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The black feral dog padded along the city sidewalk, kept warm by all the feet that constantly pounded along it over the course of the day; he kept his nose up, whiskers twitching at the air as he sniffed, and eyes forward, weaving around and between the legs of those people, as he knew from experience some of them wouldn't bother moving out of the way for someone like him, someone who, for all the world, looked like just another stray city mutt. Though they had no way of knowing it, this stray city mutt was someone who lived, and thought, and spoke, and walked around like the rest of these people.

Right now, he just hadn't chosen to wear that particular form. He could switch between them, human and dog, at will, and just really didn't feel like being a human tonight.

A few years ago, one of his friends had told him, in reference to that friend's particular habits online - hey, why be a human when you can be a dog, right? And, rather than respond in a way that would give his whole thing away, Cho - the name this dog had been given as a human - just kept his mouth shut about his little trick and shrugged.

Tonight was a night like any other, though. Ever-present rumble of conversation and car engines all around, thumping at his ears; all sorts of mingling scents, from sweat to acidic exhaust to fresh hot dogs somewhere to vomit back in one of the alleys; a quietly-present feeling of anticipation back in the middle of the dog's chest. It was a good anticipation, though. He knew where he needed to go, he knew how he was going to get there, and he knew who he was going to meet there. Or, at least, he hoped he would.

It was at a little side-street down a few more blocks, one unfrequented by most anyway due to how no buildings opened on to the that street. Along that side-street near the back corner sat this little cement stoop leading up to the back of one of the tall buildings, looking for all the world like a rear exit - but, there was no door there. No furniture, no attempt at making it look good: dirt scattered along the ground, dried mortar crumbling out of the cracks, a few large fissures snaking around.

Cho used to always come to that spot, would always curl up in one of the corners of the stoop, the cement walls blocking the rest of the noise of the city from coming to him, and drift off to sleep - because, again, it was a damn good place to get away from life, and to enjoy some of the simple pleasures of being a dog that he just couldn't back at home with his family.

But then one day about a year or so ago, a nearby noise had stirred him from his sleep - light footsteps, rustling clothing, a heavy sigh. Someone had sat down on one of the steps of the stoop, a teenaged boy with mostly blonde hair, save for a few parts that had been dyed. Cho remembered lifting his head, perking his ears up, leaning in a little - thinking about how good this boy smelled - and then nosing against his elbow, resting back on one of the higher steps…

The boy had been startled at first, unsurprisingly, but quickly settled down once he saw that this scruffy black dog had no intention of biting his throat out. At first, Cho thought this boy had seen right through him, the way he introduced himself as if he were talking to another human being - “well, hello… my name's Suno, I go to the high school just-" and he pointed a finger out beyond one of the buildings, his baggy jacket rustling with the

movement, “-over that way… I mean, sometimes I go there, at least… what's your name?"

Cho had considered barking, then, but Suno had reached up and placed a warm hand into the fur of his neck then, taking him by surprise. The dog just raised his head a little, ears up, half-leaning into the touch.

“No collar, huh? Guess you're a stray, then. Y'know, sometimes I feel the same way…"

...and the two just sat there for at least an hour and a half, one talking and the other listening. Cho closed his eyes again but kept himself from falling back asleep, mainly by focusing on Suno's voice, his words, the way the spoke softly and slowly… and, about halfway into their time together, the boy readjusted how he was sitting so he could reach one arm back and rest it along the curve of the dog's body as he lay there, cleanly-trimmed fingernails scritching idly along the smooth fur. Cho remembered Suno mentioning once - “wow, your fur is really soft, Blacky…" as that was the name he'd chosen for him, “You don't secretly have an owner, do you? Hmm?"

Eventually, though, the boy had to leave. Cho remembered raising his head as Suno stood up, dusted himself off, and then turned to look back at the dog. “I gotta go," he said, his voice clearly showing his reluctance. “It was good meeting you, Blacky. I…" But, he never finished his sentence, and instead shoved his hands into his pockets and headed off.

So Cho came back to that spot the following day, and the day after that, and the day after that. He saw Suno only sporadically at first, but after a month or two, it started becoming a regular thing for the two meet at that spot, at that odd dusty stoop in the back corner of the lifeless side-street. Sometimes when his life as a human got too heavy or stressful, Cho would shift and come back here outside of the normal time, the buoyancy from his hope to see Suno again keeping his mood afloat.

And, sometimes, Suno did show up outside of their usual time, the weird half-hour between afternoon and evening just when the sun started to dip beneath the horizon hidden by the high-reaching concrete and steel of skyscrapers. Cho had noticed that whenever he did, it was never for a good reason: the first time it happened, Suno's hair was messy, he hadn't fully buttoned up his shirt, it looked like he'd recently been crying. He just sat back on one of the stairs, leaned against it, dropped his face into his hands, and didn't say anything… until-

“Fuck him."

