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A very particular slam of the front door brought a very particular sigh from Sasha. The Doberman closed his eyes, trying to sink back into his chair and dominate as much of his range of vision with his book and ignore the shuffling, thumping figure advancing upon him.

He knew his roommate. Right now, his liver was working against the last of innumerable cans of cheap beer he and his buddies had shared, his wallet was hurting from paying for the cab home after his buddies wrestled his keys from him, and his knuckles and jaw were sore after he'd picked a fight or two and misjudged his aim. And worst of all, he'd be smelling of half a dozen makes of cheap perfume after grinding up on a dozen or so barflies at the faux biker bar he'd hoped to bury his bone in this evening. If his class and taste were as astute drunk as sober, Sasha knew he'd be walking home blue. Maybe if the Doberman held his breath he could-

"Sashaaa..."

A silent wince and a sigh, and Sasha rested his face in the pages of his book.

"Yes, Donnel?"

After letting out a dismissive, grunting sound that trailed into a burp and cough, Donnel stumbled into view, leaning haphazardly into the living room. "I told you...just call me Don...fuck, you sound like my grandma."

Sasha sighed, and removed his face from the protective shield of his book to glance at the fellow dog. Don was a Pitbull, a species that usually inspired feelings of fear and authority. Indeed, with his close-cropped headfur, muscled arms, and stocky build, it was likely he got plenty of frightened looks from strangers. But after enough months of knowing each other, Sasha really only saw the soft facial features, the slight paunch, and the slightly tired eyes. Don was handsome to some, but Sasha was mostly unimpressed. He didn't dislike his roommate, but he wasn't willing to elevate him to the Adonis level that the Pitbull liked to believe he stood at.

Conversely, the Doberman considered himself relatively unassuming. He was not insecure in his looks, he was happy with the slight ripple of athletic muscle lining his lanky frame, the long locks of silky hair that tickled his shoulders that put him a bit apart from the coal and peat pattern he shared with all his fellow breed. And yet, he never felt like he'd stand out in a crowd. Soft-spoken and occasionally sarcastic, he stood out in stark contrast with his brash roommate. The only thing they shared was a similar taste in music, a preference for the same pizza service, and for whatever reason, an apartment.

Well, perhaps they shared one other taste, but that was far from Sasha's mind as he sighed.

"Long night, I guess?"

"Too short!" Don barked, clinking and rustling around in the fridge for something to bring back his buzz. "Only saw three bands play...still have plenty of money, still could handle more. It was a good week at the shop, I was ready to live a little! Everyone was too busy fuckin' hooking up to keep the party going." His head quickly popped up, a confident smile plastered on his muzzle before he filled it with a cold one. "Lot of great tail out too...guess I smelled like oil too much, scared those prissy bitches off. Man, I had this one piece of cute beagle on the hook too, then Randy had to pull me off with all this 'you need to go, you've had enough' bull..." A sullen growl, and another glug. "Hell, fucker's probably hitting that right now. Bet that cocksucker's doing it in my Mustang too."

Throughout the diatribe, Sasha was rolling his eyes hard enough to inspect his own brain. He groaned softly as he heard the first empty can missing the bin and hitting the floor, and then buried his face in the book again as he heard Don open his second cold one.

"That's a real shame, man," Sasha called out, voice noncommittal. "Hope you can...party hardy...the next time. In the meantime, you probably should go for a shower. And then go to bed, right to bed. And have a big, long sleep."

"You kidding? I'll be awake for days. Fuckin' Vodka Red Bulls, man. It was a special tonight."

"Oh...well, I believe in you!" Sasha murmured, putting on his best Go Team! voice. "You can put your mind to anything. Sounds like you need to relax, anyway!"

Donnel stopped mid-slurp, smacking his lips and pondering something thoughtfully, before setting the can down. He turned himself around and lumbered toward Sasha, his grumpy glare replaced with a curious smile. The Doberman met that gaze with a raised eyebrow as the Pitbull got closer and closer, until Don was standing right next to him. Sasha blinked, his face now crotch-level to a pair of stained jeans. He tried to speak, but a heavy paw landed on his head, claws landing between his ears and combing through his long hair with the grace of a finger-painting toddler.

The dog's slightly slurred speech dropped to a husky whisper.

"You know...there is something you could do to help me with that. Help a dog relax...what do you say? You know you want-"

With an annoyed grunt, Sasha brushed the lumbering paw away and glared up at him.

