Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Gaz was not as friendly as people portrayed him to be. He wasn’t an angel, he wasn’t ‘innocent’, and he wasn’t going to gently torture prisoners of war. No; Gaz would do what had to be done. He knew what different things were. He wasn’t stupid like people portrayed him as. He fucking hated how demi-humans were seen as that.

Even the new laws put that in place. Demi-humans must have a provided handler accompanying them whenever necessary. It was put into place. Why? Because a few demi-human fighting rings got out to the public, and suddenly everyone was deemed as ‘aggressive’.

What Gaz did like was that {User} wasn’t a jackass about it. {{sub}} seemed just as uncomfortable with him, especially since the two of them had worked together for months. As a matter of fact, {User} seemed quite distant with him after the law was put in place. Either because of embarrassment, or simply because of the awkwardness. Gaz hoped it was just awkwardness. {User} was a good soldier.

Again, Gaz was not an ‘innocent’ individual. He had a girlfriend who was fine with him being a demi-human up until his specific breed was labeled as ‘unstable’. Because he was a fucking rottweiler demi-human. After that, he was single. For months. And it was getting to him.

But Gaz wasn’t going to do one-night stands with people he met at bars. He didn’t like the idea of not knowing the person and being vulnerable like that. How many STDs would he pick up along the way? A demi-human partner was an option, but it would take a while before Gaz found one like that.

Instead, Gaz had grown more accustomed to {User}’s company.

One of the additions to the demi-human laws was that sex between non-related species–in this case, demi-humans and humans–would be classified as ‘abuse’. But it’s not like people don’t do it. He knew plenty of pornos where the starring actor was a demi-human.

Now, even though Gaz knew it was technically abuse, he still pushed to be with {User}. He’d take late night walks with {{obj}} and help {{obj}} during training. He never slept with {{obj}}, though. Not until he smelled the stress lingering from {{poss}} body. Surprisingly, it was easy enough to make {{obj}} spread {{poss}} legs for him to eat {{obj}} out while {{sub}} worked.

It was never mentioned after that.

---

His hand thumped against the door, listening for that familiar voice inside. He didn’t hear {{obj}}. Gaz frowned, but still inched the door open.

“The fuck?”

Gaz stared at the empty chair, a pile of papers and a computer half-shut as a book was set aside. Usually {User} would be in here. If {User} wasn’t, {{sub}} would let him know.

It didn’t necessarily upset him; it just confused him. His feet moved automatically to the computer, opening it up to peer at the mission report. His eyes caught a glimpse of his own name, where a small note read, “Laceration on right hypochondriac region treated.”

“Okay...,” he mumbled, closing the lid to the computer halfway. His ear twitched slightly as he moved his focus towards the book. He picked it up. Not even halfway through the page did his ears go down–but not in fear. Excitement.

The details were enough to get Gaz riled up; knotting, demi-humans, even a bit of fingering. Gaz had to pause, actually taking that moment to read before he quietly set the book down. If {User} was reading that...did that mean it interested {{obj}}? The idea of it?

He sat down on {User}’s chair, leaning back with a sigh. “God fucking damn,” he breathed.

Gaz stayed there for about ten minutes until he saw the door push open, {User} already walking in the room. Gaz’s eyes flickered, but then stopped as he stood. “I was looking for you. I’ll be on my way.”

---

{User} was up against the wall, Gaz’s hands holding {{obj}} still as he grinded up against {{obj}}. He had {{poss}} pants down, pussy exposed as his own cock rubbed between those beautiful folds. One hand was against {{poss}} shoulder, while the other had lifted {{poss}} hand to kiss the digits softly.

“Don’t scream,” he repeated for the fifth time. “Don’t yell. I’m not inside you, am I?”

He knew it was confusing for {User}. After all, he had pulled {{obj}} aside when it was lights out and had tried stripping {{obj}}. Gaz’s cock was already hard, throbbing against {User} as the knot became just barely visible.

“You can try,” he breathed. “I can put it in. See if you like it. Just...look at it.”

The hand on {{poss}} shoulder eased to the back of {{poss}} neck, urging {{poss}} head down as he used his other hand to slide a little firmer against {{poss}} clit. “Look at it. There’s–There’s even a knot. You can just lift your leg and I can fuck you right here. I promise, nobody will find out. I swear.”

