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Suno shoved his hands into his pockets and looked up at the sky - or at least, what of the sky that he could see. Tall buildings reached up in all directions, leaving a swathe of greyish-blue between them only about as wide as the road directly underneath. He had gotten to the point where he could tell which street he was on, even in a city as confusing as this, just by looking at which skyscrapers surrounding him.

He had been doing a lot of wandering lately. More than he used to. There had been a bit of a change recently.

Thing was, Suno couldn't really remember what had changed. He remembered waking up in early afternoon, like usual; he remembered sneaking into a bar with some of his older friends, like usual; he remembered then stumbling out of that bar and making his way toward a favorite spot of his, in an odd side-street alleyway, like usual. But, from there…

...he wouldn't admit it to himself, to be frank. Part of him actually couldn't remember it, and then part of him didn't want to.

To put it simply, one of his main inspirations to make it through the day and into the next was this fairly large black-furred dog, one without a collar - like all the other strays in this city. This particular dog was special, though. Suno used to go to that spot most days, and either the dog would be waiting there for him, on the back stoop for one of the buildings, or he'd sit there alone for a few minutes and then hear the familiar tapping of blunted claws on the cement of the street.

Blacky; that's what Suno called him. Not the most creative of names, but the dog responded to it: his ears would perk, his tail would wag a little, his yellow eyes would seem to light up. Really, though, most of those happened whenever Suno said something to him, not just his name; he'd sit there on one of the upper steps with the dog's muzzle in his lap, hand scratching behind one of his ears or stroking the smooth fur of his back, and he'd be talking and complaining about his life, his father, his friends - all the things that he didn't want to tell anybody else - and Blacky would patiently and politely listen.

That's what it seemed like, at least. Suno started to think of Blacky as a better friend than the group he hung out with during the day, the group who would drag him around from bar to club to bar, and who would wait until the fall of night so they could all run into someone at once, lift their purse or wallet or whatever they had, and then split off in multiple directions, so the victim didn't know who to follow. Admittedly, Suno would have been a little more okay with that last one, if he had ever been given some cut of the money from the times they had done it in the past.

And when all of that got too much, when he could no longer handle the weight of his father's shaming, and the knowledge of everything bad he'd done, and his concerns with whether he'd ever find someone he could actually call a 'friend'... he would go back to that spot on the side-street, and sure enough, Blacky would show up eventually, as if he could pick up Suno's unease from anywhere in the city. Suno would sit down on the steps, he'd let Blacky rest his muzzle in his lap, and if he didn't feel like talking, he'd just sit there and pet the dog, watching the stirring of his chest and the way his tail flicked around.

Suno lowered his head as he walked, and fixed his eyes on the sidewalk. That very side-street was coming up just at the end of this block, and he couldn't bear to look down it again. It had been a little over two weeks since what had happened, and every time - every damn time - he came by here, he had to resist the temptation to glance down that alley, had to keep himself from turning and starting towards the stoop at the back corner. The first week was the hardest: seeing bright, happy yellow eyes, hearing that familiar bark, which then turned into a lonely whine as Blacky noticed that Suno would not be staying that day… and then the next, and the next, and the next…

Tonight, he wouldn't be hanging out with his usual group. Between some of the buildings, along the distant horizon, the blue-grey of the sky melded to a sweet reddish-orange as the sunset approached; Suno had been awake for maybe three hours, and already he wanted to go back to sleep. Tonight, he would rather go home and bear the sharp words and bruising touch of his father than spend any time with his friends. Besides, he didn't want them to think that - that, maybe, he'd been crying…

Over the noise of cars driving by, the loud hissing of a bus's brakes, all the rumbling conversation of everyone else on the streets at this time, he thought he could hear the sound of a dog barking for his attention. He picked up his pace a little.

~ ~ ~

The dog lay his head back down, touching his chin to the cool stone of the stoop. Try as he might to hold out hope, it didn't look like Suno would be coming back to him. Such an odd thing: he felt a mix of regret, aggression, disappointment, anger, and full sadness, all at the same time, and he still hadn't yet figured out if what had happened was his fault or Suno's. Of course, it had taken him about the whole of the first week of Suno's ignoring him for the dog to pinpoint the source of the boy's avoidance. To him, it hadn't been something deserving of shame. Hell, it had been one of the best things to happen to him in a long time.