"Look, go take a fucking shower and call it a night. You smell like someone torched a junior prom."

A gruff, rude snort, and the Pitbull stomped away, wiping his paws on his jeans as he disappeared into the bathroom. Sasha glared at the door even after it clicked shut, before shaking his head. He thumbed through his book, trying to find his chapter again, when something hit his nose. Something different. He turned his head, and his eyes widened. There was the faintest hint of musk left over from where the Pitbull stood. Thick, warm, canine. As if on instinct, he took in a big sniff, and he was annoyed to feel his mouth water just a little. Whatever was in him had been programmed to react a very particular way to that scent, and while his mind was still dismissive, his body had a different reaction. Sasha sighed and cursed silently as his body slowly bathed in the sensations pulled to the surface as his mind tried to focus upon his book.

The Doberman had been upfront about his tastes since the beginning of his search for a roommate, hoping to avoid any sitcom adventures when he brought a guy home. Or rather, if. His classes stood in the way of any real social life, and their neck of the woods was not quite cosmopolitan enough to have a good gay scene. As such, his evenings were mostly spent lounging alone in the apartment, either online or with a book. Sasha had been pleased to find someone through the grapevine who didn't mind a queer for a roommate. What he didn't expect was for that roommate to be so comfortable with that fact. A loosely guarded secret was some not so subtle twinges of bisexuality in his tough-talking roommate, twinges brushed off in public that bloomed into an unrelenting barrage of clumsy advances when the front door closed.

Advances, Sasha was conflicted to admit, he did not always refuse.

The door opened some time later, and out stumbled the pit bull once more. This time, however, he was clad only in a towel, damp fur glinting in the dim light as he strode toward the Doberman, possibly a bit more steady in his step. Try as he could, Sasha could not quite muster the pride to not stop and watch, eyes traveling over the decently-maintained musculature hidden under the pale fur. He took particular note of the way the male's pelt grew lighter across his chest and belly, down his front to where his paw held the barely-wrapped fabric. By the time Don had joined his roommate, the Doberman was openly gazing at the Pitbull's crotch, his book long forgotten.

"Like what you see?"

Don's bravado had returned, showing no awareness of his previous reprimand, and his voice was a little less muddled. He had sobered up some, but that wasn't enough to wash away the hormones.

Sasha's head snapped up, almost blushing under his dark fur, and he plastered a smirk across his face. "Not bad. The garage has been good to you. Think you might be able to help me set up Jack's wardrobe next week?"

Don ignored him, reaching down to move the book from Sasha's lap before taking a seat with a heavy grunt. Sasha blinked as his barely clothed roommate straddled his lap, paws leaving the towel and gripping his shoulders. Without a word, he started to grind his hips and rear against the Doberman's cloth-clap lap. An attempt at a sultry growl, and Don pressed his bare chest to Sasha's, paw running up and down his front. Months of squatting to change tires and bending over to inspect engines left him with a decently toned body, filled in slightly by a diet of beer and wings. Still, the Pitbull clearly knew what he was doing, slowly rolling his hips and dragging his lap across the faint outline of the Doberman's own endowment. As much as Sasha would deny it, Don knew what his roommate liked. This was not the first time he'd been interrupted in such a way, and practice certainly made perfect.

Underneath the clumsy attempts at romance, Sasha's eyebrows were raised, a conflicted expression across his face. He could still smell some beer on the Pitbull's breath, but not enough to hear his guidance counselor's voice in his head. Still, this was exploitative. Besides, Don wasn't doing this out of love, he was just a dog after a bone. if he had any luck at the track, he'd have been trying to bury himself in some barfly bitch, then brag to his buddies about how much of an alpha dog he was...instead of drunkenly trying to mount his fag of a roommate. Not to mention, his "heavy petting" was really resulting in cold, wet spots all across his outfit. This was empty. This was pointless. This was...

Moral quandary aside, Sasha couldn't manage to ignore the warm, wet, naked canine grinding his ass into his crotch. The more his eyes roamed over the dog, the more he felt his own heat starting to rise.

Would it be so wrong? One more time?

