✨Knotted Amongst the Stars✨

🐾Chapter 2 The Admiral's Son🐾

Voss stepped out of the banquet hall, the heavy doors sliding shut behind him with a soft hiss, sealing off the vibrant energy of the evening. The quiet of Horizon Station's corridors enveloped him almost immediately, the contrast so stark it felt like the space station itself was drawing a breath, exhaling softly into the silence. The cool metallic walls gleamed under the station's ambient lighting, casting long shadows along the floor, stretching into the distance like the endless void outside. He paused for a moment just outside the doors, letting the silence settle around him, his senses adjusting to the low hum of the station's systems. The sound of his own breathing seemed louder now, more pronounced, as though the station was absorbing everything else. He flexed his shoulders slightly, rolling them to release some of the tension from the long evening. The weight of his uniform jacket, the stiff fabric and precise fit, made his muscles feel boxed in after hours of standing at attention and engaging in polite conversation.

After the brief pause, Voss began to walk, his boots making soft, measured sounds against the metal floor. Each step echoed faintly, a rhythm that matched the steady pulse of the station itself. He had always liked moments like this--the in-betweens, when the station was quiet, and the only sounds were the low murmur of the air vents and the hum of distant machinery. Horizon Station was vast, a maze of interconnected corridors, sleek and modern, its architecture a testament to both military efficiency and cutting-edge design. The station housed everything from medical facilities and research labs to the bustling operations centre and training grounds for new recruits. The scale of it all felt immense, but to Voss, it was a reminder of what he had worked for--what he had earned. All those years of training, he thought, his eyes scanning the corridor ahead, and here I am--one of the best damn officers Stellar Command has ever seen.

The thought brought a small smirk to his lips. Voss had never been one to shy away from acknowledging his own worth. He had worked his way to the top of his class at the Academy, pushed himself harder than anyone, and it had paid off. The station was his proving ground now, a place to show everyone what he was truly capable of--not just his father's son, but his own wolf. As he walked, his mind wandered back to the banquet, to the endless conversations, the smiles, the congratulations. So many of them had been directed not at him, but at the wolf who had raised him. Well... raised him would be a stretch--bred his mother would be more accurate. Not that his father had abandoned him, no. Admiral Voss had simply always been away--off commanding fleets, saving the galaxy from one crisis or another, answering the call of duty before all else. When was he ever home long enough to raise a son? To shape him? To teach him?

And yet, the praise always came so easily. "Your father must be so proud." Like the admiral had earned the right to be. Like Kaelan's achievements belonged to him.

He reached the deck where the junior officers were housed, the corridor narrowing as it led to the smaller, more utilitarian quarters. The rooms here were simple, practical, just like the ones back at the Academy. Four bunks, stacked two by two, with just enough space for a private locker each and a small shared metal desk in the centre. It wasn't much, but it was theirs. Voss's section was near the end of the hall, the third bunk his own, nestled against the wall. He should consider himself lucky they didn't have a fourth yet, though he was sure the space would be filled in time. He entered his room, the door sliding shut behind him, cutting off the last remnants of the station's distant hum. The air inside was warmer, filled with the subtle scents of his roommates--sweat, old cologne, the faint metallic tang of boots and gear that had been worn all day. The room was dimly lit, and though it was still and quiet now, the space felt lived-in, as though the day's energy still lingered in the walls. For now, Voss had the room to himself. His two roommates were likely still out, probably attending some after-party or social gathering, but Voss didn't mind. He enjoyed the solitude when it came--an opportunity to unwind at his own pace, free from the pull of conversation and expectation. Sure, the wolf was charismatic by nature, but even he could appreciate the quiet when it found him.

Moving with the same deliberate precision he had been trained to use in every aspect of his life, Voss began to undress. His fingers worked methodically, unfastening the clasps on his jacket, feeling the weight of the fabric fall away as he slid it off and hung it carefully in his small locker. The maroon and silver of the uniform gleamed in the low light, the fabric still stiff despite wear through the evening's formality. He sat at the edge of his bunk, tugging off each boot with slow, measured movements. The soft rasp of the laces sliding through the eyelets filled the room, the repetitive sound almost soothing as he set the boots neatly under the bed. With each article of clothing he removed, he felt more like himself again, the rigid formality of the evening peeling away to reveal the wolf beneath. Voss stood in front of the small mirror attached to his locker door, his reflection filling the limited space. The maroon briefs he wore clung to his hips, the silver trim catching the light as he moved, the fabric stretched tight, barely containing the obscene bulge between his legs--his heavy balls pressing against the snug material, the thick outline of his sheath clearly visible, straining against the limits of containment. Even at rest, there was no hiding the sheer size of him. He flexed absently, watching the way his muscles shifted beneath his fur--broad shoulders, a thick, solid chest, and the defined lines of his abdomen tapering down toward his waist. All those years at the Academy, he thought, all the training, the discipline--this is the result. He was proud of his body, proud of the work he had put into it. It wasn't just about strength; it was about control, about owning every part of himself, knowing that he was built for this--built for command, for power, for dominance. His reflection stared back at him, confident, self-assured.