So Suno had gotten drunk. Very drunk. That happened fairly often; nothing strange there. So he had come back to this side-street, this meeting spot of theirs for the past year and a half or so. Spend a year and a half with someone, someone who touches you in all the right places to make your tail wag and your leg kick; someone whose scent causes your heart to pick up and your tongue to loll out of your muzzle, even when that scent had been buried beneath the tang of alcohol, the bite of cigarette smoke; someone who lets down their tough, rugged mask and shows to you who they really are, what they really feel… spend a year and a half with that someone, and certainly some manner of feelings are bound to blossom. This dog had been feeling those feelings for quite a while, and on that one night, he'd finally decided to act on them.

Maybe he had been a little more forceful than he should have, but Suno certainly didn't seem to mind when he felt the dog's nose shoved up between his legs. He complained and wriggled a little at first, but quickly gave in; and then, the noises that came out of him when it was then a tongue between his legs, with no pants zipper or fabric of underwear between that tongue and his notably hard length, were certainly not noises of discomfort or reluctance; and, how he'd moaned, how he'd gasped and sweetly whined like a bitch in heat, then, when he actually bent over for the dog to mount him, on all fours with his legs slightly spread… not only that, but he'd lain down on the stoop and held his arm out for the dog to lie with him, and the two spent the night together there. Suno had never done that before.

And, at this rate, he'd never do it again. Such emotional upset, such sharp disappointment and something bordering on heartbreak… at times, it culminated in enough to almost throw off the dog's focus and make him shift back to his original form - since, after all, he was only a dog most of the time. Back home (which he did have; he just enjoyed the endearing way that Suno called him a 'stray' - or at least, as he used to call him), he was known as Cho, somewhat quiet black-haired adopted nineteen-year-old. His family just assumed that he spent his days out at school, and then staying at the library in the evenings - and on nights, sometimes he'd sneak out of his bedroom window, hide his clothes underneath one of the bushes out front, shift into his form of Blacky the street mutt, and run off.

Staying out late had lost some of its appeal, though, and Cho found that, this past week, he was spending a lot more time as a human than he used to. One time, as a human, he even waited at his meeting spot with Suno along that back alley… and wasn't even noticed. He had seen Suno walk by, but the blonde-headed teen didn't look his way, and instead just kept on going.

Before meeting Suno that year and a half ago, Cho hadn't ever thought of a name for himself while being a dog. It simply hadn't been important. However, as their friendship grew and advanced, he thought more and more of himself as Blacky instead of Cho, since - that's who he was most of the time. Large, friendly, black-furred stray, whose only real friend and companion was Suno, that slightly misguided teen who seemed like he only pretended to be a hooligan in order to impress the people he hung out with.

Suno, who had neither spoken to nor spent any time with Blacky - or, Cho. He didn't know of the dog's true identity, and Cho intended to keep it that way. However, these two weeks had felt like the longest of his life so far, and he no longer knew who he'd prefer to be. Being a dog used to be exactly as carefree and relaxing as it seemed, where he could run and run and barely worry about tiring himself out; where he could pad up to a young couple and get some nice pets on his head and maybe a snack - though, there was the occasional person who would try to kick at him; he could go exploring in places of the city that would get him arrested as a human; and the whole thing with Suno, where he could show his affection and receive only similar affection in turn - as Suno always strongly enforced that he was completely and totally straight, one hundred percent, and would never enjoy or even consider doing anything with another guy-

-but dogs were okay, apparently. Or so Cho had thought. Being Blacky used to bring relief for the stress and anxiety of everyday life, but now, he found that it actually multiplied those bad feelings. Whether it was he himself who was the problem or Suno, he couldn't yet tell. That would come in time.

Cho - Blacky - had waited a year and a half to get that close to that damn boy, and he'd wait that long again to get him back.

