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The Lion's Police Problems

By Draconicon

"Look, guys. I don't know what to tell you. I did a show, completely legal, and then I went out for some fun with one of the fans. I didn't do anything wrong, you dicks."

The two police officers behind him, one a Doberman and the other a German Shepherd, didn't seem too impressed with his answer. Then again, they were busier looking at his ass than they were doing anything else, as far as Gus could tell. The police, always assholes obsessed with assholes, and doing things to assholes.

Heh, Freud had something for that, didn't he? Anal-retentive or something like that?

The lion was no scholar, didn't know how that worked. What he did know was that the two bastards behind him had yoinked his guitar from the alley wall while he was getting his ass eaten out by one of his fans and fucking another, and now, he was cuffed and held down against the hood of the cop car. Indecent exposure, prostitution, all kinds of bullshit that they wanted to charge him for.

Normally, he wouldn't give a care. Night in the clink was as good as a cheap hotel room and saved money on the heater in the van, as far as he was concerned. But he didn't like the way that they were talking about sending his guitar in for examination. Something about a 'bad feeling' that the German Shepherd had about it.

"Hey."

He went ignored, the two officers turning to each other and muttering just under his range of hearing. Should have gotten those hearing aids, he supposed; all the hard-rocking probably wasn't doing his ears any favors, these days. His tail whipped behind him in annoyance, leaving him with little recourse in getting himself out of the cuffs.

At least, not easily. He stretched his head forward, managing to 'hook' his chin against the hood of the car, and then used that to lift himself up a bit. He only dragged himself forward by a few inches, but it was better than nothing.

Thank the music for all the blowjobs...

Lift, hook, pull. Lift, hook, pull.

He managed to get halfway up the hood and was just trying to figure out how the hell he was going to climb up the windshield with that sort of movement when the cops finally noticed. The Doberman grabbed him by the handcuffs around his wrists, pulling him back down and very nearly leaving his ass spitted on the hood ornament on the cop car.

"Hey, where the hell do you think you're going?"

"I'm getting my guitar, man. That's all."

"That's evidence, lion," the Doberman said. "That's staying well away from you."

"Well, unless you plan on throwing me in the trunk, then you're going to have to move it in a minute."

He hadn't meant it literally, but apparently, the cops thought taking him in via the trunk of their car was a good idea. It was a very grumpy lion that was eventually deposited into the station lock-up, and he glared at the two dogs as they walked away from his cell. He shook his head, leaning against the back wall and crossing his arms for the first time since his arrest. Nice relief to his wrists, but not much good news to be found at the moment.

The guitar was being taken to the evidence room on the far side of the station, and all things considered, that wasn't a good place for it to be. That big red beauty was not exactly happy with all the stuff that he put it through, he knew that, but they had an understanding. She did what he asked, he took care of her. Took real good care of her, particularly when they rode the storm the way that they did.

Someone else handling her? That wasn't gonna go well.

"Hey, pussy cat."

Gus arched an eyebrow, looking to his right at the cell next door. The alligator leaning against the bars smirked at him.

"You forget your pants with your John, pussy cat?"

"Nah, I'm just the Terminator looking for one piece at a time. That guy had a nice vest; looking to become a scale-skin wallet?"

"Fuck you, you prick."

"Oh, if we're offering that, maybe we can make a deal. But...yeah, not really. Not my type."

Not that Gus really had a type, and not that he was that disinterested in the alligator, either. The big man was someone that looked like he could be a damn good time, all things considered, but this wasn't the sort of time or place to be looking for hookups, despite being as 'dressed' as he was.

Gus knew that he was probably going to be stared at for most of the night. The way that he dressed on stage was the way that he dressed everywhere: naked, save for the leather vest that he wore and the silver Prince Albert that hung from the head of his cock, keeping the head from ever hiding. It meant that he had his ass out, his dick out, everything out for cops and criminals to look at.

The whole thing worked great on stage. Not so great when you just wanted to get a cup of coffee. Eh. Meant that the traveling was easier.

He walked over to the bars of his cell, well aware that the alligator was still checking out his ass. He idly flicked his tail up, the tufted tip flicking from side to side as he gave the aggressive asshole a free show. His hands clenched around the bars as he watched the door to the evidence room close, the triple-paned window between the back room and the evidence room just clean enough for him to see the two cops that arrested him signing the guitar over to a boar on the other side.

Don't you dare.

He narrowed his eyes as he watched the boar pick up his guitar, glaring through the bars.

Don't you fucking dare play my baby.

The boar picked up the guitar, alright, and was holding it badly. Not at all the right, elegant way for her long-necked shape, or for her wider base. He was a clumsy oaf, someone that had never held it in his life, and was obviously posing with it.

I swear, if you leave so much as one - oh shit!

He saw the boar's hand go up, and he threw himself backwards, shouting at the top of his lungs.

"Hit the deck!"

Half the police listened. The alligator and one other prisoner listened. The rest? Well, they only had themselves to blame as perhaps the loudest, most drawn-out guitar-chord in police department history ripped through the air. The glass panes shattered instantly, old bits of concrete and drywall went flying, and reports that were unfortunate enough to be paper-bound were sent flying through the air, mixing and flying through one another like birds, briefly enchanted on the power of music.

