ferocious, triumphant roar. He turned hungrily towards Trent, grinning savagely as he huffed.

"Come here, handsome," he growled.

Trent immediately retracted Trace and before the orca could make it halfway to the pool, Blaine grabbed his arm and dragged him in. The hearty laugh from the husky whale was interrupted by Blaine ravaging his lips. There was no ceremony as the fox pushed his cock deep into the orca's waiting pucker. He lifted Trent's thick thighs up, letting those meaty calves rest on his beefy shoulders. It almost seemed like his sheer bulk was made exactly for this purpose. He pushed, penetrating the orca all the way up to his not. Trent let out a moan as all eighteen inches of meat throbbed inside of him, pulling away and instinctively turning his own cock towards the fox's mouth.

Blaine new exactly what he had to do. Just one look at the orca's black sclera and glistening green irises and he knew he wanted this. His paw intertwined with Trent's fingers as they both guided that fat, pink dick towards his muzzle. He gave one last look towards Trent, mouthing 'thank you' before immediately going down on the member.

The moment that pulsating rod entered his muzzle and brushed up against the back of his throat, it was like the Big Bang had just gone off in his body. His balls slammed up against his dick and every ounce of his body became devoted to shooting all the seed in his body right into Trent. All the bubbling sensations in his body turned into a flood of power that pooled towards his balls before unleashing it all in one, powerful blast. He held onto Trent's calves with one paw while the orca likewise gripped his broad back with his legs. That force alone allowed him to stay in position but it was the added strength of his newly created muscles that allowed him to push his know about a quarter way into the orca. Triumph was quickly followed by the blast of cum that rocketed out of his monster cock and straight into the orca... and with that rush, came his symbiont.

As had happened many times before, the confuse, juvenile symbiont found itself suddenly forced out of its host. It was immediately approached by Trace, Trent's symbiont, where it was taught some very important lessons before being forced into Trent's own testicles. The two symbionts seemed to cuddle affectionately for a moment, mirroring their hosts' feelings, before Trent's balls sent the younger one straight back up the fat shaft and into Blaine.

Something just told Blaine that he couldn't risk letting a single drop of cum go to waste so he doggedly sealed as much of the thick cock that he could with his lips and diligently suckled and sucked. The first blast of salty cum was both a shock and relief. He drank every drop, feeling his symbiont return and swirl around his system for a few more moments before it flooded back towards his balls, eager to once again be reunited with Trace. As it did so, he consumed more of Blaine's body fat, giving him the perfect, sculpted physique for a professional bodybuilder.

Blaine's second orgasm had him thrusting deeper into Trent, cresting over halfway of his knot before the torrent of seed flooded into Trent and carried his symbiont with it. The cycle continued, knowledge exchanged and hot seed came flooding back into his muzzle with his symbiont. He couldn't help but let out a little groan as the last few inches of height was added to his body, adjusting his frame so that he was perfectly proportional given his broad mass.

Then, came the third and final orgasm.

With a muffled roar, Blaine pushed himself completely into Trent, tying with the orca as his knot popped into the waiting hole. His moment of triumph was celebrated by the explosive fireworks of his orgasm. The last few lessons were passed from symbiont to symbiont and then the now mostly matured symbiont was fired back into Blaine's muzzle. Blaine drank every drop and when Trent was spent, he pulled his head back, staring up at the ceiling with his body convulsing. His eyes stared off into space, a new light of enlightenment shining in those cornflower blue irises as an inky blackness sank in from the corners of his pupils and consumed everything save for his irises.

He grinned brightly as he brought his head back down to face Trent. Leaning down, he gave the orca a deep, passionate kiss lasting an entire minute before he pulled away.

"I'm gonna pull out now, love," he mumbled even though he was still fully erect. "Then you've gotta ask me the question."

Trent only nodded and braced himself as the huge, melon-sized knot was forced back out of him followed by that monster member. The deep red serpent vanished momentarily within the folds of the swirling cum around them before Blaine brought it back up towards his chest, ready to give his answer.

Panting, Trent asked, "So... do you want to join the Department?"

This time, there was no hesitation in Blaine's answer.

"Hell yes, I do."

Then he clamped his muzzle down on his own cock...

... and become one with his Symbiont.

******

Of all the stupid things his brother had ever done, this was by far the worst.

Boris could only shake his head in disapproval as parked his car in front of the Fletcher beach home in Sohomo, Florida. It was the middle of the day and there was already a party in full swing. The music could be heard from several streets away and as he drew closer in the bland, grey sedan, the constant thrumming and drumming only caused his tension headache to get worse.

