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A Need For

Summary:

It's a busy rainy Friday and an office full of work, per usual.

At least... it was, until a certain feline makes a surprise 'appointment'.

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Smirnov clutches at the back of the tan trench coat, arms hooked under the detective's own. It smelled of earth and the black cats' own scent, rain exacerbating the two. He can't help but put his nose to the material, sniffing in deep with a moan.

He never thought the two would be in such a position. They were close, professionally speaking, but not enough to interact like this.

Blacksad ruts again, against both their bodies, both of their erect cocks gliding together. Smirnov grits his teeth as the force pushes him harder into the wall at his back. He can't help but throw his own weight forward doing the same as Blacksad does to him. A mess of movement, uncoordinated from one side and coordinated from the other.

It all came from one damn night. The two of them, alone. It was a risky decision to have them both be prowling through files in his office late at night. In hindsight, It helped the case tremendously in the end but in the present? In the present it could've gotten the both of them in some serious trouble, being confidential information not open to anyone but the P.D’s eyes.

Blacksad's hand reaches further down, grabbing at one of Smirnov's furred asscheeks. The German shepherd yips at the contact, voice partially muffled from the coat his nose is stuffed against. The cat just chuckles with a gravelly tone. It hits the dog's ears just right enough for him to shiver into relief at the vocalization.

Just one night was enough to change everything, shake his being. Everything he believed. He could chalk it up to the alcohol they partook in but in truth it wasn't enough for bad decisions and washy judgment. They were too close, sitting on the desk just swapping the bottle of bourbon, shooting the shit. Smirnov never had any allusion to any feelings for each other. Certainly not from himself. Not of this kind.

The black cat's mouth meets at Smirnov’s jawline. Teeth can be felt as he gives a lovely little nibble along it. The dog tilts his head up and back, giving more access to him. His furred hand slides down onto the detective's bare hip, underneath his damp coat.

It just happened. At some point they had leaned into each other enough while laughing about something Smirnov couldn't remember. They both looked into each other's eyes, silly smiles still adorned. They had kissed then. No, nothing gentle. It devolved far enough to turn into a sloppy makeout session, hands grabbing and pulling close together. It only got worse from there.

Blacksad’s lips trailed down the muzzle onto his neck, leaving a slightly wet path. This time he gave a sizable gnaw at the flesh hidden by the mottled brown and black fur. The German shepherd sharply inhales, body tensing.

He remembers how the cat then dropped to his knees, undoing the commissioner's belt in the process. Smirnov’s mind told him to stop him, that it was too much, too far. He casted them aside, letting the comfort that it was a one time thing justify what was happening. He had stared expectantly. It was all it took for the cat to drop the rest of his lower clothing and start sucking his cock.

Smirnov drops his other hand to Blacksad’s hip as he pulls away, enough to look at the other man. A hunger lurked behind those pale green eyes, it was something the other side had too. They join lips, meeting halfway. Just like before it dissolves into a tackling of tongues and swapping of saliva. The cat's tongue is short, it feels rough and somewhat dry despite the wetness they shared in. It was opposite the dogs, where it was long and almost constantly swathed in drool. It was easy for Smirnov to dominate over Blacksad, or it would've been, if the dog wanted that. There was a certain euphoria he found in being submissive.

Non-stop moans and whining spilled out of his throat, filling the office. So much so he had to clamp his mouth shut with his hand at how good Blacksad devoured his dick. It wasn't a surprise seeing how pent up he had been. Not having any sexual conduct in about a month, maybe more.

Smirnov whines, he pulls himself away from Blacksad's tongue and buries his head into his neck. He crushes his eyes closed as he starts to pick up the pace in grinding against the cat's body. Blacksad lets out a breathy groan, it fills the German shepherd with a warmth in his chest but a guilt in the mind.

The bedroom had dried up. Smirnov’s wife had her hands full with two children, he did himself being a police commissioner. It was amiable, neither made moves toward one another. Not that they weren't affectionate towards one another but it faded in the sex department. He cringes at the thought of what he did that night, cheating on his wife. It was supposed to just be a one off secret he'd keep to the grave. Obviously not, judging by what was happening now.

The dog feels tears prick underneath his eyelids, threatening to spill out. He feels himself getting close to his orgasm. Movement sloppy, short, and quick. He grits his teeth to contain the noises that threaten to blow out his throat. The rest of the police department could hear if he didn't. A dangerous position, it could ruin his life had it ever got out. It just heightens his guilt. Heightens his ever present need. Some wicked dance of taboo desire.

They had this five times. Six now. In a short amount of time too, just two weeks. These sexual encounters unshackled this, for lack of a better word, dog in him. Smirnov couldn't get enough, he imagines this is what it was like with an addiction. Just the sight of the black cat got him thinking horrible dirty thoughts. It betrayed all he thought of himself, a straight loving faithful husband. The thing was, while it hurt, it was something he almost didn't regret.

That makes the water at his eyelids slip out. He whines pathetically, unbecoming of his position. He wants it so bad. His cock stung in an irritation and agitation at both the rubbing and the teetering edge of his orgasm. His fingers dug into Blacksad’s skin whilst a shakiness struck at his knees.

“God…. damn, I'm…” Smirnov finally speaks for the first time since Blacksad had pinned him to the wall. He felt weak for that. Like he was trying not to talk, to avoid hearing the voice of the man who wrecked his world.

