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It was true, what they say about the sky always being yellow in rain or shine. At least, over here. Just like New Zealand is always green and hilly, and Australia is always...er...Outbacky. So, not a complete truth, more of a convenient truth. Of course, Taz doesn't care about any of this, because the yellow skies opened up to release a torrent of rain just as his afternoon of brotherly bonding was starting to get really fun.

Here he was, clinging to a tree, swiping at Jake while the little guy ran around with an airplane trying to divebomb complete with soundtrack courtesy of his lips. In the hand not attached to a tree Taz held one of the Barbies his sister Molly used to play with. No Faye Wray, but satisfactory nonetheless. And just as "King Kong" was about to send the plane crashing to the "city" below, a flash of lightning and crack of thunder split open the heavens and down came the rain.

Taz doesn't like rain. In fact, Taz has a strong dislike for all things water.

"Taz hate bath. Taz hate bath TAZ HATE BATH!" he yells, flailing about in a vain attempt to keep dry.

Jake throws down his plane and raises his voice to the capricious sky. "Really? We were just starting to have fun! Jeez Louise. C'mon, Taz, let's go in the house before we get soaked. Taz?" Taz is nowhere to be found. Coincidentally, Jake hears a whimper from inside the tent they set up earlier in the morning in anticipation of a one-night camping trip. "Fine, have it your way."

The dark clouds over Jake's head dissipate, however, when he throws back the door flap to find his big brother curled up in a ball at the far end of the tent. Soaked and shivering, Taz looks more miserable than when he's forced to sit in a tub full of suds. Sometimes their parents have to send the boys into the bathroom together so Jake can make sure they both get clean. Jake loves baths, and while he can't understand his brother's aversion, he knows Taz feels better when he's not alone and wet.

"You okay, Taz?" he asks, barely audible above the pattering rain.

One forlorn, bloodshot eye peeks out over an elbow. "Taz hate bath."

"It's not a bath, silly. It's just rain."

"Taz hate bath..." As always, it's useless to argue, especially with a devil whose vocabulary numbers in the dozens of words accented by thousands of assorted grunts, spits and growls.

"Okay. I'm gonna go get towels. I'll be right back." Taz nods, and five minutes later Jake's back with big old bath sheets.

After zipping the flap closed, Jake peels his shirt and kicks off his shoes and socks into a corner. Taz isn't similarly encumbered, so when he feels the towel around his shoulders he pulls it tight and buries himself as deep as he can go. When Jake is as dry as he can be under the circumstances, he pads over to Taz and starts massaging the older devil's shoulders. His hatred of baths assuaged, he groans and leans into Jake's grip, surprisingly strong for his age.

"You like that?" Jake inquires.

"Uh huh uh huh uh huh!" Taz nods.

"Randy Beeman taught me how. You know my friend Randy Beeman?" Taz nods again, having heard the name several times before. "Yeah, he's really neat. He knows a lot about a lot, too, and we're the same age even."

Taz turns slightly, not nearly far enough to disrupt the the heaven that is Jake's kneading hands. "Jake smart too." He turns away, crestfallen. "Taz stupid."

Jake stops mid-knead. "You're not stupid! Who said you were?"

"Nobody. But...Taz hate bath..." He flails his hands away from his lap: It's pretty self-evident, Jake.

Suddenly Jake is face-to-face with him, more or less a smaller version of himself (who wears a T-shirt and shoes but no pants; Taz has always wondered what the point was) with a pink nose instead of black. He looks angry. The finger he pokes into Taz's chest is angry. And his tone is definitely angry. "You take that back! That doesn't mean anything! I hate showers, so there. I won't take a shower until Mom and Dad make me. I know you don't like water, but you have to be clean. Isn't it better when we share?"

Taz can't honestly disagree, so he nods. He's never seen his little brother this adamant, and his heart swells seeing Jake stand up for him. He may be the eldest child, but he has more obstacles to deal with than Jake and Molly combined.

"So there. Nyah." Jake sticks out his tongue and pulls down an eyelid, anime-style, and it's too much. Before he realizes it, Taz has pulled the little guy close to squeeze the life out of him. He makes the cutest squeaking sounds while being crushed.