Cho had never heard him speak like that before. Not outside of his little group of street friends, at least, and not counting the times he'd shown up drunk… which, admittedly, occurred almost more often than not. By their second meeting Cho had a pretty good idea of the kind of life that Suno led.

“Just - goddammit, doesn't he see that he's the reason why I go out so often? Why I hang out with those guys I call - friends, and drink, and smoke, and fuck things up?"

This had happened maybe half a year after the two first met at that spot. Over time Cho had come to learn more and more about this odd teenage boy, as he seemed to find great comfort in speaking to the stray black-furred mutt. Suno regularly hung out with that group of delinquent friends to put on a facade to himself and the world, that he was a tough-guy sort of person, someone who lived up to the appearance brought on by his dyed hair and the numerous piercings along his ear, eyebrow, lips.

But, then, he came back here during that weird half-hour between afternoon and evening, and unload his heart to Blacky. “Today I saw a hobo get hit by a car. The guy just… kept on driving." “I actually went to school today, and had a math quiz, and - Jesus. I'm afraid to go home 'cause of what Dad will do." “Sometimes I wish I didn't live in the city, so when I go outside at night, I can look up and see the stars. I hear they're beautiful.

But, then, I stop wishing that, because leaving the city means I'd no longer get to see you. You've really grown on me, Blacky."

Suno might have been the first to say it, but Cho very much felt the same way about him. There was a reason that he'd started coming to this spot more often, and that reason was him. Sometimes he wished that he'd met Suno while as a human rather than a dog, so that when he rested his head in the lap, it meant more than he was just sleepy; so that when he licked the back of his hand, or his arm, or his neck or cheek, it meant more than just hello; so that when Suno wrapped his arms around his body and buried his face in his neck, he could hug him back and tell him it would be alright-

Actually, one time when Cho had returned him and lounged back on the couch, the front door opened and closed - and his nose twitched, picking up a familiar scent on the air. Even as a human he still retained some characteristics of his other form, and one of those characteristics was an uncanny sense of smell: that evening, he could have sworn that Suno had just walked through the front door - but, when he sat up to look, it was just his half-brother. That had kept Cho considerably confused for quite a while, until he heard Suno mention his half-brother by name one afternoon; apparently, the two were in the same little street group, and Cho just hadn't noticed.

Today, though, he just went through his usual routine, getting to the back corner of the side-street, looking the other direction, waiting there for a moment, and then starting up the uneven cement stairs to lie down on the top landing. For him, coming to this spot had become as regular a part of his daily routine as waking up and going to get something to eat. He just felt odd if he didn't.

And, besides, Suno was one of the few people who made him smile - genuinely smile. Maybe not during their time together, what with Cho being a dog, but certainly back at home later in the night, when he lay in bed with a pillow clutched between his arms.

It was probably dangerous for a dog like him to go around the city and not wear a collar. Up until now, Cho just hadn't been willing to let anyone collar him.

He rested his muzzle over the edge of the landing, keeping his yellow eyes opened and looking down the other direction, the one from which Suno always came.

~ ~ ~

Another shitty day; imagine that. Suno kept his hands shoved into his pockets, willingly ignoring the vibrating of his phone. That would be his father, again, asking where he went, what he was doing - or, rather, demanding that he tell him, just like every other time. And, also just like every other time, Suno had already told him. He just hadn't been listening.

Like usual.

It did lift his mood somewhat to see the familiar black-furred muzzle of the stray he always met here, half-dozing behind a concrete wall around the back of one of these buildings. Hand still in his pocket, Suno switched his phone to silent, tried to fix his expression, and continued forward. Blacky - that was the name he'd given to this stray - lifted his head, wagged his tail, and looked up at the teen with those bright sunlight-yellow eyes of his; Suno returned the smile that he imagined he wore and sat down next to him.

“Hey there," he cooed, squeezing his eyes shut as the dog stood up and licked at his neck and face. For a stray, Blacky looked (and smelled) remarkably well-groomed; because of this, Suno had stopped worrying about him licking his face, quite a while back. Now, he willingly took the displays of affection. He lifted an arm up to scratch and rub at Blacky's neck. “Hey, you. You doing okay?"

The dog barked! Sometimes Suno felt that Black could understand him. Maybe that came with living in a big city like this.

“Yeah? Yeah, that's - that's good." He swallowed, and lowered his arm back down to his side. “I'm… okay, I guess. Could be better. I guess that's the usual state of things, though, huh?"