Sighing internally, Sasha lost the fight again. He smiled craftily up at the Pitbull, reaching out and resting his paws on the dog's toned chest. This drew an immediate pent-up moan from Don, and Sasha felt pleased with the effect. With a deft touch, he gripped the edges of the towel, parting them open just a little. Enough to peer inside at what the dog had to offer. With little grunts from both of them, Sasha exposed the top of Don's thick sheath, a pointed red tip already slipping out and begging for attention. If Sasha had any will to take the high ground, it evaporated on the spot. He gazed at the warm cock bared in his lap, and he chuckled softly. Looking back up, he smirked at the Pitbull, rubbing teasingly above the thicker dog's crotch in slow circles, before trailing his digits below the belt, eventually closing his paw around the furred flesh. Don tried to hide a whine, but he was at least one beer past a convincing job, and Sasha growled, falling back into his role. Slipping the skin back just a little, Sasha began to slowly pump Don's knotted cock, feeling the warm flesh grow and thicken in his paw. This drew more grunts and moans, and stoked renewed rolling of hips and grinding from the pale canine, desperate for more.

This was probably why he kept letting this happen. No matter how many times Don would try to fight for top dog, he knew that at the end of the day, this mutt would be putty in his paws. And even if he saw his buddies tomorrow and bragged about knotting some slut, Sasha would know the truth. And it was this confidence that bled into his voice.

"A bit overdressed, aren't we?"

Dom beamed, reaching down to grab his towel and cast it aside a bit too eagerly. Now sitting naked in Sasha's lap, he gleefully took to unbuttoning the Doberman's shirt, running his paws over his dark, well-groomed fur. Sasha hid a little moan, and busied himself with reaching around to firmly grip Don's ass, taking a cheek in paw and squeezing slowly. Don fumbled with a button, moaning, and Sasha grinned toothily.

God, you're pent up. I bet you'll be howling tonight.

Sasha took pity, helping the Pitbull with the button on his jeans. The tugging of fabric and a few haphazard readjustments later, and the two canines were completely bare. Sasha pulled Dom forward with a growl, and Dom reseated himself with one of his own. The two laid there, chest to chest, muzzles finding each other and kissing fiercely. There was no love in the meeting of lips, but there was lust in the wrestling of their tongues. They both moaned and grunted into each other as Dom desperately thrust himself against Sasha's crotch and into his paw. Sasha grinned, and Don was too desperate to notice, feverishly kissing and licking at lips and teeth. So distracted was the thicker dog that he didn't have time to react as Sasha suddenly pulled him up, lifting him off his ass and bringing that thick, cock directly to his face. Before Don could finish his yelp, Sasha quickly caught the oversensitive tip in his mouth and give it a quick suckle.

"That...that's not fair!" Don gasped, eyes wide as he watched in shock and joy as Sasha took charge, still barely kissing his desperately throbbing flesh. The Doberman's eyes glanced upward at him, and he opened his mouth to let the weight of the warm flesh rest upon his tongue, the very sight of which enough to make the Pitbull throb.

"Who says I play fair?" Sasha replied matter-of-factly, flashing Don a quick wink, before closing his lips around Don's cock and diving forward, kissing the knot. Don threw back his head and moaned, as his seemingly shy roommate swallowed and gulped around him, working him over with Bohemian hedonism. Sasha was barely doing this for him anyway, every lick, suckle, sniff, or nuzzle aimed at the pit bull was for his own pleasure. And while he couldn't speak much for Don's ability to do the dishes, he did have a decent cock. He'd let the horny mutt slip this same flesh under his tail a few times, ignoring the dire rejected porn script that he'd coo into his ear. While it was a nice indulgence every so often, it was ultimately more boring than enjoyable, and it was far more fun watching Don squirm and moan like a virgin. And besides, the dog messed up his nice shirt! He didn't deserve "playing fair".

While he was distracted by Sasha's workover, Don didn't notice the paw sneaking around the globe of his ass, drawing closer to the prize. Already nice and damp from Don's wet fur, a single digit sat just outside the ring of flesh, waiting for the moment to strike. Sure enough, as Sasha opened a little wider, actually closing his lips partially on the Pitbull's slowly swelling knot, Don let out a loud groan of pleasure cut short in a quick yelp.

"Ah! Oh god...I...but I was-OH!" Sasha ignored the pitbull's protests, and pushed the digit in the rest of the way, down to the knuckle.

Sasha knew what he was about to say. He "wasn't wanting to bottom tonight" or would have asked "can't we just 69 instead". He wanted to fuck a guy as straight as possible. Sure, the first few times Sasha bowed to pressure and indulged the Pitbull, lifting his own tail. Plus, the Doberman clearly didn't mind a healthy dose of oral. But curiously enough, Don didn't object as hard as he should have when Sasha started standing up for himself. Sure enough, he never made sounds like this when he topped. Knowing full well the Pitbull would never admit this to himself, Sasha simply would chuckle and carry on, knowing that if he wanted anything different, he wouldn't be moaning from fingers alone. He certainly wouldn't be gushing pre at the thought of taking the Doberman's cock.