But as he reached down to slide off his briefs, the scent hit him. Strong, pungent, almost overwhelming. It was a thick mix of sweat, dried cum, and something else--something more personal. He could smell it now, the lingering scent of the bear whose tight, unyielding arse he had taken just before boarding the transport to Horizon Station. The memory flickered in his mind--a vivid image of that bear, bent over, his wife watching with wide eyes as Voss claimed him for the first time. There had been something primal about it, the way the bear had trembled beneath him, the way his moans had echoed through the room as Voss had pushed inside, stretching him, filling him completely. The young ensign had taken pride in it, knowing that he had been the first--the one to introduce the bear and his wife to a side of themselves they hadn't even known existed. It had been raunchy, rough, the kind of sex that left a mark, both physically and mentally. The bear had been tight, inexperienced, and Voss had relished every moment of it, the way he had felt the bear's resistance give way to pleasure, the way his knot had swollen as he locked himself inside. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the memory wash over him. The scent of the bear's arse still clung to him, mixed with his own cum, a potent reminder of the power he had wielded over them both. But then, out of nowhere, the sharp words of that fox from earlier in the day cut through the memory, bringing a flush of heat to Voss's face.

"Did you just come straight from a brothel?"

Voss's smirk faltered. The fox's voice was still clear in his mind, the sharpness of those words biting deeper than he cared to admit. He wasn't embarrassed, not by what he had done--that was part of who he was, after all. But the way he had said it, the way his amber eyes had flicked over Voss's body with both disdain and... something else, had left him feeling off-balance. There was something about him, Voss thought, frowning as he tossed his soiled briefs into the laundry bin. Something about that fox...He couldn't put his finger on it. The fox had been snarky, dismissive even, but there had been a spark there, a challenge in those amber eyes that had stirred something in Voss. It wasn't just the words that had stuck with him--it was the way he had looked at him, like he was both drawn to him and determined to push him away at the same time.

With a heavy sigh, Voss grabbed his towel and slung it over his shoulder, not bothering to cover up as he headed toward the showers. Normally, Voss wouldn't have cared what anyone thought about his sexual activities. He liked being brazen, being unapologetically himself. It was part of his charm, after all. But something about that fox... something about the way he had said it, the way his amber eyes had flicked over Voss's body, left him feeling... off. What the hell is it about him? Voss thought, his mind lingering on the fox longer than he intended.

The wolf's heavy sheath swung lazily between his legs as he walked, his bare paws brushing against the cool metal floor with each step. He moved with a relaxed, almost predatory grace, his muscles shifting under his fur in a way that made him look larger than life in the dim light. He didn't rush--there was no need. The showers weren't going anywhere, and the walk gave him time to let his mind wander.

Drayton. His name was Drayton, Voss remembered, frowning. The fox's face kept appearing in his thoughts, unbidden but persistent. He could still hear his voice, sharp and biting. Unless, of course, The Academy's standards have lowered since personal hygiene seems to be optional now. Those amber eyes flicking over him with a mix of disdain and something else--something the wolf couldn't quite pin down. It wasn't just the insult that had stuck with him; it was the challenge in Drayton's tone, the way he had stood his ground, unbothered by Voss's presence. Most people aren't like that. Most people, when faced with Voss's sheer physical presence, tended to falter--whether in admiration or intimidation. But Drayton had been different. His words had cut deeper than Voss wanted to admit, and that bothered him more than anything. He wasn't used to being affected like that, especially not by someone so... small.

He shook his head slightly, trying to push the thoughts away, but they clung to him like the smell of the bear's cum still lingering in his fur. Voss turned the corner, his eyes catching the glow from several open bunk doors as he moved through the junior officers' quarters. The scent of others--sweat, soap, and the faint musk of bodies--hung in the air, reminding him of how tightly packed life on the station could be. He liked that smell, the way it made the station feel alive, like every room was connected by the shared experience of being here, far from home. As he passed by one of the open doors, a familiar scent caught his nose--musky, deep, and unmistakable. Ash. Voss slowed his pace, letting the smell wash over him, a flood of memories returning in waves. Ashen had always had a distinctive scent, one that had lingered on Voss's fur long after their encounters at The Academy. It was earthy, primal, with a subtle sweetness beneath the surface--a scent that had clung to Voss's sheets more than a few times.

Without thinking, Voss paused in front of the open door, leaning casually against the frame as his eyes found the lion inside. Ashen was sprawled out on his bunk, dressed only in a pair of casual shorts, one leg draped over the edge as he absently scrolled through a datapad, his golden fur catching the low light of the corridor. He looked relaxed, comfortable--his muscular frame stretching out across the small bunk, claiming his small corner of the busy station. Voss smirked, his voice low and smooth as he spoke. "Ash. Didn't think I'd find you cooped up in here."

Ashen looked up, his tawny eyes brightening as he spotted Voss in the doorway. His lips curled into a slow, easy grin, his sharp fangs gleaming in the dim light. "Well, well. If it isn't the wolf himself." He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bunk as he set the datapad aside. "Didn't expect to see you here so soon. Not out partying?"

Voss stepped further into the room, his broad frame filling the narrow space between the bunks. "Nah. Thought I'd check out the place. Do a little exploring before things got busy." He glanced around the room, his eyes lingering on the neatly made bunks, the few personal items scattered on the small metal desk. The room smelled like Ashen--like sweat and soap, a mix of familiarity that brought a flood of memories rushing back.

