Work Text:
***
Jim was doing really well at the Academy, he really was. His mother worried, and she had every right, but she didn't have to! He was a genius. Hadn't she even admitted it?
Sure, his core classes weren't the best they could be—he'd rather clean the latrines than take his Notuan Lit. final— but the ones that actually mattered, the ones that were actually useful? He was the best, without a single doubt. He even spent his free-time helping out his fellow classmates if they needed it...and maybe sometimes if they didn't.
But that was the kicker, wasn't it?
The thought finally comes to Jim at the most ironic of times, with the Pardusian, from his Tech class purring in his ear.
"Is this a fetish?" he asks, turning slightly to face the feline—he couldn't remember the name—behind him. At the question, a single ear flicked upwards, a silent question. They were in Jim's dorm room—his roommate quite willing to let him have it to himself for awhile, bless him—and it was just a quarter past one. They had about thirty minutes before lunch ended and they'd have to head to class, so the two had quickly retreated to the dorms after a few heated looks. Honestly, Jim wasn't even sure how he'd managed it at all. His school back on Montressor wasn't nearly as large as the Academy, and Jim certainly hadn't been much of a flirt. In fact, he had actively avoided getting into those types of messes. "The fooling-around-with-every-species-possible thing?" Jim elaborated. "Is it...a kink?"
A short furred tail then slapped innocently against Jim's thigh. "Is that what all of this has been?" his partner inquired, voice a soothing tenor against his ear.
When Jim doesn't reply, the Pardusian—stars, why couldn't he remember his name?—shrugged, climbing back into position over the human teen. The brunette's back was to the other's spotted front, claws digging just slightly into his side as the Pardusian—was it Gerald? It had to be Gerald—nuzzled the back of his neck. "It could be, if you wanted." he hummed, hips rutting roughly against Jim's ass.
Briefly, Jim would always consider taking off his uniform and avoiding the inevitable mess his pristine uniform would become if he didn't. But, and he'd swear it a million times over, the uniform just made it better.
Was that a fetish too?
With ten minutes left before they'd be scrambling to class, they'd switched positions. Now, Jim lay on his back, uniform trousers and pants discarded while his blazer and undershirt made a rumpled mess just under his arms. Gerald was between his legs, his thin, pink cock grinding lewdly against Jim's own.
As if to mock him, the thought came back, just as the feline student's grunts and gasps became curses.
What was wrong with him?
He really liked Gerald's penis. It was thin, only the width of two fingers, but he had a good few inches out of most of their classmates.
(Remembering how many penises he'd seen in the last month alone was a startling, and extremely arousing, thought all on its own.)
Three dark red veins ran from the base to the tip, where cum had long since been streaming out like rivers, pooling at the base of Jim's cock where it made a mess in dark brown curls. Where their dick's met, the flesh turned darker at the contact—truly, Jim wished he could convince one of the art electives' to recreate it for him on paper; he probably would, after this. The teen let out a helpless laugh, mixing cruelly with the desperate cries and gasps he'd been making beforehand.
"Fuck," he found himself cursing, resting heavily on his forearms, legs spread wide around Gerald as the other's thrusts became erratic, "A-ah, oh g-god, oh god!" Something in his lower back tingled, and he arched his back as he spent himself just after the Pardusian, making a happy mess in the speckled tan fur.
Gerald began to purr, and slumped contently against Jim.
"No, no! None of that!" Jim scolded, forcing the other off of him as he attempted to put himself back together. Where had his trousers gone, now?
"Oh, come on, we have time." Gerald wined, even as he zipped his slacks back up and hunted for his shoes. "I don't see how a bit of cuddling would hurt anything."
"We have 3 minutes before lunch is over, and I'll be screwed if I'm late." Jim argued, managing to keep his voice steady while he wiped at a small stain on the edge of his undershirt. He sighed. He'd just have to keep it tucked in. Gerald only snickered, throwing his bag over his shoulder and hollering a short goodbye.
Halfway down the hall, he taunted, "You've already been screwed, sweetheart!"
Jim scowled. "What a sleaze." he muttered, and then paused, glancing down at his disheveled, but acceptable, appearance.
What would mom think? He pondered, already on the way to his dreaded Military Conduct elective. How did this even start?
Then, just outside of the gym, he spotted a shy looking Ursid eyeing him from behind a book. He stopped, remembering warmth all around him, a happy little chuckle, and a slap on the back.
Rather promptly, Jim winked and went right on his way. He'd no doubt see the other student soon enough.