"Taz love Jake. Love so much..."

"Aww, I love you too, big guy," Jake murmurs into Taz's chest. "Forever and ever." Taz blinks away a tear when they pull apart, only to see Jake sharing his problem. This was definitely not the way they were supposed to start their boys-only campout, but--oh shit!

No doubt, the nose-touch was intended to be simply innocent and chaste, but unbeknownst to Jake it's one of Taz's hot buttons. He discovered this a few years ago when snuggling with his favorite plush dingo, and the resulting sticky mess wasn't far behind. Thankfully, he and Dad already had the talk about feelings and changes and yackety-schmackety, and while Taz didn't understand the why, he understood the when and how. After that, it was just what he did. Several times a day.

"Taz?" Jake's voice seems far away, hidden behind some kind of curtain. He feels himself shaken gently, then more firmly until he opens his eyes. Jake has a worried look to him, and it's probably due to the fact that Taz has his lips pressed to the little devil's, Jake's warm nosepad sending shivers down his spine...and blood to other places. He yelps and scoots back until he hits the wall of the tent, curling up again to hide himself. But he can tell by the kid's face the damage is done.

"T-T-Taz go inside now," Taz stammers, yet he can't move for fear of exposing himself. He doesn't quite know why he has to be chaste, as Jake is as naked as he is, but somehow he feels like it's his responsibility to keep his brother safe from...something, and it involves the stuff between his legs.

On his knees, Jake scoots closer. The more Taz tries not to look at a certain spot, the more he wants to. It's not like he doesn't see it everyday anyway, but...it's different somehow. Even after discovering how to make himself feel good, he wanted to ask his father about technique, and frequency, and...and size. But he knows it's very personal. And Jake might not yet understand.

"No," Jake insists. "Taz stays here." The little devil's hands grip Taz's shoulders as the kid forces his brother to meet his gaze. "We're camping out and that's that. I'm not letting some dumb old rainstorm ruin it." And, of all the things he could do, he decides to come back in for a nose-nuzzle.

Caught between his love for his little brother and his contact-triggered lust, Taz plays along and hopes Jake doesn't find out the side effect of the erstwhile caress. He lasts all of five seconds before a shudder passes through his body, accompanied by an unmistakable moan. He simply can't help it; it's as if there's a direct link between his nose and his sheath. Keeping himself covered, he returns the nuzzle, eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of Jake's moist pad and his growing erection attempting to poke its way free of his fingers.

"What's that smell?" Jake suddenly asks, and Taz remembers that fingers can't mask scents. "Is that you?"

The blush crawls up into Taz's face but he can only cover one body part at a time. Now his embarrassment is adding to his arousal, quickly closing in on the point of no return. Soon he'll have to get off or risk having an erection for the rest of the night. This is not the kind of campout he wanted. How does he explain this to a kid who probably isn't even old enough to squirt yet?

"Jake no look." As if he expects the kid to obey. Jake, a kid who hears a statement like that and wants to look even more because of it.

"Don't look at what, Taz? You're making me feel funny." Jake looks down at himself, Taz's eyes follow, and both utter respective squeaks. "Gee," the kid says, "I think it's making me pokey."

Taz sees the little bit of pink peeking out of Jake's cream-colored sheath and groans.

"Hey!" Jake says, as if having an epiphany, "are you pokey too? You don't have to hide it, I know what they look like. See?" He stands back, arms akimbo and legs spread, completely unashamed of his so-far two stiff inches.

Since his little brother seems to have no problem parading around naked, and Taz is naked pretty much all the time anyway, it would stand to reason that he should have no problem opening up to Jake, so to speak. But why does he feel so weird about it? It's not like he has anything to be ashamed of, especially up against Jake's little spike. And he can't very well sit here in the tent curled up all night. So he gathers up his courage, turns around and places his hands on his knees, eyes closed.

Silence falls over the tent like a heavy blanket, punctuated by the steady rain above and around them. "Oh my gosh," the kid gasps, moving closer by the sound of it. "Oh my gosh."

