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Michael should have stopped after the first drink. Hell, he shouldn't even have had that first one, should have said no when the big German bear offered him a ride home. The dark brindle borzoi wasn't stupid - stupid got you killed real quick in this line of work - he knew what Vinzent wanted; it wasn't like he'd even tried to hide his intentions, much to Fertita's annoyance and Mr. Beaumont's amusement. But Vinzent was dangerous as hell, and the relationship between him and Beaumont's gang was somewhat tumultuous, and this was definitely a bad idea.

But god above he looked good in that satin suit, the way the dark red contrasted richly against his black fur - even with the stupid fucking matching hat - and Michael had never been prone to making good decisions.

"Another, Liebling?" Vinzent asked, tipping the bottle of vodka towards Michael.

Michael took a long, hard look at the bottle in Vinzent's huge paw - deep burgundy glass that matched the metallic filigree L stamped onto a matte black label - then shrugged and held his glass out. "Sure, why the fuck not. I've never been a vodka guy but this? This is pretty nice."

Vinzent laughed, filling up Michael's glass with expertise even as the limo hit a painfully big pothole that jarred their bones and made the booze slosh dangerously in their glasses. "It had fucking better be, I don't pay those bastards to make shitty liquor."

Michael's eyebrow lifted a little. "This is your booze?"

"Ja," Vinzent replied, lifting the bottle to his lips for a drink before turning it towards Michael so he could see the Lehmann name printed below the filigree L. "It's good business, and keeps my old friends very happy." A grin spread across his muzzle and he clinked the neck of the bottle against Michael's glass cheerfully. "And helps to make new ones."

Michael felt his ears and cheeks start to burn a little, matching the pleasant heat that slid down his throat as he anxiously knocked back the drink. He was glad for his little folded ears and the black mask covering his muzzle; it made the way the bear was making him feel much less obvious. "Oh, we're friends now, huh?"

He didn't meet Vinzent's intense, icy stare, nor did he look down when thick fingers traced slowly along the outside of his thigh, first up, then back down. His heart leapt into his throat at the touch and it felt like all the blood in his body decided to rush hotly into his ears and face (or most of it at least; he could feel the telltale tight tingles that suggested more than a little had run southward).

"I thought so," Vinzent practically purred, his voice dropping a little and growing noticabley husky. His fingers halted halfway back up Michael's thigh, then shifted so that his whole paw now rested on his inner thigh, claws brushing along his inseam as his hand continued on its journey higher. "Or, friendly, at least."

Michael's breath caught in his throat, and the hot, tight feeling in his sheath grew more and more the higher Vinzent's hand climbed. Part of him wanted to grab his wrist and stop him, another wanted to grab it and guide him home to his crotch. He didn't have a chance for either, though, as Vinzent's hand slid away just as it reached his crotch, knuckles brushing over the bulge growing in his slacks. Swallowing thickly, his mouth almost painfully dry, Michael turned to respond to Vinzent, but before he could get a word out, rough fingerpads gently cradled his chin and held his face steady as Vinzent pressed a kiss to his muzzle. It was shockingly tender - he hadn't thought Vinzent was capable of that - and for a moment he forgot how to breathe, the empty glass falling from his paw to the floor of the limo with a very far away clink.

The kiss was almost chaste in its softness and it made Michael's stomach flutter a little in an embarrassing way; soft and sweet at least until Vinzent brushed his tongue gently across Michael's lips. Electric sparks shot down his spine from the touch and he couldn't swallow the moan that welled up in his throat. Vinzent practically pounced on him then with a growl, all softness leaving the kiss and being replaced with a rough aggression that made the borzoi's head swim. Unthinking, Michael's fingers wound themselves in the thick fur around Vinzent's neck to hold on for dear life as he did his best to return the assault of a kiss, knocking the big mobster's hat askew in the process. The bear didn't even seem to notice though, giving Michael's lower lip a rough bite as his hand fell away from his chin to work on the buttons of his shirt.

