Granola Bar: Drabbles

AN: Just some drabbles of Ty and Spirit. If you want their main story, check out my gallery and it's titled "Granola Bar". I'll add more drabbles as I write them.

A drabble = really short piece of writing.


Ty sat on his porch, booted feet perched up against the railing in front of him as he reclined in his handmade rocking chair. It was a little rickety, and it squeaked each time he pushed backwards, but it served his purpose. It was comfortable and smooth, and as he trailed his fingertips over the handles, the wood felt like silk against his skin.

Insects made the thick heat of the afternoon feel thicker, their unending buzzing making Ty's skin prickle with the vibrations. He sighed languidly and stretched his hands behind his head, smiling a little and feeling the sweat drip down his temples. So far, it was the hottest day this week, making him perspire and his skin glisten in the harsh yellow sunlight.

But he liked this heat. The feeling of his body wet and slick as it strove to cool itself in the weak breeze was refreshing. It was like a cleansing. True he wouldn't be getting any work done outside today, for the risk of dehydration, regardless of how much he drank. There was also the fear of heat-stroke. But, that didn't mean he would he couldn't get some work done inside.

No air conditioning, but thick insulation had kept the coolness from the night before trapped inside his house, and the two oscillating fans he had, made it nice and comfortable.

But...what to do inside? What could there possibly be to do inside away from prying eyes and invasive ears.

What to do.

Right on cue, there was a faint rustling on the far edge of Ty's property. And because of his lack of electronics, his ears were sensitive enough to pick up the soft giggling.

Well, guess the problem of what to do today was solved.

Ty started rocking his chair, his feet gently propelling him backwards and gravity pulling him forwards again. Back and forth, with the soft rhythmic squeaks of protesting wood. How...suggestive.

Almost like the wooden creaks of Ty's bed when it was being pushed to it's limit.

It was hard, but Ty managed to keep himself from smirking as he caught a peek of pointed brown ears with white tips through the long grass by the trees. And the not-so-hidden swish of a playful tail identical in color.

Ty kept his rocking even, but he cleared his throat in a cough, watching intently as those slightly visible body parts suddenly disappeared, the culprit ducking to the concealment of the ground. There was no sound for a moment, and Ty strained his ears over the distraction of the chair.

A soft, trying-to-be-silent snicker.

Then those ears were visible again, and they resumed their furtive movements through the grass, weaving back and forth and making it shiver as that lithe body brushed past.

Ty sighed again, a different look in his eye. More intent. Stretching once more, movements deliberately broad, he reached down to his pants and undid the top button of his pants, unzipping them halfway and then slouching down nonchalantly, the loosened fabric helping him get more comfortable. He was the picture of lazy indulgence, a sleepy smile and half-lidded eyes. There were forming drops of sweat on his newly exposed stomach, mixing with the dark trail of hair leading into his groin, and he ran his fingers through it, scratching lightly.

The giggles drew nearer, sounding stifled, like there was a hand covering a mouth in attempt to quiet one's self. Those ears were zig-zagging to the right of Ty's porch, still making sneaky lines in the grass and drawing closer. At the end of the grass, where there was a long stretch of open ground between the long grass and the porch, the vague dark shape of a small kitsune was visible.

Ty chose that moment to conveniently turn his head to the side, glancing to the left. As soon as his head was turned away, he heard a quick rustle of scampering limbs closer to the porch.

Spirit was not a very adept hunter. Thank goodness Ty wasn't skittish prey.

Facing back to his original direction, Ty reached into his pocket and pulled out a granola bar, unwrapping it and making the wrapping crinkle loudly. Without waiting, he took a large bite and chewed with delight, moaning at the taste a little too lustily. The bar surely wasn't that delicious.

But the audience was.

As he chewed, the granola bar he held deceptively innocent in his lap, pointing up, an unmistakable phallic symbol. Anyone who might be looking at the bar would inevitably have their gaze drawn to the slight bulge in Ty's tight camouflage pants.

Two white-tipped ears rose up in Ty's peripheral vision, followed shortly by wide interested eyes. Eyes that stared at the granola bar held in Ty's lap.

Though it was only a short moment before there was a soft gasp of surprise and a noticeable lifting of that head. Ty could see Spirit staring not at the bar, but at him now. Then, when Ty stretched up his arms and groaned deeply for effect as his muscles expanded, Spirit ducked back down, trying to stay hidden.

Though Ty caught a sly peek of hazel eyes at his exposed stomach.

He took another bite of his bar, sighing as he chewed and all the while, Spirit kept peeking up at him covertly.

As Ty finished his bar, there was another sound from the side of his porch. A soft needy whine.

That was enough teasing then.

Ty stood, crunching the wrapper in his palm and stuffing it in his pocket as he walked inside his house.

The front door he left open behind him, and as he sauntered towards his bedroom, he could hear the soft clacking of clawed feet trying to be quiet as they crept up over the wooden planks of the porch.

Ty smirked and licked his lips, pulling his shirt up over his head and knowing it was about to get much hotter.

THE END