When he looked to his side again, Blacky still stood there, tail swaying behind him, broad pink tongue hanging out of his mouth. His bright yellow eyes remained fixed on Suno's face as he spoke. While his father rarely, if ever, listened to what he had to say, this dog always gave him all the attention he could - and that was why, when not with his friends, Suno tried to spend as much time as possible here. He deeply wished that he could take Blacky home, but… his want to keep the dog safe overpowered that desire. No telling what his father would do to both of them if he were to show up one day with some dog from the street behind him.

“...Jesus Christ. I'm sorry that I hardly ever come here with good things to say, Blacky. Must be hard on you, having to lie around and listen to my problems. I just… don't really have many good things to tell you. I mean-" Here, he turned back to the dog, and threw his arms around him. Blacky briefly stumbled forward as Suno tugged him closer, and buried his face in the scruffy fur of his neck and shoulder. “-I could mention you. But that'd just be redundant, wouldn't it? Ah…"

He settled back down. So many conflicting feelings and emotions: there was the usual anger, the rage at his father for a whole slew of reasons; and then he knew he'd have to put on a tough face for his friends, would have to pretend to shrug if off and just say nah, he's just bein' a bitch again or something like that; and then there was also the relief of being here with Blacky, someone who wouldn't judge him for what he said or did.

“Dad's pissed 'cause… 'cause yesterday - Suno, you're hanging out a damn lot with those friends of yours, but you still haven't brought home a girlfriend - you're not… not gay, are you? And - I just-" Here, he dropped his hands down between his legs, resting his elbows on his knees. The familiar tight feeling at the back of his throat came back, constricting his breathing a little, altering the sound of his words. He had to push it back. “-Fuck. Just - why would you even ask that? I mean, like, yeah, I hang out with them a lot, but that's because he stresses me out so damn much, and I - I mean… just 'cause I hang out with the guys a lot doesn't mean I'm a-" Here, his voice broke. Suno swallowed. “-a faggot…"

Without realizing it, he dropped off into thought. A few weeks ago, some of the older guys in his group had snuck Suno into one of the clubs down a few blocks. He'd been nervous at first, but of course hadn't let them know - and one of the other guys had lifted a purse from some grandma earlier in the night, so there was plenty of cash to go between them. Suno just watched the other guys for what to do and then did the same, tossing the bills as they did and making the same kinds of cheers and shouts, but… honestly, he wasn't feeling it too much.

Jiang - the one who had managed to sneak Suno in past the guard up front - disappeared into a back room with one of the girls, and then Suno himself got pushed back into a chair with a rather top-heavy blonde rubbing his shoulders and cooing strange sexual jabs at him, and - after looking to the rest of the group for support, Suno handed her a twenty or a fifty or something (or at least, had tried to; she'd taken his hand in hers and slid it up along the band of what little she wore) and let her do her thing, all the while with him watching and - pretending to be interested. For their sake.

Blacky nosed at his arm, and he lifted it up and rested it around the dog's shoulders. Honestly, it was tough, sometimes: he tried to stay away from home as often as possible, staying out all night with his group and then crashing at someone's apartment or house or whatever during the day, hardly ever making it to school, and even then, only going if he needed a reason to not be on the street at that particular time.

Waking up at least three or four times a week with a hangover drilling into his temples and hammering at the back of his skull, occasionally having to roll over in some alley because he was too high to find his way home, often going hungry because the few times he did go home, he just took all of his father's cash he could find and then left again… and, yet, the biggest thing that his father was concerned with was his sexuality. Not if he was okay, or if he had enough to eat, or if he was safe - but, rather, if he was gay.

And, what had Suno told him? The same thing that he told everyone who asked: a simple fuck no, what the hell would make you think that?

Now Blacky leaned forward and rubbed his head underneath Suno's chin, as if he were a cat seeking attention. Even despite himself, Suno couldn't help but laugh and let the smile spread across his face, and gave the mutt another hug. Admittedly, he had started taking some of the time that he used to spend with his group, and with it came back here to see the dog.

Sometimes Blacky was gone, sometimes he was here, but Suno seemed to be able to count on his presence every night, right before sundown as if the dog had a schedule to stick to. Whether he lived here or not, he had no idea: everything about the mutt made him think that he had somewhere to live, that he had an owner, except for how he wore no collar and how nobody ever came to look for him.

