GOOD COP, BAD KITTY
© Triskell, May/August 2005

The Shokan division’s corridors were dark that night, and quiet. Terazuma’s footsteps echoed eerily and his eyes glowed dimly. It wasn’t necessary to turn the lights on, his sight had been enhanced by his Shiki, after all, and he was now far better at prowling about unseen than he had been in his life when his job had warranted it.

Terazuma grumbled silently to himself about Kannuki’s need to have everything prim and proper and organised; this was what had led to his roaming the office past ten o’clock at night, when nothing stirred. And all that for one damn file! Kannuki could’ve waited till tomorrow morning, it wasn’t as if she were going to work on it tonight, anyway.

Suddenly, Terazuma’s ears pricked up, his eyes narrowed. He’d heard something, a faint sound, footsteps perhaps, the swish of fabric. He couldn’t resist the instinct – animal, or human – to investigate. He crept forward, in the direction of Tatsumi’s office.

“You can’t be serious!”

Stopping dead in his tracks, Terazuma’s eyes narrowed even further. Tatsumi’s voice, usually so calm and even was agitated, scandalised almost.

“We’re in the office!” The next exclamation, more firm, still sounded put-out, “It isn’t proper.”

Apart from Tatsumi, only Kannuki would think of using the word “proper”. Terazuma grinned. No wonder Kannuki respected the man so much.

“Don’t … that’s absurd… please.”

Was that the sound of a zipper? Eyes narrowing even further, Terazuma moved closer to the office. The door was opened a crack, light filtered out into the corridor. Terazuma kept to the shadows, well aware of Tatsumi’s power. It wouldn’t do to get caught – Tsuzuki had often enough given an example of why Tatsumi’s wrath had to be avoided.

Tatsumi let out a low groan and was that a … licking noise? Terazuma’s ears were twitching now, cat-like. And, of course, curiosity killed the cat. He’d later tell himself it was his Shiki’s fault that made him lean just a little to the side, so he could catch a glimpse into the room.

His heart stopped. Literally, for a few seconds, then it began drumming painfully hard and quickly against his ribcage. Wakaba! Short blue pleated skirt, sensible black shoes, white socks, and long locks all across her back. Kneeling, in front of Tatsumi.

A thousand ideas flashed through Terazuma’s mind – had he been ordered to the office by Kannuki to witness this? To see her like this, in a dimly lit office, pleasuring Tatsumi of all people? The sounds were unmistakable now, loud enough to clearly make out. Licking and slurping. Terazuma felt ill and his cock really had no business to twitch.

He was on the verge of just flinging the door open and drag his partner up from the floor, out of the office, tear Tatsumi apart for … Terazuma’s eyes narrowed again, as he made out the breadth of the shoulders.

Tatsumi’s hands tangled in the wayward locks, twining about the dark suit sleeve, as if anchoring Tatsumi’s hand there. Kannuki gave a sigh – voice too husky, too … oh damn.

Now was a good moment to leave. Terazuma’s trousers were tighter now and it was true he hadn’t touched anyone for a while… It had been ages since he’d gotten a blowjob and his hand, without conscious thought, strayed to his groin, cupping his cock, squeezing a little.

Damn it, but he liked women, Kannuki especially. So why would he want to watch this, two of his *male* colleagues getting each other off? Was he desperate enough to picture himself in Tatsumi’s stead, imagine it was really Kannuki kneeling on the floor, mouth around his cock?

Watari pulled back, stared up at Tatsumi. Tatsumi quirked an eyebrow – what the hell?

“Bottom. You know you want to.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“That’s why I came to you, sensei.”

Oh fuck. That wasn’t … no way had he heard *that*. No fucking way. And why the hell was he still there anyway? Terazuma squeezed his eyes closed for a moment.

“We’re in the office.”

“It’s long after hours. There’s only two people doing overtime, namely us; you know that.”

“But …”

“Indulge me, sensei, I’ll make it worth your while.” Head cocked to the side, hair swaying and tumbling off Watari’s broad shoulders. No way …

“This is insane.”

“Please?”

There would’ve been a pout accompanying the word, of course. Tatsumi was silent for a moment, then he sighed, shaking his head, “You’re wearing a girl’s school uniform.”

“You like it.”