The dog huffed gently to himself and closed his eyes. Looked like he'd be alone on this stoop again tonight. For the past three, he had gone home before the moon had risen to its zenith; maybe tonight, he'd leave a little earlier.

~ ~ ~

He made sure to pass by the nearby park on his way back home later in the night, as seeing the verdure of the trees, the well-maintained shrubs and bushes, and the flowers able to somehow survive breathing the ever-present smog of the city brought him at least some manner of comfort. Things like that were hit-or-miss as a dog: sure, he couldn't exactly see all of the colors, or most of them, but he could pick up the scent of fresh grass and the unmistakable deep perfume of the flowers so much better.

Of course, there was also the acrid bite of car exhaust, street food, cigarette smoke, hot street tar, and who knows whatever else underneath those sweet scents, too. The park was actually where he used to sleep at night before he met Suno, if he didn't want to shift back into a human to go home - there was this perfect spot underneath one of the bushes at the southeastern corner of the place, right up against the side of a building with an alley just wide enough for him to slip into if needed. However, the last time he had gone there, there had been some scruffy hobo or another loudly snoring in that spot. One time, one of them had just been lying down to go to sleep when he arrived… and upon seeing the dog, rummaged around in his tattered backpack, pulled out a rusty knife, and lunged. Cho had decided to go home that night.

The big metal gates to the park entrance had already been drawn shut and locked; that meant it was already approaching midnight. Even despite that, he could still see some flickering light from further back in the park - and when he lifted his nose to the air, he picked up the scents of quite a few people. Already he could tell that they had been drinking, and heavily. Even with that, though, there was something about this myriad scent that made his ears perk - even the one that was always flopped over - and tail stir…

Before he really knew what he was doing, the dog had padded off the sidewalk and over towards a broken spot in the wrought-iron fence surrounding most of the park, hidden underneath a thick bush. He knew for a fact that he was not the only creature to sneak in through here; under the cover of night, as much as that meant with all the lights of the buildings and streetlamps eternally blaring, his black fur helped him to remain undetected. The kind of person who would intentionally trespass on a place like this, other than the occasional delinquent schoolkid looking for somewhere sneaky to smoke his weed, probably wasn't the kind of person who Cho would want to see him. Especially if they were drunk.

He had come this way many times before, and as such, knew where to follow the bushes to remain hidden. The sharp odor of alcohol, now mixed with cigarette smoke, drew stronger - just as the noise of the group's conversation did, too. There were several of them, at least five or six, all clustered around a bench near the pond in the middle of the park; the standing lamp overhead had gone out, leaving only the lights of their cell phones to illuminate them. At least this was something to take his mind off things, even if the group did give him a bad feeling - Cho could feel the back of his neck bristling, and instinctively shifted his position so he could spring out and flee if needed.

However, right as he nosed his way underneath the bush nearest the bench, the group broke apart and went their separate ways, though one of them remained on the bench. Cho lifted his head and listened: one of the groups that had split off laughed raucously among themselves and seemed to be reliving some event that had happened earlier in the night, apparently at a bar or club or something. Perhaps that was why this one of them lay on the bench, one arm hanging over the edge.

“...Such a fuckin' lightweight," Cho heard. He moved forward, out of the bush a little. This person on the bench had smooth, pale skin, and blond hair atop his head, styled into spikes. His heart sped up a little. “What was he tryna do? Usually he's the one that drops out first, the one that always bitches - waah, I can't get too drunk, my dad'll kill me, waah - and then here 'e is tonight, another, another, another - could you believe him? The way he talked to that one chick? 'Ey! Bitch! Pass me that glass! Jesus Christ…"

Cho didn't want to believe it, but sure enough, the closer he got… this was Suno lying here on this bench, eyes closed and mouth half-open. The smell wafting off of him - he had vomited at least once, and had done more than drink. The heavy odor of alcohol and bile came out on every shuddering exhalation of his, the tang of cigarette smoke and marijuana clung to his clothes, and his hand hanging off the bench - Cho couldn't resist leaning forward and sniffing at it - carried the artificial fruit-and-chemical aroma of a strong energy drink.

