30 minutes of faggotry

He knew it was the Pastor talking, of course. The damned stuff was still in his system, even after a quarter of a year of detox. At least the shakes had stopped, and at least he could manage himself in public again. But while he kept his trademark cool demeanor showing to the world, Jack Savage was worried.

He couldn’t go back into the field with this stuff anywhere near him. The chances were just too great that he’d crack under the pressure of resisting his impulses, and Jack had already let enough secrets slip to Vanderbill and his friends. Nor could he take an office job, though that was more due to the fact that Theodore Winston had done so. The atmosphere between the two had grown significantly icier after their rescue, due in no small part to Jack’s role in Theo’s capture. Even now, the memory of his lust-fueled actions haunted the rabbit. What had he been thinking?

The answer was that he hadn’t been thinking. The as-yet unnamed substance that Theodore had been exposed to had been analyzed by ZIA scientists, who determined that it was the agent in Night Howlers responsible for the mental breakdown of dosed creatures. While Jack had only had secondhand exposure to the chemical, it still must have been enough to cause a similar degradation in his mind.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

Savage slowed to a stop near the mostly-abandoned station, swiping his ZIA credentials at the gate and continuing on through. As the smell of the subway struck him, Jack wrinkled his nose and pushed up the sleeve of his heavy coat just enough to see his watch. At least Pastor hadn’t removed his punctuality; he was right on time. Thanks to the civil engineering department of Zootopia, so was the train: it hissed into place a mere thirty seconds after Jack arrived the stop.

The rabbit welcomed the sudden warmth of the train as he stepped inside, brushing off the light layer of snow that had accumulated on his shoulders. Savage pulled himself up into the seat of the subway car, leaning back against the cool plastic and letting his gaze drift aimlessly over the other passengers. It slid from the elephant with her trunk wrapped around the handle hanging from the ceiling, over to the tigress busy keeping her kids from scratching each others’ faces off, to the timberwolf sitting with his legs spread, absorbed in his phone.

Jack’s mouth twitched in a smug smile; he could give the wolf something else to pay attention to. It would be so simple to slip out of his seat, worm his way between the wolf’s legs, unbutton his waistband and bury his face against the male’s clothed cock. He let out a slow breath, imagining the sheer potency of the wolf’s musk after what he assumed to be a hard day’s work. He could press his hand against the strong-smelling clothing separating him and that glorious length, tongue ready to lap up the precum that would soon be staining the fabric.

Hell, he could probably yank the boxers down as well and get it straight from the source. His lips moved involuntarily as he imagined wrapping them around the bulge at the base of his length, slurping and kissing and ever-so-gently nibbling that knot as the wolf howled in pleasure. After all, that’s what the wolf wanted, right? Why would he spread his legs like that if he didn’t want Jack to kneel down before him and do his duty?

Jack was about to go fulfill his rightful role when the subway slid around a curve, the resulting pressure sending a jackal cascading into his lap. Jack Savage swiftly became aware of three things: one, he absolutely needed some sort of relief from his cravings, or else he’d go mad. Two, the canine in his lap was giving him a very dirty look as he managed to scramble back to his seat. And three, as the previously unnoticed warmth that had spread across his belly began to cool… well, he was glad he’d kept his coat on, though the shirt underneath would be ruined.