Ashen leaned back on his paws, his eyes flicking down to Voss's body, taking in the sight of him standing there, bare and unashamed. His gaze lingered on Voss's thick sheath, the way it hung low between his legs, swaying slightly with each subtle movement. The lion's scent shifted, deepening with the faint edge of arousal--something Voss recognized all too well. "You haven't changed," Ashen said, his voice tinged with amusement. "Still parading around like you own the place."

Voss chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. "Why change what works?" He crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps flexing slightly as he leaned back against the doorframe. "Besides, you always liked it when I showed off."

Ashen's tail flicked, the movement subtle but telling. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing as he regarded Voss with a playful glint. "You were always good at showing off. Not so great at sticking around, though."

Voss raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "We had fun."

Ashen's lips twitched, a mix of amusement and something else--something closer to longing--flickering across his face. "Yeah, we did."

They had shared more than a few nights together back at The Academy--nights that had started with casual banter and ended in a tangled mess of limbs and fur. It had always been easy with Ash, no strings, no complications. Just physical, raw, the way Voss liked it. But there had been something more between them, an unspoken understanding that lingered even after the physicality faded. Ashen had eventually wanted more, Voss knew that. But he had never been one for commitment, not when there was so much else to explore. Voss intentionally chose a final rotation away from the lion to create some distance between them. He hadn't seen him in almost a year.

Voss moved closer, his presence filling the small room as he loomed over the lion, his body casting a long shadow over the bunk. "Miss me?"

Ashen's eyes flicked up to meet Voss's, his jaw tightening for a moment before he let out a soft chuckle. "Miss is a strong word. But yeah, I thought about you once or twice."

Voss smirked, the response exactly what he'd expected. "I'll bet you did."

The tension between them was palpable, the room thick with the unspoken weight of their shared past. Voss could feel Ashen's eyes on him, the way the lion's scent had shifted, deepened with the faint edge of arousal. It was subtle, but unmistakable--Ashen's body betraying him, even if his words didn't. Before either of them could say more, the sound of giggling drifted through the open door. Voss's ears twitched, catching the light, airy sound as two females passed by in the corridor, their voices barely above a whisper as they stole glances at the wolf standing in the doorway. Voss didn't miss a beat. He straightened up slightly, shifting his weight just enough to flex the muscles in his back and arse, giving them something to giggle about.

The girls' laughter grew louder, bubbling over into breathless giggles, their footsteps quickening as they hurried down the hall, practically tripping over themselves in their excitement. Voss's ears flicked, sharp and attuned, picking up their hushed, frantic voices as they rounded the corner.

"Holy fuck, did you see the size of that?"

"See it? I can't unsee it. That thing was swinging like a godsdamn battering ram."

"I'd sell my soul just to feel it slap against my face."

"Bitch, please. I'd swallow it whole and beg for seconds."

"You'd gag the second he grabbed your head. That beast would ruin you before you even got halfway."

"At least I'd try. You'd chicken out the moment you felt his knot slap against your chin."

"Try me. I'd choke myself stupid on that cock and let him use my throat like a cum dump."

"You think he's a heavy shooter? I bet he knots deep and floods you so full you feel it sloshing inside you for hours."

"Hours? Try days. I want him to breed me so hard I'm still leaking next time I bend over."

"As if you'd even get the chance. I'd let him pin me down and pump me full of his pups before you even got your panties off."

"Bitch, I'd be on all fours before he even asked. I'd let him stretch me open right here in the fucking hall if he wanted."

"I need to know where he sleeps. I'll leave my fucking door unlocked."

"Unlocked? Fuck that--I'd rip the damn panel off the wall so my door won't close and wait on my bed, legs spread, cunt dripping."

"You think he'd take both of us? Because I'd happily share if it meant getting a taste."

"Who are we kidding? A wolf like that? He'd break us both--and I'd thank him for it."

Voss chuckled under his breath, his smirk widening as he watched them go. Still got it.

Ashen shook his head, his lips curving into a wry smile. "You haven't changed a bit, have you?"

Voss turned back to the lion, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Why would I? I told you. This"--he gestured to his body, the easy confidence radiating from him--"works."

Ashen laughed, the sound deep and warm, but there was an edge to it--an edge that told Voss the lion wasn't just amused. There was something else there, something that lingered just beneath the surface. Longing, maybe. Or regret. Voss had always been good at reading people, and he could see the way Ashen's gaze lingered on him, the way his scent shifted, his pulse quickening just enough to give him away.

"Still like what you see?" Voss asked, his voice low, teasing.

Ashen's tail flicked again, his eyes narrowing as he gave Voss a slow, deliberate once-over. "Yeah, I do." His words were simple, but they carried a weight that made the air between them feel heavier. There was history here, old but not forgotten, and though Ashen played it cool, Voss didn't miss the way his ears twitched, how his chest rose just a little sharper on the inhale. Or the way he shifted, subtly on his bed, his shorts suddenly a little tighter than before. Voss's smirk deepened. Ashen's tail flicked again, but this time, there was an edge to it, like he was trying to shake off the heat creeping through his body. His cock wasn't fully hard yet, but the outline was starting to press against the fabric, unmistakable even in the dim lighting. He exhaled through his nose, like he could will it away, like he could pretend Voss wouldn't notice. But Voss noticed everything.