But still, beneath all of that, this was still definitely Suno. And it was Suno's natural scent that always ignited a little burning flame in the dog's heart - and his loins, after this last time. He brought his tongue back into his mouth, swallowed, nuzzled at the hand again, closed his eyes… one more night; only one more night-

“What the - fuck-"

First it was that hand underneath his nose that stirred, and then the rest of Suno's body - or, he tried to, at least. Apparently he had slumped over on this bench because he couldn't really move anywhere else: upon trying to pull himself up into a sitting position, his hand slipped off the edge of the bench and caused him to fall back down, as well as knock his head against the back of the bench. The boy groaned, squirmed, and raised his hands to his temples for a moment; Cho stepped back. Such an odd feeling: seeing Suno here so close, being able to taste his familiar scent on the air, made his tail want to flick and wag - but looking at his face, his current state, made it want to curl down between his hind legs.

He remembered with stunning clarity that one night two weeks ago when it had been Suno's hand reaching between his hind legs, touching him for the first time, feeling the dog's heat, his need-

Those eyes flicked open again, and took a moment in attempting to focus on the black shadow in front of him. Suno bit back a rumbling belch and tried to sit up again. “No. Oh, no, no. Not you. Can't y' - can't you take a hint, dog?"

At least he was okay. Blackout drunk, sure, but okay; Cho let his tongue flop out of his mouth. Sure, Suno had mistreated him a bit, but - well. The boy made him happy; that's all there was to it. And, besides, after two weeks of absolutely no contact following what had happened that one night… to put it simply, the dog had been a little neglected.

“I don' - want to see you." Suno reached up to wipe at his mouth, but missed, and ended up just hitting the side of his hand against his cheek. Looked like he was unable to keep his eyes open for too long. “God, my - head… I don't want to know you, anymore. Yeah? Understand?"

Cho did understand, but he wouldn't let on that he did. Slowly, he took a few steps closer; Suno's shoes had fallen off, one of them lying on its side beneath the bench and the other a few feet away, in the middle of the path. Cho considered going to fetch it, just to show the boy that he forgave him… and, besides, there was the thing he had about Suno's scent. Even being here, this close to him, was enough to keep the dog excited in more ways than one. Each time the boy moved, Cho could pick up his scent just a little stronger on the air underneath everything else that tainted it, and - before long, he would have to consciously put in effort to keep himself from humping at the air.

After all, the main way he had comforted himself these past two weeks was to relive what had happened that night, usually in the comfort of his own room at home with his door closed and clothes off. If anything, his want for Suno had only further grown.

When apart from him, Cho could think fairly clearly - he could think through all that had happened, and properly respond to the new developments in circumstances and anything else that changed. However, place the dog within a few feet of Suno, and all of that went out the window, to be replaced by the same mix of electric feelings that had rippled through him two weeks ago: love, desire, want, affection. Suno still blathered on and complained at him, but Cho wasn't listening.

“Dumbass - fuckin' - dog- get outta here!"

Suno kept himself propped up with one arm, which he then raised to wave Cho away. As a result, he fell over onto his shoulder on the bench again, and groaned.

“Fuck - look, I don't - don't want to rem'ber what happened, okay? I'm - ashamed, and I don't want- I don't…"

Breathing labored with exhausting became even more unsteady; his voice cracked; he rolled over onto his other side, facing the back of the bench, and pulled his arms up in front of him, as his body shook gently. Cho sat down where he stood, head slightly tilted. At least he admitted that it had happened.

“...Look," the teen went on after a while. Still he did not face Cho. “It was a - a mistake. Alright? You get that? I was - drunk, and… God, fuck me, I can't - think straight… just… leave me alone, okay?"

He rolled back over, but didn't make eye contact. Cho stood up and wagged his tail… but then stopped when he noticed the track of tears running from the corner of Suno's eye, cutting cleanly through the thin layer of dirt on his face.

“You've made me make enough bad decisions. Go the fuck away before I make another one."