It was odd to say - and that was why he never really told anyone - but, Blacky treated him like nobody else ever really had. Looked him in the eye when he spoke to him, reacted appropriately to his words - if Suno arrived with his temper raging and voiced raised, Blacky would keep his yellows eyes on him, concern glittering in them, and keep his ears perked; if something had happened and Suno sat down without so much as saying hello, the dog would come over, nose at his shoulder or his neck or his chin, place a little lick against his cheek, and then lie down next to him; if Suno brought good news, which did happen, however rarely, he'd be wagging his tail and bark his excitement…

And, honestly, it felt good to spend time with the dog, even if most of it was just Suno retelling what had happened during the day or sitting in silence with one arm around him. Blacky was the only one that he didn't have to put on a different face for, the only one where he could actually talk about his feelings and then feel better because of it. Hell, the few times he came up in conversation, Suno had even started referring to him as 'my dog'.

Then, suddenly, the boy lifted his head up and turned, taking the mutt's muzzle between his hands. Blacky recoiled slightly, but stayed in place, yellow eyes flicking back and forth across Suno's face.

He swallowed. “You wouldn't judge me if I- I mean, if I were… gay, would you, Blacky?"

...No response. That was to be expected, though sometimes it did seem like the dog could understand some of what he said. Suno remained with his muzzle between his hands for a few seconds longer, and then, feeling thoroughly silly and a little embarrassed for even bothering to ask, he released the dog and started to turn back away from him, out towards the street.

However, Blacky just as quickly got to his feet, descended the stairs, and stood there in front of Suno, dog's yellow eyes to boy's more fiery amber. His tail swayed slowly behind him, his ears remained relaxed, he kept his head half-tilted - and then, without warning, he leaned in and dragged his tongue in one quick lick across Suno's chin and lips, making him fall back and splutter.

But, even with this, it just made the warmth in his chest bloom a little further, and when he got back up, the smile on his face had widened.

“Little energetic, aren't you? What - you mean to tell me that you have a boyfriend, Blacky?" He'd seen what hung between this mutt's hind legs, sometimes while he slept or walked around near the end of the street. Doubtless that, if that's how it worked in the dog world, Blacky could get just about any of them to bend down and raise their tail for him.

In response, Blacky barked again, and wagged his tail. Still he stood directly in front of Suno, and the boy half-expected to catch another lick across the face.

“No? Probably not. You wouldn't be spending so much time with me. I-" Suno squinted, and glanced around. God, if any of his friends knew about this spot of his… “...wait, do you think I'm your boyfriend?"

Another bark, and more tail-wagging. At first Suno, caught off-guard, felt an odd dread drip down into his chest and cause his heartbeat to pick up considerably… but then realized he was being silly. There was no way that Blacky could understand him, and - even then…

Well, even then, there was no way that Suno was gay. After all, he'd had to vehemently defend his - heterosexuality around his group a few times, and then with his father as well… so as not to dwell on the subject for too long, he tugged his phone, still silenced, out of his pocket and switched it on. And - just his luck: he was right in the middle of getting a call from Jiang.

“Oh…" he murmured, and then cleared his throat and pressed it up to his ear. Had to put on his street voice, after all. “Suno. Why're ya bothering me? ...Huh? Go to a bar? I - no, fuck no. Of course I'm coming. Which one? ...On 22nd Street? Yeah, I'll be there. Can - can you get me in again, or are you gonna pussy out like that one time? Mm? ...Yeah. Yeah, see ya there."

He dropped his hands into his lap before sliding his phone back into his pocket, and then looked up at Blacky, who still stood in front of him. Upon making eye contact, the dog's tail started wagging again.

“Sorry, buddy, but I've gotta go. The guys want me with them tonight. I'll see about coming back later, okay?"

Blacky's wagging slowed to a stop, and his ears splayed out, which again led Suno to believe, if only just for a little… but, no. That was still silly. He stood up, swiped his hair off over one eye like he liked to do, started down the stairs and along the street - but then stopped, swallowed, turned around, knelt down…

“Hey, Blacky. Can I have a goodbye kiss?"

It was probably just in response to how he held his arms out, as he sometimes did in greeting the dog - but Blacky's ears perked back up and he padded over, a bounce in his stride, to lap his pink tongue up along Suno's cheek once, twice, three more times, tail going behind him. Yet again the smile returned to the boy's face, and when he stood back up, his heart beat in his chest with the strength of joy rather than upset nervousness.

This time, he didn't wipe the kiss off his face.

~ ~ ~

Cho watched him as he turned the corner of the street and disappeared behind the building. Every day brought another surprise with that boy: today he arrived upset, quickly became quiet and thoughtful, and then was outwardly happy when he left - and, what was that? Do you think I'm your boyfriend?

The black dog sat down on his hind legs for a moment, and then leaned down and started lapping at a spot between his sheath and the fur of his inner thigh. God, he wished. He'd noticed that as a sort of side-effect of spending so much time with Suno, though that was certainly a vast simplification of the whole matter: the more Suno stayed, the less Cho wanted him to go. It had gotten to the point where sometimes the part of the day that he looked forward to the most was these little meetings of theirs, to the point where the rest of the things he had planned just seemed dull and uninteresting.