For a moment, the silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken tension. The weight of what could have been. The weight of what still might be. But Voss wasn't one for lingering. He had always been good at moving on, at keeping things light, and this was no different.

"Well," Voss said, breaking the silence with a casual shrug, "it was good seeing you, Ash. Maybe we'll catch up later." He winked, his smirk still firmly in place. As he turned away, he caught the way Ashen adjusted his shorts again--and that alone was enough to leave the smirk on his lips.

Ashen's eyes followed him, the faintest hint of something like disappointment flickering across his face. But he smiled, masking it well. "Yeah. Maybe."

Voss left the room with a satisfied grin, knowing full well the effect he had left in his wake. As he continued down the corridor, the faint sound of the girls' giggling still echoing in the distance, he couldn't help but feel the familiar thrill of being desired, of being watched. It was a feeling he never got tired of.

The showers stood quiet as Voss stepped into the open communal space. The air was thick, humid, clinging to his fur, the lingering heat from earlier use still hanging in the tiles. A slow drip echoed from one of the heads, the faint patter breaking the stillness, but otherwise, the place was empty. Just as he wanted. He moved toward the nearest shower, rolling his shoulders, stretching out the lingering tension from the long hours in dress uniform. Standing at attention, shaking hands, listening to people talk about his father instead of him--it had left a weight pressing against his skull, a dull ache coiled between his shoulder blades. He reached up, tapping the control panel, and the shower sprang to life. Warm water cascaded over him, soaking into his fur, and for a moment, Voss let his head tip back, letting the spray pound against his shoulders, easing some of the tightness that had knotted through him all day. It worked to relax his muscles, but the weight in his mind clung on stubbornly.

Your father must be proud.

The CO's words still echoed, as if assuming his father's pride was inevitable--just another mark on Voss's record that wasn't truly his own. That comment was supposed to be a compliment, yet it lingered in his head, barbed with the reminder that no matter what he did, he was still just the admiral's son. His jaw clenched, his shoulders tensing again despite the water's warmth. It was always like this. At The Academy, in the field, here on Horizon Station--every achievement cast in his father's shadow. His own work, his own sweat and merit, reduced to a footnote in the admiral's story.

Proud of what? he thought bitterly. That I'm here, walking his path? Living in his shadow? It wasn't just anger. It was a constant frustration, one that had gnawed at him since he could remember. Top of his class, countless commendations, yet everyone saw only the admiral's influence. As if everything he'd accomplished had been laid out for him in advance. His paws clenched, fingers flexing under the spray as he forced himself to let go, to shake off the thought. But the resentment stuck, a stubborn ache beneath the surface. I'm more than his fucking son.

He'd chosen this path because he was damn good at it, not because he was following orders or family expectations. But did anyone else see that? They looked at him and saw Admiral Voss--a legacy, not a person. They didn't see him. The scent of the station soap was sharp and clean as he scrubbed it through his fur, each swipe meant to strip away not just the day's grime but the endless pressure to measure up, to stand on his own, to show them all he was more than just a legacy. The soap slid down his chest in thin streams, but it didn't carry away the heavy frustration lodged inside him. How many times do I have to prove myself?

He let the water rinse away the soap, the spray soothing his body if not his mind. Every accomplishment, every hard-won respect felt tainted by his father's shadow, as if his entire career was a foregone conclusion. But he'd keep at it, keep pushing, keep proving. I'm not just his fucking son. I'm Kaelan Voss. And I'll make sure they remember that name.

The steady spray of water pounded against Voss's broad shoulders, warm and constant, the only sound in the empty shower room. His hands moved slowly over his chest, scrubbing away the day's grime, but his thoughts had long since wandered. His mind kept drifting back to the MedBay, to that sharp-eyed fox and his biting words.

Drayton.

The name sat in his mind like a spark, flickering with a low heat that had only grown hotter the more he thought about it. Drayton had stood there, cold and professional, throwing barbs about hygiene as if he were immune to everything. But Voss had seen through it. Beneath the sharp remarks, there had been something more--something that Drayton hadn't been able to hide. He could still hear Drayton's voice, that razor-edged comment about hygiene, about brothels--so deliberate. But Voss had seen the way Drayton's eyes had flicked down, had noticed the slight shift in the fox's scent. It had been subtle, but it had been there. Curiosity. Interest.

You were watching, Voss thought, a slow smirk pulling at his lips as his hand drifted lower, lingering on his abdomen. His cock twitched beneath the warm spray, thickening in his sheath at the memory of Drayton's amber eyes flicking over him, just a little too long to be casual. Even if you won't admit it, you wanted to see. Voss's hand slid down to his sheath, his fingers tracing the edge of it as his cock swelled in response to the thoughts flooding his mind. He could picture it so clearly now--Drayton standing there, trying to hold onto that sharp professionalism, but faltering the moment Voss got too close.