And he turned back to the bench, pulled his legs up toward his body a little, and went quiet, other than the occasional cough or unsteady groan. All Cho wanted was to see him feel better… and, even hearing his words, he could tell that he still cared, too.

That was the thing about Suno. He hardly ever said what he really felt. There was no doubt that he had enjoyed what had happened, just as much as Cho did - or maybe even more.

The fire that burnt between the dog's hind legs was desire; the fire that burnt in his heart was hope. He stepped forward, crouched down underneath the bench, and curled up near one of the legs, listening to Suno's unsteady breathing above him.

~ ~ ~

Suno's eyes flicked open - but, just as they did, a powerful jolt of pain throbbed through his head and forced them closed again. His hands came up to his head, he tried to roll onto his side, tried to pull his legs up closer to his chest - but found that a heavy weight on his lower body prevented him from doing so. Just what, though, he couldn't tell, and his head hurt too much for him to focus on seeing what it was. Maybe one of his friends had left a backpack full of supplies on him; they had just dumped him here.

They'd done so by his request, though, as he did not want to go home to his father when he could hardly walk, much less think straight. Hell, he was surprised that he'd managed to get across that that was what he'd wanted; he could just barely remember them laughing at him, at how he had to hold tightly onto one on either side of him and still dragged his feet, how he puked four times on the way here…

Swallowing down the pain and another wave of nausea, he cracked his eyes open again and looked up to the sky. It was still night, or at least very early dawn, given the deep, flat greyish-blue above, and lack of either stars or the first rays of sunlight. Keeping his eyes open for too long just aggravated his headache, but - this thing on his legs, heavy, lumpy in places and soft in others, held his curiosity. So, Suno wiped his hand across his mouth, closed his eyes for a moment, then reached down-

-and then jerked his arm back when something warm, flat, and slightly moist flicked out across his fingers.

“What the - fuck-"

When he opened his eyes again and actually looked at the thing across his legs, at first, he wasn't sure what to do or think. A pair of yellow eyes shining back at him from a black-furred muzzle - the same yellow eyes that had looked expectantly up at him right before he'd passed out earlier. The same yellow eyes that he'd looked into when saying - when saying…

“Oh, no. No, no, no…"

This time Blacky didn't seem to understand, or at least, he ignored the boy. The dog held eye contact with him for a moment longer, and then lowered his muzzle back down - which put his nose directly against the bulge in the front of Suno's pants. His fly still remained open from when he'd undone it earlier in the night after drinking too much, and of course Blacky took that to his own advantage, shortly slipping his nose into the gap and against Suno's warmth through his boxers.

“No!" He tried to sit up, felt another sharp burst of pain shoot through the back of his head, and fell back down. “Get the fuck - away from me-"

But then, a low, rumbling growl reached his ears, and when he managed to open his eyes again, Blacky's lips had curled back in a snarl. Sharp whitish fangs glistening in the ever-present dim light of the city, the top of his muzzle furrowed with his growl - and he pressed one paw rather firmly against Suno's upper thigh, blunted claws digging into his skin through the material of his pants.

Every time he tried moving, he was just met with more resistance, more power: Blacky snapped his teeth at him once, then lowered his muzzle down, and Suno honestly briefly feared for his life, or at least a large part of it - but then actually breathed a sigh of relief when those teeth chomped down on the waistband of his pants and tugged them down a bit. The damn dog knew what he wanted.

So he was expecting this to go like last time, right? Suno fought against the throbbing in his head, the pain of Blacky's claws digging against his leg, the general malaise of his overindulgence this last night, and squirmed underneath the beast - but of course found that he could do nothing. It was as if Blacky could tell that he was trying to escape, and as if the dog purposely did not want him to. Like he wanted to teach him something.