It was his face, his smile, his voice, his scent - God, definitely his scent. That was part of why Cho rubbed his muzzle against him so often: whenever he picked up Suno's scent on the air, it sent a sweet, sweet shiver down his back, made his heart pick up and woke him up a little, and in more ways than one.

That was something he'd been trying to hide from Suno for a while, as it embarrassed him a little. What could he say? He was a dog - around Suno, at least. Dogs have their wants and desires, too, and it just so happened that over the year or so they'd known each other, Suno had become Cho's main desire. Just like before, his attraction lay in the way he spoke to him, how he put his arm around him if he had nothing to say, how he sometimes took Cho's muzzle in his hands and pressed their foreheads together, just watching each other's eyes…

And then today, how he'd - asked for a kiss. Sure, it had been a little cheap earlier for Cho to take him by surprise across the mouth like that, but - he'd been wanting to for a while, and every time he'd done that in the past, Suno had wiped it off. Today, though, as he left, the dog couldn't help but notice he didn't. Instead, when he brought his hand to his cheek, he just held it there for a moment, smiled, and then turned and left. Seeing that brought a warmth to his heart that Cho hadn't often felt before.

He continued licking at the side of his sheath, intentionally pressing his nose into the soft, warm skin, lightly dusted with his own scent. A little point of pink flesh peeked out of the end of that sheath, something that he sometimes had to hide from Suno due to the effect the boy's scent had on him. Hell - he was ashamed to admit it, but sometimes it took all Cho had not to hop up onto his shoulders and mount him, when he sat in front of the dog leaning back against him, the physical contact between them small but still definitely there… part of his folly lay in, sometimes, imagining that Suno felt the same way about him.

Sometimes Cho would sprawl out on the edge of the top landing of the stairs, and then Suno would lean back against him and rest his head on his gently stirring chest. And, of course, the close proximity and contact would elicit the same reaction from the dog, and he'd have to put all his effort into not air-humping forward and possibly spurting out pre all over the side of Suno's face (how embarrassing that would be) - but, sometimes, the teen would turn towards that end of his body, and his eyes would briefly flick down over the dog's sack and sheath and revealed cock, if only for a little, before he turned back and adjusted his position.

Predictably, it was quite easier to act on these thoughts of desire and relieve his tension as a human rather than a dog, back at home in the privacy of his room and beneath his blankets - but, sometimes, it couldn't really wait. Today, though… as tempted as he was, especially with his nose rubbing against the slick, musky flesh of his cock each time he licked, now for his own pleasure rather than his original intent of grooming - he felt that he should hold off on that.

Call it elevated expectations, probably baseless, but… he felt good about tonight. So, instead of shifting back to his human form to run home, he just climbed back up the stairs and curled up in his usual spot for a nap, though knew that sleep would evade him no matter how hard he tried. His mind remained awake with scenarios and thoughts, with wants and desires that had been steadily deepening and growing for about a year now.

~ ~ ~

Suno had to keep one hand out against the wall of the building, else he would tip over. Jiang had certainly managed to get him into that bar alright, and kept passing him drink after drink somehow without the barkeeper noticing. Suno had lost count within the first hour of sitting down, and then he tried to start again, but quickly found he'd forgotten how to count. That happened sometimes when he drank.

Maybe he'd had a little too much tonight, maybe not. He could remember, however, that he'd promised his dog that he'd return later in the night, so - instead of hobbling out of the bar and following his friends, he slurred something that sounded like a goodbye and started down the street the other way, towards where he knew their little meetup spot was. Hopefully Blacky would still be there; either way, Suno doubted he'd have the balance or energy to make it back out of the street tonight, if he were to sit down there.

Night had deepened enough that every liquid shadow looked like a black-furred dog, stirring gently in sleep or wagging its tail in greeting. Because of this, the teen's heart picked up again and again, only to be let back down with disappointment at seeing it was just the dizziness of alcohol and his fuzzy vision that fooled him… until he leaned against the wall of the cement landing atop the back porch of that one building, however, and looked down directly into glittering yellow eyes, almost giving off a light of their own.

“Hey," he slurred, and tried to lower himself down to his knees. One of his shins banged against the corner of one of the stairs; he wouldn't have noticed had it not prevented his leaning forward any further. Once he got down to his hands and knees, he almost fell over, but righted himself. Blacky lifted his head and looked at him, tail swinging slowly behind him as he lay on his side. “You… How're ya, boy? Doin' okay?"

