Bunny Love

Everett is so fucking bored.

It’s the only thought that permeates his poor, under-stimulated mind as his hooves begin to move upon their own accord. It’s a certain sort of auto-pilot that his body has taken to these days, one that carries him from his apartment and through the familiar back doors of the club that’s become basically a second home to him. Not even the bouncers dare give him a second as he weaves his way through all of the dancers still busy getting themselves ready for opening, intent upon his instinctual mission.

That mission, you ask?

Barging through the door of Russel’s private office with a bold and pointed declaration of, “I’m so fucking bored!”

From where he is seated at his desk, Russel doesn’t even bother looking up from his paperwork. Not even as Everett marches his way over to collapse into his lap, simply moving to accommodate the weight of the bun.

“I thought I told you that you’re off tonight,” he comments, off-hand and clearly distracted. Everett huffs slightly at his lack of acknowledgement, squirming a bit in hopes to draw his attention. When that doesn’t work, he frowns.

“You did tell me that,” he whines, snaking his arms around the other bun’s neck as he situates himself into his lap more properly, effectively blocking off his line-of-sight with that accursed paper, “but like I said, I’m bored.”

Now forced to meet Everett’s gaze, Russel raises a brow. “Bored enough to come into work on your day off?” He questions, voice flat, and Everett groans.

“Bored enough to walk all the way here to talk to you !” He emphasizes with a press of his finger to Russel’s chest, withdrawing it quickly at the unamused stare he gets in return. With a pout, he leans forward to press his body more purposefully against him, putting on his best and most pleading look. “Entertain me for a bit? Please?”

For a moment, there is silence. Everett can feel just the slightest bit of hope begin to blossom in his chest under Russel’s unreadable observation, only to let out an almost indignant squawk as Russel moves to shift him out of the way. He’s about to complain when suddenly he can feel a strong hand settle upon the small of his back, steadying him in his new position of practically straddling the other bun’s leg before returning to simply reading over his paper.

“I don’t know,” the bigger bun rumbles, a clear amusement tinting his tone, “I am pretty busy right now. It’s supposed to be a lively night. I wanted to get this all done before the doors open.”

“Yeah?” Everett says after he regains his composure, though it’s slightly distracted from the way Russel’s fingers begin to make small, purposeful circles against his back. “So busy that you can’t even make time for your favorite dancer?”

A low chuckle can be heard as Russel shakes his head, the rattle of the chain upon his neck catching Everett’s ears as those sharp nails pause in their movements, his hand instead moving to settle upon Everett’s inner thigh.

“Come on now, doll,” he murmurs, narrowed eyes sliding over to fix the greedy bun in place. “You know I don’t play favorites like that.”

“So I’m not your favorite dancer?” Everett whines, tail flicking indignantly at the laugh that shakes Russel’s chest.

“No. Far from it.” He hums, though there’s something to be said about the way that hand begins to massage slightly at the plump skin of Everett’s thigh, almost thoughtful. Everett doesn’t need to be able to see beneath the other bun’s bandana to know he cracks a grin. “You’re way too much of a nuisance to be able to call you that.”

The scoff Everett gives is immediate, no matter how he spreads his legs slightly in response to Russel’s ministrations. He can feel the beginnings of a blush burning at the tips of his ears, spreading down his neck and trickling down his spine. His tail twitches in annoyance at just how easily Russel can manage to get him so worked up with just a few teasing words and careful touches, the burning in his core anything but unnoticed - it’s what he’d been wanting when coming here, but still. He can be vexed by it nonetheless.

“Please, like you don’t actively encourage my ‘nuisance’” he sniffs, shifting a bit again - only to then come upon a very pleasing realization. Narrowed golden eyes meet gleaming red ones as Everett cracks a smile, leaning forward to practically purr out, “After all, you’re the one getting hard right now just from me being here. I’d say that says plenty about what you think about me, hm?”