“Get away from me!" His heart jumped into his throat, and he repeatedly swung his arms down in attempts to bat at the dog, to push him off of himself… though part of him wouldn't let him hit Blacky too hard. He didn't want to hurt him. Again and again the dog growled and pulled on his pants, wrenching them down his legs a little further; again and again Blacky readjusted his position, shoving his nose against Suno's lower body, or into the heat of his crotch through his underwear, or against the small area of his pubes that could already be seen underneath the waistband. With his pants halfway down his thighs, Blacky's claws now pulled at his boxers; any more strongly, and he'd tear them off…

The thing that surprised him the most, though, was how damn strong this dog was. Every time Suno tried to lift himself up to get away, Blacky's paw on his leg actually ended up pulling him down a little, bit by bit, towards the end of the bench. It also didn't help that his hands had no traction on the odd material of the bench, moistened slightly with the dew of pre-dawn and his own sweat. It felt almost like - like Blacky intentionally pulled him down, until first his ankles hung off the bench, and then his legs past his knees-

And, then, the dog suddenly hopped down to the concrete sidewalk. Suno was so surprised by the sudden change, he couldn't think of a thing to do: his heart still pounded in his throat, the chill of morning still bit into his revealed skin, and he could still feel the slight pain from Blacky's paw that had just been digging into his thigh. Maybe his resistance and complaining had finally gotten through to the damn beast - in the past, Blacky had seemed to be able to understand him so well, so it was good to see that he had chosen to do so again.

Just as Suno started to prop himself up on his elbows, though, he felt the soft warmth of the dog's body brushing past his legs over the edge of the bench, and then, Blacky jumped back up. This time, however, the dog's hind legs remained on the ground, and with his forepaws clawing against Suno's belly, he walked himself forward and - and started thrusting, again and again, just like he'd done in the past. Suno didn't know what to do: his head hurt too damn much for him to put too much effort into moving, and besides, this dog was at least as strong as him. There was no way he'd be able to kick him off.

“Blacky - no, shit, stop - don't you fucking dare-"

Yellow eyes glittered up at him, again that muzzle wrinkled in a quiet snarl, those paws dug harshly into his sides - and he fell silent. He didn't even notice the approaching moist heat of the tapered end of Blacky's cock coming closer and closer to him with each thrust. Blacky pressed his chin against Suno's belly, slightly shifting his position until it was perfect.

Though maybe perfect wasn't quite the right word for it. Suno gripped at Blacky's arms, feeling the tension in his muscles, the warmth of his body, the urgency in his thrusts. He swallowed, he gritted his teeth, he squeezed his legs around the dog in attempts to kick him off…

...but instead only succeeded in bringing him closer. First it was a light kiss against his rump, something warm and wet and soft, and then - sudden pain as Blacky's cock found its mark and started to pump into him. Discomfort and another wave of nausea shot through him, and Suno let out a loud groan through clenched teeth, right before placing his hand firmly into the fluff of Blacky's chest.

Try as he might, he couldn't get out a single word, and each attempt to push Blacky away only resulted in the dog pressing more firmly forward, sinking deeper and deeper into him. Suno squirmed and gasped, remembering the last time this had happened - how he had writhed and complained just like this, how he had gritted his teeth, how he'd arched his back and - and-

-and how he'd let out a low, shuddering moan as soon as he felt the wide bulge of Blacky's knot threatening to stretch him, the intense pain now mirrored with just-as-intense pleasure, pulsing deep inside him. His hand on Blacky's chest loosened and moved down to the dog's foreleg, holding him in place and pulling him forward a little. Sure, his head pounded - close to the same rhythm with which Blacky pounded him - and more than a few sharp pains jolted through him again and again, but - God - it felt good. It was just like last time.

Just like last time…

“Shit, shit, shit…" Suno managed to whisper, but there was no force behind the words. He lifted his rump up off the edge of the bench, allowing Blacky to hump into him faster and easier… and, God, did Suno love it. He forgot about everything he'd said earlier in the night, forgot about all the shit he'd done with his street group and everything else he'd planned for later; all that mattered was here, and now, and himself and this dog… the thought of that, of this, fucked with his mind something serious, but he absolutely did not feel like thinking at this time.