“I like you,” Tatsumi’s voice was firm, earnest; then he averted his eyes – embarrassed, probably – pushed his glasses up, “The skirt was unnecessary. I’ll have to punish you.”

“Please do, sensei.”

Watari rose and Terazuma told himself he had to leave right *now*. The arousal coursing through his body was prompting him to stay though, to indulge himself. Terazuma’s hand squeezed the bulge in his trousers again, suppressed a gasp: decision made.

“Sit on my desk, Watari-chan.”

His heart skipped a beat again. Hell no. No that was … Sure, the man was crazy. Totally, utterly crazy and all, but … in school clothes? Seducing Tatsumi like a girl?

Terazuma couldn’t understand, but he was *seeing* it, and now Watari was perched on that damn desk – Tatsumi’s desk for fuck’s sake! And now, from this vantage point, Watari could see the door from the corner of his eyes; he had sharp eyes, which was why Terazuma had no choice anymore. He had to stay and wait it out.

And this was, of course, a really bad thing. Firstly, because Terazuma wasn’t gay, secondly, because he’d never ever wanted to see Watari in drag and, thirdly, because that damn skirt and long hair were giving him ideas, fuelling a fantasy he wasn’t supposed to have. Kannuki was his partner. He didn’t want her on that table, himself in Tatsumi’s shoes. He didn’t want that, really not. His hand squeezed his cock again. Damn.

Tatsumi’s hands were under Watari’s skirt, Watari was opening Tatsumi’s belt and pulling his shirt out of his trousers.

“You shaved your legs.”

A careless shrug, “I’m a girl.”

“Indeed.” Tatsumi chuckled, moved his arm a little under the skirt.

Watari’s hands stilled, he gasped, hips pushing up involuntarily. Tatsumi had to have … Watari’s skirt was bunched up in Tatsumi’s fist now, was pushed back, exposing hard, smooth thighs, strong muscles.

And Tatsumi’s other hand was palming Watari’s cock, Terazuma supposed and when, hell, Tatsumi stepped back a little to look at Watari Terazuma could see, too, and … that was a thong stretched by Watari’s cock, a woman’s thong no less: frilled, pink. It sent a shudder down Terazuma’s spine, straight to his cock.

“How did you manage to fit yourself into this?”

“The thong? Wakaba suggested I take a larger size.”

“Pardon?”

“She went shopping for the clothes. I was thrown out of the lingerie section when I asked about sizes.”

“I assume weren’t dressed as a woman at that time.”

“Of course not. As if no other guys were wearing lacy lingerie.”

“I …”

“… am speechless. I know. You like it?”

“The … thong?”

“Mm.”

“It’s pink and … ruffled.”

“Matches the bra.”

Tatsumi shook his head, sighed; his hands travelled down Watari’s sides, fingers tugging at the hem of the white shirt, pushing it up haphazardly to reveal more fluffy pink lace.

“I see …” Tatsumi bent forward, licking Watari’s nipple through the material. Watari arched his back, moaning. Terazuma bit his fist. Bloody hell.

“How much did you tell her?” Tatsumi’s mouth was still on that lace, but Terazuma could see him tugging on it, on Watari’s nipple, biting, sucking and Watari was shamelessly grinding himself against Tatsumi, encouraged by Tatsumi’s hand in the small of his back.

“I said it was an … yeah, like that … an experiment.”

“Ah,” Tatsumi let go of Watari’s nipple and bit his shoulder, “She accepted that explanation?”

“Wakaba,” hard pull on Tatsumi’s tie to bring his face to Watari’s, “Is my friend. She knows when not to ask. Now shut up and kiss me.”

“So pushy, young lady.”

Terazuma realised, just as their lips met, that he was palming his cock, which was *very* hard now, and he covered his mouth just in time to stifle a moan. It wasn’t Kannuki for fuck’s sake, wasn’t even a girl, a woman; it was *Watari*. And Watari was a man and Terazuma wasn’t getting off on this. Absolutely not. He squeezed himself a little harder.

“Hm. I take it your strawberry lip gloss is part of the girl thing?”

“Wakaba said strawberry was the flavour of the season. So when are you going to ravish me, sensei?”

“When I feel like it, Watari-chan.” Tatsumi’s mouth was fastened to Watari’s neck and his hands were down below the folds of the skirt that were hindering Terazuma from seeing … rip of fabric, the thong was flung in the general direction of the door and landed only centimetres from Terazuma. He swallowed.