As soon as the words are finished leaving Everett’s lips, he knows that he’s won. He can just barely register the hand that comes to yank down the bandana covering Russel’s face before he’s being pulled forward into a bruising kiss, a small sound of thrilled satisfaction bubbling up from somewhere in his chest. He gladly takes the invitation to let Russel take control, pressing his back against the edge of the desk behind him even as his hips seek friction forward.

 It’s sloppy, and quite chaotic, a frenzy of teeth and tongue, yet Everett wouldn’t dare have it any other way. Even as they part, the thin trail of saliva still connecting them only breaking as Russel leans down to graze his fangs against the other bun’s exposed neck, he can’t help but find it worth the mess.

“Such a brat,” comes the mumble against Everett’s already purpling skin as Russel kisses and licks away the slight sting of pain from his fangs. Everett merely hums in response, eyes half-lidded with content. “I meant it when I’d said I was busy, you know.”

“Clearly you’re not too busy, considering you’re still messing around with a dancer who’s not even your favorite,” Everett sighs out, even as his fingers curl themselves around the back of Russel’s neck, as though urging his face even closer - if that were even possible. He can feel Russel’s body shake with the force of a chuckle against him, and the feeling brings a small laugh of his own.

“I think I have a solution to both of our problems,” Russel hums then, contemplative, before suddenly withdrawing. Everett is just about to complain when he catches the glint in Russel’s eye, his heart jumping a little at the sight. He knows that look. He knows that look well.

“That so?” He asks, attempting to keep up his facade of nonchalance, but his excitement is betrayed in many ways - the slight flick of his tail, the perking of his ears … the twitch of his cock, especially as Russel chuckles lowly.

 A strong hand comes to rest against Everett’s cheek, and he leans into the touch almost instinctively. The thumb that rubs over his bottom lip is surprisingly gentle. Admiring, even.

“If you’re really that desperate to earn my favor, then why don’t you get on your knees?” Russel begins, his voice deep with intent.  Everett can feel the way his breath catches in his throat. Especially as that thumb trails down to trace against the slight bob of his adams’ apple. “Can you do that for me, doll?”

“Yes,” he breathes out before he can even really register that he’s made the choice to do so, swallowing hard once more in an attempt to steady himself against his own eagerness, “Yes, sir.”

Russel merely hums in response, pressing lightly against where his fingers rest before releasing Everett entirely as he desperately tries to catch his stolen breath. With shaky legs, Everett manages to slip from his boss’s lap and settle himself beneath the desk with an eagerness that he almost would have been embarrassed about if it had been with anybody else- or if he hadn’t felt so fucking horny . The smirk that Russel gives down at him as he runs his hand through the blonde of Everett’s curls certainly isn’t helping either, the strange softness of  the gesture anything but lost on him.

“Well?” Russel drawls as Everett blinks up at him, “What are you waiting for? You know what to do.”

Everett does know what to do - he’s done this enough times already to know exactly what Russel likes, to know just how to bring him right to that edge. He’s quick to pull loose the belt on the other bun’s pants, undoing his buttons with a quick precision that can only come with practice. The second he pulls him free, the soft noise he gets in response only spurring him onward to give a sly kitten-lick to the head as his fingers move to gentley  brush  against those piercings he oh-so loves , he’s already got it all planned out.

… Or so he thought.

Just as Everett is beginning to settle into his usual rhythm, he’s surprised by a sudden pat to his cheek - an unexpected reprimand. He blinks at the bun above him, looking up through his lashes almost curiously.

“Not too fast there, doll,” Russel explains, a certain huskiness to his voice that sends Everett’s stomach fluttering and his dick twitching hard and heavy between his thighs. “I’ve still got work to do. Be a good boy and keep my cock warm for me as I do, yeah?”