“Close?” It's one word but the grit of his voice, the deepness, in his ears that makes him shudder. It would've never happened before, hadn't happened before. Yet now in this context, of what they did? It frayed the wires in his head.

“Ye-yes…” Upon his answer he feels a hand guide his head out of its rooted position at Blacksad’s neck. Smirnov knows the reason for the movement. His eyes dart around the cat's face before landing on the lips that had a wetness to them.

“C'mon then, let it out Smirnov.” It's all it takes.

Throwing his head forward the German shepherd viciously attacks with tongue lashing around his nice mouth, desperate to get in. Blacksad waits a moment, taking a fascination in the dog's frantic attempt to get in. Smirnov's growl rises in impatience and finally with a short throaty laugh Blacksad lets him in.

The cat lets the tongue swirl around and explore his mouth, putting his own appendage down to fully give the other man control inside. It comes with an obscene spillage and pilling of mouthy fluids. They froth and bubble at the rapid deep movement. They push out of each other's mouths dripping down from their chins, creating strings and strands that join. It's enough that whatever's leftover has to be swallowed with audible gulps. Smirnov’s glad that the noise from the intense makeout is only there for them, reserved only for the duo.

He bucks his hips into Blacksad’s precum slathered cock with his own. The cat lets him, acting as a wall as he holds him by the tan coat he wears. It's not long before Smirnov cums.

He feels the howl tearing up through his throat, racing to be let out. Smirnov tries to yank his head back enough to shut his mouth but the detective has other plans.

In a bold move Blacksad launches forward twisting his head to the side and puts most of his face directly into his maw. Smirnov’s howl is nothing but a smothered gurgle groan, tongue fully laid into the cat's throat. Blacksad sucks on it while the dog rides his high.

Smirnov was always surprised by how much was able to be drawn out of him. Load after rope after string shoot from his dick, each one making his whole body tense. It bathes both of their abdomens and cocks in a pearly white substance. At last when it is over Smirnov can only huff and puff, whole body sagging, eyes tight.

With that Blacksad draws his head out of the jaws of the commissioner. When Smirnov opens his eyes with a glaze in them and sees the mess they made together, he would laugh at the indecency. How the cat looked like his head was partially soaked in water. How when he looked down the mess in their fur, that this would not be easy to clean up, certain it would crust. Or maybe he wouldn’t, because of how when he looked up he could see the other look into his eyes with hunger still.

Hunger that Smirnov shared but couldn't bring himself to do. Despite all that he has defiled in the name of this lust.

The commissioner turns his head away, straightening his posture. He withdraws his hands, pulling away from the black cat. It signals the end of their lewd act when he fixes his tie before patting at his suit.

“Thanks, for that. It was… good.” Smirnov steps around his true feelings just as he does Blacksad. He goes to his desk, opens a drawer with a tissue box and snatches quite a few.

“Good? Nice to know a tongue down my throat counts as 'good’.” Blacksad jests at the dog's wording, it makes him purse his lips.

He tried not getting entangled in feelings. This was to be something they shared, but more in the… transactional sense. It made it easier to sleep at night knowing neither of them had some sort of romantic feelings toward one another. It was just sex.

Well not in the traditional sense.

Smirnov sighs as he throws away the used tissues into the trash bin next to his desk. He pulls out some more and turns on his heel to give Blacksad some. Fingers brushing together for the briefest moment as he takes them. Smirnov feels that shock at the touch, he opts to turn his gaze anywhere else.

“Fine. It was great, amazing, spectacular. Better?” The German shepherd can't help the heat that edges into his voice. Blacksad promptly, upon noticing this, rolls his eyes with a smirk.

“Don't need to be an ass about it.” Despite him joking Smirnov can't help the jolt of panic that goes through his head.

“Sorry. It's just…” He doesn't finish his sentence, feeling better to leave it alone. He takes another few tissues to dry himself out as a distraction.

“I know, don't worry.” Blacksad responds, it does relieve the German shepherd.

They both finish cleaning up, as much as they can anyway. Both redress in silence. Both make themselves presentable in silence. Both look to each other when ready to go separate ways.

Smirnov passes a folder stuffed with blank papers to Blacksad. The cat gingerly looks at it in question.

“What's this for?” He asks when he flips through the folder.

“Can't look empty handed after spending all this time in here, can you?” Smirnov answers, placing a hand on the detective's shoulder, guiding him to the door. All professional, locking any feeling for next time.

“Good thinking, here I thought I was the smart one.” The commissioner scoffs at the reply, shaking his head.

“Just shut up and get out, John.” Smirnov says lightly with a pat at his tan coat. The cat laughs quietly while reaching for the doorknob.

He stops though, head turning slightly. Green eyes meeting brown.

“We're still good for Sunday, yeah?” Right, Smirnov remembers the date.

Not an actual date but when they were supposed to meet to have sex. Today's encounter wasn't planned. Blacksad simply just barged in, faking an appointment with his detective wit, and well… the rest happened.

“Yes, yes we are.” It was already set, an excuse already made to… to his…

He doesn't want to think about that, not yet.

The upturn on the corners of the cat's lips staunches the thoughts he has.

“Good, see you later then Smirnov.” He bids the commissioner goodbye with a subtle warmth.

Opening the door he leaves, shutting it behind him.

Smirnov's hand still hangs in the air, halfway to his side. A wetness makes him narrow his eyes, almost closing them. He plants his head on the seal of the door with a shaky exhale.

Yes, he would see him later.