“Sensei!”

“You won’t need underwear, Watari-chan.”

“Good.” Watari pressed closer, fumbling with Tatsumi’s trousers, pushing them open and down, followed by his boxers, “Get on with it, then.”

“Lube.”

“Backpack, left of your chair.”

Terazuma watched shadows gathering, swirling, twisting around Watari’s legs and up his sides, making him gasp and chuckle. A small pink Hello Kitty bag landed beside Watari on the desk. It looked like Kannuki’s. Terazuma grasped the doorframe, heart pounding, cock throbbing, head light.

Sound of a zip, a few quick movements and Watari held a slim tube, squeezing gel onto Tatsumi’s outstretched fingers and then some on his own. Tatsumi’s hand travelled from the small of Watari’s back to the middle, helping him keep his balance as Watari lay down, stretching on the table, one long leg coming to rest on Tatsumi’s shoulder.

“Make it quick.”

“You’re impatient.”

“You’re growling, sensei.”

And Tatsumi was, as he grabbed Watari’s neck with one hand and held him steady as he kissed him – teeth and tongue – plunging his fingers under Watari’s skirt. Watari rubbed his hands together lightly, fumbling between them, probably slicking Tatsumi’s cock.

Terazuma wanted to open his trousers, they were so tight, much too tight. He was hot, sweating, biting his fist to keep from making a noise, rubbing his cock through his trousers and watching two of his male colleagues having sex.. Damn it all to hell.

“Now.”

Watari obviously was quite commanding. Tatsumi obeyed, groaning as he pushed forward, Watari’s hands now on Tatsumi’s ass as he flexed his hips.

“I’ve been a bad girl.” Sultry heat in Watari’s voice and damn, the light was on Watari’s face now and Terazuma hadn’t noticed the make-up until now. Heavy black lashes, kohl rimmed eyes, black smudged just underneath them; no glasses, pouty, wet lips and blush on high cheekbones.

The muscles of Watari’s legs flexed as he used them to pull Tatsumi closer, deeper. Quick, slick slap of flesh on flesh; Terazuma tasted blood as he bit his fist hard to keep from making a noise. His cock hurt, pleasure racing up and down his spine, his ears were filled to the brim with grunts, groans, and gasps that weren’t his, the pounding of his own blood.

He squeezed, rubbed, pressed his palm flat against his cock – finally had the friction just right. His head rested heavily against the doorframe, his body shuddered with need. Watari’s head thudded back against the desk.

“Sensei,” moaned in one husky breath and Terazuma was undone, coming hotly, quietly.

Through the haze of his orgasm he saw Tatsumi tense, gripping Watari’s hips, push hard and deep a few more times, lean forward … they kissed open-mouthed, gasping still, sharing their breath.

Tatsumi pulled out of Watari, lifting himself up a bit on strong arms. He shook his head, a small smile on his lips and Watari laughed softly, long fingers carding through Tatsumi’s hair.

“You know you loved it.”

“I did. You win.”

Watari grinned smugly, “Next time, I’ll get suspenders (*).”

A gasp from Tatsumi and Watari pulled him into an embrace, Tatsumi’s head coming to rest on Watari’s shoulder as Watari stroked his hair.

Standing stock-still, Terazuma watched them lay there, together; adrenaline still coursed through him, his hand still covered his mouth to keep from gasping as he stumbled backwards, one hand on the wall for balance.

The shock and jealousy had abated somewhat as his arousal ebbed away. He saw clearer now and he was more sad than jealous, seeing Tatsumi rest in Watari’s arms. That kind of closeness was what Terazuma wanted, that aftermath, that kind of connection – with Kannuki.

And damn, he knew it wasn’t to be. He cursed his Shiki, again, pointlessly. Taking a deep breath, he straightened his back, moving forward carefully on trembling knees along the corridor away from the slice of light on the floor, away from Tatsumi’s office.

End.

There is no safe sex in this story. In real life, condoms are your friends and protect you and your partner. Better be safe than sorry.

(*) I mostly use British English, therefore, in case you were wondering ;D -- suspender: Brit. an elastic strap attached to a belt or garter, fastened to the top of a stocking to hold it up (Concise Oxford Dictionary, 10th edition).