Everett can’t help the soft moan he gives around him in response, eyelashes fluttering as he tries to readjust his positioning. While not what he’d expected, it’s still… nice. Russel’s careful fingers carding through his hair, the way he settles into the familiarity of the weight in his mouth, breathing through his nose nice and steady.

He’d hate to admit it, but Russel was right - it certainly does seem to be quite the solution to both of their problems, pleasant fogginess finding Everett’s mind as he simply allows himself to absently lick and suck. A soft and content hum or moan leaves him on occasion, but apart from that, he feels quite sated from the earlier itchy boredom. 

They stay like that, the only sound being the scratching of pen against paper and the quiet noises that Everett doesn’t even bother trying to contain, for an amount of time that Everett can’t even be sure of. At some point, the pen is set down, the brush of a gentle thumb against his cheek bringing Everett to blink back to the present.

Russel looks down at him with a smug satisfaction to his gaze, though Everett swears he can see something almost soft lingering there as well. It sends a warm flutter of pride through his chest, his tail curling slightly. 

“I’m gonna fuck your mouth now, okay, babydoll?” Russel murmurs, and despite his apparent cool and collected composure, it’s clear just how affected he is from it all  - especially as Everett moans his affirmation around him, causing him to twitch in his mouth. 

Everett knows he must look a mess, drool dribbling down his chin and his hair ruffled with sex… yet he believes it when Russel groans and bundles his fist into his curls, moaning out with his first thrust, “Fuck, you look good like this. We should do this more often. Keep that slutty mouth of yours occupied.” 

The pace that he sets could be considered brutal to some, enough to leave tears stinging in the corners of Everett’s eyes. Not that he truly minds - the two of them have always been rough together. It’s just a facet of their relationship, an outlet for the both of them, one that Everett even finds he’s sought after at that.

His own hand finds itself beneath his clothes and situated between his thighs as he simply allows Russel to use his mouth, desperately seeking some kind of his own relief. If Russel notices, he doesn’t comment on it, though Everett swears his grip gets just a little tighter in the strands of his hair as he moans.

The only warning Everett gets for just how close Russel has gotten is a tap to his chin and a gruff grunt of, “Swallow.” 

The high and needy whine that leaves him escapes almost of its own volition, his own hand speeding up in his frantic chase for relief. It quickly turns into a moan, however, as Russel guides his head down in one last thrust before holding him still, releasing down his throat with a sound practically akin to that of a growl.

He releases him quickly after, pulling out, yet never straying far. His thumb caresses at Everett’s cheek as he pants to try and catch his own breath, blinking up through bleary eyes as he licks at his own lips.

There’s a crinkle at the corner of Russel’s eyes from the smile he has, clearly quite pleased with his work as Everett leans his weight against him. All the while, his hand keeps moving, another small whine slipping past his lips.

“Sir, please - “ he all but whimpers, voice thoroughly wrecked and saturated with need, “can I cum? Please? I’ve been so good, so good for you.”

“Go ahead, doll,” Russel murmurs, “you’ve earned it. You did so well for me.”

The small bit of praise is enough to send Everett over the edge himself, moan muffled as he turns to press his face against Russel’s thigh. Even as he comes back down, he stays just like that, Russel’s hand petting softly through his hair. 

Eventually, Russel gives a fond little chuckle, drawing Everett back from his momentary bliss.

“You still with me there?” He teases, ruffling his hair a bit, causing Everett’s nose to wrinkle as he makes a show of swatting his hand away. 

“You’re actually the worst,” he huffs as he clambers his way back into Russel’s lap, though it’s hard to keep up the annoyed facade when Russel’s chest shakes with his laugh, a smile creeping its way onto his lips. “You owe me, like, two drinks after that one. No, actually, three! Three drinks!”

Russel merely hums in response, patting at his thigh in a way that leaves Everett rolling his eyes, “Whatever you say, doll - whatever you say.”

(Later that night, Everett does get his drinks - and not to mention a brand new outfit. What can he say? Being a favorite certainly has its perks.)