His hold tightened around his sheath as he gripped the base and pulled, coaxing his cock free, the length firming up in his paw. He let out a slow breath, rolling his hips into his touch, feeling the weight and the pulse of need thrum through him. His fingers slid along the swelling shaft, tracing the ridges, smearing the first beads of slickness as he began to stroke, slow and deliberate. He wasn't rushing this--no, he wanted to enjoy it. To relish every detail. To lose himself in the fantasy taking shape.

In his mind, Drayton was backed up against the cold, sterile walls of the MedBay, his sharp amber eyes wide with a mixture of defiance and something more--something he hadn't yet come to terms with. Voss moved closer, his large frame towering over the smaller fox, his presence overwhelming. Drayton would try to hold onto that icy composure, but Voss could see the cracks forming, could sense the way Drayton's body betrayed him.

You don't know what you want yet, but I'll show you, Voss thought, his hand moving slowly along his thickening shaft. With a flick of his paw, he reached for the control panel, pressing a button to shut off the water with a muted beep, the stream cutting out instantly. The room fell silent except for the soft sound of his own breathing, the low slick of his strokes. The heat clung to his damp fur, the steam curling lazily around him as his cock emerged fully from its sheath, heavy and thick, every stroke deliberate and measured. The weight of his own need, the pressure coiling deep in his gut--it all amplified the sensation as he worked himself, savoring every slow pull of his paw.

He imagined pinning Drayton to the wall, pressing him in tight, forcing the smaller fox to feel just how much bigger, stronger he was. His hands would grip Drayton's waist, dragging him closer, his broad chest flush against the fox's trembling back. Drayton's breath would hitch--a sharp, involuntary intake, his body betraying the tension simmering beneath his skin. Voss wouldn't rush. No, he'd take his time. He'd savor the tremor in Drayton's frame, the way his tail flicked nervously, the stiff set of his shoulders as he tried--so fucking hard--to pretend he wasn't getting hard himself.

You wouldn't fight it for long, Voss thought, his smirk widening as his grip tightened around his cock. His strokes grew firmer, slower, teasing himself the same way he'd tease Drayton--pawing his arse, kneading the firm muscle, dragging his claws down the fox's sides just to feel him shudder. He wouldn't force him. That wasn't the game. This wasn't about breaking Drayton. This was about making him admit the truth. Because Voss had seen the way he looked at him. He'd caught the stolen glances, the flicker of interest that Drayton shoved down beneath layers of discipline and professionalism. Voss would tear through that.

He'd start slow--just his paws at first, sliding lower, exploring, tracing the fox's trim frame, feeling the heat radiating off him. Drayton would resist. Grit his teeth. Cling to the last shreds of self-control like they'd save him. But his body would betray him. Voss could see it so vividly--the way Drayton's sheath would swell against his thigh, the way he'd squirm just a little, breath catching as Voss's fingers brushed over him. You'd melt in my paws.

Voss groaned, his paw tightening, pumping his cock in slow, deliberate strokes, precum smearing across his fingers. Drayton would shudder, hips jerking forward despite himself, a strangled noise catching in his throat as Voss gripped him, stroked him, coaxed those soft, bitten-off moans free. He'd fight it, but his body would give him away--his tail flicking high, his thighs parting just enough, his cock pulsing in Voss's paw.

I wouldn't rush, Voss thought, his pace steady, teasing, drawing himself to the edge just like he would Drayton. He could picture it perfectly--the moment he'd shove him against the wall, grind his leaking cock against the twitching rim of his tight little hole, feeling every nervous clench as Drayton tried--and failed--to keep himself from opening up. Drayton would be panting now, shaking, torn between resistance and the aching need to feel more. You'd beg for it. Voss gritted his teeth, his strokes tightening, precum dripping down his knuckles as his knot swelled. He imagined lining up, dragging the thick head against Drayton's little fox puck, feeling the way he trembled, the tiny, breathless sound he'd make as Voss teased him, just the tapered tip pushing in. You'd feel every fucking centimetre.

Voss wouldn't shove in all at once--where was the fun in that? No, he'd make Drayton feel it. The slow, agonizing stretch as the pink tip pushed inside, prying him open bit by bit, the fox's entire body tightening, trying to adjust, trying to take him. Drayton would let out one of those sharp, desperate little moans--the kind he'd hate himself for. He'd be panting, shaking, torn between resistance and the aching, overwhelming need to be filled. And then, when he was fully seated inside him, when Drayton was whimpering against the wall, stretched open and trembling, Voss would lean in close, lips just brushing the soft fur of his ear, and whisper: I feel you squeezing me, Drayton--like your pretty little fox hole doesn't want to let me go.

And then the knot.

Voss snarled, his strokes turning rough, almost punishing, his actual knot swelling thick and tight in his grip. His whole body was tensed, fur damp with sweat and steam, his balls pulled up, heavy, aching, so fucking close. He imagined Drayton gasping, back arching, claws scraping at the wall, his tail flicking helplessly as the thick swell of Voss's knot ground against his stretched hole. The fox would be trembling, panting, wrecked, his cock twitching, untouched, drooling pre onto the floor beneath him. His sharp little gasps would break into choked, breathless whimpers, his body struggling to take it, to adjust, to handle the sheer size of the wolf stretching him wide. Voss could see it so clearly--the way Drayton's entire frame would shake against him, clenching down so tight, fighting the inevitable even as his hole fluttered open, desperate to be filled.

