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by kirle

Gallery

The photo slid out of Note’s camera with a soft whir, the image slowly developing in his paws. Kirle stood in the frame, his russet fur catching the sunlight as he flashed a peace sign, his eyes closed and a wide, carefree smile spread across his muzzle. The park behind him was a blur of green with the cool hue of the sky across, the perfect backdrop for the moment.

Twenty minutes earlier, that smile had been replaced by a feral grin, his claws digging into Note’s hips as he pounded into his twin from behind. Note’s muzzle had been buried in the sheets, his golden eyes squeezed shut as he moaned Kirle’s name, his tail thrashing wildly. Kirle had been buried deep inside him, each thrust driving Note closer to the edge until they both came with ragged growls, their bodies trembling and slick with sweat.

Now, Kirle stood in the sunlight, looking every bit the picture of innocence, while Note smirked behind the camera, knowing the truth of what had happened just moments before. The photo captured only the smile, but Note would always remember the hunger in Kirle’s eyes, the way his claws had felt against his skin, and the low growl that had escaped his throat as he came.

Kirle opened his eyes, his tail swishing lazily as he glanced at the photo. “Looks good,” he said, his voice casual, as if they hadn’t just been tangled together in a mess of fur and heat. Note chuckled, tucking the photo into his bag.

“Yeah,” he replied, his golden eyes gleaming with mischief. “We should do this more often.”

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