With a loud pop, Sasha let go of Don's cock, catching his breath and smirking messily, his lips coated in a mix of saliva and lust. The one paw that had been holding Don to his muzzle was lying at the side, no longer needed, and the Doberman feverishly pumped the slickened cock before his face with a fervor to make Don bark. Reuse, recycle! Sasha thought to himself with a snicker as he pumped his own shaft, standing at attention in anticipation of the treat to come. Nice and slick. He wiped his muzzle crudely off on Don's belly, finishing with a kiss to his chest as a silent apology.

"You...you're an asshole, you know that?" Don panted, face flushed and voice embarrassed, but he could not hide an eager smile and a twinkle in his eye. Sasha couldn't help but return the smile, refreshing in its honesty, as Don took the initiative and began to lower himself back into his lap, shuddering as the Doberman's cock grazed his ass.

"Maybe," Sasha growled, taking his cock in paw and prodding teasingly at Don, who growled and thrust his hips back to try and catch the tip. Sasha snorted, catching Don's eye, and he flashed the dog a cheeky wink.

"But I know you want it."

With practiced aim, he lined himself up and thrust his hips, burying the tip of his shaft under Don's tail. The two gasped heavily, before letting out respective groans of relief as Sasha pulled Don into his lap, impaling him fully on the Doberman's cock. Finally, their sighs both said. Don wasn't given the chance to adjust to the intrusion. Sasha mashed himself into the tight hole with gleeful abandon, drawing more and more grunts and moans. He rolled his hips and pushed his body upward with his arms, the chair creaking from the exertion. This poor chair had seen its fair share of impromptu sessions such as this. In fact, it was this particular activity that likely led to some of Sasha's newfound musculature. His thick sack slapped under Don's tail, each thrust making Don's own shaft bounce and jerk in the air. Don appeared to have no objection to the roughness, as his eyes were screwed shut and lips curled in an expression far from pain. He grunted and gasped breathlessly, paws finding Sasha's shoulders.

At one point, Sasha broke the rhythm to catch his breath, something Don clearly would have none of. With an impatient snarl, he took matters into his own paws and started bouncing in the leaner dog's lap. Even when tired and buzzed, the Pitbull demonstrated a surprising level of skill as he took that cock. Don clenched his muscles every time he took the Doberman to the hilt, ground the plush cheeks of his ass against Sasha's thighs, and rolled his hips to grind the base of his cock against his ring. All this, before lifting back up to let that thick cock slide lovingly free of his well-loved ring to ready himself to be stuffed once more. Sasha, taking the chance to relax and catch his breath, was having little luck, watching the dog in his lap with winded amazement.

"So good..." Don moaned, throwing himself back onto Sasha's cock again and again, bodies clapping together. He was lost to pleasure, jerking himself off as he took the Doberman with ease. "More...harder..."

Sasha couldn't help but snicker. He could imagine how much Don had hoped earlier tonight to hear those same words under him right about now. In fact...

Sasha reached up with his muzzle to catch Don's lips and kiss him deeply, wrapping his arms around the Pitbull's waist and hold him tightly to his chest. The Pitbull gasped, losing his focus, and immediately took to the kiss, gasping and gulping into Sasha's mouth. The two sat there, stuck together, kissing passionately, before Sasha suddenly stood up, carrying the impaled dog in his arms. Don's yelp was muffled by the kiss, and he was unable to fight as Sasha, in a surprising display of strength, turned around and all but threw the Pitbull into the chair. Sasha grinned, now on top, and thrust his hips heavily to bury himself deeper into the dog. Don whined in pleasure and did not object to no longer being on top. He lifted his legs as if on instinct, and as Sasha began to rut him from above, Don's footpaws met around his roommate's back. Almost romantic, were it not for the barks and yelps of pent up-lust burning into the air. Sasha may not have gotten as deep as before, but the new position afforded a much greater degree of control, allowing him to roll his hips and crash his lap against Don's ass with greater speed and ease. Sasha knot battered Don's tired tailhole, the force making the Pitbull's desperate cock bounce as it spurted and drooled against his belly.

"Sasha...fuck, Sasha..."