I'd have you cock-drunk and begging for more, bred so full you'd never get the scent out of your fur.

The thought sent a fresh pulse of heat down his spine, knot swelling even tighter, the pressure unbearable. His grip tightened, rough, relentless. His strokes blurred into desperate friction. His whole body locked up, every muscle seizing as the coil snapped-- Voss snarled deep in his throat as his orgasm hit, raw and overpowering. Thick ropes of cum shot across the tiles, splattering messily against the floor in heavy, milky pools. His cock throbbed hard in his grip, pulsing in deep, rhythmic waves, each fresh spurt adding to the mess beneath him, spreading in slow, viscous streams across the smooth surface. His balls ached as they emptied, every throb wringing out more, the heat of his load clinging to his fur, smearing against his own thighs. He groaned through clenched teeth, his hips jerking involuntarily, chasing the last tremors of pleasure, knot still painfully swollen. The scent of it thickened the air, heavy, unmistakable--wolf cum, hot and virile, saturating the humid space.

Voss exhaled roughly, staring down at the absolute mess he'd made. Thick puddles of cum sprawled between his feet, long strands still dripping from his cock, stretching from his tip to the floor in milky ropes before pooling in obscene, glossy streaks. His knot throbbed in slow, pulsing waves, sending lazy aftershocks through his entire body, his balls still giving a faint, automatic clench, forcing out more.

Voss licked his lips, his smirk widening as he reached down, swiping two fingers through the thick, cummy mess smeared across his tip. The warmth, the slick weight of it--gods, he'd really fucking coated that floor. Bringing his fingers to his muzzle, he dragged his tongue over them, tasting himself, relishing the heady saltiness of his own cum. Rich, potent--pure fucking wolf. His cock gave a slow, satisfied pulse, another lazy bead welling at his slit, stretching, clinging to his fur before finally breaking and adding to the obscene puddle at his feet. Voss hummed, licking his lips, savoring. Fuck, he tasted good.

Still throbbing and leaking, still rock fucking hard, he stretched lazily, rolling his shoulders, every movement pulling a fresh pulse from his still-engorged cock.

His knot wasn't going anywhere. Not when his body still thought it had him tied deep inside some tight, needy hole, locking him in place, pumping it full of his pups, knocking up some lucky bitch or bastard who'd just gotten bred by a wolf. Even now, his cock gave another slow throb, another lazy flex, like it wasn't done claiming its mate, his balls giving another clench like they weren't quite convinced their job was done. His whole body kept thrusting into nothing, rutting uselessly at the air, refusing to believe there wasn't someone there, milking his knot, squeezing every last drop from him.

With a satisfied grunt, he stepped away from the mess, dragging a slick, sticky snail-trail of cum across the tiles as he moved to another shower head. Strands stretched and snapped between his legs with each step, his tip still oozing, leaving a glistening, obscene pattern in his wake. Fuck yeah.

Voss sighed, dragging a paw through his damp fur as he finally rinsed off beneath the second spray, leaving the first behind--still streaked, still puddled with everything he'd spent. Even as he scrubbed his chest, his stomach, his thighs, the fox's sharp, biting voice cut through the haze of satisfaction, crisp as ever.

"The Academy's standards have lowered since personal hygiene seems to be optional now."

Voss's ears flicked. Then he scrubbed himself even harder, making sure every centimetre of his fur was clean--scrubbing away the scent of bear arse, of wolf spunk, of anything that might make that uptight medical officer frown like Voss had personally dragged filth into his pristine, orderly world.

Not this time.

You won't have anything to complain about now, Drayton.

The smirk never left his face as he grabbed a towel, slinging it loosely around his neck and stepped into the adjacent dressing area. His body was spent, but his knot hadn't gotten the memo. Still heavy, still swollen, still throbbing in slow, stubborn pulses, keeping his cock from fully retreating into his sheath. The pink tip hung low--slick, spent, but not fully finished. Even as he dried off, another warm bead welled at his tip, stretching, clinging, dripping, He stepped away, barely glancing back at the wreckage--the glistening puddles, the slowly drying streaks, the thick scent of sex still clinging to the air like it had been bred into the walls. There was no point in hiding what he had, and he wore it with pride. His body was a testament to years of discipline and hard work, and he wasn't shy about it. As he toweled off, the sound of footsteps echoed through the tiled room, slow and deliberate, with a heavy thud that signaled someone familiar.

Voss's smirk widened. He already knew who it was.

Kade Lucero. The lion had a presence that couldn't be ignored, and Voss had become accustomed to the way Kade moved--confident, sure of himself, but always with that underlying tension. As much as Kade tried to hide it, Voss knew that the lion had a chip on his shoulder. The kind of chip that came from years of quiet competition, and the subtle gnaw of resentment that lingered beneath the surface of their interactions.

Kade stepped into the shower room, his golden fur damp from sweat, his tall, muscular frame filling the space with that same self-assured presence he always carried. Built like a damn war machine--broad shoulders, thick chest, powerful arms, every muscle defined with the kind of discipline that made him a force to be reckoned with. He was strong, fast, disciplined, the kind of soldier who never slacked, never cut corners.