"What?" Taz peeks through one squinted eye. Jake has gotten on all fours and is staring down at his bits.

"It's awesome."

"It awesome?"

"Totally awesome, Taz. It's big, and hard, and...and big." Jake speaks with a kind of wonder, and Taz catches a glimpse of his little brother's dick pushing its way to full erection, a solid three inches and quiveringly hard. Suddenly he is very thankful the rain is making so much noise.

"Why awesome?" asks Taz.

Pausing to think, Jake scratches his chin, apparently oblivious to the overarching awkwardness of it all. "Well, aside from big and hard, I dunno what else. Randy Beeman showed me his one day. It was cool and all but then he just put it away. He says his brother's got a big one when it's hard but he's never seen his dad's like that. So..." And the kid finishes with the kind of shrug a prepubescent uses to finish a thought without really committing to any of what he just said.

Jake's story reminds Taz of a time he saw his dad walk from the shower to his bedroom, towel over one shoulder, and completely hard. Like it was no big yackety-schmackety at all. Whistling, even.

"What're you doing?" Jake asks. Taz blinks and realizes he's idly stroking himself to the memory. He takes his hand away to hide it behind his back, as if that will do him any good now.

"Nothing. Taz do nothing. Jake go play."

A dour shadow falls over Jake's face. His hands are balled into fists, shaking slightly. Normally his lip would start to tremble too, but evidently the little guy is merely angry instead of hurt. "Go where? The other side of the tent, ten feet away? And what, play dollies with my wet clothes?" He's right, and Taz knows it.

"Taz sorry," he mumbles. "Taz just no want Jake confused."

Sitting on crossed legs, Jake leans in so he can meet Taz's downward gaze. "Confused about what?"

The images are there. The concepts are there. The feelings are there, but the words aren't. After several attempts to explain in his limited vocabulary, the devil buries his face in his hands and growls to himself. Neither erection shows any hint of softening, but he can't...

"Is it about rubbing wieners? Cuz I already know about that."

Taz's cock twitches as he lifts his head. "Jake not supposed to know yet. Who told?"

"Randy Beeman," Jake answers. "He never did it with me yet but he said he'll try to with his brother when he's sleeping. He says he's pretty sure Tony isn't sleeping most of the time, but he's too shy to tell Randy he likes it. One time he even got Tony to squirt, but before I could ask his mom called him down to dinner and that was that."

Taz takes a good while to pick his jaw up from the tent floor. "Jake too young for this stuff."

"Save it," Jake yawns with a roll of his eyes. "It's no big deal. S'just wieners." The poor kid, he looks so innocent even when talking about debauchery. "So can we?"

"Can...huh?"

"Rub wieners. I mean, we only have one toy in here cuzza the rain, and I guess rubbing is the only way to make 'em go down. At least, that's what Randy said." Jake moves to his knees, crawling until they're so close the kid could reach out and touch Taz's raging hardon if he wanted. And it looks like touching is becoming inevitable.

Jake young. Jake no know what Jake doing. Jake stop. They're all on the tip of Taz's tongue, but in the back of his mind are the furtive masturbation sessions and experimental vegetables he's stolen from the garden on occasion. And countless loads sprayed on his bed, in the shower, and other places around the house. As if in a trance, Taz watches himself move back as Jake extends his hand between Taz's open legs and grasps his shaft about halfway down.

Taz makes a sound like an asthmatic boar, mouth open wide in the unmistakable "O" of pleasure.

"Wow," murmurs the little devil, encircling the organ, squeezing gently. "It's way hot. Does that feel good? It does to me."

"Uh huh," Taz whimpers, helpless. A bead of pre bubbles up from the tip and crawls down the head until it spreads across Jake's fingers. The next few words are excruciatingly difficult to say. "Jake no have to if Jake no want."

"I know. But I want to. You're my big brother. I like it when you're happy." Jake crawls closer until he's essentially straddling Taz, hardness on hardness, balls to balls. He has to use both hands to press them together. "This is even better than I thought it would be," he says dreamily. "Never thought I'd be doing it with you. It's only been my pillow so far."