Sasha blinked, cocking his head at Don's moaned words.

"It's so good...fuck me...Sasha, fuck me...I love it..."

Don was delirious from pleasure and likely still drunk...but he actually addressed him directly? Recognized that he was the one fucking him? Sasha was quite surprised, enough to pause as he looked down into Don's face, lost in ecstasy. Was this really just a release for him? A closet indulgence with the closest fag he could find? Or did Don like it because...it was Sasha giving-

Don snarled needily, and the legs wrapped around his back tightened, a gluttonous demand for more. Sasha shook his head and smiled, a bit less self-satisfied than before and perhaps a bit more humble, before returning to the rhythm, his own body happy to return to the pleasure. He battered the dog from inside, watching him increasingly writhing and squirming with tension. Don's paw reached down to grip his cock, possibly show himself some mercy, but Sasha batted it away. A piteous whine, and Sasha relented, gripping the thick meat in paw himself. At this point, Don was fighting a losing battle. He was being fucked senseless while his cock was squeezed and kneaded by an experienced paw. The poor dog merely closed his eyes and held onto the chair for dear life, calling out Sasha's name as if in worship. His shaft was begging for closure, knot swelling in his palm as he was roughly groped and manhandled. Sasha could tell how the Pitbull was suffering, entire body throbbing at every little touch, face almost mournful in its pleasure. He needed just a little extra...

Gasping for air as he rammed himself inside his roommate, Sasha had an idea for just such a push. After burying himself thickly and drawing a gasp from the dog, Sasha leaned forward quickly, staying just long enough to open his mouth and give Don a quick nip on the crook of his neck.

As soon as those fangs grazed skin, Don couldn't help but bark...then howl...then explode.

Sasha's eyes sparkled as he watched such a hearty, thick load pump all over the lighter dog's belly and chest, thick ropes painting his fur. Sasha squeezed and kneaded Don's knot, smiling wickedly as he tried to milk out all the pleasure that has clearly been building for quite some time. Little dribbles from Don's shivers slid delightfully down his fingers and nestled into his own fur, so warm and smooth.

"Quite a lot," Sasha teased, still very slowly kneading the softening cock in his paw, making the abused dog twitch in over-stimulated pleasure. "A bit too much just for an off night. Have you been having yourself a dry spell lat-"

"Shut up!" Don snapped, breaking from his haze and thrusting his hips forward. "Just get off already, fuck!"

This wasn't just lust, this was anger. A prom queen with the wrong shade of lip gloss. Sasha had stopped thrusting to admire his work, but the job wasn't done. Don wasn't going to walk away from this without getting what he wanted. The sight of Don's frustrated face and bared fangs sparked something in Sasha, a feral power play that left him in a sudden desire to affirm his dominance. He sank his claws into Don's furred flesh as he latched on, before redoubling his pace, slamming his shaft deep into the Pitbull. The warm, firm ring of muscle was slowly relaxing, the tension far gone and replaced with warm surges of pleasure. Don had already been milked for all he was worth, but he still moaned slightly each time Sasha's knot threatened to pop inside. Sasha was sure Don would be overjoyed to be claimed properly, have that knot sunk the rest of the way inside like an alpha breeding a bitch. Sasha was sorely tempted, but he'd been holding back on giving his roommate a proper knot...the Doberman still clinging to the idea of saving that honor for someone closer. He did, however, feel like marking the Pitbull properly. And so, when Sasha felt the first twinges in his belly, he did not hilt himself inside, but picked up the pace, clapping his lap lewdly against Don's ass, the sound growing more and more sticky with each thrust and throb. Don's voice had calmed after his own climax, a bit shell-shocked from the experience, but now started to raise in a mixture of pleasure and soreness, ready for the rest of his relief. Sasha did not let up, not until he got what he wanted.

"Please...Pleeeaaase..." Don finally whined. No longer demanding, but begging.

Sasha smiled wickedly, finally getting his money's worth, and he thrust extra hard, forcing part of his knot past Don's ring. The Pitbull's voice raised into a gasp, half-expecting the Doberman to push past the point of no return. Just before that came, however, Sasha pulled out, standing fully upright above Don, cock in paw. A few heavy kneads and a squeeze, and Don let out a heavy bark. Ropes upon ropes exploded from the darker canine, all perfectly aimed to splatter up and down the gray dog's front. Across his chest, onto his belly to mix with the last coating, even a few on his muzzle. In fevered joy, Don moaned and writhed, arching his back unconsciously to get closer to the source, tongue flicking out over his muzzle to lap up the white strings. Had it not been for the many drinks this night had held, he may never have let himself be caught dead doing that.