Vinzent made quick work of the buttons, snapping off the ones that gave him trouble with a quick yank, which normally would have pissed Michael off, but at the moment, with Vinzent's tongue in his mouth and his hand in his shirt, he couldn't find it in him to care. Claws raked through the creamy, silky fur of Michael's lean chest before the hand flattened out and ran slowly down his front. His breath hitched as that rough palm neared his belt, then escaped in a low moan when his erection was grabbed through his slacks.

"Ah, fuck," he breathed against Vinzent's mouth, rocking up against his hand and giving his ruff a light pull.

Vinzent chuckled softly and squeezed down on Michael's cock again. "Soon, Liebling, I promise."

Vinzent's voice was deep and rough and slid down Michael's spine to puddle in his belly like a pool of molten metal, sending shivers racing upward in its wake. Christ, a promise? Was he really gonna fuck this bear? The liquor that filled his veins and made his head swim joined in with the hard-on raging in his slacks to say absolutely yes, but a nagging voice in the back of head that sounded suspiciously like Fertita heartily disapproved. Cutting this off now was probably the smart decision.

Then again, when did he ever make good decisions? Hell, he hadn't made even one at all today, so why the fuck start now?

Fuck it.

Rocking up against Vinzent's hand, Michael curled his tongue around Vinzent's upper lip, letting his hands fall away from his neck fur to grab at his biceps. The bear huffed out a soft, surprised noise that turned into a low, amused chuckle as he kissed him harder, sharp teeth nipping gently at his lower lip and his tongue slipping out to meet Michael's. Another moan rolled out of him and his hands squeezed down on Vinzent's biceps. Jesus Christ. Being a bear, he was obviously broad and thick, but frankly Michael hadn't expected a fur his age to be so strongly built. He had - perhaps foolishly - assumed him to just be heavy, but the muscles flexing under his fingers were thick and strong, not quite iron-hard under a thin layer of fat but still powerful enough that Michael knew Vinzent could manhandle him with ease if he wanted to. That realization sent a hot jolt right to his cock.

Vinzent's hand left his crotch to run slowly, lustily back up over his belly and chest, finding his nipple and pinching it roughly before disappearing. Mike could feel his arm shifting under his hand, busy with something, but before he could form any coherent thoughts, Vinzent's hand was cradling his chin again, thumb brushing against the bit of longer scruff growing there.

"Beautiful," Vinzent murmured, a little breathless, as he pulled away to look Michael's long-snouted face over. His stormy-sea green eyes were blown black with lust and focused on Michael's mouth. Idly, one thick fingertip brushed over his lips, tender from the intensity of their kissing. "So very beautiful."

Vinzent's touch sent chills racing down Michael's spine and had a pleasantly sore tingle in his lips following in its wake. He met the bear's gaze, lips parted ever so slightly, and touched the tip of his tongue to his claw. Vinzent huffed a little, just a soft little exhalation, and pressed his finger into Michael's mouth, the soft huff turning into a deep groan as Mike's lips eagerly - one could almost say greedily - wrapped around the digit.

His finger slid in lewdly, then back out slowly, only to be joined by a second as his claws met Michael's lips. Michael moaned softly and sucked greedily on the fingers penetrating his muzzle, watching Vinzent's face with hooded eyes. Vinzent's ears were flushed, face stony with concentration as he watched his fingers slide vulgarly between the young dog's lips, fucking his pretty mouth slowly. Michael let his eyes fall closed with a soft moan and enthusiastically sucked on the thick fingers filling his mouth.

One hand dropped down to slide over the satin covering Vinzent's strong thigh, following the curve upward to his crotch. He inhaled softly in surprise when his fingers met skin instead of more fabric, but didn't miss a beat in wrapping them around the hot, hard flesh of Vinzent's cock - fuck, his thick cock - and starting to stroke. The rumble that rolled in Vinzent's chest was low and rough and feral and made Michael squirm in his seat, though he couldn't keep a small, smug smirk from touching his lips. His hand followed the pace Vinzent set in his mouth, speeding up and slowing down as he did so, squeezing down whenever he sucked particularly hard on his fingers. That little trick earned him a soft grunt each time, grunts that made his painfully hard cock twitch behind his zipper. He could feel his fingers start to get slick, and he brushed his thumb over the leaking slit as his tongue curled around Vinzent's fingers.

