Trust in Oneself, CH 44 (Patreon)

Paul vehemently shook his head.

The naked rat, seated opposite him in the main cabin, covered up his smile as Niel leaned forward. “Come on. You can tell us. What was it like to be in bed with a Champion?”

Paul glared at the naked raccoon. He was not getting him to talk.

“Can’t have been that great,” Trevor said offhandedly from behind the hand.

“It was that great,” Paul blurted. “Grant’s a good lover and that didn’t change just because he’s a champion.” He glared at Niel. “No capital ‘c’. It’s just a job, as far as he’s concerned. And one he’d happily quit, but he’s stuck with it, and if you two were curious about sex with him, you could have approached him and asked. It’s not like he’s too good for the likes of us not.”

He snapped his muzzle shut and glared at the rat.

“And you said that on purpose because you knew I wouldn’t be able to keep from defending him, asshole. Do you know what it’s like not being about to shut up the instant I open my mouth? Of course you do. You’ve been fucked by him too, so why did you do that to me?”

“Fucked by who?” the naked tiger entering the cabin from the cockpit asked.

“Oh, don’t fucking play innocent, Adam. You know damned well who I’m talking about. If you were pissed I took the bus, you could just have screamed at me. I’m an adult. I can take it. This, this is childish torture! There’s got to be a law against doing this to someone.” Paul crossed his arms and sulked. “Not that you people give a damn about laws.”

“Pissed?” Adam tilted an ear. “Cus, you have no idea what I’m like when I’m pissed. Don’t think that because we’re family, you’re going to be spared me being pissed at you if you screw with me. The bus ride got me angry, nothing more. And it wouldn’t have happened if my brother wasn’t terrified you’d learn some secret while at the office and my gift meant you told the whole damned world. I gave you my gift because it was fucking time you got it and knew how to drive worth a damn.”

“I know how to drive!” Paul stood. “My mom taught me! I have never gotten into one accident before being run off that bridge. And you fucking ordered me not to drive. What did you think I’d do, walk to Minneapolis?”

Adam smirked, and Paul threw his hands up. “And you’re riling me on purpose. I swear, I’m surrounded by assholes.” He dropped in his seat, and found himself with a naked racoon on his lap, stroking Paul’s stiffening cock.

“I’m sorry.” Niel’s pout was comical. “Is there anything I can do so you’ll forgive me?”

That almost got Paul to open his mouth again, and Niel’s triumphant expression turned into disappointment. 

Enough was enough.

Paul grabbed the raccoon and threw him over the back of the seat. Then he shoved his cock into Niel’s well lubed ass. He moaned for the two thrusts he made uninterrupted, then gasp as a cock pushed into his well lubed ass. He tried to glare at the smirking tiger fucking him, but the hard thrust had Paul’s eyes roll back. He eyed the rat, who was still seated, stroking his erection.

“I plan on living,” Trevor stated. “I’m not getting my cock anywhere next to that stripped ass. Don’t worry.” The rat smirked. “Once he’s done, I’ll take over and fuck you the rest of the way.”

And, of course, Paul opened his mouth to tell him exactly with he could do with that smirk, and he couldn’t shut up for the rest of the fucking flight.

* * * * *

“It’s your fault,” Paul told the tiger seated at the desk as he stormed into Arnold’s office. “Why did you let Adam be on that jet? Do you have any idea what he did to me? I can’t shut up anymore. And then Niel and Trevor just couldn’t stop getting me to talk. Even with a cock in my mouth, I kept on talking. Do you know how disturbing it is to be talking when a cock’s going in and out of your mouth? No, of course you don’t. You’d bite it off if anyone tried.”

“It’s his jet, officially,” Arnold replied calmly. “So I have to be careful when I’m going to fight him over getting on one.”

Paul didn’t know how Arnold could ignore the insults he’d thrown at him with the tone he’d used. He’d seen the tiger punch Aaron for just the hint of accusation in his tone. And the way Paul felt, with a fraction of Arnold’s temper as part of his gift, if someone had spoken to him in that tone, he’d have bitten their heads off, possibly literally.