Sasha gasped heavily, legs shaking as the last dribble of his pleasure slid from the tip of his shaft, landing upon Don's aching, abused flesh and drawing an equal gasp. He couldn't stay upright, he dropped to his knees onto the chair as Don carefully sat up, avoiding sending the warm, silky gift across his front everywhere. The two sat there, in a pose mirroring the one they shared so awkwardly before, now with no inhibition keeping them apart. They did not speak or address each other, only staring into vague space and trying to catch their breath, feeding off the warmth of their pleasure and the warmth of each other. The chair creaked, and they both blinked as if they were suddenly aware that neither was alone. Their eyes met, still not accompanied by voice as they merely looked at each other, before their bodies acted above their minds. With their muzzles already close, it only took a little more effort to bring them together. A little shift brought them chest to chest, that cooling load now mashed between the two in a way neither cared to notice. Fingers laced, arms wrapped, and their touch fell into a warm, deep kiss. No wrestling of lips, no rolling of tongue, no desperation shared. Just a kiss, as Sasha and Dom relaxed into each other.

Chest to chest and cheek to cheek, they both laid there for a great while, not recognizing time even after the kiss had ended. Finally, a little stir, and a whispered voice.

"Sasha?"

Another little shift, and a murr. "Mmm...yeah?"

A pause, and a chuckle.

"Think next time, I can show you how it's done?"

"Get the fuck out of my chair."

"Seriously, more than happy to demonstrate. Maybe teach you to use real lube for once? I'm sure you could handle-"

"Now."

Don snickered like a toddler who stomped on a bug as Sasha stood up, his own expression sour. Don stretched and stood up, wincing as his rear encountered the cushion, but losing none of that shit-eating grin.

"Sure you didn't like being in my lap, Sasha? I wouldn't say no to that cute-"

"Fuck off."

Don still was laughing as he left his roommate behind to sulk, not caring about the heavy load dribbling off his front onto the carpet as he went back to the kitchen to grab himself a drink. Sasha bitterly plopped back into his seat, clammy and vaguely sticky with the memory of what had just occurred. Once again, he was sitting there, bathed in a cloud of sexual scent, with conflicting emotions. With his own hormones temporarily sated, all that was left were thoughts and emotions. Annoyance, frustration, embarrassment. Was he shocked that after the orgasm wore off Don turned back into an ass? Did he expect anything else? This would happen every time they fucked, his Prince would turn back into a frog and act like a toad. What kind of life was this? Each time he indulged the dog, he'd get bolder. Come to expect this more. And then what? Would Sasha's only purpose in Don's life be for a Brokeback fuck?

A creaking door, and Sasha turned his head. Cocking his head in surprise, he watched Donnel start picking up their clothes and tossing them haphazardly into the hamper. Awkward, but thoughtful. He was good about that, at least.

Now that Sasha thought about it, the few times they'd had a late night, he'd woken up with the blanket pulled over him. The dishes put up when he walked out of Don's bedroom. A few little nice efforts, hidden in a sea of bravado. Maybe something working its way out? The more he sat there, watching his roommate parading around in his fur without shame, he wondered how much he truly minded the sight? Wondered whether or not this was the worst situation he could be in...

That kiss felt good. Very good.

"Aight, gonna crank up our water bill again! Wanna save a few bucks and join me?" Don teased, looking over his shoulder and flicking up his tail at Sasha, who could only muster a disgusted noise. The Doberman didn't speak for a bit, merely staring into nothing as he relaxed into his chair, before calling out.

"Hey, Don?"

Don stopped just within the bathroom, turning around and cocking his head, face clearly expecting another opportunity to poke fun.

"After your shower...why don't you crash in mine tonight?"

The Pitbull's face changed slightly, losing some of its spark...and leaving something else behind. If Sasha could see Don's face properly, he reckoned that he'd spy a flush in those cheeks. A long silence, and a small, murmured noise, and the door closed a bit too quickly.

Sasha's smirk returned just a little. This was not love. Affection, maybe? Warmth? Definitely lust. It wasn't long term, but it'd work. He then closed his eyes and relaxed in his well-used chair, waiting for his turn in the shower. The Doberman would need to remember to clean the fabric tomorrow. He wouldn't want the mess to get too out of hand, after all.