World started spinning. Suno leaned down and flumped his forehead against the side of the dog's body, closing his eyes and breathing in the gentle musky and faintly-aromatic scent of the mutt. Small snippets of memories flicked through his mind: that time when his dad beat him so hard he thought his arm was broken, and he came back here, held onto the dog, and cried into his fur for a solid half-hour; that time he'd lost track of his friends and couldn't go back home, so he just stayed here, pulled up that little sheet of cardboard that now rested against the wall, and slept here with Blacky in his arms; or the occasional times when he had nothing to say, no stories to tell the dog, and just held his arms out and rested his chin atop the mutt's muzzle.

“Baah…" he breathed, and swallowed. He brought a hand up to stroke the dog's side, but ended up jamming his fingers a little awkwardly into the warm squishiness of his lower belly first. “Y'know, life ain't so bad, Blacky. I mean, 'long as I don't have to pay for the beer… or the vodka… or the… whatever else I got… eh. Don't go home, don't go to school, and you'll - an' you'll be golden. Tell ya what."

Now, he just barely managed to roll over on his back, the edges of the stairs digging uncomfortably into his spine, but not enough for him to bother doing anything about it. One of his hands drifted down to his lower belly while he placed the other underneath his head for a bit of a cushion; from here, looking straight up at the night sky between the buildings, he could see a whole bunch of dark greyish-blue, the faint outlines of some clouds, and then absolutely no stars. Behind him, Blacky got to his feet and then started padding down the stairs.

“Sometimes I figger, 'bout Dad… jus' - fuck 'im. Y'know? He's the one who's most concerned if I - 'f I'm a faggot or not. An', I keep on telling him, no Dad… It's not like I actually am gay or anything. Not at all. That's - fuckin' stupid, right? 'F only you could talk, Blacky… I'm sure you'd tell 'im…"

While he was talking, he didn't notice the strange warm pressure lifting up between his legs, sprawled out over the lowest two stairs. At first he thought his hand had drifted down without his knowledge and now tugged at himself, but then, he scratched his belly with that hand - and, a little confused, lifted his head, fought against the resulting dizziness, and looked down, to see a black-fleshed nose lifting up against the bottom seam of his jeans, yellow eyes directed towards his face. Even after making eye contact, the dog still nuzzled at his crotch, sniffing audible in the relative still of night.

“Whoa." Suno squirmed and tried to bat the mutt away, but kept on misjudging the distance and instead just flapped his hand around in midair a bit. “Stop that. Hey - Blacky, quit it-"

But, the more the dog nuzzled at him, the more he pressed in and exhaled through his clothing against his length… Suno found that each time he lifted his hips up against the dog's muzzle in an attempt to push him off, it just felt better, just - embarrassingly, made him stiffen up a little more. It was like - like someone running their hand up along him, though without any of the gritty discomfort of it being a quick uncoordinated grind on the dance floor of some club somewhere. This time, it felt more like a touch from someone that actually mattered to him, and to whom he mattered - somehow. Even though it was just the soft nose of a feral dog.

His cheeks started to burn bright red even above the warmth from his drunkenness, and again he tried to push the dog away. Now, though, a resilient firmness throbbed underneath the fly of his pants, and he found that he was pushing him away just because it seemed like that was the right thing to do, not because he wanted to push him away.

However, he ignored that conclusion, shoved it into the back of his mind. Though… it wouldn't be - gay, per se - if it was… with a dog, would it? Not that he was actually considering something like that. Suno was still a virgin, and looking at the kind of person his friends hung out with, he'd rather remain that way for a while… but…

Blacky seemed to be able to sense his discomfort. The dog adjusted his position, stepping forward a little and first nosing along the clear outline of Suno's cock through his pants, and then at the button of his fly, half-covered by the lower hem of his shirt. There he placed a few little licks, crossing over from the metal of his pants button to the skin of his lower belly – and, God, that feeling, warm, smooth, gentle, slightly moist… even despite himself, it sent a sweet shiver through his body, and made him throb up against the dog's chin again.

Nobody would see him here, would they? This street remained unused during the busiest of weekdays, and right now it was probably approaching midnight… before he knew what he was doing, Suno had shifted his other hand down the rest of the distance, squeezed the little flap of cloth between his finger and thumb – Blacky moved and licked at the back of his hand – and popped the button through, and then moved on to the zipper… God, his heart beat in his chest, like the first time he'd done something illegal. Something he knew he shouldn't be doing, and something he knew that he shouldn't enjoy, but – well. That just made it more appealing.