Arnold leveled his gaze at him. “You aren’t that important, Paul.” The tiger also ignored Paul’s glare at that comment. “But you are important enough I thought you deserved an update on what’s happened while you were in the air. And when you have your mouth under control, I’m going to want an explanation as to why the teleporter didn’t bring you back. You’re his best friend, aren’t you?”

“His name’s Thomas. It won’t fucking kill you to use it and treat him like a person, instead of a vehicle you want to own. You—” Paul swallowed hard at the look Arnold gave him. Now he knew how the tiger could have ignored his previous glaring. Those hadn’t been glares, they’d been reproachful looks, at best. What Paul was on the receiving end of? That was a glare.

“Thomas,” Arnold said, slowly enunciating the name, “needs to decide where his allegiances are, now that he’s no longer busy ferrying that kangaroo around.”

Paul snorted. Not with you, that was for sure. He nodded under that look.

“Did you see the news?”

Paul raised an eyebrow, trying to determine if his cousin was serious. Hadn’t they established who had been on the jet? He pointed to his crotch and made a fucking gesture, narrowing his eyes at Arnold.

“You’re going to have to learn to multitask.” He tapped commands on the desk, and behind him, part of the wall became a screen. Paul recognized the Diamond Collider.

A distinguished sheep dog announcer spoke. “In the wake of what has been referred to as the Diamond Incident, when a group of then unidentified people took it over, turned on and… well, what exactly they did with it is still being debated. The scientists have gone over the reading taken by the automated systems, and one of them had this to say.”

A haggard fox in a lab coat replaced the sheep dog. “They broke reality.” By the time Paul registered the disbelief in the tone, the announcer was back.

“Linked to that, if only by that comment, are two incidents being investigated, both occurring in the same location. The first is an electromagnetic burst that disrupted electronics within a two hundred kilometer radius of a mansion in the English countryside. Then, a flash of light that was seen all the way from London, followed by something everyone felt, but even I have no words to describe.”

Paul leveled on Arnold a glare he hoped approached that he’d received. If he was going to hold him responsible for that, his cousin was going to find out Paul had limits, too.

“That’s not on you,” the seated tiger said. “You weren’t there to keep stuff like that from happening. Your job was to make your family look good.” Arnold smiled. “Which you did.” The smile fell away as he tapped the desk and the screen switch to showing a large meeting room with a kangaroo seated at a table, whittling wood into something Paul couldn’t identify, while official looking men and women seated on the other side screamed at him.

“Him is who I hold responsible,” Arnold said.

The gist of what Paul made of the screaming was that they should lock up Grant for the destruction he’d caused. Grant examined what he’d been working on, and Paul thought it was a small handbell. That was confirmed with the kangaroo took it by the handle and shook it gently. It didn’t emit the expected sound; instead, its silence grew to envelop the people screaming and plunging the scene into an odd, not quite empty silence. As if Paul’s ear told him there was ringing, where there clearly wasn’t.

The screamers took their time realizing no sound left their mouth, then they looked at each other in confusion.

“Here’s the thing,” Grant said, his voice clear. “You keep acting like reality’s immutable. Care to tell me how that’s true?” He waited, smiling. There were attempts at screaming, but no sound came from them, and they settled for glaring.

“Reality is always changing,” the kangaroo said. “It’s in its nature. Now, you’re going to have to figure out what to do about this latest shift, because scream all you want, it’s not going away. In fact, it’s been here longer than you want to know.”

He gently placed the wooden bell on the table. “You accuse me of wanton destruction. Trust me, there was nothing wanton about it. I did what I did because the alternative would have resulted in a shift to your precious reality which, at best, saw you as slaves under someone too full of himself, and, at worse, would have split the planet open.”

The screen went black.

“He outed magic to the world,” Arnold snarled. “You have any the fuck-up that’s going to cause?”

Paul stared. How was he supposed to know that?

Arnold sighed. “After that little demonstration and statement, the cameras were kicked out. So all I have are hints as to what’s going on. Because all that took place on English soil, those who gave up being followers were turned over to the British to prosecute.” Arnold smirked. “Can’t wait to see how that goes. I got reports of Chamber showing up here and there. Some asked for asylum within other factions. You can imagine how they treated the people who were planning on assassinating their gods. Some even offered their service to governments in exchange for protection. We can’t be certain, of course, but it looks like all those were handed over promptly. As much as I hate that what happened resulted in everyone knowing about magic, the upside is that it showed the kind of danger the Chamber represents. For all intents and purposes, they are finished.”