He flicked his tongue over his lips, swallowed, and lowered his rump back down to the bench. Blacky's ears flattened down and his eyes flicked shut, then, as he changed the rhythm of his thrusts to something faster, something shallower; Suno could feel each burst of energy against him and through the raspy exhalations of breath across his chest, especially after he tugged his shirt up. He enjoyed the feeling of Blacky's chin pressed against him, and enjoyed how he could feel the dog's fast heartbeat and unsteady breaths.

So this was why Blacky had stuck around so persistently. It was just a matter of want, of desire… Suno lifted up against the dog, intentionally pressing his own already-hard cock against the soft heat of Blacky's belly and grinding up against him against the rhythm of the dog's thrusting. There was just something about having him pulsing so deep in him, of feeling his hard shaft press up into him, pull back out, sink up into him again - with that sweet warmth and moisture, and the faint scent that tickled at his nose every now and then. A scent reminiscent of the familiar wet dog smell, but sharper, muskier, heavier - and it just made Suno tingle all over.

Hell, it didn't even occur to him that he let this dog breed him like a proper bitch, right here on a bench in a public park. Suno let moan after moan out of his slightly-parted lips, his other arm finding its way up around Blacky's body and squeezing the dog more firmly against him. Two weeks of loneliness, of anxiety and self-hate, and - all he needed to feel better was the very thing that he was trying to avoid.

And, oh, did Blacky make him feel good. Admittedly, something deep inside Suno had resonated as soon as he'd seen those familiar yellow eyes approaching him earlier, something that he had forced himself to ignore and push back down. And, now, that same thing pulsed in his chest again and again, with each thrust into him, with each hot exhalation of breath over his chest, with each sweet wave of pleasure as he came closer and closer to his own climax.

It was need. Suno realized, holding Blacky close to him as the dog pounded into him, that he had needed this. He had needed Blacky.

“Ah - God-"

Right as Suno felt the bright, hot pleasure of his orgasm start to shoot through him - and then shoot out over the fur of Blacky's belly as well as his chest - the dog also squeezed onto him, gave voice to another low growl, and lifted up into him, putting quite a bit more force into one final thrust. Suno's gasping moan turned to one of pain, then, as he felt the dog's wide knot force its way into him - and he couldn't hold back a rather loud yelp in response to the sudden pressure, the sudden sharp pain similar to when Blacky had first forced his way into him.

And, then, he slouched back on the bench, chest rising and falling in unsteady breaths and head yet again pounding, which he had forgotten while in the midst of their bonding. His eyes remained closed, as they had been through his peak; Suno swallowed, tried to lift himself up, failed, and resigned himself to lie there with this dog between his legs.

“Blacky…"

The dog's ears perked, but his eyes remained half-lidded. Looked like he had enjoyed it as much as Suno.

“Why'd you come back to me? Huh?"

It felt strange - being wrapped in such silence after all the noise of him bumping against the bench, of both his heavy breathing and Blacky's, of his heartbeat thrumming in his ear and his panting moans. A gentle breeze rustled through the trees and bushes around the park, and for the first time since this had started, Suno felt the heat of embarrassment warm his cheeks. How long is are we gonna stay like this…?

“After everything I said to you earlier… after two weeks of me ignorin' you… you still came back to me, you still…"

...forcibly pulled my pants off and started humping me like - like a-

His embarrassment now came from something other than the thought of being seen. Blacky's eyes opened; his ears came back up; and the two of them just looked at each other for a few quiet seconds, the only noise in the night after the breeze died down being their breathing.

“You still love me."

Blacky shifted his position a little, wagged his tail, tried to move up Suno's body a bit - which just ended up in the boy sucking in another sharp gasp, at the feeling of his knot tugging at him - and licked at his shoulder. Almost as if he understood.

Suno gave an experimental pull to Blacky's knot, but the wave of pain let him know that it would still be a while. He leaned his head back to look around, trying to see if there was anyone around.

“Well… I guess I can go home tomorrow, and… stay here with you tonight…"

Blacky licked at his shoulder again. In response, Suno leaned down, touched his nose against the dog's for a quick moment, and then lay back.

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He could just barely begin to see the color of sunrise on the sky.

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