And yet. Voss's smirk deepened as his eyes dragged down, taking in every detail. Kade was impressive, sure--his body was carved from effort, from years of rigorous training. But even at his best, even standing there all flexed and imposing, he'd never match Voss. Not in raw presence. Not in reputation. His smirk widened as his eyes dragged lower, drinking in the details. Kade wasn't lacking, not by any means. His sheath was thick, his cock undoubtedly respectable for a lion, the barbs just barely peeking out, a telltale hint of arousal. Enough to make most feel self-conscious standing next to him. Most.

Voss wasn't most. The difference was impossible to ignore. Voss's heavy sheath, his still-throbbing cock, the obscene swell of his knot--still fat, still thick, still hanging low between his powerful thighs. And Kade saw it. Voss didn't miss that flicker of a glance, the way Kade's eyes dropped, took in the comparison, processed it. Yeah. That's right.

Voss stretched slightly, exaggerating it just enough, letting another slow drip of cum spill onto the tile. Kade's jaw tensed. His expression barely shifted, but Voss saw it. Felt it. Smelled it.

"Typical," Kade muttered, his voice carrying that familiar edge of disapproval. His eyes darted back up to meet Voss's, but not before taking in the steady drip of his rival's seed on the tiled floor. "You leave a trail of yourself wherever you go, don't you?"

Voss chuckled, his sharp teeth catching the light as he casually wiped his chest with the towel. "Just making sure everyone knows I've been here."

The lion's nostrils flared slightly, and though he kept his expression neutral, there was something in the way his eyes narrowed--something sharp and tense, like he was holding back. Voss could sense it. Kade had always been the more restrained of the two, always carrying himself with that air of self-control. But beneath it, a flicker of irritation. A flicker of something else. Kade stepped toward the control panel for the nearest shower, but just as he was about to reach it--

Squelch.

His paw landed dead in the mess. A wet, obscene sound echoed through the tiled room, sharp and unmistakable.

It was warm.

It was thick.

It was seeping between his toes.

Kade froze mid-step, a strangled noise catching in his throat, ears pinning flat as raw disgust slammed into him.

Then his foot slid.

His stance split, legs spreading wide in a desperate attempt to stay upright, his thighs flexing hard, muscles straining, everything tightening as he fought against the betrayal of traction. His claws scraped against the tile, slipping, struggling--his groin pulling tight with the sudden, precarious stretch.

"Fucking--!"

But the damage was done. His paw slid deeper into the slick puddle, cum squeezing up between his pads, coating his fur, the sticky warmth clinging, refusing to let go. Kade jerked his foot up like he'd been burned, but it only made things worse. Strands stretched. Thick, ropy, clinging like webbing between his toes, stubbornly holding as he fought to shake it free.

His breath hitched--sharp, horrified, seething as he stared at his foot, at the globs of warm wolf seed still stringing between his pads, refusing to fucking detach.

"Oh, fuck no." His voice was low, ragged, pure revulsion.

He shook his paw violently, trying to dislodge the thick, sticky mess--but all it did was smear it in deeper, slicking through the fur, matting, sinking in. Voss couldn't hold back anymore. He let out a sharp, barked laugh, his whole chest shaking, teeth flashing.

"Watch your step, Lucero," he drawled, eyes gleaming as he watched Kade's whole body shudder.

Kade let out a noise--a cross between a growl and a gag--before slamming his paw onto the nearest towel, grinding it in, rubbing with the force of someone trying to scrub off a crime scene. "Fucking disgusting," he snarled, voice dark, furious, like Voss had personally jizzed on his soul.

"Careful. Wouldn't want you to slip again."

Kade snapped his glare up, sharp as a blade, but Voss just leaned back against the wall--completely unbothered, completely smug. He could wipe all he wanted. Didn't change the fact that he'd stepped in it. That he'd felt it. That he'd smelled it. And they both knew it. Kade kept rubbing furiously, his expression twisted in pure revulsion, but Voss only grinned wider. "Better make sure you get it all," he said, lazily flicking an ear. "Wolf jizz is tenacious as fuck. You don't scrub deep, you'll be smelling my pups for days."

Kade froze mid-wipe.

For just a second.

Then doubled down.

Grinding his paw into the towel like his life depended on it, like he could erase the sheer reality of warm wolf cum seeping between his pads, clinging to his fur. Voss let his eyes drag lazily over Kade's stiff frame, his still-tense thighs, his ears pinned so flat they might never perk again.

"What's wrong, Lucero - I mean, besides the obvious. You seem wound up pretty tight tonight," he mused, tone light, amused, almost sympathetic. "Rough day?"

Kade's eyes flicked toward him, the briefest flash of something defensive in his gaze before he schooled his expression back into its usual neutral state. "I was fine, Voss, until I ran into you," he replied coolly, but the tension was still there, thick beneath the surface.

Voss's smirk deepened, eyes gleaming with a knowing look. "Could've fooled me. You look like you're about to snap. Came in here all hot and sweaty, looking like you just ran drills for an hour. Ceremony not go as planned? Had to work off some steam in the gym before bed?"