Those that had still been standing were completely out of it, their eyes dazed and white, their mouths slack and open with drool running down their faces. Gus groaned as he dragged himself back to his feet, seeing the guitar wiggling its way around in the evidence room, trying to drag itself free of the boar's hands.

Well, fuck. This is what happens when an amateur touches you...

Shaking his head, he had a half-second to wish that he'd taken Thimas up on some of those lessons. Being able to play some music magic on the bars of his cell rather than needing the guitar for any of those powers would have been great right about now. As it was, he could only watch and wait, hoping that nobody did something stupid enough to get them in further trouble.

After all, that guitar and its paired instrument were pretty damn powerful. The road trip that he'd gone on with Greta to get the pair of them had been something like going through a Nordic quest, and the guitar itself was amazing. That said, it was also a problem if someone that didn't understand it tried playing it. The boar grabbed for it again, his hand slipping along the bottom -

"FUCK!"

Gus ducked just in time to avoid the next strum, and the blast of music didn't just blow things away this time. The discordant strings warped what was in front of it, desks rising up on lengthening legs, papers turning to birds of slicing wings, and guns? Well...that was not good in the slightest, considering that they turned into one-legged, hopping, red-faced things of anger that started blasting the ceiling and the ground and everything else that seemed to piss them off.

Thankfully, the last chord was enough to get his guitar free of the boar's grip. It spun itself around, bashing the boar across the face before flying through the air, heading right for him.

The alligator one cell over, smart enough to stay down when the last chord had gone off, looked up with his face scales pale and his mouth hanging open. The gator pointed at the floating guitar that came to a stop just outside the lion's cell.

"That thing's yours?!"

"Yeah, that's my baby." He chuckled. "Beaut, ain't she?"

"How the hell...what the hell did it just do?"

"Eh, she gets a little pissy from time to -"

Bwhooooooooom!

The guitar let off a blast of sound that vibrated right through him, making his mane stand up at full extension, and setting the Prince Albert at the head of his shaft vibrating like mad. Realizing that he probably looked like he'd just received the static shock of a lifetime, Gus shook his head and brushed his fingers through his mane.

"Hey, baby, you don't gotta flirt that hard. I still love ya, even if you got played by someone else."

The guitar seemed to burn a little brighter red at the base of it, almost like someone blushing, and it turned in mid-air, facing away from him. If a guitar could be said to be pouting, then it was definitely pouting.

"Hey, hey, don't be like that. I'm joking."

Strumming strings were the limits of its ability to talk back, and unfortunately, it was a language that Gus had never entirely bothered to learn. The roar of sound and the power of lyrics, that was his metaphorical alley to go down. The actual communication of music, that was more the badger's style, but he could guess what was being said. He sighed.

"Look, from now on, I'll keep you on my back while we're having sex."

Dun.

"Or chest. Or something. Whatever keeps you from getting hammered around while still being with me, okay?"

Dun din.

"You forgive me?"

It hesitated for a moment, then slid through the bars to land in his arms. He grinned, throwing the leather band over his shoulder and head, making sure that it was good and secure. He adjusted the strings slightly, then glanced down at the alligator.

"Hey, you. What's your name?"

"Ed."

"Ever slept with a lion before, Ed?"

"No."

"You wanna?"

The lion and the alligator walked out of the police department with a great deal of chaos following behind them. Once he had the guitar back, Gus had been more than capable of getting them free with a minimum of fuss...well, minimum of conscious fuss, at least. He was pretty sure that the cops would be sorting out what the hell had happened at that station for the next couple of decades, at the very least.

At least the guns were back to normal and the desks were back in their places. He left the paper birds flying, though; they'd get tired and nest at the end of the day, and they'd be back to normal after that.

The cops, however...

Whee-whoo, whee-whoo. The cop cars left the station in a hurry, the entire department under orders to spend all disposable income for the week on the sex workers that they'd been pissing off for the last who knew how long. Gus was pretty sure that they'd be very confused the next day, but that wasn't his problem.

Ed, standing beside him as the taxi that Gus had dialed came rolling up, was as lost as he had ever been. The alligator barely had the sense to step into the cab with the lion, and he kept staring straight ahead as the cab driver started them towards a local hotel. It wasn't until Gus started fondling himself and reached out to do the same with the alligator that he finally snapped out of it.

"What the -"

"Hey, I asked if you wanted to sleep with a lion. Can't say it wouldn't be good to get a warm-up," Gus said with a chuckle.

"You...what the hell are you?"

"Oh, just your average rock and roller."

"That wasn't rock and roll."

"Yeah, probably more prog-rock. Ugh. Don't tell anyone that I did that, but I needed something more developed."

"That...that's not..."

"Hey, hey. Cute guy. Ed." He smiled, tapping the alligator on the cheek. "Just don't think about it. You're out of jail - by the way, weren't in for anything serious, right?"

"Bar fight."

"Yeah, you're good. Just go with it, and in the morning, you can figure out if you want to think of it like a dream or something else. For now...just take that dick out so we can find out who's top and who's bottom..."

The End

Summary: Gus is arrested, and then has to deal with the chaos that comes when someone not used to a magical guitar starts fucking around with it.

Tags: M/solo, Nudity, Exhibitionism, Arrested, Police, Holding Cell, Magic Guitar, Insanity, Piercing, Masturbation, Fondling, M/M, Alligator, Various Species, Lion, Gus,