With a low growl, Vinzent pulled his fingers from Michael's mouth. Coupled with the way he leaned back a little, Michael didn't need any verbal commands, and the heavy hand on the back of his neck only made him get on his knees even faster than he was already going. He rested his hands briefly on Vinzent's spread thighs to steady himself, swaying from both the motion of the car and his slight intoxication (and maybe from not having any more blood left in his brain), then wrapped his fingers back around his cock. Jesus, was there anywhere this guy wasn't just thick? He watched his fingers slide slowly down, then back up the heavy shaft. Vinzent wasn't incredibly long, but he was far from small, and the pleasant girth filling his hand made Michael's stomach clench in anticipation as he thought about it filling much more than his hand. Vinzent grumbled lowly, his fingers threading slowly through Michael's head fur before grabbing tightly with a soft hiss as Michael's lips brushed against the head of his cock.

Mike's eyes flicked up to meet Vinzent's gaze as his tongue teasingly grazed the tip of his cock before his lips wrapped around the shaft in earnest. The gravelly moan that rumbled in Vinzent's chest sent small shivers racing down Michael's spine and he let his eyes flutter closed to better focus on the cock filling his mouth (and later, he hoped, his ass). Vinzent wasn't so big that Mike couldn't handle it, but definitely big enough that he could feel his jaw strain a little as he worked to keep his teeth clear of delicate flesh. He bobbed slow but eager, savoring both the heavy cock in his mouth and the small grunts that escaped Vinzent's throat every time he took him deep. And with years of cocksucking under his belt, Michael handled it like a pro, not gagging even when the tip bumped the back of his throat.

Vinzent breath quickened as Mike worked, his hand and mouth slowly picking up the pace, stroking faster, sucking harder. Thick fingers that had been simply threading gently through Michael's fur suddenly tightened, gripping him roughly and shoving his head down. Michael gasped in surprise, or at least his body wanted to; it was more of a strangled, choked yelp as Vinzent's cock shoved into his throat without warning. For a moment, all he could do was hang on for dear life and try not to suffocate as Vinzent roughly face-fucked him.

Air rushed into his grateful lungs when Vinzent eventually pulled him off, the breath coming out in a wet, wheezing hack as his head spun from both drink and oxygen deprivation. The hand never left his fur, just tightened and pulled harder, urging him to his feet. Michael lurched upward, clinging to the big German to keep from falling onto his ass as Vinzent yanked on his zipper with his free hand. Oh fuck. Mike's hands flew to his belt to help, yanking it undone and popping the button on his pants before shoving his bottoms down eagerly, his cock springing free in a way that would have been hilariously embarrassing if he'd been in any frame of mind to think about anything other than getting out of his pants as soon as possible. He swayed dangerously as he fumbled with his trousers, stumbling a little as he struggled to kick them off and managing only to get one foot free. Fuck it. Good enough.

Vinzent's hand finally left his fur and they both gripped his hips, turning him bodily before yanking him backward. Michael nearly fell into his lap with a yip, barely managing to keep his footing enough to straddle Vinzent's thighs rather than flop his ass onto them. One big paw let loose of his hip and slid slowly up his back, pushing him forward gently but firmly to the point that he had to grip Vinzent's knees for support.

"Good boy," Vinzent grumbled softly, letting his hand slide back down Michael's back. "Braver Hund."

Mike had no clue what the words meant, but the praising tone in Vinzent's voice sent shivers up his spine and made his cock jerk. A soft moan slid out of him when those strong hands grabbed first his hips, then his fuzzy ass, squeezing the cheeks appreciatively before spreading them as Mike's tail curled up and out of the way obediently. Vinzent grunted softly in what Michael could only assume was approval, then brushed his calloused thumbpad over his hole. Michael bit his lip and huffed gently, pushing back against it eagerly, almost desperately. Vinzent pressed a little harder, threatening to slide in but moving with Mike to keep it as just a teasing pressure before pulling away abruptly.