"Goddamnit, Blaine," he mumbled.

Stepping out of the car, he adjusted his red tie lightly, loosening it so as not to look like a total buzz kill. He had been to these parties before and while he had enjoyed himself back in the day, he was a grown man now; an adult with responsibilities. While Blaine may have had the luxury to go to Spring Break because he purposefully delayed his graduation by years, Boris had a company, reputation and their father to think of.

And now he's gone and decided he's gay just to spite dad...

It had been a long-standing assumption that if anyone_was ever to produce an heir to the Fletcher family name, it'd be Blaine first. Considering how much sex and girlfriends the younger of the twins had gone through, it was a foregone conclusion. Boris had purposefully avoided any sort of romantic entanglements as his first priority had _always been his career. Yes, it was somewhat irritating when his father would try and set him up with some socialite or heiress to further his own goals but it was never a persistent thing.

Now that Blaine had decided he would be gay, Boris knew that his father would start hounding him to pump out a kid. The last thing Boris wanted was to have a child out of social obligation and neglect it due to his responsibilities. That wouldn't be fair to the kid. Just as it wasn't fair that Blaine had thrown aside possibly the only thing that had kept him in their dad's good graces.

It's just another phase. Another attempt to rebel.

By Christmas, Blaine was probably going to come up with some other way to irritate their father and he would be breaking the heart of some guy that he had hooked up with. That was likely going to cause no end of controversy and Boris would have to be responsible for cleaning it up.

Probably a good thing I haven't told dad about this yet...

He grimaced at the thought of what his father would have to say about all this.

The front doors to the mansion were wide open and there were a few guys hanging out on the patio, shamelessly flirting and mostly dressed in little else than their swimwear. Little surprise really given Spring Break had just started. To Blaine's credit, he was committing to this 'I'm gay' bit as there wasn't a single girl in sight.

Sighing to himself, he asked one of the attendees where he could find his brother. He was directed to the back of the house where the majority of the party was being held. It probably wasn't a good idea to go _through_the house for the moment. There were a lot of people and he didn't want to have to think about all the cleanup he'd have to do when he finally convinced Blaine to drop this charade.

So he made his way around the sides of the house to the source of the loud music. He plugged his ears and again asked one of the partygoers where he could find Blaine.

"You mean Trent's boyfriend?" the spry otter with the body of a supermodel asked. "He's over there serving drinks!"

Of course he is.

Following where the otter pointed, he fought the urge to call the man a liar. The only guy behind the bar was this _huge_bodybuilder. Right species but there was no way that could be his twin brother. Sure they had taken different paths in life and Blaine had always been a bit more athletic than Boris but the guy behind the bar wearing nothing but a rather revealing, deep red thong couldn't be his brother...?

Wait a second...

As he approached the bar, his jaw slowly dropped further open.

The fox behind the bar, standing about seven feet tall, was a titan amongst men; a walking anatomy chart pumped with testosterone and oozing masculinity. Every muscle was defined and pushed to their absolute limit, maybe even beyond. Boris had seen profession bodybuilders who would be green with jealousy at the sight of the vulpine's huge, taut pecs, pumpkin-sized arms and that perfectly symmetrical, hilly back.

More, the fox had a diamond stud earring in his left ear and piercing in each nipple, looking like there were huge, black door knockers hanging from each of his permanently erect nubs. The fox was so tall, in fact, that it was very easy to see the deep red thong he wore with the word 'Beef' drawn in bright gold letters vertically down the huge silhouette of his genitals. Nothing was left to the imagination with that garment.

"Blaine?" he yelled over the noise as he pushed to the front of the crowd. "Blaine!? Is that you?"

The fox caught his gaze, cornflower blue eyes shining. "Hey! Boris! You made it!"

Holy shit... it is him.

"What...? Huh?" was all he could manage.

'Blaine' waved at someone. "Someone cover for us! This is our brother!"

Boris knew his brother had never been good with grammar or vocabulary but he could have sworn Blaine had referred to himself using plurals.

The fox moved out from behind the bar - a new addition to the backyard - and gestured for Boris to follow him to a quieter location indoors. He was glad for the relative quiet as they entered the mansion. The moment they did, Blaine caught him in a tight hug. It was like being compressed by huge ball bearings and Boris let out a soft squeak.

"Oh! Sorry!" Blaine chuckled, releasing him. "Don't know our own strength."

Boris had to collect his thoughts for thirty seconds before he could manage to say anything. "What... What happened to you?"

Blaine beamed at him bright, flexing both his arms and showing off those impossibly mountainous muscles. "We finally found our calling with the Department!"