They stay that way for a few minutes, suspended in time with raindrops as their metronome. Taz feels no need to direct his little brother, and now that they're like this he's not impatient to come and get on with the evening. Eventually their foreheads meet, both marveling at their differences.

"Taz," Jake finally says, "this is soooooo much better than my pillow." The admission quells Taz's misgivings somewhat. The kid's having had these feelings before helps reduce the guilt. Somewhere along the line, when Jake full-on hugs him, Taz lets go entirely and surrenders to the moment and recognizes it as more than feel-good play. For a couple of brothers who get along well but are almost too far apart in age to share any interests, this is one thing they have in common. And, for once, Taz doesn't need erudition.

"Oh, Jake..." His little brother seems satisfied all the same, pushing until Taz is flat on his back with the kid rubbing away in slow circles. He never knew Jake possessed this level of sensuality--hell, he could be discovering it for the first time--but no one's complaining. With only the rain as witness, the devils spend the next ten minutes making themselves, and each other, feel awesome. Several times Jake speeds up to a rabbit's pace before almost stopping, then slowly starting again, panting deeply.

"My legs are starting to get sore," Jake admits with a chuckle. "But it feels too good to stop!"

"Why Jake no come?"

Jake looks at Taz as if the older devil had just walked off a spaceship. "Huh?"

"Jake keep slowing down."

"Well, yeah...I don't wanna pee on you. If it gets too much, it feels like I gotta go."

What's the problem with that? Taz thinks, before he figures out that Jake has never had an orgasm. All that pillow-humping and no release...but perhaps blue balls is still a foreign concept. "No pee. It...hm."

"What's wrong?" asks Jake, stilling his hips.

"Taz thinking."

"Uh oh."

Instead of punching Jake in the arm like usual, Taz merely hugs the kid closer. An idea has occurred to him, one that's very attractive, but he doesn't know if Jake is ready. But that hard, hot little spike crushed between them is too tempting.

With a signature grin, Taz nose-nuzzles his little brother. "Taz have idea."

"Uh oh!"

"Just sit up!"

Jake pushes back onto his haunches, legs spread, his pride and joy pointing north almost parallel to his body. Taz admires the compact dimensions of it and the neat little sac below, so tight it looks like it only contains a single testicle. Reaching out, Taz hefts it a few times, much to Jake's approval, then gives the dick a few tugs. Jake appears to have ascended to a new level of heaven.

"Oh, my gosh...omigosh omigosh what're you doing?"

Just wait until I get that thing in my mouth, Taz thinks. But that's for another time.

"Jake feel good?"

"Uh...duh!"

"Good." Taz returns to his own erection, indulging in a few strokes to milk up a good dollop of precum while the kid watches, transfixed. Once he's obtained a decent amount he places his slick fingers between Jake's legs. Jake looks about ready to die from the sensation; he's beyond words. The pure hotness of what they're sharing, the unbridled intimacy, supersedes all else. His expressions, his noises, his bright twinkling eyes...all priceless. Jake goes half-lidded, the concentrated musk in the tent getting to him.

Working out another good bit, Taz applies it outside his hole, pressing in a few times but not too far. Jake will do the rest.

"What are you doing?" This seems to be Jake's question-du-jour.

"Jake wait. Jake see." Taz rocks onto his back, legs open.

Jake's eyes widen as if he's never seen a tailhole before. He bends closer to inspect it, and Taz notices the kid take a whiff while trying to hide the fact. But it's impossible. It's as natural as sleeping, or pillow-humping.

"N-now what?"

Taz grins. "Jake put inside Taz."

Jake scoffs. "Yeah, right. Nice one."

"Taz serious."

It takes Jake a few seconds to realize this, his face evolving through quite a few expressions, settling on curiosity disguised as disgust. "Eww, gross!"

"Not gross. Feel good! Trust Taz."

Jake's ruse doesn't last long. He's too worked up to truly resist, and the possibility of even greater things overcomes his reaction. "It's not dirty?"

Shaking his head, Taz assures him, "Taz hate bath, but Taz clean inside. Promise."