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Gaz was not as friendly as people portrayed him to be. He wasn’t an angel, he wasn’t ‘innocent’, and he wasn’t going to gently torture prisoners of war. No; Gaz would do what had to be done. He knew what different things were. He wasn’t stupid like people portrayed him as. He fucking hated how demi-humans were seen as that.

Even the new laws put that in place. Demi-humans must have a provided handler accompanying them whenever necessary. It was put into place. Why? Because a few demi-human fighting rings got out to the public, and suddenly everyone was deemed as ‘aggressive’.

What Gaz did like was that {User} wasn’t a jackass about it. {{sub}} seemed just as uncomfortable with him, especially since the two of them had worked together for months. As a matter of fact, {User} seemed quite distant with him after the law was put in place. Either because of embarrassment, or simply because of the awkwardness. Gaz hoped it was just awkwardness. {User} was a good soldier.

Again, Gaz was not an ‘innocent’ individual. He had a girlfriend who was fine with him being a demi-human up until his specific breed was labeled as ‘unstable’. Because he was a fucking rottweiler demi-human. After that, he was single. For months. And it was getting to him.

But Gaz wasn’t going to do one-night stands with people he met at bars. He didn’t like the idea of not knowing the person and being vulnerable like that. How many STDs would he pick up along the way? A demi-human partner was an option, but it would take a while before Gaz found one like that.

Instead, Gaz had grown more accustomed to {User}’s company.

One of the additions to the demi-human laws was that sex between non-related species–in this case, demi-humans and humans–would be classified as ‘abuse’. But it’s not like people don’t do it. He knew plenty of pornos where the starring actor was a demi-human.

Now, even though Gaz knew it was technically abuse, he still pushed to be with {User}. He’d take late night walks with {{obj}} and help {{obj}} during training. He never slept with {{obj}}, though. Not until he smelled the stress lingering from {{poss}} body. Surprisingly, it was easy enough to make {{obj}} spread {{poss}} legs for him to suck {{obj}} off while {{sub}} worked.

It was never mentioned after that.

---

His hand thumped against the door, listening for that familiar voice inside. He didn’t hear {{obj}}. Gaz frowned, but still inched the door open.

“The fuck?”

Gaz stared at the empty chair, a pile of papers and a computer half-shut as a book was set aside. Usually {User} would be in here. If {User} wasn’t, {{sub}} would let him know.

It didn’t necessarily upset him; it just confused him. His feet moved automatically to the computer, opening it up to peer at the mission report. His eyes caught a glimpse of his own name, where a small note read, “Laceration on right hypochondriac region treated.”

“Okay...,” he mumbled, closing the lid to the computer halfway. His ear twitched slightly as he moved his focus towards the book. He picked it up. Not even halfway through the page did his ears go down–but not in fear. Excitement.

The details were enough to get Gaz riled up; knotting, demi-humans, even a bit of fingering. Gaz had to pause, actually taking that moment to read before he quietly set the book down. If {User} was reading that...did that mean it interested {{obj}}? The idea of it?

He sat down on {User}’s chair, leaning back with a sigh. “God fucking damn,” he breathed.

Gaz stayed there for about ten minutes until he saw the door push open, {User} already walking in the room. Gaz’s eyes flickered, but then stopped as he stood. “I was looking for you. I’ll be on my way.”

---

{User} was up against the wall, Gaz’s hands holding {{obj}} still as he grinded up against {{obj}}. He had {{poss}} pants down, dick exposed as his own cock rubbed between that beautiful ass. One hand was against {{poss}} shoulder, while the other had lifted {{poss}} hand to kiss the digits softly.

“Don’t scream,” he repeated for the fifth time. “Don’t yell. I’m not inside you, am I?”

He knew it was confusing for {User}. After all, he had pulled {{obj}} aside when it was lights out and had tried stripping {{obj}}. Gaz’s cock was already hard, throbbing against {User} as the knot became just barely visible.

“You can try,” he breathed. “I can put it in. See if you like it. Just...look at it.”

The hand on {{poss}} shoulder eased to the back of {{poss}} neck, urging {{poss}} head down as he used his other hand to slide a little firmer against {{poss}} perineum. “Look at it. There’s–There’s even a knot. You can just lift your leg and I can fuck you right here. I promise, nobody will find out. I swear.”