It's not like he'd thought about doing something like this before. Sure, there were a few times when his mind wandered if he had some time to himself, and his hands would stray down, he'd close his eyes and drift off into thoughts and wishful scenarios, about someone else's hands on him, someone's tongue running up along him, someone's lips closing around his length-

Blacky dragged his broad, smooth tongue up along the underside of Suno's cock, taking him by surprise and making him lurch upward with a sweet moan squeezing its way out of his clenched teeth. God, that felt – good, actually; he pushed down the screams of resistance and inhibition in the back of his mind and intentionally lifted his cock up with his thumb for easier access to the dog, who did it again, and again, and again, each time a little different than the last, as if he knew what felt good.

“God…" he breathed, and shifted up the steps a little. He began working his hand along his length while Blacky continued to lap at his cock, all of this stress and tension from the past few days only making the indulgence that much stronger. His drunken mind had already forgotten about his problems with the whole thing, had already ignored the fact that this was a male dog that pressed its nose into his unkempt pubes and drew its tongue along his hard, throbbing length again and again, leaving slick saliva along his skin and lapping off any pre that drooled out.

If he opened his eyes, if he leaned to the side and peered around Blacky's body, he could just barely see the point of pink flesh protruding from the end of his sheath, the same one he'd seen a few times in the past. Behind that sheath hung the dog's sack, full and heavy and swaying slightly with the feral's heartbeat and breathing. That wasn't something that had come up in his mind before, but now that he was right here looking at it, now that he could touch it if he just leaned forward a little more…

Blacky moved to the side and angled his body toward him, then, as if knowing what sort of thoughts ran through Suno's unbalanced mind. The boy slid down a little further, hand still moving along his own cock, as he positioned himself underneath the dog's body. Such sweet warmth, and a gentle scent like the one he smelled on his fur earlier, though spiked with a sharp undertone of something else, something faintly like the scent that hovered around the air each time Suno emptied his load over his own chest when he did manage to find time to himself – and, then, he closed his hand around the base of Blacky's sheath, squeezing on the smooth, supple skin, just as warm as the rest of him.

It was only the polite thing to do, after all. Handling a dog couldn't be much different than handling a person, right? And it wasn't like he'd ever imagined handling another guy before.

Suno started to squeeze and rub at Blacky's sheath, watching the way the dog humped forward a little or lifted his hips, trying to figure out if he was doing okay – and then receiving a few short spurts of salty something across his face in answer, while the dog's reddish-pink contoured length continued to slide out of that sheath. About as long as Suno himself, and around the same thickness as well… without knowing it, the teen had flicked his tongue over his lips and licked off whatever it was Blacky had shot at him, which still jetted out of the tapered tip of his length every now and then. He didn't want to hurt the dog's feelings, after all.

Still, though, he felt more nervous than he had in – oh, in years. Even keeping his hand at the base of the dog's cock holding it here, angling it towards his face, his hand shook; his arms felt weak and jellylike, probably in part to the alcohol he'd downed as well. So, instead of remaining half-sitting, half-lying down underneath the dog, Suno wriggled back a bit, rested back against the stairs with his legs raised up and Blacky between them…

…and, then, without putting a second thought into his actions and rather relying on the deepest of his wants, he shifted his pants down his thighs a little but further and lifted his lower body up. This position wasn't much better, but-

-Feeling Blacky's continued spurts against his bared rump changed the course of his mind from worry to want, and sped up the speed of his hand along his own cock. Sure, this wasn't at all how Suno expected his first time to go, but, God, did he want it now… bracing himself against the stairs for balance, he moved his other hand down, felt up along the warm, slick surface of Blacky's cock, angled it forward towards him, and then gently, gently, pressed closer to him, making sure to get him to slicken him up first.

Okay, so maybe Suno had pressed a few fingers up into him in the past. But nothing more. That wasn't gay; that was being curious. So what if he liked it? That didn't mean anything. Besides, so long as he didn't end up spilling details about tonight, nobody would know, right? Nobody would have to know. Nobody except for himself and Blacky. And, seeing as how the dog looked down at him with soft yellow eyes and a relaxed muzzle as the feral took up the movement and gently pushed forward, as if he knew this was Suno's first time… well, he wasn't too worried about it.

It certainly was odd: Suno had seen dogs fucking on the streets several times, and they'd always been thrusting fast and hard, almost without any concern for the bitch they bred. With Blacky, though… the dog leaned forward into him, paws on the stairs beside Suno's shoulders and tapered tip pressing up against him, slowly, as if concerned about his comfort. It was almost as if he had a bit of humanity in him that made him go slow, so that both of them enjoyed it.