"Okay..." And Jake...who still plays boats in the bathtub every night...scoots forward, pushes his dick down, and nudges it under Taz's tail. "Now I..."

"Push."

"Okay." Taz knows he'll have no trouble--compared to the cucumbers he's used Jake is like a baby carrot--but nothing could have prepared him for the emotions of being penetrated by a real live person for the first time.

Now he knows why Didgeri Dingo asked him so many times to "just try it."

Now he knows why that yellow dog made so many nice noises when Taz finally put it in.

Now he knows, and Jake isn't even that big. But it's hot and hard and Jake, and that's all he needs.

Jake, on the other hand, just about jumps out of his skin when he pops in. His fur poofs out in a comical floof from head to toe, his hips thrusting automatically as nature takes over. He lets out several ragged breaths before finding his voice.

"I...I...I feel funny..."

"Mmmrrr," Taz groans, gripping the bedroll below him. "Funny good. Jake hump Taz like pillow now."

"Is that...is that what I'm supposed to do?" His little brother's voice is a quavering note.

"Yes," Taz assures him. "Jake hump til Jake done. When Jake feel like pee, Jake no stop no matter what. Okay?"

"You want me to pee in you?" Actually, that sounds delightful, but now is not the time.

"It not pee. Jake trust Taz. Please?" Taz can't quite keep the desperation from his voice, nor does he want to. He wants Jake to see him vulnerable, to feel the power he possesses over his big brother.

Jake attempts a few experimental thrusts, moaning almost above the rain. "It can't get any better than this."

"It does."

"Omigosh...I hafta pee already."

"Keep going!"

"Uh, something's happening. Something's...Taz. Taz? TAZ!"

"Hey Jake."

"Whuh?" Jake asks through the haze of his impending climax.

Taz clenches, holding the kid's gaze, but not for long. Jake gasps, wracked with new feelings. It takes Taz back to his first time, and how completely and wonderfully helpless he felt as sensation overwhelmed him for a solid twenty seconds. He's amused as a string of vulgarity spills out from the kid's mouth.

"Taz, oh god, oh fuck, oh my fuck, fuckfuckfuckFUCK!" With a grip that will likely leave bruises on Taz's legs, Jake pistons uncontrollably, a lewd version of himself, eyes tightly shut, lips a thin beige line of concentration. Five seconds in, when he crests and barks out a noise that's more Taz than Taz thought capable, the older devil grabs his leaking cock and flogs it hard. He starts coming almost as soon as he touches himself.

The next few seconds fade into a blissful fog punctuated by warm splashes on his chin and belly. Somewhere, far away, Jake is finally coming to a stop, having become too sensitive to continue. As soon as his climax subsides, Taz relenquishes his grip and flops back, full and empty at the same time. When he opens his eyes, he sees Jake looking down at him with a cheshire grin. Clearly the little guy's still coming to terms with what his body's just done, though he likely shot blanks up Taz's rump.

"See," Taz pants after regaining his breath, "Jake not pee."

"Def...definitely not pee," Jake concurs. "I don't know what it was, but it was awesome. I..." The kid blushes hard. "I wanna do it again. With you." This is a side of Jake Taz hasn't seen before, probably because they hadn't shared something this special. Taz hopes he hasn't ruined his little brother in some way, no matter how happy Jake may be right now. But he can worry about that later. For now, they have each other in this tent, in this moment.

"Taz like that too." He emphasizes this with a clench that sends Jake up into full hardness once again.

"Good. Maybe we can cuddle a bunch too?"

"Jake cuddle all Jake want. Taz love Jake."

For a moment Jake looks ready to cry, but he huffs it up and just smiles. "Jake love Taz too. Lots and lots. Uh...I think I'm ready to go again. It won't go down," he says with a giggle. He's the same kid he was this morning, give or take a humping or two.

Taz grabs behind his knees and pulls them to his messy chest. "Taz not stop you!"

This time they go much slower. After all, they're stuck in a tent with only the pouring rain to keep them company besides each other.

And no one is leaving, because Taz hate bath, and Jake love Taz.

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