"I said I'm fine," Kade bit out, but the sharpness in his tone betrayed him. He was always trying to keep that calm, controlled facade in place, but Voss knew better. He saw the cracks. The tight set of his jaw. The way his claws flexed just slightly against the towel.

Voss straightened up, relaxed but unmistakably present. "Come on, Lucero," he drawled, tossing his towel over his shoulder. "No need to act so uptight. We're all friends here."

Kade scoffed. Finally, he turned the water on, stepping beneath the spray, letting it soak into his fur--but the tension between them didn't ease. If anything, it only thickened. "You don't get it, do you?" Kade muttered, voice low but pointed, barely audible over the sound of the water. "Not everyone's riding on the coattails of their family name."

Ah. There it was.

Voss's smirk didn't falter, but something in his posture shifted. Just a fraction. Subtle, but present. "Oh, that's what this is about?" he asked, voice calm but edged. "This old thing again?"

Kade didn't answer immediately. Just stood there under the water, muscles taut, his mane darkening under the steady spray. The silence was long and heavy--until, finally, he spoke, frustration threading through every syllable "Some of us have to work twice as hard to get half as far." He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you? Chatting up the CO like you're best mates. What is he--a friend of your father's? Or just trying to stay on his good side by getting chummy with his son?"

Voss's smirk returned, but it was colder now. Sharper. "I've worked just as hard as anyone else, Lucero. You think they just hand out top marks at The Academy because of my last name? His voice was smooth, edged with challenge. "I ran every drill, took every test, completed every assignment--same as you." He stepped closer, his confidence unwavering, icy-blue eyes locking onto Kade's. "If you're pissed you didn't finish first, that's not my problem. That's on you."

Kade's jaw clenched. His eyes flashed, dark and stormy, but he didn't fire back.

The silence was thick. Charged.

Voss never backed down. "Face it," he said, voice low, sure, curling with satisfaction. "You're pissed because you know I've got the edge. Always have."

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the air between them tense and almost crackling with the unspoken competition. But then, Kade let out a slow breath, shaking his head as if trying to brush off the weight of the moment. "You're a cocky bastard," Kade muttered, but there was a grudging hint of admiration in his tone, as if he couldn't help but acknowledge Voss's brazenness, even if it annoyed him.

Voss grinned, his sharp teeth gleaming in the light. "And don't you forget it."

Kade turned back to the water, his expression unreadable as he let the spray cascade over him, but the tension between them didn't fully dissipate. It lingered, quiet but present, like a storm waiting to break. Voss watched him for a moment longer before turning away, still smirking to himself as he walked out of the shower. He knew this wasn't the end of it--not by a long shot. The rivalry between them was too deep, too ingrained to disappear with a few sharp words. But for now, Voss was content with the subtle victory. After all, he always came out on top.

Voss stretched out languidly as he made his way back to the bunks. His muscles felt loose, his mind clearer after the shower. The banter with Lucero still lingered in his thoughts, a small grin tugging at his lips as he considered the lion's obvious irritation. That was something Voss had learned to use to his advantage--riling up his rivals just enough to keep them off-balance. Lucero's annoyance had been satisfying.

The ensign made his way back to their shared quarters, running a paw through his still-damp fur, his stride easy, loose. His body was spent, his sheath finally drawing back, knot softened, balls hanging heavy and relaxed after unloading everything he had in the showers. Still, a lazy smirk tugged at his lips as he reached the door. He stepped inside, eyes flicking to Kade's empty bunk, shaking his head with a quiet huff of amusement.

That poor bastard was probably still back there scrubbing his paw raw, trying to get the last traces of wolf spunk out from between his toes. Voss could just picture it--Kade's jaw clenched, his lips curled in disgust, his tail lashing as he furiously scoured his fur, cursing every second of it. And yet, no matter how hard he scrubbed, he'd probably still catch the faintest whiff of it later--some stubborn trace clinging to his pads, lurking in the air, a reminder that no matter how much he fumed about it, Kade Lucero had stepped right into Voss's cummy mess.

Voss chuckled, tail flicking as he turned away. The towel slid from his shoulders, landing in a careless heap atop his locker as he climbed into his bunk. Naked, sprawled out, his furry balls settling warm and heavy against the sheets, Voss let out a slow, contented breath. His paw drifted down, idly rolling his sheath, adjusting, giving his cock a lazy shift, his balls a slow, absent scratch as he got comfortable. They shifted under his touch, loose, soft, still carrying the lingering warmth of the shower, still settling from the load he'd emptied. He gave them a gentle roll, a slow squeeze--just feeling the heft, the weight, the easy satisfaction of being spent.

Fuck. He'd needed that.

The tension from the night had unraveled, leaving nothing but the pleasant hum of satisfaction in his limbs. His sheath twitched once in his grip, a slow, idle pulse of contentment before he finally let go, stretching out one last time before settling in. The room was dim, quiet, the steady hum of the station a familiar undercurrent. His muscles eased, his fur still carrying the lingering warmth of the shower, of his own satisfaction. His smirk lingered as he sprawled back, completely at ease, pleased that his first day at Horizon Station had been so damn memorable.

As sleep crept in, he chuckled one last time. Kade could scrub all he wanted.

Voss had marked his territory. And that was all that mattered.