A small whine started to rise in Michael's throat, but it faded into a moan when a hot wad of spit hit his asscrack, just above his entrance. Oh fuck. Vinzent brushed the saliva down over his hole, working it in a slow circle before pulling away. Another hot glob of spit joined the first, this time landing right on target, and Vinzent's hands found Michael's hips again to pull him farther back into his lap. Something hot - much hotter than the saliva had been - brushed along the inside of his thigh, then against his asscheek, and the sober part of his brain woke up with a start. Shit. He wasn't going to -

Vinzent's cock lined up and slid home in one motion as he guided Michael back and down. A flash of pain ran up his spine, making him clench for a moment, but it faded fast the deeper Vinzent sank, thanks in large part to the alcohol pumping through his bloodstream. That sober part of him that sounded annoyingly like Fertita chided him that he knew better, and that presumably Vinzent knew better, and that he was absolutely going to be feeling this in the morning. He shut that part up and grabbed Vinzent's wrists with a soft exhalation. He didn't fucking care; with the way that thick cock was filling him, the sore ass later was absolutely worth it. And besides, it wasn't every day you got to fuck one of the world's most dangerous anthros.

A shiver ran through him as Vinzent bottomed out. Filling him up had been an understatement; Vinzent wasn't the longest dick he'd ever taken, but length wasn't everything, and the pressure on his prostate was making him see stars. Michael gasped out a soft "fuck", and Vinzent wrapped those strong arms around his chest, pulling him close so the bear's teeth could nip at his ear and neck.

"Ja, Liebchen? Sehr gut? Is good?" he asked softly, shifting his hips slowly.

Michael's eyes fluttered and he nodded, his hands resting on Vinzent's forearms as his hips started to move in rhythm with the bear's. "Ja," he groaned, unintentionally mimicking Vinzent's accent. "Really fuckin' good."

Vinzent chuckled, quiet and smug, and gave Michael's ear a bite as he started to rock up into him harder. Michael moaned, letting his head fall back onto Vinzent's broad shoulder as he rode him, Vinzent's strong arms supporting him and helping to lift him up off his lap before letting him crash back down. There was a low burn in his ass and in his thighs, but it completely stopped registering when Vinzent's hand wrapped around his cock and began to stroke almost absentmindedly, avoiding his swelling knot and more idly playing with him than making an effort to get him off. It was nice, the rough paw pads on his dick, Vinzent's firm heat at his back, the muttered half English, half German expletives and dirty talk that was mostly to himself as his free hand ran lustily over Michael's chest and stomach.

Mike's head felt light, like it was buoyed up by the heat filling his lungs and slowly, steadily building in his belly, and he pushed himself up and away a little to get better leverage. Vinzent picked up the pace, thrusting into Mike harder than before, hands ceasing their roaming to instead grip Mike's hips. God, he was hitting all those spots just right, and stars started to splash the edges of his vision as hot sparks flickered up his spine more and more. Fuck. Part of him wanted to hold back, to savor it more, but the liquor in his head and the way is just felt so damn good slapped away any inhibitions he might have had and spurred him on, urging him to impale himself on Vinzent's cock more and more, harder and faster and more desperate, tension and heat building until he couldn't take it anymore.

It snapped and he came with a hoarse shout, one hand on the ceiling of the limo bracing himself and the other on Vinzent's wrist, claws digging into his skin painfully and thoughtlessly. The muscles in his thighs quivered and twitched uncontrollably, making his motions awkward as he jerkily slowed to a halt, panting hard and his vision fuzzy at the edges. Vinzent's hands squeezed his hips, then slowly ran up his front, smearing cum into his fur.