Suno was actually the one who intentionally sped things up a little, lifting his hips a little further and pushing with more force. He had to suck in a gasp and grit his teeth, then, as Blacky's cock started to sink into him, already stretching him wider than he'd ever had before: it was a deep, resounding discomfort, painful and vaguely nauseating, but – he still wanted it, still moved back a little for some relief, waited, and then started pressing back down onto him.

A car drove by on the streets outside, but he didn't bother moving. Nobody could see him back here. Suno found that if he moved a little deeper onto the dog and then stopped and waited, he could almost handle the feeling without as sharp a measure of the uncomfortable pain as before. It was his drunkenness and determination to get off tonight that pushed him through it, as well as another odd feeling he didn't recognize – a sort of… warmth in his chest, a weird, pleasant pressure that flared up every time he opened his eyes and looked up to see this dog over him, or every time he breathed in through his nose and got another taste of Blacky's scent.

As long as he went slow, it wasn't bad. This was an odd position, sure, but it worked wonderfully for taking his time, for getting Blacky to sink into him and stretch him a little further, and then for him to get accustomed to that new thickness before moving any more. Along the way Suno had stopped stroking himself, but when he did move his hand back down, his thumb grazed through a pool of slick pre that had gathered around his belly button as a result of having the dog press into him – and then, a little bit longer and most of the pain had faded away. It would still take some time, though: any movement too fast, too sudden would send another unpleasant jolt through his body.

Suno swallowed again and started readjusting, moving back down do give his legs a break. The feeling of Blacky sliding back out of him, after emptying who knows how much slick, runny dog pre into him… his tapered tip came free with a little pop, and then before he could change his mind, Suno had rolled out from under him and got down onto all fours, pushing his pants down his legs a little further.

“C'mon," he breathed, looking back at glittering yellow eyes. “I want to."

Blacky seemed to understand. He padded over, hopped up onto the teen's back, hooked his arms over his shoulders, and then thrust forward a few times, slowly, gently, to find his entrance; again Suno had to suck in a gasp and bite back a noise of pain, but once Blacky had set his tip against him and started to sink back into him, the pleasure returned. Suno's mind burned with embarrassment and wonder and guilt, with something akin to anger –not at Blacky, not at his father for once, but rather at himself, for a number of different reasons. He squirmed, he swallowed, he dug his fingernails along the rough cement of the stairs – and he rested his head against the upper landing.

Blacky started out slow, moving his hips forward and back, forward and back, each time pressing a little deeper into Suno a little faster. Suno had moved his hand back between his legs to stroke at himself, and found that he actually had to hold himself off, or else he'd get off too quickly: he wanted to be panting and shivering by the end of it. Impatience got the best of him, and he started to intentionally shove his hips back against the dog, again and again and again – until he could feel the warm bulge of his swollen knot against him.

Pretty damn good for his first time, he thought. He swallowed and raised himself up, feeling Blacky's instincts start to take over as the dog's thrusts picked up in speed and strength, faster and harder into him – and he couldn't resist opening his mouth and moaning out into the night, clenching around him with each thrust in and squeezing every time he pulled out, wanting him to fuck him harder and deeper. In the morning he'd certainly regret this, or at least part of it; but, right now… right now, it was all he wanted. All his inhibitions from before – I'm not gay; I don't like it like that; what the fuck are you talking about? – had curled up and died. None of that was important.

What was important was that this was himself and Blacky, and nobody else.

His own orgasm took him by surprise, as he felt the sticky warmth of it spurting out over his hand before the sharp pleasure through his body – but, then, it happened, causing him to arch his back, suck in yet another gasp, and push firmly back against Blacky, deep enough that the dog's cock in him sent a slight jolt of pain into him underneath the rich, resounding pleasure. A breathy moan worked its way out of his parted lips; every muscle in his body clenched; he shuddered and shivered and sighed, emptying his load over the concrete beneath him in spurt after spurt – and then, totally drained, rested his head against his arms, chest rising and falling, rising and falling with slow panting. Blacky remained hilted in him for a while, muzzle resting against Suno's cheek, before he dismounted, pulling another short moan out of the teen.

There was no way he'd be going home tonight, especially not that he smelled of cum and dog. Suno pulled himself up to the upper landing, not even bothering to knock the sheet of cardboard down, and tugged his pants back up his legs; then, he held one arm up, foggy eyes trying to focus on Blacky in the darkness.

A warm, fuzzy lump soon settled up against his body, and sprawled against him. He buried his nose in the mutt's scruffy neckfur, and breathed that same scent that had overtaken his senses. He'd forgotten about his problems with his father tonight, had forgotten that he told Jiang he'd meet up with the group about a fifteen minutes' walk from here, had forgotten that he had some other things to do… but, of course, none of that really mattered.

This would all come back to him tomorrow, of course, but until then, he had nothing to worry about.