Paul nodded.

Grant hadn’t tile him the details, or even the overall plan, but he’d said a large part of his immediate future would be damage control, and locating anyone trying to screw over his god by keeping the power, but not explicitly agreeing to the rules.

“Why doesn’t your god just take away the power of those he knows don’t want to follow his rules?” Paul had asked.

Grant had sighed tiredly. “Because the bastard wants to see how creative they can get. So long as I’m hunting them down to enforce the decision, he’s holding up his side of the deal and the others are fine with it.”

There had been a sense that Grant wouldn’t get his normal days anytime soon.

“Take a breath,” Arnold said. “Keep your emotions in check. His gift is easier to control if you aren’t excited.”

That was one polite word for how he’d felt since landing in San Francisco Bay. Still, he wanted an actual conversation, so he took a few breaths.

“That’s a lot of information, for ‘just getting a hint’.” He closed his muzzle on the rest that wanted to escape.

Arnold smiled. “Other people in power were sufficiently impressed that us Orrs have learned to ‘play well with others’ that we warranted being kept in the loop.” He sobered. “The kangaroo is pushing to get ownership of all properties the Chamber owned under the guise of bring the official representative of their god. You just know someone’s going to build a lawsuit against one of them any days now.”

“Will the Children who took part go to prison? The bastards really should go. I mean, come on, have you seen what they did? The people they killed? They can’t—” the glare silenced him and he breathed.

“I don’t know. The closest anyone’s gotten to figuring out how to deal with magical criminals is Denton’s little pet project with his fuck buddy at the FBI. As far as I know, they haven’t successfully held anyone of us who was determined to leave. I also don’t think they’re planning on volunteering information. Another show I’d like to see when it happens.”

Arnold silently read. “As for the rest, as it relates to you, someone else requested that he be the one to tell you.”

Paul raised an eyebrow.

“Your father wants to discuss your future with you.”

Paul narrowed his eyes. Was Arnold being funny? Discuss? In his condition?

The tiger smiled. “Well, more like tell you what it’s going to entail. I looked over the plan, and I think you’re going to be okay wit hit, but ultimately…” he looked pained. “It’s your decision.”

What were his cousins planning?

“Anyway. Your car’s in the basement. In your parking lot.”

“My car? You fished it out? How damaged was it? There was the drop, then the water—”

Arnold looked at him, horrified. “You think Adam would let you drive that piece of shit now that you have his gift? Have you met my brother?”

“He fucked me, so yeah, I have met him. And you can tell him that’s never happening again. Not one of you is ever fucking me again. If I’d known what a pain in my ass all of they was going to be, I’d have turned around and walked out the instant I was brought here. You—”

“Tried,” Arnold cut him off.

“What?”

“You would have tried to walk out. You didn’t have our gifts then. You wouldn’t have gotten far. But if you feel this is a punishment, remember you’re an Orr, so take it like us, and not one of them.”

Paul took slow breaths until he had a semblance of control. “Take the cock up my ass, and make someone else pay for it?”

Arnold shrugged. “It’s my understanding you like it, so I’m not sure how much suffering you’d have to pass along. The ignition code is already on your phone.” He tapped the desk and read.

That was a dismissal, if Paul had ever heard one. So he did the Orr thing and kept glaring at his cousin.

“Paul,” Arnold said, not looking up. “This isn’t the horrible situation you imagine it is.”

“All that power, you mean?”

The tiger looked at him. “The good you can do with that power.”

That sounded a lot like a ‘deal with the devil’ kind of situation. But the Orrs weren’t devils, and maybe he could help them be a little better, too. With a curt nod, he left his cousin’s office.

The elevator opened onto the underground parking lot, and Paul had no idea what Arnold had meant by ‘his parking spot’. Then he saw the plaques on the wall before the cars, each one with his cousin’s name, except Adam. He had six spots with his name on them, four of them occupied with a different car.