Before Michael could catch his breath, though, Vinzent's arms wrapped around him and pulled him tight to his chest with a snarl. His vision went white as Vinzent started to thrust again, hard and rough and uncaring. It was sharp, too much, that oversensitive pain underlaid with pleasure that left him whining and squirming in Vinzent's grasp. Each thrust ended with a flash of white across Michael's closed lids. Teeth met his neck, gentle nips at first, then harder bites mixed with feral growls. Mike's head was spinning, and it dropped back onto Vinzent's shoulder again as he held on for dear life, claws dug into his thick forearms and his vision filled with stars. Electricity prickled tightly all over his skin, making him feel full of static like television snow.

Very far away, he could hear Vinzent's groaning mix with hoarse pants, feel his thrusts grow erratic, and, oddly, just as far away but within himself, felt the fluttering of his stomach muscles and a faint pulsing in his knot, almost like he'd cum a second time. His head was spinning far too fast to make sense of it, though. Vinzent gave a few more hard thrusts, letting out a short, harsh expletive with each one before climaxing with a throttled shout. He held Mike close for a moment, shaking a little as his cock throbbed in his ass. Then those big paws began to roam over Michael's chest and belly almost tenderly as Vinzent's orgasm shuddered out its final gasps, the harsh breathing in Michael's ear turned to soft German nothings.

Vaguely, Michael was aware that the limo had stopped, but it didn't fully register until Vinzent gave his ass a light smack.

"This is your stop, Liebchen," Vinzent mumbled in his ear, giving it a playful bite.

Reality came crashing back down on Michael hard and he had to wrench his eyes open, lids heavy from both booze and sex. Vinzent didn't seem to be rushing him, so he took his time in slowly pulling himself out of his lap. His legs felt like jelly and his ass burned, and as he woozily found his feet, he could feel a hot line of cum drip down his thigh, soaking his fur. He pulled his pants back on with a wince, not bothering with the zipper or even the belt, and went to do up his shirt, only to remember that Vinzent had ripped the buttons clean off earlier. Shit. He was a mess, with cum all over his chest and stomach, and he wasn't the only one. Vinzent's pants had gotten caught in the crossfire, but the limo had taken the brunt of Michael's load, and he felt hot shame creep up his neck as he noticed splatters on the floor and ceiling.

Vinzent either didn't notice or didn't care, the bear idly wiping himself down with a handkerchief. Michael clutched his shirt closed awkwardly and fumbled out the door. Luckily, there was no one around to gawk at him as he did his walk of shame up to his apartment.

"Thanks for the ride," he said as he shut the door, almost a little too quickly.

Behind him, the window hummed open, and he turned to find Vinzent leaning out of it, elbow on the sill and half-hard cock still laid on his thigh.

"We should do this again sometime," he grinned.

He gave a little wave for Michael to come close, and when he did, he took the young borzoi's chin in his hand and laid a surprisingly tender kiss on his lips before rolling the window back up. Michael stood dumbstruck on the sidewalk, staring at his reflection in the mirrored glass for a moment before awkwardly heading up the stairs to his apartment. Miraculously, he staggered only a little, though whether it was from drink or from being fucked he couldn't be sure. That voice that sounded like Fertita berated him for being so reckless and told him he was going to regret all of this later, but he shoved it aside and stumbled through the door. He didn't even notice his mudi roommate Jon gaping at him from the couch as he shuffled through the living room and into his room to collapse face-first onto his bed with a low groan.

Some time later, a soft knock sounded on his door.

"Hey, buddy, you good?" Jon asked, pushing the door open and peeking his curly, soft brown muzzle in.

Michael didn't look up, just lifted up a paw and gave him a thumbs up. Jon winced a little and slowly shut the door, then came back a few minutes later and set a glass of water and some aspirin on Mike's nightstand. He knew that look, and Michael was going to need both of those later. He didn't know who had worked his roommate over like this, but he'd worked him over good, and Jon gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder before leaving him to recover in peace.

As he passed by the window in the living room, the mudi noticed a familiar limo slip away from the front of the building. Hmm. The boss wasn't going to like that at all.