The last plaque read Paul Heeran Orr.

The car before it was a General-Ford Attribution. Much sportier than anything Paul would have considered buying, but at least it wasn’t the race car that was parked next to it. The door unlocked as he pulled on it, and he sat in, waiting for something to happen. Adam’s gift was all about cars, so why didn’t he fell anything?

He slotted his phone in and pressed the ignition. The engine vibrated, and a shiver ran down his spine. He looked at his crotch and was relieved it wasn’t that kind of reaction Adam’s gift brought. He carefully backed out of the spot and eased to the exit. He merged into traffic, and followed along until he decided everyone was driving too slow, so he picked up a little speed. Then a little more, and a little more ag—

The car cut in front of him, and Paul brought his speed down quickly, but smoothly, changed lanes and picked up speed, giving the other driver the finger as he passed him.

He loved how the car handled.

He smiled. Now, what could he make it do?

* * * * *

He strode through the gym’s entrance, ignoring the jacked cheetah’s protest. This was his father’s gym; Paul wasn’t going to let—

He froze as soon as he pushed the door open and saw the walls of muscle working out.

Maybe the ride over had left him a bit high. He was pretty sure he was in love with the Attribution.

“Paul,” Madoc greeted him. “I’m glad you’re back.”

Paul almost greeted the rat, but settled for waving. He wasn’t risking opening his muzzle in this environment. He pointed to his father’s office, and Madoc nodded, returning to the giraffe he was spotting.

He knocked on the door. He was not barging into that man’s office, father or not.

“Come on.”

Dietrich was making annotations on a tablet. He put it down and smiled. “Paul, it’s good to see you. I’m glad you came out of this intact.”

“My future?” slipped out, and Paul clamped his mouth shut. Now was not the time to be yapping without control.

Dietrich tilted an ear. “You have Adam’s gift?” Paul nodded. “Have you driven yet?”

“Are you kidding? My car’s an Attribution. I was terrified he’d get me a race car, or worse, a muscle car. What would I do with a muscle car? But the Attribution is the perfect balance of speed and handling for city driving.” He stopped. “I’m in love.”

“That’s good. Avoid speeding tickets; we have more important things to do than deal with those.”

“Your business.”

Dietrich didn’t immediately answer. “I had plenty of time to think while you were out there saving the world.” Paul closed his muzzle at the raised eyebrow. “To think beyond what you and me want. The kids—feels weird saying that, now that you’re here. They’re older than you. Arnold and his brothers have been pushing to help the city. Our family’s always done that, but each generation has their way of going about it. They want to be more hands on, but it’s just the seven of them.” 

He handed Paul a water bottle. “Do you know about Arthur?”

Paul nodded. “I read about him.”

“Since his death, the medical industry has been suffering.”

Paul tilted an ear as he drank. San Francisco Bay had the best hospitals in the country.

“So,” Dietrich said, putting his bottle down. “I decided that you are perfect to take over his position.”

“You’re joking, right? That’s not the kind of doctor I am. I’m a biochemist. I know nothing about medicine. I—”

“But you can learn, right?”

Paul stared at the large tiger. “But I just—”

Dietrich smiled.

“That’s going to take—”

Medicine wasn’t a course he’d finished in a couple of years, even with a lot of the undergraduate classes were already covered through his biochem courses.

“Father—”

“Dad, please call me that. I had to refer to Brian as father. It left scars.”

“Dad. There has to be better qualified people who can take over right now.”

“The best people are already in place. They aren’t living up to our standards. You will.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you are my son.”

Paul was an Orr by blood, and that came with responsibilities to the city. He considered refusing. Arnold had said it was his decision, in the end, but he thought about Thomas, who’d sacrificed years to help Grant keep the Chamber at bay. Grant, who sacrificed himself to protect the world. Niel who moved across the country to stay with his boyfriend and somehow managed to stay in football while doubling down on history and a fuck tone of self defense tutors.

Paul’s choice was closer to Niel’s and any real sacrifice. But there was one thing Paul needed to know.

“Are we talking just medical administration, or some kind of actual surgeon?”

And his father beamed.